Speedos, Spandex, and Surprises

The gym's fluorescent hum faded into the background as I towered over Qal and JJ, my white symbiote pulsing like a living heartbeat across my golden-tan skin, every muscle etched in hyper-defined glory. My cock hung heavy between my thighs, a veined monster still slick from the severance, throbbing with the rush of their stolen power. Qal lay there first, his lithe frame shrunken back to that eager Grindr pup I'd met in the Decathlon speedo aisle—soft abs quivering, crotch a smooth, dickless void where his black-veined pride used to be. His eyes, wide with that playful spark now cracked by fear, darted up to me. "Troy... fuck, man, please. We get it—you won. Just... give us something. Anything to fix this." JJ, sprawled beside him, his dark skin dull without the red glow, clutched at his own empty groin, bubble ass flattened to nothing, voice a hoarse whisper. "Yeah, bro. Mercy. We were assholes, but... dickless? That's hell. Hook us up, like old times."

Old times. The words twisted in my gut, a flash of those Decathlon mirrors where we'd teased each other in tight spandex, hands brushing thighs, cocks stirring under the fabric. Romance laced with lust, back when power was equal. But now? I smirked, flexing my pecs as white tendrils snaked out, coiling around their wrists like affectionate vines. "Mercy? Nah, you two begged for this dynamic. Remember Grindr bios promising spandex fun? This is the upgrade." They whimpered in unison, bodies trembling as I willed a sliver of my symbiote to detach—tiny white threads weaving over their skin, reforming just enough to cloak their nudity in shimmering illusion. No bulk, no dominance; just modest sheaths hugging their average frames, cocks regrown to pathetic stubs, maybe four inches hard, enough to twitch but never threaten. Qal's lithe body got a subtle outline, hinting at the playful tease he'd been, while JJ's dark skin took on a faint white pulse, his ass plumping back to a soft handful. "There," I said, voice dripping mock tenderness. "My spandex bitches now. You'll serve, tease, and watch me feast. Sound romantic?"

They nodded frantically, Qal's eyes lighting with desperate gratitude, JJ muttering a shaky "Thank you, king." But I saw the hunger in their gazes—envy mixed with that old connection, the kind that started with speedo struts and locker room grinds. I hauled them up, my enhanced strength making it effortless, and we slipped out into the pre-dawn haze, symbiote veils ensuring no stares followed our nude parade. The air buzzed with possibility; my dick already half-hard, balls churning from the recent meal, craving more. "Next stop," I announced, steering us toward the strip mall's rival gym—a flashy 24/7 joint called Apex, all glass walls and thumping bass, packed with dawn warriors chasing gains. "Time to hunt. You two lure 'em in with that spandex charm. I'll handle the devouring."

Apex hit us like a testosterone fog, the entrance a wall of mirrors reflecting our trio: me, a golden god with white veins snaking over traps and quads, cock swinging proud; Qal and JJ, slimmed-down shadows in illusory speedos that hugged their modest packages, asses pert but unremarkable. The symbiote's perk warped perceptions again—no one blinked at the nudity vibe, just nodded like we were regulars. Inside, the place thrummed: clanging plates, grunts echoing off rubber floors, a dozen dudes scattered across machines—buff bros in tank tops, their muscles pumped from early sessions, sweat beading on necks and pits. My senses sharpened, symbiote whispering targets: the blond lifter on the bench, pecs like slabs; the tattooed hunk deadlifting, thighs thick as my waist; a lean swimmer type curling at the cables, abs flickering under his skin. Fuck, the air smelled like prey—musk and iron, dicks outlined in shorts, begging to be claimed.

Qal and JJ moved first, my little pets on a leash of white tendrils tugging their collars. "Flirt like you mean it," I murmured, slapping Qal's ass to send him toward the blond. He obeyed, that playful lilt returning as he sauntered over, symbiote speedo shimmering like fresh spandex from our Decathlon days. "Hey, big guy," Qal said, voice all teasing charm, leaning against the bench with a hip cock. "Need a spot? Or maybe just some motivation?" The blond—let's call him Brock—grinned, racking his bar, eyes raking Qal's lithe form. "Shit, yeah. You look... tight. What's your routine?" Qal laughed, brushing a hand along Brock's thigh, the touch electric with our shared history of store teases. "Spandex and sweat. Wanna feel?" JJ mirrored on the other side, sidling up to the tattooed deadlifter, his dark skin glowing faintly as he dropped into a squat mimic. "Bro, those legs are killer. Mind if I... admire up close?" The guy—Rico, from his grunts—straightened, sweat dripping, cock twitching in his shorts. "Hell, go for it. You two always work out like this?"

I hung back by the water fountain, stroking my thickening dick casually, white symbiote pulsing to draw them in. Romance? It was in the air, twisted—Qal's eager intimacy pulling Brock into a corner stretch, hands roaming under tank tops; JJ grinding subtly against Rico during a form check, asses bumping like old Grindr hookups. The swimmer, Alex, noticed next, his lean body cutting through the crowd to join JJ. "You guys new? Fuck, that vibe's intense." Soon, we had a knot of four—Brock, Rico, Alex, and a fourth, a burly powerlifter named Dane who'd wandered over, drawn by the laughter and flexes. My pets worked magic: Qal whispering about speedo sessions, evoking those Decathlon mirrors where we'd first sparked; JJ demonstrating "proper form" with ass-forward poses, his modest cock outlined and leaking pre through the illusion. The guys stripped illusions fast—tanks off, shorts dropping, revealing a feast of hard bodies: Brock's pale pecs heaving, Rico's inked quads flexing, Alex's swimmer abs rippling, Dane's thick arms veined and ready.

"Group warm-up?" I purred, stepping in, my godlike frame eclipsing them. White tendrils extended like invitations, coiling around waists, pulling them into a circle on the mats. Qal and JJ knelt at the edges, eyes hungry but obedient, their tiny dicks hard and useless. The air thickened with musk, cocks springing free—Brock's a girthy six-incher curving up, Rico's dark and veined like twisted rebar, Alex's sleek and cut, Dane's a fat beer-can monster. Romance flickered in the haze: Brock leaned into Qal, murmuring, "You remind me of this hookup I had—teasing in gear," lips brushing necks; JJ nuzzled Rico's thigh, evoking locker room nostalgia. But I steered it erotic, commanding, "Worship first. Show my bitches how alphas play." Qal dove in, mouth engulfing Brock's cock with that playful eagerness, tongue swirling the head while white barbs teased without draining—yet. JJ mirrored on Rico, ass up as he deepthroated, gagging wetly, his own stub leaking onto the mat.

The scene ignited: Alex straddled my lap, his lean ass grinding my massive dick, pre-cum slicking the cleft as he moaned, "Fuck, you're huge—feels like destiny." I gripped his hips, white symbiote lubing us, thrusting up to tease his hole without entering, building the burn. Dane, the brute, paired with Qal, forcing his fat cock between Qal's pecs for a tit-fuck, grunting as Qal licked the tip. Romance laced the filth—whispers of "knew you'd taste this good" from Brock to Qal, echoing our spandex origins; JJ's hand stroking Rico tenderly before sucking balls, a nod to intimate touches past. I orchestrated, tendrils binding wrists loosely, turning it into a consensual frenzy where power flowed to me. "Suck him deeper, pet," I told Qal, and he did, Brock's hips bucking, face-fucking with sloppy rhythm. JJ rimmed Rico now, tongue probing the inked ass while jerking Alex's cock, the swimmer leaking onto my chest.

Heat built, my symbiote humming for the feed. I pulled Alex down first, flipping him onto all fours, my tongue—elongated and barbed—diving into his hole. He arched, swimmer muscles clenching, "Oh shit, yes—deeper, like you own it." I rimmed voraciously, white essence injecting bliss, his ass quivering as pre dribbled from his dick. Qal and JJ assisted, their mouths swapping cocks—Qal now on Alex's shaft, JJ titillating Dane's heavy balls. The gym's bass thrummed like a heartbeat, oblivious patrons lifting elsewhere under the haze. I mounted Alex then, my monstrous cock breaching his tight ring with symbiote ease, thrusting slow and deep, each pump grinding his prostate. "Fuck, you're splitting me—romantic as hell," he gasped, pushing back, our bodies syncing in slick rhythm. White veins pulsed, siphoning subtle essence through the connection, his abs softening imperceptibly as I fucked harder, balls slapping his taint.

Brock watched, jealous, until I beckoned him over. "Ride my pet," I growled, shoving Qal onto his back. Brock impaled himself on Qal's modest dick, moaning as the lithe body bucked up weakly, their Grindr spark reigniting in frantic humps. "Just like those speedo teases," Qal whimpered, hands on Brock's pecs, pinching nips. JJ, ever the eager one, took Rico doggy-style, his tiny cock plunging into the tattooed ass, but it was JJ's tongue on Rico's hole beforehand that had him begging. Dane, impatient, bent me over mid-thrust—no, I flipped it, pinning him instead, forcing his fat dick into my mouth while I railed Alex. Sucking Dane, my barbs pierced subtle, injecting euphoria; he groaned, "Goddamn, your throat's magic," hips pistoning as I drained the first hints of power, his arms deflating slightly under the strain.

The orgy peaked in waves. Alex came first, ass clenching my cock like a vice, squirting ropes onto the mat as I pounded through his orgasm, white symbiote milking every drop of essence. "Fuck yes—fill me," he begged, and I did, creampieing deep, hot seed flooding his guts, my own climax building but held back for the feast. Brock followed, grinding on Qal until he erupted, cum splattering Qal's chest, the lithe body writhing in sympathy. Rico bucked against JJ's thrusts, shooting across the powerlifter's back—Dane's, I mean—while JJ licked it up like a good bitch. Dane was last, my mouth working his beer-can shaft relentlessly, barbs sinking deeper now. He roared, flooding my throat with thick, salty cum, but I didn't swallow—I bit, enhanced teeth severing clean, symbiote sealing the wound bloodlessly. His dick dissolved in my maw, power surging: my quads ballooned thicker, abs carving sharper, cock swelling inside Alex to stretch him wider. Dane collapsed, howling in shocked pleasure-pain, crotch smooth and spent, body average Joe now.