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  1. Hey everyone, long time lurker here. For those who do not know, I am the MMGArchivist on Twitter and YouTube where I'm creating a living archive dedicated to capturing male muscle growth moments in the medium of animation. And I've decided to throw my hat in the writing ring this year so I hope you enjoy this first installment of The Multiverse of Animated Muscle Madness - where the mechanization of a mysteries Architect leads to some of our favorite men in animation becoming hirsute, hyper-masculine musclegods. With our first unknowing recipients being a certain blonde haired sidekick who loves Bueno Nacho and his best pal Rufus. Enjoy! PART ONE "There we go!" Ron Stoppable said as he slid the last egg into place, a wide grin breaking through the intense concentration. Leaning backwards he folded his arms, admiring with pride his latest creation. It was a towering mountain of food, with the base being a regular extra large Naco, but then piled high with bacon, sausage, eggs. All drizzled with syrup at the top, running down like maple lava rivers to the scattered base of French sticks. A culinary nightmare to some, but sweet, delicious madness to the blonde. Ron ignored the temptation to nibble on his masterpiece and picked it up, wobbling only slightly as he turned from the stove to the island counter. Walking quickly, he deposited the precariously leaning tower of cholesterol onto the counter before Rufus, his small naked mole rat. Not wanting to leave his best friend and pal out, Ron had permanently installed a small table on the counter with its own small chair, where Rufus currently sat excitedly chittering "Ooh boy CHEESE!" while wearing a small white napkin as a bib. "Here we go buddy! My world famous Bueno Nacho Naco Breakfast to tide us over until KP gets back." Ron said, moving to sit in his new favorite chair. After sitting down, Ron stuck his hands into the pile and pulled out a couple of chips covered in eggs, bacon, sausage bits, strings of cheese still connecting them to the rest of the mountain. The syrup had barely rolled off the mess in his hands before Ron had smashed them into his mouth, his eyes closing in joy as he slurped. Not needing to be asked twice, Rufus eagerly threw off his bib before diving headfirst into the nearest side of the pile, practically tunneling himself into the mountain. The duo were acting like starving coyotes going after a fresh meal. Which, to be honest, they were. Starving, that is, and not being coyotes. You see, young Ron Stoppable and his pal Rufus had just spent the last several days refurbishing their new abode in a rush, just days before the upcoming fall semester began at Middleton Community College. When Ron had originally applied to the school a year after graduation, the dean had come to his parent's home in person to accept him, going off on how ecstatic the school was to have a prestige member of team Possible as one of their students and future alumni. This led to a full ride scholarship and flexibility with his teachers to accommodate his mission work with Kim and the best of on student housing. And for the first month of his freshman year, Ron had really eaten up the popularity, and his fellow classmates and teachers were in awe of his adventures. And the jocks and popular boys and the nerds were all in awe of the fact that he - Ron Stoppable- had bagged Kim Possible, the world's greatest action hero, as his girlfriend. But as the semester went on, the administration of MCC learned the hard way why the principal of Middleton High laughed himself into a fit when they called to receive Ron's records to process him as a student. Not even two months in and Magilligan had broken out of prison and had tried to take out the son of a rival clan during a school spirit day, only to learn that Ron attended the school. And after getting his behind handed to a monkey-fu powered Ron and sent back to prison, the Scotsman sang like a lark to all the villains about this development. So began a series of villain attacks on the university to see who would bring down their shared enemy and foe Kim Possible first by going after her achiles heel - the Dweeb. While the Dean had budgeted plenty for Ron's bottomless appetite, his infamous clumsiness, and the occasional rogue experiment from the science department (Dr. Drakken was also an alumnus), the school had not accounted for a global villain network declaring hunting season on Ron. Insurance rates and costs for repairs were already skyrocketing by November, because of Shego's personal motto of "if I can lift it, it's a projectile weapon". The school winter holidays festival had to be cancelled because of a resurrected evil snowman by the Seniors. And everyone refused to even talk about the anthropomorphic horrors D.N. Amy unleashed during Valentine's Day and she hadn't even come after Ron. During solitary, an artist site called Deviancyart had inspired her to recreate her own perfect anthropomorphic OC in real life to marry. The young and mature male victims alone- Amy apparently didn't age discriminate at the university - kept the school counselors busy for weeks afterwards. But while the administration was getting grey hair over the situation, the students loved having Ron and his popularity stayed pretty much the same. Then came the Gill incident in August. Not only was Ron's apartment destroyed in the toxic goo mess, he lost all three of his roommates in the same attack. But they didn't die! One ended up transforming and becoming Gil's hunky shark boyfriend that visits him regularly in prison. They saved another from transforming fully intime and he reverted, dropped out of college and became a famous environmentalist on MyTube. The last one needed extensive psychotherapy and still gets a panic attack when he even sees anything slimy. So for the safety of Ron and Rufus, the school moved them to the old groundskeeper and wood shop teacher's cabin, right on the outskirts of school grounds, right next to Middleton's only forest. "For your safety and no other reason at all!" the Dean had said quickly to Ron and his parents in his office just after the announcement, his now salt and pepper hair and goatee damp from the buckets of nervous sweat pouring off him from the glare Mrs. Stoppable was sending him. And when asked why Ron couldn't just stay in any of the on campus or even close to off campus housing since he was popular with the student body, the Dean had nervously stuttered out how many students current insurance didn't cover villain attacks that occur in private residencies - only public spaces and they didn't want to risk it. So, with that announcement, Ron and Rufus found themselves moved into a rustic cabin near the woods that needed a lot of TLC. When the dean had said rustic, he meant huntsman from Little Red Riding Hood rustic. The wood shop teacher had not only built the cabin himself, but he had custom-built all the furniture, including the queen sized bed in the master bedroom, to accommodate his partner and his much larger sizes. So not only did Ron have beds and couches that could fit two of him in - which made the couches great napping spots - but they were also custom decorated by the groundskeeper, who liked to hunt. That meant Ron and Kim walking into the master bedroom and them screaming in terror at seeing a fully stuffed bear - completely with head in a death roar - staring at them from atop the massive bed. Furs covered all the furniture in the housing from the bed to the couches while the mounted heads and antlers of several prizes dotted the walls wherever the room was available. They had used several pairs of antlers to create lamps, seasoning shelves in the kitchen, and even bath-towel racks in both the guest and master bedroom. All of which Kim, Monique, Mrs. Stoppable and Mrs. Possible all had to go. Which then led to a vote, which was won by the boys. On the condition, however, that their partners could hold veto power over anything that was truly hideous. Which led to the ladies watching with Rufus, sunglasses on and sipping lemonades, while the boys showed them things and they vetoed them, having the dejected man taking the thing to the storage truck to send it all to the owner's new home. It took several days of painting, moving in new coverings for the bed and couches, and patching some leaks in the roof. Yet as Ron looked around at their new living space in the light of day, he could see how much they'd transformed the place. While the kitchen remained "charmingly" rustic with hardwood and oak shelves, the living area was a contrast in relaxing modernity with soft plush grey couches and armchairs circling a coffee table. Directly in front of the coffee table was a fireplace and above that, a nice large-screen television, perfect for movies and gaming. From the living room came the entryway, that was lined with some of Ron's favorite movie posters and a shelf for shoes next to the front door. Everything created a cozy, relaxing atmosphere. "Spekingh off relaxcingh" Ron said loudly to catch Rufus' attention, his mouth full of naco. Rufus peeked his head out of his gooey tunnel, cheeks stuffed, as he looked up at Ron in curiosity. Ron swallowed before giving a belch. "Whoops! Sorry, buddy. Anyway, since we have time to kill before KP gets here in the car, want to play Super Crash Bros after breakfast?" Rufus excitedly nodded his head and chittered, slobber flying from his full cheeks. Ron laughed, taking that for an enthusiastic yes before returning to help demolish the rest of the mountain that was now only a small hill. Yep, Ron thought gleefully, this was the life. He couldn't wait to finish and race with his best bud and once again absolutely cream his cousin Todd online. He had a nice place to stay. His parents and he had set everything up for school in a few days. Kim and he were going strong. Everything was finally going his way. Which is right when the doorbell rang. Ron turned towards the door, cheeks bulging with food. He swallowed, then stood up, stretching his tight muscles as he did. "Oh geez! I'm getting old buddy and I don't like it. But it's so early for the mail woman to be coming by." He said with a frown. Then Ron shrugged. "Ah well. It doesn't matter, anyway. It's not like it's going to be something life changing or mind-blowing." Ron laughed, walking down to the entryway. Little did Ron realize how soon he would quickly eat those words- among other things. For as his hand went to open the door, missing the dark silhouette that blocked all light from entering the glass window, Ron would soon receive something that would change not only his own life. But the entire trajectory of his world and universe as they knew it. But we're getting far ahead of ourselves. Completely oblivious to the dark silhouette, Ron's hand paused on the doorknob as a thought struck him. "What if KP came back because she didn't get our normal goodbye kiss?!" he said, eyes widening in shock. Quickly, that shock faded as a cocky expression replaced it, a smirk crinkling his eyes as he chuckled. "But who am I to not give my girlfriend what she wants?" Still chuckling and shaking his head, Ron opened the door. "Kim, Kim, Kim. If you wanted a goodbye kiss, all you had to do was ask! But that's okay. I'm more than happy to oblige, my lady." He said, eyes closed. Ron puckered his lips and leaned forward, eager to kiss his girlfriend. Silence greeted him. Then a deep, bassy chuckle shattered the silence. "Normally I wouldn't kiss on the job. But I'd make an exception, cutie." Ron's eyes snapped open. "Huh? Who said- AGHAHAHA!" Ron screamed, his hands coming up to his chest as terror and shock filled him as he stared at the massive behemoth standing in front of him. He had to be the biggest man he'd ever seen in real life- and he'd fought a guy possessed by the spirit of Anubis, a turned evil Hego, and a genetically modified Drakken from the future. (The last one, Ron and Kim still weren't sure if that had really happened or not. Gotta love those time travel loopholes!) Anyway, back to the hunk of man towering above Ron's blonde head by several feet. The man wore an expensive, obviously custom tailored black suit over a white undershirt, black dress pants stretched across spread sequoia-thick thighs. Resting right above both tree trunks was a massive gut, a thick round sphere of pure muscle sheathed in the fabric of the black suit. A pair of titanic pecs rose above the man's core, each slab square and tightly packed against the other, wrestling for space between the straining confines of the man's clothing. The visible buttons on his chest were valiantly holding on for dear life, patches of midnight dark skin and coily black hairs as thick as a forest visible within. The barn door sized width of his lats and back also pushed against the sides of his clothing, yet still stressing the man's form, giving him an almost X shape. Ron's eyes couldn't help but dart from the man's boulder shoulders down to the dense muscle threatening to burst through the seams of the suit's sleeves. Round watermelon biceps pressed for space against his monstrous lats and pecs, pushing the stranger's arms at an angle. Meaty forearms pulled his jacket and shirt cuffs tight away from his wrist and closer to his elbows, leaving an enormous expanse of vascular, hairy black skin visible before his hands disappeared into the pockets of his suit. But what truly drew the eye was the black bow tie perched at the bottom of the man's thick neck. Because there was no collar, possibly large enough to go around such an elephantine pillar of muscle. Thickly corded tendons flexed all along the length of the thickest, meatiest neck Ron had ever seen. A literal tree trunk of thick muscle seamlessly rose from boulder shoulders and traps to uphold the man's enormous head. Thick black stubble covered the bottom half of his smirking face and down his neck until it reached the large Adam's apple. Perched atop a broad, enormous nose sat a pair of almost dainty glasses through which two eyes the same shade as Monique's skin looked down at Ron, filled with warmth. A perfectly manicured yet bushy eyebrow rose, giving the man a playful and confident, yet not arrogant, expression. Like the ruling lion of a pride, looking down in fond amusement at a kitten. Just like a lion, a mane of wonderfully intricate interwoven braids framed his face. And as the man tilted his head to the side to better stare at the frozen Ron, the rest of his braids flowed from a knot down to his massive back, giving the man a ponytail woven from beautifully multicolored beaded braids. It was this beauty that robbed Ron of thought, paralyzing him speechless, the fear rapidly draining from him to be replaced with awe. This ruggedly masculine man, the epitome of masculinity, was also the most beautiful human being he'd ever encountered. Even thoughts of Kim's beauty fled from his mind as it struggled to comprehend the being before it. How a person could not only be so enormous and muscular, yet be so captivatingly gorgeous and ethereal at the same time. If Ron didn't know better, he'd think the man before him was some sort of angel or demigod. The man chuckled, a deep rumble rising from his chest. "Leaves you kind of speechless, don't it?" His voice was like a river of caramel, smooth and deep and just as strong and commanding of attention. Ron could only nod, mouth agape and eyes wide. The man tilted his head to the left, amused as he eyed the boyish man before him. He truly was adorable -a skinny yet lithe body clothed in baggy, obviously comfy clothing. A fluffy blonde mop framed a round, brown-eyed face that looked young beyond its twenty years. The freckles didn't help either. He licked his lips, hunger rising sharply within him as he continued to eye Ron. Our Lord is right once again. He will truly be a delicious morsel in the upcoming feast. He thought, his mind flooding with the graphic visuals and visions his Lord had described for Their disciples. Filling the stirrings of a familiar warmth below the belt, the man quickly took his mind from the gutter to the task his Lord had given him. There would be time to indulge in such things much later. As well as the window was shrinking before a certain stick-in-the-mud sensed his presence. Getting back to the task at hand, the man gave Ron a megawatt smile, white teeth gleaming and bright against his skin. "I know these seem terribly rude, but could I come in for just a few minutes? I'm not from around here and not used to this summer heat." the man said, looking at Ron while he willed the young mortal to believe his words. And it was true - his feet were tired after walking around the entire campus, trying to find someone who knew where the blonde man's new housing was. Ron quickly shook himself, realizing how rude he was being leaving this man out in the sun like this. Being absolutely trusting, Ron quickly moved out of the doorway. "Of-of course. Let's go inside so you can cool down. The heat is brutal today!" He said, waving the man indoors. It didn't even occur to Ron that the man could've been an evil minion or someone sent to take him back to the enemy. All he saw was a large man in need of aid, and his aching heat quickly took over. "I'm Ron, by the way. It's nice to meet you." Ron said over his shoulder as he moved down the entryway, the enormous man following behind him. The stranger had to turn sideways and shuffle his way through the doorway before trailing behind the blonde, his wide shoulders brushing against the wall while his head was only a foot or so away from the eight foot tall ceilings. The man nodded. "Nice to meet you, Ron. My name is Mr. Cleido." He answered back as the pair entered the communal area of the home. The towering breakfast mountain was now only a pile of a few cheesy chips. Cradled on top of the pile, Rufus was rubbing his inflated stomach, chittering in contentment. Rufus looked up as Ron came into the kitchen, his small eyes widening and jaw dropping in shock at the beautiful black man coming up behind him. "Take a seat, man, and let me get you some water." Ron said, moving through the kitchen. He picked up Rufus, the rodent still speechless. Rufus turned his head to look at Ron, still dazed, and the blonde laughed. "Same here buddy." he whispered, popping the rotund rodent into shirt pocket while he returned to look for a clean glass. "Oh, I couldn't possibly inconvenience you anymore than I already am! Especially since it looks like I'm interrupting your breakfast as well." Mr. Cleido rumbled, looking at the couches and sofas around the coffee table. Picking the sturdiest one, he slowly lowered himself down, successfully not wincing at the groan of the springs. Or how the chair sunk deeper into the carpet. "Hey man you're not bothering me at all." Ron said, coming into the living room. In one hand he had a large coffee mug full of water, the other hand holding the last bit of his breakfast nacos. He placed them both on the coffee table, the nacos directly in the middle, while he sat on the large sofa next to Mr. Cleido. Once he saw his new guest was drinking, Ron went to town on the chips, popping some into his mouth. "Don't mean to dig or anything, but what's a guy like you doing wandering outside dressed like that?" Ron said around a mouthful of chips, vaguely gesturing to the bigger man's ensemble. "Were you trying to get a job on campus? OH! Are you a bodyguard? Did the school send you to be my bodyguard?! That would be so cool!" Ron said, throwing his arms up in the air in excitement. Though the blonde could more than take care of himself, having a bodyguard was seen as a status symbol of wealth or influence. And it would just make Ron's status on campus even better because he was so sought after by the villain underbelly and was such a threat, he needed protection twenty-four seven. Ron's mind raced, picturing how he and Mr. Cleido would become the best of friends after multiple attempts, flashing through various fanciful scenarios in their completely fictional friendship. He imagined the bodyguard sobbing as Ron and Kim were married, Ron stomping on the traditional cup in a Jewish wedding. Him becoming the godfather to their kids. He even imagined the day he'd grasp hands with the man who'd been his second best friend and secondary father to him for the last time, watching as in a hospital he took a deep rattling breath in his wizened form. While Ron's wild imagination zoomed through decades of a fictional relationship, Mr. Cleido finished his sip, meaty hand dwarfing the mug. Gently bringing it back down on the coffee table, the man gave another chuckle. "Getting into enough trouble to warrant a bodyguard, are we?" he teased. The man's words shattered Ron's daydream - Kim consoling him as they stared down at a ridiculously large grave - and caused the blonde to turn back to the present. Embarrassed, Ron rubbed the back of his head, cheeks flushing red. "Yeah, not necessarily. I'm not the one getting into trouble. It's just more that trouble seems to... find me." He said, not looking at Mr. Cleido. Mr. Cleido nodded. "And when it finds you, it gets everyone around you involved as well, I take it?" Ron looked back at the man, nodding repeatedly. "Exactly! It's not my fault the bad guys want a piece of me finally! They just keep coming for some reason and it's been very annoying! Specially since everyone but Drakken, Monkey Fist, and Gill keeps getting my name wrong." Ron huffed, folding his arms in frustration. He remembered how - just weeks before the Gill incident- Senior Senior Senior had called Ron every name under the sun that ended in "-on" except his actual name. Which was additionally insulting since he'd been the one to request him and Kim's services in the first place! Rufus gave his owner's arm a pat, returning Ron's mind again to the present. Ron quickly unfolded his arms, leaning forward towards the built man now with excitement. "But now that I have a bodyguard with me, they'll HAVE to take me seriously enough to remember my name! And it will improve my street cred even more, which would finally help me get into the frat parties, which are the best parties on campus!" Ron said, looking up at Mr. Cleido with joy in his eyes. Oh, you are such a cutie. Mr. Cleido thought. If this were a different mission, he'd have gladly gone along with the plan if it meant spending more time with the endearing, strange man before him. But even now, he could feel the window shrinking more. Plus, he knew the reward for fulfilling his Lord's will would be far sweeter and orgasmic than what the young man currently could ever reward him with. Mr. Cleido gave Ron an apologetic look. "While I'm very flattered, I am already employed." Seeing Ron wilt in disappointment and embarrassment, he hurried to continue. "Do you remember the Mr. Universe pageant you and Miss Possible saved at the beginning of this summer? The one with the international delegations competing which lost to Junior Junior Senior?" Ron looked back at the man, his disappointment at not getting a bodyguard fading away. Confused at the question, he answered slowly. "Yeah, I remember it. It's hard to forget those male beauty pageants. Especially when everyone's all slicked up and strutting their stuff in man bikinis." Ron said. Mr. Cleido's eyebrows rose at the statement. "Man biki-oh! Haha! They really are kinda of man bikinis!" he said. Throwing his head back, Mr. Cleido exploded with laughter. Ron and Rufus gasped as the power and strength of the giant's laugh shook everything in the room. Calming himself, Mr. Cleido continued to chuckle while he wiped a stray tear from his eye. "Ah, that was good! And male beauty pageants truly are the best way to describe those competitions. Hahaha. Can't wait to tell the others this one, especially Glōōdeal." he said. Still chuckling, the man continued. "But yes. The biggest sponsors of male beauty pageants as you were, especially the Mr. Universe one you saved, are the Male Muscle Growth Agency or the MMGA for short. I'm the personal attendant for the CEO. Think of me like his, um, head of staff." Mr. Cleido said, taking another sip of water. More confused now than ever, Ron spoke again. "So what brought you here, then?" he asked. Concern filled him, worried he'd accidentally offended the mysterious CEO in some way. "Did I tick him off? What did I break - oh gosh, what's it going to cost me? I'm a broke college kid. I don't have that much money to begin with!" Ron panicked, hands flying to his face. Mr. Cleido quickly put a comforting mitt on Ron's arm, his hand wrapping entirely around the limb. "You broke nothing of value at the venue Mr. A, my boss, won't be able to cover. And I'm not here to shake you down for money. In fact, they were so impressed and grateful, they wanted to show their appreciation through a gift. Which I currently have on my person." Releasing the blonde's arm, Mr. Cleido stood up, reaching into his suit pockets as he did so. Fiddling around for a moment, he gave a soft- for him- exclamation as he pulled out a package. Gesturing for Ron to open his hands, Mr. Cleido bent down to place the package in his hands while he explained. "The CEO of another company owed my employer a favor, and they cashed in. And while there is no money in the envelope - don't whine-" he said with a laugh as Ron pouted at the news,"- it is a letter better explaining the gift. Best to read it once I'm gone." Mr. Cleido finished, covering Ron's entire hand as he placed the package there. He truly wished he could stay for a little while longer - just to witness as the scrumptious twink tried on the gift his Lord and Master had given him. But he could feel the brief window was almost gone and that soon unwanted eyes would notice his presence in this universe. So filled with regret, Mr. Cleido drew back up to his full height. Pretending to look at a nonexistent watch, he acted shocked. "Would you look at the time? I must go if I'm to make it back to your campus on time to catch my ride back to work." "Oh for sure, let me just -" Ron said, putting the package down to stand up and escort his guest out like his mom would expect. Before he could fully stand up, though, a large hand came and gently pushed him back down, causing Ron and Rufus to fall backwards onto the couch. "Nonsense! I've already taken enough of your time and hospitality. I can see myself out. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintances." Mr. Cleido said, grabbing Ron's hand to give it a shake that rattled the young man. Properly disoriented, Mr. Cleido scooped back up the package as he walked by, placing it back in Ron's hand. As he elegantly moved past the blonde, he couldn't help but be coy. Right before he reached the entryway, he pretended to stop like he had forgotten something. "How unprofessional of me to forget!" Turning his head over his meaty neck, the man sent a stunning smile back to the rattled Ron. "My employer would prefer you to try on your gift in the mirror. You'll thank us later." Turning back around, his long and powerful legs carried him swiftly through the entryway and out the door. Ron quickly reoriented himself and stood up. "WAIT WHAT DO YOU MEAN-" The front door closed, cutting off his question to the mysterious man. "Try it on. Nevermind." Ron sighed, slumping slightly against the side of the sofa. He and Rufus exchanged looks. "I'd say that was the weirdest thing that's ever happened to us, but we've fought babies." Rufus nodded his head, chittering in agreement. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Ron quickly put the strange departure of Mr. Cleido to the back of his mind as he focused on the package he was still clutching. Unfolding his hand, the duo saw it was a long rectangular box - like one would use to put like a necklace or jewelry in. Tethered to the box was a white envelope tied there by a golden ribbon. The envelope was very plain and unadorned - the only remarkable thing being there TO RON STOPPABLE printed in nondescript gold type right in the middle. Neither Ron nor Rufus knew what to make of the strange gift. "Huh. Wonder what could be in here?" Ron said, standing back up. He ambled back to his bedroom, distractedly unraveling the ribbon, while spitballing ideas to Rufus. "I know he said it wasn't money, but OH, what if it's like a sold gold chain?! I could sell that and get tons of dough for it!" He looked down at Rufus, who looked down at the box, then quickly shook his head. "Yeah, you're right. It would probably be a lot heavier even if it was a necklace. Gold's pretty heavy stuff. But he said to try it on..." Ron said, pausing in the doorway in his room. If it wasn't a solid gold chain, then what could it be? Was it like an experimental smart watch or necklace? One of those foldable VR headsets Wade had been rambling excitedly about? A collar with a virtual picture of me and Kim? Before he could think more about it, Ron felt a claw tapping on his neck. "Hmmm?" he said, looking down at Rufus. "What's up, little buddy?" Rufus pointed at the envelope in Ron's hand, chattering while miming opening the envelope. "Oh yeah, go for it, buddy. Here ya go- whoopsie daisy!" Ron said, handing the envelope to Rufus, only for the box to slide out of his hand. Fumbling quickly, he caught the box, embarrassed. "Oh, boy! That was a close one, hahaha." Ron laughed, lifting his hand to make sure he hadn't accidentally damaged the box. His laughter trailed off, however, as a familiar orange logo caught his eye. "Wait a minute - HenchCo.? HenchCo. made this?" Ron said, bringing the box closer to his face while Rufus was busy ripping open the envelope. Sure enough, his eyes weren't deceiving him. Right in the middle of the box, in bright orange letters, was the HENCHCO logo - the world's pre-eminent supplier of military and scientific hardware and henchmen to evil geniuses worldwide. They'd built the Molecular Transducer and the Attitudinator that had turned Ron evil and Drakken good that one time. They'd even accidentally turned Ron into an orange, hulking brute after he'd fallen into a vat of the experimental Titan Project. But none of those are wearable except- Ron thought, his eyes widening as the realization of what he was potentially holding struck him like lightning. Rufus let out a sharp squeak as Ron suddenly darted toward forwards, leading the rodent to hold tight to the letter in one hand while grabbing Ron's shoulder with another. "Waitaminute-waitaminute-waitaminute," Ron said repeatedly, excitement growing within him as he moved. Entering his large and spacious bedroom, Ron quickly made his way to the opposite end where, between his walk-in closet and the dresser beside his bed, stood a long full-length mirror. Bingo! Ron thought as he made his way closer to the mirror. Still excitedly chanting, he distractedly deposited Rufus onto the dresser alongside the box. "Waitaminute-waitaminute- wait. a. MINUTE! NO WAY!" Ron exclaimed, bouncing back a step. "Rufus, Mr. C. said I was supposed to look in a mirror while I tried it on, right?" He said, hands up and gesturing wildly. Rufus looked back at Ron and chittered in agreement, confused. "And that his boss had asked a certain CEO to make this for me as a gift. Which we now know because HenchCo made it, it means Jack Hench is that CEO, right?" Ron asked the rodent, lifting the box to showcase the label again. Rufus again chittered in agreement. "Mmhm mmh right mmhm mmhm?" Ron dropped the box back onto the dresser, nodding his head excitedly. The blonde was so excited he couldn't help but start pacing back and forth. "So Mr. C's boss had Jack Hench give us something wearable. And they make a lot of wearable stuff like the Tudeinator. But those could only fit in a hatbox and this is obviously not a hatbox. Nor could it be a tiara or crown - though that would look cool with my hair." Ron said, pausing as he thought of how majestic he'd look with a cool crown around his blonde hair and if Kim would like that. Quickly, he shook himself from that daydream and continued to pace as he rambled to his increasingly confused, concerned companion. "Nothing HenchCo makes could ever be small enough to fit in this box. Except one thing." Ron said, stopping with his back turned to the rodent. With a dramatic whirl, he spun to face Rufus, pointing at the rodent. "What is the one thing HenchCo has ever made that is small enough to wear and put in a box, buddy?" he asked, an excited grin on his face. Rufus scrunched his face, concentrating as he tried to think. What had Henchco ever made that was tiny, wearable, and fit in a box? The rodent's eyes widened, his tiny mouth opening in shock. He looked up at Ron and excitedly chittered back at him, "OH mgmmg mgmgm mgmgm!" while miming with his hands, like he was putting something on one of his fingers. Ron excitedly nodded his head again, bouncing now. "Exactly buddy! The only thing HenchCo has ever made that could fit in this box is-" Ron said, grabbing the box and lifting it between the duo. With an ungraceful yank, Ron pulled the top off with one hand while the other dove in and claimed his prize. And with a dramatic flourish, Ron pulled out the tiny item, dropping the box to the ground while, between two fingers, he held the gift. "A MOLECULAR MUSCLE ENHANCER RING BABY!" Ron crowed, throwing his head back as Rufus squealed in excitement. Indeed, held gingerly between Ron's average fingers, was an infamous molecular muscle enhancer ring. Or, as many henchmen, heroes, and civilians now called them on the street, an M.M.E. ring for short. Since Drakken's "acquisition" of them years ago, the M.M.E. ring had become one of HenchCo's most lucrative tech requested by villains and civilians alike. Appearing to be a simple golden twist ring, the powerful tech used powerful energies to manipulate the wearer's body down to the molecular level to give them considerable increases in height, muscle mass, and strength. And since the rings had hit both the public and villainous sectors, many sporting competitions had made rules outlawing their practice while certain sports - such as wrestling and MMA- actively encouraged the usage of the rings as it provided lucrative entertainment options. This had also led to a rise in catfishing on online dating apps, as many skinny men used the rings to create profiles to catch potential partners, only for their scheme to fall apart when the rings fell off their fingers. There actually was a hilarious reality TV show the Possible family and Ron watched where a woman with a camera crew went out to catch these dudes and expose them on air. Catfishing them and then, when they least expected it, yanking off the rings and watching them deflate into skinny dudes drowning in a puddle of clothes. None of that was on Ron's mind as he held the ring, though. No, what was going through his mind was all the potential the ring could bring him. "Do you know what this means, Rufus?" He asked. Rufus shook his head. "It means I can finally not only physically keep up with Kim when we go on missions, but I could start seriously kicking bad guy's butt! Imagine me using my monkey powers while being all manly again. It would totally rock!" Ron said, eyes shut so he could picture it better. Him walking to class, now the size of one of the football players on campus. A bad guy coming - like Gill again - snarky. and confident until they saw the new manly Ron, mighty pecs filling his shirt, his hair spiking as he went into monkey mode. How easily his meaty fists, mystically powered, would easily subdue the threat before Kim and the police showed up. And, with a dirpy chuckle, he imagined how, while annoyed at him using the ring, that wouldn't stop Kim from giving him the best kisses in the world. Nodding, determination filled Ron as he clutched the ring tightly in his hand. "Yeah baby let’s do this!" he said. Ron moved from the dresser to stand before the full-length mirror. He looked down, opening his hand to look once more at the small ring. Ron then looked back at his reflection, taking it in for a moment. He took in his boyish, freckled face, made younger by his shaggy blonde hair. How his jersey-turtleneck combo and cargo pants were baggy on his wiry frame. How his jersey was doing an excellent job to his small gut he had from all the fast food he ate and his monstrous metabolism couldn't rid him completely off. And while, unlike the first time, Ron was incredibly secure in his masculinity and his prowess, he was absolutely sick and tired of not being taken seriously as his girlfriend when he was just as strong and terrifying as she was. But the image staring back at him, combined with his average height, meant no one besides the Possible family - and lord Monkey Fist - rarely took him seriously. Hence why they called him The Dweeb. "Not for long, though." Ron muttered, a cocky smirk blossoming on his face as he picked up the ring with his other hand. And with rising excitement, Ron placed the M.M.E. ring onto his right ring finger. And as his hand lifted, twisting the top part to the right, releasing a familiar series of flashing lights and chirps and whirs between the two bands. A faint warmth surrounded the ring on Ron’s finger while a shiver rippled throughout Ron’s body as the ring scanned and mapped his form, from the tips of his hair down to the ends of his toes swaddled in the plain cotton socks on his feet. As the ring scanned him, the microchips and processors whirred and flared as they moved to the default setting as established by HenchCo scientists. All of this occurring within microseconds, the ring completed its assessment and began the transformation of its wearer. From the ring, it issued a pulse of warmth. A gurgling sound dragged Ron’s attention from the ring to his chest. A tingle rose from the center of his chest, like pins and needles, but somehow deeper. It spread outwards, covering his chest. As he watched, his shirt billowed and undulated like boiling soup, while a gurgling sound emanated from deep within his chest. That faint warmth grew, along with a strange pressure rising, pressing forward against his undulating flesh. Then, with a mighty lurch, his meager chest surged forwards, swiftly swelling outwards and hardening, until Ron boasted a pair of massive pectorals. "Oh yeah!" Ron exclaimed, looking down at the brawny shelf extending from his chest. "I can't see past my pecs!" He said, barely able to see his socks wiggling beneath his heavier chest. Ron's right hand went to touch his pecs, wanting to cup and test their weight and softness. However, another pulse came from the ring, causing the pins and needles sensation accompanied by the warm energy to rise within his chest once again. The warm current of energy bulleted down from his shoulders through his arm, causing it to shoot out away from his body. As it stiffened, the energy rolled downwards, enlarging his entire arm to three times its normal size, the seams in his clothing nearly bursting trying to contain all the new mass. Once the energy hit Ron's hand, it ricocheted back up towards his shoulder, hardening and defining along the way. Ron's thin gamer hand was now thick with brawn, attached to a meaty forearm that wrestled for space with the now massive biceps and tricep filling the sleeve of Ron's jersey and turtleneck. Glancing at his enlarged limb, Ron couldn't help but bring it up for a flex, grinning wickedly at the sight of the clothed mountain peak the size of his head appearing in his vision. It was absolutely massive, brimming with power and strength that could easily lift a desk with a person sitting on it with ease. Ron looked absolutely ridiculous at this point, with a pair of massive muscle knockers pulling the front of his jersey down while having only the right arm of a bodybuilder. And flexing his arm led to the young man wobbling, his balance overthrown by the shifting weight. The ring had expected this, however, and it issued out two pulses, back to back. The warm energy collected in Ron's right shoulder surged forwards through Ron's upper back, causing him to drop the flex and twist to his right as the wave of transformative energy widened and broadened his shoulders until he now was as wide as two of his old self put together. His left arm then shot out to the side as the energy crashed over the limb, broadening and swelling it to be a mirror copy of the other arm. The pins and needles sensation faded from his arms as the energy now centered itself within his shoulders, specifically his traps. The energy swirled within his shoulders, spreading up through his neck. As Ron gasped at the sensation, he felt his neck pulse and puff up, thickening and swelling, until his head rested upon a thick column of sinewy muscle. The energy swirled downwards, broadening his traps until they were three times their original size. Complete with that, the ring then directed the wave of transformative energy down the rest of Ron's back, which was still so skinny that you could see his spine if he took his shirt off. The ring loved nothing more than a challenge, however, and it pushed the energy down the man's back in a cascade. As the energy swept down his spine, Ron's clothes filled out as non-existent muscles emerged and wrestled for space. Soon a mountain range of veiny, chiseled muscle pulled Ron's jersey skin tight against his body. It was so tightly pulled that the planes and ridges of Ron's now Mr. Barkin wide back imprinted themselves against the fabric like a car map. Flaring out from his sides were winglike lats, corded sinew that flared with every breath from Ron's now much bigger chest and lungs and flowed downwards to his equally muscular lower back. And as Ron breathed, the energy within his lower back crawled forwards and spread across his core. With a deep inhale, his stomach ballooned outwards several times its normal size, gurgling and bubbling just like his chest did in the beginning of his transformation. When he exhaled, the bubbling mass rapidly changed and continued to shrink until even the regular belly he had before was gone and Ron's shirt billowed over an impossibly skinny waist. But with the next inhalation, it swelled with sinew and growth, definition appearing on the expanding muscle until, with a deep exhale, the front of his shirt now rested against a defined eight pack. Thanks to his much bigger upper body, Ron's jersey and turtleneck pulled close enough that the wall of abs were clearly visible, the definition and sharpness visible even through his jersey. Pins and needles now rushed from his abs into his lower body, cascading towards and filling his toes. Once the energy filled his toes, the ring issued another pulsed and Ron's toes flexed. As his toes flexed, all of Ron's limbs expanded and lengthened, sending the blonde up several inches in height. Once his height had increased, the energy went into overdrive. The socks covering Ron's feet shivered and twitched, his toes and feet broadening and swelling until, with a series of loud SHRIIPS & RIIPS, his much bigger feet shredded through them. The energy then rolled up from his ankles through his calves, flooding them with energy as they became thicker and broader, swelling into baseball sized diamonds of muscle. The energy rose higher, pouring into the rest of his legs. His thighs quickly packed on several pounds, swelling and thickening the once skinny runner's legs into powerful teardrop trunks of strength and brawn. They were so thick and swollen with brawn that they shoved against one another until, with another pulse from the ring, they grew too big and pushed against the other, giving Ron now a much wider gait, almost a waddle. Looking into the mirror, Ron couldn't help himself as a smirk rose on his face. He looked like an actual professional bodybuilder. A thick barrel chest wrestled for space against his massive biceps, framed by broad shoulders and winglike lats. His back was so girthy and large, he knew he would have to walk sideways through most doorways from now on - he just wouldn't fit through them like normal anymore. He put his hands on his chest and flexed, his muscles flaring against his shirt. "Yeah baby!" he said as his chiseled waist became visible again through his jersey. "Look at me Rufus! I'm hot!" Ron said excitedly, now twisting his legs back and forth. He couldn't help but admire how his once baggy cargo pants were now so tight, the striations and planes of his thighs straining against their fabric prison. And while all his clothes were tighter now on him, it wasn't uncomfortable. And he had the designers of the ring to thank for that, as its original programming kept Ron's body from growing to the point, it shredded his clothes. As long as the designers of said clothing had designed the clothes to not require a certain muscle group to not be above certain dimensions. Such as the gluteus muscles and hips for the seat of their pants, for instance. "Boo-yeah!" Ron said, bringing up both arms into a double bicep pose. Rufus whistled and cheered, letter all but forgotten as he clapped as he looked up at his much bigger owner. Ron was now truly a sight to behold - absolutely massive, as big if not a smidge bigger than Mr. Barkin or even Junior. And Ron relished the strength he felt packed within his body, the power that normally lay dormant deep within now coursing just below the surface. Almost as if his powers had just been waiting for his physical body to match them with might and strength. Ron couldn't wait for Kim to get back to show off his new, manly physique and try to use his powers again. And it was at this moment that the ring sent out a final pulse of energy, completing the transformation of Ron's body. Distracted by his mighty muscles and feelings of manliness, Ron didn't notice the flare of heat within his glutes. As the energy swirled into Ron's glutes, they quickly swelled out, pulling tight against his boxers until two dimpled round globes of muscle pushed against the seat of Ron's pants. And while Ron's boxers could handle his bigger buns, the combination of his wider hips and now broader and rounder rear was too much for the back of Ron's pants as tears formed with every jostle and movement from the blonde bodybuilder. So as Ron moved into a most muscular pose, growling as every muscle flexed tightly against his clothes, a loud RIIIIP cut Ron's growl short. His eyes widened when he felt a cold breeze flow over his hindquarters. "No, no no no no!" Ron chanted as he spun around, turning over his neck to look into the mirror. And he saw that, while the rest of his clothes had survived the transformation, the now blown out seat of his pants had not and the world had a clear window at the now tightly packed back of his blue spotted shorts. "Ah man, my pants!"
  2. LionBUff

    Hanging Herc (full trilogy)

    p1 Homul walked down a dark path behind the town's pub towards a cave deep in the mountains of Greece. The path leads to a farmer's house on the other side of the mountains, but there was a special spot along the trail Hormul was after. A dimly lit cage-like door with the words "Firen Flight" greeted him. The door was covering a cave entirely lit by touches that were at least half burned out. A tall man in a Greek shoulder uniform holding a clay tablet guarded the gate door. "May I come in," Homul asked. The intimidating man looked at his tablet to think about his answer. Homul was worried that the Firen Flight wasn't as secret as he hoped and that he would be told to leave thanks to the crowd. He desperately hoped this wasn't true, he desperately needed a break. A friend of his told him how to get to the secluded Firen Flight deep in the mountains and told Homul that it was his favorite way to relax his mind. The man looked down at his tablet and saw that the Firen Flight was well below capacity. "It's pretty slow tonight, go ahead," The guard told Homul. Homul was so excited that he almost tripped over himself walking in. He walked down the dim cave and turned a few sharp corners before walking into a small room. The room had a wooden stage held up by clay on the further end of the room. Between him and the stage was about 6 round tables with no more than 4 men at each. This room was even dimmer than the cave leading to it, the only bright light came from a single hanging lamp on stage. The rest of the light came from tiny torches on the tables. Homul sat down and ordered his food and drink while he waited. Soon, an announcer walked onto the stage and told the room of men that a special guest was going to appear shortly. Homul's order came, and he enjoyed it... at least half of it. Homul was just a little over halfway done with his meal when Hercules himself walked on stage, looking even more muscular than usual! Hercules was wearing a cloth outfit that looked like a traditional Greek warrior's outfit with everything but the helmet on. Hercules' orange hair swung around in front of his face as he walked to the center of the stage. Homul noticed how little the covering worked when he saw a dim outline of Hercule's abs and chest. When Hercules was comfortable with where he was standing, he rested his unnaturally large arms beside him. "I spend all day using this body to fight off enemies," Hercules said bouncing his chest. "All-day, all I do is fight fight fight." Hercules lifted his arms and flexed his biceps while his chest continued dancing. "Well, gentlemen, this body isn't just built to fight." Hercules lowered his arms and rubbed his abs. The creases in the fabric stretched over every curve on his stomach. "These abs aren't just pretty, they can thrust my waist forwards so fast that my pelvis can pound into solid rick and shatter columns holding up the greatest temples." Hercules spent the next minute or two exaggerating his strength. He said that his chest could squeeze a lemon dry in the deep muscular valley, his legs can squat buildings and that his arms could pull a boat on land. As Hercules described his power, Hormul's mind was filled his visions of Hercules thrusting into buildings. The thought of his pelvis crashing and banging into things made him zone out. Hormel's visions faded when Hormul heard a tearing sound. The tearing was so loud that Hormul almost thought the cave was falling. Something else was falling instead Hercules' hands were resting behind his head, his elbows sticking out in a position that displayed everything below them. Hercule's hands were nowhere near his waist, yet the cloths around his waist were tearing off like an invisible hand was yanking it towards them. The fabric stretched outwards and split open as it did its best to keep the growth contained. Hercules wasn't just getting hard, he was sprouting a golden tree coated with wide and long veins. Hercules closed his eyes and clenched his teeth to help him concentrate on flexing his godly cock. The covering became a useless pile of thread resting along the top of Hercule's dick. The fabrics that remained were shaken off thanks to the golden and veiny rod dancing and throbbing, shaking everything off. Anyone with blurry vision would have assumed a snake was slithering out of Hercules' body. "It's getting a bit warm in here," Hercules cried out. He grabbed the top of his top covering with his right hand and the bottom with his left. He stretched both arms out away from the shirt, the left arm stretched down and the right stretching up. His hands brought the shirt with them. The ripping noise was a battle cry challenging any man to a battle of manhood. Seam by seam gave way to Hercule's strength. The shirt was like a curtain drawing back to reveal a gorgeous new sculpture honoring the gods. Only, Hercules was more muscular than the statues. His abs popped more, along with every other fiber of testosterone Hercules possessed. Pre was already dripping onto the floor into a white puddle. "It's so hot in here, I'm even sweating through my cock," Hercules joked. The crowd chuckled, unable to take their eyes off of the swinging utter of sperm hanging from Hercules. "anyways," Hercules spoke in a low and steady soft voice, "I'd rather show you what this body can do. Talking means nothing with a body beating this much testosterone in its veins." That line was the cue for a boulder to be rolled out on stage by thee assistants. "Let's lighten the load for the fine boys," Hercules suggested walking over to the boulder. p2 Hercules set both feet on either side of the boulder and pressed the head of his cock against the rock. Now that the side of Hercules' body was facing the audience, Homul could see the full length of Hercules' dick. Homul guessed that his cock had to be at least three times longer than his own. He could strap a full-sized horse cock on his body, and the only difference would be the color and the fact that his cock had a human shape. The size and veiny texture were the same for both Hercules' cock and a horse's cock. That and Hercules' balls were noticeably bigger. Homul couldn't help but wonder that if Hercules' gentiles could rival that of a breeding horse, how did his hormones compare? Was Hercules' as horny as a breeding horse? Was he filled with the same animalistic desire to spread his seed? Just like the sound of the tearing of Hercules' clothes, Homul's visions and fantasies of Hercules' body were faded out by the sound of ripping. Only this time, Homul wasn't picturing Hercules thrusting into stone on a building, he was watching Hercules thrust into stone right in front of him on stage. Somehow, it was even hotter than he imagined. Hercules' cock was ripping a hole into the stone like his head was an ax. Hercules didn't even look like jamming his dick into a boulder was painful, he was smiling like he was casually thrusting into any another mate. Dust and sand flew everywhere as Hercules pounded his body into the stone. With each thrust, Hercules dug slightly deeper into the rock. His balls swung around vigorously. No one in the audience said anything. They were soaking up the site of Hercules proving how masculine he was. His ability to rip his clothes off with nothing but his cock seemed like a simple party trick compared to this. When half of the harder than rock cock was inside of the boulder, Hercules speed up his thrusting. Homul didn't realize how slow Hercules was truly hammering his body into the stone until now. Hercules was swinging his waste faster than a tree branch in a storm. With each stroke his cock's head made inside the tunnel, it was digging, an eruption of dust flew out of the hole like a small explosion. A faint humming of sloshing filled the room. Homul didn't know if the wet-sounding humming was coming from Hercules' sweaty cock rubbing against the stone, or the sperm in his utter-like sack slapping against the inner walls of his testicles, or both. "If I could," Hercules calmly told the audience, "I would use my body to fight off our enemies. If my body can drill a hole into a rock like this, imagine what it could do to an enemy's skull! I could grab their head and slam it against my throbbing flesh. Their head would shatter into a thousand pieces!" After Hercules said this, the final few inches of his cock entered the stone. When all of his cock was inside, Hercules calmly inserted his cock into the hole he drilled and rested against the rock. Hercules breathed in and out, and leaned his arms on top of the rock, and Homul assumed this was the end of the show. "That was fun," Hercules said, "But it's still a bit heavy, isn't it?" Hercules pulled out, then hammered one final powerful thrust into the rock. A thunderous cracking sound echoed around the room, and the stone split in half. The two halves of the rock fell, revealing Hercules' cock standing there throbbing like nothing unusual was happening. Hercules grabbed the bottom end of his cock with his left hand and the top end with his right. "Ow," Hercules smirked. The audience quietly laughed. The men from earlier came back on stage and picked up one half of the stone as if it were a simple piece of furniture and carried it off stage. They came back to move the other half of the rock, leaving Hercules alone on stage. Once Hercules had the stage to himself, he quickly stretched a few muscles and turned back around to face the audience. "We know how hard my cock is, but how strong is it," Hercules asked the crowd. That was the cue for 4 full-grown men to walk onto the stage. Each of them were wearing classic Greek Armour, including the helmet. The 4 men, one at a time quietly swung their legs over Hercules' cock as if they were about to ride a horse. Once their bodies were standing over Hercules' giant flesh, they all picked their feet off the ground at the same time. Hercules held the 4 men up with nothing but his cock. His throbbing pole of meat held their weight effortlessly. Hercules even placed both hands behind his back to show off the fact that he was holding them up by only his enormous dick. "How many reps can you do," one of the men asked. Hercules clenched his teeth and flexed his dick, the men rose and fell with his cock. "One," Hercules said through his clenched teeth. Hercules flexed his cock just over 60 times before he told the men that he was getting bored. Hercules was bouncing the men on his pole for nearly 10 minutes, so the men were getting bored too. Hercules showed no sign of tiring out, so they just decided that Hercules could keep bouncing them all night and left the stage. When Hercules had the stage to himself again, he lifted both arms and flew his biceps. His biceps were massive. His left bicep had one singular vein sticking out of the top. "I already know how strong my arms are... but how strong is my body below my arms? Not my abs, my balls. How strong is the pressure behind my ejaculation? How far can I shoot a load?" Hercules kept his left arm flexed and used his right arm to point to the back of the room. A man is the same Greek Armour as the other 4 men was holding a Greek vase above his head. "Maybe this far," the man suggested. Hercules lowered his arms, placing his left hand on his balls and his right on his still-hard cock. He jerked his foreskin and measured the distance between the end of his meat and the top of the vase. "Maybe," Hercules said, "but I'll need help if I'm gonna make it that far." Two men walked out onto either side of the stage, both of them brought a small wooden stool with them. Each stool was slightly shorter than Hercules' waist. Both men sat down cracked their knuckles while Hercules rested his arms on their shoulders. "Ready," the man on the left asked. "Fire away boys," Hercules cried out. The man on the left grabbed Hercules' dick with both hands and jerked it so hard that the rubbing of the foreskin against the rod underneath sounded just like a small waterfall. The other man grabbed each testicle in each hand and squeezed the like a cow's utter. Hercules moaned, nearly losing control of his voice. He knew the men were going to do this, but he was still taken away by how aggressive they were. It didn't take long for pre to drip out. "Here it comes!" Hercules positioned his waist upwards so that his imminent ejaculation would shot towards the ceiling. Hercules felt weaker and weaker while his body braced. White liquid dripped from his cock very slowly for a few brief moments. It dripped out slowly, one drop growing on the tip until it was heavy enough to fall. The next round of pre drizzled out in small bursts. One small load after another flowed out, each load heavier than the load most men carry in their entire sack. Next thing Homul knew, a white arch stretched across the room so far that it 2 feet went past the man holding the vase. White raindrops dripped from the white arch creating a white line on everything underneath. Hercules was ejaculating with so much strength that he wasn't just shooting further than even he expected, but the stream of his seed was one solid river soaring over everyone's head. For more time than anyone could count, Hercules spewed seed with more force than a backed-up volcano. A large portion of Hercules' male milk missed the vase, yet it was over half full when Hercules finally stopped ejaculating. The two men massaged Hercules, assuming that eruption was painful. "Round two," Hercules asked the crowd. p3 The next night, Homul walked back to the Firen Flight only to discover that the previous guard, along with Hercules, weren't there. "Sorry little dude," the new guard told Homul as he hung his head in disappointment. Homul was so disappointed that he could almost feel his meat crawl into his waist from being so turned off. "he'll probably be back tomorrow," the new guard told him with a reassuring grin. Homul grinned back to be polite. "Thanks," he said and walked away. Homul's feet felt heavier as he dragged them back into town. He walked through the dark countryside of Greece remembering everything Hercules did on stage with little to no effort. He could hear all of the men in the room cheering Hercules on. In fact, he really could hear someone scream Hercules. He thought it was all in his head until the screaming and cheering for Hercules became too loud for him to ignore. these screams weren't in his head... they were real... but where were they coming from? they weren't coming from his own horny mind, they were coming from someone's horny voice outside of his mind. Homul followed the soft and muffled screams to a river hidden deep in the Greek mountains. The sound seemed to be riding inside the mist rising from a waterfall upstream. The waterfall was loud, but the moans of Hercules' name were louder. Homul walked up to the waterfall certain that they were coming from under the waterfall. "Are you ok," a voice that sounded like Hercules asked from under the waterfall. "I've taken centaurs dozens of times," a voice that reminded him of the guard from last night responded. As Homul snuck up closer the voice continued with "but they feel like tiny fingers compared to you... ok... wow... that's way bigger than anything I've ever taken before!" Something interrupted the voice's train of thought. He could barely get one word out. Homul was now so close that he could see a torchlight from under the water. He discovered that the light was coming from a tunnel under the waterfall. The tunnel walls echoed the heavy breathing of who he assumed was the guard buried under Hercules. "The centaurs might be half horse but they aren't half god... are they?" This confirmed that he was truly hearing the voice of Hercules echo out of the tunnel. "No... they, they, they aren't," the other voice chocked up. "I can feel the difference... centaurs are softer than this!" "How hard can Hercules get," Homul asked himself. "I can see the difference too... your head is poking out and rolling up and down my stomach like a boulder is rolling around my insides!" This was too much for Homul to ignore. He quietly walked into the cave to see this rolling bulge for himself. when Homul cut the corner of the cave he realized the guard wasn't kidding. The two men were on a cheap and quickly-built looking bed, and you really could see Hercules poking through like a ball rolling up and down his skin. The shadows created by the dimly burning torch on the wall behind the bed defined the moving lump in the guard's body. Homul slowly hardened as he watched. Hercules was in the outfit he was most famous for, but the loose bottom half of the outfit did next to nothing to keep Hercules "contained." Hercules was wearing his usual covering, yet, somehow, Homul could still see his balls flapping around. His sack reminded him of clothes drying on a windy day... they were thrown around all over the place. Were his testicles bigger than before? They seemed to be covered in more veins too. Homul assumed his cock was even veinier too, but he couldn't be sure because it was deep inside the guard. "I'm really, close... I'm sorry," Hercules apologized in a sincere voice that was still erotic. "We've been here for a while," the guard said shocked. He took a few more breaths and said "How have you not cum already? I would have cum three times by now!" Hercules was clearly about to say something, but his ejaculation interrupted him. Homul could hear Hercules' cum slapping against the guard's stomach. The bulge in the guard's stomach grew so plump that it covered Hercules' cock completely. His stomach rose and rose as Hercules seemed to have no limit. How much sperm can one man hold? His balls were huge but they didn't look like they held THAT much. When Hercules finished, he rubbed the guard's swollen belly to calm him down. The guard's face was red, bright red, but he was still grinning. The guard loved every last sperm cell filling him up. He felt a million degrees warmer... like he swallowed the sun whole... and he loved it. "God's can't impregnate men right?" Hercules laughed without answering. "Maybe," he said. Hercules pulled his cock out and let his load flow out of the guard's hole. His stomach flattened as the cum poured out like white molasses. "What does that mean," he asked Hercules with a shaky voice. "It's happened before. A god's seed is so strong that it can fuse with the sperm of another man and breed just as much as it would breed a female. "Ok," he said, "I would love your offspring inside of me anyways. If I do get pregnant, I want to breed an army with you. We could impregnate the land with warriors like you impregnate me. "Don't have to tell me twice," Hercules said gripping his testicles... as if to say he wants to breed that army right now.
  3. LionBUff

    Hanging Herc 2

    Hercules set both feet on either side of the boulder and pressed the head of his cock against the rock. Now that the side of Hercules' body was facing the audience, Homul could see the full length of Hercules' dick. Homul guessed that his cock had to be at least three times longer than his own. He could strap a full-sized horse cock on his body, and the only difference would be the color and the fact that his cock had a human shape. The size and veiny texture were the same for both Hercules' cock and a horse's cock. That and Hercules' balls were noticeably bigger. Homul couldn't help but wonder that if Hercules' gentiles could rival that of a breeding horse, how did his hormones compare? Was Hercules' as horny as a breeding horse? Was he filled with the same animalistic desire to spread his seed? Just like the sound of the tearing of Hercules' clothes, Homul's visions and fantasies of Hercules' body were faded out by the sound of ripping. Only this time, Homul wasn't picturing Hercules thrusting into stone on a building, he was watching Hercules thrust into stone right in front of him on stage. Somehow, it was even hotter than he imagined. Hercules' cock was ripping a hole into the stone like his head was an ax. Hercules didn't even look like jamming his dick into a boulder was painful, he was smiling like he was casually thrusting into any another mate. Dust and sand flew everywhere as Hercules pounded his body into the stone. With each thrust, Hercules dug slightly deeper into the rock. His balls swung around vigorously. No one in the audience said anything. They were soaking up the site of Hercules proving how masculine he was. His ability to rip his clothes off with nothing but his cock seemed like a simple party trick compared to this. When half of the harder than rock cock was inside of the boulder, Hercules speed up his thrusting. Homul didn't realize how slow Hercules was truly hammering his body into the stone until now. Hercules was swinging his waste faster than a tree branch in a storm. With each stroke his cock's head made inside the tunnel, it was digging, an eruption of dust flew out of the hole like a small explosion. A faint humming of sloshing filled the room. Homul didn't know if the wet-sounding humming was coming from Hercules' sweaty cock rubbing against the stone, or the sperm in his utter-like sack slapping against the inner walls of his testicles, or both. "If I could," Hercules calmly told the audience, "I would use my body to fight off our enemies. If my body can drill a hole into a rock like this, imagine what it could do to an enemy's skull! I could grab their head and slam it against my throbbing flesh. Their head would shatter into a thousand pieces!" After Hercules said this, the final few inches of his cock entered the stone. When all of his cock was inside, Hercules calmly inserted his cock into the hole he drilled and rested against the rock. Hercules breathed in and out, and leaned his arms on top of the rock, and Homul assumed this was the end of the show. "That was fun," Hercules said, "But it's still a bit heavy, isn't it?" Hercules pulled out, then hammered one final powerful thrust into the rock. A thunderous cracking sound echoed around the room, and the stone split in half. The two halves of the rock fell, revealing Hercules' cock standing there throbbing like nothing unusual was happening. Hercules grabbed the bottom end of his cock with his left hand and the top end with his right. "Ow," Hercules smirked. The audience quietly laughed. The men from earlier came back on stage and picked up one half of the stone as if it were a simple piece of furniture and carried it off stage. They came back to move the other half of the rock, leaving Hercules alone on stage. Once Hercules had the stage to himself, he quickly stretched a few muscles and turned back around to face the audience. "We know how hard my cock is, but how strong is it," Hercules asked the crowd. That was the cue for 4 full-grown men to walk onto the stage. Each of them were wearing classic Greek Armour, including the helmet. The 4 men, one at a time quietly swung their legs over Hercules' cock as if they were about to ride a horse. Once their bodies were standing over Hercules' giant flesh, they all picked their feet off the ground at the same time. Hercules held the 4 men up with nothing but his cock. His throbbing pole of meat held their weight effortlessly. Hercules even placed both hands behind his back to show off the fact that he was holding them up by only his enormous dick. "How many reps can you do," one of the men asked. Hercules clenched his teeth and flexed his dick, the men rose and fell with his cock. "One," Hercules said through his clenched teeth. Hercules flexed his cock just over 60 times before he told the men that he was getting bored. Hercules was bouncing the men on his pole for nearly 10 minutes, so the men were getting bored too. Hercules showed no sign of tiring out, so they just decided that Hercules could keep bouncing them all night and left the stage. When Hercules had the stage to himself again, he lifted both arms and flew his biceps. His biceps were massive. His left bicep had one singular vein sticking out of the top. "I already know how strong my arms are... but how strong is my body below my arms? Not my abs, my balls. How strong is the pressure behind my ejaculation? How far can I shoot a load?" Hercules kept his left arm flexed and used his right arm to point to the back of the room. A man is the same Greek Armour as the other 4 men was holding a Greek vase above his head. "Maybe this far," the man suggested. Hercules lowered his arms, placing his left hand on his balls and his right on his still-hard cock. He jerked his foreskin and measured the distance between the end of his meat and the top of the vase. "Maybe," Hercules said, "but I'll need help if I'm gonna make it that far." Two men walked out onto either side of the stage, both of them brought a small wooden stool with them. Each stool was slightly shorter than Hercules' waist. Both men sat down cracked their knuckles while Hercules rested his arms on their shoulders. "Ready," the man on the left asked. "Fire away boys," Hercules cried out. The man on the left grabbed Hercules' dick with both hands and jerked it so hard that the rubbing of the foreskin against the rod underneath sounded just like a small waterfall. The other man grabbed each testicle in each hand and squeezed the like a cow's utter. Hercules moaned, nearly losing control of his voice. He knew the men were going to do this, but he was still taken away by how aggressive they were. It didn't take long for pre to drip out. "Here it comes!" Hercules positioned his waist upwards so that his imminent ejaculation would shot towards the ceiling. Hercules felt weaker and weaker while his body braced. White liquid dripped from his cock very slowly for a few brief moments. It dripped out slowly, one drop growing on the tip until it was heavy enough to fall. The next round of pre drizzled out in small bursts. One small load after another flowed out, each load heavier than the load most men carry in their entire sack. Next thing Homul knew, a white arch stretched across the room so far that it 2 feet went past the man holding the vase. White raindrops dripped from the white arch creating a white line on everything underneath. Hercules was ejaculating with so much strength that he wasn't just shooting further than even he expected, but the stream of his seed was one solid river soaring over everyone's head. For more time than anyone could count, Hercules spewed seed with more force than a backed-up volcano. A large portion of Hercules' male milk missed the vase, yet it was over half full when Hercules finally stopped ejaculating. The two men massaged Hercules, assuming that eruption was painful. "Round two," Hercules asked the crowd.
  4. Original Story: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/36778138/ Follow my main FA Account for more stories like this: https://www.furaffinity.net/gallery/lionbuff/ Audio: HANGING HERC Homul walked down a dark path behind the town's pub towards a cave deep in the mountains of Greece. The path leads to a farmer's house on the other side of the mountains, but there was a special spot along the trail Hormul was after. A dimly lit cage-like door with the words "Firen Flight" greeted him. The door was covering a cave entirely lit by touches that were at least half burned out. A tall man in a Greek shoulder uniform holding a clay tablet guarded the gate door. "May I come in," Homul asked. The intimidating man looked at his tablet to think about his answer. Homul was worried that the Firen Flight wasn't as secret as he hoped and that he would be told to leave thanks to the crowd. He desperately hoped this wasn't true, he desperately needed a break. A friend of his told him how to get to the secluded Firen Flight deep in the mountains and told Homul that it was his favorite way to relax his mind. The man looked down at his tablet and saw that the Firen Flight was well below capacity. "It's pretty slow tonight, go ahead," The guard told Homul. Homul was so excited that he almost tripped over himself walking in. He walked down the dim cave and turned a few sharp corners before walking into a small room. The room had a wooden stage held up by clay on the further end of the room. Between him and the stage was about 6 round tables with no more than 4 men at each. This room was even dimmer than the cave leading to it, the only bright light came from a single hanging lamp on stage. The rest of the light came from tiny torches on the tables. Homul sat down and ordered his food and drink while he waited. Soon, an announcer walked onto the stage and told the room of men that a special guest was going to appear shortly. Homul's order came, and he enjoyed it... at least half of it. Homul was just a little over halfway done with his meal when Hercules himself walked on stage, looking even more muscular than usual! Hercules was wearing a cloth outfit that looked like a traditional Greek warrior's outfit with everything but the helmet on. Hercules' orange hair swung around in front of his face as he walked to the center of the stage. Homul noticed how little the covering worked when he saw a dim outline of Hercule's abs and chest. When Hercules was comfortable with where he was standing, he rested his unnaturally large arms beside him. "I spend all day using this body to fight off enemies," Hercules said bouncing his chest. "All-day, all I do is fight fight fight." Hercules lifted his arms and flexed his biceps while his chest continued dancing. "Well, gentlemen, this body isn't just built to fight." Hercules lowered his arms and rubbed his abs. The creases in the fabric stretched over every curve on his stomach. "These abs aren't just pretty, they can thrust my waist forwards so fast that my pelvis can pound into solid rick and shatter columns holding up the greatest temples." Hercules spent the next minute or two exaggerating his strength. He said that his chest could squeeze a lemon dry in the deep muscular valley, his legs can squat buildings and that his arms could pull a boat on land. As Hercules described his power, Hormul's mind was filled his visions of Hercules thrusting into buildings. The thought of his pelvis crashing and banging into things made him zone out. Hormel's visions faded when Hormul heard a tearing sound. The tearing was so loud that Hormul almost thought the cave was falling. Something else was falling instead Hercules' hands were resting behind his head, his elbows sticking out in a position that displayed everything below them. Hercule's hands were nowhere near his waist, yet the cloths around his waist were tearing off like an invisible hand was yanking it towards them. The fabric stretched outwards and split open as it did its best to keep the growth contained. Hercules wasn't just getting hard, he was sprouting a golden tree coated with wide and long veins. Hercules closed his eyes and clenched his teeth to help him concentrate on flexing his godly cock. The covering became a useless pile of thread resting along the top of Hercule's dick. The fabrics that remained were shaken off thanks to the golden and veiny rod dancing and throbbing, shaking everything off. Anyone with blurry vision would have assumed a snake was slithering out of Hercules' body. "It's getting a bit warm in here," Hercules cried out. He grabbed the top of his top covering with his right hand and the bottom with his left. He stretched both arms out away from the shirt, the left arm stretched down and the right stretching up. His hands brought the shirt with them. The ripping noise was a battle cry challenging any man to a battle of manhood. Seam by seam gave way to Hercule's strength. The shirt was like a curtain drawing back to reveal a gorgeous new sculpture honoring the gods. Only, Hercules was more muscular than the statues. His abs popped more, along with every other fiber of testosterone Hercules possessed. Pre was already dripping onto the floor into a white puddle. "It's so hot in here, I'm even sweating through my cock," Hercules joked. The crowd chuckled, unable to take their eyes off of the swinging utter of sperm hanging from Hercules. "anyways," Hercules spoke in a low and steady soft voice, "I'd rather show you what this body can do. Talking means nothing with a body beating this much testosterone in its veins." That line was the cue for a boulder to be rolled out on stage by thee assistants. "Let's lighten the load for the fine boys," Hercules suggested walking over to the boulder. TO BE CONTINUED...
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