TRIALS OF PERFECTION — CHAPTER ONE
NOTICE TO READERS: The characters in this story are played by professional, fictional actors and are not intended to represent, mirror, or allude to any real people. Any similarities with actual people are unintentional, inadvisable, inadmissable, and unbelievable. This story contains vivid descriptions of homosexual encounters. It encludes SEX ACTS BETWEEN MEN, and is thus intended for ADULTS ONLY. There's lurid, kinky sex here. HOMO SEX. It's prolly straight out of HELL, if you're inclined to hold the religious perspective. Really, this story is not for those who button the collar tightly. If you can't stomach this kind of smut, skedaddle. Likewise if you're under 18.
HEY HAD KIDNAPPED ME. Then, over the course of years, they held me in captivity, torturing me with horrific procedures. They’d injected me many times with unknown substances. They’d milked me dry, forcing me to come and come until I was virtually dehydrated—many, many times. Additionally, they’d edged me more times than I could count—binding me and bringing me to the very edge of orgasm, only to back their stimulation off just before, torturing me with endless “almosts”.
They forced their drugs on me—drugs that were obviously intended to make me stronger, more virile, and huge. Then they forced me to work out, pounding out hundreds—even thousands—of sets of mind-numbing exercises over the years they held me. They had obviously chosen me because I already possessed a genetically-gifted physique. But with their experiments and procedures, over the years I was in their possession, my physique arguably became the most well-developed, striking, perfect specimen of male physical development the world has ever seen. For all my mass—which is admittedly incomprehensible for most people—I have less than 3.5 % body fat.
The years of my captivity had been horrendous, but the end result was something quite spectacular.
Eventually, I became too much for them. At six and a half feet, and almost 370 pounds, I became much stronger than they’d bargained for. I’d turned into something of a monster—albeit a perfectly-proportioned and handsome one. After two years of that torture and growth, I became strong enough so that even their reinforced, tempered, fortified steel & titanium manacles, cables, leg irons, and restraints couldn’t hold me. Their hardened doors, no matter how thick and strong, weren’t enough either.
So, their torturous experiments and procedures had proved to be their undoing. I broke free from their secret, hidden laboratory, leaving a number of dead and seriously injured behind me. Oh, they tried to pursue me—some of the survivors did—but my speed proved just as amazing as my strength. I made my way through the jungle to what I soon realized was Rio de Janeiro. I begged, borrowed, and stole (mostly stole, since I was basically unstoppable) my way back home, to the United States.
That had been a over a year ago. I’d flown back to Colorado, and quickly built a small fortress out in the back country. I’d bought a remote parcel of land (cash) and constructed my lair, a partially-underground compound, where I would conduct my quest.
My new-and-improved physique came with a drive unlike anything I’d ever experienced. And most of that drive was sexual in nature. From my compound—I’d named it Physiqua Prime—I began my search for a companion. I’d place ads, and spread the word in bodybuilding & strength circles. My goal: to find the most well-build, sexy, strong, handsome man on the planet—save myself, of course—with whom I could build a Happily Ever After life.
But the man had to be superb in every way: physically, mentally, emotionally, and of course, sexually.
I knew my quest would be extensive. But I also knew it would be… entertaining, to say the least. In the past year, I had met many, many men—most of whom were well above average. Yet my perfect match remained elusive. My man had to prove himself to me. He had to be able to withstand my strength in bed, and elsewhere. He had to be perfectly gorgeous and huge—lean and masculine.
I’d employed one of the men who’d failed, to assist me in my endeavor. Max was my personal secretary; his duties included… whatever I told him to do, which included searching for and bringing to me the men whom I wanted. My standards were impossibly high, so Max’s job was not an easy one.
Actually, it was proving to be quite a frustrating task, even though the men I’d met had been quite stimulating. But to be honest, Physiqua Prime had become something of a death trap for this continuous stream of hyper-masculinity. Not too many men who came into my chamber left. (I’d constructed a huge room with high ceilings, equipped with every manner of gym equipment imaginable—and many pieces that were unimaginable.)
It wasn’t my fault they were too weak. Despite the amazing strength each man possessed—well above what most people thought was possible—inevitably when they came up to the final challenge—a test against my own strength—one of us in the challenge ended up dead.
Today, it had been one year to the day since I’d seen my first subject. For the anniversary, Max had found a man whom he described as “the best yet.” I was dubious.
TRIALS OF PERFECTION
By Sean Reid Scott
Inspired by (and somewhat stolen from) the author John’s series, “Trials”
Images by ManOfSteel
Me: 6 feet six inches (198.12 cm); 369 pounds (167.37 kg)
Him: 6 feet four inches (193.04 cm); 325 pounds (147.41 kg)
Both: Less than 3.5% body fat
THE MAN WHO STOOD AT THE FAR END of my chamber was by far the most handsome of the men who had come forward in response to Max’s search. And he was the biggest, most ripped of all of them too. In short, the huge man was astounding—clearly a man of power and strength beyond anything I’d yet seen. Max’s promise to provide me with a man who bested all the rest had been fulfilled.
The specimen was breathtaking; I was barely able to put down a gasp.
The massiveness of his extraordinary shoulders and traps filled the width of the oversized door. His breadth was amazing. Yet his leanness was obvious in the display of his very small waistline. His physique radiated its immeasurable strength under the crisp light. As soon as the chamber door slammed shut behind him, he stood there, his insanely-muscled body resplendent in uncanny beauty and lean mass; it was dizzying how enormous—and gorgeous—he was. As he stepped into the spreading beam of the muscle-cutting overhead spotlights, I had to blink my eyes. I was filled with anticipation. My heartbeat increased as my mind tried to remind me of his need to prove his worthiness.
He stood still, unable to see much, due to the blinding lights that shown on his over-muscled body. The lighting highlighted every ripple and bulge on the man’s nearly fat-free physique. I was in complete darkness, some 30 feet (9 m) away. His midnight-black hair was flat on top, short on the sides. His lips were full and rich; their almost maroon thickness was intoxicating. His sea-green eyes were clear and focused, with a constant smile in them that matched the one on his chiseled face. A look of quiet assuredness bespoke his determination and self-confidence.
And he held that confidence with good reason. No applicant—no man I had seen—possessed the muscle and physically perfect development that this man did.
Yet the astonishing thing was that even with all this amazing muscle, the man was so young. At 21 years of age, his youthful virility and his massive, rippling physique were incredible. I stared at him, trying to contemplate how a man as young as he was could be so staggeringly developed.
His superlative pecs were amazing. I had always had a weakness for big chests. His was barely smaller than mine, but they were the best mountains of chest development I had ever seen—besides my own. The shadows cast over his hard, mounded abs by the preposterous cantilever of solid meat, reached all the way down to the thin line of his obscenely tiny posing trunks. The fabric of his trunks barely contained—indeed, in truth, did not contain—the immense organ they had been tasked to hide.
The youngster’s muscle body was completely shaved, showing off every striation and bulge of his phenomenal physique. The only hair that was visible was on his head, a wonderful two-day beard, and the manicured patch of pubic hair that was clearly visible due to the smallness of his posing trunks. His generous—actually huge—genitals pushed his posers out, and down, so that his thick, veiny cock root was visible, surrounded by those midnight-black pubes. And all of this seductive maleness was packaged on a tiny, tiny waist that broadened out both upward and downward to compose a mind-boggling hourglass figure.
The tan coating of his flawless skin made his muscles show to their greatest advantage.
I could see that he was as enamored with his wonderful physical development as I was. His dossier told me of his passionate drive to build the biggest and most muscular body in the world. His stance and posturing to show his physique off to its greatest advantage merely reconfirmed that truth—although with me here, he would soon learn of the futility of his goal. Yet his admiration for his very large muscles, as demonstrated by their occasional flexing and waving, was well placed.
I lowered the stark spotlights a bit, and slightly raised the chamber’s house-lights, as well as a few well-placed spots that shown on me. As his eyes adjusted to the lighting, and his gaze landed on my nearly naked physique, his enormous pecs quivered their excitement at my muscularity. I understood that seeing my physique was mind-numbing. His eyes grew wide; he could not hide how stunned he was with the phenomenal form of my singular build and development. My cock began to jump, responding to the sight of him lusting for my muscles; his amazement and desire were obvious with each erotic twitch of his massive pec meat, and the thickening of his already enormous cock under his skimpy posing trunks. It was apparent that his mind was having a hard time comprehending my overly-muscled physique. Certainly, I was more muscle than he’d ever, ever seen.
He also seemed to be intrigued by the hair on my body. My chest, especially had a gorgeous carpet of hair; he seemed to have a special attraction to my chest. I fantasized briefly, about his hands on my pectorals moving over my thick, broad chest. My cock thickened at that prospect.
His square-jawed, gorgeous face was not unknown to me. His unique volume, and the invitation of his great pecs, shoulders, arms and legs, had caught the attention of several supplement manufacturers who were smart enough to know the value of appealing to an increasingly large male population interested in muscle development. Undoubtedly, these mega companies also knew the value of providing masturbation fodder to the many, many muscle-worshipping men who regularly jerked off to muscle. I silently wondered how many men the world over, had masturbated to images of this man. I had done so many times. Yet the images didn’t do him justice. My own cock thickened slightly as it reacted to his body. The astounding muscle being who stood before me was amazingly handsome; I had to remind myself to repeat the mantra: he’s just another face… he’s just another face. In truth, though, he was stunning. But although he was here to bring me pleasure, I knew that before he could do that, he needed to prove himself. Yet, as I took in the glory of his bountiful pecs, I found myself lusting for what would happen to those delicious man-tits in the next few hours.
With as much nonchalance as I could muster—a difficult task, given his size, definition, and beauty—I encouraged him to begin his warm-up. He walked, exuding confidence as he moved, to a well-lit area. I fought the thickening of my mutinous cock in my tiny posers. He lay down and pushed his mighty body through over 100 push-ups. From my position, I could see the growing pouch of his packaged cock being pushed with increasing thickness into the hardness of the floor as he reached the bottom of each and every seductive, powerful movement.
I watched with growing, fabric-stretching hardness in my own cock as his muscular body rippled, tightening and relaxing with each repetition. His back was simply stupendous. I became painfully aware of exactly how small my posing trunks were, as my enormous cock became harder and harder. I tightened my entire body, averting my gaze from his beautiful, writing physique, tamping down my desire.
When he was done, he stood; he pumped into a crab pose for all it was worth. Within a few delicious minutes of muscle-carving posing, he was primed and ready to be examined. The dossier Max had supplied told me his height was six feet four inches (1.95 m)—two inches shorter than my height—and his weight came in at 325 pounds (147.4 kg)—forty-four less than my own. He had won many, many competitions and was renown for keeping his body in peak condition all the time. At the moment, “peak condition” seemed to be an understatement. Having seen his pictures in so many bodybuilding magazines, on websites, and in videos still hadn't prepared me for the greatness of his body in the flesh. He was definitely the best so far—and that was saying a lot. He stood relaxed, and I enjoyed the beauty, symmetry and size of his relaxed body. He was a giant of muscle by any standard; his gorgeous face and immense, lean physique made my heart beat quickly. I walked toward him. I don't think he was fully prepared for the impact of seeing my body so close. I stopped and flexed my monstrous muscularity lightly—just to see his reaction to the offered spectacle of my muscle—muscle that was certainly beyond his wildest dreams. As the quality of my physique sharpened to fill every inch of my massive being, his face grew pale. His eyes widened, and evidently he had to remind himself to keep his mouth closed. The shadow of his prominently mounted nipples involuntarily danced along the lower swells of his lined pec meat, as his body reacted with visible desire. His packaged cock responded to his appreciation of my physical development with swelling want. His encased maleness pulled the band of his posers even farther out from his tightly muscled waist. Its veiny, meaty circumference was obscenely visible from above the thin white material sheathing. The nipples on the center of each of his chewy areola pointed their desire directly toward me. The brown plates of his excited pectoral continents danced over the quaking surface of his cabled lower pecs as they flexed their want—surrounding the half-spheres in ripples of striated wonder. I inwardly enjoyed his reaction to my muscles. I made a concerted effort to hide my reaction to his. He was here for my pleasure. I wondered exactly what thoughts were running through his mind. Did he want to touch me? To lick me? To kiss me? To fuck me? Or to be fucked? Likely all of those things filled his head while his lusting eyes gorged on my rippling, huge physique. As I studied his posture and body language, it became evident that he was acutely aware of the effect of his striking beauty on me—despite my obvious effect on him. His relaxed pose was well practiced. His eyes spent nearly as much time on the images of himself in the mirrors behind and to the side of me as they did trying to assimilate my overwhelming musculature.
As I sized him up, he continued to do the same with me. He was working overtime to not show his desire for my muscled body. Yet my engorged cock also continued to fight me. I contained my burgeoning erection, but it was a challenge. The man was painfully stimulating. My mind flashed with fantasy scenes of the two of us together: posing, touching, flexing, kissing, fondling… even more sexual scenarios. My body stiffened with sexual desires.
He shifted his weight slowly from side to side to show off his form. His waist was as narrow as his shoulders were wide, and the promise of his lat-spread drew me a step closer. Whether from my weeks-long self-imposed deprivation from masturbating, or my extended, unfulfilling search for muscle, or simply from his monstrous, ripped appearance, my want for his body—my need to taste him, to feel all of his astounding muscles, to entwine our limbs together—threatened to overcome the cautionary warnings of my mind. Indeed, he was more fully-developed than any man I’d ever seen—beside myself. And his definition was mind-numbing. And for all that definition, he was still enormous, but not grossly so. He was lean and wonderfully put together. His long, thick muscle bellies made him look proportionally perfect. Max knew exactly what I wanted. His want for me showed with every twisting twitch of his wonderful muscles being offered for my enjoyment.
I gave him a slight nod, causing him to—apparently involuntarily—force his muscles to an even harder pump. I knew that the vision of my nearly naked body was sheer torture to experience. A surprisingly large number of the men whom I had received in this chamber had involuntarily come, after their initial exposure to my physique. I enjoyed that: seeing other muscle men react to my brutal display of perfect muscle development. And knowing that my presence was causing this astounding man to get hard… it was stimulating. I could see the desire and awe in his eyes. It was evident that he wanted to feel, touch and experience my over-developed muscles. I stood still, a long time, watching him while he grew harder and harder at my muscles.
I made sure not to show that the feeling between us was mutual.
Normally, with the men who entered this chamber, I kept quiet. It was required that my suitors remain absolutely silent. But seeing him literally twitch with desire while he drank in my muscles, I decided to speak: “You are hard, because of my muscles.” He nodded slowly, licking his lips.
I nodded back, expressing my appreciation.
His thick, long neck lead down to a pair of severely broad, rounded shoulders. His shoulders were nearly as wide and developed as my own. I would be hard-pressed to dispute the idea that many might not see any difference between his and mine. The amazing mass of his traps bulged into the spherical swell of his globed deltoids. The overall width of his shoulders was astounding. And even as he faced me, it was evident that his wide back forced his marvelously sculpted arms far out to each side revealing the signature muscles of his lats and serratus—their definition also rivaled my own. And those sculpted arms were phenomenal—huge and rippling, perfectly defined and bulging with obvious strength.
It was difficult to keep my eyes still. They wanted to examine… all of him. He was mind-blowing in his development—so amazingly muscular and proportioned. I wanted him. Badly.
His hips were provocatively thin and trim, permitting every finger of his obliques muscles to show with clear focus. Centered on his amazing torso, just below the continental slabs of his pecs, the man’s twin columns of abdominal muscle bulged with insane definition. The man was indeed ripped. I contemplated his body fat content, and had to conclude that the percentage had to be mind-numbingly low.
The deep shadow of his Adonis Belt pointed the way from his chiseled sides directly to his partially shaven groin.
And again his cock, barely contained by those posers, pushed so hard at the fabric that the waistband was forced out and forward a few inches, creating a delicious space where much of his trimmed pubes were visible, along with the root of his obviously thick and veiny cock meat. One thick vein, along with other smaller—yet no less prominent—veins wrapped downward to hidden areas. Obviously his sex organ required much feeding.
Again, he shifted his weight slowly from side to side to show off his exquisite form. I shifted my weight as well—hitting a seductive asymmetric pose that blasted a wave at muscle at him. His eyes grew wide. He stood there, assessing my defined massiveness and his hand found his pouch. He started to touch himself while he watched my muscles bunch and ripple just for his excitement. It had to be a feast for his eyes., After one reassuring overview of himself in the mirrors, he looked back toward me. I lightly flexed again, so that he might understand that it was I who should be the center of attention here. After all, my own superior musculature was more cut and ripped than it had ever been before—and certainly more amazing than anything he’d ever seen. Over the past few months, I had been throwing myself unflinchingly into my workouts. Not even I could have expected just how much the splendor of my overwhelming body could be improved, but it had.
I smiled within as the truth of my sharpened and enriched development became written on his face. I flexed my body, allowing a seductive wave of muscle to ripple across it… up, down, back and forth. He was trying desperately to understand how the amount of muscle I carried, could indeed exist on one single human being. He was successful at tamping down a gasp, but his lust for me was not otherwise hidden. The realization that a man built as magnificently as himself could be overcome with lust for someone even bigger, aroused me even more. I was going to enjoy fucking this muscle god and showing him what a man bigger and harder than himself was like. He’d certainly never come across anyone bigger and better-built than himself, and I was enjoying the shock and awe he was exhibiting over seeing me. I did not need to flex again; his focus locked in on me. The scale and density of every muscle on my body was, I knew, overwhelming—too much for him. His cock thickened harder in his posers while his eyes tried to swallow the vision of my unmatched body. I smirked internally knowing the effect I was having on him. It was just the sort of reaction that I loved to see and sense—and coming from this man, someone who had undoubtedly never seen a man more fully developed than himself, gave me added pleasure. I let him gaze at me for a few moments so that he could dream of the prospect of possessing me. I gracefully shifted, making him totally forget that he was in fact here to impress me. I let him take in my muscular perfection, showing off more muscle than I’m sure he’d thought possible. I flexed quite hard, letting my definition pop into his psyche—pulling more color from his face. I told him to take his hand off his crotch. He obeyed reluctantly; apparently my body made other men want to touch themselves. In a few minutes, we would be engaged in an exercise to test his ability to control his reactions to my physique. I didn’t want him enjoying himself just yet.
Then, to stress who was actually in charge here, I began to fondle my own cock, through my skimpy posers, right in front of him. He winced with desire as my hand enjoyed the hugeness of my organ. My cock thickened under my touch. He seemed to be jealous of my fingers, so I asked softly, “Do you want to touch me?” Having been strictly told to never speak in my chamber, he could only nod. And nod he did.
I stepped forward, and stood directly in front of the muscle giant. He was truly astounding. Yet as the true scale of my muscles became increasingly apparent with my closeness to him, his cock responded even more, quickly by stiffening itself to even bigger, fabric-straining hardness. I was pleased to see both the effect I had on him and the size of his hard cock. His posing strap seemed to be losing the battle to contain it. My eyes searched for, but found not a single flaw in his silky-tan skin and face. He smelled of tanning oil, baby oil, and spice. His lips were full and soft to look at. They begged to be kissed, but I knew better. Physical contact between us would come only after I determined he could handle it. I could find nothing other than perfection on his physical being. It soon became apparent to me why he could have become self-absorbed. Yet again, he had never seen the likes of someone so physically developed as me before.
With slow and steady purpose, I lifted my enormous arms out to my sides, then bent them, presenting him with a pair of biceps guaranteed to humble any arrogance he might still harbor. I could see the awe in his face at the sight of my flexed, undulating, vein-wrapped, enormous upper arms. Glancing briefly at a nearby mirror I, too caught a glimpse at the wonder of my own flexed muscle size, and I made myself even harder.
I permitted him to experience the display of the steel columns that comprised my arms. In the initial flex, I’d controlled my immense biceps, but now I allowed them to grow higher while they insanely split into two distinct, mind-numbing peaks. His jaw dropped. And his posing trunks visibly moved. Partially in response to his reaction at my muscles, and partially just to drive him more crazy, I tightened my entire body into an anatomically perfect overall flex that embedded the vision of my entire physique, to be brilliantly and permanently etched onto his mind. My constrained cock moved, at the mirror’s display of my body tightening right in front of his amazing development. And his wanting reaction was transparent; he swallowed hard.
I eventually relaxed out of my pose, and I encouraged him to show me his own enormous arms. He did so, gracefully bringing his magnificent guns outward, and into a flexed position.
I stifled my reaction. Never before had I seen such development on anyone else—such untapped promise in a set of biceps as there was in his. His size and vascularity rivaled my own. He moved into other poses. As he twisted and spun from graceful pose to graceful pose, I was increasingly drawn to his enormous, rippling development. With every moment I spent with him, my cock thickened and lengthened. The mass of his lats was mind-boggling—simply beyond comprehension. The definition of his clutching serratus muscles and obliques were numbing. And his Adonis belt—the diagonal muscles that pointed to his nether regions… it was as astounding as my own seductive waistline. When he slowly turned away from me, and raised his arms, the wealth of outer back meat on each side opened like two winged fans. Their volume almost seemed capable of holding him aloft in flight should he so desire. The undulating mass of his back muscles rippled in front of my eyes. The man had an amazing typography of raised, undulating mounds of back muscles. The triangles of his trapezius bulged with amazing size. The entire presentation was immensely erotic. His strength looked to be incalculable.
The great muscle sculpture posing for me moved with the grace of a well trained dancer. He rotated again and faced me, moving into a most-muscular crab pose. The shoulders and traps became nothing short of monumental muscle formations in the process. The previously delicate waistline turned stone hard, with abdominal definition disappearing into the shadows cast by the mounded muscle of his rippling, gigantic pecs. The bulge of his promising cock sack emerged from the shadows beneath his quivering fists. My own organ continued to tighten and strain from the stimulation of looking at all of the insanely defined muscle in front of me. As he straightened slightly and dug his clenched fists against each side, I swallowed discreetly. He unfurled the spectacle of his fabulous torso taper. His shoulders grew even broader with etched cables of sculpted meat as they grew into vast spheres of muscle, capping the upper expanse of his flexing body. He shifted the great domes of deltoid muscle forward, forcing the rise of his immense trapezius meat up to fill the space between his mountainous shoulders and the vertical column of his striking neck. When he exhaled, shrink-wrapping his entire body in a fat-free flex, he bared his gorgeous, bright teeth, weakening my resolve to hide my lust.
I sensed my cock jump once again at the sight, practically begging me to let it loose on the man. My penis desperately wanted to drag itself over his muscular frame, dribbling every one of his protruding, flexing muscles with generous amounts of pre-cum, before finding a glorious target between his ass cheeks.
I imagined that scene: My dripping cock drooling line upon line of clear sex fluid over his shoulders, pecs, arms, abdominals, his mighty legs, and even his own, burgeoning cock. I decided to remember that scenario for future use.
At my urging, he pushed one flexed leg forward and pressed his foot into the floor, pushing the meat within his mind-blowing, gigantic upper legs into chiseled view. Bending onto one knee, I forced his legs apart so that I could examine his enormous, deeply-creased, dancing thigh. He spread his gargantuan, ripped legs apart so I could push my hands between the meaty solidity of his inner thighs just below the drooping sac covering his balls. The deliciously scaled outline of his cock head pressed against the thin fabric. It was obvious that his generous balls were probably close in size to my own. I slipped my fingers and palms around the widest part of his leg, taking particular pleasure in the brief contact between the back of my reaching hand and the bulge of his clothed ball-sac. Not wanting him to be aware of my growing desire, I re-focused on his gargantuan leg girth. My appreciative hands moved around and behind the inhuman mass of his upper leg. His flexed thigh was harder than even I could have predicted. I moved lower, and his 23 inch (58.42 cm) calves were next to surrender their columned magnificence to my assessing hands.
Moving up, I reveled in the sensations of my fingers circumnavigating his waist and stroking the mounds of his muscle-plated abs. I forced my gasp to remain silent as I enjoyed his 30 inch (76.2 cm) waistline; it was one inch smaller than my own chiseled midsection. I had memorized his mind-numbing measurements, as recorded in his dossier, but the experience of tactilely enjoying those measurements only heightened the wonderful dimensions of his physique.
Then he put his great lat spread back on display. I rounded the great flexing muscle of his upper torso. As he flexed into a wonderful double biceps pose, I concentrated my next examination on the steely flesh of his 17 inch (43.16 cm) forearms—forearms that were encased in insane, pulsing vascularity. To say they were thick and powerful would be a travesty of language. And then his upper arms: the sharp splits in the meat of his phenomenal biceps and the spring-coiled meat of his heavy triceps were the last exposed body part to surrender their 25 inches (63.5 cm) of meaty sharpness to my appreciative hands. For my admiring enjoyment, I dragged my palms across the endless expanse of his shoulders, noting the unbelievable spread of solid muscle. While my hands and fingers enjoyed his enormous, hard muscles, my shaft became even more painfully erect. The string of fabric that served as the band of his white posing trunks was virtually glued to his waistline, except at the front, where his prodigious cock forced the opening forward and low. The pouch containing his cock and balls had obviously been specially sized and constructed for them. Even so, they were easily on the verge of splitting open; his cock was simply getting too hard from this continued, up-close exposure to my muscles.
I pulled my hands around his waist, letting the power of my reaching biceps be known to his side muscles in the process. He gasped at the contact with my immense, hard arms.
I paused, enjoying a close-up examination of his muscled, undulating body. His chest expanded and fell with his tentative breaths.
I stood up tall. Our faces were inches apart, and much of our body parts touched.
I patted and traced his abs. They felt like bands of plated steel, dressed in silk.
Then, in a blatant violation of the rules, he lifted a powerful hand, and ran the back of it over the swelled offering of my heaving left pec. It quivered its excited response under his warm, rough touch. His knuckles tripped down over my pouting nipple, sending a second wave of intense reaction slicing through both of my huge pectoral globes. He turned his hand and his palm drifted up over the continental plating of my now-striated chest meat. The pressure of his exploration was surprisingly strong, yet carried an air of tenderness and obvious appreciation. He examined my enormous chest development with burning, lusting eyes, letting out a soft, obviously involuntary groan as he felt me out. A look of pleased determination covered his handsome face as he tried to force his hand into the head-thick depth of my central pec meat. In response, I waved my pectorals with powerful undulation, slowly and seductively demonstrating the wonder of my physical power. Then I tightened my chest into solid rock under his hand. His fruitless efforts to invade the wealth of my flexed pec muscle forced his own pecs to turn into images of similarly carved and fissured stone visions. I almost gasped at their size hardness; I couldn’t resist touching them. The solidity of his flexed muscles matched their appearance. He rolled the lined pectorals to show off their scale and power to me. While mine were a bit bigger than his, the definition of his man-tits was no less stunning than that of my own. I let my fingers of one hand dive into the deep canyon of his hairless, stone-lined cleavage, until my fingers disappeared into the warm, moist depths of his huge chest. I left my hand there, enjoying the hardness and warmth, and my penis tightened.
I couldn’t believe it. I actually felt myself become so excited that I had to pull back. Fortunately, I was able to quickly regroup. Rising above his marvelous pectoral muscle was the capping glory of his monstrous shoulders and chiseled traps. My hands explored their diamond-hard surfaces. His shoulders were like nothing I’d ever seen. So hard, so wide, so warm, so immense. Once again I found myself fighting to maintain my composure. I think I began to appreciate what men felt like when they stood in front of my bare body. I began feeling sorry for all the others; touching the man’s superb shoulders gave me empathy for the smaller wannabes, although I knew my own development was still unchallenged. He flexed his traps and delts for me once more, causing each individual bundle of muscle composing the great shoulder giants to lock into a series of curving ridges and valleys of stunning meat. Then he took the opportunity to enjoy my development some more, even while I enjoyed his.
For many long minutes, we felt each other out, it was a wonderful, sensual, appreciative, muscle feeling session. The man made my body react with desire the more time I spent in his presence.
I would come back to these human wonders of shoulder development shortly but, for now, I needed to complete my evaluation of his body. It was time to move on. My hand slipped down his mounded, wonderfully-defined abdominals until my fingertips found the thick, black, pubes that were visible above his posing strap. I slipped my fingers inside his posers and turned my hand so my fingertips could enjoy the root of his thickness. My palm rested against his warm lower belly. I slipped my fingers lower, slinking them down onto the root of his large cock. He jerked as his body experienced my touch in this most sensitive area.
I glued my eyes to his, to watch him react to my finger’s tender, soft touch. I left my fingertips in his trunks, giving him minuscule amounts of stimulation as I moved my digits over his veiny, thickening penis at the root. “I make you hard,” I said softly, giving him a knowing smile.
He nodded silently.
My hand gripped his cock lightly for a moment, then I pulled out. I stepped back. Studying his face for his reaction, I launched into a set of poses designed to exhibit my ultimate development to its fullest. Bulging myself into pose after incredible pose, I inundated his senses with my burgeoning, ripped, oscillating physique. Although the reaction on his face was rewarding—I enjoyed his eyes growing, and his mouth opening—it was the reaction on his expanding cock that told the real story.
I watched his entire body ripple with desire while I moved from pose to mind-numbing pose, flexing my body to its biggest, most defined dimensions.
And the swelling in his trunks grew and grew. I stopped posing and stepped very close to him. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he tried to resist the inevitable. I watched with pleasure as his face squinted in an effort to tamp down his uncontrollable reaction to my undulating body. It quickly became apparent that those efforts were going to be in vain.
His face became serious; a look of resignation took over his countenance just as the sound of separating fabric echoed through the otherwise silent chamber. As the strap that led from beneath his pouch to the waist band at his back ripped apart, I felt his cock fall forward, thickening right against my own covered balls. I looked down to examine the damage my flexing physique had done to his posers. They hung at his waist, ripped and useless while his big cock grew and grew. The only thing still intact was the waistband. I made quick work of it, easily tearing it apart.
I stepped back to appreciate his now naked body.
The ring of fabric slid down his giant legs and fell to the floor; his now free balls waved their joy at me. They were, indeed, as full and ripe as my apple-sized testicles. His veiny, lengthening cock continued its upward course, pulsing with spurts of grown that apparently coordinated with his pulse. The weight of the thickening shaft pulled its promising length completely over the swell of his balls. It hung well below their dangling length. As if flexing it from within, and without self stimulation, his cock continued to harden. His body moved through a series of involuntary dance-like flexes in response to my engorged, pumped body. It was more erotic than anything I had ever witnessed. His dick was at rigid attention. It looked as if it had been carved from the finest brown jade, eventually standing completely vertical against his torso. He was indeed aroused by my physique. A corner of my mouth lifted at his uncontrollable response to me.
First test complete: The man had failed to control his response to my body. This in itself was not disqualifying. Indeed, I appreciated it. His tremendous cock stood ready and waiting, fully plastered against his abdominal mounds, nearly reaching all the way up to the base of his cantilevered pectoral plates. It dripped with more pre-cum than I’d ever seen a man produce. Indeed, his entire cock shimmered with his liquid desire for me. I laid my fingertips on the hot organ, surprising myself with its solidity. Slipping my fingers between his monolith and his abs, I pulled it away from his torso and lightly wrapped my hand around the wet surface of his rigid, veiny cock. My hand met considerable resistance as he flexed back against my pull. The glistening corona was hard to my feel. His body convulsed the sensitivity of his handsome cock head as my fingers teased its surface. Yet he also beamed confidently while I fondled his 12 inch trophy.
I hoped he had not noticed the short, unbelieving pause that had captured my body at the sight of his bare manhood. I didn't need the tape, nor my hands, to know that it was at least a foot (30.48 cm) of solid cock that I was holding. It was nearly as thick as my own singular monster. Nor was it as long as my 14 inches (35.56 cm) of still-contained raging hard-on, but it certainly appeared as rigidly reinforced as my own colossal member. I pulled on his penis, harder, until I saw him wince. Then I let go, allowing it to launch back against his abs. Its wet mass slapped onto his torso with a thwack. The man was as hard as any man I’d ever seen. His erection was as large as any I’d ever seen, save my own.
I stepped back to focus on the overall balance of his development. His legs were as fully muscled as the rest of his body, and just as beautifully defined. He was breathtaking. I watched with renewed want as his huge balls and sacs dangled forward under his fully-erect, dripping penis. He was producing so much pre-cum at enjoying my body that it actually flowed down, over his big testicles and dripped onto the floor.
Once the great muscle of his torso was totally exposed, he turned each foot slightly outward to push the swells of his quads into stunning bows of oversized meat. I fought to hide my lust. The combination of upper and lower body spread into an amazing hourglass formation made the minuscule scale of his waist even more impressive.
From the hard sweep of his upper legs into the trimness of his hips and the peaking swell of his upper glutes, I felt an internal shudder while I contemplated his incomparable ass. He seemed to read my thoughts; he twisted slightly to one side at the waist. As the nearer gluteal muscle curved into view, it became a carved vision of striated, meaty perfection. The upper portion of the great gluteus mass rose as the huge lower volume formed into a vast dimpled mound of striated meat. The thinness of his waist made the image of his flexed ass cheek all the more desirable. I shuddered with lust. As he continued to twist his foot against the floor to show off the accomplishment of his ass muscles and legs, I realized that, in spite of his youth—or more likely, because of it—I wanted his body almost as much as I knew he wanted mine. Yet as we both knew, there was so much that needed to happen before either of us could move forward on our mutual lusts.
Lifting his hands directly above his head, he interlocked his fingers together and began to pull his extended arms from side to side. As he did so, his lats flared wide and his trim waist shifted to the opposing side. Then he locked his interconnected hands straight over his head and pushed them up as high as he could, while rising up onto his toes. His stretched torso billowed wide and thick; his distended back muscles pulled out to their maximum expanse and his waist shrunk—reduced to its smallest scale.
Slowly, he rotated his entire body; he was now facing away from me.
He forced his arms into a stunning double biceps pose as he brought them out toward each side. Years of arm work had obviously given him a great pair of biceps that were full and rich with joyously peaked muscle and bulbously muscled triceps with matching volume and power. His back muscles were just astounding: Ripples of mounding muscle undulated with his every move. His arms unfolded and continued down past each chiseled side. As his hands settled atop the great swell of his tight meat, he began to lean forward, letting his lucky fingers slide over the deeply defined meat of his upper legs and then over the balled splendor of his columned calf muscles.
As his hands continued down the length of his legs, bending forward his hamstrings began to flex and ripple. He kept his legs completely straight. His waist was so tight that I could feel my cock jump in lust. The groping hands moved over the silky skin of his lower legs and wrapped themselves tightly behind his ankles. His body folded in half as he pulled his torso solidly up against his locked quadriceps until the bulk of his pecs and thighs hugged their voluminous splendor together and his glutes were fully stretched into great lines of bundled muscle.
The promise of his warm ass hole lay literally within my reach; it taunted me, tempting me from inside the dark shadow line of his split ass cheeks. He waved his sphincter at me, flexing and relaxing his delicious cherry for my wanting eyes. I breathed heavily, and my immense cock tightened to nearly fabric-ripping hardness—and I wanted to move in and consume him. For a moment, all my mind could think about was running my cock over that hole, teasing his ass with my size—and then pushing that red hole apart with my cock, entering him and pushing my pubes against his glutes. He flexed and relaxed his ass at me, and my constrained cock screamed to be released from the tight fabric it fought against. I knew that my posers were on the verge of separating; my penis pushed against the fabric, and I realized it was only a matter of time before the material surrendered to the pressure of my burning cock.
The man’s butt was the most erotic ass I’d ever seen. I wanted that ass.
There was no doubt in my mind that he was fully aware of his actions and their intended affect on me. I fought to control my desires as he shifted into his next stunning position.
Slowly releasing hold of his ankles. He raised his upper body until its mass was parallel to the floor below. Once positioned, his feet began to move apart on the shiny, waxed floor—with his legs still locked stiffly straight. As the space between his legs widened, his inner thighs separated—permitting me an enhanced view of his inviting ass hole and cream-filled testicles. His feet remained flat on the floor as they slowly slid miraculously farther and farther apart to each side. His torso descended toward the floor as he worked his body into an amazing split. His arms and pointed hands were extended to each side as widely as his unbelievably extended legs. The distance between his feet continued to widen until his balls kissed the floor.
At the sight of his extraordinarily extended musculature splayed out before me, it took all my considerable willpower not to rip my posers off, step in, and mount his offered body onto the ramrod of my cock. He pushed his torso closer to the ground until the tips of his pecs were also in contact with the floor before slowly lifting his gorgeous ass toward me, pouting the hard globes of erotic ass muscle up at my nearly-drooling face. He rotated his butt a few times, flexing it, taunting me with his deliciousness. Then, he slowly raised himself up to a standing position. He turned toward me and stood, confident in the back-side display he’d just given me. He stood there, naked, gazing at me. I shook myself back to the reality that the gorgeous ass show he had just put on was out of his desire to possess my body and me. It had indeed been mind-numbing. I was going to burst my posing strap. It was starting. My trunks could take no more; the seam of them began to split. With an audible rrrrrip, they pushed apart, and my enormous, growing erection spilled forward. I pulled the tattered material from my waist and let it drop to the floor.
His wonderful confidence melted into astonishment as he watched my naked erection grow. It thickened and lengthened before his wide eyes.
I wasn’t disappointed that he could now see what he was doing to me. Actually, I enjoyed that he was able to understand how much I appreciated his development. My cock dripped with desire for him, and that idea actually made me even harder. I enjoyed displaying myself for him and letting him know how much he turned me on. Within seconds, my fourteen-inch (35.56 cm), can-thick pole was pointing up to my pectorals, just as vertical as his was. He leaned his head forward and his shoulders bulged as he attempted to assess and appreciate my size and my steel-hardness. He gulped visibly.
I could see that his body glowed with readiness, as did his hot cock. His eyes tried to swallow the scale and grandeur of my massively muscled form even as I moved back to him. He winced noticeably when I got closer, gaping at the sight of my now-close fully enraged cock. His body shook with tiny, reactive convulsions as he no doubt thought of my enormous, hard shaft invading his body. Apparently, he seemed to be reconsidering the generous offer he’d just extended—when his ass had so seductively pointed up to me, inviting me to fuck it. He shuddered slightly, as the enormity of my erection stood at the ready, right in front of him.
I had seen that reaction too many times in the past not to recognize it for what it was. I took a turn now, taunting him with my cock, lightly stroking my wet pole to show him what he’d awoken. I took my balls in my hand and fondled them right in front of him. More drops of pre-cum dribbled down my erection. I moved toward his crotch. His huge rod was so richly wrapped with reinforcing veining that I could actually see the beating blood pulsing through the sexually hungry member. I lingered on its top surface, fascinated by the power of his aroused cock. Wiping a glob of clear precum from the mushroomed crown, I licked its syrupy sweetness from my finger.
Pushing one hand to the warm underside of his groin, I lifted his balls in my palm. They were as heavy and full of creamy promise as they had appeared from behind. I smiled my accolade toward his dreamy eyes. His cock bore the immensely hard power consistent with his young age. The kid was as hard as my forearm. Slight pain showed in his face as I pulled his sac forward and squeezed, hard. Then I pushed down on the frozen projection that comprised his enormous cock. Then my hand traveled its slippery, twelve inch fullness as I eyed the veined strength beating within its thick solidity.
Despite the momentary wince, he showed no signs of resistance as I brought his gorgeous, thick rod to even harder arousal—if that were possible—with my tickling hands. I ran my fingertips teasingly along the richly veined protrusion of his excited cock. I also wrapped my thumb and forefinger around the circumference at the anchored base; I could not close my fingers all the way around it.
I could hold back no longer. I had to taste that cock. I bent my knees and crouched at his front side. His enormous, gorgeous cock bobbed in my face and I brought one hand to hold its root, with a few of my fingers enfolding part of one of his balls as well.
I had to have that cock.
This was, after all, my party. If I wanted, I could violate any rules I had previously enacted. With unbridled lust, I stuck out my tongue and ran it up his excited shaft. He moaned and let his head fall back. I lathered his erection with my saliva, wetting it completely. Then I kissed his dribbling cock head a few times before opening my mouth and pulling it in.
He steadied himself by putting his hands on my strong shoulders while I sucked him off.
Surprisingly, it took less than a minute before his muscles tightened and his first jerk of orgasm overtook his amazing body. He yipped and jerked with a series of orgasms, filling my throat and mouth with his jizz.
I had hoped he would have had more discipline. He knew he was supposed to resist coming at all costs. But then, I knew he could hardly be expected to stave off my advances. Nothing could have prepared him for… me.
When I stood and leaned in to his face, our lips met. I opened my mouth, and forced his open with my tongue before pushing a large helping of his own cum into his mouth.
He swallowed it with a satisfied, restful smile.
THEN I INSTRUCTED HIM TO RESUME showing off for me. He flexed each of his wonderful body parts as I continued to assess his physique. My hands moved slowly over all of his presented muscles. I lingered on his big pecs, his broad, full shoulders… his enormous arms… his full, gargantuan legs, and his narrow waist. I watched with growing excitement as each individual muscle quaked while I touched, fondled and caressed the endless dimensions of his gorgeous physique. Apparently lost in pleasure—the pleasure of my tender groping, he absently—or likely not—took hold of my enormous erection. His gaze turned to shock as he sensed the power, the sheer hardness, and size of my own gigantic organ. He tripped his open hand up and down it a few times, while his face turned white with astonishment. As gently as I could, I moved his hand away. He smiled apologetically as he remembered the incorrectness of that contact. There were definite, well-delineated rules, after all. We both understood the need for him to complete his tasks so that he could understand the true greatness of my cock and my body.
I placed my hand on one of his gorgeous pecs. He immediately constricted his it so that every fibrous cord of steely muscle erupted under my palms as he crunched down on the fullness of his chest. My other hand joined the first. Showing extraordinary control, he manipulated his man-tits through a series of tantalizing undulations with both my hands and eyes absorbing every subtle and erotic movement.
I squeezed the outer pores of his deep brown areola, forcing his excited nipple to rise up hard between my tweaking fingers. Placing the tip of my tongue on the stiffened end of his trapped nipple, I slipped it into my mouth, slowly. His whole pec froze solid as I worked his nipple with my lips and tongue. I massaged and twisted the sensitive brown tissue in my controlling mouth. Surely, he’d never experienced anything even remotely like my powerful mouth on his tits. I could feel the instant resistance to the manipulation as he crunched down on the underlying pec muscle. I continued to slide my tongue around it until I was satisfied that it had indeed gotten to know the voluminous pectoral meat. I wondered how close I was to bringing him to orgasm again. The thought was stimulating. And although I would be marginally disappointed if he couldn’t control himself, I secretly relished the idea of doing it. Next to the fabulous beauty of his pecs, his arms were a close second. Their size was astounding. Even when he brought one arm up into a rock-like biceps pose, his triceps hung full-bodied and steely-hard. Heat poured from his flexing arm as I slid my appreciative fingers and palm over their sweaty form. His biceps were sharply lined and heavily split. The veining feeding their vibrant muscularity was as wonderfully proportioned as the biceps and triceps meat. I languished over their 25 inch, split circumference as long as I dared before moving my hands down to the unbelievable smallness of his waist. When he expressed his lungs out, his already flat stomach tightened with paper-thin skin, barely able to contain the awe inspiring mounds of abdominal muscles. His waist was significantly less than half the size of his massive chest. The scale of his tiny waist made his pecs and cock look all the more overwhelming. He obviously knew the strengths of his body well, and wanted me to be aware of them. But to have me, he had to earn me. His trial, like those who had tried before him, would be as demanding and unforgiving—if not more so—than the others had been.
IT WAS TIME TO SEE HIS ASTOUNDING muscle body at work. At my instruction, he launched into a mind-boggling onslaught of exercises.
He had a reputation for interesting training techniques. Now he continued his lower body workout with my help. At his request, I stood straddled on two parallel flat benches. For a moment he stood just in front and beneath me just staring. My raised position, straddling the benches, put my cock at just below his eye-level.
I understood that seeing my singularly muscular body pedestaled before him, was an overwhelming spectacle. The density of the staggering amount of muscle comprising my six-foot-six-inch tall, 365 pound body was admittedly shocking. I didn't even need to flex to bring it into sharpened focus. The power of my 43 inch (109.22 cm) thighs and 28 inch (71.12 cm) calf muscles columned in his face with the fully aroused power of my 14 inch (35.56 cm) erection vertically poised against my abs was enough to strike fear into the heart of any viewer. The man stood motionless, his mouth partially open, engrossed in his examination of my physique. I let him look, obviously sidelined by his scrutiny of my muscles. Then, in spite of my previous admonition to keep his hands off my cock, he timidly reached out to stroke the brilliant stiffness of my steel-hard cock and ripened fruit-sized balls. His eyes widened with expected shock once again when his fingers encountered a cock as hard as a hot steel I-beam. This time I let him toy with it briefly; he was obviously enjoying it immensely. He tried to move it from its mounted anchorage to my brutally muscled shaved groin. His fingertips traipsed over the veiny bulges in my horse-sized shaft. I could feel his trembling touch on my over-sensitive penis, and I allowed him to touch it at length. He was enthralled with it. His fixation on it—and all of me—was stimulating. He stared at it while his hand moved up and down it, but his eyes couldn’t stay in one place for long. While he continued to measure the gorgeousness of my immense cock, his eyes moved all over the expanse of my muscle body.
As I had done with him, he slipped his fingers behind my ab-plastered shaft and pulled on it. He was able to pull it out a few inches before I flexed it, forcing the back of his fingers against my lower belly once again. As I pulled it back like that, his eyes went big. Then they moved down onto my balls which had, with the flex, pulled up into their sacs.
When I relaxed my cock-flex, my balls sank down again, dangling low against my beefy quads.
He moved his fingertips back on to the exposed length of my penis and resumed his assessment of its grossly-veiny topography. He was entranced by it. He sloshed the wetness all over it. Then he moved his hand down and cupped one of my balls in his palm and long, sexy fingers. He squeezed. When I didn’t react, he squeezed harder. Then even more. My lack of response to his intended invasion prompted him to relax his grip. He resumed fondling my shaft. Then he wrapped his hand around it again, this time with the intension of moving it up and down my length.
I let him.
He gave me one long, slow stroke; his eyes were in lust with it. With me. More pre-cum gurgled from my slit, and when he began a slow, steady rhythm, he seemed to be surprised that I was allowing this.
Indeed, I was also a bit surprised. But them man was hard to resist. If he wanted to touch my cock, then I was going to let him feel my cock.
He began masturbating me, gently at first, slowly slicking his hand up and down my insurmountable organ. He looked up into my eyes; was he asking for permission to continue?
I didn’t react.
He kept stroking me.
I tightened my body into muscle-defining, mind-defying hardness—my cock too.
He shuddered, groaning softly, licking his lips.
More pre-sex liquid gurgled out my slit and dribbled down onto his grip. He stared at my engorged cock. It was then that I realized that I was moving closer and closer to orgasm. I’d edged myself, for countless hours. And men had edged me many, many times for countless hours. But my self control and strength had never been bested. No one had been able to make me come against my will. Yet, while this man slowly masturbated my penis, I became aware that I was moving dangerously close. To losing control. He lifted one of his magnificent arms and flexed it into a hard ball of dizzying, rippling muscle… and he kept stroking me. A corner of his mouth turned up.
He kept on, trying to get me to come. This went on and on… for many, many minutes. We locked eyes many times, but I also scanned his muscles over and over.
He looked down at his hand on my cock, admiring it. He moved his face closer to it, but I shook my head in warning when his tongue moved toward the slitted opening at the sensitive end of my reddened corona. Reluctantly, he complied and let go of my hard organ.
I silently sighed at the absence of his hand on it, but I was also secretly glad the teasing session had ended when it did. I was excited nearly to the limits of my ability to hold on.
CHAPTER TWO COMING SOON!
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