Living the legend - part 4 of 6 (written by Harry and Jimmy)

Yesterday Gino and Jayden dove into the world of Pankration, and today we are witnessing a fierce fight in this spectacular crossover story written collaboratively by Harry (author of the awesome Pankration series) and Jimmy (author of the awesome Gino and Jayden series). Harry and Jimmy - thank you so much, you are awesome! Now enjoy today's chapter!

Previous parts:
Pankration
Gino and Jayden

Warning: Can contain traces of cum.

*** Gino vs Lysander ***

When Theo announced his name, Gino walked to the center of the arena. He heard a scattered, polite applause, but Gino did not have any illusions. He was an outsider here, and most of the audience was here to see him submit. ‘Sorry guys, not gonna happen,’ he thought, cracking his neck on either side.

Gino’s opponent was in the arena already, killing time while waiting for him. Lysander was doing knuckle pushups, and he continued counting reps until Gino cleared his throat to make himself known. Either he started counting at 100, or the kid’s a maniac, Gino thought. The young Spartan popped up wearing a toothy grin. Sweat streamed down his narrow chest, and his cut torso glistened from his calisthenics work. Defying the humidity, the colic in his black hair stuck up ridiculously.  

“Hey, Gino! Thought you might chicken out,” Lysander dared in a raspy voice. “Most guys are too scared to wrestle against a Spartan.”

The way Lysander looked at him out of the corner of his eye told Gino that this kid was not used to talking shit in earnest; he was just enjoying sounding like a tough guy. Gino had to appreciate the guy’s work ethic, though. The veins stood out on his shoulders and biceps, running down his smooth, bronzed arms like taut cords. His lean, rippling torso terminated in a tight V and an unusual cotton jock of a kind that Gino had never seen before. Instead of two straps in the back, a single twisted cord rose up between the Spartan warrior’s ass cheeks. The bulge in the front of the jock made Gino...want to explore a bit.

Gino remembered something Logan told him recently during training. ‘Lots of opponents will tell you how to beat them. You just have to listen when they do.’ At the time, sounding like a know-it-all had earned Logan a cracking backhand into his nuts. But now it occurred to Gino that there may have been some wisdom in his coaching after all. He’d have to remember to apologize to his Captain later.   

“Actually, wrestling against a Spartan has always been on my bucket list,” Gino confessed, doing his best to sound humble. “The guys back home will never believe this.” He shifted his weight and moved a little closer to his opponent.

“Exactly!” Lysander crowed happily. “Finally somebody who knows how badass the Spartans are!” He puffed up his chest. “Want me to show you some moves before we start?” Gino bit his tongue to keep up his meek charade as long as possible. He nodded and took another half step closer.  

“That would be so cool of you,” Gino gushed. “When does the match start, by the way?”

“Well, technically it already started, but no hurry. Okay, so let’s start with the basics...”

As Lysander demonstrated a proper wrestling stance, Gino’s foot whistled up between his legs. The Spartan was so pleased to have an admiring pupil that he didn’t even notice Gino move until his nuts were being launched up toward his throat. Lysander’s wide gray eyes blinked at Gino uncomprehendingly, just before the pain exploded out from his groin. His eyes traveled sadly down to the bulge in his fundoshi, just in time to see Gino’s foot flash up again, flatting his junk with a warm splatting sound. Lysander cupped his aching lumps as his legs turned to jelly, and he tipped over in a heap.

Every guy in the audience cringed at the sound of a dude’s nads getting audibly deflated—every guy except Gino. The handsome wrestler only ever fought fair so that he could find an opening to fight dirty, and crunch of Lysander’s nuts under his bony foot was like music to his ears.

“Oh oh oh oh oh...” Lysander’s face was in the sand of the arena floor, with only one thing on his mind. “Oh my baaaaaaaaalls,” he groaned. He cupped his tender bits and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that the worst of the pain would pass him by. It didn’t.
   
Gino walked casually around Lysander, shaking his head at how easy it is to turn a proud warrior into a puddle of self-pity. When he was directly behind his opponent, Gino paused and licked his lips. The firm, bronzed globes of Lysander’s ass waved in the air. The winding cord stretched between his cheeks from the waistband to where his fingers poked out between his crotch.

Gino clicked his tongue. That kind of tease deserves to be punished with a wedgie, he decided. He tip toed closer, preparing to grab the back of his opponent’s fundoshi and yank him into submission. But in the last moment, Lysander evaded his grasp by tucking his shoulder in a neat somersault. He rolled agilely back to his feet and scowled at Gino; his cool gray eyes looked stormy.

“You’re a dirty fighter.” Lysander stated the obvious as he wiped the sand from his shoulders. One hand still cupped his soft bulge cautiously, but he squared his shoulders with determination and looked ready to fight. Gino nodded, appreciating the guy’s toughness but not understanding why he seemed mad.

“Uh, isn’t that the point?” Gino asked. “Prince Charming over there told me that low blows are totally...” he looked to Nico for confirmation, but the blonde had his hands raised and a look of innocence on his face.

“Okay, so now I’m the bad guy. Thanks Coach,” Gino muttered. But it gave him an idea. “Actually,” he told Lysander confessionally, “Prince Charming told me that Spartans have the biggest...” Gino pointed toward his own crotch, then made a point of staring at Lysander’s crotch. The black-haired teen covered the mound between his legs protectively and chewed his lip. Gino took a small step forward.

“Well...” Lysander’s raspy voice sounded uncertain, but Nico’s approval was enough to conjure a bit of confidence. “Well, yeah, everybody knows that.” He put his hands on his slim hips, so the damp cotton revealed the imprint of his blossoming manhood. Even though the proud guy was not quite in the same league as himself, Gino was captivated by his curves and lumps. He took another small step closer.

“So you don’t mind if I check...” Gino sent his foot flying up between Lysander’s legs once again. Another surprise attack. But this time there was no satisfying crunch, just the whisper of empty air. Gino looked confused for a second. Then his leg was swept out from under him, and he crashed onto his back in the sand.

This kid is quick. Before Gino even completed the thought, there was a blur in his peripheral vision. Lysander leapt into the air and came down with a double stomp into Gino’s guts. Even with his abs partly flexed, the full weight of his opponent made Gino feel like he’d been hit by a bus. He gulped air and doubled up, only to be greeted with a knee strike to the side of his skull. The glancing blow sent him back to the ground with his head ringing.

Gino squinted up into the hazy Greek sky, feeling tightness in his chest. The shadow that loomed over him resolved into the silhouette of his opponent, colic and all. Lysander had one bare foot on his chest and the other still buried in his gut.

“Nico is right about Spartans having the biggest privates,” Lysander said. He was trying to talk shit again, and he’d leaned down close enough now so that Gino could see the twinkle in eyes. “But I’m the only one who can touch them.”

The two combatants glared at each other, then a look of confusion passed over both their faces. Lysander quickly tried to correct his awkward phrasing. “I mean, you can’t touch them. My privates. Uh, but not that I’m the only one who ever touches them...” His nostrils flared, and he tried to look extra warlike after his voice broke a little. “Actually I don’t touch...”

“Your privates!...Oh god, I bet you’re touching them nonstop!” Gino’s laughter made his chest quake, causing Lysander to lose his balance and tumble down from his dominant position. Both fighters scrambled to their feet and dropped into wrestling stances. As they slowly circled each other, Gino continued to dog the blushing Spartan by pausing every so often to grope the bulge in his singlet.

“Don’t worry about these,” Gino mocked, jiggling his ample equipment under his fingertips. “I’m sure you’re far too busy touching your own.”

Gino’s deep chuckle echoed around the courtyard, and his antics were rewarded by the sound of laughter from the crowd. Although he was the outsider, it seemed that the guys watching didn’t mind a few jokes at their buddy’s expense. Meanwhile Lysander’s resentment of the teasing reached a boiling point. The Spartan wrestler sprung forward like a canon shot, tackling Gino in a double-leg takedown. Gino tried to sprawl, but Lysander was faster and ended up on top of him. The teens grappled fiercely, with Gino twisting to break free and Lysander kicking up sand to gain even more leverage. The blur of taut muscles and glistening skin was punctuated by the occasional grunt of pain or frustration.

Gino was relieved when Lysander seemed to slow down first. The black-haired warrior still had the advantage of clenching Gino’s waist from behind, but he released Gino’s arm as he leaned panting against his back. Both boys paused to rest a moment.

“Aww. Did somebody get tuckered out? Too many pushups before the match?” Gino pulled forward but found that Lysander’s legs were still twined around his own. As Gino yanked at his trapped limb, Lysander leaned farther across his back, clasping his hands just below his opponent’s knee.

“What the...?” Gino ducked his head to see what Lysander was doing. It was a critical mistake. Lysander clenched down on both of Gino’s legs, wrapping one with his arms and the other with his own legs. Hanging on tightly, the Spartan twisted his hips and hurled them both over in a somersault. When the dust settled, Gino was on his back with both legs wrenched back so that his feet were on either side of his shoulders. Lysander was still wrapped around behind him, but now Gino’s head and shoulders were pressed against the teen’s sweaty torso. His limbs were pinioned. For all intents and purposes he was immobilized.

“Fuck.” Gino grunted, staring up at the mottled sky. He looked back down over his own straining body, staring right between his ludicrously spread legs. His singlet strained from his bulge and from the tension of the hold. “Fuck,” he repeated. All of a sudden, the clouds above looked more menacing.

*********

“Textbook spladle,” Theo announced cheerfully, holding his hand up to Amun for a high five. The Egyptian prince returned it in a reserved fashion, with a rather unsatisfying result. But even looking like a dork couldn’t dampen Theo’s mood.  

“Best hold of all time. Looks like the new guy Gino is just begging to show us his big, dopey nuts.” Theo turned around and gave Nico a smug look. The brunette was still peeved at his best friend for volunteering to coach the new guys. “Let’s chalk this one up for the Lost Princes!”

Nico was unruffled. “Wow. Now you’re not only a wrestling aficionado but Lysander’s biggest fan, too? This day really is full of surprises.” Nico pursed his lips and scratched his chin teasingly. Theo crossed his arms in a sulk and turned back to the match. Now he really wanted Lysander to break the new guy.

*********

‘This is the worst hold of all time,’ Gino lamented.

Despite his best efforts, neither power nor wriggling could get him out of the spladle hold. He vaguely remembered Logan teaching the move to the team. If only he had paid attention to the escape part. But instead of listening during practice, he’d been planning how to punch Logan in the dick for making them practice escapes.

‘Ugh. I’ll have to apologize to him for that, too.’

“Hey, Gino?” Lysander’s raspy whisper came from just behind Gino’s ear.

“What do you think you’re laughing at, Spartan boy?” he growled.

“Do you think everybody else can see your privates like I can?”

Gino didn’t bother responding. He was fully aware that he looked ridiculous. With his legs pulled apart, it was like his steak and eggs were being served up to the crowd of strangers.

“Well, I don’t think they’re drooling quite as much as you are,” he said sourly.

Lysander torqued down on the hold, making Gino grimace. The spandex stretched even tighter across his junk, so it was easy to see how his cock drooped down toward his belly button. His balls were spread out above, visible in high relief thanks to his sweat and exertions.

“Hey, Gino?”

“Do you annoy your friends with this many questions?”

Lysander giggled, and Gino imagined that he was nodding affirmatively.

“Do you think you might be part Spartan?”

This was not a question that the jock was expecting, and he was flummoxed.

“...because your privates look pretty big too.” Lysander underscored his point by rapping his knuckle against Gino’s firm right testicle. There was no power behind it, but it sure got Gino’s attention.

“Nope,” Gino wheezed. “All American beef here.”

Lysander missed the pun, however. He was too captivated by watching Gino’s big nut bounce up and down under his knuckle. Even a light tap was enough to send the fat orb wiggling back and forth, as if it was trying to evade further investigation. Lysander bit his lip and concentrated hard. Then he drove the tip of his index finger into the soft meat of Gino’s left testicle, skewering it into his abdomen. Gino’s eyes bugged out, and he hissed lowly as familiar pain began to pulse in waves from his undefended sac.

“I dare you to try that again when I’m...aaahghggh!”

“Dare accepted,” Lysander replied happily, jabbing his fingers into Gino’s defenseless balls a couple more times. He cracked up at the squishy feeling each time he was able to pin one down. Gino was not laughing.

“You didn’t let me finish...UGH...you little shit! I meant I dare you to try that again when I’m standing up!”

“You hit me in the privates first!” Lysander said petulantly. He squinted one eye as if taking aim at Gino’s big, bouncing nuggets.

“Don’t you dare...gaaaaaaawwwwd...ughughug...” Gino swallowed his threats (and possibly his whole tongue) as Lysander’s closed fist hammered down on his testicles. This time there was nothing exploratory about the blow, and Gino’s nads were squashed rhythmically and relentlessly. Even when Lysander’s aim was off a bit, his fist smashed Gino’s flaccid shaft into his abdomen with bruising force.

The crowd of Lost Princes sitting near Jayden cheered for Lysander and jeered at Gino’s embarrassing position. The skin-tight singlet framed every smush and bounce of the proud wrestler’s gonads. The raucous spectators imitated Gino’s crossed eyes and lolling tongue with goofy looks. Seated among the crowd, Jayden didn’t find their antics funny at all. He was confident that his big bro could absorb a lot of abuse, but he winced to imagine how Gino’s big nuts must be swelling up. “Come on, Gino! You’ve got this!” Jayden yelled passionately.

Lysander noticed Jayden screaming. “Hey, Gino?”

“Urh?” His chest was heaving, and a faint taste of iron told him that he’d bit his tongue.

“Are you gonna watch your brother’s match?”

Gino twisted his head around to stare at his odd opponent. “Of course. I love him, and he’s gonna wreck that...fuuuuucckerrrr...” Lysander cut the threat short with another hammer blow. Gino’s nuts were pretty softened up by now, and his fist sunk in deep.

After a pause, he continued. “Is it okay if I watch with you? ‘Cause I usually watch with Theo. But he’s fighting. Or with Nico, but he’s sort of mad today. So...” From the deep hole of testicular sorrow, Gino gaped at the Spartan with bleary eyes. Lysander was looking at him expectantly.

“Whatever.” Gino blinked to clear his head. This kid is freaking weird, and I need to get out of this hold, he thought.  

“That’ll be so cool,” Lysander breathed in relief. He kept nodding at Gino encouragingly, though the older guy was not sure why.

“Uuuhh...what?”

“So, you just have to submit first, then we can watch together.” Lysander nodded again, as if it was a mere technicality. As if submitting was the most obvious thing that Gino would want to do. “That’s how the Pankration works.”

“You mother fucker.” Gino rolled his eyes. ‘Why did I pick this guy?’ he mouthed silently to the Greek heavens. ‘Ugh. The things I’ll do for a cute face and a nice package.’ He twisted around to face Lysander once again. The black-haired teen gave him a toothy smile.

‘Exactly my type.’ Gino slapped his palm against his forehead. ‘Goofy. Sweet. Smarter than he looks. But maybe just dumb enough...’

“You know,” Gino began. His deep voice vibrated against Lysander’s rib cage. “Submitting to a Spartan stud wouldn’t be so bad.” Lysander’s grin spread from ear to ear.

“Except that Prince Charming over there,” Gino nodded toward Nico and lowered his voice to a whisper. “He told me about your weak spots.” As he spoke, Gino watched Lysander’s reaction carefully. ‘Lots of opponents will tell you how to beat them.’ Even if Nico hadn’t actually told him anything worth remembering, his captain Logan had. Lysander’s gray eyes flashed down to his chest and gave him away immediately.

Gino snickered and bared his teeth. The one advantage of being stuck in a painful and embarrassing spladle was that his head was resting against his opponent’s rib cage. In just the time it took to crane his neck around, he had Lysander’s nipple caught in his teeth. The Spartan’s dime-sized nip was smooth and perky, and it hardened almost immediately.

“Mmm-hmm-hmm,” Gino hummed, swirling his tongue over the excited bead and grinding his teeth soft enough not to bite. The taste of salt and sand and oil was intoxicating, as were the surprised, stuttering sounds that Lysander was making.

‘Never mind. I totally picked the right one to fight,’ Gino sucked contentedly.

“Hee-eey...Giii-iii-nooo...” Lysander’s chest was heaving from the focused attention on his sensitive nipple. The tone in his raspy voice made it clear that he was not accustomed to guarding this particular point of his anatomy. His grip on his opponent slackened.  

As he felt Lysander’s grip on his legs loosen, Gino gathered his strength. He’d been locked in the unnatural position for long enough that his legs were partly numb, but it was now or never. Savoring one last nibble on Lysander’s tit, Gino wrenched his left leg free. Breaking the hold left Lysander’s knees gaping open for just a second. Gino didn’t waste his chance; he drove his free elbow back between the teen warrior’s legs.

From close range, Lysander’s nuts were like fish in a barrel. Gino’s bony elbow squashed the Greek’s tender bits deep into the sand, shattering his grip. Two more vicious elbows followed. Splat. Splat. Lysander made weird gurgling noise in his throat as his attention shifted to the fire that had erupted between his legs. Gino rolled stiffly to his feet and began massaging the feeling back into his legs. He cupped his balls through his sheer singlet and winced. They throbbed, but he’d had worse.

“Speaking of worse,” Gino spoke aloud and looked down at his opponent, who was undulating in the sand like a severed worm. He put his foot on the small of Lysander’s back and grabbed him by his coarse, black hair.

“You’re meaner than you look, you know,” Gino scolded lightly. Lysander snarled and twisted his head away, but he was held firmly. “But maybe that’s just because you haven’t shown me your nicest parts yet.” Something in Gino’s tone made Lysander squirm.

Gino looked around the audience and found Jayden quickly. His bro’s chocolate brown eyes were wide with joy and adrenaline. Winking at his biggest fan, Gino grabbed the waistband of Lysander’s fundoshi and ripped it up and off in single motion, leaving the Spartan fully nude. Gino waved the destroyed garment above his head like a trophy. He saluted the booing crowd, playing up the part of the bully by pressing his stripped opponent under his foot.

Lysander pawed at the sand with his bare feet, but with Gino wrenching his hair and standing on the small of his back, he wasn’t able to get much leverage. On top of that, his well-trained muscles were feeling sluggish after having his balls knocked around so many times. But with grim determination, the downed warrior dragged himself across the sand on his elbows.

Gino was not accustomed to feeling conflicted, but he was starting to feel...funny. His opponent was clearly tough and too proud to give up. But even if Gino had wanted to admire all that heroic bit, he kept getting distracted by the round globes of Lysander’s ass. The way those smooth mounds bunched and stretched was mesmerizing. Gino watched a bead of sweat disappear down his opponent’s crevice, and then—well, he wasn’t sure how much time passed, actually. Taking a couple deep breaths to clear his head, Gino found his focus. Two plump orbs trailed along in the sand as Lysander crawled forward. The shiny skin stretched over his smooth sac, sparkling like a treasure meant just for Gino.  

‘A perfect package indeed,’ Gino noted. He flicked his wrist a few times, twisting the remains of Lysander’s garments into a ragged whip. With the experience earned from many locker room jousts, Gino snapped the twisted cloth with perfect precision. The tip cracked across Lysander’s shiny left nut, leaving behind a bright red imprint.

“Yooooowww-aaaahhhhh!!” Lysander’s hoarse voice carried clear across the arena. The crowd quieted in surprise. Gino flicked his wrist again, this time leaving his mark on the Greek boy’s right testicle. Lysander screeched again. In other circumstances, the Spartan would have been appalled to let such an un-macho sound escape his lips.

As the echoes of Lysander’s shout died out, they were replaced by giggling and finally by full-bellied, mirthful laughter. Jayden was clutching his stomach, enjoying the spectacle of his brother’s dominant performance. As he became aware of the scrutiny of hostile eyes, Jayden shushed himself and slouched back in his chair. He could hear the Lost Princes grumbling. But underneath his curly bangs, pride still brightened his eyes.

Gino was still savoring the view. Each crack of the cloth made Lysander’s bare buns jump and twitch. His ball bag still peeked out teasingly from beneath him. Gino adjusted his boner in his singlet. ‘Cool it, buddy,’ he thought as the friction elicited a low grunt. ‘Don’t submit on accident.’ He tossed away the makeshift towel and got down to business.

Maintaining his grip on Lysander’s choppy black hair, Gino grabbed Lysander’s ankle with the other hand. He rocked forward then tipped over backward, landing on his ass in the sand. A few spectators chuckled, thinking Gino had tripped. But then he pushed forward with his feet still in his opponent’s back, while pulling backward on his head and ankle. The result was that Lysander was stretched like a bow & arrow. Judging by the whispering from the crowd, they hadn’t seen this kind of submission move before. And they didn’t expect it from Gino, who had seemed out of his league as a wrestler up until now.

The rays of light that managed to break through dappled clouds could not have fallen on a more perfect specimen of blossoming manhood. The strands of Lysander’s delts and forearms rippled. His lean torso nearly vibrated from effort, each muscle standing out in turn. Lysander thrashed and strained, but he was stuck tight. His neck cramped, and his back was bent to the point of breaking. But pain was nothing new to Lysander. From the time he was a toddler, the young Spartan had trained in endurance. His body was hardened, and his determination was even harder.

“Good move,” Lysander admitted with a strained voice.

“Uh, thanks?” Gino answered. “Give up?”

“Heh...no chance.” Lysander’s raspy voice was strained but confident. “I was gonna...ask you that.”   

Gino raised his eyebrows at the obstinate fighter. The corner of his mouth twisted mischievously. “Perfect.”

Gino let up the pressure briefly, then scooted forward so that his knees took the place of his feet on Lysander’s back. Too late Lysander felt the intrusive hand brush up between his legs, and before he could stop it, his nads were locked in the older wrestler’s hand.

“Ugh...not there again...” Lysander gulped. Gino pulled back on the modified version of his Bow & Arrow submission hold, only this time he torqued Lysander by his hair and his balls.

“Ooooohh...” The guys in the crowd couldn’t see Lysander’s balls since they were pulled back through his legs, but they got the gist of what Gino was tugging on. The fighter’s flaccid cock hung down over his hip bone. It swayed each time Gino tugged on his sac, and the tip brushed across the sandy floor. Gino’s thumb dug deep into the pliable nut meat, and Lysander’s mouth fell open in a silent scream.

Theo watched the devastation with one eye, massaging his temple. He couldn’t decide whether he was more aggravated with the new guy for being so cocky or with Lysander for losing. The whole thing was giving him a headache. He threw an accusing look at Nico. The blonde prince was whistling blithely, as if he wasn’t paying attention, but Theo knew better. The pained look on Lysander’s face was making Nico feel guilty about coaching the new guys.

Gino was having the time of his life. A hot guy’s nads in his hand and the attention of a whole arena of princes—what could be better? He cast a brilliant white smile at all his new friends. To Gino’s eyes they were all smiling right back. Gino leaned forward. He was sure that Lysander would see reason by now. “How about now?” he asked with a husky voice.

“You mean...” Lysander’s teeth were gritted, but he managed to speak. “...how about...you let go of my...privates...and grow some...of your own?”

Gino gaped in disbelief. ‘Not only is this guy not giving up, he’s still talking shit?’

“Alright,” Gino’s mouth was close to Lysander’s ear. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he teased. He eased up his grip on Lysander’s nuts and slid his hand over his opponent’s cock. “But I want to see all of it.” Lysander’s eyes went wide as Gino’s palm slid up his sweaty dong. The rough treatment brought tears to his eyes as his member was squeezed and yanked and prodded between Gino’s fingers. At first it wasn’t remotely erotic. Just one guy showing the other who was boss. But as Gino fell into a rhythm, Lysander understood that Gino really intended to get the measure of him. In all kinds of ways. His involuntary shudder shook both of them.

With Lysander’s hood rolled partly back, Gino rapped two fingertips insistently against his sensitive cock head. The young Spartan yelped, and his muscles surged with adrenaline, propelling him part way off the ground. Losing his grip on Lysander’s nuts, Gino wasn’t able to keep the hold locked down. He sprawled forward, but his opponent had already rolled away.

“Fuck. So close,” Gino whined.

Lysander came up crouched in the dust, his chest heaving. His cool gray eyes fixed on Gino with fury. Ever so cautiously he cupped his bruised, throbbing nuts. And with surprising shyness, he brushed the sand off of his slick, brownish knob, wishing that his erection would go away soon. Although it was jutting boldly out in front of him, Lysander hoped that nobody would notice his arousal. But Gino noticed, naturally.  

“Young man,” Gino called loudly. His voice was deep and authoritative. “What did I tell you about touching yourself like that?” His taunt had the desired effect, and Lysander immediately dropped his hands to his sides. He continued in a lower voice, so only Lysander could hear: “From now on, you only get to play with it if you invite me first.” Without breaking eye contact, Gino took the hand that had recently been wrapped around Lysander’s junk up to his face. He took a big whiff and rubbed his own chubby cock through his singlet. There were a few laughs around the arena, and the Spartan shifted uneasily.

Gino was still soaking up the laughter when Lysander’s fist clattered into his jaw. The warrior closed the gap between them astonishingly fast, and he drove Gino back with a barrage of strikes. A cross from the other direction left Gino with a bloodied lip, and a combo of knee lifts shredded his upper abs. The last sharp knee strike drove into his diaphragm, stealing his wind and staggering the larger wrestler to one knee. Fueled by his embarrassment, the Spartan did not let up. He yanked down the straps of Gino’s singlet and targeted his bulging pecs. Slap after stinging slap rang through the arena, until Gino’s pumped chest was burning red.

Not being one for defensive fighting, Gino ducked his shoulder. As soon as he detected a break in the pummeling, he pushed forward at full strength. His shoulder speared Lysander’s abs and carried them over in a tangle of limbs. As the dust settled, Gino was on top just as he’d expected. But not quite in the way he’d expected. Lysander was hanging with his shoulders against the ground. He had one leg wrapped around the back of Gino’s neck, and his other leg pinned his opposite foot.   

It’s almost like his legs are... Oh. Fuck. Gino recognized the triangle choke at the same second that Lysander cranked down on it. The brawny wrestler swayed on his feet for several seconds before crashing to his knees. Gino’s warm brown eyes dulled from the lack of oxygen; he looked blearily up at Lysander like he’d been betrayed.

The Spartan tried to look aggressive, but his goofy grin kept reappearing. “Gotcha,” he gloated happily. He tightened the choke and waited for the inevitable tap out.     

*********

In his seat under the colonnade, Jayden had never felt more helpless. He hated that Gino was losing, and he hated even more having to listen to random strangers talk shit about him. ‘These jerks don’t even know Gino.’ Jayden’s knuckles were white, but he knew he couldn’t fight all of them.

“Oh, bruuuuuh. That’s some cold shit.”

“Bet he’s wishing he hadn’t pulled off Sander’s clothes now huh?”

“Why? I’ve been wishing I could pull off that boy’s clothes for months now.”  

“Well, Ganymede, hopefully the new guy Gino likes nuts on his chin as much as you do.”

“Bitch, I’ve seen your little pair, and they wouldn’t even be a snack.”  

“...”

“Daaaaaammmn! Im’a call you ‘Snack’ from now on...”

Resisting the urge to fight the peanut gallery, Jayden’s intelligent brown eyes flickered back to the fight. Slowly, his clenched fists relaxed.  His brother was fading in the triangle choke, but there might still be hope.

“Gino! Gino!” Jayden’s voice broke from yelling so loudly. But from across the sandy courtyard, the eyes that mirrored Jayden’s found him. Jayden pantomimed a strategy madly but Gino’s eyes looked too glazed. He screamed out how to escape the hold, but the crowd was too noisy. Gino’s head lolled. He was nearly gone.

In a moment of desperation, Jayden stood up on the wall and gripped his own nuts through his singlet. His plump boynuts bulged under the stretchy fabric. Gino blinked—a tiny spark of interest. Jayden smiled radiantly. With his other hand, he mimed grabbing his oversized orbs. Then he raised his fist and made an exaggerated motion. Gino’s eyes flamed to life. He understood what he needed to do.

*********

Lysander looked down over his chiseled abs, and his chest puffed with pride. His opponent’s head was an unnatural shade of red, meaning he would tap out any second. Or pass out, which would mean an easy win either way. Lysander giggled when he noticed that his cock was resting along Gino’s cheek bone. Usually when he practiced submission grappling, he wasn’t fully naked. Not that he normally wore a lot of clothing, but this way sure felt more...rude. He bit back another grin.

“If I had a boner, it would put his eye out,” Lysander whispered to himself confidentially. Normally he would be too shy to say anything like that out loud. But Gino had said such rude things to him, it felt only fair. Lysander continued daydreaming happily, so he barely noticed when a warm, wet feeling surrounded his left gonad. It felt so great! He raised an arm and flexed his bicep for the crowd. The warm feeling lapped at his bigger right nut, drawing a contented sigh from the teen warrior’s lips. He felt his cock pulse and chub up.

“Oops, just kidding, I don’t want to actually put his eye...” Lysander looked down to where his growing erection lay across his opponent’s face. Gino’s chocolate brown eyes were staring up at him intently. Lysander jumped and almost lost his grip on the triangle hold. The moment allowed Gino to gulp some much needed air. And when they settled back down the warm feeling enveloping his big right nad was back again. Lysander looked down with trepidation.

“Hey, Gino?”

“mmmpgmm?

“Uh,” Lysander’s breath hitched as Gino’s cheeks hummed around his sensitive organ. “Uh...I forgot what I was gonna say.”

Gino spat the fat orb out of his mouth, trailing a strand of saliva. “I thought you’d never say that,” he panted in relief. Then with a cheeky wink, he pushed his tongue forward, pressing against Lysander’s taint, and then lower, tickling the smooth, supple skin of the teen’s hole. The fighter’s squeal echoed off the courtyard walls in a way that made Theo, Amun, and nearly everybody else blush.

The Spartan teen wriggled and vibrated under each exploratory lap of Gino’s tongue. Lysander had no reference for the sensations, just that they made him feel very, very funny and very, very warm. His boner was an easy gauge to read; it waved madly in front of Gino’s face, hard as rock. Finally Gino’s tongue retreated, and Lysander’s mind was pulled grudgingly back into his body. He looked down between his legs and swallowed slowly. Gino’s white teeth were flashing, pressing on his big right nut. The Spartan’s gray eyes were wide as saucers, and he shook his head desperately, but Gino’s mind was made up.

Gino wiggled his eyebrows at his rival and bit down. After softening up Lysander’s vulnerable organs with kicks, whips, and squeezes throughout their match, the soft tissue practically melted in Gino’s mouth. He ground the precious meat between his molars so hard that he could feel the pulse of Lysander’s racing blood.

Delicious, thought Gino. He looked up at the handsome boy’s appalled, tear-streaked face. But time to finish you off.    

Lysander felt like his world was ending. He couldn’t scream or even breathe. Pain surged through every nerve in his body—his legs were paralyzed, his muscles twitched erratically. One last merciless grind of his nads and he passed out cold. His head thunked softly back into the sand as his mauled junk plopped out of Gino’s mouth.

The crowd was quiet now, except for some restless shuffling of feet. The Lost Princes looked gloomy. Jayden was ecstatic, but he was wise enough to hush until the match was officially over. Both fighters lay exhausted in the sand. Gino rubbed his neck and sucked deep breaths after escaping the triangle choke. Lysander lay on his back unmoving. The spectators might have thought he was completely out of commission if not for his erection still rising proudly into the air.

Gino watched the fallen warrior’s rod as it pulsed in time with his heartbeat. “Still ready to fight?” he murmured. Lysander’s cock was perfectly straight; neither too big nor too small, perfectly proportioned to his frame. His balls drooped between his spread legs, slick with sweat and spit and bruises. “Ouch. You’re gonna feel that later, buddy. Don’t go blaming me though, ok?”

Gino knelt down next to Lysander’s shoulder and hoisted him into a kneeling position, seeming almost tender now. Lysander sagged back against the wrestler’s chest. His head rolled against his victor’s shoulder, unable to object as Gino explored his body. Gino’s thumbs traced Lysander’s small brown nipples, then his fingers roamed over the ridges of his abs and even dipped into his belly button. With palpable eagerness, Gino wrapped his hand around Lysander’s erection, admiring its heat and firmness. He rolled the skin over the soft brownish head, and the natural lube slicked his hand just enough.

“Hey, Gino?”

Gino was startled out of his reverie by the raspy whisper next to his ear. He pulled his hand back as if he’d been caught doing something bad.

“Can’t talk now. I’m really busy.” Gino said, wrapping his fingers back around Lysander’s stiff dong.

“Did Nico really tell you my weak spots?”

“Nah,” Gino snickered. “I figured them out all by myself.”

Lysander screwed his war-like look back onto his face and tried to stand up. “Then it’s my turn to find your….”

“Oh HELL no!” Gino said, pulling the irrepressible guy back against his chest. “We are DONE fighting, for fuck’s sake!” He dug his knees into the back of Lysander’s and put one arm around his neck, holding him in the kneeling position. Grumbling something about Spartans being better at wrestling than cuddling, Gino went for the final submission. He reached up between Lysander’s legs with his free hand and seized his opponent by the balls.

“Hey, Ginoo-ooo, do-ooon’t...”

But it was too late. Gino crushed Lysander’s tenderized testicles together, kneading them mercilessly. The Spartan’s mouth fell open as his male essence was owned. Gino ran his other hand down Lysander’s chest and over his abs, pinching the crown of his swaying erection. Now he really owned the guy from both ends, and they both knew it. Gino tugged up with his left hand, squeezing the shaft and polishing the exposed glans. Then he pulled back down forcefully with his right hand, rolling Lysander’s sore, sagging nuts in the meaty part of his palm. The Spartan’s body jolted like a puppet on a string.

Up—teasing his captive’s sensitive tip. Down—crushing his hot, throbbing balls. Up. Down. Up. Down. Lysander moaned continuously as he was pummeled back and forth between pain and pleasure. Before long Gino felt Lysander's trapped balls pull up toward his body, ready to release. He slowed his motion so that it was more sensual than forceful, and he was rewarded by Lysander melting back into his chest. He ran his palm over the tight, puckered skin of his rival’s scrotum.

Lysander’s breath hitched, and the hot air of the arena was thick and still. Then a jet of hot, salty-sweet splooge to hit Gino under the chin. Lysander spasmed rhythmically, the muscles of his six pack dancing as he fired off several more shots, covering both fighters in his intoxicating, sticky mess. A low whine droned in his throat and hitched whenever Gino pumped his grip. As his orgasm seeped to a conclusion, Lysander’s head fell back against Gino’s shoulder. Gino still held his spent organ, tracing soft circles around the head and making Lysander squirm.

“Woah,” Gino whispered. “I totally get the whole ‘submit your seed’ thing now. Amazing.”

Lysander didn’t feel quite so amazing, covered in his own cum after being forced to orgasm in front of his friends. Tears streamed softly down his cheeks. His tears were almost invisible amid the sweat and humidity, but Gino spotted them. He recognized the teen’s defeated expression, and he grabbed him by the chin.

“Hey! Cut it out. I picked you for a reason. See those assholes out there? Drooling with their hands in their pants? None of them is half as tough as you.” Lysander chewed his lip and looked up at Gino shyly. “Plus, I learned one thing for sure now. Nobody spunks like a Spartan!” He ruffled Lysander’s hair and slapped his pecs, then he climbed back to his feet to celebrate his victory.  

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Part 5 is coming tomorrow!