time-historical The American Musketeer : A Series

[CardiMuscleman]

Chapter Seven : The Edwardian Workout

“Well” said John as he opened the lift doors that led from the hall of his home to the basement where he had his gym, “What do you think eh?”

 

As Roger looked out over the gym, made up of all manner of weights, bars and objects, the lightest of which must have weighed as least fifty pounds, he moaned with anticipation.

 

“I’ll take that as a “Let me loose on those things!” eh?” chuckled his friend and showed him around.

 

“Well, here’s the basic gym, pretty much like the ones that you use with a slight Edwardian bent I will admit, so no cable crossovers here but I think you will like this little piece of torture I call the dustbin lift” and pointed to a dustbin that was attached to a piece of rope. “It’s a complete doddle to use” he added, picking up a hundred pound weight with ease and placing it in the dustbin, “then you simply take the rope and pull” and with that he pulled the rope and was soon doing something that resembled bicep curls.

 

“Do you always exercise in that suit?” Roger asked

 

As his friend lowered the weight he said, “Well, usually yes, after all you have to remember that in this day and age nudity is generally reviled, hence Mr. Muscles being a bad guy, and therefore I have to respect that but you are right, when I am able to, I do train naked but not in the way that I think that you might be thinking about!” and with that he gestured Roger to follow him as Roger noticed a slight smile cross his face.

 

“That was the main gym, comparable to a gym that you might use at home, this is the Olympic lifting room where I managed to train Launceston!” he said with a smile.

 

“Who?” asked Roger.

 

As his friend went to a filing cabinet, he chuckled to himself and after rummaging through it muttering “No, that’s Eugene, no, that’s the King” said “Ah, here we are! Paul, allow me to introduce Mr. Launceston Elliot. The only Briton ever to win a gold medal at the Olympics and that includes those held in London in 2012 and trained by yours truly!” and with that he bowed and handed Roger a photograph of a moustached man holding a large barbell high above his head.

 

“How heavy is that?” asked Roger

 

“Oh, a hundred and fifty six and a quarter pounds if my memory serves me right!” his friend said, “he would have won the gold in the two armed lift as well by hefting two hundred and forty five and a quarter pounds but he tied with a Dane who was awarded the gold medal!”

 

“Ah” smiled Roger, knowing how competitions worked, “lighter bodyweight!”

 

“Nope” replied his friend, taking the photo back and placing it in the folder, “he moved his feet according to the judges and that’s why the Dane won. Naturally both he and I were incensed and I very nearly caused the first Olympic walkout and if it had not been for the timely intervention of Monsieur de Coubertin I dread to think what I might have done to the Greek capital, but we had both calmed down by the time of the closing ceremony and we both vowed that we would ensure he became the double Olympic champion in the weightlifting at the next games that were being held in Paris!”

 

“Well” smiled Roger, “so that makes you a double Olympic champion trainer then?”

 

“Unfortunately not” his friend replied, “The following year, 1897, the Paris organising committee announced the sports that were going to be included and when I got the list I couldn’t find weightlifting at all. I put it down to a mistaken translation and telegraphed the office in Paris to ask specifically. Guess what they told me?”

 

“What?” asked Roger

 

“The Paris organising committee deem the lifting of weights to be a brutish sport which has no place in our fine city, therefore we have taken the decision to remove the sport from the Olympic programme!” his friend replied

 

“They took weightlifting out of the Olympics?” Roger asked, “But I’ve seen it on television during the Games. Last Olympics in 2012, I was practically gasping at the strength on show!”

 

“I know” his friend said, “it came back in St. Louis in 1904 but that was too late for Launceston, in 1902 he fell off a ladder whilst doing some housework and sadly landed in such a way as to break his foot. The British Olympic Committee pleaded with me to compete for Britain at those Games in his place, but I dare not. What would have happened if I had? I would also certainly have won gold in both the one and two handed lift but then I would have changed history and with my interest in the Olympics, you can imagine what would happen if I found a picture of myself lifting a two hundred or so pound weight seventy four years before being born!”

 

Roger nodded, understanding.

 

“One of the greatest regrets of my life that is!” he said as he put the folder back in the filing cabinet, “but, in a way, that was also my crowning achievement. Because of the way that I had phrased my refusal, there was a national campaign for me to be recognised for my selfless actions and before I knew what had happened, I’ve been signed up to become a member of the fledging secret service, MI6, and that’s where my colleague comes into play. If you’d care to follow me, please?”

 

As the two friends walked further into the gym, the light levels started to drop and in almost near darkness, John said “Now, could you be so kind as to turn the lights on please?” and gestured to something that resembled a moving staircase. Roger stepped onto it and started to walk and as he did, the lights slowly came on.

 

“A little gift from your Edison” his friend smiled, “Not only does it give you a brilliant cardio workout, it’s also self-powering!”

 

As the room started to brighten, Roger could make out a squat rack with at least ten plates on either side of the bar and as he counted them, he looked at his friend.

 

“That’s two thousand pounds, minimum!” he said, “You’re not that strong are you?”

 

“Oh, heavens, no!” he said and walked to the back of the rack, “but this, well, this is a light bicep curl session for my colleague!”

 

As Roger continued to walk, he moaned and ripped the shorts off that he had been wearing since leaving the cell where he had woken up. His friend chuckled as the now exposed cock started to twitch.

 

“Let me guess!” he smiled, “you would like to meet my colleague?”

 

“Oh, fuck yeah!” Roger moaned, rubbing the member that belonged to Mr. Muscles.

 

“With pleasure!” his friend smiled and positioned himself under the weight which caused Roger to say “That’s too heavy for you, you just said!”

 

“Yes” replied his friend as he took a deep breath, “but it brings me out of my shell!” and with that he shouldered the weight and instantly sank into a squat that looked excruciatingly painful, Roger was convinced that John's kneecaps were going to explode. As he seemed to collapse, he gasped, “If you have ever considered yourself a friend, keep walking and insult me!"

As John's face became a sight of sheer agony, Roger looked at him with concern. They were best friends, he would often ask him to critique his posing routines and John would often ask Roger questions that no self respecting Brit would ever answer. He knew, however, that John wouldn't put himself through this agony unless there was a reason why and so he let loose with a "You think you're strong? Shit, man. I'm bigger than you!" and with that flexed his biceps.

 

John roared in anger as he retorted “I may not be as muscular as you are, but I am stronger!” and slowly but surely, he started to lift the weight up, his face grimacing with effort. As he did unable to believe what he was seeing, Roger let loose again.

 

“You couldn’t fuck anything bigger than a fly” he shouted, “No one can see it!”

 

His friend’s face incandescent with rage, he slowly stood up and was now shouldering the weight as in the second part of a clean and jerk lift. Roger started in amazement at the sight of his best friend proving his superhuman strength by lifting two thousand pounds but he knew he wouldn’t tell him to insult him unless he had something to show him and so taking a deep breath Roger yelled “You call that a cock? Ha, that cock is only big enough for a baby to suck on; the rest of the world cannot see it!”

 

His friend grimaced and yelled “BELKINSOPP!” and as he did, he started to glow a bright white light. It was a light so strong that Roger had to shield his eyes from it but as the brightness faded he gasped as where his suited friend had once stood, now stood what could only be described as a…

 

“He-Man!” whispered Roger under his breath

[convolution]

What an absolutely nutty, wonderfull story ☺

You write so fast!

[CardiMuscleman]

Chapter Eight: The Ultimate Briton

The man chuckled as he performed a perfect overhead press of the weight and started doing reps.

 

“Not quite” he said, with a deep, booming voice, “I like to call myself the Ultimate Briton, although that said I have wondered if I could sue for copyright infringement!" and with that transferred the weight to one arm and was about to start curling it when he stopped and thought, “You know” he said, “I think I’ll join you” and whilst still holding the weight in one hand he slowly took off his clothes, what little there were.

 

“Yep” he chortled, as Roger watched every moment, “these are size twenty boots you know, and just look at the feet in them" and with that he wriggled his toes. "Impressed, I can tell!" he smiled, "But there’s more to me than that, check these out” and with that he turned around and flexed his calves causing Roger to gasp and nearly fall off the staircase he was walking up, “I thought that might get your attention, that’s a pair of thirty inch claves there, much bigger than those that Mr. Muscles gave you and how about these for a pair of tree trunks, eh?” and flexed his quads that took Roger’s breath away.

 

“Oh, fuck!” Roger moaned as he stepped off the stairs and approached his now musclebound friend almost in awe.

 

“Yes, thirty five inch quads do tend to have that reaction!” the Ultimate Briton chuckled and was about to rip off his loincloth when he paused, “No, we’ll leave that till last, leave the audience wanting more eh” and with that flexed his abs and asked his friend to count.

 

“One, two, three, four, five, six” Roger started and then gasped, “seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve?” and as he looked up he said “That’s impossible!”

 

“On a twenty five inch waist, anything’s possible” the muscle mountain chuckled and with that took a deep breath and unbuckled the breastplate that was emblazoned with a Union Jack flag and as it fell to the ground with a clunk, he flexed his pecs, hard.

 

“Oh, fuck!” moaned Roger again as he stared in amazement, “that’s got to be at least fifty nine inches of pure muscle and those nipples, oh, please can I squeeze them?”

 

Still flexing and holding his breath, the man nodded and as Roger grabbed hold of the nine inch nipples, the five inch nipples that belonged to Mr. Muscles seemed tame by comparison. As Roger moaned, the giant relaxed and slowly flexed his biceps and smiling said “Go on, get your hands around those guns!”

 

Roger tried his best but they were just too muscular for him and when the Ultimate Briton whispered “Thirty two inches and they are not really pumped yet!” Roger let out a moan of desire and Mr. Muscles’ cock saluted in tribute.

 

“Which reminds me!” the man mountain chuckled and with that grabbed hold of the loincloth covering perhaps the most important part of his physique and said “Now, what did you say? My cock was only big enough for a baby to suck on? I think not!” and with that he ripped the loincloth off to reveal a flaccid cock some sixteen inches long and nine inches thick. Roger moaned, almost in agony, and started to rub his borrowed cock before wailing “I need to!”

 

The Ultimate Briton smiled and picking up Roger by the waist, he laid him down on the bench that was part of the bench press setup and stood in front of him and said “Do what you like; no torture can phase me in the slightest!” and with that he closed his eyes, leaned his head back and prepared for whatever torment Roger was going to attack him with.

 

As Roger reached out with both hands as if to grab the cock in front of him and as the Ultimate Briton braced himself for whatever Roger was going to do, a strange sound that he had not expected to hear filled the room. Opening his eyes, he found Roger, holding his head in his hands and weeping. Kneeling down, the Ultimate Briton whispered “What’s the matter?”

 

As Roger looked up, the Ultimate Briton could see that his eyes were red. It was clear that something had upset him and as the Ultimate Briton put a reassuring arm around his shoulders he said “I can’t! Not like this!”

 

“I’m sorry?” asked the Ultimate Briton, “what you do mean you can’t?”

 

“I had hoped this day would always come” he said, still crying, “the day when we could meet up in person, expose our bodies to the air and ram each other senseless, and I want to, oh, my dear friend, I have always wanted to but I want to ram you as me, not as this villain who took my body from me!” and with that he collapsed into the Ultimate Briton’s naked chest and bawled like a baby.

 

“Oh, Roger” he gasped, “I am so sorry, I didn’t realise" and with that sat down next to his friend. "All those times we would role-play online. You, being strapped into a mind swap machine, scream in agony as your mind transferred into a muscle hero’s body and then ram your old body stupid, I thought that you would like this current state of affairs” and with that he stood up, “You’re right of course” he said defiantly, “that villain of a man is still running around London committing crimes in your name. I will not allow it!” he bellowed causing the whole room to shake. The thunderous stomp appeared to start the telegraph machine which suddenly chattered into life. As he went over to read it, a smile crossed his face and he relayed the message to his friend.

 

“Man arrested for stealing watches in Regent Street. STOP. Man currently in at St. Marylebone Police Station. STOP. Arrested person was also charged with public nudity. STOP. Distinguishing marks COMMA tattoo of anchor on forearm and third npple. STOP!” and as his friend exclaimed, “That’s my body, it has to be”, the Ultimate Briton’s smile grew larger and larger.

 

“That Mr. Muscles with his same room mind transfer machine!” he scoffed and gestured for Roger to follow him into another part of the gym, “Wait till he gets a load of this!” and with that unveiled what looked like an electric chair, “presenting” he said with a smile, “the Remote Brain Transfer Machine with added stimulation!” he chuckled as he pointed out the restraints on the arms and legs of the chair and then turned to his friend, “Now about a real life application of the old times eh?”

[Ro20316]

This getting crazier and crazier.

Go for Mr. Muscles. Make him pay. Come on guys

[CardiMuscleman]

Chapter Nine : Roger's Revenge

As Roger stared at the chair in front of him, it was almost as if every fantasy of his had come true at once.

"You mean...?" he asked as his friend nodded and without a moment of hesistation he sat down in it and moaned "Please, let's roleplay again!"

As his friend chuckled, he said "Okay, so who I am this time?"

"Professor Herbert" smiled Roger, "a benevolent scientist who is getting old and has been working out how to leave his works to future generations!"

"A noble cause" smiled the Ultimate Briton, "and you are?"

"You" he moaned as he puffed out his chest to match his friends, "as the only man big enough, strong enough and powerful enough to withstand the process!"

"Well" smiled his friend, "I'd best dress for the occasion" and with that he closed his eyes and whispered "London" and as he shrank down from his muscular alter ego to the Victorian Hero Roger chuckled "You're going to have to teach that to me one day" to which the Hero replied "Perhaps" and then with a cough announced "Scene"

“Ooh, yeah!” moaned Roger as he was strapped into the chair, “this feels sexy!"

"That may be the case" replied the Hero as he continued restraining his friend, "but remember this is science. I want to leave my memories to the world and if this process works I can. Now, remember what I told you. When I throw that switch, twenty thousand volts of direct current will flow into you and as soon as it does, you have to concentrate, and I mean really concentrate, on what it felt like to be in your old body"

As Roger moaned he was already remembering every single front double biceps pose, every single front lat spread, every single most muscular that he had ever performed on stage and the inevitable conclusion of getting so riled up he couldn't help but rub his cock and as the memories flooding his mind he asked “And this will work?”

"In theory" came the reply which pushed Roger to the next level.

"Yeah, strapped into an untested machine, being exposed to massive amounts of electricity, my mind being forcibly pulled out of my brain yeah, do it, man, throw that switch!" he grunted and started to pull on the restraints.

 

“My word" chuckled the Hero, "you are eager aren't you?" and with that stood behind a piece of equipment. Placing a pair of googles over his eyes, he said "Good luck, Roger, remember, this is to defeat Mr. Muscles!" and with that he pulled a lever.

 

As the power surged into Roger he screamed “OH YES! Send the juice to me!” and although restrained in the chair, he started to buck his hips and moaned “Get this cock bigger and harder than you have ever seen!” and as he spoke, his borrowed cock stirred into life and made Roger's moans so loud that the Hero started to turn a bit red out of embarrassment.

 

“Yeah!” moaned Roger, “I can make the straightest man want me. Heck, I could make the British army into my personal muscle slave army” and his adopted cock grew even bigger he groaned, “Give me a solider and I’ll make him my slave!”

 

Also, as if by command, the lift pinged and two smartly dressed soldiers marched in, stood to attention and saluted announcing “On behalf of His Majesty, the King, we have been asked to…” and then they stopped and stared at Roger, writing in agony, his hips bucking and moaning and it was clear they were losing the sense of their narrative, “take you to, oh, my word, look at him Hugh, sorry, take you to the Palace to ask, I’m sorry, I can’t bear those noises, I know I should resist but…” and with that Edward started to undress much to John’s shock but as Hugh said “But, Edward, look at that man, look at his muscles, look at that pain, tell me that doesn’t want you to experience it first-hand!” and with that he ripped off his trousers and stood tall as he flexed his fifty inch chest causing him to moan.

 

“Yeah!” screamed Roger, "rub those rods you stallions. Make me thirsty for you!”

 

As Hugh did as commanded, Edward started to fall under Roger's spell and within moments both men were naked and rubbing their members. As the Hero watched in amazement, he wrote a memo to the Defence Secretary suggesting that his recent idea of recruiting only the strongest men in the islands may not have been such a brilliant idea after all.

 

“Boys!” moaned Roger, as his adopted cock reached its full size, “Give me those faucets to suck and get a drink of hot cum" and with that he roared and came which both men swallowed it greedily

 

“Hello, Hello, Hello, what’s going on here then?”

 

“Oh, no!” groaned the Heroin despair, “Not him!” and with that left the scene and walked over to his friend, Commissioner Fix of Scotland Yard.

 

“Ah, Commissioner” he started, “allow me to explain!” but was stopped by the Commissioner raising a hand.

 

“I think it is very obvious what is happening here!” he said, bending his knees as every policeman in London was expected to do, “You have captured Mr. Muscles and are torturing him in order to determine what punishment would be suitable for him when he is convicted of his crimes!”

 

“Sure” said the Ultimate Briton, “let’s go with that!”

 

“MORE POWER!” screamed Roger at the top of his voice, his adopted muscles bulging with power, “I CAN TAKE IT!”

 

The Hero dashed back to the control panel and looked across the bank of dials.

 

“I dare not!” he shouted back, “Your heart is already at…” but he was stopped by a “FUCK, I NEED THAT POWER!” and with that Roger closed his eyes and as he did, the voltage increased of its own accord to fifty thousand volts which caused Roger to scream in agony again and launch another volley of cum which was licked up by the two soldiers, but one piece missed them and landed on the Commissioner’s hat and dripped down in front of his eyes.

 

Taking his hat off, he sniffed the material and never seeing it before, placed a small piece onto his finger and tasted it. As soon as he did, his eyes glazed over and a few moments later he joined the soldiers begging for Roger to cum again. Roger obliged and screamed with such power that he broke free of his restraints and walked towards the three muscle slaves, the power surging through him still increasing with the Hero taking notes furiously.

 

As Roger stood in front of the three men, the Commissioner removed his truncheon from his belt as his trousers slipped down and starting to hit the cock of Mr. Muscles and with every impact, it still remained hard and long and Roger laughed “You cannot hurt this monster but you can try!” and with that hit a front lat spread leaving his member completely undefended.

 

Now, it was the soldiers turn to join in with the officer and with all three now naked and dripping, they each took a truncheon and started to beat the monster in front of them until it started to throb. As it did, Roger's moans become more and more animalistic as the combination of stimulations made his mind a whirl of images of naked musclemen and like a great water spout in a hurricane, the cock, now twenty five inches long and eleven inches thick shot volumes of white sparkling cum over the men and as he did, Roger screamed in agony “Mr. Muscles, you have been defeated!” as the Hero noted a thunderstorm starting to form over the St. Marylebone district of London

 

“Lick it boys!” moaned Paul, as he could feel his mind being sucked out of the brain it was imprisoned in, “Get  this power juice and grow as you worship my muscles!” and with that he erupted again and with a mighty “RULE BRITANNIA!” Roger reached orgasm and his mind now unable to resist the stimulation was pulled back into his own body as his host body slumped to the floor unconscious, but still alive as the mammoth chest of Mr. Muscles heaving from the stimulation and muscular endurance showed. And as he did, the three worshippers also came with such orgasmic force that they too blacked out and slumped to the ground. As they did, the Hero chuckled to himself and said “That’s the problem with the modern world, no stamina these days!” and with that switched off the machinery.

 

“Well, best tidy up this mess” he said and with that returned the Commissioner to his home when he placed him in bed and wiped his memories of the events and then returned High and Edward to their barracks and wiped their memories but left the feelings of mutual respect that the two men had experienced during their worship and arrived back at the gym just as Mr. Muscles regained consciousness.

 

“So” he said, staring his enemy in the eyes and getting to his feet, “you believe that you have won then? I say NAY!” and with that he launched himself at the Victorian Hero but was dodged by the Victorian Hero, who using Mr. Muscles’ speed and strength against him, threw him to the other side of the gym where he landed inside a glass dome with such force that the door slammed shut locking him inside. As he stood up, and looked around, he started to laugh maniacally as he slammed his foot against a pedal. As the dome started to glow he roared, “You have handed me my final victory, Victorian Hero” and with that he moaned, “Yes, I can feel the power of the cosmic rays surging into me, forcing me into the next generation of humanity and ensuring your defeat!”

 

“Yes” said the Victorian Hero, with a smile on his face, “whilst it is true that that machine did indeed start off as an evolution machine, invented by a certain Professor Pollard if memory serves, that was before I had a little tinker with it, well, I say tinker, actually it was a complete overhaul and I have always been convinced that I put the cosmic ray receiver in the wrong way around. Therefore instead of evolving yourself, I believe you are actually devolving yourself at the rate of say a century a minute!”

 

“Lies!” bellowed Mr. Muscles, his body glowing, “All lies to deny me my victory!”

 

“All right then!” said the Victorian Hero, “what’s a spinning jenny?”

 

Mr. Muscles laughed, “You would test my supreme knowledge with parlour games? A spinning jenny is…is….is…” and as he failed to answer his look of triumph faded into one of fear.

 

“Yes?” said the Victorian Hero, “a spinning jenny is what?”

 

“I…I…I don’t know!” replied Mr. Muscles, “My mind, it’s being erased of knowledge!”

 

“Well” replied the Victorian Hero, “not quite, what is happening is that your brain is shrinking as the human brain has grown in size over the millennia, yours is shrinking. Tell me, you don’t happen to know what the English Civil War was about? After all you’ve been in there for over three minutes and that happened about two and a half centuries ago!”

 

Mr. Muscles was about to answer when he realised he didn’t know the answer and started banging on the dome.

 

“Mercy, Victorian Hero, please, I beg you, have mercy on me!” he pleaded

 

“Well” said the Victorian Hero, as he turned to leave the gym, “you should have thought about that before committing all those crimes. I’ll let you out of there, when you’re ready to be let out, say at the end of the last Ice Age!” and with that he opened the lift doors, stepped in and pressed the button to take him up with the wails of Mr. Muscles ringing in his ears.

[CardiMuscleman]

Chapter Ten : Going Home (via the scenic route)

As the Victorian Hero ran back to his gym with a now clothed Roger on his shoulders, the two friends laughed out loud. Roger had achieved his ultimate aim of surviving torture even more physically painful than the various tortures he had seen in any number of muscle movies and the Victorian Hero had his friend back. As they returned to the gym, Roger gasped as a man hammered weakly on a glass dome in front of him and asked who it was.

 

“Ah, Roger, that’s your villain of the piece!” and with that he opened the door and the man, now looking like a Neanderthal stumbled out.

 

“That’s…” he said as the Victorian Hero shouldered Mr. Muscles.

 

“Indeed it is, now if you will excuse me for a moment!” and with that the Victorian Hero started to run on the spot and then shot off towards a wall and just as Roger thought he was going to break through the wall, he disappeared in a flash of light. As Roger stared in disbelief at another feat performed by his friend, he saw a notice next to the dome that the now Neanderthaled Mr. Muscles had staggered out of and read it.

 

"Evolution Machine" it read, "acquired by the country on behalf of Arthur Wright to appease the work of his friend Professor John Pollard who died using the machine on it's inaugural use!".

 

Roger suddenly looked up and swore under his breath. This machine was the subject of his favourite pulp fiction story and as he closed his eyes he moaned "Oh fuck, to think, I could become a superman with that machine" and as he moaned the Victorian Hero arrived back carrying two very large sandwiches and said "Right, time for lunch and then I'll take you back home".

 

As the two men ate their sandwiches, Roger wanted to know about the evolution machine and as the Hero explained that thank to his tinkering, it was more a devolution than evolution machine, Roger's moans became more guttural.

 

"Oh fuck" he said, "that's one of my favourite dreams, to be devolved into a caveman, no intelligence just brute muscle" and with that he turned to his friend and pleaded with him to use it on him. The Hero merely chuckled and said "When I have figured out how to reverse the process as well, then I shall, but in the meantime you have a date!" and with that he gestured for Roger to clamber onto his shoulders, started to run and shot off towards the wall disappearing in a flash of light.

 

As the Victorian Hero and Roger appeared in a flash of light, the Hero screeched to a halt and ended up ploughing a deep furrow into the ground which by the time he eventually stopped was level with Roger’s feet. As he stumbled off his friend’s shoulders he stammered, “What was that?”

 

“What?” asked his friend as he clambered out of the furrow, “Oh, that flash of light you mean? Well, that’s easily explained. That was the breaking of the speed of light!”

 

As Roger struggled to process this information, he stared at his friend in disbelief.

 

“Yep, that’s right!” his friend smiled, “I can run faster than the speed of light and therefore have the ability to travel in time, so let me be the first to welcome you to ancient Greece, specifically the city of Volos around 1700 BCE, give or take a bit!” and with that opened his arms to the vista.

 

“Ancient Greece?” gasped Roger as he took in the surroundings, “then where did you take Mr. Muscles?”

 

“Two places actually” his friend replied, “Firstly, I plonked him in the US State Department in 1946 for a few days, where he probably completely messed up the Middle East for centuries to come and then dropped him off at the end of the Ice Age, not that far from Fort Collins actually. As I left he seemed to be garnering a bit of attention from the ladies, and a few of the men as well, so I can only assume he’ll be all right!” and as he smiled, he took a sharp intake of breath.

 

“Are you all right?” asked Paul

 

“Just in need of some fuel!” he replied, “running at the speed of light does take it out of you. Still there’s my favourite restaurant!” and pointed to a building and shouted “Hey, Stelios, forty five stuffed vine leaves” and added, “Gives you about an hour to explore the locals” and as he walked towards the restaurant he said “So here's a word of advice, make your way towards the harbour and say hello to the captain of the largest vessel you can find. Tell him that you wish to help him load his ship, if need be with a flex of those biceps of yours and well, let's just say, enjoy the company!" and with that he entered the restaurant where a mighty "The Hero, you're back again" filled the air.

 

It took Roger an hour to reach the harbour, but just as his friend had said, there was the biggest ship he had ever seen and as instructed he introduced himself as Rógi̱ros and asked if he could help load the ship. The captain was only too happy to have an extra pair of hands and for the next half hour Roger helped the crew load up supplies. One of the crew was more than impressed by Roger and taking him to one said asked him if he considered himself to be strong. Roger smiled and flexed his biceps, causing the person to moan with desire and before Roger could stop him, the stranger had ripped off Roger's pants and was wrestling him to the ground. As Roger tried to resist, the man moaned "Do you not know who I am?". Roger shook his head and as the stranger explained, whilst still wrestling Roger, Roger's eyes opened wide.

 

"I am known as Alcaeus" the man grunted as he put Roger into a half nelson, "great grandson of the might hero Perseus, the greatest hero in all of the Hellenic Empire and the man who wishes you to submit to me as you realise who I am!"

 

"Oh fuck" moaned Roger and stopped resisting as he realised who he was fighting, "Hercules!"

 

"The same" came the reply as Hercules ripped off Roger's clothes and started to fuck him relentlessly causing Roger to scream in sexual ecstasy and Hercules to moan with desire. Seconds later, Roger was screaming at the top of his voice "COME ON YOU MUSCLESTUD, COME ON HERCULES, FUCK ME!” and as he did, he spotted a blur of white enter his field of vision. It was his friend who was now holding his head in his hands and went over to speak to the captain of the vessel. As the two engaged in conversation, Hercules leered over his victim and said "You wish it, mortal, then you shall have it!" and with that came with such force that if Hercules hadn't been holding him down, Roger would have been forced into the sea. Struggling to breathe as Hercules' cock continued to fill his mouth with his seed, Roger started to black out, the last thing he remembered was his friend and the captain forcing Hercules to withdraw from Roger and being shouldered onto his friend.

[Ro20316]

Slowly, teh vision eh had afew chapter ago. It's coming true.

He - Man, Hercules now there is only  Samson and Conan  missing

[CardiMuscleman]

Chapter Eleven : The New Samson

"I do apologise disturbing you, but I wonder if you could look at my friend?"

As the medical doctor stood up he smiled and replied "For you, my dear sir, anything" and with that examined Roger now lying on a doctor's bed in a hospital in 1960's Florida. As the doctor examined his patient he said "Well, I can't see what's wrong to be honest, He looks physically alright! Still, best give him a proper examination!" and with that he put on a stethoscope and placed it on Roger's chest and gasped as he looked at the Victorian Hero.

"This man is having a heart attack!" he declared and was about to raise the alarm when Roger moaned, "Hercules' cum! It's too powerful for me. Help me!" and then lasped back into unconsciousness. The doctor turned to the Hero and raised an eyebrow.

"Let's just say" smiled the Hero, "he had a close encounter with his hero, a bit like you with your hero!"

The doctor chuckled as he shook the Hero's hand and resumed his examination.

"Yes" he mused, "I don't know what I would have done without you. I still don't know what made me do it, but having examined the effect on my friend and colleague, Doctor Banner, I..." and with that he bowed his head.

"My friend is the same" reassured the hero, "He adores Hercules, just as you were amazed by the sheer brute force of the Hulk. You've admitted it yourself to me on several occasions. You saw other people like Major Talbot always talking down to you because they felt they were bigger and stronger than you. I mean, if I may be honest for a moment, before you had a fairly muscular body, but you were not as strong as them and having drained Banner of his gamma radiation, well, I am sure that even my friend would want to expose himself to it!"

As Doctor Samson chuckled, his green locks wobbling in kind, he completed his examination. "Well" he concluded, "It's clear that Hercules' semen is trying to remould your friend's body into his likeness, but clearly it needs a little help" and with that he went to his desk and produced what looked like a pistol. "I know that you are not the biggest fan of weaponry" he said, as he placed the pistol like device onto Roger's left pec, "but I have a feeling this may help" and with that he pulled the trigger and a brief, but bright flash of green seemed to inject itself into Roger. As soon as it did, Roger's eyes opened wide and he roared with the intensity of a thunderstorm. Gesturing for the Hero to stand back from Roger, Doctor Samson smiled and said "GROW!" and as he did Roger did.

"I was right" smiled the doctor as Roger grew in both height and mass, "Hercules' semen was literally pure DNA and it just needed a helping hand, in this case pure gamma radiation. I am pretty sure he's going to enjoy this!"

Roger's arms were the first to experience the growth and as he felt his traps expand he moaned "Oh fuck, I want to feel my clothes explode!", then his chest expanded and as it did his pecs took on a life of their own and grew to become even bigger than any pecs he had seen in his entire life closely followed by his abs as not six, not eight but ten developed abdominal muscles came into sharp relief. Next Roger’s legs turned into tree trunks with quads that would have put Jay Cutler’s to shame and a set of calves that looked like diamonds. Finally, his biceps grew and as Roger flexed them hard he willed them to grow bigger than the biggest on the planet. They obeyed and soon Roger roared as his cock reacted.

"And here comes the money shot!" chuckled Doctor Samson as Roger screamed "I'M THE NEW CONAN!" and came so violently that he knocked himself out as cum started to drip from the ceiling. As the Hero stared in disbelief he asked "What a good thing I didn't take him to see Porthos, the Musketeer. I dread to think what would have happened if he even did the business with him?"

As the Doctor took a mop from the closet and started to clean up the mess, he handed the Hero a measuring tape and said "Surprise him when he wakes up" and as the Hero measured his friend's physique, Doctor Samson popped his head around the door and reassured the staff that "I'm all right, just having a good day!" and with that shook the Hero's hand as he shouldered his friend and with a flash they both disappeared leaving Doctor Leonard Samson remembering of the day he became Doc Samson.

The reason for a rather shorter episode than normal is because of Ro20316's observation (which I felt fitted in very nicely)

[CardiMuscleman]

Chapter Twelve : The Homecoming

“Wakey Wakey, Roger” smiled the Victorian Hero, “I’ve a surprise for you!”

 

As Roger woke up the Victorian Hero waved and said “Did you have a nice sleep?”

 

As Roger sat up he looked around and said “This is my room. I’m home?”

 

“Indeed you are” smiled the Victorian Hero, “and I have to return home soon as well, but I’ve decided to leave you a thank you present. A present for all the times that you have posed on camera for me and shown me just how big a man can get. Now, if you’d care to stand on these scales” he said and gestured for Roger to stand. He did and gasped as the numbers settled down on…

 

“Three hundred and fifty pounds????” he exclaimed and looked up at a full length mirror and gasped at what he saw.

 

“Presenting” said the Victorian Hero, describing Roger like a motor car, “The Roger Dixon 2016. Standing a good seven feet tall, the new and improved Roger Dixon now boasts three hundred and fifty pounds of solid fat free muscle. Note the sixty inch chest with, for added convience, the six inch long nipples, that sweep down to a thirty inch waist with the added benefit of an eight pack, after all only the best for our customers you know and it would be highly amiss not to mention the added bonus of a pair of twenty four inch biceps!”

 

Roger moaned as he hit a front double biceps pose as the Victorian Hero continued.

 

“If sir would care to look below the bonnet, so to speak, I am sure he will be very impressed to see this model’s thirty inch quads, twenty five inch calves, and of course this model’s piece de resistance, a thirteen inch cock that has a cast iron guarantee to make any man beg for it to enter his mouth”

 

As Roger started to rub the monster cock, the Victorian Hero concluded by saying “Plus as a special thank you offer, we have thrown in a set of fifteen inch forearms completely free of charge. We hope that you have enjoyed shopping with Victorian Hero Body Shop and look forward to hearing of decades of service!”

 

“OH, FUCK, YEAH!” screamed Roger as he covered the mirror with cumobscuring the muscleman in it before collapsing on the bed again panting. As he felt himself falling asleep again, he whispered “Thank you Victorian Hero, thank you my dearest friend!” and with that started to dream.

 

“Oh yeah, fuck me hard!”

 

As Roger moaned, he revelled in the dream he was experiencing. The scene was a small copse of trees or a small forest, the weather was hot sunshine that just begged to be enjoyed in all of its glory, the dress was a posing suit. As Roger moaned, he dreamed that he had taken off the posing suit and was enjoying the hot weather nude and hard and then came the height of the dream.

 

There was someone just behind him, but before he could turn around, the person would wrap his arms around his chest, wrap his legs around his legs and thrust what had to be a nine inch hard cock into his glutes and although he didn’t know who it was, he didn’t want the sensation to end.

 

“Harder” he moaned, still in his dream, “push it all in”

 

He couldn’t see who was ramming him, but he could hear him grunting and groaning and he could feel him. He had to be at least as tall as him and maybe even the same weight and physical build, as he felt the man’s nipples push into his back and it was clear that he, like himself, was American. In fact on several occasions, he had the same accent as him, but as the punishment continued Paul’s dream went into overdrive.

 

“YEAH!” roared Roger, “push us both to our limits. Give me your POWER!”

 

That was the cue and within seconds, Roger felt a rush of power in his glutes. Roaring, as if his heart was now powered by a nuclear power station, Roger started to feel his body explode with muscle and power. He felt himself growing in stature, past the silver birches until he was level with smallest pine trees, then he started to feel the expansion. He weighed a hundred and fifty pounds that morning, but now felt like one hundred and seventy five, two hundred, two hundred and twenty five, two hundred and fifty, two hundred and seventy five, three hundred, three hundred and twenty five…

 

“THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY POUNDS OF FUCKING POWER!” he roared at which point both men arrived and with a sense of orgasmic power that flowed through Roger, he woke up, his sheets covered with thick globs of muscle juice. As he panted, he moaned "I wonder what the day has in store for me now!" and with that surrendered to the might of the orgasm.

[Ro20316]

Whe you think it's ending, a new muscle adventure arrieves. I love this