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  1. My Big Black Bodybuilder Boyfriend "Ugh, where is he? He's always late." I say, looking at my phone every minute or so. Me and Tayce always take a break every Saturday to stop and have coffee downtown. I regret being so caught up in my studies that we didn't spend as much time together this month but I was in the last few weeks of my studies and I could spend all the time as I wanted with him. I don't know why I was expecting him to just call me when he was down the street or something, his hands had already grown too large to use one without it breaking to pieces. I just saw him when I did and enjoyed our time together. It wasn't nothing to spot that big hunk of a man a mile away. Like a scene in Jurassic Park where the water ripples in the cup as my drink did the same. I could hear the loud steps of his feet slam into the sidewalk. I looked up to see my boyfriend walking towards me. Well, walking is not really what he's doing at this point. His thighs had grown so large that the rolled and collided with each other as he continued making his way. Each step with his size 18 feet could have left an impression on the concrete if he stepped down hard enough. I looked at him and he looked at me back with his eyes glowing like honey as he flashed his pearly whites at me. A man could have dropped dead looking at such a freak of nature. He was barely 6feet tall but wide enough to take up the sidewalk AND much more. I could tell he had grown since last week. Hell, he's been growing bit and bit week after week. I should know, I'm the one ordering his clothes for him. Such a genetic freak as his chin and beard rested of his gigantic pecs. So large in fact that a man could stand under them for shade at this point. His nipples pushing the fabric of his shirt outwards as I could tell he had stopped getting them milked to releave some of the pressure building up in those babies. His shirt looking like a crop top at this point as his roid gut bounced with each step he took as well. He could see me watching and he stopped briefly to pump a bicep. It wasn't just for me as some other men sitting nearby and ever across the street all watching him radiate pleasure. Tayce just had that effect on people as these other folks were clearly in lust with him. It was a fact that a man of his stature and girth would have men either bulging in their pants, some so bold as to even whip out their cocks to worship him. He radiated testosterone, so much that it wasn't a normal day if some stranger wasn't on their knees, begging to worship my boyfriend. I didn't mind one bit. Even with all his power, it was like I wasn't affected by it. Sure I would go head over heels for this man, but I was able to connect with him on a level no man could. I remember him when he was just shy over 200lbs. It was 2 years ago at a local gym. I was the new shy-guy sterotype getting used to the gym and he was working there as a personal trainer. Maybe it was then he was already working something over me but he was just as handsome as he was then as he was right now. Strangely enough, it felt like love at first sight as he came to help me when I was struggling just to get the treadmill working right. He came and asked me if I needed help and not even 30 minutes later was he railing me in the supply closet. A week went by, I kept going up there. Not so much to work out but to spend time with Tayce. A month later of seeing him did I overhear him telling another worker that he still aimed to get bigger, to be the biggest freak. And I would do anything to help him. I snuck onto the university I was going to and managed to sneak out with a growth hormone they were testing on to help build muscles in lab rats. When the time was right, I mixed the hormone off in his water bottle and crossed my fingers at the thought of him being who he always dreamed of. By the next week, my dream (and his) had came true. I came in to the gym to find him easily twice his weight. He was already fit but now he was looking like an off season bodybuilder at this point. It was something to see him wearing clothes that did nothing to hide his new physique and something in him just clicked when he saw me. Next thing you know, he's railing me in the closet again. It feels much more cramped now, but in a good way as I can feel his muscles resting on my back as my ass is stretched even wider than before. He grew in a lot more places as I quickly found out. By then we had been seeing each other more and as evil as what I did to him sound I still had to come clean to how he had grown so huge. The confession had took him by shock. I wouldn't have been mad if he wanted no more out of me. He stood slack jawed as he stood on the rooftop of the gym and he suddenly grabbed me and gave me a kiss that just blew me away. He told me that if he knew I was the one who helped him grow to his size that he would have invited me over when he practically grew that night. A lot had happened since then. We continued seeing each other and getting to know each other better. Time went by and even after the one dosage I gave him he still continued growing. The growth spurts were less frequent, but who knows how long before the effects finally stopped. I couldn't tell, no way to take samples from him. In addition to growing huge, he also seemed to be more resistant to any type of damage. Needles couldn't penetrate the skin at that point. I even witnessed a car crash right into him. We were walking down the street together and next thing you know he has me curled up into him as car parts flew all around us. It's hard to stay focused on the road when a 700lb bodybuilder is walking down the street. We were both unscathed and poor guy fell out of his car; in shock and in lust. Eventually the equipment at the gym wasn't heavy enough to give him a real workout. That and the constant eyeballing and worship by the people coming in there and the people who actually worked there distracted Tayce from getting a real pump so for now he gets paid to haul cars at the junkyard on the edge of town. While Tayce loved the attention he was getting from everyone, he also did enjoy peace and quiet now and then. If I wasn't stuck studying, I would spend most my nights with him. No one bothered us and I would have full view of his glory for my eyes only. He would lift cars like it was nothing. Sometimes with two hands, sometimes one. His biceps would look like beach balls when they were fully swole. As he showed off for me, I would always rub my hands along his body. It was no surprise when he told me that men would empty wallets and bank accounts just to have personal time with him. Tayce probably thought I would be the jealous type but I loved the thought of him taking advantage of something 3, 4 times smaller than him. "Whatever you do on your own time is all you. I love you Tayce and that's all that matters. That and as I long as I get to have my time with you is fine with me." It was words like that that sent him over the edge. I wasn't that short compared to him, but it was like climbing Mount Everest sometimes when I wanted to get close to him. He was already naked, but a loud crash from the car he dropped and I was right there with him as my clothes fell to the ground behind me. We kissed passionately as I felt something large and massive prop up behind me. When I said he grew, he grew everywhere. Tayce had already the stereotypical monster cock when I first saw him, but now it was even bigger. His cock was so massive and freakishly large it was like something you'd see on a morph site. It was easily 4 feet long and thick as my waist as I could feel the heat practically radiating off my back. "Fuck baby, I need it in me so bad." Now way a normal human could take something like that without irreparable damage, but I found out one night when we got so caught up love making that I was able to take it with no damage what-so-ever. A happy side effect from when he still growing every time he made love to me it seems. It felt amazing watching his cock push into me and any excuse to have it rammed inside me was all I wanted as I was already bent over some scrap as he was pointing his black missle straight at my aching hole. I heard his heavy footsteps as his monster pushed into my ass as I could feel it expand to take his cock. Immediately did it enter did my stomach stretch as the head of his cock pushed into me. I rolled my eyes, moaning loudly for him to hear as a free hand felt the head of his cock bulging my stomach out. My knees nearly gave out as I slowly being fucked senseless by my hulk sized boyfriend. He managed to grab my hips as best as he could as he fucked my brains out. The thunderous slaps of his tree trunk thighs echoed in the night as his muscle gut rested on my back. I rolled my eyes as I could feel his cock rumble inside me. Tayce suddenly pumped a double bicep as he roared as he came inside me. I was already comically stretched but it was even more apparent as his cum flooded my insides. By the time Tayce was done, he pulled out and I looked 9 months pregnant as my stomach sloshed with his hot cum inside me. Exhausted, I fell on my ass as he slumped right next to me. I laid by his side as his form easily dwarfed mine as he sat next to me. We were both drenched in sweat as I grabbed his arm to curl up by me as my fingers traced the thick veins going up and down it. Eventually we passed out without saying much after and suddenly I heard a loud snap that brought me back to reality. "What are you thinking about love?" Said Tayce as he was standing next to me outside the shop. I shook my head and rubbed my eyes. "Sorry, sometimes I get so lost in thought whenever I look at you." He grinned and pulled in close to flex a bicep and who was I to say no to such an offer as I rubbed the peak. "Looks bigger, have you been growing again?" I say smirking, taking in a whiff of his strong masculine scent. Tayce grinned. "You know it and I need someone to worship this muscle. Think you can do it?" The grin I gave off easily could have said yes, we would need to leave sooner than expected. I could tell he was going to have a growth spurt sooner than later.
  2. RayWild16

    Cory & The Machine #NSFW

    WARNING: This story contains scenes of a violent nature. Some readers may find these scenes offensive. Please do not read on if you feel like this applies to you. PART ONE “Errrrrrch…” “Twenty-two and a half.” “Aw, c’mon, man!” “Well, pump it, man! C’mon. Squeeze.” “Ah, shit.” “Yeah, man. Twenty-two and three-quarters.” “Arrrrrch!” “Just a little more. One more pump, Cory.” “Ah, God, man. I’m startin’ to cramp.” “Little more. Yeah! Twenty-three!” Cory dropped his arm to his side, but the swollen biceps seemed determined to maintain its size, now that it had been abused for the sake of attaining the magic number. Twenty-three inches. He shook his upper arm and pressed on the release point just below the deltoid until he could bend his arm freely. “Man, Cory. That was beautiful, all pumped up like that. Big block’a biceps sittin’ there. How’s it feel?” I could tell what he wanted to say. I knew what he was feeling. Like it was going to cum. Like the muscle was going to just up and spurt right there on his arm. But Cory wasn’t that way. He kept it all to himself. So I almost mouthed his reply, the same reply he always gave. “Feels alright.” “Yeah. Alright.” I could tell he would need a little time to put things right in his head again, after such an effort. So I left him to brood, or whatever it was he did when he wouldn’t talk to me, and went over to the pec deck. I think he was a little jealous. I had hit the magic mark about a month ago and hadn’t even had to cramp up to get it. But, man, you should see this guy compared to what he looked like just twelve months ago. He’d walked into the gym wearing long sweat pants and a jersey-hooded top. In the middle of summer, yet. I don’t know what he thought he was hiding or why he thought he had to hide it. What showed, though, would have been enough to catch my attention even if his clothes hadn’t. His face was beautiful. Hard, chiseled features just sharp enough to make you hope the body was the same without being severe. Though the clothes were baggy, you could tell they hung on a solid frame. The front of the sweat pants were molded around what seemed to be a rather lengthy protrusion which hung a considerable way down his right pant leg. I thought I just might have found a match for my own ten inches. Everyone else in the place was hunkered down on a piece of gear, too wrapped up with their efforts to worry about what walked through the door. I was working the desk that morning, so it was up to me to see what this walking sauna wanted. “Hi. Can I help you?” “Ah, just looking, actually.” “Lots to look at. I’m Michael.” I extended my hand but was met with a look which asked why. I’m not the type to get annoyed easily, so I figured I’d just wait and let him make the next move. “Anything you might be interested in here?” He ran his gaze up and down my six foot three inch frame and his eyes told me all I needed to know. He wasn’t cruising me. He wanted to have a body like mine. They all did. Everyone who walked into the place started out wanting to have my body. For their own, I mean. Most of them who stuck around ended up getting what they wanted, though it took a while for them to accept the body they were born with. But this guy was different. I tried to see through the layer of fleece to what he had beneath. Hard to tell. But one thing was for sure, except for a little difference in hair color (mine is brown, his blonde) and eyes (my blue to his…God, what was that? Green with little flecks of gold in them…easy, Michael) we were definitely cut from the same mold. If there was anyone who had ever walked through that door who could have my body with the proper amount of work, it was him. And I mean ‘have’ both ways. “How much does it cost to join?” I reached behind the front desk and pulled out a membership agreement which had all the prices on it. As I turned back to hand it to him I saw his eyes zip back up to eye level. I wondered how far down he’d gotten before getting caught. “Here. This will tell you all the membership options. You can have a seat and look it over now, or…” His eyes were locked firmly on mine. “I have severe perceptual dyslexia.” I guess the blank look on my face must have told him… “I can’t read.” No fear. No embarrassment. No remorse. He just couldn’t read, that’s all. “Have a seat. I’ll go over everything with you. You want me to read this to you, or just answer questions.” “Go ahead and read it.” I did. It took about fifteen minutes, with all the ‘thou shalt’s’ and ‘thou shalt not’s.’ At the end, I asked if he had any questions or if he wanted me to go over anything again. “No, thanks. I can remember it all.” I didn’t know what that meant. I mean, if he had an eidetic memory and all, why couldn’t he just read? That dyslexia shit must be a real bitch. “Why don’t you look the place over a bit. You’re welcome to use any of the gear. And most of the folks here are happy to answer questions.” “Okay.” And with that, he headed out onto the floor. He spent the next hour, and I mean a full hour, watching each station be worked by a person. He had a few questions, but seemed to sense the need to let the members get on with their work. But it wasn’t hard to see that each encounter was a pleasant experience for each person he interacted with. It must have been the gold flecks. I sat back down at the desk to do paperwork, glancing up occasionally to see how he was doing. I finally decided he was going to behave himself and got lost in my duties. At one point I looked up to find him standing before me at the desk. I had no idea how long he had been there. His eyes locked onto mine and wouldn’t let go. “So?” He looked like he had already made up his mind. “I’ll start with a six-month membership without the classes option. I’ll provide my own lock and I’ve got insurance already.” “Well, that doesn’t leave me much to ask except how you want to…” “American Express.” Now what’s a guy who can’t read doing with an AMEX card? I was quickly learning that this “can’t read” thing was more of a big deal for me than it was for him. He took it out of his wallet. Platinum? What the hell’s going on here? I ran it through the verifier and entered an amount double of what his membership would cost; standard practice to cover incidentals and such. He caught my look of amazement when it came back with an approval code. He signed the credit slip with a scrawl that looked only slightly less decipherable than most people’s signatures. We filled in the forms together, him supplying answers, me the pen work. I thought he would clam up when it got to the personal data, but he fed it to me like it was my business to know and his to tell. “What’s your first name?” “Cory.” I wondered if his folks had known he would grow up beautiful enough to carry that name proudly. I knew it had to be either Cory or Stefan. “Middle initial.” “S.” I didn’t ask. We finished the form — I have to admit I was disappointed that the address he gave was a post office box — and then I took him back to the locker room, assigned him a locker and showed him where the towels and such were. Each time I indicated a location of something his eyes would flick to the spot for an instant and then back to me. His eyes hardly ever left mine. But instead of feeling threatened or uncomfortable, I felt like he was really interested in what I had to offer him. I straddled one of the benches that ran between the lockers and indicated he should do the same. He didn’t hesitate for an instant but joined me, facing me; his knees just inches from mine. “Look, Cory. I don’t know if this is any of my business, but in a way, I guess it is. I gotta ask. You ever had any experience with this stuff? Y’know. Working out?” “I had a friend who did it. I used to watch him. He had some equipment in his basement that he and his wife would use.” “But you’ve never done this, yourself?” “I tried some of his stuff once in a while.” “I don’t know if you noticed, but most of the folks out there, especially the ones who are really serious, have someone to work with.” “Like my friend and his wife.” “Yeah, though I don’t know too many boy/girl teams.” “They did it just for fun. Said it made the sex better.” I barely was able to keep my eyebrows from hitting the ceiling. I was dying to know what his part in all this was. With surprisingly little effort several scenarios came to mind. “Yeah. It does that, alright. Are you thinking of getting your friend to join the club, as well? Be your workout partner?” “He’s dead. They died in a car crash a few months ago. His mom said I could have the gear if I wanted it, but I didn’t know what to do with it.” This was getting weirder by the minute. Cory narrowed his gaze just a bit. He asked me, “Do you have a workout partner?” My old partner — partner in workouts, partner in business, partner in just about everything else in my life — my old partner had decided life on the coast was too much, or too little, or too — something — for him. Six months ago he‘d split, leaving an envelope with a terse note of apology and the papers to his half of the business signed over to me and notarized. He had even taken care of having his mail forwarded, so I didn’t even have the pleasure of NOT forwarding anything to him that might have appeared in my mailbox — not that I would ever have stooped to such a petty act of revenge, but he didn’t even leave me the opportunity to decide that. So it was as if I’d written: ASK ME IF I HAVE A WORKOUT PARTNER… AND WHILE YOU’RE AT IT, ASK ABOUT MY SEX LIFE, TOO in bold letters across my forehead with a red indelible marker. No, I had no workout partner. And then, Cory said the magic words; words I had been beaming into his mind, willing him to say. “It seems to me that if I were to work with you, it would be easy, us being so similar in build, and all.” Damn! Did that actually work? I wondered just how similar ‘similar’ was. I had on a pair of cut-off sweats that reached down to just above my knees and a tank top, so he had little trouble seeing what I had. He, on the other hand, was still wrapped up like Nanook of the North. I figured I had to take a chance. “Kinda hard to tell, with all that clothing you have on.” Cory immediately stood up and unzipped the jersey top, allowing the front to fall open. There seemed to be a brief moment of decision, then he pulled the two sides apart and shrugged it off his shoulders. It fell to the floor. So did my jaw. Chiseled. Like from a block of translucent marble. I mean, we’re talking individual fibers of muscle glowing underneath nicely tanned, flawless, blemish-less, hair-free skin. And did I mention the veins? Big fat ones over each biceps. Thick over his hairless forearms. Millions of them all over his hairless pecs. And did I mention his pecs? Hard. Flat. Very solid. His nipples were long and thick. And very erect. Not a lot of bulk on his frame, but not a lot else, either. I guessed maybe three or four percent body fat. Not starving or anorexic. Just hard. Like my cock. And did I mention my cock? My cock began to stir and I wondered if I should even pretend to be worried about him seeing me get hard. His eyes were still locked on mine, searching for something. I waited to see if he would flash a look at my crotch, but they stayed even, steady. I tried to be as polite, but curiosity got the better of me. I intended to just let them drift down, as though I was professionally appraising his body for future reference, but by the time I got to the flat, rippled surface of his abdominals, I had given up all pretense. And, sure enough, as my gaze ran down to his waist, I could not help catch a glimpse of what was steadily, very dramatically, becoming an insistent bulge in his pant-leg. And did I mention thick? I mean, like mine thick. Cory’s cock grew harder, thicker, quicker than I had ever seen a cock grow hard and thick. I thought he might pass out from the loss of blood elsewhere. I mean, I’ve gotten a little light-headed when my tool started draining off too much blood too quickly. Like now. It was a good thing I was sitting down. Or at least it was until I started really getting hard. Then it became really uncomfortable really fast. When I finally pulled my eyes away from the swelling that decorated Cory’s leg, I found myself still locked in his gaze. No irascible smile. No mischievous grin. No sly raising of the eyebrows, asking wordless questions, raising unthinkable hopes. Just that same, steady scrutiny. I didn’t even know if he was waiting for anything. What was I supposed to do? Strip, as well? “Nice.” Cory’s head cocked to the side a bit. “What?” The question startled me. Didn’t he know what he looked like? Didn’t he know what affect he was having on me? “Your body. Nice. Good foundation there. You set your mind to it and I could have you big as me in a year.” I was hoping to get him to extend his membership. “One year?” “Yeah. I think so. You gotta be ready to work, though.” “I work. That’s not a problem. When do we start?” How about tonight? My place? “How about tomorrow morning? I’ve got a guy that comes in and covers the desk in the morning so I can get my own routine in.” “That’s fine. What time?” “Eight o’clock?” “Fine.” My eyes dropped intentionally to his erection which was pressing with great persistence against the fabric of his sweats. This guy was hung. Thick, long, and…and…leaking. Man, I couldn’t believe the size of the wet spot which was spreading out just a couple of inches above his right knee. And he seemed to be completely unconcerned about it. Not the least bit uncomfortable, either physically or emotionally. Did he walk around with a ten inch hard-on and a gallon of pre-cum dripping down his leg all the time so that it didn’t even matter? “You seem to have developed quite a leak there.” “Yeah. Happens all the time.” “You ever, uh, take care of it?” “Sometimes. Sometimes I just leave it alone and it goes away after a while.” The guy gets a ten inch iron rod down his pant-leg and doesn’t even want to do anything about it? Man. I mean, I’d heard of self-abuse, but this was ridiculous. And here I was, my own cock so hard and throbbing it was beginning to peek out from the bottom of my shorts. I could feel my rather considerable balls begin to churn and I thought I was going to cum in sympathy for what this guy must be experiencing. Finally, I couldn’t stand it any more. “You want me to take care of that for you?” “Sure. If you want. Can you make it hurt?” That did it. The floodgates opened and three feet of bench before me was suddenly slathered with a thick coating of my hot, unexpected cum. Look, ma. No hands! And Cory was just as suddenly down on his belly on the bench, licking up every last drop of that sudden deluge. I mean, I’d seen lines of coke disappear slower than that. And he didn’t stop there. His lips grasped the head of my still protruding cock and licked and cleaned it, allowing me the opportunity to admire the knotted, rigid muscles of his back at close range. When he had completely drained my cock of its contents and licked the exposed portion of it clean, he stood back up and made a motion so swift my eyes could hardly follow it. One second he was clothed from the waist down. The next he was completely naked. Hard thighs. Hard calves. Hard abdominals and obliques. Hard, firm ass. And hard, hard, hard, hard cock. I mean a mean-kinda hard. It didn’t look like I would need to do much to make it hurt. It was already doing a pretty good job on its own. And the reason I knew that was that I was staring right at a duplicate copy of my own prodigious tool. He’s cut were I’m cut. He’s veined were I’m veined. His balls hang down where my balls hang down. And he is thick — and I mean thick — where I’m thick. I knew exactly what this cock wanted. I knew just where to chew, just where to suck, just where to lick and tease, and just how much it wanted to be squeezed. And squeeze I did. I grabbed it with both hands and wrapped my fingers around as far as they would reach. And then I squeezed. I squeezed and pulled it down, forcing it to bend until it was pressed against his bloated ball sac. And then I grabbed that sac and its contents and began to squeeze them as well. I pulled and squeezed and looked up to see what he was feeling. Cory’s eyes were clamped shut, his face screwed up in silent suffering. But there was a look of such joy beneath that exquisite agony I knew he was getting exactly what he needed. And his body was becoming more tense by the minute. Corded muscles, sharp and defined, began to press against each square inch of his skin. His arms raised and reached out, each hand grabbing a lock on a locker and pulling against them. He was not huge, not like me, but he was so cut-up, so hard that I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. Yeah, kid. You want to look like me. Well that goes the same for me. I want to feel the pain you’re feeling; the agony, the pressure, the extreme, pulverizing, ecstatic bliss. I want my mind blown like yours is. I want to not think twice about getting a hard-on and letting my huge balls leak all over whatever I’m wearing. I want to walk up to the nearest guy and tell him to hurt me, knowing — somehow really knowing — the guy will know exactly what it is I need. I bit hard on his shaft. I clamped down with my hands, my huge forearms bulging with veins and muscles. Then I took his balls in my mouth and began to chew on them, as well. I didn’t want to kill the guy. I wasn’t out for blood. But I knew exactly how far to go with this. Cory’s cock grew darker. As mine would. It began to throb. As mine would. It began to leak again. As mine would. As mine was. And then it began to spurt. As mine surely would have, had I not just come a few minutes before, myself. And through it all, he didn’t make a sound. Not a grunt, not a cry, not a whimper, not a plea. And when I had drunk down every last bit of what was one of the biggest loads of jiz I had ever been attacked by, he grabbed my hair, pulled it back, and looked into my eyes. “Feels alright.” So, here it was, almost exactly a year later, and we were both sporting twenty-three inch guns. I’d never seen anyone attack a routine like this guy did. I told him how important it was to let the muscle rest and heal, that it was as important a part of the routine as anything else. But for the first couple of months, it appeared he didn’t believe me. It was like he was racing toward some goal, or like he didn’t believe the goal was even possible, or maybe worth it, without a whole lot of pain and suffering. I mean, I understood about the pain and suffering. What bodybuilder didn’t? But this guy was into it big time. And it just got to the point around the gym that everyone stopped thinking twice about this guy running around with a huge erection and wet spot decorating his right thigh. And you could measure the intensity of his workout by the size of both. It was easy for me, at first. Hell, I had six years of work to my advantage. But he closed the gap quick and soon I was playing catch-up to his thighs. Then when I evened that score, his arms would jump ahead. Then his chest. Then his lats. Then his delts. After 12 months, I still haven’t gotten that one back. This guy’s delts are huge. I don’t want to give the impression I have any regrets about this at all. After six years, I thought I’d reached my peak, physically. Twenty-one and a half inch biceps and a fifty-four inch chest seemed pretty good to me. It was easy for me to maintain my body and not have to do a lot of ridiculous dieting and all the other insane things guys aiming for competition had to do. But then along came hurricane Cory and suddenly I’m anabolic Annie again like I’m going for my first state championship. And it felt good. I mean really good. I was getting to the point where I didn’t even mind the fact that I matched Cory’s incessant hard-on, inch for inch, hour for hour. Because there was always Cory to help me tame the beast. As the size of our physiques grew, so did our appetite for stimulation. I found myself withstanding pain he inflicted on me far beyond what I thought the human body could endure. I would marvel at both our tolerances as we pulled and pressed and stretched and punished each other’s body in our work and play. My balls were so tough that I never had to wear a jock anymore. Whereas before, just walking caused them to swing painfully against my thigh if I wasn’t wearing one, now I could take a direct hit and revel in the cramping pain it brought on. The same was true for the rest of my body. Our lovemaking consisted of a lot of wrestling and exertion, pulling and stretching against each other’s increasing strength. And the harder we fought, the harder we came. And came and came and came. We tried to see who could force his way up the other one’s ass with his thick, juicy cock, but losing was winning, so the effort was for the fun of it, instead. He wouldn’t move in with me. He would come over after I got off work and we would screw and suck each other until the wee hours of the morning then do it all over again the next day. But he would never spend the whole night. I told him I felt a need to be with him after we made love but he said that wasn’t something he was into. So, no matter how deeply we kissed, no matter how hot and hard we fucked, no matter how tightly we held each other as our cocks shot their magnificent loads into each others bodies, he was always quick with the good-bye. At one point I tried to make an issue of it, hoping he would at least talk to me about it, explain his need to get away. But all I got was another indecipherable response. “When the year is up. Wait.” And though it’s been frustrating, it seems he’s going to be good to his word. Over the past few weeks, as the year comes to a close, he has been dropping little hints about something he has in store for us. I know enough now that I won’t even bother to get any more information out of him. His most expressive moment is still at the culmination of the most mind-bending, cock-exploding, ball-busting, muscle-swelling sex free-for-all when his amazing gold-flecked eyes lock onto mine and he says, “Feels alright.” All I can do is wait. It’s just a few more days. End Part One
  3. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person (don't we all wish), living or dead, is purely coincidental. Yes, fictitious animals were harmed in the writing of this book. I am devastated that I was not able to secure certification from the ASPCA due to this fact. Have your pets spayed and neutered. Original version of Feats Of Strength Copyright 1996 © by Ray Wilder. All Rights Reserved. Revised version of Feats Of Strength - The Intense Edition Copyright 2020 © by Ray Wilder. All Rights Reserved The original had a little bit of sexy stuff in the opening scene then calmed down and became a pretty normal, run-of-the-mill-show-it-on-Saturday-morning-television-sword-and-sandals-kinda-feats-of-strength story (if you’d like to see that version, I believe it still resides at nifty). This here is definitely not your grandma’s Feats Of Strength. Not anymore, me bucko. In “The Intense Edition” our hero gets his nut, big time! m/self; m/horses; m/multiple m's; m/big ass trucks; m/I don't want to ruin the surprise; m/mountain NSFW Just warning you. R.W. ================================================================================ When I was young I would wait with great anticipation for the old Muscle Man films to come on television on Saturday mornings. Every once in a while no one else would be home, so I'd take off all my clothes except for my underpants and lay on my back in front of the television with my head on a pillow so I didn't have to hold my head up. On either side of me was a large, over-stuffed armchair with fat, wooden legs. Invariably, someone (usually a woman who obviously had the hots for Muscle Man’s muscles…and other supposed attributes) would try to persuade Muscle Man to do something he didn't want to do. This persuasion usually, but not always, took the form of the Muscle Man being tied between two sets of horses or chariots or the like, sometimes with his friends buried in the dirt so they would be trampled if Muscle Man was unsuccessful in his might. The horses would be whipped and they would attempt to run off in opposite directions and Muscle Man’s huge biceps and pectorals would bulge. He would grimace and groan as the horses tried to pull him apart but the mighty Muscle Man was always just too invincible for the poor animals. Also, invariably, the aforementioned horny queen or princess or high priestess or daughter of Evil Queen would be so impressed with Muscle Man’s prowess that he would be spared death by [fill in evil plot to defeat Muscle Man] and would either be re-imprisoned or put under some spell with a potion of some sort. And a good thing, too. Otherwise the movie was going to be unfortunately brief. After all, Muscle Man still had to kick butt and prove his might, usually by pulling down some temple. As the feat of strength commenced on the tv screen, I would grab a leg of each of the armchairs and begin to pull them towards me, relishing in the way the muscles on my arms and chest felt under the exertion. And I would get hard. Real hard. My cock would stick straight up through the hole in my underpants and the head would be throbbing, right in the line of sight with the television. During one of these movie episodes I noticed I was making progress with moving the armchairs. In fact, they got so close that I wasn't getting the feeling I normally did. I decided to lift up on the chairs instead. My own pecs suddenly jumped in size and an incredible feeling washed over my body. I was working these muscles harder than I ever had before. And there was this Muscle Man on the television moaning and groaning and pulling and bulging. And I started to moan and groan, but it wasn't because I was being pulled apart by horses, though I wished I were. I noticed a small amount of fluid beginning to seep out of the slit in the head of my cock. I pulled on the chairs even more. They began to actually lift off the floor. I had never really equated this kind of effort with the development of large muscles. But at that moment, something surprising happened. Just as the back legs of the chairs lifted off the carpet and my pecs were aching so much I thought they were going to split right through my skin, I achieved my first orgasm by shooting a wad so big that when it came back down and splattered on my chest, it covered my torso almost entirely. It was followed immediately by another one almost as big and then several others that drooled down my rock-hard cock and soaked into the fabric of my underwear. In that moment, my future was locked in place. I began to study the process of body building and the sexual enjoyment which physical exertion beyond the normal endurance of the body brought me. That was quite a few years ago. I kind of have to laugh because, as big as I thought those Muscle Men in the movies were, I am so much bigger than them now that I wonder what I could do with a couple of teams of horses. Or who needs horses? The desert sun shines down mercilessly as I lean against the weight I am pulling across the sands. Two massive chains with links four inches in diameter are attached to my waist. The other ends of the chains are attached to a huge sledge on which sits The Evil Queen and her entire entourage. I am pulling the shaded vehicle through the sand to the Place of Persuasion. This is the fourth time in four days I have been brought here. Or should I say, I have brought them here. Each time I have foiled The Evil Queen’s plans to induce me to become her sex slave. She hopes I will eventually give in, as each trip offers a more severe challenge than the previous one. The first was horses Four of them attached to each of my massive arms. The Evil Queen threatened me with this torture if I did not agree to satisfy her with my enormous cock. Not only did I not acquiesce to her demands, but I remained insultingly flaccid, silently daring her to give the signal to the horsemen. She waved her hand and the struggle began. Actually, I should say the struggle began for the horses, not for me. They pulled in the sand and I pulled back until all eight horses lay dead in the blistering heat. In the hot haze of the sun, I could see her gaze as she noticed I had not become the least bit erect. My cock hung loose between my mighty thighs, my heavy-hanging balls relaxed in their scrotum. The Evil Queen may have hoped I would beg for release from this exertion but instead, I gladly hauled the barge back to the palace with ease and spent that night in chains in my cell. She obviously did not realize how futile a gesture imprisoning me was. As days progressed, it would become more obvious. Much to her chagrin. The second was tug o’war I was again attached to the sliding platform and caused to drag it out to this place. Waiting for me this time were two groups of hugely muscled men. She must have completely drained every gym plus central casting. The enormous collection of beefcakes stood on either side of where I was to stand, each group holding a great length of rope. I took each rope by a loop and braced myself against the pull of dozens of men on either arm. Their muscles bulged but mine bulged larger. One of the thick ropes finally gave way. I could have been dragged through the sand by the men on the other side, but I held my ground, my huge leg muscles swelling until they pressed hard against themselves, thrusting my slightly hardening cock and pumped-up balls forward as if teasing The Evil Queen with a possibility. The Evil Queen ordered the men on the broken rope to grab hold of the rope on my other side and we pulled and tugged at each other until I found a huge rock to brace against. At that point, the battle was over. Half of the men collapsed in exhaustion. The rest were so overcome by my exhibition of strength they all succumbed to their own orgasms, either surrendering the rope of their own accord so they could jerk themselves off or simply spontaneously climaxing with such intensity they could no longer maintain. In this tug-of-war I was also victorious. She was not. This time, the barge was heavier on the return as it was also carrying all the men I had just bested. Most of them were still so overcome with the thought of my enormous strength they were unable to do anything but continue their masturbation all the way back to the castle. Chains awaited me once again in my cell, but I tired of standing as they were too short to allow me to lie down. I grabbed the lengths and pulled. My huge biceps swelled and my pecs swelled and my legs swelled and my cock began to swell and the walls of the cell gave way and the rings to which the chains were attached pulled loose. I lay down and slept, my partially engorged member sustaining the effect of my efforts of this day throughout the night. When the guards came to check on me, they were surprised to see the two gaping holes in the walls of the cell and me still laying there, still partially erect. Why didn’t I escape? Could it be my semi-turgid cock was indicating the level to which I am enjoying these challenges? The third was big-ass trucks I was fitted with a yoke made from a slab of granite. My arms were shackled to it with immense chains and then the barge harness was again attached to my waist. My enormous legs swelled with each step as I carried the stone and dragged the Evil Queen and her party the 5 miles back to the Place of Persuasion. I was surprised to see she was getting hi-tech on me. Waiting this time for my trial were eight large trucks. Each group of four was hitched to a chain harness which came back to were I would stand between them. I walked to the center and placed the shackles on my wrist myself, showing my disdain for her feeble attempts to conquer my strength. I stood proudly between the idling vehicles and waited for them to shift into gear. My huge body, relaxed and un-flexed, was still so enormous that the vehicles already seemed to be insufficient. I am huge. My 32" arms and 66" chest dwarf every man alive. My 48” thighs are so powerful that one kick could send one of these huge trucks flying. My back, so broad a normal person can barely reach across it from shoulder to shoulder, ripples with strength as I adjust myself in preparation for this trial. Huge plates of muscle dance on my chest with each movement. My deltoids are so massive they look like I'm wearing football helmets on my shoulders. The flare of my lats expands from my tight, muscular waist up to this incredible expanse of pure brute force. And I was just standing there. Engines idled. Engines gunned. The chain went taut and I was pulled off my feet for a second. I quickly regained my footing and began to pull against the 12,000 horsepower on each arm that The Evil Queen hopes will threaten to rip me apart. Surely no human body could withstand such a brutal attack on its integrity. She was so sure. Her nostrils flared with the anticipation of either my demise or surrender to her sexual demands. Either way, she would receive great satisfaction. Or so she thought. My enormous cock was semi-erect. She does not understand this. I should be so engulfed with fear for what I was about to experience that sexual arousal would be the last thing on my mind. She had no idea what, in reality, this was doing to me. The trucks engines revved, the tires spun and the air was filled with huge clouds of black smoke from the exhaust and the burning rubber of the tires. I swelled. I throbbed. I was huge and getting more so. My gigantic arms increased in size as I slowly bent them back together, dragging all eight trucks along with me. The air was filled with the sound of screeching transmissions and grinding gears. The drivers were trying to get some advantage but I was too much for all of them. One by one the engines overheated and failed. When the last one sputtered its final belch of smog, I remained standing between them, pumped, very pumped and very big. My huge chest had expanded to over 70" as I took great gasps of oxygen to feed my swollen physique. And my massive, semi-erect cock dripped in a way that signaled my intense reaction to what I had just experienced. I carried the granite yolk back to the castle, but the Evil Queen, for some reason, decided to make the slaves and truck drivers haul her barge back. I think I'm starting to get to her. The holes in the wall of my cell had not been repaired. I guess she figured that if I really wanted to escape, no stone wall would deter me. They were right. I overheard two of the guards speaking, probably for my benefit, that The Evil Queen was having some difficulty in the sexual satisfaction arena and they all hoped, for their own sakes, that I might be the solution to that. Otherwise, The Evil Queen was going to pop a cork, mentally, and drag everyone over the insanity ledge with her. I felt a slight sadness for everyone, but this was not what I was here for. No matter what The Evil Queen had planned for me the next day, I was going to blow this queendom…in more ways than one. The fourth was… So now here I am, back at the Place of Persuasion. Today the crowd on the barge I pull is extremely large. I believe I am hauling over 500 people, not to mention my granite yolk again. As I near the Place of Persuasion, I can see two large vehicles which seem to be sitting on some kind of track. The distance closes and the vehicles turn out to be diesel locomotives. They are facing away from each other and huge, two-meter long chains with links over 12" in diameter are attached to the rear of each one. This gal just doesn't give up. I drag the barge to within a few yards of the track. I want her to have a good view of my final victory. I then toss the granite yolk away like it's a small piece of fabric and again place myself between the two diesels. When I get there, I turn around and discover the Evil Queen has followed me. She says nothing to me. She just stands there and watches as I attach myself to the enormous shackles. I smile. I am ready. She raises her hand for a moment and then drops it. The locomotives come to life and begin to slowly move away from me. The huge chain which attaches these three behemoths, the two engines and myself, slowly lifts until it becomes taught. All by itself, each chain might weigh several tons. Just as my arms are stretched to the maximum, she signals again and the engines stop. I am held firm, but it is really only the weight of the chain which I am holding up. She walks up to me and rubs her hands over my huge chest and plays with the enormous shapes of my body. Her eyes drop to my groin as she takes in the spectacular sight of my length which hangs loosely between my sequoia-sized thighs. She tries to kiss me, but I let my mouth hang slack so all she gets is some loose lip. This offends her and she slaps my face. I laugh. Here I am, strung between two locomotives and she thinks a slap on the face is going to do something? She slaps me again and I laugh again. She doesn't know what this is doing to me. She doesn't know how much I revel in these feats of strength. My body was made to exert huge amounts of power. I long for the opportunity to use my massive muscles to their greatest advantage. Come on. Turn your puny engines loose on me. There is nothing this huge body can't do. The harder you make these magnificent muscles work, the bigger and stronger they get and the harder my cock grows. Let me have it. She is fuming at my insolence. She goes to spit in my face, then remembers we are not without an audience so I guess she figures that would be a very un-Evil-Queen-ly thing to do. I, on the other hand, am reveling in the fact that so many will see me at my greatest. Already, so many of the crowd assembled are driving themselves to the point of completion just seeing my massive dimensions standing so relaxed before them. Instead, she grabs my cock and begins to manipulate it, attempting to stimulate it to erection. I show no sign of stimulation, so she begins to squeeze. Nothing. She pulls and yanks and becomes more severe in her treatment of my cock as her frustration and fury rise. She reaches for my balls and begins to make them suffer, as well. I remain soft in a way that would seem impossible unless I was purposely signaling to her my disdain and total unconcern for what she has planned for me, should I not surrender. I glance down at her hand, cruelly manipulating my manhood. I laugh at her one last time. She gives my balls one final, brutal squeeze, releases them, causing them to swing pendulously behind my outrageously flaccid penis and then she signals to the engine drivers and steps away. This is it. The ultimate feat of strength. No one has ever been this strong. No one has ever been this mighty. I'm working my huge biceps and pecs and the locomotives’ stacks are billowing clouds of diesel smoke and their steel wheels are screeching on the metal track. I'm huge. And I'm strong. So strong. And I'm beating these machines. My hands are moving closer together and my huge pecs are pressing so hard against the inside of my skin they feel like their going to rip open. Huge muscles. Huge strength. And then, much to the frustration and dismay of my torturer, my huge cock now begins to thicken. And lengthen. And harden. And the juices from my overstimulated testicles begin pumping out a constant flow of pre-cum that pools and mixes with the sweat dripping into the sand between my massive thighs. Darker. Thicker. Harder. Rigid beyond anything I have ever experienced before. I can feel it pressing its massive length against the steel-like wall of my abdominal muscles. I am beyond any definition of horny. It has been several days (and nights) since I have blown a load, an interval I am not accustomed to. If it weren’t for the fact that I was proving a point to the Evil Queen, I would customarily have nutted multiple times each day (and night). My hands are shoulder-width apart. My biceps are growing. They are 34" by now. My hands are now two feet apart and I'm pulling with all my might and the power of my muscles is just radiating off me like some kind of glow or something. Everything is getting hot. The chain is hot. The track is hot. The engines are hot and getting hotter. And I am so hot I can't stand it. I have to scream with the joy of the effort. This is the best. This is what this huge body is all about. And my enormous cock begins to celebrate the effort I am enjoying. But rather than causing me to weaken from my explosive orgasm, it feeds my strength, giving me the unimaginable power to conquer the two mechanical monsters lashed to my colossal arms. I aim my thrusting pelvis directly at The Evil Queen and unload a spectacular spew on her. Joyous flights of cum launch from my magnificent cock. I shout in ecstasy at the unbounded pleasure of an orgasm stimulated by the massive exertion I am experiencing. Now the track under the locomotives is starting to warp and buckle. A drive wheel on one of the engines falls off. Then another. Then the other engine fails and now I'm standing between two huge wrecks, their diesels huffing their last breaths. I'm hot. I'm steaming. I'm ready to pulverize the world. I walk forward, dragging the huge chains behind me until they're taut again. I stretch myself forward, my arms bent back until they can bend no more. My pecs are still tectonic plates of strength. My biceps form colossal mountainous peaks, even as they are stretched backward to their limit. My cock hardens even more until it is aching with a pleasure/pain that matches the pleasure/pain I got from this physical exertion. I hold the tension for just a moment longer until I am about to explode. My balls cramp with a joy unbounded, then release one final massive eruption of my masculine, muscular essence, coating all the observers as I conquer this ultimate feat of strength. I flex my biceps and pecs and the two locomotives come flying off the tracks and land on the barge with all its observers. They are so covered with my spew, they never see the heaps of metal coming. I won't be dragging that damned thing back to the castle tonight. I won’t have to topple any puny temples tomorrow. I could. If I wanted to. Each of my wrists are still wearing the shackles and at least one of the massive links of chain that had temporarily bound me to the instruments of my torture and ultimate source of pleasure. There is nothing more for me to accomplish here. I head off into the desert. I need to find a mountain to beat up. The End
  4. Travis quickly stripped naked, exposing his godlike body to the chill Alaskan air. Even relaxed and cold, his muscles were enormous, and they seemed to dance as he bent over and arranged his clothes, neatly folding them into a pile on the tundra rocks. 20 yards back Tina was filming her boyfriend and she couldn't help but get wet at the sight of his glorious nude body, 265 lbs of impossibly strong muscular beef. Her eyes danced over the orgy of ripped muscles that lay before her. His shoulders were her favourite she decided, they bulged huge, easily as large as pair of football helmets. She always had to stretch her arms wide to grope and fondle both of them at the same time. From the front she was a big fan of his massive pecs and thickly muscled abdomen, which were both without equal even in the world of super-heavyweight bodybuilders. Of course her eyes always crept back to his naked sexy ass, round and tight with all its incredible thrusting power. This was the fifth time in as many years that Travis had come to Alaska. Four times he had tried to defeat one of the massive grizzly bears during their mating season fights. Each time he had been forced to withdraw, unable to match the sheer size and strength and of these 700lb creatures. The mighty bodybuilder was feeling good about his chances this year though. He finally broke through the one-tonne squat plateau at the start of the year, and had benched 1300lbs a short time later. Knowing that a naked wrestling match with a grizzly would require superhuman endurance and pain tolerance, he had increased the ferocity of his workouts to unbelievable levels. For months he suffered through 20-rep squats with over a thousand pounds slung across his vast shoulders. He even bought a cruel whip for Tina, and she would mercilessly pound his body with it until his skin was covered in red marks. She had never beaten him though, his determined mind always fighting through the pain until his girlfriend would lie collapsed on the floor in exhaustion, defeated by her bodybuilding boyfriend that she had taken to calling "Superman." Travis walked up to a mighty grizzly, large even for its species, and tipping the scales at over 800 lbs. The huge bear had easily defeated a young male the day before and was eager to breed, its gigantic body coursing with animal testosterone. It reared on its hind legs as Travis approached. Even with his supersized bodybuilder muscles, he looked like small, easy prey for this ultimate apex predator. Travis made himself look big, making his challenging intentions clear. The bear roared and fell on top of Travis. Tina gasped as this happened but her boyfriend's nude body didn't yield to the immense weight, his ass tightened into an iron ball and his forearms stood out like steel cables as he absorbed having all that animal muscle fall onto him. Holding the bear for a second, he used his massive pecs to shove the bear backwards, the huge animal toppling over in a giant crash. Travis admired what he had done for a second and he made his pillow like pecs dance in triumph. He had trained his body to such an extent that he could bench press this huge bear if he wanted to and this fact turned him on immensely. Uninjured but angry, the bear got up and charged. Any other human would have fled in terror but Travis held his ground, crouching forward with all his spectacular muscles flexing hard. The collision of these two goliaths, one of them triple the size of the other, was monumental. Travis' heavy body was actually pushed back several feet, his bare toes sliding over the rough hard ground. Powerful paws tore into his skin, leaving red marks but unable to pierce his iron-hard muscles. Claws that would have sliced a normal human to ribbons were simply an annoyance to Travis' amazing body. The bear's crushing jaws were another matter, they could eviscerate his face or throat if he wasn't careful. Holding the 800 pound bear back with one hand, he used the other to force those massive jaws upwards and away from him. The two mighty animals were locked in a test of strength now. Bare naked human muscle somehow, impossibly, was a match for something that was could have easily slain a dozen normal men. For several minutes the two creatures wrestled, holding each other tightly. Travis could tell that he was much stronger than even this huge bear, although its sheer weight and towering height kept things even, not to mention having to use one arm to keep those jaws away from him. This realization made him very excited, it was one of his strength fantasies coming true! Thousands of hours in the gym had forged himself into a real life Hercules. He could feel the bear's struggles growing weaker now as his muscular endurance also proved superior than this ferocious wild animal. Redoubling his efforts, he used his massively pumped legs to force the bear backwards, much to Tina's delight. Her boyfriend was going to win! She couldn't see it, but Travis was enjoying himself even more so. As the feeling of male power washed over him, his monster sized cock surged upwards. An erection stronger than he had ever enjoyed brushed animal fur before finally reaching just above the dense plates of his thick eight pack. Strength-lust overcame Travis' mind and he wanted nothing more than to shoot a huge load off. He reversed his efforts and pulled the massive bear forward onto him, letting them both fall backwards onto the hard earth! There was an immense thud as 800lbs of wild animal slammed Travis' broad back into the ground. The weight was nothing to his splendid muscles and he loved the feeling of all that mass pressing him into the earth. Wrapping his redwood thighs around the massive bear, he used this once powerful creature as simulation, thrusting himself against its furry belly again and again. His huge naked thighs pressed into the grizzly, causing it pain as Travis realized that he could literally crush this huge animal to death if he wanted, its enormous body no match for his powerhouse thighs that, even on a bad day, could easily crack coconuts. Now they were so pumped, so swollen with muscle that even a bowling ball wouldn't stand a chance against them. Holding the bear's jaws shut with both hands now, the pumped up bodybuilder thrust his cock with wild abandon until he came harder that he had ever before in his life. Vast quantities of superhuman sperm shot out of his fist sized balls as Travis nearly blacked out from the pleasure.The sexy man closed his eyes and moaned loudly as his huge cock just kept cumming and cumming. Both muscular bronzed skin and dark brown fur were getting extremely sticky now from the enormous load that spewed out in endless thick gouts. Tina was close by now, filming her boyfriend having a better orgasm with a male bear that he had ever had with her. Finally his moaning stopped as he orgasm wound down. His erection was still steel hard and monstrous and Travis wanted nothing more than experience that feeling again. The naked man manhandled the exhausted grizzly until he had it in a rear choke. "Sweet dreams pal" Tina thought as the bear slipped into unconsciousness, defeated by the tremendous strength of a powerful male bodybuilder. Travis' dirty, sticky body looked awesome as he stood up, his pumped up physique bulging in all directions with impossible muscles. He placed a bare foot on the defeated grizzly and posed his naked body for the camera, flexing all the massive hard muscles and proudly showing off his colossal manhood. The realization that he was now strong enough to defeat a huge grizzly bear hit him again and his glorious cock once again became as hard as steel. Tina centered the camera on his dick as Travis jerked himself off yet again. His normally massive 11 incher HAD to be past 12 now she thought, and swollen to soda-can levels of girth. His veins on it were raised and looked positively angry as his gargantuan dick spurted forth again. While Tina was soaking her panties, Travis proceeded to soak the bear. Unbelievable quantities of jizz sprayed all over the unconscious beast until it almost seemed like it was more white than brown. Finally the hyper-muscular man's moans and groans subsided as his orgasm finished up. Turning towards his flustered girlfriend, he easily picked her up with one hand and gave her a deep French kiss. "I think its time for the alpha male to impregnate its female" Tina whispered. Travis grinned and started effortlessly shredding her clothing.
  5. musclegin30

    Corona Tales: An Anthology

    Like many of you, I'm social distancing, and had a little time to write. This Coronavirus pandemic inspired me to write a series of short stories, each with muscle-obsessed characters having a little fun (or maybe not, in the case of one), while the pandemic rages in the larger world around them. There are 5 stories that all take place in the same un-named New York neighborhood. Growth: Scott and James are two friends, bored out of their minds while in isolation. When they decide to workout to pass the time, James reveals a new supplement that promises miraculous results. Sex: Seamus is Gay and obsessed with his huge alpha-male friend, Jamie. The only problem: Jamie is straight. But luckily for Seamus, Jamie's girlfriend, Carmen, has a surprise request for both of them. Theft: Nick is young, buff, and hot. His life couldn't get any better. But it could get worst. Does the sexy MILF, Grace, want to fuck him or does she want something else. Strength: Nathan is a skinny, lazy teen, stuck at home with his annoying kid sister. Suddenly, life get's interesting when he sees the size of his neighbor's two friends, and the things they can do. Domination: Little Wayne is a slave to his demanding 330-lb boyfriend, Connor, whom he calls master. Master wants to have some fun! Read all the stories or only the one that piques your interest the choice is yours. These are: "Corona Tales" Growth “What the fuck are we gonna do, Scott?” James said. “Nothing’s open except the grocery store and they’re pretty much empty.” “We have Netflix,” I said. James let out a grunt of disapproval. “This is a boredom not even Netflix can solve. I can’t believe we have 2 weeks of this shit. No movie theaters. No clubs. No parades, concerts, restaurants!” He grabbed his hair and pulled dramatically, letting his head fall back onto the couch cushion. I shook my head and smiled sympathetically. The governor had shut down the state due to a viral pandemic that was sweeping the globe. With 20,000 reported cases and 1500 deaths in New York alone it was too little too late, but oh well. Honestly, I didn’t mind being shut in. I was a homebody anyway. My roommate, James, however had to be out doing something. He liked to be around people. I just liked being around him. To put it plainly: James was hot, a total package. While my looks were average, he was an 11 out of 10. It was really no wonder that he enjoyed being around people. Wherever he went he was the center of attention, like a great celestial body pulling everything around him into his gravitational field. James had dark hair, ‘styled’ messy and olive skin that belied his Mediterranean roots. His jaw was square and peppered with a five-o clock shadow and his eyes were honey brown. And don’t get me started on his body, a sight I was blessed to see on several occasions. He liked to work out. and it showed in how he filled out a shirt, bulging in all the right places. I worked out as well so I looked fit, but James had the genetics of a top-level physique competitor. He’d rival any pro if only he were bigger. Now that was a thought. If only he were bigger. My eyes wondered over his body as he sat their staring blankly at the TV. If only he were bigger… Let me stop and tell you I’m not gay. You may think I am, with the way I’m obsessing over James right now, but trust me I’m bisexual. I actually lean towards woman more often than not, but James could make even a straight man question himself. “Hello. Earth to Scott. What are you staring at?” James asked. I blinked. I was imagining you growing, every muscle on you swelling with size and power until your clothes couldn’t take it anymore and they burst at the seams. Your swelling form set free from the prison of those confining threads to expand ever outward with lean, hard, striated, veiny muscle. Your body growing so large it would never ever again be contained by clothes, not only because no clothes would fit you, but because it would be a disservice to mankind to cover you god-like magnificence with clothing ever again. “Nothing dude. I just spaced out for a minute,” I said. Then I had an idea. The apartment had a gym in the basement. It was pretty well stocked, for an apartment gym, and always empty. Maybe I could get him to develop a pump and that would satisfy my desire to see him grow. My cock grew stiff at the thought. “I know what we can do.” I said, smiling. “Let’s go down to the gym and do a full body workout.” James stared at me, tilting his beautiful head, obviously considering it deeply. He shrugged his shoulders and said “Fuck it. It’s better than sitting around doing nothing.” “Great!” “There’s a new supplement I just got that I’ve been meaning to try anyway,” James said. “New supplement?” I raised my eyebrows. “Yeah,” He pushed himself up and darted into his room. He returned with a small grey container in hand, and passed it to me. “Superpump,” I read aloud. The rest of it was in a foreign language. “What language is this.” “Not really sure. Maybe Russian or some other language in that family. I think it’s Russian, though, because it was that huge ass Russian guy at our gym that told me about it one day. You know who I’m talking about?” I nodded, my eyes still fixed on the container. There was a picture of a grotesquely sexy muscle man on the label, who had to be photoshopped because h looked bigger than Greg Golias. “The dude said this stuff works like magic. One scoop in a shake before working out and you’ll be amazed. Those were his exact words. You’ll be amazed. I whipped my phone out and ordered right on the spot.” “Cool.” I nodded. “Let’s see if it works.” The Russian guy James was talking about was the largest man I had ever seen outside of the Olympia. His arms had to be over 25 inches. And the dude seemed to grow consistently all year without ever putting on fat. We changed into out workout clothes: tanks, sweatpants, and sneakers. James mixed up a protein shake and added one heaping scoop of the Superpump. He poured a little into a glass for me, but he drank the lion’s share of it straight from the blender. The stuff didn’t taste bad. “Ready to get pumped!” I exclaimed, psyching him up. “Fuck yeah!” He slapped his hands down on my shoulders. “Let’s go!” We grabbed a couple of water bottles and James did a most muscular pose before we headed out the door. The second he turned around I adjusted my swelling cock. This was going to be an awkward workout. It’s so difficult to hide a hardon in sweats. We found the gym empty, as expected. After a quick stretch and a warmup with light weights, we got straight to work. James grabbed two 60 lb. dumb-bells, sat on a weight bench and began pumping out rep after rep of shoulder presses. I was doing standing curls with 40 lbs. in each hand, while stealing glances at James. The cords of muscle in his arms rippled beneath the skin, contracting with each rep. His arms were a thing of beauty. Each muscle group was clearly defined, from the upside-down teardrops that formed his delts, to the croissant-like triceps. He let out guttural grunts on his final reps as he strained to finish his set. I always loved how hard he pushed himself when working out. “Yah!” He called out in pain and satisfaction as his arms fell to his sides and he dropped the weights to the mat. He leaned forward, shoulders pumped and glistening with sebum and sweat. I put my dumb-bells back on the rack, and felt the telltale tightness of a pump in my own arms. “Feels good doesn’t it?” James asked, between breaths. “What?” “Getting a pump.” “Yeah, man. It does.” I flexed my biceps, knowing that he would do the same. James bought his arms up into a double bicep pose, forming two perfect peaks wrapped in a near symmetrical network of blue veins. He was so symmetrical it was like an artist had painted half of him and while the paint was still wet, folded the paper in two, to form the other half. “I don’t know why you don’t compete,” I said. “I’m not big enough for that.” I impulsively reached out and squeezed his bicep. A quick, playful squeeze between bros. Just long enough to feel it hardness in my hand. “You’re big enough for a local show,” I said. Though I agree, you should be bigger. “I’ll think about it.” He grinned. “Who knows, if this Superpump works as good as the Russian says I might just do it.” We continued our workout, moving from exercise to exercising with no real order, just having fun and passing time. Throughout the workout James’ pump went from the normal to the insane. Every muscle was swollen. I had developed a pump as well, but nothing like what I was witnessing on James. I was doing lateral raises while James was laying on the bench doing dumb-bell presses with 100 lbs. in each hand. As I watched the mounds of meat that were his pecs contract It seemed the cleavage between them was growing deeper with each rep. The slabs of muscle widened as well, right before my eyes, pushing his nipples out from behind the straps of his tank. Impossible. This was no ordinary pump. Looking down at my own body, I could see changes as well. I looked a little bigger here and there, but James was flat out inflating. He seemed oblivious to it. It had to be the Superpump. James had taken more of it than I did, so he was getting a greater effect. Combine that with his superior muscle building genetics and… James let the weight fall and sat up on the bench. “God! This fucking pump is unbelievable! And I feel like I could lift all night!” My cock sprung to attention. It was the fasted boner I had ever had, going from flaccid to turgid in the time it took James to utter his sentence. I quickly adjusted it, hoping he hadn’t seen the pitched tent in my sweats. “You know, I’m not sure that’s a normal pump.” “What do you mean?” James looked at me expectantly. “I think that Superpump is making you physically grow.” “Get the fuck outta here.” He laughed. “You can’t physically grow more mass by a noticeable amount in less than an hour. There’s laws of physics and shit.” “Didn’t the Russian say it worked like magic?” “Figure of speech,” James said, dismissively. “How much did you weigh this morning?” “190.” He said. “There’s a scale over there. Weigh yourself.” He stared blankly at me, then shook his head. “Ok, just to prove you wrong.” He rose, and I could see his cobra back was pushing his arms away from his side. He stepped on the scale and his eyes nearly popped out of his skull. “210!” “210!” I repeated. “A full 20 pounds more.” “No way!” He hopped off the scale and began looking himself over in the mirror, flexing, poking, and rubbing. Then he peeled off his sweat soaked tank, revealing the divine sight of his brick-like abs. “Fuuck!” I said aloud. My hardon was painful, stretched to its limits, rising above my waistband onto my stomach. “Fuck is right, dude. The Russian said that stuff was like magic and he wasn’t lying. This is incredible.” James was clearly infatuated with his own body. He nipples had swollen, looking like hard little pacifiers, pushed downward by the bulk of his pecs. A bulge was growing in his sweats, snaking down his left thigh, thick as a toilet paper tube. God! Everything about him was perfect! Then a though struck me. “James, It’s obviously the working out that’s activating the Superpump. So how about we keep going and see just how big you can get?” “I like the way you think, man.” And so, James continued lifting, more and more reps with more and more weights, until he had maxed out every machine and lifted the heaviest dumb-bells. Several times I caught myself absentmindedly stroking my raging hardon through my sweats, but James was so focused on his own growth that he never seemed to notice. After an hour of intense pumping James’ body was nearly unrecognizable. Just mounds upon mounds of striated veiny muscle fighting for space on his frame. His legs had grown so large his sweats now looked like legging stretched tight across his shelf-like glutes and quads like loafs of bread pressed together. The growth had stopped and I suggested he weigh himself. He was all too eager. He swaggered over to the scale and stepped on it. 260 lbs. of solid beef. I nearly fainted. James began flexing, smiling widely as I looked him over. The finest specimen of a man I had ever laid eyes upon. “Well come on dude and have a feel,” James said. “And not like you grabbed my bicep before. Really feel me up. I know you want to.” “Whaa?” I temporarily lost the ability to speak. “I’ve got two working eyes you know. You’ve been eyeing my muscles, practically salivating, for the longest time, even before we got down here. And that hardon! Dude, you know if they last this long your supposed to call a doctor.” He laughed. I blushed. “Are you asking me to worship your muscles?” “It’s what you want isn’t it?” Jason grabbed his sweats and with one quick yank pulled them off revealing his stunning legs. He tossed the torn fabric aside. “It’s alright.” I placed a hand on each pec. He bounced them. The vibration of those thick slabs of meat was enough to send waves of pleasure through me. The size. The power. It was all so much and it was all in my grasp. My fantasy had come to life by way of some magic. As the world outside descended into chaos my world in here was perfect. My hands wandered to the mounds of his shoulders and squeezed the hard muscle. “I’m so fucking horny,” James said. “Suck my nipples.” I did, taking his tender nipples into my mouth, tasting his salty skin, caressing his pecs with my tongue. He moaned in pleasure. His strong arms enveloped me. “We’ve got two weeks of quarantine,” James said. “Just you and me and the rest of that container of Superpump. I think I finally know what we’re gonna be doing.”
  6. Part 1 She told me to follow her. The basement door opened and we went in a room, full of diverse gym-equipment, weights, dumbbells, training devices and bars. Rays of light were sneaking through the small windows, which were now closed. The air stood still and it was very hot inside. Carol looked at me and asked. “Today I want to test my strength and push my muscles to the limit, would you help me?” Her voice sounded full of concentration and she seemed to be very serious. Looking around I nodded my head. All the training tools and weights of various size impressed me. There was plenty of free weights, plates, belts and weighted chains in the room. “During this workout I will show you how I developed my muscles and became as strong as I am,” she continued. Hmm, muscles? What kind of muscles? I looked back at Carol, she was wearing an oversized puffy jacket and some loose pants. Her figure seemed to me quite wide and I supposed she was a bit overweight and fatty. That would make sense with the weight-losing workout. “Obviously, working out is about physical strength, but not just that, mental strength is also essential, the strength of my mind is of even greater importance than the pure strength of my body” she said, attentively looking at me as if she was examining me in somethings. Then came a bit an astonishing question. “Do you mind if I take my upper clothes and my pants off? I prefer to workout by high temperatures and want to get a full performance from my body as well” Still being a little bit shocked I nodded again and murmured, “Sure, go ahead”. Carol unzipped her jacket and threw it aside. My jaw instantly dropped down. I couldn’t see even a piece of fat on her upper body, instead of that it was covered in layers and layers of shredded and well developed muscles, kind of muscles I’ve only seen on some professional bodybuilders. Even relaxed her biceps were huge, not less than 17 inches around. Her triceps bulging dramatically to the sides, her deltoid muscles almost the size of softballs. Amazed I looked at her breasts, they were not like normal breasts at all. Two big pec plates, covered in veins were protruding out of her pumped upper body. The gap between them had to be at least 2 inches deep. They were partially covered by a pink sport bra, and I could say, the material was already well stretched, trying to embrace her man-shaming pecs. Her nipples, somehow half of an inch in lengths, were easy to recognize, they were placed a bit to the side of each massive pectoral plate and were looking rather down, dragging with them the material and revealing more of her pectoral meat. But her abdominal muscles made my eyes widen. Never have I ever seen such chiselled blocks of abs. She had a remarkable 8-pack, each of the cubes standing separately, the lines between them had to be not less than an inch deep. It seemed, I could insert a finger to the middle in those canyons of her insanely developed muscle cubes. They were as well covered in veins even at rest. Carol turned around and I had no chance to focus on her impressive muscular back, because she took her pants in one quick motion off. Her shredded meaty glutes, divided only by a thin line of her black thongs came in sight. They were trained to such condition, that I could clearly see outlines of each muscle group and all the striations of her butt. The muscularity of her thighs was so hardcore they were hanging inches over her knees and were visible even when she stood with her back to me. Each of her calves was the size of my thigh at its widest. I marveled her muscular legs in motion as Carol wandered to a set of dumbbells. Nonchalant she ran her fingers over some of them, she passed 40’s, 50’s and 60’s before settling on a pair of 80-pound dumbbells. She moved with them to the center of the room and said facing me “Let’s do some warm-up”. I couldn’t believe my ears, warm-up with 80 pounds in each arm? The muscular girl in front of me began to perform perfect bicep curls. Rep after rep she lifted the weight alternatively with each arm. After a set of 20 reps her biceps grew bigger and veins began to ran over them. She was breathing rhythmically and after 5 seconds started her second set. I was admiring her physic; her body was beyond perfection, beyond any possible muscularity I could imagine on a young girl. She didn’t seem to be older than 20 years old. How could she have such a shredded body? By another look on her abs I noticed, she didn’t actually have an 8-pack. Her high placed thongs covered the last visible set of bricks and to my amazement, there were some more bulges under them. Is it somehow even possible to have a 10-pack of abs at all? Meanwhile this muscle angel was doing reps without even braking a sweat. When Carol completed the 20th rep of her third set she kept the massive dumbbells at her shoulders and requested, “Take the timer… and come closer” I took one from the table and stood 4 meters in front of her, admiring her physic. “Could you set the timer in stopwatch mode?" she asked. I managed to do it. Carol raised her arms to the sides parallel to the floor with the 80-pound dumbbell in each hand and held the weight horizontal. Muscles in her arms tensed to take the strain. Her biceps stretched and her triceps bulged with veins. “Start the clock” she called. I tore my eyes shortly away to do click the button, then gazed at her beautiful form again. Carol was pretty enough, but to have an attractive face and this fantastic super body was too much for me to comprehend. Seconds ticked away, she was holding this big dumbbells with her arms stretched for almost a minute now. A light tremor began to form in her shoulders. At two minutes her legs began to move gradually aside as well. Oh my God, Carol was slowly bringing her body to a split position still holding the weights. At the 3 minutes mark she was in a perfect 180 degree split. I was in awe of her flexibility. However the trembling in her arms became more prominent. She was saying something between controlled breaths. “Bring those two weighted chains…” I ran to the hooks were they hang and grabbed one at first. “Uff, how heavy are they?” It was difficult to move them both at once so I carried them one by one. “40 pounds each” she said through slightly gritted teeth. “Now… hang them to the dumbbells” We were approaching 4 minute mark as I did so and stepped back. Her flexed biceps and shoulders had to take the extra weight and they were noticeably looking more strained than before. Carol was doing her best to appear composed but she had now been in this tortuous position for over 4 minutes and had received an extra load. What she did next impressed me. Carol tensed her shredded legs, buttocks and abs muscles and brought her to a standing position by the sheer power of them, simply by sliding and bringing her legs together. Couple of breaths and she lowered herself to a perfect split position again. I looked at her abs and saw they had sprung into even more definition and I thought I could see them quivering slightly with the strain. More thicker veins appeared on them as well as on her biceps and triceps. How could she hold these much? I struggled to lift 40 pounds and she was holding 120 pounds with each straight arm now. “Get ready with the next 40-pound chains at… 5 minutes…” she gasped. She didn't look like she could last until the 5 minute mark. This was crazy, she was not only trying to endure this position for as long as she could but she was making it increasingly difficult! I felt a surge of admiration and excitement as the 5 minute mark arrived and I increased the load to 160 pounds on each of her outstretched arms. Carol groaned as her arms dropped and she took an agonizing three seconds to pull them back up. Her shaking was now much worse and I thought she might give up at any moment, but her arms, huge biceps and triceps vibrating, somehow maintained the position. By this time her body was shined with perspiration. Her face was reddening again and her teeth were clamped in a grimace of pure determination. She looked in my eyes and agonizingly slowly, by pulling her legs together brought her body to a standing position once more. Her massive arms were covered in sweat now and shaking badly. Part 2 At the 6 minutes mark Carol grunted and performed a double biceps pose, holding 160 pound in each hand. Her arms were massive, probably the biggest I’ve ever seen in my life. Veins were running over the peaks and I watched in awe as her biceps reached incredible 22 inches, now fully flexed. I was looking at this muscle girl and couldn’t believe my luck to see her working out, to see how hard she was burning. “Impossible…” was the only word I managed to whisper. Holding this pose for 10 seconds Carol let the dumbbells and weighted chains fall to the concrete floor and instantly got herself into a push-up position. Still breathing rapidly she did 50 push-ups in less than 40 seconds and paused. Her head came up and she requested: “Bring two of those 25-kilos plates and put them on my back” In a state of shock I carried one by one the heavy plates and laid them on her muscular back. God, they were not light at all, however, the extra weight made no difference to her stable horizontal form. Carol breathed in and out and continued her push-ups, now with 50 kilos of additional resistance. I admired her broad back, her muscled glutes, each part of her body was so extremely developed and full of glistering muscles. Meanwhile she was cracking rep after rep, 60, 70, 80 repetitions. At 90 she slowed down a bit, but her push-ups maintained a perfect form. I tried to think of how many of them could I do, maybe 30 or 40, but this muscle girl was doing 3 times this much, having an extra load on her back. At 100 she held her arms straight, her head came up again and she murmured between rapid breath “Put… two more plates… make it 100 kilos” Shaking my head I said uncertainly “Sure? Wouldn’t it be too much?” Her eyes flashed “Please, put more weight… I want to show you.. what my body is capable of…” Astonished I rested another two plates, 25 kilos each, carefully on the ones she already had on her back and stood right in front of her. Impressively, it didn’t affect her position. Carol proceeded to do push-ups, looking straight at me. My mouth was open, how is it to perform so many of them with such an extra weight? Her arms, pumped from the previous dumbbell-workout, were lowering and bringing her body up rhythmically like pistons. I looked at her pecs, they were getting red and standing further out of her body mass, the gap between them increased to 3 inches deep, all the muscle striations on them were prominent. She was getting slower now, at 130 Carol grinned her teeth and began to grunt each time she straightened her arms. At 140 sweat started to drop from her forehead to the floor. The rep 149 was very measured, her face full of determination. As I counted 150 Carol paused again, her massive arms trembling. Now she was in this push-up position for almost 5 minutes, not only holding it, but doing push-ups with such a heavy weight on her back. Hell, she was strong. I could see from my side, that her abs cubes became even more prominent and were bulging, each of her upper cubes probably the size of my fist now. Huge pecs taking more and more space beneath her, each time Carol was in the lowest point of her push-up they scratched the floor leaving marks of her sweat. Her sport-bra, struggling to hold all the growing and billowing pectoral mass, stretched even more. With her eyes on me she was saying something between grunts. I came closer to be ready to take the weights off, because they were quite heavy for me to do it in a quick motion. Her words hit me like a punch “Add more weight…” Being hypnotized I questioned “How?..” Somehow I was certain she was about to finish at the mark of 150 extremely weighted push-ups. “Put… arghhh…4 more plates and make it… 200 kilos…nghhhh…” How could she demand more? Her figure was trembling in shakes. Almost unconsciously ran I to the weight stack. I had to do it four times as the plates were too heavy for me to carry at least two of them at once. At the moment I stabilized all the plates on her broad back, her incredible musculature transfixed me again, her insane V-shape, her shredded lower back muscles connecting to the over pumped glutes, which got bigger now. I could hardly recognize the thin lines of her black thongs, as they were completely engulfed by the massive meat of her buttocks, covered in veins. Biting her lower lip and starring at the floor, wet of her own sweat, Carol somehow managed to take control over her shuddering and, to amazement, continued to perform steady push-ups of perfect form, now with 200 kilos of an extra weight! I have never thought this is human possible. The feat of strengths she was doing right in front of me simply couldn’t be accepted by my mind. I stood there and watched, and kept counting in whispers: 158… 165… 172… At the rep number 180 her shuddering worsened and it took her 10 seconds to go down and up with an immense weight on her back this time. She was now crying, tears mixing with the sweat, her body racked by sobs as well as the spasms of her amazing muscles. I thought she was going to stop and fall at every rep, but she kept going, growling after each of the successful stretching of her hugely pumped arms. Performing the 187’s rep Carol threw her head to the sides couple of times, as if protesting to give up. “Grrr…c’mon girl…” she grunted loud. A spray of sweat scattered from her hair, and, with a terrible shudder, she gradually completed the push-up and then two more in the same manner. I noticed that her nipples were now not less than 2 inches long, bulging from the sport-bra, which was so tight that its edges were not able to cover much of her impossibly huge pectoral mass, even when she breathed out. God, I have never seen such a big nipples on a person, the material of her bra was totally wet and stretched to its limits. During the 190’s rep I expected her to collapse at any second. It took Carol more than 15 seconds to finish it in agony. She was clearly in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks, her pecs, covered in veins as thick as my fingers, were fighting for space pushing her arms further apart. Her head came up again, such a pretty young face full of effort and determination; she was trying to say something through the sobs. I honestly thought and hoped she was going to ask me to take the plates off, but she whispered: “Get… on…uughhhh… get on my… back…” Part 3 … I honestly thought and hoped she was going to ask me to take the plates off, but she whispered: “Get… on…uughhhh… get on my… back…” I was simply astonished. “What?!... How…” I exclaimed. I wasn’t able to put it all together in my head. Her massive arms trembling, holding her body in this position for almost 10 minutes now, with incredibly heavy extra weight on her back, performing push-ups. Yet she wanted more, she wanted to make it even harder, to overcome the highest peaks of exhaustion and to continue doing push-ups, increasing the weight and making it even more difficult. Carol’s face showed pain and determination. I stood still and could not make a move, shocked by the whole scenery in front of me. The muscled angel repeated between sobs “Do it for me… get on… step on my… glutes…” Her voice quivering, but also full of confidence. Being in a dreamy state, I obeyed and carefully transferred my bodyweight onto her ripped mass placing my feet on the most muscular ass I ever seen. “Ngghhhaaaaaghh…” she exhaled from deep inside and, to my amazement, managed to keep her shredded figure straight and steady. I felt her rock-hard glutes with my feet, there was no chance to dent or affect them with my 80 kilos body weight at all. They were also covered in her sweat, which was streaming from almost all the edges of her pumped body. “Hold on…” she gasped and after couple of quick breath we began to descent. I leaned forward and put my hands on the plates in order to stabilize myself. There was a big mirror in front of us on the wall. I imagined how Carol, being alone in the basement after her cruel workout, flexes and admires her muscles, her insane physic. Now the mirror was reflecting a huge muscle monster touching the floor with a pair of oversized pecs, hell this girl is unreal. “Aaaghhhyessss…” she cried at the bottom and then we went up agonizingly slow, at the half way up Carol suddenly paused, caught my look and, oh god, she opened her mouth and licked her lower lip in an exceptionally sexy way. Parallel I felt a push. Carol flexed her colossal buttocks more and I got higher another inch. She lifted me higher by the sheer power of flexing her inhuman glutes, held me there and completed the 191st weighted push-up with a gut-wrenching groan. Layers of muscle stitches of her ripped glutes supported me. In awe, I witnessed Clara performing another four push-ups in a slow, determined way, crying in efforts and grunting hard. Yet the sounds she made were extremely feminine and sexy. Carol did the next two push-ups huffing, roaring like an animal and went abruptly down for the 198th. It took her unbelievable arms and pecs muscles more than a minute to perform this one and lift us up again. I marvelled every muscle group of her extreme physic. Her gigantic arms were probably thicker than my waist! Cords of muscles in her back formed deep canyons, full of sweat. Her glutes were now two big beefy plates, pulsating with veins, her behemoth thighs casting huge shadows on the concrete floor. Meanwhile she was concentrating on something. Carol bitted her lip, her eyes rolled up, uncovering more of her eye-whites “Ngghhhaaarrr…” I rose higher another half an inch. Oh god, she flexed her butt muscles more! Impossible, every muscle I could see bulged and sprang into sharper definition. Her whole body shaking wild, she managed to hold this position for 5 seconds and then her arms gave up and we collapsed to the floor, landing on her pecs and thighs. She had no more strength left, sobbing and huffing like an animal Carol was murmuring something “Mgha… Nghash… gee… step… step off… please…” I hurried and did so. Finally, she reached her limit and, probably the limit of any human being in a weighted push-ups marathon. I had a strange new feeling, even witnessing this incredible workout, I was somehow disappointed she did not make it to 200. Carefully grabbing the highest 25-kilo plate, I began to take it off in order to dismount all of them one after another. But Carol yield at me loud “No!...” I stepped aside in shock. “Don’t… please… I’m not done… yet…my pecs need… to burn… more… I want to show you… how hardcore they really are… nghhh” Impressively, her voice was soft like silk now and it seemed she dedicated all her efforts to me at that moment. Laying on her pecs and thighs Carol put her exhausted arms along her body and gripped her still pulsating glutes in each of her hands, her fingers naively trying to dent the muscles harder than stones. I sat directly in front of her when she said, “Watch this… mmmmm…” I will never forget what happened next. Carol began to flex her massive pecs. Hard, and then harder. They erupted with crazy amount of definition and, incredibly, they began to push her body and the eight 25-kilo plates on her back skyward again, whilst her whole frame shook violently. Screaming shrilly, her man-shaming pectoral muscles were working as jack-lift when you need to change a wheel in your car. Totally exhausted, she called on reserves which I thought a human being couldn’t possible have and it occurred to me, Carol was doing her 200th rep not with her arms but with her pecs! Which were now outgrowing any known limits of size, becoming illegally huge, so big I could not recall anything close to their size on man or woman. So huge, that only some cartoonists were brave enough to draw something similar in their fantasies. The only thing was: these ripped pectorals belonged to the most muscular girl I’ve ever seen and she was here, for real in this gym-basement in front of me. By flexing them, Carol lifted herself 2 and a half inches higher and was still going for more. “ARRRRRGH…” Her eyes were on fire; her sport-bra was not able to contain such a mass anymore. I heard a cracking sound and the material broke in pieces. Oh god, she has just flexed out of her clothes! Her thighs left the floor as Carol kept pushing herself higher. The immense muscle orbs of her pecs were nearing the size of basketballs each. Gardens of veins running over them, waterfalls of sweat falling down from their edges. These two mammoth pistons were stretching her skin more and I doubted whether they could belong to a human being, yet to such a beautiful young girl. How could she do this to herself? How many hours did she spend working on her enormous chest to make it reach such a condition? When her pecs gained 7 inches in height Carol hold the flex. I grabbed the timer and by pushing a button began to measure this madness. 15… 25… seconds, her nipple-placement was very extreme now, they were hanging in the air under the first two abs cubes parallel to the floor, guided a bit to the sides. They were not less than 3 inches long and as thick as my thumbs! At 50 seconds her face was getting redder, veins from all directions were going to her chest in order to pump more blood to them. Her eyes rolled back on me. “Bring… the barbell… from the bench-press… ugghhh…hurry up…” What does she have in her crazy mind? I rushed to the far corner of the basement and in couple of seconds stood back with the 20-kilo empty metal stick. Still holding her chest fully flexed, Carol looked down at her pectoral meat and roared like an animal couple of times. Incredibly, bit by bit they started to separate and formed a bigger gap among each other. She breathed out “Insert the end… arrgghh… between my… boobies” Damn, she called these muscle pythons “boobies”. Protesting with my head moving slowly from side to side, I obeyed and put the end of the barbell where this shaking muscle queen wanted, directly into the newly formed opening in her enormous chest. Carol clenched her pecs again, secured the bar at the 45-degree angle to the floor and proceeded grunting, “Be ready… to put… every 30 seconds… nghhhaaarr… 25-kilo… on the other end…Mghhaa… Start!” Being not anymore in control of my motions and actions, I gathered the plates nearby and added the first one at the 30 seconds mark. “AAARRGHHH… YESSS…” She shook and screamed through tears, but managed to hold the barbell firm. The strain on her pecs might be enormous by now. Not only was she holding herself on the fully flexed chest muscles with 200 kilos on her back, but was also pushing her inner pectoral cords to grip the metal stable. Carol’s muscle lust was insatiable. Watching her trembling and shaking I increased the weight on the far end of the barbell to 50 kilos at the 1 minute mark. Her head came up and she whispered between sobs “Look at my… pecs… do you… like them…?” I responded, “Hell girl, you are incredible”. With one hand, denting harder into her left glute Carol dug deeper between her ass- muscles with the fingers of her other, found the tinny line of her thongs and ripped them, releasing her pussy fluids. With a loud splosh they landed beneath her. “Mmmm… I will burn myself… to the limit… for you… nghaa…” She was shredded beyond believe, her nipples got almost 4 inches in lengths and, unbelievably, were scratching her fist-sized upper abs-cubes. With my hands trembling, I reached for the next 25-kilo plate… Part 4 With my hands trembling, I reached for the next 25-kilo plate at the 90 seconds mark to add it to the metal bar, which was sticking out from Carol’s huge chest. Her condition was truly insane now. She was roaring hard between breaths. I was so impressed by the sight of her ripped pecs, they were now casting their own shadows on the floor. Her face full of sweat and tears showed she was going through a hell of arousal and agony, holding this unbelievable flex for over one and half a minute already. Supporting her body and so much extra weight by the sheer power of shredded vascular chest. When the third plate joined the others, the whole torture for the grip strength of her extremely flexed and veiny pecs reached 95 kilograms, including the weight of the bar. At that moment, her feet began to leave the floor and the weighted end of the bar sank lower to the floor. With 200 kilograms centred on her back, she had simply too much weight on the front now. Carol’s exhausted mind had somehow realized the misbalance, her biceps bulged more and she pressed harder on her glutes, literally pressing her lower body to the floor, in order to maintain the stability of her position. Her triceps muscles sprang and showed more definition. “Mghhhaaa…” her red face expressed a rigid determination. I looked at the sheer width of her back, it was so shocking that the eight plates seemed to me tiny, comparing to her over-developed back. Her ultra-shredded pecs stood in a lake of her sweat, veins as thick as my fingers ran over them, pulsating wildly. With my jaw dropped, I marvelled these huge slabs of rippling meat. Then my look went to the pair of painfully erect 4 inches long nipples, which were now pressing hard on her grapefruit-sized abs cubes. Her serratus and obliquus stood in remarkable definition. All I could see was layers of thick and corded muscles, her angelic face and her eyes wide open in tears of efforts, telling a story of unreal suffering. Carol was shuddering fit to bust, but was trying to say something, in a tiny voice. I leaned closer to hear it, and caught the sweet smell of her body and felt the heat radiating from her over-worked muscles. "Please… no more plates… unghhfff… grrr… I want you to… mhhhfff… hang from the end of the bar…" she was asking in a tremulous voice. What was she thinking? She was in a state I expected her to fall abruptly in any second, and yet she wanted more, more torture for her two pec-blocks of solid muscle. In addition, 80 kilograms more to be held distant by her muscular pecs. I looked again at the notches and veins squirming in the deep groove between her meaty pectorals. “Please… do it… ngha… try to rip… my pecs” she whispered sexily catching her breath in between her huffs and grunts. Fully shocked I obeyed, encircled my hands over the sticking end of the bar and slowly lifted my legs off the floor. “Nggggaaaa!!…. Uhfff… Mhhh…” Deep animal scream came from Carols exhausted lungs. This feat of strengths almost made me faint. Carol took short quick breaths, squeezed her meaty pecs even harder and managed to hold all the weight there! Her shuddering doubled as she forced her body and especially her pectoral flesh to the absolute limit of its capabilities and endurance. She pressed harder on her glutes with her arms to compensate the overweight on the front. Her stamina was incredible. After many minutes of weighted push-ups and ever-increasing efforts of self-torture, her almost inhuman determination demanded more from her incredible muscles. Seconds passed, Carol’s face reddened extremely; more finger-sized veins appeared to travel on her monstrous chest. She focused her eyes on me and shook violently like an earthquake couple of times. I looked down and saw additional streams of her juices on the floor, right under her ripped midsection and bulging thighs. Oh, god, she was orgasming! Tears of exhaustion, pleasure and pain were running down her young cheeks. Slowly but surely, the bar and me began to descent to the horizontal position. Her teeth clenched, her jaw jutting out, her eyes wide and looking in mine. Carol roared loud and stopped us from going down, but only for a couple of seconds before slowly, very slowly, we began to move down again. She threw everything she had into her shredded but already so exhausted muscles. Her pecs didn't give up all the way, managing to keep the descent at a very measured pace until my feet touched the ground. Then she collapsed abruptly to the floor, fully wet in her sweat and juices. Luckily, Carol managed to stabilize her frame and all the extra weight with her hands on the floor. The hyper-vascular pecs gave all they could, and were still trembling hard. Finally, they released the metal bar. Even unflexed they were the biggest blocks of ripped pectoral meat I’ve ever seen. Her nipples so long and thick that they were probably larger than some male cocks. All her colossal muscles quivered. Seeing her sobbing and crying, I moved the metal bar to the side and started to dismount the 25-kilo plates from her wide and insanely muscular back, one after another. When I finished my arms hurt of these unusual efforts. I couldn’t take my eyes away from Carol’s impossible physic. I watched Carol’s back heave with bulging muscle as she moaned on the floor. Her breathing telling a story of extreme exhaustion, like after running a marathon. Carol’s huge figure was still trembling in chaotic shakes; the waves of her super muscle orgasm were hanging in the air. After only 20 seconds of laying in this position, Carol braced her tired hands and slowly managed to stand straight. Her eyes met mine; she bitted her lower lip and flexed at first her right pec, then her left and then both of them together couple of times. Huge masses of flesh moved gradually up and down. “Look… ughhh… at them…” she breathed out heavily. These were the biggest pec-muscled I have ever seen, so ripped, so shredded. During this controlled and measured flexing her pec-meat rolled and contracted, showing insane definition of each corded muscle stitch. Her 4-inch erected nipples had nothing to do but point straight down towards the floor, because of the painful musculature of her bloated chest. Carol’s waist was quite small, compering to her over muscled upper and lower body. It complemented her dreamy V-shape very well. Her beefy abs in the mid-section were extremely huge. They looked like a stack of big oranges, ripped and striated, and her serratus and obliquus stood in great prominence. My eyes widened, she didn’t have an eight pack, she had two rows of five meaty cubes. Her sweat ran on the underside of her pectoral monsters and then was dropping down to her middle set of abs, continuing to stream further down on her 4th and then on her last 5th pair of abdominal blocks. Even this last pair, which I had no idea how hard are to develop, were standing firm and the separation between them was at least one and a half inch deep. The drops of her sweat were traveling further down and, mixed with her pussy-juices, ran over her colossal legs. Carol didn’t let me to marvel her naked body more in this standing position, still trembling from her insane workout and without giving herself even a slightest break, she moved to another part of the basement where I noticed a pull-up bar with some strange pieces of weights lying on the floor beneath it. When she walked her quads caught my attention, so ripped they were, probably the most muscular thighs I’ve ever seen in my life. Three thick bulges of hard muscles hanged out from her legs, overshadowing her knees. They twitched and flexed with every movement she made. The condition of Carol’s ass was simply unbelievable; all the striations in her glutes made me think of hours and hours of impossible tuff workouts, she went through in order to build such a bottom. Moreover, she reached such a shredded condition before going in her 20s. When Carol reached the far corner of the basement she made a double biceps pose, looked back and asked, breathing out in her voice full of notes of exhaustion after her incredible chest workout, “Are you up for some… pull-ups?” Holly crap, her hands were caressing the veiny bulges of the biceps peaks. I nodded but could not believe, is she going to move to pull-ups without any brake? There was a small steel movable ladder with only three steps under the pull-up bar. Why was it there? Can’t Carol simply jump, as far as the bar hung not that high? “I also want to show you how strong… my abs muscles are… and I will need your help here” I came closer to her and was awkwardly standing there, mesmerized by this muscle queen. Meanwhile she took a big 20-kilo weighted belt and adjusted it on her waist. There was a short but thick metal chain with a big hook attached to its end. She came closer to a set of four 50-kilo plates, which were bounded together, spread her massive legs, applied a half-sit-up position and connected the hook of her weighted belt to this colossal weight. I watched in awe as this shredded muscle girl grunted and managed to straighten her legs, lifting all the weight from the floor. Then, walking in small steps, she reached the steel ladder, the weight swinging between her over-muscled leg-pillars. Step by step she mounted to the highest point of the it, her quads and calves bulging extremely with each of her movement, as she had to constantly transfer all the weight from one leg to another in this weird elevation. Then Carol raised her hands, grabbed the bar and lifted her feet completely from the floor! “Please… move the ladder away” Her face full of determination, her eyes focus, but the most extreme: she was hanging from the bar with 220 kilograms of extra weight! When I dragged the ladder to the side, she raised her feet together, so now her body was in pike position with her legs hanging horizontal. The huge abdominal blocks sprang to life. They had a crazy definition, each cube stand separately, with fat veins running over them. Carol developed her abs muscles so impossibly hard, that the small canyons between them were at least one and a half inch deep. Her thigh muscled bulged more, creating craters of muscle cords! What came next made my jaw drop. Carol looked me in the eye and requested, “Please… count…” Then her biceps and back muscles flexed and she heaved herself upwards, performing a pull-up of a perfect form. She hasn’t stop till her swollen pecs pressed the bar, and only after that she went down in controlled manner. “Ughh… come on…” her look landed back on me and I exhaled “One…” Part 5 I marvelled at Carol’s extreme physic. Her body ripped and shredded to the core, glistering in streams of her sweat. Breathing heavily, she was ready for the second rep of her unimaginably cruel pull-up workout. Muscles radiating with impossible strengths flexed harder when she heaved herself, plus the 220 kilograms of extra weight, attached to her poor waist upwards for the second time. When she was at the apex of the rep, I looked in awe at her screaming biceps and my eyes nearly jumped out of my skull: Carol’s peaks bulged more, showing muscles on top of muscles wriggling with veins underneath practically semi-transparent, tissue-paper thin skin. “Ugnghhhaaa…” she groaned, bushy ropes of vascularity spread across the bulges of her thick, head-separated biceps muscles, amplifying the tops of her magnificent, monstrously developed arms with an inch thick, pulsing veins. I swore I could hear the blood pulsating and running rush in those fat arteries of the most musclular girl I have ever seen, or ever imagined. I whispered “Two…” and focused on her superb stomach muscles, when Carol went up for the third weighted pull-up. Hanging from the bar with her legs in this jack-knife position, her abs-wall created two-inch deep grooves that delineated and separated her horrifyingly cut, blown out abdomen, which looked like 10 swollen ripe oranges, packed under a thin skin of hers. Three… four… five… unbelievable, with her teeth clenched Carol was performing pull-up after pull-up. Six… seven… the rippling meat-cleavage of her colossal pecs was driving me crazy each time the top of her chest slammed the metal pull-up bar, accompanied by an animalistic grunt from Carol’s beautiful face. Her expression was now distorted by pain of these huge efforts. Eight… nine… the rep number ten was slower than the others, again I saw tears in the corners of her eyes, her mouth formed an O-shape and agonizingly slow she finished the 10th rep, instantly dropping to a hanging position with her immense arms fully stretched. Somehow, she managed to hold the grip with her hands, the massive attached weight was trying to bring her down, yet her sculped body of a female Adonis fought all the gravity constants. Carol’s will power was something out of this world; I could not comprehend how was she still able to go on, after working out so hard and in such crazy way, pushing her crying in pain muscles over all the known limits. I came closer and said “Ten! You’re incredible; I cannot believe you are this strong!” Catching her breath, Carol looked down at me, bit her upper lip and said “I’ve… just… ssss… started… mmmmh… Do you… want to see… ngha… how strong my… mmmmh… muscles really are…?” Refusing to accept my luck, I began to shake my head chaotically up and down. “Attach those two chains from the floor… to my ankles…” As if in a dream I obeyed, picked up a 25-kilo chain with a special ring in the middle, which was foreseen to be put over her ankles with a kind of a lock to firmly tighten the ring over her feet. Gawd it was heavy, Carol’s raised legs were at my head level and when I was about to lift the first chain completely from the floor, struggling with its weight, she gasped at me “No… not this one… take… the 50-kilo one… arghh… hurry up… please…” My eyes widened, I released the “light” chain and braced myself to lift the fat massive 50-kilograms chain she wanted. I could not drag it up; it was too much weight for me to lift completely from the floor to the level of her hanging legs. “To heavy… I can’t” I had to say. Carol shook her massive frame and murmured “Attach two small ones… two to each ankle… pfghaaa…” It took me almost half a minute to complete the task; I secured each of the chain’s ring under her huge bulging calves. Carol was now hanging for over 5 minutes with 220 kilograms swelling massively under her ripped glutes, and 4 chains, 25-kilo each were firmly attached to her parallel to the floor feet. At the very moment I stepped back her legs went down. It was not a surprise; no way could she hold that much in this agonizing position. What came next made me fall to my knees. Carol roared and lifted her legs, knees straight, up to the horizontal and then down back to vertical, performing a jack-knife exercise with so much extra weight! She repeated this a further ten times, her pace slowing and her face reddening more and more as the gruelling exercise progressed. I was amazed at her stamina; the 10-pack of her abdominal has gotten 2 inches in depth, each and every perfectly shaped abs cube. I could completely insert a finger in between those massive slabs of abs-meat. “Nghaa… fuck… more… muscles… grow...!” she yield at her inhuman stomach-blocks in her insane efforts, lifting her legs up and down, performing the exercise in a perfect form. Each time the huge flesh of her thighs and calves rose, her back would arch slightly and her man-shaming pecs would seemingly expand in my direction. Her stomach developed wild cords of muscles at each side, whilst ridges of radiating she-beef pushed out, fighting for space. I was simply transfixed by this young muscle beast! How strong her abs has to be to crack rep after rep, furiously lifting 100 kilograms. “I’ll burn my muscles… to the limit… for… you… nghaa…” Gawd, I gasped as her back expanded like a cobra's hood, thick sinewy arms pushed further apart to accommodate her bulging lats. Carol’s chest rose by inches with the incredible efforts her exhausted body was performing, pectorals squeezed tighter together as she adjusted her rippling arms on the hanging bar, her eyes on fire looking at me. As if I was her main motivation to rip her over-developed physic to shreds. After another ten leg raises, she was slower than she had been at first but she obviously was not ready to stop yet. “Mggghhhhaaaa…” With a look of wild concentration on her face, Carol continued to pump those tree-trunk legs up and down, knees locked straight; sweat running down in streams over her bulging muscles. Her colossal abdominals, visibly more pumped-up now than before, writhed in a shaman dance beneath her smooth skin, pumping and pumping the big weight up and down. By twenty-five reps, tears were running down her cheeks, she was groaning in torment at each lift, yet still she continued. With a deep animalistic breathing, her pecs were rising higher than before. Instead of looking straight down, the edges of her 4-inches long nipples appeared to point straight forward, as she arched her back more. The behemoth young muscle girl looked down at her chest. Her face was in pain but I could read in them satisfaction of a weird kind. She was pleased with the size and rock-hardness of her bursting muscular pecs and stuck her tongue out, licking the upper surface of her mammoth veiny chest. The twenty-sixth lift was obviously a terrible effort, yet she managed to continue. I had never seen anyone push himself or herself so hard as this muscle-girl. Her abs-muscles were bulging so extremely hard, that the skin on them had started to become translucent. More fat veins appeared on them. Veins were running even on the discs of her nipples! Moreover, the nipples themselves were becoming more erect by the moment, pointing at my direction! Carol was gasping and screaming but continuing this impossible exercise. I really thought that she must finish at 26, judging by the state she was in, but over the next minute I gaped in amazement as she pushed herself beyond any thinkable reasonable limits, achieving more leg lifts, each more astonishing than the last. The 220 kilograms of additional weight attached to her waist was swelling in chaotic movements under this muscle beast, as she was shaking ever worse. At thirty, her whole body was trembling like a leaf as she hauled her legs upwards, with a gut-wrenching groan. Sweat mixed with her pussy juices was dripping from the chain to witch the heavy plates on her V-shaped waist were attached, her teeth gritted with the effort. She managed two more reps like this, each slower than the last. “Huff… fuuuck… so… heavy… so much… nghaa… look how hard… I can push my abs… for you…” her popping eyes came on me and she began the rep 33 in a terribly slowness, it took 15 seconds of eye-rolling effort to get those bulging legs up, yet she did it! At the top of this rep, she astounded me by holding her legs up instead of lowering them. Her face was a picture of agony and tears, her body shaking increasingly by the second as she fought to maintain this amazing demonstration of strength and endurance. Five, ten seconds, somehow she was holding it! “Grrrhhaaa… look at my abs…” they had become the biggest cubes I have ever seen on man or woman. Being in this agonizing state Carol rolled her abs slowly, making each block radiate with more power! I could not resist shamelessly admiring their cobblestone perfection as each brick of abdominal development took its moment of prominence on her swollen, coconut-sized columned tree of midsection. Even from where I stood, I could see the corded ridges of her abdominal muscles vibrating violently, as she hang there holding all the weight. Carol was saying something in between grunts and sobs of effort. These were the words that blew my mind completely “Ghaa… get… on… get on… my legs… please…” she said between gritted teeth. I obeyed in a state of dreamy astonishment and, using a ladder climbed on this massive, screaming in pain of insane efforts beautiful young muscle girl, resting my ass on her legs, right above her ankles , adding my 80 kilograms of weight to the impossible punishment her abs was going through. Instantly we dropped couple of inches and I thought we were going to fall. But Carol managed to stop the lowering of her legs, tensing her abs cubes even more! Her exhausted orbs of she-beef were now holding an insane weight of 180 kilograms! She took in a deep breath, threw her head back and began a long, agonised scream, her legs rising slightly with me as she threw last reserves of strength into this battle of will, restoring the perfect horizontal position. Gawd she was huge! I rested my hand on her colossal thighs in order to stabilize myself as her skin was wet and slippery of the sweat. My fingers grabbed the bulging meat of her upper legs, each muscle stich was so huge, hard and swollen that I had a feeling of holding a big roots in my hands. She breathed in and at that I thought the toaster-sized pectorals would have burst out of her skin. Carol’s 4,5-inches erect nipples were pointing right at my face! As the seconds ticked by, the shuddering of her body increased and she began to arch her back, all the time sobbing and growling in her impossible effort to hold us there, maintaining the position. A feeling of unreality creeped over me. All this was like some kind of bizarre dream. How hardcore this amazing muscle girl would go? Losing the last pieces of my reasonable mind, I let the situation take me over and shouted at her “Show me more! This is not enough, I want to see how strong you really are, push this pussy muscles harder!!” with that I dropped my pants and began to masturbate, sitting on top of those slabs of she-beef. A deep guttural growl left her mouth “Arhhhhh…. Yeeeeessss…!” she stuck her tongue out, her yes rolled into her skull and I heard a splash of pussy juices landing on the wet floor! Fuck, she was cumming! “This… is… for… you… nghhaaaaa…!” As if it was not enough of a strain to hold her legs up in this position with 100 kilograms of extra weight and me on them, never minding the 220 kilograms of metal suspended from her waist, her exhausted biceps began to heave us up. She was preforming a pull-up!!! Crazy. Her pecs pressed the bar, she lowered us and started the next one. In disbelief I watched as this muscle girl began to do pull-ups for reps with all in all 400 kilograms of additional weight supported by her insanely ripped body! Five… seven… ten… thirteen…, this was not human possible, but Carol was doing it, constantly cumming all the time. After the 15th rep, she stopped and lowered herself slowly until her elbows were bent at a right angle, her biceps bulging like never before, veins as thick as two fingers running over them. Each biceps had a well-defined and shredded head, and then another peak over that head! These huge pieces of she-flesh were not smaller than 29 inches in circumstance. I screamed at her “More…! Is this all you can do with those small muscles of yours?… show me more…!” Her head came up, she looked my in the eye and asked in a trembling sexiest voice I have ever heard “Are you… ready for… this…?” her face reddening more full of determination. I nodded, the sound of her abdominal muscles snapping loudly under the strain was driving me crazy. I could not believe she was about to make it any more difficult in her extreme dedication of muscle lust. Maintaining her flexed hanging position with her tired biceps, Carol began to scream like a banshee and unbelievably, she let go the bar with one of her hands, now holding us only with the sheer power of her half-curled right arm! I nearly lost conscious, witnessing this extreme feat of strengths. Holy fuck, how could she be this insanely ripped! “Unghhhhaaaaa…!” More tears ran on her cheeks. Mouth agape I stopped jerking off and looked at her right biceps, a third peak on top of the peak on top of the head of her bulging she-meat pushed the size of her flexed arm to unthinkable 32 inches in circumstance! I thought it is going to burst through her paper thin skin every second! Shaking badly but hanging there only by her half-curled right arm with all this extra weight Carol flexed her left biceps, caressing the top of it with her fingers, so huge it was, and brought it closer to her face, muscles fighting for space with her immense pecs. She licked the peak of it with her tongue! I could not believe what I was seeing. Then she uncurled the flexed and, still hanging by one arm, began to gently touch her shredded chest with her left hand, tracing the muscle stitches and bringing her fingers closer to her 5-inches erect nipple, throwing her head from side to side in pain and pleasure of this impossible effort. Then she whispered in her trembling voice “Look… how hard… I’m burning for you… mhhhaa…” she flexed her abs more and the grooves between them deepened to 3 inches! Fingers of her left hand caressed one of her big nipples, then the other and then she lowered her hand to travel over her radiating 10-pack, tracing every muscle cube. I was speechless, alternative my look from the ready to explode biceps of her right arm to the journey of her left arm’s fingers, which were going ever lower. It hit me like a lightning when her fingers encircled my cock. Her touch was incredibly gentle, as if she was not suffering of insane efforts holding all this weight with only one curled arm! Her condition was crazy, shaking insanely she began to softly jerk me off and murmured through sobs of incredible pain “Mmmmhh… my… nipples… squeeze them…” I did so and to my amazement they were longer and fatter than my cock! This girl was incredible. With all my power I started to masturbate her long nipples, desperately trying to bend them, but they were oh so hard! Carol gasped and gasped, losing her breath, her over-sized right biceps began to uncurl, more splash of her pussy juices landed on the floor. I saw her abdominals bulging insanely from her belly, looking like they were about to burst through the glossy, shuddering skin! Her thigh muscles looked amazing as they curved steeply from knee to hip, feathered with engorged veins. Carol’s right arm was fully stretched now, I marvelled the grip strength of hers, but expected us to fall every moment. Her body convulsed with the terrible effort. She was roaring wild. Instead of falling to the ground, we were moving slightly higher as her back muscles continued to arch her body ever further back. Minutes passed since I got on her legs and still Carol’s body was racked by her self-inflicted torture. Her lungs almost empty from screaming, somehow she held the awful tension in her right biceps, legs and endured the agony in her stomach, as she commanded her body to challenge the impossible by sheer force of will. With the fingers of her left hand going gently and fast up and down my cock, she whispered “Watch this… and come… for me…” she drew in a huge lungful of air and held it, her pectorals looking like they were about to burst from her skin, I jerked her nipples as they came closer to my face. Her man-shaming chest was thrust towards me, exploding with more definition. Her eyes were wide and bulging, her teeth locked in a grimace of agony. To my amazement, we began to rise, as she pulled up with her right biceps, which has grown to unthinkable 34 inches! “GRRRHHHAAAA…!” It must have taken enormous strength to pull the combined weight with 400 kilograms plus her own bodyweight upwards with her exhausted biceps, but we rose higher. She was doing an one-arm pull-up after all the cruel workout punishment she has went through! At the moment I saw her pecs being squashed against the bar, I came so hard that I fainted. When my senses came back to me, I found myself laying on the wet floor. I opened my eyes, looked up and saw Carol. She was still hanging from the bar by her right arm, 220 kilograms swelling heavily from her waist. Her bulging legs were now stretched in a perfect 180 degree agonizing split position, with two 25-kilo chains hanging from each ankle. With fingers of her left hand she was furiously jerking her huge clit… For more insane stories check https://www.deviantart.com/foker and patreon_dot_com/foker Cheers!
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