NEW, January 16:  TRIALS OF PERFECTION, Chapter 4





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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.





By Sean Reid Scott
Inspired by (and somewhat stolen from) the author John’s series, “Trials”
Images by the late, great ManOfSteel; enhanced




Me: 6 feet six inches (198.12 cm); 369 pounds (167.37 kg)
The Man: 6 feet four inches (193.04 cm); 325 pounds (147.41 kg)
Both: Less than 3.5% body fat



THE MUSCLE GIANT ONCE AGAIN turned his attention toward his own exercising needs. I inwardly chuckled at his evident disappointment at having to stop the hand job he had been giving me. He was hopelessly in lust with my muscle body, and he was powerless to keep a rein on his desires to touch me. 

Yet I worried that his lack of control might be too big of a liability. He knew he needed to exert supreme control over his desires. I filed that thought in the back of my mind, knowing we would address it soon.

Turning to face in the same direction as me, he stepped under the tower of my muscled body; he turned sideways, bent slightly and pushed his shoulders under my spread legs; he raised up, lifting me from my split-leg position on the benches. My thundering thighs and striated mountains of my sharp glutes settled into his hard, warm  shoulders. My cock was forced to one side of his head, pushed painfully next to his right ear. I settled down onto the stiff triangular muscularity of his shoulders and traps. He locked the hard volumes of his arms around the circumference of my lower legs, trapping them between his steely biceps and diamond-hard pectoral swells. My cock slapped hard against his ear as he lifted me from the benches and absorbed the fullness of my staggering weight. 

Moving away from the benches, he stopped on a mat in the center of the oversized gym. He slowly began the first of his desired squats, with me sitting on his shoulders. Our bodies moved up and down together as his legs and ass muscles forced us through a series of deep, growth-enhancing repetitions. I watched in the full-length wall of mirrors. His power was intoxicating. And the vision of my body resting on top of his made my penis flex. 

I could feel the hardness of his upper body muscles as they jockeyed to adjust the center of my burdening weight on his shoulders during each repetition. His trapezius muscles pushed against my spread ass cheeks as if trying to force their way toward my unveiling sphincter. I had no doubt he would enjoy any opportunity to experience my private hole. My balls massaged the back of his neck with each forced adjustment in position. My penis throbbed with pent up pressure as it snuggled against his neck and head. Its base nestled against the side of his head, with the greater part of its long pole length projecting well beyond the front of his sweating face. Occasional drops of my pre-cum dropped onto his right pectoral.

I placed my hands on his head for balance as he continued to effortlessly push through his amazing set of muscle-weighted squats. The sweat slicked between my big calves and his heaving pecs and arms as the heat of the workout bathed his struggling body in warm moisture. I had kept count of his repps as our vast, interlocked muscularity traveled through his muscle-hardening set. It wasn't until over 100 reps were completed before the first quivering of pending failure shook through his steeled body. He forced his trembling body through another twenty repetitions before stopping.

Then, when he was done, he stood tall. His body vibrated with a slight instability as he took a short rest between sets. The inhalation and exhalation of his recovering breaths made me rock above him, slightly.

 But then, in brazen lust, he turned his head to the right. His lips came in contact with my hard-on. He kissed it, then wet it with his worshipping tongue. 

I did not stop him. His tongue and lips were like catnip to a kitten. My cock pulsed with want under his longing, wet advances. He kept kissing it and licking it while I balanced on his hard shoulders. His saliva coated my erection; he licked and licked it, making it shiny. His long tongue ran across my length, and I could feel it give as it moved over the wildly distended veins that fed it. 

BigHiimHis tongue and his lips were sensual to a degree that I had never experienced. He loved my cock, and it showed. His lips kissed it tenderly—his affection for it quite obvious. His kisses were erotic, but it was his tongue laps that drove me to a heretofore not-experienced level of arousal. I dribbled massive amounts of pre-cum; he enthusiastically lapped it up. But when he craned his head forward so that he could take my cock head inside his mouth, I scolded him. He reluctantly delivered me back onto the adjacent benches.

He stepped away long enough to grab a towel to dab some of the polishing wetness from his brow and body. His legs were monstrously huge. I was amazed at their pumped size. His thighs and calf muscles were lined with sculpted meat, and fortified with a glow of reinforcing veining. His calf muscles were overgrown balls of fluted meat. 

More than anything, his ass had become a vision of shifting rock as he moved. The iron-hard gluteus muscles danced against one another with insane definition and striated wonder. It was dizzyingly erotic to watch him flex and ripple his gorgeous, taut ass muscles as they fought along the inviting chasm line dividing them. 

It was time to work his back. 

I led him to the chamber’s staircase where we traversed the stairs up to the top level, a full three stories above the main floor. We both stood on a mezzanine and looked down onto the chamber’s floor, far below. A horizontal bar, suspended between two thick chains, floated above our heads. 

He started with weighted, wide-grip pull-ups. He wrapped a massive belted chain, loaded with 500 pounds (226.8 kg), around the smallness of his gorgeous waist and reached up above him, grabbing the bar with a very wide grip. 

Facing away from me, he showed off his cock-hardening back muscles. His immense back formed into a gigantic “V," tapering from his broad, muscled shoulders, down to his minuscule waist as he hung suspended from the horizontal bar above his head. I moved to one side and could see his thickening cock and dangling balls protruding staunchly from the hollow of his stretched lower abs, as the huge, weighted chain ripped down along each side dangerously close to their excited forms. 

I moved to his back once again, absently stroking myself a few times at the stupendous vision of his naked, rippling muscle.

At his word, I called out to my voice-activated computer; in response, a motor whirred above us, and the bar on which he hung moved out, away from the platform on which I stood. Now he was suspended some three floors above the ground, hanging from the middle of the ceiling.

He began. With one steady, clean motion, he easily pulled his body up, until his sweating head was completely above the horizontal chinning bar, and then he slowly let the weight of his body and the dangling weights pull his body back down. By the tenth repetition, the growing width of his lats and deepening thickness of his various back muscles was already morphing into astonishing proportions and striated wonder. He continued to flow through pull-up after amazing pull-up with no sign of tiring. By the time he finished his thirtieth repetition, I realized that he intended to keep going to the point of failure with the 500 pounds attached to him. 

The first sign of struggle did not appear until he had finished almost eighty reps. By then, his back muscles were so amazingly pumped and had expanded into a veritable sail of densely lined meat well over 3 feet across. He kept going. His entire body flexed right before my eyes, tightening and rippling with his amazing strength. More repps. And more. He slowed, and the visage of him struggling against the task became erotically powerful and stimulating. He labored… even more. 

At 92 reps, he paused. His glistening, over-muscled body dangled perilously over the floor far below. He just hung there, motionless, for a few moments; I wondered if he would survive this.

Struggling valiantly, he eventually forced himself through the last eight repetitions with an absolute resolve to complete one hundred. His body glowed with beautifying sweat. His face grimaced with his efforts. His muscle body tightened into new relief with every subsequent rep. He quivered with the astounding effort he put forth. He struggled valiantly, straining and trembling with his last rep. He barely completed it. 

I had the computer bring him back to the platform. Dropping to the floor, he nearly collapsed; he panted, crouched on the platform in front of me. He eventually stood, still panting. His chest heaved with his breaths, rising to magnificent size, then falling as he exhaled. He removed the chained weights from around his waist; his moist balls slapped against the top of the dangling plates as he worked. 

After he rested for three minutes, he was ready for more. While he dried his hands with a towel, and rubbed powder on his palms to help his grip, he instructed me in how I could help him with the next set.

The man reached up toward the bar again; standing on his tiptoes, his back side was a maze of rippling muscles—a veritable relief map of sensual, powerful, mounded muscles. His small waist was accentuated in this position, and his entire physique was heart-stopping in its virility and obvious strength.

He grasped the bar once again, and I climbed onto him, pushing myself against his mounded back side; my pectorals pressed against the broad “V” of his upper back. I relished the hardness of his body as my dribbling penis pressed against the small of his back. My enormous legs rippled and bulged with their vascular size as I wrapped them around his waist, locking my ankles in front of him. 

His toes left the platform on which we’d been standing.

I told the computer to move us out, and the bar on which the we hung slowly moved out over the big chamber. 

The two of us now dangled three full floors above the ground. 

His entire muscle body was as hard as any metal. In my grip he was an unmovable mass of power, rippling under my hands, torso, and legs. 

He lifted our combined weight and started another mind-numbing set of pull-ups with some 150 pounds less than he’d used with the chained weights in the first set. My 369 pounds of muscle on his back provided him with less resistance, so he could once again pump out 100 more repetitions.

The feeling of hanging in mid-air, suspended only by the strength of this muscle god—it was most erotic to me. We moved up and down, steady and slow. I felt his grunts; I enjoyed how his muscles bunched, grew, and tightened as he lifted us up and down. His body was intoxicating.

Once again, somewhere around the 90-rep mark, he stopped, hanging dangerously while he regrouped. I felt his body inhale and exhale the needed oxygen. 

He strained and struggled to get out the last few reps, and I pressed my erection against his back, causing a generous spurt of my clear liquid to gurgle out and wet him.

When he finished, I had the motor bring us back to the mezzanine. He dropped to the floor; I stood up while he huddled in a crouched mass of quivering, panting muscle. 

We made our way back town to the chamber floor where he walked to the triceps dip station. He chained up again, and hauled his wonderful body—and the additional dead weight—up onto the waiting machine. The triceps muscles rose and fell as their massive proportions grew both in immensity and definition until they screamed with their size and sharpness. 

I felt my shaft vibrate while I watched him lift and lower his body; it was a vision of exceptional stimulation to me. I’d had countless muscle men come through this chamber in the past year, but no one came close to this man. And no one had so utterly gotten me as excited as I was at that moment. My cock ached to be set free to rub all over his muscles. 

When he finished that set, he walked back to the chin-up bar that was located down on this level. He lost the heavy chain and told me to climb on once again. My erection burned with desire as it nestled between his undulating ass cheeks, sticking up against his back. I thanked the gods he stopped at 100 repetitions, because I feared if he had continued I may have exploded all over his broad, rippling back side. As it was, I needed to shake myself down and walk away for a few seconds to bring my mutinying body under control and prevent anything… unwanted… from happening.

When I returned and rejoined him, I saw a calm expression on his gorgeous face. I think he knew what he had just done to me.

Now it was time for biceps.

He turned and grabbed the 250 pound dumbbells again and began to pound through repetition after restless repetition of alternating dumbbell curls. He used 300 pound weights for the third set and was up to 350 pounds in each hand for the fifth and final set. 

When he finished, his arms had grown into great flexing soccer balls of thickly veined muscle. As he slammed the dumbbells back into place on the weight rack, he continued to flex his enhanced biceps in the mirror, with a clear look of self-approval. 

For his chest, he chose dumbbell flies. I knew well the joy of feeling my pecs rip apart as I tried to control the individual heavy weights leveraged at the end of each extended arm. I would relish the pleasure I was going to get from watching him force his chest muscles to their maximum limits this way. 

I fought my own urges to release the pressured, waiting cum from my cock as he spread his stunning body along a flat bench with his mountainous pecs and towering cock pointing skyward exaggerated in scale by the vacuumed smallness of his stretched waist. 

He did not hesitate to start his pec flies with 250 pounds (113.30 kg) in each hand. By the third set, he was using 400 pound (181.43 kg) weights, and his chest had been ripped into stunningly shredded mountains of pectoral magnificence. His silver-dollar areola and finger-thick, aroused nipples floated upon the waves of cabled muscle writhing across the oceans of his pec meat as his arms dragged the immense weights from near-contact with the floor to their dangerous clanging together above his handsome, grimacing face. His tan skin was lined with the rivers and tributaries of swelling veins emerging from within and meandering across the arching continental plates of his vibrating, undulating tit-meat. 

The fifth and final set of mind-boggling flies forced the thickness of his enormous pecs to almost hand-deep, and created a deep canyon of muscle-lined walls at the cleavage between the two great globes of meat. 

He moved to another bench, this one under a barbell set that had nearly 750 pounds (340 kg) of weight loaded. He reclined onto the bench.

I instructed him to lie still while I lifted one leg over his splayed muscle physique. With my cock high in the air, and my low-hanging testicles nearly grazing his abdominals, I took his erect shaft in my fingers and maneuvered it behind me; I lowered, and sat on his abs. His cock, erect and enormous, pressed against my back. I began tripping my fingers and palms over his enormous twin globes of pectoral beauty. His muscles were so incredibly massive and ripped. As my hands tenderly took in the rigid, rippling muscles of his amazing torso, my penis dribbled even more pre-cum onto his abdominals. I sat there for minutes, fondling his pecs and abs, spreading the clear fluid of my sex juice all over the mounds of his abs, and even turning his entire shaved chest into a shiny recipient of my clear anticipatory fluid.

His cock pressed against my back, coating it in the same way. 

While seated on his abs, feeling out his magnificent pectorals, told him to launch into his first bench set. His eyes twinkled with the expectation of performing a set of bench presses while I sat on top of him, feeling him out.

He unracked the bar, and his body tightened into an insane display of vascular definition. I was so hard, it hurt. He struggled to balance the bar for just a second, and then began. His already massive pectorals bulged under my two hands, growing into two mind-boggling domes of hard, struggling muscle. As he lowered the bar all the way, I made sure to move my hands out of the way. The bar touched his rising man-breasts. They kissed the bar, and it moved back up; my hands moved up onto those twin balls of cock-hardening muscle while he pushed up in his first rep.

I couldn’t describe the feeling of holding his pecs in my hands as they struggled, vibrated, and grew.

The man eked out 20 reps before re-racking the bar. 

I kept feeling out his massive chest while he rested; occasionally he flexed and rolled them under my appreciative hands.

Next, he moved back to the pec flies. He elected to use 300-pound (136 kg) dumbbells in each hand. He forced his chest to rip itself ever larger and higher through a series of 5 sets of presses. I watched with excitement while the man easily benched dumbbells that weighed well more than half a ton. 

The rise and scale of his flexed pectoral globes soon became as thick and bulbous as a pair of ripe watermelons. Repetition after erotic repetition pushed his pecs to maximum density, filled with striated wonder.

As he continued with his warfare-like workout, he moved to a flat bench, carrying the 300 pound dumbbells. Straddling the bench with his monstrous legs, he positioned his stunning ass into a seated position, with his heavy balls riding atop the meat of his vast inner thigh muscles and his proud cock arching high and solid above the over-large spheres of his testicles. The huge cap of his cock dripped with pre-cum and reflected the stark lighting off of its hardened crown.

He began the shoulder presses, and his entire body grew and rippled. As if they were feathers, he lifted the 300 pound weights above his head, lowered them, and pushed them up again. Repeatedly. His strength was astounding. 

Five sets of shoulder presses were flawlessly and stunningly performed. The cabled meat of his superlative delts grew and grew in front of my eyes. They were astounding; they rippled and bulged with his youthful power. He smiled to himself as much as to me with his knowledge of their expanding development. The veining that reinforced the muscles of his flexing upper arms spread thickly over the surfaces of his writhing shoulder meat. 

Standing astride the bench when he was done, he decided to do some shoulder shrugs. I told him to wait while I positioned myself. I came upon him, and stood at his back side. I bent forward just enough to push my painfully-hard cock downward so I could place it between his legs. My dripping cock head stuck out under his balls in the front. My entire body rubbed against the back of his, and it was excruciatingly erotic. At my word, he began to knock out multiple sets of shoulder shrugs. The wealth of his trapezius muscles turned into a veritable treasure chest of defined, bulging flesh as he pummeled his body to the finish line of ungodly development. 

And then he worked legs again. By the time he finished with his lower extremity workout, there were more striations crossing and crisscrossing his anatomically perfect legs than I had ever seen on any human before—with the possible exception of myself. In addition, every pulsating surface of meat on the huge lower appendages was wrapped in a webbing of veining that further defined the brilliance of his enlarged muscles. I had to consciously close my salivating mouth at the vision of his stupendous legs and ass muscles in motion as he swaggered to the opposite side of the chamber to continue his back and shoulder exercising. My painfully hard cock screamed its desire to invade the moist, muscular darkness surrounding his hidden sphincter.

He continued the workout, returning to arms, with a set of triceps extensions on his arms. I was amazed at the man’s endurance. His workout routine rivaled my own for intensity. His tortured muscles swelled as large and hard, as each arm was subjected to infuriating stress. The constricted triceps coiled like a great spring of spiraling meat from elbow to shoulder and back around the trench-deep horseshoe center. A band of reinforcing veining wrapped the meat solidly together under the transparency of his over-stretched skin. When he was finally done, weight crashed to the floor as he rose up from the bench in fully revealed—and jaw-dropping—hugeness.

I marveled at the man’s mind-numbing body. His was certainly second to only mine in development, mass, proportions, leanness & vascularity, virility, and power. 

But he wasn’t done. Tossing a towel at me, he asked me to take a strong hold of the center of the coiled fabric. I stood ready with the towel in hand as he turned away from me and knelt down in front. He raised both elbows up against the side of his head as I placed the loose ends of the towel into his grasp from behind. Using my imposing strength as his challenge, he started his first of a muscle-building set of triceps extensions.

The great rounds of divided triceps muscle arching over the bottom side of his upper arms swelled into lined springs of cabled meat as he struggled against the force of my incomparable power. As he worked out, his muscles seemed to expand right before my eyes. With each repetition I had to increase the level of my resistance. As his strength grew along with the scale of his monstrously sharp muscles, I found a struggling sweat beginning to pour from my fighting body. 

He kept working and calling to me for more and more resistance as his drive for growth took control of his muscle-feeding need. After 50 repetitions, he let go of the towel and collapsed briefly onto the floor. His triceps had grown to rival the scale and density of his legs and ass.

Following his lead, we were soon face to face with the padded panel of a preacher curl bench between us. Using the same towel, I knelt on the floor in front of him as he began to force his biceps through a tantalizing curling workout. The great balls of shredded arm muscles rolled up and extended outward as we battled together to force his flexing upper arm meat to grow. Within just a few repetitions, the difference in the size of his vein-lined biceps was discernible. He kept pummeling away with shouts for more and more resistance from me. The heated head of my cock pounded against the underside of the preacher machine as I watched his biceps curl into vast split-balls of stupefying muscle. Precum leaked in a steady, strong stream of excitement as my cock wetted itself with lubrication liquid lust. 

The sweat of his workout shined the faceted perfection of his shifting biceps. By the time he finally surrendered to exhaustion, his biceps were brilliant soccer balls of infinitely dense meat. Yet his biceps were not just big and round… they were peaked with insanely defined crowns. Any other man would have undoubtedly come right then and there, but I bore down on my self-discipline and turned away.



OBVIOUSLY EXCITED BY THE GROWTH so far, and driven to complete it, he prepared to launch into his final exercise. 

He lay face down on the floor, waiting for me to mount him. I stared briefly and longingly at the rippling muscles of his ass before forcing myself to straddle the narrowness of his lower back. With my huge, hard cock pointing up above the back of his gorgeous head, I placed my writhing ass on top of the small of his back. My balls rested on his lined erector muscles. Locking his hands flat onto the floor, he started to do the same pushups that he had used in his initial pump, only this time, carrying me up and down with him.

His rich back muscles surged with writhing power as he forced himself through each push-up. The shifting muscles grew broader and thicker with each completed rep as did the rounded cords of his striated shoulders. I was sure that the marvels of his pectoral development were undergoing the same enhancement as he ripped them through the brutal exercise. As much as I wanted to witness the growth of those signature pecs, I was as captivated by the sight of his ballooning back and shoulders. 

As his body thickened, my cock became more deeply aroused while the walled canyon of back muscles lining and protecting his spine waved at me. My penis bobbed with jumping joy, wishing desperately to explode its juices onto the man’s glorious back.

He did over 100 sweat-inducing reps before his quivering body could do no more. I dismounted him and examined the heaving form laid out prone before me. His body was sculpturally perfect, with every muscle sharply exposed on his body. He panted heavy breaths as he lay there. The great "V" of his upper body seemed to overwhelm the tight narrowness of his waistband. The huge carved ass muscles never surrendered their striated lining, even while relaxed. They solidified into inviting rounds of delightful meat. His legs were massively proportioned and highly polished with drooling sweat.

Then, finally, he rose up from the floor. It took all of my control to keep from giving away my shocked awe as the first sight of his pectoral perfection rolled slowly into view. A half dome horizon of meat on the nearer pec globed around as he turned. The skin was as silky as ever but the power and thickness of the underlying muscle brought drool to my watering mouth. The hilled mountain continued to rise away from his torso and thicken inch by pulsing inch as his upper front body spun toward me. The areola that had been the victim of my earlier mouth-fuck formed a smaller secondary rise from the solid meat of his man-tit. It, too, had been pulled to a tantalizing new size on the seriously stretched skin and the down-pointing nipple was as thick and solid looking as the end of my little finger. Yet, the stunning scale of the pectoral meat made the jar-lid sized crowning brown circle of tender areola seem appropriately sized for the gargantuan, hand-thick, muscle-tit.

He tightened his fist as he continued to turn, forcing the stupendous muscle-mammary to divide itself into an endless fan of lined, steely bands of meat chiseled into precision-cut cables wrapping over the monstrous planetoid of inhuman beauty. Soon the rear pectoral began to announce it's equally enhanced presence as its moon of muscle-meat rose above the horizon of the nearer shredded ball of marbled muscle. Carved lines of striations fell into the impossible depth of the closed cleavage canyon between the divine pectoral marvels. The solidity of the corded vertical muscle wall dividing the mountainous pecs threatened destruction to any invading hand—or other body part. 

A knowing smile bespoke his pride as he flexed the unfathomable thickness of his upper pecs up and down against his square-cut chin. 

Was his chest larger than my own now? 

The sharp fissured lining around each flatly plated abdominal was soon lost in the huge shadows cast over them by the great swell of his quaking pecs. He brought both arms hard against the outsides of each undulating pectoral as he completed his turn toward me forcing the unforgiving hardness of his massive biceps to push the central peaks of the crunching pecs outward another couple of inches.

BigMeI did not show any sign of obvious amazement; I moved closer to his harshly flexed muscularity and looked down at his astounding quadriceps. His legs were balanced in scale with the great muscular beauty of his body. The  thighs and columned calves were creations of marvelously sculpted and individually pronounced muscle. My sweating hands enjoyed the opportunity to force my wanting fingers between his hot, moist, inner thighs to both appreciate and assess their staggering size and hardness. Then he brought one arm up to form the monumental peaking of a raised biceps pose with his fabulous triceps meat fully presented. My hands encountered balls of rich meat as hard as the finest steel that had been honed and polished to perfection as they traced the circumference of their unyielding bounty.

I knew I was in for a treat as I enjoyed the small circumference that still defined his waist. What had been a waist that was measurably less than half the size of his upper torso before his workout was now one that was definitely small for the overwhelming scale of his new massive chest and back muscles. I purposely dallied over his back and pecs. I wanted my hands to know, understand and memorize every amazing inch of their brutally perfect muscularity. The quivering response of his gargantuan pectorals proved that his stiffened nipples were still as amazingly sensitive as they were lusciously inviting. My hands climbed the vast domes of his pecs and bridged the huge depths of his cleavage as they enjoyed his stupefying upper body girth. My wanting hands enjoyed his wanting body.

There was no denying the wonder of his stunningly muscled upper body. 

Then, I dragged my hands and fingers down to the glory of his painfully hard cock. Once again, he smiled—and gasped—as I caressed and fondled his glorious, thick length. As my hands slid along the upper surface of his overjoyed member, he pumped additional strength into its poled power, forcing the netting of veining on its surface to become more pronounced. His entire cock glowed with enriched hardness.

I watched his vastly muscled body pose and stretch with the pride of his accomplishment. His cock arched out heavily in a state of retained hardness and his shoulders consumed the space normally occupied by the width of two average men.

He pounded his clenched arms against the sides of his colossal pecs forcing them into a pump so hard that they wore many, many striations of cabled muscle etched onto their chiseled planetoid surfaces. He kept hitting them with the crunched spheres of his globed biceps to force the massive meat in his cabled man-tits to a rock-solid consistency. His monstrous chest muscles swelled and rolled with simmering strength as the steel-ribbed surface of the inviting pec muscles waved their invitation at me. His huge pointing nipples rose and fell like great buoys atop a deep waving sea of tantalizing meat.

My hand caressed the hot surface of his unbelievable pectoral meat. The huge muscle flowed under my rough, yearning touch but remained vibrantly solid to my digging grasp. He continued to flex both marvelous mountains of pectoral splendor as I massaged the huge moving muscles with deserved admiration—yet I was careful not to let on said admiration. I made sure to adopt an air of examination—in the same attitude a physician might use. Using only the power of his amazing muscle control, he let the movement within his writhing pec meat guide my hand toward the beautiful brown island of his right areola and on to the peaked prominence of its towering nipple.

My hand and his flexing tit played together for several minutes as I pondered the next phase of his challenge toward a hopeful, ultimate lifelong commitment to the ongoing union of our bodies. He eyed my undulating pecs as he worked his chest muscles for my fingering enjoyment. My cock beat harder with want and desire until it poked hard against the smallness of his plated lower abs. The proud display of his phenomenal pec tits and his continued working of their great muscle from within bespoke his own love for their magnificence, and his eyes told me of his want to create a chest even more wonderfully muscled than my own larger, sculpted male mammary accomplishments.

I knew I needed to break from him before we became too involved. He begged me to continue, using the controlled movement of his pecs to taunt me. I broke away and headed to the far side of the room to ready the second of his three tests. I walked slowly away and lingered behind some intervening equipment in order to put both as much distance and time as I could between us, and to regain control over my growing emotions toward him. The vision and memory of his gargantuan pecs kept me hot, breathing hard, and wanting… for several minutes. I forced my muscles to tighten in the hope that they would provide me with the strength to resist my pending orgasm. I fucking needed a very, very cold shower.

I stood at the far side of the room, facing away from him, for a few moments. I was almost panting—the lust seemed to consume my muscled body. As before, my mind filled with the fantasy of running my hard, dripping erection over every square inch of the man’s muscles, drooling copious amounts of my pre-cum all over him. And then, I would fuck him, suck him, and eventually masturbate myself between his massive pecs while he tightened and undulated them around my screaming penis. Just before I would come, though, I would withdraw from the canyon between his pectorals, and launch my seed all over his waiting body.

I took deep breaths while I stood on the other side of the chamber, fighting my own desires. I inhaled a few deep breaths and talked myself down.

Finally, I felt confident that the danger of uncommanded orgasm was past. I slowly turned back to him, feeling able to re-join him.



I RETURNED TO HIM, renewed in my determination to maintain my personal control. Before he could experience and understand my unbridled sexuality and incomprehensible strength, he had to prove himself worthy of my body. 

Thence, it was time to actually test his strength, not against metal and machine, but against something more formidable: my own muscle body.

I led my new suitor to the leg curl machine; I made him lay face down with his ankles locked under the curling bar again. I had put a ton of weight on each side so that he would have great difficulty in moving the bar. 

The unbelievable splendor of his ass was flexed out before me. The meat-mountains of his glutes and steely muscle of his inner thighs hid the moist wonder of his asshole from me.

Picking up a specially-designed barbell, I generously lubricated one tapered end of the 45 pound (20.4 kg) bar. It had been customized; it came to a dull point, having been shaved off and honed on one end, so that it would more easily penetrate a sphincter; the small tip was about the diameter of a thumb, but it widened, in the first four inches, to the standard girth of a barbell. After the four inches, it widened even farther, to approximately the girth of a standard, wooden rolling pin used for baking. It was indeed a formidable weapon if aimed at a person’s ass hole.

And that is exactly what I did. I placed it like a bridged pool cue, with its greased end kissing the meat-shrouded portal of his cherry. 

His task was simple. All he had to do was to use his ass muscles to keep me from shoving the bar deep into the warmth of his love-channel. Should I succeed, it was certain to rip his insides apart. Should he succeed, he was one step closer to a life of eternal bliss with me and my muscles.

I didn't give him time to prepare. Placing all my weight at the free end of the barbell, I began to push. My arms tightened and bulged. Then, my entire body moved into the act. 

He grabbed the bottom of the bench with all his might, and his ass and entire body froze into a display of solidly erupted muscle. Every fiber of his signature ass striations exploded into view as his glutes became fortress walls of inhuman muscularity. His lats and erectors became equally fissured with diamond hard meat as they held his body from sliding dangerously forward on the bench. 

If I could force his torso up far enough, I knew that the weight of his upper body would pull it down off of the bench and provide me with a chance—a better angle with which to force the deadly barbell-dildo inside him.

I pushed harder; he held fast. His ass was a vision of undulating definition as it resisted my every thrust. As used as he was to showing off the striking density of his ass muscles, never before had he been challenged to hold this constricted flex as long and as solidly as now. I could feel the resistance of his stupendous muscles as I tried to force the collar of steel in between his legs and ass cheeks. I leaned harder and harder onto the end of the pole. It wanted entry as much as I could imagine but the power of his flexing glutes refused to yield.

I pushed for several minutes, increasing the power of my driving force with each thrust. His body glowed with the heat of his working muscularity. 

My arms ached with the effort. The strength of his sphincter was astounding. I grunted and pushed. 


I pushed more. I started twisting the bar in my hands, hoping to force his ass hole open. I was making no progress. I moaned with aching effort. My arms, back and shoulders were beginning to scream for rest. 

Sweat spilled from both of our bodies making it harder for me to maintain my grasp and harder for him to keep from sliding along the bench. 

Eventually one of us would win. However, neither of our eventualities came to pass. It was a third option that finally occurred as the great steel bar bent in half. 

I fell on top of him at the sudden failure of the steel bar. My face soon found itself lodged in on top of his pouting, hard ass.—the meaty, sweaty space that the lubricated steel collar had previously occupied. I lay there enjoying the position for several seconds as both of us gathered our breath, tempted to stick out my tongue and lick his hole.

But I held my self control.

He had succeeded in this round. He got up immediately, beaming with proud confidence. He flexed his triumph at me finishing with his signature rear lat/clenched ass pose. It was wonderful to see and I was silently pleased that he was still here to do it. As he repeatedly flexed his ass in my face, the staunch hardness of my own massive cock guided me to the selection of the second challenge.



KNOWING THAT HE HAD NOT YET earned the right to experience the greatness and power of my stupendous cock, did not deter me from my next choice. I knew this would be in violation of my prescribed rules, but I was finding it more and more difficult to find a fuck to give.

In truth, I was beginning to believe that this man might be “the one.” If so, it was only a matter of ticking off the boxes to prove his worthiness. Yet in a very powerful way, I was believing those boxes were merely a formality. I was falling for this man, and I was definitely in lust with his deliciously-muscled body.

As I explained what was to be expected of him next, his eyes kept darting back and forth from my eyes to the rigid image of my dripping erection. Never before had I chosen to invade the body of one of my pending suitors, but my pressurized cock and I both knew that I needed to taste the wonder of his ass.

Leading him to a flat bench, I had him stand while I reclined, spreading my body along its waiting length. My mounded abs and lower back formed a bridge raised several inches above the padding of the bench suspended between the monstrous swell of my own cabled ass meat and the thickness of my dense back muscles. My wet dick pointed toward my face, up onto my abs from my groin. I pushed the base of it with my thumb, so it rose to almost vertical, like a 14 inch inflexible tower of pounding hard man-meat.

At my signal he faced me and hoisted one leg over the smallness of my extended waist. I helped to guide the positioning of his legs until the monstrous head of my cock licked the base of his exposed asshole. 

His challenge was to consume my entire stiff organ all the way up to its base. The thought of accepting 14 inches of steel-hard cock inside his amazing body of muscle was both frightening and inspiring. If he could absorb the totality of my cock, then his value as my potential lover would be confirmed once again. If he couldn't, then what better way to lose than to be ripped apart from the inside by the most amazing cock ever developed!

His chest was filled with quivering anticipation as he began move his ass to rub his sphincter over the surface of my waiting cock head. I could feel the lower ridges of his flexing ass muscles through the sensitive touching with my cock head. My drenched cock glowed with the reflected light of its heavy self-lubrication. At my insistence he began to bend his knees outward, forcing his asshole on to the pressure of my unflinching organ. His breathing grew deep; he closed his eyes, as he tried to relax the ring of his sphincter muscle. The pressure of our pressing flesh in contact grew stronger and stronger. When I sensed that he was fully locked into position, I forced my hips up; in the process, the full double-fist hardness of my cock head popped inside him.

He yipped, then murmured several grunts of controlled pain as the width and fullness of my cock head was absorbed by the stretched tender lining of his invaded intestine. After several seconds, he began to move his torso down from above, swallowing inch after widening inch of my beating, hot cock. 

I watched as his eyes filled with wetness; the pain he was enduring was, understandably, mind-numbing. His entire body writhed and twisted with the agony—and surely the ecstasy—of receiving something larger than he had ever received.

The three-and-a-half-inch (8.89 cm) girth of my steel-hard member forced the tissue of his straining intestine to glove around it. His face twisted with pain, and alternating pleasure, as he forced himself to accept my invading manhood. As the shaft of my stiff cock filled his insides, the pressures stimulating his prostate triggered the re-arousal of his own spent cock. He stiffened even as is ass accepted my hardness.

It took the better part of two minutes for him to ingest the first half of my tree-branch hard, veiny cock. The sight of his flexing and heaving muscles reacting to the power of my internalized cock within him only drove my cock to a higher state of aroused perfection. My apple-sized balls stirred with the heat of their churning cream. His rippling muscles came ever closer to my waiting torso as he began to force more and more of my cock inside. 

At this point, some of the wetness in his eyes overflowed his lids, and a single tear fell down his left cheek.

After another two minutes, a full foot of my cock meat caressed the silky lining of his intestine, and I believed I could feel the movement of his diaphragm being pressured by my pressing cock head.

His other eye let a tear drop. He squinted and contorted his entire face while his body fought to know and understand the length and thickness of my invading member.

He paused cautiously a few more times while trying to coerce his internal organs to make way for my meat. 

I reached around to his flexing ass muscles and began to massage their steel-cabled splendor. I turned my head toward the nearer mirrors so that I could see the undulations of his ripped ass. This, of course, made my hands enjoy his glutes even more. 

He leaned forward, and his hands found the monstrous planet mounds of my big, hard pecs. The sight in the mirror, of our two brutally muscled bodies anchored together by my entrenched cock, was intoxicatingly erotic.

He massaged my man tits, as if to draw from their strength. Leaning harder on my mammoth pecs, he bent his mighty legs a bit more, and forced his body down onto the last of my driving cock-pole. He moaned a painful hissing sound as the entirety of my throbbing penis filled him completely.

The wetness of his tears was joined by the wetness of his sweat, making his face shine. At this point, he began to moan and groan. The sheer size of my invading shaft was, admittedly, brutal. Few men had ever been able to take it—and that was definitely a disqualifying flaw. Yet this man was obviously determined to accept my size. 

The rubbing friction of my cock meat against the lining of his intestine filled me with a level of erotic accomplishment previously unknown to me. My cock was so deep into him that I could feel the inside lining of his undulating abs muscles pushing against the sensitive surface of my cock head. It was almost as if he could masturbate me with his abs while he encased me. I’d never felt anything this amazing. 

The last glimmers of light between our interlocked loins disappeared as his stunning ass muscles came to rest atop my bloated balls. His inner thighs constricted against my sides as the pain of his massive weight settled into the tenderness of my testicles. He breathed a sigh of relief as he came to rest on my lower abs with my entire cock rooted into the core of his being.

Needing to do something before the power of his tight ass cheeks crushed my balls, I flexed my abs and raised up on the bench into a sitting position. Surprised, he wrapped his huge, flexed arms around my neck. Inspired, I began to stand, carrying his impaled body up with me. My megalithic legs tightened, propelling us up. He locked his legs around my waist as I rose. The sensation of standing, with my immense cock filling him… was powerfully erotic.

As I stood tall, my balls hung with freed relief. I turned my head toward the mirror to see the inspiration of our two bodies rolled into one massive monument of combined muscle. The vision of the two of us—nearly 700 pounds (317.5 kg) of insanely huge, yet gorgeously defined, undulating, flexing muscle… intertwined and wrapped together—it was more stimulating than I’d ever experienced. 

I wrapped my own hands around the trimness of his waist and encouraged him to let go of his hold around my neck. He complied. I could not find words in my mind to express the feeling of monstrous power flowing within me at the knowledge that I was carrying almost 350 pounds of his perfectly sculpted muscle, held in place mostly by the power of my own superhuman cock.

Tightening my grasp on his waist, I lifted him up until about half of my cock slid out from within him. Then, with controlled release, I let gravity force the fullness of my entire cock back inside him. Our massive pecs slid together liked unbreakable granite boulders as his torso flowed back down into mine. His trapped pointing cock rubbed roughly along the ridges and valleys of our lower abs as it was dragged back down with his descending torso until the full weight of his balls rested in the shrinking void between our groins.

I repeated the muscle-masturbation of my cock several times—lifting his bulging mass with my powerful arms… up and down—until it became obvious to me that I had to either stop, or chance the unwanted and violent launching of my own cum into him. 

He had passed the second test, but without ultimate success, he did not deserve to share in my seminal cream. Grasping his waistband tightly, I lifted his entire body up off of my erotically charged cock. He used great restraint to stifle the groans of what had to be almost unbearable pain as I forced his clutching sphincter muscles to yield to the staggering diameter of my stiff cock head exiting his body. My entire body convulsed with muscular glory as I fought to keep from ejaculating.

Yet I did not lift him all the way off, yet. That proved to be a big mistake.

The staggering sensations shooting through my erection continued to push my beating cock toward unwanted release. My muscles quaked uncontrollably as I battle between wanted self-control and desired orgasm. My hands clutched his fantastically muscled waist. My arms and pecs froze into solid renderings of pure muscle as I quivered toward an unwanted explosion of cum. My cock pounded with expectation. I closed my eyes trying to force back the churning feelings in my balls and clasped his hoisted body harder.

I squeezed my ass muscles into petrified mountains of marbled meat as the cum prepared to defy my attempts at control. With my eyes still tightly closed, and while still holding his enormous muscle body up in the air, with his sphincter resting on my crown, I squeezed every muscle in my body as hard as I could—but I was past the point where my mind could control the feeling in my cock.

I barely had the wherewithal to contemplate what he must be thinking while he examined my writhing, contorted face.

But I was quickly jerked into the knowledge that my efforts to control my lusts for the man were quite possibly going to be unsuccessful. 

My arms ached with the effort to hold him up off my cock. Not that his weight was a problem, but it was the sensual feeling of pending eruption that drove me to panicked exhaustion. My powerful arms gave in to the lust, and I found myself lowering him back down onto my begging cock.

As soon as his ass muscles once again rested on my pubes, I exploded. I could feel the first eruption of cum slamming up inside him, and I felt the base of his stunning ass wrap around my root as I still tried to stop the inevitable from happening. The second jerking jolting of my rich, thick man-cream was no less powerful or voluminous.

He yelled with the pain of my explosions bursting against his insides.

My entire body constricted without regard for the unforgiving power of my monstrously charged muscles. My grip on his waist was intensely powerful.

With the third eruption of my endless stream of hot cum I opened my eyes. His ass, balls and inner thighs dripped with my searing man- juice. His torso shook in my convulsing and unyielding grasp. His body was soaked in sweat and cum. The power of my orgasmic grasp had bruised his spine and crushed the fingers of obliques muscle that had given such brilliant definition to his sides. I shot several more loads of erupting cum into his ass before I finally pulled his exquisite body up and sat him on his feet.

Even more than feeling regret for allowing myself to lose control, I worried for his health; I was afraid my mighty grip had injured him. Fortunately, his over-muscled body was nearly as resilient as my own. He healed with superhuman speed.



I QUICKLY CLEANED THE RESIDUAL cum from my skyward-pointing cock while he scooped some of my overflow from his ass, stuck his fingers in his mouth, and swallowed.

This had been disastrous. While I watched him smugly ingest my cum, licking every possible drop that he pulled from his wet ass, I felt my anger rise.

I had failed. He had drawn out my semen like metal filings to a magnet. This should not have happened. I was angry at my self more than at him. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he couldn’t help it if he was simply too gorgeous for me.

Me, however… I should have had the self-control to stop myself. I was angry and disappointed in myself.

I snapped at him. “Leave. Now.” I lifted my big arm and pointed to the chamber door. He turned, reluctantly, not truly knowing if he would ever see my over-developed body again.

When the chamber door slammed behind him, I pushed an intercom button and instructed my people to escort the man to a private suite for the night.

I pounded my fist on a small bench, shattering it in two. Making a mental note to let my people know about the needed replacement, I walked toward my shower room, just off the gym chamber.

I wanted to slug the mirror; the man who stared back at me had failed me, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.

The hot water of the shower did nothing to assuage my anger—and the gnawing fear I felt growing in my gut; had I met my match?

No! That wasn’t possible.

But never before had someone done this to me. And it wasn’t merely the defeat in the gym. It was the defeat over my heart. I wondered, seriously, was I actually falling for him? 

I found myself masturbating to him in the shower. My strong grip flashed up and down my hand as I remembered the glorious feeling of my cock inside him—and the look on his stunningly handsome face as he experienced… all of me.

I came twice in the shower. I did not clean up after myself, and I knew the staff would not clean it unless I requested.

That night, as I dreamed wet dream upon wet dream of the man, I tossed and turned uncomfortably. Tomorrow, I would need to do better. And I would let nothing stop me from proving that my body and mind were still superior.




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