BMOC: Black Mage on Campus, Chapter 7: A Season in HELL—Part 1

Author's Note- This story is the next Part of the BMOC series, dealing with the fate of Leo, and the world of Doctor Heart, the previous chapters can be found on this site:

A special thank you with deepest gratitude and absolute respect to *TEXZILLA*, My favorite Author, for helping me publish this as quick as possible by editing for me.

A note on content, this story is of a darker theme, and contains graphic non-consensual sex, rape and elements of torture.


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The Box was a prison. It was made of dark hallways and tight corners. It seemed to be built underground. I never saw a window and the lighting for the most part was long florescent bands. Heavy industrial pipes stretched through the labyrinth of corridors and dirt- floor cells.

My name is Leo Rhodes and I am a prisoner here. It seems like another lifetime ago but I was the BMOC at Remington College. “Big Man on Campus”. I had my entire future ahead of me, man. I was a fucking MVP. At 6’2”, 220, I was the quarterback. I was the Fraternity Pledge master. My parents’ influence made my grades for me. My Frat Brothers worshipped me. Every pussy in school leaked for my attention and I was a college king. The College bars, the Frat House and the field were my kingdom.

Now… now I’m Naked, Bruised and Forgotten. I made a deal with a dark haired guy, who I thought was a Professional Sports agent… but I guess he wasn’t. In this hell, that I’m in, I’ve started to think he may have been the Devil. The agent sold me to some doctor on the promise that he would “train me” to make a million dollars a year. The money sounded good… I thought it was a sports contract… Only it wasn’t. I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into… but the days and nights flow together. No sun and no clocks in the box. I don’t know how long I’ve been here. I cling to the memories of sitting in hot tubs pounding Heinekens with my buddies. Laughing and slapping each other on the back after practice. Kicking back and napping after a hard workout at the Gym. Walking through the Quad, collar popped, polo stretching cross my pecs, dirty blonde hair, a shaggy Viking mess and every eye on me….

Those memories are the only thing that keep me from losing my fucking mind, while I sit isolated… alone… trapped… on the dirt floor of my cell. Since the moment I wake up it’s been the same routine. Wait… then eat some weird high protein gruel the guards slide through a slot in my door… wait… get hauled kicking and screaming to a no frills… “Yard” ( a windowless cement floor vault, filled with rusting free weights and gym equipment from the 70s) At first the guards would beat me and threaten me with their handguns to make me work out… I tried to attack the silent goons with some free weights. That just made the bastards toss me around and choke me out until I grudgingly went through the motions of some ridiculous attempt to work out….

Now, I fucking Love the Yard. It’s the only time I’m unrestrained…and now I understand… it’s motherfucking important to be in top shape in this hell… or else you get nailed in The Arena… literally… The Arena…

My first experience with the Arena showed me just how far into hell I’d been sent. The guards grabbed me from my cell, kicking and screaming, my feet dragging on the dirt floor. They took me to a small… dugout? They chained me up next to another man in front of a huge dirt floor… I was struggling against the heavy iron shackles… veins bulging from my forearms and howling like an animal…

The guy next to me said, “Don’t struggle. It just draws attention to you. Often times, if you stay low they won’t make you get into the ring.” The guy was huge. He was maybe six feet tall, of some kind of Latin heritage. His hair was shaved down to dark fuzz on his skull. He had a sullen look on his face.

Beyond that... all I could notice was the dude’s MASS. We had some big fucking lineman on my Defense at Uni and this guy would have fit right in. His Nude Body was just MASSIVE. He had to be like 310. No definition, just huge. Like a Wall. He slumped forward, and his bulk made him clearly uncomfortable. I guess you could call him muscular but it was hard to tell between the layers of fat on his bloated shoulders, chest and thighs. He was Pro-Lineman big… lots of mass and no dexterity. It was also obvious that he was unused to his size as he fidgeted and re-situated his girth. He extended one tree sized arm at me, chains clinking, “I’m Abe,” He offered. His dark features twisted in a shy, offer of friendship.

“Leo,” I croaked, my throat dry and cracked from disuse.

“If you endeavor to lay low and be inconspicuous, it will benefit you greatly.” He advised quietly. His crisp academic speech and slightly effeminate inflection was at odds with the giant stature and elephantine frame.

“What the fuck is going on here?” I whispered hoarsely, settling nervously onto the hard bench. The empty arena before me was making me very nervous.

He sighed. His gloomy face contorted, “This is the Arena. The prisoners here are forced, through negative reinforcement, to attack each other in a cage-match style… not unlike Roman-Greco wrestling.”

My heart sank and the sweat on my brow turned cold, “We’re going to fight to the death?”

Abraham’s big body convulsed with laughter, “No, my new found compatriot, if only it were that simple.” His chubby face and thick neck leaned towards me, “The Winner rapes the Loser.”

“W-H-A-T The fuck!?”

“Quite uncivil, I know.” He chuckled mirthlessly, “The only parameters of this contest are win--rape. Lose--get raped. It’s rudimentary and barbaric… but so is everything else in this ungodly purgatory.”

My heart was beating faster. I could taste vomit in my throat. My whole body was on fire with rage! “NOBODY”S FUCKING ME!!!” I roared.

Abraham winced and cowered in fright, a timid rhinoceros. “Quiet… Quiet… Discretion my friend… discretion…”

“I ain’t shoving my dick in no dude’s shit-hole.” I spat in disgust.

He shook his head, “A lot of the other prisoners I’ve met felt the same way…” He agreed sadly. His big, brown, intelligent eyes held my gaze. ”You say that now, but… I have concluded that they are giving us heavy doses of testosterone and sexual enhancement drugs. These chemicals reinforce certain natural reactions with-in the body which will induce erection and heightened aggression.”

“They are feeding us steroids and Viagra?”

His wide face considered that, “Probably Cialis… the erections and sexual frustration appear to be habitual.”

“How do you know that?” I asked skeptical.

“When I came here I was 220 lbs.” He said flatly.

“Jesus! How long have you been down here?”

His big dour face looked close to tears, “I don’t know, months? You are the 7th prisoner to come since I got here. The other men disappear but I stay… just getting bigger and bigger and raped over and over… just meal after meal and the guards loading weight on those obsolete squat racks and benches…“ He was crying now.

Wow… for such a huge guy he did act like a big girl. I wasn’t in any mood to listen to some fucking 300lb crybaby. “You’ve been here that long and haven’t fucking escaped?”

“There’s no way out.” He sniffled. “You just eat, lift and fight… until they take you away… “Captivity is the greatest of all evils that can befall a man”: Miguel de Cervantes.” He quoted.

Fuck that. “I’ll figure a way out of this.”

The sniveling stopped and Abe gave me a look of arrogant contempt. “I have a doctorate in engineering and work for FEMA’s independent research department.” He spat. “I doubt some college jock is going to do better.”

“If you’re so smart… why are you still here? Me and you we can take the guards when one of us gets unshackled… then we can…”

“Seen it.” Abe replied petulantly, his huge bulk folding in on himself in self-pity. “They’ll taser you in a heartbeat. There’s no way out…until they take you away… they take everyone away…except me… just keep feeding me and raping me…”


This guy was either a total pussy or just a fucking fag.

“How did you get here?” I asked, trying to distract him, while I quietly attempted to wriggle my wrists out of the chains.

“I remember signing up for a training camp…” Abraham mewed listlessly. “… my boyfriend and I play rugby on the weekends… and we were looking for some extra-training…” for the first time the big queer showed an outburst of aggression that matched his size. “THEN I WOKE UP HERE!!! I FUCKING HATE IT HERE!!!”

He raged and swore. He thrashed violently at his bonds.

“You’re a queer?”

His big body hyperventilated, “You will be too, straight boy. No matter what your tiny little Neanderthal brain thinks now… Gay or straight… doesn’t matter in the BOX… just rapist or rape victim.”

“No matter what these crazy faggots do, I will not be sticking my dick in some dude’s shit-hole or bending over to take one.” I told him flatly.

“I assess the power of a will by how much resistance, pain, and torture it endures and knows how to turn to its advantage: Friedrich Nietzsche”… The huge guy quoted again, “All the men I’ve met so far… they said the same thing… they all end up playing along in the end… These people have ways of making you behave.”

I was about to argue with the giant know-it-all sissy… but his temper tantrum must have alerted the guards… they came into our little holding cell and had side arms trained on the big brute. He resolutely let them lead him off… naked Hispanic body waddling and swaying hesitantly.

A few minutes later he was on the dirt floor of the ring. Bright Lights shone down on his big form. A second prisoner sauntered into the ring. He was heavily muscled, lean, covered in tattoos and sporting the wickedest grin I’d ever seen.

The new prisoner was obviously a trained fighter. He danced and taunted Abe’s hulking form like he was batting at a practice dummy. He had a fiery red crew cut and his big dick jutted out of a red flaming crotch. It bounced against his 8-pack abdomen. His face was hard and colored with bruises and half-healed scrapes. “You gonna put up a fight today, hippo? Or you just gonna lay down and spread like a good girl?”

“Fuck you,” the immensely heavier man fumed, and then charged his opponent.

The Redhead roundhouse-kicked him and sent him hurtling backward. His heavy body reverberated on the floor. Abraham struggled to get back on his feet,... his nose was bleeding and his big neck wobbled. The Redhead was on him in a heartbeat, pulling the swollen neck back into a tight choke hold. Spit was dripping from the berserker’s mouth. His pale complexion flushed with blood.

“C’mon bitch. You ain’t got shit.” His hold tightened and Abraham squealed in pain. “Now spread those big cheeks and let’s get it over with… this is fucking boring.” He snarled.

Abraham put his head down on the mat and spread his massive legs in surrender.

“That’s a good girl.” The Redhead taunted and then spat on Abraham’s defeated head. He shoved his tool into the elephant’s big ass, making a few perfunctory pumps before pulling out and nutting all over the other man’s head.

He threw his hands up, and roared, “Who’s next!?”

I heard the guards outside the door… and knew with a sinking feeling it was going to be me… I resisted as best I could, but it ended with a pistol whipping that left me dazed. They picked me up and hefted me into the ring. My head was bleeding and I couldn’t get up. The bright lights blinded me and I could taste the dirt of the ring in my mouth.

“Aww shit! Another fucking belly-flopper!!!” An angry voice growled above me,“ I struggled to stand, but the brutal beating the guards just gave me left me spent.

The voice laughed, “Oh, just stay down buddy.” I felt the pressure of a huge body on my back. Sweat and grime grated cruelly along my body. “My name’s Lucky, big guy… and I’m your new worst nightmare…”

The voice laughed. Then he spread my ass cheeks, spit on my hole… and raped my ass like a prison inmate… I had never had anything in my ass before… I almost hit a girlfriend who tried to slip her finger in when she was blowing me.

She told me it would be hot.

It wasn’t hot. It hurt like fiery hell. I could feel my ass muscles buckling under the assault, and it felt like there was a fire poker jutting in and out of my ass.

… The only small piece of pride I maintained was that I didn’t begin weeping until I was alone in my cell again.

Abe was right.

I didn’t want to get pistol whipped or beaten. I fell in line and played along. When I took my turn in the ring I made sure I wasn’t the loser… except when I faced off against Lucky. Abe explained that the dude was a ringer, a former UFC fighter who never lost.

I was benching in the weight room. Three guards were monitoring me with their pistols trained on my temples. I was suddenly yanked from the bench and tossed into the arena’s dugout. Abe’s heavy form sat on the bench pathetically sulking …but so did a new prisoner.

I was chained and we all began watching the carnage that was unfolding in the ring. The huge mass of Abe sat beside me. His heavy frame heaved from the strain of a recent match. The big guy had finally won, taking his smaller opponent by force and using his ever increasing size to pin the poor bastard to the dirt floor. He pumped him for a few anguished rounds before collapsing from the exhaustion of managing his weight. The poor guy looked like he was either going to pass out or throw-up.

I gave him a nod of approval. Not losing in the ring was our only source of pride, now. Sure, we had to fucking rape another dude’s fucking sweaty hole, but at least you weren’t GETTING raped. I have to admit, no matter how much the thought of what we were being forced to do disgusted me… when I was in the moment fighting some stranger … I didn’t care… I just wanted to win.

If sticking my violence-hardened dick in some other guy’s butt was the only way to do it, who fucking cared? This whole place was so far from normal. How was I supposed to care about gay, or straight? We were men. We were being treated like animals. I just let the animal take over. That’s how you survive.

The new guy was around my age… shorter, maybe 5’9” and he was built like a tank. He had the tight muscles of a Marine but also the big overdeveloped muscle bellys of an amateur bodybuilder. His short brown hair was shaved to a fuzz and he had big brown eyes that looked furious.

I sat down heavily next to him. “I’m Leo.”

The muscle kid gave me an apprehensive look and then answered with an outstretched hand, “Buck. My name is Buck.” His voice was really deep and slow. Buck watched in horror as several inmates began to attack and fuck each other in front of us. It only took a few seconds before the kid had told me his whole life story. He started out, trying to be all tough and silent. He broke like a waterfall eventually. His name was Buck and he was a landscaper from upstate. He had done two years in the Marines and now spent most of his time mowing lawns, hanging- out at the gym, and fucking all the local girls. He kept asking me, what was going to happen next. Like, I was the goddamned tour guide or something.

“I don’t fucking know, kid.” I spat. The longer I was in this prison the shorter my patience got.

He rung his hands anxiously and gave me a hard look from his big brown eyes, “I’m not a Fucking Kid! I’m a 22 year old grown man with 2 kids of my own.” His heavy voice rumbled.

Wow, he was my age.

I suppose I thought he was younger from the way he spoke and how he seemed so clueless. Nah, he wasn’t a kid. Just some townie white trash that couldn’t understand how fucked we all were.

“No worries.” I muttered. “None of that matters here.”

Buck gave me an angry look. He found out soon enough.

He ended up with Abe as his first opponent. Abe put up his half-assed fight and of course Buck had the big lummox on the ground in 15 minutes.

When it came time to seal the deal, Buck refused… and learned. like I did, what happened when you didn’t play along. He was quickly tasered, hog-tied and brutally raped and beaten by the entire brute squad of guards. We all watched. To be honest, I was relieved that the dumb kid did it. It meant none of us ended up in the ring.

After that, he played along. Just like the rest of us.

Abe the giant genius was wrong about one thing, too. They did take him away.

One day he was sitting next to me whining and quoting dead poets… and the next… it was just me and Buck. I wondered idly what happened to Professor Downer, but with all the testosterone and rage bubbling in my brain, it didn’t last long.

The kid, Buck, was a nice change of pace. He would sit chained and naked, talking shit and swearing up and down that nobody was going to take him down. It was good to be next to a real contender. The way we pumped each other up was like when I used to play football. With Buck in my corner instead Abe we both managed to retain some dignity. We’d knock ‘em down, rub it off and get out with our self-respect… Except, when we had to face off against FUCKING Lucky.

Lucky had both me AND Buck screaming in pain beneath his brutal fucking. No matter how pumped I was, no matter how far I had my head in the game, that fucking barbarian took me out every time.

I had nightmares about it. …His heavy body pinning me down on the ground. …The coarse hair of his pubes grinding into the small of my back. His big loud Irish laughter in my ear. …The sweat. …The blood …and my own embarrassingly hard dick grinding into the dirt. I had just gotten Buck accustomed to the brutal routine of the Box when a again a new captive was added to our Dugout.

The new prisoner was named Wesley. He was chained next to me, his tall slightly chubby body sweating and shaking in stark-raving terror. He introduced himself as Assistant District Attorney Wesley Simon. Like his title fucking mattered with his balls hanging loose in his lap and his limbs chained like a slave’s. I recognized him vaguely as some hotshot minor lawyer from the city, who had made the newspapers on campus a couple times. He had some fancy reputation of “Cleaning up the streets”. He was big on drug busts and convictions for the fucking gang bangers in the ghettos. He was usually on the News once a month saying things like: “We have to think about the children.” Or “Who do you trust to protect YOUR kids?” He was a real political wannabe.

I hadn’t been thrown into the ring yet, so even though I tried to calm him down… I was also sizing him up as a potential opponent. God I hope he was going to be. The guy would be a fucking cakewalk for my college trained athletic prowess and jacked up testosterone levels.

He was probably thirty-ish… He had a very crisp styled, side-part that was deep chestnut with a fleck here and there of respectable grey. Wesley had a face that was probably “boyishly charming” when he was younger. Now, time and experience had given him the look of an affable “soccer–dad”. He was maybe, 6’1” – 6’2” with a broad chest and shoulders. The guy was probably a former athlete who got too comfortable in his desk chair. His body was definitely out of shape, a little too soft, a little too pampered… and very untrained. I’m sure secretaries would fall over themselves to spread for him, but I wasn’t exactly looking forward to slipping my dick in his stuck-up ass.

As soon as the guards shut the door, he began immediately babbling the same speech we all give our first time ringside.

“I don’t know what the hell is going on but don’t worry,” he told me.

Yeah, thanks for the tip. I feel all better now that you’re here.

“I was warned about this kind of retaliation. The police, the FBI, they’ll all be looking for me. This place is going to explode like a damn warzone any minute.” His voice was confident and convincing even though he trembled. He was pretty confident. Boy, was this guy in for a surprise.

He surveyed the two men that were fiercely attempting to beat each other to death in the ring. I watched as his shrewd, intelligent green eyes tried to calculate his fate. I was pretty impressed that he managed not to vomit, cry or feint. “I’ve seen raids on hell-holes worse then this, we’re going to be just fine.”

I’m not a jury bro, convincing me isn’t going to make it true. Be as clever and convincing as you want, it ain’t gonna help you for shit.

“That’s good to hear,” I answered.

Why tip my hat? If the coddled-suit was looking for SWAT teams to swoop in and save him… he’ll probably be a lot easier to knockout.

He pretty much was.

I was his first opponent. He put up his “dukes” like a kid on a playground. I told him I was sorry, and that I would make it quick. I beat the shit out of him. I gave him a few quick jogs to his temple, then kicked his legs out from under him. I pinned him to the dirt and kneed his thighs open. He mewed beneath me trying not to squeal. It was actually hard to stay hard. I waited for the guards to escort me out… but they just drug Wesley away and left me in the ring. They had never done that. The only fighter who ever stayed more than one round was Lucky.

Buck was tossed in, and the look on his studly little face was pure terror. My breath was still raged from the first fight, and I was juiced with adrenaline. The kid didn’t have a prayer. It was two quick sucker-punches to his kidneys and he was down. He begged me to stop pummeling his torn hole but I just kept right on ramming him with all the fury of my captivity. When I was done… I stood up and roared in triumph. I was king of the ring.

… After that I really was the king of the Ring.

We never saw Lucky again.

He disappeared just like Abe had.

It’s funny how life works.

With Lucky gone I was the unbeatable opponent. It went on like that for an eternity, days and nights had no meaning. It was just hardcore lifting, protein gruel, hormones, blood, sweat and the arena… but I started to thrive… Hours…days… nights… it all blurred into sweat and blood… but there was one thing that kept my spirit in tact…

I was Big Man On Campus again…

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