By Josef Howard
Billy unfastened the tent wall from the floor and burrowed his head between them, wiggling through the opening as fast as he could before someone came around to the back of the tent and saw him. He knew sneaking in the exhibition tent was like stealing, but he didn’t have any money and he had to see the show.
When the circus had set up on the vacant farm land next to Billy’s family farm, Billy had never seen so many big muscular men in his life before. All of them shirtless – some wearing jeans, some wearing overalls, all with enormous work boots, hauling the heavy tents and tools like they were weightless and pounding the two foot stakes into the hard earth in one strike of the hammer.
Billy wacked off three times that night thinking about them and he was desperate to get in to see whatever type of circus they were setting up. Billy had no allowance, no savings, and his mother wouldn’t give him the price of admission, so he’d had to sneak in under the chain link fence. He thought for sure he’d be caught, in fact one of the big guys walking back to his trailer drenched in summer sweat, did see him getting up after crawling through the hole he’d dug in the dirt. But he hadn’t said a word. He just smiled at him and nodded. Perhaps he realized how poor Billy was from his clothes. Or maybe he just remembered what the excitement of the circus could motivate a young boy to do.
The big tent was packed inside with so many spectators standing watching the stage in the center that no one even noticed him sneaking in. All eyes were riveted on the stage, jaws slack, some of them drooling. When Billy succeeded in squeezing his way through the sea of legs to the front where he could see, he understood why.
On the stage were two of the enormously muscular men, one of them sporting a two foot long cock, stiffer than steel, and the other one devouring it deep into his throat like a sword swallower, as effortlessly as if it were a hot dog. Billy was boned in a second, in awe not only at the beauty of the two men and the spectacularly large dick, but also at the thought of being able to suck it or to be so completely consumed inside another man’s mouth. Although he’d been hot for men from the age of three, he’d never before realized two men could do such a thing with each other, although now it seemed obvious.
Billy was surprised though at how rapt the men in the audience were as they watched. He’d never known other men who enjoyed looking at naked men like he did. He’d thought he was the only one and had learned early on to hide his arousal at seeing his classmates or his brothers naked.
He was even more surprised when he noticed some of them were his neighbors, men with wives and kids, or older boys in high school who acted like they only thought about girls and who sometimes beat him up or called him faggot. Yet here they were, some of them with their flies open, fingering their dicks as they stared rapt at the sight. Seeing the open flies gave Billy courage to unzip and free his throbbing dick, dribbling pre-cum inside his jeans.
Billy startled when he felt a hand on it, looked down and saw the young neighbor who owned the farm a few miles down the road kneeling in front of him, looking up at his boyish face. Billy had seen this man working before while out riding his bike, shirtless. He wasn’t anywhere near as large as the members of the circus, but he was still muscular and well-toned for a man whose only exercise was farm work and whose diet consisted of ordinary farm food. Billy especially loved seeing his arms and chest, covered with dense dark hair.
Before Billy knew what was happening the man opened his mouth and took Billy’s boner deep into his throat. Billy gasped and grabbed at the man’s head, instinctively holding his mouth tightly to his groin. The man sucked hard along Billy’s stiff prick, sending hot, tingling sensations all through Billy’s body.
Billy looked up at the stage. The fantastically talented performer was drawing his amazingly endowed partner deeper and more forcefully into his chest, spewing trails of saliva and coating the enormous member with glistening spit.
Suddenly the enormously endowed member began to convulse and fire gism, at first deep inside, then in his partner’s mouth and finally on his face, shoulders, back and even the stage. At the same time the dick swallower began to cum himself, his cock drawing back and firing load after load, and Billy and his neighbor started to cum too, like most of the crowd around them, as they looked around them at their fellow spectators, grinning.
When the show was over, Billy walked out of the tent enlightened, aware of a previously hidden world apparently all around him in which men lived out his previously unimagined fantasies. His steps were lighter. He felt more athletic, more animal.
As Billy crawled into bed that night and welcomed his evening boner for the first time he luxuriated in pleasuring himself as he fantasized about the men all around him. No longer did he feel frightened and ashamed of his feelings.
The next morning he rode his rusty old bike down the gravel road to his young neighbor’s farm. The handsome young man was shirtless in the barnyard, tools and tractor parts spread around him, repairing his tractor. Billy stopped a few yards from him and admired the lyric movement of muscle under his skin as he moved. As he remembered the man’s mouth on his cock he started to harden inside his pants. He adjusted himself to make room for it to stretch. He rode up to where the young man knelt at work, and said hi.
For a minute it seemed the man would ignore him, but finally he turned and looked blankly in Billy’s direction.
“Remember me from the circus?” Billy asked.
“You’re from the circus?” the young man replied.
“No. We – uh – we were watching the show next to each other.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t remember. Aren’t you Frank’s boy?”
Billy nodded. Was he ashamed? Was he pretending? Billy softened inside his pants. He stood a few more minutes watching the man work, then mounted his bicycle seat and coasted slowly back to the road.
The circus was packed again when Billy crawled under the fence. And although men, women and children all wandered the grounds, only men went into the show tent.
“Looking for something?” Billy heard a voice behind and above him. It was so deep and gravely he was almost unable to understand it. He turned and looked up. The most muscular man Billy had ever seen towered over him, silhouetted by the noon sun. He put a powerful paw on Billy’s frail shoulder.
His touch aroused him, but Billy burst into tears.
“What is it, little man?” He dropped to his knees and engulfed Billy’s slender frame in his beefy arms. Billy shook with sorrow he hadn’t even realized was inside him.
When his tears slowed, the strong man wiped the wet from his cheeks and kissed his head. Billy told him he had been at the show. He told him how he felt, what had happened with his neighbor in the audience and how his neighbor had treated him today.
The strong man stood. He took Billy’s hand in his and led him to the front of the show tent. He pointed to the huge canvas signs draped down the front. Most of them featured buxom women minimally draped in wisps of sheer fabric. A few included muscular men the likes of which Billy had seen at the circus, but those were less prominently displayed.
The tent was at the edge of the circus, away from the midway and the rides where the same men who crowded the entrance of the tent escorted their wives, girl friends and children, where they left them for an hour or two to slake the thirsts they barely admitted to their families they had.
“You see why the men go inside the tent? What they see when they’re inside is not what they are expecting. One might expect they would be disappointed, but even the most skittish are overcome by the performance. Even men who would never look that way at their neighbor can be excited by the spectacular, and my men and I are no ordinary men. They leave satisfied, but unable to understand what they’ve experienced. A few hours later I doubt they even remember what they saw.”
Billy felt the strong man’s powerful, thick forearm on his neck and the tickling hair that surrounded it like an aura of masculinity. He wanted to bury his face in the man’s chest. He wanted to feel the man’s generous curves and firm musculature with his hands, against his entire small body.
“But some men in the audience are much more than pleasantly surprised. Those men come back again and again. A few of them even follow the circus when it leaves town. And the most seduced among them eventually join us.”
Billy’s heart raced. To be surrounded by men like these, to be one of them, was a wish so powerful he was barely able to breathe.
“Is that what you want to do, little man?”
That night Billy climbed out the window of his second story bedroom and shimmied down the pole that supported the porch roof. He left behind everything he owned. On his bed was a note to his parents, but the note didn’t say where he was going.
His first night away from home Billy slept under a circus trailer with his knapsack as his pillow. He was too terrified to sleep in the field near the fence for fear they might pack up and leave while he slept, but the bright morning sky woke him at dawn. He was awake, his young stomach growling, when he heard rustling inside the trailer over his head and saw it start to shake. He stood suddenly, afraid it might fall on his head, then sat back down nearby waiting for it to stop. Though relatively inexperienced, Billy could imagine what was going on inside. It made his morning hard-on leak all the more to imagine two - or maybe more - of the giant circus men pleasuring their thickly muscled bodies. He was too bashful to take his hard dick out of his pants, but when he could see no one was in plain sight, he rubbed it hard with the heel of his palm.
When the shaking subsided, Billy gathered his knapsack and walked up the wooden stairs. He rapped tentatively on the door. "Who is it?" a deep voice yelled. When Billy didn't answer, knowing his name would mean nothing to the men inside, he heard the sound of bare feet on the wooden floor boards. The door opened. A hairy man with coal black shoulder-length hair opened the door wearing an all over under garment unbuttoned to his waist, the thin sleeves pushed halfway up his massively muscled forearms. The thick fur on his stomach and chest couldn't begin to hide his deeply etched muscle definition. He was by far the biggest of all the men Billy had seen at the circus so far. The man was ready to be annoyed, but the sight of a young man with doe-like eyes staring up at him with admiration and awe softened his tone. "What is it?"
"I - I want to join the circus," Billy stuttered.
The dark-haired man crossed his massive arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame. "Son, we leave town today and we won't be coming back here until next year some time at the earliest. Do your folks know about this?" His deep voice made the trailer vibrate.
"I ain't from around here, sir. My folks passed a long while back."
The dark haired man thought he could tell a lie when he heard one, but it was the lie that convinced him to let the young man in and hear him. Billy's eyes adjusted to the dim light of the dingy unpainted dull grey interior. He wasn't surprised to see three more heavily muscled men sitting and lying on a small bare mattress in the corner of the floor, all of them naked and two of them still sporting immense erections that he found intensely distracting.
"Have you been to our circus before..." the dark haired man asked.
"Yes, sir. A couple days ago. And I saw what happens inside the tent near the fence, sir. That's why I want to join. I'm like you guys. I mean I wish I was like you guys, but in a way I am now."
"So it don't bother you, boy, when I grab my friend's big dick, here?" one of the studs sitting on the edge of the mattress asked as he reached over to the stiffy that stuck up between his friends massive legs and threatened to graze his protruding pecs.
"No, sir." Billy swallowed hard. The crotch of his pants began to swell with boyish enthusiasm.
"And it don't bother you none if I take it in my mouth like this?" Dillon searched Billy's wide eyes, then sucked up the first few inches of his friend's amazing stiff cock.
"N - no, sir."
Dillon came off his dick, reached for his friend's ankle and lifted it high in the air. He knelt on the floor between his wide splayed legs. "What if I fuck him like this?" Dillon plunged deep inside and began vigorously pounding his buddy's hugely round hard ass. His partner's stiff dick swelled even thicker at the sudden attention. The trailer began to shake and Billy realized what had been going on before when he was outside.
The dark haired man stepped between Billy and the two men. "I think that's enough questions for now." Billy tried surreptitiously to look around the man’s giant frame. He'd never seen men do that to each other before, but instantly he knew he wanted to try it. By the way Dillon's friend was groaning and bucking into Dillon's hard thrusts, Billy thought it must feel really good. The dark haired man turned Billy around by the head and marched him back out the door. He closed it behind them.
"You convinced me you ought to stay, Billy. My name is Sampson. I’m the circus strong man.” Sampson held out his hand for Billy to shake. Billy tried to shake it, but until Sampson began to shake his hand he couldn’t even make it budge. “Let me introduce you to Harold. He can get you some breakfast and then I’ll show you where to put your sack."
Billy should have been used to the fact that all the men where huge at the circus, but when he saw Harold, his eyes almost popped out of his head. Not only was Harold big, he was hairy. Not hairy like Dillon; hairy like an animal. His whole body was covered in thick, short reddish fur like a cat or a dog, even the palms of his hands and the soles of his feet. He kept from staring when Harold was serving him, but when he turned away, Billy couldn't take his eyes off him. It was unusual, but also sexy in a way Billy wouldn't have been able to imagine.
Billy was still looking at him around Sampson as the two of them sat at a makeshift table with benches on either side while Billy ate. The food didn’t look very appetizing. It looked like ground meat in gravy, but the color was vaguely purple. Billy hardly noticed what he was eating though; he was so engrossed in watching the men around him.
“What can you do, Billy?” Sampson asked Billy as he devoured scoops of slop off his badly beaten tin plate.
Billy looked Sampson in the eye. “Pardon?”
“Everyone in a circus has to do some kind of job. Some of the men have special talents. Some of their talents you’ve seen, and maybe someday soon you’ll develop a special talent, but if you don’t have a special talent, you need to do some kind of work. What kind of work can you do?”
“I do chores on my parent’s farm,” Billy said, not even realizing that he’d answered in the present tense which contradicted his earlier orphan story.
“Then you ought to be real strong, Billy. You ought to be able to do just about anything we ask you. Maybe cleaning the animal cages? Or helping Harold with the cooking? And maybe you can tend my cabin for me. I been needing someone to clean costumes and keep my quarters clean.”
It was decided without Billy even having to assent. After he finished eating his breakfast, Sampson took him to the animal cages. In the afternoon Sampson brought him to his trailer, where Billy started cleaning. From that day on Billy was apprenticed to the circus strong man. He lived in Sampson’s trailer as his personal valet and slept on a cot a few feet from his bed. Billy was so intensely aroused in the evening as he watched the strong man undress for bed it took hours for him to fall asleep. It wasn’t just that Sampson was huge; his muscles were also unbelievably well-defined. They appeared as solid as rocks, but they bulged like balloons. The separation between them was so pronounced it was as though they were individual cables and ribbons of steel. As wide as his back was, he had the most narrow waist Billy had ever seen on a man, and each of his abdominal muscles were separated so deeply Billy could have fit a finger between them. Only after the strong man’s breathing slowed and he knew he was asleep could Billy relieve his sexual tension and fall asleep himself.
Most of the time Sampson slept alone. But sometimes in the evening one of the other men came back to the trailer with him. The two of them would undress each other like Billy wasn't even in the room. One of them would start fucking the other and Billy would be left sitting there, watching them. At least while they were fucking neither of them noticed Billy masturbating, they were so lost in each other's bodies.
During the day he cleaned the animal cages, washed dishes at the mess tent and swept floors. As days passed Billy noticed changes in himself. His arms and legs grew thicker. His chest and back widened. At first he thought it was the labor, but he’d always worked hard on the farm. After a few weeks his clothes no longer fit him. The sleeves and the legs were too tight, and the leggings stopped midway down his calves. The seat of his pants began to separate. Finally his shoulders tore the sleeves loose and he had to wear the clothes the men in the circus wore. On him they were immensely oversized, but it was a constant reminder to Billy of how large they all were and it excited him to think how tightly they filled what he swam inside.
When they were camped near a town and the show tent was up, whenever he could get away from his chores, Billy snuck into a show. The “sword” swallower was only one of the spectacularly arousing acts. Gradually as the summer season progressed, Billy witnessed the special talents of his compatriots in the circus.
One of his favorites was the mentalist. Usually he used volunteers from the audience. Hands went up all around the tent. The man on the stage pointed out in the crowd and a young man bounded up on the stage. The MC asked him his name – Amos -- and repeated it into the microphone for those who hadn’t heard. The audience applauded. Then he asked him to take off his clothes and the young man dropped everything without a moment’s hesitation. The audience cheered even louder. He looked like he’d been working out several years and certainly had nothing to be ashamed of between his legs, but he was no where near a match for the real performers. Still, Billy was boned while he watched him.
The MC asked if he believed in mind control. Amos said, “No, sir, I don’t.” The MC wasn’t ruffled.
“You ever performed sex acts with another man on stage in front of 500 other men?” he asked.
“No, sir. I never have.”
“Why not? Have you ever had sex with another man?”
“Ever wanted to?”
“No that I can remember,” Amos said with a grin.
“Have you ever boned up on stage?”
Amos looked down and saw his penis swelling and stretching, raising itself higher and higher until it pointed straight up tight against his ridged abdomen.
“Not before now,” Amos leaned toward the mike and answered.
“How does it feel?” the MC asked.
“Damn good!” Amos thumped it a few times on his abs and smiled wide.
“Do you feel proud, Amos?”
“You sure should! That’s a fine piece of man meat, ain’t it men?” the MC offered.
The crowd cheered and clapped. It must have been at least nine inches long, Billy thought, and it was one of the thickest he’d ever seen, except for the bullet tipped head, wrapped in thin foreskin, that suddenly came to a blunt point. No matter how much the men whooped, though, they couldn’t help but notice that the mentalist’s flaccid member, dangling down between his muscular, veiny thighs, was almost twice as long and just as thick.
“It feels good to be hard, doesn’t it, Amos?” the MC said, seductively. “And it feels even better when you get harder.”
Amos’ dick twitched and grew a deeper shade of red. His eyelids started to droop and his jaw went slack.
“And the harder you get, the bigger it gets, don’t it, Amos.”
Amos’ cock twitched to every beat of his racing heart, and even from the audience you could see it was getting bigger, longer and even thicker, until it must have been almost a foot long. Amos groaned.
“Can you feel the cum pushing up from your balls, Amos?”
Amos’ balls began to churn inside his scrotum.
“Can you feel the unbelievable tightness in your dick? Huh, Amos?”
Amos couldn’t even answer.
“Can’t take it any more, can you, Amos? Amos?”
Amos managed a gurgly, guttural “no” before his swollen cock erupted in a shower of gism six feet into the air over his head. He held tight to it with both of his hands trying to take back control as it fired long, gushing bursts that splattered all over the stage.
It must have been ten or more minutes before it stopped and Amos crumpled to his knees in a pool of his own cum, the men in the audience hooting and hollering wildly, some of them erupting themselves, in near synchronicity to Amos.
“How you doing, Amos?” the MC asked. Amos just nodded unable to speak. “How you feel?"
"I feel good, thank you," Amos answered somewhat breathlessly, but nonetheless politely.
"Do you need a rest, Amos?"
"No, sir. I'm just catchin' my breath a bit."
An appreciative laugh rolled around the tent.
"Well good, Amos, because we're just beginning our act together," the MC said to Amos, but he faced the audience as he spoke into his mike. Now that the audience's attention was away from Amos, they could begin to appreciate just how magnificent the mentalist’s physique was. He was average in height, perhaps five foot ten or so, but he must have weighed more than two hundred and fifty pounds, and not an ounce of visible fat. His waist was barely thirty inches, flat ridges of stony muscle filling out as they rose toward his broad lats and the start of his thick chest. His shoulders were more than three times the width of his waist and his upper arms were almost as wide as his waist. He'd been shaved for the show, but the members of the audience that stood near the stage could see blond stubble on his chin and his chest. His thighs were even wider, riddled with veins near his crotch, ending in giant teardrops of muscle near his knees. The MC turned toward the kneeling farmer and let his pendulous dick wiggle near Amos' nose. "Do you see my cock, Amos?"
"Do you like it?"
"It's a good bit bigger than yours, don't you think?"
The MC held the microphone down near Amos as he began to speak. "It's a good bit bigger than any I ever saw my whole life," Amos admitted. Laughs from the audience.
"How big do you think it gets when it's stiff?" the MC asked. Amos didn't get the chance to answer. The MC's member began to elongate and fill out, demanding his full attention. It reached almost to his knees before it started to rise, heartbeat by heartbeat, forcing Amos to dodge as it rose past his face and pointed upwards at a forty-five degree angle. From Amos' position, his eyes at groin level, the view was majestic. Marbled with thick veins it sprouted thick as his wrist and rose almost two feet, cresting above his forehead. "Would you like to suck on it, Amos?" the MC asked. "How about it, men, do you want to see Amos try to suck on it?"
Applause rose from the audience, punctuated with hoots.
Amos grasped the base of the MC's cock and tilted it down to his mouth. He glanced toward the crowd, grinned, and opened his mouth just as wide as he could. By itself the head was as big as a huge lemon. It stuffed Amos' mouth completely. But Amos was determined to make a bigger go of it than just sucking on the head. He stretched his lips wider still, and his throat muscles strained as he struggled to inhale it. It was deep in his throat, visibly distending his thorax before he relented and let it back up into his mouth. The audience cheered, but Amos didn't even pause. He sucked hard on the head, drawing a deep groan from the MC, and then dove hard toward his groin and pushed it even deeper. A gasp escaped the lips of someone in the front row.
"O - o - oh, Amos! You sure you never sucked dick before?" the mentalist recovered enough to joke. He let the mike drop to his side and placed his other hand at the back of Amos' head to encourage his ferocious dives down his stiffening member. He widened his stance and braced his mighty legs. Amos was unstoppable now, fighting harder and harder to inhale the fleshy log poking down his throat, and even though he never made it more than halfway down, he made up from his shortfall with slobbery, vacuum-like suction and two enthusiastic hands that twisted and milked the other half.
In just a few minutes the MC was clenching his teeth and firing hard inside Amos' throat as Amos struggled to swallow as much of the shooting cream as he could. When he had had his fill, he let it out of his mouth and just jacked it in front of his proud face, watching it shoot hard and high over his head. When the shower stopped, the MC ruffled Amos' hair and shouted into his mike, "Let's hear it for my man Amos! The best damned cocksucker in Bremerton County!"
As the audience cheered and clapped, Amos gathered his clothes and walked back off the stage, his dick stiff as a pipe and bobbing against his stomach. The crowd welcomed him into their midst. Two or three of them excitedly fondled his arms, chest and stiff dick. One of them knelt at his feet and began to give him the relief he'd more than earned.