Oobistoe Posted July 16, 2020 Share Posted July 16, 2020 This is story has swept me away. One of my now favorites of all time. Thank you Maxum for writing it! 2 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Maxum Posted July 16, 2020 Author Share Posted July 16, 2020 Thank you, Oobistoe. I'm so glad you're enjoying the ride. I'll be returning to California this evening. Look for the next installment before my head hits the pillow tonight. 2 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mdlftr Posted July 16, 2020 Share Posted July 16, 2020 2 hours ago, Maxum said: Thank you, Oobistoe. I'm so glad you're enjoying the ride. I'll be returning to California this evening. Look for the next installment before my head hits the pillow tonight. P.S. I hope you're recovering well from your appendicitis attack of a few weeks ago! We want you HEALTHY! 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Popular Post Maxum Posted July 18, 2020 Author Popular Post Share Posted July 18, 2020 The Wall, chapter 17 “Gladiators in the Pit” I arrived at the Sportzdungeon at the appointed time. I was dressed in a navy blue hoodie and a pair of black sweatpants, chosen to camouflage some of my size. Magnus was going to get knocked off his perch this afternoon, and I didn’t want him to see what was coming until the last minute. Sven was behind the front desk when I walked in. He was an intimidating fucker, about my height, maybe 320 lbs, tattoos on his arms and his neck and the left side of his face, piercings too numerus to count and partially buzzed head that made it look like he had just had part of his brain removed. As a reminder that no one should judge a book by its cover, when Sven looked up and saw me, his scowl morphed into a broad, warm smile, and he stuck out his meat hook of a hand and greeted me warmly. “Maximus, I presume! Magnus said you would be here about now. He and his Neanderthal gang have arrived and are changing. I hear that you’ve challenged the king of the iron. He has the strength of more than one man.” He scanned me down and then up. “I trust you do, too.” Then he added, “You look too thin in the middle to handle big weights. I hope you will be careful. My two rules at the Sportzdungeon are that (1) everyone has fun and (2) no one gets hurt.” I flexed my pecs, and they rose like a giant wave under my hoodie. “I will be careful. I promise,” and then I added sarcastically, “…Moeder,” (Dutch for mother). Sven rolled his eyes, laughed and flexed a most muscular in reply. Impressive. He was hard not to like. Then looking beyond Sven I took in my first view of the Sportzdungeon. Not a dungeon at all, it was spacious and light filled. Sunlight flooded in through myriad of skylights two stories up, casting angular shadows from the high raftered ceilings. All of the equipment looked heavy and custom -- steel welded construction with saddle leather padding. It was beautiful, and there were racks and racks of giant dumbbells and plates. The numbers ranged from 10 to 100 kilograms (of course), approximately 22.5 to 225 in pounds. Spotting the 100 kg dumbbells, I began to get hard and shifted my gym bag to hide my reaction. Too late. Sven had seen my response. “You get hard for the iron. That’s good. I sense you will make a worthy opponent for Magnus.” Then nodding to the last pair of dumbbells, “Those 100s are property of the Sportzdungeon, but no one dares touch them but Magnus. Only he has the strength to press them. They are just 5kg shy of the dumbbell bench press world record. I have a larger set in the back, but even Magnus can’t handle those.” As I gazed at the huge dumbbells, my pecs started to tingle. Without lifting a finger, the pump had begun. Suddenly there was uproarious laughter coming from far back in the gym. Magnus and two other large men emerged from the locker room, laughing and jostling and slapping each other’s shoulders and backs. At one point I saw Magnus’s hand slip further south and squeeze the tallest and fairest man’s buttocks. All three men were powerfully built, the smallest about 6’1,” Magnus about 6’2” and the tall, fair one about 6’4”. All hovered close to 300 lbs and sported physiques that were more blocky than mine. Magnus was the leanest, and they all looked like a fun romp in the sack. Spotting me still in the entry with Sven, Magnus pointed and shouted, “Max! You made it. I didn’t know if you would actually show up. These are my friends Marten and Gustav. They also love iron. Sven lets us use his big toys. It’s nice here, yes?” “It’s unbelievable,” I said, winking at Sven. “ It looks like a cathedral for muscles.” Sven beamed proudly. “The we should worship,” said Magnus. “Get yourself changed, and we’ll begin with some warmups.” “No need to change.” Tugging the front of my hoodie, “This is what I brought with me, and I am ready to roll.” “Then we begin.” The warmup entailed a light jog around the local canals, a half mile at most, followed by individually pumping some light dumbbells and barbells just to get the blood flowing. Then some pull-ups and pushups, and deep knee bends and light squats. “Okay. If we are all warmed up, then we should begin,” Magnus said. “Marten and Gustav, I have challenged our new friend Max here to a test of our strength. He has accepted the challenge; so, I will let Max chose the contest.” I thought for a minute then said, “Let’s make it the best three big moves. Two out of three. Squats, weighted pull-ups and bench press.” Gustav and Marten looked at me with uncertainty. No one had ever gone up against Magnus on home turf, and they didn’t know if I was a real threat or merely a fool. My hoodie and sweatpants were masking my size, but I was still definitely the biggest man here… and maybe the strongest. “Multiple reps or single rep max?” I replied, “One rep max, but in the event of a tie of weights, the most reps at that weight takes the prize.” Max asked, “And the prize is…?” Sven interrupted the contest negotiations at this point and said, “Satisfaction. There are no winners or losers at my Sportzdungeon. The only rule is…” The other men all chimed in together, “Everyone has fun, and no one gets hurt.” Magnus offered his hand to me “Satisfaction?” I shook his hand and replied, “Satisfaction…” as we shook, and I added, “… and the weekend with Tom Baker, of course.” We started with squats, both taking quick warmup sets with 100 kg and 200 kg. Then the contest began. Since I had chosen the contest components, I insisted that Magnus lift first. Marten and Gustav loaded the bar with 400 kg, and Magnus pumped out six reps with ease. “I’ll stop here at 6 in order to reserve my strength. Unless you fail sooner than I anticipate, we will going much heavier.” I pumped out six easy reps. “Let’s move up.” Then we each made 6 reps at 420 kg and 4 reps at 440 kg, approaching the world record. By matching but not exceeding Magnus, the contest seemed evenly matched. I had a plan, and I had to be patient. At 450kg, Magnus only scored 2 reps. I matched him, feigning a slight falter on the first rep before driving it home and completing the second rep with full confidence. At 460kg , Magnus completed only 1 rep. He squatted down, pushed the weight up and then racked it. He did not attempt a second. We were at or nearing his limit. I matched him. One rep. Then I racked it. I could have done more, but I stopped. It was part of the plan. I stepped back from the bar, and I untied the drawstring on my sweatpants. Then I loosened the waistband and slowly pushed the pants down to my ankles. The motion was fluid and graceful. Underneath, I wore only a jock strap. As my ass and my thighs came into view, someone muffled a moan. I stood back up, and I wobbled my unflexed right thigh – 351/2 inches of relaxed, undulating muscle. Then I flexed it. Suddenly my thigh solidified into a column of immovable steel, expanding to nearly 40 inches of shrink-wrapped cuts and striations. Fuck I was huge! Then I transitioned into a side chest pose and rolled the flex of my glutes up and down. There was a gasp, and I smelled the faint scent of chlorine. Someone had cum. I wasn’t ready to destroy the whole lot at this point; so, I pulled up my sweats, and I re-tied the drawstring. Marten and Gustav added 10 kg more to each side of the bar, but Magnus waived out without even trying. “If you best me on this one, I’ll will still beat you on the others. I’m saving my strength.” “Then I’ll waive out here, too,” I replied. “We are still tied. The contest continues.” Sven, Gustav and Marten all seemed confused that I would fold without trying. From what I had just shown them, I had the legs to beat Magnus, but Magnus could see through my plan. “I understand, Max. You want to beat me where I’m strongest - the bench press. It would mean a true victory for you. You are a strategist.” Then he added, “Perhaps not a wise move.” “We shall see…” I replied We moved on to pullups. The horizontal bar was positioned 8 feet above the floor. A platform directly under the bar to provided access. Again, the goal was to perform a single rep of the heaviest weight, the one rep max, but the most reps at that weight could win in the event of a tie. We both warmed up with bodyweight resistance only. At our sizes, the task was already a challenge, and with me outweighing Magnus by approximately 100 lbs, my task was greater than his. However, there were no accommodations for body weight in this contest. I had indicated that only the weight added to our own poundage would count. For this part of the contest, it was my turn to go first. A 20 kg heavy gage chain was used to strap on the weights. Two 25 kg plates were initially added – a total of 70 kg hung from my waist and dangled between my knees. I stepped on the platform and reached for the bar. As I raised my arms, the hem of my hoodie rode up, offering a peek of my deeply cut abs. I was much leaner than any of my new friends, and I knew my tight, lightly-furred 10-pack was one of my sexiest features. Deep furrowed abs covered in dark downy hair that thickened in the midline was an aphrodisiac for me, and more swirling dark hair that spread wide across a massive chest capped the impression of power and virility. I flexed my abs subtly, exhaling my breath. I could feel the separations deepen as each muscle thickened. All eyes were set on my midsection and the big bulge beneath it. Only a portion of my abs could be seen, but I could tell by the foursome of burgeoning hardons that the effect was arousing. I tightened my grip and pulled myself up, touching my chest to the bar and completing one rep. Then I descended and hung there again, stretching my lats and considering my strategy. I started to perform rep number 2 but then reconsidered and lowered my feet to the platform. Magnus fastened the weighted chain to his belt and performed 2 reps at that weight without problem. Then I added 25 kg more. The total weight was now 95kg/209 pounds, near the record. I reached up and hung from the bar and then pulled. The move was controlled and deliberate. The weight and my body smoothly ascended until my pecs were an inch from the bar. I stopped at that point and held that position. I could feel the blood flow into my back and my biceps, making them swell and giving me the sensation of growing my muscles. My dick swelled in my pants. The inflow of the pump felt like a whole-body erection, and holding this pose in midair with weight belt pressing against my hard cock was driving me close to the edge. If I held out much longer I would cum in my pants. The urge was compelling. I could still feel my muscles expanding, and I was getting close to the brink. Just as I crested the peak of this foreplay, I completed the rep and then lowered myself to the platform. I didn’t attempt to perform a second rep. I knew I could do it. They knew I could do it. I could tell by the outlines of hard cocks in their pants. Magnus’s turn. He attached the chain and weights to his belt but didn’t reach up for the bar. Instead, he rested his hands on his hips and kept his eyes fixed on the platform. He was psyching himself up, considering the task. I felt him visualizing as he snorted twice like a bull. Then he grabbed hold of the bar and began pulling up. He made it half way without pause but then quickly started to slow. When he was within 2 inches of his target, his progress entirely stopped. For a second or two, I thought he would falter and drop, but then he mustered his last ounce of strength and brought his chest to the bar. Utterly spent, he dropped to the platform, and Marten and Gustav caught his crumpling body before he could fall to the floor. He was done. I considered my options. I knew I could do more. What I had already done felt so good, and my muscles ached for a challenge. Just looking at the weights made me horny again. The iron called, and I answered. I add two more 25 kg plates to the chain, now totaling 145 kg/320 pounds in all. Adding my own mass brought that number to about 700 pounds total. My body buzzed with excitement. Sven, Marten and Gustav were hard in their pants. Magnus was too exhausted to bone. I grabbed the bar and started to pull. Every muscle in my body tightened as my feet left the platform. My biceps bulged, and my lats flared. The hoodie stretched and complained, but it held. As I pulled on the bar, it bowed slightly and groaned from the weight. As it bent gently and my body rose up, my pecs and the lowest point of the bar’s curve met in the middle. Again, I held my position and increased my flex. My whole body erupted with strength as more blood flooded my muscles. God it felt good -- only marginally less than orgasmic. If I had held the flex longer, I would have certainly cum, but the bar groaned more loudly and began to bend more. So, I lowered myself and the weight to the platform. Only Magnus was spared an erection – exhausted, defeated, and apprehensive of what would come next. Gustav, Marten and Sven prepared the bench press for the final even. Magnus slid under the bar and performed single, perfect rep at 250 kg without visible effort. I matched him, the same. At 300 kg Magnus showed only increased conviction, and the bar smoothly lowered then rose without hesitation. Then I completed the 300 kg errand with ease. Then Magnus said, “I’m going to go for the record,” and Gustav and Marten loaded 50 kg more. The current world record for unassisted bench press (without a bench shirt) was 349kg/770lbs. If Magnus could press 350 kg, he presumed he would be the strongest man in the world, and he was sure 350 kg could beat me. The bar was loaded and ready. He sat on the bench and stared at his feet. Then he huffed and he grunted and maneuvered his body into position. His chalked hands sought their best place on the bar, he shifted his shoulders and pelvis until all was just right. Then, Sven, Marten and Gustav assisted his lift-off and gave him control of the bar. Magnus held it up for a second, and then, in a single fluid movement, he lowered the weight to his chest and then drove it back up. He locked out his elbows, completing the lift, and the other men quickly guided the bar back to the rack. Everyone broke out in shouts and cheers of victory and congratulations, slapping Magnus on the shoulders and back as he rose from the bench. They raised his hands high, celebrating his victory over the world record. Magnus broke out in an ear-to-ear smile and he shouted, “Ja, Ja, Ja!” and then the four men broke out into the Dutch national anthem. In that moment, Magnus was triumphant, the strongest man in the world in his mind, but his supremacy would be short-lived. After a few moments of celebration, all eyes turned to me. It was my turn to lift. I felt a pang of regret. I knew I could beat him, but Magnus was basking in revelry, and I did not relish the thought of spoiling his moment. Were it not for the wager, I would have gladly bowed out. I considered the dilemma. Would I be more of a man to defeat him or more of a man to stand down? The answer came to me quickly. I could tie him without topping his newly achieved record. I was already one event ahead, and a tie in the bench press would still result in overall victory for me, thus securing my weekend with Pup while still preserving Magnus’s ego and pride. I lay down on the bench and positioned my hands. I allowed the other men to assist with my lift off. Slowly I lowered the bar to my chest and then raised it back to the rack, locking my elbows and completing the lift. One rep. The contest was done, and cheers re-erupted. More slaps on the back. We were all winners. Although I had held back, I still thoroughly enjoyed the revelry of the moment and the brotherhood of the iron. But Magnus was upset by the outcome and threw me a curveball I never saw coming. “I think you are cheating.” He half shouted at me. I didn’t know how to respond. “Huh?” “What are the chances that we would both beat the world record with the same weight on the same day? The coincidence is preposterous. I am the strongest. So you must be cheating somehow.” I was perplexed and dumbfounded. He had seen me perform the lift on the same bench with the same weight as he had just performed. “What do you mean? How could I cheat? We lifted the same weight, in the same place, just minutes apart. We both win. We are even.” I offered a friendly, conciliatory smile. “No, we are not. I know I am stronger. There must be a trick. Perhaps your hoodie has some compression and works like a bench shirt. The world record for equipped bench press with a bench shirt is 501 kg. That’s 152 kg more than the unequipped bench press without. You have to be cheating” “Well, it’s a hoodie, not a bench shirt.” My rising anger could be heard in my voice. “Then prove it! Repeat the lift without your hoodie, or you leave in disgrace.” That did it. Now I was really pissed off. How dare he accuse me of cheating. I instructed Marten and Gustav to add 100 kg to each end of the bar, and then I started to slide into place. “Without the shirt,” Magnus said. He had purposely substituted the word “shirt” for “hoody,” further implying my dishonor. I started to argue but gave up that tact. Instead I embraced the opportunity to teach Magnus a lesson and put the arrogant man in his place. “I will if you will. You strip to the waist and I will as well. Then we both press this weight, and we shall see who is strongest.” Magnus pulled the shoulder straps of his singlet over his arms and rolled the upper half to his waist. Then he struggled free of the T-shirt he wore under, exposing his powerful torso and shoulders. He mockingly flexed a most muscular pose. He was impressive, indeed. He had the upper body of an off-season bodybuilder. His muscles were rounded and big, but he was soothed out from too much subcutaneous fat, and his abs were entirely hidden. Then he shrugged and motioned to me. It was show time. I had not anticipated removing my hoodie; so I had not worn a shirt underneath. Although it was a 5XL, the jacket still stretched tight across my chest. As I slowly pulled down the zipper, the front pulled apart in a deepening “V,” first revealing the dense, swirling pelt on my chest and then the deep cleft between the mass of my pecs. I stopped half-way down, just below the shelf of my pecs and let the size of my chest make a statement. Then I flexed my pecs hard, both together at first and then alternating them one at a time. The giant slabs of beef rose and fell in the erotic beat of a dance that rippled a from one side to the other. My audience looked like 4 hypnotized men, all staring slack-jawed and tenting their pants. Then I unzipped the hoodie down to my waist, and the front fell further open. I gently stroked the soft curls from the top of my sweats to my naval and then rubbed the palm of my right hand up my belly, flexing my abs until all 10 bricks appeared. My hand traveled north over the curve of my left pec. I moaned and gave it a squeeze. I found my left nipple with my index finger and thumb and gently twisted and squeezed until a shivers enveloped the rest of my body and converged at the base of my crotch. As I continued to harden, I adjusted myself. I started to pull the hoodie from my shoulders, but it gripped the pumped muscles so tight that I struggled. Nodding to Gustav and Marten, I asked, “Would you mind…?” They each took a shoulder and pulled the sleeves down my arms. Freed from my constraints, I stretched my arms high and then I let them fall to my sides as far as my wide lats would permit. Then I stood there, perfectly still, allowing my chest to expand and contract with my breath. The relaxed pose, my signature. I tightened my abs and flared my lats more. My arms rose up slightly, and I puffed out my chest. Someone whispered a “fuck,” and someone else whimpered. I reached across my wide body and grabbed my right upper arm with my left hand. Then I made a fist with my right hand and bent my right elbow slowly, allowing the muscle to swell. Passing 90 degrees, I flexed my right biceps fully, and the muscle further expanded, pushing my fingers higher and spreading them over the peak. “God, it feels good to be out of that sweatshirt.” Then I stretched my arms wide and arched my back slightly, stretching my pecs and allowing my arms to bounce slightly behind me. Then a quick double biceps followed by a modified most muscular pose. I rolled my pecs a few times, then flexed hard. “Does this work for you, Magnus? No more sleeves and no more tricks up my sleeves…” I looked at my arms and then flexed them. I sat down on the bench and then slid under the bar. It was now loaded with 550kg/1212lbs. Marten, Gustav and Sven moved to help me lift off, but I was ready before they could get in position. I raised the bar fully and then lowered it to my chest. I pushed the bar up in one driving motion and locked out my elbows, completing the lift. The men moved to help me rerack to weight, but I growled at them, “No!” and I lowered and raised it again, “Two!” and again, “Three!” My pecs and arms were on fire. I could feel the fibers tearing and rebuilding stronger with each lift. “Four!” Even more blood flooded into my chest and my arms. “Five!” The pump was insane. I could feel my pecs thickening as my dick danced in my pants. “Six!” When I reached seven reps, I slowed my pace down. At the end of the eighth rep, I re-racked the bar. My chest was on fire, now pumped to a size I never thought possible. I sat up and flexed my pecs hard. The flex felt like cumming. The muscles temporarily cramped, and cable-like striations danced in an orgasmic rhythm. When the muscles relaxed, I stood and moved into a side chest pose, rolling my pecs and adding a flexed biceps at my right side. Gustav sank to his knees, and Sven audibly grunted. Marten pulled his dick out of his pants in the nick of time and sprayed a nearby weight rack with cum before slumping to the floor. I grabbed Marten’s cum covered weight rack with my right hand, and curled it, plates and all, to my lips. I licked a big glob of semen from a 20 kg plate at the top of the movement and then flexed my left arm at my side. The sight was too much for Sven. He was the second to blow. It happened so suddenly that he came in his pants. He grabbed the uprights of a lat pull-down machine and ground his crotch into the weight stack, frotting the iron and delighting in the ecstatic relief of long pent-up frustration. Next I turned my attention to Magnus. His dick had hardened into a thick pipe that rose above his rolled down singlet, leaking a thick stream of precum. I looked to my right hand curled the loaded weight rack a few times. Then I turned to my left and raised my fist to my face and flexed my magnificent biceps into a giant peak the likes of which Magnus had never imagined. His cock pumped out another dollop of precum as he sucked in a sharp breath and stared in amazement. “Do you still think these muscles are just for show, Magnus?” I flexed my arm harder, and my biceps peak rose even higher. “You don’t really think that I was cheating, do you?” I extended and re-flexed my arm and then curled the loaded weight rack once more before setting it down. I stood to my full 6’6. “Just to be clear,…” I took a deep breath”, and I flexed my pecs and tightened my abs as I exhaled. “I am the biggest…” I flexed a front lat pose. “Strongest,…” Front double biceps. “MAN,…” Abs and thighs. “That you will ever encounter.” Side chest/biceps. “And I am bigger…” Side triceps. “And stronger…” Rear double biceps. “Than you.” On the word “you,” I turned 180 degrees and crunched down into a most muscular pose. I flexed hard, and then re-flexed again. Veins snaked over striations, and rivulets of effort dripped from my sweat covered skin. It was more than Magnus could handle, and his big cock went off like a cannon, shooting volleys of cum on my chest and my torso, glazing my muscles and strength with raw admiration. When he was finished, I grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat and cum from my chest and threw it more at him than to him. He brought it up to his face, inhaling my scent as his softening cock pushed out a final dribbling tribute. Then, I glanced at the clock and gathered my things. I was done here, and I had somewhere to be. As I walked out the door, I didn't look back. The only thing I could think of was Pup. 26 2 4 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ro20316 Posted July 18, 2020 Share Posted July 18, 2020 Magnus. You are an impressive, strong man but you messed up with someone who is better. Amazing chapter. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Jtchef2 Posted July 18, 2020 Share Posted July 18, 2020 Amazing amazing amazing 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
arpeejay Posted July 18, 2020 Share Posted July 18, 2020 DEE Liteful!! Thanks!! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mdlftr Posted July 18, 2020 Share Posted July 18, 2020 The work speaks for itself: ============================================== It was show time. I had not anticipated removing my hoodie; so I had not worn a shirt underneath. Although it was a 5XL, the jacket still stretched tight across my chest. As I slowly pulled down the zipper, the front pulled apart in a deepening “V,” first revealing the dense, swirling pelt on my chest and then the deep cleft between the mass of my pecs. I stopped half-way down, just below the shelf of my pecs and let the size of my chest make a statement. Then I flexed my pecs hard, both together at first and then alternating them one at a time. The giant slabs of beef rose and fell in the erotic beat of a dance that rippled a from one side to the other. My audience looked like 4 hypnotized men, all staring slack-jawed and tenting their pants. Then I unzipped the hoodie down to my waist, and the front fell further open. I gently stroked the soft curls from the top of my sweats to my naval and then rubbed the palm of my right hand up my belly, flexing my abs until all 10 bricks appeared. My hand traveled north over the curve of my left pec. I moaned and gave it a squeeze. I found my left nipple with my index finger and thumb and gently twisted and squeezed until a shivers enveloped the rest of my body and converged at the base of my crotch. As I continued to harden, I adjusted myself. ===================== Best prep description EVER! It made me think of Ahnuld talking about competing in "Education of a Bodybuilder." Magnus is like anyone "The Oak" ever faced! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mdlftr Posted July 18, 2020 Share Posted July 18, 2020 On 7/17/2020 at 3:42 PM, BigSteve6ft3 said: 323 pounds: MAYBE Josh is CLOSE TO what our hero looks like now! He weighs 380# at 6'6" so he outweighs Josh by 57#! Course, he's a fantasy, while Josh is real, but, anyway - Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
WrestlejockCT Posted July 19, 2020 Share Posted July 19, 2020 Well, that was DEFINITELY worth the wait! Wow! 1 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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