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The Champion (UPDATED w/ three endings May 9 2021)


Mikeytron

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A beautiful one shot. Who knew a demon could love a human?. Adam's desire/greed liek teh demon put it was so unique he fell for it.

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Every now and then, when you have given up all hope already, Mikey comes down, like a theophany, blessing us mortals with a story so good it is worth a thousand wanks - and then he leaves again, without a word. And you never know if this was the last time or he'll come back again once more, to save us in the hour of need.

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47 minutes ago, Trippin said:

Every now and then, when you have given up all hope already, Mikey comes down, like a theophany, blessing us mortals with a story so good it is worth a thousand wanks - and then he leaves again, without a word. And you never know if this was the last time or he'll come back again once more, to save us in the hour of need.

Le demon c’est moi. 😉

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Mikey that was extremely well written. I knew you were an academic, but few scholars write so eloquently and rapt the attention of their readers like that. I'd read a novel in your prose if you ever decide to go there. Very well done!

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Initially I wanted the ending to be ambiguous, unresolved. Is the demon-lover waiting there? Is no one waiting there? Is it something else?

Then I decided I wanted to write three different endings. One bad, one mixed, one good. Or, Inferno/hell, Purgatorio/purgatory, Paradiso/heaven. So here they are, the three branching paths of my story's conclusion. If you read all three, remember the first one is darkest, and that the ship is sailing toward gentler waters.

 


BRANCH ONE: INFERNO

The hotel room was just a hotel room, the same as every hotel room in the world. An anonymous bed. An armchair. It was empty.

Adam stepped inside, his heart pounding in his ears. He maneuvered his overgrown body further into the room, muscles twitching and flexing with anxiety. “Hello?” he repeated. He could hear how desperate his voice sounded.

Nothing.

He made it to the armchair by the window and lowered himself into it. His massive quads rising to meet his bowed out ab-gut. His huge ass filling the generous seat, pushing against the arms and back of the chair, making him sit unnaturally tall, as if on a pile of cushions. 

He waited. Silence. Nothing.

He felt it rising in him. He tried to hold it down but as the minutes continued to pass it grew stronger and stronger. 

“Where are you?” he said, hearing his voice quiver. His eyes stinging. He inhaled shakily. Waited a few seconds more. The room was unbearably silent. 

“Why aren’t you here?” he asked the empty room, and then he broke. Tears burbling out of him pathetically. He tried to put his face into his hands but he couldn’t even manage that, his muscles were so gigantic, getting in each other’s way. He sat in the chair and shook with grief, tears running down his face, dripping onto the shelf of his pecs. Any attempt to pull himself together just made him weep harder.

“Oh, I’ve been here for a while, but I just wanted to see you cry for a bit, first. I do love to see a grown man cry, especially one so... extra-grown.”

Adam’s breath caught in confusion. That wasn’t the voice he had hoped to hear. It was rougher, deeper. Adam tried to wipe his eyes, again not quite able to reach. In his tear-blurred vision, there was an ugly mass of man standing by the foot of the hotel room bed. His head shaved bald, his lips thin, his eyes like blue fire, muscular in a skin-head kind of way. He blazed with an aura of cruelty. 

“Of course I’m not him,” the stranger said, answering Adam’s thoughts even as he thought them. “What an offensive idea. He was a fool. An idiot.”

“Wha-” Adam began to speak, his voice thick and unsteady with crying.

“Oh, you love him so much, it’s pathetic. You give me a toothache. He didn’t even tell you his name.”

Adam’s breath hitched. The stranger was right. He hadn’t told Adam his name.

“Don’t worry. It’s been erased now, anyway. I couldn’t tell you what it was even if I wanted to. Fuck, you’re so stupid. What do you think he meant when he said ‘this could be my unmaking?’ What, you think Hell is like some office, his manager might put a note on his file?” He barked a short laugh. “You monkeys have such limited comprehension. You disgust me.” 

Adam’s sorrow began to be displaced by a new feeling. Panic. His guts froze and he tried to rise from the chair. Fight or flight. He couldn’t move very fast anymore, but he could still knock this guy down and make a break for the door. It was then he realized he couldn’t move, couldn’t twitch a finger. He started to hyperventilate. 

The stranger smirked and stepped closer. “He threw away an eternity for this pathetic carcass of yours. Unbelievable. What I truly don’t understand is why.” 

Adam moaned in dismay. He felt heavier. Whatever protections his lover had placed on him were being removed. His joints ached. He felt his heart struggle in a way it hadn’t before. His skin felt too tight. He felt vaguely nauseated. He had grown huger than humans were ever meant to grow and now he was starting to bear the price of overstepping that boundary. 

“Do you know how miniscule your lifespans are to a being like me? To a being like what he was? A hundred years is… a breath. Inhale, exhale, that’s a mortal born and died. He gave that up for you. And what are you, even? Some sick pervert who wants to be too muscular to function properly. Just because it gives you a hard-on. You could have wanted fame, fortune, power, you could have enjoyed sixty or seventy years of the high life before Hell came to claim you. But no, you just wanted to be this… blob of a thing. What pathetic fools, both of you.”

Adam tried to speak but his throat felt constricted. He… he was growing. His muscles slowly inflating, like balloons filled with wet cement. Unbearably heavy. 

“What, you thought you’d get off scott free? A demon comes to punish someone for the sin of greed and lust by giving him too much of a good thing. He fucks up the job, fucks it up so bad they literally pull him apart atom by atom - oh, and believe me, he suffered more than you can comprehend before the end - and then the legions of Hell just forget about you?” His thin lips curled into a sneer. “No. I’m here to finish the job, and make sure it’s done properly.”

Darkness gathered around the demon. The temperature in the hotel room plummeted. Adam’s heart spasmed and throbbed with its triple burden of heartbreak, terror, and 450 lbs of muscle. 450 lbs and growing. He tried to scream but his mouth wouldn’t open. Nostrils flaring with panicky insufficient breath. The sounds he made were horrifying, chilling, an animal seconds from slaughter who knows its fate.

There was a crushing weight on his chest, a tight pain that got worse every second.

The demon looked less and less human, more and more brutal. Eyes blazing with cold fire. He fished out an iphone, of all things, tapped the screen a few times. He smirked, then, leaned in to the bloated mess of meat that was Adam, and held the phone in front of his snotty tear-stained face. 

MR. OLYMPIA ADAM NOVAK, 26, DEAD

Adam made a wordless groan of anguish.

“Wait, wait, you haven’t seen the best part.” The demon took the phone back, scrolled a bit, and then turned it around so Adam could see again.

A comment from some internet nobody. ”RIP, too young. Steroids are the devil.”

The demon threw his head back and laughed, a deep, eerie, unearthly laugh. “Ha! Steroids are the devil!”

The chair broke under Adam’s ever-increasing weight and he sprawled like a tortoise on its back. Hands and feet unable to reach the floor, stuck helplessly in the air by the sheer size of his arms and legs. His limbs were being forced into a starfish position, like a grotesque parody of da Vinci’s Vitruvian man, where every available inch of space is packed with useless meat.

Fingers of freezing fire gripped his heart and squeezed, hard. Cold sweat ran in rivulets over his disgusting carcass. The demon finished laughing and watched Adam swell. He purred in satisfaction, licked his lips, and snapped his fingers. Every muscle on Adam’s body seized, cramped, flexed as hard as it could. He would have screamed if he was able. His neck muscles were strangling him, squeezing shut his windpipe. His joints were dislocating, pulling apart. His hips coming out of their sockets as his legs pushed harder and harder against each other, bloating up bigger and bigger. His skin began to rip apart, blood oozing through stretch marks a foot wide. 

His poor suffering heart spasmed one final time and ceased.

The fatal final flex relaxed. Adam was confused. He was still with the demon. The hotel room had gone fully black. It was no longer recognizable as a room. It seemed like an infinite dark space.

“Oh, did you think death would free you? That’s cute.” The demon smirked, all vestiges of humanity gone now. He was a fallen angel, and he was horrifying to gaze upon. He was the spirit of cruelty. Adam’s soul gibbered. “No, we’ve got tens of thousands of years to fill this space with you, sinner. Imagine that. You’ll be a planet-sized blob of muscle, and you can’t die, you can only suffer. You think it hurts now? You’ll think back to these moments with longing. Just remember. You asked for this.”

Adam tried to scream as the growth resumed, consuming him for all eternity, burying him in ton after ton of self.


BRANCH TWO: PURGATORIO 

The hotel room was just a hotel room, the same as every hotel room in the world. An anonymous bed. An armchair. Empty.

Adam stepped inside, his heart pounding in his ears. He maneuvered his overgrown body further into the room, muscles twitching and flexing with anxiety. “Hello?” he repeated. He could hear how desperate his voice sounded.

Nothing.

He made it to the armchair by the window and lowered himself into it. His massive quads rising to meet his bowed out ab-gut. His huge ass filling the generous seat, pushing against the arms and back of the chair, making him sit unnaturally tall, as if on a pile of cushions. 

He waited. Silence. Still nothing.

He felt it rising in him. He tried to hold it down but as the minutes continued to pass it grew stronger and stronger. 

“Where are you?” he said, hearing his voice quiver. His eyes stinging. He inhaled shakily. Waited a few seconds more. The room was unbearably silent. 

“Why aren’t you here?” he asked the empty room, and then he broke. Tears burbling out of him pathetically. He tried to put his face into his hands but he couldn’t even manage that, his muscles were so gigantic. He sat in the chair and shook with grief, tears running down his face, dripping onto the shelf of his pecs. Any attempt to pull himself together just made him weep harder.

Adam sat in the chair for hours. Bouts of proper weeping were spaced with periods of near quiet, punctuated by just a few whimpers. He was a no-show at his own celebration. His phone buzzed and buzzed with texts and calls from friends, associates, well-wishers, first congratulating him, then wondering where he was. Adam sat there all night.

He never showed up.

Adam stopped crying. His head hurt. He knew he was already dehydrated from the contest, knew he should get some water. He stood up. The room was unbearable in its silence, its emptiness. He went to the sink and poured glass after glass of water, watched his muscles flex and bulge as he gulped each one down. He looked unreal, cartoonish in the harsh bathroom light. 

I wish he was here to see this.

That set him off again. He leaned forward, hands on the sink, and started sobbing, his soul aching for the absent beloved. He returned to the chair by the window and sat back down. He waited. He knew, at some level, it was futile, but he kept a vigil. 

The grey light of dawn was pearling the eastern sky when Adam crawled into bed, whimpering, alone. He knew he’d be alone for the rest of his life. Even if he met someone, married them, had kids and a house with them - he knew his soul would never be mingled with another in the same way, not ever again.

He awoke after three or four hours of fitful sleep. He looked wretched, dark circles under his eyes, even more dehydrated than the day before. But he knew he had to go on. He moved like a robot through the days that followed, doing the photoshoots, doing the interviews, trying his best to be the charismatic face of the sport of bodybuilding, a role he could not avoid, now, not if he tried. 

His growth stabilized. He continued to compete in the 350s, getting up toward 400 lbs during the off-season. He won six Mr. O’s in a row before retiring. He knew he could have won more, but he had invested wisely and he was tired of the grind. 

He kept his muscle, though. He would do occasional guest posing well into his 40s and he still looked phenomenal, was still fifty or sixty pounds heavier than any other bodybuilder his height. He remained a bodybuilding celebrity, with millions of followers. Even as new technologies were developed, no one came close to Adam Novak’s sheer size for decades and decades. 

He kept that stunning muscular size even with minimal workouts, three times a week, not pushing too hard, eating more like a normal person. Even into his 70s he was over 300 lbs with abs. He was the 75 year old with 25” biceps - smaller than at his biggest, but still bigger than almost anyone else. And it never affected his health. He never had joint pain from carrying so much mass on such a relatively short frame. His heart and liver and kidneys stayed strong. His cholesterol was perfect. 

His heart would still give a tender, painful throb when he remembered the night alone in the hotel room, the night when his lover was supposed to appear but didn’t. Despite that, he knew that the demon must be watching over him somehow, must be taking care of him. The protections he’d placed over Adam never wavered.

He had a good life. He travelled. He learned. He enjoyed pleasures large and small. He became wise. He died in his sleep, peacefully, at 90, still unnaturally muscular. He didn’t appear to die of anything. It just seemed like he was ready to go. 

They found him with a smile on his face. “He must have been dreaming about something nice when it happened.”

It was a good guess, but he was smiling for a different reason. When he went to sleep he felt like he wouldn’t be waking up. He dared to hope that maybe, finally, 64 years later, he might be reunited with the love of his life. He hoped to wake up somewhere else, somewhere in his arms.

 

BRANCH THREE: PARADISO

“Hello?”

Even as he spoke the word, he heard some sound from within the room. Like someone was watching television or something…? He recognized his own recorded voice. What was going on here?

Adam maneuvered his overgrown bulk through the narrow entryway, turning almost entirely sideways. He stepped into the room and saw his demon lover sitting in the armchair by the window, bulging out of his XXXL stringer tank top, thighs exploding out of his short shorts, smiling fit to split his face in half. He was so fucking handsome, dark hair, dark eyes, perfect skin, muscles full and round and huge. Nowhere near as big as Adam, now, but he exuded so much attractive masculine energy that Adam felt even more light-headed than before.

On the TV was the OnlyFans video Adam recorded right after his old office job fired him. Back when he was a bulked 250 lbs - 108 lbs less than he weighed today, just a year and a half later. He looked so… normal in the video. A total stud, yes, very muscular, young and handsome, hulking out of button-up shirt after button-up shirt, but normal, believable, one hot bodybuilder among the thousands in the world. He was snarling and panting, free hand mashing his hard-on through his work pants. Really playing into it. “This is what I think of your dumb office,” he said, spreading his lats. The shirt resisted and then, with a sound like a gunshot, the fabric exploded down the sides of his ever-widening torso. “This is what I think of coming in every morning and yes-sir-ing to weak middle-aged fucks who’ve never accomplished anything meaningful in their lives,” he said, throwing a bicep toward the camera, pale blue cotton slowly, deliciously peeling away from the grapefruit-sized muscle as it bulged and swelled, bigger and bigger.

“Hey champ,” the handsome demon said, still grinning. “Congratulations.”

“I’m so happy to see you,” Adam said, anxiety melting, relief washing over him in gentle warm waves.

“I know you are.” The demon smiled even bigger. “I’m happy to see you, too.”

“So… what’s going on?” Adam gestured at the video of his smaller self, defiantly tearing apart the livery of his former job, liberating himself flex by flex.

“I quit,” the demon said. 

“You…. quit?”

“I quit! Just like you did. Let’s say you inspired me.”

“Can you… do that?”

“Oh, I had to give up a lot. Most of my powers. Immortality. But I did it happily.” He stood up, then, erection proudly tenting his shorts. “I spent, oh, tens of thousands of years exiled from heaven. Then I found paradise where I least expected it. I’d gladly give up eternity to spend a mortal lifetime in heaven with you.”

Adam felt his heart swell. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening. He tried to speak but a happy cry came out instead. The ex-demon stepped forward and gathered him in his arms and kissed him. Adam felt all 358 lbs going limp, like he was melting into his beloved. But the demon - the former demon - his lover - was strong, strong enough to hold him up, 22” arms firmly, if barely, wrapped around his torso. Adam felt protected and loved in those arms. Their twin erections pressed firmly against each other, two magnets pointing to the same north, every cell in one body attuned to the other and vice versa. They kissed again and again, confirming and reconfirming the flesh of the other, each one believing the other to be a miracle.

Finally, a pause. “Adam, I… I know I should have asked first. If you turn me away I won’t have anywhere else to go, but you can, you know. You can turn me away. You have to take me freely, not out of any obligation. Not out of pity. But it all happened so fast, if I stayed any longer things could have gone very bad for both of us, and I… I want to be with you more than I want anything else, anything I’ve ever wanted, I…”

Adam took the babbling ex-demon’s face in his hands, a muscle-thickened palm on each side, and drew the taller man down so that their foreheads pressed against each other. “Take a deep breath,” Adam said. “Calm down.”

The ex-demon’s heart was beating so fast. Before now he’d never had a heart to beat. How did mortals live with this pounding inside them, always pounding? Their minds like electrical storms. He gulped air, laughed at himself, shakily. He was mortal now, too, after all. He would have to get used to this. These… surges of being. He never knew the love he felt would get stronger when he gave up his demonic form. He never knew these curious monkeys were capable of feeling so much.

“Adam…. will you…. share your life with me?” He was shaking for the first time ever in his tens of thousands of years of existence.

Adam smiled. “Of course I will,” he said. And then they kissed again, gently, deeply. The final covenant between them sealed, the last contract. “I’ll stay by your side forever, if you stay by mine.” 

“Oh god, yes, yes, of course, yes.” And they were husbands, then, in the eyes of the universe, even if no mortal laws had yet been consulted.

The OnlyFans video had stopped playing and the room was a quiet cocoon of love. Adam suddenly started laughing. His ex-demon husband pulled back slightly, a curious expression on his face. “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t even know your NAME,” Adam managed to get out between wild laughter, laughter at the ridiculousness of the entire situation.

“Oh! Ah…. well…. My old name, I don’t like it all that much anymore. Why don’t… fuck, I didn’t think this far ahead. Why don’t you call me Mo, maybe? It’s a little part of what my name used to be.”

Adam sighed, content, and nuzzled his face into Mo’s neck. “OK, Mo. They might have some issues at the DMV but we’ll deal with that when the time comes.”

They were quiet then, nuzzled into each other, a huge bodybuilder dwarfed somewhat by the most muscular man to ever walk the surface of planet earth. “There’s one further thing,” Mo said eventually. Quietly.

“What’s that?”

“Well, the protections I placed on you, they’ll last your whole life. That was great, I wasn’t sure they’d allow that. But they went one step further, and let me keep one little bit of power.”

Adam felt his cock throbbing. He had a sense of what Mo would say next. But he wanted to hear it from his own firm, beautiful lips. “What’s that?”

Mo leaned in, his lips brushing Adam’s ears, just about the only part of the muscle freak’s body that wasn’t hypertrophied in some way. He whispered and shivers of carnal delight raced through Adam’s entire 358 lbs body, his ripped-to-shreds muscles twitching and dancing with anticipation. 

It was a very simple sentence that Mo said. “I can make you even bigger,” he breathed. “So. Much. Bigger.” 
 

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I like Paradiso best, deffo. It's at the limits of being kitschy but still cute :) and of course the so much bigger drives me wild :D

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