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I promise this is the last of the silly ideas in my head before I write something more mainstream, so thanks for bearing with me while I indulge some of my ridiculous fantasies!


Okay, whoa, stop stop stop! Without reading your story, let me tell you right off the bat that this disclaimer is ludicrous! Whatever the premise, whatever the plot or the fantasy, you write whatever the hell you want. You don't try to please us with something "more mainstream" – whatever that means. We are not "bearing with you", we are eagerly awaiting anything creative that anyone here thinks up and is kind enough to share with us. 
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Now I've read it – and you can color me very intrigued. First off, I want to know what happened in that year into the future. But even more so, why does a bodybuilder just walk around this post apocalyptical world? Why does he look familiar? And why does he have a name for whatever he thinks Lewis is? 

As I said, don't you dare refrain from what you've called "silly ideas". I want more of this and you're not keeping it from all of us in the forum because you think it's not "mainstream" enough!



Seriously, though, the beginning is very interesting and I would really like to see you expand on it :)

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Thanks for the positive comments so far and sorry for the delay!


Superior: Second Part


Despite his hulking, almost obscenely muscular frame the bodybuilder moved surprisingly quickly. Even if it he hadn’t been frozen with fear, Lewis doubted he could have dodged the brute as the man’s big hand closed around his ankle and hoisted him up in the air.


“Gotcha!” He roared, hot breath searing the little scientist’s face, his broad, stubbly grin splitting his ruggedly handsome face as Lewis felt his world lurching upside down.


Scorching fingers of sunlight lanced into his pupils as his makeshift ocular protection slipped from his visage. Grasping at the cloth with one arm while the other flailed maniacally about, the scientist tried to wriggle free. The image of a terrified rabbit swinging wildly in some trap flickered through his panicked brain – an impression not lessoned by the look of hunger in the bodybuilder’s eyes. What on Earth was happening? His already boiling head seemed to seethe as blood rushed into his skull. He tried to steady his heart, his pulse, snatch back some of his rational thoughts as he swung chaotically back and forth in the big man’s grip.


Then he felt it. A pain – a deep, bone-clenching pain – coming from his ankle.


“You’re crushing me!” He yelped. “My ankle – aarrgghh!”


“Hah, I love it when you puny Zetas wriggle about!” The bodybuilder gave him a quick shake, which set Lewis’ teeth rattling. “You think you can get away from an Alpha? I’ve caught hundreds of you little shits. Only way you’re getting free is if you gnaw your own foot off, hehe. Just like little nyulak I used to catch back home.” He lifted Lewis still higher until the two men were eye to eye. The big brute’s deep brown pupils sparkled with a cruel sort of glee as he peered into the frightened face of his captive.


The pain Lewis felt in his ankle deepened. Was the bodybuilder crushing the bone in his grip? How was that even possible?


Suddenly those comments about losing his foot didn’t seem too far-fetched.


“Probably got my fingerprints on your ankle bone now, just from my little squeeze,” the muscleman smirked, leaning closer. His hot, loud breath, pumped from vast lungs deep beneath that muscular chest, blasted Lewis’ face, nearly ripping the cloth free a second time. “But still, a few crushed bones are the least of your problems now, right?”


“What do you mean?” Lewis stammered, his voice sounding weak in the wake of the bodybuilder’s own words. “What are you going to do to me?”


As if in response, Lewis heard a r-r-r-ipping sound from below. The huge, thick monolith of cock rose into view, smacking Lewis’ head aside painfully as it filled with blood and came to rest with a deep, fleshy slap in striated valley between the bodybuilder’s goliath pecs. Even through the gauze of the cloth Lewis could make out the swollen veins pulsing angrily on its surface. The heady smell of sweat and testosterone filled his nostrils.


“Damn, that’s another pair of gyenge pants I’ve lost, ha ha!” The hulking stud’s accented voice boomed as his posing briefs fluttered to the floor.


Desperately Lewis renewed his struggles to escape. You don’t become a scientist without possessing some skill at quantifying and measuring. And, in the glimpse before he squeezed his eyes shut to block out the terrifying sight of so much MAN, he had calculated the length and the girth of the thing looming before him. The numbers thrummed through his brain despite his attempts to quash them.


Again, he felt the muscleman’s hot breath as he huffed into his captive’s face. “Well eventually I’m going to tear your arms and legs off, heh, heh. But first…”


18 inches long.




3.5 inches in diameter.


“…we’re going to have a little fun.”


Absently, Lewis felt and heard his ankle bone buckle and snap in the sweaty, meaty grip of the bodybuilder.


The muscleman had been right.


That really was the least of his problems.






There was a horrid moment of silence. The calm before the storm?


The storm of cock, Lewis squealed internally, his sphincter quivering in fear.


But still, there it was.



Lewis opened his eyelids a fraction. He caught a brief snapshot of his panicked expression reflected in a marble-sized globule of pre at the angry red tip of that humungous arse-splitting tool, his mouth open in abject terror…and then there was a loud grunt of anger, he felt the grip on his ankle loosen, and he was dropped limply to the ground like a bag of bones.


He landed awkwardly on his front, the breath smashed out of his lungs, but even in this moment of disorientation the little scientist tried to squirm away, maybe even make it back to his craft…before he felt the bodybuilder’s big, heavy foot upon his back, pinning him to the hot pavement.


“Don’t you touch him!” An American accent exploded from somewhere in the distance as a big shadow fell across Lewis’ prone form. “You promised the next one to me – so he’s mine.”


Hesitantly, painfully, Lewis lifted his head.


The newcomer hadn’t even bothered with posing trunks. Silhouetted against the glare, was a monstrous, heaving, black mountain of straining muscle. Looking – if that were possible – even bigger than the first man, he strutted purposefully down the ruined street towards them, titanic endowment fully erect and thrust before him proudly like some sort of battering ram. Precum glistened on the tip in the hot sun.


Jesus, thought Lewis, tasting the copper of blood in his mouth and wondering whether he had broken anything internally, is everyone in the future a grossly oversized, horny, horse-cocked bodybuilder? What the hell had happened in the last 400 days?


The dust kicked up from the black god’s thundering steps did little to hide the ripped network of powerful muscles straining beneath the paper thin skin of his monster legs, bunching like steel fibres. His thighs looked thicker around than Lewis’ waist!


Again, he had that strange suspicion that he had seen the man somewhere before.


“Shawn,” his own giant muscleman replied, pressing his foot down a little harder to ensure his captive didn’t get away. Lewis felt a rib bend and snap. “It’s been a while.” Lewis couldn’t see his Eastern European captor, but he imagined him folding those big arms across the titanic mountains of his chest cockily. That’s what his voice sounded like – unhurried, casual. Arrogant.


“You put the last Zeta I caught in orbit,” the American hulk loomed closer, a good head and shoulders taller than Lewis’ captor.


“Heh, I remember.”


“Said you was gonna play with him for a while – then you threw him into space.”


I can feel the throb of their cocks from here, thought Lewis, attempting another squirm and earning himself another broken rib in the process.


“You got a feisty one there,” the massive black figure smirked, peering down past his straining pectoral balcony and dripping shaft. “I love it when they wriggle about!”


Forget muscle and horniness, Lewis thought, frantically. Everyone in the future is a psycho!


“Tell you what, Daniel,” the black titan continued. Daniel? Shawn? Who were these men? Lewis’ mind spun desperately. “I’ll arm wrestle you for him.” He swung his goliath arms in a stretch, hideously massive biceps and triceps constricting and flexing into titanium hardness. “Been smashing buildings, tanks and Zetas to pieces for so long, it’s been a while since this muscle had a real challenge.”


Lewis felt the tremendous weight leave his back. His first impulse was to try to move, but his battered, bruised and bleeding body refused his commands. Was he paralysed? Or had his body simply given up the fight against the inevitable? He felt himself beginning to slip into unconsciousness.


“Heh,” said the bronze Adonis above him, stretching his own gargantuan musculature as all about Lewis faded to black. “You’re on.”






It wasn’t fair.


Even in his alternating bouts of unconsciousness and delirium there didn’t seem to be any relief from the pain.


And the heat. The heat was everywhere. It burned him in his brief moments of wakefulness. It followed him as he dipped into blackouts, scorching the fringes of his unconscious mind, tracking him even into the darkest depths of himself, burning, biting, branding his very thoughts with sizzling explosions of white-hot fire.


So it was some time before he realised the cool hand on his brow was not a hallucination.


“Can you move?”


Lewis coughed something in reply. His eyes felt gummy, like half-melted candy, and his eyelids made faint sticky sounds when they peeled open.


Before him in the haze crouched a young man.


Were he not feeling two clicks from death, Lewis would have exaggerated a double take.


A normal-looking young man, in scuffed jeans and a t-shirt that read Insert Ironic Slogan Here.


“You can’t stay here. They’ll be back any minute, soon as they finish their match,” the young man was saying. “I can’t carry you. It’s not that far, but you’ll have to help me. Can you do that?” The voice sounded so earnest that Lewis was about to go back to his earlier hypothesis that it was a hallucination before the figure gripped his shoulder and started hauling him onto his feet.


Oh, thought Lewis. It was a rhetorical question. I thought he’d wait for me to answer before – owww, my fucking ankle – pulling me up.


Nonetheless the scientist found the strength to help the struggling young man, and between them they were able to get Lewis back on one shaky foot. The world span dangerously and for a moment Lewis had to fight to stop his eyes from rolling back in his head. He realised he was making a sick kind of groan, and tried to pull himself together. Tentatively he tried to put his weight on his broken ankle, and nearly passed out again with the sudden spike of pain.


“It’s the radiation,” the man explained, taking the weak man’s weight as they limped away. “It makes you go a bit crazy. You’ll be ok once we get you inside. And we’ll see what we can do about getting that ankle looked at.”


We? Thought Lewis, but said nothing. He was too busy concentrating on walking.


Even with the help of the young man, it was a good few wincing minutes before they passed out of the blaze of the street and into the comparatively cool shade of one of the ruined buildings.


It was little different to the first one Lewis had been in. The same apocalyptic décor, the same twisted mashes of furniture. But to the scientist, getting out of the glare, even for a moment, the place was heaven.


The young man didn’t stop in the doorway, however.


“Where we going?” Lewis protested, groggily. Getting to the building had taken nearly all of his dwindling energy and his companion wanted to keep going?


“Basement.” He pulled Lewis a few more steps into the room. The scientist felt his vision swimming, and grabbed his companion’s shoulder more tightly.  “The Alphas may own the city, but the whole undercity’s ours.”


Lewis’ bumbling footstep scuffed up a clouds of dust and rubbish. Turning his head to avoid breathing any it in, he caught himself, for the first time, eye to eye with the young man. Despite the weariness on his companion’s face (probably from lugging his sorry arse down a scorching street for the last quarter of an hour), his dark eyes shone strongly and defiantly. A faint smirk came to his lips.


“After all,” he continued, helping Lewis further into the building, “what would you expect from the Resistance?”

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Whoa, hey, nice one :)


More glimpses of the dystopia and it's only making us more interested in what the hell happened in that one year. The descriptions and actions are to the point and keep the story going at a pace fitting for the shock to Lewis' system. Personally, I'm not a fan of excessive violence, but the hell I'll miss the next part because I want to see what's gonna happen next!

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“Said you was gonna play with him for a while – then you threw him into space.”


This is terrifying and hot to me.

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