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Found 11 results

  1. Daniel’s growth cycle appears to be over as he reaches over to give Vance a huge kiss on his lips. With Anderson consuming Vance’s cum, the relationship between the three guys may have now changed forever. Vance’s confession that he cares a great deal about Daniel could lead to something more long term. After about thirty minutes, the three teens get up and start to clean up the campsite. Both Anderson and Vance are able to put their clothes back on, but Daniel’s dramatic transformation creates a really large problem, he cannot wear anything in his present condition. It is after a little bit of thinking that Daniel’s friends decide to use one of the tents as a way of covering him up since there is nothing else available. He laughs but agrees to try it out. Luckily his massive frame is able to fit completely inside the material as they tie a few ropes around his waist. His cock forms a huge bulge to the side of his leg but at least it is concealed. They now wonder if Daniel could even fit in the van that they brought with them on the trip. He tells them to not worry and that he can just tail them on the way back to the city since he knows the path there. Anderson and Vance think it is a crazy idea but they go along with it. They tell him they will see him a little later and drive off leaving him on his own. As he begins to leave the campsite, he realizes that he has no way of communicating with them if he has some kind of problem. He feels a little scared, but knows that his size should deter about anyone that approaches him. He makes it to the end of the country road that led to the campsite when he hears a voice getting closer. He looks around bewildered and starts to walk again. The voice draws even closer than before. He stops moving to wait and see if this person or thing will continue to follow him. He goes to turn his head as he comes face to face with an olive skinned man with a thick beard. He smiles as he pushes Daniel down on the ground. He tries punching the man, but he is unable to do much to him as the man pulls open the tent that was covering Daniel and plunges his thick cock inside him. The young hulk barely resists as the giant olive stud starts fucking him hard moving faster with each thrust. Before long, the intruder busts a huge load inside him and yells in ecstasy. Daniel punches him which makes him grab his face with his thick hands. He manages to push the giant stud off of him, but not before he is dragged back over to him. The man laughs as he pulls Daniel down to the ground to face him. ‘YOU WILL FUCKING SIT THERE MAN! I THINK I DESERVE SOME NOURISHMENT FROM YOU!’ The man grabs a hold of Daniel’s cock and starts stroking hard making him squirm. His strength is making the young hulk agonize as he feels a giant load building up inside him. The man smiles and knows he won’t have to wait too longer for his reward. He strokes faster as he feels the cum flowing from Daniel’s balls into his cock. He opens his mouth to catch the thick goo as it shoots directly into his throat. The young victim moans as he fills his attacker full of his juices. ‘MMMMM SO DELICIOUS MAN! I THINK YOU CAN FEED ME MORE AGAIN LATER!’ He lets go of Daniel’s cock as he falls over on to his back. The young victim appears to be rearing to leave again, but the huge Hispanic-looking man stops him yet again. ‘Going somewhere man! I don’t think so, you are going to stay here and keep me company.’ ‘What do you want from me? I am just trying to get home.’ ‘I doubt you will go anywhere near the city man. There are a lot of crazy people there. Trust me, that is how I ended up like this.’ Daniel stares at him intensely as he says this and wonders what exactly happened to this man. He starts to ask him a few questions. ‘So how did you get so massive?’ The man smiles at him. ‘How old are you anyway man? I’m 20 and let me tell you, I never thought I would be in this body for my entire life. My dream came true though and now I am a colossus of muscle.’ ‘I’m 18. I just graduated from high school actually. Wow you are 20? I would have guessed a bit older.’ The man glares at him for a few moments and then winks. ‘My name is Gavin in case you wanted to know. Of course I know you don’t give a shit, but I told you anyway.’ ‘My name is Daniel. I sort of hit puberty late since this just happened yesterday.’ ‘OHH I see. Well mine wasn’t puberty, it was caused by a chemical I ingested a few days ago. I sort of wish I had stayed where it happened now because I am wondering what the man I was with is up to.’ ‘There is someone else like you?’ ‘Well yes actually, I fucked him hard like you and he changed. I doubt that it will affect you since you have a different problem hehe.’ Daniel and Gavin talk for several more minutes before they decide that maybe they should lay low for awhile. ‘Damn my friends are probably waiting for me in the city. What should I do Gavin?’ ‘Forget it man, if they come back here they are making a mistake because you are better off being away from them.’ ‘I care a great deal about one of them though. I can’t just forget about him.’ ‘Daniel, I have the same problem too, but I know it is for the best if I stay away from him.’ They share some more stories about their lovers before Gavin recommends that they keep moving along. He shares some food with Daniel that he made when he was scavenging over the past few days. He tells the young hulk that they will have to constantly eat to maintain their energy and frankly their minds. Since Gavin is a bit bigger than his younger counterpart, he agrees that he will hunt for more food if Daniel can build a shelter for them for the night. He agrees and Gavin disappears for a bit. Daniel gets to work on building the shelter as he breaks down a bunch of huge branches and finds things to tie them together with. He hasn’t really done much of this before even though he remembers a few things from Boy Scouts. As the sun goes down, Daniel manages to put the shelter together in a decent fashion. He hears huge footsteps and hopes that it is Gavin and nobody else. He can feel whatever it is breathing on him as he turns around. To his surprise, it is a giant brown bear standing on its back legs. Before he can make a sound, his older companion comes out of nowhere and breaks the bear’s neck like it is nothing. Gavin smiles really big and says point blank, ‘WE HAVE DINNER!’ Then he remarks how Daniel didn’t make a fire, but laughs. After finding an appropriate spot, Daniel starts the fire up as Gavin carves up the bear into segments. He asks if his young buddy has anything to cook with and he shakes his shoulders. Gavin disappears for a few minutes and comes back with a giant metal tub. Daniel gives him a strange look and then asks where he got that from. The older hulk laughs and says somewhere close by and plants the tub close to the fire. He tells Daniel to build him a shelf so he can put the tub on it. ‘Who am I, Mr. Handyman?’ ‘You seem to be doing fine to me man. Get to it Daniel!’ Daniel finds some stray branches and manages to tie them together enough that they can surround the fire. Gavin sits the tub in the middle as it heats up. He throws massive amounts of bear meat into it and watches it cook up. The two hulks marvel at how delicious it looks as it cooks. Gavin decides to take some of the meat out to let it bake in the sun the next morning since he plans on moving on to another destination in a day or two. As the sun disappears from the sky, the two huge men chow down on the cooked meat in some makeshift bowls that Daniel made out of some scrap wood. It doesn’t take long for them to finish eating to go lay down in their shelter. Gavin remarks at how well-constructed it is and then turns to look at Daniel and winks. The younger hulk blushes a bit as he begins to realize that he is warming up to this strange man laying with him. They both have things in common it seems and yet they are so incredibly different. Daniel is still thinking that Anderson and Vance will probably come looking for him possibly as early as the next day since he did promise that he would follow behind them. Gavin again tells him that he needs to just move along because going back to the city is not a wise decision at this point because of his size. He explains how he became who he is to Daniel and how he volunteered for a secret project with a doctor that he refers to as Raines. Originally he was a bit scared about it since at that point in time he was quite shy. Once the chemical entered into his body though, something ferocious was unleashed from inside and he became who he is now. Daniel is intrigued by his story and talks about his late puberty. Gavin moves in closer as he tells his story and rubs his face a little. He can tell that the young hulk is very close to dosing off so he leans him against his chest. After a few minutes, they both doze off as neither one of them knows what will happen next.
  2. Daniel is a teenager getting ready to focus on his college plans. His grades are so good that he earned a scholarship to a great university. He has never really focused his energy on the way he looks, but his classmates have let him know has small he is quite often. At only 5'5 and 120 pounds, he looks slightly out of place among his senior class. The reason could be due to the fact that he never went through puberty. He has no facial hair and his body hair is practically invisible. His parents always tell him that it will happen when he least expects it. They want him to be careful when he is out in public. He finds this quite amusing, but he always felt they were partially right. He has female friends, but they don't see him as a suitable mate, rather just a guy they can talk to about their problems in their lives. He has never had a sexual preference for either sex, but wouldn't mind dating either sex. His male buddies kid him all the time about his boyish looks and how his muscles look like they belong on a 10-year old. He has two really close friends that could not be more different. One of them, Anderson, is small like him and has dated him occasionally. He actually likes Daniel a lot, but he doesn't see him as a match since he likes bigger men. His other buddy, Vance, is a tank that befriended him when he bailed him out of a fight in elementary school. They both have hung out quite a bit in the last few years and have even had sleepovers in his backyard. He is very open with Daniel and has let him put his arms around his body when Daniel sleeps. This never connected with him before, but it is possible that he really likes Daniel. He is biracial and understands what Daniel has been going through more than he realizes. He too was picked on because of his differences when he was younger before he bulked up and took a stand against his bullies. Daniel invites his two good friends to a campsite the weekend before you all graduate to just enjoy their last days together. As all three of them are setting up their tents, Daniel feels really dizzy and has to go sit down somewhere. Vance sees how he his feeling and picks him up in his arms to carry him over to the riverbank beside the campsite. He sees that Daniel is about to go through some kind of change, but he doesn't want to tell him. He watches him closely to see if he is going to pass out or not. Anderson watches both guys as he continues to put up the tents and yells at Vance every once in a while to know how Daniel is doing. He lays him down and unbuttons his shirt because he sees how much Daniel is sweating now. He reassures him that he is there for him no matter what happens. Daniel can feel excruciating pain running up his legs and into his chest. Vance hears something pop as he watches his buddy’s legs lengthen their way towards the river. His eyes grow huge when he sees this as he also feels Daniel’s thighs getting thicker and stretching the fabric in his jeans. He notices the denim starting to fray as body hair emerges through the gaps. He looks down and witnesses his feet tearing through his boots as he starts to thrash about. Vance is now mesmerized by his transformation. With Daniel’s shirt still open, he sees his waist thicken as cords of muscle begin appearing in his midsection. Vance places his hands on Daniel’s growing chest and feels the pecs blowing up into giant mounds as his abs begin popping out from within. More cracking is heard as his back starts to reshape making room for more growth. It hurts exponentially, but Vance is noticing that Daniel is beyond the pain now. He sees lats growing from behind his back and they are pulling the shirt away from his body. Daniel’s back is growing so much that Vance can feel him actually being lifted from the ground by it. Now his arms are starting to vibrate uncontrollably. His skinny arms he had inside his shirt are now exploding in size, getting huge and powerful. He sees Daniel’s forearms shred the shirt as his growing biceps blow through the sleeves. Now his shoulders are ripping through the top of the shirt and Daniel’s neck widens leading to his voice changing. He hears his moans change to deep groans and growls. While his face still looks the same, his body hair has dramatically thickened as a black forest begins to grow all over his body. He caresses Daniel’s body hair as he goes in to kiss him. As he approaches the newly mature Daniel’s face, he watches in delight as a nice coating of hair has appeared on his face. The growing teen is spent from the growth, but Vance's kiss ignites fireworks between the two of them. Anderson missed the whole sequence, but he will soon know how it resulted. The pants Daniel is wearing are so dangerously tight that they are cutting off the circulation to his legs. To relieve the pressure, he flexes his new quads as the pant seams explode. He easily rips them off and to show off his beautifully hairy legs. Vance smiles as he turns him on so much. He tries to pick Daniel up, but he is now over 6' tall and Vance is 6'2. He kisses him passionately again and wants to make love to him. The underwear he is wearing amazingly is still intact, but his cock has slightly grown too. He has to adjust it to where his cock sits on the side instead of in the upright position. Vance starts rubbing it with loving caresses and holds him with his other hand. He looks Daniel straight into his green eyes and admits that he was aware of him impending change and wanted to wait until the time was right to make his move. He pulls his engorged cock out of his underwear and leans down to kiss the huge cockhead. He licks it with his tongue and then spits a small amount of saliva onto it making it nice and wet. Daniel feels his mouth go down on the shaft and slowly starts moving up and down on it getting a nice rhythm going. He moans incessantly as Vance gets him close to the edge and keeps stopping over and over again. This makes him want to go deeper inside Vance’s mouth. This prompts Daniel to start growing again as his ass rips the seams of his underwear. The eager sucker grabs the hair thickening up on his ass and starts to finger his hole. He can feel something from within Daniel that may cause another growth spurt and decides to pull his cock out of his mouth. He starts jerking him to the point that he can't hold back any more and erupts. His thick white fountain splashes Vance in the face as he starts gripping the ground. He smiles as Daniel’s back begins to get longer again. His muscles are getting so big and thick that his body hair now looks thinner. He scoops up some of Daniel’s cum and starts to rub it into his body beginning with the pecs and arms. The growing teen moans as it appears to be working. The hair thickens back up again and coats all of his muscles more than before. Vance gulps down Daniel’s growing cock and swallows the jizz that is still flowing out of him. He rubs his buddies head and wants to kiss him again. Daniel pulls Vance away from his cock long enough to drizzle some of his cum onto his tongue to share a wet kiss. He swallows the tasty cum and watches as his abs thicken up and widen. Vance rubs his bigger muscles and wants him to grow even bigger. At 6'6, he is not sure how much more Daniel wants. The two studly teens can now hear Anderson yelling back as he can see what has happened. He races over and feels how powerful Daniel’s body has become. He hasn't always been as open about his feelings for Daniel as Vance has, but he obviously likes what he sees since he has his hand in his pants. He sits down beside the two big teens and watches the two of them start to go further. Vance is taking his clothes off now so he can sit on top of Daniel’s thick cock. He bounces up and down on him wanting to feel him erupt inside his body so he can possibly have his own growth spurt. He is now about four inches taller than Vance and about 50 pounds bigger too so he can move him around with ease now. As they get into the doggy style position, Daniel is able to get all the way in and go to town on him. He yells in pleasure as the now aggressive top is hitting his prostate and milking him. Anderson moves down to get underneath so he can catch Vance’s spunk into his mouth. Daniel can feel how close he is now so he doesn’t hold back anymore. He shoots massive jets of cum into his eager bottom’s belly and shutters at the extraordinary feeling. Vance yells in ecstasy as he explodes straight into Anderson’s waiting mouth. Without much effort, Anderson sprays his spunk all over Vance’s big feet. The three horny teens fall over on the riverbank completely spent from the sex capade that just occurred.
  3. ‘Damn this is quite the storm. I don’t remember it ever being this bad before.’ Cooper stares out his window at the trees whipping around ferociously against the strong winds. He can see debris starting to whip up from around the neighborhood. He quickly decides to move away from the windows and get into a nearby doorway in case something happens to his apartment. *phone beeps* He looks down at the text message that pops up on his screen from his close friend Aaron. ‘Yeah dude, I know. This is crazy, the power is about to go out here I think.’ *lights go out* ‘Well speak of the devil…..’ *phone loses reception* ‘DAMNIT! This sucks ass, I can’t understand how the meteorologists could get this so wrong. I really wanted to go on that trip.’ He can feel his building starting to shake as he holds on to the sides of the doorway. The wind outside howls as it begins to shake the windows in his living room. Without a second thought, they shatter as the room begins to crumble. Cooper falls to the ground and lies unconscious as he is hit with rubble. Several hours later, Cooper wakes up and feels extremely groggy. He pushes enough of the trash away to get up and start moving around. The endless amount of destruction can be seen for miles as he stands there where his apartment was in complete shock. He looks down and notices that his clothes are slightly ripped, but it is the least of his worries. He turns to look at the nearby mountain and sees that a rainbow has appeared over the horizon. The sheer size of it is what draws him in as he starts to walk towards it. It must be about two miles from where his apartment is but at this point he doesn’t care since for some reason it is summoning him to go to it. Along the way he notices he isn’t alone as other men from surrounding residential complexes are also being drawn to the rainbow. When he finally gets to the edge of it, he begins to wonder why he ever went there in the first place considering the catastrophe that just occurred in the city. The men that were trailing beside him appear to have already traveled up the rainbow and over across the mountain range. He turns around to take another look at the city behind him and wonders if things will ever be the same again before he hears a voice coming from above. ‘Aye there Cooper, I do believe you are next. Why don’t you step up on this here lift and I will take you across.’ Cooper turns and sees a short muscled man dressed in a green suit with a hat that matches it. He seems a bit surprised that such a small man could be built so incredibly well. ‘Uhh…..why is this rainbow here and what is going on? I don’t understand what has happened here and why are all of these men going across the rainbow anyway?’ The little man laughs a little as he gets to the bottom of the rainbow. He grabs Cooper’s hand before leading him on to the lift with him. ‘I know what has happened to you is tragic Cooper which is why I am here. You see I am here to help you rebuild your city, but certain things have to be done first to ensure that it is done correctly.’ As the little man sits down with Cooper, the lift starts moving up the rainbow slowly. ‘Ahh yes, I forgot to tell you…..my name is Padraig, of course me mates call me Paddy.’ ‘Oh so it isn’t Patrick, as in St. Patrick.’ *Cooper sort of chuckles a little as they move up the rainbow* Paddy turns to punch Cooper in the arm which shocks the bigger man. ‘Holy shit man, you are freaking strong. I have never seen a guy of your stature with such incredibly thick muscles.’ Paddy laughs a little as he bounces his pecs before making his biceps jump. ‘Aye I am not that short mate. It could surprise you what your body can accomplish if it is just pushed hard enough.’ ‘So…..what exactly am I doing on this lift on this rainbow with what I am guessing is an incredibly well-built Irishman?’ Paddy smiles and takes his hat off to show off his red hair and hands it to Cooper. ‘Aye Cooper…..you are one of the fortunate few that survived this horrific storm that just went through your land. I or I should say we are here to help you rebuild your city but you will have to complete an important quest first before I can help you.’ The confused young man stares at the little Irish muscle guy for about a minute before he says something else. ‘Uhh what would you have me do Paddy? I am curious as to what you mean by a quest?’ Paddy shows Cooper that they are approaching the other end of the rainbow. He smiles and tells him to just relax until they get to the bottom. When the lift finally stops moving, the little man prompts Cooper to get off. ‘Here we are Cooper. Somewhere in this here nearby forest is something or someone that will have a connection to you in some way. Once you retrieve it or them from that spot, then you will come back to this area mate and present it to me. Do note though, there will be some kind of obstacle in your way and you will have to figure out how to get around it whether physically or mentally. That will be up to you of course. This is the time for me to say good luck and safe journey.’ The muscled Irish man pulls a gold coin from his pocket and puts it into Cooper’s right pants pocket. ‘I have given you a charm to help you along the way Cooper. I hope you succeed at seeking out the treasure. Good day to you my big lad.’ Paddy turns to walk down a black road and vanishes practically into thin air. Cooper stares astonishingly as he does disappear and sighs. He pulls the coin out from his pocket and examines it. To his surprise, it is indeed real and made of solid gold. He doesn’t recognize the language on it since it doesn’t seem to be anything he has seen before. After a minute or two, he puts it back in his pocket and starts to walk into the nearby forest wondering what he will find. On his way inside, he encounters two men sitting on stone slabs at the intersection of two paths. He stops to look at both of them before he sees them get up. They both smile at him and mimic each other’s body language. Cooper finds this rather strange and begins to ponder which direction he will choose. As he moves to the right path, they both jump down from the rocks and pull him back to where he was standing. The one on the right side starts to speak. ‘I don’t think you want to go that way just yet Cooper, you may want to think this through some more.’ The one from the left rock stands behind him. ‘He is right you know. You need to make a selection I know, but think it through first.’ They are both of different statures too. The guy from the left side is small and lean, but quite ripped. He looks like he has been to a gym quite a bit. The guy from the right side is big and bulky, like he is going through an offseason of bulking for some show. His muscles are thick and massive. Both of the men are wearing the same clothes however, just in their appropriate sizes. Cooper does think it through for a few moments, but wonders if there is a right direction to take. Both men go back to their original positions on their rocks once Cooper makes his choice. As he walks down the path, he stops to second guess himself before treading along again. He hears someone’s voice at the end of the trail and moves a little faster. When he arrives there, he sees another small muscled man this time in a while suit and white hat. ‘Aye there Cooper glad to see that you made your way to my camp. Why don’t you take a seat here and let me examine you for a minute.’ Cooper sits down while the little man makes his way around him studying his body like he is about to pounce or something. The confused larger man gives him a weird look which draws a few laughs from the muscled short man. ‘Hehe, it’s alright lad. Paddy is just one of many in this clan. I am Ciaran, one of four wizards in the clan that are responsible for developing the armies for reconstruction. You made your choice of the path you want to take with your life and now I am going to make that a reality for you.’ Cooper seems a bit nervous about what he is saying and moves away from him slowly by crawling backwards. ‘Uhh I just picked a direction actually…..i didn’t know which direction to take I just chose one.’ ‘Well Cooper, there is no turning back now lad, I am responsible for transforming you into your final form. This won’t hurt too much I promise…..’ ‘NO NO! I DON’T WANT WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO GIVE ME? PLEASE DON’T…..’ Ciaran grabs his staff lying beside him and chants what seems to be some kind of spell before pointing it directly into Cooper’s direction. The scared man is still trying to crawl away before he feels some kind of heavy force entering his body. He yells in fright as he senses something happening to him. Ciaran rushes behind a nearby tree to peek over the other side to watch what happens next. Cooper grips the ground beneath him as he feels his body changing rapidly. The muscles in his legs and arms stretch and pop growing wildly as they double up on each other. His clothes quickly shred making way for the additional size that is forming. His chest expands so much he feels himself rising off the ground as his back makes quick work of his shirt. His thick shoulders and delts push his arms further out in front of him as his lats form into giant wings. His immense quads and ass explode through his pants and underwear leaving him completely nude. He groans as he feels everything go numb unaware that he has grown to nearly twice his size. He finally passes out from the sheer carnage. Ciaran walks over to him and checks to see if he still has a pulse. Three other small muscled men appear out of thin air and cover Cooper in a furry blanket before picking him up and carrying him to a nearby lift. He is placed in a bed on the lift as the machine carries him away from the camp. In less than two minutes, the lift stops moving and he is carried by other small men into a sleeping area. He awakens a few hours later and doesn’t remember what has happened to him. Paddy sits nearby and gets up to walk over to Cooper still lying in the bed. ‘Well lad, I do believe you made a reasonable choice. Not every man chooses to become the strongman type, but you will be vital in carrying out the hard labor through your reconstruction.’ Cooper seems a bit disoriented, but sits up anyway in his bed. His huge heaving pecs and bulky arms bounce involuntarily. He sees them and yells a little in shock. Paddy laughs and gets up on the bed at the very end beside the strongman. He uncovers Cooper to reveal his massive tree trunks and swollen calves. Cooper flexes them making the striations show through the skin. Paddy punches them making them react. Cooper groans as he does it. ‘OW! Damn that kind of hurt Paddy…..*looks all over his body feeling and flexing* wait is this me? I’m so huge…..i can’t remember what happened to me exactly? Am I supposed to be like this?’ Paddy shakes his head and smiles. ‘You chose this path for yourself mate. You deep down must have wanted to be big and strong because that is the path you took. Those two men you saw in the forest were representations of you. You either wanted to be ripped which would have made you a breeder or you wanted to be enormous which would make you a builder. You chose to be a builder which I admire a lot. Breeders are tricky especially when they are not interested in women.’ Cooper still seems dumbfounded and rubs his pecs with his huge arms. Paddy gets back down off the bed and goes over to get an outfit for the huge man. It is a green suit like his only in Cooper’s immense size. ‘Here you go lad, put it on. I think you are ready to start your new life back on planet Earth. You will know your path once you get back down there. It will all become clearer to you once you get back. As for me, my work is done with you for now. Go now and fulfill your destiny. It was a pleasure meeting you Cooper and I promise we will meet again lad.’ Paddy leaves the sleeping area and vanishes. Cooper puts the suit on and walks out into the open air. He sees the lift come down from the top of the nearby rainbow and stop for him. He gets in it as it takes him back over to the other side. Once he gets off, the lift disappears. As Paddy predicted, Cooper begins to feel things clearing up in his mind. He smiles as he puts on his green hat and waddles his way down the street back into the city. Instead of feeling sadness for the destruction, he feels like there is hope for redemption. Only time will tell if the city will be rebuilt or not.
  4. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 The Bear I felt the stone crack as my fist drove deeply into it. I hurled one fist after another, my flesh burying itself over and over again with each punch into the hard layers of rock set down millions of years before. Rocks now laid bare and broken by each powerful arm as I jackhammered a new tunnel through the mine. Inside me I felt the now familiar feeling. Like a dragon howling through my brain. Testosterone and adrenalin and something else coursing through my veins. Something darker. Evil. But undeniably powerful. I felt its grip crushing me, driving me, building me, controlling me. Even as it burned through me. A slave to the pump. Bone and blood and muscle, but mostly muscle. Engorged. Swelling. Oh fuck yeah. This was it. I felt unstoppable. An irresistible force laying waste to all in my path. The weight of the rock pressed into me as the tunnel I was making through the mountain, unsupported, caved in behind and around me. The momentary sense of claustrophobia tugged at my brain as I felt the tons of mountain pushing against my shoulders, heavy and dragging down on the thick quad muscle of each leg, my weighty calves were swelling as each leg pressed forward, and I was reminded over and over that I was more powerful than the very forces of nature that had raised this mountain from the Earth and pressed sand and minerals into rigid, immutable rock. And even down there I felt engorged, swollen, thick as it followed after each fist and carved a path like a jackhammer, leaking. Cumming over and over as it penetrated stone tighter than any hole I’d ever had. I was lost deeply in the fog of desire and dust, as with a final push I felt the very mountain side shatter, blowing outwards. The sun striking my eyes, blinding me for only a moment as I adjusted my vision and looked out onto the valley of Iron Mine. The town below, with only a few stragglers left from the earlier competition. The dragon roared again, breathing fire now. I almost couldn’t think as I leapt from the mountain side. I felt the air against my skin. Muscle covered in dust and dirt. Each of my mighty thighs propelling me upwards, into the air, into the clouds, I felt the cool on my hot skin, the moisture of the higher elevation condensing on me, cooling as it mixed with sweat to smear the rock dust that coated my bronzed skin and made me look like a grey monster made of muscle and rock. As I reached the zenith of my parabola thousands of feet above the Earth, I felt myself start to descend, the forested valley of the mountains rising up to me and I could feel the grin that plastered my face as I landed, impacting like a meteorite slamming into the forest floor. The debris of the impact crater cleared from the air, and I took in my surroundings. The great trees of the ancient forest rising up above my head and I rose to my full height as well. I felt the boulders in my shoulders relax as I pulled them back, the air against my naked flesh, cock still fully engorged and achingly hard. My frame rigid and I held myself like a statue, hard as iron. No, no. Much harder. Just as quickly I squatted and jumped again, but this time heading northwards and west. Deeper into the wilderness. Over mountains and trees into the remote spine of the Rockies and even further. Leap after leap. Slamming into the ground like an earthquake. Until I was lost far into the wilderness. Finally I landed near a great lake. Its cold water icy and dark. The air felt cold and so good on my burning warm skin. My lungs heaved, unused to the level of exertion that I’d been demanding of them. And I felt my pecs rise and fall rapidly as I took great breaths of air. My muscles were sore. But inside I felt the dragon relax and uncoil, finally calming. I took a step expecting the very Earth under my feet to tremble, but it didn’t. And I started to remember from the fog of my mind. Pain and pleasure. Mostly pain. In the cold dark water I could see a reflection. I watched it stretch out across the water. It was a man. His face youthful, but with a hard square jaw. Enough scruff on his face to be the makings of a beard, darker hair, with hints of blonde and ginger shining in it. He raised a massive hand to feel the stubble on his cheeks even as I did. And I watched the thick swell of muscle from his arm rise high, higher, ever higher until even he couldn’t bend his arm any further, prevented from doing so by the thick bulging fibres of bicep, deltoid and forearm. It looked thick and hard and so enormous. He kneeled as did I. Looking closer at me as I looked at him. And he grinned. And I grinned back. He was handsome. A cocky warm smile. His teeth showing white, which made his eyes light up as bright as his smile. He was a mountain of muscle. As he leaned even closer to where I was leaning, his pecs mounded, abs crunching, quads nearly bursting through tight skin. He reached for me and I reached back and the water felt cool as I broke the reflection and he disappeared, distorted by the ripples in the water as I scooped the cool liquid out and brought it to my lips to drink. So that was me. I remembered seeing big men. A shadow in my memory loomed large, very large indeed. But I was big too. I would not be taken. And the dragon whispered that I would be the biggest of them all. "What are you doing on my mountain pup?" The voice was deep like the valleys over which I had soared just a few moments before. I turned to see him standing there. He was calm, but I saw the subtle guard of his posture. The firm stance of his legs ready for trouble. He too was naked, but unlike me he was hairy. His thick muscles were obscured by a tangle of dark black hair almost as thick as the forest nearby. A word came to the back of my mind: bear. From the distance I wasn’t sure how big he would be compared next to me. But I saw a thick log hanging between his legs from beneath a dark bush of hair, and his balls hung down behind that. He wasn’t as finely carved as I was, and his thick arms were covered in a layer of what looked like off season fat. His abs obscured by a tight, thick gut. But he was all man. As was I. I felt the resting dragon start to stir. "You’re a biggun ain’t ya?” He said. I could see a part of him stirring too. He spit on the stone. He was dark, dark in his colouring like a grizzly. With the blackest of hair. Skin tanned and weathered. I licked my lips, suddenly hungry. “Filthy too. Been rolling in dirt like a pig boy?” “I’m not your boy.” I said, surprising myself with the deep, rich timbre of my own voice. “The pup speaks.” I narrowed my eyes as I kept them locked on his. This man was dangerous. Every impulse told me that this was a contest I would have to win, or I would need to submit to him. We couldn’t both be the alpha. I felt my hackles rise and the dragon hissed inside me, steam filling me. Hardening me. Cock thickening. Soon I knew, it would be breathing fire. He swaggered toward me and I strode to meet him. We came to a stop, standing close, taking the measure of each other. He was big indeed. But so was I. And I had room to grow. Did he? His thick cock slammed into mine, like an electric shock. The pure pleasure of the connection overwhelmed my mind for a minute, distracted the dragon, and I felt a gush of clear liquid shoot from my cock onto his meaty python. The bear sensed it and wasted no advantage. My momentary distraction was all he needed to pounce upon me and wrap me in his thick arms. A crushing bear hug. I was far too thick even for him, but he was still able to wrap around my guns and he poured on pressure at once, using every trick to immobilize me. And my very torso, my thick precious muscle, was in danger of being overwhelmed in the grip of this hairy creature. That was when the dragon bellowed inside, all survival instincts kicking in. It let loose a mighty roar as it sprayed fire within my muscle. Each fibre ablaze with strength and power and I felt myself holler as I forced my big arms away from my even thicker lats. The bear struggled against me, grunting and grinding his teeth as he tried to contain me. Surprise was in his eyes, but I would not stop and finally his hold broke as I pushed him back, forcing him to take a couple steps and flexing pecs and lats. Violently he backhanded me hard across the jaw in an effort to subdue me. It snapped my head to the side and I felt the power of it ringing through my head. I grinned as I turned my head back to him, not willing to show a moment of pain, grabbing his arms, and squeezing. My immense hands wrapped around the flesh of his muscle. Although he looked like an offseason lifter, I felt the iron thick cords of muscle spring to life as he resisted me. "Fuck you’re strong pup,” he told me as I felt his arms start to raise. I fought him, but the pull of muscle was very strong. “But this old man has been juicing since before you were born. Ain’t nobody beaten me yet.” “Just remember,” I said with effort. “There’s always someone out there bigger and stronger than you are.” Something in my memory was jogged just then. And I saw recognition in his eyes too. By now he’d fought to bring his guns up and they had swollen so big I lost my crushing grip. I reached instead for his hands and we grappled with each other. Our cocks were now fully engorged and I felt mine swell as big as it ever had. I was being beaten. No, not ever again. I knew deep inside that was a promise I had made to myself. And I wasn't going to let him stop me. I squeezed his hands so hard that even he groaned. “No…no…no….” “Yeeeessssssss….” I hissed back. I could feel my lats swelling. The power surging. No, never again. I pulled with all my might, demanding more rock crushing power. No mountain would resist me. Neither would any bear. I pulled him down and I felt him breaking under my strain. I felt the strength within me building. It still wasn’t there. It was boiling like a volcano about to explore. My pecs, biceps and quads were bulging. Sweat on my brow. He hissed and I growled. But his arms came down. And the dragon flew upwards then on mighty wings, its fiery breath laying waste to my weakness and self-doubt. My glutes crushed together as I pulled him against me, gaining leverage. He realised then and I now knew beyond any doubt that he wasn’t going to win this match. So I threw him. Hurling his body in the air and watched it fly back past the water and into an exposed rock face, cracking the stone. The bear sprang up. We two beasts glared, staring at each other. Then snorting, nostrils flaring, he leapt at me. And I sprung up too, charging back at him. Our bodies slammed together. We locked, grappling and shoving as we rolled once, then twice, breaking apart for any instant before leaping up against each other like two battering rams. Our feet dug into the dirt and rock beneath us and we pushed with all our might against each other. I left the ground beneath me crack and give, and as my footing fell away he was able to shove me, tackling, and then with a mighty twist he hurled me around and let go flying into the air. I felt my dense body slam into not one, but three trees, tearing into the massive trunks and causing them to fall around me. Getting to my feet, I lifted up one of the trunks, massive like a sequoia, and pushed it up like a shoulder press, pumping up the muscle. My delts and traps bunched, expanding as I hefted those tons of substantial, durable wood. As the big bear watched I finally brought the trunk down onto my knee and broke it into pieces, tearing the fibres and bark until it was in two halves, which I tossed against the other standing forest giants. I strode out. Intent now and ready. He took a step back and grabbed a small outcrop of rock, heaving it in his hands and pulling it until the now boulder was lose from the mountain. He flung it at me, desperate now. I caught it in my hands as easy as a baseball, feeling the ton weight as I tossed it and felt my rigid dick leaking again and hungry now. While he stood I pulled it onto my cock and thrust upwards and into the stone as he watched. "Your ass is next old man!” I warned him. The stone was drilled by my cock, but couldn’t withstand the pressure of my hands and cock both. Its silicate structure began to break apart as my hands pulverised it. And I ground the rock into the hard impenetrable flesh. Mixed with the copious precum, the ever finer rock dust made a gritty, dirty lubricant. The bear turned then as if to flee. I could see him about to leap and I sprang at him, grabbing his lats and forcing him to the ground. My cock reached for his hole. "Now, you’re gonna get fucked you old bear." The bear felt my arm pinning him to the ground, and I pushed as I felt him heave against me. He clamped that big meaty ass tight. Oh fuck it was hairy and his balls were hanging down. So warm and inviting. With my finger I pried apart those resisting cheeks and forced my digit inside until he was howling. "Shut up you fucker,” I warned him. "You’re beaten and I’m taking what I’m owed. Besides you just might like it." His groan turned into a moan as I fingered that tight hole. Oh he was untouched and it was gonna be so sweet, I felt myself swelling ever more. I had to exert my strength to keep him there and at my mercy, but with a cock fit to burst and aching there was no way he wasn't gonna feel all my power. I next pressed my much bigger cock where my finger had just been. He tried desperately to stop me, but he couldn’t. It just made it feel even better as I inserted myself so deeply that I felt my balls swing low and bang against his. The bear resisted less and less until he was pressing back and enjoying the pounding. "Oh fuck that’s sweet!” I grunted. He squeezed so hard on my thrusting cock with his glutes that I thought I might go crazy. I wrapped my hands under his own arms and put him in a full nelson hold, pulling him upward against my heaving pecs, forcing his lats to be crushed against my pecs, and until I felt my balls start to heave. Then I pushed him back down, face first, and ploughed him across the ground with each thrust. It was epic until we both roared cumming, him against the mountain and me deep inside him. The explosion of testosterone was incredible and I finally rolled off him, panting, exhausted but thoroughly satisfied. We laid there together and, defeated, he laid his head against my pecs as I wrapped my arms around him. My bull sweat was dried by his beard. After a while, he sat up leaning as he said, “Time for some food pup.” This time he meant it as a joke, and I pulled him back against me and kissed him. Our beards met. He tried to get up to go, but immediately he realised that he could not get up until I released him, as my strength had far outstripped his. Finally I relented and we got up, taking a back in the lake to wash away the sex and grime of our earlier fight. "Show me the way" * * * The bear took us through the woods in silence. At a good pace we arrived at a cabin in about a half-hour. It was built into the side of the mountain and sheltered by the trees, and I assume that bear had built it. There was no way you’d find it if you weren’t looking for it. I followed him in, slapping his ass inviting, as We walked though it and deep inside into a cave accessible through the back. It was cold in there like an icebox, although neither of us felt the chill, and inside he had hung deer from the ceiling. He took two down and fixed supper as I watched. We ate in silence. I matched his appetite consuming the tender venison, washing it down with water he’d drawn from further within the cave. He had also brought out two large wooden barrels, which after dinner I discovered contained a homemade brew that he’d prepared himself over the years. He tipped his back and drank greedily, as I did with mine following his example. The draught was rich and creamy, like a mead that had been mixed with milk, but the taste was unbelievable. I couldn’t stop. Each of us drank, and even as my already full stomach distended I could feel my muscles soaking up this nectar. He tossed his barrel aside. The liquid ran through his bread and his eyes glistened in the dim light. He had lit a fire, but his flesh was burning as warm as mine was. I knew he only needed the glow of the fire for its light and not its warmth. Empty even of the last drops I set my barrel down more carefully and rubbed my full stomach. I’d drained the barrel and felt contented as I leaned back, my legs spread wide, and a grin plastered on my face. We’d not spoken since the lake and there was no need to do so now. I had proven myself the dominant male, and it excited him even as it caused him apprehension. I lounged further, and felt my cock grow as he watched it and me. He came to me then, kneeling, and rested his big hands on my quads. I flexed my legs involuntarily, but the motion made him run his palms over the muscle. He moaned appreciatively, worshipping the muscle and massaging it with his fingers. I was harder than ever, even at rest. And his fingers traced the muscles, each vein and each ridge and furrow, before cupping the thick, full swell of the muscle itself. The intoxicating effect of the liquid was feeding me and I knew that drink was more than just an alcoholic beverage. It had pacified the dragon, but awoken something else in turn. Something more primitive. His hairy beard tickled my balls and his nose brushed my cock, sniffing and taking in my scent. It was strong and I reacted to him also. I felt him, powerful. He tried in vain to crush my muscle even as he worshipped, but he couldn’t. Not anymore. The more he pressed, the less he could dent, until even unflexed I defeated him. His tongue lapped back against my cock and balls and muscle. Thirstily he licked every drop of sweat from my body. And when he paused for too long my growl would remind him that worship was not optional. When he reached my traps, I finally moved to pull him up all the way. Felt myself find his hole again as he sunk down on it of his own accord, his cock wedging thickly into the valley of my abs. Each block of abdominal muscle caressing and squeezing his shaft so that he fucked my abs while he rocked on my cock. I grabbed his throat, holding him and squeezing it as the pressure built inside my balls. I applied enough strength to feel my fingers press into his flesh. But also I felt him resist. Felt his glutes begin to almost crush my cock with their power. Fuck he was growing stronger, much stronger as his nectar kicked in. He squeezed and pressed me into the wall. I felt myself unable to resist him as I was pushed against the wood and as it split against me. This time I squeezed his neck again and I began to apply all the force I could. My arm pressed against his where he held me and I fought back. Fought against his quads as they crushed my waist and thighs. Fought his arm holding mine down. Fought against his glutes crushing my tool. Deep from his chest came a growl, low and pulsing but growing louder as he fought back. The two of us in a struggle. I felt the power of that nectar feeding us both. Growing us. But deep within, from its slumber, I felt the dragon rise. That unstoppable force that had so fully possessed me earlier in the mountain and afterwards. It flooded my veins as the bear’s nectar fed my muscle. Each source of strength complementing my own natural power. I felt it like a supernova and I broke his hold. Now I grabbed him. His quads no longer crushed me but instead his squeezing of my muscle was forcing it to grow. I now controlled him and I pulled and pushed him on my cock until he became a sort of fucktoy. Using him until he came panting against my slippery abs and his head fell back spent. I knew then that he had wasted all that he had in that last struggle for dominance. But it was too little, too late. And I came inside then. Claiming his ass for my cock once and for all. As he lay there exhausted I got up, cock still hard, and explored the caves. They ran deep into the mountain and opened into massive chambers. Each dark and grand. When I returned from deep within the mountain I stopped and grabbed some of the barrels, drinking the sweet juice until I was choking on it. It just aroused me even further and I fucked him and fucked him. Although he wanted more, I claimed all the barrels for my own and took ownership of his ass for days. Forcing him to service me as I grew. On the last night, as he lay exhausted and I lay stroking my still hard cock, I finally drifted off to sleep. Strange dreams, disturbing, pulling at me and trying to rouse me. With a roar, I awoke suddenly and found bear looking at me. He’d once seemed so big, but now he felt smaller than ever in my arms. "What’s wrong pup?" His voice was tinged with concern. I pulled him tightly to my chest, realising it was for the last time. For now at any rate. "I remember." * * * I wasn’t sure how long I had been with bear. The days had sort of merged together. But down in the valley I could still see a couple vehicles and tents. I knew it was Mack. Around my waist I’d wrapped a large rug to form a sort of kilt. Where I’d been with bear we’d had no need of clothes, but now that I was back in the real world – or at least what passed for it to me – I knew I needed to pull it together and civilize myself again. Mack had seen me coming and he came out to greet me. Jack was with him. Mack’s face was a mask of worry, but he didn’t need to say anything. One look told me everything he wanted to ask. "I’m okay Mack." I said, seeking to reassure him. But my response didn't look like it reassured him. Jack on the other hand was looking as big as he’d ever done. There was no fear in his eyes. He whistled at me. "Fuck," he said appreciatively, drinking in my body. "You’re abso-fucking-lutely ginormous!" That’s when I realised that I was indeed looking down at Jack. I dwarfed him in every way. Mack too. I guess I’d gotten so used to outgrowing bear that way that I’d forgotten I didn’t always used to be this big. "It’s a long story." “Well laddie, you best get to telling it. You’ve been gone for three weeks and I was just about to give up hope. You went wild after Myles gave you that shot and we tried to track your movement, but we lost you when you came up out of the mine. Everyone else has gone, but Myles is still tracking Fong and his associates. They’ve gone to Eastern Europe. We’re not sure where Bill is. We’re worried about what further experiments they may be doing.” “All right then,” I breathed. “Maybe it’s time for a second shot?” Read the Next Part
  5. The Labours of Hugh By Chip Masterson For the Seigneur de M. “My God, what is that beast?” My master and I stood in awe as we watched a lone man carry an entire butt of beer on his back and gently drop it in place. You could hear it slosh - a thousand pounds of beer carried as lightly as a side of beef! But what looked like a man – or the absolute ideal of what a man could be – had the face of boy no older than I. His downy face looked untouched by a razor, yet the width of his shoulders rivaled every champion assembled here, with helmet-sized shoulders and chest muscles as thick as a man’s torso. His bare arms dwarfed my skinny legs, yet his waist, carved into grooves like a cathedral column, was flatter than mine. His legs were covered with several boar-hides stitched together, and with calves pushing them up like a giant’s fists. As he turned to leave, I could see he was so thick from the front edge of his chest to the highest peaks on his back, that if I were to stand with my back against his arm, his torso breadth would my shoulder-width. That back! A dozen crevices zigzagged among the humped cobbles and stony plateaus, undulating and transforming like a landscape in a dream. I pinched myself – I was awake. My master, Sir Alain, a knight of the royal court, had come to Chateaulin bearing the king’s congratulations to Count Houel on the birth of his second son. The Count was throwing a birth festival before hosting the folkmoot, and my master had entered the lists. He was speaking with the Marshal of the castle, Sir Geoff. Sir Geoff looked amused by our gawking. “That’s Hugh, one of my boys,” Sir Geoff explained. “He’s about the age of your boy here.” “Impossible!” Sir Alain sputtered. “I’ve seen quarry workers who couldn’t rival him for size!” “I rescued him after his parents exposed him in the woods,” Sir Geoff continued. “I soon discovered why – when he became impatient for food or cleaning, he smashed his crib to splinters with his tiny newborn fists. They feared raising a prodigy, but in some way, I felt commanded to care for him – I guessed then it was the voice of God, but now….” He paused, and changed course. “He’s very lonely – the other boys avoid him. He spends a great deal of time hunting alone in the forest.” “The Count allows a boy in the chase?” Sir Alain sustained shock after shock, and he hadn’t even mounted his steed yet. “The Count and all the farmers are grateful,” Sir Geoff explained. “Since he began entering the forest, we haven’t seen or heard a single wolf – it’s been years now. He eats like several men, and I can hardly increase his rations in front of the other boys, so he supplements his hunger with boars and other things he catches with his hands. The husbandmen even give him a portion of meat at every slaughter in thanks for his protection. It’s almost pagan,” Geoff added with a wry smile. “What a remarkable warrior he would be,” Sir Alain marveled, “if only he had a better station, and not born for the front line. Robert Guiscard could take all of Italy and drive Emperor Constantine into the arms of the Turks. But perhaps the work of a beast is a more fitting utilization of his unique – talents – after all. Providence is never wrong.” Sir Geoff looked at him sideways with his arms crossed, and said nothing. Soon we were preparing for the joust, a new form where, instead of a mass charge around the field, two knights face each other one-on-one and try not to get killed. I was nervous as a girl, though only King Philip could beat my master (though “beat” might not be a completely accurate description of what actually happened). My master was called against Sir Geoff and the knights rode out, the sunlight dancing off their shiny mail hauberks. They leveled their lances, and at the signal, charged. Almost immediately a strap on Sir Geoff’s saddle broke and he wobbled – but through his narrow visor, my master must not have noticed. Geoff couldn’t brace himself for a thrust and my master glanced a blow off his shoulder that sent Geoff spinning through the air and landing with a hearty smack. Everyone rose in silent suspense. My master had already turned about, still not realizing what had happened, not seeing see Geoff’s boys rush to his aid, . He began his parade – but a spur only jostled him in his saddle – his horse neighed but didn’t move. He kicked again but his mount’s effort to spring only resulting in it being pulled back into the air. My master dropped onto his back in the mud. Stunned, Alain looked up and saw Hugh holding his horse by the tail, fury etched into his handsome young face. “A strap broke – it wasn’t far, you should have stopped!” Hugh yelled – a shocking breach of order. My master flailed but couldn’t rise. My fellow knaves hesitated at the sight of Hugh – only I had quickly sprinted over – so Hugh cheekily slid his arm underneath my masters and effortlessly pulled him to his feet. They were the same height – maybe Hugh was my age, but he was easily a foot taller. “Apologize at once!” Hugh demanded, pressing his chest forward and making my master step awkwardly back. The audience gasped again at these unprecedented offenses, the Count himself shocked speechless. Instinctively raising his shield against Hugh’s “well-armed” aggression, Alain glared past him, glaring at a helmetless Geoff, who winced as boys removed his armor. “Sir, control your boy before his unseemly pride proves fatal!” Whether the threat irked Hugh more than being ignored, I’ll never know, but I saw Hugh’s jaw clench. In a blur, his arm sprang into the air, parallel with the ground, and punched my master’s shield in a quick, efficiently lethal motion – as if my master were livestock for slaughtering. Alain stumbled backward, sucking for air – the blow had split his shield and the horribly dented steel boss had torn the leather hide, sliced through the mail and sunk into Alain’s chest. The leather hide covering the shield trapped his strapped arms – he couldn’t breathe, and couldn’t pull it off. He fell on his knees, stunned and bleeding. The boys huddled in terror so I pleaded with Hugh, “Help him! He’s dying!” Rage melted from Hugh’s face like a passing storm and he realized with alarm what his immeasurable power had done – and to a man ostensibly his “better.” Hugh grabbed each side of the shield and wrenched them apart, shredding the hide covering and exposing the boss. He pulled that out and blood spurted against his face. He put his fingers into the mail and ripped it open like rotten cloth, pressing on the wound to staunch the flow until my fellows braved his proximity and aided our master. The doctor rushed forward, relieved that he could bind the wound without having the remove the mail shirt first. Count Houel rose imperiously and called for Geoff. I couldn’t hear what they said, but Geoff kept nodding and Houel furiously pounded his fist in his palm. Hugh stood a few feet from me with his head down. I smelled something sweet and salty I couldn’t quite place – I closed my eyes and it tickled the back of my mind. Like a memory I haven’t lived yet. I’d secretly taken the twisted and torn boss, and now surreptitiously fingered it behind my back – feeling the shape of his knuckles where they turned it inside-out, the warped edge that had torn and hurt him it should be protecting. Fortunately it missed his heart and lungs – but it’s the kind of scar you want from battle – not from a boy’s fist. Geoff went to Alain first, confirming the punishment, then came over and placed his hand on Hugh’s shoulder. His hand rose and fell like a rowboat at sea as Hugh breathed. Hugh nodded and walked around the center rail. A riffle disturbed the female stands, back and forth like a cauldron being stirred. Two big yoked draft horses were brought out and I understood what Hugh faced. I dropped to my knee beside my master and said, “Please, my lord, please spare his life! I’m sure he can be reformed! I believe he can do anything, anything he sets his mind to.” Alain patted my arm. “We’re only frightening him with what will happen if he doesn’t learn his place. The ostlers won’t let him get hurt. Too badly.” As I helped him into chair, I heard Hugh say, “What about my other arm?” My balls tingled. I shifted from foot to foot as a strange irritation grew in my groin. Two more horses were brought up from the stable. Hugh stuck out his arms, releasing feral tangles of reddish-gold curls sprouting beneath them and spraying a mist of sweat. With ropes, the ostlers lashed Hugh’s wrists to the yokes. Then, to guarantee the horses wouldn’t bolt and kill him, their bridles were lashed to the corners of the court, with enough slack that they could apply a torturous pressure that would remind Hugh of his place in the future. The horses fidgeted nervously, nostrils flaring and hooves kneading the dirt. Houel made an angry speech about honor and respect, but sensing a universal impatience, yielded Alain the field. Alain lifted his hand, and dropped it wearily. The ostlers promptly goaded the horses forward. The ropes leading from Hugh’s wrists twisted, but so did the ropes between his wrists and shoulders – his arms that almost dwarfed the haunches of the horses themselves. Each horse took several steps before its hooves slid against the dirt. Alain nodded again and the ostlers urged the horses harder – but the beasts could only lean into their bridles until the effort made them shake. Hugh stared at a point in the sky, his torso rising and falling, his legs planted like oaks. The stable boys urged the horses forward, but their legs could only dig grooves in the ground. Hugh turned his arms slightly, aligning his heaped shoulders with the winglike flare of his back, and refused to move. A sheen of sweat dappled the burnished golden down covering him, and I caught that sweet, wild scent stirring me – though there was no breeze. I realized it came from under Hugh’s arms. The horses smelled something different – their nostrils flared and with a single shriek, they bolted – or rather, attempted it. Hugh panicked at the sound and tensed his arms – two horses stumbled onto their forelegs. Hugh bolted them all in place. His hands gripped the ropes with white knuckles and his unexpected restraint multiplied panic into terror. The horses threw themselves against the ropes, bucking and springing, but only rising straight up instead of forward. The teams danced side to side, seeking any advantage over the terrible weight that pinned them down – and Hugh, squinting, jerked the ropes tight and stopped their dancing. Hugh pulled his shoulder blades together, his flesh humping and squeezing together. This dragged the horses backwards, and they screamed and stamped the ground in fear and fury. Hugh bent his elbows, tightening his arm muscles, and sixteen hooves skidded toward him half a metre. His hands twisted and he gripped the rope farther along, pulling it toward him as his swollen arms turned purple with veins. Though only half-bent, the meat of his forearms pressed against his bulbous upper arms. The horses’ eyes rolled with panic, their mouths frothing and chomping their bits. Hugh closed his eyes and, swaying side to side as he absorbed the animals’ combined efforts, raised his fists higher and brought them closer together. The reins to the court posts tautened and, as the audience gawped in amazement, the horses themselves rose off the ground and floundered, writhing helplessly in mid-air. Hugh twisted the rope again and drew more into his relentless fingers, his chest rippling with dents and ridges as he fought to bring his fists together, lungs heaving. The animals twisted as they stretched between the posts and Hugh, their shrieks strangled by the pressure into hoarse gasps of desperation. Urine and shit poured out of each animal as Hugh’s inexorable hands reached for each other. A shocking crack of splitting timbers shook the stands as the posts gave way – but not enough. A groan like stretching leather was followed with a horribly wet FWWWWUMMMPPPPP! Hugh’s fists knocked against each other – because his arms had ripped four horses apart, spewing blood and gore over his rounded masses and into the crowd. The torn torsos flew towards him and clumped into the dirt while the head-half rebounded into stands. Some people screamed and ran but some couldn’t move, shaking or trembling. Flushed with victory, Hugh smiled broadly and quickly shredded his rope. He opened his eyes and saw with disbelief what carnage his arms had wrought. His skin glowing and his entire body heaved for air, a weird pride surmounting the grotesquerie. Young maidens surged from the stands, yammering and gazing devotedly at him. Pleased (and a little stunned), he flexed his arms and the girls caught their breath – a couple swooned. The bush-covered, deep round pocket that sank between his back and chest and smelled warm and inviting. One bold lass reached out to touch him, giggling, her fingers flying back as if burned. “It’s okay,” Hugh said. “I can make it bigger.” Hugh began pumping his arms, and muscles still swollen from the struggle turned from red to violet, with blue veins snaking under the skin. Each pump expanded his arms got bigger, until their round shape changed and a second peaked cap rose above the bulk. The maidens were all modestly attired – not a bosom in sight – and yet his presence, his heat, his scent compelled their hands to reach for him, regardless of propriety. Several of the girls swarmed around him, their fingers exploring his physique as they might a statue of Hercules. With a huge smile, Hugh dropped his arms and thrust out his chest, letting them uselessly poke their fingers into its obdurate surface, feel its edges and contours. I could see it dawning on their astonished faces how Hugh’s living flesh mocked the so-called armor of the knights. As their fingertips traced the arabesque of ridges in his back, I could also see a single pulse along one leg of his trousers. Hugh’s own eyes now brightened as the fawning girls sparked pleasure in his man-parts, which in turn shadowed his handsome face with anxiety. Despite his advance development, I guessed he’d always used his arms and legs as tools, never experienced a rush of triumphant potency flooding his limbs, then reaching beyond them and enthralling the opposite sex. The girls’ desire sparked lightning which flowed through his muscles to his manhood, forever fusing sexual arousal with displaying his body and exerting his strength. As if he were entirely a living erection. A savage bellow erupted from suddenly jostling shrubbery and in a cloud of dust, a massive bull appeared, its nose bloody where it ripped away from its ring. The girls shrieked and fled, many simply crouching behind Hugh. The bull faced Hugh and pawed the ground, challenging him. I heard my master say, “There’s something in Hugh’s sweat that disturbs stallions and bulls alike. It maddened those horses, and now our bull senses his dominance threatened.” Before anyone could move, the bull lowered its broad head and charged, lance-sharp horns swinging wildly. Hugh growled back and actually ran at the bull, bulging arms cocked and ready to spring. They met in a thunderclap of bone striking bone-hard muscle as Hugh slammed his chest against the bull’s skull. Each animal bounced back from the impact, the bull staggering with its tongue out. Hugh recovered first and grabbed the horns low. Digging his mighty legs into the soft earth, he shoved the bull’s skidding hooves back, away from the stands. But the bull seemed locked on his enemy – it swung and shook its huge head – or attempted to. Hugh grunted and rocked sideways; his shoulders turning ominously toward the beast, each like a head sprouting a thicker horn. The bull bucked his head until Hugh slowly, steadily, unmercifully slowed it into immobility. The bull pulled back and twisted its thick neck the other way – but Hugh twisted his wrists and raised his elbows, checking its progress and holding it tight. With a strained groan, Hugh forced the shuddering head back up. The bull tried to toss Hugh up into the air but Hugh’s grip held it like tar. With a war cry, Hugh exploded and slammed the bull’s head down against the ground. Angered, stunned, the bull leaped forward – but didn’t get far. Hugh’s shoulders sank back, soaking up the bull’s strength and then driving it back out against the animal with greater force. In quick bursts Hugh thrust the bull back; its set hooves trenched the earth which could not withstand Hugh’s power. Trapped in superior hands – Hugh utterly controlled the head, defying the animal’s every twitch – the animal’s eyes rolled and its bellows rose in broken cries of disbelief. The crowd cheered to see this boy-man tame a bull bare-handed – so Hugh grinned and raised one fist into the air … and contained the bestial violence with one hand! The crowd’s deafening praise drowned out the bull’s chest-rumbling fury, its rippling shoulder and haunches quivering, shaking – impotent. Squealing with rage, the bull jabbed its free horn a few centimetres at Hugh. The boy brought his free fist down on the bull’s head. A crack like lightning splitting a tree shocked everyone to silence. Hugh struck the bull again, his knuckles smacking into the densest part between the horns. The bull’s knees buckled and drool looped out of its mouth. One more THWOKKK and the bull dropped flat. Shaking out his hand while the crowd cheered, Hugh walked around and stuck his arms under the bull’s belly. In one swift move he lifted the enormous beast up against his chest … and then his arms pressed it up over his head. He dropped it once against his own stony shoulders and the bull guttered an exhausted wheeze. He lifted the pull again and repeated the drop, the impact making the bull’s head loll. Finally Hugh lifted the bull over his head and carried it around the arena, giving everyone a close look before he SLAMMED it against the ground, its legs splayed out like petals. The impact clattered weapons in their racks, and some of the ladies lost their balance. The bull lay perfectly still so Hugh slapped its face several times to see if he had killed it with one fist. The bull opened its eyes, saw Hugh, licked Hugh’s hand and rolled over on its back, its enormous male-part exposed, red and glistening. Hugh held both hands over his head again like a champ. Under the crowd’s cheers I heard my master mutter, “That bull will never stud again.” “Young knave,” announced Houel once ordered was restored, “God and Fortune have placed you in the lowest estate, in which your earlier offenses to Sir Alain are unpardonable. And yet your manly vigor and dauntless courage indicate a nobler origin, one in which your outburst would not only be unexceptional, but possibly demanded as a point of honor. With your parentage unknown, we may never know the truth – except through your honorable and obedient actions henceforth. I bid you to mind your tongue and temper, obey my vassal Sir Geoff in all things, and your God-thewn limbs may one day raise you to an estate commensurate with your valor.” The Count then turned to the events planned for after noon dinner, but my eyes were drawn to his left arm, which had disappeared behind his back. It appeared to be rhythmically twisting back and forth – or rather, in and out – as he spoke of Hugh. I doubt anyone else noticed – all eyes remained on the smiling hero, his cowed bull; Hugh’s innocent freckles belied a ferocity lurking underneath. I had to see to my master’s horse. Hugh led me to the stable, saying eagerly, “You need to clean the hooves, right?” he asked me. Before I could so much as unstrap the saddle, Hugh ducked underneath the stallion and lifted him over his head – this after so many exertions already! The horse panicked at first, but Hugh’s deep voice and commanding presence calmed it – I even saw the head of its maleness peeking out, as with the bull. My own trousers felt heavy and tight and I stood riveted before the column of living power before me. “Well, go on!” he said. “I’m hungry!” I grabbed a pick and indulged in cleaning each hoof without bending over – I barely had to move the stallion’s legs. When I indicated I was done – I had no voice – Hugh gently put the horse down and deftly unbuckled the tack, which he effortlessly carried, saddle in one hand and all the dressings in the other, to a bench and rack against the wall. When he came back, he asked if he could brush the animal instead. “I didn’t like hurting those horses before, or the bull,” he said sheepishly. “Something just came over me I can’t put into words – like when I’m hunting. I’m usually gentle here.” He wielded the brush like a pro, the stallion responding with shivers and affectionate nudges – one animal acknowledging the superior protection and care of another. I marveled, not for the first time, how some animals sense danger in his aroma, while others are soothed … and aroused. Hugh ate separately from the other boys, who swarmed around the young squire. The noble boy kept looking at Hugh with jealousy, but managed to captivate the other boys with tales of court love affairs and adventures. Only one boy looked our way … and he too looked jealous when he caught my eye. Hugh finished his portion of stew before I had barely begun, and fetched a bag full of preserved meats from his stash. The rough burlap had his name crudely embroidered on it, and while I finished my plate, the boy-man devoured several hunks of dried meat, teeth ripping the hard flesh apart with animal hunger. The morning’s excitement, and being both full and so near Hugh’s humid heat, made me long for a nap. But Hugh jumped up and dragged me with an iron grip out to watch the afternoon events. When prizes were awarded, everyone looked at Hugh as if they knew he deserved not only the top prize, but the whole array of jewelry. The winners too seemed abashed, even my master, who came in third overall and got a beautiful golden torque with three emeralds. I noted that, though decorative, it could fit his neck – but not Hugh’s. I had to attend my master at dinner and eat with the other boys, but when we were dismissed, I left them and went back to the stable. He brightened like dawn when he saw me – his new friend – and we went outside and sat on a stone in the cool evening. Without a word, he draped his heavy arm around my shoulders and I stiffened to support its weight. After watching the stars come out in companionable silence, he yawned like a lion and guided me to his lonely straw pallet, away from the boys on the other side of the animal stalls. Hugh dropped his trousers pulled off his loin cloth, sniffed it, nodded and put it back on. His virile member swung away like a pendulum – but most remarkably, it was utterly smooth. I had thought, given the maturity of his armpits, that he’d be woolly below as well – but that growth had not yet started, it seemed, no more than his beard. How poised between two worlds he seemed, striding them both like the Colossus of Rhodes. Unexpectedly, I felt fear sleeping next to a creature so powerful and, worried he might crush me in his sleep (or in a bear-hugging dream), I curled into a tight ball on the edge of the mat. The night turned frigid and a howling wind whipped around the stable. But Hugh burned like a fully-stoked furnace, his pale skin radiant. I heard him say, “Are you afraid of me too?” I rolled over and, shivering, told him, “I didn’t think I was, but suddenly I felt very tiny.” He looked hurt and said, “I never hurt little creatures. That would be terrible. I don’t even step on worms after it rains.” He extended his arm and I wormed closer, his heat like a heavy woolen blanket embracing me. My head was smaller than the pillow of his arm, not stony at all but firm and, in some way, compelling and safe. He saw the arch in my loincloth and looked around excitedly – “Did girls sneak in?” When he realized we were alone, he sighed and said, “Oh, you’re like Ralph. Ralph was my friend until the others turned him against me.” “Nothing could ever turn me against you!” I blurted out. “I would pledge myself to you as your vassal forever, here and now, if you could take me.” He giggled at the ridiculous thought but nestled happily against me. “You can touch them, if you want,” he said quietly. “I never used to like it when Ralph did it, but today it felt different – all those girls’ hands. I don’t know what I felt. I sure liked it though.” “You’ve never been with a girl?” I asked in amazement, assuming he’d plowed wide and deep. He shook his head. “My master told me the story of Samson, but the truth was, his hair was a symbol of the other thing that grows out of a man. And when he lay with Delilah, she took his essence – so he became weak, her weak slave.” I realized Geoff must have been afraid of what Hugh’s youthful exuberance might do to a tender girl – or grown woman, or sheep or cow. I said nothing and placed my hand on his belly, which ran beneath my fingers like hot bricks on a cooking hearth. I explored the heavy bulk beneath his smooth skin, not clench into stones but full of rumbling threat, rising and falling with his breath. It felt like a city street brought to life, the cobbles able to yield or harden at will. My hand crept up to where his chest rose up like an escarpment – though he lay flat on his back! – and spread like wings to either side. I could barely reach over his chest and rub the solid mound of his shoulder, and stroke the junction where his chest and arm came together like the stanchion of a rope bridge. He raised his forearm and drew my face in his humid armpit. Though I wasn’t nearly finished exploring his manly terrain, the heat and sweet pit-fumes and soft tickling hairs overwhelmed me and I shot my seed in several fierce spurts, my whole being jerking and one foot cramping up. I don’t know if he noticed, but he didn’t let me go – I think he’d already fallen asleep. My release, after the day’s events, left me empty and I too slept in his dark musky chamber. I awoke before dawn – Hugh was already at his chores. Duke Conan would be arriving this morning to begin the folkmoot (there’s quite a queue of gripers this time around, I hear), and the great entertainments would continue, including a troupe of acrobatic Prussian dwarves said to be astounding and funny. A post rider ripped by us and headed straight into the castle. Word went around that we were to assemble, and soon Count Houel mounted the rampart along with by Sir Geoff and the seneschal, an old man, called for everyone’s attention. “My esteemed brother-in-law, Conan Duke of Bretagne,” Houel announced, “shall arrive presently – yes, yay, quiet, quiet! – and he sends ahead not only his salutations – please, quiet! – but also a demand: William, Duke of Normandy, has taken Maine - yes, an outrage! – and our lord expects Normandy shall enter our lands as well, with or without invitation. Every able-bodied man of service age is to immediately prepare for a dress inspection with what weapons and armor he is able to supply, so that we may assess the state of our defense and prepare accordingly. We shall gather again an hour before dinner ready for war and our lord’s review.” He clapped his gauntlets and hell erupted as everyone leapt pall-mall to get home and dust/shine what rusty pieces of tin may decorate their mantels. The Bretons hadn’t seen much action in recent years other than border skirmishes here and there. Now local politics had now thrown Bretagne’s scent under William’s nose and he was chasing it down like the dog of war he is. For armor, the knaves generally tussled over left-overs and scraps from the smithies, but nothing fit Hugh. An older boy remembered an unusually stout squire many years ago who had left mail behind. It was out of style but I doubt anyone would notice that, if it fit. Hugh had to borrow a tunic from the blacksmith – he rarely wore a shirt of any sort. I spread tallow over the arms and shoulders of the borrowed tunic, trying not to linger in the all the rippling valleys and crests which thrummed like volcanos even while relaxed. I and three other boys then lowered the hauberk over his head. We could have restyled the hauberk, repositioning the giant belly links to Hugh’s shoulders where they were needed, but we hadn’t time. We jerked and yanked hung our entire weight off the armor, squeezing it around the outcroppings his his chest, shoulders and back. It hung loose halfway down his midsection and when he put down his arms, the sleeves didn’t quite reach the elbow. The coif fit fine over his head but was tight around his neck, and spread only partly as far over his upper torso as it was designed to. He started breathing fast in the constricting armor, the clinking links rattling with each breath oddly disturbing, if musical. He could barely move in any direction and looked as stiff as a giant wearing a doll’s costume. We watched in awe as the many war machines were wheeled out and lined up for demonstrations. Somehow, I thought Hugh more impressive than they. By the time Duke Conan arrived, all the pomp and ritual left us sweating in the sun, knees trembling from the weight of unaccustomed armor. A couple boys passed out, clattering to the ground, but Hugh looked fine – confined, sweatily pungeant, but unaffected by the heat. While reviewing us, Conan blinked several times when he came to Hugh. “You there, come forward,” Conan ordered. Hugh walked stiffly forward. “How can you fight? It looks like you can barely move.” Knowing he had erred in not previously providing Hugh with suitable armor in case of war – so rare was fighting in these parts – Geoff piped up and said, “He’s had a growth spurt recently and his armor is actually at the blacksmith’s for alterations--” Duke Conan silenced him, eyes glued to Hugh, and said, “I was speaking to the … boy.” He walked around Hugh, suppressing a sigh at the span from side to side, and front to back. He actually ran his fingers across Hugh’s upper back to test if this was some kind of prank. I don’t think he could tell where the steel stopped and Hugh began. Suspicious, perhaps, that beneath the tunic was steel casing of some kind – perhaps plated armor (Houel could hardly afford to fit his entire levy in plate – no one could), Conan came around and ordered Hugh to raise his arms. Then he cocked his ear, listening closely. Hugh raised his arms straight out the side. The links squirmed noisily as the hard surface below changed shape. The entire hauberk rode up several inches. “Now throw your arm back and bend it as if you were going to throw a spear.” Hugh got his arm half-way back when he got stuck. Conan exchanged a dark look with Count Houel and Hugh wiggled his torso, shifting several more belly inches up around his chest so he could move his arm all the way back. As he half-bent his arm, the links twisted and flattened around it. “Make a muscle,” Conan ordered. Hugh obliged. Hugh tightened his fist made his sinews expand, higher and wider. The mail exploded, shooting fragments of steel in both directions. The other warriors yelled and shielded themselves from the painful missiles. The Duke blinked and saw the pale reddened mound surmounting through the shattered mail, splitting the tunic as Hugh made it bigger … and bigger … and bigger still … and with a final straining grin, created two peaks and peppered us with several more links. Hugh looked eagerly at Conan for approval, but Conan simply stood there with his mouth open. So Hugh, thinking the Duke wanted to see more, held out his other arm and flexed it fully-extended. The chain mail tightened noisily while the meat of his back-arm jutted out … getting rounder … bigger … until it shamed the upper arms of most men and held the links at maximum tautness. His front-arm resembled rose in a long arch, trembling a moment against the links until they popped in the middle and ripped open, exposing the deep crevice between the two halves. Hugh then flexed his arm to match, possibly outdo, his other arm – and the mail and tunic obediently tore apart deep into the pit and over the dragon-claw undulations of his shoulder. He stood there, showing off his two beauties, and several women fainted. Female sighs and moans (or I should say, high-pitched sounds – not limited to females) sang through the assembly as he put his hands on his hips. At the same time, he moved his elbows out and widened his back in stages, left to right, left to right, so you could see his it from the front! The links chinked and jumped, the bottom rising higher and higher up his torso … and then Hugh bounced his chest muscles back and forth. Twisted steel shards blew off his chest and showered down on the crowd, often drawing blood. Even the Duke was not immune but nobody stopped him, watching him in rapt awe. Pulling his shoulders forward, he split the hauberk down the sides, tearing steel like old cloth. Strips of unhinged metal flowed off his body like oil. He kept on popping all his muscles until he reduced the tattered armor to old fringe hanging off the coif. For a moment, I felt a communal urge to spontaneously kneel. But Conan’s eyes shone avidly, and he clapped his hands together. He turned toward a pavilion set up for dinner and ordered, “Clear away the food and bring that banquet table up onto the dais. Right up there,” Conan pointed. As servants scurried, I heard him say to Houel, “I think we have a secret weapon against Normandy right here. I will test of his capacities.” Turning to Hugh, he intoned, “Young knave, come forward and show us your pith.” “Please, sire,” Hugh said, bowing and coloring deeply, “I’ve done enough lately, and it makes the other boys – they’re scared of me. I don’t want to scare people anymore.” “It’s not a request, boy!” Conan thundered. “You will do as commanded or face the consequences.” A nod from Geoff removed his objection and he nodded his obedience. Obviously the Duke hadn’t been informed about the bloodbath yesterday’s “consequences” turned into. It took four straining, huffing servants to trundle over the enormous oak-plank table over the uneven ground. While they struggled with the empty table, Hugh pulled off the coif, his arm nearly pressing against his face, and stripped off the remnants of mail and tunic. A flock of girls surrounded him, rubbing shreds of tallow-covered tunic into his white, perfect skin with a fervid devotion that would make the saints jealous. Others caressed his chest and several explored his back. Three or four of them gripped his arms and he suddenly raised them to his sides, the girls hanging off like pennants and giggling with feverish delight. He showed off how his arms charged shape, raising and lowering the girls with only the granite peaks. They swung back and forth but he stood solid as a Maypole. A couple dropped to caress his legs through the boar hides but that alarmed the ancient seneschal, who hobbled over with a loud bell and shooed them all away. The table arrived at the said, but the servants were too exhausted to lift it up the step, so four fresh servants came and heaved, fumbling, with all their might. Duke Conan grinned and commanded, “Everyone - remove your armor and pile it onto the table!” Geoff sent the dwarf troupe over to help, and as boys helped free their masters and shucked their own hauberks, the dwarves made a clever show of passing it along and, climbing upon each other’s shoulders, layering the mail and helmets with exaggerated artistry. The boards of the platform groaned and popped as the weight increased, and increased further. Just when I thought I heard the table complain as well, Conan called a halt, and ordered two goblets to be filled with wine and set at either end of the table. Reaching into a pocket inside his sleeve, Conan pulled out a small cross, gold with garnets and pearls. “If young … young …” (a servant whispered to him) “young knave Hugh can lift this table into the air without spilling so much as a drop of wine from either goblet, I will entrust his master with this, my own devotional cross, to secure his education and his future needs.” A collective gasp went up – knaves were not allowed to own gold. To have a small treasure in trust for the future was unheard of. Conan either doubted Hugh could combine vigor with dexterity and endurance … or he prayed for it with all his soul. Geoff caught Hugh’s shoulder and whispered, “Remember – when you move things quickly then stop, anything not tied down will keep moving. Slow and steady.” I could see Hugh reining his enthusiasm by the set of his jaw. He leapt onto the dais from a stand and surveyed he table from various angles. The platform cricked underneath Hugh’s feet as he circled – the links of armor tinkled and flared in the sun. His additional weight severely stressed a dais constructed to hold a dozen men. The table sported a pair of stout columns carved with spiraling grooves at each end, braced by an inconvenient trestle running the nearly three-metre length of the bankette. And undulating terrain of steel rose in layers above his head. The goblets were nearly brimful. The trestle would get caught between his legs if he straddled it – he’d never get it all the way. I saw now Conan’s strategy – not simply testing Hugh’s brawn, but his strategic thinking and adaptability. And any solution would require more than simple pith. He went around to the back so all we could see was Hugh’s bent, boar-hide covered legs under the table – the armor pile fully obscured him. He squatted and extended his arms at angles underneath. Then he straightened his legs: and the table rose steadily off the platform. Cries of awe and disbelief rifled through the crowd. The platform sank beneath his feet, the wood barking loudly. Widening his stance, Hugh seemed to drop his shoulders and press up from underneath – the towering steel swayed and flashed in the sun. He edged one foot in front of the other, boards sagging loudly from the concentrated weight. Finally, the bottom of his chest-shelf caught against the trestle. He took several deep breaths while everyone else held theirs. In one smooth movement, he powered the creaking table out and up into the air, slipped his head underneath it and shifting his hands to align with the corners for stability. A loud POPPPP! burst from the platform, which bounced dangerously beneath him. One of the builders caught his attention with a glinting knife, and pointed out where the joists were. With a grateful smile (me: jealous), Hugh slowly spread his legs until they rested on the cross-supports. Thicker trusses protested at such punishment – when it was covered with chairs and people, the platform had been silent, solid as the earth – but they took the stress. He whipped his back leg forward and the swirl of interlocking sinews that rose from his waist and twisted around each other to brace the expanse of his upper torso made the carved pillars at the table’s ends look puny. Plus, how such a narrow, flat and tightly-coiled abdomen could rise and moor the broad clustered beef that anchored his oak-branch arms … it defied belief. No blubbery “strongman” rival such power, such beauty. Sweat trickled down the gullies and trenches of his man-flesh, and his groiny-salted scent wafted insensibly through the crowd. Men stirred unwittingly, uncomfortably, some angrily, while girls and women both undulated, their own bodies responding to Hugh’s proximity by lubricating their gyrations and stirring their desires. I felt my own ass and cock discharge an oily moisture as I wiped drool off my chin. Hugh turned his hands backwards and pressed the table high. The mountains of armor shifted slightly but the tremoring goblets stayed dry. As the trestle scraped against his belly – I half-expected to see shavings fall away as Hugh’s serrations carved the wood as it rose. But of course, the ladies had massaged enough cow fat into his skin that it slid easily past them. With his arms extending above his head, his chest bulged out so far out that Hugh pressed his his chin against the top of one to brace his neck. It did not dent. With a final grunt, he thrust and locked his elbows, the bole-thick knotted arms fitting into his shoulder and chest musculature like a complex war machine. The trestle caught on his overhanging chest and bent like a bow in that final thrust – I dug my nails into my legs, afraid the wood would crack. But the squawking wood held and a cheer went up all around. All except Conan, who’s intent face sweated as profusely as Hugh’s, and whose hips jerked violently, his entire body rigid. But Hugh wasn’t done defying our imaginations. Carefully, Hugh stepped to the end of the dais and dropped down onto the first step, bending his arms to keep the table level as he descended. The stair steps squeaked until he got nearly to the bottom, when one snapped with a BANG! Everyone jumped and yelled in fear for him. But Hugh took it in stride, smoothly following the drop while scrunching his body to keep the table level. He dropped his other foot onto the ground, and walked through the last, splintering steps and risers as if they were made of straw. He carried the table directly to Conan himself. Tension gripped the crowd – what was he going to do? For a moment, I felt a flash of panic - he would hurl the table and its contents onto the Duke and pronounce himself King, defying all challengers. I even saw Conan flinch, his guards fidgeting between the call of duty and the sudden will to flee. But Hugh merely lowered the table back down so that it hovered above the ground, and turned it sideways so Conan could observe, and remove, the first unspilled goblet without having to move himself. Then he kept turning, showing Conan and the audience the rippling contours of this back, which tremored in a rapid tattoo from the strain but never flagged from their labors. My eyes were drawn to the perfect globes capping his hide-clad legs - I wanted to grab them and pull him against me – or hang on while he pressed himself into me. But I shook those thoughts out of my head. Hugh stopped again so Conan could take the second goblet and verify that not a drop had spilled from it either. The he completed his circle and, his arms and shoulders beginning to quiver, he lowered the table to the ground as if presenting it as a gift to his lord. Hugh came around, issuing a hot wind of deep breaths and looking as though he could defy Samson and Hercules together. He dropped down on one knee before Conan, his head sinking beneath the rising plateaus of his back. Hugh could barely control his quavering musculature as he recovered from the punishing victory – he vibrated with effort and stilled himself, as he had the bull. In a cracked, hollow voice, Conan said, “Riiii--” He coughed drily, drank half a goblet down and sputtered, half-choking. With wine staining his chin, he said in a tight voice, “Rise, s- … m-my boy. Where is your m-m-master?” Geoff stepped forward, beaming with pride and relief. Conan gave Geoff the golden jeweled cross, and made him swear an oath on the blood of the Savior that that treasure should be used only to secure a future fit for man who will doubtless perform feats of great renown in the service of his lord and land. Again he crowd cheered and Hugh disappeared beneath a roiling female sea. Water, oil, food passed hand to hand through the crowd to care for him where he knelt, and Conan, feeling singularly ignored, stepped over the Houel and called Geoff and Alain to them. “I had thought to test your war machines against one of the menhirs in that field over there – but I think that, once he has fed and rested, we should test them against young Hugh. That will give us a greater idea of how we could deploy him against the machines of our enemies.” Geoff clearly wanted to protest – both the test and the “use” of Hugh in place of a giant rock simply went too far. But it was not his place, and turned away and prepared to speak with Hugh about what he still must do to fully earn the jeweled cross. Myself, I felt Hugh would love dominating the biggest, mightiest mechanisms created by man – if he were fresh. The last few days, he expended more puissance than a dozen or more grown men. Any failure due to fatigue could make him very angry. And I’d seen him angry – Hugh nearly killed an armored knight with one controlled half-punch through his shield. Even a days’ delay would restore him sufficiently. Worried for him, and the rest of us, I tried to tote up how many men would have to pool their strength to accomplish Hugh’s many feats – the horses followed by the bull, then lifting a horse, then chores chores chores; and chores the next morning before bursting armor and slowly lifting a weight that nearly destroyed the dais he stood on. I could see men falling in exhausting, others rushing to sustain an enterprise for which Hugh required no assistance. I felt dizzy – such potency in one boy-man violated every sense of reason and nature. It was a breach in the world, some supremacy stepping down from the world beyond and stretching human belief to its breaking point. I remembered Jacob had wrestled with an angel, and held it helpless in his arms for three solid days before the angel was able to treacherously injure Jacob’s hip, and escape ignominiously the patriarch’s iron grasp. If men have lived before who could dominate even the angels of God, then perhaps such a man could exist again – not a pagan mythical Hercules, but real man, created by God … perhaps to test our faith. See if we would worship the miracle worker or the one true God who made him. I prayed for guidance through this confusion … but my hands weren’t the only part of me pointing towards heaven. “Jealous?” Alain said, coming up behind me, making me jump. “Ah! Sir, uh, n-no…” I stuttered. He gently cuffed my head and gestured to where Hugh had moved to a couch and was being fed and massaged (or groped) by a hundred hands. “Someday you’ll have the girls pawing over you too,” he told me. “But I’m afraid today, no man here can compete with this shining prodigy.” Relief flooded me – he never suspected who I was jealous of…. Mid-afternoon, people stretching from naps re-assembled for the siege-engine demonstration. The first to be wheeled forward was a new battering ram. “In battle,” Geoff explained, “the roof would be covered with wet hides. Thirty metres long, it weighs over a tonne thanks to the iron head. We can fit thirty men on each side.” “That doesn’t look like a ram to me,” Conan said, peering at the head. “It looks like … a fist.” Houel glowed with pride. “That was my innovation. It’s more frightening, isn’t it? Like the fist of God knocking on the door.” Conan rolled his eyes and said sourly, “I think if Hugh stands on that rise over there, he’ll be in a position to test this … fingered thing.” While the engine was wheeled into place, Hugh eagerly ran over and put his hands on his hips. The shadows his wide shoulders and prominent chest cast over his stomach made the cobbles look truly like a stone wall … except that, while he waited, Hugh flexed and relaxed the individual cobbles and rolled his stomach like sea swells. Stone walls can’t do that. Geoff instructed the soldiers, “Let’s start slow – just you ten.” They positions and began swinging the chains faster, and faster, and faster. The heavy SWOOOOOSH through the air conveyed the speed and weight of the ram and for a moment, I seriously feared for Hugh: that ram could knock a bull out more efficiently than Hugh had. It could kill the bull at one blow. Had Hugh met his match? Soldiers swiftly pulled the brakes away while others shove and the machine lurched forward with its thick capped member extending obscenely. An ear-splitting SMAKKKKK! made us wince as the iron fist struck Hugh dead center in his belly. Hugh flew off his feet and the machine lurched backward, shoulders yelling from the shock that rattled their arms. Hugh landed on his shield-tough back several metres away and rutted the turf landing. He immediately sat up and waved he was unhurt, shaking his golden curls to clear his head. The soldiers however hobbled off the platform, gripping their forearms in each hand, faced carved in pain. “That was fun!” Hugh laughed before leaping straight up onto his feet. His stomach blazed angry scarlet beneath his pale freckled chest. He mock-punched himself and clowned like it really hurt, but then he grinned and, stretching side to side and back and forward, assumed his stance for round two. The crowd bubbled with murmuring like a pot nearing the boil – particularly on the ladies’ side. The men gave each other dirty looks at how openly their women displayed such rampant desires – an impotent rage, given their rival. Two dozen new soldiers replaced the first crew and exchanged nervous glances. Once again, the chains swung back and forth, gathering force. It seemed to gather the crowd as well – people swayed back and forth in rhythm, their excitement building along with the ram’s speed. They unleashed the engine with a violent rush and I hid behind my hands. A thunderclap braced the air as Hugh flew higher and faster and farther than before. The log shuddered to an astonished stop and many of the soldiers screamed and fell to the floor from an impact their joints weren’t designed to sustain. Hugh cut a trench through the field and he sank from view. Yet he hooted merrily and we knew that the ram had failed to hurt him again. Yet Conan frowned – I don’t think he expected Hugh to sail into the air, however unhurt he may be. Had he imagined an impossible spectacle? Had he hoped to insert Hugh between a ram and a besieged gate in the hopes of protecting the fortress with Hugh’s stronger build? Clearly that wouldn’t work. I looked at Geoff, who wore the same worried look as my master: an unhappy lord is more dangerous than any war engine. Yet I saw clearly what Conan overlooked: a ram’s force is transferred into the gate or wall, which cracks and weakens as that force flows through it. Hugh did not absorb that force – he repelled it. That’s why the shock surprised the soldiers and why the ram wobbled backwards. It was that repulsion, force being echoed away from Hugh, that propulsed him through the air. A gate made of such material would be impregnable. Hugh alone possessed such material. Again, I shivered, thinking of a living man who could harden himself beyond any other rock or metal in creation. A living man who let me touch him. Cheers and guffs of awe rose from the crowd as Hugh marched back to the frustrated machine, clods of soil falling off the harder bedrock of his back. Geoff rushed over, whispering urgently to him - Hugh smiled like the sun and nodded happily. The soldiers looked frightened. And this time, the ram was fully crowded with men. The crowd mirrored the swinging ram with their bodies, thrusting themselves forward and back in unwitting unison and urging some maximum test which could release their pent-up excitement. The huge log sliced through the air with a deepening WHOOOSH that beat fast and faster until the moment of its release: it sped forward and Hugh unexpectedly leaped at the iron head with his chest. The KKRRRAKKKKK! rang like a church bell breaking apart. Hugh dropped straight down while the entire engine bounce swiftly away from him, the men behind it jumping out of the way and the rowers flying off the sides. Hugh didn’t move. A frozen silence held the crowd until, as a single being, it raced forward. Hugh looked up and sucked in a mighty draught of air, shook his head and looked around, blinking. The crowd stopped, as if the living thing might become a dragon or griffin. A stunned look clouded his eyes – then they focused on the engine rolling to a slow stop, listed to the side where something broke, and all the men crawling away in pain. He remained crouching, catching his wind. Conan himself inspected the state of the ram. A split ran the entire length of the log – it slumped unevenly in its chain sling. Even more amazing, the top two “knuckles” of the fist had flattened slightly, deformed to the sides. “That’s solid iron,” Geoff said, mouth gaping. He turned back to Hugh. Some soldiers were helping him to his feet – he was so heavy it took three to a side and one in back, and they braced their legs jointly against him like buttresses until he steadied himself. He kept jerking his head, the death-knell of the fist still ringing. Geoff kept waving his fingers in front of Hugh’s eyes but the boy batted them gently away and said, in a firm voice I hadn’t heard him use before, “I’m done with having things run into me for a couple of days.” “The trebuchet is next,” Geoff said worriedly. “Shall I--” Hugh shook his head again with a sly grin. “I have different plans for it.” Geoff stepped back, momentarily alarmed by the forthright assurance Hugh now assumed. He walked around in circles, stretching and massaging his crimson chest. I pined to do it for him … and would have done, in front of everyone, had my master not sent me on an errand. His order felt like a dagger in my stomach. I ran quickly, gave a dispatch to a courier, and by the time I got back, the battered-ram had been trundled away and the trebuchet wheeled forward. Two men on each side grunted as they turned the wheels that ran the tackle and slowly raised the mass of iron-bound oak blocks into the air. Hugh wasted no time. “What are we going to do to this?” Conan asked eagerly. “You’ll see,” Hugh answered arrogantly - which seemed to excite Conan rather than offend him. Conan stepped back as Hugh walked behind it, put one foot on the arm resting on the ground, and signaled the drop. The weight crashed to the platform and Hugh roared like a bear as he bore down with his foot. A legging seam burst open, exposing a bovine thigh – and the pivot rod cracked. The entire beam smashed through the machine with an explosion of splinters. Hugh picked up the end and wrested it free, jostling and battering the entire machine. He placed the end of the arm across his shoulders behind his neck and, draping his outside arm over the top, raised the entire thing up parallel to the ground. Then he wrapped his other arm over it . . . snorted like a bull . . . and pulled. His back opened wide like angel wings, his stomach muscles meshed like the gears of the apparatus itself, and his arms filled every space with their compressed, pulsing meat. We heard him breathing heavily in the silence. Hugh’s face contorted in angry concentration, and his elbows dipped. The short length behind his neck actually bent, issuing a CREEEAAAK SNIK-SNIK-SNIK SNIK SNIK FRACCCKK! The heavy bar split open like a monster’s toothy maw. His outside arm pulled and then twisted the broken as Hugh broken bole until it tore away. He pulled more of the bar across his implacable back. One deep breath and again his face strained, pitting the obdurate ridges of his vein-studded neck. His arms too snaked with blue veins nearly tearing through his buttery red-splotched skin. The solid oak held out as long as it could until Hugh’s arms compelled it to shiver, quake and surrender. He kept going, snapping the bar into pieces without rest, his breathing hoarse, his tender boy’s face a mask of resolute destruction. By the time he fractured the last bit, his grimace bore a terrifying resemblance to some fairy-tale demon. Slivers and chips of wood dusted his hair and body from oak exploding under unbearable pressure. Beside him, a stack of logs ready for the fire. “Magnificent!” Conan declared, unable or unwilling to stop the gushing females who pawed his dauntless, bloated arms and reverently dusted splinters from the many crevices in his back and lodged in his hair. I got a tingling sensation in my groin that he’d tear the engine apart with his bare hands with so much admiration – and indeed, he jumped onto the counter-weight and, clinging to a cross-bar with his toes, grabbed an iron strap in each hand and pulled. The iron bent up a bit but stopped. Hugh jerked them hard and broke them free, happily bending them up and back. He dropped to the ground, dragging the tortured iron with him. Then, inspired, he dragged the freed lengths toward each other and began wrapping them around each other in a giant knot. Then he yanked two fresh sections loose, working the cold metal like it was toughened leather. Showing off, he held an arm rigid and folded the metal back over itself by simply turning his wrist, zig-zagging in with tight switchbacks. At the same time, his other arm rippled as it twisted the flat iron into a spiral. Conan coughed loudly and Hugh turned, glowing in the sun and gleaming with sweat. He had saved the most trying test for last. Hugh slugged down goblets of water and gnawed on some fragrant apples, which mixed a sweetness into his rapturous he-sweat as secretions from different body areas ran and mingling together. “In war, we have not time to rest, no time for refreshment,” Conan declared. “When our enemies lay siege to our cities and hurl boulders into our walls and through our houses, how shall we respond? I want to crush them – literally.” He turned to Hugh, his bony arm outstretched toward the sacred grove. “These standing stones have weathered every winter, every storm, since time immemorial. Centuries of raging wars have neither injured nor moved them. Some say they were planted in the time before men, by Titans or Giants. Some say only Druid magic could have raised and sunk them into the fields where they mystify us to this day. Surely no mortal men could have moved such behemoths. “Young Hugh, your task is to do what neither man nor nature has ever done before you. Uproot one of those ancient monuments so it may be used to smash our enemies and their war machines. You may choose your victim – but your choice will be noted.” Conan led the way; a crowd of men tried to raise and carry Hugh on their shoulders, but the ponderous hulk proved impossible to lift and manage, so they simply surged around him like a pack of hunting dogs. Hugh scooped up the nearest two damsels and carried them like bouquets of flowers in the crook of each arm. Their dainty hands tried to squeeze the unyielding marble of those arms, twisting their hips as they did so. None of our stones are as big as the ones up north, but the field still looks strikes me as a giants’ graveyard. Hugh naturally went to the largest one, shoulder-height but a little wider than he. I wondered which weighed more, and nearly laughed out loud at the absurdity – an absurdity only to someone who had never met Hugh. While Hugh walked around the stone, inspecting clefts and lichen, Conan whispered to Houel, “even if he can only loosen it, we should be able to pull it free with a team of oxen. And he could easily build a gigantic trebuchet to launch these stones. Perhaps even a conveyance to move to them.” I shuddered. Hugh carried the focused, appraising air of a land agent, factoring dimensions, materials and weights that hobbled the imagination. Without ceremony, he dug his feet in and fell upon the weathered stone, oppressing it with focused forces beyond anything nature herself could muster. After so many efforts, Hugh drew from a deep well of virility that seemed never to run dry. The crowd tensed along with him as we waited for the monolith to give. No one doubted it could outlast the onslaught of Hugh. Never relenting the pressure he built up, Hugh managed to slip his hands, his shoulders, his legs into different positions, seeking a stronger purchase, groping with his senses toward the spot already growing weak under his duress. Worrying the monument from every angle, wearing out its grip on the earth, Hugh bullied the half-buried boulder until he found the place where Creation would buckle beneath his will A breeze ruffled through the grass … but when it passed, the grass still shivered. “Look!” I pointed. As every eye turned away from the hero and toward the ground, it humped and split. The stone listed slightly into the breach and several people fainted along with it. Hugh didn’t let up but churched the ground behind him plowing into the monolith. A hump broke upward between his legs as Hugh silently commanded the monument to lie prostrate before him. Conan choked as the yawning field disgorged waves of loam displaced by the foot of the stone being impelled up into the light. Hugh stepped back for the first time, shaking his throbbing limbs so the muscles tossed back and forth like small animals. He spent a few seconds catching his breath, and the swung himself under the leaning side, grappled for a hold, and pulled with a heavy grunt. The earth vomited in distress as Hugh dragged the stone towards the level and mashed its face toward his feet. The menhir listed drunkenly now but something deep intruded on his progress and held the stone. Hugh vigorously tugged and wiggled the tonnage, breaking the obstruction and relinquishing its hold on the monolith once again. Hugh’s arms engorged in undulating ridges, spurs and peaks. His shoulders bulged nearly as big as his head, their carved fingers digging like claws onto his arms and back. His concave belly shifted right and left, directing dominance from his legs into his arms and rippling around his frame like wind-blown sheaves of wheat. Finally, with one crippling shove, Hugh wrenched the monolith free of the earth, crammed its face into the dirt as the entombed end blasted through in an eruption of soil and small rocks. When I shook the grit out of my eyes, I could barely believe what I saw – nearly as much had been buried as stuck up from the earth. It was twice as big as it had looked, the unearthed portion was dark and wet, with clumps of mud sticking to it like the lichen huddled all over the exposed half. Nearly twice as big as Hugh, it seemed impossible to move it any further, except – maybe – to roll it down a hill (were the ground not flat). Wasting no time, Hugh walked around the far side, knelt and reached one arm over the width of the fallen warrior of time. With a HUP and a HRRRGGGGHH, Hugh leaned backward, bending like a bow. His stomach clenched in sharp relief and long rods rippled in his extended forearm. The rock rose a few centimeters but then fell back into the turf. Undeterred, Hugh nearly bounced it back up into the air – but this time, the side closest to him slipped and fell. The fact that he could lift it at all froze everyone in a tableau of wonder. He wrapped his rock-strewn arms around it and pulled, his neck bulging and face purple, but only managed to lever it off the ground and shift it sideways a bit, farther away from its empty grave. He reached underneath and drove his legs down as he raised the end as far as his knees, kneading the ground to press an advantage – but again the weight proved too much, and he had to drop it. He called for water and wide-eyed, trembling girls brought him several bowls, along with fruit and a hunk of roasted beef. He gorged himself, allowing the girls to lick the grease off his fingers. He rubbed them against the surface of the stone, peeling off layer of flint and coating them with dust. He walked around to the middle and tried to raise it laterally – it hinged up half a metre or more before it slipped free. Hugh’s face clouded with annoyance and I feared his angry fist might turn it into more manageable pieces – but he redirected his impatience into his arms. Reaching one arm over the top, he grunted and craned it a metre into the air – several people experienced spasms of a certain kind – and held it teetering while he tried to shift the weight for the next stage. But the tonnage resisted his power and bobbed toward the earth. With a strangled scream, Hugh stopped it for a moment – held it – but had to let it go. Setting his feet farther apart, he heaved yet again, grappled the monolith higher, his lower arm bursting its skin as it braced the burden, dragged his shoulders back and, staggering once, wrestled it onto thighs – where it balanced, its immensity sinking him into the soil. Hugh took three breaths, rocking back and forth with each one, then leaned further back and levitated the stone onto his chest, tottering around as the menhir fought his dominance. He sidled to a halt and paused a moment, dwarfing mass trapped by his inexorable arms. His face screwed tight with strain, Hugh pressed the under arm up, its sinews bunching and trembling, while the arm over the top actually flipped the rock over – a move that almost went wrong, had his legs not danced and buttressed him to stop it. Then his legs began to shake violently and he sank beneath the stone which pressed against his face. The crowd burst with burbling concern that he might be smashed under the giant rock, his hubris leading to a predictable end – and I was afraid if it brought him to his knees, he’d but unable to continue. But … it didn’t. He didn’t kneel. He waddled toward stonier ground, looking like an ant carrying not a crumb but the entire loaf. Hugh’s knees began knocking as he fought to stand, the perfect globes of his ass quivering in time – but he worked his hands around to the underside even as he fought to discipline his rebelling limbs. Taking advantage of what inertia he’d created, Hugh wasted no time resting but pressed the rock above him – his body near parallel to the ground. Barking ferocious groans I could feel in my breastbone, he manipulated the granite giant up as he straightened his back and fought mightily against his own shaking arms. With hoarse, whistling war-cry, the god-man-boy straightened up and pressed the menhir up until his elbows locked and framed his terrible visage. He continued bellowing as he trapped the stone mountain in the air above him, mocking its desire to reunite with the earth. He lurched several steps before stopping at the end of the softer ground and sought Conan – rooting the Duke to the spot with his eyes. He stayed that way until Conan buckled at his hips and dropped his mouth in something like awe. With a snarl, Hugh then let it drop behind him and flexed his bloated arms until the cramping made him shake them out. Once more the crowd poured over him, massaging and rubbing him – a crush Hugh might not have been able to sustain had not circumstances turned against us. His sweet odor took on a pungeant manly stink, which the air caught and carried back into the forest. Before long, a grisly roar answered Hugh’s call from the forest. My master said to Geoff, “I thought you said Hugh had scared off all the predatory animals.” “He has,” Geoff replied. “There must be a migration.” “Bears don’t migrate,” Alain said, “And that was a very angry bear. Again, a mere whiff of Hugh’s scent has driven some beast to fury.” We got a first glimpse of the foaming, shambling beast, and Geoff said with restrained panic, “Not fury, but madness,” Geoff concluded. “That bear is mad. Its bite is deadly – even a scratch can afflict a man with madness.” People stampeded for the city walls once the bear blundered sideways out of the grove and shook deadly froth from its drooling maw. Despite being clearly spent, Hugh immediately strode to face the monster – and we all felt riveted by the same thoughts – if he were too exhausted, Hugh would be no match for the bear – killed or, worse, infected. A rabid Hugh could lay waste to the entire county. The afflicted are routinely strangled before the madness takes hold, but who, or what, could constrict Hugh’s throat? The archers ran back to the castle to fetch weapons but Hugh advanced alone. “No! Hugh, I forbid it!” Geoff ordered, but Hugh responded only to a higher calling, his fatigue replaced by renewed vigor. He ripped the shredded remains of his leggings and codpiece and tore away even his undercloth, one naked beast facing another. Women tried to turn away and close their eyes, but they had lost the will to resist the sight of Hugh's golden glory. Palming two large stones, he bounced their weight – likely as much as a strong man could struggle up to his chest – and then hurled first one, then the other, in quick succession, his arms like trebuchets – only more powerful. The bear fell, struck on the head and shoulder … but rose up on two legs, now truly angry. Slinging ropes of poisonous slobber across the field, it roared and fell clumsily to all fours, lighting into a lopsided charge on legs it seemed unable to fully control. As if it were under the spell of a sorcerer’s apprentice. Hugh ranged from side to side but the bear turned and faced him, always advancing. The hero crouched on titanic legs and launched himself into the air, rising for several metres and sailing over the bear like a bird of prey. The animal stood and swatted at him but Hugh flew too far and too fast, causing the unsteady creature to fall onto its back. As it struggled back to its feet, it turned so Hugh could leap and plant himself like a spear onto its vast shaggy back. Hugh tried to wrap his arms around the giant’s chest but could barely reach – his fingers touched but couldn’t grip. The bear roared and shook violently, but Hugh’s fingers pierced the dense fur and his legs clamped over its waist. Then Hugh shook back. Savagely throwing his body from side to side, Hugh forced the bear to stumble sideways several paces before it plant its claws and hold onto the ground. He shook the bear again but it lowered itself to the ground – so Hugh threw his shoulders back with a strained grimace. And overcoming the bear’s fury, bent its spine back and its forelegs off the ground. Hugh cinched his arms and legs – the bear bellowed in pain and confusion, outmuscled by something small yet heavy and brutally irresistible. Hugh shook the bear again until its head wove back and forth, and then he arched his back and slammed that head into the ground. A look appeared in the bear’s crazed eyes – a moment of clarity, a primitive instinct for escape. The beast fought against Hugh’s strength with the renewed energies of something now fighting for its life. As Hugh’s shoulders tensed, prying the bear’s up again, it fought him, bucking and shaking, matching him strength for strength. Feeling the iron spine defy him, Hugh squeezed until the bear screamed. Every move Hugh made in directing the bear one way, the bear countered, twisting and scratching the other way. Hugh’s face contorted as his arms labored against the sturdy ribs, his fingers grappling for a link. The bear writhed violently but Hugh closed his eyes and with a hissing sound, linked his middle fingers. The beast wore stark fear on its face, its chest compressed, its hips being wrench by the horrible contortions of Hugh’s legs. I held my breath – I couldn’t tell what Hugh was trying to do, besides hang on. Slowly, by pitching his back fiercely, Hugh guided the bear to the stone he had just conquered. His eyes sharpened frightfully, and with his teeth bared and an almost-evil smile, he arched his back again and clumped the bear forward with his own indomitable torso. With claws clutching helplessly at the soil, the bear realized – as much as it could – it was losing. When Hugh coerced his captive abreast of his trophy, he flexed his entire body, lifting the bear off the ground and slamming it back down. He did it again, and again, each time gaining a greater bounce until with clenched grunt, Hugh actually flipped himself onto his back on the stone’s surface, the quarter-tonne bulk pronged above him. The animal’s legs waved in the air but Hugh’s back spread out beneath him, bracing against each terrorized thrust of the mindless brute. The boy-man had even crushed its roar down to a steady wheezing moan frothed out with its spittle. Hugh’s legs trapped the bear’s hind limbs and pulled them out and away, immobilizing them. He arched up onto his shoulders and bent that iron spine – and squeezed. Hugh shook the bear to the left and clamped his hands more tightly to its chest. He jarred it to the right and a sickening pop came out of the bear’s lower quarters. The wheeze now carried a bone-chilling whine of fear. Hugh tensed ferociously trembling with impossible effort, bending the bear's steely ribs in on themselves. Hugh’s rising growls drowned out the animal’s eerie whistling. Now gripping his wrists, he shrank the bear’s chest further through barbaric will. His arms, buried deep in the fur, rubbed slightly back and forth: their knots, harder than bone, fractured ribs. He rattled the bear like a doll, draining the dregs of its vitality with relentless determination. Its swimming forelegs slowed, and slowed further, and then merely waved as if blown by the wind. Once the bear’s legs stopped moving (though still twitching), Hugh’s legs straightened out, further disjointing its hind legs and hips. The trapped victim emitted a thin, high wail, its tongue lolled out of its mouth, a harsh gurgling sound coming with it. Hugh could have finished the bear off right there, but something terrible had been ignited in the man-boy’s chest – and further below. Hugh rolled off the stone and plopped the weakened beast onto the ground. Arching his own back, Hugh brought his legs forward and clamped them against the stove-in ribs. Pulling the bear backward again and trapping its lower torso with his own, Hugh gyrated up, his ass dimpling and clenching, his manroot thrusting through the densely matted fur. It seemed to pulse with every sharp crack echoing through the circle. His eyes feverish, the shocking obscenity of the tableau held everyone in a merciless grip. Hugh wrangled his arms up, never releasing their unbearable pressures, hands reaching for the animal's head. Gripping the rocklike skull, Hugh's chest rose like twin peaks as he stopped the bear's thrashing. His hands crept down, his bulbous forearms immobilizing the bear's head. The entire crowd buzzed with tension that ratcheted higher as Hugh linked his hands underneath its head. With a grim frown, Hugh straightened back up, fighting the bear's final desperate spasms. With a final choking splutter, the bear’s head rose in Hugh's puissant grip, its long long neck tremoring. Stretching. Tearing. Hugh’s invincible lance jousted with the arched neck, his hips slowly digging up and down. But the bear's neck was too long - even with the skull pressed into the valley of his chest, the neck did not break. He'd either have to be work his way backwards ... or ... My knees gave way weakly as Hugh's sculpted arms sprouted veins along their extreme curves. Hugh pushed the head up in a harrowing repeat of his menhir feat. A thin shrill shriek bubbled out of the gaping maw, big eyes suddenly blank with a resignation more terrible than its death throes. Hugh's elbows inched up, his hands rising to stomach-curdling wet PWOPP sounds. Hugh stretched the neck unnaturally longer even as the bear's tongue seemed to crawl out of its throat. Blood sprayed from tears in the victim’s hide, the skin rending in garish jagged slashes. Hugh grimaced as he grappled the bear's body down – down and away. Hugh pushed his arms towards the sky with renewed gristle. Through the ragged flaps of skin, I could see thick cables of muscle stretching and then rolling up into tight knots. Soon I could see the white bones floating like beads on a broken chain washed in red. His virile member erupted, spewing ropes of viscous pearlescence through the hot fur and into the ragged wounds. His legs gripped the body firmly, riding it with bucking hips and plowing himself violently against the dying beast. Finally, with a triumphant bellow that shook the stones themselves, Hugh extended his arms all the way up and sheared the bear's head off its jerking, dying torso. The torn neck fountained blood, mired with Hugh's own jetting essence streaming up through the coat like grappling ropes. Hugh’s seed-fountain continued even as the blood slowly ebbed, soaking the coat in his milky pith. He shuddered, his naked muscles rippling and drumming fleetly beneath his papery white skin, and making a final grunting cry, Hugh stubbed himself out in eye-flickering bliss. Hugh paused a moment, chest heaving with deep satisfaction, until the echoing pleasures slowly Faded. Shaking sense and awareness back into his golden-curled, blood and semen-caked head, carried the still-lethal skull, dripping blood and froth of Hugh, to the gaping pit that once housed a menhir, and dropped it in. He went back to the corpse, grabbed a loose hind-leg, and pulled it over to the grave, kicking it in. Then, in desperation or derision, I couldn’t tell, Hugh tugged the stone, bit by exhausted bit, until its immeasurable tonnes covered the tomb. Hugh turned and raised his fists over his head, his heavy arms bent and throbbing like the empurpled mast rising above his navel, shaking its own glistening fist. But only briefly - he sank down, hands on his knees his shoulders sinking and his back sagging. Then he was lost as cheering soldiers surrounded him and, in a joint effort, raised him to his feet and half-carried him away from the slung saliva and gore, to a grassy rise shaded by the setting sun. The women broke through the soldiers with kettles and bowls of cool and steaming water, shouldering them away like an invading army. Over their heads I heard him mutter “meat,” and platters passed hand to hand from the high table directly to him. Sating himself, he fell into a deep slumber, oblivious of the hands massaging oils into his muscles. Soon the jealous guards rallied and drove the women away, circling him and facing out to keep so many hungry eyes and hands at bay. Geoff had excused Hugh from the rest of his chores that afternoon, so after I finished mine and got something to eat, I returned to his pallet. He was fast asleep on his back, lying flat on his back with only a modest cloth around his loins. The air near him shimmered torridly, and sweat beaded on my forehead and under my arms. I quickly doffed my togs and draped myself over his mounded form. He stirred slightly, his barrel chest rising, but otherwise I may as well have been a light blanket. Arousal chases my fatigue away, and take advantage of last night’s offer and stretch my limbs, pressing my body against his muscles – firm yet pliable at rest, their density defied my penetrating fingers, but I could press and caress them, trace the expansive flesh as it narrows and gathers into steely tendons. His blood pulsed slowly through them, perfectly balancing his other humors and restoring his incalculable vitality. My own loin covering stirred as I rubbed against the serpent sleeping between the pillows of its generative nest. The serpent rose slightly, stirring waves through Hugh’s body which undulated and stretched in sleep. His mouth pursed and opened slightly and, overcome with desire, I gripped his upper arms and slid myself up onto his chest. My own member lay erect in the alley that ran down the center of his cobbled abdomen – it fit perfectly, caressed and massaged as those muscles rose and fell as he breathed. From the barrel-crest of his chest, I reached down and placed a daring kiss on his thick, languid lips. Still asleep, his mouth accepted mine, rubbing against my lips. I nuzzled the down around his chin and let my tongue slip out, seeking his. His tongue also sought mine and they caressed one another and explored each other’s hot, wet den. My own drool flowed strongly, lubricating our fun, and a distant, dreamy smile invited me to display greater passion. I sucked his lips and licked his teeth, and when I felt his hands land lightly on my ass, I shuddered in anticipation and a little fear: if he rolled over and didn’t wake up, could I support his weight or would I be crushed or suffocated by Hugh’s ponderous magnitude? I stretched my arms over his and wrapped my legs over his thighs, encouraging him to stay put but offering my nether orifice for his rising python. He gripped me tighter, so tightly I winced and bit his lip by mistake – his eyes opened drowsily and for a moment, we gazed at each other with his hands clasping hindside. Just then a sharp laugh startled us both (and several of the horses). Hugh raised his head as I turned and saw a buxom young maid with a startled look on her face. “You boys are incorrigible!” she said a little loudly. Hugh rose up on his elbows and sloughed me off to the side, where I adjusted my loin cloth and blazed bright red. She paid me no mind. “All rested, hero?” she said saucily, tugging coyly at the lace that held her bodice together. “How would you like a real woman to satisfy you. I promise it’ll be better than some smelly bear.” She spread her knees and pressed a palm into her skirt with an open mouth. Heat kindled in Hugh’s eyes and his groin snake bobbed up through the folds of his cloth. She walked backward toward a stack of hay bales in the shadows. Forgetting me, Hugh rose – like a mountain growing before my eyes, or a dragon taking off from its lair, his body simply kept going and going and going until he was up and around the corner. But Hugh stopped short, looking uncertain. “Come on,” she cooed. “No one will care. You’re a man now. You do what you want.” Hugh fidgeted against the cloth restraint binding his eagerness. “My master said I would grow weak if I did it. I don’t even, you know, do myself. Not as often as other boys.” “You’re no boy, and no man is your master,” she chided. “Not even the king can rival you. Besides, we all saw what you did to that bear. Are you weak now?” She threw a horseshoe, which he caught. Spreading the fingers of that one hand around the prongs but not taking his eyes off her, Hugh squeezed – and crushed the metal shoe as if it were clay, until it snapped in two. Yet he didn’t let it go – gathering both parts into his palm, he folded them in half – both at the same time – until the outmatched steel could bend no further and broke again. His clenched the pieces in his fist and mashed it again, his forearm filling with rocks that scrubbed against each other. A metallic tinkling seeped out between his white-knuckled fingers. When he opened his fist, shattered fragments of steel rained to the floor, unidentifiable as having ever been a forged horse shoe. “Guess not,” he replied with sheepish excitement. The maid had watched wide-eyed, bosom heaving and mouth opening and semi-closing in excitement of her own. Though she massaged both her breasts and released them, she stiffened and shivered as if fulfillment had ignited without any external stimulation. Her eyes hooded with breathless hunger. “Then, what are you waiting for?” she half-dared, half-begged him huskily. That was it. His loin cloth ripped around his vibrant erection has he flung it away and pulled her to him, immediately entering her. She gasped as his girth stretched her open more than ever before, but he didn’t rush to the finish line. Hugh’s natural instinct for lovemaking took over – building, teasing, pulling back, slowing down then racing, all the while withholding his essence. His manfunk wafted through the stable with a delirious mixture of wild musk and protective warmth. Her eyes rolled up into her head – however vigorously he slid in and out, he was gentler, more controlled – stronger – than any man she’d been with. And … he made her wetter than ever before. Mixed with the leakage from his powerful organ, they slid against each other like eels. She clutched at the hay behind her, her nipples like craters as another pleasure wave washed through her. Again, instinctively, Hugh let her subside and then whipped her up until the storm broke in her several times before he unleashed his own deluge. Hugh’s arm shot out and grabbed a shovel, the blade warping in his grip. He shot into her with such force she instantly came again, biting her lip to stay quiet. His ass dimpled and writhed for so long I realized I would get no sleep tonight – perhaps never again. My own midsection rocked as I spurted in envious sympathy. I massaged myself dry with my under cloth and was about to return to the pallet, when I saw it – he wasn’t pulling out. He was clearly still turgid. Still filling her. Still thrusting. She smiled hungrily, grabbing his ass and pulling herself against him. He slammed into her hard this time, again and again, jiggling her breasts and body, shattering her composure and driving her to wild abandon. She thrashed and ground herself against in rhythm against him, whipping her loosened hair from side to side and moaning gutterally like a cow in calving. In full control and awareness of their danger, Hugh smoothly grabbed a leather work glove and gently shoved it into her mouth. She chewed it like it was dinner. He came again, dimpling longer than before but sluicing in and out and spilling long tendrils of cock drool. I stayed crouching, hardening again and barely aware of the pain. And as I suspected, he didn’t quit. More like he was still getting warmed up. But the maid began to flag, endless pleasure addling her brain. She shuddered periodically, ranging between an empty smile and a tense incomprehension that only Hugh’s persistence could dismiss. Her sopping hair lay lank over her shoulders, her breathing hitching from his power and then siking into a heavy, coarse wheeze. He came a fourth time and she moaned in mindless pleasure and pain. His seed spurted down and ricocheted off his pendulous ball sac … as if she were full. For the first time, he pulled out completely, his knob painted her belly and breasts with his man-lime. A steady stream ran down her legs slowly, like freshly-rendered glue. His sword waved challengingly, throbbing with purple ardor. His exhales came fast and heavy and his red eyes burned with feverish intensity. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do but then, face enlivening, he lifted her into the air, spun her around and did what I had so longed for: took her bunghole like a rutting beast. The pain shocked her awake and she screamed into the glove. Her torso impulsively clenched around him but hadn’t the strength to expel the invader. Sliding her up and down on his breed shaft with one hand, he pulled out the glove stuck his fingers in her mouth, attacking her defenses on two fronts. Her panic retreated and as they joined into a single oscillating being, his body commanded hers to banish pain and feed greedily on pleasure alone. Obediently, her body obeyed and her tension fell away like the tattered remnants of her clothing. He bobbed her up and down endlessly before clenching his ass and releasing another eruption of manly lava. Feeling his own control fight for command against greedy, voluptuous gluttony, he wrapped one arm around a stud and squeezed. His arm crunched into the wood – splinters broke out around it. He squeezed pitilessly as the ecstasy of another tidal wave rolled out of him and utterly submerged her. Solid oak creaked and split loudly. Finally he eased down, left the poor oak post alone, and rested his back against a high stack of hay, holding her up with one hand and simply staying still. But staying within her. Not softening. Not at all. The crippled beam groaned as the weight of the roof shifted into its weakness. The groaning excited Hugh and he slowly began plumbing her for a sixth time. Something broke in my mind – a relaxation, an acceptance of such unbelievable strength and stamina. A kind of faith moved my heart that I never felt at mass. My body responded by releasing another white libation, globs of it billowing forth before the ecstacy could catch up – it rushed in late and quaked me to my soul, submitting my life to this thundering, earth-shaking deity before me. Hugh focused intently on her, careful not to bruise or injure her as he ground her back and forth in semi-circles. Her limbs flopped randomly, their motions aimless and simply sparking off stray bolts of joy her weaker frame could not contain. She shuddered again as another convulsion gripped her, and her seizure gripped him and undammed yet another flood of his virility into her guts. Not only the stream down her legs increase, now from two willsprings within her, but her belly began to bloat. Hugh looked as though this premature release – stimulated by her and not commanded by him – had cheated him. He stayed in and bucked her a little roughly, making her jaw chatter loosely, until he pasted her insides a seventh time. Ignoring how her rib cage expanded in his grip, Hugh plunged deeper with an urgency he hadn’t shown before. His bull-balls slapped the back of her ass as he chased the shimmering bliss he caught so easily again and again. His back stiffened and spread apart and the overflow of another cascade splattered his nutsack and thighs. Her eyes opened with bemused surprise as she belched and … smelled Hugh in it. The maid passed out completely and slumped on him, twitching and jerking like a dreaming dog. His face glowing with greed for a vein of gold that ran deeper and deeper into the mountain, he kept excavating for it. A series of short hard rams made her burp his salty musk, made her breasts flop along with her arms and nodding head. The hammering sped faster and faster until his cheeks became a blur. Then suddenly he stopped and mashed her down as if he were trying to snap his manhood off. But that prong stood up to him defiantly and rebuffed his efforts. Within the frenzy of his ninth fusillade, a heavenly smile pierced his face like a sunbeam after a storm eliciting a heavenly smile to spread across his face. The sun banished the storm and he slowed down to a steady strum. Pinning her against a wall of hay with only his horn of plenty, he put his hands on his hips and wiggled them, watching her bob like a puppet. Hugh didn’t like her leaving him alone like that - so he leaned forward, placing one fist on either side of the hay beside, and supported her with It while staring intently into her face. His presence penetrated her dazed mind and dragged her back to consciousness – while he stayed still, spreading and pulsing with her, her own grinding movement down below betrayed her return to paradise. He began slow rotations, lazy figure eights that hardened him until his balls hitched. Then, again, he became … perfectly … still…. But she shook with warring tensions and seized with unhinged rapture. He grinned with masterly hauteur and withheld himself until she scratched violently at him and seemed she’d shake herself apart if he did not feed her. Still he waited until her panting desperation opened her eyes – he locked them to his – and she seemed to wither and bloom at the same time within his gaze, her mind turning inside out beneath the fullness of his revelation. Still he waited. Still he grinned. Finally, drool spilled in rivulets out of her mouth, followed by a plaintive mewling bordering on despair. He nodded, slowly, over and over as he felt her identity disintegrate – and then he released the hounds of war. Her chest inflated from the inside, a strangled cry of incredulous surrender rose from her gaping mouth, and her breath, redolent of his salt, filled the air and made the horses rustle and neigh. His own fecund odor returning to him from inside her kept his demonic prick sharp as he tunneled even deeper into the mountain for that skein of gold. His muscles flinched - he had ridden himself raw – and now every motion exploded in his brain. A mere normal man would pull away, flee, his brain melting. But Hugh was made better. He carried her gingerly to a worktable, sweeping clean its surface with his arm, and laid her down. He stood upright so that the pressure bore down on his virility, and though it bounced her up a little, it soon settled down. Standing there, hands on his hips, his massive chest rising and sinking like storm billows on the open see, he defied every extreme sensation – he refused to withdraw, he would not pass out. Hugh willed every impulse into submission, and wrung the savor out of each moment. They could not gang up on him. They could not overcome his control. His chest rolled triumphantly as he disciplined his own rebellious passions and directed them to serve him one more time. The lightning from this battle shot into her. She twitched wildly, arms and legs spasming and battering his ram inside her. He conducted the unbearable pleasures until he chose to let them go. Throwing his head back, he barked and howled, reached up and grabbed a roof joist: and each time her leg kicked or her hand flicked, his fingers sank deeper into the splintering oak. He swayed there, his head shaking slowly back and forth and veins pounding in his neck. With a moan of pure satisfaction, his shoulders twitched and his hips swiped her back and forth across the table. He froze and braced his legs and ass. An eleventh milking surged into the maid. Her body swelled, her neck fattened – and his puissance gushed out of her moaning mouth in driving bursts. My body wrenched a third helpless time together with gripping alarm. I felt immobilized but somehow I shouted, “Sir!” as his seed trickled out of her nose and not only from her ears, but also her eyes, like pearly tears. Hugh’s eyes whipped open and he turned and glared in mad fury. I fell back, my cock now heaving drily, and mustered all my courage. “She needs a doctor!” He looked back and for the first time saw the swollen main, his viscous ichor still seeping from her head. He pulled out suddenly and a bucket’s worth of slime whooshed out and all over his legs. He lifted her in one arm and, with the other, battered a hole in the side of the stable. He ran into the village, naked and not only erect but still foaming like … like a mad bear. He woke the doctor by breaking his door in half. The doctor clutched his blanket in terror, then saw the girl and jumped up so Hugh could place her on the bed. Though he was no longer in her, the overflow continued to leak out, spreading slowly over her body. All the time, though her eyes fluttered pure white, the smile never left her lips. The doctor pushed gently on her belly and semen oozed from several openings at both ends. He turned around and, seeing Hugh’s still-drooling plowshare, started in amazement before recovering himself. “Young man, I’ll take it from here.” Tears stained Hugh’s beautiful features. “I didn’t mean to … will she be all right?” “I’ve never seen anything like this,” the old man confessed. “So long as nothing inside her has burst, she should pull through. Though I doubt she’ll ever be the same. You should prepare yourself however: I wouldn’t be surprised if you were a father, several times over. Such prodigious … vigor … might likely plant a prodigy of seedlings in this young girl.” Turning away, he muttered again, “Like an Irish rabbit.” Hugh seemed stricken so I gripped his unyielding arm tight as I could. “Come, you should rest again. And I can’t carry you if you fall asleep stark naked in the street.” Hugh shuffled out and embarrassedly propped the shattered boards door back in the doorway. Overcome with a surge of relief or joy or something, he grabbed and lifted me high into the air, shook me wildly with an ecstatic grin on his face, and draped me over his shoulder like a potato sack. I could feel the slimy slap of his dick against my feet as he trotted down the moonlit street. My hands explored the battlements of his back under the guise of holding on: the central pennant-poles, the squarish berms of annealed flesh over each shoulder blade, and the ramparts that spread to either side. The feeling his shoulder rippling back and forth against my belly made me come again but, having nothing left, it hurt more than anything. I wouldn’t have traded it for the world. Back in the stable reeking of fornication, he flung me onto his pallet and stared down proudly. “My friend!” he said, beaming, chest flaring. Then, treating me more like a pet than a friend, he lay down beside me, enclosed me with his irresistible arm-mass and tucked my face into the deep pit of foggy musk between his chest and back. He fell to sleep immediately but my heart raced like a hunting hound. His bushy hairs tickled my forehead and soon his peace encompassed me. I dreamed I was running beside him and wagging my tale forever and ever. THE END
  6. The Roommate's Gift It all began in John’s first year of university. It was an unassuming request; ‘one roommate required for a year lease downtown. John had instantly fell in love with the apartment, but he knew he couldn’t pay his bills without splitting the cost. Kareem had answered the ad almost as soon as it went up on the internet. John thought he was an ordinary guy. Also a first year, and wholly in love with the apartment as well. He had a short beard, olive tanned complexion and piercing green eyes. At first glance, John was not incorrect in assuming that he was from somewhere in the middle east, Kareem’s slight accent only confirmed his assumption. It soon became clear that Kareem was a perfect fit for a roommate. He was clean, organized and didn’t seem like he would have any problems paying for the second half of the rent. John helped him move into the apartment and began preparing for the start of the school year. Shortly after Kareem had moved in, John was woken up one early morning by the clash of pans from the kitchen. He cracked his door open and peaked through. What he saw took his breath away. He knew that Kareem had some hidden bulk under the baggy clothes that he usually wore, but nothing could prepare him for the sight of the muscular man shirtless in his kitchen. Kareem was huge. His body resembled that of a competition bodybuilder, only perhaps a little less leaner and definitely hairier. John retreated back into his room unnoticed. He regarded his own body with distaste. He was pale and skinny, with just enough fat to cover up his abs completely. He had basically no body hair to speak of, which suited him just fine. The only part of his body that he had any pride for was his legs. Good genetics and a lifetime of bike riding had given him swollen calves and cut quads. He went back to bed, dreaming of what it might feel like to have a buff masculine body like his roommate’s. School began and John found himself thrust into the daily grind of life. School and a retail part-time job kept him busy enough so that he barely saw Kareem. This didn’t stop the two from becoming closer and closer, and before either of them realized it, they were best mates. It was one dusky evening when John’s life began to change. Kareem was probably a better cook than John could ever hope to be. He was initially uncertain about the dishes that Kareem put in front of him, but he had yet to have a bad bite, so he never refused anything. Both of them were exhausted from a full day of classes, but John was especially exhausted after getting rejected, once again, by a girl he had been seeing for a couple weeks. Settling down to the steaming food in front of them, John blurted out his desire to have a body like Kareems. “That would get the girls’ attention,” he said dejectedly into his plate. Kareem looked up quickly and regarded John with those piercing eyes of his. “You should come to the gym with me tomorrow,” he said matter of factly. His pecs instinctively twitched under his tank top as he said it. “Yeah maybe. But I’ve tried the gym before, and it just doesn’t seem to work for me! The only things I can ever get to grow are these damned legs.” He looked down at his lower extremities with bewilderment and frustration. “You probably weren’t eating enough,” Kareem said dryly to him. “I think I know how to help.” The slightest smile appeared on his face. He pushed his bulk out his chair and strode over to the kitchen cupboards. John watched him rifle through the numerous spices and herbs that he kept in the cupboards, before he produced a small glass container. “Salt,” he said. “From my hometown, it will help kick up that food a bit.” John didn’t think the food in front of him needed more salt, in fact it was plenty salty already. But he only watched as Kareem knocked some of the salt into his hand. The grains were ruby red and almost seemed to play with the light in the room. John had never seen salt like that before, but he’d also never seen most of the things in Kareem’s spice cupboard, and he tended not to ask. Kareem sprinkled it over John’s food before plunking back into his own chair and tucking into the food. John watched suspiciously as the red crystals dissolved. He shrugged and began to eat. The next morning, John was quite literally woken up by his stomach. Its desperate cries moved him quickly out of bed and into the kitchen. He was not surprised to see Kareem frying up breakfast for the two of them. “Good morning,” he said sleepily before sauntering into the bathroom. “Morning,” Kareem announced, not turning away from the sizzling frying pan. He smiled to himself as he heard the click of the bathroom door closing. John looked in the mirror. “Huh,” he said flatly. His lanky body didn’t look as lanky anymore. In fact, he thought he looked pretty good! He had the first signs of some muscular definition in his chest and arms. The bulge of his legs seemed to push his boxers slightly wider than he had ever noticed before. Oddest of all, he seemed to have a slightly shadowed patch in the middle of his chest, closer inspection revealed budding hair that he had never noticed before. He rubbed the stubble on his face, that also seemed darker and denser than he had ever noticed before. It looked like he only had to wait a couple of weeks before he would be sporting a full dense beard. John wasn’t stupid, and it didn’t take long for him to figure out what had happened. An image of the glass container with the red salt sprung into his mind. He reached into the depths of his mind, trying to remember some factoid of biology that would explain what the salt had done to his body. Nothing came to mind. “Was it dangerous?” John wondered to himself. He realized he didn’t really care, he just needed more of it. Kareem was sitting at the table with two steaming plates as John left the bathroom. He stopped himself from smiling, the transformation had already begun. John had reacted quickly to the crystals, better than Kareem ever had, he was glad that he had only given him a little bit. “Breakfast is ready,” he said cooly. “I’m sorry I started without you, but I need to get going, anatomy class at 8:30, remember?” “Yeah, no worries. Thanks for breakfast!” John watched Kareem curiously as the big man shoveled the last bit of food into his mouth and grabbed his bag. They exchanged goodbyes and all at once, John was alone in the apartment. He wasted no time in seizing his opportunity. He opened Kareem’s cupboard, expecting to find the usual mess. Instead he found exactly what he was looking for. The red salt was there, right in front of him, almost like it had been placed there on purpose. He didn’t give it much thought, only grabbing it and emptying a generous amount into his food. Just like before, it absorbed into his food. Only this time, there was so much that it left a reddish hue. He hesitated for a second, unsure of what he was doing. “It’s only salt,” he laughed to the empty room before shovelling the red food into his mouth. He admitted, the taste wasn’t fantastic. The salt was indeed salty. But he ate it all. Afterwards he only sat there, waiting. But nothing happened. Maybe he was mistaken? Maybe he just hadn’t looked at himself in a while and it was just Kareem’s calorie dense food that had caused him to grow. That wouldn’t exactly explain the hair, but it made more sense than muscle growing salt. John pulled on a shirt and pants, ignoring the feeling of tugging fabric. He would have to take the bus, there was no way he was making it to campus in time by walking. As he flashed his student ID to the bus driver he suddenly felt his skin flush and his head go light. He quickly chose a seat in the back, happy that there was barely anyone else in the bus. His whole body seemed to go numb and cold, he realized he was sweating. John could feel every heartbeat along almost every inch of his body, as if his heart was pumping overtime. And then he felt it. An unmistakable feeling of heaviness enveloped him and he began to grow. He looked at his forearm with a mix of disgust and ecstasy as he watched it fill with hot, hard muscle. Thick veins pushed against the skin under his arm, and as his muscles grew they appeared on the backs of them as well. He watched with bated pleasure as his forearms pumped themselves larger and larger, and thick hair began to mat on their tops. John gasped as he felt his sleeves fill up from his swelling biceps and triceps. A tiny groan escaped his lips, which only drew the gaze of a few bus passengers who looked away before they noticed what was happening. He felt the fabric stretch and stretch until the material was skin tight over a pair of massive bodybuilder arms. A vein ran down each arm, even visible when they ascended into the sleeves of his shirt. Unbeknownst to John, a deep crevice was forming between his ballooning pecs. It was visible above the collar of his stretching V-neck shirt. He reached with a veiny muscle hand to grope a growing pec. The muscle was hard and warm under the thin fabric, he could feel it slowly expanding under his touch. He looked down at himself, suddenly aware that his chest had grown into a thick shelf of muscle. He rubbed under the shirt, not surprised to feel a modest amount of soft hair covering the hard muscle. As his back widened and his shirt tightened, an obvious eight pack was suddenly visible on his torso, pushing the material into eight neat mounds under his heaving pecs. He flexed an arm, delighting in the ball of muscle that formed and the explosion of vascularity that suddenly stood in stark relief against the smoothness of his skin. His attention was suddenly diverted to his lower half, as he felt an overwhelming tightness. His legs were huge! The bulky, hairy mounds of muscle were spilling over his seat. Luckily he had worn stretchy running shorts, and the bulk had only made them ride up, revealing his now god-like lower limbs. He felt ripping and knew that his boxers had given way to his growth, giving him relief from the tightness and allowing his muscles to grow into the soft fabric of his shorts. A couple veins ran down his massive calves, making them look even more cut and athletic. He again praised himself for wearing flip-flops, as even his feet had grown. They were long and thick, corded with athletic looking muscle and veins. He kicked off the useless flip-slops absentmindedly. And just as soon as it started, it stopped. John’s shirt clung tightly, but securely to the muscle man’s torso. His hairy, meaty pecs were overwhelmingly visible above the deep V collar. His previously baggy running shorts were filled with hard hairy muscle, making them resemble compression shorts. He brought a meaty hand to his chin, only to realize that a short dark beard had grown. The transformation was complete. John had a body to rival his roommate’s and he knew it. The bus trundled to his stop, just beside the main quad of his university campus. The sun was out and hundreds of students were milling around the grounds. John noticed that many of the guys were shirtless. He wasted no time in pulling his off, finally ripping it a little bit in the process. He was the biggest man on campus now, he knew it, and he loved it. Thanks to Kareem’s gift, university was about to get a whole lot better. This one's pretty PG.. Let me know what you think!
  7. (Author's Note: Important background on this lust filled muscle worship day is in Parts 1 - 4 at the BeeKeeper's site under "msclvr") I wanted to help inaugurate this new site with this Part 6 and the previous Part 5...I seemed to really "get into" the muscle-orgy-strength passion among these testosterone-driven body-builders. Angel: A Sequel – Part VI By [email protected] Paul’s Muscle-Worshipper Perspective: Please Indulge Him (It gets hot) Grant is, as I know from much earlier in this extraordinary day, an incredible gift to me. As I shared in earlier parts to this story, he came from nowhere – literally -- and knocked on my door. In no time, he was also knocking on the door of my cynical, gay, and many times broken heart. He was also knocking at the very deepest part of my soul’s male sexuality -- my soul-sexuality – if that makes any sense. He is helping me rediscover what it is to be an alive, vibrant, caring, and a deeply sexual man. And, what it is like for two men to love deeply, passionately, and with no holds barred -- a man (me) who is all of sudden much more understanding of himself, others, and what the world needs from him. How is Grant able to do this? Frankly, that is a very good question. If you’ve read earlier parts to this story, you know he does not come “through the womb” of a human mother. In my words, as inadequate as they are, he comes from “the womb of God.” As a long-term “sometimes” atheist, that is something revolutionary for me to say. But, in this one day – since he arrived on my porch -- all of my beliefs about what is possible, especially in a man, a man to love and with whom I would share my life with, are completely upside down. Everything that used to be impossible is now possible. Long-time fantasy is now reality. I am taking Grant at face value, knowing that he has much he wants to share with me –much of it with a mysterious quality. The only thing he knows how to do is love. And he is loving me. I am beginning to understand that he loves with so many different kinds of love…not just sexual love or eros. The idea that I would never be “good enough” for a handsome musclegod – or be wanted by one like him -- is long gone. I’m happily living in what philosophers call a “state of suspended disbelief.” This very deep and reciprocated love is very new for me. All I’ve known in the past is pretty superficial, and limited to “if our bodies and cocks can turn each other on.” And those have been far and few in between. The rest of the time I have spent pretty much alone. Lots of fantasy, writing, reading, and jacking-off on the Internet stuff which, by the way, has gotten way hotter for muscle-worshippers given You-Tube and other technologies. Yet, the long existent overall sense of aimlessness, loneliness, and being unpartnered, has been my path, at least up until the miracle of this morning’s visit from Grant. I want, what I now have, for all the lonely gay guys out there. As best I can figure out, and I know my understanding is very limited, I had been longing deeply for a huge, handsome, massively-built and cut, muscle-god to come be with me and be my lover and soul-partner. In other words, my longing and my visioning for all these years – from being a teenager - was about “manifesting” what I wanted. And, after years of patience, impatience, general pissed-offness, 24/7 fantasizing and writing, and resignation, it happened. He knocked and I, despite my fears, answered in more ways than just opening the front door. No regrets about my screwed up parents. No more deep shame about being a gay man who is hard-wired to be attracted to and lust after body-builders and muscle-gods, to the exclusion of damn near every other male. He is, truly, what other muscle-worshippers know deeply, and long for, and “call out to the gods” to for themselves. Now, what has really got me going over his arrival and all our mind-blowing muscle-worshipping and sexual intimacy this day, is his unheard of: height of least 6’8”, his god-given extremely handsome good looks and ice-melting smile, his astounding combination of masses of muscle everywhere, accompanied by cuts, sinew, cords, and maps of veins that defy any Mr. Olympia competitor. He is gifted with phenomenal size – height, mass, and width – yet carries proportions that are truly carved by a modern day Michelangelo who has a fetish for really big and built men. In other words, the V from his unusually wide shoulders, to his very small waist, is something most bodybuilders would die for. This type of V on Grant, is truly a sexual invitation. And, since he’s been “following my thinking” from the “heavens” for years (see Part I), he certainly knows this. The long and short of it is that he is always reading my mind. He’s been reading my mind for years. And, as a result, he fully knows what I want in him and the world. So, he, in fact, “made” himself for me. He told me that in a very convincing explanation earlier today. I know that sounds very “woo-woo”. Yet, that is the truth as I know it now. I know I might be rambling here a bit, but I think it’s worth getting this down. And there’s more. He has a long, thick, cut, and a very muscular and veiny cock possessed by very few men….certainly not by world-class bodybuilders…many of whom have had theirs’ shrivel up for a range of reasons. The ridge of his crown is nearly twice as wide as his cock. His balls are like oranges and covered with a soft black hair. He has his black pubic hair clipped right at the top, just below his smallest poser. Rarely does anybody see muscle-gods with this type of huge package – unless it is artificially stuffed with a sock of something like that. Period. And, god, when he gets hard, it is something to see him shake and wave his manhood around! He can be like 16 year old adolescent in the showers, proudly showing himself off. As if there could be any more. Well, there is. He exudes what we might traditionally a “musky, manly, and masculine scent.” That is, however, one hell of an understatement. His “scent” has a way of disarming folks – folks that might otherwise be very intimidated by his extreme good looks, size, and muscles. It helps them relax and actually feel friendly and want to be close to him. It actually draws people to him – regular guys or body-builders. It makes no difference. And, most people, once they are close in to him, want him to flex his extremely large and veiny arms and other muscles. He has no problem if folks want to grab and squeeze his big package, either. He does this with a big smile and in a very gentlemanly way. He does not need any lessons from Dale Carnegie. His body and his warm smile are his consistent “calling cards.” Most folks are satisfied with our story that he is from a farming family in Idaho and has never had the time or money to compete. Yet, we say we have a one-of-a-kind gym in our basement where he lifts amazing poundages. Of course, he’s never traveled to compete. That mystifies folks but they don’t feel inclined to challenge him. When asked what his measurements are – as he’s already been asked in this gym today – he just says he’s grown so big so fast that he needs to re-measure himself to find out what they really are, now. Again, they’re a bit surprised because all body-builders know every possible measurement on their body. But, Grant is their friend and hero now, and they’re not taking issue with him. Grant and I spent our first hours together – in my home -- having more sex and muscle-worshipping than I’ve had in my life time. He is teaching me some mind-blowing techniques of man-to-man love in the traditions of the Great Wisdom Teachers of the Ancients. Also, given his unlimited strength, he is able to do things with my body and his body that defies anything we might call normal. He loves getting me excited and getting me off. He knows I have a related fetish. I love musclegods who can do big feats of strength – lifting, bending, grinding, collapsing – you name it, I’ll love it. He’s also an expert in telling me what I can do to get him totally aroused, poised to explode, and spew a cannon of cum, spurt after spurt. We’ve had some real “messes” to clean up. Guess that’s the product of all that ancient “wisdom”. After he burst out of his t-shirt and shorts at my request – his already huge muscles exploding all over the place -- I went out and bought clothes that I thought he might be able to fit into. Most of the time, he could fit into them -- just barely. T-shirts, jerseys, all sorts of cut-offs, sweats, jock-straps, posing gear, sandals, etc. That’s what he wore to the gym where we have been at for the last 2 hours in this private extravaganza of posing, flexing and profound muscle worship. I never would have imagined that the owner would close the place down, draw the shades, and have Grant do some posing – just so his bodybuilding clientele could do some major muscle-worshipping of Grant. No holds barred. No embarrassment. No man-to-man awkwardness. Just muscle-god men being with muscle-god men and letting it all “hang out.” Grant got them going with his truly inspiring posing and flexing, and the guys just took it from there. Jock-straps and posers came off, beginning with Grant’s. He literally got so hard that he busted out of his jock-strap. And, wow, did they ever get inspired! The male testosterone-driven sexual energy just filled the place. One other part of Grant’s “personality” is that he is absolutely 100% dedicated to me. He always wants to know “how I’m doing” or what I need or am feeling. He is not distracted by the other guys, no matter how built or good-looking they are. He’s told me he would decline a 3-way with another guy if I were not completely on-board. Shit, what more can a gay guy ask from his personal muscle-god? Even though we haven’t hit the weights yet, I know he will hover over me to make sure I lift safely and feel good about the progress I am making. He is so cute when I ask him what does he need from me. He says, “Just your company, close, real close, Paul, my special friend.” He forgets that he gave me an amazing gift earlier this afternoon. Early on I told him I was embarrassed that my cock is small. Even when I get it hard, it still is small. Without a word, he pulled me over to him, and wrapped his huge hairy hands around my cock. He concentrated. Maybe he was even praying. I felt a tingling for about 15 seconds and he pulled his hand away. Fuck, my former small soft cock was now a certifiably big soft cock. He rubbed it for a bit and, damn, I got at least an 8 inch hard-on. Just like that. Of course, I was both very shocked and extremely overjoyed. He wouldn’t explain how. He just said to be grateful. I was. He also forgot that I started to run “out of gas” with all the sex we were having. Yet, I had delivered two of the biggest loads I’ve ever experienced, one right after the other. So, I felt depleted. I told him that and apologized profusely. He looked at me so lovingly, leaned back, pulled his big monster out. He asked me to make him hard. That took no time at all. Then he asked me to give him a blow-job and be sure to keep him in my mouth so I could swallow all his cum. He promised me it would be sweet tasting. What a joy to have him fill me that way. I was so proud of being able to get all of his cock and crown into my mouth and throat, and helping him cum, that I completely ignored this nearly instant sense of invigoration I felt throughout my body. It was like someone had hooked me to a live wire. He said that was one of the benefits of “consuming” him. His sperm is just filled with what mortal men need to go as long as they want. And I sure as hell did for this entire day. Shit, what an experience that was. Another totally unexpected gift from a most unexpected but very welcomed hunk of hyper-masculine male. Now, that brings us to all of these gym muscle monsters – near naked – and Grant – naked -- and me, with the gym all to ourselves. Taking the Musclegod Worshipping Orgy Up a Notch Grant came back over to me and wondered if I was okay with he and the guys taking a shower together and “trying out some stuff”. He made it clear he wanted me to join them, if I felt comfortable. Before my new dick, I would have said an unequivocal “no.” Now that I knew I could easily sport an 8” hard-on, I was an enthusiastic “yes”. He grinned and said he wanted to show them how strong he was, yet not let on that he had, in fact, unlimited strength. I suggested that they would probably love being “manhandled”, lifted, and otherwise be dominated by him. He agreed and said he “had a few ideas” along those lines. Then, much to my surprise, he gave me my first public kiss. I did not hesitate to reciprocate. We locked lips – it seemed like forever – and no one seemed to care one bit. He was already hard and “punching me” in my gut with his huge cock. I “punched” him back with my own. We both gave each other very knowing grins. “Okay, men, let’s hit the showers and feel what muscle really feels like slicked up under nice hot water.” Grant barked this out like a drill instructor. I was overwhelmed at watching these eight huge and massive musclemen strip out of all their sweaty clothes as fast as they could. Piles thrown everywhere. Even Gus, the old manager, got into the action. “Thank God I’ve got a good lock on that front door,” he remarked to me with look of relief. Grant, already naked and displaying himself to his full glory, including a big hard cock that stood straight out, went in the large shower area first and turned on the four nozzles. No cubicles. Just wide open space. The hot water and steam kicked in quickly and surrounded him with a light mist. It looked like he was descending from the clouds. His muscles shown so brightly, even more than they had under the lights during his posing and stripping exhibition in the weight area. He started posing – more for himself, at least at this point. This was a perfect picture of an extraordinary muscle-god, surrounded by mist, clouds, and water. The water just cascaded down his massive muscles and cuts. Thank god I was there to take it all in – all of him. The guys had consumed a fair amount of Gus’s liquor in the last few hours of muscle-worshipping Grant. It was clear there were few, if any, inhibitions left among these muscle monsters. Some were built short but very thick, very wide, and very massive. Of those, some looked like former power lifters who could have beaten anyone in the World’s Strongest Man competition. Any of them looked like they could bend thick bars of steel at a moments notice. I reminded myself to ask some of them about that later to see what they could show me with their strength…despite the fact that I had Grant. I had some quick and cock-hardening fantasies of their performing feats of strength for me, with me slowly and reverently feeling their thick bodies and hard-flexed muscles while they did them. Lots of hair on many of these guys. That’s real sexy in my book. Especially when the water matted it down on their back, chest, and arms. Cocks were average size, except for one big uncut guy. He flaunted it, of course. It was cute to see them wander over to Grant and just hang around him. Some were bold enough to ask him to flex his muscles so they could feel them. And when he did, boy, did they ever work him over. As bodybuilders, they knew how to appreciate each crevasse, each indentation, each cord, and each strip of muscle tissue. Grant loved the attention and the deep admiration from these guys. Then there were a couple of gorgeous competitive bodybuilders that had manhandled Grant and his package earlier. They seemed a bit more shy. I don’t know why. Except they could not help but compare themselves to Grant’s immensity, as many of the other guys were, as well. A couple of them got together and started to compare their flexed quads. They were huge and cut, no question. Standing very close to each other, they did an abdominals and hands behind the head pose to show off their etched abs and obliques. Each shifting side to side to show it all off. The water continued to find all sorts of new routes down their flexed muscles. One started to get hard. He didn’t care. So the next guy got hard. Before I knew it they were having “sword play” with their hard cocks. God, that was a sight I never thought I’d see. They “whapped” each other hard, then they stepped forward and tried to jam their cocks into each other’s abs. Then before I knew it, they exploded into laughter, grabbing each other in a bear hug, and sandwiching their hard cocks between each other’s bulging brick-like ab muscles. Their “hug” was more like a mutual fuck of each other’s hard-muscled bodies. Shit, I’d wish I had had a camera. Or, better yet, I wish I had been right in the middle and sandwiched between them as they body-fucked each other. All of this with water streaming down their muscles and being surrounded by clouds of hot mist. Meantime, I stepped into the shower and, feeling much more secure and with more bravado then I ever would have had in my life, went up to one really tall, handsome, and built guy and told him how sexy he looked to me. He didn’t miss a beat. “So, Paul, friend of Grant, what do you like about what you see? By the way, my name is Todd.” “Fuck, where do I start. I have a mental list,” I said excitedly. “Well, start at the top and keep going,” he instructed. “First, it is so sexy to see the water run off down your chest, especially your deep cleavage, down your cut abs, and then drip off your big cock.” I couldn’t believe I was talking this way to a muscle-god that wasn’t Grant. “Keep going,” he said with a smile of understanding. “You are so much taller than me and, as you know, I think tall guys, especially when they are built like you, are so fuckin’ hot, so fuckin’ hot. It’s like all you need to do is stand there and I’ll get hard,” I added somewhat sheepishly. “Yeah, I get that a lot,” he said. “You should see me when I do some nude wrestling for pay. Talk about domination. The guys always get hard and end up feeling up all my flexed muscles. I love it,” Todd remarked with pride. Then their big treat is when I fuck the hell out of them,” he added proudly. “If I like them, I’ll let them fuck me, and that really gets their juices going,” he added matter-of-factly. He was looking at me with a big shit-eating grin. Out of the blue I asked him if I could wash him all over. He said, “Be my guest. I’ll flex each muscle as you wash it so you can get the full benefit,” he offered. I started with his back, a handful of liquid soap, and he gave me a back lat spread that made me so damn hard I thought I’d explode. I worked over his top lats, and his upper arms and rear delts which he danced for me as I touched each part. God they were hard…and so big…all of them. Then I took some soap and went down his back to his ass which, of course, he flexed for me. The striations in his glutes were astounding. I decided not to do his butt hole, though I came close to it. Down the backs of his flexed legs, slowly massaging each cord and crevasse. He was groaning and kept saying “yeah, yeah, yeah…right there, Paul…yeah, right there.” I knew he was enjoying this as much as I was. I came around to his front and he said “Now, for the big time little buddy, the big time.” I knew exactly what he meant. Grant was much bigger and more cut. But I was far from bored. This guy gave me an explosive double-bi and kept pumping it. I washed it all, feeling each and every muscle, the tissue (his fat was less than 5% I guessed), and the cords. I loved tracing the big veins that ran the length of his humongous arms. He had hairy arm pits. I just gave it my all in getting those pits clean and feeling the cords that collect and bury themselves in the pits of this muscle-god. Then his chest…his chest. Fuck, what a feeling of sensory overload that was. He expanded, drilled down, and expanded it some more. He flexed each pec so the muscles in each pec literally rolled back – one at a time -- from the tit to the base of the pec. His light coat of hair made him seem even more sexy. I couldn’t get enough of the hugeness and the hardness. I was the one groaning now. In fact, we both were groaning. Tearing myself away from his chest, I moved down and soaped up his abs and obliques which he obligingly flexed and flexed again. He was unstoppable. He was being another hyper-masculine muscle-god. The water trails were unbelievably erotic. And I now was looking down and paying close attention to his big thick cock. Not real long, but it was straight out and real hard. Muscles, veins and cords up and down the shaft with a nice big crown on it. I looked at him with inquiring eyes and he said, “Yep, I think I need my monster cleaned, too, Paul. You up for that?” “Fuck, yes. You’re beautiful,” I said enthusiastically. With a new supply of soap, I grabbed his manhood with both my hands and gave it one hell of a rub-down. Up, and down, and back….squeezing…letting go…squeezing…. pulling on the head with my fingers. The water and his buckets of pre-cum really slicked his cock up big time. Boy, his groaning just exploded into near screams of ecstasy. I had no idea I could be this good doing this. Or, maybe he just hadn’t been serviced like this for a while. Probably the latter. Then, before I knew it, his body shook, then froze, then shook again, and he hollered a pile of expletives, and his dam broke through his piss slit right into my hand. I kept pumping and pulling and shoved his cum back up his cock for more lube. More spurts. More total body flexing. And even more spurts. “Oh god, Paul, god, you were great…thank you, man…that was just awesome…drained me dry….will Grant let me take you home with me?” he asked breathlessly. “I don’t know, you’d need to ask him,” I said respectfully. That was one hell of a compliment. It meant a lot to me. “I guess it’s what’s going on here tonight that has us all juiced up,” Todd added. I took some more soap and lovingly cleaned his cock of the cum while he stood there in the quasi-relaxed pose that competitors learn while they are on stage. He squared his very broad shoulders. Shook out his massive arms. And “assumed the position” – his big cock still with a partial hard-on. I gave it a tug and a squeeze for good measure. He gave me back a big toothy grin. He was so damn sexy looking. I thought about a three-some with Grant. Maybe. We’ll see. Meanwhile: Grant Puts On Another Show “Yeah, yeah, fuck your muscle-god. Fuck my hard body. Put all that big muscle of yours into action. Let me have it. I can take it….Damn, now you’re doing it.” Grant was demanding more – demanding all the muscle and strength from a very powerful muscle-man – a 270lb plus behemoth muscle-man that he had hoisted into his arms with his big hands by grabbing the guy’s ass and holding up and into Grant’s huge body. The guy had his own big arms up and around Grant’s exploding traps, hanging on for dear life and pumping himself into Grant’s rock-hard abs. “Damn, Grant, you are one extremely strong man. Never seen the likes of a guy like you before. You are damn near inhuman,” he said, not knowing the irony he just spoke. The spray of the water from the nozzle seemed to envelope these guys as if they were in some kind of cloud dream. Shit, Grant and I had come close to this scene earlier today but this muscle-man, given his very big and powerful body, was really making this into another way to do a total body fuck. “Yeah, jam that hard cock into my abs…jam it…I need to feel that cock of yours trying to punch a hole in my muscles…I know… I am impervious…you’re just finding out how much so,” Grant said proudly. “Harder man, harder. Yeah, you are bouncing off me. No shit. Everybody else will too. That’s why I’m you’re muscle-god and you’re mine,” Grant bragged. “Had enough, big guy?” queried Grant. “Fuck me, you are something else, Grant. I say again, I have never met such a strong man before and who was so damn hard – all over. My cock is rubbed raw from your abs. And it sure as shit feels good,” the muscle-man said appreciatively. Grant let him down slowly. The guy wobbled for a few moments trying to regain his composure and his balance. His cock was still hard. Grant gave us a few triumphant poses, especially an eye-popping most muscular where his traps busted out of his neck even more. “Who’s next?” Grant demanded, as the guy melted back into the mists of the shower room -- into a little bit of heaven. A couple of very big but short guys came up together, their hard cocks swaying back and forth. Their cocks were pretty small compared to Grant’s cock that just never went soft – always hard and always sticking out straight. They said they wanted to hang on Grant’s biceps while he flexed them up and down. They were short enough and Grant was certainly tall enough so that Grant’s lifting and flexing would definitely take them off the ground. “Okay, guys, you’ll need to use both your hands and wrap them around these monsters of mine, and clasp your hands together. You’re in for one hell of a ride,” Grant announced matter-of-factly. What a sight. Two big muscle men and the inhumanly monstrous size of Grant. He put his arms out and dropped them a bit so the men could grab on. Then, with no apparent effort whatsoever, he lifted them both off the ground at the same time. “Ready for the ride?” Grant asked. “Give it to us,” they responded. With that Grant started to pump and flex, and pump even harder. As Grant’s biceps literally morphed into mountains of striated muscle, the guys were lifted off the ground even more. The rest of the guys were hollering and cat-calling and cheering Grant on. Grant raised his massive flexed arms even further and the guys were off the ground even more. He raised and lowered his flexed arms really fast – like he was working 10 pound weights. These guys had a shocked look on their face. They struggled to keep their hands clasped while the water cascaded down from the nozzle right over Grant’s shoulder. More cheering and more hard cocks everywhere. When the “ride” was over, both guys went after Grant’s pumped and veined arms – licking the sweat and water off, and demanding Grant flex them some more so they could wrap their hands around these mountains of steel and muscle. They wanted to feel – even more -- the incredible hardness and power Grant possessed. Grant, in a playful gesture, grabbed both of their hard cocks at the same time and gave them some heavy-duty pumps and squeezes. All this muscle was way too much for both of them. In no time at all, both spewed their cum all over Grant’s big and cut quads. “That’s what I like boys, some appreciation,” he commented with a leer. “I’d say you were ready to let loose, right? That’s just what happens when guys are with me, on me, and use me” Grant said in a bit of a mocking tone. They were too busy mauling his arms to say much of anything, other than “thank you, thank you.” It’s funny how Grant has a way to take big strong massive macho men and turn them into worshipping adolescents. More Cum from More Musclegods “Since you guys seem to really get into fucking my muscles, let’s try something else. I need two more volunteers,” announced Grant. I had no idea what he was up to. Two really big and built guys came forward. Grant told them to turn around and give the group their best poses. He’d pose with them. What an amazing sight. Grant, in all his massive glory, had two competitive muscle-gods posing their asses off on either side of him. The sexual tension between the three of them was thrilling. Grant barked out the poses and all three did them in graceful unison: “double-bi,” “side chest,” “abs and quad,” “front lat,” “most muscular,” “back lat,” “rear double-bi,” and “side chest, again.” That was one of Grant’s favorite poses. He looked absolutely awesome. So did the other guys. They loved being up there with him, their new real-time muscle-god hero. All men were hard as hell and were proud to wave their cocks back and forth as they shifted from one pose to another. The two muscle-gods on either side of Grant were totally into their flexing and showing off their hard-earned muscles, mass, and cuts. Their cocks, like everyone else’s, were hard and sticking straight out. Grant, nevertheless, was the centerpiece…the god of gods…his posing was flawless, explosive, cock-hardening, and demanding of being worshipped. For me, it has always been the case that male bodybuilders and muscle-gods are sex personified. Their muscular and built bodies just exude pure sex. They can just stand there – in posing briefs, a few street clothes, or naked -- and “be” sex. That’s hard-wired into me, too. Having established themselves as muscle-gods in their own right, they stopped their posing and turned and faced Grant. Grant positioned them close into him and near each other. Again, I couldn’t figure out what this would be about. “Okay guys. Yes, you’re big, very big, and you’ve got lots of competition winning muscle. Everyone can see that. Now let’s show them who the real muscle-god is.” Grant was getting even more fired up – if that was possible. He dropped his arms and shoved each arm in between the legs of each muscle god. They jumped in surprise. “Hold on, guys, I got you,” Grant reassured them. He shoved his forearms thru their massive legs and pulled them in tight. Their hard cocks were now jammed high up into Grant’s huge biceps. As they leaned into Grant and his arms, he lifted them up with ease. He easily bounced them to get their crotches settled into his own elbow crotch. They both let out a yelp as their hard cock smashed into Grant’s now hard bicep. Their hands flew up and around his massive neck column of cords and huge hard trap muscles. They were like kids wrapping their arms around a huge muscle daddy that was gonna give them a ride. They needed to keep their balance for the muscle ride of their life. “Now, do what I know you want to do…each of you, fuck my bicep…fuck it hard…make love to it…drive those hard cocks of yours, hard…into my massive bicep. I want you to cum all over my bicep and shoulder,” demanded Grant. He bounced his arms up and down to egg them on. It was unreal to see these huge bodybuilders, each with Grant’s arms thru their crotches, with Grant’s hands spread broad all over each ass, with his forearm in their butt cracks. Grant was holding them up, bouncing them, pulling his arm into them, and flexing, without any apparent effort. These two musclemen, each with their hard butts way up in the air, had their butt cracks jammed tight and manhandled by Grant’s muscular and vein-riddled forearm. All this and water kept cascading down on the three guys making it look almost unreal. The rest of the guys, under the showers themselves, were just going nuts. Some went and grabbed their cellphone cameras from their gear and couldn’t stop taking pictures of this extraordinary display of power, muscle and sex. Most guys were beating their meat with complete abandon. Some beat their meat with one hand and mauled the muscles of another muscleman with their other hand. They were gettin’ it both ways. “Come on…yeah…fuck me guys…fuck these huge and hard biceps…hump me, hard….” Grant demanded once again. Both guys wrapped themselves even tighter around Grant’s neck as their cum began to churn deep and rise. As they hollered their own expletives of joy and total rapture with their fucking of Grant’s biceps, each of them extended their inner arm grabbed each other around their shoulders and began humping on Grant’s rock-hard biceps together – in unison. I was beating my own 8” furiously, loving the warm water blasting on my body, and seeing all these muscle men completely turn themselves over to Grant’s awe-inspiring show of unlimited strength, extraordinary muscle, and sexual power that defied the powers of men, even muscle-gods. There’s never been a shower scene like this in any gym. I am sure of that. “Hey, somebody grab my muscle cock and get me off,” Grant demanded, again. The big guy, Todd, the one I had been worshipping moments earlier, went over, and got down on his knees in front of Grant. He took both of his hands and wrapped them around Grant’s long and thick steel pole. He brought his mouth to Grant’s crown and began licking it all over. “Fuck, yeah, man….lick it hard…sink your teeth into me…let me know you’re there, buddy….yeah, lick this monster,” Grant groaned. It was amazing and a hell of a turn-on to watch Todd’s huge back muscles move and grow as he worked Grant over. It was even more amazing to watch Grant truly be the musclegod centerpiece – with one 250 pound musclegod each lifted high on each arm fucking the hell out of his biceps, and another musclegod giving Grant a hand and blow job. What a picture! Grant caught my eye, looked at me and gave me a big grin. The guys could not stop cheering. One guy screamed, “Oh fuck me, fuck me, you’re the strongest man in the world!” I could see Grant mouth something to me like “There’s more for you when we get home. Hope you can wait.” I nodded a “yes” and “I’m lovin’ this. You’re awesome!” Amidst all the hot steam and hot water, a chorus of musclemen started to chant to all four – “Let it go!” “Let it go!” and more and more “Let it go!” chants followed. An erotic rhythm got going. The two musclemen on Grant’s arms bucked even harder – massive shoulder to massive shoulder. Todd, the big guy sucking Grant, felt Grant start pumping his monster cock into his squeezing tube of encircled hands. Todd…without touching himself…started to shake and freeze, and shake and freeze again. Then he let out with multiple bursts of cum that only a few of us could see, while he still had his mouth full of Grant’s near-the-edge cock. The guys on Grant’s biceps felt Grant start pumping his arms even harder as he was beginning to get into his own cock-shattering climax. He looked like he was almost hurting them with the power he was using in his arms to press them into his bicep. Yet, they still looked like they were enraptured and enjoying every moment of this extraordinary display of inhuman strength and power. Then, at just about the same time, they both let out volleys of cum – with accompanying screams of ecstasy -- that went all over Grant’s biceps and shoulders. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I wanted and I know you wanted. Cum. Lots of cum, everywhere. All because you fucked my rock-hard bicep until you couldn’t hold it anymore,” exclaimed Grant. “Nothing beats fucking hard, hard muscle, nothing!” added Grant with great joy and satisfaction. Meanwhile, Todd was expertly bringing huge Grant even further out to the edge of losing orgasmic control. And he wanted an infusion of Grant’s very special testosterone. No question about that. And he got it when Grant let out a blood-curdling roar and pumped and jammed his cock into this guy’s throat at least six times. Grant was doing this so hard that Todd almost lost his balance each time. But he kept his mouth locked around Grant’s cock so he wouldn’t miss a drop of cum. Grant had also started another posing routine while this was going on – and with the guys still on his arms, no less. God, he just never stops. The guys were dumbfounded at his tremendous strength. Grant slowly let these two muscle behemoths down of his arms and shook them out like he does this kind of thing every day. Todd sat back on his butt to rest. Grant looked very pleased with himself. They all were streaming rivulets of hot water and cum over their entire muscle-encased bodies, wrapped in billows of steam. I could see the joy and satisfaction on all their faces. They loved gettin’ it on together. They loved Grant for his sexual and unheard of, cock-hardening strength and physical power, and for his willingness to bring other musclegods to new heights of sexual and muscle-worshipping overload. Many deeply hidden and unspoken fantasies were being fulfilled this afternoon. More Astonishing Feats of Strength, Sexual Stamina, and a Posedown Thru the hot mists of the shower, Grant came over me with a slightly apologetic look on his face. Fuck, he is so impossibly big and so handsome…I always seem to be in awe of him. With a sexy grin on his face, he said, “I’ve got a couple of ideas to wrap up our time together with these guys. I’m sure it’ll be a turn-on for you and for them. I know I’m turned on and want to show them a few more tricks I have up my sleeve. I hope you’re game and not feeling ignored by me.” “Grant, my special friend, I am so excited to be with you and be here with these other muscle-gods. No, I’m in seventh-heaven with all your displays of unbelievable strength, muscularity, and inhuman sexual stamina. And, it’s a real hoot to watch these guys just get completely uninhibited with you and with each other. Gus, the manager, is already talking about all sorts of what he calls “exhibitions.” Go at it,” I said encouragingly. “Next up guys,” Grant started to announce in his deep booming voice, standing tall, broad, and very handsome in the center of the showers and billows of steam, “is an informal posedown. The winners get me as the prize.” A bunch of excited murmurs came out of the guys. Once again, I had no idea what Grant had in mind. “I’ll tell you more as we go along. While we won’t be handing out ribbons or trophies, I’m sure you’ll like the prize,” he added with a laugh. “To make this fair, I want the super heavyweights on one side of the showers and the heavyweights on the other side. You know who you are. I don’t think we have any other classes here. Ok, move,” he instructed. Like excited kids they shuffled their huge naked bodies around – all in their muscular naked glory and most still sporting hard-ons. Many had no reservations whatsoever about groping each others muscles and cocks. The sexual energy was pervasive. Fuck, what a feast of muscle eye candy – for all of us. “As I think most of you sense, bodybuilding competitions sometime in the future are, at least for men, going to be in the nude. Just like we are today, though probably not in a shower room.” A bunch of chuckles and laughter followed that last comment. Grant continued, “A lot of the same criteria will apply: mass, cut, proportions, and vascularity. I hope cock size is not a criteria. It shouldn’t be. It won’t be today.” Grant added: “While you’ll be doing your posing “cold”, without the benefit of warm-ups with weights, hopefully our time in these hot showers and our fun and games, have most of you pumped up sufficiently for a good display of all your hard work,” he explained with a sexy leer on his face. There seemed to be a general nodding in agreement. “I’ll call out the poses, one group at a time, and you’ll put it all out there. The other group will be the judge of the winner from the posing group. Any questions?” he asked. Just silence and anticipation. “Ok, heavyweights, you’re up. Since the hot water seems to be holding out, let’s use that as the backdrop. It’s damn sexy to see you guys under the showers and watch the water splash down over your muscles. So, stand in the showers.” The four heavyweights moved into an extraordinary line of muscle and cock eye-candy with the water cascading down their bulging muscles and dripping off their hard cocks. “Relaxed,” Grant barked. They all assume the position. It’s an awesome sight of meat, muscle, and cock. “Double-bi.” “Side chest.” They move around a bit to give or get some more space. “Front lat.” “Abdominals with extended quad.” The differences are showing up big time. There are one or two guys that seem to have it all. Some, because they are power lifters, seem to struggle with the poses. But their mass is unbelievable. “Most muscular.” One guy’s traps are mind-blowing in their height on his neck and size. Another’s vascularity makes him look like a walking sex machine. “Back lat.” They all move around and finally have enough space to expand. The power lifter is astounding in his width. “Rear double bi”. A couple have the experience to pump different muscles in this pose and really put on a show. “Last pose. Front double bi.” They all turn around and really work to give us a show. Some have great size and bulk. Others have a peak. A couple have some great vascularity. “Thanks guys, that was really great. Let’s give them all a round of applause.” Lots of hoots and hollers from the super heavyweights. I love the camaraderie that Grant has created with all these monsters. “By applause and any form of hollers, cast your vote,” and with that Grant walked in front of each. All got some applause and hoots. But the last guy clearly won it. He was not very tall but he clearly was a competitive bodybuilder. Great mass, proportions, and cuts. Lots of vascularity. And his posing was very polished. Grant gave him a big hug and he reciprocated. They held it much longer than might be normal. It was a muscle-body, physique fuck. And, this was not a normal “event”. Grant told him to get ready soon for his prize and he whacked him gently on his hard cock a few times. The guy was overjoyed at his win and at this attention from his new found muscle-god. He gave us a great peaked double-bi just for the heck of it. “Alright, super heavyweights, you’re up,” barked Grant. Again, standing under the spray of water and surrounded by wisps of steam, these gorgeous massive hunks of manhood shuffled into a line. Holy shit, what an astounding group of very big and built guys. To accommodate their consistently huge shoulder width, they had to spread out beyond where the heavyweights stood. All my favorites were in this group. No surprise, there. And, it was unavoidable to ignore, of the four, three were really hung with some big cocks and balls. What a sight! “Relaxed.” They all assume the position, just like the heavyweights. My god, I never would have imagined such a sight of built and sexy muscle. “Double-bi.” “Side chest.” They did a lot more moving around to get into their “competitive space.” Each seemed on a mission to get Grant’s prize. “Front lat.” “Abdominals with extended quad.” This was going to be hard. All seemed to be competitive bodybuilders. Yet, there were clear differences in mass, cuts and proportion. All were very good posers and knew how to show their best and hide their weaknesses. “Most muscular.” To a man, their mind-boggling, cock-hardening traps were fabulous. I have always thought traps were like a signal of sexual capacity and stamina …sort of like primitive animals. “Back lat.” After the shuffling, they each had the space they wanted to take those breaths, pull in their back muscles and explode their lats. I had fantasies of grabbing each of them from around their back and humping their backs until I came. “Rear double bi”. Like the previous group, these guys knew how to milk this pose and show all their rear arm and upper back muscles. The water just made them all glisten like they were beautifully oiled. “Last pose. Front double bi.” They all turned around and, like the heavyweights, really worked to give us an arm show. Some have both huge mass and peaks. Some have amazing vascularity. One behemoth seems to have it all, including a set of forearms that I’d love to lick. Grant walks up in front of each “contestant.” Once again, there’s plenty of enthusiastic appreciation and admiration for all these guys. After he’s done, he comes back to number two and announces him as the winner. The room just explodes in cheers. This is Todd, the guy that I had worshipped earlier in the afternoon. I was real excited for him. While much smaller than Grant, he is still a very, very big man compared to normal men. He has great mass, deep cuts, a fabulous V shape, and his body fat is so low that his vascularity is astounding. And, god knows, he’s got one very big beautiful cock. He’s all smiles and gives us a really pumped up double-bi, followed by a side chest pose that would make most guys instantly cream in their pants. “What’s your name stud?” asks Grant. “Todd, sir,” he says respectively. “OK Todd, you get me as your prize. How do ya’ like that?” Todd is speechless. “ Here’s how it's gonna’ work, Todd” explains Grant. “I’m going to give you first choice of me over Stan the heavyweight winner. What would you like to do with me? You have two choices. Everyone was dead silent, wondering what Grant would offer. Would you like to fuck me in my hard-muscled butt and be massaged into a mind-blowing orgasm by my butt muscles? Or, would you like to be fucked by me, and have my big hard cock drive up into you, let a load loose, while you let your own load loose?” Grant says this with another knowing leer and yet it is still so matter-of-fact. The room stays completely silent. Grant has been reading these guys since we started. He knows they have a lot of hidden fantasies about him and what each would like to do to or with him. The fun we’ve had in showers up to now was, as they are now finding out, a kind of prelude. Todd looks more than a little rattled. The guys start screaming encouragement and giving him lots of advice on which choice to make. All are wishing they had the same choice with Grant. “Well, hell, Grant, it would be an honor to fuck you as hard as I could, let a load loose in your beautiful hard butt and bring you to an orgasm at the same time. I’ve done it with other guys and I think I can do that for you,” said Todd with no small amount of confidence. “Great choice man. I’m all yours,” announced Grant. “Hey, Gus, bring in one of those wooden benches from the gym. We’ll need that to get started,” instructed Grant. After Gus brought the bench in and put it underneath the continuing sprays of water, Grant placed himself on the bench with his beautiful striated ass up in the air. I could tell we were all astounded that our hero, our muscle-god, was going to be a bottom to Todd, another muscle-god with one big long and thick cock. Grant told Todd not to worry about either of them being lubed. Grant said he always had enough lube in his ass for any situation. With that, Todd moved in behind Grant and brought his hard and veiny cock up to Grant’s ass hole, and paused. “Don’t worry, Todd. I’ve got a lot of flexibility,” reassured Grant. “It’s not you, it’s me I’m worried about. I don’t want to hurt my cock on your tight ass muscles,” Todd confessed. “I’ll handle that, Todd. I’m loosening up for you right now,” reported Grant. Todd brought his huge arms forward and leaned into Grant’s enormous back. Grant raised his big ass just a bit and Todd started to enter Grant. Todd relaxed noticeably and had a big grin on his face. “God, Grant, you feel so tight and so warm,” Todd cooed. “I’m all yours, Todd, all yours,” replied Grant. “Fuck my big muscle ass. Fuck the shit of it…fuck it hard. Pound me. That’s what I want from you. After all, you’re a muscle-god, too!” exclaimed Grant. Todd kept pushing in, slowly. While he did that, we could see Grant flexing his ass muscles to accommodate and literally massage Todd’s thick cock. It was a sight to behold. Two muscle-gods doing what so many want to do to each other and for each other, and are afraid to ask or even talk about it. Once Todd was all the way in and gyrating his own ass to touch all the spots in Grant’s ass, Grant did an amazing thing. He told Todd to grab him around the chest and stay as close into his ass as he could. Grant, using his own massive arms, reached around and grabbed Todd by his own ass. Once again, the room was silent except for the sound of the water. Grant stood up, holding Todd up close to him, and bounced him to make sure he was staying inserted. Grant’s unlimited, inhuman and otherwise unknown strength was not even being tested. Todd instinctively knew what to do and quickly moved his arms from Grant’s chest to up around Grant’s massive neck, where he clasped his hands together. “I do some of my best butt and anal flexing from this position, Todd. What do you think?” asked Grant in a very unassuming voice. Holy fuck! We were all speechless. All in shock. Todd was stunned. Before Todd could come up with an answer, the room once again erupted in cheers. Never had they seen a man, let alone a muscle-god like Grant, hold another muscle-god from the back and keep him inserted in his ass. This was reversing roles big time. Grant, no surprise, was now the “top” and Todd was the “bottom.” Only someone, some inhuman man like Grant, could pull this off. These guys knew it and were once again, astounded at Grant’s fantastic strength and muscular control. I very quickly made a mental note to myself that I wanted to do this with Grant when we got home. I started fantasizing about what other feats of strength he could do for me. Todd’s “answer” was to start pumping Grant’s ass like hell. Grant responded by visibly flexing, pumping and flexing his entire lower body. Todd started to groan and groan even louder. He was starting to cum at the same time Grant just pumped and flexed even more. Todd’s cock was getting an unheard of mashing, massage, and squeezing by Grant’s internal and external ass muscles. Then Todd let out his own roar and deep pumped Grant at least four times. We could tell he had just let loose with four major spurts of warm cum into Grant’s muscled ass. “Fuck, yeah, that’s what I like to see in my bottoms,” Grant announced proudly. “Now it’s my turn,” he added. Instantly and without touching himself, he let out some expletives and we all watched – in awe – as six thick ropy volleys of spurts go at least 4 feet onto the shower floor. Lots of cheers and “atta-boys.” Grant is just a non-stop cum making machine. “So, Todd, how was that for your prize?” asked Grant. Todd had slid down off of Grant’s back and turned around and gave him another big, long hug, and body fuck. “Oh, Grant, I never would have imagined this. Never in all my muscle-worshipping days. Never with another man. You are incredible. Your strength is just astounding. You are so damn sexy. I can’t get enough of you,” Todd exclaimed. Then he whispered into Grant’s ear, “It would also be an honor for me to go home with you and Paul. I’d make you both very happy that you made me part of a three-some,” he said imploringly. “We’ll see, Todd. I’ll talk with Paul. But thanks for the invitation!” Grant said sincerely. Stan Gets Special Treatment “Alright, Stan, our heavyweight winner. I think I’ve got a prize for you that will truly knock your socks off,” exclaimed Grant. Stan came over and stood next to Grant. The height difference was something else. Yet, what Stan may have lacked in height, he certainly had in mass, especially a set of shoulders that were beyond what most anybody else had in this group of muscle-gods – even in the super heavyweights. His huge thick arms just naturally hung way out from his body. His abs were breathtaking for their thickness and mass. His huge and cut quads and calves made him look very proportional. I guessed he was around 275 of very tightly packed pounds. And, fuck, he was so damn cute. He had a baby face with blue eyes and a light stubble. I loved his square chin and indentation in the middle. Very studly…very appropriate for a muscleman like him. “I hope you’ll like being a bottom to me,” asked Grant, with a little hesitation. “Yes, I’ve got a monster cock but I’m an expert at shaping it to fit most any guy and I know how to make it easy. As I told Todd, I’ve always got more lube coming from my cock than any of us needs,” he added enthusiastically. “Hell, yes, being a bottom for you – is a chance of a lifetime. I’ve never been with a muscle-god that had it all like you do – height, incredibly cut mass all over, vascularity, really Hollywood-like good looks, and such a beautiful big cock. I’ve taken some big one’s over the years. I think I can handle yours,” he added confidently. “And, you’re so god damn sexy, I can’t believe how you turn me on,” he blurted out, even surprising himself. “I know, Stan, I know. Thanks for the kudos,” said Grant humbly “Okay, Stan, get on the bench like I did for Todd before,” instructed Grant. “Show me that great big beautiful ass of yours. A little higher. Yeah….yeah…. I’ve already got the pre-cum going. You turn me on, too, Stan – big time. And there’s some lube in all of that, too. Just relax. I’ll take it slow and easy. I know my head is big,” Grant said reassuringly. Not to miss an opportunity, Grant started to pose while he began pushing himself into Stan’s ass. The guys started to clap. Stan didn’t understand why until the guys told him that Grant was posing while he was pushing into Stan. He was thrilled to be used this way by this one-of-a-kind muscle-god. That’s a second thing about Grant, not only is he a non-stop cum machine, but he’s a non-stop poser as well. God what an extraordinary sight to watch. As Grant continued to push deep into Stan, Stan looked like he had died and gone to heaven. He wiggled his butt to get the full effect of Grant’s huge steel pole. He backed up once and a while to get Grant to push in harder and deeper. Meanwhile, Grant kept giving us poses – double-bi’s, side chests, arms extended and flexed, and front lat spreads. Grant’s flexibility was amazing – that he could do all these poses and still drive hard into Stan. “Fuck, I love this guys. Fucking muscle is great. But fucking muscle-god ass and posing at the same time is something else. Makes me really horny,” exclaimed Grant. “Hell, you guys can do this among yourselves, from now on, right?” Grant demanded. There was a lot head nodding and “yes, sirs”. “Stan, you’re nice and tight, just the way I like it…nice and tight…yeah, I can feel you squeeze me…squeeze me again…yeah…I’m really in there tight and deep. Lovin’ it,” Grant said enthusiastically. “Now, let’s show these muscleheads a thing or two about fucking muscle,” Grant announced. “Relax. Don’t worry, I’m not pulling out yet, at least. I’m going to bring my arms around in front of you, grab you around your chest, and pull you into me,” explained Grant. “Oh, fuck, am I gonna go for a ride on your cock?” asked Stan very excitedly. “You got it,” announced Grant. Murmurs of encouragement and enthusiasm from the guys in the showers. With Stan firmly enveloped in his huge arms, and with Stan’s own big arms dangling at the side, Grant stood up straight – effortlessly. Yet, once again, Grant had shocked us. We were astounded. Thrilled to be present to see this friendly monster handle a smaller monster with such ease. Still deeply plugged into Stan’s ass, Grant started walking around showing the guys – up real close – what it looked like to have Stan impaled on his cock. His quads and calves were exploding in veined and hugely pumped muscles. Now, 275 pounds of muscle meat was nothing for Grant to hold up. Nothing for his big cock which everyone knew was doing a lot of the “holding up”. The guys just flocked to them and focused especially on feeling up Grant’s arm, back, and shoulder muscles. Again, these muscles and all of Stan’s were covered in water, glowing, and slick to the touch. Grant walked around like he was holding a rag doll – a massive muscleman rag doll, no less. No strain, no exertion. Stan was kept grabbing at Grant’s bulging and striated forearms and muttering “oh my god’s” one right after the other. When they weren’t worshipping Grant’s exploding arms, shoulders, and back, they were down feeling up the huge bulges in Grant’s glutes, quads, and calves. “Yeah, guys, feel it all. I’m a one man impaling machine. Feel these muscles do their work, compliments of our heavyweight, Stan,” Grant announced like a bull-horn. “Fuck, I could walk to the corner store and back and not feel the least bit tired. I just have all this power in me, everywhere, especially in my cock. Isn’t that right, Stan?” inquired Grant. “Fuck, yes, I’ve been a bottom but never carried on a guy’s cock like this. Grant, you are so fucking powerful..so damn strong…so sexy…I’m at a loss for words,” exclaimed Stan. “Well, if the cat’s got your tongue, maybe I can cure that if I pound your ass standing up,” announced Grant. With that, he pushed and pulled Stan back and forth on this cock, hard and heavy. He did this without moving his own body an inch. Such incredible power. Stan was delirious. Most the guys started jacking themselves off yet again and feeling up each other’s muscles. They were just totally inspired – as they had been all afternoon – by Grant and his inhuman power and sexuality. Stan started to beat himself off, too. It didn’t take long and he exploded in his own set of cum volleys out onto the shower floor. “Guess you like this, eh, Stan,” inquired Grant with no small amount of sarcasm. “We’re not through yet, Stan, good buddy,” announced Grant. In one swift motion, Grant pulled his right hand away and extended it out and began to flex his arm even more. The huge bicep and tricep, together with all the thick veins, was mind-boggling. At the same time, he just tightened his one-arm vice-like hold on Stan. The guys went nuts. Grant was walking Stan around, impaled on his indestructible cock, and holding him up with just one of his big arms. Stan was both shocked and stunned that Grant to do this to him without any effort whatsoever. We all started beating our meat even harder at this indescribable display of cock and arm strength by Grant. He paraded around so we all got a close look, feeling up both the bicep of his free arm, and the bicep and forearm of the arm holding Stan in place on his cock – and beating our cocks at the same time. We had learned well how to make the most of this extraordinary muscle-god’s presence. Bringing his free arm back, Grant lifted Stan off his steel pole. Like Todd before him, he was a little wobbly and needed to be steadied by Grant’s strong hands. Stan turned around and reached up and gave Grant the biggest and most powerful bearhug he could muster. “God, thanks man, you are absolutely one of a kind. I had no idea this could happen to me…let alone today…when I just came in for my regular workout.” Stan shared that looking directly into Grant’s seductive eyes. Through all of this I was mesmerized. I also stayed hard longer than I ever have. Due, no doubt to Grant’s infusion of his testosterone earlier today. I was also incredibly grateful to have had many fantasies fulfilled by Grant in the gym and in the showers. He gave of himself, unapologetically. He knew what these men wanted and what I had dreamed of for years. And he has the unlimited strength, height, mass and sexuality to give it all to them and me. And we were all very appreciative – stunned, really. All of them came around to congratulate him and welcome him and me to the gym. Some wanted to know our workout schedule. It was too early for that. Some wanted to know for sure that he could be their trainer. Again, too early for that. Gus told us that he wanted to do some marketing and figure out a financial agreement that would work for him and us. Grant, in his loving way, put his big huge arm around my shoulders and pulled me into him. He whispered how much he loved me, how much he appreciated my support, and hoped that he had made me happy today. I, of course, reassured him that I was forever his and loved how much he loved making me and others happy and helping our deeply desires come out in the open with other musclegods. We kissed…lip locked…and he, this time, let my tongue win. That’s just the kind of guy he is. And he’s all mine. Big ass naked Gus was unapologetically beside himself with enthusiasm and gratitude. He gave Grant a huge long hug – another body fuck. And then turned to me and apologized for not paying more attention to me. He told me that he would host me much better in my next visit. Since Grant had ripped out of his clothes, yet again, Gus was able to find some dry and super-sized clothes, that were still too tight, but that he could wear home. I got supplied by Gus as well. Before Grant and I walked out the door, we looked back into the shower room. They all gathered their huge wet bodies in the entrance to the shower and gave Grant boisterous loud cheers. Grant saluted them and they cheered even more. What a sight! So much masculine manhood. So many huge muscles. So much testosterone and sexual energy – all among very big men. I knew I’d be taking many more pictures next time. We left a little after dinner time to go home, have a meal, snuggle, and I’d explore his fantastic body and gorgeous face until I fell asleep, and he carried me into the bedroom. What an extraordinary, unpredictable, totally unbelievable day it had turned out to be for me…and for Grant. We’ve got something very special. I am so grateful I opened the front door earlier in the day. I can’t wait to see what we can do together, next. Feedback welcomed and appreciated No flames please Copyright [email protected]
  8. C J is a small guy that has a tremendous talent in drawing muscle growth on paper. This is a talent that he has honed over several years growing up as an outsider in not only school, but in society as a whole. His parents could never understand why he had no interest in ever finding someone to be with in real life. All he ever cared about was drawing whatever fantasies were in his head on paper. This infatuation with muscle growth would escalate into him actually attempting to inflate himself through various means by way of vacuum, air, water, or whatever he could find to manipulate his body. The swelling of his body makes him feel powerful, even though it is extremely temporary. He would look at himself in a giant mirror in his bedroom as his clothes would expand with whatever he could put inside them. One day unexpectedly, a hulking figure appears on the other side of his mirror. It speaks to him and says that it would like to fulfill his desire, but that he must give up his innocence to do so. He is puzzled as to what the humanlike figure is talking about. It walks out of his mirror and is an amazing specimen to behold. It touches his head as he feels an unreal rush of excitement racing through him. The feeling disappears once the figure turns back around and goes through the mirror. Without ever uttering a word, he makes a deal with the Muscle Genie. He is actually a very modest guy. He lives alone because he doesn't really identify with anyone. He does however talk on chat groups on his laptop since that is where he gets most of his ideas for his drawings. His obsession with inflating his body may become a major part of his life from this point on. As he goes to lay down for the night in his bed by the window, he feels a sense of ease as he tries to compile more ideas. He falls asleep after a few minutes and begins to dream about inflating his body again. With his extensive experience of stretching his skin for temporary periods of time, C J would have no issue with doing it again. Coming through the mirror, the Genie walks over to his bed and climbs in with him. It smiles as it moves in close to where he is sleeping. It uncovers him and pulls his boxers off his crotch. After looking at his flaccid cock for a few moments, it touches it and makes it jump slightly. C J moans and tries to move to his side before the Genie rolls him back over. It puts its other hand on his head to keep him calm. C J sighs as the feeling is so soothing. After keeping him motionless, it rubs his cock to wake it up. Incredibly, it starts stretching and pulling its way from inside his body getting longer and thicker. Once it is done growing, it has surpassed a foot in length. ‘Mmmmm that feels so amazing…..I want more.’ The Genie smiles again as it leans over and licks his stomach to make it react. C J grabs its head as he feels his abs and obliques pulsing and quivering. ‘Ahh yeah feels so good…..I want to feel them swelling.’ It obliges as extreme popping starts with each individual abdominal forcing their way out from his core. He moans as they start bloating themselves into distended shapes resembling more of a belly than muscles. ‘AHHH YES…..GIVE ME MORE! ! ! ! !’ It starts to move its way up his chest to his pecs which are starting to swell. C J moans uncontrollably in his slumber as he feels them starting to touch his chin. His nipples are now blowing up beyond silver dollars and continuing. The Genie can see now that he craves this more than anything since he is starting to spill precum all over his bed. It stands in front of him now and begins to rub its hands together. It makes a strange motion and points at his arms and legs. C J moans louder now as his arms blow up into huge vascular poles and his legs turn into massive tree trunks. His bed disintegrates under his weight as he continues to grow wildly. ‘*very deep voice* OH FUCK YEAH…..I WANT IT ALL! ! ! ! !’ His tiny head begins to swell up itself as the muscles start swelling bigger than before making his facial hair disappear under the pressure. He is hairless now as his skinny body has inflated into superhuman proportions. Instead of disappearing after this monstrous transformation, the Genie waits for C J to wake up to witness his changes. ‘Uhhh *he awakens*, WHA! *notices his voice change* OH MY GAWD! *stares at his hands and notices his beastly pecs and nipples* HOLY FUCK!’ He looks up and sees the Genie staring him in the face. It wants him to try and stand. It puts its hand out to grab his and pulls him up. He stumbles a few times after learning that he needs to conform to his new size. Each step he takes makes his apartment shake as stuff hops on the floor. The Genie opens a window for him to try and get through. When he tries to go through it, he ends up breaking the whole frame and it crashes down on him. The Genie grabs him quickly and pulls him away from the building. ‘Uhhh, that hurts a lot’, as he pulls huge glass slivers out of his back. The Genie tells him to stop moving so it can help ease his pain. It places its hands on his back and quickly heals him. When they get to an empty field, it stops and makes him stand motionless. It directs his eyes to stare into its own as it begins to inflate itself. Its original 7’ height is now beyond 9’ and continues to climb as it grows more muscular filling out more and more. ‘WOW MAN, I LOVE THIS SO MUCH.’ C J is blown away by the Genie’s ability to grow. It eventually gets to 15’ before some people start to notice something going on. While the being’s body is outrageous by C J’s terms, the young artist is no slouch either. His 6’5 440 pound frame will be hard to contain. The Genie eventually stops growing once it gets to 18’ and 10,000 pounds. It looks down at the tiny humans and smiles before evaporating into thin air. C J falls to the ground and lies there unconscious shrinking with each breath. Was this all a dream or did the Genie really bestow this gift to him? Perhaps one day he will know for sure. The Field Where I Grew ‘Ohh damn, my head hurts.’ CJ awakens back inside his bedroom as he hears someone unlocking the apartment door. ‘Hey there stranger, how’s it going…..WHOA Corey you look amazing. Did you decide to take in some gym time while I was gone?’ ‘Huh? Wait what……’ CJ looks down at his ripped muscles and smiles as he realizes that what happened a few hours ago really did happen. ‘Seriously Corey, you look great. Let me come over and take a closer look at your hot self.’ The surprised black man walks over and sits down on the bed to give his partner a nice rubdown feeling his hard muscular chest. They kiss a bit as CJ uncovers his lower body revealing his hard cock. ‘Did you miss this Colin? I know it has missed you quite a bit.’ ‘MMM Corey, you know how to entice me.’ He leans down to swallow CJ’s rod as the black man takes his jacket off to get more comfortable. He moves rapidly up and down on his lover making him writhe in pleasure. CJ makes him stop after a few minutes though to tell him something. ‘I want to tell you how my body got this way Colin, but you may think I am crazy. While I was toying with the idea of inflating myself, some strange alien came by and turned me into a huge muscle giant. It was awesome. I guess that as a result, I was able to keep some of this muscle.’ ‘Uhh alright…..I know how much you love to manipulate your body CJ, but this seems a bit strange. Anyway, can I finish sucking you off babe?’ CJ sits back and gets a look on his face that confuses Colin. ‘Wait Colin, I have an idea. Let’s go to the place where this happened. I want to see if it will happen again.’ Colin seems irritated by this especially since he just wants to relax and have a little fun with CJ. ‘Hmmm well for you babe I guess I will go along with it. It isn’t necessarily my thing, but I will do it for you.’ ‘Great, let me grab a t-shirt and some pants and we will go. You may love this more than you think sexy.’ CJ and Colin arrive at the field about ten minutes later. The confused black man watches as his lover rushes over to the spot that he is talking about. ‘Here is where it happened Colin. Now if only I could do it again…..*grabs his chest*…..OH SHIT!’ CJ begins to feel a rush of adrenaline passing through him as he feels his body starting to react. His muscles start to double up on each other as his shirt and pants completely shred to pieces. He feels himself rising as his feet and legs begin to push him higher into the air. His muscles nearly grow out of his skin as they make stretching and inflating sounds. Colin’s mouth gapes open as he witnesses his lover growing rapidly. ‘COREY!? WHAT THE FUCK…..IS HAPPENING TO YOU? HOLY SHIT MAN…..*sees this giant muscleman growing in front of him*…..THIS IS UNREAL!’ *deeper voice* ‘OHH YEAH COLIN, AND THIS TIME IT FEELS INCREDIBLE! LAST TIME THERE WAS PAIN, BUT THIS TIME I DON’T FEEL ANY OF THAT. FEELING MY MUSCLES GROWING WIDER AND WIDER IS MAKING ME SO HORNY! GET OVER HERE SO I CAN WATCH YOU BLOW UP JUST LIKE I HAVE! I WANT TO FEEL YOUR HOT BLACK MUSCLES EXPLODE IN MY HANDS!’ Colin feels his cock growing in his pants hearing CJ talk so dirty. He walks over slowly since CJ has now grown to over 300 pounds. Once he gets into the area of where his lover is, he can feel his own body reacting to some strange force. ‘OH MY GAWD MAN…..*voice deepens* *RIP…..RIP…..RIP* SHIT……*STRETCH* *SHRED*……FUCK YEAH…..*voice gets deeper*……MMMMM I FEEL SO FUCKING HORNY COREY……YEAH I WANT TO FUCKING GROW EVEN MORE…..*STRETCH*……’ Colin’s clothes rip completely off as his muscles explode in size. CJ finally stops growing once he passes 400 pounds as he sees his once small black lover growing in a huge Nubian giant. His skin has trouble keeping up with the pace of his growing muscles as he cups his own pecs in his hands feeling their massiveness nearly making him fall over. He begins to rise higher into the air just like CJ did as his feet and legs begin to grow longer. His arms continue to grow even after his massive quads and chest stop. He laughs as he watches his engorged biceps swell up bigger flexing them and feeling them rise above his head. CJ grabs him and starts to kiss him feeling his black lover expanding in his arms. Colin slaps his cock against his white lover’s legs as the two behemoths start making love again. ‘OHH COLIN…..FUCK MAN YOU HAVE NEVER LOOKED HOTTER! I TOLD YOU YOU WOULD LOVE THIS!’ ‘I HAD NO IDEA COREY THAT THIS WOULD FEEL SO INCREDIBLE! GAWD I CAN’T HELP BUT TO SUCK ON THESE HUGE BICEPS! *licks and sucks them* FUCK I CAN’T HOLD MY CUM IN BABE!’ CJ comes up with an idea. ‘HEHE LET’S SHOWER THIS WHOLE PARK WITH OUR SEED COLIN, IT WILL BE FUN HOT MAN!’ CJ strokes himself a little faster making his balls start to swell up. Colin sucks on his huge nips making his white lover yell as his voice echoes over the entire area. ‘SOUNDS GREAT TO ME BABE. I AM ALREADY LEAKING ALL OVER THE GROUND.’ CJ gets down on his knees to lap up the river flowing from Colin’s cock and moans deeply making the ground shake. With just a few strokes, the black giant rears back and shoots numerous rockets of white jizz all over his lover and the park. The goo makes the ground look like it just snowed. CJ decides to get up and strokes himself harder to join Colin in his ecstasy. ‘OH YEAH COLIN HERE COMES MY CONTRIBUTION!’ CJ shoots his massive load over the trees and into other parts of the park as him and his black giant lover continue to coat the park in white jizz. They both turn to look at each other and make out before falling to the ground to start taking turns fucking each other. Various emergency vehicles are heard in the background which does little to detract from the two behemoths love making. As they feel more cum building inside each other, they shoot more cum all over the park and even on each other as they swallow several gallons before passing out from the sheer exhaustion of the experience. After they fall asleep, they both shrink back to their original size and lie in a huge pool of cum. The emergency personnel find them unconscious and wonder what the hell happened to the park.
  9. The Culling Part 6 There was a tremendous, thunderous CRAAAAAASH! which echoed in the distance of the tunnel. I could see a small patch of sunlight which looked miles away in the otherwise complete darkness of the cave. There was a stillness in the air and I could hear my own ragged breathing echoing from the hard stone. The light from the staff I held played over the crags and valleys of Jedrek's immense muscles. He was taking up most of the width of the large tunnel he had created, my mind could not comprehend the power it had taken to break and shove the thousands of feet of the hard stone from the mountain's heart all the way through and out the other side. It would have taken an army of men years with heavy equipment to create such a tunnel and Jedrek had accomplished it in moments and with a sense of playfulness. I fought to hold on to my own consciousness in the face of such a casual display of power. Jedrek was studying my reaction taking in the dampness of my breeches near my manhood with a brief smile and then said softly, "Gregor, we have only a little ways to go." I nodded mutely. Jedrek was still too large to fit back into any of his clothing so he turned and proceeded into the darkness of the tunnel he had created just by flexing, pulling and shoving. We walked for hours over the craggy floor of the tunnel. Little bits of stray rubble remained from the enormous rock Jedrek had forced out. Eventually the tunnel opened up and we came out into, devastation. The countryside was twisted and deformed all around the other side of the mountain and nothing lived here. There was not even the smallest plant or sound of wildlife all was broken earth and odd deformed relics of life, broken and petrified. "The great plain of the folly of Fearghus and Eoghan," Jedrek said softly into the dead air. "Fearghus?" I asked softly, looking at the vista. The miles long piece of rock from the tunnel had shot out of the mountain and come to rest a full league away churning up rock and earth afresh as it had sped away. Large chunks had broken free and lay towering alongside the path matching the ancient violence with a new upheaval. "Of course the breeders never mention Fearghus when they tell the story, it makes the whole thing too disgusting, I suppose." Jedrek's voice broke the eerie silence of the place. "Fearghus was Eoghan's partner. The two of them knew when they were boys, that they desired men and Eoghan managed somehow to keep Fearghus from the culling and eventually get Fearghus into his personal guard. When they grew into manhood they eventually made love and they elevated to manhood. So it was the two of them that eventually destroyed the army of Durness." Jedrek turned to face the gaping maw in the face of the mountain that he had created. He lifted up his massively muscled pillar of a leg as if he were going to take a large step and slammed his foot on the ground. His foot easily broke the earth as I might break the crust on bread. BRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMM! The force of his stamp cracked the earth in front of him and a fissure ran down the path we had come into the cave. The mountain groaned, shifted changing the shape of its craggy height as it collapsed into itself sealing the newly created cave. Great chunks of earth spilled forward and a huge cloud of dust erupted from the mountain. After the rumbling of the earth subsided, Jedrek said darkly, "Any who follow us no longer can do so." He turned from the mountain he had half destroyed and faced the strange, twisted landscape. "We are very near our destination Gregor. You will soon be in Taiga, land of the brotherhood." Jedrek pulled on his clothes which ripped slightly as they could no longer accommodate his larger body. The path was hard traveling with unexpected drops and gaping holes that required much detouring. We moved slowly across it. I asked Jedrek, "Why take such a slow journey? A man with your power could surely jump or fly home." "Gregor, it is very rare when I bring one of the brotherhood, who has been raised by breeders, to Taiga. I have learned that making the journey slow helps prepare them for the shock of their new life." We continued on and I learned more of the story of the culling. It was an ancient practice, began when the world was very young by the wise women who, according to Jedrek, were jealous of the brotherhood's dominance of female and male magics. The men of the brotherhood were not only infinitely physically stronger than men who desired women but they could call on an endless amount of magical power and they were not limited to the male magics but could direct the forces of the earth with more force than even the most powerful of wise women. A deal was struck where the brotherhood were given the vast lands of Taiga without challenge and the tradition of the culling began in the rest of the world. King Durness had broken that deal and Eoghan and Fearghus exacted the horrible payment for that transgression: The destruction of the great empire of Erin, which left my own small country of Mediolanum a broken place full of misery and poverty. Even in Taiga there were never many of the brotherhood. "We make up about two percent of all the people in Taiga." Jedrek said. Seeing my confusion, he continued, "That is a very small portion, Gregor. You have so much to learn about this world." After five days travel across that ancient scar, we came to the path where Fearghus and Eoghan had met Durness' scouts so long ago. The land was again normal and I could hear birdsong. The thaw had truly come as there was green pressing through the gray of the melting ice and snow. We were now on a well marked path and made good time. Despite some of my dark thoughts about Jedrek's violence, I found myself looking forward to life in Taiga. We traveled through a rocky terrain once again and into a canyon which ended at two gigantic metal doors. There were runes inscribed on the doors. Jedrek sang a short song in his deep powerful voice and the runes on the doors rippled with a blue light and an audible metal clanking could be heard. The doors opened for us, slamming behind as we entered. The landscape was immediately changed. Cultivated lands crossed by paved roads bordered with sculptured trees. In the distance I could see a mighty city, giant with large buildings. Large metal vehicles streamed in from the side of the city and out. "The great city of Virilius. My heart beats proud every time I return," Jedrek said. Before we reached the city I could hear it. A vast clamor of productive noise, from the metallic clanking of the metal vehicles, distant chords of music, to the hum of human conversation could be heard even as the city was some distance from us. The city was beautiful, exotic marbles and threads of precious metals were worked into the construction of the mammoth buildings so their surfaces swirled with color and light. There were beautiful parks and I could see ornamental lakes tucked into small, inviting nooks in the landscape. All spoke to the taming of nature. The buildings were built large because there were so many huge men in this city. The muscular behemoths strode with carefree ease paying little heed to the small, frail (who I would have referred to as normal) people who scattered out of their way. The normal sized people clung to the margins of the paths and were obviously trying to avoid crossing in front of one of these giants of men. Jedrek matched and surpassed many of these men for size. But I was shocked to see that the men who looked to be older than Jedrek actually were bigger even than him. Their midsections were thicker with muscle as was every part of their bodies. Many of the men wore no covering on their upper bodies, so their huge chests which cantilevered over their overmuscled midsections could plainly be seen. I was surprised to see how different many of these men were from each other. While most were fair skinned like Jedrek, many of them had hair ranging from dark brown through Jedrek's red to yellow hair like gold. Some of the men even had very different skin color. There were a few men with deep brown skin and one or two with deep black skin color. More striking to me even than their size and skin color was the open affection some of these titans of muscle showed for each other. Some of the men held hands and I glimpsed at least two male couples kissing in the park. I had never thought I would see such open affection between men in my life. I could feel my eyes wet with tears as a yearning for this sight, that I had never known I had, suddenly felt fulfilled. It was if an unknown hollowness had been filled and it was a piece of my soul that was returned to me. I felt a wholeness and a naturalness I had not known before. Jedrek, looked back at me, his own eyes filled with pride and kindness, "It has been hard on you, Gregor, these many years." The "normal" people who skirted around these monolithic men were more numerous but much less diverse. They were generally a pale, light haired people who must have been the original people of these lands before the Brotherhood came. We came to one of the odd buildings massive but with many smaller lighter fixtures that marked it as a building of shared usage. Jedrek delicately opened the human sized door and led me into a spacious entryway. The room was lit not with torches but round globes of light affixed to the walls. Jedrek gestured me to sit down on a sturdy bench, saying, "Gregor, this is the school, where you will learn your skills, history, heritage. And this is where I take my leave of you," he paused and his eyes softened in the light, "it has been fair traveling. Change boils around you. If you accept your gifts, you will be one of our greatest." His large hand engulfed my shoulder as he gave it a very gentle squeeze and he looked into my eyes. Then he turned and left the room before I could thank him. And so Jedrek left me there in the Great School. Thus began my time learning. I at first sat with the smallest of boys painfully tracing letters but soon moved up through the classes to more advanced studies. Our teachers were all massive men, who gently guided us though our lessons. Besides my letters one of the first things I was taught was movement. How to control my body precisely. This lesson was forcefully taught to even the smallest boys. I thought at first it was to help them become better warriors but I soon reasoned it was also so the boys could control their incredibly powerful bodies when they were elevated to manhood. When a boy was found to be of the Brotherhood, usually as early as one or two years old, he was taken from his family to the Great School of Virilius. Many of the boys had come from outside the city but I was the only boy from outside Taiga who had been raised by "breeders" and so often the center of curiosity. There was an arrogance in them that disquieted me. They expected the crowds to part before them. While it was never stated, there was a sense that "breeders" and especially women who desired other women were less than human. Despite the beauty of many of the young men around me and despite their frequent kindness to me, this arrogance kept me distant from my fellow students. In my room there was a mirror. The first time I ever saw my own face was in that glass. I had rough light brown hair that never lay straight, skin that was lightly tanned, darker generally than my fellow students but not nearly as dark as some of the men I had seen. I had dark brown eyes and when I smiled my cheeks dimpled. My reflection at first was a stranger to me but I did think myself handsome. Others thought so too and I was often flattered by the other boys around me who wished my company. At fifteen and sixteen it was expected that some of us would elevate and sometimes I would hear the moaning in the night and see the next day, the fresh faced boys with the bodies of gods. They would usually be moved to other quarters shortly after to train among the other giants. However I stuck to my vow. One boy, a year younger than me was particularly persistent in my second year. His name was Sean and his hair was the color of sunlight and his eyes were deep blue. His skin had an even golden tan. He had many admirers that followed him but he was enamored of me. He often asked me to sit with him and occasionally would slip a flower into my hand. I tried to be friendly, but distant so he would not pursue me further, There was a preparation for a dance for the 16 and 17 year olds, I had, through hard study, recently joined my own age group in classes. I had few friends as I always was studying to catch up. One evening as I walked from the library to my room I saw Sean waiting impatiently pacing in front of my door. Some of his admirers were there watching me with jealous eyes. "Gregor," he smiled and spoke loudly for the others to hear, "you study excessively. You must put aside your books and come to the dance with me." I knew many of the boys planned to elevate that night. I suspected that the dance was scheduled to encourage us to elevate. No one had asked me to the previous year's dance but this year a few had asked me. I had refused all the invitations. I saw the desire in Sean's eyes, but I did not wish to elevate with him or anyone else. I stammered, "Th-thank you but I d-don't want to go with you." My voice dropped into the sound of several of his followers hissing in disbelief. Sean slammed his fist into my door, "You reject me! I thought you were saving yourself for me, Gregor. I thought you cared." His eyes were red and he was blinking away tears. I realized how blunt I had been, I tried to put a hand on his shoulder he shook it off, "I move like an oxen when I try to dance. I did not want to embarrass you." "That doesn't matter to me," Sean was crying openly, his followers had moved away giving us a space, "Ever since you came to school. You were different, I tried to help you fit in. I did it because I liked you. How could you humiliate me, Gregor?" I spoke softly, "Sean, this is the truth from my heart. This isn't about you. I do not wish to be with anyone or to elevate. I did not mean to hurt you, I don't mean to hurt anyone." He looked at me, intensely, "You aloof bastard!" and he ran down the hallway. My insides were swirling and I felt emotionally battered. I went in to my room and locked the door behind me. I collapsed on to my mattress and fell asleep. I was in the smith again and it was stifling hot. The air was filled with the sound of gigantic bellows blowing the fire hotter and hotter. I woke from the dream, my room was pitch black and hot. I was covered in sweat. I could see nothing, but I could feel an immense presence, I realized the sound of the monstrous bellows in my dreams was the breathing of something huge. The lights of my room suddenly came on and I saw a hulking chest swelling in time to the immense sound of breathing. The chest was perfectly golden tan. I looked up beyond the vast expanse of muscle. I took in my ruined door with the lock wrenched out of it. And then I saw Sean's handsome face contorted by rage. The Culling Part 7 I was staring at a furious golden behemoth of rippling muscle. Sean was that behemoth. His wide shoulders almost brushing both sides of my small chamber. I could barely see my ruined door past the vast expanse of his torso. Though his thick back was near the doorway of the room the vastness of his chest overhung my bed by several inches. I seemed to see nothing but those massive striated, mountains of muscle. The heat from Sean's body made the close room almost unbearably hot, I could not get a full breath. "Ah puny Gregor awakes," Sean sneered and moved closer, turning sideways to stand on one side of my bed, his chest hung over three quarters of my mattress, I moved away, where the other side of my bed rested next to the opposite wall. I noticed that Sean's clothes still were in tatters around his massive frame, the craggy masses of muscle had destroyed most of his clothes so only bits of rags clung to his newly grown body. "Congratulations, on your elevation, Sean," I croaked out the traditional words hoping to still his anger towards me. "You see I didn't need your pathetic little prick," one of Sean's muscled hands shot out, ripping my sleeping clothes from my body in one blinding motion, "touching me to become a man." Despite the heat, I was shivering pushing my shoulders into the wall behind me. "Gaze upon a real man, Gregor the insignificant!" He tore the remains of his breeches from his rippling midsection revealing his truly massive manhood. Even though he was not erect, his cock had almost the same girth of one of my skinny forearms and hung down swinging almost half the length of his tree trunk legs. His testicles also hung low and heavy, as fat peaches in full ripeness. I could smell the scent of him, his sweat, his musk, the recent bout of sex all clung to him. Even though his cock was soft, it dwarfed my own manhood significantly. I curled my legs up against my torso easily hiding my pathetic member. "Truly magnificent." he smiled fondling himself and bounced his chest, SSSLLAAAMMM! SSSLLAAAMMM! His pec muscles crashed down. The force of his muscle bounce slammed me back without even touching me. My head cracked the plaster behind me. "You are a meaningless insect I will barely notice crushing," I opened my mouth to scream for help. In a blur of motion one of Sean's monstrous hands engulfed the lower of part of my face completely smothering my cry. My jaw was completely immobile in his vise like grip. As if I weighed nothing, Sean lifted my body in the air. "First the insect must worship the god and beg for his life. I will honor you by allowing you to touch my magnificence, insect." Pain ran through my body as I dangled in his grip and I began shrieking in my mind for help. I pictured mighty Jedrek. "Why do you hesitate insect?" He gave my body a small shake a bare twitching of his wrist and I heard an audible crack from my back and pain like I had never known sheared across my senses. I almost blacked out. "Does it break so easily then?" I could not see Sean as he spoke because of the waves of pain that bled red into my vision. Suddenly the pressure on my face was gone and I was resting on my bed. I blinked up and saw the shaved head of Master Lorcan, one of our teachers. He clenched Sean's large forearm with his huge paw of a hand effortlessly crushing the hard muscles of the massive teenager's arm forcing him to drop me. His light brown goatee framed the grimace of his mouth. Sean for all his incredible muscle looked like a child next to the monstrous shirtless teacher. Master Lorcan's lightly furred and insanely thick chest plowed into Sean's comparatively puny pectorals forcing them to flatten backwards and submit to the teacher's superior strength and overwhelming size. "Ouch," Sean's deep voice whined as he struggled ineffectively against Master Lorcan's incredible power. Sean instinctively put his other hand up to block Master Lorcan where it looked childlike and vulnerable next to the vast, crushing muscularity of the teacher. Sean reminded me briefly of a house cat in the paws of a tiger. In a voice several times deeper than Sean's, Master Lorcan said, "You never attack a non-elevated brother." The teacher tossed Sean up to my ceiling with a twitch of his thick forearm. As Sean's body slammed into my ceiling the teacher sang a short line and red lines of power twined around Sean's body pinning him helplessly to my ceiling. Master Thornton turned to me, all anger vanished; his light brown eyes soft with concern. He crooned a sweet song and a healing warmth washed over me, my pain vanished. I sighed and suddenly felt very tired. I could feel the rock hard ripples of muscle in his arm as he carefully picked me up. "Sleep now, Gregor," he said softly, "All will be mended soon." I succumbed to the tiredness and fell into blackness. A golden light pressed through my eyelids. I blinked them open and saw Jedrek's face smiling above me. There was a golden sheen over everything. "Blessed awakening, Gregor. The light is a healing spell cast by the good Master Lorcan. You are out of danger but you must sleep some more." Wordlessly I fell once again into darkness. I felt the warmth of natural sunlight on my face and blinked my eyes open. Gingerly, I tried to sit up. My back felt stiff but I was able to sit up right with no pain. "Good morrow Gregor". It was Jedrek. We were in a room with a long line of beds and windows overlooking the green common of the school. I found my voice, "It is good to be awake and it is good to see you, Jedrek. I thought I would never speak or see again." "Sean has been taken from the school. His shame is great." "is that the justice for attempted murder in your great city, Jedrek? I think little enough of your civilization." I was startled by the bitterness of the words I was directing at this man who was perhaps my only friend in this place and who was bigger even than Master Lorcan. Jedrek ignored my statement, "It was awful, Gregor but you accomplished something incredible. Sean had cast some simple dampening spells so no noise you could make would be heard by the school, but even though you have not come into power, you managed to call me while I was leagues away on the other side of the country. You overcame both the distance and Sean's magic with no formal spell. That is remarkable." "You heard me when I screamed in my head?" "Loud and clear. As if I was as close to you as I am now. I quickly alerted the staff and Master Lorcan intervened. I arrived soon after." Jedrek brought up one of his huge forearms to stroke his beard, "Gregor, we're going to put you into some of the advanced magic classes. It is practically unheard of for one before elevation." "I am honored," I twisted the words out as sarcastically as I could manage, "but I do not know if I wish to continue these studies or elevate myself, Jedrek. Most of what I've seen justifies the barbarism of the culling. I do not wish to be a part of that same violence." Jedrek seemed to hear my anger for the first time, "It is fully your choice, Gregor. No one can force the elevation on you. But accept the training of your gifts. They are yours regardless of your feelings and you should understand the use of them. If I may suggest," he continued looking sternly at me, "it is unwise to close your heart Gregor. Not necessarily because of the power but because I fear the bitterness you have growing in you. Living a life alone is not something I would wish on anyone." "I'll think about it," I shot back, of course intending to do the opposite. I did compromise ultimately. I enrolled in the advanced magic courses but did not allow myself to get any closer to my fellow students. I was the only non-elevated member of the class and I could not sustain the power of the other class members and even though my efforts were comparatively small, they left me exhausted. I was gifted though, particularly in astral travel. For some reason, leaving my body behind offered little trouble. One night, well into my third year, I lay in my room and began the ritual. I was floating up above my body looking down. No one was observing, I could roam as far as I pleased. I spun up and up kicking through clouds high to where the air thins and runs out, up and up until there was nothing between me and the stars and I was staring down not at the flat map of the world I had pictured since I was young but at the spinning ball that the Brotherhood claimed the world to be. There were clusters of lights scattered across the globe. Most of it was dark though. One region sparkled with light almost too brilliant to see. I flew closer and recognized the lands of the Taiga. I skimmed near to the lights but none seemed aware I passed. In the northernmost tip the cluster of lights became too brilliant to see. I flew closer and the waves of brilliance buffeted me, tearing at my astral form. I pulled from deep within and brought my form in together against the waves of and flew into the great energy within this massive light cluster. It was aware of me and one brilliant piece of light detached itself and hovered near me. In a voice that threatened to shatter me it asked, "Why do you disturb us little one?" "I mean no harm," the creature chuckled when I said this but let me continue, "I only wished to understand what you are. None of the other dimmer lights even acknowledge me." "The lights you see are the power of the Brotherhood. If you look very closely you will see very dim glows for the other wizards and the wise women. The glows represent the power that we have in this plane of existence. We are the old ones of the Brotherhood. As we age, we grow ever stronger until we have grown too large and strong, we threaten the earth herself with our movements. We wait in this valley to detach from the physical altogether. Those of us who remain, still care of earthly things and we know of you, Gregor, who brings change to the world." Despite the claim of earth destroying power, the creature did not share the same arrogance as the Brotherhood I had met. "You are correct, Gregor. We who have seen the warp and the woof in the world, we know our place and the place of others. It is humbling and we see the great pride of the Brotherhood as a flaw in our own pattern. You are one who reshapes patterns." it paused and I could see light sparkling between the creatures, "It is decided by those of us who remain to begin your instruction in the deep magics that come with age. We begin tonight." And so the elders of the Brotherhood taught me skills no one knows until they are ready to depart this earthly coil. During the days I was cold and aloof and in the night I enjoyed the warmth of their fellowship. I worried that most of what they taught me, I had not the power to accomplish, "Gregor, that is of no moment to us, rather we see this as correct according to all the paths, you could follow, if you never ascend to power, this knowledge still matters." Even though I never spoke about my personal situation, the elders knew it well. Years passed and I remained steadfast in my vow, remembering Sean's rage and Jedrek's bloodshed. At 22, I became a teacher at the Great School. I taught the beginning magic courses. I was the only one of the faculty who had not been elevated. Occasionally Jedrek would visit the school to bring a student from outside and he would look at me with disappointment. At 25, I seemed older than my years and more closed. I did not like to spend time among my fellow teachers, their great size and power unnerved me. And I felt they looked on me with pity or as an oddity. The normal people generally seemed coarse but they reminded me more of the people from my old home. None of the men would be interested in me. Perhaps, in moments when I saw myself clearly, I could see a bitterness emerging in me, but I ignored it and continued on. I did feel happiness and warmth among the elders on the nights I left my body behind, but that was the only fellowship I allowed myself. Sometime during that year, I remember bending over my students' exams and hearing a deep voice clearing, I looked up into the deepest blue eyes I had ever seen. The man in front of me looked to be in his late thirties, he was not elevated but he had the power aura of one of the Brotherhood. He had thick black hair and the shadow of a beard on his face. I could see lines of pain around his eyes, he had suffered before coming to his life with the Brotherhood. His skin tone was similar to mine and his features reminded me of home. "Master Gregor? I have been moved into your class, my name is Michael." I found myself beaming at him as I stood up and extended my hand. He was slightly taller than me and even though I tried to keep my eyes on his handsome face, I glimpsed some of his dark hair peaking from his shirt collar above his broad chest. "Well met, Michael. Welcome to my class," I greeted him more warmly than I intended. "We are in the middle of the year of instruction, so there is much to catch up. There are books in the library and I do have office hours I'm available to help." It was my standard speech to mid year transfers and yet it felt as if I was offering him something more. His smile dimpled his face, "I look forward to learning all that I can from you." He gave my hand an extra squeeze and went to an empty desk to sit down. He towered over the majority of my class, which ranged from 11 to 14 in years. As I presented the day's lesson, I found my eyes frequently wandering over to Michael. The other students predictably treated this non-elevated grown man in their midst with derision. I often dealt with the same derision at the beginning of each school year with a new class. He ignored them utterly and frowned in concentration at the lesson. I could see him earnestly trying to catch all the information with his awkward scrawl in his notebook. I was aware of the dusting of his black hair on the back of his hand. At the end of the session, I approached him with a smile, "How did you find the class, Michael?" "This one is very different for me. Where I come from, only women can do magic. There are stories of men that do. It is like a different language for my brain." He shrugged his meaty shoulders and gave me a crooked smile, "I never thought I would be expected to do such things. I thank you, Master," and he bobbed his head down in my direction and hurried from the class with a long stride. That evening I was in my gigantic office pacing around the huge desk trying to come up with a better introduction to the Song of Openings when I heard a knock on the door. "Come in," I said in an annoyed tone. There was a deep grunt as Michael pushed my heavy office door open. I could smell flowers on him although he carried only a stack of books. "Master Gregor, I apologize for the lateness of the hour. I need help with this Song of Beginnings. Even though I know my music some of these symbols don't make sense." "Michael," I heard my voice become warm and good humored, "please come in." I explained the symbols and the stances of power. Michael was even able to summon a feeble blue glow in the room. It was late and the exertion left him looking drawn as it does for those who are not elevated. "I don't understand, Master, how it is that those who are not elevated and not of the Brotherhood can cast great magics, are we weaker than them before we elevate?" he asked as he sat down after the spell. "Power grows somewhat as we use it and it takes less from us. But for the great magics, the wizards rely on the great towers which funnel huge energies into their beings. The wise women rely on time and repetition to cast their great magics so they are not expending such huge energies all at once. The Brotherhood are the only people that can call on the great magics instantly and without special equipment. But that ability comes after elevation." I continued, "I know it is not completely orthodox, but would you care to dine with me this evening, Michael? There is a small establishment near the school that serves..." "Yes!" Michael interrupted me grinning broadly. Even though the food is better at the restaurants ran by the Brotherhood, I usually went to the non-Brotherhood establishments. The furniture was less awkward and the noise from the families kept me out of myself. As we sat down, a lusty wench flirted openly with Michael as she served us our ale. "It has been a time since I beheld a man as comely as you in this heap, sir," she said pushing her ample breasts forward. Michael blushed, barely glancing at her display, "Many thanks, goodlady. But I am taken this evening," he said beaming a smile at me. She instantly stood straight and one of her hands flew up to cover her breasts, "But you're so old...Many pardons for my insolence sirs, I will pay for your meal." Michael let out a deep laugh, "We will gladly pay for our meal goodlady and we welcome your high spirits. If I were with someone less handsome, your beauty would be turning my head." She looked confused by Michael's answer but gave a small smile, bobbed a curtsy, "Many thanks, sir" and sped away without saying another word. "They all act like scared rabbits around us. At least they don't come with knives or stones for throwing, eh Gregor?" he winked good naturedly but I could see he was pushing away something dark in his mind. Our server returned with a young man who had obviously been working in the kitchen, his apron was grease stained. He looked nervously at us both as he attempted a smile. "This is Liam," the waitress said, "if he pleases you, he can be your server tonight." "Woman!" Michael growled, "Allow this comely lad to return to the serious business of preparing meals, as you return to the business of bringing ours! Only your slowness in this displeases us, in all other ways you are quite pleasing." They sped away and she returned with fragrantly steaming plates heaped high with roasted beef, boiled potatoes and carrots. She bobbed again and Michael winked at her. I felt dumbfounded at Michael's easy manner with everyone, "That was impressive. I usually just smile and try to ignore the flirting." Michael was eating heartily, "I did not want to mislead or hurt her feelings. I have spent much of my life pretending." I started to eat. The food was salty and especially good with the cold ale to wash it down. I looked at Michael and I found myself responding to a man's handsomeness for the first time since Sean. The feeling did not scare me and I could feel myself once again smiling openly at him. "Michael, how is it a man as handsome and likable as you has not come into the power? I would think you would have to fight off potential suitors." "I could ask you the same thing Gregor." Michael smiled with genuine warmth, took a deep drink of the ale and continued, "It is a bit of a tale. Like you, I come from Mediolanum a poor place that is faithful to the tradition of the culling. I knew very young that I was drawn to men in the wrong ways and I lived in terrible fear of the culling. I was not brave enough to take my fate, I wanted to live even if I became a monster." "I ran away, just before the thaw. I had planned a long time and had hollowed a tree and secreted what supplies I might through the previous year. It was a hard time but I was good at setting traps and there was plentiful wildlife. I moved as far as I could in the wilderness for those years. I survived without touching other human lives. I was now a man and while I had grown taller and stronger, I had not turned into a monster. I did train a hunting bird which became my entrance back to village life." "I came at last to a village far from my own. The people marveled at my hunting skills and the bird of prey at my command. I quickly earned a place within the village, but I was frightened that they would see I felt no desire for women. So I befriended then married a woman. Mara was my wife's name.I found ways of pleasing her and dreamed of men as I did. She was a good woman and we had a happy life. Soon, we were blessed with a son. We named him Caleb for Mara's grandfather." Michael took another drink of his ale, his eyes were dark with memory, "Ten years we lived happily until it was time for Caleb's first culling. I wanted to move away from the village and keep Caleb from the culling. Mara turned on me then, she called me weak. We did appear at the culling with the other families and while Caleb passed the wise woman pointed at me. The villagers picked up stones and tried to kill me as I once again fled into the forest. I lived there for a time before Jedrek found me and brought me here. That is the sum of it." He finished and spread his hands out and smiled a crooked smile. I told him my story and he listened intently, his blue eyes soft with concern, "Such anger in your heart Gregor," we were walking towards my quarters at the school. We were outside but the moon was so bright I could see Michael clearly. "The Brotherhood has saved our lives, there is much that is good here." I felt an emotion rising in me and I heard myself say, "When I close my eyes I see Jedrek killing those men without a thought, I see my students' arrogance. All I see closes my heart. I cannot feel love for what I am," the words ripped my heart. Michael, did not answer he stopped walking turned and faced me. He put an arm on my shoulder. I did not resist him. He drew me close and my body was pressing into his. I could feel his warmth pushing away the cool of the night. He spoke softly into my ear, "You are a good man, Gregor. Love yourself a little." Gently he took my chin in his hand, and I could see his face framed by the night sky. All the stars were shining bright... and then he kissed me. The Culling Part 8 The kiss was warm and sweet. His lips met mine and I felt completed, my body responded. Heat and such longing swept over me. I closed my eyes and broke the contact, "We must not do this, Michael." I said, my breath ragged with strangled desire. His voice was soft, "We do not have to travel this road alone. Wherever it leads, I will be there holding your hand, Gregor." I was overcome and rushed forward in a clumsy attempt at a kiss, my tongue inexpertly pushing into his mouth, I pushed him hard against the door squeezing him into me, the closeness, the sense of him driving away the dark thoughts and bringing on such pleasure. I could feel the hardness of his manhood through the fabric of his breeches and I felt my own member stiffen even more. I heard a low moaning noise and I realized it was coming from me, from deep inside my chest. My door swung open and I felt Michael's warm, calloused hand in mine as I led him through the darkness of my rooms to my sleeping chamber. I switched on the lamps as we entered. I turned to Michael who looked serious and directly into my eyes, he gently cupped my head in his hand and pulled me closer. I opened my mouth slightly as we kissed even deeper. My hands started to roam over his body, feeling him. I tucked one hand under his shirt feeling the warm, hairiness of his chest. I was twisting awkwardly and he confidently stripped off his shirt and then removed mine. His strong hands began caressing my chest and I heard his voice low and husky, "Gregor, such beauty." He tenderly bent low and his tongue played with my nipples. A small moan escaped me and instinctually my hands travelled to his waist and started fumbling with his breeches. Roughly, I pulled them down exposing his manhood. A dark patch of hair crowned his hard cock. Michael held very still as I stroked his penis, feeling the silky skin over the hard veins. I could feel the throb of his heartbeat through my hand and the sense of connection was palpable. I looked into his beautiful eyes and then lowered myself and gently took him into my mouth. He lay his hands on my shoulders kneading them gently as his body responded to me. Michael and I took turns pleasuring each other first slow and gentle and then with increasing urgency and hardness. Soon, I found my self forcibly pushing my cock into him again and again, sweat pouring off my body. My mind was full of nothing but the moment, the pleasure. My body knew its movements, like the sun rising, I felt at one with the course of nature. I was full of everything and nothing. A tingling that had built to the breaking point released as I came inside him. Michael began to roar simultaneously shootIng ropes of ejaculate onto my floor. His body convulsed with the orgasm and I could see his skin turn red, flushed with effort. I gripped his shoulders still in the throes of my own pleasure and I could feel the muscle of his shoulders, hardening growing. Michael bent his arms forward, fists clenched flexing his torso as his fists met each other in front of his abdomen. He bellowed and my hand was forced up and open by the ridges of hard muscle pushing up around his thickening neck. An enormous sense of well being and vitality filled my body. I felt alive, alert to everything around me. I began to feel a pressure growing inside me, a swelling. There was a roaring in my ears louder than Michael's outcries. An eruption of heat from my chest ran outwards filling my whole body. The veins in my hands and arms were rigid. My arms were pushed up by the pressure away from Michael's body. They were forced out stretched away from my sides. My biceps violently contracted bending my arms at the elbows. I flexed, hard, my arms felt tight and then I felt something hard pushing up against the knuckles of my fist and my forearm. I turned my head and stared at my left arm. My vision was filled with the new, vast expanse of my arm. I could not take it all in with one glance. My eyes swept lower to take in the lowest part of my flexed arm which curved with a heavy cable of thick muscle laying a massive foundation for the burgeoning peak of muscle far above it. My eyes traveled up the dense muscle, taking in the striations and the thick veins feeding the muscle running under the skin. The big bulging roundness of the lower biceps threaded with hard sinewy muscle. Finally my eyes reached the top of the mountainous muscle which crested above my eye level. It's gigantic size was pushing up under my fist and forearm like a craggy piece of cannon shot. My arms were bigger by an order of magnitude than Jedrek's mighty limbs. I turned and my other arm perfectly matched the other in size. I bellowed and powered out of my flex and then flexed the titanic peaks again....harder feeling the skin stretch tighter as the muscles strained and pumped even bigger. A sense of power and strength filled me overwhelming everything else. I noticed movement just below my line of sight. It was my chest. I looked down at the two massive slabs of muscle heaving out from my body. I once again pushed down my pumped up arms watching my muscular chest bulge even larger as my heavy arms came down. The pecs distended and rounded out in a rippling action. It was difficult to get my big arms to touch my waist, not only because of the pump, but because my back and chest had widened so far that when my arms hung straight they were nowhere near my waist. I once again turned right, surveying the expanse of my shoulders, they curved up thick and round, massive cables crawled over the caps of muscle as I moved my arms. Something moist was poking into the bottom of my chest, slicking the muscled gutter between my protuberant pectorals. Stiffly I moved my big hand under my chest shelf to investigate. My hand bumped into a thick, banded steel like rod, running up my midsection; my cock. I lightly massaged the gnarled log like appendage, enjoying the tingling wave of pleasure from my light touch. The swollen head pushed more urgently and deeply into my chest as my member responded with tumescence. I moved my hand to my midsection and my fingers found big squares of muscle, my thick fingers actually caught in the space between the flexing muscle. I tentatively pushed the unyielding surface of my crosshatched stomach. I ran my hand lower stroking the long muscles of my thigh, feeling the deeply striated muscles as I ran my hand across my leg which now had a girth greater than an oak barrel. I pushed my foot forward and was shocked at the monstrous appearance of my immense lower leg, then I noticed appreciatively how beautifully the muscles tucked tightly into the knee and then flared out again into titanically huge calves. I flexed my legs watching the throbbing musculature move in waves across this new musclescape of my body. At the same time of this enormous physical power, I also felt all the constraints to my magic dropping away. It was as if I had been in a closed dark room and then a door opened and then the wall and then I was on a limitless plain able to see all and there were stars and all of the cosmos and universes within universes. I could feel it all spreading out around me. My consciousness seemed everywhere. I dropped back into the room as I became aware of harsh sounds. I heard myself or Michael or both of us growling, making low guttural noises like animals. I forced my attention away from my own vastitude to Michael. He stood taller than me and was slightly but obviously bigger than Jedrek even when Jedrek was fully pumped. His body was slick with sweat and the ejaculate he had earlier spewed. His musculature undulated and shined as he moved. His dark hair and pale skin, flushed from the transformation, accentuated his throbbing physique. He looked lost in wonder at his transformation and then looked at me in the with those gorgeous eyes of his and smiled with such a sweet look of affection. I found myself grinning back in wonder at the openness of his smile. Then his eyes travelled downwards to the rest of me and he dropped to his knees before me, "Gregor, the great," he said reverently and then gently began to stroke my bloated manhood. "You are magnificent." I gripped his colossal shoulders and effortlessly powered his massive bulk up so he was standing in front of me. I looked up at him feeling comforted by his familiar smile. I felt an ache in my heart and the words came from me as I looked straight into his eyes, "Michael, this is all you, you fulfill me, you humble me, you make me whole. The world as it was before you is unthinkable to me." Michael did not reply, but his eyes became shiny with emotion and he tenderly kissed me. We lay on the bed. My chambers had been built for one of the teachers at the Great School and I had always felt lost in their massiveness. Now our gigantic bodies fit the bed's dimensions perfectly. I pulled myself close to Michael, laying my head on the hardness of his chest, feeling the fine soft hair spread across it. I felt the rising and falling of his breathing and allowed contentment to fill me as Michael stroked my hair. I looked down at the riot of muscle displayed in our intertwined bodies and an unease crept through me, I whispered, "What have we done? What have we become?" Michael, clearly unruffled by my question or our transformation, began to stroke my manhood as he answered, "We are who we always have been." He paused as my cock stiffened at his touch and an evil grin played across his face, "we just have so much more to play with now." and he pulled hard on my erection and let go. My appendage struck across my midsection like a large piece of wood making a THWAAAACK sound. I felt an evil chuckle rising in me and bounced the muscles of my monstrous chest. The titanic slabs slammed down shaking the room with their force. Michael's mighty body easily absorbed the impact and his grin widened, "Ah my lover likes to play rough? I believe I can accommodate." he blew the words tenderly in my ear and then we explored our massive bodies and ravaged them anew with our passion. Once again at the peak of orgasm, I felt totally at one with the universe; in bliss. After a time, Michael moved from our bed, towards the looking glass, while I savored the amazing sight of the rippling of muscle from his movement. Michael, the magnificent. His proportions filled the wide glass, as he surveyed himself. "Gregor, come stand with me," he said. I came and stood in front of him. I looked at our reflections. I was half a head shorter and the insane broadness of my brawn overwhelmed the size of the mirror and mostly obscured Michael's magnificence. The glass was not wide enough for me to see both of my shoulders at once. He rested his head on my shoulder next to mine staring at us, "We were poor farmers' sons who thought we would be killed and now we have a strength and a power that an emperor would envy. I will not let either of us regret that, Gregor" "But with such power comes a heavy responsibility, Michael." "Gregor, I am convinced we have the strength for that. But you are my intended and there is a time for all couples when they are allowed to play. I wish to celebrate!" Michael's deep pleasing voice began to hum a song and he moved his body to the rhythm of it, first swayIng both our hips in time as he pushed into me. He then gripped my hands and crossed our arms in front of my chest and he began to sing in my ear, "I want to take you away. Let's escape into someplace where we both can play." The words were simple and he did not follow form, but he was summoning powers and with a force to be answered. The walls of my room dissolved around us in a haze of blue mist. The mist began to seep away and we were standing naked in a clearing surrounded by lush, tropical vegetation. I could feel the sudden heat and humidity. The sky was clear blue dotted by clouds. A gentle and warm wind blew over our bodies. There was a constant rumbling sound in the distance. I heard large animal sounds in the foliage around us. Some part of me thought of our nakedness as vulnerability, then the thought of what we had become occurred to me and I didn't worry that my tree branch of a cock was swinging exposed. I felt no fear. There was no wild creature capable of hurting us. I knew there was nowhere on earth that we could encounter a force capable of doing us harm. "Michael, where have you taken us naked in the middle of the day?" He planted a kiss on my head, "I did not think I could actually do this. Do not worry my sweet, if this place is as I understand, there will be no one to spy your ample charms." He strode forward towards the rumbling sound and once again, despite my current apprehensions, I enjoyed the view of my lover's backside. The earth was soft under my feet but as we moved forward it became rocky, and I felt no discomfort from the change. My feet were much tougher now than they had been. Michael broke through one last swath of jungle and, "Here we are, Gregor! Feast your eyes." Ahead the complete horizon was filled with a roaring waterfall several hundred feet high. The thing was miles wide with white water crashing over the rocks in a tremendous rush water filling a lake that was miles wide and fed several large rivers. The base of the gigantic falls were shrouded in mist from the tremendous force of the gallons of churning water. Surrounding the lake were sands and lush vegetation. "It is beautiful. How did you know of this?" I asked. "When I was a boy there was a teacher who came for a time and tried to school us rough children from the village. Only me and a few of the girls came, probably because we found him handsome rather than from a desire to learn. He had books, it was the first time I had seen such things, and in one there were paintings of this place and the teacher said that many of the Emperor Durness' men had died trying to get to this region. It is surrounded by treacherous land and fed by a wild and lethally unnavigable river. Only a few survived to write and draw pictures of this place I always wanted to see it." I lay down on the sand and felt the deep warmth penetrate my body. "Gregor, it is not time to rest, it is time to play!" Michael shouted as his mighty, tree trunk dwarfing legs launched him into the air. He sped up in a blur so high he disappeared into the clouds above. Several minutes passed as I scanned the sky for his return. Michael broke the cloud cover again slowly falling his body spread eagled, his tremendous back flexed, stretching away from his body. He seemed to be slowing his downward fall. He stayed suspended for a time and then curled his body up into a big ball of muscle and plummeted downwards. I knew he couldn't be hurt but still found myself wincing when he impacted the water. Millions of gallons of water erupted from around the boulder of muscle. The splash spewed water into the air higher than the height of the falls, briefly obscuring the sun with a cloud of droplets and raining down on the landscape around the lake drenching me with refreshing water. Michael's head bobbed up from the water and then, even though the lake was deep he somehow managed to "stand" up in the water leveraging his leviathan's body largely out of the water upright while somehow treading water underneath the surface. He looked like he was standing in a pool up to his knees. His drenched body glistened in the sunlight. He planted his fists on his waist and slowly spread his back wider. His muscles tensed and heaved as he flexed and expanded his upper body. His stomach muscles hardened into a rippling grid. His legs bulged outwards as his body looked like it hardened into living stone. I responded to his muscle challenge by diving into the cool water. The heaviness of my body dragged me to the bottom, and the vast current pushed me backwards. My body effortlessly swam against those forces. I might as well have been in a still pool. I swam along the deep rocky bottom of the lake. I noticed no sign of fish or plant life in the clear water. There was no need for me to breathe as I stayed under for several minutes. I noticed a great churning several feet above me in the water. Michael. I kicked up, effortlessly speeding through the liquid space towards his kicking legs. I blasted out of the water, maybe twenty feet in the air spraying Michael. Michael had started flexing his great arms into an intimidatingly huge double biceps pose. His mountainous biceps each rounded up bigger than his head with hard muscle. I landed near him and "stood" in the water matching his pose. Matched and exceeded it, my arms eclipsed even Michael's inhumanly large arms. I put one of my gigantic arms next to his and flexed it watching its himalayan peak dwarf his own monstrous muscle.q Michael moved towards me and kissed the top of my arm and the whispered in my ear, "Race you to the top of the falls!" he instantly submerged and in seconds I saw his pale body cleaving the blue water streaking towards the distant falls. I let my body sink into the cool underwater and then kicked against the current. My body was unstoppable and this current that a legion of rowers could not have battled was nothing. Whatever I needed to battle the water my body gave me easily. I looked up to see the amazing sight or Michael's wide, muscled back easily splitting through the falls as he sped swimming up them. I put some effort and like lightning I shot up the falling water at blinding speed passing Michael and then managed to "stand" in the savagely surging waters with my hands on my hips looking impatient as he topped the falls a second later. The crashing waters thundered around us throwing up rainbows around our impervious bodies and Michael laughed louder than the great waters. "It is good, is it not?" he bellowed against the huge noise. I nodded. Michael leapt into the air spinning and dove once again in the lake below quickly appearing on the distant shore and laying in the sun. I leapt high in the air from treading the churning water, and thumped down on my feet next to him, my immense weight shaking the ground. Michael reached out an arm and affectionately gripped my hard calf muscles. He stood again looking at the landscape surrounding us, "Gregor, watch this." Michael opened his mouth wide and inhaled. All of the mist in the area disappeared down his throat. Then closing his lips together he started to blow. The force of several hurricanes exploded from his lungs and blew out from between his lips. Using his cheek muscles to control the direction of the air, Michael blasted the falls with super-cold air. Well, not really air, more of a cloud of compressed cold that contained absolutely no heat energy. The giant clouds of heat absorbing matter engulfed the miles of waterfall. There was an eerie cracking, crackling sound, and then all was quiet. No rushing of air from Michael, no roaring of millions of gallons of water cascading down the cliffs. Everything was silent. Even the animal sounds were stilled. One part of me felt a horror at how easily Michael, literally, blew away the laws of the natural world. Another part felt excited at the potential in my own body. With the absence of any life to be harmed, I felt free to try my own, "trick". I bent down and extended my arm and gently knocked on the ice. It felt solid, frozen harder than a rock clear through. I rammed both my fists deep inside the super solid structure securing my grip. I felt my muscles expand even greater as they delivered the strength for what I wished. I could see my forearms bulge as the cables of muscles thickened and writhed as I started to pull. I began to stand up. All around us for miles there was a cracking noise and the ground started to rumble and shake, as I lifted the entirety of the frozen lake and waterfall into the air. Hundreds feet thick of super-frozen water, several miles across in every direction, encasing rocks and detritus moved cleanly out of the lake bed in one piece. The river rushed in underneath and filled the lake basin with water that crashed on the shores and down the riverbeds as it roared in. I held the frozen mass of thousands tons of water easily aloft. My body seemed to have an endless supply of strength and this did not tax it at all. The frozen mass looked like a strange, massive crystal sculpture. Michael gaped as I gingerly removed one hand and held it all with just one arm. My arm easily supported the colossal bulk. With my free arm, I drew Michael near me and nibbled on his ear, "Watch this, Michael" I whispered against the sound of the restored falls. I opened my mouth wide and drew in a massive amount of air, the vegetation around us shaking and bending towards us. I held it deep with in my massive chest, concentrating and compressing it, heating it and then I directed the superheated mass upwards at the harder than granite ice sculpture I held. Upon impact of the super hot air, the ice exploded into steam forming a cloud over the lake. Boulders and debris that had been suspended in ice moments before rained back down into the lake. Warm precipitation from the cloud fell down over the lake as I blew it higher, using normal breath now. A huge rainbow stretched over the valley. We stared at the beauty shoulder to shoulder, with our heads craned in and touching. "Let us promise to try and do no harm," I said staring at the rainbow and stroking Michael's lower back. "Michael grasped my hand in his, "I promise to never do harm, unless it is to protect from greater harm," he kissed me on the cheek. "I promise as well," I said solemnly. Michael smiled crookedly at me, "We are monsters now, Gregor."
  10. (Author's note: Important background of lust filled muscle worship (and who Grant really is) is in Parts 1 - 4 at the Bee Keeper's site under "msclvr". I wanted to help inaugurate this new site with Parts 5 and 6 of this story...plenty of "sizzle" in these two parts. Angel: A Sequel – Part V By [email protected] Introductions All Around (Things Start to Heat Up) Reluctantly, I ditched fantasizing about Grant and all the would-be muscle-heads in the gym so I could focus on driving and parking. Jeez, Grant is such a distraction for me. I’ve got a constant hard-on. And, we’re partners. Clearly, though we have not known each other a day, we’re also in love. We’re in love because he has been watching and listening to me since the day I was born and knows me to my core – especially my addiction to muscle-gods and muscle-worshipping. I still don’t get all that. It’s complicated spiritual stuff. I made a mental note to ask him to tell me more about all this when we were back home lying in each other’s arms. I parked in the gym’s lot. It was filled with big trucks, big bikes, and SUVs. God, there has be a lot of muscle in that gym tonight with all that kind of equipment out here. My fantasies got retriggered and I started to imagine some feats of strength that Grant could do that would just blow these guys away. “Yep, sounds like a plan, Paul. I think I ought to restrain myself from showing my unlimited strength. Otherwise, they’ll just get paranoid and fearful. A lot of musclemen are a very insecure bunch. If I give ‘em just a little super-strength muscle-god show, I bet they’ll be fascinated, lusty, and want more. That I’m more than willing to do,” said Grant confidently. It always startles me that he is always reading my mind. I couldn’t believe how graceful Grant was in heaving his mammoth body through the small car door. His muscle control is unbelievable. His beautiful muscular glutes were on display through his skin tight shorts. Unlike other muscle gods, he had a pair of muscle-packed glutes that were perfectly proportioned to rest of his inhuman sized body – no big bubble butt necessary— yet he has a very narrow waist. He came around to my side of the car, got up real close to me, grabbed my hand and gave it a tight squeeze. We were looking into each other’s eyes as he did that. I, of course, was looking up, way up. My anxieties, which had been building up again, were gone. We knew we could trust each other in these unchartered waters of a bodybuilding gym. We knew we had each other’s backs. At least I knew he had mine. I had no idea how I could have his massive truly barn-door back. I would soon find out. I felt so small as I stood next to him in this very public place. This was quite different from being next to him in my house. Grant opened the door for me and I walked in first trying to feel secure and confident. I instantly noticed that the place seemed to reek of sweat. And God knows what else. That was a definite turn-on. I could feel Grant right behind me as I turned to the right and stared into the face of one very big, yet short, older power-lifting type of guy. On his tight sport shirt and above his right protruding pec nipple, it said “Manager.” He started to introduce himself to me, put his hairy hand out to shake mine, and then he just stopped dead in his tracks. He was looking up, way up, at Grant. I knew he was in shock. I went ahead and said, “Hi, I’m Paul and this is Grant. We’re looking for a place to train.” While I said this, I watched his eyes darting and racing – and his head moving -- all over every inch of Grant’s height, width, mass, and good looks. “Shit, man,” as he looked up at Grant, “You are the biggest and most built guy I have ever seen and, believe me, I’ve seen a lot. You sure as hell don’t look like you need to work out, either. Where have you competed? Haven’t seen you anywhere on the internet, either,” he asked bluntly and without apology. No hand-shake or “Nice to meet you, Paul,” from him, yet. He was too stunned and “sizing-up” Grant, if that’s really possible. Needless to say, Grant was not the least bit intimidated. I knew he was gonna enjoy this visit. “What’s your name?” Grant asked politely, and with his deep bass voice. “Oh, ‘cuse my manners. I’m Gus and I own and manage this place,” he said matter-of-factly. “Well, Gus, my partner here, Paul and I, have lived out in southern Idaho at least for most of my life. I’ve had to run a pretty big family farm since my parents died years ago.” Grant continued. “So I have never had any time to travel, let alone compete. I just wanted to get as big as I could and built a gym with some big weights and equipment. Been workin’ out for a long time. Great genetics from my parents. Paul helps with the housekeeping and book-keeping. And, when he feels like it, may work out with me. We decided to sell the farm and move to a big city, and that brought us here. Actually, I’m thinkin’ I’d make a pretty damn good personal trainer for folks that want to lift or compete themselves.” Grant was so easy and casual and so sincere in telling this story. His killer smile and mysterious “presence” or natural energy, already had Gus mesmerized. All the while, his height and massive build had him tower over Gus. I noticed quite a twinkle or glow in Grant’s eyes as he spoke. He must be turning that on just for moments like this. Just after he spoke and before Gus could say a word, Grant did a very masculine and virility-laden move by bringing his huge arms around in front of him and folding them on top of his naturally protruding chest. God, he was so sexy. This showed off the fantastic width of his shoulders, his bulging delts, and his massive biceps and triceps. All of it covered in veins and striations. I, of course, couldn’t miss taking another gander at his big package jammed inside his very tight shorts. Gus had already noticed it, too. Other than his eyes, Gus hadn’t moved a muscle except for asking his questions. And, just during this brief “checkin’ you out” chat, all the movement in the gym had also ground to a halt. I looked around quickly and saw at least eight guys staring at Grant. Some had put down their weights and looked up and just stared. They were all very big and muscular guys. Some short and a couple of really tall monsters. Some were lifters and more then a few looked like they were in competitive shape. And, god, they were all wearing damn near nothing over their chests and package/glute areas. I’d never seen a gym where guys could flaunt their huge and sexy bodies like this. We couldn’t have picked a more perfect time and place. “Well, Grant, you and your partner here would be welcome as members. And, I’m always in the need for built personal trainers who can inspire the other members – especially those that want to compete. You could do that in spades, for sure. We can talk about that later but let me show the two of you around the gym, first.” Gus was getting friendlier very quickly. It was a tour Gus had probably given hundreds of times. But the difference this time was that Gus was “parading” muscle-god Grant around, making sure he got up close to all the equipment and close to the guys that were trying to work out. They were very distracted by the enormity of Grant’s presence, his very tight jersey and shorts, and his very friendly smile. Gus said any number of times that Grant might become a personal trainer at the gym. It was awesome to watch the mix of reactions to that possibility. Some guys had a big smile on their face. Others, pulled away while trying keeping an eye on Grant. Some introduced themselves, often holding the handshake way too long, and having a hard time not taking too much time to check him out. Grant was just as friendly as he could be. He made it a point to compliment a couple of guys on parts of their physiques. Their faces lit up like Christmas trees with compliments from this very tall and extremely well-built, sexy, and very handsome hyper-masculine male. A couple of guys were bold enough to ask Grant about some of his measurements. Of course, he had never been measured. He and I both knew that. Not missing a beat, he just told them that he’d like some help from them later in getting his measurements up-to-date. They were so transparent with how “weak in the knees” they got over that possibility…and these were already pretty damn big and built guys, themselves. As the three of us made the rounds of the equipment, the guys looked like they were getting back to their reps but, in fact, they were just pretending, as best I could see. They could not take their eyes off of Grant. Gus was realizing he had just been given a marketing bonanza for his gym and was getting very enthusiastic about telling us how dedicated the members were. He explained how members had won many competitions over the years. Pictures were all over the otherwise dreary walls. The bathroom and showers were not very big. They were clean, however. One really big and cut guy dropped his little towel – in shock -- the moment he saw Grant come in. He was so dumb-struck, that he didn’t care that his pretty good-sized semi-hard cock and balls were there for all to see. Grant apologized for the interruption with a big knowing smile on his face. The guy damn near fell all over himself to introduce himself, naked, to Grant, and shake his hand. Like the others, Grant has this amazing way of connecting at the soul level with people, especially guys. And they respond in kind. It is amazing to be part of that dance of lust and excitement. Outside the showers, Gus motioned Grant aside. The two of them talked about something and Gus got all excited. Grant looked at me and gave me a wink. Gus went the front desk and clicked on the overhead speaker. “Hey guys, I have a special treat for you. Grant has agreed to stay here for a while and do some poses for us, and some feats of strength. Unless someone has an objection, I’m going to bring the shades down, put a closed sign on the doors and lock them.” “I’ve got some hootch in my office and we can have ourselves a little private muscleman party here with Grant and his partner. Any objections?” he asked confidently. None. In fact, a big round of applause rang through the building. These guys were way more into power, strength, and muscle than I could have ever imagined. While Gus did all the arrangements, Grant came over and asked if I was okay with what they were planning to do. I told him I was thrilled to be with him doing whatever, especially with a bunch of other big muscle-head studs. We both grinned at each other. I could tell we also mutually and silently agreed this was not yet the place to kiss each other. A few of the guys starting coming up to Grant right away to ask him questions about training. They were, to a man, a little startled that he had never competed. One even said he looked like a morph from the internet. Yet, his story seemed to reassure them, as if they needed any more reassurance given his massive, bulging, and vascular presence. They just couldn’t stop looking at him, his muscles and his eyes. He had them completely in his “grip”. The Party Really Gets Started One of the biggest and most impressive guys asked Grant to give them a double-bi. With his trademark sexy grin, he stepped back, took in a deep breath, which pushed his astonishing pecs out even more, and slammed both his arms up into exploding mountains of muscle, tendons, veins, and twitching muscle fibers. We all watched his very tight jersey strain in a futile attempt to keep his muscles contained. Once again, the gym came to a dead stop. Not since we arrived had any of them taken their eyes of off their new idol and hero. “Whad’ya think guys? Big enough for you or should I make them bigger,” Grant asked in his sexy bass voice. “Shit man, give it all to us. Show us what you got. Pump those monsters,” hollered one big muscled enthusiast. It was nothing for Grant to not only add to the pump and size of each monstrous arm, but he also started the trade mark muscle-dancing technique of flexing and rotating his hands and fingers. God, his forearms and arms were covered in networks of veins, thick and small. His body fat was so low that his muscle fibers shown through the slightly shaded skin. His ballooning traps and delts were equally enormous. His very dramatic V-shape was breath-taking. Then Grant said, in his deep booming voice, something I’d never thought I’d hear from him. “I make big strong muscle men like you cum in their briefs when they get to feel up these muscles of mine,” he said proudly. “Who’s gonna be the first victim? Or, better yet, the first winner to touch me?” Grant challenged them. He knew that, as a group, they were really into muscles, in more ways than one. Holy shit. God only knows where this is going. The same “enthusiast” stepped forward, with a mixture of apparent profound lust and excitement. Grant looked down at him, pumped his arms even more, creating double peaks on his biceps, with a thick vein running down the length of each arm. “Go ahead, guy, feel the hardness and cock-exploding size of these babies. Yeah, you will never get even your big hands around my whole arm. Yeah, all you can do is just try to squeeze them.” “They don’t budge, ever. Of course, they’re warm. Yeah, man, trace those veins…they feed these monster muscles 24/7. Do the other side. Looks like you’ve got some experience appreciating muscle-gods like me. That iron bar in your shorts is a dead give away. I take that as quite a compliment,” Grant proudly announced. I was seeing a part of Grant I had only got a glimpse of back at my place. I remember him telling me that he knows who he is and what he can do by having watched all of my muscle-worshipping fantasies over the years. God, its like being a muscle-god with these guys is second-nature to him. He knows what other musclemen, bodybuilders, and power-lifters really want. “Holy mother of god, man, you are unbelievable. Oh, shit, here it comes. How…do you do that…to me? Ohhhh….god…fuck…..yeah….yeah….fuck it almost hurts….and to feel your hard and massive arm at the same time….oh yeah….one more…..one more….that was great. I’ve never met any man with arms like that and god knows I’ve been building my own arms for years. Fuck. You are something else. It’s almost like you’re not human…” He had no idea how accurate he was. He stepped back and pulled his tight shorts out and down and stuck his hand down into his package and rearranged what must have been one cum-soaked bulge. Grant was soaking it in as the guy was soaking in the warmth of his own cum. And I was watching Grant’s package start to grow and change shape. I’d have given anything to be alone with him at that moment and worship his beautiful big basket. I wonder if any of the other guys saw him change shape like that. “Heck, guys, we’re just getting started,” Grant said enthusiastically. Gus had come over and, to my surprise, joined in mauling Grant’s arms with his own big hairy arms and hands. Grant shook out his arms and we watched all the muscles shift, swing, and jiggle back and forth. Then he slammed into another double-bi pose. “Grant, man, I don’t know how you did it, but you’ve done it big time. We’ve never seen arms like this around here, never,” Gus said appreciatively. “Hell, we’ve never seen a man built like you, either. Not even close.” A couple of guys had started taking pictures with their cell-phones and were as giddy as little girls -- comparing the pictures on their cell phones to the real thing six feet away. I also noticed almost all of them taking time to re-arrange their own packages – no apologies – no embarrassment. Just turned-on testosterone-driven half-naked musclemen getting off on one of their own. This private party had lots of possibilities. My cock had been hard since we entered the place and I was beginning to ache from it. Damn, Grant was in his element and he clearly loved being worshipped as an extraordinarily hyper-masculine muscle-god by other muscle men. And, I was so proud to be his partner. “Okay, guys, let’s give Grant some room to pose here in the middle of the floor. Step back and give him some space. Drinks are over on the cabinet. Help yourself,” barked Gus. After getting some drinks, they all gathered standing around in a semi-circle. I thought of kindergarten kids and how they gather around their teacher. Some of these guys were really built and sexy as hell. I chatted them up a bit and, being a courteous fellow, I asked them if I could feel their biceps. Boy, what a treat. Grant had really inspired these guys. While they couldn’t hold a candle to him in the size and vascularity department, they had some really massive guns and appreciated an enthusiastic admirer like me. They tried to get in front of each other in their own enthusiasm to show me what they had. I guess being Grant’s partner gave me special privileges. Fuck, my hands were all over these guys. I had no idea I had so much muscle-talk in me. They each got a shit load of compliments and appreciative groans from me. And I got handfuls of hard muscle. Some of their forearms were to die for. For those, I tried to wrap both of my hands around the forearms, but I usually came up short. I liked pumping the forearms with both hands like I was pumping a cock – two-handed. They seemed to really like that. One really muscular, hairy, and massive short guy grabbed at my own hard cock, looked me straight in the eye, and said I could have him anytime. I almost lost it. Damn, I was in seventh heaven. And The Show Continues Grant’s amazing and highly unusual height (I’d guessed earlier in the day he was around 6’8”), combined with his inhuman (if they only knew the real story) mountains of muscle all over his damn near fat free skin, made him stand out like a very big marbled Greek God statue right in the middle of the gym. His skin tight jersey and extremely short shorts showed off his stunning v-taper, a rarity for a muscle god of his size. His traps, even when relaxed, were beyond comparison to any mortal muscle-god. When we weren’t looking and lusting after his incredibly sexy bulging package, we were speechless at the unheard-of size of his quads, sets of huge tear-drops, and all the other muscles and crevices that compose legs defying description. His calves were equally explosive and he wasn’t even flexing any of this. I started to imagine what he could do in a tug-of-war with a tank. Yet, again, because of his exceptional height, he might look like a morph of the internet, but he was totally and completely proportionate – head to toe. I know that added immeasurably to his sex appeal to me, and certainly to these men who really know how appreciate a spectacular man like this. He stood at the front of the semi-circle. The lighting at that part of the gym was actually pretty good and helped show off all of his deeply chiseled features to very good advantage. His fat-free and slightly tanned skin made him look oiled and ready to take any contest he wanted to enter. Since he knows me so well, he knows I go bat shit when muscle-gods go into a Superman pose, jutting out their arms and putting their hands on their waist. He read my mind, of course. God, I can’t tell the difference between love and lust any more. Certainly not with him. And he still had his jersey and shorts on! Wait till they see him in his bulging black jock-strap – just barely holding all of him in and the straps stretched to their limit. Much to my surprise, the guys gave him a spontaneous round of enthusiastic applause – just for standing there like that in the Superman pose. The applause was even peppered with a few whistles of admiration. He just grinned and told us in his booming voice that he was glad to be appreciated so much. What a hell of a fucking understatement that was. These guys were lusting, drooling, and restless to see all of him. They were not going to be disappointed. Cell phone cameras were clicking away big time. “Hey men, I’d like a volunteer to come pull down my tight jersey sleeve off my delts and onto my biceps and triceps. I think you might want to see me pump up again and burst out of these tight sleeves. I’m feeling like I want to be unconstrained,” he said teasingly. Another round of applause and cat-calls. One of the very tall and built guys came up to the center right up close to Grant. They smiled at each other. They guy moved in, intentionally, close enough to push his own damn big protruding basket up into Grant’s even bigger basket. “Yeah, man, let’s feel that big bulging muscle package of yours’,” said Grant in a voice dripping with sex. “Shove it into me…right up into mine….let me feel that thick big hard-on you’re carrying,” he added. Very quietly the muscleman said “Fuck, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I want you so bad. I’ve never wanted a man more than I want you, Grant. I want to be like you. I want to be in you,” he said passionately. “You play your cards right and get along with my partner, Paul, we might get a three-some or something going,” Grant said equally quietly. With that, the tall man reached up and around Grant’s unflexed right arm and struggled and pulled the jersey sleeve down onto his bicep and tricep. While he did that, he took advantage and copped a long feel of Grant’s amazing warm mass of veined muscles. Not taking his eyes of Grant’s seducing eyes, he moved over and did the same with the left sleeve…massaging up and around the tricep and bicep before he pulled the jersey down. “Oh god, thank you,” the man said. “The pleasure is mine, too, man. I like to know when I can make a difference in men’s lives. Ask Paul. He’ll tell you all about what it’s like to be with me,” Grant said very nonchalantly. As a parting jesture, Grant jammed his basket down onto the tall guy’s basket. Talk about alpha male domination. Grant was really getting’ into this. The guy stepped back into the semi-circle visibly shaken --- yet with a smile on his face. His left hand went into his shorts and he rearranged his basket, with his hard-cock now jutting up toward his left hip. I would have given anything to go over to him and give my trade-mark basket massage and chew on his bulge in his tight shorts. “I’m gonna explode one sleeve at a time so you guys will have a couple of chances to see the real thing – not some fantasy. I’d suggest you come in closer. For those of you with videos in your camera, you can get as close as you want,” instructed Grant. My god, the instant jostling for positions around his arms was amazing. These guys were unabashedly thrilled to be around Grant and be so close to having a one-of-a-kind muscle-god shred sleeves with a flex. Sleeves Destroyed Keeping his left arm in the Superman position, Grant raised his right and smiled, and took in a couple of breaths. I actually think he does that just for effect. He started a pump that quickly equaled what he had done moments ago. “Go man, go.” “Bust that mother-fucking sleeve.” “Yeah, pump it…pump it harder.” “Do it, man, do it.” To a man, they seemed breathless with anticipation. Grant pumped harder and the crevices and veins became even more pronounced. With the appearance of the second peak on his bicep muscle, the jersey had reached its limit. With a couple of more grunts, the jersey sleeve split wide open at the peak. “Holy shit, holy shit.” “Damn, look at that.” “Fuck, man, that is amazing,” They were astounded at seeing this first-hand. Grant kept pumping and the sleeve actually began to shred even more. God, it was so damned sexy. “Got those pictures you wanted?” asked Grant with well-justified pride. Some guys were just hootin’ and hollerin’. And some were just dumb-founded…with their mouths and eyes wide open, and their hands giving their packages some hard massages. “Here, get this shot,” Grant instructed again. He easily leaned over, gave his bicep a long kiss, and then started licking it. The cameras were going nuts. Then he did something I’ve only read about. He moved his forearm and hand onto his bicep and started massaging the entire top of the bicep muscle with his big thick hairy fingers. His forearm muscles, cords and veins were jumping all over the place. Holy fuck, I’d never thought that would be really possible. But there he is. The guys were going almost delirious over all this muscle. When they weren’t clapping and whistling, they continued rubbing their hard cocks, some digging deep into their shorts and jock-straps. What a scene. Grant, surrounded by all these geeked muscleheads, turning a posing routine into a muscle-sex show. Jeez, he had really been reading my fantasies over the years, not missing a thing. Gus was part of this, clearly relishing Grant’s inspirational god-like presence in the gym. With Grant still holding the incredible flex, one guy went behind him, grabbed pieces of the jersey in both hands, and held them up and off the massive arm so guys could take more pictures. I never knew a bicep could have so many veins and crevices. I knew I was going to make sure we got some of these pictures for ourselves. “Ready for round two?” Grant said slyly. “Bring it on.” “Pump that fucker.” “Yeah, do it again.” They were really fired up. Grant dropped the right arm, placing his hand on his hip as part of the Superman pose. “Who wants to put their hands around my arm and feel the sleeve as I shred it into little strips?” he asked seductively. Shit, I’ve never seen so many big guys move so fast. One of the taller guys won out and positioned himself behind Grant. Grant lifted his arm. The guy tugged at that sleeve edge to make sure it was still over the huge unflexed bicep. Both men knew they were posing for pictures. Grant, looking lovingly at his monster left arm, took in a few breaths. The guy made sure his hands were wrapped around the bicep as much as possible, which really wasn’t very possible at all. With more shouts of encouragement, Grant started very methodical pumps and the whole arm began to expand. This time it is was slow. God, it was like an act of sex, like doing a slow fuck. Grant was one hell of a showman. The muscle-heads jostled around each other for a closer look. The guy with his hands around Grant’s bicep had a big grin on his face. And, boom. The edge of the sleeve started splitting. There was too much noise to hear it rip. Grant kept splitting the sleeve up toward the rest of the bicep. The guy looked in awe as his hands felt the shredding actually happen under his hands. Cell phones were still snapping away. Grant, looking at the guy holding his bicep and the torn sleeve, asked him, “I bet you’re really glad you’re here today, aren’t you?” “Fuck, I never thought I’d feel something like this. You are one awesome dude, awesome,” he added very appreciatively. There was another round of applause and whistles. Grant dropped his arm and extended both arms and shook them out. The shredded sleeves, up to his striated delts, and hanging loose over his biceps, were grist for more picture-taking by these new-found muscle-god worshippers and Grant’s new personal fan-club. I was transfixed. It is such turn on to watch all these musclemen get absolutely head-over-heels with Grant. Grant just has a way, with his eyes and his other-than-human-energy glow, of deeply touching the longings and desires of these guys. I had not expected such a reaction from them – or any group of men for that matter. We were in taboo territory for a lot of body-builders and power-lifters, or so I had thought. Yet these guys, damn near to a man, including old Gus, were breaking those taboos left and right, without apologies or any self-consciousness. They loved what Grant is, what he stood for, and what he is able to do with his muscles. They loved his good looks. They loved that he paid attention to them and teased them, even though they were all big guys in their own right. Sure, the drinks had loosened them up. Yet, they were more than willing to “cross the line” and worship Grant for his hyper-masculine sexuality. Hell, they saw it in themselves, and what they wanted from other muscleheads. You would have thought they’d all been given lust-inducing drugs, judging by their kid-like excitement and man-like muscle lust. I had to remind myself that this was really for real…that I was not inventing Grant and these guys in my head…or writing a fiction story about our encounters for the gay readership on the internet. Grant was real and we had very quickly developed a very special relationship that even my dreams had not anticipated. I was feeling very grateful, in addition to being consumed with lust like the rest of them. Next Round All of a sudden some hollering started and before I knew it they were all screaming to Grant to “take it off,” “take it off,” “take it off.” Grant stood there in his Superman pose, just looking around at each of them, in the eye, and letting the roar build. These guys weren’t holding anything back. They wanted him to take the rest of his tight jersey off. And, I’m sure they wanted him to take off his shorts and jock-strap off, too. They wanted to see him pose in all his muscular naked glory. I’m sure they wanted to see his big hard cock, too. Grant just smiled his big toothy grin. He knew what they wanted. I could tell. I knew he was ready to give it all to them…all of it…no holds barred. After all, the doors were locked and the shades were down. And, as a group, they had all bonded around having Grant among them. Nobody was going to interrupt this lust-filled feasting on muscle and all of them were ready for whatever happened. I’ve never seen more men rub their cocks and crotches at the same time. Each of them was in their own private world of muscle, intensely focusing on Grant, their personal muscle-god, in the flesh, and what he could offer them. “Well, since you ask, I think I’m ready to get rid of this mangled jersey. Maybe when we get together next time, I’ll do a full lat and back spread and split the back of the shirt. Or, with a side chest pose, split the shirt down my pec cleavage. I bet you’d all get off on that. Somebody could take the ripped sweat-filled cloth home as a souvenir and jack-off with it. I like to know my skimpy clothes are used as cum-rags,” he said calmly. They were hanging on his every word. “Today, let’s get down to business quicker. I need another volunteer to help pull this jersey up and off me. Who wants to be the lucky volunteer?” Again, there was a mad scramble to get in front of him and be picked for the honor. They were like kids, but very big kids. “What’s your name?” and Grant pointed to a fairly young man, medium height, with a very well muscled physique. He was drop dead gorgeous, too. “Stan, sir,” he said shyly. “OK Stan, you’re my man,” announced Grant. The rest of the guys stepped back into the semi-circle but the circle had gotten much closer to Grant than it was when we started. Stan was nervous as he stepped in front of the god-like behemoth. Grant dwarfed him in every way. “Where do you want to start, Stan? I’m in your hands, so to speak,” Grant inquired, with a good laugh. Without saying a word, Stan stepped closer and gently put his hands on either side of Grant’s very narrow waist. He held them there, just feeling the power and heat coming off of Grant. Then he slowly moved them up and grabbed either side of the jersey. It was tight even at its bottom – giving quite a preview of Grant’s ab muscles, extremely defined obliques, and everything else. Some of the guys had stepped around to the side to take more pictures. “Whaddya’ think Stan. Like what you see? Like what you feel? Can you smell my man scent yet? Ever been so close to someone like me before?” Grant fired these questions off fast. Stan didn’t know what to say. “I guess the answer is “yes”, right Stan?” Grant was drilling down – in a friendly way -- on pronouncing Stan’s name slowly and frequently…knowing that that would get Stan even more excited. Stan began lifting the shirt up. Grant’s abs, which had just barely been hidden before, began to show. Even though I’d seen Grant nude earlier in my home, his abs were just incredible. Eight thick horizontal plates, surrounded by deep crevices. Muscle fibers and striations were everywhere. A few bulging veins started out in the middle plates and went down into his crotch. His light dusting of dark hair added to an indefinable aura of intense male sexuality and power. It was actually pretty easy for Stan to get the jersey this far. Grant’s enormous jutting pecs were another story. “Here, let me help you, Stan.” With that, Grant lifted his huge arms and placed them on Stan’s shoulders. That gave Stan some much needed leverage to wrestle the jersey up and over Grant’s thrusting pec shelf. Stan seemed to start shaking. He was surrounded by huge muscles. There was dead silence in the gym. All the guys were intensely focused on this evolving muscle revealing display. Stan took a small step back and began pulling the jersey over Grant’s pecs. He struggled. It was a very tight fit. He pulled, one side, than the other. Grant’s head started to get covered by what was left of the jersey as more of his abs and lower chest were revealed in all their massive and cut glory. With one more step back, Stan had the leverage to put all of his own not insubstantial strength into a final pull that literally popped the jersey off of Grant’s delts and arms. He stood there, almost like he was in shock, holding the flimsy jersey in his hands and just looking at up at Grant’s now exposed upper body. There was another round of applause. Grant shook himself out again…causing all of his upper body muscles to shift back and forth in waves of muscled and veined slabs of warm flesh. Stan, still in awe, stepped back into the circle, clutching his reward. “Hey, Stan, thanks for the help. I hope you enjoy yourself tonight,” Grant announced. He added a wink just for good measure. It was cool to watch the guys pat this young stud on his broad back as if he had run a marathon or set a new weight-lifting record. Now, down to just his bulging shorts and jock-strap, Grant began a series of poses that triggered yet another round of applause. This time it was non-stop applause. They couldn’t get enough of Grant’s massive and cut musculature. Grant’s light chest hair just added to his lust-inspiring masculinity. Veins and muscle fibers were evident everywhere. First, it was another double-bi that, once again, flabbergasted these already big turned-on musclemen. Then he artfully moved into a side chest pose that not only accented his amazing shoulders and arms, but showed us what a really huge pec shelf he had…especially flexed. His nipples were absolutely beautiful. The size of silver dollars. Pointed down because of his pec mass. Little tiny nubs surrounding each areola and nipples the size of large thimbles. All of this was encircled by a light covering of chest hair. His leg poses, along with the side-chest pose, just blew minds. The huge strips of muscle, split by crevasses, created a leg width and thickness unheard of among even the most built super-heavyweight bodybuilders, beyond even the most massive powerlifters. He pumped his side chest of couple of times just to make sure we weren’t missing anything. I was sure somebody was gonna yank out their cock and pump themselves right there. The applause wasn’t stopping and neither was Grant. He faced the circle and gave us a truly shocking combination of hands behind his head, upper body and abdominals flex, with an extension flex of his huge right leg. Veins, large and small, criss-crossed, the mountains of hard muscle. Shocking in the sense that he exuded extraordinary power and muscle definition. He looked like he was going to crush his head with his biceps. His etched obliques and abs shifted back and forth as he moved his body from side to side – at the same time shifting his leg position so that the massive muscles, tendons, and veins were just exploding underneath his fat-free skin. His huge basket – in the center of all this mass of muscle -- commanded our eyes to make it center of attention. God knows it had my attention. Fuck, I was going to have to blow a load here pretty damn quickly. The next pose was something else entirely. He went down into a most muscular crab stance and then pumped his muscles repeatedly until it looked like he was going to explode out of his skin. His already massive traps now came into even more prominence. Beautiful mounds of strips of muscle and striations sweeping down from the top of his thick corded neck down to his striated upper deltoids. The guys were whistling and hollering with complete abandon. He, all of him, was theirs. And they were his. We were at a new level of passion for muscles and the physique of a true god. He held this most muscular crab pose, pumped it some more, and pivoted all around the semi-circle so each guy could get a complete eye-full of candy and take pictures that they’ll jack-off to for years. For them, for me, he was the ultimate fulfillment, ultimate embodiment, of muscle, sex appeal, and masculine power. And we hadn’t even yet seen some amazing feats of strength by this gift of masculine manhood –this god of men. Getting Down to Business The powerful momentum from this start of his posing routine was only exceeded by the sexual energy surrounding us. Grant knew that, and announced that he would take another volunteer to help him take his shorts off. Another scramble. This time he picked an older guy, a little on the short side but covered in thick masses of muscle and body hair. He was clearly one very powerful lifter who, you would think, would never be intimidated by any man. However, Grant was proving to be the exception. Once again, guys stepped back into a circle, even smaller than the last time. They wanted to be up close, real close. This fire-plug of a muscleman stood in front of Grant and, much to everyone’s surprise, began exploring Grant’s pecs slowly, very slowly. Without saying a word, Grant flexed them – bouncing them up and down, rolling them from the top of the pec to the bottom of the pec and back again, and then left and right. It truly was one hell of a sex act. The guy punched them a few times. No give. “So, I bet you are one hell of a strong guy. You certainly have the mass. What’s your name?” asked Grant, like he was always interviewing worshippers. “I’m Tom,” he said. “You are one of a very few men who have ever got me turned on like this. I’ve been around. I’ve been mostly worshipped -- not the worshipper. You, however, trigger something deep in me. And, boy, am I ever glad I’m here,” Tom said with a sense of gratitude. A lot of guys were nodding in agreement. “Yep, you like a lot of other guys here, are having trouble keeping your hard cocks in your pants. Right?” Grant observed. “Fuck, yes,” retorted Tom. “You damn well know the amazing power you have,” he added with an edge. “OK,” said Grant, “Let’s take a look at the center of that power and you can help me uncover it. You game? After all we men, especially those of us who work to build ourselves up big and strong, need to let others know what this center really means to us,” explained Grant. With that, Tom, surprised us all by getting down on his knees so his face was just below Grant’s package. Grant is just that tall. The room went silent waiting to see what Tom would do next. His big arms and hairy hands moved up to the straining button that was holding the tight shorts on Grant’s narrow waist. He unbuttoned the button and the shorts pulled off to either side exposing either side of the partially zipped zipper. “Holy fuckin’ mother of god,” Tom muttered loud enough for all of us to hear. In a very slow and intentional way, he brought the zipper down. As he did this, the shorts pulled even further apart exposing Grant’s pristine black jock strap that we had bought in the sporting goods store a few hours earlier. Grant’s massive bulge was now thrusting way out away from his shorts, surrounded by the unzipped sides that opened into muscle-sex heaven. The blackness of his huge pouch and straps added even more an aura to him – he truly was visually addicting. And these guys and I were truly addicted. “Alright, Tom, now that you got the preliminaries over with, why don’t you reach around and try to pulling these shorts down off these legs – these columns of marble?” Grant said suggestively. Instead, Tom, probably due to his own experiences of being worshipped, wrapped his hairy arms around Grant’s waist and pulled his face up into the bulging black jock-strap. Cheers and whistles erupted again. It was pretty clear that Tom had a major basket fetish, too. Using his arms around Grant’s waist, he did his best to muscle Grant into his face, and push himself into Grant’s package…a package that thrust way out into the room, straining the pouch and the straps. We could see his head moving all over Grant’s basket. We all knew he was chewing on and licking Grant with a passion. Tom’s huge flexing back muscles were a sign of how much muscle and pressure he was exerting to feel this mother-load of Grant’s sex. This went on for a minute or two while all of us watched in lustful envy. Then Tom leaned back and began pulling down the high cut bottom of each leg’s covering. Even with his very thick arm muscles, it was a struggle for Tom to get each moving down Grant’s unflexed quads. The massiveness of Grant’s quads were, like the rest of him, unequalled. Meanwhile, Grant was maintaining his Superman pose, along with a very satisfied smile on his handsome face. Slowly the jock straps covering Grant’s tight glutes appeared. Finally, Tom was able to pull down enough fabric so that Grant’s whole jock-strap package was exposed. Grant sported a sexy black patch of hair, very seductively peeking up and over the top of the jock cup. Grant stepped out of both legs as Tom pulled the shorts away. “And you can take those home with you, too, Tom,” said Grant graciously. “Hell, never, never, have I been this close to so much muscle and so much bulge in a package. Being this close to you, standing there in your black jock-strap, is a muscle worshipper’s dream come true. You are one hell of a spectacular man, my friend,” said Tom, once again, appreciatively. “Glad you like it, Tom. You certainly know how to make me feel good. Loved your face grinding into my package, especially when you tried to force me into your face,” exclaimed Grant. “You are a very strong man and I bet you are really good at helping guys live out their muscle-worshipping fantasies,” he added. “Nothing like you, Grant, nothing like you. You are the man,” added Tom somewhat breathlessly. Almost Exposed After Tom stepped back into the semi circle that now resembled a close huddle, Grant gave us the gift of a few more mind-boggling poses. He spun around and pumped himself into back double-bi. He was so cut, wide, and so massive – all from a totally new angle. A few guys were close enough and took the big step of feeling up Grant’s mountains of back arm muscles -- layers upon layers of cut muscle. He grunted his welcome of the feel of their hands. He shifted into a back flex that was an amazing display of the proverbial Christmas tree and what looked like that famous bag of squirming eels that muscle-worshippers have been writing about for years. More hands began exploring the muscles and cuts in his stunning back. Then he moved into a back lat spread that showed his inhuman size. The enormous width of his back was, once again, a testimony to the unlimited muscular power he possesses. The guys couldn’t get enough of his back and kept urging him on to push it even bigger. He easily obliged them. Their hands went everywhere – down the spinal column, around to the sides, down to his amazingly small waist, and up around his huge traps. “Man, you guys sure know how to make me really feel welcomed,” reported Grant. “I think you’ll like how I’ll train you. But now we’ve got one more piece of unfinished business. My cock has been so damn fuckin’ hard for the past couple of hours. It hasn’t had anywhere to go but get squashed up into my balls in my jock-strap. I know you know how uncomfortable that feels. Hell, given what I see on most of you, you guys are probably feeling the same thing. Am I right?” he challenged them. A chorus of affirming expletives confirmed Grant’s observation. “Well, I’ll start us off. Again, I need a volunteer to get me out of this thing. Then I want you guys to lose all those sweaty shirts and shorts and let me get a gander of your muscles and your packages in your jock straps or briefs…whatever you’ve got on. Show me some poses. Then we’ll take it from there. OK?” Again, he was challenging them. Nobody objected. Yet nobody stepped forward. “Guys, we’re all musclemen here. And we know what we like. I know you’ll really like what I’ve got hidden right now. You’ll especially like it when I get rock hard and my 14” steel pipe bounces around while I pose some more. Just for you today. OK, who’s gonna help me unleash my monster?” he demanded. He wasn’t kidding. Much to my excitement, the biggest and tallest guy stepped forward, standing face to face to Grant. He was one hell of massive bodybuilder in his own right. He also sported a good size package in his own tight shorts. He was wearing a wife-beater t-shirt that showed off some very big muscles and cuts. And, he was still a good six inches shorter than Grant. “I’m Pete and most guys around here know that I like to be worshipped and have quite a following of muscle-worshippers – mostly men. I make no apologies for that. But you’re being here has flipped the tables on me. I like it. Make no bones about that, either. I’ll do the honors and strip you of your jock-strap. Fuck, I like posing in the nude with a hard-on for guys, myself. I especially get turned on when they give me a blow job while I’m posing…if you get my drift,” said Pete in a manner of fact way. “Cool, Pete. I always like to be with men who appreciate what I do. You certainly have the build and the good looks to have a hell of a following. You know what to do now,” instructed Grant. It was quite a turn-on for all of us to see this big good-looking guy get down on his knees just like Tom did. Holy shit, what a sight. Grant, the muscle-god to beat all muscle-gods, being worshipped by another muscle-god. Once again the room was quiet, waiting to see how Pete would strip Grant of his jock-strap. He didn’t waste any time or any opportunity. Just like Tom before him, he wrapped his big muscular arms around Grant’s waist and pulled his jock strap pouch into his face and, at the same time, pushed hard into Grant’s package. After a few moments indulging his own basket fetish, it was clear he was on a mission. He wanted to turn Grant on so much that his big cock would just push out one of the sides of the straining pouch. The question in my mind was whether Grant would let him do that or not. The answer came pretty fast. Grant started groaning and moaning in ways none of us had heard so far that afternoon. He started gyrating his hips and pushing himself into Pete’s face hard, really hard. I thought Pete might get a bloody nose from the near violence of their meeting face to hard pouch. Grant started a round of muscle-sex talk with expletives that we’d heard from the other guys but certainly not from Grant – at least up to now. Pete knew what he was doing by chewing hard on Grant’s thickening cock. The pouch began to extend way to one side from the pressure of Grant’s hardness. Pete just chewed all along the cock’s length with even more passion. Grant was letting Pete have his way. What a role reversal! Then, right before our eyes, the enormous ridged red crown of Grant’s cut 14 inch monster shoved its way out between his crotch and the pouch. I’d seen Grant’s cock earlier in the day and knew we were in for quite a sight. Pete pulled back. We all moved in closer and saw a monster cock that defies description. It was dark and covered in veins. The ridge down the top was surrounded by hard lengths of thick muscle. Guys were gasping at how both very thick and very long this piece of extraordinary manhood was. Grant had not been exaggerating. His tennis-sized balls were still in the pouch. To finish his stripping of Grant, Pete reached around and grabbed the straps around Grant’s glutes and pulled down hard. Not hard enough. The pouch was still jammed up at the top of Grant’s cock. He brought his hands around and, grabbing both sides of the waist band, pulled down hard again. Grant’s cock sprung up high. He bounced his monster as if to make a point. He sure as hell didn’t need to. His balls, not surprisingly, were huge. The small dark tuft of pubic hair was sexy as hell. The guys were, once again, stunned. They’d never seen a man, let alone a muscle-god with this kind of equipment. Pete pulled the strap down and Grant stepped out of it. Pete stood up and backed into the huddle. “Hell, man, god, does that feel good. I guess I just needed some air after all this action this afternoon. Thanks, Pete. You’re good. Very good. I’ll send some of my future worshipping customers your way,” said Grant approvingly. “Alright, feast your eyes on naked muscle power. Everything I have is out here for your viewing pleasure. Snap away. By the way, Pete, you can keep the strap if you want,” Grant added. The cameras were clicking and flashing on overload. These guys were going nuts. Grant gave us another explosive side chest pose. From our side view, his thick muscular cock stood out like a flagpole. He changed sides and gave us another view of his pose, with his cock bobbing up and down. He did that on purpose. It was very, very sexy. Then he gave us another one of his most musculars. Not only were we trying to grasp the enormity of his cut muscles and symmetry, but we also were trying to absorb the addition of the biggest cock any of us had ever seen or will probably ever see. I couldn’t wait to get Grant home and go at it once again with him…all to myself. “God, you guys are great. Now it’s your turn, Grant announced authoritatively.” He wanted them to make good on his challenge he made to them earlier. “Gus, you’d better get these guys more lubricated. They may need it. The party’s just starting,” Grant urged. As these muscleheads started to take off their small, sweat-soaked t-shirts, shorts, and sweaty cum-soaked jock-straps. My mind was reeling. We hadn’t even gotten to the point of these guys taking Grant’s measurements. They had no idea of Grant’s unlimited strength and what he could do with weights that defied human efforts, and what he could do using them as human weights. And, shit, god only knows what would happen if they went into the showers with Grant. This was turning out to be one hell of an introduction to this unusual gym. Grant came over to me, cock bobbing and way out ahead of the rest of his body. I could tell he was really proud of himself and excited about getting these guys getting off. “Paul, my special friend, I hope you didn’t feel too ignored while I was in the spot-light there. Knowing you, I was hoping you’d be gettin’ off on the show, too,” he said with a look of concern. He started gently massaging the back of my neck and shoulders with his big powerful hands. “Oh, Grant, it was amazing. I was stunned that you got these musclemen to think and do things they would never do, especially among themselves. It was really hot. And I got off on it, big time. I ache so much right now. No, I sure as hell did not feel ignored,” I added. “Well, we’ve got to deliver real-time on those fantasies you just had. Knowing these guys, nobody will give a hoot if you blow your load during the next phase of our introductions,” he said with a big ass grin. “Hell, you’ll be doing what they’ll be doing,” he added with supreme confidence. Part VI to follow Feedback welcomed. No flames please. Copyright©[email protected]
  11. So this is one I had posted on the old forum. I lost all of my other stories, but I found this one and figured it still deserved to live on. Hope you enjoy it. Being a bartender actually turned out to be a pretty good day job for a witch. Mixing drinks wasn’t too different from mixing potions, and placing my bar in a college town meant I had plenty to keep me interested. There’d been plenty of times I’d used concoctions to alter people’s evenings, but it was always in good fun. Love potions were extremely easy to make, and it’s not like these kids weren’t coming out and getting drunk in order to get some anyway. Now, when you’ve been around as long as I have (about 500 years), you’ve seen it all: peace, war, love, heartbreak, fear, joy, hate, sorrow…you name it. I was convinced that the human race was nothing more than something to play with and profit off of, and nothing was going to change my mind. I suppose you could say that I’m pretty powerful as far as witches come, but seeing as how I hadn’t seen another witch in about a century, who could say? We basically kept to ourselves, and it’s not like anyone knew I was a witch. Witches don’t age like humans, but we look like them, so to anybody else, I just looked like a tall slender brunette in her late 20’s/early 30’s. Being 5’10 let me be kinda busty, and I had fun flirting with the boys. I’d slept with one or two just for fun, but when you’ve been around for 500 years, it’s hard to impress me. The one thing I had never done though, was actually alter a person’s physical composition. It was a hard spell, and people tend to go crazy with it. With modern technology, people can have plastic surgery and alter themselves all they like. That’s not my job and I’d decided to keep it that way…until… It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the bar was completely empty. It was kind of strange for there not to be a single soul in sight, but with midterms taking place, business picked up during the weekend as people drowned their sorrows, but during the week it was pretty dull. Then, in walks this guy. He seemed pretty unphenomenal. 5’7, probably 130-140lbs if I had to guess. Kinda skinny and a bit on the short side, but he had a handsome enough face. He was in a short-sleeved red button down shirt and khaki shorts. He had short brown hair and as he sat at the bar and looked up at me, I was shocked by his beautiful crystal blue eyes. As he sat down at the bar, he sighed and kept his head down. He was obviously having a bad day, so I tried to be cheerful. “What can I get for ya, sugar?” I asked. He kept staring at the bar, which was a waste since his eyes were the only exceptional physical quality he had. He kept drawing circles on the wood with his right middle finger, pondering. After about a minute, he looked up and just said “Something strong. I’ve had it pretty rough recently, and I need to either get drunk or find a magic solution to all my problems, so unless you’ve got something like that, I’ll be getting drunk.” He chuckled, and for some reason I thought that was the most endearing thing I had ever heard. The boy was cute, and couldn’t have been older than 21 or 22. I checked his ID, and sure enough, he’d just turned 21 a couple months before. I decided I’d see if I could help him out. I’m a witch, and he did ask for a magic solution after all. I leaned over the bar towards him and asked “What kind of problems ya got?” As he looked up towards me, his eyes stopped on my exposed cleavage before making their way to meet mine. “Lost my last two girls to…” he paused and sighed again, “…bigger guys” I made an audible “awwww” sound as he said that. I’d seen it in action. Tall beefy guys are definitely more successful at the bar than those like this guy of the shrimpier variety. It was something even I understood. Bigger guys were more attractive. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for this kid. He was kind of like a sad puppy, sitting in front of me, begging for a treat. I recalled his name from his ID. “Tyler, I’ve got something for you. It might not solve all of your problems, but it’ll make you feel better.” I know that I had pledged not to alter people, but for some reason my heart just went out to this guy. He was so pitiful looking that I just knew a bit of size would boost his confidence enough to really turn it all around for him. I walked to the bar and began mixing the concoction. I hadn’t made this particular potion in a few hundred years, so maybe I added in a bit too much of something or another, but it didn’t matter. The liquid was dark brown and looked like beer, but it smelled so sweet. I only poured him a shot glass full and sat it in front of him. “Try this.” Is all I said. He grabbed the glass and threw it back without question, and immediately the changes began to take place. He sat the glass down hard, and I knew he was feeling it, too. He shut his eyes and put his hands on the bar. They expanded and his fingers thickened. It spread up his arms and veins became visible as they thickened and lengthened. The short sleeves of his shirt filled up with his newly expanded beefy biceps. He threw his neck back and it thickened, too. He grunted and it sounded as though his voice was deepening. I had forgotten that the spell did that, too. His shoulders broadened and his chest heaved out. It grew so big so quickly that I nearly jumped out of my skin when a button shot off of the shirt as such a high velocity it shattered a bottle behind the counter. The loud POP of the button snapping off and the shattering of the glass nearly gave me a heart attack, but Tyler didn’t notice at all. His beefy pecs were now exposed as the shirt was opened for all to see. I peered over the bar to get a look at the rest of him. His stomach had surely tightened into a six-pack and his shorts were looking strained as his legs grew thicker and longer. I began to hear all sorts of ripping sounds as seams broke on his shorts and his sneakers. He shifted in his seat as his package grew, too. I’d added a bit extra to that portion of the spell. Well-hung men get places in life, ya know. The growth happens fairly quickly, and soon he’s brought his head back and he makes eye contact with me. He stands up and he’s now a bit taller than I am. I’d put him at about 5’11-6’0ft and a solid 180lbs now. I glance down at his crotch and see a visible outline of a sausage dick. Not bad! I think to myself. “This is amazing! What did you do?” Tyler is speaking so loudly, and his new deep voice is so…sexy. No, I’m not about to make a move on this guy…but maybe doing a bit of…quality control, wouldn’t be so bad… I’m having my own internal struggle, but I manage to reply, “You asked for a solution to your problems, so there ya go!” I wink at him and push my chest out a bit. He frantically scans the bar and shouts “I…I need MORE! I NEED YOU TO GIVE ME MORE! I’M NOT BIG ENOUGH YET!” His dick pulses in his shorts, a vein pops out on his neck, and a wet spot starts to form on his crotch. “Slow down tiger! You’re a pretty big boy already, and besides, I don’t think you’d be able to pay for this stuff if I charged you for it.” I try to sound seductive. I don’t know why I can’t control myself, but I want him so badly at this point I can hardly stand it. I’m not sure how he takes it, but he leans in to whisper into my ear “Oh, I can pay for it…” I melted right there. His deep, smooth voice was so sexy. He reached a huge hand up to my face and stroked it with the back of his hand so gently. I reached out and put my hand on one of his huge, meaty pecs. It was solid as a rock. I quickly turned and went back to the drinks. I made my way across the bar, hearing glass break under my shoes from the bottle that broke earlier. I didn’t care. I made a whole big glass of the potion and he was reaching for it before I had even finished it. I handed it to him and he chugged the entire glass. As soon as he finished, he threw it to the floor, shattering the glass. It was then that it hit me…I’ve literally made a huge mistake. ”RRRRRRRWWWWAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!” is all he can manage to say. He stands up and holds his arms out. He’s already showing signs of being obscenely huge. Again, his hands swell to a size big enough to palm a basketball. His arms explode in size, his sleeves tearing like tissue. He flexes those beautiful massive biceps. They’ve got to be over 20 inches. His traps swell up and his bull neck expands even further. His chest and back swell simultaneously, and I duck under the bar just in time as the rest of his shirt buttons fly off like bullets, striking glass and wood, and piercing into the wall behind me. He inches taller towards the ceiling. His thighs swell to look like cedars, and the push out his now engorged melon-sized ballsack and still growing dick. You can physically see it through the remnants of his shorts. A look of discomfort spreads across his face and one of his huge hands reaches down and tears away the rest of the fabric surrounding it, unleashing the beast. His huge dick is oozing semen. It runs down the long, thick shaft and begins coating his balls that are still physically churning and growing. It then begins dripping onto the floor. He continues to expand in every direction for a few more moments before it finally slows to a stop. “Oh my god…” is all we both say. We’re both shaking and horny. He’s a 7ft tall behemoth, and he’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. His still beautiful striking blue eyes meet mine, and he reaches across the bar, picks me up gently, and lays be across the top of it. I know he’s going to fuck me right on my own bar, and I want it. He’s so huge he can straddle the bar effortlessly. As he does, his huge dick and ballsack spread across the wood, and I’m so turned on I can’t stand it. My panties are soaked and all I want is for him to be inside me. I’m a witch, and I know I’m probably the only one who can take it all. It’s got to be a foot and a half long, and it’s as thick as a fucking soda can. Neither of us can say anything, but we’re both breathing heavily as he makes his way towards me. He reaches around me and tears my top off. He then reaches down and rips my jeans like they’re tissue paper and removes my panties the same way. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced. He fondles my huge breasts with such power and yet such delicacy. Already coated in his own precum as lubrication, he makes his way inside of me. It’s physically hot and literally the most filling experience I could imagine. Me, lying across the bar naked and him, behemoth straddling it, we make love. We made passionate, lustful, beautiful love right there. He reached his hands around either side of the bar and gripped it tightly, crushing the wood as he finally pushed his entire dick into me. I moaned loudly and he made a sound of astonishment. As he continued to fuck me, he got faster and more aggressive. I looked up at his huge biceps and saw that he began to swell yet again. I felt his dick engorge even more within my body. How the hell this is happening I have no idea, but I’m so turned on by it. He doesn’t grow much, but it’s noticeable for sure, even for his size. He roars again as his head balloons and he begins to fill me with his semen. There’s so much that my stomach swells. It fills me up and begins to dump out of my vagina all over the bar. There’s so much semen that it pours down the sides of the bar and coats the floor. We both breathe in sync as he continues to move in and out, up and down. It was a ride like neither of us had ever experienced. I thought for sure that after all of that, he’d be finished, but he doesn’t go soft and instead repeats from step one. We fucked four times, and as he moved, there was an audible sound of us moving through the slimy semen everywhere. It was incredibly hot. After his fourth orgasm he finally pulls out and lays back across the bar himself. How in the world it supported him I will never know. I couldn’t sit up. He eventually stood up, leaned over me, and gave me the gentlest kiss on the lips I have ever received. I grabbed his face and returned the favor more violently. After our Kiss, he made his way to the door, and stooping down and turning sideways, made his way out onto campus completely covered in his own semen and butt naked. I admired his thick ass as he made his way out. Still not a soul in sight, I slid myself off the bar and into a puddle of semen. The bar was damaged, there was glass everywhere, and I was a mess. A quick spell would get all of those things in order before customers came that evening. ”That was fun. I should do that more often.” I thought to myself as I cleaned up the bar.
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