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Part One

Roger Dixon was a stud!
 
It was almost as if he only had to step onto a bodybuilding stage and the world just caved into him. He won every single class he entered be it his local contest, the statewide contest, a regional contest, a national contest, a continent contest or even the day he was crowned Mr. Universe in his class, indeed that day he really let them know what he was packing. He stood up to his maximum height and brought the house down, showing off every sinew of his proportionate 266lb mass. His proportionate 53 inch chest, with his proportionate 2½ inch long nipples just oozed mascunlinity and when coupled with a proportionate 27 inch waist his proportionate eight pack was a thing of wonder to behold. His proportionate 22 inch guns, with veins streaking along them, were unmissable, his proportionate 28 inch quads glistened under the lights, his proportionate 23 inch calves and his proportionate 22 inch thick neck ensured that he won the best poser class as well and was even brought out to pose against the overall winner.
 
But that was all in the past. It was his own desire that was his undoing. First, when at a photoshoot he attempted a 300lb bench much more than he could actually manage to show off his power and tore both his pecs and then the real trouble came when he was caught in a media sting operation and outed. He had always been gay, he loved the attention of people drooling over his muscles, his cock a proportionate 9 inch monster when hard was his pride and joy, no one had complained when photos showing his bulge on stage flooded the magazines but as soon as he was outed, he was dropped faster than you could say "One Hit Wonder".
 
Even now, twenty years after last stepping on stage, he still looked after himself but knew that standing just a mere five foot two tall, weighing 146lbs though still as lean as anything, his 42½ inch chest, 32 inch waist, 14½ inch biceps, 22½ inch quads and 15 inch calves would never cut the mustard against the modern stars of the stage. Even the people in his grand master classes were bigger than he was and as he watched the recording of the last show he had streamed, he traced the buldging pecs of Mr. Grand Master Colorado 2015, a man aged as the same as Roger, 65, yet so muscular Roger wanted to wrap his arms about him and pummel him into submission.
 
But Roger now happy living at his home in Fort Collins, Colorado where he spent most of his days on online forums discussing bodybuilding history and reading stories about the most powerful men ever to exist on the face of the planet had his dreams and would regularly wake up, covered with a thick layer of cum having read stories, both real and fan made, of Hercules lifting an entire cliff face, He-Man wrestling a clone of himself, Milos of Croton splitting a tree apart with his bare hands and his personal favourite, the final act of that Titan, Porthos, holding up a cave to allow his friend to escape. Whenever he read that story, his dreams were always the same. He would rescue that man, take him to his own personal gym where people could train in the nude, and work that man until he begged for mercy, then ram him until he screamed for mercy and then, torture him with high voltage until he caved in and panted "I submit" and allow him and Roger to swap bodies so that Roger could experience the power of the Titan for himself.
 
This interest in the Titan of old eventually developed into an interest in Renn Faires and it wasn't long before Roger, dressed as the Titan himself, was a regular feature and made sure that his body was the centre of attention as demonstrated just the previous week when, whilst holding a talk on the strength of heroes, and deadlifting two hundred pounds for the whole talk, a Spartan came up, grabbed hold of his biceps and squeezed them saying "Arms, that would defy Hercules in their strength"
 
It was after a Renn Faire, where having been a member for a decade the organisers presented him with a leather bound copy of all of the tales of the Musketeers, that Roger found himself in a unique position. He'd been reading another one of Porthos's feats of strength and as per usual was getting very excited about it.
 
“This group was superintended by the man whom D'Artagnan had already remarked, and who appeared to be the engineer-in-chief. A plan was lying open before him upon a large stone forming a table, and at some paces from him a crane was in action. This engineer, who by his evident importance first attracted the attention of D'Artagnan, wore a justaucorps, which, from its sumptuousness, was scarcely in harmony with the work he was employed in, that rather necessitated the costume of a master-mason than of a noble. He was a man of immense stature and great square shoulders, and wore a hat covered with feathers. He gesticulated in the most majestic manner, and appeared, for D'Artagnan only saw his back, to be scolding the workmen for their idleness and want of strength”
 
“Oh, yeah” moaned Roger, “I think I know where this is headed” and with that started to rub his cock in anticipation.
 
“D'Artagnan continued to draw nearer. At that moment, the man with the feathers ceased to gesticulate, and, with his hands placed upon his knees, was following, half-bent, the effort of six workmen to raise a block of hewn stone to the top of a piece of timber destined to support that stone, so that the cord of the crane might be passed under it. The six men, all on one side of the stone, united their efforts to raise it to eight or ten inches from the ground, sweating and blowing, whilst a seventh got ready for when there should be daylight enough beneath it to slide in the roller that was to support it. But the stone had already twice escaped from their hands before gaining a sufficient height for the roller to be introduced. There can be no doubt that every time the stone escaped them, they bounded quickly backwards, to keep their feet from being crushed by the refalling stone. Every time, the stone, abandoned by them, sunk deeper into the damp earth, which rendered the operation more and more difficult. A third effort was followed by no better success, but with progressive discouragement. And yet, when the six men were bent towards the stone, the man with the feathers had himself, with a powerful voice, given the word of command, "Ferme!" which regulates maneuvers of strength. Then he drew himself up”
 
“Yeah” moaned Roger, the rubbing becoming faster making his cock longer, harder and redder , “You show them, Porthos”
 
“The workmen, as commanded by the engineer, drew back with their ears down, and shaking their heads, except for the one who held the plank, who prepared to perform the office”
 
“Oh, fuck” Roger moaned, as his hips started to buck and he could feel himself getting even more aroused
 
“The man with the feathers went up to the stone, stooped, slipped his hands under the face lying upon the ground, stiffened his Herculean muscles, and without a strain, with a slow motion, like that of a machine, lifted the end of the rock a foot from the ground”
 
“Yeah” he moaned again, “show them pure muscle!”
 
“The workman who held the plank profited by the space thus given him, and slipped the roller under the stone. "That's the way," said the giant, not letting the rock fall again, but placing it upon its support”
 
“YEAH!” roared Roger, “SHOW THEM ALL WHAT IT MEANS TO BE PORTHOS” and with that he came so violently that in combination with the long day and the orgasm that followed, Roger started to fall asleep and dropped the book to the ground moaning “Oh, Porthos, I wish I could meet you one day!” and with that slipped into sleep, his cock spurting cum as he did so.
 
This will be a very long story (but I cannot say how many parts it will be). I know from experience how boring that long a story can be so therefore I would like members to help liven it up with their artistic skills be it people like @powerbeats illustrating the sheer effort needed to perform a feat of near superhuman strength, people like @leogrando showing how big people are, or even @darkluster4 showing what happens later on when Roger experiences the full force of the Titan. Therefore I am giving every single illustrator carte blanche to draw what they like when they like
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Part Two
 
"Yeah, admit it Porthos. Your eyes are screaming "Please, I beg you, stop this torture" but your cock is telling me a different story. How many men do you know can do what I am forcing you to do? How many men can, whilst completely naked under a heat lamp to make your body all hot and sweaty, bench a falconet cannon? How many men can, at the same time have electrodes attached to their nipples, cock and balls and be commanded to withstand the torment of being e-stimmed? How many men can, at the same time as all that, have their pulse linked to the heat lamp so that the faster their heart pumps the hotter it gets? And how many men can, whilst all that is going on, with their mouth gagged, still be willing to carry on? Oh, Porthos, you are the Titan it is true, but, oh fuck, you are rapidly turning into a god in my eyes. So let's make you a god then. On the count of three, I am going to increase the voltage surging through you from a mere thousand volts to a million volts! Yeah, that's right, I am going to increase the voltage by a factor of a thousand! Yeah, your eyes tell me exactly what you are thinking. You're screaming "Mercy" well, you know what Porthos, tough. You see, before I started I hypnotised myself so that the only way you could end this was to do something and do you know what that something is? No? Well, don't ask me then because I don't know either. Yeah, that's right Porthos, you are subject to my whim until you do something. Now, prepare yourself, Titan, prepare yourself for the mental, physical and sexual agony that is a million volts surging through your body, prepare yourself for a mega amp of electrical current surging through your heart, making that heat lamp work overtime increasing the current even more as you sweat buckets. Yeah, that's right Porthos, you are going to become a god and you know it. One, yeah, this is it Porthos, two, get ready for the most powerful experience of your life, thr..."
 
"CADET DIXON! GET OUT OF BED RIGHT NOW AND FOLLOW ME!"
 
The sudden and quite unexpected alarm call woke Roger up with such a start that he came instantly. As the orgasm hit him, he opened his eyes dopily and came face to face with a monster. It was a man much bigger than he was, but sadly all fat and no muscle, with a scowling expression. Grabbing hold of the bedsheets the monster tore them away with such force that Roger screamed as the dried cum ripped off his torso and as he lay there completely naked, panting, the monster chuckled
 
"So who was the lucky fellow this time then, eh? Was it D'Artangan? Don't think I have seen you leering after him every time we go for a swim? Or is it Albert? Are you trying to get him to invent something that will make your dreams reality? Or is it Henri? Just because he knows the Ultimate Musketeer, you seriously think he'd let you anywhere near him! Hah, now get dressed and come with me, the Captain wants to see you and he wants to see you NOW!" and with that bellowed instruction Roger woke up, jumped out of the bed and got dressed in double quick time all the while the monster laughing his head off. As Roger completed the task, he stood to attention and tried to make sense of what was going on as he followed the monster. It was pretty clear that he was not in Fort Collins as where in Fort Collins, no scratch that the United States would there be almost a castle like building that seemed to be home to various people (all men) doing things straight out of a Ren Faire. There were people jabbing at dummies with large swords, chatting around barrels and even one person doing a very good impression of being pelted with tomatoes. After a while, the monster told Roger to stop and he knocked on a door and was allowed entry.
 
Roger tried to figure what was going on but was failing badly. Just then the monster came back, snapped his fingers in front of Roger and said "Hey, dreamer! Captain Treville wants to see you!"
 
As Roger entered the room, his head was spinning. "Captain Treville? No, that's impossible! That's the person in charge of the Musketeers and Porthos's superior officer!" He was so lost in his thoughts Roger collided with the Captain's desk and caused Treville to look up. He was clearly annoyed. He stood up to his full height, towering over Roger by a good six inches, and looked down at him.
 
"You have been here for two days, Cadet!" he bellowed, "and yet in that time you have managed to desecrate the flag of our King, scare off our best horses, ruin a perfectly good sword and if that wasn't bad enough, disgrace the uniform of a Musketeer cadet by swimming in the Royal pond naked!" and with that glared at Roger before shouting "Do you have anything to say?"
 
"Was Her Majesty pleased?" asked Roger, with a smile on his face
 
"PORTHOS!" shouted the Captain at a volume so loud Roger covered his ears in case they popped. A short while later, the Titan entered and as he did, Roger began a quivering jelly.
 
"Porthos" said the Captain, "I am giving you responsibility for this ruffian. I am assuming that as you're the strongest Musketeer you can try and knock some sense into him!"
 
Porthos looked the quivering mass that was Roger up and down and chuckled to himself saying "Captain, I believe I can" and with that picked Roger by the shoulders and brought him up to his face. He was about to make a comment when Roger took the chance and kissed him. Porthos pulled him away and roared his anger
 
"Summon the garrison, Treville" he bellowed, holding Roger at arms length, "this man has dared to challenge the might of Porthos and for that he shall pay!"
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Part Three

"Musketeers" shouted Captain Treville, "Musketeer Porthos has been challenged to a series of feats of physical strength chosen by his challenger Cadet Dixon. Come one, come all and witness this battle of strength"
 
Roger was surprised that Porthos had agreed to his choice of events (all of which he excelled in) and was beginning to wonder if this was a big mistake on his part but decided not to show any sign of pulling out as Porthos entered the centre of the garrison to a huge cheer. Roger gulped as nearly every Musketeer jeered him as he entered despite bowing to Porthos who ignored him completely.
 
"The first event" bellowed the Captain with all eyes focused on him, "is that traditional test of strength between two men, arm wrestling. To ensure fair play, both contestants must show that they are using only their arms therefore their torsos must be exposed to the world"
 
Roger smiled and roared as he ripped off his top of his uniform and hit a most muscular pose making sure that Porthos got to see every single part of his torso. For a moment he was back on stage and as he squeezed his pecs hard, he could imagine the crowd roaring his name. Sadly as he opened his eyes he saw that the roaring was for Porthos and as his eyes took in the Titan, he could feel himself getting excited.
 
"Oh man" he moaned to himself, "I knew Porthos was big but, oh fuck, look at him. He's a good foot taller than me and he's got to be at least 233lbs of almost fat free mass. Oh, fuck, that glorius chest, it has to be 47 inches at least, and those straitions. Come on, keep it together man, he's...oh shit, those biceps, nineteen inches of hard guns, oh man, this...this is going to be more of a challenge that I was expecting. Come on, Roger, get it together, you're were the undfeated arm wrestling champion at the Arnold five years in a row. You can take him!" and with that Roger approached his opponent.
 
Porthos and Roger sat down facing each other, grabbed each other's hand, rested them on a table as Treville made sure their arms were sturdy. Then with the command of "Wrestle" he let go and both men tested their strength. Roger was relieved when it became clear that he was able to contain Porthos's strength, as he knew that if he could ensure that Porthos didn't win within five minutes there was every chance that he could because he had endurance, stamina and determination. He was going to take Porthos down. Indeed, for the Musketeers this element was starting to get a little boring as both hands stayed stationery.
 
"Come on Porthos,” shouted a voice, "you can take this upstart down!"
 
"What do you think I'm doing Athos?" Porthos grunted but still the hands remained stationery. Beads of sweat were starting to form on Porthos's brow and so Roger decided to take a chance. He took a deep breath and pushed hard. Porthos was taken quite by surprise but managed to prevent his hand going down. Roger piled on the pressure, his heart pounding, his breathing getting deeper and deeper and looking deep into Porthos's eyes. Suddenly without warning Porthos's hand hit the table and with that Roger leapt up and hit a double biceps pose only to be greeted by booing.
 
Amongst the Musketeers booing was Albert and D'Artangan who commented that Porthos must have something that didn't agree with him.
 
"Now that's a little unkind!" said another voice as it joined in the conversation, "even Titans have an off day!"
 
"Henri" humphed Albert, "you are sometimes too English for your own good!"
 
"Does it show that much?" chuckled the latest arrival. As both D'Artanagn and Albert looked him up and down, they nodded in unison to which Henri replied "Look, you know perfectly well why I am here. I have to stop the Duke's meetings with the Queen from becoming common knowledge in England. The fact that everyone knows about them in France is all right, after all it what you Frenchies do. Me, I just do my job and help you and the rest when I am able to!"
 
"And look it as well?" added D'Artangan
 
"Well, excuse me!" replied Henri annoyed, "We can't all be Ultimate Musketeers you know. Don't think I haven't heard you wanting to meet him one day, and that experiment of yours Albert, admit it, you don't want to listen to his pulse really do you? You just want him to be in your presence for a few moments!"
 
Both men bowed their heads to which Henri replied with a loud chuckle, "Oh, come on you two, look, next time I see him I'll have a word and see what he says? All right?" and with that looked at his wrist clock and gasped "Heavens, I'll be late, tell me how this ends up will you? I've got good money on Porthos you know!" and with that Henri dashed off leaving D'Artangan to chuckle "Shall we tell him that Porthos loses just to see his reaction?"
 
"The next event" announced Treville before Albert could answer, "is the cask lift. At the far end of the garrison are five casks. The first one is empty, the second contains wine, the third wet sand, the fourth stones and the fifth contains cannonballs. Your task is to start from here, pick each cask up and run back to the start, creating a tower as you go. The person who is able to build the tallest tower wins. Cadet Dixon, as the smaller, you go first. Aramis, a gunshot if you please!"
 
Aramis fired a gun and Roger raced off. The first cask was easy, and he had no problem picking it up and arrived at the start a mere fifteen seconds later, next came the cask of wine, again a complete doddle, and placing it on the empty cask he arrived back at the start just forty five seconds after starting. However by the time he got to thee third cask of wet sand, he was having problems. It wasn't due to the weight, after all he had overhead pressed a lot more than this; the problem was balancing it all but he made it back to the start with three minutes have elapsed.  Walking as fast as he could he reached the cask with the stones and rearranging the pile so that the casks he had already collected were on the top, he picked them all up and started to gently walk back to the start, sadly the tower was not as stable as Roger had hoped for and the first cask fell off the top, shattering at it hit the ground and Aramis signalled that he had finished by firing a gun again.
 
As Porthos set off, Roger was breathing hard but confident that Porthos would have the same problem as him, but was staggered when Porthos tipped the casks on their side and balanced them on his barrel chest. Thinking that is not what the Captain wanted, Roger was about to raise an ojection when a gun fired. Roger turned round to see Porthos with a broad grin on his face with a tower of two barrels on each of his pecs and the fifth balanced between the two.
 
"Fuck!" Roger moaned to himself as he felt his cock harden.
 
"The final challenge" announced Treville silencing the crowd, "will decide the result. It will depend on the strength of the legs and the stomach, therefore I ask that all Musketeers of weak stomaches to leave the courtyard!"
 
Roger was a bit bemused by this statement and wondered what was going to happen, his answer soon came when Treville turned to them.
 
"Gentlemen, you may now disrobe!"
 
Porthos wasted no time and tore off his breeches leaving Roger stunned. There was his hero, Porthos, naked as the day he was born with an unbelieveable cock that, even though it was flaccid, had to be nine inches long. He was so in awe of it, that he just stood there transfixed. Treville had seen this before and with that clapped his hands and as he did Athos came up, grabbed hold of Roger's breeches and ripped them off stating "Get on with it!"
 
Treville then instructed them to both sit down with their legs apart then manually moved them so that Porthos had his legs wrapped around Roger and Roger had his legs wrapped around Porthos. Next he summoned Athos who arrived with a two pairs of chains that he attached to both of their hands that were placed behind them. "The first person to force the other to submit is the overall winner,” announced Treville, and with that Aramis fired the gun.
 
Roger was delighted. This final test was right up his street and he soon dived right into the task. It was a little tricky trying to manoeuvre and Porthos's cock got in the way on several occasions but eventually he had managed to free him from the hold and had Porthos face down in the dirt with his legs behind his back. He was finally confident that this wouldn't take too long. Or at least he would have been if he'd not heard Porthos growling. He managed to place a finger on Porthos's pec and was stunned to count Porthos's pulse climbing to almost a hundred and ninety beats per minute. He was gearing himself up for something and that something was to take Roger's breath away. With a roar, Porthos snapped the chains and threw Roger onto his front. If Roger wanted to win he was going to have to do the same. The idea of breaking a chain like in the old muscle films he watched was unbelievable, but as he remembered all the golden age peplum stars Steve Reeves, Dave Draper, and even Arnie breaking free of being imprisoned by flexing their big powerful muscles, he felt himself starting to loose control. And as he did he growled, pulled on his chains and let rip, pulling against them with every ounce of strength he had. Slowly, but surely, he could feel the bonds losening and as he did, his cock started to react and gradually started to work it's way closer to Porthos's ass. The closer it got, the more that Roger got excited and the more he got excited the stronger he got. Just as his cock was level with Porthos's ass, he took a deep breath and screamed as he ripped the chains out of the ground and then launching himself at Porthos, grabbed him in a leg lock and squeezed hard around his neck with every ounce of strength in his quads. As Porthos realised what was happening he struggled to break free, but to no avail and after a valiant struggle, he gasped "I surrender,” gasped Porthos.
 
Roger stood up, and flexed hard as Treville raised his hand. The Musketeers didn't know what to think until Porthos stood up and addressed them.  "Fellow Musketeers" he said, "It has been written that I could only be bested by a son of Hercules. Behold that son!" and he raised Roger's other hand in the air causing the garrison to cheer as they too recognised that they had a new hero in their midst, a man that much shorter than Porthos who in turn was shorter than the Ultimate Musketeer but had strength that could match both of them.
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Part Four

Half an hour later, Roger stood in wonder. He was now standing in the quarters of the Titan himself, who was laying on his bed, still as naked as he was when he lost his battle. As he lay there, his hands behind his head, causing his mighty chest to bulge, Roger couldn't stop himself looking at him. His pecs were massive, even more now as his torso gently heaved with each breath, his abs, all eight of them, appearing and disappearing in turn and his cock, still hard enough to bob gently with every pulse of his heart. As Roger looked he was in conflict with himself as two alternative visons played out in his mind.

"Oh, you Titan" Roger roared and leapt onto the Titan, somersaulting as he did and landing so that he was able to swallow the Titan's cock in one. As the Titan moaned, he thrust his own cock deep into the Titan's mouth and satisfied that Porthos was trapped started to lick the Titan's cock. The Titan's breathing became more ragged and he could feel the Titan's cock become harder and thicker but still he carried on licking, the sensations feeding him like a lion as his own cock grew and started to slither down Porthos's throat. As it did Roger could feel the Titan's pulse in his cock get faster and faster as he felt his own pulse increase and a few moments later both men's faces were racked with agonised ecstasy. Unable to contain himself Roger came, flooding the Titan's mouth his with cum and seconds later so did Porthos and as both men orgasmed, they flopped out of each other's mouths and moaned contentedly.

"Oh, you Titan" Roger roared and leapt onto the Titan only to be grabbed by a powerful hand around his neck. As the Titan sat up, his eyes full of fury he bellowed "Monsieur, you may have bested me in a battle of strength, but I only love women. I have heard of your kind before, you are usually sent as a spy" and with that he wrestled Roger to the ground, pinning him in a cross formation and breathing hard growled "Who sent you and what secrets have you been told to escape with? Answer me, or face the end of your life!" and with that Porthos raised a fist and aimed it straight at Roger's stomach.

"Son of Hercules, why do you stand there?" asked Porthos interrupting Roger's dual thoughts, "You have bested me in tests of strength, therefore your reward is to be by my side!"

Roger just continued to stand there and sensing that something was wrong, Porthos sat up adding "Did not your father say that lying with men was the only way to praise a hero?"

Roger bowed his head and said, softly to himself, "No" as he remembered his own teenage years. His father was a member of the most right wing Christian conservative church it was possible to find. He openly supported every Republican presidential candidate, even Barry Goldwater in 1964. Which made what happened to Roger in 1968 the last straw for his father. Roger was the star of the gym class, he was already benching close to 200lbs and would often be seen flexing his guns for the girls, however that all changed when a new exchange student from Iceland arrived. As soon as Roger saw him, he fell in love with him. He was only a year old than him, 19, but he was huge. Six foot, 220lbs, and built like an outhouse. His size was proven when after Roger set a new personal best of 220lbs, this monster of a man, lay down and benched what has taken Roger every ounce of his strength to do once, twenty times, without even breathing once. After they had finished, Roger had the sheer bad luck to run into him in the showers and just stood there in shock as he washed an ten inch flaccid cock. He noticed Roger and said, in a heavily accented English "Ah, Roger, you are strong, yes?" and went to shake his hand. What happened next Roger couldn't understand but instead of shaking his hand, he kissed him, his cock hardened as he did so and he came with such violence his orgasm was heard by the gym teacher who gasped at what he saw. That evening his father disowned him, wrote him a cheque for $10,000 and told him "GET OUT OF MY LIFE, YOU ARE NO SON OF MINE!"

Sensing that something was wrong, Porthos got out of bed and placed a friendly arm around Roger saying "It is all right, son of Hercules, no one bar you and my dear friend Henri knows that I like the company of men. Henri has sworn that he would never reveal my secret, even under pain of torture and I trust him, after all any man who knows the Ultimate Musketeer is a man who can be trusted. So come, son of Hercules, lay by my side, accept your reward!" and with that he gently picked Roger up and carried him to the bed laying him beside him and placing one of Roger's hands on his pecs and the other on his cock whispered "Enjoy, son of Hercules, make me the Titan a man!"

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Part Five
 
"Oh, Porthos, Hercules, He-Man, oh, I...I cannot thank you enough for this. I have dreamed about this for, oh, decades, but to actually experience it first hand. Oh, fuck, I know I am going to cum so hard this is going to give me the mother of all orgasms, so whilst I am still able to form complete sentences, thank you. Now, everyone get ready. Porthos, you lie down first, that's right, now stretch your arms and legs out. Oh, fuck, just you lying there naked, your body exposed, oh fuck, I'm getting hard already. Now, let's restrain you to that metal frame. That's right, now give it a good tug! The chains, Porthos, not my cock! Excellent, now keeping pulling. He-Man, help me onto his mighty cock. Gently, ooooh, fuck, gently, oooh, fuck, this is magnificent. Look at me Porthos, impaled on your mighty weapon. Next Hercules, yeah, that's right, suck my cock, gently, now, we want to make this last for as long as possible. Don't worry He-Man, I've not forgotten about you, that's it clamber on. Doc, when He-Man deep throats me, throw the switch. Send that stored lighting bolt through the four of us and lets see how much power we can withstand. Yeah, that's it He-Man, lower it, lower it, oooh, you are a tease aren't you, lower, lower, lower. Doc, throw that switch!"
 
As Roger lay there on Porthos's bed, swallowing the non existent cock of He-Man, his body humping and his face etched with dreamed agony, the door opened to the room and the new visitor to the room tutted with a smile. Walking over to the bed and the waking dreamer, he leant down and whispered "More?" to which Roger nodded, moaning.
 
"A billion all right?" asked the visitor and as he did, Roger's body started to increase the speed of its humping causing the visitor to smile.
 
"A trillion?" he asked and a moan came as a reply
 
"How about a quadrillion?" he asked and with that Roger came with a mighty "YEAH, BEHOLD SUPERMAN!" and with that hit a front double bicep pose as he orgasmed.
 
As he did his eyes started to open and he moaned "Kiss me, He-Man, kiss your newest Master of the Universe!" to which the vistor replied "That's very kind, but I'm already married" and as Roger's vision started to clear he found not He-Man, the most powerful man in the universe virtually naked save for a loin cloth but a rather podgy, but friendly face who smiled "Ah, so you're the man who Porthos has been raving about eh? I can see why!"
 
Roger immediately grabbed the bedclothes which caused the man to laugh out loud "Oh, for goodness sakes, you're not the first naked man I seen in that bed" and still chortling he took a notebook out of the pocket of his uniform and a pencil out of the other and asked "And your name is?"
 
"R...R...Roger!" stammered Roger wondering who this man was. As the man wrote down the name he asked "Is that with four R's or just the two?" and then looked at the quaking man on the bed and sighed. Sticking out a hand he said "I do wish Porthos would remember me more on occasions. Henri de Ceredigion at your service, consider me Porthos's equerry!"
 
As Roger shook the man's hand still covered in the bedclothes he asked "Equerry?"
 
"Well" replied Henri, "that's what I call myself. He calls me "the person who keeps me in check" and your last name?"
 
"Dixon" came the reply
 
"Roger Dixon" noted Henri, "And where are you from? No, don't tell me, let me guess. Dixon, Nantes? Nah, not the right spelling. Nimes? Too far south. Pau? Do you come from Pau?"
 
"Fort Collins!" Roger replied and as Henri noted it down he said "Fort Collins? You know that rings a bell with me somehow but I just cannot place it at the moment, never mind it will come to me I'm sure. Now then date of birth, let see if I am any better with that!" and with that he whipped the bedclothes off Roger exposing his naked body and looked him up and down rubbing his chin with the pencil before declaring "1600!" and was about to write it down when Roger said "No, that can't be, I'm 65 years old!"
 
"Wow!" declared Henri as he looked at Roger again, "1560, eh? No wonder Porthos has taken such a shine to you. You look bigger than most people here and they are in their mid thirties!"
 
"No" replied Roger, "I was born in 1950!"
 
"1950!" noted Henri and then paused. "1950?" he asked as he looked up and as he did he stared at Roger intently saying slowly "Roger, have we met before?" before suddenly declaring "ROGER, oh, Roger, it worked!" and with that leaping for joy exclaiming "Oh, it was just on the off chance but I'll never doubt Alexi again in a million years!"
 
"I don't understand?" asked Roger as Henri came to a halt.
 
"Roger!" he said, "It's me, Henry, you know Henry from Cardigan, in Wales, CardiMuscleFan on that online forum that you frequent? The one where I write stories about Porthos's mass and strength and you usually reply with lots of emojis suggesting that you are cumming like a fountain!"
 
"Henry!" exclaimed Roger, "but how?"
 
"It was that book that Renn Faire gave you. I gave them it to give to you as a present, but not before I had been to see Alexei, our local miracle worker to see if he would get you to come and visit. Turned out all it needed was the Ultimate Musketeer's seed impregnated into the pages of the book. Knowing how much you get off on Porthos's feats of near superhuman strength, I reckoned that his seed and your seed might just work and here you are!" and with that he clapped his hands with joy, threw away the notebook saying "Don't need that anymore!" and threw Roger his uniform saying "Get dressed, RogertheMuscle, we've a Titan to thrill with the good news!"
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Part Six

"Henry..." Roger went to ask as his friend showed him the way, but was stopped by a friendly, if warning "En Francais, s'il vous plait!"
 
"Henri..." he continued which earned him a friendly smile as he carried on "...where are we going? I thought you said that we were going to see Porthos?"
 
"We are" replied his friend, as he opened another door and as they passed through it, picked up a flaming torch.
 
"Then why are we doing down?" asked Roger, "It's almost sunset, shouldn't Porthos be drilling the cadets?"
 
"Oh, Roger, Roger, Roger" chuckled Henri as they continued their descent, "you think you know Porthos but you don't know him at all. Tell me, Roger, what do you like to do most in the world as soon as the sun goes down?"
 
"Well, after closing up the gym that I help to run, I usually go straight home, flop in front of the television, log online and read lots of lots of muscle fiction whilst listening to a good peplum movie!" he replied
 
"Yes" smiled Henri as he opened another door, "and what do you do after that, especially if it is a hot night?"
 
"Have a good gym session!" Roger replied and then opened his eyes, "You mean, Porthos has a gym?"
 
"Well, I personally wouldn't call it a gym myself, indeed most people would call it...well, here read for yourself!" replied Henri as he raised the torch above a door that read "Videte, fortis, in disciplina"
 
"Which means?" asked Roger, to which Henri replied by putting his fingers to his lips and gesturing for Roger to listen. As he did he could hear grunting, gentle at first that got louder and louder until there was a growl of a caged animal followed by the clang of something metallic hitting the ground followed by deep breathing and a moan. As Henri knocked on the door he said "Titan, may we come in?" to which the reply came "Henri, did you bring him?"
 
As Henri opened the door and replied "I did indeed, Titan" he stepped out of the way of Roger who almost came. There, in the middle of what was clearly a dungeon was Porthos, completely naked, sweat dripping all over his body, lying on his back with what looked like a cannon resting on his chest.
 
"Is he...?" stammered Roger to which Henri replied "...benching a cannon? Yes, yes he is" and with that nodded to Porthos who took a deep breath and lifted the cannon. Each lift was accompanied by a grunt of effort, the Titan's pecs jumping with each lift, his abs appearing and disappearing with each lift and with each lift Roger became more and more lost in the sight of the Titan's power. After twenty lifts, he dropped the cannon to the ground, sat up and with a cheeky smile squeezed his chest. Roger gritted his teeth at the sight, he wanted to cum there and then, fill the already musky smell of the room with his own cum.
 
Without a word, Porthos stood up and with that nodded to Henri who nodded his head and picked up two buckets full of sand, and placing one in each of the Titan's hand he waited. Porthos lowered the buckets until they were level with his waist and when they were Henri pushed his shoulders back up. The two men did this twenty times and as they did Roger exclaimed "Pull ups" to which Henri replied, "You see, how many gyms do you know that allow people to train naked and lift buckets of sand eh?"
 
Barbell Rows were replaced by pulling a large bucket of sand along the ground with Henri pulling it back, incline bench presses were achieved by Porthos lying on Henri's back as he lifted two buckets of sand in each hand, Squats saw Henri become the weight as he sat on the Titan's shoulders as the Titan bent his knees, Dumbell flyes saw Porthos lying both and bringing two buckets of sand together and apart, and even cable crossovers had a version as Henri attached the buckets to two ropes at either end of the room which allowed Porthos to bring them together and as he did he squeezed his pecs as hard as he could and grunted "Punch them, Roger, feel the strength of the Titan" and so on each squeeze Roger punched them and over the thirty reps his hand started to hurt as he began to punch harder and stronger muscle. On the last rep, Porthos gritted his teeth and grunted "Now, Roger, look at me, look at my power and resist it" and held the pose. As Roger watched the twitching muscles, he started to pant. This was way better than any peplum torture scene, this was way better than any muscle fiction, this was... "ecstasy" he moaned as he felt himself getting hard.
 
After a minute, Porthos was breathing hard as was Roger, after two minutes Porthos was sweating like a pig as was Roger, after three minutes, both men were getting hard and after four minutes, Roger came so violently that as he orgasmed he slumped into Henri's arms. As he bore his friend, Henri smiled "Well, I don't know about you, Titan, but I think he's ready to meet our mutual friend. But shall we let him have his dreams first?" and with that he shouldered his friend and headed back to Roger's quarters saying "Sleep well, fair prince of Colorado!"
 
I wanted to post this yesterday evening but the forum was suffering from the same problem I have mentioned before where the chat box doesn't load, therefore this was written before the attack on London Bridge last night
 
As I shall be very busy with the general election for the rest of this week, the next part will not appear for at least a good week or so, therefore if anyone wants to draw any of the scenes so far, you have absolute carte blanche to do so with my complete blessing
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Another tragic atatck hits teh worls. Man. we are fuck up.

I wonder if it's possible to have the Iceland exchange student back. If he was big in high scholl. He most be a power beast now. One that Roger, Porthos and Henri would enjoy.

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Part Seven

"Porthos, I have always thought of you as a god, but, oh man, if you say that this will make me your equal, then I have only one thing to say. DO IT! Yeah, oh yeah, I can feel it Porthos, the pain shooting through my spine as you pull that wheel. Yeah, make me growl like a man, make me need to resist that turning wheel pulling me apart. Oh yeah, yeah, I can feel it, heart pounding, making my muscles bulge, more Titan, come on, double time, make me beg for mercy and show me none. Oh, fuck, yeah, yeah, faster, faster Porthos, stretch me, make me as tall as you, no taller, allow these muscles to fill that frame. Oh fuck, yeah, yeah, yeah!"

As Roger's latest dreams played out in the form of him bucking his hips, a man stood in front of him watching, chuckling every now and again. He had heard about this man from his mutual friends Porthos and Henri and it looked as if everything he had been told was true. This man was indeed as muscular as he had been led to believe, as strong as he had been led to believe and from the way he was bucking his hips just as sexually aroused as he could be. This last point was proven when Roger gasped as he came and moaned "Porthos, we art now gods" and as he orgasmed the man stepped forward, knelt down beside the bed and whispered "You have dreamed a god, my lad, now witness one!" and gently blew on Roger's face. As Roger slowly opened his eyes, he moaned "Porthos, kiss me, kiss me my lover!" and the man, not wishing to disappoint him, did so. As Roger savoured the moment, he became fully awake and as he did, his eyes widened in shock and as he scrambled up he gasped "He-Man!"

"Nay, lad!" replied the man standing up and towering over Roger, "Although I can see why you might call me that. I am the Ultimate Musketeer and I have come to ask you an important question, but before I do" and with that he turned around and almost with a chuckle said "Describe me, lad!"

"Describe you?" asked Roger, "I...I...I...I can't. There are no words to describe you!"

"Tell me what you see, my lad!" came the reply with his back still turned, "that will be enough!"

"Oh man" moaned Roger, "a back, wider than any other back I have seen in my life, a Christmas tree like no other, a set of glutes that...oh man, they look like melons, and those hams and those calves. What are you?"

As the man turned around, there was a loud clank as the breastplate he had been wearing fell to the ground and as it did the man said "Say what you see!"

"What I see" replied Roger, half moaning, "is the biggest man ever. You must be seven, no, eight feet tall at least and as close to four hundred pounds of lean muscle as is possible to be. Your pecs, they are...they are like orbs of power, eighty inches in circumference at least but that waist, it can't be...can it? Forty inches, that's, that's, that impossible, but those ten pack abs cannot lie. How lean are you? Oh, man, please, I beg you don't do that without some kind of warning, if I see those thirty two inch guns flex like that again, I'll cum. Man, you are, you are literally the ultimate man I have ever seen, forty inch quads, thirty three inch calves, oh man, please, please, oh, please I beg you. Are you, are you a Musketeer as well?"

"Verily lad" came the reply, as he hit a most muscular pose that caused Roger to grit his teeth, "and now I come to ask the question that I came to ask. You must answer this question truthfully, lad, if you do not then I shall never see you again and you will not be able to remain here. Are you ready my lad?"

It took all of Roger's willpower not to cum as he nodded.

"Do you want to become a Musketeer? Do you wish to follow in the footsteps of Henri, of Porthos and of me? Speak now, lad, or remain in denial for ever!"

"OH FUCKING YEAH!" screamed Roger as he came again, "I WANT TO BE A MUSKETEER!" and with that he passed out and collapsed onto the bed. As he did, the Ultimate Musketeer chuckled to himself and as he let himself out of the room he said "I believe that he is ready my friend!" to which Porthos's unmistakeable voice replied "And I am ready for you too, mon amis!"

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Part Eight

"Good morning Roger" declared Henri as he flung the shutters open in Roger's quarters, "did we have a good sleep last night, ready for the rigours of your..." and then paused and tutted gently to himself as he said "Alright, Roger, who was it this time? He-Man strapped into an electric chair, Conan being pulled apart by wild horses? Hercules making love to you?"

"The Ultimate Musketeer" moaned Roger as he started to stir, and as he did so, the cum dried on his torso started to crack.

"Goodness!" exclaimed Henri, "Already? My word, he must really like you I say. Usually he visits the new cadets on their fifth day of training but their first day, well, well, well, you must have really made an impression on him. So what did you make of him then?"

Roger closed his eyes, moaned and came for the twentieth time in the last eight hours and as he did Henri chuckled to himself saying "Well, get yourself cleaned up and report to the courtyard in an hour, Treville doesn't like to be kept waiting you know!" and with that Henri gave Roger's hair a playful rub and left the room in order to help with the drilling of the new recruits. As he did, he bumped into Albert who gasped "He was here, wasn't he? Last night, I...I...I am sure I heard his footsteps outside my quarters!"

"What, in the name of His Majesty" replied Henri, his arms folded, "makes you think that I would know what the Ultimate Musketeer gets up to of an evening?"

"I don't know" said Albert, "all I know that you and he seem to know each other like brothers!"

"It is true that we do indeed know each other very well" said Henri, "but brothers? That's like said that I am Aramis's cousin!"

"But you could be" said Albert as he listed example after example of how Henri and Aramis treated people with kindness and civility at every turn.

"True" smiled Henri as he bypassed Albert, "but do I look like a mountain of muscle?" and with that Henri carried on his way. As he watched him leave Albert chuckled to himself saying "Thanks to that bug I have placed in your pocket, Henri, I will find out" and with that replayed his "accidental" and yet on purpose collision between the two of them where he managed to slip a tiny insect into Henri's jacket pocket. This insect, would, at regular intervals fly back to Albert carrying a message, a message on a tiny piece of paper that would relay the last sentence that Henri spoke before the insect was summoned. Albert knew that by the law of averages, one of those messages would reveal just how well Henri knew the Ultimate Musketeer, a man who, if the rumours were true, had a heart so powerful, if scaled up to a man could row the King's boat all the way from France to the New World without needing to eat once. Rumours, that Albert was desperate to put to scientific investigation.

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