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Here's another installment of the Boot and Chris saga. I'm gauging interest in getting the story line back into chronological order and reposting the earlier episodes. -------------- Boot Goes Home for Thanksgiving As the day came closer I began to think that Thanksgiving at the mansion in Oak Park with Chris was perhaps not such a good idea after all. What had I gotten us into? For the first ten miles of the drive I didn't tell him what was waiting for us. My father and I are like oil and water, and I had originally planned on staying away for the holidays, but I wound up changing my mind after my sisters talked to me. They're my half-sisters, actually, from Pop's two previous marriages, older and married and nicely set up with their lives. But lately, after years of their threatening to sever relations and then relenting, things have taken a turn for the worse and I've been feeling a little sorry for him, alone in that big house. I knew they wouldn't be coming and I knew he wouldn't believe it until they actually didn't show up. They had threatened to stay away before, but in the end they always arrived with smiles and gifts and without recriminations. It was a perennial joke: "How can you have Thanksgiving without Ginger and Brandy?" Just fill in the name of the holiday. But this time I thought there could be trouble, depending on how much my father had been drinking before we got there. I briefed Chris on all this and he took it in like a chemistry lecture. It seemed natural to him, even though he's an only child. He calmed me down instead of the other way around: I was dreading the approach to the house, the long, curving drive and the gate and the entry doors. We could get in the gate without calling the house — I have a clicker for it — but the doors are wrought iron and glass and enormous, and if they were barred from the inside, we wouldn't be able to open them from the outside. And the housekeeper, Agnes McAuliffe, might have the day off; after all, it was Thanksgiving. But there she was, a one-woman welcoming committee in her black uniform with its white frilly apron. "Absalom, you old ingrate," she laughed as I pecked her on the cheek. We talk in a code that's mostly jokes, hardly saying a straight word to each other. "And who's this tall glass of water?" She gaped at Chris with her jaw hanging open as part of her act. "I'm Boot's friend Chris from school," Chris offered. "Well, Boot's friend Chris, I'm Agnes, and if there's anything you want, I run this place, and don't let anyone tell you different." "From what Boot tells me no one would dare," Chris said, which was perfect. And then, having heard us in the foyer, Father came gliding out from his study. He was wearing slippers and a smoking jacket, looking like he'd stepped out of a drawing-room comedy. Or perhaps more like Peter O'Toole the morning after a bender, with telltale shadows under his eyes and a look of deep disappointment. Nice to see you too, Pops. "Father," I said, "this is my friend Chris Morgen from school I told you about. Chris, this is my father, Telemachus Catsos." I knew what Chris was thinking: no wonder he named his kid Arbuthnot. Revenge. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Catsos. It's Chris Morgenfruh, actually. Boot wants me to change it and as far as he's concerned it's a done deal." My father looked up at Chris, squinting histrionically, and then switched his gaze to me. "He's rather large, isn't he?" he asked. I hate when Pops does this to people, talking about them like they're not there. "He hears and speaks perfectly well, Pops," I said. "You may address all such questions directly to him." He swiveled back to Chris and extended his hand, acting exasperated and perplexed for my benefit. "Well. Chris. Call me Telly. So what's your sport? Football, no doubt? Or the shot-t-t put-t-t?" He pounced on the consonants like he was spitting tobacco juice. "Not an athlete, I'm afraid," said Chris. "I'm studying engineering. We don't even build those fighting robots." Pops looked at me and said, "Grotesque misallocation of resources, isn't it?" A little snide, but this remark was also a sop to me, using business argot to show that we share an interest in something. Then he told Chris "No use fighting destiny, son. Biology is destiny. Take a look in the mirror." If Chris was baffled, he seemed not to care. Just another nuthouse. "Don't mind him," I said. "My father can be rude, but he figures that if he's cryptic enough then no one will notice." At this point Agnes' two granddaughters came in. How old were they now? Eleven, I think? Deirdre and Fiona are fraternal twins, and as always, they were determined to look different from each other — Deirdre in braids and Fiona in a ponytail, Deirdre in a classic tartan pinafore and Fiona in a cute skirt and a girly blouse. But with their auburn hair, freckles, green eyes and all that rosiness, it was really no use; they seemed like the same girl. They had come bounding into the foyer to greet me, but as soon as they glimpsed Chris, they stopped short and went shy, blushing and exchanging urgent whispers. "Girls," I said, "this is my friend Chris from college. Chris, this is Fiona, and this is Deirdre." They stood their ground with their eyes wide, not moving or speaking. Chris knelt down and said "Hi, Deirdre. Hi, Fiona." They walked up to him warily — first Deirdre, who curtseyed silently and then ran back to her place beside Fiona, and then Fiona, who looked him straight in the eyes. "Hi, Chris," she said. And then, before turning back, she reached out to Chris' left upper arm, the bicep, actually, as he knelt there. She seemed to wipe her hand on it, as if an ice cream cone had dripped on her. When she rejoined Deirdre, they had more to whisper about. Chris was wearing a long-sleeve button-down I ordered for him, so his arms were covered. Yet with her first glance at him Fiona seemed to take in secret information, and now Deirdre knew it too. They couldn't look away. His collar button was open, revealing just a bit of cleavage under his neck. Is that what they saw? What were they thinking? "Girls," said Agnes, "don't go back to the playroom now. Go upstairs and wash up. Dinner will be soon." "I think we should wait for Ginger and Brandy," said Pops. Agnes and I gave each other the eye-roll. "I don't think they're coming, Mr. Catsos," said Agnes. "Trust me, they're coming," said Pops. "They'll be here any minute. It wouldn't be Thanksgiving without — " "Don't say it, Pops," I said. "You sound like your friend Dubya with his weapons of mass destruction." My father and I don't see eye-to-eye on politics. "Ginger and Brandy aren't even in the country. They're in St. Barts." "They're not in St. Barts. I'm renting the St. Barts house this week." "They're at a resort, Pops. They wouldn't stay at the house even if you let them. Both families together, the girls, their husbands and your grandchildren. I talked to them this morning and they're having a really good time, and you can't blame them. Only you would try to use Thanksgiving as a way to break up two families. How could you think they would come here without their husbands and children?" "I don't consider them proper husbands. You know that. When a father's consent is withheld…" These whining moments are when he sounds like one of his wives. "It's like a tree falling when no one's there. I'm surprised they could even afford St. Barts without — " "Father, get over it! They're married ladies with loving husbands and good homes. They're raising children and getting on with their lives." I could hear Agnes in the dining room re-setting the table, removing place settings that my father must have insisted upon earlier. She was raising a clatter to distract us. Chris was smiling politely and looking around as if unperturbed, but I'm sure he wanted to sink into the limestone floor. A couple of times he looked up as if he were noticing or remembering something and he'd wander off for a bit, perhaps looking for a bathroom. I couldn't imagine the few of us gathering in that huge, cheerless dining room under the gilt-framed portraits of Pop's grandparents; I had to change the subject. "So Pops," I said, "I see the place still looks like crap. What happened to your redecorating?" "I fired the decorator," he said. "Another one? What is it with you?" "You're the one who told me that chemistry is everything with these consultative services," said Pops. "Anyway, it's an incredible racket. First she charges me $150 an hour, and every five-minute phone call is charged as an hour, and then she tacks a huge commission onto every purchase, and then she won't show me the original receipts — they're all her own internally generated documents. A twenty-one-point-seven percent commission on purchases? What a crock." "You've got to admit it sounds like a bit of a scam," said Chris. "You see that?" said Pops. "A man of judgment." "We could make these reception rooms look much better by ourselves in about ten minutes," said Chris. "Like that room over there?" He pointed to the great room, which opens off the foyer through an archway without doors. "It's enormous, how big is it?" "Who knows," said Pops. "Ask the decorator." "It must be over forty feet long," said Chris. "You've got some beautiful furniture in there, but you shouldn't just push it up against the walls. It looks like you've cleared the floor for a dance contest, there's no way for people to sit and talk to each other and rest a drink within reach. And here, a table like this — " We were still standing around in the foyer and he went over to an elaborate marble table with a pietra dura top that Pops' first wife had shipped over from Italy — "You don't put a spectacular table like this off to the side and put chairs next to it. A round table like this…is the top cemented on?" He tested the edge of the table as if it were a cigar. "It is. Too bad. A table like this is intended to go in the exact center of an entry space like this one, right under your lantern. That lantern is a very nice piece, by the way. Old. And these carpets are good, they're Kashans, you don't want to put a heavy table on top of…actually, they could be paired to frame a pathway from the door and define their spaces. You want to emphasize symmetry in a foyer…" He whisked one rug away from the room's center and then picked up the marble table with care and without apparent effort, one arm cradling the spiral pedestal base and the other hand gripping the top. He was so tender with it and it seemed so easy, how could anyone object? I happen to know it weighs hundreds of pounds, all inlaid marble, eighteenth century. He squatted to center the table under the hanging lamp and then fiddled with the rugs and chairs. My speechless father watched with his brow knitted and his eyes practically popping out of his head, as if he were observing a demonstration of nuclear fusion that might kill us all, while Chris loped around moving apparently weightless furniture and cheerfully talking about interior decoration. Pops said, "It took a crew of three men to move that table. Two hours and a lot of grunting and equipment. And a bill to match." "There," said Chris. "You put a silver tray on top of that table and it's ready for calling cards. And a glass urn or a bowl in the center. What do you think, guys?" Without question the foyer now was looking as originally intended by the society architect who designed it, but Pops remained silent. "Too bad nobody uses calling cards anymore," I said. "Well, let's go into that other room, do we have time?" said Chris. He went into the great hall, leaving me and my father alone. "So does this mean you're gay?" asked Pops. That took me by surprise and I burst out laughing with a snort, something I hate doing. "No, Pops. I mean to try gay sex one of these days, but not with Chris. He might kill me by accident." "You're going to have to choose between him and your Colombian call girl, my friend." "Pops, Chela is not a call girl, she's an interesting woman. You'd like her. She's smart, she's entrepreneurial, and she's really pretty. And she happens to be my girlfriend. How does it feel to go through life thinking the worst about everyone? It must be pathetic. Sad. Chris is my close friend. That's all he is. And by the way, I'm not your friend, I'm your son." Chris called out from the great hall: "Hey, Boot, you want to help me with this sofa?" But we continued to ignore him in favor of the Catsos family soap opera: Ginger, Brandy, my mother, their mothers. I don't know how much time Pops took with his serial accusations, though the worst thing he said about me is that I've never listened to him, and he's right about that. Then he doubled back and said, sotto voce, "So Chris is your close friend and he's your roommate. He's quite a specimen, without doubt. And you're not sleeping with him?" Chris called out from the great hall: "Never mind, Boot." This time I just smiled. "Chris is the last person you'd want to have sex with, gay or straight. That business with the marble table was nothing, he's stronger than you could possibly imagine. He controls it, but in good sex you lose control, and I don't want to be there. I don't want to be anywhere near it. Somebody's got to get hurt." "Don't be so overdramatic," said Pops. "What about those big Bulgarian weightlifters? Do you think they brutalize their big Bulgarian wives?" "Trust me," I said. "Chris is in a different league. He's a different species." My father looked pensive. "I don't want my only heirs to be kids in a household with two fathers." And just where the fuck was that coming from? I had just told him I haven't had gay sex yet. "Pops," I said, "you have three children and you've disinherited two, and now you're ready to disinherit the last one? The only one who still bears your name? You know, that's fine with me, but what about you? I'm barely nineteen and I'm financially independent. I'm happy to renounce my inheritance right now. Don't wait, give it to the United Fund at the Harvest Ball this Saturday, make a big splash. I'm always going to have all the money I want, no matter what the economy does. But what about you? Aren't you going to be kind of lonely? What a question. You're lonely already and you can't admit it to yourself or anyone else." Chris came back into the foyer wearing a puppy-dog smile and pretending not to hear us. "Step this way, gentlemen," he said, gesturing like Vanna White, and Pops and I were happy to cut off the melodrama and comply. Pops led the way into the great hall. "Good Lord in heaven," he said. "How in the world did you do this? Did you wave a wand?" I'm not sure I would have recognized his voice if he hadn't been standing there; he had probably never sounded so expressive or positive about anything. As for the room, it looked quite good. Not extraordinary for a big house, but still…quite good. Chris had grouped the furniture into seating areas that made sense. The two largest sofas were now facing each other from opposite sides of the shorter axis, perhaps fifteen feet apart, backed by console tables with lamps and vases in appropriate places. Who knew you could do that with a sofa, put space around it? Scattered about were smaller seating pieces and tables creating cozy little zones, looking as if we'd planned it that way all along. Or as if we'd worked it out after years of hospitality, when in fact my father hasn't entertained since his latest divorce. My favorite linen loveseat was grouped with a couple of chairs and a Canterbury with the ancient National Geographics still in it; my mother's Recamier was placed diagonally in a corner with a big fern behind it, ready for a reclining Olympia to strike her pose. And toward the other corner — "You know, I think he actually repositioned the piano?" I said. "Not much," said Chris. "You don't just shove a piano into a corner. You think it's all right where it is now? "All right? It's superb," said Pops. "I told you that decorator was a charlatan. Superb." "I don't know about that, but I think the room is improved," said Chris. "That may be the biggest fireplace I've ever seen." He didn't mention it's also the gloomiest. "What you need for it is called a fender. It's like an upholstered brass bench. I set up those wing chairs there as if you already had one." "I do have one," said Pops. "It's downstairs in storage, the decorator made me buy it. Eighteen thousand dollars. I thought it was ridiculous. I told her to take it back." "Is it old?" asked Chris. "She said it's antique," said Pops. "If it's a good one that might be a good deal," said Chris. "We should set it up and see how it looks. A new one could cost you two-thirds that much and it's not as good an investment." I hadn't sat down since we arrived, and I desperately wanted to. But first I went over to Chris and put my hand on his shoulder, a reach upward for me. Any excuse to touch him — wherever you put your hand, it's always a jolt, bigger and harder than you expect. "Earth to Chris," I said, as I sometimes do. "Slow down. It's Thanksgiving." It was partly just an excuse to feel his delt and make sure it was still as hard as I remembered after all the decorating talk, which seemed somehow feminizing. But this time, as always, touching him provided a shock. Not that it's happened that often…it hasn't. But even Chris says they always surprise, his muscles, I mean, no matter how you try to imagine them. I had felt smug about getting him button-down shirts bespoke from Pinks, to camouflage his size from my father, but that game might be over. Imagine him tossing those sofas around! Some of them are at least eight feet long. How did he lift them? Did he take his shirt off while he was working? I wish I had been watching. We would have heard if he'd dragged anything. He hadn't, yet nothing had stayed where it was. "Where did all this decorating jive come from, Chris?" I asked him. "My mother trained as an architect and she practiced for a while as an interior designer," he said. "Not for some years now, but I learned a lot as a kid. Let's go get that fender for your dad, yes?" Luckily, before I could even start saying 'no,' Agnes came in to announce dinner. It turned out she had done a little redecorating of her own. In our dining room, which looks like a place where knights would assemble before going out to kill people, we have two big library tables pushed together to serve as a refectory table. But Agnes had pulled them apart and positioned them side by side, with one set up as a buffet and the other with chairs for the six of us. It was too big, but not absurdly so, and the room looked brighter than I had ever seen it, with white cloths on both tables. I said, "Agnes, you sly devil, look what you've done! It's beautiful." Centered amidst all the side dishes, a flawless turkey dominated the buffet table. There were steam trays on one side, cold dishes on the other. We all clucked admiringly and watched as Agnes handed the carving set to my father. "Watch that knife, boyo," she said. "She's sharp as the winter wind. I sharpened her up." My father handed the set over to me. "My son carves a bird superbly," he said. What came over him, to say something so nice? He had indeed taught me to carve poultry well, and here he was using the same word, 'superb,' to describe my prowess and that of the stranger in our midst. I tried to think of other things he had taught me: to blend Sherry, yes. To play chess, yes. To throw a ball, no. "Thanks, Pops," I said. It had been a long time, but I zeroed in on the joints just as I'd been taught: one leg, one thigh, one wing, some dark slices removed, some breast slices next, one side left pristine for later. Only when I had arranged these parts on a separate platter did we all take our plates and gather at the buffet table. "If you don't mind," said Agnes, "in my family we say grace, and I would like to say that we feel honored to be sharing this meal with the Catsos family and we also feel honored to be enjoying it in a country where everyone is free to believe as they choose, and we'd like to take a moment of silence for each of us to give thanks in our own way." We hadn't been silent very long when Fiona piped up. "And I would like to thank our dear Lord for bringing us our new friend Chris," she said, sounding somehow authoritative yet childish, like the biggest kid on the playground. Her words touched me deeply, and I said "that's a beautiful grace, Fiona," but I don't think she even noticed I was speaking. She was staring intently at Chris. "I know your secret," she told him, with a look of deep seriousness. Her cute little hand was clenched in a fist.

Long time no post…this story continues a multi-part narrative with two main characters, Chris and Boot, who met as freshman dorm-mates at the University of Wisconsin. This section picks up the story when Chris, the less-worldly of the two, suddenly finds that it's the week before Thanksgiving break. -------------- Chris Changes His Mind The Tuesday before Thanksgiving week, an odd thing happened in my favorite lecture. The class is "Physics for Engineers," so-called because it's taught by the same guy who teaches "Physics for Poets" — Shmuel Feinberg, more commonly known as Dr. Shmuelly. Everyone loves him and he's the go-to guy for local TV stations when they want someone to explain, say, a comet or global warming. He starts all of our lectures with a joke or riddle related to some aspect of physical mechanics, and you can come back to him weeks later with a clever solution and still get credit for it. This time he says "Question, class," as he generally does, and then "Let's say you happen to be walking along Fuhrmann Row very early one morning and you happen to see Chris Morgenfruh across the street holding the rear bumper of a late-model Mini Cooper with both hands and lifting it by moving only his lower arms by pivoting upward from the elbows." About half the heads in the big lecture hall swivel around and look at me, which surprises me, because I didn't think anyone knew who I was, since there are no other freshmen in the class. "It may help those of you who are gym rats to know that he is performing curls," he says. "What I want to know is this: If you know that the weight of the Mini Cooper is thirty-two hundred pounds, what else do you need to know in order to compute the effective weight that Mr. Morgenfruh is lifting, and how would you do it?" Usually people jump all over these questions, but now the room was quiet. "How about you, Mr. Freeman?" said Dr. Shmuelly. "You're usually full of ideas." "I'd have to know what hallucinogens I'd taken before I left the dorm," Freeman said. A few people laughed. "What about it, Mr. Morgenfruh?" said Dr. Shmuelly. "Can you think of anything?" "First I'd want to know exactly where the car's center of gravity is located," I said. "Good, and why would you want to know that?" "Because if I'm lifting from the rear, the front wheels are acting as a fulcrum and I'd want to know how much weight is on each side of the fulcrum." "A fulcrum? Really? When I said your forearms were pivoting from your elbows, that was a hint." A pivot, it turns out, is not necessarily a fulcrum. And if the center of gravity is forty percent of the way back, you're not lifting sixty percent of the weight — "why would it be linear, Mr. Morgenfruh? Why does it matter how far forward the front wheels are?" When I didn't answer, he asked "What about the angle of rotation, would you also want to know about that?" "Yes," I said. "Why?" "Because if I didn't you wouldn't have asked me." Laughter. "Why oh why am I so generous with hints. This isn't hard, people. Imagine instead of a car it's a tube or a bar of equivalent weight. It could be ten feet long, or fifty, and Mr. Morgenfruh is standing at one end. The actual weight is the same, the distance he moves his end is the same, but the angle of rotation is smaller if the bar is longer. Does that make a difference in the amount of force Mr. Morgenfruh must exert in order to do his curls?" "Twenty-two pounds!" Freeman called out. "No, wait. That was his birth weight." Nervous laughter. Eventually a number of teams — the lab section is divided into teams — a number of teams came up with answers that were quite close to each other's, but some methods were much more complicated than others. The guys who are good at calculus will take any excuse to use it, but it turned out to be optional in this case. At the end of the lecture we circled back to the Mini Cooper and Dr. Shmuelly buttonholed me as we were leaving. "Do you have time to walk with me to my office?" he asked. This was a great thing. Only his favorite students take the walk, and his favorite students get A's. "Sure," I said. "I wanted to apologize for the appetizer," he said. That's what he calls his quizzes — appetizers. "I'm sorry if it was embarrassing. In the middle of it I realized I shouldn't have used your name, but by then it was too late to turn back. Vietnam syndrome, I got in too deep." Should I let him know that I didn't mind? "No problem," I said. His office was about the size of a bathroom with two chairs instead of one and, of course, books everywhere. Despite the digital revolution, scientists continue to churn out books. "I like your desk," I told him, "what I can see of it." An old Steelcase desk, battleship grey, with grey linoleum inset in the top. "I love this thing," he said. "I know you've got an eye. I do, too. You know that cliché about students getting younger every year? That really is how it seems." He's probably still in his 30s himself, young for a full professor. I suppose you could say his face looks like the map of Israel — big nose, curly brown hair — but I like him just like everybody else does. "One of the perks of this job is the people-watching. Big campuses like this one draw exotic creatures from all over the world. Students with every kind of good looks." He waved his hand to indicate a quote: "Rejoice, o young man, in thy youth; remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth." I couldn't tell where the conversation was going and asked him if he wanted the door closed. "Certainly not," he said. "You'll learn that faculty rarely close their office doors when conferring with students these days. Especially with attractive students." He's an odd mix of formality and informality. Keeps you on your toes. "Attractive?" I said. "I'm not really attractive." He chortled, but not in a derisive way. "I should know better than to talk to adolescents about their looks," he said. "Have you met Miss Spaeth?" "Linda Spaeth, with the perfect eyebrows?" They're perfectly arched and razor-sharp, as if they'd been cut with a laser. I knew who she was but didn't know her. "It's not just her eyebrows that are perfect," he said. "Dark eyes like burning coals, jet-black hair, olive skin, symmetrical features, bee-stung lips. If only a silent film director could have seen her. She looks like an Arabian princess, and maybe she is. I know her mother is Iraqi and her parents aren't here. I think you two are a couple of the most amazing-looking creatures I've ever seen. I envision you together in a medieval romance from the time of the Crusades. You're a knight…Percival, I'd say. Heroic but naive." "Linda is what my mother would call Reubenesque," I said. "Don't be limited by stereotyped thinking. Use your eyes." "You sound just like her," I said. "Who, Linda or your mother? I've never heard either of them. Anyway, that's neither here nor there. I've been watching you since the beginning of the semester. And when I say watching…I was really pissed off when I saw you in the first lecture, a freshman jock. It had to be a mistake." "Stereotyped thinking?" "Exactly. And then the gentlemen on Fuhrmann Row." "Frat guys?" "Yes, I heard them talking." "They're full of it. They were probably drunk. I did some tricks at one of the frat houses on a bet. Indoors, not with a car." "And how did you get such incredible development? Are you a football player?" I was sure that the next question would be about steroids, but perhaps because the door was open, he didn't ask it. "I am pretty stringent about working out," I said, "but I'm as far from being a football player as you can get. Since my early teens I've been sort of experimenting on myself with exercise and diet and tracking the results to correlate with various metrics, very simple ones, but numerous, so the algorithm itself gets rather complex — work, rest, nutrition, BMI, trying to correlate everything to strength in every possible way. But I'm the only test subject and the experiment doesn't exactly meet laboratory standards. And no advanced biochemicals. Which is not to say…" "I think I get it," he said. "With a computer you made yourself, no doubt. Still…in all my years teaching undergrads and grad students I've never come across a physique like yours. You know how spectacular it is, right? Percival was sort of blind to certain things about himself." "With all due respect, Dr. Shmuelly, how do you know? I'm totally on the DL. I never wanted to be an object of display on campus, and I keep covered up, and this is a huge school, and I've got a rich roommate who knows all about dressing who helps me dress not to stand out." "I would say, with all due respect, don't be fucking ridiculous. You can't hide what you are from anybody, let alone someone in the physical sciences. I would refer you to Faraday. You've read him?" "Well, I know who he was." "He wrote a seven-volume reference called 'Observations of a Burning Candle.' Or I would refer you to the wisdom of Yogi Berra, who said 'You can observe a lot just by watching.' Twice a week since September I've seen you standing, sitting, moving, sitting still. If I could draw, I could draw every detail of your body with utter confidence. Which is pretty far afield from the apology. I'm not done with that." "Really? Why not? Unless you want to make it seven volumes." He handed me a metal box, the kind that Band-Aids come in. "Don't open it," he said. "Just shake it. What would you say is inside?" There was a fair amount of change in it; it was probably where he tossed loose coins from his pockets. "Coins," I said. "A couple of dollars' worth, maybe." "How do you know?" "Oh, I don't know. The weight, the sound. Not sure." "You've observed a lot about coins and the sound they make in your eighteen years of life without realizing it. And now you're making an approximation based on a lot of variables without being fully aware of what they are. Do you know of these little correspondence groups that speculate on unexplained phenomena? They're like playing chess by mail, scientists who write to each other about things that seem impossible. Like proving what seemed to be a UFO was actually the result of atmospheric conditions. Sometimes we see an unexplained phenomenon and don't even take notice until later. It takes some analysis." "I play Sudoku sometimes," I said, but I don't think he knew I was joking. "I wrote to a couple of groups about the incident on Fuhrmann Row as if I had seen it. I didn't use your name. You were Mr. M." "And? Anything interesting come out of it?" "Not really. Not unless there was a baby trapped under the car. But after the appetizer this morning I feel I should have left you out of it entirely. Out of both." "Nah, don't worry about it," I said. "Especially if it helps me in class." He looked surprised. "You don't need help in class. You know you're acing my course, right?" "Really?" "What am I always saying, Morgenfruh? Be logical. You've done well on every test and every quiz except one. How could you not be doing well? And do you know how fortunate it is for me that you are doing well? I think you're a standup guy and a self-made guy, and that's fine, but students will do anything they can to turn something a professor does into a transgression, and then to use it as leverage. And in classes that are graded, the grades should be earned. Especially in the sciences, in which we strive to be objective about things and measure carefully. As scientists we can lose everything if we give in to the temptation to lie about measurements, so…" "Not following, Dr. Shmuelly. And getting kind of dizzy." "I'm just saying that I can't look like I'm raising your grade because you've got this incredible body. And I shouldn't have used your name in the appetizer, because that could appear to be out of line. About midway through I thought 'this could've bitten me in the ass if he weren't doing so well in class and somebody thought I was doing him favors.' So I'm thanking you for being a good student." "Are you gay or something?" "No, but still. I'm really curious. Not bi-curious," he laughed, "but scientifically curious. God, I am so glad I left the door open, you know? I'm normally quite articulate… So, anyway, is there a correlation between the size of a muscle and its strength?" "Well, of course there is. A big guy is going to be stronger than a skinny guy." "A direct correlation?" "Not at all," I said. "A power lifter may be a lot stronger than a bodybuilder with bigger muscles, at least for the isolated, explosive movements that power lifters do. And then there's rock climbers." "What about rock climbers?" "They are incredibly strong and pretty thin. Strong for sustained work. And there's cyclists, though sometimes their legs…sometimes power lifters just look like fat guys. You'd never know how strong they are." "Could you? Could you tell by looking?" "No," I said. Dr. Shmuelly picked up the Band-Aid container and shook it. "You sure?" he asked. "Definitely," I said. "I don't know," he said…"You were pretty close on the change can." He paused with that look he gets when he's thinking up a quiz. "What's strength? What do you measure on yourself?" "It's basically the ability to do work, right?" I said. "I index the weight of twenty repetitions of a movement to exhaustion." That's my current headache — the metrics have changed over the years, and now I'm just estimating until I find a new system. I felt that hot, prickly feeling and knew I was blushing. My face was in my hands. I didn't realize it until Dr. Shmuelly said "Mr. Morgenfruh, what's wrong," which made me even more embarrassed. "It's nothing bad," I said. "It's just that…to tell you the truth, the metrics…it was originally ten repetitions to exhaustion, but I'm limited by my equipment." "You can't do all the movements you want to do?" I shook my head. "Twenty reps is really too many, especially when doing multiple sets," I said. "But even adapting the exercises to make them more difficult, the maximum weights available to me aren't heavy enough anymore. They haven't been for a while now, so I'm increasing the reps and the duration of each one…it's really kind of a problem." I had never seen Dr. Shmuelly with a faraway stare like that. "You're too strong for exercise machines," he said, not looking at me. "Not for all of them. There's equipment that works electromagnetically, it's actually pretty fabulous, but I've never seen it in person. Some of it was adapted from cargo scales. Look, Ma, no weights." He looked back at me as if coming out of a trance. "So how much could you lift with that curling motion that the guys on Fuhrmann Row saw you do? Twenty repetitions to exhaustion?" "I'll take the fifth on that," I said. "Not telling." "Fair enough. Let's measure the circumference of your bicep," he said. "Push your sleeve up. Have you tracked it over time?" "First of all," I said, "you don't measure the circumference of the bicep. You measure the circumference of the arm at the point where the bicep peaks. Second of all, no." "No what?" "No to both. I haven't tracked it over time, and let's not measure it now." "You could just tell me. I'll believe you." "No I couldn't, because I don't know." "Mr. Morgenfruh, you designed this experiment and you've shown great initiative with it, so far be it from me to — to criticize — but don't you think you've left out an important parameter?" I felt the prickly feeling come back. Why was his interrogation bothering me? I don't tell anyone about how I run the strength project, not even Boot. But if I didn't find a way to increase the resistances, the whole thing might be at a dead end. "Not interested," I said. "Anyway, it's too late now." "Not really," he said. "You could start now and after a few months I could take a look at the data and see if there's any way to extrapolate back a bit…for that matter, I could see if there's any of that fancy-dancy electromagnetic resistance equipment on campus. We have everything here, it's just a matter of finding out where. Would you be interested in that?" When I didn't respond, he said "You know, the more I talk, the more I seem to have to apologize to you. It's totally your baby, I didn't mean to pressure you in any way. This is what scientific curiosity does to us sometimes. What I should really have said…I don't know. I expected to be giving you advice. Did you know that students come to me for advice, sometimes years after they've taken my class? But advice seems like the last thing you need." "I'm not surprised your students come back to you, or that you're popular. You're my all-time favorite teacher, at least so far," I told him truthfully. "And I can use all the advice that I can get." "Well, my advice to you is to be a little less secretive. We live in a culture that loves super-heroes, and here you are hiding your light under a bushel. I think you should show off that incredible body a little, and have a lot more fun than I think you're having. But then, what do I know? Not as much as I thought in your case." He opened his laptop, cuing me to leave. "Though I may have inadvertently fueled some speculation about how much you can curl." That seemed doubtful, but whatever. It could be good for the job at Boston Charlie's. I stood up. "Thanks, Dr. Shmuelly," I said with all the dignity I could muster. "Thanks for being a great professor. I've only been on campus for three months and I'm having a great time already. And for the record," I added, "you can't really do curls with a Mini Cooper's rear bumper. There's no place to get a grip. To do curls you need to get a good handhold. A Jeep is good, or an SUV." I smiled a sly grin, another thing my father hates, without actually looking at Dr. Shmuelly, but with his eye, he probably noticed. If there were big electromagnetic machines on campus, Boot could probably find them as well as Dr. Shmuelly. Hell, he probably knew about them already. Something else was bugging me, and that was Dr. Shmuelly telling me I shouldn't be so secretive, that I should show off more. I like to think I'm honest with myself, but he and his sharp eye had noticed the contradiction about the strength project: I avoid knowing exactly how strong I am and I avoid looking at myself. I don't check myself out in the mirror, I don't even glance at my reflection in store windows when I pass by. I tell myself it's not important, but it's really a matter of avoidance. And now, with my exercises on a self-imposed plateau, I didn't even have data on my usual strength indices, let alone…I went back to my dorm room, stripped down to my basic white briefs, determined to take a good look at myself in the mirror on my bedroom door. And when I did, my prick sprang to attention and got harder than a steel rod. No girl and no fantasy has ever done it for me like my own body. I think that's why I avoid looking at it; something about that seems wrong. But that's not the only reason I don't look. The other is delayed gratification. When I actually do look at it, it's always beyond what I imagined — the width of my shoulders and the way my delts cap them off, the pecs, big and square-cut like Boot's lesbian photographer friend said, the exaggerated diagonal arcs connecting shoulders and waist, the abs perfectly lined up and deeply cut…everything so deeply cut and complex. Getting excited just looking at myself, I was exhilarated yet embarrassed. But showing off had Dr. Shmuelly's seal of approval, and besides, just what the fuck was anyone going to do about it? Say something to me? To tell you the truth, everything was going my way at U of W and everyone seemed to like me right off. Back in high school my guidance counselor, Dr. Veit — nice guy — said he admired how I had turned my life around, but that at a big, social campus like Wisconsin I'd find I wasn't the biggest guy around and not the smartest either, that college takes you down a peg or two. Well, guess what, Dr. Veit? Wrong! I went to the dresser and struck a relaxed pose with an elbow on the dresser-top and a hip jutting out, and except for the ridiculous tent in my briefs, I looked…very sexy. What did I have to worry about? It made sense for me to get off on my own body; it's better than anyone else's. I thought about every time I heard a guy refer to his arms as 'guns…' To call your arms guns, they should look like mine, with the separation between the shoulders and arms, the bi's and tri's so pronounced it looks like they're assembled from separate parts. I could walk around in my briefs all the time, all over campus, and who's going to say anything? As if on cue, Boot walks into the suite. "Chris? Chris, you here?" "In my room." I didn't move from my stance, leaning against the dresser. He opened my door and said "holy shit." I said, "I am what is called huge. Right? That's the technical term for it. In case you hadn't noticed." "Hadn't noticed? You are all ripped, all huge, all the time. And in case you hadn't noticed, I testified the first time I laid eyes on you." "Yeah, well…I'm always bigger than I thought, if you know what I mean. You know what I'd like?" "I'm afraid to ask. How about a car? A friend of mine is looking to practically give away a really nice Jaguar I wanted to tell you about. I think you should have a car, don't you? I am imagining you shirtless in a nice Jag. We could do a new calendar." "Shut up. What I'd like is for you to hit me. Hit me as hard as you can." "Dude, are you kidding me? The last thing in this world I am about to do is hit you. Not in this world and not in the next." "Come on. I want you to. Hit me anywhere you like. Knock me down. Or try to, anyway. "Dude —" I'm not sure I'd ever heard him use the word 'dude' before, at least, not referring to me. "Hit me. Or do you want me to hit you and knock you down?" "No way." "Then hit me. I promise I won't hit you back. And you know me, I keep my promises." "But why, for Christ's sake?" "Because sometimes I think the guys at Boston Charlie's are plants and they're holding back. I want to see if it will hurt. Come on." There was a long silence, considering it was Boot — at least fifteen seconds. "Extra credit if you inflict pain or knock me down," I said. "Kinky," he said. "So if you were me, what would you go for? What part of the body?" "The gut, I think. If you go for my face — at Boston Charlie's, when they go for my face I've been catching their fists and breaking the bones. It's like a reflex. The surgery is expensive and it takes a long time to heal, or so I'm told." "There's a size difference between us, if you hadn't noticed." "Come on, you're a fit guy. If you do it, I'll go with you to your father's for Thanksgiving." Another silence. "Okay, deal. Running start?" There wasn't that much space to run, just the ten feet or so from my door to the dresser. But instead of waiting for a reply, he suddenly ran at me with his fist cocked and plowed it into my stomach with a downward motion, as if he were trying to drive a lance into the ground. His momentum pushed me back into the dresser, but I didn't feel much, just something brushing between my abs. He winced dramatically and yelled, "shit! Shit! What did you do, implant a board in there? Damn." He was circling around the small room like a wounded animal, with his hands between his legs as he walked. "You're exaggerating, right? It can't have hurt that much. You pushed me back and that took some of the impact." He looked up at me with a sulky, accusing gaze. "Engineers are such assholes," he said. "You can't get out of the trip now, you know." I probably would've wound up going in any case, but I wasn't telling him that. "Does it really hurt? Should we get you some medical attention?" "You know that feeling when you stub your toe? I feel like I stubbed my hand. Maybe I'm being just a tad overly demonstrative, but…friends shouldn't do shit like this to each other, okay, dude?" "Why am I suddenly a dude?" He was still sulking. "I don't know. What about you? Did you even feel it in the slightest when I hit you with all my might?" "Yes, I felt it." "Good." "It didn't hurt, but I did feel it." "Mother of God," he said. I think at this point his annoyance was feigned. He raised his hand as if it were a gun, aimed it at me, and mimed firing it. "What do you suppose would happen?" "I don't know. My skin can be punctured, I get paper cuts. But the muscle underneath…I don't know. Try poison gas, I think that would work better." Those troublemakers at Boston Charlie's, especially on weekends and Thursdays — their best efforts felt like Boot's abortive punch to the gut, and I was thinking that maybe I should I be more careful not to hurt them. My erection had subsided now, but as I raised my right arm into a bicep flex, it sprang right back. My arms are kind of magnificent. "Holy shit," said Boot. I raised the other one to form a pose known as a double-bi, and I felt like exulting in what I saw in the mirror. Now I wanted Boot to clear out of my room so I could jerk off, but what would it matter if I did it while he was still there? What did I have to feel embarrassed about? Who looks even remotely like me? "Dude," I said, "how big do you think these things are? Should we find out?"

The Growth II (All characters 18+) It was a long three days of testing for Jake in the medical division. He felt like a lab animal being studied at every angle. His enormous body lying on a modified examining table to support the tremendous weight he now carries, taking several crew members to assist in moving or transferring him. The technicians and doctors were pacing all around him, taking various blood samples, reviewing heart rhythms, and extracting few small biopsies. The same group of people that was working so diligently and calm now were in utter shock when they first saw him. A huge mass of a man with muscles so large you would have thought they belonged to mythical creature. They were glistening with sweat as his huge chest heaved up and down. They desperately tried to find a way to get him out of his room; ultimately removing part of the wall next to the door. He could hardly walk, two people needed to be at each side to support him. With each step his thick heavy cock would swing over and slap one of the crew members, even knocking one of them down. Once in the department, Jake was of course, too large for everything. He broke nearly everything they tried to use on him. Equipment was reinforced and double the supplies were brought in to accommodate the newly enlarged man. Jake was still trying to adjust to moving his limbs and body with his increased size, still working with improving his coordination. He lifted his arm, expecting to see his normal toned limb, but saw instead a massive length of flesh and muscle. His biceps and triceps seemingly had expanded away from each other with each sporting deep curves and cuts; he could tell the bone structure and density had both grown, all in support of the new contractile tissue. As Jake put his arm back down he could feel someone at his leg poking and drawing another sample, but unable to see anyone below as his massive pecs blocked the view. He slightly sighed as he considered what was to become of him; possibly just a freak at the zoo where people could pay to see him. Just as he thought of closing his eyes, Dr. Matton appeared next to him with the division commander Colonel Thomas Jackson. "Good morning Lt. Smith." Matton said looking down at Jake. He looked back up, seeing the Colonel he tried to salute but had difficulty getting his hand up on account of his thick bicep and shoulder. "It's aright son," saluting back "I understand your circumstances." He skipped the small talk and turned towards the doctor, using a stern voice, "What I don't understand though is how these circumstances came to be." "Well sir, at this point, we honestly don't know. We've examined everything we could have, but nothing indicated abnormalities. Uh, besides the tremendous increase in muscle mass, there's technically nothing wrong with him." Matton stated as he unfolded his arms to his lab coat pockets. Jackson looked over to the doctor, "Medically he may be normal, but at this point he wouldn't be considered close to that in his combat unit. The equipment, gear, and transport pods were not designed to support a 450lb soldier; he would be putting himself and his men at risk." He turned back and looked down again at Jake. "As much as I hate to do this to a decorated officer, it is within my responsibility to take you out of active service." Jake briefly shut his eyes, "So... does that mean I'm just done sir, out of my unit and left to be a disgusting freak?" "No Lieutenant, there's actually another position I've had you in mind for. A new orbiting station academy has been constructed in the Gamma sector. It will house some of the finest cadets who are to be prepped for battle divisions through the entire fleet. Of course, we will need good leadership to make it the best. How would you feel being our new Commandant? You of course would be promoted to Captain. Jake was silent in thought for a moment, figuring this would his only option, he nodded, "Yes sir, I'd be privileged." "Excellent, I'll give the news to Command. The crew will be anticipating your arrival." Colonel Jackson gave a quick reciprocating salute. He turned to leave just as he mentioned to Dr. Matton, "Be sure to keep observation on Lt. Smith after he is discharged from you division, I don't want there being something important we missed, got it?" Without hesitation, Matton agreed, "Yes sir." The room cleared of the Colonel's staff as the doctor looked at Jake again, "You ready to get out of here?" Jake's huge chest slightly bounced with his head movement. "Let's do it." Jake found his new residence aboard the Bia, a newly constructed orbiting academy. It was the largest of its kind; however, a full enlistment was not given. The higher command was considering this the test run with an initial class of almost 100 cadets. Most were in their late teens coming directly out of primary education, but ranging to older students who were looking for officer training. Jake undressed from his formal uniform in his quarters after having just addressed the cadets in the assembly hall. Despite having worked on a good speech, there was a lack of full attention as the students could only stare at the beast of a commander standing in front of them. This was considered amazement as the biggest guys aboard besides Jake were the highly athletic cadets, but only weighing in at a mere 220lbs. Although, Jake had figured his reception would be close to what he received, he was actually more worried about tearing out of his uniforms by moving too far in one direction. A few buttons did pop off of his shirt under his jacket when he reached over for his water. A result from his chest that was so ballooned out that the metals on his jacket were sitting at a large tilt. This was still after receiving an entire new wardrobe to fit his massive figure; all having to be custom made. Dressed in his PT clothes he headed to the mess hall. His walk had a staggered waddle to it as his massive thighs brushed against each other with each step. Going past a darkened classroom that had a large observation window panel, he could see his reflection. What he saw was a man that was bulging out of his uniform; bulbous, striated quads that pushed up the seam of his shorts, his huge arms that pulled the sleeves of his t-shirt to make it almost sleeveless, as his thick hanging chest pulled the fabric down so much it looked like a deep cut v-neck. What was even more revealing was that it was almost impossible to hide his crotch basket. It looked light two grape fruits and a soft, thick foot-long bratwurst stuffed into his shorts. He walked into the cafeteria, grabbing a tray as he proceeded to dish it up, piling loads of food on to match his appetite. He walked out to the seating area, only to realize that every eye in there was staring at him. Jake continued on as he looked down at a group of younger cadets, "You boys mind if I sit here?" They quickly moved their trays, giving plenty of room, "No...no sir." The nervous cadet stammered. "Anderson sir, Tommy Anderson." "Nice meeting you cadet." He looked on at the others around him that didn't make a sound for considerable moment. "Well, you don't have to talk all at once..." He smiled as he took a few large bites, his giant arm flexing up with each motion. The chair creaking beneath him with his huge ass swallowing the seat. "Jimmy." A brown haired boy nervously stated. "Christopher, my friends call me Chris." The other chimed in as Jake nodded. "Zach." The one sitting next to him followed. "St...Steve." The final one said. "You boys must be good at roll call in the morning." Jake smiled. It was quiet mostly through the meal, but more conversing started once Jake made some jokes, finding where all the cadets were from and all the small talk you'd typically hear with meeting someone new. Jake thought to himself that he could get used to this, not as exciting as his previous unit, but something he could find himself enjoying nonetheless. It was a relaxed evening as the students attended orientation meetings with faculty and staff, learned their way around the station and met up with their cabin mates. Jake headed down to the fitness center, a state of the art training facility that fit every need, hoping to get in a workout before lights out. He saw a group of cadets that were finding their way around and trying out some of the equipment as he proceeded to warm-up on the squat rack. As he finished a set at 405lbs, a few students came up behind him while others whispered about the size of his thighs which were already getting pumped up, tugging on his already tight fitting shorts. "Wow, how much can you do on this sir?" He looks back to see a small crowd forming. "What, squat?" He looks at his current poundage, which didn't feel like much of a struggle at all. "I'm not sure, suppose we could find out..." He slapped on more weight and pumped out more reps. "Hopefully I won't break anything." He smiled as he added even more. More start to gather as Jake grinds out two more sets, the last at 750lbs. "Sir, you gettin' tired yet?" "Actually, no...a little sweaty though" He put more weight on as his smooth skin started to glisten, his dark grey shirt getting darker with his sweat...emitting an actual scent others had never smelled before. It was heavy musk...something so unusual that the only way to describe it would be raw testosterone...causing some of the cadet's heart rates to increase and even sport slight wood in their shorts. He took a deep breath with 920lbs on his massive traps as the bar was arching and started to rep out deep squats, "Eight....eghhh nine...." He grunted as he kept his form strong, his huge barrel of a chest popping out with his massive ass leading the powerful extension drive. "...ahghhh...ten." He racked the bar. His quads were so engorged with blood, every separation was highly visible...a tear drop that was bigger than his head...hamstrings that were thick as a ships anchor rope...and calves that looked like giant, overinflated footballs. He couldn't resist, he did more and more, getting up to 1200lbs. The bar was ready to snap as he moaned with the sheer force pressing down on him, clearing another 10 repetitions. Just as he ascending from the last rep, the bar finally gave way to the stress and bent in half like a small wire, causing all the plates to go slamming to the floor. With a thunderous roar Jake let it all fall behind him as his swollen thighs finally caused his shorts to split clear open down his ass cleft, exposing a huge meaty muscle rump; each cheek bigger than an average man's entire set. Firm, round and smooth they stared back at the group. He just stood there dripping with sweat, breathing heavily, as he tried to cover his huge genitals with what he had left of his shorts. The cadets went speechless after cheering and shouting him on, looking at their commander's godlike figure. "Uh...think that's it for now...you boys' best hit the showers and turn in for the night." Jake placed his hand on the wall, facing away as the cadet filed out, still turning their heads and looking back, some in amazement while some in disbelief. Jake managed to slip out of the training facility and back to his quarters without being seen by any other personnel, wiping himself down with stray towels he found on the way. The walk was extremely difficult as he could hardly advance his insanely pumped thighs. After making it back, he stood in his shower, feeling the warm water run down the tall peaks and deep valleys across his body. He just then started to feel an increased state of arousal as it became increasingly intoxicating. Still recovering from the intense lifting he did, this appeared to come from now where. His large nut sac ached as he felt a rhythmic surge through his entire crotch. He shut off the water and began toweling himself down; the sensation became stronger as his long soft shaft started to harden. Jake found himself not able to think clearly, he'd been horny before, but nothing like this. A full mast hard-on grew between his legs, swelling up past a foot. It didn't stop there however. "Ohh, fuck..." Jake moaned, squeezing his balls, which had become incredibly tender; he was even cringing and digging his toes into the floor just by giving a light touch to his hardening dick. It thickened even more, pulling the skin on it so tight which made it even sorer. He hadn't seen it this big before since the first time he grew...it lengthened to just over two feet and thickened to the size of a drainage pipe. It hardened so much that it was pressing against his ripped abs and sinking itself between his pec cleavage. "Shit...ughhhh....oh please." He moaned even louder in his deep rich voice. He was becoming disoriented and couldn't concentrate on anything except his new sexual drive. Grabbing his head and running his hands through his jet black hair, Jake groaned, "Oh please, stop!" He was actually starting to hear a voice in his head, a clear and specific voice giving him directions. "Yes...yes please, I'll do anything..." he was talking to the empty room. "I'll obey you sir, your every order....aghh, I am yours..." Just then a small knock was heard at the door. Jake was able to spare some attention as he replied, "Mghh...Yes..?" "Jimmy sir, I was ordered to bring you new towels for your washroom sir..." The young cadet spoke. "Uh, yeah, just...ugh, just set them in here, that'll be fine." Jake was turned behind a post, trying to hide the massive erection, just as clear pre-cum started to ooze out. Jimmy entered, placing the towels on his bed. "Permission to speak freely sir?" The fresh face nineteen year old looked over. "Yeah...go ahead." Jake winced hoping he'd just leave. "I just wanted to say that was an awesome demonstration in the weight room today sir." He walked over, trying to see Jake. "The other guys and I were talking about since we left and uh..." Jimmy saw the commander, sweaty, and with biggest, hardest cock he'd ever seen. "I...uh...sorry sir...I didn't mean..." But he was still too shocked to move, not sure whether to shut his eyes or just run. Jake then felt a warm flush go from his toes to his head, trickling down to his boner as he smiled. "No, it's okay, don't worry about it." "I should go..." Jimmy blushed as he turned to leave. "Hey, wait right there son." He walked around the post with his huge throbbing shaft aiming out at the cadet. "Probably never seen one this big?" The huge bell like head pulsed, as small amounts of pre-cum dripped out, stretching as a long drop to the floor. "N...no sir, I never..." Jimmy's face still blushed and his heart racing. Jake pulled it out towards him, having grown an extra six inches since he walked in. "Touch it..." Jake said in an almost whisper. "Sir?" Jimmy looked worried, turning around and looking at the door. "Touch the fucking cock cadet...that's an order..." Jake raised his voice. Jimmy moved in, his hand shaking as he ran it across the smooth warm surface of Jake's huge python. He could smell that same scent again, stinging his nostrils, causing Jimmy to harden in his shorts. "Good, good...you like it?" Jake smiled back. "Ye...yes sir." Jimmy said, finding himself running both hands up and down the long shaft, brushing his face across it while giving it gentle licks. He worked his way up to the full head, running his tongue into the deep slit. "Mmm, fuck Jimmy...service this beast." Jake closed his eyes in ecstasy as Jimmy suddenly stuffed his entire hand inside the shaft. "Ughhh, fuck yeah! Don't stop there cadet..." Jimmy felt a huge adrenaline rush come over him as he felt his hand move around inside Jake's warm slit. Jimmy grinned a bit as he slide his arm in and out as it was covered in warm clear pre-cum. He was giving slow stroking motions, varying his speed. Listening to the moans of Jake to determine how he should move. His own hard-on reached full max as he then slid both arms down as a large gush of pre splashed out all over him. Some got into his mouth as it swished around his tongue. It tasted incredible, like a warm exotic honey no human should ever be able to taste. The sensory centers in his brain overloaded as he shot a syrupy load in his shorts, "Ughhh..." he gave a soft moan, but was still has hard as ever. Jake on the other hand was receiving an internal fuck that was driving him wild. Did it matter that it was coming from another male? Fuck no. "Ohh god yes!!...Fuck yes!!!" He moaned in a strange mutant tone. The cock hardened even more, feeling like it would explode, but then suddenly Jake felt a tug and a gasp from Jimmy. He looked up to see both his arms in, frantically trying to pull them out as they appeared trapped. But what Jimmy was really experience was a feeling of something pulling. It yanked on his arms, dragging him further and further in until he was up to his shoulders. He gasped as his face was slapped around and blanketed with thick pre; coughing some out as it forced its way down his throat. The cock swelled even more in to massive proportions, so thick, so long, more than big enough to hold a person... "Stop...stop!! Sir...please don't!" Jimmy cried for help. Jake didn't respond, only moaning with delight as his own cock sucked and pulled Jimmy in. "Noo...nooo let me go!!* He screamed. But before he could get out another word, his head was pulled in as his legs kicked and thrust. "Ughh fuck yeah...more!!" Jake was taking in deep breaths as the pleasure over stimulating. Jimmy's resistance was making it feel even more amazing. He leaned back to put his dick in an optimal position to let gravity assist pulling in the cadet. With that motion he easily slipped down further until just his vigorously kicking feet were sticking out...then they were gone. Jimmy's figure could be seen slowly traveling down the shaft; still squirming and thrusting...like an actual python eating its prey. The shape moved down to his over packed balls as the movement of Jimmy finally ceased. Another splash of clear pre squirted out the slit as Jakes vocal moans started to sound like his normal voice again. His cock rose to a tall dominating stance, with the slit almost looking down at him with a commanding stare. He dropped to his knees and formed a deep bow, having to spread his thighs for the swollen sac, "Yes master...your wishes are my command...only to service you." He looks up and suddenly feels his shaft arch back and swell as a huge powerful surge shoots through him, screaming out in orgasmic pleasure...just as the cock violently erupts like a volcano, blasting his entire room with hot creamy muscle spunk. Just then Jake passes out, falling on top his now deflating dick, relaxing back to its normal size. Jake was completely out in an orgasmic coma, as the warm sticky cum slowly ran down the graded floor towards the shower drain. It ran over, sounding like water gushing down a city storm drain on a rainy afternoon. The pipes in the station however were not designed for this volume, especially this substance. The slow flowing cock juice began clogging the filters, putting strain on the system. Leaks started to spring around the gasket connections as the thick fluid escaped, over flowing into the tanks labeled, "Drinking water."

Raines awakens a few hours later and discovers that Gavin is not in the sleep area anymore. He looks down to see that his body has remained in its massive form, but that his mind has returned to normal. He smiles and almost laughs out loud since this is sort of what he wanted to achieve in the first place, but that his plan changed a bit due to Gavin’s ‘decisions’. He stands and of course realizes that he has no clothes now to wear because of his giant muscles. He leaves the sleep area to walk towards one of the guest rooms just to see if the other hulk was still in the complex, but alas he appears to have left. The basement door has been unblocked and the handle is now completely gone. He opens the door to walk up the stairs as his cock flops in its footlong glory. He gets to the top and rushes to get to his room to retrieve another lab coat. He remembers that he kept a few just in case he needed them down the road perhaps in case something like this would happen. He finds the largest size in his closet and puts it on. Despite it being a bit snug, he manages to get it over his thick muscular body and closes it. When he goes to leave his room, he hears a commotion down the hall and it makes him jump. He creeps around the corner and realizes that someone is moving around his house and it doesn’t appear to be Gavin. He turns to look at this man and he is not necessarily tiny, but compared to Raines he is. The man probably tops off at around 190 and seems to be about 6’2. He appears to be searching for something in the den of the house which has Colby a little suspicious. He tries to sneak up on the man, but he turns around and yells as he tries to find his way out of the room. Raines jumps from his position and crashes into a table while grabbing the man. He covers the thief’s mouth and picks him up. The man tries to punch him, but ends up hurting his hand. Colby wraps his powerful arms around the guy’s neck and knocks him out. He takes the man down into the basement and ties him up in the dilapidated chamber. He goes to sit at his desk not far from him and jots some words down until the man wakes up. After about two hours of taking notes, the thief awakens and starts to writhe about trying to get out of his restraints. Raines smiles and tells him it is no use that he won’t get away. The man then tries to interrogate Colby and wants to know where he is keeping his ‘secret journal’. Raines gives him a weird look and wonders how he would know about something like that since only a handful of people would ever try to find it. Colby asks him who he works for and the man just shrugs it off and says, ‘he doesn’t work for anyone.’ Raines stands up and does a menacing pose, but the man just looks the other way. He realizes that this man could be working for his former employer, Heddison Pharmaceuticals, after pondering it over for a couple of minutes. He mentions it and the man begins to sweat a bit. Colby gets a devious look on his face and says that he will let him go, but that he will have to spend a night there at the lab so that he can remember where he left the journal. The man seems distraught by this proposition and wonders what Raines is up to. Colby leaves the lab for a little bit and goes to block off the basement door as he leaves just in case the man gets free to go check his computer in the kitchen area. He finds the pharma company’s website and looks up some of their personnel. He finds the man’s picture and notices that he is a scientist also. Remarkably he doesn’t remember working with this guy so he must have been working on something top secret back then. He jots down a few notes and takes them with him back to the lab area. The man seems to have passed out from the exertion as Raines goes over to smack his face. The man comes to and threatens ‘to expose him when he gets out’. Colby laughs hysterically at this and says you won’t get past ‘these guns’ and flexes his biceps as they stretch the material on his lab coat. The man appears to be in awe as he stares intently at Raines’s arms. Colby goes to sit at his desk again and starts telling the man that he knows who he is. ‘So Forrest Leavens, what top secret project are you working on at Heddison?’ ‘I am not telling you shit man. You will have to kill me I guess because I’m not talking.’ ‘I’m not going to kill you Forrest, I am going to make you wish you never came here though.’ Raines opens his lab coat to expose his gargantuan cock and walks over to Forrest. He sits it on the man’s arm as he growls a little. Forrest sweats nervously and tries to taunt Colby, but it has no impact. ‘Open up buddy, and you better not bite me because I will hurt you badly.’ ‘FUCK YOU ASSHOLE, LET ME GO OR I WILL…..’ *gulp gulp* Colby shoves his enormous cock inside Forrest’s mouth making him choke immediately as Raines moans feeling it moves further inside pushing Leavens mouth wider. It isn’t long before Forrest goes unconscious as his mouth and throat get stretched to their limits. Raines moves back and forth enough to make himself cum inside the unconscious thief. He wonders if this will cause some kind of reaction, but doubts it. Leavens mouth is bleeding from the trauma, but it isn’t serious. The hulk scoops up some of his cum as well as some of Forrest’s DNA and rushes over to try and come up with a quick batch of his powder. His enormous hands make it difficult to grip things now though so he will have to try making a liquid of some kind with his specimen. With Forrest still unconscious, he rips the man’s pants off and starts to suck the man rapidly to make him give up some of his sperm for the liquid. He moans in his stupor as he shoots several jets of cum in the air as Raines catches it on his tongue. He rushes over to the beaker full of the specimen and drops the cum now mixed with his saliva into the specimen. He pours the other components in from when he made his powder and stirs it up. It begins to show that blue hue that he remembers from the powder and he stops mixing it. As Forrest begins to wake up, Colby waddles over and pours the beaker’s contents down the thief’s mouth. He gags as it moves down inside him. Raines stares at him and wonders if this will be different than Gavin, but doesn’t seem that worried since he is big enough to handle any adversity now. Forrest tries to talk but is unable to as he gasps for air. Raines begins to think that this may have been a mistake because it may be killing him instead of making him ‘change’. He decides not to approach the man just in case something peculiar happens and stays close to his desk. Forrest gets an angry look on his face as he flexes his arms still under restraints. The veins look noticeably more pumped than before he ingested this concoction. Colby looks intrigued at what is transpiring and a bit excited too as it appears to be a bit of a success. ‘I WILL GET OUT OF THESE…..’ *popping sounds coming from Forrest* ‘OH FUCK…..’ *stretching starts* Colby watches as Forrest inflates right in front of him. His shirt immediately starts to shred as buttons go flying everywhere and his chest explodes in size. His pecs have sprouted enormous amounts of hair as his nipples stretch to the ends. His back continues to climb higher and higher into the air growing muscles on top of other muscles. Even his head appears to be growing. Raines gets a puzzled look on his face as the thief almost appears to be transforming into something a bit different. His hazel eyes have changed to an unusual blue emerald color and his body appears to be turning blue too as the veins in his arms start to expand stretching the bands on the chair to their breaking point. He yells as he breaks free from the restraints and immediately pounds his huge chest as his biceps and triceps nearly outgrow his arm. Raines realizes he may have stumbled upon a formula that changes the way humans look. Forrest’s leg muscles have split more than three times as they continue to expand wildly and his cock appears to be morphing itself also. The thief agonizes as another cock sprouts from inside his body beside his current one as it grows to match his original cock. Colby runs out of the room the best he can to get to the basement door before Forrest can break free from his leg restraints. As he gets out, he hears the massive freak roaring as he busts through the lab wall to chase Raines down. Colby’s huge frame will be no match for this new creation of his if he doesn’t get out of the house fast enough. Forrest blasts through the basement door and goes searching for Raines who has managed to hide outside in an open field located about 100 feet from the house. The blue behemoth cannot speak in human terms anymore so he spouts off some kind of gibberish and shouts it. Raines covers his mouth so he doesn’t make a sound as the crazed begins wandering around the neighborhood. After nearly ten minutes, Colby gets up from his position to rush into the house which luckily still stands because Forrest only ransacked his one path from outside into the basement. The door to the basement is completely smashed now and the lab area no longer has a wall between it and the hallway to the sleep areas and kitchen. Raines goes to sit down in the kitchen and just pauses for a few minutes to think about what to do next with not one, but two monsters roaming the neighborhood. He admits that he is a bit of one too, but each one of them has different characteristics. He admits that Gavin did him a favor turning him into a colossal muscle freak, but wonders how his mind returned to normal. He goes into the lab area to see if he can collect his notes which are strewn all over the floor. After finally picking up everything he needs, he puts them in a box and goes back up into the main part of the house. He sits down at his desk in the den and wonders if Forrest managed to find anything of use. He turns his computer on and notices that Leavens accessed his database and visited a website meant for classified information. It appears that Forrest was attempting to download a section of his hard drive, but never made it that far since he found him. He knows that he will probably have to go find Forrest in case he regains his faculties like he did. Gavin never lost his in the first place which was another mystery to Colby. Raines will have to find some clothes somewhere to fit him since he doesn’t have any now. At this moment, he will have to manage with just a lab coat and will keep it as tight as he can. After grabbing his cell phone and tablet, he sets out to search for Forrest. He knows that people will be looking at him as he goes out into the open, but there is little else he can do at this point. He goes back into the basement for a few minutes just to see if he can scrounge up some samples that have been left by himself, Forrest, and even Gavin. Amazingly, there is still some cum sitting on the floor in one of the sleep areas from where Gavin was sitting and laying. Colby smiles as he sticks the sample in with the other cum samples from himself and Leavens. He isn’t sure at this point what he will do with it, but knows that it may become useful at some point. He puts a few drops of his original solution in with them as it will be a catalyst for when it enters the human body. He smirks as he stares at it in one of his remaining test tubes. Such a small amount could result in a major catastrophic change in something or someone. After admiring its yellowish glow, he walks back up the stairs out of the basement and into the open again in search of one or perhaps both of his creations.

Angel: A Sequel – Part VII By [email protected] (Author’s note: please refer to important background in Parts I-VI) Post Workout As he did when he got into my little car to get to the gym, Grant squeezed his massive and bulging body into my front seat, yet again. It was comical. His huge and striated legs were almost pressed against his already protruding pecs. His incredibly wide shoulders had his left shoulder jamming into mine. I didn’t mind that at all. He looked at me and gave me a cute knowing smile. He saw the absurdity, too. I thought that all it would take for him to rip himself through the roof and side door was to take in a big breadth and expand his extreme muscle mass to its max. “Yeah, that would be a feat of strength I bet you’d love to see. Unfortunately, you’d loose your car to the junk heap if I did that for you,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Yeah, but I’d love to see you do that feat of strength and, especially, feel all your muscles get as hard as a warm granite rocks,” I said with lust dripping from every word. “Well, my dear Paul, we have lots of time to think up more ways for me to perform incomprehensible feats of strength for your viewing and muscle worshipping pleasure,” he added confidently. I exclaimed, “Hell, you blew my mind and the minds of those muscle-worshippers at the gym with your astounding strength just in the gym. And, god knows, they appreciate really stacked strong men and they certainly showed how they appreciated you. Did you see how excited they all got when you said we’d be back for some more workouts? Jeez, they really were like enthusiastic kindergarten kids, only with very big muscles themselves and some great lookin’ cocks.” “Hey, I actually don’t know if you need to eat…I mean ever, Grant. Boy, I sure could use some dinner. How about if we stop at the Coney Island up the road and get something to eat?” I inquired. “Yeah, I eat. You’re right. I don’t have to, but I know I’m expected to. That Coney Island sounds fine,” Grant announced. I immediately did an “oh shit” in my head wondering how the customers would react to Grant. The dry clothes that the manager gave us both fit me ok, but on Grant, that was something else. His short sleeved shirt was way too small. Even his relaxed bulging biceps, veins and all, looked like they would burst the sleeve apart at the smallest movement of his arm. It was very sexy, of course. The shirt could only be buttoned from the bottom three buttons and below. His naturally protruding pec shelf, covered in light hair, is such a lust-trigger for me. For instance, his slightly hairy and relaxed chest was just too huge and way too over-hung with a shelf of pec meat for any buttons to close. It was spread so wide that you could almost see his wide areolas and finger-thick nipples. Again, Grant is one hell of a sex object. And the short shorts. His crevassed and veined quads and its layers of thick muscle kept pushing the bottom of his shorts up to the top of his thighs. And, of course, his huge package was dead center and pushing the zipper cover so wide that it was noticeably losing the war to keep his massive equipment contained. “Got it, my friend. I hear you. Yeah, guess I am a little underdressed for dinner. Since this is a resort town, I’ll certainly cause a stir in folks but I doubt we’ll be arrested or anything like that. Or, tell me the truth, do you like the idea of being with me like this? I think I know the answer…but thought I’d ask anyways,” he inquired. He brought his monster left arm up and around and wrapped it completely around my shoulders, his big hand coming down easily and completely wrapping my very modest bicep. He gave me a gentle but noticeable squeeze. Oh fuck. I was in heaven. “No, Grant, I’ve given up worrying about people’s reaction to you…and me. You just have a great way of exuding such warm and attractive vibes….people become very deferential to you…and not just because of your size and extreme good-looks. You won over those cynical hard-assed muscle guys at the gym in no time at all. I bet you’ll do that with the Coney Island customers and servers, too. No, I’m thrilled to be with you and you with me,” I announced authoritatively. My right hand left the steering wheel and went digging around the unending hard contours of his massive package. At the moment I thought I had made his cock hard…or, more precisely, when he let me make him hard, and push his humungous cock up to his waist line, we arrived in the parking lot of the restaurant. “There’s more for you later, good buddy,” he announced with a leer and another squeeze of my shoulders. At the Coney Island The staring and stunned gawking from everyone – men, women, young or old – began immediately when we got out of the car. Grant was carrying himself – just naturally for him – with great presence and confidence – his extreme height is breathtaking. I watched as damn near everyone stopped in their tracks – coming in or out of the restaurant – to see this behemoth of an extraordinarily built and handsome male. One young kid couldn’t resist. He enthusiastically ran over to Grant. He got up real close and looked way up, and asked Grant if he was a circus strongman. Grant got a big smile on his face, leaned down, looked at the kid’s shocked parents, and he picked up the kid in his right hand and lifted him up to his face. The kid squealed in glee and said, “I knew you were a strongman. I could tell.” “What’s your name?” Grant asked the kid. “Harry. What is yours Mr. Strongman?” he asked back. “Grant,” Grant responded. “Will I see you at the circus Mr. Grant Strongman?” the kid asked. “I’m not sure, Harry. But it’s good to see you here,” commented Grant. “Wow, you are really big Mr. Grant Strongman. My dad is really strong, too,” the kid said very proudly…looking over at his father. I looked at his Dad who was beet red (and also a good-looking male specimen in his own right) -- probably in both embarrassment and pride. Nothing like receiving your son’s very public hero-worship in front of another strongman. Grant gently put the kid down and the kid ran hollering to his parents about how he’d been lifted by a real circus strongman. The parents smiled back at Grant, though clearly mystified at Grant’s size. The noisy restaurant started to quiet down as we walked to a booth, way the other side of the restaurant. The attractive waiter was slender but built. He was clearly both very excited and very nervous about escorting us. My gaydar, though not usually in good working order, went off with this guy. But, then, as I’ve discovered, most men are just enthralled with being up so close to Grant. Jeez, I’ve never seen so many people stop and stare so unapologetically in my life. Some would look away and then look back, look away, and again, look back. They couldn’t keep their eyes off of him. I’m sure the fact that we were together and that I was so vastly smaller in size, had a lot of folks confused or speculating god knows what. I just smiled politely; following Grants tightly wrapped big ass butt and the cute ass of the nervous waiter. Other than the gym, this was our first voyage into the general public. It was gonna be memorable, I could tell. I was also amazed at my own reaction in being in public with Grant. I felt tall, confident, secure, and proud. These were new feelings for me. I was very grateful. Once at a booth, and before we sat, the waiter’s eyes slowly moved up and down, and side to side, taking in all of Grant’s huge frame. He said, “ Sir, I hope our booths are…. big enough for…. you. I’ve picked one so you can have more room for ….your….legs.” “No problem. What’s your name?” asked Grant with that incredibly warm and charming smile of his. “Evan, sir.” “Well, Evan, thanks for taking such good care of my partner and me. I’m sure this booth will work out just fine,” Grant observed nonchalantly. I was instantly touched and moved that Grant would, once again, in public, call me his partner. Fuck, I was so in love. I was truly feeling beside myself with happiness. Grant squeezed himself into one side of the booth. I put myself into the other side. However, the thought occurred to me that I’d love to sit next to Grant. On second thought, there would not have been enough room for the both of us. “Yep. You guessed that right my good buddy. We can cuddle up when we get home….hopefully sooner than later,” Grant said softly. Little did we know how the evening would yet unfold. It still unnerves me that he is always reading my mind. Evan decided he would be our waiter and had a bunch of questions about what needed to get started. I could tell he really was absolutely enthralled by being around Grant. I just started to stare at Grant myself. He knew that and just gave me back his trademark grin. God, he is so handsome and so fuckin’ sexy. I just kept roving my eyes around his head and face. His gorgeous wavy jet black hair looked like he had just had it cut…perfectly balanced. His ears. Damn. How could ears be so sexy? They stood out just enough from the side of his head to make a statement of “we’re important too.” They sure are. Then his beautiful, sparkling and glistening blue eyes. Perfectly trimmed and bushy eye brows framed his liquid eyes. Truly, I knew what it was like to get lost in a man’s eyes. The light beard stubble on the sides of his face and chin continued to give him an even stronger aura of hyper-masculinity and strength. Like so many gods, he, too, had a vertical cleft in his chin that made him “Hollywood handsome.” His lips were big, not too pouty, and a deep red. I remembered how profound it was to have kissed him earlier this morning and feel those moist strong lips on mine. In this quiet moment together, even in public, I once again marveled at his towering and massive traps, rising up to nearly the top of his neck, and slowly tapering down to his explosive set of front and back delts. The t-shirt was so thin and tight that it just looked like another tight skin. Then his unheard of relaxed arms…each the size of two footballs mashed together. Then his forearms, covered in light hair, veins, tendons, and crevasses, extended out – as he crossed them and uncrossed them for my lustful pleasure. Damn, that was an act of sex all by itself. His big hands…fingers covered in small tuffs of black hair…very thick and long fingers. I remembered what they had done surrounding and squeezing my cock earlier in the morning. “Yeah, I know, you like what you see. I want you to know that I really like what I see in you, too,” he said, once again, softly. I had a hard time telling myself this was not a muscleman, muscle-worshipping wet dream…definitely not another internet short story of fantasy…though I loved those, too. We didn’t need to talk too much. We just seemed to relish being in each other’s quiet company after the extravaganza of muscle-worshipping passion, muscle addicts, and sex at the gym. Yet, it was far from quiet. I couldn’t believe how people started coming up to us, introducing themselves. A few were jerks and only wanted to talk with Grant. He made short order of them. Some girls asked to feel his bicep and he obliged with a big flex and smile. They giggled like no tomorrow. A couple of guys wanted to know if he was a trainer and where he worked out. We told them about the gym we had just been at. They gave us their phone number and promised to meet us there, soon. Both were body-builders and dumbstruck at Grant’s size and virility. They had a hard time leaving us. Evan was ever attentive with questions about if our food and service was satisfactory. I knew he had more questions, but he was just too embarrassed or intimidated – at least for the moment. I noticed his cock was hanging on the inside of his left leg. I wondered how hard it was getting. We ate and continued to gracefully manage all the gawking, interruptions, questions, and requests for a flex. This was ok for the moment. Yet, I could see it also getting old. Something to think about. Grant was just incredibly consistently charming, pleasant, and encouraging. As I saw with the muscleheads at the gym, people just felt drawn to him and his special exceedingly masculine energy. I was very proud. At one point, just as a reminder to me, he put one of his monster legs in-between my legs and I squeezed as hard as I could to let him know I knew he knew I was there. He loved that. Cute little Evan finally brought over the check. Again, asking more questions to make sure the food and his service was satisfactory. Which, of course, it was. Grant was reading him like a book. “Hey Evan. Looks like you workout,” Grant observed. Evan nodded affirmatively yet silently. He stood up straighter and thrust his chest out. “Maybe you’d like to meet up with me and Paul sometime and we could workout together. I’d be happy to show you some of the tips that have helped me get this big and muscular. Maybe we could jump start your workouts to the next level for you. You interested?” asked Grant knowingly. Evan’s face turned red and gave us a huge grin. “Oh yeah…I’d be honored to work workout with you guys. It is really such an inspiration to have you even here and be able to wait on you,” Evan exclaimed. “Write down your name and phone number and one of us will give you a ring sometime in the next week or so, ok?” suggested Grant. “Oh thank you, both of you. You’ve just made my week,” added Evan. He paused and seemed deep in thought. Then the truth came out. “I’m a little nervous but I’d love to feel your amazing bicep, Grant,” he asked apologetically. “Well everyone else has so here you go,” Grant announced. He gave him one hell of a peaked double-bicep. All of a sudden, Evan got very uninhibited and inspired. He was not the least bit embarrassed about leaning into the booth with both his hands and feeling both biceps all over, passionately. We left him a big tip. And he had one hell of a big grin. God, I bet he had cock-pounding jack-off fantasies for weeks. I sure would have. A Potential Tragedy Barely Averted As we walked back through the restaurant to the front door, the gawking continued. I laughed because Grant took the walk more slowly this time…letting his magnificent hyper-masculine presence and massive body sink into each on-looker. Shit, he can be such a fabulous show-off when he wants to. I could only begin to imagine the detailed and passionate fantasies he was triggering in both the men and the women. I was surprised we didn’t get more folks coming out of their booths to talk to us before they missed the opportunity to connect to us…connect to Grant. We got in the car and started driving on the toll-road over the bay back to my house. Frankly, I couldn’t get there fast enough. I was so horny. I’d been like this all day long, ever since I consumed his one-of-a-kind cum this morning. Half way over the toll-road, we saw a huge collection of police cars and fire trucks flashing their lights up ahead. Traffic had begun to slow but was not yet stopped. There were still some left lanes open, evidently. As we pulled closer, we were both shocked. A huge tanker truck was flipped on its side and was squashing a yellow school bus against and almost over the bridge guard rail. Even from a distance, the school bus looked very badly damaged from front to back. We both knew that there were probably kids in that school bus and that it was very close to breaking the guard rail and heading into the deep water. This accident looked like it had just happened. Instead of following the urgent directions of a very big cop to stop gawking and drive by, Grant told me to pull over and park the car. I did just that. The cop was furious. Yet, when Grant got out of the car and started running to the accident, the cop seemed so shocked at seeing Grant that he turned to the other cars, passionately motioning them to keep moving. I got out of the car and began to follow Grant as fast as I could. But his running speed, no surprise, was exceptional. I was so stunned at seeing the awful accident and the extreme risk these kids were in, that it didn’t occur to me what, if anything, Grant could or would do. I didn’t have to wait long. He ignored all the cops and firemen. They kept hollering and screaming at him to get out of there. Yet, there was nothing they could do to stop this monster of a man. I was close enough so I could see Grant, but far enough back so I wasn’t told to leave. Thank god. The tanker was leaking but that wasn’t stopping the almost futile efforts of the cops and firemen to get into the school bus and pull the kids out. That’s when Grant made his move. He effortlessly wedged his hugely muscled body in-between the severely dented tanker and the crushed driver’s side of the school bus. I was sure he was pushing back and easily bending metal on the tanker and the bus with his body to get into the middle of the wreck. He pounded his fists and forearms into the metal of both the tanker and bus to help clear his path. He continuously thru his massive shoulders into both sets of metal, as well. He was making huge dents into all the metal. It was collapsing from the unbelievable pressure from his extremely powerful body. There was no stopping this superman. I was a little ashamed at myself for having such a hard time focusing on the kids, yet still thinking about Grant’s inhuman strength. My concern for the kids won out. Grant was putting himself to the test…a test he was called to…a test that had to succeed. The lives of an unknown number of kids depended upon him, his in-human strength, and his exceptionally powerful muscles. The accident had just happened so no ambulances were in sight, though I was sure they were among the sirens I was hearing get closer. It was horrifying to think they might be too late. The cops and firemen seemed helpless to get into the bus from either the front end or the back end. The guard rail and tanker had just demolished access from doors or even windows. I moved around to look between the bus and tanker and saw Grant raise his huge arms and start to push on the middle of the tanker. His already huge body was becoming a mass of pumped-up muscles pitted against hardened steel. With each powerful push, the tanker moved up off the bus just a little bit. Grant repositioned his arms and body each time, giving the tanker another punishing push, yet holding it steady at the same time. He was huge. His whole body was a stunning mass of exploding muscles. There was no strongman on earth that could do what Grant was doing…no one. The cops and firemen looked up and, despite their visible disbelief at seeing Grant do the unthinkable, they redoubled their efforts to get into both ends of the bus. No go. The bus had been sandwiched way too hard between the tanker and the guard rail. It was now teetering because Grant had lifted the tanker from direct contact with the bus. With one final huge shove – I heard a very deep and loud roar from him -- Grant pushed the tanker into an upright position. He had busted completely out of his flimsy t-shirt. I could tell his shorts were in tatters from the unrelenting expansion of his quads. He truly looked like a white Hulk, though half-naked. I had a vision of him being a very big angel. He quickly turned back to face the side of the bus. With one of his massive arms, he grabbed the side door and just pulled the door off. With the other huge gun, he held onto the bus so it wouldn’t slip over the guardrail into very deep water. All of us were stunned at this in-human display of unlimited and spectacular strength. I was hard as hell but I also knew it was okay, despite the very scary circumstances. Grant’s testosterone from early this morning just had that kind of effect on me. With no time to waste given the uncertain medical condition of the kids, Grant pulled the entire bus, this time with both humungous arms, up off the guardrail and onto the safety of the concrete. Cheers went up from all the on-lookers that had stood by helplessly -- thinking the worst might happen. Grant was not done, however. Nobody cared that he barely had any clothes on. All they cared about was that this massive superman was saving the lives of these terrified kids. Grant muscled the metal door out of his way and went into the mangled and shattered bus. We all knew he or others had to do this. We just didn’t know if there would be a fire and explosion -- at a moment’s notice. The kids screaming had become louder and louder. One at a time, with great care, he lifted each kid into his massive arms and maneuvered them through the demolished door. He was so very big. And in his huge arms and chest, the kids seemed so very small and fragile. He quickly ran with each child away from the accident, and laid each child down on the ground. Inexplicably, he began to give each child very gentle and loving mouth to mouth resuscitation…even if they were conscious. He did this even though the cops and firemen were screaming at him to wait for the ambulances. He held their nostrils closed with one hand, cleared their passage-way with the other, and then placed his huge hairy hand in the middle of each of their chests. Right where their heart was. Continuing to ignore the screams cops and firemen to wait, he went back into the bus for each child. And, for each child, gave them his own very special brand of care. By the time the first ambulances arrived, he had safely evacuated and given resuscitation to a total of 12 kids…all at an amazing speed. What was left of his t-shirt and shorts were covered in blood. He showed no evidence of being winded or tired. He was simply on a very special mission. The EMT’s, having seen what Grant had been doing with the last couple kids, were extremely angry and berated him for even moving them and giving them aid. They did not know the inhuman feats of strength he had just performed to save their lives from certain death. He calmly listened to their outrage and did not react. As the medics started triage with each kid, the medics became very confused – talking and conferring excitedly with each other. While many of the kids were covered in their own blood, they did not seem to have any immediate or observable internal or external injuries. The medics kept looking frantically at each kid, checking all vital signs, looking for possible internal injuries, and looking for broken bones. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Yes, the kids were all very upset, crying, and hollering. Yet, the kids also seemed to be without any injuries. “How could this be possible,” the medics started asking themselves, including the cops and the firemen. The cops and firemen pointed to the hulking bloodied figure of a half-naked Grant standing patiently nearby. They excitedly told the medics how Grant had single-handedly lifted the tanker off the bus and ripped open the bus metal door. They told them how he went in and pulled each child out and gave each resuscitation, holding his hand over each of their hearts as he breathed into them. The medics were in complete disbelief. Yet, they knew these cops and firemen would not and could not make up such an extreme story, given the crisis at hand. Grant was still just standing tall and quiet. Soon, the medics, cops and firemen started to gather all around him. He stood head and shoulders above them all…both literally and figuratively. They couldn’t stop asking him angry questions about this extraordinary rescue, his inhuman strength, and the medical miracles he seemed to have accomplished with his breath and hands. The really big cop I saw earlier was up close, along with another very big cop next to him. Both looked like their blues were painted on their either super heavy-weight body-building bodies or powerlifter bodies – I couldn’t tell which. Muscle-cops. Definitely muscle-cops. I never miss musclemen…never…no matter what the situation. I couldn’t help feeling a stirring in my pants, despite the crisis. Damn, these were really hot muscle-cops….in short sleeves, no less. And their huge arms were pointing and gesturing towards Grant and the wrecks of the tanker and bus. OMG I thought to myself. Grant was very patient with all of them. He kept repeating phrases like: “Yes, in a way, my strength is in-human…I’m grateful for it. And very glad I could help here.” “I know I have healing powers and I used them on these kids.” “I don’t expect you to understand all of this.” “My partner and I live over in the next town.” “I’m just glad I was here in time.” “The cops and firemen worked very hard at great risk to themselves to get the kids out. It was an honor to help them out.” “Yes, all of this was, indeed, a miracle. And we know where miracles come from don’t we?” That last comment and question only stopped their barrage of questions temporarily. They just couldn’t stop firing questions at him. Finally, they all began to tell him how very grateful they were that he did what he did…that he risked himself the way he did…that he understood more than they did what it was going to take to make sure these kids were safe and well. They softened. I was now up close to the group. I think I saw Grant start to tear up. Some of the professionals were tearing up as well. A true tragic catastrophe had been averted because of who Grant is. I was in tears myself. I was also so proud of Grant…so very proud and grateful. One of the EMTs came up with a blanket and wrapped it around Grant’s shoulders…at least as high as he could get. Grant readjusted it and told him thank you. The EMT said it would help keep the blood off whatever car he was riding in. “I’ve never seen guy with so many huge muscles like you. You are an unbelievable sight. Thank god you were here today and could use them like you did. Though I just don’t understand how you could move the tanker and tear open the bus like that.” The EMT was a combination of deep appreciation and total confusion. “As I said, I was just glad I was here and could help,” said Grant modestly. After handshakes, “thank yous”, and manly shoulder pats all around (Grant got a hell of a lot of long pats on his shoulders and arms), Grant and I walked over to my car. Once again, cheers emerged from the crowd. Grant stopped, turned around, and gave a big salute. More cheers. Clearly, he was the epitome of a hero in everyone’s eyes. An unforgettable, huge and extremely handsome hero…covered in the blood of his heroic exploits. We were quiet the rest of way home. I drove with my left hand as we held hands with our fingers tightly intertwined. I kept thinking that rarely have I read muscle-god muscle-worshipping fiction where the muscle god also saved lives…especially the lives of children. Grant, of course, “heard” me. He remarked, “Paul, I am simply made to love and do good things and be with good people. I am so glad to be able to share it all with you.” Tears came to my eyes once again. I couldn’t get my mind around the unheard of feats of strength – bending, pushing, and pulling hard metal – Grant had just done with his body. God, talk about being a superman. And he is all mine…and I sure don’t mind sharing him, either. Home and Surprising Visitors Arrive We got Grant out of his bloody clothes….what was left of them…which was barely anything at all. I started to feel his muscles and he started to flex each as I touched and massaged them. I had just seen these huge pumped muscles do things that humans cannot do. These were the same in-human muscles that had bent tanker and bus metal to get him wedged in the middle of the crash. These were the same muscles that relentlessly pushed, pounded, and lifted the multi-ton tanker trailer back on its 18 wheels. These were the same muscles that just ripped open the side door of the bus like he was stripping sheets off a bed. These were the same muscles that ever so gently carried 12 terrified children to their safety and, in fact, helped them heal from internal and other injuries. As he flexed and re-flexed, and I mauled and massaged, I asked him, “What exactly did you do when you gave the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and put your hand on their heart?” He kept on flexing then paused. I paused my muscle explorations, as well. “Well, you saw how I was able to give you a bigger penis earlier today in just a few moments. Right? So, I just used my God-given powers to breath the spirit of healing into each of these kids and lay my hand on their heart to speed the healing of their entire body. It really isn’t more complicated than that. It’s who I am. It is what I do. I’m an instrument, as well all are, each in our own way. My gifts are just more visible than those of most humankind. Isn’t this what you’ve always fantasized for all these years in your muscle gods – in your deepest and wildest dreams?” He knew me well. “Oh, Grant. I get a little scared hearing that kind of talk from you. Yet, I know in my heart of hearts that you are telling me the truth. I just never thought I’d hear such a wonderful thing from a hyper-masculine, handsome, muscle-god like you. You’re breaking the mold of my fantasy stereotypes of muscle-gods like you. And I’m so glad you’re doing that with me,” I added enthusiastically. He reached around and brought our naked bodies together and squeezed hard. I squeezed back as best I could. We ended up taking another shower together. God, how I love being his personal wash-cloth as he soaped me up, manhandled me, and rubbed me all over his massive body. I got another great ride on his hard cock…jamming my own hard cock into his steel ab muscles. We both exploded with gushers of cum. I made sure I scraped up as much of his cum off my body as I could. The delicious nectar went straight into my mouth. He seemed to like mine as well. After drying off, we both got into some loose clothing and lay down on the couch to watch some TV. He held me tightly up in his lap. Actually, I was really sitting on his constantly big thick hard cock. I kept massaging his huge forearms and very sexy hands. Then the doorbell rang. That is pretty rare in my house. Fortunately, I was sort of dressed. I opened the wood inner door and damn near fainted from more shock. I was speechless. Standing in front of me were the two very, very big cops that I had seen at the accident. One had black hair and other had blond hair, cut short. Both had their cop caps tucked underneath their huge arms. Both wore the sexiest black opaque shades I had ever seen on guys. My gay eyes darted everywhere very fast. Both had tufts of hair spilling out from the top of their damn near glued-on tapered blue shirt, with all the police insignia you could imagine. Both were in short sleeves that, like Grant’s earlier, looked like they would burst into tatters at the mere movement of their massive and huge hairy arms. Fuck, they were so intimidating. I’d certainly read about muscle-cops. I’d had a lot of fantasies about what they do and what they’re like. But, shit, I never thought I’d have two of these stunning, instantly authoritative muscle-gods, on my porch. I stopped my own gawking when one of them asked me if I was “Paul Dickson.” I stammered. I didn’t know what to say other than a weak “yes”. I collected myself just long enough to ask them why they were here. “You were at the scene of the accident on the toll way. We took your license number down and obtained this address. You’re not in any trouble. Neither is that big huge friend of yours either,” one added. “My partner,” I barked. “Your partner…my apologies,” added the same cop. “We just had a lot of unanswered questions that we need to get answers to for our accident report to our deputy chief. We hope you’ll be willing to help us. It is voluntary for both you.” While he said this to me, I couldn’t help but drill down on both of these guys and their very tightly tailored blue pants. One had a big bulge that pushed out the zipper. The other had his long thick cock hanging down the inside of his tight right leg. His VPL was awesome. They were like super-heavyweight twins. Both had spectacular v-shapes to their torso, accentuated by their blue shirts neatly tucked tightly into their narrow waists. Grant came up behind me and brought me back to reality. “Hi officers, how can we help you?” he boomed out in his most authoritative voice. He was taking charge, thank god. “We were just explaining to your….ahhh….partner…that we have some questions that needed to be answered for our accident report. And, by the way, we are all very grateful for your help in saving those kids. We could not have done it without you.” “We are still completely baffled and stunned that you flipped that tanker back up on its wheels and ripped off the side door to that bus. We saw you with our own eyes. As you can probably tell, we are body-builders and power-lifters, too, so we know a thing or two about strength. But your strength is absolutely incredible… in-human…unbelievable. I guess we’d like to talk about that, too.” The big cop added that last sentence with a bit of embarrassment and very evident hopefulness. The sexual tension was building quickly. “I bet you would…yeah…be happy to talk about my strength. I’d like to hear about what you two do, too. Paul, why don’t we invite them in?” queried Grant with a knowing smile. He could see that we had a couple of muscle-addicts on our hands. They were real-time muscle-cops…big, threatening, and huge all over. And my gaydar was working overtime, yet again. “Don’t mind if we do,” added the bigger cop. I opened the screen door and these gorgeous blue hulks of hyper-masculine manhood came in, one at a time, still wearing their dark wrap-around sun glasses. I gave them another once over and was getting hard again. Fuck, how could two muscle-cops be so big, so muscular, so well-built, and so sexy? My certifiably gay little mind wondered: Are they partners? Or partner partners? Both body-builders? Both power lifters? Who do they fuck? My mind was racing. No doubt Grant already knew. And these massive blue muscleman beasts are in my living room at the same time, with my own muscle-god, Grant. The possibilities were endless. All this because Grant was unquestionably willing to show – publically -- his super-human strength to save the lives of 12 children. I could never have imagined such an amazing day when I woke up this morning, opened the front door, and saw Grant. Exploring the Cock-Hardening Possibilities After standing in my living room just for a moment and looking around – I guess that’s just a cop thing – they removed their glasses, folded them up, and put them in their top shirt pocket. Both were handsome but in a rugged and rough kind of way. Grant started us off. “Well, officers, I know everyone at the accident scene really appreciated all that you did, too, to figure out how to get those kids out. You risked your lives. Thanks for what you did,” Grant said earnestly. They were standing tall, big, and with their huge shoulders squared. Almost like they were at attention. Holy shit, I was getting intoxicated with lust. “Thanks. But we don’t know your name,” said the bigger cop. “I’m Grant,” responded Grant. “Grant who?” asked the cop like an inquisitive cop would. “Actually, I’m in the middle of legally changing my last name but that’s too much to go into right now,” Grant responded calmly. “Well, Grant. We gotta have a last name for our report,” insisted the big cop. “OK. Since Paul is my partner and all, he and I have the last name, at least in our minds. So, I’m Grant Dickson,” Grant asserted confidently. The big cop drew up one of his massive hairy arms and reached into another shirt pocket, took out a small pad and pencil, and wrote that down. “Thanks, Grant.” Fuck me, what a hell of a huge and hairy arm – though not as big as Grant’s, that’s for sure. This was a sight to behold. Three very big musclemen standing toe to toe in my little living room, with me as the “host”. Unreal. “Officers, would you like to sit down? Can I get you some water or iced tea?” I asked. That felt so lame. Both sat down on the love seat that Grant and I had used to fuck our brains out earlier this morning. I hoped I hadn’t missed getting the leftover jizz cleaned up. Both were so damn big in the shoulders that there was no extra elbow room. Grant and I sat down in the other couch. The “power” tension in the room seemed to be subsiding, but the sexual tension was growing. “What are your names?” asked Grant innocently. “I’m Officer Max Anderson and this is my partner Officer Greg Vanderbilt,” said Officer Anderson. “So, Grant. Where have you competed?” asked Officer Vanderbilt. “Actually, I haven’t. Paul and I just moved here from my family farm in Idaho. Too busy managing the farm and lifting to compete,” Grant explained, just as he had at the gym. “Hell, man, we’ve been around a lot of very big guys but none have come even close to you in size or certainly in strength. Frankly, we couldn’t believe our eyes when you pushed that filled tanker back on its wheels,” said Officer Anderson. “Are you some kind of special forces Army project or something? Are they building a platoon of new supermen?” he continued with a bit of a know-it-all attitude. “Nope. I like to say I’m just built by God,” Grant said calmly. “Well, what the heck do you lift on the farm to get this fantastic build of yours?” asked Officer Vanderbilt. “Oh, almost anything that weighs at least a ton or more. Tractors. Loaded pick-ups. Cattle cars. You know, that kind of thing,” Grant said easily. Not missing a beat, Grant asked them both what they did in a dead lift and squat. They were easily distracted from asking Grant more questions by the opportunity that Grant had given them with his question back to them. They were clearly proud and wanted to talk. “I’ve done a dead lift at 955 and a squat at 857. Both were at the US Police Officers and Fireman’s Bodybuilding and Power lifting Competition in 2013,” said Officer Anderson with no small amount of pride. “I guess I’m still a work in progress. My dead lift is 910 and my squat is 825. But I’ve also taken 1st place in the 2012 super heavyweight class at the same bodybuilding competition,” said Officer Vanderbilt, not hiding his pride, either. “My partner here, does better at the power lifting,” he added. “Actually we challenge each other in alternating years – sometimes competing in the power lifting and then changing up our training and diet – big time -- to compete at the super-heavyweight body-building class and blow away the competition,” he added, even further. “Yeah, we are both into lots of power and muscle…just like you seem to be,” he observed. Grant saw another opportunity. “Excuse me a second and let me go get something,” he announced. The power, grace and his extraordinary musculature was not lost on these guys. They couldn’t take their eyes off of him. I had no idea what he was going to do. He came back with the v-shaped iron barbell bar that he had bent underneath his cock and balls while fucking the hell of out of me earlier in the morning. Again, I hoped he had cleaned his jizz off it before he brought it into the living room. “Maybe you guys, being successful lifters and body-builders would appreciate this. I bent this for Paul earlier this morning. I’m gonna bend it back right now so it’s straight,” Grant stated matter-of-factly. I could see the eyes of these guys open wide. They nervously shifted their big bodies but they had no where to go on the small couch. Taking each end in his massive hands, Grant flipped the V so the ends were up. Then, with barely any effort at all, his arm, shoulder, trap and chest muscles exploded as he powered the ends back down – slowly, clearly for effect -- into the original straight bar. “See, that’s what I do,” Grant said with his own justifiable pride. “Not possible. Gotta be bull-shit. What kind of bar do you actually have there, Grant?” demanded an indignant Officer Vanderbilt. Both were clearly very rattled at this amazing display of raw strength. “The same kind of bar I can bend totally around your wrists as a pair of cuffs, Officer,” challenged Grant. Officer Vanderbilt stood up, convinced Grant was a sham. He took the bar from Grant and tried to bend it himself. His upper body and arm muscles grew and grew fast. His sleeves actually split. “Fuck. Loose more uniforms this way,” he muttered. No bend. Nothing. “Fuck me. Okay, Grant, try to wrap this around my wrists.” He laughed derisively. Big mistake. Grant took the bar. The cop raised his thick arms, put his wrists out next to each other. Shit, what a power play this was gonna be. These guys have no idea what they’re getting themselves into. Grant took the bar, set it on top of the cop’s wrists and began to easily wrap both ends around the cop’s wrists, bringing the bar into a closed loop around the bottom of his wrists. I certainly wasn’t surprised but the cops were in disbelief. “No way. Holy shit, man. Where do get that kind of power?” screamed Officer Vanderbilt. He was standing there in a virtual steel bar prison – the same kind of prison he does for others when he arrests them. Only this time, Grant had “arrested” him with his extraordinary power and strength. This irony was such a turn-on for me, and no doubt for Grant, too. I wondered – from this display of muscles and strength from Grant -- if these guys had some cock-stirring going on, themselves. While this incredible display of power was going on, I was watching Officer Anderson almost absent mindedly massaging his hard cock. He was the one that had it running down in pant leg, sporting one hell of a VPL. I knew we’d get something good going with these muscle-cops. “Get this off me, now,” demanded Officer Vanderbilt. Grant easily wrapped his hands around both ends, pulled the bar out of the loop around the cop’s wrists, and straightened it once again. What a show! There was a sudden change in attitude by both of them. “Alright. Alright. You definitely got something going on, Grant. We don’t understand it. Not even close. But we’ve seen it. You’re absolutely amazing. We have never met such a man as you. You are so fuckin’ well built. You could take any bodybuilding contest at any time. You’re so damn strong, you could win the World’s Strongest Man Competition in a heart beat,” exclaimed Officer Anderson with passion and some undisguised lust. “And, fuck, I hate to admit it but you are the most sexy monster I’ve ever laid eyes on. And god knows, I’ve been with my share, including my partner, here,” added Officer Vanderbilt. “So, my friends, is it safe to say you two are really into muscle, mind-boggling strength, and great muscle-sex that only guys built like us understand and yearn deeply for?” Grant was laying it all out on the table. “Oh, fuck, yes. Guess you could tell we’re more than patrol partners. When we met two years ago at one of the competitions, we fell head over heels in lust with each other. Yes, we’re married to our wives, sorta. Max moved down here and joined my unit. Because we’re so fucking big and strong, the deputy chief keeps us together as a patrol unit. We’re always called into the worst situations because, between the two of us, we scare the fuck out of criminals. They see us and try to run or just give up,” explained Officer Vanderbilt. “We’re proud of that.” “The deputy chief and our sergeant don’t give a shit about our personal life, our sex life together, or our partnership in helping build the other up for power lifting or bodybuilding competitions. All the other officers really look up to us, want to be with us, and want to work out with us. Fuck, most of them want us to fuck them, which we do happily,” he added. “And there’s more…we think you guys would understand…we’re really into worshipping each other’s muscles. It’s such a turn on and inspiration for us both. And, when we go to competitions – always together – we love getting it on with other musclemen. They always love getting the two of us for one,” he said with a laugh. “We have quite a reputation…quite a following. We especially like other really big muscle guys who want to get it on,” he said proudly. “Okay, then, enough of “getting to know each other,” asserted Grant. “Let’s have some muscle worshipping and muscle sex among just the four of us. As you guys will see, Paul is expert at making us musclemen feel really appreciated. You up for that?” he asked the cops. “Fuck, yes. Ever since we saw you, your incredible muscles and massive body, and unbelievable strength in action at the accident, we’ve been really hot to get personal with you, Grant. You’re an amazing combination of incredible strength, a tall and fantastic build, and you are, as we said, as sexy as hell. Just what we like in our men. And, Paul, we’re not gonna leave you out of this. That’s for sure,” added Officer Vanderbilt. “Hey, Paul, would you like to do the honors of stripping us out of our muscle-hugging blues? We both saw your leers at the door. We know you want us,” said Officer Vanderbilt, explaining the obvious. “Fuck yes!” I hollered. “I get to do you one at a time,” I added enthusiastically. With that invitation, I wasted no time in getting in front of Officer Vanderbilt, the guy with the big dick and VPL. He put his huge arms up and gave me a pumped up double-bi that I manhandled with everything I had. I literally ripped his tight blue shirt right down the middle and pulled it off the front, out of his waist, and did the same thing on his back. God was he gorgeous. Fucking hair everywhere, and certainly not hiding any muscles or his definition. I pushed and mauled his back muscles while he did a rear bicep flex. Incredibly hard muscles. They jumped all over the place as he flexed them. I loved running my fingers through his thick hair. I came around in front and couldn’t resist going after his big long cock hanging down his pant leg. I pulled the zipper down and went digging for it in the flesh. Fuck. I was not disappointed. Very hard and warm. Very thick. I pumped it as best I could as he kept encouraging me with his posing hot muscle talk. Then I went after his belt, pulled the buckle apart, and yanked the belt off his waist. He kept right on posing. Unlatching the clasp and pulling down the zipper, I yanked his pants down to his ankles. What gay man, what muscle-addict, wouldn’t give the world to be stripping a massive muscle-cop? Shit, what a sight. Huge hairy slabs of veined quad beef. His cock sprang straight out. Big, thick, muscular and very veiny. Holy shit. What a crown he had on it. Almost as big as Grant’s. “Yep, that’s my real club,” he announced. He quickly stepped out of his pants. I pulled his socks and cop-issue boots off. What a huge specimen of hyper-masculine manhood! My hands went all over his quads and then I wrapped them around his cock and pumped him hard. He loved it. The other cop, meanwhile, was getting really wound up and moved in real close to the two of us. He was my next target. This blond monster had already split his sleeves a little earlier. Fuck. How sexy was that. He pumped his arms again and said “I’m all yours, Paul.” I wrapped my hands partially around his right bicep and tricep and couldn’t squeeze for love nor money. He was just so damn hard. I traced his pencil-thick veins with my tongue, soaking in the smell of manhood. I went down and grabbed the bottom of his skin tight shirt, pulled it out of his pants and, with all my strength, just about got the whole shirt off his body. He shook the rest of it off and went into a mind-blowing front chest pose. I grabbed at his hard pecs, squeezed his nips as hard as I could, and mauled his huge arm muscles. “Yeah, man, tell me you want me…all of me,” he demanded. God, I wanted to dive into his cleavage with my face and lick the hell out of his hair, tight skin, and striations. That could come later. Next, I went after his belt buckle. I wanted to see this huge package that was pushing out the zipper. After yanking his belt off, and unclasping the pants, I pulled the zipper down. His big black jock basket fell right out. Holy fuck. Perfect for a muscle-cop. I went after it with my hands…pushing and mauling it hard. Then I got down on my knees and drove my face into it, pushing it around with my face, teeth, and nose. The masculine scent was intoxicating. What a muscle-cop he was. My hands pulled down his pants and his beautiful black jock strap was a spectacular contrast to his white strips of muscle and light blue veins. “Yeah, that’s what you want, Paul. Take it. I’m all yours,” he demanded. With that I reached around and began yanking down his jock strap, one section at a time. Gradually his big cock and balls became center stage. As he continued to pose, he got hard in no time. Not as long as his partner, but almost twice as thick. And he sported another huge red crown. What a monster he was. I manhandled that cock and sucked the hell out of his big piss slit. Boy, did that turn him on. While I had been stripping these breathtaking muscle-cops, Grant had gone downstairs and brought up my bench press bench and put it in the middle of the living room floor. He had already stripped himself naked and was swinging his huge dick back and forth. He knew he was the “king of the muscle-god hill” and wanted to make sure these cops knew it. Their eyes, when not watching me strip them, were watching him like hawks and getting turned on big-time. “Alright men, we’re gonna have a four way, and more. Paul, strip and lay down on the bench with your ass up. Max you get on top of Paul and gently guide yourself into his cute tight little ass. Paul, just relax as best you can. Max proceeded to wrap his muscular arms around me and the bench, and started loosening me up with his hard cock. I was ready. God, I loved feeling his hair and all his muscles enveloping my little body. It was painful at my asshole at first but subsided quickly. He kept whispering how good my ass felt. I kept trying to massage his big dick with my ass muscles. I’ve wondered for years what it would be like to be fucked by a big hairy muscle-cop. Now it was actually happening. “Okay, Greg, you’re next. Go ahead and mount your hunky partner here. I’m sure you’ve done this many times. Right? Yep. Get up on top of him. Max, you loosen up and let your big strong loving cop partner get in. Max, be sure and hold yourself and Greg up enough so you don’t crush Paul. Yeah, that’s it…all the way in,” Grant coached. “Greg, be sure to grab Max around the chest and Paul, if you can. I want you guys to hold on for dear life.” “Alright Greg, I’m going to get on top of you. Don’t worry. My hard dick has more lube than 20 men. And I’m an expert at fucking men. Remember now, keep the weight off of Paul. Paul, you ok?” asked Grant with some concern. “I….think so…you guys just seem so heavy…but it feels great,” I responded. “Here I come Greg. Relax and open wide. Let me though. It won’t hurt much, I promise. Yeah. You got it. Your flexing ass muscles tell me you like me. That feels so damn good.” Grant was really getting into this scene of muscle-cop fucking. With that, Grant wrapped his huge long arms around the three of us. Easily squeezing his hands underneath me, along with Max. And we all did what comes instinctively to gay men. We all started to buck and hump each other. Groans and muscle talk filled my small living room. My cock, though it had nowhere to go, other than to be crushed by these three muscle-monsters, still responded by being real hard. I just humped the hell out of the bench. Then, without any hint of what was to come next, Grant, with his arms wrapped tightly around the three of us, proceeded to lift us all off the bench at the same time! God, what a show of superhuman strength and flexibility. All three of us were stunned as Grant bounced us hard. Grant in Greg. Greg in Max. And Max in me. Holy shit. Grant didn’t stop. He was so strong that his bouncing just added to the pumping and thrusting that we were doing to each other already. Grant was standing up straight now and still holding us all in place. It was unbelievable. He held us so tightly that there was no slipping out of position or out of each other’s ass. With my free hands, I started pumping my own cock, now that it was free from the pressure of being jammed into the bench. What a feeling being held by Max, Greg and my extraordinary muscle-god Grant. I made it a point to tell myself to go to these Police and Firemen Bodybuilding and Power Lifting Championships that these guys bragged about. I’d do it with Grant, of course. Once again, the possibilities were endless for us. We were all so turned on that we began to blow our wad into each other. Not to my surprise, I was the first to release three volleys of thick rope. Then I felt Max push harder into me as he started to scream expletives. Then my ass was all warm with his mother load of jizz. Next, it was Greg. My bet was that he was screaming both from punishing his muscle partner’s tight ass and having Grant pound him relentlessly. Greg let out a huge scream. He had delivered his loads. Grant took it up a notch, if that was possible, and, using his super-human strength, began bouncing us even harder and using that bouncing to pound the hell out of Greg’s ass. Holding us even tighter, he let loose with one scream after another…one, undoubtedly, for each load into Greg. God only knows what the neighbors heard. I didn’t care. Gently, Grant let us down onto the bench and pulled his huge arms from around us. “Shit, that is what I call real muscle-sex. I hope you guys liked it as much as I did,” Grant said with his ever-present enthusiasm. All three of us were breathless. We had never imagined such man-to-man sex was possible. We had been treated to a four-way that only some superman like Grant could pull off. We couldn’t stop talking about how amazing, extraordinary, and mind-fucking that experience of muscle-sex was for each of us. Grant loved the compliments and all the appreciation for what he and his incredible strength, and massive and powerful muscles, had made possible, yet again. The three of us couldn’t contain our extreme passion to want to feel up all of Grant’s incredibly pumped up muscles. He soaked it right in. We were all over him with our hands and tongues. Max took Grant’s huge cock as far into his mouth as he could. I could tell he was biting and chewing the hell out of it. Grant loved it. Greg and I went after Grant’s enormous traps, feeling and punching those, and his huge delts and arms. His posing was awe-inspiring. No matter what pose he gave us, his muscles, veins, and striations just mushroomed out of his huge body. Grant grabbed our cocks and the same time and gave us some unforgettable pumps. We all seemed to explode with cum at the same time. It was both exhausting and exhilarating. Thank god I have an extra large hot water tank. We had more fun feeling each other up and sword playing with our hard cocks. Being in the warm water just elicited some amazing posing routines and all the intense muscle worship that goes with it. Clearly, we were bonded. Greg and Max lay around for a while, small towels wrapped around their gorgeous hairy bodies. Grant and I stayed naked and he held me in his arms while I rested a bit. I was, understandably, both overwhelmed and exhausted. Finally our muscle-cops put on the clothes that hadn’t been destroyed. We gave them some shirts to cover themselves. We exchanged heart-felt long bear hugs all around. As their cop car pulled away, they hit the flashing lights and siren. I took that as yet another “thanks”. Grant and I, having had an unbelievable and extraordinary day, crawled underneath the covers. We spooned. I had my backside to his front as he kept reminding me he was there by throbbing his hard cock into my backside. I used his huge left arm as a warm pillow all night long. Copyright © [email protected] Feedback welcomed. No flames, please. Part VIII to follow

Dr. Colby Raines is an inventor that has developed some very important treatments for a lot of sick people. He has even been nominated for some major medical awards, even though he never won them. He is well-known for having a brilliant mind. Despite this expertise in the medical field though, deep down he has always had a longing for a different kind of achievement. His interest in muscle growth led him to start work on a new chemical designed to turn weaklings into crazy huge studs. He has always had great sponsors for his breakthroughs, but many decided to pass on this new project. He has to dig into his monetary donations from his donors for his research. He doesn’t use lab mice, but rather small cats because he knows he can save them from being put down at the local pounds. He learned that he has less difficulty dealing with cats and can see their development a little better. The chemical he is developing is a blue powder that is ingested using only a spoon. With the cats however, it isn't as easy to get it into their bodies so he has to mix it in with their canned food. For this chemical, he went searching for hairless cats that are slightly malnourished. He found one and brought it into the lab to put into a steel cage. He sprinkles a little bit of the powder into the cat food and feeds it to the cat. The hungry cat gobbles down the food and doesn't even notice that the chemical is inside. He never expected an immediate reaction, so he decides to leave the cat alone so it can sleep it off. When he goes in the next day, he is stunned to see the huge changes the cat has experienced. Its sinewy body is now full of enormous muscles and the cage appears to be suffocating it to death as it gasps for air. He decides to release it into the lab to study its behavior. It immediately starts roaring and goes straight for the door. Raines is amazed as the giant cat plows through the steel door and leaves a huge hole. It is at this point that he realizes he can go a step further and find a willing human subject. He places an ad out in the media looking for a skinny male in need of some quick cash and a place to stay while taking the tests. After screening several candidates, he chooses a 20 year old college student who has been living in a rundown apartment fairly close to the lab. He meets Raines at the lab a week after being interviewed and says that he is grateful to be involved in something so cool. He tells Raines that he is a runner and his metabolism is quite high so food rarely puts any weight on him at all. He is shown around the lab and points directly at the chemical located in a bowl on one of your lab counters. He walks up to it and remarks about the blue color. Raines says that he has never developed a chemical in that shade before and just decided to do so with this one to be different. The young guy, Gavin, takes a little pinch of it and sticks it on his tongue. The two men both laugh when they look in the mirror and see his blue tongue sticking out. Raines proceeds to show the man where he will be staying inside the facility. His room is located very close to where he will be tested for the chemical. The doctor notices that instead of him being nervous, the young man is excited because he wants to experience something unique in his life. Raines cautions him that this is quite dangerous, but the man seems rearing to go with the project. He is given a spoonful of the chemical and told to take it with the bottle of water sitting on the table with the chemical. He takes it and pours the contents into the bottle and shakes it up to get it as mixed as possible. It turns the water into a crystal blue colored hue and he drinks the entire bottle. Raines tells him to go lie down now in the relaxation chamber located on the other side of the lab. Gavin retrieves his E-reader and takes it in with him to read some of the books he stored in it before he came over. Within the first 15 minutes, the doctor notices the man getting quite sweaty. The man motions for Raines to come in and monitor his heartbeat. The beats are moving so fast that he loses track of them, but he expected an extreme reaction anyway. He decides to leave him alone for awhile, but will return to monitor him. Gavin decides to start reading again while the doctor goes back to making his notes. When Raines turns to look at the young man, he is floored that the once Caucasian man is beginning to see his skin change to an olive color. The shape of his face is getting rounder and his eyes are changing from green to hazel. He documents these changes as well as his body transformation. His slender ectomorph body is rapidly changing to a mesomorph. He hears Gavin’s bones cracking and reforming seemingly making room for some kind of dramatic growth. It stops finally after probably twenty minutes with practically a brand new man in the chamber. The darker looking young man seems to have no idea of his amazing changes as he stares at the doctor with curiosity. Raines finally opens the chamber door to go inside to check on him. Gavin’s cluelessness of the situation makes the doctor think that it changes the brain to the point that it is unaware of any physical transformations. The olive stud went into the chamber wearing just his underwear and is now straining those with his obviously larger crotch. He still seems pretty docile and wonders what is next. Raines decides that he will give him a bigger dose of the chemical tomorrow to see if the growth will continue. Gavin’s eyes get larger as he smiles and nods in anticipation. The doctor tells him to get some sleep and he will see him in the morning. The second day comes around and Raines gives the young stud a bigger water bottle with the blue powder. Gavin chugs it down and immediately the growth starts. This second time though, the man’s personality changes and he gets more volatile. He is getting considerably taller and his body is growing wildly. He threatens to break out of the chamber if Raines doesn't give him any more. He manages to hide a little bit of the chemical away from Gavin and gives him the rest. The irritable man pours the chemical down his throat and growls as he feels himself growing again. This turns out to be the biggest mistake the doctor could make because the man’s power is getting astronomical. He grows so rapidly that the chamber begins to buckle and the man’s size makes the metal give way. Raines runs into the next room to escape but he hears Gavin’s heavy feet coming for him. The massive man catches the doctor, turns him around to give him an evil smile, and attempts to do something that he may not want to be a part of. Before Raines can leave the basement of the medical facility, Gavin pins him against the wall and pushes his weight against the doctor making him submit to the hulk. He starts to bate him trying to find out what happened to the rest of the chemical. He starts to search Raines and finally plunges his huge hand into the doctor’s pocket and pulls it out. The seven foot, 400 pound behemoth then forces his tongue into Raines’s mouth and makes him give in. He tries to resist, but the hulking brute threatens violence if he does. He takes the container and opens it up. He releases his lips from the doctor’s long enough to pours the remainder of the blue chemical on to Raines’s tongue. He tries to spit it out, but Gavin grabs his cock and promises that he will rip it off if he decides to do 'something foolish'. He closes the doctor’s mouth with his huge hands and makes him go to a water fountain close by. He tells you to drink the water and swallow the concoction. Raines attempts to spit out the powder, but Gavin wraps his massive arms around his waist and starts to squeeze making his back start popping. He is having a hard time breathing and realizes that he may be killed by the huge man. The hulk takes one of his arms and puts it over the doctor’s mouth to make him swallow it. Then he falls on the ground with Raines in his arms still and holds him tightly to keep him restrained. The doctor realizes at that moment that this man had a deep desire to be crazy big and was willing to do whatever it took to get there. Gavin starts to whisper in his ear how he won't regret this and that he should have taken the chemical when he first developed it. After about an hour of sitting in that spot, Raines feels himself starting to sweat profusely which makes Gavin put his left hand in the doctor’s pants to stroke him. He writhes trying to make him stop, but he can't move. It seems that the massive brute is trying to relax him so he will give in to the change, but he won't do it. He decides to let go of the doctor who immediately runs for the basement door. He manages to stop Raines before he gets them and pushes him away from the handle. He bends the metal on the door frame and prevents him from getting out. He taunts Raines and tells him that it is too late and he has no choice but to give in inner desires. He goes to get some food out of the kitchen and leaves him by himself. The doctor attempts to bend the metal back to where it was, but it is way too thick. His body is not strong enough to do anything about it. Gavin peers out the corner of the kitchen and starts laughing at him. He grabs Raines’s arms and puts them behind him back before dragging him into a sleeping area. He closes the door behind him and sits directly in front of it. He tells the doctor to come over and service him to take his mind off of the stress he is experiencing. Raines refuses and tells him to 'go fuck himself'. He laughs and says that in an hour or two, he won't even remember saying that. After pacing the sleep area for an hour now, the doctor goes to lie on a bed and feels his breathing getting heavier. Gavin starts jacking off because he senses the changes coming for him. He tells him to start growing already as Raines yells back that it will never happen. He laughs again and says that he can't stop it. The pain is becoming quite unbearable now as the doctor feels his back cracking and his height pushing him further down the bed. His lab coat is now filling up with new muscles. He can feel the chemical flowing through his entire body now. Gavin laughs as he sees the doctor’s arms shredding his sleeves revealing a new skin color and thickening body hair. His eyes have turned from green to blue also. He moans as his personality changes to a more aggressive nature. The massive hulk is cumming as he watches the puny doctor becoming a bigger and more dominant one. Raines’s growing chest is popping the buttons on his coat revealing massive brown pecs and wide chocolate abs. His back and shoulders are ripping the whole back of it to shreds. His pants are fraying under the gargantuan mass of his legs. The doctor’s small cock is exploding in size as his DNA dramatically changes. It grows so much that it busts through the top of his pants and causes them to rip all the way down to his calves. Gavin jumps to his feet to go service the huge doctor. Raines’s mammoth foot long is waiting to be serviced as Gavin tastes the sweetness of his reborn cock as he forces him down on it. At this point, the doctor has completely changed his skin color and demands to be worshipped while he fucks Gavin. The young behemoth is so turned on by this that he squirts a huge jet of cum onto his master’s newly formed chest. The two huge hulks end up fucking each other back and forth several times pumping their seed into each other before they finally pass out from the exhaustion.

Here is a story I've been working on for some time. If you like it I can continue it. Ok, I removed the text file and posted the story below in a more formatted scheme. Check it out by scrolling down. Sorry it is so long, I kept writing and changing until I was more happy with it.

I watched as Colin strode to the locker room with confidence. Just a few short weeks ago, he made the same walk, and seemed to be consumed by the energy of all the other athletes. This time, Colin pushed the door open and just stood there. Still clad in only his briefs, I could see his big chest heave as he inhaled slowly and deeply. His lats expanded and pushed out a bit. And before anyone even noticed him there, the room started to quiet down. This time, it seemed as if Colin was consuming all the energy being thrown off by the team. Colin scanned the room quickly and quietly. I could tell he was not only sizing everyone up, but by instinct he was assessing their athletic skills too. His eyes rested on a most unlikely subject. Marcus was a junior, and at the age of 21, a most unlikely member of the baseball team. He stood about 5 7, and a wiry 140lbs. Although he tried hard to keep up with the other players, he was leagues behind them in physical prowess. It was no secret that Marcus was on the team only because his father made a huge donation to the university. He was wet, having just come from the shower, and seemed to be having difficulty getting his padlock open. He sensed Colin's eyes and turned towards him. There were a few other guys nearby, much bigger than Marcus and they seemed to be snickering. They all turned and looked at Colin. "What's going on here?" Colin asked. Marcus looked up at him. "They jammed a pencil into my lock, and now I can't get it open." Colin looked at the biggest of the guys. Jackson stood about 6 5, easily 220lbs. "Did you do this?" Jackson replied "yea dude, you have a problem with that?" I got nervous for Colin. Jackson was clearly bigger and stronger, and I was afraid Colin was underestimating him. Colin put one hand on Jackson's shoulder. In the other, he cradled the padlock. I could see his grip on Jackson tighten up just a bit, and I recalled how he took the car keys from me so easily. Even with Colin's new size, this was a confrontation that I was afraid would end badly. Jackson was clearly bigger, and even though he could have pushed back, he just sort of relaxed into Colin's grip. I watched the calm demeanor on Colin's face. As his grip on Jackson tightened, he simultaneously gripped the padlock. Looking right at Jackson, he said, "Don't mess with Marcus again, okay, he is on my team now." "Your team?" said Jackson derisively. "This is my team Colin. You tried out once and were a huge flop." "Yea well, can't you see that things have changed?" replied Colin. "If you stick by me, Jackson, maybe I'll show you how to do this." And Colin's bicep pumped, he squeezed his grip and snapped the padlock and clasp right off the locker. He held the padlock up in Jackson's face. "How did you do that?" asked Jackson incredulously. Colin didn't even reply, he just squeezed Jackson's shoulder a bit harder until his knees started to buckle. "My team now Jackson. Now give me your cleats and baseball pants, I have a team to lead." A bit stunned, Marcus looked up at Colin in awe. Jackson turned to his locker, which, as it turns out, was locked. Feeling humiliated, I could see Jackson gripping the padlock. He tried to use his sizable body to block everyone's view, but we could all see as he tried to bust the clasp open. After several miserable failed attempts, Marcus just spoke up. "COLIN" was all he said, and that was ll Colin had to hear. He stepped ahead, pushing Jackson aside, gripped the padlock and in one brief instant snapped that off as well. Colin just reached into Jackson's locker and took out his cleats and baseball pants. He pulled on the pants, and they hugged his glutes and quads almost to the point of bursting. Colin held up the cleats, and said "only a size 13, but they will have to do for now." Jackson was clearly cowed by now. He reached into his locker and pulled out his jersey, and offered it to Colin. Colin just scoffed and said "I don't need that. But give me your tank top Jackson." And in a flash, Colin was wearing, or more accurately, bursting out of Jackson's tank top. Even with the most recent growth spurt, Colin was still not the biggest guy in the room. But he seemed to be the most powerful, with a lot of still untapped potential. Being on this team would be the final catalyst. Jackson stepped forward, clearly understanding that the pecking order had changed. He was still a powerful, strong guy - and still bigger than Colin. But instead of lording that over the rest of the team, as he was used to doing, he seemed to be offering himself to Colin. "Train me Colin. I'm a good athlete, you will see. This team can go to the playoffs. Please, train me." Colin stood in the middle of the locker room, sizing up Jackson. After a few tense moments, he barked "JEREMY. BRENDAN." And in a flash, those two shirtless powerhouses were standing next to Colin. Colin started to circle Jackson, almost assessing him. "Tell us your stats Jackson." " 6 5. 210 at my last weigh in." "This is my team now Jackson. But with me here, now everyone is a winner. Everyone will benefit from my gifts. You are a good athlete Jackson, and you can and will get better. Brendan and Jeremy have learned from me, and they will train you, and you will become an athlete beyond your wildest expectations. I save my primary attention for those with the most potential." "Who is that?" asked Jackson, crestfallen. Colin's eyes scanned the room. Sensing the attention when those eyes landed on him, Marcus just straightened up, and inhaled. We could all see he had a good frame. He stepped forward. Colin now had one hand on Marcus, and one hand on Jackson. The contrast was stunning. Colin said to Jackson "Brendan and Jeremy will train you now." He looked at Marcus and said, "Marcus, I can tell you have tremendous untapped potential. I will train you personally." Marcus seemed to withstand Colin's grip well. He just said, with utter resolve, "You will not be disappointed Colin."

Prologue -And So It Begins- The bright moon sits up high in the dark night sky, along with the endless amount of stars and constellations, casting an eerie glow down on a small backwater town in northern California. This is where the rumors originated from, well they were rumors at first, but that’s not to be discussed at this present time. Let’s just get to the story, how this new revolutionary serum came into this world, how it came into my possession, and how it changed all of our lives… ************************************************** ******* Victoria Evans walked down the dark hallway with a bounce in her step. This red headed vixen was an assistant to a doctor working on genetic DNA fusion, you know, the combination of one set of DNA code with another set, I’m sure you all have heard of this before. Where was I, oh yes! Victoria, this perfect woman. Any straight guy would practically do back flips just to talk to her; 27 year-old, size 36DD bust, pouty cherry lips, emerald green eyes, long legs, and a year round tan --- Yeah, you guys get the picture. Anyways, moving on… The dark hallways had very little light, only enough to see a few feet in front of the person. Victoria walked around the maze like building, her 4 inch heels *clacking* with each step that she took in her fast paced trek to the animal facilities lab on the basement level of BUCK ENT. As she made her way around another corner, in her lab coat and carrying a metal case at her side with one hand, a bright light comes into view on the wall to her right side a few hundred meters away. As she approaches the light, she turns left into the door of the lab. “Did you manage to get it, Victoria,” A man who appeared to be in his late 70s asked the redheaded she-devil. Victoria smiled, the dimples on her cheeks gave off a body shuttering feeling if you saw it; kind of a cross between pleased and maniacal. “Why do you always ask such stupid questions, Dr. Osborne,” she commented on his ridiculous remark, slamming the silver, metal case onto a table next to the computer he was working off of. “I always get what I want; you should know that by now.” The old doctor chuckled. “You sure do,” he said, ogling her breasts with his eyes. The female assistant cleared her throat, snapping the doctor back to attention. “Do you mind? You said you wanted this stuff tonight, so I got it; let’s finish the project tonight.” The older man blushed, “ah, yes.” He flipped open the latches on each side of the metallic case, opening the lid up. All that was inside was black padding and a small vial with crimson colored liquid. The doctor’s eyes took in the sight of it, his small eyes opening up wide. For years he had searched for a way to gain back what he had lost decades ago. His whole purpose for BUCK ENT was to compete against other leading manufacturer companies in the department of health related problems. As he started to lose his hair in his early 30s, he wished for a way to regain it; hair loss, something all men wished that they never had to experience. He was assigned the task to make a product for BUCK ENT to compete against other companies who have claimed to create different products to treat/stop hair loss and/or grow back the hair that was already lost. This was assigned to him a little over a decade ago. However, the small vial containing the crimson red substance was the missing catalysis to the doctors many years of research and development. With the last ingredient now in his possession, he finally felt like he had achieved his life goal that god had left for him to complete. Dr. Osborne delicately removed the vial from the case, holding it up to the light above him…”It’s time Victoria,” he craned his neck around, gazing deep into her eyes. She smirked, moving over to the computer terminal and began to type on the keyboard. “What specimen are we using?” The doctor removed his lab coat, grabbing a needle filled with what appeared to be blood. “Diceros bicornis,” he grinned at her. Her eyes went wide. “You can’t be serious?! Why not use the usual standard type?!” She looked on at him, frightened. His sagging old skin and withered body, standing up at a very unimpressive height of 5’3” slouched over. “Do not get in my way girl! This is my moment of triumph! I will finally be able to regain all that I have lost!” Did I mention that since it took so long, the doctor has also decided a way to change ones body as well? Well, I didn’t know that either until I, myself, actually tried it. The concepts are simple combine one set of DNA code with another. This is done with the combination of each specimen’s blood and the injection of whatever is in that vial of red liquid; the red liquid is what bonds the code together, making some sort of super DNA code. “But the diceros bicornis species is known for its-“ “Do you think I do not know that Ms. Evans,” he stopped her before she could finish. “I have always planned to use the diceros bicornis species. The black rhino is a powerful beast, one that will make a perfect hybrid human with its massive size, overly powerful strength, and its territorial temperament; it fits in perfect with the male society of the world. Males thinking that they own it all; now they can, starting with my transformation. I am the first step in this new evolutionary stage.” The doctor uncapped the needle, injecting it into a vein in his arm. He proceeded to move over to where the much younger female was standing, still in shock of what the doctor would eventually become. “Hand over the vile.” Very shakily she began to move the hand with the vial out to meet the doctor’s hand. She was however moving a bit to slow for the old man, who had waited many years for this one moment. The doctor quickly grabbed it from her hand. “Thank you, my dear Victoria,” a pleasant look on his face. The doctor took a few steps back, pulling out another needle from the pocket of his pants. Uncapping the top, exposing the pointed tip, he stabs it into the vial, removing all of the crimson liquid. He tosses the empty vial at a wall; it shatters into thousands of tiny shards. Osborne completely ignores Victoria now; his only focus is the needle, which he holds up to the light, entranced by its brilliant color. “Thank you,” was the last words out of his mouth, as he pushed the needle into the vein in his arm, releasing the substance throughout his entire body. The substance flowed through his blood stream, reshaping the code that made him who he was; redefining everything about him, both body and mind. Within a few minutes, it begins: Osborne lets out a grunt of satisfaction, his back arching back, arms spread out wide. The sagging skin on his body begins to pull up, returning close to his withered body, and then hardening. Wrinkles begin to fade away; muscles begin to return that he once had. His arms firm up arms swell up and begin to bulge in size; his biceps becoming almost comparable to softballs, but with an indestructible firmness. His forearms become thick and meaty. His veins begin to pump a new kind of blood throughout his body; they appear like snakes growing under his skin, laid out on top of the expanding muscle. His shoulders elongate, making way for his expanding chest; what once sagged now is hard and firm, as youthful and powerful like a college football jocks. His descended ribcage pushed out, forming a tight 6 pack, then reshaping again to become an 8 pack. A perfect v-shape formed, descending down into his already growing lower-body. While the top was reshaping, so was the lower half. The doctor’s legs were already swelling huge, his thighs swelling huge, calves were not that far from catching up. Osborne was beginning to become a very powerful muscle beast, that is, until the other thing happened; He never actually did stop growing. A massive euphoric bliss overcame the old, muscled up doctor. He reached down, grabbing the mid section of his pants, completely tearing them off of his body. There to behold was his small penis, unused for years, beginning to get hard and grow within the confines of his briefs. He grunted as it continued to fill up the insides of the material, getting thicker and longer, engorging more and more with the combined DNA of the two different species, until the underwear gave way. A giant erected cock and massive testicles were released from the cotton material; the cock slapping hard against Osborne’s abs and the balls hanging down low between his muscular thighs. Osborne stared in awe at the giant piece of meat he now possessed, it was his meat, his possession; pretty much his territory. Osborne grabbed hold of it with his hand, he couldn’t believe how this was happening. The cock and balls and the muscles of his body continued to grow and expand as he began to stroke his cock furiously in an almost rage like style. Then it happened, as his balls began to churn, as seed began to rush up the long flesh like tube to greet the air outside, Osborne clutched at his chest. In the distance, Victoria began to laugh at the old man. “You stupid fool; the stuff only works if you already have a body for it. You already being such an old man never took into accounts on the impact it would have on your organs such as your already half-working heart. Guess you won’t be able to see your dreams fulfilled, grandpa.” Osborne was shocked, all of his research and experimentation, only for it to be credited now to this bitch. His life long dream of living a youthful life has now began to fade away. He looked on at Victoria, anger filled his eyes, but there was nothing he could do as orgasmic bliss enraptured his entire growing body. The cock that now reached up to his massive shelf like pecs erupted hot, volcanic semen from the massive bulbous head. Osborne fell backwards, hitting the floor, cock still shooting massive globs of hot semen into the air, as he passed into the other life. Victoria reached into her lab coat and picked up her cell phone, turning around to the empty metal case. She hit one of the buttons on her phone, speed dialing a call. “Yes, this is Victoria,” she said a bit more energetically. “Of course, I have it.” She closed the case and latched it the way it was originally and began to walk out of the room into the dark hallways of the basement maze. She stopped at the door, “Of course. I will be right there,” with a swipe of her hands everything went dark, “Mr. Buck.”

Here's another Super Hero themed story that I don't think I ever posted on the old forum. The Mission Both Sam and I tried to simultaneously look cool and scurry the last few yards to make it across yet another large intersection before the onslaught of automobiles could get up to speed after the traffic light changed. We weren't very successful - at looking cool I mean. Well, at least I wasn't. Sam on the other hand always looked cool. Even so, most of the city residents around us - were they of a mind to pay attention to anyone else on the street - would have spotted the two of us as out-of-towners in pretty short order. When you are a couple of small-town guys settling in as freshmen at the city's most prestigious university, getting used to new things is almost a full time occupation. Being pedestrians on the hyper-busy city streets was just another adjustment to be made. My name is Will Miller. My friend, Sam Munson and I were both the lucky recipients of full athletic scholarships and beginning our first year of post-secondary study in the big city. We'd known each other since grade-school and had pretty much been best-friends from the first day we'd met. We had quickly become a couple of those persistently paired kids whose names gradually melded into a familiar, collectively identifying phrase like "Ben and Jerry" or "Bert and Ernie". Where ever one was, you could usually be sure the other wasn't far off. Sam and Will. And just like his name's appearance in the order of that collective moniker, Sam was always number one. He excelled at just about everything he put his mind to. We had similar interests and abilities and though I was always very proficient and capable at whatever endeavor I might undertake, Sam was always better. The degree to which that was true had become apparent so clearly and so early in our friendship that I had long since come to terms with my role as 'wingman' and harbored no bitterness about it. In fact, trying to keep pace with Sam as we grew up together probably drove me to be a more accomplished student and athlete than I would have otherwise become had I never met him. I like to think that being pushed by me, hot on his heels as the determined, perpetual runner-up in life had helped to make Sam a little better too. But that was probably a conceit. Sam never seemed 'pushed' or threatened by anything. He wasn't cocky, really - he was too reserved for that. He had a kind of innate, confident detachment that gave him that aura of unflappable cool that I mentioned earlier. This meant that Sam could be a hard one to read, even for me. Playing poker with Sam was like being systematically fleeced by one of those inscrutable heads from Easter Island. The guy would probably clean house in a tournament. As I've said, I never really begrudged Sam his successes, even when - as was most always the case - those successes meant that I came in second best. But one aspect of our lifelong, friendly competition did occasionally rankle me ever so slightly. While I would exhaust myself training or studying for months in order to make my best effort at something, Sam often seemed to just go through the motions. I mean, it's not like he was a slacker or anything, he would be there at the gym just as often as I would be; he would check out similar kinds of reference material and the same books. But I rarely noticed him actually reading any of them. I don't think I ever saw the guy actually break a sweat but still, there he would always be - accepting that ribbon for first place. I slowed to a stop, gawking at a window display at an electronics store. The latest shiny toys from Apple beckoned seductively. I had almost enough money for an entry level model in my bank account just for the purpose of buying a new laptop for school. "That's not the mission, Will." Sam called, breaking the spell of my gadget-lust. I turned to see him further up the street, slowly walking backwards, waiting for me to catch up. Once Sam started talking about 'the mission', there was no deterring him, whatever the mission might be at any particular moment. Right now it was making it to the start of a movie on time. I trotted to catch up as we rounded the corner and headed down the block to the movie theater. There was a line of maybe a couple dozen people outside the actual entrance. "At least the line isn't around the block," I offered. "Sometimes the fans for these superhero flicks can be a little intense". As for me and movies based on comic books, I could take 'em or leave 'em. But Sam never missed one. He would watch them intently - almost like he was listening to an academic lecture. Before our arrival, the end of the line was occupied by a couple of girls who looked to be around our age. They seemed none too happy to be there. "I'm not going to wait much longer." One was saying to the other. "How late are they?" The other of the book-end blonds demanded with exasperation. "Almost twenty minutes. Do you really want to see this dorky movie if it's just us? C'mon lets get out of here." The four of us exchanged perfunctory nods and smiles as Sam and I joined the line. The girl that had suggested they leave was suddenly pulled back into line by the other. "Maybe we won't have to see it alone, after all." She said, casting a devilish glance at Sam and myself. Sam and I had both always been considered handsome enough. With the slight edge going to Sam of course. And the fact that we were both longtime accomplished gymnasts meant that our muscular builds were detectable no matter our attire. Focused as he was on obtaining our tickets before show-time, Sam didn't notice the girl's flirtation alert level shift into defcon-1, but I saw it coming. "So, Hello boys." began the bolder of the two girls. "If you two are joining someone here, hope you don't get stood up like we apparently have been." "Umm, no." Sam replied. It took him a moment to realize the young woman was talking to the two of us. "We aren't meeting anyone." "Well," The girl smiled, invitingly. "I think you just did. I'm Lisa and this is Sonya." Before either of us could respond, an ear-splitting police siren blared to life only a few car-lengths down the street from our position - close enough and loud enough to startle even the most jaded resident of Metropolis. Everyone in line turned reflexively to watch as the cop-car left its spot in the traffic lane and began to weave its way along through any break it could find in the river of cars around it. It had no more than worked its way a half a block along when a fire engine came wailing along to fall in behind the police car. Neither vehicle was going to make it anywhere fast. That's when we got our first sighting. Everyone says that you don't feel like a true resident of Metropolis until your first, in-the-flesh sighting of Superman in action. It happened so fast that at first, I wasn't sure WHAT I was seeing. A purplish blurr hurtled from far down the street opposite the direction in which the emergency response vehicles were trying to go. It vanished beneath the fire engine. Suddenly, Sam started in that direction, apparently no longer interested in the movie. He was moving fast. "Hey," I called as I ran after him. "Wait up." Then, like someone mimicking the Statue of Liberty, suddenly Superman stood amidst the gridlock. Only instead of a torch, he was holding the fire truck - with one hand and a super-humanly muscular arm that looked as though hefting the weight of a mere multi-tonne piece of firefighting equipment was not even a decent warm-up. Sam skidded to a stop on the sidewalk opposite where Superman stood in the street. A half-second later, I caught up to Sam. I was panting a little. I had really had to run flat-out to keep Sam in sight and he had still been pulling away from me pretty steadily. If he hadn't stopped when he had, I might have lost him in the crowd. I grabbed him by his upper arm forcefully, trying to get his attention. "What the heck is up with you?" I had never known Sam to be this excitable about anything. As I confronted Sam, Superman rose into the air, slowly at first, so as not to shake-up the firemen too much, then soared on over the traffic, picking up speed fast, obviously intending to get the truck to its destination more quickly. Sam didn't even look at me. His eyes never left Superman. "You should let go." He said, absently. I felt the muscles of his arm flex. Sam had biceps an Olympian might envy and when he flexed you knew it, but I also felt something else from his arm. It was like he was vibrating or full of electricity or something. I barely had time to register the strange sensation before Sam bolted again. He took off with such speed and force that it nearly yanked my arm out of its socket. I stumbled a few steps after him as though swept along in his wake before I was able to find my balance again. I stared after him, stunned and surprised as I rubbed my aching shoulder. But Sam was nowhere in sight. I took off at a trot, not really sure if I was heading in the right direction. I glanced around to see if I could spot him as I moved, unwilling to believe that he'd managed to move clean out of sight so quickly. I slowed to a frustrated walk and was about to give up when I saw the smoke. It had to be three or four blocks away; a column of dingy, dark gray against the brilliant blue sky. If Sam was after Superman and Superman was heading toward that fire then I figured that would be where I'd find him. I rotated my arm around my traumatized shoulder joint and winced at the pain. I thought I knew Sam's limits as far as strength and speed as well as anyone. I knew he was an impressive guy, but the ache in my shoulder and the way he had so easily outpaced me left me wondering if maybe my friend really had been holding back all these years. I set off toward the fire. As I weaved my way through the dense pedestrian traffic, I was baffled by how Sam must have moved at such speed through so many people. I stripped off the long-sleeved shirt I was wearing, leaving only one of the white, "wife-beater" undershirts I liked to wear. I found these shirts a reasonable balance between being able to show off a bit when things got a little warm, and not seeming too obvious about wanting to do so. Also, if I wanted to elbow my way through the crowd of spectators that was gathering, looking a little bit intimidating wasn't going to hurt. As I made my way forward toward the curb, things started getting more chaotic. Police were trying to move people back from a fairly large skyscraper, but there were too few officers available for the task to accomplish this. Looking up, I saw no actual flames, but smoke was pouring from one side of the building. Returning my attention to the crowd around me, I spotted Sam. He was moving steadily toward the base of the stricken building, one of the few people still doing so. Making sure the nearest cop wouldn't see me, I ducked under the line of yellow tape they had managed to partially string up and headed for Sam. That's when I noticed something large come around the side of the smoking skyscraper. At first I thought it was a helicopter, but then, through a break in the smoke, I saw that it was Superman. Incredibly, he still had the fire tanker in one hand. With the other, he was dousing the fire with the truck's powerful fire-hose. He performed the impossible task with the same ease with which a gardener might spray weed-killer on his lawn with one of those hand pumped pressure sprayers. His heroic task complete, The Man of Steel levitated himself and the tanker back to earth, landing near the truck's applauding crew. Tearing my eyes away from this amazing scene, I turned my attention back to Sam. I located him again, striding purposefully toward the firemen and Superman. I couldn't explain why, but I was feeling very uneasy about the whole situation. Sam was NOT one for hero-worship. I couldn't figure out why he had fixated on Superman so intensely all of a sudden. "Sam!" I shouted as loud as I could to overcome the din. I waved my arms frantically to get his attention. For a moment, he turned and looked right at me and I saw recognition in his eyes. Then he smiled ruefully and continued on toward the squad of firemen who were enthusiastically shaking hands with Superman. "Crap!" I didn't know what was going on, but I didn't like it. I sprinted after him. There was something about having Sam and Superman so close to each other that unsettled me on a fundamental level. Sam didn't lose. Sam never suffered by comparison. Sam was at the superlative extreme in the way I viewed the world. Considering Sam and Superman within the same framework was like pondering the old hypothetical conundrum of what happened when irresistible force met immovable object. Of course, Sam wasn't in Superman's league and maybe that was the problem. Maybe I didn't like having Sam toppled from his pedestal in my own little personal world view. Sam slipped into the line of firemen that Superman was slowly making his way along, shaking hands as he went. Within a couple of seconds, I had joined him there. "Would you please tell me what the heck is going on with you?" I asked. "We shouldn't be here. We are, in fact, probably gonna be in a world of trouble. What are you trying to accomplish?" "The Mission." He informed me without looking at me. I almost laughed. "Typical. Everything is a 'mission' with you." Then Sam did turn and look at me. He looked sad. I couldn't for the life of me figure out why this might be, but I felt a strange, cold dread for no reason I could identify. "Not anymore." He explained. The sadness in his expression melted away, replaced by a zen-like determination. "Now I know what the mission is. The real one." "'Kay." I said, as though humoring a crazy person. "Have you, by any chance, halted some medication regimen that you shouldn't have." I added sarcastically. That's when Sam started undressing. He had slowly and deliberately doffed his shirt and watch and was working on his belt before I could snap out of my shock. I gathered up his shirt and his watch and then the belt that he had dropped indifferently to the sidewalk just as he unzipped and dropped his pants. "Sam! Cut it out." I demanded as he stepped out of his jeans. He stood and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his briefs. "I dropped the rest of his clothes back to the ground and grabbed him by his wrists before that final unveiling. "Whoa, there Lady Godiva." I grunted as I struggled to stop him. "Sam!" I yelled into his face, trying to get him to look at me. "You are going to get yourself arrested. How will that help the mission?" I had finally decided that pretending to buy into whatever madness had come over him might be the only way to reason with him. He looked at me, finally. But I did not see the Sam I knew in his eyes. "You are correct. It will not. The reaction this part of the protocol would induce in the authorities present might prove an unnecessary distraction. There is no reason it cannot be postponed." It was as I stood blinking dumbly at this odd response that I first noticed that we had an audience. I stopped fighting Sam for control of his underwear and stepped back away from him, my face burning red. "Umm...he's not feeling well." I offered to Superman and the dozen or so gruff-looking firemen flanking him. It was then that Sam stepped forward, coming face to face with Superman. "Kal-El of the planet Krypton, Your interference with the natural progression of events on this planet is at an end." Superman's brow furrowed slightly, but at first, he said nothing. The fireman however, all burst out laughing. "Watch out Supes." One of them offered between guffaws. "Underwear-Model Man is gunnin' for ya." "Yeah, what's YOUR superpower..." another chimed in, "If you are gonna dress like that and try to give Superman here a hard time..." the big fireman continued as he stepped between Superman and Sam. "...it had better be invulnerability to wedgies." Superman intervened before the situation could escalate. "Thank you sergeant, but I think I can handle this." Superman said calmly, placing a hand on the fireman's shoulder and urging him to move away. "In order to minimize disruption to denizens of this community, we should relocate before continuing." Sam said, still giving Superman his undivided attention. "Look, Superman." I interrupted, placing myself between the two as the fireman just had. "Sam here...I don't know...he isn't himself, but he's harmless. I've never known him to hurt anyone. He's just a normal guy." That's when Sam started glowing. The brightness emanating from him intensified until it seemed brighter than the sun. I shielded my eyes but my vision was quickly transformed into a field of multicolored spots. There was a sound like thunder and the next thing I knew, all was silent. I opened my eyes, blinking to dispel the fading spots. We were...somewhere else. Both Superman and I gaped around at our new surroundings, before slowly returning our stunned attention to Sam. "Okay. Maybe not so normal." I admitted, as my brain tried to assimilate what had just happened. "But nobody is hurt. Right?" I asked, patting down my own body as I checked for injury. "The spatial translocation has caused no harm." Sam assured. Superman, Sam and I all stood in exactly the same relative positions to each other, but we were no longer in Metropolis. Spectacular mountains rose into the sky in front of us. I turned slowly, taking in the rest of the vista and saw that while the mountains dominated in one direction, flat plains stretched out in every other. "Are - are those the Rockies?!" I asked, more to myself than to the other two men who were with me. "They are indeed." Superman replied, crossing his arms. He fixed Sam with a stern, disapproving look, the muscles in his strong jaw bulging with irritation. I followed Superman's glare to where Sam stood, returning Superman's gaze. He was still glowing faintly, but it seemed to be subsiding. "If you are so concerned about disrupting the lives of humans, then why bring him along." Superman challenged as he pointed to me. "Humans?" I echoed incredulously, then laughed nervously. "Yeah right , like Sam isn't...." I stopped, my eyes widening as I turned to look at Sam. Sam swallowed. A look that might have been guilt played across his face for a moment before he managed an answer. "It is only fair that the people of Earth are informed of what transpires here. They must be made to understand that they no longer have the anomalous presence of a member of an advanced culture who will intervene in their destiny. Will's purpose here is to bear witness and convey this information." I was surprised to find myself in the grip of a sudden and growing anger. I rounded on this being who had been my lifelong best friend. "Who the Hell ARE you! Where's Sam? What have you done with him?!" I demanded. Reluctantly, Sam turned to look at me. "I am Sam Munson, Will. Everything of Sam is still incorporated into this form. However, I am also the designated mitigator." "The des - The WHAT..." I stammered. "Designated by whom to mitigate what?" Superman replied more evenly. "A counsel of advanced, space-faring civilizations transplanted me into this planet's society so that I might eventually act as the designated instrument by which the imbalance caused by your presence will be mitigated." Sam explained to Superman. "I see." Superman said dubiously. "And just what is the nature of this imbalance I am supposedly causing?" "If you so wish, that can be explained at a later time, after mitigation has been achieved." Sam replied. "One possible means of mitigation would be your willing and permanent departure from this world in my company. This is the method that would be most efficient." "Oh, I'm sure it would be." Superman smirked. "But I have a feeling we're going to have to work something else out." "In the event of your failure to comply, the protocol requires that I remove you." Sam stated point blank. "Sam." I began, as I struggled to wrap my mind around what I was hearing. "If you really are still in there, then you know you've been set up to fail here. Just how do you plan on "removing" Superman from the planet?" "That will not pose a problem." Sam assured. "My basic human manifestation is in the final stages of being reconfigured. Even now, there is a forty-eight percent probability that I could successfully implement mitigation by forcible removal." Superman dropped his arms and seemed to scrutinize Sam intently. "Either this is some kind of joke or you're bluffing. Or both. You look perfectly human to me." "Maybe." I added. "But how does a human get the three of us from Metropolis to the other end of the Great Plains in the blink of an eye." Superman opened his mouth, but seemed to abandon whatever reply had at first come to mind. "Good point." He conceded. For a moment a glimmer of the old Sam surfaced on his face. "Perfectly human." He repeated Superman's phrase, smiling wistfully as he absently rubbed his left hand along his right triceps, flexing it beneath his touch. "That is apt. A perfect physiology augmented with technology that, ironically, was culled from the single remaining comprehensive Kryptonian archive is the means by which I am being rendered capable of mitigation." "Wait." Superman interjected, holding up a hand. "Kryptonian archive? Are you saying that this counsel of yours has infiltrated the Fortress of Solitude?" Sam seemed to consult some inner resource for a moment. "No. A more extensive archive exists." Then, on seeing the obvious and intense interest the mention of this archive induced in Superman, a new idea seemed to occur to him. "Access to this archive can be provided to you. If..." Sam offered a small grin that I recognized. It was his 'checkmate' smirk. "...you agree to mitigation." Superman actually looked unsure. I honestly didn't know whether to be more afraid that he would take Sam's offer or refuse it. Superman's look of resolve returned. "I don't believe you. And even if I did, my commitment is to the people of Earth." "Then I have no choice but to resume the protocol." With that, Sam deftly shucked his underwear and stood for a moment studying Superman. Both Superman and I went slack-jawed. It was a surprising move on Sam's part but the most shocking part was being confronted with the sheer awesome spectacle of Sam's naked anatomy. I addressed Superman even though I didn't seem to be able to look away from Sam. "Dude. You might be in trouble." Superman crossed his arms and pointedly looked away. "So I'm guessing that modesty isn't a big part of this protocol of yours." "Not really seeing what he has to be modest about?" I added gawking. The look Superman shot my way could have just as easily been a blast of heat vision in that it was just as effective at wiping the grin off my face. "Concerns such as modesty are of no relevance." Sam explained with a small shrug. "Very shortly, as a result of the process that readys me for my mission, there will be a small risk that matter in prolonged contact with my body will be subject to quantum state inversion" Both Sam and I had always been fairly quick studies when it came to science, but since this whole strange episode had begun, he'd been tossing out phrases, the meanings of which, I could only hazard guesses about. "Umm, and that would be a bad thing?" I asked. "If you consider having your undies suddenly transformed into highly explosive anti-matter a bad thing, then yes." Superman explained dryly. My eyes widened as I consider such an event. "Sort of renders that fireman's whole wedgie-threat obsolete." Sam laughed. I noted that it was the most - well, Sam-like thing I'd seen him do since he'd laid eyes on Superman. He was still in there somewhere. "I think I've heard enough." Superman continued more seriously. "Something strange is obviously going on here. I can't take the risk that some of what you are claiming might be true enough to present a danger." "Negating potential danger on an interstellar scale is the sole purpose of my mission." Sam retorted as he began to flex and inspect various muscles. He seemed to be gauging the progress of the transformation he claimed to be undergoing. I didn't know what was more impressive, Sam's confident display or the fact that Superman was able to look so totally unfazed by it. Superman moved to Sam and placed one hand on the younger man's shoulder. "You'll have to come with me now." He explained sternly. The hero turned to address me. "We are too far from the nearest ranch for you to walk the distance." He instructed as he surveyed the area. "I see no dangerous animals in the immediate vicinity. Just stay put and I'll have someone pick you up within the hour." "What? Where are you taking Sam?" I demanded. "Nowhere." Sam interjected, "As I have explained, it is Superman who will be accompanying me." He gingerly grasped Superman's wrist and removed it from his shoulder. Sam then spread his arms out as though executing an iron-cross and slowly began to rise into the air. "I urge you to follow me Superman - of your own free will." My mouth hung open as I watched Sam soar into the cloudless sky. He swooped and changed direction a couple of times as though he were allowing himself to become accustomed to his newly deployed flying ability. Then he hurtled directly for Superman. Without leaving the ground himself, the hero executed a last-minute, lightning-fast lateral lunge that neatly moved him out of Sam's path. Or so it seemed. It was almost comical to see Superman's smug expression change to a gape of surprise as Sam shot out an arm and snagged the the older man by the cape, hauling him into the air in a completely undignified manner. But Superman wasn't a rank newbie at these sorts of battles. He recovered immediately and deftly flipped himself into Sam's path. He then grabbed the teen by one arm and spun them both into a blur of whirling motion, only to stop with such phenomenal abruptness that Sam was sent careening to the ground where he slammed into the earth with a resounding 'BOOM' that almost knocked me off my feet. The impact kicked up a cloud of dust that obscured Sam from view. Superman, who understood the importance of keeping an opponent in view, immediately dispersed the cloud with a gale-force blast of his breath. For an instant, Sam lay on his back in the center of a shallow crater. There was a look of utter neutrality on his face, no anger, no surprise, nothing. He sat up, then streaked back into the sky to confront Superman. "There's no way you can win here, kid." Superman warned crossing his muscular arms over his broad chest and staring Sam down as the two hung in mid-air about two meters above where I stood. "You are wrong Superman. The fact is; I never lose." Sam retorted flatly. That sent a shiver down my spine for one simple reason. I'd know Sam nearly all my life...and I knew that it was true. Sam gave a quick, sharp inhale of breath and then, like Superman had done to dispel that dust a moment before, he blew in Superman's direction. I watched, barely able to comprehend what happened next because of the speed of things. Sam's chest expanded then flexed down hard in a display of tight striated muscle as he forced the air out of his lungs. A column of air more powerful than a Jovian jet-stream blurred through the sky. It struck Superman for only a fraction of a second, but the result knocked the hero up into the sky like a home-run baseball being slugged out of the park. Quicker than the eye could follow, Sam streaked ahead of the tumbling hero, stopped and then unleashed a perfectly executed punch squarely targeting Superman's "S" logo. Superman became a razor-straight blurred line that connected Sam's position to a point on the ground about a block from where I stood. The ground shuddered under the impact. "Holy shit!" I shouted even as I started running toward the area where Superman had hit the ground. I skidded to a stop at the rim of the second impact crater this fight between titans had produced. I turned to see Sam calmly floating down from on high. Like Superman had before him, he dispelled the debris cloud as easily as I might extinguish the candles on a cake. Sam landed beside me and we both peered down into the crater. Superman had apparently struck the ground with his shoulders and upper back. He was more or less upside down, his legs almost comically akimbo above his head as his body was folded awkwardly at the waist. He struggled to right himself and then pushed himself up to a sitting position, grimacing as he rubbed the back of his neck. He struggled to his feet at the bottom of an even deeper crater than the one Sam's impact had formed and searched the scene for Sam, glaring daggers up at the teen once he had spotted him. "Not a happy look." I commented. "Sam, if he was holding back before, I don't think he will now. You have to stop this. It's crazy!" Sam didn't look at me, he just regarded Superman with icy calm. "You don't understand. True madness, would be to allow him to remain on Earth." "Well you're right about one thing. I DON'T understand any of this". I was shaking my head, unable to believe what was happening. "Including how you are somehow suddenly able to go toe to toe with Superman!" Suddenly, Sam bent slightly with a grunt, that strange glow had returned, though it was faint and again, faded quickly. "Yeah!" Sam almost growled, a smirk flitted across his features for a moment. It contained a disturbing hint of cruelty. "It's done. My transformation is complete. Superman is finished on Earth." He declared, standing once more to his full height. I stumbled back from Sam, shocked. It was as though his already fantastic musculature had been amped up an order of magnitude. It was impossible. He'd not only increased in size, but in apparent density and definition. Even his posture and his stance exuded power. Though stark naked, there was no hint of vulnerability, which served only to make him seem that much more intimidating. Superman sailed up from the bottom of the crater and landed between us, pushing me to the side. "You need to clear out of here, son. Now! Your friend and I have something to settle." He obviously meant business. In a flash, Superman was behind Sam, his mighty arms encircled the younger man, pinning his arms. Superman lifted them both into the air, apparently intent on putting some distance between me and the fight he was about to bring to Sam. But they had risen no more than a few meters when they simply stopped. Superman's eyes widened, then a look of determination settled onto his face and with a slight grimace he put more effort into flying the two of them higher. They moved no more than a half a meter and then stopped cold once again. Superman audibly grunted, pouring more effort into his flying ability, but they did not move. In fact, they began to glide smoothly back down to the ground. "Your concern for Will's proximity to our struggle is admirable. But I will see that no harm comes to him." Sam explained calmly as he used his own flying ability to force Superman back to the ground, even though the hero was obviously struggling mightily to resist. When their feet touched the ground, Superman released Sam and shoved him away hard as he jumped back to put some distance between them. It seemed to catch Sam off guard. He stumbled two small steps forward before he steadied himself. From my vantage point, I could see that menacing smirk make a reappearance on Sam's face before he willed himself to calm down again and once more turned to face Superman. "I can out-muscle you as easily as I just out-flew you Kryptonian. It is in the best interest of everyone for you to submit." "Young man, that's just not going to happen." Superman declared grimly. "Then you leave me no choice." Sam replied. "He then threw a poorly aimed punch at Superman, it was almost like he intended to miss - a sort of shot across the bow. It grazed the older man's jaw to little effect, but I suspected that it was probably a way to telegraph a taste of the kind of power Sam was capable of without actually laying into Superman. Superman took advantage of the opening to launch his own punch, squarely connecting with Sam's gut. I could feel the thud through the ground, but it merely bounced off Sam's abs. Sam grinned ever so slightly. He seemed to be alternating back and forth between cold detachment and more human reactions. I wondered if Superman had noticed this too. It was almost like two distinct entities were jostling for control of Sam's body. Relying on his skill in hand to hand combat, Superman brought the fight to Sam, pressing the advantage that experience granted him. Sam was rarely able to land even a grazing blow, taking aim randomly at whatever target Superman presented. On the other hand, Superman bided his time as he dodged, concentrating his punches strategically on the same target over and over - pummeling Sam's abs with precision and awesome power. But I noticed that even the glancing blows Sam landed elicited grunts and grimaces from Superman, while every thudding, solid hit Superman landed against the teen's unyielding abs drew either no reaction at all or a small, sneering smirk from Sam. The whole scene started to remind me of an eerily, disturbingly familiar feeling. I hoped that I was wrong. I hoped that Sam wasn't just phoning it in with this fight, like he'd done with most every other challenge in his life. Any other observer would have certainly perceived both combatants to be going all out for the win. They moved with such speed and power, shaking the ground with their superhuman efforts. Even though Superman appeared to have the edge in sheer skill, as the fight went on, frustration began to take its toll on the Man of Steel. Sam's hits rattled him more and more and landed more frequently. Superman's strategy, which might have been superior to Sam's on paper, wasn't working. The kid's abs withstood Superman's every ground-rumbling punch. There was no sign that they were being worn down. On the contrary, it was Superman's Kryptonian stamina that was beginning to falter. Determined, Superman reached deep into his strength reserves as he doubled down on his attack strategy. I could see a sheen of sweat start to form on his face as he increased both the power of his punches and the frequency with which they came. At the same time, he concentrated harder on avoiding Sam's punishing blows. Superman blinked repeatedly as sweat began to obscure his vision, but he realized that Sam's rain of blows had ceased, freeing him to press his attack even more intensely. He imagined his opponent, breathless and teetering on the brink of collapse. He cleared his eyes with a pulse of heat vision power, evaporating the sweat blurring his vision. I could almost feel the cold dread and shock that must have stabbed the pit of the hero's stomach. Sam had raised both arms, placing them behind his head. He was smiling with cold amusement and merely watching as Superman continued to pound away at his wholly unaffected neutron-dense wash-board. Superman shook his head. "That's impossible!" With a roar of frustration he fired off a final, all-out shot at Sam's impervious abs and then stumbled back several steps, breathing hard as the shock-wave rolled across the plains. Sam advanced on his adversary, slapping his abs proudly. "Had enough, Kryptonian?" I noticed that Sam's heavy cock was hanging lower. Apparently wielding such power was starting to arouse Sam. Truth be known, it was affecting me the same way just watching it all. Sam reached for Superman, but the hero intercepted Sam's arms. They struggled against each other, fingers interlaced. After a moment of this, Sam released one of Superman's hands and yanked the hero forward by the other. He brought Superman's hand up to nearly eye level and glared at Superman over their clasped hands. Then he squeezed, the muscles of his arm welling up like tsunami. Superman groaned, his face contorting with surprise and pain and his knees gave way slightly before he could steady himself and dredge up the power to counter Sam to some degree. "Submit" Sam advised cooly, "before I am forced to injure you." He appeared to be slowly increasing the crushing power of his grip. Superman went up on his toes. He gritted his teeth and growled in pain as he tried to free himself with both hands. I was frozen in place. I had no idea what to do. Superman stopped whipping his head back and forth in pain and concentrated on the ground. A sudden pencil-thin beam of heat-vision lanced into the earth and a second later the entire world seemed to shift violently beneath my feet. Even Sam was surprised. He released his grip and stumbled for a moment then he wholly disappeared from view, tumbling into a deep chasm that suddenly yawned beneath him. Gasping, Superman willed himself airborne and then streaked directly down into the earth, pulverizing a huge quantity of solid rock, which cascaded down into the chasm after Sam. The next thing I knew, I was dangling by my shirt-front in Superman's grip as he glared into my face. "I don't know who you are to this guy, I don't know what's happening to him. But if some alien force is changing him - taking him over - you've got to help me reach his human side." "I...I don't know any more than you do." I stammered. "What am I supposed to-" "Listen to me!" Superman shouted in my face, shaking me. "That dormant fault-line trick won't hold him long and I don't think I can take him! If you can't reach him, he's probably going to-". Sam blasted into the sky through an explosion of earth and pulverized rock. He spotted me and Superman in short order and the look on his face froze us both to the core. "Put him DOWN!" he shouted. The force of the demand cracked the air like a sonic boom. Superman gulped as he gently set me on my feet. "Somewhere in there, he's still your friend." Superman whispered. "Use that." Suddenly, Superman streaked skyward directly at Sam. He roared through the air, both fists protruding in front of him like twin battering rams. He connected with Sam's solar-plexus like a living missile, only to be effortlessly deflected by the dense plates of pectoral muscle that composed Sam's thick chest. Superman lost all control as his momentum was violently redirected, shunting his body earthward. He crashed into the ground with an ungainly thud and lay unmoving. Sam nodded proudly to himself as he thumped his mighty pecs, obviously pleased with the power of his body. "You are full of bad ideas today, Superman." Sam's semi-hard cock seemed to be flirting with the idea of visiting his knees as it swung heavily with his slightest movement. Finally Superman rolled over with a groan and pulled himself to his feet. Sam's grin vanished, suddenly replaced by a cold flat glare once more. "It is obvious that you do not intend to comply with mitigation. You will now be forcibly compelled." Sam landed gracefully in front of Superman. "Unconscious, you will be rendered incapable of further interference with my mission." Sam casually picked up the shaken Man-of-Steel almost gently, folding him into a bear-hug. "NoooARRrrrggggggghaaaaa!" Superman's eyes bulged as Sam applied his unstoppable strength to the hold. Sam hadn't bothered to pin Superman's arms and the hero pushed against Sam’s burgeoning pecs, but he couldn't relieve the mounting pressure in the least. He turned a pleading look in my direction and then began to punch Sam squarely in the jaw repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to make the teen free him. The first and second punches whipped Sam's head to the side, but his cold expression remained unchanged. The third punch produced a slight sneer at the corner of Sam's lip as well as a visible thickening of his neck and traps. He glared into Superman's eyes as the hero landed the fourth punch. Sam's jaw didn't budge, braced as it was with the flexing of his neck and trapezius muscles. Superman clutched his hand and wailed after it bounced off Sam's granite jaw. Sam smirked and cut off that wail with a sharp increase in the power of his bear-hug. Superman made a gurgling noise and began to slump in Sam's mighty arms. Sam smiled maliciously and his cock began to rise in slow pulsing increments in time with the beat of his heart. These animalistic behaviors might have been unsettling, but they were undeniably human and therefore somehow less frightening than the cold, calculating aspect of Sam that had nearly taken him over ever since he had laid eyes of Superman. If such primal human behavior was currently surfacing in Sam, maybe his human intellectual characteristics weren't so far beneath. I decided to make my move before the alien part of Sam could reassert itself. "Sam!" I shouted as I ran over to him and grabbed at his arms. His muscles were like living iron. "You can't do this. Fight it Sam! It's me! It's Will!" "I...I don't want to do this...but there's a greater good." Sam nodded to himself as he squelched his doubts. "I have to do this, Will. Earth must develop without interference. If a species cannot survive its emergence into technological proficiency, it must be allowed to perish. Other, more profound discoveries await exploitation. If a morally deficient culture is sheltered from the consequences of its own irresponsibility and is allowed to emerge onto the interstellar stage, that culture would gain access to technologies that could conceivably render the entire universe unfit for life. This cannot be allowed. Earth must survive on its own, or not at all. Superman must be removed." My head spun as I tried to sort through what Sam was saying. I could see how it all might make sense to the alien part of Sam, but surely he felt some kind of connection to Earth - some allegiance. By now, Superman was out cold. Crushed into unconsciousness by the unearthly power of my best friend in the world. That had to be the key. Thinking about 'The Mission' was what seemed to strengthen the control of the alien side of Sam. But thinking about the raw muscle Sam now commanded seemed to bring his more human side to the fore. A plan began to take shape in my head. "Ok, guess you gotta do what you gotta do but, Dude! Do you realize you have been bouncing Superman around like a rubber ball for the past hour?" Sam's brow furrowed as he considered this, he relaxed his hold on the unconscious Man-of-Steel and held him at arm's length, inspecting his defeated opponent. His cock was fast approaching a full head of steam, throbbing in the air in front of him. That had to be a sensation that played havoc with his cold, rational persona. It was sure as hell distracting me from my plan. I forced myself to focus. "I haven't...got a choice." he stated, hesitantly. "Maybe, but heck, if I had the kind of muscle you do, I wouldn't do anything I didn't want to. Hell, I'd make whatever I wanted be the greater good." "That...that doesn't make any sense." Sam said, but he stared ahead vacantly with a growing smile as he considered the idea. "I'd be all like: 'Yeah, sure Superman you can stay put. You make for one fun play-date. And Earth? You step out of line and you answer to me. No blowin' up the universe on my watch.' I mean who knows Earth and what should be done with it better than someone who's lived here?" Sam smiled and bounced his pecs proudly as he thought about that. His cock was now all but slamming against his abs with every throb. "Hey, imagine what Coach Barnes and the other guys on the team would say if you walked into practice on Monday." "Ha!" Sam laughed. "I would love to see the strength coach's reaction to me now." Sam flexed his right biceps, Superman dangled unconscious and almost forgotten from his hand as he did, bobbing bonelessly in Sam's grip. "All you gotta do is show up." I grinned, egging on his thoughts. "Who's gonna stop you?" I gave him a playful punch in the arm. I heard my knuckles crack. "Who could stop you?" Superman groaned, as he regained consciousness to find himself suspended by a handful of his costume from Sam's heavily muscled, unwavering arm. "What...what hit me?" He asked groggily. My heart sank. I had almost reached something in Sam, but Superman, coming to when he did drew Sam's attention back to the embattled hero. Sam shook his head disapprovingly. "No you don't, Supes." He said wrapping his arms around the out-classed hero once more. "Aw, let him go Sam. What's he going to do to you?" I reasoned. Sam shook his head. He seemed confused and struggling to bring some order to the chaos in his head. "He's a wuss compared to you now. C'mon, show him the guns. I'll be he wets 'em." Superman glared at me looking almost as confused as Sam. Sam smiled and his arms went up into a double biceps pose. Superman dropped to the ground...or would have if Sam's fence-post-solid cock hadn't been in the way. Superman yelped in pain, his balls squashed as he straddled Sam's unyielding member. One hand went to Sam's cock as Superman instinctively sought to relieve the pressure of his own weight on his balls and the other hand shot out to Sam's thick pecs to steady himself. Superman nearly ripped his invulnerable skin open against Sam's bullet hard nipple. "Hell, yeah!" Sam roared as his cock positively fountained into the air. Sam's flexing biceps peaked even higher before our eyes as he roared with satisfaction until his cock finally finished delivering its payload into the sky. Superman hit the ground hard as Sam dropped to his knees, his cock becoming somewhat less erect. Sam shook his head and looked around. "Will?" he asked with uncertainty. "Will, what the hell is going on?" "Sam?" I gave a short nervous laugh. "Sam, tell me that's you talking...and only you." Sam frowned, and looked from Superman, who was slowly dragging himself back away from Sam, to me again. "What the fuck is going on?" "Well, apparently, you just shorted-circuited a hyper-rational alien body-snatcher through sheer studliness." I said grinning as I coaxed him to his feet. "And it looks like you get to keep the body." I said, giving one of his thick pecs a friendly punch. "Superman?" Sam moved to help the hero to his feet. The traumatized hero flinched away and cast an uncertain look in my direction. "I think it's alright now." I assured him. He hesitated, but then took Sam’s offered hand and allowed himself to be helped to his feet. Sam glanced down at himself, then froze. "Oh, shit!" He blurted as he realized that he was totally naked. "That...all that...wasn't a dream...Was it?" Superman offered Sam his hand. "More like a nightmare, son. I'm just glad it's over." Blushing an amazing shade of crimson, Sam shook Superman's hand. "Then it is over, you think?" I asked. Superman frowned and turned to Sam. "What do you think your 'friends' will do now?" Sam swallowed nervously. "I know what they'll do. They'll send in more muscle." The End

Here's another Incredible Hulk fic that I don't think I ever posted here or at the old site. Hope you like and thanks for reading. Hulk Hunter by Alan Thacker The chopper banked hard and the pilot dropped them precipitously into one of the geometric canyons formed by the city’s skeleton. Jared concentrated on steadying himself where he crouched just inside the helicopter’s large, open, side door. He had to hold on tight enough to anchor himself yet not SO hard that he wrenched free the metal hand-holds he was using to brace himself from the aircraft’s aluminum bulkhead. If that happened he’d almost certainly lose his balance and end up, at best, sprawling in an undignified manner across the chopper’s cramped cabin floor. At worst he could plunge out of the pitching crafts door prematurely. Brief, clipped bursts of static bracketed the sound of the pilot’s voice as he communicated with Jared via the tiny earpiece concealed almost entirely within his right ear. “Ground units have a fix. ETA four minutes.” Jared leaned precariously outside the hurtling aircraft, wind buffeted his very dark brown hair, but he kept it so close-cropped that it couldn’t really be said to have ruffled it. He scanned the city-scape in the direction of the chopper’s flight. A new column of dark smoke was making a slanted exclamation point against the sky above some of the lower buildings further out from the city’s center. Jared smirked slightly, wondering what the Hulk-Buster unit had just lost; A Tank? One of their Super-Mandroids maybe. Withdrawing inside, he touched the communication device in his ear. “Drop me off at least two blocks away. I want to approach on foot.” “Roger that.” The pilot acknowledged. Minutes later, the chopper slowed to nearly a stop and came to hover more than three stories off the ground. Taking this as his cue, Jared slipped gracefully over the side of the craft’s cabin-floor. He plunged ground-ward in free-fall for a couple of seconds. On impact, he bent stiffly at the knees and waist, going into a squat in order to absorb most of the kinetic energy of his fall into the muscles of his legs. Even so, the faded gray asphalt of the street shattered beneath him. Jagged, pie-wedge-shaped chunks of the street flipped into the air around him. One caught him under the squared-off jut of his jaw and shattered even further. Unaffected, he stood up, dusting the gritty residue of the impact from his chin. He glanced down at his feet to see how the specially designed trainers he wore had held up to the tremendous force of his landing. He gave a small nod of approval as they seemed undamaged. Likewise, the form-hugging fabric of his simple, dark blue, short-sleeved tunic seemed intact, as did the only slightly less stretchy, but identically blue material that composed his mid-thigh-length shorts. All of his attire had been designed to interfere as little as possible with Jared’s range of motion (This was entirely for the benefit of the survivability of the uniform, not a comfort issue). Leaving the man’s arms and legs exposed was beneficial for the regulation of his powerful body’s temperature. Jared’s smooth skin was a phenomenal heat dissipator, which was important in regulating the huge amounts of heat he was capable of generating via muscular exertion. If the man began to overheat to the point of sweating, his muscles would register a detectable, if minuscule, loss of efficiency. Jared’s physique and dress made him appear, at first glance, to be an avid runner or maybe a cyclist - though a phenomenally fit one. He was at once lithe and graceful as well as possessed of thick and powerfully cut muscle. The fact that he sported the seal of the CIA on both of the main pieces of his attire was rendered inconspicuous by his overall presentation. A casual observer would most likely presume the identical emblems to be sports attire logos. Jared strode off toward the nearby rising column of smoke. The muted sound of a distant animalistic roar told him that he was headed in the right direction. After closing the distance to the column of smoke by about a block, Jared stopped to listen carefully for clues about what was going on up ahead. He frowned slightly when he couldn’t make out anything useful. Stepping back from a two-story building a few feet away, he squinted up in the direction of the building’s roof. He squatted low and leapt effortlessly to the structure’s top, landing fluidly on its roof. He made his way to the far side of the building and planted a foot on the raised two-feet-high wall that ran the perimeter of its tarry roof. He stooped a bit, planting an elbow on his knee as he scanned the low skyline before him. A large explosion of dust and debris puffed into the air above a line of smaller buildings on the other side of the block. Jared gave a small satisfied smile and hopped the low wall without hesitation. He dropped to the ground again, this time he was able to minimize the damage of his impact to a few spider-web cracks in the pavement. Once again he headed off toward the disturbance. “STOP!” Demanded an amplified voice. Jared jerked his head in the direction of the command. Its source was about ten meters to his right on an intersecting street. Jared turned to take the measure of the owner of this booming voice. At more than twelve feet tall and gleaming with a golden metallic shine, the exo-skeletal Super-Mandroid suit of the man addressing him would have been enough to intimidate, if not outright terrify, most people. Jared wasn’t most people. “THIS AREA HAS BEEN EVACUATED. ALL RESIDENTS HAVE BEEN ORDERED TO LEAVE THIS PART OF THE CITY.” Jared was informed with authority. He grinned a gleaming white-toothed grin and put his hands on his hips. “I’m not a resident, I'm from outta town, so if you’ll excuse me, I’ll just be on my way.” He explained, pointing in the direction he intended to go. Its operator directed the Super-Mandroid suit to move in to intercept Jared. It moved with an eerie and unexpectedly human-like agility. “REAL FUNNY, SMART-GUY.” The mechanically augmented voice boomed. “YOUR PRESENCE IS NOT ONLY PUTTING YOU IN DANGER, YOU ARE INTERFERING IN A CRITICAL SECURITY OPERATION. WE’VE GOT THE INCREDIBLE HULK ON AN ALL OUT RAMPAGE TO TAKE CARE OF HERE.” The man in the sophisticated armor warned Jared as he closed in rapidly. Just then there was a thudding, ground-shaking boom and a nearby building crumpled into a cloud of roiling dust. The spectacular collapse momentarily drew both men’s attention. “Yeah? And how’s that going for ya?” Jared smirked. Suddenly, and with an almost comically clumsy clanging, a hulking figure in armor identical to that of the man confronting Jared, fell from the sky not ten meters from their position. The other Super-Mandroid writhed on the ground, showing none of the impressive coordination demonstrated by the other robotic exoskeleton. One of the stricken unit’s mechanical arms was missing. Jared wondered if the arm of the operator was similarly absent somewhere beneath the mangled golden metal of the suit. “Guess that answers my question.” Jared said. He started to continue forward toward the epicenter of the carnage but the guy in the still functional Mandroid suit stepped in front of him. “YOU’RE NOT GOING ANY FURTHER. MY MISSION IS TO PATROL THE PERIMETER AND KEEP ANYONE OR ANYTHING FROM ENTERING WHILE THE OTHER UNITS ENGAGE THE HULK.” The guy in the suite explained menacingly. The standoff between Jared and the man-machine combination looked ridiculously one-sided. Any observer would quickly conclude that the man clad only in the skin-tight, short-sleeved attire must have had some kind of death-wish to go up against the monstrous metal entity that loomed over him. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Jared crossed his arms over his chest. He tensed the muscles of his arms and torso, which swelled and bulged in such a way that the two opponents didn’t seem quite so mis-matched all of a sudden. “Let me ask you something. Have you Hulk-Buster light-weights EVER managed to do anything other than slow the jolly green giant down for a second or two?” Jared noted that the pilot of the downed Mandroid had wriggled out of an opened hatch. The guy managed to find his feet. He appeared to be barefoot and wearing only underwear. Jared payed this other man little attention as the guy beat cheeks in the opposite direction. Silence was the only response to Jared’s question. But looking up defiantly, he could see the visored face of the functional Mandroid’s operator. The silent fuming expression there was answer enough. “Didn’t think so.” Jared scoffed. He started forward again. “You’d do well to clear outta my way.” “YOU WERE WARNED.” Boomed the voice from the Mandroid suit’s PA system. The Mandroid stepped forward and two massive mechanical hands clamped around Jared’s upper body, pinning his arms to his sides. “So were you.” Jared replied. With effortless fluidity, Jared curled his arms as he elbowed the massive metal hands apart. With a lightening shrug he was able to power his hands into opposition with those of the Mandroid. Palm to massive palm, Jared pushed back against the mechanically augmented strength of the guy in the suit. Sculpted stacks of micro-fusion-driven flat-motors that mimicked the shape and operation of human muscles within the Mandroids exoskeleton clashed with the real thing...and were handily bested. The H.U.D. of the operator’s visor flashed a dozen warning lights and an equal number of warning tones and klaxons sounded over his com system. The Mandroid’s flat-motor stacks, which would allow the operator to tame the charge of a rhino, were almost instantly overtaxed. The more mundane hydraulic back-up system fared no better as Jared flexed his unstoppable arms to full extension, driving the Mandroids arms further apart with ease. Clenching his hands into fists around handfuls of deforming metal that had moments ago been the Madnroid’s intricately articulated mechanical hands, Jared began to twist the massive robotic arms together like the ends of a twist-tie. “THIS - THIS ISN’T POSSIBLE!” Stammered the Mandroid’s operator. “WHAT ARE YOU?” Jared released the out-matched machine’s ruined arms and stooped to sink one bare hand into the metal of its left foot. That grip secured, his left arm shot out and grabbed a similar hold on the machines right foot. “Let’s just say that someone decided that it was time to send in the big guns.” He explained. He then hefted the Mandroid overhead. It teetered but was held upright by sophisticated gyro-stabilizers. That is, until Jared slammed the Mandroid to the ground with a simple flick of his wrists. Jared put just enough of his inhuman strength into this to show who was in charge without actually killing the Mandroid’s occupant. As the machine struggled to right itself like an overturned turtle, Jared twisted the massive legs together with as much ease as he’d done its arms. He’d effectively hog-tied the thing with its own limbs. Dusting his hand, Jared kicked the demolished machine out of his path with a sweep of one foot and continued on his way. “HEY...HEY! YOU BENT THE HATCH! I’M TRAPPED IN HERE!” The helpless pilot of the Mandroid cried. “YOU CAN’T JUST LEAVE ME HERE.” Jared stopped, threw his hands up in frustration and turned back toward the crippled Mandroid. Grabbing it by the thick attachment point for one of its legs and the diagonal shoulder, he simply tore the whole thing in half. The pilot slipped out onto the pavement like the yolk of a cracked egg. The man scrambled to his feet tearing a tangle of interface wires from various parts of his body. Even outside the Mandroid suit, the guy was almost a full head taller than Jared. Now, instead of a sheath of golden metal, he was clad only in what looked like a pair of solid black boxer-briefs. Red circles stood out on his skin from each of the spots where he removed a biofeedback sensor from the network that had helped him to operate the Mandroid, but they almost immediately began to fade. From the intel Jared had quickly studied on his way to this location, he knew that the latest version of the Hulk-Buster’s Super-Mandroid suits multiplied by many times the strength of the wearer. To maximize this, selection of recruits to the Mandroid corp placed great emphasis on putting powerfully built guys into the suits in the first place. The guy before Jared was obviously no exception. The big guy’s wide-eyed stare moved back and forth a couple of times between Jared and his demolished Mandroid. “Just how the FUCK can you do that?” Jared gave a slight, cool smile as he cocked his right arm in front of his chest, his flexing biceps stretched the blue fabric of his sleeve. “What did you not get about the ‘big guns’ reference I made earlier?” The former Mandroid operator swallowed nervously and took a step back. He might have been larger than Jared, but there was something about the smaller man’s confidence and the look of his powerful muscles that inexplicably confirmed Jared’s total physical superiority. This would have been true even if the Hulk-Buster hadn’t just watched the lean, yet muscular Jared tear apart a state-of-the-art Super-Mandroid with his bare hands. "Okay." The Hulk-Buster said. "I'm impressed." The taller man conceded, then began to glance around, nervously. "But we need to find some cover. Being out in the open and unprotected like this is just asking for trouble. We could run into the Hulk at any moment." The man moved in closer to Jared as he spoke as though driven by some sub-conscious herding instinct; Safety in numbers. "That IS the idea." Jared muttered under his breath as he turned his back on the Hulk-Buster and resumed his course toward the area where the building had collapsed minutes earlier. He knew that the Hulk could move around with incredible speed. The delay caused by the guy in the Mandroid suit had cost him precious seconds. Not sure what else to do, the Hulk-Buster took off at a trot to catch up with Jared. Apparently able to hear even the muffled footfalls of the guy's bare feet on the asphalt, Jared called behind him without turning around. "Unless you want to be my tag-team partner when I lay into the Hulk, I suggest you piss off." The Hulk-Buster stopped cold, his face blanching at that prospect. It would have been a daunting one even if he still had his Super-Mandroid suit. He wrapped his hugely muscular arms protectively around his own bare torso and continued to cast fearful glances all around the abandoned street. Finally he decided that the only thing around that might offer him any protection should he encounter the Incredible Hulk was the obviously superhumanly powerful man about to disappear on to an intersecting street up ahead of him. Once more, the nearly naked man took off at a run to catch up with Jared. Moments later, Jared was nearly trampled by another Mandroid. This one seemed fully intact, but was running scared, hell-bent on leaving the area. Not far beyond the fleeing machine, Jared could see why. There was a virtual wall of wrecked armored vehicles forming a crude front line in the battle that had been raging between the Hulk-Buster's and their target. Beyond which Jared could finally see his quarry. The Hulk was casually, almost gleefully dismantling a stricken tank. He had a massive section of broken track in one giant hand, the metal was crumpled in his grip like it was nothing more resilient than damp cardboard. The tank itself was balanced above the Hulk's head in the brutes other hand, its naked drive wheels spinning madly. The turret lay mangled on the ground a few meters away. The Hulk tossed the remains of the vehicle over one impossibly broad green shoulder like a man discarding an apple-core, it tumbled, crashing along a deserted intersection and came to rest on its side, rotating weakly in a small circle as its exposed wheels continued to spin. "Stupid soldiers." the Hulk grumbled. "Why do they always attack Hulk? Why do they never learn?" The Hulk trudged onward, coming in Jared's direction. Jared decided to lay low and let the Hulk come to him. He wasn't sure how much of a challenge the Hulk's gamma-spawned might would prove to be against his own strength. If he could take the Hulk by surprise and end their confrontation quickly, then all the better. He assumed a non-threatening casual stance and waited for the approaching power-house to spot him. He didn't want to telegraph his intentions by moving in on the Hulk or presenting himself as an aggressor in any way. It seemed the Hulk was feeling triumphant and coming down from an anger spike. Which would mean his strength levels would be returning to his baseline resting state - another reason not to get the lumbering colossus riled up again. The Hulk kicked at chunks of debris along his path with irritation as he came. He nearly stumbled over Jared before he spotted him. When he did notice the much smaller man just to the side of his course, the Hulk barely spared him a glance as he passed. Jared stole up behind the retreating brute and tapped him on the shoulder. "Excuse me, could you point me in the direction of the nearest Kwik-E-Mart?" The Hulk turned, blinking stupidly at the question and was caught by what was probably the most devastating uppercut the green mountain of muscle had ever been dealt. Jared stood frozen for a split second, his arm still high in the air at the peak of his swing, his feet planted firmly, slightly more than shoulder-width apart. A smile of smug satisfaction formed on his face as he watched the massive Hulk sail into the air in a high arc. The Hulk tumbled end over end in one complete revolution before slamming to the asphalt flat on his back about thirty meters away. Jared hit an all out sprint and skidded to a stop, standing over the downed Hulk, ready to press his advantage. It didn't seem necessary. The Hulk wasn't moving. Cautiously, Jared planted a foot on the Hulks rib-cage and gave a few firm nudges to see if he could rouse him. Still, the Hulk didn't move. Jared crossed his arms and looked mildly disappointed as he stood victorious over the apparently vanquished juggernaut. "Too easy." He sighed. "Guess you don't know your own strength." A voice called from behind Jared. He turned to see the former Mandroid operator he'd encounter before standing near a chain-link fence not too far away. "Still don't." Jared replied then turned back to look down on the Hulk. "At least as far as what my limits are. I'd hoped the good doctor here might be able to shed some light on that for me. But I guess not." "Umm...what's your name?" The so called Hulk-Buster asked. "Jared." The more literal Hulk-Buster replied. "Warren." The other guy offered. "Look, if you have any means of communication on you, I could have a containment unit here within half an hour for our big green friend here." Warren explained as he approached with caution. "I appreciate the offer." Jared said as he stooped to shove his arms underneath the unconscious Hulk. "But I'm thinkin' I"M the only 'containment unit' that's up to this particular task." He hoisted the enormous, slack body off the ground. Both men were equally startled when, without warning, the Hulk grunted and began to flail violently. An elbow thick as the stump of an oak tree caught Jared in the temple. His vision filled with stars and he stumbled, lost his balance, then pitched backward hitting the ground hard and nearly disappearing beneath the Hulk's heavy frame as they both sprawled on the ground. The Hulk growled savagely as the brute scrambled to his feet. Warren watched, frozen in terror, as the Hulk reared up roaring at the sky. One of the Hulk's massive feet had come to rest completely obscuring Jared's head, driving it into the pavement as the enraged monster stood and glared around still bellowing with rage. Almost immediately, the Hulk fixed his attention on Warren. Warren had a block-long stretch of unbroken chain-link fence at his back, an enraged Hulk in front of him and the only one who stood a chance of helping him lay unmoving and unnoticed, ground into the asphalt beneath the Hulk's heel. Only one phrase came to mind and he breathed it out with quiet resignation. "Oh Fuck." ****** The Hulk closed on Warren like a predator. There was a murderous look in the eyes of the giant and Warren wondered if Jared's punch had so disoriented the beast that it thought that Warren had been the one who delivered the blow. He thought about the power the Hulk would put into retaliating against someone he perceived to be capable of that kind of strength. He then thought about what would happen to his powerfully built, but all too human body when the Hulk laid into him. He stood tall and squared his shoulders. Turning his head away only slightly, he closed his eyes and waited. "You've got the wrong dance partner there ya big green moron." came a voice from behind the Hulk. Warren opened one eye cautiously to see the Hulk, who had come to a stop less than a meter in front of the mercenary. A rumbling growl grew steadily louder as the Hulk slowly turned to square off against the owner of that voice. As the Hulk turned, Jared came into Warren's field of view from behind the green beast. He was wiping dirt from the side of his face and spitting grit from where his face had been stomped into the pavement. Warren noticed, however, that there wasn't a scratch on the man. His growl escalating to a roar, the Hulk pulled back his mighty right arm and slammed a punch into the ground before his feet with devastating power. Warren was thrown to the ground by the shock wave, even though only the merest fraction propagated in his direction. The brunt of the shock wave ripped through the ground toward Jared, who bounced several stories high and was hurled backward by the raw power of the punch. Scrambling quickly to his feet, Warren watched in amazement as Jared, with remarkable acrobatic skill, rebounded off the side of a building. He 'landed' on the vertical surface feet first, immediately pushing off and sailing back toward the Hulk to land almost in his original position. "Two can play at that Hulkster." Jared declared with a confident grin as he prepared to hammer the ground with his own punch in answer to the Hulk's. The grin vanished as he noticed Warren getting to his feet just behind his target. "CRAP!" Jared spat, pulling his punch at the last possible minute so as not to kill Warren with an answering shock-wave of his own. Unfortunately, his momentum carried him into the Hulk's reach. Warren felt terrible, knowing it was his fault as he watched Jared's misstep set the poor guy up in front of the waiting Hulk like a bad pitch served up to a home-run slugger. Instead of standing around gaping, Warren knew he should have made a move to get himself out of the battle-zone, so that Jared wouldn't have to worry about holding back for fear of injuring him. The Hulk connected, solidly and Jared became a blurred streak of motion as he hurtled backward. The devastating punch sent him careening into the same building he'd deftly rebounded from moments earlier, only this time his momentum was too much for the structure to withstand. Jared's body slammed through the wall explosively, near the foundation. Moments later, half the building came down on top of him. Warren backed quickly away as a cascade of pulverized masonry and other debris spilled toward him, blocking his only path of escape. Nearby, a jeep had been hurled into the intact building nearest to Jared at some point in the Hulk's battle with the Hulk-busters. It had come to rest standing on its nose, wheels pointed outward. Now, jostled by the collapsing building, it tipped over and fell onto its wheels once again. As the Jeep fell away from the building, Jared could see the battered, once-gleaming metal of a mandroid suit revealed where it had been partially knocked through the wall of the building, apparently when the jeep had been hurled into it. A triumphant roar from the Hulk snapped Warren's attention back to the current battle, he pressed himself against the chain-link fence and froze in place. He felt as though his blood was turning to ice-water as the Hulk roared his victory to the sky. The Hulk's bellowing ended abruptly in an almost comical interrogative grunt. As the brute stared in mute surprise at his opponent, who emerged from the debris cloud, brushing dust from his his body and with much irritation and struggling to recover from a coughing fit probably brought on by a lung-full of the thick dust-cloud he'd just emerged from. His Shirt hung in tatters and Jared shrugged it off exposing his incredibly powerful looking upper body. The guy had to have close to zero body-fat. He was absolutely armored with huge, impervious-looking muscles. Warren had never seen the like. It was hard to believe that Jared’s shirt had been able to obscure so much bulk. Or had it? Was this guy growing somehow? "That tears it!" Jared declared, coming to a stop toe to toe with the Hulk. He wiped at his eyes trying his best to clear them of grit and debris, then he raised his fists like a well-trained boxer, though he was still squinting through his impaired vision. "You wanna have a go at me, then let's do this like men." He challenge between coughs. The Hulk's fists were inbound for Jared's head before he'd even finished issuing his challenge. The massive green fists, thumbs-out, crashed together against the sides of Jared's head. Jared staggered back, his ears ringing. The Hulk pressed his advantage and caught Jared in the temple with another devastating punch. Jared spun and staggered and finally went down hard on his back. He immediately began to struggle back to his feet, but he was moving slowly. The Hulk closed in once more, moving farther from Warren's position as he did so. Warren turned his attention back to that downed Super-Mandroid suit. The Hulk was no longer directly between him and the suit and was currently paying him no attention. At the very least, the thing might provide him with an armored hiding place. At most, he might be able to use it to help Jared. He sprinted for the machine as fast as he could. Meanwhile, Jared had managed to roll himself over and was in the process of pushing himself up off the ground when the Hulk scooped him bodily into the air with a single hand, thick fingers nearly completely encircling his relatively narrow waist. Disoriented, and with no footing or leverage, Jared was at a severe disadvantage. In quick succession, the Hulk drew back his free arm, and hammered his hapless opponent with an uppercut that launched him high into the air. The Hulk raged and leaped after Jared's tumbling body, intercepting him in mid-air and slamming into him with vicious force as he clamped a bear-hug on Jared. They began their free fall back to the ground. The impact as the two crashed to the earth shook the ground for an area of many blocks. Warren had reached the Mandroid suit. The impact drew his attention and he noted the location where the Hulk now stood, holding Jared trapped in his mightily muscled green arms. Wasting no time, he crawled into the suit's hatch, the cover of which had been jettisoned. He was only vaguely aware of his underwear snagging and ripping as he forced his way into the debris-strewn interior. Inside he found a jumbled mass of deflated airbags, similar to the kind incorporated into most automobiles. Except these more advanced safety measures were designed to redeploy after each use, the fact that the bags hadn't retracted into their harnesses signaled that the suit had probably suffered a pretty severe power failure. Warren attempted to initiate a power-up of the suit, only to be met by a shower of sparks. He quickly killed main power and tried to run a diagnostic, hoping there was enough battery-power to run the secondary computer system. He found that the only functional micro-fusion generator was the one associated with the suit's self-contained life-support system which was designed to keep the operator safe in the event of the deployment of anesthetizing gas or immersion in water. He pulled that generator-pack and swapped it with the burned-out one that powered the emergency decoy system. He quickly selected deployment options. Then, reaching above his head into each of the suits "sleeve" compartments, he slid open two activation guards and simultaneously pressed the two buttons underneath. There was the sound of explosive bolts firing and a whoosh of released compressed air, as the suits sophisticated anti-measure decoy system deployed. Warren wriggled back outside in time to see Jared manage to power out of the Hulk's hold, only to have the Hulk kick him into a large water stand-pipe, which split, sending a huge gout of water into the air. The metal walls wrapped around his body on impact, cocooning him in the buckled steel of its shell and toppling the whole thing onto its side. When it hit, the remaining water surged out the ruined top, spreading across the ground in a jagged fan-shape. Jared turned his attention to the decoy unit. The flying mechanical sphere was ringed by two integrated, counter-rotating circles of turbine blades which provided lift and gyro-stabilization. A transparent inverted dome at the bottom housed advanced holo-projection technology whereas a micro-machine-gun turret was housed in the top portion of the basketball-sized sphere. Warren held very still and waited for the pre-programmed show to begin. He didn't have to wait very long. The Hulk had just started to move in on Jared once more, when a burst of gunfire caught him squarely in the back of his head. It did no real damage, but got the brute's attention. The Hulk turned to be confronted with what was apparently yet another Super-Mandroid unit, one that appeared fully functional. Warren took advantage of the distraction and made a dash for Jared's position. He could hear the decoy unit pelting the Hulk with yet more short, controlled bursts of fire in a bid to keep his attention. From the Hulk's perspective, the annoying fire seemed to be coming from the holographic Mandroid-suit, the illusion complete with muzzle-fire flashes from its arm-mounted guns. It didn't take long for him to make a move to swat this annoyance. Picking up a mangled Mazda Miata, the Hulk hurled it at the hologram with tremendous force. The faux suit deployed boot-mounted rockets (not found on the actual models) and sailed into the air, avoiding the automotive missile, then continued to pepper the Hulk with bullets. Annoyed further, the Hulk stormed off toward the floating Super-Mandroid mirage, which settled slowly back to the ground and continued firing. Warren reached the wrecked standpipe and searched for any sign of Jared. He found one of the man's legs protruding from the warped metal where it had imploded around the impact of Jared's body. Warren worked his fingers beneath the edge of the metal and tried futilely to pry open Jared’s prison. The steel was far too thick for him to budge. Instead, he shook Jared’s exposed leg, trying to rouse the man. With a loud shriek of protest, the ruined section of the standpipe opened up as Jared powered out of his predicament. Warren scurried back away from the spectacle of Jared’s mightily muscled arms opening up the thick metal shell of the standpipe like he was shrugging off a light blanket. “Where’d he go?” Jared asked as he jumped back to his feet. “I think I bought us some time. We should use it to get the Hell out of here.” Jared spotted the Hulk a few hundred feet away, where the brute was raging at the mandroid hologram. “Not ‘we’, you.” “Look, you’re obviously a powerful dude, but that’s the Hulk you are so intent on mixing it up with.” Warren almost pleaded, pointing emphatically at the Hulk as he spoke. “There’s no shame in admitting that you are out of your league.” “Someone’s out of his league alright.” Jared replied, seething. “If you’d clear out and stop interfering I could do my job here.” The sound of sporadic gunfire that had been emanating from the decoy unit suddenly ceased altogether. “Sounds like the last of the ammo. That means the decoy doesn’t have a lot of power left.” As if on cue, the mandroid hologram lost focus and blurred out as the decoy unit fell from the air, clanging to the ground where it lay inert. Momentarily confused, the Hulk searched his surroundings, seeking a new target for his rage. Warren watched as the two locked eyes across the distance. He felt cold dread in the pit of his stomach. Jared turned to Warren. “You need to keep out of the way this time.” “Where exactly would be out of the way? Neither of you seem to be all that into precision control when you’re going at it.” “Find some cover...NOW!” The look accompanying that command made it clear that it would be unwise to argue. Warren ran for cover. Warren swore under his breath as he made for the building where the non-functional mandroid suit lay, moving at top speed. In a single leap, the Hulk closed the distance between himself and Jared. He landed almost on top of the shorter man roaring directly down into his face. Jared merely stared up into the brute’s face. “THAT is some SERIOUS halitosis, ya big green pansy. Probably the strongest thing about you. Why don’t you nix the bellowing and you and me settle this?” The Hulk had started his swing even before Jared had finished his challenge. Again, he connected squarely with Jared, this time the mighty punch landed right on the smaller man's jaw. The Hulk's eyes bulged-wide with surprise at the result of his awesome punch. Ready for the Hulk this time, Jared barely took a single half-step back, a brilliant grin on his face as he rubbed his bristly, chiseled jaw, more in self-appreciation than in any discomfort. "That punch only brings one word to mind Hulk." Jared explained, his grin widening. "Puny." The Hulk's face darkened with rage and he bellowed with a roar that rivaled the sound of a tornado. That word was meant for every other thing in the world. It was not meant for the Hulk. Before Warren's eyes, the massive green leviathan seemed to swell with the power induced by this outrageous affront. Veins surged into relief against muscles that threatened to split the Hulk's green skin as they burgeoned even larger with granite-hard mass and power. Jared's gaze was forced upward as the Hulk's rage even caused the brute to tower higher over him, actually increasing his height. In a flash, the Hulk brought down both boulder-like green fists on either side of Jared's head. The sheer power of those fists against Jared's shoulders shattered the asphalt all around the two combatants and Jared was driven into the earth up to his calves. But he barely seemed to notice. Stepping up and out of the shattered ground, he followed up immediately with a more strategic punch to the Hulk's solar-plexus. The jabbing strike didn't look as impressive as the Hulk's brute-force assault, but Jared's much larger opponent was staggered by it. A trace of frustration mixed with the rage in the Hulk's expression as he instantly retaliated, targeting the same point between his smaller foe's pecs with a roundhouse answering punch. "Yeah!" Jared growled, thumping the same spot on his own chest that the Hulk had just pounded (to absolutely no effect) as he stepped in closer to the surprised giant and delivered another jab to the center of the Hulk's massive plate-like pecs. The Hulk clutched at his battered sternum with one hand, bellowing with anger and (to Warren's amazement) pain, even as the Hulk reflexively cocked his other thickly muscled arm, making ready to continue trading punches with his infuriating opponent. Jared made no move to dodge or block. On the contrary, he stood his ground, staring the Hulk down with a smirk as he bounced his mighty pecs, taunting the Hulk. For a split-second, the sight of Jared's powerful flexing even made the Hulk hesitate. But the Hulk's eyes moved from the man's intimidating chest to the smirk on his face and the Hulk's rage spurred him on. Again, the Hulk crashed his fist into Jared's pecs with a force greater than that of a pile-driver. His stance firmly braced, Jared's thick, broad pecs utterly absorbed the hit. The only detectable trace of the massive power in the Hulk's blow was a resounding, ground-shaking "thump" that jarred Warren's teeth even at a distance. The Hulk's eyes were wide as saucers as he stared dumbly at Jared, who merely stood, still smugly bouncing those impervious pecs with an equally smug grin. "My turn, isn't it?" He asked as he slowly brought his arms back up into a boxer's stance. "Let's get a little different angle this time." Jared dropped his next jab, targeting the Hulk's abs, even as the Hulk was bracing for another blow to his chest. Surprised, the Hulk bent forward with the impact and Jared quickly followed up, bringing his other fist upward in an uppercut motion that caught the Hulk yet again in the chest. The power of Jared's follow-up hit actually lifted the Hulk's feet from the ground and the stunned Hulk barely manage to regain his footing as he came back down. The Hulk straightened from a stoop and gasped and wheezed, trying to draw in a breath after such a stunning hit. But the Hulk recovered quickly, if anything he was even more enraged. He was determined to wear down this stupid human as he had every other foe. Anything he could do, the Hulk could do longer and stronger. He could feel his muscles powering up, fueled by his anger even as his super-accelerated healing ability was restoring his bruised pecs to full vigor. He sent his most powerful punch yet careening into Jared's rippling abs in answer to the man's own targeting of the Hulk's mid-section. The Hulk's knuckles slammed into Jared's eight-pack, his massive green fist completely covering the man's abs on impact. But unlike the Hulk, Jared emitted only the faintest grunt and remained perfectly upright as the Hulk's fist merely bounced off, deflected by abs every bit as solid as Jared's stubbornly unyielding pecs. Even this man's unprotected gut was imbued with a level of muscular power the Hulk had never before encountered. The Hulk determinedly followed through, completing the same abs/chest combo that Jared had rocked him with, only to feel the unsettling sensation of his mighty punches being effortlessly turned aside by Jared's broad, bulging pecs as easily as the man’s chiseled mosaic of thick abdominal muscles had just done. Warren wasn't sure if it was just for show, but Jared actually yawned as he lazily rubbed his phenomenally defined abs where the Hulk's punch had landed. "Gotta bring your A-game Hulk, if you wanna take on this bod." Jared sneered. He again thumped his own pecs for emphasis, only this time, he put far, far more power into his grand-standing. There was a tremendous sound: "KA-THOOOM!" Jared's inhumanly thick chest resonated with the phenomenal power of his self-inflicted blow with a sound like some cosmic bass drum and the shock-wave slammed the Hulk into a nearby concrete retaining wall, driving his massive green body deep into the shattered concrete, where he came to rest with only his arms and legs protruding from the jagged hole. Warren's mind struggled to comprehend the kind of might that could slam the Incredible Hulk into a concrete wall, embedding him like a cannonball. And not even with a direct blow, but merely the concussive force generated by Jared thumping his own thick chest. Jared threw a glance in Warren’s direction and winked. "How's that for precision control?" He turned back and headed toward the Hulk once more. Apparently, just by adjusting the way he flexed his muscles, Jared could direct the brunt of such shock-waves with the precision of a shaped-charge explosive. Which was definitely a good thing. Warren didn't even want to think about what even a fraction of such power might do to him if misdirected. Warren scurried for better cover behind a pile of debris, peeking over it to watch the ongoing fight between these two titans. Jared strode confidently toward the downed Hulk, who didn't stay down for long. With a roar, the Hulk shattered a large section of the concrete wall, ripping wider the hole formed by his impact as he extricated himself. Without hesitation, the Hulk scrambled upright and boomed across the asphalt toward Jared, who continued his own approach with that same confident swagger, unphased by the sight of an enraged Hulk bearing down on him, shaking the ground with the power of those enormous green feet. Jared spread his arms in an open gesture, inviting the Hulk to take his best shot. "I do love a sparring partner who is too stupid to give up." The charging Hulk pulled back his mighty arm preparing to hammer Jared once more, but the sight of the powerful, bare-chested man standing there with a look, not of terror but of amusement, on his handsome face confused the Hulk. Like a predatory cat whose prey refused to run, the Hulk was thrown off by the situation. He skidded to a stop before Jared, his fist still cocked to deliver a blow, but uncertain about how to proceed. "Aw C'mon Hulk, losing your nerve just because a guy’s got bigger muscles than you?" Jared teased, peering smugly up into the Hulk's face over those impossible pecs of his, giving his sternum a couple of light wraps with the knuckles of one hand, inviting the Hulk to try again as he caused waves of striations to undulate across the wide expanse of his chest. The Hulk's eyes were drawn to that display of rippling muscle and for a moment he seemed almost entranced by the sight. Then the Hulk shook his head briskly, snapping out of his nearly hypnotic state as Jared's words sank in. "STUPID humans NEVER learn!" The Hulk raged. "HULK IS STRONGEST ONE THERE IS!!" The Hulk once again hammered Jared's pecs with a punch of phenomenal power. And yet again, Jared took the hit without flinching, smiling at the Hulk's ineffectual effort as he clasped his hands behind his back, still leaving himself totally exposed to the Hulk's fury. Warren watched in awe. It appeared that Jared had the power to end this fight, but was intent on toying with the Hulk. Warren knew enough about the Hulk's nature to worry about such a cavalier approach to the power of the Hulk. Jared might have the upper hand now, but the extent of the Hulk's ability to grow stronger with his increasing rage had no known upper limit. Almost as if reading Warren's thoughts, Jared continued his taunts. "Better, almost felt that one." Jared said, but shook his head in disappointment. "Still, I thought you were supposed to really muscle-up when you get pissed. Finding out just how much is why I'm here, so could we skip over these piss-ant little love-taps?" Jared was intentionally trying to make the Hulk more powerful. Warren couldn't believe it. And clearly, Jared knew the psychological buttons he needed to push that would most enrage the Hulk - anything denigrating the Hulk's image of himself as the strongest being on planet Earth. "Or is this all you got?" Jared asked, laughing at the Hulk's efforts so far. "C’mon, step it up Hulk, it’s embarrassing to see you gettin’ rolled by nothin’ more than a decent set of pecs." "SHUT UP! Hulk will SMASH puny man!" The Hulk raged as another powerful punch thudded impotently against the point where Jared's mighty pecs met. The Hulk blinked stupidly at the grinning, wholly unaffected target of his fury. "Wow." Jared said, obviously still disappointed. He seemed to be at a loss for words to describe the Hulk's punch. "That was just...weak." He scoffed, shaking his head. The Hulk was seized by inarticulate rage. He punched Jared again. Then he followed up, not waiting for a reaction. He blitzed Jared's pecs with blow after blow. "Yeah!" Jared growled encouragement. "Show me what you can do Hulk." He laughed haughtily as the blows hammered his pecs, which seemed to withstand each new and more powerful punch as easily as the last. "Hulk will make puny man STOP laughing." The Hulk declared as his muscles again began to swell with intensified strength commensurate with his mounting rage. Jared glanced over at Warren, where he cowered behind cover. Warren couldn't be sure, but the man looked bigger now, taller. Jared tossed his head toward the Hulk and rolled his eyes. Warren stared back his jaw dropped in amazement, unable to believe what he was seeing. Despite the Hulk's mounting power, Jared wasn't even breaking a sweat. With a smirk, Jared mouthed the words "watch this", then turned his attention back to the Hulk. Jared's pecs bunched up huge into a tight flex as the Hulk's next punch landed home. Much of the power of the Hulk's hit rebounded back into the Hulk's arm from Jared's suddenly denser pecs and the Hulk staggered back a step, growling with the unexpected pain of the recoil. "Hurts don't it?" Jared teased as he bounced his pecs a couple of times before relaxing his chest once more. The Hulk snarled and roared as he resumed his pummeling of Jared's chest. Jared moved his left leg a little further back in order to more powerfully brace his stance, then he began to pay close attention to the rhythm of the Hulk's punches. He began trying to match the Hulk's pace, flexing into the Hulk's punches. Lightly at first, meeting the incoming fury of the Hulk's fist with the smallest tensing of his pecs. The sound of the Hulk's punches changed, becoming less of a "Boom" and more of a dull "Thud". As he got the timing right, Jared began to increase the intensity of his flexing. Instead of bouncing off Jared's relaxed muscles, the Hulk's fists began colliding with perfectly timed expansions of Jared's flexing pecs. The Hulk staggered back a half-step, as his fist was deflected uncontrollably in an unexpected direction with each punch. But he continued his assault. Jared smiled. He flexed a little harder and forced the Hulk back another step. The Hulk began to grunt with each punch as his fists were suddenly rebounding off the perfectly timed pulsing flexes of Jared's pecs with more force than they were imparting on impact. It was hard for the Hulk to keep his balance as his own fists were bounced back toward him more and more forcefully. The Hulk grunted and snarled with effort as he kept up his attack, even as Jared's flexing pecs intercepted and redirected his every punch. Jared flexed harder, moving forward and bulldozing the Hulk relentlessly backward. He began to humiliate the Hulk by occasionally deflecting the Hulk's fist with a precisely aimed flex of his pecs that sent the brute's fist careening back into the Hulk's own face. The Hulk snarled and raged, leaning into his punches to try and hold his ground against Jared's advance, at first, with some success. The Hulk tried to keep up the pressure and regain the momentum in their battle. He clasped both hands into one enormous club-like fist and swung against Jared like a baseball batter swinging for the bleachers. "Well, Hulk." Jared said as he pressed his finger to his ear as though hearing something over his communicator. "You're now hitting with an order of magnitude more power than your first punch." Jared cocked his head, apparently still listening through his earpiece as he momentarily ignored the Hulk's continual pounding of his pecs. Jared nodded as he verbally agreed a couple of times with the unseen party communicating with him. All the while, the Hulk continued to pound with increasing fury on Jared's relaxed pecs. The inherent muscle-tone alone of the man’s powerful chest was enough to absorb the power of the Hulk’s relentless hammering. Jared finally dropped his arm back to his side and returned his full attention to the Hulk. "Now, where was I?" He asked himself as he glanced down to watch the Hulk's latest punch bounce uselessly off his chest. "Oh, yeah." As the Hulk's next punch landed, Jared resumed countering by flexing his pecs. The expansion of muscle collided with the Hulk's double-fist and the recoil spun the Hulk around and sent him stumbling back several yards before he caught his balance again. "I was in the middle of pounding you into next week just by flexing these little ole pecs of mine." Jared explained as he once again strode forward into the Hulk's onslaught. The Hulk ran at Jared full tilt, swinging. He repeated his attack over and over. Each time Jared's pecs flexed into the impact and the Hulk's punch was forced to rebound, the force of it driving the Hulk backward again and again. The Hulk was lost in a berserker rage and only became aware of his surroundings once more when he felt his back pressed into that concrete retaining wall once again. Jared moved relentlessly forward. Crowding the Hulk to the point that he could no longer take a decent swing at him. “GET AWAY FROM HULK!” The Hulk bellowed, planting his palms against Jared’s pecs and pushing desperately. The massive brute sank slowly to his knees as he put all of his strength into trying to stop Jared . The Hulk’s mighty arms trembled with effort as he managed to hold Jared back briefly. But Jared sneered and took the final couple of steps that resulted in him pinning the Hulk against the concrete, trapping the Hulks hands between the two combatants muscular chests. “Oh come on, Hulk! Surely you can push harder than that.” Jared taunted. He placed his hands on his hips, smirking into the Hulk’s face as the green goliath grimaced with effort. “Here’s a question for you Hulkie; If you are the strongest one there is, What does that make a guy who can do this?” With an explosive flex, Jared’s pecs surged thicker. The Hulk threw his head back and roared with his supreme effort trying to resist. The trapped Hulk twisted and grunted, but he couldn’t free himself. Cracks began to radiate from the concrete where the Hulk’s back was being pressed into the wall ever more forcefully. Jared ramped up his flex again, his pecs were a relentless burgeoning wall of muscle that seemed on the verge of flattening the torso of the helpless Hulk, who wheezed loudly as the air was driven from his mighty lungs. Warren bolted from his place behind cover, heading for Jared. The Hulk might be a rampaging menace, but somewhere inside him was Bruce Banner. He felt he had a duty to at least remind Jared of this fact before the awesomely powerful man did something he might later regret. “Let...Hulk...breath...” The Hulk pleaded weakly. As he ran, Warren was relieved to see Jared step back momentarily. The Hulk’s arms dropped to his side and the giant’s green body heaved with a massive inhalation. After allowing the Hulk a couple of ragged gasps for air, Jared leaned in again, pinning the Hulk to the wall once more. “Now, tell me who’s the strongest, Hulk!” Jared demanded. “Hulk!” The Hulk insisted, snarling. He threw his arms around Jared, attempted to crush him in a bear-hug. Jared flexed his awesome muscles once more and there was a sound like a gunshot. Huge cracks spread out from the Hulk’s back in the concrete. Warren wasn’t sure if the sound was the concrete giving way or the Hulk’s ribs. The Hulk let out a blood-curdling sound that wasn’t his usual rage-filled roar. This was more like a scream of pain or terror. “Wrong answer.” Jared shouted into the Hulk’s face. Jared’s pecs, triceps and shoulders simultaneously flexed even more powerfully, breaking the Hulk’s hold. The Hulk resorted to beating his great green fists into Jared’s back as his trapped torso began to sink into the rapidly pulverizing concrete. Warren came to a stop just behind Jared. He found himself actually feeling sorry for the brutalized Hulk. “Hey! Maybe you should ease up.” “Not until I hear him admit it. SAY IT! WHO’S THE MAN?! WHO’S THE STRONGEST?! SAY IT OR I SWEAR I’M GONNA BE WIPING WHAT’S LEFT OF YA OUTTA MY CHEST-HAIR FOR WEEKS. SAY IT YOU WIMP!” At this point, Warren was pretty sure that the Hulk was out. He was totally unresponsive, his head lulling lifelessly. “That’s enough, Jared! He’s had it, he can’t hear you anymore.” Warren pointed out, growing more concerned about Jared’s state of mind with each passing second. But Jared kept ramping up the pressure, the flexing of his awesome musculature contorting the Hulk’s over-matched torso to a disturbing degree. “Jared! BACK OFF!” Warren began to hammer his fists into Jared’s rippling back, but it was like pounding on an oak stump that someone had wrapped in a sheet of thick rubber. Warren wasn’t sure that he’d had any effect at all on Jared, but for whatever reason, the frighteningly powerful man stepped back away from the Hulk, allowing the great green behemoth to slump and collapse on the ground at Jared’s feet. Jared staggered back and then whirled around, his attention fixing fully on Warren. Rage and frustration mingled on his face. He was clenching his fists causing the muscles in his forearms to writhe like they were composed of braided anacondas. Warren found that it was all he could do to keep from turning and running. Warren held up both hands and tried to placate the man. “It’s over. Just calm down.” Jared was breathing heavily, causing those Hulk-humbling pecs of his to heave like storm swells. He forced himself to take two long slow breaths in an attempt to calm himself and then began to pace back and forth along a short line like he was trying to burn off the energy his anger had fueled within him. “Sorry.” Jared offered, almost sheepishly. “I can be kinda like the opposite of our big green friend there.” He gestured to the vanquished Hulk where he lay unmoving on the ground. “The angrier he gets the stronger he gets. But with me, the more of my strength I use, the harder it gets to control my temper. His rage fuels his strength, my strength fuels my rage.” Jared stopped pacing, placed his hands on his hips and stared at the ground for a moment. “I thought I could handle it.” He shook his head disappointed with himself. “I guess it’s a good thing you were here.” Jared took a final long breath and looked Warren squarely in the eyes. “Thank You. I owe you one. You need anything, name it.” Warren sighed. His tension leaving him at almost the same rate Jared’s anger was subsiding. This first bit of relative calm he had experienced since he'd first encountered Jared, made him suddenly aware of a distinct draft. He reached behind him in a vain attempt at pulling the shredded remains of his underwear over his nearly bare ass as a local news chopper approached their position. “I wouldn't say no to a decent pair of pants?”

The last word actually made his cock twitch hard. I could feel it next to mine. His entire body seemed to vibrate, as well, as if in unison with his stiff meat. I could have sworn the guy whispered the word ‘finally’ but it could have just been my own hopeful imagination. I could feel his ass clamping tightly together, as well. I didn’t know exactly what was causing his reaction, but I knew I liked it. Again, it took almost all of my strength not to squeeze the dude so hard that something broke. It was like I wanted his body to melt into mine. I had a need to be so close to him that a mere hug wouldn’t and couldn’t be enough to satisfy. Instead, my big paws squeezed his hard ass tightly causing the dude to wince a little, but he also gurgled something about me being ‘so big and strong.’ I knew it was best to distract myself from my intense desires of the moment, so I went back to asking questions. “What’s you name, kid,” I said, smiling at his face. “Bradley,” he replied. It wasn’t Biff, but it was close. He definitely looked like a Bradley and I bet he was a ‘the second’ or better yet ‘the third.’ That would make things even more complete. Hearing his name made me want to flex my guns, so I tensed my arms as I held his body at my waist. His eyes shot exactly where I hoped they would when my biceps swelled thicker. He mouthed some words but it wasn’t hard to see they were ‘fuck yeah.’ This high-powered businessman, this preppy ‘I come from old money’ dude clearly got off on things more powerful than him. I bet he owned a fast car. I bet he employed a trainer that looked like a trainer should – huge, hot, and virile. I bet he loved to skydive. The guy probably loved being near things that reminded him of his own mortality – his limits. I was pretty sure he loved anything that could subdue him. That’s why my arms easily caught and kept all of his attention. He could feel the power of my guns, since they were easily holding him in the air, but looking at their power – taking in their hugeness and beauty along with knowing what they could do – that’s what turned him on even more. It was like he was some kind of tactile learner, who needed to see and experience things to believe them. But he definitely loved it when things looked powerful. I could again feel his cock twitching for joy as he gazed at my tensed arms. There’s something special that happens to a mature muscle man when he figures out some young thing is attracted to his daddy strength and size. It’s hard to explain, but there’s a switch that goes on inside the big man’s head and he instantly intuits what will make the other guy happy. I’m pretty sure it comes with age and not just from being big. I’ve seen some big men in my life that had no idea how to please little fellas. But give a muscleman some years and a whole lot of experience and the wisdom flows as easily as a posing routine. My dick registered the little pup’s reaction to my tensed arms way before my brain did. It’s like the synapses from what my hands were feeling and all that my eyes were witnessing decided to go south first, alerting my cock to potential pleasure before it did the same for my brain. The pup’s expression as he gaped upon my massive biceps signified another hurdle had been leapt over in this little muscle tango he and I were doing. I was passing some test, moving to the next round, and being moved to the front of the class in this guy’s opinion – and that was just as important as him getting to new levels in my estimation. In order for a young small buck to want to be controlled, subdued, or dominated he needs to trust his master completely. He’s got to want his master completely. I learned a long time ago there are guys out there that say they love big men, but I quickly realized they knew nothing about true muscle worship. Let me give all my big muscled brothers a little word of advice – if you come across small dudes who think that worshipping your big bod is only about them touching or you flexing please turn around and run. For one thing, the verbal ascent to worship needs to be intense and should almost equal the final explosion. A true worshipper is not afraid to talk about your huge muscles or their thirst for said mounds of beef. A sure sign of a lousy worshipper is a silent worshipper. Another way of weeding out unsuccessful worshippers is listening close to their terminology. If a small dude can only say ‘I love your fucking huge arms’ and ‘Wow, what a giant chest,’ it’s more than likely you have only a muscle whore on your hands. Don’t get me wrong – there’s a place for muscle whores in every big man’s life, but they aren’t meant to be long term. They’re good when you want to just get a superficial boost to your ego. These guys are what I call the lightweights. They usually shoot their loads before you even get fully charged – mainly because they just love bulges – and not what has gone into making those bulges. These shallow dudes will squirt all over the place as soon as you flex a little or let them touch your body. Rarely are they concerned about you getting off and the thought of you being a little rough makes them go nelly screaming out of your apartment. Like I said before, there’s a place for such guys in the world – but I’ve grown wise in my old age and I’ve learned to look for something much more substantial – something a lot deeper. A true muscle daddy worshipper appreciates your wisdom as much as he appreciates your size. He’s into your bulges – I guarantee that – but he’s just as excited about seeing how those muscles influence your daddy psyche, as well. The guys that turn out to be keepers need their big man to be three-dimensional. The little pup’s said, “He, of course, needs to have the body from hell, but he better have the attitude from hell, too.” I’m not talking about being some ax murderer or psychopath – I mean the muscled dude has to have a cockiness that enables him to squeeze his pup’s neck hard for a greeting or can make flirts back away from his pup with just a low growl or an intense stare. If a young stud is a real worshipper he’ll be looking for the daddies that have the third aspect of a complete package – the big man has to have experience. This is why most young men can’t reach true muscle daddy-om. They don’t have the years that make them fantastic kissers, charming beyond your wildest dreams, pro sexual athletes, and – most importantly – men with a sixth sense about exactly what will make their pup happy. It’s, of course, rare that such specific and powerfully-charge individuals can find each other, but it does happen. I knew many couples that were living in daddy-pup bliss and had been for years. Unfortunately, that special prize had eluded me for all of my life. I had been with some fantastic guys – but most of them had merely turned out to be muscle whores. They were into my hard beef, but could not have cared less about my thoughts, my wisdom, or my need to truly dominate a guy. Let’s stop and get one thing straight – the word dominate has gotten a bad rap in recent years. Everyone views it as something negative or demeaning. I think the great work in the area of spousal abuse had really brought the wrong kind of attention to the type of domination I’m referring to. In the muscle daddy world – to dominate means there first had to be an invitation. It’s like the big man is standing on the side of the ballroom and he only enters the dance if some young pup walks up to him and asks. That’s why most of my evenings with so-called muscle worshippers merely ended in them getting off on my massiveness. That’s all they wanted. But it can be so much more – it can be so much more empowering to be dominated. It’s when that special someone trusts you so completely and needs you so completely that they actually request you to become something special for them – something more powerful. That’s when the true magic happens. That’s when lives change. And what’s crazy – what you might not fully understand – is that the dominator is subdued, as well. He becomes a slave to his pup. There’s no way for you to fully understand until it happens to you, but let’s just say that you give up all rational thought when you become somebody’s full fledge muscle daddy. You become their protector, their trainer, their disciplinarian, and so much more – but you also become tied to them in a way that all the fucking strength in your body could not undo no matter how hard you try. You become theirs as much as they become yours. So, you can see how thrilling it could be to pass certain hurdles in this dance the young pup and I were doing. I could feel my own heart swelling with hope – with anticipation over what the next few hours could bring. I had been on the precipice many times before – only to be a solo jumper, the would-be pup preferring the safety of the ledge instead of joyously falling into the abyss of true muscle worship. My fantasies of what might be had taken me to some other place and the pup had finally torn his eyes away from my bulging arms to notice (another sign of a true worshipper – caring about what was happening with the daddy). He wanted to bring me back into the glorious here and now. “And what’s your name, sir?” he asked, clearly knowing full well what the word at the end of his sentence would do to me. To a muscle daddy – a good one – hearing the word ‘sir’ sends a jolt to his balls that equals the electricity it takes to light up a small town. My mother always made me use the words ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ to show that I was raised right and I think it is a very similar situation when pup’s say ‘sir.’ This dude was sending me a message with a simple three-letter word. He wanted me to know that he was raised right when it came to respect and adoration of elders. He also wanted me to know that he had some basic knowledge in the world of submission. Since gay men were now allowed to live such open lives the new ‘in the closet’ was when it came to fetishes. Gay men today had learned to talk in code to make clear what they were into – or what they weren’t into. The word ‘sir’ was definitely part of the muscle daddy worshipping scene – and it was used frequently to help others know if they could proceed with their flirting or not. The pup was clearly inviting me to move to the next level of our ever-evolving understanding of each other. We were peeling back the layers of the onion until we got to the core – the place where we both would be free to assume the roles we both desperately wanted. Each of us, however, knew to take it slowly. One false step could ruin the entire dance and we were definitely far too engaged in the glorious ball to let that foolishly happen. “People call me Butch,” I replied. “Of course they do,” he said seriously. “I’m glad to know your name, but I think I’ll just call you ‘sir’ if that’s okay with you.” There was that word again. My cock thumped against his hard-on. He felt it – I could tell by the smile that sprang to his face. My body had betrayed me. It gave away in a clear and precise way what that word did to me. I could see that he was overjoyed to recognize that fact. I got the feeling my little pup was checking off some list in his head as he got to know me better in the same way I was doing it for him. This seemed to solidify our connection even more. He, of course wasn’t going to be a total gentleman and let my body’s involuntary jolt of pleasure go without being alluded to. “You deserve the respect, sir,” he said, emphasizing the last word on purpose – and smiling even more when my cock again throbbed noticeably. “I know I do,” I shot back – my cock was uncontrollably reacting to this guy’s tone of respect, but that didn’t mean he was in charge. Cockiness was one of the three supports of being a muscle daddy and I could call on that reservoir of confidence whenever I wanted. I truly knew how incredible I was – and not only did it make me sure of myself, it also helped me to shower that same feeling on others. “I get the feeling you can be the perfect respectful pup.” I had anticipated his lust for that certain word correctly. His entire body shook with revealing pleasure – a response similar to mine. We both realized another hurdle had been easily sailed over. I loved the fact that he had to close his eyes – until the joyous jolt of worshipper euphoria passed. I wondered briefly if he was also saying a silent prayer to the muscle gods in hopes the beefy older dude holding him might be the real deal. I added my own plea to Mount Olympus or wherever for the same thing. I was beginning to worry that I was moving beyond a point of return. I was so hopeful about this pup I was beginning to worry that I might be projecting a lot of his reactions. I tried to be reasonable and realistic, but it was hard when all the signs pointed to your desired end.

My heart seemed to stop, but was really racing as I watched Colin in front of the scale. Without hesitation, he dropped his cargo shorts on the floor. Now I knew all along how strong his calves were. And in the light of the Coach's office, they looked massively powerful. But seeing his glutes in full view for the first time really drove home for me how much power he had gained. They were quite massive, and now I knew why he moved with such ease on the field. The briefs could barely contain all the solid muscle. Thick ropes of muscle snaked down his legs, and watching them twitch gave me chills. He turned slowly and I got a full view of his diamond shaped quads. They were perfectly symmetrical, and it became apparent to me that they had to be strong, to carry that dense upper body muscle. Even before he shed the hoody, I was amazed at how massively wide his shoulders were. Looking directly at me, Colin tugged down the zipper of his hoody. I could see underneath the collar of a flimsy tank top. It was one of my old tank tops...that I never wore because it was too loose on me. Without hesitating he pulled off the hoody. The first thing I noticed in the reveal was his delts. They truly were softball sized, and perfectly rounded. The size and thickness really added to his broad, imposing frame. And they needed to be big, to support he newly thick neck. My eyes instinctively drifted down to his biceps. Even relaxed, I could see the peaks and cuts in them, and I naturally compared them to mine. Looking at my arms, and back at his, which were clearly much bigger, Colin caught my eye. He must have sensed how my train of though came to a complete halt. He grinned, turned and let me see his thick triceps. I was still speechless as he said "python...is the word you are looking for Greg...python." He didn't even have to flex them for me to know he was right. He was now standing in front of me, in just briefs, and my too-big tank top. Needless to say, it appeared to be painted on his jacked up frame. His chest was as thick as the rest of him - defined and clearly quite powerful. Just from the size of his pecs, the tank top rode up on his torso, and there was about a 4 inch gap between the tank and his briefs. I could see the outline of a solid 8-pack cobblestone of abs. In a flash, he grabbed the hem of the shirt, pulled it up over his head, and I got a flash of the back of his powerful triceps. He tossed the shirt, turned, and stepped on the scale. The weights of the scale were still set at my weight, 150 + 44. As soon as Colin stepped on it, I heard the balancing bar clunk UP. He outweighed me. I was surprised, but he didn't seem to be. Coach Conway approached, his face as stunned as mine must have been. He started to move the lower weight from 44 up to 50. Colin just laughed, and I could see the power in his lats from behind. I was taking in the entirety of his massive Y physique, and was startled by Colin's voice. Very quietly, he said, "You need to start at 200 Coach." Coach Conway adjusted the weight to 200, and then slowly started to move up the smaller counterweight. 201. 202. 203. 204. The bar was still not in balance. Colin seemed to be relishing my and the coach's response. 205 206 Finally, the bar settled at 207. 207lbs. Colin had gained eighty-three pounds in just seven weeks, and now outweighed me by 13lbs. He turned and looked at the coach, and without the least bit of irony, he just said "big enough for the team now?" Without waiting for a response, he stepped off the scale. He just stood there, crossed his arms, which made them seem even more imposing. His very presence seemed to suck all the oxygen out of the room. Coach Conway tried to gather his thoughts. He just said "That is a remarkable gain Colin, you have worked very hard." Colin studied him, and me. Then he just said "Now you can watch me work out on the field with the other players." Again, more of a statement then a question. Coach nodded, and told Colin to go change into his workout gear. As he turned to go to the locker room, I offered him his hoody. He just smiled and said "I won't be needing that anymore Greg." I watched as his powerful frame walked down the hall.

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As they prepare for the practice that evening, Miguel admits to Alden that he is a bit apprehensive having those pills with him. He says it is too tempting to use not just one, but all of them at one time. Alden says not to worry about it that much since Gibson at least trusts them with having them in safe keeping. As it turns out during practice, both Alden and Miguel are on separate squads as the biggest jerk of them all, Doug the first string quarterback, will be on the team with Alden. ‘Hey dipshit, way to use those fucking hands.’ He says to Alden after a play. Several of the other guys on the squad start laughing and giving high-fives to each other. Alden turns and rolls his eyes so Doug can’t see him doing it. As the team gathers together to give instructions, Doug once again harasses Alden telling him how much he wants to knock him out. ‘I’m giving you one more shot dumbass, catch the fucking ball.’ After the snap, Doug tosses the ball to Alden as he fumbles it and two linebackers knock him down. Alden winces in pain as the guys get off him. Doug walks over and glares at him. ‘That’s it fucker. We are going to have a chat in the locker room.’ He grabs Alden’s arm and lifts him up only to crack him in the back with his fist. Alden doubles over in pain for a few moments as the squad moves into the locker room from the field. He follows behind slowly. As he scurries inside, Doug pushes him up against a wall and starts to taunt him over and over. ‘So moron, I think you have just worn out your welcome on the team. Every guy here can probably vouch for me as to why you should probably be fired.’ ‘Hey I am sorry Doug. It’s just…..your passes are not exactly perfect.’ Doug begins to turn beet red at this answer. ‘WHAT THE FUCK? NOT PERFECT? ARE YOU SHITTING ME? You have been playing this stupid game for months Alden. Perhaps you just suck ass. I am so tired of this bullshit. I am done with you.’ Alden remembers the bottle in his jersey pocket and pops it open. He plops one of the pills in his hand and quickly knocks it down his throat. Doug smirks a little as he does this. ‘Well well, the poor little man must be in some pain if he is popping pain pills. I’ll give you REAL pain!’ Doug rams his fist over and over into Alden’s chest as he cries out in pain as the squad looks on. Remarkably though the pain subsides quickly as it turns to euphoria. Alden can feel the pill reacting almost immediately after it hits his stomach. Doug is completely oblivious to what is happening as several players turn to rush into the shower. Alden smiles as he feels his dark skin stretching filling up the open space in his jersey. Doug turns around and begins to notice the changes as his eyes get huge. Alden’s lower body begins to stretch the spandex to its limits as the seams begin to pop slowly. His skinny forearms have grown huge veins to accommodate his thick chocolate guns. Doug becomes mesmerized by these changes as Alden laughs hysterically feeling his chest start to burst out the front of his jersey revealing mammoth boulders of solid muscle. His abs tear through the bottle as his once nonexistent stomach muscles blow up into an astonishing 10-pack. His back and lats are now making quick work of the rest of his top as it falls to the ground. Even Alden’s face has changed as he grows a thick black beard and develops dimples in his chin and cheeks. He can see that Doug is getting turned on quite a bit. *deep voice* ‘UH HUH, who is the big man now star quarterback? Keep watching……ahh fuck look at these fucking guns.’ Alden flexes his monstrous arms as veins pop out everywhere to match his shiny brown skin. He feels his pants give way as the seams finally explode unleashing a mountain of brown muscle where his tiny legs used to be. Doug sees the silhouette of Alden’s growing love muscle as it snakes its way down his left quad. Alden makes a gesture with his eyebrows as he feels his cock beginning to rip its way free. ‘Ohh fuck yeah Doug I want you to punch me now. Give me all you have, I know you won’t have to the same impact as before.’ Doug goes to punch him in the chest and ends up hurting himself badly bruising fingers and yelling in agony. Alden’s cock finally breaks free from its captivity as the material shreds all the way down to his ankles and peels off revealing a hulking veiny black cock with a wet pink head bouncing up and down. The quarterback can’t take his eyes off of it but starts to back off. Alden walks toward him and grab his arms before he can take off. ‘Going somewhere Doug? I don’t think so, now it is time for you to feel a few punches.’ Alden lightly punches him in the gut and then along his sides making the quarterback wince every time. The huge black stud shreds Doug’s jersey and pulls him into his grasp. He starts to squeeze him tightly making the frightened white man try to get away again. Alden laughs at him trying to push his legs free. The big black hulk lifts him up and starts doing lunges with him before tossing him around and smack his backside a few times. Doug gets a tad angry at this but knows he can’t do a thing about it. Alden tears his pants open to start massaging the quarterback’s hot butt. Doug yells for help but the guys in the shower are gathering around to see what happens next without any intervention. Some of them even give the thumbs up to Alden as he slowly starts to push one of his hands into Doug’s tight hole. The immobile victim tries to tighten his hole but Alden’s incredible power only makes it hurt worse. He tries to scream but Alden takes his free hand and covers his mouth preventing any sound from getting out. Some of the guys watching begin stroking their cocks as they notice Alden’s engorged cock pooling pre all over the floor. He moans as he successfully starts to stretch the quarterback’s hole wider and wider to get his beefy black hand inside. ‘That’s a good boy Doug, let go of that tension inside you. I can make you feel oh so good.’ He pushes his hand in and out a few times as a few of the players start to move in closer to him. One of them gets down on the floor to gulp down on Alden’s huge cock making him shutter. He begins to realize that he is the center of attention as guys begin shoving their cocks in his face. Hands begin massaging him as he lets go of Doug. The scared quarterback goes running into the shower to sulk. Alden begins sucking multiple cocks as he himself gets serviced. Before long there are five cocks spewing thick frothy cum all over Alden’s massive muscles as his shiny brown coat begins to look all white. He laughs and gives winks to all of the guys as they go back into the shower to clean up. The one servicing his cock continues to work him over. Alden tells him to stop so he can go harass Doug who is still in the shower area. Alden waddles in as guys start gesturing to where Doug is at. Alden tries to move slowly so he doesn’t make much noise. Doug appears to be in shock as he cowers in one of the bathroom stalls. Alden opens the door quickly and tries to maneuver his way in so he can get to Doug. He stops smiling at him and looks as if he feels a bit sorry for Doug. ‘Look man, I get you are an asshole, but I know how to help you relax. Maybe we can salvage some kind of agreement out of this. You leave me and my friend Miguel alone and I won’t hurt you. You have already screwed up your chances of being the first quarterback now Doug. Give me that fine ass of yours.’ ‘I am not queer freak. You come near me and I will press charges.’ Alden grabs him before he can move and turns him around so his ass touches the black hulk’s cock. Doug begins violently squirming causing Alden to restrain him so he doesn’t injury himself further. ‘Come on now Doug just relax, I think you just need a good anal massage to clear out those nasty thoughts in your head. It will be good for you.’ ‘Fuck you faggot, you won’t get away with this.’ ‘Too late genius, I think the entire first-string practice squad has jizzed all over me so they gave their approval.’ Doug can feel Alden’s huge rod starting to move inside him as he moans in agony. Alden starts to push his weight on top of the frightened quarterback as his enormous chest rubs on the white man’s back. The black hulk starts to grind him slowly as he moans deeply into Doug’s ear. ‘Ahhh good boy Doug…..i can feel you relaxing already. Let me do all the work and you just enjoy the ride.’ Alden increases his speed and starts to yell as he feels his balls growing and filling with tons of cum. Doug moans himself as he feels his cock getting hard. Alden sees this and reaches around to stroke it. The quarterback starts to rub Alden’s massive tree trunk quads and appears to be going with the flow. ‘See it feels good doesn’t it? Now do we have an understanding about me and Miguel?’ ‘Uhh what the…..oh mmmmm…..fuck your cock is so……yeah we have an understanding Alden. Shit man I am blown away by your size and power…..how did you do this?’ ‘Hehe it is my secret. Mmmmm oh fuck it is going to be a big load Doug, where do you want it?’ ‘What? I don’t want your cum on me that is fucking sick. I mean…..oh fuck you won’t take no as an answer will you?’ Alden laughs and says it depends. Doug quickly agrees that he won’t harass him or Miguel again. Alden pulls out and slaps his cock on Doug’s neck. He flips him around and slaps his face and lips with it. ‘Open up for me Doug…..i think you might enjoy what I have to offer.’ Doug slowly opens his mouth as Alden shoves it inside and starts fucking him rapidly. Doug moans deeply as Alden begins to gasp feeling his load pushing its way up into his thick rod. He pulls his cock out of Doug’s mouth and wanks it wildly. ‘OHHHH YEAHH MAN IT IS COMING FAST……OH FUCK……STICK YOUR TONGUE OUT DOUG…..’ Doug sticks his tongue out as Alden’s piss slit gapes open and shoots thick ropes down his throat. Doug gags immediately as Alden pumps jet after jet down his gullet. The quarterback drools huge amounts of cum down his chest as Alden yells in ecstasy. Several players start shooting their loads all over the shower and bathroom hearing and seeing the whole sequence. The black hulk finishes cumming and leans down to scoop his jizz up and swallows it. He leaves the stall and walks over to one of the showers to clean up. Doug stumbles to his feet and goes to the other side of the shower area to clean up. Most of the practice squad gather around Alden as he begins to shrink. They mutter to themselves wondering how he could be shrinking. Doug stands in utter silence under a shower head as he stares into space. It is unclear what he will do next after this crazy experience. End of Part II

Hey guys if u have been following my two previous stories you will know who these characters are, if u haven't just enjoy anyway!! The first part involves no dom, its just the set up part. Let me introduce you to them. Alex: http://radiokida.deviantart.com/art/IM-POSING-Matt-Tribute-290775863 Leo:http://radiokida.deviantart.com/art/Muscle-Belt-Bigdudes-Tribute-181398324 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The first day of Alex and Leo's domination venture started of like every other day, repping a 2ton tractor like it was a feather! up and down it went for what seemed like hours and they didnt even break sweat. Alex and Leo were both skinny guys until they both took some magic potion and pills respectively to turn them into super freaky huge muscle beasts. Alex was the bigger of the two weighing in at a staggering 2000lb of freaky muscle, 200" biceps, thighs thicker and wider than 2 professional heavyweight bodybuilders put back to back, calves bigger than heads, pecs bigger than tractor wheels, back and lats wider than 2 door frames and shoulders thicker than bodybuilders thighs. Leo was not far behind, weighing a respectable 1850lb, 190" biceps, everything else was pretty much as described above. What made these two even more staggering is that they are both still in there teens, leo is 18 and alex is 19. The base for there business venture was a unused barn on the outskirts of town, doors wide enough to fit there huge frames through, and a roof high enough for all there super heavy lifting, which included the tractor and a huge combine harvester, along with 30cm thick iron bars for them to play with. Before they left there home town they put adverts on muscle forums and other muscle websites advertising their business, asking potential clients to ring them and book an appointment, they were looking for muscle lovers who loved being dominated by two huge young guys and also enjoyed being humiliated in various strength challenges and been tossed around like a rag doll, but they stressed that no sexual activities would take place, that it was all muscle and strength domination and they didn't put how big they were, wanting to keep it a big surprise. They would charge £500 an hour Alex finished repping the tractor, put it down and hit a monumental double bi pose in front of leo, all 200" his bulging gargantuan arm rocketed up his arm passed his fist and his head. " is there a better sight than this dude?" he asked Leo "no there aint!" replied leo with a disbelieving laugh, " but ive still got some growing to do so u better watch out!!!" Leo flexed his inhumane biceps the peak just falling short of the top of his head. Leos growth had not yet finished he still had 2 more of the russian pills to take, the plan was to ask a select client if they paid an extra £200 they would see Leo grow right before there eyes. "yeah only if the client coughs up the money kid, anyway look at the time our first client arrives in a hour, we need to set this place up!" alex replied. Alex and Leo started moving the tractor, combine harvester, the steel bars and hay bails around the barn to set positions, the hay bails will be used as soft landing areas for the clients. Their first client was a guy called Martin. Martin was a 25yr old football player (soccer), from playing regularly and working out martin had gotten himself a nice ripped body, similar to Cristiano Ronaldo's. But his fetish always lied with huge muscle and huge guys, so when he saw the duos advert he leaped at the chance too fulfil one of his dreams, he agreed to all the t's & c's that alex and leo had put in place, he made his appointment for 11am. Martin got off the bus at the stop closet to the barn which was a 5 min walk away, he walked up the pathway towards the seemingly derelict rusting barn, there was nothing on the outside stating it was in use, alex had simply told him it was the big barn on the old farm road and to use the small door on the left side of the barn. Martin walked up to the door, slightly shaking as he didn't know what to expect but also looking forward to his upcoming muscle fest. He walked in, looking round trying to find his two huge masters, spotting all the perfectly placed objects, which to him just seemed like a normal interior of a barn. " Er er er Hello, Alex,Leo, im martin your 11am appointment, Whe............." before he could finish his sentence he felt himself catapulting into the air and flying across the barn at a rate of knots landing on a hay bail 50 meters from where he stood. "Hello Boy!!"

Pleasure Growth 8 by F_R_Eaky Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1116-pleasure-growth/ Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1117-pleasure-growth-part-2/ Part 3: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1118-pleasure-growth-part-3/ Part 4: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1256-pleasure-growth-part-4/ Part 5: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1257-pleasure-growth-part-5/ Part 6: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1389-pleasure-growth-6/ Part 7: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1489-pleasure-growth-part-7/ "What do you mean we may be discovered?" "He's actually a lost young man, named Aaron. He ran away after one of his growth spurts, got hit by a circus train and has amnesia from that accident. Titus is what he was going by while working at the circus, trying to remember who he was. Not only is his whole family looking out for him, but the circus strongman is on the loose and rampage out looking for him, too." "They will not find him in the cavern." "Do you see what we're talking next to?!? We're standing next to his feet! The cavern is just under sixty feet in length. His feet are sticking nine feet out of the entrance. His whole body fills the cavern. If we do another ceremony and make him grow again, he won't fit in the cave at all! And even if he did, his penis is tall enough that it sticks out the hole when erect. Someone, is going to see him soon." Aaron was listening to the two men arguing at the front of the cavern. He was still a little groggy, but had felt better than he had in quite a while. He recognized one of the voices as the leader of the little clan of two-spirit people who were using him as a rite of passage or membership to their group. They had caused him to grow at least twice since he'd been here. "....He's at least sixty-nine feet tall now." "We have the herbs and medicines, they will keep him sedated." "Well, that's the other thing. I'm not sure they will, or we can. Each time he grew it meant not only more size height wise, but he's gained in muscle mass, more weight. I don't think we have enough of the herb to make a strong enough batch to keep him sedated." That's why he was feeling better. He's been drugged all this time and his body was now too big for the dosage they were feeding him. He was getting used to it, it was too small, so now he was waking up. "What more could he ask for? He's got us to worship him, and grope him, stroke him off. What man wouldn't like that? Brew the biggest batch you can. We'll sedate him, and then send parties out to gather as much of the herb as we can." "What more could I ask for?", thought Aaron. "WHAT MORE COULD I ASK FOR!?! I could as for my freedom, thank you very much!" Aaron's mind began to crowd with images of him and his older brothers playing basketball and other games during the summer. He was late bloomer that hadn't bloomed until he got the shot, laced with the uber formula created by that wacko. But that meant growing up he was always so much smaller than his older brothers, and instead of playing ball, they played keep away with him being it all the time. But then Aaron's brothers were replaced by the men here in the cave. All of them rubbing on him, taunting him, how they could keep him here, how although they were serving him, was he was serving them? "Oh, hell to the no!", he thought. "They want size....I can give them size." Aaron began to oh so lightly buck his hips and positioned a hand up and onto his very ample and large cock. "oooh yeah...come on!..." Aaron's cock began to stir, began to lengthen, thicken, and grow.... "Hmmmmmmm fuck yeah!" It grew and swelled reaching a semi-flaccid state... and then the feeling began to come over Aaron. He wasn't sure how long it had been since the last time he blew a load and grew, but he was hoping he could grow this time. He'd grow, grow so big he'd burst out of this cavern, so big the remaining sedative in him wouldn't be able to work it was now too small a batch. His body grew up and up and up first, his feet starting to move further out of the cavern, while his head and shoulders pushed against the back wall. The two men talking in front stopped when they heard some scrapping sounds, and finally realized it was Aaron's feet; they were growing larger and scooting across the ground. "He's awake! And making himself horny to grow, we've got to stop him before it really kicks in!" Making a run for the back of the cavern. the two men halted suddenly when Aaron spread his legs apart as quickly as he could and blocked the men's entry They both rain into the sides of Aaron's ankles, which were firmly pressed against the cavern mouth sides, and slowly but surely growing out and away from them. Dazed and confused after bouncing off of Aaron's ankles, the two men lay on the ground and watch the sight unfold. Aaron kept rubbing his cock and thinking about how much bigger than his brothers he was, how much bigger than his captors he was, and that he was about to become even bigger and stronger, more hung and virile. "Oooooh yeaaaaaaah!" Despite the fact of his arms being pinned and wedged into the cavern too narrow for his body and torso, Aaron was able to get in some nice strokes on his cock with his long and thick fingers. Finally, his prick rose up high enough, almost fully erect, that it was touching the hole in the ceiling and the slick fur pelts that covered it. He let those furs kiss his piss slit and head and as that caused him to get fully erect, he began to thrust and buck his hips pushing the cock through the hole. "AAuuuuugh FUCK! Yes that feels....so....." But Aaron cut himself off, the sensation hitting him again so hard. His body grew and swelled in every direction, in height, in muscle mass, in ball and cock size. His head, neck, and shoulders grew first pushing into the back wall of the cavern. It hurt his head at first, feeling like his head might get crushed in, but soon Aaron could feel his head and shoulders were making dents into the rock wall. His shoulders, back, delts, bunched and rolled, mounded and grew, wider and wider pushing into the back side walls of the cave, and although it felt as though he was receiving cuts, the side walls also soon gave way to the burgeoning, mounding, titanium dense muscle fiber that was building and building up on Aaron's body. His chest was inflating, rolling out in thickness and width, barreling out more and more, further and wider, looking almost like a roll of asphalt being laid down upon a road. It just kept going and spreading! It developed into two huge gigantic globes of granite. The upper arms were next, bunching, balling, peaking, rising up and out, swelling higher and thicker. The biceps were growing into mountains of their own right, so tall, to thick, so peaked and full. With the chest along side them, they began to rise up and push on the ceiling of the cavern. Meanwhile the gigantic horseshoe shape of the triceps was flexing and popping with just as much size, pushing down into the cavern floor, helping to rise Aaron off the ground, and indeed, dent and crumble to dust some of the cave's foundation. His thighs ballooned next, all the individual tear drop shapes expanding and increasing like balloons being filled with water. So much mass, the slightest movement and they wiggled and wobbled, their density shimming back and forth. Their diamond like cuts cut and rose into the cavern ceiling as their partner the biceps femoris, or the back of the thigh, along with the other back leg muscles grew and swelled pushing hard into the ground. Aaron had thought that he'd feel the calves getting caught, filling up the cavern entrance, but he was growing up as much as he was filling out. The cave entrance was meeting him at the bottom of his thighs. If he had been wearing shorts, his thighs would be splitting, ripping, and blowing the hem apart right now, but he wasn't wearing shorts, he was wearing the cavern, and his thighs were doing an excellent job of splitting, ripping, and blowing apart the cavern mouth. His calves having grown out with his legs, we free to bunch and hunch, pop and swell, on their own, growing large enough to almost push against one another and fight for room. The two men of the two-spirit clan, who were knocked down by Aaron's ankles, we pushed and tumbled round by the growing legs, to get over come by the giant sized calves. The massive giant heart shape, becoming engorged with blood, swelling thicker, denser, harder, with each pump, pushing the men further and farther away from the entrance. Thick veins running all over the place, fueling this growth. The two men remember when Aaron first collapsed in this cavern, how they just barely stood taller than the bottom of his calve, and now a single calve of Aaron's stood nearly two - three times their height by itself. Aarons cock and balls finished the growth. The testicles and scrotum being pushed up into the ceiling by the thighs, as they continued to swell, and inflate, as if they had an air horse with thousands of pounds of pressure hooked up to them. Aaron moaned and cried as each second he grew bigger, his balls grew bigger, the cavern stayed the same size, and the racking of his junk was becoming incredible. His cock grew long and hard, and up through the cavern ceiling hole. He tries to buck harder and harder to finish his growth, but it was becoming hard to do. His last growth spurt had made it so his cock was fairly even in position with the hole, but now, he had grown so big, although he got his head and his growing shaft through the hole, his groin region and therefore the base of his prick, had grown up closer to the entrance, a bit away from under the hole. But it didn't matter, Aaron had made it in, and he was trying to buck as much as he could to pleasure himself. But with his body growing, and his bucking, he had become too large, to dense, and too strong for the cavern. The sounds of chipping, breaking, falling rock were being heard everywhere from entrance to cavern end, outside to inside. To the men outside it sounded like a rock slide, and felt like an earthquake. Chucks of the cavern walls began to explode apart and blast outward. The two men had to make a run for it so as not to be crushed by boulders sailing through the air. The ceiling had started to give way and it fissured and cracked all around the hole, until the hole slide down, like a ring around Aaron's massive python of a cock. It landed at the base and stayed there, causing huge amounts of blood to go into but not out of the monstrous schlong, causing an increase in the growth of Aaron's massive member. But now, Aaron's arms and thus hands were free to finish the job by stroking away. And stroke he did, grunting, moaning, screaming, while his voice developed slightly deeper, his body continued to grow out further, his limbs growing out longer, his balls getting bigger churning up more and more testosterone and cum. "WUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" One last swell of gigantic growth and Aaron blew his load. Rising high into the air, the gargantuan glob of goo splattered several hundred feet away and up on the side of a mesa, making it look more like a snow covered mountain peak. Lingering trails of the shot strung from mesa to Aaron, hit the ground forming what looked like might, white capped rivers of rapids. Suddenly all the geological debris began to move, slide, roll, every which way, as Aaron began to pick himself up and stand. And stand he did, up and up, taller, and taller, with back, shoulders, chest, lat, so broad and thick he threatened to make the surrounding mesas look small in comparison. Rock, dust, and dirt, cascaded off him revealing a young man with the body of an amateur bodybuilder, fully pumped from a huge workout, his forearms, legs, some parts of his chest, and a small portion of his abs, looked a little dirtier as hair had begun to grow in thicker there and catch and hold more of the dirt than just his smooth skin. Aaron, gave one last shudder, and thrust of his cock, causing that prick to swell slightly once more, and shatter the natural cock ring that had formed, exploding it off his body. His chest heaving, Aaron tried to look around after all the dust settled from the collapsed cavern, but found he needed to bend at the waist and look over and down due to the expansion and size of his chest. It took him a while to find what he was looking for, the two men he knew to be at the mouth of the cave when he woke up and began this jack off session. Bugs... they looked like bugs to him, not even able to come up to his ankles when both he and they were standing flat footed. Something was still coursing through Aaron, however. It wasn't his memory, it wasn't the sensation of growth, it was a feeling....a feeling of sheer power. The flash backs of his brother taunting him during basketball, mixed with the feelings of his captors holding him prisoner here, and now... now he knew no one would hold him prisoner, no one could taunt him for being small and weak, and he knew... ... ... somehow, he knew... the power was still building up inside of him, ready to be unleashed again, and yet again, and again. "ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOAR!" Aaron screamed and stomped his foot causing the earth to shake. "How do you like your god now!?!" Aaron gave a most muscular and growled heavily. The two men, now frightened beyond belief, came and pissed their pants at the same time. Looking down at the reaction these ant sized men had over him, Aaron's cock sprung to life instantly, sent a shiver down the shaft, through the balls, and back up Aaron's spine. Grabbing his cock, he pointed it downward and blew once again. The two men, tried to run, but massive glob of spunk was two large. They were stuck as if hit by a tidal wave, carried on the tide of it by fifty feet or so. Almost drowned the men staggered to get to their feet, sliding and slipping on the muddy ground soaked with cum. "RAAAAAAAAAAUGH! I AM TITUS! Your god is thirsty and needs a bath, where is the closest river?" The two men tried to scream and point which Aaron could scarcely see nor hear, but finally they crawled to a dry spot and with their bodies formed the shape of an arrow pointing the direction of where a river was located. Aaron smiled and casually walked off, his footsteps sounding like bombs going off and sending lab equipment into frenzied fits of data recording a geological labs around the United States and Mexico.

Visiting your childhood home after you have lived elsewhere for ten years is always so strange. It’s a mixed bag of emotions. On the one hand you’re now a grown man and you have a separate adult life, but on the other hand you kind of revert back to emotions and attitudes you had when you were fifteen or sixteen. I’m now a successful high-end residential real estate salesman in Los Angeles, but put me back in that small town in Georgia and I revert to being a kid that’s struggling to find his identity. And some of that struggle is not fun to remember. Growing up gay in the south can be very hard and something that you never truly get over. I’ve been out to my parents for years, but it continues to be a topic that never really gets discussed. I blame the fact that I’m still single as one of the contributing factors to this perpetual silence. This trip was a quick four day stop on my way back home after some work in New York. It’s only my second visit in the last three years. I really need to get better about visiting my parents. As soon as I sit down at the kitchen table my mom starts the laundry list of questions. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Do you want to rest? Do you want me to fix you something? Let me tell you what we have in the fridge. Do you need anything washed? It almost seems like she’s trying to prevent even a second of quiet time because she’s fearful I might start talking about something scary – like my love life or, worse, my sex life. My parents are good people, but please don’t ask them to talk about subjects that have been taboo in my family since before the middle ages. After I successfully avoided any fattening food items being shoved down my throat and every type of beverage known to humans, my mother somehow convinced me to take a cake she had made to my neighbor, Mr. Ross. I cannot fathom how she manipulated me so easily, but that’s my mom. Before I even have time to protest I am walking across our front lawn to the house next door. Mr. Ross is not only our neighbor, but he was my English teacher in the 11th grade. He and his mother moved into the house next door at the beginning of that specific school year. I always thought of Mr. Ross as a mousy man. I guess he must have been only about fifteen years older than me when I was in his class, but because of his demeanor and his smallness I thought of him as ancient. I hoped he would not be at home so I wouldn’t have to speak to him. It seems that his mother had passed away about a year before and my mother had continued to make him a weekly cake since then – as if she were still helping him to heal. She told me I could just leave the Tupperware container on the porch if no one answered. That is what I wished more than anything. I really just wanted to return to my parent’s house and be a vegetable for a few days. It had been a grueling, but lucrative, month. I had sold two properties in Santa Barbara and even found time to unload a fabulous condo in New York. These sales made it possible for me to not worry about money for at least half a year. I rang the door bell and waited. There were no sounds coming from inside and this brought me relief. I did not want to stand on this porch and have to produce chit-chat with Mr. Ross. He had been an okay teacher, but we had pretty much made his life a living hell because it was his first year teaching at a public school and he was such a push-over. I decided to ring the bell one more time before I put the cake down on the welcome mat. There wasn’t any initial response so I bent down to gently place the container on the ground. That’s when the door opened. I looked up and gazed on what seemed like calves, but I wasn’t sure. I had never seen lower legs that bulged out so much at the sides. Just by looking at the two muscled shins in front of me I knew the upper legs attached were definitely jacked, as well. I stood up quickly and the sight in front of me caused me to topple backwards a couple of steps. I was too caught off guard to prevent the first thing that came to my mind to escape from my lips. “Holy shit!” “Little Will Thornton. How the heck are you? Your mom mentioned you were coming for a visit.” “Damn, Mr. Ross, what happened to you?” “Oh, you noticed the improvements, eh? Nothing happened really, I just found a lot of free time in my schedule after mom died and decided to fill it with a little weightlifting. You didn’t see her at the end, but she was so bad off that she really needed care around the clock. I guess I had forgotten what it feels like to have time for other things.” “You’re fucking huge now!” “Um, Will, I know I’m not your teacher anymore, but I really feel like I should encourage you to use less profanity and find words more appropriate for what you’re trying to convey. Remember, I teach English.” “What I’m trying to say Mr. Ross is that you look like some juiced-up bodybuilder and not the meek little guy I remember from high school. I wouldn’t have recognized you if I had passed you on the street.” “Thanks for the compliment, but please know that this is all natural – there’s no juice in this body. I was kind of squirrelly back then, wasn’t I?” There was a moment of silence as I simply stared at the man and Mr. Ross gave me time to take in the full transformation that had occurred to his body. The man had never been really tall; maybe five-eight or five-nine – five-ten at the most. But he sure seemed a lot taller now. His freakishly broad shoulders filled the entire doorway. The black tank top he was wearing was stretched to the max across his mammoth chest. There wasn’t enough material to cover his right hard nipple, which was surrounded by a large dark circle of skin and a patch of perfect brown fur. The same beautiful hair dusted the top of his magnificent pectoral muscles and for a second it looked like he actually took a small brush and made sure each strand of hair traveled in the same downward pattern. There was a pretty wide cavern created by the two huge globes of chest meat and the taut top of the cloth - struggling to not rip from being pressed out to the max. It seemed like my entire arm could have easily been lost in that empty space. A second glance at Mr. Ross’ face made my toes scrunch up in my shoes from an immediate rush of lust. The sheepish mustache that had in high school made his face look like some scrawny geek-ish used car salesman was now full and beautiful enough to make him look like some rough-and-ready masculine cowboy. The rest of his face matched the neatly cropped hair on his upper lip. The once pale Mr. Ross now had the golden sheen of someone that spent lots of time outside and his skin was beautifully smooth. His haircut made him look stylish and helped to emphasize his manly jaw line. It was basically the face of a drop-dead gorgeous muscle daddy. Then it hit me, Mr. Ross was now the epitome of daddy-ness. This revelation was reinforced by the large slabs of muscled meat that hung from both of his monstrous shoulders. His upper arms actually seemed so big that the poor guy probably wore a tank top because it was the only type of shirt that would fit. I could not believe how his biceps bulged out like someone had just used a tire pump to shoot massive amounts of air into them. His arms, however, didn’t look fake – they looked mouth-watering hard and equally as powerful. My two arms put together and pumped to the max would not come close to the size of one of his. My eyes could not move from his biceps. I struggled to think of something clever to say. I wanted to not be rude and I wanted my old English teacher to be proud of my adult command of our language, but, alas, it was not meant to be. “Shit, your arms are unbelievable.” “Thanks Will. It was arms day and I just finished an intense workout. Hey, why don’t you come in for a second? I need to turn off something on the stove and let’s get this cake to the kitchen.” As he said this, Mr. Ross bent over to scoop up the cake. This gave me a chance to view his back and my eyes instantly ached from trying to bug out of my head. His v-shape was insane and the muscles in his upper back, clearly visible through the shirt, were as huge as the rest of him. He stood back up and saw the shocked look on my face - and the fact that my mouth had dropped wide open. He reached out with his right forefinger and pushed my chin upward; closing my mouth. “And maybe a glass of water for you would be a good idea. Follow me.” When Mr. Ross turned around I let out a little squeal of delight. The man’s ass was mind-blowing. It was obviously extremely muscled and jutted out perfectly - as if he was slowly turning into a centaur and this was the beginning of his massive horse-butt. The old line “you could have rested a tray of drinks there” came to mind. I swear the guy had an ass-shelf beyond anything I had ever seen. I immediately longed to force my face between those mountains of muscle and let my tongue explore his daddy hole. As soon as I cried out the guy squeezed his ass cheeks together and those incredible dimples that appear on the behinds of bodybuilders became visible even through his dark cotton gym shorts. It was obvious that Mr. Ross was showing off for me. This made my cock shoot to full hardness; having begun to immediately become rigid earlier when he had opened the door. As I walked with him to the kitchen I was immediately taken aback by the improvements that had been done to the house. It had been a basic suburban home for years – two stories with a basement and nothing to get excited about. Mr. Ross had re-done the entire place, opening the kitchen into a large great room and putting large movable sliding glass walls along the back. You could basically walk out onto a beautiful deck from the living space and then down a few steps to a new large pool. The guy had probably increased the already insane price of the big home by two hundred thousand - at least. As much as my realtor mind wanted to focus on the house, my lustful mind wanted to only focus on the older man’s body. I followed him into the large kitchen area and stopped by the big island in the middle of the room as he turned off a boiling pot at the stove. “I needed a little protein so I was boiling some eggs. After an intense workout like today I usually have to eat about a dozen or so hard-boiled eggs just to satisfy this big body.” Listening to Mr. Ross speak about downing twelve eggs as a little snack and hearing how easily he now referred to his big body turned me on in a way that was completely new. There was something erotic about the fact that this once mousey little man was now a powerhouse of muscle and cockiness. His swagger even seemed somehow muscled – or, more appropriately, super-powerful. I also got the sense that Mr. Ross really liked how I responded to his new body. I think he loved the idea of making me weak at the knees just from standing near me. I watched him as he cooled and then ate fourteen eggs in quick succession. He downed a gallon jug full of some putrid-green juice and then belched loudly. His actions were so out of character for the man I had known all those years ago, but they seemed so natural for the muscled god standing in front of me. I was mesmerized by the huge older man. “Thanks Will. I needed to balance out my insides as quickly as I could. You wouldn’t like to see me with low-blood sugar. I become a little aggressive and there’s no telling what I might do. Can I offer you anything? You want a beer?” “Wow! Those are words I never thought I’d be hearing from you – and not only because you used to be my teacher. It’s mainly because I would have never taken you as a beer drinker. I’m beginning to think my high school image of you was not very fair.” “No, no, you were right to think of me differently back then. I was completely the opposite of what I am now, wasn’t I? I can handle the truth, don’t worry.” “Well, yeah . . . I mean, yes, you were. You were kind of a geek, Mr. Ross and now you’re . . . well, I mean, you are . . . it’s just that you kind of changed. Now, you’re more of a huge muscle daddy.” “See, that wasn’t too hard now, was it Will. And thanks, by the way. I like the fact that people can notice the change in me.” “How could they not? You’re about three times the size of your former self – maybe even five times!” “Well yes, yes I am. But I meant more the changes that have happened inside of me. I feel a little more, I don’t know, I feel more confident now. I don’t mean that in a bad way – I just mean that I actually feel . . . um, cocky, you know. I’m not a meek little fellow anymore. It’s kind of hard to explain completely, but as my body began to get bigger I started to look at things differently.” “Like how?” “I don’t know . . . let’s see . . . well here’s an example. At the high school I wasn’t given much respect by the other teachers – especially the guys that taught and coached sports. Those guys even kind of picked on me. That doesn’t happen a lot now . . . well the truth is that it doesn’t happen at all now. As a matter of fact the coaching staff of the football team continues to ask me to be the strength coach for the guys. I keep saying no because that’s not really what I want to do. I know it sounds selfish, but I really just love getting bigger myself – I don’t really want to help others do it.” “You mean you want to get bigger than you are now?” “Sure do. You might say I’m addicted to muscle now. I love the way it feels to look in the mirror and see that a part of you has grown. My arms are about twenty-eight inches now and I want them to zoom past thirty this year.” “Fuck, no way!” “William, let’s try saying that a different way.” “Um, I’m sorry. I guess what I was trying to say is that I am truly in awe of the size of your arms and the fact that you want them to be bigger is such a powerful turn-on for me that I’m afraid I will soon ejaculate in my pants.” My face turned red as soon as I finished the last sentence. Mr. Ross had insisted that I articulate my feelings a little more specifically and I didn’t hesitate to speak the truth. This muscled man was my wet-dream come true and I wanted to make sure he completely understood what was going on inside of me. I just stood there staring at his face – knowing that if I even glanced at his arms I would shoot a load of my juice immediately. “Well that was definitely a little more descriptive don’t you think? I’m sorry that I’m having such a frustrating effect on you.” “I’m not.” “Well I guess I’m really not, as well.” This sentence confirmed what I already knew. Not only was Mr. Ross getting off on the fact that he excited me so much – he was actually doing it on purpose. Mr. Ross was affirming what I already knew – he was as gay as me. This revelation sent shivers down my spine and a big smile blossomed across my face. The big man began to smile, as well, and damn if he didn’t wink at me. I was immediately thrown into a world of chaos – the best built man I had ever seen in my entire life was blatantly flirting with me. The muscle daddy of all daddies was standing in front of me and giving off enough heat to cause a nuclear meltdown. I suddenly felt like a stupid freshman again. I didn’t know what to do. I had picked up enough guys at bars throughout my adult life to qualify as a massive tease – but at that moment I couldn’t even move. I was thrust from the pro-active seat into a mere reactionary mode. I was waiting for my elder to take the lead. It was obvious that Mr. Ross understood all that was happening within me. He was clearly toying with me, the bastard. He stood there – in all of his muscled glory – just taunting me and causing my dick to ache for him even more. The man knew that taking his time would send me even closer to the edge of losing control – both of my cock and my mind. “So how about a beer?” “Yes . . . please.” I could only whisper my response. Mr. Ross stepped to the fridge and took out a beer. He opened it and took a big swig. He then moved in front of me and placed one of his big hands around the back of my neck. I glanced at the massive arm that hung in the air to the right of my face. My old teacher then brought the bottle up to my lips. I opened my mouth so the top of the bottle could be placed just beyond my teeth. I closed my lips around the bottle and Mr. Ross raised it slightly – allowing a swallow of the cold alcohol to be released into my mouth. I swallowed quickly and allowed another large gulp to fill my mouth. Mr. Ross pulled the bottle from me as I swallowed again and filled his mouth with more beer. Before he swallowed, though, he brought his face to mine and pressed our mouths together. He forced my lips and teeth apart with his tongue as the warm beer flooded into my mouth – now seemingly sweetened a little by his own saliva. As we kissed hard, beer shot back and forth to both of our mouths, symbolizing the connection we had now made. The muscled man then pulled his face from mine and easily guzzled down the rest of the beer with one long manly swallow. He placed it on the counter and then grabbed my hips with his huge hands. He effortlessly lifted my body upward and then set me down on top of the island in front of him. He forced my legs apart with his hands and then pressed his body into my crotch; grabbing my ass with his hands to pull me into him tightly. My rock-like cock immediately met the hardness of his stomach. “Your mom had told me you were gay. I found the news very exciting. Especially since you’re now thirty.” “And you’re forty-five.” “Forty-seven, actually.” “Um, even older. Nice.” “So, you like older men, do you, Will?” “Well, I actually like massively muscled older men!” “I think I might somewhat fit that description.” “I think you actually surpass my ideal. I need to set new standards but it sounds like you’ll be blowing past them soon, as well.” “Little Will likes the idea of me getting bigger, doesn’t he?” There was something about Mr. Ross calling me little that made my body crave him even more. I loved his dominant attitude and suddenly wanted nothing more than to please this big man – to please him in every way possible. Memories of childhood crushes on older guys came flooding back into my brain – camp counselors, my childhood bus driver, my doctor, and so many others. I had never dreamed that I could fall in lust for a guy so quickly. I was typically the object of all the attention and I liked it that way, but, suddenly, I cared about nothing other than getting the affirmation of the big man holding me. I knew that just one approving glance or simple words of encouragement from this mountain of muscle was enough to make me happy for a long, long time. Added to these thoughts was the promise of Mr. Ross getting bigger and that sent me over the edge. I was ready to give up anything to be part of his quest for becoming even more monstrous. I could not even begin to fathom how he would excite me when he was larger. “Yes sir. I like thinking about you getting bigger.” “Your mother has actually been talking about you non-stop for about eleven months now. I think she was trying to see if I might be interested in meeting you again – as an adult.” “What? You mean like wanting to set us up?” “Yes.” Mr. Ross was now rubbing his granite abs up and down my hard shaft – which was sticking straight up and pressing against my slacks. The big man had his huge palms pressed against my ass cheeks and was pulling my body into his mercilessly. I had my hands to my sides and was forcing myself not to reach out and grab his meaty pecs. I knew it would send my cock beyond the point of no return and I was not yet ready to spew my seed. I wanted to cherish the feeling of this muscled god as long as I could. The thought of dating Mr. Ross, well actually the thought of having sex with him, was overwhelming and caused me to disappear into my thoughts for a few minutes. I also loved the expert stroking job his stomach was doing on my dick. “And what are your thoughts on the subject now that you have seen me after all these years? I’m not your young student anymore.” “No, you’re not. But I still think there are a few things I could share with you. I can play the part of your teacher – or better yet, the bigger man – and lead you in certain lessons and tests.” “Um, I like the sound of that. I hope there’s going to be a lot of homework involved in these lessons. I can see myself having to come over here for a lot of one-on-one tutoring. What do you think of that?” Mr. Ross stopped the up and down movement of his abs against my cock. He slid his hands down under my thighs and lifted my legs around his mid-section. I caught on immediately to what he expected and I wrapped my legs around his waist; noticing that he was so thick that I couldn’t actually bring my ankles together at his back – my legs just weren’t long enough. Mr. Ross slid his hands back under my ass and pressed me against his body; lifting me off of the counter. Suddenly, my smaller chest was pressed up against his mega pecs and the feeling was incredible. I draped my arms across his shoulders and intertwined my hands behind his neck. The big man just stood there for a few minutes – easily holding my body in the air, pressed against his own larger and harder frame. I was leaning back a little so I could see his face and he was looking up at me. “You’re as light as a feather, Mr. Will. How does that make you fee?” “Secure.” “And that’s a nice feeling, right?” “It’s sublime.” “Where shall I take you next, sir?” “I think a very good place to start would be the bedroom, don’t you?” “My thoughts exactly.” Mr. Ross started walking toward a hallway off of the big living space connected to the kitchen. He carried me as easily as he would a small stack of folded laundry. As we moved down the hall I glanced at a guest room, an office, and a large room that had been converted into a home gym. The big man carried me through double doors into a beautiful giant master bedroom with a huge king-size bed in the middle. The room was stunning – sparsely decorated and extremely masculine looking. There was a giant fireplace near the bed, a couple of large wooden chairs and an oversized chest at the end of the bed. The muscleman carrying me walked to the chest. He grabbed my hips again and lifted me up so I could stand on the chest in front of him. This brought my crotch just below his face. He let go of my sides and reached out to undo my belt and the button on my slacks. He then unzipped the pants and let them fall to my ankles. Mr. Ross placed his hands back at my hips, moved his face to my briefs and ran his lips up and down the clearly outlined fabric-covered rock-hard pole. I moaned out loud and my legs went weak. I would have certainly crumbled into a pile of limp flesh and bones if the big arms of Mr. Ross had not kept my body upright. My high school teacher now wet-dream-come-true grabbed the front of my underwear with his teeth and moved his right hand to above my ass in the back. He swiftly pulled down my briefs and before I knew what was happening my cock was completely enveloped by his warm wet mouth. I could feel my dickhead pressing into the tight entrance of his throat cavity. Mr. Ross then began to press his face into my crotch, causing the tip of my dick to move further down the chute at the back of his mouth. With speed that seemed inhuman he began to move his head back and forth, quickly bringing my cum-filled cock to climax. I released my aching load into his waiting throat as my body shook violently and I cried out as if I were being in pain. I emptied what seemed like a bucket-load of juice into Mr. Ross’s mouth and he kept moaning in pleasure as he swallowed my sweetness. The incredible feeling that swept over my body was only matched by sounds the muscle man was making beneath me. I could tell that he had wanted my cum as much as I had wanted to release it. I was instantly sorry, though, that I had not been able to delay my own gratification. I had intended on pleasing him a lot longer. I immediately sensed that Mr. Ross picked up on my disappointment. He pulled his head back and my still-hard cock slapped up against my stomach when it popped form his mouth. He looked up at me – still using his powerful arms to help me stand erect. “Don’t worry, little Will. I wanted to get you off quickly. I knew this cock of yours was ready to shoot. I could see that you found it difficult to be around this much muscle without exploding, didn’t you?” “Yes sir.” “That’s okay. Don’t feel bad. I wanted to satisfy you fast so I could move on to worshipping your beautiful body. Let’s take that shirt off, okay? And these pants, too.” I pushed off my shoes one at a time and then stepped out of the pants that were down around my ankles. I unbuttoned my shirt at the same time and let it slide off my upper body onto the bed. Mr. Ross let out a whistle that showed his delight when he glanced my nude body. He could tell that I was now able to stand on my own and he released my hips from his powerful grasp. He ran his hands up and down my stomach and chest. “Just look at that beautiful body. And look how tiny you are compared to me, Mr. Will. You’re just so small. I’m sorry. I guess I got carried away. That was rude of me. I’m sorry I said that.” “I’m not. Really. Not only is it true, but I really like hearing you talk that way. It turns me on.” My still rock-hard cock twitched a little as if it were agreeing with what my mouth was saying. Mr. Ross looked into my eyes and I could see that the truth of my statement registered with him. He seemed to suddenly understand me in a new way and this made him smile. He continued to run his hands across my upper torso, but I noticed there was a difference in his thoughts and attitude now. I had given him the freedom to be his true self. We had crossed some unknown line in our new relationship. “I’m so much bigger than you, Will. You feel so small next to me – even when you are standing on this chest and are now taller than me. Look at this; it’s such a fucking turn-on. My arm is much bigger than your leg!” We both looked down as he brought his right upper arm near my thigh. I gasped out loud when I saw what he was boasting about. The huge biceps and triceps of his arm dwarfed my leg by two or three times. Upon closer inspection I could clearly see that his muscled arm was bigger than both of my legs put together. Mr. Ross put his arm in front of the middle of my two legs and we both saw that it bulged out beyond both sides of my combined thighs. This excited the big man in a way that made my juices run wild. I could see that he absolutely loved his own massive body – especially when he could compare it to someone inferior. “Shit, my arm is huge.” “I’m sorry sir, I think you’ll need to articulate that thought in a less barbaric and more accurate manner, if you don’t mind.” Mr. Ross looked up at me and he was smiling broadly. He had been caught in the same mistake that he had corrected in me since I got there.

Had to make sure I found this part. For some reason, a lot of members liked this part. Can't remember why but I hope you like it for the same reason and tell me about it. Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1556-my-dad-is-a-big-boy-re-post/ Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1560-my-dads-boy-is-a-big-boy/ Part 4: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1595-my-dad-is-a-secret-holder/ Part 5: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1596-my-dad-is-a-cum-fountain/ Part 6: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1606-my-dad-is-a-room-wrecker/ Part 3 The sky was dark yet the moon pushed through it to illuminate the junkyard's assorted weights and vehicles. Deep groaning could be heard in the center as two human bodies pounded were fixed in the center of it all, one atop the other with their skin rubbing together in their naked forms. I was surrounded with muscle as what could have only been described as a muscular beast surrounded me and filled me with his passion and giving me pleasure with his lips as a medium. Every part of my body burned like a seductive flame as I felt his skin touch different points of my body and leave me quivering under his embrace. My cock was as solid as stone as I felt my body close in on yet another climax. My abs were matted with my cum, the hair wet and glistening. The man above me was a perfect symbol of masculinity that I couldn't refuse as his large, square jaw pressed into my face and graced me with yet another touch from his furry face and warm, full lips. I had trouble opening my eyes as the beast's actions left my eyes blurry. I could almost see through the darkness of the hovering moons shadow as I tried to form a face with the hidden lines of the dark. The man stood to his full height slowly, our difference in perspective growing farther and farther apart as he began to tower above me like a sky scraper. For an instant, I thought I'd made out the face of the sex beast, his dark hair glistening and his body sweating from his intense work. Suddenly, the moonlight grew brighter and brighter until I couldn't see anything; the vision of magnificence before me becoming pure white light. Suddenly the light of the room changed and became morning light that shined in through my window. I'd woken up to bright morning light. My arms were tensed as they had a tightened grasp on a thick pillow beneath me that seemed wet with what could only have been saliva. I sat up in an enormous bed and was greeted to the view of what I remembered my brother had told me was my room, the different kinds of furniture greeting me as I arose. I turned to the window and saw that a tea set had been put on my night table, a tea cup of cold drink beside it. I yawned as I felt myself waking up and scratched my chest before I fully absorbed the surroundings closer to me. My sheets were wet with something that felt cold and drying. I blushed as I realized it was coming from me and I threw the sheets aside to see my naked 230 pound body, covered with nothing but my dark body hair. I felt my embarassment start to fill me and I put my head in my hands. The full gravity of my dream and what soaked the bed weighed me down. I'd had many sexual dreams before, ones that left my bed soaked just like the bed I was currently in, but never had it been for a man. I shook off these thoughts to try and pretend they didn't happen, throwing my legs out of the bed far enough for my feet to touch the cold wooden ground and scratching my balls. My size 12 feet were a bit wobbly but I was able to collect enough strength in them to stand. I looked quickly for my bag but couldn't see it. All that had been left for me was a large tee shirt and a shorts that looked like they were made with multiple X's on the tags. I put them on and felt the clothes drape over me like a blanket. It had been so long since I'd felt so small in a pair of clothes but, with so few options, I took what I was given. I left the room and was greeted to the smell of strong man-sweat and the sight of assorted, torn clothes. That's when I'd fully remembered what I'd experienced yesterday. My big little brother and my even bigger dad; both hulking men that could have scared away an NFL player of any size. I pushed myself through the assorted clothes of many sizes and smells before I made to the other end, short of breath. When I reached the center of the house, the true size of it's expanse astounded me. The stairs I'd walked up to yesterday to reach my brother's many rooms branched out in two opposite directions, one going to my brother's rooms to the left that I'd gotten accustomed to and the other going into what led appeared to be a large steel door. Had that been there before? I stopped my interrogation on my own memory as I thought I'd heard something clank in the distance. I followed the sound with my ear, going down the steps to the main floor. The objects inside the many rooms I passed seemed to have the usual items and home accessories but some seemed to vary in size greatly by one another. This didn't phase me since I'd been raised in a house where my dad could tear apart the most durable furniture with his big, hulking muscles. Dad used to always try to point out how sorry he was when he'd come into our little room and try to play with us, accidentally crushing or breaking our toys with power. A sad face would cross him and, me and my brother having so much love for our big ol' dad, would hug him and say it was all OK. We were always really close when no one was there to give us a reason to be embarrassed. My journey to the center of the clanking sound led me to a darkened square pathway that aimed down a path of stone steps. I creeped down them and became more cautious as the sound grew louder. Posters of muscular icons to muscle were posted along the the walls the way a fan girl would decorate her room with boy bands. The big difference, however, was that each one was had a large x put across it as if to symbolize something. The wide path of stairs finally ended after what seemed like an endless trip to a loud hell. The clanking had become an uproar that rang in my ears as something moved them quickly in a repetitive motion. A massive glass door led into what looked like an enormous weight room, hundreds of big and heavy looking weights that even I, being a linebacker myself, could lift. I stood near the edge of the glass door to try and peek inside without being seen and I was speechless at the spectacle before me. Someone big with a wide back was set on a weight bench that looked to be bending from the weight it was holding. The beast above it seemed to be perfectly balanced on it, the small of his back being the center to hold him in place. The giant's arms moved up and down like a machine as it lifted a bar that also was bending from the long set of weights that stretched in both directions. The bar itself appeared be to be as long as a pole used in the Olympics. My mouth dropped open at the sight of so much weight. There was no doubt in my mind that the weights were equivalent to an entire standard weight rack. When I could pull my vision from that, I looked to see an enormous chest hiding its owner's head. The two bulging masses bulged with every movement and seemed to be pumped to the max, stretching the bare skin of the enormous chest muscle. A pillow couldn't compare to the size and hardness of the big chest. A pair of lats that looked like the wings of a large creature hid the seat of the bench and had made a large and comfortable seat for a tight but large set of 8 abs. Each individual ab shined like a bar of soap but looked harder than the cobblestones they mimicked. I felt sweat begin to perspire on me as I smelled the strong smell of man escape the cracks of the glass door. of course, I can't honestly remember if the sweat was from my body reacting to so much testosterone in the air or the pair of shorts that the giant was wearing as he lifted the weight for countless reps. A tight, bright green pair of shorts were stretched to the point of looking like a second skin across the monster's pelvis. The legs of the shorts couldn't reach to his thighs so his all the extra fabric attempted to try and contain a massive bulge that looked like multiple pillows stuffed into the crotch area. The beast's glutes were tight against the back of the shorts as they seemed to try and hold the opposite side of the fabric together with their hardness. I tried to look away and pull myself back together but I couldn't as I watched the beast move the weight, along with his body. I felt my cock jump every time I watched one veiny, full arm bulge as they came down and then surge bigger as they push up. After what seemed like an endless set of reps, the giant racked the massive weight, the metal groaning from the pressure. When the giant sat up, I felt my cock fire down my pant leg as I saw my brother's face over the valley of pectoral muscles. I knew my brother had good looks that we'd inherited from our father but, seeing him in almost all his glory, buffed up to maximum proportion with his muscles full with countless amounts of blood, I felt my body convulse as I tried to fight a standing orgasm. My mouth was open as I tried to hold myself back but couldn't accidently falling against the door and making a tiny thumping noise. I quickly rolled out of the glass door's view as I tried to stand myself up and look back inside. It didn't seem that I'd been spotted or noticed and I was glad I wasn't as I watched my hulk of a brother stand up, his head closing in on the gym's lights. My mouth fell open at such enormity as he seemed to be in an a trance, his blue eyes seeming to send his dominance into anyone who saw them, his brow sweating from his workout. He raised a beastly arm and a forest of armpit hair revealed itself, seeming to follow suit with everything else on Jeff's hairy upper body. Of course, his lower half wasn't too far behind as it looked like he'd just left a leg workout before I'd came down. Each leg was bulging like its own pillar, the muscles distinctly revealing their three heads and bulging with angry veins that went up and down from his thick, protruding calf to the revealing green shorts that were loosing the battle against so much size. My giant brother leaned his large head over to his raised, sweat covered arm and licked it as though it were the most tasty lollipop you'd ever seen. He flexed the muscle under his tongue and the unbelievable limb only swelled bigger, reaching to almost 1.5 times its original size. Only one limb was meant to be flexed but so much power and muscularity was clearly not enough for his arm as the veins pumped blood into his massive shoulder, which tried to block his head's path to his bicep, and caused his left pec to bulge along with it. Suddenly, Jeff seemed to go into a muscle frenzy as he raised both arms and flexed his entire upper body, all the muscles converging to for a garden of muscle on top of one torso. His hairy abs cringed as he tried to flex both his arms and his abs, the muscled steps forming a symmetrically perfect eight pack that must have been stronger and harder than steel. Though I was still marveling at my monstrous brother, I was interrupted by a loud snapping noise. I looked lower to the source and thought I'd have a nose bleed. Jeff's cock was moving like an angry stallion, its confines trying their best to contain its fury and failing against the supposedly extra stretch fabric. A tears began to form along the hips of the shorts as the endowment beneath jumped and moved with excitement. Suddenly the bulge stood still before it jumped again, looking several inches bigger than before. This motion followed an identical one as it seemed the beast was beginning to awaken and wanted out. NOW. An enormous pillar began to form in the giant's pants as he got off on his muscle, his attention appearing to be on his pecs as he performed a non-stop pec bounce that seemed to pull me in like a horse being caught by a lasso. The enormous pillar looked to have no end to its growth as it quickly started to look bigger than my sizable biceps (which were a mere 17 inches). The beast was awake and, judging by Jeff's expression on his handsome face, would not go back to sleep without some serious attention. I'd seen my brother naked before when we both joined the local gym 3 years ago. Never had I seen such a monster tucked under that green rag of a pair of shorts before. It was unthinkable something could be so huge but Jeff's big friend proved me wrong as it surged a good deal thicker and longer. With a loud RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPP, the shorts lied on the ground defeated, a giant weapon of mass destruction appearing in its wake. " Fuck. Third pair this week " Jeff said with his powerful voice, the testosterone coming from him too much to be contained by a simple glass door and pulling at my cock. My conscious was trying to awaken itself as well in reaction to seeing my brother naked and bigger than ever. How could I look at my little brother this way? My answer came as Jeff's giant cock attempted to change from horizontal to vertical, punching his stomach as if to tell me that this alpha man here was not "little" in anyway. I could see Jeff look down and smile at his passenger and wrapped his hand around it with his big paws, their expanse still only enough to reach less than halfway around the shaft. " Shit" he groaned as he moved his grip up and down the log-cock, his beautiful blue eyes closing and his breathing becoming heavier, his deep voice and strong lungs creating a sound that reminded me of a large truck starting up. I felt my hand take control as it too wrapped around my much smaller 8 inch cock, my breathing matching my brother's as we pleasured ourselves together but apart. I could feel myself close in on climax, which was amazing since I'd already fired a heavy load into my white shorts already. My body showed through my shirt as the big clothing began to become wet with my sweat. This moment was the greatest of my life; greater than any of my times with the big chested girls I always hung around in college. I couldn't control myself as my cock fired yet again into my pants with a healthy amount of cum that collected with the already cold and drying batch in my pants. Fully spent, I still kept my eyes on my brother as he seemed to have the most amazing sex drive, having not cum at all and still holding up for so many minutes. Suddenly, my brother roared with the voice of a beast and pointed his cock at the walls. Like a fire hose, the giant weapon fired an explosive and endless ray of cum at the closest wall, splattering with a heavy pounding that sounded almost exactly like a true fire hose. With increasing power, the giant fired cum at the wall that bounced back and hit everything; weights, the floors, Jeff's body. The room's yellow painted walls quickly were being over taken by the new flush of pure white. Jeff quickly twisted his body and began to fire at every wall, the room quickly getting painted down with its new coat of "paint". I jumped back as my beast of a brother pulled the force of his attack in my direction, a blast of cum hitting the glass door in front of me. I quickly fell on my ass as the glass was covered in an array of endless white that cracked the glass. I was reminded of the moment in your car when your sitting in a car wash and they drop a tub of soap over the front wind shield so you pretty much can't see anything except continuous cascading waves of soap and water. My eyes widened as the glass quickly began to crumble at such force and began to leak through. I ran back around the corner of the steps to watch as the glass shattered and the powerful gun fire (or maybe cock fire) left the gym and fell on the floor outside. I felt as if I was merely watching fiction but I knew that this assault was real. Finally, the blast fell with the force of gravity as it weakened and then finally went back into the gym, its source clearly done with its fury. I was shocked into being still on the stares as I tried to absorb what I just saw but got no time to relax as I heard thumping and splashing that sounded like heavy feet trying to leave the room through the big white mess. I ran like a cheetah up the stairs and turned the never ending corners, running up the stairs, past the torn clothes on the floor, dived into my room and closed the door behind me, hoping my escape had gone unnoticed. I took a deep breath and jumped back into the bed on the opposite side of the room, my eyes wide as I tried to go over everything that had happened in the last hour in my mind. I heard thumping that had to be Jeff and quickly closed my eyes in an attempt to hide my consciousness from him and mask the fact I'd just seen my little brother destroy an entire room with only the jizz from his leviathan of a cock. Suddenly, the door slammed open and in came my brother, ducking his head through the door and maneuvering through it with difficulty thanks to his big, pumped muscles. He'd put on a black tank top and some tight looking that khaki shorts that were failing to hide his big man weapon. " YOU HUNGRY BRO?! I'M STARVED!" he roared with a big, happy voice that I swear could cause an avalanche on any kind of snow covered mountain. I sat up and looked quickly to his stomach as it roared in protest to its starvation. Who could possibly feed so much man in one morning?!

As my eyes blinked open, I awoke to a vise-like clamp on my ankles. I could only turn over part of the way, but I did look down to see Colin standing at the foot of the bed, smiling at me, as he held my ankles in place. I struggled for a few seconds, to no avail, and then just said "Colin what are you doing?" "Time to get up Greg. I'm back from a seven mile run, I am making us some breakfast, and then we can go lift." He released his grip on me very casually, and walked towards the door. "Colin, seven miles, already? You are doing way too much cardio, you won't gain any muscle like that." I was standing next to my bed now, in my briefs. He didn't say anything, just looked me over closely, almost as if he was studying me. I did manage to add some muscle since we started working out together, and I glanced at myself in the mirror. I was pleased to see some more mass in my chest and shoulders. "Greg, what just happened there," he pointed to the bed, referring to the grip he had on my ankles, "do you think that is someone who isn't gaining muscle?" I looked at him, still in that hoodie, but this time, he had the sleeves pushed up. And I got a good look at his forearms. They were quite a bit thicker compared to when we started working out. Instinctively, I looked at mine in comparison, and then back at Colin's. He noticed me making the comparison, and lifted his flexed forearm so I could really appreciate it. And damn I have to admit, they were just as big as mine. Thick and defined, like interlaced steel cables. "Your training plan is really starting to work Greg. Can't you tell now?" "Okay Colin, you have a point. I will be down to breakfast in a few minutes." He turned to walk out, and I swear, he had to tilt his shoulders to pass through the frame. I got dressed and went down to the kitchen, where Colin was preparing us spinach omelets with steaks. I watched as he inhaled his food, chatting amiably with me about the day's planned workout. He seemed much more energized, and eager to get to the gym today. We cleaned up from breakfast and headed to the front door. Colin stood in the alcove, grabbed my car keys and said, "Hey Greg, can I drive today?" I walked over to him, bumped the palm of my hand on the bottom of his fist. I could feel the heaviness of his arm, and I did notice how it barely moved, but I was able to make his hand yield the keys. "Not today Colin, not my car. I'm still the driver around here." Colin laughed, and started to walk through the door, then hesitated. He turned towards me, with a calm, determined look on his face. "Let's try that again Greg." "Colin, what are you talking about?" I had the car keys in my hand and wrapped my fist around them tightly. By now, I was standing right next to him, trying to pass through the door. "I want to drive Greg." "Colin, I told you already, no." He wasn't letting me pass through the door. Instead, he reached his hand down toward mine. I felt his hand encircle my wrist, as he looked at me nonchalantly. I refused to just give up the keys to him, and tightened my whole arm. I was proud of my baseball player's beefy forearms, that led to a solid, nearly 17 inch bicep, and was sure I could keep the keys in my possession. And for the first few seconds, I did. I was confident this foolish standoff would end very soon, and I made a promise to myself not to embarrass Colin when he gave up. Then something changed, very subtly. I noticed Colin's forearm tighten up too. Then my arm started to move up, at Colin's will. I tried mightily to resist, and it seemed as if Colin wasn't even exerting himself. My arm was now parallel to the floor, with Colin gripping my wrist, the keys still in my tightly coiled fist. Okay, I conceded, maybe he was strong now..even..stronger.. but I was not giving up those keys yet. Then his grip on my wrist slowly started to tighten, like a cobra, exerting immense pressure on me. My arm started to shake, and my fist opened up, revealing the keys. Colin took the keys from me, and smiled. "Hey thanks Greg, for letting me drive today" he said, laughing. He turned and headed towards the car, and my head was reeling with what had just happened. The weight training plan was working.

The Culling Part 9 In the mansion balanced on fountains of water, there was an enormous whale watching the guests at the party. The whale was in a tank that was hundreds of times bigger than the whole ballroom that the party was being held in. Two whole walls of the ballroom made of a crystal clear substance that were also part of the walls of the tank. The tank was large enough for the whale to swim comfortably in but it frequently swam to the bottom to peer at the small humans having the party. The dance floor of the ballroom was also clear and we could look down at the sparkling, dancing waters of the fountain that supported the huge mansion. The fountains were constantly changing patterns but the mansion resting on the tops of them was rock solid never betraying it's shifting foundations. The setting of the summer sun made the whole ballroom shine orange through the gauzy curtains that lined the enormous windows. Scott, one of the hosts of the party, was talking to me. He had light brown, thinning hair, lovely brown eyes with long lashes. He had a cool smile that rarely went to his eyes unless he was looking at his partner Seamus. Scott's big arms, strained the sleeves of his tight, black button down shirt that was tight enough I could see the fabric stretch every time he took a breath. "It was kind of like a pet that kept following Seamus home," he said looking up at the whale as it's enormous bulk moved past the wall. "Seamus would walk along the beach and find this whale beached there. Of course, the first time he tossed it out to sea a few miles, the way anyone would. But when it happened two more times he started to get attached." Seamus stood up on a platform directly behind Scott, openly ogling me. He was wearing no shirt just a leather vest, a leather kilt and heavy boots. His hair was bright orange and his skin very pale and hairless. His exposed arms looked to be about 40 incredibly rugged unflexed inches, impossibly enormous for a normal man but Seamus was one of the younger, smaller men at this party for the brotherhood. He was doing a kind if stomping dance to the thumping rhythm of the music in the room. He ran one of his veined, meaty hands across the muscular brickwork of his stomach and licked his lips looking at me. I felt a tremor of...something...all my boyhood I had known that desiring men meant death for me and here I was looking at this spectacular man openly lusting after me. It felt good. Scott turned briefly glancing at Seamus' display and smiled affectionately, "I can't deny Seamus anything so when I was designing the house I incorporated the tank for his friend." "It's pretty amazing," I said looking up at the vast tank although I was both complimenting the tank and commenting on Seamus' crude behavior. I took in the spectacle of the ballroom. Michael was right about getting out to events, I felt more of a connection with my fellow brothers, our similar desires, our miraculous abilities. But I was still troubled by things. I looked up at Seamus who was joined by Scott on the platform. Seamus was grinding into Scott and seemed lost in his partner's massiveness. Seamus was famous for not controlling his urges. The previous year he had gotten in minor trouble for masturbating across the train tracks. The crime was not the masturbation itself, but the fact that as he was moving his gigantic cock back and forth across the tracks it had struck an oncoming train, crushing the engine and killing several of the non-brotherhood passengers. Almost none of the brotherhood were on the train (most of us prefer running which is much faster than any train can move) and of course we are, for all practical purposes, indestructible anyway. Since the 25 deaths were all breeders, Seamus had to do some community service. He was lucky no pre-ascension brothers were on that train which I believe was the main source of concern about the accident among the brotherhood. Most of the brotherhood ranged in height from the shortest 6'7" to about 7'9" which was the height of the tallest elder. Our huge muscularity actually made us look shorter until one of us stood next to a non-ascended person and then our immensity was grotesquely apparent. In the ballroom, I would say the average unflexed arm was about sixty inches in girth. Even among these impossibly massive men, Michael and I were intimidatingly immense. Michael's arms were almost eighty inches and mine the largest in the room by far, were eighty five inches of striated brawn, which was why we were invited and why everyone stared at us together. It was good our backs flared so wide as the width held the impossible size of our arms out away from our torsos. We were the biggest non-elder men anyone had ever seen. The smaller men moved aside in deference to our ponderous bulk. Being big, being monstrously, inconceivably powerful, being one of the Brotherhood, it changed my perspective. When a sneeze or a stray gesture can kill a small army of regular people, it changes something inside. Just walking and feeling the massive, hard mounds of muscle of my legs push against the thick swinging girth of my cock and the pendulous bulk of my testicles, I was not who I had been. These men around me were the only people who could stand up to my strength, the only people who could trade blows with me and maybe wound me. They understood the world in a way that only men like us can. Michael's seven feet of brutally huge mass suddenly filled the entirety of my vision. He gave me a quick hug. The roughness of his dark beard sent shivers through me. He stood next to me looking at the small waiters weaving through the crowded room, "They are called bodybuilders. They take weird substances and constantly lift things over and over again to make their muscles bigger. Scott thought they would be a great conversation piece at the party." His hand lightly massaged the top of my trapezius muscle and touched my lower back as I stiffened looking at the small men, shirtless and childlike next to the hulking mountains of muscularity of the Brotherhood. They navigated between the canyons of moving muscle with theIr trays. Their faces were rigid with concentration as if each step was a death defying act. Perspiration ran down their bodies despite the coolness of the room. Michael whispered in my ear, "They are being well paid for this work." "Some things are not worth any money," I grumbled, but held my peace. Jedrek burst through the crowd bigger than most of the other guests. He walked up to me and clasped me in a hearty hug, "Many good wishes, Gregor and Michael! I wish you joy." he stepped back staring at me in the eye and then he touched the center of my chest, "You have learned the sacredness of the Brotherhood. Of Love." Some part of me wanted to respond cynically but Michael was a continual joy in my life despite my other misgivings. I smiled and clasped his large shoulder with one hand, "Jedrek, I have not always been grateful to you. But today and now I am filled with thankfulness." He beamed at us both and shook Michael's hand, smiling broadly. "Gregor and Michael, I have new reason to be thankful myself. I have taken a husband as well. I would like to introduce you to Ryota, the man who finally captured my heart." A broad black haired man stepped up to me. The cast of his features reminded me of the men that Jedrek had killed in the forest. He was slightly shorter than Jedrek but just as hugely, thick. His clothes were a different style. An almost iridescent ivory material was worn loose and belted around his muscular waist. The material crossed across his wide upper torso exposing almost half his chest. I could see the rippling power of his hairless, pectoral muscles clearly as he moved his hand to clasp mine. He spoke with a deep, melodious voice, "Gregor and Michael, it is truly a pleasure. Jedrek speaks well of you. I come from Nihan just off the southern coast of your country." Ryota's smile vanished in a moment and he looked seriously at me. "Jedrek, has told me about your misgivings about this country. I need to tell you about my own shame." Jedrek nodded curtly as Ryota lead me away out the large glass doors to the balcony. The doors completely sealed the loudness of the party away from us, I could not even hear a distant thump of the music. Outside there was only the slightest of breezes and the soft sound of the fountain. The sun was setting and the air was charged with color. Ryota smiled a brief smile, his teeth flashing white against his tan skin and black goatee. "This is a hard story for me but I think it will help you to understand the value of the men of Taiga. The value of what they do here," he gestured with a forearm writhing with muscle towards the ballroom. He sighed deeply and continued, "My people practice the culling, I think we do it better than yours. The wise women were militant about stamping out the male threat. They keep track and search down every male child for the culling. "My brother and I were born on the same day. We both knew at an early age that we would be killed when we went to the culling. There were a network of caves in the mountains and places where only a young person could squeeze into. We found a place with a spring of water deep in those caves. No one knew of it. For months, we secreted supplies to that place. We laid false trails and sealed parts of paths off. We hid in those caves for a long time. We only had each other and one terrible night we gave into temptation and," he paused a pained expression on his face, "we ascended." I suddenly understood his shame, not only two men but brothers. "We thought we were cursed, that the grotesque size was our brand of shame. We blamed, hated each other. We tore the mountains apart, fighting. It was useless we were both too strong to be killed." "We ran away and both of us soon became powerful leaders and divided the country between us in a civil war. I was miserably lonely and occasionally took men as lovers. Thanks to the culling none of them desired me, they loved me only as their powerful leader. My desires killed them." He looked sad, "I became aware of a trader, bigger than a bear, who could easily fight off any who opposed him. My first thought was fear and I sent many men to their deaths trying to kill him. "Then I met this man, Jedrek. He wished to trade I wished to fight. We fought. We were matched in every way, not since my brother had a man moved as fast as me and struck blows that could stagger me. I felt myself drawn to his body, his red hair and beard and soon I was in his arms and making love with my equal and telling my story. "Gregor, this place is our best hope to live together in peace. It is a refuge from the evil that twists us from our birth. Jedrek tells me you hate it, accept it and your birthright, it is not evil. The evil is out there." Ryota's massive frame was lit by the lights of the ballroom. The air was blue and dark with shadows. Ryota's dark eyes bore into me, "It is a refuge from the blood that the brotherhood pays every day. That the rest of the world asks of us to pay for our power." That night in the safe warmth of my bed with Michael, I dreamed of my village of my childhood. It was the day of the culling and I was standing in the row of boys shivering in terror and guilt. Agnieska, the wise woman released the flower pollen in a fragrant cloud over the stinking crowd of us boys. Gratitude came on me as the pollen fell on me, hiding my shame from the world. I became aware of a clear space in the pollen cloud as if an invisible force was pushing it away. Guilt and terror made my heart hammer in my thin chest. I saw Ulric's stricken face as the pollen drifted on to the other boys away from him. The witch's knife flashing through the air. The ground shook and twisted and writhed and pierced poor Ulric's body as it deformed itself. The very earth shrieked with pain as it roiled around me and all was lifeless. I woke sweating. I knew what I needed to do. The Culling Part 10 I stood alone on the edge of the twisted plain of Eoghan and Fearghus' folly, known by the breeders as Durness' Folly. The breeders. I cursed the epithet, I was thinking with the same smugness I detested in the rest of the Brotherhood. I needed that arrogance though, so I allowed the smugness to creep over me at the various inadequacies, the fragility, the puniness of...breeders. The green mountains of Taiga lay at my back. Ahead, the vast and lifeless silences of the twisted landscape were broken only by my own footsteps. I pulled off the only clothing I was wearing, a breechcloth, the tearing of the cloth echoing from the giant misshapen rock formations in front of me, The sun stood high above me in the sky as I began to concentrate my power. I spat once into each of my hands. I glanced downwards as my big hands began to stroke the length of my manhood. The sunlight threw shadows on the deep, hairy striations of the enormous, jutting shelf of my chest which completely obstructed the view of my hands. I felt the hot, aliveness of my penis, so much a part of me and yet alien in its thick, vein covered enormity. I purposefully concentrated on my strength. How I dominated every man I came in contact with. I was bigger and stronger than any man I had physically encountered. If I glared people moved away. Mountains, continents were nothing to my massive body. One of my hands moved up stroking the powerful, stonelike cords of my obliques. I felt my testicles swell as hard as the fantastic peaks of my muscles. The shaft of my manhood grew rigid, harder than any metal I had forged. The expanding girth of my penis became difficult to grasp even with my big hands. Out past the roiling muscular vastness of my chest, the thickly veined protuberance of my cockhead became visible. The wide, swollen head of my phallus was red with built up pressure and glistening with precum dripping from the slit, it looked like a monstrous, savage weapon. I stroked harder feeling the pressure continue to build all while willing myself not to complete the orgasm. My cock seemed to swell even bigger. I could feel the need to release boiling throughout its massive length. Then I came. The explosion of ejaculate shot out of me and I roared shaking the massive formations in front of me. The liquid struck the hard rock shattering it into pieces of earth. I turned spraying all the formations in front of me. The thunderous report of stone being obliterated filled my ears. I strode forward on the now flattened land, my inexhaustible manhood blasting the formations as I swept it back and forth across the lifeless plain in front of me instantly pulverizing the twisted stone and churning the hard earth up. I do not know the length of time it took me to cross the plain but I only stopped when the last of the formations was exploded into nothingness by the force of my cum. I made my way naked back across the expanse of the plain. My legs sometimes sinking deep into the dark and muddy earth. Everywhere there was the smell of my seed mixed with the earth. The sun had just risen on what morning it was and how many days I had spent at my labor, I did not know. My shadow was the only shadow cast across the landscape. Reaching the middle of the plain I turned a full circle and saw nothing but dark muddy, flat earth where once there had been only twisted rock. I turned finally in the direction of my home. I tensed the gigantic muscles of my legs and sprang free from the clinging earth in a mighty leap that sent me flying into the sky, across the miles of the plain, higher than the soaring peaks of the Taiga Mountains. I called on my other powers to steer and slow my descent so I landed gently outside the home Michael and I shared. I was exhausted and staggered into Michael's arms as he lead me to a hot shower. I then fell into our bed and slept and slept. It was morning again and I awoke blinking in the light falling through our window. I nuzzled into the deep cavern under Michael's arm, enjoying his hairiness, the hardness of his muscle even as he slept and the musky clean scent of him. I made growling noises like a rutting animal and woke Michael who took my revived manhood easily. "You're stronger than mountains," I whispered as I came in him. "I know," he growled, tensing as he shot ropes of cum on the far wall of our bedroom. We spent a week doing the ordinary things in life, not speaking of what we had to do. I savored this time with Michael for we both knew this time in Taiga was to come to an end. On the seventh day after my return having finished our clean up of the evening meal, Michael came to me with two bundles of blue fabric. He shook out two cloaks of soft blue leather. Stitched across them in gold was a design of two magnificent trees, their trunks separate but their branches intertwined, grown together. "While you were completing your task, I made these for our next labor. If you pull them completely around and over yourself, they will let in no rain or weather and the colors and designs will fade into the landscape and you will not be seen. They will also make the rockiest ground comfortable to lie upon." "They are perfect," I smiled in gratitude. We packed supplies and shut the door of our home. We both wore our cloaks and light short tunics of muslin with loose leather breeches. Except for our richly appointed cloaks, we could be two very large peasants. The sun was high in the sky and in its light I could see the brilliance of the goldwork in Michael's cloak as it bunched and moved over the enormous muscular crags of his back. I felt my manhood stir at this display and I needed to focus on other matters. "Time to begin the invasion of our homeland, Mediolanum." Michael said with a bright smile and shot into the air. He was instantly a blue glittering dot on the horizon. I took one last look at this place that I had fought with and been changed by. I thought of Ryota's words, a refuge for men like us and I could feel some of the awesome beauty of it leak into my heart. "Goodbye," I whispered and leapt up into the air. Once again I was speeding over Durness' Folly, but I could traces of green like a mist running over the dark, fertile land. The curse was gone, the healing had begun. When Jedrek made his runs across Mediolanum he had purposefully avoided the soldiers because he wanted to avoid creating a situation. Michael and I were creating a situation and so we began with the border guard on the Eastern border of the land. Using some of my magics, I gentled my landing and barely disturbing the trunks of the trees in the copse I landed beside. I pulled my cloak around me, blending into the landscape and hunching down and looked at the scene playing out just a few feet away. Michael was surrounded by soldiers, his 7 feet easily overtopping the tallest man in the group. Michael's thick upper arms were easily wider than the shoulders of these armored men standing around him. His monstrous chest swelled menacingly forcing the men away from his body, a small bounce of that hulking superstructure and the crowd of men would be pounded into oblivion, armor and all. Michael was obviously moving very carefully to keep from hurting these men standing uneasily near him. "I wish to speak to your commanding officer," Michael was keeping his powerful, baritone voice gentle. "W-w-w-we are s-s-supposed t-to b-b-b-bind the prisoners up." One of the men barely stuttered out. Michael chuckled, the unexpected movement of his vast body caused two of the closest soldiers to break ranks and dash away in panic. "That is easily solved, for I am not your prisoner, I am your liberator. Walk with me as friends walk with friends." Something in the good natured warmth of Michael's voice caused the soldiers fear to melt away. They lowered their useless weapons, although the squad leader kept doggedly on, "We are loyal servants to the great King Whately and the high Wizards Garoth and Reb'kah. We gladly serve at his majesty's pleasure. We require no liberation." Michael smiled at the man, his beautiful blue eyes gentle, his dark hair lightly tossled by his flight. I felt so in love with this humble, strong but gentle man. "Then lead me as an emissary of a friendly nation, for at this moment that is what I am." I wanted to watch him win them over, but I had another part to play. After the men had walked away, I sang to the shadows and to the darkness so that magical eyes would not be able to spy on the proceedings. I conjured a blanket of shadow to cover the country obscuring our uprising from the high wizards and from any other magical sight not of the Brotherhood (this was for two reasons: we did not need to hide from the Brotherhood and the magic needed is infinitely more powerful). Reluctantly, I turned and leapt north towards the icy tower of Reb'kah, the Enchantress also known as the Deadly Terror to her enemies. Since she had sworn allegiance to the king the country had successfully captured much territory from her neighbors. She was deeply feared and hated. I landed half a mile from the tower, cracking the ground with my impact. The tower was made from a gray silver metal. It looked like something alien perched on a blasted plain. A green mist rose from the ground and I was immediately confronted by a thousand strong army of dead warriors. The smell of their rotting flesh filled the air. Their number stood between me and my goal. They unslung their weapons and marched towards me. Some of the weapons glowed with power and I recognized at least one of the blades from my studies. These were the men who had fallen against Reb'kah, whose souls and bodies were enslaved by her power. I put my hands on my hips and simply drew a deep breathe. All of the green mist was sucked into the almost limitless capacity of my lungs. I could see my chest expanding more in my lower vision. The warriors stumbled against the force of my intake. I put a small amount of effort into blowing out the air. It was like unleashing armageddon. A great tornado of wind poured from me smashing into the army with enough force to shred armor and disintegrate bones. The wind whipped bodies into nothingness and as the turbulence spread across the army of the dead, nothing but fragments of armor and weapons remained clanking across the hard ground. The tower was buffeted by the raging winds, it shook and bent in the maelstrom of my breathe, the whole structure teetered but held true as I stopped my exhale. It was suddenly silent and I was alone on the plain. "I'm not here to kill," I said into the absence of sound, "I need to be more careful." By the time, I finished speaking I was at the heavy metal doors at the base of the tower. The doors yawned at least 30 feet above me. I pushed my fingers into the thick metal and then simply pulled backwards, the doors popped off of the building, the torn metal shrieking. I tossed the doors behind me and heard the far off rumble as they embedded themselves into the distant mountains. I was inside. It was cold, far colder than the icy temperatures outside. There were stairs running up in a spiral up the sides of the tower. A high, piercing, wailing echoed from all sides as giant blades of ice fell from above. I sang out the opening note of the spell of sealing, simultaneously shattering the blades with the power of my voice and magically preventing the flight of my adversary. As I sang the last note, I leapt upwards effortlessly shattering stone and steel as I hurtled to the pinnacle, the room of power. I burst through the final floor of reinforced steel and wood with an explosion of debris. My invulnerable cloak was dusty but intact, my tunic shredded exposing most of my torso. The room was long. The floor was littered with the pots and tubes of alchemy. Runes were drawn with a sweeping hand on the floors and ceilings, they glowed a bright and angry red, meaning my magic had successfully been cast over the structure. Hanging in rows along the walls were the heads of men. Their mouths hanging open in a rictus of pain. At the far end of the room stood Reb'kah. Her hair was long and white almost silver and it spilled down almost to her sandaled feet. She was wearing a long white robe, which almost matched her delicately veined skin in paleness. Her face was a mask of hatred as she launched a knife of ice at me. The blade broke harmlessly on the hairy rampart of my chest. Instantly I was encased in an enormous block of ice. I felt a momentary panic, which instantly subsided as I took a breathe. The expansion of my chest shattered the block. I could move as if there was no impediment and the crumbled at the force of my limbs as I strode forward. Reb'kah hissed, "You are the absence of my power. You are the blanket of darkness that hides the rats of men from my gaze! You are.... What are you?" "I am of the men of Taiga, the brotherhood." "The stories are true then. Giant apes with the heavy, hideous features of men. You bring my end a rich irony, creature of Taiga." Her rage was pulsing through the room. Several of the heads on the wall burst like overripe fruit, but I was immune. "My life has been dedicated to the destruction of men. My first trophy was the head of the one who called himself my father. I only serve the king," her mouth twisted with even more bitterness, "to serve my own ends. Were it not for the wizard's tricks, I would rightfully be ruler of a land rid of free men." I tried to think of how Michael would diffuse such hatred but I only had the goal of my mission. "I am not here to end you, I am here to form an alliance---" I faltered, the idiotic futility of my words dying on my lips as I spoke into her hatred, "or neutralize you." She screeched and lightning whipped impotently around my body. All of the heads burst into flames and it seemed to me that I heard a low moan of pain or maybe release. There was no choice for me. I stared at her icy blue eyes and sang the song of closing. Lines of black power arced out of her body and a rancid smell filled the room. "You will lose all power and memory," I spoke softly as she slumped to the floor. She looked up with clouded, confused eyes. I touched her arm, as fragile as new ice in my large hand, and carefully helped her to stand, "I am sending you to a village of good people. They will shelter you until you are well." I whispered the final spell and she shimmered away to the villageas in. The tower was built for dark purposes and stank of evil. I did not wish such a thing to stand. I tore open a hole in the wall and leaped down the side of the structure. I looked up at the massive, metallic building looming hundreds of feet above me. I bent my knees spread my arms wide and gripped the building and stood up lifting it entirely out of the ground. The structure squealed as its weight redistributed in ways it was never built for. I was now holding the doomed tower with both hands spread wide. Then I gave the tower a hug. I pulled and squeezed the tower to my chest. I could feel my biceps harden to something harder than metal or any substance known. My arms worked with a steady, incredible pressure. I easily brought my hands compressing the materials of the tower to my chest which I could feel expanding with a powerful pump. The metal cried in agony as it was stressed in ways that nature couldn’t accomplish. I kept reaching out and gathering a huge mass of steel and compress it to my now heaving pecs. Then I reached and stretched my fingers, which would sink in and deform beams and bring them to me. I began gathering tons of steel faster and faster and driving the cold steel to my deep cleavage. My chest was swelling and bulging and compressing the very matter of the tower tighter and tighter. The metal was turning into hot liquid and then vaporizing in the terrible heat of my powerful muscles. I inhaled the steel steam and instead of tiring, I felt my power increase. My arms moved so fast, they were a blur. My chest muscles pumped like gigantic sledge hammers as they compressed the solid matter against my blurred hands. Within moments there was nothing. I rubbed my bare, extremely hard* and hairy chest steaming from the heat of tearing a structure into nothingness. Nothing of the structure remained, no stick or stray bolt. Only a hole that had been the resting place of the building. I turned away, my cloak blowing back behind me and leaped away. I camped that night alone in a forest between the wizards' towers, leaving Michael to his work. I pulled the cloak around me and I was sheltered from the cold of night and listened to the night sounds. I knew I need not fear any creature or even the raw forces of nature but still I felt comforted by the cloak. I shut my mind from the raw fury of Reb'kah. I hoped that our opposition would not be so dedicated. The next morning I leapt towards the fortress of Garoth. The fortress rested in a high rocky valley. The fortress was huge, literally miles across. It was made of a strange marbled blue and white stone. The center of the building rose in a peak that towered over even the mountains. A cloud blew across that high tower even as I watched. I walked towards the gigantic iron doors, they rose almost as high as Reb'kah's entire tower. The valley was lightly wooded with the wiry trees of the mountains. The doors were suddenly flung open by a gust of wind which pulled several trees out by the roots. I marched into the hurricane and saw emerging out of the doors the enormous golden head of a dragon. It roared and shook the ground with its fury. It clamped jaws bigger than whole houses. Acid dripped smoking from the gaping maw of its mouth. It snorted flame that bounced harmlessly off the clearly dragonfire proof bricks of the fortress. Monstrous chains bound its rear legs. The creature pulled fruitlessly on those chains. It turned its vast eyes and regarded my approach. Its mouth opened and a torrent of hellfire ran towards me. Without slowing my forward stride I opened my mouth and simply inhaled the flame, creating a gigantic torrent of suction that pulled all the flame into my mouth. I felt the gentle warmth of the fire that ran hotter than the rivers of lava in the earth, hotter than any fire known to normal creation in my vast chest. I felt an internal friction which caused it to grow, by my gut feeling, slightly warmer. I expelled the flame on to the wall next to the dragon. It was white hot, its brilliance blotting out all other sight fading the colors of the day to nothingness. It struck the side of the building, melting the dragon proof bricks to steaming liquid then to vapor in seconds. A huge hole had been opened up in the side of the fortress exposing that side of the dragon's chamber and several other rooms. The beast made a feeble mewling sound and retreated leaking a foul yellow liquid and brown substance as it pissed and shit itself in fear of me. I strode forward finding the vast thing covering itself with its wings quivering. Its scales rattling with the force of a seizure. Its huge claws were easily larger than me but I did not hesitate to lay my hand gently on one and begin stroking the creature. "Oh Great One, my quarrel is not with you. I do not wish to do battle only to pass and to parley with he who built this fortress." The creature shook slightly less and I could feel it coming out of the shock of our first encounter. I moved past its enclosing wings to where its legs were bound. I grabbed hold of the metal chains which shattered like glass in my grip. "Go free and fly to others of your kind and be not so lonely," I intoned. In a great flurry and buffeting of wind the dragon was gone. The dragon room only had a small door made out of the same brickwork. I was deciding my next move when I felt a transformation spell starting to work on me. I waved it away and watched the bright lines of power dissipate. Moments passed and I was thinking of following the power lines to their source. Before I did though I heard a musical trilling as the rear wall of the chamber simply reformed itself into a stairway of blue stone leading up to the top of the tower. It is nice to be invited, I thought and marched boldly to the tower and my host were waiting. The doors of the tower were worked with white gold and I recognized some powerful protective runes worked within the ornate designs. The doors opened and from the inner chamber a pleasant voice, "Welcome and enter!" The room was dark and suffused with a reddish glow. There were a series of dark curtains that I pushed through until I was in a large round drawing chamber with long couches arranged around in a rough circle. On one lay an attractive black haired man with his eyes closed and no shirt. Kneeling before him, clearly pleasuring him was a winged creature with a female body, a succubus. He groaned, clearly climaxing in the creature's mouth. The creature dutifully swallowed and retreated to the shadows. The man spoke, “She wants to destroy me, but my power makes her give me the most exquisite of pleasures.” The man opened his eyes and stared at me his eyes widening a bit as he scanned my full size, "I must apologize," he said rising with his hand extended, "you have caught me celebrating, the end of my most powerful enemy. I am Garoth, the wizard." I took his hand gently but I could see him wince at the force of my grip. "That would explain the dragon at the door rather than a smiling greeter, Garoth. I am Gregor." I gave the sentence a twist. The man's confidence looked shaken for a moment. A look of fear or something I could not read. “Yes, that was a costly mistake. I will miss Mnementh, he was a great pet and guardian. It was only with great sacrifice that I was able to hold him here. I should have made sure you had a proper greeting.” “Gregor,” he continued, “I assume you are also what ended the career of Reb’kah? I felt that only one such as you (I am assuming you are of the properly legendary brotherhood of Taiga) could end her power signature so completely. I also assume you are responsible for the darkness that clouds my vision of the king’s lands. Seeing these signs, I did put out certain protections. Which I should have guessed would prove useless.” “You have guessed a’right, Garoth. I am responsible for both situations and I am of Taiga.” He prodded me further, “I had always thought the legends were true. I actually made quite a study of the history of Eoghan and know of his partner Fearghus. At a foolish time in my life I even pursued the company of men who did not pass the culling to elevate as your people do. “To what purpose, do you do these things? I won’t say I’m not grateful of being rid of the scheming witch, the release of my dragon and the obscuring of my magic, are impressive but terrifying to me.” I found myself turning his words in my head. He had tried to elevate himself through the company of men, but he was not attracted, did not truly love them. The change had not happened but this might make him more open to treating with me, perhaps. “You hardly seemed terrified, Garoth. I am here to take over my home country of Mediolanum and rule it.” I said carefully. “And you are removing the pillars that support the king. First Reb’kah and now...I see. Why this sidelong approach, Gregor? Your people have been known to take on bigger forces directly. You certainly are more than capable of destroying my great power and Reb’kah’s in tandem and take on the army without much effort. I will freely admit that I not only admire your great power but it makes me jealous.” “I have spent the fullness of my life pursuing power such as yours. It is an honor to be near one who has achieved more than my greatest imaginings.” I felt an impatience growing in me. “My reason are my own, and since you are meeting with me you must understand, I wish to treat.” “Of course, I submit. I do not wish to be destroyed or lose my power. I see fighting as hopeless. You may dictate the terms. It helps of course if we mingle our blood. It binds us.” Garoth was doing exactly as I hoped. It is old magic that a contract drawn with the blood of both parties does completely bind both parties to the terms of the contract. He summoned a quill which he allowed to stab his arm. I willed the quill and used my power to strengthen it slightly pierce my impenetrable skin to take some of my blood. It suddenly leached on to my arm and pulled deeply from me. Garoth was chortling and I felt light headed for a moment and realized that the quill had injected something into me. I could feel my body destroying whatever it was but I was still light headed. Garoth himself was changing growing in size and strength. His muscles were swollen and covered in blue veins. His once slender limbs were now heavy with muscle. Nowhere near even the smallest of the Brotherhood but larger than any mortal man I had seen. A golden glow seemed to be coming from him and the sorceries embedded in the building came alive and wrapped around me and tried to slow my recovery. I opened my mouth to sing and thick black ropes of pure power ran into my mouth, stifling my voice. I could feel Garoth attempting to use my blood to pull my power into him. “At last, at long last. my pursuit of power is complete. This is my dream! The power it courses through me!!” he screamed triumphantly. The ornate and careful runes and sorceries were as nothing to me. I let a fraction of my power down the lines. The effect was immediate. The dark ropes of power burned white and then exploded, writhing like snakes upon the ground. The sorceries that were in careful balance burst all over the room. The succubi, suddenly freed from their sorcerous bonds, attacked Garoth with ferocity. Vainly he fought their claws and teeth. His strength and speed inadequate to the fury of the attacking creatures. They began flaying his skin from his bones. His triumphant grin suddenly became screams of terror as the she demons pulled him down devouring his flesh. They did not attack his vital organs. They wanted him living. A dark hole to another place opened and the succubi pulled Garoth’s still screaming carcass into it. The hole grew pulling pieces of the tower into it. I leapt away, easily escaping the pull of the darkness which was now pulling the whole of the fortress into itself. I watched the hole grow larger destroying all of Garoth’s foul work. Then I sang the song of closings, my voice shook the mountains and the trees and the forces obeyed me. The hole sealed itself and the doorway to that dark place was closed. I felt exhausted and slept that night in Garoth’s valley now cleansed of his evil. Nothing disturbed my rest and I awoke to prepare the final pieces of my plan and rejoin with Michael. To be continued.... The Culling - Conclusion A sitting room. Red all around, a diffused glow. In the middle of the room, a pinprick, a dot of darkness floated suspended in the air. The darkness started growing tearing open bigger and bigger. I opened my mouth to sing a spell and my voice was stopped I couldn't make a sound. Fearfully, I backed away from the growing darkness. A hysterical, gibbering sobbing scream filled the room and I saw Garoth trying and failing to grab the sides of the void with bleeding hands. He saw me and lunged forward his mouth filled with fangs... My eyes opened to see the blue of my cloak stretched above me in the morning light. I could hear a light tapping of rain on the outside. I slowed my breathing as I looked around my small makeshift tent. Absently I traced the muscles of the hard bulwark of my chest with one hand. I felt calmer. It had been only a dream. I was camped in a stand of trees by the King's highway several miles from the castle. I was waiting for Michael to rejoin me. As the tapping of rain subsided I crawled out into the drear of the early morning. I peered through the grey mist at the highway. It was completely deserted. Then I heard it. Maybe it always been there as a low thudding but it was getting louder. The heavy beat of drums the sound of thousands marching forward. The sound obscured all others and the ground was shaking with the force of it. I quickly gathered up my cloak, feeling it reform from a tent as I pulled it over my shoulders. A massive shape was coming towards me in the mist. It was huge, large enough to make one of the giant grizzly bears of the forest look minuscule by comparison. I knew instantly it was, "Michael!" I felt his huge arms around me before I even saw his face. He kissed me and all of me felt for a moment like it was just us, we were the only two in existence, the whole world was the two of us kissing. We paused and I looked into his blue eyes. "Gregor, my life. It has been many days. The world is not lovely when you are not beside me." His voice rippled through me. All I could do was breathe his name once but he heard everything in that. We walked to the highway where the army was marching forward. As they passed, they saluted us and continued their march forward. "I bring you a gift Gregor! All the king's men! We have the full army without a drop of blood spilt." "Michael, this was our dream. You are repairing the wound of Durness and Eoghan, here and now. And you have done far better than me these past few days." I said thinking of my encounters with the wizards. "Gregor, I believe you repaired the folly by yourself, with your own magnificent rod several weeks ago," Michael said with a salacious wink, "But what of the wizards? We have seen no sign and the men have ceased worrying about their retribution." I told him briefly about my dealings, finishing with, "So one is in some kind of eternal torment damnation and the other has had her identity and powers destroyed. Clearly, I am not so persuasive as you." "Gregor, it is the nature of the world that those with the most power never give it up easily. Their ambition and hatred destroyed their ability to work with us long before you ever came to call." "Then what of the king, Michael? Will he also be destroyed?" "I think not Gregor, for he has realized by now that his power has fled, he has no power to lose," Michael smiled confidently. We led the army until we were within hailing distance of the squat gray fortress of the king. It looked hunkered down, smaller and less grand than either of the wizard towers, this building was designed for defense. An inhuman bellow issued from the open gateway of the fortress and an enormous troll thundered out. It was dressed in filthy, rotted rags which exposed most of its body including its fetid, bulbous sexual organ. The smell of rancid piss and shit accompanied its appearance. The creature was dragging a club made from the entirety of a felled redwood, spikes thicker than an ordinary man's neck studded the free end of the massive weapon. "Even though you are the stronger, allow me some fun," Michael breathed in my ear, simultaneously staying me with a gesture and sweeping off his cloak. He was still wearing the simple tunic and breeches of a peasant, his hard and huge muscles only slightly obscured by the loose clothing. He strode up to the giant beast. The creature snickered, leered and scratched its big organ at seeing a lone figure moving toward it. I saw the creature's eyes focus and then widen with fear as it took in Michael's monstrous size. Its own hulking bulk was no match for the overwhelming thickness of Michael's colossal muscularity. As Michael sauntered nearer, his overpowering size became even more apparent. The creature's great legs would humble most tree trunks however Michael's forearms massively gnarled and distended with muscle were easily twice the girth of the troll's gigantic limbs. The creature should have run or been paralyzed with fear. Even if it didn't understand how infinitely more powerful, Michael's strength was, some animal survival instinct should have sent it running like a fragile fawn from a crushing avalanche of granite. The creature had no awareness of how disproportionate the fight was. It grunted with effort as its two great arms levered up the great redwood club. Ponderously, it swung the bulk of the club, twisting to torque up the greatest force into the movement. Michael could have easily evaded the blow but instead kept walking right into it. A great, cracking roar of sound erupted as the irresistible force of the giant swing met the titanic, immovable object of Michael. The club shattered against Michael's impenetrable mass, shredding his outer clothing. We watched as the heavy metal spikes, literally splattered by the force of the blow against the hairy alabaster of Michael's skin, bounced away flattened, unrecognizable. Michael's manhood was fully exposed and his flaccid magnificence was fully five times the size of the troll's now puny looking genitalia. The creature gaped at the impotence of its blow and the useless remnant of its weapon. Michael paused and moved one of his behemoth arms up, explosions of muscularity rippled across his exposed torso with the motion, and theatrically yawned covering his mouth with his hand. The soldiers cheered for the bravado of their humongously massive leader. The troll bellowed in a rage and began to charge Michael. It would have been so easy for Michael to destroy the foul, creature utterly with a single blow but Michael suddenly moved in a blur away from the creature. Before the troll could even take a single step Michael had crossed several hundred feet to the castle. With a single easy motion he yanked out the heavy portcullis. The shattered steel chains were still in the air while he blurred back towards the charging troll with the massive gate, ripping it into pieces as he moved. His hands moved fast warping and reshaping the hard metal into giant sized manacles. Then he was behind the creature almost gently manhandling its great limbs and manacling them with the transformed pieces of the gate. He finished by chaining the creature with a thick metal stake driven deep into hard rock. This all happened in almost a blink, I was startled by the sound of portcullis chains crashing down. I wondered if the soldiers thought it was magic, so quick were Michael's movements. The troll struggled helplessly against the weight of the metal that Michael had effortlessly forged with his grip. It's sluggish brain not comprehending what had occurred. It let out a mewling, beaten sound at Michael's retreating figure. I summoned clothing to cover Michael. We were overwhelming enough without Michael's nakedness awing everyone into stupefaction. After Michael's little show of force, the king's instant surrender was anticlimactic. The day moved forward in a blur of military displays and speeches and by the evening Michael and I were both crowned as kings while the former king was escorted to his home village. We acted quickly with multiple decrees. The first was that the culling ceremony would result in the chosen boys to be sent to training at the castle. It was our idea that the Brotherhood in our fair land would become all variety of public servants, that the strength of our kind would serve the weaker making all the land a stronger place. We also treated with the men of Taiga to open the former lands of the Folly for cultivation. The once sterile lands were now the most fertile in our corner of the world. Years past and the work of transforming a broken country to a land of prosperity and happiness, seemed unending. Having the power to single handedly annihilate any hostile neighbors around us made coming to agreements an easier task than that faced by our predecessors. This part of my life was filled with much happiness, but the darkness of the culling, while scrubbed from my own country, remained in the world. One night, I left my body and floated free in the nether world of the spirit. The world still was mostly covered in darkness however now the lights of Taiga were joined by the lights of my own Mediolanum. I felt pride at that. I turned towards the blinding white brilliance of the valley of the Elders. I now approached with ease no longer buffeted by the power that they emanated. They became aware of me. Many of the men I had known had passed beyond the bounds of the world since my visits so many years ago. A few of the brightest burning lights still remembered me. "Ah, Gregor who changes the world, we see our prophecies fulfilled," spoke a familiar burning form in the voice of gales. My own burning light did not waver from the force of his voice and when I spoke the shock waves of my power buffeted many of the elders' flames. "I am honored to be remembered by the elders and wish to discuss the possibility of changing the deep magic." A swirling in the matter of the elders and all was silent and then, "Gregor, for one such as yourself there exist many possibilities. The deep magic is all that makes up the movement of the universes. It is the substance of creation. To change it is to threaten the very fabric of what is. Even for you it may be impossible to make a change without being destroyed utterly and the danger of destroying everything that is, is very great. "We tell you this because among all we know, you are like our beloved son and we trust what drives you forward." There was a long, considered pause. Finally, the great voice spoke again, "If you must attempt this, go to the forest of green silences where the heartbeat of creation is most easily heard." "Great fathers, you are what has bound me to the Brotherhood even in my darkest days of bitterness. I am always your grateful son." I became briefly one with them, part of their tremendous energy. I could feel a change in my place among them. I felt I was at least as powerful as the mightiest among them and I drew them to my greater light. Despite this we all understood I was not ready to join their number, I still had my own life to live and promises to keep. My beacon like light separated from the elders and then I departed to my earthly form. I opened my eyes. Michael lay sprawled beside me softly snoring, the moon's light in our room turning his magnificence to silver. The dark hair of his chest breaking the sheen. Some part of me wanted to curl up in his safe warmth and never leave, I leaned over and kissed his forehead and breathed in his scent. My dearest forgive me. I left our room and crossed the castle to a room shielded from the rest of building for magic lessons. I sat on the cold flagstone and thought of the forest of green silences and began the spell of passage. The room melted away and I was sitting in a meadow outside near a dense thickness of trees. The trees were enormous, larger than even the great buildings of Taiga. The woods were so densely grown on all sides that no passage was possible for even a small child much less a being as large as I. I called out, "To she who walks between branches and he who guards with fang and hoof Lady and Lord of Green Silences one who has need begs entrance." Her voice was melodious and almost evaded the edge of my hearing, "Gregor, we know of what you would do and grant you leave to enter." I heard not a sound but the shadows around the trees seemed to deepen and I found myself peering at a path into the wood. I entered the stillness of the forest, the ground was soft with moss. I could feel a sense of the center of the place and my path led me to it. The morning light was lifting the gloom and for a second I thought I saw the green skin of the lady and the antlered head of the lord watching me. But when I looked more closely there was nothing but the forest. In the heart of the wood, I stripped my clothing and lay face first in the moss and sang a spell of joining. I felt myself falling into a vastness of life of power. I felt my being pushed into the big pulsing rhythms of the world. Was it breathing or a beating? It was through me and I was of it. I could feel the earth leaning and spinning to this huge movement. I began to be aware of parts, fit together, it was a massive machine exquisitely balanced and fit together each part depending on the other. Did it have awareness; this great engine of everything that was? I could not tell, I only felt my heart beating in time to its workings. For the first time in many a year, I felt small and insignificant. I pulled energy from within and sent a questing. Something in these intricacies answered me and with effort I moved through the colossus of the framework, feeling the deep magic pulling me back towards the world I belonged in. After what seemed days or hours, time has no meaning here, I saw it and recognized it as my goal. It sat dark and precious turning in the light, linking and continuing. I studied its place in this great machine. I then pulled all of my power into me, feeling my strength, my great potency even in this place. I flung my force at the darkness pulling it by force from its place. It came away, unmoored from its place in the magic. It burst into red and vanished. There was a sudden wrenching a tearing and I was pulled apart. I could feel my limbs being pulled, popping from their sockets, my essence was being pulled into microscopic thinness. I pulled with all my power but the force was relentless. I could only slow its unyielding tearing of my being. I felt a blackness descending and some part of me wondered what I had wrought. Dark and pain and coldness was the tendril of my consciousness as I held on. Light and warmth bathed me and I pulled new power into me. The force began to slowly yield. Small, infinitesimally small movements drew me back into my form and so slowly the pieces fit back and the great beating continued. I was myself and I let the current of the deep magic sweep me back to my place in the world. Darkness again but warmth. I slept. Light flickered and my eyelids flickered open to the green and gold of the forest. I heard a familiar soft snoring and felt Michael's massive arms wrapped around me. I turned in his arms to face him and kissed the dark stubble on his face, "You saved me." His eyes rimmed with exhaustion blinked open, "Gregor, you are awake. I feared you would never again awaken. I felt you slipping away." Michael's eyes sheened over with tears. "I am here my dearest and thanks to your strength, I believe I am well." I beamed my smile, my love into him. Michael smiled,"If this is a dream, may I never waken and if this is real, then I am truly the most fortunate of all men who walk this earth." "Oh my tired savior. I put you through this and you are thankful. I ..." I stopped too full of feeling and kissed him pulling the bulk of his body into mine. I could feel his pulse, the physicalness of him. I squeezed him. We made love in that sacred place and I felt blessed and completely restored. Michael was kissing the vastness of my chest as I held him. He suddenly stopped. He gently pulled out of my embrace, blinking wetness from his eyes, "But Gregor what did you do here? What evil came upon you that was so great?" "The world is now a changed place, Michael. The culling is no more. No longer will the pollen refuse to fall on one of the brotherhood. No longer will the wise women use that tool to kill us when we are young." Michael sat up looking startled, "There will be many of us Gregor, maybe too many for the world." "I know the culling is the greater evil and the world will find a balance. It will and we will shape it in a better way." We pulled on our clothes and walked out of the forest in our own thoughtful silence. Michael's smile broke through like sunlight, "How we will recruit our civil servants?" I returned his grin, "Maybe we can just ask them. There is no longer a reason to hide." The end of The Culling but ideas will be continued in a brave new world.

The Culling Part 6 There was a tremendous, thunderous CRAAAAAASH! which echoed in the distance of the tunnel. I could see a small patch of sunlight which looked miles away in the otherwise complete darkness of the cave. There was a stillness in the air and I could hear my own ragged breathing echoing from the hard stone. The light from the staff I held played over the crags and valleys of Jedrek's immense muscles. He was taking up most of the width of the large tunnel he had created, my mind could not comprehend the power it had taken to break and shove the thousands of feet of the hard stone from the mountain's heart all the way through and out the other side. It would have taken an army of men years with heavy equipment to create such a tunnel and Jedrek had accomplished it in moments and with a sense of playfulness. I fought to hold on to my own consciousness in the face of such a casual display of power. Jedrek was studying my reaction taking in the dampness of my breeches near my manhood with a brief smile and then said softly, "Gregor, we have only a little ways to go." I nodded mutely. Jedrek was still too large to fit back into any of his clothing so he turned and proceeded into the darkness of the tunnel he had created just by flexing, pulling and shoving. We walked for hours over the craggy floor of the tunnel. Little bits of stray rubble remained from the enormous rock Jedrek had forced out. Eventually the tunnel opened up and we came out into, devastation. The countryside was twisted and deformed all around the other side of the mountain and nothing lived here. There was not even the smallest plant or sound of wildlife all was broken earth and odd deformed relics of life, broken and petrified. "The great plain of the folly of Fearghus and Eoghan," Jedrek said softly into the dead air. "Fearghus?" I asked softly, looking at the vista. The miles long piece of rock from the tunnel had shot out of the mountain and come to rest a full league away churning up rock and earth afresh as it had sped away. Large chunks had broken free and lay towering alongside the path matching the ancient violence with a new upheaval. "Of course the breeders never mention Fearghus when they tell the story, it makes the whole thing too disgusting, I suppose." Jedrek's voice broke the eerie silence of the place. "Fearghus was Eoghan's partner. The two of them knew when they were boys, that they desired men and Eoghan managed somehow to keep Fearghus from the culling and eventually get Fearghus into his personal guard. When they grew into manhood they eventually made love and they elevated to manhood. So it was the two of them that eventually destroyed the army of Durness." Jedrek turned to face the gaping maw in the face of the mountain that he had created. He lifted up his massively muscled pillar of a leg as if he were going to take a large step and slammed his foot on the ground. His foot easily broke the earth as I might break the crust on bread. BRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMM! The force of his stamp cracked the earth in front of him and a fissure ran down the path we had come into the cave. The mountain groaned, shifted changing the shape of its craggy height as it collapsed into itself sealing the newly created cave. Great chunks of earth spilled forward and a huge cloud of dust erupted from the mountain. After the rumbling of the earth subsided, Jedrek said darkly, "Any who follow us no longer can do so." He turned from the mountain he had half destroyed and faced the strange, twisted landscape. "We are very near our destination Gregor. You will soon be in Taiga, land of the brotherhood." Jedrek pulled on his clothes which ripped slightly as they could no longer accommodate his larger body. The path was hard traveling with unexpected drops and gaping holes that required much detouring. We moved slowly across it. I asked Jedrek, "Why take such a slow journey? A man with your power could surely jump or fly home." "Gregor, it is very rare when I bring one of the brotherhood, who has been raised by breeders, to Taiga. I have learned that making the journey slow helps prepare them for the shock of their new life." We continued on and I learned more of the story of the culling. It was an ancient practice, began when the world was very young by the wise women who, according to Jedrek, were jealous of the brotherhood's dominance of female and male magics. The men of the brotherhood were not only infinitely physically stronger than men who desired women but they could call on an endless amount of magical power and they were not limited to the male magics but could direct the forces of the earth with more force than even the most powerful of wise women. A deal was struck where the brotherhood were given the vast lands of Taiga without challenge and the tradition of the culling began in the rest of the world. King Durness had broken that deal and Eoghan and Fearghus exacted the horrible payment for that transgression: The destruction of the great empire of Erin, which left my own small country of Mediolanum a broken place full of misery and poverty. Even in Taiga there were never many of the brotherhood. "We make up about two percent of all the people in Taiga." Jedrek said. Seeing my confusion, he continued, "That is a very small portion, Gregor. You have so much to learn about this world." After five days travel across that ancient scar, we came to the path where Fearghus and Eoghan had met Durness' scouts so long ago. The land was again normal and I could hear birdsong. The thaw had truly come as there was green pressing through the gray of the melting ice and snow. We were now on a well marked path and made good time. Despite some of my dark thoughts about Jedrek's violence, I found myself looking forward to life in Taiga. We traveled through a rocky terrain once again and into a canyon which ended at two gigantic metal doors. There were runes inscribed on the doors. Jedrek sang a short song in his deep powerful voice and the runes on the doors rippled with a blue light and an audible metal clanking could be heard. The doors opened for us, slamming behind as we entered. The landscape was immediately changed. Cultivated lands crossed by paved roads bordered with sculptured trees. In the distance I could see a mighty city, giant with large buildings. Large metal vehicles streamed in from the side of the city and out. "The great city of Virilius. My heart beats proud every time I return," Jedrek said. Before we reached the city I could hear it. A vast clamor of productive noise, from the metallic clanking of the metal vehicles, distant chords of music, to the hum of human conversation could be heard even as the city was some distance from us. The city was beautiful, exotic marbles and threads of precious metals were worked into the construction of the mammoth buildings so their surfaces swirled with color and light. There were beautiful parks and I could see ornamental lakes tucked into small, inviting nooks in the landscape. All spoke to the taming of nature. The buildings were built large because there were so many huge men in this city. The muscular behemoths strode with carefree ease paying little heed to the small, frail (who I would have referred to as normal) people who scattered out of their way. The normal sized people clung to the margins of the paths and were obviously trying to avoid crossing in front of one of these giants of men. Jedrek matched and surpassed many of these men for size. But I was shocked to see that the men who looked to be older than Jedrek actually were bigger even than him. Their midsections were thicker with muscle as was every part of their bodies. Many of the men wore no covering on their upper bodies, so their huge chests which cantilevered over their overmuscled midsections could plainly be seen. I was surprised to see how different many of these men were from each other. While most were fair skinned like Jedrek, many of them had hair ranging from dark brown through Jedrek's red to yellow hair like gold. Some of the men even had very different skin color. There were a few men with deep brown skin and one or two with deep black skin color. More striking to me even than their size and skin color was the open affection some of these titans of muscle showed for each other. Some of the men held hands and I glimpsed at least two male couples kissing in the park. I had never thought I would see such open affection between men in my life. I could feel my eyes wet with tears as a yearning for this sight, that I had never known I had, suddenly felt fulfilled. It was if an unknown hollowness had been filled and it was a piece of my soul that was returned to me. I felt a wholeness and a naturalness I had not known before. Jedrek, looked back at me, his own eyes filled with pride and kindness, "It has been hard on you, Gregor, these many years." The "normal" people who skirted around these monolithic men were more numerous but much less diverse. They were generally a pale, light haired people who must have been the original people of these lands before the Brotherhood came. We came to one of the odd buildings massive but with many smaller lighter fixtures that marked it as a building of shared usage. Jedrek delicately opened the human sized door and led me into a spacious entryway. The room was lit not with torches but round globes of light affixed to the walls. Jedrek gestured me to sit down on a sturdy bench, saying, "Gregor, this is the school, where you will learn your skills, history, heritage. And this is where I take my leave of you," he paused and his eyes softened in the light, "it has been fair traveling. Change boils around you. If you accept your gifts, you will be one of our greatest." His large hand engulfed my shoulder as he gave it a very gentle squeeze and he looked into my eyes. Then he turned and left the room before I could thank him. And so Jedrek left me there in the Great School. Thus began my time learning. I at first sat with the smallest of boys painfully tracing letters but soon moved up through the classes to more advanced studies. Our teachers were all massive men, who gently guided us though our lessons. Besides my letters one of the first things I was taught was movement. How to control my body precisely. This lesson was forcefully taught to even the smallest boys. I thought at first it was to help them become better warriors but I soon reasoned it was also so the boys could control their incredibly powerful bodies when they were elevated to manhood. When a boy was found to be of the Brotherhood, usually as early as one or two years old, he was taken from his family to the Great School of Virilius. Many of the boys had come from outside the city but I was the only boy from outside Taiga who had been raised by "breeders" and so often the center of curiosity. There was an arrogance in them that disquieted me. They expected the crowds to part before them. While it was never stated, there was a sense that "breeders" and especially women who desired other women were less than human. Despite the beauty of many of the young men around me and despite their frequent kindness to me, this arrogance kept me distant from my fellow students. In my room there was a mirror. The first time I ever saw my own face was in that glass. I had rough light brown hair that never lay straight, skin that was lightly tanned, darker generally than my fellow students but not nearly as dark as some of the men I had seen. I had dark brown eyes and when I smiled my cheeks dimpled. My reflection at first was a stranger to me but I did think myself handsome. Others thought so too and I was often flattered by the other boys around me who wished my company. At fifteen and sixteen it was expected that some of us would elevate and sometimes I would hear the moaning in the night and see the next day, the fresh faced boys with the bodies of gods. They would usually be moved to other quarters shortly after to train among the other giants. However I stuck to my vow. One boy, a year younger than me was particularly persistent in my second year. His name was Sean and his hair was the color of sunlight and his eyes were deep blue. His skin had an even golden tan. He had many admirers that followed him but he was enamored of me. He often asked me to sit with him and occasionally would slip a flower into my hand. I tried to be friendly, but distant so he would not pursue me further, There was a preparation for a dance for the 16 and 17 year olds, I had, through hard study, recently joined my own age group in classes. I had few friends as I always was studying to catch up. One evening as I walked from the library to my room I saw Sean waiting impatiently pacing in front of my door. Some of his admirers were there watching me with jealous eyes. "Gregor," he smiled and spoke loudly for the others to hear, "you study excessively. You must put aside your books and come to the dance with me." I knew many of the boys planned to elevate that night. I suspected that the dance was scheduled to encourage us to elevate. No one had asked me to the previous year's dance but this year a few had asked me. I had refused all the invitations. I saw the desire in Sean's eyes, but I did not wish to elevate with him or anyone else. I stammered, "Th-thank you but I d-don't want to go with you." My voice dropped into the sound of several of his followers hissing in disbelief. Sean slammed his fist into my door, "You reject me! I thought you were saving yourself for me, Gregor. I thought you cared." His eyes were red and he was blinking away tears. I realized how blunt I had been, I tried to put a hand on his shoulder he shook it off, "I move like an oxen when I try to dance. I did not want to embarrass you." "That doesn't matter to me," Sean was crying openly, his followers had moved away giving us a space, "Ever since you came to school. You were different, I tried to help you fit in. I did it because I liked you. How could you humiliate me, Gregor?" I spoke softly, "Sean, this is the truth from my heart. This isn't about you. I do not wish to be with anyone or to elevate. I did not mean to hurt you, I don't mean to hurt anyone." He looked at me, intensely, "You aloof bastard!" and he ran down the hallway. My insides were swirling and I felt emotionally battered. I went in to my room and locked the door behind me. I collapsed on to my mattress and fell asleep. I was in the smith again and it was stifling hot. The air was filled with the sound of gigantic bellows blowing the fire hotter and hotter. I woke from the dream, my room was pitch black and hot. I was covered in sweat. I could see nothing, but I could feel an immense presence, I realized the sound of the monstrous bellows in my dreams was the breathing of something huge. The lights of my room suddenly came on and I saw a hulking chest swelling in time to the immense sound of breathing. The chest was perfectly golden tan. I looked up beyond the vast expanse of muscle. I took in my ruined door with the lock wrenched out of it. And then I saw Sean's handsome face contorted by rage. The Culling Part 7 I was staring at a furious golden behemoth of rippling muscle. Sean was that behemoth. His wide shoulders almost brushing both sides of my small chamber. I could barely see my ruined door past the vast expanse of his torso. Though his thick back was near the doorway of the room the vastness of his chest overhung my bed by several inches. I seemed to see nothing but those massive striated, mountains of muscle. The heat from Sean's body made the close room almost unbearably hot, I could not get a full breath. "Ah puny Gregor awakes," Sean sneered and moved closer, turning sideways to stand on one side of my bed, his chest hung over three quarters of my mattress, I moved away, where the other side of my bed rested next to the opposite wall. I noticed that Sean's clothes still were in tatters around his massive frame, the craggy masses of muscle had destroyed most of his clothes so only bits of rags clung to his newly grown body. "Congratulations, on your elevation, Sean," I croaked out the traditional words hoping to still his anger towards me. "You see I didn't need your pathetic little prick," one of Sean's muscled hands shot out, ripping my sleeping clothes from my body in one blinding motion, "touching me to become a man." Despite the heat, I was shivering pushing my shoulders into the wall behind me. "Gaze upon a real man, Gregor the insignificant!" He tore the remains of his breeches from his rippling midsection revealing his truly massive manhood. Even though he was not erect, his cock had almost the same girth of one of my skinny forearms and hung down swinging almost half the length of his tree trunk legs. His testicles also hung low and heavy, as fat peaches in full ripeness. I could smell the scent of him, his sweat, his musk, the recent bout of sex all clung to him. Even though his cock was soft, it dwarfed my own manhood significantly. I curled my legs up against my torso easily hiding my pathetic member. "Truly magnificent." he smiled fondling himself and bounced his chest, SSSLLAAAMMM! SSSLLAAAMMM! His pec muscles crashed down. The force of his muscle bounce slammed me back without even touching me. My head cracked the plaster behind me. "You are a meaningless insect I will barely notice crushing," I opened my mouth to scream for help. In a blur of motion one of Sean's monstrous hands engulfed the lower of part of my face completely smothering my cry. My jaw was completely immobile in his vise like grip. As if I weighed nothing, Sean lifted my body in the air. "First the insect must worship the god and beg for his life. I will honor you by allowing you to touch my magnificence, insect." Pain ran through my body as I dangled in his grip and I began shrieking in my mind for help. I pictured mighty Jedrek. "Why do you hesitate insect?" He gave my body a small shake a bare twitching of his wrist and I heard an audible crack from my back and pain like I had never known sheared across my senses. I almost blacked out. "Does it break so easily then?" I could not see Sean as he spoke because of the waves of pain that bled red into my vision. Suddenly the pressure on my face was gone and I was resting on my bed. I blinked up and saw the shaved head of Master Lorcan, one of our teachers. He clenched Sean's large forearm with his huge paw of a hand effortlessly crushing the hard muscles of the massive teenager's arm forcing him to drop me. His light brown goatee framed the grimace of his mouth. Sean for all his incredible muscle looked like a child next to the monstrous shirtless teacher. Master Lorcan's lightly furred and insanely thick chest plowed into Sean's comparatively puny pectorals forcing them to flatten backwards and submit to the teacher's superior strength and overwhelming size. "Ouch," Sean's deep voice whined as he struggled ineffectively against Master Lorcan's incredible power. Sean instinctively put his other hand up to block Master Lorcan where it looked childlike and vulnerable next to the vast, crushing muscularity of the teacher. Sean reminded me briefly of a house cat in the paws of a tiger. In a voice several times deeper than Sean's, Master Lorcan said, "You never attack a non-elevated brother." The teacher tossed Sean up to my ceiling with a twitch of his thick forearm. As Sean's body slammed into my ceiling the teacher sang a short line and red lines of power twined around Sean's body pinning him helplessly to my ceiling. Master Thornton turned to me, all anger vanished; his light brown eyes soft with concern. He crooned a sweet song and a healing warmth washed over me, my pain vanished. I sighed and suddenly felt very tired. I could feel the rock hard ripples of muscle in his arm as he carefully picked me up. "Sleep now, Gregor," he said softly, "All will be mended soon." I succumbed to the tiredness and fell into blackness. A golden light pressed through my eyelids. I blinked them open and saw Jedrek's face smiling above me. There was a golden sheen over everything. "Blessed awakening, Gregor. The light is a healing spell cast by the good Master Lorcan. You are out of danger but you must sleep some more." Wordlessly I fell once again into darkness. I felt the warmth of natural sunlight on my face and blinked my eyes open. Gingerly, I tried to sit up. My back felt stiff but I was able to sit up right with no pain. "Good morrow Gregor". It was Jedrek. We were in a room with a long line of beds and windows overlooking the green common of the school. I found my voice, "It is good to be awake and it is good to see you, Jedrek. I thought I would never speak or see again." "Sean has been taken from the school. His shame is great." "is that the justice for attempted murder in your great city, Jedrek? I think little enough of your civilization." I was startled by the bitterness of the words I was directing at this man who was perhaps my only friend in this place and who was bigger even than Master Lorcan. Jedrek ignored my statement, "It was awful, Gregor but you accomplished something incredible. Sean had cast some simple dampening spells so no noise you could make would be heard by the school, but even though you have not come into power, you managed to call me while I was leagues away on the other side of the country. You overcame both the distance and Sean's magic with no formal spell. That is remarkable." "You heard me when I screamed in my head?" "Loud and clear. As if I was as close to you as I am now. I quickly alerted the staff and Master Lorcan intervened. I arrived soon after." Jedrek brought up one of his huge forearms to stroke his beard, "Gregor, we're going to put you into some of the advanced magic classes. It is practically unheard of for one before elevation." "I am honored," I twisted the words out as sarcastically as I could manage, "but I do not know if I wish to continue these studies or elevate myself, Jedrek. Most of what I've seen justifies the barbarism of the culling. I do not wish to be a part of that same violence." Jedrek seemed to hear my anger for the first time, "It is fully your choice, Gregor. No one can force the elevation on you. But accept the training of your gifts. They are yours regardless of your feelings and you should understand the use of them. If I may suggest," he continued looking sternly at me, "it is unwise to close your heart Gregor. Not necessarily because of the power but because I fear the bitterness you have growing in you. Living a life alone is not something I would wish on anyone." "I'll think about it," I shot back, of course intending to do the opposite. I did compromise ultimately. I enrolled in the advanced magic courses but did not allow myself to get any closer to my fellow students. I was the only non-elevated member of the class and I could not sustain the power of the other class members and even though my efforts were comparatively small, they left me exhausted. I was gifted though, particularly in astral travel. For some reason, leaving my body behind offered little trouble. One night, well into my third year, I lay in my room and began the ritual. I was floating up above my body looking down. No one was observing, I could roam as far as I pleased. I spun up and up kicking through clouds high to where the air thins and runs out, up and up until there was nothing between me and the stars and I was staring down not at the flat map of the world I had pictured since I was young but at the spinning ball that the Brotherhood claimed the world to be. There were clusters of lights scattered across the globe. Most of it was dark though. One region sparkled with light almost too brilliant to see. I flew closer and recognized the lands of the Taiga. I skimmed near to the lights but none seemed aware I passed. In the northernmost tip the cluster of lights became too brilliant to see. I flew closer and the waves of brilliance buffeted me, tearing at my astral form. I pulled from deep within and brought my form in together against the waves of and flew into the great energy within this massive light cluster. It was aware of me and one brilliant piece of light detached itself and hovered near me. In a voice that threatened to shatter me it asked, "Why do you disturb us little one?" "I mean no harm," the creature chuckled when I said this but let me continue, "I only wished to understand what you are. None of the other dimmer lights even acknowledge me." "The lights you see are the power of the Brotherhood. If you look very closely you will see very dim glows for the other wizards and the wise women. The glows represent the power that we have in this plane of existence. We are the old ones of the Brotherhood. As we age, we grow ever stronger until we have grown too large and strong, we threaten the earth herself with our movements. We wait in this valley to detach from the physical altogether. Those of us who remain, still care of earthly things and we know of you, Gregor, who brings change to the world." Despite the claim of earth destroying power, the creature did not share the same arrogance as the Brotherhood I had met. "You are correct, Gregor. We who have seen the warp and the woof in the world, we know our place and the place of others. It is humbling and we see the great pride of the Brotherhood as a flaw in our own pattern. You are one who reshapes patterns." it paused and I could see light sparkling between the creatures, "It is decided by those of us who remain to begin your instruction in the deep magics that come with age. We begin tonight." And so the elders of the Brotherhood taught me skills no one knows until they are ready to depart this earthly coil. During the days I was cold and aloof and in the night I enjoyed the warmth of their fellowship. I worried that most of what they taught me, I had not the power to accomplish, "Gregor, that is of no moment to us, rather we see this as correct according to all the paths, you could follow, if you never ascend to power, this knowledge still matters." Even though I never spoke about my personal situation, the elders knew it well. Years passed and I remained steadfast in my vow, remembering Sean's rage and Jedrek's bloodshed. At 22, I became a teacher at the Great School. I taught the beginning magic courses. I was the only one of the faculty who had not been elevated. Occasionally Jedrek would visit the school to bring a student from outside and he would look at me with disappointment. At 25, I seemed older than my years and more closed. I did not like to spend time among my fellow teachers, their great size and power unnerved me. And I felt they looked on me with pity or as an oddity. The normal people generally seemed coarse but they reminded me more of the people from my old home. None of the men would be interested in me. Perhaps, in moments when I saw myself clearly, I could see a bitterness emerging in me, but I ignored it and continued on. I did feel happiness and warmth among the elders on the nights I left my body behind, but that was the only fellowship I allowed myself. Sometime during that year, I remember bending over my students' exams and hearing a deep voice clearing, I looked up into the deepest blue eyes I had ever seen. The man in front of me looked to be in his late thirties, he was not elevated but he had the power aura of one of the Brotherhood. He had thick black hair and the shadow of a beard on his face. I could see lines of pain around his eyes, he had suffered before coming to his life with the Brotherhood. His skin tone was similar to mine and his features reminded me of home. "Master Gregor? I have been moved into your class, my name is Michael." I found myself beaming at him as I stood up and extended my hand. He was slightly taller than me and even though I tried to keep my eyes on his handsome face, I glimpsed some of his dark hair peaking from his shirt collar above his broad chest. "Well met, Michael. Welcome to my class," I greeted him more warmly than I intended. "We are in the middle of the year of instruction, so there is much to catch up. There are books in the library and I do have office hours I'm available to help." It was my standard speech to mid year transfers and yet it felt as if I was offering him something more. His smile dimpled his face, "I look forward to learning all that I can from you." He gave my hand an extra squeeze and went to an empty desk to sit down. He towered over the majority of my class, which ranged from 11 to 14 in years. As I presented the day's lesson, I found my eyes frequently wandering over to Michael. The other students predictably treated this non-elevated grown man in their midst with derision. I often dealt with the same derision at the beginning of each school year with a new class. He ignored them utterly and frowned in concentration at the lesson. I could see him earnestly trying to catch all the information with his awkward scrawl in his notebook. I was aware of the dusting of his black hair on the back of his hand. At the end of the session, I approached him with a smile, "How did you find the class, Michael?" "This one is very different for me. Where I come from, only women can do magic. There are stories of men that do. It is like a different language for my brain." He shrugged his meaty shoulders and gave me a crooked smile, "I never thought I would be expected to do such things. I thank you, Master," and he bobbed his head down in my direction and hurried from the class with a long stride. That evening I was in my gigantic office pacing around the huge desk trying to come up with a better introduction to the Song of Openings when I heard a knock on the door. "Come in," I said in an annoyed tone. There was a deep grunt as Michael pushed my heavy office door open. I could smell flowers on him although he carried only a stack of books. "Master Gregor, I apologize for the lateness of the hour. I need help with this Song of Beginnings. Even though I know my music some of these symbols don't make sense." "Michael," I heard my voice become warm and good humored, "please come in." I explained the symbols and the stances of power. Michael was even able to summon a feeble blue glow in the room. It was late and the exertion left him looking drawn as it does for those who are not elevated. "I don't understand, Master, how it is that those who are not elevated and not of the Brotherhood can cast great magics, are we weaker than them before we elevate?" he asked as he sat down after the spell. "Power grows somewhat as we use it and it takes less from us. But for the great magics, the wizards rely on the great towers which funnel huge energies into their beings. The wise women rely on time and repetition to cast their great magics so they are not expending such huge energies all at once. The Brotherhood are the only people that can call on the great magics instantly and without special equipment. But that ability comes after elevation." I continued, "I know it is not completely orthodox, but would you care to dine with me this evening, Michael? There is a small establishment near the school that serves..." "Yes!" Michael interrupted me grinning broadly. Even though the food is better at the restaurants ran by the Brotherhood, I usually went to the non-Brotherhood establishments. The furniture was less awkward and the noise from the families kept me out of myself. As we sat down, a lusty wench flirted openly with Michael as she served us our ale. "It has been a time since I beheld a man as comely as you in this heap, sir," she said pushing her ample breasts forward. Michael blushed, barely glancing at her display, "Many thanks, goodlady. But I am taken this evening," he said beaming a smile at me. She instantly stood straight and one of her hands flew up to cover her breasts, "But you're so old...Many pardons for my insolence sirs, I will pay for your meal." Michael let out a deep laugh, "We will gladly pay for our meal goodlady and we welcome your high spirits. If I were with someone less handsome, your beauty would be turning my head." She looked confused by Michael's answer but gave a small smile, bobbed a curtsy, "Many thanks, sir" and sped away without saying another word. "They all act like scared rabbits around us. At least they don't come with knives or stones for throwing, eh Gregor?" he winked good naturedly but I could see he was pushing away something dark in his mind. Our server returned with a young man who had obviously been working in the kitchen, his apron was grease stained. He looked nervously at us both as he attempted a smile. "This is Liam," the waitress said, "if he pleases you, he can be your server tonight." "Woman!" Michael growled, "Allow this comely lad to return to the serious business of preparing meals, as you return to the business of bringing ours! Only your slowness in this displeases us, in all other ways you are quite pleasing." They sped away and she returned with fragrantly steaming plates heaped high with roasted beef, boiled potatoes and carrots. She bobbed again and Michael winked at her. I felt dumbfounded at Michael's easy manner with everyone, "That was impressive. I usually just smile and try to ignore the flirting." Michael was eating heartily, "I did not want to mislead or hurt her feelings. I have spent much of my life pretending." I started to eat. The food was salty and especially good with the cold ale to wash it down. I looked at Michael and I found myself responding to a man's handsomeness for the first time since Sean. The feeling did not scare me and I could feel myself once again smiling openly at him. "Michael, how is it a man as handsome and likable as you has not come into the power? I would think you would have to fight off potential suitors." "I could ask you the same thing Gregor." Michael smiled with genuine warmth, took a deep drink of the ale and continued, "It is a bit of a tale. Like you, I come from Mediolanum a poor place that is faithful to the tradition of the culling. I knew very young that I was drawn to men in the wrong ways and I lived in terrible fear of the culling. I was not brave enough to take my fate, I wanted to live even if I became a monster." "I ran away, just before the thaw. I had planned a long time and had hollowed a tree and secreted what supplies I might through the previous year. It was a hard time but I was good at setting traps and there was plentiful wildlife. I moved as far as I could in the wilderness for those years. I survived without touching other human lives. I was now a man and while I had grown taller and stronger, I had not turned into a monster. I did train a hunting bird which became my entrance back to village life." "I came at last to a village far from my own. The people marveled at my hunting skills and the bird of prey at my command. I quickly earned a place within the village, but I was frightened that they would see I felt no desire for women. So I befriended then married a woman. Mara was my wife's name.I found ways of pleasing her and dreamed of men as I did. She was a good woman and we had a happy life. Soon, we were blessed with a son. We named him Caleb for Mara's grandfather." Michael took another drink of his ale, his eyes were dark with memory, "Ten years we lived happily until it was time for Caleb's first culling. I wanted to move away from the village and keep Caleb from the culling. Mara turned on me then, she called me weak. We did appear at the culling with the other families and while Caleb passed the wise woman pointed at me. The villagers picked up stones and tried to kill me as I once again fled into the forest. I lived there for a time before Jedrek found me and brought me here. That is the sum of it." He finished and spread his hands out and smiled a crooked smile. I told him my story and he listened intently, his blue eyes soft with concern, "Such anger in your heart Gregor," we were walking towards my quarters at the school. We were outside but the moon was so bright I could see Michael clearly. "The Brotherhood has saved our lives, there is much that is good here." I felt an emotion rising in me and I heard myself say, "When I close my eyes I see Jedrek killing those men without a thought, I see my students' arrogance. All I see closes my heart. I cannot feel love for what I am," the words ripped my heart. Michael, did not answer he stopped walking turned and faced me. He put an arm on my shoulder. I did not resist him. He drew me close and my body was pressing into his. I could feel his warmth pushing away the cool of the night. He spoke softly into my ear, "You are a good man, Gregor. Love yourself a little." Gently he took my chin in his hand, and I could see his face framed by the night sky. All the stars were shining bright... and then he kissed me. The Culling Part 8 The kiss was warm and sweet. His lips met mine and I felt completed, my body responded. Heat and such longing swept over me. I closed my eyes and broke the contact, "We must not do this, Michael." I said, my breath ragged with strangled desire. His voice was soft, "We do not have to travel this road alone. Wherever it leads, I will be there holding your hand, Gregor." I was overcome and rushed forward in a clumsy attempt at a kiss, my tongue inexpertly pushing into his mouth, I pushed him hard against the door squeezing him into me, the closeness, the sense of him driving away the dark thoughts and bringing on such pleasure. I could feel the hardness of his manhood through the fabric of his breeches and I felt my own member stiffen even more. I heard a low moaning noise and I realized it was coming from me, from deep inside my chest. My door swung open and I felt Michael's warm, calloused hand in mine as I led him through the darkness of my rooms to my sleeping chamber. I switched on the lamps as we entered. I turned to Michael who looked serious and directly into my eyes, he gently cupped my head in his hand and pulled me closer. I opened my mouth slightly as we kissed even deeper. My hands started to roam over his body, feeling him. I tucked one hand under his shirt feeling the warm, hairiness of his chest. I was twisting awkwardly and he confidently stripped off his shirt and then removed mine. His strong hands began caressing my chest and I heard his voice low and husky, "Gregor, such beauty." He tenderly bent low and his tongue played with my nipples. A small moan escaped me and instinctually my hands travelled to his waist and started fumbling with his breeches. Roughly, I pulled them down exposing his manhood. A dark patch of hair crowned his hard cock. Michael held very still as I stroked his penis, feeling the silky skin over the hard veins. I could feel the throb of his heartbeat through my hand and the sense of connection was palpable. I looked into his beautiful eyes and then lowered myself and gently took him into my mouth. He lay his hands on my shoulders kneading them gently as his body responded to me. Michael and I took turns pleasuring each other first slow and gentle and then with increasing urgency and hardness. Soon, I found my self forcibly pushing my cock into him again and again, sweat pouring off my body. My mind was full of nothing but the moment, the pleasure. My body knew its movements, like the sun rising, I felt at one with the course of nature. I was full of everything and nothing. A tingling that had built to the breaking point released as I came inside him. Michael began to roar simultaneously shootIng ropes of ejaculate onto my floor. His body convulsed with the orgasm and I could see his skin turn red, flushed with effort. I gripped his shoulders still in the throes of my own pleasure and I could feel the muscle of his shoulders, hardening growing. Michael bent his arms forward, fists clenched flexing his torso as his fists met each other in front of his abdomen. He bellowed and my hand was forced up and open by the ridges of hard muscle pushing up around his thickening neck. An enormous sense of well being and vitality filled my body. I felt alive, alert to everything around me. I began to feel a pressure growing inside me, a swelling. There was a roaring in my ears louder than Michael's outcries. An eruption of heat from my chest ran outwards filling my whole body. The veins in my hands and arms were rigid. My arms were pushed up by the pressure away from Michael's body. They were forced out stretched away from my sides. My biceps violently contracted bending my arms at the elbows. I flexed, hard, my arms felt tight and then I felt something hard pushing up against the knuckles of my fist and my forearm. I turned my head and stared at my left arm. My vision was filled with the new, vast expanse of my arm. I could not take it all in with one glance. My eyes swept lower to take in the lowest part of my flexed arm which curved with a heavy cable of thick muscle laying a massive foundation for the burgeoning peak of muscle far above it. My eyes traveled up the dense muscle, taking in the striations and the thick veins feeding the muscle running under the skin. The big bulging roundness of the lower biceps threaded with hard sinewy muscle. Finally my eyes reached the top of the mountainous muscle which crested above my eye level. It's gigantic size was pushing up under my fist and forearm like a craggy piece of cannon shot. My arms were bigger by an order of magnitude than Jedrek's mighty limbs. I turned and my other arm perfectly matched the other in size. I bellowed and powered out of my flex and then flexed the titanic peaks again....harder feeling the skin stretch tighter as the muscles strained and pumped even bigger. A sense of power and strength filled me overwhelming everything else. I noticed movement just below my line of sight. It was my chest. I looked down at the two massive slabs of muscle heaving out from my body. I once again pushed down my pumped up arms watching my muscular chest bulge even larger as my heavy arms came down. The pecs distended and rounded out in a rippling action. It was difficult to get my big arms to touch my waist, not only because of the pump, but because my back and chest had widened so far that when my arms hung straight they were nowhere near my waist. I once again turned right, surveying the expanse of my shoulders, they curved up thick and round, massive cables crawled over the caps of muscle as I moved my arms. Something moist was poking into the bottom of my chest, slicking the muscled gutter between my protuberant pectorals. Stiffly I moved my big hand under my chest shelf to investigate. My hand bumped into a thick, banded steel like rod, running up my midsection; my cock. I lightly massaged the gnarled log like appendage, enjoying the tingling wave of pleasure from my light touch. The swollen head pushed more urgently and deeply into my chest as my member responded with tumescence. I moved my hand to my midsection and my fingers found big squares of muscle, my thick fingers actually caught in the space between the flexing muscle. I tentatively pushed the unyielding surface of my crosshatched stomach. I ran my hand lower stroking the long muscles of my thigh, feeling the deeply striated muscles as I ran my hand across my leg which now had a girth greater than an oak barrel. I pushed my foot forward and was shocked at the monstrous appearance of my immense lower leg, then I noticed appreciatively how beautifully the muscles tucked tightly into the knee and then flared out again into titanically huge calves. I flexed my legs watching the throbbing musculature move in waves across this new musclescape of my body. At the same time of this enormous physical power, I also felt all the constraints to my magic dropping away. It was as if I had been in a closed dark room and then a door opened and then the wall and then I was on a limitless plain able to see all and there were stars and all of the cosmos and universes within universes. I could feel it all spreading out around me. My consciousness seemed everywhere. I dropped back into the room as I became aware of harsh sounds. I heard myself or Michael or both of us growling, making low guttural noises like animals. I forced my attention away from my own vastitude to Michael. He stood taller than me and was slightly but obviously bigger than Jedrek even when Jedrek was fully pumped. His body was slick with sweat and the ejaculate he had earlier spewed. His musculature undulated and shined as he moved. His dark hair and pale skin, flushed from the transformation, accentuated his throbbing physique. He looked lost in wonder at his transformation and then looked at me in the with those gorgeous eyes of his and smiled with such a sweet look of affection. I found myself grinning back in wonder at the openness of his smile. Then his eyes travelled downwards to the rest of me and he dropped to his knees before me, "Gregor, the great," he said reverently and then gently began to stroke my bloated manhood. "You are magnificent." I gripped his colossal shoulders and effortlessly powered his massive bulk up so he was standing in front of me. I looked up at him feeling comforted by his familiar smile. I felt an ache in my heart and the words came from me as I looked straight into his eyes, "Michael, this is all you, you fulfill me, you humble me, you make me whole. The world as it was before you is unthinkable to me." Michael did not reply, but his eyes became shiny with emotion and he tenderly kissed me. We lay on the bed. My chambers had been built for one of the teachers at the Great School and I had always felt lost in their massiveness. Now our gigantic bodies fit the bed's dimensions perfectly. I pulled myself close to Michael, laying my head on the hardness of his chest, feeling the fine soft hair spread across it. I felt the rising and falling of his breathing and allowed contentment to fill me as Michael stroked my hair. I looked down at the riot of muscle displayed in our intertwined bodies and an unease crept through me, I whispered, "What have we done? What have we become?" Michael, clearly unruffled by my question or our transformation, began to stroke my manhood as he answered, "We are who we always have been." He paused as my cock stiffened at his touch and an evil grin played across his face, "we just have so much more to play with now." and he pulled hard on my erection and let go. My appendage struck across my midsection like a large piece of wood making a THWAAAACK sound. I felt an evil chuckle rising in me and bounced the muscles of my monstrous chest. The titanic slabs slammed down shaking the room with their force. Michael's mighty body easily absorbed the impact and his grin widened, "Ah my lover likes to play rough? I believe I can accommodate." he blew the words tenderly in my ear and then we explored our massive bodies and ravaged them anew with our passion. Once again at the peak of orgasm, I felt totally at one with the universe; in bliss. After a time, Michael moved from our bed, towards the looking glass, while I savored the amazing sight of the rippling of muscle from his movement. Michael, the magnificent. His proportions filled the wide glass, as he surveyed himself. "Gregor, come stand with me," he said. I came and stood in front of him. I looked at our reflections. I was half a head shorter and the insane broadness of my brawn overwhelmed the size of the mirror and mostly obscured Michael's magnificence. The glass was not wide enough for me to see both of my shoulders at once. He rested his head on my shoulder next to mine staring at us, "We were poor farmers' sons who thought we would be killed and now we have a strength and a power that an emperor would envy. I will not let either of us regret that, Gregor" "But with such power comes a heavy responsibility, Michael." "Gregor, I am convinced we have the strength for that. But you are my intended and there is a time for all couples when they are allowed to play. I wish to celebrate!" Michael's deep pleasing voice began to hum a song and he moved his body to the rhythm of it, first swayIng both our hips in time as he pushed into me. He then gripped my hands and crossed our arms in front of my chest and he began to sing in my ear, "I want to take you away. Let's escape into someplace where we both can play." The words were simple and he did not follow form, but he was summoning powers and with a force to be answered. The walls of my room dissolved around us in a haze of blue mist. The mist began to seep away and we were standing naked in a clearing surrounded by lush, tropical vegetation. I could feel the sudden heat and humidity. The sky was clear blue dotted by clouds. A gentle and warm wind blew over our bodies. There was a constant rumbling sound in the distance. I heard large animal sounds in the foliage around us. Some part of me thought of our nakedness as vulnerability, then the thought of what we had become occurred to me and I didn't worry that my tree branch of a cock was swinging exposed. I felt no fear. There was no wild creature capable of hurting us. I knew there was nowhere on earth that we could encounter a force capable of doing us harm. "Michael, where have you taken us naked in the middle of the day?" He planted a kiss on my head, "I did not think I could actually do this. Do not worry my sweet, if this place is as I understand, there will be no one to spy your ample charms." He strode forward towards the rumbling sound and once again, despite my current apprehensions, I enjoyed the view of my lover's backside. The earth was soft under my feet but as we moved forward it became rocky, and I felt no discomfort from the change. My feet were much tougher now than they had been. Michael broke through one last swath of jungle and, "Here we are, Gregor! Feast your eyes." Ahead the complete horizon was filled with a roaring waterfall several hundred feet high. The thing was miles wide with white water crashing over the rocks in a tremendous rush water filling a lake that was miles wide and fed several large rivers. The base of the gigantic falls were shrouded in mist from the tremendous force of the gallons of churning water. Surrounding the lake were sands and lush vegetation. "It is beautiful. How did you know of this?" I asked. "When I was a boy there was a teacher who came for a time and tried to school us rough children from the village. Only me and a few of the girls came, probably because we found him handsome rather than from a desire to learn. He had books, it was the first time I had seen such things, and in one there were paintings of this place and the teacher said that many of the Emperor Durness' men had died trying to get to this region. It is surrounded by treacherous land and fed by a wild and lethally unnavigable river. Only a few survived to write and draw pictures of this place I always wanted to see it." I lay down on the sand and felt the deep warmth penetrate my body. "Gregor, it is not time to rest, it is time to play!" Michael shouted as his mighty, tree trunk dwarfing legs launched him into the air. He sped up in a blur so high he disappeared into the clouds above. Several minutes passed as I scanned the sky for his return. Michael broke the cloud cover again slowly falling his body spread eagled, his tremendous back flexed, stretching away from his body. He seemed to be slowing his downward fall. He stayed suspended for a time and then curled his body up into a big ball of muscle and plummeted downwards. I knew he couldn't be hurt but still found myself wincing when he impacted the water. Millions of gallons of water erupted from around the boulder of muscle. The splash spewed water into the air higher than the height of the falls, briefly obscuring the sun with a cloud of droplets and raining down on the landscape around the lake drenching me with refreshing water. Michael's head bobbed up from the water and then, even though the lake was deep he somehow managed to "stand" up in the water leveraging his leviathan's body largely out of the water upright while somehow treading water underneath the surface. He looked like he was standing in a pool up to his knees. His drenched body glistened in the sunlight. He planted his fists on his waist and slowly spread his back wider. His muscles tensed and heaved as he flexed and expanded his upper body. His stomach muscles hardened into a rippling grid. His legs bulged outwards as his body looked like it hardened into living stone. I responded to his muscle challenge by diving into the cool water. The heaviness of my body dragged me to the bottom, and the vast current pushed me backwards. My body effortlessly swam against those forces. I might as well have been in a still pool. I swam along the deep rocky bottom of the lake. I noticed no sign of fish or plant life in the clear water. There was no need for me to breathe as I stayed under for several minutes. I noticed a great churning several feet above me in the water. Michael. I kicked up, effortlessly speeding through the liquid space towards his kicking legs. I blasted out of the water, maybe twenty feet in the air spraying Michael. Michael had started flexing his great arms into an intimidatingly huge double biceps pose. His mountainous biceps each rounded up bigger than his head with hard muscle. I landed near him and "stood" in the water matching his pose. Matched and exceeded it, my arms eclipsed even Michael's inhumanly large arms. I put one of my gigantic arms next to his and flexed it watching its himalayan peak dwarf his own monstrous muscle.q Michael moved towards me and kissed the top of my arm and the whispered in my ear, "Race you to the top of the falls!" he instantly submerged and in seconds I saw his pale body cleaving the blue water streaking towards the distant falls. I let my body sink into the cool underwater and then kicked against the current. My body was unstoppable and this current that a legion of rowers could not have battled was nothing. Whatever I needed to battle the water my body gave me easily. I looked up to see the amazing sight or Michael's wide, muscled back easily splitting through the falls as he sped swimming up them. I put some effort and like lightning I shot up the falling water at blinding speed passing Michael and then managed to "stand" in the savagely surging waters with my hands on my hips looking impatient as he topped the falls a second later. The crashing waters thundered around us throwing up rainbows around our impervious bodies and Michael laughed louder than the great waters. "It is good, is it not?" he bellowed against the huge noise. I nodded. Michael leapt into the air spinning and dove once again in the lake below quickly appearing on the distant shore and laying in the sun. I leapt high in the air from treading the churning water, and thumped down on my feet next to him, my immense weight shaking the ground. Michael reached out an arm and affectionately gripped my hard calf muscles. He stood again looking at the landscape surrounding us, "Gregor, watch this." Michael opened his mouth wide and inhaled. All of the mist in the area disappeared down his throat. Then closing his lips together he started to blow. The force of several hurricanes exploded from his lungs and blew out from between his lips. Using his cheek muscles to control the direction of the air, Michael blasted the falls with super-cold air. Well, not really air, more of a cloud of compressed cold that contained absolutely no heat energy. The giant clouds of heat absorbing matter engulfed the miles of waterfall. There was an eerie cracking, crackling sound, and then all was quiet. No rushing of air from Michael, no roaring of millions of gallons of water cascading down the cliffs. Everything was silent. Even the animal sounds were stilled. One part of me felt a horror at how easily Michael, literally, blew away the laws of the natural world. Another part felt excited at the potential in my own body. With the absence of any life to be harmed, I felt free to try my own, "trick". I bent down and extended my arm and gently knocked on the ice. It felt solid, frozen harder than a rock clear through. I rammed both my fists deep inside the super solid structure securing my grip. I felt my muscles expand even greater as they delivered the strength for what I wished. I could see my forearms bulge as the cables of muscles thickened and writhed as I started to pull. I began to stand up. All around us for miles there was a cracking noise and the ground started to rumble and shake, as I lifted the entirety of the frozen lake and waterfall into the air. Hundreds feet thick of super-frozen water, several miles across in every direction, encasing rocks and detritus moved cleanly out of the lake bed in one piece. The river rushed in underneath and filled the lake basin with water that crashed on the shores and down the riverbeds as it roared in. I held the frozen mass of thousands tons of water easily aloft. My body seemed to have an endless supply of strength and this did not tax it at all. The frozen mass looked like a strange, massive crystal sculpture. Michael gaped as I gingerly removed one hand and held it all with just one arm. My arm easily supported the colossal bulk. With my free arm, I drew Michael near me and nibbled on his ear, "Watch this, Michael" I whispered against the sound of the restored falls. I opened my mouth wide and drew in a massive amount of air, the vegetation around us shaking and bending towards us. I held it deep with in my massive chest, concentrating and compressing it, heating it and then I directed the superheated mass upwards at the harder than granite ice sculpture I held. Upon impact of the super hot air, the ice exploded into steam forming a cloud over the lake. Boulders and debris that had been suspended in ice moments before rained back down into the lake. Warm precipitation from the cloud fell down over the lake as I blew it higher, using normal breath now. A huge rainbow stretched over the valley. We stared at the beauty shoulder to shoulder, with our heads craned in and touching. "Let us promise to try and do no harm," I said staring at the rainbow and stroking Michael's lower back. "Michael grasped my hand in his, "I promise to never do harm, unless it is to protect from greater harm," he kissed me on the cheek. "I promise as well," I said solemnly. Michael smiled crookedly at me, "We are monsters now, Gregor."

The Culling Part1 The thaw began early that year. All the boys between the ages of ten and 16 in our village were standing in line, in front of Agnieska, the wise woman, as she performed the ritual. The ground was muddy, wet and cold but I could feel beads of sweat run down the back of my neck as she stared at each one of us in turn. Her gray eyes seemed to linger longer over me. She sang some sort of song in a strange language. I could feel a vibration in the air as she summoned. She plucked several of the bright orange flowers from the slushy earth. She shook them hard releasing a cloud of pollen which held a vague blob like shape near her. She then violently pulled out the thick stamens of the flower and then pulled them apart. The pollen glittered at the sacrifice and then began to move and fan out over the boys. It fell in an even sheen over all of us. All of us except a dark haired 13 year old boy named Ulric. There was a clear space around him, not even a particle landed on him. A hiss of breath came from the villagers watching us. Ulric's mother stifled a cry as the wise woman moved toward him with a knife. He stood silent in his clear space. The villagers stood silent around us boys as she silently cut his throat and he fell to the ground. After the body was taken away, the rest of us stripped and ran to the river and into the icy water, washing the clingy pollen away. I forced myself to laugh with the other boys pushing down the deep guilt I felt in not being taken along with Ulric. It was my last year, I had passed and yet I knew I should have been killed as well. *********************************** "It is a hard thing, but he died human, Mertha," John the Elder, said to Ulric's mother. It was night and the villagers clustered around the fire in the great room to hear the story after the culling. John the Elder turned from the bowed woman to address the rest of us with the story. Durness, the mighty was the greatest ruler this world had ever seen. His army stretched from horizon to horizon with several score more waiting beyond. Some of the greatest of all knights, fought alongside each other. Men who had slain dragons and fought trolls and whose songs the bards of our kings still sing. He employed over 20 of the most powerful wizards and witches, whose spells protected the land and made the people prosperous. His people were pious and good and performed the ritual every spring just as we do. Some years they escaped sacrifice altogether and the villages remained pure and unsullied. But Durness was proud and felt beyond the laws of natural men. He did not subject his own sons to the test. He felt his bloodline could not produce a perversion. His first son grew up tall and strong and good and Durness was glad he had never been forced to stand in line with the common boys. His second son, Eoghan was even more promising. His eyes were clear blue and his hair as dazzling as sunlight, his wit keen edged and his prowess on the battle field was twice his older brother's. When he was fifteen, the change began. His shoulders grew wider. Wide enough that Eoghan had trouble walking through a door. His arms grew larger than a man's leg, larger around even then a sturdy man's full torso. In short he became an abomination to the sight of good people. Durness tried to hide him away in the dungeon, but one night the creature burst through the thick stone walls and escaped. Durness used his resources to track the creature. Hoping to destroy it before it harmed his people. To no avail. Several years later the great seeress, Lythum was able to divine that the creature had joined with more of his kind and that in the center of the great range of mountains that marked one of the great country's boundaries, there was a lair where his son was now living. Durness in his great wrath and pride, set his full army to march against the lair of these creatures. He wanted to destroy all of them. He felt that if their kind was stamped out, the perversion would no longer infect the men of any family. As the advance scouts approached the mouth of the pass through the mountains they saw a small encampment by the side of the road. Standing by the fire was a creature several times larger than Eoghan had been when he was imprisoned. They trembled as they approached, recognizing in the still blindingly handsome features the face of their former prince. He wore only a cape, heavy boots and a breechcloth held up by a leather belt. His body no long looked human. There were massive mounds of hard flesh stretching out from his chest area like mountains. His arms were bigger round than a body of a horse and covered with craggy lines of muscle and veins. His legs were even more massive and he had to stand with his legs slightly apart accommodate their enormity. He carried no weapons that they could see. The creature frowned at them and then spoke with a voice that shook the ground with its power, "Turn back your army or you will all perish by my hand. You shall not march against my brethren." The scouts dashed back to the generals who surrounded by the leagues of men, fighting animals, heavy equipment, laughed at the message. They sent out a hundred men at dawn with instructions to bring back the head of the second son of Durness. The noon sun drew to the center of the sky and dark cloud swarmed over the general's tent. A hundred heads of the men who had been sent rained down upon them. The generals sent a dispatch to Durness that the battle might need magical support and the wizard's climbed to the top of the their towers to summon their most potent magics against the creature once known as Eoghan. The army then marched forward reigning death upon the single man. They attempted to surround and destroy him. The creature's bronze skin glistened in the sunlight as he moved quicker than the eye could follow obliterating the soldiers and their weapons in fleshy explosions of motion. The bronze blur would come upon a heavily armored group of men and equipment and there would be an eruption of chaos as man, beast and objects were destroyed. Spears were pulled from the grips of strong warriors and then flung with such force that they pierced the armor and bodies of a score of warriors often bursting thick trees before they finally cleaved to a wall or burrowed long trenches into the ground. Then the Wizards sent down bolts of power to stop Eoghan. He grew even larger swelling three times his already gargantuan size as the power burned down upon him. The energy destroyed anything near Eoghan but he laughed as the blue power crackled around him and flung powerful bolts from his hands that were several times more powerful, reducing the wizards and their impregnable towers to dust mites with single strikes. One wizard set a tornado twisting across the land to destroy the creature and Eoghan drew an enormous breathe and sucked the entirety of the storm within his body and then breathed out a storm hundreds of times more powerful that boiled the very earth and drenched the earth in the blood of thousands of men. The storm traveled to the city fortress of the wizard and destroyed all, whipping him with lightning and agony and then leaving his body impaled on the city's highest tower. in the course of a single day, the mightiest army known to our history and the empire that linked over a hundred countries in peace had been destroyed. The battleground was a place of desolation and when Eoghan, massive as a mountain himself covered in the gore of the men and creatures he had destroyed, stood before one young soldier who was the last of all the mighty armies, "Tell them what you have seen so that no others will ever be foolish enough to march on the Taiga lands. You are marked with my sign so that all who see you will know you speak the truth." He traced a sign with his hand which burned into the forehead of the terrified soldier, who forgot for moments his loathing of what Eoghan had become and kneeled before him as to a god. In a flash Eoghan was gone leaving the soldier alone in the center of the devastation. It took the soldier several days to cross the vast plain where the great army had been destroyed. There was nothing living in that place. No grass or wildlife, nothing stirred in the charred remains of the land. The land was twisted into weird fantastic unnatural shapes and the journey was slow and difficult. When he came at last to the great capital, now with its ancient towers sheared to the ground, he saw a body hanging from battlements. It was Durness, dead by his own hand. Of course the great empire was destroyed and we now live in hovels ruled by petty tyrants and squabble with each other, all because of the perversion. For those men who desire other men will become creatures of death and destroy all around them for their perversity is unholy and should be destroyed before it blooms. Everyone nodded silently their faces hardened and there was no grief for Ulric. But I, Gregor, the eldest son of a widowed mother, also desired other men. Parts of the story describing Eoghan's power and size actually made my manhood become hard and I worked to conceal my aberration. I knew some men gave themselves up for death to save the village but I could not bring myself to do that and I could not run into the forest and leave my family to fend for itself. so year after year I pass the culling somehow and pray that my passing means that soon I will look not look upon men with a longing that burns through me and haunts my dreams. The Culling Part 2 The thaw was in retreat as storms off the north re-froze the land and destroyed the early flowers. I pulled my body into a ball trying to conserve my body heat against the cold. I could hear the timbers shift around me in the fierce winds and thought of Eoghan who had swallowed a greater storm into his body. I could not imagine the power. I slept then with the wind and cold and the golden presence of Eoghan in my dreams. The wind moaned and the room was still dark as my mother groaned out of her bed. I rose as well and threw some small sticks of wood on the coals and then carefully built the morning cook fire. My mother trudged in and pulled a pot with congealed fat over the flames, "You waste too much wood," she grumbled as she warmed her hands over the flames. "Don't be a layabout! Fetch your brothers!" I grunted and pulled on what warm clothing I had. It smelled of sweat and animal grease. Warm smells. I punched the sleeping mounds still on the mat we all shared as a sleeping place. Niklas and Ralf gave twin yawns and started shuddering with the cold. I hefted the frozen water basin near the flames and went out into the wind to see to our poor few animals. When I returned, I could smell the thin gruel of the morning meal and saw Agnieska's girlservant, Betha, a wiry, suspicious eyed creature, huddled next to our hearth. "She needs to see ya this mornin'." Betha said in a flat inflectionless voice. "You need to hurry with no eatin." She slyly smiled at my frown and the sound my belly made at her announcement. My mother looked disgusted, but said, "Leave soon so you can work soon. Go see the wise woman." The snow blinded me as I walked into the wind, watching for the marks for the path in the snow to Agnieska's hovel. My clothes were patched together pieces of fur and too small, i kept pulling pieces and trying to make myself smaller as I trudged as quickly as I could. "You're late boy," Agnieska stared at me with something like hatred and something else. She had called me in like this every few months since I was a child. She had a large fire in her hovel and the place stank of drying plants. She muttered chants as she stirred a pot on the fire. "Sit down laggard. You know by now what to do.". I pulled off my clothes and sat naked before her fire. The scented steam wove around me and I felt far away. The room seemed to fade away from me and I was in a gray mist and could only hear the harshness of the wise woman's chants. A cup was pressed to my lips and I drank the hot, foul liquid down. There was a long silence and then the mist glittered green around me. Then a triumphant whisper, "You're mine now." I don't remember going home, just suddenly becoming conscious and finding myself doing my usual work at our house. My empty stomach rumbled as I tried to stay patient with my two younger brothers' games as we tried to patch holes during the lull in the storm. The noon hour was drawing near, "Be careful not to waste and put everything back, I need to get me to the blacksmith's.". They grunted and Niklas tried to kick Ralf's legs out from under him. "Hurry," I hissed at them, "before the storm comes." John the elder was the strongest man in town and the only blacksmith for miles. Fate had given him many children but all of them girls. He employed two of the village boys to pump the great bellows for food and iron working skills. The heat of the shop smacked me in the face, John stood before the anvil an unfinished hook shaped piece grasped in the tongs. His brawny forearms bare and bristling with hair, I tried to sneak a look at the working of the muscles as he swung the heavy hammer down. "Quit your gaping boy, Maugh needs spellin'. I quickly ran over to replace the exhausted boy and pulled hard on the bellows, creating an intense flame. And so it went for several hours. I occasionally felt dizzy but shook off the feeling. I was in the back room finishing the clean up when I heard the door open and close. John began, "i'm sor..." he stopped. There was silence and then a deep voice rattled the tools on the wall, "I"m looking for Gregor." John had always been the biggest man I had ever seen so I was shocked when I came out and saw the huge man in front of John. He made John look puny and childlike. He wore a cotton tunic and leather jerkin and breeches with a hooded cloak thrown back to expose his dark, reddish hair. While he was properly covered, his musculature was so extreme and overly developed that his clothing bulged outwards all over the place. His chest pushed out in front of him and I could clearly see the fantastically huge mass of the muscle deforming the leather. I could see the indentation where the deep canyon ran between those fantastic shieldplates of brawn. The cotton of the tunic was stretched like a second skin over the magnificent craggy roundness of his upper arms. His incredible hands, big and thick were easily several times the size of John's own large hands. John seemed to shrink away intimidated by this immense man. "He, he's in the..." John gaped speechless. I stepped forward held mute by this man's power. He smiled, briefly, dazzlingly. I felt my knees buckle. He sternly faced John and said authoritatively, "We are going." Outside, he carelessly picked up a huge leather pack one handed and slung it over one of his monstrous shoulders. I marveled at his thickness and the graceful, confident ease of his movements. His thick heavy legs easily broke a path in the snow. He looked more beast than man, but even the great bears seemed smaller. "But my mother, my brothers,". I found the strength to ask. "I bought you from your mother," he looked at me almost gently for a moment, "We need to move Gregor. The soldiers will be coming soon and I don't want to be near this or any other village when they do." I stopped for a moment and he turned impatiently again towards me. "Sir, what should I call you?" The brief dazzling smile shone out and he laughed, "Gregor, you may call me Jedrek." The Culling Part 3 My head was bursting with questions as I followed Jedrek away from the village where I had spent my entire life. Who was he? Why had he bought me? It was not so unusual to buy indentured servants, but he had never seen me before. What was to become of me? When I looked at his impossibly wide back which made his cloak flare out at an improbable angle and his incredibly thick powerful legs, I wondered WHAT he was. He had money that was clear, the huge leather pack that he easily carried was made with fine leather, the leather quality of his large boots and overstretched breeches were the finest I had ever seen. Why would such a man want me as his servant? He had acted kindly to me so far and I focused on that as we climbed the hills away from everything I had ever known. After several hours, he stopped suddenly. The sun was just coming down and the air was charged with orange light all around us. "You need food." he said striding back towards me. He set his pack down, and pulled out a round loaf and then rummaged around and pulled out a small jar. He broke the loaf apart and slathered each piece with the dark purple substance from the jar. I smelled berries. "Here, sit down on my pack. Rest a moment." "All of this? For me?" This was more food than I sometimes had in a full day. He smiled again and nodded and then sat down on the ground without any food and studied me while I devoured the first food I had eaten all day. It was bread with blackberry jam. The best bread I had ever eaten. A hard crust but soft inside. The sweet jam was bliss. The tart berries made me feel like it was summer. And as I ate, all the tiredness I had felt was gone. It was as if it was a new day and I had just woken from a restful sleep.. "We have to go on through the night, Gregor. We won't set up camp until we've had at least another day's march. That should help keep you going." Jedrek walked up to a tree and pulled a thick branch off of it. It broke like a twig in his grasp. He quickly ran his hands along it breaking off twigs smoothing the wood with the pressure of his hands and again breaking the ends and in moments had a perfectly polished staff. I blinked my eyes in disbelief at the sight. Jedrek looked back the way we had come and then turned to me, "We must continue." We walked on. When darkness came Jedrek somehow fixed a flame of some sort to the top of his staff and kept the darkness lit. No animals came across our path as we marched through the night. After eating and feeling restored, I somehow had the strength to keep walking. In the morning, Jedrek gave me more bread and we continued on. Midday we broke from the main road and veered into the forest. Jedrek did not move stealthily but broke a large path through the snow. Easy to follow. We stopped where the trees were a little less full and Jedrek sat down on a fallen log near two giant oak trees and gestured for me to sit next to him. I felt worn and somehow like I was as thin as paper and could be blown away by the wind. As I sat down near him and looked up at his handsome face, I was struck yet again on how truly massive he was. I could see mounds of muscle pushing up against fabric on either side of his thick, thick neck. "The bread and berries can only sustain for so long. We will have a proper rest tonight and I need to talk to you a bit now that we have some time." Jedrek said looking at me with some concern. He continued, "I come from the lands your people call the Taiga." I gasped, "Like Eoghan." His eyebrows raised, "Your people still talk of Eoghan? Good." So many feelings rose through me. It was like a wave. I had only half believed the story. "Is it true? Can you do that? Are you a...." He laughed again. "I had heard you were silent, Gregor. Of course everyone in your village falls silent around me." "We will talk more of Eoghan. As for what I can do. Let me demonstrate." He stood up, and pulled off his cloak and then gradually pulled off his tunic. I watched intently, feeling my manhood stirring as the material lifted revealing his pale skin dusted with reddish brown hair. First his stomach which was small but covered with bricks of muscle. HIs sides were covered with creases of muscle, like the smith folding and refolding metal until he achieved a perfect edge in the tempered iron. His midsection looked hard like the metal and the heat from his body steamed the cold air around him. Then my eyes traveled up and out the enormous sweep of his back visible no matter which direction he faced. His back was rutted like a rocky slope with deep trenches and high hillocks of muscle and small tributaries of veins. He turned and I could see the hairy mounds of his chest projecting impossibly far out from his midsection. HIs big nipples pointing downwards by the heavy mass of muscle that carried them. He saw where my eyes were wandering and somehow flexed his huge chest so the muscle lifted and slammed back down. SLAM! SLAM! The sound knocked me off the log and I scrambled quickly back up to keep watching. His shoulders stretched far out to either side of his neck and rounded up larger than me and my brothers heads put together. As I stared at him I could feel a dampness in my trousers spewing from my manhood. Jedrek looked like he appreciated the attention but he wasn't done. "We need a little more space and firewood for a proper camp," he said striding up to the two giant trees in the center of the clearing. Jedrek stood between them and I realized his body was much thicker than either of the huge old trees. He tensed his muscles a bit and his body exploded with rippling, defined, huge muscles over his monstrous chest, shoulders and arms. The light fur of his body glittered in the cold sunlight. Without bending his knees he placed his hands on each trunk as low as he could. I saw his forearms bulge a bit and watched his fingers dig in tree trunks with loud crunching and tearing sounds. His fingers completely disappeared in the trunk of the trees. Then he looked at me and smiled. The ground beneath us began to groan. The snow began to shake and the drifts to break up with the motion. I looked at Jedrek and he was barely working. The thick ropes of muscles in his shoulders seemed bigger and there were more of them, but he seemed relaxed and calm. His smiled broadened and he simply raised his arms. The sound was deafening. Ice and snow and then roots and rock and dirt and were screaming with distress as his two obscenely powerful arms and shoulders simply tore the two giant boles from the earth with a ton or so of soil and rocks clinging to the roots. The air rattled with the sound and ice and snow fell from the neighboring trees with the force of it. With no leg or back power he lifted the huge trees from the ground where they had been attached for probably hundreds of years. He stood there with muscles bulging a bit as he held the lumber aloft more securely than if they had still been in the ground. He then proceeded to easily walk as if unencumbered to the edge of the clearing and then he gently placed them on the ground upright where they stayed balanced. I was breathing hard, panting at what I saw but Jedrek was breathing normally as if he had not exerted himself at all. "Stand a way a bit, Gregor." I climbed away from the gaping twin pits of frozen soil and the two upright giant trees. "Now the firewood. This tree is good hard wood." He walked to the base of the good tree and picked it up with one hand near the bottom and began to shake it like a child would shake a stick. The enormous tree creaked with the force of it. Dirt and twigs and smaller branches and leaves went flying off the tree with a flick of Jedrek's wrist. After only a few moments he stopped and the tree was clean of dirt, leaves and any small branches. Only the core of the tree remained, the wood good for the campfire. It was ready to be cut to lengths. He turned the tree horizontal by simply twisting his monstrous forearms. Easily aiming the length of the tree down the path we took to get here. He settled the monstrous tree down, the root mass overtopped his head by several spans. "Do you have an axe to cut it?" I asked stupidly. "I don't need tools," he said clenching his enormous hard fists, causing the muscles in his forearms to bunch up and writhe like the large water snakes from the river. He strode to the far end of the tree. The enormous heat from his body leaving a steaming trail behind. I heard a distant violent cracking and shearing sound and saw him quickly cleaving pieces of wood down the path with his hard knuckles. Somehow he was able to cleave the wood cleanly with a single punch of his fist. His body was a pale blur and suddenly I was staring at a neat row of wood sections. Even the enormous root span had been divided. "Now I'm going to show off a little bit," Jedrek's impossibly deep voice sounded almost boyish. He was enjoying stunning and frankly exciting me. He pursed his lips together and started blowing bursts of air. He had so much power and precision that the air bursts lifted mainly only the root pieces and scattered them out of the clearing. Then he turned to the sections of logs down the path and then made a sucking noise. Suddenly the first log pulled free of the earth by his suction and hurled itself at his face. He caught it easily in his huge hand before it smashed into his face. Again and again he did this neatly stacking all the wood in this manner. He turned to the other tree. "This tree is starting to rot. I could feel a slight softness of the wood. I will let it rot naturally but not just standing here where it could fall and kill something" He spread his hands and approached the tree. I could feel my own weakness and my knees wanted to buckle. The power I was seeing was too much to imagine. Jedrek grasped the the trunk and his fingers disappeared through the tough bark. He stood there for a second. I noticed his hands were placed on the tree at head height. He looked like he was going to push it over with his legs. Tree-trunk oak against trunk-tree legs. Then he spread his already huge back even more. His mountainous back expanded wider and wider. He was at least three times as wide as the tree trunk. Then he flexed again. His back creaked and shifted and grew even more insanely thick with power. I’m not sure what happened next. A huge roaring sound filled the forest. It seemed not to come from Jedrek but from everywhere and deep in the ground. There was a huge explosion. Dirt and stone and soil flew up from the ground around Jedrek. I ducked behind the log. A plume of dirt rose smokelike skyward and billowed in the air. The dirt cloud hung there although pieces were falling all around us. I heard a rush of air and saw the enormous cloud being blown away with a puff from Jedrek's lungs. He stood there with a smirk on his face, his muscles pumped and throbbing, empty-handed. PIeces of dirt and twigs standing out against his pale skin. Where was the tree? Then my slow mind started to stumble on the truth as I stared at the ground between his legs. I could see a small tip of the tree coming up from the distorted ground between them. He had somehow pushed the tree the fullness of its height into the frozen forest earth. Jedrek strode away from the spot the sunlight glinting off his titan's body. He looked at the wood neatly stacked on one side and clapped his hands together with an enormous CRAAAAAAACK! as if to get rid of sawdust. The enormous sound crashed through the forest, knocking me off my unsteady feet. It was all too much, the exhaustion and Jedrek. I passed out on the forest floor. The Culling Part IV I woke up in the dark. It was soft and I had never been so comfortable in my life. I snuggled down into warmth savoring the comfort. Then I smelled the delicious smell of roasting meat. I sat up. I was in a small dark tent. Some kind of springy mat was under me and Jedrek's cloak had been thrown over me. I crawled out of the tent into the daylight. Jedrek was outside, unfortunately fully dressed, but the incredible bulging of his muscles still happily apparent under his clothing. Even after all I had seen, the shock of seeing a man so thick and massive almost stunned me again as I saw him walking around the fire. The ground was all filled in as if two trees had never stood in the middle of the clearing. Our clearing was bare of snow but that was the only sign of how the ground had been disturbed. I noticed a circle and several signs had been drawn in the ground around the tent. Near the circle was a small silver bowl with a few inches of water in it. Jedrek stood before the fire turning a spit with several large pieces of meat on it. It smelled heavenly. Jedrek looked at me and smiled, "Good day, sir! I'm glad you're up. That trip was rougher on you than I thought." I blinked in the light and gaped at the meat. "What's that?" I asked like the ill mannered peasant I was. "A bear fooled out of hibernation by the false thaw. He found me while I was working on the camp and decided to attack." He paused and I looked at sinews bunching and unbunching under the skin of his massive hands, hands that were capable of killing a bear with no weapons. "There is a lot of meat. I salted a bunch of it and hung it up some distance away. If we stay here long enough we'll have some decent provisions." I was overcome again by his strength but also wondered why I was here. He looked up seriously at me, "Gregor, we have serious work to do." He glanced into the distance, "The soldiers are almost here but we still have a little time. In your village, there is a witch. I felt her webs spun all over the place." "You mean Agnieska, the wise woman?" I asked, my mind struggling to keep up with his rapid shift of subjects. He rubbed his hands together with something like anticipation, "Ahhhh Agnieska, good. I have one her names. I would lay a wager that she frequently employs young girls and looks at you as if you were bear droppings she stepped in." "Betha works for her now and before there was a girl we called Twig, who ran away with Matthias several years ago. "Agnieska always looked at me as if I was something vile. But I think she liked me better than it seemed, because she took me in for special treatment and I was spared at the culling." Jedrek seemed to hate her and she had saved my life. He seemed to read my mind, "There is much you don't know, Gregor, about the nature of this Agnieska and many "wise women". That witch's magic is all over you and that magic did keep the pollen away during the culling. But she has no love for you Gregor. Rather she sees in you a path to power that her kind is usually denied." "I....I have no gift no power." I stammered. Jedrek walked over to me and looked me directly in the eyes. I noticed his eyes were green with flecks of gray in them. "Gregor, I am like you. I do not lust for the company of women. I am drawn to men. Some call it an obscenity, a perversion, an inversion. However this perversion is my strength, my power. Men like us are gifted. That is part of why other people fear us. You have a lot of potential. I know that witch saw that and wanted to use it." "LIke with Eoghan." I whispered the name. I had secretly dreamed that I would get that power, "But I'm not strong like you or him. In my village, I was one of the strongest boys but not strong like you." "Aaaaaargh! They teach you nothing," he spat and moved quickly and pulled the meat from the fire. He blew gently on the roasted meat and then slid the slightly cool hunk into my hands. I was ravenous and devoured the delicious roast in minutes. "We don't have much time, Gregor. However let me explain, men and women draw power in very different ways. Women work through the slow passive power of the earth. They often can redirect natural energies healing and withering that sort of thing. Their magic depends on a sexual purity for its greatest strength. A woman taken by a man loses much of her magical power. That's why so many witches hate men." "Men's power often comes from active energies like lightning and fire. Sexual activity only enhances their power. With men like us, Gregor, sexual activity wakens our power and intensifies it. There is much more... " Jedrek spun around quickly alerted to something, "The soldiers are approaching." 'What soldiers would dare chase you?" I asked disbelievingly. "That is a tale unto itself, Gregor. They are an elite force sent from a neighboring country and they have been tracking me for some time. I need to teach them and their masters a lesson." Jedrek began to pull off his tunic revealing his colossal physique, "I must be at my most defenseless when facing them." "You look scarier without your shirt," I mumbled in awe. "I think that was a compliment. My thanks, Gregor," Jedrek smiled and flexed his arm. The muscle jumped up and expanded to almost four times its already gigantic size with his casual flex. It was at least the size of five large morningstars. Jedrek carefully peeled off his leather breeches, revealing the massive long muscles of his monstrous legs. I felt awestruck at the canyons of muscle running along the front of those mammoth thighs lightly furred with his dark red hair. Each one was bigger than the girth of a large barrel and connected harmoniously with the rippling muscularity of his hamstrings. His calves stood out from his legs as if someone had halved the great summer melons and pushed them under his skin. He was standing in front of me clad only in his breechcloth; a study in intimidating size and strength. Once again the air steamed off his incredible body creating a halo in the sunshine. "I want you to stay in the tent Gregor." Jedrek's deep voice was gentle. "If something happens, you will be safe in there. I have drawn protections around it. If you want to watch though, " he paused and I nodded enthusiastically, "here is a bit of magic." He picked up the silver bowl and handed it to me. "When you want to watch, you need to hold this bowl in both your hands and think of me and you will see what I am doing." "I will return soon and answer more questions," he turned and walked away and I savored the sight of his massive body marching away from me. I scrambled into the tent and pulled the flap down after me. Nervously I stared into the bowl, thinking of Jedrek. The water clouded for a moment and then cleared, showing a section of the forest from overhead. I could also hear the sounds from the area. A bird was singing and I could hear Jedrek's familiar heavy tread approaching. 10 figures dressed in white moved silently disappearing at times into the snowy background. Jedrek entered the area and several of the figures sprang up in a blur of motion and threw star shaped metal disks at him. Before they could return to their hiding places, Jedrek's hands moved even more quickly, catching the objects and throwing them back. The stars sheared through the men's skulls with loud CRACKS! and kept moving without losing speed. One cleaved through three of the men and all three sank silently to the ground, staining the snow red from the gaping wounds in their heads. The first ten men were dead within seconds. More men moved around Jedrek in a silent circle. Two men cast dark wire at the giant pale red haired man while three others threw small swords at him. The wire was metallic and looped around Jedrek's chest and arms. The men started to run around attempting to fasten Jedrek's arms to his sides. But despite the pressure from the wire, Jedrek's arms moved as if nothing was tightening around them. He caught two of the swords and flung them back at the men, ripping through their chest cavities and causing them to fall. The third sword rammed into his side, but left not a mark on his muscular torso. The weapon fell to the ground bent by the impact to Jedrek's invulnerable muscle. Jedrek sucked in some air expanding his chest and snapping the layers of metallic wire. He exhaled and a small hurricane of air furiously whipped the two wire spinners into the air smashing their lifeless corpses against two of the mighty oaks which swayed dangerously in the instant storm. A net of heavy rope dropped down from above and several men instantly approached thrusting swords at Jedrek's net covered form and winding the net tighter and tighter to imprison him before he could respond. Seconds later, the net exploded into small pieces leaving Jedrek standing in an awesome full body flex. Every muscle standing ridged under his pale skin, his back jutting out from side to side, his amazing legs corded with slabs of muscle Just flexing was enough to completely destroy the heavy cables of the net into particles. The remaining thirty or so men all wearing light or heavy armor rushed in from all sides around Jedrek with all manner of weapons drawn. Bladed weapons ricocheted uselessly against his impervious muscularity blunted and bent. One warrior did manage to cut the breechcloth which fell to the ground exposing Jedrek's massive manhood which though soft was long enough to hang to his knees. In one smooth motion, Jedrek grabbed three men in each of his gigantic arms. They all resisted but for all their frantic and sometimes skilled motion it made as much difference as tadpole changing the course of a torrent in the rapids of a river. His motion was unchanged by their thrashing as he began to simply contract his huge arms and shoulders. There was a loud cracking noise and every bone in those men's torsos was shattered the men's bodies were visibly crushed. While he was quickly crushing the six men Jedrek gracefully pivoted on one foot and kicked out with his massively muscular leg, through 3 men's chests and decapitating one man with the arc of a single kick. Jedrek dropped the men, turned to the next soldier, grabbed each of his arms and tore them off his body. The man screamed blood shooting out of the sockets in a torrent and then fell instantly dead. Jedrek rammed the bones of the arms through several men killing them instantly and tossed the lifeless bodies aside with a flick of his wrist. The remaining soldiers were raining desperate blows with everything they had but with no effect on Jedrek at all. Jedrek ignored their fierce blows and brought his fists together in front of his mighty midsection and flexed his chest, its already humongous size violently expanded by, what looked like several feet of dense, rippling, impregnable muscle, decapitating eight men as it rammed into their heads with his unstoppable power. Their heads snapped clean from the bodies and burst like overripe berries as they smashed into the forest trees. Finally, the last two warriors he caught in his blood covered arms. Each man's head held between his forearm and biceps. Their hair was black and I could see the terror in their dark eyes. Jedrek began to whisper in a strange sibilant tongue to the men. They looked like they understood what he was saying for their eyes widened as he spoke. I wished I could also understand and suddenly his voice made sense to me. "With the smallest contraction of my arms my biceps will swell and obliterate your skulls and you will be dead," Jedrek hissed, "It is only through my self control that your heads remain intact. I am strong enough to crush you by accident. Feel the strength you never will have. Remember it and share it with your people. This is what all those who attack the men from Taiga will face. Your weapons are destroyed and your skills are useless. But I have given you life by not flexing my arm." Then he dropped the men. Like Eoghan before him, he made a sign in the air. Each of the men gasped as a shining gold sign drew itself on their foreheads. "This is my mark and all who see it will know you have met someone of power." Jedrek walked away from the men not looking back. I took in the view of the carnage. Over forty bodies of the soldiers lay in the bloody snow. The trees and plants all covered with bits of bone, pieces of hair and blood everywhere. The two soldiers looked around weeping for their comrades and started back to camp. The view in the bowl changed following Jedrek as he walked to the bed of a frozen river. He breathed in once again expanding his enormous chest, held the breathe for a moment and then let loose a blast of air that melted that section of the river. Within moments the solid river came back to roaring life. He walked into it, the water sizzling as the heat of his body met river, and let the water wash the blood off of his body. He walked out gleaming as the water to steamed off leaving his body clean and dry. I could hear the water pop and crackle as it disappeared. He turned toward the camp and I put the bowl down shaking from what I had witnessed. The Culling Part 5 I was staggering from the sight of the carnage. I felt my body reject the meat I had eaten earlier and I wretched the entire meal into a snow bank. I stood shivering in the snow feeling sick, not wanting to return to his shelter. "Are you alright, Gregor?" the deep voice sounded kind, gentle. I shivered when I remembered what that voice had said, how it had sounded. A large, heavy hand engulfed my shoulder. I started shuddering violently and uselessly tried to escape his grip. "What's wrong, Gregor?" he asked again, softer. I turned to face him, briefly noticing he was fully clothed, there was no outward sign of the slaughter, "Why did you kill all those soldiers? They were fighting for their lives and you were just having fun showing off." "Gregor, they weren't coming up here just to shake my hand, they were here to kill. Any one of them would have been fully satisfied to have my head on a pike." "But they could have spent all day swinging swords at you and no harm would have come to you. You just defeated a small army with no injuries. You could have spared them with no harm for yourself. We arrived here a day ago and it seems you have done nothing but kill." Some distant animal part of my brain was warning me that this was a mistake. Jedrek had saved me from a horrible fate with no bloodshed (I hoped) and this was rank ingratitude. But as much as I had loved the Eoghan story, actually seeing the carnage had fouled me. Jedrek did not look angry. "Gregor, you are seeing things with the eyes of a man who has not come to power. You will see differently when you are elevated." "If my mind changes that much, than I do not wish your elevation, Jedrek." I stared him squarely in the eye. Almost like I was daring him to close his fingers and destroy me. Instead he took his hand from my shoulder and faced me squarely, "I hope this helps you to understand. These men were sent by a man like us Gregor. He is part of the brotherhood as am I, as are you through our attraction to men. He needed to know he had sent a killing quest against one of the brotherhood in no uncertain terms. He will now lower the barriers to trade he had erected in his ignorance. The world is a harsh and brutal place and we need to keep our place in it." Some part of me wanted still to scream at him and wash the horrible sights from my memory. But as he had been talking I was thinking of all of Jedrek's kindnesses to me and, selfishly, my fate without him. Also, there was perhaps more that I did not understand, that made such a bloodshed necessary. I attempted a wan smile, "For all you have done for me, I owe you my trust," I said out loud but vowed to myself never to "elevate" if it meant slaughtering others. Jedrek's smile broke over his seriousness like the sun dawning, "For one so young, you are a good man. We have one last chore before leaving this place and we best finish it before the sun leaves the sky." "What do 'we' need to do today?" I asked fearfully. "Snap the tether, Agnieska has on you." he said, savoring the syllables of her name. "What tether?" I asked running my hand around my neck. "Your witch woman has done something she has thought of as very clever. She has developed a way to siphon off your power into her own and she's using your own life force to do it. In other words, I remove the spell and you die." "What do I do?" I asked going cold inside. Jedrek's softened a bit and he once again laid a heavy hand on my shoulder. "There are ways to break this that will leave you unharmed. Agnieska does not understand completely the nature of the bond that holds you both and she will pay." "You won't kill her, will you? I stand here thanks to her mercy." Jedrek spat into the snow, "You stand here thanks to her ambition and pride. However she did do something right, unintentionally. But she will still pay, I will try to keep the worst of her payment from her. Better than she wished on you Gregor. Now take off your clothes and bathe in the river. Return and sit here on the mat in the middle of this circle.". He pointed to a circle on the ground with a silver material lying in the center of the circle. I marched to the river. The current was swift and icy but I was able to stand it and the water cleansed me. Nothing in the forest seemed to move as I made my way back to the circle. Jedrek had his eyes closed and was singing softly under his breathe. I knelt onto the silver fabric and.... pain shot through every part of my body searing me like my innards were being held over the smith's fire. I tried to open my mouth to scream but could not move. I was seized in a perfect vise that would not let me make the smallest movement. I could no longer see the forest or Jedrek just a kind of boiling blackness that entered my being. Then all was whiteness and I longed to shut my eyes against the glare but could not and black tendrils were being pulled from my body. I could feel them pulling scablike from my skin. Ripping and tearing and then I heard a scream. Agnieska was running but the blackness shot at her ripping into her soft, elderly body flaying her. I heard a thundering then realized it formed words; it was Jedrek. "You sought a power that was not yours and now you must pay." The black tendrils from my body were now latched onto Agnieska, connecting us. She stared at me with naked hatred and loathing. Then as the tendrils thickened her face went white with pain. Tongues of blue flame burst on the tendrils and they writhed shaking both Agnieska and me. There was a roar and all was blackness. I was aware of the cold, the blessed cold of the snow as it fell on my body. I started shaking feeling raw and exposed. My eyes were shut but I could feel myself being picked up gently and I was put in a soft warm place. I slept. I woke up in the tent, my body was curled against Jedrek's back. It felt like warm marble but still it was solid and made me feel safe after what I had gone through. His breathing was soft and even. His back swelling slightly and pushing my body with each intake and then returning. I could hear the sound of the wind outside but the coldness could not get in to me. I snuggled in deeper and fell back to sleep. The next day we began hiking. Jedrek admitted to not being that familiar with this region but knew the correct general direction. We were traveling through the wilds and even though this land is rumored to be filled with the most dangerous animals, we saw only signs of their existence, none crossed our path. They know an even more dangerous animal has come to their territory, I thought looking at Jedrek's massive form. "Is Agnieska still alive?" I blurted out. "She lives and I was able to spare some of her power as a favor to you, Gregor. Although that small favor cost me something. I am recovered. She will experience a much longer penance." Jedrek's voice sounded regretful. "Thank you Jedrek once again. I hope I will be able to repay you." "We are in the brotherhood, Gregor. You will soon see what that means." I started to think of some of the things Jedrek had told me. Although some boys my age had been with the girls already, I was obviously not one of them. Jedrek had told me that sex was the path to the elevation. I had worried that Jedrek would take me just to awaken my powers and then I could be a better assistance. Something on the second day of walking must have alerted him to my thoughts for in the middle of a talk about tracking he broke off and stared me in the eye, "Gregor, while you are a comely young man, I do not deflower virgins. Also the power does not come through rape. It must be combined with desire, although I think that is not lacking in you." he winked and I was almost overcome by his rugged handsomeness, but kept in my mind about my vow to resist the elevation. Shortly after this conversation, we entered a canyon and hiked through it for another two days. The storms of the past days gave way to gentle sunshine and the day seemed warmer. As we approached the other side sheer unclimbable walls of hard stone rose in front of us. "I guess we need to travel back out of the canyon and find a way around this," I said my words echoing off the stone around us. "I have a faster way," Jedrek said with a mischievous grin. He stripped off his shirt and breeches revealing once again his amazing muscularity. This saved his clothes when his muscles expanded with exertion. He walked purposefully over to the looming face of the cliff. He seemed to peer intensely at the rock, like he was looking deep within the structure of the hard stone.I looked at the hardness of the stone and then the even harder and more rugged terrain of Jedrek's back feeling my organ respond by doing its own expanding and pushing against the rough material of my breeches. “Let’s break some off and look at it,” he suggested. He held his hand up to the rock and cocked his middle finger behind the tip of his thumb. This caused a large knot of muscle to writhe on his forearm. Then he flicked his finger at the face of the cliff. It sounded like a gigantic hammer slamming into stone, only much louder. A large patch of rock around the point of contact, was instantly obliterated and flew out as a cloud of dust, leaving a bowl of depression about 2 feet across. Leading out from the depression on the top and bottom was a jagged crack that extended down to the bottom of the face of the cliff and up about 15 feet over his head. Jedrek had seen a fault line in the stone and flicked his finger at the precise spot to cause the cliff to crack like glass. I audibly gasped into the stillness after the explosive sound in my disbelief at the power he had in one finger. Jedrek smiled at my reaction, his eyes wandering low enough to show me he was aware of my arousal. I felt myself blushing furiously. He turned back to the depression he had created with his finger and pushed his huge beefy arm into the hole filling the two foot wide hole. He extended his arm and could see the big striated horseshoe shaped muscle on the back of his arm start to flex bigger against the stone around it. The ground started to shake. Pebbles fell from above as part of the mountain began to break away. Jedrek was flexing his muscles…. Slowly. He was contracting the muscle and expanding it harder and expanding it some more, exerting millions if not billions of tons of pressure on one side of the crack with his flexed arm muscle. The crack got wider and wider, ever so slowly. Jedrek was giving Mother Earth a chance to adjust to his demands. To his stronger muscles. To his will. There was a thunderous BOOOM! The crack suddenly moved farther apart and the base of the cliff shifted abruptly also. Then he flexed his arm harder and the muscle expanded quickly and huge. A crack formed moving horizontally from the top of the crack above Jedrek's head traveled several feet and started downwards again some ten feet away from where he stood. The crack formed a large oval shape in the cliff fifteen feet high and and ten feet across at the bottom making up about a third of the entire cliff face. The entire one-third of the cliff face moved 2 feet. He had separated a huge block of stone from the rest of the mountain face. Jedrek relaxed his arm, that had just forced apart a chunk of a mountain. He walked to the corner of the slab, though ‘slab’ doesn’t really describe the mass of mineral he had broken from the cliff, and grabbed onto the huge chunk of mountain. His back and arms and legs exploded with muscle sinew and veins. With little effort, it seemed, he lifted and carried the half mountain out in the open where we both could see the enormous mass of stone fully. He kept pulling until the piece came out fully over a hundred feet from deep in the mountain. It must have weighed hundreds of tons and Jedrek just carried it out in the open. BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM! He dropped the monolith of stone by the side of the canyon where it flattened the ground underneath it. Jedrek again did not look like he was winded but his magnificent muscles were even bigger, he looked like he was maybe fully three times his normal size."You're not going to be able to put your shirt back on." I said in awe. "This is just a little pump I get when I use my muscles a little. It will go down eventually. But you will get a bit of a show before we get through this mountain. He gestured and his staff flew to his hand with a light blazing upon it. "Hold this," he said thrusting the staff into my hands, and he pulled on his large pack and started into the tunnel he had created. The back of the tunnel was jagged with rock from where Jedrek had wrenched the stone apart with his muscle flex. He shoved his thick fingers into the edges of the rock in front of us. CRRRRAAAAACK! CRRRRAAAAACK! The rock around the edges made thunderous noises and then Jedrek placed both his hands on the jagged rock at the end of the tunnel. I could see the muscle tension in his back, arms and legs as thick ropes of muscle stood out taught creating ravines muscle across his body. Jedrek shoved and there was a vast groan from the mountain around us as the earth gave way to Jedrek's superior power. Then there was a vast roaring sound as the whole of the rear wall suddenly shot away into the darkness. Jedrek's back had grown even more massive. In the half light from the staff he seemed to take up almost the full width of the cave and the rest of him was even more muscular. Vast mounds of muscle pushed up around his neck and his chest thrust out almost three feet in front of him. And his arms were bulked up bigger than several barrels and furrowed with veins. His legs so wide they pushed his feet out. He was a monolith of a man. I found myself once again spewing seed into my clothing but I was so awed by his power I was not even embarrassed. "We should be able to continue our journey now." said Jedrek.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 Revenge The bell rang for lunch after third period and I glanced nervously at the clock, hoping Mr Muldoon would dismiss us with the bell so we could go get our lunch. Merciless Muldoon didn’t like to be interrupted mid-thought though, and if he wasn’t finished with his science lecture when the bell rang he would make us wait. Eating into the precious first few minutes of the lunch period, and potentially causing me untold agony. It was all the more excruciating because it was the second to the last day of class of eighth grade. Soon I would be done with this ridiculous middle school and be off to my last summer before high school. Summer the only peaceful time of the year I ever got. Just when I thought he’d never shut-up, he made a final point about the principals of plate tectonics and gave us the usual nod that meant we could go. All of my classmates, hungry and eager, got up en masse to head to the door. I nearly wept in frustration as I had to wait for those ahead of me to empty into the teeming hallway. Then I was jostled by throngs around me as I made my way to my locker on the other side of the school. It took me dangerously near the gym, and the jocks who hung out there. Seventh and eighth graders who were bigger than me. I heaved a sigh and kept telling myself the same thing my uncle told me, I was just a late bloomer and I had a lot of growing yet to do. My mother’s brother was a bear of a man and strong too, so I silently prayed he was right. From the locker to the cafeteria was easier to navigate and I realised I was probably too late, but I’d encountered no difficulties and I figured I might escape. Just maybe. Please God if I can make it through today and tomorrow I would be free. Free of this school. And free of Billy Nickerson until September. And high school was a big place with more activities. There was a good chance he’d forget about me. Well it might happen. Unfortunately he’d not forgotten about me in the five years since we’d met. I couldn’t imagine a worse bully in elementary school, but Billy went out of his way. Relentless. He turned everyone against me. And he was so perfect. So beautiful. That’s what made it all the worse. My nemesis should be as ugly on the outside as he was on the inside. But Billy was so beautiful it hurt. I walked into the cafeteria. No sign of him. And then I felt myself fall forward. All my balance gone. I threw my arms out as the floor rushed up to meet my oncoming face. He’d tripped me. “Let me help you,” I heard him say. A distinct chuckle in his voice, as I felt him slap hard on my back. “Dickwad,” he added under his breath. I felt myself hoisted more by his powerful young arms than by my own much smaller ones. “Aren’t you gonna say thanks?” he mumbled as he pushed me forward. And then he kicked me. “What was that for?” I grumbled. Despite myself I was getting angry. He never picked on anyone else although we had a whole chess club that were more deserving. I turned to face him and felt another kick. “What?” I said turning to face Billy’s best mate Cory. Cory was a follower, not a leader. And he did his master’s bidding like a faithful dog. As I turned I felt yet another boot, this time from their mate Joe, connecting even harder. And the force of the kick actually pushed me into Billy’s arms. He bragged about his prowess in karate, football and little league, and I felt his strong arms wrap around me. A bear hug in fact. There was some laughter and I realised that our audience was growing as others in the lunch room turned to watch the sport. “You shouldn’t ask for it,” he informed me. I realised then what had happened. What I had on my back. I pushed away from Billy as hard as I could and reached behind me feeling for what must be there. Sure enough as I pulled off the piece of notebook paper taped to my shirt: Kick Me it read. It wasn’t even particularly original. But I was mad. I never got mad. “Take it!” I snarled. Shoving the paper in Billy’s astonished face. I never stood up to him. The paper fluttered to the floor just as a lunch lady walked over to where our gathered group. Joe and Cory made a hasty exit, but Billy was on the other side of me. He had nowhere to go. “What is going on here?” she asked us. “Just playing around.” Billy turned on his charm, but Mrs Simmons wasn’t having any of it. She was one of the few people who had noticed how much I’d been tormented. She was a good woman, and lived in my neighbourhood. “Doesn’t look like it. Why don’t you pick up that paper before I send you to the Principal’s office?” “But it belongs to him,” Billy said, a whine in his voice. He probably couldn’t believe he’d met someone who didn’t buy his bullshit. “I doubt it.” Billy stared at her, at first sweetly, but soon as a contest of wills. He knew he couldn’t win this one. Mrs Simmons had power over him. And he wasn’t going to tempt fate so close to the end of the school year. “Don’t make me ask again.” With every muscle in protest Billy bent over and grabbed the paper, crumpling it in his fingers until it was wadded into a tight ball. “Now you’ll apologise.” Billy looked at her in shock and disbelief. “Go on….” Her face and posture indicated she’d brook no argument. “I’m sorry!” It came out practically as a protest. Literally pried from his jaws. Knowing what was expected of me I quickly replied. “I accept your apology.” Billy’s face was actually turning a shade of red. “Now you two shake on it like men and let bygones be bygones.” Mrs Simmons was old school. But if she thought this would make things easier or help Billy to move past his transgressions, she had another thing coming. I gulped. But for Billy it was in for a penny, in for a pound. He eagerly stuck his hand out. And now I’d look like the ungrateful one if I didn’t shake it. Gingerly I took his hand. I didn’t even have time for a proper grip when I felt him wrap his fingers round my hand and squeeze. “Let bygones be bygones,” he muttered with no enthusiasm. The pressure was so intense I nearly screamed. “Good, now both of you get about your business.” Billy released my hand suddenly, and I almost cried out as the blood rushed back into it. My hand was shaking. Mrs Simmons walked slowly away, satisfied the incident was at an end. “Just wait dickwad,” he said venomously. “This isn’t over. I’m going to make you suffer. I will fucking kill you.” My eyes must have held pure terror, but Billy stared at me. Really stared at me. I’d never heard someone my age use the word fuck before. It scared me as much as the intensity in his eyes. I knew I was going to experience pain. And pain came. Like the inevitability of death and taxes. I’d agonised all the rest of the day, fortunate we’d finished all our principal school work. The next day, a half day should have been easy but it wasn’t. I’d not slept much and as I turned in my books for the semester and tried to sneak off to my locker before heading to the bus, Joe and Cory found me near the gym. “Where you going?” “Uh….” I didn’t think a response was expected. The fight or flight response rose up, and Joe put a firm hand on my shoulder before I could attempt to run. “Why don’t you join us behind the school?” “W-w-why?” My teeth were chattering. Cory looked genuinely sad for a minute. He shook his head. “C’mon let’s not keep him waiting.” They pushed me to the track field behind the gym. I say pushed, but they practically carried me as I wasn’t inclined to go with them. My legs didn’t want to work. And it seemed like the whole school was there. The staff had been as eager as the students to get out there for the day. And it was pretty empty. I knew there would be no last minute saviours. One small consolation was that it was mostly the guys though. Even the girls found this sort of thing distasteful. But there were some of them there anyway, all of the faces of the crowd excited in anticipation of the humiliation of another human being. I’d have run if I could but the circle closed around me as soon as Joe pushed me to my knees in front of Billy. Pushed my face into Billy’s crotch as the boys howled with peals of laughter. It sounded remote and tinny in my ear. Empty white noise. And then the real humiliation began. The punches, the kicks. Billy was creative in his torture. It wasn’t enough to strip me down to my underwear. Or draw obscenities on my body. No, he forced me to do acts that were more despicable than that. So bad I cannot quite remember. And as the darkness of the early summer night descended, and the memory of their hands on my body had faded somewhat…at least enough for me to remember where I was…I got up and pulled on my torn clothes. I didn’t speak of my humiliation to anyone. I didn’t speak at all. I lost my mind for a few hours. But I remembered myself in the morning. And I headed over to Mrs Simmons’ house. She lived close, and we knew their family growing up. Mrs Simmons had been good to my mother who was a single mother raising a son on her own. I stood on her porch, looking at the door. I was nervous to ring the bell, but I’d promised myself I'd never be nervous again. I rang the bell. After a few minutes she ambled out to the door. The inside door was open already and she pushed the screen door open and took a look at me. I knew how I looked. To my everlasting shame I knew what a sight I was in. “You’ve looked better.” That’s all she said. “Is Toby here?” “In the garage.” “Thanks.” I walked back to the garage, and knew her eyes were on me. Toby was in the garage working on his truck. His shirt was off and the bronzed muscles of his back bunched as he leaned over the exposed engine. Rock music came from the radio and a few beads of sweat rolled down his skin. “Hey Toby.” I thought the sun rose and set in Toby’s footsteps. To me he was amazing. Eighteen, local football hero. And the very model of gentility. He was the biggest guy I knew. And I knew he went to the gym. He had to for football. He turned to look at me with a smile on his face. “Hey little man.” Then he caught the scowl on my face and the rest of the bruises. “What the hell happened to you?” My mouth spilled out the story before I could help myself. It felt so cathartic. Toby just leaned against his truck until I finished. “We’ll little man I had no idea. Why didn’t you say anything before now?” He looked at me, but it wasn’t a question I knew how to answer. His gaze was serious, but not harsh. It was appraising and I could see the wheels turning behind his eyes. “There’s only one thing for it little man,” he told me. “Yeah?” I asked hopefully. “Yep. You just gotta become a bigger and badder motherfucker is all. You gotta become tougher than anyone who can do this to you. That’s all there is to it.” He walked over and wrapped his strong arm around me. His bicep cradling my shoulder, my head against his pec. He was so warm, so safe. “No one can ever be there to protect you all the time. No one except for yourself. Understand?” I nodded. I thought I knew what he meant. “You’re gonna join the gym little man. Don’t worry I’ll help you.” * * * To this day I often wonder if Toby knew what he’d set in motion that day. No, what I set in motion by going to see him that summer day. But whatever he thought I surpassed our wildest dreams. From the first time I curled a dumbbell. When Toby instructed me on form. How to eat. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced. That shot of testosterone from my balls. By the time seven weeks later when I blew the candles out on my fourteenth birthday cake I had blown his mind. How do I describe what it felt like? The feeling of growing. To see your shirts shrink. The muscles that you never knew you had. As my chest deepened, my balls and dick grew, and I felt finally like a man. I’d gone from one-hundred ten pounds soaking wet to one hundred forty in seven weeks. And puberty had well and truly hit as my mother complained I’d eat her out of house and home. Yet she clearly wanted me to succeed. The look of horror on my face as I came in that night was etched in my mind. She'd seen me humiliated. Everything I’d felt was reflected in her worried expression. It broke my heart more than anything. And I was not going to be that guy. I was not going to be picked on. And by the end of summer I had consumed every bit of food I could find. Not an ounce of it was fat on my body. Each bite became pure, dense muscle. I’d lifted every other day with Toby at first, but soon it was six days. My body screamed for it. I realised by the beginning of August that I was stronger than Toby. His max bench press was three hundred pounds. He patted me on the back the day I repped that five times in a set. But the end of the month I could press six hundred pounds. We no longer lifted together. He couldn't keep up. Was I a freak? I guess I was. My strength was always phenomenal from the very first. Did it trigger the puberty and the growth or was it the other way around? Was it my deep anger and burning desire for revenge that changed me? I don’t know. I may never know. I just know I found something out about myself that summer. There was something in me that needed to come roaring out. And who was I to deny talent? The more iron I lifted the more muscle I put on. I could feel it in every one of my old shirts. Feel the fabric as it bent around my muscle, trying to contain me. When I discovered that I could stand in front of a mirror and raise my arms, slowly, and flex. Letting a bicep stretch the sleeve. Letting it tear, the seam trying to hold it together, but failing. Squeezing each muscle, legs pulling my shorts apart. The feeling the fabric tear up my back and I squeeze it out. Tighter and tighter. There had never been a summer like it. The day before it was time to start ninth grade at one hundred and eighty pounds I caught my reflection in the mirror. I hardly recognised myself. My face was broader, jaw firmer. My neck pulled at my new shirt, just bought by my mom from the men’s section. And with secret pleasure I knew it was a large. I would tower over my classmates. I looked more like a senior than a freshman. A muscular senior at that. That day I skipped the gym. I went instead to the construction site where my uncle worked. They’d all taken off for lunch and the place was empty. I figured I’d wait. Toby had left for his university placement. We’d not spent as much time together since I started to out lift him a month before. But we still respected each other. I knew Toby was a little bit scared of me. I’d always be grateful to him, and made sure he knew that. Looking down I saw some empty pipes lying on the ground. I glanced around but no one was there. Then I grinned as a thought occurred to me. It was solid and heavy in my hands as I picked one up. Good quality plumbing pipe. With both hands around the pipe I pulled it. I felt my muscles contract and grunted. The more I exerted myself the more powerful I felt. Then the fucking pipe began to bend, groaning as it failed to resist my muscle. I squeezed it, forcing a most muscular. My shirt dampened and I felt it tug tightly. I felt it strain. A new fucking shirt. Men’s large. But I couldn’t stop now. There was no way. A few minutes passed and I bulged in my shirt, before I felt sleeves tear. The pipe finally curled, taking on the shape of V before I bent it further, not stopping until the ends touched. I exhaled happy and satisfied as I tossed the pipe back in the pile. Let them decide themselves what had happened. At that moment I knew nothing was ever gonna best me again. I was gonna keep getting bigger and stronger. In hindsight I wish I could say that I hadn’t terrorised Billy as much as he had me. That I’d been a better person. But I wasn’t. That first day of ninth grade, as I lifted him over my head and he wet his pants, I knew I’d won. And anything he ever had I would take from him. If he was a star on the football field, I would overshadow his glory. If he found a girlfriend I would fuck her so hard she was ruined forever for Billy. He could not escape my wrath. But wrath is a sin. Within less than a year of my first day in the gym I was benching tons and curling single handed twice as much as other men could squat. My own pride and cockiness was spiraling out of control. I was on a path to destruction. I nearly succumbed. And I would have succumbed if I hadn’t met Mack. * * * “He has to have it Mack.” “No!” said an agonised voice. “He wouldn’t want it!” I heard the voices arguing in the middle of my stupor. I didn’t understand all that was said. They were droning. Like flies. The world was darkness, but I realised it was because my eyes were closed. My whole body screamed with pain. “This is what I warned you about,” the first voice continued. “We knew what Fong was up to. We can’t allow it to happen.” Was that Myles? Where was I? What had happened? My chest rose with a breath and the pain racked up my body. I was too numb to express it. “Please….” Was that Mack? I’d never heard him like that before. He was almost pleading. “No, it must be done. That is obvious now.” I heard something like a tapping. Like a fingernail on plastic. What was that noise? What was wrong with me? When was the last time I’d felt like this? The last time had been that summer night of humiliation. A humiliation I had promised myself I’d never endure again. It all came roaring back to my addled brain then just as I felt the pinch of the needle slipping into my arm. Then Myles depressed the plunger and I felt real pain.... Read the Next Part

Part 1 Working for a Living This one is for Londonboy and SS, who always inspire me.... I need money, same as the next man. Ain’t no different in that respect. And we all know there’s a lot of ways for a man to make some cash. And for men like me in particular some of those ways were honest, and some less so. Some within the bounds of the law, and some a little further afield. There was the possibility of takings from the competitions on the Circuit of course. A winner’s pot could be pretty good. But I’d only won one of those so far, and I hadn’t made nearly as much money as I thought I would. The people who really won and lost a fortune on the Circuit were those folks who gambled on the challenges, and the bookies. And I was an upset that had lost some people a lot of money. So I wasn’t that popular with those folks at the moment. They’d love me well enough when they saw more of what I could do though. One could also turn to selling sex, but that was beneath me. Although there are many other ways to prostitute yourself, and some were more enjoyable than others. When I was younger I’d assumed there were dozens of muscle loving billionaires just waiting to throw cash at me. Boy, was reality a wake up call. If such men existed, I’d never met them. And I was pretty sure that most guys like that weren’t actually into muscle. However, billionaires aside, there were still plenty of men with enough money who wanted an opportunity to worship my body...and pay handsomely for the privilege of watching these young muscles flex. I didn’t want to do it at first, but I’d needed the money. And as I became more well known on the Circuit, I started to receive more offers, with the assurances that more would be forthcoming. Now I’d kind of grown to like it, especially for the requests to demonstrate my strength. Muscle is nice, but muscle without power is just for pretty boys who want to look good. And I wasn’t one of those pathetic pussies, that’s for damn sure. College was likely to be out of the question. And I wasn’t joining the military. Men like me kept a low profile. And in return people wrote off the activities that we got up to. But even with lucrative offers to show off my abilities, and the occasional competition winning, I still needed money to pay the bills. My lifestyle did not come cheap. First there was the food. In one day I could eat enough to feed three superheavyweight bodybuilders in a week. That’s a lot of meat. A lot of carbs. And a lot of vegetables. Try having a food bill that comes to several thousand a week. Not pretty. And then there were the clothes. I was far too big to fit anything ready to wear off the rack. There just wasn’t a chance in hell. This was made worse by the fact that I had a tendency to go through my wardrobe awfully quickly. Plus I was still a growing boy. So even with a significant volume discount, my tailor was getting rich quick. I suppose I could have relied on the kindness of strangers. Been a kept man. Or used my muscle to help motivate money in my direction. But I wasn’t like that. A real man needed to support himself. And I was going to do that. To help make ends meet, my buddy Mack had hooked me up with a job in his security firm. Truth be told, Norman “Mack” McKenzie was more than a buddy to me. He was like an older brother. Actually, he was more like a father. A man I always had time for. Formerly a major in the British SAS, Mack was a Scot, and a cock-swinging commando that had been good enough to take a cocky, troubled young muscle head like me under his wing, and show him the ropes. I owed him a big debt. A serious debt. But that’s a story for another time. Mack’s firm represented all segments from politicos to underworld gangsters. As long as they paid well, and didn’t run afoul of Mack’s particular brand of ethics. So I knew when I took one of Mack’s jobs, that I would be able to respect the person I was protecting, and respect myself. One of Mack’s best clients was Myles Boudreau. He spoke like he was from one of the southern states, but I always found his accent a little hinkey. I suspected it was affected. He could have been from anywhere, but he’d adopted the persona of a southern gentleman. Mr. Boudreau was into trade. He obtained things for people. And took a cut for himself. More and more lately he’d taken to asking only for me. Even though I was only 18, and by all accounts inexperienced, and lacking the kind of specialist military training that Mack’s other operatives had. But I knew why he wanted me. I was a tank. And Mr. Boudreau had seen me in action. Since that incident, he’d never asked for anyone but me. And I looked every bit the part I knew was expected of me, as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was clean cut, and very well tailored. I tugged at the collar, feeling the fabric pull at my bull neck. The silk tie knotted tightly against my Adam’s apple. Mr. Boudreau had tailors fly in from all over the world. Usually direct from the designer. Over the months that we’d been working together, he’d had Hugo Boss, Armani and other names even I recognised make me some fine clothes. Trouble is I kept outgrowing them. Or inadvertantly destroying them. The suit I was wearing now was one such example. Since I’d been to The Snake Pit a few weeks ago, I found I’d grown some, and I was having trouble buttoning up the suit. It also felt unusually tight around the shoulders. Still Mr. Boudreau never complained. He wanted me to look a certain way, and I had no objection. My phone rang. I picked it up, and without even waiting for a hello, I heard my instructions. “Understood. On my way.” Mr. Boudreau stayed only in the finest of hotels, and I walked down the hall, well aware of how much space I took up, until I arrived at his door. I knocked. Kyle Palmer opened the door, an iPad in hand. “Come in.” This was Mr. Boudreau’s personal assistant. And I suspected he might also have been a lover too, given the fact that both men were gay. I walked into the suite. Even with the double doors, I had to turn slightly to avoid scrapping the doorframe and damaging my new suit. “So you had a Brazilian last night, and her boyfriend,” Kyle remarked. Kyle was referring to a little distraction I had found for myself off the clock. He was well informed. Very well informed indeed. I filed that away for future reference. It was obvious that information was Mr. Boudreau’s stock and trade, and Kyle was clearly a valuable asset. “Even I get lonely sometimes Mr. Palmer.” “I doubt that. And please call me Kyle.” My gaze was impassive. And like any good security specialist, I seldom smiled. This was business. Not pleasure. “I’m afraid I couldn’t do that sir.” “Are you ever off the clock?” “The Brazilian and her boyfriend should be able to answer that question.” “Touché!” he said, laughing. “Myles will be ready in a jiff.” I stood tall, waiting. I cut a very imposing figure indeed. And Kyle regarded me with open interest. He made no secret of what he wanted. It was written in his eyes. I suppose I could have fucked him. But I considered it unprofessional to fuck the boss, or his assistant. Kyle would just have to learn to live with disappointment. “Good, I see we’re all ready to go,” said Myles, looking absolutely immaculate. If my time was my own, and money wasn’t the issue, I wouldn’t have minded breaking Myles and forcing him down onto my cock. Rich or not, he was beautiful. Truly beautiful. I wasn’t bad looking either, I knew that. Most people remarked on how handsome I was. But I didn’t have the face of an angel like he did. A face that looked like it had been painted by a renaissance master. I would almost have broken my own rules for Myles. Almost. “This should be a simple job,” remarked Myles, as Kyle slipped an expensive cashmere coat on over Myles' suit jacket. “We’re going to acquire some product, and pay some money in exchange.” He indicated a case. And I picked it up. I assumed it was cash. But it wasn’t my place to ask questions. Mack had already gotten briefed, and he’d told me what I needed to know. We walked to the car. Parked in the garage. It was a BMW. Myles got in the back, and I climbed in behind the wheel, a bit unsuccessfully I might add, but finally squeezing in. It was hard for me to fit all my size inside such a tight confined space. “Don’t you ever get cold?” he asked me. It was a chilly day. “No,” I said. “I rarely ever get cold. I have a lot of natural body heat.” We drove off in silence. Myles usually didn’t attempt small talk, if anything he would be working – either on his phone or his iPad. I on the other hand was not paid to chit chat. So it worked. Soon we were at our destination. It was an old parking garage, three floors up of course. And I wondered if this could get any more cliché. Before we got out, Myles grabbed my thick shoulder from the rear. “These aren’t exactly trustworthy people,” he warned me. “Be prepared for anything.” “I always am sir.” He looked me in the eye from the reflection of the rear view mirror, and knew I spoke the truth. We got out, and soon another two cars pulled up. People began to get out of cars. A smaller, Asian man. An Asian lady. And four men that were obviously hired muscle. Presumably with guns. I carried a gun too, of course. But I rarely needed to draw my weapon. The biggest of the muscle looked me over. A big man, and thick. It was possible he could have been one of the guys from the Circuit, and I marked him for closer inspection. I was less impressed with the other three guys, as they were clearly military, but I doubted they had the balls to take me on. The big guy growled a warning low in the back of his throat, and flexed his shoulders and arms. I stifled the urge to laugh. If any more testosterone started flowing, I wouldn’t be surprised if we didn’t all start sniffing each other’s crotches like dogs. Well, maybe later, I thought. The big guy looked pretty good to me, and his trousers hugged his ass in a very pleasing manner. I wasn’t going to show him my interest though. Quite the opposite. Crossing my arms, I stood there, letting him see exactly what he was up against. And my arms strained the suit to breaking point. The Asian man said something to the woman. It could have been Chinese or Japanese, I wasn’t sure. But it sounded foreign and from the other side of the planet. “Do you have the money?” she asked. Clearly this woman was his translator. Myles had earlier taken the case from me, and indicated it in his hand. “Do you have the formula?” he responded. “Of course,” the woman told us, after a brief exchange with her employer. “But first we examine your American dollars.” “It’s all there,” said Myles. And he handed it to one of the men who approached him. We were a lopsided group. The six of them. The two of us. But I was fast in a fight, very fast. And I surveyed the movements of the others, prepared to jump into action. The guard took the case, and looked at the money. “It’s all here,” he said. Then the other guards all pulled out their guns in one smooth synchronous move. “What is this?” asked Myles. He didn’t seem as surprised as I was. Wasn’t this all supposed to be a casual, easy exchange? I had drawn my weapon anyway at the first sign of trouble, and moved closer to Myles. “This is the part where you find you’ve been double crossed,” said the man in heavily accented English. Apparently he learned languages very quickly, or the woman had been some kind of elaborate, and if I may say so, unnecessary ruse. “My client will be most upset not to acquire the formula he paid for,” remarked Myles. “Do you have it with you Fong?” “Of course,” replied Fong smugly. “But it is bound for the actual buyer. He was willing to pay more. Good bye Boudreau.” He and the woman and two of the guards got into a car, including the really big guy. The other two men got into the other car, but before they left, the guard took aim at Myles and fired. I ducked in the way, pushing Myles aside, and felt the sting of the bullet against my deltoid. The men raced away in their car. “Are you all right Mr. Boudreau?” I hollered, getting up, as the car tires screeched away. “Yes,” he breathed. “Don’t worry about me. Get that formula!” I leapt into action, ignoring the stinging sensation from my shoulder. The cars were currently on the third level, headed down. I ran to the edge and looked down to where an exit ramp opened down onto the next level. As I heard the cars approaching, I leapt down. Landing in a crouch in front of the oncoming car. I braced myself, and put my hands up as he raced straight at me. The car connected with my hands and I pushed. These were the same muscles that had lifted sixteen tons worth of hummer trucks up into the air, and they weren’t about to be stopped by a black Audi sedan. The driver realised that he’d stopped moving forward, and in a panic he floored the accelerator. Flooding the engine. I could feel the pressure of the car as it tried to move forward, and I applied a similar amount of pressure to keep it in place. Testosterone and adrenalin roared through my veins like a howling dragon. And I felt myself come alive with the challenge. I pushed again, and this time the car actually moved backwards. I took a step forward. Then another. A third and final step brought the rear bumper of the car into direct contact with the front bumper of the car carrying Mr. Fong, and the precious formula we’d spent so much for. Fong was trapped unless he could get past the car in front of him. And me. The power flowed into my veins, and they pumped the muscle up. I felt my strength flow like a wave. Muscle swelled, engorged with blood, and the back seam of my new suit ripped apart as my lats expanded with the pressure. I felt my neck straining, as the thick cords of sinew and meat pulled against the button of my shirt. Popping the buttons, and forcing the knot of my tie to loosen as well. The roar of the engine excited me. And the car carrying Fong rammed the car I was holding back, trying to force it forwards. Despite my best efforts, my shoes lost some traction with the smooth cement, and I could feel myself sliding backwards. The rubber from the ties stank, as they spun. And soon Fong’s car tires were spinning also. My cock swelled. Big, proud and magnificent. I couldn’t stop it. Didn’t want to. It tore through my briefs and the zipper of my trousers and stuck out in front of me like a battering ram. I was so excited, that I pulled the car onto my cock. And I felt myself impale the grill of the car and the metal underneath. Hot and oily fluid spilled onto my cock, and clothes. And I started moving the car back and forth. The men inside finally realised they still had guns, and I felt them fire into me. The bullets stinging, as I roared my anger. My cock was momentarily forgotten as I began to tear the car apart. And seeing that the bullets hadn’t stopped me, the two men wisely gave up, got out of the car and started running. I let them run. Little pussies. They weren’t worth my time. I tore the car apart until it was in two halves. And then I picked them up and tossed the remains of the vehicle to the side. It didn’t weigh much more than some of those makeshift dumbbells had at the Snake. Fong’s driver now realised that perhaps he wasn’t going to get through me. So he wisely chose the only option available to him. Reverse! What he didn’t reckon on was me. Before he could go anywhere, I grabbed the front of the car and pulled it to me. If I’d had an insane pump before, it was beyond the pale now. My sleeves ripped apart as my biceps tore their way out, needing space. And I knew to Fong and the others that I must look like a white, even more jacked version of the Hulk, as my quads burst through the seams of my trousers and my traps and shoulders shredded the suit jacket. “Where. Do. You. Think. You. Are. Going?!” I growled, punctuating each word as I compressed the front of their car into a smaller and smaller heap of metal. The engine died, and then I slammed my fist into the hood, literally forcing it into the concrete floor, which cracked and accepted the intrusion I forced upon it. The people in the car tried to get out, but I stomped on the car for good measure which crushed the doors in. Leaning over it, I tore open the roof. The big guy had his gun out. But I grabbed it from his shaking hand and squeezed it, the metal crunching. Then I pulled the big guy out after that. My grip firm around his throat, holding him in the air, over the car. “I would like the case please, Mr. Fong,” I said. Sweat ran down my exposed pecs, stained with oil and grease from the engines. He handed me the case with Myles' money, which I tossed aside. “And the other one,” I said. When he hesitated, I rattled the car, rocking the floor beneath. The cracks in the concrete spread further. The woman handed me the case, and Fong scowled at her. I didn’t care, I pushed the roof of the car back down, trapping them, and I pushed it further down for good measure to make sure they didn’t escape. Myles came walking up to the car then. “Impressive,” he said, surveying the damage. “I will be giving Mr. McKenzie my highest compliments on your service.” “Thank you sir.” I handed him the case, and he gripped it like a treasured possession. “You seem to have torn your suit,” he remarked as an afterthought. Barely any of the suit was in fact still clinging to my body. “Sorry sir.” “Don’t worry about it. Are you all right?” There was genuine concern in his voice. “Yes, sir,” I said looking at him. “Thank you for your concern. But it will take more than some bullets to dent me sir.” He nodded. “Please keep the money as a bonus for your efforts.” “Thank you sir!” I said, genuinely pleased, and permitting myself a grin. “We have some time before we need to be back.” I raised my eyebrow in question, but it was clear what he meant when he indicated the man I still held in my hand suspended in the air. A man who was even now struggling to breath. “I’ll wait for you in the car. Take as long as you need.” Myles turned to leave, clutching the case. And I turned to the big man and smiled. Cock hard. Read the Next Part