Popular Post londonboy Posted May 3, 2020 Popular Post Share Posted May 3, 2020 The first sounds of wood cracking make the mouths of each man drop open in shock. They had known it was coming, but there was something in the deep recesses of their brains that made them want to doubt it – to build up the excitement. They liked to think I might not be able to do it. This increases the thrill of it all. A few small slivers of wood sprinkle down to the floor as the sound of splintering continues. The sturdy piece of sports equipment being totally defenseless in this battle. It’s just a wooden bat and two hands. But it’s what those two hands are doing to the bat that makes the small group gasp. It’s not held over a knee or an extra padded head – no, the bat is held straight out by two hands keeping it even with the six pairs of watching eyes. Watching without blinking. Who would want to miss a thing. Wood can be so loud as it is slowly destroyed. I smile – making the men moan, for they realize how easy this is for me. Suddenly, the side of the bat snaps open and jagged shards of wood fan out in protest at being so brutally broken. The six do not breathe . . . time stands still for all of them. It’s a mixture of pure adoration of the strength feat displayed before them and a desire to not let their body give in to the need for release that has been building. My strong hands twist the bat at the same time that I pull – wood struggling loudly to still hold on. It’s no use, though. The bat has lost. Chunks of wood fall to the ground as the once strong piece of gear, and sometimes weapon, is completely ripped in two. The ease with which this has all been done astounds the onlookers. I am happy we still have six dry crotches. I like it when the fun lasts a long time. I like the idea of grown men’s balls turning blue from willing their bodies to not ejaculate. I love that they, too, want to wait. Shocked looks of disbelief and soft, incoherent mumblings of doubt as I put the two shattered pieces of wood together pleases me even more. Each man is now completely oblivious to the fact that there are six of them watching. They feel as if they are alone with me. They are the only one beholding this special show of power. Everyone knows the most important rule of this unusual treat – there is to be no touching of private parts unless the okay is given. A side thrill for myself – controlling them in this way. I can tell it is actually painful to abstain from groping, stroking, or yanking – yet, every man obeys as if his life depended on it. Even in the midst of agony, they want to delay gratification. My record is five spewing at the same time. It always seems that there is one man with almost superhuman resolve to hold out longer than anyone else. However, there has never been anyone to last our entire time together without shooting. The record of actual number of orgasms during a session was set by a husky college football player – he offered four loads in the span of our three hours together. No one has come close to beating – forgive the pun – that display of manly virility and endurance. He had to be carried from the room – even hours later, however, his body was just to wrecked to move on its own. When the two halves of the bat begin to splinter in my powerful grasp, the men begin to comprehend the full extent of my power. I watch as I become much more to them than a showman . . . they begin to view me as almost god-like. My chest has swollen to an unfathomable size as the doubled wood begins to crack apart. They want desperately to touch me . . . but that is also something that is forbidden. Imagining what my hard muscles feel like, I know, doesn’t come close to the real thing – but someone might get hurt if their arm was near the splintering wood. I also believe no one would be able to prevent themselves from spewing if they felt my marbleized body. Since I am already pumped with adrenaline and warmed up from breaking the bat in two, destroying the two combined pieces comes even easier. Moans of lustful pleasure erupt from the group as two pieces become four – the bat now a pile of kindling at my feet. The explosion of sound as wood succumbed to my power was deafening, but the grunts of approval echo even louder in the room when I am done. My expanded pecs are now heaving – lightly covered in sweat that sparkles within the heavy fur that cascades over the bulging mounds. My nipples jut out invitingly, causing all six men to wet their lips with their tongues over and over. Each man had been able to hold the bat prior to the show. Watching their minds verify the thing’s density, weight, and supposed strength was part of what I liked most about these events. It made the reality of what I was going to do for them that much more exciting – and they remembered how indestructible the bat had felt in their hands as they looked at the scraps now on the floor. It takes them a while to catch up, to fully understand what my bulging arms – now jacked from the display of power – had done. I always give the men a few minutes to let the severity of my strength sink in – and to give their crotches a much-needed rest. I am the consummate showman – having learned exactly how to edge a guy to the brink of explosion and then giving him the chance to let the excitement recede like a wave going back out into the ocean. Prolonged release was my middle name. I controlled cocks as easily as I destroyed wood. Everyone’s eyes bounced in time with my chest – heaving up and down. It took a lot of strength to demolish the bat, but I also made it much more dramatic than it actually was – as a way of increasing the inner build-up within each man. I promised the kind of earth-shattering splatter that made grown men become dizzy and need to lie down – and never had I not delivered. No man looked me in the eye, they were too mesmerized by my mammoth pecs. I grabbed the metal bar – the length of a pool cue and as thick as a rolling pin – that was leaning against the wall. The surprise, doubt, and lustful excitement doubled on each face. A baseball bat was child’s play compared to this chunk of steel and every man knew it. My grin got bigger and slightly more devilish than before. I watched as each guy seriously questioned what my actions insinuated I was going to do. Surely there was no way, they all thought, which was exactly what I wanted. Wood was one thing, but hard thick metal was made specifically not to be easily manhandled. I was viewed as way too cocky if I thought I was going to do damage to the substantial bar in my hands. Again, the thing was held out for the men to hold – the six of them taking it in their hands and me watching the bar dip downward as they took on the weight. What I held easily, would have been almost impossible for one of them, alone, and was still a strain for all six. I grabbed the bar back – my hands about the same distance apart on the thing as if I were breaking a baguette in two. The ends of the long thing stuck out as wide as the combined shoulders of the men. Sometimes, I wore an old, tighter-than-hell t-shirt as I did my next feat – just to let the thing be ripped to shreds as my body ballooned from the effort of what I was doing. Today, however, I had decided this particular audience was more interested in thick veins popping up all over my body and seeing my wet matted fur darken as I displayed my strength. I had made the right choice – I saw that I had a little group of fur-lovers. Wood, being ripped in two, screams loudly as it’s broken, but the high-pitched screeching of metal being manipulated in ways that it was never intended to move is definitely much more of a thrill. To many men, the destruction of wood by a man’s big arms is feasible, but the destruction of really thick steel – something that is used to keep skyscraper’s standing – in the same manner is the stuff of superhero movies. This time, there is much more doubt in the eyes staring at me. This makes me extremely happy as my arm muscles explode and my face starts to darken from exertion. The first loud sound the steel emits sends the room into chaos. Hands desperately want to tweak nipples, clamp down on balls, or start moving up and down on hard cocks. There’s also a sudden fear that envelopes the group – grown men realizing they are in the midst of someone much more powerful than them, even put together. It’s that slight nervous panic that gets my juices flowing the hardest – and even makes my strength increase. These men are starting to wonder if they have bitten off more than they can chew. They sense that I could do some serious damage to them if I wanted to – and even in the midst of that dread, they get even more excited. There’s the possibility of much more destruction and that turns them on. All of this intense contemplation, however, stops as soon as the metal bar starts to bend. The men have no idea where to stare – the growing arms, biceps becoming insanely big from tension, the bulging pecs growing massive right in front of them, or the middle of the metal bar as it starts to bump upward because it can no longer withstand the power in my grip. The room is filled with the shrieking of metal having to do what it does not want to do. Six uncovered cocks quiver back and forth from the shrill sound and the sight of steel being weaker than my monstrous biceps. It’s clear, suddenly, that one poor guy will not last. The volcano that is the tip of his cock erupts, his eyes roll up into his head, and his body – stiffened like a board – falls over like a tall tree falling in the forest. His body convulses on the floor as his orgasm continues, even though he is now unconscious. Not one of the other men stops to check on or even look at the downed soldier. They don’t want to miss a thing and they know that each of them will go the path of their overwhelmed comrade at some point. The man just couldn’t take it anymore, that was clear from his deep short moan – ending in a loud gasp – and intense vacuum stomach as his balls blasted juice out his cannon like a Las Vegas fountain. Another rule is that every man must be totally nude. I like to see what my show is doing to their body and it’s a lot more pleasurable if they’re totally uncovered. At first, every guy that partakes of my show is embarrassed and self-conscious of his nudity and that of the other guests. That, however, dissipates as soon as I remove my shirt and reveal my bulging, cut-from-marble body. You can’t be self-conscious when you are so turned on by another guy’s body that you forget your own. Each man certainly feels inadequate and small, but that goes away, too, as soon as I start showing off my strength. I look down to affirm that my first victim is still breathing – can’t have a reputation of causing heart failure or cardiac arrest. He’s certainly still alive, still ejaculating, and has the biggest grin on his face – all, even while unconscious. I am constantly amazed how weak most men are when it comes to holding back an orgasm. The dick definitely controls a man’s body, however. It’s not the brain and it’s certainly not the heart. It’s the thing that can make a man’s eyes disappear in his head and his body shake uncontrollably. It’s the one thing – the cock - that can’t be controlled no matter how hard one tries. I love a guy that thinks he won’t get hard during one of my shows. That man is usually the one that shoots rigid the fastest. But even if, by some miracle, a guy doesn’t get a boner just from seeing my huge muscled torso, I can always count on that snapping of wood, as I destroy the bat, to make his cock stand at attention. It’s just the way of the world – strength displays electrify men. That’s why we love the Hulk and Thor. It’s why movies and television shows about Hercules are always so popular. It’s even why we loved Lurch on The Addams Family and Herman Munster – they were super strong and they didn’t even know it. Power demands attention . . . applause – and that’s what a hard-on basically is, your body saying thank you. It’s a man’s way of saying he really, really likes something. My buddy on the floor is now lying in a fetal position and is clearly dreaming of me, by the look on his face. I’m glad I could make his day. When the two sides of the metal bar come together I feel the kind of exuberant satisfaction a normal guy might feel doing something as simple as hitting a homerun. I’ve bent metal like it was nothing more than string cheese. I can tell that two more admirers are about to explode. I know just what will send them over the edge, too. Two massive arms making steel do their bidding is hot as hell, but then when those two arms twist the steel together – making the two ends into one, well that is a whole other level of excitement. I made it look like I was simply twisting a tie that holds the container of a loaf of bread in place. Metal being squeezed together and turned so it looked like only yarn being twirled together. No one in the room was breathing. The metal bar was still screaming from the abuse I was handing out. And, as planned, it became too much for the two guys who had been teetering on the edge of detonation for a while. I love it when I can cause an onlooker to shoot so hard that his cum hits my body – across the room. Sticky white man-milk splattered against my hard abs as one man screamed with the power of his orgasm. He sent semen missiles so hard across the empty space between us that it sounded like fists hitting a punching bag when they landed. I was duly impressed by his pecker power. The man’s face turned a deep purple as three huge volleys of cum blasted at me. The other man’s cock was sticking straight up, so his man-honey sprayed across his own chest, hitting his chin because of his thrusting power. It was easy to see that both men were going to collapse as soon as they were done squirting. The one guy shooting the length of the room made a thick noticeable path of fresh cum on the floor between his body and mine – like an arrow pointing to what had caused his explosion. It was almost sweet to see both men crumple happily to the floor at the same time – smiles of pure bliss on each of their faces and their arms around each other. They were sound asleep in seconds. Three sets of eyes still watched every big muscle on me move. The remaining men had pleading looks on their faces and I couldn’t tell if they wanted me to put them out of their misery and do something to make them explode, or if they wanted me to prolong their agony even more. I knew some men loved to be edged to the point where they could no longer feel their balls or cock – everything down there was just some numb raw exposed nerve too overwhelmed to respond. I was still twisting metal into a spiral, but I knew if I took a step forward with my big body one, two, or all three of them would erupt like matching volcanoes. I was twice the size of each of them. My flexed gun made their heads look like something as small as bottle caps. They were each glued to watching my thick, strong fingers messing up metal as if it were just warm clay. Every now and then their eyes would move to the bulging mass of either biceps fueling the destruction. The screeching of the metal was only equaled by the heavier breathing coming from the now smaller group of admirers. If they had been dogs, their tongues would have been hanging out, saliva would have been dripping to the floor, and their tails would have been wagging hard. As it was, each man’s dick was leaking pre-cum in big white, milky globs. I had simply built up too much pressure in their balls for their cocks to not let off some steam. I looked at the cocks displayed in front of me as I continued to easily twist metal. I realized it was a good thing that I kept my jeans on, for if I had unveiled the giant log between my legs the feeling of inadequacy it would have caused in each of the men might have completely deflated their hard-ons. Men will often deny that they compare the size of their penis to others, but they’d be lying. It is something all men do. It’s like guys that make discouraging remarks about the freakishly big arms of some bodybuilder just to hide the fact that they immediately feel their own arms as fragile and tiny. I’ve found it’s true with every muscle – not just arms. I especially find men staring at my giant hands and seeing in their eyes a mixture of jealousy and a feeling of being less than. Most guys, when I’m around, put their hands behind their backs so no one near will compare the sizes. What they say about big hands is true – just look at the bulge in my jeans, which the small group of men keep doing. It’s like they’re trying to see if the thing is for real. I can’t help but feeling a little more powerful – even more than I already do – when I see that my fat log of a cock is three times, maybe four, bigger than the largest one in front of me – and that’s before I’m even hard. My jeans really don’t hide a thing, but it helps to prevent the guys from feeling too small. I’m done twisting the metal bar. It looks like one huge scary corkscrew. I think how nice it would be to have a bottle of wine large enough for this newly, man-made, specific tool. A big bottle for a big man – yeah, as it should be. I look at the three men in front of me and smile. They seem to get nervous and I realize it’s because I possibly look like I might do them harm. That is not my intent. I merely want to let them know that I am having as much fun as they are, but my smile might come across as a little devious. Showing my strength off for guys is like the most orgasmic experience I can have without actually cumming. I thump the twisted metal in my palm loudly – like a teacher might swat a ruler. It’s time to make the steel bar into nothing but a big metal blob. I grab both ends and, with great ease, quickly bring them together – the thing screaming because it has no power to say no. I keep grabbing ends and bending them together – even when the bar is now four and five layers thick. Soon, there is simply a mass of twisted metal compressed together into something the size of a milk carton. I keep squeezing and pressing until two things happen. First, my body has ballooned into a freakish morph of the hugeness I was to begin with. The strength it has taken to destroy the bar has tensed every muscle on my upper body. I am a bulging mass of perfection. Secondly, the metal is now compressed into a round mass the size of a softball. Grunts of determination let me know one of my remaining admirers is ready to give in to his impending orgasm. I look up – having previously been entranced by what my own hands had done to the metal, since I could tell it was getting easier, and find the largest of the six men with a forehead popping with veins and a body almost as tensed as mine. He is huffing and puffing loudly as he fights to keep from shooting. His arms are still behind him – not daring to grab himself since those were the rules. His cock is throbbing up and down, uncontrollably, as it openly fights the man’s desire to not explode. The poor guy – his body desperately wanted release, but he also wanted to prolong the inevitable ecstasy for many more minutes. He was struggling something awful to not let his cock win – but we all knew the ending of this story. As usual, a man’s tool controlled everything. The bellow that came from his mouth as he dumped his substantial load into a pool on the floor was deafening. He looked like some Italian fountain spewing forth. I kind of thought it would be fun to have some coins to throw into the puddle of juice and make a wish. The dude came for quite a long time. Even the remaining two guys turned to admire how much spunk the guy shot from his body. He was the true definition of a ‘gusher.’ Soon, however, his crotch continued to buck forward, but nothing came out of his cannon. He was just jerking blanks by this point. This continued for a while, however – his body still too excited to quit. The guy was just staring at my arms and convulsing, completely upright. And then he just suddenly stopped and crumpled to the floor. A pile of spent, happy manhood – dreaming of my muscle and what it could do. I dropped the destroyed metal blob on the floor and it didn’t bounce or roll away. It just hit with a heavy thud and sat there. I wished one of the remaining two guys would have tried to pick it up, so they’d see just how heavy it was, but they were too busy watching my heaving chest. Their heads bouncing up and down along with my monstrous pecs – as if in time with some unheard tune. I flexed the huge things in a roll that started from the bottom and went up. Their eyes followed suit. So, six little men came to see the muscle show and now there were just two. The remaining guys seemed in pretty good shape, like they could have a few extra bits thrown into my routine and still last until the finale. I raised my arms slowly – both men gasping as they realized what was happening. I made my biceps swell enormously as I flexed them hard. Eyes widened, tongues hung out, drool dropped to the floor, and two hard cocks leaked more pre-cum. Muscled peaks reaching for the ceiling were just such a big turn on for most men. It was mainly because these two had seen what my arms could do, but it was also because the sight of huge, hard, bulging arms was so synonymous with manliness. I had the kind of guns that made shirtsleeves panic and even heavy material look really scared. I had been doing an unscientific study on what the connection between massive guns and hard dicks must be. The two little ones in front of me had followed the pattern of my observations with perfection. My flexed arms made them whimper like dogs waiting for a treat. Seeing huge biceps caused a need to touch themselves even more than when I was destroying metal. There was just something about giant flexed peaks that made normal, rational men become completely submissive and desperately want to grope, kiss, lick, and feel the hardness. My entire colossal body enthralled them, but it was my arms that made them go mad the most. I, of course, got off on it even more than them. I could see how their small, stick-like limbs were but a fraction of the size of mine. That more-than-obvious size difference – that show of tremendous power even when just standing in front of them and not flexing – was enough to make my balls ache with a need to dominate them. And I could dominate without touching them or saying a word – that was the cool thing. My size put them in their rightful place – it was that simple. They had to turn their heads upward to look at me and their gaze could not take in all of my wide expanse unless they turned their heads side to side. Being this immense demanded submission without a need for rough talk or physical intimidation. They metaphorically handed over their lunch money simply because they couldn’t see my face over the thickness of my pecs if they had been standing close to me. I showed off purely by being, just by standing there – and that gave me much pleasure. My big guns were still flexed and the guys were still whimpering. I dropped my arms and shook them out a little, just to let the un-tensed hard thickness bounce a little. Eyes never left my giant mounds. These two fellas were doing quite well, I was impressed. Their cocks were loaded and ready for firing, but both men were ready for the next part of my show. I knew we were about to enter the failsafe part of the evening. No man had ever made it through the next phase without losing total control of his body. I knew the limitations of my admirers. I knew how to make a cock spew even if its owner didn’t. I was the master of making balls offer me their thick adoring juice even if a guy fully intended to hold it all in. This body was built for milking dudes completely – emptying them until their eyes screamed ‘thank you’ in response to the pleasure I bestowed. I took a few steps forward. As I did, I reached up with both hands and pinched my already hard nubs, poking deliciously out like thick sausages. Daddy needed some loving. It was time for them to physically become part of the act. I knew, more than likely, the thrill for me would be short-lived. Most men couldn’t last very long once they actually came in contact with what they’d been worshipping from a distance for so long. To look at enormous muscle was one thing, but to feel it – to know how hard and thick it was on an extremely personal level – became too much for even most veteran muscle worshippers. I continued to twist my nipples hard as I towered over the two men – having to lean my head forward a little to look at them. Neither guy had grabbed his cock so far – usually me bringing my body this close made a guy finally give up and start pounding his meat for release. There was just something about the heat, the aroma, the beast-like presence my body gave off when a guy was close to it. I could sneak up behind a guy, quietly, and within seconds – if not instantly – he was aware that something gigantic and over-the-top masculine had suddenly moved close. It’s like your body knowing when a dark cloud takes away the sun for a few seconds or when you stand near a skyscraper and sense how tall it really is. My size permeated a room like an elephant had just entered. Both men seemed to realize what I was about to offer. Their faces were full of gratitude, lust, and sheer awe-struck fear from my immense bulk being this close to them. I pinched harder and pulled my nips outward – stretching them, painfully, just to offer a little more warmth to the nubs as I let go. I wrapped my big hands around the back of their smaller-than-my-palms heads and pulled them forward. Lips parted, breathing ceased, tongues came out, and faces lit up like Christmas trees as my areolas inched toward them. I was a king bestowing a huge reward to two peasants. I was the candy maker offering the entire warehouse full of treats to two children. I was the muscle god offering a taste of his immensity to his adoring worshippers. The entire reason I didn’t offer bodily contact early on in the show was reinforced as soon as mouths latched onto my humongous pecs. It proved to be instantly too much for one of my remaining fans. His face had not expected my muscle to feel like concrete. He had also not expected to immediately feel so small and weak. I was simply too enormous to take when a guy got this close. The dude’s hands pressed against my cobblestoned abs – his first mistake. His eyes looked upward over the massive ballooning of my pec and beheld the furry stubble across the bottom of my face. And his lips, the doors of breath, sucked in air as the tight marble-like skin re-emphasized what he already knew – I was powerful beyond his wildest imagination. I was Superman and he was the adoring Jimmy Olsen – small, weak, unable to fully grasp the strength of the being in front of him. The realization that I had worked out for many years to build the kind of body that could destroy baseball bats and metal bars so easily became complete, fully understood, and much more of a known fact as soon as his lips and hands met my body. My obvious power made him instantly feel weak and small, but, at the same time, it released a raging storm of emotion and jubilation within him. He pushed his hard cock against my bulging, rock-like thigh and rubbed ever-so-slightly against my tight jeans. That was all she wrote for him. Hot, gooey, dense cum jetted from his dickhead and covered my giant thigh – making it look like someone had poured a gallon of cream down my leg. Since he was basically pressed up against my immovable body, the guy didn’t flop around that much as he ejaculated. His body just pushed into mine harder and harder as he came – making him shoot even more as he realized I didn’t move and my muscles didn’t even indent a little where he pounded me. It was like light paper meeting concrete – it was easy to see which would bounce away. I felt his body banging against me, but it was the same annoying feeling a fly might cause. I smiled down at him over my enormous pec. I wanted his last thoughts before sleep to be my handsome face and my hard body. Suddenly, he stopped. His eyes stayed open, his mouth was still latched on to my nip, and he remained upright. I could tell, however, that he was out like a light. He had gone to muscle heaven with the four other guys on the floor. Meanwhile, my last admirer was still sucking away on my other nipple, like a baby that’s just woken up from a long night and is hungry like a wolf. I reached up and put my hand on the back of the head of the guy that was passed out. I squeezed a little and pulled back, loving the popping sound as his mouth left my pec. I moved my arm out, so the dude was positioned over two of the other guys and then I let go. He fell slowly down onto the pile of men, immediately curling up, happily. And now we were down to just one muscle worshipper. I could tell he was a little firecracker – built like a fireplug, short and stocky. He was actually standing on his tip-toes so his mouth could reach my nipple. I put an arm around his body and lifted him up, so he didn’t have to stretch so much. He moaned in appreciation without taking his mouth away. The guy’s hands caressed and punched my abs as he sucked away. He knew that touching me was fair game – now that I had latched his mouth onto my pec. He had his eyes tightly closed and I could tell he was willing himself to not spew any time soon. It was amazing that he could feel so much of my hard-muscled body and not lose control. I was duly impressed. I’m sure he realized I could make him squirt any time I wanted to, but we both wanted this to last. I’m sure he was very grateful that I was allowing things to go on his body’s timeline. How could I not, I was loving the fact that he could hold out this long. It was amazing that I knew so much about this guy and, yet, we never exchanged a word. I could just easily sense all that he was thinking and feeling. He was loving the fact that I was holding his body against mine – with his feet off the ground. He was over the moon excited about getting to suck on my hairy, thick nipple. And finally, even though he still didn’t touch himself, he could rub his hard cock against my giant muscled thigh to edge himself on even more. Now that it was just one guy, my immense body seemed to dwarf him even much more than it really did. The dude looked tiny and so breakable surrounded by my big arm. I squeezed him tightly, just to make sure he was real and not some kind of large doll. He moaned in response and my cock thickened as I marveled at how small he looked compared to just my biceps. He was still sucking away, as if that was the only way he could get his sustenance. I compressed my big gun again – loving how the action automatically caused the same response in the guy, a big moan every single time. I felt his little hard-on rubbing up and down against my tensed thigh, with its striations, veins, and hardness. His fists kept smacking into my abs every now and then, a loud noise echoing through the room. I felt the punches, but they seemed more like child’s play than a grown man hitting me. I could tell this last dude was a strength pig. He got off on my body’s ability to withstand him belting me. I knew he loved the muscles, but he loved what they could do a lot more. That made me like him the most. I was a strength pig, too. Only, I was the one with the power. I was the one getting off on the fact that my strength made this guy crazy – crazy enough to throw punches until his knuckles were bruised. And through it all, he just kept on sucking on my teat like it was the fountain of youth and he was nearing one-hundred years of age. It was crazy. The dude was clearly a lot older than me. That should have made him the boss, the dominant one, the leader – but I was simply three times his size and made him forfeit any claim of being in charge. He yielded his power to the muscle boy who was easily holding him in the air. He would have sensed the alpha-ness in me even if I had been in the next room. My size and bulk seemed to fill any void long before I arrived. It’s as if the ground and walls shook as I moved. I was very much aware of how my massiveness caused rooms to feel claustrophobic and how people gave me a wider berth when I approached. It was as if they were all little row-boats and I was an ocean liner in the same harbor. It was important to stay out of my path . . . or my wake. I looked at his tiny hand pressed against the pec he wasn’t sucking on – taking a break from punches. My own hand could cover his two or three times. That realization thrilled me very much and I squeezed his body tighter and longer than before. His moan lasted until I lessened the hug. And, still, the guy slurped loudly at my pec. My nipple registered pleasure, which pulsed down to my dick, as well. The crotch of my jeans was getting tight as I started hardening huge. I contemplated freaking the guy out by undoing my pants and letting my monster cock free, but I quickly realized he wouldn’t have left my pec long enough to notice my enormous dong. He was too busy trying to somehow suck some of my DNA into his body – so he might grow a little. I already radiated so much testosterone that I knew it emboldened him and made him much braver in his actions – hence the earlier pounding of his fist into my abs. It’s like some of my masculinity could be breathed in by him just from being so near. I got off on being so much bigger than the man, there was no secret to that. But I also loved how my size made him lose control. I bet he was some kind of corporate boss, used to ordering men around and expecting everyone to jump any time he told them to. But in this room, he was a little puppy submitting to the alpha who toyed with him easily. I could make him cower if I wanted to – with nothing more than a growl and an intense flex of my huge body. Knowing that fact was good enough, though. I didn’t need to do it. I would let the man have as much fun as he wanted – he deserved it. All of the men did. I looked over at the five still happily in slumber-mode on the floor. Everyone in this room was happy, especially me. Soon I would have caused six explosive orgasms – making a group of men happy beyond their wildest dreams. That’s what I was made to do. That’s why I had pumped enough iron over the years to probably have moved a small mountain. I made muscle fantasies come true. I also got off by showing off. I’d certainly be the seventh orgasm of the night – that was for sure. And I’d make sure to cover them with my hot, thick, fire-hose-like spray so when they woke up they would realize the big man had exploded, too. That would make them hard again, instantly. They would also be upset that they had missed it. All of this was yet to come, however, for I still had a guy presently latched onto my nipple – still sucking like there wouldn’t be a tomorrow. I was pretty sure his jaw must have been pretty sore by this point, but it was clear he had no intention of stopping. I appreciated a guy that could make my man-tits feel good. I also got the pleasurable feeling that this dude’s sucking skills would be amazing somewhere else, too. As great as that sounded, however, we were not here for my benefit – although that was always a by-product of all that I did. I was here to do one thing and do it well – get this guy to have an explosive, mind-blowing orgasm. I knew exactly what my little strength pig needed to get him off. He was definitely into my power, but he had held out through the bat and the metal bar. I instinctively knew what that meant. He needed my next display to include him. He needed to be on the receiving end of whatever it was I did to show off what my huge body could do. He wanted to be fully dominated and feel powerless. He needed me to remind him that someone as enormous as I could easily take care of someone like him – in any way I wanted. He really dreamed of being twisted like the bar of metal or cracked apart like the bat, but we both knew I wouldn’t do that. Besides not being into that kind of rough stuff, I was already hoping this little guy would be a repeat fan. I had a feeling the more we got to know each other the longer he’d be able to hold out and that was always fun. The longer the edging, the bigger the explosion was my motto. Some of my greatest online reviews mentioned how I caused the most intense ejaculations guys had ever experienced. That was the best compliment. I moved my arm away from the guy and he started to slide down my hard body – his mouth staying connected to my pec as long as it could. I was beginning to think he was suctioned on there for good, but he finally dropped to the floor and he looked up at me with the most disappointed face I had ever seen. I simply smiled at him with a look that said everything I wanted to and more. I was smiling, but it wasn’t a friendly smile – it was more of a grin that told the guy he was now my plaything. If it made him nervous at all, his joyous anticipation of what was about to come hid it completely. He realized the time for his orgasm had arrived. The muscled monster in front of him had deemed it so and there was nothing he could do to stop it. I moved toward him, inhaling deeply to expand my chest out even further – pressing my pecs into him. I continued to move, forcing him to step backwards as I turned us both and finally pinned him between my chest and the wall. I pressed in – causing him to moan louder than he ever had before. He couldn’t have escaped even if he wanted to. I tensed my body – just to show him how weak and fragile the wall behind him truly was. He got the message and, again, moaned appropriately. After a few seconds of flattening him like a pancake I stepped back from the wall. I knew exactly what he wanted – what would make him explode. He had given me permission – in his eyes, in his moans, and in his fist pounding appreciation of my strength. He actually begged me to cause his enormous release with dominating power that emphasized my strength as it reminded him of his own weakness. I was only a dominator when I was begged for it. I placed my huge hand around his small neck, so delicate. My v-shaped grip made him moan with so much pleasure that I actually leaked some pre-cum, myself. That was a first. My hand almost reached completely around him. I pressed forward and lifted at the same time – carefully, slowly, and deliberately. His face was full of gratitude, pleasure, and anticipation of what I was about to cause in his body. This man craved release, but not just release through orgasm. He wanted me to take away his need to control everything. He wanted to give up being the boss completely. He wanted me to be so totally in charge of the moment that he’d become insignificant . . . no one begging him for answers, directions, or needing him to make decisions. He wanted the only thing in the world that existed to be my strength . . . my power. His eyes pleaded with me to make him weak. I had never felt so powerful. I had never felt so huge. I had never known such joy – his and mine. He knew how easy this was going to be for me. I lifted his body off the ground, pressing him against the wall as he moved upward. He reached with his small hands to hold onto my wrist, struggling uselessly to try and pry my fingers from his neck. We both knew he was faking and we both knew he was in no real danger, I could drop him any time I wanted. But the thrill of the power in my one arm was still there – still rendering him defenseless. His addiction to being in control and powerful was suddenly thrown out the window as the muscleman in front of him reduced him nothing more than a useless sack in his huge hand. The threat of true damage was always there. I had his body as high as my chest when his cock started to gush his appreciation. I had never wanted a man to ejaculate so much to my strength as I did at this moment. He stared at me with so much joy and incredible gratitude as he shot hot, milky juice all over my body - I almost felt like crying. I had never known such pleasure . . . such dominance. I stopped lifting him when he was even with my face. His body emptied all the pent-up pressure of the last few hours . . . or was it years. Finally, his body was finished . . . completely spent. I squeezed his neck a little tighter, to wring out a few more drops from his dick. And yet, his eyes stared at me. And yet, he smiled. He did not pass out – another first for me. I lowered his shaky body to the floor and kept my hand at his chest, so he wouldn’t fall to the floor. He looked everywhere – at my huge biceps, my bewildered face, my heaving chest, and deep into my eyes. I realized he had never had an experience like this . . . but, if I were being completely honest, neither had I. He wasn’t unconscious. He wasn’t so depleted that he was asleep. And he was still fully hard. It was then that I noticed his gorgeous dark hair with flecks of silver strewn throughout. I also noticed his cobalt blue eyes – like some lagoon that beckoned me to swim nude. It’s also when I saw that he was, indeed, a short, muscled fireplug – much more fit than I had been aware of, at first. He was different from my other admirers – still sound asleep on the floor. This guy was the real deal – a true muscle worshipper who could go the distance with me. There was no telling what he’d encourage me to do in a private session – bend bars tightly around his body, toss him across the room, smash him breathless against the wall with my huge muscles, squeeze him so hard that he was forced to shoot his load just from my hug . . . these were all things that popped into my head as I stared at the grateful man. I was so turned on by all that had just happened I was not fully aware of the fact that the man had unzipped my pants and tugged them down, slightly – the things needing a lot stronger pulling to get over my huge thighs. That was not his goal, however. He just wanted to release my huge throbbing cock, which he did and immediately started pumping it with his small, but very strong, hand. My head tilted back a little, my eyelids closed slightly, and I moaned loudly from his groping. So many of my rules were being broken in this moment, but I didn’t care. This muscled plug of a man – who had let me dominate him in such a thrilling way – wanted to give me something in return. I could tell he also wanted to be bathed in my hot juice. He wanted to have muscle man-jizz rain down all over him. I could tell he had been pleasantly surprised and a little taken aback by the size of my cock. There had been only a slight hesitation, though, as his hand realized it wouldn’t be able to fit completely around the thing. He’d simply have to squeeze harder, which he did. In return, I braced my hands against the wall above his head. I was so incredibly jacked by this time – in so many ways – I decided to please him even more, but at the same time I would be satisfied, too. I pressed my crotch into him – hard. It shoved his body against the wall. His hand pulled away from my cock – both to brace himself against the wall, but also because he knew what was coming. I started thrusting my huge cock against his body – his stomach, his own crotch, his chest – pushing against him hard. I was going to use him the same way a horny teenager might use a pillow to get off. Dry humping his tight body immediately made my juices boil even more within my huge frame. I shoved forward with my dick and he banged against the wall. His moans of pleasure were even louder than mine. I bent my knees slightly and pressed into him at the same time. When I straightened my legs, his feet came off the floor – carried into the air briefly by the power of my hard dick’s thrusting. I looked down at the man and smiled at him being cock-handled so easily. It was magnificent and he was loving every second of it. For the first time in my life, I realized I was completely out of control. I wanted to see his body flop against the wall more, so I humped my cock into him with great abandon. I also knew I couldn’t have stopped my impending orgasm even if my life had depended on it. Suddenly, I smashed my crotch against the dude, pinning him tightly against the wall. I pressed in hard, knowing it made my bubbled ass bulge with tightened muscle. The dude reached around to grab my cheeks and he gasped at their hardness. I then growled deeply and released a river of semen, which actually flowed upward over the small guy’s torso. I pushed into him harder with each gush of my milky man-honey. I knew the dude was going to have some bruises tomorrow, but I also knew he would get hard every time he looked at them. Soon, it was like someone had squirted a gallon of masculine super glue between our bodies. There was a sticky mess sealing us and I continued to smash his body against the wall. As I finally pulled away, he came with me – the drying semen almost cementing us together. He was thankful to be able to finally take deep breaths again – having been compacted and flattened by my huge body. It took us both a few minutes to calm ourselves down and even longer for us to pull our skin apart. He had his hands on my chest, running his thumbs across my large jutting nipples and staring up into my face. I looked back at him, smiling – satisfied beyond what I had ever known before and sensing, deep in my being, that he felt the same. Silently, I brought my face down to his and we kissed. The biggest rule being broken. It was a long, passionate, hard, knowing kiss – that kept us both excited and already wanting much more. I finally pulled my face away from his and stared at him. He slowly nodded – aware of all I conveyed without even saying a word. I reached down, wrapped a hand around his body, and lifted him into the air. We both glanced at his fellow worshippers – still sound asleep on the floor – and then I carried my new little special muscle worshipper from the room. 37 7 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
michaeldavid Posted May 3, 2020 Share Posted May 3, 2020 Dude. For real. You are my writing hero. Thanks for always inspiring me. 1 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
liftme Posted May 3, 2020 Share Posted May 3, 2020 Oh jeezis LB. You certainly made the anticipation of waiting well worth it. You really know how to keep a guy hard. Thanks 1 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
boardman Posted May 3, 2020 Share Posted May 3, 2020 Another incredibly hot story! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
gingy123 Posted May 11, 2020 Share Posted May 11, 2020 So very very hot! I hope this gets a continuation LB! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Jtchef2 Posted May 12, 2020 Share Posted May 12, 2020 Absolutely amazing! I love this story 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
lazer0100 Posted August 9, 2020 Share Posted August 9, 2020 amazing story as always, thanks!! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mainesteve Posted August 20, 2020 Share Posted August 20, 2020 Damn! That was awesome! I'm usually hesitant to read dominance-type stories, but this is ... I can't even think of words to express. I don't mean to say "Dominance done right" as that would be dismissive of other styles. Dominance through action and presence as opposed to the common (not here, that i've seen at least) dominance through belittling speech. Great! 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
JackAms Posted February 20, 2021 Share Posted February 20, 2021 What an excellent story Londonboy! Such dept and knowledge of the muscle craving man, and then so well written. Just super! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wolf9 Posted July 17, 2021 Share Posted July 17, 2021 Your description of the baseball bat snapping in half got me shivering with excitement, @londonboy! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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