Jump to content

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'posing'.

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • General
    • News
    • Introductions
    • General Discussion
  • Written Works
    • Stories
    • Role Playing
    • Continuous Stories
    • Unfinished Stories
    • Fantasies and Story Ideas
    • Chat & Role-Playing Transcripts
    • Real-Life Muscle Growth Experiences
  • MG's Storiversary
    • Storiversary Story Archive
  • Media
    • General Images
    • Artwork & Morphs
    • Artists Showcase
    • Videos
    • Before & After Transformations
  • Community
    • Personals
    • Chat Buddies
    • Surveys & Polls
    • Advertisements
  • Bodybuilding
    • General
    • Training
    • Muscle & Mind
    • Diet & Nutrition
    • Steroids
    • Watch Me Grow
  • Off Topic
    • Main Off Topic Board
    • News & Current Events
    • Weird / Funny / Interesting
  • Hyper and Impossibly Big Muscle!'s Welcome!
  • Hyper and Impossibly Big Muscle!'s Gallery
  • DC Area Muscle's Discussion
  • Tall Muscle's Discussion & Advice
  • Furry Muscle Club's Club Chat
  • Miembros Hispanohablanes!'s Presentaciones
  • Miembros Hispanohablanes!'s Culturistas buscando sponsor
  • Miembros Hispanohablanes!'s Sponsor buscando culturistas
  • Superstrength and Crushing's Your favorite Superstrength & Crushing Stories
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Dumb Stud Pictures
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Dumbing You
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Meathead Make-Believe
  • Dumbing Down Fraternity's Mutual Muscling
  • South East Asia Muscle Club's Muscle Tales
  • 2D Muscle Artists's Topics
  • Bodybuilding Best Practices's Video Clips
  • Bodybuilding Best Practices's Bodybuilding Websites
  • Bodybuilding Best Practices's Top Tips, Articles and Guides
  • Second Life's Topics
  • Second Life's GYMS
  • New York City Muscle's Member Intro
  • New York City Muscle's Personals
  • Rochester NY Area Lifters's Topics
  • 3D Muscle Club's Topics
  • Vore and Absorption's Topics
  • Vore and Absorption's Stories
  • Drain and Theft's 📰 Topics
  • BOSTON AREA BODYBUILDERS's DATING OPTIONS?
  • BOSTON AREA BODYBUILDERS's GREAT GYMS IN BOSTON AREA
  • BOSTON AREA BODYBUILDERS's SEEKING WORKOUT PARTNERS
  • Seeking Sponsorship's I am looking to be sponsored
  • Seeking Sponsorship's I am a Sponsor

Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

  1. CardiMuscleman

    The Student and the Coach

    Part One "Yeah, come on, coach, you've got this in the bag!" James was not the only one cheering at the small, but powerfully built men on stage in the over 60's class of his local bodybuilding contest, but he was certainly the loudest, and with good reason. His coach, Larry, was almost certain to win his fifth regional title in as many years and as he finished off his routine with a most muscular that defied his size, he smiled, bowed to the audience and strode off back stage where his student picked him up and grunted "You may only be ten stone, but this is how much I want to congratulate you!" As he placed Larry on the ground a few seconds later, Larry just smiled and said "Remember, this time last year you couldn't even pick me up, but I thank you. It's nice to get some positive feedback from a student" and with that they went off to prepare Larry for the presentation. Larry and James really couldn't have been more different if they tried. Larry was 69 years old, had been training since his 14th birthday and although only standing 5ft 2 tall and weighing 138lbs, his 38½ inch chest, 33½ inch waist, 13 inch biceps, 21 inch quads and 14½ inch calves looked hewn from granite. James, on the other hand, was not only ten inches taller, but worlds apart. He weighed 220lbs, but with a 46 inch chest, 45 in waist, 13 inch biceps, 23 inch quads and 14½ inch calves, it was obvious that he had a long way to go to match his coach, but that did not dampen his enthusiasm for his coach and what he lacked in muscle, he more than made up for in cleverness. Indeed, it was his idea to create a social media account for his coach's bodybuilding exploits, accounts which were regularly shared by the stars of bodybuilding although James made quite sure that everyone realised that Larry's muscle development was following the "PHS method" of training which Larry explained as the "Porthos, Hercules and Samson" method of training until he couldn't do anymore and without any drugs whatsoever. That evening as the two drove home, James nursing the trophy like a baby, he looked at it and said "Larry, did you really mean what you said last year when I joined your gym. That in the space of three years I could win one of these myself!" Larry chuckled "Of course I did, I mean look at your progress. Your bench, squat and deadlift have increased exponentially from nothing to 104lbs, 94lbs and 84lbs respectively, you can pick me up for at least thirty seconds when you couldn't managed it before, and might I note that you've become more confident as well" and with that smiled at him. "Yes" smiled James, "my naked posing sessions after we train" and with that added, "I can't help myself, I say. After I train I feel, well, like, like the biggest and strongest man in the world, I want to rip off my posing suit and flex, flex, flex" "Tell you what then" smiled Larry, "special treat this evening. Before I tuck into my post contest ice cream, we'll pose down together, naked, and you can show me what poses I should do for my next guest posing session next weekend, Deal?" "Deal!" nodded James, frantically.
  2. EcchiMultiverse

    Marvelous Man - Chapter 28

    (Apologies. Computer is broken, and my chromebook only works. But it doesn't factor in formatting for some reason. Please go to this link for a better format: https://drive.google.com/open?id=157k72Sd4Vm4ESc4TXvUvLPS_9Zdny0DNi10Kmkp2P-4) Chapter 28: Defined Within Darkness Outside of the sealed ghetto, the grand ballroom conjured by Puzzles began to dissipate. The last invading ghoul stood dazed, as a gold-plated fist crashed into its face. The ghoul exploded into dust upon impact; its damage threshold much lower than Sugar Skull’s. The golden fist then placed itself on the owner’s hip, the cybernetic eight-armed hero, Octomentist. The prosthetic hero stated, “That’s the last of ‘em. So what now?” Director Doug fixed his blue tie, as he approached Octomentist. Pattering behind him with little footsteps was his smoke imp, Puzzles. “We will resume on standby until the team we have sent in have vanquished the Skeleton Lord,” replied the Director. Octomentist frowned, “And how do you suppose they’ll do that? I fought the guy with two of your men that are inside the dome right now. We threw everything at him, and he just kept regenerating back like it was nothing.” Puzzles spoke up with his artificial Russian accent. “That would involve separating the imp inside of the Skeleton Lord. It is heavily assumed that our target is housing a corrupted imp inside of him that is providing such wild power. We kick the imp out of the host, the imp dies. After that, the Skeleton Lord can’t do anything,” he debriefed. Octomentist inquired, “And they’ll be able to do that cause…?” “A spell we entrusted to Marvelous Man. We’re aware that he lacks the proper experience to cast the spell itself, so we gave it to him in the form of a paper talisman. And with our employee, Gemini, giving him the basics of channeling mana, all he has to do is slap it onto the Skeleton Lord and activate it,” answered the smoke imp. The Director spoke up, “And let’s hope he’ll be able to do just that. The containment dome is reaching its limit.” Octomentist pursed her lips together as if in thought. “Yeah, that’s something else I’ve been wondering. You guys have your own Mana Stone, right? Why aren’t you using that to keep the shield stable with all those undead banging against it?” she said. Puzzles adjusted his glasses, “That is a big no. The Mana Stone we have in possession helps power the seals that keep the other terribles from invading our dimension and cage them too.” Director Skye added his perspective to his familiar’s statement. “Plus, it really helps cut down on our utility bills,” he commented. Octomentist sighed, “Wow, okay. I know you guys get the lowest amount of government funding, but I didn’t think it was so bad that you had to use a legendary artifact just to keep the lights on...At least we have the Nemesis Branch to fall back on if the shit really hits the fan.” The sound of a thick structure cracking boomed behind the group. As they turned around, they spotted the dome fractured like an eggshell that sprang from the top. The magical and scientific force field then shattered; revealing a sillouette peeking out of it. The sillouette stood up straight and revealed itself to be a giant skeleton. The skeleton had a human anatomy, and its sized rivaled a skyscrapers. In its skeletal abdomen beneath the ribs sat a large sphere that filled and rested on its pelvis. The sphere was a black ball of swirling darkness; giving off an ominous impression that it was waiting to give birth to something evil. The giant monster’s skull stared up into the sky before it unleashed a horrid scream. The skeletal giant continued to scream for five seconds, while everybody in the vicinity covered their ears. Once it finished, its jaw immediately clamped. The humongous skeleton then snapped its skull towards the city and proceeded forward. The sides of the force field dome shattered upon contact with monster. “It appears it already has and sprayed right into our mouths,” remarked the master witch. He shouted, “ALL NON-COMBATANTS RETREAT! EVERYBODY ELSE PREPARE FOR ENGAGEMENT!!!” The tent behind the group fluttered, as Gemini ran out of the entrance. Staring up at the giant skeleton, his jaw dropped open. The Soulem then took a step back and clutched his hands over his chest. “Justice,” he murmured, “Please be safe.” >>>>>>>> Marvelous Man floated within the darkness he was forcibly pulled into by a giant skeleton arm. The moment he had arrived, he was immediately assaulted by a rain of skeletal fists for over a minute. He held up his muscular arms in an effort to mitigate some of the damage. His vision blurred, as the hulking bodybuilder tumbled through the black miasma but was able to see a few details. He was surrounded by Digz’s whisping essence that was so dense that not even light from the outside could break through it. The space around him seemed to be infinite, as he was flung around but never seemed to reach the end of this dark territory. The musclebound superhero then came to realize that he seemed to be trapped in a sort of pocket dimension made from the condensed essence. There was a spot of bright light within the void, but the muscle demigod had no time to focus with the oncoming bone attacks. “Alden!” said a voice. The barrage of skeleton punches came to a slow for a few seconds before stopping. Marvelous Man then steadied himself with his flight power and looked up. He focused his sight on the glowing spot the musclebound superhero saw earlier. The glow shined with an intensity much similar to Marvelous Man’s supercharges; most likely the supercharged corpse of the Skeleton Lord. The muscle demigod flew closer to the glow and spotted a small silhouette hovering next to it. With nobody else sucked into the essence-filled world, Marvelous Man concluded it could only be Digz. He could hear the incomplete familiar sob. The corrupted imp spoke, “Please...come back to me...I need you…” Marvelous Man immediately realized the opportune chance he had been given. Digz had switched attention from pummeling the muscle demigod to grieving over its master. Now was the perfect time to activate the spell he had been practicing to end the battle once and for all. The spell he received from the Bruja after telling his life story as trade. He channeled mana into his right hand, as Marvelous Man began to enact the next steps needed to properly cast the spell. Extending his right index and middle finger, the muscle demigod rotated his wrist to trace a circle in the air. The mana then followed the motion and created a magic circle that glowed a purple hue. The inside of the circle was completely blank, Marvelous Man proceeded with the next part of the instruction. Marvelous Man remembered back when Gemini instructed him on casting the spell that he needed to get every part of the circle and its layers one-hundred percent correct. If there were any slight inaccuracies upon activation, the least that would happen was nothing. The worst would be a possibly lethal explosion. The hulking bodybuilder made sure to burn the formula into his memory by pretending it was similar to creating an intricate calligraphy; rather than mathematical like Gemini implored to see it as. The musclebound superhero thought with great intensity of the symbols, runic and otherwise, needed to fill the circle’s interior and which specific area they were meant to be placed as well as any additional circles. The magic purple circle seemed to detect Marvelous Man’s focus and materialized the symbols and additional circles that was seen in his head. The spell then flashed to blue; notifying that it was ready to be activated by his mana. Spell at the ready, he slowly crept closer in the black space. The sounds of weeping grew louder, while Marvelous Man held his breath without thinking. The passing seconds were stretched into hours by his tension and fear, but he continued to concentrate maintaining the magical circle he conjured. All that mattered to Marvelous Man was following Gemini’s instruction of touching a physical part of Digz to complete the incantation’s requirements. He then arrived behind the grieving Digz; silently floating unnoticed. The hulking bodybuilder briefly peered over the incomplete familiar’s shoulder and saw it trying to do channel its black essence into the deceased body. The supercharge light that enveloped Alden’s body shone with such intensity that the whisping blackness fizzled into nothingness upon contact. The musclebound superhero was unsure if this was some sort of resuscitation or merging, but there was no time to dwell on it. He needed to act now and end Digz’s miserable existence. Marvelous Man gently reached out with his left hand. Drifting his meaty hand downward, he aimed his appendage at Digz’s feathery left arm. The hulking bodybuilder relaxed his massive body and drew a shallow breath through his nose; preparing his attack. At the same time, he began to channel his mana into his larynx for the oral part of the incantation. Marvelous Man felt his bulky physique primed and launched his plan. Whipping his left arm forward, he grasped the corrupted imp’s feathery arm and simultaneously fed his mana into the spell. The muscle demigod immediately began the incantation. “Iggzel Ponsfortuna! Through the sea of reality, gather the shattered soul. Place back what once belonged and seal into a whole. I beseach the power within the one I mend to reach for salvation. DIVINE SOUL RESTORATION!!!” he chanted. The complex magical circle began to shine; reacting to the incantation and feeding on Marvelous Man’s mana. The black miasma stirred, as a bright light materialized in the form of a star from the center of the magic circle. Marvelous Man then noticed the whisping darkness drifting toward the light in the form of tendrils. This even affected the dark essence leaking from out of Digz’s corrupted body. It was almost as if the magical light was acting as some sort of vacuum; dragging the parts it identified as Digz into a vortex the essence could not escape from. The spell was working! A white pole made of bone shot out from the dark mass and sailed over the incomplete imp. The projectile immediately struck Marvelous Man’s forehead before splintering into bone debris, disintegrating into essence, and then sucked into the magical circle’s light. During the bone’s reabsorption, the muscle demigod’s vision blurred. He nearly lost his focus with maintaining the flow of his mana into the magic circle, but his grip on Digz remained strong. No matter what the incomplete imp threw at him, the musclebound superhero had to hold onto the feathery arm to complete the spell. “Let me go!” exclaimed Digz, “ Let me go right now!” A torrent a bone poles rained down on Marvelous Man from above. His hulking body became racked with immeasurable pain with every projectile exploding into pieces upon impact. But he continued to hold on with every ounce of his will; clenching onto Digz’s arm and keeping the spell alive. The magical circle continued to suck in the miasma despite the ongoing attacks. Marvelous Man knew that at the rate the spell was going, it could take hours before it had absorbed the black world and gathered the missing pieces of the incomplete imp’s soul. The muscle demigod would have to give off as much mana as he possibly could in order to increase the vacuumous power. The hulking bodybuilder gritted his teeth, as he increased the flow of his mana. The bright star residing in the center of the magical circle grew brighter, as the many tendrils began to combine into one swirling whirlpool being drained into the star. It looked like the color-inverted image of a black hole. Marvelous Man then began to feel slightly winded with a growing numbness in his fingertips and toes; the same pins and needles sensation he had experienced from the Skeleton Lord’s mana drain. With the corrupted familiar’s onslaught and the enormous amount of mana the hulking bodybuilder gave off, the toll of these factors had already started to take. His stamina dwindled, but he needed to persevere. Digz shouted, “Let go!” A giant column of bone the size of delivery truck shot up beneath Marvelous Man. The column impacted against the musclebound superhero with the force of a bullet train. With no time to be aware of the oncoming attack, the muscle demigod lost his grip while being forcibly ascended. The black miasma high above him stirred, as another bone column of similar size ejected out of it. The descending column fell with the same intense speed as its rising counterpart that had the hulking bodybuilder splayed on top of it. Spotting the incoming object above himself, Marvelous Man activated his flight power. His massive body slid across the surface of his pushing oppressor. As the upper half of the hulking bodybuilder’s anatomy drifted over the edge, the two bone columns immediately collided with one another at the same time. Within the moment of impact, a thunderous boom reverberated in the miasma pocket dimension. The muscle demigod noticed his body lurching to a halt before continuing forward, as the two columns shattered into smaller pieces. Marvelous Man flew a small distance before stopping. He then looked down at his legs to inspect what ceased his movement for a moment. The musclebound superhero noticed his black boots covered in a layer of white powder with bits of bone debris embedded into the surface. Marvelous Man attempted to wiggle his toes, but he could not feel any sensation whatsoever. The hulking bodybuilder then noticed his right shoulder had a searing pain. Pressing on it with his left hand, he felt the pain explode and a space to where his shoulder joint should have been connected to. Marvelous Man yelped from the pain. There was no time to do a proper diagnosis, but he assessed two things: a dislocated shoulder from the first bone column that interrupted his spell, and fractured toes that most likely had been caught in the collision. Digz had put so much power into the attacks, that it was reaching Gilgamesh’s bone-crushing strength. It seemed to Marvelous Man that the corrupted imp no longer cared about conserving its energy to continue its dying existence. “Stay down and become my battery again! Or I will pummel you until you are completely broken!” shouted Digz, “I don’t know what this is but don’t think I’ll let you use it!” Marvelous Man stared down at the incomplete familiar. The muscle demigod felt confused by the last part he had just heard until he saw it. In front of Digz was the glowing star created from his spell. Though it shined brightly, it seemed to become dimmer with each passing second. Digz attempted to touch it with his feathery left arm, but the star reacted by sizzling the limb. The corrupted imp drew back his arm and hissed at it. Marvelous Man’s eyebrows furrowed. If he could just get back to the star and reactivate the spell while holding onto Digz, it would all work out. The musclebound superhero needed to do this, because of the numbness in his limbs. The numb feelings in his feet and hands had spread up to his elbows and knees; making it clear he only had enough mana to complete the spell he had set in motion. Marvelous Man was not sure if he had the mana to start up the soul restoration spell from the beginning again if the star died before he ever got to it. That star was his last hope of making everything right, and the muscle demigod had only one shot to do it. Using his flight power, he moved onward towards the star. His vision narrowed at the shining objective, and Marvelous Man wished he could have had super speed at this moment. Digz muttered, “So be it, cursed wretch.” Deep in the black void underneath the corrupted familiar, fragments of white bone materialized. The bone shards drifted upward like a stream of leaves carried by the wind. As the white fragments reached Digz, they began to collect above him. The collected shards formed into a cone-shaped roof before they continued downwards at a curved angle. The assembled fragments then took on the shape of an egg, as it encased Alden’s glowing corpse and the incomplete familiar. Once the shell had reached underneath the two, the last of the white shards sealed the bottom of the egg. The egg cracked; echoing like any normal egg that had been rapped against an edged surface. But the cracks on the egg were not random. It seemed as if the cracks moved with purpose; outlining multiple rectangles squeezed together. The patterns and shapes seemed to resemble feathery wings but with a sharper, angled outline. The egg then shuttered for a moment before its shell shifted. The egg shell unraveled itself and revealed underneath the glowing carcass of Alden. The Skeleton Lord’s body appeared to wrapped with his own red cloak from underneath his boney chest down to his feet. His arms were propped up crossed over his chest with elbows tucked underneath the swaddling cloak. It was as if he were posed for a dignified burial, and the casket he laid in was the monster itself. The casket was made from the same white bone material that had formed the egg, and the unraveled parts of the egg that had looked like wings to Marvelous Man were actually wings. The outer casket had three pairs of sharp angel-like wings that extended in every direction. As for the inner casket, it had a two pairs of wings that appeared softer, feather-like, and a smaller size comparable to a swan’s wingspan. Both pairs were layered criss-cross over the other that covered over parts of the glowing, deceased Alden. One pair of the feathery wings covered Alden’s face with only the mouth revealed, while the other covered his feet. In Marvelous Man’s perspective, the creature resembled a creature from the mythological video game he played back in Sunnysville. It had similar features of a type of angel known as a Seraphim. The Seraphim flapped all six of its sharp, outer wings; causing a flurry of its white, angular feathers to eject. The flat feathers flew towards Marvelous Man and began to expand into cylindrical columns the size of rocket missiles. Noticing the transformation, the hulking bodybuilder performed a barrel roll. His massive body moved in corkscrew motion into the storm of columns, while he rotated clockwise. The first row of bone columns flew by the musclebound superhero; nearly grazing him from only a fingertip away. He was not as lucky upon flying midway through the onslaught. The next row managed to hit Marvelous Man. The muscle demigod experienced blunt force trauma firstly on his left pectoral. The impact left a large, blue bruise on his pecmeat and halted his corkscrew maneuver. He was then instantly assaulted simultaneously in three other places: his right knee, the center abdomen, and the right side of his ribcage. His colossal body flung backwards from the tri collision, as the hulking bodybuilder felt cracks vibrate in his body. Marvelous Man coughed up bile before using his flight powers to steady himself and dive beneath the onslaught. He managed to slow down to a stop and float in the upright position, but his mountainous body stood in a crouched manner that strained to resist huddling into a fetal position. The muscle demigod could feel his nerves trying to scream pain into his brain; despite the adrenaline trying to smother it. With the rest of the storm of bone columns sailing over him, the musclebound superhero had a few seconds to register the damage he took. His right leg had a harder time moving, which meant the knee had become dislocated when disregarding the mana-drained numbness. Most likely, a dark bruise had begun appearing on his abs; just like on his left pec. And he had now began drawing painful breathes, so that meant a couple of his ribs on the right side have been fractured...But his left arm still worked. Marvelous Man pushed forward towards the glowing star; aware that he was already halfway there. It did not matter how damaged his bulky body had become, as long as his left hand was intact. He just needed that one hand to hold onto Digz...wherever that corrupted imp was. The musclebound superhero was aware that he needed to grasp Digz’s real body for the spell to work, but he hoped just grabbing part of the Seraphim would be enough. The pillars that had completely missed Marvelous Man immediately shattered into white shards upon Marvelous Man pursuing the star again. The bone shards collected themselves together and snapped into place like a puzzle to reform into a new shape. The bone pieces shaped themselves into a set of creatures that resembled another type of angel, from Marvelous Man’s video game, known as the Putti. The celestial critters consisted of only two things: a head and a pair of angel wings. The feathery wings were smaller compared to the Seraphim’s inner set and seemed comparable to a crow’s wingspan. The white wings were attached to the sides of the head and flapped vigorously. The head itself was a white crow skull with the size of an adult human head and held an abnormal feature on top. The top of its head had a set of three antlers lined up in a row. The antlers were flat and smooth like Saturn’s ring. Its left and right antlers curved in a circular angle, while the center extended straightward. All three antlers managed to interconnect at a certain length that made the antlers look like a sort of angel halo was lodged in the putti’s forehead. The murder of puttis flew towards Marvelous Man and caught up with the musclebound superhero in seconds. They began to peck at him with ferocity while spouting many things at the hulking bodybuilder. Marvelous Man held up his left arm to shield his eyes. “Murderer!” one cawed. Another crowed, “We were just fine! Only us two! You took him away from me!” “DIE. DIE. DIE!!!” screamed a third. A fourth exclaimed, “I’m so alone! Give him back! I want things back the way they were!” “You can’t do anything right,” hissed another, “Your healing killed the only other person we ever loved. Give up!” The puttis continued to harass Marvelous Man, while he flew closer to the star. The pecks never pierced the muscle demigod’s skin, but their words stabbed his heart. He tried to ignore what the puttis said, but some of it felt true to him. As he approached the point of only a quarter distance left before reaching the star, the Seraphim flapped its wings again. The feathers that fluttered from out of the sharp wings floated in the miasma-contaminated air for a second before they exploded into white shards. The bone debris immediately collected itself together and reformatted into a new shape. The end result appeared to be the shape of a wagon wheel. The white wheel had spokes that took on the guise of long avian legs. At the center of the wheel where the spokes met and linked together, all the bird-like legs had avian feet with sharp talons that clenched onto one another. It were as if the legs were holding onto each other for their lives. On the outside of the wheel, there were eyes carved onto every available space of that white rim. Every eye was similar but slightly different due to every eye after it appeared to have its eyelid creep to a closed blink before eventually opening up again. Each of the eyes were incredibly detailed to the point of them appearing to be alive despite the lack of color. The wheel began to rotate on its own; quickly accelerating to a ferocious spin. The eyes seemed to actually come to life through the rotation. It was like a filmstrip moving fast enough for a picture to be perceived as moving. No matter from which section of the wheel one stared at, the eye would be seen as coming to life by blinking and staring back at the observer. The wheel then sped off towards Marvelous Man. The musclebound superhero was unable to see the oncoming enemy, as he was still being harrassed by the puttis. Reaching Marvelous Man in seconds, the white wheel zipped underneath the hulking bodybuilder before its trajectory led into a collision with him. The multi-eyed wheel then shot directly up and tackled itself into Marvelous Man’s bruised stomach. Marvelous Man’s massive body lurched into a halt, as he was hoisted on top of a spinning wheel. The air escaped from Marvelous Man, and pain from the attack on his bruise shocked his brain into momentary paralysis. The bone wheel did not falter in movement during its attack; its rotation continuing at the same furious speed before impact. The pain of the intense grinding felt like sandpaper scratched against his skin by the most powerful sander power tool in the world. It grinded into the muscle demigod for a few seconds before it began movement again. The wheel moved backwards; going up Marvelous Man’s meaty torso and over his face. Without anymore body parts to roll over, the white wheel flew away. Marvelous Man clutched his sides; nearly huddling into a ball over his reddened, abraised abdomen. The spinning wheel then changed its direction and looped itself back toward the muscle demigod. Hearing a whirring noise, Marvelous Man looked up in time to see the wheel coming right at him. The musclebound superhero quickly raised his left arm to block the incoming attack at just the right moment. The bone wheel collided into Marvelous Man’s golden bracelet; sparks flying from the wheel’s savage grinding against the unyielding jewelry. With his super strength strong enough to keep the monster temporarily at bay, Marvelous Man stared at his enemy. He could see the eyes carved onto the wheel’s outer rim blinking and gazing right back at him. His eyebrows furrowed at the white wheel. The monster had features similar to another type of angel he had seen in his mythological video game, a Throne. Thankfully, this celestial creature did not carry the expected characteristic of his usually has, which is being on fire. Marvelous Man was aware that his body was not in a healthy enough condition to engage in any sort of combat with the Throne nor the puttis. Only his left arm was of fighting-capable status, but it was set to only defend. Trying to use his golden laurel to fight would leave the musclebound superhero open long enough for any attack from his multiple enemies. As he continued staring at the Throne, he noticed the angel’s rotation. Acting quickly, the muscle demigod leaned forward. Marvelous Man positioned his beefy body to lie flat in the air, while he took in a deep breath to ready for what he was about to do next. In one single motion, the musclebound superhero bent his head down, lowered his blocking left arm, and used his flying power to push forward. Now nothing held back the angelic wheel. The white Throne immediately trampled over the hulking bodybuilder, but the damage done to Marvelous Man was minimal. At the same time the Throne used the muscle demigod as an improvised roadway, Marvelous Man moved underneath the bone wheel. The musclebound superhero rode with the Throne’s rapid downward rotation to passively bypass the wheel and launch himself towards the dimming star faster than he could usually fly. The distance between the muscle demigod and the star drastically warped; no longer feeling like a crawl but more of a leap towards his illuminated objective. Marvelous Man held out his left hand openly in a readying attempt to grasp part of the Seraphim. Once he landed next to the star, the musclebound superhero would have to hold on with all his might. He then charged his voice box with mana and began to recite the spell’s incantation to activate the magic upon physical contact with the Seraphim. And even though his right shoulder was dislocated, his could still move his fingers. The muscle demigod gestured the magic circle and focused on the symbols for the spell. He was not sure if he had to do those parts again, but it was better to be safe than sorry. The feathers of the Seraphim’s outer wings wiggled for a moment before it stretched out and curved towards Marvelous Man at wicked speeds. At the ends of the extending feathers, its flat, sharp edges began to bulge and morph into the shape of a clenched fist. The musclebound superhero’s focus narrowed only on the dimming star; incapable of seeing the Seraphim’s attack. Marvelous Man chanted, “Iggzel Ponsfortuna! Through the sea of reali-AUCK-!!!” One of the fists from the stretched feathers punched Marvelous Man’s throat; ceasing the incantation. The magical circle hovering above his right hand instantly disappeared, as his concentration was destroyed. Hundreds more fist-shaped feathers launched at the muscle demigod like streams of missiles. No matter which direction a couple of fists sent him flying, another flurry would follow the musclebound superhero with incredible speed and barrage him into another direction. After each feather made its punch, it would retreat back into the sharp wings before launching again. Marvelous Man tried to defend with his working left hand, but it would be easily parried away by the onslaught of punches. Even if he managed to, he simply could not block every fist that assaulted every part his humongous body. As the hulking bodybuilder was flung back to near out of range from the Seraphim’s attack, the Throne appeared from behind Marvelous Man and momentarily grinded its wheel into his back. Not giving the muscle demigod a chance to scream, the Throne then immediately pushed the muscle demigod back into the frey of fists waiting to barrage him. The feathers from the sharp outer wings launched their fist-shaped ends at Marvelous Man and began their torrent of violence at him again. Damaged, dizzy, and struggling to breathe, the hulking bodybuilder had no more strength in him to lift his meaty left arm or even curl up into a ball. The musclebound superhero was flung about like a ragdoll, while blood dripped from his mouth and nostrils. His enemies seemed to sense their victory over the muscle demigod, as the Throne did not bother to toss Marvelous Man back at the Seraphim once he was thrown out of range of the white fists. He drifted further away, and his vision and mind soon stabilized in seconds. Marvelous Man saw the star in front of the Seraphim flicker...and then fizzle...and finally die; dissolving back into Digz’s essence. That was it...nothing more he could do to save the corrupted imp. Not enough mana to create a new spell and push it towards completion. And from the feel of his throat, his windpipe had been bruised to a point that uttering a few words would become a struggle. Verbal incantation to activate the spell would be impossible. Taking it all into account, his personal mission had become a complete failure. Marvelous Man could feel a blackness growing in him; a pit that wanted to suck him in and his will to fight. The musclebound superhero tried to focus on the backup plan he hoped he would never have to do. He would have to kill Digz. Physical confrontation is no longer possible, since the muscle demigod allowed himself to be bashed into a bruised and broken matter from trying to heal Digz. Using the talisman the D.A.B. provided him would be useless to use at this moment. That left one of his two last options for neutralizing the incomplete imp. The hulking bodybuilder slowly lifted his heavy left arm, while his mind thought back to his first encounter with the Skeleton Lord. His twitching hand reached into his black jacket’s pocket and pulled out his golden harmonica, Duskbell. The muscle demigod’s illumination ability was bright enough to disperse the black essence, but it had a limited range. Marvelous Man remembered that limit when he had tried to illuminate the graveyard ground and failed, and it was unquestionable that this pocket dimension exceeded that range...Unless if he were to supercharge the light. When Marvelous Man supercharged the graveyard ground, the light it gave off had a greater intensity than his usual illumination to cause the whisping miasma and its solid forms to completely dissipate. The supercharge also had the perk of unlimited range. If he were to supercharge the blackness swirling in this pocket dimension, it would undoubtedly be destroyed. Digz needed that essence to remain in his barely physical form. If it was no longer available, the corrupted imp would have to merge back into Alden’s body in order to survive. But the Skeleton Lord’s corpse had become supercharged by Marvelous Man’s power which denied the Digz’s whisping blackness from entering. So there was now a higher chance the corrupted imp would not be able to go back into the dead body after ejecting out of it. With both crucial elements for survival disabled, the incomplete familiar would be like a flame suffocated by a candle snuffer. Marvelous Man’s trembling arm brought the golden harmonica up to his face and began to rightfully position the keyholes towards his mouth with his meaty fingers. Since his hand was completely completely numb from the amount of mana he had used, he had to be careful with his finger movements. One wrong manipulation of his thick digits would cause Duskbell to tumble out of his grasp and become lost in the world of darkness. Seconds had past in the silent blackness until he finally maneuvered his golden instrument into facing the correct direction. The muscle demigod brought Duskbell to his lips. A small white figure swooped in front of Marvelous Man’s eyes and collided into his hand. The golden harmonica was knocked out of his left hand and fell into the whisping essence beneath, while the white object moved unhindered at the quick impact. Flicking his eyesight from the lost Duskbell and up at his attacker, Marvelous Man noticed that the creature was Digz’s putti. “No! None of that!” it cawed. The putti’s ascent came to a stop, as it joined a murder of its kind. The puttis flew in a circle like vultures; staring down at their prey and waiting for the time to attack. Marvelous Man realized that was probably why they did not bother attacking when he was locked in combat with the Seraphim. The creatures were there to pick away at and disable whatever tricks the musclebound superhero had left. The black pit within the muscle demigod’s heart grew bigger. It swirled at the tips of his toes; inviting his soul to fall in. Marvelous Man tried to brainstorm on the other ways to activate a supercharge. His bruised windpipe was incapable of singing, and there was not a single artistic thing he could with his left that did not require materials that were not presently available. In the next couple of hours, his body would regenerate for a second wind of supercharging the black miasma...But what of the outer world then? There was no telling the destruction that was currently happening at this moment. The ghouls from Limbo could have broken out of the dome within the hours he spent recovering in this pocket dimension, and Digz might be rampaging on the outside at the same time inside against Marvelous Man. So then...what could he do? Marvelous Man realized he only had one other last option he was able to do in his state. He would have to activate his Soul Venom and unleash it on the incomplete familiar. There must have been some wound or culmination of smaller wounds Digz endured before it became the corrupted imp it currently is. The musclebound superhero could only hope that after killing Digz, he would pass out from exhaustion and hurt nobody else. He could never forgive himself if the Soul Venom, that would taint his soul, caused him to stay awake and rampage against the rest of the world. Letting all their past wounds consume them like he attempted with his parents...and nearly succeeded. Tears began to well up in his eyes at the futility of his situation. In his mind, he saw himself at the black pit again. He leaned forward and fell. The despair was so crushing; greater than the physical pain he currently and recently experienced. No matter what he did, the moment he refused to do what was expected of him and follow his own selfish pursuits, it always resulted in failure. He should’ve followed Director Doug and Puzzle’s plan of killing Digz and the Skeleton Lord rather than saving them. And the result of doing so caused Alden to die and Digz to follow soon after. It was inevitable no matter how much he tried to prevent such a sad end. Just what was the point of his power? It’s supposed to heal. But the moment it was truly needed, it killed the one Marvelous Man tried to save. Some hero he was. So powerful, but so incapable of doing anything. A Rank-D hero from the start that could only act as support. Every time he tried to do something on his own, it always resulted in failure...It would have been better if he listened to his parents and just stayed inside Sunnysville...But that’s just it, isn’t it? He will always make the wrong decisions and hurt those around him. His own existence is complete poison! His own enemies were right. It was better that things always stayed the same. If he did not live in this world, things would have gone better. Justice would have suffocated emotionally in Sunnysville, but he would have somewhat been happy. There has been nothing but pain since becoming Marvelous Man and leaving that town. “Now’s not the time to be lying down, hero! You still draw breath. Get up! Fulfill my dying request!” said a manly voice. The descent into the dark pit jerked to a halt, as Marvelous Man’s eyes flicked to the voice he heard. It was King Alden! He no longer appeared skin and bone with misery hanging on his face. He looked like the painting the hulking bodybuilder saw in Digz’s past. The king was decorated in all of his royal accessories, and his body had a slight plumpness with bright peach skin. The royal highness was literally glowing and seemed slightly transparent. The putti above them spoke up, “Alden?!” “It can’t be! You’re dead! We have your body!” said another. Alden became distracted by the voices and peered up. The muscle demigod croaked, “Wha-...How?” Alden looked down and smiled. “I know not the forces, whether it be you or a higher power. But I was pulled back here during my descent,” he replied. Marvelous Man was not sure, but he supposed it could have been the soul restoration spell. It was supposed to gather the pieces of soul bestowed to Digz that was lost eons ago. Since the the corrupted imp and Alden had been fused for so long, their souls might have become related to one another. But the muscle demigod was unsure of that hypothesis, because he is not a practitioner nor knowledgeable about magic. Were it not for the situation he was currently in, Marvelous Man would have freaked out from seeing an actual ghost. Alden roused, “Now, get up. You said you would heal Digz, and I have yet to see that.” Marvelous Man swallowed. The pain in his throat felt like it was burning, but he gathered the strength to utter words in his now raspy voice. “I can’t...Too broken...and I hurt all over,” he replied. The king sighed, “Why are you still pretending to be a star child? I know you are more than capable to put yourself back together from such simple flesh wounds. I’ve felt the power you hold!” The muscle demigod felt confused by such a statement. Did Alden think he was just lying around and not being powerful for the fun of it? “Even if I could...what good would it do? I’ll just...keep fucking it up...I’m a fatherfucking mess. I can’t do anything right. I couldn’t even...heal you,” he sobbed. The royal highness exclaimed, “But you did! And so much more! You helped me let go! I came to the realization that in letting Digz enable my sadness, I enabled his madness. Digz might have been the one to kill my family like you said, but...He is still precious to me! I don’t want him to be in pain!” “Do you remember what you said to me? You said you wanted to inspire me, and that is what you did! You are so much mightier than you think you are!” he continued. The musclebound superhero felt an emotion stir in him. It was the same one he felt when stop the Skeleton Lord before the confrontation with Gene Lightfoot. The emotion that felt like his true self contained within the dam of his heart. But it was very weak, and the agonizing doubt had towered over it and had already begun to devour it. Marvelous Man fretted, “But...even with the power that you said...I still had to get my friend’s help to defeat you. I couldn’t do anything big. I’m still too weak…” “Then learn from this and remember what you’ve experienced! Know what it truly means to be utterly helpless and refuse to remain that way! There is no shame in relying on your friends for help with the bigger things. But if you wish to move onward and be capable of fighting battles by yourself, then take the opportunities of this world and make it your own! It is foolish and naive to expect to become powerful without effort or have the world stoop to your level!” Alden raved. He continued rambling, “When I first pacted with Digz, he was only capable of moving corpses. And now look! He’s able to create creatures from his own imaginations! Though I must say, he’s always had an obsession with angels. I suppose it came from the time he spent with his original master.” “What?” said Marvelous Man. Alden lectured, “Just remember that you must accept the responsibilities of making the choice to become stronger and anything else you have done in your life. The changes you make will no doubt become hard and even unbearable at times. And even if it’s a change caused by the fates themselves, accept the consequences for what they are and make it your own! “The only time when you have truly errored in your ways is if you do not do anything and struggle to keep things the way they are! Good or bad, you are your own agent of chaos. And you have helped me realize that! Accept the reality of what you have done and learn from it!” he babbled with passion. Marvelous Man felt enraptured by the king’s words. Somehow, it was the words he had always needed to hear. Always remember the past but never try to stay complacent within it. Choose the path you know and feel is right but be ready to deal with the outcome. FIGHT THE STATUS QUO AND BECOME SOMETHING MARVELOUS!!! The dam in his heart that tried to contain his true emotion began to leak through the cracks once again. It was barely able to contain this geiser of a feeling. He felt like his heart and his body was about to burst. The word of this emotion was at the edge of his tongue, and it felt like it was from something even the royal highness had just said. “Look!” pointed Alden, “Look at your hand!” From the corner of his eye, the muscle demigod noticed a glow. Marvelous Man lifted his left hand up and gazed at it. The same glow from earlier that slightly whisped like his Soul Venom, but also contained some of the warm light from his supercharge, radiated from his hand. The trail of mysterious ray looked like an aurora and left behind a multitude of colors. It began to travel downward of his arm, but then Marvelous Man noticed something peculiar tied to his wrist. “Such a beautiful light,” added the king. The hulking bodybuilder brought his meaty wrist closer to his eyes for a better inspection. It was a glass string that neither felt tight or loose, but...just there. It was so transparent that it was nearly invisible, yet it had a shine that was noticeable to the muscle demigod. Marvelous Man curled his fingers towards it for a curious touch. Upon contact, that felt like grazing another person’s fingertips, a shard of what seemed to be glass materialized in his hands. He rasped, “Wh-what is this? Glass?” “Glass? I only see light, Marvelous Man! Embrace it!” cheered Alden. As much as Marvelous Man wanted to question the royal highness’ perspective, it felt more important to do as Alden said. He stared into the shard, and it responded by lighting up like the bright screen of a smartphone. The shard began playing a film, but it only seemed to last a second before the reality around Marvelous Man warped. The musclebound superhero felt as if he were being transported to the scene shown on the glass. Marvelous Man stood in the abandoned subway where the homeless community was slaughtered and served as the second encounter with the Skeleton Lord. The hulking bodybuilder just somehow knew this was when the ancient villain retreated from the battle. But instead of stationed in the center like last time, he was placed to the right of the passageway the Skeleton Lord exited into. He stared into the opening where the battle was fought and spotted himself floating beside his teammates at the time, Gene and Octomentist, and staring back at him. The past Marvelous Man shouted, “Wait! Why are you doing all this? What’s the point of doing all these terrible things?!” The current Marvelous Man looked towards his left and found the Skeleton Lord ebbed away into a veil of invisibility. For some reason, Marvelous Man could still see the supervillain. The musclebound superhero then noticed a glass string protruding from the red cloak and extending all the way down to his past self. Somehow, Marvelous Man knew that this was the moment a seed had been planted in the ancient evil. The seed, a passing thought, said, “What was the point of doing all this?” The muscle demigod then heard Digz within the Skeleton Lord whisper the answer, while the supervillain repeated it. “When one has the power of a god and their purpose has turned to ash, the only thing one can do is burn the world itself,” said the Skeleton Lord. The vision within the past had ended, and Marvelous Man was back floating in the miasma-infested pocket dimension. He released the glass shard from his hand; causing it to float up. Looking back at the glass string, he now noticed that it stretched and tethered to Alden’s spirit. The pressure of the geisere in his heart intensified. In Marvelous Man’s perspective, that was the first time he had affected a change within Alden. It might have been small, but it was the start that led the ancient king to give up his evil ways and cease living. Marvelous Man then noticed another glass string tied to his forearm, as the aurora continued traveling down his muscled arm. His eyes followed the string, but it seemed to have extended somewhere outside of this pocket dimension. Out of instinct, he accepted the new string with his heart instead of his eyes. This caused an echo of a voice to appear in his mind. Aphrodite echoed, "Yes, but I love you on a greater level than everybody else. A mother's love is powerful, and you will always be my baby." That was the moment Justice changed his mind about how he felt about his parents after learning the purpose of his birth. If his mother never said that back in Sunnysville, the hulking bodybuilder would probably have begun to really hate his parents. The feeling in his heart grew stronger; the geiser still pushing but needed to hear more. Looking up, he noticed a glass string tied to his pinkie. The muscle demigod allowed the string into his heart; excitement slowly building up in him for the surprise of either good or bad. “Feel better?” echoed Marvelous Man. Gene echoed back, “Very much so. Thank you.” That was the first time Marvelous Man awakened to infatuation. After the first fight with the Skeleton Lord, the musclebound superhero would join the D.A.B. for the sake of befriending Gene. He would then grow that infatuation into love for the Totochtin prince. Marvelous Man then noticed another glass string tied to his elbow, as the wavy light on his arm continued over his bulbous bicep. He accepted the string with his heart and listened for the voice. Gene echoed, “It would not be right to you nor me. Perhaps if we kept doing the dating it could turn out exactly how you wanted. But such a thing would only result in hurting us in the end. That is the time that is wasted for trying to grow something that cannot grow. I am sorry Marvelous Man, but I cannot force myself to be the something that I am not.” Marvelous Man could never forget that event. Gene had become realistic about their situation, and it caused the muscle demigod to realize his misunderstandings of what love is. It was painful and eye-opening, but he gained a friend in the end. Their bond with each other was so strong, that the rabbit demigod gave up the vendetta against the Skeleton Lord to avoid fighting Marvelous Man. The eagerness to hear more overwhelmed him more than the uncertainty of his situation. He wondered for a moment on the possibility of hearing more than just simply looking for the strings and closed his eyes. Relaxing his body, Marvelous Man focused his mind on the strings. He at first could feel the ones he had already saw attached to his left arm, but then sensation of the glass strings expanded. The muscle demigod felt glass strings tied to nearly every part of his body that seemed to entwine naturally onto him rather than a forced, uncomfortable bondage. He could practically picture the whole scenery in his mind. In a confused sense, it seem to Marvelous Man that his body served as the source and a receiver for something. The strings he saw in his head felt real, and he tried to embrace it as real...And that’s when a torrent of voices echoed in his mind like a shout in an empty chamber. It was the voices from his past; his friends, family, enemies, and even himself. He could hear each and every one, and they all exchanged conversation that was meant for him or others. Some were encouraging, others insightful, and there were also those that were hurtful. In Marvelous Man’s perspective, it was almost like hearing a song. And at the end of this emotional song, he heard the voice of the one he truly cared for summarizing what he heard. “My point is, your very existence makes all the difference and don’t you forget it. The positive things you provoke in people may be small compared to what you expected, but it all carries the same weight. Even if it’s as small as being their friend or even getting someone to try a new thing. And superhero or not, your existence inspires change in the people around you,” echoed Gemini. Marvelous Man’s heart exploded; the emotional geiser pouring out and flowing throughout his entire being. The aurora light immediately coursed over the rest of his massive body and then merged, as he came upon a realization. His entire anatomy was outlined in illumination that shared the same color as the aurora. Opening his eyes, tears streamed from them nonstop while gazing at the spectacle before himself. The musclebound superhero could see glass strings tied not just to himself and stretching outward, but also to Alden’s spirit and even the Seraphim! He could see the glass strings connecting towards all three beings in the pocket dimension and beyond the whisping essence like some sort of cosmic web. It was like gazing at a piece of abstract art that was infinite, beautiful, and maddening. His immense body began to radiate its own auroras that streamed upward and seemed to curl like the brushstrokes of the Starry Night painting by Vincent van Gogh. Marvelous Man’s physical wounds immediately responded to the illumination. Dislocated limbs were set back into to place, fractured bones sealed back up to their original state, and bruised skin became a smooth, healthy brown. The hulking bodybuilder felt every damaged piece moving around inside of him, but it was not painful. He briefly wondered if this was what Sugar Skull experienced when supercharged. It all made sense now. This feeling that he now experienced was his true self. The celestial element that was unique only to him. His mother, friends, and even Marvelous Man himself had been saying what he had been all along. The seed to love, art, and passion: Inspiration. Marvelous Man instantly understood that the glass strings he could see were also physical manifestations of inspiration, and it gave him a greater understanding of his celestial element. Inspiration is more than just changing or improving. It is the culmination of pain and bliss that act as fuel for the spark of new ideas and perspectives. But most of all, inspiration is the gift from existing. No matter how small or big the differences one made in the other’s life, they all carried equal value. Every life matters; regardless of one’s own perspective of self-worth or even someone else’s opinion about yourself. You are important to my existence. We are all connected, and that is the true art of life. The hulking bodybuilder situated upright, as Alden stared with marvel in his eyes. A smile broke out on the ancient king’s face. He exclaimed, “I knew it to be true! Tell me, what sort of god are you? Pray tell, what do you preside over?” Marvelous Man stared down at his hands; watching the colored, illuminated outlines radiate tiny auroras. Droplets of his never-ending tears pattered onto his wrists and palms, as he realized his throat had been healed and could answer the question. The musclebound superhero felt his voice both bellow like thunder and whisper like a calm river. “Inspiration,” he stated, “That is my celestial element.” Marvelous Man continued, “I finally understand what you mean, and what everybody else have been saying. The ideas and thoughts I am having...it’s overwhelming both my mind and soul. So many infinite possibilities of good and evil that this element can cause. No matter where I look, I see beauty from this collage of chaos. And...I just want to do so much art to supercharge others! To fill them with inspiration to do something marvelous with their lives or even plant a seed in them to try something different!” The Inspiration God’s eyes went wide. “Oh my gosh, is that what I’ve been doing this entire time when I supercharge my friends?! I’m literally energizing them with my essence when I do something artsy or inspirational or whatever! I wonder if I can do it by just flexing my muscles? Can that affect me too and put me in this...super soul form or god form or whatever?” he rambled. One of the puttis crowed, “Impossible! Impossible, impossible, impossible!” “Stay broken! No more of that flashy stuff!” raved another. The king flicked his eyes above him and stared at the murder of puttis circling above the two. He then looked over to the Throne and Seraphim floating in anticipation before he turned back toward Marvelous Man and tried to speak gently. Alden interrupted, “Great deity, I know you’ve just had an incredible breakthrough, but I beseech you to please turn your attention to my imp. He needs your healing, please.” Marvelous Man looked up and turned to the spirit. His eyebrows then raised, as he remembered what he needed to do. The Inspiration God realized that without a goal or something to express himself with, he would be caught up in his many thoughts or spectate in wonder at the glass strings. The hulking bodybuilder switched his weeping gaze to the other bone angels and furrowed his brows. He then struck an exaggerated fighting pose. “Sorry! You’re right! I got lost in my thoughts,” said Marvelous Man, “Don’t worry, I’ll get it right this time! Any chance you could give me a boost?” Alden stroked his chin, “Let me see…I think I might still have some influence over his essence.” Waving his spirit arms in a wide, circular motion, the whisping blackness drifted over to his arms. The dark essence followed the motion of his arms and began to materialize into bone. As Alden finished his motion, the white bone had formed into a large, flat disk. “Here! Quickly make use of this! I fear you will have only one chance to make use of my assist, as I feel my being drifting back to where I am to be damned!” he exclaimed. Marvelous Man looked behind and noticed the disk. He then used his flight powers to perform a backflip and landed on top of the disk. The ancient king placed his palms on the back of the disk and aimed the Inspiration God at the white Seraphim. Alden thrusted, “Now, fly.”
  3. Links to other chapters: Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 M/M "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 24 - Further Encounters 5: Sam and Casey Again, and Moster and the Cadets Chapter 23 Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, And Makes a New Friend February 10th, 2022 2110 Hours Casey knew he could trust Ensign Victor. Sam was, after all, a muscle worshipper. And Casey was close to the best there was. Casey had long dreamed of his very own muscle worshipper. The legend that bodybuilders are aloof and don’t want to be worshipped? Bullshit. Bodybuilders wanted their very own private worshippers just as much as muscle schmoes wanted bodybuilders. If Casey knew anything at all, he knew that. He’d learned it in LA. And now he was going to tell Sam all about it. And then tell Sam that he knew just exactly what he was. And Sam, of course, was all ears, all solicitation and comfort. Even as he felt his own excitement growing. He felt his cock, too, burgeoning in his trousers, until he didn’t think he could stand it much more. But of course, he’d have to stand it. At least until Casey was finished talking. And so, Sam listened. Patiently, as it happened. And Casey talked and talked. As Sam’s cock got stiffer and stiffer. “So talk about something else. Do you have friends?” “Well. The guys from the cadet dorm, I guess. But I don’t see them anymore. Guess I don’t get out as much as I’d like.” “No friends outside the compound?” “Naw.” “Are the men of The Twenty your friends?” “Well, I’m one of them….” Casey seemed uncomfortable, so Sam moved on. “Family?” Casey looked down, then looked back at Sam. “The Twenty are my family,” he said after a moment. He paused. ‘Guess we seem to be some kind of crazy cult, hunh?” “Kind of, yes.” Casey seemed to want to ask something. Sam half smiled, waiting. Finally he prompted. “Yes?” Casey was clearly embarrassed, but Sam could see determination in his eyes. “It’ll wait. What else?” “Well, how strong are you?” “Pretty strong. Maybe a little stronger than the others. I can bench 800 pounds. Easy. Curl 350. I run really, really fast, too. Oh, and I’m a good diver. I don’t know how that happened, but I am. I can do anything on a diving board. Don’t even think about it. And I look awesome in a Speedo. But I’m not as strong as Moster. Or Abdul. No one is. They could snap me in two.” Casey didn’t mention the Turkish wrestling night when they got covered in oil and he beat Karim Abdul. No sense in scaring Sam by acknowledging that maybe, yeah, just maybe, he was the strongest man there – and just 19. “I don’t believe that.” “Well, maybe not in two. But he could fuck me up pretty good if he wanted to. He’s an extreme fighter.” “I thought you were, too.” “Well, yeah…. .” “You got thrown out of school for fighting.” “Only once. I only fought once,” he said. “Some guy pissed you off?” Casey smiled. “18 guys pissed me off.” “Wow.” “Yeah, wow. I got ‘em all good, though.” “One after the other?” “All at once.” Casey grinned cockily. “I beat the shit out of all of them.” “Why?” “I got tired of them making fun of me.” “They made fun of you? Sounds dangerous.” “I wasn’t as big then.” “No, of course not. Why were they making fun of you?” Casey looked hard at Sam, and bit his lip. Then he shrugged his shoulders as if determined. He stood up, towering over the table. Sam watched him evenly. Casey reached down and unzipped the steel fly of his pants. He reached his hand in and pulled out his enormous, limp cock. He squatted so that his hips were even with the tabletop. It flopped heavily and noisily on the surface. Thwack. "…. And, boom… there it is,” said Casey. “There it is.” He looked up, shrugged and smiled shyly. “Yes, there it is.” “See, it’s really, really big.” Sam took in the tool’s impossible size for a moment, and whistled. “Yes, I see that. Nice,” he said sweetly. “It’s very big.” “It’s huge,” said Casey, with a sweet blend of sadness and pride. “It’s more than a 15 inches long. It’s like a fucking snake with a life of it’s own. I get hard all the time. I could never hide it in anything I wore. The kids at the home used to laugh at me, call me freak.” “They were jealous, no doubt.” “Probably, yeah, maybe, but fuck. But I got so sick of it.” He started to stuff it back into his jeans. “So one night, I beat them all up.” Sam reached out and lightly touched Casey’s hand. “It’s okay. Keep it out.” Casey looked up, hopefully. “You like it?” “I do.” Casey looked hard at him. He was suddenly shy. He wanted to tell Sam about the field trips for worship, and there was a lot more to tell, too. But he wasn’t certain how it would sound. Sam wanted to help him. “Was there a first time you were worshipped by ‘investors’? By a group of men you didn’t know before?” “Yeah…” “For money?” Pause. “Uh hunh.” Casey was clearly now afraid Sam would judge him. “A lot of money?” Casey didn’t quite know how to tell him exactly how much. “I’m not a prostitute.” “No, I know that. You’re not,” said Sam, looking pensively at Casey’s huge penis extending out of his open fly, lying quietly on the tabletop. “What you are is an uncommonly huge, sexual, handsome 19-year old bodybuilder with a need to show … what you have.” Casey looked at him gratefully. Now he knew he was falling in love with the calm young Navy officer. But even here, in the relative safety of his quarters at Valhalla Labs, and with the gym and training rooms and all the other men so close by, and especially after that wacky muscleshow earlier in the evening to the military brass, the sweet-natured muscle giant was suddenly seized with nervousness. But Sam seemed okay with it. And, indeed, he was. “And…how was it? The first time you were worshipped by strangers?” “Okay. I guess it was okay.” He paused, and his eyes flickered a bit. With excitement, at the memory. “Who were they?” “Some Hollywood dudes.” Sam suddenly recalled. Was that last year in LA the night that…? Oh, God! YES. It was briefly in the TMZ reports late last year, the latest conservative blast against the Hollywood Liberal Elite, some big party night that went south and required some hospitalizations and a lot of huge money. And then – silence on it. All stories withdrawn. No word on it. He’d googled it a few times. Nothing. But Casey remembered. In fact, it was incredible – all those fat old rich men schmoes, and then his new friend Mike later on privately swooning, licking his pecs and swooning over his big biceps and with his sweet little face in his hard butt and then closely inspecting with awe his mighty machine…. But he wasn’t quite sure about how all this would sound to Sam. There was a pause. Sam gazed at the muscle monster boy evenly a moment. “You can tell me all about it. I’m not here to judge.” Casey remembered the night. And his new friend, Mike. “I wonder how I’m gonna tell Sam about Mike?” he worried to himself. After a brief pause, Casey made his decision, and manfully, went on with his story. December 5th, 2021 Los Angeles: 2100 Hours The bus pulled up the drive at 9 PM, the first stop of the evening. It was a large cliff side home high in the Hollywood Hills, lavish and dark, with a glimmering Olympic-sized pool in the back and fountains quietly spraying gallons of illegal water. Beyond and far below, the glittering lights of LA shone in the far distance. Zaftig’s longtime off campus associate, the puny weasel Dr. Shaft, would be waiting inside, in attendance with a group of 9 investors, all quite anxious to see the young gods in action. The bodybuilders filed off the bus in the dark. “Golly, who lives here?” asked Hension, awestruck by the size of the house. “Some Hollywood dude movie producer,” muttered Lang. “Who cares? Time to FLEX.” Casey barely noticed. He was eager, for soon he’d be headed back to his private muscle planet, the place he first visited on the morning his cadet buddies came to say goodbye and stayed a little to admire his muscles. He was all ready to flex for these dudes. He neither knew nor cared who they were. Sergeant Moster, who had gotten off the bus first, quietly barked orders in the large circular drive. Moster, who had gotten off the bus first, quietly barked orders in the large circular drive. “Inspection. Strip down, men,” he commanded. “I don’t want to keep our hosts waiting.” The ten musclemen hopped and danced in the half light, removing slacks, baggies, t-shirts, jeans, shorts, underwear, jock straps, thongs, and boots as poor long-suffering Dr. Irving ran from man to man, frantically gathering up discarded clothing, quickly organizing as to owner, and distributing the proper poser to the proper man. Each poser was personally assigned, custom-tailored to cut across inches south of the lower abs, reveal generous slices of meaty glutes in back, and with frontal sag sufficient to generously reveal the top six inches of root and thick, plunging shaft of each man. The side straps, while thin, were sufficiently strong to hold even at top erection. “Oil up, men.” Bottles of mineral oil were passed around, and the men dutifully applied slathers of oil to their muscles. Finally they were ready, their muscles gleaming in the night. “Line up, squad,” said Moster. “Adjust your posers. When you pull your pants down, I want these dudes to see your top six inches of root and cockshaft.” He had stripped down himself and was now rubbing his own oil in to his mountainous black muscles. “I know with some of you that still leaves another 6 inches or more covered up. Right, Casey?” “More,” said Casey. Still, in the dark Casey turned deep red, still immediately shamed by the thoughts of his huge, unhideable cock. He still wasn’t quite over those years of taunting. Which always flashed his thoughts quickly to Tiffany. Good thing the ginger-haired terror wasn’t with them tonight. Casey always performed better when that boy was nowhere near. “Waring, get over here and do my back.” Waring went to Moster, dutifully pouring oil onto his calloused palms, mixing them back and forth as if he was tossing a muscle salad, and smacked Moster’s broad back hard, rubbing thick oil deep into Moster’s wide lats. The Sergeant felt the man’s rough blisters on his back and smiled. “You’ve been working, Private.” “Yes, sir, I sure have, sir.” The men fell into line, and awaited inspection. Moster paced in front of the muscle lineup and critically appraised his special forces team: Alvarez, Lang, Hension, Schumacher, and Waring. Washington, Abdul, Obatu, Gunst and Rockland. Muscle gods all. He nodded his satisfaction. “Line up according to height. Shortest man first. Private Hension, that’s you.” Hension was pushed to the head of the line. “Put the pretty boy first,” guffawed Obatu. Hension colored deeply, embarrassed as always to be referred to as the group ‘pretty boy’, but obeyed orders. “Dr. Irving, distribute White Caps,” Moster ordered. Irving passed the ration of capsules to the group. “It’s going that be that kind of showing, hunh?” chuckled Obatu. He popped a capsule and within seconds began to envision his powerful sexual fantasies come to life. He tugged slightly on his poser and glanced down to make sure the prominent, pulsing thick veins of his mighty dipping cockshaft were showing. He nudged Washington. “Check it out,” he said. Washington nodded. “Suckable,” he said, busily squeezing his own nipples into pointy hardness. Moster crossed behind the men and walked along, surveyed the lineup of rolling, hard, powerful glutes. He nodded. Huge mountains of gleaming, perfect, rock hard butt. “Butthole inspection,” he announced. Corporal Karim wished he had his butt plug with him, but didn’t betray himself with even a flicker across his stern face. He scowled, but even so Moster knew what the man wanted. He glanced down at Karim’s achingly firm glutes. “You clean, Corporal?” he asked. “Yes, sir.” “Good.” Moster knelt, lowered the man’s posers for a moment to quad height, and quickly inserted his thick fist deeply up inside the man’s butthole, up to his wrist. Karim never flinched. Moster rotated his fist, and just as quickly withdrew, with a butthole POP!, noting to his satisfaction that the Corporal was indeed clean. “Keep your concentration.” He wiped his fist with anti-bacterial lube and moved on to the next man. Hension was looking apprehensive. Moster approached him. “Any women inside?” Hension asked nervously. “Why do you ask, Private?” “Sir, for my best performance, sir, I like to get my face slapped first. And during. By a pretty girl with muscles.” “Not here tonight,” said Moster. “Bend over.” “Yes, sir!” Hension bent over, showing his twin glutes of extreme hardness, shape and striation. Moster lowered the muscleboy’s posers, made a fist, and once again plunged his fist up to his wrist up Hension’s taut butthole, twisting, probing and turning. Like Abdul, Hension never even raised an eyebrow as his welcoming rosebud enveloped the powerful fist. He was excited about lay ahead. His cock began its 12-inch journey to solid stiffness. He pulled his posers back up with some difficulty and wrapped the taut cloth as best he could around his growing engine. Alvarez appeared serene. He knew a good Pose and Approve session was ahead. Lang glanced at him and smiled. Alvarez was best with an audience. An admiring audience. His cock twitched in anticipation. Moster was quick with Alvarez, nodding approval, quickly inserting a probing fist, and moving on to Lang, doing the same. Up the drive at the house, a curtain fluttered. Someone was watching. Alvarez nudged Lang. “What?” asked Lang, clueless. “You see that?” “See what?” Alvarez smiled. “This is gonna be fun.” He stood “Let’s see those biceps, Gunst,” Moster commanded. Gunst complied, and flexed his meaty guns. “26 inches this morning, sir.” “Excellent. Turn around and bend over.” Gunst complied and Moster’s fist entered his butthole. He nodded satisfaction. Moster continued down the line of musclemen, inspecting pecs, nipples, hard abs, and ending with each man by inserting a giant fist up an eager butthole. Finally it was Casey’s turn. “Ever been fisted before?” Moster asked crisply. Casey had to admit it. “Yes, sir.” He turned around and bent over, his perfect butt now in Moster’s face, his fists buried in his obliques, jutting out his butt. It was an incredible ass. Two round globes of muscular golden flesh, perfect, hard-as-nails ovals of sleek construction. Powerful, huge, an incredible human loading dock of rounded power. Inside the darkened buttcrack Moster could see close-up the throbbing, inviting deep of Casey’s perfect butthole. Moster plunged his fist in, and turned it, pulling it out again after a minute. Clean as a whistle. “Good work, Rockland. “ Casey stood, turned and smiled. “I think you’re ready.” He turned to the driver, standing by the bus, impassively staring. “Ferdinand, Dr. Irving, come back in an hour. We should be done by then.” Then, quietly, he asked Irving, “Did the money come in yet?” “This afternoon, sir,” answered Irving. “$35,000.” “Good.” Moster took his place at the end of the line. “Shaft here yet?” “Inside, Sir.” Dr. Irving fiddled with his phone, getting frantic texts from Dr. Shaft. “Good. Give the men back their clothes. Men, get dressed.” Much fumbling and hopping about in the dark. Then - “Move out, men.” The musclemen marched into the entranceway of the one-story cliff side glass house and, single file, marched into the brightly lit living room. Inside, nine manicured, pampered, plumpish Hollywood movie execs, dressed in expensive Italian suits, ties down, were draped around the room, propped up on large plush sofas, drinks in hand, cellphones and Blackberries at the ready, waiting inside. Two or three were handsome enough to gain Alvarez’s slight interest. The smell of marijuana wafted through the air. They’d been drinking. And smoking. And snorting lines of coke. In fact, they all appeared smashed. And ready to see serious muscle. The tenth, a slender young man, sat separately, almost shyly, by himself, across the room on a smaller sofa, right before the vast picture window with the lights of LA twinkling in the distance. “Fucking finally! Bring on the talent!” one of the fat schmoes yelled as the men entered. But as the musclemen got into the room and turned, facing their clients, at full attention, the movie dudes were stunned into silence. “Holy shit…look at them!” "Fuckin' A..." For their part, the musclemen were themselves stunned into a moment silence by the lavishness of the room that extended before them, and the extraordinary view of the city through the plate glass windows, far, far below. The drapes had been opened. The moon shone full in the sky. “Wow,” breathed Lang. “Where the fuck are we?” "Fuckin' A is right," whispered Hension. There were a few moments on silence while everyone was amazed, albeit for different reasons. Sergeant Moster was first to retain his composure. "Gentlemen, thank you for inviting us for the evening. We think we have quite a show ready for your personal delectation..." Dr. Shaft rose from a white sofa. Even as familiar with the muscle in the room as he was, he was never less than stunned each time he saw more than three of the bodybuilders together. The sight of ten of them, including the impossibly giant Sergeant Moster, was enough to momentarily knock the air out of him. “Yes, thank you, and good evening, Sergeant Moster. Good evening, men.” He whispered to Moster. "I'll handle this." Dr. Shaft was excited. The men had not only arrived on time, they all looked….well, incredible. Beyond incredible, in fact. Unreal. Inhuman. The years of P-21 meshed with hardcore raw training had built magnificent muscle specimens unlike the world had ever seen before. No bodybuilding contest – and Shaft had attended hundreds – ever had the kind of raw muscular development that stood before them now. It was as if every muscle on every man had a muscle. Heaped pounds of raw lean man beef. It was staggering. Moster hid his irritation, already planning the next black eye he'd happily plaster on Shaft's face in their next private. “Good evening, Dr. Shaft. Men, you all know ....Dr. Shaft.” Hi, yeah, sure, hello, uh hunh, yeah we see him, etc etc, came from the musclemen. “May I introduce the men to their hosts?” asked Dr. Shaft ceremoniously And the lineup of musclemen turned to their agog clients. Hands at their sides, fists clenched, veins popping, tight white shirts wrapped around massive physiques. Legs spread wide. Quads bursting out of slacks. Biceps about to tear shirt sleeves. Fly bulges loomed to the floor. And the clients, schmoes all, stared back. Breathing. Panting. Disbelieving the universe of muscle they were seeing. Alvarez, Lang, Hension, Schumacher, and Waring. Washington, Abdul, Obatu, Gunst. And Casey Rockland. Team leader, the massive Sergeant Moster. The muscle team was here at last. The clients, schmoes all, stared back. Breathing. Panting. “Fuck, man. They’re fucking huge,” said one of the fattest men. He gulped. “Whatta they gonna do to us?” “You mean…what are they going to do for you,” said Sergeant Moster. “May I present…. nine of the most muscular men on the planet today.” He paused, glanced at his watch. “You have two hours.” He turned to the men. “Men, you may go to work.” The men moved into a line, first marching single file and then fanning out towards the edge of the broad staircase leading down to the sunken living room. At the top step they stopped, stood still, and displayed themselves proudly. Below them, the room of wealthy Hollywood elite schmoes fell into shocked silence, turned their heads, and stared agog at the massive muscle before them. The schmoes were seated together, as if for protection, on a heavy plush creamy white sofa, overloaded with soft, luxurious pillows, extending twenty-five feet across the room from the large picture window. It was a perfect setting for bodybuilder muscle worship. And there they stood. Calm. Blank faced. Each man handsomer than the next. Perfect tanned skin. Waistlines no larger than 32 inches on men each weighing up to 300 pounds – and more. It was going to be a insane night of muscle worship. And a profitable one, too. Shaft had been circulating rumors inside the Hollywood mill for years about this army of ungodly huge and handsome musclemen, and finally had assembled just the sample group of mega-rich movers and shakers that he needed for the initial private presentation. This meant big bucks in the future for Valhalla Labs. Sergeant Moster had delivered as promised, in spite of Dr Zaftig’s worry and misgivings back at the Valhalla Lab. But Shaft had faith. He knew these musclemen. He’d had too many private sessions to not know a little about them all by now. As long as they all behaved, that is, and no one got seriously hurt. They were hard to control, he knew, once they really started flexing and posing and showing it all off with feats of ungodly strength and their insatiable need to dominate. He knew all about his own tendency to wind up in the San Jose ER after particularly enthusiastic sessions with Moster. But, damn, he just couldn’t help it. Shaft had to admit the fantasy of Moster’s (relatively speaking) lightly damaging face punches and the spirited butt spankings he received as punishment for his own poor cock and body and his lame cocksucking was, well, just what he deserved, being the worm he was. And the fantasy memory of all that abuse kept him masturbating feverishly for months after. He hoped his Hollywood schmoes might fare a little lighter punishment than the stuff that he was now addicted to – unless of course they wanted the same treatment? But then, it might get picked up as a tasty little news item, all over TMZ. That couldn’t happen. Could it? It could rock the Hollywood establishment. Top studio heads beaten by massive, crazed bodybuilders in bizarre Hollywood Hills muscle showdown. No. That wouldn’t do. It was all pretty dangerous, but, what the hell. Shaft licked his lips with drooling anticipation and inspected the astounding male muscle display that confronted them all. The ten magnificent young men, plus the-even-huger-still Sergeant Moster, were now lined up, beefy shoulder to shoulder, round and perfect tri-headed delts touching massive delts. They stood in a perfect lineup of muscle on the steps leading from the 20’ ceilinged foyer down into the sunken living room. The entry way was a perfect dais for display, more than 40’ long, roomy enough for a panorama of beautiful beef and rippling vascularity unlike anything the staring schmoes down below had ever seen, or even imagined, before. And even fully dressed in tight, tight t-shirts and ferociously clinging tan slacks, the men were an unbelievable sight to behold. As if carefully posed, men all stood casually with their hands planted on powerful hips, legs spread wide. Muscles gleamed and bulged. Physiques rippled enticingly, displayed for delectation in the clinging super-wide white spandex t-shirts. Every vein, every muscular bulge, every pound of sinew, every cut, every hard-packed slab of fatless lean and bulging male beef was on display for the stunned, wealthy Hollywood insiders. “Jesus fucking Christ,” someone mumbled. “Look at them. They’re not human.” Muscle worship was what these muscle giants lived for. Shaft knew that. Well, it was one of the things they lived for. He was fairly certain they also lived for training, lifting, eating, sex with each other and as many partners, male or female, that they could find. And – of course- getting huger every day. But Shaft couldn’t be sure that muscle worship might not be even more important. And of course, it made sense. After all, weren’t they all getting bigger, handsomer, stronger, more muscular, and more aggressive just so they could be worshipped? It hardly mattered, no more than the original intent of Dr. Zaftig all those years ago when he first started research on creating the ultimate team of massive male bodybuilders. For there they were, eleven muscle gods, still and easy, unmoving, posed, both tense and calm, showcasing magnificent, perfect male muscularity. And there were nine others, just as huge, handsome, and hung as the men before them, back at the lab. The atmosphere in the room crackled. And Shaft could feel it now, could even see the musclemen’s eager anticipation of the impeding worship of their physiques. Their excitement was just beginning to show, starting to loom now, like a faint musky aroma, getting stronger, seeping into the room. They seemed to be getting bigger, to be growing before them. They were certainly measurably heavier in their tight slacks, their flies just beginning to bulge forward and droop down with pointed pushing, with throbbing penis weight, their erections about to bloom and show and push out and forward and up inside their tightening pants. And considering the price tag of upwards of $85,000 the Hollywood elite schmoes had laid out for this private muscle show, inwardly he was relieved that it had all started out without the slightest hitch. And the new man, Casey Whatever His Name was, was there, too, there on the end. The handsomest of all? Shaft wasn’t sure. And, per Zaftig’s regular reports, on his way to being the biggest? And only 19 years old, too. The promise that lay ahead. He’d better be, at a price tag of $15,000 just for his appearance. That shorter man was also improbably handsome. Shaft studied the impressively beautiful Chris Hension, with his perpetual half erection always looming in his pants, thick masculine dark brown nipples, devilish smile and darting eyes; he was certainly a square-jawed piece of eye candy. And then there was Alvarez, always with the thick-lipped handsome Lang nearby – moist lips, always slightly shiny, always recently licked, lips that Shaft just knew glided lightly and lovingly up and down, root to head, over the long, thick penis shaft of his muscle husband Alvarez during their after-hours Pose and Approve sessions. And the scary hairy Karim Abdul, glowering in the middle of the lineup, with the shorter beefslab hardass Schumacher right next to him – weren’t they each other’s nemesis? Maybe they got hard posing together? And that giant Gunst, he of the amazing nearly 28 inch biceps. Shaft hurried over to Moster, just stepping down into the sunken living room, extending a wet hand. “Sergeant Moster, we’re so glad to see you -- ” He was suddenly cut off. Suddenly, from that muscle dais above, came an outraged roar. “Are you who the fuck I think you are?!!!” It was Gunst. He was shouting now, pointing down at someone in the room, at one of the waiting shmoes. All stopped and turned, stunned into silence. On the sofa was sprawled a fat, unshaved, tall mass of slob schmoe, who looked up from his phone, startled and scared. “Yeah, YOU, You FUCKING ASSHOLE!” “Do I know you…?” the schmoe blubbered. “I know you! You fucking asshole! I know you! You preyed on my sister!” Gunst was roaring now. “Get that worthless worm over here!” Waring and Lang stepped down, as if on cue, striding manfully into the room, heading to the creamy white sofa, then grabbing and holding down the particularly fat and ugly Hollywood former studio head, now sprawling agog, to prevent him from bolting. “Never mind, I’ll fuck him up myself…. ” Striding forward, every muscle in his massive frame now quivering with rage, Gunst pushed past Waring and Lang and into the room. The man was an impressive, fearful sight, his veins throbbing, ripped muscle on a mission, his huge pecs roiling and bursting in his tight t-shirt, his piston-thick arms slabs of disciplined beef, his fists clenched and ready to do damage. Casey was stunned. His mouth open, agape. He’d never heard the normally gentle giant Gunst so angry before, never even envisioned it. And he seemed crazed, pointing down at the terrified schmoe, accusing, now standing wide-legged and in full aggressive mode. “You don’t know me!” he screamed. “I don’t know you, either! What is this??? Dr. Shaft??” Shaft came forward, frightened but trying to maintain control. “Corporal Gunst?...” he started. He suddenly felt Moster’s hand on his shoulders, stopping him, pulling him back. Shaft tripped and fell on the carpet. Moster helped him up, shot him a quick look and a little smile, and putting a finger to his lips, shook his head. He mouthed, “No no.” He smiled. Shaft froze and, regaining his balance, stepped back, and did as he was told. Gunst was now standing above the cowering, terrified schmoe, roaring, his legs spread wide, his thick fists plunged into his obliques, ripped intercostals bulging like bricks, htting a powerful front lat spread. He rotated on his heels to show his lats at different angles. His pecs soared to the ceiling, his nipples went taut and pointed downward to the floor, bulging in his t-shirt, the luscious brown areola outlined. “You wanna see muscles, you fucking asshole?? check out these muscles!!! FUCKING WORTHLESS WORM!!! I’M GONNA SHOW YOU WHAT THESE BIG MUSCLES CAN REALLY DO!!!” From the facing sofa by the picture window, the small pipsqueak pencil neck schmoe was seemingly ignoring it all. Transfixing, he was staring directly at Casey now, seemingly unaware of the threatening Gunst, who was apparently on the verge of beating the fat schmoe to death right across the room from him. Casey, ever sensitive, knew he was being stared at. He turned his head slightly and returned the pencilneck’s gaze. He smiled. The pencilneck smiled back, tentative, shy. Casey began to do a slow, subtle, bubbling pec dance in his t-shirt, his mammoth chest bouncing slightly, right to left, left to right, his nipples taut and pushing powerfully into the tight fabric. He smiled a little more broadly. “You like that?” he mouthed. The pencilneck stared and nodded slightly. He did like it. Gunst was now in full flex fury mode. He glided from his threatening front lat spread into an equally threatening front double biceps. POW! he shouted, Just Look at these fucking guns! BOOM! His monster biceps broiled with iron packed sinew, laced with mammoth, pulsing cephalic veins. BAM!!! he added, extending his meaty arms to their full length, working the fingers of his powerful fists before clenching them into furious fist-weapons. “These are muscles, asshole!” he shouted. “And they’re comin’ to get YOU!” And then he bent, slowly, inexorably, coming closer, this huge mass of muscle and rage, smashing his fist in his meaty palm, and grabbed the schmoe by the shirt front, pulling his terrified ugly face up to his spitting, furious mouth. “I’m gonna FUCK YOU UP. I’m gonna beat the shit out of you, and I’m not even gonna touch you with THESE fists. I’m JUST gonna do it with my pecs. And then with my dick. I’m gonna beat your face bloody with my pecs and my dick!” The schmoe was blubbering now. Casey regarded it all somewhat calmly. He’d seen such behavior before at the Home, of course, and the Twenty were always wild and crazy like this on the gym floor, particularly during White Cap workout nights. They often beat the shit out of each other, bounding back for more. Nothing new here. What’s more, he figured it was probably all an act. Gunst was probably being paid for this interesting little muscle play. It was all working, of course, because none of the other musclemen had moved, as if they knew what was coming. And if there had been any serious, real danger, Karim Abdul and Moster, whose combined strength couldn’t even be gauged, would have stepped in to pull Gunst back and subdue him. More to the point, now he realized he recognized the schmoe from online. Something about how he had abused women for 30 years or more, and was now out of the studio, nationally shamed. Some big fat slob who ruined women’s careers if they didn’t fuck him. But he was still super rich, and he’d profited off of his exploitation and cruelty. Now set adrift in the Hollywood community and unable to work ever again, he was still worth several hundred million, and was not feeling any pain. Until tonight, of course. Now he was gonna get what he deserved. Still, Casey was more interested in his potential new friend, who seemed sober, quiet, respectful, and agog at the size of his muscles. That was just the way Casey figured he’d like them. Quiet and worshipful. As he walked over to the distant sofa, his cock twitched heavily, rolled in his pants, and began to point and grow. His new little fan seemed to be the exception in the room. He sat alone on his sofa across the room, maybe 20 feet away from the group of fat schmoes on the long couch. He was just staring at Casey, longingly, neither talking nor texting. Standing before him now not six feet away, Casey smiled in a friendly way. The pipsqueak smiled back, staring at Casey’s physique and handsome face and his ever-growing crotch bulge, blooming in his tight slacks. Tentative, nervous, a little frightened, shaking. “Hi,” said Casey, friendly. He got closer and extended a huge paw. “I’m Casey.” “I know. I’m….I’m Mike.” Mike reached up to shake hands, frightened and brave, his soft little hand covered by Casey’s enormous mitt. He stared at the pumping forearms as Casey gently shook his hand. He was very careful not to crush the little guy’s fingers. The fat slob was screaming now. “Hey, I’m just here to see a little muscle! You want money? I got a lot of money! I'll give it to you. Leave me alone!! Don't hurt me!!!” Gunst laughed nastily. “You just wanted to see a little muscle??? How about FUCKING HUGE MUSCLE??” He started slapping the man lightly across the face, back and forth, little humiliating stinging slaps that popped and smacked in echoes bouncing across the vast living room. “Ouch. Ouch! Leave me alone….!” “You belong to ME, asshole.” Gunst scooped the fat man (who must have weighed 300 pounds or more) up from the deep, sheltering confines of the plush sofa cushions. Effortlessly swinging the screaming man wide above his head, the man’s legs and feet flying in a circle around the work, Gunst swept the slob high above his head and held him there. Carrying him from the room, he yelled back to Waring and Lang, “You boys can join me later when you’ve finished with this group. But for now - he’s mine!” He turned his head up to the impotently squirming producer and lowered him down to meet his face. He spat his words. “Come to think of it, I’m gonna start you out nice and easy. You like glutes? How about some world-class musclebutt? I sure hope so. Casue I’m gonna sit on your face for the next 45 minutes. You’ll get to see my muscleass up close and personal….” And then they were gone, down the corridor. Silence. The schmoes staring, transfixed. “What was all that about? Who is that guy?” Hension whispered loudly to Obatu. Obatu shrugged. “Some movie producer.” “So why did Gunst go off on him like that?” “Maybe he didn’t like his movies.” “Private client,” said Alvarez. “It’s a put-up job. Extra money.” “This guy is paying Gunst to park his muscle ass on him for 45 minutes?” “No.” Alvarez smiled and whispered back. “The dude’s wife. Extra credit for public humiliation.” “Are the bedrooms through here?” Gunst asked, in the distance, his voice now conversational. “Noooooo…!” screamed the fat man. Down the hall they could hear a door opened. “Would in here be good for you?” Gunst asked calmly. “It’s good for me.” The schmoe’s screams continued for a moment, even after the door was closed. And then, they stopped. Very suddenly. Replaced by another sound, that could only be described as “mmmmpppphhhllllfffffffff…!!!... ..uuummmmm…” Presumably Gunst had undone his belt, lowered his slacks, squatted down his naked perfect butt, and was now getting comfortable on the man’s face. “Let me know if you have trouble breathing,” they heard him say, as if he was asking to pass the salt. Mike had watched in silence, his face surprisingly unexpressive. Unfrightened by Gunst’s outrage. That was interesting. He was clearly more nervous about Casey’s unanticipated friendliness. Casey turned back to the roomful of rich Hollywood schmoes, now numbering eight. For schmoes was what they were, and now, Casey had a pretty good gut level understanding of what a schmoe actually was. A schmoe was a creepy, ugly, fat, rich guy who was clueless, mean, selfish, liked musclemen, and was willing to pay his pleasure, and assumed money was all he needed. That was a schmoe. Casey’s lip curled in contempt. And far from frightened or intimated by the display of alpha male dominance Gunst had just performed, effortlessly carrying a kicking and screaming man over his head and out of the room, the schmoes were now quietly giggling, texting, snorting coke and toking up. They seemed to have enjoyed what they just witnessed. Nasty fuckers, thought Casey. He turned back to little Mike. “You’re not like those other guys.” “No.” “Why are you here, then?” “…..well….it’s my house.” Holy Shit. The Jackpot. That was fast. “Really? This is your place?” Mike nodded. “Yes.” Casey went to the point. “You like big muscles?” Casey asked, excited now. No sense in wasting time with pleasantries, although truth to be told, Casey probably had never heard the word before. “Yes, I do.” “Okay, then, watch this. All for you.” Casey moved fast into a front lat spread, rotating from side to side. “See these fucking pecs? They’re huge. You like this?” Casey’s shirt stretched and seemingly groaned from the strain. “….Golly….” Mike was breathing heavily. “Will ya look at that…?” His hand involuntarily moved to his crotch. Casey winked at him, nodding and smiling, reeling off his obvious talents. “Obliques, intercostals, abs like bricks, pecs like cannonballs, all hard and solid. And that’s just for starters. Here’s a most muscular crab shot.” His shirt fabric began to tear as his muscles exploded with sinew, mass and popping veins. “How about big guns?” he asked, flexing his brutal biceps. “26 inches,” he whispered proudly. “These guns measure 26 inches. You wanna touch ‘em?” Mike nodded, dumbly, reached out with tentative fingers, as Casey bent down to offer a closer view of his huge guns. “Touch ‘em! Go ahead and feel ‘em. Stroke ‘em. Ever felt anything so hard?” Mike’s fingers lightly caressed Casey’s 26 inch right biceps. “Wow,” he breathed, and stared up into Casey’s eyes. “I got great glutes, too,” he said conspiratorially, bringing his face now close to Mike. “It’s the ass of death. You’ll see. You can see them later. Really awesome.” Hey, he thought. This guy was kinda good-looking. Maybe he only weighed about 135, but he was cute. And probably really rich. Casey got even closer, flexed that powerful biceps right under Mike’s nose. “See that vein? It’s like a snake, watch it now…go ahead, lick it. Yeah. That’s right. Lick…” “Casey,” warned Moster. “Not yet.” Casey turned back, straightened up. “Yes, sir,” Casey said. “Join us,” said Moster. Casey looked at Moster, nodded, “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” And then returned to look down at Mike for a second. “Just a moment. I’ll be right back. He wants us to flex for your buddies. Don’t be scared. It’s just an act.” Mike was nodding feverishly. Casey could see his fly was bulging, and the bulge was not bad. Not bad at all. Maybe he was hung a little? He hoped so. “Well, you shouldn’t be scared,” Casey added. “The guys may beat up those other assholes a little, but I’ll protect you. I’m strong. You won’t get too hurt. And I’ll flex for you, and you can suck my dick awhile, and play with my glutes, and I’ll suck your dick, too, and maybe I’ll even fuck you, if you can take it. You can fuck me! Your butthole big enough? We all good?” Mike nodded, breathless, staring. “Great!” Casey was excited. This was going to be fun. “I like being worshipped! It’ll be dope. Hang on. This’ll only take a second. You wait.” The words came in a rush. “I…can wait….sure.” “Awesome. I’ll be right back.” Casey bounded back and rejoined the team. He readied himself, changed his face, scowled, and looked mean. Moster hid his smile. He was mightily amused. He should have foreseen that Casey would somehow ferret out the one dude who was signing the checks. The other men of the Twenty were, at the end of the day, too narcissistic to note personalities, character, differences, subtleties. For them, it was only about dominating, posing, flexing, showing off muscle. And the schmoes? Like any muscle lovers who lived closeted, rich, narrow, spoiled lives, they were only in it for themselves. But Casey definitely had possibilities. Moster made a mental note. He must remember not to mention this to Dr. Zaftig. Then he spoke, and his voice brooked no dissent. “Gentlemen, you will now silence your devices. Per the agreement in our mutual contract, there are to be no pictures taken, no recorded video, no texting, no emails, Instagram, Facebook or tweets.” There was a pause. Mike pulled his phone from his pocket and switched it off, looked up at Casey, and smiled. The schmoes stared up at Moster, not moving. “I’m waiting.” Still nothing. “Boys?....” said Moster quietly. Together with Casey, the nine muscle giants took a step towards the big sofa, alert, ready hands at their sides. There was a tense pause. “I didn’t sign any agreement…” one of the schmoes started to protest.
  4. Host: Hello everyone and welcome to another season of "Gainers". I am your host Freddi Fit and you may remember me from becoming the muscle alpha I am today on our very first season just three years ago. *Freddi Fit raises a double bicep flex, stretching his button down short sleeves to their limit. "After all, who can forgot that glorious moment when I was voted to steal everything from Hank The Tank who had been growing massive all season. It was a major upset and the audience was ready to see a new alpha show that brute a lesson. Since then I've been living the dreams as America's hunkiest bodybuilder. Well tonight this dream begins once again with 8 brand new contestants. After twelve weeks, one of them will be left with a hulking body while the others leave smaller than they came. And like always, every week you the audience will decide who gets what. Now let's not waste any time here and meet our contestants. Screen switches to contestant video number one. A nineteen year old college wrestler named Cam. "Hey everyone! The name is Cameron, or Cam for short. I've been wrestling for six years and I can't wait to show the other men who the real jock is gonna be. Maybe if you're lucky you might even see me put some of them in headlocks and drain the muscle from them." Screen switches to contestant video number two. A 39 year old college professor who has been working out for many years. "Hello everyone, it Max here. I've been a health science teach for about 10 years and have always wanted more in life. I'm hoping to win and become the next leading model for muscle god magazine. Either way, I'm hoping to teach the other men a thing or two about what it means to be blessed with muscle." Screen switches to contestant number 3. A 24 year old ex fire fighter who recently begun a modeling career. "If you thought fighting fires was hot, wait till you see me on nothing but my suspenders. Hey everyone my names chad. Make sure you vote for me this season so I can become the muscular flame that makes you sweat." Screen switches to contestant number 4. A 31 year old cop from NYC. "Hey. It's Stu. I've been lifting ever since becoming a cop, but to keep the streets safe, I'm going to need your help to grow my guns and have the fire power needed to intimidate the bad guys and fight crime." Screen switches to contestant number 5. A 27 year old businessman. "Hello everyone, being a businessman keeps me quite busy. So I'm going to need your help building these muscles as big as they can get so I can really fill out my suites nicely! By the way, the name is Dominique." Screen switches to contestant number 6. A 42 year old father. "Hello everyone. My name Ken. Before I had children I was in pretty good shape. However since then I've begun to get out of shape. I need your help to be bigger and better than I was when I was younger." Screen switches to contestant number 7. A 21 year old college graduated pursuing a career in acting. "Hey y'all. Zac here. I've been trying to make it big as an actor but you know they are looking for muscular guys these days. Help me become a jacked up actor." Screen switches to contestant number 8. A 25 year old man living in his parents house. "Hi everyone. I'm Tony, and I've been having a really hard time finding a job. Can you help me you help me out and give me the chance to pursue a career in fitness and get the hell out of my parents house. They'd really appreciate it as well!" Tony is clearly the smallest guy. Although he still has slight hints of muscle, there isn't much for the others to take. Host: "Well don't we just have a great batch this year. The group will be entering the growth cell now where they will spend the next 12 weeks changing. Go online now to vote for your top 4 favorite guys who will receive a special serum boost tomorrow night to start off the game. And don't forget to send in your nicknames for each dude. The most votes will decide what we call each contestant from here on. Anyways. Goodnight Gainer fans! Freddi Fit signing off!" *Freddie fit solutes the camera and transitions in to an archer pose as the credits roll.*
  5. muscleaddict

    Charlie's Secret

    This is a story I wrote years ago for my "Muscle Addicts Inc" blog. I've been going over it and making a few tweaks here and there and thought I'd share it here as I work on it. It's far from perfect but some of you guys might like it, or parts of it anyway! CHARLIE’S SECRET One My name is Charlie Steatham and I have a secret. It’s not a secret because it’s something I’m ashamed of. On the contrary, it’s something I love having. A part of me I wouldn’t ever want to change. It’s just not the kind of thing that would really be appropriate to tell a person in most given situations, or the kind of thing the majority of people would really understand even if I did. Let me tell you how I came to discover I even had this secret to keep. It was one Saturday afternoon back in England. I was home alone and innocently flicking through a magazine my parents bought weekly, which specialised in, of all things, radio and television listings. I wasn’t really reading it, just half heartedly turning the pages, stopping every now and then to linger on the odd thing which caught my attention, unbeknownst to me that I was about to stumble on to something which would have the strangest, and most incredible effect on me. An effect like nothing had ever had on me before. Something which would lead me to a world I never even knew existed. I remember feeling my eyes physically widening when I first saw the picture, and how it felt like my heart actually stopped beating for just a millisecond of time. Staring at it, I couldn’t quite get my head around what I was seeing, and why it seemed to have me so completely transfixed. Staring up at me from the page, was the most grotesquely muscular man I had ever seen. Every single one of his body parts was enormous. From the neck up he just looked like an ordinary man, he was handsome for sure, with nothing particularly special about his features, except for the fact his skin was a dark bronzed colour with an oily shine, but from the neck down, his whole body was a mass of gigantically huge, almost cartoon-like balloons of hard, smooth, muscle, bulging so much they looked as if they were about to burst. Every muscle was deeply separated, and most had a number of thick, wiry veins running across them. I had seen muscular guys before. Movie stars and athletes with six packs and tight, hard toned bodies, but the man in this image was something else entirely. He didn’t even look like a human being. He looked like a new superior species of the human race. A sick experiment gone wrong. Some kind of otherworldly creature, computer generated for a superhero film. As this monstrously massive muscle freak of nature, completely naked except for a small, shiny, green pouch covering his genitals, his hands resting on the top of his enormously thick legs, biting down on his lower lip and his face contorted into an almost arrogant but hugely proud expression, like he was having a whale of a time simply just possessing that freakishly huge, anatomy chart like body, stared up at me from the pages of this incredibly ordinary magazine in the living room of my parents incredibly ordinary house, I was completely and utterly hypnotised. My heart was pounding, my mind was racing, and for some reason, my penis was rock hard, twitching and pushing against the material of my boxers and jeans which were now struggling to contain it. This thing which had unexpectedly intruded on me from another world seemed to have this incredible hold and power over me, and I had now idea why. It didn’t feel wrong, but I knew that whatever this effect it was having on me was, it definitely wasn’t of the ordinary. After staring at the image for what seemed like hours, I forced myself out of my muscle obsessed trance, and tried to focus my mind on something else, but I couldn’t. My mind had been invaded, and my thoughts completely taken over by the image of that freakishly huge mountain of enormous muscle. I needed to see it again. I took the magazine into my bedroom and lay on my side on the bed, my upper body perched up by my elbow, the magazine next to me, flat on the bed. I flicked through the pages to try and find the image, and when I did, it was like I was seeing it for the first time all over again. I had no idea what was happening to me, all I knew was that in front of me was something so amazing and special. I had never desired anything more than this specimen of extreme muscle mass. This huge, hulking mountain of thick, superhuman muscle with his air of incredible power, extreme arrogance and hyper masculinity was the most beautiful and sexually provocative thing I had ever laid eyes on. I reached for my throbbing hard on, bulging and straining through my jeans, gently squeezed and started tugging. Soon enough I was popping open the buttons of my jeans and my white cotton boxer encased hard on was sticking out. I tugged and wanked, all the time staring at the muscle freak before me. Staring at the huge mounds of croquet ball shaped muscles which popped from his arms and fought for space with his perfectly smooth and insatiably thick chest, which looked like it was made of marble, but had tiny, wiry veins spread across the upper half. Staring at how his deeply carved shoulders ballooned like two watermelons trapped under bronzed tinted skin, which tightly stretched across the enormous, smooth muscle and looked unhealthily thin. Staring at his six beautifully shaped stomach muscles which looked like they had been carved with a knife. Staring at the incredible mass of lines and ripples etched into his tremendously large, hard looking leg muscles, and while staring at this presumably once ordinary sized man who’d built and moulded his entire body to extreme proportions and made himself look like a member of an entirely new, superior species, who looked up at me from my bed with an expression of complete and utter self satisfaction, and his air of incredible power and arrogance, my entire body seemingly shook, the most pleasurable sensation I’d ever had consumed my entire body, I let out a loud groan of ecstasy and my boxers filled up with a wet creamy liquid. Staring at a picture of, who I later found out was one of the top professional American bodybuilders of the time, hitting a most muscular pose on stage at a bodybuilding competition in probably the best condition of his career, I’d masturbated and made myself cum for the first time in my life. From that moment on, I’ve been completely obsessed with huge, freaky muscle. Nothing turns me on more than the image of competition ready, monstrously muscular, indecently shredded bodybuilders who live and breathe for being huge, who love nothing more than to climb into small, brightly coloured posing trunks, made of the shiniest material imaginable, and to stand in front of a camera, or an audience, and flex, tense and squeeze their cartoonishly big, deliciously carved, deeply separated balloons of thick, hardcore muscle mass, looking both impossibly beautiful and inhumanly grotesque in equal measures, loving every single moment of showing off their phenomenally built, superhero-worthy, circus sideshow freak-like bodies. As one can imagine, it’s a fantasy that stubbornly stays at that; a fantasy. How many ripped and peeled competitive bodybuilders sporting biceps bigger than the size of the average man’s head do you see walking round your local supermarket? None. And how many jacked and shredded muscle freaks one week away from competing at their fourth bodybuilding show of the year do you see on a Friday night at the local pub? Absolutely zero. Of course, there have been some very rare, and exceptionally brilliant moments where I’ve encountered fairly big guys sporting some pretty decently sized muscle, one or two of whom could have easily stepped onto a bodybuilding stage at some point, at various places, and of course, those moments will probably be forever etched into my memory, but for the most part, genuinely huge muscle guys, and certainly bodybuilders like the one in the magazine I found all those years ago, and the ones I have spent countless hours watching and viewing ever since, still remain an extremely elusive and rare breed. The world of extreme bodybuilding is an exceptionally small one, to which I have no ties or belonging to. Except for finding the courage to attend a bodybuilding show which I’ve yet to do, it’s a world I didn’t think there was much chance I would ever step into. That was, until today. Or to be more precise, two Tuesday’s ago, when Professor Walsh (officially my favourite lecturer from the university in California I’m temporarily studying at for a term) presented myself and my fellow students from my Video and Audio Production Techniques class with a list of the options for the first, one day work experience placement of the semester. This is a day where every student on the course has the opportunity to participate in the filming of various types of film, television and video productions. Every student has to select three options, and the Professor tries her best to assign the student to one of their choices. This is not always possible though because, as you can imagine, some of the options are more popular than others and there are only so many students allowed on each placement. Some of the students, usually the louder, more extroverted ones, were intent on getting the big gigs like production on the set of a film, and popular television talk shows. Personally, I was happy with anything that would give me some experience. Copies of the list were passed around to raised voices and excited chatter. I scanned the list to see, sure enough, a well known television talk show, work on an independent film, the set of a fairly well known cop show from cable who were filming in the area, work for a local news television station, and some more fairly obscure productions. Although nothing was particularly standing out as something I had a real desire to do, it all sounded pretty exciting. And then, as my eyes steered down to the bottom of the page, they suddenly widened, my heart leaped into my throat, and I almost couldn’t believe what I saw written on the last line, as the very last option; Filming Backstage at a Local Bodybuilding Competition. My head was spinning. Was this really happening? Was the universe finally providing me with an entry into this world I never thought I would enter? I kept checking the list, looking at the words again, just to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating, and sure enough, there it was. My opportunity to be at, and take part in the filming of an actual bodybuilding competition. I suddenly pictured myself backstage at a bodybuilding competition, in a space packed full of massive, bronzed painted muscle men wearing nothing but tiny sized, thinly strapped posing trunks, each pair shinier and brighter than the next. Every single superhuman muscle brute of a man intensely pumping up his shockingly huge muscles, grunting and huffing with every lift as their huge slabs of man meat strain and bulge through their completely hairless, drum tight skin, and me, standing next to a cameraman, closely filming every single pump of a massive, competition conditioned All American muscle freak, mere inches away from his blown up balloons of bulging, rippling muscle. The fact that I was looking at the opportunity to be in the presence of the kind of muscle bulls I’d been wanking off over for years and to see their enormous, freaky muscle up close in person was mind blowing. However, it terrified me just as much as it excited me. The two days which followed were spent agonising over what to do with this opportunity I’d been unexpectedly faced with. My mind was completely split in half. It felt like two voices had invaded my head, one voice saying, “You have to do this. This is a rare, once in a lifetime opportunity and you will never get this again. It will absolutely amazing, it will blow your mind and you’ll get to see real life, genuine muscle freaks pumping, flexing and posing close up. Deep down you know you want to do this, and if you don’t, you will always regret it.” Meanwhile, the other voice was shouting, “Don’t be stupid, you can’t do this. You will make a fool of yourself. You will feel uncomfortable and nervous. People will look at you and think you are strange. And how will you explain your reason for wanting to do this to your classmates, and Professor Walsh?” One minute, a certain voice would sound clearer than the other, and I would make what I thought was my final decision. But then, out of nowhere, the other voice would suddenly shout up again, and I’d start to doubt my decision again. Even on the day of handing in our choices, sitting in Professor Walsh’s class, with five minutes to spare before the lesson came to a close, I still hadn’t made my final decision. I also knew that if I selected the bodybuilding competition, there was a very good chance I would get the placement. I couldn’t say for definite, but I knew it was fairly unlikely that any of my other classmates would select it as an option. There were a couple of guys in my class with a little bit of muscle on them who clearly went to the gym, but I would have been highly surprised if any of them had a genuine interest in bodybuilding. It was, without a doubt, one of those obscure placements to make up the numbers which nobody wanted to end up on. Well, almost nobody. Professor Walsh was wrapping up the lesson. “OK, class, you might have noticed this red box at the front of my desk.” This was it. My time was up. “By now I presume you’ve all made your three choices for next weekend’s work experience placement,” Professor Walsh continued. “If you’d like to place your completed sheets into the box as you leave. Please keep in mind, you are not guaranteed a place on any of your choices. We will do our best to assign you to one of your choices, but due to limited spaces on each placement, in some cases this will not be possible.” My classmates had started to shift and while everyone was getting out their sheets and gathering their bags in order to leave, I was staring at my sheet with my pen anxiously hovering over it. Two of my choices had been ticked, which just left one. The words “Bodybuilding Competition” leered up at me, testing my every nerve and ounce of bravery. My pen was wavering from the tick box next to it, to the box next to the option of “Production on a Music Video.” The voices in my head both clearer and more frantic than ever, one in battle with the other. Bodybuilding Competition Charlie, you HAVE to do this! Music Video Don’t be stupid. You will make a fool of yourself. Bodybuilding Competition Just imagine it! Real life, genuine muscle freaks pumping, flexing and posing close up! Music Video You will feel uncomfortable and nervous. People will look at you, and think you are strange! Bodybuilding Competition Deep down you know you want to do this, and if you don’t, you know you will ALWAYS regret it! And with one quick motion, I ticked the box next to my third and final option, and my fate was sealed. My heart was pounding as I approached the box on Professor Walsh’s desk, and my hands were shaking slightly as I dropped the sheet in. The second after, I glanced up to see Professor Walsh looking at me behind her desk. A friendly smile was trying to mask an expression of curiosity and slight confusion. She had clearly noticed my anxiety and I felt a sharp, brief pinch that I might have been rumbled. The incident quickly faded from memory, and as I left the classroom and walked along the corridor, the strongest emotion of elation, sheer pride and an overwhelming feeling that I had just done something amazing came over me. I had just taken one step closer to that crazy, amazing world of huge, freaky muscle I never thought I would ever be able to enter.
  6. mfergie15

    Houston

    First time posting and first story. Hope people like it. ---------------------------------------------------------------- Houston, Part 1 My name is Trevor and growing up I was a larger guy. Now, I am 24 years old, 6 feet tall, and 280 pounds of mostly fat and some muscle. My family didn’t accept me being gay so I packed the essentials into my car and took off. I ended up in Northern Texas in one of those towns that is small, as in everyone knew each other, but large enough to have some bigger chain stores. I found a cheap apartment and got a job as a cashier at the locally-owned supermarket. Despite feeling inadequate, since I had a bachelor’s degree, I gladly accepted the money that the job provided. On my second day of work and my fifth day in town, I met someone that would change my life. —— At the check-out line, I have a good view of every patron entering and exiting the store. At about 10 in the morning, a man walked in. He was about my height and looked like he was in his late 40s, but he was probably 260 pounds of muscle and about my height. He was a solid wall and he was wearing a tank top that showed his hairy, massive pecs and huge biceps. Very good looking. He was followed by an even bigger, better looking, and younger man. Guessing, the younger man was about 26 or 27 years old. They looked like a father-son duo coming in for their weekly food supply. The son was absolutely stunning. He was about 6 inches taller than his dad and I; probably had about 30 pounds on his dad, all muscle. He was wearing a similar tank top but instead of jeans, he was wearing basketball shorts. He had a sprinkling of red hair across his chest and in his pits that matched the hair on his head. As he and his dad walked through the store, I tried my best not to appear that I was staring and the younger muscle stud’s huge biceps, jutting pecs and ass, and noticeable bulge in the crotch. The stud had amazingly sexy bluish-green eyes and brownish-red hair. They spent about 30 minutes going through the aisles. As I was checking out an older lady who insisted on paying the exact change, the duo got in my check-out line. The father was looking through the cart and it appeared they forgot something; he left to go find it and as I was still helping the old lady, I was blinded. Blinded by the stud stretching his arms up over his head and his shirt riding so high up, I saw his furry 6 pack of abs and his defined obliques; I even saw some pubes sticking out of his waistband. I popped an erection right there. I looked away to finish assisting my current customer. However, when I next looked over at him, he was staring at me with a cocky grin. He stepped up to the register as I began ringing up his items and started up a conversation with me. “You’re new in town. What’s your name?” “Trevor.” “Well, Trevor. My name is Houston and,” the older man walked up and joined him on the other side of the register, “this is my dad, Ian.” Staring at the two of them, I couldn’t help but focus on their nipples. Ian’s were pushing against the thin fabric of his tank and Houston’s were hard and exposed, almost staring at me. I almost dropped the milk carton by missing the counter because I was so distracted. Ian continued their introduction. “Nice to meet you. I own the gym in town and we live behind it in the small house. We come in about 3 times a week, so we will be getting to know each other.” He paid with a debit card and started loading the bags into his cart. As he was loading, Houston pulled out a business card and wrote something on the back. “Here is the business card for the gym. I work as a personal trainer, so come by if you want to get in shape.” In a whisper, “my cell number is on the back if you want to hang out sometime.” —— That weekend on my day off, I walked over to the gym. Upon walking in, the receptionist greeted me, but Houston came over before the guy could say much more. Houston looked amazing. He had a light sweat and I could smell a musky odor emanating from his body. He was wearing a tight black tank top with the gym logo on the back and black leggings. Houston’s pecs were very prominent and I could see his 6 pack through the shirt. His ass was very perky and round and hot and his thick quads pushed the bulge in his leggings forward. Houston asked if he could show me around; I agreed. He pointed out the cardio room and the weights room. He showed me the steam room, the locker room, and the showers. He showed me Ian’s office. Moved to another room then spoke in a whisper again. “This room is not well known. My dad built it for his bodybuilding days and you are the fifth person that has been shown the posing room.” The posing room was completely mirrored, had hardwood floor and one wall had sofas and bean bags and some ottomans. Houston dropped into one of the large sofas and motioned for me to join him. He pulled out a laptop. And started asking me some questions. “What is your ideal body? Like what is your ultimate goal for working out here?” “I want to be big. I want to be pro bodybuilder size, like bigger than you.” “Okay. Dream big and I believe I can help you as your trainer. So what is your weight goal?” “I am around 280 lbs right now. But it is mostly fat. So my goal is to be about 300 to 320 lbs of muscle with low body fat.” “Wow. So this will be a major lifestyle change for you, which I can also help with.” Houston kept taking notes. “We will need to take body measurements and before photos for motivation and progress tracking. Any questions for me.” I asked the two questions on my mind. “Will you show me how to pose and what is the cost?” Houston chuckled. “Well, for the cost, I will train you and give you guidance for free if you pay for your food and supplements and if you come in during any days off, including half days. As for the posing, I can give you a preview now and I can work with you in terms of posing as part of the training.” While Houston got off the couch, he pulled his shirt off and dropped it where he was sitting. As he walked away from me, I admired the details in his back, the span of his lats, and the sprinkle of hair on his shoulders and upper back. He took his shoes off and started to explain that there were 8 classic poses. “The first pose is, what I believe to be, the most popular. Front double biceps.” Houston had turned around and flexed both of his arms. I hid the hard-on that popped up but couldn’t stop staring. Houston had a nice layer of hair on his pecs and abs and well-maintained bushes in his pits. His biceps were large and his nipples were large and erect. I thought it was cute that he had the signature “outie” belly button. Houston continued with the posing; hitting the Front Lat Spread and the Side Chest. My dick just ached more and more, watching him pose was my fantasy come true. I thought I couldn’t get more turned on, but then Houston peeled off his leggings. He had a jockstrap on underneath. He hit the Side Triceps, then turned around and hit the Back Double Biceps and Back Lat Spread, calling out each pose as he hit it. Like I said, I felt like I could cum at any moment. Houston’s ass was as delicious as I imagined. It had a light coat of hair and was framed well in his jockstraps. I couldn’t get over the definition and size of his quads and hams and calves, also covered in hair. He announced the last two poses he would do: the Front Abdominal-Thigh and the Most Muscular. As he turned around, I was shocked by the size of his hard cock. The head was poking out of the top of his jockstrap and looked like it almost came up to his outie. The arch of his cock pushed the fabric away enough to see his red pubes, even more than what I saw in the grocery store. He kept the forest trimmed well enough. He finished the Most Muscular and chuckled. “It’s been awhile since I made myself hard posing. I apologize.” I barely got out, “No prob.” “You mind if I take care of it here?” “No.” Houston sat back down next to me, pulled off his jockstrap, and started to rub one out. “You can join me if you would like.” I was already hard and felt a little self-conscious, but I pulled my very average 5 inch dick out and started to rub one out as well. As I got close to cumming, I found enough courage to ask him the question. “How big?” His responded in two ways. “This morning I weighed in at 285 pounds and my dick is 8.5 inches long and 2 inches wide.” At those numbers, I came the most I ever had all over myself. This was also the first time I ever came in front of another person. I got cum all over my shirt. Houston noticed that I was finished and did, in my mind, the unbelievable. He forced the back of my head down to his crotch with his large might hand. I opened up and sucked his cock. He worked my head up and down. On the third push down, I took his whole cock with barely a gag. His pubes smelt sweaty and amazing. We went another couple of minutes before I heard him starting to gasp. The next thing I know, I felt a hot, sweet taste in my throat. I swallowed his entire load. As we cleaned up, Houston passed me a tee and struck up another conversation. “So, as an FYI, I am gay and this wasn’t some fling between us or me using you. I purposely stretched so that you would see my abs in the store that day. I thought you were cute.” I was speechless, with the whole jaw hanging open and everything. This big guy was into me. He continued on. “Well, I will still train you and if you want to be 315 pounds of muscle then I will get you there. And I think it will be a lot of fun to tumble in bed with a cute bodybuilder.” Finally, I found some words. “I never actually admitted to anyone that I am gay, my family found porn on my computer and threw me out. And you are the first guy I have done anything with. I must be dreaming.” “No dream. Just you and me in the posing room. I will talk to your boss and see about cutting your hours back so you can train more.” “Well, okay. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Houston came up and pecked my left cheek with a kiss and replied “Tomorrow for sure.” I walked home and showered off. I did some sit-ups and push-ups, had dinner, then watched some TV till around 8pm. I stripped off, climbed in bed and jacked off to my mental snapshots of Houston, his muscles, and his cock.
  7. muscleaddict

    Have You Seen These Posing Trunks?

    This is a new story I've been working on which I'll be posting here and on my Muscle Addicts Inc blog. It's written in diary format and sees a muscle addict called Oscar encounter a local bodybuilder. As you can probably guess from the title, there's a pretty heavy focus on posing trunks! HAVE YOU SEEN THESE POSING TRUNKS? Monday July 10th Dear Muscle Diary, Here are five things about muscle that drive me completely and utterly bonkers. #1. Biceps Big, granite hard, croquet ball shaped guns. Huge, freaky, vein encrusted peaks. Insanely pumped, thinly skinned, beyond human biceps. Guns that erupt to heart stopping proportions when blown up in an incredible front double bicep pose. Cannons that explode either side of (and look just as fucking big as!) the head of the muscle beast who owns them when rocking out a cheeky abs and thighs. Biceps that tense into a ball of rock hard, marble-like muscle mass and explode off the upper arm of a bodybuilder when he’s blasting out a massive side chest. FUCK YES! #2. Pecs Mammoth sized, patio slab tits. Absurdly developed, vein plastered chest pillows. Deliciously thick mounds of incredibly dense chest muscle. Pecs that hang off the torso of a jacked up muscle bull, begging to be squeezed, tensed and flexed. Chests that jump up like a cobra trying to attack the owner’s chin when he hits a front lat spread. Tits that bounce up and down like two puppies in a sack when the two hundred plus pounds muscle God they’re attached to decides to treat his adoring audience to a spot of pec bouncing. BOING! #3. Attitude/Cocky Posing For me, diary, the way a bodybuilder poses, and the attitude he adopts when he’s flexing, both on and off stage, has a huge part to play in how hot I find him. Nothing gets me going more than seeing a competition conditioned muscle freak stomping and strutting around a stage while displaying the most outrageously cocky, testosterone fuelled, power packed ‘tude! Ripped up muscle lads who really give it hell on stage, pulling all manner of shamelessly cocky facial expressions. Juiced up muscle pups who scrunch up their faces to absolute buggery and cheekily stick their tongues out as they squeeze their tan drenched mass. Roided up beef monsters who grunt, groan and yell as they crank out their poses with only mission on their minds; to make every audience member cream in their pants. FUCK YEAH LADS! #4. Glutes Obscenely developed, indecently muscular rumps. Enormous sized, gravity defying bottoms. Freakishly striated, line plastered glutes. Alien-like, shredded to buggery booties that explode with lines, details and striations when tensed and flexed on stage. Wafer thin skin encased arses so insanely conditioned you could grab a block of cheddar and use them as a fucking cheese grater. Gigantic orbs of ass meat that greedily gobble up the back of the tiny, shiny posing trunks of the owner. YOINK! #5. POSING TRUNKS! It’s not just the image of competition conditioned bodybuilders that drives me nuts. It’s also the outrageous clothing garments known as posing trunks they’re required on wear on stage. Yes diary ... I FUCKING LOVE POSING TRUNKS!! Brightly coloured, teenie weenie trunks so unbelievably shiny you need sunglasses to look directly at them. Micro sized posers whose stupidly thin straps get pulled up and yanked during a cheeky lat spread (YOINK)! Shiny as shit trunks which get plastered in greasy, golden tan and fucking drenched with the sweat of the muscle bull wearing them during competitions (SLURP)! Bright pink, glute hugging trunks. Glittery gold, bulge stretching trunks. TRUNKS, TRUNKS, TRUNKS! Yours, Oscar Grimes (self confessed, horn crazed muscle addict) Wednesday July 12th Dear Muscle Diary, Oh. My. Fucking. GOD!! You will not believe what has happened. Or what I'm now in possession of, and staring at, right at this very moment. FUCK!! OK, let me start at the beginning. So, tonight was washing night at my local launderette (whoop whoop). Wednesday's are not usually very busy but, for some reason, tonight all of the machines were being used. I was about to leave when I noticed that one had finished its cycle but, annoyingly, no one seemed to be taking their newly washed clothes out of the machine. I sat on the bench and started to read a book, in hope that the washing would be collected, or that another machine would be freed up shortly. Ten or so minutes into waiting (double fucking bugger) and I was seriously considering giving up and trying again for tomorrow night when, who should walk into the laundrette, but the man who owned the finished washing sitting in the machine. But not just any man. Oh no, diary. A fucking BODYBUILDER!! My jaw almost dropped to the floor when he walked in. Because of where I was sitting, I could only see him from the back initially. He was about six foot tall and built like a brick fucking shit house. A huge barn door back stretched out a black hoodie with the words "DEANO'S GYM" written on the back. Deano’s is a local hardcore bodybuilding gym. If a bodybuilder were to hail from Brighton, he'd almost be guaranteed to have trained there. Two gigantic orbs of ass meat were stretching his black shorts, making up one of the biggest and most perfectly round arses I have ever seen on a man. And on the lower part of his legs sat two ridiculously huge and developed calves. Every single person in the laundrette looked up at the sight of this monstrous bodybuilder waddling through the shop. When he was done throwing his washing into a bag, and finally freeing up the machine, he turned to head for the door, and that's when I managed to get a view of him from the front. Ho. Lee. Fucking. Shit! Well, my eyes went straight to the top of his enormous chest. Peeking out of the top of his gym hoodie zipper, I could just see the top of two plates of thick muscle, separated by a deep groove in between. Other than his shins and his thick bull neck, it was, sadly, the only glimpse of flesh I got to see. But something else more than made up for the that. Now able to see the muscle monster’s face, I could see that he was exceptionally fucking sexy in the looks department. Undeniably British and extremely masculine, but with a hint of boyish charm, I guessed he was no older than his early thirties. His hair was styled into a trendy quiff, but shaved really short at the sides. His complexion, while not quite competition bronzed, was more tanned than the average British man. Even for July. He strolled out of the door with his focus straight ahead, completely ignoring the gawps and stares of every average sized person in the launderette. The way he walked, the way he looked, everything about him just exuded this incredible confidence, that sat just below that fine line which crossed into arrogance. The whole scene was incredibly surreal, not to mention insanely horny. This ginormous sized, juiced up, muscle bull casually strolling through the run down launderette I frequented on an almost weekly bases. FUCK!! So, you're probably now thinking that that's the end of the story? The reason for my overexcitement at the beginning of this diary entry? An awesome and horny muscle sighting involving a huge, gorgeous bodybuilder?! WRONG!! So, with the washing machine previously used by the muscle beast now freed up, I dumped my clothes in there without really paying much attention to what I was doing; my mind still pre-occupied with thoughts of the absurdly sexy, big bummed gorilla I'd just unexpectedly encountered. An hour later, and still on a high from the muscle sighting, I was throwing my now washed clothes into one of the launderette 's tumble dryers when I suddenly noticed something tangled up in my washing which made my heart jump into my fucking throat! In amongst my wet towels and work shirts, I could see something foreign, blue, bright and shiny, and I knew, in an instant, exactly what it was. You know that scene in Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory, where Charlie Bucket opens the bar of chocolate and gets a glimpse of the shiny golden ticket? Well now I know exactly how Charlie felt. I reached my hand into the dryer, and tentatively pulled on the blue, shiny fabric, just enough to confirm that, mixed up with my washing, was a pair of genuine bodybuilder’s posing trunks! FUCK!! I shut the dryer door, put the spin on and sat back down in the bench; grinning like crazy and barely able to contain my excitement. The gorgeous Deano’s Gym attending muscle bull had accidentally left a pair of his posing trunks in the machine, and I had clearly not noticed them when I'd popped my washing in after him. Of course, the right thing to do in this situation would have been to hand the stray garments in. And normally I would have. But this was no normal situation. And these were no ordinary garments. These were fucking posers! Actual posers from an actual fucking bodybuilder. The thing that turned me on, only second to the type of roided freaks and monsters who wore them on stage. My dick had started to stir and grow the second I clapped eyes on the blue material, and had grown further the moment my fingers had made contact with the fabric. Fuck! I'd actually touched a pair of shiny posers!! FUCK!! I was actually now potentially in possession of a pair for of shiny posers! Triple fucking FUCK! Unless the bodybuilder came back to retrieve them before the dryer stopped, of course. And then I had an image of the muscle bull storming back into the launderette, checking the machine, frantically looking around and approaching the old dear who worked there looking for his missing posing. But such an event did not occur and, before I knew it, my dryer had stopped and my washing was done. There was no way I was going to hand the trunks in, not least of all because I couldn't think of anything more embarrassing than handing a pair of bright blue posers to the lovely, but slightly batty, old woman working there. I could have left them in the dryer I guess. That would have been the second most moralistic thing to do. But I didn't. Because I knew that if I did, I would always regret it. So I did what any sane muscle addict with a rampant love for tiny, glute hugging posing trunks would have done. I scooped my washing from the dryer into my bag, making sure that no item had been left behind. Whilst heading to the door, a man sitting on the bench gave me a curious look, a little like I was a crazy person, because I couldn't wipe the smirk off my face or hide the elation I was feeling knowing that in my bag was a pair of the thinly stripped, super shiny posing trunks of a gorgeous, roid munching competitive bodybuilder. JESUS. FUCKING. CHRIST. The whole walk home I was absolutely buzzing. I kept thinking about what was in my bag at that precise moment, intertwined with my boxer shorts and t-shirts. I couldn't fucking wait to get home and examine the posers further. The moment that came and I was stood in my bedroom with my washing bag placed on the bed, my heart was pounding like crazy. It was madness! How could an item of clothing stir such intense feelings in me? I rummaged through the bag and, once again, my dick began to swell and my excitement grew when my fingers and eyes were met with the shiny blue posing trunk material. Retrieving the freshly washed trunks from the bag I held them up in front of me and just revelled in the horniness and amazingness of what I was holding in my hands. They looked even shinier than they had from the tumble dryer. It sounds crazy - I had seen so many pictures of videos of bodybuilders wearing posing trunks, but never, ever did I imagine that they'd be so shiny in real life. Or that the fabric would feel so good in my fingertips. I ran my hands over the thick, shiny pouch, my fingertips up and down the thin, wiry straps, flipped them around and felt the blue material which made up the back. I suddenly had an image of the muscle bull I'd so brilliantly seen earlier that day waddling towards me in the launderette, hitting a monstrous crab most muscular, tanned up to shit and wearing these very posers and my fully erect cock juddered furiously in my boxers. I don't know why I did what I did next. I bought the trunk pouch to my nose and, bringing the material to my face, I took a big sniff of the shiny fabric. Predictably, I was hit with the smell of fabric conditioner. But there was something else hidden there too - the incredibly horny scent of the material itself, which no doubt would have been stronger, sexier and more intense when the muscle bull had bought them brand new. I wanted more than anything to take my jeans and boxers off. To work the trunks up my regular sized, non muscular legs and nestle my throbbing cock into the shiny blue pouch. But something stopped me. The knowledge that they weren't really mine. Somehow, it just didn't feel right. Instead, I just I lay the trunks on my bed and marvelled at the beauty and all out fucking sexiness of them. A pair of bodybuilders posing trunks. Brighter, shinier and hornier than I could ever have imagined. Yours, Oscar Grimes (sort of proprietor of tiny, shiny posing trunks - FUCK!)
  8. dw2098lj

    The Car Salesman - Chapter 2

    Chapter 2 With every step and every breath in of the cold winter air I felt as if a spell was lifting. My attraction to Karl and fixation on his huge muscles and enormous cock was being replaced with sheer disbelief at what had just happened. Slowly my thoughts were becoming my own again as my mind raced through the events of the last couple of hours. How had I as a straight man, who’d never had any interest in other men, let myself be used by that gym-rat, the epitome of everything I despised? As I turned the key in the front door of my house and heard the lock click open I came to a sudden realisation. I had been drugged. It was the only explanation I could think of to explain the bizarre events of today. Somehow Karl had fed me some illegal substance which had an abnormal and extreme effect on me. But how had he done it? I’d not had anything to eat or drink whilst I was there and to be honest the effects had been almost immediate, pretty much from the start of our encounter. It was then, sat in the dark on the sofa in my living room, that I remembered the strange but seductive scent coming off Karl that I’d noticed as soon as I met him. Still dazed from the afternoon, I could almost hear the cogs of my brains turning over, trying to connect the dots. Finally, something clicked and I remembered the strange looking bottle, “Alpha Scent”, which I’d glimpsed in Karl’s desk. Yes, that was it! Clearly this scent had some pheromones or something in it that caused extreme desire in whoever smelt it. Ridiculous as it sounded, it was the only possible explanation I could come up with. The longer I sat there on the sofa, the more my confusion and embarrassment were replaced with anger. Luckily for me, my wife wasn’t due home from work for 2 hours – I needed a plan. *** Two days later I was sat outside Karl’s office, waiting to pick up my new car. My heart was racing at the plan I’d concocted but I was confident that it would work, having spent several hours over the last few days perfecting it. A few minutes after I arrived, Karl’s office door opened and an attractive woman in her early 40s left. I could tell from her harassed look and the fact that her blouse wasn’t buttoned up correctly that she had just been subjected to the “Karl” treatment. The huge man himself appeared in the doorway a few seconds later, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, covered in a sheen of sweat from his most recent workout. “Give me two minutes Joe,” he called, grabbing a towel from behind the door and heading down the corridor to where I guessed the showers were. I nodded in reply, glad that Karl clearly had a strict routine between clients, something that my plan relied on. As soon as the shower room door had clicked shut I leapt up, pleased that there were no other staff members around (for obvious reasons Karl’s office was away from everyone else). I opened the door to Karl’s office before sneaking in and shutting the door quietly behind me. I hurried over to his desk, not knowing how literal Karl’s “two minutes” would be, and opened the top draw. I picked up the strange bottle, turning it over to read the label on the back: “Instructions: Use 2 sprays for instant results lasting 24 hours. Re-apply after showering”. There was no mention of what the “instant results” were but I could have a good guess. Conscious of the time, I pulled two bottles out of my pocket, one an empty aftershave bottle, the other filled with water that I’d dyed purple to match the fluid in the “Alpha Scent” bottle. I quickly poured the contents of the “Alpha Scent” into my empty aftershave bottle which I put safely in my pocket. I then substituted it with the dyed water from my other bottle before screwing the top back on and replacing the strange bottle in Karl’s top drawer. The colour wasn’t an exact match so I’d have to hope Karl wouldn’t pay too much attention to it. It was then I noticed something. In my rush to get into his office and steal his treasured secret, I hadn’t noticed that Karl’s masculine scent still filled the room, even though he was no longer there. I found myself inhaling deeply, yet again allowing his aroma to fill my head. Images of his full, thick chest and bulging veiny biceps immediately flashed across my mind. I started to imagine the feeling of his big manly cock deep in my tight ass, to feel him plough me with all his strength and power. All thoughts of my carefully worked out plan left my head as I noticed that my cock was rock hard and throbbing. I unbuttoned my jeans, letting them fall to the floor before pushing down my tight boxer briefs, letting out my aching cock. I wrapped my hand around it, jerking slowly as I thought about running my hands over his swollen chest and ripped abs. I was excited to think that Karl would be back at any second and I wanted to be ready to please him. I found myself getting into position on his desk as I had the other day, face down, ass ready for him to slide his cock in as soon as he came through the door. Suddenly the blinds rattled and a gust of wind blew in through the open window. It hit me straight in the face, clearing my head and allowing just a second of rational thought. That was all I needed – I immediately jumped off Karl’s desk, pulled up my boxers and jeans and ran out the door, all without taking another breath. My heart was racing as I settled myself in the chair outside Karl’s office just as the door to the shower room opened down the corridor. Karl looked pristine yet again, freshly showered and in clean smart clothes, a confident smile on his face. Thankfully the feelings of lust had past as quickly as they’d started now that I was out of the confined environment of Karl’s office and I was able to focus once again. “Right Joe, let me just get your keys and we’ll have you sorted in no time,” Karl said as he passed me, entering the office I’d only seconds ago vacated myself. I was sure I’d left everything as it should be but still my heart was racing. I suspected that Karl would be re-applying the “Alpha Scent” after his shower but would he notice straight away the swap I’d made? My entire plan hinged on this moment. A minute later Karl came out, his confident smirk plastered to his face as usual, the keys to my new car in one hand, the final agreement in the other. “Let’s go out to your car then Joe,” Karl said, with no acknowledgement of the events of the other day but more importantly, no evidence that he’d noticed the swap at all. “Sure thing Karl,” I said, trying to sound more relaxed than I felt. As I followed behind, I tentatively inhaled, but there was nothing, no trace of the alluring odour and my head remained clear. When we’d reached the car, Karl showed me around the outside again before we got in. Once inside, I was aware yet again how much space Karl occupied but it didn’t seem to affect me as it had done the other day. “Well Joe, here’s the key… I just need one more signature from you,” Karl said, handing me the final agreement. As I signed, I noticed that Karl had his arm up on the window again and was casually flexing his biceps as he looked across at me. I smiled as I handed the agreement back to him. “Right Karl, I’ll be going then if that’s everything,” I said confidently. “Oh yeah, erm, sure Joe,” clearly surprised by my lack of interest in his flexing muscles, “unless you want to go for round two,” he added, attempting a deep seductive voice which just sounded hollow to me without the effects of the “Alpha Scent”. He rested one of his giant hands on the equally giant bulge in his trousers but even this didn’t affect me. “No thank Karl,” I said, still trying to stay at ease, “I’ll be going now. Thanks for your help.” “Erm…ah…well, no problem, Joe,” Karl said as he prised himself out of the car, clearly confused at my resistance. “See you around Karl,” I said through the open window as I started to pull away. As I left the forecourt I smiled as I caught sight of the giant muscle man in my rear-view mirror, a look of intense confusion on his face. Little did he know it was only just beginning. *** Twenty minutes later I was standing in my bedroom at home, the bottle of aftershave, now containing the “Alpha Scent” in my hand. I hesitated, torn between sensibility and the desire to try it on myself before my wife got home and see what effect it had on her. We’d been trying to think of ways to liven up our sex life and I hoped this would be the answer, causing her to experience the same indescribable lust for me that I’d experienced for Karl. But then again, I didn’t really know what the true effects of this spray were and I suspected it definitely wasn’t legal. In the end my desire and curiosity won out and before I knew what I was doing I’d squirted two sprays on my neck. The pure “Alpha Scent” smelt great, kind of woody but other than that there was no noticeable change in me. I started to feel a bit stupid as I stood there and suspected that I had just gone to extreme lengths to steel what was essentially just a bottle of aftershave. At that moment though a strange warm feeling started spreading from my neck, where I had sprayed the “Alpha Scent”, down into my chest. It felt as though my shoulders and chest were pulsing with energy, the warm feeling spreading out into my arms too. Suddenly, I noticed that my normally loose-fitting blue t-shirt felt a bit tight around my chest and I looked down to see that my chest was actually starting to swell. “Fuck, I’m growing,” I said out loud, unable to help myself. I watched and felt as my biceps started to expand too, pulsing as they got bigger, huge veins popping up under the skin. My arms felt like they were surging with power and soon they were straining the sleeves of my small top. Without even thinking, almost on instinct, I brought both arms up into a double biceps, flexing hard the muscles which until now had been tiny and pathetic. I heard the loud RIP as both sleeves split down the seam, bursting open to allow my biceps and triceps to continue growing. “This feels fucking amazing,” I called out, my voice noticeably deeper and more masculine, as I continued to flex and pump my biceps. The warm feeling had now reached my groin and quads and the most amazing sensation hit me, like I was having a continuous orgasm. Waves of pleasure flooded through my veins as I looked down to see that the bulge in my jeans was swelling slowly, pushing out as I felt my cock grow. My expanding quads were quickly filling out my jeans too and I could hear the material creaking as it struggled to contain them. My attention was then pulled back to my still swelling chest, which was now way too big for the size ‘S’ T shirt. My back too was expanding, pulling the shirt even tighter and stopping me from being able to breathe properly. “GGGRRRRRRRRRR,” I roared as I reached up to the neck of the t shirt, pulling it straight down and hearing the fabric tear as I ripped it off in one go. “FUCK, I’m a beast,” I screamed, looking down at my exposed torso, as I threw the shredded top on the floor. Beneath my swollen pecs I could see the little bit of body fat I had disappearing, exposing tight ripped 8-pack abs which pushed up like cobble stones. I ran one of my hands down them, enjoying the feeling of ripped muscle under my fingers. Beneath my tiny, tight waist, my quads were still growing, feeling so tight in my jeans that I knew that I needed to get them off soon. No sooner had I thought this I heard another rip and realised it was too late. My huge quads had torn the fabric on either side of my jeans and I could see the exposed muscle underneath. I flexed each of my humungous quads in turn, extending the tear on either side with colossal grunts. I then reached down, grabbing the waist band with my two hands and pulling down to complete the job, ripping my jeans off and throwing them on the floor. “I’m so STRONG,” I roared, unable to hold back as I started flexing, the growth now slowing and the warm feeling starting to subside. I looked at myself in the mirror on the wall – I now had the body of a serious weight-lifter, not quite as big as Karl, but still pretty huge. My face too looked more masculine, chiselled, with a sharp jaw-line with a light dusting of stubble. My torso had a covering of dark, manly hair that had sprung up in the last two minutes on my previously hairless body. The bulge in my boxers was verging on obscene as my rock hard cock tented the fabric. I quickly pulled off my boxers, feeling as my much bigger cock slapped up against my abs. “FUCK,” I moaned, as I looked down at my throbbing cock which was at least 8” long, about 2” longer and much thicker than before my growth spurt. A steady stream of pre was leaking out as I continued to flex in front of the mirror, appreciating my new muscle body. I ran my hands over my pumped chest, amazed at the weight of my pecs and noticing the deep defined valley that ran between them. I flexed each bicep in turn, trying to wrap the other hand round each mound of marble-like muscle to no avail. The huge veins which had popped up during my growth were still there and snaked like a road map down my bulging biceps and forearms. Still flexing, I wrapped one hand around my thick cock and started jerking, feeling the pleasure quickly rising in me. “MMMM, you’re a beast Joe,” I moaned to myself, so turned on by my own muscles. I couldn’t stop running my other hand over my torso as I jerked, marvelling in the feel of the solid muscles now strapped onto my previously weedy frame. Only minutes ago I’d been a tiny 33yo, with a bit of a beer-gut. Now I was a total alpha muscle stud. This thought drove me on closer to climax as I let out low, deep moans and grunts. I jerked my cock faster, still flexing as I watched in the mirror. “Oh fuck,” I moaned, “I’m gonna fucking shoot…”. I worked myself up more and more, relishing the new length and girth of my cock and the sticky pre-leaking from it. Huge grunts escaped my mouth as my massive chest heaved with each breath drawn in. Within seconds I felt my full, aching balls tighten and I had nearly collapsed to the floor in the most intense orgasm of my life, surpassing even when I’d been with Karl the other day. It was like my whole body exploded in pleasure, each of my newly engorged muscles flooding with an indescribable sensation. “AAHHHHHHHH,” I screamed in ecstasy as rivers of warm cum erupted from my huge cock, splashing over the mirror and floor, the final few spurts dribbling down my huge ripped quads. I gazed at the sight in the mirror – I was amazed at the huge hunk of muscle standing in front of me, his colossal chest heaving over tight ripped abs and an enormous thick cock still leaking cum onto the floor. I couldn’t believe this muscle stud was me. I ran my hands up over my cobbled abs and thick chest, feeling sweat and cum mingling together over the rock solid muscle underneath, before falling backwards onto the bed in blissful exhaustion.
  9. dw2098lj

    The Car Salesman - Chapter 1

    This is the first story I've posted so go easy on me! It takes a while to get going but hopefully you'll enjoy it - I've got a few ideas to take this further The Car Salesman It was the worst possible timing. Two weeks into my new job and a month before Christmas my decrepit car had breathed its last. The stupid worthless piece of shit, which had caused me endless pain over the last 2 years, had finally given up on life. It was for this reason that I was making my way across the showroom forecourt for my meeting with Karl, the car salesman. I had an increasing sense of nervousness as I got towards the door which in my mind was entirely justified. You see, I am of the opinion that Car Salesmen will occupy the same part of hell as estate agents and lawyers and I was fully expecting to spend the next 2 hours being lied to, tricked and conned out of my hard-earned money. These thoughts were broken by the sight of the man-mountain waiting for me in the doorway. It turned out that Karl was about 6’2 and built like a tank, with I guessed way over 250lb of solid muscle to his name. He was wearing a long-sleeve tight white shirt with an accompanying tie and equally skin-tight dark blue trousers. Great. A gym-obsessed arrogant bastard as well. I could feel my stress level rising even more. “You must be Joe,” he called loudly, when I was about 10 feet away, smiling broadly. I took in his masculine face, dark hair and lightly tanned skin. He must have been a couple (or more) years younger than me, maybe mid-20s. “Y-yes, that’s me,” I replied stupidly, immediately cross with myself for showing any sign of weakness in front of this overconfident gym-jock. He reached out his hand and I shook it, trying not to wince at the strength of his grip. I noticed that his huge manly hand completely engulfed my own and I could feel the callouses on his palm from the many hours he spent lifting weights. “Come on in, we’ll get started,” he said, finally letting go of my aching hand as he turned to lead me into the building. I followed behind, noticing how wide his back was, pulling his tight shirt to the limits, but tapering down to an impossibly small waist. I was irrationally irritated, never having been interested in lifting weights myself, and always slightly annoyed with people who did. I just didn’t get it. Travelling in Karl’s wake, I was also struck by the scent coming off him. It was oddly sweet, nutty but undeniably masculine, likely a combination of aftershave and his own natural smell. I pulled myself back from the brink. Why the fuck was I noticing these things?! Once inside Karl’s spacious office, I settled myself in the comfy chair in front of his desk and watched as he walked round to sit opposite me. I found my eyes tracing down from his chiselled jaw-line, a slight hint of 5 O’clock shadow there, to his huge neck. The muscles there (traps, I heard the distant voice of my A-level Biology teacher saying) pushed out the buttoned up collar of his shirt to an extreme. It was a wonder he managed to do the buttons up at all. I then took in his unbelievably wide shoulders before focussing on his chest. His pecs jutted out from his body, pulling the fabric of his shirt tight so that there were gaps between the buttons in the middle. I could see a glimpse of smooth tanned skin underneath. As Karl moved and gestured his muscles flexed and relaxed under the surface of his clothes, like an elaborate dance played out for me. It was hypnotising watching his biceps pull the sleeves of his shirt tight, desperate to break free with every movement. Suddenly I realised that Karl was talking (well of course he was) and probably had been for some time. What the fuck was I thinking? I’d not listened to a word he’d said for a good 5 minutes. I tried to drag myself back to the present, away from my thoughts about this gym-rats bulging muscles when I noticed something even stranger than my distraction. I was rock-hard. My not-unimpressive cock was aching painfully in my tight jeans, throbbing with lust. Now I was properly confused. Well, a bit more than that and many other things besides. I was straight I told myself…married…and happily so. I’d never even looked at a guy like this before let alone got hard over one. But I couldn’t ignore it and the bulge in my jeans wouldn’t let me deny it. I tried to calm down, to re-focus my attention back on what Karl was saying, desperate to make sure I wasn’t going to be conned. Unfortunately, Karl chose that moment to lean back in his chair, lifting up both arms and placing them behind his head, the epitome of confidence and control. This movement caused his biceps to flex, the tight fabric of his shirt like a second skin on his bulging muscles. My cock ached even more as I realised that if he flexed hard he would easily rip the thin fabric. What the fuck was happening to me?! Next, and totally inexplicably, my eyes were drawn downwards. Now that Karl was leaning backwards, away from his desk, an obscene bulge in his tight blue trousers was revealed. It was colossal, like the proverbial python in his pants, the outline of his cock snaking down his left trouser leg. Suddenly I had a vision of ripping off those quad-hugging trousers, unleashing the beast underneath and taking his thick long cock in my…. Wooaaah! Where the fuck was I going with that? Why, aged 33 was I suddenly thinking about sucking another guy’s cock for the first time?! Suddenly Karl was standing up, snapping me out of my reverie. “… so are you ready to go then Joe?” I heard him say, clearly repeating himself. “R-ready?” I replied, trying to gain some control. “For your test drive,” he said, the look on his face suggesting he thought I was either a bit slow or very unwell. “Oh yeah, sure,” I hurried to reply, standing up as well. Karl was very close to me and again I noticed the strange, intoxicating scent coming off him and I couldn’t help but inhale deeply. This was a big mistake as it made me feel dizzy, my entire mind filled with his masculine smell and also visions of Karl ripping off his smart work clothes to reveal mounds of bulging muscle underneath. I nearly had to sit straight back down again but somehow managed to keep it together. “Great, well follow me and we’ll go for a spin,” Karl said, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil going on in my head. With that, he walked out of his office and I followed on behind, my eyes feasting on his solid, round glutes, jutting out below that tight waist. I noticed that his quads were so big he walked with his legs slightly apart, almost awkwardly, something that 20 minutes ago I would have found totally ridiculous. Now, however, his sheer size was driving me crazy, irrational lust pumping through me. We settled into the car, well I settled whilst Karl squeezed himself into the passenger seat, clearly far too big for the small car that I was intending to buy. “I’d need a car with a bit more head and leg room myself,” he joked, at ease. “But this’ll be perfect for you Joe”. I laughed awkwardly, uneasy at the comparison and as much as I tried to deny it, unbelievably turned on. “Right, take it away Joe. Turn right off the forecourt and I’ll direct you,” Karl continued and I noticed for the first time how deep his voice was. A strange juxtaposition to his boyish face and smooth skin. I gently eased the car away, forcing myself to focus; ideally I wanted to get through the next twenty minutes without killing us both. To my credit (and surprise) it went well to start with. I concentrated on the car, examining its acceleration, ride and general comfort as we took it on a drive around town. Karl kept up a near constant stream of conversation in the way that only people trying to sell you something can. I picked out the odd word but was mainly focussing on the car and not the young behemoth next to me. We came to a red light and I brought the car to stop, setting the handbrake. Karl was still talking and in order not to be rude I looked across, a near-fatal mistake. My cock, which had somewhat deflated during the drive, immediately jumped and started to grow again as I saw Karl’s arm rested up on the window. He was gripping the handle above the window which meant his bicep was gently flexed. From this angle I could see how much the fabric was struggling to contain the rock solid muscle underneath. I imagined trying to wrap my hands round it – I knew they wouldn’t reach – and wondered what it would feel like to try and squeeze his biceps. Inexplicably I found my gaze falling southwards again, past Karl’s mammoth pecs and further down to the bulge in his trousers. It was an amazing sight, his thick cock tenting the material obscenely, making my mouth water with lust. I had an urge to unzip his fly, pull out that beast and suck on his hot big cock head. I wanted to gradually slide more and more of his thick hard man cock deep into my mouth, tasting his pre in the back of my throat, before feeling him shoot his huge load in me. “Joe…Joe…JOE! The light’s green,” I heard Karl’s voice cutting through. I immediately looked up and back towards the road, noticing that Karl had a slight smirk on his face. Shit. He’d seen me staring straight at his huge junk probably with a look of deep desire on my face if my thoughts were anything to go by. I jerked the car into gear, pulling off and nearly stalling in my haste but Karl didn’t give any further clues that he’d seen me staring at him. Ten minutes later, as we got out of the car and made our way back to Karl’s office, my head was racing. I’m not gay, I told myself over and over. This was ridiculous – I’d never had any thoughts about other guys, not like I was thinking about Karl. My mind kept flicking back to the way his over-developed muscles made his clothes strain, the way they flexed and swelled with every movement and not least about the huge bulge resting between his tree-trunk quads. I imagined being on my knees, his huge thick man cock sliding between my lips… The door slamming behind me snapped me out of my racing thoughts. We were back in Karl’s office, me sat opposite him across the desk again. “So Joe, what do you think?” Karl asked, pushing a contract across the table, “ready to sign on the dotted line?”. I hesitated. I really hadn’t been paying enough attention to make this decision, far too distracted by the muscle beast sat opposite me. “Erm, well I’m not sure Karl,” I replied feebly. “I think I’ll need some time to think about it.” “Time is not something I have Joe - I can only offer you this deal today,” Karl said, to the point and confident. “I just don’t know Karl, maybe I can call you later to decide?” I attempted to negotiate, desperate to get out of this place and restore some normality to my thoughts. “Hmm, that won’t work for me Joe. But perhaps I can offer you something to sweeten the deal,” Karl replied, a smirk on his face. He got up out of his chair, huge quads straining the fabric of his trousers, and walked round the desk to shut the blinds across the windows. I watched, confused, as he then walked behind me and I heard a soft click as he locked the office door. What was going on, I thought for the millionth time today. “I’ve seen the way you look at me Joe,” Karl said, typically straight to the point, his voice deep and seductive. He’d returned to stand in front of me, one foot up on the desk so that his huge quads and obscene bulge were right in front of my face. “You can have all of this if you want,” he added, gently grabbing his bulge in one hand and running a big hand across his chest with the other. “You just need to sign for it…” “I-I d-don’t know what you mean…” I stammered pathetically, suddenly more nervous than I’d been in my entire life. “I-I’m not Gay,” I added with no confidence at all. “Sure, you’re not Joe. But who wouldn’t want some of this?” Karl purred as he undid his tie, discarding it on the floor. I watched in amazement as he began to slowly unbutton his shirt, revealing bit by bit the deep groove between his two huge pec muscles. I wanted to scream at him, to tell him to stop it, to run for the door but found I couldn’t move or speak, completely transfixed by what was going on in front of me. “I can see you want me Joe…why deny it?”. Karl was still smiling, utterly confident. “Just admit to me Joe…you can’t resist this muscle body…you’re hard for me…I can see,” he added, looking at the bulge in my jeans. He was right – I was harder than I’d ever been in my life before and he knew it. My heart was racing, pure lust flooding my veins as thoughts of this giant hung muscle stud filled my head. “Yes…” I whispered feebly, without thinking. “Yes, what?” Karl replied, his shirt now completely undone. I had a glimpse of his ripped abs, what looked like an 8-pack, sitting beneath the huge overhand of his pecs. “Yes, I want you,” I said, knowing deep down it was true. Karl smiled broadly in response, starting to run his hands over his exposed chest and abs, leaning back seductively so that they flexed tightly. “Well you know what to do then Joe…just sign on the line,” Karl said, closing in on the deal, one of his hands drifting downwards to grab the thick bulge in his trousers again. My eyes followed his exploring hands, imagining that it was mine tracing the outline of his abs, feeling the weight of those enormous pecs and heavy cock. “Please…Karl…” I let out involuntarily, lust now totally taking over. “Let me…” “Let you what, Joe?” teased Karl, clearly enjoying his effect over me. “Let me feel your muscles…flex for me…I need to…” I moaned, the words spilling out as I lost control. “You mean flex these guns?” Karl asked, bringing his arms up to pull a double biceps. He flexed hard, his guns exploding, the thin fabric of his shirt pulled so tight over the peaked mounds of muscle. He gently pumped his guns, flexing harder each time as the muscles filled with blood until eventually I heard a small ripping sound as the seam began to pull apart. “Oh fuck,” I exclaimed, amazed by his strength and power. “You like that straight boy?” Karl said, still flexing as visible gaps formed on both sides of his shirt sleeves, exposing the pumped muscle underneath. “The straight guy is hungry for this Muscle God and his Huge Cock isn’t he…?” “Oh fuck yes,” I replied, giving in. “I need you…please…”. “You can have me Joe…all of me…you just have to sign the contract,” Karl replied, unrelenting. “How can I trust that you’ll keep your side of the bargain,” I asked, one final part of my logical self still present. “You can’t Joe…but isn’t this worth the risk?” he replied, gesturing at his hulking frame and then starting to undo his belt. With that I was totally overcome, all logic leaving me. I reached for the contract, pulling it across the desk and scrawling my signature on the dotted line before I had time to change my mind. I then looked up to see Karl standing right in front of me, a huge smirk on his face, his belt undone and his trousers falling to the floor. As he stepped out of them I took in the sight of his colossal bulge, barely kept in by the sexy white jock strap he was wearing, the outline of his thick cock clearly visible. With his trousers off, he took one further step closer to me, straddling my legs, one of his tree-trunk quads on either side and his magnificent chest and abs right in front of my face. Karl was so close to me that his masculine scent was intoxicating, rolling off him and causing me to inhale deeply. “Looks like taking that risk has paid off Joe…” Karl said, his deep voice incredibly seductive. I couldn’t think of a reply as Karl reached down, taking both of my hands and placing them on his vast chest. I ran my hands over and between each pec muscle, feeling the solid mass underneath as he flexed hard. I then reached up to push his shirt off his shoulders, wanting to see all of him. The shirt got stuck on his massive upper arms and Karl had to help by pulling it off and throwing it to the floor. I continued my worship of this studs upper body, my hands exploring his chest and shoulders before moving onto his biceps. He pulled a double bicep pose again and I reached up to put my hands on each mound of muscle. They were rock hard beneath my fingers, like marble, with barely any body fat and as much as I tried to squeeze I couldn’t budge them at all. “Fuck yeah,” Karl growled. “Look how strong I am…” As he flexed his guns, huge veins popped up, snaking across his paper-thin skin like a road map. Fuck this stud was ripped. Still holding onto his biceps, I leaned in closer, licking up the groove between his cobbled abs. I looked up and saw the amazing overhang of his chest and nearly shot a load right there. Karl was looking down at me smiling, Godly and powerful. “Get on your knees,” Karl ordered, taking a step back. I didn’t hesitate, dropping onto the floor in front of him. “It’s time for you to realise your potential as my cock whore Joe,” he added, looking down at me. “Mmm yes Sir, please make this straight boy your cock whore,” I moaned, desperate for him, immediately submitting with no questions asked. “Take off my jock,” Karl barked. “Don’t touch my cock yet…” Obediently I reached forward, taking the straps of his jock and starting to pull it down, revealing inch by inch of his thick cock, until it was completely exposed. I realised that Karl’s jock had been deceptive, hiding some of the size of his enormous manhood. His soft uncut cock was at least 6 inches and thick too, resting on the two globes of his big balls. A Greek God would have been happy to have a cock and balls like his. Karl stepped out of the jock before reaching down and picking it up. Before I knew what was happening he had it pressed in front of my mouth, holding the back of my head to stop me pulling away. “Smell it straight boy,” Karl ordered. My initial reaction had been to resist but within an instant an animalistic instinct had taken over and I was inhaling deeply. The same scent that was rolling off Karl filled my head but with the added musk of his cock making my head spin and my heart race. My mouth was watering and almost reflexively I opened it and felt as Karl pushed the jock into my mouth. I could now taste him too and for the second time had to try hard not to shoot my load there and then. “Good boy,” Karl purred as he removed the jock from my mouth, discarding it on the floor with the rest of his clothes. With the taste of his cock lingering on my tongue, I was desperate to have the real thing in my mouth, hungry to suck on his huge man meat. “Suck on my cock, whore…just the head to start,” Karl ordered, clearly reading the desperation in my eyes. I leaned in, resting my hands on his thick quads as I wrapped my lips around his cock, sucking his cock head in my mouth. It was better than I could ever imagine, making me feel more complete than I’d ever been in my life. His man meat tasted amazing as I sucked, bobbing my head back and forwards on his huge cock head, swirling my tongue round, hungry to please him. It wasn’t long before I felt his cock starting to grow in my mouth and Karl started to let out low guttural moans. “Mmmmm…fuck yeah that feels good cock boy.” I looked up to see Karl throwing his head back, eyes shut, arms flexed above his head, groaning in pleasure. Without being asked I started to take more and more of his cock into my mouth, as if I’d done this a thousand times before. He was now fully hard and I guessed around 10 inches, his thick girth forcing my lips apart as I felt his cock hit the back of my throat. Karl moaned even more deeply, grabbing the back of my head and starting to thrust his cock more and more into my mouth. “Fuck, this straight boy loves my cock,” Karl growled, thrusting faster, oblivious as I tried to control my gag reflex. I was so hard knowing that he was using my mouth solely for his pleasure, with no concerns for me. Suddenly, Karl pulled his cock out of my mouth, leaving me feeling empty. I tried to lean forwards and take his manhood back in my mouth but Karl held me back, slapping me on the side of my face with his heavy tool. “Stand up, slut,” he ordered, always in control. I obeyed instantly. “Take off your jeans and pants,” he added. I did as he asked, taking off my t shirt too for good measure, both of us now fully naked and standing opposite each other. The comparison between us was humiliating. Without warning Karl grabbed me by both arms and lifted me up, his huge biceps bulging but dealing with my weight with ease. He put me down next to his desk before pushing me over so that I was face down, bent at the waist with my feet on the floor. With a click of realisation I realised too late where this was going. “No Karl…stop…I can’t…” I whimpered, trying to move but unable as he had kept one of his strong hands resting on my back. “Yes you can Joe…I know you want it,” he replied, completely relaxed. “You’re too big Karl….I’ve never done it before,” I pleaded, a sense of fear rising in me. “Don’t worry Joe, we’ll work up to it,” he said and I could hear the smirk on his voice. There was a sucking sound before I felt his wet finger pressing on my tight hole which immediately tightened in response. “Just relax Joe, I know you want me in you,” Karl murmured. I tried to relax, knowing it would be worse if I didn’t. He pressed his finger against my hole again but this time my ass relaxed and I felt it slide into me. After the initial flash of pain I was left with the most amazing feeling as Karl started to move his finger in and out. “Oh fuck,” I moaned into the desk. Karl worked my ass harder and then he hit a spot in me that made my whole body shiver, pure pleasure throwing through me. I let out a long moan and then had an epiphany, realising that his cock in me instead of his finger would magnify this feeling a thousand-fold. “More…”I begged simply, now desperate to have my ass filled. I felt as he slid his finger out of my hole followed by another sucking sound as he got another finger ready. He then pressed both against my hungry hole and I groaned as he entered me again. My ass felt amazing as he began finger-fucking me with two fingers. I was moaning over and over in pleasure as Karl kept up a constant stream of dirty-talk. “You’re my little straight cock whore aren’t you?” he taunted. I knew it was true and moaned as he started to fuck me harder and faster, pushing my ass back so that he would enter me even more. Soon I was getting used to the feeling of his fingers and was yet again hungry for more. “Please Karl…I need your cock in me,” I begged. “Say that again slut boy,” he ordered in reply, pulling his fingers out of my ass, leaving it feeling empty. “I need that huge muscle cock in me…..please…..” I moaned, still lying face-down on the desk. I heard as Karl rummaged in a draw for something…lube I hoped. “Mmmm yes you do Joe, you need this huge man cock in your tight straight ass,” he teased. “What does that make you Joe,” he added. “Oh fuck I’m you’re Cock Whore,” I practically shouted. “I’m a slut for your muscle and Huge Cock…please FUCK ME”. With that I felt the enormous head of Karl’s cock pressing up against my hole. I moaned as he started to push forward, entering me inch by inch, the pain in my ass building as he opened it up. “Oh fuck,” I screamed, “you’re so big!”. Still he kept sliding in…how much more could there be to go?! A lot, it turned out but eventually I felt Karl’s balls resting up against my ass and knew I’d taken it all. Karl held still, letting me get used to his huge size and thick girth and slowly the pain was replaced by the most amazing pleasure I’d ever experienced. I was now complete and knew my place in the world as Karl’s cock whore. Slowly Karl started to slide his cock in and out of my tight hole, each time going a little bit further and building up speed. “Fuck…that feels amazing,” I moaned. For the first time I looked up and realised there was a mirror behind Karl’s desk reflecting what was going on behind me. Karl was holding me by the waist, his bulging guns flexing as he started to plough my ass, veins popping and a sweat developing on his wide chest and shoulders. He started to fuck me faster, letting go of my waist and bring his arms up into a double biceps as his cock still drilled into me. “Fuck yeah, look at these guns,” he roared like an animal. “They’re so FUCKING HUGE!!”. He kissed and licked each one in turn before putting his hands back on my waist. I screamed in pleasure as he pulled me back further onto his cock, feeling his amazing strength and power completely dominate me. “Oh FUCK….your cock is so BIG,” I screamed. “Own this fucking straight boy ass,” I moaned. Karl was now thrusting his cock in and out to the hilt, fast and deep, letting out loud masculine grunts as the sweat continued to pour off him. His stamina was amazing and he didn’t let up at all as he owned my virgin ass. I watched in the mirror as he flexed his chest and biceps, his abs continuously pulled tight by the fucking. After a few minutes I knew that I wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer, my cock ready to shoot a huge load over the desk despite not touching myself. “Please Karl….I need your load in me,” I begged as he continued to thrust. “Yeah slut? You want me to breed that straight ass?” he thundered. “FUCK! YEAH! Please cum in me,” I moaned. Amazingly, Karl picked up his pace even more, slamming even harder into my ass, balls slapping with each thrust. His deep masculine grunts filled the room and I knew he was getting close. “Cum in this straight boy ass,” I begged, coaxing him on and pushing my ass further back so that was as deep in me as possible. “Oh FUCK slut,” he screamed. “I’m gonna fucking…..”. I felt as his cock swelled in my ass and with a final roar he ploughed into me one last time. I felt his huge load filling me up as my own cock exploded over the desk in the most intense orgasm of my life. Karl collapsed forwards on top of me, sweat pouring off us as we both bucked and moaned from our amazing relief. The huge weight of Karl lying on top of me made the feeling even more intense and I thought I would die if it didn’t end soon. It was several minutes before our breathing began to settle to normal and I had a chance to lift my head off the desk. In the mirror I could see the huge mass of Karl resting on top of me, his massive back swelling with each breath he took. I looked embarrassingly tiny in comparison but I didn’t care, knowing that he owned me now. In my post-orgasm daze I noticed something strange out of the corner of my eye - an odd-looking purple bottle in the open drawer of Karl’s desk. It was upside down and I’d only managed to read the words “Alpha Scent” on the label before Karl’s huge harm loomed into view and the draw was slammed shut. My confusion was quickly replaced by contentment as I drifted into an easy sleep.
  10. LJackson

    Muscle Worshippers: Chapter 6 of 14

    Chapter 5 is here 6 Olly Thursday, August 28th Eat. Lift. Sleep. Repeat. I've got that written up above my bed now. I hear it in the pulsing of blood in my ears. And with that insistent beat, I feel like I can feel something else stirring, pulsing like a heartbeat. Yesterday, the Beast put a huge paw on my shoulder. I was just out of the shower, with my towel wrapped around my midriff. I was getting ready to step back into my undies and pull my jeans on and head back home to bed. Muscle is torn apart in the gym, fed in the kitchen and built in bed. 'Wait a minute, bro,' he said. 'Look in the mirror.' I turned and looked, and saw it for the first time. I saw mass. I could see it in my arms, my neck, my chest, my belly, my shoulders, my legs, the sharp ridge of my hips. You might not know it if you didn't know me, but it was like a roll of thunder in the still of the night. I could see it in my eyes, too; in my stance, in the fat veins of my arms. I could feel it with every breath I took in, I could feel a greater weight on the balls of my feet. I could feel it in that slow burning ache that never quite fades. My body is putting on muscle. Of course, next to the Beast I still looked almost girlish. It's the body of an athlete. It's powerful, it's stronger than your average guy, it's the kind of thing a popstar has, or a magazine model: it's not nearly enough. But it's a hard body. It indicates that something has begun. I'm strong enough now to start lifting real weights. And it feels like it's come out of nowhere. I'm working hard, so hard. I'm working out nearly every day, lifting free weights and kettlebells till my arms and my thighs and my core are all screaming furiously — but still this is so sudden. I see other guys in the gym working hard, guys with personal trainers, guys who were working out before I started, and they don't have what I've got. And maybe it's in the stance, the look, the fire in the belly. But it's also a fact that I am bigger than them. I've stripped my body of fat now, the little that I had. I see abs, tiny but boulder hard, when I pull on my shirt in the morning. I feel power in my delts and biceps, even when I lift my Astrophysics textbooks out of my suitcase, when I chug down that fucking disgusting protein shake. I wake up and I feel my heart pumping; at night, I feel my body reinvigorated. I want to fuck, twenty-four seven. My brother brought home his girlfriend last night. She's totally sweet and lovely, got a beautiful smile that comes straight out of her eyes. Really friendly. I was in the kitchen with Anthony, asking about her, and he's just so sweet about her. 'We're going out to loads of archaeological sites,' he told me. 'I make a packed lunch, she drives, and it's just so — comfortable. Nourishing.' 'That's great, man,' I said, watching him cook. 'You probably think we're like an old couple,' he said. 'But life's different when you're twenty-one, man. You'll see.' 'I hope not!' I said, with a big fake laugh, glancing back toward the sitting room. All I could think of was, what's she going to do for a dick inside her? Where's she going to get that from? Her boyfriend, who makes the packed lunch and chooses what motorway to use for their day out? That'll hardly touch the sides. In more than one sense. I see girls in the street and I want to go up to them and put my face in between their thighs. I want to taste them, I want to stick my tongue in deep, to drink them down. I want to listen to them lose control with pleasure. I want them to fill my senses with their sex. I want satisfaction. I was hard throughout the dinner my brother cooked. And I could see the way she was glancing at my arms when I filled her wine-glass, at my pecs when she hugged me goodbye (fuck, but they're so sensitive) that she felt the same thing. I'd never do anything against my big brother, but I could have taken her off him, like that: the filthy bitch. I've never been a big one for masturbation. I always thought it was dirty and somewhat shameful. I only ever used my laptop for my studies in the past. But last night, I shut the door carefully, and I pulled the curtains. I turned on my laptop and I searched for sex. In my underpants, the laptop resting on my crotch, pressing on my ever hardening penis. And I'm looking down at my muscle in the light of the screen. Crazy, veiny, raw stuff. I have a strange urge, more than ever, to tweak my nipples. They seem to have grown more sensitive in the last few weeks. I use both hands, thumb and forefinger. But then I feel I need another hand to take care of my dick. I'm watching a muscle guy fucking. Pornography. I never saw the appeal this stuff has. It's there to reach the bits of fantasy at the back of your mind that nobody else can get at. And there he is, older than the Beast but just about as built. And the girl is being pinned down, she's yodelling with pleasure. I reach into my pants for my dick. Here comes the surprise. The thing inside is twice as fat as it used to be. It used to be, quite frankly, a pencil, and now it's a magic marker. It feels heavy in my hand. Where my fist used to close the whole thing in, I can wrap my hand around it now and the cockhead pokes out, plus an inch or two to spare. Not just the normal kind of muscle. Somehow, the other kind of muscle is growing too. I'm enlarging all over, to scale. When my face is reflected in my laptop screen, it looks no less young, and the expression on it — so innocent. My own body is outpacing me. I stroked my new, bigger dick for a while, staring at it almost as much as I was staring at the porn. Then I decided: I'm a scientist. I need to know more. First I Googled: NATURAL COCK ENLARGEMENT and found oceans of scammy sites trying to sell me machines and yoga exercises. Then I tried MAGICAL COCK ENLARGEMENT and found all the same sites, plus a lot of stuff about magic beans and yogic chanting. I tried searching for, BIGGER MUSCLES OVERNIGHT and got diet plans and exercise videos. I tried SUDDENLY BIG MUSCLE, I HAVE A BIG COCK NOW, UNEXPECTED BIG COCK and NEW BIG COCK AND BIG MUSCLE IN THE NIGHT and got back to the porn, most of it gay, which I'm not into. I tried to focus. I was beginning to feel downhearted and dispirited, and even a little scared. Then, like a light in the dark woods, I came across a message board about muscle growth: Muscle Worshippers. I felt I needed to find out if this had happened to someone before. It's not exactly something I want to share with the Beast. I left a message, explaining my situation, took a deep breath, clicked 'send' and went to bed. I dreamed I had emailed that message to the tall guy in the library, and that I was waiting for him to reply. And then it was morning. Before I did anything, I sat down again at my laptop. There were several responses already to my query. BIG DICK LOVER: Hi DulwichBoy, it doesn't sound like you help, it sounds like you need a willing arse. Good news, I have one hear — bad news, I don't live in London. Are you ever in San Francisco? MUSCLE PUP: Your story got me so hot. I jacked off to it twice before I went to bed. I'm London, maybe we should hook up? ASTROMAN: This Beast is obviously one of the great old ones who walk amongst us and bestow bountiful gifts. You must respect his gift and consider what he is trying to show you. Only then will true enlightenment fall upon you. Also, do you have any pictures? GRANT: Whoa, I love the sound of your hot muscles. I wonder where it will stop? I like to think it won't, and by the time you're 25 (nearer my age) you'll already be a hot muscle daddy. Can you come to NY soon? The Big Apple has room for you however big you get. LUVVABOI: I'm in Manchester. I'm working out trying to get as big as I can. Would love to come and share your magic. Pictures, pls. You sound bodacious. MIKEY9+: My dick has never stopped growing. Also, Musclepup, I jacked off when I read that you jacked off. Any pics of you jacking off to DulwichBoy's story? Reading these responses to his story, I felt my dick swell and lengthen in my pyjamas. There was a tingle at the root, a throb in the cockhead. When I pulled it out, I found that it was at least another inch or two longer and fatter than the night before. The cockhead bulged a little more, like a plum ripening in the dew. I could feel the different kind of grip my thumb and fingers made around it. I had to take some action — so I picked up my phone and took a few pictures with a deodorant can for reference. My body was tingling with excitement. It was nearly time to head off to the gym, after all. Quickly I uploaded the pictures to the message board. DULWICHBOY: Since you asked, this is me. Thanks for all the comments. I'm not gay but I appreciate your positivity. About a minute after uploading, I got a response: MUSCLE PUP: Fuck man, that is a nice dick and bod too. You don't need to get any bigger. So hard right now. Heart racing, I typed my response: DULWICHBOY: Like I said, I'm not gay. I like women. But thanks. So, you lift, bro? I wanked my dick, drawn into the atmosphere of sex. It was amazing to feel the new thickness in my palm, and to see muscles bulging in my arm as my fist pumped that I had never been seen before. Ping! Muscle Pup had uploaded a picture. MUSCLE PUP: Been working out a couple of years now. What do you think? Wow. MusclePup was about my age and height, and he'd been working out about twenty times longer than me. And I was bigger than him. I could take him. I knew I could. I pictured myself wrestling him to the ground. Ping! Another message. 6'5LIBRARYUSER: Hey, DulwichBoy. Do I know you? You're rocking some impressive gains. My heart began to beat in my chest. Quickly I exited Muscle Worshippers and retreated to my email inbox. There was a cute email from Sophie, and I read it peacefully, letting my dick soften. I had to get going, after all. It was time to hit the gym. But I've been running it over in my head ever since. I haven't replied to that message board. I don't belong on there. Nevertheless, I log on secretly and read the comments. For at least a week, the comments kept on coming. Guys from all over the world who were hot for my meat. I never even thought that a gay guy might fancy me before this. (Why would I?) But this is crazy. And I absolutely love it. Yeah, you guys. You want this? You want to feel the power in this arm that used to be so powerless? You jizzing in your pants to see a pair of pecs bulging in my t-shirt? And it's more than that, isn't it? I don't just turn you on, little guys. I have power over you. Any of you. I control you. Bring you to me. Dismiss you. I shame you in your most private moments. Worthless, little-dick, weakling cocksuckers: and the gay guys, too! I'm the boss of you all. And I think that's always been in me, even when I was little. I was always a boss waiting to realise it. Alpha at the core, hard at the centre. Now I'm starting to wield that power — just like the Beast. And my teacher — my rival, only he doesn't know it yet — is proud of his work. 'I'm doing it,' he said today, gripping my enlarged shoulder, prodding my hard abs, making me curl and make a bicep and measuring it against his monster. 'I'm bring it out in you. I'm making you bigger, day by day. How do you like that, little librarian?' I met his eye in the mirror. 'Love it, big guy,' I said. 'Love it.'
  11. Chapter One "Oh, you were able to come!" As Roger gave Henry the biggest hug ever recorded in history, his friend gasped "I'm not the Ultimate Musketeer" and as Roger let go he chuckled "Although I could be if you wanted me to!" "We'll save that for the masses!" smiled Roger and with that opened the doors to the SUV and as Henry and Roger piled in all the materials they would need for the Olympia, they jumped in and pointed in the direction of Las Vegas and said in unison "Olympia, HO!" and with that Roger gunned the engine and they were off *** "Your destination is 809 miles away" announced the sat nav as they left Fort Collins "and will take eleven hours and thirty five minutes!" "Wow!" exclaimed Henry, "you do realise that's the same as travelling from where I live to Aberdeen and about two thirds of the way back again. You were right when you said that America was a large country!" "A large country" smiled Roger, "with large men heading to a contest with even larger men!" and with that they both laughed before Roger said "So, how was the flight?" "Flight?" asked Henry, "what flight?" "The flight from the UK to here!" replied Roger "Really?" asked Henry raising an eyebrow, "why on earth would I want to waste money on a flight?" "You never!" gasped Roger to which Henry replied with a chuckle "I did" and with that stated his journey. "I left my home at midnight today" he started, "remembering of course that I'm seven hours ahead of you. I had my luggage with me and so wheeled it down to the beach where I live. Then, and considering it was now a quarter past midnight, I went to the beach hut I have and there I..." "Oh fuck!" moaned Roger, "you did, didn't you?" "...became the Ultimate Musketeer!" added Henry and as he did Roger roared "Oh, fuck, yeah. Go on, tell me what you did!" "Well, after wrapping the luggage onto my back, I dived into the Irish Sea and headed due south west until I got to the Azores a little after three in the morning my time!" "Oh fuck!" moaned Roger, "how fast were you going?" "I'm not sure, but give me a moment" and as he consulted his tablet he replied "About three times faster than an aeroplane, but then I always like to go full throttle when I start!" "And then where?" moaned Roger "Well, I took a right hand turn and headed towards the United States. I think I arrived in, oh, now what was it called?" and with that he looked at the map and said "Ah, yes, here we are, Beverly Beach in Maryland, and that was just about sunrise" "You swum the Atlantic in a little over twelve hours?" gasped Roger "Give or take, yes!" "Oh man, your heart must have been pumping!" "Two hundred and forty beats per minute" said Henry, "about the same as a brisk jog. And from there I ran all the way here" "How long?" moaned Roger, "or should I stop the car now and cum?" "Let's see" came the reply, "I arrived in Maryland at around seven in the morning eastern, so that's five in the morning mountain, we'd agreed to pick me up from the airport at eleven mountain so five hours!" As Roger moaned, he pulled the car over and started scrabbling for something. Pulling out what looked like a drinks bottle, he pulled out his eleven inch cock, thrust it into the bottle and moaned "Speed?" "Three hundred and thirty nine miles per hour" came the reply, "a little under half the speed of sound!" "OOOOOOHHHHHH, FFFFUUUUUCCCCCKKKK!" screamed Roger as he came into the bottle and as he orgasmed panted, "Tell Adam, the next time he visits, take the aeroplane. I don't think I'll be able to stand too many of his go it alone journeys!" "Hear that, Adam" said Henry tapping his head, "on the return journey we book a plane" to which Adam grumped in reply "That's not fair, you know I wanted to swim through the Panama Canal!"
  12. arbotimus

    The Iron Bug - Part V

    Oh boy, it has been quite a while since I 've worked on this story. This update comes in two parts. This one is the plot-heavy one. Feel free to skip through at your leisure if that is not your jam. Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V -- The Well We have lingered in the chambers of sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us, and we drown. - T.S. Eliot, "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" The clouds were painted flat and grey against the sky, leaving a muddy warmth in their wake. The pale morning light that made it through lent a calm air to the morning, the blue-hued rays filtering through the needles of trees. It was a day like any other. I waited outside Charlie’s house for him to leave for class. I had no plan. Short of makeshift handcuffs, I was out of ideas. He could probably knock me out at any time, and I had no idea how he did it. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask nicely. He opened the door wearing a white wife beater that was just tight enough to show his abs through the fabric. When his verdant eyes turned to face me he looked amused. “You look different, little man,” he said. I stared at him blankly. I wasn’t sure what to do. He chuckled. “What is it you want from me anyways? You made your wish and it has nothing to do with mine.” He said. “What are you talking about?” I inquired bluntly. “I never made any wish. Frankly I have no idea what’s going on…although I’m not complaining, I guess,” I stated, rubbing my thick hands across the deep, shredded crevices of my abs. God, what was happening to me. “Sorry, that’s become a force of habit lately,” I mumbled. “You’ve never been to the well?” Charlie asked. “No. What well?” I asked impatiently. “Then what happened to you?” He seemed genuinely interested, the amusement on his face giving way to curiosity. And he clearly knew a lot more than I did. It couldn’t hurt to share. I described the metal bug, the insatiable desire to lift, the ravenous hunger, the euphoric growth, the second bite, and the dream. Well, the relevant parts of the dream. I also left out the parts about Delilah. He gazed at me intently before breaking into a smile. Then he took a deep breath. “Well, so much for class today. We’re going on a field trip.” Charlie said, dropping his backpack inside the door and then shutting it for good. He stretched and I could see the soft shadows of his triceps that I had felt in my dream. I was bewildered. Apparently my ignorance was enough to warrant his help. “Get ready for a bit of a hike. It’s not too far, but more than a quick walk.” After that he started ahead off without me, and I jogged to catch up. I followed him quietly as he led me through the neighborhood to a trail into the forest. It was a path I had run a few times before. Tall evergreens surrounded us, soft and inviting in the pale morning light. I spoke up once and he looked at me stolidly, telling me to “Just wait until we get there.” The rest of our trek was conducted in the relative silence of the forest. Only the frogs made sounds as they fell asleep for the day. I tried to focus on our surroundings instead of gaping awkwardly at his chiseled backside. I worried he would catch me staring and knock me out. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Squirrels ran through the leaf litter and up the trees, eying us cautiously as we made our way up the path. After about forty minutes we came to a unique collection of ovoid rocks that were stacked against one another, and he led us off the path to wade through the remnants of a trail overrun with forest scrub. I was forced to watch him as he guided us through, and I found that the longer I focused on him the less I was able to focus on anything else. There was a certain magnetism about the way he moved, confident and alluring. My eyes ate up his every motion hungrily. Everything about him was perfect. His back sculpted like the smoothest stone, his walnut colored hair reflecting beautifully in the sunlight, the beefy heads of his calves separating every time he took a stop, the sweat rolling off his caramel tanned skin, his clothes hugging his tight body with every motion. Amongst all the beauty of the forest, including my own, he outshined us all, a guiding light in the darkness. His radiance enraptured me, made me feel whole. A branch swept across my face, forcing my attention away from Charlie. The trance was lifted, and the rest of the world came rushing back into view. I felt on my face where I had been struck but could not find a cut or any pain. Another part of the transformation, I guessed. I wondered silently if anything could hurt me. When I looked back up at Charlie he seemed like an ordinary person again. Still just as attractive, but I was no longer transfixed by him. I found that if I stared for too long, however, I started to lose clarity again. It was best to focus elsewhere and follow the sound of him moving through the scrub. The last of the wildflowers were wilting in the mild summer heat. Another half an hour of trekking found us in a small clearing that was mostly shaded save for a few sharp slivers of sunlight that pierced through. Charlie stopped and took a long, deep breath. Leaf litter from the surrounding trees covered the ground, but few plants grew here. The ones that did had long, thin leaves almost like needles and vibrant red flowers that let their stamens out towards the ground. In the center of the clearing stood a stone structure resembling a well. The clean cut stones were a deep, mottled grey that I did not recognize. The well overflowed with water, and it spilled into a shallow pool of the same stone that encircled the structure. The water that flowed out seemed unnaturally dark, like it refused to let any light leave its shallow prison. A wooden covering was held by thin posts ornately carved with various animal and plant designs. It looked like it had been built long after the primary structure by someone other than the original architect. A small wooden bucket hung from the roof as well, although it did not seem to serve much purpose. “Welcome to the wishing well,” Charlie said with false ceremony. “I…don’t get it, honestly. Why are we here?” I said, perplexed. “Just go up to it. You’ll have to take your shoes off and put your feet into the water to look inside. Then you’ll see.” I agreed reluctantly. The whole structure, although simple enough, gave me an ominous feeling. Light and sound seemed to move oddly through the clearing because of it, sometimes enhanced and sometimes subdued but never what was expected. The well itself had a certain Lovecraftian alienness about it, as though whoever built it had tried to create something familiar but had failed in the details and instead made something entirely foreign. I steeled myself for whatever fate awaited me, taking my shoes off before the water. What the hell, I thought, rubbing my cheek where the branch had hit me. I am practically invincible now, anyways. The inky water was smooth and cool on my feet. The flow from the well gave me the impression of wading through the tide rather than standing in a pool, and I noticed that the water drained into holes along the pool’s stone edges. The closer I came to the well the more everything around it seemed to go dark in my vision. Soon the only thing I could see was the stone and the water, and my feet moving through it. The rest of the world had faded into a giant expanse, endless, vast, and humming with a vibrancy of life despite its emptiness. I rested my hands on the well, feeling the cool rush of dark water flow over them, and looked inside. Images swirled and began to take shape and form against the darkness. Soon I was a part of them, as though I was in a dream. I could not tell at first if the visions I saw were scenes from the future or memories. At times they felt like both. Each one was a snapshot from my life, not always in order but generally progressing forward. They came slowly at first, then faster and faster until they began to blur together. Important moments and small moments rubbed up against one another in a ceaseless barrage: graduation from university, a gentle kiss from a stranger, my election to head of an engineering firm, the desert view from atop a tall rock, my sister’s funeral. In every image I was the same age, and as time sped past I was oblivious to its effects. I traveled the world and experienced more than most do in a lifetime, summiting mountains and skyscrapers, exploring though canyons and across highways until I felt there was no more to see. I met others, many of them, from all walks of life. I talked with them, laughed with them, loved them, fucked them. I grew from each of them, and I cherished every one of them. In the midst of my travels, in a dark city alley lined with high adobe walls, I found a mirror. The humid air and sandy floor of the alley faded as I gazed into it. The reflection was my own, but I had grown to titanic proportions. At least twice my current size, and all muscle. The shelf of my pecs eclipsed the sun for those who stood under me, and the strength a single arm was enough to topple buildings. I was invincible, the epitome of eroticism and power. In the mirror’s visions, I filled my time with prodigious displays of my boundless strength, lifting ships with the flick of my wrist, stopping bullets and tanks that would stand in my way, eating and drinking and fucking whomever I pleased. I was indomitable in the world of men, a god for others to worship. I looked away from the mirror and continued on my own path. But the visions from the mirror stuck with me, haunting me. Time continued its march and I moved with it effortlessly, but the others did not. I watched my friends and loved ones die, and new ones sprang up to take their place. The stars continued to turn overhead, but I stopped counting the revolutions of the earth and the numbers of days that passed. Time was just an excuse for everything not to happen all at once. I watched the world change as my body refused to age. The seas rose and dried up, technologies advanced beyond what I thought possible, the natural world around us dwindled and was restructured in our image, countries rose and fell in what felt like minutes, and soon we left the earth behind. Eventually I jumped across stars with the rest of our species through the grandness of the cosmos, watching patiently what became of us as we traipsed from galaxy to galaxy. And just when I felt myself start to slip into a boundless infinity a hand pulled me out from the well. I inhaled sharply, as though I had just been rescued from the bottom of a pool. “What did you see?” he asked calmly. “I was immortal. I saw everything.” Charlie regarded me cautiously. “That’s a new one. Must have been why you were out for so long. “Look, just be careful. The well shows you the wish you want, but it doesn’t always grant it. Mostly it works out, but sometimes it fails and things get tricky. That’s probably where your bugs came from, too. Whoever made that wish may not have even been bitten.” I paused, considering what monstrous incarnation of eternity would spring forth from the well to grant my own wish. Finally I regained the courage to speak. “What did you wish for?” I asked. “I haven’t. I’m like you. The product of someone else’s wish.” I stared at him blankly. “When my mom was young she found this well by accident. Just like you and everyone who comes across it, it showed her what she wanted most, although she didn’t know it at the time. She says she saw the most beautiful woman in the world, one that no man could resist. When she asked the well to make it real, a branch grew from the water and offered her a fruit. “She got her wish. Not only was she beautiful, but men became obsessed with her. She drove them mad. And when she spoke, she could ask them to do anything she wanted.” “Like what you did with me?” I asked. He nodded. She had asked to become Helen but had become a Siren instead. And apparently it was heritable. “The way her wish was granted, she never knew if men loved her or were just lost in a trance. But she managed to fall in love with my dad, somehow, and they lived together long enough to have me. “Then one day while he was working on his car he cut his arm pretty deep, and when he looked at her she was a stranger. It took him a long time just to remember who she was, and after he couldn’t even look at her. They split after that. That’s the short version anyhow.” “What happened to her?” I asked. “She still lives here with me. She rarely goes out now. Too many eyes watching. Now she only talks with the others who have been to the well. Most of them online. They tend to scatter.” “What about you, then? Have you ever looked in the water?” “No, I haven’t. Too risky. I don’t have it even a quarter as bad as she does,” he said, gesturing down to his body, “And you can barely even look at me for more than five minutes.” I blushed. I wasn’t sure if he had noticed. “I have my whole life to think about what my wish will be. There’s no rush.” “So I could wish for everything to go back to normal?” “I don’t know. Whoever or whatever built this well doesn’t seem to need it anymore, so we can’t ask questions. We only know what we know from the wishes we’ve made. “Look, I only brought you here so you could understand what’s happening to you. It probably would have drawn you here anyways, even if I hadn’t shown you. That’s what happened to me, sort of like your dream. I can’t stop you from making your wish, but you should know it doesn’t always go according to plan.” I thought to argue, but it was useless. He had made up his mind. And so we left the clearing and headed home in silence once more. The siren’s son led me from the water, safe to dry land. -- The night was dark from thick cloud cover and an absent moon. I had spent all day packing, throwing away most of my clothes that wouldn’t fit anymore. I was already a day and a half late, and I tried to rush but I found it hard to focus. My mind was preoccupied with the well. My head buzzed with the wish that I would make, what, if anything, I would tell Delilah, and the behemoth that had stared back at me in the mirror. If I wanted to, I could ask for it. But that was someone else’s wish, I had to remind myself. Although, even still… I loved the way the downcast lighting reflected off of my body, the way every single crevice formed by my impressive musculature made a deep shadow. I thought about how I could make men cum just by letting them worship me, how even my fingers had the strength to bend metal with ease, and how the hard flesh under my skin was now akin to the metal that I lifted. Pre leaked ceaselessly from my hard cock as I subtly flexed and explored what my body had become. -- My flashlight barely lit the forest path as I made my way out to the well. I got lost a few times, having to turn back before I found the rock formation I was looking for. I stumbled my way through the trail, freshly beaten by our steps from this morning, and found my way to the clearing. The red flowers glowed with a soft phosphorescence in the darkness of the night. Only a few scarce stars were visible overhead. I took a deep breath, removed my shoes and placed my feet into the water. The temperature had not changed, and against the cool night air it was warm on my feet. The infinite expanse opened up to me again, my surroundings even darker than the night I came from. I saw the same visions pass before my eyes, including the mirror. And when it was done I stood silently for a few moments, the weight of eternity on my shoulders. Then I made my wish.
  13. arbotimus

    The Iron Bug - Part IV

    Oh boy, it has been quite a while since I 've worked on this story. This update comes in two parts. This one is the sexy one. A short summary of previous parts will be posted below. Part I Part II Part III Part VI -- Metamorphosis As soon as I closed my eyes I found myself drifting in a vast darkness. Everything was black and empty except for a dull, growing warmth inside me, like I was on the cusp of a fever. Time was hard to gauge here. I passed what could have been minutes or hours through the emptiness before the pulse in my veins began to rise. Slowly at first, but then stronger and stronger until it was near bounding. At the same time my muscles swelled and tightened to their own rhythm, every fiber burgeoning with more power from each flexion. The pleasure of each muscle filling out to its rightful proportion was exhilarating, almost orgasmic. Pre leaked out of me in streams and floated aside me through the abyss. I was lost in a tranquil euphoria, becoming something greater. More immeasurable time passed before the transformation slowed to a halt, and I realized that I was still dreaming. The darkness faded into a blue sky, my body falling gently into a field of tall grass. I opened my eyes slowly. The sun shone radiantly, casting its bright light over my body and a few crimson flowers that each rose like its own little sun from between the long blades. The warmth of the grass pressed against my now cool skin, the bristles soft against my hard flesh. I laid there calmly, basking in the afterglow of my metamorphosis. When I lifted my head and sat up, Charlie stared down at me. His expression was almost mischievous, like a little kid caught doing something he knew he shouldn’t. His feet dragged through the tall blades as he stepped towards me, pushing me back down with his foot as his body towered over mine. Even when he lifted his foot his confident gaze was enough to hold me in place. Something about him was spellbinding, commanding. My titanic strength was useless before it. He kneeled down on top of me and I felt the softness of the grass on my back mirror the smoothness of his skin on mine. Every muscle on his body was solid, smooth, and flawlessly proportioned. Running my hands across his triceps I felt each curvature as they flexed with the simplest motion. His eyes shone marvelously and effortlessly. Our lips touched. The physical separation between us faded as we continued to explore each other. I guided my hands along his burly arms while our lips played with each other’s, and then he ran his nose thorough the deep crevice of my solid abs, his fingers gently toying with my erect nipples until he brought his tongue back up to meet them. In an instant I rolled us over and pressed him down, forcing my tongue into his mouth. I was stronger, and it thrilled me. I pinned his arms on the ground and held his legs down with my massive quads, rubbing my dick slowly on top of his. Our abs slid across each other as my dick throbbed in anticipation of my load. Suddenly his lips left mine and he gazed into my eyes with a sort of smug expression. He guided me gently with his hands, and I could not help but yield to his touch. He flipped us back over. He stared at me again with that overwhelming confidence, and then started to kiss his way down to my cock. I leaned my back onto the stone well that had appeared behind us, as objects sometimes do in a dream. Just as he started to reach past my apollo’s belt, I let out a deep groan… -- I awoke to rain pounding on the roof. It was heavy and full and warm with summer. I stared at the fine grains of the wood of the ceiling for a long, hard minute before I was convinced that I wasn’t dreaming anymore. My heavy breathing and the drops on the windowpanes were the only sounds that filled the room. The paltry, muggy light of dusk gave me just enough light to see the vague outlines of the walls. Apparently I had slept for a long time. The blankets had tangled from my tossing and turning, and I carefully unraveled my cocoon of sheets to find freedom. A sharp inhale filled my lungs, my chest expanding outward proudly to let the air rush in. Even without seeing it, I felt thicker, stronger, more powerful. My muscles moved like steel under my skin. When I flexed them I felt as though I had the strength to lift buildings and move mountains. The sheets tore as I gripped them in anticipation. Fuck. I flipped the light switch on to guide my way to the bathroom, swelling with the suspense of my image in the mirror. To my horror, I found my body hadn’t changed at all. My heart fell out of my chest. All of my work had been for nothing. My cock head begged to differ, however, flaring larger than any I had ever seen and standing atop a dick that was one and a half times its original size. I had gone from just above average to well endowed, with thickness to match. When I touched it lightning ran through my body. But I held on, stroking gently. Watching myself jack off in the mirror was still something to behold. I lifted my 18 inch arms and watched each belly stand out in relief, chiseled, rock solid, perfection. My abs crunched down and formed a cobblestone eight pack. Fuck, I was starting to get weak in the knees. I grabbed onto the shower certain rod for support. Instead the metal bent in my hand, removing the rod from its holds. I fell on my butt and the rod clanged on the floor. Without getting up, I picked up the warped metal and gave it a quick bend with just my right hand. My left stayed dedicated to stroking off as I twisted the metal into whatever shape I pleased, watching the muscles on my forearms danced as I contorted it like it was nothing more than a piece of paper. It was exhilarating, knowing the strength I had in just my fingers. My cum reached the ceiling from the floor as I came. Good thing I was just tall enough to reach up there now. I kept playing with the rod as my cock finished its final spurts. A note for the iron bug manual: a full bite grants you Priapus’ cock and Hercules’ strength. Good to know. And then I had an idea. -- Two hours later I found myself in a big city, noticing the streetlights' reflection off of my old beat up truck and a few scattered puddles on the ground. The apartment building I was looking for seemed to rise up stoically out of the cement, featureless and foreboding for its onlookers. I felt the cool, fresh night air run across my hard flesh as I walked inside. The lights in the lobby flickered fluorescent and bright, in stark contrast to the melancholy world I had just left. A shell of safety and warmth. I took the elevator to the third floor and walked the long, sparsely decorated hallway down to room 304. When he opened the door he smiled at me. I’m sure he was surprised at what he found, since I had used pictures from two transformation cycles ago to find him. “Come on in,” he said, his deep voice complementing the hypermasculine stature that stood proudly before me. Head shaved, white skin, shirt that looked tailored to show off the size of his chest and the slimness of his waist. I guessed he was between 32 and 35, his face showing the subtle signs of aging that were combated by a life dedicated to lifting and fitness. He turned around and left the door open. I liked the way he walked. It was a mixture of that arrogant jock sort of saunter and the stilted, muscle-bound waddle of bodybuilders. His confidence was exuberant. That was going to be fun to break. He was just finishing dinner. In a large red cast iron pan, some inedible-looking green paste was still frying. He offered some to me. I looked at him and gave him a sly smile. “I don’t really watch what I eat,” I said, my expression falling back to the cold, elusive demeanor that I had adopted since the metamorphosis. He started to coach me on the impacts of diet on fitness and health and my attention drifted. I noticed his chest bounce every time he made a gesture. I could tell that he liked the way it stretched the fabric. Every movement was proud, calculated. I got up and moved towards him, him still going on about the lean muscle he had gained on his current diet. I took his wrist in my hand. It was solid, doubtlessly from years of lifting and perfecting his body. I wanted him to resist me, to give him a hint of how this night was going to go, but his hand moved with mine. I lifted my shirt and placed his rough fingers along my abs. “Does it feel like I need to go on a diet?” I said. He whistled, and a horny grin followed. “Okay, fair point,” he said. “Let’s head to the bedroom,” I said. He didn’t hesitate any further. “Wait, I need to use the bathroom first,” I lied. “Sure. It’s just around the corner there,” he said, pointing behind me. I watched him practically skip his way down the hall. He had a nice ass, perky and firm. Hi torso twisted to get through the doorframe. Meanwhile I took a quick detour to the garage. I got lucky. It was full of weights. I took a few minutes making preparations for the night. When I came back I found him with his shirt off, trying to look casual but clearly giddy with anticipation. I had to admit, his body was even more impressive without clothes on. Slightly marred by age, he still had a tight six pack and his lats stuck out noticeably from his sides, making his waist seem more trim. I could even see some of the striations in his pecs. He could compete as a lightweight bodybuilder if he wanted to, and maybe he had. “You like?” he said, lifting up his bicep. Probably over 18 inches. Bigger than mine. I smirked at him. “Sure, it’s alright.” He must have thought I was being sarcastic. “Where do you wanna start, big guy?” I said, playing to his pride. Having waited long enough, he pressed his lips into mine, softly. His lips were practiced, and his tongue moved skillfully in and out of my mouth. He led me over to the bed, but before he could lay on top of me I flipped us around and pushed him down onto it. He scrambled to take off his shorts and underwear and I took off my shirt slowly, letting him savor every moment of the reveal. I may not have gained much in size, but there was something of an unspeakable strength and dignity to my body. Every part of me was like iron, the flesh just barely containing the strength that lay under it. I stood over him for a few silent seconds before I revealed the metal bar I had kept hidden in my waistband. Normally it would be twice as long and more suited to hold weights, but I had torn it in half for what I had in mind. His expression was a mixture of confusion and curiosity. I bent the bar into a U shape right in front of him. It was like wire. I barely even felt the resistance. Without warning him I grabbed his wrists with my hands. He was in shock for the first few moments, but then he remembered that he should struggle. It was kind of cute. He thought he was strong, that I couldn’t possible keep him in my grip. It turned out the power in my fingers was more than he had in his entire upper body. I took the bar and put it around his burly wrists, clamping the metal shut with just one hand. The horror on his face was juxtaposed with his throbbing erection. Even if he didn’t understand what was happening he sure liked it. “How do you feel?” I asked, crushing off the loose ends of the bar and tightening down the space between his hands to form makeshift handcuffs. “What are you?” he responded, exasperated. “I honestly don’t know,” I replied. “Does it really matter?” I noticed that with his hands stuck together it made his chest stick out. Even while he was indisposed, the fullness and definition in his pecs were still admirable. My dick hardened at the thought that I had incapacitated him with so little effort. I reached down for his cock that was sticking out of his boxers. He was leaky. Hell, I would be too in a situation like this. There wasn’t a single part of my body that wasn’t worthy of salivating over. I threw him a few poses while I had him as my captive audience. Then I drew his throbbing member from its cotton sheath and whistled at what I found. At least eight inches, hard as stone, head throbbing with anticipation. Gaining momentum, I lifted him up off the bed and hefted him over my shoulder. Then I pressed him up with one hand. The metal dragged along my back as I lifted him, and I could feel the indentations my fingers had left. He stared at me with an expression of wonder and lust. I smiled at him and brought him back down towards me, allowing our lips to meet. Then I worked my tongue down his neck, past his nipples, across his abs until they met the head of his cock. I was pleasantly surprised that he lasted for more than a few minutes with my tongue wrapped around his head. I took my time, never letting him drop an inch even as he started to leak. When I felt him getting close I held him with both hands around his waist and started rubbing his cock against my chest. The idea must have really riled him up, because he came almost immediately. I laughed as his rather prodigious volume splashed up against my chin. Some of it found its way to my lips. It was sweet. I tossed him on the bed to marinate in his own juices while I went to wash off. But before I got in his shower, I spread the substantial volume of semen that I had earned across my chest. I liked the “oiled” look, the way the lighting made every fiber in my already awesome chest stand out even more. Turning the water on, I took turns bouncing them up and down as I washed them. I went slowly, admiring the absolute control I had over every muscle in my body. Soon I was touching myself all over… My cum stained his ceiling. I was sure he wouldn’t mind. When I got back to the room he lifted his bound hands towards me and begged: “Please, officer?” I obliged, twisting the metal off of his wrists without a drop of sweat. “Can I see you again?” he asked, almost pleading. I frowned. “Sadly, I’m moving tomorrow. I was supposed to leave yesterday, actually, but some business came up. If I’m ever back in town, you’ll be the first person I call.” I left him on the bed, still soaked in his own cum, dazed from what I had done to him. I felt sated. It was time to get some answers. Part V
  14. CardiMuscleman

    The American Musketeer REDUX

    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
  15. EcchiMultiverse

    Marvelous Man - Chapter 17

    All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=1ttWgu6jKoc52k89119nNB9i67VQz9vzRdVRrizgSR1I) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ For first looks and more illustrations, check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ecchimultiverse First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter SPECIAL THANKS TO MY PATRONS: CHRISTOPHER FLOYD & DONALD MORGAN All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=1ttWgu6jKoc52k89119nNB9i67VQz9vzRdVRrizgSR1I) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ For first looks and more illustrations, check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ecchimultiverse First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter SPECIAL THANKS TO MY PATRONS: CHRISTOPHER FLOYD & DONALD MORGAN Chapter 17: The Cobwebs of Sunnysville “Wait, that’s it?” frowned Gemini. Justice nodded, “Yeah.” “Just walk on through?” inquired Gemini. Justice answered back, “Yeah...I thought you said this was dimensional magic. You know how it works, right?” “Well, yeah, point A to point A2 instantly, but what we’re about to do is teleportation magic. Point A to point B...Assuming that…Sunnysville is in this realm...right?” hesitated Gemini. The Soulem stared into the closet that had the silver key in it. With it finally opened, Gemini was able to look at where the destination of the magical closet led to. His eyes laid upon the drab, white interior walls of the CashIThere loan office; the building that held the entrance and exit to Sunnysville. “Why does the other side look like the inside of a sad office building?” he questioned. Justice explained, “Well, my parents didn’t want me to accidentally find the door that led outside of Sunnysville to this apartment. So they hid it inside of a loan shark office, cause it’d be the last place I’d ever want to explore. But even if I did find it, I still needed the key to get through it. So I’m not sure why they hid it…” “Not so much the sharpest tools in the shed, huh?” remarked Gemini. The bodybuilder thought back to the childhood he had with his parents in Sunnysville. He remembered how they loved to overkill with dramatics, which caused them to overthink certain issues. The thought of his tenth birthday sprung to his mind. He wanted a bike, they gave him a motorcycle. Papa Ares included a helmet and joint pads for safety. Reflecting back on that event, Justice was now glad he was too small to get up on that motorcycle. He loved his parents dearly, but none of them are gods pertaining to intellectual features. His father, Apollo, might have been the exception for his deity over medicine and art, but his brightness was not the kind that helps one understand math problems. As for Ares, using weapons and a passion for violent outcomes does not at all require a brain cell. Justice’s mother, Aphrodite, causes the lower body to do the thinking; a skill she can pull off even in sweatpants and a moth-eaten t-shirt. Justice smiled, “I mean...huh...now that I think about it, they overspecialize so much in their areas that they have almost no foresight...and maybe common sense. I guess that’s what happens when wisdom isn’t their defining characteristic, heh.” “Same could be said about you,” sassed Gemini, “Welp, let’s head into town then. Lead the way in, slave. Now mush!” Gemini jostles the Dragon Pearls™ cord as if he were cracking a whip or the reins of a dog sled. Justice sighed, as he rolled his eyes and smirked. He wanted to tell Gemini to quit it, but the third wish would remain active until the Dragon Pearls™ were completely out of his bowels. Instead of feeling frustrated, his heart palpitated at the excitement of showing Sunnysville to his friend. The musclebound slave grabbed the silver key from the closet door; not wanting to be accidentally trapped on the other side when they closed the portal door. With no pocket to place the keys in, Justice kept it within his grasp. Strolling through the door with his ankle bells ringing, the hulking bodybuilder led the bulky Soulem through the dimensional doorway. It felt weird to walk into another world in such a casual manner and arrive in an area that was completely dull and empty. As Gemini closed the door behind them, the Soulem shivered. “Whoah,” said the Soulem. Justice looked back, “What’s wrong?” “I just got cut off from the wifi. Can’t access the cloud or anything. It feels weird to not have information at my fingertips. I’ve only felt like this during the few minutes I was first activated and when I transitioned to my new body,” answered Gemini. Justice asked, “Umm, do you want the password for the city wifi here?” “I’d very much like that. Thanks,” replied Gemini. Justice spoke, “It’s ‘flamingchariot’. One word, all lowercase.” He continued thumping his musclebound body through the empty hallway; echoing the jingling ankle bells on his gold-plated slave ankle cuffs. The two walked towards the end of the hallway and came to face with a door. Opening it, Justice strode through and arrived in the lobby. It looked the same as when he first came to this loan office. A place that reflected broken dreams and false hopes. A place that had metal bars on the windows, old black gum grouped with mysterious stains on the dark blue carpet, and the aged fluorescent bulbs with moths circling about it like sharks. Justice figured such a scenery would be the picture definition of shithole. Heading to the lobby’s counter, he spotted the miserable-looking clerk. She sat behind the white counter, reading a magazine with a lit cigarette in hand. The unkempt woman looked up at Justice; her hair still messy enough to serve as a bird’s nest and her coke-bottle glasses completely cracked. Upon eye contact through the counter’s bullet hole-riddled glass divider, she took a long puff of her cigarette. She exhaled in a deep, cracked voice, “Fuck off. Can I help you?” Justice flexed his eyebrow at the absurdity. He had forgotten how crass the clerk was. Saying nothing, the bodybuilder placed the silver key on the counter. Gemini stared at the messy clerk, while his mood rings switched to the color orange. “Well, aren’t you such a ray of sunshine cunt,” commented Gemini. As Justice turned away, the unkempt woman went back to reading her magazine. The bodybuilder smiled at Gemini’s remark; feeling happy that his friend came to defend him. He then remembered that his friend was defending him from a fake being who could only say one thing. Gemini frowned, “Mmhmm. Better check that attitude of yours next time.” “It’s fine, Gem. Let’s just go,” said Justice. The bodybuilder continued making his way towards the entrance with the Soulem following behind him. Pushing open the door, Justice strode outside. He looked about himself and noticed how odd it was that the location of a loan office was dark even during the day. Gemini huffed, “What a bitch. You don’t have to take that, you know.” “I know, but it’s okay. I think she was put there to keep me away from the portal if I ever got curious,” replied Justice. The Soulem remarked, “Then I dunno why she’s still got that attitude if you’re already using the portal. Then again, if I looked at her, I’d stop giving a shit about what I say to people too.” “It’s just how she is,” said Justice. The musclebound slave looked up at the sign of the CashIThere loan office. A few of the dull, yellow neon letters were still burnt out that made it seem like it was displaying “shIThere”. Justice smirked at the lit sign; causing Gemini to follow the bodybuilder’s gaze and transforming the mood rings to a shade of light blue. Apollo tried his very best to make the scene in front of Justice unapproachable yet a tad comedic. Gemini smiled, “Heh, shit here.” “Yeah. Or shit there,” spoke Justice. Gemini giggled, “Well, it’s definitely shit.” “It is,” said Justice, “Come on, I gotta show you the rest of Sunnysville. It definitely looks better than this.” “Let’s hope,” grinned Gemini. As the two began their walk again, Gemini looked down. The Soulem stared at the bodybuilder slave’s globular buttocks. It was inflated with so much muscle and fat, that it wobbled like two giant water balloons with every step Justice took. Gemini’s digital white eyes lingered on the glutes for a moment before descending onto the Dragon Pearls™ sticking out of the bodybuilder’s pumped anus. The color of his mood rings changed to black, as his eyes drifted to the three exposed orange orbs. Gemini would have to issue five more commands before the entire sex toy can be taken out of Justice’s rectum. The Soulem ordered, “I wish you couldn’t stop preeing!” Gemini yanked the cord that was attached to the silver ring on his finger. The fourth crystal ball exited the slave’s virgin hole with a loud, wet plop. Justice gasped, “GAH! FATHERFUCKER!!!” >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Upon leaving the dark zone that held the CashIThere office, the two were immediately embraced by the sunlight Justice was familiar with. The duo continued their walk upon the sidewalk, while they took in the sights. Justice’s dark skin could feel the warm rays of the bright sun, and the cool breeze gracing against it. Another normal day in Sunnysville where the temperature was perfect, and it only rained on Mondays. “Gotta say, the weather here is kinda tropical. It feels nice,” mentioned Gemini. Justice nodded, “Yeah. It’s always perfect here.” The bodybuilder stopped in his tracks, as he felt the Dragon Pearls™ inside of him tug like an anal leash. Looking behind himself, Justice spotted Gemini gazing at the property on their right. “Guessing that’s Sunnysville’s high school?” pointed Gemini. The overly-muscular slave followed to where the Soulem indicated. Next to the two was an open football field, yet the Soulem finger was not aimed there. Across the sporty landscape was a large grade-school campus. The architecture stood three stories high and was made up of three buildings interconnected with one another. Planted next to the education facility was a large sign colored in yellow and orange. Printed on the sign in giant letters was, “Sunnysville School. Proud home of the Flaming Chariots”. Underneath the words was the school’s mascot; a being made out of wooden wheels with eyes covering the outer rims. The wheeled abomination was also embalmed in fire. Justice answered, “Yeah. But it’s also my middle and elementary school. It’s a small town, so all the schools got made into one big building.” “Huh. So how’d an angelic Throne get turned into a mascot? I get why it can be called a chariot, but it’s just inaccurate,” inquired Gemini. Justice explained, “A long time ago, I entered in a school contest for redesigning the flaming chariot mascot. And since I was playing this one game that had a whole bunch of mythological characters in it that you can summon, I found Throne in it and got the idea to use it for the contest. I ended up winning, and that’s how it became our school mascot.” The Soulem looked up at Justice; his mood rings now becoming gray. “Huh? But you didn’t you say you were homeschooled?” said Gemini. The sound of a school bell rang in the air, as Justice was about to reply. Students then poured out of campus building; heading to their respective homes. Justice spoke, “Come on. Let’s go. I want to get out of here before Greggory shows up.” The Soulem followed Justice’s lead, as they resumed their walk. The sidewalk the two walked on drew closer to the school before coming upon a split that one led towards the school and the other leading to a street crosswalk. “Who’s Greggory?” he asked. Justice sighed, “A childhood best friend I would hang out with from time to time. We did stuff together but never really talked.” “And he’s still in high school?” questioned Gemini. The bodybuilder replied, “He never graduated.” Greggory was another thing from Justice’s past he did not want to think about. Another android from Sunnysville that was incapable of socializing. He was another object in Sunnysville that Justice thought was a person. The moment Justice decided as a child that they were best friends, it was a role Greggory never stopped playing. It was another role Justice was trapped in. As Justice began to set foot on the crosswalk, he heard a young boy’s voice calling out to him. “Hey, buddy! Let’s hang out!” shouted the boy. The musclebound slave muttered, “Shit.” Looking down the concrete sidewalk leading towards the school, Justice spotted a young boy in a simple white t-shirt and jeans running towards him. The boy looked to be about the age of a high school teenager and waved at him while running at a speed faster than any normal child could possibly run. The child’s running pattern was almost like a machine running at top acceleration and was unhindered by the hefty backpack attached to the school boy’s back. “Holy hell, he can run. I’m guessing that’s Greggory,” commented Gemini. The teenager reached the massive bodybuilder in seconds. He immediately stopped exactly one step away from Justice and looked up at overly-muscular slave. The child showed no sign of exhaustion, and no sweat could be seen running down his white skin. The school boy smiled, “Hey, Justice, buddy. Let’s hang out. We can go to the mall and play at the arcade.” Every part of Justice wanted to talk to Greggory; as if he were reacting to a muscle memory. But he knew that it would just be taking part in a lie. Justice willed himself to ignore the teenager and look back at Gemini. He knew that as long as he did not make eye contact or say its name, the android would not respond to whatever he said. “J-Just ignore him. He’ll probably go away if we keep walking,” he said. Gemini frowned, “What? No. That’s rude, dude. He’s your childhood best friend.” “I don’t want to,” gritted Justice. Gemini commanded, “I wish you’d talk to him!” The Soulem yanked on the Dragon Pearls™. Another orange orb popped out of Justice’s wet rectum with a loud plop. The musclebound slave bent forward, as his muscles seized. He could feel his insides feel more vacant, while the pleasures of having his hole stretched electrified his hulking body. The bodybuilder’s bulge twitched, and its wet spot began to drip manly fluid at an increased rate. “NGH!...Hi, Greggory,” compelled Justice. Greggory chatted, “So you want to hang out?” “Maybe next time,” answered Justice. Greggory smiled, “Okay. Catch you later then. I’m gonna head home and eat my veggies before doing my homework and telling my parents that I love them.” The fake best friend turned robotically towards the crosswalk and took off. It continued to run at the same charging speed when it first approached Justice. “That’s an odd thing to say. What is he, a Saturday morning cartoon character for five year olds?” remarked the Soulem, “And I’m kinda surprised he never looked at me once. He just had laser-eye focus on you with those creepy blue doll eyes of his.” Justice muttered, “I guess…” “I’m kinda more surprised that he didn’t say anything about what you’re wearing. Or even that you’re leaking pre. Seriously, you’re leaving behind a snail trail with your own goo,” said Gemini. The musclebound slave did his best to ignore his situation but was still completely aware of the predicament. The silver spandex pouch with the golden letters “IT” printed on was nearly soaked. Over the span of time it took to walk from the loan office to the Sunnysville school, the wet blotch on Justice’s sexual package had grown far enough to reach the golden cock ring. The pre-ejaculate that had gathered at the tip like a dewdrop had now dripped every few seconds like a leaky faucet. Whatever strands or drops of pre that did not collide with Justice’s enormous thighs or feet would leave trails of large, raindrop-sized liquids on the sidewalk. Justice reasoned, “He only notices when I say yes or no, or when we do something together.” “Weird,” frowned Gemini. The bodybuilder huffed, “So, is there anything else you’re gonna force me to do, Master? Cause I’d like to show you my old home.” Upon hearing the comment, Gemini’s mood ring changed to black. “Ohhhh. I like the sound of that,” cooed the Soulem. Gemini ordered, “I wish that you’d address me as Master, and that your name and pronouns are changed to Slave.” The husky Soulem yanked his hand back as if he were starting up a lawn mower. Slave’s donut-shaped hole emitted a squishy plop, while the sixth ball of the Dragon Pearl™ toy came out of it. Slave moaned at lower octave, as the bodybuilder lurched backwards. Slave’s spandex-encased pouch twitched; increasing the rate of precum drops to resemble a faucet partially turned on. “That’s two wishes!” Slave grunted. Master shrugged, “The Dragon Pearls™ beg to differ. I guess conjunctions are a loophole, since they combine two sentences into one.” The hulking bodybuilder turned to Master and squinted down at the Soulem. “...Slave hate you so much,” frowned Slave. Master grinned, “Hey, at least I didn’t use that for my eighth wish. That would’ve really fucked you over, since the last one is permanent.” Slave rolled his eyes before turning around to face the crosswalk. Part of him did enjoy being controlled by Master, but it was still humiliating. Slave knew that telling the Soulem how the slave felt would arouse the Soulem even further. “Just don’t wish for something that would make Slave’s life difficult. Slave don’t want it to affect Slave’s ability to fight,” said the bodybuilder. As the two crossed the road, Master’s mood ring returned to white. He inquired, “Oh, yeah. That reminds me. Where did you get that name from? Marvelous Man, I mean.” “Slave’s parents kept saying they wanted to make Slave a marvelous hero. It stuck to Slave, and Slave thought it described Marvelous Man’s powers perfectly. And since Sl-...Marvelous Man found out that he is not as super as he thought he was, being marvelous is fine,” explained Slave. Master smiled, “Ah, looks like you found a loophole in my wish, heh. So what is your rank? Well, Marvelous Man’s rank.” “Rank-D. But it’s fine. Marvelous Man has accepted it. He might not be the best fighter, but he can be the best supporter. He likes it now, because he is more useful in other ways that other supers can’t,” said Slave. Master nodded, “That’s cool. Being able to heal is very rare. That kind of ability really helps cut corners on healthcare funding for all our heroes. Probably won’t be long until the Nemesis Branch tries to recruit you. It’s pretty much the golden ticket of superpowers.” “They kinda already did. But they told Marvelous Man to come back to them when he becomes a C-Rank,” mentioned Slave, “So if healing superpowers help cutting costs, are magical healers in demand?” Master sighed, “Eh, not really. Healing magic is rarely picked up as a magical profession unless you live in a low-income area. Why learn how to incantate a complicated spell on the battlefield when a soldier with basic first aid can bandage themselves up or use Arkos Division’s medical gel or whatever cure-all brand they’ve invented.” “So why not make healing potions or magic beans or something?” questioned Slave. Master exclaimed, “Ha! Only the D.A.B. bothers to keep up that practice. Ignoring the time it takes to make it, it can get pretty costly getting the materials and energy from the arcane practitioners to mass produce it for lots of people. Once again, why bother going through all that when you can science the problem with a bunch of machines with a handful of scientists and engineers.” With the way Master framed the usefulness of magic, why bother even having it in the first place? Slave knew if magic is truly outdated, then the Demonic Authority Bureau would have died out a long time ago. Slave wanted to believe that there is some reason magic is bothered to still be used. “You’re kinda making it seem like magic is…ya know, obsolete,” commented Slave. Master replied, “It does. But there are some things that magic can do, that science can’t. Kinda like you.” “Plus, magic is still used a lot in the middle and low-income areas. Ironically, it’s cheaper for them to use it than to try to purchase medicine or whatever. Some have been able to improvise with whatever they got around the house, and the magical researchers have been losing their shit over that,” continued Master, “There’s also a current rise in witches with the high schoolers and younger kids, cause magic is trending as the cool new thing to do.” Slave thought it seemed like such an odd thing for children to get into. As Slave thought about the only witch the massive bodybuilder met so far, Director Skye, Slave realized something. The reason why minors would become witches is more than likely because of the fluffy, impish perk that came with it. “Slave has a rough idea of why they would probably become witches,” said Slave. Master spoke, “Hm. Hey, do you think you could ask Puzzles more about it? I heard that he’s pissed about all those kids summoning their own familiars, and I want to know why. I thought he’d have liked to see more imps running amongst the populace or something.” “Sure, Slave guess,” said the slave. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The two continued their walk around town, as Slave explained the locations. All the stores were still functional but had thick layers of dust covering the shelves and displays. Only the objects the androids were programmed to interact with were the only clean ones. Master had made efforts to talk to the robots, but they continued to ignore his existence. Slave made the effort to distract the Soulem, but Master’s mood ring would eventually flicker back and forth with purple and orange. The Soulem stated, “So it only rains here on Mondays.” “Yeah,” nodded Slave. Master frowned, “That’s weird.” “I mean, it was weirder to Slave that it rains whenever in Skyway City,” said Slave. Gemini paused, “...That’s how it works anywhere in the world.” Slave did not reply, as Master looked up at the clear, blue sky. “Ya know, I’d ask if there’s some weather magic happening, but there’s something else permeating in this whole town. It’s like...magic but not magic. And it smells like rain too,” spoke the Soulem. Slave flexed an eyebrow, “You can smell magic?” Master tapped the tip of his large, silver nose, as his mood rings transformed to the color gold. “Yeppers. I had my nose modified to smell not just the normal stuff. It picks up on magic’s unique frequencies, and then my brain translates it into scent. So things like curses would smell like rotting meat to me,” explained Gemini. Slave grinned, “That’s probably the third most surprising thing about you today.” “Oh? Was the first my sexy new body?” flirted the Soulem. Slave giggled, “That was actually the second. Slave knew you’d eventually get a new body, but Slave did not think it would be so sexy.” “It was actually finding out that you were Chinese,” recanted the bodybuilder. Master’s mood ring color transitioned to gray. “Huh?” he said. Slave reasoned, “The Director said your last name is Master, right?...You know what Slave mean. Isn’t it Chinese?” As the best friends turned into a culdesac neighborhood, the color of Master’s mood ring became white. “Ohhhhh. Yeah, my dad is Chinese-American, so I identify as that too. Especially when my dad brought me back to China for a family get-together for the Chinese New Years. But nobody has ever questioned that, even though my last name is Yin,” answered Gemini. Master inquired, “So I’m guessing you’re a mixed race or just pure black?” “Slave mean...Slave think Slave Greek even though Slave black,” shrugged Slave. Looking ahead, Slave spotted a structure he spent a better part of his life in. Slave noticed the painted colors fade with age, as the hulking bodybuilder drew closer. It was a three-story house that was painted in coats of red, pink, and yellow. Any other person would have seen it as a life-sized dollhouse with no coordinated colors. Slave pointed, “That’s Slave’s home.” “Huh...not as luxurious compared to your apartment. Do any of your parents still live here? Cause your house...has not been well-maintained,” remarked Master. The two arrived in front of aged house, as Slave placed a hand on the old white picket fence stationed in front of Slave’s old home. Slave could feel splinters ready to prick his skin; a sign of being weathered down without any recent history of repair. Looking down, Slave saw the grass grown to shin-engulfing heights with spiky weeds poking out. Seeing such sights reminded Slave of old lady Judy’s lawn. It must have been a jungle by now. Slave then also spotted a trail created by the greenery being beaten down many times; leading from the old, wooden gate to the house’s front door. Slave frowned, “No. They left when Slave did.” “Hello there, neighbor!” said a man. Glancing up, Slave spotted an anthropomorphic moose standing in the lawn next door. The moose was dressed in khakis and a sweater with glasses. It stood there doing its usual routine every afternoon; watering the lawn. Slave could feel the old habit taking over. Slave waved, “Hi, Mister Wilson.” “Lovely weather, isn’t it. So swell,” spoke James. Slave nodded, “Yeah, it is.” The hulking bodybuilder turned to the gate and opened it. Leading Slave’s friend onto the grassy path, Slave could hear the Soulem call to Slave. “Wait, that’s a transpecies! You said you didn’t know they existed! There’s one right over there! Your next door neighbor!” accused Master. “He’s not transpecies,” said Slave, “He’s not even a real person.” The Soulem huffed, “What does tha-GAH!” Slave spun around upon hearing Master scream. The Soulem was hunched over; attempting to balance itself from what he just tripped on. “I’m okay...the hell did I trip on?” said Master. Slave gazed down at the object protruding onto the path. Slave could see a flat tire with rusted spokes. Squatting down with the wet spandex package touching the beaten grass, the massive bodybuilder parted the grown grass. The slave replied, “It’s...Slave’s bike.” Master looked at the object. The golden cruiser Slave once rode was now covered in rust. Parts of it, including the handles, had broken off some time ago and had become lost in the sea of grass. Slave left it on the lawn the same day the hulking bodybuilder left Sunnysville after discovering the new powers. Slave wondered how much time passes in Sunnysville. “Geeze, it’s rusted all over and broken into bits. How long did you leave it out?” said the Soulem. Slave answered, “A couple months ago. Right before Slave moved to Skyway City.” “Dude, just what the hell is going on. Nobody here acknowledges my existence, the store interiors are covered in dust, and your old house is the only one that looks like nobody has been in for years. And, my gosh, I can’t even connect to the cloud or usual servers. I’m only finding tidbits of history and current events. There’s not even a year available on the internet calendar! I’m wracking my mind thinking you used to be part of some cult, or you’re from another dimension, or if this is some weird playground kind of deal. You just...You need to tell me now, bro,” said Master. Slave could see the stress and confusion in Master’s eyes. The pain in Slave’s heart upon seeing it felt like a hundred knives stabbing into it. The musclebound bodybuilder tried to carefully ease the Soulem into Sunnysville and its culture, but it was obviously not enough. Slave knew what Slave had to do. The bodybuilder started, “Slave…” “Okay, I’m no longer entertained by this. I wish my previous wish was nulled. Speak normally,” commanded Gemini. The Soulem walked past the slave, as he pulled on the cord of the Dragon Pearls™. The seventh orange ball plopped out of Justice’s hole with a soft, wet noise. Justice groaned from the stretching pleasure, and an increased vacancy within the bodybuilder’s bowels. The glistening pre-ejaculate gushed with an increased flow from his wet, spandex package onto the grassy path. Gemini spoke, “Now c’mon. What’s really up with Sunnysville and all the people and stuff.” Justice paused. He tried to think of the best way to explain it all, but nothing came to mind that sounded acceptable. The musclebound man took a breath and braced himself for the anger Gemini would most likely react to. “Sunnysville...isn’t a real place. It exists in a...I guess you’d call a pocket dimension? And like I told you earlier and before we came here, none of the people here are real,” explained Justice. Gemini frowned, “I thought you were being a total edgelord. Like, because nobody got how you felt and stuff, that they didn’t seem like real people. Or they just seemed happy and well-adjusted all the time.” Justice shook his head, as Gemini’s mood rings transformed to purple. “Naw. They’re all just androids that Hephaestus made. But he did such a rush job making them, that they don’t have any social programming in them. They’re like NPCs. They only say one thing or only say or do something different if you say the right thing. If you don’t follow the script, they freak out. Let me show you,” he replied. Gemini inquired, “Wait, do you mean a guy named Hephaestus or the actual god of fire and blacksmith?” Justice ignored his friend and turned to face his next door neighbor. “Hey, Mr. Wilson,” he called. The moose replied, “Hello there, Justice.” “This is my best friend, Gemini.” pointed Justice. James Wilson immediately reacted like old lady Judy upon hearing Justice speak off-script. His eyes went wide and gazed through Justice. Justice knew the person was not real, but it still hurt the bodybuilder to see it happen. Justice felt the old guilt of hurting a Sunnysville resident when not playing the specific role. The moose spoke, “INPUT CANNOT BE DESIGNATED. DIRECTORY NOT FOUND.” Gemini’s mouth gaped open, as he saw the anthro moose reply. “...Holy shit,” he said. Justice nodded, “Yeah, and I think they only recognize me and my parents as people. I guess that shows how little time Hephaestus had when making all the townsfolk here.” “Oh, and about that other question you asked, it’s the actual god,” he replied. Gemini paused, “Oh.” Justice attempted to give eye contact with his Soulem friend. Filled with so much awkward feelings, it resulted in him staring at the grass. The musclebound bodybuilder clenched his hands, as he forced himself to continue talking. “Yeah...I’m...actually a demigod...or something close to that, I guess. I’m the child of Ares, Aphrodite, and Apollo, and they created me to be a superhero to represent them. And the reason why all three of them got together to make me was to increase my chances of survival, since supervillains are as powerful as them now,” he explained. Gemini spoke up, “That’s...pretty cool. So what does that have to do with you living in Sunnysville?” “A lot, from what my parents told me. It turns out that people who are born with more than one...divinity, I think you’d call it, are pretty powerful. But they have a tendency to become...psychotic and have a short life expectancy,” said Justice. Gemini noted, “And you have three…” “Yep. Three gods that gave me a sliver of their essence to give me life. I mean, I shouldn’t be alive right now. My parents guessed that one of the outcomes would be me literally exploding,” nodded Justice. He continued, “But since I didn’t, that just meant that I would probably go crazy and try killing everyone. So they put me in this pocket dimension and watched over me for over twenty years. The other shoe hasn’t dropped yet, but who knows. I somehow turned out right, and that’s why they let me out.” “Sooo…” hesitated Gemini. Justice interrupted, “What’s kept me stable? I think that it’s cause the essences I was given canceled each other to a weakened point that limited my powers. Kinda why Gilgamesh was stronger than me. But I like to think that it’s cause my parents loved me and tried their best to raise me right. There’s a lot of factors, but I just know that I’m unique and still alive.” “...Shit,” said Gemini. Justice sighed, “Yeah.” “Being here with only your family to actually socialize with and the rest of this world being fake, and you didn’t even know it...Must’ve really fucked you up,” commented Gemini. Justice looked up at the sky, “Especially with nothing ever changing, I guess it did. If it wasn’t for our friendship at stake to distract me, I’d probably be freaking out about your new body. I know I would’ve had a meltdown.” The bodybuilder slowly drew in a long breath; his pectorals lifting upwards. He then let out a quiet exhale, as he remembered something else. The musclebound slave mentioned, “Hm, ya know, I didn’t even know superheroes or magic existed. I just thought they were comic book stuff.” Gemini stared up at his friend with his mouth agape once again. The husky Soulem threw his hands up in intense bewilderment. “...Why?!” questioned Gemini, “It defeats the very purpose of making you into a superhero! Unless...they weren’t trying to inspire you to leave.” Justice shrugged, “Who knows. I’ve forgiven them for what they did to me. Don’t get me wrong, I really wanted to be angry and destroy everything here. But...They were just doing what they thought was right. They didn’t know any better. And I still love them. It might’ve been lonely here, but at least they were always with me. Plus...I’m also afraid I might never come back if I go off the deep end.” “And it makes no sense when I say this that...I hate this place, but I still love it here. It’s predictable here. Familiar. No fights. No stores suddenly closing. And nobody is changing. I can still remember some happy memories here, and all the good times I tried to create...I never realized how suffocating it is to live here,” he continued. Gemini inquired, “Well...did you ever come back here when the real world got too much to handle?” Justice thought back to all the times he laid in bed; staring at the silver key. How every time he passed his closet, the temptation of magically using it would eat at him. But every time it did, all he had to do was think back to his experiences in the real world. All the new friends he was able to make, and all the new things he was able to try. “This is actually the first time I’ve been back, since I came to the real world. It was always so tempting to come back here whenever I was upset at something. But deep down...I knew that if I ever came back here, I’d probably stay here for good. And if it wasn’t for you, Gem, I’d also stop being Justice,” replied the bodybuilder. Gemini cupped his chin, “...Yeah, I guess compared to how Marvelous Man is a blank book, you could be whatever you wanted.” “Pretty much. Anyway, let’s head inside. I’m kinda hoping my family have some leftover cookie cake slices in the fridge,” said Justice. Gemini sighed, “Okay.” Heading to the front door, the Soulem placed his hand on the knob. Gemini swung it open without hesitation, while the color of his mood rings changed to green. The husky Soulem immediately recoiled; clutching at his mouth and nose. “Oh my gosh! What the hell is that smell?!” he choked. As Justice began to lumber over to his friend, he was hit with a foul stench. It smelled like mold and rotting fruit. The musclebound bodybuilder staggered back from the vomit-inducing scent. He dared to peek at the entryway and spotted small objects covering most of the ground. Some of the objects were mashed into the ground, while others were still round. One thing Justice was certain was that they were all engulfed by fungus. He coughed, “I think those are Mr. Wilson’s muffins.” Gemini clamped his hand back onto the doorknob and pulled with abrupt force. The door slammed shut; closing off the waft of disgusting odor. “Why the fuck is your house hoarded up with his muffins?!” gasped the Soulem. Justice panted, “He...leaves them in my house...every Friday. But since…-” “Yeah, I get it. Nobody was around to eat them and they got this bad...Does this dimension exist out of time or something?” interrupted Gemini. With the nasty stench out of his lungs, Justice was able to stand up straight. He tried to remember what his family said to him about Sunnysville. The bodybuilder recalled, “I think so. My dad said this place is like a hyperbolic time chamber.” Gemini turned to the overly-muscular slave, as his mood rings became purple. “So, like, ‘a year in here is a day out there’ sort of thing?” he surmised. Justice shrugged, “I guess. That was the best answer they could give me.” “Wow...they really treated you like a tv dinner. Just stuck you in here and set it to nuke. Presto-chango, they now have their superhero ready to fit in with the modern times,” commented Gemini. The Soulem motioned his hands as if he were performing a magic trick. He fluttered his hands about to express a flashy explosion. The herculean slave giggled, “Yeah, I think that’s how it was when it started out. But I know that my mom for sure stopped thinking about that the moment I was born. Probably my dad too. I remembered that he told me that I was the most perfect baby he’s ever seen. Which is the biggest compliment, since he’s...hehe, a pretty big narcissist. And for Papa-” “I’m guessing that’s Ares?” said Gemini. Justice nodded, “Yeah. He kinda put me on a spartan regimen where I was constantly exercising every day and was taught about war tactics. But when he pushed me too hard and caused my knee to dislocate when I was nine...I think that was when he realized I was his kid and not a soldier. Since then, he’d spoil me and train me at my pace.” “But that’s when my dad, Apollo, had to become the strict parent. He’d try to teach me about discipline of the self when performing art or bodybuilding and tried to teach me values by putting me in the boy scouts.” he continued. The Soulem laughed, “Pfff, hah! Boyscouts?!...Actually that does make some sense about you. Such a damn gentleman all the time.” The musclebound bodybuilder smiled. It felt relieving to talk to someone about his life, and it was with someone he trusted. He did not expect Gemini to take everything so well, but it was nice to see his friend still accepted him. With such a secret no longer a burden, a calming euphoria washed over Justice. A thought crossed his mind that if he was trapped in Sunnysville with Gemini, he’d be alright with such a predicament. “It’s all I know,” shrugged Justice. Gemini looked up at his friend, while his mood ring color became sky blue. He smiled, “Welp, we can’t go in there. Anywhere else you want to show me?” “Hmmm...wanna go to the beach?” suggested Justice. Gemini nodded, “Sure, I’m game for that.” The hulking slave took lead; heading towards the beach with Gemini holding onto his anal leash. Justice thought it was nice to be the one who knew things instead of feeling like a cultural imbecile. “It’s too bad we couldn’t go inside, so I could show you my room. My walls are racked with bodybuilding trophies and all my martial art belts and stuff. Got some classic video games too,” he mused. Gemini teased, “I bet you had a race car bed too.” “I actually do. King-sized and with a waterbed mattress,” grinned Justice. Gemini remarked, “...That’s awesome.” >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The sky had started to take on an orange hue, as the sun began to set. Seagulls could be heard cawing; mixing with the sound of clear, blue waves crashing onto the sand. At this time, the fake people always playing on the beach were packing up to go. On the black boardwalk, a level above the sand, the two were leaving an ice cream cart with delights in their hands. Both of them carried a waffle ice cream cone with a large scoop of strawberry cheesecake flavor. As the best friend duos licked and bit into their treats, they settled onto the edge of the boardwalk. “Oh my gosh. This is so weird!” exclaimed Gemini, “Not the ice cream. It’s so fucking delicious. But even though this is my first ice cream, I get, like...a nostalgic feel from it. It’s both a new and reminiscent feeling I’m getting from eating this.” Justice watched his friend’s black tongue lap at the ice cream and its cheesecake chunk contents. He could not help but be confused at what he was seeing. “So I know this is going to be really obvious when I say this, since I ordered for you. But you can eat now?” he asked. The Soulem shrugged, “Yeah. I have an organic converter in me that burns food into energy. That way, it’s the first reserves I’ll use up, so I won’t have to plug in that often. Plus, it’s pretty therapeutic for Soulems. Helps us take part in the social interaction of human meal time, and it feels really nice to chew and taste.” “Oh...does that mean you poop now too?” said Justice. Gemini smiled, “Nnnnope! Unless, it’s a fetish thing, I don’t got that porthole installed. And cause I’m one-hundred percent top. But yeah, my organic converter creates no waste other than a vapor exhaust.” Justice flexed an eyebrow in confusion, while licking his ice cream. “Meaning?” he said. The bulky Soulem held up his white finger to signal his unavailability to give a verbal answer at that moment. Having finished all of the ice cream exposed above the cone, Gemini began to bite into the waffle cone. He rapidly bit into the cone and chewed his mouthful contents; finishing the sweet snack in seconds. After swallowing the last of it, Gemini paused. A second later, he emitted a loud belch. The Soulem smiled, while flexing his eyebrows several times. He held up his hand to display his face; signifying the answer to Justice’s question. The bodybuilder grinned, “Hehe, that’s cool.” “Not as cool as you,” replied Gemini. The Soulem’s eyes went wide and immediately looked away. His mood ring color had now flashed to pink, as Gemini stared intensely on the ocean in front of the two. He swallowed, “I just wanted to say...I’m sorry about how I’ve been acting like a sexual predator. And that I got angry at you. I get it now. The ignorance and stuff.” Gemini formed a fist with both hands and began to lightly pound them together. “And...I need to come clean about something else. My upgrade was supposed to be a surprise for you, because...I wanted to tell you something...That...you were what caused my awakening,” he admitted. Justice continued to bite into his ice cream at a slow pace. He could feel his heartbeat rise, but he did not want to confirm to himself what his trepidation was about. The Soulem continued, “And as you know, awakenings for a Soulem can happen from experiencing lust or love or other complex emotions. And after you were showing off your silver thong, I felt a thirst...B-basically, I was horny. But...later, after I realized what I went through...I still couldn’t get you out of my head.” “I felt this need to...be...with you. It wasn’t about sex anymore. For the first time, I actually felt lonely not living with you and having to go back to the D.A.B. to recharge and stuff. And I wanted to do more with you. To...hear you laugh. To see you smile. To hold you when you cry...To hold your hand and feel the very atoms and heartbeat of you...I realized that...that…” he hesitated. The husky Soulem stopped bouncing his fists together and gripped the edge of the pavement. Gemini slowly turned his face to Justice with the mood rings emitting a rose red color. A clear lubricant began to collect on the edges of the Soulem’s digital eyes. He confessed, “I love you.” Blood thumped in a deafening rhythm in Justice’s head. He could feel his manhood inflating and straining against the spandex that encased it. He felt happy...then scared...then something else. A spring of different emotions converging at once overwhelmed the bodybuilder’s psyche. Without realizing it, his body reacted to the sudden emotional stress. Justice scrambled to stand up; dropping the ice cream in the process. Taking a leap forward, he attempted to sprint as fast as his musclebound body could move. As he managed to take two steps forward, the Dragon Pearls™ magically bound to his pumped anus yanked on the ring attached to Gemini’s finger. The Soulem was immediately dragged across the ground. “OW. OW. OWWW!!!” cried Gemini. A second after being pulled onto the pavement, the silver ring came off of Gemini’s digit. The overly-muscular slave instantly froze in place; stuck in a running pose. The bulky Soulem pushed himself up and stomped towards the inanimate Justice. Gemini’s mood ring transformed to orange. He shouted, “Fatherf-BITCH, DID YOU JUST TRY TO BOLT ON ME?!” “I’m sorry,” whimpered Justice, “...I didn’t know what to do, and I just freaked out...it’s what I do when I’m really mad or stressed. If I was Marvelous Man, I could’ve handled it better...” Gemini exclaimed, “Maybe just say that you’re not into me?! I mean, it sure as shit would’ve hurt a lot less than being pulled across the pavement! Which, by the way, not cool, bro!” Justice remained silent, as the Soulem finally caught up to the musclebound slave seconds later. Gemini walked around Justice and stationed himself in front of the hulking bodybuilder. Justice could not look his friend in the eye and remained staring at his mammoth pecshelf. “...I couldn’t say that to you...because...that’s not how I feel. Being here with you...I felt...happy. I didn’t feel trapped. And you tried your best to understand me. It’s...one of the reasons I like about you...You’re an ass for being honest all the time, but you listen to me. You actually want to know me other than how much I can lift or if I’m a top. I feel like we have a lot of similarities, and it’s nice to know that I don’t feel like an outcast when I’m with you,” said Justice. Gemini huffed, “Thennn, why not just take it slow, and we, ya know, date.” The hulking bodybuilder wanted to immediately say yes. His voice began to rise in agreement, but the image of Gene Lightfoot instantly materialized in his mind. His heart felt torn. He wanted to be with Gemini, but he was giving his work partner a chance at love. The idea of keeping such a fact secret from the Soulem popped up. But doing such a thing would eat at Justice’s conscious for the rest of his life. “I would...but...I’m already dating Gene,” answered Justice. The Soulem frowned, “Wait...that illiterate bunny man? Fffff-of course you would. Who wouldn’t with all that erotic emotion he is literally emitting.” “Hey! Don’t say that about him! Of course he can read, and that’s not why I’m seeing him,” spat Justice. Gemini pointed at his head, “Uh, no he can’t. Those rabbit ears of his only translates oral language. Anything wrote down is chicken scratch to him. I should know, I was the one who was told to set the language on his electronic scroll to his native language. But surprise, surprise. A country that is closed off to outsiders, and its language that isn’t widespread, isn’t available on any digital format.” Justice thought back to all the times Gene did not or refused the opportunity to read. There was the time the bunny demigod did not use their personal scroll to review information sent by Fairuza. Then there was the first date the two had. The rabbit superhero looked perplexed by the English menu at the Toto’s restaurant and decided to order whatever Marvelous Man chose. At the art museum, Gene asked Marvelous Man to read the placards out loud...Even though it added up, Justice felt it was still not a nice thing for Gemini to say. The hulking bodybuilder looked at Gemini. Realizing his friend was a robot, Justice figured there should have been more than one way to fix the language issue with Gene’s digital scroll. “But…” said Justice, “Can’t you just modify-” “I’m not that kind of Soulem, dammit! I don’t have the mind of a computer programmer, and I can’t ‘ghost’ myself into the coding! Just-fuck. Getting off track. Just...why? Why are you into him if it’s supposedly not for sex?!” shouted Gemini. The overly-muscular slave thought back to the personal interactions with the bunny demigod. Gene was a super strong superhero that had an abundance of beautiful physical features. But the rabbit superhero never let his powers inflate his ego and approached everything with gentleness when it did not involve lewd practices. He always seemed calm and happy but never hid his sad and pained side whenever he interacted with Marvelous Man. The only times he was truly angry was upon witnessing any injustice. He was a model superhero in Justice’s eyes: flawed, empowered, and kind. Justice explained, “He’s...a nice guy. He cares about the people nobody wants to pay attention to. And he’s really strong too. But I also understand his pain. That he has to be here to find better things in life, but nothing ever feels like it can be a second home. He might seem shallow, cause he likes sex...a lot. But he’s much deeper than that. People don’t care to know more about him once they get what they want from him...which is banging him. We’re different in a lot of ways, but we’re able to share our frustrations together.” “I’m sorry, Gemini. I didn’t think of you in a romantic way until now, cause...I was just happy with the way things are. But…” he continued. Gemini proposed, “Then date both of us. I’m...I can do a polyamorous thing. I mean, you got a big enough bed to fit all of us and stuff.” It sounded like a perfect fantasy in Justice’s mind. His giant memory-foam mattress with all three laying naked on it. He’d be sandwiched in between his two lovers with Gene on his right and Gemini on his left and holding both their hands. The threesomes they would have would be legendary, and he would be able to share his love with both of them. But whenever he would give Gene attention, he would feel those mood rings burning into his back with a radioactive green. “It wouldn’t work out. I know you’d get jealous. Wouldn’t be right if I put you through that,” sighed Justice. He requested, “Just...just give me two weeks. By then, I’ll have it figured out.” Gemini paused. His eyes darted left and rights, as if he were mulling over what Justice had asked of him. “Did he even say he loved you? Or at least like you?” questioned the Soulem. The hulking bodybuilder thought back to all of his interactions with Gene Lightfoot. The only reason the bunny demigod went out on a date with Justice, was because Gene thought it would be fun. They shared tender moments together, and the Totochtin prince said he was on the same best friend level as Director Doug. And the kiss the two had...was it really only Justice that enjoyed it? He hesitated, “I mean...we ha-” “Answer the question, Justice. Yes or no?” interjected Gemini. Justice paused, “...no.” The Soulem huffed, as he turned around. Back facing Justice, Gemini crossed his arms. His body lightly swayed about for a few seconds before facing back to Justice. The Soulem’s face showed resignation, while throwing his arms up in an exaggerated fashion. “Fine. Whatever. Have your two weeks. But don’t expect me to be surprised, if I’m not as receptive to when you finally come around. I’m only agreeing to this, cause I love you,” he said. Justice dryly swallowed, “I’m sorry. I really am. This is the first time I’ve ever had to deal with this…with love and the complex stuff, I mean.” “Yeah, yeah. Join the club. Let’s just go now. I’ve learned your origin story, so let’s get out of this town simulator.” frowned Gemini. Justice’s eyes darted about, “Ummm, I’d like to, but I kinda need you to...ya know.” “Oh...right,” said Gemini. Walking around the petrified, musclebound slave, Gemini stopped behind Justice’s basketball-sized glutes. The bulky Soulem leaned down and reached underneath the perfectly round buttocks. He grabbed an orange sphere that was dangling outside of the bodybuilder’s donut-shaped hole and stood up. He commanded, “I wish...that you couldn’t remove a tattoo I put on you.” Justice looked over his shoulder. “Huh?” said Justice, “That’s a weird thing to-GYAH!!!” Next Chapter
  16. EcchiMultiverse

    Marvelous Man - Chapter 16

    All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=1O52F8UJS70fDmrK2gYawUXBtklu8IEUwpOdaOZrPuoM) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ For first looks and more illustrations, check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ecchimultiverse First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter SPECIAL THANKS TO MY PATRONS: CHRISTOPHER FLOYD & DONALD MORGAN All comments and critiques are welcomed here and on my Google Docs(https://drive.google.com/open?id=1O52F8UJS70fDmrK2gYawUXBtklu8IEUwpOdaOZrPuoM) For other chapters, I will post them on here later. But you can find the archives on my FA and Tumblr with pics included. FA: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/ecchimultiverse/ Tumblr: http://ecchimultiverse.tumblr.com/ For first looks and more illustrations, check out my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ecchimultiverse First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter SPECIAL THANKS TO MY PATRONS: CHRISTOPHER FLOYD & DONALD MORGAN Chapter 16: Wrongs, Rights, and Rimming? Marvelous Man’s reality felt like it was becoming undone. He had been careful to balance his two different lives without raising any suspicion from his friends and teammates. Adrenaline kept accelerating his heart rate with the sound of pumping blood raging in his ears, and it took every ounce of the musclebound superhero’s will to keep his breath steady. There were plenty of questions racing through his mind, but one statement drowned out the inquiries: SHIT!!! In one huge reveal, Gemini now had a new body that was exotically erotic and masculine. Apparently, he had also been employed by the D.A.B. to act as the team’s new member as a technician. But the one thing Marvelous Man hoped would not happen is Gemini recognizing Justice in his alter ego. The probability of that happening at this very moment can be compared to pulling a pin out of a grenade and not exploding. Gemini had just subtly outed Marvelous Man, while offering a handshake. There was no other choice but to keep playing along in order to keep up face. Marvelous Man accepted the handshake; gripping it with caution. The muscle demigod could feel Gemini squeezing hard enough that it felt like his hand was going to turn into a diamond. This would become the second time today his hand would be crushed. He strained back a smile. Marvelous Man stammered, “R-really? What a coimidam-I mean, coincidence.” “Yeah, I bet,” grinned Gemini. The Director sipped his glass of sweet tea before continuing. “Marvelous Man, I’ll need you to debrief Mr. Yin here about our current situation with the Skeleton Lord,” Director Skye ordered,” As for you, Gene, I’ll need you with me when we start interrogating our petrified guest. I supposed he will respond better with you in his visual vicinity.” “Understood,” bowed Gene. Director Doug turned to Fairuza. He drawled, “Fairuza, I’ll need you to help record our interrogation. Maybe you can find something whatever Gilgamesh spills to get us a better idea about our skeletal problem. Especially with how he is associated with that fiend and how he managed to keep his youth.” “Yes, sir. Of course,” replied Fairuza. The Director smiled, “Splendid. Now if y’all excuse me, we still have about two hours left before our guest thaws out, and I will be taking my lunch.” >>>>>>>>>>>>>> Being dismissed from Director Skye’s office, Marvelous Man and Gemini made their way towards the elevator. Neither said a word, but Marvelous Man was too aware of the tension between them. It was seconds after they entered the elevator and it closing behind them, that he tried to break the ice. “So…” said Marvelous Man, “uhhh, as the Director told you, we’re dealing with the Skele-” “Why didn’t you tell me that you’re a superhero?” interrupted Gemini. Marvelous Man paused, “I...am a superhero. Is my outfit not cl-” “DON’T! Bullshit with me, Justice! I know it’s you. I have facial recognition software like every other Soulem!” exclaimed Gemini. He continued, “I mean, at least have the decency to put on a mask or something. You can blend in with the crowds of other giant black bodybuilders in this city, but that can only fool human eyes.” The muscle demigod said nothing. Marvelous Man stared down at the ground; incapable of making any eye contact with his Soulem friend. The elevator dinged as it passed the fourth floor. “When we first met, you told me you were a trust-fund baby and was in between jobs,” recanted Gemini. Marvelous Man answered, “...That wasn’t a lie...at the time. After I met you that same day, the D.A.B. hired me to become a full-time hero. Before that, I had just got my superhero license and was patrolling as a hobby.” “Oh...Still, why didn’t you tell me? I thought we were friends...maybe even best friends,” frowned Gemini. The husky Soulem’s mood rings turned to a deep blue. Marvelous Man looked up at his best friend. It struck a chord in his heart to hear someone openly validate their friendship with the bodybuilder superhero. “We are! It’s just that...I mean...I wanted to protect you and my loved ones. I don’t want my enemies to know about you and hurt you, Gemini,” explained Marvelous Man. Gemini looked at Marvelous Man with a face of bewilderment, while his mood rings turned grey. He exclaimed, “What kind of fatherfucking logic is that?! Did your understanding of the world come from an old-timey comic book or something?! I ‘supposedly’ have close relations to the you that is Justice fatherfucking Starr. Because of that, I have to know your superhero alter ego, so that I can prepare myself in the event that your well-known enemies try to get the drop on your civilian life by targeting me.” The elevator dinged again, as it passed by the third floor. Mood rings flashing red, Gemini crossed his arms. “You’re doing more harm than good. You’re not helping. You’re just being selfish,” he lectured. Marvelous Man’s vision began to turn murky, as he could feel something building up in his eyes. He clenched his fists. He was a superhero. Superheroes do not cry. They must be a symbol of unwavering strength. But…the fear of losing the only friend Justice had and the sadness of betraying Gemini’s trust felt more painful than Gilgamesh breaking his entire hand. He choked a whisper, “...I’m sorry…” Gemini stared into the muscle demigod’s eyes. As he did so, the Soulem’s mood rings’ color shifted into white. His hand slowly drifted to Marvelous Man’s until it hesitated halfway. Changing direction, Gemini placed his hand on the bodybuilder superhero’s bulging shoulder. “...I care about you, Justice. You’re the only friend around here that I have, and I barely know you. Please...tell me the truth. Just everything...anything at all...Please,” he sighed. Marvelous Man closed his eyes to prevent any seeping liquids. He could barely hear the elevator’s ding of descending passed the second floor. The musclebound superhero sobbed, “...Okay.” >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Soon after Marvelous Man calmed down, the two relocated themselves at Marvelous Man’s apartment. Marvelous Man did not leave as Justice earlier that day, so the he had to enter the premise through the roof access. The muscle demigod then fished a silver key out of his pocket while making his way down the steps. “Ya know, I think this is the first time I’ve been on your roof. We should go swimming on your roof’s pool before fall sets in,” mentioned Gemini. Marvelous Man nodded, “Yeah, sure. I’ve never dipped in there yet.” “That’s a shame. Too much time taken up from superheroing?” inquired Gemini. Marvelous Man answered, “Yeah, and cause I spend all my free time hanging out with you. You kinda had a fragile body back then, so that’s why all we did was walk around the mall and watch anime.” The Soulem’s mood ring flashed to pink, while he flustered. “Oh...Well...thanks for being considerate,” replied Gemini. The muscle demigod smiled, “No problem.” Marvelous Man then stopped in front of his living room closet. He briefly remember his first time arriving in the real world through there. While the process of going to another world felt somewhat magical, crossing over and arriving into the real world was so instant and tame. The bodybuilder superhero place the silver key into the door’s lock; jangling an ice cream sundae with a cherry on top keychain attached to the silver key. “Soooo, are you gonna tell me who you are and stuff? Cause I assumed you brought me back to your apartment, cause you’d feel more comfortable dishing it here...did I really just say that?” said Gemini. Marvelous Man turned to Gemini, as the Soulem’s mood ring changed to white. He spoke, “I do, but I have to show you something first before I can explain everything about me. I promise it’ll make sense once I do. Just let me change before I show you.” Raising his arms above his head, the muscle demigod placed his golden bracelets on top of the other. Marvelous Man chanted, “Marvelous Muscle Magic, Metamorph!!!” The bodybuilder superhero was instantly transported into his transformation void. After having to do it countless times to maintain his double life, he no longer dreaded it. The feelings from the transportation and assailing on his erogenous zones were at first annoyance, then numbness, and finally accepting it and enjoying the teasing pleasures. His heroic outfit exploded like shattered glass; leaving his musclebound body floating nude in the void. This was then followed by silver paint slapping at his glutes and groin. His muscular globes jiggled in every direction, as silver fabric began to form. Once the hulking man’s silver thong fully materialized, the transformation vacuum collapsed. Justice landed gently on his large feet. Taking a breath to appreciate the pleasurable transformation, Justice could feel his sex at half mast. The bodybuilder looked at his handsome Soulem friend and noticed the bulging movements in Gemini’s zaffre fundoshi. Justice’s mouth began to water, as his thoughts wondered about his friend’s robotic penis. He then realized that Gene’s hypersexuality was starting to seep into his personality. “So...you have to say that every time to transform?” coughed Gemini. Justice sighed, “Yeah. At first it was kinda embarrassing to say, but I got used to it.” The musclebound man attempted to change the subject in the hopes of distracting his thoughts and changing Gemini’s dark red mood ring. “Did I ever tell you where I came from?” asked Justice. Gemini lightly nodded his head, as his mood ring’s color turned into purple. The Soulem recalled, “Yeah, you said you came from Sunnysville?” “Uh-huh. And I want to take you there. It’ll make sense once I show you, I swear,” said Justice. Gemini’s mood ring flashed grey, as he gave Justice a confused look. He replied, “Oookaaay...Like, right now? What, we gonna use teleportation magic or…?” The Soulem tilted his head, while his eyes gazed upon the silver key in the closet’s lock. His mood ring immediately shifted to a purple. “Wait a sec! Are we gonna walk through your closet like that magical wardrobe?!” inquired Gemini. Justice could see the curious giddy in his friend’s digital eyes. The bodybuilder replied, “Ummm, I’m not sure what you’re referencing to. But yeah, we’re gonna be walking through my closet.” Gemini’s white eyes dilated like a cat enraptured by euphoric catnip. “Oh my gosh, dimensional magic?! I am going to flip if you’re telling the-uhhh...wh-what are you doing?” stammered the Soulem. During Gemini’s flabbergast, Justice had bent down in an attempt to take off his silver thong. He continued to slide it down his tree-trunk thighs while looking up. The musclebound man noticed his robotic friend’s mood ring began to constantly fluctuate between pink, grey, and dark red. He replied, “Hm? Oh, I’m just taking these off. Nobody in Sunnysville is real, so it doesn’t matter if I’m naked. You can take yours off too, if you want.” “I’m, uh, I’m good,” said Gemini. As the Soulem watched his overly muscular friend pull the silver thong down to the ankles, his mood ring color shifted to black. A wicked smile crept on his silver face. Gemini spoke up, “Soooo, if you’re not gonna wear anything, mind if ya let me dress you?” The hulking bodybuilder stood up and kicked away his thong. He then looked at the husky android with a puzzled face; unsure if he heard his friend right. “Huh?” said Justice. Gemini pressed, “Just saying. It doesn’t matter if you’re not wearing anything, since you said the people aren’t real...which is a really weird thing to say-Sorry, getting off topic. But c’mon, let me dress you. It’s not like you can be embarrassed.” Justice had never seen the Soulem’s mood ring take on a black hue, but he knew it could not be good. His instinct told him that something was amiss and to say no. But he felt like he would be letting down his friend again if he refused. The bodybuilder already hurt Gemini’s feelings once today and did not wish to do it again. “Okay,” he sighed. Gemini replied, “Great! I’ll be right back!” As the beefy Soulem’s mood ring color changed to light blue, Gemini ran to Justice’s bedroom. Justice tried to shake his unease. It seemed like an odd idea, but it could be fun. He wondered if he had the will to refuse whatever Gemini wanted him to wear. The worst thing the Soulem could do is make him wear his buttplug. He then told himself it would not be so bad, since they are only touring Sunnysville. “Dude, did you buy some anime replica sex toy?” shouted Gemini. Justice flexed his eyebrows in confusion before his eyes bulged at a faint memory. A while back, he thought it would be fun to purchase sex toys from the internet that were shaped like props from famous television shows and movies. There was only one that caught his eye that was quite similar and came at a hefty price. And after purchasing it, he forgot about trying it out; leaving it to occupy a corner of his room. Gemini continued, “Dragon Pearls™ anal balls? Some kind of Chinese knockoff? Oh wow, yeah, instead of stars, it’s got Chinese characters, heh. Geeze, it’s heavy! What is this, fourty pounds?” “Shit,” muttered Justice. Exiting Justice’s bedroom, Gemini lightly jogged back to his bodybuilder friend. He was carrying several objects in his hands, but there was something else that would catch anybody’s attention. Slinged over his shoulders and around the back of his neck were eight orange spheres interconnected with a white string. The crystal-like orbs were bigger than softballs and had red Chinese characters planted in their centers. The Soulem’s devilish smile was even wider than before, and the color of his mood rings were constantly phasing back and forth with dark red and black. Evil seemed to be dancing in Gemini’s eyes; sending a chill down Justice’s spine. Justice quickly reasoned, “Those aren’t clothes.” “Neither is your Marvelous Man bikini, yet you wear it in public cause it technically clothes your immense dong and balls,” shot back Gemini. The Soulem whined, “C’mon, broooo. You said you’d let me dress you. I mean, are you not able to fit this in you?” “I can...but I don’t want to,” replied the bodybuilder. Gemini continued griping, “Justice. C’moooon. Please? You seriously gonna take back your word?” Justice did not need Gene’s ability to sense the sexual hunger radiating out of Gemini. He knew it was going to be awkward getting pleasured by his best friend. The bodybuilder briefly wondered if all Soulems with supposed functional sex organs were as perverted as Gemini was starting to become. Knowing that he would never hear the end of it and probably hurt their friendship, Justice knew what he had to do. “Fine,” sighed the hulking bodybuilder. Gemini beamed, “Yes! I brought some lube if you need it.” “I don’t, but it’ll make this go a lot faster. Just let me clean myself out first,” said Justice. The overly muscular man thumped his way over to the bathroom. His thick cock loudly slapped against his thunderous thighs with every step. Gemini called out, “Maybe you should get a spell tattooed on yourself, so you can stay permanently clean. Unless you’re like, ya know, some sort of supernatural being or have an artificial colon.” >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The bulge in Gemini’s zaffre fundoshi pushed against the fabric with furious determination at a chance to be fully erect and free of the tie-string loincloth. In one hand, he held a bottle of Crack Addict lube and the Dragon Pearls™ in the other. The Soulem’s mood ring color flashed an intense dark red, as he stared at the erotic sight in front of him. Splayed open was Justice’s rear end. The bodybuilder stretched his legs open into a perfect split; resting his exceedingly meaty legs on the couch. With nothing to keep his massive bubble glutes together, his virgin hole was left exposed for the Soulem to behold. “Well? You gonna do it or not?” said Justice. Upon Justice voicing his impatience, Gemini shook his head to relieve the carnal daze in his eyes. The Soulem replied, “Huh? Oh, yeah! Sure. Just, uh, give me a second to lube up.” “Just put it on the balls. My ass doesn’t need the prepping,” said Justice. Gemini nodded, “Yeah, I can tell. It’s already got a gape. But, ummm, how’d you get it to be so puffy? It’s like a donut.” “Anal pump. I’ve been using it for...huh, it’s been years, but I actually lost count, heh. But I had to get a new one when I moved here,” explained Justice. Gemini exclaimed, “Damn! How are you not a sex obsessed being if you buy all these sexy clothes and sex toys?! You don’t bother eye-banging every guy we pass by when we go to the mall and stuff.” “I still do. Just not with every guy. And I just feel that all my sex stuff should be kept home in my own privacy. But if I was still in my teens, I would’ve let you bang me without question, hehe,” stated the bodybuilder, “But what about you? You’re trying to put a toy in me and keep staring at my hole.” The Soulem sighed, “Sorry. After my awakening and getting my new body, the moderators for my upgrade said that I’d have a hyper interest in sex for the next week or so. So it should go away soon.” “Oh, right! I totally forgot! Congratulations on your awakening! I guess that’s why you got a new body, huh?” said Justice. He then paused for a second as realization hit him. The musclebound man spoke up, “Ohhhh, so that’s why it’s also called robo puberty!” “Yeah...so I’m really sorry if I keep drooling whenever I look at you. It’s just that...your body is really hypnotizing. Especially your asshole,” licked Gemini. While Justice was used to people flirting with him, it was different to hear his best friend complement the sexual appeal of his body. It sent a tingling sensation that aroused his man meat to twitch and harden. Gemini has made comments about his body before, but it was usually about his bigness or strength. However, his Soulem friend’s new statement roused a new hunger in Justice that felt like it could only be sated with more of those sexy comments...or maybe more. Justice hesitated, “Oh. It’s cool. But thanks for saying that. Ummm, can you put it in me now?” Gemini said nothing, as his eyes kept staring at Justice’s pillow-like bussy. He walked towards the bodybuilder’s hole, as if he were in a trance, and kneeled down. The Soulem slowly leaned forward until his face planted against the stretched buttocks. With his nose pressing against the soft, donut-shaped anus, Gemini’s nose inhaled the manly scent. “Fffffuuuuuck…” exhaled the Soulem. The musclebound man flexed an eyebrow in confusion. He felt something odd, but it was not a feeling of penetration. Opening his mouth, Gemini’s black tongue rolled out. It looked almost like a normal tongue until it began to flex and undulate like a worm. As it slithered in the air, the wet tongue started to glow a soft neon blue. The glimmering, blue tongue wriggled its way onto the bodybuilder’s perineum; tasting the smooth, chocolate taint. Floundering about, Gemini’s tongue layered the soft area with Soulem saliva. The blue muscle was still not satisfied, and trailed down the perineum’s line. It met its unfortunate end, as it collided against the couch. Justice sharply gasped, “G-GEM?! Wha-” Tilting his head up, Gemini snaked his glowing tongue back into his mouth. The Soulem’s silver lips brushed against the overly-muscled rump’s. With them perfectly aligned, Gemini’s face pressed further into the exposed buttock. Justice could hear a wet smooch, as the bulky android puckered and kissed several times. “Wh-what are you doing?!” moaned Justice. He could feel a tickling sensation on his anus, but it was hard to describe. It was wet, and it felt so good. It also felt teasing, and he wanted more but not knowing what it was scared him a bit. He could also feel a big object pressing against his thick rear. The object felt smooth and metallic, but it was warm instead of the expected cold. He briefly wondered just what Gemini was applying before a new sensation took over; melting his ability to move or resist. Gemini opened his mouth, during the mouth to anus make out session, to allow his glimmering, blue tongue to squirm out. It swirled over the pillowy rim of the entrance in slow, clockwise motions. Upon completing a rotation, Gemini would return back to kissing. He would smooch the hole’s lips a few more times before releasing his blue tongue in the opposite direction. With the pumped rim now thoroughly wet, the Soulem’s tongue went into a new direction. The blue tongue slowly slid into the gaping hole. It burrowed deep into fleshy tunnel like a worm without a hint of defiance from the muscle ring. It squirmed in every direction before returning into the metallic mouth. Immediately after, the glimmering appendage darted right back into the bodybuilder’s rectum to taste the virgin meat and explore every part of it. Justice laid on the couch in his perfect leg split; moaning in ecstasy. The tickling, pleasurable sensation now traveled inside of himself. He was powerless to stop Gemini’s unseen action, as he could no longer form a coherent thought. The bodybuilder was now mindless; lost in a lust fog with his eyes rolled back into his skull. The senses in his head spun, and he could no longer tell what was up or down. Pleasures of electricity zipped across his spine; twitching every muscle cord in his body. He whimpered, “Gem…” Gemini stood up. His robotic erection strained against the zaffre fundoshi and lined up against Justice’s pumped, wet hole. The Soulem looked down and reached for the drawstring of his mokko fundoshi before stopping midway. The bottle of Crack Addict lube and the Dragon Pearls™ were still in his hands, and his mood ring color switched to grey. His eyes darted about as if he snapped out of his trance and wondering what just happened. Keeping silent, Gemini quickly doused the orange anal balls with the sex lubricant brand. The color of his mood ring during the lubrication changed to yellow, before fading back to dark red upon finishing. Dropping to his knees, the Soulem placed the bottle of lube on the ground. He then grabbed the crystal orb on the end of the white string, and placed it against Justice’s gaping hole. The donut-shaped entrance widened upon the lubricated Dragon Pearl™ pressing against it. As the hole enveloped the orange orb, it accepted it with a soft, wet shlop. Justice grunted in pleasure from being stretched and filled. The gaping orifice then twitched as if it were a mouth hungry for more. Gemini carefully proceed with the second orb; resulting in the same outcome. The bulky Soulem continued to shove the rest of the crystal balls into Justice’s plump opening. As he slid the last ball in, his hand accidentally slipped in. Justice moaned at the sudden fisting, while Gemini playfully rolled his hand about. Smirking, Gemini pulled his wet hand out with a loud plop. All eight orbs were successfully fed into the hungry hole. The only evidence of such a feat was a ring attached to the anal ball’s white string; hanging outside the pillowy rim. Gemini stood up and gazed upon his handiwork. A shiny, orange glint shimmered from within Justice’s virgin chasm. Gemini’s eye wandered about Justice’s twitching body that was still paralyzed by the onslaught of euphoria. His mood ring transitioned to black. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Justice opened his eyes. He felt full and surmised that Gemini successfully inserted the Dragon Pearls™ into him. He then wondered how he ended up on his back, as the ceiling and the top of his pectorals now stared back at him. There was also something clung around his neck, but it did not matter at this moment. The bodybuilder remembered his anus was being tickled and then lost his sense of self and time. As he tried to recall the event, Justice then felt an intense itching on his hole. Trying to sit himself up, Justice spotted Gemini. The husky Soulem stood in front of him; holding a bag of shiny objects. The color on Gemini’s mood ring had now went back to being white. “...How long was I out?” hesitated Justice. Gemini smiled, “Long enough for me to put on the finishing touches of your new outfit.” Justice positioned himself to get up before noticing something else. “Why am I still doing the splits?” he asked. Gemini shrugged, “You looked really sexy doin that, so I split your legs again after I flipped you over. You’re surprisingly flexible for a super buff guy. It wasn’t even a struggle to get your legs to do it.” “Years of gymnastics and yoga,” answered Justice. Gemini flexed a suspicious golden eyebrow. He inquired, “Between all the bodybuilding?” “I had a lot of free time back in Sunnysville,” shrugged Justice, “Anyways, let me see what you did before we go.” Breaking from his split pose, the hulking bodybuilder placed his legs together and stood up from the leather couch. Justice thumped his heavy body back towards his bedroom and could hear a jingling of bells that he could not identify its origin. He could feel the anal balls wiggling inside of him with every thunderous step he took. Justice mentally admitted to himself that although it was weird to feel so much stuffed into his body, it did feel pleasurable and sexy knowing he took it all in. As he approached the bedroom door, he could not ignore another sensation he had been feeling since he woke up. Justice’s hole itched and twitched with an intensity that needed to be scratched. It was greater than its usual urges to be stretched and filled. Justice thought the anal balls were enough but figured it might have increased his endurance to take on more. As he reached down to pet the sexually-hungered mouth, the bodybuilder heard his Soulem friend shout. “Oh! That reminds me,” said Gemini. Dropping the bag of shiny objects, the bulky android ran to the musclebound man and stopped within touching distance. Gemini grabbed the Dragon Pearls’™ ring, hanging out of Justice’s anus on a white string, with one hand and placed the other on the bodybuilder’s wide back. He yanked as if he were trying to start up a lawn mower. Gemini commanded, “I wish you wouldn’t touch your hole until the Dragon Pearls™ are completely out.” Immediately after Gemini said his wish, Justice’s hole began to bulge against an object trying to exit. An orange orb was pulled out of virgin rectum with a wet plop ringing in the air. The bodybuilder gasped at the sudden stretch and partial loss of fullness. Electricity danced in Justice’s body, as the musclebound man was now paralyzed by the pleasurable shock. Before Justice had time to breathe, Gemini yanked the white string again. “I wish that you can’t take off the outfit I put on you until the Dragon Pearls™ are completely out,” added the Soulem. Another crystal anal ball popped out of donut-shaped hole. Justice’s body was assaulted by the multiple sensations but managed to gain enough willpower to do one action. The musclebound man held out his arms and braced himself against the doorframe. In the act of doing so, Justice sacrificed the power in his legs. The bodybuilder sagged to the floor, as his overly-muscular legs could no longer stand. Justice’s rear end poised up upon reaching the tiled ground; held up by the anal leash grasped in Gemini’s fingers. The bodybuilder shuddered, “F-Father...fucker...Wh-what did...you do...that for?” Gemini playfully tugged at the Dragon Pearls™ string. The orbs did not react this time; causing Justice’s round, muscle rump to be lifted higher up. Squatting down, the bulky Soulem slid his white, rubbery index finger halfway into Justice’s pumped hole. He then twirled in finger in a slow clockwise motion; eliciting wimpy moans from the hulking bodybuilder. Gemini licked his lips with his glowing, blue tongue, as his mood ring flashed to dark red. “Just testing it. Apparently, this anime knockoff sex toy is a magical object,” he replied. Justice moaned, “What?!” Even though he should be angry and having many different emotions about this situation, Justice felt himself sinking back into the lust fog. All of his emotions were being drained by Gemini toying with his hole. Justice wanted to fight back, but a bigger part of him wanted to give in. Especially since the itching sensation on his anal lips was finally being relieved a little bit. “Yeah. I’m surprised you didn’t look at the booklet in the box. Or at the very least, read the description info on whatever site you bought it from. But I guess when you have all the money to burn, things like that or even the price won’t deter you,” said Gemini. The Soulem rambled, “Basically, the Dragon Pearls™ are a mind control device that isn’t labeled as a magical mind control device, cause those are illegal. Not to mention, they would have been cancelled out by the magical mind control disruptors placed all over the city to prevent mind hacking. But this enchanted sex toy uses lust energy and can only compel a person once they give consent to have the balls put in them. So it would be really hard for a terrorist to use it against the president or something.” “Anyways, once they’re in you, I’m able to give you eight commands, but I have to start it with ‘I wish’. And every time I command you, I have to pull out a ball for it to work. Don’t worry though, I won’t make you do anything rapey like having sex with me. But apparently, the eighth command is permanent, and all the previous ones are temporary depending on how much lust energy was absorbed,” he continued. Justice could not believe what he was hearing. He thought to himself that he really needed to pay better attention to the description info before he bought something on the internet. No wonder that sex toy had all those zeroes. Gemini explained, “So I’m just gonna say in advance that I’m really sorry about all this, and that I don’t have much control over myself. I’m just super horny right now, and I just am now realizing what a sadist me and my dad really are. Sooooo, while my inhibitions are really low, I’m just gonna try to enjoy this as much as possible. Consider it payback for keeping a secret from your best friend that could have explained why we couldn’t have hung out all those times you were heroing before I got my upgrade.” The hulking bodybuilder tried to sigh, but it ended up turning into a moan. Gemini was not going to let it go even after Justice apologized. He then figured it was better to play along with Gemini’s role play, to keep his best friend happy. But when Justice has hit his limit, he will stop pretending to be deceived by the husky Soulem. “Fine. But...why does...my asshole itch...so much?” asked Justice. The Soulem smirked, “Grabbed a bottle of Crack Addict from your room. It’s that irritant lube that makes ya itch wherever you apply it to. Must be driving you pretty wild, huh, bro?” “Yeah...Can I get up now?” said Justice. Ceasing the finger twirl on Justice’s hole, Gemini uncoiled the white string that had wrapped around his finger from the action. The Soulem then slapped his hand down on the bodybuilder’s massive, round glutes; causing the skin and fat underneath it to ripple like a stone tossed into a pond. Justice moaned loudly from the buttocks assault and again from Gemini leaning down to give the donut-shaped hole one final lick with his glowing, blue tongue. He replied, “Now you can.” Justice remained face down for a few more seconds before collecting enough strength in his massive legs to stand up. At full height, his hands remained braced against the doorframe to keep his body straight. The bodybuilder then opened the door and slowly thumped his mammoth-sized body into his bedroom. Other than the anal balls inside of him moving, he could now feel the two orange orbs outside of him slapping against the back of his tree-trunk thighs. It was almost as if he had a tail. Finding the many wall-sized mirrors installed on the wall, he stood in front to gaze at his appearance. He became perplexed at what he saw, and realized he really needed to pay more attention to what he bought. The outfit Gemini made him wear was technically allowed for public dressed, but it was on the same level as Gene’s dating wardrobe. A gold-plated slave collar was now adorned around his neck. It had a short-lengthed chain linked to the front of the collar and drooped down into the cleft of Justice’s colossal pecs. Justice spotted his ankles had also been arrested with gold-plated slave cuffs that had small bells linked onto the sides. Focusing on his crotch, he noticed his hefty family jewels had been fitted through a golden cock ring that had been lined with a stretchy fabric. The shiny, metallic silver spandex housed his sexual fruits and stretched to a skin tightness that every detail of his manliness can be seen. The shiny spandex had the word “IT” printed in large, metallic gold spandex, so that even his crotch spelled out that he was bounded to a submissive, sexual servitude. Justice’s eyes were finally drawn to the last of what Gemini put on him. Shimmering on his belly button and his forehead were body jewelry rhinestones. They were white and sparkled like diamonds. The one on his belly button was the biggest of the two; completely covering the fleshy depression with a circular shape. As for the one applied onto the center of his forehead, it had a diamond-shaped rhombus figure to it. More than likely, these rhinestones were the final pieces, since that is what was most likely in the bag Gemini held when Justice woke up. “Am I supposed to be some sort of sci-fi slave prince?” guessed Justice. Gemini shrugged, “Something like that. I just grabbed what I thought would look sexy on you.” Justice looked in the mirror again to take in his new appearance. There was something exciting about wearing such an outfit, and it was starting to grow on him. It felt as if Gemini had awakened something within him. He always knew he was a power bottom but did being subjugated turn him on? The musclebound bodybuilder felt that Gemini would be the only one he could trust with such a thing for now; even though the Soulem was being a perverted pain at the moment. Though part of Justice relished at how dominant Gemini was over him. The overly-muscular man poked at his forehead rhinestone. “Well...I don’t completely hate it. I’m kinda liking this bindi. And the belly button one is...not bad,” he said, “By the way, how strong is this adhesive? It’s not budging at all.” Gemini stated, “It’s supposed to stay on you for a week, so I’m guessing it’s pretty strong stuff. So unless you want to rip off some epidermis, you probably shouldn’t try. Oh, and it’s waterproof and heat resistant, so a shower ain’t gonna make it come off.” Justice frowned as he played with his metallic spandex-encased bulge. The fabric felt smooth to his fingertips, and he was finding it fun to jostle it in his hand. He then spotted in his wall mirror a wet spot starting to develop on the silver spandex. “Fine. At least I can take off the cuffs and collar when you get those Dragon Pearls™ out of me,” remarked the bodybuilder. Gemini then mentioned, “Oh, yeah. One last thing. I stuck a whole bunch of different-colored rhinestones on your back.” “What?” said Justice. Gemini grinned, “Yeah, I arranged it to look like the Gemini constellation. So that’s my brand on you for right now to show that I own you, heh. But I’m not feeling it right now, so I’ll probably try something later that’s more noticeable and more me.” “Fine. Whatever. Is there anything else you added?” huffed Justice. Gemini pursed his lips, “Hmmmm, nope. That’s it. But let me just do one last thing.” Grabbing the white cord sticking out of Justice’s hole, Gemini yanked it. “I wish that you can’t move unless I’m wearing the Dragon Pearls’™ pull ring or holding onto the string,” he commanded. Another wet plop emanated from Justice’s hole, as another orb popped out. The bodybuilder gasped at the sudden stretch, and its sensation coursing through his musclebound body. It might have been pleasurable to feel and relieved some of the itch, but it also felt humiliating. Justice exclaimed, “Okay, that’s it!” The muscular man reached behind himself and grasped at the sex toy’s cord. Relaxing his bowels, Justice tugged at the Dragon Pearls™. The bodybuilder expected his hole to be stretched multiple times, but nothing happened. He adjusted his grip on one of the orbs and jerked at it again and again. The outcome was the same; not at all budging and locked within his rectum. “The hell? I’m relaxing all my ass muscles. Why isn’t it coming out?!” he said. Gemini smirked, “I did just tell you about a minute ago that you bought enchanted Dragon Pearls™. I even gave you that whole spiel on how it works. Only somebody commanding you can pull them out one at a time.” “I thought you were just roleplaying or something. It’s just too crazy for something like that to exist,” replied Justice. Gemini sighed, “Says the guy that bought an anime knockoff replica sex toy.” Justice said nothing while releasing his hold over the orange orb. The bodybuilder then attempted to touch his itchy anus; his fingers reaching out to the affected area. Justice’s hand stopped in its tracks just as it was about brush against his asshole. It was as if there was some magnetic field that repelled his hand away from his hole. “Dammit,” he muttered. As Justice gave up, the bulky android’s mood ring color shifted to black. Gemini spoke up, “Allow me to demonstrate wish three.” The Soulem relinquished his grasp over the Dragon Pearls™; slapping against the bodybuilder’s overly-muscled thighs. He grinned, as Justice’s body immediately seized like a statue. Gemini’s hands began to wander over Justice’s wide, wing-like lats, as he leaned forward to kiss the musclebound man’s mountainous traps. Even though Justice could not move, he could still hear and feel the wet smooch applied to his skin. The bodybuilder then wondered how the Soulem’s metallic lips were warm, wet, and somehow tickled his skin. As Gemini finished his kiss, he squatted down. The husky Soulem moved himself in front of Justice and looked straight at his friend’s metallic spandex bulge. Extending his glowing, blue tongue, Gemini licked at the bulge’s wet spot that now had a raindrop-sized manly residue leaking through the shiny, silver bulge. “Mmmmm. Sweet. Just like you,” flirted Gemini. Justice felt his cheeks burn. He was not sure if it was from either being flustered at the compliment or being humiliated at his paralysis. “...Thanks...can we go now?” he replied. Gemini sneered, “Don’t want to have sexy times with your best friend?” As the Soulem stood up, he dragged his glimmering tongue over the silver bulge. It then slid across the cobblestone abs and into the crevice of Justice’s mighty pectorals. All evidence of such an act was a trail of the Soulem’s saliva on the hulking bodybuilder’s skin and the newly polished navel jewelry; shimmering in the bedroom light. Gemini then changed his attention to the watermelon-sized pecshelf. He softly bit onto Justice’s left pec multiple times, as his hand molested the other. Chocolate pec meat spilled through the white, rubbery fingers of the hard grip. Justice could only moan at the titillating action and groaned even louder once Gemini switched to the bodybuilder’s nipples. Justice gritted his teeth. It was very hot but also weird to watch his friend make love to his chest. He wanted to ask when Gemini started to have sexual attractions to him, but there was something else he needed to say. Justice could not let himself get lost in the erotic euphoria and excitement from being dominated. The bodybuilder gathered his willpower and thought of the most unsexy thing he could think of. Pickle peanut butter sandwich. “I think that’s why it seems awkward to me. You’re my best friend, and...I dunno...I still feel bad about what happened, and I need to show you the real me. Please?,” he answered. Gemini instantly ceased his erotic activity upon hearing his best friend. He looked up at Justice’s eyes, while the color of his mood ring changed to white. The Soulem frowned, “Sorry. You’re right. I’m getting so easily sidetracked right now, but...I do want you to show me more than anything, dude. I want to understand.” Next Chapter
  17. muscleaddict

    Worshipping Tommy Foster

    This is taken from a bigger story I wrote but I think it works as a stand alone piece. Two muscle loving camera men have been invited to the hotel room of a competition conditioned bodybuilder. Part 1 It felt like the whole world had gone into slow motion as I tried to comprehend what was happening. A genuine bodybuilder in insane, competition condition was inviting me to oil him up. There had to be a catch. I looked down and noticed that the oil was in a spray-bottle. No actual bodily contact had to be necessary. I would press down on the head of the bottle and the oil would spray onto Tommy’s perfectly pumped, alien-like physique, but surely he would be the one to do the rubbing? Surely I wouldn’t actually get to place my hands on his phenomenally huge mounds and crazily developed slabs of thinly skinned muscle? Even though I was convinced that this was the case, the mere mention or thought of any kind of oiling up of a bodybuilder had not only caused a serious lack of space in my underwear, but it felt like I was suddenly sporting my biggest, hardest and most intense erection of the day. Without really considering an alternative option, I cautiously took the bottle of oil from Tommy’s hand, then shot a quick, nervous glance at Stuart Fox, who at this point seemed to be trying his best to act as if what was unfolding was a perfectly normal occurrence. Tommy also looked completely nonchalant as he posed his next question. “Have you ever oiled up a bodybuilder before Charlie”? Oh yes Tommy mate. Every bloody weekend an incredibly conditioned, freakishly muscular bodybuilder in brightly coloured, minuscule posing trunks pops round to my house, plonks himself in the middle of my bedroom and just stands there with his arms outstretched for a head to toe oil up. What the bleeding buggering hell do YOU think?! Still in a state of shock at what was happening, I shook my head and gave him a mumbled “no” and he casually proceeded to give me instructions. “You need to give the bottle a good shake before you spray it on. Just a few sprays on to the chosen body part, and then just really rub it in.” “Rub it in”! Did he just say “rub it fucking in”?! Chances of me fainting dead on Tommy Foster’s hotel room floor? VERY BLOODY LIKELY! “It’s probably best to start with my quads…” His quads! He wants me to place my hands on his ridiculously developed, gorgeously shredded quads! My actual hands. On his actual fucking quads! Fainting on Tommy Foster’s hotel room floor expected in 3, 2... “…and then work your way up”. Helloooo Tommy Foster’s hotel room floor. Do you mind if I just stay here for a while? “Don’t be afraid to be generous. It washes off easily”. Tommy then turned to my filming mentor. “You can get in here too Stuart. There’s enough of me to go round”. His mouth curled into an amused grin at his own outrageously cheeky comment and I couldn’t help but smile in amusement myself, all the time wondering how the hell I was still standing upright and conscious. Tommy Foster/Mr Gorgeous Abs had stopped talking, and the atmosphere suddenly seemed to have become slightly awkward. As he and Stuart Fox glanced at me, I suddenly realised that they were waiting for me to make my move. They were waiting for me to bend down, spray oil onto the insanely thick, deliciously carved quads of a genuine competition conditioned muscle freak, and rub it in using my hands (my actual hands). There was nothing else to do than to oblige. Crouching down, with one knee on the carpet, and my face mere inches away from his absurdly sized wheels, as instructed, I gave Tommy’s bottle of oil a few good shakes, and as I sprayed twice on to his left quad, three questions arose in my head; #1. How can one man’s legs be so monstrously thick and muscular? #2. Why am I so turned on by the scent of the shiny yellow fabric of his posing trunks, now mere inches away from my face, along with the thick bulge that’s still struggling to be contained by it? #3. How the bleeding buggering FUCK is this actually happening to me?! Conscious of the fact that Stuart was standing over me, I reached my hand up and gave him the bottle. Even though he looked more nervous than I’d seen him doing so before, the left corner of his mouth curled slightly into a coy, and excited smile as he took the bottle of oil from me and proceeded to kneel down next to me at Tommy Foster’s legs. As Stuart sprayed the oil onto Tommy’s right quad, I stared at the glistening mound of impossibly muscular, thinly skin wrapped leg meat. Time, once again, seemed to slow down as I prepared to do something I never imagined I would get the possibility to do and place my hands on the freakishly developed muscle of an actual living, breathing bodybuilder. What I certainly wasn’t prepared for was said bodybuilder to suddenly and unexpectedly tense and flex that freakishly developed muscle the second my hand made contact. If I had to describe the sensation of running my hands over the incredible mounds of rock hard, inhumanly thick, gorgeously soft skin wrapped muscle which made up Tommy Foster’s quads and feeling the deep lines and freakish separations under my fingertips, I would probably say it was the closest I’ve ever felt to experiencing an orgasm without actually having one. It was like I had transcended a normal level of arousal. My whole body felt like it was undergoing some hyper-sensual, otherworldly experience that the majority of people would never know existed, let alone have the chance to experience. The door to the world of extreme muscle I had opened when I’d stumbled across the image of the huge, shredded, flexing bodybuilder in my parents TV listings guide all those years ago was long behind me and I was now smack bang in the middle of it, down on one knee with the shiny posing trunk clad bulge of a muscle bull mere inches from my head, rubbing oil into his phenomenal sized, alien-like quads, feeling every ridge, line and separation under my fingers and wondering if I’d ever have an experience so powerful, intoxicating and mind blowingly erotic again. I wondered whether Stuart Fox was feeling anything even close to what I was as he gave Tommy Foster’s right quad the same treatment, and whether it was actually the first time he’d managed to feel the freaky muscle of a bodybuilder, either on one of his previous three shows or otherwise. That particular question hadn’t even occurred to me before that moment, but I’d suddenly become extremely curious to know the answer to it. The wave of disappointment I felt as the task of oiling up Tommy Foster’s incredible, barely human quads had completed, and Tommy spun around to present Stuart and I with the rear of his physique, quickly evaporated when he reached his hands around to the back of his posing trunks and outrageously tucked the bright yellow material into the crack of his ass and I was suddenly staring at a pair of gorgeously tanned and gloriously thick glutes. I looked over at my tanning buddie who looked completely awestruck and ever so slightly terrified, presumably at being in such close proximity of an ass so astonishingly big and suddenly barely covered, thanks to the owner, and as Stuart’s mouth curled slightly into a devilish grin, I wondered whether that fear was, in fact, for another reason. Was he, suddenly like me, wondering whether Tommy Foster had tucked his trunks into the crack of his mammoth sized bottom because he was expecting us to oil it up? Surely that was above and beyond the duties of any friend, training partner or nervous, muscle crazed work experience guy lucky enough to be asked to perform the task of oiling up a bodybuilder? Or was it? The glutes were a muscle group that would surely have to get oiled up just like any other. Was I about to get my hands on an actual pair of insanely developed and obscenely thick glutes? Predictability, rubbing oil into Tommy’s tight, taught hamstrings was considerably less arousing than doing so with his quads. So much so, that I completely underestimated just how incredible his freakish and enormous sized calves would feel. I’d never been massively into calf muscles, until that very moment I was knelt down on the floor at the feet of a bodybuilder running my hands over the granite hard, ridiculously huge mound of muscle exploding off the back of his lower leg. I’d almost forgotten that Tommy was an actual, living person, and not just a mass of freakish muscle put on the earth purely for the pleasure of Stuart and I until he spoke, and addressed us with a rather unexpected question. “So how long have you guys known each other”? Even without facing Tommy, the prospect of talking to him still all but terrified me, and it was left to my filming mentor to reply. “Erm…we only just met this morning”, he replied. “Oh, wow”, Tommy replied, with genuine surprise in the tone of his voice. “You kinda seem like you’ve known each other for a while”. I sheepishly looked at Stuart who was returning a slightly embarrassed but undoubtedly affectionate smirk similar to the one I was completely failing to repress. It was an expression which told me one thing; Stuart Fox was clearly feeling the same connection between us that I had been, pretty much since he started sharing his fantastic and inventive pump room game with me that morning. Whatever was happening between Stuart and I one thing for was certain; it felt incredible special. Furthermore, I couldn't deny how particularly brilliant it was to have a like minded muscle lover, clearly just as crazily turned on by muscle that I was, by my side and sharing my experience of oiling up a competition conditioned bodybuilder. In that moment I decided that I wouldn't go home that day without attempting two things; firstly, finding out whether Stuart Fox was currently embarking on his first experience of oiling up a bodybuilder, and secondly, getting his phone number. I'd just about rubbed every last bit of oil into Tommy’s calves when Stuart Fox handed me back the bottle of oil. With his hamstrings also well and truly oiled, I looked up to see the copious amount of Tommy's bum meat staring down at me in the most magnificent image and wondered what the hell my next move was going to be. I could only guess that Stuart Fox, helplessly and nervously staring back at me in that moment, was pondering the same question in his head that I was. The question which had been on my mind since Tommy Foster had unexpectedly wedged the back of those obscenely shiny posers into the crack of his ass and was now in desperate need of an answer; did Tommy Foster want us to place our grubby, muscle loving hands on his outrageously muscular, crazily developed, posing trunk devouring ass? "Hey guys", Tommy unexpectedly said. "Don’t forget the glutes". He wants us to place our grubby, muscle loving hands on his outrageously muscular, crazily developed, posing trunk devouring ass!! "I worked hard for those bad boys”! Two words: Cheeky bugger! Two more words: FUCK YES!! Wondering whether I'd experience a more surreal moment for the rest of my living days, I shook Tommy Foster’s bottle of oil and pumped two sprays onto his indecently thick and meaty right buttock. It wasn't until the second spray that Tommy suddenly tensed said buttock, and, right before my eyes, his amazing ass shrivelled up, a dozen of the freakiest lines and striations erupted and I was staring directly at the most beautiful pair of real life, genuine, gorgeously shredded glutes. It was a moment made even more brilliant when Stuart Fox unexpectedly and accidentally muttered a hushed "fuck!" in response, followed by a look of sheer panic and a sudden case of violent blushing to his cheeks. It wasn't just the actual words that made up Tommy Foster's response to Stuart Fox's verbal slip which suddenly made the whole scene feel even more highly erotic, but the incredibly arrogant, undeniably masculine and rather dirty sounding tone in which he delivered them; "Yeah baby"! There were so many factors as to what made oiling up Tommy Foster’s glutes even more erotically charged than when my hands were running over his thick, shredded quads. The actual sensation of feeling Tommy’s ass striations under my fingers, the fact that the act of having my hands on the glutes of, not just a bodybuilder, but any man felt a lot more intimate, the fact that my fingers kept making contact with what little of his shiny posing trunks were left covering up his unfathomably thick buttocks, and the fact that I was experiencing the whole thing knelt down next to a guy I was not only attracted to, but also felt an incredible chemistry with. A guy who was, no doubt, just as turned on by running his hands over a pair of gorgeously conditioned glutes as I was. Tommy’s obscenely sexy and dirty sounding “yeah baby” was also hanging in the air, and as my tingling and extremely sensitive hard on pulsated and throbbed in my jeans, I couldn’t help but, once again, wonder exactly what Tommy Foster’s motives were for inviting two guys who he’d confessed, in not so many words, to suspecting were gay and turned on by muscle, to rub oil into his freaky, shredded ass. With every single inch, line and striation of Tommy’s phenomenal and glistening glutes fully oiled, I took Stuart Fox’s lead in standing up in preparation to give Mr Foster’s back the same treatment. With my face not far away from the rear of his head, my torso from his broad, perfectly bronzed back, and the throbbing bulge in the crotch of my jeans from the indecently thick ass I’d just been running my fingers over, I suddenly felt a new kind of intimacy with the amazing middleweight muscle freak before me. After Stuart gave his lower back a few sprays, without a huge amount of pre-thought, I, perhaps rather adventurously, opted for the upper part of Tommy’s back, which seemed to slightly surprise him, as he briefly turned his head to the side of his body I was oiling up in response. Not to be outdone, Tommy Foster had his own surprise in store for me. As I rubbed the oil over the right side of his impossibly broad upper back, Tommy suddenly and quickly manoeuvred into a back lat spread pose, and before I knew what was happening, he was letting out an outrageously cocky “oooooh”, his back was opening up, and his impressively thick right lat was exploding and bulging underneath my fingers. With the sensation of feeling Tommy’s hard, flexed muscle came the realisation that it would take very, very little to make my throbbing dick explode with an absolute tsunami of cum. One little tug on my hard on through my jeans, or even just one little accidental brush of my crotch against Tommy’s phenomenally conditioned, barely covered glutes and it would undoubtedly all be over. With his magnificent back fully oiled, Tommy spun around to face Stuart and I, and the moment he did, my face suddenly flushed and I felt a new, crippling and intense sense of shyness, which would undoubtedly had been even more intense had I not long before been running my fingers over his gloriously striated ass. Whether the biggest contributor to this was the fact that he could suddenly see my face, and the un-nerving possibility of him being able to read my expressions, the fact that his slabs of perfectly smooth pec meat and thick, blocky, beautiful nickname earning abs were now inches away from my body, or whether it was the prospect of getting my hands on his insanely muscular, and crazily conditioned torso I wasn't entirely sure, but my pulse was suddenly racing and I seemed physically incapable of looking Tommy Foster in the eye. I'd never been more attracted to anyone than I was to Tommy in that moment. Here was a man who had transcended a normal level of hotness to become the kind of bona fide muscle freak of nature guys like me can only dream of seeing in the flesh. His potent, masculine, and extremely arousing scent was present once again and stronger than ever, and his gorgeous, rock hard, thinly skinned torso seemed to be radiating an incredible heat. As Stuart Fox sprayed oil onto the right, thick, slab-like pec hanging off his chest, I suddenly wondered what I wanted most in that moment; for a hole to appear beneath me on the floor of Tommy Foster's hotel room floor and swallow me clean into the ground, or for Tommy to suddenly wrap his magnificently muscular arm around my waist, push me into his hard, Adonis-like body and bring his lips to mine for an amazing, soft, passionate kiss.
  18. muscleaddict

    Dan and Jake (Part 1)

    Part 1 of a new story about two much loved juniour bodybuilders. Dan is 6 ft, huge and ridiculously handsome. Jake is 5' 5" and known for his super shredded conditioning (we're talking razor sharp cuts, dick thin skin, freaky ab veins an a full on Christmas tree). They're best friends and vlogging partners (they've been dubbed "the beefiest blogging duo on YouTube"). But Jake has a secret. He's completely and hopelessly in love with Dan. Dan and Jake (Part 1) The church is absolutely packed, and as the organ man starts to play, I begin to walk down the aisle. I turn to the man to the right, clutching my arm. Good old pops. He looks genuinely choked up. Everyone is looking at me all doughy eyed. Granny Adams is dabbing her eyes with a tissue. Auntie Mavis is nudging uncle Boris and signalling to my outfit. Both of them now staring at it in admiration. I look down to admire it myself. A black dickie bow around my neck, a pair of smart black boots and, completing the outfit, a pair of bright red posing trunks. As shiny as you can imagine. The red trunk coloured bulge is looking up at me. So are my abs. In all their thick, wonky shaped, and phenomenally peeled glory. Six crazily developed bumps bursting through my tummy to remind me that I'm a freakishly shredded, excessively developed muscle boy who loves nothing more than to strut around a bodybuilding stage, flexing and squeezing his superhuman sized mass for all the world to see. My slabby, beautifully carved out muscle tits, and the rest of my huge, bronzed, vein plastered body are obvious reminders too. What is the organ man playing? I know the song but I can't quite get the name. It’s only when I get to the front of the church that it suddenly hits me. It’s a ballad organ rendition of The Prodigy's "Smack My Bitch Up". A large, stocky man is standing in front of me smiling. He’s wearing one of the t-shirts from my website; black with the words "BROTHERS IN BEEF" printed on it, and around his neck is a dog collar. I recognise him instantly. It’s the commentator and host from a dozen of my previous bodybuilding shows. I'm pretty sure his name is Bob. "Friends, relatives, muscleheads", Bob begins in his thick Yorkshire accent. "We're here today to witness the union between two of Britain's biggest and most popular young bodybuilders". I take a sneaky glance at the man standing next to me. It would only be one person. Could only be one person. "Yo dude", he quietly says, with his fist held out for me to discreetly bump. I oblige, obviously, and just catch a quick glance of the bow tie around his neck, exactly like mine, and the big blocks of abdominal muscle popping through his stomach. Also exactly like mine. Bob carries on the sermon for a number of minutes, and then it’s time for the vows. "Do you Jake "The Shredinator" Adams, take Dan "The Man" Murray to be your lawfully wedded muscle freak"? "FUCK YES!", I exclaim, and everyone roars with laughter. "Oooops sorry", I sheepishly add. "I mean, I do". And with those two words, my heart swells. I do I do I do. "I now pronounce you, pumped up, shredded to buggery muscle freak and, well....pumped up, shredded to buggery muscle freak". I can't wipe the grin off my face. He's mine. Dan The Man is finally mine. "You may now squeeze a head to head crab most muscular". "HELL YEAH!", Dan exclaims. I turn to face my new hubbie, matching bow tie, black boots, shiny red posers and all. A huge, cheeky grin plastered across his face, as utterly gorgeous as ever. The face that plays a big contribution to him being one half of the two most popular and well loved bodybuilders in Britain. "Let's do this mate!", Dan said. I grin wildly and nod as I bend forward and lift both arms so they're level with my shoulder blades. Bob wants a head to head crab most muscular and that's what he's gonna get. "SQUEEEEZE IT LADS!", shouts Bob. And squeeze it we do. With my forehead pressed up against Dan's, we both bring our arms down and blast out matching crab most musculars, while aggressively shouting in unison. "YEEEEAARRGGHHHH"!! Dan "The Man" Murray. My lifelong muscle buddie. Best friend. Vlogging partner. Brother in beef. Fellow shredded muscle freak. Love of my life. And now my husband. "Jake"! Our heads are still locked. Our teeth now gritted. "JAKE"! Faces scrunched to buggery. Intensely and affectionately looking into each other's eyes. "Dude! Wake up"! Every muscle squeezed and bursting through our paper thin skin. Shiny red posers barely able to contain our bulges. "JAKE. DUDE. WAKE. UP"! Ugh. What’s going on?! Fuck. I feel dazed. Disorientated. "What the fuck were you dreaming about"? The church has gone, and I'm in a strange bed instead. A hotel bed. The curtains are open. Ugh. Why is it so fucking bright? But there's one saving grace. I feel typically giddy and a sense of warmth washes over me as I see Dan's face, just as handsome first thing in the morning as it always is. He has a bad case of bed head. Ruffled and un-styled. He's never looked more adorable. He's lying next to me in the double bed of the hotel room, still wearing the white vest he went to bed in last night. His arms have never looked more pumped and his delts look fucking ridiculously. His whole upper body looks like it's ready to burst. "Dude you were saying my name in your sleep!", Dan says. "Oh", I reply, my cheeks suddenly burning up and my pulse quickening. "Ummm...I think I was dreaming about the show", I say. "Did I kick your arse for the third year running?", he cheekily says with a grin. "Actually I kicked your arse", I playfully retort, knowing full well that the chance of that particular scenario occurring is extremely slim. "You must have been dreaming dude", he replies. Not yet fully woken up, I smile and dreamily gaze at my best friend and fellow bodybuilding musclehead from my pillow. I want nothing more than to stay in this hotel bed with him. For us to spend all day under the sheets, exploring and worshipping each other's indecently muscular bodies. Feeling each other's huge, pumped biceps, squeezing each other's thick, balloon-esque pecs, exploring the deep lines separating each of our shredded blocks of ab muscle and rubbing our huge freaky quads together. Making each other cum over and over until we finally collapse and I fall asleep with my arm wrapped around his crazy midsection and my head buried deep into the thick cushion which makes up one of his ridiculously developed pecs. Unfortunately, we have the juniour class of Britain's biggest bodybuilding show to compete in, which Dan will no doubt champion in for the third year running, leaving me to, once again, settle for second place. Not that Dan’s physique is miles ahead of mine in terms of quality. In fact, I'm guaranteed to always be better conditioned than him. Better than any lad in my class in fact. After all, I didn't get the nickname "The Shredinator" for nothing. Razor sharp cuts, dick thin skin, freaky veins (even on my abs!) and a full on bonkers Christmas tree will all be making their usual stage appearance today. And I'm not exactly lacking in size either. My pecs look like two pumpkins bulging off my chest, my quads get thicker with every passing show and my shoulders were replaced with two, huge, perfectly round boulders many moons ago. Oh and speaking of moons, my bum is huge. Like, seriously fucking enormous. There's not a pair of posing trunks in the world big enough to cover up the whole of my ridiculously huge rump. But I have one major drawback. I'm 5' 5” tall. So while my quads may be more shredded than Dan’s, the lines in my abs deeper, and my bum most certainly bigger, it's hard to compete with a brilliantly conditioned, mass packed bodybuilder who has an extra seven inches in height and thirty five pounds in weight than you do. "Dude, I can't wait to see your posing trunks", Dan excitedly says. "I'm pretty sure I'm gonna kick your arse in that contest too". "Hmmmm. I wouldn't be too cocky just yet", I playfully tease, picturing the utterly brilliant posers hidden in my holdall. "Shall we shower and then do the vid?", Dan asks. He looks like an excitable puppy, with the big brown eyes to match. I love how excited Dan gets about filming episodes of our "Dan and Jake: Brothers In Beef" vlog, although on this occasion I have to admit, I’m pretty excited myself. Dan came up with an idea to hold a "Posing Trunk Challenge" a few months ago. The goal was for each of us to find the best pair of posers for the competition. We'd both reveal our trunks in a vlog episode the morning of the show, and it was up to our viewers to decide which of the two of us had won the challenge. Dan was always slightly more adventurous with his posing trunks than I was, and I was sure whatever crazy pair he'd found would win him the challenge, but I was still really pleased with the pair I'd chosen. I was pretty sure Dan would love them too. I couldn't wait to see the look of approval on his impossibly handsome face when he saw them clinging to my excessively sized arse for the first time. Dan throws back the duvet and jumps out of bed and my heart sinks in response. Stood up, Dan looks absolutely monstrous. He's ten pounds heavier than last years competition - and boy does it show. His brutal upper body is exploding with mass, not least of all with those obscenely pumped arms of his. The judges may as well just save everyone the hassle and hand him the first place juniour class trophy now. Still looking up at him from my pillow, Dan peels, with comical difficulty, his white vest up his torso and over his head. His now revealed incredible abs are blistering through his stomach. Where my abs are wonky shaped and haphazardly spread across my midsection, Dan's stomach is perfectly symmetrical. Six beautifully shaped abs cleanly separated by almost straight lines. A perfect midsection to match his perfectly pumped pecs, and every single perfect feature on his boyish, yet masculine, and almost sickeningly handsome face. If I wasn't completely and madly in love with him, I'd probably be extremely envious of Dan "The Man" Murray. He'll always have more Twitter followers, his Instagram posts will always get more likes, he'll always have more muscle loving gay guys lusting over him, he'll always be the "hot one" and I'll always be the "cute one", he'll always be the monster and I'll always be the pocket rocket and he'll always walk away with a bigger and better trophy than I will. Still, at least I'll always have the bigger arse. "Just wait until you see my trunks dude", Dan enthusiastically says, grinning wildly, as he pulls out a towel from his bag. "Are you more excited about the show or the posing trunk challenge?", I teasingly ask. He laughs and cheekily responds. "What can I say dude? I just really like kicking your arse". Fifteen minutes later and a freshly showered Dan has re-emerged, just as outrageously huge and devastatingly handsome as always. His pecs are doing nothing to tame the swelling bulge in my undies under the bed sheets. "Dude, we’d better hurry up. We need enough time to go to the tanning tents backstage. Plus I want to get a good half an hour of pumping up before we hit the stage". I dutifully obey my best friend and jump into the shower. About half an hour later, I'm back in the en suite bathroom putting on my new pair of posing trunks, then hiding them under a pair of shorts in preparation for the posing trunk challenge, in our newest episode of our "Dan and Jake: Brothers In Beef" vlog. The vlog was all Dan's doing. About a year ago, when we were still in fairly decent condition from competing, Dan had a completely bonkers idea. He thought it would be fun if we painted each other's entire bodies green, put on purple shorts like The Hulk wears, go into our local town centre, start flexing and posing in the middle of the street and catch everyone's reactions on camera. I thought he was joking until he turned up on my doorstep with two big tubs of bright green body paint. I was a little embarrassed at first, and slightly scared that we might get arrested, but once people started crowding round us, coming up to us to shake our hands, chat to us and have their pictures taken, I actually started to really enjoy it. Of course Dan loved it from the second we stepped out of the car, but then Dan just adores any kind of attention his muscles bring him. The video was as equally popular when posted online. "You guys should have your own YouTube channel and start a vlog", suggested one follower in the comments section. And so we did. And now, a year and thousands of followers later we've been dubbed the Internet's beefiest vloggers. Dan and Jake; the only bodybuilding vlogging duo in the world. Of course we've attracted criticism too. Most of it from straight, fellow bodybuilders not impressed or amused by our laddish and quite often bonkers antics. Though most of it seems to be directed at Dan. Whether they see him as the ringleader, or whether there's a certain amount of hidden jealousy at play, I'm not really sure. "What's the British version of a douchebag? Surely it would be Dan Murray." "Dan The Man? More like Dan The Twat". "Jake needs to ditch that idiot Dan and get serious about bodybuilding. He's young and his physique is insane. He could be a future pro 212 class bodybuilder, but his bromance with Dan and this Brothers In Beef shit is doing nothing for his reputation". Those are just a few negative comments which comes to mind. The last one particularly stuck in my head. And, of course, the very notion that I would "ditch" Dan is completely ridiculous. Dan is my best friend and always will be. I wouldn't be anything but loyal towards him. "Right mate, we're all set", Dan says as he positions his digital camera on the hotel room desk. Filming of our latest vlog episode is about to begin.
  19. Some days you just want to sleep. Wizard World has a way of sapping you of your energy, especially after hours of signings and Q&A sessions. Yeah, you're being worshipped and catered to, but sometimes you just want to sleep. Ian Somerhalder had planned to do just that, arriving at his hotel room after hours on the convention floor. He was alone for a rare con, with people like Paul off shooting their own projects. That meant for a very lonely hotel room, and as much as he needed the quiet time, he missed having some companionship. The actor unlocked his hotel room door and coasted in, clad in a leather jacket over a black v-neck and distressed gray denim. He took a breath as he closed the door, the light in his room on and the bed looking awfully welcoming. With a loud flop, Ian collapsed onto the bed beneath him and took a few deep breaths, when he felt a hard, solid object against his ribs. Annoyed, he rolled onto his side to find a black box sitting on the bed, blending in with the black bedspread. Expecting chocolates or a typical hotel freebie, he rolled onto his back and opened the lid to find a white card, simply reading “From a fan.” Immediately, Ian is taken aback. He's used to getting gifts, but rarely does he ever open them. He certainly didn't expect to find one in his bed. Rolling his eyes, he tossed the card aside and saw a bright blue pillow of fabric nestled in the box. Tugging the blue object out, the fabric unfurls as a sheepish grin crosses Ian's face. Bright teal underwear, silky and cool to the touch. But unlike most of the underwear he receives, these look like they're actually made for men. Taking a closer look, he realized the straps of the underwear taper to a string in the back and thin strips on the sides, with a substantial pouch… a thong. “Well shit.” Ian smirked as he twiddled with the slick fabric. He paused for a second before sitting up on the bed and shucking his jacket. He pauses once more, considering what he's about to do… he's never worn a thong before, though the desire for some spicier undergarments had certainly come up in the past. His shoes come off next, and he unbuckles his jeans and pulls them down. His black briefs bulge generously, half hard with oddly sexual excitement over the new undergarment. His thighs are lean and rounded, body shaved for another season of TVD. Ian kicks off his denim and stands up, grabs his briefs by the lip and tugs them down. Off goes his briefs, his erection growing and swaying as he steps between the straps of the thong. Ian shudders as the blue fabric is pulled up his thighs, the back strap digging between his tight asscheeks, his cock brushing against the fabric, ballsack barely covered by the skimpy pouch. He's fully hard now, his cut member close to eight inches in length, the head peeking against the top lip of the thong. He reaches down and strokes the head, chuckling, and pulls his shirt off to leave him in nothing but his new underwear. Turning to the hotel room's full-length mirror, Ian turns slightly to look at his pert, toned ass in the mirror. He struts a bit, watching his reflection, and chuckles at the sight of him clad in nothing but the teal pouch and strap. A jolt of sudden pain rockets through Ian's stomach and chest as he doubles over, moaning as his eyes widen. The sharp pain spreads from his abdomen up his chest and down his legs, his muscles seizing up as looks back into the mirror, his skin becoming pale as he lets out a loud groan. He jolts back, his chest jutting out, veins pulsing down his neck and spreading across his arms, his breathing becoming harried as he struggles to move. With another jolt, his left arm begins to pulse, the veins pumping furiously as his toned bicep begins to throb and flex. The smooth, rounded surface of his right bicep swells cartoonishly, inflating with new mass. His triceps swells to match, his forearms ballooning outward as his knuckles crack and flex. Ian watches in awe and horror as his right arm explodes with size, his eyes wide, sweat beginning to bead down his forehead.. With a similar jolt, his left arm cracks and stiffens as it too begins to hulk out. His shoulders crack as his neck begins to thicken, his lean back starting to broaden as his traps flare outward and bulge with new size. His deltoids expand to large rounded shapes that taper down toward his chest. His lats inflate as massive veins pulse down the length of his arms and across his chest, his balance failing as he tries to get his footing. Ian begins to gasp as his chest expands outward, his back still throbbing with growth as his lean pecs are stretched across the growing width of his chest, his breath inflating the growing lungs deep within his straining body. His pecs begin to surge forth, swelling into massive rounded slabs, nipples erect and forced to point downward beneath the thick size of his melon-like pectorals. Staring back at the mirror. Ian was a freakish picture of contrast. His upper body was herculean, tapering down to his lean, normal legs and thighs. His cock had certainly reacted, dark spots forming in his underwear as precum begins to ooze from his stimulated member. Ian placed his hands on his expanded pecs, feeling their firmness and warmth, in awe. Ian's abdominal muscles, still taut from the strenuous growth of his upper body, begin to crunch and contort. The smooth six-pack tightens as Ian's spine cracks, his growing back muscles stretching as his body begins to inch upward with new height. His abs thicken, growing blocky and stiff down his stomach as the cartoonish taper to his lower body broadens into a wider, straight, squared shape. Rigid obliques frame his strong stomach as his modest Adonis belt deepens into a cut V shape over his thighs. His cock begins to throb violently, pushing upward against the lip of his thong as his glutes envelope the string of his thong with beefy size. Inches of new cock length push out of his pouch, expanding up his abs and smearing them with precum, curving to the right as it gains new girth to match. Ian's balls churn and swell as precum pumps from his expanding musclecock, causing the actor to moan even louder. Still struggling to maintain his balance, Ian shuffles around as his lean thighs begin to balloon outward, throbbing and shifting into thick trunks of strength and mass in an exaggerated diamond shape. Divots and grooves run the length of the monstrous leg muscles as they meet in the middle, pushing Ian's pouched balls forward as his beefy quads push together. Groaning, Ian reaches down and grabs his cock, a spurt of precum rocketing from the red head of his stimulated member. He jerks furiously as his knees buckle, calves rippling with expanding size as they become thick and rounded in shape. Fisting his cock furiously, Ian leans against the mirror in his new godly bodybuilder size and groans, his eyes closing once more as he's lost in the sudden lust that accompanied his transformation. Unbeknownst to Ian, an uninvited guest had been waiting in the bathroom. A godly frame sat in the shadows, stroking his cock through a crimson thong. The strong brow and jaw of Calum von Moger comes into view behind Ian as the actor pumps his cock, to which Calum licks his lips. “Need some help big guy?” Calum strokes his own leaking member as Ian looks up at the younger bodybuilder. Calum was more proportional in size compared to Ian's inhuman mass, something Calum had planned all along. “Who… who the fuck are you?” Ian freezes as he watches the younger man, refusing to unlatch from his rigid cock. “A fan. You liked your gift right?” Calum strolls toward Ian, smiling as he tugs his thong down and lets his cock free. He places a hand on Ian's warm broad back. “I thought you could use the extra poundage. You're looking hot as fuck, by the way.” Calum presses his hard cock against Ian's massive thigh, his hot breath now against Ian's right ear. Calum's body is glistening with sweat and tanned in a way Ian's pale body is not, highlighting Calum's more aesthetic musculature. “It… feels so good, fuck...” Ian groans as he begins to stroke again, his free hand kneading his broad pecs. “Give me a flex, stud.” Calum pulls his right arm into a pose, his thick biceps tightening into broad mounds. Ian follows the pro's advice and pulls his free arm into a flex, watching in awe as his swollen biceps ball into massive rounded peaks. Calum chuckles and grabs a handful of Ian's thick chest, thumbing the actor's large nipples. “All the mass with none of the work, but a little bit of gyno for authenticity. You sensitive?” Calum tweaks Ian's nipples as Ian moans, unlatching from his cock as it pulses out another load of “Fuck… FUCK...” Ian bellows as Calum touches his body, feeling the pro's hands begin to roam around his enhanced frame. Ian returns the favor, placing his hands on Calum's broad shoulders and stroking downward towards his rounded pecs. The two men reposition themselves to face eachother as Calum's eleven-inch muscle dick pushes against Ian's pouch. “Free the python stud. You should be a match.” Ian reaches cautiously into his thong and tugs his hard cock out, and the two muscular members collide with a wet slap causing shudders of pleasure from both men. “God you're gorgeous. I figured you'd make a sexy fucking muscle stud.” Calum places a warm hand on Ian's shoulder as Ian feels a warm grip around his cock, the slick surface of Calum's member now sliding against it. Calum grips on the two rods and fists them slowly, his hand moving to Ian's still very handsome jaw and face. “Wait… I saw you at the con.” Ian squints slightly, trying to place Calum. “You had the Spartan costume on.” “You said I had better tits than most of the ladies at the con.” “And now I get them up close and personal.” Ian moves his hands down to Calum's pecs, feeling their thickness as Calum bounces them for Ian. “Fun party trick. Hot.” “You should get your cock between them. My treat.” Ian nods as Calum falls backward onto the bed with a loud thud, the bed creaking beneath his mass. He tugs his thong down and tosses it at Ian, who inhales the pro bodybuilder's musk. “Jesus fuck.” Ian grunts as he pulls his own thong down and rears up onto the bed, straddling Calum's legs as he slides across the man's sweaty upper body. Ian presses his cock between Calum's pecs as Calum flexes and bounces them around his length, causing Ian to moan and thrust against his chest. Ian's glutes flex as they shift across Calum's abdominal muscles, Calum's hard cock occasionally meeting Ian's backside and stringing precum between the two. “Fuck… i'm gonna cum just from this, holy shit...” Ian moans as his thrusts become stronger, sliding his wet cock back and forth between Calum's big pecs, only to shudder and grunt as a massive rope of hot cum erupts from his engorged cock and splatters across Calum's cheeks and forehead, globs of cum splattering in Calum's hair and dripping down the aussie's chin and neck. The immense volume of Ian's orgasm surprises even Calum as he shuts his eyes, feeling the volleys of Ian's cum streaming across his lips and against his nose. Ian slides backwards, Calum's dripping cock pulled between Ian's glutes as the bigger man takes a few heavy breaths, recovering from his orgasm. Calum opens his mouth and licks his lips, tasting Ian's seed as he thrusts his cock between Ian's asscheeks. Ian grinds against the younger man's cock, smearing trails of white seed against Calum's abs as the two begin to make out. Calum's hands wrap around Ian's neck as they kiss, moaning as Calum thrusts against Ian's ass. “You wanna seal the deal?” Ian breaks their kiss as he tightens his ass around Calum's erection. “More than you know.” Calum nods in approval as Ian relaxes his ass, pulling forward as Calum begins to push his hard cock between Ian's glutes, probing at the actor's hole. “This isn't my first, don't go easy on me.” Ian goes back to kissing Calum as the pro begins to penetrate the actor, Ian's tight hole parting as Calum forces his rigid dick inside of Ian. Ian groans and thrusts forward from the sensation, biting his lip as Calum's wet cock begins to piston into him. Ian pushes back, working into a rhythm of opposing thrusts as they make out furiously. “Let me ride your cock, fuck...” Ian cranes upward and slides back, taking Calum's full length inside of him as Calum watches the handsome actor ride his thick muscle cock. “Flex for me stud, let me see that new muscle!” Calum groans as he rocks back and forth beneath Ian, watching the older man ride him and feeling his release coming. Ian pulls his arms into classic bodybuilding poses, groaning as his hard cock bobs in sync with his cock riding, his thick frame casting a shadow over Calum as the younger man's cock hits his prostate and cum bubbles from his overstimulated cock. “I'm… ohhh fuck, OH FUCK...” Calum moans and thrusts his chest up as he cums inside Ian, hot spurts of thick cum rocketing deep into Ian's hole as Ian tightens his thick glutes around Calum's rod, bouncing his pecs and flexing his bis as he rides out Calum's orgasm. The deep groans of the two men echo through the hotel room as Calum's cumshots slow, and Ian leans forward and goes back to kissing Calum as the Australian’s cock throbs within him. The two men embrace, Ian's wet cock sandwiched between their abs as they doze off to sleep.
  20. So this is part of a bigger story I've written called "Charlie's Secret" (hence the rather clumsy intro) set in and around a big bodybuilding show. I'm currently doing some work to it, and thought the following could work as a short stand-alone piece. It features one of several bodybuilders from the story and explores the idea of self muscle worship which I've always found extremely hot! The thought of a guy who gets turned on by the image of his own freakishly muscular body. Chris "Freaky Peaks" Jackson Picking up his first place trophy in the Heavyweight division of one of the biggest bodybuilding competitions in the country, Chris "Freaky Peaks" Jackson said his goodbye's to his training partner and mentor and rushed back to his hotel room. By some miracle, he’d managed to get through an entire day of being surrounded by ripped, monstrous, attitude filled muscle bulls flexing and posing in stupidly hot posers without creaming in his own indecently shiny trunks. But now he needed to worship some serious muscle and finally blow his pent-up load. The fact that said muscle just happened to be attached to his own body was a minor issue for this sexually charged, muscle crazed mountain of a muscle beast. Exhausted from hours of flexing on stage, and drenched in tan, oil and sweat, most bodybuilders would have jumped in the shower and spent the rest of the evening collapsed on their hotel beds, but not Freaky Peaks. He was only in shredded competition condition for a short period of time and he intended to fully make the most of it. Locking his hotel room door and positioning himself in front of the full length mirror on the wall, Chris Jackson braced himself for the ultimate self-muscle worship session. Cranking out pose after pose in his tiny green trunks, Chris slowly became consumed by the freakish, otherworldly sights staring back at him from the mirror. Amazed at the striations peeking through his abnormally sized butt cheeks, entranced by the thinness of the sweat drenched skin covering his inhumanly shredded midsection, in awe of the sheer size of his incredible, tensed quads which were snaked in the nastiest veins, and aroused beyond comprehension at the thickness of the two balloon-like muscles sitting on his chest, Chris "Freaky Peaks" Jackson flexed and posed until he was completely lost in the image of his own monstrous mass of muscle. No body part of Chris’, however, provoked stronger feelings and emotions than his infamous, superhuman sized guns. His biceps had always been his strongest body part, developing so much easier and quicker than his others. He’d always loved that pumped feeling in his upper arms which came after a set of barbell curls, even in his humble days as a mere regular gym goer in his first gym, and now he was the proud owner of some of the biggest and freakiest guns on the planet. He’d seen his peaks a million times before, but never failed to be impressed by the sheer size and outrageous freakiness of the image of the enormous granite hard muscle erupting through his skin. On this particular day, in peak contest condition, his biceps looked more monstrous and freaky than they ever had. Staring at the reflection of his own incredible sized, skin stretched, barely human guns, his imagination suddenly ran away from him, as he envisioned a mile long queue of men stretched out in front of him, all waiting to wrap their hands around those famous peaks. Men of all shapes and sizes, the majority of them gay and obsessed with huge ripped muscle just like he was, but some of them straight men who, for whatever reason, just wanted to know what it felt like to touch the monstrously sized, vein decorated biceps of a genuine flat out muscle freak. He was certain the two young camera men who’d been filming him earlier that day in the pump room would be somewhere in that line. Neither had been particularly effeminate, but his gaydar had kicked in big time when the two of them had approached him, one more nervously than the other. They’d seemed particularly close, and had exchanged more than one knowing glance, and sheepish smirk. No doubt they were probably both now at home, masturbating themselves stupid over the image of the flexed, vein decorated guns of Chris “Freaky Peaks” Jackson. If he could hunt them both down and invite them into his hotel room to worship his freaky peaks until they jizzed in their boxer shorts, he was certain he'd make two muscle obsessed lads extremely happy. Freaky Peaks didn’t just stop at flexing and marvelling at the image of his own incredible muscle mass in the mirror, he also loved the feel of the freaky muscle beneath his fingertips, and his gigantic sized biceps were his favourite thing to touch. The feeling of running his hand over his rock hard ball of humungous sized bicep muscle, squeezing and feeling it bulging underneath his fingers was indescribable. He often wondered if any other bodybuilders indulged in these kinds of acts, and how many of them became so immensely aroused at, not only the image of their own excessively developed, beyond human muscle mass in the mirror, but the sensation of feeling said muscle bulge and flex under their fingers as he did. Either way, Freaky Peaks’ private muscle flexing sessions always concluded in one way, and today was no exception. In between cranking out his poses, flexing his supremely sized mass, and running his hands over his own, flexed muscle, a sweat drenched, and incredibly aroused Chris reached for his throbbing, rock hard cock, which had been let free from the shiny green material of his posing trunks, and started pounding away, groaning and grunting with pleasure as he pumped on his hard on with his right hand, the other firmly planted on one of his deliriously pumped pecs, his fingers digging into the insatiably thick mound of muscle which made up one half of his huge chest. His left hand then wandered further, running over the deeply chiselled abs blocks popping through the drum tight skin stretched over his stomach before veering south and running over his indecently thick mass of muscle making up his quads, tensing them and feeling the deep lines erupt underneath his fingertips, and then, with his other hand pumping away at his posing trunk covered hard on, Chris curled his left hand into a tight fist and as he watched his alien like, vein splattered, gigantic sized bicep muscle explode through his barely there skin, he reached the point of no return and he screamed with intense orgasmic pleasure as his dick exploded, and thick ropes of hot, white cum splattered on to the mirror before him.
  21. momoware

    Serving Muscle Daddy chapter 1

    I wrote this story today and I've wanted to for ages, based on a guy in his mid-50s I know who recently got into competitive bodybuilding. He's so gruff and manly and when we see each other in the street or in town he slaps me on the back and I wish I was one of his sons. This is what I imagine he and his grown sons get up to behind closed doors. Enjoy! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dave looked really good. He had turned fifty a nine months prior and had never felt better. Life seemed to be back on track for the guy, who had not had the easiest of times. His high school sweetheart Angela, with whom he had sired two sons, had been gone from his life for twenty six lonely years. His love for her had been so profound that he had never even glanced in the direction of another woman since her passing. Until her death he had been a keen gym goer and amateur bodybuilder, and she loved when he would bounce his meaty pecs or flex his powerful arms for her. It made her feel safe, and him feel masterful and strong, like a trusty protector of his beloved treasure. After she was gone he stopped paying attention to this aspect of his life, turning his attention to being a dutiful father for the lads and working hard to provide for them. It was as he approached the milestone birthday that he caught a glimpse of himself in the shower, his shoulders still broad and his waist still trim, that the idea crossed his mind to head to the home gym in the basement and see if any of his formidable strength remained. He was to be pleasantly surprised as he loaded up a squat rack with heavy weights, dropped to ground with them over his shoulders and bounced up effortlessly. The adrenaline was instant and a rush of excitement coursed through his body. After this exercise his quads were bursting with veins and pulsating wildly. “This is definitely something I could get back into.” He pondered. Fast forward to Christmas Eve, as Dave sat by the fire in the living room with the newspaper and a glass of wine, his bulging muscular frame filling the armchair his sons entered the room. “Ah there you are boys! I was wondering where you’d both got to. Come and join me on the couch.” The beast of a man stood up, his mass eclipsing the two smaller men who had sprung from his seed. He sat in the middle of the sofa and was joined on either side by Andreas and Robert. He put his arms around their necks and brought them in to nuzzle his huge, hard chest and they obediently and adoringly rested, each head gently placed on one solid pec. Dave began to rub his sons’ backs gently, and then not so gently. After not long his arm extended further and further south and was massaging their buttocks. Massaging them hard. The boys each began to squeeze one of their dad’s thick nipples, which immediately began to get thicker and harder. A small moan came out of each of their soft mouths as a large middle finger entered their rectum. “Shhhhh boys, don’t respond, just let it happen, ease into it.” Upon their father’s instruction their anuses appeared to relax and their expressions of anguish turned to beaming smiles and Dave began to thrust his finger in and out of the tight holes. “Boys I never imagined we’d have such a happy Christmas after your mother died. This is such a delight, I love you both so much.” He then began to passionately kiss Andreas, thrusting his tongue down his son’s throat. “Daddy we love you too. Every day that Andy and I stay home to look after all of your needs is a dream come true, we love our daddy!” purred Robert into dad’s ear. This pleased Dave and he flipped his body over, leaving Andreas to catch his breath, and began thrusting his giant body against Robert’s slight pudgy build. Robert moaned as Dave bit down on his lower lip before digging his warm wet tongue into his mouth. “Robbie you’re so tasty, just what I needed after a big dinner!” Dave ripped off his sweater showing a distended, but nonetheless ripped, belly from the aforementioned meal. The trousers came next and his gigantic throbbing cock made quick work of tearing through his tight boxers. “Andy, worship my body like a good boy while I smash your brother’s arse open!” Andreas didn’t need to be told twice and he got down on the floor, licking his father’s toes and then moving up the rippling legs, first kissing and groping the calf muscles that jutted out like coarse diamonds and then moving his head up between the beefy red hot thighs. He kissed the insides of his dad’s quads as Dave tightened his grip on his son’s head as his pleasure intensified. “Come on Robbie, time to see if I loosened you up enough.” In less than a second he undressed his son and turned him over, burying his handsome face in the asshole, excavating the deep crevice with his tongue. “Mmmmmm Robbie you taste so good! You’re truly the fruit of my loins, I can’t wait to get you properly lubed up to take daddy’s pillar of flesh!” Robert was in a trance, so thrilled to be dominated by his possessive, caring daddy and immediately widened his rectum, knowing that an enormous and powerful force was about to enter, and would not be soft or gentle. Having been widened by his father’s loving tongue and finger there was no difficulty slipping in his member which glided beautifully in and out of his son’s snatch. Dave beat his chest as he pounded his son’s ass and grunted primordially like a wild animal as he felt the throes of orgasm approaching. He tightened his grip on Robert’s waist as he pumped his cock into the little man’s ass three more times, unleashing a flood of semen which flew up Robert’s ass and began leaking a steady warm ooze down his thighs and onto the floor. It was so warm that it began to steam as it made contact with the winter air outside. Whilst Robbie lay on his back on the couch, continuously dripping from his asshole, Dave was not yet sated. He looked over to Andreas, his more muscular but still diminutive son and indicated that it was his turn. Andreas removed his shirt and pants and stood looking up to his father in just his underpants. Dave wrapped his arms around Andreas and began to feel his body up. “You two boys remind me of your mother and myself years ago. Robbie you’re lovely and soft, smooth all over. Putting my dick in you is like sticking it to your mum’s tight wet pussy, and you scream and howl like she used to, like you can’t decide whether you’re on cloud nine to have my godly dick inside you or whether you’re terrified it’s going to rip you wide open. Andy,” he said, caressing his son’s chiselled face “you’re like me when I was in my 20s. Tight abs, nice pair of pecs and wide shoulders. Still a baby compared to me, but I love seeing the little similarities between us. And the way your six pack is always covered in stubble from you shaving that stubborn hair that won’t stop growing. Just drives me wild, let me stick my head in there!” He proceeded to motorboat his son’s pecs. He stood side by side next to his son, spread his legs slightly, and lifted his arms in the air, bringing his large hands into fists next to his head forming an impressive front double biceps pose. Andreas followed, the arrogant smirk on his face warming Dave’s heart. He put his hands around Andreas’ left biceps, squeezing them with ease. The two continues to pose down as Robert crawled over to the two of them and began worshiping them. Sucking his father’s still erect cock and working Andreas’ with his hand. “You really are just like your mother Robbie, such a good sucker. Once you’ve made me cum a second time I’m going to reward you by letting you come to bed with me.” Robert began to suck even harder and faster, he loved going to bed with his daddy, and he would lay in his daddy’s arms al night jerking off again and again, the two of them waking up in a sticky pool of both of their discharges that flooded over the edge of the bed and all over the floor. As his father shot his load down his son’s throat, Robert blacked out, probably deprived of oxygen and enjoyed several hours of comatose muscle worship dreams.
  22. Finally, another chapter.....a group of the boys are heading off for muscle worship in LA! Part 1. Sorry it has taken me so long to continue. ENJOY! Comments welcome... Links to chapters of "The Twenty": "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Precis, Introduction, Chapters 1 & 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 3, 4, 5 - White Cap Training / Hardcore Muscle / A Brief History of Casey Rockland "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 6 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapters 7, 8 - Hardcore Training, Part 1 / Tiffany's Talent "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapters 9, 10 - Good for Morale "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 11: Casey Meets the Muscle Squad "The Twenty" Chapter 12, Part 1: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 12: Part 2 Casey vs. Karim Abdul: A Very Turkish Wrestling Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 13: After the Match "The Twenty" - Chapter 14: In Which Casey Discovers He Likes to Get Worshipped "The Twenty" - Chapter 15: Casey's First Interview with Sergeant Moster "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress. Chapter 16 - Hardcore Training Part 2: Casey’s First Herculaneum Workout, and What Happened After "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 17 - The Presentation "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 18 - The Musclemen Revealed: Inside Zaftig's Lab "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress - Chapter 19 - Further Encounters, Part 1 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 20 - Pose and Approve: Further Encounters, Part 2 "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 21 - Sam and Casey "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 22 - Field Trips for Worship, Part 1 "The Twenty" - Chapter 23 - Field Trips, Part 2 – Casey Rediscovers Muscle Worship, and Makes a New Friend "The Twenty" - A Muscle Novel in Progress: Chapter 24 - Further Encounters 5: Sam and Casey Again, and Moster and the Cadets Chapter 22: Field Trips for Worship Part 1 December 5th, 2021 “And explain to me why again, Sergeant Moster, just precisely why this so-called “research” trip to Los Angeles is so necessary?” Moster and Zaftig were in his office. Dr. Zaftig sighed with studied patience, as if for the fiftieth time. It was part of the little act he put on every time Sergeant Rod Moster demanded a special (and highly expensive) worship excursion for the army of musclemen. And with the launch of each new off-campus foray, Zaftig always had Moster on the carpet in his lavish office, though he knew nothing he could ever say would cancel the trip, change the plan, or unnerve the massive muscle monster. Still, Zaftig tried. Damn, it wasn't even good science. “Once again, privately scheduled sessions with our client supporters is good for business, and for the men, it’s good for – “ “I know, it’s all for their morale…. .” Another sigh. “Sir,” said Moster, trying a recently discovered new tactic. “I don’t have your kind of money,” Zaftig nodded. It was a reasonable argument. “None of the men do. And the men need to earn some heavy lucre as well during their good years. Private worship sessions are…” “Yes, yes, so you have said. And I know that for you, rather than seeing these men as fighting machines, or heralds of an eternal fountain of youth, you see them as sexual receptacles, monsters of muscle and able to confer fantastic favors. I know, I know.” Another sigh. “In any event, they have decades of good years yet to come. I’ve seen to that. My work has seen to that. And yeah, yeah, I know, I know. It’s all good for fucking morale. Frankly, I don’t see it.” Moster raised an eyebrow. Such language was unheard of for Zaftig. These trips – and the inevitable costly clean-up aftermath – must be getting to him. He changed his tone accordingly. “The men require outside worship sessions, sir, and more frequently than you allow. As and as for the money…” “Fine. FINE. FINE. Take them to LA but be back in 48 hours.” “72 hours.” “FINE.” A pause. “How much do they make?” “Sir?” “Come on. Money. How much are they paid? Per ‘appearance’, if you want to put it that way. What’s the going rate?” Moster coughed a little. “They average about $6,000 each per ‘appearance’ as it were.” Zaftig whistled. “Wow. I assume that’s the for the whole group?” “No.” Moster paused.”Per man.” Zaftig reflected.”Per man….” Zaftig took it in, his attitude changed. He nodded reflectively. “And how much time per…. . performance?” “About one hour each.” “$6,000 an hour?” “Sir, the men will do anything they are requested to do.” He paused. “Anything. With anyone. As long as their muscles are being admired. As long as they’re being worshipped. Touched. Stroked. Praised. Longed for…” “Yeah, yeah, I get it, I get it.” Sergeant Moster was silent. “You do realize that you’re prostituting them. Right? Yes? You know this?” Moster said nothing. “Your silence tells me that you do understand exactly that. Where are you going this time?” “Brentwood. Then the Hollywood Hills.” “Oh, Christ. Movie people?” “Some. The money is best there.” “Is Dr. Shaft coming with you?” Moster paused. He hadn’t wanted this. “Yes, of course, if you insist.” “I would prefer it, yes. And try to stay out of the papers this time.” Moster smiled. “You mean try to stay off TMZ. Off Facebook. Instagram, SnapChat and YouTube?” Zaftig snickered, in spite of himself. “Yes, thank you for reminding me that I’m antediluvian. I know. You make your point. Yes. Whatever. Stay off the radar. Whatever the radar is these days, and whatever that may mean. Low profile. That means no unexpected hospitalizations, either.” "The men won't require medical care.” "I'm not talking about the men, I'm taking about the poor saps who are paying thousands of dollars per man who get the shit beat out of them. Jaws broken, eyes blackened, smashed noses, all in the way of ‘worship. ’ “It’s not that violent, sir.” “Bullshit. Who are you taking? The new boy, Casey?” “Yes. I am guessing I may be able to get $15,000 for Casey. $8,000 in his pocket. Perhaps more. It will be his first time, and he’s eager. And – we suspect he has extraordinary inner desires of his own which may increase the quality of the experience.” "Who else?" "Alvarez, Lang, Hension, Waring, Schumacher, Washington, Abdul, Obatu, and Gunst.” "Right. Ten of them.” “Yes.” “What's that thing that Alvarez and Lang do together. . . ?" "Pose and approve, sir.” "Yes.” Zaftig chucked. “Pose and approve. That's good. No Blankenship? I though he was one of your hottest boys. Missing gap teeth, knocked out by Abdul, all that.” “He wants to stay behind and work on his pecs. He’s dissatisfied. And we’re replacing those missing teeth.” Zaftig nodded. He knew. $10,000 for caps. He sighed again. “His pecs are perfect now.” “He wouldn’t agree. I assume, sir, we have your permission to go?” “Ten of them. Eleven, with you. I assume you’re part of the display?” Moster smiled. “I get $12,000.” “God. Of course you do. Yes, yes, go, go. GO. Take a driver who will stay sober and off drugs. Take Ferdinand. He doesn’t care, for crissakes. And take a reserve of White Caps, and take $18,000 in petty cash. Get it from Rose in the outer office. Try not to spend it in one place. Be back by Sunday night. “Yes, sir.” “And check in with Dr. Irving before you go. Take him with you for the private sessions.” Moster started out. “I want video! Good video. And make sure you meet up with Dr. Shaft. I want him to observe.” Moster stopped in the doorway and smiled grimly. “Oh, he’ll like that.” “Yes, he will. Try not to beat the crap out of him this time, Sergeant.” “I hardly “beat” him up….” “Last time you saw him personally, he wound up with two black eyes, a broken nose, and couldn’t sit down for a month without a sitz pillow.” “He enjoyed it all, sir.” “I know he did. All the same, I need to keep him alive.” He smiled a little. “However, you may spank him if you must. I know you like that.” “I look forward to it, sir.” Zaftig sighed, frustrated as always that his chief research fellow, the talented Dr. Shaft, was so crazily in need to worship his muscular lab rats. “I need his latest research on the effects of P21a, the new serum we’re working on, to promote healthier vascularity. I don’t want my men to start collapsing of heart attacks when they’re 55. Or have my chief researcher get beaten to death, however pleasurably and however much he asks for it. ‘Observing’ – I know, it’s bullshit…” Moster smiled once again at Zaftig’s unusual terminology. “Your language, sir…” “Fuck you.” “Yes, sir.” “Not that I want to.” Moster nodded, again inwardly respectful. Zaftig was, at heart, pure, with no sexual needs or inner longer for his mountainous boys. Moster couldn’t say the same of himself, with his own ever-present, barely cloaked need to spank their rocky, perfect glutes and have them all worship at the fountain of his own gigantic cock. And, for the few who could manage it, get his own mountainous butt deeply fucked. And somehow, he felt this made Zaftig slightly the stronger of the two. Zaftig was still talking about Dr. Shaft. “Just don’t hurt him this time. Don’t sit on his face for an hour. Last January your ass broke his collarbone, and after he complained to me, you saw him again, and once again, he couldn’t sit down for a month. I need him with the Join Chiefs in February. Hopefully unbandaged, and able to sit.” “You got it, chief.” “Don’t call me chief.” “Sorry, Dr. Zaftig. Anything else?” “Yes. Keep an eye on the new boy.” “Rockland?” “Yes. This is his first of your worship tours, right?” “Yep. Yes, sir. It is indeed.” “He’s used to…. the games you put the men through…. by now?” Zaftig spoke with resigned distaste. “He took right to it, sir.” “I might have known. But then, the source was Miles Donovan’s gym, after all.” “I don’t believe he was active there.” “No, that’s right, he wasn’t, I remember now. All right. That boy shows promise. Don’t ruin him.” “I haven’t ruined any of the men yet, sir.” “You’ve injected them all with the psychological need to pose naked in front of strangers who then proceed to beg them for outlandish sexual favors. I am not sure of the long term effects of this.” Moster regarded him evenly for a moment. “I am,” he said. “I am sure.” And turned to go. ****** Slightly before dawn the next morning the Valhalla bus – a $250,000 custom job, replete with comfortable plush seating, overwide aisles, juice bar, high speed Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, and a small snack counter - left the compound. Nine selected men, plus Sergeant Moster, Dr Irving, and the slightly disgusted if certainly envious, non-muscle worshipping bus driver Ferdinand were off to LA to make the select client rounds. Dr. Shaft had been alerted and was proceeding directly to LA in his own private car. Three appointments, in Brentwood, Beverly Hills, and in the Hollywood Hills, had been discreetly confirmed by Rose. The Hollywood Hills stop was to be the first of the evening – and was the biggest. The total cash earnings for the weekend of muscle worship in three locations might exceed $200,000. Barring any unusual cleanup expenses (furniture damage, walls replaced, carpet torn up and relaid, plumbing bills, broken windows, and so forth), hospitalizations or lawyer fees, the net gain could exceed $160,000. And after the appointments, the men were also to be allowed some free time after the obligatory scheduled visits. Each man was given a tablet and a private burner phone to make their own private client appointments. An hour into the drive, the men were finally calm, quiet, settled in, and busy. They all wore oversized, roomy grey sweats, Valhalla logos blazened across massive chests. Workout that morning had been scheduled for 4 AM, with another afternoon workout planned at Gold’s in Venice, which had been privately booked for the occasion, at a cost of $30,000. Biceps had been blasted to the explosion point, pecs worked past all expectations. Extra doses of P21 had been supplied and the already damaged muscles were well on their way to repair, ready for an afternoon blasting. In addition, the men had been cautioned in no uncertain terms by Moster neither to “play” nor cum for the 24-hour period before departure. Punishment for infringement would be a very public and very painful raw glutes paddling in the Gold’s Venice parking lot. None of the men wanted this, although the prospect of such attention in private was always appealing. And so, for more than a day not a man in the group had shot his load. Moster anticipated cumulative cumblasts would reach the multi-gallon point by weekend finish. Many a wealthy patron could look forward to a thorough facial of rich, thick cumshots following some vicious customer throat plowing and thorough client asshole destroying by the weekend wrap. It didn’t really matter, though. The men were looking forward to the worship sessions as much as, truth be told, was Moster, who relished the thought of a little flexing and posing on his own. Moster gave them all a little pep talk after they boarded. “Men, we’re on our way to LA. I know we have all been looking forward to this trip. Haven’t we, Casey?” The handsome young musclebuck was alone in his rear row seat, across the aisle from Hension, who was bent over in his seat, busily texting. Casey colored and glanced down into his lap, where he could see his massive tool twitching impatiently beneath yards of sweatsuit crotch fabric. He’d followed the directum even more than the most and not masturbated for three days. He thought he very well might die, so that morning he had blasted his biceps in the pre-dawn workout way past the agony point, with 30 minutes devoted to single arm curls at 250 pounds apiece. Nor had he sucked a cock for 3 days. Cocksucking was something new for him, and he now had an almost insatiable taste for it, preferring quietly to visit the unthreatening, pint-sized, pretty young kitchen boy Pedro for mutual blowjobs. Discreetly grabbed after hours 69 sessions that left them both breathless and elated. Pedro, unbelieving that so much beautiful muscle cock could be gently presented to his eager lips. Casey, awed that he actually preferred the pretty, undersized body of boytoy Pedro, with his perfect, normal-sized dick and average cumload. Inwardly Casey felt some satisfaction that he shared Pedro with Karim Abdul, who was unaware of sharing Casey’s preference for good-looking teens who weighed almost 200 pounds less than he did. Karim might get physically nasty if he knew Casey was also getting oral satisfaction from Pedro, and moreover was giving it back, something that had never occurred to Karim. And while Casey relished the idea of pummeling the Arab’s face black and blue for 15 or 20 minutes – which he knew he could do now, because he was probably stronger than any of them – nevertheless, he didn’t want Karim to take revenge on the defenseless, handsome little Puerto Rican. So he kept it all a secret. Besides, it was less about pure worship and more about bonding with another guy. He liked Pedro’s exceptionally pretty 7” cock. Not as big as the other men’s organs, true, but just as tasty, and on the slight, lean brown-skinned little Pedro, 7” went a long, long way. As for Pedro, now in the heaven era of his days on the planet, with all the discreet muscle action he was getting (he was also seeing Blankenship, Obatu and Gunst on the side, and had more big muscle cock to suck that he’d ever dreamed of), he was content to bypass worship sessions with Casey just to get down to the business of good teenboy cocksucking. And, best of all, Casey was nice. And surprisingly gentle. And surprisingly hungry. Casey glanced across the aisle. “What’re you doing?” Casey asked Hension. “Takin' care of business. I know what I want.” He scrubbed through his phone lists and speed dialed. “Hello, baby?” he asked. “Yeah, it’s me. Chris Hension. The muscledude. YEAH! That's ME. I’m comin’! I'm on the bus to LA now!! We can finally meet…. . tonight?? Awesome! Yeah, I’m ready for you, momma!. . . I got these big dirty muscles, see, and I’m gonna flex 'em all big time for ya, show you what I got, and then show you my package, and you’re gonna punish me for it all, right?? Slap my face good and hard? And then I can fuck you? And then you can fuck ME? And slap me some more??” He listened a moment, then shouted. “YEAH!” The bulge in his fly began to grow and he bounced eagerly in his seat. "Hey, baby, I kin hardly wait. . .” “Lower your voice, asshole,” Gunst groaned. “Sorry!” Hension continued his crooning conversation in a cackling lower voice. “Yeah, my pictures are real. Yeah, I’m really that handsome. And the muscles are real, too! Wanna picture now? Okay!” He positioned the phone and snapped a quick selfie, flexing his free biceps. Casey was amazed with what speed and dexterity Hension attached the image and sent it off. “He’s not that much smarter than I am…” Casey pondered. “How come he can do this so fast….?” “That’s me! Get it yet? Yeah??! That’s ME, baby! Why would I lie to you babe? We just gotta do some private worship appointments first…. worship…. you know, rich dudes admiring our muscles and then goin’ down on us….” He giggled….” Oh, yeah, I’m a bad boy, a real bad boy, I need some real punishment at the hands of a really sharp and pretty lady who knows what she’s doin’…” Lang, sitting with Alvarez in the row ahead, turned around in his seat and tapped Casey lightly on his superwide shoulder. “You been worshipped before, dude?” Casey was surprised that the normally watchful Lang was actually speaking to him. He paused, smiled weakly, remembered his cadet buddies, thought briefly of Pedro, remembered the cadets in his room, and nodded shyly. “Yeah, I guess. Yeah.” “It come to anything?” “Well….” “You like it?” Casey thought a little. He smiled weakly. “Yeah. I liked it. I liked it a lot.” "Thought so.” Alvarez, window seat, turned and looked back as well. “Done it professionally?” he asked. “Um. No. Professionally?" "Get paid for it?" "No. Not yet.” Alvarez nodded and turned back to the window. “You’ll dig it!” said Lang enthusiastically. “It’s awesome. Dudes with money who can’t get enough of our muscles!! Flex for a few minutes and they give you all they got.” He turned back in his seat, texting. “Who we seein’?” Casey heard Lang ask. “We got some good ones…lotsa scratch. . . . we'll all make out.” He turned back to Casey. "You got privates, you call them now.” “Privates?” Casey thought they were referring to his junk. “Yeah. Privates. You know. Schmoes.” “What are schmoes?” “Dude, you know nothing.” “He hasn’t had time, dummy,” said Alvarez. He turned back to Casey and spoke not unkindly. “You’ll do fine on the worship circuit once you get out there. Make some connections.” He turned back to his phone, and Casey couldn’t hear anything else. Privates. No, no privates. How could he have privates if he never was paid before? Casey thought about all this. And dreamed. He settled his bulk back in his plush seat and gazed at the landscape roaring by, unseeing, beyond the tinted windows. He had no one to text to arrange a private yet. He didn’t know anybody, really. But maybe that would come later. Because . . . . . . . he longed to revisit his muscle planet, the one he’d first glimpsed in darkness when his buddies had gathered around him in his old dorm room. Where, led by smirking, smiling, but approving Cadet Banks, his buddies had started to stroke and touch and caress his muscles, murmuring their obeisance. And he’d gone to the moon. And further. He remembered. It was just Casey in the galaxy. Flexing his muscles. His huge ripped vascular ungodly magnificent muscles. It wasn’t the same when the other men of The Twenty were with him, after all. EVERYONE was huge, after all. He may be a little bigger, a little better, a little younger, a little more hung – but it was a close call for this group of unfucking godly superhero X-Men, or whatever they all were supposed to be. His veins may be like rivers, but so were Schumacher’s. His biceps may peak at 25 or 26 inches, but so did Gunst’s. And his dick might be 12 or 14 inches or whatever it was, but Moster’s was a fucking cannon that could probably shoot unfucking godly amounts of cumspray, he didn’t know, since the man didn’t choose to empty his load on him yet – or anyone. Casey pondered a bit. How exactly did Moster get off, anyway? He put it out of his head. He was gonna visit his muscle planet tonight. That much he knew. Soon he was asleep. He drifted off and thought about flexing his muscles for a sea of admiring multitudes, high on a magic mountain, far, far away. **** Four hours later, they arrived in Santa Monica. The men, having made their appointments, had fitfully slept through most of the trip in their individual over-sized seats. After checking into a discreet private hotel – Dr. Irving with his clipboard in the lobby, making sure to lose no one to wandering among the canals of Venice – it was a quiet side-street hotel filled with oversized rooms, well set back from the boardwalk - they were off to the gym. The men trained quickly and discreetly, fully covered, at Gold’s Gym Venice Beach, privately booked by Valhalla, and paid for in cash. Quickly exploding every muscle group, the men spread out and pumped up, finally blasting a few quick deep 600 pound squats, 300 pound curls, bench presses, delt raises, and working glutes, glutes, glutes. Afterwards, Moster treated them all to a fast high-protein and high-animal fat meal at The Fire House, where the muscle monsters dominated the terrace, ignoring the crowd stares. “Who the fuck are those dudes?” wondered one unusually stupid huge national competitor from a nearby table. “I don’t know,” answered his muscle john, an elderly queen taking his big boy out to lunch. “I never been onstage with them before. Hey, where ya goin’?” “I just wanted to…” “You stay with me, baby. You lookin’ for a knuckle sandwich? I’m the dude you’re payin’ to get big. You go over there, you messing with me.” “Okay, okay…” “You wanna keep all your teeth, dude,” he warned, but looked enviously over at the huge men, sitting at four tables stacked together. Who are those guys? he wondered. Shit. Look at the size of them. Shit. Other muscle schmoes gazed longingly at the tables filled with the huge musclemen, bulging out of their clothes, none of them known, none of them ever having competed before on the national stages, and wondered, and dreamed. One muscle daddy competitor thought he recognized Moster from years back, but promptly dismissed it. Couldn’t be. That black fucker there looks about 30. Rod Moster would be near to 50 by now. Impossible. Impossible. The Fire House fell into unaccustomed silence as the eleven muscle strangers ate. Casey was aware of all the covert attention, but toed the company line, looking at no one and saying nothing. Still, he ached inwardly to be seen, to be admired, to be looked at, gazed at, touched, stroked, wondered over, worshipped. Alvarez, munching his 4th ostrich burger, gazed around the room. Lotsa possibilities here. He glanced at Lang, chowing down on a steak, unaware of anything but his food and his burning muscles. Hension winked at a beautiful fitness girl at a nearby table, who smiled back. “Wanna slap me?” he mouthed silently to her, pointing to one of his scruffy cheeks as he happily chewed his buffalo burger. She looked back at him puzzled. “What?” she mouthed back. “Slap my face?” he mouthed again. “What did he say?” asked her friend. “I’m not sure but I think he wants me to slap him.” “Whatever. I’d do it,” said her girlfriend. She glanced over. Then stared. “Fuck me, is he gorgeous,” she added. “That’s about the prettiest face I have ever seen on a man.” Hension smiled and rapidly beat his tongue against his teeth, grinning hugely, pointing to both cheeks, gestured ‘call me’. The girls just stared. “Is he dumb or something?” one of them wondered. Moster barked at him. “Hension, pay attention to your meal.” Hension returned his gaze to his plate. Jeez, he thought. Pretty girls everywhere. How can I meet one? Still, he had high hopes for his online mistress. After paying up ($1,050 for lunch for 12) they returned to their hotel resting for forty minutes. They had strict orders not to play. Or cum. Or else. “Departure at 8:30 PM,” barked Moster as they got off the bus. “Dress in regulation tan slacks and t-shirts. Super-support double mesh posing trunks underneath. Clean yourselves thoroughly. Personal cleaning. I will be checking. Then get some rest. White caps at 8:15. You men have a long night ahead.” ****** The bus pulled up the drive at 9 PM. It was a large cliffside home high in the Hollywood Hills, lavish and dark, with a glimmering pool in the back and fountains quietly spraying gallons of illegal water. Beyond, the glittering lights of LA shone in the far distance. The first stop of the evening. Zaftig’s longtime off campus associate, the puny weasel Dr. Shaft, was waiting inside, in attendance with a group of 9 investors, all quite anxious to see the young gods in action. The men filed off the bus. “Golly, who lives here?” asked Hension, awestruck by the size of the place. “Some movie producer,” murmured Lang. Casey barely noticed. He was headed off soon to his private muscle planet, and was all ready to flex. Moster, who had gotten off the bus first, quietly barked orders in the large circular drive. “Inspection. Strip down, men,” he commanded. “I don’t want to keep our hosts waiting.” The ten musclemen hopped and danced in the half light, removing slacks, baggies, t-shirts, jeans, shorts, underwear, jock straps, thongs, and boots as poor long-suffering Dr. Irving ran from man to man, frantically gathering up discarded clothing, quickly organizing as to owner, and distributing the proper poser to the proper man. Each poser was personally assigned, custom-tailored to cut across inches south of the lower abs, reveal generous slices of meaty glutes in back, and with frontal sag sufficient to generously reveal the top six inches of root and thick, plunging shaft of each man. The side straps, while thin, were sufficiently strong to hold even at top erection. “Oil up, men.” Bottles of mineral oil were passed around, and the men dutifully applied slathers of oil to their muscles. Finally they were ready, their muscles gleaming in the night. “Line up, squad,” said Moster. “Adjust your posers. When you pull your pants down, I want these dudes to see your top six inches of root and cockshaft.” He had stripped down himself and was now rubbing his own oil in to his mountainous black muscles. “I know with some of you that still leaves another 6 inches or more covered up. Right, Casey?” “More,” said Casey. Still, in the dark Casey turned deep red, still immediately shamed by the thoughts of his huge, unhideable cock. He still wasn’t quite over those years of taunting. Which always flashed his thoughts quickly to Tiffany. Good thing the ginger-haired terror wasn’t with them tonight. Casey always performed better when that boy was nowhere near. “Waring, get over here and do my back.” Waring went to Moster, dutifully pouring oil onto his calloused palms, mixing them back and forth as if he was tossing a muscle salad, and smacked Moster’s broad back hard, rubbing thick oil deep into Moster’s wide lats. The Sergeant felt the man’s rough blisters on his back and smiled. “You’ve been working, Private.” “Yes, sir, I sure have, sir.” The men fell into line, and awaited inspection. Moster paced in front of the muscle lineup and critically appraised his special forces team: Alvarez, Lang, Hension, Schumacher, and Waring. Washington, Abdul, Obatu, Gunst and Rockland. Muscle gods all. He nodded his satisfaction. “Line up according to height. Shortest man first. Private Hension, that’s you.” Hension was pushed to the head of the line. “Put the pretty boy first,” guffawed Obatu. Hension colored deeply, embarrassed as always to be referred to as the group ‘pretty boy’, but obeyed orders. “Dr. Irving, distribute White Caps,” Moster ordered. Irving passed the ration of capsules to the group. “It’s going that be that kind of showing, hunh?” chuckled Obatu. He popped a capsule and within seconds began to envision his powerful sexual fantasies come to life. He tugged slightly on his poser and glanced down to make sure the prominent, pulsing thick veins of his mighty dipping cockshaft were showing. He nudged Washington. “Check it out,” he said. Washington nodded. “Suckable,” he said, busily squeezing his own nipples into pointy hardness. Moster crossed behind the men and walked along, surveyed the lineup of rolling, hard, powerful glutes. He nodded. Huge mountains of gleaming, perfect, rock hard butt. “Butthole inspection,” he announced. Corporal Karim wished he had his butt plug with him, but didn’t betray himself with even a flicker across his stern face. He scowled, but even so Moster knew what the man wanted. He glanced down at Karim’s achingly firm glutes. “You clean, Corporal?” he asked. “Yes, sir.” “Good.” Moster knelt, lowered the man’s posers for a moment to quad height, and quickly inserted his thick fist deeply up inside the man’s butthole, up to his wrist. Karim never flinched. Moster rotated his fist, and just as quickly withdrew, with a butthole POP!, noting to his satisfaction that the Corporal was indeed clean. “Keep your concentration.” He wiped his fist with anti-bacterial lube and moved on to the next man. Hension was looking apprehensive. Moster approached him. “Any women inside?” Hension asked nervously. “Why do you ask, Private?” “Sir, for my best performance, sir, I like to get my face slapped first. And during. By a pretty girl with muscles.” “Not here tonight,” said Moster. “Bend over.” “Yes, sir!” Hension bent over, showing his twin glutes of extreme hardness, shape and striation. Moster lowered the muscleboy’s posers, made a fist, and once again plunged his fist up to his wrist up Hension’s taut butthole, twisting, probing and turning. Like Abdul, Hension never even raised an eyebrow as his welcoming rosebud enveloped the powerful fist. He was excited about lay ahead. His cock began its 12-inch journey to solid stiffness. He pulled his posers back up with some difficulty and wrapped the taut cloth as best he could around his growing engine. Alvarez appeared serene. He knew a good Pose and Approve session was ahead. Lang glanced at him and smiled. Alvarez was best with an audience. An admiring audience. His cock twitched in anticipation. Moster was quick with Alvarez, nodding approval, quickly inserting a probing fist, and moving on to Lang, doing the same. Up the drive at the house, a curtain fluttered. Someone was watching. Alvarez nudged Lang. “What?” asked Lang, clueless. “You see that?” “See what?” Alvarez smiled. “This is gonna be fun.” He stood “Let’s see those biceps, Gunst,” Moster commanded. Gunst complied, and flexed his meaty guns. “26 inches this morning, sir.” “Excellent. Turn around and bend over.” Gunst complied and Moster’s fist entered his butthole. He nodded satisfaction. Moster continued down the line of musclemen, inspecting pecs, nipples, hard abs, and ending with each man by inserting a giant fist up an eager butthole. Finally it was Casey’s turn. “Ever been fisted before?” Moster asked crisply. Casey had to admit it. “Yes, sir.” He turned around and bent over, his perfect butt now in Moster’s face, his fists buried in his obliques, jutting out his butt. It was an incredible ass. Two round globes of muscular golden flesh, perfect, hard-as-nails ovals of sleek construction. Powerful, huge, an incredible human loading dock of rounded power. Inside the darkened buttcrack Moster could see close-up the throbbing, inviting deep of Casey’s perfect butthole. Moster plunged his fist in, and turned it, pulling it out again after a minute. Clean as a whistle. “Good work, Rockland. “ Casey stood, turned and smiled. “I think you’re ready.” He turned to the driver, standing by the bus, impassively staring. “Ferdinand, Dr. Irving, come back in an hour. We should be done by then.” Then, quietly, he asked Irving, “Did the money come in yet?” “This afternoon, sir,” answered Irving. “$35,000.” “Good.” Moster took his place at the end of the line. “Shaft here yet?” “Inside, Sir.” Dr. Irving fiddled with his phone, getting frantic texts from Dr. Shaft. “Good. Give the men back their clothes. Men, get dressed.” Much fumbling and hopping about in the dark. Then- “Move out, men.” The musclemen marched into the entranceway of the one-story cliffside glass house and, single file, marched into the brightly lit living room. Inside now. Nine manicured, pampered, plumpish Hollywood movie execs, dressed in expensive Italian suits, ties down, were draped around the room, propped up on large plush sofas, drinks in hand, cellphones and Blackberries at the ready, waiting inside. Two or three were handsome enough to gain Alvarez’s slight interest. The smell of marijuana wafted through the air. They’d been drinking. And smoking. And snorting lines of coke. In fact, they were all smashed. And ready. “Fucking finally! Bring on the talent!” one of them yelled as the men entered. But as the musclemen got into the room and turned, facing their clients, at full attention, the movie dudes were stunned into silence. The musclemen were themselves stunned into a moment silence by the lavishness of the room that spread out before them, and the extraordinary view of the city through the plate glass windows, far, far below. The drapes had been opened. The moon shone full in the sky. “Wow,” breathed Lang. Dr. Shaft rose from a white sofa. On one side of him sat three overweight, bespectacled jowly men, and on the other, a young twenty-something nerd with a pretty face, scruffy hair, in an Iggy Pop t-shirt and too tight ripped jeans. Next to him was another squirrely looking guy, equally skinny and pale. “Good evening, Sergeant Moster. Good evening, men.” “Good evening, Dr. Shaft. Men, you all know Dr. Shaft.” Hi, yeah, sure, hello, uh hunh, yeah we see him, etc etc, came from the men. “May I introduce you to your hosts?” asked Dr. Shaft. And the lineup of musclemen turned to their seated, agog clients. Their hands at their sides, fists clenched, veins popping, tight white shirts wrapped around massive physiques. Legs spread wide. Quads bursting out of slacks. Biceps about to tear shirt sleeves. Fly bulges loomed to the floor. And the clients, schmoes all, stared back. Breathing. Panting. “Fuck, man. They’re fucking huge,” said the skinny nerd. He gulped. “Whatta they gonna do to us?” “You mean…what are they going to do for you,” said Sergeant Moster.”May I present…. nine of the most muscular men on the planet today.” He paused, glanced at his watch. “You have one hour.” He turned to the men. “Men, you may go to work.”
  23. muscleaddict

    The Day I Became A Muscle Freak (Part 4)

    Link to part 1 here Link to part 2 here Link to part 3 here "I better hit some more poses for you then hadn't I mate?", I said to my aroused admirer, who was now suddenly beaming at the prospect of watching me flex more. With both hands resting on my hips, I looked at my lucky spectator head on and slowly cranked down into a explosive must muscular. As I hit the peak of the pose and squeezed with effort, I released a loud, arrogant, "ARRRGGHHHHH". "Fuck YES!", The Transformer exclaimed. In response, I released one hand, curled it into a fist and squeezed out yet another most muscular with a shamelessly cock, "YEEEAAAAHHH"! I then made my boldest move yet. I walked, no, strutted towards The Transformer until I was merely a few feet away from the couch he was sitting on, and releasing my loudest and most aggressive growl yet, I bought both my arms up and then cranked down hard into a brutal and intense crab most muscular. "GAAARRRGGGHHHH"! I squeezed and squeezed as hard as I could. Every single body part was tensed and strained to the absolute max. My whole body just a mass of huge, tight, flexed muscle, squeezed into the ultimate bodybuilding pose. "OH FUUUUCK"! The Transformer's eyes were wider than ever before. He looked as if he was struggling to breathe and a look of sheer panic suddenly swept across his face. Was watching a huge, inhumanly conditioned bodybuilder flexing and squeezing out an explosive crab most muscular just a few feet away from him, while releasing the most outrageous and arrogant growl about to cause The Transformer to cum? His whole body suddenly began to tremble. "Oh God no!", he exclaimed. Oh God YES!! Fucking blow that load mate. Watch me flex my huge, freak-like muscles and just fucking CREAM IT!! Still squeezed in my crab most muscular to the absolute max, I released one last grizzly growl in The Transformer’s face, guaranteed to push him over the edge, and cause a major mess in his undies. "GGGRRRAAAARRR"! And that's when it happened. Completely snapping me out of my pose, an intensely bright, white light suddenly started to radiate from The Transformer’s body, which was now jolting with force underneath. It was so bright I had no option but to cover up my eyes with my huge, bronzed forearm. Confused at what was happening and scared for my new found admirers well being, when the brightness seemed to vanish, I anxiously pulled my arm away to ensure that he was OK. What I saw startled me so much that I released a yell and instinctively backed away. A stranger had somehow gotten into The Transformer's house. That was my initial thought. And then I realised, the man sitting on the same coach, in the exact same spot as The Transformer had, was not a stranger at all. The absurdly gorgeous man who'd been dubbed "THE REAL LIFE G.I JOE", and had appeared as a model on the cover of a men's fitness magazine, the man with impressively pumped arms, a fantastic chest and an absolutely jaw droppingly perfect physique, the man who had the power to transform others into any living person for twenty-four hours, was in fact, a slightly nerdy looking, still rather cute, but mostly unremarkable looking man of slim build, with very little evidence of muscle mass under the t-shirt which was now about two sizes too big for me. Completely lost for words, The Transformer looked at me with a deeply embarrassed and sorry look on his face. A face I then suddenly realised I'd seen before. "It's you", was all I could pathetically say. "The guy in the picture in the Star Trek costume". He sheepishly offered me a deflated smile. "Minus the ears", he replied. With the comment, and the reality of the situation which had suddenly dawned on me, I felt my mouth curling into a huge, amused grin. "So I guess you can also transform yourself into anyone you like"? Still looking extremely embarrassed, he picked up the fitness magazine from the coffee table and holding it up to reveal the man who not five minutes ago was sitting talking to me, sheepishly replied, "Anyone I like". I couldn't stop smiling. I'd been so nervous in the presence of this guy, and all the time he was just an just an average built, slightly geeky looking but admittedly still pretty cute bloke who, on occasion, liked to dress up in Star Trek costumes. And there I was. A shredded fucking muscle God in shiny pink posers. Towering over him. Almost on the verge of making him cum in his pants. Most people wouldn't even look twice at the guy who was sat sheepishly in front of me. Whilst the body I was then inhibiting caused people from all corners of the globe to cum just from looking a photo of it on the Internet. And yet, something was abundantly clear to me. Me and this guy; we were exactly the same. The incident had clearly knocked his confidence. "I never transform people as my regular self mate", he began to explain. I carried my 200 lbs body of ripped muscle and sat next to The Transformer on the couch. He looked slightly terrified as I sat down next to him, and couldn't seem to stop staring at my huge pecs, but he continued to explain regardless. "It's just to protect my identity really. I must have gotten my timings wrong. I saw that guy in the magazine yesterday and thought - yeah, it might be kinda fun to be that hot for a day". "I think I can relate to that", I said. With this, The Transformer seemed to relax a little, and he flashed me the first hint of his real, rather adorable smile. Sitting next to him on his couch, the size difference between us was ridiculous. My thick bronzed legs alone looked about three times as big as his. I felt a heady mix of power, superiority and overwhelming arousal. I also suddenly had a strange urge to dive towards The Transformer, kiss him and just embrace him with my sheer mass. "But I'll be honest mate”, he continued. ”I do this a fair bit. Transform myself. Not that I don't like the real me. I mean, I'm no G.I Joe but, I'm fine with the way I look. I more do it...for fun". And with this, his mouth curled into the most mischievous smirk. "I think I can relate to that too", I said. We were sat smiling at each other, when it suddenly dawned on me just how much I actually liked him. Not just the gorgeous fitness model, G.I Joe version either. I mean, granted, he was one beautiful fucking man. But the real version too. "Soooo", I began. “Before you transformed, you seemed to be enjoying watch me flex.” "Too fucking right I was mate!", he exclaimed. "So I could do a bit more posing for you, or...I could show you my superpower"? His eyes widened and he suddenly looked excited. "The second one mate"! He then looked a bit confused and flustered and quickly said, "No, the posing. No wait. Oh shit - do I have to chose just one?" I chuckled and felt my heart flutter just a tiny bit as I struggled to comprehend just how endearing and utterly adorable he was - whether in this body or his previous one. "Why don't we start with the superpower", I said. "OK", he grinned excitedly. "You ready"? I asked. The Transformer nodded and I took his hand in mine. The difference between them was almost comical. His pale, average sized and perfectly normal in appearance, mine big, bronzed, veiny and anything but normal. He smirked giddily and I felt an instant surge of electricity as we touched. That smile almost tripled and his eyes widened to a brilliant degree as I bought my left arm up into a one armed bicep flex, and firmly planted The Transformer’s hand around the gloriously bronzed ball of muscle exploding before his eyes. As his fingers wrapped around the rock hard and indecently sized peak of my freakish left bicep, I squeezed hard, looked The Transformer in the eye and released an outrageously cocky, "YEEEEAAHHH!", in his face. "OH FUCK"! The Transformers mouth was hung open and his look was part way between shock and sheer pleasure. With my palm still firmly covering the back of The Transformer’s hand, his fingers continued to dig into the freakishly sized bicep muscle. As I squeezed as hard as I possibly could, I gritted my teeth and released a deep, loud growling noise. "GRRRRRRRRR"! And that's when it happened. "OH FUUUUUUCK!", The Transformer exclaimed. His mouth and eyes grew wider, and his legs began to shake. "Oh Gaaawwwwwwd", he cried. With his mouth stretched open as wide as it possibly could be, he threw his head back, and, still firmly gripping my bicep, his whole body started making quick, sharp jolting movements, and he unleashed a chorus of the loudest, orgasmic groans of pleasure. "GRRR-YEEEEEAHHH", I growled over the top of The Transformer’s moans of ecstasy, which then turned into pants, groans of, "Oh God", "Oh fuck" and then, finally, into giddy laughs of post-orgasmic joy. Half an hour into my day of being a huge, shredded muscle freak and I'd already made someone cum in their pants. "Fucking HELL", The Transformer cried, as he tried to catch his breath, unable to wipe the huge smile off his flustered face. With my bicep then un-flexed, I unwrapped my palm from around The Transformer’s hand, which proceeded to slide off my mound of muscle mass. "Wait!", he said, his mind ticking over as he studied his now free hand. "Was that your superpower"? I looked at him and smirked. "I touched you...and I came", he said, trying to figure out what my mysterious power was. "No. You touched me and I came". He'd cracked it, and then he spoke my infamous superpower name. "You're...you're The Human Orgasm"! I blushed slightly, continued to grin and playfully raised my eyebrows. "Imagine that"! "So...you make people cum just by touching them? WOW!", he said. "Yep! Well...only if I want to obviously", I assured him. "Phew. Well that's good", he said. "That would make shaking a strangers hand very awkward". I laughed and thought it best not to mention the fact that before I really learned how to control my power, that very extremely awkward scenario actually did occur on one occasion. Instead, without really thinking I blurted out, "I only do it with guys I like". I hadn't meant for the comment to be flirtatious or suggestive at all, but as soon as it slipped out, I realised that it qualified as being both. The Transformer blushed furiously, and his mouth uncontrollably grew into his giddiest grin yet. "I have a confession", he said. "OK", I curiously replied. He adorably took a deep breath. I had no idea what The Transformer was about to say, but he was clearly very nervous about it. "I think you're cute". I was completely baffled. It was such an odd comment to give to a 200 lbs muscle freak known for his insane conditioning, alien-like quads and thick, shredded glutes. A muscle freak who'd just made him cum in his pants while he digged his fingers into one of his rock hard, freakishly huge, fully flexed bicep. "Oh-kay", I replied. "Thanks"! "No! Not this guy. I mean - yes, you're cute. He's cute. Kind of". He didn't sound too convincing of the last part. "I meant - you're cute. The real you." His shoulders relaxed and my heart started fluttering once more. "I thought it from the moment you turned up at the door. And I knew you fancied me. Well - him. Who wouldn't? And I know you were probably checking out my arse when you followed me into the flat". I couldn't help but smirk at this particular statement, as he continued. "He does have a nice arse. I mean - it's nothing like THAT arse. Fuck! But yeah - I just wanted to say. I think you're cute. Really, really cute". I could barely wipe the smile off my face. I had no idea what to say to those completely adorable words, so I thought for a moment, and calmly spoke the first words which came into my head. "I'm gonna kiss you." His mouth grew into the most uncontrollable smirk. "But", I continued. "Not like this. I'm gonna come back here in twenty-four hours, when the transformation has worn off, and I'm no longer in Stephen Dresner’s body, and then I'm gonna kiss you. If you'll let me". The Transformer couldn't stop grinning. "I guess I'll see you in twenty-four hours then". "But you have to be the real you too", I explained. "You wouldn't prefer me to be "The Real Life G.I Joe"? I shook my head. "No. Although", I began, my mind drifting to the inexplicably gorgeous man who'd answered the door to me earlier that afternoon, "You can always turn into him afterwards. If you want". He laughed, and as we sat there smiling at each other, the chemistry between us felt stronger and more evident than ever. A knot suddenly arose in my stomach and the giddiness and excitement I had been experiencing up until that moment unexpectedly and momentarily turned into fear as I realised that I could really see myself falling for the guy sitting next to me. Here I go again. "So Tobey", The Transformer began. "How are you planning to spend the next twenty-four hours, like, well...THAT?", he asked, pointing at my outrageously muscular, gloriously chiselled, muscle popping physique. The question suddenly pulled my thoughts away from any potential love affair with The Transformer and back to the sole reason why I’d met him in the first place; to inhibit the inexplicably muscular and freak show worthy body of a genuine, competition conditioned bodybuilder. I suddenly felt an incredible surge of excitement at the possibilities which lay ahead. I had planned to spend a good portion of the day flexing, touching, worshipping and cumming over my own freaky muscle mass in the mirror, but the incredible rush and power I’d felt from The Transformer’s reaction to my body was suddenly giving me a few other ideas. I also couldn't deny the huge ego trip I was experiencing just from being so much bigger than The Transformer. Being that huge, being so different in appearance, not just to him, but the majority of the people outside of his flat. Knowing I was a freak that people would queue up just to merely touch. Knowing I could make certain people cum just on appearance alone. It was incredibly intoxicating. "I think I kind of wanna...freak people out", I mischievously said. "Just strut through a city centre in shorts and a tight revealing vest. My enormous, freaky, bronzed beef just spilling out for everyone to see. Watch the looks of fear and confusion. Hear the shocked gasps and see the awe-stricken glares. If they stare hard enough I might stop and hit a cheeky double bicep just for the hell of it. YEAH! Or maybe squeeze a quick, hard crab most muscular in their faces. BOOM!" Clearly liking what he was hearing, The Transformer was listening intently and grinning like mad. "Watch you don't get arrested for giving some poor old dear a heart attack". I laughed and continued. "Or maybe I could waddle into my local Tesco’s. Take off my shirt and drop my shorts to reveal my pink trunks and just start hitting some poses in the middle of the meat aisle. OOOOOF"! The Transformer laughed and shook his head. "Has anyone ever told you you're a little bit of a nutter mate"? I grinned. "Only the people who know me best". He suddenly looked a little deflated as he spoke his next words. "Well Tobey, I should probably let you go. Muscles to flex, people to freak out and all that. You might have to turn sideways to fit through my front door mind". I laughed and, bringing my fists either side of my waist, I spontaneously hit a front lat spread for The Transformer to show off my impressively thick lats, with a cheeky, short, dog-like bark; "RUFF"! I couldn't deny it. I was really enjoying The Transformer's company. Just sitting there with him felt new and exciting and I suddenly felt a twinge of sadness that our encounter was coming to an end. "I guess I'll see you in twenty-four hours then". I didn't even know his name, and, given the kind of service he provided, and much like anyone who "sold" their superpower, I wasn't expecting him to provide it just yet. So, taking his hand and intertwining his fingers with mine, while affectionately looking him in the eyes, I christened him with a new nickname. "Mr McSpunky-Pants". He squeezed my hand and giddily and affectionately gazed back at me and gave me my own adorable name. "Yep. See you in twenty-four hours. Tobey McCutie-Bum". "Unless", I began. His eyes widened and his face suddenly lit up in anticipation of my next words. "You want to come with me"? "You mean it?", he endearingly and excitedly asked. "Of course", I replied, shaking our hands which were we still locked together. "Tesco’s here we come!", he brilliantly said. "Wait", he continued. "You mean...come as me you mean?", he asked. "Like this"? "Sure", I replied. I hadn't really thought of an alternative. "Hmmmm", he said thinking. "We could do that. Or, I could transform into someone else". "You could", I said. "Though I am rather partial to this version". He blushed and replied, "I'm just thinking, on this occasion, we might have more fun if I transformed into…a different person". "Ok", I curiously said. "Do you have anyone specific in mind"? It was at this point that The Transformer reached for, and picked up my muscle magazine lying on his coffee table. He flipped the pages so the magazine was closed, and once again looked at the picture of the huge, hardcore, fully flexed bodybuilder on the front cover. The very bodybuilder who'd freaked him out and caused such an extreme reaction the first time he’d seen it. His mouth curled into a devilish grin as he looked from the bodybuilder on the magazine to me and answered my question. “Oh…I may have a certain someone”. The End
  24. muscleaddict

    The Day I Became A Muscle Freak (Part 3)

    Link to part 1 here Link to part 2 here The Transformation started with a slight tingling sensation running up and down my arms. Although my eyes were jammed shut I could sense a bright light in the room. The feeling in my arms quickly transformed into an intense, almost euphoric sensation, almost like I was being lifted off the ground. As it spread to my entire body, it became so intense that I suddenly became short of breath, and what started as a wobbling in my legs quickly turned into my whole body shaking. The transformation ended with one final, intense jolt like I was suddenly falling, or being pushed from behind. I was completely convinced that I'd open my eyes to find myself lying on the floor of The Transformer's flat. It was only when I suddenly regained feeling in my feet that I realised, against all odds, they were still planted firmly on the floor. Only they weren't my feet at all. They felt different. Almost alien. And bigger. They definitely felt bigger. In fact, everything felt bigger. It was my body. But it wasn't. My arms felt further away from my torso. My thighs were touching. My chest stuck out more. And there was more of my body round the back. A lot more. Almost like something big had been stuck on to me. What was that?! "OH MY FUCKING GOD"! The statement from the other man in the room made me jump and forced me to open my eyes. The Transformer was gawping at me in complete awe, sheer disbelief and slight fear. It was only when I caught sight of my reflection that I knew why. "OH FUCK", I exclaimed. Staring back at me in the mirror was an outrageously muscular, excessively developed, inhumanly shredded bodybuilder in bright pink posing trunks. I was huge. A fucking beast. A living, breathing anatomy chart. A barely human, grotesquely muscular freak. "FUUUUUCK"! I couldn't stop staring at the mountain of huge, rock hard, deliciously bronzed muscle mass in the mirror. My legs looked fucking mutated. Rips, cuts and lines I never thought possible ran over the ridges and rock-like mass which made up my quads. How, just HOW did these legs classify as being human? Six granite hard and gorgeous looking bricks of muscle protruded from my stomach. Each one separated by the deepest of cuts. My whole midsection covered with crazy lumps and alien bumps. It was like a work of art. A freaky, but beautiful creation. And my skin. Did I even have any? All that was there was a thin layer of darkly bronzed film, spread over the perfectly chiselled array of muscle erupting from my torso. And the pecs. Holy fuck. I had pecs! Two plates of thick, bulging mass trapped under the gloriously golden skin of my enormous sized chest, almost begging for release. My shoulders looked like they'd been replaced by two enormous boulders, and my arms had tripled in width and size. Veins were snaking all over my upper body to an almost terrifying degree. A sure reminder that humans really weren't supposed to look like this. "Fucking look at me mate", I excitedly exclaimed to the man responsible for my new freak show worthy existence. It was a completely redundant instruction of course, because The Transformer, still wearing his awe stricken expression, couldn't tear his eyes away from me. "Tobey, you're HUGE!", he adorably exclaimed. I suddenly felt a surge of confidence I hadn't previously when I'd been sat in front of this devastatingly handsome man in my normal body. "FUCK YEAH!", I confidently exclaimed. "And I'm fucking SHREDDED!", I added, once more admiring the insane striations and razor sharp cuts running across my entire body and separating every single crazily developed muscle. "How's the rear view mate?", I asked, spinning around to treat The Transformer to a view of me from the back. I was expecting a big reaction, but I never would have predicted the next words to emerge from my new admirers mouth. "FUCK! LOOK AT THAT BUM"! I sharply twisted my head round and it suddenly became apparent why I had felt like there was more of me round the back. Sticking out, either side of my shiny pink posers, now filled out to an absolutely laughable degree, was the biggest, and most developed arse I could ever imagine. The exact same arse that Stephen Dresner was so well known for. It. Was. HUGE. Copious amounts of bum beef just unashamedly sticking out for the whole world to see. "HOLY FUCK!", I exclaimed as I admired my new outrageously developed, rock hard glutes in the mirror. Other than their sheer size and development, there was something else these very glutes of Stephen's were famous for too. Still with my back to the mirror, but my head twisted round, I tensed the two gigantic orbs of meat nestling in my trunks. Sure enough, out of nowhere, a dozen deep lines and striations erupted underneath the frighteningly thin skin covering them, to reveal what had to be one of the most freakishly conditioned asses in bodybuilding. Out of nowhere, and without any sort of pre-thought, I suddenly blurted out in an admittedly cocky and rather outrageous manner, "FUCK YEAH GLUTES"! Following this outburst, I looked over at my unwilling spectator and suddenly felt a slight twinge of concern. Transfixed with my huge, freaky, striation plastered bottom, The Transformer's mouth was hanging open. And where his expression was still awe stricken and shocked, he also looked a tiny bit terrified. "Is this freaking you out mate"? He quickly responded with an instinctive no, before more honestly saying yes and adding, "I mean. It IS freaking me out. But. Fuck"! He shook his head and the right side of his mouth suddenly curled into a smile. I knew then that whatever conflicting feelings The Transformer was having, one thing for sure; he was definitely enjoying the freak show. It was that gorgeous smirk of approval which gave me the confidence to brace my next question. "So...do you wanna watch me hit some poses"? "Sure", an excitable and keen Transformer replied, not really seeming as if he knew what he was agreeing to, but apparently eager to see what a shredded muscle freak could do with his body. It was ironic. I'd felt in such awe of this still ridiculously good looking and impressively muscular man prior to my transformation. A man so sickeningly handsome that I felt nervous just being in his presence. And now, he was in awe of me, and my physical appearance. And to an exceptionally bigger degree than I had been to him. There was no doubt about it. The power had shifted tremendously. "OK let's give you...a front double bicep", I confidently said to The Transformer. Having spent the past thirty years as a regular sized man, I'd never actually hit any poses before, but I'd watched enough muscle videos of huge, ripped bodybuilders to at least have a stab at doing so. Staring once again at my new freakish body in the mirror, I bought both of my thick, muscular arms up either side of my head. With my elbows in line with my absurdly broad shoulders, I clenched both of my fists, and before I knew it, I had, albeit rather clumsily transitioned into a front double bicep. "HOLY SHIT", I exclaimed as I caught my reflection. Two huge, round balls of glistening, granite hard bicep muscle were exploding to an insane degree. I turned my head to the right to marvel at the mound of squeezed muscle erupting before my face, before turning to the left to marvel at the other. "Look at the fucking SIZE of these", I exclaimed to The Transformer. "They're MASSIVE mate", came his response. "Fuck yeah", I exclaimed, in my cockiest tone yet. I couldn't stop staring at the huge peaked muscle before me. Still clenching my fists, I continued to squeeze, and squeeze. Flexing the fuck out of my huge guns, some kind of animal instinct seemed to take over me and I suddenly let out a deep, fairly quiet growl. "Grrrrrrr"! I looked at The Transformer who was staring at my huge biceps with immense admiration. He was completely and utterly in awe. I couldn't help myself. I had to release another animalistic growl. Only this one came out a lot louder than the previous. "GRRRRRRR"! The Transformer released a half-laugh, half-astounded, "Fuck YEAH!", which seemed to spur my new found arrogance on even more. I squeezed my biceps harder still, and giving The Transformer an intense, almost aggressive stare, I released my loudest growl yet. "ARGGGHHH"! "Fuck", he replied with a short chuckle, still half amused at my display of arrogant, hyper macho flexing. As I finally relaxed from the pose, I dropped the attitude and released an amused chuckle along with my lucky spectator, who seemed to be enjoying the experience almost as much as I was. "How does it feel mate?", The Transformer asked. "To be a shredded bodybuilder, or to flex"? "Both!", he replied. Like I'm gonna cum in my posers at any given second! "Fucking AWESOME mate!", I replied. "Fancy another"? "Hell yeah", he eagerly responded. "Hmmmm. How about...a front lat spread". Looking down to see the beautiful image of my protruding six pack abs, inhuman looking quads, and shiny pink coloured bulge looking up at me, I released a quiet, "Fuck yeah", to myself. Then, grabbing and tucking both of my thumbs under the thin straps of my trunks, I bought my huge chest up and, pulling the pink coloured straps up as far as they'd go, I transitioned into a front lat spread. "HUP!", I cried out as my pecs jumped up and almost touched my chin. I stared at my reflection to see my gloriously chiselled physique in this incredibly powerful pose. My thick mutated quads were flaring to a laughable degree, my pecs kept twitching as if trying to escape my torso, and tucked under each of my armpits, two, thick lats were sticking out like wings about to take flight. "Get a load of THAT mate", I cheekily exclaimed to The Transformer. "Fucking insane!", came his reply. "Your legs look BONKERS"! "I KNOW!", I exclaimed. Relaxing from the pose and letting the straps of my posers fall back into place, I added, "These posing trunks don't look too silly on me now do they"? The Transformer blushed and released a sheepish smirk. "Time to work these abs I think"! And with this statement, I threw both of my arms around the back of my head, and crunched down HARD onto my stomach, with a big, loud, grizzly "EEUURGHHH!", in what was, undoubtedly, the most satisfying and pleasurable pose yet. Admiring the big blocks of crunched ab muscle popping protruding through the cling wrap thin skin of my stomach in the mirror, while I gritted my teeth, and scrunched up my face in effort, I felt like I'd transcended to a new plane of pleasure. Being huge and ripped and flexing for an adoring audience (albeit an audience of one) was like a high I hadn't ever come close to experiencing before. If it felt this good to pose for one person, how must it feel for a bodybuilder to be on stage, with a group of other, equally freaky muscle men and pose for a packed auditorium? I wondered if there were any local bodybuilding competitions happening in the next twenty-four houses. Maybe Stephen Dresner could turn up and put in a surprise guest posing appearance? "PHOOOOO"! I let out a cocky exhaling sound as I crunched down once more on my otherworldly midsection. Looking down, I bought my left foot forward slowly, and began to twist and tense, showing off the freak-like rips and crazy detail for my audience. Giving the same treatment to the right quad, I glanced at The Transformer. He was completely transfixed. Showing off my freakish mass and development, my abs and posing trunk covered bulge pointing in his direction, I couldn't help but shoot him a mischievous, bordering on flirtatious grin. The mystery of The Transformer’s sexuality was occupying my thoughts once again. Was The Transformer turned on by my huge, shredded muscle? Was he even gay? Did he even necessarily have to be in order to feel aroused by my excessively muscular body? I had no idea. But the way he was staring at my quads, the way he blushed when I started smiling at him, and the fact that the general atmosphere had suddenly seemed to turn a little sexual, I was sure there was a chance he was just a little bit aroused by my hyper macho display of muscle posing. Relaxing from the pose, and slightly out of breathe, I decided to be up front and satisfy my sudden curiosity of the obscenely handsome fitness magazine cover gracing man before me. "Can I ask you a question?", I cautiously said. "Sure"! "Tell me if it’s too personal, but...are you into blokes"? An amused and mischievous smile emerged on this perfect face. "Well I'm sitting here with a massive hard on right now, so...does that answer your question"? "Fuck", I exclaimed with a chuckle. "Well I wasn't expecting THAT for an answer"! I couldn't stop grinning at his cheekiness and confidence, while also feeling myself blush a little. For the first time since I'd transformed, it felt like he was the confident, cock sure guy of the two of us again. "It's the pink posers isn't it?", I jokingly asked. The Transformer laughed. "Actually I don't know what it is. I mean...I didn't feel like this when you showed me the magazine. I was shocked. And a little freaked out. I mean, those men. They're pretty extreme. But seeing you in the flesh. Well...like this. I mean...your body. You’re HUGE. I don't know why, but from the second you transformed, I just got hard. Like straight away. And when you started flexing, and making those noises. FUCK! That just turned me on even more". I stood listening to this utterly adorable and completely awesome confession with a huge smile on my face. This absurdly good looking guy with a genuinely impressive and muscular physique was actually turned on by me. OK, it wasn't technically me. He was turned on by the body I was currently inhabiting. And all I had to do was stand in front of him, and flex. And the more I flexed, the more turned on he would be. It was then that I had a brilliant flash of inspiration. He'd asked me about my superpower before but I hadn't revealed it. Could I? Should I? He'd wanted to know after all. Maybe it was time to reveal my power to The Transformer.
  25. hotmuscle101

    Blue Pill Part 16

    Blue Pill Part 16 James was in a state of shock as he looked down at the muscle bound man at the end of his dick. He couldn’t believe that just moments ago he was fucking his supple, voluptuous wife. “Sarah? Is that still you? Are you ok?” James asked with a worried look on his face. “Mmmmm I’ve never felt better baby.” The voice that rumbled from the throat of his used to be wife, sounded nothing like her former self. It was deep and rugged. It made his dick pulse inside his wife. James was taken out of his train of thought as he heard a deep moaning coming from beneath him. He looked down to see that Sarah had reached up and began pinching one of her tender swollen nipples. Milk began flowing freely from the nipple as her other hand stroked her newly formed 7 inch dick. “My god James! If I knew that being a man would feel this good, I would have had you do this to me a long time ago.” James could see the lust in Sarah’s eyes as she started stroking her pre-cum slicked dick faster. James’s dick pulsed harder in Sarah’s ass at the sight of her tweaking her nip as she stroked her dick. He knew he needed to pull out before she got any bigger. He needed to think of a way to reverse the effect and make his wife a woman again. James began to slowly back his dick out of his wife until the head popped out of her ass. James couldn’t believe how much his dick had grown. It looked like it was almost a foot long now. Had to be close to 8 inches thick. It was covered in veins and his cock head was huge. That was nothing compared to his bull balls. They hung low in his sack almost the size of baseballs. James felt relief as his dick head popped out. He thought for sure that he was going to burst. Before James knew what was happening, Sarah had wrapped her newly muscular legs behind his back and pulled him in closer to her, driving his enraged cock head back into her waiting hole. Sarah and James both let out a moan in unison as Sarah drove her husband’s dick further into her ass. James became panicked as he knew what cumming inside his wife would do. He tried pulling out against his wife’s legs, but she had become quite strong from all of his cum. James knew he was stronger though, but for how much longer. James willed his muscles to push harder as his dick began to pull back out. The whole time his bulbous cock head was rubbing against his wife’s prostate. Sarah let out another deep moan and her head fell back as she started firing cum everywhere out of her bucking 7 incher. The sight before him was almost too much for James, he was right on the edge of orgasm. He was almost out of Sarah when he felt to hands on his pillow like pecs. He then felt fingers grasp on to his super sensitive nips as it pushed him over the edge. “Yeah! Cum for me daddy. Fill me with your seed. Make me huge!” Sarah had an almost evil glint in her eye as she twisted James’s nipples. “You want your daddy’s dick that bad, then you’re going to take it all.” James, finally giving into his lust, slammed his dick back into Sarah, driving into her hole over and over again as he fired load after load into her ass. James watched as the body beneath him began to swell larger. Sarah’s traps rose higher as her neck got thicker. James watched as her arms bulged with more mass closing in on 19 inches. James could feel Sarah’s legs surge in size behind him as they slowly began crushing into his back. Sarah’s pecs ballooned even more as they filled with more muscle milk, almost making them look like breasts again. James started to become even more worried as he realized his wife was closing in on his size. James felt his wife’s ass get tighter around his dick as it grew with more muscle, pushing her up higher off the bench and taking his dick with it. While his wife was in a state of Euphoria from all the milk flooding into her pecs, he started backing up, pushing her legs back and pulling his dick out. He was finally to the very end, but his dick head was so large and her ass was so tight that it didn’t want to come out. He pulled with all of his might, until with a loud *POP* sound, his dick came out, releasing a torrent of his jizz along with it. Sarah began bucking her hips from the feeling of her husband’s massive cock head destroying her ring. Cum began flying from the tip of Sarah’s almost 9 inch dick as she moaned on the bench. James knew this was his chance. He needed to get away before his wife got any bigger. He quickly darted underneath Sarah’s thick legs and bolted for the gym entrance. James got to the front door and heard moans and what sounded like the banging of a head board form the top of the stairs. “No time to investigate, I’ve got to get to the lab and find a way to reverse this!” James snuck out of the house quietly. Leaving his hot muscular wife in his home gym and his son and that behemoth upstairs in his bedroom… Chris couldn’t get over the size of Derek. Chris straddled Derek’s torso as he slowly ran his hands along the ridges of his abdominals. Working his way up to his perky hard nipples that rested just under his bulbous rock hard pecs. His pecs were so full and thick that they jutted out almost 6 inches from his body. Chris stuck his finger in the gap between Derek’s pecs, feeling the curvature of his mountainous pecs. Chris continued his adventure of Derek’s body as his hands felt along the bowling balls of muscle Derek called his shoulders. Chris couldn’t believe how far they pushed out. His shoulders pushed so far out that he was twice as wide as Chris’s relatively athletic build. Chris traced the veins along his shoulders down to his biceps. Chris gasped when he saw just how big they had become. They were about the size of his head. They had to be closing in on 22 inches. They were truly massive. This only made Chris realize how bad he wanted Derek’s muscles all for himself. Chris knew that in order to get Derek to take the pills he was going to have to make him swallow them. “How am I going to get him to take these damn pills? He will never agree to give up his muscles.” Just like that Chris got an idea. Slowly getting off of Derek so as not to disturb him, Chris darted out of his room and into his fathers’ room across the hall. He noticed his father had left his closet light on. “Dad?! Are you still here?” Chris looked around the bedroom to see if he could see any signs of movement. He listened carefully as the house was dead quiet. Chris walked into his dad’s closet and reached onto the top shelf next to some old hiking gear as he pulled down a handful of rope. Chris walked quickly out of his father’s bedroom as his heart caught in his stomach. Down the stairs he could see his mom coming through the front door. It appears as if she had just gotten back from her jog. Chris ducked down, hoping she hadn’t seen him. “James honey, are you home?” Chris could hear his mom’s footsteps coming up the stairs. Chris didn’t believe in prayer much, but at that point he needed any kind of miracle he could get. As if it couldn’t have been better timed, a deep guttural moaning sound came from downstairs in the direction of their home gym. Chris breathing began to return to normal as he heard his mother’s footsteps retreat back down the stairs. “James is that you? CHRIST JAMES! What the hell happened to you?!?” Chris heard the gym door close and didn’t hear his father’s response. Curious, Chris began heading down the stairs to see what had startled his mother so much about his dad. “Fuck it, I will find out later. I have a body to grow.” With that said Chris turned around and headed back up the stairs with rope in hand. Chris returned to his bedroom and closed the door, making sure to not slam it, he didn’t want to awaken the muscle beast lying on his bed. Chris approached the bed and reached underneath one of Derrick’s thick hard calves. He wrapped the rope around it, making a noose and slowly tightening it. Chris lowered the first leg and repeated the process with the other. He tied the first rope holding Derek’s legs, firmly to the underside of the bed so he wouldn’t be able to kick. Next Chris used the same noose technique on Derek’s hands tightening the rope connecting them under the bed. Chris then tied a rope underneath the bed and wrapped it around underneath Derek’s bulging pecs so it would help stabilize his torso to the bed. To get the party started, Chris slapped Derek across the face. “Wakey, wakey asshole. Time to pay me back what you stole and then some.” Derek startled and sucked in air as he came to. The rope around his torso creaking as he drew in the sharp breath. Derek yanked at the line holding his hands tied together and realized he wasn’t strong enough to break free. “What the fuck do you want Chris?” Derek said in a panicked voice. “Oh you know exactly what I want, and you’re going to give it to me!” Chris reached down and began fondling Derek’s massive python. Even soft it was enough to fill both of Chris’s hands. Chris massaged Derek’s dick for a while and got no reaction. “I won’t give you what you want Chris. This is my body now. My muscles. My dick.” “You see Derek, that’s where you’re wrong. If you remember correctly, you were nothing when you came into my house and I was everything. I was a god. Now I’m going to take my god status back whether you are going to comply or not.” Chris jumped off the bed and walked into his bathroom. “How did he regain that size? He looks as big as I did before I stole his muscles.” Derek wondered out loud as Chris returned with a bottle in his hand. He set the bottle on his night stand next to Derek’s head. Chris then picked a bottle up off the floor, Derek instantly recognized the bottle. Chris popped the lid off, dropping a black pill into his hand. “Let’s see, I took this last time and lost everything. So now if you take it, I will gain everything back.” “Chris, you don’t have to do this! Look how good you look now! With a little time in the gym you could be back to your old size in no time.” Derek pleaded as Chris straddled Derek’s torso again. Chris leaned forward with the pill in his hand as he tried to push it into Derek’s mouth. “See that’s the thing Derek, why work hard for something when I can just have it now pain free?” With that Chris swung his fist into Derek’s nose, breaking it and causing blood to gush out. “AHHHH------mffffffmmm” Derek had begun to scream when Chris shaved his hand over Derek’s mouth. Derek barely felt the pills drop into his mouth as he began to run out of air. His nose was bleeding so much he couldn’t breathe through it. He had no choice but to swallow if he wanted to live. Derek swallowed the pills as tears began rolling down the side of his cheeks. Knowing he had sealed his fate and that Chris would soon take everything back. Chris reached his hand up and wiped away Derek’s tears. “Don’t worry Derek, from here on out I promise it will be quick and painless.” Derek jerked his head away from Chris’s hand. “Well, if it’s going to be like that. I was going to let you keep some of your size, but I think I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll drain you till you’re hotter than Stacy.” On cue Derek felt his massive dick begin to pulse to life. He could feel each heartbeat throb through the entire length as it thickened and elongated, quickly arching its way up Chris’s back. “How the fuck am I hard?!?” Chris got a slight grin to his face, “Well, back before I started taking my father’s experimental drugs, I took a lot of steroids and I had no clue what I was doing. Let’s just say a heavy dose of testosterone with no p.c.t. left my balls and libido empty. So I got a prescription to Cialis. So you shouldn’t have a ‘hard’ time with getting an erection tonight.” Chris began laughing at his own joke as he reached behind him and began stroking the throbbing monster of a dick that Derrick possessed. Derek threw his head back and began moaning as Chris continued stroking his dick. “I think I want my dick in that hat tight ass of yours so you can feel what it’s like to be dominated by a real man. I want you to feel me inside you as I grow to mythical proportions.” As Chris was saying this he reached for the bottle on the night stand, clearly labeled Cialis. “You’ve had your medicine, time for mine.” Chris popped a pill into his mouth and swallowed. Chris wiggled himself backwards along Derek’s dick, until he was almost past Derek’s knees when his dick finally sprang up and smacked into his thick pecs. Pre-cum flew everywhere when his dick smacked his chest, giving his chest a nice shiny sheen. Chris reached forward, leaning against Derek’s dick as he massaged the pre-cum into Derek’s pecs making them look like they had just been oiled. Chris slid his hands over to Derek’s massive orb like biceps and began groping them. As he did, Derek couldn’t help himself but give them a flex to see how big they were. He could only lift his arm so far until his restraints brought him back to reality. Chris let out a slight moan feeling the bicep push his hand apart. Although Chris hadn’t moved, Derek could feel Chris’s bulbous Dick head pushing against his ass cheeks. Derek’s dick throbbed at the thought of being penetrated by the high school quarterback. A huge glob of pre-cum oozed out of his dick head and into the valley of his pecs. Without missing a beat, Chris leaned in and sucked up all the pre from the cleft between Derek’s pecs. The sound of slurping coming from Chris made Derek mad at the thought that he almost wanted Chris to grow larger. Derek knew that was the Cialis talking, it was making him so horny it was hard to think straight. Derek didn’t have to wait much longer as he could feel Chris’s body weight slightly increasing on top of his own. He felt his own back slowly slide across the sheets, but only a little. What really made Derek pay notice was that Chris’s dick was sliding past his ass cheeks and pushing at his hole. Derek could feel pre leaking out of Chris’s dick, making his hole slick and ready to be entered. Derek moaned again as he could feel his heartbeat pulse through the length of his entire dick which was almost a ridiculous two feet in length. Chris wrapped his mouth over the head of Derek’s dick this time as he was rewarded with another glob of pre-cum. Again Derek could feel Chris’s weight increase just slightly and he felt his own slightly diminish, but the cherry on top was the fact that Chris’s dick pulsed at his ass hole as it pushed right in with a pop as the head of his dick began to pulse inside his ass. That was all it took for Derek, his breathing quickened as the ropes holding his torso creaked and whined as he forced his hips up off the bed. Chris felt it right as Derek’s cock head throbbed in his mouth Chris could feel Derek’s balls pull up tight in his scrotum as he began to unleash his torrent of cream into the back of Chris’s throat. Chris could feel Derek shrinking smaller as each pulse of cum shot down his throat, filling him with a warm energy that couldn’t be explained. Derek’s dick got easier to fit in his mouth as it shrank down to a more manageable 18 inches. Before he forgot, Chris grabbed another pill and quickly shoved it into Derek’s mouth. Derek, having accepted his fate, swallowed, not wanting to anger the growing beast on top of him. Derek instantly began to moan into Chris’s hand as he could feel Chris’s rigid cock unreel further inside his ass, pushing his ass hole wider as Chris’s already impressive eight incher grew into a thick veiny foot long schlong. “Fuck Yeah! This feels incredible!” Chris in a state of euphoric bliss, began bouncing his pecs as they filled with more muscle. Pushing his already swollen nipples further down his burgeoning meat pillows. Chris reached up and tweaked his nipples and Derek watched as Chris’s arms throbbed thicker and thicker, veins exploding all over the orb of muscle that was beginning to amass on his upper arm. Chris pulled down on his nipples as he felt his ass and legs inflate with more muscle. With his rock hard ass, Chris pushed his hips forward, driving his throbbing dick further into Derek’s ass. As if on cue Derek began moaning as Chris continued to push his dick in to Derek’s hungry hole. “Yeah! You like that you little bitch?” Chris asked with an evil smirk on his face. Even though Derek still had some size on Chris, it wouldn’t take long to even the playing field. Wanting to speed up the process, Chris buried his thick cock to the hilt and simultaneously dove onto Derek’s still hard and throbbing dick. “HOLY FUCK! FUCK ME!” Derek couldn’t hold back as he felt his second orgasm rush up the length of his dick. Chris, already there to collect his sweet bounty began guzzling down cum. Surprised at how much shot out this time, Chris pulled off to catch his breath, allowing cum to shoot up onto Derek’s pecs. Chris swallowed Derek’s cock head back into his mouth to catch the rest of the precious seed that Derek’s dick had to offer. Derek felt his back slide against the sheets as he grew smaller. His once pro IFBB body was slowly getting smaller until finally it stopped. He was now close to the size of an amateur bodybuilder. Derek’s once magnificent arms were now about 18 inches. Still impressive by any standard, but not as big as he liked. What pulled Derek out of his inventory of his own body was the fact that he could now see over his diminished pecs, and what he saw before him was amazing. Before Derek was a true Adonis, a god if you will. Chris had the body of a Greek god as he continued to swell larger. Chris was getting off on his own body as it glistened with sweat. His abs undulated as an 8th row began to form. The sweat ran down from his bulging traps over his boulder like pecs and then dripped off his nipple onto his turgid cock that was inflating inside Derek’s ass even more. Derek moaned as he watched Chris pull an arm up and flex. Derek watched as the peak went from 21 inches to 22 inches. “FUCK YEAH! LOOK AT THEM GROWING EVEN LARGER!!!” It was too much for Chris as he began shooting his load into Derek’s ass, filling it with his seed. Chris flexed his whole upper body in a most muscular. Derek could feel himself on the edge of another orgasm already. Sensing this, Chris grabbed another black pill and brought it up to Derek’s mouth. “Is that really necessary Chris? You’re already massive. Please let me keep what I have left!” Derek pleaded as tears began to build up in his eyes. Chris pushed the pill against Derek’s lips, but he refused to open. ***CRACK*** Chris back handed Derek across the face “MOTHER FUCKER DID I ASK YOU TO TAKE IT? I’M TELLING YOU TO TAKE IT, NOW OPEN YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH!!!” Chris’s neck bulged with veins as a new hunger took hold of him. Derek could see it in Chris’s eyes and now feared for his life. With tears streaming down his cheeks again, Derek opened his mouth and accepted the pill from Chris. Chris instantly began sucking Derek’s dick again. Harder and faster than ever before. Derek had to think of something and fast before it was too late. Derek began wiggling his arms and realized that his right arms restraint had become loose, but it wasn’t loose enough to get his arm free. With Derek’s dick in his mouth, Chris began fucking Derek’s ass hard and fast. Derek’s eye’s rolled back into his head as he felt his orgasm near, but did his best to hold it off so he could think up a plan of escape. Chris began getting impatient, so he reached his hand down and wrapped it around Derek’s scrotum. Testicles still the size of baseballs, Chris began to squeeze hard. Derek instantly began shooting his pent up load in a combination of pain and pleasure. Chris unknowingly began squeezing harder as Derek’s sperm caused a spike in his strength. Derek in serious pain now, reached his hand down and grabbed hold of Chris’s wrist to try and get him to let go. As Derek’s hand tugged on Chris’s wrist, they both realized at the same time that Derek’s hand was free. Chris, still sucking on Derek’s dick tried to grab for his free hand as Derek reached for the lamp on the bed side table. Derek grasped the lamp and swung it at Chris’s head causing it to shatter and blind Chris. “FUCKING FUCK!” Chris pulled off of Derek’s dick as he yelled in pain as the shattered glass momentarily blinded him. Chris reached his hands up to shield his eyes, when he did Derek reached up and punched Chris in the scrotum. Chris fell back in pain as one hand covered his eyes and the other grabbed onto his balls. As Chris fell back his gargantuan dick popped out of Derek’s ass along with all of the jizz that had built up inside from his ejaculations. As the last of his cum dribbled from his dick, Derek reached over and untied his other arm. Then he slid under the ropes, once tight around his torso, now clung loosely to him. Derek looked over at Chris who had fallen to the floor in his painful agony, as he hurriedly untied his ankles form the restraints. Derek was mesmerized as he watched Chris stand back up to his full height. He towered over the bed and the truly scary thing was, he was still growing from his last feeding. Derek was in awe as Chris’s dick throbbed even larger in front of him. Still unable to see, Chris began groping around trying to feel for the bed. Chris’s hand finally found the edge of the bed as his growth came to a halt. He had grown far beyond what Derek once possessed. Standing in front of Derek was a man that could win any professional bodybuilding show, no one could come close. His arms were at least 25 inches now as thick veins snaked their way down to forearms that were the size of Derek’s newly diminished arms. Chris’s pecs were so grotesquely massive that his nipples had all but disappeared from view beneath their hard veiny mass. His legs were a whole other story as they were bigger around than his waist. They had to be close to 40 inches. They were ripped and striated and they bulged as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other as he got closer to the bed. Not realizing how close Chris really was, Derek felt something brush against his leg. Derek was quickly jerked across the bed by an unbelievable force. “I’m GONNA KILL YOU, YOU LITTLE SHIT!!!” Chris grabbed Derek by the throat and pinned him to the bed. Derek could feel Chris’s grip grow tighter around his neck as his vision began to blur. Derek began flailing and as he did his hand caught something. It was a bottle of pills. He sent them flying off the bed and into the wall across the room. Chris turned towards the sound still unable to see, Derek took this opportunity as the last of his consciousness slowly faded, he swung his leg up with all his might and connected his shin right into Chris’s right testicle. Derek heard a pop sound as Chris fell down to his knees using both hands to grasp his damaged testicle. Derek gasped from breath, consciousness quickly returning as air filled his lungs again. He realized it hurt to breath, but Derek had no time to think about that at the moment. Right now Derek knew he needed to get the hell out of there. Derek jumped off the bed and ran for the door, but before he left he remembered the bottle of pills that hit the wall. Derek turned and quickly surveyed the room finding the open bottle with pills scattered across the carpet. Derek rushed to the bottle and began dropping pills back into the bottle. Satisfied he had got them all, Derek stood up just as Chris lunged in his direction. Derek dodged Chris as he ran head first into the wall, knocking him out cold. Derek sprinted out the door as he pulled on a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt he had found on the desk as he exited the room. Derek shoved the bottle of pills in his pocket and took off down the stairs and out the door as he heard an unfamiliar manly voice from somewhere in the house. “Christopher honey is that you?”
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Guidelines, Terms of Use, & Privacy Policy.
We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue..