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  1. Hank, How are ya, stud? Man do I wish you was here. Sun, palm trees, beaches, all the rum you can drink. Shore leave in fucking paradise, and all that’s on my mind is our last brawl. Don’t help that none of the S.O.B.’s on this tinfoil barge can fight worth a damn. They talk big, get in your face, but then can’t take a punch. No kidding I dropped this one waif-like creature with a bare flick of a jab. I ain’t playing no more ‘til these bums come up with a salty bear like you who can handle these big fists. Hugs and Kisses (har-de-har-har), Liam Liam, Got such a fight-boner when I read your card, I went out and found a scrap on a New York rooftop with some swabbies from the Sea Queen. At five-on-one it wasn’t quite fair (for them, ha!). And with a knuckle-dragging stud like you on my mind, I went and popped my load too early. First guy crumpled under my left hook. Second guy lost all his front teeth to my haymaker. I kid you not the third and fourth wimps then shat their dress whites when I screamed in their faces. Hell you know how I can get when I get riled up. Fifth guy was made of somewhat sterner stuff, even caught me with an uppercut right on the button before I flattened him. But you know me, chin like a moose. I’ll post this (don’t lick the blood splatter, you animal), then go placate the Sea Queen’s first mate, smooth things over about the injuries, and the shitstains. Look at you, getting me in trouble, even from halfway ‘round the world. Bear hugs from your bearfriend (har-de-har-har), Hank Hank, Knew I could count on ya to get me back in the game. Give my best to the Sea Queen’s first mate; I once gut-slugged him so hard he re-savoured a week's worth of navy chow. You always know best, my brother in brawn. Who am I to avoid fightin’, on account of the delicate constitutions of weaker men? I went right back to that beach and pasted seven able seamen thinking of your handsome mug, and what I’d do to it should I see ya once more. They is not so able now (har-de-har-har), what with their busted ribs and all. Took some hard knocks, but ya know my noggin, harder than a coconut. I should know, I cracked one open with these paws and am now enjoying a refreshing drink in victory. Ya must remember my grip (wink wink)? Hope you counted, with that big brain of yours (“placate?”) that seven is more than five. Try to keep up. Smooches (on mine own biceps), Liam Liam, Guess there’s only one way we’re settlin’ this. I’m coming to get your ass. That’s the kind of grip you meant, right (har-de-har-har)? Ran into the minor problem of finding a ship headed in your general direction, and then the problem that said ship was The Defiant, remember them? They sure remember you and me, back when we were skinny recruits. We packed a wallop even then, but look at us now, with muscles coming out of our ears. They needed some convincing, did them deck apes, all ten of ‘em (math, boy), but you surely know how convincing these arms can be. Plus since they were now shorthanded, what choice did the skipper have? I know how to get my way, you remember? And if you don’t, sit tight, I’ll remind you soon enough. Drippingly yours, Hank
  2. 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.
  3. BrutalPowerDemon

    Native God Kai: Meeting

    My name is Peter, but everyone calls me Pete. I’m a muscular 6 feet, 2 inches tall, 230 pound bisexual young man of 24 years of age. In Buffalo, New York, where I was born and raised, I’ve always pretty much been the biggest guy around. Chicks drool to have me bed them and a lot of dudes do, as well. Even though bisexual and appreciating anything sexual, really, when asked, I often explain that, like exhibited in most species, I have found the male to be, how shall I put it? Well, I find the male to be the most colorful and attractive, I suppose. I recently traveled up to Ontario, Canada to a city called Thunder Bay. I needed a break from the farm and had heard it was a great little city and a beautiful area. After settling into a hotel and grabbing a bite and a couple of drinks at the Outpost Campus Pub, I headed down to the waterfront just to walk around and found myself walking down by Marina Park when an unbelievably handsome native guy approached walking towards me. He appeared to be a few years older than me and a couple inches taller, which I wasn’t used to seeing. What caused me to do a double-take, however, was his obvious muscular bulk! This guy easily outweighed me by at least 20 or 30 pounds and his massive muscles stretched both his shirt and his jeans to the limit of their ability to contain such brawn and sinew. As we passed each other, we made eye contact and I grinned as he lifted his head in acknowledgment as we walked. Dark skin, simmering, dark eyes, full lips, black hair and an obviously powerful physique radiated this guy's stunning good looks and superior masculinity. I stopped and turned, unable to take my eyes off of this massive and obviously powerful Native American Adonis. His thick neck, massive arms, protruding chest, and powerful shoulders oozed of masculine supremacy. I watched in awe as his thick, rounded glutes rose and fell with each step he took, the width of his shoulders and thick, wing-like lats bulging from his manly frame. He slowed his pace a bit, stopped, and slowly turned towards me. He smirked as I stopped and began to panic at being caught staring. I quickly approached the man and blurted out, “Oh, hey, man! Excuse me, I - uh - I - could you direct me to the boat slips? I’m just visiting from the States and don’t quite know where I’m going.” The massive man looked me over and asked, “Where’s your map?” as he lifted an arm and pointed in the direction I should be heading. “There’s one that way. You know, where you see the boats docked.” he stated in a mocking tone. As he moved, I could see the muscles of his massively thick arms, chest, and neck swell and harden. GOD! The power that must be contained in such size and muscle mass. I regained composure and looked into his eyes. FUCK! Caught again as I’d been devouring hid muscles flexing with each of his movements. “Oh, yeah - uh - thanks, man.” I stuttered as he eyed me with amusement. “You are a pretty big guy. My name’s Kai, by the way. You must work out quite a bit.” he stated as he looked me over and extended his hand. My cock twitched as he mentioned his name. The name “Kai” has always dripped of masculinity and power in my mind and the name definitely fit him! I took his hand, returning his friendly gesture, and immediately felt my hand engulfed by the immensity of his huge paw. I winced as he squeezed, lightly for him, I assume, and shook my hand. “DAMN, you’re strong as FUCK!” I gushed as I pulled my hand back, nursing the pain caused by his grip, “Yeah, I work out quite a bit - and work on a farm, as well, so that helps keep me in shape, I guess. Oh, I’m Peter - you can call me Pete. Good to meet you, Kai.” “Just visiting, eh? Well, I’m heading over to meet my girl for a drink, if you’d like to join us.” he rumbled in response His girl? I couldn’t help but picture this hulking Native Indian with his woman! She, lying on her back, full, perky breasts engulfed by the massive hands of this godly young man as he hunches over her. His freakishly thick, solid muscles flexing as she squeals and moans in lustful pleasure, her hands roaming the expansive ranges of his hard, powerful, and rippling muscle-bod. Her juices squirting from between her legs in anticipation of receiving such a perfect trunk of hyper-masculine, muscle-cock! Kai expertly lines up his pre-cum pouring mushroom head with her her hot, wet, and gyrating pussy before its girth splits her wide open, her vagina eagerly slurping and sucking in its throbbing, steel-hard mass as she begs, “Oh, YES, you titanic beast! Fuck me, fuck - me, FUUUCK MEEE! Oh, GOD! MORE! HARDER! FUCK ME, KAI!” Kai then begins pile driving the pleading, lust-craved woman before ramming his colossal bucking python balls deep into her as his huge nuts pull close into his body and his mammoth cock erupts with volley after volley of his potent, boiling seed, filling her as his hot, thick jizz blows back out around his shaft and coating his titanic testicles. “Sounds good, Kai.” I said, tearing my brain away from my thoughts of this dark, powerful creature’s sexual assault on the object of his desire. He started walking and I began walking with him. “By the way, you must work out quite a bit, too. You’re swole as fuck, dude!” He grinned. “Just started, Pete. I’m naturally big, I guess, but want to be the absolute biggest, a massively muscular BEAST!” He reached down and adjusted his ample package absentmindedly and I marveled at how his huge palm seemed smaller in comparison to his flaccid junk bulging his jeans almost obscenely. “God DAMN, Kai! Standing next to you, you make me feel fucking small compared to your natural muscularity and huge size.” I truthfully praised him. “I hope to see you after you’ve worked out for a couple of years. God DAMN, man - you’ll be a fucking muscle GOD, bro!” I was so engrossed talking to this massive, uber-handsome Native dude that I hadn’t noticed that we had walked to a secluded area. Kai stopped and turned to me. “I know you’re into size. I saw it in your eyes when we passed each other - and you were almost drooling over my muscles when I pointed you to the marina - and when you shook my hand. You gasped out loud, you know. I’ve seen it before - the same look as a lot of women give me. A lot of guys, too, actually.” he smirked. “You gay, little white dude?” he asked tauntingly. Little white dude? I wasn’t used to “little” being any part of a description of me, but it didn’t feel wrong in the presence of this muscle god as his immensity and his sensually deep voice accosted any sense I had of self-masculinity. I took a step away from him, unsure if he was pissed. I can handle myself okay, but, as I mentioned, I did feel pretty inferior compared to him. I looked at him and answered, “I’m bi, actually,” answering the last question before addressing his other observation, “and yes, you are right - I’m TOTALLY into size, muscle, and power. That’s why I started working out so hard when I was just a kid.” This fucking stunning man grinned, lifted his hands and slipped his long fingers beneath the collar of his skin-tight shirt and simply ripped it from his torso effortlessly. All of the glorious muscles dancing beneath his brown skin were flexing in waves, individual muscle fibers rose and fell like dominoes falling beneath his dark, flawless skin before my incredulous eyes. My mouth dropped open as I beheld transcendent masculinity in human form standing before me, bulging and bare. His traps rose majestically behind his thick neck, tapering down and out to massive, boulder-like delts. His magnificent pecs billowed out and over thickly corrugated abdominal muscles flexing and relaxing alternately, his lat wings tapering down to his thin waist from behind - and my GOD! His ARMS! His masses of biceps muscles erupted into mounds of split-headed brawn with pounds of triceps bulging out behind, fighting for space with his upper lats! “Holy f-f-f-uuuuck...” hissed from my lips unconsciously as the behemoth tossed the remains of his shirt aside. I had worked all of my life to build a massively muscled body, but this guy surpassed me in every way, making my own thickly muscled body appear pathetically small and inferior - and he was just BEGINNING his muscle-building journey?!?! He scowled and flexed out a most muscular pose, his already massive musculature erupting with even more size, hardness, and power. Rope-like veins erupted all over his magnificent torso, beginning in his hands and arms and flowing up and out upon the expansive exposed surface of his rock-solid shoulders, neck, chest, and abs. This super man’s entire upper body simply lit up and bulged with veins, muscle and power like a fucking Christmas tree. “Holy fucking CHRIST!” I blurted as my knees went weak and I began to breathe in short ragged gasps. I felt my cock rocketing to attention to salute such masculine superiority. “Yeah, I thought so.” his deep voice rumbled over me as the scent of his testosterone laden sweat wafted into my nostrils. My eyes roamed over his perfectly formed, muscle-bloated torso. I was speechless. I was finding it hard to breathe. Kai raised one arm and flexed, the venous split head of his mountainous biceps rising towards his clenched fist as granite hard triceps exploded down and writhed beneath the skin as if trying to burst free. “Go ahead, little man, you know you want to feel what REAL size and power feels like!” he taunted as he licked his full lips with a tongue that made me wince, moistening his lips as if he were hungry for something. I mindlessly lifted my hand as if obeying a command and placed it on biceps larger than my fucking head. My hand barely capped the peak of the scalding, diamond-hard cap of the exhibition of masculinity bursting up from Kai’s mighty arm. I felt light-headed and weak. This colossal Kai took my wrist in his other massive hand and moved my trembling hand from his biceps to his heaving pectoral, sliding it over his sweaty flesh as he did. “BOOM!” he thundered as he flexed his mighty chest harder as it instantly ballooned further out over his thickly corrugated abdominals. He slid my open palm over the hard, hot waving muscles of his expansive chest to the deep cleavage created by such inhuman mountains of solid, diamond hard power. He relaxed before shoving my hand into the deep pec valley and flexed again, crushing my entire hand in between such potent pectoral perfection. I looked up into his stunningly handsome face as I felt, and saw, his muscles flex even larger, harder, more magnificent! Wait! I looked UP over his billowing pectorals at his face?!?! How could that be? I was just a couple inches shorter than him! I felt even weaker as his body seemed to balloon with even more size and power. Confused and consumed with a lust I’d never before felt, I pleaded weakly, “Wh-what’s happening to me, Kai?” I looked up to see his head nestled back in between his two sloping ranges of rippling trapezius muscle, his thick neck muscles bulging and snaked with thick, pulsing, blood filled veins as his pronounced Adam’s apple bobbed up and down hungrily. “Oh, FUCK, YESSSS!” thundered from this burgeoning colossus of a man as my vision began to blur and I slipped in and out of semi-consciousness. This Native GOD was growing (or was I shrinking?). —------- As I lay semi-conscious at your feet, this is what I saw in my dream-like state: I see you, Kai, exploding into an absolute Native GOD of brutal, lust-filled muscular power. People are drawn to admire you. Your mere aura of masculine perfection draws from them a desire to please you. As you grow, your self-recognition of what you truly are affects all inferior beings and they (we) realize that the world and its inhabitants are nothing but playthings to you . . . existing for your amusement and pleasure. You are to be worshiped, adored, served, and pleased in any way you desire. I see you, Kai, in your future form, what you were always meant to become, a truly brutal and barbaric muscle god! A superior being born of a superior race! You are everything I have always dreamed of becoming, and so much more. You can control your size, as well as the size of anyone and anything else. Your power is limitless! You brush me aside, your new-found size almost glowing. You look me in the eyes and growl, “BEHOLD, PUNY PETER, WHAT YOU HAVE ALWAYS LONGED TO SEE.” You raise your arms and flex hard, your godly muscles growing as you expand. 10 feet (your jeans, underwear, shoes, and socks, explode in tatters from your muscled limbs as your grow), 15 feet, 25 feet (I scramble to avoid being smeared to a pulp by your expanding feet as you move to compensate for your growth), 50 feet, 75 feet, and, finally, your magnificent, titanic and swole muscle body ceases to grow at over 100 feet of unstoppable power. Your colossal form pulses with masculine superiority in every form - male sexuality, beastly brutality, unstoppable power Your titanic, muscular body is the body of a god. Your flaccid, prodigious penis is larger than any man that ever lived and bulges out over balls the size of cars. I see you smile, reach down and pick up a car from the street. You peel the roof off like it is nothing but tin foil. I can hear the terrified screams of the occupants as your head nestles back into your voluminous traps, your neck bulging with muscle, pronounced Adam’s apple slowly rising and falling. You lift the car over your gaping mouth and slowly tilt the little vehicle. You seem to enjoy the screams of terror of the first victims of your vicious realization of what you are as they tumble from the car, clawing at the air, and into your hungry, waiting mouth. You clench your jaws shut with a snap. You look down at me as I slowly back away from you, trying to be far enough away to see every inch of your dark, swole, all-powerful and godly body. I see you moving the struggling little meat-sacks around in your mouth before you grin and brutally clench your jaws together. Blood sprays out and rains upon me as the squishy crunch for your unfortunate snacks’ demise reaches my ears. You chew and swallow your first mouthful of human protein. I tremble, not so much in fear, but overwhelming awe and excitement of FINALLY seeing a man being true masculinity unleashed. I see the bloody remnants of what, just seconds before, were but puny little humans whose lives you literally held in your hands. Being in your presence fills me with a desire to please you, to witness your size and power used as it should be - to bring you pleasure, no matter the consequences to anything, nor anyone, around you. The blood flowing from the corners of your mouth is nothing but remnants of a snack you desired - and deserved. You notice a man and woman running. You lift your foot and move it so that it overshadows them. The man looks up and stumbles as the woman continues, but turns back. You slowly lower your expansive sole over the little man as he begins to beg. “No, NO, NOOOOO!” as you continue to lower your foot, relishing first the light pressure of his arms uselessly pushing back against your foot’s descent, then the snapping of bones and crushing of his puny little body to a bloody, unrecognizable goop squirting from beneath your foot. Your quads and calf muscles bulge and ripple as you grind your foot into the pavement, easily cracking it. I hear, “OH, YESSS!” rumble from above as I look up at your smirking face. I notice your colossal cock beginning to pulse to life, thickening and lengthening as a road-map of thick veins engorge around the shaft, flooding your sex trunk with shaft-stiffening blood. The woman, staring at your foot that has smashed her man like nothing but an annoying little insect, is screaming insanely. You reach down and pluck her from the sidewalk, flailing and kicking about uselessly. You carefully remove the clothing from her body, damaging her as little as possible in the process. “MMMMM, BEAUTIFUL!” you boom as you place her in your free palm and lick your lips viewing her sexy little body. I see your massive penis continue to thicken, and rise majestically before you, easily overcoming the fight of gravity attempting to pull such hefty, masculine bulk downward. “NORMALLY, I WOULD FUCK YOU,” you chuckle, “BUT I GUESS YOU’LL HAVE TO FUCK ME - OR AT LEAST FEED MY SEXUAL NEEDS, TINY BITCH. HA, HA, HA!” you thunder sadistically as you lower your palm to your throbbing cock head and push the screaming woman’s head into your now pre-cum flowing piss slit. Immediately, the opening begins to close upon the fledgling little woman while pulling her wriggling body in. Your cock quickly devours her and your massive fingers wrap around your thick shaft and slowly stroke, her body crushed to liquid in your deadly cock as you sadistically rumble, “MMMM, YEAH, BABY!” You grab two others not quick enough to escape your reach and simply deposit them upon your cock before enveloping their brittle little bodies with your stroking fist. They are quickly reduced to nothing but smears upon your shaft flesh, a gritty lube for your pleasure (crimson streaks of remains mixed with your boiling, now freely flowing pre-cum adorn - all that is left of the two humants you used). “AWWW, FUCK YEAH!” you bellow as you begin walking away from the waterfront. I hear screams quickly cut short with a loud, squishy CRUNCH with your first step and look as your massive, deadly foot rises, bloody corpses stuck to your sole like nothing but bugs crushed under your immense muscular weight. I see you reach down with your free fist and it encircles a bus. You lift it to your waist. I envy those doomed people in the bus. They get the stunning, close up view of you, our all-powerful muscle-god and the largest muscle-cock ever to exist! What do you have planned for the bus and its occupants, I wonder, as I begin drooling lustfully from every orifice, longing to feel your muscular power, to serve such masculine perfection, no matter the cost to me, one so pathetically small, weak, and inferior. —------- My eyes fluttered open to see the massive Kai leaning over me, your muscles defying gravity as they bulge hard with every movement you make. “My God.” escapes my lips as my cock involuntarily explodes in submissive orgasm at the thought of how easily this godly man could snap me in two, my semi-conscious vision of his beginning rampage still clearly in my mind’s eye. You could easily crush me and smear my muscled body to a paste upon your flesh like nothing but unneeded war paint (your sheer size, power, and superior masculinity would elicit enough fear in any sane man). I babble like a fucking brook, “I unconsciously worshiped you the moment I saw you. I now know I was born to worship such unbridled power, such masculine perfection to serve you.” You smirk and stand. “Good boy.” your powerful voice thunders. You extend your massive hand towards me. “Come on, little man, let me help you up. Let’s go get those drinks. My treat - only fair since you fed me some size. You have NO idea what I am becoming!” Your torso and arms explode with thickly corded, rock-solid muscle as your powerful, oaken arm reaches towards me, your pectorals ballooning and crushing together like two small planets colliding. My cock worshipfully pulses back to life as my brain returns to the thought of you doing anything you please with whoever you please. I feel so exposed, my bulging jeans’ crotch and thigh fabric dark with my recent jizz explosion and, now gawking at manly perfection, freshly flowing pre-cum. “I-I-I th-think I d-d-do know wh-what you are, Kai!” I responded in sheepish awe as I raise my hand to yours, “Whatever you say, Sir.” Your expansive fist swallows mine and you effortlessly lift me to my feet. The stunningly handsome, colossally muscled Native Indian smirks down at me as I look up into dark eyes. FUCK! I am level with your massive pecs! Your eyes lower to my tented, wet crotch which I quickly cover with my free hand. Your eyes raise back to mine as you growl, “Bi my ass, little man. I knew you were a fucking fag when you couldn’t take your eyes off of this.” You raise an arm, flex, turn your head and lick the majestic, hard biceps. You continue, “Looks like I’m a lot bigger than you, doesn’t it, little man?” You swipe my hand away from covering my tented crotch, visibly throbbing. “Or should I say ‘little girl’? Is big, bad, bi Petey turned on by the most powerful muscle-man he’s ever seen?” I pull away and step back, stunned not only by your increased bulk and stature, but by your cocky, dominant attitude. You grab my hand, place it on your mountainous pectoral again and flex. “You my little BITCH, puny white boy?” you growl in disgust. You release my hand, but I unconsciously move it across the massive, inundating and rippling mass of muscle that is the giant Native’s chest, gasping as it lands on your huge man-tit. You grin, raise both arms and flex over me. “Muscle-bitch Petey wants to worship what I am, doesn’t he?” You lower your oaken arms, one hand adjusting the mass of man-meat moving beneath your jeans. My mouth goes dry. I feel butterflies in my gut. My cock throbs painfully. I want to argue, but I can’t take my eyes off of such an absolute mountain of a man. The memories of my semi-conscious visions of this power-house brutally manhandling whoever he chose floods my brain as my head simply nods in response without me even thinking. I long, no LUST, to worship this Native Indian god of muscular size and power, to provide you with ANYTHING you want - and you know it. I long to shower praise upon you for your massive and bulging brawn and sinew, your incredibly powerful and swole masculine perfection, to encourage you to increase, to grow, to overshadow everything, to be the GOD you are created to be! I feel drool dripping from the side of my mouth. “I thought so, you fucking little pussy.” you grunt while turning and walking away. I gasp, again, at the inhuman width of your muscular back and shoulders, your squarely rounded glutes stretching the back of your jeans, rising and falling majestically as you walk away. A guy in a car parked by the sidewalk opens his window and yells at you, “Put a shirt on, you fucking freak!” You slow, stop, and look at the car before slowly and deliberately walking over to it, flexing menacingly. The guy starts the car in order to avoid a confrontation with such a massive and obviously powerful man. You don’t say a word to the guy. You just walk up to the car’s driver side, kneel down and put both hands underneath the car. What happens next brings me to my knees in total disbelief and worshipful awe. Your neck, back, and arms explode with thick, venous muscle and power as your jeans balloon to almost bursting with ass and leg muscle. You slowly lift the car from the road! You actually toss it up to move your massive hands more central under the vehicle for better balance before lifting the car over your head. Your entire upper body is an anatomy chart of the male muscular form. The man in the car begins screaming frantically, “No! No! NOOO! Put me DOWN, You FREAK!” Fear was dripping with his words. You, the almighty Kai, look me in the eye with your menacing, black eyes as you curl your fingers INTO the metal of the car you’re effortlessly holding over your head. You begin to pull the two ends of the car together from underneath. Your colossally muscled body explodes with even more size and super-human strength as the sounds of tortured metal squeal and screech, screaming through the air. The car’s flimsy (to YOU) frame succumbsd to the will of almighty Kai’s vastly superior strength and power. The man continues screaming like a wailing woman until the car simply folds in on itself. The muffled CRUNCH and slurpy SPLAT of the man’s body merges with the sounds of the car’s crunching collapse. Blood and gore spurts out the window and exploding windshield of the now demolished car, dripping down onto your gloriously pumped torso. This colossal Kai is a brutal fucking muscle BEAST! You toss the car aside effortlessly and spread the fresh blood across your hard, rippling chest in triumph. Your head pivots on your powerful neck to glance back at me. “That fucking little INSECT! FUCK, that felt good - it felt RIGHT, little man. Enjoy seeing TRUE power used by a REAL man? Look at you, insignificant, puny Pete, you pathetically weak little INSECT.” you deride me mercilessly. I nut on the spot, my jeans now drenched in my pre-cum mixed with my fresh pulsing, spurting cum. “You coming, you puny little size queen?” you derided me rightfully. “I knew you were drawn to me like a fucking moth to a flame. I could almost smell it flowing from your pores when you first laid eyes on me.” You were right. I stood. I followed. My thickly muscled, 6 feet, 2 inch, 230 pound body is now small and weak compared to colossal Kai’s vastly superior muscular bulk. I suppose it always was. I always thought I was unusually big and strong, but I really had nothing to compare myself to - until YOU . . . until Kai . . . the Native GOD . . massive size, limitless power, and insatiable virility incarnate! Your mere presence emasculated me completely as soon as I saw power personified walking towards me for the first time on that sidewalk. Your supreme existence demands worship and adoration as you increase into MORE! I exist to help you evolve into your desired being.
  4. mmvmgo2011

    Vaccinated - A Continuation

    Hi all. Been offline for WAY too long now. I hopefully have a bit of spare time again, so I’ve revisited some of the characters and continuing Vaccinated. (And, yes, I have other stories on the go - haven't forgotten.) If you haven’t read it, you’ll almost certainly get more out of this one if you read that one first. A refresher might be helpful too, as there will probably be lots of callbacks and interwoven story lines. Obviously heavy spoilers here if you haven’t yet read the first one. Consider this a continuation following on immediately from the events in the first story, before the Epilogue. Events here may or may not progress matters to the same point in that Epilogue - so a sort of alternate history. Hope you enjoy. As before, I only have a vague outline of a story - I’m making the rest of it up as I go along, so fair warning, the story could include almost anything. If you’re easily offended or triggered, then maybe avoid this one. I welcome any feedback and will work in any suggestions you might have as it goes along. Delivery will likely be a fair bit slower than in the past, but I’ll try my best to keep chapters coming in on the regular. ~~ONE~~ Jake’s timing was exquisite; perfection. He could feel the crescendo, the approaching tsunami about to break, and he wasn’t about to miss the opportunity to experience the pleasure his partner’s ejaculation was about to unleash on his dick. Undulating, peristaltic waves of muscular contractions milking his shaft, coaxing the breeding load from deep within his heaving, roiling balls. Jake’s cock fully plugged the tunnel, his cock’s sensitivity heightened by the tight embrace along the entire shaft from tip to pubic bone. He pulled back slowly, deliberately, the head of his massive cock raking against the tunnel’s walls, tweaking the prostate, eliciting a deep, resonant growl in his partner that vibrated throughout his entire body, increasing the sensations and bringing the coming flood to the brink. He stopped as the head reached the opening, enjoying the feeling of the ring of muscle quivering against his fraenulum, his partner’s growl increasing. Jake’s heavy, pendulous balls seethed, ready to unleash their prodigious load. Squatting slightly, he adjusted the angle of his cock so the head would smash his partner’s prostate as he rammed in all fourteen inches down to the pubic bone. The separate muscles of his massive quads stood out in stark relief, vascularity pulsating and engorged, the massive root running along his inner thigh branching out to feed power to every muscle. He flexed his cock, watching, enraptured, as it swelled even bigger, became even harder, the veins flooding it with blood, steeling the shaft and sending bolts of exquisite pleasure spreading throughout his godly body. Jake’s core tightened, the globes of his perfect arse contracting and squeezing as he slammed his cock in as far as it would go, and then further. As he smashed past the prostate, the tsunami was triggered. It was Jake’s turn to groan, as his partner’s orgasm and ejaculation began, massive waves spreading up his shaft, tingling, more bolts of electric pleasure sending him wild. As Jake slammed in as far as it would go, his balls slapped into his partner’s arse, his orgasm contracting and pulsating muscles throughout his pelvic floor. The hole clamped shut around the base of Jake’s shaft, a natural cock ring further swelling and hardening the already diamond-hard cock. As it swelled, his massive cock pushed harder against the walls of the tunnel, increasing the strength of the muscular contractions as it struggled to contain and eject the monster invading its depths. Jake’s eyes rolled back as his partner’s cock pumped out splashes of thick, creamy cum. As the first few arcs of cum splattered against his partner’s pecs and abs, a large glob settling in his thick, dark beard, Jake allowed himself to ejaculate, his own muscular contractions mingling with those of his partner, heightening their ecstasy. Jake’s balls, so eager to unleash their load, rose up, and his cock somehow swelled and hardened even more as his ejaculation began. The pressure exerted along the length of his cock, and especially by the ring of muscles clamped around the base of his shaft made it more difficult for his cum to make it through all fourteen inches, causing high pressure spurting jets of cum to spray deep within, the massive load contained by the swollen head plugging the tunnel. Even as they both continued ejaculating, Jake leaned in for a deep, passionate kiss, the taste of cum on his lips adding to his explosive wave of orgasms. *** “Get out,” Jake said, as he stood up and went to shower. “Fuck, mate,” he breathed heavily, still recovering from the orgasm, “you were mind blowi–” “I said, get out.” He didn’t even turn back. “Can I at least get your number? I don’t even know your name…” He trailed off, distracted by the incredible view of Jake’s naked body walking to the en suite. The X shape, his glorious arse cheeks, sitting atop massive ham-hock hamstrings, the sweep of his quads visible even from behind, his back muscles mounding and rippling as he walked, roadmap veins - everywhere he looked, splendour upon perfection. Jake ignored him. The cumrag, having served his purpose, already forgotten. Despite his swelling dick - how could you not get hard at that view, he thought? - he hurriedly dressed, the cum covering his abs and chest already drying, sticking to his shirt, and left. **** Brad, Amber and HE were sitting in Brad’s living room, regrouping and discussing the recent events and the fallout. “Can you still sense him?” Amber asked. They all knew which 'him' she was referring to. “Yes…” He hesitated, “…he’s having sex.” It was a very odd sensation, having his best friend’s subconscious as a stream in part of his brain. Despite everything, Amber and HE both blushed. Amber, in particular, was still trying to process her feelings about Jake. She could not let go of the fact that they meshed perfectly, their sex on a level she had never, and almost certainly would never, experience again. But, equally, she could not forget his treatment of her. His callous disregard, the violence against her without so much as a second thought. Yes, he was under the effects of the vaccine, but was that merely amplifying an existing tendency? She did not know, and the conflict was gnawing at her. What made it worse, she could never discuss it with him. Jake could not - must not! - ever know or be reminded of his rampage. They all feared if he learned what they did – what he did – that he would try to regain his abilities, and his reign of terror would resume. She nuzzled into Brad’s strong, comforting embrace, his Herculean arm around her. He was no Jake, it was true, but he was kind and loving, the sex was fantastic (though, of course, not the perfection she had with Jake), and his body was phenomenal. And, yet, she still could not shake the thought and feelings - he was no Jake. **** As Jake’s orgasm erupted in a corner of Brad’s brain, his own dick chubbed, and his mind wandered, lustful thoughts – of tits, of arse, of legs for days, of vascularity and muscle – flooded his brain, like cumshots pumping hot man cream, flooding holes. Amber nuzzled into him, the feel of her pert, luscious tits pressing into him causing lustful fire to tingle through him, making a beeline for his cock. He smiled. Not for the first time he silently thanked Jake, his best friend and, in many ways, his saviour. If Jake had not convinced him to break his vow of celibacy, he would not have met Amber. Not since Angelina had he felt such feelings for a woman. Amber would never replace Angelina - nobody ever could - but Amber was a mighty fine substitute.
  5. SchwalbeMarc

    The hunk from the other class

    This story contains humiliation, brutality, violence, domination, bad language and men to men interaction. If you get offended by one of this things please do not read it. The hunk from the other class My story starts at the 10 grade in the school in the secund half year. I was always one of the short, skinny guys and been a sucker for sporty, well build or muscular guys. But I haven’t come out jet or been sure about myself what I want or be honest to myself about that. We had a sport event at the school with all classes and all years. The classes from one grade made teams and compete against each other. Clase A with C and B with D and E with F. I am in the class B and my class was more the nerd class. Most of the pupil are were strong in the science subjects. The class D was more the sport and language class with some hunks and pupil that are strong in learning new languages. So Clase D was your opponent. There was one guy, Jason, that I often see in lunch breaks that play any kind of sport, hang around with his mates or try to get next to some girl. Once I have seen him swiping his sweat from his forehead with the lower wend of his tank top. His abs shine in the summer sun with that sweat. I have often saw him and look at him and try to keep under the radar like most of the time. The sport event was exhausting and the hours went by fast. We made challenges with the actual classes but also mix our classes up and do challenges mixed. At the end of the day we all was exhausted and most of us dirty cause of the dust and dirt on the field. Cause of that I was much slower in the changing room as usual. Usually I am one of the fasted there cause I feel very uncomfortable, with myself as well as I am scared about losing control of my body or staring to long at someone. It was just a safety mechanism to avoid conflicts and be as invisible as possible. But today it was totally different. I was exhausted and slow, taking a few looks at some of the guys I have a sucker for and stare in the air with no focus. Taking breaks and set down on the bank a few times, and chatted and checked my phone. Suddenly I notice that the changing room got really quiet. I look up and determined myself nearly completely alone in the room. Only my and Jason was there. As I notice he set also there at the bank and types something in his phone. He was nearly necked. No shirt and no short or jeans but boxer briefs. His well build pecs and arms good visible. The view was some sort of hypnotizing for me and I stared a bit too long to keep myself completely invisible. I break myself free from the trance and start to get dressed again. I risked two more quick gazes and see him how he texted and get up to get dressed. We never had to do with each other, not even in the chemistry or biology class we both were together. So nothing could be there that was between us. As I swung my backpack on my shoulder and turned around and bumped into him. I haven’t heard him coming over to me and he still wear only underwear. My nose first and then my face. I am confused and made a step back. I raise my head to look up to his. His body with 6”3 high and 190lbs with, most of it muscles, towering over me. I didn’t know what happened and why it happened. “I was careful and didn’t look to often and not that long to him. And he hadn’t seen me taking a look at him. “Hey did you think I don’t notice that?”, he asked. “What do you mean?”, I replayed. “You know exactly what I mean!”, he answered “I don’t kn…ahhh”, I tried to get myself out of this situation but he pushed me and his pecs flexed. I stumble cause I hit the bank. “The looks! You thought I didn’t notice! HEEE!”, he said loudly “What are…”, I tried again “Shut the fuck up! I have notice long time ago that you always take a look at me every time you see me. Every lunch break I see you and can feel your gaze to me. Even when I am not looking in you direction I can feel it.”, he started to smile. “I…I..”, I started to stutter “I been waiting months for a change like this! To tell you and to show you your place in the school and the society.”, in that moment he griped my throat and pushed me against the wall. His biceps bulged and the vein on it appeared. I saw stars and felt the pain in the back of my head where my head hit the wall. I tried to free myself from his hand. The harder I tried to free myself the stronger he pushed and squeezed my throat even harder. Out of nowhere his fist hit my stomach and I slumped down on my knees. I felt sick and hold my guts. As I looked up again to him, his smile got even bigger and he started to chuckle. “Oh boy you have no clue how your live will change!”, he said with joy. The moment I made myself smaller and bow down to protect my stomach. His shoe hit my back with the bottom. It were his dirty, used sport shoes. He started to stomp on my back and rubbed his shoes on my shirt. I felt some stone in the sole on my skin through my shirt. Than the shoe hit my head and smacked it on the floor I saw again stars and the pain exploded in my head. “Fuck Yes feel that runt. Fell the power I have and have over you. How easy I can do with you whatever I want and nobody will believe you and know you cause you are invisible for most of the people.” He walked over and opened a door with power and the sound of the door hitting the wall echoed through the room. “Doesn’t that smell good and familiar?!” I didn’t answer. He came back with big steps and before I could move away he griped a lot of my hair and pulled me up. I tried to get his hand of my hair but his grip was to strong. He ignored my attempts to get free, and dragged me over to the toilets, that he opened seconds ago. The smell of the sweat of the changing room got now mixed with the smell of piss farts and other stuff. He forceful opened a toilet cabin and nearly throw me in the cabin. Jason stepped over my back and pressed my face hard on the toilet seat. I try to get away again but this was as unsuccessful as before. He made a step back and slapped my face so hard I banged my head against the wall again. He laughed again: “HAHAH so fucking pathetic!” My face burned like fire. My nose started to run. My thoughts were just: “Don’t show him that you are scared and weak or any other emotion! Be strong and keep calm! Don’t start to cry!” He turned me away from the toilet, by pulling me at the collar of my shirt. He was so fast and careless that my shirt started to rip at the collar. As he noticed he griped both sides and tore it completely apart. His smile grow again and a thick vein appeared on his neck. I was now sitting in front of him on the ground with a half face that turned nearly fire red, a slightly dripping nose and a destroyed shirt. He towers again over me and this time even bigger cause I was still on the ground. His pecs even more massive than before cause of the angle. His quads a bit wider than my one torso. His abs now visible and his arm much wider than I expected. I felt so weak and scared as well as powerless that I didn’t know what to do. He reached down to his boxer brief and pulled it down. His semi hard dick flopped out of it and his balls too. As I noticed what he was planning it was to late. He slapped his dick in my face and barked: “Open you mouth and show me how much you want this and how much you admire myself!” I didn’t move. I was like frizzed from his body and dominance. He slapped his dick in my face again, but this time harder. “OPEN YOUR MOUTH!”, he said slow and in a deep, powerful and very dominant way. “No”, I answered. His hand smacked my face again hard. My face starts to burn even more. “Disobedient piece of shit!”, he answered. I was so scared about more consequences that I opened my mouth. He shoved his dick on my mouth and gipped my hair again. He started to fuck my face. First slow and calm but soon wild, rough and merciless. I gaged a lot and he forced his dick more and mor in my mouth and then in my throat. I try to push myself away from him but he held my head in place. After two deep thrusts that got down in my throat and my nose hits his abs, he held me in the position and I gagged stronger than ever. The spit runs down my chin, my eyes shaded tears. He pushed me of his dick and my back banged against the toilet. Stroking now his now full erected dick, that was not huge but well sized he moaned. “Did he moaned before?”, I asked myself. Yes he did but I was so focused about not to gag or vomit that I had completely turned off my ears. His moans got louder and louder and with a really deep loud and animalic roar he came. The cum hit me right in the face, hair and torso. My mouth, one eye most of the hair and a bit on my torso was covert in cum. The cum also landed on the floor and the toilet. One last shot of his tick creamy cum dropped directly on my crotch an my jeans. He gasp for relief and his smile was huge. “That’s what I call a good cock sucker! You are a natural talent compare to all the girls I had.”, he let out. In some way it made me proud, but the secund thought was that he is going to want more and mor often if I am as good as he said. Without waring his face turned into rage and he gripped my throat so strong that I nearly didn’t get and air. “If you tell anyone about this you are dead. They won’t believe you anyway but the rumours would be nasty. And you don’t want me to get angry!”, he made more than clear. I node. The smile on his face came back. He than let my throat a mor lose but his other thumb of his other hand he collected some cum of my chin. And hold it in front of my mouth. “Lick it!”, he commanded. I opened my mouth and he shoved his thumb in. I licked it clean. His grip changes from the throat to the neck and he pressed my face again on the toilet seat. “Lick it clean. I don’t want any evidence of this here!”, he said. I was shocked about that. I didn’t want that it was super disgusting and humiliating. Even more than the things before. I try to shake my head, but I had no chance. He pressed my face directly in his cum so I had no choose. I start licking. “Yeah that gut little bitch.” I licked the toilet completely clean as he told. Suddenly he turned me back and a flashlight made me blind. He has taken a picture of me. He smiled, “As memory and as insurance for me.”, he said in a smug way. “Tell me your number!” “What?!” “Give me your fucking number so I can call you as a slave day and night to tell you when and where I need something or what you have to do for me!” “No…chhh”, his hand was faster on my throat than I could recognised. He lifted me up with one hand and slammed me against the wall. He than slowly lifted me up and my feet started to dangle in the air. I started coffing and death rattle cause I couldn’t get air. My feet kicking in the air. His smile was full of evil sadistic delight. His shoulder got flexed as well as his arm. the should got bigger and the vines in his arm and forearm started to appear. Than his eyes went down to my crotch with was showing a big bulge. “You filthy, disgusting little faggot! You are kind of enjoying this isn’t it? Look at your bulge. Oh is that mine or yours?!”, he asked and collect the cum from the jeans. “Mine or yours?” he stuffed his thumb in my mouth. It was defiantly his. But cause I was death rattle my mouth still was open. “Who cares! Now give me your fucking number!” His fist hits my stomach hard again. “O..O…Okkkayyy”, I stuttered, cause I so this as the only chance to get free and don’t black out or get killed. He let me drop to the ground where I slumped together. I gave him my number. He turned around and got away. On his way out I could heard him say: “See you my slave!” This was the day that my whole life changed. This ist my first story here, and I am not a native english speaker. Let me know in the coments below what you think abou the story. More cheaters or stories could be possible.
  6. AlphaIndustriesCWU45

    Everyone wants to fight John

    Be careful, this story contains explicit brutality and violence. Hello everyone, because drawing takes so long, here is the beginning of my first story. All people are older than 18 years. Everyone wants to fight John This year's middleweight boxing champion had decided to challenge MMA fighter John in a fight. The fight had been announced for a long time and the hall was completely sold out. As with all fights John took part in, only women were allowed in the audience. Other than the champion, the only man present in the hall was the referee, an experienced man who had officiated many of John's fights. Before the fight began, the mood in the room was calm. In the cage were the referee and the 22-year-old middleweight champion, who was already warming up with air punches and jumps. His weight was 180 pounds with a body fat percentage of 6 percent. His athletic body glistened with sweat. He wore a red poser, through which the imprint of his relaxed but proud penis was clearly visible, and red boxing gloves and wrestling boots. The women in the audience chatted relaxedly. Then John entered the hall through a side door. The 21-year-old MMA fighter was known for his well-developed skeletal muscles. When his dominant stature came to light, the room suddenly became quiet. He was wearing an Alpha Industries bomber jacket, a model CWU 45 in size xxxxl. The navy-colored nylon stretched so tightly over his relaxed 39-inch upper arms that the finger-thick veins of his basketball-sized biceps were clearly visible through the fabric. His enormously well-defined triceps fought for space with a lat muscle that gave him a back that was wider than it was tall at 51 inches, so much so that you could hear the nylon of the bomber jacket rubbing together as he walked. A sound that caused the first women to spontaneously reach between their legs to dampen their rising excitement. John had zipped his bomber jacket all the way up, but that was only possible because the nylon around his medicine ball-sized pecs had stretched so much that the stretch marks were clearly visible. How else would a 112 inch chest fit in a standard size xxxxl jacket? Not to mention the tension around his enormous deltoids. The veined bases of his forearms, which were about as thick as his head, disappeared into his white boxing gloves. In addition to his impressive upper body size, John had thighs with impressively divided, vein-riddled quadriceps heads measuring 92 inches in circumference. As he walked, the insides of his hairless thighs rubbed noticeably together, their momentum forming an almost semicircular shape around his impressive leg muscles. The hairless thigh muscles also showed impressive definition and vascularization. The calf heads, which were clearly divided into two parts, were collectively thicker than a man's head. He wore white, tightly laced wrestling boots. The most impressive thing about his body wasn't his skeletal muscles, but the shaft of his penis. The member was the thickness of a baseball bat and almost burst his stretched white poser. He was completely relaxed and prominently protruded forward from the bulge of his quadriceps. Veins and a fist-sized fuck head were clearly visible through the stretched fabric. Orange-sized eggs stretched the fabric down and moved noticeably back and forth with each step. A well-groomed appearance was important to John, which is why he usually kept his penis covered in public. Fighting weight 320 pounds. Body fat percentage 2 percent. The eyes of every woman in the audience were on John as he strode majestically across the hall into the cage. Most of them focused on his penis or his huge glutes, depending on what the view revealed. John walked majestically through the hall and finally reached the cage. Once there, he assumed a clearly visible position, calmly took off his gloves, closed his eyes and slowly stroked his left hand from top to bottom over the shaft of his relaxed member. The women in the room held their breath. John kept his left hand on his flaccid penis and, with his eyes closed, opened his mouth very slowly as if to suggest a soft moan. He then raised his right arm and placed his right hand on the back of his head. The nylon of his bomber jacket nearly burst on his upper arm as his basketball-sized bicep touched his right ear. The scent of his right armpit spread gently from his position throughout the hall, and the women who stood near the ring and smelled his scent spontaneously developed a wet spot between their legs. A slight grin appeared on John's face. He lowered his right arm and removed his left hand from his penis. Then he slowly unzips his Alpha Industries bomber jacket. The enormously stretched nylon immediately revealed the shape of his pecs. John wore a white shirt under his bomber jacket. It was a Levis denim shirt. The mother-of-pearl buttons that John had pressed together to prevent them from spontaneously popping open over his medicine ball-sized pectoral muscles. As he took off the sleeves of his bomber jacket, it became clear how much the denim was fighting against his upper arm muscles. His biceps and triceps as well as his shoulder muscles almost caused the shirt to tear. It was strained so much that the cuffs were placed in the middle of his forearms. Spread wide open. The collar of his white shirt draped majestically and John's thick neck. His venous neck muscles were visible and were so well developed that they had served him well in many combat situations. The shirt was so tight that your thin waist and the lower part of his enormously developed abdominal muscles were visible. The bottom of his eight-pack looked like two tennis balls fighting for space, and from there well-developed veins ran into his crotch. Because John valued good looks even in fight situations, he kept his shirt on, slowly put his boxing gloves back on and turned to his challenger. He had been warming up the whole time with air strikes and preparing for the tournament. The referee declared the fight open and both fighters took fighting positions. Both the challenger and John covered their heads with their boxing gloves, with John's biceps almost touching his forearms. The challenger took a few steps towards John and threw a few punches at his opponent's defense. John's boxing gloves hardly seemed to feel his opponent's punches, of course the 320 pound man didn't move when he was attacked by the 180 pound man, so the first clinching typical of boxing soon occurred. His opponent slipped under John's armpits and tried to grab the man. However, this was hardly possible for him due to John's well-developed upper body muscles. His boxing gloves did not even reach the middle of John's massive back, so John simply lowered his arms and thus completely fixed his opponent's arms under his armpits. Very slowly, John bent his upper arms so that his boxing gloves slipped between the two fighters. His opponent still completely immobile with his arms fixed under John's armpits. John's biceps grew to such a size that one wondered if they would break the challenger's upper arms through their sheer mass. The two fighters remained in this position for a moment and John grinned into his challenger's face. He slowly took a small step forward, and the challenger couldn't help but stumble backwards. He was completely fixed under John's armpits. The sleeves of John's shirt were almost bursting. And so he stood up and pushed his challenger in front of him in one lap around the entire ring. He couldn't help but stumble ahead of him. The audience catches their breath and as they complete their lap something amazing happens. John closed his eyes and brought his face closer to his challenger's. He could hardly back away, and it wasn't entirely clear whether he even wanted to. And then very slowly John stuck out his tongue and licked the challenger's face. First over the left cheek, then over the right and then over the left again. Both the referee and the women in the audience at the back held their breath. Finally, John took a step back and let go of his opponent. He fell on his back, completely surprised, and you could see that an erection had formed in his tight combat trousers. The tip of his average-sized penis was clearly pointing towards the ceiling of the fighting hall. Amazingly, despite his strong muscles, John also had amazing speed. Without hesitation, he pounced on his prone opponent and placed his 320 pounds on the 180 kilo man. He made sure to lie down so that well-trained chest muscles pushed his opponent's face to the ground. Under John's body, only his opponent's hips and legs stuck out between his slightly higher, spread legs. John held his arms straight out so that I was almost touching his biceps. His deltoid muscles swelled upward and only stretched the white material of his shirt further, his pectoral muscles were placed on his opponent's face, and it was not clearly visible to the audience whether John was applying significant pressure to the other man's head. In any case, he first tried to press himself free from below with his feet, which only caused a slight vibration on John's body. And over time the pressure attempts became fewer, which could also have been because the seductive scent of sweat from the crack between John's pectoral muscles further aroused the defeated man. John slowly dropped his hands off the ground with his boxing gloves and began to assume a kneeling position, his opponent's head firmly fixed between his pectoral muscles. So he slowly stood up without his opponent's head coming out of the deep crack between his medicine ball-sized chest muscles. His opponent also staggered to his feet and when he came to his feet he began to press against John's shoulders with his boxing gloves to free his face from the muscular grip. John grinned and spread his muscular arms wide to the side to show the audience that no further restraint of his opponent was necessary, merely the pressure of his pectoral muscles resulted in absolute captivity of the opponent's head. With his arms spread wide, John began to walk along the edge of the cage again, pushing his opponent who was trying to free himself in front of him. In this situation, the women in the audience realized how seductive the scent from the crack in the pectorals that the challenger could smell must be. He's probably been trying to lick John's pectoral sweat with his tongue deep into the opening between the buttons of his jeans shirt. Then John placed both men in the middle of the cage, stretched his boxing gloves behind the back of his head and began to enjoy smelling the sweat from his armpits, first left, then right, then left again. Through the crowd of aroused women there was a slight moan, some of them began to bend slightly and gently massage their wet clitoris with one hand. Some of the women in the front rows, who could smell John's sweat, had their panties down to their knees and were fingering themselves unabashedly. After John had sufficiently enjoyed the scent of his armpits, he slowly bent forward, forcing the face-fixated man to his knees. He arched his opponent's back until he finally touched the ground with his thighs and stretched his feet into the air behind his back, his head still inescapably fixed in John's solid pectoral muscles. So John was able to reach behind the man's ankles with his boxing gloves and bend his opponent's back to the maximum. Then he began to stand up again, and when he had reached a completely upright position, he held his opponent's ankles in his gloves at shoulder height while he stood in a U-shape with his back maximally flexed, his face still between Jones massive pectoral muscles. To prevent his back from being overextended, the man flailed wildly. In this bent position, the erection of the average-sized penis of the completely restrained man protruded forward from his body like a steel pipe. John's pectoral sweat had apparently had an effect through his Levi's shirt. Grinning, John walked slowly towards the cage bars with the man bent over his head, his face between his pectorals, fixed with the knuckles of John's boxing gloves and his back stretched to the maximum in a U-shape. The erection pointed forward like a cannon. Once at the bars, he slowly began to push the challenger's penis, covered by his stretched poser, through the narrow opening of the bars. And when he began to masturbate the man in the cage by gently tensing his strong thighs, a never-ending loud moan arose from John's pectral region. While the challenger's pleasure filled the hall with loud moans, most of the women in the audience had stripped off their panties, thrown their legs over their shoulders and started fingering both fuck holes with both hands. Some used the dildos provided to stimulate themselves deeply. The eroticism of the situation reached its first peaks and the first women sprayed their secretions high into the air, which filled with moans of pleasure and the smell of vaginal and anal secretions. The challenger began to produce large amounts of precum while moaning loudly. They came out of his piss slit and darkened the fabric of the poser stretched around his average-sized glans before they dripped to the floor in long ropes in front of the cage. A girl then stormed to the cage and greedily began to deapthroat the steel-hard penis that was sticking out of the bars while her best friend satisfied her deeply anally with a large dildo. This would have been a moment in which the referee should have intervened according to MMA rules, but he had long since taken off his pants to fuck himself deep anally with his microphone stand while moaning loudly. The whole hall was boiling with eroticism, and waves of orgasms went through the women, some of whom squirted their vaginal secretions high into the air, while John, grinning, slowly began to pull the ankles of his opponent, who was hanging overhead, towards him in order to further tighten his arched back bend. (Some new paragraphs added.)
  7. musclegin30

    The Estate: Part II (Horror Story)

    Synopsis The Glencross twins are back to finish their day of killing. This time they face off against the police sent to investigate their gruesome crimes. They expect a night of killing and growing, but what they don't expect is their estranged Uncle. He knows the secret to their power, and with him on police's side can they put an end to the Glencross twins' reign of terror once and for all? Find out in this, the stunning conclusion of "The Estate" Prologue Patrick Glencross sat in the burgundy wingback chair of his living room, nursing a brandy. It was early, but he needed a drink. A cigar lay dying in the ashtray beside him as he stared out of his penthouse window, eyes fixed on a point so far in the distance he couldn’t actually see it, though he knew it was there: Glencross Estate, the house of blood and horror. He tapped his loafered foot on the floor and drummed his fingers on the armrest. “Fuck,” he mumbled, after a sip of Brandy so small it did nothing but wet the tip of his tongue. It was his nephews’, Evan and Rupert’s, birthday. They were 21. Like most of the men in the Glencross line, they had signed their names in blood in the demon’s book and the gift (really a curse) had passed to them. Strength and size, the ideal masculine form, and all they had to do was kill for it. Patrick shook his head at the thought. He and his brother, Lawrence, had each been given the chance to sign their names when they turned 18. Lawrence was the older brother by one year and jumped at the chance with glee, signing the book quickly, under the proud gaze of their heavily muscled giant of a father. Patrick refused when his turn came, however, not sharing his family’s bloodlust. He watched with jealousy as his brother grew year after year, the pride of his father’s eye, while he was the black sheep pariah, pushed aside, ignored, laughed at. He built his body the natural way, the moral way, developing a great physique for a man nearing 50. He was thick and toned, but nothing like his colossus of a brother. At least his conscience was clean and his soul, safe… But was it? He often wondered if it was enough for the good to not commit evil, or if it was the good’s duty to actively fight it, and end evil. Was cutting ties with his family and refusing to take part in their evil enough to ensure his salvation, or did he have to ensure that the evil could not go on? He knew his nephews had signed the book and for three years he sat idly by while they killed and grew. One day they would have sons of their own, who would be pressured to sign the book and the evil would persist. Patrick rose from his chair and clenched his fists; a look of determination fell upon his face as he caught his reflection in the windowpane. He saw the wrinkles around his eyes, the thinning hair, going grey. If he waited any longer, he’d be too old to make a move, and it had to be him that made the move. This was family business. He flexed and felt his muscles swell against the fabric of his plaid button-down shirt. He still had strength. Patrick nodded his head. He’d go to Glencross Estate, barge through the doors of that manor, knock his brother flat on his back if he had to, and destroy the demon’s book. “Destroy the book. End the curse!” Chapter 1 Officer Sean Henderson stood, casually flexing his muscles beneath his dark blue uniform. Fuck, he filled it out good. The fabric stretched, having a hard time containing the bulging mounds of mass he had built over years of heavy lifting, heavy eating, and heavy roiding. There were some other big guys on the force, but none came close to him. Henderson was by far the biggest man at the station. Probably the most handsome as well, he thought, with his close-cut blonde hair, green eye, wide jaw and strong cheeks. Henderson had to laugh at himself. It was just like him to be thinking about how hot he was, when his mind should have been on the situation at hand: the chaotic murder scene and investigation happening around him. “Enjoying yourself?” Came a voice from his left. Sean turned to see Officer Vincent Amato sauntering up to him. “What’s the matter big guy, you got nothing better to do than flex those huge muscles of yours?” “I can think of a few things I could be doing,” Sean said. “Like this…” He grabbed Vincent and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. “Woah, big fella,” Vincent said, when they released. “Not when we’re working, remember.” Sean looked down at his twink of a man. Well, Vincent was actually an average sized guy, but next to Sean’s 275 lbs, average men looked like twinks. Sean smiled as he stared at his man’s handsome face, his dark, slicked back hair, 5 o’ clock shadow, and tanned Italian features. “I’m starting not to care if anyone sees,” Sean said. “So what if they find out? Most of the guys on the force would be too chicken shit to say anything to me.” Sean laughed. “Just let someone try to call me a fairy.” “Well, I do care, baby,” Vincent said, looking side to side, “And in case you hadn’t noticed, we have police work to do.” *** Det. Jean Morgan’s eyes darted from side to side, as she and her partner, Det. Owen Lerner, toured the crime scene. Her eyes would linger on a footprint here and a blood splatter, there. Her mind was racing to piece it all together. There were a thousand clues, each a puzzle piece, that would present a clear picture if only she could put it all together in the right order. What the hell happened at Glencross Estate? “Most of the killings seemed to take place in the extensive hedge maze,” Francis, the CSI, said. He was a young, freckled guy, with messy red hair. He looked fresh out of college, despite being nearly 30. Jean was reminded just how old she was getting. Everyone was looking like a kid. 18 years of this shit would do it. Every case left a line on her face and even darker circles under her eyes. She needed a long vacation, somewhere tropical, but in that moment, she’d have settled for a cup of joe. “I’m thinking this could have been something ritual,” Owen said. “You know a lot of these old families are involved in secret societies, and weird rituals.” “Is that right?” Jean smiled. “It’s an unspoken truth,” Owen said, nodding his head. “Look at Epstein. A lot of money makes a person think they’re God. It makes them live in their own world, separate from reality. A world with their own rules and beliefs. You ever heard of Bohemian Grove?” Jean rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to make sure to put all that in the report, Lerner. The chief will get a bang out of it.” Jean brushed it off with a joke but wouldn’t rule it out. She never ruled anything out this early in an investigation. Something about these grisly murders didn’t seem normal, whether it was because of some ritual or not, she couldn’t be sure, but her intuition was telling her that the puzzle she pieced together was going to be a strange one. Call it a woman’s intuition, but don’t call it that around her. Jean Morgan called it a detective’s intuition because that was what she considered herself. A detective first, and a woman second. And the intuition was telling her something else: That they were all being watched.
  8. musclegin30

    The Estate (Horror Story)

    This is not a feel-good story. There is violence, gore, and death. In honor of Halloween, I decided to write a what is basically a muscle slasher story. So, if you like muscle snuff, this is for you. The first three chapters will come today, so you can start it, since it is on the longer side. The rest will be posted on Halloween. Synopsis: Four friends (Chris, Alex, Danilo, and Niles) are invited to what they hope will be a fun weekend at the family Estate of two of their college acquaintances (Evan and Rupert Glencross). But joy soon turns to horror when the friends discover why the muscular Glencross brothers really invited them. The friends are plunged into a race for their lives as they struggle to escape the estate. “Blood is life. Blood is power.”- Frederick Glencross, 1872 It is said that if a house is old enough, one must assume someone has died in it. So, it stands to reason that the older the house, the more death it has seen. Glencross Manor is 200 years old, and if its blood-stained walls could talk, they would scream... Chapter 1 “I bless the raaains down in Aaafricaaa!” Danilo belted out at the top of his lungs, singing along to the radio. He couldn’t hold a tune if you paid him. Alex told him as much as he turned the car off the main drag and onto a tree-lined side street. “You don’t like my singing?” Danilo asked, grinning toward Alex in the driver’s seat. “Just don’t think of trying out for The Voice,” Niles said from the backseat, briefly looking up from the game on his phone. “The wild dogs cry out in the niiiight!” Danilo sang. “Oh God. It’s so bad,” Alex said, through a laugh. “And your accent is not helping.” Danilo turned around and looked through the space between his seat and the side of the car. “What about you, Chris? Do you think my singing is all that bad, because I think I’m as good as Toto?” Chris stopped staring out the car window and said, “As good as Toto the dog, maybe.” “Ooooh, burn,” Niles said. “My man said you sound like a dog trying to sing.” “You all should hear my Sam Smith,” Danilo announced. “No!” The other’s said in unison, then burst into laughter. Chris turned back to the window and watched the trees whiz by. The sound of his friend’s conversation melted into background static as he entered a near trance-like state. Ever since he was little, he found it easy to space-out on long car rides, lost in the world of his thoughts. He thought it was strange for them to be invited to Glencross Estate. Evan Glencross and his fraternal twin, Rupert, were only casual acquaintances of the group. They were known through mutual friends and had hung out with them no more than twice all of last semester. The Glencross brothers were seniors, while Chris and his friends were Sophomores, and there was very little fraternizing between the years. The brothers were rich, from old money. They lived on an estate for crying out loud. Chris would be shocked if he and his three friends had $400 in all their bank accounts, combined. But the most glaring difference between the brothers and the friends was physical. Evan and Rupert Glencross were huge. They had the kind of comically big muscles that turned heads and made any man jealous. Both were football stars and very popular with the opposite sex. Chris and his friends were four, short, skinny guys who never touched a weight set they hadn’t been required to in PE class. “Why do you think they invited us, seriously?” Chris asked. “Man, you’re still on that?” Niles looked at him and sucked his teeth. “Who cares why? We’re going to be living like rich people for a weekend.” “He’s scared it’s a prank,” Alex said. “It could be,” said Chris. “Evan and Rupert are nice jocks,” Danilo said. “They will not prank us. Besides, they could have done that on campus.” “Yeah man. Just try to enjoy yourself, for a change.” Niles tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey guys, I think that’s it up ahead,” Alex said. “That place is huge and look at that wall around it,” Niles said with awe. “That thing would give Trump a hardon.” “Imagine being so rich you don’t have a fence; you have a fucking wall,” Alex said, shaking his head. Chris looked out the car’s back window. Then out the side windows. Then out the front window. He smiled. “That’s nothing. Imagine being so rich your driveway is a road.” “Huh?” Danilo said, looking confused. “I just noticed it,” Chris said. “There are no turn-offs on this road and no other houses. And look, it leads straight up to the wall. We’ve been on a private road for a while now.” “Oh shit!” Alex said with a laugh. “Why didn’t I make that connection back there. The road we turned on was called Glen Drive. Duh.” “Another thing I notice,” Chris said. “We’re completely isolated out here.” “Oh, there you go again with the paranoia,” Niles said. “If anyone should be nervous, it’s me. I’m the only black guy, and I’ve watched enough movies to know that if the rich white folks are into freaky shit, I’m the first to go.” He laughed. “And yet I’m as calm as can be.” Alex stopped the car in front of the gate, which Alex assumed was 12 feet tall. It was solid metal, painted black, standing in sharp contrast to the pale stone wall it connected to. Chris eyed a box attached to the wall with a beeping red light, various buttons, and what appeared to be a camera lens. “I guess that thing is the intercom,” Alex said, undoing his seatbelt. “I’m going to press-” Before he could finish his sentence, the tall black gates opened, as if pushed by an invisible giant. “Guess not,” Alex said, buckling his seat belt. He drove through the gates and let out a low “fuck me.” Chris’ jaw dropped. Danilo let out a “woah” Niles clapped his hands together and said, Chris had expected big, but Glencross Manor could only be described as palatial, something you would expect from European royalty, not in New England. It was a mountain of marble and brick assembled in the classical form, a testament to excess and wealth. His eyes were immediately drawn to the mammoth portico. Where you would expect to find roman style columns supporting it, instead there were two massive statues in the form of nude, muscular men with their arms stretched high. The men were more heavily muscled than the Farnese Hercules. “Interesting architectural choice,” Chris said, pointing. “And anatomically correct too.” Niles laughed. The driveway ended in a large circle right in front of the house. There was a red Toyota already there, which Alex parked behind. Chris immediately got out of the car and stared up at the statues: solid marble, stunning detail. He didn’t notice Evan and Rupert Glencross had opened the door and were standing at the entrance, until one of them spoke. “What’s up guys?” Rupert said, in a low base. Chris’ eyes immediately fell on the brothers. Both wore shorts, tanks, and sandals, there muscular frames on full display. They took up every inch of space in the doorway, looking like contest ready bodybuilders. “I’m good parking here?” Alex pointed to the car. “Sure thing,” Evan Glencross said, sauntering down the steps, his voice every bit as deep as his brother’s. The friends and the brothers greeted each other with handshakes and bro hugs. Chris couldn’t help but feel an erection growing in his pants, being so close to all that muscle. Muscle that was attached to two handsome faces. He could never get used to their size. When did these guys start working out? When they were three? They were both a little north of 6’ 3’’ and wide as barn doors. Big enough to make Chris and his friends, not one of whom was over 5’ 6’’, feel like children. When Rupert Glencross shook his hand, his fingers nearly disappeared in the mitten like paw, rough with callouses. And the hug! Like grabbing a sack of boulders covered in skin. He couldn’t help but wonder how many kinds of roids these two handsome freaks were taking. “Thanks again for the invite,” Alex said. The others voiced their agreement, and complimented the home. “No problem, guys,” Evan said. “We just hope you’ll enjoy yourselves.” He ran a hand through his brown hair and flashed a set of pearly whites. “We will,” Niles said. “You guys got a pool?” “Two, one indoor and one outdoor,” Rupert said as he and his brother led the friends inside. “But first, you need to meet our father.” “Is he as big as you guys?” Danilo asked, jokingly. Rupert paused and turned. With a slight grin plastered on his handsome alpha male face, mirrored by his brother, he said, “He’s bigger.” Chapter 2 They followed the hulking brothers across white shining tile, down an expansive hallway, framed in wooden arches. “I honestly expected a butler to greet us at the door,” Niles said. Evan turned his torso slightly and glanced back towards Niles. “All the staff are off for the entire weekend,” he said. “Well, there goes my plans of being waited on hand and foot,” Alex said, laughing. “Don’t worry,” Evan Glencross said, “You all will be taken care of.” Chris stared at him, as he spoke. The sentiment was nice: “you all will be taken care off.” But he didn’t like the way he said it. The tone was filled with a false warmth. It was ominous, more a warning than a comfort. Chris shook his head. That was just his paranoia filling his mind with nonsense. This would be a fun weekend and he would enjoy himself. He repeated that silently, like a mantra. “And here we are,” Rupert said after they had walked God knows how far. He gestured ceremoniously to a large sitting room. “Father, the other guests are here.” Other guests? Chris had assumed it was just his friend group who had been invited for the weekend, then he remembered the other car parked out front. They entered the sitting room and the elder Glencross rose from the wingback chair he had been sitting in. Rupert hadn’t been lying when he said their father was ‘bigger’. He was callosal. The largest, most physically impressive human he had ever seen. From the look of awe on his friends faces, he could tell they felt the same way. “Guys, this is our father, Lawrence,” Rupert said. “Father this is Chris, Danilo, Niles, and Alex.” He pointed to each of the friends in turn. Lawrence Glencross stepped toward them and shook their hands, nearly crushing them with his beartrap like grip. He was handsome for a man near fifty, with short brown hair, greying at the sides. He stood a full head taller than his sons and must have weighed at least 100 pounds more. His khaki chinos and navy tee looked painted on to his lean, hulking physique. Chris didn’t understand how the clothes didn’t burst to shreds at the slighted movement. “Pleasure to meet you boys,” Lawrence said in a deep voice. “You’re huge!” Niles exclaimed, unable to hold in his shock. Lawrence and his sons laughed. “I get that a lot,” Lawrence said, casually bouncing his pecs and flexing his arms. “Do you compete in bodybuilding,” Chris asked, his eyes rolling over the mountain of muscle in front of him, briefly pausing to take in the mammoth bulge in the crotch. “Oh, heavens no,” Lawrence waived his hands dismissively. “Glencross men are just big. Always have been.” He gestured to the wall behind him. Chris noticed it was covered with portraits of men in dress clothes. The oldest were paintings. The newest, photographs. “The men of the Glencross line,” Lawrence said, smiling with pride. Each and every one of them was huge. “Amazing,” Danilo said. “Great genetics,” said Niles. “And other things,” Lawrence said with a smile. Chris assumed he meant steroids at first, but they didn’t have steroids over a 100 years ago. “That accent.” Lawrence turned to Danilo. “Somewhere in Eastern Europe?” “Ukraine,” Danilo said. “Ah, very nice,” Lawrence said. “There are a lot of big men over there. But I see you weren’t blessed in that department. None of you were.” The four friends looked at each other, with confused faces. Lawrence’s face was serious when he spoke. The smile he had, had disappeared. “I guess not,” Alex said, finally, with an uneasy smile. “Make a muscle!” Lawrence commanded. “All of you!” The friends each raised an arm and flexed. Lawrence felt each muscle. His hand could wrap all the way around each arm with ease. “So tiny,” he mumbled. “Can any of you fight?” He raised a fist as big as a ham and bought it down with shocking speed, but stopping short. The four friends flinched. Chris thought he might piss his pants. Lawrence turned to his sons and grinned. “You boys didn’t want a challenge this year, I see. They’re as small as the other two.” “Does it matter?” Evan asked, clearly annoyed. The elder Glencross shook his head. “No, it doesn’t. Though, I always found it more fun when they were a bit of a challenge. Oh well. It’s your birthday. You boys do it how you like.” Birthday? “Alex,” Chris whispered, “Did you know it was their birthday?” Alex shook his head. “No.” “I’m a little confused,” Niles said. “What’s going on?” Lawrence smiled. “There’s a game Glencross men can only play on their birthdays. You’ve been invited here to play it. Two other players are already here, taking refreshments out back.” “What kind of game?” Chris eyed him suspiciously. “You’ll see,” Lawrence said, “But first…” He raised a basket. “Put your cell phones in here. The game will test your intelligence so cell phones will allow you to cheat and we can’t have that.” “We’re starting the game now?” Alex asked. “The game started the moment you were invited,” Rupert said. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the phones back, obviously,” He laughed. The friends apprehensively dropped their phones into the basket. “Good!” Lawrence said, setting the basket on a table beside him. “Now boys, show your guests to the back and let the game begin.” Chapter 3 They were led to a large deck, overlooking an expansive back yard. The yard would have been impressive on its own, but it was made more impressive by an expansive hedge row maze the seemed to stretch as far as Chris’ eyes could see, a green sea that must have taken decades to grow. Two other guys were seated at a table on the deck, sipping lemonade and eating from a tray of finger sandwiches. Chris thought he might have seen them around campus before, but didn’t know them. “This is Jeremy,” Evan pointed to an Asian guy on the left, “and this is Mike,” he pointed to a white guy on the right. Both were short and skinny like Chris and his friends. Just what kind of game were they going to play? Chris thought it odd that not a single one of the Glencross’ jock friends was present on their supposed birthday. He expected them to have countless tall, over-muscled buddies to fraternize with. Instead, they choose to hang out with 6 skinny dweebs? Evan introduced the four friend’s and the handshakes started. “Nice to meet you,” Jeremy said, extending his hand toward Chris. “I’ve seen you in the student Union. You’re in the Culinary Club, right.” “I thought I’ve seen you around,” Chris said. “Yeah, I’m in the culinary club.” “Cool.” “While you guys get more acquainted me and my bro are gonna go get ready,” Rupert said. “Help yourselves to the food and drinks.” “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Alex stepped over and took a finger sandwich. Niles and Danilo followed. The brothers stepped back into the house, grinning at each other like they were sharing a silent joke. “So, are you guys good friends with Even and Rupert?” Mike asked. “Not really,” Chris said. “More, acquaintances.” “Weird,” Mike replied, picking up a sandwich. “Neither are we. We just know them casually through a friend of a friend. I was honestly surprised to get an invite.” “Yeah,” Jeremy said, with a mouthful, “But who could pass-up a chance to spend a weekend in a place like this, for free.” He gestured to the estate. “Right,” Danilo nodded, stuffing his mouth. “Father’s a little weird, though,” Alex whispered, stifling a laugh. Everyone nodded their agreement. “Did he comment on your size, too?” Chris asked Jeremy. “Yeah, it was weird.” He frowned slightly. “Like, dude, I get it, you’re huge, but not all of us can be a giant.” “Oh shit,” Mike said, nearly choking. He glanced up and Chris followed his gaze, as did the others. Lawrence Glencross was standing in the window overlooking the deck, staring at them, expressionless. When he saw them looking, he closed the curtain and disappeared behind a panel of white. The group shared a look, then burst into laughter. All except Chris, who merely smiled nervously. “Hey guys!” A deep voice boomed behind them. The group turned away from the table of refreshments to find Evan and Rupert bounding out the door. Chris’ eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he saw what the twins were wearing: skimpy black posing trunks that struggled to contain their massive packages, and nothing else. Every inch of their huge, muscular bodies was exposed, each muscle group bouncing and flexing as they walked across the deck. “What. The. Fuck?” Alex said. Everyone’s mouth was agape. “Oh shit, the white people are into some freaky shit. I’m screwed.” Niles mumbled beneath his breath, just loud enough for the group to hear, but not the Twins. The Glencross brothers beamed, grinning like clowns, obviously enjoying the reaction their insanely developed physiques were getting from the skinny guys assembled before them. They bounced their bulbous pecs and hit a few poses. Chris could feel his cock stiffening again. He adjusted it discretely and noticed others in the group were doing the same. How could you not get hard when witnessing such a display of the perfect male form. The twins were enjoying themselves as well, sporting bulges that threatened to pop their skimpy posers right off. “We’re so big, bro,” Evan said. “Yeah.” Rupert grunted, flexing harder. “And we’re gonna get bigger.” “So big.” Evan slapped his brother’s delt. “Yeah! So fucking big!” Chris saw a wet spot forming in Rupert’s posers. Was he leaking pre-cum? Was he getting that turned on by his and his brother’s size? What the fuck was going on? And why were they invited? “This is weird,” Danilo whispered. “Agreed,” Chris said, his eyes fixed on the rippling mounds of muscle before him. The brothers were lost in a trance like state, of flexing and grunting, loudly expressing their desire for more size, and getting more turned on as they did it. They flexed so hard, they began to sweat in the late morning sun. One would slap the other and then vice versa. They were getting themselves worked up, pumped for something. And then it was over. The brothers faced the group, grinning and panting, skin red and glistening. “You ready to start the game?” Rupert looked over them. “What’s the game?” Mike asked. “And why are you dressed like that?” Alex gestured to their pumped-up bodies. “And most importantly, what did we just watch?” Niles said, shaking his head, a hardon visible in his pants. The brothers looked at each other and laughed. “The game is called ‘You vs Our Muscles,’” Evan said. “It used to be played in the house, a long time ago, but the maze was put in 50 years ago and it’s been played outside ever since. The maze starts here at the deck and exits all the way over there, by the woods. As you can see, there’s no way around the house from this point. The only place to go is through the maze. The object of the game is to make it through the maze without getting caught by me or my brother. We’re dressed like this because clothing would get way to constrictive-” “And we don’t want to get our clothes dirty,” Rupert chimed in. Evan nodded, “Yeah, that too. This game gets messy. What you just saw was us getting hyped up to win.” He made a fist and slapped it into his other hand. “Understand.” The group stared at each other, a little confused. It sounded simple enough, but it was still so strange. “it’s like a fancy game of tag,” Mike said. “What happens if you catch one of us?” “You versus our muscles, happens,” Even said. “Mike, you come here, and we’ll show you guys. The rest of you stand by the entrance to the maze and be ready to start.” Everyone did as commanded by the muscle-god brother. Chris stood dead center in the middle of the five by the maze entrance, staring up at the deck. Mike stood in front of the brothers, looking like a child compared to them. Their arms were as thick as his legs. Their pecs, as big as his head. His twig like body looked frail in comparison to the towering twins. “If this is a test of strength, I think you guys are going to win.” Mike laughed. “Just stand still and shut up,” Even said, grabbing hold of Mike’s left arm. Rupert took his right. The brothers then placed a hand on each side of Mikes head, with their thumbs locked under his chin. Their comically huge hands each covered a whole side of his skull. “High five, bro,” Evan said. “High five.” Rupert grinned. Chris watched as the brother’s arms tensed. Muscle striations appeared through the skin; veins popped out in high relief. Mike’s feet left the ground. Up, up, up. Two feet in the air. He kicked and flayed, as the skin on his face wrinkled, smooshing together. “Guys, this… hurts, aah,” Mike struggled to say through gritted teeth. “What are you doing!” Jeremy shouted. “Holy shit!” Danilo backed away. Niles and Alex stared on with equal parts confusion and revulsion. Mike’s little body shook, struggling to fight against the towers of muscle holding him, but his arms were locked. He could only kick air. He let out grunts of pain, followed by an agonizing scream as the brother’s press harder on his skull, their muscles rippling with power. “This isn’t cool!” Alex shouted. “You’ll kill him!” Jeremy darted up the stairs. Chris reached out, trying to grab him, fearing what would happen, but he was to slow. Jeremy made it to the top of the stairs but took a kick to the torso from Rupert’s massive foot. He flew back and landed in Alex and Chris’ arms. Jeremy panted, struggling to reclaim the air that had been knocked out of him. Then Chris heard it. The crunch. Mikes skull cracked. He watched blood poor from his friend’s eyes, nose, and mouth. Mike went silent, His face, now disfigured, and brain, squished in. “High five!” The brothers exclaimed in unison as Mikes eyes bulged from his head and his skull completely gave way, popping like a stepped-on grape. His skinny body went limp as the brothers were given a blood shower by Mike’s spurting arteries. Their hands were pressed together, up in the air, covered in bone, blood, brains, and Mike’s skin. They lowered their arms and looked down at the five skinny guys, cowering in fear and shock. Chris’ eyes grew wide as saucers. His jaw went slack. No fucking way, he thought as he watched the blood on the brother’s bodies disappear, absorbed into their skin. And the growth…They were growing! Evan and Rupert moaned in pleasure, their bodies shaking, as they swelled, muscles getting more developed and veinier. “Each time we kill, we grow,” Rupert said, as the now more massive brothers stepped slowly towards them. “But only on our birthdays.” Evan said. “That’s the secret of Glencross men.” “But, we like the thrill of the hunt,” Rupert said, with a sadistic smile, “So run! Run for your pathetic little lives. We’re giving you a head start.” He raised his arms and flexed; the muscles of his arms looked like it might burst through his skin. “All this muscle is coming for you.” The group scampered into the maze. Danilo fell to his knees and wretched, but Alex grabbed his arm, dragging him along, leaving a trail of throw-up in his wake. “We should fight them!” Jeremy shouted, and Chris pushed him forward. “Not without a plan,” Chris said. As he moved through the walls of green, Chris heard a faint deep voice call behind them. He couldn’t make out what had been said, or even which brother had said it, but it didn’t matter. His focus was ahead, toward the end of the maze, toward survival.
  9. tester26

    Teenage Destroyers

    This was an attempt to write a snuff story that is based on the Teenage Destroyers series on Snufflovers. It may not be to your tastes. You have been warned. TEENAGE DESTROYERS PART 7 "You should have seen the tight bitch I fucked last week. For a virgin she sure screamed like a whore." Nick chuckled to his friend Tony. "Too bad she wasn't able to take all of my cock." "I'm fucking tired of bitches complaining about getting fucked. Whatever hole I pound, I wanna go hard and fucking balls deep, man." Tony agreed. At only 18, Tony and Nick looked sculpted from marble with 8-pack abs, ripped muscle, and big, firm asses. They were fucking 300-pound teen musclegods. Most days, they showed up at the gym without shirts, their bodies were accentuated by the sweat that glistened off their smooth skin as they worked out. "Fuck, all this talk about bitches has me so fucking boned up, I wouldn't mind a blowjob from a faggot." Tony squeezed his semi through his loose red basketball shorts. Nick's eyes scanned around the lockers, spotting Tom, a thin seedy-looking punk a few lockers away pulling a blunt out of his locker. His lips curled into an evil smile. "I've got an idea. " Nick said, as he slipped off his shorts. A grin of understanding curled on Tony's face and his eyes expanded with glee and quickly stripped as well. "Ah shit...fuckin' love you dude." Nick and Tony rush and corner Tom against his locker. "What's up bitch?" Tony announced. A sound, barely perceptible escaped Tom's lips. "So you're the asshole stinking up the lockers with your fucking blunts, huh?" Nick boomed. Tom shuddered, his head barely reaching up to the shoulders of the two studs. He was less than half the size of either Nick or Tony, and his eyes were filled with a mix of lust and fear. Before him was the naked, hulking body of the teenage bodybuilder Nick. Tom speechlessly ogled the vast expanse of the pectoral muscle that blocked his exit from one side. Nick's arms hung loose at his sides, the biceps unflexed yet still so unbelievably huge and wide. Tom's eyes admired the solid rack of abdominal muscles, then followed the curves of the sculpted obliques as they flowed into a pair of legs so heavily laden with muscle that no one could doubt their monstrous power. Between those pillars, Nick's thick 12 inch cock stood at full attention, nearly pressing into Tom's belly. To his side was Tony, nearly equal in mass and just as naked. His pecs were swollen from the blast he'd just given them. His deltoids were huge and rounded, still engorged with blood from the overhead presses, the detailed serrations still visible. He grinned evilly and he stroked his own massive cock. "Time to teach you a fucking lesson!" Tom didn't stand a chance. Nick picked him up and easily picked him up and threw him onto the bench. "Ahhh!!" the punk cried as he struck the edge of the bench. To Nick, Tom was just a toy. A fucktoy that he could use and brutalize in any way he wanted. And God did he want to! He wanted to use his hard 12 inch cock like a weapon to stab the little shit with. He wished his cock was twice as long and three times as thick, so he could fuck the little shit until his organs had turned into mush. He'd use his horse cock to fill Tom up with so much jizz, it would be forced to drip out of his mouth, nose, ears and eyes. Nick straddled the punk, pressed his ass on the boy's upper body, and squeezed his muscular thighs to pin the kid's arms in place. Meanwhile, Tony got on his knees in front of the bench, his massive cock at the perfect height to enter the fuckbag's mouth. Tony immediately shoved his cock head in the punk's mouth. The 11 inch dick was the biggest, longest, fattest thing Tom had ever had in his mouth. He had less than a third of his rod in when he hit the back of the Tom's throat. Tony applied strong pressure on the kid's head and felt his hard dick continue its long journey down the slut's pipe. The massive tip was acting like a snow plow, sending the small organs to the sides, bumping against his little heart, rearranging his tubes and slowly making its way down the punk's body. It was pure delight for the muscle teens to watch all 11 inches of thick teen cock make its way deep in Tom's throat. "Holy fucking shit, yes!!!" The stud shoved the toy's head down with cruelty to get the large base of his huge cock in the slut's obscenely widened mouth. Just as Tony's trimmed pubes touched Tom's stretched lips, Nick felt a bump under his ballsack. "Fuuuuuuuuuck, man! Your cock is poking through his stomach. I can feel it on my nuts, it's fucking crazy." Tony enjoyed the incredible feeling of having all 11 inches of his enormous cock buried to the root in someone's throat. Even when Tom started to choke and tried to move his head, the way he squirmed felt amazing. Occasionally, Tony would withdraw enough to let the living cumdump breathe before he shoved all the way back in, his balls slapping over Tom's nose and eyes. Nick got up and Tom's arms immediately flailed around but Tony quickly pinned them down to the bench. With one hand, Nick lined up his footlong cock to its target and brutally thrust his whole cock into the kid's colon with a sickening squish. Tom's head was shoved hard against Tony's crotch and the gigantic cock was pushed even further down, the outline of his dick head clearly visible through Tom's chest. Tom's scream was muffled by Tony's meat as he was violated by a second, even larger, cock. "Fuuuuuuuuuuck, that's so freaking hot!" Tony panted. "That's it, slut, feel my cock push against your little heart. You got muscle all around you! Huh you like that? Bet I could snuff you with just my dick. Shoot you so full of cum your goddamn head would explode!" They pulled almost all of their thick poles out of Tom, and then rammed all of themselves back into the small, frail body as hard as they could. In perfect sync, Tony and Nick pistoned their living toy with long hard thrusts. The former ravaged the punk's throat and punched the bottom of his stomach, all the while smashing his teen balls on Tom's eyes and nose. The latter battered the kid's internal organs, forming a footlong fuck tunnel that ran from asshole to sternum. The punk's esophagus and colon were so incredibly tight as they gripped and moved with the teens' cocks. Both teens kept changing the speed, tilting the punk backwards so that Nick's massive tool was pushing against the toy's stomach walls and making it bulge out. "Fuck! You can almost see the veins on your dick through the bitch's stretched guts," Tony marveled. Nick rubbed his hands over the bulge, enjoying the feeling of Tom's insides wrapped tightly around his shaft. Tom was used like a fleshlight, with such wild abandon that when both studs pulled out, it looked as if Tom deflated. But when the two teen gods shoved their pricks back to the hilt, Tom's small body seemed to double in size. Their cocks bumped against one another, as they raped the young punk, was just the cherry on top of the muscle sundae. "This fuckbag is tight as shit, man!" Nick shouted. "I know, bro!" Tony screamed. "His throat is clasping my dong like a motherfucking vice-grip!" Both teens increased their speed at which they pummeled Tom's throat and colon, slamming their massive teen tools in the most ferocious manner, not caring if the living cumdump could take it or not. Sweat ran down their tight abs and dripped all over Tom's body. But they were already close. Their thrusts became more erratic, and out of sync. They both held Tom's sides, four big teen hands squeezing the punk's mid-section, almost completely encircling it. The studs felt both their massive cocks move in and out of the teen beneath their fingers. Jabbing their massive fucktools balls deep inside the rag doll one last time and their cocks spasmed, shooting pure alpha cum into the middle of the punk's blown up body. Somehow, the punk managed to stay conscious during the whole ordeal. But with all 23 inches of cock pulsating each time a jet of hot teen semen shot inside him, Tom had no influx of oxygen and started to choke. He couldn't see nor hear anything besides his own heartbeat drum in his ears, while he frantically hit whatever he could with his small fists. But the slut's panic only fueled the studs' lust, and made them shoot even harder inside the boy. Tony and Nick came deep inside the little fuckbag for close to a minute. After their body wrenching orgasm, the 18 year old gods haphazardly pulled their dripping, still rockhard dicks out of Tom's holes. It was a bit surreal to watch nearly 24 inches of solid teen meat withdraw from the skinny body of a punk. Cum poured out of Tom's gaping ass like a waterfall as he coughed up Tony's load, gasping for air. Nick and Tony high fived over the punk's wrecked body and quickly switched places. Nick took the boy's head while Tony faced the narrow sloppy ass, and they pushed their jizz-covered, rock-hard shafts inside the worn out sextoy. "Fuck Tony, his throat is as tight as his ass..." Nick said as they both bottomed out. "I know, bro! I feel your jizz sloshing around in his guts! Let's see how much damage we can really do with our mother fucking cocks." Tony laughed. With almost 2 feet of massive dick buried to the hilt inside the punk, the two 18 year old teen jocks began to stand. They meticulously went from kneeling, to squatting, without ever pulling out. When they were on their feet, they started to rise while stepping to the side, away from the bench. Nick and Tony stood in the middle of the locker room: two god-like figures with firm round buttocks clenched with enthusiastic depravity, tight abs glistening with teenage sweat as their granite hard tools kept Tom in place. The studs were perfect fuck machines and had every intention of testing how relentlessly... ferociously... and remorselessly they were going to hammer and crush this punk's insides with their mighty pricks. The first fuck had just been a warm-up. Now they were ready to go all in... without any mercy for their toy. The studs hadn't started thrusting yet. They just kept their schlongs buried to the root inside Tom and looked directly at each other with an evil smirk. Both let go of the boy at the same time and put their hands behind their heads, showing off their muscled bodies. The punk was face up, suspended three feet above the ground, supported only by two rock solid teen dicks buried deep in his guts and the pressure from the studs' hips against his face and his ass. Once again, Tom suffered from a cruel lack of oxygen. His head was turning purple and he frantically moved his arms in the air, not even trying to hit the jocks using him. The studs grinned as the punk started to convulse, his little dicklet hard as a nail. But the ripped studs didn't budge. Giving up an inch would allow Tom to slide off Nick's dick and catch a breath. Tom shuddered and began to shake more violently. His little body was being spit roasted by 24 inches of massive teen schlongs. Nick and Tony could feel the fuckbag spasm around their cocks, his throat and ass muscles tightening, deliciously squeezing their fucktools. "Shiiiiiiit Nick, his insides are milking my cock! I can feel his heartbeat on my dick!" said Tony. "Fucking A, man! His motherfucking throat is getting tighter every time he tries to breathe!" Nick's own fat cock stretched Tom's esophagus to the limit, almost dislocating Tom's jaws. But the cumbag's spasms and shuddering slowed down, then suddenly stopped. His arms and legs came to a complete halt, and dropped on either sides of his body as he passed out. Finally, Nick and Tony moved their right hands under the punk to help support his weight and slowly pulled out, until just the heads were in Tom's holes. His insides stopped contracting and the teens were ready to enjoy another mind-blowing fuck. Tom automatically sucked in air while Nick's fat member left his throat. Of course that was only momentary. Both teen gods immediately pushed their shafts balls deep back inside the fucktoy. Not wasting any time, the 18 year olds sped up their thrusts, taking their dicks almost all the way out before they slammed them back to the root. They were still amazed by how deep they could shove their monster cocks and it felt so deliriously good to have their balls slap against the cumbag with every forceful stab. One can hardly imagine what it looks like when two huge teen cocks, each of them being almost the size of a baby's arm, punch fuck a punk boy's skull and ass in perfect synchronicity. Two incredibly sexy teen studs using every muscle in their massive teenage bodies to thrust their thick shafts without mercy, deliberately trying to destroy and break their living fucktoy in half. The athletic teen studs rammed the punk with such wild brutality it looked as if their cocks were going to tear through Tom's chest. Tom was twisted in such a way that his head was forced closer to his little butt and his guts was pushed upward. In that angle, Tony and Nick's porn-sized cocks slammed against the small chest and made it bulge out. The frail cum-filled body was being ravaged with unspeakable violence, but none of the teenage boys gave a shit about his well being. Tom's lifeless arms and legs bounced around with each sadistic jab as the studs used the punk like a punching bag for their cocks. They never spent more than a half second inside or outside the fuckbag. Instead, they constantly slammed the slut's ass and face with such ferocity that he would certainly be covered in mean, dark bruises before sundown. "Aw yeah, you're just a fucking toy. I'm gonna pulverize your guts. Fuckin drown you with my load!!!" Nick grunted. "Aw fuck dude," Tony growled, "Gonna break you, you little shit! End you with just this fucking monster cock! GONNA FUCKING DESTROY YOU!!!!" Nick and Tony slammed their cocks one last time inside the boy's unconscious body and began to breed the punk, completely dousing his insides with their thick, white seed. So much jizz was shot inside the punk, his stomach bloated like a balloon. About half of the 18 year old's mammoth rods tented Tom's stretched out belly and they could clearly see their heads pulse and nearly pierce through Tom's bulging chest with every jet of thick teen spunk. The two teens moaned in pleasure as they rode our their orgasms. Something about being drowned by two enormous loads caused Tom to cough and seize, but not wake up. Too caught up in their orgasm to care, the two teen gods rammed their 12 inch cocks in so roughly that Tom's head touched his butt, breaking his spine in half. *CRACK!!* "UH!-" the punk moaned, his soft body stopped twitching and went limp. Tony felt his cock brush against Nick's tool, their pricks only separated by two condom-thin membranes in the middle of Tom's body. Their huge teen dick heads touched inside the kid's guts, so close that Tony could feel Nick's cock throb as it blasted cum into the fucktoy. Nick pulled his hips back, adjusting himself before pushing his massive cock deep until he felt the dying punk's heart against his spurting cockhead. He moaned as he felt it pump desperately against his hard meat. He thrust his hips again, crushing the heart between his cock and the punk's ribs. "Aww fuck yeahhh..." Nick groaned. The two muscle gods slowly wound down, their cocks still pumping cum into the boy, as they savored the final moments of sexual pleasure and the feeling of the dead boy's spastic twitches. "That's good stuff..." Tony mumbled. Tony let out a long sigh as his cock fired the last of its spunk. "This is so fucked, I can feel your cock pulsing against mine!" He moved his hips from side to side, rubbing his tool against Nick's, and both of them shuddered. The studs slowly let the dead, cum-filled punk slide off their slick, deflating cocks right onto the bench with a thud. Long strings of cum, hung from the teens' cocks to the punk's gaping holes. Two rivers of white, tinged red with blood, poured out of the cum-bloated corpse and onto the ground. "Shit man. Now THAT was good." Tony smiled and looked at Nick. Nick grinned and flexed his enormous guns and began to feel the rock hard muscle with his other hand. He shook his quads, and lovingly caressed the muscle for a moment. "Yeah..." he shook his head with satisfaction. Nick slapped him a high-five.
  10. Freakoman2

    Harder Than Steel

    My eyes are closed, I am breathing and taking some sunlight, I love wearing my Superman t-shirt and absorb the sun, it makes me feel stronger. Minutes pass and I start feeling feathers... It feels like feathers are going all over my torso. Although I hear someone grunting, I just can't understand why... I decide to open my eyes, and in front of me there is a muscular man, probably a martial artist wearing some boxing gloves and he is trying to punch me. I don't know why... I haven't done anything to him. His punches feel like feathers, but he is really straining now, I can see it by the sweat going all over his muscled body. Maybe he thinks he is strong, to normal standards he would be... But not for me. He starts panting and takes off his gloves... He goes into a beautiful most muscular pose and rips his tanktop using his hands. He yells at me... He says "I will break you with all my muscle power!!" I am sure he is strong... I am sure that to a normal man, he could maybe break some bones with those huge muscles... Arms that seem to be 23 inches in diameter, pumped and sweaty... Pecs that heave while he breathes like two pieces of meat over his torso. Legs that seem as big as tree trunks... He might be even bigger than some bodybuilders I've seen and admired when I was a skinny lad... But I am no longer that lad... He keeps yelling at me, he doesn't attack me yet... "I will bring you down beast!! Show me what you are made of!!" Beast... Many people call me that, but I am really a chill guy... Until someone decides to make me angry... This man is starting to make me angry... So, I decide to give him what he asks for and show him what I am made of... My big arms start going up to my sides, and he just stops his rambling. I flex for him. Inmediately, my Superman t-shirt explodes into hundreds of tiny pieces of fabric, unable to contain my true size... When I flex, I almost double my muscle mass... Have you ever seen 35 inch biceps? Well, now you can see them... Two mountains on top of my triceps, becoming even bigger, and I am not even that tall... Just 5'7" here, but pure muscle. I flex my quads and my military shorts explode too. Each of my legs look like a person's whole torso. 3% body fat all over my body, muscle and veins explode to face this young man that asked for this. But I will not attack... Yet. "Give me all you got, mate" I say to him, as I am still flexing a double biceps pose. He responds with a yell and sends a punch right to my chest. I hear a loud scream and blood covers my face. His fist is instantly broken into pieces, using all his huge muscle strength against my body. He tries to punch me again with his other fist, his right arm seems bigger and stronger and goes for the solar plexus. Again, he starts screaming in pain. His hand broken against my abs. And still... it feels like feathers to me. He grabs his broken fists trying to be well. He still wants to fight and flexes his amazing quads to give me a roundhouse kick in the forearm, still flexed showing my massive guns. He thinks his leg is stronger than my forearm. He is wrong. His legs breaks at contact with my arm, for me, just a gust of wind. He falls to the ground in fear... So much fear... Still flexing, I say: "I was just taking some sunlight and you have now made me angry. I ripped my favorite t-shirt because of you... and now you will pay the price for acting like a bully. You have used your full muscle strength against me and now, I will respond the same way". I stopped the double biceps pose and grabbed his right arm. He started flexing it inside my hand and it felt big, really big. But the hardness isn't enough. I just crush it and his arm disappears, blood bathing my muscular hand and forearm. He yells again, he starts crying. I flex my left arm and punch his good leg to the ground. The cement below us rumbles as a hole is left in the street due to my full strength punch. His leg explodes and disappears completely. "Now you see the difference between us. Your muscles might be rock hard but mine, are harder than steel. Your arms are twigs compared to my tree trunks, you are a pebble and I am a mountain of muscle. No one can compare to me, and still you tried to defeat me... Now let me end this and keep having a good day". His eyes paralized in fear as I walked near him. With my left arm, I lift him from his hair to look him in the eyes. I flex my right biceps in front of him and he realizes how much bigger than his head my arm is. I make a fist and punch him in the chest with all I've got, and his body just explodes into tiny pieces of flesh and blood all over the street. I throw his head to the ground, lick my massive guns to taste his blood, and walk home, to have a shower and try to keep having a good day.
  11. wshpmus

    Killer Looks

    Here''s another older story of mine. Definitely violent so if that's not your thing or a turn off then don't bother. Since muscles are synonymous with strength I think some degree of violence is always or at least very often a given. We could break down the psychology of that, but fuck that, I don't actually care why it's a turn on for me... just is. Killer Looks “It’s cash up front. Leave the money here,” the huge former pro wrestler now turned hustler said, gesturing to the entry table. “Like I said in my text, I don’t usually do guys, but I make the occasional exception. Fee is double though.” “Yes, you were quite clear about that.” The silver haired, partially balding man answered back, pulling a thick envelope from the breast pocket of his suit and placing it on the marble tabletop. “$2800, for two hours. It’s all here. Feel free to count it.” “No, you look like the honest type,” the big guy said while still picking up the envelope and peering inside, flicking through the pile of hundred dollar bills. “You can look, and touch, blow me if you want, and maybe I’ll fuck you, but that’s it. Nothing else.” “How kind.” The faintest trace of sarcasm accompanied the old man’s reply. “So I take it you know who I am, or was… I guess I’m retired from the wrestling game now. But I do keep the body in shape. That’s what I was known for. And of course I’m sure that’s what you’re paying for?” “Among other things, yes.” “Like I said, only the things I say gramps. We clear on that.” “Oh absolutely.” “Fine.” The Buff guy turned from the apartments entryway and sauntered into his expansive and sunny Miami high rise living room. The end wall a panorama of glass and ocean view. He let his lats flare out as he walked into the room, knowing it’s what his client wanted, the display of his body his former wrestling trade mark. He bent both arms up into a back double biceps pose knowing the clock had started. His neon blue t shirt stretched tight across his big back and the sleeves straining against the bent up arms, each boulder of split peak as impressive as ever. “I see you’ve kept yourself in fighting shape.” The old man smiled, a lascivious grin spread across his face. “Damn right I do. This body made me a rich man, opened doors for me. I’m not about to neglect it.” He turned and smiled at his customer. “You wanna see it, don’t you pops?” “Indeed.” Buff guy smiled like the whore he was and shucked off the t-shirt and flung it to the ground as he tightened and rippled his bared upper torso. Still proud of his physique, and the 248 pounds of bulk he carried on his 6’ 2” frame. Not quite the perfect body of ten years ago, when he was in his prime, but still a magnificent specimen, hard, reasonably toned and massive. He started putting on a show, displaying his bare torso in all the standard bodybuilder poses. The bright sunlight washing across his tanned mass. “You wanna oil me up?” “No, thank you. I think we might just be breaking a sweat shortly and I can see your muscles glistening to perfection then.” Buff guy frowned a bit, wondering exactly what he was going to be asked to do, but he continued to run through his poses. He unzipped his tight jeans and started working them down over his enormous quads, shaking them out once free of the denim and offering the sight of them up to the old man like two prized additions to his perfection. “Oh my my, those are very impressive. I do so hate a man that ignores his leg development.” “Uh, yeah. I always worked them hard.” Buff guy stated, still flexing the big thighs. “When you gotta press some 300 pounder over your head you need big wheels. Lift with your legs man.” “Very true, very true. I couldn’t agree more,” the old man seemed to smirk again as he answered. “Maybe you wanna watch a little home workout?” Buff guy asked smiling enticingly, preferring showing off while he lifted to anything sexual with this old coot. “Why yes, that would be most enjoyable.” Buff guy nodded his head towards the connecting room and walked into a bedroom converted to home gym. A wall of mirrors reflected the equally sunny space and glistened off the chrome weights and black vinyl benches and pads. He pulled off his skimpy briefs and let his nicely sized dick swing free, adding to the show his customer paid for. “Oh very nice package indeed. I had hoped your steroid use hadn’t shrunk that away to nothing.” “Who said I’ve used steroids?” The silver haired man just gave him an ‘oh pleeze’ reality check look, and Buff guy nodded, not bothering to deny it. “Yeah so maybe roids have helped me do this…” he said scooping two ninety pounders off the rack and pumping out some alternating dumbbell curls, “but everyone seems to like the results. Don’t they?” He asked while looking down at his large veiny biceps swelling and bulging with each rep. “Certainly no one would argue that. Least of all me.” Buff guy watched himself and the visitor as he did a couple sets, flexing and rubbing his own arms provocatively on each short break. “I imagine those feel quite as impressive as they look.” Buff guy bent an arm into a right angle and swung it forward for the old man to feel, who did so immediately, his grip quite powerful on the hardened muscle. Buff guy noticed this and clearly looked surprised. “Mind if I join you?,” he asked unexpectedly, and Buff guy paused in surprise. “Huh?” “Can’t let you have all the fun, now can I?” the silver daddy stated as he hands went up to his collar and started loosening the tie around his neck, pulling it off quickly and unbuttoning his shirtfront. He stared at Buff guy’s face as his shirt began to open up and his flawlessly rounded smooth shaven chest and deeply chiseled 10 pack were revealed. He shucked off the shirt and suit jacket together and unveiled an upper body of such indescribable physical perfection that Buff guy’s mouth dropped open in complete and utter awe. “Fuck yeah,” the old man moaned with pleasure at the sight of his own uncovered beauty. “I try to keep the old bones in shape,” he began stroking his hands across his own large, striated chest and down his cobbled abs, so deeply etched the shadows between each individual muscle created a dark outline highlighting the incredible definition. “I like to keep my body fat around 4%, but sometimes I think I loose track of it and just don’t have any to speak of. Shredded and ripped up like a twenty year old seems to suit me, don’t you think Pudgy?” Buff guy looked up at that, tearing his eyes off the youthful body of perfection and appraising his expression. “You calling me fat?” “No never,” the silver daddy continued while unzipping his pants and kicking them away, shucking off the shoes and underwear immediately after. “I just think next to me you do have a bit of surplus fatty tissue.” As if to emphasize his point he turned and flexed his bared rounded ass, the striations rippling across it defied belief. “Excuse me Chunk-o,” he chuckled a bit as he brushed past Buff guy and reached for the heaviest dumbbells on the rack. The 150’s weren’t often used for anything but presses and the old guy smiled at his own reflection as he started curling them like they weighed nothing. “How the fuck can a guy your age have a body like that!” Buff guy stood with hands on his hips, staring into the mirror at the naked man next to him swinging up the massive weight effortlessly. His eyes drifted down to the thick twelve inch pole between his legs, an appendage clearly twice as big as his own. “Yeah, that’s pretty fucking impressive too, isn’t it. No ones ever gonna call you a pencil dick, but next to me… well.” “I just can’t believe…” Buff guy stammered, trying to figure out what he was trying to say. “I mean holy fuck, who’d have thought you had a body like that under the suit. An old guy like you. It’s fucking…” “Unbelievable. Yes, I know. I get that all the time. Hardly a new reaction, trust me.” A light sheen of sweat was starting to glisten all over the hills and valleys of muscle covering every inch of the old man’s exposed body. “I’m rather proud of the fact I keep myself in semi decent shape.” A grin crossed his face. “Oh who am I kidding, false modesty doesn’t suit me at all. I’m quite proud of this shell I occupy. The body is a temple, I know you agree with that. Some of us have humble churches, others cathedrals.” He was finished with the weights and dropped them unceremoniously to the floor then stared at himself, admiring his own arms as they began to show their pump. “Christ, I got neighbors, you can set those down you know.” “These floors are poured concrete, they can’t hear a thing.” The old man lunged suddenly at Buff guy and pulled him into a head lock. He tightened his grip like a vice and squeezed the thick column of neck like it was a rag doll, twisting and pulling the big 250 pounder off balance. Taking him off his feet, the old man held him in the headlock for a few long moments, savoring the feel of complete dominance he felt over the former pro wrestler, then he released him with a chuckle and slap on the back. “I don’ think that was on your list of things we couldn’t do together?” the old guy chuckled looking at the red marks around Buff guys neck. “What the fuck pops!” Buff guy was pissed. “You don’t wanna play at wrestling with me! I will fucking snap you like a twig.” “Oh that would be fun, wouldn’t it. Would you like to try?” “Listen, you didn’t pay me for a wrestling match.” “Oh, pity. I thought you might actually be good at it. I have such trouble finding decent matches.” Without pausing he reached out quickly and open handedly smacked Buff guy across the face. Anger flared up, but he tried to contain it. “We ain’t playin’ this…” whack. Another slap backhanded him. “Oh the fuck we ain’t.” Buff guy yelled and sprang at the old man, who completely ready for the charge gripped him in a bear hug and swung his body forward past him and threw him into the mirrored wall. The glass shattered dramatically and the big wrestler slid down the wall onto the weight rack. He pulled himself back up, shucking off glass shards and looked at the old guy in disbelief. “I’m gonna fucking kill you, you old pussy.” “That’s the spirit,” he heard answered back before a pair of iron like fingers grabbed him and pulled him up and away from the wall, into the air and flying across the room. The big former wrestler skidded across the last ten feet of the room. “Oh, that’s going to be a hell of a rug burn, isn’t it Porky?” Buff guy got up red faced and seething and charged back across the room, slamming into the silver haired geezer and clotheslining him to the floor. He hammered down on the hard prone body with his forearms, smashing them down repeatedly against his chest trying to force the air out of his lungs. He escalated the punishment quickly and kneed the ribcage a couple times, knowing what that did to incapacitate an opponent. For good measure he put a choke hold on the old man and took his anger out on the neck cradled in his big arms, as he choked the windpipe, waiting for the guy to pass out. When it seemed he finally had and the old man’s eyes were closed, Buff guy finally let go, spit on the prone man’s chest and then sat back on his ass staring at the incredible chiseled physique lying still before him and wondering how this appointment had turned into this bizarre encounter. He was startled when the old guy quietly said in a very normal voice, “Well that was fun.” He sat up and turned to the whore, wiping the spit off his thick pecs. “You really do hit like a girl.” He stood up and put his hands on his hips, facing the wrestler who rose up off the floor. “Why don’t you give me your best shot. Free target, give it your all pussyboy.” He pointed to his own chin, and his washboard stomach. “Your choice.” Buff guy hesitated a second, but then said, ‘fuck it’ and drew back his fist and connected with a vicious right cross to the old guy’s face. His head whipped around but then snapped right back and smiled at him. “Oh princess, that was sweet. Try a little harder.” Buff guy rapid fired punches into the granite stomach like he was working a body bag and went unblocked for a good minute and a half before he started tiring out, his fists aching from the hardened muscle he was pounding. “You’ll probably have to ice those later,” silver daddy chuckled, “if you can.” He said as an after thought, then added. “My turn!” His first punch completely doubled over the big wrestler who dropped to his knees, and then vomited up his lunch. “This isn’t going to be much of a challenge at all, now is it? How very disappointing.” The muscle daddy turned to face the mirror as he spoke. “I always think I’ve found someone who’s going to surprise me, to give me a bit of a run for my money… and for $2800 you think you’d be a better run. I suppose pro wrestling really is just all for show now isn’t it. I should have known that.” He started stroking his own beautiful physique lovingly as he spoke, “But you see, I’m the real thing. I’ve worked rather hard to achieve all of this. Thousands of inverted sit ups each and every day, weight training for power and beauty, eating properly of course, isometric training, kickboxing, tae kwan doe, flexibility work, endurance, everything necessary to achieve physical perfection. And just look at me my dear boy, you have to admit, I am quite perfect. Granted, the passing of time has taken it’s toll on my face, there’s nothing much I can do about that, but my body, oh that’s another story for sure. I easily have the physical stamina of a young olympian, and the skills beyond even that. I’m afraid though our little arrangement here is going to have to be adjusted. I don’t care to be fucked, thank you all the same, but I do fully intend to enjoy that fat ass of yours. And please, do try to put up a bit of a struggle, it makes it so much more fun for me.” The silver muscle daddy walked over to the weight bench, loaded with the Buff guy’s last heavy benching weight, 345 pounds. He stood behind the bar and scooped it off the rack and pressed it up to his chest, with one easy huff of air he hoisted it over his head and did a few standing military presses, his shoulders exploding with the massive pump he was giving them, then he brought the weight down and like before curled it slowly, watching the girth of his shredded arms easily gliding the ridiculous weight up and down as the veins bulged from under his taut skin. The daddy’s big dick grew hard while he pumped the weight, and the Buff guy started to panic, knowing what was shortly in store for him. “It’ won’t hurt.” Muscle daddy slammed the weight onto the rack and did a most muscular pose as he growled, “Much.” Buff guy panicked, seeing the old dude pumped up and playing with weights that he knew no normal man could handle with such apparent ease. It must be some freakish adrenaline rush, turning the old geez into a fucking superman. Buff guy turned and ran for the other room, hoping to get out of the apartment before this man could act on his last words. He realized all too quickly that pops was as fast as he claimed, and he’d sprung at him as he made his dash and felt the vice like grip of the man’s two hands grab him by the traps and squeeze. The crushing grip stopped Buff guy dead and slowly he dropped to his knees from the incredible seering pain. “Isn’t there some stupid wrestling name for this? Cobra clutch, or death grip or something equally asinine.” Buff guy’s wince of pain soon turned to screams as he fought and clawed against the two arms gripping him from behind. “Oh this is fun, you’re like a little girl.” The grip suddenly let go and Buff guy felt a bare foot push down on the small of his back, causing him to face dive onto the floor. Before he’d even caught his breath he felt himself being picked up, scooped from the ground like he weighed nothing and then suddenly tossed across the long living room, his body sailing twenty five feet and landing hard. “Too bad your floors don’t have all that bounce of the ring. Cause I’m sure that had to hurt a bit.” The silver daddy sauntered across the room slowly, passing another mirror in the living room and smiling at his own reflection, flexing his arms a bit and bouncing his chest. “God damn just look at me. I really am the ideal specimen of a man, don’t you think so darling?” He knelt down beside the big guy on the floor and tenderly stroked a hand across the wide back. Looking down at the pool of blood under the Buff guy’s face, draining from the clearly broken nose that had crushed on impact. “Oh my precious boy, that had to have hurt. And you’re pretty face, such a shame. But I always think a broken nose makes a man look so much more masculine. Don’t you agree.” “You insane piece of shit, I’m going to have you thrown in jail.” “Oh now that’s a thought isn’t it, jail can be such a lot of fun. Think of all the men there for me to dominate. I love making big guy’s my bitch… but then, I think you’ve already figured that out now, haven’t you?” “You touch me and I’ll…” “You are funny sunshine, you’ll do what exactly?” Buff guy started to pull himself up from the floor, but had only gotten into a push up like position, his arms lifting his torso from the floor, when the old guy snatched the wrist nearest him and pulled hard and fast, flipping the big guy over onto his back while he once again applied incredible pressure to the joint he held so firmly. With his other hand he reached out and took the index finger of the hand he held immobile and then smiled directly into the sweating man’s frightened face as the realization of what he was about to do hit him. “I don’t like threats.” And he broke the finger like a pretzel stick. Buff guy screamed in agony. “Now see what you made me do. All I wanted was to play nice.” The old man chuckled, “Well that’s not entirely true, I admit. After all you are a whore. And whore’s are paid to be fucked, now aren’t they.” He reached down and started stroking his big cock, taking it from half hard to fully ready in a few moments. “I believe this was your lube of choice?” he asked as he spit onto his dick and mounted the wrestler in a quick and brutal thrust. “Well we knew that was going to be tight, didn’t we?” The Buff guy felt another round of unbelievable pain as the thick cock pounded his virgin ass. To his astonishment he felt himself being picked up from the ground, the old man had taken him in his arms and lifted his 248 pounds into the air while the big dick remained driven deep into his ass. “Oh fuck yes,” the old man groaned as he effortlessly pumped the huge man up and down on his swollen cock, holding him like some 90 pound twink and giving him a ride that defied belief. “Time to blow my load in your hole you hot little fuck toy. Daddy’s coming.” Even through the pain the buff guy felt the hot stream of jizz fill his ass, then a second, and third wave of cum followed the first. “Fucking christ almighty, now that felt good.” The old man pulled his half hard cock out and unceremoniously let the big guy drop flat on his back to the ground. “Shit, that was what I needed. Fuck yes.” He looked down at the big muscleman on the floor writhing in pain and gave him a “tsk, tsk” sound. “You didn’t enjoy that? What a shame. But then, I’m not done yet. Maybe you need to see how a real man fuck’s a whore.” He reached down to his own dick and stroked himself a few times, and the Buff guy’s eyes widened in total fear and amazement as he saw the old man getting hard again instantly. “How the fuck…” he muttered. “I know, I do have rather remarkable stamina.” He reached down and put his hands on both sides of the wrestlers face, then pulled him up from his back onto his knees, and said very calmly, “Your going to suck me off now like a good little whore, and if your teeth even so much as nick my beautiful big cock I’m going to break your neck, and as I recall, you already had that happen to you, now didn’t you? That couldn’t have been too pleasant. All that pain, the recovery time, never feeling quite the same. I think you know just how easily I could crack those vertebrae, so let’s be very careful and suck me off like a good little boy. We clear?” Buff guy just nodded and took the dick in his mouth, instantly choking as the dominant stud pulled him deeply onto his shaft. He didn’t have to suffer long, as within a minute or two he felt the hot pulse of cum hitting the back of his throat and making him gag. The old man pulled off and just smiled, “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it.” The big guy rolled onto his back and groaned, in so much pain, his nose pounding, his finger throbbing, his ass and jaw aching… “Please just go” he thought to himself but didn’t dare say out loud. “You do like these big mirrors everywhere, don’t you? You must miss the limelight, the adoring fans, the people fawning over your body.” the old guy was studying himself and his own beautiful physique as he spoke. Flexing again for just himself, he admired and preened over his perfect body. And then, defying all belief, his cock started growing hard again. “I know, just look at that. I am insatiable.” He stroked his own big cock but completely focused on just his reflection, he ignored the big man on the floor completely as he pleasured himself and quickly came to near climax again. He turned at the last moment so that his spray of man seed shot across the five feet and splattered over the buff guy. He screamed as he came, “I am a true muscle god!”
  12. photoguy

    Fraternal - P 8 up now

    Hey guys, Longtime lurker who’s finally decided to take the plunge. Not much exposition here - suffice it to say the characters are 18+ fraternal twin high school seniors, one of whom is developing a bit faster than the other... Anyway, definitely not literature; I just want us all to nut like crazy till we’re dehydrated. ************** Fraternal Part 1: Daydream Believer Matt stared off into space, blocking out the droning teacher, dreaming about his twin bro. Fuck, what if Derek kept growing? What if he shot up and out, towering over him, hitting 7’? His massive, sweaty muscles hulking with veins and striations, bulging and flexing rock hard with man power. He’d storm into their bedroom, casually breaking the door down with one massive fist, ducking down and turning sideways to squeeze through the opening... “What the fuck?!” “Sorry lil bro, but I got so fuckin horny workin out! I need your ass,” Derek growled, his deep bass voice matching his ruggedly handsome, thickly bearded teen face and gigantic body. His veiny monster dick was rock hard and leaking a thick rope of precum, slanted off to the side and ripping through the heavy material of his shorts. Derek flexed his abs and cock hard, blowing his shorts and jockstrap apart completely, his monster dick flipping upward and slinging precum onto his briefcase-sized pecs and into his thick teen beard. A big rope hung off his heavy mustache, right over the full lips, and his incredibly long powerful tongue unfurled to lap the salty goo off sensually. Derek strode over to the bed, his huge feet thudding. He reached down and grabbed Matt by the throat, his giant paw wrapping easily around the jock’s neck. He lifted his bro out of bed with one fluid motion, barely registering the weight on his hulking arm. He dangled Matt in midair. Their eyes were completely level, while Matt hung eight inches off the floor. “Enough talk. Fuck time!” Derek roared, flipping Matt around and impaling his beefy ass on the dripping, veiny 13” long x 3” diameter monster dick, the apple-sized cockhead busting past his glutes and stretching his ring wide open. Matt saw with horror in the mirror that he no longer had a tight puckered little manhole, but thanks to Derek’s repeated battering a gaping, sloppy, loose-lipped mancunt hung from his jock boy ass and hugged the giant meat wetly. His back arched as he begged for more, goading his twin into a frenzy of musclefucking, globs of hot precum belching out of his red, prolapsed, destroyed pussy, the massive cock distending his abs like some kind of alien invader. Matt watched through tears as Derek’s incredible girth dragged his guts inside out, filling him like no other man could. Suddenly Derek gripped his side hard with one huge paw, slamming Matt down until Derek’s dick was buried to the orange-sized balls. He flexed hard, a full body flex that made the veins on his muscles and cock surge, forcing him to grow outrageously bigger, stretching out Matt’s already wrecked asshole and lifting his body up. “Unnnf... so fuckin BIG...” he moaned, clamping his mancunt down and suddenly erupting like the fucktoy slut his bro’s muscle and dick had transformed him into. “Grrr, yeah, fuckin’ big.. an’ gettin’ BIGGER!” Derek growled, suddenly straightening up his towering body and flexing to appreciate his new height and power, Matt’s whole body weight supported easily by Derek’s steel-hard monster. Razor-cut striations jutted out even more across the insanely muscled expanse of this body, while veins pulsed and bulged even thicker. Fuck, Derek was noticeably bigger and leaner than he was earlier that day, bulging with raw masculinity and dripping with sweat. He felt Derek’s balls swell and tighten up as the first cannon blasts of cum began to batter his guts, his gaping pussy meat sliding up the veiny shaft from the force... RRRRING! Matt snapped to attention back in class, dick spent and dripping down his leg, as the bell rang.
  13. czechhunter69

    Hulk - Ryan becomes a big problem

    Hey there, gents! Get ready for an absolute blast because I'm thrilled to present to you the destructive sixth installment of the Hulk series. It's been quite a journey, and I couldn't be more excited to share it. Now, if you're thinking this wild ride is worth more, you can show your appreciation by sending a tip to $creativecoffeeman. For those of you outside the US, feel free to reach out to me directly here or on discord—I'd love to connect with fans from all over the world! I sincerely hope you enjoy this latest chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Trust me when I say, it was both exhilarating and exhausting, but in the most satisfying way possible. If you would like your story, turned into relality, You can easily message me on Discord at czechhunter69#0839 Previous parts: 5) Escaping 4) Exes Once more 3) Alex Loses Control 2) Alex's First time 1) Tom’s final time Source: WB Hunk’s version of Hulk. Ryan found himself overwhelmed with a mix of worries, fears, and a deep sense of pain and unease. How could Alex transform into such a monstrous being like the Hulk? The very thought seemed incomprehensible. In his state of confusion, Ryan felt lost, unsure of what to do, where to turn, or how to seek help. The question lingered in his mind: who could possibly help him, or even Alex? What if Alex didn’t want to be helped? After scribbling a note and affixing it to his door, Ryan mustered the bravery to climb out of his window, suppressing the physical discomfort he felt all over his body. The memory of their escapade haunted Ryan's thoughts, the intensity of it leaving him torn between arousal and discomfort. The raw passion that ignited when Alex kissed him, the overwhelming desire that seemed to fuel Alex's transformation into the Hulk—it was an experience he couldn't easily forget. Yet, dwelling on it in his current hiding spot among the bushes felt unsettling. The sheer force with which Alex handled his body, the impact against the ground, all while oblivious to his own immense size, was nothing short of alarming. From the cover of the forest at the edge of their property, Ryan kept a vigilant eye on the house. He observed Alex moving about, busily cleaning as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. The stark contrast between his current appearance, slender and seemingly normal, and the behemoth that had engaged in such primal acts unsettled Ryan. Alex was his normal self, not even the muscular man he saw on the couch before the hulk came out. Ryan realized Alex looked exactly like the person he had seen only days before. Normal. Nevertheless, the fear persisted within Ryan. He was terrified that if Alex were to get angry again, he would transform into the Hulk, and the consequences would be even more devastating than before. Nothing could stop him at that size. It was a nightmarish reality that clung to his thoughts, refusing to let go as he crouched in the trees barely off the property. Essentially, pinned to the ground again. Tremors of anxiety surged through his body, and tears threatened to spill as he anxiously waited, observing Alex's movements between the living room and the kitchen, as he did what he could to clean up the aftermath. The thought of what might happen if Alex was enraged by his absence was enough to keep him rooted in place, unwilling to risk venturing farther away. It was not only the sexual encounter that plagued Ryan's thoughts; he also harbored a deep fear of Alex's potential actions should he become enraged and venture into the forest in search of him. The mere prospect of facing the Hulk once again filled Ryan with dread. Remarkably, it seemed as though Alex was unperturbed by the recent events that had unfolded, continuing with an air of calmness and gentleness that further accentuated the stark contrast to his alter ego, the Hulk. Nothing like the Alex he knew just days ago. Nearly half an hour passed before Alex vanished from sight down the hallway, only to reappear moments later, peering out of Ryan's window. Overcome by fear, Ryan instinctively ducked, his heart racing with the possibility of having been discovered. Uncertainty consumed him, unsure whether he had been noticed or if he was merely being cautious. Round three was the last thing he desired, but the consequences of provoking the Hulk again were far too daunting to contemplate. The memory of Alex's immense strength, the very force that had punched through a joist, sent a chill down Ryan's spine, serving as a haunting reminder of the sheer power he had witnessed. The image of Alex's muscular physique, with bulging biceps raised and pectoral muscles trembling upon impact, remained imprinted in Ryan's mind. The resounding roar that reverberated through the air echoed in his ears, mingling with the sensation of warm saliva landing on his face and the pungent aroma of Alex's breath. The amalgamation of scents, including the musky fragrance wafting from Alex's hairy armpits and the lingering essence of their shared pool of cum, stirred a whirlwind of memories and unexpected desires within Ryan, even as he remained hidden in the woods. There was an undeniable allure, an intoxicating attraction, to the commanding force embodied by the Hulk. It awakened a primal urge deep within Ryan, an unfamiliar longing to submit to such overwhelming strength. It was a role reversal he had never before encountered, as the moment he kissed Alex, he had found himself surrendering to the mercy of the Hulk's might. A part of him, against all reason, still yearned for that experience. To be forced into submission. The sight of Alex's muscular physique as he walked into the house was what had initially drawn Ryan to make out with him. The way his pecs pressed against his shirt, the defined contours of his arms filling the sleeves, the way his legs left no room for the massive cock he didn’t used to have — it was impossible to resist. If Alex had only maintained even half of that manly appearance throughout their relationship, Ryan would have never initiated the breakup. It was a truth left unspoken, a silent acknowledgment that Alex had let himself go, ultimately leading to their separation. Had Alex still possessed the same captivating muscularity that had first caught Ryan's attention when he walked in on him watching the news, their relationship would have had a far better chance of surviving. Perched on the edge of the woods, Ryan couldn't shake off the relentless thoughts of what might unfold if Alex were to discover his absence. The mere possibility sent waves of anxiety coursing through him, fueling his primal instincts to stay hidden. It was one of the reasons he dared not venture too far away, acutely aware that pushing the boundaries might only serve to further, and repeatedly, stoke the Hulk's fury. He didn't know what to do, striking a balance between proximity and safety, ensuring that he remained close enough that if Alex did transform search of him, he wouldn't be driven to a heightened state of rage, leaving a lot more destruction in his wake as he relentlessly pursued Ryan. As Ryan sat there, his mind began to wander, envisioning Alex's current form and imagining him undergoing another transformation. In his mind's eye, Ryan pictured Alex's contorted face twisted with rage as his once-human frame underwent the transformation. Ryan imagined thick veins protruding from Alex’s skin, his muscles growing in size and strength, his flesh turning thatmenacing shade of green. The fabric of his shirt straining against the bulging mass of his back, ultimately succumbing to his size and tearing apart. Yet, amidst the vivid imagery, a particular part of Ryan's mind imagine the Hulk's immense and pulsating cock, already erect and throbbing, probably in need of service once more. The memories of the Hulk were still etched in Ryan's mind, evoking a mix of awe and terror. However, as he remained crouched in the forest, Ryan couldn't afford to let his guard down. The faint sounds of Alex's movements within the house, urging him to stay until he was absolutely certain it was safe to emerge. If it ever happened. After an hour of keeping watch from the woods, Ryan noticed a complete absence of activity. It was pretty late in the evening as it was. It seemed like Alex had finally took the hint and left, bringing a sigh of relief to Ryan's lips. He knew it was his chance to go back inside the house. With caution in his every movement, Ryan peered through the trees, scanning his surroundings for any lingering signs of Alex's presence, just in case. Taking every step with utmost care, Ryan stealthily made his way out of the woods, making sure his footsteps were silent as he crossed the yard and approached the back door. His heart pounded in his chest, his senses on high alert. The surge of nerves within him only heightened his apprehension as his hand reached for the doorknob. With trembling fingers, he turned it slowly, the door opening with a barely audible creak. Ryan slipped inside, ensuring the door closed behind him without making a sound. Now, if there was ever a moment to encounter Alex again, it was now, but he was gone. As Ryan stepped into the kitchen, an intense aroma of cum assaulted his nostrils, emanating from the trash can where the lingering evidence of their encounter remained. The overpowering stench churned his stomach, forcing him to suppress a wave of nausea. Taking in the aftermath, his eyes landed on the wreckage that surrounded him. The couches were crushed and twisted, their frames contorted beyond recognition. Shaking his head in disbelief, Ryan struggled to comprehend the extent of the damage laid out before him. And then there was that massive hole in the floor, a black void that seemed to reach into the depths of the basement, a clear testament to the Hulk's brute strength. Yet, that wasn't all. Ryan's gaze shifted, revealing the remnants of cum staining the couch and floor, a grim reminder of Alex's carelessness before he left. The sight sickened Ryan, intensifying his curiosity about the person Alex had become. The noxious amalgamation of odors and the wreckage that surrounded him made it abundantly clear that he couldn't live in the house anymore - even if he did clean it up. He needed to figure out a way to clean up the mess and restore some sense of habitability, but the sheer magnitude of the task overwhelmed him. As Ryan toiled away, cleaning up the wreckage, his curiosity got the best of him. Despite the weird and horrifically gross nature of his impulse, he couldn't resist the temptation to taste the cum on the couch and floor - it was already on his skin. He already felt weird. Just the thought of doing so made him want to vomit, but his hand were already touching and the desire setting in. There was so much. He convinced himself it was just regular cum before scooping up a handful of the gooey liquid, bringing it to his mouth. As the taste engulfed his tongue, Ryan couldn't help but relish in the warm saltiness that spread across his taste buds. His stomach growled, craving more of that savory goodness. He repeated the action, feeling the thick liquid ooze between his fingers. It was a strange sensation, something he had never experienced to this extent. But he couldn't deny the satisfying taste that filled his mouth. He licked his lips, savoring the flavor, and eagerly reached for another handful, fully succumbing to the forbidden pleasure. In a matter of minutes, a mischievous smile danced across Ryan's lips as he felt the fabric of his shirt constricting against his rapidly expanding physique. A quick glance confirmed what he already knew deep down – the transformation was real. The sensation was a potent mix of exhilaration and arousal. He reveled in the tightness, the way it accentuated the swelling mass of his muscles, fueling his hunger for more. With each passing second, the transformation took hold, intensifying the within him, forcing him to flex and adjust his stance. His heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in ragged gasps as his body elongated before his very eyes. Standing up, Ryan rose above his former self, a towering figure exuding an aura of commanding presence. The rips and tears that marred his shirt barely starting to show the raw power pulsating beneath his now- sickle green skin. A deep, rumbling laughter erupted from his chest, reverberating with a newfound depth and authority. "Ahh, fuck yes," he exhaled, the words laced with primal satisfaction. This was his moment, his opportunity to showcase the true embodiment of strength and dominance to Alex - who couldn’t have gotten too far. With a surge of muscular power, he flexed his arms, feeling the biceps and triceps swell with an incredible mass that defied imagination. He had never seen even the biggest bodybuilder this thick. Anger surged through him, fueling his determination to break free from the constraints of his shirt. How dare it attempt to contain the sheer magnitude of his form? Ryan flexed his arms again, the bulging muscles tearing through the fabric as his skin took on a darker shade of green. The sleeves ripped, exposing his powerful shoulders and arms to the world. With each rip and tear, Ryan's sense of liberation grew, Alex - should be scared him. Suppressing the urge to tear the shirt to shreds, Ryan channeled his growing power into a controlled display. He knew there was a time and place for his unleashed fury, and now was not that moment. With every flex and movement, he reveled in the sensation of his muscles rippling beneath his skin, craving the freedom to exhibit their true might. The anticipation built within Ryan, fueled by his desires for physical prowess and unleashed passion. He embraced the duality of his transformation, the merging of strength and carnal desire beging to walk towards the front door. It was an intoxicating blend that sent shivers of pleasure down his spine as each increasingly heavy step meant more rips in his clothes. Ryan knew that he had become something extraordinary, something beyond the constraints of his previous self. With each passing moment, he grew more confident, more horny as his pants fell, showing an even larger cock than Alex’s. As Ryan stood there, his torn shirt clinging to his massive frame, he knew that his journey had only just begun. He was no longer the man he once was, but was no where near as large as Alex was. The world would soon witness the might of the Hulk that resided within him, and Ryan relished the prospect of unleashing his full potential. Ryan's eyes widened in shock as he saw his hands, which were now the size of serving platters. He flexed his fingers, watching as the thick green veins on the back of his hand bulged with every movement. The sensation of power surging through his body was overwhelming, like nothing he had ever experienced before. He took a deep breath, feeling his chest expand with each inhale, and let out a deafening roar. With each movement, seams popped and threads unraveled, leaving him almost completely exposed. Ryan looked around in amazement, taking in the destruction that had been wrought by Alex's transformation. The once-tidy kitchen was in ruins, the walls cracked and the furniture smashed beyond repair. As Ryan succumbed to the overpowering force of the Hulk within him, the remnants of his former self faded into the background. The destruction and chaos that surrounded him ceased to matter. All that remained was the raw, unbridled power coursing through his veins, fueling an insatiable hunger for vengeance and destruction. His head hit the ceiling, his size still packing on. The confines of the house could no longer contain the sheer mass and might that radiated from his hulking frame without bending over. With a primal roar, he embraced the true extent of his strength and let loose his wrath upon his surroundings. What Alex had become was clearing restrained, a mere taste of the power that now surged within Ryan. The thought of revenge consumed Ryan's mind, driving him to unleash his fury upon anything and everything that stood in his path. With his meaty, massive hands, he grabbed hold of the busted couch and hurled it into the street, its weight offering little resistance to his brute force. Walls crumbled under the relentless assault, water pipes shattered, and darkness swallowed the once-illuminated rooms as he tried to destroy anything Alex could have possibly enjoyed. But it wasn't enough. The hunger for destruction growing insatiable, driving him forward with an unyielding desire for more. It was exciting for him. The object of his wrath no longer needed to be Alex specifically; anyone who stood in his way would bear the brunt of his fury or even become a hulk themselves if he was feeling generous enough. In his mind, he knew that Alex couldn't have gone too far. And if not Alex, someone was going to pay, someone might be his boyfriend Michael, and he could be like Ryan now… Just the thought of Michael becoming a hulk, was making him hard. With a mighty leap, Ryan crashed through the exterior wall of his home, shattering the barrier that once separated him from the outside world. His eyes scanned the empty space, only to find his car missing. The revelation fueled the fire of rage burning within him, pushing him further into the depths of his vengeful desires. Alex was a dead man in his mind, the epitome of his wrath. The mere thought of retribution against the one who had caused his transformation fueled his resolve to seek him out, to make him pay for what he had done. Nothing would stand in his way as he embarked on his mission to find Alex and unleash his wrath upon him. The billowing rage within him reached its crescendo, boiling over with an intensity that brooked no restraint. As Ryan stormed through the streets, an unstoppable force of destruction, trees were uprooted and sent flying through the air, their branches reduced to splinters in his path. Cars, once symbols of order and transportation, were tossed aside effortlessly, their metal frames crumpling under the might of his monstrous strength. In a blind fit of rage, the Hulk's fury knew no bounds. Car after car fell victim to his unstoppable strength, metal twisted and crushed beneath his colossal fists. The screeching of metal and shattering of glass echoed through the air as the Hulk tore through the rows of vehicles like they were made of paper, throwing them often times through several houses before they finally stopped. The ground shook with each thunderous leap, leaving deep cracks in the pavement as he lunged forward, tearing through the very fabric of the neighborhood. The terrified screams of onlookers filled the air, their fear mixing with the cacophony of destruction. The police, in a desperate attempt to respond to the chaos unfolding, arrived with flashing lights and blaring sirens. But their efforts were in vain. Ryan's rage knew no bounds and he couldn’t care less, as he clashed with officers like an unstoppable force of nature. With each encounter, he effortlessly dispatched them, hurling them aside like ragdolls, their attempts to subdue him crushed under the weight of his fury. As the rampage continued, the Hulk's anger intensified, his muscles bulging with raw power, veins pulsating with a fiery energy. His roars echoed through the desolated landscape, a primal cry that shook the very foundations of the city. In his blind rage, the Hulk didn't distinguish between friend or foe, innocent or guilty. He demolished everything in his path, his only objective being the release of his overwhelming rage. No structure could withstand the force of the Hulk's wrath. Houses were reduced to rubble with a single swipe of his massive hand, roofs caved in under the weight of his fury. The once peaceful streets were now a scene of chaos and devastation, as the Hulk left his mark of destruction on everything he encountered. The devastation seemed endless, as the Hulk's rampage spread like a wildfire. The once vibrant neighborhood was now a wasteland of destruction and despair.
  14. czechhunter69

    Bruce and Elaine

    I completed this commission for hulkfan87#0372 on Discord and have posted it here with their permission. It is based on the old hulk series, specifically the pilot episode, as per their request—and it turned out to be quite a good one. If you're interested in having a story created for you or simply want to show your appreciation to the artist, please don't hesitate to reach out. You can message me on Discord at czechhunter69#0839. For everyone else, sit back and enjoy! Bruce and Elaine Bruce grunted in frustration as he forcefully slammed the trunk shut, relieved that he had managed to find the coolant amongst her lab kit and suitcases. He wiped the sweat off his brow and made his way to the front of the car, hoisting the heavy hood open with a determined effort. As the hood creaked upwards, a torrent of steam and scorching waves of heat engulfed Bruce's face, making him wince and squint his eyes. Waiting for the engine to cool, was going to be a lengthy task on its own. As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting a warm glow, the hood provided a welcome shade inside the vintage car. Despite the idyllic rolling hill scenery, the temperature soared to a sweltering 78 degrees under the cloudless, vibrant blue sky. Elaine, a stunning sandy brunette beauty with cascading waves of hair, sat in the passenger seat, her features accentuated by the fading daylight. She fanned herself and with a sigh of relief, gracefully removing her jean jacket. With the car parked, she knew she wouldn't need it until they started driving again. "What happened?" Elaine shouted from inside the car, her voice laced with concern, as she delicately fanned herself in an attempt to find relief from the oppressive heat. Bruce sighed, his frustration evident in his voice. “Uhhhh….. Same thing as last time," he replied, his tone tinged with annoyance. "It just needs more coolant and proper mechanic. St. Louis really did a number on it.” As Bruce waited for the engine to cool, he couldn't help but ponder what that had led them to this predicament. The rage filled muscle mass he could become in an instant, sent shivers down his spine. He walked over to Elaine's window, leaning against the car's ledge, his arms crossed as he rested his head on them. She talked with him about how they could cure it, but they needed a serum sample from him as the hulk - a nearly impossible feat. These simple moments were when his flirtatious side emerged the most, an attempt to bring a touch of lightheartedness to their current predicament. Here, on the side of the road, it was just the two of them, accompanied only by the soft rustling of cornstalks crackling as they grew in the nearby field. The pursuing police had long given up, yet against his better judgment, he continued navigating the winding backroads in an attempt to make it harder for them to be found. Throughout the ordeal, he repeatedly assured Elaine that he knew where he was going, despite the scorching heat that seemed to amplify his troubles. He didn’t but there was going to be a town eventually. Elaine's unwavering charm remained unaffected by the circumstances, serving as the best way to calm him as she held his forearm. They had become a couple as Bruce adjusted to life on the run. He loved the way the sunlight played upon her hair, causing it to shimmer and captivate Bruce's attention. It usually drew him to her smile. Half the time, he had to suppress his own excitement and maintain a certain distance, carefully averting his gaze from her, fearing that any surge of emotions might trigger his uncontrollable transformation into the Hulk. "I wish they would just leave you be," Elaine murmured softly, her concern etched upon her face. “They’ve seen what you do when you’re triggered and don’t mean to turn,” She laughed. “Could you imagine what it would be like if you were trying?” Bruce longed for a cure, to rid himself of the monstrous burden he carried, yet a part of him secretly relished the incredible power that came with his transformation if he could just control it. And sometimes, deep down, he couldn't help but wonder if Elaine, too, found a strange allure in his inner monster. "I think that's why they want me,” Bruce said, his voice tinged with a mix of weariness and determination. “They don't want me cured," Bruce continued, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he spoke. "They want to replicate what I am. To make others just like me." His words carried a weight, reflecting the gravity of the situation they found themselves in. She knew it. “Well, I want you too. All of you, green skin and all.” Elaine looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of concern and determination. She reached out and gently touched his arm, offering a reassuring presence amidst the uncertainty. "We'll find a way, Bruce," she said, her voice filled with unwavering support. "No matter what they want, we're in this together.” Bruce's tired face softened into a faint smile as he looked into Elaine's eyes. “On the bright side, we could always…” Her voice trailed off as she looked at him, trying to reawaken the man who used to please her just on his own. She traced a finger down his arm. “You’ve gotten much better at those other things.” She said longingly. “With that mouth, and those fingers… without turning.” Bruce laughed. “Yeah…” drawing closer for a kiss. Their intimate moments were a delicate dance, teetering on the edge of pleasure and danger. Bruce's insatiable desires and the ever-present threat of his transformation created an undeniable tension that Elaine could keenly sense. When he got excited, he risked losing control - but it was another way she could collect a sample from him as the hulk. It was a constant battle between his scientific intellect and the raw power surging through his veins. Bruce had mastered the art of restraint, walking a precarious tightrope, suppressing the surges of excitement that threatened to unleash the untamed beast lurking within. Paradoxically, Elaine found herself drawn to this inner struggle, enticed by the smoldering intensity simmering just beneath the surface and the scientific intrigue it carried. Each advance she made, every suggestion of indulgence, held the potential to push Bruce to the brink, to unlock the depths of his own desires. In truth, he yearned for that release, and they both knew it. It had been months. In those moments when intellect and instinct intertwined, Bruce found solace in repeatedly going down on Elaine - claiming her excitement was enough to satisfy him. It was a calming act for her, and it stirred an unparalleled excitement within him. Over the past few months, this intimate ritual had become their own version of dining out, a unique way to connect with each other, even though it presented its fair share of challenges. Despite the risks, Bruce managed to maintain control, never succumbing to the transformation. They often resorted to sleeping in separate beds or even in the car, navigating their unconventional circumstances as best they could, to keep him calmer to her dismay. However, she was getting better at convincing him to do things with her. A sign that he might actually cave in if she can convince him she’ll be safe. "I can't do that right now, Elaine," Bruce interjected, pulling away, his voice tinged with both anticipation and frustration. He was acutely aware of the risk of getting too excited by her presence. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and the headache building within him. "We need to get up and going before it gets dark," he continued, consciously changing the subject. Although his excitement was evident, Bruce understood the urgency of their situation. They had to find a place to stay for the night, and he needed a cold shower more than anything. Despite his inner turmoil, he remained focused on trying to get them up and running again. Bruce hurriedly scurried to the front of the car, seeking refuge behind the raised hood to hide from the woman he loved. His excitement being around her was overwhelming, distracting his focus. He didn’t want to turn around her, but also knew it would happen one day if they kept this up. Aware of the potential danger, he swiftly stripped off his shirt and securely wrapped it around his hand, fashioning a makeshift oven-mit. With a trembling arm, he extended it towards the coolant cap beneath the hood, his preparations tinged with frustration that clouded his judgment. It was too early, and it was going to hurt. In a clumsy manner, Bruce fumbled with the cap, his actions driven by impatience and eagerness. With an ill-advised twist, the cap unexpectedly yielded, unleashing a sudden eruption of scalding steam and boiling liquid. The release was so forceful that it mimicked the grandeur of the explosive geysers of Old Faithful. The air became a brief maelstrom of billowing steam, engulfing Bruce's shirt and transforming it into a hazy veil of hot fog. Bruce yelled in pain. Elaine swiftly leaped out of the car, a mix of concern and urgency propelling her towards him. Backpedaling as fast as he could, Bruce found himself momentarily disoriented by the onslaught of steam. The scene became a chaotic blur, the swirling vapor weighing heavily on the air, as he struggled to regain his balance and assess the repercussions of his ill-fated attempt to add coolant to the ailing vehicle. Grimacing from both physical discomfort and the weight of his own folly, Bruce couldn't ignore the drenched state of his shirt, mirroring the dampness that had seeped through the crotch of his jeans. The scorching pain extinguishing any flicker of excitement that had welled within him. He understood the imperative of reining in his desires, especially when they endangered Elaine's well-being. The magnetic pull of her presence was undeniable, but the potential harm it could cause served as an insurmountable barrier. Deep down, he knew that without a cure, he might have to make the agonizing choice of leaving her behind, all in the name of keeping her safe. She was trying to teach him to control it, but he wouldn’t didn’t want to let it out. With a heavy sigh that seemed to echo his internal struggle, Bruce summoned every ounce of self-control within him, purposefully stepping back and putting a distance between himself and the tantalizing dame already coming to his aid. The deliberate pain, both physical and emotional, acted as an unyielding deterrent, grounding him in the harsh reality of their circumstances. He couldn't afford to let his desires endanger well-being of the woman he held dear. Elaine, her heart aching with understanding, approached Bruce with a tender empathy - she knew he did it on purpose. She gently rested her hand on his shoulder, offering a comforting touch amidst the turmoil. "Please, just leave me alone," he pleaded softly, his voice filled with a mixture of longing and resignation. He knew that giving in to his desires could have disastrous consequences, and he didn't want to subject Elaine to such risks. Bruce carefully removed the shirt that had shielded his hand and proceeded with utmost caution, pouring the coolant into the car at a glacial pace. His hand throbbed but would be fine after a little bit - and was already starting to feel better. Each deliberate action was an attempt to regain a semblance of normalcy, to momentarily escape the weight of their extraordinary circumstances. "I'm sorry, but I... I want to feel some sort of normal again," he confessed, his voice laced with weariness and longing for a life unaffected by the incredible burden he carried. As the final drops of coolant trickled into the car, the twilight descended, robbing the world of its vibrant hues and reducing it to a grayscale canvas. The fading light mirrored the muted shades that now tainted their once-vibrant sex life, an unfortunate consequence of The Hulk. As Bruce turned the key in the ignition, the car sputtered to life, emitting a throaty chug as if awakening from a slumber - it wasn’t good enough for a long drive, but it would do. The soft, warm glow of the headlights timidly illuminated the asphalt ahead, guiding their journey towards the next small town. Their destination was the first motel they saw coasting in. Its name, Motel Lee, would have been proudly displayed on a sign, but the lamps remained unlit, a reflection of its worn-down appearance. Yet, this dilapidation worked in their favor, ensuring affordable rent and sparing them from prying eyes. Elaine assumed her usual role of acquiring the motel keys, a task that fell to her given Bruce's criminal notoriety, often gracing the screens of the nightly news. She had grown accustomed to the peculiar dynamics of their situation, where discretion and anonymity were paramount. With a practiced ease, she stepped out of the car, prepared to negotiate their stay without attracting undue attention. Returning to the car, Elaine held the room keys in one hand, her other hand grasping something intriguing. Despite her nerves stemming from the use of fake names and bad checks, her focus remained tied to him. Bruce's curiosity surged as he noticed not one, but two pairs of handcuffs dangling from her fingers. His eyebrow instinctively raised, wondering how she managed to acquire them. Yet, a glimmer of lust in her eyes urged him to embrace her plan. "They were just sitting on the counter, and when Stan left to get the keys, I thought we could have some fun with them.” "You...stole them? Who leaves handcuffs lying around on a counter?” Elaine laughed playfully. "I wanted to add a little excitement tonight, not enough to trigger your transformation, but enough for you to relax.” Bruce voiced his concern, "If I do transform, those handcuffs won't be able to stop me.” In countless instances, it was Elaine who possessed the power to soothe Bruce during his transformations. Ironically, she was also exceptionally skilled at igniting his desires, often leading to his metamorphosis. She had become his anchor, the one who could rein him back. And tonight, she made it clear that it was his turn to be cared for, whether he stood as Bruce Banner or as the hulking, green beast. "I took these for you, not the hulk,” Elaine said, her voice laced with a mix of anticipation and tenderness. "I want tonight to be about you, Bruce, about us. Trust me, I've thought this through. You will be able to control yourself.” Elaine's intriguing proposition had Bruce's gaze shifting from the handcuffs to her, his face a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Deep down, he trusted her to stop before he hulked out and was genuinely intrigued by what she meant. It had been an incredibly long time since he had experienced any form of intimacy with a woman. Understanding the underlying message, Bruce recognized that this was Elaine's way of demonstrating her ability to embrace both sides of him—an idea she had been trying to convey for quite some time. The offer she presented was undeniably tempting, a tantalizing opportunity to feel desired and truly understood in ways he had never before experienced. With a mixture of nervousness and excitement, Bruce reached out, his fingers lightly grazing the cool metal of the handcuffs. Uncertainty danced in his eyes. Could he trust himself to maintain control, or would the hulk be too strong? Taking a deep breath, he looked into Elaine's eyes, a flicker of vulnerability mingling with a flicker of longing. "Alright," he finally whispered, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. In truth, he was hornier than a toad. It clawed at him, demanding to be sated, overriding any semblance of reason or restraint as if the scientist and rational was fighting the hulk and losing already. The mere thought of ravishing her, of surrendering to the depths of his own desires, sent a surge through his veins. His body burned with a fierce intensity, yearning to unleash its power and passion upon her. He needed to fuck her with an intensity that would teach her just how bad of an idea it was to do this. Too destroy the motel so badly she’d cure him. The longing in his eyes matched the fire that raged within, a tempest of desire that threatened to consume them both. ——————————————————————————————————————— The dimly lit motel room seemed to exude an air of mystery as Bruce found himself handcuffed to the bed. His brows furrowed with uncertainty, his mind swirling with a mix of anticipation and nervousness. Tensing up was normal with sex, and the restraints didn’t make it easier not to - but he was scared about the hulk coming out, he was scared about the hulk cumming in general. He couldn’t hide how excited he was as his underwear tented higher than usual, soaking wet already. Elaine, stood before him, teasing him as she removed her clothes. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Relax, Bruce," she purred, her voice tinged with a tantalizing confidence. "Everything will be fine. Just remember, your only goal is to not break these handcuffs, and if you do, you’re only job is to keep me safe.” Bruce agreed, repeating the promise over and over in his head as he talked himself up - he could do it. She kept reminding him to reenforce it as a goal. Bruce's eyes darted between the handcuffs and Elaine, his heart racing with a cocktail of emotions. It had been months since he last experienced anything remotely close to this kind of excitement. Never before had he ventured into the realm of restraints, and the unfamiliarity sent both shivers of apprehension and thrill down his spine. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I... I don't know how long these will hold me if I transform," Bruce admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. Elaine leaned in, her fingers gently tracing the contours of his chest. "That's the thrill, isn't it? The unknown," she whispered seductively, her breath warm against his ear. “Think about it, if you don’t break them - you keep me safe.” “No, I don’t want to turn.” “Then be that strong man I know you are” As she climbed up on him, her lips brushed against his, he couldn't help but feel a surge of desire. Elaine had a way of awakening desires deep within him that he didn't even know existed. Her touch was electric, her words igniting a fire within his core, she could tell him to do anything. She leaned over him, her hands expertly massaging his chest while peppering his skin with soft, tantalizing kisses. Her whispered words, filled with explicit fantasies, were intended to stoke the fire of passion deep within him. As Elaine's skilled touch heightened his arousal, a primal growl nearly slipped past Bruce's lips, accompanied by a sudden jerk of his body. It was the first telltale sign that the Hulk's emergence was imminent. It was like lightning clearing his mind of everything except how much he wanted to cum right now. In that moment, fear and desire mingled within him, torn between his own apprehension and the desire not to disappoint Elaine - the one person who probably could cure him. Yet, Elaine's soothing voice cut through his anxiety, assuring him that she had faith in her safety. She was right too - he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. It was a delicate balance, fueled by a mixture of fear and determination, as he navigated the line between gratifying his own desires and protecting the woman he loved. Elaine's objective was clear: to push the boundaries of Bruce's self-control and delve into the depths of his dual personas get several serum samples from him after he turned. Yet, beneath her scientific curiosity, a fiery longing blazed within her. The memories of their time in the lab, the blend of fear and desire, ignited an intense craving. She didn’t know who was more wet, her or bruce. She yearned to feel the sheer strength of his muscles, to surrender to the potent allure that both thrilled and unsettled her. The image of steel pipes torn from the ceiling and steel doors shattered effortlessly stirred a fervent passion deep within. She hungered for the presence of that powerful, unstoppable man, fully aware that to awaken him, she needed to entice him into surrendering control. Elaine's tongue traced a tantalizing path along Bruce's sensitive nipples, her movements alternating between teasing nibbles and tender caresses. Each flicker of her touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through his body, eliciting moans and involuntary jerks that betrayed his growing arousal. All of his muscles were so tense, and as she looked up to his. The desires that swirled within him waged a fierce battle against his need for restraint. Bruce's love for Elaine burned deeply, fueling his desire to surrender to the transformation that awaited him. He longed to show her the extent of his strength, to prove how big and powerful he could become with her by his side. Yet, he knew unleashing his alter ego, the Hulk was deadly. The fear of causing harm to the woman he cherished waged a relentless war with his own intense yearning, as he pulled and jerked against the cuffs, the bones in his wrists pressing uncomfortably against the metal, where it didn’t mere moments ago. He was growing - however slowly. As the intensity of the moment heightened, Bruce found himself teetering on the edge of surrender, enjoying the idea of pulling the posters right off the bed frame. The clash between his dwindling reservations and the primal desire awakened by Elaine's touch set the stage for a battle of wills, where the line between control and abandon blurred. With each passing second, the stakes grew higher. In that charged atmosphere, their intimate encounter became a crucible, a testing ground that pushed the boundaries of their desires. Bruce found himself caught in a tumultuous struggle, torn between the irresistible longing to surrender to his primal urges and the weighty responsibility of safeguarding Elaine from the unbridled power that dwelled within him. It was a delicate dance on a tightrope, teetering between the realms of ecstasy and restraint, with an uncertain outcome hanging in the balance. With one misstep, Bruce plummeted from the tightrope, plunging into the unyielding embrace of the Hulk. With each passing second, Bruce's body underwent an awe-inspiring growth, a captivating spectacle that held Elaine in a trance as she continued to kiss and lick his expanding body, now slurping pre-cum dripping cock. His sinewy form contorted and twisted. The air crackled with grunts and groans as his muscles swelled and expanded, fueled by an unstoppable force that surged through his veins. Bruce, lost in the sea of pleasure and transformation, could feel the primal growl rumbling within his chest. The bed beneath him groaned and protested, struggling to bear the weight of his growth spurt. The once cozy queen-sized mattress strained against the sheer magnitude of his presence, unable to hold the extraordinary growth that now consumed him. His feet extending beyond the edge of the be, as his knees bent and toes grazed the floor. What was once a chubby slim physique had now given way to an astonishing display of power and green magnificence. Pounds upon pounds of rippling sinew packed onto his frame, each muscle fiber defined and accentuated with precision. It was as if his entire being had been sculpted by the hands of Lou Ferrigno, an embodiment of strength and art. His arms, slim and unremarkable, now resembled colossal mossy tree trunks, thick and bulging with raw power. Veins snaked across their surface like ancient rivers, pulsating with the life force that coursed through him. As his muscles expanded, they seemed to dance beneath the surface. Shoulders broadened and extended, reaching from side to side of the mattress. The handcuffs that had once restrained him were reduced to twisted metal, shattered remnants of their former existence. Try as he might, the shear size of his arms prevented them from being held in place above his head. They were no match for the immense power that surged through his veins, a power that demanded freedom and release. Elaine was going to witness to his overwhelming might and succumbed to his desires. Each breath he took was infused with a sense of exhilaration and liberation. He could feel the rush of blood through his veins, the pulsating heartbeat that coursed through his now massive dick already excited to get what it’s wanted for a while, as she watched unsure just what to do - Bruce or The Hulk was larger than normal. Undeterred by the awe-inspiring spectacle unfolding before her, Elaine's desire burned brightly, urging her to explore every inch of Bruce's immense form. Her fingers, delicate yet filled with a fervent longing, traced the contours of his burgeoning muscles, caressing the hardened sinew with a reverence reserved for a work of art. She marveled at the sheer scale of his physicality, her touch a graceful dance upon the landscape of his sculpted physique. The musk of sweat that emanated from Bruce's skin only served to heighten Elaine's desire. It mingled with the air, creating an intoxicating scent that fueled her. She surrendered to the raw, masculine aura that enveloped him. Her lips, soft and eager, descended upon his colossal chest, planting kisses upon the chiseled landscape with a fervent passion. Her delicate hands gripping his traps as if they were where she would come up for air. Each touch send pleasureful sensations within him, coursing through his veins. As the hulk grew in strength, its raw power evident in every fiber of Bruce's being, a profound sense of awe mingled with a primal fear. He was still keenly aware of the delicate balance between pleasure and the potential for destruction - and he already wanted to destroy the room. His instincts urged him to unleash his might, to revel in the dominance that now resided within him. But he remained resolute, his desire to protect Elaine outweighing his own primal urges. In the midst of this extraordinary spectacle, the room was transformed into an arena of passion and power. The scent of musk and the symphony of moans filled the air, a testament to the union of human desire and the monstrous strength that coursed through Bruce's veins. In this fusion of muscle and desire, Bruce and Elaine found themselves caught in a dance of supremacy and vulnerability, their love transcending the boundaries of the ordinary. As the hulk's presence loomed large under her, she couldn’t help but enjoy being on top of such a massive man, unable to even dent the rock hard skin. Suddenly, the hulk seized control, his colossal hands firmly gripping Elaine's head, pulling her close to his monstrous visage. Elaine prayed she wouldn’t be crushed and that somewhere inside Bruce was there. The Hulk craved more than just gratification. It wanted to taste every inch of her, it wanted to fuck her. With a single purpose in mind, The Hulk clumsily devoured Elaine's lips in a passionate and ravenous kiss, his massive hand wrapped around her head, holding it in place. Bruces insatiable sexual hunger merged with hulks immense strength, intertwining raw power with intimacy. The taste of his own pre, mingled with the sweetness of her lips, and drove him wild. As the hulk's dominance asserted itself, he effortlessly rolled over, carefully positioning Elaine beneath him on the bed. The stark contrast in size between them heightened the intensity of their encounter, emphasizing his towering, muscular form over her petite frame as he flexed - she couldn’t help but reach up and feel his muscles move under his skin. Noticing the hunger in eyes, she couldn’t help but try to sit up and move her mouth towards his throbbing cock. He needed this, she thought. His brutish face, accentuated by a 5 o’clock shadow on his chin, adding to the intensity of the moment. She had forgotten to breathe. Before Elaine could react, the Hulk's enormous hand gently cradled her face, his touch a contradiction of tenderness and overpowering strength. It was their first intimate encounter with him in his Hulk form, leaving her uncertain about the level of gentleness he could exert with his immense size and power. With one more lingering kiss on her lips, he embarked on a journey southward, his hunger and delicate precision blending as he suckled her breasts, as his finger began to play with her vagina. Driven by a deliberate yet urgent determination, the Hulk set out to pleasure Elaine, to surpass any satisfaction she had ever experienced with Bruce - he had to show that little man what a real man could do. His tongue skillfully danced and teased, rendering her body a helpless vessel for waves of ecstatic pleasure as he focused on her vagina, unleashing a ferocity driven by his passionate instincts, plunges into the depths of her most sensitive area, his tongue becoming an instrument of ecstasy. Firmly but sensitively, he held her in place, fully embracing his insatiable desire to please her and relish her most intimate essence—a desire that harmoniously melded with his formidable strength. Each flick of his tongue, each caress of his lips, surging through her, each movement executed with a primal finesse unique to the Hulk's immense physique. Elaine, gripping the mattress tightly, surrendered to his growls as the Hulk's head delved deeper between her legs, emitting animalistic growls of his own. The Hulk was an animal As he delved further into his voracious feast, Elaine's moans intermingled with the rumbling growls emanating from the Hulk's monstrous form, his hand moving to stroke his own massive green cock. The room filled with an intoxicating symphony of shared ecstasy, as the room shook. Despite reveling in his insatiable desires, the Hulk's primary concern remained Elaine's satisfaction and safety. The duality of his nature—the untamed strength and the tenderness within—manifested in an unwavering determination to elicit cries of pleasure from her, over and over again. In this fusion of the beast and the beloved, pleasure and power entwined, culminating in an intense moment that Elaine resisted but ultimately succumbed to as she reached climax. Hulk came up for air, still stroking himself with a look that had one message - he wasn’t anywhere near done. ——————————————————————————————————————— The Hulk rose to his full, imposing stature, his massive form radiating both anger and pride, casting a shadow over the exhausted woman who had ignited this fiery passion within him. This was her fault, she wanted this and he wasn’t done yet, not even close. With a determination burning in his eyes, it was now his turn to unleash his insatiable desires upon her. Glaring down at her, his bulging muscles rippling with each breath, he repositioned himself over her, his cock pressing against her stomach as he positioned himself on top of her, a reminder of his sheer dominance, careful not to crush her. As he ascended onto her, the Hulk's forceful kiss claimed her lips, his mouth a cavernous expanse, engulfing her with a hunger that knew no bounds. The intensity of his kiss reminding her she couldn’t stop him now, the vibrant green hue of his lips serving as a vivid warning of the untamed power that coursed through his veins. With a commanding presence, the Hulk's throbbing cock pressed against her wet spit covered slit. The sheer size and girth of his member stretching the limits of her anticipation as he push in, each forceful thrust generating a symphony of pleasure that reverberated through her being. The pulsating veins that snaked across his massive length throbbed with every movement. Banging the bed against the wall with such for the drywall was cracking - and he was just getting started. As the Hulk's relentless thrusts continued, their bodies became locked in a primal dance of passion, propelling her towards multiple climaxes. His abs flexed with every motion, a sculpted landscape of power and desire. His glutes clenched with each powerful thrust, driving him deeper into her, intensifying the pleasure they shared. The room filled with her moans and his beastly grunts, a cacophony escaping his lips as his climax approached. The overwhelming force with which the Hulk plunged into her sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her every nerve ending, shattering any lingering remnants of restraint and unleashing a torrent of pleasure that cascaded through her core as she gripped the sheet stronger than he ever could. His mighty body quaked above her, the weight of his power evident in every ripple of muscle and every grunt that escaped his lips. With one final, earth-shattering thrust, the Hulk unleashed a guttural roar that echoed through the room, a primal declaration of his release. Like a powerful tidal wave crashing upon the shore, his climax surged through him, overpowering his senses with its intensity. He couldn’t resist taking both his fists and smashing them into the mattress on both sides of her head. The sheer magnitude of his liquid release was awe-inspiring - and would be for Bruce. As he emptied himself into her, the room quaked beneath the weight of his passion. A torrent of his cum surged forth, a deluge that overflowed Elaines slit as he pulled out. It cascaded with unyielding power, filling the depths of their connection and leaving no doubt as to the sheer potency of his desire. Each pulse of his release coated her entire stomach as he trembled over her trying not to collapse. The room was filled with the heady scent of their union, a potent mixture of desire and fulfillment that hung in the air. In the aftermath of their union, their bodies entwined, a profound sense of satisfaction and connection enveloped them. The Hulk, still towering over Elaine, was a vision of raw power and dominance. He had unleashed the full extent of his physical prowess upon her, leaving no doubt as to the overwhelming strength that coursed through his veins. As the intense surge of passion and pleasure began to subside, the hulk's massive frame yearned to collapse on the bed. Gradually he heaved himself over her, stumbling to the floor, the hulk's monumental form beginning to diminish in size, a metamorphosis that unfolded before Elaine's eyes. The raw power that had pulsed through his muscles now waned, as his physique shrunk. The bulging muscles deflating as if releasing the tension they had held. The once formidable biceps and triceps diminished in size, gradually revealing a more compact and toned physique. As the transformation continued, his chest, once a robust and solid wall of muscle, gradually receded, becoming less defined and sculpted. The hulk's legs, once pillars of strength, slimed up. His colossal feet, which had seemingly dwarfed everything in their path, now appeared more proportionate as they slowly shrank to a more manageable size. With each passing moment, the hulk's remarkable transformation to become Bruce continued, his monumental stature gradually giving way to a more human-sized frame, and his color became more white, and the fat proudly adorned his body returning. Elaine, exhausted from the overwhelmingly passionate encounter, remained safely nestled on the bed, her body both sated and spent. The intense connection she had shared with the hulk now lingering as a creamy glaze now pooling around her waist - still warm. “Holy shit,” She sighed with a gentle smile on her face, embracing the stillness of the moment, basking in the euphoria of their shared experience. As the Bruce settled on the floor, his reduced form now entirely human proportions, he exhaled a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry," Bruce muttered, his voice laced with remorse, as he lay naked on the floor, catching his breath. The transformation had subsided, leaving him in a state of vulnerability and self-reflection. Elaine, still catching her breath from their intense encounter, reassured him with a breathless response. "You were… amazing. I mean, holy shit, you were incredible," she gasped, her voice filled with awe and lingering pleasure. "I've never experienced anything like that before, so many times… I came so many time… ” Bruce looked under the bed trying to catch his breath, where remnants of crushed wood lay scattered. The bed frame was no more. Examining the splintered fragments, Bruce couldn't help but contemplate the sheer weight he had carried, estimating it to be in the range of 4 or 500 pounds during his transformation. The knowledge that he had exerted such force, even inadvertently, weighed heavily on his conscience. Silence hung in the air as Bruce grappled with the conflicting emotions coursing through him. "Bruce, don't be so hard on yourself," she whispered softly, her eyes filled with understanding. "Yes, your the hulk, but it's a part of you. We'll learn together how to navigate this part of us, how to channel it in ways that bring us joy without causing harm.” Her words resonated deeply within him, offering a glimmer of solace amidst his self-doubt. The assurance that he was not alone in this journey provided a sense of comfort and relief. Bruce nodded, his expression softened by her compassion and unwavering support, as he pulled himself off the floor. Bruce gingerly picked up the tattered remains of his underwear, his eyes scanning the room for any other rewards of their passionate encounter - he didn’t remember taking them off. The broken bed frame. The shattered handcuffs. He cleared his throat, his voice slightly hoarse as he spoke, "We should probably get cleaned up.” Elaine, her gaze fixated on her own naked form glistening with his essence, nodded in agreement. "I'd like that," she replied, her voice carrying a mix of satisfaction and longing. With a gentle hand, Bruce helped Elaine rise from the warm pool of cum she had been lying in, his touch tender and caring. They moved together towards the shower. Bruce turned the faucet, setting the water to its hottest setting, filling the bathroom with a cloud of steam. As the steam began to swirl around them, Elaine couldn't help but notice the careful way Bruce looked at her, as if searching for any signs of discomfort or marks left behind. Her voice softened as she broke the silence, her words carrying a mix of reassurance and admiration. "You didn't hurt me, you know," she said, her eyes meeting his, filled with trust and affection. Bruce was momentarily taken aback, his mind racing to find the right words to express his thoughts. The steam continued to rise, creating a veil of intimacy between them. He finally found his voice, his words laced with vulnerability. "I... I'm glad," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper, as he turned the heat down to something they could enjoy as they climbed in. Elaine stepped closer, her hand reaching out to caress his cheek, her touch comforting and gentle. "You were better than any of our previous times," she murmured, her eyes locked with his, "and it's about time you were able to let go a little bit.” Bruce's eyes softened, the weight of his past struggles momentarily lightening as he absorbed Elaine's words. The steam swirling around them created a cocoon of intimacy, shielding them from the outside world as they stood together beneath the cascading water. In that vulnerable moment, he leaned in, his forehead gently resting against hers, their breaths intermingling amidst the rising steam. "I... I love you, Elaine," Bruce confessed, his voice brimming with sincerity and raw emotion. His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his inner turmoil. "But I don't want to be this hulk. I don't. And I don't want you to expect that level of... performance…from me. The hulk isn't me.” Elaine's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, a mix of understanding and unwavering love shining in her gaze, it was part of both of them and changing the words didn’t matter. A radiant smile curved her lips as she tightened her embrace around him, their bodies coming together in the warm embrace of the shower. "I love 'you', Bruce," she whispered, her voice laced with tenderness and unwavering devotion. In that moment, under the soothing rush of water and the sheltering steam, Bruce felt a profound sense of acceptance and understanding. Elaine's love wrapped around him like a lifeline, grounding him amidst the turbulent currents of his own identity. And in her embrace, he found solace, knowing that their love transcended the challenges they faced, and that together, they could navigate the complexities of their relationship with unwavering support and unconditional devotion. ——————————————————————————————————————— Their blissful shower abruptly shattered as the tranquility of the moment was torn apart by a violent intrusion. In the dead of night, the piercing sound of a man's voice shouting "police" reverberated through the room, sending shockwaves of fear and confusion coursing through Elaine and Bruce's veins. Bruce knew they had finally been caught - it didn’t matter how far they would run. Their hearts pounded in their chests as the bathroom door swung open, revealing two figures dressed in police uniforms, their weapons brandished with a menacing authority. "Get down on the ground, now!" one of the officers barked, his voice filled with a vulgar aggression that cut through the air like a knife. One threw bruce to the ground, dragging him into the main room. Bruce's muscles tensed, a mix of fear and adrenaline flooding his system. He complied, dropping to his knees with a sense of helplessness and vulnerability, as one officer threw him to the floor. The cold tile floor pressed against his bare skin, a stark contrast to the warmth and safety he had just experienced in the embrace of the steamy shower. Elaine's scream pierced the air, a cry of terror and disbelief as the officers invaded their sacred moment. Her nakedness, once a symbol of their intimate connection, now became a vulnerability that was callously exploited by men who thought they were the ones in control of the situation. With a reckless force, they handled her, their grip unyielding and violent, treating her with a brutality that ignited a furious rage within Bruce. As Elaine was thrown to the floor, her body colliding with the unforgiving surface, Bruce's protective instincts surged to the forefront. The hulk, dormant within him, stirred with a ferocious intensity, the desire to defend and shield his love overpowering his thoughts. Every fiber of his being screamed for action, for retribution against the injustice inflicted upon them. As the cold, metal cuffs were secured around Bruce's wrists for a second time that night, a sinister smile tugged at the corners of his lips. With a surge of raw power, the transformation began, an incredible metamorphosis that unleashed an unstoppable force upon the unsuspecting police officers, his officer quickly fired into his shoulder. Bruce's body convulsed, his muscles bulging and expanding with incredible speed quickly healing from the gunshot. The cuffs strained against the sheer magnitude of his growing mass, threatening to snap under the immense pressure. Inch by inch, he towered over the officers, surpassing their height as if defying the laws of physics. The once meek and submissive figure of Bruce had given way to a colossal entity, a towering symbol of untamed strength. The hulk, now standing before them, radiated an aura of aggression and dominance, briefly flexing, his pecs trembling as he grew. His green skin pulsed with veins that seemed to carry the essence of his sheer power. The officers, who had previously felt a sense of authority and control, now found themselves dwarfed by this monstrous embodiment of fury. With a bone-rattling roar that shook the very foundations of the room, the hulk lunged forward, his massive green fists crashing into the officers with unfathomable strength. The impact was cataclysmic, the sound of bones shattering and flesh yielding filling the air. Driven by an insatiable hunger for dominance, the hulk unleashed a torrent of devastating blows upon the officers The first officer, caught off guard by the hulk's lightning-fast attack, was sent hurtling through the air, his body slamming into a wall with a sickening thud. The second officer, paralyzed with fear, watched in horror as his partner flew through the wall. Before he could even think of a course of action, the hulk closed the distance between them in a blur of emerald fury. Grasping the second officer by the collar, the hulk effortlessly hoisted him into the air, the officer's legs dangling helplessly. The officer's eyes widened in terror as he stared into the hulk's rage-filled eyes, the green veins pulsating with power. The officer was speechless. With an animalistic roar, the hulk swung one officer like a ragdoll, his body becoming a projectile of destruction. The officer crashed through the their room like a human missile, obliterating everything in his path, collapsing on the bed of the room next door. Both men, very lucky to be alive as the hulk realized how much he craved the destruction, as he fought anything in his grasps. Each strike was a display of raw strength, sending shockwaves through the room and leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. The air crackled with the energy of his relentless assault, the force of his blows creating mini-explosions of debris. His veins bulged with pulsating energy, each surge of adrenaline fueling his insatiable desire for dominance. He flexed his colossal muscles, veins snaking across his green-skinned physique like radiation filled streams. The building seemed to tremble in awe of the hulk's sheer presence, the very walls struggling to contain the force that emanated from his monstrous form. Amidst the chaos, the hulk's grunts and growls filled the room, a symphony of primal aggression. His roar reverberated through the wreckage, a primal declaration of his unbridled power. It was a dance of destruction, a display of dominance that sent shockwaves through the hulk's being, reminding him of the limitless strength that surged within him. He loved it, and as he looked down he could help but smile at his massive tool, craving more than what Elaine could offer. The hulk paused amidst the wreckage, a towering figure radiating both triumph and an insatiable hunger for more. The officers, broken and bloodied, lay scattered like discarded playthings. The hulk's exhilaration remained palpable, an unstoppable force of nature basking in the aftermath of his unleashed power. With a deafening bellow that reverberated through the air, the hulk surged forward, a mountain of raw strength and power. His sinewy muscles bulged and rippled with every movement, their sheer mass demonstrating his formidable might. From his broad chest, down his colossal arms, and all the way to his tree trunk-like legs, his naked body demanding attention as he plowed his way out of the room and into the parking lot. In a display of unfathomable strength, the hulk's massive hands closed around the police car parked outside, his fingers effortlessly gripping the solid metal chassis. The creaking and groaning metal filled the air as the vehicle strained against the hulk's grip, unable to withstand the colossal power that coiled within his veins. With a mighty heave, the hulk propelled the car forward, unleashing it like a projectile hurtling through the air. The metallic beast soared with uncanny accuracy, its trajectory guided by the hulk’s towards the other rooms. The impact upon landing would be cataclysmic, as the car became a weapon in the hulk's hands, demolishing anything unfortunate enough to stand in its path. The car crashed through the wall of the adjacent rooms, unleashing a violent explosion of splintered wood, shattered glass, fire, and crumbling brick. Debris rained down like a torrential storm, as the neighboring rooms were instantly transformed into a scene of utter chaos. The force of impact reverberated through the entire building, sending tremors of destruction cascading through its very foundation. Inside the motel rooms, the hulk's rampage continued from one room to the next. Walls crumbled under the relentless onslaught, furniture was reduced to splinters, and personal belongings were pulverized into oblivion. The air became thick with a haze of dust and debris, obscuring the hulk's monstrous figure amidst the wreckage. He was simply having fun at this point. Through it all, the hulk's focus remained resolute. He avoided the area where Elaine was, his only concern ensuring her safety after breaking the cuffs a second time tonight amidst the onslaught of his unbridled fury. It was as if a sliver of his humanity still lingered, a thread of consciousness that shielded her from his wrath, it protected nothing else. With every destructive second fueled by the sheer pleasure of obliterating anything in his path. He tore through everything, his mighty fists reducing them to rubble. Glass shattered like fragile crystal at his touch, and the sound of splintering wood echoed like an ominous warning. Amidst the chaos, the hulk's roars reverberated through the building, a primal symphony of dominance that shook the very core of anyone who heard it. His monstrous form stood amidst the wreckage. His muscles bulged and veins pulsed with an otherworldly energy. As the hulk surveyed the wreckage, his eyes caught sight of Elaine standing across the parking lot, wrapped in a towel and clearly disheveled. In that moment, a pang of remorse pierced through his powerful exterior. The woman he loved had been caught in the crossfire of his uncontrollable rage, realizing that was enough to calm him down. Water from burst pipes were spraying into the air, pattering his muscles and cleaning him at the same time. The hulk couldn't help but feel a mix of exhilaration and guilt, knowing the destruction he had caused was witnessed by the woman he loved yet again. He had torn through walls, shattered objects, and reduced the police car to a mere heap of twisted metal. His unstoppable ire had left a lasting mark on everything in his path, and it needed to be cured. Deep down, he longed for control, for the ability to protect those he cared about rather than subject them to more danger. The woman he loved deserved more than the collateral damage he had caused and would continue. Elaine, however, stood amidst the wreckage, her gaze locked onto the dark green puddle of blood that had spilled onto the ground—an elusive sample that appeared almost impossible to obtain without a transformation. Safely stored in her purse were several vials, the closest means of preserving the cum and blood she had managed to collect. It was a precious miracle, offering a fleeting glimpse into the genetic makeup of the hulk—a treasure she knew would be nearly impossible to acquire again. Unbeknownst to Bruce, Elaine had a whole different plan up her sleeve. She had pulled the wool over the police's eyes, making them believe she was an unwilling accomplice ready to betray him, and she had duped Bruce into thinking she would use the serum samples to cure him. But in reality, her true intentions were far better. Deep down, she craved the power of the hulk for herself, and she guarded that secret closely, her heart throbbing with anticipation. As the vial of dark green blood sparkled in her grasp, Elaine's gaze darted between the precious liquid and Bruce, who stood clueless, unaware of the betrayal that loomed over him. A pang of guilt tugged at her conscience, yet her longing for power eclipsed any remorse. The allure of becoming a hulk, of tasting the untamed might and the freedom it promised, was simply too enticing to resist. Besides, she figured if the military wanted blood - her tampons would do. A mix of excitement and nerves coursed through Elaine as she prepared herself for the transformative journey that lay ahead. Thoughts raced through her mind, considering the nearest lab and the logistics involved. She knew that her decision would shatter Bruce's hopes and undermine the trust he had placed in her, but it also meant he could finally embrace his true self without the weight of a cure holding him back. With meticulous care, Elaine sealed the vials, fully aware of the gravity of her choices. She was about to take on the hulk, severing the chains that bound her to victimhood and the burden of finding a cure. Her actions were fueled by self-serving ambition, a hunger for power that threatened to consume her from within.
  15. Chronicler

    King Dom: The Beginning

    "Come on, Sam! One more! One more!! Give me one good push!!!" You squeezed and mustered every effort into performing that bench press, the last rep for the day. Your body spasms from the strain as the bar inches further and further away from you. It's so close but ending well has always been a struggle. As the bar finally reaches its zenith, your arms give out. The bar tumbles toward you … only to be caught and placed back on the stand by the steadying hands of Dom. "I got you, bro!" Adrenalized relief floods you. You can always count on Dom to be there for you: encouraging you, supporting you, saving your sorry ass from all the shit you both find yourselves in. (Though more often than not, he's the one who gets you all into shit.) "Great job, Sam!" Dom exclaims, offering you your customary congratulatory fist bump. You grin proudly. The weights you lift may be counted as the lightest among your school gym goers, but Dom has a way of making you feel unashamed. "Come on, let's head home." Exiting the gym, you encountered Dickheads 1 & 2. These jocks may not be the biggest in the university, but they're certainly the douchiest. Though they're on the swim team, they pack more weight and muscle on their frame than they should, which exasperates their swim coach. Rumour has it they're only on the team to show off their bodies, which is only supported by their constant flaunting at any opportunity. Their nicknames are supposedly derived from one infamous episode of public indecency that ended with violence in the locker room. The only reason they weren't expelled was because of their family's 'scholarship'. Rumour also has it that those 2 bigoted roommates are actually a heavily repressed couple. When you spot one of them, the other is sure to be not far off. The constant jibes they give to the gay community and the reported lack of satisfaction from their many girlfriends reinforce this. Regardless of your qualms against them, which everybody in school has, you have learned one too many lessons too well on keeping your head low around them, hoping they'll only dish the hurt out verbally. Dom, however, has not learned his lessons well enough yet. A shoulder bump leaves Dom sprawled on the floor. You scurry to help him up while remarks are hurled about you two 'limpdicked lovebird losers'. Just as Dom is about to retort with one of his famous explosive tirades, you summon a hidden reserve of strength from your fight-or-flight response and hauled Dom up and out past the Dickheads. "Yeah, let your ladyboy pick your fights for you, you little faggot! Haha!" Dom keeps quiet, his face darkening to a furious red. - "Fuck!" Dom screams out in the sanctity of your shared bedroom, punching the wall. Ever since young, you shared most of your life with Dom. Childhood friends living just down the road from each other. Secondary schoolmates patching each other up after surviving bullying sessions. A mutual coming-out episode and confession to each other just before university. (Dom, as always, initiated first.) A period of fooling around commences before Dom decided he wasn't ready for a relationship yet: he doesn't feel big enough. Dom prides himself as a guy who provides, protects and takes charge of people. Strength and size have therefore been a point of contention for him, especially with the readings and put-me-downs. He has stood up to bullies despite the disparity in their physiques. Facing bullies equipped with only bravery wasn't enough to win fights all the time, however. Some of them, as with the Dickheads, dare to lash out in fisticuffs. Thus, he began to work out and train, inviting you as he brutalizes himself in the school gym. You had been at it for a few months now. You managed to carve out some clear-cut definitions in your chest and abs, your arms producing a sizable lump. Dom took more from the gym than you, approaching it with his trademark intensity. His dedication and drive have resulted in a heftier chest, an undeniable 6-pack, and biceps with observable movement as he flexes them back and forth. Still, it wasn't enough, as both of you share the plague of skinny genetics too, being slightly smaller than the average guy on campus… - "Fuck!!" Dom punches the wall again, this time hard enough for blood to trickle down his knuckles. You cry out to him to stop, preparing all too readily a plaster. "I'm just so tired, Sam. All these bullies, these two fucking Dickheads. Fucking around with us, just because we're smaller. I wanna be big enough to give them a taste of their medicine." Dom pounds his injured fist into his hand. "I don't wanna feel small again, you know. I wanna be big. I wanna feel big, just once in my life." He slumps onto the sofa, all worn out. "You know, Dom, you're pretty big to me," you confess, as you plaster his fist. To your diminutive form, Dom's skinny muscles definitely are. "Haha, yeah?" he smiles in wry appreciation. "Thanks, Sam." Your praise, however, leaves Dom sinking deeper in dejection. You decide to change tactics: if words aren't good enough, now it's time to take action. "Hey Dom, why don't you flex your muscles for me, please?" You pleaded with your best puppy dog eyes, pouting your lips in a way you know he couldn't deny. "What's gotten into you?" Dom chuckles lightly as you continue to pepper him with your request. Finally, he complies, proffering you one of his arms, the one with that injured fist. Tenderly bringing that fist up to your face, you kiss it. "You have always taken care of me ever since we were little, Dom. Now you have grown so much. Let me show you how big you've gotten." You winked. Despite all his bluster and bravado, Dom blushed. One of those rare times you ever witnessed his shy side. You nuzzle his calloused hand, slipping in quick caring pecks. "All those weights you lifted, those push-ups and pull-ups you did… I'm sure you will maul anyone who dares stand in your way with these mighty paws." Dom 'hmmm'-ed out softly in approval. You slide your face down to his arm, bringing up a hand to massage his other bicep. Dom catches on, flexing out a double bicep. "And these arms, when you flex them, they will crack open and crush all sorts of things. Peanuts. Walnuts. Coconuts." Each invocation of nuts is followed by an increased intensity of squeezing from you. Dom squeezes his biceps back to meet your challenge, stiffening both of his arms, along with his third "arm". "And finally," you whisper temptingly into his ear. "The skulls of those 2 fucking Dickheads." At this, Dom lets out a primal roar. You jump back a little, your hands letting go of those orbs. You've never known that flexing could produce such strain and size. Those peaks have become so pumped that they are now volcanic, ready to erupt from their furious red. "More…" Dom calls out. "More!" You took another step back. Perhaps you went too far in including your grotesque descriptions of power. Seeing your panicked expression, Dom calms down, the crimson hues fading, but not leaving. He gives you a look that's a curious mix of pleading and demanding. "Please, Sam… Please continue." Hesitation grips you like a deer in headlights. Fear tells you to take off and run. Yet lustful curiosity invites you to step forward and explore this side of Dom you've never seen before. In the end, your dick leads you forward. Dom smiles, almost assuredly, at your approach. He takes off his singlet, puffs out and pounds at his chest, indicating where he wants you to continue clearly. His torso looks prepped to receive you already: the pump in his arms seems to have spread across his body, and his pecs look fuller already. You take hold of Dom’s chest and massage them, circling your thumbs around his nipples. Softly, gently. Dom moans for more. Intensifying your efforts, you knead harder. Those meat cakes, in response, rise and take form, becoming less and less pliable. "You're an immovable wall. If anyone bumps into your chest, they'll just fall flat on the floor. Should those two Dickheads ever try to tackle you, they'll only end up with concussions." "Yeah," Dom growls out. "That's it, Sam! Lick it. Suck on it, bite it! Be a good bitch and break your teeth against it!" He grabs the back of your neck, his vice-like grip plunging your mouth onto one of his plump nipples. Your muffles are buried in that hefty chest. Blindly, you push both hands against Dom, even kicking against the wall behind him, desperate for space, for air. Dom's hand continues holding you in place, never registering your struggles. His hold only tightens and squashes you in further. "I say do it!" Out of desperation, perhaps submission, you chomp down hard. His flesh didn't give way. You grit harder, your jaws straining, and your cheeks start aching. You feel dizzy. Just as you're about to pass out from the effort and the lack of oxygen, you're mercifully shoved onto the floor. You splutter, drool slobbering down your chin as you inhale vigorously for relief. You see stars… … And as they clear, there stands Dom, a man straight out of legends and myths. You blink rapidly. There's no way a pump could produce the size he's at now. The pair of comfortable and billowy shorts Dom once wore now runs so thin and tight that you could make out the thick veins throbbing underneath. His mildly defined mid-section has sharpened into a wasp-like display of lethality, that core now supporting arms and chest rivalling the Dickheads' size. You are sure, however, that theirs pale in strength and power compared to Dom's. As you lift your head up, you gaze upon Dom's face. It had evolved from a brave, caring and (though Dom disliked it) cute look into a confident, regal, and handsomely dangerous portrait. Dangerous. That's what every part of his still inflamed body exudes. Danger. You shake. You shudder. You hyperventilate. You became flushed with heat, from your head to your groin. It becomes so hot that you can't breathe. You realize you're gonna end up fucked or fucked up. Maybe both. You don't know what to think, what to say, or what to do as Dom approaches you, his expression blurred by the rapid darting of your eyes. Three steps. Two. One. Just as his shadow looms over you, you pass out.
  16. 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…
  17. mmvmgo2011


    Hi all Long time lurker. I thought I'd start a story that's been mulling around in my head for a while now. I'm still not sure where it's ultimately headed - though I'm hoping it won't go where you think it might. I have some ideas for the direction - but nothing concrete. There could be anything - so fair warning - if you're easily offended, or grossed out, or whatever, this may not be the thread for you. I'm planning on keeping each chapter fairly short, but hoping to post updates more often. It's my first ever story - so be kind, or not ... EDIT: I've purposefully not given our main protagonist a name, but will use uppercase HE/HIM/HIS to refer to HIM. I'm gradually editing each entry to fix this after the fact. Apologies if it's hard to follow. ******* CHAPTER ONE It was over. Well, IT wasn’t over, but the race to find a vaccine against the SARS-CoV-2 virus, the virus that caused COVID-19, was done. The company where HE worked had lost the race. There were five or six vaccine candidates approved worldwide, some mRNA based, some more traditional. HIS company had spent billions of dollars, and would never recoup those R&D losses releasing vaccine number six or seven, even if it was more effective. If only it was even slightly effective. The project was shelved and, indeed, the existence of the company itself was now under threat. Word had come down from on high that afternoon; a Thursday. The staff were shocked, but not particularly surprised. Everyone expected the axe to fall at some point — many surprised it took as long as it did. It was always a radical and ambitious plan. A plan that would pay massive dividends if it paid off - not only in immediate sales of vaccine, but in lucrative patents that would forever change vaccine development and progress medical science as we’d known it. As the old saying goes, if it’s too good to be true… A vaccine that reprogrammed the patient’s DNA so that the patient’s own immune system would produce the cells and antibodies necessary to fight the virus would not only prevent COVID-19 disease, it would also prevent transmission of the virus causing the disease, ending the pandemic once and for all. But that was small fry compared to future developments. No more influenza, common cold, herpes, HIV, Hepatitis… any infection known to man — virus, bacteria, fungi — would be cured. And even the big C, cancer. Well, it WAS ambitious. But it was not to be. Though the theory seemed sound, putting the theory into practice proved… challenging. Hundreds of billions of dollars were spent trying to make it work and, though there was some promising early results in vitro, every single tested animal had resulted in horribly disfigured or dead animals. Not exactly ready for initial human trials, let alone approval for final manufacture and sale. The bean counters and lawyers were still crunching the numbers and considering the options, but it seemed that so little progress had been made converting theory into practice that everything relating to the project, from samples to formulas, from notes to equipment, from methods to specialised equipment — everything — was effectively worthless.
  18. tegalus

    Mind and Matter

    Commissioned from Just Buckingham on FurAffinity https://www.furaffinity.net/user/justbuckingham/ “Move it!” Kyle chuckled as he pushed past the group in front of him, bulldozing through the smaller students and laughing at how they bounced off to the sides. Size had its advantages, and Kyle was the recipient of many of them - at 6’2 the red dragon may not have been the tallest in the school, but he made up for it in bulk. His body was thick with muscle, and his attitude was just as aggressive as his physique. Most of the nerds had learnt by now to stay out of his way, but there were always a few that hadn’t gotten the message - often some mocking or even a wedgie or two helped to get the point across. This was his school, and he was in charge. He was currently making his way down to the science labs, partially because his next class was there, but mostly because his recent reports had been terrible and the principal had made it clear in no uncertain terms that if he missed more classes he would be kicked out. Reluctantly he’d listened, but that didn’t mean he was going to pay too much attention. “- ten times as intelligent as projec - “ Kyle stopped as something caught his ear. This corridor was mostly filled with empty labs, but sometimes some of the higher-achieving students asked for special permissions to use them for side projects, meaning occasionally they would be full of nerds doing their own work. Kyle figured it was nothing but the snippet he’d heard had piqued his interest, and now the idea was growing in his head. Midterm tests were coming up soon, and if he didn’t pass them he was toast. In the past he’d bullied other students for answers, but this time around he was being sat on his own, meaning there was no way out. Maybe there was something in this lab that could help. “Well, what do we have here?” Kyle chuckled as he burst into the lab, where a couple of wolves were busy at one of the benches mixing something that smelled utterly foul. They had commandeered one of the whiteboards and covered it in incredibly complex equations, ones that Kyle couldn’t make any sense of but definitely looked impressive. “Couple of nerds not sharing their stuff huh?” “Hey, you can’t - “ One of the wolves barely finished his sentence before Kyle turned on him. He walked forward, looming over the wolf as he backed up into the corner, not saying anything but just walking. Only when the poor wolf was cowering in the corner did he lean forward, hands in his pockets. “What was that?” His voice was calm, at odds with his demeanour, and the wolf was too afraid to say anything. “Yeah, thought so. Next time you wanna tell me I can’t do something, remember that you ain’t the boss of me. Other way around, little guy.” He smiled and backed off, turning to the other wolf. “Well, you gonna spill the beans or what?” The second wolf looked scared, but somehow he kept his mouth shut. Instead he just stood there, quivering as he looked up at Kyle, hoping the dragon would be merciful. “Y-you wouldn’t understand.” “Oh? Well let’s make this simple then.” Kyle cracked his knuckles, the sound like gunfire. “You’ve got 1 minute to get me to understand it, and if you fail then I’m gonna hang you from the door and leave you there.” He crossed his arms, and that only served to make the second wolf panic more as he tried to look for a way out. Kyle was standing in front of the door, and he had no way of overpowering the dragon. There was no other choice. “It’s a drink that makes you smarter.” The wolf hung his head as he said it, knowing what was coming next. “See, that wasn’t hard was it?” Kyle grinned as he looked around the lab. “Well, where is it?” “O-over there.” The wolf gestured at the bench, where there were a couple of vials of violently purple liquid. It was so bright it seemed to glow. “That’s the only sample we have though, the protein sequences are incredibly complicated and - “ Kyle held up a clawed hand. “Don’t need the nerd shit buddy, just gimme the shit.” He crossed his arms as the wolf went across the room and picked up the test tube, delicately holding it between two fingers. “It’s volatile, you can’t - “ He went pale as Kyle looked down at him with one eyebrow raised. “I - I - I mean, please try not to…uh….shake it. Too much motion and it’ll explode.” Kyle’s glare was like a laser, focusing in on him and making it difficult to form words, putting him quite literally under the spotlight. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.” Kyle swiped the tube, holding it up to the light. “So what, I drink this shit and it makes me smarter?” “More or less, but we don’t know the side effects, it hasn’t been - “ The wolf was cut off as Kyle downed the whole tube, crushing the glass when he was done and letting it drop to the floor. “...tested….” The wolf for once looked worried. It was one thing to lose an experiment, it was another entirely to kill someone with a bad batch. What scared him even more was the possibility that it wasn’t a bad batch, that it was working exactly as intended. He had no idea how much smarter it would make someone, nor what it would do to someone who had no intentions of using any kind of power for good. It was quite possible he’d just unleashed a monster onto the school. “See, wasn’t so hard was it? Later nerds!” With a grin and a sarcastic wave, Kyle walked out the lab. * “The fuck is this?” Kyle slammed the poor wolf against the wall, one hand on his chest pushing him backwards, the other hand brandishing a paper with a bunch of complicated equations on it. “I told you to answer the damn questions, or did it not get through that thick skull?” He tapped the wolf on the head a couple of times for emphasis, to which he only trembled harder. “I - I did answer - I - “ “You got them wrong! Look, this is supposed to be to the power of 3, not 2, and this whole division over here is fucking pathetic!” He grabbed the wolf by the neck and slowly lifted him up into the air. “I’m gonna make this crystal fucking clear, so even a loser like you can understand it. You get one more chance. You mess this up again, and I’m going to pull you apart limb from fucking limb. Understood?” The wolf just nodded, too terrified to even speak. “Good, now get the fuck outta my sight.” He dropped the wolf on the floor, chuckling as he scrambled to his feet and ran out of the room. The upcoming test was not a particularly difficult one, but he saw no reason to do the work when he could get others to do it for him. He’d been doubtful about the serum when he drank it - a potion of intelligence sounded like something out of a video game after all, not something you stole from a couple of nerds with some spare chemicals. But in the few days since he’d noticed that the test questions that had once been incomprehensible were now surprisingly easy. Most he could do in his head at a single glance, and in fact he was pretty sure he didn’t even need any help with the upcoming test now. There was however a physical change. At first it had manifested as a simple pressure, the kind you got from a migraine where it feels like something is pushing against the inside of your forehead. Except in this case apparently that something was his brain, and rather than squash the new grey matter in the same space his body had adapted slightly. His head was just a little bit bigger than before, not enough to be freakish but definitely enough to be noticeable. When he thought particularly hard veins would rise to the surface, throbbing just under the scales before fading again. He wasn’t too fond of how it looked, but if the reward was all this intelligence then he wasn’t complaining. He still wasn’t going to classes, but every now and then he’d show up to a couple just for the purpose of messing about. He enjoyed how demoralised a lot of the teachers looked when they would single him out for questions and he’d answer them without even looking up from his phone, every answer perfectly correct and instantaneous. They hadn’t really figured out what was up yet, which suited him fine, but they were already taking precautions for the upcoming test. Fine with him - he had bigger plans in mind. * As expected, the test was conducted in the closest thing the school had to an isolation box, a single desk with two invigilators watching him at all times, and to the surprise of everyone except Kyle himself he aced the test. He didn’t just ace it, he finished the whole thing within 5 minutes, threw the paper on the desk and left whilst yawning. The invigilators assumed he’d just not known anything and given up, so they were shocked to see every answer correct. Kyle meanwhile was going back to the nerds he’d stolen the original serum off, looking to obtain more of it. He grinned as he walked down to the labs - he’d hacked the school scheduling system so that he could find out where they would be, and sure enough they were working away in one of the labs. He kicked open the door, relishing the way their faces fell when they saw who it was. “Hey bitches, hope you haven’t been messing around these past few days. I’m gonna need some more of that serum.” “I - we can’t.” The wolf was adamant this time, playing on emotions that he thought Kyle would possess now - empathy, kindness, perhaps even mercy. The trouble was knowledge didn’t always come with benevolent intent, and in Kyle’s case it merely enabled greater savagery. He’d always had the physical advantage but now he had the mental one, and that didn’t just mean useless science facts. Just one example would be how he looked directly at them, stood straight and leaned back a little, altered his posture for maximum intimidation. “Oh, you can’t? Why not?” Kyle just grinned as the wolf stammered, his speech sounding even more incoherent as Kyle grabbed the front of his jacket and picked him up off the ground. “We….we don’t have any more of it, you took the last.” “Oh don’t worry about that, I can make my own. Just give me the formula and I’ll be on my way.” The wolf knew he was fucked upon hearing that - there was no way to trick the dragon, not any more. The one advantage he might have had was nonexistent, but still he remained defiant. He just dangled, refusing to talk. “Not very cooperative, are we? Well I have an idea for how to fix that.” Still carrying the poor wolf he walked over to the window, pulled it open, and hauled the wolf outside. He held him aloft out the window, grinning at the yelps of fear coming from the end of his arm. “You’re crazy, you’ll kill me!” “10 foot drop, grass at the bottom. You’re a wimp so you ain’t gonna stick the landing, so I’d say broken tibia or fibula. Nasty break as well, definitely not a clean fracture, you’re looking at at least a couple months of recovery. “No! You can’t!” “Ah shoot, I need a pen. Gonna have to write this down for the school doc, he’s enthusiastic but not very good. Hey with a bit of luck the limp might go away eventually. I wouldn’t trust him, but that’s not my choice.” “Alright! ALRIGHT! There’s a paper stuck to the bottom of the desk, everything is on there. Just please put me down.” There was a moment where Kyle just held him, just letting the fear build, letting the possibility of being dropped linger in the wolf’s mind, juuuust long enough for the fear to set in. Then with a lurch he was pulled back inside and dropped to the floor, Kyle leaving him there to go look under the desks. Sure enough taped to the bottom was a sheet of paper with a whole bunch of calculations written on it. To anyone else it would be incomprehensible, but to Kyle it was like gold dust. Better still, looking around he could see everything he’d need to synthesise it right here. He quickly began gathering up chemicals, locking the door to the lab to make sure nobody would come in and quickly mixing everything together. It needed to be heated to a certain point, and though the lab didn’t have a thermometer he did some quick calculations and found a small blowtorch that would let him get close enough to the right temperature, and after a few minutes of carefully heating his solution he was holding a second vial of intelligence serum. He wasted no time in downing this one too, staggering backwards a little as the pressure in his head increased. He couldn’t see his head expanding even more but he could feel it, like his brain was being forced outwards. But the feeling, of knowledge pouring into his mind, of an understanding that he couldn’t even fathom seconds ago. Most looked at the world and saw just things, chairs and tables and desks - he’d been one of those before, but now he saw the truth, the ratios and wave functions governing existence, the movements of particles and the Fibonacci sequences of energy pulses. It was a waterfall of information, but Kyle wasn’t interested in any of it. A look in the mirror showed his head was much larger than before, now noticeably swollen and mismatching the rest of his body. He was nothing if not proud of his appearance, and he definitely wasn’t giving up the intelligence, so a solution was in order. Considering his brain had the processing power of several supercomputers it didn’t take long to come up with one: he had to get larger. His head was just the start, he would find a way to make the rest of his body the same size, with an emphasis on muscle. Going to the gym was far too slow - no, this could be done chemically. All he needed was time and knowledge, and right now he had both. It would require some computing to crunch the possibilities, but he was confident he could get access to the mainframe. With a grin he unlocked the door and walked out the lab, his mind bubbling with ideas. * The first theory he tried was doing things chemically. Steroids had been around for a long time after all, and that was because they worked - he was pretty sure he could come up with something far more effective based on the same technology. Muscle production was basically just a function of proteins and hormones, and he knew both processes like the back of his hand now. He brought the wolf with him, forcing him into the role of lab assistant in order to do a lot of the work for him. Partially because it was necessary, but mostly because he just enjoyed bullying the smaller student around. The fact that he was now being forced to work on a project that he barely understood just sweetened the effect, his scared looks of confusion when he was asked to calculate vectors and catalyst effects and had no idea where to start. He’d been the clever one all his life, and now he was in the presence of someone who had eclipsed him effortlessly. He couldn’t even express his rage for fear of retaliation, and Kyle exploited that to ruthlessly bully him into submission, openly flaunting in his face and daring him to do anything about it. The wolf never did, and the taunting only got worse, from mocking sniggers to slaps across the back of the head that sent him flying across the room. The serum he ended up with was annoyingly very similar to standard steroids, albeit one tailored to his biology and with a vastly accelerated rate of growth. He drank it with reckless abandon, supremely confident in his abilities, but was disappointed with the results. He’d calculated the rate of change relative to the serum, but the problem was any growth was inherently limited by biological processes - when working within its limits his body could only go so fast, and chemicals weren’t the way to get past that limit. He needed something stronger, something to break those limits no matter the cost, and that was where the second idea came in. Project Carthage was the name given to this idea, and the theory was very simple.protein synthesis was slow, but duplicating existing cells was not. Instead of creating new muscle he would increase what was already there, force the correct cells into repeated mitosis as fast as possible. Mitotic replication was hard limited by the hayflick limit - the section of a cell that couldn’t replicate itself - which meant doing this risked lowering his life span significantly. The question then became how to overcome this limit, and the answer was of course with power. Lots and lots of it, tuned to a pattern of specific wavelengths to induce telomere mutation. The wolf had a blank look on his face as Kyle talked about all of this, filling up the whiteboard with complex equations as he calculated the wavelengths. “Has to be parcels, we want static mutations that are as accurate as possible, bursts of one wavelength are the easiest way to do so.” He paced across the room, pushing the wolf out the way as he did so. “You, you’ve been fucking useless all day! How do you induce telomerase production in humans, hm?” “I - I - I don’t kno - ” “Yeah that’s what I thought, fucking room temperature IQ. I don’t know why I keep you around.” He turned back to the board, and the wolf just couldn’t hold in his response. “You’re not that smart.” There was silence for a couple of seconds, Kyle waiting a bit before turning around to face the wolf, his face dark. He didn’t say anything, instead he walked up, wrapped a hand around the wolf’s neck and lifted him into the air. There was only the sound of the wolf’s legs kicking uselessly in the air as he struggled to breathe, as he gasped for his life. Kyle just watched him, tilting his head slightly as the struggles grew weaker. Holding the life of another in his hand - he basked in the feeling of power, of domination. He’d spent his life chasing it, and now he was moving on to the next step, the next rung on the ladder. He let the wolf choke until his face started turning blue before dropping him, letting him gasp for breath for a second before bringing a single foot down on his chest. He rested one arm on his knee as he leaned down, not even out of breath compared to the gasping wolf. “You live because I deem it so. The moment I decide otherwise, that privilege is revoked. You’d be wise to work at actually keeping hold of it.” He followed it up with a kick to his ribs, one that was just hard enough to crack them a little bit but not hard enough to break them outright. He’d calculated the force in his head, and he knew he’d been spot on when he saw the wolf’s eyes go wide and his scream cut off in his throat. Just breathing would be a sharp pain now, but not bad enough to keep him down, just miserable while he was walking or moving. Misery was good enough right now, he would make it work. Dissent dealt with, he turned back to his whiteboard. Project Carthage would need a large power source, but he didn’t have access to anything too potent in a school science lab. The best he could do would be to hook it up to the main line and see if that would do it, but he’d need the components first. Most weren’t too difficult to obtain, and for the next few hours he raided the science labs for anything useful he could find. A lot of the parts he got by dismantling other things, leaving a trail of broken parts in his wake, but he quickly realised he would need a bigger location for all of this. The modulator alone required a large space, the size being a necessity to moderate the wavelength with any sort of accuracy. With a grin he turned to the wolf. “Looks like I’m gonna need some of your lunch money.” * “Yeah this’ll do.” Kyle chuckled as he walked into the warehouse. It was old and musty, but considering he’d basically intimidated the owner into giving it for free it would do. Well, almost free - he’d given the guy the money he’d stolen from the nerds, who were now out of the equation. He was sure he’d see them later, but for now his project was all that mattered. Over the next few days he stole, built and generally acquired all the parts for his machine. It took the shape of a massive arch with a podium built into the centre, wires stretching to banks of computers all around the perimeter. Those same wires were hooked up to outlets, many of them illegal connections to the main power grid that would pull an insane amount of energy, more than several countries combined. All of this was necessary, and the limit of what he could make in here, but the result was worth it. He grinned as he stepped onto the podium, reached for the lever to his right and pulled it down. Machinery whirred into life, computers whining as they spun up, and when they all reached the correct pitch the arch sparked into life and a beam of energy blasted down onto Kyle. “GRRRRAAAAAGHHHH!!!!” He roared as his body seemed to explode with power, as seemingly limitless energy blasted into him and forced his body to expand in order to contain it. He’d tuned the arch to increase strength but it seemed there wasn’t a way to avoid yet more intelligence flowing into his head, his skull stretching outwards as veins flashed across his forehead. The growth up top was outdone by the growth down below though - muscles like steel cables rippled across his body, swelling with every crackle of energy as they surged through him and wrapped around his limbs. His arms went from slightly curvy branches to thick, throbbing trunks of muscle, his shirt ripping apart as the biceps tore the sleeves to pieces and then some, the growth continuing up his body as his shoulders rounded out before expanding, the growth distributed evenly around the muscle groups. The feeling was like pure lightning coursing through his veins, and wherever it went his body quivered and grew, trembled and swelled. It was one long orgasm, a lock of ecstasy that ended with his body 3 times the size it had been, limb by limb. His arms were already thicker than a telephone pole but now the growth continued through his chest, his already respectable chest surging forwards with each breath. It was as if he was breathing in and then just not breathing out, only instead of air filling the space it was muscle and sinew, tendons snapping alongside his shirt as his pecs blasted larger, as abs like tennis balls punched out of his stomach. “HAAAAAAAHHHHH, MOOOOOORRRREEEE!!!!” Still the machine crackled, and still the deluge of power continued. It moved towards his legs now, filling out his thighs so much that they went from gentle slopes to sharp, alarming hunks of muscle, the striations visible and rippling with the slightest movement. Feeling how his body grew lighter was a strange sensation but an enjoyable one, and he grinned as the power surged through his calves and flickered all the way down to his toes. Only when it stopped did he take a step out the machine to look at himself. “Ohhhhh, fuck yeah! This is more like it!” He laughed as he flexed an arm and watched the bicep surge past bowling-ball sizes and all the way to beach ball. His physique was not natural, that much was certain - he looked more more jacked than any bodybuilder alive, muscles shaping his form rather than enhancing it, the natural curves and divots of his body replaced with a paradigm of strength, a testament to just how much muscle you could fit into a mortal body. He loved how he looked, and truth be told he wanted more, but when he eagerly walked back into the arch and pulled the lever there was just a fizzle of sparks. No power, no orgasmic bliss that he’d already started craving again. He hadn’t realised just how addictive growth could be, the feeling of improving at the cost of others, no matter who they may be. The feeling of it all, of ascending closer and closer to a god on earth. He had to have more, but the machine he’d built couldn’t provide further than this. There was a limit to how much energy it could pull, and he suspected that he’d already darkened a few countries by pulling this much juice. He went over to the computer screen, which was displaying some very satisfying statistics: 7’2, 380lbs, 4000 IQ. He didn’t need to check the details to know they were right - he could feel the weight and power in his body, and as for the IQ, well he was already thinking of ways to get what he wanted. The question was simple after all: how do you get more power to the arch. The answer was nuclear fusion - whilst fission might serve him as well he was confident he could get a stable fusion source working, and the difference in power was far too appetising to pass up on. The bad news was there was nobody he could talk to for this sort of thing. Not that anyone would help - this technology was beyond even the greatest scientists of the era, requiring knowledge of certain mathematical fields that should have been impossible to obtain even with decades of study. To Kyle it was like adding 2+2, maths that should have been fiendishly difficult seemed to just come easily to him now. It was funny just how far he was willing to go for another hit of growth, how much he was willing to do. It was an addiction, and he was smart enough to realise that right from the start. The thing is he had no intentions of doing anything about it. His addiction was all about making himself better, and to him that was no different than motivation to do something. A different reason for sure, but it was the same result. And so he fed his addiction, and he let himself be consumed in his work. Now he had the advantage of fully understanding what he was trying to do - his previous approach seemed like it was designed by a caveman, a clumsy fumble compared to the elegant affair that he was constructing now. Intelligence was nothing without understanding, but now he had more than enough of both, now he was able to see what he was doing wrong. The first thing he did was to scrap the old system of power. He almost laughed when he saw what he’d been doing, just blindly funnelling power into himself without the slightest thought about how it should be done, not caring as to whether that power was being used to its fullest potential. It was admirable, but his insight meant he now saw it as foolish. The old power system was out and he began to construct a new one. The basis for this was relatively simple, but the problem was it wasn’t actually a technology that had been invented yet. The theory was sound, but sustained nuclear fusion had never been achieved on Earth - they simply lacked the know-how to keep the reaction sustained. He’d never done it before, but truth be told he didn’t think it was too hard to get up and running. He realised quickly that he would need at the very least a large amount of tritium as well as deuterium, skipping over the more commonly used plutonium isotopes as they were much harder to get hold of. In comparison his materials were not closely monitored, mostly because they were only involved in a fusion that wasn’t supposed to exist. He was able to get copious amounts of both, although his lack of lead shielding meant it didn’t take long before he was feeling the effects of the tritium. It was just an incentive to work faster: if his calculations were correct then the radiation poisoning shouldn’t matter once the growth was initiated. The poison would only feed his body, the corruption consumed and converted into power that he could use. There were psychological effects as well, the radiation would amplify his callousness and aggression, make them more dominant parts of his personality. Again he didn’t care, in fact he welcomed it. He would make the corruption his own no matter the cost. The arch quickly evolved into a Halo, the metal tube extending around the ceiling containing the fusion reaction and funnelling the energy down into the recipient. The wavelength modulators grew more and more advanced, the computers being put to their limit as Kyle created calculations that tested the boundaries of calculus, equations functioning in theoretical dimensions all for the sole purpose of growing as strong and as smart as possible. It was improvement made manifest, evolution but in the form of steel rather than flesh. After nearly a week of building it was finally ready, and he was so supremely confident in his abilities that he didn’t even want to test it on anything first. After putting so much work into it he saw no reason to share it with anything, not even a test subject, and instead he started it himself and went to go stand on the receiving end. The fusion reaction initiating sounded like a storm inside the warehouse, the building rattling and shaking as it powered up. FLASH The energy that rushed into his body felt entirely different to before. It was hard to describe, not in the sense of magnitude but rather in how it felt, as if before had been a gentle, warming glow and this was now a fiery spark of ignition, a kick that set his blood on fire and sent ideas thrumming through his head. He could literally feel his knowledge growing higher and higher, ideas that wouldn’t have ever occurred to him before just popping up in his mind like they’d always been there, like the machine was just unlocking parts of his brain rather than adding to it. And of course right there next to the intelligence was the strength, the power surging through his muscles and animating his limbs with strength, huge slabs of strength adding to his already formidable arsenal. He lasted only a few seconds before the Tritium got to him and he was forced to shut it off, staggering forwards and promptly vomiting on the floor. The radiation was immense, and even with the energy counteracting it somewhat he was feeling the effects. It would definitely take a while to get over that, but with the intelligence he’d gained he knew this was the best way. He looked over at a mirror to get an idea of his current body size, but was taken aback at how large his head was now - it was a huge, throbbing mass, veins pulsing across it nonstop as if his brain was pushing through his skull from inside. It was only thanks to the muscle cording his body that he was even able to hold his head straight such was the weight of it, and even with the physique of a god he was very top-heavy. Not that he minded - in fact he actually liked it, the indication that he was and always would be the smartest creature on the planet, and thanks to that gift he would soon be the strongest as well. Over the next few days he continued to improve his machine. The tritium radiation was at first crippling, but with the accelerated growth in his body it didn’t take long to grow accustomed to it and not require breaks any more. The early sessions were painful, but in just a week he was already taking long saturations in that wonderful energy, of which there seemed to be no limit. His mind only grew broader each time, and whenever he left the podium he was already looking for yet more ways to improve, new methods of energy absorption, forever more complex ways of pouring power into his mortal frame. It was an obsession, and every time he improved his machine it gave him the knowledge to make further improvements. All the while he only grew stronger of body as well as mind, his once relatively thin frame now so utterly stacked with muscle that it didn’t look like there was any space for more, and yet each time he proved that theory wrong. The radiation was but a suggestion now, and one that he ignored when he needed more strength, more ideas, more power. This was his life, and he was never going to stop. And he never would.
  19. PumpCulture

    The Mass of Us - part 5 (finale)

    CW: FMG, muscle worship, extreme muscle, GTS, blood, gore. Dinah threw up. Her bile sent up steam from the cold gray dust, but it was somehow less revolting a sight than Ellie. Her beloved Ellie. If that… muscle thing could be called Ellie anymore. If Ellie still somehow was alive, trapped inside. At all times of day and on into the darkest hours of night, Dinah could hear her screaming. More than her tortured imagination, she could hear with her own ears the choking, drowning, suffocating cries, wordless calls for help, the groans of sadistic violent pleasure that must be tyrannizing Ellie’s mind, the moaning for ultimate release, the shrieks of immeasurable agony emanating from somewhere deep within the mountain that her lover had become. Dinah wiped her mouth and dared to look behind her at the mountain of flesh, risking her stomach churning again if only to ensure she was out of the way and not in danger of being crushed and smashed into pulp. Dinah assured herself that she hadn’t lost her mind, yet. She remembered when the old man had not been so careful or perhaps when he had let his own unchecked obsession get the best of him. He was the cause of all this. He was the one that pushed her. Always pushed her. Pushed her to gain the weight cause he knew she could take it. Forced her to devour piles of raw meat until she was ready to burst. Ruined her femininity, destroyed her once petite body, turned her into this. He was the last to dare to touch Ellie. Whether out of fascination, curiosity, or service, he paid for it with his life when he risked giving her the release her body screamed for. He stroked her immense clitoris. Moments later, the last scraps of his head and torso disappeared, chewed up as if in a grinding garbage disposal by the jaws of her womanhood. Dinah didn’t sleep for a week. The old man had loved Ellie, in his own… unique way. Dinah knew that she and Ellie once possessed a love that went deeper than the base physical attraction that dominated male life. Dinah prided herself on that. Sniffling, she muttered the name of her half-forgotten lover: “Ellie…” Did Ellie even know Joel was gone? Did she even know what her body did to him without hesitation? Dinah wondered and reminisced, knees shaking as she got to her feet. Behind her, the writhing shadow of Ellie’s out of control body loomed in the pale morning light, exactly where Dinah had left it the night before but now clearly even bigger and more grotesque than the night before. Frozen dew sparkled like gemstones across the crags of her overturned form. Veins that seemed like huge octopus tentacles coiled and uncoiled with her heartbeat. Caverns formed and collapsed in the spaces where her arms used to be. The throbbing epidermis was covered with gashes that did not bleed, torn skin that did not entirely heal, always slick with pungent sweat that evaporated in gray wisps of steam in the wintry air. The sex smell… it was like that but a thousand times stronger. Ellie had become a wailing, seething mass of fibers that went about breaking and repairing endlessly, a ball of twine where each thread represented the constantly shifting tectonic plates of her inhuman musculature starving for room, fighting for space against one another. The sound of her endless muscle expansion was like a perpetual landslide of rock hard granite or leather being stretched until its tearing point. Her marbled flesh, crisscrossed with a vascularity that somehow redefined the laws of biology, pocked with the tapestry of bruises, lacerations, and shredded bulk, undulated, pulsing like a heart fit to power the planet itself. Yes, when one part of her didn’t spasm into an irregular flex, Ellie had become a sphere of a human being. Because her muscles had so exceeded their boundaries, it would likely be impossible for anyone but those accustomed to her grotesqueness to pick out what was what anymore–Dinah prided herself on that, as well, though not without gagging that needed stifling. Her pecs were so pressed together that the ravine between them was unimaginably deep, a viciously tight crack that buried her rib cage somewhere far beneath. Her chest piled up like two rolling hillsides, bursting up over the two biceps that pressed pincer-like in front of them, so massive that they actually touched while being forced away from each other by the bloated abdominal wall beneath them. Her fingers and hands, like her toes and feet, had long since disappeared, wrapped in impenetrable sheaths of corded steel–Dinah believed that Ellie’s skeleton hadn’t grown inside of all this mass, how could it? Instead, she imagined that Ellie’s skeletal structure was being pulled apart in all directions, an endless struggle to find even one more inch to fill up with raw, excruciatingly powerful muscle. With no inches left to give, the only way to go was outward. A gigantic nipple might stab like the head of a demolition drill out of the tangled mess but otherwise, it was a parody of anatomy enshrined to strength forsaking all else. Pecs overwhelmed her face. Her own neck and back crashed down over her head. Her shoulders were swollen enough to nearly touch above her. Her thighs grinded against the bottom of her chest. Her ass smashed against the corrugated scenery of her back. She was an oceanless vision of continents, Pangea made flesh. Ever growing with that sickening gurgling, stretching, grating sound. Numb with ritual, Dinah’s body also moved without her express request. In a blind act of repetitive obedience, she found herself climbing into the nearby crane. It barely operated but it still did its work. In the past, they had used it to pile cars, tanks, pieces of architecture, boulders, anything they could find that was heavy enough to test Ellie’s increasing strength. They quickly ran out of suitable objects. In poor repair, the crane coughed to life. While the gas lasted, it was only good now for measuring Ellie’s… height? Her width? Girth? It was impossible to tell at this point. Dinah swallowed the nausea coming up to her throat again at the thought of needing a crane to measure a human, glancing once more at Ellie. Irresistibly glancing. Fascinated. Repulsed. Obsessed. Disgusted. Enchanted. Her eyes saw the numbers on the scale carved into the crane’s boom hoist cylinder. Crude, but it got the job done. She saw the numbers… nearly 30 feet… she was almost 30 whole feet tall… across? Wide? Dinah’s mind reeled. She saw the numbers but barely read them. Numbers had long ago become meaningless. There was no way to weigh Ellie anymore. Their old equipment for that had long been crushed beyond repair. Ellie could be a ton or hundreds of tons… what did it matter? The crane’s engine sputtered into silence. At times like this, Dinah’s mind drifted and she dreamed. She dreamed of what might happen if she let the crane drop. Load it up with the wreckage of their vehicles, the beams from the yard, whatever she could find, then just let it fall. Let it fall and see… see if she could kill her. Dinah could crack her wide open like a red egg. End the nightmare. End Ellie’s suffering. Shouldn’t she do it, try it? Wouldn’t it be the right thing to do to end Ellie’s torment…? “The right thing to do,” Dinah’s hand trembled over the crane’s controls. She’d lost track of so much time. The journal Joel had kept that she herself then tried to keep after his passing had been lost. It was probably lying crushed under the twisted metal and gravel. Lost so much time… Dinah couldn’t even remember when Ellie last ate any food. “God…” she choked, tears stinging her eyes like acid. She realized she’d been starving her. Depriving her. Had it been a week? No. Much longer. The realization broke through her ritual like a knife in the back. There were no more animals left to feed to Ellie. Everything was gone. All that was left was Ellie. Endlessly Ellie. Extreme muscle growth Ellie. Nothing could stop her, not even deprivation. Ellie could survive lack of food, lack of water–how could she still live?–perpetually locked in a loop of gaining more and more mass. Was there a limit? Dinah fought through her sobs and gags. Could there be a limit? Would she some day break open like a dam, release a flood of her genetically-superior blood over the mountainside, filling the valley below with her death and presence, soaking into the planet, becoming the earth itself? Or would it never stop? Dinah grabbed her own hands and sat on them. She could not kill the beast. Nothing could. But would it kill her? If Dinah couldn’t stop the unending transformation that had claimed her lover, would her lover’s transformation eventually kill her? The awful thought of being buried alive in Ellie’s muscles shot through her brain like a lightning bolt. But if that was to be her fate… if Ellie was indeed still alive and could not be killed… then Dinah would accept it. Better to die, even in such a horrible manner, at the thoughtless crushing expansion of the most powerful human that had ever lived, rather than simply be shot by a thug or eaten by a clicker. Better to be enveloped by the unwelcoming brutality of Ellie’s existence. A goddess. Dinah’s drifting mind had never thought of it but in the space between waking and sleeping dreams, as her sheer exhaustion and worry began to claim her, she suddenly thought of Ellie as a goddess. More than human, of course. She might become her own planet, like Jupiter. Or Venus, better yet. Dinah’s eyes rolled back. She’d rest a bit in that thought: Ellie outgrowing the planet, putting it out of its misery since she hadn’t the will or know-how to put Ellie out of hers. Shining in the sky. Shimmering in the darkness. She didn’t realize it, Ellie consuming her waking thoughts as she had consumed everything but, that she let her left hand slide up and over her hip, then down between her legs. Dinah was groping herself through her jeans. She did it mindlessly, a machine worshiping a machine within the cradle of the old rusted crane… (read the rest of the story and complete library at patreon.com/pumpculture)
  20. The Passion Of Flames by big-Zargo Authors note: This story was inspired by an old story I made for a contest, to be more accurate my first story I need for a contest. I decided I could re-look at the story again because I felt that I could do more with it. And as I mulled it over, I felt that I could expand it and its ideas. Embers of a burning rainbow Patrick was hiking in the woods making his way across a trampled dirt path. He thought to himself, just three more hours and he will soon be off the trail and back into civilization. He rubbed his hand over his sweating pale white face moving some of his shaggy brown hair off of his glasses. His nose twitched as the smell of burning wood filled his nostrils. Nostalgic memories of the campfire passed through his head as he stood there basking in the flavorful aroma. His thoughts were interrupted as the world began to rumble from around him. Losing his footing Patrick fell onto the ground as it began to move before his very eyes, rather than a mouth opening it was as if the earth was becoming erect and was growing towards the sky. A small hill was being born right in front of Patrick’s eyes. In another dimension outside the barriers of multiple realities laid a massive red Titan of cosmic fire and passion, glowing so brighter and larger than a star. With giant rippling muscles bigger than the biggest continents on Earth, a forest of grayish body hair that a man could live on, balls the size of huge planets squished together, a ridiculously huge cock that can reach the Titans head. He along with wild grayish hair and a beard that reached his massive hairy pecs attached to a chest. A square-ish head with a strong jaw and prominent forehead and eyebrow ridges. This entity was So massive with muscles that the giant could not even move its limbs. Massive pillars of Flames had surrounded and wrapped around the Titan’s ridiculously big dick, stroking, and squeezing it in a form of masturbation. For unknown eons, this cosmic giant had rubbed at its huge fuck stick, with a blank look of pleasure on his face as time passed by; For its prison hold him well. But sadly, nothing lasts forever, and eventually, the cosmic giant came, and like a geyser erupting his hot cream cum had shot across the boundaries of reality and laid the beginning of the end for a lucky/unlucky world. When Patrick got up, he had found himself next to a new miniature hill, that appeared across his path. He had felt a strange compulsion to explore it. He quickly climbed up on top of the new hill to find a miniature crater reminding him of the pictures they found of books and the Internet. To Patrick, it looked more like a freshly dead miniature volcano, with its rough and smooth black glass all over it. He suddenly felt horny as the smell of a campfire had passed through his nose. The compulsion to enter the crater had been un-resistible to Patrick. He grabbed his crotch and began rubbing it in pleasure as he made his way deeper into the hole. A moan escaped his lips as thoughts of masturbating over right in any sense of fear or curiosity. He had taken off on his backpack and sat down opening up his pants and, grabbed his fuck meat, and began rubbing it, moaning and drooling all over his stubble-covered chin. All he wanted to do is fuck all needs to do is fuck. All that mattered to him like the embers of passion began burning inside his soul. He closed his eyes as he basked in his pleasure, a vision of a giant red man whose muscles block the sky, whose dick could crush the earth with its girth, whose breath could ignite the passion of men. The flames could destroy the world and remake in the giant’s image. Patrick roared as his cum shot out of him. This act echoed the cosmic Titan across space and time, creating a link between them; allowing the Titans power to bleed through the dimensional barriers and both blessed and cursed the man. Patrick’s eyes opened up as fire passed through his veins. His body began to feel warm as fiery passion had made its way through his expanding muscles; Causing the hiking clothing meant for an average man to quickly become tight and uncomfortable as Patrick’s body filled it in and then exceeded its limits; at that point, it began to tear and rip apart revealing his skin which was slowly being peppered with his brown body hair. Huge hairy pecs busted through his shirt company with a muscle gut. His thick thighs had destroyed his blue jeans. His shoes had burst off against his big feet as sleeves from his jacket had completely fallen apart on being able to contain his huge biceps. Huge meaty arms quickly removed any last shreds of clothing on his changing body. Patrick’s average size cock had grown into a huge fat fuck monster, with a need for immediate attention. His balls had grown into the size of apples filled with primal testosterone. The stubble on his face quickly grown into a beard as his forehead had become blunter and his jaw become squarer. His eyes had become a rainbowish gray as his psyche began to shift more in line with the cosmic Titan’s. Patrick’s meaty ass sat there on the ground and began masturbating again. The cosmic Titan felt a soul through the ether whose passion now burned like his. Slowly at first but Patrick’s memories passed through into the giant mind causing his attention to slowly focus on the earth. Patrick roared as he came, shooting his load out again onto the ground where a small puddle of steaming semen was growing. Patrick had come so many times after his transformation that he cannot count; Hours had passed, and it was dark. Patrick was no longer completely blinded by his lust and got up with his 8 feet tall muscle bear body. His breath stood out against the cold night air as his bearish body felt warm against the night air. Patrick was no longer hindered by the darkness and giving his hard cock one last squeeze Patrick began setting out towards civilization bringing the passion of flames with him.
  21. lunette

    Rebirth of a Great Evil

    A short story I came up with recently for my new characters. Cropped illustrations of the characters are included in this story, but full-sized photos can be found on my page at the Artworks/Morphs section here: LINK. Disclaimer: This story contains depictions of rape and/or mildly violent scenes. Please do not read if you find such content distasteful or offensive. Mero glided through the air over the area where he last sensed Promena. Given the strict rules they had to abide by throughout their training to join the ranks of the Seraphim Royal Army, the two rookies had gone out of their Enclave secretly earlier that afternoon to enjoy some time out. Training was getting stressful especially since both Mero and Promena were having difficulty passing through their most recent tests. At the rate they were going, they would never qualify to join the most prestigious order in the army that is the Dawnbringer’s Order. Ever since he was much younger, the now-74 years old Seraphim had always dreamt of being one of the Dawnbringers. They inspire awe and respect from all Fey races wherever they go, even among their fellow Seraphims. In fact, they are regarded just below the royals in Seraphim’s social hierarchy. Of course, Mero and Promena have a long way to go still. Their current age may be considered old by human standards, but for Feys those between 50 to 100 years old are equivalent to human teenagers. As he spread his 16”-span wings wide and floated above the wind, Mero closed his eyes and focused his mind on locating his friend. He was starting to feel that something had gone terribly wrong, and that their decision to sneak out of the enclave was a grave mistake. It took him almost a whole minute before he could sense Promena’s soul presence again. Soul presence is unique for every being as it is their personal connection to the Aether. Those with the knowledge and practice can easily sense and identify the soul presence of sentient beings in their vicinity. Familiarity and emotional connection with another, as was the case between Mero and his friend Promena, can even allow one to locate the other’s soul presence from far distances. Promena’s presence was faint, but it was enough for Mero to ascertain her approximate location. She’s alive, and close...Please be safe, Mena. The young Seraphim offered prayers for his friend’s safety to Cetnea, the Goddess of Protection. Promena’s soul presence brought the golden-haired Seraphim to a small, human town about three hours of flight from the enclave. The town was close the edge of the plain, at most a mile from the point where the vast Dhijarhe Desert begins. Mero circled the seemingly empty town high in the air a few times, surveying it for any sign of life. But it was clear to Mero a few minutes later that he and possibly Promena were the only two detectable soul presence there. Confident that there was no visible threat in the area, Mero descended swiftly and landed in the middle of the abandoned town’s small square. The young Seraphim folded his white, feathery wings and willed them to meld into his back, forming golden tattoos on his skin. Wing-melding was one of the basic life skills taught to all young Seraphims, alongside flight itself as well as beginner-level healing and protection spells. It makes it easier for them to move about when they are not in flight. Standing still in the middle of the square, Mero observed the empty buildings around him. He had never ventured this far out in his life, so the town was not familiar to the young Seraphim. A few looked like they were in need of maintenance, but overall, none of them were in particularly bad conditions. Something bad must have happened here, thought Mero. Were they raided by the Orcs? Unlikely, because even Orcs would leave trails behind. Mero closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on finding Promena again. It seemed like her soul presence was growing weaker by the minute. Mero was so focused on his task that he did not sense nor hear the magical portal opening nearby, and the two figures stepping out of it. A sudden, paralyzing pain throughout his whole body jerked him out of his concentration. The blond Seraphim shrieked in pain as he fell to the ground on his side, his lithe body shuddering uncontrollably. He managed to turn his body on his back just as two figures appeared casting shadows over his quivering figure. “What luck do we have today, Master Nacul?” asked a sultry, female voice to his left. “Two of these precious, winged Seraphims in a single afternoon!” The female being laughed with wicked glee. “We are lucky indeed, Svana. We already have enough for our work here, but who’s to say we shouldn’t have more,” replied a raspy male voice. Mero could almost visualize the wicked grin on their lips. In between the paralyzing pain and the bright sun behind the shadowy figures, Mero could only make out their shapes before he began to lose consciousness. Demons, he thought. He knew he was in deep trouble. * * * A waft of something cold with the unmistakable smell of Sulfur brought Mero back to consciousness. His head felt heavy as he groggily opened his eyes. The first thing to greet his return to consciousness was a pale-skinned woman’s face, smiling widely at him. A waft of smoke was being produced by whatever she was holding in her cupped hand, which she had placed in front of his face. Her bright, nearly glowing red eyes and the pair of inch-long fangs caused Mero to pull his head backward abruptly. His reaction brought a cackle of laughter from the three-century-old demoness. The blond Seraphim tried to move only to learn that he was completely immobilized. He dangled nearly a foot over the floor of a rocky cave – or dungeon, he couldn’t tell – brightly lit by torches along the wall. His arms and legs were spread apart and chained to a pair of stone pillars set nearly seven feet apart. “Welcome back!” the demoness who Mero’s quickly recovering memories identified as Svana said mockingly. “I hope you had a good nap, pretty one. And hopefully we didn’t cause to much pain. We didn’t mean to harm you. Not yet, at least.” She said as she caressed his fair-skinned face with her right hand. Mero nearly flinched when he saw that her skin from her wrist to the end of her fingers was completely black, in stark contrast to her otherwise deathly pale skin. Her hair was dark, and her lips much like her eyes was blood-red. She ran her fingers, each of which had at least two inches of sharp nails at their end upward through his thick golden hair. She gripped the back of his head to keep him from moving and brought her face and body closer to his. As she did so, she pressed her huge, naked breasts on his bare chest. Seemingly undisturbed by the action, Svana moved her nose downward to his neck. There she stopped and inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of his blood through his skin. In his mind, Mero cycled through the different types of demons he was taught during his lessons back at the Enclave, and she reminded him of the Malcarri, servants of the Archdemoness Malcanthet. Similar to their queen, Malcarri is an entirely female demon subspecies, renowned for their allure, illusion magic, deceitful nature and thirst for blood. When she began to moan while licking his neck as if she was tasting him, Mero closed his eyes tightly, waiting for her teeth to sink into his fragile neck. The sound of metal clanging on the stone floor caused the demoness to stop and promptly released her hold on Mero’s head. She turned to face the newcomer just as Mero opened his eyes. “You’re back, Master Nacul!” she said as she walked – no, glided across the floor – toward the other person, who had walked in from another part of the chamber. Master Nacul, as Svana called him, had the appearance of a hunched, elderly male human perhaps a hundred years old or so. He wore a plain black, hooded robe and in his left hand he wielded a spiked staff made of reddish metal. He could pass as a human albeit an incredibly old one, but Mero knew that this was not the case. For one, he had a similar soul presence as the Malcarri. Secondly, she seemed to regard him as her superior, which meant that he has either enslaved her through magical means, or he possesses powerful arcane powers. Either way, Mero knew he was in deep shit. Mero doubt he was capable of dealing with the one Malcarri, let alone two seemingly more powerful enemies. His frightening situation reminded him of his friend Promena, which caused the young Seraphim to look at his surroundings frantically. Taking in the sight around the huge, circular-shaped chamber, Mero’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when he realized that there were half a dozen other nude figures hanging or chained around the chamber just like he was. However, unlike him none of them were conscious. The stone pillars where Mero was bound to were also located on a higher surface, about three feet higher than the rest of the chamber. Mero took his time identifying the other figures. He noticed that each of them was of different race. There was a human to his right, then an elf, followed by a 7-foot tall orc, an equally large and hairy minotaur, a 4-foot dwarf, and finally Promena. Mero wanted to call out at his friend, but he knew it would be in vain. Her head was down, and her long brown hair covered her face. She looked largely unharmed Mero knew she was far from it. A demonic pentagram had been carved on her torso, exposing bits of flesh even though no blood came out of it. Similar carvings had also been done on the other five captives. Some on the chest like the human, and others on their forehead like the dwarf. Looking at the floor Mero was aghast to see a huge, intricate pentagram drawn using massive amount of blood connecting the six unconscious captives. Mero may not know much about the dark arts, but he had a feeling that his evil captors are preparing for a grand spell. Mero strained his neck to look up, and his heart sank when he saw how deep the chamber was. The only opening high up looked like a well opening considering its perfectly circular shape, and it seemed to be at least 200 feet above the underground chamber’s floor. Mero figured he would need his wings to escape. But first, he needed to free himself from the metal chains. Seeing as the sorcerer and his demon assistant were occupied with scrolls of paper that were spread across a table at the other end of the chamber, Mero figured there would be no better time. He closed his eyes in concentration, focused on gathering mana from deep inside his being, and whispered the incantation for the spell to break the chains and free his limbs. “Bazyudava!” Mero felt the familiar feeling of mana flowing through his body, but instead of seeing the chains falling apart Mero felt a deep, searing pain on his back as if someone was pressing a burning-hot metal brand on his back. The pain took him by surprise and Mero cried out loud, causing his captors to look at him in amusement. “An infernal arcane seal, my naïve Seraphim,” Svana yelled from her position across the chamber. “I etched the seal into the skin on your back myself. It’ll prevent you from casting any magical spell or even unfold your wings.” Mero could only grunt as he stifled his groan. The demoness moved towards the center of the chamber and gazed upward toward the darkening sky. It seemed like she was discerning the time of day, and a few seconds passed before she turned toward the old sorcerer and said, “The time is near, Master Nacul. You should prepare yourself.” Nacul looked up from his scrolls to his demon assistant. “Indeed, I should. Thank you, Svana.” He rolled the scrolls up and carefully bound them with a string of rope. While he was getting prepared for whatever horror of a spell they were about to cast, the demoness decided she would taunt the blond Seraphim again. “Aah, how lucky you are, Ceyafra,” she said teasingly, referring to him using the common tongue’s word for adolescent Seraphim. “Master Nacul has decided that you will be the witness to his awakening and ascension as the 10th Archdemon. How amazing is that?” “The 10th Archdemon…?” Mero said with unconcealed incredulity in his voice. There has not been a “10th Archdemon” in centuries, ever since the second planar war when the power-hungry Archdemon Trirkahnan tried to invade the Prime Material realm and was ultimately defeated. “You must be mad! I may not know much about demons or whatever magic you two wield, but you’re clearly human,” Mero spat in the direction of the emaciated-looking sorcerer, who was making his way to the center of the pentagram. “There is no way you can become not only a demon, but an Archdemon at that!” Mero considered the six helpless figures including Promena who will be part of the spell in some way. Even if he used these six as some sort of offerings or sacrifices…but turning a mere human into an Archdemon? Impossible! It must be impossible! doubt the young Seraphim. “Oh, but I am already a demon, young one,” the elder sorcerer said, adding more to Mero’s shock. “At least, I am presently half-demon. I am the offspring of a demon father and a human mother, both of which I barely knew. No matter, though. They’re irrelevant. My beautiful Svana here will help me to rid myself of my humanity, and this staff,” he held the spiky metal staff up high, “will grant me powers beyond the demon who sired me.” Mero stared at the metal staff with confusion which did not go unnoticed by his two captors. “I’m sure you’ve heard of the Archdemon Trirkahnan, but I wonder if you know the full story of how he was defeated?” Nacul asked. “Everyone who cares about the history of this plane does,” Mero responded brusquely. “He was an egomaniac, arrogant and greedy beyond measure. He was powerful, but his vices were also his downfall. Trirkahnan and his army tried to overtake this plane, but they were defeated by the Prime Coalition. Forces of good from this plane united to defeat the Archdemon and his army.” Mero cited as he had learned back at the Enclave. Svana sneered at the young Seraphim, while Nacul responded with a chuckle. “Is that all your history book says about Trirkahnan’s invasion?” the demoness asked. Mero was about to retort when Nacul said, “It’s what they want everyone to believe. Even themselves. At least so they can pretend they’re superior to us demons.” He then pointed the staff to the sky, and without so much as a word a red bolt of lightning shot out, striking the evening sky and caused a reverberation of energy throughout the chamber that lasted for nearly half a minute. The blond Seraphim expected the staff to be magical, but that single lightning bolt shook him and caused the hair on his arms to stand on its ends. “This is the Staff of Trirkahnan, young Seraphim,” said the sorcerer when the rolling thunder has eased in the sky far above. “The only reason the Archdemon was defeated, was because he was not of this plane. Demons are native to the Infernal Plane, so their essence can never last for long in this plane. Perhaps it was indeed arrogance, but Trirkahnan thought he had more time to conquer this plane. Unfortunately for him, he was attacked in a particularly rare moment where his essence has weakened, and the unified forces managed to destroy his physical body. Even then they couldn’t destroy his soul for he was a very powerful being. The best they could do was to trap his soul and all his powers into an enchantment. And that is this staff you see before you.” Nacul drove the base of the metal staff onto the chamber’s stone floor causing sparks to fly. The ringing noise it caused echoed for a few seconds before it dissipated. Svana then continued, “That was centuries ago, and even an Archdemon’s soul can’t survive that long in this world. I’ve been here for three days but I could already feel the strain on my physical body and my soul. But Trirkahnan’s power, it resides within that staff. When Master Nacul takes control of that power, he shall be the new 10th Archdemon, and I shall be his consort.” Mero was not even surprised at the last bit. He knew the sorcerer must have offered her something in return for her services. Seems like this demoness Svana was more than happy to betray her mistress the Archdemoness Malcanthet. “Enough talking, my beautiful Svana. It is time,’ Nacul said as he gestured for her to take her place. It was dusk, judging by the violet sky color as can be seen through the well opening. “Let the young Seraphim witness my ascension by himself. Then we shall continue.” The pale-skinned Malcarri moved swiftly to stand at the edge of the large pentagram, directly facing her new Master. Meanwhile, the old sorcerer took off his dark robe and let if fall on the floor. He stood in the middle of the pentagram, his heavily wrinkled skin exposed for Mero and Svana to see. Mero thought of calling his friend one last time, but he knew it would be in vain. Svana waved her clawed hands around, shaping and bending her mana for the spell she was about to cast. Nacul too was completely focused on the staff in his hands. Red and black mana appeared like mists around Svana, which she waved around in a circular motion before she finally uttered the words, “Izvandr Yatsin!” The ring of red and black mana immediately shot out to engulf the six unconscious figures. Their bodies glowed momentarily in response, followed by a shudder as if they were having a brief seizure. A bright red puff of smoke then emerged from their mouths. The smoke formed into strings and began to flow toward Nacul in the center. Nacul himself must have casted another spell, as red and yellow sparks danced along the staff and around his body. As the cloud of red smoke continued to flow and grow in size, Mero noticed that the captives’ body seemed to be shrinking proportionately. It was as if Svana’ spell disintegrated their flesh and muscles, leaving only a bag of skin and bones behind. Within a few minutes, the last bit of the red smoke had left the captives’ bodies and Mero realized that they were now truly dead. Their vacant eyes and mouth opened wide. His eyes watered at the sight of his friend, Promena, or at least of what was left of her. He silently vowed to avenge her death, even as he was hanging there hopeless and powerless. The red smoke had by now completely engulfed the sorcerer. Nothing was visible of him except for frenzied sparks of lightning from within the thick sphere of smoke. Then, faster than how it started, the thick, red smoke suddenly collapsed toward its center and revealed a changed Nacul. Where a shriveling old man once stood was now a mighty looking man, his frail body replaced with one that exuded physical strength and power. In his hands Nacul held an ordinary-looking metal staff, stripped of its mysterious reddish color. The sorcerer had grown not only in his muscularity, but also in height as he now stood nearly a foot taller than the lanky Seraphim. In between his thick thighs, his enlarged genitalia measured nearly ten inches completely soft. He has really grown all over, thought Mero. Nacul moved his arms, his eyes savoring the sight of his now improved and huge physique. A thin covering of hair sparsely matted his whole body. When he looked at his remaining prisoner, Mero could see that he now possessed a pair of glowing, red eyes just like a demon. Svana cooed at her new Master and unofficial consort. “It seems like the spells worked perfectly, Lord Nacul. How are you feeling?” Nacul closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before he answered, his deep voice creating reverberations in the air. “I feel…immense. I can feel the ocean of power inside me.” To demonstrate this power, the newly awakened demon extended one arm with a clenched fist and without needing to utter any incantations, his fist glowed bright red and in seconds a ball of lightning appeared surrounding it. He then willed for the lightning ball to dissipate, and it disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. A tingling feel on his back caused the demon-sorcerer to intuitively flexed his back, which then caused a pair of leathery, black and gold wings to unfurl. When spread wide Nacul’s large wings easily spanned as wide as Mero’s feathery one. The sorcerer spent the next few minutes admiring and flexing his new physique, while Mero and Svana looked on, one with contempt while the other with adulation and a sense of submission. When he was finally satisfied with his inspection, Nacul decided it was time for further demonstrations of power. The demon-sorcerer flapped his powerful wings once, and it was almost like he disappeared into thin air, only to appear directly in front of the bound Seraphim. Mero instinctively jerked backward in surprise, though his movement was greatly restrained. “Now,” began Nacul. “I think I should get to know you first, Ceyafra. What’s your name?” He said as he brought one hand up to cup Mero’s chin and held his face in his hands. “M-Mero Thyridas,” the Seraphim answered suspiciously. He could sense that the demon-sorcerer has something evil in mind. Nacul smiled. “Mero Thyridas. I’m feeling generous today. I don’t need to kill you, so how about…I reward you, instead.” Mero refused to respond, so instead he gave the demon-sorcerer one of his stony glares. Whatever this new Archdemon has in mind would not end well for me, he thought. “What do you say to a taste of power, Mero?” Nacul continued. “Perhaps I can entice you with a small dose of my essence.” Even without the sorcerer saying the word, Mero knew exactly what was implied. The Fallen. Blackwings. Dark Seraphim. Those are the few among many other names used to describe a Seraphim who succumbed to infernal persuasions and defiled their own nature. A Seraphim who voluntarily allow themselves to be tainted by demonic essence will forever be changed into a perverse, destructive and cruel version of themselves. Their white wings will turn midnight black – hence the name Blackwings – and their powers will be enhanced manifold, at least three times stronger or so Mero has heard. This was why demonic power was considered During the first planar war over nine centuries prior, a band of the Fallen was responsible for more deaths and destruction on the Prime Material plane than the demon armies. Some even led armies of demons in the battles against the old Kingdoms of Seraphim, humans and elves. Supposedly, the gods and goddesses themselves had to interfere to prevent the Infernal forces from winning the war. Nacul knew a Fallen by his side, especially one he sires with his own Archdemon blood would make for a very intimidating and powerful assistant. Perhaps he would appoint the young Seraphim as his general once he has raised his own army. “NO!” Mero responded without the slightest hesitation. “I would rather die than be one of your minions!” He then spat on the Archdemon’s face for good measure. Nacul smiled as he wiped the spit from his nose and cheek. “So clueless. So defiant. There is one way I can persuade you, young one. Make you submit to me. Yield to me and become my angel of death.” Before Mero could even start wondering what he meant by his remark, Nacul had reached down and grabbed his loin cloth with both hands. As if tearing a piece of paper in two, the sorcerer easily ripped the wool cloth away, freeing the Seraphim’s genitalia. Mero had always considered himself amply endowed, but his 7-inch meat looked small when compared to the sorcerer’s bigger organ, especially when Nacul’s tool was slowly growing erect. As he began to touch and slowly massage the young Seraphim’s cock, the sorcerer also worked himself to full arousal. Svana on the other hand was enjoying the show of temptation and dominance being presented in front of her. “Look at the size of my cock, Mero. Wouldn’t you agree it’s as much a weapon as my nearly limitless powers?” the Archdemon asked, though Mero remained silent. “Last chance to submit, or should I show you the damage this weapon of mine can inflict?” Still the young Seraphim remained defiant. “Very well. If that is your choice, then let us see just how long you can resist me. The Dark Goddess knows I haven’t had this pleasure in a long time.” The muscular Nacul grabbed Mero’s semi-aroused meat in one hand, while the other hand he used to stroke and massage his own painfully erect organ. It didn’t take him long to bring the blond Seraphim to full erection, though the latter had closed his eyes tight, trying his best to suppress his growing lust. Mero simply refused to admit this inexplicable attraction he felt toward Nacul. He knew it was not so much the physical attraction, but more toward the raw power he could feel being in close proximity to an Archdemon. Nacul brought both cocks together in his two hands and alternated between stroking and squeezing the two organs. Mero could feel the heat coming off from the aroused Archdemon. Soon even Mero could not stop himself from moaning in pain and pleasure. “Listen to my voice, Mero. I can give you power and pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. Don’t you wish to be the strongest Seraphim there is? I am the only one who can give you that power.” “NO!” roared the blond Seraphim. “I- I don’t need your power, you filth!” Nacul’s face hardened as Mero rejected his offer again. “Then I will let you experience real pain. Perhaps then you will change your mind!” Nacul carefully aligned his cockhead between Mero’s widely spread legs, and in one swift motion pressed his thick shaft into the young Seraphim’s tight hole. Nacul’s foot-long meat was like a burning-hot iron pike, and Mero felt every inch of the meat being driven into him. His first instinct was to clamp his hole shut, but it was in vain as the demon was too strong. Mero felt pain unlike anything he has ever experienced before as his anal tissue was being torn by the demon’s vicious and raw thrusting actions. He felt like the Archdemon was trying to split him in two. He was sure he was bleeding by then, though no blood seemed to have leaked out of his hole which was plugged tightly shut by Nacul’s tool. Mero started to grow even more frantic as Nacul’s pumping grew in intensity. He squirmed even harder, trying to free himself from the chains and the vicious rape to no avail. “Do you feel like giving up now, Mero?” Nacul said while he continued to pull nearly all of his meat out save the bulbous head, and drove it back in angrily. Mero ignored his torturer, his eyes tightly shut due to the pain that he could feel throughout his whole body. His own 7-inch cock was rigid, and painfully so. The pain and strange pleasure flooded his mind with confusion. He had never experienced male-on-male sex previously, even if it was not forbidden among his people. The torturous experience was driving him wild and still, the young Seraphim steeled his resolve and refused to give in. Mero’s defiance was causing the Archdemon to become increasingly frustrated despite himself, and he paid for the frustration with more relentless pummeling. It was as if Nacul was rushing towards a climax. He has not experienced any sexual fulfilment for nearly a century, the price he paid for magically prolonging his previously human life. The need for sexual gratification clouded his mind, and unbeknownst to him or Svana, his greed for sexual release would be his downfall. As he went on inflicting more damage and pain to the young Seraphim, Nacul could not stop himself from reaching the point of no return. He knew he now possesses such power that he can incinerate lowly mortals without much of an effort, but dominating the chiseled-face Seraphim was driving him physically mad with lust. Seconds later Mero felt a sudden surge of flooding cum deep inside him as the Archdemon reached his climax. Instead of pulses upon pulses of violent eruption as he’d expect, the demon began blasting a powerful, steady stream of cum inside him. Nacul moaned loudly in pleasure and satisfaction. His moans of pleasure were echoed by Svana, who was driven to an involuntary orgasm merely by being in the vicinity of the Archdemon. Nacul then casually grabbed the waist of the skinny Seraphim and began driving the young, lithe body up and down his throbbing meat. As he did so, even more of his orgasmic fluid blasted out into the near-unconscious Seraphim, and the pleasure it gave him was indescribable. Several minutes has passed and his seemingly endless climax surprised even the Archdemon. He wondered if there was no limit to his libido. Even Svana the Malcarri was growing weak from the series of orgasms she was experiencing. She might be a sex-demon by nature, but even she could not match an Archdemon. Nacul closed his eyes and threw his head backwards as he roared loudly, drowned as he was in new heights of sexual euphoria. It was only when he noticed the fast-growing weight on his pulsating cock that he opened his eyes again, and the sight that greeted him caused his jaw to drop. Several feet away, Svana was slumped on the ground but her eyes were transfixed on the growing figure impaled by her Master’s still-throbbing cock, pure shock and fear reflected on her face. Black veins bulged and ran all over Mero’s rapidly growing body. While this was happening, Mero himself seemed out of it with his eyes closed and his head hung heavily backward on top of a thickening neck. Bulges upon bulges of muscles appeared on his violently spasming body. Nacul’s great orgasm finally ceased, and his spent cock slowly slipped out of the growing Seraphim. The first thing Nacul noticed was how significantly weaker he felt. His sense of despair worsened when he realized he could no longer feel the ocean of mana he had felt moments earlier. The changed Seraphim’s body suddenly felt too heavy for Nacul to hold that he had to step back and release the hold he had on him. Mero’s body slumped to the floor on both knees, with his head hanging lazily forward and his hands dropped on his sides. Nacul instinctively reached out to touch Mero’s now-mountain traps with his hands. He tried to squeeze the hard muscles in his hands only to find that the transformed Seraphim’s body was so dense that he could not even dent it. Stepping a few more feet backward, the demon-sorcerer turned to his stunned assistant. “What’s happening here, Svana?!” Meanwhile the demoness’ eyes were transfixed on the prone hulking figure. She hesitated before she answered, “I- I think you’ve just transferred Lord Trirkahnan’s powers to the Seraphim, Master Nacul.” “How is that even possible? My spell freed his power from the binding enchantments of the staff. And I absorbed it into my body.” Deep down Nacul knew the answer. He has made a grave mistake by not letting the Archdemon’s power time to fully assimilate with his being. As such, the power that should have been his now belonged to someone else. “You did, Master Nacul. But…but it seems like his power has somehow chosen the Seraphim as its vessel...” Svana’s voice trailed off as she considered what she had just said. The Dark Seraphim in the first planar war were created by a touch of demonic powers and they were already capable of so much destruction and feared by many. It was the main reason the Archdemons gave them merely a touch of their essence. But one imbued with an Archdemon’s full power? Her thought was interrupted when she noticed the huge Seraphim had stirred awake. Her eyes grew wider when Mero rose on his feet and he easily towered over her demon Master. Nacul himself stared similarly wide eyed with awe and fear. Mero on the other hand seemed temporarily oblivious to the other two. A strange sensation traveled across his morphed body as he absorbed the last of Trirkahnan’s essence. He felt invincible. His lithe, slender body had transformed into a mind-boggling collection of bulging and striated muscles. He lifted his right arm and the extended, vein-lined muscles looked as though they would burst through his skin. He brought his left hand up to feel the weight of his mammoth chest and traced his fingers over the swollen areolae that crowned it, which elicited a soft moan from his lips. He moved his eyes downward but found that most of his lower body was hidden underneath the thick overhang of his chest muscles. He would have to crane his neck and lean forward to see past his bulging pectoral muscles. For the time being, the muscular giant ran both of his hands over his abdomen, feeling the hardness and the contours of each vascular block of muscles. His downward travelling hands soon reached the base of his enlarged cock, its new thickness demanded that he uses both hands to completely encircle it. Mero hefted his man-meat in his hands, and their sheer size and weight caused him to grin with a new sense of pride. Even soft it was more than a foot long. Nearby, Nacul and Svana were caught in a trance as they tried to comprehend the embodiment of power before them and the overwhelming aura his body emanated. His heavily muscled back rippled with every little movement that he made. A dark, metallic tattoo has also replaced the golden tattoo on his back. The Dark Seraphim suddenly raised his head, and his bright blue eyes bore into Nacul’s smaller figure. The muscular yet smaller demon felt like a prey that has been cornered by a vicious predator. For once, Nacul felt real fear. He doesn’t need any confirmation that the being standing in front of him now was a Fallen of unprecedented powers. When Mero suddenly unfurled his great, black wings, both Nacul and Svana wasted no time and tried to escape. Nacul had barely managed to spread his leathery wings when Mero’s powerful hand grabbed hold of his neck and held him in place. The demon-sorcerer flapped his wings frantically to no avail. He screamed in pain and fear just as Mero’s dark shadow engulfed his figure. * * * The newly created Dark Seraphim hovered low above the abandoned town, his powerful wings easily holding his massive body afloat in the air. As he looked down at the dull, empty town below him, Mero felt an uncontrollable desire to destroy it, just as he had felt toward the two demons earlier in the underground dungeon. The sensation was new, but Mero had enjoyed destroying them immensely. Both the demoness and the demon-sorcerer had tried to run away when Mero spread his 20-feet wings wide, but a mere sweep of his left wing as he turned on his feet, and the demoness’ upper body disintegrated in a shower of blood and gore. Even Mero himself was pleasantly surprised by the destructive force a simple movement had caused. Each of his quill was like an indestructible blade despite their feather-like appearance and the demoness’ body shattered like a brittle sand sculpture against them. Nacul the sorcerer had tried to fight him as Mero held him by his neck, his feet dangling over a foot above the ground. He had thrown spells upon spells that simply dissipated uselessly on the Dark Seraphim’s great, muscled body. Mero had then remembered his promise to avenge his friend Promena, so he had the sorcerer slowly dismembered limb by limb, before crushing the dying demon underneath his foot. Now relishing the same desire for widespread destruction, Mero brought his right hand up in front of him and willed his unlimited energy to start flowing and spread wide, before he clenched his hand into a fist. It was his first true demonstration of power when all the energy he had released rushed back and collapsed inward, disintegrating everything within a five-mile radius and leaving nothing but dust in its wake. Smiling at the magnitude of devastation he could cause with such ease, Mero lifted his head and stared at the horizon, thinking of what destruction he would wreck next.
  22. The fall of the sun stone monastery By Big-Zargo It was a great morning for me and my master Sir Rowan of mourning rise mountain. Sure, it was foggy and gloomy as we made our way to the Sunstone monastery, but we had won a great victory against the witch of the tarnish woods. She was using her file magic to corrupt children and transformed them into red caps who would server her. It was a hard fought battle but the one and were able to save the villages from her tyranny although they were few children who are too far gone to be saved we were able to save most of the children from becoming red caps. I looked at my master he was riding a white horse named Don and currently wearing a light chain mail armor brown leather boots, gloves and helmets. He carried his sword on his waist and his shield on his back his warm brown eyes were looking forward onto the road. We rode quietly for a few minutes as we made our way to the Sunstone monastery and tell Rowan’s face turned around towards me. “Tom my boy, I think it is time to talk about your knighthood. I have watched you grow from a quiet boy into a strong young man, and I think you’re ready for the vowels to the bright one,” Rowan said with a deep kind voice in a serious tone. “I don’t know if I’m ready for my vowels Rowan. I can feel the power of the bright one, but I have not heard one of his messengers speak to me,” I said with sadness in my voice. “I cannot speak for the bright one, but I believe that you’re ready. You just need some more confidence in yourself. I believe you and Theodore should travel to the mountain circle to check on those wizards for me it’s been awfully quiet up there, you two should check on them,” Rowan said with confidence.” “Why must I bring Theodore with me, Rowan? I’ve been Theodore is a nice monk of the Sunstone monastery I don’t think he can make the trip to the mountain circle,” I said with confusion and annoyance at thought talking to the wizards. “I know how you don’t like magic users but not all of them are evil. Magic, power and even our valves to the bright one can corrupt man we may be immune to magical corruption that we are not immune to moral corruption of our mind. I cannot stop you from listening to Sir Gabriel, but his dogged views of magic will lead many innocents to brand the stake of his blind crusade. Sorry about my miniature tirade Tom, I best answer your question. Theodore is needed because a priest of the local Temple to the bright one has died a mysterious death and Theodore volunteered to investigate the matter,” Rowan said. I stayed quiet pondering my master’s wards as in the air way closer to the monastery. As we got closer to our home, we knew something was wrong it was strangely quiet. Rowan had us stop and unmounted from our horses to that we may have on plate mail armor. Remounting on our horses we slowly made our way into the monastery. We heard a shout coming inside the stables. With no hesitation we made our way towards it the horse quickly galloped towards the stables but halfway there the forces began panicking and refusing to go forward. With no hesitation we got off of our horses and began moving forward towards the sound. We heard muffled sounds of it made her way closer. Eventually the fog parted like curtains revealing to us a horrible site. A huge muscular red demon with small red horns pointing up towards the heavens, big beefy arms and huge hands big enough to smother a human’s head in its grip, and his cock his huge monster of a cock… Dear bright one the demon had Thomas up against his cock forcing him to suck on it for that was just too big and meaty for Thomas mouth. With a grunt from the demon huge balls squeezed themselves shooting a load of its demonic cum down Thomas’s throat. He fell to the ground on his butt in a daze. “Speak of the angel and he show up here,” the demon said with a deep to my voice, while turning his face towards Rowan and me. His demonic golden eyes gazing at us with hunger and wrath. “How dare you enter our homes and defile are priests and brothers of the bright one,” Rowan said with such anger that has voice trembled. “What have you done with the other monks and priests,” I asked. I assume that I was not going to get answer from the demon, that he did. Pointing towards the fallen Thomas, we saw how he began to change. His skin had started turning red as curved horns started growing out of his head, both me and my master heard tearing sounds coming from Thomas as we saw his feet new monster feet pop out shoes. Then he had gotten up revealing to us his more changes, his green eyes now glowed like emeralds, his hair had grown back removing his Tonsure hairstyle, his monk’s robes look tight on his body and look now taller. He had quickly removed off his monk’s robes to reveal his new red muscular body, half naked with his pants barely holding on to his muscular thighs. He grinned at us revealing his sharp canines and gear quick flex of his giant muscles. It was if he had lifted boulders and fought off his life. “Who knew falling to evil of this demon… No, my master would be so intoxicating,” Thomas said with a demonic accent. I was in shock father Thomas was a strongly devout man blessed with the power of the bright one, how could he fall to this evil. Then I thought to myself if Thomas could fall to this evil than the other priests of the Sunstone monastery could fall as well or maybe had. Apparently both me and my master had the same thoughts as one each other. Rowan looked at me with a grave face and said. “You must leave this place go to the chapel of dusk-star tell the father Arthur of what happened here gets help get the order of light hammer take the horses and donkey and go!” He yelled out. I wanted to stay fight my master by understood implication, if this demon could corrupt father Thomas and his whole monastery of devout worshipers that might spread like a plague across the whole continent. I cannot let such a thing to happen and definitely since, my master will not allow this to happen now in a fight. I turned around and began running towards the horses, running from my home. But I found my path blocked by other muscular demons, William, Michael, Oliver, and Leo were all blocking my way. These once innocent people were transformed into muscular demons especially Leo, he was big and wider than the rest may be because he was in the blacksmith of the Sunstone monastery. Dammit, I didn’t want to fight these demons especially since they were my family. But I didn’t have to fight them I just had to get past. I brought out my sword and shield and started looking for opening for me to escape. I heard noises coming from behind me and knew that my master was fighting the 15 feet tall muscle demon. “I can’t let you leave here Young squire.” I slowly turned around making sure to keep track of the four demons around me. I saw a man holding a repair, who looked familiar looked to me. Especially with his black mustache and goatee and his Gerrish yellow and purple shirt. I tightened my grip on my sword as I said. “Asher the Bard, I knew something was off about use especially when you play summer sunshine during that girls funeral. That song way too upbeat for a funeral, it was distasteful for such an occasion.” “summer sunshine on the wind was Rose’s favorite songs know. She would’ve wanted me to play it as her funeral,” Asher said while nodding his head. With one lift of Asher’s left finger, I felt my body stiffened and become unresponsive. Against my will I was lifted off the ground and turn facing me to the battle between my master Rowan and the big demon. It looks like my master was winning. Although demon was not bleeding the bunch of slashing burn marks on his skin. That the bright one’s power and my master skills would fail this evil creature. With a burning slash mark on the demon’s hairy chest the fiend was pushed back up against of the stables. “Enough paladin I find myself growing weary of this battle and I find your fighting skills to be lacking,” the big red demon bellowed out. In a flash the demons burn marks healed before our eyes. Empty demonic hands suddenly are equipped with giant demonic sword on his right hand and a short blonde metal rod. Seeing this change from the demon my master switch stances to the warrior’s vigil preparing for the onslaught that was to come. the warrior’s vigil was a defensive posture with my master’s blessed heavy armor and shield by the bright one’s blessing he should be able to handle the big demon’s onslaught. It was a site to seeing my master shield tanking and redirecting the blows of the big demons giant sword while he parried the big demons rod with his sword. Each attack from the demon pushed Rowan back and back. Rowan was pushed to the limit by the demon and forced to use the full powers of the bright one that was bestowed to him. holy light began pouring off of him glowing angelic see-through wings sprouted out of his back, as he began to fight back. The demon switched out the rod for a big plane -looking shield with no adornments and the visible markings. Rowan started his counter with site cut, then a shield batch, then use morning rise technique, then fold up with dusk fall, then fold up with beard taker and a bunch of different types of martial techniques. The demon kept pace with Rowan’s onslaught with his shield and sword. Each attack from Rowan causes the demons shield to glow with the same light as Rowan and as it did so my master started slowing down. With one final cut from Sir Rowen’s sword the demons shield broke crumbling to pieces rather than being slashed in half, but as the shield falls apart my master fell upon the ground in defeat. “NO!!!!!!” I screamed out, in shock. The determination I tried forcing my body to move against Asher’s spell that had restrained me. “Well, that was quite impressive if Great-Z do not have a counter in mind the bright one’s power then Rowan would have had a high chance of winning big Billy. Still, he put up more fight than the other paladins of the Sunstone order. Now what to do with you…Hmmm…. Well at the kill you the bright one might know of our plans for this place, if you keep you just here as a prisoner is a chance you can escape or the bright one might find out. You’re not a paladin of the Sunstone order just the squire…Hmm... Know what I’ll ask Great-Z once I return to the mountain circle. I guess for now it’s best that you just sleep.” With the point of his finger in my word of power everything faded to black. When I woke up, I found myself in a dark smelling dungeon with very few lights in the form of dim torches next to me. When I tried to move, I discovered that was chained up to the wall by my arms. Before I could try to pray for help from the bright one, I heard her clapping sounds. “Clap… Clap… Clap” the torches began to glow brighter before turning blue in the darkness of the dungeon moved away revealing the scene before me. My master Sir Rowan, he was chained up as well with shackles on his wrists holding him up in the air and shackles on his feet preventing him from kicking and or moving and most humiliating of all he was naked. I recognize him by his muscular body his long brown hair that was skewing his face, especially that big scar on his right side of his thigh. I could only see the right side of my master. I turned my face to the right to see the big red demon. Now that was tied up I took a closer at the big red creature called Big Billy, as I thought he was 15 feet tall, extremely muscular big barrel chest he was peppered with black hair allover his red body, his big feet and hands were tipped with sharp black fingernails, he had a face of a brute, with a chin strap beard, no mustache long black hair tied up in a ponytail, two black small horns pointing up to the sky, demonic golden yellow eyes which may be feel fear and something else that couldn’t recognize… Wait… It was lust? That thought brought me down past the demon’s abs to his huge soft cock and big hairy balls. “Well, Well, Well look what we got here. The famous paladin of the bright one Sir Rowan of Sunstone order here to grace and bless us all with his presence,” Big Billy said in a deep sarcastic tone while walking up to the imprison Rowan. With his huge fingers he moved Sir Rowan’s hair away from his face before delicately moving his face up by his chin. “What do you want me, what do you want this monastery and what did you do to Thomas and the other monks of this monastery?” Rowan said with anger and hatred in his voice. “To answer your first question. to you this,” big Billy said. The magical gold ring appeared in his hand. I was barely able to see it, but it clambered in the light. I saw it float down to my master’s cock and slip around his shaft reaching his balls. A sling as the ring slipped on my master cried out in pain. “To answer your second and third question. I took over. With Asher’s help we were able to subvert the eyes of the bright one from this place long me to come in and start corrupting your family, transforming them into muscle fiends things to a combination of my power and great-Z’s. Don’t worry we didn’t corrupt everyone,” Big Billy said while snapping his fingers. More of the dungeon showed revealing the rest of the order of Sunstone, Sir, Kade the clover, Sir Armstrong the mighty, Sir Sam the Swift, and Sir Tybalt the Passionate, all shackled to the wall like me. While the rest of the other brothers and priests were in cages next to the exit. “As you see Sir Rowan, there are very few uncorrupted people left. I could of corrupted this whole monastery by the time you and your squire came back. in fact, I’ll let Thomas out so by the time you got here you can see your feet. To serve the muscle fiend trio as one of our muscle fiends. Great-Z is the most powerful, the most cleverest, wises and smartest of us, of course I would say the one you called Asher would be the more persuasion and charming of us. Well, you can say I’m the muscle of our group,” Billy said while flexing his left arm. “He’ll not be able to get away with this the bright one always finds a way to smite evil,” I said with conviction. “Please with little one, shut up.” with that decoration from the demon, I felt my mouth become numb. The Billy had an evil smile at the idea came to him. “I think I have the fun idea, a sexy idea. I was planning to break your friend first, transforming them into muscle fiends, but I think you be more interesting if I go for, he you first. You’re probably wondering whether that golden ring I clamped around your cock. The special magical item designed by Great-Z to corrupt paladins. Even now it’s subverting your defenses make you more susceptible to demonic corruption in particular to my corruption. By the time last of your friends will have succumbed you have been begging me to stuff my big cock up to your Virgin whole. It would be even funner and more delicious to break you first rather than your friends,” Billy said before giving Rowan a sloppy kiss. At first Rowan resisted the kiss, trying to thrash his head around it but Billy hold on his head was to firm. Eventually Rowan stopped struggling against Billy’s hold and stopped moving relaxing his body. Billy parted with the kiss, Rowan cock became erect. “What have you done to me, you fiend. why am I so God’s Dan horny,” Rowan said Panting out the words? “As we speak the rings power is subverting your divine protection and your strong will. It should take a couple days for the ring to corrupt your spirit but for a little boost from me it should speed up. Great-Z will be pleased at the results,” Billy said with sadistic grin on his demonic handsome face. To me, my master and others horror Billy forced Rowan to swallow his big red cock. My master Rowan struggled and choked on the big meat stick, before Billy let go. Instead of moving his head away Rowan began leaking at Billy’s cock starting from the head and tried making his way to the demon’s balls. I turned my head in discuss and closing my eyes. “Well, Well looks like it took longer than I thought three months rather than a couple of days. How annoying, still either your will is stronger than we thought or the ring is taking its sweet sexy time with you. You must love the taste of my cum by now. You must crave it, every time you see me, and every time you want to worship mine cock more than the bright one. Don’t you Rowan,” Billy said. I turned my face around to see my master and the demon. Rowan was still naked but time has passed his hair was clearly longer and had growing a beard. I realize the disturbing implications of Billy’s statement. If Billy has some form of time of manipulation powers, then we would be in trouble. His power would have to be massive to manipulate time. Clearly Billy was not some dumb brutes the demon had some are a lot of skills magical powers. Whoever this Great-Z that he and Asher mentioned must be very powerful indeed to control a demon with the great power. I pray to myself, hoping that the bright one would answer and sent us free alive or dead. Rowan was doing another round of cock sucking for Billy. I had no idea how many times Billy had force Rowan to suck on his cock but judging by the way my master is pleasing the demon they have been doing a lot. That didn’t know how long it would take for master to break but I pray for strength to him and myself. we Still had hope as long as the bright one lives in our hearts and long as we live, we will make it. “Is time for a test a final test for you Sir Rowan is quite simple I’ll let you leave here a live. It’s quite simple all you have to do is take your squire there and leave. I’ll even sweeten the deal for you if and your squire leave and passed through those stairs up through the monastery I’ll let everyone who has been transformed into a muscle fiend go. Free as a bird, butterfly on the way,” Billy said. With a snap of the demon’s fingers shackles holding me and my master released. I immediately fell to the ground and barely caught myself from hitting the ground face first, but I found that I could barely move as if preventing fall had drain all the strength, I had me. I heard steps coming closer to me. I couldn’t tell if it was my master Sir Rowan or the demon big Billy. All I could do was pray that it was Sir Rowan. I see it be this week if I had the vowels then maybe I could have gone away to get help. I felt myself being turned around and to my delight and horror I saw Sir Rowan; I could see blood red skin spreading across belly and thighs, the golden ring glimmered with demonic energy on my master’s erect red cock. I master easily lifted my body like I was a child in my father’s arm. Each step that my master took I could feel the ring pulse with demonic energy. The closer we got to the stairs the more powerful the forces from the ring became. Each step my body betrays me for my cock began to rise and harden. My master’s breath became more haggard as we got closer to the stairs and our freedom. I silently prayed to the bright one to give my master strength. On the way to the stairs, I heard the others give out encouragement to Rowan in the attempt to give him strength. As Rowan made it to the first step of the stairs in our freedom, we heard the demon make one last temptation. “Would it be fun if you and I plunged are hot cock down your squire’s virgin ass hole and make them squeal like a pig in heat,” Billy said. My master policy before turning around and saying. “No master his virgin ass is mine to take and ravage as I please,” Sir Rowan said in a deep demonic voice. He began walking back into the dungeon and as he did so the others uncorrupted began saying “No” in disbelief. I try to resist but had no strength to get out of my former master’s arms. Each step closer to the rising stone slab made my cock twitch and my ass hungry to be filled by Rowan’s cock. Rowan’s hands trembled as he placed to me on to the stone slab. It was cold as the grave, while in my master’s hands felt hot like the sun. He leaned in close to me and spoke. “You’re like a… Son to me, and I am p…p…pr…oud, proud of you son.” voice changing back and forth from his normal to the deep demonic I heard earlier. “I’m so…so sorry for failing you… You. I am sorry for failing the bri….Uw Fuck boy are you ready to become a real man a real muscle fiend, because I’m stuffing my fat cock down your virgin hole son. Prepare for your knighthood son.” Rowan’s voice completely shifts to the deep demonic tone as his brown eyes turn golden yellow. I knew that I must resist Rowan’s advances but a part of me always wants to obey him a part of the always wants to make him proud and by letting him ravage my ass it would make him happy. Besides I’m about to be knighted by my master. I knew the rings was now effectively, now that it was done with my master. My resolve my resistance broken by a master’s fall from grace. That was pretty hard to think when you Rowan stuffed his fat cock into my ass. at First there was pain then it blossomed in two pleasure as my master’s cock with in deep and the demonic dark magic passed through. In and out and in and out again my master went bringing me pleasure as he did so. We began to transform into our glorious forms. Rowan’s cock started growing inside me, as the dark magic flowing out the ring changing light inside so that I can handle my master’s girth. red began spreading out starting with my cock and where it touched, I changed becoming stronger. Before my eyes I started seeing my cock swelling grow as it turned red. Wherever the red spread to, on our body’s growth followed. Once brown hair became black as midnight on Rowan’s body. Already lean muscles grew and swelled as demonic fire passed through our veins. Starting with my master first, the red started from his belly and thighs and spread-out words. It had crept along reaching his pecs making them swell and grow as they turn red. He started becoming taller and wider as the red reached his neck. It had spread across his shoulders causing them to swell with the strength that could hold mountains. It flowed down into his arms starting with his biceps growing and filling out with strength then reaching his forearm with the veins popping demonic blood through them, reaching hands that’s swell, fingers growing to the size of sausages tipped with black fingernail like clause. Finally, the red had flowed up to his head his teeth sharpen, his face became more masculine, his ears grew point tips, and grew two small cone shape horns on his head. I was so fixated on his transformation that did up in those minds and tell my pecs grew on the tip of my vision. They even notice or know when my hands began massaging my big fat red cock. Unlike my master the red started out spread through my hands rather than shoulders. In fact, I had not even noticed the change in weight into my arms as to the demonic magic that was transforming me ran through my veins. The more had change spread through my body less of the old me remained. The light which would have will let me use the bright one’s power was now turning dark and as it did so, I reveled in it. The whole time as my body was going through these changes, I was feeling hot and tingly. Course I felt all the pain that didn’t matter to me all that did was the power that was flowing through my veins. Even as it had spread to my head. Black body hair started popping out all over my fiendish body peppering my barrel chest, huge arms, mighty back, plump ass, tree trunk thighs, thick calves, and my huge balls. Eventually we had to came and shot are load of cum and sealing our feet. We panted in our afterglow. Rowan moved backwards so that I can get up from the stone slab. I walked forward for a little bit before kneeling so that Big Billy could Knight me, with his big cock. Without even looking I had known that it had grown long as a sword. “I knight thee, Sir Tom Hell Knight of the Fiendish trio. Now suck my cock,” my new master big Billy said. I looked up and saw my master’s long cock shrink and split into two big fat cocks. “Now come my two knights taste your masters seed and rejoice your new freedom from their humanity,” mastered said. We began sucking on our masters’ delicious cocks, and as we did so he bestowed us more power in the form of knowledge and skills. The more we pleasured him the more he grew in our power. My former master Rowan had plenty experience of pleasure in your master and therefore was able to get more knowledge from him. I could’ve have sucked on his cock all day but eventually my master shot his delicious demonic load into our mouths. Rowan and I got up and began examining each other. We have become muscle fiends and we were damn sexy fiends. Rowan was 9 feet tall, big muscular body with the barrel chest, peppered with black hair all over his body a down pointing triangle shaped of further was on his chest, pointing down to a treasure trail that reached his cock and balls. His big muscular body was supported by muscular thighs. I had known without even looking that had the same type of horns as Rowan. I also knew that my body hair was more rounded and spread out like a bear. We both knew that we are stronger, faster, smarter, and more durable than humans, that the powers we once had or potentially could have had, were now enhanced by Fiendish trio’s power. We looked around for our next victims. Rowan could choose from any of the nights and squires from the sun stone order, while I got the priests and monks from the sun stone of order. Brother Theodore’s fat ass was looking nice and plump to me. I made my way to where the monk was held. I could smell the fear coming off of him as I came closer to his cell. Smiling I grabbed the fat pig of a man, his weight being no problem for my new string. Wasting no time, I had him on the floor on all fours. I opened his ass cheeks and with one spit on to his cherry from my demonic saliva he began to moan in pleasure. “I always knew you wanted some dick; you damn fat slut. Does all those vowels of abstinence really give you strength to resist your base urges. Well, it doesn’t matter little fat piggy I’m about to make you into big boar,” I said as I plunged my fat demon cock into his ass. Theodore moaned in pleasure as I was fucking him. Each thrust of my cock triggered him to turn red and grow, starting from his ass. I could feel his back muscles grow tighter getting bigger as his shoulders widening with growth. Red had quickly spread across his body flowing down from his torso to his limbs. His once light brown hair became black as it began spreading across his changing body. Through my connection to Theodore, I could feel his balls swelling growing bigger, his cock becoming fatter and longer dripping the last of his humanity through his cum. Each thrust I was giving him gave was stuffing pounds of muscles into his changing body. Each limb was just as thick as my even a little bit bigger with the fat covering it. When the red spread to his face and to Longhorns grew from his skull, I knew he was ready to come and finish his transformation into a muscle fiend. With the roar from both of us we came, me giving him one last growth spurt as we did some. The smell of sex was in the air as me and Theodore got up. I looked to see the master and Rowan spit roasting Sir Armstrong causing my mouth to water at the sight. Armstrong was turning out to be a big muscle fiend and he was almost done as well with his new massive demonic body. he was going to be 11 feet tall by my estimate and wider than Rowan and me. I decided to look for my next victim among the sun stone order. I found that they were broken or stirring to break, some of the priests and monks were starting to masturbate as our glory some even begging to join us and who am I to say no to that.
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