(This will be my last caption for a while, taking a short break from daily captions to focus on finishing some longer stories/series I've been toying around with. Hope to be back in two/three weeks with with daily stuff)
Heaven and Hell
The blood in Steve’s body couldn’t decide whether to rush to his humble cock or to his scarlet blushing cheeks as the black tank top clad hunk pushed his pecs even deeper into Steve’s face. When Steve got a good whiff of the deep manly musk building between those globes of power, he had to remind himself that this hunk wasn’t any more real than an ordinary trick of the light.
But despite knowing better, it was for Steve hard to write off the muscles pushing into face as simple illusions. The blood pumping strongly through the protruding pecs certainly felt real.
Perhaps the only indication of the spectral nature of the muscles slowly pushing themselves into Steve’s face was the fact that the entire afternoon commute on the bus seemed to not notice the lewd display. Well, that, and the fact that the hunky body wasn’t reflecting in the bus’ windows or casting any shadow in the midday sun.
“Come on Amaimon, don’t taunt the mortal.” A deep voice commanded from behind. Steve was slightly disappointed as the warm cushion of pecs slowly pulled back, the cocky grin adorning the hunk’s face made sure his shorts stayed tenting however. “You’re such a killjoy, Xapham. The human likes being taunted, doesn’t he?” The hunk asked the last question while throwing a wink into Steve’s direction, who had quickly covered his bulge with his college books.
With a sigh a second hunk walked into view. Just like the one who had just pushed his pecs into Steve’s face, this hunk was similarly bulging and hulking with mass. When he had last seen him, the hunk had introduced himself as Xaphan, full time stud, part-time emissary of the heavens. He was the inverse to the hunk who had been teasing Steve, who just so happened to be the envoy all things demonic.
The fact that the representation for all things virtuous happened to wear a white tank top, and his antithesis happened to wear a black top at least made the two supernatural yet sexy agents easy to keep apart.
Steve grew a little sweaty, he knew what was about to happen now that the two heralds were in the same room. “I guess there’s another target?” Steve meekly asked, trying not to lose himself too much in Xaphan’s downward pointing plump nipples. “Bingo, twerp.” Amaimon snickered, bouncing his own pecs to reenter Steve’s center of attention. Steve traced the stretched out arm of the demonic emissary, seeing it point to what looked like a college jock sitting five rows in front of him in the bus.
“That’s Max, a relatively unremarkable jock. Attends college a few towns over, just in town to spend a few nights with his girl.” Xaphan calmly explained. Steve shook in his seat as he suddenly felt Amaimon's large hand smack down on his shoulders. “You know what’s next right, little guy?” The demonic emissary enquired. Steve nodded, the two hulking heralds had visited him enough times by now he got the gist of their game.
“The rules state we’ve got to first lay out his options transparently, Amaimon, we’re following those, to the T.” Steve could hear the demon groan in the background. Xaphan did his best to ignore the childish complaints coming from the supersized stud. “Max is relatively unremarkable, as far football jock’s go. Not the best on his team, far from the worst. Helps around in the community, donates to charity, and is truthful 96,45% of the time.” Xaphan was clearly happy with the report of Max’s merit as he read it out loud, his thick and low hanging adam’s apple bouncing up and down happily.
Amaimon looked like he was just about to comment on the boring nature of Max’s life before Xaphan cut him off again. “Our side recommends we award Max for his virtue. We could size him a quite a bit, but continue to keep him humble. Motivate him to dedicate his life and body to inspiring others to take a path beneficial to others above all else.” Xaphan smiled happily as he spoke, the idea of a supersized paragon of morality clearly seeming appealing to him.
Amaimon yawned, stretching his muscles and redrawing the attention to himself, his twenty two inch biceps glinstering attractively in the sunlight.
“Booorrring.” The demon mumbled in between his yawns. “Wouldn’t it be way more fun to expand Max’s ego even more than the giant muscles we’d give him? How about some sex obsessed narcissist who fucks his way through everyone on campus? Someone who takes pleasure in showing off how inferior all the lesser men of the world are compared to his divine body?” Amaimon’s eyes lit up, fires dancing in his pupils at the thought of an egotistical overgrown jock.
Xaphan did his best to cover up the growing boner in his trousers, and pulled his best impression of someone who was disgusted by what he just heard. The deep rooted desire to see a self centered muscle freak was unmistakably on his face however. “The morality paragon plan would inspire around 500 souls to make enough changes to their life to get entrance to up to there.” Xaphan softly said, using his thickly muscular thumb to point to the roof of the bus.
“And the overgrown dickhead plan would push around 50,000 souls to such extremes of jealousy and lust they’d end up down there.” Amaimon added, pointing to the disgusting floor of the bus.
“As usual, you have five minutes to decide.” Xaphan soberly noted. “Choose wisely.” Amaimon said, a cocky smirk once again plastered on his face.
Not even a plop was heard as the two emissaries suddenly disappeared into nothingness. They’d be back soon enough, demanding an answer once again from poor Steve.
He wondered when heaven would finally come up with a plan convincing enough to pick it over boundless attractiveness of creating another cocky jock.