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This story is violent and involves someone forcing themselves on another person, so don't read if that bothers you. Hey yall, this is the first ever thing I've written. I've been a long, long, long time lurker/reader and on a whim decided to give writing a shot. This was made with stories like Tony vs. Superman in mind, where iconic heroes get taken down easily. This story is the first of a series of Marvel stories I've been working on following one character, if people like it maybe I'll work through the other drafts and share them as well. ------------------------------------------------------------- Steve Rogers pulled his mask over his head and double checked himself in the mirror to make sure it was on straight. He was America’s champion and there should be no fault in his appearance, no line, no crease, no part out of place. His military mentality never left him, and it showed in his stature. Even though this was just a routine patrol on Manhattan’s Upper East side, he didn’t stray from his routine even slightly. Confident everything was in order Steve walked over to his pride and joy resting on the mantle beside the empty display where his costume would normally rest. Where Thor had his hammer, and Iron Man had his armor, Steve had his shield. It was a beacon of hope, strength, and resolve for the downtrodden. He picked up and latched onto the straps along his back and headed out to the basement level of Avengers Tower where he’d find his motorcycle to head out on. Not that he needed a vehicle, he could easily outrun it with his mammoth legs fueled by the serum in his veins. Truth be told, he simply enjoyed the feeling of riding it. It was already past nightfall, and as he zoomed down the streets glancing down alleyways and side streets as he passed he could hear the occasional cheer from fans and supporters as they zipped by. He was their hero and he would also fight for them. He allowed himself a small smirk in pride, only to be immediately distracted by a distant scream. Someone needed his help. The voice came from over a block away, but his trained sense of superhuman hearing left it ringing clear in his ears, even over the rumbling of his bike. It was definitely a masculine voice in distress. Sure enough, as he approached he could hear the sound of a man pleading for his life along one of the nearby alleyways. As he parked his bike around the corner he nearly flew off of it in the same moment entering the alley in the blink of an eye. In front of him there was a man being held off his feet by a much larger man in a black hoodie. Steve couldn’t make out much in the darkness, but the man was well over 6 feet and seemed quite built for his height. The smaller man was trying desperately to kick himself free from the man’s grip with his dangling feet, but he was clearly outmatched and stood no chance. Steve didn’t let a moment go to waste and called out to the man. “I think you should let him go,” he said, making sure to make it clear that what waited behind the man was no joke through his tone. The man didn’t move, he continued to hold the smaller in the air with one arm, an impressive display of strength, Steve realized, for a typical man. This man clearly worked hard on his strength. “Son, I said to put him down. I will not give you another warning, do not make me use force.” Steve said. To Steve’s surprise the man chuckled, the movement caused the man in his hands to shake violently just from the small movement. “Please, and what exactly are you going to do?” The man said, not even turning around to acknowledge the presence behind him. Steve tensed, he knew a fight was coming. ”I don’t think you realize who you are dealing with. If I must, I will put you down.” Steve said. The bigger man let out a small sigh, but instead of putting the other man down he moved his arm to the wall beside him, pinning the man in his hand. The smaller man let out gasp as the air flew out of his lungs for a moment from the force of the large hand pressed against his chest. It was an incredible display of strength, to not just pin a man with one arm, but move him entirely. Though smaller than them both, the man in his grip had to have weighed nearly 200 lbs. “I have an idea of who I’m dealing with,” the man in the hoodie said, still effortlessly holding the smaller man against the wall, “but I don’t think you know who you’re dealing with.” This was going nowhere, so Steve stepped toward the two. He thought of the need to bring out his shield, but given that this man was likely just human it wouldn’t be needed. He walked up to the back of the larger man, realizing now that the man was only a little shorter than his 6’5” height, but his back was nearly as wide as his own. If it was all muscle under that hoodie, the man must have sported an impressive physique. But Steve had both his superhuman strength, and his training to back him up. The average street villain stood no chance. Allowing one last chance for the thug before him to back down, Steve simply put a grip on the man’s shoulder, the one still holding the man up without any sign of strain. As he squeezed, he could feel the muscles tensed and flexed under his hand. The shoulder was as hard as steel, and even through the hoodie Steve could feel the heads of the man’s massive delt pressing against his grip. This thug was definitely hiding a lot under there. “If this is how it’s going to be, then I will just have to teach you a lesson. Can’t say I didn’t give you a sporting chance.” Steve said, allowing one final moment for things to go a better way. The large continued to hold still. Allowing his adrenaline to surge, Steve prepared to move fast and hard, tightening the grip on the man’s shoulder to pull him away from the smaller man and quickly down to the ground. His arm exploded in an undeniably stunning display of size and power, his battle hardened biceps nearly ripping out of his suit. He made a point not to try too hard, he certainly didn’t want to rip the man’s arm out. But the large man barely moved. His weight shifted from the force, but he never lost his balance. Under his hand Steve felt the man’s delt explode in response, nearly breaking his grip in the process. This man was strong, but he had faced plenty of strong foes before. He moved to wrap his arms around the man, barely able to get around the massive lats to pull the man into a suplex. Steve’s mighty pecs pressing into the thug’s lats in a secondary battle of muscle against muscle. Steve flexed them hard as poured his strength into the move, his suit tightening under the strain of his meaty chest expanding under it. Again the thug barely moved. This time the force was enough to cause him to stumble backward and nearly lose his pin on the man against the wall, but the thug quickly regained his footing. His lats tensed and flared in response, catching Steve off guard and nearly breaking his hold around the man’s torso, but Steve managed to hold on, sweat dampening the inside of his mask. The thug let out a long sigh, the movement nearly made Steve fall into the man as he exhaled. However it seemed Steve had prevailed as the thug released the smaller man, causing him to fall to the ground nearly face planting onto the concrete. “Guess I gotta make an effort here, since you won’t just let me be.” Despite the shock, the small man stuttered out a small thank you to Steve and skittered away. As the man hurried down the alley, the thug rolled back shoulders against Steve’s arms, the movement causing the rock hard muscles in his back to flex against Steve pecs. To Steve’s shock he quickly lost his grip on the thug, unable to pin down the expanding muscle in his arms. Steve took a step back to ready himself. The thug turned around, giving Steve the first look of his face under the hood. The man was younger, likely in his late 20s. His jaw was chiseled and square and sported a line of hair along his chin and a thin mustache, not enough to make for a full goatee. His eyes were dark, and as they focused in on Steve he caught a glimpse of shock in them. Perhaps this thug had finally seen the error of his ways. But the shock was replaced with a grin as the thug chuckled. “Fuck! I was hoping it was you, Captain fucking America,” the thug said, “Damn, looks like wishes can come true. I’ve been hoping to put myself to the test. You can only go so far setting record after record in the weightroom. I needed a real challenge.” The thug pulled down his hood and gave Steve a once over with his eyes. Steve had already regained his composure and of course made sure to give the thug a stunning display of his physique, hoping to dissuade the man from further conflict. But the man nearly doubled over in laughter in response. “Holy fuck, Cap, you might be big, but if that was the kinda power you have behind those muscles, you ain’t shit.” The thug stepped closer to Steve, his pecs nearly coming in contact. Cap’s entire world was eclipsed by the sheer size of the man before him, but Steve didn’t drop his stance. “Oh right, it’s obvious who you are, but you don’t know me. I’m not anyone really, don’t worry, just call me CJ.” CJ? Steve had never heard of any villain street level or otherwise that went by this name, surely this just wasn’t a normal man. There’s no way someone with his strength couldn’t either be empowered, or gifted much like Steve was. “Look, I don’t care who you are, son, but I can’t leave you here causing harm. I’m going to have to take you in.” Steve said. CJ let out another chuckle, “Alright Captain Weakshit, if you think you’ve got it in you, but let me give you a better idea of what you’re up against.” Steve took a step back as the man moved to unzip his hoodie. He immediately noted the chiseled upper chest that revealed itself, a light layer of chest hair poking through the shirt underneath. CJ seemed to struggle getting the jacket off, but managed without ripping it. He sported a thin green tank top, stretched as thin as paper against his skin. CJ was massive, his pecs bulged through the fabric nearly ready to rip it to shreds, Steve could make out the veins snaking down the large man’s neck and down his chest through it. A thin tattoo Steve couldn’t quite make out was along the man’s right pec. Alongside his chest, CJ’s arms rippled with power and were no less shredded. A large bulging vein ran across each bicep, looking as if they’d jump out of his skin. Steve also got a good look at the man’s shoulders and realized he wasn’t wrong about them. CJ sported boulders for delts and even at rest Steve could make out striations and a roadmap of veins. Steve nearly lost himself in the stunning display of muscle before him, CJ was not just huge, he was incredibly lean, no wonder he packed so much strength under that physique. Steve let out a small smirk, “look, you’re clearly a big man. I applaud you for your training, but I’ve taken down plenty of big foes. This won’t be a challenge.” Steve said in an effort to pump up his own confidence, but somehow he felt an ounce of envy at the other man’s imposing display of muscle. CJ smiled, a look which sent a shock down Steve’s spine. CJ was handsome and every bit a fine specimen of a man. Steve was straight, but there was no denying what was before him. CJ’s voice invaded his thoughts, “Fuck man, I am going to enjoying breaking you. Somehow, I know you will too in the end.” CJ chuckled and tossed his hoodie aside. Before it even hit the ground CJ unleashed a punch right at Steve’s gut. The movement was so fast that Steve nearly didn’t have a chance to react, managing to twist his torso enough to dodge the blow, CJ’s fist glancing against his suit. But before Steve could take advantage of the miss, CJ had already found his footing and came back with another swing, this time at Steve’s chest. There was no time to dodge this one, and the fist slammed into Steve’s chest like a freight train. It knocked Steve completely off his feet and he fell back against the concrete, skidding. Pain shot through the right side of his chest, how did a punch like that hurt so much? Steve threw himself back onto his feet in a kick up, already readying his stance to fight back when he was stopped at the sight of CJ simply standing there, both of his arms raised beside his head in a double bicep pose. Each bicep rose to a peak that looked like they could cut diamonds between each well defined head. Veins rippled across each arm in a stunning display of power. Steve guessed CJ’s arms to be well over 20” without an ounce of fat on them. Almost as big as his own. And yet, he had knocked him down with a single punch, perhaps he simply wasn’t ready for it. But the sight before him made Steve doubt himself. “You couldn’t even take one punch from these Cap,” CJ said, “I seriously thought this was going to be a challenge to test all the work I’ve put this body through, but you’re just a weak little shit.” Steve didn’t know how to respond, how could this man be so cocky? He was Steve Rogers, Captain fucking America. “Fuck it dude,” CJ said while still holding the pose, “come at me with all you got, try to break this.” Steve questioned whether CJ’s biceps grew larger after the taunt, but it had to have been his imagination, they had to have been fully flexed. “I don’t know who you are, but to think you can best an Avenger will have you leaving here sorely mistaken.” Steve shot back, regaining his confidence. Steve charged at CJ, who still was holding his mighty arms up high. As he reached the beast before him, Steve channeled the entire force of his body into one massive punch at CJ’s abs. Steve’s quads exploded as they braced for the blow, flaring so hard he heard the seams of his leggings let out a slight rip as they gave way. His eyes honed in on the target, and just before his fist landed he saw 8 bricks of muscle wall up through the green fabric of CJ’s tank top. A flicker of doubt flashed in Steve’s mind. His punch slammed into CJ so hard it Steve thought he might punch a hole through the man, but as his fist hit CJ’s wall of muscle pain immediately flooded his arm. CJ didn’t move an inch, and the entire force of the blow rebounded back, nearly shattering the bones in Steve’s fist and arm, saved only by the density of his superhuman skeleton thanks to the serum. Steve doubled over from the pain almost immediately, letting out a chilling scream, nearly falling back again on his ass. Steve could feel his arm going numb as the pain subsided, and he realized he was kneeling on one knee right in front of CJ, his face right at the big man’s abdomen. His eyes widened as he saw that he hadn’t even left a mark. CJ’s abs were still tightly flexed in a display of triumph. Steve looked up to see CJ staring down at him, his arms still held high, maintaining his double bicep pose. The sight of the manbeast before him made Steve feel tiny. CJ flashed another handsome smile down at Steve. “You better get used to being down there. That’s where you belong, you know?” CJ laughed, causing his abs to relax and bringing Steve’s gaze back to them. “The look on your face man, I wish I could frame it. Captain America brought to his knees and I didn’t even lay a finger on you. I bet you’re dying to see what stopped you cold.” CJ lifted up the bottom of his tank top with both hands, slowly bringing into view the wall of muscle that had nearly shattered the hero’s arm. Steve’s vision was filled with CJ’s abs of steel, each muscle a well defined brick. A light layer of black hair ran down the middle and across his lower abdominals, trailing down into CJ’s pants. They made his abs appear even more defined. Then CJ flexed. Steve's jaw nearly hit the floor as the muscles in front of his face exploded, he didn’t even realize abs could explode. What was a well defined 8 pack was now 10 boulders of harder than steel tight muscle. Veins popped out along the side and down CJ’s lower abs, again pulling Steve gaze downward. CJ noticed and began twisting and flexing his torso to show off his obliques, pulling Steve’s gaze back up. Every inch of him was perfectly cut as if chiseled from stone. CJ could rival even the mighty Thor in a battle of physiques. Instead of lowering his shirt back down, CJ ripped it half, shredded it like tissue and finally unveiled his entire upper body. All that was left was a tiny gold chain across his neck, looking as if it would snap at any slight movement. “Dear God…” was all Steve could muster as he took in the beast towering above him. “Not a god man,” CJ said, “but I guess to a weak fuck like you I might as well be.” The cockiness in CJ’s voice woke Steve from his fog and he shook his head. Perhaps he would need to call backup for this one. CJ was clearly some sort of otherworldly threat that he would need the rest of the team to handle. Steve readied himself for a sprint off the ground, deciding to retreat back to his bike and seek allies, but before he could even raise himself off the ground CJ slammed his knee right into the hero’s face. The movement was so sudden Steve hadn’t seen it coming and was immediately flown onto his back a few feet away from the blow. He slammed back down on the ground and his vision filled with stars. “You don’t get to walk away from this. I’m not done with you.” CJ said. CJ stepped over the dazed hero below him and wrapped his hand around Steve’s neck. The hero was still trying to process what had happened when he felt himself being lifted off the ground. CJ was picking him up with just one arm… exactly as he had done to the small man before. As the realization set in Steve felt his feet dangling off the ground as he was held above CJ. Steve tried to toss quick, strong blows wherever he could, CJ’s neck, his pecs, the forearm gripping his neck, but nothing seemed to phase the big man. He then grabbed onto CJ’s arm, trying in vain to pry himself out, but instead finding himself getting lost in the man’s titanic arm, hard and immovable under his hands. CJ laughed at the feeble attempts by Steve to free himself and with his free hand CJ pulled off Steve’s mask, revealing the face of the blue eyed blonde underneath. CJ took in the look on Steve’s face, blood now running down his chin from the blow he just gave him. The hero was in a mix of shock, confusion, and fear. It was time to completely break whatever was left. CJ brought Steve closer, still being dangled in the air as if a little kid and leaned into his ear. CJ’s warm breath washed over Steve’s face and his nose was filled with the scent of the man’s musk. “I really am not a god, or an alien, or even a supersoldier. I’m just a guy who’s been putting himself through hell to become the best of the best.” CJ let out another chuckle. “Actually, you’re gonna get a kick from this one. How old are you again? 35? 40? Oh right, you’re the man out of time… so what 100 or some shit? Well Cap, I hate to say it, but you just got embarrassed by a…..” Steve didn’t even get a chance to process what hit him. It flooded his mind and the realization was instant. The man who was effortlessly holding like a ragdoll wasn’t a man, but a kid. Not even out of high school. 18 years old, the words hitting him again. “Fuck! There’s that look again, you’re so fucking stunned. We didn’t even get to fight and I can see I did a number on you!” CJ lowered Steve back down to the ground, stopping only to put his hand back on the hero’s shoulder. Again, with an effortless display of power the young man forced Steve back to his knees, the hero still stunned over being bested by a teen. CJ was as big as his supersoldier physique, just as shredded and ripped, and yet somehow Steve’s strength wasn’t even an ounce of the young adonis’. Talk about winning the gene lottery. He was Captain America. He trained his body over decades and was powered by a steroid that gave him size and strength that rivaled gods. Yet CJ had already surpassed him, and at such an age. He couldn’t fathom how such a possibility could even occur. Steve was so lost in thought that he hadn’t realized that CJ no longer had a hold on him. He wasn’t brought back to Earth until he noticed CJ had begun unfastening the button of his jeans. CJ pulled down his pants with a struggle over his mammoth quads, allowing them to rest at his knees. He hadn’t left his underwear on. A million more thoughts flooded Steve’s mind. His brain was trying to process everything happening to him. The wave of testosterone-fueled scent of CJ that pummeled his senses. the massive mounds of flesh that made up CJ’s incredible quads, so big they would easily dwarf the hero’s own impressive trunks. And snaking with ropes of throbbing veins barely masked by the thick black hair all over them. The thought of why Steve hadn’t fled already, why was he still on his knees in front of this young man? Lastly, the sight of CJ’s manhood filled his brain. Steve prided himself in being the peak of humanity, in every sense. But CJ sported a cock as big as his own, yet he could tell it was still soft. 10 inches of muscle meat swung before his eyes, crowned with a thin bush of dark hair. He finally got to see just where CJ’s treasure trail went. CJ admired the hero’s stunned face below him. Steve was speechless and like a deer in headlights. CJ rewarded the man by repeatedly flexing his quads, watching how the hero’s eyes would widen each time his huge tear drops of muscles seem to blow up to twice the size and the striations cut through the skin. The sight caused blood to fill his swaying monster cock, its size growing to a similarly impressive display. As his cock nearly reached its full length the head grazed against Steve’s lips and up his nose until finally reaching its full mast in a stunning display of perfect manhood. The throbbing cock filled Steve’s vision as it bounced up and down. “Captain America, look at what you’ve done to me, holy shit.” CJ let out a laugh. “One punch from this arm knocked you on your ass.” CJ flexed his arm not even looking to see if Steve was watching, he was in awe of his own size as he watched his arm. “These lats and pecs broke your grip without even a sweat” CJ moved to flaring out his lats and causing his pecs to explode below him, completely blocking out the view of the defeated hero under them. He wished he could take a picture of the display just to witness how impressive it was. “One hit to these abs nearly shattered your arm.” CJ looked down at his abs as he flexed them again. Running his hands down them, feeling the power and strength held behind the wall of muscle. Past them all he could see that his massive cock was throbbing, still inches above the face of the fallen hero below him. It filled CJ with pleasure and caused his cock to send out a huge glob of precum as he flexed his muscle cock. “And one hit from this leg showed you that you are nothing compared to me.” CJ focused on his right quad, again admiring the way it seemed to defy reality as he repeatedly flexed it. The whole time it caused his cock to bounce and throb, he could feel it hitting Steve’s face again and again as he flexed. In CJ’s mind he began to wonder if he really was a god. He defeated one of the most well known and beloved heroes without even trying. As CJ turned back to the dazed hero the sight made him chuckle again. Steve’s jaw was open and his face was now covered in the young god’s precum, another drop had just landed on the hero’s nose, oozing down Steve’s lips. Before the hero could get a taste of the god before him, CJ thrusted his hips forward, placing the head of a massive cock on top of Steve’s face. He flexed his cock again causing a massive stream of precum to land right in the hero’s eye. The hero began to flinch but was stopped by two hands behind his head holding him in place. CJ began to thrust his cock up and down and grind his cock against the hero. The force of which would have caused Steve’s head to bobble up and down if he hadn’t been held in place by CJ’s strong hands, the muscle teen’s balls repeatedly smacking against his chin. There was nothing the hero could do at this point. Steve even attempted to use his strength to stand up in hopes of an escape, but as he tensed he could feel the strength of CJ against him and knew it wasn’t worth the risk of hurting himself fighting against the young god. Instead he gave into his other desires and began running his tongue up and down the stud’s massive shaft pressed against his face. CJ immediately let out a moan and pulled the hero from his cock. “That’s right Cap, you know your place. I’m the fucking future of the human race, you are nothing compared to me. I could snap your neck right now if I wanted, but I won’t just so you can have the opportunity to worship the man you always wished you could be.” “CJ FUCKING Stedman” CJ screamed, it shocked Steve how it came out of nowhere. “Remember my fucking name, CJ Stedman is the one who broke Captain America.” Before the beaten hero could fathom what was happening CJ shoved his entire cock down the hero’s throat. The force and speed shocked Steve’s system as his jaw nearly snapped from being stretched to its limit. Tears ran down his face from the pain. Choking, Steve tried to pull away out of reflex, but CJ’s sheer power kept him in check. CJ was lost in himself and how he had completely ruined one of the world’s bravest heroes. It sent him into overdrive and like a pure animal he started to face fuck the hero with such force he thought it might drive a hole through the man’s skull, but CJ didn’t care. As his balls smacked against Steve’s chin like a jackhammer, all CJ could think about was himself. No other man came close to him. He was everything. Massive. Ripped to shreds. Stronger than anyone. And he was still growing, getting better every day. He was only eighteen and still had so much potential. The world wasn’t ready for CJ Stedman, but they would know him now. CJ was filled with ecstasy as he worshiped himself and it sent him over the edge. His massive muscle cock exploded in the hero’s mouth, his massive load shooting straight into Steve’s stomach. CJ’s cock shot so hard and his cum was so hot it burned the hero’s insides. In his muscle crazed orgasm CJ pulled his cock out of the hero, surprised to see the man still intact, but Steve’s face was covered in blood that poured out his nose. CJ continued to shoot load after load all over Steve’s face leaving almost no inch of it clean. As his cock spewed its final shots, he smacked the hero’s face with it. Smearing the mixture of blood and semen. He then let the hero go and Steve fell to the side, having been completely knocked out by the relentless onslaught to his skull. . CJ looked down as the last drop of his cock fell down onto the unconscious hero. It landed right on the iconic shield still attached to Steve’s suit splattering against it leaving a reddish streak. “Shit, you didn’t even get to use this.” CJ laughed, picking up the shield. “Don’t they say this shit is as unbreakable as you?” CJ smirked, and the rush started to hit him again causing his cock to harden. He ran his finger across the red streak his blood mixed cum left on this shield. Holding it in both hands CJ held it above his head. In one mighty swing he brought Captain America’s shield down on his now rock hard cock, snapping the vibranium infused weapon in half. With a smirk, CJ tossed the pieces onto the fallen hero, his mind already chasing thoughts of his next conquest. “Maybe I am a god, why not go find one and see how I match up?” CJ laughed, pulled up his pants and walked out of the alley. Not even giving the limp body he left behind a second thought.

Hi Everyone. If you haven't already read my Muscleboy story, I'm in the habit of taking people's original characters and writing content for them. @Ultra was kind enough to connect with me and allow me to write a story featuring his own powerful superhero. Join us as Ultra faces down against an alien threat. Will he succeed in defeating this alien force, or will his enemy be triumphant? If you're curious about Ultra's powers and want to know more, you can go here for the original character's information. Additionally, I've added some images below to help visualize Ultra! --- Chapter 1 of Superhero Ultra: Battle for Power They had detected the ‘Planet Killer’ months in advance. A rogue asteroid from the Kupiter belt, it had made its way toward Earth with fears mounting each day. The hunk of rock was greater than a kilometer across, and would decimate life on Earth if the projections were correct. Scientists of course feared the worst, as their technology could do little to move the object from the sky. They needed something that could not only stop the asteroid in its tracks, but shift its trajectory so that it was flung far and away from our planet. ‘Ultra, do you copy?’ A voice rang in Ultra’s head. A drone was tailing him, aiming a frequency at him that Ultra could ‘hear.’ The drone had been specially designed to keep up with his high velocity flight and to record him so they could give advice and make sure all was well with the hero. The perfect physical specimen had been briefed by numerous intelligence agencies and spent months with scientists about his plan of attack and approach. The superhero Ultra was the Earth’s last line of defense against what could mean the end of everything. He had readily agreed, hero that he was, to use all of his ultrapowers to make sure the job was done to save the world. Not that he had much other choice, but the hero had always been the one to step forward when an opportunity presented itself. Ultra, the pink speedo clad hero, was renowned in the skies as a defender of justice and all that was right in the world. His handsome face was frequently splashed across newspapers and websites, and interviews had made him a celebrity the world over. Aside from his heroics, no one could argue that his body was the vision of ultimate physical perfection. At over three hundred pounds of muscle, his flawlessly smooth, finely tanned skin and blond hair gave him a boyish look, full of youthful vigor. His wide back cast a long shadow, his ultrapecs appeared like mountains, and his thick ultraquads earned the envy of all who saw them. Whispers abounded as to how or why his powers had come about - the unofficial story along the lines of a scientific experiment - but Ultra would only explain a devastating accident had nearly killed him, and left him with the power and will to make things right in the world. His green eyes focused on the skies as he speeded upward in the atmosphere. “I hear you Alpha, target is acquired and I’m boosting my way toward it now.” All eyes were on Ultra as he made his way toward the asteroid, now visible in the skyline above. His body was surrounded in a faint pink energy, the same color as the thong sitting between his legs. With a flex, the energy glowed brighter, and his muscled form picked up speed. His ultapower aura shone pink as he zipped through the atmosphere. ‘Roger. Your power levels are stable and you’re gaining the speed you need. You’ll want to keep up the charge until you make contact.’ Even as the hero’s form reached higher and higher into the atmosphere, there was still trepidation in the control room. Other scenarios had been run so that they could be certain they wouldn’t need to use a human life to save the entirety of the world. Firing drones with rocket boosters that could shift the asteroid’s movement. Shooting a number of bombs to break the thing apart so it burned up in the atmosphere. Sending a manned crew to land and burrow drills in to deposit bombs that might break it. But nothing would work well enough or have been built fast enough to do what was needed. Ultra had never considered himself the best student, much less a scientist, but after all the time and energy invested in training him, he felt prepared for the task that lay ahead. As he breached the highest part of the atmosphere, his body was greeted by the cold vacuum of space. He didn’t flinch, his body impervious and unaffected by the freezing cold. He didn’t slow down to bask in the beauty of the vastness, nor did he look back to get a better view of the world that he left behind. He was focused solely on his mission, and the just reward that would likely follow his success. He enjoyed helping others, but he would be a liar if he didn’t admit that he enjoyed appearing on the cover of magazines and as the heart throb to many. When this was over, he could well retire if he wanted (he wouldn’t) and enjoy some of the finer pleasures of life. “Target is in sight. I’ve got it locked in. Should just be a bit longer until contact.” Ultra’s body was encased in the pink energy, his powerful aura, more energy than anyone could ever dream of. It coursed through his veins and across his skin, projecting through the peaks and valleys of his muscles. He saw the magnificent rock hurtling toward earth and its wide expanse as it moved at a quick pace. He would have just one opportunity to truly change its course, otherwise the world that he knew and loved would not be there to celebrate him afterward. He clenched his jaw and sped into the darkness so that he could send this rock on its way. ‘100 miles and closing fast. 90. 80. 70. 50. Get ready for impact, Ultra.' The voice of the scientist flickers in his ear, the tone clipped as he gets further from earth. They didn’t have to tell him how quickly it was approaching, he could well see that for himself! But he did brace, readying his arms as he moved to make contact with the gigantic asteroid. “UUUFFFF…” Ultra sped into the asteroid, and spread his hands as he slammed into the surface. He held tight as debris scattered out around him from impact. He grunted as his 40” biceps flexed against the weight of the object. “I’m… here… guys…going to… start… pushing…” Ultra began to heave his weight into the thing, his pink aura glowing as energy pulsed around him. He heaved his perfect body against it, and pushed and pushed. The drone kept pace a few miles behind Ultra, and beamed another message. ‘The asteroid has slowed but… Ultra, it doesn’t seem to be stopping. You have to try harder. At this rate it may continue on its path…’ The scientist didn’t finish his statement. “I’m not… finished yet… I’m just… getting started!” The hero forced more power outward, the energy blinding now as he felt his muscles flex. His muscles stood on end as he drew the ultrapower into himself, growing his muscles and expanding in size, and soon, he could hear the gasps and cheers filling his ear piece. He was physically pushing the asteroid backward, away from the earth. ‘You’re doing it, Ultra! I can’t believe he’s doing it… okay, now it’s time for us to get to work!’ Through careful calculations and a bit of touch and go, central command guided the fair hero through the steps needed to send the asteroid out of earth’s orbit and on a path toward the sun. People would claim they saw the glowing pink in the night’s sky that filled them with pride as Ultra managed to save the human race once again from an existential threat. His powers on full display, beamed out for the heavens and the galaxy to see as he cleared the skies of any and all threats. He would return once again the hero, to the cheers of many, and the adulation of all. Little would he know that his singular greatest feat to date would register in the farthest reaches of space - his power level so high and charging for so long, that it could be seen by one who had been searching for some time for such a power source. – “What did you think while you were up there? It must’ve been a strange feeling.” A lithe young woman sat across from Ultra as the two were surrounded by cameras. Ultra had spent the past few weeks on all the news broadcasts, late night shows, and celebrations to honor what he’d done. It’d been a bit of an ordeal to say the least, what with his capacity to excite crowds and throw some into a frenzy. There were a bevy of celebrities and fellow heroes alike that patted him on the back, kissed him on the cheek, and offered anything he could’ve ever wanted for what he’d done. Just standing shoulder to shoulder with Ultra had caused some of them to get a little too excited, ready to cream their pants as Ultra showed off his physique. And Ultra hadn’t said no so much as embraced the stardom. His body had been made to perfection, and in the end, it felt as though everything in his life since the accident that gave him his powers was going that way as well. “I’ll tell you, I did what I always do. I concentrated my powers and managed to pull from deep within to conquer that asteroid and send it to the sun.” Ultra crossed and uncrossed his massive legs as the chair he sat upon struggled to continue his hundreds of pounds of muscle. There was hollering from the audience, and some men fell back in their chairs. Women were fanning themselves just at the sight of him. It took everything the host had to keep herself composed. “And I didn’t once stop thinking of all the people that were depending on me.” The late night host giggled as she let the studio audience applaud. She leaned over her table and stared dreamily into Ultra’s green eyes. “Well we’re certainly glad you made it back safe and sound. Man, how depressing would the end of the world have been, huh?” Ultra laughed along with her as he soaked up the limelight. He’d had to get an agent some time ago who now managed all of the business aspects of his rise to fame. His body was quite easily made into an action figure, the year’s hottest toy. Video games were in production over his origin and life story (something he still hadn’t sold the rights to) and someone had even launched a thong line for his superhero briefs so that others could wear them at home or at the beach. “I just call that another day in the superhero business.” Ultra replied to the smiling audience. Some of them were sweating as he watched them, licking their lips at his powerful, perfect body. He adored that, too - the way people from all walks of life seemed to connect with him and want him. They could dream about him, his strength, and his determination as their own. And he would do his best to honor that, for as long as he can and as much as he could. ‘Funny you should say that.’ The talk show host turned to wave away the page that had handed her a stack of paper. ‘Ladies and gentleman, in the last hour, a strange object has entered our solar system and appears to be headed towards earth. Reports suggest it to be a spacecraft of some sort. It seems that we might be calling on you again, Ultra, to investigate.’ Ultra stood from his spot on the couch and put his hands on his hips in a power pose. “Sorry to cut the interview short, but you know, duty calls.” He made his way to the hallway of the studio, and then out onto the lot. His assistant came running with a cell phone. “Central intelligence is on, they’re ready and you’ll hear them in a second,” He was a muscled young man named Xavier who’d been hired to be the hero’s right hand. He was a few inches shorter than Ultra and about seventy pounds less, but still could’ve been mistaken for a man about to step onto stage for a posing routine. “Ultra here. Talk to me.” Ultra held the phone to his ear and hovered in the air above the pavement. “Ultra. General Sykes here. At 1400 hours we spotted an extraterrestrial object that is now on its way toward the earth. All attempts at contact have failed. It appears now to be just outside of the earth’s atmosphere.” As the general spoke, Ultra stared up at the sky. Just after dusk, he could see the faintest outline of the massive starship now holding its position above earth. “We have sent several unmanned drones toward the object, but it used electromagnetic pulses to disable and destroy them. We have not attempted to engage it due to the advanced technology and presumably superior fire power.” “And you’re hoping I might step in and help you out here.” Ultra nodded his head and contemplated what the ominous spaceship could be waiting for. He narrowed his eyes and determined whatever it was, it could not be good. “I can make my approach now and see what it is they do.” “We’ll have our eyes on you and give you any support we can.” The general said. “We’re counting on you, Ultra.” The same drone that had followed him to the asteroid was hovering overhead, camera zooming in on the hero below. It circled overhead, readying its thrusters for the moment that Ultra took flight. The hero gave a nod and sped off into the sky, leaving a trail of pink energy in his wake. His muscular form gleamed in the setting sun as he surged off toward the spaceship, now growing larger across the horizon. It was nearly as long as the asteroid had been, with the same imposing aura. To Ultra, the ship appeared not unlike a metallic zephyr, spherical in shape and with some sort of unknown propulsion system to keep it steady in the earth’s atmosphere. And the smoothness of the surface of the ship and its metallic sheen didn’t give any hints as to its capabilities. That unsettled him more than the threat itself. An alien ship this advanced was bound to have some sort of dangerous weapons. As he made a final approach, Ultra heard a growing hum the closer he got to the alien vessel. Deep vibrations were emanating from the surface of the ship, pulsing through the air as though it were scanning the immediate vicinity. Ultra narrowed his eyes and came to a halt not more than a quarter mile from the ship. He waited, hovering in the air as the hum grew louder. Wisps of cumulonimbus clouds swirled underneath the hero’s imposing physique. The sun shone across his sculpted back and over his boulder shoulders. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he could feel something dark about this ship. They hadn’t dropped into the solar system just to hover in the skies and disappear. It was as though they were waiting for something - or someone. A spot across the hulking ship groaned to life, and the metallic surface shifted to expose a row of artillery shaped cannons outside of the hull. Dozens of them began to pop up across the bow and stern of the ship, slowly coming to life. Ultra tensed as he hovered in the air, his pecs tight as they flexed. Were they set to finally target the earth? Were they planning on launching a horrible blast that could decimate a city, or perhaps shatter mountains and set off earthquakes and volcanoes. [Hero Ultra.] The sound came within his own head, much like the frequency that the drone that followed him protected. Except this was different. A voice that would have made the hair on his back rise, if he had any. It was tinny and metallic. As though its speech was still coming to understand the English language, and pronunciation took precedence over pace. [Do not be alarmed. We have not come to hurt your pathetic planet. The emperor seeks only your submission in exchange for their sovereignty. We detected your energy and the movement of a large celestial object.] “Huh.” Ultra considered for a moment if he had heard correctly. So a bunch of aliens had come to earth looking for him in particular? Of course they had. Everyone seemed to want a piece of Ultra as soon as they discovered who he was, so that part didn’t shock him anymore. Somehow, though, glancing over at the many, many cannons that had emerged from the ship, he didn’t think they were asking nicely. “It sure seems like you don’t intend to really give me a choice in this now do you?” There was a pause and silence. Perhaps they were translating what he’d said to them. Or perhaps they had never received such an answer before. [If you do not submit, the Emperor will make you submit.] The voice’s even tone did not change, though somehow that made Ultra imagine whoever these aliens were as angry and spiraling within their overgrown blimp of a ship. “You know, I don’t really take to threats. How about I tell you that if you don’t get your ship out of our sights I’m going to have to tow it. This is a no parking zone, Mr. Emperor and company.” Ultra crossed his arms across his chest briefly, then struck an intimidating double bicep pose. His thong aura shimmered pink in the sunlight as he flexed. The silence held for some time as he kicked off from between the clouds and slowly spun a few feet further toward the ship. [The emperor has decided to take decisive action. You were warned. Terminating transmission.] The silence that followed was pierced by the whir of the cannons atop the ship. The long shafts of the guns grew red as they powered up their energy weapons. Ultra grinned as he pressed his feet together and began to fly at top speed toward the glowing lights. The first dozen cannons fired, with Ultra bobbing and weaving through the wave of energy blasts. He turned to face the spray of energy and as one blast drew close, he flexed his massive pecs. The energy collided with his chest and was deflected back at top speed toward the ship, slamming into it and obliterating one of the cannons. Ultra surged forward, balling his fists as he swung an arm to knock another set of blasts back toward the ship. He followed this with a swing of his legs to kick an orb of energy back toward the hull. The spray of weapon fire continued, with Ultra flexing his chest, his abs, and even his glutes to deflect the blasts. By the time the last of the cannons stopped, Ultra was already zooming within a few thousand feet of the ship. The drone followed a quarter mile back, slowly surveying the alien vessel. ‘Ultra, we’re detecting movement along the surface. Another high powered energy cannon, or-’ “UFFF!” Ultra ran head first into a blast. Not of energy this time, but of a heavy vibration that surrounded his body and seemed to trap him. He felt as though all of his muscles were being forced to flex at once, as though he was being hit from a thousand different directions. The vibration got deep within his head, making it difficult to focus, and harder for him to fight back. The pitch of the hum seemed to only increase with time as Ultra hovered, his muscles twitching and flexing involuntarily. He had to focus! He had faced plenty of terrible villains with weaponry far advanced than any person should’ve been able to get their hands on. And his powers were nigh on limitless, or so he had always come to find. He needed to center himself. To tap into his aura, from the tip of his toes up through his head. He relaxed even as the vibrations increased, the air around him wobbling from the piercing weapon. His muscles slowed their flexation, and soon, he was hovering within the vibrations, eyes closed, thoughts centered. He held for another moment, basking in the serenity his power had managed to create. His body glowed pink as he focused, and the energy expanded outward. His eyes snapped open and he drew his arms to his side with a flex, revealing his forty inch pythons in their massive size. He squeezed his quads and grunted as he forced his energy outward, and sent the vibrations hurtling back toward the ship. Another explosion rocked the side of the vessel, and soon the vibrations came to a halt. “Getting tired yet?” Ultra drew close to the ship and slapped the metal, sending out a heavy rattle along the edges of the ship. He could do this all day. As advanced as the aliens seemed, their weapons were no match for his ultrapowers. He hadn’t even broken a sweat yet, and they seemed to be running out of things to throw at him. ‘Drones at three o’clock, Ultra.’ From a landing bay at the far side of the ship, three small drone vessels emerged. They sped up toward Ultra, their lasers firing short, powerful blasts. Ultra sped up alongside the ship, dodging and weaving the attacks. He cut upward as they started to gain on him, their engines boosting their speed. As they fired again, Ultra flexed the cords of muscle along his back. He tilted upward, reflecting the fire. Two of the three drones dodged, but one burst into flames and tumbled toward the earth below. The hero flipped over and circled, grinning from ear to ear. “You see that general? They haven’t got anything on me!” Ultra shimmered in his pink aura. The general and those watching couldn’t help but smile at their fair hero. He was unstoppable. His massive frame easily took every punch they had thrown at him, advanced weapons and all. It seemed like easy work for him, and clearly Ultra was enjoying himself. We’ll have to give him something of a hero’s honor on his return, General Sykes imagined. Right up until the view of Ultra on their screens changed to an explosion of red and pink. “ULTRA!” The general called out, the smoke gathering around him. “... direct hit, general,” Ultra’s voice was soft. He floated out of the smoke to the sounds of cheering. He flexed his back and turned toward the ships still roaring toward him. “But just a scratch. I think it’s time I smash these guys to bits!” Ultra whipped around and sped toward the ships to face them head on. He let out a yell as he picked up speed, the aura around him glowing a brighter and brighter pink. As the metallic drones collided with Ultra, his energies sliced the the frames of each vessel in half, with the energy in his wake shattering them to pieces. Another cheer rang out from the control room watching him. Not once, twice, but three different times the aliens had tried to best the hero, and he still remained strong, with no more than a bit of sweat dripping down his chest and abs. ‘We’re picking up on another massive energy source about two thousand feet northward. You should see a dome. There are lifesigns detected.’ The general read out to Ultra as the drone sped behind him. “I’m on it. It’s time to come face to face with the ‘Emperor’ and let him know he’s got to get out of here.” Ultra clenched his fists and turbo charged his aura to hurtle toward the deck of the ship. He powered through the wall to send a shower of metal and sparks scattering across the bridge of the vessel. As he emerged from the hole and stood to survey the crew, he watched as a series of men stood from their seats at various screens and instruments and moved to the center where a massive, muscular man sat. He was the only one that didn’t rise from his chair. His hair was cut different than the others - spiked instead of a severe bowl cut - and he wore what appeared to be a chrome crown atop his head. [So nice of you to join us, Ultra. Have you come to submit, or shall my warriors do the job for me?] He didn’t open his mouth but stared at the hero with a grin. The men around him were the size of bodybuilders, their muscular physiques gripped tight by lycra uniforms to show off their bulging muscles. They readied in fighting stances to face Ultra, some holding their hands at the energy rifles at their hips. “You came all this way for me, Emperor and you’re making everyone else do the dirty work, huh?” Ultra sized up the villain and shook his head. Unlike his underlings, the emperor was dressed in a set of black boots and a black thong, one that rivaled Ultra’s in brevity and tightness. “Why don’t you fight me if you’re not afraid?” [These men have trained to battle you. Their weapons and strength will bring you down easily.] The emperor waved with his palm and the men began to step forward. Ultra gave a shrug and rolled his shoulders. “Allow me to show you some of my other powers.” Ultra moved to put his arms up behind his head and began a deep flex. His aura pulsed as his pecs hung and his eight pack began to show. His muscles seemed to add on pounds of muscle, pushing from his three hundred pound form to four hundred, then five as he grew another foot and added mass to his frame. He turned to his side to give the full expanse of his pec shelf and the bulge hanging tight between his legs. He turned to the opposing side to throw out his quad and give a flex. He moved to face away from them and put his hands on his hips to demonstrate the cords of muscle running from his shoulders and traps, his delts, his middle back, down further along his back to just above his massive glutes. Each of the warriors froze, one by one, as Ultra gave this display of his power. They blinked as though trying to pull the image of this muscular godlike hero from their eyes, only to be drawn further toward him. The lycra between their legs grew tight as their hands dropped to their sides. They were entranced by the hero’s movement, mouths almost hanging open, thoughts drifting away from their minds. They could not resist the way the light hit the space between his ultrapecs, the size of his rippling biceps, or the peaks of his shoulders. His impossibly small waist that stood in contrast to the size of his quads or the expanse of his back. “That’s it boys. You want this, don’t you?” Ultra stood close to them, hands on his hips. His pink aura shone across his skin. He couldn’t help smirk a little as he began to strike pose after pose, each seemingly bigger, harder, hotter than the last. The men dropped to their knees in awe as they began to unzip and stroke themselves. Ultra stood in between them, flexing into a most muscular. Moans filled the air as they brought themselves to cumming, shooting heavy loads at his feet. They collapsed in a pile around him, overwhelmed by his sheer virility and power. He turned away from the Emperor for a moment to survey their bodies, and to give the muscled villain a good view of the thong strap disappearing between his thick, rock-hard glutes. He turned back and dropped the grin from his face. “That’s all it took, Emperor. And now you have the choice to call this expedition off and head out of our solar system. Or… I can put you in a haze you’ll enjoy but hardly remember.” Ultra drew closer to the Emperor’s chair and stood over him. The Emperor opened his muscular legs and kept grinning, inviting Ultra to show off. [Please, Ultra. I want to see the limits of your powers. My warriors were clearly not up to the task, but I can assure you, I am.] He put his hands behind his head and leaned back. Ultra smiled back at the villain, wondering how he hadn’t already grown hard in his thong. No matter. He’d make short work of him and push the ship out of orbit! He started the show again, this time bending over to show off a glute spread. His thick globes of muscle grew before the emperor’s eyes as he bent over and placed his palms on the ground. Then he stood again, muscle exploding across his back as he flexed. He turned to give a side view to the villain and brought up his arm, his ultrabiceps now pushing close to fifty inches. He gave another quarter turn and moved in toward the emperor, his bulging pink thong tantalizingly close, and flexed his abs and leaned closer, close enough that he could stare down into the villain’s brown eyes and lightly stubbled chin. The Emperor moved to reach up his hand and placed it onto Ultra’s rippling abs. The hero froze - usually at this point the villain in question would be so overcome by his aura that he melted or became a dribbling pile of nothing. But the Emperor kept his concentration, his energy immense, as though he was fighting everything that the hero was throwing at him. In a moment, the Emperor grunted, his hands twisting to feel each of the hero’s abs. Ultra closed his eyes, drawn into the touch of this villain. His own cock throbbed as the Emperor dragged his finger along the indentations of each abdominal muscle. His hand drifted up toward the hero’s thick, hanging pecs, and he moved to place a finger atop the hero’s diamond-hard nipple. He swirled around it slowly, causing Ultra to sigh. He brought his arms up to the air in another pose, and the villain gripped his nipple in a pinch. Ultra grunted as his cock throbbed again. He opened his eyes to stare at the Emperor. Sweat poured off his forehead, and there was a noticeable bulge between his legs, yet still he concentrated on the hero, resisting the urges that usually came when anyone was in close contact with Ultra for this long. As he gripped Ultra’s nipple and the hero flexed his pecs, the Emperor stood from his seat. He drew back his other hand, forming a fist. And in another instant, swung hard at Ultra’s waiting abs. The spell was broken in an instant. Ultra tensed his abs in time to meet the assault, only for the shockwave to emanate between them from the force of the Emperor’s blow. The superhero grunted as he flexed, and pushed the Emperor’s grip off from his pec. He drew up his arms and swung his fists at the villain’s face, only for the Emperor to dodge both swings and throw a heavy uppercut to the hero’s chin. Ultra flew backward into the air and turned over in a series of somersaults before stopping at the edge of the wall he had ripped open. “I don’t know what you are, but you’re going to regret that,” Ultra snapped. He charged forward, and swung his fists together. A blast of his pink aura flew forward, striking at the Emperor and sending him off his feet behind the chair he’d been sitting in. The villain staggered to his feet, and Ultra was already on him. He rained down a series of blows on the Emperor’s stomach, pushing the villain back on his toes and causing him to grunt. The Emperor flexed back at Ultra, his own body seeming to add pounds of muscle and his abdominals absorbing the shock of his blows. He swung his fist into the hero’s chest to knock him back. [I have hunted across the galaxy for men like you.] The Emperor’s eyes looked Ultra up and down, and he moved his fist beside his head, charging it, glowing hot with energy. [You had your chance to submit. Now I will make you kneel.] He threw his fist toward Ultra, opening his palm. Out from his hand shot bolts of energy lightning, cascading across the hero’s chest, abs, and quads. Ultra threw his arms up to block the energy, rattled by the strength of it, his aura clashing with the bolts. The Emperor pressed forward and brought up his other hand, connecting the two together and sending more and more bolts of electricity across Ultra’s wide body. The hero grunted as he was forced into a flex, arms at his sides, biceps pulsing, pecs popping, abs contracting, and quads dancing. Never before had he felt such power from anyone - no weapon nor man had managed to strike at Ultra like this - and for a moment he wondered if his knees would buckle. But the hero found his center again, yelling out as he charged up his aura, blasting out against the bolts of energy and sending cascading them along the walls of the ship in a series of sparks. The two faced one another, their bodies heaving, drenched in sweat, determined to best the other. ‘Ultra. His power levels are incredible. I don’t want to alarm you, but he seems to only be growing stronger the longer this fight goes on.’ The General watched the readings on the Emperor versus the measurements against Ultra. He’d been fighting all day, against everything that the Emperor had thrown at him. “Little busy at the moment,” Ultra said as he flexed his pecs and rolled his shoulders. “He’s not the only one who’s got POWER.” Ultra snarled as he drew in power, his ultrapecs growing thicker and his biceps exploding outward. He charged forward to swing a blow into the Emperor’s gut and then chest, forcing him back. As he raised his arm again, the Emperor grabbed it, and the two grappled, their massive bodies jostling against one another. [Your energy is intoxicating.] The Emperor spoke into his mind, and Ultra could see the villain was fully beginning to tent in his thong. He grabbed Ultra by his wrists and pulled them downward so that they were chest to chest against one another. [But what about you, and your needs…] Ultra’s eyes widened. He had never been handled this way, rough and strong, the Emperor’s sweaty, powerful body loomed next to him. His felt his cock throbbing again, and Ultra shook his head. He pulled his wrists back and swung a hard fist into his enemy’s stomach. The Emperor staggered as he dropped to one knee, and Ultra put his hands on his hips. He knew it was only a matter of time before he managed to overwhelm the villain’s muscles. As he prepared another blow with both of his fists high above the Emperor’s back, the villain pounced, placing both hands on Ultra’s bulging thong. Sparks flew as he sent volts of energy through the ultrathong and into Ultra’s waiting dick, forcing the hero to flex and flex against the onslaught of the assault. His aura exploded around him as he fought off the attack, never before experiencing the sensation that was flooding his powerful cock before. His member expanded and grew, harder and thicker as more and more energy cascaded along his shaft and splashed along his quads and abs. He gasped as he felt something stir between his legs, his balls aching the longer the Emperor held. He closed his eyes and the pink energy glowed between his legs. His thong vanished, leaving behind his massive cock, now exposed to the machinations of the dreaded Emperor. He flexed and flexed, resisting, his energy lifting as he fought back, aching, until at last the Emperor slipped off his cock and pushed up off the ground to stand, shakily. Ultra huffed as he stood in front of the Emperor, swaying some, his cock at full mast. He’d never taken such a direct hit from a powerful foe like that before. Not that it mattered. The Emperor looked worse for wear, too. Both of their muscular bodies dripping sweat and faces serious. The Emperor went in to swing another blow into Ultra’s chest, which the hero sidestepped. He hammed the Emperor’s side, only for the villain to slip beside him with a blow to his flank. As the hero staggered, the villain moved to wrap his massive arm around his neck, and reached his other hand around the hero’s thick cock. [I have unfinished business.] The Emperor roared as he sent more energy into the hero’s waiting cock, the light illuminating the darkly lit bridge. Their shadows cast along the side of the wall, the Emperor’s muscular physique melded into Ultra’s to create a freakish shadow, finished off with a massive cock pointing outward. The Emperor stroked Ultra fast as he blasted his rod, hammering it with energy and finessing it with his touch. Ultra felt his chest tighten as his balls ached, and lifted closer to his body. The feeling of the Emperor’s muscular chest against his back and arm around his neck only sent his cock into overdrive. He gasped as he felt himself pushed further and further, until at last, his cock shuddered, and he released. The blast shot out with such power and ferocity, it shattered the ceiling above and blew a massive hole. Energy resounded out of the hero’s cock as he came, roaring with power, his pink aura glowing. It buffeted back the energy the Emperor had blasted, his hand slipping off Ultra’s cock as the hero flexed, shooting more and more of his cum and energy. The power from Ultra’s hardened flex and stance sent the Emperor backward, flipping him over and causing his massive body to skid along the floor and into the wall. Ultra continued shooting for another minute before the glow subsided, and he dipped to his knees. The Emperor, meanwhile, let out a roar, grasping at his own thickening cock. Unable to control himself, he began to shoot a heavy load across the floor. Wad after wad of powerful cum splashed across the ground in front of him. Each of his flexes made in rhythm to his release. ‘Ultra! Are you all right?’ The drone hovered nearby. It surveyed the scene: cum dripping from the massive hole blasted in the ceiling of the bridge; a sweaty, heaving Ultra whose power levels had peaked to an amount never before seen, only to dip precipitously; and the Emperor, on this side on the ground, his own power levels having fallen off a cliff. “I’m okay General,” Ultra spoke softly and took a deep breath. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d blasted such a load. But, as usual, he’d bested the one who’d thought he could hold a candle to Ultra and his ultramuscles. He got to his feet and looked from the drone to the Emperor. “I might need some time before I’m strong enough to tow this thing out to space. But in the meantime, I’m going to make sure he stops being a problem for anyone.” Ultra walked across the wreckage dotting the bridge of the ship and stood over the Emperor. The handsome villain pushed himself onto all fours and groaned. He looked up at the hero and his faint pink aura with a grimace. “Emperor, I’m afraid this is the end of your dynasty. Now, I’m going to take you in and we’re going to send this ship on its way.” Ultra stood with his hands on his hips and waited. The Emperor let out the first sound he’d made aside from the grunts and roars of battle. He laughed. [You think I’m finished, Ultra? You haven’t bested me yet…] The Emperor waved his palm to his side, and there was a clatter from one of the walls as a small metal rod slid across the ground. “I don’t have time for any more games. Your toys were fun, but it’s over, Emperor.” Ultra leaned down to grab the villain by his wrists. In an instant, the Emperor kicked forward. The metal rod in his hand ignited in a beam of energy, and the villain jabbed into the left side of Ultra’s stomach. He grabbed onto the hero’s shoulder and held. Ultra’s eyes grew wide as he felt the energy enter into him. There wasn’t any pain, but he felt a distinct warmth, and knew that he needed to get away. He moved his arms up to the Emperor’s chest and threw him back. The beam pulled out of his stomach and extended, showing its full sword length. Ultra stepped backward, and hovered off the ground an inch or two. In a moment, he dropped to his feet. ‘What was that? Ultra?’ The drone caught Ultra’s back and then circled. The hero’s perfect shape had been maintained, his muscles pristine. But as the drone circled, the control room gasped. There was a dark mark where the energy sword had pierced Ultra’s body, and it was leaking pink energy. His aura appeared to be drifting out of this wound and into the air. “I… I’m not sure General. I feel… strange…” Ultra put a hand to his stomach as though he could patch the hole where the energy was coming from. He staggered on his feet and attempted to fly. He managed a few feet in the air, only to crash his heavy muscled body back to the floor of the bridge. He stood on his feet and grimaced. “I have to… recharge. I’m getting… weaker. Something’s wrong.” No one had ever so much as laid a scratch on Ultra or his ultrabody before, let alone make him leak energy. [At last. You’ve had your wings clipped.] Ultra turned when he heard the Emperor. He was standing then, the energy sword humming in front of him. [It’s time to collect what is mine. That energy smells positively intoxicating coming from you.] ‘Get out of there, Ultra, that’s an order!’ The General barked. Ultra stood facing the Emperor and shook his head. The villain had gotten a lucky shot with his pathetic toy. He only needed to flex out his power and he’d blast back the sword and finish off the Emperor. He readied as the Emperor eyed him up and down. He stepped closer and the energy sword crackled. “My Ultrapowers can’t be bested. Not by the likes of you.” Ultra moved his hand from his stomach, energy drifting around him, body still shimmering under the light. He drew himself into a most muscular and began to flex. The Emperor charged, and moved his sword forward. He held it high and sliced in a diagonal. His blade caught the aura surrounding Ultra and there was a flash and a shower of sparks. The drone was blinded for a moment as the energy between Ultra and the Emperor flared. As the glare dissipated, they caught sight of the Emperor on his knees and pulling back with his energy sword flickering out. Ultra was still in a grin as the control room watched, ready to cheer. Except his face fell as he gasped. His arms had already hit the ground from the blow, the sword cutting one at the wrist, and the other mid bicep. No blood had spilled, only the same pinkish energy sprayed and drifted out of his wounds. Except one half of his body slid one direction and his bottom the other, slamming down to the ground in a thud. “Uuuhhh… oohhh… god…” Ultra writhed, his pecs twitching, unable to feel below his abs, arms flexing but one without his wrist and the other nearly a stump. Energy slipping out of his midsection and pooling on the ground. “F-fuck… n-no… can’t feel my… legs…” His bottom half twitched, and his once massive ultra cock began to recede, shrinking in a matter of seconds, softening to just a few inches in length. The drone took in the terrible sight. Their once perfect hero had gone to pieces before their eyes. From his superpowered body flowed more and more of his energies out onto the deck of the ship and into the air. The Emperor stood over Ultra’s body and glared at the fallen hero. [You have been conquered, and now, I’ll take in your energies and become even more powerful. Your Ultra powers…] The Emperor moved to hold his hands over the swirling wounds of Ultra. This can’t be the end… Ultra could hardly think then, his superpowers the only thing keeping him tethered to the universe. I have to do something. Have to escape. “General…” Ultra groaned. He caught sight of his own wrist and moaned. Tears sprung to his eyes. “Ultra powers… couldn’t… stop him… uuughhh…” [So much power…] The Emperor readied he placed his palms on Ultra’s chest and the hero roared, thrashing. His body aura pushed the Emperor backward, sending him to his chair on the bridge. Ultra moaned as he fell back flat against the floor. “OOooohhh… ughhhh… have to… recharge… must… oooooh…” The pink energy enveloped his fallen form, and in another instant, Ultra melted - his energies cascading upward through the hole in the ceiling until they dissipated, leaving no trace of the fallen hero behind. [TO BE CONTINUED]

Goldfish-man, Goldfish-man, does whatever a goldfish can Started as silly little one-shot, minimally edited to help me start writing again (and then it became 10 pages long, whoops). Also I know nothing about the spider-man universe so please don’t at me, lol. Crowds of people pushed past me as I stood transfixed, staring up at the glass ceiling arched delicately above us. Rippling patterns of light filtered down through the thousands of pounds of water, spilling over the many heads around me before finally reaching the ground. I inhaled sharply, apparently having forgot to breathe, to perform that foundational component of living, as if I, too, were submerged. The shadow of the giant ray, Mobula birostris, finally passed over me. It was hard to imagine living life at that size, pushing the boundaries of a (relatively) small tank and looming over smaller, meager creatures. A small, firm hand grabbed my shoulder roughly and spun me around. "Hey Mark, it's time to head up." Hamzah barely gave me time to respond, turning abruptly and weaving his way through the crowd. I followed him, rushing to keep up. I didn’t see any other members of our college student tour group as we entered the huge open lobby – not too surprising. We had both come early to spend more time in the aquarium. Hamzah seemed to have the place memorized, though, never hesitating for a moment as he expertly dodged bedraggled moms and congested toddlers. An array of fish seemingly defeated by the false tides flailed about amongst fake bull kelp (Nereocystis sp…well, sort of). Their apparently lackadaisical approach to their surroundings infected me, bringing me to a gentle halt. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Hamzah staring back at me as if to say, “Really, Mark?” I shrugged, communicating paraverbally: “Isn’t this what we’re here for?” His eyes said, “No,” and he continued speed walking. Several minutes later found us at our lackluster destination – a door you would probably miss if it weren’t for the sign that read “Staff Only” in fun, aquarium-y font. Our professor, a middle aged man with the textbook appearance of a marine biologist (interpreted lovingly as: surfer dude turned scientist) welcomed us and handed us nametags. I stifled a blush, Hamzah rolled his eyes. An aquarium staff member introduced herself as Dr. Mary Truant, the aquarium’s veterinarian and head researcher. Not for the first time today, I felt my mind wander as she explained her position and the purpose of the aquarium’s research center. Something something ecological restoration something something genetic plasticity to novel anthropogenic environmental stressors yadda yadda. I rolled my eyes at Hamzah already taking notes when we hadn’t even started. The internal workings of the aquarium were rather gaunt and grey, as if this were a completely different building from the colorful halls we had entered through. Various pipes jutted out from odd locations, obstructing the walkway and disappearing into walls and floors. Occasionally a tank would come into view, but outside of talk of nitrogen levels and salinity, we rarely spent much time observing them. What a waste. Eventually we were taken across a skyway to the lab building, a separate entity from the aquarium. The only animals here were kept in holding tanks, and apparently “well documented genome” also meant “least interesting species possible”. I started zoning out again. Hamzah was still furiously scribbling. What he could possibly be writing about these rows and rows of identical goldfish was beyond me. I vaguely understood that they were part of a genetic engineering project, but visually they had so little to offer. One, however, was at least behaviorally distinct. It was larger than the other fish, and kept tapping at the glass. I stopped in front of the grungy medium-sized, eye-level tank and watched the maverick fish attempt to defy its fate (or, it occurred to me, play out the stereotypic commands of its genetically addled grey matter). I lifted my finger to touch the glass, when the tank shattered right in front of me. I barely had time to process the next series of events. For one, I was immediately soaked from head to toe in goldfish-stained tank water. Gross. Simultaneously there was an odd pressure on my right index finger, but by the time I could open my eyes it was gone. Then the screams filtered in (a bit melodramatic for my taste – wasn’t I the one getting doused?) followed by some stifled laughter. Looking down, the shattered remains of the glass were strewn about my feet. Somehow, I had avoided getting a single cut. Dr. Truant appeared within seconds offering a towel and profuse apologies. I assured her I wasn’t damaged (beyond my dignity) and she didn’t need to file a report. After all, the assailant had fared much worse - both lacerated and asphyxiated, it lay dead on the floor. “Well, Richards won’t be thrilled, but maybe he should have invested in thicker tanks…anyways, I’m just glad you weren’t hurt. If you need a sweater I’m sure we can get you one from the gift shop after the tour if you’re cold.” The sweater had a cool whale on it. Sweet. As we left the aquarium, I noticed a series of red markings on my finger. They looked suspiciously like little teeth marks. And then it dawned on me. That goldfish bit me. I was bitten by a goldfish. Was that even possible? A quick google informed that it wasn’t impossible. Although the anatomical considerations were… A growing fear was mounting in my chest. “Hey Hamzah,” I whispered, “Were you paying attention in there? I think this goldfish attacked me in some sort of last-ditch effort to play out its misplaced aggression.” I showed him my finger. “Didn’t she say they were, like, radioactive or something?” “It’s irradiated, not radioactive. To simulate exposure, like at Chernobyl. Creatures can’t be radioactive…well, not, like, meaningfully. They’d die. From the radioactivity. Also there’s no way we’d be allowed in that room if there were stacks of radioactive animals in it. I’m surprised IACUC let them get away with it, honestly…” “Oh, because you’re so familiar with the ins and outs of IACUC policy.” “Wait, how do you know what IACUC even is?” “Why would I not know what IACUC is? Just because I’m not drowning in books every day like you are…I know stuff.” This argument continued for several minutes. “I mean, you’re probably fine,” Hamzah said, finally. “It’s probably too late to go back there anyhow. If it gets infected, just go to your doctor.” I stared at the innocuous indentations. They seemed harmless. Like they were already healing, maybe. Nothing I could do about it now, anyways. My head slumped over onto Hamzah’s shoulder as I fell asleep on the subway ride home. Later that night, I awoke in a sweat. I put my hand to my stomach to find that my wife beater was entirely soaked through. Great. Sirens blared through the midnight air, reminding me for the umpteenth time that I did, in fact, live in the city that never sleeps. I rolled over lazily and turned off my space heater, allowing the light chill of early winter to creep its way in. Taking off my shirt was an unexpected challenge. For some reason it felt glued to my skin. Weird. Maybe it had shrunk in the wash? But it fit well when I put it on earlier. Now the seams were audibly groaning as I struggled to remove it from my wiry frame. Maybe my sweat had suddenly develop astringent properties from that mutant goldfish? I laughed into the empty night at my own dumb thought. I fumbled around in the dark for an alternate clothing option, landing on my recently acquired cetacean sweater. Nice. I was already feeling chilly, and being bundled up in a nice big sweater like this lulled me back to sleep almost immediately. I awoke to the tune of my own circadian rhythm, enjoying the freedom of an unburdened Sunday morning. The overcast sky greeted me with a gentle gray light, and I huddled under the covers for another hour before finally freeing myself from the tomb of blankets and pillows holding me down. I let out a yawn as I stretched my hands skyward. My sweater slid up my abdomen as I lifted my arms, and it stayed stuck around my midsection. I pulled it back down, failing to immediately piece together any incongruity. Several key realizations, however, slowly made their way through the fog of my waking brain as I went to make myself a bowl of cereal: 1. All the kitchen cabinets had been moved lower since last night 2. My cereal bowls were lighter than they used to be 3. Everything seemed to be a slightly different color 4. My clothes were tight again. Like, uncomfortably tight. Wait…what? I glanced over at the full length mirror across the room. Perched atop a stool at the kitchen counter, a tall, beefy jock stared back at me. But that’s where I was sitting. The spoon dropped out of my mouth and fell into the bowl, splashing a little milk on my new sweater. I waddled over to the reflection slowly, still not quite believing the evidence right in front of me. A series of perfectly mirrored pantomime motions confirmed that the behemoth staring dumbfounded back at me was in fact my own reflection, my own titanic arms stretching sleeves to their limit, my own thunder thighs squeezing into my pajama pants like a stuffed sausage. Fuck. My clothes were so tight that I was afraid to move, worried that I might destroy them. An involuntary erection snaked its way up and over the hem of my pants, beginning to leak. Overcoming the fear of fabricide, curiosity demanded that I lift my arms into a mighty double bicep pose. The sleeves moaned under the pressure and I could see the hems starting to give, but they remained woefully intact. A swift most muscular just barely failed to make the seams explode at my shoulders. Lifting the fabric at my waist, I almost lost it at the sight of deeply etched abdominals. I rubbed my hands over the grooves in my skin, still struggling to believe that they belonged on my body. A notification on my phone snapped me back to reality. Hamzah, texting me about plans later today. I sent a message back saying I was sick. I mean, wasn’t I, in a way? As incredible as these new changes were, the inconvenient logistics of my situation were starting to creep in. How was I supposed to explain these changes to anyone at school or at home? Was this the final stage or were there more changes to come that I couldn’t predict? What was I even supposed to wear? What was I supposed to wear… I glanced back at the milk-stained sweater and cum-stained pants holding on for their dear lives as my himbofied muscle bod stressed their core stitchings to their limit. So, maybe not those. I scrambled through my closet to find an XXL t-shirt left by my ex and pair of one-size-fits-all scrub pants from a lab I took a year ago. An unusual combo, but they at least they sort of fit. I wiped up the mess from my cereal bowl, grateful that my roommates were gone until later in the day, and headed out the door. My reflection in the subway window continued to startle me. More than a few people had turned their heads as I had walked to the station. The struggles of the jock life. Of my life. Well, that was going to take some getting used to. Fortunately, there weren’t too many people out and about on a Sunday morning to gawk at me. There was, however, one cute boy who was clearly awestruck by my presence and kept furtively glancing in my direction. I had half a mind to… No, no, focus. I had to get back to the aquarium, to get someone to explain what was happening to me. I was so distracted playing out the thousand possible scenarios before me that several minutes passed before I noticed my shirt actively shrinking. No, that couldn’t be right. Could it? I watched helplessly as my already prodigious biceps slowly but perceptibly expanded. The band logo on my shirt gradually warped into unrecognizable text as my growing pecs pulled the words apart. I pulled at the collar around my neck for space, but there was already so little room that it was hard to fit my fingers through. The inflexible fabric of my pants only served to highlight every individual muscle group as they relentlessly inflated against their woven captor. Somehow, my equally inflating dick was not as obvious as it could have been – still, I struggled to hide my full on erection in this increasingly tiny tube. And just when I thought my shirt was tight enough to burst, the growth stopped. In typical New York fashion, no one seemed to notice my public transformation – except, of course, for my mid-range admirer. In fact, he had his phone out. Was he recording me? Well, that wasn’t good. The car stopped and the sonorous overhead ‘ding’ announced the new station. The moment he realized I was looking directly at him, he stopped recording and fled out the door. I found the subway car difficult to maneuver in with my new size – seriously, how did any bodybuilder function in everyday life? – and by the time I got out he was already leaving the station. Shit. I sprinted in his direction, and to my surprise I caught up to him in mere seconds. Standing before him, it baffled me just how small he was. His eyes barely reached the bottom of my pecs and my forearms were probably thicker than his thighs. How did an adult man tolerate being this puny? “Were you recording me?” I grunted. “N-n-no, dude. Of course not.” I lifted him by the back of his shirt collar easily and held him up at eye level. “Hand me your phone,” I commanded. He scrambled to take his phone out of his pocket and gave it over to me, sweating. “Great. Now what’s your…” I asked, but in my attempt to get to his log on screen I had already busted his phone with my giant hams. Oops. I guess I really didn’t know my own strength. “Shit, sorry,” I muttered, dropping him to his feet. I noticed a wet spot in his pants – it was anyone’s guess as to the nature of the fluid, but either way, the awkwardness of the encounter was mounting higher with every passing second. “I…I hope you have insurance,” I mumbled, turning around and walking away swiftly. As I continued my speed walk down the streets of New York, struggling to erase that embarrassing interaction from my gray matter, I kept having to pull my shirt down to avoid exposing my abs. After the fourth or fifth attempt, I realized that keeping my shirt down just wasn’t possible – I was so much taller and wider that the bottom of my shirt was unable to reach down past my navel. Great, my hulked out body had transformed the modest XXL into a skimpy crop top. But you know what? Why should it matter? People probably loved getting a glance at abs like these. This might be the only time in their lives when they were up close to so much muscle. Shouldn’t they enjoy it? Yeah. Yeah, they absolutely should. And who was I to deprive them of that? For the first time since the transformation, my lumbering gait had transformed into a strut. By the time I reached the aquarium, the gawking receptionist informed me that both Truant and Richards were out of the office (it was Sunday, after all). She was also not permitted to give out their contact information to members of the public, and advised that I reach out through the program that facilitated the tour if I needed to get in touch sooner. No amount of jockish charm was getting through to her. My ego deflated a little. As I walked away, I could just imagine the email to our professor – ‘Hey Prof, seems I was accidentally mutated by that fish who broke its tank yesterday, and now I’m a hulking behemoth who’s rapidly running out of valid clothing options. Think I could get a main line to the mad scientists who fucked over my genome? Best, Mark.’ I sighed heavily, staring into the large fountain outside the aquarium. The water was comforting, somehow. I had half a mind to get in as I weighed the options before me. I decided to text Hamzah instead. In an ideal universe, this would be kept a secret. My burgeoning traps and glutes, however, made than an unlikely possibility. If I couldn’t contact the scientists directly, I could at least ask the smartest geek I personally knew. ‘Heyyyyyyy, so I lied. I’m not exactly sick. But I need your help. Come over ASAP?’ Within minutes I received an ambiguous ‘fine’ in response. By the time I got home, Hamzah was already sitting outside my apartment door, absentmindedly staring at his phone. As I approached he turned to face me and said, “About…time.” I looked down at him with a blank expression, not certain what response to expect in return. He stood up, the top of his head reaching just to my collar bone. “What happened to you?” he asked, almost too matter-of-factly. “I can explain once we get inside.” “And why are you wet?” Leave it to Hamzah to focus on the extraneous details of our science-fiction-come-to-life scenario. “Well, I…swam here. It was faster.” “You what?” “It’s a lot easier with the gills…” “Gills? Oh.” He sighed, putting together the few pieces of the puzzle he had with lightning speed. “Yeah,” I said, unlocking the door. “From yesterday? The fish?” “Uh huh. Well, probably” “Right. Right…well, the gills make sense. But why are you, you know?” “Outcompeting Arnold? Going toe to toe with Lou Ferrigno?” I laughed at the idea, but I wasn’t wrong. “Yeah, that.” “Your guess is as good as mine. Although, I think I have an idea.” He stared up at me, as if to say, “Explain, please.” “I think I’m growing to the size of the clothes I’m wearing. The growth always stops just when they’re about to burst. You know, like how a goldfish grows to the size of its tank.” “I don’t think that’s a real fact about goldfish.” He seemed almost annoyed. “Do you have a better explanation?” He put his hand to his chin in a classic thinking man’s pose. “No, I guess not. But then why the size of your clothes? Why not the room?” “I don’t know, I don’t make the rules. It was a mutant goldfish?” “Have you tested it out?” “I mean. Not exactly. This is only my second change of clothes, and they were already the largest I own. Emphasis on were.” I shifted uncomfortably in my scrub-coded tights. “Right. Well, I can probably be back from the thrift store in 15 minutes…” “No!” “No?” “I’m already big enough. What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to explain this to anyone?” “You explained it to me just fine,” he said, tapping his foot impatiently. “How am I supposed to explain it to anyone normal.” “Okay, yeah, fair enough…” It was a little hard to see down that far, but I could swear I saw a bulge in his pants. “Really, you’re hard?” He glared at me, half indignant and half embarrassed, as if to say “Did you expect anything different given the circumstances?” “Well, you’re not the first guy…” “What?” “It’s not my fault? Or I don’t think it’s my fault. I can’t tell if this is a mutant power or if every gay boy in the city is secretly just a freak muscle junkie…” “It’s probably the former.” “Probably,” I said, rolling my eyes at his unfounded certainty in the explanation that absolved him of any responsibility. “Okay, well, first things first. We have to find clothes that fit but aren’t going to trigger your growth.” “Right, okay.” “I have an idea.” “I’m open to anything,” I said, somewhat desperately. “I’m guessing the way this works is that your body grows until it senses a certain degree of pressure on your skin. So, maybe, if you wear something form fitting, it’ll be enough pressure to stop you from getting bigger but still fit over your…girth.” “Okay. It’s worth a shot. I mean, it’s that or never wear clothes again, right?” I saw him blush, which was a rare occurrence for Hamzah. It was kind of cute, seeing him small and helpless like that. In fact, if I wanted to, it would be so easy to just grab him and… Focus. Step one, obtain clothes. “Okay, I’ll be back soon. Soonish. I’ll probably need to make a few stops.” He left in a hurry, seeming relieved to break the sexual tension in favor of a more objective mission. I tried to take off my current clothes, but being soaked and two sizes too small I quickly gave up and just tore them off. I grabbed a few towels to wipe off the entirety of my body and glanced at my progress in the mirror. I was starting to approach seriously freaky size. As I craned my arms into a double bicep pose, my lats flared out involuntarily, eclipsing the width of this poor little wall-mounted mirror. Wrapping my hand around one of my jutting pecs, I could feel the weight and heft shift as I slowly flexed it to its full potential. I noticed my perception adjusting to this new size, maybe even longing to get bigger. My gaze wandered down to my dick, which seemed to always be in a state of semi-erection. I lifted it up against my abs, letting it graze the corrugated muscle and throb in response. No one was here. Might as well let loose. By the time Hamzah had returned, I had lost count of how many loads I lost. I had attempted to take a bath to wash off the spunk, but most of my body no longer fit and I shot another at the thought of growing too big for the tub. Fortunately, the shower was more effective and I was just drying off as Hamzah entered the bathroom. He tried to hide it, but I could tell the little man was awestruck by the glory of my fully naked body. I flexed my gills, exposing the openings in the sides of my neck. “Ew, put those away,” he said. “Hmph, feels a little ableist,” I joked. “Oh, shut up. I got some options for you.” He dumped the new spandex clothes unceremoniously on the couch. “Here, try this one.” “What color is this?” “White. Did the fish bite make you blind?” “No, I think I see ultraviolet now. It’s kinda like purple but…different.” “Fascinating. Can you put the shirt on now please?” He said, averting his eyes. “I think it’s pretty cool…” I muttered under my breath. I contorted my torso to slip on the XL under-armour shirt. It ripped before it even got past my shoulders. “I think we’ll need something bigger.” To make a point, I flexed my bicep and easily tore the poor seems apart. “Okay…try this.” He handed me a neon orange XXXL, and I barely managed to squeeze it on with his help. “Well, how do you feel?” he asked. “Honestly…good. Like, really good. Like I’ve never felt this powerful in my entire life.” “I meant the shirt, idiot.” “Oh, yeah. It fits well. I don’t think I’m growing, either.” He smirked, seemingly proud of himself that he had cracked the code. “Put these on next.” The pants were a deep green and slightly tighter than the shirt, but together we pulled them over my iron glutes. My half hard dick fell sideways over my huge quads. Hamzah didn’t say anything, but I knew he was impressed. I waddled over to the mirror once more. “Where’d you get these colors? I look like a superhero!” “At the sizes you’re looking for there’s not a lot of options. And you look like Mermaid Man. If you count that as a superhero.” “Does that make you my little Barnacle Boy?” I said, smirking down at him. Way down. In fact, he seemed to be getting shorter. Uh oh. “Hamzah, I don’t think your theory was correct.” A pallor came over his face as he watched my pecs pull my collar downwards. “Here, I’ll help you take them off. Hurry!” I started to lift the shirt up from my abs, but quickly found my lats to be very much in the way. Hamzah’s little stick arms weren’t having any better luck. He sprinted over to the kitchen to get scissors, but when he returned I held him down with one of my hands. “What are you doing!?” I took a moment to contemplate what to do next. This growth felt good. Like, really good. Great, actually. Like the best thing that had ever happened to me. Why should I stop now? Why, I could be the strongest man that ever existed. Bigger than the Thing, stronger than the Hulk. Who cares who knows? No one could stop me now. I’d just outgrow them. Become invincible. It turns out the spandex wasn’t just ill equipped to stop my growth. If anything, the elasticity just propelled my growth even further – no matter how much larger I became, the pressure never changed. Hamzah watched in horror as my body continued to swell. I must have passed the 400 pound mark before they started to tear, but I just kept growing through it. It wasn’t until all the clothes were in shreds on the floor that my body finally slowed down. I eventually let Hamzah go, but he didn’t move. I stood up and stretched my arms, but found them quickly hampered by the ceiling. My dick was staunchly erect and oozing cum. It bobbed against my abs, which were starting to get a little bloated from the sheer size – still, my waist was only about a quarter of the width of my shoulders. I picked Hamzah up by his shirt and propped him on one of my pecs. His legs dangled over the edge of my chest, but he sat there comfortably. “Well, that didn’t work,” I stated plainly. “No, no it did not,” he responded. “But look at the results!” I exclaimed. “Isn’t it incredible! I can’t believe I ever wanted to stop growing. Although finding clothes that force me to grow more is gonna be pretty difficult now…” “You can’t be serious. This isn’t enough for you? As it is you can barely even walk out the door or wash yourself. If you get any bigger it’d just be…impractical.” “Hmph, well, you don’t seem to mind” I gestured, pointing at his own erection. He blushed again, and I lifted him up to stare at me face to face. “I think I know what will help. Give you an example of how we can meet the ‘impractical’ needs of my growing body.” “We?” “Well, you really,” I said, grabbing my dick and forcing it down just enough to create a special opening between my cock and my abs. He fit perfectly, squirming a bit at first but quickly accepting his position. “There. Now I have someone to keep the cum from getting all over the apartment”. He started lapping up the flowing liquid, wrapping his arms and legs around my massive member to squeeze out more and more. “That’s a good boy. Does this seem ‘practical’ enough for you?” “Yeah, I…” He couldn’t stop drinking long enough to fully answer. The door clicked and my two roommates entered with their backpacking gear. It was fair to say they were a bit taken aback by the scene before them. Oh, good. Some more servants to meet my needs.

The following is a section of a story based on Muscleboy: a superpowered, supermuscled, and cocky young hero that takes on villains for the good of humanity. He's got a few weaknesses as you'll learn. Imagine superman with supercock/cum powers, even more cockiness that he uses against strange and powerful foes. He's not a jobber, so even if he may or may not prevail against the parasite, please don't assume that Muscleboy's defacto state is to fall against villains. On the contrary, he's usually the victor, getting stronger with every bout. Consider this a slice of his story (and with enough interest, maybe I'll start at the beginning). For visuals, I thought I'd insert our fair hero and what you can imagine him looking like: For a long while now, I've been working with @sampsonmuscle (too long) on roleplays and stories related to his original character. I wanted to preface saying he's been amazing in regard to chatting about lifting/the gym as well as fun (and hot) roleplay scenes. Tags: Superhero, Superpowers, Muscle Theft, Drain, Cum, Supervillain, Muscle Growth, Cock Growth Warnings: If you don't like campy superhero stuff, muscle growth/theft, this probably isn't the story for you. Now, with all that being said - I'm happy to post the first section of The Adventures of Muscleboy: In The Parasite's Clutches!

A bald man walked through a dark hallway full of flickering lights in an underground laboratory, that man with a well-built body, but in an ordinary way, lay dressed in a white shirt and black dress pants and a tie of the same color. slightly out of adjustment, the man was sweating profusely and his walk was slow but sure as he went down that hallway. A communicator was placed in his left ear, which looked like a small hearing aid, that man in a white shirt was none other than Lex Luthor who was heading to another sector of his underground laboratory, just below his company LEXCORP, that place was protected from the sight of his nemesis, Superman, since the outer layer of the entire area it covered was covered in lead to prevent the hero's X-ray vision. A voice in Lex's ear communicator was heard: — Mr. Luthor, Parasite is already in the cell — Very well, I think it's time for me to go visit our guest, I need something important from him... Luthor soon passed through an automatically sealed reinforced door, and positioned himself in Parasite's cell, a large specially reinforced glass was dividing the two subjects, Parasite looked quite weak and somewhat disoriented, while Luthor looked at him coldly. - You don't look good at all... —The great Lex Luthor is bringing me to his underground laboratory, I must be someone important then… —In fact you are not, but you have something that interests me… — Fuck you Luthor, I won't give you anything. Parasite said while flashing a sly smile on his face. — It's too bad that you don't want to cooperate, don't worry, it's not necessary to have your consent for it. Luthor pressed a button and mechanical arms with pincers snaked down from the top of the cell, immediately focusing their pincers in the direction of the prisoner. — I think you will notice that I can be very persuasive my friend... Parasite, still being quite weak, fought a little against the mechanical arms, but it didn't take him long to fall before them, each arm took hold of one of its extremities, and soon a mechanical arm, very thin compared to the others, emerged from the same place as the previous ones with a syringe. Parasite tried to drain the energy from the machines, but Lex just smiled. — Oh, don't even bother, they have a special coating to prevent you from draining their energy Parasite looked at Luthor with hatred, and he didn't even bother to pay attention to him anymore, so he proceeded to give a message over the communicator. —Proceed to extract the sample… - Yes sir, we proceed... The mechanical arm began to move the syringe in the direction of the prisoner's neck. —You will see that it will not be something pleasant for you… — No, wait Luthor, I'll give you whatever you want!!!!! Parasite struggled futilely to free himself and his face began to turn into despair and then terror as the needle slowly advanced. — Oh, of course you'll give me what I want, but unfortunately for you this is the only way. Luthor said as he continued to stare blankly at his hostage, then shook his head in affirmation. Quickly and precisely, the needle was inserted into the base of Parasite's skull, and he let out a piercing scream of terror that was beyond belief. The cell was not perceptible because they had muted the cell's audio. The needle extracted a purplish-colored liquid while the subject spasmed in pain. Lex gave a very slight smile of satisfaction as he watched the syringe fill with that precious liquid. - I told you, I get what I want... Luthor mentioned while Parasite felt a chill running through his body due to that statement that was being fulfilled at that moment. Soon the syringe finished filling and four more came out to do the same. Parasite felt even more dizzy and weak, but he could still stand a little. —Proceed to put the guest to sleep… A blue gas began to fill the cell and Parasite little by little suffocated, in such a way that he soon remained kneeling on the floor coughing and later became unconscious. — Don't worry, you won't die, I just put you to sleep, I hope you like staying here for the rest of your life, by the way, thank you for giving me what I wanted so much... Luthor proceeded to turn off all the lights in the cell and slowly and firmly left that place. In his mind, the plan that for years had been his last option to destroy that conceited Superman, but soon that alien, began to take shape. He would have what he deserved, he would know what it would be like to truly feel terror, Superman's world would crumble, it would be completely destroyed and it would be Lex's as his most cherished dream came true.

This is a fictional story. Any semblance to any person, thing or concept in the particular multiverse in which you live may not correspond to the universe of this story or may be purely coincidental. PART ONE “So did you measure it to make sure it’s as big as he claims?” asked Dr. Piro. “Yes, sir. And it’s as long and wide as he said it was,” answered Simon, his lab assistant. “And he agreed to do it for the price?” “Yes. He said that he felt erotic just thinking about it. He said it was the chance of a lifetime to use his great prowess to take down a superhero,” replied Simon. Rubbing his hands together, Dr. Piro said, “Now we are ready.” The 6 -foot three, 245 pound, brown haired alien with bulging muscles in his skintight suit known as Powerman had long been a thorn in the side of right wing, libertarian, coke-addict billionaire Lonnie Mucus. “Too much all-American, goody-two shoes for my taste,” he was quoted as saying to a magazine about Powerman. When Powerman offered to take a new communications satellite into Space for the US Government to replace an old one that had suddenly failed, Mucus saw a superhero that was now competing with his new Space launching satellite business that the American government had become dependent on. He decided Powerman had to go. So Mucus hired Dr. Piro, a scrawny but brilliant scientist, to do whatever it takes to disable Powerman as a threat to his own values and businesses. “Kill him if you must, but if you can preserve him for lab study, that would be even better,” he told the scientist. With almost unlimited funding, Dr. Piro began his task but after five years of hard work, the scientist had been unable to discover a way to kill or disable the superhero. During that time, Powerman had become more outspoken in terms of promoting the values of truth, justice, and community and against the “freedom to say and do whatever you want” attitude of the billionaire, anti-regulation, laissez faire libertarian philosophy of the billionaire further angering him. Powerman received a secret message from an FBI agent, who was secretly on the payroll of Mucus, that an informant in the campaign of the presidential candidate that Mucus was helping to bankroll, was willing to pass on damaging information about the candidate and Mucus. But he would do it only if Powerman met him secretly and alone at a powerplant, which just happened to be owned by Mucus. Powerman agreed to meet the informant at the powerplant and flew there for the meeting. Powerman scanned the industrial building on the plant site from the sky and saw a large room with a lot of electrical equipment and then an adjacent room which contained four burly men and a smaller man. “Humm,” thought Powerman, “everything looks safe and nothing seems unusual for a pwoerplant.” Following the instructions he was given, Powerman landed outside the front entrance of the building and entered through large metal door. Once inside the main, well-lit room, he saw large disks of what looked like heat lamps all over the walls and ceiling of the room. He stepped deeper into the room and shouted, “Hello, I am here.” Suddenly, he heard a loud humming noise. Then the lights lighting the room went out and it was dark. Unbeknowst to Powerman, at that same moment there was blackout in the city surrounding the powerplant and for about 5 seconds all the energy created by the plant was directed into those disks that surrounded Powerman. The light created by that energy filled the room bathing Powerman with it. “Uggh,” cried the super strong hero. Never before had he felt so weak and drained. He suddenly face-planted onto the floor unconscious. Watching the entire event through security cameras from the adjacent room, Dr. Piro and the four muscular men then entered the main room. Looking at the prostrate, white-costumed superhero with his bubble butt protruding into the air, he said, “It worked just as predicted. Now boys, carry our friend down the stairs to the laboratory underneath this building. His transformation has just begun!” PART TWO Dr. Piro’s mobile rang. It was Mucus. “How is it going, my good doctor?” “Just as I planned, sir. Powerman is currently unconscious and we are set up to start the process," Dr. Piro responded. “Good. Good. I like your plan. Humiliation and captivity are even better than death.” “Well, if all goes as planned, you’ll have a new breed of bodyguards and henchmen at your service.” “There is no if, good doctor. There is no fail,” retorted Mucus. “You had better make this happen.” Mucus then hung up. Powerman was stretched out on his stomach spread eagle in some device that looked something like a flat operating chair used for colonoscopies. His legs were separated, each one strapped in with metal bands. His thick bulbous ass pointing slightly up with his torso slightly raised making a slight arch in his muscular back. Each powerful arm was flared out from his body and slightly bent at the elbow while being held on place by metal bands. His head was secured inside a metal cage attached to the device but his face was open and visible but the head harness permitted only his mouth to move. The device hinged at his hips and torso permitting it to move if he were to hip thrust or arch his back further. The arms did not permit movement except to move slightly forward with this torso and the leg braces also permitted some abduction but not much. His red and white suit remained intact except it had been stripped off his back and his ass leaving him naked there and revealing a back of tan rippled muscles like waves on a sea. Slowly Powerman began to return to full consciousness. Groggy, he began to mumble, ”Where, what, how.” “Well, my favorite alien is beginning to wake up and join our party, Simon,” mocked Dr. Piro to his assistant. Powerman tried to raise his head but the metal straps held it down. His muscles swelled as he struggled to free both his arms and legs but the device held him firmly. He felt so tired and exhausted. He could see his super strength was gone. He decided he needed the stall Dr. Piro and recover from whatever he did to him. “Simon, let’s make our guest more comfortable so we can talk. Raise the chair.” Simon pressed several buttons on a wireless controller. The device holding our superhero raised Powerman higher from the floor and tiled his body vertically so now he was face to face with his captor. PART THREE Powerman was now eye to eye with the old, short, bald, eyeglass-wearing doctor and his assistant, the young, brown-haired bespectacled Simon. “I suppose my caped spandex hero is wondering how you got in his predicament. Well, I am going to tell you my soon to be neutered muscleman. It goes to my own ingenuity and brilliance and that of humankind in general over your alien race. You see, Powerman, it seems you would occasionally connect your computers in your mountain liar to the satellite Internet network owned by my employer, Mr. Mucus. Yes, your Internet defenses were very strong and my Russian hacking friends were frustrated after trying to penetrate them. But with some additional help from Chinese hackers and AI we were finally able to get in. From there we were able to download the history of your society and all the biological information about your alien race. Although written in your alien language, our AI was able to decipher it in less than three months.” Powerman listened carefully to Dr. Piro. He wondered if he could have really penetrated his systems. How then did he manage to neutralize his superpowers? He then noticed he was feeling less tired and the grogginess of his mind had cleared. “And what an interesting history and biology it is!” continued the scrawny doctor. “I learned your society is divided into three castes—the female caste whose primary purpose is reproduction, a eunuch working class whose role is to serve as workers for the entire society and finally the super powerful male warrior class, of which you are a prime specimen! The females seem to be 300-400 pound, essentially immobile creatures who have a lust for sex constantly except during the 13-month period of pregnancy. So they are basically sex slaves cared for by the eunuchs. Meanwhile the warrior class men rule your society where everyone serves them and they maintain the harmony and order. Might not seem all that interesting at first given human history but then I learned that all members of your race are genetically hermaphrodites! Apparently whether a female gives birth to another female, a eunuch or a warrior is determined by what foods are given the female during her pregnancy. By controlling the nutrition of the captive pregnant females, the warriors control what type of person is born based on the warrior class’ needs.” Now Powerman was getting worried. He realized that Dr. Piro had been successful in obtaining information from his liar. But with each passing minute he was feeling less and less exhausted. Perhaps his superpowers were returning, and he would eventually be able to break free. He needed to stall whatever Dr. Piro planned next. “But….” interrupted Powerman. “Shut up! No interruptions!” shouted the doctor and he slapped Powerman across his face. Powerman winced in pain with the blow and decided it was best to keep quiet for now. Simon looked pained seeing Powerman slapped. He admired the superhero’s chiseled jaw and straight narrow nose. He had a handsome face as well as a well-proportioned muscled body. The epitome of human maleness in his view. Now trapped in the clutches of his ugly old boss. He found Powerman’s helpless predicament sad but yet wildly erotic and exhilarating at the same time. His member stirred. “Now where was I?” Dr. Piro queried. “Oh yes. While your warrior class with their superpowers kept your planet peaceful once in a while a warrior or two would rebel and would need to be neutralized. But given those superpowers that was not easy to do. Fortunately, it appears that there is a biological failsafe mechanism built right into your genetics.” To be continued

Two perspective job candidates go head-to-head when presenting their experiments that could help solve world hunger. Max had graduated from college with a masters in biochemistry. He had been looking for a job for months and finally had made it far in the hiring process for a job at a stem cell laboratory that was leading the charge on fighting world hunger. For the last step in the hiring process, two candidates were meant to demonstrate to the board of directors their competency within biochemistry and how they will further the research of the laboratory. “Geez. I’m really nervous for this man. I can’t believe it’s come down to just the two of us,” said Max as he paced back and forth waiting for them to be called in. “Hey don’t worry man. I’m not surprised it ended up coming down to the two of us. We were both leagues ahead of our other classmates when we were in school,” said Ethan as he patted Max on the shoulder. Ethan and Max had gone to the same university for grad school and they were the brainiacs of the class. They had always gotten a kick out of the friendly competition they had between each other, but it was always in good fun for the furtherance of science. They became good friends and were happy that the respective other had made it so far in the interview process. “Ethan, Max, they’re ready for you,” said the receptionist as she poked her head out of the door. The two walked into a large room. There were two tables set up on opposite ends of the room and a table at the front where five people in lab coats were sitting and waiting for the two men to walk in. “Hello gentlemen. Congratulations on making it this far in the hiring process. We have looked at your accomplishments within academia, we’ve interviewed both of you and found that both of you are passionate about this field, now we would like to assess what you two have to offer this research group. We’ve set up your experiments as instructed by the two of you and have read your procedures. Mr. Burk you will be conducting your experiment first. Good luck and take it away when you’re ready,” said the scientist as she sat back down in her chair. Max walked up to the table and saw his experiment materials: five lab rats, a syringe, a beaker of a green liquid, a scale, a wire, and two double A batteries. “Hello distinguished members of the board. My name is Max Burk and today I will present you with my solution on curing world hunger. As you have read from my thesis, I have discovered a way to harness electrical energy and turn it into calories.” Max took out three lab rats from the cage. “This is Charlie, Delta, and Echo. Genetically identical lab rats. I administered my formula to Charlie and Delta one week ago today while Echo has not received the treatment. As you can see, Charlie and Delta are significantly larger than Echo. Charlie is 43% larger and Delta is 87% larger. The discrepancy in sizes are due to the diets we had them on. Echo is currently on a strict dry food diet. I fed him once daily and he has not increased in size at all in the past week. I placed Charlie on a strictly electric diet. I gave him access to 1.5 volts of electricity a day and as you can see, he has gained significant size. Delta’s diet was both an electric and caloric one. I fed him the same amount as Echo and gave him the same volts as Charlie. I’ve discovered through administering both treatments, the specimen will grow twice as much than when it was just the electric access.” “And just to prove that these results are true, allow me to give you a demonstration.” Max set the three lab rats back down in the cage and picked up a new one. “This is Foxtrot. He has not been exposed to the formula and is also genetically identical to the others. He currently weighs 403 grams and after I administer a dose of the formula and expose him to this simple double A battery, he should increase to approximately 420 grams.” Max grabbed the syringe on the table, extracted 10mL of formula from the beaker, and injected it into Foxtrot. The rat spasmed as the formula worked its way into his bloodstream. “To give you a description of what is happening, enzymes are being added to his digestion system that are able to accept electricity as a resource to be converted to energy. He is feeling a small bit of pain at the moment, but the process is brief.” As fast as it started, Foxtrot’s reaction stopped. Max picked up one of the batteries and connected the wire to it. He placed it in front of the lab rat and Foxtrot immediately went to observe it. He began to suck on the exposed part of the wire. Slowly but surely, the scientists in the room watched as the rat steadily increased in size as he continued to suck on the wire. Once Foxtrot had consumed all of the voltage stored in the battery, Max grabbed him and put him on the scale. “422 grams. In just one short session, the rat has gained 5% of its original size.” “This is clearly a phenomenal discovery that you’ve made Mr. Burk, but this is only a small dosage and it has gained a significant amount of size, what will happen when a user has gained enough size and can’t stop gaining size?” asked one of the scientists. “Excellent question Dr. Washington.” Max turned around and retrieved another lab rat from the cage. This rat was larger than both Delta and Echo. “This is Beta. I administered the formula to him 40 days ago. Watch what happens when he is exposed to the same amount of voltage as Foxtrot just was.” Max replaced the battery that Foxtrot had drained with a fresh one. He placed Beta in the cage with the exposed wire and he did the exact same thing as Foxtrot did. But he didn’t gain size like the previous rat. “The formula has now worn off within Beta so therefore he no longer converts the electricity into energy.” “Excellent job Mr. Burk. I do have a question as well. You’ve clearly used the NATO phonetic alphabet to name your rats. So I must ask, what happened to Alpha?” “He was the first rat to be administered the formula. Unlike the other lab rats, he had a larger dose of 50ccs. He grew much larger than the other rats much faster and he had to be terminated. But with your funding, I hope to be able to begin moving to human testing. Thank you.” The room clapped for him as he sat down in the chair next to Ethan. “You were really good. I don’t know how I’m ever going to top that,” said Ethan as Max sat back down. “I’m sure you’ll find some way to top me. Good luck.” “Mr. Rogers. If you’ll present us with your findings?” “Yes ma’am.” Ethan scurried his way to the table to find his own beaker with a red liquid inside, 5 lab rats, a miniature treadmill, a syringe, and a scale. “Ladies and gentlemen of the board, I’d like to present you with my growth hormone.” Ethan turned around and picked up a very large lab rat. It looked to be almost the size of a housecat. “This is specimen 6. I administered my growth formula to him 50 days ago and as you can see, he has grown approximately 600% bigger than his original size. This was not done with any other special food. He received the same food that this rat was fed.” Ethan pulled out a second lab rat that was normal sized. “This is specimen 7. He was given the same amount of food that specimen 6 was. However, specimen 6 did receive 25ccs of my growth hormone as well as an increased amount of exercise.” Ethan set specimen 6 back in the cage and grabbed a rat that was smaller than specimen 6, but bigger than specimen 7. “This is specimen 8. He was given the same amount of food and formula as specimen 6, but he did not receive an increase in exercise like specimen 6. I believe I have found a way for the muscle tissue to break down and rebuild itself sooner than the average specimen.” “Pardon me Mr. Rogers, but FDA will not approve of most steroids that are injected with an animal for purposes of growth. And it is not the best thing for PR at livestock farms.” “That is true Dr. Khan. However, my growth hormone meets the criteria of the FDA. It is nontoxic and does not affect the meat of the animal. And just like Mr. Burk, I’d like to demonstrate this formula so all of you can witness it firsthand.” Ethan picked up a new untouched lab rat. “This is specimen 9. He weighs 396 grams. Once I inject him with the hormone and put him on this treadmill, he will begin to show signs of muscle growth.” Ethan did just that. He took 25ccs of the hormone into the syringe, shot it into specimen 9, and placed him on the treadmill. The rat began scampering across the treadmill. The room anxiously anticipated the rat to grow with minimal results. After 10 minutes of the rat running on the treadmill, there was no visual growth that happened within the rat. Ethan took the rat off the treadmill and placed him on the scale. “Now you probably can’t see it like you could with Mr. Burk’s example, but there was muscle growth within specimen 9. He is currently 409 grams. My hormone is meant to be administered over a longer period of time. I hope to sell this product to the meat manufacturing industry in order to revolutionize how meat is sold and hopefully increase the meat supply.” “That is quite wonderful Mr. Rogers. If you both could leave the room while we make a final decision, but good work, both of you. Even if we do not hire you, each of you have a fulfilling career in the field of biochemistry,” said the head scientist. The two men quickly left the room as the scientists began discussing. “You were great man. That hormone will definitely be a game changer in the meat industry,” said Max as he patted Ethan on the back. “It will, but I messed up my presentation. I was hoping for my demonstration to yield more results like yours did. Your product even cancels the need for food all together. It’s truly incredible,” said Ethan to the smaller man. “Thanks. Hopefully, the research team agrees.” The two of them waited for what felt like an eternity until the receptionist came out again to get them. The pair walked in and stood in front of their respective experiments. “Gentlemen. Both of these experiments are amazing feats of science. But we only have the funding for one new study. So the individual who will be receiving funding is-” A man abruptly cut off the scientist as he barged into the room “Everyone, we must evacuate now! The substance in lab number 6 has become unstabl-” But the man didn’t get the chance to finish. There was an explosion that came from the room next to them. Everything in the room was blasted to the opposite room. Max hit the wall and heard glass break above his head. Liquid poured down his body as a support beam landed on him and knocked him unconscious.

Hello I would like to write a series of stories. Sorry for my poor command of English sometimes. All can be read independently. some of them will perhaps follow one another. Tell me if u should continue, and thank you for your feedback. 1. A new Superhero in the city 2. Ethan and John: - New arrival at school - Ethan nightmare 3. Hicham the paraplegic man A new Superhero in the city Jérôme and Max, a couple of police officers, shared not only their work but also their life. Their relationship had withstood the test of time, becoming a pillar of mutual support. It was a hot summer day, and they had taken a day off to relax and enjoy the sunny weather. Their car trip had taken them on a picturesque road, far away from the concerns of police work. Jérôme, 25 years old, was a tall, blond man, standing at 1.83 meters and weighing 80 kg. His blue eyes reflected his determination to make the world a safer place. Max, his partner and lover, was 23 years old. He stood at 1.78 meters, weighing 75 kg. His blue eyes shone beneath his thick brown hair, and he proudly sported a neatly trimmed short beard. Max harbored a heavy and extraordinary secret, a gift passed down through generations in his family: he was a muscle-wolf. This unique gift allowed him to transform into a powerful bodybuilder of nearly 140 kg, endowed with superhuman strength. However, this transformation was a complex and painful process that involved a series of remarkable physiological changes. As they traveled down the winding road, their peaceful day was abruptly disrupted by the sound of a collision. A woman behind the wheel had crashed into an electrical pole, and her car was on the brink of catching fire. Trapped in the vehicle, the driver was severely injured, and a glimmer of despair filled her eyes. In her state of shock, she was not even aware of their presence. Alarmed, Jérôme immediately grabbed his phone to call for help. He knew that every minute counted in such a critical situation. However, he could sense that time was running out, and the emergency services likely wouldn't arrive in time to save the woman. It was at that moment that Max, with unwavering determination, made a decision that would change the course of their day. He knew it was time to reveal his secret to Jérôme, even if it meant exposing his uniqueness. Max's transformation began slowly, but the process was painful and arduous. His muscles swelled rapidly, and his veins became increasingly visible through his stretched skin. The pain was intense as his clothing's seams strained, ready to burst at any moment. The clothes could no longer contain the extraordinary force that now inhabited Max. His veins pulsed, carrying an increased flow of blood to the rapidly growing muscles. Max's breathing intensified as his lungs worked hard to supply his developing muscles. His once thin arms became massive and powerful, tearing the sleeves of his shirt to shreds. His shoulders broadened, bursting the seams of his shirt, and his chest took on an impressive size. The buttons on his shirt flew in all directions, and scraps of fabric rained down like confetti. Jérôme, initially in shock, was overwhelmed by the incredible transformation unfolding before him. His breathing quickened, and he stuttered, unable to find the words to express his surprise and fear. Max's legs gained size, tearing his pants into pieces. The leather of his shoes burst under the pressure of his growing feet. Each of his muscles became more prominent, creating waves of power throughout his body. During the transformation, his body also became very hairy, with thick and dense hair forming an additional layer of protection and fierceness. The injured woman, in a coma, was unaware of the incredible transformation taking place before her. She had no idea that her fate would be disrupted by a hero with extraordinary powers. Jérôme, astounded and overwhelmed by the situation, abandoned his phone, forgetting about the emergency services. Max, with a voice transformed by the metamorphosis, declared, "Jérôme, it's time for you to know the truth. It's my inherited gift, and I use it to protect others, even at the risk of my own life." The injured woman, in a coma, couldn't hear the conversation. She was oblivious to the hero standing before her. Without further delay, Max used his superhuman strength to clear the wreckage, extract the injured driver, and place her in safety. Flames threatened to spread, but Max acted quickly and decisively, extinguishing the incipient fire and saving the woman's life. Jérôme, astonished, realized that his partner and lover was a genuine hero with an extraordinary gift. Max, exhausted from the superhuman effort, slowly returned to his usual form, breathing heavily, and with his body glistening with sweat. He now stood naked, except for his underwear, as all his other clothes had been destroyed during the transformation. They had succeeded in saving the woman, but now, Jérôme faced a difficult choice: to protect Max's identity and escape before the emergency services arrived, fearing that his secret would be discovered. They discreetly moved away from the accident scene, and Max hid behind a tree, gradually returning to his initial form to avoid drawing the attention of the finally arriving emergency responders. Their future was uncertain, but their love and devotion to each other were stronger than ever as they walked away together to safeguard Max's secret. Their future was uncertain, and the weight of Max's secret hung heavily between them as they walked away from the scene. Jérôme's mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions and questions, but he knew he had to protect Max's identity at all costs. As they found a secluded spot, Max, now back to his usual self, dressed only in his boxer briefs, turned to Jérôme with a mix of anxiety and relief in his eyes. "Jérôme, I know this is a lot to take in," Max began, his voice trembling with uncertainty. "I've kept this secret my whole life, and I've used my abilities to help others, to save lives. But I've never shared this with anyone, until now." Jérôme, still reeling from the shock of witnessing Max's incredible transformation, managed to find his voice. "Max, this is... this is unbelievable. I mean, I've heard of superhero stories, but I never thought..." Max interrupted gently, "I'm no superhero, Jérôme. I'm just a guy who happens to have this unique ability. I've always wanted to protect you, but I also want to protect us." Jérôme's face softened as he looked into Max's eyes, realizing the depth of their connection. "Max, I love you, and I will do everything I can to keep your secret safe. But we need to be careful. We can't risk anyone discovering this." Max nodded, relief washing over him as he pulled Jérôme into a tight embrace. "Thank you, Jérôme. I knew I could trust you." They stood there for a moment, their love stronger than ever, before reality intruded once more. The sound of approaching sirens reminded them of the accident scene they had left behind. "We need to go, Max," Jérôme said, breaking the embrace. "The authorities are arriving. We'll figure out how to deal with this, but for now, let's get away from here." They hurried back to their car and drove away, leaving behind the events that had unraveled their day. As they put distance between themselves and the accident scene, Max couldn't help but think about the fragile balance they had to maintain. He knew that, with Jérôme by his side, they would face the challenges together, and their love would guide them through the uncertainties of their extraordinary life. In the days that followed, Jérôme and Max remained on edge, constantly aware of the secret that now bound them even closer together. They were back on duty, patrolling the city streets, but their lives had taken on a new layer of complexity. Jérôme, true to his word, was determined to protect Max's identity. He used his influence within the police department to ensure that the details of the accident and the mysterious hero who had saved the woman's life were kept under wraps. He knew that any inquiry into Max's abilities could lead to unwanted attention and scrutiny. Meanwhile, Max continued to use his unique gift to help others, always under the cover of darkness and away from prying eyes. He had saved lives and prevented disasters, but his actions left no trace of his involvement. Their love story had taken on an even more profound significance. The unspoken understanding between them, the shared secret, only deepened their connection. They found solace in the safety of their love, a sanctuary amidst the chaos of their extraordinary lives. But as time passed, a new challenge emerged. Rumors of a masked hero with incredible strength began circulating in the city. People started talking about the mysterious savior who seemed to appear out of nowhere, saving lives and averting danger. Max's actions were drawing attention, and Jérôme knew they needed to be even more cautious. One evening, as they sat in their quiet apartment, Jérôme spoke up. "Max, the rumors are spreading like wildfire. We need a plan, a way to protect your identity more effectively." Max nodded, his face etched with concern. "You're right, Jérôme. We can't continue like this, with people getting closer to discovering the truth. But what can we do?" Jérôme thought for a moment and then said, "I have an idea. What if we create a fictional character, a superhero persona, to divert attention from you? We can ensure that this persona is always at the right place at the right time to perform extraordinary feats, while you remain in the shadows." Max considered the suggestion. "It's risky, but it might work. What would we call this fictional hero?" Jérôme smiled, a spark of excitement in his eyes. "How about 'Silver Guardian'? It's mysterious and heroic, just like you." And so, the plan was set into motion. Max would continue to use his abilities to help others, but now, he would do so while disguised as the Silver Guardian. With the help of Jérôme's inside information and connections, they ensured that the Silver Guardian became a legend in the city, a symbol of hope and protection. As the city's residents celebrated the hero in silver, Max and Jérôme kept their secret safe. Their love story had evolved into a tale of two heroes—one hidden in the shadows, the other wearing a silver mask—and together, they would continue to protect the city and their love, forever intertwined in an extraordinary journey.

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, this is what happens when you're too damn clever! Twenty-years ago, I wrote the first two chapters of CYCLE ONE -- each imply a malevolent force behind the creation/ distribution of the sports drink, but who was it? I never answered that question within the text of CYCLE ONE, but while I was writing the original KING REX series a few years later, I playfully connected the two universes, revealing that the secret ingredient in Cycle One was the mystical cum of the super-villain, King Rex. (Here I am twenty-years later trying to crawl out of the mess created by that decision! So, as you will see in the coming story, characters from both "franchises" populate these pages. You don't necessarily need to read both of those stories to understand this one, but... it's kind of fun, in a completest kind of way... (Let me know if you think I succeeded or not. Hope you enjoy!) ******************************************************************************************************* CYCLE ONE: FOUR BACKSTORIES ONE: There’s a mom&pop coffee shop in Ellicott City, MD, that the writer favors, not just for the view and the free wi-fi, but because it’s intimate and quiet -- he can sort his thoughts before he writes without worry of distraction. He leaves his little apartment, walks the steep downhill toward the Patapsco River, and spends his mornings writing at the coffee shop, enjoying the sunrise over the rushing water. He’s a big man, thick and solid -- not at all the build one would expect a writer to have -- but small compared to the bodybuilder that suddenly enters the shop, a very muscular man dressed in tight joggers and matching jacket over a t-shirt that fits him like spandex. The guy moves like he’s not used to the dimensions of his own muscular body. Awkward. The writer has seen this kind of thing before -- although, it’s been long enough that he’s surprised to see it again. It’s possible that the guy has never adjusted to the change, the growth, but that seems unlikely, not after nearly twenty years. This is too fresh. The bodybuilder spots the writer and a small, hopeful expression appears on his face. He crosses to the writer’s corner booth in a few heavy steps. “Sam Bennett?” he asks. The writer sighs and looks up, locking eyes with the bodybuilder. “Can I help you?” he asks. “I sure hope so,” the bodybuilder says. “My name is Ben Fortunato and I’m in desperate need of help.” He indicates the seat on the opposite side of the booth. “May I?” he asks. Sam nods and the big, Italian bodybuilder squeezes into the booth. “Mr. Fortunato…” “Ben.” “Ben... “ The writer draws a breath for strength. “What brings you by?” (He asks in a tone that implies he knows the answer already.) Ben pulls something out of his jacket pocket and sets it on the table between them. A crisp new bottle of CYCLE ONE, a magic potion disguised as a sports drink. There is a growing horror on Sam Bennett’s face as he stares at the bottle. “What the fuck?” he asks. “Are you kidding? Is that real?” He pushes it back toward Ben. “Jesus Christ, do you know what people would DO to you to get that? Put it away before someone sees it!” He looks around, paranoid -- nothing’s amiss, nobody else is even in the room, but it doesn’t stop his panic. “Put it the fuck away!” Ben is confused, but does as he’s told. “I just wanted to prove I was legit.” But Sam didn’t lose his intensity. “You realize people will fucking KILL you for that? You know that, right? There are some crazy motherfuckers out there, Ben -- addicts, all of them! And they will do anything for their drug of choice. Where the fuck did you find that? No, wait, don’t tell me -- I don’t want to know.” “I have a lot more than this one bottle.” Sam Bennett, the writer, takes another breath -- he likes to believe he’d be stronger than this, but it’s right there in the man’s pocket… Sam could just TAKE it… Why is he even entertaining the thought? It’s been nearly twenty years… Does he really still want it that badly…? “Ben,” he asks instead, “do you understand what addiction is?” Ben’s expression is unreadable. “Yeah, I’m getting a pretty good idea…” “Imagine you’re taking a drug that makes lifting better than sex, and sex better than anything. Imagine that you spend a good few years of your life getting other guys hooked on it, turning them into addicts, too. Imagine that you do that for pay -- good pay -- and INCREDIBLE bonuses! And the world is just one powerful playground ripe for the taking. “And then one day, the drug disappears -- it goes out of production, the magic formula is lost, whatever -- new stock isn’t being produced. What’s left is what’s left. “And people go fucking crazy! First, it’s the guys with money -- they try to stockpile it -- the would-be dealers and petty hoarders. There’s fights over it, attacks, takeovers -- guns are always blazing and bodies -- big, muscular bodies -- begin piling up. Gangs form -- safety in numbers, right? -- some become cults, worshipping the drug and the drug’s creator. They isolate, hiding with their horde, fighting to be the last guy with the last drop. It’s the Supply War -- it’s a dark time led by power-hungry addicts. “But there’s another type, too -- another kind of guy, fewer in number, of course. Guys who understand and accept that it’s addiction -- they form support groups specializing in this drug. And there they learn how to navigate their lives without it, without this incredible drug that makes lifting better than sex and sex better than anything. Without it, they don’t get pumps at the gym anymore -- so lifting loses its… magic. No pumps, no good workouts, so bodies… don’t remain in the same condition. They still keep most of the size, but they get softer, saggier. “And of course, sex loses its vibrancy. I mean, what’s the use? You don’t feel attractive, so you stop attracting and pretty soon self-gratification is your only option -- and you don’t feel much like pleasing yourself, either.” He sighs, looking far away. “I know you didn’t come all this way to hear that, Ben,” the writer says, re-establishing eye-contact, “but you should know there are no happy endings when it comes to CYCLE ONE.” Ben speaks quietly. “I’m really sorry,” he says sincerely. “It wasn’t my intent to trigger you. I just wanted to have a conversation with someone who understands and can help me.” The writer does something mildly out of character and lays his hand on Ben’s arm. “Ben, I can connect you with several support groups…” Ben almost laughs. “It’s not that,” he says. “Honestly, I don’t care if I never drink another drop of this shit again! Isn’t that funny? As a kid, I dreamed of having a body like this -- getting a body like this by drinking a magic potion, in fact -- super-hero shit -- and now my life is one big fucking nightmare. No, the problem isn’t with me -- it’s my brother, Glenn. I mean, you wanna talk about addicts…? He’s been on a two-week binge…” Sam Bennett cocks his head curiously. “Two weeks…? How much CYCLE ONE do you have?” They make eye contact and Ben speaks quietly. “About twelve-hundred cases,” he says, waiting for a reaction like he’s revealed a poker hand. But Sam Bennett is silent, immovable -- stunned. “What the fuck..?” he finally whispers. “Do you have any idea how much danger you’re in?” Ben shakes his head -- he’s being misunderstood. “It’s not me, so much, it’s my brother. I need to know how to stop him from drinking it -- like, separating him from it, you know? I just… he’s not listening…” “No, I mean your life is in danger! There are people who will kill you for the bottle you have hidden in your pocket, much less a case!” He forces himself to a whisper again. “And you have a THOUSAND cases!” He shakes his head in disbelief. “You have clearly stumbled across someone’s stash and it’s only a matter of time before they come looking for it -- or for you. This is like mafia-shit, Ben -- I’m totally serious! And just by talking to me, you’re risking my life, too!” There’s a moment when Ben considers continuing this conversation, but then realizes there’s nothing to gain in it. He sighs and stands. “I’m really sorry to have bothered you,” he says, offering his hand. “Thank you for talking to me.” They shake and Sam partially rises. “I’m sorry, too,” he says. “I don’t mean to be so… well, it threw me to see the stuff again… I hope you understand. But I still hope you take my words to heart.” “I will,” Ben says. “There is someone I can connect you with,” Sam says. “He can probably offer a solution for your brother, but, um… I wouldn’t tell him about the stash. I wouldn’t trust him.” Ben nods. “Thank you.” And just as Ben is about to leave the coffee shop into the warm, morning sunshine of Ellicott City, Sam calls him back. “You know, Ben,” he says, swallowing his guilt, “on second thought, I will take that bottle.” Knowingly, Ben nods, smiling slightly in support. The writer doesn’t make eye contact with him, looking shamefully at the floor, broken by his confession, his own addiction. Ben places the bottle on the table and leaves -- he doesn’t see how long it takes for Sam Bennett to touch it. Imagine, lecturing Ben Fortunato on addiction -- or warning an Italian about the mafia! Jesus God, ridiculous! Still, Sam Bennett is right about one thing: there are no happy endings with CYCLE ONE. *********************************************************************************** TWO: “Welcome, brother,” the nearly naked bodybuilder says, wrapping Ben in a hug in the doorway of the church. “I’m glad you’re here.” For Ben, who’s never considered himself gay, this connection is a little too intimate, but there’s a strange masculine pleasure brewing, too. (He can’t help but remember what he and his brother had done when he first…) Fucking CYCLE ONE… “Thank you for meeting me,” Ben says, trying gently to pull away -- the bodybuilder doesn’t just let him. Instead, the moment becomes awkward -- especially when Ben can feel the nearly naked bodybuilder start to get hard in his tiny little thong, pressing against the inside of Ben’s hip. Worse, Ben can feel his own dick start to respond. “The pleasure’s all mine,” the bodybuilder says. “You smell fresh.” Ben breaks the hug and steps back. “Excuse me?” “It’s still in your system, the Cycle One,” the bodybuilder says. “You’ve had it so recently, I can smell it. I’d consider it an honor if you let me have your cum.” Ben is shocked -- speechless. The bodybuilder smiles, adjusting his hooded cape back across his shoulders, slitted open in the front to reveal his pouch. “It’s a sacrament, not sex,” he says. “You ARE new! Come inside and let’s talk -- welcome to the Brotherhood of Rex, the last remaining sect.” He leads Ben into the large, airy cathedral. “I’m Father John J,” the bodybuilder says warmly. “I’ve been the leader of this sect since our Lord plunged into the Multiverse.” They enter the sanctuary, Ben notes the lack of pews and such, just soft matting on lounge chairs set up to face the Altar, a towel on the back of each seat -- the place smells immaculately clean and fresh. He sees that there are superheroes on the stained glass, not religious figures, but he doesn’t have much time to process that as they come upon the altar. Ben swears it’s merely a California King-Size Bed with a black spandex/neoprene fitted sheet, but in this atmosphere, it feels more important. At the head of the bed -- of the altar -- stands a marble statue of a hugely muscled, hyper-masculine god -- an ancient greek statue given a 21st century physique. He’s a handsome man, with strong features and a build that would seem impossible if Ben hadn’t seen what he’s so recently seen. Ridiculously wide shoulders sloping to the tiniest of waists then exploding out again in a sweep of thigh. But that’s if you could NOT get distracted by the statue’s overladen balls and fantasy cock, erect and gently bending up. It’s so lifelike, it’s as if Father John J had poured white paint over a live model who’s eight feet tall and just standing there frozen -- it’s disconcerting. Father John J genuflects before the statue and speaks, looking only at the statue’s face. “This is our Lord and Creator,” he says reverently. “The Living God now lost in the Multiverse, King Rex. I am honored to be among the first he transformed -- I even aided him in the acquisition of Superion, His Majesty’s consort and husband. Pardon my prideful bragging, but there’s a reason I am where I am, and I sincerely doubt you’ve read my resume.” Ben legit smiles -- strange as all this is, he still maintains his humor -- it helps diffuse the anxiety. “No, I haven’t. The truth is I was sent here by Sam Bennett.” “Sam Bennett?” asks Father John J. “That’s a name I haven’t heard in a few years. How’s… um… how’s Sam?” “He seems well,” Ben says, shrugging. “I mean, he was a little surprised to see me and warned me extensively about continuing this journey -- he made it all sound very mafia.” Father John J nods understandingly. “His perspective has always featured a little paranoia -- it’s one of the things that makes his fiction so good. Come, let’s go to my office where we can talk a little more comfortably.” HIs office is surprisingly simple for a religious leader, fairly modern and standard but for another… altar in the back -- this looks more queen-sized than the altar in the sanctuary, same sheeting, though. Father John J directs him to the sitting area by the window and Ben takes one of two comfortable chairs. Father John J removes his cape, draping it across the altar and, dressed only in his golden thong and slippers, takes the other chair. Ben is still awed by the Father’s body, the impossible made flesh. (Nearly as big as his brother…) “I’m sorry,” the Father says. “I’ve been rude. Would you like something to drink? Coffee, water… Cycle One?” Father John J smiles in a teasing way. Ben snorts and unconsciously crosses his arms. “No, thank you,” he says, forcing a smile. “I appreciate you meeting me on such short notice -- time is… important.” Father John J nods. “Tell me what brings you here, Ben.” Ben is thoughtful for a moment, as if he’s debating whether to confess at all, much less to what extent. “You’re safe here,” Father John J says. “You’re Catholic, right? Let’s consider this confessional.” He leans back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head and inadvertently flexing his abs -- not many priests do that. “Thank you,” Ben says, still not at ease, but he sighs audibly and starts his monologue. “My brother and I… purchased a storage lot, three connected units. It was a blind buy, so we had no idea what we were getting, just someone’s abandoned junk, we assumed. It turned out to be a stash of Cycle One. And someone had clearly been living there, guarding it -- hell, one whole unit was a gym for this poor guy, and the next was the living quarters. “So we find this stash of Cycle One -- there’s something… familiar about it in the back of my mind, but I can’t remember what, and my brother drinks one like they haven’t been sitting there twenty years! I mean, like, who the fuck knows what’s really in the bottles and have the preseratives turned to poison or has there been some kind of freaky fermentive process? I mean, he’s fuckin’ CRAZY!” Father John J is thoughtful, curious. He gently asks, “How many bottles were there?” Fortunately, Ben is not so far gone that he doesn’t recognize the ploys of priests -- he WAS an altar boy, after all. He’s deceptive. “Let’s just say, quite a few,” he says, which doesn’t satisfy the Father, but it will have to do. “And he starts exercising, you know, playing around on the gym equipment, feeling all energetic and silly. I immediately blame the Cycle One -- so does he. And he starts slugging them down like it’s a frat party and he’s arrived late. “Because of some… bungling on my part, I ended up getting locked outside with my brother trapped inside and I had to run home to get the tools necessary to free him! It was an incredibly stressful few hours, but I did take the time to do some internet research on Cycle One -- that was how I connected it with King Rex. “I was fifteen, sixteen at the time that all went down, when all the superheroes suddenly became hypermasculine homosexuals -- I had no idea it was connected to Cycle One!” The Father smiles. “The cum of our Lord and Creator, the Living God lost in the Multiverse.” Ben is quiet again, lost in his own thoughts. The Father prods him. “Is your brother still trapped?” “Hmm?” Ben says, coming back to the moment. “No, not anymore. Not by accident.” Father John J tilts his head like an interested dog. “So, I went back. I got tools and I went back to free him. I’d only been gone, like, five, five-and-a-half hours -- it was crazy. I had no idea what Cycle One could do! I mean, I’m trying to free him and from inside he suddenly… rips the sliding door from its track and destroys it and… he’s HUGE! I mean, bigger than you and you’re fucking HUGE!” The Father can’t help but run a hand over his massive torso, and neither of them miss the twitch of his dick. “And he’s dressed the same way as you, in barely nothing, and he’s roaring and flexing and his cock is hard and um… I trip back over a piece of cinderblock and whap my head against the wall and pass out.” He smiles. “Glamorous.” The Father is wise enough to know that he shouldn’t interrupt, but he does offer a comforting smile. “When I wake up, I don’t know how much time has passed, but I discover my brother has chained me to one of the pallets…” “‘ONE of’...?” “Yeah,” Ben says, unthinking, lost in his own story. “And in order to get to the keys, I’d have to be strong enough to drag it across the room.” He swallows. “Only one way to do that.” There is another awkward silence as Ben gathers the strength to continue. “And as if that weren’t enough, he literally sealed me in, cemented the wall with old cinderblocks -- real Edgar Allen Poe shit, you know? He’s crazy, right? I mean… I had to… drink or die. Worse, he’s FILMING the fucking moment, too! So I get to have my humiliation digitally preserved forever. I was so fucking pissed…” The Father reaches over and puts his hand on Ben’s knee. They make eye-contact briefly. “You don’t have to tell me…” “I do,” Ben says. “I need you to know why I need your help.” He places his hand on top of the Father’s -- Father John J adjusts so they can hold hands. Ben is near tears. “You know what the stuff is like,” Ben says quietly. “The way it makes you feel -- the power and the masculine explosion of strength and desire and will. At first, it feels like it’s churning there in your balls, forcing the creation of testosterone, linking sexuality with the spirit, the cock and the muscle. God, I’ve hardly talked about it, because I’m trying so hard not to want it again -- because it’s fucking incredible, that feeling! That like… righteous anger that fills you with the belief… that you’ve gained power -- that you’re somebody!” Even Ben can’t help his cock’s reaction, that twitch of desire -- or memory. “And you feel like you can do anything, like even drag a heavily laden pallet across a cement floor. And if you fail, you just slug back another bottle of the magic potion until it amplifies everything all over again -- but especially the emotion, the masculine connection. It’s like coke, or meth, like that -- this… false sense of power. “Pushing the pallet was easier than pulling it -- it was like hitting sleds at high school football practice -- and the pallet scraped its way slowly across the floor. Each inch it moved was a triumph for me -- I swear, I’d celebrate by downing another bottle of Cycle One, like a fucking addict lost!” “Sounds like a lot of Cycle One,” the Father said, unable to hide his growing erection. “It usually takes only ten-to-twelve to complete the transformation.” Ben scoffs. “I had way more than that,” he says. “Maybe it’s old.” Father John J smiles gently. “Maybe,” he says. “Go on.” “Well, I had to… uh… get through the wall,” Ben says, trying to hide his own hard-on. “My brother had cinderblocked me in, remember.” Father John J shakes his head in disbelief. “Amazing…” “Turns out he had it wrong -- moving the pallet was WAY harder than destroying the wall. The wall was just… a couple of punches and some torn stone. The cement hadn’t really set -- there hadn’t been enough time -- so it wasn’t that difficult to get through. Though, I admit, I did get a couple of scratches and a shit-ton of semi-wet cement in my hair. But right then I was flying so high on the Cycle One, I wasn’t feeling ANYTHING real. “And I break through this wall and I’m feeling mighty and manly and there sits my brother on the cot, jerking off. He’s huge, I mean, bigger than when I’d seen him when he’d torn the door off its track, just… impossibly huge. “And his cock…” Ben almost doesn’t continue, looking down, remembering, then he speaks on. “I never wanted a cock before. I never… desired…” He licks his lips. “And it wasn’t that I wanted his cock so much as I wanted what was inside him -- his essence. His power.” “‘Well, look at you,’ my brother said, playing with himself. ‘You got BIG!’” “And instead of being weirded out by that, I realized he was right -- I HAD gotten big! I hadn’t really paid that much attention. My loose t-shirt was now too tight because of the muscle I’d never had before -- I ripped it off with glee, flexing my big pecs, my insane arms! I was rock hard celebrating my rock hardness! “So, the whole gay incest thing was unexpected -- at least it was for me, maybe Glenn had had some more time wrap his head around it, but I sure hadn’t considered the sexual response. For me, it was all about the Me Big, Me Strong thing -- it wasn’t until I realized that my cock was part of the equation that I got Me Horny, too! “And it just felt so weirdly natural, jerking off with my muscular brother while we flexed for each other. He had me wear this electric blue thong he’d found in the dresser -- I’d never worn anything like it, so scanty and sexy -- but I looked AMAZING in it! My fucking body -- in the mirror, hypnotized by my own reflection, so turned on by myself. “We worked out and pumped up and flexed and he kept pounding back the Cycle One, bottle after bottle. “Pretty soon flexing and jerking off weren’t enough anymore. Men fuck. And um… when my own brother tried to fuck me… that was the end for me. I… I couldn’t.” A tear rolls down Ben’s cheek. Father John J hugs him, drawing him in close. Ben tries not to weep, but loses the battle, hugging Father John J back -- he’s ashamed of his erection. Father John J seems to be okay with it, pressing himself even closer against the hardness. “Everything’s okay,” Father John J whispers. “I will help you with your brother, but first things first.” Using his right hand, he casually strokes Ben’s erection. “Let’s make an offering to God.” ******************************************************************************* THREE: In the Beginning, Rex the Almighty was born on this Earthly plane, a mutant to two normal mortals. His Divine Power manifested as He ascended to manhood -- transforming mortals into His worshipful slaves by granting them muscle mass and a spark of His Hyper-Masculine Energy. Finding himself ready to accept His destiny, our Lord Rex began His Holy Crusade, the elevation of the Super-Hero. Until this time, no one had submitted the Mighty Superion, the greatest of all the mortal heroes. His power and will were legendary, until humbled by our Lord. Rex not only enslaved Superion, He took the hero as His Royal Consort. And unlike most marriages of powerful families, these newlyweds truly and deeply loved one another. This marriage was blessed by the gods themselves. Rex continued His Divine Campaign and recruited the Justice Club itself to His cause -- at one crucial point, He absorbed the mystic lightning used to transform Timmy Thompson into the Planet’s Most-Powerful Protector, Captain Thunder, and Rex was elevated even further, truly becoming KING Rex, the most powerful man on the planet! His Majesty discovered that His ejaculate had been mystically enhanced, as was fitting for a living god -- with little more than a drop, He could transform a mortal man into a hypermuscular slave without using His God-gifted powers. Diluting it, packaging it, and marketing it as the sports drink, “Cycle One” was a stroke of His genius -- it began the subtle transformation of the masses into His worshipful followers. These were the Glory Days of the Church! The Acolyte John J was the first man transformed by His Majesty, King Rex, the Living God. A museum security guard, the skinny waste of a man John J quickly cast aside his old life to follow His Saviour and Transformer. Blessed by the gift of Rex’s power, John J now had the body of his dreams, power he’d only imagined, and finally, a purpose for his purposeless life. He was more than happy to recruit other men into the fold, to help them experience the bliss of worshipping King Rex, their creator and Living God. The Acolytes John J and Sam Bennett distributed the Cycle One, turning gyms into churches and athletic departments into sects. All of that male sexual energy further empowered His Majesty, creating a never-ending cycle of growth. A worship service could have as many as a thousand muscular men cramming the sanctuary, praising His Majesty as they edged themselves into Bliss -- it was possible to actually see King Rex grow from the worship. There was no greater reward. And then, the Great Tragedy -- King Rex lost in the Multiverse! Thus began the Period of Despair -- the Consort Superion went into mourning, completely unable to function or uphold his duties, emotionally devastated to lose his King and lover. For weeks, he remained cloistered in their marital chambers, not seeing visitors, not spending time in the sun -- he weakened, some thought, hoping to die. There was dysfunction in the Church, suddenly lacking a spiritual leader. With their Lord and Saviour trapped in the Multiverse and Superion unwilling to take His place as figurehead, there was nothing to hold the flock together. The men who’d been transformed by His Majesty, the Almighty King Rex, suffered only emotionally. Those who’d been transformed by the Cycle One lost touch with the magic, their masculine spirit. With Rex gone, the supply of Cycle One was suddenly finite -- that was the conclusion many reached at once. The fight for the remaining reserve became the next battlefront. Men who’d been long-addicted to the stuff suddenly lost the will to train, the ability to get a pump, their interest in sex -- they knew they’d never again get that rush, that high without Cycle One. And thus began the Supply War. It was during this low-level, guerilla-style warfare -- bloody and heartless as it was fast becoming -- that the Acolyte John J began to counsel the Consort Superion, trying to get him past his crushing loss to see how badly the world needed a champion again. All this bloodshed, all this death for a drug made out of his husband’s cum -- this is what finally brought Superion to action. In less than a week, he’d recovered most of the lost stock of Cycle One, returning it to the vaulted catacombs in the bedrock deep beneath the Church. He still refused to participate in Religious Services, but created a statue of his Husband and Lord that stands in the Sanctuary today, as a reminder. Instead, it became the Acolyte John J’s mission to save the Church -- but he immediately realized it wasn’t religion these men needed, it was counseling. They were addicts and their god was gone. Without the drug, they were unable to access their own masculine energy. Workouts lost their meaning -- sex became impossible. And thus evolved the practice of Group Masturbation, sexual stimulation with the goal of connecting to the masculine spirit, building energy by edging, the harnessing of energy rather than ejaculation. On Cycle One, sex had always been about power -- now sexual energy was used to build power. Men who were used to getting powerful, rock-hard erections now had to take a step back, relearn stimulation and fantasy, enjoy the other wonders of the body, the taint, the balls, the asshole. Sex was more than penetration. Training changed, too -- the evolution of Connective Bodybuilding, forging a link between cock and muscle. In the Before Time, the gym had become a place almost as sacred as the Church. Cycle One had always made working out better than sex, but now there was no more Cycle One, so no connection to masculine energy. Weight training required almost too much adaptation, further separating those who’d been transformed by the Almighty from those who’d only had the Cycle One. Imagine how disheartening it would be to see some men still achieve the kind of pump you used to be able to get, but now could not -- to lift the kind of weights you used to handle with ease, but now could not. It was too hard for too many. The Acolyte John J -- now FATHER John J -- protectively doled out the Church’s supply of Cycle One in the form of Communion. A shot glass of Cycle One for the faithful once a week, then engaging in Group Masturbation while singing the praises of the Almighty Rex. Many men lost the Path, strayed. Spiritual readiness takes patience and no one began taking Cycle One because they were patient. Some men preferred their misery to the challenge of rebuilding their sexual power. After the deaths, the abandonments, the suicides, there were just a few hundred in the congregation, masturbating together and praying. As the years passed without a Second Coming, more and more fell away -- then it was a decade, then it was two. “And so here we are,” Father John J says, gently pushing Ben to a seated position on the Altar, facing the statue of King Rex. “There’s only a handful of us now, awaiting Him, praying for His return.” He kneels between Ben’s legs and unlaces Ben’s tight joggers. “But we have learned things in this time,” he continues, pulling Ben’s joggers down over his newly-muscled thighs. “Things about pleasure, the giving and receiving of it.” Ben wears a sparkly thong, barely holding his enhanced genitals -- his erection fights the material. “Let me show you,” Father John J says, releasing Ben from the confines of the thong -- his hard-on flops up on his muscular abs. “I’m not gay,” Ben mumbles, leaning back on his elbows, the soft matting of the Altar accepting his weight. “But ever since the Cycle One…” “It’s not about labels, Ben,” the Father says, gripping Ben’s erection at the base. “It’s about pleasure.” He licks the head of Ben’s cock and a shudder goes through the man. “Cycle One just bumps up your hormones and lowers your inhibitions -- neither of which will hurt you, unless it builds up in your system too much. Then you need release. Holy Release.” The Father’s hands are smooth and skilled -- a firm grip on Ben’s balls, thick fingers riding down the sides of his perineum, giving him sensations he’s never felt before -- strange new pleasure. Ben is losing himself in it. “What you feel is a gift,” says the Father, expertly swallowing the whole of Ben’s big new cock. He constricts his throat around Ben and waits for Ben’s natural thrusts before continuing. “A gift from His Majesty,” he says, lapping the tip of Ben’s cock, before descending on it again. “King Rex.” Ben looks up at the statue as the Father continues to work -- it’s unbelievable physique and impossible cock, so masculine and perfect. Ben can feel the Father fingering his asshole, gently teasing his way inside, searching for Ben’s secret button. The statue holds its arms open, as if ready to accept worship -- or orgasm -- or offering. What happens next makes no sense. The Father’s skilled mouth works in tandem with his talented fingers and, just as the Father discovers Ben’s prostate, Ben swears he sees the statue open its eyes and look directly at him, into his soul. “REX!” he screams as his orgasm overwhelms him! Not that the Father lets any get away, but Ben knows there’s a lot of cum -- he can feel it like his cock is a firehose. He shoots and shoots, crying to Heaven, certain the statue is real. “Yes, my brother,” the Father says, lapping Ben’s fading erection, cleaning every delicious drop away. “Now you feel Rex’s power. Give yourself up to it.” “I… I…” “Say it,” the Father says, standing, masturbating his own giant cock. “Let me hear you say it.” Ben smiles. “Hail King Rex,” he says, as the Father allows himself to orgasm, as if the words put him over the edge. “HAIL KING REX!” the Father yells, echoing through the sanctuary, shooting a thick rope of cum across Ben’s face. Father John J smiles again. “You’ve been baptised now in the name of our saviour, King Rex,” he says calmly, milking the last drops of cum from his cock and offering his finger to Ben -- Ben gratefully takes it in his mouth. “You are now one of us.” “Thank you,” Ben says, relieved, watching the Father refit his big package into that tiny little thong. “I actually feel better -- I feel the release. But what do we do now?” “Now we save your brother,” the Father says. “And I know just the guy…” “You’ll do that for me?” Ben asks, suddenly joyful, standing and redressing himself. “Thank you!” “Well,” the Father says, playfully kissing Ben, “we should first discuss a TITHE…” ******************************************************************************** FOUR: Ben parks the truck outside the ETERNAL STORAGE building, an old, abandoned facility scheduled for demolition (to build an Amazon distribution center -- welcome to the modern world). The parking lot is cracked and broken, stray grass and weeds growing wherever they can, reclaiming the land. It’s surrounded by a rusty chain link fence topped with barb wire. The building is in no better shape, holding its form only because it’s made from cinderblocks, but suggesting the same sort of neglect. Behind the wheel, Ben forces a deep breath before exiting the cab, in an attempt to settle himself -- it’s obvious he’s nervous, no matter the supportive talk from his passenger, Father John J. Ben is dressed in the same tight gray jumpers he wore to the Church -- the Father wears black spandex shorts, black wrist gauntlets, sandals, and a form-fitting white t-shirt that reads “REX = KING”. Exiting the cab, the Father, looking around, says, “You’re right. This IS the middle of nowhere.” Ben nods, shutting the driver’s side door behind him and looking toward the building. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “I hope nothing’s happened to him.” “Who?” Father John J asks. “Oh, you mean your brother! I thought you meant…” And then, from out of the sky, a being lands on the ground before them with a surprising amount of force, breaking into the cement and creating a small crater from his weight. It’s the hero Superion! Ben has seen pictures, of course, but has never seen him live -- and the pictures don’t do him anywhere near justice! If he’s not seven-feet tall, then he’s six-and-three-quarters -- it doesn’t seem possible that a being with a build like Superion’s could exist at his height. He’s almost a giant in a children’s story, he’s so colossally large -- human proportions, but so much taller! And the muscle -- the mind-boggling muscle! Like Father John J, Superion has been transformed by King Rex, given the Royal Gift of Mass and Power, Hypermasculine Endowment, and Sexual Realignment. As Royal Consort, he’s second only to Rex Himself -- and with Rex lost in the Multiverse, Superion reigns supreme. He wears black combat boots and bright blue leggings, accented by black piping, that proudly display his oversized package and seem to barely contain the mass of his leg muscles or his thick, ripped glutes. They’re low-waisted, so that the buckle of his belt sits at the base of his cock, allowing us to see his extremely ripped abs unencumbered. Shirtless, he wears only a harness that supports his “S” shield and acts as the anchor for his red cape. Bigger than the biggest bodybuilder, his pecs are round and thick and his pink nipples hide just below the bottom edge. But it’s the width of shoulders that gives Ben pause, those crazy way-larger-than-coconut delts -- bowling ball delts! -- the strong, confident arms, the artistic curve of the lats. And if you can take your eyes from his body, to see his thick neck, his square jaw, his sunny blue eyes, his very kissable lips… Superion strides toward them, breaking Ben’s thought. He smiles, glowing white teeth catching the light. “Hello, Johnny,” he says, opening his arms for a hug. Father John J takes a knee. “Your Majesty,” he says, bowing his head. Superion puts his finger beneath the Father’s chin and raises his head. “Johnny,” he says earnestly, “it’s been twenty years. We have to move on.” He takes Father John J’s hands and raises him to his feet, then they hug. They hold each other very closely -- Ben isn’t sure if Father John J is crying or not. “He will come again,” the Father says, into Superion’s pec. Superion holds the back of Father John J’s head and whispers, “I dearly hope so” into the Father’s ear. He kisses Father John J’s forehead and releases him, turning his attention to Ben. “You must be Ben Fortunato,” he says, holding his hand out to shake. Ben considers dropping to his knees, that’s how strikingly beautiful this man is. Instead, he stammers, “Um… yes. Ben. And you must be… incredible!” Superion smiles broadly -- he’s heard this joke. “Superion,” he says, shaking Ben’s hand. “I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances.” “I’m so grateful for your help,” Ben says. Superion grunts. “Anything to put another one of these fires out,” he says, looking up at the building. Something happens to his eyes as he looks, but Ben can’t say exactly what. “He’s up there,” Superion announces, studying. “He’s okay -- he’s pretty big.” “Thank God he’s okay,” Ben says, crossing himself. “How big?” Father John J interrupts. “Is the Cycle One okay? How much is left?” They both look at the Father dryly. Superion says, “Do you know, Johnny, nothing would make me happier than to destroy this building and all the Cycle One in it -- you know that, right?” The Father squares off with him. “I do,” he says, trying to maintain his bravado. “But you won’t, right?” Superion smiles enigmatically. “I’m gonna go get your brother,” he says to Ben. “I won’t be a minute.” He enters the building and disappears from view. Ben and the Father don’t even have time to begin a conversation before the wall above them blows out, throwing chunks of cinderblock, cement, and bottles of Cycle One raining down like shrapnel as Superion’s body comes crashing through, flying about twenty feet before slamming into the ground. Superion stands, wiping the dust from himself -- with the back of his hand, he strokes the side of his jaw that has just been punched. Superion is clearly unhappy. He strides toward the building, kicking away the stray bottles, determined. “You guys might want to stand back,” he says. “He’s not being cooperative.” Superion flies back into the hole he just made. Seconds later, a different body crashes out through the roof -- not Superion -- a hugely muscled man dressed only in a pair of neon green short shorts that ride into his ass-crack. “For the love of God!” Ben yells. “GLENN!” His brother sails up about thirty or forty feet into the air before arcing down toward the ground. He lands hard on his back with a wind-losing smack. Trying to shake it off and stand, he snorts like an animal. Ben is trying to comprehend what his brother has become. Even in the few days since Ben last saw him, Glenn has grown. His brother had always been a heavy-set, snowman/ pear-shaped guy, wide hips and narrow shoulders. Now he’s a freak bodybuilder with a roidgut that rivals a beach ball, supporting these thick and ponderous limbs. It should be impossible for him to move, given the size of his muscle -- traps that almost keep him from turning his head, a back so wide he can’t lower his arms completely -- yet move he does, with confidence and surprising grace. Superion flies up out of the hole in the roof and lands about ten feet away from Ben’s brother. “Stop!” he commands, holding up a flat palm. But like an angry bull, perhaps egged-on by Superion’s flowing red cape, Glenn charges, gaining steam with each step. It takes little effort for Superion to side-step him, trip him, and force him forward till he slams into the side of the building. Glenn roars in anger, throwing a chunk of broken block at Superion. As Superion knocks it aside, Glenn takes advantage of the distraction and tackles Superion from the side, taking him to the ground. His brother is bigger than Superion! “He’s in a rage!” Father John J says as he and Ben seek a better observation spot, running to the far-side of the building -- Father John tries to grab the extra bottles. “His energy is out of control.” Glenn has Superion in a schoolboy pin, squatting across Superion’s torso, kneeling on his biceps, punching him over and over in the face, raging. “GLENN!” Ben calls, distracting his brother for just a moment, but enough. Glenn looks at Ben and Superion grabs Glenn’s fist, halting it mid-strike. Superion stands, holding Glenn by the wrist, spins him around and around like a lasso, before throwing him to the other side of the parking lot, where he lands with a loud crunch. “This guy’s pretty far gone,” Superion says to Father John J as Glenn starts to charge back across the lot -- a rhino. “Any ideas? I don’t want to hurt him.” “You have to release his pent-up energy,” Father John J frets, shaking his head as Glenn leaps into the air. “You have to…” Glenn lands within their circle and the reverberation knocks them all off their feet. He steps toward Ben, fierce anger filling his eyes, no recognition, but the hard-on beneath his spandex shorts is more than obvious. Before he can strike, however, Superion grabs him from behind in a full-nelson and flies them up about ten feet into the air. Glenn is trying to shake his grip, thrashing about, but he lacks leverage. That he’s sexually stimulated is lost on no one -- his erection throbs. “You have to make him cum!” Father John J yells. “You have to make him release!” Superion’s grimace speaks volumes, but he sighs and reaches around Glenn, grabbing Glenn’s erection at its thick base, rubbing his hand over the spandex material. Glenn reacts in a surprising way, moaning in his deep throat -- his whole drive seems to shift from “rage” to “lust” as easy as the stick on an old jalopy. He starts dry-humping the air, rubbing his ass against Superion. Horrified, Ben can’t look away. Of all the things he didn’t think he’d be seeing today, this had to top the list. On the other hand, his brother had tried to sexually engage Ben after Ben’s transformation, which had freaked Ben out so much he ran away and brought back Superion. And now it looks like Superion is enjoying himself, too -- there’s no hiding what’s going on in his blue leggings. Father John J had said Superion hasn’t had sex since his lover -- this King Rex -- got tossed into the Multiverse. How does someone go twenty years without sex? MONKS don’t even do that! “It’s not enough to jerk him off,” Father John J yells. “You have to... press his button!” Superion’s frustrated reaction weakens his grip on Glenn, who breaks Superion’s hold and suddenly drops to the ground with a heavy, dull thud. Superion is on him in a flash and the two of them wrestle in the parking lot -- but it isn’t to fight. This is different -- it’s two men squaring off. This is foreplay. Other than size, Glenn has no real advantage over Superion. And now that Superion has a new drive, there’s really no stopping him. Superion is erect himself, his cock as supremely out of proportion as everything else about him -- whatever else this Rex favors, it’s big-dicked muscle-bottoms. They flex at each other, Superion and Ben’s brother, a Most Muscular, an ab/ thigh -- showing off, mutual worship -- double biceps, erections straining flimsy material. Glenn smacks Superion’s pecs with an open hand, then squeezes the muscle as Superion flexes -- fucking rock hard -- punching cement. Looking each other in the eye, Glenn falls to his knees and begins mouthing Superion’s cock through the heavy spandex of Superion’s leggings. Superion unclasps his belt and releases it, allowing Glenn to take it in his mouth. Clearly at some level, Glenn knows what he needs. Or what he wants. “Get it wet,” Superion orders him. “Get it good and wet -- or it’s gonna hurt.” “What’s going on?” Ben asks Father John J as the Father collects stray bottles of Cycle One. Father John J looks at Superion, then at Ben. “He’s going to fuck him,” Father John J says. “He’s gotta fuck him and press his button, release the energy. Same as I did with you at the Church!” Ben crosses himself. “But you just used your fingers,” Ben says. “Why does he have to…?” Father John J shushes him. Glenn holds Superion’s cock in his fist and spits on the head, immediately putting it back in his mouth, soaking the thick, super-shaft. Superion pushes him onto his back, straddling Glenn’s chest to allow Glenn to continue sucking his cock, but putting Superion into a dominant position. Superion licks his fingers and reaches for Glenn’s hole -- so tight -- Glenn squirms, discovering a new sensation. “Yeah,” Superion says. “Big boy likes that.” “All Hail His Majesty’s Consort, the Mighty Superion,” Father John J intones, falling to his knees with an armful of bottles. “All praise King Rex!” Superion shoots Father John J a snide look. “Don’t do that shit, Johnny,” he says. “This is pragmatism, not Church! Toss me a bottle of that stuff!” “It IS Church!” Father John J argues, still on his knees. “You engage in the holiest of acts, a sacrifice -- an offering! I must pray!” Superion shakes his head but doesn’t argue. “Throw me a bottle of that stuff!” he says again. Father John J won’t release what he’s gathered, so it’s Ben who throws one to him -- or overthrows, actually -- he doesn’t know his own strength. Superion catches it with such confidence and ease that it makes it look like it had been intended that way. Superion cracks open the Cycle One, sniffs it -- a memory floats across his features -- and he pours a tiny bit over his cock, into Glenn’s desperate mouth. Glenn groans again, desperately lapping it off. Superion pulls his cock out of Glenn’s mouth and says, “On your hands and knees -- NOW.” He levitates slightly, allowing the three-hundred-plus giant to spin beneath him -- moving from one submissive pose to the next -- then he slowly pours the Cycle One down Glenn’s ass-crack, until it reaches the fingers Superion has against Glenn’s hole. Using the honey-thick Cycle One as lube, Superion pushes his fingers in. Glenn’s moan is a roar that can be heard for miles. “Bigger than that coming,” Superion says, pushing his fingers in and out. Father John J weaves while he prays. “We commend this energy to you, Great Lord, lost in the Multiverse, that it might find you and strengthen you for your journey home!” Superion yells. “Johnny, please!” as he pours the Cycle One on his hard cock, like sauce on a meaty rib. “Just let me do what I came here to do!” “Release it!” Father John J prays. “Give it back to the Master!” Superion slams his foot-long cock into Glenn’s waiting ass -- they both scream, both of them from a different sort of denial, but coming together here in this parking lot. Has there been a change in the light? Ben wonders, unable to take his eyes away from his brother’s submission. Where did this wind come from? “Can you feel it?” Father John J shouts. “CAN YOU FEEL THE MASTER?” Superion begins fucking Ben’s brother, doggie-style, gently at first, even then, barely keeping control of himself -- it’s been so long, Superion -- but then, even Glenn wants him to go harder, pushing his ass back into Superion’s cock, trying to form words. Trying to find his own button. And there’s something else around Superion, something familiar, whispering in his memory, filling him with strength and power -- a masculine spirit. Making him fuck -- forcing him to connect and dominate. It feels like his husband… Is he feeling the effects of Cycle One? He releases -- who fucking cares? Fuck -- Superion wants to fuck. He drives into Glenn’s ass, fucking so hard they break the pavement. It’s power and forgotten masculine urges, decades of repression. “CAN YOU FEEL IT?” Father John J yells above the din, the wind, the energy. “PRAY WITH ME! PRAY TO OUR LORD, LOST IN THE MULTIVERSE!” Superion fucks Glenn with his super-long cock, pounding a forgotten, manly rhythm in his loin, awakening something deep within him. The energy crackles like lightning around them. Ben falls to his knees, his legs weak -- what is he seeing? They’re fucking there in the broken parking lot, his brother and Superion, it’s broad daylight, but there’s a sense of darkness around them, reality seems to shift as their sexual energy grows. Superion groans. “I’m so close…” Glenn rises up on his knees, exposing own erection that rises exactly along the curve of his distended belly, almost to his navel. Glenn is flexing his arms in a double bis -- Superion uses them as anchors, deep-thrusting. “Gonna… cum…” “WE CALL ON THEE, GREAT LORD! WE GRANT THEE THIS OFFERING!” Superion, a being that hasn’t orgasmed in nearly two decades, shoots his almost impossible load -- Glenn, who has never anally-orgasmed, explodes with incredible pent-up masculine energy, his “overdose” on Cycle One, and climaxes simultaneously. They scream together, too, full-throated and deep. There’s an explosion -- well, something very much like one. It’s like nothing Ben has ever experienced before. There’s no sound, no BOOM -- it’s almost as if someone takes reality, twists it, and then releases it to snap back into place. The explosion -- if one can call it an explosion -- is energy, electricity and force, concussive and multi-layered. There is a soundless brightness that blows them all back -- Ben’s back slams into the wall of the Eternal building, cracking the brick. There’s a hissing in the background, like pink noise, that settles out of the silence -- and then Ben’s hearing comes back. Or reality comes back -- it’s hard to say. His brother Glenn’s body slams on the ground before him, steaming a little, digging up the asphalt a little more. He rolls over on his back directly in front of Ben. “GLENN!” Ben calls, scrambling over to his brother. He slaps his face. “Glenn, wake up! Oh, God… Oh, sweet God be okay.” Glenn comes to, a little disoriented -- the crazed, drug-addled look in his eye is gone. “Ben?” he asks, looking Ben in the eye. “What’s going on? I… Bro… what happened? You’re huge! Wait, I’M huge!” Ben chuckles. “It’s a long story,” he says, nearly in tears. “And I don’t think it’s over yet…” Both Superion and Father John J had been knocked back, too, in opposite directions. Superion is already recovering, steaming himself, studying the blast area. The spot where they’d cum is now a blown out pit, smoke and steam and electric crackles encircling it. Superion immediately checks on the others, locating and diagnosing their injuries -- bumps and bruises, but generally okay -- when he hears a moan come from the pit itself. What? How is that possible? Father John J hears the sound as well, and draws up onto his knees like a hopeful teen. As Superion stands on shaky feet, the figure in the pit finds his footing, too, his face hidden by the steam, the unnatural shadow, and electrical snaps. He is a giant of man, bigger than Superion, more powerful, more muscular. His god-given body beyond fantasy, his muscle on the edge of impossible. In his purple shorts with the gold piping, the golden boots and gauntlets, the simple over the shoulder cape and the electric-metal lightning bolt emblazoned on his chest, he is instantly recognizable. Especially to Superion. “Rex…?” he asks, a smile finding the corner of his mouth. “Is it really you?” The muscle god smiles. “Superion?” he asks. “Am I home? Am I finally home?” They fall into each other’s arms, laughing and kissing, relieved and amazed. Even Ben smiles, happy that there’s a happy ending with Cycle One for once. Glenn, confused, asks his tearful brother, “What’s happening…?” He’s answered by Father John J. “It is the return of His Majesty, Rex the Almighty!” Rex and Superion continue to kiss, flying up into the air together. Father John J opens his arms to the world. “IT IS THE SECOND COMING!” **************************************************************************************** EPILOGUE: “Hey everybody, this is Glenn!” “And this is Ben!” “We’re the Fortunato Brothers! And you’re watching another episode of ‘Can You Believe They Bought That Shit?’” TITLE -- THEME MUSIC “In this episode, we’re actually gonna be talking about SELLING shit for a change.” “Hey! Before we go on... Viewers, did you notice our new logo in the opening?” (CUTAWAY: the old logo, the Fortunato Brothers looking like cartoon Laurel & Hardy (one fat, one thin) fades to the new logo: Laurel & Hardy as bodybuilders, one arm wrapped around their brother and the other flexing their biceps. (CUT BACK to the live Brothers in the same pose as the logo, barely holding their laughter.) “If you’ve noticed we look a little different than we have in past episodes, but you don’t know why, it’s possible you missed our TRANSFORMATION SPECIAL that dropped a couple weeks ago.” “I don’t know, Ben. With over two-hundred million downloads, I don’t think many people have missed out TRANSFORMATION SPECIAL!” “It’s still available if you have, that’s all I’m saying…” “But what you HAVEN’T missed is what transformed us into this muscled perfection, the awesome sports drink CYCLE ONE!” Glenn reveals a bottle in frame, holding it for the camera to see -- plain, ordinary looking stuff for what it could do. “It took about a dozen of these to transform my skinny brother Ben there into THAT!” Ben flexes for the camera, his muscle pumped, his confidence high. “No lie,” Ben says. “Believe me, I would never have done this without CYCLE ONE -- I was too lazy and too weak. Not anymore.” Glenn wraps his massive arm around Ben’s neck and pulls him close -- he kisses the side of Ben’s head. “Isn’t he cute?” Glenn asks. “So, we’re doin’ something we don’t normally do: we’re selling some shit. CYCLE ONE, to be specific. You can get to my brother’s size with a twelve-pack -- you can get to mine with a case!” The brothers flex for the camera -- the spandex shirts they wear ripple with muscle. “We haven’t even talked about the biggest bonus!” Glenn continues to flex for the camera. “Tell ‘em, Ben!” “When you go to the bidding page, click the link to join King Rex’s Holy Order and be a Knight for His Majesty, the power behind Cycle One, the Living God, King Rex, once lost in the Multiverse but now found! Be His Knight, His Holy Warrior, and join the Crusade in His second coming!” Glenn laughs. “Geez, Ben, you sound like a fanboy!” Ben is sincere. “I witnessed God’s Second Coming, Glenn,” Ben says simply. “That kind of thing… changes a man…” ************************************************************************************* Sam Bennett pauses the video. He’s watched it a thousand times -- he knows what it says by heart, by now. Still, it’s the first thing to give him an erection in almost a decade. How should he feel about that? He presses Play. “...sound like a fanboy.” “I witnessed God’s Second Coming, Glenn. That kind of thing… changes a man…” Pause. Not really believing he’s doing it, but somehow certain it’s the right move, Sam Bennett presses the link to join the Knighthood, the Holy Order of King Rex. He does it because he wants to believe in Happy Endings.

Here’s an old story I pulled from the archives and recently updated I am working on a few ones. Happy to get comments back here or in PMs especially if you want to see more. I write about superheroes, peplum, magic, muscle growth & theft, & superhero fights & destruction. Btw I noticed the apostrophes and quotes changed to another character in the paste I’ll try to fix that next time. Maciste and the Muscle Demon Maciste after much effort disposed of the muscular warriors who were guarding the path to the cave that was the home to the demon. These guards would have been more than a match for any attacking force. Even the powerful Maciste had to struggle against them. They were men from the village who had been transformed into the demonÕs worshippers. Maciste did not harm the men, only knocked them unconscious. The women of the village had called Maciste to save their men from the demon. Several months ago the village miners had unearthed an ancient tomb deep inside the mountain. But it wasnÕt really a tomb. It was a jail for a demon whom the Ancients had encapsulated in stone there when the human race was young. Once released from his confinement, the demon slowly enslaved the men the village. The men abandoned their village, wives and their children, only to serve the sexual desires of the demon. The women had called upon Maciste to come and rescue their men from the enchantment. With the help of an old wizard, Maciste had obtained a magical, silver dagger with which he could kill the demon and vanquish him from the dimension of earth. As he reached the cave, he saw something in the brush next to the entrance. He paused to look. There was the body of a young man, but it was merely skin and bones on a body as if it had been starved of food. His eyes were still open and his hallowed cheeks and mouth frozen open as if he were still screaming. Maciste put his hands over the young manÕs eyes and closed them. ÒDonÕt worry, son, I will avenge you,Ó he said to the body and he entered the cave. Maciste walked slowly and surreptitiously through the cave hugging the stonewall looking for additional guards. At the end of the passageway, he came to the entry of a large hollowed room. There at the far end were torches on either side of a stone throne. In it sat the demon . ÒI know you are there, Maciste. Welcome,Ó he said. ÒCome closer so we can get a good look at each other. His hiding exposed, Maciste walked closer to the demon and came within 20 feet of him. He stared at the demon. The demon had the body of a tall, lean muscular man with broad shoulders and long dark wavy hair that reached his shoulders. His skin was light brown and he wore nothing but a small loincloth that barely covered his large member. ÒYou stare, Maciste. Do you like this human form that I have chosen? It suits my needs. But you are quite an impressive specimen of manhood yourself, Ó said the demon as he admired MacisteÕs larger and leaner muscular physique. The demon was hungry. “Enough of this,Ó Maciste shouted. ÒRelease these men of the village now from your spells, and I will not harm you!” The demon laughed at the demand. ÒI am sure you are quite formidable. But you are going to meet a challenger whom I think you will find most extraordinary. His name is Sarkus.Ó From the shadows off to the side of the stone throne, a blonde, bronzed man stepped into the torchlight. MacisteÕs eyes turned to the foe. He was the same height and build as Maciste, about 6’ 2” with broad bulbous shoulders that tapered to a 32- inch waist and etched abs. But he had about 20 pounds of more muscle than Maciste had on the same frame. Sarkus smiled confidently at Maciste and slowly raised his right arm and flexed. SarkusÕs right bicep rose and rose and rose. His arm peaked at 22 inches, almost two inches bigger than the village womenÕs hero. “Yes, you see Maciste. Sarkus was the strongest and largest warrior in this village until he joined me. And with the gifts I have bestowed on him, he is now the strongest man in the world! Oh, IÕm sorry. DidnÕt that used to be your title?Ó snickered the demon. ÒI have defeated larger opponents in the past,Ó Maciste answered confidently. ÒSarkus will be no different.” “Well then, Sarkus, why donÕt you dethrone Maciste from his title officially?” Sarkus strode toward the hero. Maciste pulled the magic dagger from its sheath in his belt and lunged toward his larger twin. He planned to push Sarkus aside and head toward to the demon himself. But Sarkus was fast for his size and he quickly stopped MacisteÕs advance. He grabbed MacisteÕs left arm that held dagger and then his right. The two muscle giants were locked hand to hand in a contest of pure strength. As each one pressed upon the other and seemed to gain an inch, his opponent pushed back and recovered the lost ground. The struggle went on and on. Sarkus focused his right grip, which was his stronger side, on MacisteÕs left wrist. His hand pressed like a vise attempting to force Maciste to drop the dagger. Maciste resisted but his wrist contained little direct muscular power to resist the powerful vise. Eventually his wrist gave way and the dagger fell from his hand whereupon Sarkus kicked it toward the edge of the darkness of the chamber. With the dropping of the weapon, Maciste was freer to force back SarkusÕs hand and once again the titans were locked in what seemed like an unending test of strength. “Surprised, Maciste?” taunted the demon. “Never felt this kind of power before, have you? I knew when I made SarkusÕs muscles larger, they would with my help become more powerful than yours!” Yes, Maciste was surprised. No man, no matter how large, had been able to match Maciste in power for this long. A small seed of doubt began to grow in MacisteÕs mind, and where there is doubt, there is weakness. In a battle of near equals, doubt can make a difference. As doubt began to swirl in MacisteÕs mind, the endurance of his powerful muscles began to weaken. As Sarkus pushed, Maciste could no longer recover the lost ground. Sarkus noticed this; his confidence grew and with confidence comes more strength into the body. That confidence made Sarkus push even harder than he ever had before, further weakening Maciste and pushing him back further and down. Maciste looked into the burning brown eyes of this opponent who was slowly overpowering him. Then in those eyes he saw the face of SarkusÕs wife calling Maciste to help her. “Sarkus, think of your wife and children,” Maciste said. Sarkus almost seemed to pause. That gave Maciste an opportunity. Using the force that Sarkus was himself applying, Maciste added his own and pulled both himself and Sarkus backwards. As MacisteÕs back hit the floor, he lifted his feet onto the washboard abdomen of his foe and propelled him backward with such a force that Sarkus was body slammed against the cavityÕs stonewall. His foe fell to the floor unconscious. Maciste leaped to his feet and faced the demon who rose from his chair and slowly approached him, clapping. Maciste needed to stall. He needed to find the dagger on the cave floor. His eyes scanned for it while trying to be watchful of the demon. “Very good, Maciste. You have lived up to your reputation.” The demon and the hero circled each other as they spoke. Unknown to Maciste, the demonÕ s breath contained a chemical that acted like a narcotic that weakened a humanÕs will. As he scanned for the dagger, Maciste decided to engage the demon. “Now release these men before itÕs too late,” Maciste threatened. Again the demon laughed. “Did you know, Maciste, that each one of these men joined me willingly? Yes, each one wanted to be manlier and more powerful, for their women, for their place in their village, for their work. So I gave them the strength and the physiques they dreamed about. As each one saw what I had given them, more came to me asking for the same thing! Their own lack of self worth turned them to me.” ”But you enchanted them. They rejected their wives, and left their families to become your slave.” Maciste ‘s tone was no longer angry like previously. He seemed to become calm as the demonÕs breath began to take effect on him. Then he spotted a flicker of light off the silver dagger on the floor. The two continued to circle each other as they talked but Maciste stopped when he reached the spot where he saw the flicker. “Ha! How little you know! These men asked for the physical gifts I gave them. In exchange, I asked for their love. They experienced an ecstasy with me that their wives could never provide them. Once they tasted my pleasure, no women could satisfy them again. From their love, I grew even more powerful.” ”You care nothing of these men, their village or their families,” Maciste said with conviction. His heart rate was slowing. “In fact, I care for and know them quiet well,” answered the demon. “I even know you, Maciste, better than you do. I know your character. Yes, you are good and true but I know what moves you?” “You know nothing about me.” Maciste began to feel lightheaded. His heart was no longer racing. He began to think about his timing. He needed to step back and reach for the dagger and plunge it into the demon but he needed to lull the demon into thinking he was not a threat. The demonÕs breath though was distracting his concentration. “Oh but I do. You see, your conviction, your courage, your confidence, your goodness, your steadfastness comes not from your inner nature. It comes from your strength, your looks and your body. Without them, your nature is just as weak as everyone elseÕs. I can enhance that body for you” Maciste stepped back and his left foot stepped on the blade of the dagger. He was not ready though. His mind was cloudy and relaxed and he listened to the demon further. “Let me show you. Curl your right arm for me and show me that beautiful manliness of your arm.” Now was the time for Maciste to reach for the dagger but he was confused and susceptible. He secretly enjoyed showing off his physique to the women he slept with and he wanted to show it off now. He did as the demon suggested and raise his arm showing off his 20 inch peaked tan bicep. “Yes, look at it Maciste.”Maciste stared at it. “Oh , it is so beautiful,” said the demon. “Now squeeze it a little harder and watch it!” As Maciste flexed more, he watched his bicep began to grow larger and larger till it was 23 inches. MacisteÕs eyes opened wide. “Yes, I have made it even more beautiful. Now kiss it.” Maciste continued to stare at his right gun and the veins and striations that ran across it. Never had it been that pumped. The demon gently touched the back of MacisteÕs head, pushing his face toward his bicep until MacisteÕs lips reached it and then hesitantly kissed it. “Yes, itÕs beautiful, isnÕt it?” the demon repeated. “Join me, Maciste, love me, and that bicep will be yours forever.” Maciste pondered those words as he continued to stare at his incredible masculine arm. Then from the place where Sarkus was lying, came a moan as Sarkus began to wake up, pressing himself off the floor with his inverted V triceps. Maciste turned his head toward Sarkus. That distraction was enough to break the mesmerizing moment for Maciste. He pushed the demon back and shouted “No. Never!” The demon was surprised but not alarmed. He stepped further back from his prey. “So Maciste. You have chosen. But as I said, who you are comes from that physique of yours. Without it, you are no hero, no moral guardian. You are no better nor more valorous than others, may be even weaker than most.” Maciste stood watching the demon as he spoke. His mind was so dazed, he did not know what to do though the dagger lay at his feet. “Where shall we start? LetÕs start with those arms of yours. Every man notices first another manÕs arm muscles. What if those arms suddenly shrunk and turned to flab?Ó Maciste looked at his right arm. Gone were the leanness, the veins, the bulbous delts, the defined biceps and triceps. Replaced with a mound of flab, straight and smooth and hanging off his arm. “No,” shouted Maciste. By now, Sarkus was standing behind the demon watching MacisteÕs transformation. “And how about those powerful legs of yours that propelled my Sarkus?” As the demon spoke, MacisteÕs defined muscular quads and calves muscles shrunk to bone and flab. “My legs!” He shouted as the demon laughed. ”Let’s turn that six pack into a bowl of jelly.” Our hero’s incredible abdominal armor flattened and disappeared into a small belly of fat. ”No, stop!” He reached and touched his now soft, cushiony stomach. ”And of course, those rounded striated pecs of yours.” His impressive domed pecs deflated and drooped. His once taunt nipples puffed out. His chest looked like old man bitch tits in need of a bra. “No, my chest! My power! My strength! What have you done to me! Give it back to me! Give it back!” he shouted. Maciste fell to his knees and he placed his hands on his now hanging man boobs. Whereas before he had felt his strong hard pec muscles, now he felt only softness like a womanÕs breast. That feeling was too much for him. “So Maciste, where is that confidence? Where is that goodness of yours? Where is that bravery?” The demon laughed. Sarkus smiled. Maciste then felt the dagger at his ankle. He reached down and grabbed it. He quickly jumped up and pointed the dagger at the demon, staring him in the eyes. “Stop, Maciste. If you strike me with that dagger, your present form will become permanent. You will never become the man you were.” Suddenly Maciste froze. Could the demonÕs words be true? Could he kill the demon but be trapped without his strength, power and physique? He had to kill him. He had to save the others. He must do it. He looked down at his fatty chest and his bulging belly. Maciste let go of the knife and it fell to the floor with a clang. He dropped his head to his chest and whispered, I will do what you want so long as you change me back.” The demon laughed. He picked up the dagger and handed it to Sarkus and said, “Destroy it..” Sarkus took the dagger into his hands and began to bend it, breaking it in two. The demon walked around Maciste as he spoke to him. “So our hero wasnÕt really the hero was he? Yes, it was easy before, wasnÕt it, Maciste? You were stronger than everyone, you were more powerful than everyone, you were handsome, you had that physique of yours that every man was jealous of and every woman loved. It was easy to be brave! It was easy to be righteous! It was easy to sacrifice and do the right thing! Because you never had to sacrifice, did you? But now with all that gone, itÕs hard, isnÕt it? In fact, for you, it was too hard. You couldnÕt do it without your power, your strength, your beauty. You were in fact all this time, weak inside. Weak where it counted. Not so wonderful and godlike as everyone thought!” Maciste head was bowed. His wide but now smoothed shoulders slumped forward. He realized all the demon said was true. It was easy for him to be good when he was so powerful. He could never fail. Tears began to well in his eyes. “I’ve agreed to do as you wish, now change me back,” whispered the broken former muscleman. “Give me back my strength,” he hesitated, “please..” ”Go into that room over there and sit on the floor,” said the demon pointing at an opening at the far end of the chamber. “Wait for me there!” he ordered. Two other muscular henchmen escorted Maciste out the large chamber. The demon turned toward the room and Sarkus grabbed his sinewy arm. “ Master,” he said, “please give him to me. Let me have him.” “No,” he replied, grabbing SarkusÕs arm and quickly removing it from his. “His power and strength are enormous. Unlike any I have felt before. I must have it for myself. I do not have much time. I found a weakness in his mind and my little transformation trick will not last long. I must move quickly before he realizes he lost his size but not his great strength.” Maciste entered the room and sat down on the black bear skin rug that covered the stone floor. As he sat, he looked down at his chest. There hung two sacks of fat looking like udders where his massive tight rounded pecs once were. He began to weep. He thought as soon as his strength was restored, he would crush the demonÕs head with it. But he needed to cooperate with the demon for his plan to work. The demon entered the small room alone and stood in front of the weeping Maciste.”So Maciste, do you miss your power? Do you miss your muscles?” “Yes, “ the once confident hero whimpered. “I want them back. I need them. What do you want from me?” ”If I give them back, will you promise to keave this area and never come back?” ”Yes, I will do as you wish,” said the defeated hero. “ I will restore them then But during the spell you must give yourself utterly to me. With all your will and with all your heart. ” I donÕt know if I can,” he said. “You must if you want the magic to change you back. Or do you prefer a chest like this?” And the demon took his hands and lifted each sagging pecs of Maciste and let them fall back onto the warriorÕs chest. Maciste wiped the tears from his face. He knew he had no choice. “.I'll try as you wish.” And his chin sunk lower onto this chest, hoping his moment for revenge would come soon. ”First, you must drink.” The demon knelt in front of the hero and began to massage his own powerful left pec. Maciste raised his head and watched. As the demon pressed into the pec, the pec began to swell. It quickly became bloated and the nipple, once tight, was now puffy. The demon lifted the tumescent chest muscle with his left hand, leaned toward Maciste and with his right hand behind the heroÕs head brought MacisteÕs mouth to the demonÕs nipple and said, “Now drink this milk from me.” Reluctantly, Maciste began to suck as commanded. The milk was both sweet and sour, neither foul nor refreshing. The demonÕs head and eyes looked toward the ceiling as he enjoyed the heroÕs mouth on his areola. Maciste drank until the pec was no longer inflated and had returned to its original shape. ”Now onto your hands and knees, Maciste,”ordered the demon. The warrior complied. Maciste looked down and saw his pecs hanging off his chest with his nipples pointing to the rug like small udders. His pecs no longer grew like cliffs from his sternum. More tears flowed into his eyes. “I must do this,” he angrily said to himself. “I must get my body back and then I will take care of this demon.” Though he was angry, he began to feel a sense of calm, not realizing the DemonÕs pec milk was having a soothing effect on him. The demon ripped MacisteÕs loincloth from him and the warrior was now totally naked. The demon knelt beside MacisteÕs torso and rubbed his hands together. As he rubbed, his pores began to open up and secreted a special whitish oil. The demon began to massage the oil into the warriorÕs smooth back and shoulders. As the demon rubbed, the warriorÕs delts, lats, traps and rhomboids began to grow and reappear. The oil and the rubbing created a warming sensation in Maciste. As the demon rubbed, the warming sensation had a further soothing effect on the warrior. His mind began to feel at ease and adrift either from the warmth or the demon milk or both. Maciste did not know which, but more important, he did not care. He tried to stay angry but began to yearn for the stress relief it provided. That comfort gradually led to feelings of pleasure. He began to enjoy the massage the demon was giving him. The demon extended the massage to the heroÕs sagging glutes. The fattiness of his glutes began to melt away and was replaced with hard firming muscle. He could feel his back and glute muscles growing and tightening. “Yes,” he said to himself, “ My power will be back soon, and I will slay this devil.” Soon his buttocks were muscular and round like they were before. Maciste knew his strength must be returning. These feelings of warmth, pleasure and strength began to spread down his legs and to his arms and chest from his back and butt. More skin and fat retreated across his body, and he could see his chest filling again with muscle. A battle of anger against the demon and the pleasurable feelings battled in his mind and his thoughts flowed back and forth between the two. “How are you feeling, Maciste. Do you want more muscle back?”asked the demon. “Yes,yes” he said, “more.” The demon began to massage the warriorÕs legs and arms and to work the palm secretions into the warriorÕs butt hole. This was a sensation the strongman had never felt before for no man had entered there. A corner of his mind resisted but other parts said no, he must allow it to regain his strength and get his revenge. By now, MacisteÕs mind was entering a daze. All he felt was pleasure. His anger faded even more into a mental whisper. He could see and feel his muscles returning. He lifted his hand off the floor to touch his right pec to feel the hardness and his pec cliffs returning. He thought it was almost time to turn on the demon, but the pleasure was so overwhelming and calming. He paused and thought he must wait till he knew his strength was fully restored. Besides surely the pleasure would subside by then. His member began to swell. “Now, Maciste, it is time to complete your transformation back,” smiled the demon. The demon removed his own loincloth to reveal an organ unlike any human maleÕs. It was long, covered with large pores with smooth but hard edges that encircled the shaft. The demon began to rub it and it swelled to over 12 inches quickly. A black gel began to ooze from the pores on the head and sides once it stiffened. The demon inserted his organ into the dazed strongman. Maciste winced and cried, “Agggh” for nothing had entered butt hole before. There was pain but the gel though smoothed that away. As the demon began to pump the strongman , the secretions eased the rubbing and surged into MacisteÕs body. Volumes and volumes were released with each breeding thrust so much so that Maciste muscled belly began to distend like a time lapsed pregnancy. The black ooze travelled everywhere, to every muscle and to his brain. With each thrust, the demonÕs member vibrated, flooding new sensations into the warriorÕs mind. MacisteÕs member quickly engorged and grew stiff. “Now say it, Maciste, say ‘I am yours, master,’” said the demon. “Agree to give yourself to me.” Even with the pleasure overflowing his mind, Maciste hesitated. The hero though then looked at his arms and as the demon pumped. He admired his muscular beauty. His muscle and vascularity had returned. His member was now taller and tighter than it had ever been. A small voice in his head said he must turn and attack now. “Now say it, Maciste. Say ‘I am yours, master,’” ordered the demon as the pounding sent waves of euphoria through MacisteÕs brain and further filling the heroÕs enlarged belly with more magical ooze. “I, I” Maciste repeated, but his mind was full of conflicting voices and still resisted. The secretions from the demon were transforming not only his body but his mind as well. His anger was gone and his warriorÕs will was weakening. “Now say it. Feel the hardness of your muscles, Maciste. You know you want them. Say you are mine. Otherwise your strength will be lost forever and you will lose the physique that I have returned to you. SAY IT!” His anger growing with impatience. “This is taking too long,” thought the demon. As the thrusts continued, the highs and lows of the euphoria leveled out. Maciste entered a dream state of bliss. He hardly noticed the thrusting anymore and could barely hear the demonÕs voice which sounded faint and muffled in the new state his mind was in. He lifted his left arm and moved his hand across his chest crevice resting it on his right pec. He looked down at it. It felt hard and it showed striations as he flexed it. Touching his hard muscle magnified the pleasure feelings even more. His finger grazed his right nipple and a spike of orgasm flooded his brain. His member began to ache for release. “Do you want your muscles or not?” shouted the demon as he pressed faster and harder into the restored muscleman. “SAY it!” the demon shouted again. Maciste looked again at his restored chest keeping his hand pressing against his hard muscle. Inside his brain, a faint voice called to what remained of his willpower, “Turn now and strike him” a faint voice whispered in his head. As he began to turn his torso and arm toward the demon, his voice whispered “I am yours, master.” Maciste then climaxed with such force that he was close to fainting. His seed shot copiously onto the rug. “Yes!” shouted the demon as he looked toward the caveÕs ceiling in victory. “Give me your power!” he called out hitting his fists on his chest as he continued to breed the muscleman whose belly was so distended full of the demon’s black cum. The demon then climaxed. The spell was now complete. Just then MacisteÕs body began to shutter. Every muscle that had been restored quivered. The body of the demon also began to quiver. Then it was if a vacuum had started inside the warriorÕs body. His muscles began to shrink and shrink. Meanwhile the demonÕs physique began to grow and grow. Larger and ever more muscular, and the demon shouted “Yes, yes, give me all of it!” As the demon withdrew from the hero. MacisteÕs body collapsed face forward onto the floor. There lay a tall, broad shouldered man of only skin and bones like the desiccated male body the hero had found outside the caveÕs entrance. All his muscle stripped from him. The demon raised his arms in a double bicep pose and stared at them. They were larger than ever before! Larger than any man had ever seen. Full of strength and might. Now the power of Maciste had become his.

Chapter 11: Infinite Power While Jeff, Max and David are taking the S exam, on the planet Stix a disturbing threat is about to emerge. Thomas runs towards Justin's room, his muscles rippling under his costume, he enters the room and he sees Justin on the sofa being massaged by 5 Z university students. Justin : " What is it Thomas can't you see that I'm busy" Thomas : " JUSTIN! IT'S A DISASTER! Master Baram is ready to wield the supreme crown" Justin gets up so early and he crushes the two students who lick his feet "What! it's not possible! He still has a month to go before he releases the gods of destruction" Thomas : " Yes, but he managed to store enough power to succeed " The two rush to the throne room and they see Master Baram begin the ritual. He places his hands around the crown and suddenly black smoke shoots out. Once the smoke is cleared they begin to distinguish 4 silhouettes floating in the air. On the left we can see a man with blond hair and horns on his head, he wears a red and black compression t-shirt that barely covers his gargantuan muscles, and on his titan legs we can see beautiful black tight pants and gold, and his whole body is surrounded by flame. It is none other than the god of destruction ZELO. Next to him we can see a man with white hair, black wings grow in his well-defined and muscular back, he wears a tattoo on his divine pectorals, and black pants come to cover his legs of unparalleled beauty . It's just the God of Destruction Xeram Next to Xeram is the most muscular man of the four silhouettes, his muscles are so big that he is dressed only in a black tunic at the level of his thighs, he is surrounded by destructive lightning. It's only the god of destruction GORMO Even though Gormo's body is the most muscular, the body of the fourth god is just as impressive, his body is so imposing that he would need twenty men to massage it, he wears a red cape, black boxer shorts that struggling to contain his monstrous cock, and he holds a sword in his right hand. It's only the god of destruction Agaris Baram: "HAHAHA! NOW I CONTROL YOU! ARE YOU ALL FOUR? uh... why aren't you five?" Zelo: " pfff this insect invokes us and he is not even aware of our history, well listen, when we fought against the superhero Magnus 17,000 years ago, he gave such a strong disintegrate our friend Levi, but we're looking for someone to replace him" Xeram conjures up a mysterious potion of a black liquid and hands it to Baram. Master Baram can't help but get excited at the thought of becoming a god of destruction, but just as he's about to take the potion Justin pops up and snatches it from his hands. Justin: " HAHAHAHA! I alone deserve this power" Gormo: " A little advice if you drink more than a drop, your body is not likely to contain such power" But Gormo barely has time to finish his sentence than Justin swallows the whole potion at once. The four gods expected to see Justin writhing in pain but instead he closed his eyes and a smile appeared on his face, a tsunami of power flooding his body. "OH DAMN THIS IS GOOD!" his muscles swell astronomically how easily he surpasses the four gods, his power is limitless. This is the strongest god of destruction JUSTIN The four gods kneel immediately in front of him, when Justin discovers his whole divine body and we can say that he likes it. He looks at Baram and looks down on him. Justin : " You should have done more research, I've been waiting for this day for a long time, now the whole universe will be afraid of me HAHAHA! "Justin picks up a rock and throws it at Baram so hard he's thrown halfway around the world. Agaris approaches Justin and starts licking his abs, "in addition to your strength you also have the power of creation, you create whatever you want" Justin: " Interesting, in this case bring me back Mr SUAVEZ" As soon as Thomas brings Mr SUAVEZ back in front of Justin. Justin : " you will become a very powerful god under my orders" And he throws a ray which comes to invade the body of the professor, all his muscles grow and his power is now equal to the four gods." SUAVEZ : " I will annihilate all the insects that will put themselves in front of us" Justin now turns to Bastia and Thomas and in a second the two have become supreme gods. Justin: "HAHAHAHA! MINE THE INFINITE POWER HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" To be continued......

Hey guys. This is my first story being post here. And it is written with the help of one of my friends. Hopefully you all enjoy it as much as I write it. Please do excuse all the grammar mistakes. Iska vs Superman Iskarion: The Justice League Hall is in complete shambles. What else would you expect when I am paying a visit to this place. Walls destroyed, floors collapsed, furniture and equipment broken and spread everywhere, heroes of all sorts have fallen all around, beaten and broken. All of them are in still in ecstasy spasming and cock twisting with nothing coming out. They all have been drained dry. Their spandex suits are not longer filled to the brink of tearing the silky smooth spandex apart with their previous muscular body. What a shame! They have all been conquered by me, Iska. While being pounded by Batman, the last hero standing, I ignore his little tickles and tactics, not even bothering to acknowledge him. For I am displeased. I have been created as a super soldier from some ‘wanna be the ruler of the world’ organization. They had abducted me, experimented on me till I was changed. And what a change. I look down on my body, wrapped in a skin-tight black lycra nano weave suit. Supposed to help my body by protecting or reducing damage and harm. Guess it has done it’s job since none here have been even able to make a scratch on me, nor dent my dense muscle or even get me move me from my spot by a single inch. I have easily overpowered all of them. I turn my attention to my thick quads, the lines clearly visible in the suit. Grabbing my junk, even in its flacid state, for none here was able to excite me, the visible package big enough to be the envy of even any Superheroes. Chuckling on my little joke there I slowly move my hands over my 2 sets of 4 deeply cut square bricks, divided by a wide deep gutter. The suit is so tight it clearly accentuated them, probably melting people’s minds by just looking at them, and bobbing my 2 massive slaps of meaty pecs. A small smile creeping up when I remember how the Martian Hunter’s punch just bounced off them. Barely tickled me. Of course the one measly punch I have given him has him ended up ko in a crater on the other side of the city. The holes through the dozens of skyscrapers between me and him is the evident on the path he has just taken. But my arms, yeah I think I like my arms the most. When I flex them the biceps bulging big time. And I cannot even flex them to full size, feeling that even this suit has its limits, barely able to contain the muscle I am packing in my current semi flexed state. It would probably tear of should I flex my biceps to full or do a most muscular, especially after draining all these so call superheroes just now. Guess the scientists who have created me made some miscalculations. A pity. For them. Though not that they could complain, after all I have showed them my ‘gratitude’ by enslvaing them, and deposing the organization controlling them, after they finish presenting me to their leader. Oh not because of the kindness of my heart, but why I would serve them as their lapdog when I am clearly superior to them. They want to rule the world. Well so do I. but I will rule alone. I won’t need anything that is more pathetic then me. Which brings me back to the now. First order of business is to destroy the one place that could cause me the most problems. I have no worries regarding the guns and tanks of those mere humans, even nukes should not harm me I have been told, but these heroes, that might be a different case. So I storm this place, trash it, defeat every hero there is. Big, small, men, women, human, alien… it doesn’t matter. It has been a big one-man orgy just a few moments ago. All pathetic heroes and heroines have been fully fucked and drained. And they all have been such a disappointment. None could harm me. None has given me a challenge whatsoever. I haven’t blink an eye. Not even a single drop of sweat has formed on my body. Further evidence of my magnificence. I sigh deeply, I crave for a challenge, but if nobody here can beat me, then conquering the world might actually become a boring job. This has thoroughly fouled my mood. Then a big noise wakes me up out of my musings. Noticing Batman is still trying to beat me and has just fired some rocket on me. Just one? Must have contained something that probably would have beaten someone else. But not me. You know for a guy with no powers I would think he is a smart guy or else he would have died a long time ago. But nothing he has done so far had any effect on me. During my musings I actually even forget he is still around. Either a very stubborn guy, or the biggest fool of them all. Time to end this joker he is. With a casual flick of the back of my hand I smack his face, cracking his skull, forcing his body to fly through several walls before he finally crashes into some lobby furniture where his broken body remains still. I breath in deep, sucking in almost all the air in half the city, for a moment creating a near vacuum till air from further out rushes in and fills in the void and then I release all the air I had sucked in through a powerful scream of frustration. I needed something to vent, perhaps screaming would do. The force behind it so powerful the Hall is blown apart and every window in the city and beyond shatters. For a moment silence reigns, then it is filled with car alarms going off, peoples screaming and running for their lives. Won’t be long before this section of the city is devoid of other life. And the rest of the city is being evacuated by the mayor as I am standing there trying to decide if I would conquer this world now or not even bother with it since they are not worthy of my attention. Yet what else would I do with my time if not that. Again I sigh deep. I just wish I could have fought something more challenging. But alas it seems that the one guy who might give me some fun was not in the Hall. Nor has he came to aide his fellow. Where could he be? Superman: I have been on my diplomatic mission for another world for almost a month now. Everything finally calms down to the point I can leave and go back to earth to enjoy some R&R. I fly through space taking a little detour to various yellow suns to do some sunbathing. I have got to work on my tan, right. Besides. I am sure everything is just chucking along well with Justice League I charge. They will contact me if something big is going down for sure anyway. Soon coming to an end of my journey reach earth, my second home, but the only one I know. Flying pass Jupiter, I hear a faint cry from Batman, “Superman…… “. The rest is all jumbled. That’s not reassuring. I instantly fly in max speed towards earth and entering earth with a supersonic boom that probably surprise everyone on earth; but given the circumstance I must take my chance to ensure the safety of my old pal Batman. I arrive at the Hall of Justice in total ruin, where the symbol of “True, Justice, and a better Tomorrow” lays. Walking among the ruin, I see some new heroes and heroines who have just been induced to the JLA scattering across the ruin along with the destruction at every corner. I look for Batman with my X-ray vision and see that he is laying on a destroyed couch barely alive. His skull is cracked with multiple bone fractures all over his body. Who process this kind of power here on Earth? I immediately start stabilizing Batman. He will heal eventually, but it will be a tough road for him. I hear a roar when I try to make Batman more comfortable. And Batman whispers to me, “Be careful of Iska…….” to just fainted away after. The voice alone forces the structure to shake and windows to burst. I follow the voice trail to a figure standing in the middle of once used to be a grand meeting room wearing all black. The Lycra suit tailored perfectly to his muscular physique showing off all the definitions. He must be Iska that Batman refers to earlier. He is impressive indeed in physical terms with all the bells and whistles. Almost as good as me that is. His intention on the other hands is pure evil with the destruction of JLA headquarter alone. No longer able to control my anger, I appear right in front of him merely inches away. His face tells me all I need to know: a total shock in his eyes. A bitch slap follows smacking Iska down to the ground immediately with a deafening boom. My finger imprints are clearly visible on his face: bright red. Not wasting another second, my right foot stomps on Iska’s head pushing it deeper to the ground causing the structure to vibrate and thousands of pieces falling around us. “You are Iska, right?” roaring at him. “Answer me, you motherfucker!” Another stomp to his head; another shake to the JLA Hall of Justice. Iskarion For a moment I do not realize what is happening. One moment my roar is damaging the city. The next I see a blur surprising me and then a pang of pain coursing through my face. Pain? Me? And then I understand that just like the proverbial cavalry HE finally arrives to the scene. Furious of what I have done to the place he has painstakingly built he is now stomping my head into the floor. I feel his boot ramming into my face, the floor cracking around my head while it’s pushed inches into the reinforced floor, the power behind it shaking the surrounding grounds, only adding fear to the few people who have not yet run away far enough. And enough I have of his incessant stomping of my beautiful face. My right arm raises and grabs the sole of his foot when he tries to stomp again, stopping it in it’s track, My arm visibly bulging and outlined in my suit. While with my other arm I start pushing up my body, fighting back his power. But it is not enough. Superman just simply reinforce the strength and I am once again deep inside the concrete floor. This is at a level I had not experienced before. This… This is the strength I craved for. The power I have been created to fight. The ultimate test I want… no need… to challenge and overcome. I gather all my strength and block his leg one last time. I am only half successful. His leg has contacted my face, but it is only half of the force of the previous one. I grab onto his leg and twist with full force. You are surprised by my sudden strength and stumbled to the ground. Now standing upright with your foot still hold tight by my hand I smile. “Yes Superman, I am Iska, and I am your doom.” I flex my muscle and my hand which holds your foot pulls you in and I sling you over me, slamming your chest first into the ground, creating a crater with your body. I pull you up and throw you over to the other side, slamming your back, creating another crater. And again, and again and… I slam your body back and forth to the ground. Seeing all that muscle being trashed finally makes my groin stir a little bit. But much more will be needed to fully awaken my dormant monster. And more is what you will give me. I finish by lifting you up again, swirl you around over my head and then let go, the force great enough to make you fly through dozens of skyscrapers, some of them breaking in two, their topside sliding and falling off, collapsing to the ground, ravaging the city with debris, while your body continues to fly unimpeded till it leaves the city and crashes into one of the tops of a mountain range visible at the horizon, obliterating that top with your body, finally coming to a rest. I crack my neck, feeling my face, a bruise forming, but no harm done. Slowly I rise out of the rubble and hoover over the city, half keeping an eye on you, the other half checking out my body. The power… So intoxicating. Just a fraction of my strength being realized, and I am already throwing your body around like a ragdoll. Who knows what I can do when I go all out. Superman My plan has worked flawlessly. We are now out of the city far away from any civilization. Pretending to be beating by Iska and have him thrown me all the way out here is the only way to lead him to battle with me in the middle of nowhere. I myself don’t even have a scratch, even my suit is still in perfect condition. If he were to even give me a scratch, he would have had a lot more to show for than what he has just done to me. The crash into the mountain is a smoking gun to lure Iska to this specific location. I see him hop and jump through all the debris trying to catch up to me. I intentionally speed up to increase our distance between us. By the time he arrives at the foot of the mountain. I already have a plan for him. I fly straight into his abs spearing him with my left shoulder from the clouds and smokes still settling from my supposed crash. The hit was perfect. His 4 sets of 2 brick wall starts to cave in looking more like a big hole between a set of bricks now. His eyes bulges out, mouth open wide, just like his bigger than life bulge right below his brick wall. In fact, I can see than his bulge stirs as I hit him in the abs. He starts to fly, but I catch both of his hands with mine in time and pull him towards me, and I knee him in the abs a few more times in quick succession to get some more air out of him as the momentum carries over from spearing him just before. Iska trys flexing his abs to soften my blow, of course, what he thinks he can do has no relation to reality. My knees meet his “brick wall” or whatever he calls it several more times until the momentum runs out. His abs are much softer now, just the way I like it. His now torn suit has confirmed just as much. Probably the result of him flexing too much and being knee-ed by Superman. The suit just couldn’t take the stretching anymore, I guess. We are both flying toward the sky now. Well, I am fly, he is being knee-ed up the sky. The momentum shoots up into the air after meeting my knee is finally gone. I roundhouse kick him from the top right on his head with my perfectly aimed right leg. His flight path changes again, now toward the ground. I fly in supersonic speed towards to earth before he hits the grounds BOOM!!!!!! My right knee is there to meet him with the OTK as he speeds toward the ground. His back folded backward with my hands forming a hammer hitting him in the abs at the same time. BOOM!!!! Air completely rushes outwards from us in “swoof” after “swoof”. He bounds off my knee. Once again, he is laying on the ground. It must be something he has never encountered before, which is one gift I am willing to give to send him on his way. Animals and birds are all startled and screaming trying to run away from here. He should be doing the same thing too. Unfortunately, he is the one who has triggered the anger in me. Guess who looks more like a ragdoll now. Suddenly I smell a scent coming off from his body. He is actual releasing his sexual Pheromones in increasing amount. This bitch is in HEAT!!!! It seems that beating him up gives him euphoria. Precum is oozing out at his bulge in a giant wet spot on his black lycra suit. I snort. He may be strong, stronger than most, but his body is still very human. His body is betraying him, betraying his mind. His body knows what he actually wants. Iskarion I don’t expected my single attack to do much harm to superman, if any. But I sure make him angry. The power behind his sudden spearing of my abs surprises me. Not in any of the tests I have performed for the scientists I even need to flex my abs. nor in my trashing of the Hall. But here for the first time I regret not flexing them. In the span of barely a minute my core is thoroughly beaten and trashed. The nanosuit not even able to reduce the power of a single punch, totally overwhelmed it rips apart under his fists, revealing my amazing set of bricks into the daylight. Still being totally overwhelmed I am kneed up into the sky where my head receives the most powerful kick I ever felt, a pang of pain shooting through my body while I rush towards the ground, only being intercepted by your knee and hands, my body seemingly being pulverized in between before I collapse to the ground. Taking a moment to process what just has happened, I feel my abs burn, my back flaring, the midsection of my suit gone, shredded into nothingness by your onslaught. And my own rod having slithered down my leg, starting to reveal it’s size. But nothing has been broken and though my abs are reddening I flex them now and see them shift into even more denser and compact form, ready to take on even more punishment should the need arise. While rising up to my feet I chuckle. This must have been the strongest beating I ever got, yet my body has not failed on me. I flex my body to you, showing off my muscle and that still not a single drop of sweat has appeared on my body. It will take more then this to destroy me. That I now know. But I have felt your power, now knowing I cannot take you lightly. So in a sudden burst of speed I close in on you, pump out my chest, pecs swelling, my arms flexed, biceps bulging to a size never seen myself before, not restraining them anymore. The upperpart of my suit not simply tearing or shredding here and thee, but simply bursting apart in thousands little pieces, the cloth flying in all directions, showing off my impressive muscular size to you. Your eyes widening some, probably realizing the challenge and potentional defeat from utter power beast powering up right in front of you. My fists unleashing a flurry of punches straight into your core and chest, hitting your dense abs and pecs. From the first punches your suit gets shredded into oblivion. My fists digging in deep into your bricks and causing ripples moving ovr your pecs. with speed no mere human can follow I unleash hundreds of punches into your body, turning it into a punching bag. The feeling arousing me even more, precum leaking out of my rod, enlarging the wet spot in my pants. I then move low, launch my right fist from below, rising up, rubbing over your bricks, pouncing through the valley between your pecs and hitting your jaw square, smashing your head up, your body flying at tremendous speed into the sky. I jump up and fly in pursuit, catching up on you, bypassing you where I raise my arms, clamp my fists together and smash them down, straight onto your skull. your body immediately changing course back downwards with so much force that when you hit the mountain, it obliterates entirely, replacing it with a massive crater I land next to you, notice your head is drilled into the groun up to your waist. Exposing your ass and bulge. And my eyes might deceive me, but I could swear your package had grown. Could it be you actually liked me beating you up? With such a juicy target I do not hesitate, I rise my fist and slam it down straight into your balls, the forcing drilling your body nearly a mile deep into the ground. I bend over and peer into the dark hole, wondering what you must be feeling and thinking right now while absently noticing a single drop of sweat sliding of my pec, hanging on my nipple for a moment till it falls off into the hole. Superman The counterattack is unexpected, I have to admit. He is faster and more powerful than I have expected from a human being. It is definitely my mis calculation that landed me with hundreds of his powerful punches. My suit may have been torn to pieces, but it does not have any effect on my body. A little shaking of my abs and pecs is nothing to be concern about. He seems to understand this point also as he turns to the dirty tricks to try to get an upper hand. After he smashed my head in the air, I have landed in the newly created crater. My upper body is buried in the ground leaving my ass and bulge expose. This is definitely not a good scenario for me. Before I can get myself out, Iska has already raised his fist intended to slam straight down to my balls. In a split second, I tighten my legs in an hourglass stance blocking the ballbusting full frontal assault. It works! The impact does carries me a mile below ground, but my balls are spared. A drop of liquid touches my forehead. It feels like an electrical spark. I realize it is Iska’s sweat due to the lingering pheromones permeating in this closed space. Good! I have not even sweat yet! I take a moment to collect myself, shake myself lose a little, preparing my counterattack. I see that he is still standing over the hole that I have made through my telescopic vision. Well, if you want to play dirty, then dirty you shall get. I beeline out of the hole and in the process I grab hold of both of Iska’s hands. Doing a 360 on myself landing on the ground facing his back forcing his arms bend backward. He immediately tries to break free, but he struggles. I am not the Superman a few moments before. If he thinks he can match me, then let’s keep the show on the road. With his arms now bend backward. I kick his knees into submission touching the ground. He attempts to get up, however, I am here to match his strength and more. I push him back to the ground as I move closer to him. His bulge is now open wide, I swing my right leg and kick into his balls. Both balls must be doing some pinball action inside his body. He screams with his body taking off from the momentum of my kick. Switching to hold his wrist at the nerve pinch point, I slide below Iska and warp my legs around his for the body scissors. Now my ankles are locked, hands on his wrist nerve point digging deep. He battles on knowing that he can’t break my hold. With my heels constantly rubbing his bulge and occasional jabs , he is more aroused than ever. No one has excited him this far for sure. A moan escapes from him. The early pain mixing with being pleasure right now must have done it for him. His cock is leaking a constant stream of precum at this point. His breath heightens with constant moan and he is truly enjoying this. With my cock pressing against his butt, I start teasing him both front and back. Iskarion Staring into that dark hole I can barely see anything. So I am somewhat surprised when you suddenly fly out, grab my hands and then took me down, bend my arms backwards. I immediately try to get free, but your power easily rivals mine keeping me locked. Then you put down to my knees, our strength still rivalling each other. But I am far from done, guess I will have to… And before I finish my thought, pain shot out throughout my body. Your kick to my balls another surprise. I have never believed Superman fight dirty. Mmh, perhaps he is not a boyscout as he shows to everyone. I process the pain, and some of the revel and arousal that I get out of it. Only fueling my desire to destroy that magnificent muscled body of yours, twisting, bending, breaking it to my will. By the time I get my body spasms back under control you have moved beneath me and trapped me in a scissor move. Your powerful quads battling against my hardened lower waist. Your heels rubbing my rod, clearly on display now and it’s size outmatching most beings in this world, continuously oozing. Though I have still got it under control. And don’t think I fail to notice that your rod also has become excited. I can feel it growing and rubbing my ass and lower back. But if he thinks I am out of the game this easily, think again. This body is power incarnated. Though you are more powerful than I ever dreamed of, I have not yet tapped in all my strength myself. Not even sure what my limits are since I have passed all the tests the organization threw at me without any trouble or feeling pushed to the limit. I push down my more carnal urges and focus on my inner strength, pulling out more power, my arms which were struggling against your hold suddenly getting a boost I overwhelm your arms’ hold over me and slap them away. Mine now free, I grab your legs around the ankles, close my hands and unleash tremendous force. Enough to crush planets with ease. My fingers digging in entirely into your meat and muscle, nearly snapping the bones beneath. I hear you gasp from the sudden power and pain must be radiating from your legs forcing your quads to open, freeing my waist from your crush. I quickly move away from you while stretching myself out, one hand digging into my pants, rubbing my rod and then move to my mouth, licking some of my precum while my eyes burn with excitement. For the first time ever my body is being truly tested. I can’t wait to see how much more it can take, how much more it can give. I see you had gotten up too, testing out your weight on your ankles. A pity I did not break them. But it does give me time to move in close, put one hand behind your back, while the other starts pounding your abs. This time using more of my power my fists dig in. Your abs resisting with their tremendous hardness, but ultimately failing to protect you from my assault. With each punch my fist digs in deeper and deeper, slowly destroying those amazing thick bricks, gutting your core. I keep your body on the spot, my one hand on your back preventing you from being punched away away. This time you take the full brunt of my assault. And not even your nigh invulnerable body can take this beating without consequences. It does not escape my notice that you do not fight back but try to take it all. Even your rod starts leaking precum. Perhaps a part of you desires to be tested, to see if there is someone who can destroy that beautiful body of yours? Which I am more than happy to oblige. My final punch slams in so hard hard my fist vanishes right up to my wrist, pushing out all the air out of you, forcing your body to bend over, your eyes bulging. Your body lifts up a few feet into the air, where I use that briefest of moments to quickly put both my hands together and hammer down my fists digging in deep into your back muscle, distorting the muscle fiber around my fists, while at the same time my knee shoots into your core, totally penetrating your abs which had not yet recovered from the abuse I have just unleashed upon them. My knee and fists meeting halfway in your body. Mangling your insides, you unleash spit and drool, and with what little air left you still manage to shout a cry of pain, so powerful it shakes the region. I take a step back, your body dropping down to the ground where I admire that ass of yours for a second. Then I grab what remains of your suit, rip it of while turning you around, seeing you in full naked glory, seeing that rod of yours has grown considerably. Seems I am not the only one who likes a good beating. And thinking of liking, my own rod acknowledges your magnificent body and bursts out of my suit, fully erect now with it’s monstrous size. The last shreds of my suit falling down to the ground. Now both of us fully naked. As it should be. Me towering above you it is time for some payback for my balls, so I grab yours with my left hand, easily lift up your body, your legs dangling in the air, pointing downwards, while your head is still on the ground and then crunch my hand into a fist, literally crushing and compacting your balls, forcing pre to shoot out covering your body, mixing with the spit and a bit of sweat that had started forming on your body. The sight of dominating you forcing another squirt of pre shooting out of my rod, mixing with yours while it slides over your abs and into your pec valley. I flex my free right arm, it’s massive size showing, bristling with barely contained power, ready to unleash it’s fury on you. “I am not out of the fight just yet Superman. Not by a long shot.” Superman Iska seems to summon additional strength from within, breaking my leg scissors and frees himself. My ankles are somewhat sore from his grabs. But it will heal in a nano second. He wastes no time to come after me. One hand at my back and another punch my abs. Each blow seems to be more powerful than the last. My abs start to cave in more and more. No human has ever able to deal with me this way. Iska is playing me like a pong right now between his over expanded veins popping arms. It is a sight to be seen. As he continues to play pong with my body. My right hand brushes his bulge back and forth at the same rate with my flapping arm involuntarily between his legs. I can tell he is getting more excited as his bulge continues to grow. Precum continues to flow through his cock like a damn faucet. My right hands tingles with each contact with his bulge and precum. Slowly my hand is covered with precum slowly dripping to the ground from each of my finger. Iska’s frustration finally reach to the max. He punches me in my chisel abs and knees me on my back knocking some air out of me. Spits and saliva shot out from my mouth. That’s something rarely happens. I try to take a moment to recover from the Plant destruction level of attack. But Iska is faster this time. The battle-tested rugged large hand grabs my enormous ball sac holding my mighty balls within for real this time. Iska picks me up by the balls with my legs and head still on the ground. He squeezes my balls with his might. With each squeeze, my cock shots out a rope of precum. I become Iska’s personal yellow rubber duck squeaky toy. He squeezes, I squirt. Iska visibly enjoys the scene of me being dominated like a 50 cents cheap manwhore, and his cock explodes from the confine of his black suit shooting out precum directly to my colossal abs attempting to humiliate me further. One rope from me when he squeezes, one rope from him when he gets excited. It is like a musical water fountain except Iska is the pump, and I squirt out rope of precum on his demand. I am now drenched with my own precum with his mixed in. There is large pool of precum gathers right below my chest and drains through my pecs valley gushing down to my face. Iska is now completely drunk in his domination over me continuing with assaults on my balls thinking such humiliation would break me. His pride is being stroke by my seemingly defeat, imagining how he would turn Superman into his forever rubber duck. Iska finally decided to end it once and for all. “Superman, it is time to learn your place in my world. Prepare yourself to be my very first personal sex eunuch. It is truly your honor to be able to serve me with such high prestige. Before I pull your balls out, savor the last bit of manliness that you will be ever able to produce.” He than puts out his other free hand into the pool of precum mixture of mine and his on my chest. Scooping out some, his hand moves on top of my mouth. “Open wide, my soon to be Super-manLESS.” He forces my mouth open, and the thick mixture pours into my mouth. Iska increases pressure enough to make a Planet to go supernova on my balls trying to pull them out intended to leave me with an empty ball sac but leave my 12 incher intact for my own reminder of the superMAN I am used to be soon. It would have been devastating to others, but it provides me a way out. Each squeeze, by some means, deliver new form of energy I have never known coming out of my balls. Energy flows from my balls to the rest of my body. My cock starts to grow larger in its already gargantuan state. The more Iska squeezes, the more powerful the energy I experience. On the other end, there is another energy form pouring into my mouth. The precum mixture instantaneously amplifies the energy coming from my balls. I twist and turn as energy being absorbed into my body. Iska hasn’t noticed the massive changes to my body. The initial pain that I experience has turn into pure delight. My body is in rapid transformation turning my already exquisite muscular body into a body even any god desires. Still drunk in his preemptive victory celebration, He thinks my growing cock and body twists are the direct response to his brutal torture and my imminent defeat. He does not realize that my fuck stick and body aren’t responding to his power but by the power gushing throughout my body originated inside my balls where his hand is trying to crash from existence. Awakening from within my body is about to happen…… My head slowly raises up looking at Iska as he goes on to crash my balls. I no longer make any sort of sound. He finally notices that I am not reacting to his might. He turns to look at me. I blast him with solar flare from my eyes to his. He is knocked backward on his back with nowhere to hide. “Arrrrrrr………..”. I continue my solar flare along with a loud scream. My body is glowing like a sun with visible energies traveling throughout my body. The flare has scorched everything around him. His fury body lasts a little longer. Hairs are all singed soon after, even his pubic hairs. His body is now cleaner than Mr. Clean’s bold head just like a good boy he should be. I chuckle. I finally regain some sense. The flare has stopped, and Iska has dropped to his knees in his newly sparkling body completely toasted with linger smokes. His eyes are cauterized showing white as if he has stared directly into the sun for too long. I walk towards Iska. He is surrounded by molten rock sizzling in the middle of it. Time for some payback. He still trys to attack me but to no avail. He does have my respect on this. I put him face down lifting his legs for a reverse boston crap. I reach for his hands with mine and starts pulling them upward. I now have his arms and legs crisscrossing with each other. I simply sit on top of him and try to force him to arch backward even more. I can sense that his body is healing itself, but at the moment it has no effect on my ability to manipulate his body. I force myself down more and Iska starts to scream. “Iska, you should wait until your mouth meet with your junk.” Like tiding shoelaces, I pull his legs some more and now his mouth is inches away from his junk. He continues to fight me bulging his muscle to avoid folding him outward. I plummet my fist into his balls at the speed of light. Air around of fist is on fire. Iska can only take it. Then it happens. A rope of cum shoots out of his flaccid cock. And another, and another. A man shoots his load without even getting hard. Now that’s something you don’t see everyday. His body convulsing. His eyes starting to roll back. He is in sexual ecstasy while shooting his loads out. Some cum lands on me and I instantly feel the power being absorbed into me. “Ah…..” I continue to pound his balls and he continues to be milked like a caged animal. All his cum is now being absorbed into me. His healing is slow to a screeching halt. Power is diminishing. Involuntary orgasm has weakened him. I laugh out loud. Iskarion I keep squeezing your balls, your precum leaking and shooting out. So engrossed I am that my own rod joins in the mix, a continuous stream of precum oozing, both of our precum mixing and drenching your body. I play this game for minutes, creating a pool of pre around your body, the copious amounts only proof of just how superior both our manhoods are compared to the rest of the world. But I want to play with you more, so I go down, scoop up some pre and force it into your mouth. You resist at first, but my strength overwhelms you and down the divine liquid goes. Unbeknownst to me I have not started weakening you, but making you stronger. Rare is the one in this world who could force your rod to come forth and only you know that your precum could bolster your power. Too late I notice that your muscle started rippling, changing, bulking up while becoming even denser than before. No longer just the man of steel, but more than that. I feel my hold over you weakening, your strength outmatching mine. And then suddenly that heat vision blasts into me. Immediately I feel my skin, muscles, organs and blood heating up. Forced to let go and a scream of pain blasts out of me, creating a shockwave that rages over the continent. The vegetation around me all burning away in a flash, the sand turning into scorched glass, the rock beneath my feet melting, my feet sinking in some. The hair on my chest, arms, legs, pubes, all being burned away. Turning my body as smooth as a baby butt. Only the hair on my face and head safe due to being out of the direct line of fire since you focused mostly on my torso. My body ravaged I drop down to my knees. My hands touching my eyes. Though not hit directly the intensity of the light had blinded me till my body heals them. But that time Superman could use to continue his assault on my body. Blinded I swing out, but only one of my fists hit your lower abs, impacting them, but your bulked up and denser muscled body does not even register it, my fist bouncing off. Amazing, no one has ever seen him do this to his body. No one knew his precum could empower him. Pride swells inside me though for I must have managed to push you beyond anyone ever has to make this happen. Not even your enemies of old managed to do this. Or perhaps at that time you did not knew of this ability. I feel you grabbing my body, bending it in a reverse boston crab. I resist, but your bolstered power overwhelms mine, bending and bending me even more. My abs stretched out beyond I have ever done myself. Stretched but not broken. My vision slowly starts to return, still seeing spots, but I can see enough again. Enough to see your powerful body towering over me, your fist raised up high and then smashing into my balls. My eyes roll up from the sensation of pain and arousal. And then another punch and another. Your fist relentlessly busting my balls. Pain and bliss flowing through my body in equal amounts. My rod pulsing hard I can no longer contain it. I no longer ‘want’ to fully contain it for it will also be my salvation. So I shoot one thick rope of cum after the other on your body, knowing now yours will absorb my cum. Increasing your power even more, but that is what I desire. I want your body to take my cum. For that is the trap hidden within it. And you will discover this soon. But I cannot unload it all on you, for your assault has weakened me and I need strength myself. New power to match yours. And I open my mouth wide, bend my body that little bit more and wrap it around my own rod, removing the last restraints I have, my cum load burst out like a firehose. I start slurping and gorging up my own cum, swallowing it all. My cum filling up my stomach, processing it, changing it into the power I know it contains. My own muscle start to ripple, pulsing, growing some, becoming bigger. Denser. More defined then it already was. A true Adonis. And my strength increases. I feel my body bristling with replenished energy. I release my rod from my mouth, my energized body rapidly healing, my vision restored fully I see the surprise on your face on what I had just done. And despite my terrible position I flex my muscle, crunch my abs and slowly overpower yours, unbending my body, straightening more and more till finally breaking free out of the hold. I fall down to the ground, quickly rising up and turning around to face you while my rod pushes out the last globs of cum and then come to rest. Spend for the time being. But my balls already started churning more seed, preparing for another load I could use. “Thank you Superman. This is what I needed, for ever since my body was changed none could satisfy me other than myself. Now come to me, fight me, use that power you got from me before it is too late. For I shall reveal the secret of my seed. Yes it empowers all who drink it or absorb it through their skin. But only for a short while. For my cum is not a blessing to anyone but me. It grants strength to all yes. But only I am immune to the poison that it carries within. So yes, soon your body will feel the effects, weaken to the point you will turn into my defenceless prey. So come and fight me before it starts taking effect and plunges you into your doom.” Your face changes from surprise into determination. With your superspeed you close in to me before my eyelids even finished blinking, slamming your fists into my body. I do not move a single step. Letting your fists slam into my dense mountainous pecs and my squarely shaped 8 bricks. Taking every punch and kick you perform. I feel my muscle being pounded, compacted under the brunt force of your fists, my face beaten to all directions, but none of them cause much damage, my body taking your barrage like the superbeing I am. I join the fray and return the favour, slamming your obliques, your 8 pack that rivals mine in size and shape, those big juicy pecs, punching your face like I am trying to rip it off your body. But neither of us setting a single step back. Our feet firmly locked in place. A slugfest erupts where we simply pounce our bodies to mush. Or trying to. Minutes pass by then ten, fifteen… and neither of us giving up. Both keeping up a relentless beating. And I start to wonder if you are immune to my poison. The thought distracting me for a second which you use to lift up my body and ram my back down on your knee. Once, twice, trice, trying to break my back. Feel my spine objecting, but waste no time. I bash both my fists to the sides of your head thoroughly rattling that brain of yours, dazing you for a brief moment. Free myself from you and slide behind you, grabbing your bullneck and ass. Especially that ass. Even squeezing hard with my fingers I barely dent it. Mmhmmm. I really need to have some fun with that ass. I start running forward towards the mountain, making sure I push out your loin forward. Your rod ramming the mountain first, a split second followed by the rest of your body using it as a battering ram. Not slowing down the slightest while I use your body to dig a tunnel straight through the mountain. The underground rumbling and shaking. Cracks appearing all over the mountain itself till suddenly we burst out on the other side. I let go of you and you stumble a few steps before you stop and turn around. A pause in our fight, I check out my body. Ripped as never before, beaten, battered, bruised, my rod back at full mast, sweat sliding down all over. And yet I feel still energy flowing through me. Never before I have used this much strength and still I have not run out of breath and stamina. I feel alive. My sight focuses on you and I see your body in a similar state. I smile sensing the power you still radiate despite the beating I have given you. Even your monster rod was going strong, equalling mine size. I look up to you and see a smile plastered on your face. Oh now there’s a surprise. Who would have thought that you are loving this. Who knew that Superman is a dirty minded guy inside. No wonder nobody has ever got to see this side of yours. Or maybe they did not lived to tell the tale. It’s not like anybody could find the bodies you could have made. A quick toss into the sun and poof no evidence. You try to take the upper hand by unleashing another blast of your heat vision. Empowered as you are by our precum the intensity is even greater then before. But I too had become stronger, so while I feel the power behind the blast, stopping my walk for a second. This time my skin though barely heats up. Your attack no longer working on my magnificent body. I chuckle and slowly walk towards you, closing in the distance while raising my arms higher and higher till they are above me, showing what kind of move I want next. Realising you are not getting anywhere this time with your heat attack you seize it and raise your arms to, our hands clasping, going for a power struggle. Both our arms bulging with muscle, our foreheads leaning against each other, vicious snarls on our faces. Our pecs rippling from the power we unleash on each other. Crunching my abs hard, adding their strength to the struggle. Our rods slapping one another between our bodies, having their own battle for dominance. Our legs literally digging into the rocky ground sinking ankle deep. For a short while nothing happens. So evenly matched we are neither side gained the upper hand. But as time passed I noticed your body starts to tremble a bit. At first I think it is from the exertion, but then I slowly start to gain some ground, pushing your arms back ever so slightly. And then more and more. Bending your knees, pushing your body lower and lower to the ground, my body starts to tower over yours. And I realize that finally after such a long time the poison must finally be working. I already have forgotten about it, engrossed in our tug o’ war. The first few minutes you still resist hard, even manage to push back a little bit, but then your body starts weakening rapidly and I push you down to both your knees, bend your arms back and upwards, nearly snapping them out of their sockets. Sensing your arms no longer have the power to resist mine, I release the hold and they drop down, the palms hitting the ground. I look down on you, while you look up towards my towering muscle mass. Your body sweating now not just from the fight against me, but also from the battle raging within. I start to flex, going through some of the poses bodybuilders go through. Showing off my body, totally confident I have you now where I want you to be. Down before my glorious self. I then grab your head from the sides, my fingers crushing into your skull, tiny fractures forming around them, forcing your jaw to open wide and without a care I shove my monster rod in you. Pushing in and out, slowly ramming more and more of it to the back of your mouth, deep into your throat. I started skullfucking you hard. Banging your face against my loin, cracking your nose in the process. Hearing you gag over my rod, not able to keep up, it makes my balls boil, coming closer and closer to another release. But I will not let it happen this time. It was time for me to taste your cum. So with some regret I let go of your head and pulled out. Lifted your body up till it stands again, though shaky, moves my hands to your waist and then easily lifted up your body, rising it high enough for your leaking rod to be at level with my face. And then I devour your rod, pushing it deep in my mouth, tasting your delicious pre. My tongue starts to play with your foreskin, pushing it back, revealing your mushroom top which the tip of my tongue has some fun with. And then I push yours deeper into my throat. And I start to push and pull your body back and forth, somewhat skullfucking myself, but I could take it for I want your seed and I want it now. Faster and faster I play, rub and bite your cock inside my mouth till I feel your balls vibrating and boiling against my face. And then just like a dam breaks, you start unloading inside me. Gallons and gallons of Superman’s cum shooting inside me. I swallowed it all while still working over your cock. Demanding more. And more I get. Even too much. The flow increasing to a point beyond what I can swallow and your cum burst out of my mouth around your rod, leaking down over my massive pecs, between it’s valley, my gutter forming a canal that cannot contain it all and my bricks shares in the cum overload, my rod creams till big globes of your cum drips down to the ground, quickly forming a small pool around us. We both now so in bliss, ignoring the world, sucking and moaning. After some time your stream finally finished and I let go of your rod and threw you to the ground. I look to my stomach and see it ballooned. Though I feel my body processing the amounts. Soon it will return back to it’s perfect shape. I cannot stop myself from burping long and hard. Pardon me. Causing a snow avalanche on some other mountains in the neighberhood. I walk towards you and stomp my foot on your pecs. Flexing my quads whose cut definition was a sight to see and push down with so much force I felt your ribcage being pushed inwards, the first tiny cracks appearing. Just a bit more power of my leg and I would just crush your body into pulp. Flexing my arms I tower over you, look down and speak to you. “You are strong. The strongest challenge I have ever met. A true treat for my body. But I have been created to fight you, to destroy you. And this battle has made me only stronger. Not even you can rival me. So in the end you never had a chance to defeat me. A pity. I fear now life will get boring for me for there is no other man in this world that would even rival you or me.” A deep sigh escapes me from that depressing thought. “Oh well I still have you as my cumdump. So I am sure I will find some interesting ways to get my fun out of you.” Superman Fun is what Irka has with Superman. I shoot load of cum, gallons after gallons directly into his stomach. His abs start to stretch out due to the shear amount of cum gusting into him. I am in heaven with his expert cock sucking skill running up and down my shaft with a whirlwind of tongue wrapping my cock helmet. I no longer able to move but to have him fuck my cock into giving him what he wants. My chest goes up and down heaving for breath between cosmic orgasm, and my abs of steel is convulsing uncontrollably just to pump out my powerful precious cum for Iska to enjoy. After he finishes with me tossing me aside like a used cum ragdoll, Irka flexes like no other man or even superhero I have ever seen. Stomping on my once manifestant pecs, I squirt out the remaining cum in my ball through my now flaccid useless cock involuntarily. You take that as a sign of my ultimate demise grinning appears on your face. You suck the last pathetic little strand of cum drooling on my cock slit. It instantly get you excited. Your huge cock is in a standing position once again, precum once again flowing freely. From your victorious stand over my body, you pick me up by the hair and push my mouth against your pecs. “Lick me clean, cumdump!!! Serve your master as you should!” He smashes my head again when I refuse to cooperate, and it bring me pain beyond what I have experienced before. Sticking out my tongue licking his ginormous pecs with reluctant, I lick his pecs……lick…..lick….. His grinning is bring me down, humiliation, submission. Under the influence of his poison running though my body, my thought starting to change. Maybe, just it may not be that bad to be his cumdump. Who will be able to defeat Iska anyway? I am still the No.2 strongest being in the universe. I raise my arms around his waist, moving across his entire back muscle. It begins to excite me. My cock slowly rises to attention. A moan escapes from me from enjoying his muscle displaying the pinnacle of male supremacy. Iska hears my moan and snickers. “Come worship your GOD! Superman!!” And worship I have. I have recovered enough to message him as he poses. Each pose seems to only bring me to ecstasy. I knee before him, kissing his foots licking away the blood and sweat. It becomes intoxicating. I come to his balls and cup my hands around them and squeeze them gently. Iska has not even move a inch when I come in contact with his powerful balls. Such a display of confidence knowing that I can no longer damage them like just a few minutes before. He stops me just before I am about to put his amazing cock into my mouth. He is still not fully trust me yet. I pass his cock but let it slide off my right face and a few kisses on his shaft. It feels warm and heavy, the musky smell fills my nostrils. I feel GOOD!!!!! I continue to go up to his abs, his brick wall, it is even better defined than when we first meet. I lick every valley between his walls. My fingers run over them again and again. Iska starts to moan just like I am moaning. We are both enjoying each other at this very same moment. My hands circle back to his back again to explore his upper back muscle. I rub my face all over his abs and now on his pecs sucking in all his musky manliness smells. How ironic just a few moments ago that I was the MAN, Superman at that. Now I am just a subject with my knees in the ground worshipping someone else muscle. I have been out manned. I hoover my lips over his nips sticking out my tongue lick it. Another moan comes out of him. His nips start to lactate. Golden liquid forming around the nips, my self-control is shattered and my primal instinct comes out. I go for it sucking every drop that each nip can produce as much as I can. Iska is roaring in triumph in defeating Superman, the very reason of his existence, finally come to past. He has dominated Superman not only physical as show of proof just mins before. He may have been created for ONE and only ONE reason, but he is now achieving Psychological and Sexual domination over me. With the absolute control over my entire body, my entire existence close at Iska’s hand, we continue to put on the greatest sex scene for the world to see. Iska begins to gyrate his bubble ass and I immediately drop back to my knees to catch his cock with my hands. His cock is so magnificent comparing to mine. My cock has reduced its size significantly after Iska has sucked the essence of life from my cock and balls. My balls a merely a fraction of the size just minutes before. My head lean into his lower abs. I put his cock up against my face on one side, and my right hand on the other. My hair on my face seems to add to his sexual pleasure. A rope of precum immediately shoot out from his cock slit. I immediately suck on it like a good bitch on his knee trying to suck out anything that Iska is willing to give. A thought flashes in the back of my puny little mind. “Not bad for being No.2, Superman just need to service his cock and fulfill every deviant sexual fantasy Iska may have for the rest of his life. Not a bad bargain.” This is how low Superman have come. “Mmmm……Mmmmmm……” Going up and down on Iska’s amazing shaft sucking with whatever left of my once mighty body. So big and thicc, I am mesmerized with his perfectly form cock with veins popping at all the right places. I close my eyes completely submerge myself into having a bliss of sucking the mighty one – ISKA. I finally look up to meet with his gaze. The gaze that knows he has me now at his fingertip just like rubber duck sex toy I once was however brief the moment was. The thought of being his personal rubber duck sex toy again excited me. A small drop of precum leaks out of my once proud cock. He pulls put me up standing directly in front of him. I startle a bit and try to backup. Iska laughs out loud. “The once proud Superman has finally fallen. A taste of fear is only the beginning to your long journey as my sex slave. I sure will figure out a way to use your body more than any other beings that have come before me. But Don’t you worry, I always take care of my bitch.” My sense of self being is almost shredded to nothing. A drop of tear forms from the corner of my eyes , Iska wipes it away, “No need to cry, I will provide you with all the pleasure that you can ever want so long you service me your master to my satisfactory.” He grabs the back of my head and press me toward him. Our mouths clash and he deep-tongues me with such fury and passion. A whirlwind forms around us as a result. I can only moan to his attacks to my mouth. My body jerks and seemingly loss the spine to stand on my own. Iska holds me up by my hair and smacks my face once again with his fortress like pecs. “Worship me all over again” I start to worship once again with earnest effort this time. I no longer move nonchalantly. I feel the urge to appease Iska as if life itself is Iska and nothing else. With my renew effort to worship him, Iska starts to moan to signal his satisfaction. My last pride is finally on its last leg going in oblivion with no turning back. His nips start to lactate. Golden sparkling liquid/milk forming around the nips, my self-control can no longer control my primal instinct. I go for it sucking every drop that each nip can produce as much as I can. Iska’s nips lactate even more under the assault of my tongue. Each lick brings a small quiver at his legs. He starts to swallow his saliva hard. His head is thrown backward savoring this intense pleasure Superman is giving him. Iskarion Close. So close i am of turning Superman in my personal sex toy. I have been created to fight him, to destroy him. They have meant that in a literal way. But THIS as he is now, I am starting to like it more. So while I initially did fight him to destroy him, I change my mind now. The state I am pushing Superman in as a personal sex you will be so much better. And he is already turning into a good puppy. His tongue licking my nipples, of which I do not even know they can lactate like this. I wonder what else my own super body can do and I had not yet discovered. But first I must finish my battle. Squeeze out that last sliver of resistance I still see deeply buried within his eyes. Slowly I wrap my arms around his broad back, rubbing over those dense muscles, going down to your lower back where I lock my hands and then pull in his body against mine. Our pec shelves pushing against each other, me bobbing them for a bit, bouncing both our racks, playing with his, showing who is in control. Our abs colliding with each other, pushing our rods into our mutual gutters, pre oozing out of them, further wetting our bricks. Feeling no resistance from you I start increasing my power, slowly crushing your lower back. My arms digging into your back muscle, slowly starting to bend your body in half. Then I finally feel you try and resist. That last sliver of defiance stirring. But your body has already been weakened a lot, so the strength you muster up but a bare token of what you once were. More and more I compact your core. Your upper body bending backwards, your hands pushing on my pecs, trying to get away. Remembering a show I use a famous line to aptly describe the situation; “Resistance is futile” But you do not listen to my wisdom and keep pushing against my body while I keep crushing. And then finally I reach the moment where one final squeeze of my power would snap your spine. And at that very moment I look into your eyes and finally see that last bit of resistance fading away. Your mind totally succumbing to my radiant power and dominance. I let go of my hug, my hands sliding to your lats, grabbing them, lifting up your body and then powerslamming it to the ground, crushing your body inches deep into the rock where it bounces of a feet high, sweat drops flying all around, before going down again and settle in the rubble. I sit down on my knees, pushing up your legs, making way for that beautiful tight ass to show itself. Slowly I push in one finger into your crack, your inside feeling tight. Guess not many or perhaps even none have ever made it this far against you. Your body trembles a little bit, but no sound escapes you. I slowly increase to 2, 3 and even 4 fingers. Slowly getting a rise out of you, moans appearing, getting louder with every additional finger. Once satisfied that I have opened your ass enough I grab my monster rod and grind it between your crack. And then slooooooowly start pushing inside. Even with the preparations your insides still resist and I grab your pecs, my fingers digging in, squeezing them, rubbing your nipples, giving myself a strong hold on you and then I start pushing my rod deeper and deeper into you until my groin hits your ass, ball to ass. My rod fully inside you I see my mushroom tip pushing out a little bit from inside your abs wall. Damn I never realize till now just how truly large my toy is. Slowly at first, but with time increasing in speed I start pushing and pulling my cock. Messing with your insides, my rod visibly pushing outwards your wall. My thumping of your body creating quakes, the region around us trembling non-stop. You moaning incessantly. Your ass now wide open I no longer need to hold your pecs so I straighten myself, raise my arms and flex my biceps. 2 veritable mountains peaking. Your arms moving up towards them, grabbing them, I feel you try to squeeze them, crush them with your strength. You are so weak now you even fail to dent them the slightest. Only reinforcing in your mind I am your master. I feel my balls cumming closer and closer to its boiling point. And then the floodgates open. And a massive stream of cum is unleashed inside you. A massive moaaaaan escapes me while I feel my body squeezing out every bit of divine liquid it had stored. In mere seconds I filled up your insides, your stomach ballooning, your abs stretched out. Cum being forced out of your ass, squirting itself, creaming your ass and my groin and lower abdomen. Minutes pass till I keep using you as my cumdump, a pool of white cream forming around us, till finally my balls have depleted themselves. Heaving heavily from the excertion and bliss I pull out my rod and move my face closer to you whispering “You are mine now. Forever.”. I kiss you long and softly, no longer any need to overpower you with brute force. But even superbeings need air so after a while I reluctantly let go and rise up, towering over you. I bend down and grab your body and put it on my shoulder. And then lift of from the ground, flying towards your Fortress of Solitude where in the coming days I will devote my full attention to you having more fun with your body and mind. And as for the world… well it is not like there is anyone else stronger then me. Or is there? So it can wait till I get fully sated. And then I shall conquer it just for the fun of it. Maybe even order Superman to do it. showing the people that their hero has now become my servant. Oooh the shock when they discover that already stirs a part of my body…

Chapter 10: The S-exam ; David's test of wisdom Two months later, Professor Gorrio returns to the planet Roven to collect his students, to his surprise when he saw his three students he was left speechless. Indeed Jeff, David and Max trained super hard with Dylan and the results are shocking, they all doubled in muscle mass and their amount of magic became overpowered. Gorrio : " You have outdone yourself Dylan I think they are ready." Dylan : " of course what do you think! they may not be divine yet but they are very powerful and sexy" He walks over to Jeff and raises his t-shirt to lick those abs. "Hope you come see me again" And off they go towards the planet Chorum to meet Tim who will give them the S exam. But during the trip Max asked a shocking challenge to Mr GORRIO. Max: " I want to arm wrestle you" Gorrio : " you know i could crush your hand in a second? but it's ok, I take up the challenge" David and Jeff make force fields appear to prevent the ship from being destroyed following this duel. The two males are seated around a table their hand joined against and start the arm to do, their biceps flex, real mountains, Gorrio starts to push but Max resists, suddenly Max's arm shines and a burst of strength comes push the hand of his teacher on the other side, following this demonstration of force Mr GORRIO illuminates his eyes with a golden color and finally comes to press Max's hand against the table. Max : " you are too strong! I can't do anything to you" Max comes to kiss his teacher's still swollen bicep. Gorrio : " don't worry one day you will be" After 24 hours of flight, they arrived on the planet Chorum, they land, and are greeted by Tim, a man with long hair, wearing a black cape and black pants that cover his thighs so muscular that no one could pass. below him, his upper body is bare, he wants everyone to drool over his steely abs. Tim : " Well we're going to start without further delay, you will all three have a test, David will do the test of wisdom, Jeff the test of courage and Max the test of strength. Follow me David!" Without discussing David follows Tim to a large room, at the end of this large room there is a closed door. Tim: " You will go through this door, you will then find yourself in a simulation, nothing will be real, you will surely face a memory or a close person. Anyway good luck" Tim walks towards the door and opens it, when he wakes up he finds himself in a prison with another person and this person he knows too well since it is his brother Bastia. David : " WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!" Bastia : " It shows, however, I'm locked up like you, we can't get out the bars are impregnated with magic that neutralizes ours. We're going to be stuck for a while." David: " Alright then tell me how you got to Baram" Bastia : " Alright I'll tell you but I'm warning you you won't like it HAHAHA!" Bastia It all started 12 years earlier on the planet Tiwa, Bastia played in the garden to avoid hearing the cries of her brother who was being hit by his father and their mother when she was sitting on the sofa helpless in front of her husband. . Suddenly! Bastia sees in the sky a demonic being levitating above the village, the evil being bouncing its massive pecs causing earthquakes and explosions all over the planet. Bastia and David's house collapses, it brings down large rocks that crush their father, miraculously David, Bastia and their mother survived. Bastia : " Afterwards, our mother led us to two escape pods, she put me in one and you in the other and you know what's funny is that she chose to go in the same pod as YOU . After the capsules took off, the evil being rushed towards us, he threw your capsule very far and he grabbed mine with his big hands. he looked out the small window and gave me a big devilish smile. I was both terrified and fascinated by such power. He finally decided to take me to the planet Nexus where his people (the knights of the shadows, a very powerful sect) train. He dragged me there for a very long time, until the day I turned 17, I became so powerful that I wiped him out and all his people. For a year I searched for you and mom until the day I reached planet Magnus. While you were at M university I found where our mother lived, and to my surprise I saw that she had spent her life with one of our guys, she was so happy, plus they had a child that they called it Bastia. I was so furious and enraged that I ran into the house and killed them all. Following this I joined the planet Stix where I was welcomed by Baram and from that moment on I swore not to be weak anymore and to silence all that would oppose me." ............ The discussion ends because of a mysterious individual dressed all in black and wearing a black hood, he disintegrates the bars and goes to Bastia to kill him, when he sends his spell, David pierces him with a blow of his fist, the man's corpse disintegrates on the ground. Suddenly Bastia walks over to David and lifts him up by the neck. Bastia : " You shouldn't have done that, I'm going to rip your head off HAHAHA!" David : " Please stop, I know my brother who played in the garden is still there, you have to open your eyes! " .......... After a long minute of silence, Bastia puts David back on the ground and leaves without saying a word. A flash lights up and David finds himself in the big room next to Tim. David : " I'm sorry I failed," he said, looking down. Tim : " Well done, you made it! " David : " But why ? I let him go" Tim: " many people would have let him die, despite being your enemy he is still your brother, and the fact of having saved him is a form of wisdom. Congratulations you passed the S exam" Tim raises his arms in the air and summons a golden lightning that comes down on David, suddenly his muscles start to grow again and again until he is the same size as Tim, a tight red suit comes to cover his upper body, black and gold pants appear on his gargantuan thighs, and to finish like any superhero a cape appears on his back. A new god is born To be continued......

(since I have a lot of feedback that Justin would be their favorite character, I decided to do a little chapter exclusively on him.) ............ Chapter 9: Justin's Fury all happening at the same time, while our three friends David, Jeff and Max train with Dylan on the planet Roven, let's see how our knights of darkness occupy their time. Thomas: "Oh yes it was so good this fuck with you Justin!" Justin: " yes it was not bad but you should train a little more, I almost crushed you with my super strength" Suddenly a student from planet Stix walks into the room, he bows to Justin and starts licking his feet. Student: "Uh... Mr. Justin? Your ship is approaching the planet Kor" Justin : " HAHAHA!!!! they're going to have the chance to see me in action!" Student: " yes you are the most powerful." He said, stroking her calves Justin : " who ordered you to touch my calf?" Student: " uh... sorry, I think it would make you happy" Justin : " Only the privileged deserve to touch my body, insects like you are already lucky enough to worship my feet" Justin puts his hand under the student's throat and he begins to squeeze hard, the student's head begins to turn blue then it explodes in full spurt of blood. Justin: " OK, I'm going, see you later" And off he went in the direction of his new prey, the planet Kor. it rushes at the speed of light on the planet, it enters its atmosphere and pierces the roof of a bank. There he is in the middle of the bank with an evil smile on his face and surrounded by people who all have their mouths open when they see him. With the laser beams coming out of his eyes, he starts by aiming at the top of all the entrances and exits, rocks and crumbling concrete blocking all the exits. Justin : " That's it, as the rats are not likely to leave the ship " A security guard begins firing shots at Justin. The balls bounce off Justin's massive pecs. The super villain snatches a vending machine with his bare hands and throws it at the guard so hard that he disintegrates him. he starts walking towards someone who works in the bank, his mass is so imposing that he cracks the ground with each step, he doesn't care about other people so much that he doesn't even notice that he crushed passing humans who were kneeling so that he would spare their lives. Justin : " TAKE ME TO THE GOLD INGOTS ROOM" The bank manager trembles with fear but he leads Justin to a huge armored iron door that even an atomic bomb could not break. The bank manager: " uh... i'll open it for you" Justin " : no need, no door stands in my way" He thrust his hand into the door with such ease it felt like a hot knife cutting through butter. he effortlessly pulls and tears off the armored door then he throws it at the manager who is now crushed under these hundreds of tons. He quickly fills his bag with all the gold bars and then he leaves the bank. Once outside he finds himself facing about twenty police officers pointing their weapons at Justin and a large tank. "Pathetic" Justin thinks, with his hands he begins to melt all the gold bars in his bag leaving a golden puddle to form on the ground, he stands in the middle of the puddle and begins to absorb it, his muscles begin to swell with power and his supervillain costume changes colors to gold. FIRE! shouts a policeman and a deluge of bullets come crashing down on the body of this god.Justin closes his eyes and tilts his head back, he's so happy to be invincible. Justin: " I love bullet massage. Alright stop laughing" He spreads his legs and flexes his monstrously muscular bicep causing a golden shock wave and with his new power it turns all the policemen and the tank into motionless golden statues. Justin turns his head and he sees a huge building, maybe a hundred stories high. A Machiavellian smile then settles on his face. He begins to lift the tank now in gold and he comes to throw it on the pillars that hold the building upright. It capsizes and collapses towards Justin. With one hand Justin brought the building to a halt. Here he is now levitating above the city with a thousand ton building in his right hand and masturbating with his left hand. Suddenly he throws the building in the direction of the city, this causes an earthquake which reduced it to fire and to blood. Justin landed and walked through the burning city as if nothing had happened. Justin : " It's okay, I'm done with this planet. " He digs a hole with his two hands and pulls them apart little by little, thousands of cracks appear on the planet, Justin does that so easily that it looks like he's splitting a coconut in half. After a few seconds he is flying in space and in front of him the planet Kor cut in two which no longer exists. Justin : " Two more months to wait and I could have everything I want HAHAHAHAHA..." To be continued.....

Chapter 8: Planet Roven On the planet Stix, Master sits before his three most powerful warriors. He is dressed in a black cape that covers his broad and very muscular back, black pants that hug his thighs the size of a tree trunk, his diamond calves are covered by golden boots, and the rest of his body is bare to show his gargantuan musculature. Baram: " JUSTIN! THOMAS! BASTIA! I AM VERY PROUD OF YOU! WE FINALLY RECOVERED THE SUPREME CROWN, IN 3 MONTHS I WILL BE POWERFUL ENOUGH TO RELEASE THE 5 GODS OF DESTRUCTION AND CONTROL THEIR POWER. IT IS A DIVINE WAR THAT AWAITS US! LIGHT AGAINST DARKNESS! SO PREPARE YOURSELF WELL! " Bastia, Thomas and Justin : " AT YOUR ORDERS MASTER" the three warriors leave the room and go about their business while waiting for the day to come Bastia: " I hope you know what you are doing Justin, if Baram finds out you betrayed him and he happens to have controlled the 5 gods, he will kill you!" Justin : " Don't worry once I have all the powers I will kill Baram and I will make you divine " Thomas touches his cock with his arm which is snaking with veins and very muscular imagining the three of them with such power. Thomas: " Oh yes! We'll have the whole universe bow down to us!" ............ Meanwhile Mr GORRIO and his three students arrive near the planet Roven, during the trip Mr GORRIO to order his students to train with weights that even superman could not move. Jeff: " Do you really have to lift dumbbells now? We already have enormous muscles" He says, massaging his pecs under his black compression t-shirt. Gorrio: " Yes! Dylan loves to watch very muscular young guys with beautiful, well-defined and especially big muscles. And also when you are in front of him call Lord Dylan, he likes to feel superior to others" Max: " Agree as you wish but is Dylan that powerful? " Gorrio: " Of course it is powerful! I remind you that he passed the S exam and in addition last year we both fought and he almost ripped my head off with only one hand" Their discussion was abruptly interrupted by a big BOOM! The guys look out the window of their spaceship and he sees a man dressed in a tight black suit so tight you'd think his big muscles were ripping his clothes off, he also has a black cape and a black mask. he moves down the ship by flying and with one hand he moves it in the direction of the planet. The man in black sets the ship down on a landing pad and waits for them to exit. David : " "Is that him Dylan?" Gorrio : " No of course not! Dylan is 100,000 times more powerful than him." Mr GORRIO and his students leave the ship and stop in front of the musculature of the man in black. The Man in Black: "Stay there, Lord Dylan won't be long" After a few minutes of waiting a man arrives with red hair wearing armor but we can still distinguish that he has superhuman muscles. And all of a sudden Jeff, David and Max kneel down. David: "What's going on? Why are my legs kneeling on their own?" Dylan : " it's normal don't worry people bow down to me all the time" Gorrio : " Alright, that's enough! Dylan we need you, Baram to recover the supreme crown, in three months he will be able to invoke the 5 gods of destruction " Dylan: " I hope it's a real challenge this faith, the last time you told me that a sect of very powerful men are going to devastate the world, I arrived on the scene and just by flexing my biceps I disintegrating the sect was too easy." Gorrio : " Yes I know but there is a real danger, listen if you help us I will massage your muscles for as long as you want, do you agree?" Dylan: " That's fine with me, but do you bring your students there? they haven't even taken the S exam, they're going to be slaughtered." Gorrio : " they are the best in M university, I vouch for them" Dylan : " Alright in that case I'm going to test them, I'm going to take you to a strip club full of sexy bodybuilders, they're going to put on shows for you and you had to remain impassive in front of them, don't get hard, don't get an erection . If you show your weakness to your enemies they will exploit it, plus Justin is super sexy I loved you I would like to fuck him... Follow me I'll take you to the club." After a few hours of walking they arrive in the strip club, and beware any guy who is a fetishist of muscular guys could get a hard-on just at the entrance, it's a place full of testosterone, traces of sperm are spread everywhere on the walls there is dominance, power... you can't look away without seeing a hot bodybuilder. Dylan: " sit down there! we will start at level 1" the lights go out, and the stage is illuminated by spotlights. A bodybuilder in firefighter gear comes in and starts doing sexy dances, his muscles rippling behind his clothes, he lifts his t-shirt to show off his 10-pack and takes a wet sponge to stroke them. After 5 minutes of pleasure or rather torture for our three friends, level 1 is over. Dylan: " very well done! Now level 2" Suddenly a man in tight red underpants arrives on stage, he is still twice as muscular as the previous bodybuilder, he starts doing bodybuilder classics, everyone would want to bow down in front of this dominant being, then he takes a huge metal stone and he put it between his pectorals, he crushes the stone effortlessly. After 10 minutes of demonstration of superhuman strength level 2 is over. David: " Oh fuck ! It was hard that one" Dylan : " I may have underestimated you, but let's go to level 3" And there a completely naked man comes on stage, his cock is the size of an elephant's trunk, he moves with his big muscle mass towards the three guys. He first goes to see David and he massages his shoulders the size of a watermelon, then he caresses his pectorals then descends gradually towards his abs, then his thighs... After he passes Jeff, he pushes it's pecs in Jeff's head, "OH YOU LIKE THAT, THE POWER, THE DOMINATION, THE MUSCLES...". And finally he moves on to Max, he wiggles his big cock over her face, then over her body for 10 minutes. After 30 minutes of hot show level 3 is over. Dylan : " very good! you are very strong, few people manage to pass the 3 levels. You convinced me, you will stay 2 months with me, I will train you, and when you are finished, Gorrio will come to look for you and he will take you to planet Vega to see Tim who will give you the S exam."

Chapter 7: The Supreme Crown Spark: "It's good we at the crown, send the signal to Bastia" Justin : " "Am I dreaming or did you just give me an order?" Spark: " No, sorry, I didn't want to..." Even before Mr. Spark has had time to finish his sentence, Justin has advanced towards him and he has given him a punch that has pierced his stomach, liters of blood dripping on the ground. Justin spreads his legs and flexes his massive biceps, while watching in disgust Mr. Spark lying on the floor bleeding out. Justin: " I am the only one who is able to become the new Master, when my plan is implemented I could be more powerful than Baram. As for you Suavez, you will become my new slaves." Spark : " Uh... Yes I can't do anything to your power, I'll be your worshipers" Justin leaves school, chest bulging, with the crown and his new toy. And he sends a signal by telepathy to General Bastia. .............. Back at the hidden base with Mr GORRIO who is fighting a fierce fight against General Bastia and his three students who are dominated by hooded warriors. It's a show of sexy bodybuilders, bulging muscles, gallons of sweat, anyone who likes big guys could get a hard-on in front of it. Bastia : "It's good we at the crown, well done Justin, well I think we can go. Withdraw you my warriors!" And in a snap of the fingers Bastia and her warriors vanishes." Jeff: " we have been dominated, what do we do now Mr. GORRIO?" After asking this question, our three friends look at their teacher in terror, Mr. GORRIO's eyes turn red with anger, we could see his muscles grow under his t-shirt and a superhuman aura spread around him. Gorrio : " WE WILL GET REVENGE!!!!!!" Max : " But I have a question, what is the power of the supreme crown? " After a few minutes Mr GORRIO calms down and goes to his three students. Gorrio: " very well listen carefully to what I am going to tell you" ................. It all happened 20,000 years before our era, an elderly archaeologist discovered a mysterious crown in the heart of a pyramid. he holds the crown in his hands and he feels an intense power, the energy of the crown is so strong that it disintegrates the archaeologist, the crown falls to the ground and 5 gods divinely muscular without escape. But beware ! these gods are not just anyone, they are the 5 gods of destruction, (Xeram, Levi, Gormo, Agaris and Zelo). They are beings who thirst for power and destruction, they have destroyed thousands of civilizations. Zelo : "" Oh yes! the guy who summoned us is dead so it means we won't have to obey our summoner!" Xeram : " Yes it's so good I'm going to be able to destroy planets with my babies" He said, bouncing his pecs the size of 100 bowling balls. After centuries of terror and destruction it is 19,000 years after the reign of the 5 gods ended, it is the most powerful superhero (Magnus) who confronts them and after 1 year of non-stop fighting that he I had to imprison new ones in the crown, following that he founded a university to hide the supreme crown under guard until today. ............. David : " But we must stop Baram before he invokes the 5 gods!" Gorrio: "Don't worry Baram won't have enough power to summon them, however since his power is only increasing I think that within 3 months he will have enough strength to release the power of the crown. You need to be stronger to come with me to the planet Stix, so you go follow me and I'm going to you two of my colleagues who are the first students to have won the S exam, with me the three gods will be reunited . And off they go for the planet Roven to meet the first student to win the S exam. ...................... During his time on the planet Stix, after bringing the crown back to Master Baram, Justin returns to his luxurious room with his slaves. And he sees a mysterious man waiting impatiently for Justin in his room. Justin walks over and kisses the man. Justin : " Hi Thomas! I missed not seeing your sublime body for a long time" Thomas: " I missed you too " He said stroking Justin's cock. " So when are you finally going to take over? " Justin: " "It's coming soon don't worry, my plan is going wonderfully, in 3 months even the gods of destruction will be afraid of me" To be continued.....

(it was supposed to be part 6 but I made a mistake and put two parts 4, so I decided that there would be 2 chapters in part 4 ) ................... Chapter 6: Master Baram's Evil Plan Gorrio, Jeff and Max: "WHAT!? Bastia is your brother?" David : " Yes I have a brother but I didn't think he was working for the enemy. Listen Bastia, Baram de Manipule, once he gets what he wants he..." Before David has even had time to finish his sentence, Bastia appears in front of him, places his hand under his neck, and he lifts him in the air. Bastia : " HAHAHA!!!!! Scumbags like you don't belong in my family. You're Nothing next to me!" He flexes his bicep. "Look at the power I hold!" Mr GORRIO rushes at Bastia and he punches him in the abdomen which forces him to let go of David, then he punches Bastia again in the pectorals so hard that his throws him, the blow is so strong that the he shock wave cracks the earth and pushes the clouds apart. General Bastia gets up, a smile on his face, and cracks his bull's neck. Bastia : " So that's the power of someone who passed the S exam. You are very strong, I feel like I'm going to have fun" Gorrio : "Can I ask you a question? Your base isn't very well hidden, so I guess you wanted to be found, but why? I ask you a question? Your base isn't very well hidden, so I guess you wanted to be found, but why?" Bastia : " Okay if you insist I will reveal to you master Baram's plan, we wanted our spy infiltrated in your university to locate our base and inform the professors, following that master Baram knew that we would send you your best warrior to know Mr GORRIO and his three best students while leaving the school defenseless. Besides, it makes me think that Justin must have already arrived at your place. HAHAHAHA!!!!" Gorrio : " IT WAS A TRAP!! YOU THREE COME BACK TO UNIVERSITY AND GO DEFEND IT! " Bastia : " No you're not going anywhere, it's time to summon my warriors." Suddenly Bastia flies through the air, his eyes turn shadowy black and he begins to bounce his massive pecs. "COME MY WARRIORS I SUMMON YOU! !!!". A Magic circle appears on the ground and three super muscular guys wearing balaclavas and masks appear." ................. During his time at the university, Justin Exterminates the students one after the other. Two students were kissing when Justin came up behind them, grabbing their heads and smashing them together. Another student doing his bodybuilding when Justin and arriving behind him, he put his cock in the student's ass, he released a load that shredded his body. Faced with this spectacle of domination, two students knelt down for him to save their lives, a guy starting to lick one of his feet when Justin lifted his other foot and he exploded the guy's. Bits of brain and blood stuck to Justin's foot. He walks towards the other frightened student and he takes his head to come and blow it up against Justin's enormous pectorals. He arrives in front of the hall of relics, with a punch he disintegrates the guard and the door. Justin: " Finally the supreme crown is Ours!!" When he was about to take it, he was interrupted by Mr SUAVEZ. Suavez: "Get out of the Justin!!!!!" Justin : " And what are you going to do otherwise?" Mr SUAVEZ rushes Justin and he gives him an uppercut in his face. Justin hasn't moved an inch, he's there with his hands on his hips, bulging out his chest, and dominating his former teacher. He flexes his right biceps and with his left hand he lifts Mr SUAVEZ as if he weighed nothing. "You're so weak, I'll crush you no problem!" Spark: " Wait Justin! He could still be useful to us" Justin drops Mr SUAVEZ. Justin : " It took you a long time, but Master Baram is proud of you, your information about the university has served us well." Suavez: " Um....How's that Spark? are you a spy?" Spark: " Yes I work for Master Baram" To be continued.......

(since I like my story I think I will do a lot of chapters) ................. Chapter 5: Walk in the Jungle On the planet Stix General Bastia prepares to report to Master Baram Bastia: "General Bastia to the Master report, following your orders I destroyed the Twin planets CYRA and PYTHRA and saw that Justin destroyed the planet Xaldin, the Natal planet of Max, M University will no longer have to ally who to rely on" Baram: " CONGRATULATIONS GENERAL BASTIA! YOU DESERVE A REWARD" Master Baram makes a goblet appear with his magic and he fills it with a strange liquid that comes out of his bulging pectorals Baram: " DRINK!!" Bastia : " Thank you Master" General Bastia drinks the glass in a second, he puts his hands behind his head and without the power to increase in his body, his muscles grow bigger and bigger, a golden aura spreads around him Baram: "LOVE TO SEE YOU GROW IN POWER, I'M GOING TO TAKE A PICTURE AND HANG IT ON THE WALL OF MY BEST FIGHTERS" Baram: " NOW GO, JUSTIN MUST HAVE ALREADY ARRIVED ON PLANET MAGNUS" Bastia : " Yes Master" And in a second General Bastia and left for the planet Magnus" ................. Meanwhile, on the planet Magnus, we find our three Friends and Mr GORRIO trading in the middle of the jungle towards the enemy's hidden base. David: " How hot is it! my big muscles are dripping with sweat. Why not fly straight to base? With our super speed, we would have got there in 2 seconds." Gorrio : " Because if we use our powers the enemy will notice us from miles away, and it feels good to walk you can see my beautiful muscles rippling with every step" Watching their divine teacher walk past them, the three friends can't help but touch their hard cocks Gorrio : "we're going to stop here for the night" The three friends stop right in front of a big rock that looks like a toe. They look up and see a huge statue depicting a very, very muscular man, wearing gold boots and gloves, black underpants, a red cape, and a crown adorned with diamonds. Gorrio: " I present to you Magnus, the founder of our university and it is also the name of our planet, we are going to sleep here and we will resume our journey tomorrow morning" A few hours later our three Friends and their teacher are sitting around the campfire. Gorrio: "Alright, let's make a game, it'll teach me to know you better, I'm going to ask you a question and if you lie to me because I will be if you lie to me, you'll get a pledge. I'm going to ask Jeff first. Am I turning you on? " Jeff: " Yes of course you excite me!" Gorrio : " It's good you didn't lie, now question for David. Are you willing to kill someone to get your S exam?" David: " No of course not !" Gorrio : " sorry you're lying. You're going to have a pledge, you're going to massage my pecs while I ask my question to Max." David gets up and starts massaging his teacher's pecs, they're so huge it would take at least 5 other guys to fully cover them Gorrio : " 'Max here is your question, who are you in love?" After a few minutes of silence Max gets up and says "sorry I can't say it" then he goes into the jungle. Jeff: " What's happening to him?" Gorrio: " I'll go talk to him during this time go to sleep, we must be in good shape for tomorrow." 2 minutes later, Mr GORRIO joins Max at the edge of a cliff. Gorrio :" Why don't you want your friends to know you're in love with Justin?" Max : " Because Justin is a big asshole, he went over to the enemy, he destroyed my home planet and he betrayed the university. If Jeff and David find out I still have feelings for him or they'll dump me." Gorrio : " Don't let your emotions cloud your judgement. I'm going to tell you a story that I've never told anyone. Before Baram was the leader of the planet Stix there was another leader, it was my father. One day my father came to challenge me because he was jealous of my divine power, following a fierce fight I finally tore his head from his body. After his death his apprentice, Baram, took his place and he is even more dangerous than my father was. You see I love my dad deeply but college comes first. And when you have to come face to face with Justin you have to do what is necessary." And it is sure these wise words that the two men return to camp to rest and wait for the big day that awaits them. The next day, our adventurers arrive at the enemy base, they are hidden behind bushes and await the decision of their teacher. Bastia: " Go! I want everything ready in 10 minutes!" Gorrio : " Oh shit! it's going to complicate things, I wouldn't think General Bastia would come here. Good you three stayed here! Bastia and far too powerful for you" Mr GORRIO gets up and contracts his biceps, causing a shock wave that sends the general's soldiers waltzing. Bastia : " Oh look who we have there, the divine professor and his little shrimps, I don't think I'm going to have fun!" Gorrio : " SHUT UP AND FIGHT!!!!!!!" And when the two behemoths are about to give the first blow, David intervenes in the middle and shouts "STOP". David : " "Please stop Mr. GORRIO, General Bastia, he's...he's my big brother!" To be continued.....

(Thanks again for your feedback, you will see in part 3 a new character appears) .................. Chapter 3: My Best Enemy David: "well come on Max, are you going to pick up your fucking laptop?" Max: " euh.... yes sorry". Max begins to take his cell phone in his hand, his massively muscled arm shaking in fear, he brings it to his ear and says.... "Hi Justin " Justin: " HAHAHAH, hello my friend it's been a long time since we spoke, I hope your last year is going well? " Max: " I AM NOT YOUR FRIEND! Ever since you betrayed me in second year, it's all been over between us. And what are you doing calling me now? it's been at least 6 years that we haven't spoken" Indeed during the second year Justin did a dirty trick to Max, but let's go back to see what happened ........................... JUSTIN Everything happens 6 years ago, at the beginning of the second year. Justin and Max just got their reward for finishing the exam, while Max gets his muscles when he fucks a freshman in the bathroom, Justin sleeps peacefully in his bed when he gets his muscle gift. While he was having a steamy dream, you could see his muscles growing, his abs becoming a shredded, sweaty 8-pack, his pecs growing so big he couldn't see his titanic legs growing, his arms real tree trunks, they become so muscular and heavy that they break the bed. He suddenly wakes up and begins to see his transformation, they touch each other everywhere to see if it's real. "OHH FUCK! THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL," he said, bouncing his pecs in front of his mirror. "I want a lot more!". Three days later Justin broke into a professor's office and stole a black magic book. A mischievous smile forms on his face. He goes back to his dorm and stands in front of Max who is sleeping, he goes to the last page of the book and starts reciting a hypnosis spell that will allow him to control anyone, Max gets up hypnotized. “HAHA, you belong to me now. you are going to go to the hall of relics and you are going to give me the supreme crown”. Max without saying a word heads towards the room, and when he goes to open it a very muscular guard appears out of nowhere, places his hand around Max's neck and lifts him up as if he weighs nothing. The guard: "YOU'RE GOING TO BE BIG BORED" Spark: " WAIT! DON'T do anything to him!" The guard drops Max to the ground. "Someone stole the black magic book from me, and I think Max was hypnotized" After discovering Justin's Machiavellian plan, he was banished from the planet Magnus. It was only three months later that he landed on the planet Stix where he was collected by Master Baram and he joined the Z academy where all students are taught to destroy all civilizations and superheroes of the universe. He trained like crazy and it's only 1 year after that he became so powerful that he manages to beat without any problem for the last few years. Now he is the delegate of all the classes of the academy and Master Baram considers him as his son. Now back to the present. ............................. Justin: "In fact Max it's been 6 years that we don't know, I'm going to show you the sexy and very powerful man that I've become" Max: "You even got your supervillain costume!?" Justin: " Yes! I have become much more powerful than you! Besides, I carried out my first mission two days ago, do you remember your home planet? the planet Xaldin? Well thanks to my super strength I tore it in two" Max: " YOU ASSHOCK!!!!!!" Max is so pissed his energy is shaking the whole UNIVERSITY." Jeff: " What happens to him?" David : " I don't Know" Justin: "Well it was nice to hear you but I have to go, I have to destroy another planet " Max is so pissed off that he destroys his cell phone in his hand Max ; " JUSTIN I SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU WITH MY HANDS!!!!" To be continued...... (I hope you enjoyed the entry of his new character? Tell me if you prefer lots of small chapters or fewer chapters but longer?)

Thank you very much for your feedback, here is part 2 I hope you like it .................. Chapter 2: Sex Lesson with Mr Suavez The next morning, our three friends wake up in their dorm. David: "Hmmmm damn I slept well! I dreamed that I won the S exam and that I became all-powerful. Ho Max! Are you listening to me? what are you looking out the window?" Max: " I watch Jeff run, watch how his muscles bulge in his tight clothes. he is so powerful that when he runs he cracks the ground more and more" Suddenly Jeff stops running and sees Max and David touching each other erotically looking at him. Seeing them so hot he decided to put on a little show for them, he slowly lifts his tight t-shirt to wipe his head and reveal his gorgeous 8 pack shredded abs dripping with sweat. he then does a few bodybuilding poses (double biceps, pectoral dance...). And finally he turned around and bent down so that Max and David had a front row seat to see his bulging buttocks. The show is interrupted because of Mr. Sparks who walks very angrily towards Jeff. (I put a picture of Mr Spark, I forgot to show it in chapter 1 ) Spark: "HURRY TO GO TO THE COURSE OF Mr SUAVEZ, IF YOU ARE NOT THERE IN A MINUTE YOU CAN SAY GOODBYE TO THE S EXAM!!!!!!". Mr Spark is so impressive that when he gets mad it looks like his muscles are getting bigger. Jeff: " Um...sorry Mr Spark" and as he prepares to leave. Spark: "Jeff! Didn't you forget something?" Jeff: "Um... yes sorry". He gets down on his knees and starts licking Mr Spark's amazing abs. Spark: "That's good, you should always show respect to your superiors. You can go." A few moments later, here they are all standing lined up in Mr SUAVEZ's class, and at the end of the room they see a man from behind looking out the window, he has chocolate-black skin, his back muscles are so wide that 'we could hide at least two students there, her buttocks are so round and rounded that we'll see you biting into them, and finally her calves are real diamonds in the rough. Suavez : " I'm Mr SUAVEZ and to start you all go take off your clothes, I want to see your dick " While the students carry out his orders, Mr SUAVEZ finally turns around and the front of his body is equivalent to the back, a real mountain of muscles, no nuclear machine could stop this monster. He starts looking at all the cocks seriously and very carefully, then suddenly he points to two students Suavez : " Sorry guys my dicks are too small, therefore I'm going to exclude you from this year and you won't have the opportunity to take the S exam" .And in a second the 20 students in the class are at 18" Suavez: " Well you are already aware that when you have your superhero diploma, we will send you to a planet so that you protect the population throughout your life. But like a real alpha male you will probably need to have sex, that's why you will have to fuck humans, but since you are a million more powerful than them you risk dismembering them in a second, so we let's see in this course how to fuck with them gently and have fun." Suavez: " come on Jeff you're going to show them the example." Jeff stands next to Mr SUAVEZ and waits for the rest. And then a human walks into the room, he kneels in front of Jeff and starts licking his feet Suavez : " Don't worry it's normal, humans must always feel inferior to you they owe you infinite respect. Now you are going to put your hand behind his head and you are going to gently put your cock in his mouth." Jeff : " OHHH DAMN THIS IS SO GOOD!!!!!!!" Suavez : " Great ! Now David is going to penetrate you from behind, you may come but you have to hold back so as not to crush the human's head" David walks over to Jeff, he puts his big cock in Jeff's bulging ass, and he starts to come forward, back, come forward ever harder Jeff: "oh fuck I want to cum!!!!!!" Suavez: " HOLD ON FOR 3 MORE MINUTES!!!!" In front of this magnificent show, all the other students ejaculate liters of sperm from their powerful cocks Suavez : " IT'S GOOD HUMAN GET YOUR HEAD OFF HIS COCK QUICKLY!!!!" And 5 seconds later a trail of sperm comes out of Jeff's cock and comes to explode the wall of the class. Suavez : " I'm very proud of you now we're going to move on to the last exercise which is also the hardest. It's you who will penetrate the human's ass" Human gets on all fours and eagerly waits for muscle stud's cock. Jeff follows the advice of Mr SUAVEZ and penetrates the human delicately, he suspends the human in the air so much that he is tall compared to him. he puts his hands around the human's ribs and begins to push him in, then pull him out.... Suavez : " Alright! that will be all for today, we can applaud the human and Jeff our Champion." Clap clap clap. "Now rest you because tomorrow you will have physics lesson with Mr GORRIO" Back in the dorm, Max's cell phone rings, and seeing the name of the guy calling him, his face turns serious and he starts shaking all over. To be continued...... (I hope you like part 2 too, well I'm doing course chapters but I think I'll do lots of little chapters, I hope you'll like it )

Hey guys! Long time lurker with occasional updates to my progress channel. I've finally decided to try my hand at this writing gig lol. Can't wait to give you guys more! Just keep in mind that I intend for this story to have crushing and destruction themes and deals with steroid use. -- PROLOGUE The room was dimly lit and cool. It had all the trappings of an executive board room, minus a view. Along the walls were framed portraits of some of earths greatest heroes, their names engraved below. There was almost a solemn reverence amongst those seated at the table. The heavy looking table was a long marble slab, with papers and folders strewn about but piled in front of each member of the board. It was organized chaos. In front of each of the 10 board members however, one file remained untouched. A single letter was on the front of the folder. “C” It was the second most undesirable superhero tier in existence. C tier meant that you either had useless powers or you simply weren’t marketable by corporations. They both went hand in hand. C tier meant no money and no fame. You simply had powers and existed. The woman at the front of the room coughed slightly, drawing the attention of the board members back to her. She had grey hair, but looked to be at least in her late 40’s. She wore a simple suit and skirt. Her hair was kept in a tight bun, a habit from her days in the Marine Corps. Underneath the smile, you could see that she had more than her fill of experience with Prodigies. From their first discovery around the world, to their integration into Departments of Justice and Defense. She had seen it all. After 20 years, it was starting to show. She had reviewed this file personally several years ago. Personally, she thought he would have had use as perhaps a tank or bullet absorbing wall (making him a B Tier at best), but field observation and pushback from her superiors had forced her to make a different choice. He was capable of destruction on a mass scale, so he had to be regulated in that manner. Now it was time for a Review Board and his name had come up. This time all she could do was make the pitch. Time for the wind up. “Our final reviewee is Jason Stone.” she spoke in a clipped tone as she tapped a glowing button on the table. The room immediate lit up with a dim blue glow. Holographic displays projected a 3D image of the youth onto the table, as well as several paused videos of a truly massive individual. The young man looked as though he was a pro-bodybuilder. Along the lines of Derek Lunsford or Nick Walker. If he was built like a hero, why was he C-Tier? The woman could see the board members becoming restless. This entire meeting had taken at least two hours. If she wanted to help him, she needed their attention. “He’s a 25-year-old Caucasian male and a student at King City University. He has adopted the callsign: Hyper.” And here’s the pitch! She tapped another holographic button. The 3D projection of Jason immediately morphed from pro-bodybuilder into an absolute mass monster. Easily as wide as he was tall. The weight skyrocketed from 225 pounds to 895. His height didn’t even change. Hell, wider. It should be a physical impossibility for a man to be that size and live. Never mind move. Yet here he was. “Hyper’s main ability is muscle growth. Often to extreme lengths,” This was the fun part for her. A bit like showing off a new car model. “The growth and hardness of his muscles makes him impervious to blades weapons and everything short of nuclear and biological attacks. We’ve attempted to find his strength limits, but no machine can find it. Despite his mass and size, he can move almost as well as a normal human. His muscle also allows him to move faster and jump higher and farther.” The looks on the board members faces melted from boredom into shock and awe. A tank of a human, as naked as the day was long, moving with the ease of a normal hero. Again: impossible on every level! The videos displayed various combat operations with the hero. Skyscrapers crumbling and cars being tossed towards a mech that managed to dwarf the mutant. The mutant easily threw the cars like throwing a ball, each impact making the mech stagger. As it started to tip, the mech fired a missile into a fleeing crowd. As it ran its course, Jason dived and intercepted the deadly weapon. It simply exploded against his massive pecs as he used a hand to sweep the remains of the crowd out of his way. The fall, however, resulted in him breaking the asphalt and landing in the sewer system. The surrounding buildings shook appropriately and swayed. One unfortunate (condemned by the city) finally collapsed into rubble. Seconds later the massive mutant stood up from the wreckage and waved as the blurred figures of heroes swept onto the scene and started to assist however they could. The entire video had been ripped from news footage from a drone, but even from the back, the mutant appeared to be some kind of god. The woman closed the videos to observe the looks of the board members. At least three of them were blushing and sweating. The others that weren’t looked as though this was going to simply be another headache for cleaning up. Time for the bad news. “However, as you’ve clearly seen, the enormous power and size does come with trade-offs,” she hated this part. “His only assumed weaknesses are nuclear and biological warfare. He also has very little control over how much he can grow or the speed at which he grows.” She brought up another video. The man screamed in pain as his body lurched and swelled from the power, his clothes bursting off as he grew at an uneven and terrifying rate. Despite the misshapen beginning, the result was a true monster that should be feared. “He also can’t swim or control his strength in any measurable way.” She could already tell what the answer would be. She almost felt sorry for the kid whom she never met. “It says here that the running cost of cleanup can run into the billions, Mrs. Sanders” the gentleman at the head of the table said. His tone was even. Not unimpressed, but not shocked either. He too had seen his share of Prodigies. This one had been regulated for a reason. “Why should we take the risk of letting him work with the agency? I saw the after-action report on that operation. He’s directly responsible for injuring 5 people and killing 2 more. He’s a hero with a fucking body count!” The woman opened her mouth to answer but drew a blank. She had the right words but no idea how to say them. “Let me take him.” The voice came from a young man near the head of the table. Much to the chagrin of everyone else his feet were up on the table, and he looked more relaxed than bored or horny. The look on his face was one of complete ease. “Director Stevens, I don’t-“ one of the members started until the man sat up in his chair and held up a finger, silencing the naysayer. “First of all. It’s Junior Director. I’m here in place of my boss. Second, the whole point of the Special Crimes Unit is to prevent potential supervillains from becoming actual supervillains.” He gestured to the paused videos floating around the room. “That right there? That’s a potential supervillain. Would you rather have him work for us or for the bad guys?” The various members of the board shared looks around the table. Unfortunately, he was right. The mutant they had just seen certainly wasn’t capable of world domination and control. But he could level cities in minutes if he was left unchecked. The solution seemed simple. “All in favor of a tier upgrade and hire by Special Crimes?” Stevens said with a cheeky grin. A chorus of “ayes” were mumbled around the table. The chief was reluctant but picked up a green stamp and marked the file before handing it to the young man. The look he gave Stevens was one that could kill. It sent a clear message. Learn your place. “He’s all yours… Junior Director.”

Chapter 1 Brian Salk was walking down the street in a tight-fitting T-shirt, the kind that clung to him so snugly that you could see all of his muscles beautifully pressed against the fabric. People who saw him thought he lived a charmed life as one of the world’s youngest self-made billionaires, at 25 he was the latest wonder kid to make it big in the tech industry. He was on the cover of magazines and billboards. The media was taken by his other talents as well, particularly his prowess as a body builder. Shirtless photos of “the Billion Dollar Six Pack” were everywhere. That combined with his ability to speak 10 languages, play piano and violin like a virtuoso, and his status as a chess master made him into quite the modern-day renaissance man. Brian didn’t mind the attention. He liked people checking him out. It was the closest he could get to imagining what being in a relationship was like. His father, to whom he felt he owed everything, did not approve of his son being in a relationship, not because he was gay. His sexuality was common knowledge and all of his “brothers” were (something that was not common knowledge). Rather he and the old man shared a secret, the key to all of Brian’s successes. A secret that if the world were to know, could end Brian’s freedom forever. Brian was the last of the “Children of AIM” (AIM being the Army Institute of Mutagenesis). A military agency devoted to the development of the American Supersoldier. After a disaster that led to the catastrophic quarantine of an entire town, and the “loss” of one of the founders of the program, the project was deemed as too dangerous to continue. The three remaining super soldier subjects or, “Children of AIM” as they were known, were sent to various families within the United States to be raised as normal children. However, Dr. Gregory Salk was unable to say goodbye to the child he had created undertook to raise the boy as his own son and hone his abilities for the good of humanity. His superior intelligence and athletic prowess were the result of billions of dollars of secret investment. But Brian had abilities that went far beyond that. As a gift from his treatments at AIM, he could change his body size and musculature at will, a skill that would have made him nearly invincible on the battlefield. As he was now a free man, that particular talent was no longer strictly needed. It did however come in handy in another of Brian’s hobbies. You see, Brian always felt the need to give back to society, so he led another life, the life of a crime fighting hero. A life that was about to be tested once again. “Hey Brian!” came a familiar voice. “Huh?” he said, looking around. “Oh! Hey Jake!” Jake’s father owned a bank and as his son, he managed all of his charitable work. Being a philanthropist himself, Brian ran into him all the time, which was torture because Jake was the most gorgeous man that he had ever seen and the young billionaire was head over heels for him. To make matters worse Jake was openly gay and single. Brian hated having to keep his feelings a secret. To be fair, Brian only thought he was keeping it a secret. Anyone with half a brain could see the way he blushed whenever Jake walked in a room or fumbled for words. Or the way his package bulged up whenever Jake touched him. “I was just grabbing some coffee big guy,” Jake said, walking over, casually placing a hand on his friend. “You want to join?” “Yeah well… I… uhhh coffee sounds nice… you ummm like coffee?” In truth he’d been on his way to a meeting but those fingers on his arm made him temporarily forget anything about that. “Uh… yeah…” Jake chuckled. “We had coffee together at Autism Gala, and that cancer event before that. For a genius you’ve got a lousy memory.” He said gently prodding his large friend in the side. “Oh right… yeah sorry…” he said, blushing and scratching the back of his head. Soon the thoughts began again. He had a condo in this neighborhood. He could just take Jake up there and they could have glorious… “Earth to Brian.” His thoughts were interrupted by a slightly impatient Jake. “You want to join or…?” “Oh… yeah… sure…” he stammered. “Excellent.” Jake took Brian by the arm, effectively leading him like a puppy. The two walked a few blocks together and were having a great time enjoying their coffee when Brian’s highly engineered hearing picked up a disturbing sound. “Gimmie da cash or I use your guts to paint dese bricks!” That was followed by the sound of someone pleading. “Crap…” He pulled out his phone as cover. “Look I’m really sorry, I’ve got to run!” “Always on the run…” Jake sighed. Without another word Brian jumped up from the table. As soon as he was out of Jake’s line of vision he ducked into an empty alley and pulled a spandex wrestling mask from his back pocket and placed it over his head. Then he pulled off his shirt and pants, stuffing them away into the backpack that he always carried with him and hid it in a corner of the alley, revealing nothing but a tight stretchy bottom. Clenching his teeth and concentrating on his body, his already impressive biceps began to bulge out, his famous six pack bulged into an eight pack, his back muscles went into a state of upheaval as his traps and delts began to broaden. His pecs ballooned out, forcing his nipples even lower. His clingy shorts were stretching against his inflating bubble butt and thighs. He was becoming… The Tank. As his body swelled with more and more muscle he began to grow taller, passing 6’ 6’’ then seven feet. The rush of power flowing through his veins was incredible as pound after pound filled into his body. He passed the 8-foot mark with 800 pounds of raw muscle with arms and legs the size of tree trunks, abs bulging out like grapefruits, with lats that pushed his arms outward. Time for action. He bounded away after the sound, leaping over the street as agile as a deer, darting from alley to alley as if he were flying until he came upon what he was looking for. Three guys had a Somali immigrant pinned to the wall. “I told ya, if ya don’t buy de insurance in dis country, bad t’ings can happen!” “Please… I wont have enough to feed my kids if I pay that much!” he begged. “Sounds like your company needs to go out of business.” It wasn’t the best line but Brian was working on that part of the job. “What da hell?” One of the thugs looked up just a trash can came hurtling at them, knocking two of them off their feet. The remaining one looked up at the behemoth standing before him and realized his worst nightmare had found him. The bulging, masked goliath took a few steps toward him. “De Tank…” he muttered, legs shaking like noodles, and pulled out a gun. Before he could get off a shot, The Tank had slammed a massive elbow into his gut, sending him flying into a nearby chain link fence. He turned to the immigrant. “Get out of here!” But there was no need for that. He’d already taken off down the alley. Brian reached down to the two thugs he’d knocked down with the trash can and picked them up by their shirts. “Now I want to get one thing clear with you punks.” He growled, his voice deep and booming. “There’s gonna be no insurance racket in this town as long as I have anything to say about it. So if I see you again you better have a new occupation.” Suddenly there was a loud bang and flash of pain in his left arm. He knew it instantly, he’d been shot… again. The man he’d knocked into the fence had gotten up and pulled out another gun. He effortlessly hurled the two miscreants on top of his assailant and walked over to the pile and picked up the dropped hand gun as a steady trickle of blood ran down his arm. “You know, that just pisses me off,” he said crushing the weapon in his other hand. “You better be pretty glad I’m not like you.” He said dropping the useless pile of metal. Unhooking a belt from his waist, he stretched it out and wrapped around the three of them. “That ought to hold you.” He said clipping it together, causing a light to begin to flash. Once locked it was nearly impossible for them to get out. The homing beacon would alert the police, and an electronic USB stick would play a recording of the event. He might even make the news tonight, he thought as he bounded away back to the alley where he had dumped his clothes. When he got there, he flexed his arm until the bullet popped out. They never went in very deep. Shrinking back down to his usual size, he pulled a compression bandage out of the backpack and wrapped it around his arm. Bullets didn’t do much damage when he was ‘tanked out’ (as he liked to call it) and his modified body was pretty good at healing without a scar but they did hurt. It was like getting stung by a giant hornet. Quickly getting his clothes on he headed up to the condo he owned in the neighborhood to get cleaned up, sending an email to his colleagues that he was sorry to have missed the meeting. He had five new text messages but one of them in particular was difficult to answer. It was from Jake. “See you around, handsome. Maybe one day you won’t be too busy to hang out.” It bit him to the core. He felt like he would have given anything to have been able to finish that cup of coffee with him. ‘But then that man might not have been able to go home to his kids.’ He heard his father’s voice in his head. That evening, his walk back to Mid Town where he and his father made their primary dwelling on several floors of a skyscraper was a lonely one. “You really could have built me to make the bullets hurt less,” he told his father Gregory that night as the 65-year-old gently attended to the wound. The old man laughed. “You should have seen how some of the other super soldiers reacted. Some of them had better healing than you do and they would scream and run away at the mere sight of a gun.” “Maybe that’s what I should do,” Brian grumbled. “You’re the one who chose to be ‘The Tank’. I would have been just as happy for you to devote your life to computers, arts or science,” his father said. “But I’m proud of you. Every person you save makes my life’s work seem more worthwhile.” He smiled and then added, “Also if you wouldn’t grow so large you wouldn’t make such an easy target. I’m sure you don’t have to be so massive to deal with street thugs.” Brian chuckled. “Do you want to take away the one really fun part of my life?” His father sighed. “I suppose not.” “I met Jake today for a coffee.” Brian threw in as casually as he could. “Oh? How’s his family doing. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen his father.” “They’re fine I guess. I… mostly forgot to ask,” Brian said with a sigh. “You know… we do a lot of charity work, we should plan an event with them or…” “Brian…” his father said, sealing the wound with a special adhesive he’d invented for his son. “Is that really a good idea? I know how you feel about him. There is such a thing as tormenting yourself for no reason.” “Well I wouldn’t have to torture myself if you’d let me see him,” Brian retorted. “And what would he think of us?” Gregory said, “What would he think of our life?! Of who and what you really are?” He sighed and patted his son on his uninjured shoulder. “The army is clear on this. If people find out about AIM through you, they will ‘reposess’ you. It took everything in my power to get them to release you to me when you were 18 months old… I don’t have the connections that I used to have.” “Well what if he doesn’t know?” Brian asked. “I don’t have to tell him!” “Son you grow in your sleep sometimes… It took me four months to design a bed that you wouldn’t break when you were 12. When you get too “excited” you start to morph. These are things you just can’t hide from a partner.” “Well, why can’t you just fix those things?” Brian said. “You come up with solutions to everything else.” “I gave you a mind easily a match for mine, and it’s still young and in its prime. If anyone could fix the kinks of the super soldier program it would be you,” Gregory said. “But I think that Pandora’s box is left closed. You are the last of them… and the most functional I might add.” He said with a bit of pride. “Right now I’d give anything to just be normal. To finally know what it’s like to truly be with someone,” Brian muttered. “I know it’s hard… I’ve had to make the same sacrifices you have. You’re all I’ve got.” The big guy heaved a remorseful sigh. “I’m sorry Father. You’re right.” “Why don’t you stay in tonight.” His father said, patting him on the back. “You’ve done enough for one day. I’ve got something I need to work on in the lab.” Brian was left alone to look out over the city lights. While he was designed to easily be able to go many nights without sleep, and he often did, this particular day felt like it needed to end. So he went to bed. That night he tossed around in his sleep. His dreams were troubled by visions of masked men dressed in black, hunting him down. He jerked himself awake in bed with a loud “No!” and looked down at his swollen body, buffed up by the fear in his nightmare. The pounding of his heart echoed his head. He’d only gained about 100 pounds in his sleep this time. “Perhaps Dad’s right… I just can’t control this.” His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. “Uh… yes?” The door opened and to his shock, Jake stepped into the room. “I heard you shouting and I thought you might need some company.” “How… how did you get in here?” Brian stammered pulling the sheets over his naked body. His dream growth shredded anything comfortable he could sleep in. “Does it matter? I’m here now,” he said walking over to the bed. “Do you want me to leave?” “No… no… I just don’t get…” Brian was fumbling with his words as Jake pulled off his shirt and began to crawl on top of the sheets over to him. He’d seen that lovely chest before, at socials where there was a pool. His cock was throbbing, he’d wanted to touch that body so often and here it was crawling into his bed. Jake climbed onto of his massive target and straddled him before licking those massive pecs which began to swell under his touch. “Fuck… no! I can’t… not in front of… awww fuck.” It felt so good. Jake pressed his lips against Brian’s’ and massaged those nipples as his inflating pecs pushed them downward. “Mmmmm, that’s a neat trick. Why didn’t you tell me about it before?” Jake said licking Brian’s traps, making their veins pop out as they bulged into his face. “Didn’t… think… you’d understand…” Brian said, gently pulling down Jake’s pants so he could feel that luscious ass of his. “I only understand that I’ve never wanted anything more,” Jake said, pulling down the sheets and driving his cock into Brian’s massive abs. “God, you’re incredible,” Brian moaned as his abs bulged around the cock that was riding up and down the slit between them. “Wanted this for so long,” he said, growing taller as the man he’d wanted to be with more than any other began to move up and down his massive frame. His balls began to swell larger than fists as his cock began to grow, poking Jake in the back. “Seems like someone’s ready to play,” Jake said reaching and stroking the massive rod. “Never… done this… before,” Brian moaned. “Let me show you how it’s done,” Jake whispered and mounted the giant member and slowly slid himself down on it. Brian’s balls were so excited that they began to swell like mad first to cantaloupes then to basketballs. His cock grew to 24’’ and Jake had to balance himself on the giant balls to ride it. Brian could feel his ass expanding into an enormous bubble butt. Jake took notice and reached down to squeeze it while he could still reach it. His fingers spread the massive ass cheeks expanded in his hand. The reinforced bed was beginning to creak and strain under the new weight as Brian’s biceps grew larger than Jake’s entire torso. He passed 8’ 6’’ as his balls swelled to the size of beach balls. Each of his massive pecs weighed over 100 pounds of raw muscle as he bounced them in delight. Jake felt the expanding lats pushing even further out from Brian’s massive sides. As he was skewered on the enormous dick like a toy. Pre-cum started to gush out of that giant cock, overflowing Jake’s ass and spilling out down his enormous shaft, completely soaking the bed. “Awww fuck I’m gonna cum!” Brian shouted when suddenly an alarm went off. He opened his eyes as one of his massive balls slid off the cum soaked bed and bounced onto the floor, stretching his sweaty nutsack. A jet of cum blasted him in the face as his balls unloaded onto no one but himself. He was alone it had been a wet dream. His body had expanded so much that the bed alarm had gone off to wake him. Brian had passed the 1000-pound safety limit. He coughed a little as another massive blast of cum covered his face and chest in spunk. He laid there panting for a moment, unable to shrink just yet. The hottest thing he’d ever imagined had just happened and it wasn’t even real. He idly rubbed his cum soaked nipple wishing so hard that Jake could be there but he’d proven his father’s point. As globs of jizz rolled down the bedsides he realized that being intimate with anyone was going to mean revealing his true identity.

This is my first story I've ever posted on here! Let me know what you think and what you think I could improve as I move forward with writing this! If you have an suggestions on where the story should go, don't be scared to leave those too! I'm still brainstorming where this might go! The AntiHero Chapter 1: Frankie no more... Frankie was just your ordinary lad. He wasn’t too muscular, not too athletic, and not at all coordinated. In fact the only thing he had going for him was his devilishly handsome face and his charming grin. Other than that Frankie was the definition of average at best. This was a big difference compared to Quinn, Frankie’s longtime rival who consistently one-upped everything Frankie tried to do. Quinn was a lad’s lad. He had the good looks, fit body, and boyish charm to get any girl swooning. He knew it too. Quinn exuded confidence and always walked around like his shit didn’t stink. He’d consistently take sexy shirtless selfies with a seductive grin for his Instagram and other socials. Day by day, Frankie could do nothing but watch his rival get all the attention and praise. Frankie was sick of living as the “average at best” kinda guy. But he didn’t know how to change it. For months he went to bed wishing every night that something would change. That he could become the better man. A real “man” among the “men”, if you know what I mean. Halloween was quickly approaching, and for once Frankie wished he could be the hunk at the costume party that was strutting around in a seductive getup. But alas, once again it would be Quinn who would most likely come dressed up as some sexy superhero, a spartan warrior, or a chippendale dancer. At least…. this is how it was supposed to be. But sometimes plans change and people change too. In fact, Frankie’s wishes may just be coming true after so many months of hope. Soon he’ll be this “man” among the men. And soon he’ll be the one strutting around the costume party in a sexy head turning getup. It was on Halloween morning when the mysterious package that would do all this arrived at Frankie’s door. Frankie was sitting and watching TV just like he does any other day, when the doorbell rang. He wasn’t expecting anyone or anything, so he was quite off-put when he opened the door to a package at his feet. He looked around for a few moments before picking up the box and bringing it inside. “Maybe it was dropped at the wrong address” Frankie thought. But alas, his name and address was on the box. Curiously, Frankie began slicing open the taped up edges with a box cutter. “I wonder what’s inside” he pondered under his breath. As he flipped open the cardboard lids, Frankie was not only taken back by what he saw, but also beginning to feel a pit of rage in his gut. “Fucking Quinn’s such an asshole” Frankie snarled through gritted teeth as he pulled out the contents. He held up what looked like a military vest and then threw it aside. His face became redder and redder as he went in for the second item in the box. He wrapped his hands around the leather straps and metallic clasps. He instantly knew what this was. “The prick thought it would be funny to get me a bane costume.” Knowing it would look awful on his slim frame, Frankie was infuriated and humiliated at the same time. There was no way he could go to the costume party now. “I bet Quinn is probably gonna wear the same costume too, just to show me up” Frankie internally sulked. He threw the mask aside, not noticing the note that was sitting at the bottom of the box. Hours passed as Frankie sat defeated, stuffing his face with junk food. The annual Halloween party was in just 45 minutes, so at this point Frankie couldn’t even think about getting another costume ready. He felt every negative emotion in the book. He was ashamed with his physical form, but also loathed the fact he was gonna miss the opportunity to attend this event. That’s when something strange happened. His phone began buzzing to a mysterious text from an unknown number. “Put the mask on Frankie, we will be one soon. Just be patient.” “What the fuck is this shit. Is he really texting me from a fake number now?” Frankie growled. “You know what fuck Quinn. I’m going to go to the party dressed as bane and be perfectly confident. That will show him.” Frankie stormed over to the box and grabbed the mask. He began to pull it over his head, and it immediately fit quite snugly around his jaw. As Frankie squeezed the mask over the back of his head, he felt a several slight stings, almost as if he was being pricked by several needles in the back of his skull. “Must just be my hair getting caught” he thought to himself. But Frankie was quite wrong. The second Frankie put the mask on, his fate was sealed and forever changed. Almost immediately, Frankie began to feel an enormous amount of pressure in the back of his head and temples. At first he thought he was going to pass out, but this sensation was quite different. Frankie felt buzzed, and quite energized. Without warning, the pain began shooting down his spine and then out towards his lats. As the pain wrapped itself around his rib cage, Frankie could feel a heat flooding his body. It went down each arm into the fingertips, through his legs, and even into his groin. “What the fuck is happening to me!” Frankie squealed in a high pitch scream of terror. He grabbed the back of the mask and attempt to pry it off his scalp, but it was just too tight. Even more, it felt like the back of the mask was latched inside his skin where the pinching feeling was felt. The pain was rapidly increasing and that’s when it began… Frankie heard a loud crack as an unbearable pain shot down his spine. He let out a blood curdling scream as his spine began stretching his frame taller. “No! Make it stop, please!” Frankie whimpered as he fell on his hands and knees to the floor. “I don’t want this anymore!” He slammed his hands into the floorboards as the unbearable pain shot to his lats and ribcage which began cracking and spreading wider apart. To Frankie’s surprise, his hit caused the wooden board to crack and splinter. “So fucking strong” Frankie moaned animalistically. There was an evil gleam in his eye for a second, but he quickly snapped out of it. “No! Did I just fucking do that.” He winced. “This isn’t me. I’m a gentle guy.” He sat on those words for a few seconds before beginning to snicker to himself. “I’m not gentle. I’m fucking powerful and dominant” he growled sadistically. As he said this, the pain moved into his chest and biceps. Interestingly, the pain wasn’t bothering Frankie as much. He actually liked how it was beginning to feel. Every second he was feeling more and more manly. More authoritative. More godly. Frankie snapped back into reality when he saw the veins in his forearms begin to plump. As they pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, they grew green in color and began to push against his tightening skin. Frankie watched in horror as his forearms and biceps grew thick and solid. A spider web of veins entangling around them. With his voice trembling, he whimpered “please no more!” He stood up and once again tried to rip the mask off. Despite his arms being much stronger, the mask still wouldn’t un-latch itself from the back of his skull. Frankie was beginning to feel angrier than ever. But with this anger came a feeling of power and an even greater desire for more power. He began puffing his chest out, giving his pecs room to expand into big, veiny globs full of muscle sinews. Frankie’s Black T-shirt was stretching to its limits. Any onlooker would have just assumed he was wearing an athletic compression shirt if they didn’t know it was once quite loose fitting on his frame. “Fuck this feels so good” Frankie growled while throwing his head back, letting his pecs and lats extend to their full size. At this moment, his shirt snapped open and slid off his arms. In one swift motion Frankie threw his fist at the wall, creating a crumbling crater in the cement and wood barrier. Frankie cackled and sneered a cocky grin. Frankie moved to a nearby mirror to see the god... - I mean “man” - he was turning into. Upon seeing his reflection the real Frankie suddenly came back. “No! This isn’t who I’m supposed to be. This is a monster. I’m not…” He stopped talking, transfixed on his expanding legs, which he now didn’t even notice were in a great deal of pain. In a deeper octave than just seconds ago he muttered “I AM a monster.” The hulking beast emphasized the word AM. As the last of the masks venom spread through his body, Frankie let out a guttural and baritone growl raising his biceps into a double bicep pose. “Fuck ya! I am a monster! I am fucking bane!” Bane felt an instant urge to use his strength… to break something. The first thing that came to mind was the couch his former self was sulking on all night. With a single hand he lifted the 900lb object over his head. “I’m so strong... So powerful. This feels fucking fantastic!” As he said this, Frankie… -I mean Bane - brought the couch down onto his knee, cracking it in two. He no longer feared the beast he was becoming. In fact inside little Frankie was beginning to lose himself to the power that he felt. He loved that he had become an inhumanly strong god among men. He loved that his muscles were absolutely bulging with striations and chiseled beyond belief. And most of all, he loved that he was going to show Quinn what a real “man” is supposed to be. Frankie grabbed the vest that was sitting in the box and tried to strap it over his shirtless torso, but there was no way it was going to fit. “Fuck it, I look better shirtless anyway” he snarled. Then he noticed the note sitting in the bottom of the box. He picked it up and read it aloud with his dense, baritone voice. “Frankie, I’ve chosen you to become the next King of our beings. Just put on the mask and you will be Bane. Attend the party as Bane and I will find you. Then we’ll merge and become strong enough to rule this world and force everyone to bow to our power! I know you want this Frankie. You always have, so just put on the mask.” The note was signed “Venom.” Bane’s bloodthirsty growl said it all. Deep down, the last bit of the innocent Frankie faded. “You’re right Venom. I was born to be a fucking god! I may have been Frankie, but from now on my worshipers will know me only as Bane!!!!” And with that… little Frankie was no more.

Here's another blast from the past written by Lorus for the old forum and saved in my private collection of erotic gems. I'm reposting it here with the author's permission. Mike Hugeman was mentioned in BOOM!, the short story I reposted earlier, so I thought it would be good for readers to know who he is. No one who meets the Hugeman ever forgets him. I certainly haven't. The story has eight episodes followed by a teaser for a sequel. I will post all of them in the same thread. MIKE HUGEMAN SUPER-POWERED MUSCLE WHORE by LORUS Episode 1 The room shook from the force of Ken Preston having the fuck pounded out of his cute bubble-ass. It was his birthday, this day, and he’d used the money he’d gotten from his parents to hire the Hugeman for an afternoon, rather than put it towards his new car. The greatest gay whore in the entire city of Stillbrook didn’t come cheap either, considering he charged five hundred dollars an hour. Not everyone could afford him, but Ken had been building up to this for an entire year of scrimping and saving, deciding that if he was going to lose his virginity, then he was going to do it in style, with the best dick in the world impaling him along its incredible length. “Oh God, this is fucking... ugh... amazing. Don’t...ugh... want it to stop!!!!” Ken was face down on the bed, knees dug into the sheets so that his angelic, heavily lubricated ass pointed upwards. Mike Hugeman, the most super-huge, awesomely massive mega-bodybuilder in the world, rode into the youth with all the experience his craft would ever provide him. He was super-hung, sporting a dick that was a solid eighteen inches long when fully hard. It was thick, too, thicker than a beer can. Given that this was Ken’s first time having sex of any kind, Mike was surprised at just how well he took his meat, imagining the kid probably practiced every day with dildos of ever-increasing dimensions. He loved his work, and was proud of his physical accomplishments, often posing and flexing his enormously pumped muscles during the fucking of his clients. He was versatile, too, and would often grant his customers many of the requests they made of him. Ken was new to this, sure. He would be exhausted afterward, which suited Mike. He had to get to the gym within the hour. It was leg day, and his wheels needed an intense workout. He’d already made the kid shoot his load just by bicep-flexing five minutes after arriving at the dilapidated hotel room. He was used to better surroundings, but reckoned the kid was on a tight budget. Besides, he’d had cockroaches for spectators before, and had fucked in worse places than this. The kid was inexperienced, but his balls were big and round and held a lot of jizz. He would bring him to another incredible orgasm before the hour was up, after which any sex Ken would ever have in his life after this would never match up to the ride he got from the Hugeman. “Take it all in... all of my massive muscle-meat, you little twinkster, yeah fuckin’ moan and scream the Hugeman’s name, ugh yeah!” The bed took as much of a pounding as Ken did, for it groaned under Mike’s huge weight, which was getting close to six hundred pounds, since he’d really thrown himself into his beloved bodybuilding. He loved lifting and he loved fucking. You could say that he lived for these pastimes and nothing else. He was well-known in his native Stillbrook and was totally out about his whoring and his desire to get bigger and stronger. No other gay whore in the city could make the kind of money Mike made, so it could be said that he was the king of his hill, with fuck all in the way of competition. But that was soon to change, along with his life, forever. Meantime, he brought the twinkster to a howling orgasm once again and flared his lats in triumph as his organ, gorged on blood and pumping for all it was worth, penetrated Ken over and over, hurting him in throes of awesome ecstasy from which the eighteen year old hoped he would never recover. Usually, Mike was wider than most doorframes, loving how he had to squeeze sideways just to get in and out of rooms. When he flared his lats it seemed like his body got wider still. Coupled with the rush of his orgasms, his energy levels would peak, and his muscles spring erect and huge. When he flared his lats during ejaculation, he was at his biggest and widest, and the skin across his back groaned in defiance of his increase in size, almost to the point of splitting apart and causing him injury. But it never did. He was strong as an ox... hell... he was strong as a dozen oxen. Ken’s time was almost up. Mike had been pacing himself and could have climaxed long before now. In truth he had a hyperactive sex drive and could easily be ready to orgasm again just two or three minutes after cumming, and his tennis-ball-sized gonads acted rapidly when it came to replenishing their jizz stocks. “Fuck me to death”, pleaded Ken, but Mike would never do that. Despite his ruggedly handsome looks and tough-guy persona, he was pretty much a nice 22-year old Italian American, with only an occasional short fuse, who still found time to visit his Sicilian mama for the best home-cooked pasta in all of Creation. He often joked to his friends that it was his mama’s cooking that was to blame for his enormous muscle-growth. In all honesty, the hunk had no idea why nature had singled him out with such an incredible ability to grow a huge, hulking muscle-bod. He loved getting larger, showing up at get-togethers and causing his friends to gawp in disbelief at how much larger he’d become since they’d last seen him. This got him thinking about the gym, now, and satisfying his other voracious appetites for the good things in life. It was time to blast the twinkster out of it. He gripped the sides of the bed as he gave one final lunge into Ken, his body tensing as it hardened into a seizure of ejaculation. A gushing torrent of creamy spunk erupted from Mike’s eighteen-incher, and he positively adored cumming inside his clients. He didn’t care about disease, for it was impossible to find condoms to fit his gigantic whore’s dick, and his doctor was astounded by the fact that having had unprotected sex with more than four thousand paying clients since he’d started out at just sixteen years of age, that he hadn’t once picked up an STD. He really was a superman in every sense of the word, with a superb immunity to disease that was unprecedented. Ken screamed his loudest as the Hugeman ravaged his hole, pumping a massive load of cum into his body. Even after pulling out of him Mike continued to spurt cum all over his newest client. More and more of the steaming cream soiled Ken and the bed they rode on. Mike then grabbed hold of Ken and firmly turned him around on the bed, so that he was facing up. The look of sheer pleasure on the youth’s face was a sight to behold, and his gaping mouth seemed hungry for Mike’s elixir. He did not disappoint and eagerly shot more and more cum, this time allowing Ken to swallow a great deal of it. “God, it seems I can cum more and more as I get bigger,” Mike bragged and allowed Ken to take his fill. Finally exhausted, Ken slipped into a satisfied slumber, spread-eagled on a grimy bed, and drenched in the Hugeman’s spunk. “My work here is done,” said Mike, and muscle-strutted into the ensuite bathroom to take a shower. The plumbing groaned and spluttered as he lathered himself up with the shower gel from his kit bag. As it was summer, he seldom wore a shirt when he was out in public because he simply loved to show off his gigantic muscle-bod. He was a regular sight on the streets, posing for all he was worth, sometimes allowing guys to come up and touch his thickly-veined muscles, but only if they had cold hard cash for the privilege. Mike Hugeman never gave anything away for free. It simply wasn’t his style. He decided to get ready for the gym here in the hotel room, which didn’t take long. He’d arrived wearing only stretch-denim jeans, his upper body glistening from a mixture of sun-tan lotion and baby oil. Now he placed the jeans in his kit bag and pulled on a sexy pair of black and blue striped spandex workout shorts that did little to tone down the massive bulge his cock and balls formed at their front. He couldn’t wait for it to be larger, too, for it seemed that his cock grew another inch for every fifty pounds of muscle he put on. “Fuckin’ HUGE,” he declared as he bounced the massive shelf of his pecs up and down for a couple of minutes as he dried his ravishing black hair with a hairdryer. He was completely beautiful and loved how his father’s looks married so well with the Italian in him. He’d once been told he looked like a cross between a young John Travolta and Robert Redford. He agreed with this comparison, but reckoned he was many times more handsome than the two actors in their youth. Mike got more and more beautiful with each passing day. He had sparkling blue eyes set beneath a confident brow that complimented his rugged, square jaw-line beautifully. He had full, pouting lips, the bottom larger than the top one, and when they parted to form a smile he had perfect white teeth. He always maintained thick, designer stubble which went well with the curly black hair on some of his chest, which he never shaved. He loved having a lot of hair on his front, and he especially loved how his chest hair tapered down to a fuzzy treasure trail that formed a pleasurable tongue’s highway between his chest hair and his thick but trimmed pubic tuft. At the special request of some of his regular customers, he never shaved his armpits, and the dark bushy growth he had in them was so beautiful, merely lifting his arms and flashing his pits was enough to drive some of his customers to complete, frenzied orgasm. It was time to leave. He sprayed himself with sexy cologne that enhanced his natural masculine musk and flexed some more in the mirror before helping himself to the cash the twinkster left beside the bed. There was a business card sticking halfway out of Ken’s wallet, not that it was any of Mike’s business. But curiosity got the better of him and so he looked at it. And then he got mad... very mad. Episode 2 The sensation that he was no longer asleep, but instead floating mid-air in a slight summer breeze, brought Ken Preston shrieking back to consciousness. He was no longer spread-eagled on a cum-sodden bed, or even in the hotel room, for that matter. Mike Hugeman had taken him up the fire escape to the roof of the hotel. Somewhat maliciously, the massive muscle-whore dangled him over the side, holding him only by his right wrist, like a small child would carelessly carry around a beaten-up old teddy. Beneath him was a twelve story drop that would surely kill him were the Hugeman to let go. “What are you doing to me?” Fear had caused Ken to urinate but thank goodness nothing else came out of him. This didn’t make sense. Why had Mike taken him up to the roof of the hotel? What had Ken done to deserve such a fate? The giant muscleman got to the point somewhat gruffly. “Why do you have an UltraZen business card in your wallet?” In the hands of the Hugeman, Ken Preston hardly weighed anything at all. He leaned out over the edge as far as he could extend his bull-strong arm, causing Ken to kick and dance in mid-air as he tried desperately to get closer to the roof. “I don’t... don’t know what that is, Mike. Puh-pleeeese, let me back in. I’ll pay you more money, I swear. I’ll cash in my college fund.... just please let me...” “That wasn’t the answer I expected, you little bastard. Shit, I think my fingers are losing’ their grip.” Mike feigned a worried look as he pretended to lose hold of the terrified teen. Then, ever so audaciously, Mike ripped off his spandex shorts, causing his dick to spring forth like a striking rattle snake. It instantly grew super-hard and began to ooze copious amounts of precum. He brought Ken in a bit, flipped him around and rammed his ass with his dick, but only halfway along its length. Then he stood perched on the edge of the roof, so that Ken was now once again dangling, held in place by the power of the Hugeman’s cock alone. “Look, mama, no hands,” Mike goofed, and imagined his dick growing bigger and bigger whilst impaling Ken and pushing him ever further from the edge of the roof. To emphasize just how in-control he was of this situation, Mike shot a massive bicep pose, cranking up his guns from their cold size of 32 inches around, to a staggering 42 inches. Whilst Ken quaked in fear on the end of his monster dick, the Hugeman kissed each of his biceps, flexing them harder and harder, forcing more and more blood to distend his veins, bulging them outwards like thick, ropy cables. “Pity you can’t see this from your position, twinkster. You’re missing one hell of a show,” Mike boasted, marveling at how monstrously huge and powerful his guns were becoming. Every day it seemed that he’d grown a little. He was constantly in awe of just how massive he was. But he was never satisfied with his gains. He wanted more and more size, strength, incredible beauty, and unbeatable power. He began to contract the muscles in his groin, causing his dick to bob upwards, still with the terrified young man impaled on it. “Hey this is a great workout for my dick muscles. You must weigh about one-fifty. Hell, I could perch two more of you on my hot super-cock, and still bounce it upwards. I’m just so goddam fucking huge and powerful. I’m so ultra-fucking-gorgeous. But I don’t like to be fucked with. I won’t ask you again, what the fuck is an UltraZen card doing in your wallet?” Sobbing fitfully, Ken was as truthful as he could be. “It’s my dad’s wallet... his spare one. I luh-lost my own a while buh-back... so he gave me his one. It muh-must be his cuh-card.” In the street below, a curious crowd had begun to gather. The Hugeman considered what Ken said, and after a minute decided to let him in. He placed the crying birthday boy down on the rooftop and stood towering over him, his body heaving with power in every sinew and fiber that made him so amazing. He flared his lats somewhat threateningly, but in truth posing helped him to think clearly. “Hmm, you could be telling the truth. You seem honest enough. But if your father works for those crooked bastards then I’m going to fuck him harder than I fucked you.” It was a vow which Mike promised to keep. He went to his kit bag and pulled out a spare pair of shorts which he quickly put on. They were grey in color and immediately a precum stain formed in them, but Mike didn’t care. He was just minutes away from causing so many guys in the locker room of Joel’s Gym on Church St to make with their own precum. “I hardly see my dad, ‘cos he’s always working. I think they may be clients of his. He’s in advertising. That’s all I know, Mike. I swear.” Ken was still crying. Mike suddenly felt bad. He pulled a clean towel out of his bag and gave it to Ken to dry his tears with. “Sorry about that. I guess I got carried away. UltraZen tried to recruit me into their organization a couple of years back. They offered me a free health assessment and free membership to their ultra-modern super-gym. But all they really wanted was a sample of my tissue to experiment with. They think I’m some kind of mutant, ‘cos I can grow so big. A mutant, can you fucking believe it?” Ken now understood why the Hugeman had flown off the handle. But the experience still had him rattled. “For what it’s worth, I wasn’t gonna drop you, twinkster. And even if I had, I could easily have leaped down to ground-level to catch you before you hit the concrete.” Smiling the most beautiful smile Ken had ever seen on any man, actor, supermodel, athlete or bodybuilder, Mike did a side chest pose and hefted up his medicine ball-sized pectorals, beefing them up to super-striated status. His chin immediately became lost in the meat of his upper pecs, creating the illusion that his head was about to be devoured by his muscle-tits. He couldn’t wait to inflate these babies through further workouts. He really was obsessed with his bodybuilding and obsessed with himself. “I deserve a free session for what you did, Mike. It was cruel of you.” Fear and upset rapidly began to give way to anger. Ken had every right to be angry. Mike thought about this. He guessed the kid was right. He dug into his bag to return his five hundred bucks. “No – keep the money. I meant another session, on the house, of course. Or I’ll tell the cops what you did to me.” “Hmmm, Hugeman in the State Pen for attempted murder. Lots of jailhouse ass for me to pound. Communal showers and I heard they’ve got one of the best gymnasiums in the state. I could get really fucking HUGE in jail, not that any cell could hold me.” Mike scratched his gorgeous stubbly chin as his mind set off to explore such a fantasy. In jail he could be worshipped far more intensively than in normal life. But on the other hand, he’d miss his mama’s pasta. Nah, it was best to keep on the right side of the law. “Blackmail doesn’t suit you, twinkster. But you’ve got yourself a deal. One free session it is. But not right now, ‘cos I have to get to the gym to beef up further. You can come by my place tonight at 9pm. I live at Pinewood Heights on Reginald and Main, Apartment 12, on the top floor. I promise not to dangle you from my balcony. I usually do webcam hulk-outs at that time, but tonight, for you, I’ll make an exception.” That said, the Hugeman leaped into the air and out from the edge of the rooftop. In a single bound he was across to the adjacent building, coming down heavily with a mighty stomp powerful enough to loosen every tile on the ceiling of the rooms below. He chuckled to himself, delighting at how huge and hulking he was. Suddenly the unexpected happened. The force of his connection with the second rooftop was enough to jar the body of the peeping Tom who’d been observing his antics through binoculars. The guy was dressed in combat fatigues, but he seemed too fat to be a real soldier. He staggered drunk-fashion out from behind an extractor fan assembly and puked up his McDonald’s lunch all over his boots. “What the fuck? Were you spying on me you fat fucking pervert? I’ll break you in half for that. The Hugeman never gives it away for nothing.” Fuming, Mike snatched the binoculars from the peeping Tom and crushed them into tiny bits of broken glass, metal, and plastic. He felt like ripping out the extractor fan unit and using it to beat the living crap out of the fatty. He was strong enough to do it, too. He thought about the prison fantasy again. “Puh-please... don’t hurt me,” the slob in camouflage pleaded. On a hot day like this the smell of expelled stomach acids soon became unbearable. Mike wasn’t hanging around. He was going to charge this pervert for the privilege of watching him perform on the twinkster, and so he grabbed him by the scruff of his fatigues and searched through his pockets for a wallet. He found it without any trouble. It bore the motif of UltraZen. Mike’s blood began to boil. He flared red in the face and puffed himself up to a massively muscular rage. He soon forced a confession out of the peeping Tom, whose name turned out to be Lenny Simmons. Mike listened to everything he had to say: “They hired me to watch the boy. I slipped the business card into his wallet when he dropped it at McDonald’s before meeting you. It was meant to get your attention. After the kid left the hotel I was to take him out with a tranquilizer dart and drive him to an abandoned warehouse at the docks – unit 108. There the kid would have your jizz extracted from him. What they do with it after that is none of my beeswax” Mike needed to flex while he thought about this. He pushed out a crab pose that caused his muscles to striate massively, bunching together with almost electrical ferocity. Like the comic book Hulk, anger seemed to inflate Mike lately, something he was curious about. If he could make an actual ability of this, then he could will himself far huger whenever it pleased him to. He was getting turned on, too, and his second pair of shorts began to part at the seams as his cock, once again, stood to attention. The wet bulge inflating in his crotch was enormous. Simmons couldn’t take his eyes off it. He wasn’t gay but his contact at UltraZen had given him a dossier on Hugeman, and the gigantic bodybuilder had fucked straight guys before, just because it suited him to. The shorts would not withstand a full erection, not when he was this angry, boiling blood surging through every last inch of him. “Get the fuck off this rooftop, Simmons. And don’t contact UltraZen under any circumstances. Your driver’s license was in your wallet, so I know where you live. Think I’ll be holding on to that for insurance. I’m going to pay a visit to that warehouse. If you warn them I’m coming, I’ll pound that house of yours into rubble, with you in it. Got that?” When the Hugeman spoke, he had to be heeded. Simmons, his fat lips blubbering, hastily made an exit. Mike set off towards the Stillbrook docks, his shorts just about managing to keep his junk in place. It had been a long time since he’d been this angry about something. The word “UltraZen” was enough to drive him into an indignant frenzy. What further enraged him was that he might miss his workout for the day. And for that he was going to make UltraZen pay dearly. Episode 3 For a henchman, Artie Pimms asked way too many questions. UltraZen’s Arkadian Stoat tugged at his electrically air-conditioned black mackintosh and tried to remain calm and sane. In truth, he was failing at keeping Pimms from grating on his nerves. If something interesting didn’t happen in the next 60 seconds, he was going to have to cause a public nuisance, simply to keep from going around the bend. Pimms shifted nervously from one foot to the other, surveying his surroundings with an almost pathological level of suspicion. It was abandoned, here at the docks, the perfect place for UltraZen to spring its trap. “Do you think it was a good idea having Lenny place the card in the kid’s wallet, boss?” It was Pimms’ umpteenth question in several minutes. Stoat wanted to kill the obsequious troll in man’s clothing. How in all the cosmos did these “inbreeds” make it onto the company payroll anyway? The mind just boggled. “For the third time, already, I planned it this way, Pimms. The Hugeman has a short fuse and hates all things UltraZen. How else could I get him to come here? Simmons is about as stealthy as a rhino with whooping cough. He’s almost as bad as you for messing things up. Stillbrook’s arrogant muscle whore will be here, and soon. I guarantee it. Now do me a favor and check your weapon. You may need it. And do it quietly!” Stoat adjusted the settings on the electro-blaster he carried with him, making sure it was set for maximum output. He would only get one shot at this. The only way to stop a man as huge and powerful as Mike Hugeman was with an electro-static force-field that could jolt even the most superhuman nervous system into complete but totally reversible shutdown. Positioned out of sight, keeping to the gloom cast by the shadows of some empty packing crates within the spacious sprawl of the virtually empty Warehouse 108, Mike Hugeman would have to possess x-ray vision to notice his adversaries before they noticed him. Stoat silently prayed to St Norris (the Patron Saint of B-List Bastards) that this wasn’t the case. Within minutes there was a loud, thunderous sound of something heavy hitting the concrete outside. Nearby car alarms sounded as the impact set them off. Young ladies screamed in terror, but then seeing it was the Hugeman, began to get moist for him and wish he wasn’t gay, oh and er... yeah... a couple of dogs barked or something. The Hugeman was really pissed off as he tore through the docklands looking for Unit 108. This was causing him to miss his workout. He got madder and madder, and this seemed to make him get a little bigger, which wasn’t a bad thing, he reckoned. But his shorts were about to disintegrate from the immense pressure his inflating glutes and erecting dick caused by pushing outward in opposite directions. When he found Unit 108, he smashed through the large slide-doors, pulverizing metal and wood and whatever else the fucking things were made of, the force of which made him totally lose his shorts. He didn’t care. Looking down at his massive whale-dick excited and pleased him. But he snorted in a rising rage, thinking that it wouldn’t get to be glorified in the gym today, if the day’s events kept causing him to get sidetracked. “Come out from hiding, you UltraZen bastards,” he boomed, his gargantuan roar powered by an incredible set of lungs. He was getting stronger and stronger. He could feel his body bulging all over. He had to capitalize on this effect, but also clear his head to think clearly. When silence returned to the warehouse’s echoed interior, Hugeman flexed, sweet fuck did he flex, greater than he ever flexed before. He squatted down a little, bending his legs at the knees, so that most of his weight was carried by his shimmering quads. He crabbed down into a most-muscular pose, squeezing his balled fists so tight, he could compress coals into diamonds had he been holding them. This incredible pressure, aided by a snarl that added deep russet tones to his cheeks, sent a shockwave of flexing, bulging superpower throughout his exceptional system. Energy crackled in pulses along his body’s veined super-highway, energizing his circulatory system to hulk up into overdrive. Massive, thick cords pushed out of a 22-inch neck. His body exploded into hyper-muscular relief, with extra inches popping out everywhere, his weight increasing significantly. He couldn’t wait to get this business over with so that he could beat all his lifting records over at Joel’s Gym, with a full retinue of horny, awe-stricken, paying worshippers gathered around him, just the way he liked it. He would have it no other way. He posed and flexed, flexing huger still, and posed until he could think more clearly. He pounded his granite fists together, sending further pulses of shocking power throughout. Growling and snarling – gruffly lauding his bodybuilding superiority with an exceptional nod to superior masculinity – Mike screamed the place down as his glistening, colossal physique bulged more immensely than ever, muscles bulking up so fast, his skin stretched almost to the point of sheer translucence. His definition was mesmerizing. His hulking pecs widened and deepened, and when he bounced them, it took slightly more effort on his part, the mass of the pec-bellies at their greatest so far, so that their momentum seemed more gradual, but no less rhythmic. This pleased him very much, and his hard-on raged with greater impunity. “My God,” Arkadian Stoat gasped from behind the vantage point of crates, then cursing himself for uttering a sound. He wasn’t gay, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate just how much larger Mike Hugeman had become since last their paths crossed. He had failed, before, to secure the genetic samples he craved in order to experiment with Mike’s unique muscle-building properties. UltraZen thrived on defense contracts. Should they patent an elite super-soldier for sale to the highest bidder, they could become a major world power in their own right. Hugeman was the key to mastering this design. And Stoat, as head researcher for UltraZen Industries, was under a lot of pressure to reel in his prize catch. Today he vowed not to fail. Luckily the Hugeman hadn’t heard him make a sound, so caught up was Mike in his flexing and muscle-gaining. With an enormously delta-shaped back bouncing rays of glorious sunlight back through the skylight through which they came, Mike was oblivious to the stealthy, snake-like advances of Stoat, as he carefully eased his way closer to his quarry, the electro-blaster primed and ready to be fired. Stoat would only have one shot at this. He signaled with a nod for Pimms to ready the overhead net conductor. It would fire from a cylinder high above the Hugeman, something that had failed to catch his eye, fortunately for Stoat. So far things were going by the numbers. But still, caution was the only card to play. Mike was overwhelmed by his flexing, and the obsession he had with growing, coupled with the rising strength he felt surging in him. His balls swelled with jizz, and he would have to expend it soon before frustration got the better of him. He began to stroke his huge whale-dick, completely awed that it seemed, now, to be at least an inch and a half longer than it had been earlier, back in the hotel room with Ken Preston. Saint Norris’s Ghost, Stoat mentally gasped, not expecting to get a full sex show from the biggest muscle behemoth the world has ever seen. He was an out and out heterosexual, but if that was the case, why did Stoat feel the front of his trousers getting tight? No, this cannot be. This fucker cannot be turning me gay, he thought, but then lost the run of himself and said the last bit aloud: “I won’t allow it!!!” Hearing this caused the Hugeman to turn around like a whirlwind, just as his cannon dick was about to release its salty torrent. Several life-changing things happened in the space of one and a half seconds. The force of Mike’s massive discharge spewed forth with the pressure of a fire extinguisher, blasting into Stoat across a distance of about twenty feet. Gripped momentarily by his most powerful self-induced orgasm ever, Hugeman was temporarily paralyzed, but that did not matter, for the blast of his jizz knocked Stoat off his feet, sending him sprawling, just as Pimms pressed a button on his remote control, blowing the cylinder above both Hugeman and UltraZen’s head researcher. Stoat fired the ultra-blaster, but something went terribly wrong. Coils of Tesla-like energy arced into the torrent of cum that existed briefly between Hugeman and Stoat, creating a brief circuit through which the gun overloaded. The connection was only a fraction of a second in duration, but the conductor net fell over them both, holding in the charge for a little longer. Dazed and confused, Hugeman rolled around in the net and soon became trapped. Like an idiot, Pimms sprang to help his boss, reaching out to grab his arm where it stuck out from a gap in the net. Stoat writhed in agony as energy danced impishly across his suffering but scrawny frame. As soon as Pimms touched his hand, he absorbed most of the energy, which now siphoned off into him. He was knocked back into the packing crates, smashing through them. He screamed for all of his worth as anomalous energies scorched him... reshaped and rewrote him. Likewise, Stoat was also rewritten to a certain extent. This was a day that would live in infamy, no doubt about it. When the lightning show eventually ended, Mike found the strength to tear himself free of the confining net. He felt weak and he staggered to his feet, his dick now limp and pendulous as it swung from his movements. “Am I... smaller? Oh, please God, please no.” He cleared his head and rubbed his eyes to get them into sharp focus. He looked down at himself... well, his gaze got as far as his pecs and would go no further, for his muscle rack prevented it, it was so bloated and huge. He flexed his forearms and bis, squeezing his balled fists to crank up the flexing to its fullest. He breathed a sigh of relief, for he hadn’t shrunk at all, despite the sapping of his strength. In fact, he thought he might be even bigger. Thinking this quickly energized him and lengthened his dick to a semi-flaccid state. Still a bit groggy from whatever it was his assailant had shot him with, Mike turned to look down at the living mess caught in the net. At first he didn’t recognize the charred, wizened man. Then, as he studied the sooty face a little further: “Arkadian fucking Stoat. I should have known you’d be behind this,” the Hugeman growled. Stoat just moaned something incomprehensible but appealed to the Hugeman to be freed from the net. He poked an even bonier arm through the netting, hoping the giant above him would take pity on an injured scientist. Hugeman scowled and thought about pissing on the little runt. “Puh-please have pity on me, Hugeman. You can see I’m beaten, finished. I know when I’m licked. At least help me to my feet so that I can check on poor Artie. I think he took the worst of it.” Mike thought it over and bounced his pecs so as to clear some space in his head. Maybe UltraZen would leave him alone, now that Stoat had seen the new, bigger, and more powerful Hugeman. They simply couldn’t beat him. Stoat looked old, broken down, emaciated. He was no threat to the Hugeman, Mike decided. And so, he extended a huge hand downwards, offering it reluctantly to Stoat. When Stoat touched Mike’s hand, he felt a rush like no other. Although his body didn’t change shape or size, he leeched off a great-deal of Mike’s incredible power. Mike, towering above the scientist, felt his legs turn to jelly, weakening to the point of being unable to stand under his own power. In contrast, Stoat snapped himself to a standing position in a trice, almost squeezing the life out of the Hugeman. Instincts that were new to the older man coursed through him, now, and with the merest tug of his arm, wrenched the Hugeman into the air, with force enough to expel him upwards, higher, and higher. He crashed out through the roof of the warehouse, soaring ever higher into the summer sky. Stoat watched it happen, marveling at what he had just done. But how could this be? He decided there was time for analysis later. For now, he just enjoyed the worried squeal from Hugeman, gradually fading as distance claimed him. “Sto...aaaaaa...aaaaat!!!!!!!!!!” “No, dear boy, from now on I won’t be going by that name. Oh no...” He looked at his burnt hands and marveled, wonderingly, at the crackling, residual static charge that arced between his clawed fingers, energy that seemed to leech the power out of the most powerful man on the planet. Stoat took a new name and shouted it aloud: “From now on... I will be called... Man Handler!!!!!” To be continued . . .

Transition of Power I stared at my reflection in the mirror, scanning over the tiny bumps, cracks, spots in my skin. No one tells you, when you're young, that perfect skin doesn't last forever. And no one tells you that you start to look like your dad. I knew, someday, I wouldn't recognize this person. And that's what scared me more than anything. I found myself brushing my teeth, slowly moving through the hazy morning like a dream. Pushing down the fear that just seemed to grow stronger each day. The age. The crime. It seemed that every day, this world inched a bit closer to hell. Just last night, a gang had taken a US representative hostage, fending off all the military's attempts to rescue him. They made demands; I forget what for. Money, probably. No one knew where he was now. Elections in his district were being planned. Everyone was scared. It's those god damn superheroes. It's all their fault. I remembered, one was affiliated with this gang. Ever since that comet started dropping dust into the atmosphere and people started changing there hasn't been a single day of sanity. My phone buzzed. Michael. The senator. He wasn't a handsome man, in most senses. Michael was in his 60's. Stocky build, the kind of man that may have played football in high school and maybe a couple club sports in college but hadn't run a mile since he still had a full hairline. It wasn't his physical prowess that I loved. It was his power. Any time I flip him over, caress his ass cheeks, start getting ready to breed him, I sap his power. One of a hundred people in the country who decides how we get to live life. And here I am, holding him down, on top of him, calling him my bitch and my little slut. I loved it. It felt like nothing else in the world. There's a car outside. get in It wasn't like him to be this curt, but maybe he's feeling more dom today. I could work with that. I finished getting ready and walked outside. A black car with tinted windows had pulled up. I grinned. What did he have planned for me. - In the car, Michael looked straight at me. "I need you to trust me. Turn your phone off." "What's going on?" "Superman is gone." "What do you mean?" "He's gone. He's dead. We've lost a major national asset. Without someone like him, we have no control over these crazy super-powered folks. We need someone who's unstoppable, like he is. Was." I blinked. "He died?" "I can't explain much now. But yes. It was an outlandish plot by a terror cell in Virginia and it worked. This happened approximately 8 minutes ago. Not many people know about this." "Oh wow." Jesus. I was shocked. I'd read so much about Superman. Even seen him once or twice. He was the one who did it all. Took down missiles, stopped terrorists around the world. He was so utterly dominant over anyone else who had superpowers. He had it all. "That's why you're here." "What do you mean?" "We need control. We simply cannot lose an asset like that." I remained silent. "You're taking his place." I laughed. "No I'm not. What the hell do you mean?" "We're almost there," he said, looking agitated as his phone buzzed over and over again. "Long story short. We've been working on... an experiment. The government has recovered some of the dust that was dropped from the comet. The comet that started all this. And we have a basic idea of how it works. We think we know how to do it. We want to give it to you." The grin slid off my face. "Wha.. What do you mean?" "We have no idea what will happen. But we need Superman back. But think of the responsibility. Can you handle it? Can you become Superman?" he demanded. "Not many people can." "I can do it, I guess?" I said, confused. This seemed like a joke. "How?" "Don't worry about it. Do you consent?" I breathed deeply. "Sure." - I was escorted into a building, down dark staircases, through door after door and cement hallways. Behind me, Michael was on the phone. "He's an associate. He's ex-military. He went to Princeton. I don't know what else you expect me to find, on such short notice. He will be more that what we need. Just give me the god damn authorization." We approached a small, dimly lit room. In the middle, a makeshift glass box. Almost like a coffin. "Michael." I asked. "Are you sure about this?" I felt like I was in a dream. This was so utterly beyond what I could comprehend. I was clouded by doubt but there was a tiny glimmer of radiant hope. Was I about to get superpowers? "Get in," he commanded. I gave him a side-eye, and walked to the glass box. It felt cheaply made. Was it plexiglass? I opened the top up and climbed inside, laying down. "Start it," he commanded the only other person in the room. "I have authorization from the President." He showed the person his phone. I started to breath quickly. I wasn't a fan of confined spaces. And suddenly, golden glitter clouded around me, coming from somewhere beneath the box. It was so bright and warm. Like a summer breeze. I closed my eyes and let myself breathe it in. And then it started to happen. My transformation It was sudden. It's like a wave of relief washing over you, but it's more. Warmth. A slight strain. My body grew. I opened my eyes, saw my arms grow larger, legs stretch out. I felt growth everywhere on my body. My six pack solidified. My ass grew larger, more powerful. It was flowing all over my body. And damn, it felt good. After what only felt like a few seconds, I emerged. Michael handed me a costume. "Strip," he said. I hadn't noticed until I tried pulling my underwear off, but my cock had grown significantly longer as well. It was too good to be true, and a wide smile crossed my face. I stood naked in front of the man. He looked me up and down, sighing, before handing me a costume. "His backup. It should take a few more seconds before you feel powers coming in." I struggled to squeeze into the costume, muscles bulging against the tight spandex. It was comfortable, easy to move in. "You will report directly to the president," Michael said. I began to float. It was otherworldly. Euphoria rushed through me as I realized my power. "You will listen to everything I have to say." I floated in the air, laughing as I spun, gazing through the walls of this compound. I grabbed the glass box, smashed it in half. Smashed the controls. Michael started yelling, screaming. The tech ran out. "No one else," I said. "No one else can become as powerful as me." I grabbed Michael, and flew him up into the air. I rocketed through the compound, smashing through floor after floor. I was high above Washington, Michael in my grip. He was screaming. "Destroy it all. Or I will destroy you. No more superheroes. I am the first and the last one. Okay?" He nodded, shaking in fear from the height. I quickly flew back to the ground and set him down before taking off, landing on a nearby roof. This city was mine. This country. this world. All this power, and the old Superman had listened to the government. I wouldn't make the same mistake. My muscles flexed under my tight costume as I looked over my domain. I am the government now. Things would never be the same.