NOTE: The REAL Jason, on which these stories are based, is currently serving in the Persian Gulf as
a member of the US Armed Forces. He DEMANDS that once you have read this story, you send him an
email about it: his address is teenmonster88@yahoo.com.
WARNING: This story contains gruesome violence of a gruesomely violent fantasy sexual nature. If you
are underage or easily offended, then stop reading. That's another order!
Jason Dreams Big
By Chip Masterson
Jason declared a holiday. For one day, no work or regulation of any kind. The townsfolk were free to
do whatever they wanted. Of course, absolute freedom never truly exists. An ingrained terror of Jason's
divine and just wrath coupled with the onset of Stockholm Syndrome drew the town closer and tighter than
it ever had before, so that Jason's complete absence had no affect whatsoever. They policed themselves
and each other. It was first nature now; second nature was whatever remained of their identities and other
bodily functions.
I clung to the immense cables of Jason's upper traps as he palmed his way up a 2000-foot sheer cliff-face.
With no visible hand or footholds, Jason's fingers gripped the granite so hard it cracked. He didn't use
his legs at all. His arms pulled us up the side of the cliff so fast my ears popped. When we reached the
20-foot overhang that daunted all the amateur rock-climbers in the PJ (pre-Jason) era, he paused. He
scratched his nose while his other hand pressed flat against the rock and hairline cracks radiated out
around it. Break it out of the way with a single blow? All obstacles presented this dilemma, since
nothing could ever stand in his way. His respect for nature, however condescending he was toward it's
slowness and weakness relative to his own strength, prevailed, and he spider-walked across it while vertigo
spun my head and I choked back vomit.
In an awesome display, Jason crunched his abs and actually flipped up backward around the overhang, twisting
us both through the air to land teetering on the lip. His landing? A perfect 10. I dropped off and scrambled
away, unable to suppress breakfast any longer. Jason detached a canteen from his belt (his only attire on this
fine mountain day) and tossed it to me with a laugh. (Of course, his "canteen" was a 5 gallon water bottle filled
with his Holy Water, for my use alone. He'd drink a local stream dry in a little while.)
He hadn't been this relaxed and happy in a long time. His crushing of the presidential delegation put him in
a merry mood, and the town's rallying to him in selfless sacrifice merely affirmed the rightness of everything
he had done so far. Not that he needed or even looked for the affirmation or for that matter cared. But when
you see it, smiling at you, it can't help but lighten your step.
"You don't know what I'm capable of," he said. "You think you do, but you've got a child's understanding compared
to what possibilities lie within these muscles." He began flexing idly, languidly, letting me watch his muscles
leap and harden like trained stallions at his command. "I might decide I'm sick of that mountain right there,"
he continued, bending his arm to point so his forearm belly bristled out and his bicep rose like a zeppelin, still
peaking dizzyingly despite his backward-facing forearm. "I could go up to it and start wailing on it, pounding it,
then wail some more, just wail on it some more, until it caved in and crumbled into a valley under this teen muscle
force. Or that river winding lazily down there. I might want it to flow backwards. So I'd blast a tunnel into the
substrata at exactly the right spot, and shove up, cracking and forcing the earth's crust up so that the water had to
flow the way I wanted it to.
"That valley? Maybe I want a mountain there. Nature takes too long to go about this business so sometimes a Man
has to take over. I'd pry open the plate boundaries, shoving whole pieces of the continent aside with these"
(triceps jutted out from behind his arms like fabled sandworm jaws spreading wide to swallow whole cities, the
three heads bouncing light with a shimmer of golden down) "and then ram the piece I wanted over until the rock
strata be-e-e-e-ent up, folding back under my duress, to surge and rise and grow to MY specifications."
He cocked his eye at me with an evil grin. "You know the way the earth shakes with every step I take?" He waited
for my respectful nod.
"That's not simply my extreme weight, the 867 dense pounds of power packed onto my six foot seven inch teen frame.
It's also the earth itself, trembling to feel ME on it. I frighten the fuckin' planet. What do you think about
that? It quivers in terror, fearing when I might just so THIS!" Dropping to one knee, he raised is fist and punched
down, pulling it an inch from the surface. Separating out the mini-quake from his initial drop, I swear I felt the
cliff-top flinch, a pre-quake shudder echoing UP from deep inside the rock ... as if the planet had actually flexed
its abs in preparation for the blow.
The world swirled around me again and Jason read the disorientation on my face, KNEW my mind had been blown by this
super-natural display of utter dominance over creation itself.
"I could do this anywhere. Tibet's a desert because of the Himalayas. What if I battered them down and shoved
India back out into the ocean? I could completely redirect the entire continental drift, turn the whole planet
around. I wouldn't have to be much bigger than I am now. 'Cause I'm still growing, you know." He winked and a
thrill akin to horror, as if I found myself relishing a cannibal's feast, spun donuts in my head.
He lay day on the rock face and squirmed, the way you do at the beach to make a little bed. Only his bed was
rock that shattered into sand beneath his grinding back muscles, his globular ass, his pile-driving calves. He
leaned up, his lats and arms bunching and shoving each other like brothers in a twin bed. "I had a dream last
night. It was the best dream ever. Come over here and worship my pecs while I tell it to you." A tenderness
crept into his voice, and deeply touched, I clambered onto his abs, harder than the rocks I'd been sitting on,
and began sucking his right nipple, itself nearly as big as my own cockhead. His monster cock began creeping up
behind me and I relaxed my asshole to welcome it. But he so utterly controlled its inflation by dint of will that
it merely teased me, waving like a snake mere centimeters from my spread cheeks, kissing them with its gluey precum
and then retracting with a sharp pull that stung and tore fine hairs out.
His nipple was salty, tough as rawhide with a velvety feel against my tongue, and my gnawing electrified his body.
His pec danced and flexed in response to my bites, nibbles and sucks; I always end up with extensive facial bruising
as a result, but pain is my friend. Sometimes his pecs can knock teeth loose or dislocate my jaw, but since the
Jason, Idaho medical professionals are on call 24/7, that's never a problem. I always heal stronger than before.
After a few moments of savoring my suckling and driving me to a pitch of disconcertion with his cock athletics,
Jason opened up about his dream, the first one he'd ever told me. "Of course, right now I'm the most powerful
being ever to walk the earth. I could herd dinosaurs at Jurassic Park if anyone had the balls to let me. I'd
make raptors cower and crap themselves. But in my dream, I was a true giant, 200 hundred feet tall. I weighed
over fourteen tons. My cock? Fifteen feet long ... soft. My handspan was nearly twice that. You can imagine
what my other dimensions were."
My consciousness blinked in and out. My painfully-hard cock strained at its skin and brushed maddeningly the
hard peaks of his abs as his concave belly rose and fell with each breath, the cobblestones swelling and flattening
as he absorbed the electric shocks coming out of his nipple. My mouth went dry trying to get that nip to juice me
so I lapped up sweat from his dollar-sized aureole. My own nervous system exploded with pleasure and constrained
anticipation.
"The feeling of having my power amplified to such a scale made even me blink. I was a classical God on earth,
able to stop it spinning and twirl it backwards, or pull the sun out of the sky with sheer muscle. And as a God,
I require no clothing, yet not just anyone is entitled to see my Godhead--" THACK! He slapped my cheeks so hard
with his cock a welt formed and I instinctively clamped my molars onto his nipple. He purred in quiet ecstasy while
my jaw ached. Had it been my own tongue I would have chomped clean through it, but I didn't even break the skin of
his dark brown nip, which rebounded against my teeth and forced them all slightly outward. My eyes teared with pain
and my cock jolted with pleasure and butt-saliva oozed out of my gaping chute as I hungered for the impalement he
refused me.
"So I ripped the roof off a research facility where they were making nanotubes. You know, carbon nanotubes that
are like 1/50,000 the size of a human hair but 100 times stronger than steel and a sixth the equivalent weight?
I didn't even remember reading about those but in the dream I knew all about them, and made the scientists make
me a fullerene jock strap. Since this is the strongest material even theoretically possible -- to puny minds that
is -- I knew it's the only thing that stood a chance of containing my massive erection without tearing apart ... right
away. The way three or four inches of carbon steel would. At over $900,000 a pound, I pretty much bankrupted them
but they didn't want to drown in my piss or suffocate under my shit and they managed to pull it off. The first time
nanotubes had ever been assembled in such large quantities, as fabric, done for big old me. For free.
"It felt great, the support, the tightness, the strength pulling against mine. I knew eventually I'd have
to rip it, just to prove there is one Man-made material stronger that that," at which point he tapped his bicep,
a hard clacking sound of nail against granite, and I tantrically repressed another orgasm while my eyes rolled
up in their sockets. "But for now, the way my package bounced and hung, perfectly outlined yet almost invisible
since the carbon was so very black, it was just great.
"As I walked, I could feel the continental plate groan beneath me. Each step sent quakes out that broke houses
in half windows and bounced cars onto the roofs. If I ran, I could destroy everything in seven states and western Canada.
"Soon I found myself in the middle of some great city. Skyscrapers towered over me, but you know how I can bring
one down in about five minutes now? They were nothing. I bent over and shoved my hand through the glass of the
tallest one, crushing its central spine in my Kong fist, and reached up to grab the same column a quarter of the
way up. I twisted and heaved and ripped the entire structure up out of the ground, parking garage and all. Cars
and people and machines fell out or smashed against the shatterproof windows, but the structure held together. I
felt its immense tonnage test my bicep, and twitched my bicep to curl that fucker up and show it who's mightier.
Then I hocked it straight up like a fuckin' spear, and it flew.
"People were flattened against the floors and windows by the speed my power put on it, but a lot of them survived,
just crushed down onto their legs. As it rose higher and higher, the air got colder and rarer, and they started to
suffocate and freeze at the same time. Some of them were still alive when the tower blasted past the stratosphere,
watching through reddened eyes as the sky turned blacker and blacker around them, stars coming out as the pressure
builds inside their ribs, arms, heads, ears, eyes.... Then they're getting bigger, like they're trying to imitate
ME, but they can't handle this teen size and their skins rip, their organs turn inside out, their blood boils in
their veins and their soft ballooning bodies swell until they burst. It's like stomping on bubble-wrap the way all
those people popped and spattered, hysterical and lost and alone and suddenly seared by solar wind as their office-hearse
sailed on toward the edge of the solar-system, a grisly message to any aliens flying around out there not to fuck
with ME. This planet is mine, and they can go do their anal probes on some sissy-god's world."
"I turn to the next skyscraper and see the people scurrying, trying to get out of it. They're like ants,
running out of the tower. I put my hands on each side, crunching the glass and steel and marble facing until
my fingers find the real support deeper inside, and then I shove --DOWN. The tower shudders along its length
from my first shove and glass cracks all the way up to the penthouse. I shove again, and feel my huge lats
spread out behind me, like an explosive cloud of solid man-muscle. The steel columns according at the bottom
and the bottom floors start falling off, crashing into the ones below and smashing into the fleeing workers.
I shove down a third time and that's all the tower can take of this teenager. It cracks and the tilts and the
whole thing collapses like a house of cards.
"But it raises a huge cloud that rises up around my legs, and my waist, starting to come up to my face. That's
nasty, all that asbestos and poison and shit, so I tilt my head up and suck in a huge lungful of air from above
me. I turn and blow into the cloud, knocking it back so hard and fast cars flatten in the street, trees snap in
half, fire hydrants break off and the water shoots in all directions SIDEWAYS because its pressure can't handle
my massive blow. I keep blowing, driving the cloud back and away, and trucks start flying away with it, flying
into buildings, exploding. People of course go sailing also, miles and miles through the city unless they splat
into a building. I turn around in one continuous breath and send that nasty debris cloud off at speeds in excess
of 100 mph. I'm like an inside-out tornado, blowing everything away.
"When I stop, the winds keep going. I drew in and blew out so hard I pulled the jetstream out of its course,
bent it down at the city and set up a convection current. Already nature is being warped by my merest actions.
But these deaths were distant, empty. I longed for something physical. I feel something ping against my skin.
"The entire city police force has pulled up and, hiding behind their teensy tiny cars and SUVs, is firing at me
with their teensy tiny weapons. Now, my index finger is a yard longer, twice as thick, three times as heavy and
a hundred times stronger than the biggest of those cops. So pitting them against my fingers is no challenge.
"I reach down and start scooping up handfuls of cops. It's not like that lame movie you showed me about those
giant teens where they move super-slow and can't catch little Ronnie Howard on his tricycle. I'm faster than
they can even imagine, and my fingers peel the tops of cars and SWAT trucks and find them all. A few arms or
ribs get broken but nothing fatal ... I want them all alive. I start stuffing them in my jock. My elbows are
crunching into buildings, smashing stone and concrete, bending girders, and by the time they can even react,
I've got three quarters of them trapped around my cockshaft and the amazingly flexible megananojock. It's like
some sort of super-Lycra, and their bodies and sometimes faces are outlined like a bunch of gross warts.
"They start running away but I'm still too fast. They fly down basement stairs and I merely shove the building
over and rip up the floor to find them. The commander I save for last, wedging him in from underneath right
between the lips of my pisshole. I've even had to pull my balls out to make room for the cops, and the jetstream
breeze against the fine hairs on my sac gets me all ... tingly.
"But so does their helpless pounding and scraping around the thick column of my pisser. They're stacked against
it six or seven deep, giving me the biggest fuckin' basket in the entire history of the world. I look like some
sort of Colt whore model with this huge schlong, wrapped in its cop-condom. There's a lake near the city and I
walk over to admire myself in its surface. Feeling the cops struggle for breath, trying to dig into my meat or
punch through the fullerene jockstrap is starting to really make me feel...."
I gasped as his cock speared into my, plowing over a foot into my guts and tearing, yet again, my sphincter muscles
apart. Thank Jason his cum has such healing qualities. Still, my blood spurts out in a fine spray and his abs
tighten into something indescribable, hard as frozen steel yet burning hotter than fire, shattering my own tantric
concentration and forcing my cum to spray my jaw despite the explosive pain in my ass. My teeth clamp down on his
nipple hard enough to flatten it between them, my head jerks back and forth trying to rip it off (no fuckin' way though),
he sighs deeply as he feels me gush out my last drops. My body jerks and smashes my cock against those abs. My lips
part in agony and I suck in my own cum with feverish breaths, hanging suspended in mid air: his cock raising me up
off his body, my head firmly attached to his pec-head, my hands and legs splayed and pounding as hard as I dared
against his impenetrable body. I wouldn't be able to move tomorrow ... and I knew he wasn't done making me come.
I just hope my balls could churn up more juice before the dry-heaves make me pass out like the last every single time.
Jason chuckled at my loss of control, at how easily-- and dare I say happily? -- I become his cock-puppet. He drew
in a self-satisfied breath, the kind that lets you know you haven't seen NUTHIN' yet, and continued. But first he
put his hands behind his head and half-flexed his massive bi's, making my spent cock grow immediately again. The
pain was like broken glass and my cum-laced saliva bubbled down my chin. His fingers gently pried my teeth apart
and his cock swung me over to his other nipple. I glanced back while I doglicked his rough fingers and saw the one
I was leaving stood throbbing inches off his trembling pec, drooling my cum-spit and its own salty sweat.
He'd been tweaking his free nip while I worked the other and I nearly gagged as his pec thrust the huge thing
into my mouth. His chest muscle smashed my nose and for a lingering moment I didn't know when I'd be allowed to
breath again. It was like sucking a pygmy cock with your face to the wall. I felt my circuits fry in my brain
as pleasure, pain, and the terror of helplessness merged into a single ocean that carried me away with it, embracing
and gently buffeting my hard-muscled body. His pec relaxed enough for me to sniff freshly-bloodies air into my lungs.
"The cops in my jock began to itch, slightly, with all their screaming and scratching. A couple were able to
maneuver their handguns and fire at cock meat point blank, but the bullets merely flattened and the gun barrels
exploded, shooting shrapnel into their buddies. This just excited my manliness even more.... It twitched a couple
of times, and when they felt the obscene pressure against them increase ever so slightly, their panic broke into madness.
"I'd only just begun to swell, but they were now fighting each other, trying to get out. But even though the
material stretches when faced with teen power, the entire force couldn't muster the muscle to stretch the seal
into an escape route. The welling pressure continued to grow, slowly, so slowly. You know how I can regulate
all my body systems at will, how nothing is beyond my control? It was no different in the dream. I grew a little
thicker, a little harder, a little longer. The material complained as its hundred-times-steel density was forced
apart by my denser manhood, and a tickling clatter of limbs, ribs and spines snapping wove like lightning up and
down my shaft, snaking around and palpitating it with jerks and sproinging fractures.
"That made it want to grow stronger, faster, longer and harder but I restrained it the way I'd restrain a locomotive
or naval destroyer that tried to get away from my control. I reined those horses back in and made them stamp in place,"
here he straightened out his arms, making his bi's and tri's separate into halved-moons, then slowly dragged his arms
together in a pec-fly that could have crushed my skull had it been between those surging mountains. "I only allowed
it to grow another inch or two, then stop. The men wheezed and struggled, finding breath harder to draw. Cockveins
dug into their bodies, pumping away and cracking ribs and skulls. The fullerene cockstrap tried to choke off my dick
but got stretched out of shape for all its tensile strength. Fingers snapped like pine needles.
"The material really is strong, and since my boner had been hanging down, it's now curving out and shadowing half
the lake. The curve now allows some space to open up, and the cops scramble, writhe, bend themselves into this
pocket. By now my virility was over twenty feet long, wide as a semi, and with each throb it stayed a little
bigger. The slow jerking pulses ground bones against each other or into the implacable hide of my groin snake,
shredding bone, skin, and muscle in slow heaves. Blood gurgles into blisters that had been men, pooling and drowning
them. Cock strains material as it battles to straighten ... a battle it WILL win. I ached to stroke myself off, but
I controlled that desire too, not wanting to waste all those good cops for a quick easy pull.
"They were still hyperventilating, trying to call out for help, their few unbroken but weakening arms incapable of
taking advantage of the nanotubes' forced expansion to pry a rip open holes. As I straightened out, the pocket of
cops began screaming, seeing my huge blue vas deferens coming closer. They press their arms up against it but the
space constricts and their broken bones puncture other bodies. Their terror spreads to enliven others going catatonic
with nerve damage and suffocation, and the entire living mass massages my meat anew with shoves and spurts of blood and
teeth breaking as they attempt to bite through the veins.
"The heat was building up at a hundred percent humidity as well, and despite the constriction, the sheath of
broken cop-meat around my pleasure pole began to slip and slide with a moving, breathing rhythm of its own.
The jock practically screamed as it stretched, long bands crunching into the cop's skulls, shattering riot
helmets and severing limbs. Make a note to find a real lab and force them to make me some real clothes out
of this shit. It's the fuckin' H-Bomb, son.
"The thing is, as I get longer, that gives the sweat and blood-lubed cop-dom more room to stretch, even as the
buckyball ball-strap presses them flatter against my monster growth. So the extra breathing room gives them the
smallest bit of hope, even as it's squeezed right back out again. Their bodies begin mashing together, hearts
racing against other hearts, three lungs inflating in one chest. Blood and lymph can't spurt very far so sheets
of fluid seep through the mass as they cry and weep with confusion and fear, crawling to their useless god who
doesn't dare show his face around ME. Not after the hurt I put on him in that dream you had, boy.
"My tumescence severely stresses the so-called strongest material possible, and it squeaks as my pulsating meat
pulls it tighter against the lumpy cop-sheath. The commander is slowly being crushed in the pincers of my piss-lips,
my thick pre-cum oozing into his wounds and my sperms starting to wiggle into his cells like they were eggs. His
body begins blistering all over as my sperm penetrates each cell in his body, commandeering his DNA, shutting his
genes down and turning him into one giant pustulating tumor of jizz-cancer. He squirms and writhes as even his
organs and eyes and bones are permeated with Godspunk. It's like my precum is melting him from the inside out.
"Now my cock is almost thirty feet long, wide as a jumbo-jet, its veins becoming visible through the squirming
worm-mass of cops still trying to survive the incredible crushing power. They're being raped but not up their
puny asses, I'm raping the whole fuckin' police force as a unit, turning the entire corps into one big sphincter
ring to be torn and shredded by growth-power it cannot handle. And STILL they bubble and moan and beg for mercy,
even as their bones pulverize inside the lasagna-layers of flattening donut-fed police-pork."
My ass and legs have gone numb from the still, solid presence of Jason's cock throbbing inside me and my body shakes
with animal terror I cannot control, but my mind trusts him so utterly that don't give in and let my limbs jitter on
their own. I continue to work his nipple, biting and twisting it with my teeth, tonguing the small crater and feeling
it lengthen slowly toward the back of my throat. My own nipples, so greatly increased in size and weight under Jason's
tutelage, pull urgently toward his abs, aching for a feather's touch or an electric clamp....
"My cock is nearing maximum tumescence, topping out at just over thirty-five feet. Small holes have opened up in
the nanotube fabric, its super-steel density no match for Jasondick. High-pressure streams of cop blood spray
immediately out into the lake and surrounding countryside, a dozen pinprick geysers of bright body fluids. The
material contracts tighter around my sexbeast, but maybe I'm not completely done ... growing. Maybe I've got
another foot in me, and I close my eyes to concentrate, to get my pleasuremeat's attention and force it to keep
lengthening. Bigger than its ever grown before. I clamp my jaw and feel my cockskin tingle as stretch marks
zigzag across it and the last gasps of the police force squirt out the widening tears with a pink froth of pulped
flesh. Another inch ... and another ... and another ... my WILL conquers my cock and it obeys me, growing to
thirty-six fuckin' feet, one-fifth my height, man. Do you IMAGINE what a 141/2 inch cock would be doing to you
right now, BOY?"
My teary eyes sparkled with greens, reds and blues at the thought of his cockhead actually pressing up against my
heart, stretching my diaphragm like a rubber as it penetrates my chest cavity. I pull his nip in one long suck
that nearly detaches the skin from his pec, and I can feel him smile at my response.
"So now we know my cock could penetrate a hundred plates of steel to get at what it wants. The multi-million dollar
miracle of science suddenly bursts into shreds, exploding macerated cops along with it. Gallons of cop-soup dump
into the lake while a huge dollop splats up against my pecs and over my shoulder as my freed cock rises to its triumphant
70-degree angle. I longed to grab it, thank it and squeeze it... but the thought of all those unworthy cops, unable
to provide even the feeblest resistance against me, stopped my hand. I didn't want to soil myself any further with
their worthless blood.
"I needed something to fuck. But what? The dinosaurs were all extinct. How I'd love to wrestle a T-Rex or a
Giganotosaurus down, slowly overcoming its wildness with my utter controlling manliness. How great would it
be to feel their legs widen as I spread mine, massive hips tearing and breaking under my insistence, as I
crunch the tail in my grip and start raping its cloaca while it writhes, terrified and helpless in the hands
of the greatest predator of all....
"A roar coming from behind me caught my attention: a 747 jumbo jet full of refugees had taken off from the
airport and was gaining altitude, already about 12 miles away from me. 32 tons of thrust, capable of making
565 mph at 35000 feet. I could chase it, leaping higher and higher, making them panic and sweat ... but you
know what I enjoy even more than crushing cops against my cock, boy?"
I nodded but didn't take my teeth off his pec-udder. Instead, I tugged against it, straining my neck, traps
and back while he flexed his pec into a huge mound that stretched my body out until I spasmed under its stress
and vertebrae popped up and down the line. "That's right, boy. A good tug of war."
"I empty my lungs by blowing a dust-storm out over the suburbs, emptying the lake in a wall of water that went
sweeping twenty feet over the manicured tract homes. I turned back toward the fleeing jet: and sucked."
I sucked in sympathy as I rode his swelling chest. "A huge wind immediately began as my lungs drew more and
more air into them, harder and faster and stronger until I saw the wings of the jet wobble. I was still at
half capacity and kept drawing more air in, including the acrid contrail of the jet. They'd pay for that soon
enough. But for now, I wanted to toy with them.
"I kept inhaling, and the engines sputtered and strained trying to escape me. It's speed got slower and
slower against my draw, and since it was a dream, I could see the pilots freaking out, pushing buttons
and flipping switches and trying anything as they saw themselves grinding to a halt, dropping in altitude.
Turbos laboring, dials spinning, gauges sinking.... The wind rushing over the fuselage made it quiver and
jerk and for a moment I actually held it in place: and then I spread my arms wide and sucked HARD, jerking
the jet backwards through the air. I could see the passengers tumble and scream as this giant teen overcame
their last, most powerful escape vehicle.
"I turned my head and quickly blew out. The sea wasn't far away and that quick blast drove the water back
off the edge of the continental shelf, exposing the deep gulf and forming a tsunami 60 feet high, a huge
hump of water speeding at well over 100 mph toward Asia. Then I snapped my head back just as the stalling
jet refired its engines at the beginning of its plunge to earth. I breathed in again, slowly but hard enough
to arrest its fall and hold it in the air like a tractor beam. The engines caught and the pilots struggled
against my wind shear to turn the jet in some way to escape. But I wouldn't let it, and began drawing it
backward again, backward through the air. All the controls were powerless to overcome me. It's only five
miles away, twisting in the air. One engine caught fire but my wind whipped it so hard it blew out. The
jet was flying full on backward, a mere two miles off now, its wings rattling and people having heart attacks
and strokes as their minds blew out along with the jet's massive turbos. The desperate pilots manage to
stabilize the craft just as I reach capacity and I smile as they think they have a hope in hell.
"At 200 feet tall, they're still far above me, about 5,000 feet or so. But I decide to let them go a second.
I'm getting a little light-headed. They gain some altitude, get their speed back up ... but they don't see me
COMING!" His body tenses and jerks, the surging muscle beneath and around me forcing my aching cock to vomit
what thin, milky semen I've been able to churn up in the last fee minutes. "I LEAP after them, these teen legs
powering me at twice their maximum speed, the ground where I took off cratering in, drawing the lake-water back
down into it. You know, BOY, I could catch a 747 right now and pull it out of the sky if I wanted to. Imagine
me 200 feet tall! Better believe they don't have rear-view mirrors to see that!
"But they do have radar, and they see ME, a jumbo-jet sized muscle GOD, racing up off the earth straight at
them. The pilot has a heart attack, right there, and the navigator drops down to give him CPR. Mile after
mile I close the gap, effortlessly shattering the hold of gravity on these 14 tons of muscle. I go sailing
past the windows, the passengers getting a full of my speed, my muscles rippling, my fuckin' GOD POWER, and
I keep going, past the plane. The sonic boom I create rattles and terrorizes them. They marvel, they wonder,
they gape and drool in shock ... until I whip around, swing out this arm, dig my fingers into the top of the
fuselage, and drag the jet at MY super-sonic speed higher and higher into the sky.
"The oxygen masks drop and luggage sails through the air as the plane's wings blast off the carriage, blowing
into pieces because I'm going too fuckin' much for them to deal with. The plane's only slightly longer than
I am but I pack so much more power I control it without breaking a sweat. I begin to arc down toward the earth,
heading for some mountainous region. The earth juts its jagged granite backbone up at me. I shatter it."
"The impact of this teenager hitting the top of those peaks is like a meteor from space. Rock becomes
superheated powder, blasting into the stratosphere. Forests are flattened for miles around like toothpicks.
A quake jolt races out into the continent as I continue to penetrate the earth's crust, driving a two-mile-high
mountain peak down into its own belly. The earth finally absorbs my impact when the blast hole is a mile deep
and five miles wide, after my body has forced it to vomit untold tons of pulverized granite into the sky. I
haven't suffered a scratch, and my huge body has protected the 747 from the explosion as well.
"But I have no audience. I want people to see what I'm about to do. I leap again, hurtling out of this
crater, past of the debris cloud (I'm faster than it is), right back to the city that thought its nightmare
was over. The dazed citizens see me, getting bigger, getting BIGGER, my rudder-cock before me, holding a
wingless, dented and battered 747 in one fuckin' hand. This time I take a lower arc, landing at a trot, and
my running to a slow stop batters the earth and brings down the final skyscrapers already structurally compromised
by my mere presence. I walk over to the airport, its runways hopelessly cracked, flames gutting the terminals,
and in the big field, I hold the 747 out from my body.
"People gathered at the airport's open spaces have set up a tent city, and they gawk at seeing a teen hold up a
plane only slightly bigger than he is. They scream when they see the panicked faces of the passengers pounding
on the window. They stop screaming then they see my megacock twitch. It's almost as fat as the plane is wide.
With my free hand I peel off the nose cone and bring the plane in front of me.
"The people inside fall silent. They can't see me yet, but they can smell me oozing precum so strong they
get lightheaded from it, aroused, hard despite their heterosexuality, dykes along with the other women ovulating
and dripping twat juice. The queer men practically die on the spot and the straight guys tear at their clothes
in unrestrainable lust for me. But then, that smell gets stronger, closer ... they weep at their conflicted
emotions, something in their brains screaming "RUN RUN RUN" but their groins and mouths aching to drink my holy
nectar.
"Suddenly they hear crunching, the squeal of aluminum struts warping, the splintering of wood, and suddenly
I burst through the forward bulkhead of the first class cabin and the smell overwhelms their senses. The
mere sight of this giant teen cock causes cardiac arrest. It slides farther in, crushing seats and drink
carts, smashing the galleys and lavatories flat against the sides of the plane. Half the people stumble back,
deeper into the cabin, but the weakest ones rush forward, slamming their bodies against my glans like moths
against a bug-light. The impact jolts and jars them and they get stuck in my ooze. It's so sticky they can't
move their limbs, they get dragged with under the shaft, crushed screaming with pain, terror and ecstatic
fulfillment all jumbled together.
"My jet-fucking cock slides deeper, my hips thrusting its full length in, people caught like insects around
it, smashed and broken, the precum so thick that it peels skin away and disjoints limbs, rips tendons and twists
spines around on their axes. But I'm only a sixth of the way in, so I grab the jet with both hands and start
grinding it into my hips. The pilots as are the first to see my huge cliff-abs towering above them as jet crumples
up against my body. The windshields shatter, the electronics spark and blow, and twisted metal spears them, traps
their arms in folding aluminum. I crunch more of the jet into my body and the pilots shriek as they're crushed
between the debris and my rock-hard lower abs.
"Pieces of the jet fall to the ground and my balls really start swinging, banging up against the underbody
with a loud bonging. My cock probes deeper, people torn between crushing each other backwards and hurling
themselves into the sticky wad issuing from my piss-slit. Seats continue to be steam-rolled under my cock,
luggage is smashed in its compartments, and my fingers keep grating the jet against my abs, sawing it off in
huge crumpled chunks.
"Now a third of the way in, I'm finally starting to get a good buzz going. Enough bodies have started greasing
my cock with their blood, smeared fat and pulped flesh that it really feels good. Spurts of come start leaking
out, flooding over the people, clogging their eyes, mouths and ears. They panic, suffocating, blinded by the
stinging salty essence of true Manhood, stumbling around and trampling on each other only to find all space
suddenly replaced by solid steel: the steel of my cockmuscle crushing them up, down and into the walls.
"I'm still only half way in and some of the passengers have opened the doors, only to fall back at the sight of
the hundred foot drop, my towering body, and these thighs thicker than blue whales supporting it all, flexing and
driving my fuckrod deeper into their flimsy aircraft. My fingers reach around, my lats casting shadows, my pecs
denting the top of the plane, and I close the doors and crush them inward, tight. They'll never get out, though
they pound at the glass.
"Blood jets against the windows and the people crawl over the seats, salivating and driven to frenzy by the
musk of my cum-machine. My balls continue to batter the underside of the plane, smashing the skin in. My
bucking hips writhe and twist, and the constant motion tumbles the people around like marbles. I'm getting
deeper, fucking deeper into the jet, driving harder and faster, the friction building up heat that melts the
plastic components and starts fires. Short bursts of cum blast people into bulkheads, the force cracking ribs
and skulls, the slime sealing them in place. They hang there, in agony with brains leaking out of skull cracks
and limbs twisted awry until my deathrod comes to slam into them, break them open like piņatas and smear their
greasy candy-guts as lube for my deFUCTion of the jumbo jet.
"The feeling is indescribable, grinding a jet to junk against your own body, fucking it deeper and harder,
feeling its structure crack under strength you haven't even begun to exert, fold around your awesome
cockpower ... but the terror of the people clawing their way into cargo holds, through the ceiling up into the
fuselage, only to see my fingers pierce the skin and drag the jet inexorably toward its death ... it's the sweetest
thing. They're wedging themselves up into the tail, somehow hoping I might give up: but I won't give up. Ever.
"Three people who managed to get into a wheel well plummet a hundred feet when my groin gnaws off that section.
I step on the wheel, feeling it pop under my weight, making sure the people are squished against my skin. My
fingers hit hiders and crush them against struts, smear them, pop them like zits, all the while my cock chases them.
They stampede each other and plead, cramming themselves into the back of the plane while my scent grows still
stronger, commanding, overpowering their nervous systems, forcing them to orgasm even as the man-missile slams
against them, shattering bones, snarling them in viscous cocksnot, hurling them back into the crowd in a tangle
of come. Their own bodies tremor and jerk, their genitals responding to the coming of God with the only worship
they know: complete self-emptying. They die coming. Testicles pull up hard into men's' bodies, eggs practically
explode inside ovaries, blood seeps down legs and bleeds through pants as people jack themselves raw with broken
hands and arms in helpless abandon as their last acts on earth. They fling their bodies cock-first against mine
and drown in my hot fuckjelly.
"My dickhead slams out of the back of the airplane as my fingers grab the tail section and grind it around the shaft
like a rag. Come drops laced with snapped bodies splat into the camp city. The twisting metal scrapes and jabs but
cannot pierce my penile hide. I squeeze my meat so hard a sperm whale would explode ... and my head reels as I feel
the orgasm coming ... coming ... coming.... EXCEPT I SUCK IT BACK IN! My balls burst into agony but I CLAMP down,
refusing to ejaculate, drawing the semen back into my loins even as the orgasm bursts like a supernova in my brain
and almost knocks me off my feet. I stumble around the airport, driving pits into the earth with my stamping feet,
send out quakes that toss dead trucks through the city rubble. With huge heaving breaths I control my body, my
raging heart and my venting lungs, despite sweat bubbling out all over my body in an oily sheen that only highlights
my magnificent musculature in the sun.
"By the time my head clears, I am again complete master of my body ... and my cock has so hardened by the experience
that things simply ricochet off it with a harsh pinging. Explosions go off around me and I look down: it's not another
orgasm, the military has finally come to call. Just the reward I need to give my cock for its utter submission to my
will. As if it had a choice!"
The only way I've been able to pay attention to Jason's words during the sensory-overstimulation of being suspended
on his aching cock while tethered to his leathery teat and feeling his abs slap up and bruise my body as he talked
was through sheer force of will, forged in the discipline of His service. I knew he expected me to be able to recite
word for word everything he said regardless of other "distractions" (like getting fucked while his biceps and pecs
popped and flexed all around me like fireworks). Being Jason's devoted acolyte and disciple tested every limit of
my mortality, every waking and sleeping moment of every day. And I continue to marvel at how His limitless strength
keeps stretching those boundaries farther and wider than I ever thought humanly possible....
"So these tanks that are firing at my cock are almost as high as the top of my arch, and almost as long as my cock.
Yet the firepower they pack can't even make my ramrod sway or quiver as ordnance smashes agaisnt it. Flaming shrapnel
simply flies back into the infantry. The point-blank pounding of the 120 mm shells against the tenderest portions of
my manshaft are like the tremors of your ass muscles and abs constricting around it right now: a gentle constant massage.
The kisses of angels.
"I reach down and put my hands over two of the M1A1 tanks and feel the hydraulic turrets try to spin against my palms.
I could crack them in my fists like pecans but instead I merely pick them up, 69 tons each, and set them on top of a
third. That's nearly ten times my own weight I've lifted, and it barely makes me sweat. 'Course you know I can lift
a helluva lot more than that, even now.
"Machine gun fire tickles me all over and I use my shins to balance the tanks. I reach down and pick up two more
that are pulling away, their 1500 horses no more than a roach's rush against my fingers. I let the treads grind
into the dirt awhile before I set these on top of the others, and those 345 tons of metal sink into the hard-packed
soil. The pile, full of panicking soldiers trying to fire even as creaking metal-stress nearly deafens them, is
about the height of my knee.
"A number of Marines have been deployed with mortars much too close to me for their own good. They've set up behind
some shattered walls. Since I shattered those walls just by stomping on the ground, how much protection did they
think the ruins would offer? I reached down at them, swift, bullets snapping off my skin like gnats, and grab seven
of them in my fist. I raise them up, slowly, along the line of the tanks, so they can see my hugely engorged virility
approaching them like the sky itself falling.
"I bring them up along the length of my belly, letting them marvel at how perfect my physique is compared to their
own, even accounting for scale, how symmetrical and full and hard each muscle is, how obedient to my every whim. I
flex each ab individually as they pass. Their struggles against my fingers are comical but I'm careful not to even
bruise them. They stop a minute beneath the shadow of my pecs, then slide up between them. I flex my pecs hard
against each other, against my fist: my fist the only thing protecting them from certain pulping. My pecs practically
surround my own fist, terrifying them with solidity and strength beyond their feeble imaginations. Finally I hold them
up to my handsome face, and stare them all in the eye.
"It's a true joy to feel and watch them struggle, even as my forearm barely registers their motions. I gaze
lazily into their faces, my contempt for them surpassing their bravest contempt for me. Then I hold them out
to my side, letting them glimpse along the way the immensity of the bicep holding them at its mercy. They wonder:
will he drop us? Smash us against the ground? Toss us into space until we boil and explode? Hurl us so fast out
over the land or sea that we die from wind-shear miles before we crash into the surface? I let them struggle even
as I hear jets nearing the area, preparing to immolate their own men in a vain attempt to liquidate a threat they
cannot understand.
"I lift one leg up and place it on top of the tank pile, still balanced against my other leg. With my asscheeks
parted, I move my fist back there, letting the Marines take in the smell, the striated lunar surface of each glute,
the gaping ring of muscle widening like a fisheye before them.... And then the lights go out as the smell grows
intolerable and the heat's like an oven around them. I shove all seven up my ass like a living dildoes.
"Well, halfway in. I clamp my sphincters down around them at the upper-arm level, trapping their heads and
shoulders inside my stinkhole, letting their arms flex and struggle to widen my ass-grip. At the same time I
shift my weight, my 14 tons of teen muscle against the amassed 345 tons of steel, and flex my megaquad. The
muscle rushes full of blood, singing, praising me, swelling: and the steel screams, begs, pleads and groans as
much, MUCH more than 14 tons of pressure bear down upon them.
"This is armor that takes any artillery hit without denting, barely scratching even, but one teen leg is crushing
down and the bottom tank shudders. Rivets tested by combined weight of all the tanks fail under my pressure and
burst out, barreling through buildings and personnel like bloody confetti. The wheels splay and break off as the
armor buckles and warps, the men inside squirming and crying out as the compartment flattens into them, squishing
them with a heavy thump as the structure gives in to MY will.
"At the same time I clench my sphincter precisely tight enough to snap arm bones but no more, and I muscle down
enough fetid gas to keep them alive, if a little high from the methane. The sphincter draws them in like pincers,
stabbing them and sucking a few more inches of their bodies up inside my shit-chute. Flecks of my holy crap coat
their faces and they writhe as they spiral slowly deeper toward my throbbing prostate gland....
"But my calves flex and my toes crumple down into the armor plating of the top tank, making the soldiers shriek and
huddle together, praying to their powerless deities for help that CAN never come. The second tank from the bottom
is now warping seven ways from Sunday, the men tearing their fingernails off trying to pry off the bending plates.
A deep central cave-in pins the legs of one guy and traps another guy at the waist, slowly cutting them in half so
that blood pressure bursts up into their bodies and explodes out the skin. Yet they live and scream and coat the
others in gore. The rest twist like worms in the sun but every space is getting crushed tighter and tighter and
all I'm doing is flexing my fuckin' calf.
"The Marine-plug is panicking with terror, trying to bite their way out of my colon, but their teeth bend out at
the root, break or split open. Being goddam MARINES goddamit, they try to claw their way out with the broken
stumps of their humerus bones, grimacing with pain as the fractures simply split lengthwise as I compact my abs
and clench my glutes. The blood and marrow squirting into colon raises my cock almost straight into the air.
"I grind my foot against the compacting armor, feeling its tangled resistance, and flex glacier-sized quads to
overcome it and fracture the steel into splinters. The middle tank sinks down into the mass, the wreckage of the
other tanks unable to penetrate its hull but my teen nightmare strength forcing the sides out of line, forcing
the bulkheads to bow out, APPLYING THE FORCE NECESSARY to cave the turret down into the cabin and then squeezing
even MORE TEEN POWER down into the tank until the ordnance detonates. But the M1s are so well designed these
explosions do little more that deafen the soldiers, who are too petrified with fear to even notice as they scramble
against the buckling floor as the tank seems to fold in on itself around them, battle armor unable to WITHSTAND
THIS TEEN MUSCLE POWER!"
Jason is SHOUTING so loudly that landslides are tumbling off the mountains around us and my ears are ringing. My
cock continues spitting dry heaves of orgasmic waste as I totally lose control of myself, practically gagging on
the saliva flowing in rivers from my lips around the nipple that his pec is fucking my mouth with, in-out, in-out,
in-out, in-out....
"I'm driving the stack of tanks down into the dust, it tremors and bucks and bolts fly but my leg outmatches
their battle-forged survivability. I'm killing the Army just as I'm killing the Marines sliding deeper into
my ass. There's a moment of resistance as -- what's this? All the Marines have erections! Seven unlucky cocks
are straight up in the air, bracing against the walls of my butthole like the feet of a cat being shoved into a
bathtub. But I'm the one in charge and I keep clawing them up with my amazing sphincter belt, and their cocks
are bent down, bent double, bowing out, snapping and breaking in half or thirds, their howls of agony echoing up
through my ab-twisted guts.
"The fourth tank in the stack is now where the second one started, and they can see through spreading splits
in the flexing armor the blood-jets fountaining out of the unidentifiable lumps of steel that once were three
M1A1 battle tanks. Their engine is still working and the treads grind, trying to squirm them out of the stack,
but my hamstrings alone are enough to wedge them in place and now I hop up onto stack entirely, and PILE-DRIVE
this 200-foot teen monster down into tank-mess. The engine bursts into flames and wheels fly off, the men feel
the composite armor press against them, bending ribs and spines, cracking skulls and knees and feet inside
splitting boots. They try to press up with their weak Army arms but the steel is under MY control and it must
bend and bow and worship MY power by destroying those it was engineered to protect.
"The Semper Fi fuckwad is now trapped at the knees and my glutes and abs and sphincter are all working to shatter
their bones and blend their insides into pulp. Their death-throes start spastic flopping motions as frying nerves
jerk frazzled muscles attached now only to small shards of bone. I clench hard to break their knees against each
other, and ripple the pressure up until their skin splits open and torn pink muscle hemorrhages through their
leather-necks. With one final FHWUPPP! they sink completely up butt, their remains battering spasmodically against
my prostate with a massage that getting fistfucked by Jesus Christ couldn't match.
"Now I'm shoving down into the top tank, stomping with hard bursts, bending it in half beneath my gigantic foot,
each thrust curling more steel into itself, sending the terrorized soldiers into frenzies. They pissed and shit
themselves, sliming around in their own filth as the tank sags around them, denting in and crushing their bones
and organs. Blood runs into pools that drown one guy with his head shoved into a corner while fuckin' armor plate
wilts and crimps in around it. Just as the last dying wretches twitch in my gut and the final breaths inside the
tank are forced out of chests that don't have room to expand, but instead are crunched inward while I grind them out
like a cigarette butt: I blow my cork.
"I grab my cock with both hands to teasingly try to choke the cum back, but my cock now is completely out of
control of He-Man or He-God. It jerks and spews into the air just as the fighter pilots dive in with bullets
and missiles flying. Bullets hit the flying jizz and GET STUCK, flying UP with the cum into to troposphere
and being spread by higher winds farther over the earth, where my hungry sperms will fall like acid rain full
of flesh-eating bacteria on far-away populations. The jets fly past and I aim huge globs of dick-nectar into
the F-14s. They fuckin' explode as cum slams into them at Mach-3 speeds, fireballs knocked off course by my
super-ejaculate. Other jets catch only a spray of the cum and it clogs their engines with thick brine, stalling
them into death-spirals. More jets fly in aiming for my head and eyes but I have more come in my sperm-factories
right now than they could dream of jacking off in a lifetime. My balls spasm and come hits them head-on,
plastering the jets with blinding glue. One by one they fall out of the sky, victims of my cock's missile
OFFENSE shield.
"Some of the jets crash into my pecs and explode on contact. I keep shooting cockjuice into the squadron, stopping
bullets, deflecting torpedoes, shuttering engines and filling my body with absolute power, mind-blowing pleasure.
I'm so ecstatic I bend over the retreating army, part my cheeks and fire the butt-Marines ONE-BY-FUCKING-ONE into
the convoy, splattering men, knocking personnel carriers off the road, mowing down the cowards in their tracks.
"My body still tingles with joy as the waves subside and look around me at the smoldering ruins of a once vibrant
city, utterly razed, and smoking remains of an Marine-Army-Air Force mission that bore no survivors. There's an
ocean not far off ... I bet there's a Navy or two I could defeat before lunch...."
Jason cum courses up into my guts, piling past my duodenum into my stomach and up my throat, into my sinus and
spewing out my nose, mouth and ears. I try to seal my mouth around his nipple to trap as much come inside my as
possible, to consume for its muscle-building protein, but the flow is too strong and salty glop shoves me off away
from his pec with pure hydraulic power. My hands shoot out grab both nipples like antlers of a bull I'm desperately
wrestling, still preferring His pleasure to my own, clamping down with my fists even as the lights go dim and begin
to black out, black out again GODDAMMIT....
The end.
(
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