After finishing college with a computer degree, I went for three job interviews. All three jobs were offered to me, but I accepted the job at the smallest of the three companies. The remuneration they were offering was also slightly less that other two businesses, but somehow it just felt right. I really liked Ferdie, the owner of this medium sized engineering company that employed me. When I met him he was bubbling with enthusiasm and was far more passionate, than the other two dour idiots who had interviewed me. Ferdie had made use of freelance computer people up until then, but as he told me, it was time for his business to evolve to a full-time computer person. With the growth the company had shown over the previous year, in his opinion, this step had now become a necessity.

I started working at the company the following Monday. I was initially taken around and introduced to everyone upstairs, before meeting the guys in the blue-collar division downstairs. Wray, with whom I would spend thirty percent of my time, was the boss of the downstairs division. Wray was out the office on my first day and would only be back, the following day. All the guys downstairs were friendly and there were one or two very hot looking men. The rest of the day was a blur, and exhausted I made my way back to my apartment that evening. My dad owned several apartments and houses, and I was lucky enough to rent one of these from him, for next to nothing.

The next day, I met the twenty-nine-year-old Wray. He was six-foot-one tall and very hunky. He wasn’t a pretty boy, but the most ultra-masculine stud you could ever dream of. His expressive dark brown eyes radiated fervor. Wray wore his hair in a brush cut style and also sported a full beard. All the hair on his entire head was jet black. You could also clearly discern from the hair sprouting over his polo shirt's top button, that he was fairly hairy. When he shook my hand my knees almost gave way. The one thing I noticed about him, that would later be explained, was that he had quite a few small scars on his face. Spending thirty percent of my time with him was going to be an absolute pleasure. As I would only commence working with him the following day, we agreed on meeting from nine till twelve.

Upon my arrival back upstairs, one of the pretty young secretaries with fluttering eyes asked me if I had met Wray. I nodded and then got a full update on the hunk at our company. He was an amateur cage fighter and in fact, had a contest coming up in just over two weeks’ time. He fought in the light-heavyweight division and had a twenty-two to twenty-one, win/loss record, having only ever lost his second fight. Wray had apparently been telling everyone at work that his next fight would probably be his last.

For the following week, my restraint was tested as never before. Wray and I got on very well but I was very guarded, believing him to be totally straight. Wray was intelligent, well read, and was an extremely enjoyable colleague to work with. He had been married four years before, but that hadn’t worked out and only lasted a year. He said that his arduous training schedule had caused the divorce because his wife was unable to deal with their total lack of any social life.

On the Monday before his fight, he asked me if I would like to attend. His fight was on Thursday evening, at a casino about twenty miles away. I wasn’t really keen but couldn’t say no. He said that he would arrange a complimentary ticket for me to attend the event. When I asked him if he was going to win, he challenged me to a bet. If he won, I would have to take him out for dinner on Friday night and if he lost, he would pay for the meal. How could I refuse?

I arrived at the casino at seven p.m. on Thursday. After a light meal, I was seated by seven forty-five in a front row seat. The show started at eight and was totally over the top for me. Wray’s fight was only up at nine and I did not know how I was going to last. Many of the guys fighting were hot, but the blood and gore were too much for me. Finally, Wray arrived in the ring with all the usual loud music and hype, which I had by now become accustomed to. His first round was rough and gruesome, and fortunes seemed to sway to and fro. Toward the end of the second round both men had bloodied faces, but Wray seemed to be getting the upper hand. Round three was one-way traffic and Wray knocked his opponent out within thirty seconds. Having had enough, I left directly after his fight.

The following day I joined in with all the backslapping and compliments at work. Wray’s right eye was slightly puffy, and he had cuts on his bottom lip and above his left eye. While working together that day we finalized our arrangements for the evening. I had booked dinner at a lovely Italian restaurant a block from my apartment. At seven Wray arrived at my apartment on his large motorbike. We spoke for a while before walking to Mario’s, where dinner and conversation were excellent. Early on in the evening, Wray asked if he could use my spare room that night. After eight manic weeks of preparation for the fight, Wray wanted to let his hair down. Naturally, I replied that it wouldn’t be a problem. When we arrived back at my place later, we spoke for another hour before heading off to bed. Luckily, I had a spare toothbrush for him.

At around seven-thirty the following morning I made breakfast. When Wray joined me in the kitchen only wearing his boxers, I had a hard time trying not blatantly staring at the magnificent creature before me. Wray then asked me what I had planned for that day, to which I replied, “Nothing.”

He then offered to take me on a bike ride. He had an extra helmet at his place and as he only lived ten minutes away, could fetch in no time. I wasn’t into bikes but didn’t want to look like a sissy, so agreed to his offer.

After breakfast, he took a quick ride over to his place to collect the helmet and was back in half an hour. We then took off to a surprise location where he wanted to buy me lunch. For most of the journey, my eyes were closed. I did, however, enjoy having my arms around his body and it took every fiber of my being, not to get a hard-on en route. The destination was a little village next to a dam, with all kinds of shops, restaurants, and galleries. We roamed around for a few hours before having lunch at an eatery. It was a delightful day, and we arrived back at my place at around four that afternoon.

As we entered my home Wray asked what I usually did on Saturday afternoons. “I usually watch DVD’s,” I replied. We then hired a DVD and sat together on the couch enjoying a really good movie.

Afterwards, as we sat chatting, Wray startled me by asking, “Are you gay, Allen?”

My heart almost stopped. Picking up on my discomfort he told me that he had no problem if I was. I just threw caution to the wind and confessed.

Wray then told me that he was bisexual and had also enjoyed many gay encounters during the past fourteen years. At the age of sixteen he had a gay relationship, which lasted for about a year. He then had another gay relationship at twenty-one, which only lasted a few months, before finally having a short gay fling just before he got married.

Wray also admitted to having a few homosexual one night stands in the preceding years. Being from a conservative background, however, he just felt that he could never pursue a gay lifestyle. This had frustrated him enormously and dealt with his vexation, by putting all his energy into his fights.

“Since meeting you, Allen, I have started obsessing about having sex with you. I would really love to go to bed with you.” Wray finally concluded.

After a quick visit to the bathroom to wash my face and recover, when I got back to the lounge Wray got up off the couch and fervently began kissing me. Before long, we were on the couch making out like two randy teenagers. Wray was an unbelievable kisser and extremely assertive. His hands dominated my head, arms, and body, as he pinned me down increasingly. I could sense him testing me, to see what level of roughness I would endure and it was obvious that he thrived on total control. Even his verbalizing became aggressive and took on an authoritarian tone.

When we stood up from the couch he retrieved a small knapsack, which he had removed from the bike hours earlier. He then ordered me to the bedroom in a commanding tone.

When we arrived in the bedroom he said, “Get your fucking clothes off,”

After we stripped I got my first look at him naked. His uncut cock was long and thick, with a pronounced downward curve. He obviously never shaved and also had a massive pair of hairy balls. Wray then ordered me to get on the bed on my stomach, before climbing on my back with a pair of handcuffs that he retrieved from his bag. I became very nervous as my hands were cuffed behind me, but before I could protest a ball-gag was pushed into my mouth.

He lifted off me and said, “I’m into rough sex Alan, and now I am going to break you in. If it gets too much for you, just give me a sign by showing me your middle fingers.”

After pulling a short strap out of the knapsack he then started whacking me on my backside. The pain was intense and as I wriggled about, he barked that I should lie still or he would increase the number of smacks. After six whacks, I relented and lay still. My arse stung as he continued spanking while growling commands. I came very close to showing him my middle fingers, but somehow I was totally intrigued and began to enjoy my whipping.

After twenty strikes, Wray stopped his assault and started rubbing and caressing my backside. What really surprised me was how much I had actually enjoyed the last few blows. What I didn’t realize at that moment, however, was how my life was about to change. Wray then got on top of me and started biting my shoulders. As he intensified his bites he held my head down firmly with his right hand, while spreading my legs with his knees. As he really bit down hard on my neck, I felt his cock forcing my butt-hole open as he roughly entered my arse. Wray then pushed his hands through, under my arms, and with both hands on top of my head commenced hammering into me.

He then put his lips to my ear and grunted, “You belong to me from now on.” I had never been so turned-on in my life!

As he settled into a firm tempo the discomfort gradually started to subside. He kept biting my ears and neck, before he lifted his body onto outstretched arms and started thumping his cock into me, meaningfully. As he began grunting he fell onto my body and unloaded. Spent, he continued to lie on top of me with his hot breath warming my face. After a few minutes, his cock slipped out of my arse before he got off me.

After unlocking the cuffs, he turned me onto my back before removing the ball-gag. Wray then sat down next to me on the bed and stared into my eyes. As hectic as my ordeal had been, I had loved it. When I smiled his face lit up. He bent over and kissed me passionately. I was then placed on my back before he lowered his arse on my face and facing away from me. Then, he pulled his cheeks apart and instructed me to rim him. While I rimmed him he started masturbating me and as I was about to shoot, he let go of my cock and got off my body.

Wray then lay over the side of the bed, and with his knees on the ground, ordered me to fuck him as hard as possible. I placed my cock at his hole and pushed like crazy. He growled with pain as his tight hole gripped onto my knob. Being overexcited, I did not last too long before I unloaded into him. Wray then spun around and licked my cock and balls clean. Afterwards, he ordered me onto my back once more squatting over me, told me to clean his butt again.

After moving to the lounge we had drinks after our session. Wray had an incredible sex drive and fucked me a further three times that night.

Following breakfast the next morning, we had a really long chat. Wray told me that he had always wanted to get into the heavy leather and bear scene. Thankfully, I had enough body hair to turn him on. He had always been reluctant to fully explore this arena individually and wanted someone he trusted, to share it with. He wanted to get all the leather gear and give it a full go. We then looked up sites on the internet and watched some of the heavy stuff that this gay subculture is into. I was fascinated and having always found very masculine men attractive, was quite keen on exploring this new lifestyle with him.

When we watched a movie of guys fisting one another, he admitted that he was dying to try this out. The look on my face must have said it all, but he assured me that he would never force me to take his fist. Wray, however, was dying to be fisted and made me take note of all the procedures and techniques that were employed. Some of the movies of guys being double-fucked really got me hot, and I knew that this was definitely something that I would want to try out in future. Fortunately, we both found the extreme bondage with gas masks, piggy head gear, and ridiculous restraints very silly. After our viewing marathon, I made lunch, after which we enjoyed a relaxing afternoon.

I would be turning twenty-one in two weeks’ time and invited Wray to my folk’s house, where the party would be held. He wanted to take me shopping for the required leather gear the following Saturday, as a twenty-first birthday gift. Strangely, his dominant sexual roleplay was restricted to the bedroom and roleplay outside of that environment, non-existent. We also made a decision that Wray’s inauguration into fisting would take place on the upcoming Saturday. I was very apprehensive, but he was determined to be fisted by me. Apparently, my slender hands made the decision less daunting to him.

We had sex a further three times that evening. In the bedroom, his authoritative attitude returned, but I was comfortable with it. I also got to fuck him again and meted out my own punishment on him. I whacked and fucked his arse as hard as possible.

During the following week, Wray made a decision to call it a day with his amateur fighting career. When pressed that week to make a final decision, he told the promoters he was finally done. I was also instructed to cut my hair very short and ordered to start cultivating a beard. Wray spent Tuesday and Thursday evening at my home that week.

Wray warned me, that he would be putting on a lot of weight now that he had stopped fighting. He came from an overweight family and had to work extremely hard to keep his weight down. Liberated from his extreme fitness regime, he said the weight would simply pile on. Personally, couldn’t wait for this to happen.

On Saturday, we visited a leather shop and got rigged out. We bought butt-plugs, poppers, and dildos, in addition to our two leather outfits. He also acquired medication to help him relax for his upcoming fisting tribulation. On Saturday afternoon, we relaxed after lunch and watched two DVD’s.

That evening, Wray’s fisting initiation was to take place. After administering suppositories and waiting the required twenty minutes, he douched himself thoroughly. We then placed a very large butt-plug into his backside to prepare his arse. During this preparation we sat around in the lounge, chatting and enjoying our drinks. Wray took his special tablet and gradually seemed to become quite relaxed. When we finally moved through to the bedroom, he leaned over the bed with his knees on the ground.

I lubed up my hand and arm and started working on his manhole. One, two, and then three fingers were soon inserted. I followed the method that I had seen on the internet and when the fourth finger went in, he really started groaning. I slowly agitated my hand to and fro, before placing my thumb in the palm of my hand. Wray started yelping as I began pushing my hand into him. His sphincter offered great resistance but I persevered. As my knuckles broke through I could see him start trembling. When my hand fully entered his arse, both his hands slapped the bed as he uttered all kinds of expletives. I kept my hand still for a few minutes, just to allow him to adjust to the intrusion.

It was stunning! The warmth enveloping my hand and the bond I felt with this beautiful man was overwhelming. I had never been more connected to anyone in my entire life. As he whimpered I commenced turning my hand in his backside. Slowly, he began to groan with pleasure. With my left hand, I rubbed his butt cheeks and back gently. Gradually, I started moving my hand in and out, while turning my arm. Soon, my forearm was halfway up his backside.

During the entire procedure, Wray took hits from the poppers bottle. I relaxed for a short while before I began thrusting my fist back and forth. After a few minutes, he begged me to abuse his hole. I slowly started pulling my hand out up to the knuckles, before reinserting. Once I got the momentum going, however, I began punch-fucking his arse steadily.

Wray turned his head from side to side as his body moved up and down. His knuckles were white as he tugged on the duvet. Before long, I saw his backside twitch, as he started unloading on the bed. Spent, he collapsed and I slowly withdrew my arm and hand from his backside. When he turned to look at me he had a look of delight on his face. When he grabbed me and passionately kissed me, I knew that I no longer had a choice, and would have to relent and indulge in the same ritual. I promised him that I would allow him to fist me, the following Sunday. I was totally in love with this man.

After the magnitude of our session, we both respected the gravity of what we had just experienced. It is difficult to explain the connection one makes when fisting occurs, there is a mental high that takes you to an entirely new level of trust and bonding. It is almost as if your bodies become one, united in ecstasy.

The following week, Wray spent every night at my place. Friday was my actual birthday and my parents invited me to their home for dinner. My dad stunned me, by informing me that the apartment I was renting from him would be my twenty-first birthday gift. I signed the required transfer papers and left my folk’s home later feeling like I had won a lottery. When I told Wray about my fantastic gift, he was blown away.

On Saturday, Wray arrived at my parents’ home after me and we all enjoyed the most wonderful party. My parents both took to Wray and I could see that my mom fathomed that Wray and I were lovers. My parents had known about my sexual orientation for the previous two years and were totally at ease with it.

Wray and I agreed to meet at my place after the party and left my parents’ home at the same time. We had a few drinks after we arrived, having imbibed responsibly during the party. Soon, we headed off to bed and made love for an hour before we dozed off. I was made to wear a large butt-plug that entire night.

The following morning I douched before reinserting the plug. I surprised Wray by asking him if he would consider moving in with me. He smiled and said that he would give me an answer the following morning if I was still alive. I was as nervous as hell about my upcoming fisting ordeal.

We had an early supper at around five in the afternoon. At six p.m. I again douched thoroughly before reinserting the butt-plug. After taking two special pills to calm me, we moved through to the bedroom at around seven that evening. I was tied to the headboard as before and the ball-gag was placed in my mouth. Wray then gave me a severe beating with his little strap. I humped on the bed as my arse burned. This weekly thrashing was becoming the highlight of my existence. By the twentieth strike, I had cum all over the duvet.

My hips were then propped up on two cushions before Wray got to work on my arse. Wray’s hands were large and I knew I would be in for an excruciating ordeal. Four fingers were immediately pushed into me once the huge butt plug was removed. I was very calm and with a few hits of poppers, relaxed and started getting into the whole scene. I had mentally prepared for this and bit on the ball-gag with all my might, as Wray started agitating his hand. He took his time and let me get used to the sensation as he opened and closed his four fingers. Next, Wray placed his thumb into the palm of his hand and started pushing into me. As his knuckles broke through my sphincter I broke out in a cold sweat. It was agonizing and I grunted like a wounded animal as he kept stirring his arm.

Wray then pushed my legs as far apart as he could, before he began plunging his forearm into me. Gradually, the pain subsided and was replaced by the most awesome sensation. I could feel his hand open and close as he massaged the inside of my backside. An occasional hit of poppers further enhanced my experience. He kept encouraging me as he gently rubbed my back with his left hand. When I relaxed and began to enjoy the anal onslaught, I encouraged him to fist me harder. He balled his fist and pulled his hand out up to the knuckles, before pushing back into me. Wray kept this up for a few minutes before he began punching my arse as his fist went completely in and out of me. I could feel myself approaching climax as he really punched my hole hard, prior to shooting the biggest load of my life.

Next, he pulled his hand out of me before jumping onto my back and inserting his cock. Wray was so turned-on that he came within a minute of thrusting into me. Afterwards, we lay still for a very long while.

Wray then told me that he definitely wanted to move in with me and cement our relationship. He was in love with me and wanted us to be partners. We also decided that fisting would be a weekly ritual and would be confined to weekends. We slept like babies that evening.

The following week he started moving all his clothes into our home. Wray had been renting a fully furnished apartment and had very few personal items to worry about. By the end of that week, he had managed to find someone to take over the lease on his apartment, and we settled into our new lives with ease.

Sadly, Wray was ostracized by his family when they learned about the two of us. I don’t think it affected him too much as he had always had a very tenuous relationship with them. Fortunately, he was virtually treated as an adopted son by my family. I actually believed that my dad got on even better with Wray, than he did with me.