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This is the first narrative fiction I've written in a long time. It's not completely finished, though. I'll continue the story until it is complete so make sure to follow me and this story. I hope you enjoy this. Leave a comment if you have any suggestions on what you'd like to see Bruce do. --Ripped Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 WARNING! Contains snuff. Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Epilogue Black Cat Chapter 1 The Wife lays on the bed on her side, passed out. Her auburn hair covers her sweaty, cummy face, neck and tits. Cum leaks out of her pussy and ass onto the soaked hotel sheets. Sunlight from the window lands on her C-cup breasts, her nipples still hard and extended from my manipulations. Those beautiful breasts giggle, the bed creeks and the headboard hits the wall with each of my thrusts. “Oh, God! Fuuuuck!” the husband moans under me. I’ve pinned his head to the bed with my left hand. My right hand grips and lifts his pelvis keeping his ass inline with my cock. For the last twenty minutes I’ve been pulling all the way out, waiting for his sphincter to close, then, with a low-pitch growl and ramming in deep. “You like that, boy? hmmmggggggrrrrrr. Like getting fucked slow and hard?” The husband moans that sounds like, “yes, Daddy”, as his fists tightly clutch the sheets. I roll my head back and inhale deeply, relishing the musky scent of sex. I spike his ass with a quarter of my rod. “AAAAHHHHHHGGOOOOOODD!” the pitiful excuse for a male wails. “GRRRR! I don’t give a FUCK what you like, cunt,” I growl. Enough of treading lightly with this virgin ass. I grab his shoulders with both hands and use my abs for countless short hard strokes, smashing into his prostate with every fuck. The bed frame crashes against that wall with a loud BAM, BAM, BAM, BAM, BAMBAMBAMBAMBAM as I bore into him. I keep up the rapid-fire assault, grunting with each fuck, until he yells, “I’m cumming!” I wrap my left hand around his throat and lift him off the bed. I stand tall and press the back of his head into my chest. He utters a satisfying scream as he slides father down. His legs swing and bump my shins as I walk to the floor-to-ceiling mirror. By the time I reach the mirror he’s panting like a bitch in heat. I turn to face the mirror and look over the “man” impaled on my cock. Mid-twenties, crew-cut blond hair, handsome features. I guess you could say that he’s got a middleweight bodybuilder physique. A decent chest above his six pack. An above average limp dick swings off of him. He could probably place in a regional bodybuilding competition if he didn’t skip leg days. His eyes are squeezed tightly shut. “Open your eyes. Come on boy,” I thump his head with my free hand, “open.” When he doesn’t obey I forcefully flex my abs, driving my ramrod deeper into his gut. “Aaaarrrg!” his eyes snap open and looks at me in the mirror with fear, lust and fear. He begins to hyperventilate. “Hey, calm down, little man.” I slide my hand off of his throat putting him in a choke hold. I lightly squeeze his windpipe between my forearm and bicep. His hands immediately grab my arm and vainly tries to move it. I whisper into his ear, “Take slow deep breaths. That’s it. Good boy.” With his breathing slowing I find myself involuntarily slow fucking his tight ass and watching my hulking figure in the mirror. The husband’s head, his mouth gaping open, is held between a forearm thicker than his upper arm and a bicep bigger than his head. Thick veins under my paper-thin skin look like a metropolitan subway map. Above my bowling ball delts thick traps rise like mountains to meet my corded neck. The husband whimpers when I flex my free arm into a Herculean ball of power. “You like that, puny boy? Grrrr, yeah, I think we both know who’s superior.” I feel a pair of tits against my wide lats and a sopping wet pussy grinding on my massive rippling leg. “Fuck him, baby.” The Wife wraps her tiny hands around my torso. One hand slowly strokes my ten-pack, fingers following the perimeter of each thick cobblestone segment. Her other hand travels up to my shelf-like pecs to try to squeeze the rock-hard muscle. Giving that up, she begins to pinch and tweak a nipple. “Show him how to use that thing between his legs.” She’s kissing and licking my back. “He’s never satisfied me. You…oh god…you made me cum more than I’ve ever have. Show him how a real man fucks.” Never wanting to disappoint the ladies I break the bi pose and slap the husband’s glute. He yelps and calls out to whatever deity he thinks is listening for mercy. I seize a leg and bring it to his chest as I start to pound his ass balls deep. I roar. The husband screams in terror and submission. The Wife moans, “Make him your bitch like you made me your whore…Master” *** Good. Now I have your attention. With all the instant gratification, short news cycles and screaming 140 to 280 character dispatches from who-the fuck-cares you have to grab attention by the balls, squeeze and not let go. Even if the owner of said balls slaps you with an injunction. Which, never happens to me…usually. Hi, I’m Bruce. Bruce Banderole. Ripped let me hijack his account to tell my story. I didn’t used to be this way. The domineering alpha male, not the ball grabber. Well, maybe not that either. Anyway, I was just your typical, average office worker schmuck sitting in a nondescript cube surrounded by sappy inspirational posters from HR in the boring corporate world. To say I was the pinnacle of physical health would be laughable. Twenty-six years old at this time. Under the average height for a male, just under the definition of obese, nearsighted and balding. My idea of exercise was carrying a box of a dozen doughnuts to the office every Friday. The only thing in my life that brought a ray of sunshine into my gloom was my girlfriend, Val. Last week that would all start to change. On that Monday nothing could brighten my mood. I grabbed two different socks out of the sock drawer, my sandwich was moldy, the printer repeatedly jammed on duplication of a fifty page report and I had my review. See, there’s me after work in line at the bus stop waiting for the 5:10 to my house. Hunched shoulders, thinking about the day and mumbling, “How the fuck did I get a ‘adequate’ on the Reynolds account? I busted my ass for that fucker!” I look up to the guy behind me, “Tell me why a guy that looks like an avocado had sex with an older more disgusting avocado complained?” The old lady behind him stepped back aghast. The guy looked at me and said, “Maybe it’s your use of harsh language.” When I realized I left my umbrella at home, it started to rain. I sighed defeat to the universe as the bus rolled to a stop. The doors opened and I heard something in the alley. I ignored it and shuffled forward. After a few steps I heard it again. This time I think I heard a cat. I had a cat once. My sister wanted to name it Dog. A few more shuffling steps and I definitely heard a cat. I reached the bus door, looked up at the driver and said “Wait for me, I’ll be right back.” I think I heard the driver mumble, “Yeah right buddy” as I turned into the ally. “Here, kitty kitty kitty.” I heard a reply from the left ten feet down the alley. I called out again, followed the reply and found an average sized undernourished young adult black cat under a piece of cardboard. It looked up at me with pleading electric blue eyes. I knelt down to the cat, and slowly blinked, “Hey, there.” I extended a finger in front of its nose. “You don’t look too well.” The cat sniffed my finger, blinked and replied with a meow that almost sounded like, “Help?” I extended the finger to scratch the cat’s chin. I didn’t see a collar when the cat lifted its head for more scratches. “Oh, so you’re a stray huh? Well we can’t have you walking the streets can we?” As I gently lifted the cat it began to purr. I turned around with the cat cradled in my arms just in time to see the back of the bus disappear down the street. I sigh and mutter, “Fuck.” “Mew?” “It’s just been one of those days, cat. There’s a vet school a few blocks from here. How about we get you checked out and get something to eat?” “Purrrrmoowprrrr” “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” Two hours later I ordered an Uber and headed for home with a $200 vet bill, a box of stuff and a very groggy cat. When the Uber pulled up I saw my favorite driver, Debbie, in her beat up Hyundai Accent. “What the fuck ya got there, Bruce?” she yelled at me over the blaring death metal as I put the cat carrier and box in the back seat. I close the squeaky back door and yank on the front passenger door until it opens. Most people don’t like Debbie. It might be that she curses like a sailor or that she’d rather insult you than get a tip. I kinda liked her; the petite figure, the girl-next-door face, the long blond hair in pigtails just went so well with the spiked leather collar, ripped band t-shirt, short shorts and bowie knife strapped to her thigh. Think Harley Quinn without psychopathic homicidal boyfriend with a pasty complexion. At least I hoped so. “I found a stray cat and decided to adopt her,” I replied once sat down in the seat and turned down the screaming Norwegians. “The vet named her Brenna. Apparently that’s Gaelic for ‘black hair’.” Debbie lifted a single eyebrow when she glanced from the back seat to me, “You, a cat? What’s that fucking bitch Val gonna say?” I buckled up and replied, “Yeah, a cat. I’m secure enough in my manhood that I don’t need a hundred fifty pound slobbering dog that you have to get up at five o’clock in the morning to walk. Besides, everyone should have a little pussy.” She blushed and replied, “Uh-huh. You got food and a goddamn cat box yet?” I pointed my thumb at the box in the back, “Yeah. The vet gave me a box of stuff. Said it was a CCL Starter Kit.” We almost get into an accident when Debbie snorted and started laughing. “You mind not killing us and tell me what’s so funny?” She composed herself just enough to reply, “Shit! CCL stands for Crazy Cat Lady.” My eyes involuntary rolled heavenwards, “Laugh it up, Deb. One cat doth not a crazy make.” “Mrr, aarrr?” came from the back seat. “I didn’t ask you.” With a snicker she stated, “They say the fucking first step is talking to the them.” “And yet you talk to your crappy car.” “Hey, don’t insult Reggy! He’s very sensitive!” The car backfired. She started stroking the dashboard. She winked at me and said, “There, there, Reg. Don’t listen to that mean asshole. You still haven’t said how cocksucking bitch-friend’s going to react.” “A FUCKING CAT!” was the reply I got from Val to a text with pic of Brenna on my lap. When we got home I set everything up for Brenna. She had some water and cat food from her bowls in the kitchen and used her box in the bathroom. With her belly full she contently purred while I scratched and rubbed her chin, throat and belly. She wrapped her paws held my arm to make sure I didn’t stop. She especially wanted me to scratch under her new orange-red nylon collar. I try to think why the love of my life would say that as I scroll up the app and see all the pics she sent of her Pekingese, Alcaeus. The many, many pictures of Alcaeus dressed in a toga, birthday hat, sunglasses. In a sombrero for Cinco de Mayo. In a Santa beard and stocking cap for Christmas. The pics of Alcaeus with a hair bow on its head, in a Che Guevara t-shirt and beret, dressed as a Minion, lapping up a strawberry smoothie (from MY glass, mind you), wearing a Mario cap and, the worst, with cat ears. I typed out my reply with the thumb the little spoiled shit bit last week when I tried to get him away from my smoothie, “I found her in an ally downtown. I’m not going to walkaway from that. Come on over and meet her, babe.” A minute later the reply chat bubble started bubbling. Two minutes later I see, “Ugh fine cu soon.” “We’re going to have company, Brenna,” I told the purring ball of fur on my lap as I rubbed behind her ears. Then I noticed the pizza boxes on the coffee table and dirty socks on the sofa. I sighed and said, “Looks like I’ve got to clean this place up a bit…” “Myeah.” “…so you’re gonna have to…Wait a minute, did you just say ‘yeah’?” She just blinked those beautiful electric blue eyes and purred. “Ooookay then. Let me just set,” I lifted her up and settled her on the sofa, “you here while I straighten up the place.” The garbage was tossed and a load of laundry started when I hear the familiar sounds of Cadaver’s “Cannibalistic Dissection” outside, Val screaming, “You expect a TIP after THAT?!” and a creaky car door slam. I open my front door to Val in a tight blue mid-thigh dress, her auburn hair in a bun, oversized sunglasses and a floppy wide brimmed hat. Behind her I saw a Hyundai peeling rubber and the driver’s arm sticking out the window with a middle finger extended. “Ugh! That cabbie is the WORST! I don’t know why they don’t just fire her ass!” “She’s not a cabbie and they can’t.” I gave Val a kiss on the cheek as she blew past me. “You know she’s an independent contractor and the best driver in the city.” “WHATEVER. So,” she scanned the room, “where’s this cat?” When Val set her oversized purse down I see her “dog” squeaked and poked his head. “She’s on the sofa. Be gentle, she’s not used to…” When Val saw Brenna she charged towards her. Loudly, she said, “Oh, aren’t you just the cutest thing!” Brenna jumped to the back of the couch, yelled, “Moor? REEEOW!” and hissed, When Val started to reach for her she jumped down and hid under the couch. “Hey! That’s not how you act around a new pet, Valerie!” Alcaeus jumped out of the purse and started yapping at the couch. “Pfft, what do you know. It’s just a cat.” Brenna came out and sat in front of Alcaeus. Alcaeus continued to yap away as if he was a fearsome beast. Brenna, just yawned and cleaned her paw. “Yeah, well, she MY cat and I won’t have her becoming neurotic due to…” We both hear a cut off yip and look down to see Brenna’s paw pinning Alcaeus’s head to the floor. Her tail swishes and she gives a “humph” sound. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY DOG!” Val exclaimed. I suppressed a snicker and said pridefully, “I see there’s no chance of that.” Val reached down to pick up the dog Brenna sniffed her hand. “Get away!” She clutched the shivering dog to her breasts, “That cat is EVIL!” “No she’s not. This is all new to her. It’ll take time for her to adjust.” “Yeah, well…” Val’s phone sounded out a notification I haven’t heard before. Her face goes flush and her eyes widen when she looked at her phone. “Sorry, babe. Gotta go.” “You just got here?” I said, my hands outspread. “I know, but somethings come up…at work,” Val collected her purse, shoved the shivering mut in it and headed toward the door. “Can I call you an Uber?” “With HER again. I don’t think so. Besides, my ride is already outside. Bye!” And with that Val slammed the front door on her way out. I stood in the middle of the living room wondering what just happened when I felt Brenna wrapping herself around my legs. “Well, that could have gone better.” I said looking down at her. She blinked twice. “She’s really very nice, ya know.” “Mnoow,” was the only reply in the room. Did my cat just say, “No”?
Mike: The Workout by NerdJock Note: This is one of my very first stories... I decided to stop by the gym after finishing a quick run. I hadn't been there in a quite a while and I was in the mood for a little action, which I never had a problem finding when I went to a regular gym. You see, I'm not quite sure whether it's genetics or something else, but I have some very special physical abilities. While I'm shredded, I'm not that huge. My arms are 19" maybe 20" pumped, my chest is only 58"and my thighs are 29". What really gets me the stairs is my waist, which is a cut 28". Not to mention I have a killer 8-pack and about 4% body fat. You could see every muscle fiber in my body, but I'm getting a little off track. So I walk in and place my membership card on the desk. From what I could see the attendant is a pretty hot little stud. Good sized and well defined body. A good dusting of light hair on his arms and, I was happy to see, he left the hair on his chest trailing down and getting lost in his tank-top. Judging from the board shorts and the above average build, I'd say he's a surfer. I like surfers, great strength, stamina and coordination. Given that he works at a gym, probably into muscle too. That's even better. He finally looks up from reading his copy of Men's Workout and his jaw about hit the desk. I was right definitely into muscle. I'll make sure to give him a good show. Over his shoulder I see the television is tuned to the Olympic marathon and I couldn't help but chuckle. The guys thought they were so good, but the wouldn't stand much of a chance against me, and that's not just ego talking. As I mentioned, I just finished a quick run, at least for me. For other people it'd be impossible. My usual warm up run takes me about 30 minutes and covers about 30 miles. On top of that, I strap weights onto my ankles, wrists and chest. These aren't little weights either. Each ankle has 65 lbs, each wrist another 45 lbs, and my chest gets 120 lbs. Yup a total of 340 lbs, not bad, eh? That and still a one-minute mile, I'd like to see any of those Olympic guys do that. Anyway, my laughing brought the cute little stud back to his senses. He blushed a little and scanned my ID card, seeing that I had a lifetime membership. I realized that he might have thought I was laughing at him so I decided to put his mind at ease, "You must be new here, my name's Mike," as I extended my hand. As he watched the muscle in my flex and writhe with that simple movement, "Martin. Yeah I just started here a few weeks ago. Never seen you around; I'm sure I'd remember." "Yeah I travel a lot and just got back in town," I lied. "I was just watching the Olympics. Kind of funny don't you think?" He looked at me a little funny and said, "Yeah...I guess." No problem, he'll realize why later. I decided that he was going to be my target for the day. "We'll I'd better get started," as I walked away I caught Martin starting at my back and probably my ass; his eyes kind of glazed over. Damn I love having that effect on people. No ego there, right? Well I'd only run about 20 miles and hadn't really broken a sweat and I noticed that the gym had gotten a few of those elliptical trainers that simulate running. Might as well given them a try. I wasn't sure the machine could support my 230 plus the extra 340 I was carrying so I stopped off by the locker room to drop it off before getting on the machine. I entered my current weight and selected the most difficult setting. I started my workout and couldn't help but laugh again. I didn't notice any resistance what so ever. I watched the speed indicator go past 100, 120 RPMs, then 150 RPMs and this was still way to easy. Oh well, I'll just keep it here for a while. I kept glancing at the distance and time indicator. 10 minutes and 20 miles later I was getting bored, I was just about to get off, when I noticed Martin gawking at me again. Thinking about it from his point- of-view, I can see why. My body is probably a blur of movement though it feels perfectly natural to me. Maybe I shouldn't be showing off this way; besides I'm getting bored. I slowed down and glanced at the workout summary. Total distance 27 miles, time 12 minutes, max RPMs 167, and max heart rate a cool 65 bpm. Not to bad, another good warm-up. I got off the machine, still not having broken a real sweat yet, and walked back over to Martin. "Shit man, that was amazing." He walked over and glanced at the screen and about fell over. "Holy fuck! That's fuckin' incredible. You're not even breathing. How'd you do that?" "It's not very challenging actually. Not a bad machine, just not hard enough," I said rather nonchalantly. I looked around the weight area not another soul to be found. Perfect. How should I really impress my little friend today? I flexed each body part slowly, pretending to stretch, and checked Martin's reaction to each one. When I hit my tri's his eyes got wide. I flexed my biceps and they got even wider. Just like I thought an arm man. Okay Martin, my boy, arms it is. I went over to the Preacher Curl machine. I never really liked these, plus there's only 180 pounds on the stack. Not much work there, so I grabbed a straight bar and went to the preacher bench. I grabbed a couple of 45s on put one on each side; this'll grab him. "Hey Martin, mind spotting me for a sec." He walked over trying to look like he wasn't in a hurry. When he got there he asked, "So how many you going for?" "I don't know 15 or 20, this is just a warm up." "You're kidding right? This is 115 pounds." "Trust me," I said as I flashed an over-confident smile and sat down on the bench. I reached over and grabbed the bar easily lifting it off the supports. I started doing my set in slow strict form. Martin stood there watching my bicep contract and force the veins into even greater relief as the blood rushed into my arm. After 20 reps I stopped and set the weight back in it's support. "Fuck dude, I've seen guys lift weight like that before, but you make it seem so easy. After 20 reps you're not even breathing. How the hell do you do that?" "I'll tell you in a minute. It's time for my next set." I got up and grabbed another pair of 45s and slapped them on the each side. Martin's eyes went wide again. "Now way man. No one can do that." "We'll see." I put on a cocky smile as I reached over the bench again. This time I only grabbed the bar with my left hand. "No way, dude. No way," Martin said shaking his head. I just looked over at him still smiling and flexed my left bicep. The bar lifted off the support just as smoothly as the first time. Martin's jaw dropped. I did 25 reps in perfect strict form before setting the bar back down and switching hands. I did another 25 perfect reps with my right arm before setting the bar down. "That's amazing. You just curled more then I fuckin' weight with a single arm! I stood up and hit a double bicep pose. Each muscle fiber is clearly visible and pulsing with strength and I still haven't really done anything yet. I reached over and squeezed my right bi. Harder then steal. Martin licked his lips and flexed his fingers for a bit. "Go ahead and give them a feel. Tell me what you think." He just looked at me. I nodded as he slowly reached over and feel my arm. He squeezed lightly and then with growing force, though nothing to bother me. I've broken a vice on these arms, but that's another story. I looked down and noticed a bulge growing in Martin's board shorts. "So what do you think?" "Fucking incredible. It's so hard. It's like feeling a warm rock. You're still not even breathing, was that hard? "That, my friend, was nothing. Why don't you lock the door and I'll really show you something." He ran to the front as fast as he could and I knew I had him. He was back in less then 30 seconds. I walked over and grabbed another set of plates and asked Martin to bring two more. I moved the weight from the smaller bar to a full size one since I didn't know if it could support this weight. Four 45 pound plates on each side, plus the bar, a total of 405 pounds. Still not quite my max, but it'll knock Martin's socks and probably his cock off, judging from the growing bulge in his shorts. Not a bad package either, but back to business. Again I reached over and grabbed the bar with my left hand. I took a breath and cleanly lifted the bar off the support. 10 reps, 20, 25, but I didn't stop there, 30, 35, 40. After 45 Martin started counting them off. "46, 47, 48, Holy Shit, 49, 50!" I set the bar down, changed hands and started again. "...48, 49, 50!" I returned the bar to it's support. "Amazing. Fuckin' Amazing, dude. You must be the strongest man alive," He reached over and rubbed my biceps again. "Damn. It's so hard and it fells like you have a nuclear rector in there." "Maybe I do, " I smiled at him as I reached down and cupped his growing erection. "You're not so soft yourself. I guess you like what you've seen so far, eh?" "Oh yeah. Absolutely incredible. I still can't believe it." "That? Well that wasn't to bad. Still a little to light though." I reached around his legs and back, scooped him into my arms, and started to curl him. "Shi.." I interrupted him, "You're not very heavy yourself, what about 195?" "What? Yeah, how'd you know?" "I know my weights pretty well. Go ahead feel them up and squeeze as hard as you want. I don't mind at all," I said as I continued effortlessly curling this stud's body. Martin reached over and grabbed my right peak and squeezed with all his might. It felt like a drop of rain. I never have found a man strong enough to do much more then that. He stopped squeezing and I put him down after about 60 reps. He started rubbing his forearm. "It's so hard. I didn't even make a dent in it and my hands are pretty strong." "You don't say. Here grab more forearm, and tell me if you like this." I grabbed a 2 and half pound weight and held it in my palm as Marty grabbed my arm. Then I slowly closed my hard, watching the "hard" iron get crushed by my powerful fingers. To me it was as soft as wet clay. After I closed my hand I rolled the weight in my hand until all that was left was a small ball of iron. I opened my hand and Marty let go. His breathing was a bit labored. When I looked at his basket I knew why a wet spot had formed on his shorts. He shot his load. "Ahh Marty, that was supposed to be mine." I reached around his waist, just above the belt line and lifted him high into the air. His feet were dangling around my waist a good three feet off the ground. He put his arms on my head to steady himself. I pulled his shorts off careful not to rip them, and saw the thick cream on his still throbbing cock. "Now look at this mess," I said as I inhaled his hard cock and cleaned all the cum off it, but I didn't stop there. I moved his body away from mine, pulling his cock from my mouth. "You got any more for me?" I swallowed his cock again and started flexing my arm. Using the motion to push his cock in and out of my mouth. I applied a little pressure with my tongue and started sucking. It didn't take long before I was rewarded with another blast of his cream. I still kept going and got another couple of blasts before he was done. I pulled him out and set him back on the floor. "Holy shit! That was the best sex I've ever had. No one has ever made me feel that way or cum more then once so quickly!" "Hey, my little man, that's just my first exercise. I'm not done with my workout yet." I smiled with my cocky grin. "Oh shit yeah." His eyes glossed over and he smiled back.
Re-posted per request, this is from my old All Male Muscle Archives site. -- NerdJock Do not read this story if you are under 18 years of age or if you are offended by explicit language involving gay men. Interview with a Muscle Studby M. Yoder He entered the room with a confidence only held by the biggest of bodybuilders. He's 35, 5'10" and 350lbs of muscle, power and raw sexual energy. His hair is brown, curly and falls over his massive shoulders. His eyes are a piercing blue - eyes that look through you and understand your innermost needs - the need to worship his mass, his muscle and his strength. He has a fumanchu mustache which frames his perfect lips. His cheeks are unshaven and covered with dark stubble, giving him an air of sexiness. He wears his shirt open almost to his navel exposing his hairy pecs which he is constantly tensing to impress anyone who notices. His slacks are tight showing his mammoth dick soft and to the side. When he decided to meet with me, to tell me about his exploits, it was with the agreement that he would do all the talking. I agreed and this is the transcript. "I started lifting when I was 15. My brother bought a Weider set, and only used it for a few weeks. He gave them to me and I the minute I noticed the growth, I was hooked. I saw my skinny 12 inch arms start to bulge out. My chest started to expand and soon I could get a pretty good flex if I tried hard. The girls at school noticed the change, too. That really got me going. After school they'd stand around in the yard and ask me to flex for them. It was freaky. I realized that the bigger I got the more they wanted me. And I wanted to get bigger. I could see the changes every time I looked in the mirror and it turned me on. Within a year my arms were up to 15 inches and a peak had formed. I used to get naked and stand in front of the mirror pretending I was Arnold Schwarzenegger - only I knew I was going to be a lot bigger than him. I was determined to be the biggest fucking bodybuilder in the world! On the weekends, I'd work out for hours, rarely going out and obsessed with getting HUGE! I'd pump my guns and measure them. Sixteen years old and I already had 15inch arms. I knew there was no limit to the size I could attain. I'll admit, when I'd pose in front of the mirror, I'd get a fucking hardon - 16 and my dick was like iron, and fucking 10"! I was as turned on by my muscle as the girls at school. By 17, I had grown so big, I had to buy large size clothes. My neck was 19 inches and my arms were almost 19". I'd go to school and the girls would flock to me. I had so many chicks after me that I hardly had time to keep up. They'd watch me flexing and want to feel my muscles. I'd take my shirt off to give them a treat. They'd run their hands over my pecs and just to surprize them I'd start flexing them. They'd shriek with delight at that and then I'd raise my big arms in a double biceps, or spread my lats like fucking wings. I took a lot of them home, and screwed them good. That's another thing they liked. I had a huge eleven incher that stayed rock hard for hours, always loved screwing their tight pussies and showing them what a real man feels like. After I left high school, I really started getting into growing. At 18, I entered a local contest and took 2nd in my weight class. I laugh about it now. I was a puny little shit, with 19" arms and a 45" chest. The more I worked out the bigger I wanted to be. I was a member at the local Gold's Gym and used to freak the guys out. I'd be in there at 9am and not leave till 6pm working every muscle harder and harder. I took tips from power lifters and found it easy to bench 400, 500lbs. Soon my arms were so fucking big I had to get Xtra large shirts and I pretty much wore sweat pants all the time. Chicks liked that - it showed off my huge dick and I'd get hard working out, which really turned them on. A couple times I'd take 2 or 3 of them back to my apartment and fuck them all night. I have incredible staying power, especially when I have a room full of admirers. Me flexing and posing while they fingered their cunts, till I was rock hard from their worship and then one by one I'd fuck their brains out till they begged me to stop. None of this ever kept me from my goal of being the biggest fucking muscle monster in the world. I worked out all the time, getting so freaky I scared myself sometimes when I saw how big I was getting. My first bi experience was when I was 23, with this older couple I met in a local bar. He came up and told me his wife really wanted to fuck me. I thought, 'great. I'll fuck this bitch while her husband watches. A real fucking man screwing the ass off his wife.' We went back to their place and I stripped for her. She played with her pussy while I posed for her. The more I flexed the more she groaned. "How big are your arms?" she'd ask. "Maybe you should measure them," I smiled. She grabbed a tape measure and put it around my arm. She just about fainted when she read, "21 inches!" I picked her up in one arm and sat her down on my throbbing hard dick. Her husband watched, and started jerking himself off. I was jerking her off on my dick when I felt a hot tongue start probing my asshole. At first I told the guy to back off. He said "relax, guy." and I started to get into it. It felt great - fucking this hot cunt and feeling this hot tongue in my asshole. Fuck they both worshipped me! I pulled her off my dick and hit a few more poses. The husband started licking my arms and chest, pumping my big cock while I posed. She was licking my hairy calves and thighs and I was so fucking hot! She said, "fuck him like you fucked me". I said, "Can he take a REAL MAN up his ass?" He nodded and pulled out a condom, placing it on my dick with his mouth. Fuck, I was hot! I picked him up like a rag doll and sat him down on my rock hard dick. I pumped his wimpy little body up and down on my dick, and I tell you - there's nothing like a man's hot ass wrapped around my pole. 'YOU LIKE THIS MAN'S POLE IN YOUR PUSSY, HUH?!' I'd ask, and he'd nod while his mouth was planted on my biceps. 'YOU FUCKING NEED THIS BIG MUSCLE COCK, HUH?!' I shot the hottest load into him, man - I couldn't believe it. We did that all night long - They worshipping my body and me their own personal fuck stud. I'd fuck her then him, I'd line them up and fuck them both. By the time I was 25, I weighed about 280lbs, my arms were about 25" and I was the freakiest looking man at the gym. I entered a few contests and won with little effort. It was then that I realized I'd stop with the contest thing and just focus on getting more and more massive and ripped. I knew I would be so big that contests would be pointless. And I hated shaving, man. I liked the hair on my body. It turned me on having some hot chick or some guy run their fingers through it while I flexed for them. I got into performing strength feats for my sex partners - I'd tear a phone book in half then grab the halves and tear them in half! I'd wrap steel bars around my fucking huge neck. I'd pump my arms for a hour solid, curling with 200lbs and have the chick measure them. Once I actually pumped up to 29"! I fucking loved it, man! And my partners loved it too. The bigger and freakier I got the hotter the sex was. I'd sit back on the couch and have some chick fucking blow me, or ridemy 11" monster muscle till I shot a load on the ceiling!I'd stand up and start taunting them - flexing my arms and pecs saying stuff like, "YOU WANT THIS FUCKING STUD MUSCLE, DON'T YOU? YOU NEED A REAL FUCKING MAN TO DO YOU RIGHT, BABY!" Then I'd pick them up in one hand and carry them into the bedroom, have them oil me and put on a personal pose down - my eleven inch pole rock hard with the worshipping I was getting." At this point he unbuttons his shirt and casually tosses it aside. He stands up and crosses to a mirror and begins to talk to himself, or an imagined partner. He flexes as he talks. "Big fucking stud. You need this big stud, don't you? Look at this fucking bicep! Lick it, boy! Lick these huge fucking pig pecs, boy! YEAH! You like this fucking huge freaky body, DON'T YOU?!" He rubs the growing erection, straining his pants and returns to his seat. "Everybody wants me. I know it. And if they're into my muscle I'll do them good. Now, at 35 I think my arms must be about 29" no pump and my chest is about 65". I pumped my cock up to 13" and rock hard! I can't wear anything but XXX large clothes, and I fucking love it. Look at me! You ever seen anything this fuking freaky. LOOK AT THIS FUCKING MASS, MAN! I'm so fucking incredible! Flexed all day, all night - I don't give a shit!. And staying power! I know this guy, Chuck. He's pretty puny - only 250lbs - his arms are about 21". He said he could fuck a dozen chicks all night and never lose his hardon. I told him a dozen was nothing, and why just chicks? I told him I'd fuck easy 20 chicks and a handful of fags standing up and doing arm curls at the same time, for a night and a morning. He wanted to try me on that, so we went out and found ourselves a harem. He had his 20 chicks and I found the same number chicks and a dozen guys from the local bar. It's so fucking easy picking up anyone when you look like me. I just walked over and said, 'you wanna get done like you've never been done before?' Then I'd flash a pec and start getting hard for them and they'd follow me anywhere. That night at 11pm, we were at Chuck's place - he's got a huge split level living room. First Chuck stripped and the crowd loved it. He stood there buck naked and started posing - most muscular, abs, lat spread, double biceps. Some of his chicks were crawling over him, licking his muscle. The thought of what I was going to be doing started getting me hard and I said, 'Move over wussy boy and let a REAL FUCKING FREAK get started! I unbuttoned my shirt and opened it slowly, showing off my hairy pecs and ripped abs. People went quiet, as I stripped the shirt off andstood there relaxed, letting my size and mass overwhelm them. I rolled my pecs a few times and could see my men getting hard in their pants and my women getting wet. I raised my guns in a double biceps pose and pushed a freaky peak up on my massive veined arms! They fucking loved it! Then I slowly undid my pants and pulled them down. I wanted everyone to see this real man's dick properly unveiled. As the pants came down, some of my women came closer, wanting to touch it. But I wouldn't let them. I just stood there naked and smiled as I got my huge 13" pole hard without touching it! Even Chuck was impressed. His cock started throbbing as he realized he was in the presence of a fucking god! Then we started in. I grabbed a couple of 200lbs dumbells and started curling while the first chick straddled my prick. My cock was rock hard, while I fucked woman after woman, pulsing cunts clamped on my man's dick. Chuck was busy trying to keep up, but couldn't. I'll give him credit - he's never taken on a god before. After a couple of hours his arms tired with the weights and he started losinghis hardon. Not me. I fucked men, women and kept pumping those weights. Chicks and guys all licking my freaky huge biceps, veins popping and my huge dick plunging into their tights holes. It was 11am before we quit. I'd been pumping my arms for 12 straight hours, and my hairy nuts were so tight it felt like I was going to shoot a gallon of cum! I told Chuck to get his hot ass over and let me fuck him. He didn't want to at first, but then the thought that he'd be fucked my such a monster was enough to send him over. I pounded his bubble butt with my 13 inches and his puny 9 inch cock came almost immediately. Then I pulled him off me and stood there, among all these exhausted people lying on the floor. "YOU WANT MY CUM?!" I shouted. "TELL ME WHO'S THE BIGGEST FUCKING MUSCLE STUD IN THE FUCKING WORLD!" "You!" They all shouted back. "Spray us with your cum!" I throbbed my red hot cock a few times, flexed my arms, pumped to an unbelievable 32" and shot a load that sprayed over all of them. Then to end it, I had 20 of them pile on the couch. I went behind and easily lifted about 1000lbs of couch and bodies over my head, doing a few presses for one final pump and a night they'd never forget." He put his shirt on, flexing his hairy massive pecs as he did. When he went to leave he told me he'd be back. He had more stories to tell and needed to tell them. ------------------------------------------ Interview Twoby TCCowboyAnother story from this afternoon at my computer. Standard Disclaimer: If you find sex between men offensive, turn back now! After our first interview, I had been wondering how soon he'd return with more tales of his muscle and strength. His need to be worshipped by strangers seemed unquenchable. Weeks passed, and I thought of him often. After a time, I began to think he wouldn't return, though we'd parted company amiably following our first session. Weeks turned into months and I'd all but given up, when one day, sure enough, he phoned for an appointment. He requested the interview on the same condition as before - that only he do the talking. On his arrival, I was astonished to see an even more massive version of the incredible man I'd interviewed previously. At 5'10" he must have grown to nearly 400 pounds, incredibly developed! He still had the same beautifully handsome, exotic looks - the bright blue eyes, the brown curly hair, thick bushy mustache and the deep, dark tan. But, my god! What he hadn't done to make his body grow even more devastatingly huge than before! A totally muscle-bound behemoth! He strutted into the office, black slacks stretched tight over gargantuan thighs and butt, with a muscleman's swagger that no doubt caused slack-jawed stares everywhere he went. His billowing shirt, as before, was unbuttoned down to just below his pecs, showing the deeply-defined crevice between each of his thick pecs, all of it covered with dark brown fur. His shoulders were incredibly thick and wide, and his arms even covered by the shirt rippled with mass as he walked. He settled into the sofa, spreading his legs wide, thick cock to one side, and started talking. 'After that last party at Chuck's place, man, I felt totally unstoppable! There isn't anybody who doesn't want me. Every muscle freak around wants to get off on this body. I spent all the next week pumping iron at the gym like a wild man, and I felt stronger than ever. Hell, all the guys and chicks at the gym can't believe my poundages and my endurance. One night, after working out all day - I felt great and beat almost every one of my personal best lifts - I walked past these two couples having dinner at a sidewalk cafe. I was wearing a t-shirt, so I flexed one arm for them and showed some big hot dick through my sweats. 'Want to see this huge muscle in action?" I said, and they asked me over to their place right away. If anything the guys were more into it than the chicks, but the chicks got red hot as I took my time, flexing each muscle for them one by one - massive delts, thick and defined, huge hard striated pecs, and my unusually thick chiseled abs really made them wet and anxious for my meat. The chicks started to lick and stroke me all over, and couldn't get enough. The guys started getting into it when I flexed my arms and showed them what real 32" guns look like. 'Check out this muscle man's arm! Dig that biceps, buddy! Feel those huge fuckers!" The dudes couldn't help themselves and started to cum. For the final treat, I slipped off my sweats and let 'em see my muscle muledick - now pumped to nearly 15" and thick as most guys arms. Their devoted attention to my body really got me hard! Once I showed 'em my meat there was no stopping any of them. I flexed and posed while the chicks took turns getting fucked, sliding their hot tight pussies up and down my thick manpole 'til they couldn't take any more. Then it was the guys turn - they'd been licking up my sweat, rimming my muscle ass like there was no tomorrow, and waiting for their chance to take a real horse-dicked muscle star up their butts. "Open your asshole, man!" I slammed it into the first dude, and he came right away. No sooner than he'd shot his load than I pulled all 15" of my monster dick out of his ass and slid it right into the next guy, who groaned with ecstasy as both chicks kept fingering their gushing cunts and licking me all over. I flexed my arms to keep them busy while I rammed the second guy's ass. This dude could really take a fucking, and I power-slammed his tight hole for about an hour before he couldn't take any more. 'Feel that muscle cock up your butt, boy! Take my pole all the way!" I shot my load over the four of them and promised I'd do them again sometime." 'That's not why I came in today, though. I wanted to tell you what really surprised me. My buddy Chuck, the one who lost the bicep-curl contest? He really took to that orgy we had over at his place, and he wanted to see what kind of musclesex challenge would wear me out. He made arrangements for another muscle and fuck get together, this time inviting about 100 of his friends over to watch my muscle power, and get themselves screwed like they'd never been screwed before. I knew I'd have no problem satisfying the whole crowd. I'm a musclefuck machine, and I knew my mind-blowing freaky power and eye-boggling mass would blow away even the most jaded muscle freak Chuck could find. Everybody met that night over at his place about 10 p.m. He'd hauled in some equipment that would let me show my muscle power before the fucking got started, and I wanted to work my body to get it really freaky and pumped for the crowd. "All right everybody," I yelled out, "Are you ready to watch a total body builder stud in action?" Chuck's friends seemed restless with anticipation. I kept myself fully covered with XXXX large sweats, and still looked fucking huge! The crowd got really quiet when they saw the set-up, and started guessing what kind of show I'd put on for them. On the upper part of his split-level living room, Chuck had brought in a weight bench with a huge bar, loaded with ten 100-pound plates on each side. Right next to that was a pair of the biggest looking dumbbells I'd ever seen - they must have been 350 pounds a piece! Well, I was really getting hot thinking about the strength and power I could show off! I positioned myself under the bar - over 2,000 pounds! I roared as I lifted, and the bar sagged under the weight of the plates. I heard the crowd shout its approval! I pumped out reps for 20 minutes while the crowd panted and yelled with muscle lust. They knew they were in the presence of a most totally powerful freak! ?'WORSHIP MY MUSCLE POWER!" I yelled as I grabbed the dumbbells and pumped out dozens of shoulder presses, squeezing really hard at the top of each one to make sure my beach-ball sized delts would be fully pumped and freaky, guaranteed to make eyes pop! Finally, I put the dumbbells down and slid out of my sweatshirt, starting my show off with Sergio Oliva's victory pose. My body was drenched in sweat, and shined under the lights. "CHECK OUT MY MUSCLE!" I yelled, and the crowd went nuts. I could see they'd never imagined anything like the thick, defined slabs of beef they were seeing. Women were fingering their pussies, men with uncontrollable raging hard-ons all crazy to get a piece of my massive body. Still, I kept my sweatpants on, wanting to build more suspense. "GOT TO GET TOTALLY FREAKY FOR YOU TONIGHT," I yelled out as I picked up the dumbbells and started biceps curls. The crowd roared their approval, and their worship was getting totally intense." "This really turned me on, and my dick started to get hard, stretching my sweats way out in front of me. I kept pumping out curls and my dick kept getting harder and longer. My pre-cum was soaking through the heavy fabric and the crowd could barely contain themselves. I ditched the dumbbells and decided to go for broke. I grabbed the bar off the weight bench and started bending it around my neck. 'FUCK, YEAH!" I was getting crazy. The bar was hardened steel, designed to carry maximum poundages for total heavy-duty powerlifting. I strained and grunted against the bar. Veins burst out everywhere, and I got totally, massively pumped. The bar started bending, slowly at first. I roared to the crowd, "CHECK THIS OUT! WORSHIP MY POWER! WORSHIP MY HUGE BODY!" The crowd couldn't stop themselves. The bar had bent until the opposite ends were touching, and I threw it down like a toothpick. I let the first chick measure my guns. 'Thirty-six inches!" she yelled as she began to orgasm uncontrollably. The crowd roared. "More! Show us your muscle cock!" Well, that really got me hot. My dick ripped through my sweats and surged with lust, bigger than it had ever been before! One guy grabbed the tape measure, and lay it along the top of my mammoth ramrod. "Sixteen and a half fucking inches!" he yelled out. That did it. The chicks held their cunts open while I rammed them one after another. "Slide that muscle dick in my cunt! Show me your thick fucking cock!" I flexed and posed while the chicks clamped my man-meat and slid up and down. The guys were really getting off on seeing so many chicks orgasm like they could never get them to. I knew it wouldn't be long before they'd be begging to get fucked, too. Sure enough, once I'd finished off the chicks they guys were lining up with their butt-cheeks spread and their holes wide open. "YEAH, MAN, OPEN THAT HOT FUCKING ASSHOLE" I yelled out as I rammed one hot, tight butthole after another. "TAKE MY HUGE MUSCLE MEAT, ALL THE WAY MAN!" I slammed their butts so hard my huge, heavy nuts were slapping their backsides like crazy." "Finally, there were only about 20 guys left in the crowd who could take any more. For the finale, I thought I'd really put on a freak show - I grabbed a stack of the 100 pound plates and slid them onto my cock. "FUCK THAT MAKES ME HARD!" I shouted, and my cock surged harder and longer than it ever had before! There must have been over a foot of thick, hard meat sticking out past the huge 100 pound plates, and my dickhead had gotten so big I wasn't sure how I'd slide them off again! Gasps of amazement filled the room as they saw the power in my manmeat. I was so turned on my dick filled the holes in the plates to the max, and the plates acted like massive cockrings, making my cock hard as a thick iron bar. "LOOK AT MY MUSCLE POWER COCK!" I yelled, and I turned into a total fuck machine. "GET THOSE BUTTHOLES OPEN, BOYS!" I started by power-ramming the rest of the guys like they'd never been fucked before, slamming their butts with my mammoth jackhammer, rattling the six hundred pound plates stacked on my dick. Even though all the chicks in the room had been cumming uncontrollably for hours, and all the guys had shot off at least 3-4 times a piece, they all got fucked one last time. I couldn't believe how fucking hot this muscle worship crowd was! With all six plates still stacked on my iron-hard cock, I stood in front of these dedicated muscle freaks and started posing under the lights. I was goddamn huge! I love to pose and can never show off enough muscle. "I'M THE BIGGEST - MOST POWERFUL - HOTTEST MUSCLE MAN - THE BIGGEST HORSECOCK - THERE IS!" I yelled, maybe three or four times. By now I was pumped beyond belief, and as I posed the crowd roared approval. "MORE! SHOW US YOUR POWER! FLEX THAT MUSCLE! SHOW US YOUR HUGE FUCKIN' MANMEAT!" They were begging for more! After all this, my bull nuts were aching to cum - FULLY loaded to the max! My dick got so fucking hard the six hundred pound plates started bending under the force of my power cock, and I started to shoot my load. "HOT FUCKIN' MUSCLE CUM! WORSHIP MY MANJUICE!" Everyone in the place was drenched as I shot an ocean of hot cum! They lapped it up like crazy, and thanked me over and over for allowing them to be there." He smiled and walked out of my office. After listening to this, I knew it wouldn't be his last visit...