Popular Post ragmangsm Posted December 15, 2014 Popular Post Share Posted December 15, 2014 Below is a new story line. I am a whore for feedback. Please let me know if it pushes any buttons. -ragman Warning: This fantasy story is for adults only. You must be 21 years old to continue. Adult content may include nudity, mature relationships, violence, and extreme muscles and strength. All characters are over the age of eighteen. Machu Man – Part 1 By ragman I was struggling for breath in the altitude, as we approached Machu Picchu. The scenery was breathtaking, as well as the thin air. I was never an athlete, just average. I seemed to excel in academics, and had found mathematics a rewarding endeavor. I had just graduated and was hired to teach at our state university in the fall. So I thought I would take advantage of a student summer tour while I still had a student ID. The mystery of Machu Picchu, how a town could have been built on top of a mountain, out of huge stone boulders, was fascinating to me. The low cost of the student tour to this world landmark, made it something I couldn’t pass up. I meandered around the city on top of a mountain. The size of the stone slabs that made up much of the structure was enormous. How blocks of granite the size of cars were fashioned and hoisted in place was incredible. But more amazing was how tightly the stone slabs fit, how exactly, without mortar to seal them. How could primitive man manage to transport hundreds of tons of solid stone to the top of a mountain and then, with no metal tools or machines, build a city where every stone is precisely placed with perfectly tight seams requiring no mortar? My scientific brain was trying to imagine how such a feat could be accomplished. It seemed truly impossible. My head was filled with incredulousness as I was fumbling with my camera, trying to capture the impossible beauty of our three dimensional world on a two dimensional digital image, when I tripped and dropped my camera. It fell off the path and down the mountainside, but came to rest on a shelf of rock about six feet below the path. I was pissed at my clumsiness, and overreacted to the mishap. Without concern I shimmied over the path down to the ledge to retrieve my camera. It wasn’t until I was standing on the ledge that it occurred to me that I was in a dangerous spot, trusting on the ledge alone. I reached down cautiously to get my camera, putting it in my sweatshirt pouch. As I bent back up, I noticed a glimmer coming from a fairly deep crack in the rock. It looked like a metal sheen. I carefully dug around the object, until it came free. It was a small earthen jar, sealed with a gold top, the reason for the gleam. I put the jar in my sweatshirt pouch. By that time, my disappearance over the edge of the path had caused the guide and others to come to my aid. They helped me climb back up on the path, though I could have managed by myself. I assured them I was fine and showed them the camera I retrieved. I decided not to mention the jar. I don’t know why, I guess I didn’t want to share it yet. We continued the tour of the city. Beautiful stone and rock construction, with running water viaducts, and mysterious obelisks. The scale of the dwelling was awesome, suspended on top of the world. My senses were overloaded with the majesty and the architectural undertaking it took to build it. I was enthralled with beautiful images the entire bus ride back to our lodging, having forgotten about the small jar in my sweatshirt, now in my pack. We barely had time to grab a bite to eat and pack our bags before heading back to the airport for the journey home. ****************** I was moving into my new place just off campus, looking forward to starting my mathematics teaching career. I didn’t have that much to move in, being a recent student with not a lot of furniture or belongings. So, I had rented a furnished townhouse, and was unpacking the last of my stuff. Ah, the knapsack from the Machu Picchu trip, I had quickly packed it when leaving South America, and hadn’t needed the stuff in it, my sweatshirt included. I unstuffed the fleece and felt something in the pouch. The little jar, of course, I had forgotten. I took it out of the pouch and examined it more closely. There were some markings on it. On the face of the small jar was etched a figure, but it was out of proportion somehow, almost fat, but different. And the gold top had a character inscribed, also. It looked like an “8”. My curiosity soon led me to wonder about the contents. I tried to uncork the top, but I couldn’t get the gold stop to budge. I finally decided to try my mom’s remedy and put the top under hot water for a few seconds. I tried again, and the top shifted slightly. I mustered all the strength in my thumbs and jockeyed the stopper out of the neck of the jar. The final millimeter gave with a “Pooh”. A dense cloud of blue gas escaped from the bottle and swirled around in front of me, condensing into a human form. The gases solidified and became solid. Before me stood a young man. He was about six feet tall, my height, with golden hair and blue eyes. His face was young, I’d say, seventeen or eighteen, with tanned skin. He wore only a piece of what looked like leather, in a loin cloth fashion, that covered his man-ness. He was svelte and muscular, like a fitness model, with wonderful proportions. “You have summoned me to serve you, Master,” he spoke with soft resonance. “How can I please you?” “Who are you? Why are you here?” I babbled. “I am yours. You hold the vessel of my control. I am here to obey your every command. You decide my purpose and identity. I will become your perfect companion.” I was stunned to say the least. This couldn’t really be happening, could it? A genie from a bottle, no less. What should I do next? “Please tell me how to begin. I am at a loss for what to say,” I requested. “I am sorry I have caused you distress. I will try to ease your discomfort.” The teenage Apollo approached me and embraced me gently. His touch was warm and enveloping. He exuded confidence and trustworthiness. My defenses were slowly lowering as he moved his strong hands over my body in a caress. “Does that make you less tense, Master?” he asked. “I have many ways to give you pleasure, that you will learn to command. My body can do things no one else could dream of, and you get to do the dreaming.” “I don’t understand,” I replied. “You will just do whatever I ask you to do?” “Yes, Master.” “With what kind of limits?” I added. “Do I just get three wishes?” I asked like a fool. “I have no limits, Master. You can command me to do anything.” “What are we talking about here?” I pondered. “What do you mean you can do anything” “I have the power of the galaxy in my body, the strength of a millions suns. I can do any feat of strength you can imagine, I have inconceivable control of every muscle of my body.” “This is too much to believe,” I struggled. “I need to take a minute.” Perhaps this is a good time to mention that I have always been turned on by muscles, on men or women, but especially men. I have found the muscled male body to be a work of magnificent sculpture, of muscle art. I have curbed or mitigated my private fantasies, relying on internet sites for titillation and amusement, always secretly wanting a muscle mate, to dote on and worship, who would protect me and make my wishes come true. What was standing before me fulfilled a fantasy of my lifetime. “I noticed you were beginning to rub me back, when we embraced. Did you like the feel of my body?” “You are beautifully handsome, and I have a weakness for big, strong muscles,” I was surprised to hear myself admit that to a genie. “You are captivating, and intriguing.” “So if my muscles were bigger, that would please you more?” “Probably,” I nodded. “I haven’t had the opportunity to find out.” “How about this, Master?” The genie tensed his muscles. He expanded outward with the flex, bulging and rippling with growing muscles until he looked like a teenage bodybuilder. “Whoa, that’s amazing how you can flex your muscles that big. It makes me want to feel how hard you are now, how strong you have flexed.” The muscled teen stepped to me and offered his flexed biceps for me to explore. He grabbed my hand gently and placed it on top of the peaked split of his 20 inch arm. It was hard, and warm and alive. He flexed a bit harder and forced my fingers apart with his bulging muscle. “This arm is all yours, Master. You can command it to grow and strengthen with the power of thunderheads, or order it to flex to the ceiling or higher.” I was awestruck with the possibilities of his power. With his confidence and demeanor, muscles and charisma, he was the perfect fulfillment of my wildest fantasies. “Does my demonstration please you, Master?” he asked hoping for approval. “I’ve never been more pleased,” I managed to mutter. “But, I think it’s time for you to call me Mike, instead of Master. That’s my name.” “Very well, Mike. You are unlike the others. You are kind. Thank you for allowing me to please you with my strength. Nothing gives ME more pleasure than using my immense strength and powers to benefit those with good hearts. My vessel has not always been in possession by those who have benevolent thoughts. Regardless, I must obey the commands of my owner, it is my purpose.” “When were you last released from your vessel?” I asked, trying to assimilate what I was hearing. “My last task was building a city of stone on top of a mountain.” “Machu Picchu?” I asked incredulously. “You built it single handedly?” “No, Mike. I built it with both hands, and the rest of my powerful body.” Obviously, he was going to answer me literally. “So, you’ve been in the jar for all this time?” “You are my first Master since Machu Picchu, as you call it.” “Whoa, you’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” I marveled. “It’s been a few years since you’ve been out of your vessel.” “It pleases me that you will be my Master, Mike. I will learn all there is to know so that I can serve you,” he said. “Uh,…. OK.” I responded with fascination. “Can we talk a little more about how this works? I’m not sure I get what’s going on.” “Of course, Mike. Whatever you wish.” he said obediently. “That’s what I mean. Do you just follow me around and do stuff for me?” I was confused. “I’ve got a lot of questions.” “I am here to do whatever you ask of me, Mike. In the past I have been the servant of Kings, and tyrants, alike. I can build you a monument, defeat your enemies, or serve your every physical desire.” “So you have no desires of your own?” I asked. “Only to please you, Mike,” he said humbly. This was going in circles, so I decided to change the subject to everyday matters. “So, where do you sleep? Do you eat?” Stuff like that. He explained his ability to adapt and fit in with humanity. He said he didn’t require food or water or sleep, but, he could consume anything I wanted him to, literally. He told me some of his masters kept him in his vessel while they slept, for fear he would escape, which he could not, or to keep him secret. I asked him if he minded being in the vessel. “It is what my masters’ wished,” he responded, not understanding the meaning of the question. I still couldn’t believe what was happening. I just stared at the loincloth-clad Adonis before me. He started to look around. “How long have I been in my vessel? Where are we Master Mike?” he inquired. “Is this your dwelling?” “Wow, I didn’t think about how many questions you would have, I was so lost in my own wonderment,” I apologized. “Where shall we start?” “Start wherever you wish to begin,” he obediently replied. I rolled my eyes at the repetition of his acquiescence. “Can we begin with you not being so subservient? I’d like you to be a friend, not a slave.” He responded with confusion, “I’ve never had friend, nor do I know how to be one. Would you please teach me, Mast…eh…, Mike, my f-r-i-e-n-d?” he asked sheepishly. “I’d love to, Friend!” I added eagerly. I moved to him and put my arm around his sculpted shoulder and gently squeezed. He was warm and hard and responded with his arm on my shoulder. It was heavier than I expected. “Well, to answer your first question, it’s the year 2014,” I began. “And you are a long way from Machu Picchu.” ******************* I had a few days before I started work, so we were able to spend some time together, getting to know each other, or rather me learning about his abilities, and Machu Man, learning about what pleased me. The experience was mind blowing. I asked for him to demonstrate his true strength. He told me that was not possible, because he had found no limits. I caught my breath, and tried to comprehend what that meant. He picked up an empty wine bottle and placed it between his pectorals. He flexed his chest and his cleavage grew to almost surround the bottle. Then he flexed harder and I heard glass shatter, but he contained the fragments within his cleavage. Next he began flexing each pec and grinding up the glass between them. I could see the pieces get smaller and smaller until the mixture was like fine glass cement. Then Machu Man flexed harder and his pecs began to heat up. He poured on the power and soon the glass dust was a molten blob of glass that continued to get hotter with the enormous pressure and heat he was generating with his chest muscles. The blob began to boil between his pecs, and evaporate in a cloud of silica steam that was thousands of degrees hot. What happened next was my first observation of his true nature. He inhaled the superhot glass steam through his nostrils, like he was smelling roses. After a few seconds the entire glass blob was reduced to steam, by the heat of his muscle pressure, and inhaled completely. I was speechless. “That is one way I fashioned the huge stone blocks of Machu Picchu so they would fit perfectly together,” he commented. I’d soften the side of a stone block by hugging it real hot. Then when I placed it, the stone would flow like lava and seal with the stone next to it.” I heard what he was saying, but still couldn’t fathom the reality. “I’d pile three or four huge boulders on top of each other and carry them up the mountain balanced on one hand, like a waiter holding a tray.” Machu Man held his right hand up with the palm facing up to demonstrate the position. The movement of his arm caused his biceps and deltoids to flex into a perfect display of hard, ripped muscles, with the biceps full and long in their 22-inch flex. He then pumped his arm up and down as if he were lifting a mountain of boulders. His triceps expanded into a boulder of muscle itself as he mimicked a one-arm press. He seemed to notice my fixation with his flexing, enjoying my reaction. “Then I’d start piling them up, building a wall or arch,” he continued to mime, as he would spread his arms wide to pretend lifting a huge block of stone. His pantomime was extraordinary. His chest and arms exploded with striated muscle fibers as he appeared to lift a huge weight before him. Then things got pretty freaky. “Then I would expand my chest really big like this,” he moaned. “Unnnmmpphh.” His perfect pectorals expanded hugely, filling in the space between his outstretched hands, which must have been 6-feet apart. “Then I would flex my muscle fibers really hot, like I did with the wine bottle.” Suddenly the room temperature spiked from the heat of his pectorals as he demonstrated his power. “Oops, too hot for indoors. But, you get the idea,” he continued his skit. “So I’d soften the entire side of a huge block of stone with my enormous chest, then place it where I wanted, and gently press the stone. The softened face would mold perfectly to fit tightly.” As Machu Man concluded his description of boulder masonry, he seemed to misinterpret my enthrallment. “Have I displeased you Master Mike?” he asked worriedly. “I thought you might enjoy my tale. You haven’t said much.” After regaining my composure some, I tried to respond. “Y... you made the city by melting the stone faces with your pecs?” I finally muttered. “Yes, Mike. That is one of the methods I used to make the stones fit perfectly. It only took a fraction of my strength and power to build Machu Picchu. Stone is easily broken and melted with enough pressure. And these muscles can exert more than enough pressure.” Machu Man raised his arms and brought them down into a double biceps pose. This time, with his hands in the classic position, his biceps erupted into twin Matterhorns of peaked spendor, easily eclipsing 27-inches. My junk could take no more. My erection was painfully confined by my pants, but clearly visible. He smiled and pumped another 2 inches out of his peaked muscle mass, then waited for my reaction. I moaned and pumped ejaculate out of my tented member, staining my pants. “I was worried that my muscle story had disturbed you. I am grateful that you seem to be pleased,” Machu Man spoke softly. “I want very much to please you.” ‘I have never heard of a mason that melted his stone for mortar,” I marveled. “I don’t think anyone has called me a mason before,” he replied. “You know, ‘Mason’ would be a good name for you. It’s kinda clever, if I do say so myself, and it sounds strong, with some distinction.” I was pleased with my suggestion. “What do you think about me calling you Mason?” Machu Man started to respond as usual, “If that is wha…… I mean,… I like …Mason. I can identify with the name.” “Awesome,” I agreed. “Awesome?” Mason questioned. “It’s a current slang expression than means ‘better than ever, great, or super good’,” I tried to explain. “I think being your friend will be awesome, Mike,” he smiled. I melted. After I composed myself I began again. “There is so much to teach someone who has been away for 900 years. So much history, so many new inventions, such a different way of life than you know of. We have machines and tools, electricity and nuclear power…. We’ve even traveled to the moon.” Mason gazed around the room as I spoke and took in everything. He didn’t seem to be overwhelmed by it all, indeed, he seemed to soak it all in. “You need to teach me how to operate all these devices,” he remarked as he scoped the TV, computer, refrigerator, oven, and all the furniture. “I will, Mason. You’ll be amazed with all things in this modern world. But, first, I think we need to deal with your appearance.” “Oh?” he wondered. “Do I need to add more muscle to please you, like this?” He stood more erect and flexed a bit all over, causing him to expand his musculature to a pro bodybuilder size. It was breathtakingly amazing how he could grow at will like that. After I stopped gasping, I said, “My god! That’s not what I meant, but you are magnificent. I was talking about your loin cloth. I don’t think you’ll fit in wearing only a piece of hide. We need to put modern clothes on you. Or at least some shorts that make you more presentable.” I was thinking how I didn’t want to cover up his upper body. “OK, Mike. I’ll take this off” Before I knew what was happening, Mason reached for his waist strap, which was made of heavy rawhide, and easily tore it apart, causing his loin cloth to drop to the ground. There in my townhouse stood naked perfection. I stood, waveringly, as I took in his splendor. He was perfect. His proportions were perfect. His muscle definition was perfect. His skin seemed more perfect than I noticed before. His eyes were bluer than I remembered and his golden hair was perfectly silken. And his manhood was…perfect. In its relaxed state his cock hung with throbbing veins snaking around its perfect 8-inch length. His two testes filled his perfectly sized sac and exuded power. Mason stood there with no embarrassment, naïvely actually, and waited for his next instruction. “What should I wear, Mike?” broke the silence. “Uh, er…. Why don’t you try a pair of my undershorts?” I managed to answer. “Here, try these on. They are stretchy and fit snuggly. Then put on these cargo shorts. The legs are bigger so they should fit you better.” “Thanks, Mike. It’s cool that we both are about the same size, when I’m not flexing much.” ‘Not flexing much’? He seemed pretty big to me. How big could he flex? ***************** Finally, I had to report to work. I told Mason he should watch TV, or surf the net, to learn about what was happening in this era. He sat down and turned on the tube. When I got home he was in the same position, with the TV on a news channel and the computer screen flashing pages at an astounding rate. “Have you been watching that all day?” I asked. “That was your command, Master Mike. Though I must say, much of this news is repetitive and opinionated.” That sounded very astute. “I learned how to manipulate the computer so it would show several pages at one time. And scroll faster than it was set up to. So I was able to read all of Wikipedia and all the books in the Library of Congress while you were at work. Mankind has made many advances, but still seems to allow suffering at the hands of religious tyrants or greedy tycoons.” I heard what he said, noticed the computer flashing multiple pages a second, and tried to comprehend his enormous abilities. “There seems to be a variety of disasters around the globe, earthquakes, floods, wars, killings. Do you wish me to stop them?” he asked, matter-of-factly. “You have the strength and power to stop earthquakes?” I was amazed at the concept. “If you command me, Mike.” “I don’t want the responsibility to decide who gets saved, and who doesn’t. And what unintended consequences might result from messing with Mother Nature. Frankly, I was enjoying your company. This is a new town, and a new job for me. It’s kind of stressful dealing with it all.” Not to mention pondering the presence of a god, which I didn’t. “I was wishing you would be my friend, someone I can count on, for support and comfort.” “Of course, Mike. Let me support and comfort you now.” Mason picked me up effortlessly in his muscled arms and held me close. His warm, throbbing body was electrifying. I felt a surge of energy and well-being that made me shiver. “What would friends do after a day at work?” Mason asked. His question caught me off guard. “I guess, they would head to a game, or go get a drink.” “Game? That sounds interesting. What games do you play?” “Oh, I like to play most sports, I just never had the drive to work that hard. I think there’s a baseball game tonight, at the college. Do you want to go?” “If that is your desire, Master Mike.” I flinched a bit. ************************* We headed to our seats in the bleachers. I bought us each a couple of hot dogs and a beer, to teach Mason the proper way to watch sports. He watched me bite into my dog and enjoy the fatty delicacy. I watched him take the entire hot dog, put it in his mouth, and suck it down his throat in one piece. “You might want to chew your food before you swallow it whole, when you’re in public,” I suggested. “Of course, Mike.” He bit off a hunk of his other dog, chewed once and swallowed. “Please don’t waste your money on food for me. I don’t require it.” “OK,” I agreed. “Let me tell you about the rules of baseball.” I hadn’t tried to tell someone about baseball, that hadn’t seen a game before. It’s not that easy to explain. It is truly a unique game. There are no time limits, a team can overcome a seemingly insurmountable lead in the last inning and win. Plays that count are sometimes out of bounds, like foul flies. And other oddities of the game. Mason seemed to learn very quickly. In the bottom of the ninth, our team needed three runs to wins. We had two runners on, with the winning run at the plate, and two outs. The batter swung and popped it up in the infield. “Damn, I wish he coulda hit a home run, out here in the bleachers,” I unknowingly spoke. “As you wish, Mike.” Mason pursed his lips and sucked in like a tornado. The ball reached the top of its arc and was sucked towards the bleachers, caught in the vacuum of Mason’s breath. Once the trajectory was altered and the ball was headed our way, he stopped inhaling and I watched the ball fall from the sky into his outstretched hand. The home crowd went wild with the homerun, the other team was baffled by an easy out turning into a loss. “Shit, did you do that?” I said staring at the ball in Mason’s hand. “It is what you wished,” he said, proudly handing me the ball. I needed to be careful what I casually ‘wished’ for. “Do you want to go to the bar, like friends?” he asked. “Yeah, that would be great,” I answered, holding the ball in my hand, still wondering how he did that. “Except, you don’t have any ID. You can’t get in without ID,” I stated. “I have been smuggled into places in the past, Mike,” Mason said. “I can return to my vessel and you can carry me in your pocket. Once inside, you can release me where it’s safe.” Huh, that sounded possible. We headed back to my place to get his vessel. ************************** I was curious. “Tell me more about how you and this jar work.” “Of course, Mike. My vessel holds the essence of my power. He, who possesses it, possesses me.” “But, it looks quite fragile, like it could break. What happens to you if your vessel is damaged?” I asked. Mason was lost in thought. “I have not been asked that question before. If my vessel were destroyed, I would have no Master to serve. I would have no purpose.” “While I’m your ‘master’, do you automatically protect and save me, or do I have to wish for every rescue, specifically?” I was somewhat embarrassed that my analytical, mathematical mind was asking such lame questions. “When I take human form out of the vessel, it is my purpose to see no harm comes to you, my Master, as I fulfill your desires,” Mason stated. “Do you still wish to go to the bar, like friends?” His frank honesty, his unbelievable power, combined with his manly tenderness, all wrapped up in a six foot tall gorgeously muscled body, was making me forget about the rest of the world. “Or should I just entertain and please you here?” he asked willingly bouncing his pecs. “My desires to please you are greater than for any other master. I feel stronger, more alive, more powerful with you as my Master, Mike. Thank you for caring about me. No one has ever cared about me before.” “Hey, that’s what friends do. They care for and look out for each other,” I said, putting my arm around his muscled shoulders. “I’m the luckiest guy in the world to have found you as a friend. Who else has a friend that can suck a pop-up into the bleachers for a winning home run?” “Did you like that,” he grinned. “I thought you might. I know you didn’t REALLY wish for it, but it IS what you said.” “Why, you son-of-a-gun,” I joshed, punching him too hard in the gut, a mistake that gave me a sore hand. “You even have a sense of humor. I love it.” Mason looked at me softly with a smile. “OK, here’s my real wish, all the time, while we’re friends. I wish you would show your sense of humor often, and I wish you would express your views freely. I don’t want a sycophant for a friend.” “OK, I’ll just be your lover.” I was silenced. “Ha-ha. My second joke,” his laugh was forced. My face was flushed. He saw my reaction. “I’m sorry, I see I may have offended you, my friend,” he spoke with sincerity. “My past owners have often ordered me to perform for them, as well as win wars. I am inexperienced with speaking freely, with humor. I was trying to amuse you. Please forgive me.” He lowered his head in shame. “Hey, come here. I love you, bro. Now that the shock is over, that WAS pretty funny.” I gave Mason a hug. He seemed to be relieved. “So, I know what will make you feel better, Mason,“ I tried to change the tone. “I wish you would pose and flex and turn yourself into the most beautiful muscular specimen on the planet, just for me.” Mason’s eyes lit up, even sparkled, as his posture regained his confidence. “Nothing would give me more satisfaction. Would you please give me a measurement to work from?” he asked with anticipation. “How about 30 inch biceps,” I responded, finally understanding the question. “Ah, probably the upper limit of most men. And a most wonderfully aesthetic size, allowing for beautiful symmetry on my six foot frame.” Mason took off the clothes he was wearing, my shirt and pants, leaving my stretchy boxers. It was convenient that he could wear my size, so we were able to avoid shopping for him, while my budget was tight. I took a comfortable seat on the couch. Mason stood just a few feet before me. “Thank you for asking me to pose for you. Masters of yore did not appreciate my body as an object of worship, with large bulging muscles. They were intimidated with how I could flex my muscles to huge proportions, making them feel insignificant and insecure. They always feared me.” He continued with praise, “You are different. You have a desire, a fascination for seeing my muscles flexed bigger than anyone has wanted me to flex before. Thank you for liberating me with your desires, Mike. I will do my best to please you.” Wow, please me he did. He began with kind of a dance, that was flowing and sensual. His tightly muscled physique was undulated, and defined. Wonderfully sharp and articulated muscle fibers appeared on his lean body. Then his muscles began to grow. His muscle fibers split and bulged anew, adding inches of hard, vascular, teen muscle to his youthful bodybuilder frame. He started to add a second of ‘freeze’ to his rhythmical movements, stopping to flex a pose. Each pose he flexed, got bigger and more defined. His calves mushroomed to 27 inches of diamond hard, angular, vascular, throbbing, double cantaloupes of snarled steel muscle fibers. The tear drop muscles over his knee looked like two fifty pound bags of cement, that would churn into striated ridges of muscles when he flexed, while the rest of his quad exploded with huge cables of criss-crossing sinew reaching at least 58 inches, each. As his routine continued, he would turn around and show all sides of his amazingly muscled body. His bulbous strips of gluteus muscles, his mogul mountain of hamstrings, all stood out with deep crevasses defining each muscle. His two lower back, spinal cables were thickly twisted muscle strands that could hold a suspension bridge aloft, growing even larger and more rippled as they moved up along his spine. His lats flared out in slabs of thick wings, with individual muscle ‘fingers’ squeezing out of the edges of his wide ‘v’ shape, that fought for space with his ballooning triceps. His traps were casings of bulging sausage that came up to his ears. I was having a hard time absorbing everything I was seeing. The absolutely stunning musculature before me, had not been seen by a human before. I felt inadequate, yet in a way, somewhat responsible for the emergence of his new existence. I could only stare and try to comprehend his power, his strength, all that he was surrendering to me to fulfill my desires. He kept dancing and posing, turning and flexing. I witnessed the most intricate and condensed display of abdominal muscle in the world, within a waist that only measured about 28 inches. The narrowness of his waist sharply contrasted the slabs of pectorals and lats that made up his 76 inch chest measurement. He raised his arms and flexed a double biceps pose. The caps of his massive shoulders fought for space between his head and biceps. The bowling pins of his forearms were 22 inches at least. And crowning the statue of muscle perfection, were two multi-headed monoliths of might, measuring 30 inches around. “Please don’t move for a moment,” I managed to whisper. I needed more time to take him all in, to force myself to breathe. Mason smiled at me and tensed a bit more, causing every muscle fiber to harden to steel, giving his body a sheen. I don’t think I was able to blink for over a minute. “May I move now, Mike?” Mason’s voice shocked me to the present. I managed to nod. He relaxed his flex and sat down next to me, putting his massive arm around me, pulling me to the cavern that was formed by his chest, lats and arm. “I am grateful that you found my vessel, Mike. I have never had a master that wanted me as a friend, like you. It is a very rewarding experience. You have opened my being to new experiences, given me new levels of awareness, released….feelings. I don’t believe I’ve had feelings before. I wish you would help me understand them,… friend.” He sounded like a confused teenager, genuinely asking for my help. “Of course, my Master,” I said, reversing roles. “That’s what friends are for.” ******************************* 7 52 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
myfaceisitchy Posted December 15, 2014 Share Posted December 15, 2014 Very nice. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
iceman751 Posted December 15, 2014 Share Posted December 15, 2014 I've been a fan of the My Nephew stories from the beginning, I am proud to host them on my yahoo group, I think it would be a real treat to post them all here, I think that they would definitely be appreciated by a lot of people here, and I am really looking forward to reading new chapters, especially ones dealing with pure muscle size, muscle description and strength description. Great seeing you here ragmansm! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
babbages Posted December 16, 2014 Share Posted December 16, 2014 Love this and I would love to see the Nephew stories again!! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lukullus Posted December 16, 2014 Share Posted December 16, 2014 Your "My Nephew" stories were so awesome, I read them again once in a week! And I am SOOOO glad that you decided to write stories again! Please continue, I really LOVE your works! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
flamedelft Posted December 16, 2014 Share Posted December 16, 2014 Ragman! Love your stories, please post more! You always come up with the wildest muscle imagery I've ever seen. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Zephleit Posted December 17, 2014 Share Posted December 17, 2014 WOOH!!! A new story from one of my favorite authors! I already love it and you've only just started. You never fail to impress us with your crazy but very creative writing.Stories like this are very hard to come by. Can't wait for the next one! Your "My Nephew" series is one of my all-time favorites. I had it saved on my PC so I can read it anytime:- My Nephew (the original version before the multi-part one)- My Nephew (Parts 1-9)- My Nephew 2: Summer at Twelve (Parts 1-3)- My Nephew: Journal (Parts 1-2)- My Nephew: Kyle's Birthday It would be awesome if you post the whole series again for those who still haven't read it.Are there more stories? 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
ragmangsm Posted December 17, 2014 Author Share Posted December 17, 2014 Thanks everyone for the encouraging words. I think I may have a chapter or two no one has seen yet. I'm working on the Machu Man story, with a couple of story lines. I have a question. What would be the policy on stories with some gore? You know, a broken bone here, a crushed spine there. Is there a place for that here, at this website? -ragman 4 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
iceman751 Posted December 17, 2014 Share Posted December 17, 2014 I don't mind it personally myself, I think there may have been a couple posted here and there in this section, there was one that I liked personally, written by dominant muscle master that had actually some straight up deaths caused by superior muscle and strength, so I don't see why that couldn't happen here. Of course I'm not the moderator/admin here, so I don't know the rules completely. But I don't see why it wouldn't be allowed. 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
muscl4life Posted December 17, 2014 Share Posted December 17, 2014 Glad to see you back! Your story is a revisitation of a classic scenario, but you have made an amazing tale! I am really hooked up into Mike and Mason, hopefully they will be more than just friends... Congratulations! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts
Join the conversation
You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.