Bart is in Japan when he gets the chance to punish an alpha male sumo wrestler. Yoshimuzi will do whatever it takes to regain his honor, even if that means bending over and taking what Bart’s got to give!
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Bart worked for the Bank of Ibaraki nowadays, a small regional bank that sponsored a sumo wrestler named Yoshizumi. The Bank of Ibaraki had been trying to open a Hawaiian branch for years. Bart was helping them out with IT services related to that, but it required him to come to Japan to get to know their services and systems.
So when a major sumo tournament needed a last-minute IT person to come troubleshoot the web streaming, the Bank of Ibaraki had loaned Bart for a day. It seemed like just a free day away from his annoying coworkers and cruel boss.
But when he got there, it wasn’t a day off by any means. There was a lot of work to be done and nobody who could do anything about it but Bart. There were some major problems with the code that protected the web stream, and it wasn’t easy to fix. It took him eighteen hours of constant work and reinstallation of several complex modules, but he got the webstreaming up at the last possible moment. An executive was about to call the television studio to tell them to prepare something else, when Bart finally got the feed going. Bart had been worried he’d shame himself, possibly even get fired — the Bank of Ibaraki did not tolerate failure lightly — so when he realized it was working again, he breathed a sigh of relief.
“You have done good, Bart-san.”
“You have acquitted yourself with honor.”
Not only was he treated as a hero, he was allowed to watch the tournament with executives from the Bank of Ibaraki. They congratulated him and bowed so low to the ground it made him nervous. He knew a lot of sumo tournaments had yakuza connections, which made him wonder how he would have been punished if he failed. The yakuza did not tolerate failure lightly.
Was the Bank of Ibaraki a legitimate bank? Bart was unsure. They weren’t illegitimate — they had real customers, real deposits, real loans, and they received real payments. But Bart couldn’t know how much, if any, of their system was based on crime. It was possible most of the bank’s funds were the proceeds of crime.
“You must be proud of your success. You have saved the tournament for us all,” said the bank executive who showed him to the ritzy box where he could watch the action up close. Bart had no real desire to watch a sumo match, but he wasn’t about to turn it down.
He’d never seen a sumo match before, but he had long had a preference for big and fat men, and sumo wrestlers were among the most arousing. Perhaps their best quality, Bart thought, was not just their thick, heavy, expansive bodies but the powerful muscle they had underneath all that flab.
Really, Bart thought, sumo wrestlers were ideal specimens of man.
Bart nodded to the bank executive and acknowledged his success. He was careful not to appear arrogant about it, and he spoke of the simplicity of the problem. It was time-consuming to fix, he said, but not difficult. He did not explain that it was only a problem because the people who had originally coded the database did a poor job of it — if these people were yakuza-connected, Bart didn’t want to get his predecessors in trouble. Besides, he couldn’t explain what was wrong with the database without getting into a lot of technical details, and he could tell at a glance that this executive would zone out and fail to comprehend basically any of it.
Business executives were pretty much morons.
In the end, Yoshizumi Gagatsu lost, which was anticlimactic — after the Bank of Ibaraki saved the day technology-wise, Bart greatly hoped their sponsored wrestler would win. It seemed thematically inappropriate for Yoshizumi to lose, like Bart deserved to have an all-win day because he had won. He knew that was irrational, he wasn’t owed a positive day.
It just made his own success seem less impressive. Anyway though, he didn’t sulk.
He lingered after the tournament because he didn’t want to wade through the crowds or the traffic. The bank executives had hurried away as soon as they could. According to a conversation he half-overheard, they were going to the locker room He suspected they were planning on scolding Yoshizumi, maybe even punishing him. They had stern looks on their faces. Bart was glad he hadn’t disappointed them — those rumored yakuza connections were credible and frightening. They didn’t suffer failure gladly.
Then a tall man with a broad-barrel craggy body appeared. He bowed and said, “You are the man they call ‘Bart Dazzle’, yes?”
“Yes…”
“Please come with me. Yoshizumi would like to see you.” He turned without waiting for a response.
Bart followed nervously. He now recognized the craggy man as Kazuya Ito, Yoshizumi’s coach (which was called an oyakata, who, like they usually were, was himself a retired sumo wrestler). The oyakata led Bart to the locker room, which was behind the wrestling arena. He held the door open and motioned for Bart to enter, but he did not follow him in. Bart’s heart pounded as he entered.
What am I in for? Oh god they’re going to execute me, I know too much!
The locker room was cold and sterile, and it reeked of cleaning fluid. Bart actually preferred a messier locker room that smelled of manhood, but he wasn’t about to complain. He just went in.
Yoshizumi was there, his round body trembling as he scrubbed the floors. The flab covering his bulging muscles shook, the loincloth-like mawashi belt barely concealing the sweat and pubic hair beneath. Bart felt an onrush of intense and nearly uncontrollable desire. He had always adored champion sumo wrestlers (sekitori) like Yoshizumi. Right now, however, Yoshizumi lacked in confidence and swagger because he lost and had no doubt been scolded by his bosses. Now he had been reduced to scrubbing the sweat of his fellow wrestlers off the floor, wrinkling his nose at the salty, astringent odor that filled the air. His heavyset body jiggled, muscles flexing under all his mass, as he scrubbed at the floor. Yoshizumi frowned when he saw Bart.
“You are Bart?” Yoshizumi looked at Bart as though not comprehending the tiny gaijin’s presence. This was not the kind of tournament that saw a lot of outside visitors.
“Yes.”
“You are the computer man? You fixed the tournament, yes? You made the Internet work again.”
“That’s right,” he said.
“You are good at your job. I have failed today. I have brought shame upon myself,” he said. He stood and hung his head. His pecs flexed beneath his layer of fat — Bart could see his huge muscles beating under all his sumo-trained flesh. Bart would have gladly dropped to his knees and jerked him off right here and now.
But that seemed unlikely to be something Yoshizumi would agree to.
“Uh… Well, I’m sure you did your best,” Bart said. His eyes were drawn to that mawashi belt and the dark crevices behind the waist, where he could almost see the man’s bare cockroot. Bart blushed as he tried to avoid being too obvious about it.
“It was not good enough,” he said. “I must excise my shame. I will regain my honor. I am sorry to have let down my benefactors.” He hung his head. Bart got the impression he was repeating words that had been told to him, that he was told to have this conversation with Bart.
“Oh, okay-” Bart wanted to explain to Yoshizumi that he didn’t need to feel that bad. It was just a wrestling match. There would be more. Of course, if Yoshizumi disappointed the yakuza of Clan Rairaku, he was in for a world of punishment, so maybe he was right to feel bad. Or maybe he had thrown the match and felt guilty about it.
That seemed unlikely. Bart knew the Japanese had a strong ethic about sportsmanship, and Yoshizumi sure looked like he gave it his all out there. Bart sensed the disappointment greatly within him, like Yoshizumi thought he could have won if he had tried harder.
But Bart was too horny to think how to reassure him, and Yoshizumi seemed to think regaining his honor would be what made him feel better.
“You are wanting to do it, yes?” Yoshizumi asked, his heavy brow furrowed. He glared at Bart.
“Do it? Do what?,” Bart said.
“I will have jack off. You want jack off? I will do whatever you want, so as to regain the gathering of my honor.” Yoshizumi’s tone was a mix of hope and dread, as though a part of him wanted Bart to say no and another part was terrified he would refuse.
“What?” Bart thought for sure he had misunderstood. But then Yoshizumi repeated his request. Bart’s heart skipped a beat.
“It will remove shame from my heart,” he said. He blushed and dropped the mawashi he still wore. His cock dangled low and heavy, nice and long, beckoning for Bart to come closer. Yoshizumi’s big body trembled. “Come now. I must do as you order me to. What will you have me do?”
“Well… You really want to jack off with me?”
“Yes. It is necessary to restore honor,” he said. “I must allow myself to service one who is a winner, one who can teach me victory. I am a loser, Bart.” He leaned forward and kissed Bart on the lips, his tongue pushing into Bart’s mouth. “I do not know how to do butt jacking off. You must be having to tell me.” His English had grown more halting now, as he became more nervous.
Bart smiled as a thrill of desire ran through him. He hadn’t thought this quick-and-dirty IT job would turn into some outrageous sumo rough-trade. He blushed and touched Yoshizumi’s bare belly, caressing the soft, worn flesh of his torso.
Though there was, of course, plenty of padding there, Bart was shocked at the amount of muscle as well. The fat barely covered it up. Yoshizumi would have been a musclegod if he lost all that fat — which Bart was glad he hadn’t done. Bart sucked a few beads of sweat off his bellybutton, making Yoshizumi chortle wordlessly, nervously, his body jiggling above Bart’s head.
His flesh was warm and bready, and Bart let himself squeeze into it as he shoved his tongue into Yoshizumi’s mouth. Then he moved down his body, and he slurped the sweat off Yoshizumi’s massive torso. His bellyfat jiggled. Yoshizumi either grunted or groaned or maybe even moaned, or maybe he was ticklish and he laughed when Bart touched him, but any way, when Bart looked up, Yoshizumi was stonefacing as though nothing had happened. His dick twitched though, visible through the trembling of the loincloth-like mawashi that he still wore.
Bart rammed his hand into Yoshizumi’s mawashi, which made the big man blanche. He winced and his muscles all flexed as though he had an instinctual urge to fight Bart. Instead he sighed as his dick flopped loosely between Bart’s fingers.
It was a big, thick dick, uncut and warm, moist with sweat and throbbing in Bart’s grasp. He loved a magnificent manhood, and this was one Bart couldn’t wait to taste. But he wanted to get it hard first, and he wanted to see how far he could take this. What exactly had Yoshizumi been told to do? As Bart began stroking it, Yoshizumi’s dick swelled and pulsated beneath his grasp. Yoshizumi had suggested he would do whatever Bart told him to do. Bart wasn’t sure if he meant that literally or not, but he fully intended to push Yoshizumi to the limit.
“Will you put my dick in your mouth?” Bart asked. His voice sounded weak and frail in this locker room, which had an aura of power and machismo.
Bart wondered how many sumo wrestlers had jacked off together here before. He wished he had been around after every tournament. Though the locker room was clean and smelled of soap, he sensed beneath that the smell of sweat and bamboo, cloying and thick in the air. Manhood reeked through the lockers and soaked into the floors. The clean surfaces were only superficial, whereas Bart savored the filth.
Yoshizumi frowned but nodded his head. He sunk to his knees, but Bart directed him to lay on his back. The folds of his substantial belly jiggled as he got into position. He lay on a clean mat in an open area — apparently meant for pre-match stretching — in the back of the locker room. Outside, Bart could hear the hustle and bustle of the audience as they filed out into the parking lot; it was exciting, to hear the public just a few feet away, even if there was a wall of solid concrete keeping him protected from sight.
“I will get you off too,” Bart said. He glanced at Yoshizumi for a response, but Yoshizumi said nothing.
His horniness was so intense that Bart could do little more than repeat himself, hoping Yoshizumi wouldn’t say no or leave. But Yoshizumi looked like he had no choice and was resigned to this encounter.
Bart thought sixty-nining would be a good way to get him a little excited about it. Bart realized only at the last moment that Yoshizumi’s huge size was going to make it difficult to get into position. He certainly couldn’t mount Yoshizumi’s entire body. Even if Yoshizumi were a normal size, he was much too thick for Bart’s tiny frame.
“Yes that is good okay for certainly,” Yoshizumi said, gasping, spit dripping from his lips. He sounded like he was much too distracted to remember English grammar. “We will do it in sixty-nine style.” He laid on his back.
Bart had to bend his slim frame over that bulging gut, which he gripped like a liferaft as he reached for Yoshizumi’s cock. That was a somewhat awkward position for Bart, but it was also exactly what he wanted — it felt like he was making love to that powerful sumo belly itself. He draped himself over it and let the fresh, clean sweat there mingle with his own.
Once they were both in position, Yoshizumi swallowed Bart’s dick, his big throat stretching to accommodate it. He gagged when it hit his tongue but that didn’t slow him down any, and the sound of his choked sputtering even sounded somewhat desirous, as though he had learned to appreciate the salty manliness of Bart’s cock. Warmth suffused Bart’s body, and he moaned even before they had begun.
“Oh, yes, Yoshizumi…”
Bart licked Yoshizumi’s dick from root to tip, his own body trembling as he got hard right away. The fat and muscle beneath him quivered with a mixture of desire and anxiety, which made Yoshizumi’s cock also rocket right to full erection. Eventually he moaned around Bart’s dick and seemed to forget that he had been unwilling to keep going.
Soon they were both rock-hard and leaking precum, while Yoshizumi loudly suckled, sputtering and letting occasional aggressive gag. Bart’s balls slammed against Yoshizumi’s face.
When he felt his orgasm approach, Bart knew he needed to stop. He didn’t want this to be over so soon, and it was obvious that Yoshizumi did not wish to swallow his cum. Bart desperately wanted to do so, but he had a better idea. He thought he could get Yoshizumi to take this even farther.
Then Bart stood, pulling his dick out of Yoshizumi’s cock. His orgasm receded just in time, and pained frustration flowed up Bart’s body. He forced himself to be still, and he smiled at Yoshizumi, who winced and nodded his agreement — he knew what was coming next.
Bart’s long dick pulsated as he got excited thinking about how this was going to feel; it was exactly a fantasy he had had since he was a little boy watching sumo matches on TV. Yoshizumi was even more handsome than any of the sumo wrestlers he had seen back then, or maybe Yoshizumi wasn’t more handsome, he just seemed more real because he was right in front of Bart’s face.
Yoshizumi’s ass was twice as wide as Bart’s body, so Bart felt like even more of a slim young twink than ever. He had to stand on his toes to get into Yoshizumi’s ass from the right angle. It took both hands to separate his asscheeks, baring his tight hole.
When he did succeed, however, he moaned exquisitely. Pleasure flowed up his body with just the first inch of his dick in that tight ass — beneath the thick layer of pudge, Yoshizumi’s ass was strong and hard. Bart struggled to separate those mountainous asscheeks far enough, and his fingers clutched the man’s hairy crack-flesh. It was almost enough to send him over the edge, especially when Yoshizumi’s cheeks involuntarily flexed. He was so powerful beneath the flab that it was like his ass had gripped Bart’s manhood and fingers.
“You have to loosen up, Yoshizumi. Just relax. I will not hurt you, and you are so much bigger than me it will not hurt much. You can tell me to stop if it is too much,” Bart said.
Yoshizumi nodded his understanding but didn’t say anything. He gritted his teeth and averted his eyes from Bart’s gaze. H was on his belly now, so he just looked down to the floor of the locker room he had just cleaned and buried his face in his forearm.
He grunted as he accepted Bart’s dick. He bit his lip, trying to avoid showing his pain, and then a flush of red hit his face. That suggested to Bart that he felt a surge of pleasure as well, but was probably too insecure right now to admit it. Bart could feel the man’s spongy prostate tingling as he stimulated it, and he could practically see the pleasure through the rippling of Yoshizumi’s flesh.
While Bart began fucking harder and harder, he reached around Yoshizumi’s body the best he could. He wasn’t surprised to find that he couldn’t give a reacharound as he intended. His arms weren’t even remotely close to long enough. Yoshizumi’s powerful belly was in the way. Bart enjoyed trying though, straining to reach all the way around that massive frame of quivering muscular flesh.
“If you lay on your back, I’ll jack you off,” Bart said. “I can’t reach from here.”
He shook his head. “I do not deserve to feel pleasure.”
“Nonsense, of course you do. You made a little mistake, Yoshizumi, relax. Besides, you said you would do what you needed to, in order to please me, right? Well I wanna jack you off while I stick it in you. That’s what’ll please me.”
Yoshizumi nodded then. Bart pulled out as Yoshizumi’s giant body flipped over. He lifted his legs up. Ordinarily, Bart would hold a man’s legs up while fucking him in this position, but each of Yoshizumi’s legs probably weighed more than Bart. He was obviously not going to be able to hold them in place.
But luckily since Yoshizumi was such an athlete, he had plenty of muscle. He could keep his legs elevated for a very long time, his outrageous thigh muscles thick like corded rope beneath his layer of fat. He winced again as Bart re-penetrated him but his moan turned from pain to pleasure when Bart grabbed his dick.
He was already hard, and he resumed leaking precum the moment Bart began to stroke him. With every thrust of Bart’s dick, Yoshizumi’s flab trembled, his giant muscles flexed, his ass clenched and his dick spasmed beneath Bart’s fingers.
“Oh god yes, thank you, I feel better already,” Yoshizumi said, his voice still tight and pinched. It was clear that he was in pain, but from his tone and the way his cock pulsated in Bart’s fingers, it was clear he felt a deep, abiding pleasure as well.
Mister Gogatsu?! boomed a deep voice from the other end of the locker room. It was a man, who sounded stern, authoritarian, and a bit uneasy.
“Yes!” Yoshizumi said, calling out as loud as he could muster while he was in pain. Bart froze mid-penetration, his blood running cold as he wondered if Yoshizumi would get kicked out of the league if they were caught.
Are you done? You are requested again in the executive suite.
“No, I’m doing it now. I promise. Come see and you will know-“
No. I do not wish to see. I will report to the bosses that you will be upstairs shortly. Do not disappoint.
“Yes, Gakimosimi-san,” Yoshizumi said. He frowned until the locker room door slammed shut. Then he breathed a sigh of relief. “That was an enforcer for Clan Rairaku. They… own my contract,” he said.
Vicarious fear ran through Bart’s spine. If he had been thinking clearly, he would have realized that that man was yakuza, come to check that Yoshizumi was satisfying his debt of shame. The yakuza were terrifying, and Bart was glad he hadn’t known that’s what was going on at the time or he would have fled.
But now they were alone again, and Bart began plowing harder and harder at Yoshizumi’s powerful behind. Since Yoshizumi’s ass was so big, Bart had no problem slamming his rod in all the way in and out. It didn’t cause Yoshizumi too much pain, and though he was tight, he was too big for his tightness to be a problem.
Intense pleasure rocketed through Bart’s body. His back arched as he plunged his dick in and out. There was so much to Yoshizumi’s body that Bart felt like he was ensconced in the man’s rolling drapes of flesh. He even had a perfect amount of chest hair, a lot for a Japanese man..
Fat rolls rippled above Yoshizumi’s muscular frame, and the big man moaned with pleasure. He began feeling up his own nipples with one hand. Bart used both of his hands on Yoshizumi’s thick dick, which was veiny and bulgy, cum coursing through it as they both writhed together.
“I’m going to cum! Oh god!”
They both shot their loads at the same time, Bart just a minute or two before Yoshizumi. Intense, indescribable pleasure wafted through his body as he sprayed his load within Yoshizumi’s plump ass. Yoshizumi moaned, a cringing sound that suggested both agony and bliss.
Then cum sprayed over Bart’s hand and Yoshizumi’s jiggling belly. It coated Bart’s fingers as Yoshizumi’s entire body shook and vibrated. He gasped, cursing in surprise at how powerful his orgasm was. Wave after wave of pleasure rampaged through his body, as Yoshizumi experienced a potent climax.
Few women had ever brought him to such pleasure, making Yoshizumi’s whole body jiggle and shake. Yoshizumi gasped. He tried to remain staid and nonplussed, but Yoshizumi couldn’t handle the intense feelings rollicking him. No woman could make him feel like that, he thought with a chest-rattling sigh.
His cumwad was thick and creamy, and it seemed to go on forever.
Bart smiled as he pulled out and licked all the cum off his fingers. It tasted clean and vibrant, like a mossy forest, and he moaned with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Yoshizumi’s massive body loomed before him like a colossus, and Bart let his tongue wrap around Yoshizumi’s folds. He sucked on his big meaty nipples.
“I thank you, Bart,” Yoshizumi said. His face was red, a smile creeping over his face as he grasped Bart on the shoulder. The sensations roiling through his body were too potent to ignore, so his voice rattled and broke. “You have allowed me to regain my honor.”
“Anytime,” Bart said. “I love sumo.” He smiled and pulled away. He sighed before putting his clothes on. He was suddenly glad he had come to Japan and especially glad he had fixed that webstream.
This was a wonderful country.