Zombie Muscle

[wshpmus]

This is one of my oldest stories, which was written years before The Walking Dead ever hit the tv screen.  It's still without a doubt one of my favorites and weirdest, but in a good way. Quite a few parts to it, and I'll post it one at a time...

 

Zombie Muscle- Part 1

 

 

"Would you mind repeating that?"

 

"You heard me kid, I said let's get out there."

 

"But there are at least half a dozen of those things outside, they're circling the damn building?"

 

"Yeah, no shit?  That's what they do.  And the sound of them fucking around out there is starting to piss me off."

 

"Ok, but, maybe… shouldn't we just wait till they go away.  They probably will if you just…"

 

"Grow a set of balls junior!  Those undead motherfuckers will stick around all day and all night once they get a whiff of some living shit.  You know that's how it works.  So do what I tell you and get your candy ass ready to follow me out.  It's time you started learning a thing or two.  Just how in the hell have you made it this long?"

 

"Well I didn't go marching through a pack of them for starters."

 

"No, you hid in some hole for days until you could figure out how to crawl away, or you shot your way through a couple and ran like hell."

 

"Yeah, and so what?  Like there's some other option?"

 

"Guns are for pussies," the older man stated emphatically as he rose up from the concrete floor of the warehouse and gave the palms of his hands a quick brush along his thighs.

 

The younger man watched the stranger getting up and his eyes were drawn to the black army fatigue pants he'd just wiped his hands on.  The camouflage pattern was subtle, mostly black with a dark splotchy mix of brownish shapes all over them.  Then as he looked more closely it occurred to him, that wasn't a camouflage pattern, those splotches were dried blood, a caked on layering of gore.

 

The older man grinned at him, knowing what the newbie had just figured out.  'This kid had a lot to learn', he thought to himself.  He walked over to the trembling guy and put a hand on his shoulder for a brief, reassuring moment.

 

"Hang on to your gun, if it makes you feel safer, in case any get past me.  But for now just stay behind me, and watch."

 

The young man looked over at him as he spoke, and his eyes evaluated in closer detail what had already formed the most indelible first impression.  The shirtless older man had the freakiest, shredded to the bone, muscular body he'd ever seen.  Gnarly hard muscle bulged everywhere, chiseled, etched separations cut deep between every muscle group.  The shoulder that was directly across from him looked like a bunch of bananas underneath the skin, the three delt heads so clearly delineated they stood in high relief.  It was as if the man was one of those anatomy charts of the human muscle system, sheathed in a leathery tanned skin, dirty and covered in scar tissue.

 

"Let's do this…" the bald man barked as he strode across the warehouse floor and eagerly pulled open the huge sliding door.

 

The young man clutched his rifle in terror as he watched the man from a distance, that was still too close for comfort.  The group of zombies outside the door reacted slowly to it's opening, eventually associating the noise they'd just heard with a door that was no longer there.  The two nearest the sliding door turned themselves to face the opening and as they did the older man, with practiced ease, took each one by the throat in what was clearly a lethally powerful grip.  The thick curved muscles of his triceps bulged out from the back of his arms impressively as he lifted them off their feet and applied pressure, snapping the two necks simultaneously, their heads rolling away to opposite sides from the bone crushing man.

 

He lifted both of the dead, 'undead' corpses higher and tossed them effortlessly at the other zombies moving closer.  The flying bodies knocked several others to the ground and pinned them briefly while they struggled to pull themselves out from underneath.  That allowed ample time for the bare chested stud to grab the nearest zombie by the neck and leg and press the dead man overhead several times in quick succession, building a bit of momentum, then bringing him down in a quick drop across his raised knee.  The crack of the spinal column echoed off the corrugated metal walls of the warehouse.  He tossed the third body at whatever zombies were still standing, and reached out easily for another.

 

This one he spun around and put into a choke hold under one of his well muscled arms.  He held him tight, the zombie's head crushed against his side as the captive flailed helplessly, kicking and trying to free itself.   It appeared almost comic to the younger man watching until once again a sudden surge of power snapped the neck and the cadaver's head went limp under the muscled arm.  He flung the body aside with a disgusted snarl, and spit on it's back.

 

Four were dispatched in what had only been a minute or less, and the other remaining undead continued to struggle towards him, oblivious to the fate of their cohorts.  The killing machine waisted no time and took out the other five in an equally fast and efficient manner.  He turned to look at his young new companion as he held the last dispatched body, his hand clutching the zombie's face in its vice like grip and then he applied pressure and the grotesque ghoulish head imploded, caving inward. He gestured with his head to 'come over here' and the young man slowly complied.

 

"These ones here," the blood splattered muscle freak instructed, "are done.  These couple," he said pointing, "they'll come back.  Spines not enough."  He scooped the zombie up whose back he'd snapped and held his head between the two palms of his hands.  He compressed them together and gore splattered from the cracked skull.  The body dropped back to the ground.

 

"Heads got to come off, or at least brains turned to pulp."

 

"Yeah, I know that," the young man gulped, revolted by what he'd just witnessed.

 

"Good, then you're learning.  And not a gun in sight."  The big man offered the slightest of smiles, then wiped his hands across his broad chest, wicking the blood off as best he could and flicking it down onto the floor. "Guns run out of ammo, these don't," he added with a quick nod towards his arms.

 

"One more thing," he turned and reached over towards the young man's crotch and felt it up.  "Yeah, makes me hard as a rock too."

 

"I don't…" the young guy stopped short his feigned protest.  He couldn't deny the intensity of his erection.

 

"You don't what?," the brute almost laughed.  "You don't say 'no' to me.  There wouldn't be any point to that, now would there?"

 

The powerful man's grip gave the crotch a squeeze, confirming just how stiff and primed the young guy was, then gently he pulled his arm inward forcing the kid to shuffle forward, his body now pressing against the hardened wall of muscle.

 

He could feel the heat coming off the big man's bare torso, his whole body being pressed against the enviable physique that he could not deny turned him on beyond words.

 

"I know you got it bad for me Junior, that's obvious," he bounced a big pec in the kid's face, then went on to explain.  "There hasn't been another living person with me for over three months now.  And I'll admit I was damn happy to see you coming across the parking lot today.  The first thought I had, was 'hell yeah, that's gonna be one nice fuck toy' and I was right, you will be.  Wouldn't have made one bit of difference if you were a straight boy or not, your ass is mine now.  But it didn't take more than two seconds to see that you and this cock of yours liked what you saw.  Am I right?"

 

The kid just nodded his head up and down.

 

"Am I right?," the man asked again, giving the crotch he still held another prompting squeeze.

 

"Yes Sir," came the reply.

 

"Yes Sir, what?"

 

"Yes Sir, you're right."

 

The steel like fingers released, and the young guy slumped forward with relief, his hands grabbing onto the muscled torso in front of him for support.  As he took a deep breath, recovering from the pain, he suddenly realized that he was gripping the rock hard muscular body, one hand clutching the insanely strong forearm and the other pressing against the thick chest.  His eyes examined the body he held more closely, discerning the road map of veins that ran under the paper thin skin, seeing the sinewy fiberous tissue of each powerful muscle that even in repose seemed to pulsate with lethal power.

 

"My body gets you boned, doesn't it?"

 

"God yes."

 

"Watching me crush skulls turned you on, didn't it?"

 

"Yeah,…" he stammered, "it did."

 

"Kid, you ain't seen nothing yet," the alpha male said with complete and total confidence.

 

Just hearing those words and he couldn't help himself, the already primed young dick released it's payload.

 

The big man acknowledged the tribute by reaching a hand down into the boys shorts, swiping it across his lower belly and pulling out his sticky finger and licking it clean, then he slowly picked up the spent disciple under both arms, raising him up off the ground and holding him level with his own face.  He leaned forward and brushed his lips against a receptive mouth.  The kiss was tender and sensuous, but didn't last long.  The stud set the kid back on his feet and he reached down to start unfastening the top button of his pants, then he slid down the zipper, and his two hands began pulling down the tight fitting black pants.  The beautifully thin elongated washboard revealed defined lower abs that qualified as a true ten pack, and as the pants continued downward it was immediately apparent there were no underwear that would need to come off.   Once the pants cleared the massive columns of thigh muscle they fell to the ground and exposed the entire package.

 

The kid, watching the unveiling, forgot to breath.  The sight was beyond expectation.

 

"Holy crap," was all that he said, before he instinctively dropped down to his knees.

 

 

[OldFashioned]

One of my favorites from the old site! The contrast between the insane power this guy has and the little moments of tenderness…

[MrAlice]

You written anymore skull crushing since then?

[Wrestlejock646]

One of my favorites from the old site....did the final cliffhanger ever get resolved?

[wshpmus]

 

Zombie Muscle - Part 2

 

He was dreaming again, the same one he had so many nights.  There was a woman, pretty, long brown hair, and kids, three girls and one boy.  He dreamed about them all the time, but wasn't sure who they were.  His wife maybe, the kids were probably his, but he didn't know any of their names, or if they were for certain his family, because the images of them never lasted for long, soon they were driven from his mind by darker images, visions that gave him nightmares.  He often woke up suddenly, with a start, sometimes in a cold sweat.  This night was no exception, but when he woke at dawn he found his arms were wrapped around someone, cradling them against his chest.

 

It took awhile for him to remember, and then he did, knowing the kid who'd found his place today was now with him.  They'd had frenzied sex, the kind that only came after months of abstinence, and he'd found that he had to hold onto this younger man with a need that almost frightened him.  Human, living, breathing… a connection that had been missing.  He felt possessive, that this kid was already his property, that he was bound to take care of him, to protect him, to keep him close and safe.

 

Rays of morning light were starting to hit the mattress on the floor of the warehouse's second story office and he realized that once again he was hard.  He couldn't control his desire for the kid, and he didn't see any reason why he needed to.  Instead he turned the boy over in his arms so that they were facing each other, and he slid down easily to the kids crotch.  He pulled out the sleeping kids soft dick and took it in his mouth.  He needed it, and he needed it now.  He worked the shaft expertly, making it respond to his will, and he heard the kid moaning in a half sleep/ half awake limbo, but there was no resisting the passion of the big mans aching want for cum, and when the kid erupted he gulped it down with an almost crazed longing.

 

"What was that?," the kid mumbled rhetorically, not even opening his eyes.

 

"That was you, giving me what I want," he stated as he pulled the kid back into his arms and held him tightly again.  He stared down at his sleeping bed partner, still tired and spent from their long night and he wondered.  Should he tell this boy the secret.  Could he risk it again?  Having a partner, a true equal, it could be amazing.  But was it worth the chance.  Would he grow?  Not everyone did.

 

He held him, debating with himself, tossing the idea around in his head until he felt himself becoming restless.  It was happening.  The need to expel the energy, the aggression that built inside him, he needed to release it.  He pulled himself off the boy and left the office, pulling on some dirty underwear and his combat boots.

 

--------------------------

 

"What the hell is that noise?" the boy thought hearing the steady pounding of metal thumping.  He sat up on the mattress turning his head around, scanning the little room and remembering where he was.  He got up and as he stood he felt the floor under him moving.  He pulled on his pants and walked through the office door and down the metal staircase to the warehouse floor.  He turned back around towards the noise and saw that Sir was hanging from a steel rafter underneath the loft space, facing away from him and his arms spread far apart.  He was doing wide grip behind the neck pull ups, 12 feet off the floor.  Nothing was below him, and the boy wondered how he'd jumped up that high to grab the bar, but he was too distracted by the site of the mans working back muscles to give it much thought.  They were a vast plain of hills and valleys, peaks of bunched up muscle rising and falling with each rhythmic contraction as the heavy body rose and fell with every repetition.  He wasn't counting, he hadn't thought to, but he already knew that Sir had done a staggering number, at a steady and unchanging pace, like a perfectly working machine that knew no fatigue but just plugged away.

 

He'd just been sucked off minutes ago, and he was getting hard again watching this.  Sir's massive back, shoulders and arms, now glistened with a sheen of sweat as they worked.  He started counting reps quietly to himself, and when the number went past one hundred he wondered when this muscle machine was going to stop.  But he didn't, Sir just changed exercises as he lowered himself from a pull up, he hung suspended for a moment, then swung his legs up to where his hands were and hooked the toes of his boots over the steel rafter.  He let go of his hands now and hung upside down, then slowly and with absolute precision began to contract his long sleek abs and bend himself into a perfect letter "U", raising and lowering himself with the same bottomless pool of stamina.  He lost count.

 

Maybe after what had to be at least four or five minutes Sir bent himself up, took the bar in his hands again and unhooked his feet, then with a close grip he did chin ups with his two legs held straight outward in front of him at an exact perpendicular angle.  All this time Sir had no idea that the boy was standing behind him, watching him in utter disbelief.

But when he finally finished up the last long gravity defying set, he released his grip and dropped to the concrete floor, only to hear the sound of the boy stroking his once again blood engorged penis.

 

Sir smiled at him, pleased at the reaction he was causing, but he wasn't done yet, he'd only started to take the edge off his pent up need to exert himself.  He turned from the kid and surveyed the factory floor of the warehouse for his next toy.  The boy looked around now more closely and realized that this warehouse must manufacture or repair some kind of heavy duty oversized farm equipment.  He saw partially assembled tractors and combines, other machines he didn't know, all at a scale that dwarfed what he thought of as normal farm machinery.  When Sir walked over to a five inch thick iron bar it took him a minute to recognize it as an axle, with two enormous steel wheel housings on each end, like some ridiculous cartoon version of an Olympic barbell, exaggerated at five times the size.  The boys eyes widened as Sir went towards it as if to pick it up.  He couldn't possibly?

 

Without hesitation Sir attacked the giant bar and his skull crushing grip seized onto the thick steel shaft and snatched it over his head with a crazed exclamation.

 

"Oh fuck yes!," he screamed out and started cranking out reps with the unknown amount of iron weight.  With each press upward he grunted out a single word, " I "… "Need"… "A" … "Fucking"…. "Pump"…. then with a final burst of power he threw the huge axle across the factory floor, slamming it into a wall of steel rebars stacked randomly against a column.  The ringing of iron was deafening as the rods crashed and fell to the ground, but Sir just calmly walked over to them and picked up a bar, at least half an inch thick, maybe three quarters, and he looked straight into the boys eyes as he twisted the thing like it was made of rubber.  He flung the curly Q of steel over his shoulder, looking pissed off that it hadn't posed more of a challenge, and he walked towards an iron anvil bolted to the floor behind him.

 

"This isn't possible," the kid thought and watched in utter disbelief as Sir took a moment to study what had to be a 500 pound anvil and then with what could only be described as contempt for an inanimate object trying to defy him, he tore the enormous chunk of steel from the ground, snapping the bolts off like they were paperclips and ripping the anvil away from the ground.  He tossed it in the air and grabbed the pointy end with one hand, then holding it like a bouquet of flowers in a clenched fist he extended his arm completely straight out, locking eyes once again with the kid and then releasing his grip and letting the anvil fall to the floor where it crushed through the concrete slab and embedded itself at a cock eyed angle.

 

"Holy mother fucking christ." the boy said simply.

 

Sir's pumped up body didn't move, it was as if his muscles were still twitching with pent up aggression that still hadn't been released.

 

He spoke, "Time to find us some more zombies."

 

The boy watched as Sir headed straight for the big sliding door, knowing he was about to yank it open and go out on a little hunt.

 

"You coming?"

 

The kid shook his head 'no' emphatically.  This time, the big man didn't give him a hard time.

 

"I'll close the door.  You'll be safe," he stated as fact.

 

When the iron door slid back into place with a bang, the boy shuddered, it was the sound of a prison door slamming shut, like you'd hear in the movies.  Only this wasn't any movie.  This was the freakish nightmare he'd been living for the past 3 years, along with the rest of the world, or rather, what was left of it.  He stared up at the huge 20' x 20' door and was grateful for the steel.  It was like a prison here, and that door kept those things out.  In fact this entire building seemed like it had been designed for just this kind of dire scenario.  That was what had drawn him to it yesterday, when he saw it sitting isolated up on top of the hill.  It was an iron box, with only a row of small windows up on the second story at least 18' off the ground, and doors that were steel walls and with them closed it seemed impenetrable.  Not only that, the parking lot and property were surrounded by a 10' chain link fence, a second protective barrier, although when he got nearer the building yesterday he saw that sections had been torn apart.  He assumed the zombies had done that, but after seeing Sir twisting rebar like it was licorice he wondered.

 

The kid turned and surveyed the buildings interior a little more closely.  He tried to put a square footage on its size, but drew a blank, it was so vast a space.  A football field would easily fit inside, but it was probably even bigger than that.  Along the southern wall he saw another entire second story level, far longer and more expanse than the little office he'd slept in last night.  He walked over to it and climbed the staircase up.  The first part of the room had large work tables, drafters plans littered on top, and he noticed the sky lights now that ran all across the ceiling of the building and flooded the entire structure with natural daylight.  Past the tables were office desks, several rows, and smaller rooms along the back wall.  Printer, xerox, paper storage, all your typical office supply.  Further down a conference room, and piled in half the room were huge bottled water containers. Next to those he saw boxes stacked to the ceiling, and reading the sides they told him the contents, food rations.  He ran for the nearest box and tearing into it pulled out the foiled military style packets.  Food, and water, it was the most pressing need, and he ate ravenously.  Had he eaten at all yesterday, he had to think?  He'd had some cold canned vegetables from the last of his stores before he'd set out.  The last of his food supply had been his only reason for traveling at all.  Now, seeing the mountain of food boxes he allowed himself a moment, an internal sigh of relief.

 

After he ate, he explored some more, and discovered the bathrooms.  Another luxury, and even though there was only cold running water, it was still incredibly welcome.  He washed himself as best he could in the sink, lathering up with the handsoap and trying to wash the bulk of grit and grime away as best he could.  He wondered if they used hazardous chemicals at all down on the floor, and thought there might be a first-aid emergency shower.  He made a mental note to remember to look for one later.

 

A sound outside made the boy turn to look out one of the windows. He already guessed, before he looked, what was causing it, and one glance across the back lot confirmed it.  Sir was there, near some outbuilding surrounded by waist high steel drums that were stacked on palettes.  The kid knew they weren't empty, he was just sure of that by the way Sir picked them up, his muscles compressing in as he hoisted the tremendously heavy missiles up over his head into a launching position and then hurled the half ton drum effortlessly down the hillside into a small zombie horde that was already partially decimated by previous projectiles.  He felt his cock once again stiffening in his pants at the sight.  The pure animal brute strength, the extraordinarily muscled body in just some underwear and black combat boots, the unmatchable display of power and all of it right there, in one man.

 

The kid turned from the window, his dick was raw, he couldn't take another stroke session and in all likelihood Sir would be ready for another round at anytime, and he wasn't the kind of man to take no for an answer.

 

There was still another long row of smaller offices continuing along the south wall.  The kid took his time now, going room by room.  Here he started to find the remnants of all the other people who must have shared this space after the plague began.  Some rooms looked like they were shared, twin mattresses sitting on office desks, maybe kids had slept there?  Other rooms looked like one person had holed up inside, the bigger ones might have had random groups or families.  It was hard to tell much, there wasn't a lot in the way of personal items and everything that was there had a layer of dust on it.  The boy sat down on one king size mattress because a framed photo was sitting on the corner of the bed.  He had to brush the glass clean to see the picture, but it was a nice family portrait, the kind you'd get at Sears or Walmart with a cheesy background, but on it a husband stood smiling, his hand on his wife's shoulder, kids standing all around them.  The boy smiled, briefly remembering his own lost past, then he set the picture back down, seeing an entire photo album sitting on the floor beside the bed.  He picked it up and started thumbing through the pictures.  A birthday party, a family vacation, a kid on a water slide,  close ups of each child, the parents with heads together behind a table grinning at a big cake in front of them.  The next few pages showed dad was a marathoner, his pale skinny little body in a pair of running shorts, a number pinned to his back.  The finish line, with a banner across the street naming the race and showing the date, three years past.  The kid flipped the page and looked at the dad, standing proudly with his 'finishers' medal held to the camera, and that was when the album fell to the ground.

 

The kid stood up and ran from the room, confused.  The album lay in the dust on the floor, the photo facing up was the thin little man, narrow shouldered, bony chest, nerdy wire rim glasses askew, a hundred and twenty pounds on a good day.  It was a  photo of Sir.    

 

 

[portamivia]

This is really good. And I think I remember this story! 

[Dodger]

This story always had an interesting premise, glad to see it resurfaced. Was it ever completed? 

[wshpmus]

It was planned as a trilogy.  The middle part is complete.  There was a sequel and a prequel that is outlined but was never written.  I wasn't getting much feedback when it was first posted, and a lot of negative comments that surprised me since I thought it was pretty original and interesting... maybe this go round I'll get back to those other two sections.  Meanwhile here is Part 3, where the story really gets interesting!

 

 

 

Zombie Muscle - Part 3

 

 

"Where the fuck are you?!," Sir yelled it again, the sentence echoing off the steel walls of the warehouse.

 

The kid didn't answer, he hadn't said a word for the last half hour of Sir's hunt.  After finding the album he'd searched for a place to hide, to be alone, to think.  Kind of an odd thing to do, he realized, for someone who had spent so much time alone in the last weeks, but he really did need to wrap his head around all this.  He'd been thrilled to find this hilltop fortress, and someone alive, living, breathing, it seemed like salvation.  Food, shelter, companionship.  His own supplies had dwindled to almost nothing, he'd nearly run out of ammunition and hadn't been able to turn up any more, and without that, without a usable rifle for protection he wouldn't have lasted much longer.  Then there was Sir, not just another person, not just a man, but this unbelievably capable protector.  He wasn't just human, he was superhuman.  And as crazy as that sounded he couldn't deny what his own eyes told him.  But he was frightened.  Sir was a killing machine, with what could only be described as a deranged relish in taking out zombies.

 

"Kid, where the hell are you?  I know you didn't leave this building."

 

He had wanted to.  When he saw that photo of Sir, a nerdy little man that probably couldn't punch his way out of a paper bag, he wanted to fling open a door and run like hell.  What the hell had happened to change him?  What could possibly do that?  It wasn't physically possible for a body to grow like that.  And his wife, his kids, was he just some repressed closet case that never cared about them and fought his own gay urges, and now that they were probably dead he could act on his real orientation?  But that didn't make sense, the guy was a sexual freak, at least as far as he could tell in the last eighteen hours.  How could he have ever been straight?

 

"Kid, don't make me mad," Sir called out again.  "I'll fuckin' tear this place apart if I have to."

 

"No, don't do that."  On the factory floor the door to one of the partially built tractors opened.  "I'm here."

 

"Why the hell you hiding kid?"

 

"Please stop calling me kid.  I'm 22."

 

"Yeah, and that makes you a kid to me.  I've got twenty years on you."  Sir looked up at the boy sitting on the edge of the seat.  "What's up?  Why're you in there?  Why weren't you answering me."

 

"I'm afraid of you," he answered both simply and honestly.

 

Sir raised an eyebrow, as if to say, 'oh'?   "Afraid?", he asked.

 

The kid just nodded.

 

"Ok, I get that.  I can be a little intense,"  he said, absent-mindedly wiping some bloody grime off his thick chest.  "But I'm not going to hurt YOU.  Just the opposite kid.  I'm gonna take care of you, I promise you that."

 

"I believe you.  I know you can, I've seen that.  You kick ass on a level I can't quite fathom."

 

"Nothing wrong with that little man.  It's a fucked up world, and I'll take care of you, I want that.  Nobody..., not anyone of those lifeless things is going to touch a damn hair on your head."

 

The kid nodded, solemnly, thinking about that.

 

"What happened to the others here?," he asked.  "There were a lot of people living in this place."

 

"They didn't…." Sir paused, needing to rephrase what he was about to say.  "They're gone now, they didn't make it."

 

"But why didn't you protect THEM?"

 

"I would have,"  he hesitated.  "I wanted to.  I wasn't always this…"  he stopped.

 

"Always what?"

 

"Nothing.  You know what it's like outside.  Not everyone can survive living in this fucked up world."

 

"You weren't always this muscle freak, where you?"

 

Sir, at least for a split second, looked almost hurt by the question, then just surprised.

 

"You like all this big muscle, who you trying to fool.  It turns you on so much you can't stand it."

 

"Yeah, it does.  I didn't say that it didn't.  Your the hottest, wet dream fantasy I could ever have friggin' imagined, but that didn't answer my question."

 

Sir stepped up on the running board of the tractor and pulled himself up beside the kid.  "No, I wasn't always like this," he whispered, taking the kids hand and putting it on top of his right arm as he flexed his biceps under the boys small hand.  "My arm was a pathetic little stick."  He lifted the kid's hand off and kissed the palm tenderly, then ran it down the bricks of his long abdomen.  "These didn't exist either, not like this, not this hard and cut in stone."  He put the hand on one of his meaty lats then flared it out dramatically, feeling the young fingers  instinctively gripping the impressive mass of muscle.  "My back was tiny, as small as yours, and now this is what it is.  No, I wasn't always built like this, I wish I had been.  If I was, those people living here with me wouldn't have died.  Not one of them.  This man I've become, this freak, is gonna keep us both alive.  I promise you that."

 

"Yeah, I believe that.  But how.  How did you get this huge?"  The boy asked, fondling the flared lat muscle uncontrollably, but still wanting an answer.

 

"You don't want to know."

 

"Yes, I do."

 

"No, trust me," Sir tore off his underwear and threw it to the ground, his enormous cock released and pointed towards the boy.  "You don't want to know."

 

They fell into each others arms and back along the leather seat, Sir's heavy body crushing the kid down into the foam and springs.  "I need you," Sir offered it as an explanation and guided his stiff member into the kids willing ass.  The tractor shook and the conversation ended.

 

Until the sex was over.  Then the kid finished were they had left off, and stated.  "I still want to know."

 

----------------------------

 

"I said NO!," Sir yelled.

 

"If it'll make me grow, I want to."

 

"No, it's too risky.  It doesn't always work, I've told you.  It could kill you."

 

"I've thought about it.  For weeks.  That's all I've done is think about it!"

 

"I'm not chancing it.  I can't lose you.  End of discussion."  Sir spread his arms out wide, flexing his entire upper torso, lats wide and flared, muscles tensed and looking huge and lethally powerful, as always.  He knew the boy could never resist when he showed off.  It was his secret weapon and one he loved to use.

 

"When you fucking do that I want it even more than ever!  Stop it god damn it."

 

"What?  Stop this.  Just this?," Sir was raising his thick forearm up, fist bunched up and clenched making all the veins in his bowling pin shaped lower arm bulge across the surface of his skin.  "That doesn't make you hard does it?"

 

"You fucking cock tease whore," the kid pulled the forearm up against his hard dick, feeling the hard muscle fibers along the sensitive surface of his cocks underside.  Sir rippled the muscle and the kid felt the cum in his balls churning, ready to explode at any second.  Sir knew it, and like the spunk lover he was bent over to swallow the kid whole and milk him dry, his warm mouth pumping out more than the kid ever dreamed he could produce.

 

"God damn why are you so good at that."  It was a statement, not a question.

 

"You know why."

 

The kid smiled, and answered.  "Yeah, I guess I do.  I forgot."

 

"How could you ever forget something like that?  I believe you said it was the most revolting thing you'd ever heard in your life."

 

"No argument there.  It is."

 

"And you still want to do this?," Sir asked for the hundredth time.

 

"It's all I can think about."

 

"But you've seen me do it now.  You know how gross it is."

 

"That's the understatement of the year.  Make that century.  But I remember when I was a kid, an actual kid, listening to some meat head bodybuilder talking about doing steroids and growth hormone and all that crap, and I think he said, 'I'd drink donkey piss if it made me grow.' And I thought to myself, he's right, if I knew it would make me grow I'd do it too.  In a heart beat."

 

"If it kills you, I'm not going to be able to go on."

 

"It won't kill me.  I know it.  Trust me.  I want this.  I want to change, to get bigger, to be like you."

 

"Fuck, I must love you.  Alright.  Let's do this."  Sir got up and pulled the kid up after him.  "Time for you to suck some zombie dick."

 

---------------------------

 

Sir slid the big warehouse door shut behind him, and held the struggling zombie around the neck in his vice like grip.

 

"This one is good, he's old, the potency of his spunk isn't as strong as a young one's would be.  If your body is going to tolerate the stuff, better to test it on the easiest dose to take."

 

The kid was staring at the decayed gray face that was looking at Sir's powerful arm that held him fast.  It's rotten flesh hung off in sections, the eyes clouded milky white, a gurgling choking noise spurting from the mouth.

 

"Oh god, I must be crazy to do this."

 

"Yeah, you are.  I've been trying to tell you that," Sir agreed.  "It's not too late to back out."

 

"No.  I'm tired of this crap.  Living in constant fear.  If I have even a chance of being like you…  I'm taking it."

 

Sir knew he would.  He pulled a rag of burlap off the floor and covered the zombie's head with it.  "That should help."

 

"Not really," the kid was still making a face of disgust.

 

Sir used his other hand to pull the old zombie dick out of the ragged pants.  It flopped out, uninvitingly, and the kid winced.  "I must be insane," he said as he took a deep breath and bent over, taking the withered gray cock in his mouth with his eyes tightly shut.

 

A few seconds passed and the kid spit it out and pulled back his head.  "Oh fuck me that's gonna make me hurl."

 

"I know," Sir offered condolence.

 

"How do you do it?"

 

"I'd say you get used to it, but you don't.  But once it starts working on you, changing you, you'll see.  You'll actually want it for what it does."

 

The kid nodded and went back down to work.  After a bit, he noticed the old dick start to respond.  He also noticed that when it did the zombie stopped struggling and Sir confirmed it.

 

"When you get them going, they calm down.  It's no different than any guy.  A blow jobs a blow job, even if you're fuckin' dead.  And these poor shits haven't had any in a long time now.  It's not like you see zombie's out there sucking each other off, there need for living food overrides the sex drive, but once you kick it back in they do seem to enjoy it."

 

"Mmmmmhmmmm."  The kid answered, his mouth full.

 

"You need to give it some gusto here though, this old codger could take all night."

 

The kids eyes shot open in horror at the thought.

 

"I'll help you."  Sir told him.  "Stop keeping your eyes closed.!  Open them up and focus just on me.  Look at my body while you're doing it, imagine it's my dick you're sucking on.  Stare at these big man tits you like so much.  My wide shoulders, these arms, my huge goddamn quads…  that's it baby, look at all this delicious man meat you love so much and imagine that on you.  Imagine your body growing, muscle packing itself on to that little frame of yours.  Think about how strong that zombie spunk is gonna make you and …"

 

Sir could see he didn't need to go on.  The kid had turned a half hearted blow job into a frenzied suck fest and the old boy was close to coming now.  The undead body started to stiffen even more than it normally was as it got ready to release.

 

"That's the shit baby," Sir encouraged him on.  "Milk that fuckin' zombie cum!  That motherfuckin' stuff is gonna fill you with power."  And he could see that the job was done, the kid swallowed it all with relish, and the spent corpse's body fell back looking even more dead, if such a thing were possible.  Sir pulled the bag off it's head and carried it to the door and flung it outside like a used condom, slamming the door shut after it.

 

"C'mere kid."  Sir reached out and the boy came into his arms.  He embraced him and said, "In a few minutes, maybe longer, we'll know for sure."  The kid nodded and offered a small smile.

 

"And next time, you can just give it a hand job, then go down for the payload."

 

"WHAT!  Why the hell didn't you tell me that?"

 

Sir tried to look reproached.  "Well it's better to get used to the full syphon, a hand job won't always do it.  Might as well tackle it from the start."

 

"I hate you right now."

 

"Yeah, I figured."

 

The kid slumped against Sir.  "I feel like I'm waiting for poison to take effect or something.  This is seriously fucked up."

 

"Yep."

 

"Do you know what I should expect.  Or hope to expect?"

 

"If it's bad, you'll know, you'll just start to feel sick.  That's what the others said.  If it's going to work and your body accepts the life force, the power, whatever the hell it is that's in their junk, that energy that animates a body that's supposed to be dead, well, that you'll recognize when you start to feel…"

 

"Horny?," the kid finished his sentence.

 

"Yeah, horny.  Really horny."

 

The kid smiled up at him and wiggled his eyebrows up and down.  "Oh yeah."

[boardman]

Incredible hot story

[Dodger]

Hot story with a great idea and storytelling. Here's to hoping you continue.