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  1. timovdrow

    posing Pose for us, Bull (short scene)

    I wrote this short-scene a while back as a caption for the following photo. When I wrote this (and other similar content), I was just diving deeper into bodybuilding and how it articulated with my muscle fetish, especially as it relates to domination and submission; and I really got into imagining my ideal D/S dynamic through this captions, informed by my conversations with different admirers/growers/doms at that time. But as with many things, I let it fall to wayside. It wasn't until this week that I started thinking more intentionally about this again. As I continue to work with my coach and enter a lean bulk, I want to draw from this side of my psychosexuality again to really push my limits day in and day out -- after all, bodybuilding is about consistent dedication and effort. But I didn't know where to pick things up again. So it was a happy coincidence when I came across a topic in the general section on the theme of "growth as submission" the same day I decided to browse some of my blog's older posts. This is a quick edit but if folks are receptive and interesting in the themes, styles, etc here, I would be very motivated to follow through with a longer project to dive deeper. The plan would be to explore the progression of this dynamic using the seven deadly sins as a framework. Anyway, anyway, here's Wonderwall (lol). ___ “Sir, must I really pose like this for your friends?” he asked with stink on his face. You'd just finished a group workout. Some pals from out of town wanted to get a quick sweat session in during their visit, so you suggested a local kickboxing class later that afternoon. You knew that this type of exercise wouldn’t enough for your bull – cardio with a little pump is all it was for him, – but you dragged him along anyway. Your friends would appreciate seeing him in action after all. They had ogled over him the time before, privately commenting to you about him in a fluster: “His arms are so big!” “You get to sleep on that chest at night? So lucky!!” “I wish my boyfriend looked that good.” This time around, you had the devilish idea of giving your lusty friends a show, having your bull go through the post-workout posing routine he usually performs in your bedroom. But, you were sure that your friends wouldn’t see the full scope of what this show meant. They were white-collar types more interested in having fun with a side of fitness. Spin or Crossfit classes and brunch white-collar types. So they'd probably see his posing routine as sensual at first -- and who could blame them. Big man in underwear. Simply groundbreaking. Eventually eyes will start to wander, missing the purpose behind each movement. More muscles? What's next. At least if you know your bull. He'll probably be shy and conservative, giving half-hearted flexes at the top of each pose. Amazing to most but practically limp in your eyes. But you’re prepared to push his boundaries today. “Yes I’m serious. Give us a taste of how you’ve been coming along, big guy,” you demand, taking a seat with the rest of your friends chatting in between sips of Gatorade. He gives a shy double-bi towards the mirror, displaying his 19” arms and robust shoulder-chest tie ins. His tank rides over his belly a good hand-width. Your friend Charlene glances over from her conversation and gives a short hoot, “Looking good!” You catch his eyes, glancing down at his torso and legs, his tank and shorts, and back to his face. You nod and mouth “off.” He grimaces and returns a pained expression; clearly he’d rather not. You mouth “off,” again, knitting your eye brows sternly. Begrudging, Bull begins to pull his shorts down and toss them to his side, the tank following. That left him in just your favorite pair of white briefs, nearly every inch of his growing body exposed to strangers. “He’s going to be preparing for a show, guys, so I think it’s best to have get into the spirit.” The rest of your friends turn to look at the curated specimen in front of them. It was hard not too – without the oversized shirt and basketball shorts, his enhanced development was more than evident. You both had been working diligently to thicken up a lot more before dieting down for his contest, putting extra effort into piling more meat onto those delts and traps. You both wanted a bull with a neck worthy of a yoke. Taking a deep breath, he began anew, locking eye contact with you and only you. He hit pose after pose, never breaking sight despite comments being thrown around: “He’s definitely gotten bigger!” "Oh my god, he must eat for an entire family." "That's kinda cool, I guess." He hit a most muscular as his finisher, bringing in his arms tight over his torso and showcasing the fibers and new vascularity over his shoulders and traps – you both noticed that they had begun to swallow up his neck in the last few weeks, especially in this position. “More,” you mouth. He brings his arms in closer, bulging his traps out higher. “More,” you mouth again. His fists clench harder; his eyes begin to glaze over, and you notice his entire body pulse as he brings his muscles to contract even harder. Just for you. He’s beginning to shake from the effort, small veins snaking higher and higher across his chest and neck. You know what he’s thinking, how he’s feeling. He’s been there before with you: I’m a growing muscle bull, growing bigger and bigger because I need to. Let me show you, sir. Let me show you how big I want to be. Please. “And that’s the end!” you say to your friends, motioning to your bull to stop and get dressed. His eyes widen and cheeks redden, immediately turning around to grab his clothes. Scanning their faces, your initial prediction was correct: they don’t get it. Some were looking at their phones; one gave a fake smile, and another continued to look at him with contorted confusion on his face. “He really looked kind of scary for a second,” one whispers to you. Your bull notices this, throwing you a desperate glance. “We’re planning to come in about 10lbs heavier next year too! Maybe 15 of lean muscle, if we work harder.” “Don’t you think that’s too big?” another asks. Your bull approaches the group, half-dressed and drenched in more sweat after his posing; he looks at you, eyes wide with anticipation for how you’re about to respond. “No. I want him bigger. And he likes that too,” you say boldly, giving his shoulder a tight squeeze. Your fingers can’t dig into his meaty delts anymore; they’re harder than before. He reflexively tights his shoulders even more, pushing your fingers out. His cheeks are fiery red. Is that a little guilt you feel? Bull turns to you, your friends, and back to you, speaking through a quivering but excited voice, “Yeah, he’s right. It’s almost an addiction, but better bodybuilding than smoking.” No, that's pride. __________ “You know that once you hit 240, you’re gonna get more comments like that,” you say. He puts down a shaker bottle full of protein and all sorts of supplements alien to you, responding, “yeah, but I’ll get used to it. My current physique is on the edge of sensibility, but posing for them all today and…losing myself…it felt amazing.” “Because your routine was on point?” “No, because I felt like I didn’t care. I was posing for you, even when you pushed me further and I freaked out your girlfriends,” he murmured looking down at his feet. He sighed, throwing a slight smile at you and finishing the rest of his protein shake. “Though to be honest, I think they were busier looking at your boner than my poses towards the end.”
  2. LJackson

    m/m MaxandharryandmaX: A serial (?)

    Okay, here's the start of something new. Let me know if you want me to carry on! What you need to understand is that Harry and I had been friends all our lives, or nearly. When we were in playgroup, I chewed on his toy car. When we went to school together, we taught one another to read. If a teacher asked me what my name was, I’d say: “Max and Harry.” For years, right up till we went to university, people would call us Maxandharry or Harryandmax. Even at Uni, him studying Biological Sciences and me doing Business Studies, we texted nearly every day. For a while, after celebrating our Friendversary, we even changed our Faceboook names to MaxandharryandharryandmaX, till he pointed out it looked a bit gay. I felt a bit sad changing it, but my girlfriend of the time told me he was right. In the years since then, of course, we drifted apart a bit. We were both in London but we would only meet for a drink every couple of months. I guess he slowly started noticing a change in me about summer 2019 when I had made a special effort to get #BeachBodyReady. ‘Shit, mate, you really do have a gym membership, don’t you?’ he said. ‘When are Men’s Health ringing you for a cover feature?’ I was in a short sleeved shirt and I was feeling pretty good about myself back then, but still I knew he was talking shit. ‘Bro, have you seen the guys on Love Island? All I’ve done so far is lose a bit weight really.’ ‘Impressive though,’ he said, sinking the last of his pint. ‘I don’t think so,’ I said. ‘Not yet.’ ‘Well, I reckon Niamh would think so,’ he said. I cuffed his shoulder. ‘She’s not superficial like other ho’s,’ I said. ‘Girls like that sort of thing, though,’ he said. He looked down at himself. ‘They can’t help themselves.’ ‘They like to see we’re taking care of ourselves,’ I told him. ‘Anyway, you’re far from overweight, dude.’ ‘Underweight, if anything,’ he said. ‘I do my heavy lifting with this.’ He tapped his brow, and we both laughed. ‘Mind you don’t go impairing it with two many hipster beers, then,’ I said, getting up to fetch another round. ‘If you promise not to go crazy with this gym stuff,’ he said. ‘You’re fine as you are.’ But I knew he was wrong. By the time we met to toast Christmas, he couldn’t resist squeezing my arm. ‘Holy shit!’ he said, eyes wide. ‘I thought you just had a big jumper on under that coat. You’re huge!’ ‘Not as big as I’d like,’ I couldn’t help saying, blushing. ‘Still a way to go.’ ‘What do you weight though…?’ ‘About 70kg,’ I said, automatically. ‘Roughly 150lbs.’ ‘Whoa,’ he said, ‘I didn’t expect you to actually know. You must be taking this seriously.’ I shrugged. ‘It’s fun too.’ ‘Bet you’re not drinking tonight.’ ‘Maybe just the one. My body fat’s down to 7%.’ I sipped my orange juice. ‘It feels great, though. I’m so alive, so capable. And, bro, let me tell you, the girls are hanging round me like flies around shit.’ God, it felt good.. Harry didn’t seem to feel so, though. ‘Mate, I didn’t need to have another reason to feel inferior,’ he sighed. His mouth was proper down-turned. ‘Niamh,’ I said, testingly. He nodded glumly. ‘I wasn't enough for her, it seems.’ ‘You were too good for her, anyway,’ I said, although I wasn’t sure how true it was. There he sat, a weedy little guy with glasses, maybe half my size. He couldn’t have lifted a weight above his head, let alone bench-pressed what I was doing. He looked pretty pathetic. ‘Maybe you should join my gym. Just to cheer yourself up.’ ‘Can’t think of anything worse,’ he said. ‘Come off it, mate,’ I said. ‘Build a bit of muscle and you’ll feel amazing. Imagine if Niamh sees you on the beach next summer with your shirt off, biceps bulging, pecs rippling…’ I tailed off, thinking how ridiculous this sounded. Even if I could persuade him to take some exercise, I thought, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea for him to take his shirt off on camera. He was still as lean and hairless as when we both set off for University. I wondered, was I naturally superior to him? Niamh would certainly have picked me over him for a mate: law of the jungle. I’ve have shown her a better time, as well. I didn’t like to think how embarrassing Harry must have been in bed. I shook my head to clear it. Harry had been talking to me and all the time I’d been thinking about banging his girlfriend, cucking him in his own bed. Crazy thinking. I interrupted him: ‘I don’t want to hear any shit, mate, you’re coming with me to the gym tomorrow and that’s that.’ He sat back in surprise, held up his hands. ‘Fine. Fine!’ There was a long pause. Finally he laughed and got up to go to the bar. ‘Better get a round in while I’m still allowed, then!’ ‘Skip the crisps this time, okay,’ I laughed back. ‘2020’s going to be your year.’ And to be fair to him, he turned up. He obeyed me, as if I was in control of him. He did the exercises I told him to do. He changed his diet. It became quite fun, turning up to see him at the gym – maybe not as often as I would be there, but at least a couple of times a week. He didn’t enjoy it but he worked hard. At the end of January, he had actually lost a bit of weight – but sadly, he hadn’t put on a single shred of muscle. We stood looking at one another in the mirror. ‘I can’t fucking believe it,’ he said. ‘I’m actually smaller than before.’ ‘I’ve just grown bigger,’ I said, ‘that’s all, mate.’ ‘Bullshit,’ he said. ‘Yes, you’re bigger but look at me. I’m a shrimp. Nobody would guess we were the same age.’ ‘You’re a week younger,’ I told him, shrugging off my sweaty vest. ‘Maybe you’ll always be…’ Again, I didn’t want to say the truth. ‘What?’ he demanded. ‘What were you going to say? Weaker? Smaller? Inferior?’ ‘But only to me,’ I told him. ‘You might put on some muscle by summer. You won’t be strong but you’ll be fit.’ ‘That’s really what you think of me,’ he said, eyes wide. Furious. He looked like he wanted to pick a fight with me, but something rational was stopping him. He’d be mullered in a second. Instead, he ran away. Just grabbed his bag and stormed out. I should have run after him, but I was meeting this girl for dinner. He had told me on Tinder that she wanted me to fuck her like an animal, and I was still wondering how best to do that. I was too distracted. That was half my trouble. MaxandharryandharryandmaX was in trouble for the first time in history. An unshakeable bond, broken by the gym. Or maybe more, I thought. Maybe by masculinity and testosterone. Maybe by alpha male power. It could never be equal again now that I had begun to dominate. February slipped past, and I thought about him every day. I dreamt about him. I dreamt he was watching while I effortlessly fucked Niamh. I was pumped and bigger than ever while I worked at her tight snatch, and he got smaller while he watched me. In March, I finally sent him a message. ‘Miss lifting weights with you. Miss lifting pints even more.’ He replied almost straight away. ‘Maybe we should resume one of those activities. Guess which one.’ ‘Gym’s open longer hours,’ I replied, with a emoji to show I wasn’t serious. ‘Mate,’ he texted back, ‘I wouldn’t go there right now.’ ‘Why?’ I asked, expecting a joke. And so, Harry was the first person to tell me about coronavirus. I thought it was just him making an excuse about not exercising. I don’t follow the news, don’t really do social media; in fact, I was pretty buried in work and working out. I suppose, I also didn’t want it to be true. I was in full denial. And so, inevitably, I caught it. I’m strong. I’m healthy. I don’t even take roids, so no strain on my heart. So I guess I was well prepared for it. Even so, it knocked me out for longer than I expected. Those were some crazy weeks. Maybe the weeks that followed were even stranger. Apart from work, Harry was the main person I was in contact with during lockdown. At first we talked a bit about fitness: my gym had closed. I tried to buy gym equipment online, but there was none available. ‘I must have got the last set,’ Harry told me. He told me it was the one good thing in his life now. It was hard for him - he was still so weak - so I sent him tips over email, links to videos and online advice. He asked me questions about diets and supplements and steroids. I told him to do it all clean, which disappointed him, being the biology scientist – he wanted to make himself into his own experiment. But it was a good thing. It was like we were the same person after all, just slightly out of phase. Except I couldn’t work out, not properly. I did some bodyweight stuff and started running. The muscle just melted away. I ended up looking as lean as a stick of celery. ‘You’re going to end up as my trainer,’ he said, when we talked about it. I didn’t like that. What if he caught me up? So we didn’t talk about it. And the lockdown rolled by. The lockdown was raised. Life began to return to normal. It was September when we arranged to meet again. A few drinks in the same old pub we used to frequent – but first, we would work out together, side by side. It struck me, as I walked towards the bench press: we were equals at last. MaxandharryandharryandmaX had been brought closer together by the quarantine. We had both realised something: his innate power, my humility. At last, we would be best friends once again. The only problem was, he didn’t appear to have showed up. The gym was pretty much empty, and the only person hanging around our agreed meeting spot was a big guy. Proper monster. Shaved head. Lats out to here, waist in here, a real triangle. He looked nearly a foot taller than me and I was worried for a second. In an empty gym, it’s pretty bad etiquette to stand waiting for a piece of equipment. I didn’t want him to think I was trying anything on; he could have ripped me apart. He turned around and the light glinted off his glasses. He smiled. ‘Hey, Max, you made it!’ ‘Harry?!’ I couldn’t believe it. I thought it was a wind-up. He opened his arms inviting me for a hug. Each arm was as big as both of mine put together. The muscle was thick and pumped as if he had just completed a workout, not spent months in quarantine. ‘Harry,’ I said, looking up at him. ‘This is insane. You’re a fucking beast.’ ‘I used the lockdown well,’ he said seriously. His voice had grown deeper. It was like talking to a different man with my friend’s face, one who towered over me. ‘All this came from working out?’ ‘Of course,’ he said. ‘I see you went the other way.’ I looked down at myself, blushing. ‘Yes, I’m pretty small these days.’ ‘How big were you before the lockdown?’ he asked me. ‘Let’s not talk about it,’ I said. ‘Maybe we should –’ ‘Cut the crap,’ he said. ‘I asked you a question.’ ‘About 75kg,’ I told him. ‘165lbs.’ He shook his head in disbelief. ‘You used to seem so big,’ he said. He ran his hands over the huge globes of his chest and the hard, thick ripples of his abdominals, lightly brushing his fingers across the giant vascular boulders of his biceps and the vast shoulder-muscles that framed his firm chin. ‘I’m about 270lbs. 125kg.’ ‘It’s not possible,’ I said. ‘Feel it,’ he said. ‘Then you’ll know how possible it is.’ I laughed and held up my hands. ‘That’s fine, I’ll believe you.’ ‘What is the problem with you?’ he said. He didn’t raise his voice but the authority was clear. ‘I told you to feel it, you little bitch.’ ‘Are you okay?’ I asked him. He shook his head for a second. ‘Sorry, bro. It’s the testosterone. Sometimes I lose control. I mean, it’s true that you’re little. And you’re being a bitch.’ He put a hand over his mouth and blushed. The redness spread down his huge neck where it got lost at the tops of his pecs. ‘Jesus. Just bants, mate. Just bants!’ ‘Will it help you if I – if I feel your muscle?’ I said, putting my hands on his physique. ‘Be careful,’ he said. ‘I’m like a loaded gun nowadays.’ ‘More like a cannon,’ I said, feeling his might. ‘The Incredible Hulk has nothing on you. So you went for the steroids after all?’ ‘No way, you little cunt,’ he said, breathing heavily. ‘Ah, I’m sorry, Max. But no – not steroids, exactly. I did some research. With some friends online. Other biology academics into weightlifting. I was looking for short cuts, and they were looking for ways to build size and strength. I think between us we tapped into something that did both. Workouts combined with certain hormones and particular herbs. It’s all perfectly safe, just a few side-effects.’ ‘Like the anger management issues,’ I suggested. ‘And all this fur.’ I ran a hand through the pelt on his monstrous chest. ‘You really are becoming a beast.’ ‘Fuck!’ he gasped. ‘You touched it! I should have warned you – but I thought it would sound gay.’ ‘Touched what?’ I snatched my hand away but he caught it in a giant fist. ‘You touched my nipple. Fucking sensitive nowadays.’ ‘So what – what does that mean?’ ‘It means,’ he said, ‘either I need to fuck a woman in the next ten minutes or…’ ‘Or what?’ Harry looked toward the changing room door. ‘Or, old friend, you’ll have to milk the cum from my big swinging balls…’ TO BE CONTINUED…
  3. Motobrostud

    worship Just a piece of a fantasy

    I’ve never posted any writings. I usually keep it private between a guy I’m fantasizing with. Mostly cause it’s personal worship passion that I’m writing with someone else and we just keep the story going between our personal chats. But this one in particular I find really hot and wondered what anyone else might think. There’s about 300 passages prior to this one so it’s literally right in the middle of us getting to know each other but I don’t think it needs a preface. Just use your imagination like I have.... ....I immediately scurry to my knees, place my hands on your round, rippled rock hard shoulders, with all the strength I can muster I lift myself on to you , wrap my legs around your hips and hold myself up on your massive frame. Not once did you waver not once did you move, you stand like a man made of titanium, the smirk on your lips tells me you don’t even feel the weight I’ve just put on you. My dick is hard, standing like a tower between our ripped abs. Oozing precum which hasn’t stopped since we left the gym. *I think back to when you drove us home, as I watch you shift the gears and the ripples in your forearm and the way your hands have made impressions in the steering wheel that is no longer round, the strength you now possess. When my precum started to flow again, feeling my shorts getting wet with precum* You see the glazed look in my eyes, wrap your hands around my waist touching your thumbs in the front and your fingers in the back, pluck me from your body, like a peach from a tree, and throw me across the room to wake me from my memory. I realize what I’ve done and crawl my way back to you. I grab your right thigh and massage it to the best of my ability, my fingers can’t even dent your skin and you’re completely relaxed. I fill my hand with precum and rub it on your skin. Using my fingers to get into the crevice your muscles make on your legs. I stroke your hamstrings which bulge so far out it stretches the pecs I had just worked earlier. I begin to lick your thigh cleaning all my juice from it. I look up just momentarily and you smack my head down and tell me to concentrate on my work and I do. I love how you manhandle me so much that I think of looking up again but then I’d be taken away from my Bulls body so I continue working. I do the same to the other leg. Kissing and licking it, rubbing it with my juice then cleaning it. I kneel behind you, fill both my hands with my precum and start working both your glutes. One butt cheek is wider than my hand. I can engulf a basketball in my hand and reduce it to nothing but I cannot dent your skin here either. Your enormous. Your skin is hot almost too hot but I will not take my hand away. Touching you is worth all the pain. I lick your ass every inch that my tongue can find. I spread your cheeks hoping to find your sweet hole, I bury my face deeper searching and just as I find it there’s a sudden ripple I feel in your cheeks where my hands lay and I’ve found your sweet spot. I spit on your hole and lick it like my life depends on it. No fingers, you wouldn’t allow that but I do everything I can think of with my tongue to feel you shudder at the ecstasy I can give you. I reach around to your front and stroke your giant cock, my hand can almost encompass. You’re also precumming. I lick my hand clean of my own precum and soak it with yours. Stroking your cock with only your alpha preseed, at the same time as I’m stroking your cock I can almost reach your enormous swollen balls with my other hand. I push my face deeper hoping to be able to create enough length to reach your balls but it’s not enough. You’re just too big. I stroke your dick once more than release and continue worshipping what I can from behind. I practically eat my hand trying to savor all your precum from my hand but even your precum absorbs into my skin too quickly. I feel my hand on fire from the alpha seed entering my blood stream and I feel stronger just for a moment as my insides fight to get as much of your seed as it can feed on. I soak my hands in more of my precum and soak your back in as much as I can but your so massive I need 3 or 4 handfuls to get it to cover your back. As I work your muscles I see you slowly put your hands at your waist and preemptively get more precum as I do I see your back getting wider the rest of the room disappears as your lats spread wider and wider. I continue slathering precum on your back 10, 14, 22 handfuls to cover your back. I work meticulously as I hear your grumbling laughter. You’re soaked in my precum but it doesn’t drip it stays put. There’s just enough to cover your back. Prolly a gallon of precum and it’s just enough to cover your back. As I begin to lick it off you I reach around to the front and my hands can feel your belly button but as I raise my hands up your trunk I no longer can touch my hands. I get to your chest and am grateful I can still reach each nipple with each hand but just barely. I need to grow more. I get more precum from my dick which is bouncing in excitement spurting precum all over your strong clean legs. I place my finger tips on your nipples and squeeze, tease and pinch them. I hear your grumble which shakes me to my core as I’m wrapping myself around you. You groan n your head lifts. My dick is so excited it rises in between your thighs till it’s blocked by your enormous balls. It just bounces off your huge nuts which now makes your cock rise and fall. As your cock meets mine I feel it like a steel girder, it hurts but it hurts so good. And though I cant see it I know somewhere our precum is mixing making my growth serum. I bring my hands back to your shoulders and again lift my body onto yours so I can reach your traps with my tongue. I’m off the floor a good 4 feet at your hips. I reach one arm under your armpit to your chest and the other over your shoulder around your throat. I kiss and worship you shoulders and traps. Licking everywhere I can reach nibbling with my teeth not even leaving a mark cause nothing can mar your skin, not even a knife. Many have died trying. You raise your arms and I start to lick and kiss them. I do everything I can to slather the both but there’s so much space to cover and if I let go I’ll fall and if I grab for more precum I will also fall so I continue licking you and kissing the best I can, for you are my Alpha Muscle God. My Bull. Your arms begin to bend your biceps relaxed are the size of mine flexed but as your arm bends it grows. Your toying with me you’re just bending your arm not even flexing yet. It looks as though you’re doing a most muscular but your right hand is reaching towards the back of your neck, but then I feel your hand encompassing my head, I frantically think of what I’ve missed in a split second your hand reaches around my throat and I am removed from your back and held in mid air staring at the opposite wall in just your one hand. You bend your arm and place me on your chest, where I cling to you like a magnet. I feel your enormous Bull cock between my ass cheeks and it’s slippery. I place my shins on your hips and kneel there, you look at your bicep as do I and we watch it. Your arm is bent but hasn’t started flexing I feel it I put my hand on top of the peak cause it’s too big for my hand any other way. It’s hot, burning I squeeze it and it almost feels as it will give and then it starts to harden. I feel a rise in my body temperature as your arm hardens. The tricep underneath gets ridged I see all the fibers start to crystallize under your skin. Your bicep is getting harder and rises higher towards your fist. Your fist alone is the size of my head, your bicep continues to harden and rise, I try to look at you but the grip on my throat keeps my face glued to your arm. Like a lightning bolt throughout my entire body, my dick shoots it’s enormous wad, spattering the wall behind you, my gallons of cum, cover the wall, the chest of drawers and the pictures on the wall. Finally the fibers harden and your bicep is fully grown, hard as a rock and my hand is feeling the muscle of my titan God. My body weakens as I slip a little. You release my throat my eyes cannot move. I’ve slipped off your body but I’m hanging from you like a monkey in a tree, a grand tree, as I swing, you stand holding your pose, you don’t budge you again don’t sway. Respectfully I ask if I can measure it, you nod with a grumble that not only shakes me but the pictures on the wall, that fall doused in my cum. I swiftly disengage my kneeling on you and scurry to your gym bag and find your tape. I come back head bowed reach up but I cannot reach so you crunch your abs, the brick wall of your core till your bicep is in my direct eye line. I wrap the tape around your arm pull out more tape cause there’s not enough slack at 30” like before. I press the release on the tape measure and the slack get sucked into the box and I reposition it at the widest part and we both gasp in your new size 31.75”. Your muscles have grown?! Your laughter fills the room, the windows shake from the reverberation of your throat. Ripples appear in the cum soaked wall as droplets drip to the wood floor and splatter in all directions. You grab my traps and push me to the floor and then you grab my head standing erect but still flexing your arm and place my face directly in front of your colossus dick then as you release my head you strike a double bicep pose. As you do I attack your cock with whatever I can. I stroke you with both my hands, I ravenously suck your head and as much as I can fit in my mouth. I suck you deeper and deeper til I’m gagging on all I can handle, you’re 7” inches into my mouth and throat, but it’s not enough I want more. I squeeze with both my hands wrapped around the base of your cock and your dick pumps full of blood and I get 2 more inches in, my eyes are watering, I feel my nose dripping. My throat is full of your cock but it’s still not enough. I want all of you in me more than I can handle. I want it all. I stroke your cock as I’ve noticed your standing with your massive arms folded with a smirk on your face. Knowing if I can’t get all your cock in me then you’ll do it for me but I can do it Bull. I can do it all. I stroke your cock till it’s hard as a steel pipe I grab your nuts pulling them down and back till your cock is aiming straight at my throat. I open as wide as I can and like a high speed train into a tunnel I gouge my throat with your enormous cock, I gag and I choke but it’s worth it I continue pushing my face forward hitting and blasting through every barrier my throat has, then it happens. I feel my nose hit solidly on your pelvic bone. I hold for a second then with a will only I can produce I rock forwards and backwards stroking your massive cock with my throat. I feel your hands on the back of my head but you don’t have to push me more. You’re cradling my head in your hands. My proud Bull. I continue stroking. Pulling and massaging your nuts, then reaching up and feeling your gargantuan chest. Taking handfuls of pecs. I begin to feel your dick swelling, I go back to massaging your balls, the tension on my neck grows I can feel your hands holding my mouth in place your filling my insides with precum, you’re beginning to thump my throat with your your growing cock. Tears of adoration streaming down my face I look up to your eyes and see a smile but a meniacle smile widening on your face. But your eyes are soft, you’re proud of your submissive beast. The man that gave you your new found power. The ultimate worshipper. Our eyes lock in a passionate gaze. Your cock begins to pulse and pump then I feel great pressure on my throat as it widens to accept all of you, I can feel the head of your cock underneath my sternum swelling and getting ridged and harder then I feel it your dick is pounding my esophagus and stomach with your plentiful seed. I feel my belly distending, filling with my Bulls monstrous seed. Being planted deep within me. Slowly you begin to pull your cock from my throat, it feels like your cock is peeling the inside of my throat inside out the further to my lips as it gets. But its alright. I love the feeling. My God cannot hurt me but I love the feeling you give me. As your dick is released from the confines of my throat, my God lifts me up, I cling to your chest and kiss you, I can feel your body jolting each time a jet of cum sprays from your cock. I love you more everyday is what my kiss says. You’re kissing me like you haven’t before, it’s soft but strong, it’s kind but powerful, it’s careful but encompassing. You hold me not like a submissive but a lover. I stroke your hair through it’s sweaty natural curves I feel your back hard and hot. You turn around and sit on the bed, you lay outstretched, me on top of you, I lift myself up, place a knee next to your sides. I kiss your chest and worship you. You’re rubbing my arms, small compared to yours but big compared to all else. I feel your cock on my ass bouncing between my cheeks. I flatten my body onto yours and hug you under your armpits, knowing if I hold on above your armpits you’ll pound me off your cock n I want you deep in me for as long as you’ll allow. I can feel your fingers gripping the sides of my hole opening me and stretching me. Your cock is hard still but precumming, I can feel I’m open wide your fingers can slide in n out if me but the friction is giving me full body chills, it tickles but makes my toes curls. I grab onto whatever I can. I reach up under your arms and latch onto your shoulders and squeeze with my knees like riding a horse. I feel your cock pushing on my hole. Pounding me to open up for you, then like a rubber band my hole snaps open as you drive your enormous cock inside of me I feel every inch being rammed into my hole. In my mind all I can think is how much I love my Bull, my MuscleGod. The worlds Alpha. My Man.
  4. Travis

    Invictus

    This is perhaps a monologue, or short play with one speaking part and others nonspeaking, rather than a story, so I hope it's not out of place. It was inspired by a work by the artist MSSF, which is at the end. i INVICTUS: or, The Captive Aside, to himself: My mind is mine and never will be his. Then, speaking aloud: I am your captive. My life and my body are yours. Beat me. Torture me. But enslave me not, nor keep me idle in a dungeon deep. Hasten my life to its end. Make of me with knives your complete sacrifice. Again to himself: Thus will my last moments pass quietly in my mind, for I will know that my end comes soon. When it does, I will have freedom, freedom from this mortal body which he defeated in battle, freedom from the shame of defeat before my warriors, my men, my sons. Aloud: Yet with your knives, take special care before you stab and slice my mortal flesh. Make sharp your sweet steel and as you carve and sever keep fresh your blades that you may cleanly cut and my blood may quickly flow. Limit not the artifice of your craft, but fulsomely display your handwork. Create thus a pleasing sight for your eyes, but not for your eyes only. A worthy deed well done must be seen. Issue a summons. Bring forth your high priest and his acolytes. Call forth your sons who must with their own true eyes bear witness that they may know, not by the poetizing of your scribe, but by their own beholding, the savage beauty as their father draws death from life and my unworthy body, flayed and bled, expires to a corpse. Again to himself: His look is fierce and keen, but still unquenched. And now aloud: I see and all here now assembled see your risen cock, and mine. Your manhood rises in triumph. Mine rises to honor your victory. Yet among the assembled, whisperers pass judgment that your captive flaunts his member in defiance. To quell them, command my final ejaculation. Order a show. For in my tribe, as high priests and consuls attest, the jizzum of their warrior-prince possesses potent magic. Nothing in alchemy surpasses it. Indeed, my very sons have supped on it, that they may be strong and valorous. To honor your manhood, command the last surge of my seed. From my risen cock, engender a fountain of virility. Provoke my testicles in their sack. Rouse my idle semen and incite my hoary balls to issue yet more sperm, as you do, and pull and stretch my scrotum, and slice it off. Take with it those two jewels which men so admire and praise. That kind action of yours will make my manhood prouder still, and in its pride, it will bring forth for you my rapturous final ejaculation. No further touch will be necessary. But have your chest ready that my unctuous jizzum may splurge there as my tribute. And have your sons at hand that they may lap at your nips, not as pups, but as men. For in my seed, there is that powerful magic of which I spoke, and which will make them brave and strong. Thus will they make battle victorious against my own sons, for your sons will have the power of your seed and my seed against my puny sons who have but the power of their own father’s seed. Sotto voce, and turning his head slightly: Scribe, if you hear this tale, write it as I tell it. But know yourself, and in confidence tell two or three wise poets, that my conquerer is a gullible and foolish man who puts faith in such magical potions and tall tales as educated men long ago put aside. I know his weakness in this, as in blood and in lust. Thus, even in defeat, I prevail over him, and in this way, abrupt and savage, I make a quick end for myself. Aloud again: When I have thus anointed you, then slice again. Slice off my shaft, which even then will stand erect in your honor. Display my defeat. My cock is your scepter. Then vanquish me as you and your sons, splurge your cum on your bloody trophies. The deeds being done, the captive dies. art by MSSF
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