This is a sample chapter from Spiritstrong Dojo Downlow, the new story by Rick Mann!
Ray did not like the Spiritstrong Dojo’s pre-match tradition. He could have said no, like some did, but he wanted to fit in. He knew he’d be perceived as eccentric and unsociable if he refused. Maybe they were even right that it helped promote teamwork and brotherhood, though he doubted it. He didn’t even especially want to feel a sense of brotherhood — this wasn’t medieval Japan, he didn’t need to be blood brothers with the men he trained with. He planned on moving out of Baltimore in a year or two anyway. But still, he didn’t want to make waves, so he agreed to participate in the traditional pre-match circlejerk.
Before his match, he showed up early. The other older, experienced warriors were already there in the training room, stretching and doing some light warmup exercises. He quickly jumped in right alongside them, wanting to be perceived as their equal, so he worked out with them without a moment’s hesitation.
“You ready to warm up?” asked Dim-Lao, a handsome Chinese man whom Ray had always hated. He had a cocky grin and broad shoulders, with the toned torso of a private school lacrosse player, which was exactly what he had been. Dim-Lao was the one who insisted most strongly on the Spiritstrong pre-match tradition; he had seen its effects firsthand back in China, where he said he and his dojo-brothers had fought against the Communists before fleeing to America. Ray didn’t know if that was just bluster or not, but he had a feeling there was an inkling of truth to it. In any case, Dim-Lao definitely saw brotherhood as an integral goal of the Spiritstrong Dojo’s training program.
Ray sighed. “Yeah, fine. I really don’t see this helping though, Dim-Lao. It doesn’t sound like a real tradition either. It just sounds gay.”
“It’s not gay, shut up,” Dim-Lao said. “It promotes brotherhood and teamwork.”
“Does telling me to shut up promote teamwork too?”
“Obedience is an important part as well.,” Dim-Lao said as he walked into the locker room and Ray followed. “You should do as your elders and betters tell you, for we are… elder and better. You are young and foolish.”
There were twelve guys in the locker room, arranged in a circle. Dim-Lao and Ray joined the others, and Ray’s heart started pounding. He didn’t even think this was normal — he looked it up online and found no references to circlejerking in China — none! Not in any context — so why didn’t he refuse? At least part of the reason was that Ray had a big dick he liked to show off, and he knew if he refused, he’d be laughed at forever. They’d accuse him of refusing because his dick didn’t work. Dim-Lao wouldn’t, of course, but it would be obvious he was thinking it; the others, the Americans like Todd and Jim, would surely never let him live it down.
Ray was glad to be standing next to Dim-Lao, meaning that someone he knew well would be touching his cock. He opened up his robes and dropped his boxers just as everyone else did. They all nervously laughed at the sight of fourteen limp cocks. For two of them, this was possibly brand new; they were new to the Spiritstrong Dojo, and Ray assumed, circlejerks in general. But both of the new guys, Paul and Tom, seemed to be eager to join in.
The man to Ray’s right was Tim, a tall and muscle-bound Chinese immigrant (whose real name, Ray recalled, was Ming, but went by Tim in America). Everyone else had already started stroking, and Ray realized he was looking conspicuous for not having begun yet. He nervously wrapped his hand around Tim’s thick shaft.
Tim’s cock was fleshy and clammy, and it jerked to half-hard attention the moment Ray moved his hand up and down. He had been in a few circlejerks before — ever since he began coming to the Spiritstrong Dojo regularly — but it never got less uncomfortable or disgusting for him, no matter how often he did it.
This wasn’t sexy, and Ray really wished he could just jack himself off. But as he wondered why they were doing this while looking over the uncomfortable, awkward faces of his fellow martial artists, he realized that he did feel closer to them; they were all going through something difficult together, and even if he didn’t know all of their names, he felt like he knew each one intimately.
Ray was hard in Dim-Lao’s hand, and once he got in the swing of stroking, Ray began leaking precum. He was surprised that Dim-Lao didn’t seem to notice, and continued to expertly jack Ray’s rod. The room soon quieted down and filled with the scent of semen.
The first man finished, a young Taiwanese-American who nervously blushed at how quickly he came. He murmured something about how he hadn’t nutted in awhile just before shooting a thick load in the center of the room. That acrid cotton smell grew even stronger in Ray’s nostrils. The Taiwanese guy was followed by another, then another.
As always, Ray prayed that he wouldn’t be last. He didn’t want to look like a pussy. Dim-Lao came, stopping his stroking for a few seconds while he shot a wad of creamy load onto the floor in the center of the locker room. He closed his eyes and flexed his tight muscles as he ejaculated, and he looked so proud and noble there that Ray almost felt an urge to kiss him.
Before he knew it, they were down to just Ray and Tim, standing next to each other and jacking each other off. Ray felt his own orgasm coming soon, and he was glad that meant he wasn’t going to be last.
But then Tim shot a load without warning. He moaned out a few incomprehensible Chinese syllables, then spewed wad after wad of semen over Ray’s fingers. Sticky cum spread over his hand, and his dick went limp in disgust.
Tim’s ropy muscles heaved as he recovered from his orgasm. Since the circle now consisted of only one person, Ray, there was no one else to take Tim’s place, and he had to continue jacking Ray off. Again, Ray wished he could just jack himself off, but it was too late for that.
Everyone watched him intently. Ray thought for sure it wouldn’t happen, but somehow Tim’s hand managed to get him hard again. Despite his anxiety, he managed to grow to full erection soon enough.
Thinking of women in his mind, Ray felt an orgasm imminently. He bucked his hips, and heard snorting laughter from the other guys watching him. Relief flooded over him as did bliss, and he shuddered at the potency of his orgasm.
His cum landed on the soggy towel someone had placed in the center of the room, where it sat in a cummy puddle. For a moment, Ray thought they were going to make him lick the towel, as that seemed like something they might do if they thought of it, but luckily the most respected fighters in the circle had already walked away,
Everyone who remained applauded sarcastically as he finished his orgasm, and Ray blushed. He felt awkward, but he had to admit, he also felt a lot closer to the other guys.