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  1. Introndunction: Muscle man is interrupted during workout The cell door buzzed and slid open just as the hunk inside finished another set of deadlifts. The impact of his barbell slamming onto the mat was heard throughout the compound, joining the ever-present medley of burly men lifting heavy shit. The guard paused for the reverberations to subside before stepping in. The hunk turned to face him, mouth open, chest heaving, waiting for the guard to say something. "You've been called for inspection." The guard pulled a set of handcuffs from his belt. "I hope that was your last set because I'm meant to get you right away." "Man, I thought we agreed you wouldn't interrupt any of my workouts, " The hunk tossed his wrist wraps and began wiping the sweat off of his bar. "so what's this? You know there's only a few weeks left for us. Ain't got time for all-" "This isn't from us, man." The guard cut him off and opened the handcuffs. "It's from the big house. Some pompous twink came down from the estate to check on things, fuck knows why. Got a real stick up his ass. Wardens' refusing to do shit about him." The hunk finished putting on his tank top and turned around to be cuffed. "Why didn't ya'll just tell him what you tell every other pompous twink from the estate?" The door closed as they exited the cell, the guard leading the cuffed hunk toward the inspection. "All I know is this cunt is too important for any of the wardens to tell him to fuck off. So we're stuck. Prick's making shit harder for all of us." The guard spoke quietly to his prisoner. "Keeps trying to tell us what to do. Like he'd know a fucking thing about building muscles." The sound of weights and grunting grew quiet as the two men walked further from the cell block. "We'll see what he has to say. Speaking of, " The guard stops in front of his prisoner and pulls him close. "This guy is... You know how these guys are." The hunk smiled. "Don't sweat it. Let's get this over with." He turned towards the administrator office. The guard patted him on the shoulder. "Alright... Slave. Follow me." Part bullshit: The Twink Talks Too Much The pompous twink looked up from the desk and smiled as the men entered the administrator office. "Here is the prisoner you requested, Mister Master." The guard shut the door behind them. "Thank you very much. As I am sure the guard has informed you, slave, I am here to conduct an inspection of the company's property-... " The twink spoke many words and neither the hunk or the guard cared to hear most of them as evidenced by the knowing glances they kept shooting eachother. They were not accustomed to the volume of corporate garbage that spewed out from the skinny twigs on the hill. "... and although I have absolute faith in the professionalism and work ehtic of our highly trained staff in this compound-... " His words and gestures brought him up from the desk chair all the way to the examination table and ended beside the scale. He held a measuring tape in one hand and extended the other towards the guard. He was quiet long enough for the guard to realise his speech was over. "Pardon me, Mister Master?" the guard wore a puzzled look on his face same as the restrained hunk. "The keys, please. In order to accomplish what I must I need this slave to be unrestrained." The twink waited for the guard to hand over his keys. "Of course." The guard quickly unlocked the prisoner and handed the keys along with the cuffs to the twink in charge. "Thank you. Now if you will excuse me for a moment I shall begin immediately." He placed the cuffs and keys on the table. "Uh... Mister Master... " The guard stepped ahead of the prisoner as if to speak on his behalf. "Our protocol says not to leave unrestrained prisoners without the supervision of at least one guard or warden. Are you sure about carrying out this inspection alone?" "Yes, I am sure. Your protocol pertains to prisoners, not slaves. And besides, " he picked up the cuffs and twirled them around his finger "I am sure it won't be a problem now that I have these. You're excused." "Well alright, Mister Master... " The guard turned to leave. He saw the hunk with a look on his face that said What the fuck, man? and replied with an expression that said I don't fucking know, man. "I'll be outside." Part The Muscle Worship The hunk rubbed his wrists as the guard left the room. He cleared his throat and took off his tank top. He put the garment on a shelf and lowered his gaze, waiting for the twink to begin his inspection. He cleared his throat and held his hands behind his back. He cleared his throat a third time and dared to look up at the twink. Thinking he had something on his body, he looked down to see what the twink was staring at. He couldn't see what it was. "Mister Master?" The hunk waited for a response. "You wanna get started?" He stood motionless as if transfixed, leaning against the front of the desk, breathing deeply with his mouth open. His eyes blinked from the sight in front of him, at once too much but not enough to look away. They wandered over the hunk's body, from his shoulders down to his waist, up to his neck and down to his arms. The longer the twink stared the bigger the prisoner got. The more veins he could make out through his skin, the more definition manifested in his abs, the more bulges appeared on his arms, until he realized the hunk had gotten closer. The twink's breathing slowed as he felt the bodyheat radiating from the prisoner's chest on his face. "Hey. What do you want to measure, Mister Master?" The hunk spoke softly and held up his right arm to flex. "Wanna measure my biceps?" He looked over the bulging mound on his arm and smiled to himself. "Or do you wanna measure the other one? Huh?" He put his right hand up on his hip and repeated the pose with his left arm. Just as big a protrusion, just as prominent a vein. Finally the twink snapped out of his trance and turned to face away from the hunk. "No, that isn't what-..." The twink cleared his throat before taking the measuring tape in both his hands. He turned to face the hunk who had his arms crossed in front of him. "That is not what I came here for." "Well then. What do you wanna measure, little man?" The hunk looked down at the twink and teased him. "I got something if you're out of ideas." "It's your ch-... Your chest. I am here to measure you. Your chest." The twink mustered his quickly fading pompousness, put one hand on his hip and looked up at the hunk. "Would you kindly put your arms down at your sides, please?" He brought the tape around his waist as the hunk complied, unfolding his arms. "Thank you." "So it's please and thank you now, huh?" The hunk let out a hearty chuckle. "Be quiet. And put your arms behind your head, please." The twink carried the tape up and around the hunk's chest and held it to read. "What does it say?" The hunk put his arms down and leaned into the desk. He put his arms on either side of the tiny man, trapping him against the desk. "Huh? What number do you have there, little man?" "Fifty-... " The twink stuttered as the hunk closed in on him and he realized his predicament. "Fifty what? I know what it says. I coulda told you what it said. Give it here." The hunk grabbed the tape out of the twink's hands and wrapped it around his scrawny body. "Hey, what on earth do you think you-" The twink began to protest but stopped. He gave in to the thick, veiny arms putting the measuring tape around his chest and let his eyes wander over them. Over the round deltoids and defined veins that framed the behemoth in front of him. The hunk held his gaze after taking his width. "Yours didn't say fifty. Didn't say forty either." He let go of the tape and put his arms around the small man. "Put your hands up on my shoulders." The twink complied as the man who towered above him commanded. "Come here." He buried the twink's face in between his massive pecs. "Oh... Your muscles... So big... " The twink moaned into the muscular chest. He huffed and puffed as if wanting to inhale the bulging pecs into his lungs. He squeezed, rubbed, groped and massaged the beast everywhere his dainty hands could reach. "You didn't need to interrupt my motherfucking workout if you wanted all this." The hunk spoke gently. "Hm? You think that it's okay to fuck with my workout like that?" "No... Not ever... " He whispered his reply with his cheek pressed into the hunk's firm body. "You're gonna make up for my missed workout, aren't you?" He took the twink's hand in his own and guided it down his sculpted abdomen. "Yes... Oh your muscles are so-... " The twink trailed off in a sharp gasp as he felt the ripples in the hunk's developed abs. "You know a body like mine doesn't come easy." He lead the twink's soft hand down to his confined member and squeezed it. "Show me how grateful you are." The twink tried to pull his hand off the firm metal to no avail. "No, I don't-" He averted his eyes from the stud in front of him. "I could not unlock your cage. We would both be in trouble!" "Only you and I will know." He began taking off his workout pants. "I know you want to make me happy." "I do!" The twink looked up into his eyes with a pleading expression, hoping for understanding and forgivness for this supposed wrongdoing. "I would do anything for you... Anything but that." The hunk backed up, slowly releasing the twink from his muscular confinement. "That's alright, Mister Master..." He took the twink's face in his hands and kissed him deeply. "That's alright... You just let me know when you're ready..." The hunk placed one final kiss on his neck. "... And don't forget about me." "No, stop- Wait!" He nearly fell over trying to get away from the bodybuilder's final caress. "What are you doing? You absolute-..." The twink rubbed the angry red blotch on his neck where the hunk had planted his lips. Before he could realize it the hunk had taken his tank and headed out the door. He was left standing in the administrator office, face flushed, neck swollen, hard as steel and wondering when he would get to see his new obsession again. Part: The Almost Whipping Congregations of swole convicts stood chattering among themselves in the sunshine. They were smoking, playing cards or throwing a hand ball. Their voices grew silent as a guard strode across the yard. The hunk tucked the ball under his arm and waited. "Need you to come with me, man." The guard made a motion for him to follow as he turned back the way he came. The hunk passed the ball to a fellow convict before hurrying to catch up with the guard. "You going to tell me what the fuck is going on?" They turned a corner past the security checkpoint, leaving the cellblock behind. "And whatever it is better be worth dragging me out during yard time. You know it's only three more weeks until-" "Look, I didn't ask what you did to him because you said that you handled it. So why he asked for you by name-" The hunk grabbed the guard by his shoulder and pushed him up against the wall. "Are you talking about that baby fetus motherfucker who had his hands all over me last week? The same one?" "Yeah. Who you said that you took care of." The guard pushed the hunk away from him and straightened his uniform. "I let you get away with a lot of shit, man. But you better tell me something. Why does he want to see you again?" "No, you listen to me because I'm about to tell you something. You tell that dickless, spineless fucking warden that if he doesn't deal with this shrimp and send him back up the hill with the rest of those motherfucking-" "It's estate business." The guard emphasised each word. "What do you want him to do about it? Huh?" The hunk sighed and put his hands on his hips. "This better be the last time. Or I'll make him regret it." Part: The Definitely Whipping The twink stood panting, face flushed and sweaty, his brow was furrowed. He held a short leather whip in one hand and wiped the sweat off of his forehead with the other. He wore a high collar dress shirt with frilled cuffs. He looked ridiculous. "Taking a break?" The shirtless hunk stood against a wall, his wrists chained at shoulder height on either side of him. He spoke in a condescending tone, in spite of the many red marks on his body. "Be quiet!" The twink raised his whip and struck the prisoner on his shoulder. "You absolute jerk. You have no right to speak to me that way after what you did to me." "You liked it." The hunk rolled his shoulders, his chains clattered against the wall. "Or was all that moaning and feeling me up just acting? Like you acting angry about it." The twink got up in the prisoner's face and spoke angrily. "You could not begin to understand the stress that I was forced to go through to cover up the mark you left on me, you animal." He turned away and put the whip on the desk. He rubbed the hand it was in. "We are not meant to have intimate relations with our slaves. It goes against everything that grand daddy taught us, everything that this company has been trying to acheive for-" The hunk was focused on the restraint chaining his left arm to the wall. It wiggled back and forth as he tugged. The hunk tested it by wrenching his arm towards himself. The anchor came loose and slid out of the wall. "... I needed to get closer to you. And then when we met in the office I-... Something just came over me and... I got carried away. It cannot happen again, understand?" "Why can't we just be together?" The hunk sounded earnest. He turned around and began testing the second wall restraint. "Have you not heard anything that I have been saying?" He sounded hurt. "I want to be with you, it is just that-... " the twink sighed deeply. "This acquisition is really important and- Hey, what are you doing?" The twink turned around in time to see the hunk with one foot planted on the wall, straining to rip the restraint out. The anchor flew out of the wall with a loud crash. Chunks of brick shattered on the floor. "Whew! God damn!" The hunk congratulated himself and turned around. "What were you saying?" The twink ran for the door but was grabbed by the hunk and fell on his ass. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" The hunk stood over the twink with his restraints dangling from his wrists. His body was covered in angry red welts. His chest moved up and down as he breathed from the exertion. Looking up at the brute made his V-shaped body look bigger than it already was. Bulging muscles beneath every square inch of him revealed the inhuman strength that dwelled inside of him. "Please do not hurt me." The twink pleaded for mercy from the unchained beast. "Why would I do that?" The hunk fished the keys out of the twink's pockets. "Why would I hurt you, huh? Because you chained me up to a fucking wall?" "I am sorry, please just-" "Oh, because you fucking whipped me when I couldn't defend myself? Is that why I would hurt you? Or because you called me an animal?" He lifted him up by his shirt collar and slammed him against the wall, his feet dangling inches off the floor. "Look at me, " he forced the twink to meet his gaze and spoke quietly, "I don't give a fuck about an inspection, discipline or whatever other bullshit you come up with. I best not never, ever, see you in this cellblock again. I won't beat your ass this time." He dangled the keys next to his face. "But I will hold on to these." He let go and exited the office, keys firmly in his pocket. Part: The P-valley fan fiction The convicts who shared their pod with the hunk experienced a growth spurt immediately after his encounter with the twink. They unearthed a kinship that had been buried deep inside of them for years. Collectively the burly men managed to pack on more muscle mass in that one week than they had in any week previous. Word spread throughout the penitentiary of Cellblock D and its inhabitants, of the musclebound hunks that walked its halls and where everybody seemed like they were happy to be locked up. News eventually reached a grand daddy. He sat in the backseat with his grand son while their chauffeur drove them to the estate. "How in the hell did those slaves get a universal chastity cage key? Hm?" The twink looked at the key that was stolen from him, now in the hands of his grand daddy. He did not say a word. "... Are you fuckin our slaves?" The grand daddy was staring intently at the twink. "No!" The twink shot a quick glance at his grand daddy. He sounded nervous. "Well somebody must have grovelled at more than just your feet to get this. Somebody must have grovelled at your dick." "I have not made any intimate contact with our slaves, grand daddy, that is absolutely-" "Whoever you are fuckin is you and your daddy's business." The twink gulped at the thought of his daddy finding out what he had been doing. "I just want to know how you lost something like this, boy." He held the key up to emphasize his point. "I guess I must have had it on me and-... Lost it somewhere in the cellblock." The twink looked back at his grand daddy who had put the key away and turned his head to the side. "The only reason I was in that compound-... I wanted to make sure everything was right before the acquisition-" The grand daddy put his hand up. "Look, just spare me the motherfuckin bullshit. No, those slaves have fucked you. And probably fucked this whole acquisition." The grand daddy took a deep breath. "I've gotta go in this fuckin estate, talk to your daddy about un-fuckin this situation, and gettin this fuckin acquisition done. You just keep your dick out of that cellblock, boy." He exited the car and went up the estate stairs, key in hand. The twink stayed in the car, head buried in his hands. "Mister Master? We have arrived." The chauffeur looked at the sad twink in the rear-view mirror. The twink sat back, told the driver where he wanted to go and buckled his seat belt. The driver pulled off and began the journey to the growth labs. Part: Mega Muscle Mania AKA The Fight The cell door buzzed and slid open. The hunk sat up on his bunk and folded his book. A colossus made out of meat, muscles and rough skin stretched over veins stood in the doorway. The giant was squeezed into a guard's uniform. He ducked his head under the door frame and aangled his broad shoulders to enter the cell. "You need to accompany me." The hunk laughed upon arriving at the administrators office. The debris was removed. Two holes remained in the brick wall where he had wrenched himself free. "Here." He fished the chastity cage key out of his pocket, tossed it into the air and caught it. "This what you want, right?" "Take off your clothes, slave." The hunk stood motionless. He saw something in the eyes of the beast. "Right now!" The beast bellowed in a deep voice. "... Mister Master?" The hunk looked up and down the behemoth, looking for a sign of the pompous twink. "What the fuck happened to you?" The beast chuckled and took off the prison guard shirt. "Got big. Even bigger than you. Bigger than any of you slaves could ever be." He tensed his abs, showing deep grooves in his muscular body. "Are you still going to beat my ass, huh? You cannot do anything to me now, slave." He approached the hunk. The hunk backed up into the desk. "Look, whatever you think you came here to do-" "I came here to see you. They know what I have done. Daddy knows." He laughed. "The acquisition is tomorrow. Luckily for you, slave, I want to be with you one last time before it is all over. Now will you kindly take off your clothes." "Look, I get it. That was a little outta line. But this ain't-" "Stop talking, slave. I have waited long enough for this moment, and now I have the strength to make you do as I say. Take off your clothes or I will have to hurt you." The hunk turned his body and clenched his fists. "Listen, you little twink... You don't want a run with me." "Have it your way, you insolent cretin." The beast pounced at the hunk. The hunk rolled over the table and kicked it at the beast. The beast caught it, picked it up and yelled. "I will teach you respect!" He threw the good oak desk at the hunk who narrowly dodged out of the way. Shards of wood splintered off the fractured desk and landed on the floor. The beast tried to grab the hunk but staggered backwards from a fast uppercut. The hunk did not relent, battering the beast with practiced precision. The beast struck out with one arm, shoving his attacker away. "You ain't a fighter, twink." The hunk put his hands up to fight. The beast roared and swung his fists, throwing haphazard punches in the hunk's direction. One blow connected and with enough force to send the hunk reeling backwards. The beast stood triumphant, his heavy chest was moving up and down in time with his quickened breathing. "You're not that fucking strong either." The hunk charged at the beast and pummeled his midsection. As the giant keeled over, the hunk forced his elbow down onto his back, knocking him onto the floor. The beast was gasping for air, clutching its meaty body and wheezing. "... Savage... I will kill you..." The beast gasped and heaved for every breath. The hunk kicked the heaving beast onto the floor, eliciting an earthy roar. "You can't fight." He kicked his pained adversary in the back. "You can't move." He kicked the beast in his stomach, evoking further anguished struggling for breath. "You can't even hardly breathe." The hunk backed away to catch his own breath. He picked up the prison guard's shirt. "... No. You really can't do anything." The hunk walked over to the panting mass of muscle and grabbed him by the belt. With a roar he lifted the beast over his head and threw him into the desk. The legs crumbled from the force of the impact. The countertop shattered under the weight of his muscles. The hunk looked over the defeated giant, at the bruises he had left for him, the places where splinters had embedded themselves in his flesh. The beast stopped moving. The hunk began to undress. Part: The motherfucking epilogue, bitch. Motherfucking closure, bitch. Happily ever fucking after, bitch. The twink woke to a dull pain growing in his back. He heard pattering on the window. It was day time. Amidst the trees was a van parked beside the building he found himself in. As he shifted on the mattress he roused several sharp tingles. On his ribs, his arms, his jaw. Suddenly everywhere was shooting pain. He shouted from the agony. Only a rasp was able to make it out of his parched throat. The bunk creaked as he tossed and turned in misery. A muscled arm stretched itself toward him. It offered a drink of water. "It hurts." Even after drinking he still sounded like death. "Got some salve that might help but..." The hunk looked at the tub of cream in his hand. "Lie still. You gotta rest." "Where am I?" The twink looked out onto the van again. Secure Transport - Lannahechee State Penitentiary He shut his eyes tight and braced himself against the pains that stabbed at his body. "It's a safehouse. Carlton city's not far. Should be able to get outta here in a few days, maybe a week." The hunk looked over the familiar shape of the pompous twink. He looked as when he was bulked up and gasping for his life. His skinny body was curled up under the cover with oversized bruises. They looked more painful on his small frame than they had on the giant that threw the office desk. "It hurts..." He groaned in pain. The hunk sat on the edge of the bunk. "You'll be alright, little man." He took the twink's hand in his own. He looked at the rain pouring outside of the window. "You'll be alright." *** THE END ***
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