The Muscle-God's Gift

[VRGoh]

You sit in the back of the bar, another lonely Friday evening accompanied by none save a bottle of beer that you've been nursing for the past few minutes.  This bar is known for its decent drinks and good service, and ends up frequented by many from outside the gay valley in which it's located.  The sign outside may name the place as the Ganymede, after Zeus's cup-bearer in Greek mythology, but it has another nickname, one known especially to those who come on Fridays:

MGB: the Muscle-God's Bar.

All of a sudden, the reason the bar gained its nickname entered the establishment.  Bigger than any human male had a right to be and just as shredded, he more than earned his sobriquet.  As usual, a white sleeveless muscle-shirt clung to his massive torso like a second skin, while a pair of blue jeans clung to his massive legs and spherical squatter's ass, not due to any custom tailoring, but rather the sheer size of his redwood-like thighs.  He comes in every Friday night like clockwork, but never buys a single drink.  Despite this, the owner doesn't seem to mind; the mere presence of the Muscle-God (as he is commonly known) is enough to bring paying customers into the bar every Friday evening.  He had allegedly considered changing the bar's name to its unofficial nickname, but the name fits in more ways then one.  Every time this anonymous stallion enters the Ganymede, another skinny guy swells with muscle, becoming another of what most call his Demigods.  Friday nights find the Ganymede packed with skinny twinks of various fitness levels looking to be the one he chooses.  Most end up rejected by him and finding solace in a beer or three.  Some even hook up with each other, brought together by their mutual desire for muscle.  The only thing that brought you to this bar was a recommendation from a coworker.  You weren't sure why he wanted you to go today, but the worst you thought would happen was getting a bad beer.

You never expected the Muscle-God to approach you, gracing your meager existence with his divine presence.  You look up from your drink, eyes as wide as saucers at the sight of this pulchritudinous paragon of perfection towering over you.  A warm smile spreads across his beautiful face, and you feel your cock becoming painfully hard.  One massive pec bounces absentmindedly, causing you to nearly cream yourself at his magnificent glory.  You try desperately to regain your composure, but there is precious little blood flowing to your brain.

"Like what you see, little man?" he asks you, his resonant baritone rumbling through your slim body.  Dumbstruck, you could only nod.  He takes a seat beside you, bringing one heavily-muscled arm around your narrow shoulders.  His forearm alone is bigger than both of yours.  He effortlessly pulls you toward him, a move you are both powerless and unwilling to resist.  Your hand finds its way onto his powerful pecs.  Granite only wished to be as hard as his muscles.

"Kiss me, and share in my limitless power," he said cryptically.  In any other situation, you might have asked him what he meant by sharing in his power, but your mind was too fried by his presence to do anything but obey.  He leaned in, aware of your abject submission to his power, and crushed your lips open with his.  A tongue as muscular as the rest of him invaded your mouth, wrestling with your own tongue and proving its superiority.  This was how it would happen: the Muscle-God would approach a small man and make out with him, transforming him right there in the bar into one of his Demigods.  As he made out with you, you noticed your T-shirt and jeans getting tighter and tighter.  As your lips danced with his, you saw your forearm swelling with power.  That was when you realized that your clothes weren't shrinking; you were growing.

You reveled in the change as you made out with the Muscle-God, feeling your biceps and triceps fill your sleeves to capacity before growing further.  Your back, once narrow and featureless, suddenly widened with linebacker traps and wing-like lats.  Your narrow shoulders inflated like balloons with powerful muscle, widening your silhouette even more, as your burgeoning pecs shove you away from his magnificence.  Beneath your ripping shirt, you can feel your once-flat stomach etching itself into a six-pack of rippling muscle.  Your glutes lift you higher in the seat, giving you that coveted bubble butt, as your quadriceps, hamstrings, and calves expand beyond the confines of your jeans.  A chorus of rips and tears signal the end of your clothes, and the end result of all of the Demigods of the Ganymede.  Everyone blessed by the Muscle-God walks out of the bar a stallion, as naked as the day they were born bur gifted with mass, beauty, and virility.  That last part was making itself known as your package swelled in your crotch, reducing your boxers to shreds alongside the rest of your clothes.  You wanted the kiss to never end as he pleasured you with just a kiss.  At last, his lips left yours and he gazed at you for the first time since sitting beside you.

"Stand, and behold my gift to you," he intoned.  Obedient, you stood, facing the full-length mirror.  Where once was a scrawny man whose size caused him to be mistaken for being half of your 30 years, there now stood a heavyweight bodybuilder with the kind of equipment seen only on porn stars.  Football-sized traps buttressed a taurine neck, sweeping outwards to a pair of cannonball shoulders.  Descending from those shoulders were a pair of arms bigger than your average guy's legs.  You flex your biceps, and a pair of massive boulders, chiseled to a peak worthy of the Rockies, erupt from the arms of the beast before you.  As you place your hands behind your head and crunch, a cobblestone set of abs becomes more defined on the beast's titanic torso.  As both you and the beast in front of you flex a single quad, it dawns on you that what you're seeing is your reflection.  The massive monster of mega-masculine muscle, whose own physique is second in awe-inspiring beauty only to the Muscle-God himself, is you.  You are now a Demigod of Muscle.  The thought of what you are now capable of causes your cock to swell with blood.

"There are many who would wish to have you here," he said, his thunderous voice giving life to your lust.  "Find one you wish for, and show him the capabilities of my children."

"Yes, Master," you respond.  You turn to the crowd, their eyes fixated on the newest Demigod, wishing for them to be chosen.  This was the other part of the bar's Friday festivities.  When the Muscle-God made his Demigod, that special man (though he was more than a man, but not yet a Muscle-God) would take a patron and plow them right in the bar.  None could stop you as you fucked a lucky twink, claiming him as your fucktoy, even if they wanted to.  You were now part of why they came to the bar that Friday night.  One lucky twink was going to be the one thing he wanted to be almost as much as being a Demigod of the Ganymede: a Demigod's fucktoy.  Your foot-long fuckpole stood at attention, its slit weeping pre-cum and you strode to a random guy, his eyes drinking in your glorious beauty.  He stood, knowing that he was chosen by you, blessed to become your fucktoy and willing to be so whenever you desired him.  Bending down slightly to compensate for your increased height, you pulled him to you and claimed his mouth with your own.  You felt him moan in your mouth as he quivered in orgasm.

"I'm yours, Demigod," he moaned in lust as he stripped.  "Take me right here."  You smile, glad for the tinted windows as you prepare his hole for your ramrod.  Elsewhere in the room, the Muscle-God watches as your partner proclaims your glory and his for all to hear.  He makes a mental note to fuck the owner senseless as thanks for his service.

[Hanugumo]

I wonder: What if the Demigod would desire the Muscle god more then anyone else? So after his transformation, he would choose to be fucked by his Muscle Master. >;3

I'm looking forward to reading more about the owner and the muscle god. ;3 <3 <3

 

Awesome story though. ^^ <3

[portamivia]

Hmmmm hot story, man! 

Of course I'd love to see the man being confronted by police... ;-)