super-strength In Memoriam: Paul Stone (1935 - 2015)

[CardiMuscleman]

Paul Stone died on October 6th 2015 and was the first bodybuilder I spoke to online and in a manner of speaking was the person who introduced me to the idea of writing about people who were much bigger and stronger than the norm. He encouraged me, especially when he was feeling a little on the downside, due to illness and the like, to write some stories featuring him becoming bigger and stronger and so it only seems fitting that I post these stories so that other people can enjoy them as well. This first one is called "The Power of Muscle" and was written in 2014 when he was waiting for surgery for a shoulder injury and features himself and Porthos, one of his favourite strongmen in fiction

Chapter One

"Next on stage, would you please welcome a newcomer to the physique contest circuit, a man who is seventy years young and comes to us from the bodybuilding circuit where he has won numerous grandmaster and ultra-grandmaster titles over the last decade. So, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Steve "The Rockface" Stone!"

As Steve stepped on stage, something he had done several times during his bodybuilding contests, he could feel his heart pumping faster than usual. This was his first physique contest ever and despite having twelve weeks of the hardest competition preparation he had ever had he was still remarkably nervous. As he nodded to start the music for his routine, he took a deep breath and waited for the first notes to fill the contest venue. As soon as he heard it, all of his fears disappeared and he hit the required poses as if he'd been competing for decades. He finished his routine with a front lat spread and the biggest smile on his face before waving to the audience and walking off stage. As he stepped off he was given several pats on the back from both bodybuilders and physique contestants alike and as he breathed out, he went into the locker room. He went into one of the toilets and took off his shorts to reveal a nine inch member that was already hardening. He played with it with his fingers and felt his pulse and breathing quicken. He knelt down and started to rub his member. Within moments, a large red object had replaced his member and he was breathing hard. He would dearly have loved to shout his feelings but knew that would not be appreciated so closed his eyes and imagined himself thrusting his member into several muscle heroes from fiction. He-Man, Hercules, Conan the Barbarian and his own personal favourite, the strongest of the Musketeers, Porthos.

He gasped as he opened his eyes and gritting his teeth huffed and puffed and moaned gently to himself as streams of "musclejuice" as he called it shot out from his member and into the toilet bowl. After several moments, he took a deep breath and relaxed against the door to the toilet. He watched as the white liquid sank slowly and chuckled to himself.

"Well, Porthos, old buddy" he said, slapping his member, "that's a good morning's effort!"

Steve had always fantasized about the Musketeers. As a child he had read their stories and been taken by the feats of strength demonstrated by Porthos, least of all his final act that secured his place in history as a living titan, holding up a collapsing cave so that a fellow Musketeer could escape. This fascination carried on throughout his life. It's what made him sign up for gym class in high school, sign up to take sports class in college and what made him join every gym within days of moving home. When he got connected to the internet he was amazed at how many other people were inspired by the Musketeers and would often read stories about them that other people had written. It was whilst trawling through an online message board that he found a story called "Porthos, The Mighty Member" and intrigued printed it off and read it that night. Even before he'd got halfway he was hard as nails and gritting his teeth trying his hardest not to arrive lest he woke his wife. It was the most stimulating thing he'd ever read and it had an effect on him as the following day in the gym, he benched more than he had ever done before. It was this display of strength that prompted the gym owner to suggest he take up bodybuilding and the reason why his member had been nicknamed "Porthos". Indeed, even though he'd just arrived he was reading the latest piece of Musketeer porn on his smartphone.

"Porthos flexed his mighty muscles in the face of the Countess who squeezed his rod. The Musketeer moaned with pleasure as..."

"Yo, Steve" shouted a voice breaking into Steve's concentration.

He looked up and saw his training partner who was entered in the novice bodybuilding class.

"You're up, mate!" he said, "Because you're the only ultra-grandmaster physique contestant you're through to the overall which is on stage next!"

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please give it up for the Men's Physique Classes!"

As Steve and the other class winners walked on stage the audience cheered and whistled with some people holding up banners saying "Flex for me!” As Steve turned, he smiled and hit a front lat spread before relaxing and waiting for the results.

"In third place, give it up for our ultra-grand master Steve Stone!"

Steve stepped forward and bowed, as if he was doffing his hat, and collected his prize. As he stepped back the master's class winner shook him by the hand and said "Next year second, eh?"

After the overall physique prize was given to the winner of the heavyweight physique class. Steve was expecting a pose down but was surprised by what happened next.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, as you know we are being streamed live online via Bodybuilding.com and so we have another award to give. The OMG award for the physique contestant that got the most likes on Facebook. It was a very close run thing but the winner is Steve Stone!"

Steve stepped forward and was presented with a cheque for $1,000 and an extremely large airline ticket.

"Yes, that's right. Steve has just won $1,000 and a week's holiday to the home of bodybuilding. Venice Beach, Los Angeles!"

[CardiMuscleman]

Chapter Two

Porthos was in a foul mood. It was just coming up to Christmas in the year of our Lord 1634 and the winter had already lasted four weeks leading to the Seine being frozen over, at least two feet of snow on the ground and the temperature remaining stubbornly below the freezing point of water and it was all too much for him to bear. He heaved the lying snow off a bench near the river, sat down and humphed. He found a large rock under the snow and threw it towards the river, but instead of cracking the ice and sinking it bounced, not once, or even twice, but five times in total and landed the other side of the river infuriating Porthos even more. He hated the winter with a vengeance.

“Of all the seasons” he grumbled, wrapping a cloak around him, “why does winter have to the longest!”

He always hated the winter as it severely impacted on his training. As soon as the nights started to lengthen, he knew that there would come a time when it would be too cold to train in his dungeon. What really riled him about this winter was that it happened six weeks earlier than normal. Even now, in the time it took him to carry the boiling water to the dungeon it had gone cold and on the one occasion that it was still warm by the time he’d finished his workout and was looking forward to being doused with water, a massive block of ice hit him square in the stomach and shattered.

“It’s not fair!” he roared and stamped his feet on the ground, causing the snow on the bench to slide off.

As a result, Porthos’s mood was less than amicable, demonstrated just that morning when so bored rigid with the cold he launched himself at Athos and shouted “Wrestle me, fatty!” and had to be dragged off Athos by several Musketeer cadets. As a result he was dismissed from Musketeer Headquarters and was forced to wander the streets of Paris. He lay down on the bench and grumbled.

“Why do we have to have a winter?” he moaned, “It’s not fair. I want to push myself, I want to feel my chest pound, and I want to feel my lungs explode, I want to be warm!”

As he grumbled, he remembered the last time he was truly warm. He didn’t entirely understand how it happened but he had managed to travel into the future and met a man called Steve. He, like Porthos, loved to push himself and the two spent a very enjoyable week pushing them harder and harder. As Porthos remembered, he placed his hand inside his breeches and started to rub. As he did a sense of warmth flowed through him and for the first time in nearly a fortnight he took off his cloak.

“Mmmm” said Porthos, remembering, “Steve”

Steve always liked to train in the nude, just like Porthos, and having demonstrated strength that whilst not a match for the giant, Steve and Porthos had wrestled until they were covered in sweat, lifted rocks at a local river and even had spent several nights in the same bed pushing them to the limit. The more Porthos remembered, the more he rubbed. The more he rubbed, the warmer he got and the warmer he got the more clothes he took off. Soon he was sitting there wearing only a loincloth and breathing hard. He closed his eyes and rubbed as hard as he dare, causing his loincloth to rip to shreds. As he started to moan and groan, his mind was made up.

“I’m….I’m….I’m….COMING!” he roared and as the giant shot off a stream of white liquid from his body he disappeared.

A few moments later, a member of the Cardinal’s guards walked along the Seine wrapped up against the bitter cold. Suddenly, he slipped and fell hard on his bottom. As he struggled to his feet, cursing the ice that he had slipped on, he noticed a pile of clothes left on the bench. Examining them, he instantly recognised them. They were the clothes worn by the mightiest of the Musketeers, Porthos. He looked around with fear. A naked Porthos, even in the coldest winter on record, was a frightening prospect, but he couldn’t see him anywhere. Suddenly, he heard a noise behind him and saw a rock on the far side of the Seine sink disappear below the ice. As it did, he knew what he had to do and so gathered all the clothes and raced back to the Cardinal’s office with news that would secure his promotion. Porthos, the scourge of the Cardinal’s Guards was dead.

[CardiMuscleman]

Chapter Three

“Flex those pecs, man. Flex them hard!”

Steve smiled as he hit a most muscular pose for the umpteenth time and the fan snapped the pic on his smartphone.

“Oh, man!” he said, clearly aroused at the sight, “that is so going to be my wallpaper!”

Steve didn’t mind all this attention in the slightest. He’d only landed in Los Angeles that morning and arrived in Venice just after lunch and had already clocked up some hundred pics on various cameras and smartphones and he hadn’t even got to Muscle Beach yet. As he walked off in his training shorts he chuckled to himself thinking what would have happened if he had entered physique contests at the get go instead of bodybuilding contests.

“Yo, man!” came another shout, “barn door lats!”

Steve stopped and did a back lat spread as the person behind him moaned. Indeed Steve was starting to get hard himself from all the attention and after signing the picture that had been taken took to Twitter and said “Thanks for all the attention, guys, but please, I am on holiday #musclehols” which instantly garnered several hundred likes on Facebook and fifty retweets. As Steve arrived at his lodgings for the week, he closed the door and heaved a sigh of relief.

“At last!” he said, as he dropped his shorts, “freedom!” and slapped his now nine inch member.

The lodgings provided as part of the contest prize could almost be described as a bodybuilder’s home from home. The living room was nice and big with a massive full length mirror. Steve stepped in front of it and moaned as he hit a front bicep pose and chuckled as his member twitched. He gently patted it and said “Soon” before looking at the rest of the room. The entertainment centre was fully stocked with Blu-ray’s of every muscle movie produced during the last fifty years from Steve Reeves as Hercules to modern day films like Captain America. As he looked at the titles, his member twitched again. “Oh, yeah!” moaned Steve thinking of the hours of entertainment he was in for watching muscled heroes flexing their muscles, pitting their strength against villains or indeed becoming even more muscular. Deciding that he needed to relieve himself he made his way to the bathroom and was amazed at the size of everything. There was a bath that looked more like a hot tub and a shower unit that was entirely open save for a curtain that was closed. Steve’s mind went into overdrive as he imagined his friends in the hot tub watching him shower and flex. His member reacted to the fantasy and started to dribble.

“Alright, Porthos” chuckled Steve, “you win!” and with that opened the curtain of the shower to reveal the largest back he had ever seen. Stepping back in amazement he tripped and landed in the hot tub as the back expanded and started to turn. Steve gawped as the back turned into the most massive side he had ever seen with definition that was so impossible that his member started to dribble even more. The side became two massive pecs with a gap between them that you could put a camera between. They dropped down to a six pack that belied the mass of muscle above it and that then dropped down to the thickest quads Steve had ever seen, but what really grabbed his attention was the longest and thickest member he had ever seen. Even though it was flaccid it was at least seven inches long and as thick as his, which was now losing the battle not to react. The giant member he was watching twitched and sent Steve over the edge.

“I’M CUMMING!” he roared and a stream of cum shot high into the air before landing on the giant’s chest. The giant moaned and rubbed the juice into his thick chest and for the first time, Steve could see his face.

“No!” he said, staggering to his feet, “It’s not. It can’t be!” He got out of the hot tub and walked to the giant who had a huge grin on his face.

“My lord?” he smiled, as he picked Steve up and bear hugged him.

“PORTHOS!” said Steve as his member shot again and within moments both men were shooting, moaning and hugging as Steve’s fantasy muscle hero and Porthos’ best friend were reunited again.

[CardiMuscleman]

Chapter Four

As the sun rose over Los Angeles, it streamed in through the bedroom in Steve’s apartment and gently woke him up. He smiled as he found himself lying on top of Porthos, both men completely naked. He watched as Porthos snored gently, his chest heaving as his lungs filled with oxygen fuelling his mighty muscles and member which despite the previous evening’s activity (which had consisted of watching muscle movies and wrestling) was still nice and big. He gently moved so as not to disturb the giant and went to the shower. Washing off the night’s exertions, Steve moaned as he remembered being inspired by the movies and Porthos’s commentary into lifting the giant in a squat. Despite doing only one rep, his quads were still pumped and he flexed them in the morning light before drying himself off and then made six protein shakes. Two for him, one to be had for breakfast, and four for Porthos. Today was the main day of his prize, a free gym session at the home of bodybuilding Gold’s Gym and as he was entitled to take a guest, he thought it only fair that Porthos was at the top of his game. As he downed his breakfast, he gently flicked the giant’s nipples which caused him to moan.

“Behold” he mumbled, “the power of the living titan” and gently caused his pecs to bounce.

“Ooooh, man” moaned Steve as he watched the demonstration of muscle control and gingerly moved in to squeeze them as hard as he dare. Placing a finger and thumb either side of them, he took a deep breath and squeezed. Porthos moaned again and the flexing quickened. Steve applied more pressure and slowly the giant’s eyes opened, his mouth open as he moaned.

“Good morning, you muscle god you!” smiled Steve as he let go of the giant’s nipples, “care for some breakfast” and he poured a protein shake into the open mouth of the giant casually flicking the nipples that stood out a good three inches from those mammoth pecs. Porthos couldn’t speak because of the shake but winked in appreciation at the fuel he was being provided with.

With both musclemen suitably fuelled, they decided to walk from the apartment to the gym. It was a decision that although on the spur of the moment was inspired. Both dressed in muscle shirts, everyone stopped and did a double take as they passed. Within moments a new trend was developing on Twitter with tweets such as “OMG! #Musclegod at Venice, come and look” and “#Musclegod taking off shirt” and one tweet which simply read “#Musclegod take me!”. In fact so much online buzz was being created by the two that they were recognised the moment they stepped inside the iconic building.

“Ah” said the gym instructor, “so he’s the #Musclegod then?” pointing to Porthos.

As Steve’s guest, Porthos was asked what he would like to do. His reply of “push my strength to it’s limits!” was met by a chuckle as a man almost as tall and heavy as Porthos came out of the locker rooms.

“So” he said, gently punching the giant’s chest, “fancy yourself as a power lifter eh?” and with that he led Porthos into the bowels of the gym where the powerlifting equipment was stored whilst Steve was given the run of the bodybuilding equipment.

“Allow me to introduce myself” said the powerlifter, “my name’s James and you are?”

“Baron du Vallon de Bracieux de Pierrefonds” replied Porthos.

“Right” said James, “I’m guessing your from Europe eh? Do you have a first name?”

“Isaac” replied Porthos.

“Then Isaac it is” said James and introduced Porthos to the basics of powerlifting. The sport although based on ancient tests of strength was first demonstrated in the 1850’s and a world championship competition in the 1910’s and was made up of three lifts. A deadlift where the weight is lifted from the floor to the waist and held for a minimum of three seconds, the bench press where the arms have to lock out and the squat, the true test of strength and James excelled in all of them having been crowned the Muscle Beach champion earlier in the year with a 450 dead, 500 bench and 550 squat for a total of 1,500 all at a bodyweight of 225lbs. As James explained the sport Porthos started to grin from ear to ear. Without knowing it, he was already a past master at this sport having lifted barrels from the floor to the waist and held them for minutes at a time, lifting a cannon over his chest and supporting not one, not two but four other Musketeers when they needed to reach a high window to warn Her Majesty of a plot against her life. So when James asked how much he wanted to try for a deadlift, Porthos smiled and said “A barrel full of sand!”.

James looked at Porthos with surprise but a quick Google caused James to look at his tablet in amazement.

“Get on those scales, Issac” he said and pointed to a set of scales in the corner. Porthos stepped on and a figure of 230lbs appeared. James looked back to his tablet and stared at Porthos.

“You really want to lift the weight of a barrel full of sand for a training session?” he asked, slowly

Porthos nodded and so James showed Porthos what weights to put on the bar. When they had finished, James stood back.

“Well” he said, “if you can manage that for a three second lift, then I’ll be seriously impressed!”

Porthos stood behind the bar, took a deep breath, bent over and grabbed the bar. Taking several deep breaths he roared as he lifted the bar and held it at his waist.

“DROP IT!” shouted James after five seconds but Porthos shook his head.

“I AM A TITAN!” he roared and dropped the weight which clanged on the floor after ten seconds of torture in James’s opinion. James stared in amazement as Porthos breathed hard.

“That was incredible” he said, “how strong are you?”

“Stronger than any man in France!” he said.

“Can I…” said James with a hint of hesitation, “can I test your strength?”

Porthos nodded and James added another 200lbs to the bar. Porthos grabbed it again and roaring lifted it, this time for six seconds. James looked at the weight in amazement.

“Isaac” he said, “I want to add that same amount again. If you are able to hold it at your waist for three seconds and this was an official competition, you would set a new world record. May I have you permission?”

“Add 300!” came the reply and James quickly added another set of weights. Porthos stood behind the weight, bent down and grabbed the bar. Taking several deep breaths, he suddenly roared and lifted the weight.

“HOLD IT!” screamed James unable to control himself as he counted in his mind.

“Three, two, one, DROP!” he shouted and Porthos dropped the weight and staggered forward. James caught him from toppling over and sat him on a bench. After a few moments, Porthos shook his head.

“Man!” James said, “that was incredible. How about a rest before we tackle the bench eh?”

Whilst Porthos was dazzling James with his strength, Steve was also dazzling the entire gym with his physique. Having done the obligatory forty five minutes of cardio to get the heart pounding he’d been given dispensation to take off his training shirt and as soon as he had everyone was commenting on his muscularity. Even the bodybuilders in the gym whose biceps were bigger than his neck stopped mid curl to ask how he got to be so darned ripped.

“Good eating” he smiled, flexing his guns and then said under his breath “plus a regular regime of arriving every day!”

Porthos was now back in the land of the living and ready to tackle the bench press and after being shown how to do the lift by James, Porthos settled down with the weight that James had been using and cranked out fifty perfect reps in less than a minute. Sitting up, he bounced his pecs and smiled.

“Wow” said James, “you’re not just strong, you are super strong!” and added another two hundred to the bar. Porthos scoffed at the extra weight and did another fifty perfect reps, this time in a little over a minute. He sat up again, his chest covered in sweat and smiled.

“Let me guess?” said James, “you want to lift a cannon?”

Porthos chuckled and stood up to help James load up enough weight to match the heaviest cannon ever made in 17th century France. As James stepped back and Porthos sat down on the bench, James looked at the numbers on his tablet and gasped.

“Isaac” he said, as Porthos laid down, “Do you mind if I record this?”

Porthos sat up and scratched his head.

“You have a painter?” he asked

James explained that his tablet had a function that could record video and that he would use it to determine if the lift was valid. Porthos had no idea what he was talking about but consented and laid down as James pointed the device at Porthos. After a few huffs and puffs and slapping his chest, Porthos grabbed the bar and lowered it to his chest. The bar was so curved that James was worried that it might snap in the middle but amazingly Porthos was holding it. Suddenly, without any warning, Porthos screamed and slowly but surely the bar went up.

“I AM PORTHOS” screamed the giant, his chest burning in agony, “A LIVING TITAN!” and locked his arms out causing his biceps and triceps to start glowing red. After ten seconds of living torture, Porthos racked the weight and gasped. James was so transfixed by the sight that he nearly forgot to stop the recording and only remembered when Porthos sat up and asked him. Using the slow motion function, James reviewed the lift and confirmed that Porthos had indeed locked out.

“Isaac” he said, slowly, “you have just smashed the world record bench press. That was 1,200lbs on that bar and you made it look like child’s play!”. He then looked up and said, “So who’s this Porthos fellow then?” and Googled. As the answer came back, he looked at the giant and then at the image on the screen and back at Porthos. “Oh my God!” he said, “You’re a Musketeer!”

“The Musketeer!” replied Porthos

“I’m your biggest fan!” said James and showed him his website called “The Californian Porthos” with pictures of him taken at various Renn Faires all over the United States performing feats of strength straight out of the books by Alexandre Dumas. As Porthos watched a video of James overhead pressing a rock, he smiled.

“Wouldst thou like to feel my strength?” he smiled, and flexed his biceps right in James’s face.

“Oh my!” gasped James who fainted on the spot.

As James came to, he blinked his eyes and felt a little queasy as his view of the gym seemed to be constantly changing. First he was level with the top of the weights in the rack and then a few seconds later he was level with the Roman chair and then a few seconds later again he was level with the weights again. Not used to this movement, he gaped and let out a burp.

“Ah, thou art awake” said Porthos and the movement stopped. As James got used to his surroundings he noticed that he was sitting on Porthos’s shoulders and had been used as a weight.

“Have you been squatting me?” he asked tentatively as he jumped down to the ground.

“Aye” came the reply, “a hundred times!”

James felt faint again and grabbed hold of the squat rack to steady himself. Porthos chuckled as he did and said “Art thou impressed?”

“Impressed?” asked James, “Man, you have destroyed every powerlifting record in the book. You’ve set a new unofficial deadlift and bench and without having to do a single squat you’ve set a new unofficial total record as well!”

Porthos’s face suddenly frowned.

“Does this mean I have finished?” he asked, sounding sad

“By heck, you have!” said James and started to load the squat bar with every weight in the entire gym. Ten minutes later, the bar was loaded to a weight of 3,000lbs, nearly three times the existing world record. Porthos looked at the bar and shook his head.

“More” he said, and started squatting his own body by means of a warm up. James had to raid not only the bodybuilding free weights, but the aerobic weights as well in order to satisfy Porthos and in the end he even clambered onto the bar itself and was now dangling.

“Right” he said, breathing hard from the effort, “by my reckoning that’s five tons”

Porthos rubbed his hands with glee and entered the squat rack. He placed his hands on the bar and James wrapped his legs around the giant’s chest. As Porthos lowered himself to the ground, James felt sure that Porthos was sinking. He looked down and saw that Porthos’s shoes had sunk some three inches into the floor. Porthos then started to breath hard and James moved his legs away from Porthos’s chest. Suddenly without any warning Porthos screamed “MERDE!” at the top of his voice and shot up faster than James was expecting.

“You’re done it!” James shouted, but there was more. Porthos paused and roared again, setting off every car alarm in the car park as he raised the bar over his head and locked it out. James could hear Porthos’s heart pounding and his breathing quicken as the giant slowly counted.

“UN…DEUX…TROIS!” Porthos shouted before dropping the bar into the rack and causing it to sink six inches into the ground. Porthos stood up and flexed every muscle in his body causing his training suit to rip into a hundred pieces. As he stood there, naked and covered in sweat, James googled powerlifting and Olympic records and read.

“Porthos, Isaac, whatever your name is. You have just squatted 5,000lbs for a total of 7,400lbs more than any human has ever lifted and over head pressed that same weight which would have won you every gold medal in the recent London Olympics and, if I may say, appear to have broken the records for largest muscular chest, biceps and member!” he added gulping.

Porthos rubbed his now twelve inch member and moaned. The moans got deeper as he rubbed and the more he rubbed the longer it became. At nearly fifteen inches long the giant couldn’t stand it any more and arrived. James leapt out of the way as the bench got covered as five streams of liquid shot from the mammoth member. As Porthos gasped for breath, James gestured for him to head to the showers. But not before giving him his e-mail address and hoping that the real Porthos would assist the Californian Porthos in his training.

In the showers, Steve noted Porthos was hard and had recently arrived and asked the giant if he had any more in the tank. Porthos raised an eyebrow as Steve pointed to a collection of bodybuilders all naked like him rubbing themselves in awe of Steve’s muscularity. Seeing all that muscle brought Porthos’s member back to life and within minutes a total of over 2,000lbs of muscle had ejected enough cum to cover the floor of the shower with a two inch thick coating which was now slowly draining into the drains. As Steve slapped Porthos on the back, he smiled.

“How was that for a workout, eh?”

[CardiMuscleman]

Chapter Five

“Your plan will never succeed, you villain, I am the strongest man in the universe and I will defeat you!”

The villain sneered at the muscled hero.

“If you’re so strong” he said, wickedly, “then how come you’re trapped in my web?” and he pressed a button. A web shot out from the ceiling and pinned the hero to a wall. The hero laughed out loud.

“You think this can hold me?” he said, and using his strength started to pull the web from him.

“No” replied the villain, “I expect this to hold you” and with that he pulled a switch.

The hero screamed in agony as the web glowed.

“That’s twenty five million volts you’re enduring. No one can withstand that torture, not even you!”

“Oh, man” moaned Steve as he watched the film, “look at those muscles, bulging and flexing against that torture. Man, it’s so hot!” and with that he pulled his briefs down and started to rub his member. Porthos on the other hand wasn’t so sure.

“But that hero!” he said, “he’s experiencing great pain. I have been taught that pain is the great leveller. Not even I could endure that!”

“And that’s the point” said Steve and then moaned as he felt his member harden, “he’s not really in pain at all. He’s just a bodybuilder who is also an actor and that effect is just special effects. See, look at him now, bursting out of that web with no ill effects at all. If that was to happen to a real person, they’d be dead with seconds”

“And people enjoy watching people endure pain?” asked Porthos as Steve’s hips started to buck.

“OH, YEAH!” roared Steve as he came into his hands and rubbed the cum over his chest. “Heck, I’ve even watched people use real electricity. It’s so hot!”

Porthos was not that convinced. He, himself had been tortured by the Cardinal’s guards on the rack and whilst he’d been able to deny the Cardinal the information he was seeking, the pain he had endured needed a month to recover from. Even now, his calves still hurt if he flexed them too hard. As he watched Steve moan as the hero subjected the villain to his own medicine, he wondered if attitudes had changed over the last three hundred odd years.

Steve’s orgasm wore off and as he sat there gasping for breath he noted Porthos’s expression.

“If I can prove to you” he said, breathing hard, “that people now like to be tortured, would you at least try it? I assure you that I will not let anyone hurt you. In fact, it can be very stimulating indeed!”

Porthos knew that Steve always had his best interests at heart and agreed.

***

“Welcome to the Power Club, gentlemen. May I take your clothes please?”

Steve had found the perfect place for Porthos to see that torture in modern times was a fun thing. It was listed on the internet as “The Club for Power by Power with Power!”, however it had a very strange entry code. Not only did all the patrons have to be naked or wearing posing shorts, they also had to have their resting pulse taken.

“Thank you, sir” said the doorman, himself naked, as he looked at the device in his hand. “Sixty three beats per minute is less than seventy, you may come in!”.

Steve nodded and then Porthos had his pulse tested. After giving up using the device, thanks to the thickness of Porthos’s arms, the doorman opened a cupboard labelled “For extreme muscle” and took out a stethoscope. He asked Porthos to breath in and out until he told him to stop and counted the pulse rate. “Forty seven, sir” he said and gestured Steve and Porthos to enter. Once inside the club, Steve and Porthos sat down near the front of the stage and a waiter, not that dissimilar to a Chippendale, took their orders.

“The sixteen please” said Steve, “and my friend will have the eight!”

The waiter moaned as he took the menus and his member twitched. Porthos leaned into Paul and asked “What is an eight?”

“Eight volts” said a person standing next to him. He introduced himself as the club’s owner and knew who Steve and Porthos were already. When he was asked how, he replied, “Any man who can make five of my top stars cum in the showers of the gym is someone I need to meet!”. He sat down next to them and asked them if they would consider becoming members. Before Steve could answer, there was a drumroll and the curtains opened to reveal a wooden chair with metal restraints. A bodybuilder type person stepped on stage and hit a front double bicep pose.

“Ooh” said the owner, “I think you’ll like this. This is Dave, he’s by far our biggest star. That’s 275lbs of lean muscle on that body!”

Dave bowed to the audience and then stepped to the chair where he closed the restraints around his ankles and then attached a couple of alligator clips to his nipples and then placed a helmet onto his head. He then called out a number and a spotlight fell onto the table behind Steve. Steve, Porthos and the owner turned around and a very weedy man stood up and shouted out “75”. Dave nodded and immediately started to moan. A few moments later he called out another number and the spotlight fell on Steve.

“Call out a number greater than seventy five, but lower than two hundred” said the owner.

“115” shouted out Steve and sat down. No sooner than he had, than Dave started to breath harder and his hips started to buck. Steve turned to the owner and asked what he had done.

“Oh” replied the owner, “you increased the voltage from seventy five volts to a hundred and fifteen volts and you can see how much he’s enjoying it!”

“You’re torturing him?” asked Porthos looking at Dave with concern.

“Yes” came the reply, “although we like to call it Electrical Stimulation Entertainment!”

Porthos stood up and using the table jumped onto the stage and grabbed the helmet and crushed it in his hands. He was about to deliver a statement condemning what they were doing when Dave grabbed Porthos and attached the clips to Porthos’s nipples.

Instantly Porthos started to moan and his member enlarged to its fifteen inches. Dave rubbed the member and whispered into Porthos’s ears “Cum you giant”. Porthos couldn’t resist and instantly arrived covering Dave with cum which he smeared over their muscles to rapturous applause. As Porthos slid down Dave smiled and said “Bro, you’re a natural!”

The owner shook Steve by the hand and gave him his business card. “Meet me tomorrow at my home” he said, “and I’ll give you and your friend some complimentary sessions!”

[CardiMuscleman]

Chapter Six

“Oooh, yeah. Hurt me, Hurt me, Oooooooh!”

Porthos watched as Steve moaned and groaned as the owner of the club poured more electricity into Steve via his nipples and member. As he did, he found himself torn. Torn between knowing what torture was like having experienced it first hand and the sensation he was experiencing in his groin which his mind was interpreting as “Oooh, hurt me as well, you muscleman!”

“You want it!” said the owner, “You’ve got it. Try four hundred on for size” and he pressed a button on his remote control.

Steve’s moans now turned into grunts and his hips started to buck.

“Hurt me, Hurt me, Hurt me!” he groaned and the owner complied by doubling the voltage again. Steve’s bucking became faster and faster and he roared as he arrived sending streams of cum clear across the room and splattering across the mirrors on the far side. As the owner switched off the power and took off the clips from Steve, he moaned “Now, you, musclestud”

Porthos was known for accepting any challenge, even at the risk of him own life. He therefore stepped forward not wishing to show any fear and flexed his pecs.

“Wow” said the owner, “four inches” and with that he attached the clips to Porthos who took several deep breaths and nodded. The owner switched on the power and Porthos closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. After several moments of nothing happening he gingerly opened an eye and asked “What’s happened?”

“Sorry?” asked the owner, “what do you mean what’s happened?”

“Well” replied Porthos, “I thought I was supposed to be in agony by now?”

Steve and the owner looked at Porthos and then at the device in their hands.

“Nothing at all?” asked Steve and Porthos shook his head.

“Now?” he asked as he flicked a switch. The giant shook his head. “Now, surely?” asked the owner as he flicked another one. Porthos shook his head again. “Now?” asked Steve as he flicked a whole collection of switches.

Porthos shook his head and then raised his hand. “Yes” he replied, “I need to go to the toilet!”

“Well, this is a dud!” said the owner and handed the device to Steve who saw a button marked “Ultra”.

“What about this one?” asked Steve pressing the button

Porthos instantly screamed in agony and his member hardened in seconds. He flexed every muscle in his body to defeat the pain and started to grunt. “MORE!” he roared, “GIVE IT TO ME!” and with that he hit a most muscular pose causing the device in Steve’s hand to explode and the agony stopped. Porthos slumped to his knees and groaned, “My lord, hurt me!” before his member leaked cum all over the floor.

“Can we get that to go?” asked Steve. The owner smiled and told Steve to expect a delivery in the morning.

***

Porthos struck a solitary figure as he walked along the coastline of Muscle Beach. The sun was just rising and he stared into the distance, his mind pondering one question, should he agree to be electrically stimulated or not? It was true what Steve had said the previous day, the power surging through him made him feel strong, not just Cardinal guard bashing strong or uprooting a tree strong but stronger than strong. The dream that had caused him to wake so early where he had wrestled Hercules into submission proved that, but it was the idea that he was enjoying something that he, as part of the Musketeers, were convinced was abhorrent to human rights.

He sat on the beach in just his training shorts and sighed.

“Yo, heavily pumped up dude, something wrong, bro?”

Porthos looked up and saw a person who was extremely muscled and yet quite slender at the same time.

“Nay, my lad” he said and sighed

“Bro!” said the person, who sat down next to him, “you look like one bummed out dude. Wanna talk about it?”

Porthos explained his dilemma and the person seemed to appreciate the problems that he was explaining. He placed an arm around Porthos’s neck and smiled. “You do what you think is the best for you, dude” and patted the giant’s back “and if it makes you the strongest dude on earth, then no big!”

***

Steve had finished constructing the present that the club owner had brought and stepped back to admire his handiwork. He looked at the instructions and checked them against the finish article.

“Well” he said, “who knew that a muscle stimulation machine looked like an electric chair!”

He was about to ring Porthos on his mobile when the giant opened the door and ripped off his training shorts to reveal his twelve inch flaccid member and declared, “The giant no longer fears any torture!” and as he went to sit down in the chair smiled to Steve and said “Make me scream!”

[CardiMuscleman]

Chapter Seven

This chapter was influenced when Paul, feeling in a particularly spritely mood, filmed himself lying on his bed with alligator clips attached to his nipples and a metal rod inserted into his member as "a thank you for all the times that you have cheered me up and hoping this does the same" when I was suffering from a very bad flu in 2006

Steve smiled in reply and strapped the giant in, attaching clips to his member and nipples. As he did the giant moaned and smiled reassuring Steve that he was enjoying the whole idea. Placing a helmet on Porthos’s head Steve reassured him that all he needed to do was to scream a word that would be not be used in any usual conversation and Steve would pull the plug but admitted that he would love to see the giant really suffer and that perhaps that suffering might inspire himself to “arrive like the giant he wanted to be!”

Porthos smiled and promised that he would do his best. Steve picked up the control panel and nodded as he flicked a switch. Instantly Porthos moaned and groaned. Grunting he nodded and Steve increased the power. Porthos’s moans and groans grew louder as his member started to harden and Steve felt waves of admiration sweep over him. Increasing the power again, he stripped naked and started to rub his member. It wasn’t long before both men sported huge members and were breathing hard.

“Give me everything!” grunted Porthos and as Paul flipped another switch, he moaned, “and enjoy it with me!”

Porthos’s roar shook the house and as his member extended to an unbelievable eighteen inches long, Steve was hypnotised by the sight he was watching. He approached the giant and grabbed the member expecting to receive a massive electric shock and yet he didn’t. Rubbing it with one hand and his own in the other hand, he started to lose himself in the sensation of watching a muscleman being electrically tortured . He climbed onto the giant’s lap and settled himself down onto the giant’s member. As he settled down, he joined in the giant’s moans and groans and soon the two were grunting in unison.

Suddenly, without any warning Porthos screamed in agony and before Steve could react he too screamed. Indescribable pain shot through him and he could feel his heart pounding at inhuman speed. His mind was a whirl of muscular heroes flexing and wrestling each other naked, his own bodybuilding career and Porthos’s own superhuman strength. Unable to withstand any more he arrived. Underneath him he could feel Porthos’s own member shooting cum into him. His screams of agony combined with screams of ecstasy from Porthos slowly but surely pushed Porthos’s member into overdrive and he was slowly being pushed off. Porthos roared screaming “I AM A MUSCLEGOD!” and produced a massive burst that shot Steve off him and the two men blacked out.

Steve moaned as he came to. He felt completely drained and yet felt enthused with power. He felt stronger than he had ever felt before. As he opened his eyes his vision was a little hazy but he could make out an object on the floor in front of him. Thinking it was Porthos worshipping him, he chuckled. However, his chuckle had more bass that he recalled. As his vision cleared, he suddenly realised that he was now strapped to the chair.

“Oh, you tease!” he moaned, “you wanted me to experience your pain!”

The object in front of him moaned and turned around. What greeted Steve stunned him into silence. It was his body, covered in cum. It turned to him and moaned “My lord, I art thou!”

To describe what Steve was feeling at the time was almost impossible. Seeing Porthos in his body made him explode both literally and figuratively. As he caught his breath after shooting so many streams of cum that Porthos was covered in the stuff, he caught a glance of himself in the mirror. Porthos's massive chest, his now fourteen inch member and his thick quads pushed Steve close to the edge again, this time it was Porthos who reacted.

"Show me!" he moaned rubbing his new member in admiration, "show me my strength!"

Steve closed his eyes and roared pulling against the restraints on the chair felt his new heart pound. Breathing hard and feeling the member between his legs get even bigger, he begged Porthos to shoot to give him the extra motivation he needed. Porthos stood up, closed his eyes and felt himself getting closer and closer. With a roar he shot and Steve screamed as he broke free of the restraints and stood up flexing every muscle in his new body

[CardiMuscleman]

Chapter Eight

For the rest of the holiday Steve and Porthos pushed their borrowed bodies to the limit whether it was at Muscle Beach where even the stars of Gold's Gym were wide eyed as Steve, in Porthos's bulging body, set new bench press record after record after record or Porthos, in Steve's body, arm wrestled all comers and never lost a bout, on Venice Beach where both men were being idolised by men and women alike or whether it was in the famous Angeles National Forest where for a whole day, urged on by Porthos, Steve discovered why the Titan was called a Titan as he overhead pressed boulders as large as cars, uprooted fir trees and even managed to crush a rock the size of Porthos's fist (which then rammed itself into his former ass with Porthos begging him to "show me the power of the Titan"

On the night before the holiday was due to end, as Porthos gave his former body such a deep body massage Steve had to grit his teeth to prevent him from cumming he admitted that his fellow Musketeers would be worried about his absence saying "After all, our corps is only as strong as it's weakest member" and chuckled as he slapped his member onto Steve’s glutes.

It was therefore decided that the last full day of Steve’s holiday would be a day of pure and unadulterated muscle worship, muscle torture, electro stimulation and electro torture with the culmination being swapping brains again and returning to their former bodies.

***

As Porthos helped his former body into the chair, Steve chuckled “Make me scream in ecstasy!” and nodded as Porthos switched the device on. Instantly Steve moaned and groaned and as he grunted he nodded and Porthos increased the power. Steve’s moans and groans grew louder as Porthos’ member started to harden, breaking through the fabric of the posing shorts he was wearing and standing proud.

“Man” Steve moaned, as he concentrated on flexing Porthos’s member, “Eighteen inches of hardness, MORE!” he begged as Porthos increased the power again. As he did, he stripped naked revealing Steve’s muscular body and started to rub the member that was on display. It wasn’t long before both men sported huge members and were breathing hard.

“Give me everything!” grunted Steve and as Porthos flipped another switch, he moaned, “And enjoy it with me, so that we can swap back and endure torture beyond belief!”

Porthos approached his former body, now grunting, groaning and writhing in agonised estacy and grabbed the member. Rubbing it with one hand and his own in the other hand, he climbed onto his former bod’s bulging quads and settled himself down onto the member. As he did, he joined in the giant’s moans and groans and soon the two were grunting in unison.

“NOW!” screamed Steve, “PUSH THE BUTTON”

Porthos complied and suddenly, both men screamed as indescribable pain shot through them. As their memories began to transfer back into their respective places both men’s members started to arrive and thanks to the combination of torture, pain, agony and sexual release both men blacked out with almighty “MERDE” emanating from the mouth of Porthos and “FUCK!” from Steven’s mouth.

***

As Steven came to, his world was exceptionally blurry and it took a while for him to recover his bearings but as he did he felt instilled with a sense of strength and power he had never felt before. His member, an impressive nine inches at the best of times, was now standing proud level with the top of his abs and as it twitched Steve moaned “Fuck, eighteen inches!” and that wasn’t the only difference Steve noticed as he stood up and something sounding like metal being wrenched caught his attention. He looked down and saw that he had pulled off the restraints holding him down, a feat of strength that suggested he was at least five times stronger than he was before. As his vision cleared he moaned at the sight in front of him in the mirror. Gone was the seventy eight year old physique star, standing at 5ft 9 and weighing 160lbs and in its place was a thirty nine year old pro bodybuilder, standing 6ft 6 tall and weighing at least 200lbs for sheer, ripped muscle. As he rubbed his hands over the musculature he was mentally calculating what he was looking at and found to his astonishment he was rattling off numbers as if he knew them already.

“Mmm” he moaned, rubbing his hands over his chest, “forty inches of solid muscle and five inch nipples to boot”. He continued to explore his physique, moaning at almost every muscle, “a twenty inch waist and just look at those abs, two, four, six, eight, ten, twelve, fourteen, oh man, sixteen inch guns as well, how’s this for a ticket to the gun show eh?” he added, hitting a double bicep pose which is when his attention was drawn to his lower body. “Twenty inch quads, seventeen inch calves. Man, I am jacked, if I’m like this now, what I would like at seven feet?” and he hit a most muscular pose. As he did he felt something hit him on the head and found himself looking at the bottom of a light fitting on the ceiling. As he looked at it a thought crossed his mind “Six foot?” and sure enough the light fitting started to get further away from him. This was too much stimulation for him and he roared as he covered the mirror with the biggest load of muscle juice he had ever shot in his life. As he recovered, he moaned “Porthos, come and wrestle me!” and went to the bedroom where he found a note on the bed.

“My lord, I want to thank you for your gift. Perhaps one day we can fight together to defend our homelands from tyranny. It is such tyranny that I am having to face as I believe that the Cardinal’s guards are attacking Musketeer Headquarters. Farewell, my lord, and when you flex, think of me. Yours, Porthos, Baron du Vallon”

As Steve read the note he smiled. Porthos had clearly returned to his own time and if he had changed as much as Steve had changed, the Cardinal’s guards were in for a big surprise.

***

“My men” shouted the Cardinal at the top of his voice outside Musketeer Headquarters, “it has now been a week since the Titan known as Porthos died, the lynchpin of the famed Musketeers is now but a memory and nothing can stop us from taking our rightful place as the guard to His Majesty!”

The resounding cheers of his troops filled the Cardinal’s heart with joy. He knew that without Porthos, the Musketeers were in effect defenceless and that he could just walk into the Headquarters and remove Treville from office without anyone objecting. However as he was about to step forward, the ground started to rumble and from nowhere Porthos appeared in front of them completely naked, roaring and flexing. As the Cardinal stared in disbelief at the sight he was seeing, his guardsmen started to quake in terror.

“He’s dead”

“That’s impossible”

“Flee!” shouted a guardsman and a chain reaction soon started leaving only the Cardinal in place.

“Come back” he bellowed, “there is nothing to fear” and turned around to be faced by Porthos’s nipples level with his eyes and the giant breathing hard. Unable to comprehend what he was seeing, he turned tail and fled, Porthos roaring after him “WE ARE THE KING’S MUSKETEERS” before facing the headquarters, kneeling down and saying “My Captain, I have returned!”

As Porthos relayed his tale to his friends Aramis, Athos and D’Artangan, the younger of the friends was gently squeezing the giant’s arm and said as he concluded his tale, “Next thunderstorm, you and me!” and with that kissed the giant to show the affection that Porthos always thought he had with the newest Musketeer.

Paul was so impressed with that story that he asked me to write several more stories containing other "muscle heroes" as he called them such as He-Man, Hercules, Conan and the like which produce similar reactions to this one (in fact he even sent me a few pictures showing how hard it made him) and therefore I would like to know if I may post those stories as well with a view (if anyone would like to) turning them into a book