Engine 69

By Willie Cici
published July 28, 2019

Jay gets transferred to another station house …

“Captain, do you have a minute?”

The burly bearded man, seated at his metal desk, chewed on his cigar. He stared at the young man standing in his doorway. “Anderson, if you’re here to talk about the transfer, it’s a done deal.”

Jay Anderson, five-year veteran of the fire department, walked into the Captain’s office, closed the door and stood in front of the captain’s desk. “With all due respect, Captain, you’re transferring me to an hour-plus subway ride assignment. What the fuck?”

The burly bearded man smiled. “Well, Anderson, maybe this assignment will teach you about team work. Instead of personal career advancement.”

Anderson stood in front of his captain. He smirked and nodded ‘yes’. “My dad told me you were a jerk-off. He was wrong. You’re a fucking jerk-off.”

The burly bearded man rose to his feet and shouted, “Get out of here before I send you to the Bronx, snot-ass little punk.”

Jay walked out of his captain’s office, slammed the office door and headed to his locker. He opened his locker, packed away his knapsack, and slammed the metal door.

“Why are you upset?”, a voice called out. Before Jay could answer, TJ, Jay’s coworker, said, “Jay, Brooklyn Engine 12. It’s a shit hole. They’re sending you to Manhattan 69. East Side. Primetime.”, TJ teased. “Shiiiit! I’d go in a minute.”

Jay nodded ‘yes’. “Yeah, you would. You’d show up naked ready for a photoshoot.”

“Yeah. And I’d look good.”, TJ said. Suddenly, TJ had an epiphany. “Jay, you worried … ‘cause they sending you to ‘Beefcake Central’?”

Jay starred at his good friend. “TJ, look at me. I’m out of shape. I’ll never be able to … fit in. It’s like … they’re ‘Stepford Firemen’.”

TJ laughed. “You’re not that out of shape. I’ve begged you for a year to join me at the gym, but you keep blowing me off. Even Nina wants you to join me at the gym.”

Jay shook his head. “Nina is gonna have a fit. Four days on, four days off. Great schedule when it’s Monday through Thursday. When it’s Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday.” Jay nodded his head ‘no’. “Nina ain’t going along with this.” The two friends walked out of the locker room. “And, because of community outreach, they expect you to stay round-the-clock at the firehouse. Three nights away from Nina. She really ain’t going along with that.”

“She could visit you.”, TJ teased.

“Oh yeah, that would work. And then she could pick up spare change by blowing the other guys.”, Jay answered, disgust oozing from his tone. The two friends headed to their firetruck and started their day’s assignment, performing maintenance upon their equipment and gear.

Two weeks later, Monday morning –

Jay climbed the cast-iron staircase of the 96th Street Station. He headed east and walked three blocks to his new assignment, Manhattan 69. The ‘Number 4’ connects Brooklyn and Manhattan. Luckily, the Bergen Street Station is about seven blocks from his brownstone apartment off of Saint Marks Avenue in Prospect Heights. He had misjudged the time he would need to walk, ride the train and reach the firehouse. As he neared the firehouse, Jay looked at his watch: 9:14am. He was late. “Not a good way to start on your first day.”

When Jay reached the firehouse, he opened the door and walked along a narrow hallway. He found, in a small office, two men seated, one behind the desk, the other in front of the desk, his back to the doorway. “Captain Marvillo?”, Jay asked.

“Well, I’m impressed right off the bat. You said it correctly.”, the captain replied. He rose from his desk to shake hands and said, “Welcome aboard, Jay. Have a seat. This is Lieutenant Harry Jenkins, my executive officer.” Jenkins shook Jay’s hand and bid him to take his seat. The captain took his seat and said, “Jenkins, close the door.” Jenkins closed the door of the Captain’s office and leaned against the office door. “I got a call from Ron Pressley. He gave me an earful.” He paused for a moment. “Don’t worry. I ignored all of it. Ron’s an asshole. Been an asshole for 20 years. Son, he did you a favor.”

“Captain Marvel has spoken.”, Jenkins teased. “That’s his name behind his back.”

“Damn calendar!”, Captain Marvillo said. “There is one thing, though, that … I don’t know how to say this but … you gonna have drop some weight.”

“Excuse me?”, Jay said.

“You’ll see. Let’s get you to the lockers so you can change.”, Captain Marvillo said. “By the way, you can call me ‘Cap’ or you can me ‘Juan’.”, the captain said. Jay followed Jenkins and Marvillo into the locker room. The locker room was lined with the advertisement posters for the Firemen’s Calendar that had propelled the firefighters of Manhattan 69 into media notoriety. “That’s Phil Watkins. Sammy Malloy. And Johnny Blum.”, Jenkins said as he pointed to the posters from last year’s calendar. Jay could not believe his eyes. It was true. The Boys of ‘Beefcake Central’. (To see the posters, click here

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“And, of course, that’s Captain Marvillo. Looking studly as ever.”, Jenkins said, as he pointed to the Captain’s photograph. Jay studied the framed portrait. (To see Marvillo’s picture, click here).

Jay shook his head. “This is for real, isn’t it?”, he said. Marvillo and Jenkins nodded ‘yes’.

The men continued the tour of the stationhouse. As the men walked into the locker room, Jenkins said, “Come prepared to stay Tuesday and Wednesday overnight. Orientation and stuff.”

“Are the overnight’s a must? I … my girl.”, Jay whined.

“Jenkins, show him the lay of the land and introduce him to the boys.”, Marvillo said, ignoring Jay’s whine. As he returned to his office, Marvillo shouted. “And explain to him the pilot project and procedures.”

Jenkins explained the pilot project at Engine 69 and five other station houses in the city. Jay accepted his reality and nodded ‘yes’. The two then climbed the stairs to the second floor of the firehouse. The recently-renovated space smelled of fresh paint. A large flat-screen television rested on the wall, a large wrap-around couch positioned in front of the television. Seated in front of the television were several firemen watching TV. “Guys, this is Jay Anderson. He’s a transfer from Brooklyn.”, Jenkins said. The boys on the couch warmly greeted Jay.

Jay waved to the guys and politely smiled. “A half dozen beefcake models pretending to be firemen.”, he thought to himself. “Hey guys!”

Jenkins led Jay to the rear of the second floor to a fully-equipped gym. About a dozen firefighters were exercising, pumping iron to the beat of loud club music. “What the hell is this?”, Jay thought to himself.

Suddenly, he heard a voice. “Jay.” A man, wearing compression gear and a loose-fitting athletic shirt approached Jay and said, “I heard you were coming. Glad to have you.”

“Steve? Steve Marshall?” Jay hardly recognized his friend. They attended the Academy and graduated in the same class. They lost regular contact when they ended up in geographically-opposite assignments.

“I got transferred four months ago. Best thing that ever happened to me.”, Steve said. He lifted his shirt and said, “Tracy can’t keep her hands off me.” As he wiped his brow, he looked at Jay and said, “You can benefit from this assignment.” Steve poked a finger into Jay’s slightly flabby belly and said, “Can’t be soft at ‘Beefcake Central’.”

Jay did not take the insult lightly, but let it pass. “I’ll see you around, Steve.”

As Jenkins led Jay out of the gym, he said, “We take our physical fitness seriously. It … uh … pays the bills, so to speak.”

Jay questioned Jenkins. “What do you mean?”, he asked.

“Well, the boys selected for the calendar get a royalty. The entire engine house gets photographed for the covers. The monthly pin-ups get a separate royalty. The profits from the calendar sales go to the Deceased Firemen’s Trust. Then, there are personal appearances that our agents arrange. That’s all pocket change.”, Jenkins said. “Willis made over $30,000 last year. And he wasn’t a pin-up. Just for strutting around showing off his abs.”

Jay looked at Jenkins. “You’re kidding?” When Jenkins nodded ‘no’, Jay added, “So, I guess it’s sit-ups and crunches for lunch.”

When Jay left for work on Tuesday, he packed his gym bag, with workout apparel, his toiletries and afterhours change of clothes. He was staying overnight at the firehouse, as instructed. On Wednesday morning, at the stationhouse, when Jay awoke, he changed into his exercise gear. He would shower again after his workout, but he felt sweaty and grimy and wanted to shower. As he trekked into the gym, Jay met his lieutenant, Jenkins.

“How are things going?”, Jenkins asked.

“Great. It’s an adjustment, but I’m getting used to it.” Jay said. “Has anyone ever complained about static noise in the bedrooms?”, he asked.

“No. What kind of static noise?”, Jenkins replied.

“I can’t explain it. It’s like that white noise from the TVs but I could swear I heard voices.”, Jay explained.

“You need to lay off the weed.”, Jenkins said, with a laugh.

“Funny.”, Jay replied. Jay headed into the gym and exercised. He followed a routine that his friend, Steve Marshall, suggested. He had downloaded the pdf on his iPhone and followed the routine word for word. After ninety minutes, Jay found himself exhausted and drenched. He headed out of the gym.

Someone shouted, “Don’t forget the post-workout drink.”

Jay turned around and stared about the gym. “Who said that?”

“I did.”, the voice replied. Jay stared at the young man, sporting grey spandex shorts and a fluorescent lime green lycra tight shirt. His backwards cap covered his generous locks of hair. The serious stare on his face intensified as he said, “In the frig. Post-workout drink. It’s a must.” (To see the young man, click here).

Jay approached the young man and said, “We’ve never met. I’m Jay Anderson.”

“I’m Bret Devers, the gym trainer. I was waiting for you this morning.”, Bret said.

“For what?”, Jay replied.

“Morning training session.”, Bret answered.

“I didn’t know. And no one told me about the post-workout drinks.”, Jay said.

“Well, that means you didn’t know about the pre-workout shake, interim workout drink, and post-workout drink.”, Bret said. “And by the looks of you, you could use them all.”

Jay stared at Bret. “I’m not in that bad shape.”, he replied, a bit annoyed that everyone poked fun at him.

Bret poked his finger into Jay’s belly. “If I can poke more than half an inch, you are out of shape and nowhere near calendar specs. No calendar, no extras. No extras, no cash.” Bret walked over to the frig, grabbed a post-workout drink and said, “Drink it. You’ll feel better.”

Jay twisted the cap of the drink and gulped the purple carbonated beverage. “Damn! It’s awful.”

“That means it’s working.”, Bret said. He pulled out his cell phone and retrieved his appointment schedule. “Tomorrow morning, 7:30am. We do our initial training session.”, Bret ordered. “By the way, what did you do today?” Jay retrieved the pdf on his phone and showed Bret the routine Steve had provided him. “Okay. That’s good. Tomorrow, we’ll fine tune that.”

Jay headed out of the gym, tossed the empty post-workout drink bottle in the trash and headed to his overnight room. He stripped out of his perspiration-soaked gym clothes and wrapped a bath towel around his waist. Jay showered and returned to his room, changed into his uniform and began his shift, feeling tired, but refreshed.

That night, Jay went to sleep in the bedroom at the station house. Again, he heard the white noise static, those faint voices. Soon, however, his body and mind, tired from a day of physical and mental exertion, fell prey to tranquil sleep. He closed his eyes and wafted into dreamland, where the white noise and voices filled his mind with thoughts and commands, duties and orders.

Two months have passed –

“Do you understand that I did not request this transfer?”, Jay said to his annoying girlfriend. “I have to stay overnight at the firehouse. The job requires it.”

“I don’t believe you.”, Nina answered, her voice filled with disgust and attitude.

Jay stood in the middle of his bedroom, in his boxer briefs and stared at his girlfriend, wrapped cozily in his bed. “Did you say ‘I don’t believe you’?” Nina nodded ‘yes’. “What have I ever done to make you not believe me?” Silence filled the air. “Answer me.”, Jay demanded. When Nina failed to answer, Jay shouted, “Answer me.”

“Keep your voice down.”, Nina threatened.

“You’re right. There’s no reason to shout.”, Jay said, eerily and calmly. He walked over to the bed, leaned over and whispered to Nina, “Get the fuck out of my bed … and don’t ever come here again.”

Nina was shocked. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” Nina did not move. He unraveled the bedding, exposing his naked girlfriend. “Get the fuck out! Now!”, he shouted.

Fearful, Nina hopped out of the bed, scurried to find her undergarments and clothes. Jay tossed Nina’s clothes in her face. Impatiently, Jay watched his now ex-girlfriend get dressed. When she finished dressing, Jay said, “I’ll pack your shit and send it to your mother’s.” Nina tried to stall the inevitable, but Jay took Nina by the elbow and guided her to the door. “You know what ‘I don’t believe you’ means? It means that you don’t trust me. If you don’t trust me, then I don’t want to be with you.” Jay opened the door and said, “Just leave. Now.”

Nina stood at the threshold of the door. “You’re a son-of-a-bitch. And a bad lover.”

Jay smiled. “And you can’t suck cock to save your life, you miserable cunt!!” He punctuated his tirade with a slam of the door. “Fucking whore!”, he muttered underneath his breath. He looked at the clock and rushed to get dressed. He grabbed his gym bag and ran down the stairs of his apartment, rushing to get to the subway. He could not wait to the get to the firehouse and pump some irons. He could take his frustration out on the dumbbells and nautilus machines in the gym.

When Jay reached the firehouse, he rushed to the locker room and changed into his exercise gear. Before he headed for the gym, Jay opened the frig in the locker room and grabbed a pre-workout drink. He hated the taste, but, after two months, Jay could not deny the benefits of the firehouse regimen: pre-workout drink, 60 minutes, workout drink a midpoint, 60 minutes more, post-workout drink. Jay followed that regimen even on his days off, choosing to work-out at the firehouse. The other firemen did the same. It made sense. Why pay for a gym membership when you have the firehouse gym?

As he walked into the fitness center, Jay encountered two coworkers, Jack and Mike. Jay never asked, but he sensed that the boys were a couple. They seemed to dress alike, work out at the same time, and spend a lot of time together. Jay did not understand the gay mindset. “Hey, guys!” (To see Jack and Mike, click here).

“What’s wrong?”, Jack asked.

“Nothing’s wrong.”, Jay said. “I broke up with Nina.”

“Really?”, Mike asked. “What happened?” Jay narrated the entire story to his friends. “Are you really through with her?” Jay nodded ‘yes’. “Good. Then, there’s something I’ve been wanting to say since you got here: what a fucking bitch!”

“When she said she didn’t trust me, that was it.”, Jay said.

“Well, now, you have the best of both worlds. Single and …”, Jack said, tickling Jay’s belly button, “a hot new body. Or at least the makings of one.”

“You’re right. Free at last. I’m going on a pussy spree.”, Jay bragged. His boys laughed and vowed to join Jay on his pursuits.

Another two months have passed –

Jay sat a Nautilus machine taking a rest between reps. He stared into the mirror directly facing him. He smirked as he admired his image. In five months, through hard work and dedication, Jay had morphed into a muscled stud, a proud member of Beefcake Central. He sported his tight black gym shorts and opted for shirtless. “Why wear shirts?”, he and the other firemen opined. The beads of perspiration glistened upon his upper body and his brow. As he finished his third set of reps, Bret, the trainer, walked by Jay and smiled. “You’re camera ready.”

Jay stood up from the exercise machine and stared at Bret. Bret admired Jay’s form. The trainer took great pride in his work with all the firemen. (To see Jay, click here). “You think?”, Jay said.

“Oh, yeah.”, Bret said. “Are you done?”

“No, I’ve got another 30 minutes.”, Jay said.

“I’ll see you around.”, Bret replied, a smirk poised on his face.

When Jay finished his routine, he headed for the locker. He stripped, fetched his towel, and walked towards the shower stalls. As Jay was showering. Bret walked into the showers and located Jay’s stall. He slipped into Jay’s stalls and whispered, “One more test, beefcake, and we’ll see if you’re camera ready.” Jay turned around to face Bret. Bret kissed Jay and smiled. Bret dropped his towel to the ground, fell to his knees upon the folded towel, and swallowed Jay’s cock. Bret could feel the blood surging and throbbing in Jay’s cock. Bret looked up and smiled at Jay. “Ready.”, he mumbled. Jay stood there, accepting Bret’s blow-job, grateful that he found someone who knew how to suck cock. He thrust his hips, shoving his cock down Bret’s throat, feeling the touch of Bret’s studded tongue and wet mouth. Bret jangled Jay’s balls and tickled his rosebud, but went no further.

Jay needed little time to bust his nut. He showered Bret’s face with ounces of goo. The two studs finished showering, lathering each other’s bodies. Bret stepped out of the stall first, making sure the coast was clear. As Bret walked out of Jay’s stall, he found Jenkins waiting for him, wrapped in a bath towel. ” He’s ready.”, Bred reported to Jenkins.

Jenkins smiled. He and Bret coordinated the calendar and the promotional appearances for the boys. He and Bret also scheduled the boys for ‘Stationhouse Nights’ where patrons visited the station house and enjoyed the sexual favors of the ‘Boys of Beefcake Central’. Bret and Jenkins earned thousands from the sexual exploits of the Boys. They spread some of the wealth, but not much. Profits lined their pockets, but also paid for the stationhouse upgrades.

Later, that night, Jenkins and Bret hosted a ‘Stationhouse Night’. For the first time, Jay entertained patrons. Like all the boys of ‘Beefcake Central’, including Captain Marvillo, Jay serviced three patrons, earned several hundred dollars for Jenkins and Bret, and pocketed about $300 in tips. All in all, Jenkins and Bret netted about $10,000 in one night.

Jay excelled in his transformation from paunch to ripped, from faithful boyfriend to unsuspecting man-whore. He became exactly what he feared – a ‘Stepford fireman’. Of course, he did not complain about the $3000 in cash he earned in guest appearances and loose cash he found in his bedroom. He was happy to be a member of Engine 69.

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