Welcome to Muscle Growth Forums

Register now to gain access to all of our features. Once registered and logged in, you will be able to contribute to this site by submitting your own content or replying to existing content. You'll be able to customize your profile, receive reputation points as a reward for submitting content, while also communicating with other members via your own private inbox, plus much more! This message will be removed once you have signed in.

CardiMuscleman

Moderator
  • Content count

    904
  • Joined

  • Last visited

Community Reputation

909 Excellent

About CardiMuscleman

  • Rank
    500+ Posts
  • Birthday 08/31/74

Contact Methods

  • Yahoo
    cardimuscleman
  • Skype
    harry.hayfield

Profile

  • Location
    Wales
  • This profile is a...
    real profile.
  • Gender
    Male
  • Orientation
    Straight
  • What are your interests?
    Astronomy, Bodybuilding, Current Affairs, Drama, Elections, Fitness, Geography, History, Literature (English, European), Meteorology, News, Politics, Renn Faires, Science, Theatre

Recent Profile Visitors

2703 profile views
  1. time-historical

    Part Three "Musketeers" shouted Captain Treville, "Musketeer Porthos has been challenged to a series of feats of physical strength chosen by his challenger Cadet Dixon. Come one, come all and witness this battle of strength" Roger was surprised that Porthos had agreed to his choice of events (all of which he excelled in) and was beginning to wonder if this was a big mistake on his part but decided not to show any sign of pulling out as Porthos entered the centre of the garrison to a huge cheer. Roger gulped as nearly every Musketeer jeered him as he entered despite bowing to Porthos who ignored him completely. "The first event" bellowed the Captain with all eyes focused on him, "is that traditional test of strength between two men, arm wrestling. To ensure fair play, both contestants must show that they are using only their arms therefore their torsos must be exposed to the world" Roger smiled and roared as he ripped off his top of his uniform and hit a most muscular pose making sure that Porthos got to see every single part of his torso. For a moment he was back on stage and as he squeezed his pecs hard, he could imagine the crowd roaring his name. Sadly as he opened his eyes he saw that the roaring was for Porthos and as his eyes took in the Titan, he could feel himself getting excited. "Oh man" he moaned to himself, "I knew Porthos was big but, oh fuck, look at him. He's a good foot taller than me and he's got to be at least 233lbs of almost fat free mass. Oh, fuck, that glorius chest, it has to be 47 inches at least, and those straitions. Come on, keep it together man, he's...oh shit, those biceps, nineteen inches of hard guns, oh man, this...this is going to be more of a challenge that I was expecting. Come on, Roger, get it together, you're were the undfeated arm wrestling champion at the Arnold five years in a row. You can take him!" and with that Roger approached his opponent. Porthos and Roger sat down facing each other, grabbed each other's hand, rested them on a table as Treville made sure their arms were sturdy. Then with the command of "Wrestle" he let go and both men tested their strength. Roger was relieved when it became clear that he was able to contain Porthos's strength, as he knew that if he could ensure that Porthos didn't win within five minutes there was every chance that he could because he had endurance, stamina and determination. He was going to take Porthos down. Indeed, for the Musketeers this element was starting to get a little boring as both hands stayed stationery. "Come on Porthos,” shouted a voice, "you can take this upstart down!" "What do you think I'm doing Athos?" Porthos grunted but still the hands remained stationery. Beads of sweat were starting to form on Porthos's brow and so Roger decided to take a chance. He took a deep breath and pushed hard. Porthos was taken quite by surprise but managed to prevent his hand going down. Roger piled on the pressure, his heart pounding, his breathing getting deeper and deeper and looking deep into Porthos's eyes. Suddenly without warning Porthos's hand hit the table and with that Roger leapt up and hit a double biceps pose only to be greeted by booing. Amongst the Musketeers booing was Albert and D'Artangan who commented that Porthos must have something that didn't agree with him. "Now that's a little unkind!" said another voice as it joined in the conversation, "even Titans have an off day!" "Henri" humphed Albert, "you are sometimes too English for your own good!" "Does it show that much?" chuckled the latest arrival. As both D'Artanagn and Albert looked him up and down, they nodded in unison to which Henri replied "Look, you know perfectly well why I am here. I have to stop the Duke's meetings with the Queen from becoming common knowledge in England. The fact that everyone knows about them in France is all right, after all it what you Frenchies do. Me, I just do my job and help you and the rest when I am able to!" "And look it as well?" added D'Artangan "Well, excuse me!" replied Henri annoyed, "We can't all be Ultimate Musketeers you know. Don't think I haven't heard you wanting to meet him one day, and that experiment of yours Albert, admit it, you don't want to listen to his pulse really do you? You just want him to be in your presence for a few moments!" Both men bowed their heads to which Henri replied with a loud chuckle, "Oh, come on you two, look, next time I see him I'll have a word and see what he says? All right?" and with that looked at his wrist clock and gasped "Heavens, I'll be late, tell me how this ends up will you? I've got good money on Porthos you know!" and with that Henri dashed off leaving D'Artangan to chuckle "Shall we tell him that Porthos loses just to see his reaction?" "The next event" announced Treville before Albert could answer, "is the cask lift. At the far end of the garrison are five casks. The first one is empty, the second contains wine, the third wet sand, the fourth stones and the fifth contains cannonballs. Your task is to start from here, pick each cask up and run back to the start, creating a tower as you go. The person who is able to build the tallest tower wins. Cadet Dixon, as the smaller, you go first. Aramis, a gunshot if you please!" Aramis fired a gun and Roger raced off. The first cask was easy, and he had no problem picking it up and arrived at the start a mere fifteen seconds later, next came the cask of wine, again a complete doddle, and placing it on the empty cask he arrived back at the start just forty five seconds after starting. However by the time he got to thee third cask of wet sand, he was having problems. It wasn't due to the weight, after all he had overhead pressed a lot more than this; the problem was balancing it all but he made it back to the start with three minutes have elapsed. Walking as fast as he could he reached the cask with the stones and rearranging the pile so that the casks he had already collected were on the top, he picked them all up and started to gently walk back to the start, sadly the tower was not as stable as Roger had hoped for and the first cask fell off the top, shattering at it hit the ground and Aramis signalled that he had finished by firing a gun again. As Porthos set off, Roger was breathing hard but confident that Porthos would have the same problem as him, but was staggered when Porthos tipped the casks on their side and balanced them on his barrel chest. Thinking that is not what the Captain wanted, Roger was about to raise an ojection when a gun fired. Roger turned round to see Porthos with a broad grin on his face with a tower of two barrels on each of his pecs and the fifth balanced between the two. "Fuck!" Roger moaned to himself as he felt his cock harden. "The final challenge" announced Treville silencing the crowd, "will decide the result. It will depend on the strength of the legs and the stomach, therefore I ask that all Musketeers of weak stomaches to leave the courtyard!" Roger was a bit bemused by this statement and wondered what was going to happen, his answer soon came when Treville turned to them. "Gentlemen, you may now disrobe!" Porthos wasted no time and tore off his breeches leaving Roger stunned. There was his hero, Porthos, naked as the day he was born with an unbelieveable cock that, even though it was flaccid, had to be nine inches long. He was so in awe of it, that he just stood there transfixed. Treville had seen this before and with that clapped his hands and as he did Athos came up, grabbed hold of Roger's breeches and ripped them off stating "Get on with it!" Treville then instructed them to both sit down with their legs apart then manually moved them so that Porthos had his legs wrapped around Roger and Roger had his legs wrapped around Porthos. Next he summoned Athos who arrived with a two pairs of chains that he attached to both of their hands that were placed behind them. "The first person to force the other to submit is the overall winner,” announced Treville, and with that Aramis fired the gun. Roger was delighted. This final test was right up his street and he soon dived right into the task. It was a little tricky trying to manoeuvre and Porthos's cock got in the way on several occasions but eventually he had managed to free him from the hold and had Porthos face down in the dirt with his legs behind his back. He was finally confident that this wouldn't take too long. Or at least he would have been if he'd not heard Porthos growling. He managed to place a finger on Porthos's pec and was stunned to count Porthos's pulse climbing to almost a hundred and ninety beats per minute. He was gearing himself up for something and that something was to take Roger's breath away. With a roar, Porthos snapped the chains and threw Roger onto his front. If Roger wanted to win he was going to have to do the same. The idea of breaking a chain like in the old muscle films he watched was unbelievable, but as he remembered all the golden age peplum stars Steve Reeves, Dave Draper, and even Arnie breaking free of being imprisoned by flexing their big powerful muscles, he felt himself starting to loose control. And as he did he growled, pulled on his chains and let rip, pulling against them with every ounce of strength he had. Slowly, but surely, he could feel the bonds losening and as he did, his cock started to react and gradually started to work it's way closer to Porthos's ass. The closer it got, the more that Roger got excited and the more he got excited the stronger he got. Just as his cock was level with Porthos's ass, he took a deep breath and screamed as he ripped the chains out of the ground and then launching himself at Porthos, grabbed him in a leg lock and squeezed hard around his neck with every ounce of strength in his quads. As Porthos realised what was happening he struggled to break free, but to no avail and after a valiant struggle, he gasped "I surrender,” gasped Porthos. Roger stood up, and flexed hard as Treville raised his hand. The Musketeers didn't know what to think until Porthos stood up and addressed them. "Fellow Musketeers" he said, "It has been written that I could only be bested by a son of Hercules. Behold that son!" and he raised Roger's other hand in the air causing the garrison to cheer as they too recognised that they had a new hero in their midst, a man that much shorter than Porthos who in turn was shorter than the Ultimate Musketeer but had strength that could match both of them.
  2. time-historical

    Part Two "Yeah, admit it Porthos. Your eyes are screaming "Please, I beg you, stop this torture" but your cock is telling me a different story. How many men do you know can do what I am forcing you to do? How many men can, whilst completely naked under a heat lamp to make your body all hot and sweaty, bench a falconet cannon? How many men can, at the same time have electrodes attached to their nipples, cock and balls and be commanded to withstand the torment of being e-stimmed? How many men can, at the same time as all that, have their pulse linked to the heat lamp so that the faster their heart pumps the hotter it gets? And how many men can, whilst all that is going on, with their mouth gagged, still be willing to carry on? Oh, Porthos, you are the Titan it is true, but, oh fuck, you are rapidly turning into a god in my eyes. So let's make you a god then. On the count of three, I am going to increase the voltage surging through you from a mere thousand volts to a million volts! Yeah, that's right, I am going to increase the voltage by a factor of a thousand! Yeah, your eyes tell me exactly what you are thinking. You're screaming "Mercy" well, you know what Porthos, tough. You see, before I started I hypnotised myself so that the only way you could end this was to do something and do you know what that something is? No? Well, don't ask me then because I don't know either. Yeah, that's right Porthos, you are subject to my whim until you do something. Now, prepare yourself, Titan, prepare yourself for the mental, physical and sexual agony that is a million volts surging through your body, prepare yourself for a mega amp of electrical current surging through your heart, making that heat lamp work overtime increasing the current even more as you sweat buckets. Yeah, that's right Porthos, you are going to become a god and you know it. One, yeah, this is it Porthos, two, get ready for the most powerful experience of your life, thr..." "CADET DIXON! GET OUT OF BED RIGHT NOW AND FOLLOW ME!" The sudden and quite unexpected alarm call woke Roger up with such a start that he came instantly. As the orgasm hit him, he opened his eyes dopily and came face to face with a monster. It was a man much bigger than he was, but sadly all fat and no muscle, with a scowling expression. Grabbing hold of the bedsheets the monster tore them away with such force that Roger screamed as the dried cum ripped off his torso and as he lay there completely naked, panting, the monster chuckled "So who was the lucky fellow this time then, eh? Was it D'Artangan? Don't think I have seen you leering after him every time we go for a swim? Or is it Albert? Are you trying to get him to invent something that will make your dreams reality? Or is it Henri? Just because he knows the Ultimate Musketeer, you seriously think he'd let you anywhere near him! Hah, now get dressed and come with me, the Captain wants to see you and he wants to see you NOW!" and with that bellowed instruction Roger woke up, jumped out of the bed and got dressed in double quick time all the while the monster laughing his head off. As Roger completed the task, he stood to attention and tried to make sense of what was going on as he followed the monster. It was pretty clear that he was not in Fort Collins as where in Fort Collins, no scratch that the United States would there be almost a castle like building that seemed to be home to various people (all men) doing things straight out of a Ren Faire. There were people jabbing at dummies with large swords, chatting around barrels and even one person doing a very good impression of being pelted with tomatoes. After a while, the monster told Roger to stop and he knocked on a door and was allowed entry. Roger tried to figure what was going on but was failing badly. Just then the monster came back, snapped his fingers in front of Roger and said "Hey, dreamer! Captain Treville wants to see you!" As Roger entered the room, his head was spinning. "Captain Treville? No, that's impossible! That's the person in charge of the Musketeers and Porthos's superior officer!" He was so lost in his thoughts Roger collided with the Captain's desk and caused Treville to look up. He was clearly annoyed. He stood up to his full height, towering over Roger by a good six inches, and looked down at him. "You have been here for two days, Cadet!" he bellowed, "and yet in that time you have managed to desecrate the flag of our King, scare off our best horses, ruin a perfectly good sword and if that wasn't bad enough, disgrace the uniform of a Musketeer cadet by swimming in the Royal pond naked!" and with that glared at Roger before shouting "Do you have anything to say?" "Was Her Majesty pleased?" asked Roger, with a smile on his face "PORTHOS!" shouted the Captain at a volume so loud Roger covered his ears in case they popped. A short while later, the Titan entered and as he did, Roger began a quivering jelly. "Porthos" said the Captain, "I am giving you responsibility for this ruffian. I am assuming that as you're the strongest Musketeer you can try and knock some sense into him!" Porthos looked the quivering mass that was Roger up and down and chuckled to himself saying "Captain, I believe I can" and with that picked Roger by the shoulders and brought him up to his face. He was about to make a comment when Roger took the chance and kissed him. Porthos pulled him away and roared his anger "Summon the garrison, Treville" he bellowed, holding Roger at arms length, "this man has dared to challenge the might of Porthos and for that he shall pay!"
  3. time-historical

    Part One Roger Dixon was a stud! It was almost as if he only had to step onto a bodybuilding stage and the world just caved into him. He won every single class he entered be it his local contest, the statewide contest, a regional contest, a national contest, a continent contest or even the day he was crowned Mr. Universe in his class, indeed that day he really let them know what he was packing. He stood up to his maximum height and brought the house down, showing off every sinew of his proportionate 266lb mass. His proportionate 53 inch chest, with his proportionate 2½ inch long nipples just oozed mascunlinity and when coupled with a proportionate 27 inch waist his proportionate eight pack was a thing of wonder to behold. His proportionate 22 inch guns, with veins streaking along them, were unmissable, his proportionate 28 inch quads glistened under the lights, his proportionate 23 inch calves and his proportionate 22 inch thick neck ensured that he won the best poser class as well and was even brought out to pose against the overall winner. But that was all in the past. It was his own desire that was his undoing. First, when at a photoshoot he attempted a 300lb bench much more than he could actually manage to show off his power and tore both his pecs and then the real trouble came when he was caught in a media sting operation and outed. He had always been gay, he loved the attention of people drooling over his muscles, his cock a proportionate 9 inch monster when hard was his pride and joy, no one had complained when photos showing his bulge on stage flooded the magazines but as soon as he was outed, he was dropped faster than you could say "One Hit Wonder". Even now, twenty years after last stepping on stage, he still looked after himself but knew that standing just a mere five foot two tall, weighing 146lbs though still as lean as anything, his 42½ inch chest, 32 inch waist, 14½ inch biceps, 22½ inch quads and 15 inch calves would never cut the mustard against the modern stars of the stage. Even the people in his grand master classes were bigger than he was and as he watched the recording of the last show he had streamed, he traced the buldging pecs of Mr. Grand Master Colorado 2015, a man aged as the same as Roger, 65, yet so muscular Roger wanted to wrap his arms about him and pummel him into submission. But Roger now happy living at his home in Fort Collins, Colorado where he spent most of his days on online forums discussing bodybuilding history and reading stories about the most powerful men ever to exist on the face of the planet had his dreams and would regularly wake up, covered with a thick layer of cum having read stories, both real and fan made, of Hercules lifting an entire cliff face, He-Man wrestling a clone of himself, Milos of Croton splitting a tree apart with his bare hands and his personal favourite, the final act of that Titan, Porthos, holding up a cave to allow his friend to escape. Whenever he read that story, his dreams were always the same. He would rescue that man, take him to his own personal gym where people could train in the nude, and work that man until he begged for mercy, then ram him until he screamed for mercy and then, torture him with high voltage until he caved in and panted "I submit" and allow him and Roger to swap bodies so that Roger could experience the power of the Titan for himself. This interest in the Titan of old eventually developed into an interest in Renn Faires and it wasn't long before Roger, dressed as the Titan himself, was a regular feature and made sure that his body was the centre of attention as demonstrated just the previous week when, whilst holding a talk on the strength of heroes, and deadlifting two hundred pounds for the whole talk, a Spartan came up, grabbed hold of his biceps and squeezed them saying "Arms, that would defy Hercules in their strength" It was after a Renn Faire, where having been a member for a decade the organisers presented him with a leather bound copy of all of the tales of the Musketeers, that Roger found himself in a unique position. He'd been reading another one of Porthos's feats of strength and as per usual was getting very excited about it. “This group was superintended by the man whom D'Artagnan had already remarked, and who appeared to be the engineer-in-chief. A plan was lying open before him upon a large stone forming a table, and at some paces from him a crane was in action. This engineer, who by his evident importance first attracted the attention of D'Artagnan, wore a justaucorps, which, from its sumptuousness, was scarcely in harmony with the work he was employed in, that rather necessitated the costume of a master-mason than of a noble. He was a man of immense stature and great square shoulders, and wore a hat covered with feathers. He gesticulated in the most majestic manner, and appeared, for D'Artagnan only saw his back, to be scolding the workmen for their idleness and want of strength” “Oh, yeah” moaned Roger, “I think I know where this is headed” and with that started to rub his cock in anticipation. “D'Artagnan continued to draw nearer. At that moment, the man with the feathers ceased to gesticulate, and, with his hands placed upon his knees, was following, half-bent, the effort of six workmen to raise a block of hewn stone to the top of a piece of timber destined to support that stone, so that the cord of the crane might be passed under it. The six men, all on one side of the stone, united their efforts to raise it to eight or ten inches from the ground, sweating and blowing, whilst a seventh got ready for when there should be daylight enough beneath it to slide in the roller that was to support it. But the stone had already twice escaped from their hands before gaining a sufficient height for the roller to be introduced. There can be no doubt that every time the stone escaped them, they bounded quickly backwards, to keep their feet from being crushed by the refalling stone. Every time, the stone, abandoned by them, sunk deeper into the damp earth, which rendered the operation more and more difficult. A third effort was followed by no better success, but with progressive discouragement. And yet, when the six men were bent towards the stone, the man with the feathers had himself, with a powerful voice, given the word of command, "Ferme!" which regulates maneuvers of strength. Then he drew himself up” “Yeah” moaned Roger, the rubbing becoming faster making his cock longer, harder and redder , “You show them, Porthos” “The workmen, as commanded by the engineer, drew back with their ears down, and shaking their heads, except for the one who held the plank, who prepared to perform the office” “Oh, fuck” Roger moaned, as his hips started to buck and he could feel himself getting even more aroused “The man with the feathers went up to the stone, stooped, slipped his hands under the face lying upon the ground, stiffened his Herculean muscles, and without a strain, with a slow motion, like that of a machine, lifted the end of the rock a foot from the ground” “Yeah” he moaned again, “show them pure muscle!” “The workman who held the plank profited by the space thus given him, and slipped the roller under the stone. "That's the way," said the giant, not letting the rock fall again, but placing it upon its support” “YEAH!” roared Roger, “SHOW THEM ALL WHAT IT MEANS TO BE PORTHOS” and with that he came so violently that in combination with the long day and the orgasm that followed, Roger started to fall asleep and dropped the book to the ground moaning “Oh, Porthos, I wish I could meet you one day!” and with that slipped into sleep, his cock spurting cum as he did so. This will be a very long story (but I cannot say how many parts it will be). I know from experience how boring that long a story can be so therefore I would like members to help liven it up with their artistic skills be it people like @powerbeats illustrating the sheer effort needed to perform a feat of near superhuman strength, people like @leogrando showing how big people are, or even @darkluster4 showing what happens later on when Roger experiences the full force of the Titan. Therefore I am giving every single illustrator carte blanche to draw what they like when they like
  4. As you are speaking to a person who lost all his investments in an oil company (that was supposed to be the next Exxon) and lost of all his shares in a bank when it went belly up in 2008, however I have seen something on BBC News which I think will interest a lot of members of this board and therefore believe I am correct in sharing it. So there you go, gentlemen, if we want to expand we all need to learn Mandarin Chinese (and maybe keep an eye on Chinese bodybuilders as well!)
  5. time-historical

    Part Five "What news have you brought?" asked Captain Dennis as his second in command Lt. Jones entered into his tent and saluted "My lord" he declared, "we are surrounded on all fronts!" Captain Dennis cursed as he thumped his table with the maps of the battle on it. This wasn't supposed to have happened. His tactic of encamping the night before in a secure location had turned into possibly the worst decision of the entire war and now it was only a matter of time before the Parliamentary forces opened up their cannons and blasted them all to bits. As he looked up at his second in command he sighed "David, we need a miracle!" "Did someone call?" boomed a voice as, after ducking to ensure he didn't bring the tent down, a literal giant walked into the tent stood to attention and saluted. As he did the Captain's face started to beam and he asked "Is that really you?" "What?" chuckled the man, his laugh as big as he was, "you don't recognise the English Titan?" and with that he picked up Lt. Jones and lifted him above his head and with that lifted the man over his head without stopping as he said "I believe that I can stop those cannons and promise safe passage out of this wood, and all I ask is one thing!" "Name it, Titan" replied the Captain, "and it shall be yours!" As he lowered the Lt. to the ground who had to steady himself against a pole, the Titan laughed "I'll let you know when I have completed my task. All I need is the cartographer to this battalion!" As the Captain pointed to a tent at the far end of the camp, the Titan bowed, ducked again and as he walked the two officers watched him saying "He exists" almost as if they had seen a ghost. Inside his tent, Tim, the cartographer, was pouring over his charts trying to work out what had gone wrong. This area had been mapped just two weeks ago. As he continued to search he almost failed to notice the shadow over his maps and as he looked up, and up, and up, a smile crossed his face. "Hello there, Henry" he smiled, "What's this, our third visit?" As Henry boomed "Can't keep a good Cardigan down can you?" the two men shook hands or rather Henry shook Tim by the hand and then apologising forgetting his strength asked what he could do. Tim, pointing to the map, said "There's an old earthworks not far from here, if that were to increase in height by around five feet, that would make the cannons of the Roundheads useless" adding as he looked up from the map, "so fancy a good exercise session!" "So long as we celebrate in the usual way?" chuckled Henry to which Tim replied, "I wouldn't have it any other way, my friend!" *** "English Titan, I...I...I cannot thank you enough" said the Captain two hours later, "Increasing those earthworks in height by nine feet by merely burrowing through the ground like that, I mean, it, it beggars belief!" As Henry smiled, he apologised for the clumps of earth that he had dragged in on his boots to which the Captain replied "A small price for our lives!" "Which reminds me!" chuckled Henry, "my price. I wish to take your cartographer, Tim, and ensure that he returns home to his family safe and sound" "What sort of a man would I be to refuse such a request!" said the Captain, "It is granted" and as Henry bowed and left the tent, he knelt down so that Tim could scramble up his back and wrapping his arms about the giant's neck whispered "Home Henry!" which was greeted with a "For the honour of His Majesty" and Henry bounded off almost jumping a fathom at a time. As he watched him go, the Captain's heart sank. That man, that English Titan was a legend to all Cavaliers, and he wished, oh, how he wished, that he too could feel the strength and power of that man. *** "Ah, hello there lad" said Captain Eric of His Majesty's Cavaliers based outside Nottingham, "come to sign up in defence of His Majesty have you?" The lad nodded saying "Aye, sir, my name is Jim and I believe that I can make the best maps this side of London!" "Oooh" replied the Captain, "a cartographer eh? We could do with one of those! By the way, I cannot help but notice you seem to be wearing a badge of some kind, are you a member of a special family?" As Jim looked at the badge he smiled replying "I am the adopted son of a man who I know that this country looks up to, sir, a man who makes ever the most powerful Roundhead quake in his boots, I, sir, am the adopted son of the English Titan!" As soon as Jim mentioned that name, the Captain went weak at the knees and steadying him answered, in a falsetto voice, "Good on you lad, well get drawing then!" and as Jim was dismissed with a moan from the Captain he whispered under his breath "Henry Cardigan, lord of the county that bears his name, and the man taught in the ways of that true Titan, Porthos!"
  6. Aside from what they have online, no. I would know a lot more as I was willing to sponsor a friend of mine who wanted to compete in the Gay Games last year (but couldn't) to compete in this, but following the election of President Trump he's basically withdrawn from the world and lives at the top of a mountain in CA
  7. time-historical

    Part Four "Porthos was a living Titan, to understand what I am about to tell you, you have understand that. Do you my child?" Henry nodded and with that closed his eyes "He stood at least six feet tall in his prime and weighed as close to a falconet cannon as it was possible to be. And, oh, his feats of strength took away the breath of all who witnessed them, myself included, but this tale of strength I am going to tell you was a feat of strength like no other. It took place when we were in Spain on a mission to hand back a collection of jewels known as the King's Lights. Yes, that's right, my child, I said we. I too was a member of that mission and that is why I can remember what happened that day with absolute clarity" "Mi bebé, por favor, mi bebé!" As we all turned we gasped as there in the middle of the street was a baby playing with a rattle and at the far end a bull, the largest and most angry looking any of us had ever seen. As the baby looked up, it gurgled with joy and with that the bull charged. Porthos, without a moment of hesistation, leapt off his horse and ran towards the bull with Aramis shouting "Come back, not even you are that strong" but nothing could stop him and just inches from the baby, the bull met an immoveable force, Porthos. As the two forces met, Porthos's back arched forwards and he groaned, almost in agony, but managed to take a couple of steps forward before the bull started to resist. From that moment on it was a titanic human against a titanic animal. First the bull moved forward, but Porthos resisted and then he stepped forward but the bull resisted. The sheer agony writ on Porthos's face, it...it did something to me. Henry opened his eyes and asked "What, grandfather?" to which the reply came, "It made me the man I am today" and with that gently closed his grandson's eyes in order to continue the tale "Porthos, I'm coming!" I yelled and dismounted my own horse, charged towards him, jumped onto his back and wrapped my arms and legs around his bulging torso. "Thomas" he grunted, "get off me!" "Take me, Titan" I moaned, squeezing hard, "I have spent the last five years under your tutelage to become stronger. Please, I am begging you, take my strength, let me help you!" and with that I closed my eyes and started whispering a spell that I had learned as a child, a spell that was only to be used in extreme danger, a spell that would allow me to feed the Titan my own strength. As Porthos continued to battle the bull, I could feel his body bulging under my arms and legs and so willed myself to let my strength flow into him. The more I willed myself, the more I could feel his body bulging and the more his body bulged, the more I...the more I....the more I...the more I wanted to be part of him and screamed "PORTHOS, TAKE MY STRENGTH" and that is when it happened. Porthos roared with an almost animalistic sound, knelt down on one knee and lifted that bull over his head. As he did, I felt something I had never felt before. Love, love for the man who was performing the impossible and as the bull passed over our heads he roared "TAKE MY STRENGTH" and as he slammed it down to the ground behind him I felt...I felt..I felt..more alive than I had ever felt before and screamed like an animal before passing out. When I awoke, Porthos was leaning over me and chuckling "Hello, Thomas, who is the Titan now?" and with that helped me to my feet and kissed me adding "Whilst thou be thy lover?" Henry's eyes opened wide as he looked at his grandfather who simply nodded and said "You are looking at the only man alive who has loved the Titan" and with that allowed Henry to jump down and said "You have heard all of my stories about the Titan and his family. I will now ask you the question I said I would ask" and with that he stood up and announced "Henry, do you wish to learn the secret of the Titan's strength?" Henry nodded without hesitation and as his grandfather picked him up with a smile he said "Then, tomorrow we shall start and ensure that a new Titan is born!"
  8. I have a friend who has a similar problem (although with him it usually happens in the locker room) as whenever he flexes post workout he always gets an erection. One way he gets around this is to train when there is no one there (either late at night or early in the morning) so therefore would ask if you had considered that as a possible solution?
  9. time-historical

    Part Three As Henry sat on his grandfather's lap he said "I am ready for the tale of the father of Porthos!" and with that closed his eyes adding "Tell me what he was like and the feat of strength that so impressed you and I will imagine it as best I can!" As Lord Cardigan chuckled to himself he began the tale of Gaspard, Porthos's father Gaspard was a true solder, serving under both King Henry III and IV of France. People often described him as rough, but one thing was true. His place was on the back of a horse and it was a feat of strength involving his horse that I witnessed. It was during one of the many battles I served alongside him, I honestly forget which one, but we were both pinned down by enemy fire. It looked a desperate situation but Gaspard, sitting as he always did on his brave horse, told me to keep faith that our guns would free us. Just then, there was a mighty explosion that we were both thrown from our horses and before I had time to roll away both mine and his horse fell on me. I was trapped, unable to move and still being pinned down by enemy fire. That man, my grandson, bellowed "I will not leave you" and with that performed a feat of strength I have never seen before and probably never shall again. Placing his hands underneath both horses bellies he grunted "Roll" and with that lifted them both just enough so I could roll away. As Henry opened his eyes again he gasped "How..." before his grandfather answered "Both horses weighed just under two thousand livre de Paris, my lad, that is the same as nineteen hundred pounds here in Britain". Henry just stared at his grandfather in disbelief and asked "If Antoine could destroy a house and Gaspard could lift two horses, what could Porthos do?" to which the reply came "Tomorrow, my grandson, tomorrow I will tell you the feat of strength that secured Porthos's place..." and with that he let his grandson jump down and only finished the sentence when he was out of earshot adding "...in my heart"
  10. Ever since the UK voted to leave the European Union, people have been trying to work out the reasons why. Are we naturally isolationist (because we are an island)? Do we simply have nothing in common with Europe? Did we vote to leave to kick the establishment? Now, a new reason has come forward, we are not that well endowed Research has come to light that suggests that average member in the United Kingdom is 13.97cm (5½ inches) long when erect. This compares to the other 27 EU countries who range from 12.78cm (5 inches) in the Irish Republic to 16.51cm (6½ inches) in Hungary. In fact when you expand the range to the European continent the only Ireland, Finland, Estonia, Romania, Armenia, Macedonia, Span and Portugal are smaller than the United Kingdom. In the interests of fullness there is no data from Latvia, Lithuania and Serbia
  11. Are these the same people who came up with the concept of a "gay bomb" a few years ago?
  12. time-historical

    Part Two "As I tell you these stories, my lad" said Lord Cardigan, with his grandson now sitting on his lap, "try and imagine what I am telling you. Imagine the size of these people, the strength demonstrated by them and the awe they inspired in others!" Henry nodded and as his grandfather started, he closed his eyes and allowed his grandfather's words to be his canvas. "Porthos's grandfather was called Antoine and as Porthos told me on several occasions, he was at least twice as strong as he was himself. It was suggested that this meant he was Samson, the mightiest man ever to live, however Porthos always said "No, he is nothing more than my grandfather". The story he told me that stuck in my mind most was this. One day, when he was out hunting in the woods, he heard a cry. It was the sound of a boy, not that much older than you my lad. Following the sound, he found this lad, restrained to a tree crying for his master. He was a servant boy, my lad, who had been punished by his master for not obeying his every command. When Antoine heard his tale of woe, his heart broke in sadness and so used his great strength to help this lad. He wrapped his arms around the tree, a tree that was as wide as he was, and taking several deep breaths summoned every ounce of strength he had and do you know what he did my lad? He lifted that tree, a tree that seemed to stretch to the very heavens, out of the ground and lay it flat. Then, he took hold of the chains that held this lad and ripped them apart as if they were made of wool. As the lad collapsed to the ground with exhaustion he whispered "Thank you, monsieur" before he passed out, but Antoine had not finished yet. Gently picking up the lad, he took him to a family that he knew of who, despite all their efforts, had never managed to have a child of their own and willed that lad to them. They knew the lad well as he was the servant of their landlord and so armed that with that knowledge, Antoine went to the landowner's house. The landowner was not in, but telling all the servants inside to leave, he made his way to the cellars and just like Samson, wrapped his arms around the pillars and brought that house down around him without receiving anything more severe than a very dusty head" Henry opened his eyes wide as the last image played across his mind and as he turned to his grandfather he asked "Did you meet this man, grandfather?" but as Lord Cardigan shook his head he added "No, my lad, but I was honoured to meet his son, a man twice as strong as Porthos, whose tale I will tell you tomorrow!" If anyone wishes to draw that last scene I am more than happy to let them. As a guide it is estimated that Antoine was seven feet tall and weighed around 300 lbs. This means that based on the long standing formula we have (which I wish I could remember the name of the person who posted it) his chest measured sixty inches, his waist measured thirty inches, his biceps twenty four inches, his quads would measure thirty inches, his calves would measure twenty five inches as would his neck, his forearms would measure nineteen inches and as to state of dress that is entirely in the eyes (or in this case, arms) of the beholder.
  13. time-historical

    Part One "What's the matter, lad?" "Grandfather, will I ever be as strong as you are?" "Now, now, Henry, give yourself time. You're just a lad!" As Henry Cardigan, grandson of Lord Cardigan and father of the House of Lords, sank into his grandfather's muscular chest and bawled his eyes out, Lord Cardigan knew the reason for his grandson being so upset. He was by far the smallest member of the Cardigan family, standing a mere four foot six inches tall and aged just eleven, he was always being bullied by the older children at the school he attended on the Westminster estate and this really got Lord Cardigan deep in his heart. After all he was the strongest man in the House of Lords, whenever they had a tug of war with the House of Commoners he was always at the lead. Indeed just last week he had helped the Lords to their sixteenth annual win, a feat that caused the leader of the House of Commoners, Oliver Cromwell, the member for Oxford to say, half jokingly "It's enough to make you want to ban you from attending!" but as Henry's sobs continued, Lord Cardigan decided to try and help his grandson by telling him a story about his days as a Musketeer in France during the reign of Louis XIII when, as part of a secret mission by the former First Minister George Villiers, the Duke of Buckingham, he had met a man who had made him the man he was today. "That man" he said, holding up Henry's head, "was a living Titan. Before I met him I was like you, Henry, but in the ten years I spent in France, he taught me everything he knew about being strong and powerful. If you promise to listen to my stories about him, I will ask you a question when I have finished. Do you understand my lad?" Henry nodded and with that Lord Cardigan began. "He and I got on like a house on fire, Henry" he started, "indeed when I first met him I accidentally challenge him and his friends to a duel, but we soon became best friends and for that first year he was always telling me tales about how big and strong he was. I shall now tell you the first tale he told me, about his grandfather, called Antoine and a feat of strength and power that sealed his legend in the land of his birth!" "What was this man's name?" asked Henry, rubbing his eyes "Porthos" came the reply Prompted by the recent postings about older men who are fairly muscled, I thought it might be interesting to post a story about some of the feats of strength that Porthos, his father and his grandfather got up to as mentioned in the stories by Alexandre Dumas in that context.
  14. I would message him on Facebook and just say "Hello there, I was wondering if I could add you as a friend on Facebook following our chat a few days ago. I don't know that many people from Croatia (is that part of the former Yugoslavia by the way) but am always interested in speaking to people from different countries. If not, then I quite understand, but felt that I should at least ask first before just adding you"
  15. With me it's been a long and slow burn. The first occasion was in 1979 (aged five) when I saw my next door neighbour at the time (a wheelwright) lift a wheel from the ground to place on the axle of a cart. Nothing unusual about that you might think, save that the wheelwright in question had to be in his sixties and the wheel was as big as he was. The second occasion came in 1987 when during a half days teacher's strike, I had gym class. Now, I shall be honest and say that I hated gym class with a vengeance because I was the smallest of my year and therefore was being picked on for it, but you could never dispute my attendance record (helped by living up the hill that school was at the bottom of) and so found myself in the strange position of being the only person reporting for gym class, which presented the teacher with a problem. I admitted that I was hopeless at gym class because of the bullying and didn't know how what to do, when he had an idea and asked me to follow him to an outbuilding where he showed me a multigym not too dissimilar to this Example of the gym in the weights room During what was a very interesting gym class where he explained what each thing did, I couldn't help but notice he was lifting almost the maximum on each station and I admitted that I wouldn't be able to do that much. He said that if I was able to use it with the rest of the class, by the end of the following year I would be halfway to looking like him and with that he took off the gym shirt to reveal a very muscular torso indeed (explaining that he was a rugby player at the same time as a gym teacher). Sadly, the strike was soon resolved and at the next gym class in the gym, all the other boys crowded me out and so I admitted to the teacher that it wasn't possible, but wished him well in his own gym sessions. The most recent occasion was in 2011 when I met Barry from Suffolk (a senior class bodybuilder) who used to be a member on the old board and since then I have met a lot of other bodybuilders online (but only met two in person)