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|Jim walked down the street. He had just finished working his first
job as a personal trainer at Gold's Gym, and now he was on his way to
his real job. Jim and his partner were co-owners of Eagle Leather.
He appreciated the synergy of both jobs. Jim was six feet three
inches, 220 pounds of ripped muscle. His 6% bodyfat meant ever muscle
was defined. His 46 inch chest, 18 inch arms, and 26 inch thighs
looked larger than their measurements because he was so toned. The
leather clothing he made highlighted his masculine physique.
Jim nodded to Ron, the kid who operated the tattoo shop next to his store. Ron was thin and smaller than Jim, and when they talked, Jim could see Ron checking him out. Jim liked that. He was handsome, and he knew it.
Jim put the key in the door, and opened it. Jim felt a gust of wind from the street as he closed the door. He flipped the sign from 'closed' to 'open', and walked into the back room, lifting his black t-shirt over his head as he walked. He looked in the mirror. His pecs were hefty, clearly defined and swooped proudly over his six-packed, 30 inch waist. His traps pressed into his bull neck, and his delts added inches of width to his shoulders. His biceps were thick and full, complementing his massive tris. He knew that his guns stretched the tape beyond 18 inches.
Jim took the half harness that hung next to the mirror. It was one of his creations, and he called it the Buckle D. It had two metal rings, one round, the other D-shaped, on the front that joined to the leather. The leather was studded and one and a half inches wide. Jim put the harness on. The leather fit tight under his pecs, lifting them although their mass hung over part of the leather. He buckeled the harness. He liked the way his hairy defined abs were seperated from his strong pecs by the black leather.
Jim unbuttoned his jeans, taking the opportunity to grope his substantial bulge. Jim was big everywhere. In high school, he was dating one of the cheerleaders. She was the first to stare in awe at his long, thick manhood. After sucking him for ten minutes, she was so turned on she begged him to fuck her. Jim remembers how tight she felt. She was so wet, but she still screamed with pleasure and squirmed in joy as he penetrated her. She had her first orgasm when he was only half way in. It took two or three fuckings before she could take his full length. Her yells of pleasure at his nine thick inches of hard manhood really turned him on.
Jim fucked girls throughout high school, but it never satisfied him. His big dick gave him a reputation as a stud, and he could get any woman he wanted. They all wanted to try that big dick. He began working out, hoping his body would catch up with his dick. It did. He also realized that the guys in the locker room were checking him out.
He still remembers the day in college when he first had sex with a man. Jim remembers it not only because the guy was a total stud, but because it was the first time sex had satisfied him. The sex with women was OK, but he was really just going through the motions -- doing what he was suppose to do. With this guy, he felt something that touched his soul.
Jim was in the gym working his chest. The other man was there. He was hard to miss. He was obviously the biggest and strongest guy in the gym. Between sets, Jim couldn't help but stare as the guy did curls with massive amounts of weight. Jim felt a tingling, jealousy the thought, as he watched monsterous biceps swell and strain, the man's sweat causing his arms to gleen with power. Jim wanted that power. He looked at the weights he was bench pressing, and realized the man was curling more -- his arms stronger than Jim's chest. Jim hit the weights with new determination. Between sets, he stare at the hulk, watching him pump and flex his massive arms. Jim's cock swelled, and he tried to hide his bulge.
After an hour and a half of the best chest workout he'd yet had, Jim hit the shower. The powerful man followed him into the locker room. Jim could smell the powerful man's musky scent. Jim felt so small. He tried to act cool, but his eyes kept wandering to other man. Jim inadvertently let out a gasp when the man removed his sweaty shirt and Jim saw his massive chest and ripped eight-pack. The man looked at him and Jim saw him smirk before he quickly looked away. Jim removed the last of his clothes, hiding his growing erection behind a towel. When he turned, the power lifter was staring at him. Jim hurried to the shower, turned on the water and started to clean himself off.
"Saw you in the gym," said a deep voice behind Jim. "Saw you looking at me." Jim turned, blushing, water spashing off of his body. The man behind him was more muscular than he could imagine, and he was covered in a fine mist from the shower. The man's shoulders were cannonballs, and his arms swollen with muscular power. His chest was large and defined, and his upper body tapered to a thin waist. The man's legs looked as large as Jim's chest. Jim felt his cock jump, and stammered, "Sorry. Just looking for some pointers I guess."
"You like these," said the man, flexing his arms. He turned his head toward the mountain he called a bicep, stuck out his tongue and licked it. He raised his arm higher, putting his nose in his armpit and took a deep breath. "Being a man is fucking awesome." The man turned toward Jim and looked him over. His eyes focused on Jim's growing monster.
Jim tried to turn, to hide his erection. The man grabbed his shoulder, "Don't be shy, boy," he ordered. The man's powerful hand dug into Jim's flesh, hurting him. Jim looked down, and saw the big man was getting hard too. The other man may have been stronger than Jim, but Jim's cock looked at least twice as long and much thicker than his. "You may have a small body, but you do have something nice to look at." The man moved his other hand to Jim's cock and groped him, "and touch." Jim tried to pull away. "What's the matter, boy. I saw you lookin'. I see the look in your eyes. You want this man's muscle. Go ahead. Touch it." The man took his hand off of Jim's cock and flexed his bicep.
Jim looked at it. His mouth felt dry and his heart was racing. Yes, he did want to touch it. Slowly his hand came up. He was shaking. His quiverng hand moved to the man's bicep. It was warm and so hard. Jim squeezed, unable to even dent the steel-hard flesh. "H-h-h-ow b-b-b-ig?" Jim said, his whole body on fire now with a desire he had long denied.
The man grapped Jim's wrist. First, he pushed Jim's hand into his bicep, then pulled it away. "Get out of the shower and come with me. If you're good, I might, MAYBE, let you measure it." The man turned and started to walk back into the locker room. Jim stood totally still, until the man turned. "I SAID COME HERE BOY!" Jim jumped at the intensity of the man's command. "DON'T YOU MAKE ME REPEAT MYSELF!" Jim followed like a puppy dog in obedience school. If he only knew then what he knows now.
The man went to a steam room. Jim knew it was there, but it was always locked. The man reached to the top of the door and grabbed a key. He unlocked the room, turned on a light and signalled Jim to come in. Suspended from the center of the room was a leather device. Jim had never seen a sling before, but he was about to learn all about them.
The man came up behind him. He picked Jim up and cradled him in his arms. Jim moved his hands to his master's chest. His pecs were so big, so hard. His master moved his face to Jim's rock-hard cock. He smelled Jim's fragrance, then licked at the head. He put the Jim down.
"I need to be bathed first." His master extended his right leg and flexed. "Start with this foot."
Jim looked around, searching for a cloth.
"WHAT DID I TELL YOU SLAVE! DON'T MAKE ME REPEAT MYSELF. START LICKING ME CLEAN NOW!"
Jim stared for only a second before he fell to his knees, genuflecting before his god. He extended his tongue and tasted his master's sweat. The salty sweetness of this man was an unexpected aphrodisiac for him. Jim's tongue lapped at his master's hard muscle, working his way over his foot, his diamond calf, his monsterous quads and hamstrings. Then he did the next leg. He heard his master sigh with pleasure, encouraging him. His master began to play with his erect penis, a tribute to Jim's worship. Jim wondered with his master might cum on him. He hoped so.
"That's enough boy," his master said. "That was very good. As a reward, you may worship my muscles while I stroke your dick."
Jim hugged the man's thigh and kissed it, travelling from his knee to right below his nuts, the Jim stood.
"WHAT DO YOU SAY, BOY!"
Jim thought, then said, "Thank you."
"thank you WHAT?!?"
"Thank you, uhm... sir?"
"You may play with my nipples now," said his master as he moved his powerful hand to Jim's balls. He pulled on Jim's egg-sized nuts, squeezing them in his large grip. Jim responded by licking at his master's left nipple, then taking it gently in his mouth and biting. His master laughed. "Ya, that's a good boy," he said.
Jim worshipped his muscle master, caught up in a euphoria that had been unknown to him before. The memory was a blur to Jim now, except for the knowledge that it had been a truth that changed him forever.
Too soon, his master pushed him away. "I'm ready," he said, walking over to the leather straps suspeneded from the ceiling. He placed his hand in one, then bound it with a strap and buckel. He signalled Jim to do the same to his other hand. Next, he raised his leg into a far stirrup, and signalled wordlessly to Jim. Again, Jim restrained his master's powerful body. Finally, his muscle god lifted himself into the air, placing his final leg in the stirrup. Jim buckled him in.
The man flexed. His body tensed, muscles pulsing beneath the skin as he tested his strength against the restraints. Satisfied, he spoke. "You will fuck me now. You will please me and you will make me cum. You will satisfy me and pleasure me. If you fail, you will be punished. If I am happy, I will reward you. I want to be fucked hard, and I want to be fucked rough. Do you understand?"
Jim was scared. This was new to him, yet it wasn't. He had never done anything like this before, yet there was some part of his soul that understood it all. "Yes sir, I understand. My pleasure is unimportant, sir. May I please pleasure only you?"
His master smiled. "Yes. Begin."
The muscle god's glutes were at the perfect height for Jim's erect cock. Jim's python was so hard, it nearly touched his stomach. It's massive head extended inches above his naval. He couldn't remember being this excited. Jim walked to his master. He wanted to penetrate him, but stopped. Instead, he knelt on the ground, his face staring at striated ass muscles.
Jim thrust his face into his master's glutes, forcing his tongue to find the tender spot. He began to lick and thrust, forcing his soft tongue to penetrate and prepare this man. His master, groaned, then thrashed in his restraints. "Fuck ya!" There was a subtle thrill in his powerful voice that excited Jim. Just the memory of it was making Jim hard.
Jim reached for his master's balls. They were so much smaller than his own, yet they still gave his god pleasure. He stroked them lightly, tickling and teasing the muscle man. His god's thrashing accelerated. Jim grabbed the man's nuts and squeezed. His master tensed, his ass bucking into Jim's face. His master moaned approvingly. 'He's ready,' Jim thought.
Jim's hand replaced his tongue as he stood up. He inserted two fingers, spreading his master's hole. He positioned his cock. Its head glistened with his precum. He bumped his long, fat cock against his master's rectum, teasing him with his size.
"Oh ya. So fucking big. Gotta feel it in me." Jim felt the restrained muscle man relax his rectum, willing Jim to enter.
"Yes, sir," said Jim as he put his mushroom-shaped head against his master's hole and pushed. The man's body was so hot, and his hole so tight. Jim became lost in his lust for this man. He heard his master scream in pleasure, Jim's dick stretching the man's hole. He felt his master squeeze, and Jim willed his cock harder, fighting the god's muscle with his steel-hard manhood. Jim pressed in, then pulled back, purposely pushing deeper with each thrust. Inch after inch of his fuckrod penetrated the muscle man. When he was about seven inches deep, his god let out a mighty groan.
"Fuck ya! Harder man. Oh god, that feels so good. Love a big cock." Sweat beaded on his god's body as the man's body flushed with pleasure.
Jim pushed hard, forcing his entire length into his master. The muscle man pulled hard on his restraints, unable to break free. He bucked and twisted, moaning his pleasure and fighting against his desire.
Jim watched his god flex, his muscles bulging. There was a rhythm as both entered the throws of passion. Instinctively, Jim reached for his god's cock. He stroked it, wrapping his thumb and index finger around the shaft, feeling it throb. Jim used two hands on his cock, but his master's seemed so much smaller. It turned Jim on, knowing he was bigger in some way than this muscle god. Jim also knew that his cock was no longer his own. Its purpose was to please his master.
Jim now had his full cock inside the muscle man. He wanted to cum, but held off. His own pleasure was secondary to pleasing the writhing man who was his god. Jim's sense of self died -- he was an unworthy wimp. Muscles and strength defined a man, and his master was all that and more. Only if Jim could hope to get muscle would he be worthy of such pleasure. Until then, Jim had his master.
Jim's mind returned to the present. He flexed his chest, and cupped his big dick. He grinned approvingly.
He remembers his master cumming, shooting his load violently as Jim pushed his massive cock into his muscular butt. When his master had finished, and only after he had finished, Jim pulled out and helped his master down.
Jim kneeled before the big man, his cock hanging long and hard and bouncing on the ground.
"You're still hard?"
"You haven't given me permission to cum, sir."
The big man nodded and smiled. "Is that what you want?"
"No?" His smile faded.
"Sir, may I have permission to worship you more. May I lick the sweat from your body, and taste your essence?"
"Will that make you cum?"
Jim nodded. "I don't think I will be able to help it, sir."
"Thank you sir. Please, sir, please flex for me."
Jim remembered how hard the man's body was, flexing his body in the mirror to remember how strong and hard his master had been. His master's sweat was salty-sweet, and Jim lost all sense of time. Jim would lick the man's calves, and he would flex them wide. Hard. Strong muscle like Jim had only imagined, yet now, he could experience. When the man shook his relaxed thighs, dense muscle undulated then snapping into ripped steel bands as he flexed for Jim. Jim's cock hurt it was so hard, yet he held back. He wanted to enjoy his master more. The man's cock hung limp, spent from the pounding Jim had just given him. Jim licked his master's balls, feeling their size and weight with his tongue. His master flexed his abs, a beautiful masculine washboard of power. Jim stroked an outline of each muscle with his tongue, licking the sweat and cum from them.
"Master, would you please strike a crab pose for me and crush my face in your massive pecs and rock-hard stomach?"
In a second, Jim's face was engulfed by the man's thick torso. Muscle swelled around him and pressed into him. His face was deformed by huge man-muscle. Jim's cock jumped as his sensors were overwhelmed by his master's power. Jim's eyes were trapped in a cavern created, but his master's backetball-sized pecs. He was overwhelmed by the musky scent of masculinity of his master's sweaty body. He licked, tasting the powerful man. His master's breathing was deep and heavy as he ground his muscles into his slave's wanting body. Jim felt a burst of precum rise in his cock and dribble onto his master's thigh.
"Ya, you liked that boy," said the hulking man as he pulled away. "What about this?" he asked as he flexed his bicep into Jim's face. "21 inches, and growing. Going to make these guns bigger than anyone elses. YOU LIKE THIS BOY?"
Jim throw his face onto the peaked muscle, sucking on it with his mouth and licking at it with his tongue. He moved his face into the man's pick and cleaned it with his tongue. He was like a starving man who had just been given food. The experience of his master's huge arm, his popeye-like forearm and his bicep as large as a baseball was too much. Jim shot his load, a volcano that erupted for seconds. Cum squirted high and hit his master's pecs and clung to his superhuman arm.
This first encounter changed Jim forever. His master was so pleased, he allowed Jim to be his boy for the rest of the year. He taught Jim how to lift, and how to eat. Jim grew. His current 220 pounds of muscle is a direct result of this encounter. His master offered him steroids and growth hormones to grow "his boy". Jim experimented, but decided to stay natural after his first cycle.
After graduation, Jim's master moved away. They kept in touch, and Jim cried several years later when his master died of heart failure. He had bulked up to over 320 pounds of muscle. The death certificate said steroids were a contributing factor. Jim didn't care. He knew his master had been happy. He was big and strong, and that's all that mattered to him.
Jim's erect cock pressed hard in his codpiece, seeking escape. He was a master now, worshipped by men for his muscles. He was handsome and exuded confidence. Still, a part of him longed for a stronger, bigger, more handsome man who would dominate him.
Jim turned, ready to open the store. He was startled to see a man behind him. No, not a man. A hulk. The man was shirtless, with foot-thick pecs and arms bigger than Jim's legs. The man's skimpy shorts looked liked his massive quads had burst out of them. The man was holding pieces of metal. His penetrating eyes were staring at Jim, and Jim felt naked and weak before him. Jim felt a pain in his crotch as his erection tried to rip through the sheath that bound it. Jim tried to talk, to say he hadn't seen the man, but he couldn't form the words.
Finally, the man spoke. "I need you to make something for me."
Adam raced through the desert. He stared in the direction of the City, looking for the store. He saw it. Eagle Leather. Adam had only been in the store once, and it took him several months to build up the courage. He had seen the shop owner on the street. He was so handsome, big and strong. Adam was instantly attracted. The man obviously lifted weights, and Adam was never that athletic. When he went into the shop, he tried on a harness. The owner wore one, and his pecs bulged seductively around the leather. On Adam, the leather hung lose on his flat chest. That was before...
In moments, he was nearly to the City when his super-vision found the store. It was closed. A sign said it would open in fifteen minutes. Good. Adam needed the time. He needed money to pay for his new look.
He stopped. Money. Adam had never worried about cash before. He lived simply, but since he was out of work, he was living day-to-day. He looked at his powerful arms. They were strong enough to bring down mountains. A bank would be no problem. He could rip a cash machine from a wall and take the money so fast, no one would even see him. Adam's conscious said, 'no, this was wrong.'
It would be easier if Adam were a criminal, but he wasn't. He knew guys who ripped off grocery stores or stole cars, but that wasn't him. But, maybe, would it be wrong to take their ill-gotten gains? In an instance, Adam was on the move.
Adam trained his super-senses on his target. Bill "The Head" Osborn had been one of his tormentors in high school. The guy was a jock, and got his nickname from dealing drugs. He never left the old neighborhood, though Bill had bulked up. He didn't do the drugs he sold, but used his "business" to fund his own bodybuilding obsession. Bill didn't hide his steroid use. In fact, he flaunted it. He used his massive build to intimidate anyone who might even think about turning him in for selling coke or pot to kids. He traded sex with heroine-addicted women to keep them hooked. Adam had learned to keep his distance, until now. In the blink of an eye, he was in front of The Head's apartment door.
Adam stared at the door, and it became transparent. The Head was lying on a couch, shirtless. His 56 inch chest dwarfed the small cushions, and his ripped abs flexed as he breathed in and out. His cannonball shoulders were in perfect proportion to his massive arms, which looked to be 22 inches unpumped. The guy looked in total competition shape, totally unaware that a man with a superior physique stood less than ten feet away.
Under the couch, Adam saw a shotgun. It was loaded, and ready to go. In the bedroom was a stash of money. In a dresser, he saw drawers filled with drugs.
Adam had been carrying the power metal. He unzipped his pants, and placed the codpiece over his cock. The pants strained to contain the metal. He placed the other metal in his waistband, making certain his powersource wouldn't leave him while he did what he had to do. When all was secure, he stepped to the door.
Adam flicked his index finger at the door, and it burst off its hinges and flew to the other side of the room as if it had been it by a powerful battering ram. The Head started to jump up as Adam walked into the room, twisting his shoulders which were too wide to get through the doorframe. The Head froze as he took in the massive musculature of the intruder. Adam responded by bouncing his watermellon-sized pecs while spreading his wing-like lats. Adam sensed fear, awe and jealousy from the man.
The Head began to reach for his gun. Adam let him. "Who the fuck are you?" said the Head, pulling the gun from below the couch.
"Does it matter?" said Adam casually.
The Head didn't even aim as he pulled the trigger. Adam was so big, how could he miss?
Adam watched it all. It was like slow motion as the trigger moved backward. Adam saw the bullet come toward him as he stepped aside at super-speed. The bullet was so slow, it was no effort at all for him to grab it from the air and hold it in his big, powerful hand.
The Head saw none of this. All he knew was one second the intruder was in front of him, and the next, he was sitting on the couch.
Adam held the bullet in his hand. "Missed."
The Head had no time to react as Adam grabbed the gun. He grinned. Like he had seen Superman do so many times in the comic books, Adam held the gun before The Head and slowly tested it into a pretzel then a knot. It felt as easy as twisting a pipe cleaner. No, easier. He felt the need to make a bad joke, so he said, "Little boys shouldn't play with toys. Someone might get hurt."
The Head started to run. Mistake. Adam's hand snatched him before he could take one step, and pulled him onto the couch.
Adam flexed his mountainous bicep in The Head's face. "See you got some muscle on you. Not as much as I got. This here arm, it could crush you like a nut without even trying. You liked to pick on those weaker than you. I know. Well, now, you are way weaker than me."
Adam paused. He heard The Head's heart pounding in his chest. He sensed confusion from the man. 'Go ahead, try and fight me. I know you want to,' Adam thought.
The Head responded by throwing a punch at Adam. It hit him in his left pec. Adam saw The Head hitting a punching bag, nearly causing it to explode with the force of his punch. Adam knew this was one of the man's memories, but he didn't know how he knew. It didn't matter. Adam hadn't felt the punch as anything more than a fly landing on his chest. On the other hand, he sensed pain from The Head, as if the other man's hand had just hit a brick wall.
"See, wimp! That's real muscle!" said Adam.
"Now, I know you deal drugs. That's wrong. You won't be doing that anymore. In fact, you won't be doing much of anything." Suddenly, in front of the two, all the money and all the drugs appeared. Adam moved so fast, The Head hadn't even known he had gone. "You see, this is my money now. And as for the drugs, I think you ought to take them. All."
Using his powers, Adam liquified the heroine with bursts of heat from his eyes. At superspeed, he filled syringes full of the poison. The Head watched, as syringes appeared before him, the superhuman intruder a blur.
"Don't worry, this won't hurt much." Suddenly, syringes poked into the man's body, finding veins that filled with the poison from the emptying needles.
"How does that feel? Hmmmm...."
The drugs hit The Head like a tidal wave. He felt his heart flutter. Before the drugs could kill him, Adam smiled at him. Adam placed the bullet on his hand, and with his index finger flicked it in Bill Osborn's skull. The drug dealer's head exploded. Before blood could splatter, Adam had collected several thousand dollars and jumped from the window. He now had the money he needed.
Adam looked toward Eagle Leather. He saw the owner walking toward the store. He nodded to someone in a tatoo shop, then opened the store. Before the door closed, Adam sped past him unnoticed. Adam moved to a dark corner and watched as the owner removed his shirt, revealing the ripped muscular chest that Adam longed to touch.
The owner took down some leatherwear, and began to change. Adam stared at him, and the man's thoughts were revealed. His name is Jim. Adam wanted to know all about this man. Adam saw a gym, and knew Jim was a personal trainer on the side. Jim loved muscles. Jim was dominant, but wanted to be dominated. 'How Jim? Why? What made you the man you are?'
Adam saw Jim stare into the mirror. Jim began to remember. Jim's life played out for Adam. Jim's master. Jim's love of muscle. Jim's love of sex. It was like watching a movie that originated in Jim's mind. Adam approached Jim, stood behind him and willed Jim not to notice him. Jim flexed and stroked his big cock as he remembered his master, and Adam watched. Now Adam understood.
As the memory ended, Adam released his hold on Jim. Jim turned, startled to see Adam behind him.
"I need you to make something for me." Adam pulled out the metal rings and codpiece, showing them to Jim. Adam stepped forward, placing his big hand on Jim's strong chest. He felt the harness that supported the leatherman's pec. "Just like this would be mighty fine."
Jim reached up and felt Adam's pec. "Damn."
"Think you can do it?"
"Know I can," said Jim. "I'll need to measure you."
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