muscle-growth Arms Merchant

[s2mg2000]

I am not adept at descriptive writing so please consider this more of an idea for a story than a finished work.  Anyone is welcome to adapt or expand on it if they like.

 

Arms Merchant

 

Requests for private audiences were common enough but not from American weapons dealer.  The Westerner’s letter spoke in glowing terms of the Dear Successor’s vision and courage, asking with suitable humility and deference if he would consider accepting a small token of respect on the occasion of his upcoming birthday.  Even if the gift was of marginal value such a meeting could be used as propaganda his advisors thought.  The guest and his gift would, of course, be thoroughly searched to ensure no harm would come to anyone involved.

 

Chris Lansing arrived in Pyeongyang by private jet three days prior to his audience with Kim Jong-un.  Enough time he thought to give officials opportunity to search his person, his belongings and his intentions.  Standing 6’9” and weighing north of 350lbs of solid muscle he was an imposing figure.  Combined with his blond hair, green eyes, perfect smile and easy manner North Korean officials’ suspicion soon faded.  No, more than that:  his presence inspired confidence, comradeship, almost loyalty.  This made planning for the presentation of his gift that much easier.

 

Kim Jong-un arrived in one of the banqueting halls where Lansing stood ready to present his gift, resplendent in a dark, form-fitting, Henry Poole suit. A number of civilians and several dozen members of the Korean People’s Army--all in dress uniforms—waited as well.  The plump dictator felt intimidated by the American bodybuilder before him and addressed him suspiciously.

 

“My advisors say you have something for me,” Kim said in English.

 

“I have a small token of esteem which I hope you will accept, sir,” Lansing replied in perfect Korean, bowing.

 

Kim raised an eyebrow.

 

“What is it?” Kim asked.

 

Lansing motioned to a young soldier who stepped forward with a small, highly polished, wooden box, bowed and offered it to Kim with outstretched hands.  Kim took the box and opened it revealing what appeared to be an NBA Championship ring from 1993.

 

Kim smiled broadly and said “You know of my love of basketball I see.  Your gift is very thoughtful.  Thank you.”

 

Lansing smiled.

 

“You will forgive me, sir,” Lansing began, “but the ring is rather more than what it seems.”

 

Kim looked at Lansing inquisitively.

 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

 

“If you will allow me to demonstrate,” said Lansing, plucking the ring from the box, slipped it on his finger and turned toward the young soldier who still stood nearby.  Immediately the stones in the ring emitted what appeared to be a series of scanning laser beams which passed over everyone in the room in just a few seconds.

 

The guards, taken by surprise, raised their rifles and took aim at Lansing.

 

Lansing smiled and said, “There is no need for alarm.  In fact, there is every reason for celebration as you will soon see.”

 

The young soldier who stood near Lansing staggered slightly as if dizzy.

 

“What have you done?” demanded Kim.

 

“Watch,” Lansing said, still smiling and nodding toward the young soldier.

 

The soldier’s look of disorientation was replaced by one of euphoria.  His head arched back and he began to massage his arms, pecs and stomach.  After a few seconds it appeared as if his uniform were becoming too tight.  A few seconds more the seams of his jacket and trousers started to strain visibly and the buttons across his chest looked ready to burst.  The solider flexed his growing arms reducing the fabric to rags and revealing a perfectly formed set of biceps and triceps.  The seams in his shoulders and chest fell away a few seconds later, displaying an equally impressive set of pecs, deltoids and trapezius muscles.  Abs like cobblestones tapered to a narrow waist which flared dramatically aft showing impossibly lofted, rock-hard glutes.  Each leg swelled to match the size of his waist and his calves to rival an average bodybuilder’s upper arm.  The soldier continued to flex and grow for nearly a minute, an intensely satisfying experience if the bulge in his underwear were any indication.

 

As the growth stopped he cried out arrogantly “Look at me!  The STRENGTH!  The POWER!  I’m a GOD!” and continued to flex and feel his newly acquired muscles.

 

Kim was taken aback but marvelled at the nearly nude young man before him.

 

“Your nuclear weapons program will ultimately bring ruin to you and your country,” Lansing said.  “I offer an alternative.  Kwan here is the shape of things to come.”

 

“I feel as if I could lift a tank!” cried Kwan.  He pulled a rifle out of the hands of a nearby guard twisted it into a knot as easily as a child might knot a shoelace.  He dropped the former weapon to the floor and delivered an astonishing most-muscular pose to the awed military there present.

 

One of the other soldiers, obviously scared Kwan might be out of control, took aim at his chest and fired.  The shell bounced off as if it had been a water droplet.  Kwan looked down at his chest, then at the offending soldier and laughed.

 

“You have no idea what you are up against!” he boomed, “You are insects compared to me!”

 

Kim considered what had just happened.

 

“You propose transforming my army into supermen?” he asked.

 

“Not quite,” Lansing said, “Kwan here is stronger than a whole brigade of ordinary soldiers, faster than a bullet train and has reflexes 20 times faster than the most agile athletes.  He is also completely aware of his abilities, which means…”

 

“Which means,” Kwan added, grinning, “It’s time for a regime change.”

 

Kim’s eyes grew wide.

 

“Open fire!” he commanded.

 

The unarmed guests ducked for cover as the military personnel took aim.

 

Just then Kwan closed his eyes and spread his lats and everyone in the room except Lansing froze.

 

“You saw what happened the last time someone tried to take me down,” Kwan said arrogantly.  “Now watch what happens when I set my mind to taking you down.”

 

Kwan brought his arms up for a double biceps and flexed hard.  Beams of light traced their way from everyone in the room but Lansing into Kwan’s swelling muscles.  Huge before they were enormous now.  All around the room other guests’ musculature seemed to dwindle and shrink, feeding Kwan’s growing superiority.  Eventually they collapsed and passed out, so weak now they could barely breathe.

 

“Yes!  I’m even stronger now!” Kwan exclaimed, admiring his new muscles.

 

Lansing turned to Kwan who was still running his hands over his own muscles, obviously enjoying his new-found power.  Lansing put his hand on Kwan’s massive, right pec, breaking the young Korean from his reverie.  He squeezed and Kwan winced slightly at the unexpected strength Lansing demonstrated.

 

“Remember our deal,” Lansing said, “A prosperous, peaceful and united Korea for all.”

 

Kwan nodded earnestly.

 

Lansing smiled broadly and turned to leave.

 

“I’ll check in with you later this week,” Lansing said, “I have a meeting in Iran on Wednesday.”

[spacevlad]

Great short story! Loved the muscle draining part especially.