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The Weatherman. Part 9, added 2/29/24


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The barn turned out to be Sam’s favorite place to train. He could do two hours of squats without having to worry about hogging the squat rack. He kept buying more weights, and used them to keep increasing his previous record. He challenged himself to squat until he puked, and then he could go outside and wretch his guts out without bothering anyone. Afterwards, his abs would spasm from the exertion, and his absurdly pumped legs would barely function.


He’d hobble over to the Subzero refrigerator he and Kurt had installed. The only thing inside it was shelves full of antique glass bottles filled with the herbal concoction from Kurt’s ranch. Sam would down a bottle, then go over to the mattresses and crash out for a twenty minute power nap. When he would wake up, his legs were more pumped than ever, but they were no longer sore. He’d feel the veins that snaked down his quads, feeding his muscle. Then he’d grope his own ass and enjoy the hardness of it, the size of it. He swore his butt was gaining an inch of muscle with every leg workout.


One day when he woke up from his nap, Kurt was standing over him. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” Kurt said. 


Looking up at the towering, strapping sportscaster from the mattress on the ground was disorienting enough, but as Sam’s eyes focused, he saw the Kurt was holding something by his side. Something big.


“I brought you a Valentine’s gift,” said Kurt proudly. He was holding a thick rope. A rope he had used to hogtie Hank with and bring him to the barn. The big arm wrestler had an apple stuck in his mouth and looked like a pig, ready for the spit. Kurt was holding him off the ground like a gym bag.


“Oh my god, you didn’t kidnap him, did you?” Sam asked, sitting up.


“Well, he didn’t exactly want to come voluntarily. So I used a little…coaxing. I decided to hogtie the little hog farmer.” He started lifting Hank up and down by the rope, using the 240lb meathead for one-arm curls. Hank was trying to talk, but the apple was wedged in deep, so all he could do was make grunting sounds. He did sound like a pig. He kind of looked like a pig too, with his pug nose, beady eyes, and ruddy, rounded face.


Kurt walked over to the boxing ring and tossed him in. Kurt climbed in after him, and started untying him. “Come on in, I wanna watch you play with your new toy,” he said to Sam, as he tossed the rope aside and stripped Hank’s clothes off. Hank stood up, buck naked, a big bloated sack of over-roided muscle with a big set of pig nipples capping his broad chest. He took the apple out of his mouth.


“I’ll get you for this,” the naked arm wrestler hissed.


“Kurt, he’ll go to the police,” said Sam, walking over to the ring. 


“Nah,” scoffed Kurt. “What’s he gonna tell them, that the big scary man took him away for a boxing match? That’d be great for his reputation as a tough guy arm wrestler. Besides, he dropped out of the competition, claims his arm is injured, so what else does he have to do with his time? He didn’t come all the way from Georgia just to wank in his hotel room.”


Sam climbed into the ring and looked Hank over. He had to admit, he was loving the idea of sparring with the cocky bloated juice head. Sam had been honing his skills, sparring with Kurt, and some guys from his gym. He discovered that his reflexes were faster, his punches more accurate, than when he was in college. And his strength, well, he had three times the strength he’d had back then, plus a hundred pounds more muscle to back his punches with.


“I tell you what,” he said to Hank, “you do ten minutes of bare knuckle sparring, and I’ll take you back.”


Hank looked at the handsome face across from him, and decided he could mess that pretty boy face up real good. All his years of training for arm wrestling, and he had forearms that were bigger than most guys’ biceps. One good punch, and he could smash his nose in. Then he’d go after the big freak that kidnapped him.


Hank put up his fists and said, “Ok, deal.” But then Sam pulled off his oversized hoodie and tossed it out of the ring. “Fuck,” said Hank, his eyes widening, as he soaked in the vision of Sam’s 280lbs of shredded, veiny muscularity. Sam made his muscles ripple up and down, the fibers popping out all over, tight as harp strings.


“Jeezus fuck,” said Hank, backing up. But before he had a chance to flee, Sam was on him, jabbing him with rapid fire body shots. Sam’s fists landed on the bulky farm muscle until Hank’s thick torso was welted and red. 


“Hit him back, Champ,” encouraged Kurt, and Hank took a couple of wild swings which Sam dodged like he had Spidey sense. knocking Hank off balancing and down to the mat. Sam helped him up, then let him hit him with some body shots, but Hank’s thick arms were no match for the armor plated torso of the musclebound weatherman. Especially his abs. Repeated blows to Sam’s midsection produced no results for the hapless arm wrestling champ. Then Sam returned a series of punches to Hank’s face, not hard enough to break bone, but hard enough to sting. Hank tried to block the blows with his hands, but Sam just maneuvered around him and kept jabbing, disorienting the younger man. Overwhelmed by the blows, Hank’s hands fell, and Sam kept jabbing, one stinging punch after another, until Hank’s knees gave out and he crumpled to the mat. 


They had been sparring for less than three minutes. Sam hadn’t even broken a sweat, but it was pouring off Hank and puddling around him. 


Sam knelt down beside him. “You ok, dude? You don’t look so good.” Hank was trying to remember where he was. Kurt threw a towel into the ring, and Sam started toweling Hank off. Hank’s body odor was rank, but it was turning Sam on. And as Sam rubbed down Hank’s balls, Hank groaned. He felt confused. Normally he would clock a guy for touching him anywhere, let alone his balls, but this was turning him on. Sam ran the towel down Hank’s ass crack, and Hank groaned more. Hank’s butt was furry, broad, and solid. A concrete block of ass. No one had ever touched it before, and it was making him bone. Sam tossed the towel aside and started massaging Hank’s hard glutes with his hands. 


“This is not my scene,” Hank said unconvincingly.


“Ok,” said Sam. “Then how about this?” Sam rammed his index finger into Hank’s hole.


“Oh fuck,” said Hank, his sphincter muscle clenching around Sam’s finger. Sam pushed in deeper and started flicking Hank’s prostate. Hank almost came. “Oh my fucking god,” he gasped.


“Yeah? You like that? You want me to keep going?” asked Sam. 


“Oh fuck yeah. Go. Go go go.”


“If you like this, I got something that’s gonna make it feel even better,” said Sam, whipping out his dick with his free hand. As he stroked himself hard, Hank looked back and saw the size of it. His sphincter twitched with  fear and anticipation. He didn’t understand what was happening to him, but Hank flopped his arms over the bottom rope of the boxing ring, and the formerly cocky alpha presented himself to Sam like a beta baboon. 


From outside the ring, Kurt had been stroking himself too, as he watched Sam enjoying his Valentine’s present. He grabbed a bottle of posing oil they used for Sam’s contest prep, and tossed it to Sam, who used it to lube his eleven inch cock. Then he proceeded to breed his Valentine, brutalizing Hank’s oversized roided ass for the next hour and a half. When he finished, Sam pulled Hank off the ropes and flipped him onto his back on the mat. He straddled his new toy. Hank’s breath smelled like Red Bull and Skoal, neither of which Sam liked, but he found himself wanting a taste. He leaned down and kissed the battered redneck on the mouth. 


Hank couldn’t believe he was being kissed by a huge muscle dude and liking it so much. He couldn’t believe he just took a huge dick up his ass and liked it so much he was aching for more. His whole body throbbed in pain, but he liked that, too. He felt up Sam’s huge arms and flaring back muscles as they kissed, and he started getting hard again. All that size and power controlling him like a toy. He didn’t want it to end. And now, the massive hairy beast that kidnapped him was climbing into the ring, and headed over to them, looking like he was ready to own them both.


Best Valentine’s Day ever.

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