m/m Destruction Power (finale written July 12)

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This is based on a role play I had - - I only deserve half the credit but I'll take all the blame if you deliver it with a flex...

He is known as a dangerous hit man. I think I see muscle and power under the leather jacket, but it's so big I can't imagine someone actually fills it with just muscle. He must be thick with a 'protective layer' over the muscles that were primed a decade ago. I'll have to think of a way to talk him out of that jacket and see for myself. I understand he is usually paid for his services by billionaires. Fat, ugly older men lusting for his body - but he only sells death. Believe me, I've checked. I'm no billionaire, but I have nice clothes, a great car and a very expensive watch that shows both taste and affluence. I'm sure he won't be impressed as he is big enough to take what he wants even if it isn't a toned body. Weight and height still equal control in most situations. But I'm the kind of handsome that is cute. I can turn as many men with my looks as he can with his size. I've got to try if he can't be bought...

I feel like he keeps looking at me. Am I piquing his interest? Nah - he looks more like a thug wanting to hustle my watch off of me. I'm drawn back to the size of that jacket as it spreads and creaks against his back. Quite a few beasts must have given their pelts for that thing. One moment I think I can see his is really muscular, the next I think it's a trick of height, thickness, leather and positioning. Either way he is good looking enough to try. A slightly receding hairline which shows maturity. I get so tired of 'kids' that think they're the shit. Nice skin, but not unaffected by time and weather and maybe even some smiles. 

Oh, God - he just looked at me and gave me one of those smiles. He looked squarely at me, raised his drink (a cocktail, mind you, not some stupid cheap beer) and fucking smiled. He's standing up. Definitely a solid man. Perhaps six two or better? Gotta be tipping over 260. And now that he has unfolded from his small table, there's clearly no belly, so maybe he IS jacked?!!

"It's really hot in here, and you are under the only air conditioner. May I?" He was indicating his jacket and the chair at my table. He didn't wait for a response to either. He just peeled it off. None of this slow, teasing crap. He just stripped out of the jacket, gave a little bunch of his muscles like feeling free, sat quickly and pulled his chair closer. Looked me in the eye. And then pulled closer again so our thighs touched and I had to turn sideways.

It happened so quickly I could hardly process. He wasn't as tall as I thought. There were boots. That made the mass more impressive. The t-shirt certainly clung. I expected a roid gut but didn't see it. This was what a real life Thor or Hercules must feel like up close. Only very real. And so close.

"Yeah, I'm big."

I was excited before, but mister show off without showing off found a particular button of mine. Proximity. Shit - I hate being so easy a mark. 

"I believe you are looking for me. Hired me for a job, correct?" He picked up a decent sized stone used on the table as a paper weight for the menus. He just cracked it with a squeeze and dropped the pieces in front of me, put his forearms on the table, which creaked under the weight as he leaned on it, indicating the pieces. "That is what you buy. Destruction power."

"That doesn't impress me Jimbo, or Butch, or whatever your name is. If you don't want to do as you're told, we have no business to discuss," I say while purposely keeping my eyes on him rather than the broken rock OR his corded forearms he obviously wanted seen. "Choose to stay and obey or walk away now."

He looked at me deeply, kind of scrunched his nose and tilted his head with a look of incredulity that turned to a smirk that landed in pursed lips and a nod of OK.He  put his arm around me and pulled me even closer. I kept looking forward. He came terrifically close to my ear and whispered, "I'm staying. You get one painful death of the societal asshole of your choice for your fee. And my name is Mark. Are you scared I might snuff you instead, little man?"

"Welcome to a night you might really enjoy, Mark. I'm Max. I'm not a bit afraid of you near me. I like the heat you emanate and I'm very attracted to well-built men. But I didn't hire you because I want to slather you with compliments or act like a size queen. I have much better ideas than that."

I know he wants to show off. I know he likes o hurt people that deserve it. And I'm dick-hardingly afraid he might like doing it to anyone he chooses, too. A cash payment through a surrogate already happened, so what would he care if I disappeared. 

"See that guy over there at the end of the bar? He enjoys touching his nieces after his workouts. He makes them do things no woman should have o do unless she chooses. He fancies himself a pretty big man and doesn't seem o care if folks know. He beat the hell out of his brother when he confronted him about it. I hired you to make an impression on him. Literally. Leave a mark he can't erase."

He pulled from me mid description and created space between us and the table as though he wouldn't wait for me to finish. "Dead or alive?"

I stand and straddle him in the space he created. He doesn't flinch. I take his face in my hands and turn him from the asshole to look at me. "I want his straight, abusive ass to fear you and still cum because he wants you. Impress me, Mark." I move to kiss him, but instead, pull his attention deeper into me through his eyes and just give him a wink - - then pull my scruff across his face as I move in to his ear and whisper, "I'm going to make YOU cum before the night is over. But if you refer to me as anything but an equal again, I'll kill you."

I stand up and give my hand to pull him up. He takes it and lets me help. He smiles at my boldness, winks back, rolls his shoulders with a tiny pec bounce and flex. He heads to the end of the bar.

The man there sees me as he gulps another beer. Mark exchanges a few quiet words with the man. I couldn't make them out. Mark wraps his arm around the fucker's shoulder and gives him a squeeze. I see the lowlife recoil at being embraced and then watch him try to release himself and then wince in pain. He goes pale as he looks up at me as he was certainly told to do. Mark moves him from his chair without releasing the hold and brings him to my table. People around the bar don't seem to notice, but I see his feet barely touch the ground. He is slammed into the bench along the wall across from me.

"This is my boss, Max. He says you're a very bad guy, friend. Why don't we start with a nice, heartfelt apology, asshole?" Mark said this almost cheerily, with encouragement in his voice. 

The target tries to jump free of the the table. I think he might make it past Mark, but Mark was letting him think he had an out. Mark uses one arm to contain the escape, let's him struggle and even punch him right in the face twice and then just opens his paw and shoves the man back down. He touches his face to make sure there is no blood and all the while the smaller man is staring at Mark's arm. I notice he's kind of keeping his own hands on the gigantic arm. Not a direct fondle, but more of a check of size and ability. But he is afraid and impressed at once. He makes one more pull on that arm with all his force, sure he's going to move it and Mark just takes the big, oak table with his free hand and pins the punk against the wall. It takes his breath and he releases his grip and nearly screams, "Who are you!? What do you want from me!?"

Mark puts his arm on the table and flexes it. The dude instantly shuts up and looks at the sinews or the biceps and the impossible size of the triceps. That isn't an arm. It is an entity. The abuser stares slack-jawed. Mark flexes and relaxes it a few times, moves a little closer and opens for a gape of the forearm, flexing it into more width than a bowling ball. He slides closer to the man and clenches his fist which his admirer cannot avoid looking at. He then pulls slowly into one more biceps pose, lifts his elbow from the table so it brings the arm right under the man's nose. He tries to look away but is only able for a fraction of a second. Mark moves his peak to touch the tip of the man's nose. After staying there for longer than even I felt comfortable - with the inferior man panting and trying to pull his head back further, Mark simply said, "Look," and he flexed like he hadn't actually been flexing before. The head split right under the man's nose and grew so much it pushed his nose up. It made him inhale and I believe the pheromones from Mark's underarm hit. The man looked dizzy.

I realized his arms were pinned by the table. He was STRAINING to touch the prize now. He began to mumble words like amazing and big and huge and hard and good and such. 

Mark turns to look at me while leaving his arm in place. He starts to push backward like he's doing a rear deltoid fly and I see he's really putting pressure on the man's head. "This dick has a weak brain. He's easy to control. You, however, have power Max. I can tell you are turned on by me and you can handle yourself in my presence." Mark took his free hand and pulled the table back from nearly slicing the man in half and his arms immediately flew up to the arm. He was both flailing to end the cranial pressure and groping the very tool being used to punish him.

Suddenly, Mark let him go and said, "I told you to apologize to my master."

The perpetrator gained quick confidence from the air in his lungs and said, "The fuck I will," and swiftly lifted an arm to swing at me. Mark grabbed his hand before he swung and simply shook his head as they locked eyes. The man so angry and Mark so calm. 

"Wrong answer." Mark squeezed and breaks the mans hand. He slides over fast and throws and arm around him and catches his mouth just as a scream of pain started to escape. It ended up sounding like a big laugh to others, I bet. The dude looked at me with his eyes full of terror and then bit Mark's hand. 

Instead of pulling away or calling out or becoming rougher, Mark gritted his teeth and moved his hand from the man's mouth to his forehead to pull his head back to the wall. He let his own blood drip down the man's forehead and just left him huffing in anger, pain and frustration.

"I'll ask just one last time." The lesser man looks up at Mark with tears in his eyes. I start to wonder if I should have hired Mark for this. I mean, I'm not really into pain, but he seems to be. Both giving and receiving. It seems second nature. I get lost for a moment thinking where he must have come from? I quickly return to the moment remembering he said master. That's when I realized my pants were wet with pre-cum. I get even more excited that he seems impressed with my mental control. Perhaps I can please him? I suddenly make a move because I want Mark's attention.

"He's not going to apologize for shit, " I say. 

"Damn...right...mother...fucker," he manages to gasp out softly but with defiance. 

I see Mark's eyes go wide. "Are you calling him that, or me, little man?"

"You're...both...pro...bably...homos. Big...asshole...small dick." A pause as he tries to free his head. "Prove....me other...wise."

That's it. Yes, I'm happily bisexual, but who wouldn't be attracted to the gravity of a specimen like this, I'm thinking. And he just showed he is VERY desirous to see more of Mark.

"The best part of this moment, prick, is you will both pay for your crimes against decency and manhood, and the last thing you'll remember before you die is how this man - this incredible mountain of a man - made you cum in lust without your ability to resist. You will want him, fear him and obey him and hate him before the night is over. He will enjoy it and you will orgasm in awe and respect. Then he'll snuff the life out of you...mother fucker."

I had moved close to his face and nearly whispered the last two words and spat in his face. He started to react violently and I see Mark move lightening quickly and stop his forward momentum by his throat. Holding him back while he swings at us both - connecting with Mark and being prevented from doing so to me - Mark leans across the table in front of him and I rise up to meet him and we kiss right in front of him. 

"This is going to be fun," Mark declares.


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 Excellent work, it will be great to see where you take the story. 

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More please

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Mark again moved more swiftly than I expected. He had the dick up from and bills for the drinks on the table and was headed to the door before I knew he had decided to move. It was sheer power and agility to move another man's mass that way. It looked like the two of them were buddies with arms over each other's shoulders kind of stumbling out. In actuality, Mark was squeezing his upper torso so hard across his shoulders he was short of breath and couldn't cry out.  

Outside, I clicked to unlock my Lamborghini and Mark tossed the sod into the cramped back. It is a two door and really only meant for two humans. Mark stuffed himself inside and slammed his chair all the way back catching the man off guard and pinching a toe. He screams as I'm climbing in and a big mitt flies past my head and punches the backseat occupant so hard the nose is broken and he shuts up. He cups his nose and face and just glares but knows to be quiet. 

"Don't get any blood in Max's car, shit head, or I'll rip your dick off," Mark almost grumbled. He looked at me as I start the car and he just looks to his torso. He grabs a wad of t-shirt with one hand and rips the fabric clean from his body. Like he pulled a tissue from his pocket. He sees a little fabric caught in the magnificent chest hair, bunches the pecs to see it better and uses the shirt to wipe them away before tossing it into the back. "Use this."

I watch him take it in the mirror. Mark is paying no mind. At the same moment I put the car in gear, Mark's paw lands on my thigh and I watch the straight man in the back taking a huge whiff of the shirt. Those three things - the car's power reacting to my gear shift, the potential flowing through Mark's hand into my leg and the thought of smelling that shirt made me hit the gas hard - - and off we went. Varying sized smiles on every face.

We arrived at my warehouse property quickly and without further incident. Mark did lift his arm at one point and put it behind my head. It went all the way to the door. It was awkward for me as it invaded my space but also delightful to feel near. I gave an air of nonchalance. In the back, however, I watched our captive be amazed as Mark flexed his tris several times. I couldn't see it, but I could feel the movement. And the man moved in so close to try and get a bit of scent from the underarm. I swear his nose must have brushed the big man's detls. The two ridiculously large guards at the gate almost waved us straight through. Only at the last moment did the light reveal the slab beside me and I felt the Bretts collective jealousy. Yes - they are both named Brett and one is more handsome and deadly than the other. I had a threesome with those boys once that made us men, but that's for another narrative. Actually, I kind of snapped at them because I couldn't hardly wait. I'll have to make up for that. In fact - perhaps I'll have the Brett's hold down my musclebound hire for the night after he's done his work and gotten me so hot I have to be the first top in a flip fuck. I get the impression he won't be into that - so we'll make him. The Bretts will be happy before the night is over. 

Before I knew it, we were entering the building. The broken figure from the backseat didn't need much persuading. He almost followed Mark without intimidation from him. I sensed he was really taken by the man's musk. I had sensed it a bit in the car, but I hadn't taken a direct hit...yet. I intended to. Inside the cavernous space was a chair in the middle under an ominous, single cone of light, a forklift and a bulldozer fill one wall and a few trucks line the other side.

"Quite dramatic," Mark states with an air of appreciation, shoving the man into the chair and ripping the shirt from his hands. As he starts to protest, the big guy rips the man's shirt from him as easily as he did his own and wads it up and shoves it in the abuser's mouth. The other man whimpered and cried out with renewed objection and Mark slapped him REALLY hard, but used his other hand to keep him in the chair. Grabbing his hair and yanking back, he pulled the cotton from the man's mouth and spat right into the man's open mouth and shoved the rags back in the sputtering throat. "Shit - - look at this lighting you little prick. Look what it does for this body."

Mark stepped back to a perfect angle for both me and the chair and swung his arms across his torso and up into a Schwarzenegger one biceps other arm straight while looking down the line pose. He was in the exact spot to make the light dance off his body. It looks like he'd conjured up the tiniest sheen of sweat to make the light sparkle and show off every curve. It was spectacular and immediate and was over before I knew it. I don't even know what I thought of it all as it was too much and too short. I just knew I wanted more.

"And look at you, all pathetic with your shirt off." Mark stepped forward and gave the man a kick the way you see a cop on TV try to open a locked door. Of course, this dude was toppled and rolled from the chair. Mark grabbed the chair, smashed it on the floor as he closed the gab between them and then knelt over him, trapping him below expertly using the thick, broken wooden leg to secure the man's neck. But not in the traditional way with the middle of a lever. He just shoved the broken, raw edge into the man's esophagus just this side of killing him. The man squirmed for his life and started flailing and swinging every limb he could. It looked like this would be over very quickly. He put both hands on the chair leg at this throat and couldn't budge it being held by Mark's one hand. The captive rained not completely amateur blows across Mark's body. After the man slowed after a bit, Mark just said, "I'm only going to let you up if you worship my pecs."

"I'll take the job even if it means the torture," I thought. Mark leaned back and freed the man's neck, snapping the leg in two right in front of his face and then tossing the pieces aside. He rolled his shoulders back to bring maximum tit meat forward and flexed them hard with his arms by his sides. He looked up at me as I'd moved directly into his line of sight. The lump under him didn't move, but didn't protest. He was almost as transfixed as I was. But he didn't move to touch Mark. 

Mark then winked at me and began to roll the pecs together. Bottom to top. Multiple times. He slowly looked down to make new eye contact and when the man was caught ogling, he looked away but also bucked his hips a bit, I thought. Mark calmly took the man's jaw in hand and turned his head back despite protestation. As the man saw the torso again, Mark slapped him hard again and said, "Worship, bitch."

The man recovered despite a fresh bleed of the nose. He looked up at Mark with what must surely have been his last ounce of defiance because this time he bucked his hips to make contact with the muscle man for sure! He moved his arms slowly into a position that I found strange for groping and then hauled off and hit Mark in the face with a not untrained one-two. 

Mark hardly reacted though they had been solid connections. I expected him to go ballistic, but he just reached down as the man flinched for the worst. Instead, Mark wiped his palm across the dude's face and then took the fresh blood and smeared it across his own pecs. I saw him take the man's nipples freshly coated and pinch them to the point the man arched his back off the floor. In pleasure or pain I couldn't tell. As he arched and gave a deep guttural cry, his arms had to go somewhere for leverage. They landed on the pecs of the beast. 

The man below stopped yelling as Mark let go of his nipples. There was a moment of silence and of dread and of anticipation. What would happen next?

The punk seemed to give in. He explored those striated, hairy pecs and Mark rolled them again - - from top to bottom! I've never seen that. Then the man tried the same trick and gripped Mark's nipples for all he was worth. Mark threw his head back and bellowed a "yes!" This seemed to snap the man out of it and he let go.

Mark looked enraged and grabbed the man's hands to put them back and stated firmly, "work my nips or I break your rib cage," and he tightened his knees dramatically. His prey yelped and quickly groped for the muscle shelf to find the nipples as instructed. Mark grabbed the hands and ran them all over his own pecs at his leisure. 

Suddenly, the man seemed to loose ability to shout and I heard a crack. Mark had squeezed just enough for one rib to break. The man nearly lost consciousness and Mark continued to use the man's hands in the interim. As he came back to full awareness, the man started pleading through shortened breaths, "Please, please. I'll do anything. Please stop."

"Your dick is telling me not to stop, asshole," Mark replied pinning the man's arms on the floor above his head and moving his mass in close. "Suck my pecs."

The man did as he was told. Mark lifted his butt up to get closer and the man rose up to try and make contact again with his crotch. 

"Tell Max what he wants to hear and I'll give you what you want, little man."

Now here I was impressed more than i thought possible. The man titled his head all the way up to look at me standing at his twelve o'clock. He strained his waist to try and get to Mark again - he was basically humping the air now. He looked at me and said, "I'm sorry. I just love getting off. I shouldn't have hurt the unwilling."

Then, he looked back to Mark and very quietly, with their mouths a breath apart, said, "I'm sorry. I just love getting off. Please don't hurt the unwilling."

Mark looked at me, smiled, looked down and moved in for a kiss. The man was SO ready for it and would have exploded for sure with all the mass over him, the defeat he'd felt, the big arms holding him down with those massive pecs near his face and - - of course, the scent of Mark's pits RIGHT there...he was ready.

But instead, Mark head butted him! Just hard enough to daze him. In an instant, (man the guy was fast), he had the weakling up by the throat, off the cement floor and over to the wall. I had to jump out of the way. I then realized Mark was purposely getting very close to me. I wasn't sure I liked all this but he definitely did.

He ripped his pants off to expose a matching cock. He held the man against the wall as he was coming around again while he made the pants disappear. He turned and kissed me hard and said, "Thank you for a fun night," and pushed hard enough to crack a few more ribs - maybe a sternum. The man became limp, I'm not sure he was still living, and he slumped down to his knees. With precision, Mark landed his cock in the man's mouth and that kept him on his knees. Mark began to pump, hold the man - - no, banging him into the wall. He seemed to try one last time to become aware and I realized he was staring at the God face fucking him. He was terrified, knew he was dying and was ready to ejaculate.

Mark pulled up into a double biceps and told me to grab them and pull down as hard as i could. I stepped behind him and did so. Mark yelled, "Fucking pull!," and I pulled so hard and Mark just growled and flexed harder. Sweating, pumping, flexing, grinding, breaking a man's skull and then he spat again and yelled, "Cum mother fucker," as he shoved his dick so hard into the back of the man's throat that three of us nutted and one of us died.  


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Great to read a good snuff story :) thanks! 

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I keep coming back to see if there's more of this great story. More, please. Much more!

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Thank you for sharing! So hard to find good snuff. Hope to see more!!! :D

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"So, tell me big man," I start, walking up behind him as he drops the corpse from his cock and lays his head back in satisfaction, "Is your end game to please me, or to kill me too?"

As he turns around, I stab him deeply into his abdomen with the large knife I've been waiting to use on him. We both look down to the rush of blood coming from the wound, but he didn't flinch. I move to stab again and he grabs my hand, uses his other to take a swath of blood from the wound (which already seems to be closing unless I'm just delirious from all this action and his reaction) and he takes his paw and rubs it across his bare chest. He flexes them hard and makes me drop the knife. His smile gone, he looks deeply at me and tilts his head in a decision-making motion. Soon, I learn my fate.

He directs my attention to where I stabbed him. The hole is all but closed up. We look at each other and he says, "I will please you. No human has dared try me like this. I like your spunk."

"Damn straight you'll like my spunk," I shoot back, wanting to impress. His like of my attitude is the only thing keeping me alive, I'm sure. "And you'll swallow it too."

Mark laughed loudly and simply said, "More!"

I produce a radio and call in my two Bretts. The behemoths I keep as guards and occasional fuck toys. I've never seen the pair of them taken down by anyone, but I relished that I was about to. They were good enough men, but I wanted to see this clash of the titans. I would orchestrate it and be sure all four enjoyed.

The Bretts enter the warehouse, guns in hand attached to the guns connected to their shoulders. Shit those boys were big. They were already heaving from combined excitement and low-level worry as they surveyed the room. There was no mistaking what had happened nor who had made it happen.

"Ah, my obedient servants," I began and was prompted to turn from facing the two men because of their collective shocked faces. 

"Yes, master?" asked Mark from one knee. His huge body was bowed humbly and I felt sincerity radiate. The others choked out a "yes, sir" and "yes...um...master" to try and match.

What to do now? I was suddenly in an entirely different position from where I expected to be. I was going to be in charge and master to this specimen. I had intended to break him for my pleasure, but now I fully understand that will not happen. I still want to dominate the undominatable, which is what I set out to do. It was going to end with the knife. But now, my domination will be his choice, not mine.I realized that is the true dom/sub relationship. 

A key turned. A door opened. I saw more. I comprehend the sub is really in control, especially this one, and that he likes it. Max has probably rarely been in the position to please through submission. Not yet understanding the superpower beyond his clear physical superiority (I mean those fucking delts and traps as he knelt before me with one fist on the floor...the perfect hair, the swoop down the cavernously separated back to that monumental ass) I imagined perhaps no man would ever attempt to dominate.

I was suddenly fueled with a strength that seemed to emanate from him. He looked up with that gorgeous face, the square jaw, the stubble that could break razor blades. He grinned and I was overwhelmed by the entirety of the visual stimulation while  being attached by the newly formed recognition of what we were about to do together. He knew that I knew. Perhaps he had even been the one to open my ind to this. Maybe he actually picked me out rather than the other way around as I imagined. Maybe this wasn't even my epiphany. Perhaps it was his gift. And God damn, fuck was I going to open this present!

I pushed my foot forward directly under his face. He accepted the role entirely and bent further forward and kissed it once. I heard a snort behind me. "Stand up, my man. I will not call you boy because you are nothing but a man. The definition of it, Mark. My commands will be happily obeyed. my compliments will thrill more than others. We will explore this together and make a team to end all before. Never has the side kick been the more powerful one. Never has the support force been the unstoppable"

"Bretts!" I shout and they appear to my side, but keeping their distance from Mark. "One of you restrain Mark with whatever you can find, he will allow you that with no resistance. The other get that forklift fired up, raise the prongs to chest height and drive it straight through him into the wall." They sprung into excited action.

I stepped forward to a mountain of muscle who already had his hand behind him ready to be tethered. "They still think you are huge, but defeatable. Without ever breaking the restraints, I want you to beat that forklift and surprise the shit out of them."I reach down and grab his taut cock with both hands and simultaneously squeeze and pull with almost my full force as he moans. Not sure with anticipation or tactile pleasure. 

Both of my boys appear and start to work on tying up Mark. I quickly see they both wanted to touch him and feel those muscles for themselves. They did plenty of groping as they went, with their big hands 'failing to encompass his upper arms while testing' the size of his unflexed arms for, I guess the right length of chain? They ran their hands admiringly over the incomparable shoulders and one even kind of place his hand on the front of Mark's neck in a choking motion to push his head back as they started chaining AND roping him up. When he didn't move his legs apart fast enough for them to loop through, one Brett kicked him from behind to buckle a knee. When he still didn't move enough, the other Brett hauled off and punched his gut hard! Mark let out a soft oof sound and Brett turned away, shaking his fist out without showing Mark. 

"I wasn't even flexing you little fuck," Mark growled. Brett turned and punched his face, knowing Mark was restrained. The other man went to grab his neck in a choke hold from behind and tried and then jumped on his back to do so. The man in front stepped aside and kicked Mark in the gut twice. That got their prey under control as far as the were concerned. Before Brett on back let go of Mark, he pried his jaw open and the other Brett spat in it. He started to laugh and before I knew what was happening Brett from behind and whipped out his dick and started pissing on the slave. They believed they were about to snuff him. Humiliation had always been a part of their routine.

"Big man not so awesome now?"

Brett climbed into the forklift that was half a couple dozen yards away as Mark was moved close to the wall. The nearer man now pulled a gun and trained it on Mark, shouting he shouldn't move. The other starts the forklift that I had modified for extra speed in addition to torque. I wasn't completely sure which machine would win. One thing pleased me immensely, though. Mark's cock had risen from its resting state after his first conquest to full hard and attention getting. It looked delicious. It would be a shame if this kills him.

"One question, master," starts Mark and Brett flies the butt of the gun into his jaw, making his lip and nose bleed. As he returns his glance to me after the hit, never even acknowledging Brett, he asks, "Are these men expendable to you?"

Before I can answer the forklift reaches the man. It drives him to the wall before he can place his feet and resist and the motor begins to grind while the steel blade against his right pec looks about to slice him through. It is deeply buried in that meat, but it is also clearly being held there for a moment. Brett shifts a gear and begins a fresh press while Mark looks like he is loosing ground and the arms drives deeper. 

Mark seems to flex every muscle in his body, but his right pec just can't seem to counter the weight and drive of the forklift. Brett holsters his gun and steps forward, mesmerized by the size of that flexed body. He reaches up and grabs the left, hardened, flexed pec and while groping taunts Mark, though I can't hear him. He spits at him again but enjoys the muscled chest. 

I wait without breathing - - then, the motor revs higher and I start to hear some sliding of metal on cement. I look to Mark's face and he is looking right at me. He indicates I should look at his chest and I become slack jawed. Ever so slowly, he was ripple flexing his mighty chest. One pectoral against a sizeable, powerful forklift. Brett floored it one more time and the motor started to smoke. He flexed that prong right back out to equal with Brett's hand on his other pec and then began to walk forward. Brett let go of him and backed up several paces and pulled his gun.

The engine gave out and Mark side-stepped the steel, heading for Brett and his gun. The other man leapt from the seat, undeterred by what he really couldn't see, cursing the stupid forklift for breaking down. He stood beside Brett and the both aimed pistols. They kept backing a bit and giving ground as Mark stepped forward, wet from piss and blood in his mouth from the strikes from the gun.

I'm fucking aghast. What the hell!? I've totally lost my composure. I yelled at the men with the guns. "Take this fucker down!" They looked less confident but perked up at the idea they could finish him. "You ALWAYS win, Brett! Run at him - attack - use every bullet and then kick the shit out of his dead body!"

The adrenaline finished its work giving them confidence they shouldn't have. They began their run at him and started shooting. As I suspected, the bullets seemed to deflect. They would leave surface wounds that would start to bleed, multiple, but he power-flexed his body into an incredible hands-behind-his-back most muscular that was a sight to see. Bullets broke skin but not muscle. One Brett unloaded completely and then just threw his gun at Mark's head as he lowered his shoulder to barrel him down. The other shot into the air to drop kick right at neck height, catching chest and face.

Mark took the hits hard and stumbled back several steps, but shrugged the lower attach to the side. The drop kick man returned and missed a second time. As one man came from the ground Mark met him with a headbutt that surely cracked one, if no two skulls. The sound was incredible! The other came from the side and Mark gave him a side kick that sent him flying. He was letting his arms stay tied back as I commanded.

The kicked man was very dazed and trying to recover from a distance. Mark seized on the opportunity and threw himself down on the Brett that was unconscious on the floor. Before I could tell what was happened, he wriggled the man into a position where he used the strength of his legs on the forklift they'd landed near to compress Brett's face between his chest and the floor. He pressed and flexed and smothered the man before he ever gained consciousness. It took a bit and I'm sure the skull was crushed, too. The other Brett watched in horror as Mark rose with new blood mingling with his own.

"He's fucking tied up, Brett, finish this!" I screamed.

He rushed the powerhouse, probably sure he wouldn't survive but wanting a glorious death. Mark deftly rolled onto his back as the attacker lowered to tackle him. That caused Brett to trip across Mark and Mark swung his legs up with incredible precision catching a torso between his thighs like he was catching a baseball bare handed. Skin hit skin. Legs locked in place, and they were face to face as Mark began to squeeze.

Brett shocked us both with a breathless, "God, yes!" as he moved his face down, took Mark's head in both hands and attempted to french kiss his bloody-mouthed killer even as he cried out, we heard ribs break and he sagged lifeless onto Mark.

I had cum in my pants at the sight.

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Sgit.. Imagine what can please a man like Mark. 

This is crazy good

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