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Arthur Thorn Part Three by F_R_Eaky


FREaky

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Sorry it has taken a bit to get back to this story.  Life is what happens while you're making other plans and all. LOL  I hope you enjoy this next chapter.

 

Arthur Thorn Part Three

by F_R_Eaky

 

 

Part One: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/10588-arthur-thorn-part-one-by-f_r_eaky/

Part Two: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/10601-arthur-thorn-part-two-by-f_r_eaky/

 

 

David nervously paced back and forth in the hall of the hospital in an state of extreme aggitation.  After the ambulance brought him and Arthur there, they separated him from Arthur and began to ask all sorts of questions.  When Ian Francis, David's personal trainer arrived to stand with him, they pulled him aside to ask him many questions as well.  David, a police officer, knew this line of questioning.  They were trying to see what kind of physical abuse he had done to Arthur.

 

 

David explained what had happened to Ian and Ian was talking to him still trying to understand what had happened, or rather how it happened.

 

 

"It's impossible, David."

 

 

"It's not impossible, short men like Arthur have done..."
 

"Yes, yes, yes.  Short men like Arthur have lifted huge things like you in and overhead press like fashion, but only if they're built like Lee Preist or some other bodybuilder or power lifter.  Arthur simply couldn't have over head lifted you and especially not from a lying down position."

 

 

"I'm telling you it happened.  I was trying to wake him up because he was having some kind of nightmare.  He kept shouting over and over again someting about 'why can't I move it?'  Like he did the day of the Earthquake when all that incense burnt up and he nearly died from smoke inhalation."

 

 

"Well... I don't know how it would be possible for a 5' 4" tall man with a build like pipe cleaners would be able to do that."

 

 

Just then from the vistor's doors David saw his boss, Captain La Nou'vie, come in.

 

 

"Captain, what are you doing here?"

 

 

"I'm here on official business, but it's all right, Hamm."

 

 

"Offiicial busi...? They don't think that...."

 

 

"It's all right, Hamm!  I've just come back from your house with investigating officers and we know there's nothing there.  You just have to understand the hospital was only doing what they thought they needed to do.  Besides, Arthur's awake and he's told them you didn't do anything to him.  I'm just here to confirm that story from an investigative point of view."

 

 

"He's awake?  Those bastards didn't tell..."

 

 

"Calm yourself down.  They couldn't tell you as they thought it was a case of domestic abuse."

 

 

"I need to go see him.  I have to..."

 

 

"You'll go home and get some sleep.  They've sedated him so he'll sleep.  They're still trying to figure out how he burned his hands.  They're second degree burns, did they tell you?"

 

 

"No.  They've told me nothing as of yet."

 

 

"Well, we know you didn't do it, but the things is we can't find anything in the house he burnt his hands on.  Especially around the bed.  Nothing has any burnt flesh on it or registers having been hot enough to do so.

 

 

"Listen, you get a ride with your friend here back home and just let them take care of Arthur for the night.  We can try to get a fresh look on this in the morning, but right now your frustration and pacing won't accomplish a thing.  Go home and get some rest."

 

 

The next few days, weeks even were rough.  Arthur needed time for his hands to heal, but his form of recreation and relief from boredom was his artwork, painting, which he couldn't do.  Having to wait for the hands to heal plus physical therapy to make sure they worked correctly again was driving him bananas.  On top of this there were still further questions from Internal Affairs trying to see if David was the cause of the burns, him forcing Arthur to place his hands on something hot or holding his hands while placing a lighter under them or some such thing.

 

 

But David grew more and more worried for Arthur.  The nightmares still seemed to be occuring, although not to the extant they were and without the hands burning as they did before.  On top of that when his hands were healed enough and part of his physical therapy was to do minial tasks such as pen or brush holding, he had begun painting pictures, but the theme of them was somewhat bizzare.  He was painting things like circles with ribbon like tenticles coming out of them with short golden people around them.  Other times he was painting close ups of muscular male forms with another male form looming in the background all shilouetted. Still there were the times he painted odd cubes with silvery tubes, black loops, and circles with firey colors all around it.  These painting he usually trashed when done with them.

 

 

The more he painted these images, the more agitated Arthur seemed about his height, his build, every part about his body.  Finally David told him to use part of his physical therapy time and work out with his trainer, Ian.  Perhaps a work out would improve his view on his body, maybe even doing so by improving his build.  If nothing else the work out might relieve some of his stress.  Reluctantly, Arthur agreed.

 

 

For the first few months everything seemed to go well.  Arthur wasn't putting on any really good size mucularly, but his strength was increasing and he appeared to be resloving some issues and his anxiety and frustration was lessening day by day.  Then he walked in... ... ...

 

 

Georgio "The Bull" Toro.  Six feet three inches tall in height.  three hundred and eighty pounds in now middle-aged, off season weight - all of it muscle except for his spreading muscle gut which now was containing some fat.  He had a small amount of hair over his body, barely visible from a far, and a head of medium long black and white peppered hair.  He was once a Mr. Olympia.  Held the title seven times before he retired about twenty-five years ago. Still he kept up his appearance, size, and strength pretty well for a man his age and for being retired.

 

 

He strolls into the gym like he owns it.  Hell being Mr. O just once, let alone seven times gives him enough gym cred he could walking into someone's personal living room that contained a weight set and own it.  He's got the waddle down as he kicks his legs out to the side allowing his absurdly amble thighs to roll out and around each other in order to walk.  His calves bunch and flex as he lands almost tip toed in his weight lifting shoes.  The calves and thighs straining his leggings and workout shorts to near bursting point.

 

 

As he waddles his shoulders sway moving front to back, front to back with each step.  One can't help but notice how incredibly wide and tick everything is about his torso.  The shirt and hoodie he has on hides nothing of his form across the top.  Once can see the rolling movement of the gigantic bowling ball delts as his arms swing front to back.  One can see the strain and stress as the shoulders, back, and lats pull the clothes across farther than they are allowed to be.  Meanwhile the neck rises out of the top hole, but only just; his neck threatening to snap the collar in two, if the mounding pectorals that was his chest doesn't first, upon entering the area a good half a foot before he does.  Once past the lats, the frabic hangs so loose and gathers and bunches in excess cloth and folding wrinkles.

 

 

But everyone's attention is caught up on those arms swinging from side to side.  Like the torso, the sleeves on the arm react the same way to this man's incredible physique.  Tight and form fitting across the delts, then down undulating upper arms, and over the forearms.  So full and bloated those muscle were on could not only see their size, but the definition and separations of the double bellies of the bicep, the meaty back of the tricep, the buldging of the forearm and all the veins running heither and yon across them all.  These sleeves were a painted on second skin that threatened to split and burst at any second, except for all that gathered loose material near the wrists.

 

 

At first everything seemed fine.  Gerogio was making this his new gym and came in to work out and basically hold sway and court over the whole place every day he came in.  Arthur used to sit there and feel timid about continuing his workout while Gerogio was there and would slow down in performing his curls and presses.  Of course he had to try and hide his little erection too because Gerogio was built a bit larger than what David was and it was an incredible turn on to Arthur.

 

 

But somewhere things began to change.  Arthur's nightmares began to be more frequent.  His paintings repeated the same odd paterns but he finished them with much more haste, zeal, and passion, in shorter amounts of time.  During his nightmares he began to call out Gerogio's name, and David wondered if he wasn't losing his boyfriend.  Not only that, but Arthur began to become agitated when Georgio entered the room.  It made him work harder, but also faster, sloppier, breathing heavier as he stared Gerogio down through the wall mirrors, although Gerogio never noticed.

 

 

More and more Ian would have to try and snap Arthur's attention back into focus, correct him on his lifting techniques, adjust his weight levels back to what he could actually lift.  Finally it came to a head.

 

 

One day after Gerogio came in, Arthur became very stiff in his form.  Ian tried to get him to calm down, but Arthur told him to piss off.  Ian walked away to work off his own steam as he really didn't want to have to calm down Arthur once again and make him focus like he should.  He came back quite a bit later to see some of the gym staring at Arthur who was strainging under a bench press machine with a bit more weight than Arthur could handle.

 

 

"Arthur!  What are you doing."

 

 

Arthur whispered. "He's not taking this gym from me..."

 

 

"What?  Arthur, what's wrong with you."

 

 

"He's not taking this gym from.... urrrrh.....me...."

 

 

"Arthur you have too much weight on the bar, you can't lift that, you're going to tear something."

 

 

Ian went to help Arthur out when suddenly Arthur got the bar up and back into the rack screaming out, "HE STOLE SOMETHING FROM ME, THE MOTHER FUCKER!"

 

 

It frightened Ian so much that he did the other thing he though he could do.  Smacking Arthur across the face, he brought Arthur back to present day conversation and place. "Would you get a hold of yourself?  What's wrong with you?  You were trying to lift well beyond what you normally can do.  I know you managed to get it up but still, the kind of strain you just caused could have resulted in permanent and serious injury."

 

 

"I'M FINE IT'S...."

 

 

"DON'T MAKE ME SMACK YOU AGAIN!"

 

 

Arthur breathed in through clenched teeth deeply several times, never looking at Ian.

 

 

"That's it.  You're out of here today.  Go to the saunas, then a few laps in the pool, and go home!"

 

 

Arthur went back into the locker room, hit the showers where he stood under a nice warm flow for about ten minutes and then wrapped a towel around his waist and headed for one of the saunas.  Slamming the door open he picked up a full mug of water and threw it onto the stones, creating a huge billowing cloud of steam, before sitting down on the bench.  He leaned back resting his head on the beck above and behind him, his feet dangling off the bench he sat on, but not quite reaching the floor.  He closed his eyes mubbling and muttering to himself, but soon fell fast asleep.

 

 

Within minutes flashes from his nightmares began to cross his mind.  A car... a tree....  but then Gerogio appeared in them holding something like a pocket watch in his hand and laughing profusely.  Car....tree......Gerogio.....flashing white lights....laughter..... flashing red and blue lights....

 

 

"Why can't I move it.... WHY CAN'T IT MOVE IT! ..... HE STOLE IT FROM ME.... HE STOLE IT FROM MEEEEEEEE!"

 

 

Suddenly Arthur was convulsing, shaking.  his legs stiffened and stuck straight out, his feet bent and flexed up and down.  Closer and closer they got to the floor.  His shoulders began to rise up a little bit higher taking his head off the bench behind him and in its place putting his arms, arm pits, and back upon the ridge.

 

 

"Arthur!  I thought I told you to go.... Arthur?"

 

 

"I'M A MILE WIDE...A MILE WIDE!"

 

 

Arthur's waist expanded just a little bit causing his towel to come undone.  His torso shifted and his butt slipped off the bench and Arthur collapsed to floor.

 

 

"Oh, my god!  Someone.... somebody call for an ambulance!  Call 9 1 1!"

 

 

Arthur's body rocked and popped on the floor like he was doing the worm.  Ian tried to grab him and turn him on his side, treating it as though Arthur was having a seizure.  Arthur's cock, unseen by Ian due to the steam, began to ooze out of Arthur further and thicker while his balls inflated a bit.

 

 

Just before the EMTs arrived David had shown up.  Ian and other staff members ushered David to the side and told him to just wait there, let the EMTs get him loaded onto a gurney and then he could ride with him to the hospital.  The EMTs got him loaded and covered and then placed into the ambulance with David following right behind.  Doors closed they sped off to the hospital, the EMT calling in.

 

 

"We have a caucasian male, mid-twenties, approximately five foot ten - to six feet in height, approximately one hundred-seventy to eighty pounds in weight.  Has collapsed with an apparent seizure and has burns on his hands. His BP is...."

 

 

David stared down Arthur looking a little perplexed.  This looked like Arthur facially, except maybe a little fuller.

 

 

"Listen, you got the stats wrong.  I know my boyfriend.  He is exactly a foot shorter than me at five feet four inches tall and he barely breaks a hundred pounds of weight, he's so thin."

 

 

"Sir, we're trained guestimate height pretty well, and the gurney has a scale on it."

 

 

While the EMT went to writting things down, David pulled the sheet down Arthur's body and sure enough there was an average height man, with an average to decent sized build, and an average to good sized cock as well.  Pulling the sheet back up over Arthur's shoulders, David could only wonder, "What is going on with my boyfriend?"

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