Mr. Muscle Daddy's Prize - Part Three

[londonboy]

[Sorry, I'm not talented enough to link the first two chapters. Please forgive me. - Wanted to revisit this one for a friend.]

 

Dexter Robertson never thought – for a second – he’d be lucky enough to be the prize of someone as huge as MD, well, anyone, for that matter.  As they rode through the streets of Los Angels and onto the 10 Freeway the small guy felt freer and safer than he ever had in his entire life.  He could feel the powerful heat radiating off of MD’s monstrous body behind him.  MD . . . short for Muscle Daddy, which was the perfect name for the man behind him.  As promised, the muscle daddy’s hand had already undone Dex’s pants and his massive fingers were playing with the raging hard-on, which the little guy already knew would be there until they arrived in Palm Springs.  It was quiet enough on the road and MD was going slow enough that they could have a somewhat shouted conversation.  

“I have some questions, sir,” Dex turned his head to the side, getting a good view of MD’s enormous pec.  The thing looked as if it were in perpetual flexed mode.

“Figured you would, little man.  Shoot away.  I’m an open book.  A huge open book.”  There was a tighter squeeze of Dex’s cock through his underwear to encourage the smaller man even more.

“Were you always big, sir?”

“Yeah, I popped out of my mom at almost twenty pounds.  Shocked the doctor to hell.  I grew really fast, too.  At age eight I could lift the back of the family station wagon.  Dad made me do it at every gas station, just to freak out the attendants.  At twenty-one I won my first strongman competition and blew past every record on the books in California.  I got bored with all the pretty-boy gyms in Los Angeles, especially since nothing was heavy enough for me, so I moved up to Oregon, bought some land, and started a one-man logging company.  I’d rip up the big trees, crack off the branches, and then carry the hulking things to the truck by myself.  It was a lonely time, but I made a lot of money.  I also got huge.   So huge, in fact, that I caused a bunch of Bigfoot rumors in the small towns near wear I lived.”

“How old are you, sir?” 

“Look at you – asking a big guy his age.  Aren’t you the rude one!  Just kidding, Dex.  I’m not one to hide a thing.  I turn sixty-two next week, son.  That’s another reason I chose you tonight - as my prize.  You’re also a little early birthday present to myself.  I’m a powerful behemoth that has everything a man could need, so I tend to be a little choosey with my gifts.  I had decided I was coming back from Los Angeles with a bulldozer or a man, so I’m glad I met you.  It’s a little freaky if I carry a bulldozer on my back riding down the freeway.”

The thought made me shiver a little – seeing this silver-haired giant hoisting a big yellow machine on his shoulder and riding the giant Harley down the road.  I heard a little chuckle in MD’s voice, so he could have been kidding, but I just wasn’t sure  - not with the size of the man.  I assumed I had only been privy to a small taste of his strength up to this point – anything might have been possible.  He mistook my shaking body for something else.

“You cold, little man?”

“No sir, MD.  I just get a little overwhelmed thinking about what you are capable of.”

“Ooooh, just like a good muscle pig should.  I’m glad, little Dex, very glad.” The big man put one of his platter-sized palms against my chest and pulled me back into his rock-hard torso even more.  My butt cheeks and lower back got a preview of MD’s size-matching hard cock as it pulsed menacingly between us.  I could actually feel how powerful his tool would be – just from its hardness and size.  This made my own cock leak a little pre-cum and the big man must have anticipated that.  He slid a big finger down beneath the band of my briefs and ran it across the slit of my dick.  He then brought it back out to his lips and let his tongue savor my juice.

“Oh hell yeah, sweetness from a sweet man.  The nectar of Dex.  I have a feeling I’m going to have you spewing that sauce so much I’ll be able to store some up for days when your spent and need to rest.  This big man needs feeding all the time, son.  I’ll be grabbing you a lot and sipping that hard straw of yours like you were my Big Gulp from some Seven-Eleven store.  Speaking of juice, we better feed my hawg some gasoline, soon, or I’ll be carrying you and this big thing the rest of the way home.  That wouldn’t be a problem, but I’d actually like to get there sooner than later – how ‘bout you, Dex.”

“The same for me, sir.”

“Oh, kiddo, you’re going to be so good for me.  I’m going to pump you with so much of my manliness you’ll be fitting into that oversized jacket in under a year.  Your days and your nights are only going to be filled with dreams of me.  And my cannon is going to stay rock hard just thinking of you.  Now that I’m retired, most of my day is filled with lifting, sex, eating, sex, exercising, sex, posing, sex, freaking out the neighbors with my size and strength, and more sex.  It’s a good life, son, and I’m going to make you so happy.  There’s a nice filling station just down that exit.  Better zip up your pants, son, I’m not sharing any part of you with another guy.  Especially that raging hard part.”

We pulled into the run down gas station and the bright lights enabled me to get a better view of the gigantic vein-covered guns that surrounded me.  The wind had turned very cold, but MD was still shirtless – as if his hard muscles dared the temperature to try and make him cold.  He slid his hand under my ass and lifted me off of the seat, easily.  He then placed me on the ground and I got a good gander at his cork-sized plugs protruding from his perfect pecs.  My mouth watered in anticipation of sucking on those things.

“Dex-man, your face gives you away.  I can tell you’re thinking about licking, sucking, and kissing all my muscled goodness, aren’t you, squirt.”

“Yes sir.”

“That’s a good little boy.  How about you go take a piss while I fill up. We still have a ways to go and I’m going to buy us a few large beers to help keep you warm.  You might want to watch me go in the little store there, just to see the face of the guy at the counter when I walk up.”

I glanced into the shop that was attached to the garage part of the station.  There was a tall skinny lad intensely reading what looked like a comic book.  That fact immediately made me get excited.  This was some young adult that was into superheroes – and I was pretty sure he was going lose his shit when he got a glimpse of MD.  The dude didn’t even bother to look up when the bell on the front door rang to announce a customer.  It was only after the big man had grabbed a couple of twenty-four ounce bottles of beer and blocked out most of the light when he walked to the counter that the John Deer capped kid looked up.  Even outside I could hear the high-pitched ‘holy shit’ scream and the thud when the shocked guy fell backwards in his chair.  MD leaned over the counter and grabbed the front of the dude’s overalls, pulling him back onto his feet without any problem.  The guy just continued to stare open-mouthed at the muscle daddy in front of him.  MD glanced out at me and gave me a smile and a ‘thumbs up’ for the attendant’s reaction.  I suddenly realized I really did need to pee, so I headed to the side of the station where the bathrooms were.  I was surprised to see a pay phone half-box mounted to the wall near the bathrooms.  Up until that moment I had not thought about my life other than the present moment with MD.  For some reason the phone made me suddenly get a little nervous.  I knew nothing about this man.  I was traveling into the unknown with him and no one knew where I was.  My gut told me to trust him, but my brain kept saying I should, at least, let a friend know where I was.  MD had made it clear that I wouldn’t be going back to work – which was fine, since I didn’t like my job, anyway.  I did, however, feel like I should explain this turn of events to someone.  I picked up the receiver, smiled at the fact that it still worked, and then dropped some quarters in.  I was too busy to notice the imposing figure that came up behind me and on the third ring took the receiver from my hands.

“I thought I told you, Dex, you don’t need anything or anyone now that you’ve got me.”

There was MD, holding a bag of beer in one hand and the receiver in the other.  He pulled slightly and the coil connecting the thing to the phone snapped away – easily – right as I heard my friend pick up and say hello.  Then the hairs along my neck stood up as the sound of heavy plastic being crushed filled the night air.  MD’s huge hand covered the receiver completely and he crushed it with one slight squeeze.  Tiny piece of debris slipped to the ground from between his fingers and then he opened his hand to reveal nothing but shards of plastic, some mangled electronics, and nothing else that even remotely resembled what had been in his hand.  Then, just to prove his point, MD reached out and grabbed the top of the metal box attached to the wall.  His fingers pressed into the wall above the thing and dug down into the concrete.  With nothing more than an easy tug – sparks flew out, lighting up the sky – as the entire holder and phone were torn from the wall.  The sound was deafening, but – true to form – the attendant didn’t come outside to see what was happening.  It was then I guessed he probably still hadn’t moved from his shocked frozen stance.  Holding the phone box in one hand, MD slowly started crushing the thing into nothingness right before my eyes.  He made sure to hold it at my face level so I’d see his forearm and biceps balloon out even more because of his destruction.  Soon, the box was nothing but a jumbled piece of metal, which he let fall to the ground with a loud thud at my feet.

“Crushing that phone was just as easy as crushing your cell phone, Dex.  Now, why on earth would the little man want to make a call?”

MD placed his big hang against the wall and my gaze went to the sizeable hole nearby that had been so easily made when the phone box had been pried away with only one hand.  Swole didn’t come close to describing MD’s veiny forearm or humongous gun that bulged at eye level.  I swallowed hard and turned to look at the big man’s face.

“I got nervous.  No one knows where I am.  I thought I should tell someone where I was going . . . I’m sorry, sir.”

“No, no, no, kid – it’s okay.  I got so excited about having you as my prize I kind of forgot that I was changing your life completely.  I can come on a little strong, if you haven’t noticed.  I guess I’m just gonna have to earn your complete trust.  But let’s make a new rule – if you’re feeling nervous, scared, or just bothered about anything – you tell your muscled old man, okay?  Here I’ve gone and destroyed public property just because you didn’t tell me how you were feeling.  I know we both enjoyed the show, but someone else might need to make a call one day and all they’ll find is this gaping hole and a lump of metal embedded in the dirt.  So, little pal, we got a deal on being honest about how you feel?”

“Yes sir, MD.”

“You feeling good, kid?”

“Better than ever, sir.”

“Well let’s fill up my hawg and then get back on the road.”  MD waited for me as I went into the bathroom.  When I came out he grabbed me by the back of the head and brought his face down to mine.  He gave me another painful manly kiss that thrilled me to the tips of my toes.  He then placed his big hand on my ass and easily lifted me into the air, carrying me back to the bike.  I sat on the seat as he filled up the machine.  I glanced back in the shop and saw that the guy was still standing at the counter – mouth open wide and staring into space.

“Is he okay, MD, sir?”

“Yeah, he’s still breathing and all.  I think he’ll snap out of it in about an hour or so.  He was fine until I flexed my arm.  The size of my gun just sent him into la-la land, I’m afraid.  I’ve had that kind of effect on lots of people through the years.  No one’s died of shock, yet.  Funny, he was reading an X-Men comic book and the only thing he said over and over as he stared at me was ‘Mr. Wolverine’.  I think he thought blades were going to come out between my fingers at any minute.” 

As we drove away I glanced back at the place where a huge chunk of concrete had been ripped from the wall with the phone box.  I also looked at the breadbox-sized lump of metal below.  This huge man – the one who had already undone my pants and was again stroking my hard cock with his thick fingers – had pried a half phone booth from the wall as if it had been a paper flyer and nothing more.  I could feel the hardness of the man all around me – his tremendous pecs against my head and upper back, his oak-limbed arms pressing into my smaller arms and shoulders, and his thighs, which made kegs look tiny, squeezing my lower body roughly, but lovingly.  I was this man’s prize.  We were heading to his home in Palm Springs and he wanted to make me completely happy.  The adventure just kept getting better.  I was beginning to relax and totally accept my new future.

[iceman751]

I loved reading this story a great deal, always been a fan of your older man fiction, LB, and I enjoyed this even more because we got somewhat of a backstory that pretty much included him being huge from birth and so strong that at 8 years old, he could do a feat of strength that very few grown men can do. And those men have to be big, muscled and strong, though I don't doubt that MD was very big even at that young age. But of course he grew bigger and stronger and now at 61 going on 62, he's a true beast that tears and crushes metal like a normal human does to paper! I look forward to more!

[hans]

Thank you so much for continuation one of my most favorite stories.

Here are links to Part1 & Part2

Looking forward for more of your great stories!

 

[londonboy]

Aw, Hans you are so kind to post the first two parts.  Thank you very much, good sir.

[GymWolf]

FINALLY!!! I've been waiting for this for many years!!! Thank you @londonboy!!!

[londonboy]

My pleasure, sir.