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SNEAK PREVIEW! EXCERPT FROM COMING CHAPTER 22!.....COMING SOON.

December 6th, 2021

 

Slightly before dawn the next morning the Valhalla bus – a $250,000 custom job, replete with comfortable plush seating, overwide aisles, juice bar, high speed Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, and a small snack counter - left the compound. Nine selected men, plus Sergeant Moster, Dr Lang, and a slightly disgusted if certainly envious, non-muscle worshipping bus driver were off to LA to make the select client rounds. Dr. Shaft had been alerted and was proceeding directly to LA in his own private car.

 

Three appointments, in Brentwood, Beverly Hills, and in the Hollywood Hills, had been discreetly confirmed by Dr. Zaftig's assistant Rose.

 

The total cash earnings for the weekend of muscle worship in three locations might exceed $300,000. Barring any unusual cleanup (walls replaced, carpet torn up and relaid, plumbing bills, broken windows, and so forth), hospitalizations or lawyer fees, the net gain could exceed $275,000.

And after the appointments, the men were also to be allowed some free time after the obligatory scheduled visits. Each man had been given a tablet and a private burner phone to make their own appointments.

 

An hour into the drive, the men were finally calm, quiet, settled in, and busy. They all wore oversized, roomy grey sweats, Valhalla logos blazened across massive chests.

 

Workout that morning had been scheduled for 4 AM, with another afternoon workout planned at Gold’s in Venice, which had been privately booked for the occasion, at a cost of $30,000. Biceps had been blasted to the explosion point, pecs worked past all expectations. Extra doses of P21 had been supplied and the already damaged muscles were well on their way to repair, ready for an afternoon blasting.

 

In addition, the men had been cautioned in no uncertain terms by Moster not to “play” for the 24-hour period before departure. Punishment for infringement would be a very public and very painful raw glutes paddling in the Gold’s Venice parking lot. None of the men wanted this, although the prospect of such attention in private was always appealing.

And so, for more than a day not a man in the group had shot his load. Moster anticipated cumulative cumblasts would reach the multi-gallon point by weekend finish. Many a wealthy patron could look forward to a thorough facial of rich, thick cumshots following some vicious customer throat plowing and thorough client asshole destroying by the weekend wrap.>>>>>

 

 

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30 minutes ago, joeysilverado said:

updated - big muscle worship chapter perhaps missed by my new followers?

plus an excerpt coming of the next chapter!! in a few minutes....

Alright Joey Silverado.  I keep telling myself not to beg you for more of the Twenty, I know that good things take time.  But I'm ready for your excerpt!

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SNEAK PREVIEW! EXCERPT FROM COMING CHAPTER 22!.....COMING SOON.
December 6th, 2021

Slightly before dawn the next morning the Valhalla bus – a $250,000 custom job, replete with comfortable plush seating, over-wide aisles, juice bar, high speed Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, and a small snack counter - left the compound. Nine selected men, plus Sergeant Moster, Dr Lang, and a slightly disgusted if certainly envious, non-muscle worshipping bus driver were off to LA to make the select client rounds. Dr. Shaft had been alerted and was proceeding directly to LA in his own private car.

Three appointments, in Brentwood, Beverly Hills, and in the Hollywood Hills, had been discreetly confirmed by Dr. Zaftig's assistant Rose.

The total cash earnings for the weekend of muscle worship in three locations might exceed $300,000. Barring any unusual cleanup (walls replaced, carpet torn up and relaid, plumbing bills, broken windows, and so forth), hospitalizations or lawyer fees, the net gain could exceed $275,000.
And after the appointments, the men were also to be allowed some free time after the obligatory scheduled visits. Each man had been given a tablet and a private burner phone to make their own appointments.

An hour into the drive, the men were finally calm, quiet, settled in, and busy. They all wore oversized, roomy grey sweats, Valhalla logos blazened across massive chests.

Workout that morning had been scheduled for 4 AM, with another afternoon workout planned at Gold’s in Venice, which had been privately booked for the occasion, at a cost of $30,000. Biceps had been blasted to the explosion point, pecs worked past all expectations. Extra doses of P21 had been supplied and the already damaged muscles were well on their way to repair, ready for an afternoon blasting.

In addition, the men had been cautioned in no uncertain terms by Moster not to “play” for the 24-hour period before departure. Punishment for infringement would be a very public and very painful raw glutes paddling in the Gold’s Venice parking lot. None of the men wanted this, although the prospect of such attention in private was always appealing.
And so, for more than a day not a man in the group had shot his load. Moster anticipated cumulative cumblasts would reach the multi-gallon point by weekend finish. Many a wealthy patron could look forward to a thorough facial of rich, thick cumshots following some vicious customer throat plowing and thorough client asshole destroying by the weekend wrap.>>>>>

 

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  • 1 year later...

I'll be dreaming about this story tonight!  Muscle SEX MMMMMUSCLE SSSSEEEXXX!!!!!  Nothing better than flexing and cumming and telling everyone how Fuckin. BIG. YOU. ARE!!!!     fuck this has me dripping just reading it!

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  • 3 weeks later...

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