The Telemachus Story Archive

Night Warrior
Part 3 - The Prize
By Kyle Cicero

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The Prize

The next few nights passed by with Carlos plotting how to secure his prize. “So my old bitch Juan has turned out to be the city’s buff crime fighter,” he laughed. “I gotta admit the cunt really filled out nicely,” he sneered as he visualized the muscular torso and especially his sweetly fuckable arse. An image came to him of the last shocked, befuddled look on the face of the Night Warrior aka Juan as he got his lights punched out. Then, there appeared the more interesting mental picture of the sculpted body of the hero lying out cold on that alley floor. “Fuck you are such a piece of arse now Juan,” Carlos grunted as he felt his manhood grow erect in his tightie-whities. He closed his eyes and replayed his fight with Juan. Every action by the crime fighter, or rather his non-reactions, came into focus in the crook’s brain. “Yeah you couldn’t act once you recognized me huh cunt,” Carlos growled as he reached down to rub his throbbing cock. “I still intimidate you.” As he touched himself, the erotic sensations on his dick’s shaft from his bikini brief’s soft cotton weave increased in intensity. “Oh yeah I knocked you out,” he murmured as he vigorously quickened his manual activities on his dick. “You are still mentally my bitched boy. Oh fuck,” he wheezed as his pumping grew faster. “Oh yeah I took you down. Strutting around the big hero. You macho posers are just inner cunts covering it up. I know…ah shit…your type,” he wheezed as he came close to release. “Oh shit that sweet arse. Juan I’ve got you still…knocked you out...I fucking…knocked…you… ooooot…AWWW SHIT!” He roared as he let loose a hefty series of ejaculations into his underwear. “Fuck that was the best,” he finally sighed. He lazily stripped off his cum soaked CK’s and used it to wipe himself dry. Suddenly, he knew what would be his next action in Juan’s conquest.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The next few nights passed by with more nightmares about the past with more copious nighttime emissions. By the end of the week crime fighter was a mental wreck. He vainly scoured the city to find Carlos and bring him to justice. Secretly he hoped his foe would resist so there could be another fight between them. “I will kick his arse and then I’ll put the past behind me forever. I’ll be better once I show him I’m not his bitch anymore,” he repeatedly told himself.  His searching proved futile. It seemed Carlos had gone underground.

At the end of the week the city’s police chief contacted him about a large envelope that had been secretly dropped off at police headquarters. It was simply marked “For the Night Warrior: Private. From: Knock-Out .” The Night Warrior quickly arrived and briskly took the envelope. All queries from the police chief about the envelope, its possible contents or, what “knock out” meant were met by the hero’s stony silence!

Taking the envelope quickly back to the privacy of his home Juan, aka the Night Warrior, ripped it open to see what it contained. To his anger and disgust, a pair of used CK’s fell to the floor. Attached to the cum stained item was a note which read, “a brief taste of me till we meet again from your pal Knock-Out!”

“That no good bastard,” Juan yelled as he picked up the CK in his right hand then tossed the item into the trash. I can’t let what he did get out. I’m the Night Warrior,” he yelled. “No one cold conks me and gets to brag it!” His fists clenched. As he stood in the center of the room a whiff of a familiar musky scent hit his nostrils. He lifted his right hand to his face.  His mind registered Carlos’s sex smell. Without realizing it, Juan’s crotch reacted to the stimulus that odor had always given to him. “No,” Juan roared as he quickly realized he was becoming semi-erect. He rushed to the bathroom sink and vigorously washed his hands. Filled with horror over this physically reaction he quickly dressed in his hero’s outfit and left. He was determined to find Carlos. Yet, hours later he once more came home in failure. He stripped off his costume and climbed into bed to try to get some needed sleep. His naked muscular torso rubbed upon the supple sheets involuntarily reminding him of the soft cotton CK’s.

He tossed and turned as rest eluded him. It was as if his body was on fire. Thoughts of Carlos throbbed in his head. “This is fucking insane,” Juan sharply told himself. He went to a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “I need to get a grip,” he mumbled as he took one shot of the liquor and then another. He fought to calm the growing “itchiness” inside of his body by drinking shot after shot. After awhile he had a slight buzz but still no relief. His body still tingled with arousals as more thoughts of his teenaged years as Carlos’s bitch swirled around in his mind.

Juan suddenly recalled the taunting note he had received. He went to the trash intending to grab the note and burn it. Instead he took the CK’s in his hand. The thoroughly drunken hero stared at the stained briefs. His throat grew dry. Wafting scents of Carlos’s cum and crotch odor flowed towards him. As he gazed at the underwear his own cock grew fully erect. “God,” he moaned as he gave into the need to orgasm. Without thinking, he pressed Carlos’s smelly CK’s to his face and deeply took the scents into his lungs. The combined effects of the whiskey and Carlos’s aroma became too much for him to resist. His alcohol soaked mind transported him back in time. He was a teenager again, sucking on Carlos and enjoying every second of his sexual submission.  “Awww fucc,” he moaned as he reached down to jerk himself off. Carlos’s voice filled his head. Juan heard his tormentor saying, “ah such a good bitch. Yeah play with yourself as you breath me into your body.” Juan’s head was spinning. He rammed the CK’s into his face so he could get more of Carlos into his lungs. As he deeply inhaled the heady aromatic brew he furiously increased the temp of his cock pumping. “Noo...noo…I...I mustn’t,” he babbled midway into this activity even though he knew he craved the very thing he was doing for Carlos. But that momentary hesitation faded. Soon he was sniffing like a dog in heat while masturbating into a series of explosive and shamefully satisfying sexual orgasms. “AWWWW FUCCCCCC!” He screamed as he repeatedly climaxed.

When he was done he felt like he had run a marathon. The liquor hit him with its full force. Exhausted and now itch free, Juan crumbled to the floor with the CK’s still in his grip. He yielded to his need to rest.  When he awoke hours later he found he has slept with the underwear still tightly pressed into his face. His cock and balls were covered in crusty dry jism. It was obvious he had ejaculated a few more times during his time at rest. He began to sob into the CK’s. The smell of Carlos engulfed him. Instantly he grew erect. He was mind wrecked by now and sick from the effects of too much drinking. He needed relief from the pounding in his head but, even more, the renewed throbbing of his erection. “I’m still his bitch,” he harshly told himself as he jerked-off. He recalled how he had been knocked out and the words” nighty-night” used to taunt him. “Carlos…Carlos…knocked me…out...aahhhh fucccc,” he groaned as he climaxed one last time. As he stared at his spunk-puddle lying at his feet he swore to overcome his submissive sexual urges upwards Carlos.

Later, as he showered, he swore to burn the underwear as well. Yet, when he took it into his hands, he couldn’t fight the urge to sniff it once more. To his shame he did so before finally sealing it in a plastic bag then, hiding it in the back of a dresser drawer. When he made his rounds as Night Warrior he stopped searching for Carlos. He would be forced to confront Carlos soon enough. He needed time to win the fight in his mind. He reminded himself he was the Night Warrior. He had never lost a battle in the ring. This was simply another kind of fight. It was one he swore he wouldn’t lose.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He had sworn to himself that his encounter with Carlos would not affect his life. The reality, however, was that it did, in fact, impact it. Now when he wrestled images of his youthful “master” would flicker into his consciousness. Each new foe in the ring became an unconscious surrogate for Carlos. His brain screamed out that he had to not only defeat them but to demolish them. He was, in essence, fighting his own inner fears that he craved Carlos’ domination. His tactics shifted. He became crueler in his matches as he struggled to put his fears behind him. He had always been a fighter but now he engaged in mindless displays of brutality. He would take cheap shots in the ring. When he performed his “nighty-night” he would hold the maneuver past what was necessary. Afterwards, Juan would rip the masks off his defeated foe with undisguised glee. His now highly preening victory poses over his unconscious wrestling opponent seemed to be guided by sheer smug arrogance. Over time his legions of his fans took notice. Soon a subtle shift took place with them until, during one match, the crowds began to cheer on his opponent. Their hatred of him shocked him. His now fragile ego of his machismo depended on being idolized. To his mind his once adoring fans seemed to suspect he had once submitted and craved sexual submission to Carlos. This illogical fear took full hold of him and only made him engage in more vicious displays of wrestling. He would show them that he was a true man!

“I’m telling you man the crowds are getting ugly,” the corpulent wrestling promoter of the hall yelled at the Lycra clad masked Night Warrior after one particularly brutal match. “You nearly killed him with your fucking sleeper. It took two referees to fucking pull you off the guy. Plus,” he angrily shouted. “You are ruining things with this fucking obsession for taking masks. It stops got it!”

Juan glared at the fat man. “I do what I want,” he roared. “I don’t need to listen to some fat ugly limp dicked fuck like you.” He got up to leave.

“Listen,” the promoter firmly said while hiding his anger at the conceit and insults of the younger man. “You got a mental thing going on.” He reached into his desk and pulled out a card. “You see this doctor. If he sees you and says you are okay you will wrestle.” He paused to let his words sink into Juan’s head. “I won’t have a nut job in the ring. See him or you will never wrestle again. Remember, I have the power to make that happen too. Got It!”

Juan’s body tensed. His hands clenched into fists. He was about to punch the rotund older man then stopped himself. The promoter did have that power. Juan still held to the belief that, given enough time and victories, the fans would once more support him. He needed to get that adulation back to re-enforce his shaky macho self-image. He figured agreeing was the best action to take right now. “Okay,” he mumbled as he took the card. He turned and walked out of the office.

As he left the older man grinned. He picked up his phone and made a call. “Yeah he is going to see him. Sure no problem,” he said to the party that answered. The fat man gazed at the Lycra clad tight upturned butt of the retreating well-built Juan. “I think I’ll get something out of it myself,” he wheezed as he reached down to massage his stiffening cock. He hung up then placed another call to the doctor he had recommended to the young man. “Yeah he’s coming. Of course you or, can I say we, can,” he vindictively chuckled.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The doctor’s office was in a sleazy part of town. When he had called the doctor, Juan had tried to explain that he was busy doing his night rounds.

“Oh we can set up for an after-hours meeting,” the doctor replied. “Simply come in as you are during your patrols. There is no need to change or anything. In fact being in full costume may help your session. After all I am supposed to evaluating your persona as the Night Warrior right,” he giggled. “Also, I’m sure you will feel more open if you are masked. I know anonymity is a big deal in your profession.”

After seeing the neighborhood, Juan considered it lucky the appointment had been for late at night. He had no desire to be seen going to visit the man without his mask and outfit. If he was spotted he could explain he was here for a crime patrol and not as a patient.

He entered the office and found a balding thin man waiting for him. “Hello,” the sloppily dressed five-foot stranger said. “I am Doctor Campanos.” He extended a bony hand in greeting.

Juan reluctantly took it and shook the doctor’s clammy hand. A feeling of revulsion took hold of him. He stared around the room at the worn furniture. “Maybe this is a mistake,” he mumbled as the shabbiness of his surroundings unnerved him.

“Nonsense,” the doctor eagerly laughed. “One quick visit with me and you’re done. I give you a pass to wrestle. Then off to more victories.” He smiled. “I am your biggest fan. I will confess I tell everyone you are a symbol of manhood in its full flower,” he gushed. “I doubt someone as stunningly fit as you needs any exam but let’s get one done so you can return to being the champion your are to us all.”

Juan’s unease vanished. Receiving praise was something he was used to and had missed. “Okay doctor what do we do to start,” he replied while flashing a dazzling grin at his “fan”.

“Well sit on the chair by my desk and let’s simply talk.” Campanos responded. “ Would you care for a natural juice drink? It would be an honor to tell everyone how I drank with the famous Night Warrior!”

Juan did not really want to do this but he was afraid of insulting the man especially after just hearing how much that would mean to him. “Sure but a small one okay,” he said as he sat in a nearby chair. The doctor brought over a glass of a reddish liquid. “Thank you,” Juan replied as he took it. He quickly finished the drink as the doctor sipped on his glass’ contents. “It has a stinging taste for juice,” Juan coughed after he had consumed the entire beverage.

“It has certain white peppers in it,” the doctor said as he put down his glass.

“So what do we talk about, doctor?” Juan asked. He wanted to finish the interview. By now he was feeling slightly queasy. He decided the juice did not agree with him. “I really hope we get this,” a flush came over him. He tried to focus but felt a slight dizziness coming over him. “You…see…I can’t…ah…stay…long,” he slowly told the grinning man. He looked up at the doctor. “I…feeling…a bit…ill,” he slurred.

“Well let me see if I can help,” the doctor laughed as he took a small white-lit pinwheel from his desk. He turned the wheel with his fingertips then held its spinning image directly in front of Juan’s rapidly unfocused green eyes. “Watch the flickering light and relax. I bet its just nerves that you are experiencing,” he whispered. “Isn’t it pretty young man? You love seeing it. I know that you feel quite relaxed now too.” The doctor eagerly hissed.

Juan tried to protest but somehow he could not look away from the pretty spinning wheel. He began to hyperventilate and tried to rise up from the chair. “I…I…go,” he woozily insisted.

“Oh no please we have barely begun,” the older man chuckled as he firmly pushed Juan back into his chair.

“I feel…sick,” Juan weakly, protested as he experienced a growing numbness take hold of him.

“Merely the light sedative drug in the drink. Now look at the pretty wheel.” The doctor softly said as he spun the white whirling disk faster. “Tell me how pretty it is!” The doctor’s face grew stern. “Tell me now boy how pretty it is!” He sharply barked to the young studly wrestler. Doctor Campanos always took referrals from certain “friends” in law enforcement. He had seen this type so many times before sitting in this very chair. The “cock-of-the-walk” attitude of the young gangbangers with their over exaggerated display of manhood. How often, he thought, had he had similar young tough thugs in this very chair experiencing similar results.  From his past encounters in turning them the doctor knew that deep in each of their core there was a submissiveness they buried. Their machismo was a front covering up their fears of being what they secretly were inside: a scared weak boy in need of a strong guiding man. Thanks to him, those toughs were not so macho. Later, seeing videos of themselves pitifully offering up their straight arses for a good hard police fucking always changed things. Blackmail threats brought them around into acting in a different way. Yes, his “bottomed” boys now worked as police informants under such a fear of public exposure. Tonight, however, was the culmination of it his work. When the promoter had called him, the doctor knew pompous Night Warrior was just like them. “I said isn’t it pretty,” he roared knowing only a full display of his power would work to break through to the inner makeup of the young well-built wrestler! He laughed to himself as he gazed at the zonked hunk. The latter had been easily fooled and, just like the prior parade of hot “macho” gang bangers, the undefeated night warrior had succumbed to this trick. “It is pretty, right,” he sharply repeated.

Juan was gulping in air. A sheen of sweat formed on his exposed face. He wanted to get away but the doctor’s voice now seemed so powerful. Inside his mind a small spark of submission grew in him in reaction to this subtle display of dominance. A smile came over him as he let his guard down to allow those feelings flow.  He had struggled to keep them in check but now a sensation of pleasure took hold as he just surrendered to them. He sighed and went limp in his chair. “So…pretty,” he mumbled as his youthful body slumped down further into the chair. “So pretty.”

“Yes,” the doctor whispered softly. He let the drugged drink and the wheel continue to do their usual work. The doctor was experiencing his own elation. There right now, drooping in front of him, was the oh-so-manly Night Warrior. Even hypnotized, sitting there all slack jawed, and helpless he was a wet dream come true. “Now simply relax for me. I will tell you what to do okay,” he said as he stopped the wheel’s movements. Juan slowly nodded still flashing a wide grin. By now he was barely conscious of anything except the strong overwhelming voice of the doctor. “He’s ready,” the doctor finally croaked. From out of a side room the promoter waddled into the room.

“Well that is something to see,” the promoter laughed as he went up to the still wrestler. He reached for the mask. “Let’s see if the rest of your face is as good-looking as what is visible. Instantly the doctor grabbed the promoter’s hand.

“Don’t ruin our fun,” he roughly said. “Unmasked he is just another buff young Mexican stud we’ve fucked over. But,” he paused as a lewd look came over him. “If he stays masked well, we are screwing around with your champion. That illusion is more sexually exciting. It is so much greater an experience for us letting his features and thus his identity remain anonymously masked.”

The promoter gazed at the loopy wrestler then laughed louder. “Yeah let the mask stay,” he agreed. He thought for a moment. “ But, in return, while he is under find out what is going on with him. I mean he changed lately. I’d like to know who or what put a bur on our pretty boy’s saddle.”

“Agreed,” Doctor Campanos said. He leaned in closer towards Juan. “My boy something is bothering you. You will feel so much better telling us about it.”

Part of the zonked wrestling champion/crime-fighter didn’t want to reveal his shameful conduct so many years ago. But, thanks to the drugs and hypnotism combined with the pleasurable submission taking hold, he couldn’t disobey. For the next few minutes he blurted out everything about his youthful sexual encounters with Carlos as well as the current situation of their recent meetings.

“Fuck,” the promoter wheezed as he rubbed the erection that had sprung up in his pants as he listened to the story unfold. “My wrestling champ is hot to suck cock and get butt fucked! If this arsehole gives it up to this Carlos my entire wrestling game is fucked too. He is my fucking champion. Who will pay to see a match with some fudge packer as the champion? Can you program him to, ya know, not punk out his rump to this guy at least while I bring another stud up through the ranks to succeed this cunt?” He hopefully asked as he gazed at the doctor. “A few months then the Night warrior can give up his arse to whomever he wants whenever he want!”

“I’m afraid that is impossible,” the doctor sighed. “Hypnotism can always release his true inner nature but in the end it can’t stop what someone desires to do.” He gazed at the goofy smiling face of the tized crime fighter. “I fear it is only a matter of time before his inner bitch bursts out especially if he comes into contact with this Carlos.”

The promoter shook his head. He was screwed. Sure the thought of the smug champion giving up his arse was hot as hell. “Hell I’d pay to see it but…holy shit,” he exclaimed as an idea popped into his brain.  He roared with laughter.  He explained what he has in mind to Campanos.

The doctor grinned as he too x contemplated it. “I think it is a fantastic idea.” He replied. “We need to get ahold of this Carlos and fill him in on this idea. I’m sure one of our bottom gang banger boys can find him for us.”

“If he agrees I will rake it in,” The promoter said as he unbuckled his belt and let his pants drop to expose his raging hard-on. “But first things first,” he muttered as he waddled towards the masked crime fighter. “Let’s see how fucking good you suck dick!” He laughed as he brought his boner to Juan’s full lips. The young hunk seemed to resist. “I thought he’d gobble it up,” the promoter angrily yelped as his cock hit the clenched teeth of the relaxed masked hero.

“I think I can fix that,” the doctor chuckled as he leaned in past the promoter to whisper some words into Juan’s ear.

Juan found himself back in school kneeling before Carlos’ cock. He blinked in disbelief. Part of his brain registered that this was not possible yet here he was staring at Carlos’ cock.

“Come on suck it,” a muffled voice told him.

It all seemed unreal and yet there was that cock. He sniffed expecting that familiar sexy musk to fill his lungs. To his surprise the smell was different. “Carlos,” he mumbled as the cock pressing on his barely parted lips.

“Suck me just like you always do,” the muffled voice insisted.

Juan decided any doubts were all in his imagination. He fully opened his lips and took in the dick. “Hmm,” he muttered as the sensation of a hard cock once more exploring his throat excited him. He eagerly savored the dick letting his tongue lap upon the soft skin of its undershaft. His ears filled with the sounds of guttural moans as he orally caressed this erection.

“Fuck he is fantastic,” the promoter exclaimed as he thrust in and out of the young hunk’s now very willing throat. “Aw fuck he is really giving me an amazing blow job!”

The doctor watched the scene as the masked wrestling champion slobbered over the dick. True, for the mind-fucked young Night Warrior, the cock he was expertly servicing was that of Carlos but in the end it did not matter. A good blowjob was a good blowjob. After all, both he and the promoter were engaging in their own fantasy by leaving their fuck toy in his costume. He stroked his own massive erection eager to experience his own oral servicing. He did not have long to wait.

“Ah fuck I gotta blow,” the promoter yelped as he rammed his cock deeply into the mouth of the Night Warrior.” He screamed as he ejaculated.

“Carlos’s cum,” the looped Juan sighed as he eagerly gobbled up the squirting liquid. He tastes different though?” he thought as he finished every drop. When ‘Carlos’ pulled out of his mouth Juan gasped for air. He was still panting when Carlos inserted his erect dick back into his open mouth. Juan was puzzled at how fast Carlos had become erect again. Yet a voice filled his ears telling him to just suck. Like an eager puppy he did just that! When Carlos ejaculated once more he gulped it all down. His own excited body twitched then shuddered. After Carlos pulled out of Juan’s throat the latter heard a voice telling him to sleep. He drifted off into the darkness.

“Shit that was awesome doctor,” the promoter later said as he pulled up his pants. He gazed at the dreamy eyes crime-fighter. Juan lay slumped in his chair gasping in air. Dribbles of cum seeped from the corners of his mouth. The fat older man suddenly noticed the huge somewhat bubbly wet spot in the crotch area of his champion. “Fuck he came while we were screwing his throat!” the promoter giggled. He and the doctor gave each other a ‘thumbs up’. Bring him around but make sure he doesn’t recall tonight,” the promoter stated as he left. “I’ll contact the bangers to find this bastard Carlos and then we can plan for…” he evilly winked then left.

The doctor carefully cleaned the crotch of the now slumbering champion.  He slowly let his fingertips explore the tightly Lycra encased balls of the unconscious fighter.

“Fuck,” the sleeping Juan groaned. His powerfully muscled thighs spread apart as he slipped down lower into his chair. His breathing grew deeper as the fingertips of the man gently teased them. “Fucccccc,” he gasped.

“Fuck it,’ the doctor muttered He quickly eased the tight lower half of Juan’s costume down to reveal the latter’s large thick uncut cock and fully rounded lightly haired nut-sack. The doctor hungrily stared at the exposed prize.  After a minute of further indecision he took action. Hungrily he let his tongue lap on the low hanging sack of the zapped hunk. Juan’s short dark public hair roughly rubbed against the doctor’s cheeks. The doctor gingerly sucked one of Juan’s large balls into his mouth. He tongued its ripping surface of its covering skin while gently pulling on and lightly grazing his teeth.

“Fuck,” Juan gurgled. He grew erect. “My nuts…my nuts,” he yelped as he pushed his legs apart to their maximum extent. His muscled torso quivered in heat in his chair as the doctor released the ball only to continue doing the same to the other one. “Fuck. Fuck. Oh Dios,” Juan hollered in ecstasy. The doctor suddenly stopped licking Juan’s balls so he could go down on the youthful fighter. “EEEEEEE,” Juan shrieked in pleasure. As the doctor skillfully sucked the now howling and bucking young stud he fantasized about having the famed Night Warrior squirming in heat for him.

Unexpectedly Juan brought his muscled legs together clamping the head of the medical man between his thighs. The doctor felt the softness of their skin upon his cheeks. He imagined the macho fight was caressing him. With renewed vigor he bore down upon Juan’s cock. When he had suckled Juan’s nuts he sensed they contained more spunk. He was determined to orally service the stud so thoroughly those orbs would pump until they emptied their salty white jism

Minutes later the sounds of the doctor’s success echoed in the office. “AWWWWWW… SHIITTTT” Juan screamed. His muscled body went completely rigid. He began squirting into the hot moistness that surrounded his dick. In the end he was left whimpering as he shot every drop of his spunk under the relentless sucking sensation upon his cock. When he felt drained a voice told him to sleep. Sometime later Juan came too. He felt amazingly at ease though shocked he had slept.

“You seemed so tired you simply just nodded off,” the doctor warmly explained to him. “I let you sleep for a short while. I’m afraid though that you let the juice left in your glass spill into your crotch.”

Juan followed the doctor’s eyes to gaze at his own crotch. A large wet area met his vision. He flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry,” he muttered. He didn’t recall even passing out. After he left he was surprised at how much time had passed with the doctor.

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