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The Mass Program  • CHAPTER 1

by Sean Reid Scott
Inspired greatly by "Bodyguards," by the orgasmic author "John".

 

 

[Note: This story is saturated in descriptive narration. That is with purpose.
It’s not literature, it’s basically jerk-off material.
Enjoy.]

 

 

PRIVATES MATTHEW KENT AND ADRIAN WILLIS both stepped out of the double shower in their private barracks, and began drying their massive muscle bodies with white, special-issue Army towels. The young men, part of a Top Secret military development program, were fortunate to be two of the only Privates in the U.S. Army to have such luxurious quarters.

Their quarters were definitely luxurious by Army standards—and for that matter, any other standard. Camp Fortitude—location classified—was built specifically for the Top Secret: Muscle And Strength Saturation program (MASS). Most of Camp Fortitude’s barracks were more like suites. The barracks each housed two men, and each suite (they were referred to as barracks; military doesn’t like the idea of a suite) came equipped with a full weight-lifting gym (with advanced, dense weights, capable of providing much more resistance than normal weights), as well as other amenities never seen in normal barracks.

Kent and Willis were both 20 years old. Since entering MASS, the two Privates had roomed together, and had become very good friends—well, maybe even more. During their two years in the program, they had developed together in their advancement. Now at Level Two, both men were astounding specimens of lean, gorgeous, bulging muscle.

“You ready to meet the Major?” Pvt. Willis asked his buddy.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Kent said. “I have to admit I’m a bit nervous.”

“Yeah, me too. I know we’ve been trained and all, specifically for today’s exercise, you know. But the things I’ve heard about the Major… he sounds pretty… well… intimidating.”

“What’d you hear?” Pvt. Kent asked.

“Well, he’s huge. And ripped. Like no one you’ve ever seen before.”

“Well, duh, Matt. That’s the whole idea of MASS, isn’t it?” Willis chuckled. “I mean open your eyes, dude. Every guy around here is built like two professional bodybuilders in one.”

“Yeah, but the Major—he’s Level Five, man,” Kent said. He stopped drying himself and waited to measure his partner’s reaction to that fact. “Have you ever seen a Level Five?”

“No. I haven’t,” Willis answered. He suddenly became serious. “I’ve actually seen a Level Four once.” He paused a second. “Dude, the guy was completely clothed, and you couldn’t hide the fact that his body was insane. I mean, just looking at his muscle body even completely covered with his uniform… Seriously, I almost came in my pants.”

“Holy shit. Really? Fuck, man. So what do you think a Level Five will look like?”

“I have no idea” Willis said, shaking his head. “I suppose that’s part of the test. I have a feeling we’re both going to be overwhelmed… by Major Tucker.”

Private Kent threw his towel in the hamper and turned toward the bedroom. “Shit, I think we should both jerk off before we go to the exercise. I don’t know about you, but I’m going to need to be fully drained of sexual tension, if I’m supposed to take this test.”

“Good idea,” Willis said coming up behind Kent’s wide back and kissing his partner’s neck. “And I think I can help you with that, Matthew. Sit down.”

Matt Kent turned around and sat his naked ass on their king-sized bed. (I told you this barracks wasn’t standard Army issue, but MASS was a unique program.)

Willis stood in front of his captive audience of one, and commenced with a boner-inducing flexing session—designed with his particular knowledge of Kent’s specific sex triggers. He began with the standard double-biceps pose. His six-foot-three, 310 pound body tightened into a rippling mass of insanely-lean and vascular bulges. Kent watched Willis with his usual lusting expressions, vacillating between wide-eyed awe and overt licking of the lips.

Willis slowly rolled his pecs in front of Kent’s face. “So,” he said with a sly grin, “see anything you like?”

Kent’s particular weakness was for huge, throbbing, chests—and not only did Willis know that fact, he had a pair of the best pecs in the entire MASS program—and thus, on the entire planet. Now, in order to relieve Kent of all sexual tension before they faced the Major and the intensive Resistance exercise, Willis’ put his pectoral “assets” to use.

Willis flexed his body into a throbbing most-muscular pose. Kent began getting full-on hard. “Don’t be afraid to… touch, bud,” Willis smiled, standing relaxed and waving his pecs.

Kent didn’t have to be asked twice. He stepped close, and put his hands on Willis’ enormous chest. In seconds, the men were kissing and moaning, and Kent’s hands were all over his partner’s rippling, non-fat physique—never straying too far away from his favorite muscles: Adrian Willis’ incomparable pectorals.

Short story even shorter, a few minutes later Kent found himself busy licking up his spunk off of Willis’ cum-drenched body.

Then the two men traded places. Willis reclined on the bed; Kent stood, ready to make his boyfriend come all over hell. Willis was already semi-hard from the enjoyment of seeing his partner get off on his muscles.

Kent started with a side-chest pose, smiling down at his fellow-Private, and Willis gave the desired reaction—a whispered: “Fuuuuck.”

After a minute or so, Willis’ cock was hard, thick and long, and the man was reclined back, enthusiastically jerking off to his partner’s astounding muscle physique. When Kent turned around and flexed his back muscles, Willis’ hand increased its cadence and intensity, because he knew what was coming.

Satisfied that Willis was ready for the coup de grace, Kent bent over and grabbed his ankles, pouting his rock-hard muscle ass up at Willis. Willis stood up and took Kent’s hard glutes in his hands. He placed his Level Two huge penis between Kent’s gorgeous, tight glutes and rocked it forward and back. The head of the penis waved in the air, over his partner’s naked body.

Within seconds, Willis was loudly spraying his seed onto Kent’s back and the carpet below.

“Wow, that was fast,” Kent said to Adrian, between his legs—his voice muffled by his bent-over position. “Are you sure you’re going to be able to resist Major Tucker?”

Willis panted. Kent stood up and faced him.

“Well, the idea was to jerk off, so we could get out all the tension, right?” Willis smirked. “We’re not doing the test quite yet, buddy.”

Kent smiled. “Well, okay, man. But you do have to admit, it was quick.”

“Dude, I could come just by looking at you, any time, any place,” Willis grinned.

“Well, alrightythen. But I don’t think we get to that particular ability level for another few years—Level Five or Six,” Kent chuckled. Both men laughed together.

Drained of their youthful semen, both men felt confident—if not a bit apprehensive—about their upcoming appointment with Major Scott Tucker. Little did either man know, being exposed to Tucker’s Level Five body would challenge them far beyond what they considered possible. The Major’s massive, rippling, erotically irresistible male pulchritude would excite and stimulate them more than anything they’d ever experienced. And since the whole purpose of the exercise would be to resist the Major’s dizzying attraction, the results of this little test were far from certain.

Minutes later, the men stood side-by-side, double-checking themselves in the wide floor-to-ceiling mirror, pondering their imminent exercise with Major Tucker, a Level Five—something neither man had ever seen. And although Willis had seen a Level Four officer once, and had nearly creamed his pants just by looking at the uniformed man, Kent hadn’t seen anyone above Level Three.

The men’s enhanced bodies—thick with nearly-nonfat MASS meat—stretched their specially-tailored tan/green Army uniforms to their limits. The Privates’ shoulders were so wide they completely filled the big mirror. Pecs bulged under their shirts; arms bulged with powerful, big muscles. Their small waists flared down into pairs of tree-trunk inspired upper legs. Either man, if spotted walking down a city street, would elicit shocked expressions of unbelief from passersby. They were astoundingly gorgeous, and so big as to challenge anyone’s credulity.

Now it was time to face the Major. They were ready. Or were they?

A knock on the door brought Willis to it. A young Private—younger than even Kent’s and Willis’ 20 years—stood outside. He was a stupendous specimen of gorgeous muscle in his own right—probably a Level One still. After the requisite salutes the Private said, “Your car is ready, sirs. Major Tucker awaits.”

AFTER THE RIDE TO THE OTHER SIDE of the base, the two men were escorted to the Major’s large office by two MPs—obviously the same Level Two as Kent and Willis. When the MPs led the Privates inside the Major’s office, and Kent and Willis got their first look at Maj. Scott Tucker, both men audibly gasped.

“Gentlemen,” the Major smiled, ignoring his men’s obvious shock. “Welcome to your Resistance exercise.” While the Privates gawked at the Major’s inconceivable development, the two MPs exited, then closed the door. The Major’s friendly countenance dropped. He looked at the two slack-jawed men. “Privates, I understand that you’re startled, but is it not customary to salute a senior officer?”

Kent tried to blink the shock out of his eyes, then stood at attention and saluted. Willis followed his partner’s lead.

Tucker snapped a return salute and said, “At ease, gentlemen.” With that, the men relaxed into their at ease positions: hands behind their backs, and legs slightly spread.

The Major sat back and rested his ass on the desk behind him. He placed his palms on the edge of the desk. Under the fabric of his long sleeves, his gigantic arms stretched and bulged. He looked down and considered his body for a moment, giving each “relaxed” arm a knowing glance. He smiled. He looked up and examined the two men.

Neither Kent nor Willis could take their eyes off the Major. Such unbelievable muscle—more fucking muscle than either of them had ever seen, or even imagined—was tightly covered in the Major’s Army uniform. Bigger bulges than what seemed possible. And it was all topped by a face that was so goddamn good looking, it made both men want to whimper. His high-and-tight brown hair capped his virile body. Dark brown eyelashes and golden-brown eyes were like magnets to the two men. Pouting maroon lips to die-for; a square jaw that exuded strength. Major Tucker must have sacrificed an amazing career as a model to devote his life to the military. 

Under that model’s face, the Major had a thick, muscular neck that any linebacker would envy. Goddamn that neck was so fucking thick! Tucker’s traps, under the collar of his uniform, were sick. Then, those deltoids: Holy, fucking hell. Gigantic boulders of shoulder muscle strained the fabric of that tan shirt. Oh, god, why couldn’t I have been created fabric… Even fully covered in those long sleeves, his biceps and triceps looked to be bigger than footballs. And the fact that the Major’s waist was so incredibly small gave testament to the reported leanness of all Level Fives: a body fat level of less than two percent—healthily sustainable only because of Top Secret MASS research. Below this small waist, legs that looked like beer kegs finished out the otherwise indescribable physique.

Having given the two men a few moments to contemplate his body, he smiled, “Welcome to my office, gentlemen. I take it from your reactions, and from the tent you both have growing at your groins, you must see something you like.” He chuckled. “Are you ready for the exercise?”

Willis was able to squeak out a raspy, “Yes, sir.” Kent echoed it.

“As you know,” the Major started, “this exercise is designed to test your self control and discipline.” He pushed his butt off the desk and began to slowly pace back and forth as he talked. “One of the crucial aspects of the MASS program is that you not only grow and enhance your physiques into specimens of muscle superiority—more than any un-enhanced man could ever hope to achieve—but that you also obtain the self-control necessary to use your body to its greatest advantage.” As he walked and turned back and forth, he occasionally gestured with his hands. Any movement he made sent waves of freakishly-bulging muscle rippling under his uniform. “It’s common understanding that MASS soldiers, such as us, are susceptible to homoerotic sthenolagnic stimulation, far more than the un-enhanced man—gay or straight. That’s likely due to the fact that our MASS enlistees show a heightened tendency to appreciate the well-developed male physique—and that appreciation is often expressed in a sexual manner. For us, as I’m sure both of you know, being MASS muscle men means more than just having a superior body and being strong; our beautiful physiques are the expression of our masculine, hyper-sexual desires.”

The Major stepped close to Kent, examining the smaller man’s build. “Our intelligence shows that foreign entities—unfriendly foreign entities—are working to exploit the MASS soldier’s propensity to… how shall we say… appreciate an overly-muscular, good looking man.” He moved to Willis and continued. “If a MASS soldier should be captured, he would most certainly be interrogated—and possibly tortured—using sexual stimulation from a muscular specimen, in an attempt to compromise said soldier.”

Tucker stepped back a bit and examined both men again. “We cannot allow your attraction to male muscle to be used against you. Thence, this exercise—and many future ones like it. We have designed this exercise to test that element of your development: that is, your self-control. Before you can ever be assigned to the field, you’ll need to demonstrate that you can hold your own, in the face of some fucking-beautiful muscle.” He looked down at his body and smiled, looking back up at the men: “And today, that fucking beautiful muscle… is me.”

Both men shuddered with desire.

The Major grinned and resumed pacing back and forth, slowly passing one man closely, then the other. “So, Phase One of the exercise will consist of me exposing my body to you two. I will take off my clothes and let you… look.” He paused and met each man’s gaze, then stopped directly in front of Matthew Kent—very close. He lowered his voice: “You should know, some men don’t make it past even this preliminary phase—me stripping down—without squirting.” He winked at Kent while he let a smirk form on his lips. He walked to Adrian Willis and stood uncomfortably close. “Let me stress this: the only way you will pass is if you walk out this room at the end of the test without having come.” He gave Willis the same smirk, as if to say, Good luck with that. He resumed his slow back-and-forth pacing. “You will be allowed to touch yourselves, masturbate to me, touch me—that is when I give you permission—as well as engage in any kind of sexual expression. However, if you climax—if you ejaculate before the test concludes—you will fail the test and be required to undergo more training before you are allowed to take the test again. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the men said in unison. Their voices were decidedly not confident.

“You should also understand that if you fail the test, it will not be considered shameful in any way. In truth, no man has ever passed the exercise on the first attempt; nearly every trainee requires multiple tries, so please do not interpret a failure as a humiliating defeat. We are here to teach you to deal with your weaknesses, and in fact, to turn those deficiencies into strengths where possible.”

The Major returned to the front of his desk and leaned back on it. Once again he glanced down at his clothed physique, then back up. “Now then, given your reactions when you first saw me, I expect that our session here will be a unique challenge for you both. I’m not going to make any predictions, but I do hope each of you will make every effort to prove my initial suspicions wrong. Again, the whole point of the exercise, from your perspective, is to keep your desires under control. Under no circumstance—regardless of the visual or physical stimulation—are you to have an orgasm. From my perspective, I will do everything I can to make both of you shoot your fucking loads all over my flexing muscle body.” He chuckled while he looked at each man. “And from what I already see in your eyes, I do have to admit a bit of skepticism as to your ability to keep your desires in check. I suspect this test might not be lasting very long.”

Kent winced. The more Major Tucker talked, the harder Kent was getting. The instant he and Willis had entered the office and saw the mind-boggling proportions of the Major, Kent sprang an immediate boner. And the continued exposure to the muscle man—limited as it had been so far, what with that maddening uniform still covering him—only served to make Kent’s confined, contorted cock ache with desire.

Likewise, Willis was confronting dizzying amounts of sexual stimulation, just by the close proximity to this gigantic Adonis. It was as if Tucker had special pheromones designed to drive men crazy! With every close pass of the Major’s stupendous body, Willis dick had jumped. The man just oozed virility, strength and sexuality. His muscular physique was definitely matched by the masculinity that emanated from him.

The Major looked down and moved his hand through the air, as if waving off his dire prediction. “Be that as it may…” he said, “it’s time for the test. Let’s proceed with the first phase.” Pushing himself away from the desk, he stepped toward the men. “Please remove your shoes and socks gentlemen, then strip down to just your skivvies; shorts, no T-shirts.”

Both men hesitantly, but dutifully, stripped down to their undershorts. Their hyper-muscular bodies were hard, ripped and big. The Major noticed, too. Although not even close to the Major’s Level Five, Kent and Willis’ Level Two physiques were nothing to sneeze at. Their tall, muscled bodies turned heads whenever they entered a room; of course, since there were varying Levels of men at Camp Fortitude, they no doubt turned more heads whenever they went off-base. They enjoyed the gawks, stares, and looks of admiration and envy from the civilian men they encountered.

Maj. Tucker watched with keenness as their shirts and pants left their muscular bodies. When they stood at ease again, in only their tighty-whities, their overly-big cocks tented their skivvies quite indecently. Obviously the men were turned on just by looking at the Major’s fully-clothed body. They both blushed.

The Major chuckled. “Don’t worry, Privates. This happens with everyone. There’s nothing wrong with sexual arousal. It’s what you do with that arousal that matters.”

Major Tucker faced his men and commenced taking off his shoes and socks.

The men watched, remaining “at ease” as best they could, but they were obviously sexually stimulated by what was happening. The Major was taking an excruciatingly long time.

Having discarded his shoes and socks, the Major stood up. Even without shoes, the man had to be well over six-and-a-half feet. He unclasped his military-issue belt (short as it was, due to his svelte waistline), keeping his steely eyes on his men.

Private Kent actually let out a soft moan.

Major Tucker undid his pants button. While still studying his “captives,” he slowly, seductively, unzipped his zipper.

Willis absentmindedly licked his lips, garnering him a broad smile from the Major.

Tucker pulled his pants open, exposing skivvies as white as his gorgeous smile. Under the cotton: a bulge the size of Texas. He looked at his crotch, then up at the men. Then at their own bulges. “I’d say today’s exercise is going to be ‘hard’ for you, in more ways than one,” he smiled.

Holy hell. The man’s cock was like some kind of a python! It was thick and long—too long for the shorts that attempted to contain it, actually. The organ pressed against the thin fabric with such virility and power that you could totally see the network of veins that fed it. The cut around the helmet was clearly visible, forcing itself to form an imprint under the material. Major Tucker pressed his long fingers inside his pants—but outside his skivvies—under his enormous genitals, and hefted the package out, so that it now hung suspended in front of his slacks; the zipper of his pants hooked under the back of his balls, and the bright white cotton bulge just hovered there for all to see.

Turning now to his upper-body clothing, the Major undid a button at the top of his uniform’s shirt. Then, stopping, he looked up at the Privates: “You know, I always hate taking off these shirts, don’t you? So time-consuming.” He admired his covered upper arms again, then with the practiced gracefulness of an experienced bodybuilder, he lifted each gigantic bazooka slowly. He stretched out his arms, keeping them relatively straight and horizontal. They swelled and hardened, and even in this extended position, his fucking huge upper arms pushed his sleeves to their limit.

Holy fucking fuck! Both men knew what was coming, and the thought of Tucker bending his massive arms—and tearing his sleeves open—made their cocks ratchet up another painful level of intensity.

Major Tucker bent his arms, slowly lifting his thick forearms, moving into a standard double-biceps pose. But holy shit! There was nothing standard about Tucker’s biceps. The mounds rose into magnificent peaks, causing the fabric of the Major’s shirt to slowly rip apart. The sleeves never stood a chance against the swelling size and hardness that now destroyed them. Masses of arm muscle that defied belief slowly emerged from beneath the tearing fabric. Twin peaks of veiny, pointed biceps muscles grew and grew. Tucker slightly gritted his teeth, and studying one arm, then the other, he methodically rent asunder his uniform sleeves, tearing them from the top of the now-pointed peaks, around and down until his triceps joined in the magnificent effort, bulging to complete the separation—even while his arms were bent. The entire circumference of the material ripped in two—completely severing the torso of the shirt from the sleeves, right at the upper arms.

His mind-boggling arms were immense. He looked at his left arm, all flexed to hell, then at his equally astounding right one. Then, smiling at the two entranced Privates, he tightened his arms even more.

Adrian Willis swallowed, trying to push back an audible gasp. His heart raced. The adrenalin in his body pulsed through his veins—a special allowance seeming to center, along with a fresh infusion of cock-hardening blood, at his genitals; it made him light-headed. And Adrian was in perfect physical condition. But when the cock calls for more blood, other areas of the body—such as center of consciousness—are bound to suffer.

Tucker twisted his forearms, and his biceps bounced. Goddamn Fuck! They were beyond belief: Lean, rippling with striations and veins, throbbing with size and power. How could a man have arms this size?!

He lowered his arms to his sides, and the sleeves—still buttoned at the wrists—fell down on his arms as far as they could. While Tucker gingerly unbuttoned each one, his fucking enormous triceps rippled and bulged with jaw-dropping size and definition. Once each sleeve was laying on the floor, the Major continued “taking off” his shirt.

He brought his wrists in front of his waist and, tensing his entire body into what both lusting Privates knew was supposed to be a most-muscular pose— but more resembled something like a space monster somehow manufacturing human muscle—he bulged and flexed into the most freakish—yet entirely sensually beautiful—pose. His shirt popped and ripped at his shoulders, back and chest.

Kent—wide-eyed—couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Sure, the Major’s shirt had been tight to begin with. Even a custom-made shirt couldn’t hope to contain that amount of muscle. But now, enlarged and pumped in this most-muscular pose, Tucker’s body just throbbed with power. Kent’s boner tightened with pain. He wanted to do nothing more at that moment than to push on his crotch and start filling his shorts with his muscle-worship cream.

Willis’ skivvies were getting wet with his pre-cum. He gawked while Tucker relaxed from his pose and stood up tall.

Most of the Major’s shirt fell to the floor in tatters now. One piece, on his left shoulder, was apparently reluctant to leave its position, and Tucker flicked it off. He smiled, now completely devoid of upper-body clothing. “That’s better.” His smile grew into a grin. “Requisitions keeps complaining that I go through too many shirts this way, so I have to occasionally visit their office. Once they see the reason, they set me up with as many as I want,” he chuckled. “Although…” his face took on faux concern, “for some reason, I have to visit them again and again, about once a month, to demonstrate my need for more. I think they just want to see me rip the shirts apart, just by flexing—and then I usually show off my muscles for them afterward. They always like that,” he winked.

Kent moaned, then let a “Oh fuuuuuck,” escape from his mouth.

“You know, ordinarily I would reprimand you for an outburst like that,” the Major scolded. “But I have empathy for your plight, Private Kent—Matthew, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” Kent answered staring (as best he could) straight ahead.

“Well, Private, like I said, being turned on by my big muscles isn’t wrong. It’s what you do with those desires that matters. So, during this exercise, I won’t mark you down for your verbal expressions.” He kept his eyes on Kent’s handsome face, and for a split second, Willis saw a flash of desire in the Major’s eyes. And as quickly as that desire had traveled across the Major’s face, a pang of jealousy growled in Adrian Willis’ gut. Matthew Kent was one of the most gorgeous men Willis had ever met; he and Matt copulated every night, and often during the day. What did that look on Tucker’s face mean? Well it was obvious what it meant, and Willis didn’t like it.

With Tucker’s shirt now absent, and his pants unzipped and displaying his Army-issue underwear (and the inhuman bulge it contained), the Major leaned his ass back onto his desk, and returned his hands to its edge. Now uncovered, his freakin’ huge arms rippled with striations and rolling muscle fibers. His colossal biceps each held a virile, gorgeous, bulging cephalic vein that ran the length of his upper arms. The Major’s upper body was one fucking mega muscle organ… or something… Whatever… Both of the men staring at it were at a loss to form coherent trains of thought. Trapezius, deltoids, pecs, abs and obliques… arms from some other planet… they all were so fucking big. And they all tied together to form an upper body that, if the men hadn’t received sexual resistance training, would easily cause them to spontaneously erupt with uncontrollable orgasmic ejaculations. But of course, they couldn’t. Not if they hoped to pass this test. What each man wondered, of course, was whether their sex-resistance training would be enough to get them through to the end of the exercise.

The Major had apparently enjoyed his little shirt-ripping sequence; his now-barely covered cock had been growing while he flexed. He looked at it hovering in front of his pants, then smiled up at the lusting men. Noticing their dumfounded expressions, he said, “Looks tempting, huh?”

Without waiting for a response, he looked back down at it; he fondled himself, moving his fingertips over the outside of the white cotton.

Kent swore that the thing moved.

Tucker’s veiny hand, powered by an equally veiny forearm, squeezed it. He looked up and watched his men while they stared. “I do believe you guys are getting aroused,” he smiled.

After a moment of this kind of teasing, Tucker stood from his ass-leaning position at the front of his desk. He started tugging at his trousers’ waistline. It took some work and some shimmying, but he finally pushed the pants down. He bent forward, keeping his legs straight, forcing his trousers to the floor. His gigantic upper legs didn’t let it happen without a fight, though. Kent could only guess that the scene at the Major’s back side—that tight ass pouting upward—must have been an orgasm waiting to happen.

The Major stood tall now, and with no pause, he pushed his white skivvies down. Under his underwear, he wore very immodest posing trunks—more of a thong than anything that would be allowed in a bodybuilding show. Like the pants before, the tighty-whities fought and resisted moving down over the Major’s impossibly large upper legs, but eventually the commanding officer’s rippling arms drove them down; they joined the pants at his feet. Tucker stepped out of them and smiled at his muscle-worshipping men.

Holy fucking shit. The man wasn’t a man. He was a fucking god. The term Muscle God didn’t even do him justice. Both men—mouths agape, and nearly in the throes of involuntary orgasm from the sexual stimulation of just looking at this nearly-naked physique—called upon every technique they had been taught in the MASS program to tamp down their arousal. Their efforts were barely effective.

Major Tucker stood there, relaxed. Even without flexing, the size, vascularity, ripped leanness, and fucking amazing aesthetically perfect proportions caused both Privates to wince with heretofore untapped desire. Fucking what would happen when he actually started posing? When he actually let them touch?

Private Kent seriously wondered how long he could take this. His cock, tightly encased in white cotton, screamed for release. He tried closing his eyes in order to stave off an orgasm, but of course he couldn’t help but open them right away. It would take ten men to force him to stop looking at all that beautiful muscle.

For his part, Adrian Willis began to wonder when, not if he would involuntarily succumb to the Major’s enormous body of perfect muscle. He secretly abandoned all hope of passing the test. There’s no way in hell I’ll be able to keep from coming all over those muscles. He justified the surrender by reminding himself that no one had ever passed the test the first time. But how many times would it take for him to pass? Would he ever be able to successfully resist the onslaught of this kind of muscle stimulation?

Major Tucker smiled at the men’s crotches. “Well, I see you both must see something you like.” 

After allowing the men time to catch what they could of their breath, the Level Five Major—now wearing only a scandalously tiny posing strap—raised his arms into a tilted double biceps pose. Looking directly at the forward upper arm, he twisted it into a fantastic display of perfectly formed pure muscle a full 28 inches (71.1 cm) in diameter—at least that’s what the rumors were: twenty-fucking-eight inches of upper arm muscle! Tucker rotated his clenched fist slightly so that he could enjoy the sight of his own corbeling biceps meat roll hard and and then peak high, filled with painfully chiseled meat. The uppermost peak was graced with a great cephalic rope of size-enhancing veining that pushed his tight, thin skin to its very limits.

The two nearly-naked, lusting Privates watched in awe as muscle upon incomprehensible muscle bulged, grew, and undulated in front of their eyes.

Then Major Tucker opened his closed fingers over the top of his gargantuan flexed biceps, and began to fondle his own mountainous muscle peak. His daunting pecs quivered with heavy excitement at his digital stimulation. He fingered the biceps’ distended cephalic vein with his fingers.

Kent and Willis struggled to remain motionless, yet the bulges in their crotches refused to keep still. They bounced with desire.

Vacuumed abs exaggerated the 38 inch difference between Tucker’s 32 inch waist and 70 inch chest. And those pecs! Fucking holy shit! They swelled with magnificent size and definition. They cantilevered out over his abs; his nipples were forced to point down at the floor, because of all the humongous pectoral mass on which they were mounted. The excitement the Major was experiencing—just looking at the expressions on his drooling men—was becoming more than the tiny strap of poser fabric that covered his loins could bear. The Major's swelling cock pulled the overpowered waistband from his lower abdominal core, revealing a tantalizing portion of his vein-lined cock shaft.

The teasing glimpse of the Major’s pubic hair, and the enormous trunk that threatened to burst forth from Tucker’s posers made Willis and Kent insane with overwhelming desire. They were so close to bursting with sexual stimulation at the display of all this virile muscle! Their own military-issue skivvies bulged with the strain of their growing muscle cocks—cocks that were as enhanced as their own muscular physiques.

Completely visible under the thin satin fabric, Tucker’s collared crown grew ripe with arousal; it was lengthening and thickening as he posed his body. And as it pulled the fabric down and out at the front of the posers, the thin line of material at his back side had to have been digging deep into the crack between his flexed glutes. His enhanced body—bigger and more muscularly astounding than either of his captives could put their minds around—pumped and bulged, growing bigger with every new flex. And as he posed, and his penis grew, the fabric was pulling down even farther, revealing more of his trimmed pubic hair, and multiple inches of his thick, veiny shaft. The main artery feeding the organ led downward from just below Tucker’s belly button, into the dark brown, trimmed forest of pubes, then emerged on the penis itself before the pouch hid it again a few inches lower. The vein pulsed with life-giving blood, bifurcating into vessels that wrapped all over the throbbing cock. it looked not unlike the cephalic veins on his arms: fucking gorgeous examples of lean virility.

Willis and Kent watched, hopelessly entranced with the gigantic muscle body. The Major turned around and revealed a back that rippled with so much defined muscle, it was as if snakes were crawling around under his skin. Latissimus dorsi fanned out like twin giant clam shells. A Christmas tree was mounted in the center of Tucker’s back. The back of his legs—hamstrings like phone poles—vibrated with flexing power. And the incredible immensity of that undulating back narrowed down to two, tight spheres of ass muscle. The men’s suspicions had been correct: The thin string of fabric that joined the bottom of the pouch, between the legs, to the back strap that hugged the Major’s waist, was totally buried, unseen in the fissure between his compacted globes of gluteal magnificence.

When he turned around to face his awestruck admirers again, Tucker’s dick had hardened even more. Obviously, he was becoming more and more aroused by the fact that he was arousing the two men more and more. The cock was lengthening to the point that the fabric which struggled to contain his monumental organ wasn’t going to last much longer. It was when the major presented yet another full-on double biceps pose that the over-strained material finally surrendered to the mounting power of his cock. With a soft rip, the now useless fabric fell to the floor. “Oops! Sorry about that gentlemen,” he apologized as his soaring cock rose up from his immaculately trimmed groin. He stepped out of the shreds and flicked them to the side with one of his toes. “This seems to happen more and more as I advance in my overall muscular development, but you two certainly are familiar with that… as I can see.”

Sure enough, the tight white skivvies worn by both Willis and Kent were pushing so hard at their overburdened crotch area due to their overwhelming lust at the site of the wonderfully enhanced body of their Base Commander, all three men knew it wouldn’t be long before their skivvies met the same fate as the Major’s thong.

Tucker's cock did not seem apologetic at all as it stiffened to a staunch 15 inches of glorious fulfillment. It was the most amazing, rigid, vein-lined organ either of the Privates had ever seen. It dripped with sensual superiority. Tucker looked down at his monolith of masculine fulfillment. He admired it. He looked up at Willis and Kent and smiled. “You like looking at it?” he taunted. 

Fuck the gods! It was the most beautiful, virile appendage on the planet. Had to be. It throbbed with hardness; it was wet with Tucker’s clear sex fluid. And thick? The shaft was closer to the thickness of the Alexa cylinders in their squite than a beer can. At least that’s what the wide eyes of the Privates seemed to see!

If the men had been on the verge of insanity watching the Major flex with his thong on, seeing this thing rise and extend from his crotch as it grew toward vertical—well it was all they could do to just hold their breath and pray. Willis clenched his fists and closed his eyes, trying with all his might to avoid spontaneous eruption. His body vibrated with intensity, tightening into a vision of amazing, flexing muscle. Kent hissed a, “Ssssshhhhhhiiiiiiit,” and began panting fast. The panting was a technique the men had been taught to resist this kind of desire, and it was a tacit admission that Matthew Kent was reaching into the very bottom of his tool bag.

“I can only guess how much you men would enjoy touching it. I assure you, your trembling hands have never felt any cock as hard and as big as this. I have to tell you, owning such a fantastic organ is beyond amazing. It’s so big and hard. I guarantee you, no one who’s ever touched it has been disappointed.”

The Privates continued their resistance efforts.

“How about you, Kent?” the Major grinned. He drew the tip of his forefinger up the impossibly long and thick, veiny, pulsing shaft. “You’d love to give me a nice, long, slow, slippery stroke, right Matthew? Maybe just hold it for half a minute? Feel my heartbeat in it?”

He looked at Willis. “And you, Adrian? Can you tell me what you’d be willing to give, in order to wrap your hand around this thing? Give it a long, leisurely lick? Put your lips on it? What do you think it tastes like? Did you ever think you’d get a chance to give something like this a nice long, wet blowjob?” He looked down at his enormous erection once again, and slowly stroked it.

Both of the men silently wept at the vision of masculine pulchritude and overwhelming physical virility that protruded from the Major’s crotch—not to mention the extraordinary physique on which it was mounted. Tucker’s magnificent muscle body, even at ease, was mind-blowing and difficult to comprehend—even though there it was, only feet in front of the lust-struck Privates. The Major’s incomprehensible muscle physique undulated with untold strength.

Tucker looked at the men’s crotches and chuckled. “I’m sorry, gentlemen. You are both getting so hard from looking at me, it must be very painful.”

Both men blushed with their inability to conceal their lust, but they secretly acknowledge the Major’s point. God, their cocks hurt.

“Let’s see if we can’t do something about that,” Tucker said. With that, he lifted his hands behind his head and whooshed out the air from his lungs. All hell broke loose on his torso as a million muscles danced around his abs and intercostals. His obliques pushed into prominence as the skin shrink-wrapped around each defined finger of virility. His dripping cock shaft grew higher. He smiled at the men. His cock bounced with his pulse.

Both men whimpered and mumbled expletives.

Tucker chuckled again. He stood erect, and then just studied his mammoth shaft while he bobbed it up and down, just by flexing it.

The two Privates, helpless to conceal the erections growing in their fatigues because of the unimaginable muscle and genitals flexing before them, just stood there, gawking at the Major’s inhuman muscular development. With their every heartbeat, their cocks grew and distended—threatening to rip through the fabric that tried desperately to contain them.

“Good,” Tucker smiled. “It shouldn’t be but a minute now.” He continued his graceful flexing. He twisted and turned his huge, carved muscles to their greatest visual advantage. With each flex, he smiled at his captive’s lusting reaction. The cabled girth of his 43 inch thighs pushed his fisted, shaved testicles up from their nest of inner leg meat, exposing their heavy fullness. God, those lemon-sized balls were low-hangers! Tucker obviously enjoyed fondling his peaked biceps. Occasionally he glanced at his two wide-eyed admirers, and apparently spurred on by their mindless lusting and staring, he flexed harder, just to drive them even closer to the edge.

Sure enough, both pair of underwear were strained almost beyond the limits of their fabric as the two cocks swelled to hardened readiness at the sight of the insanely muscled body. Each man’s enormous boner was as hard as it had ever been—and being bent downward, inside their shorts, it was unbelievably painful. Kent’s underwear was the first to give an audible, yet very small ripping noise as the fabric at his crotch began to lose the battle with the cock it contained. Willis’ skivvies also began to separate at the seam that prevented his painfully-contained shaft to stick upward, as it so desperately wanted to do.

Tucker lifted his gigantic arms once again into a double biceps pose. He put one leg slightly in front of the other, and the tensed every muscle in his body. At the same time, he again bounced his cock, waving it at the aroused Privates, to mock their lack of self control.

That was it. Neither Private’s skivvies could contain their mounting erections any longer. With an unceremonious rrrrrrrrip, Kent’s underwear opened. The destroyed material fell to the ground as the power of his cock saluted the superior, masculine, gigantic body of muscle before him.

Unable to deny the erotic and muscular superiority of Tucker’s body, Willis’ cock now followed Kent’s lead, ripping open the shorts that had reached the limit of containing it. Willis’ skivvies also fell to the ground as his enormous shaft sprang forward and up.

"Nice! Very nice!" Tucker smiled as Kent's 14 inch man-pole and Willis’ 13 inch monster launched into view atop their fantastic, muscular thighs.

The clear pre-cum fluid spewing from Tucker’s unrivaled shaft was mirrored in the dripping drool from Willis’ and Kent's bloated cock heads. Now free from the constrains of their clothing, the two cocks rose to fully erect and straight. Without even thinking, both men began masturbating to the Major. Their hands instinctively grasped their rigid organs and began to race up and town their shafts while the image of Tucker’s body resumed its posing routine from hell—a routine that was obviously designed to render the men insane with lust.

"Much better, gentlemen." Tucker smiled, admiring his men’s genitals. “Your erections are magnificent. You both like my muscles, huh? Well, your physiques are so nice, and your erections are quite impressive. Your MASS training and regimen is coming along quite well.” He turned to a side-chest pose; his giant organ stuck to the side like a branch growing from a tree. “I like that you want to touch yourselves when you look at me. That’s good,” he said, smiling at their energetic jacking. “I appreciate the compliments. Masturbate to me.” He rippled and waved his chest at the men, then solidified it into stone. “Does this do anything for you?”

The men winced; their muscular bodies were tight. They began to glisten with the sweat of their exertions.

Major Tucker grinned. “Nice.” He turned slightly to one side, then straightened his forward arm into a triceps pose. The goddamn thing grew into a cratered planet!

The men’s hands jumped up and down their shafts. Kent moaned audibly, masturbating the hell out of his hardened member.

The Major smiled. “Good. Very good. Jack of over me, gentlemen. You know you love looking at my muscles.” He transitioned into a tilted back biceps pose, lowering his right arm down to his left, presenting his rippling traps, deltoids, arms, and lats to his jacking worshipers. His freakish arms were bigger than either man thought possible, and their obvious solidness was demonstrated in the way the muscle fibers danced all over them. Nowhere on Tucker’s stupendous body was there any fat evident. Nor did he ever, in any way, look out of proportion. His giant muscles never looked anything but gracefully aesthetic.

He stood tall and relaxed again, smirking while the two men whipped their hands up and down, unable to control their lust for his physique. Then his countenance dropped when he seemed to realize the men were going too far, too fast. “Alright, men,” he said. “It’s time to stop. We wouldn’t want you to come too soon, would we?”

Neither man responded. Their huge forearms were tight with their grips as their hands thrust up and down their pained cocks, bringing them closer and closer to climax with each powerful, fast stroke. Their bodies vibrated with the amazing effort they were putting forth: to fulfill their sexual desires over Tucker’s sumptuous body.

“Boys, you wouldn’t want me to put my clothes back on, would you?”

Both men slowed down, but neither had the willpower to stop. The Major’s muscle body was simply driving them nuts.

“Gentlemen, stop,” he said. “That’s an order.”

The Privates reluctantly ceased their vigorous stroking. With pain visible on their faces they stood erect. Their organs throbbed and bobbed in the air, now having been abandoned by their stimulating hands. Both men winced in the excruciating agony of having to interrupt their masturbatory worship of the muscle god before them.

“Much better,” Tucker condescended. “That’s better. I really want to give you a chance to survive this test—at least as long as possible. I’ve had too many young men like yourselves loose their wads way too soon, and honestly, that kinda ruins all the fun. So, for a few minutes at least, I want you to stand at ease. Don’t touch yourselves. At least that will give you a fighting chance to stave off your orgasms.” 

Once again, Tucker began flexing. It was unbelievably agonizing for the two men. He put a hand on one of his upper legs, wiggled it back and forth by rotating his ankle, and then, bam! He tightened it into a hardened, frozen, steel beam of weaved muscle. He did it again. Then he did it on his other leg. He looked up from his leg and smiled at the men. “Makes you want to touch yourselves again, doesn’t it? When you watch me flex my huge muscles, you want to jerk off, no?” He lifted one arm and flexed its biceps. It hardened into a Matterhorn-like peak of gorgeous, towering muscle.

When he turned around to show off his back development once again, as soon as the men were out of his sightline, Willis brought his hand to his shaft and resumed stroking. Kent followed suit. Acres of waving muscle rippled across Tucker’s Herculean back. His insanely wide lats narrowed down to a tiny waist, which was held firmly in place by those two gorgeous glutes. Taut, firm ass globes wriggled and danced; the men moaned while they intensified their subversive jerking off. But as soon as Tucker’s body slowly began to rotate around, both men pulled their hands off their red cocks and resumed an “attention” stance. They looked like two little boys trying not to get caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Both men had wide, scared eyes. Both men looked guilty as hell.

Tucker ignored their childish attempt at cheating, simply saying, “Privates, attention isn’t necessary; at ease will suffice.” Then he continued to pose. Muscles billowed from other muscles. Tucker’s magnificence was unrivaled. His physique—composed of the most brilliant, protruding, hard, undulating musculature that any person could imagine—had no peer. Bigger and more powerful than any mere mortal. This body was truly worthy of worship. His waistline was way smaller than either of his gigantic upper legs. His shoulders were as wide as two men, and capped by spheres of deltoid muscle seemingly as large as watermelons. But due to his height of well over six-and-a-half feet, in spite of all that stupefying muscle, he didn’t look squatty or stubby at all. His was a long, graceful, deliciously-muscled physique.

His chest was dizzying. His trapezius muscles were like two river rocks that framed his thick neck. Goddamn, that gorgeous, powerful-looking neck! His abdominals repeated the river rock look. They were shrink-wrapped with the thinnest of tanned skin, making it appear there was no skin there at all; the valleys between each row and column of ab muscle were so deep, you could easily place a pencil in them. The inhuman abs were just defined, separated, mounding muscle. His legs were immeasurably gargantuan.

A pair of painfully-stiff cock shafts stuck out from the men’s groins, saluting the superior officer’s muscle body, each one throbbing with desire.

His posing went on for quite awhile before he eventually took a few steps forward. He approached the naked, aroused men. “Alright, men, keep your hands to yourselves.” He stopped a few feet in front of the men. “I wouldn’t want to have to punish either of you.” He flexed some more, then relaxed, eyeing the astounding muscles of his two captives. “You both have some wonderful bodies there,” he smiled. “I wonder which of you will be my choice to fuck first.”

Both men moaned, almost silently, at the prospect. At this point in time, the mind games Tucker was playing with them made each man boil with desire. Being taken by the impossibly massive muscle body that stood in front of them—it was more than either of them could dream of.

“I get the impression both of you would be interested in letting me stick this thing up your ass,” he smirked while he held his own shaft. “Do you think you’d be able to take it? It’s kinda big. And thick. And long—as if you hadn’t noticed, huh… Well, who knows? Maybe one of you will last that long. Of course if you come, though, the exercise will have to end without you experiencing the sheer bliss of having this thing fuck your pouting ass.”

He looked up and moved directly in front of Kent. “Tell me,” he grinned as his throbbing, rippling globes of pectoral wonder flexed, “You’ve always been a pec man, haven’t you, Kent?” He rolled his chest in slow, sensual waves. “You want to touch my chest, don’t you.” He stood close to Kent and just flexed his pecs… together, then alternating, then together. “You always did strike me as a man who can’t resist a well-developed chest. Does this do anything for you?” He smiled while he looked down at Kent’a pained expression. He stiffened, then relaxed his chest muscles right in front of the salivating man’s face. “You’d like to feel this, wouldn’t you.”


Then he turned to Willis, “You’re a man who really appreciates big, thick muscles, right Willis?” He glanced down at the Private’s stanchion. “Yes, I guess you do. I can only imagine how much you’re enjoying this. My muscles—they’re kind of big,” he grinned. “I’ve been told that you are an ass man, right Willis? Have you been looking at my glutes? I bet you’d give anything to put your hands on them.” He slowly turned around, then bent forward in a graceful bow. Grasping his ankles, he puffed up his hard butt, sticking it up at Willis’ moaning face. The ass muscles undulated. Tucker’s red, wet sphincter opened and closed. Then his glutes hardened into two boulders. Then he relaxed them and repeated the taunting. He stood up and turned around to face Willis. He looked down at his impossibly big and hard erection. Like a sales model showing off some kind of wonderful product, he gracefully moved his hand up his shaft. Then he did it again. He slowly fondled himself, with an open hand, up and down. “Don’t you wish you were doing this to me, instead of my own hand?” Then to Kent: “And you too?”

He chuckled, then resumed flexing his enormous muscles while the Privates watched.

When it looked like Willis and Kent could take no more, Tucker stepped even closer to them. He put one hand under Kent’s rock-hard balls, and the other under Willis’ own twin orbs. “My, my,” Tucker chuckled, “you both have very nice ball sacs. Very nice.” He tickled both men’s perineums, eliciting a moan from each man. Then he brought each hand up to the men’s shafts. While he gave each man a slow, long stroke he purred, “Oh my… you both are so hard. Has looking at all of my muscles made you hard like this? Did you get these boners just because of me showing off? Because I let you look at my muscles? That is so sweet!” He said with a snarky chuckle. He stroked them with the open-handed gracefulness he’d used on his own cock a moment ago. “Apparently you both must really like to look at my muscles.” He held his hands on their cocks, slowly nursing them. Keeping his hands in a slow, erotic stroking motion, up and down; up and down, he said, “Private Willis, go ahead. Touch me. Anywhere you want.”

Not one to disobey a legal order if he could help it, Willis reached over and began fondling Tucker’s incredible cock shaft.

Tucker smiled, “Oh, I see you found something you like.” He flexed his cock in Willis’ trembling hand, and Willis instinctively gripped it harder. “Mmmmmm…” the Major purred. “That feels good.” He let Willis touch him for quite a long time, then said, “Okay, that’s enough.” He stepped back a bit, and Willis’ hand sadly fell of the inhumanly big and hard penis, as Tucker’s hand likewise slipped off Willis’ own member. “Your turn, Kent,” he said. Kent brought his hand to the cock, just as Willis had done. Tucker chuckled as he flexed his mighty pole in Kent’s hand now. “I think both of you men have a one-track mind,” he smiled, watching the worshipping Kent stroke his vertical shaft. “All the muscles on my body to choose from, and both of you immediately go for my sex organ,” he smirked. “What is it about my cock that so fascinates you?” He flexed it again in Kent’s trembling hand. Kent tightened his grip, and stroked it. And again. Tucker was letting Kent stroke and touch a lot longer than he’d allowed Willis.

Willis watched intently while his partner began a more earnest application of his hand to the Major’s veiny cock. Was Tucker actually… enjoying Kent’s work? Well, obviously he was enjoying it, but Willis could swear he saw a look of… hesitation, or weakness in the Major’s eyes, as Private Kent masturbated the muscle giant. Tucker let out a whimper. Yes! His eyes squinted, and went half-closed just for a second. He gave out a grunt, obviously receiving much pleasure from Matthew Kent’s hand. Kent seemed to sense he was being effective, and he tightened his grip, sloshing his hand up and down the Major’s slippery penis harder and faster.

“Ohhhh, that… feels really… gooood,” Tucker moaned. His eyes glazed. Kent continued to jack off the muscle god. And the Major seemed to be slipping. He looked at the ceiling, apparently searching for strength. For willpower. But Kent was sooooo good. And gorgeous. And virulently masculine.

Suddenly, as if Maj. Tucker had suddenly realized what was happening, his eyes opened wide. He took an abrupt step backward, moving away from Kent’s ministrations. “That will be enough, Private,” he said. Kent’s hand slipped off the steel-hard, dripping pipe. Tucker stood at attention for a few seconds. He was obviously collecting himself. Kent’s hand had really gotten to him. The Major took a few deep breaths. Now standing about five feet from both men, he quickly recovered. His faced returned to its sly, superior countenance.

“Well, enough of that for right now,” he said, clearing his throat. “It’s time to move onto the next phase of the exercise.”

He glanced at Matthew Kent and immediately averted his gaze from the Private’s gorgeous, square-jawed face. Willis saw it. Was the Major particularly attracted to Kent? “Now we move into a more direct part of the exercise,” Tucker said. “Things will get a little more hands-on now.” He stepped to Kent, then he kneeled. He took Kent’s waist in his hands and pulled him close. Kent’s steel-hard cock pushed into the cleavage of Tucker’s thick chest. The Major started rolling his pecs, enveloping Kent’s dripping cock in the warm canyon of muscle. “I wonder,” Tucker smiled up at his captive, “do you think I could bring you to climax—with just my chest? Just by wrapping your cock between my pectorals, and masturbating you with my chest?” Kent’s steel pole actually disappeared and reappeared in the crevasse formed by Tucker’s gargantuan, waving, rippling pectorals. Kent tipped his head back and closed his eyes, eliciting the loudest groan of the session so far. The Major grinned. “I bet it wouldn’t take very long at all for me to masturbate your wonderful cock pole to a beautiful climax. Would you like that, Matthew? To squirt your seed all over me? Just by sticking your penis between my pecs like this, and letting me massage it? Would you like that? Would you want to cum on my face and chest?” He continued the torture. “I kinda think you would. You know you’re close.”

Kent opened his eyes and looked down at the muscle man that defied description.

“But don’t come. Resist it,” Tucker said. “See how long you can hold off.” He rolled his pecs more, and Kent’s entire shaft disappeared into the warm, enveloping muscles. “After all, you do want to past the test, don’t you?” The pecs waved and tightened around Kent’s cock, massaging it with strong, titillating undulations and quivering ripples. The striations of the Major’s cleavage moved and surrounded Kent’s member, and the helpless man, unable to do anything but bury his cock even deeper in the delicious, massive chest, moaned in agony.

“I take it you like how this feels,” Tucker said. “But remember. Don’t come. I know it’s a strain, but you must fight it. Can you hold off? Even under such wonderful stimulation? Does my chest turn you on? Do you like having your penis held captive? Deep within my chest muscles? Does this feel good, Matthew?”

Again Kent moaned as his head fell back and his eyes closed. Then his face tightened and winced. He gritted his teeth. He looked back down at the Major who was grinning.

Tucker had hardened his pecs around the pole, tightening it more than he’d tightened it before. “Don’t come, Matt. Resist it.” He completely buried Kent’s manhood, then pushed and squeezed it. The only visible portion of Kent’s huge cock was the purple, wet crown—the cock head. It stuck up toward Tucker’s chin, and it throbbed, clearly close to climax. “Does this feel good? You aren’t going to be able to keep your semen inside, are you. You can’t control yourself when you see me flex my big muscles, and when you feel my hard, warm muscles, can you. And when I grab your cock with my pecs, it drives you crazy with lust, doesn’t it? You want to come on me so bad, don’t you.” With that, the major relaxed his hardened pec muscles, releasing Kent’s red, veiny, hard shaft. He pulled back and stood up, grinning down at the moaning man. Kent’s hand—his stroking hand—trembled as it moved toward his crotch. He so needed to finish this.

“No,” Tucker ordered. “No touching yourself.”

Kent groaned in agony.

Tucker turned to Private Willis. “Well, let’s give you a turn, okay?” He grinned at Willis and continued, “Once I bend into position, go ahead and put your cock in my crack.” He lifted a forefinger and wagged it in Willis’ face. “No penetration though, Adrian. I’m going to masturbate you just with my ass muscles, kinda like I just did to Matthew with my chest.” He rolled his pecs in Willis’ face, smiled, turned around, and bent over again, assuming the position he’d held earlier, but now close enough to Willis for contact.

There was no way in hell Willis could resist that ass. Almost before the Major was completely bent over and pouting his crack at the whimpering Private, Willis’ throbbing cock meat was lying in between the two glutes, not unlike a delicious hot dog nestled between two buns—just waiting for the condiments.

Tucker’s insanely beautiful ass tightened around Willis’ cock, enveloping it, pulling it inside its closing valley. The butt writhed with erotic ministrations as it surrounded Willis’ quivering shaft. As his chest had done with Kent’s cock, Tucker’s ass was now completely enfolding Willis’ pole. It held the massive penis tightly, in a cocoon of taut ass muscle. And like with Kent, the muscles began to wave and move up and down Willis’ shaft, slowly, then more quickly, massaging him with glorious swells and painful tightenings.

“I bet you’d kinda like to stick that erection of yours inside me, huh?” Tucker taunted from his bent-over position. “But that’s not gonna happen, buddy. You’ll just have to enjoy while I masturbate you with my ass cheeks.”

Willis moaned, and repeating Kent’s reaction to this unbelievably erotic stimulation, he closed his eyes and let his head tip back.

Now, though, it was clear by Willis’ breathing and pushing against the Major’s ass, that he was quickly nearing the precipice. Tucker stepped away, stood up and turned to Willis. “Whoa, that was close.”

Willis groaned with the frustration of interrupted masturbation.

“You certainly didn’t last as long as your compatriot, here,” Tucker said, cocking his head toward Kent. “Oh well. I have to admit though, it was kind of fun wrapping my ass around your erection. You have one big cock, Private.”

Tucker stepped back, lifted his gigantic arms into a double biceps pose and grinned. Again, he treated his lusting audience to a series of mind-numbing poses, occasionally reminding them to not masturbate to his muscles, no matter how much they wanted to.

In a few minutes, the Major relaxed, stood erect, and faced his two worshippers. “Okay, gentlemen. You’ve both showed remarkable self control, given the stimulation. But now comes the hardest part of the exercise, pun intended,” he chuckled. “The next—and final—phase is something any MASS soldier might possibly face if taken captive by the enemy. So in this last phase, it’s of the utmost importance that you call upon all the self-control techniques you’ve received in your training. 

“I’m now going to assume the roll of your captor. It’s entirely likely that if you’re caught behind enemy lines, you will be exposed to this kind of… well…” He developed a sly smile. “…well, there’s no other word for it than torture,” he grinned. “Just remember, the only way you’ll pass this test is to leave this room without coming, regardless of what I tell you to do. If I tell you to come, don’t. If I tell you it’s okay to come, and that I’m suspending the exercise, it’s a ruse. You will not pass this test if you do not leave this room without coming. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.” both men said with raspy voices.

“Very well.” Major Tucker approached Private Kent first; he smiled down at the huge 20-year-old. He leaned forward slowly. Instinctively, Matthew Kent cocked his head up to meet the Major’s lips. Kent let out a deep moan as they started to kiss. Tucker’s tongue was warm and very invasive. Kent stood as still as he could, but his body trembled with desire. The Major—with all that supreme, gorgeous muscle—was raping his mouth with his tongue! Kent’s heart rate spiked. God-almighty this felt good. He summoned every piece of training, every aspect of his self-control—to just not put his hands on Tucker’s huge body while they kissed.

But Tucker didn’t need to show such discipline. He put his hands on the Private’s ass and pulled him close. He felt out Kent’s huge body. Finally, Kent lifted his hands and put them around Tucker’s gigantic muscles. The men embraced, and Kent felt his knees weakening. After over a full minute of kissing, touching and caressing, Tucker put his hand on Kent’s hard and swollen shaft and gave him a few strokes. Then, likewise, Kent touched the Major’s superior member and whimpered as the two men began slowly and erotically started masturbating each other.

Tucker pulled his mouth off Kent’s and said softly, “God, you are the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen, Matthew. When we’re done with this exercise, pass or fail, I’d like to invite you to my private barracks, if you don’t mind.”

Kent whimpered, gazing up into the muscle god’s eyes. Tucker took his hand off Kent’s throbbing cock. But Kent wasn’t ready to lose the stimulation. He moaned in agony, then pulled his hand off the Major’s 15-incher, and put it on his own organ so he could continue what Tucker had started. There was no way in hell he was going to stop now. Tucker was just too big, too muscular, too strong, too gorgeous. Besides, even if he failed this test, the Major had just invited him to his quarters this evening! Holy fucking fuck! The thought of that encounter spurred Kent on to a new level of self-pleasure.

The Major stepped back from Kent and said, “Go ahead, Matt. I know you can’t help it. Did you like it when my muscles were pressed against yours? Did you like feeling all of my bulging muscles? My cock? You just go ahead and keep on masturbating to me. There’s much more to come later tonight. I can’t wait to get you into my bed. God, you’re gorgeous. I can’t wait to fuck that tight ass of yours with my thick man-pole.”

Kent whimpered, while his hand flashed up and down his distended cock. He’d never been driven quite this insane in his life.

The Major turned to Willis, ready to give him the same kissing and muscle exposure he’d just given Willis’ boyfriend. But (not surprisingly) Willis had apparently been quite turned-on, just by watching Tucker and Kent go at it. Willis’ hand raced up and down his own penis; the man was already in the throes of a very intense masturbation session.

“Would you two be okay with watching me flex and pose some more now? Would you like to see how far you can go without coming? While I show you some more of my muscle body?”

Both men nodded with wincing faces, not interrupting their vigorous self-pleasuring.

Major Tucker chuckled. “I thought so. Something was telling me you two men would love to jack off while I pose and flex for you. I saw it in your eyes the minute I had you brought in here. You were both undressing me with your eyes. Raping me with your eyes, actually. And although we’re not going to allow any raping today, you two just go right on with masturbating to me, while I flex my muscles for you.” He seemed to get an idea. “We can even have a little contest,” he smiled. “How about you two take yourselves right to the brink of ejaculating on my body, then try to back down. How does that sound?” He chuckled and said, “And if you don’t want to play that game, we could just turn it around, and see which of you can cum on me first.” Fully embracing his roll as enemy captor, Tucker taunted, gave permission, and totally crossed the line in order to bring the two masturbating soldiers to climax.

He started with a side chest pose; his pectorals waved and rippled with insane amounts of striations and bulging muscle. His distended, wet cock waved at the men. “Go ahead, guys,” he said as he relaxed. “That’s good. Have at it. Go ahead and masturbate while I show you my fucking huge muscles some more.”

With crazed exuberance, each man fucked his own hand. Their fists flashed up and down their wet, hard shafts with blinding speed. Whether the Major was posing and flexing or not, his body was stimulating—beyond their ability to hold back. Both men moaned; Kent’s eyes rolled up into his sockets, but he quickly opened them again. The massive muscle body that tightened and undulated unimaginable amounts of glorious muscle in front of them was like nothing either man had ever seen or touched. Major Tucker was absolutely beautiful in his over-developed proportions. Stunning muscularity, gorgeous development, delicious leanness.

It was when Tucker lifted his hands behind his head and, with his giant cock so hard that it nearly pasted against his abs, and the mammoth muscle man went into a hard, insanely powerful abdominal pose—well, that’s when both men lost their loads. Their cannoned cocks launched dual fire hoses of cum at almost the same instant, splashing their hot cream across the expansive broadness of Tucker’s flexing physique. Willis’ first blast was accompanied with a deep, guttural, loud yell. Kent’s enormous volume of jizz flew at Tucker with a, “Fuck! Oh, fuuuuuuck!” Both men’s faces flinched with orgasmic bliss. In seconds, Tucker’s defined muscles were dripping with the two men’s semen. Rivers of shiny, white, wet cream dribbled down his rock-hard body. The sprays continued until broad streaks of cum flowed over the various carved contours of the major’s awesome muscles. The gigantic man’s trapezius, deltoids, pectorals, lats, obliques, and legs all received voluminous applications of the Privates’ cum.

Tucker smiled as he lowered his hands, still being showered with the adoring jizz that the muscular Privates were shooting at him. He chuckled, “Oh, that’s nice. Is all that cum for me? Very nice, gentlemen. I appreciate the compliment. But you know, you both have a long way to go in the manner of developing your self control. I’m so sorry; you’ve both failed the exercise.” He feigned disappointment. “Someday, hopefully, if you ever achieve my level of development and control, you’ll be able to master your orgasms. I know you’re probably disappointed, but there will be more opportunities to pass the test. Hell, someday you might even reach the level where you’ll be able to spontaneously come—without even touching yourself.”

The men panted while they sprayed the Major with uncontrollable ejaculations, apparently not paying much attention to the Major’s words.

“Watch,” Tucker smiled. He looked down at his enormous erection. The thing seemed to stare back up at him. With barely a flex of his cock, visible by the small jump it gave, the gigantic, steel-hard pole gurgled with the first signs of orgasmic bliss. The Major moaned, looked up at the ceiling, and tightened his whole body. His neck bulged with veins. His physique undulated with such potent and vigorous tightening that the two men could only respond with even more enthusiastic ejaculations onto it. Even with his hands at his sides, the Major was willing himself to come. His muscle body hardened into the most unimaginable vision of supreme masculine virility ever witnessed by man. Tucker’s monolith erupted; he growled. The untouched penis began to blast out shot after shot. The organ exploded like a dam—bursting with cum; its possessor now took it in his fingers and angled it away from himself just a bit, blasting its hot, thick liquid onto the two worshippers. He grinned and drenched the men with burst after violent burst of jizz. His orgasm only intensified as the two men finished theirs.

Within moments, each man was bathed in a white coat of semen; Tucker’s cock inundated the men, and when all was said and done, Willis and Kent, individually, had more cum on their body than Tucker had, even though Tucker had received the ejaculations of two men, and the Privates had each received only half of Tucker’s.

The Privates panted to recover from their most violent orgasms; their astounding muscular physiques glistened with sweat and cum. Yet Tucker looked as if he hadn’t exerted himself in the least. He removed his hand from his cock and smiled. “Ah… There we go. And both of you got quite a workout from all of this, didn’t you.” With a lone fingertip he lifted some of the men’s semen off his chest, and stuck it in his mouth. “Mmmm,” he smiled. He looked at Private. Kent, obviously appreciating Matthew’s glorious, still undulating physique, and said, “Private Kent, you’ll need to report directly to my quarters at 1900 hours.”

Kent panted. And as if to emphasize the point, he squirted one last shot of cum out of his slit as he said, “Yes… sir.”

Tucker looked at the wet torsos of the Privates, and then his own: “So, gentlemen, how do you think we should clean all of this semen up?”

 

[Oh, there's more coming fesher…]

 


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© 2018 Sean Reid Scott

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