WARNING: THIS STORY INVOLVES GAY SEX AND EXTREME VIOLENCE WITH NO
REDEEMING SOCIAL MERIT. YOU RISK UTTER DEPRAVITY BY READING ANY FURTHER. IF
YOU ARE UNDERAGE OR OFFENDABLE, DON’T READ IT.
Jason Owns Chip
(with apology to Euripides)
By Chip Masterson
My cage isn’t all that big. Jerk took up a good deal of it, and he couldn’t stop shivering after what he’d just
witnessed. His spunk, sweat and urine ran down the concrete floor toward the drain but he’d managed to
get shit on my nest while crouching in the corner with his knees pulled tight to his body. Fucker.
His handsome face had aged about twenty years in the last half hour, and not for the better. Had it occurred
naturally he would have still been the guy getting every woman (and secretly every man) he wanted. But
now the skin hung off his face in weary folds that couldn’t stop jittering as he shook. Even his muscles,
standing out with the tension, had a stringy, stretched-out look. But that could have been an effect of the
light.
I crawled in and the self-locking mechanism caught. I stared at him and he kept looking away, at the walls,
seeing the gray matter still there though he’d scrubbed it all down himself. His raw, red hands and burning
eyes proved it. But he wouldn’t stop staring and shaking like a caged bird.
At first my heart softened toward the frightened male. He’d been King Shit for so long, facing his
imminent mortality must have torn his psyche into strips. How could I, an ordinary mortal, full of feeling
and desire, hurt this trembling creature? Yet He had granted it as my reward. Gift, desire, whim, order,
these are all the same thing. From Him to me, anything is cherished and everything must be accomplished.
Already my gut twisted, my muscles tensed to spontaneously obey His will, pass His test for me, even as
my mind rebelled at the thought, my spirit cried out against the toll it would take on my emotions. I bit my
lip. I must trust that He will heal me, restore me, make me even more perfectly the Boy I am. Jerk looked
at me as if for the first time and his eyes focused.
“What are you looking at?” he snarled.
My heart froze. “I am Jason’s representative and you do not speak to me that way.”
“What are ya gonna do, tell?” he yelled, spit flying. “He’s just gonna come in here and do me anyway. I
heard about that guy in the cage, you know. Everything’s not the big fuckin’ secret he thinks it is. So what
does it matter how I treat a moron runt like you?”
Suddenly the seventh grade came back to me like a sledgehammer between the eyes. The betrayal, the
exposure, the relentless gang that hounded me until I had to walk miles out of my way, different routes
every day, just to get home. Jason hadn’t even been born yet. I started hyperventilating and everything in
my vision tilted about ten degrees and seemed tinged red while a buzzing sounded inside my eardrums.
“Your punishment will be that much worse for this regrettable attitude,” I intoned, my voice dropping a
steely octave. “I don’t need to tell Him about it, He is already aware.”
“I shoulda known he’d have this place bugged. Like he has the whole fuckin’ town.”
I laughed, a hearty boom unlike anything that’s ever shaken my chest. His eyes widened as I spoke, my
voice resonant and deep. “He has no need for your paltry mechanical devices. He has KNOWLEDGE.
Simply by being you are in His grasp. Even while He sleeps reality is slowly bending around the greater
gravity of His mere existence. It cannot escape His pull. And His strength is only growing, drawing the
skeins of creation more tightly around His will every day. Imagine, which you cannot, what he shall
inevitably unleash upon the world while he is awake! Pity you won’t be around to witness His glorious
day. I’ll be seeing to that.”
Jerk’s mounting terror suddenly broke into hysterical cackles. “You? I got seventy-five pounds on you,
‘Boy’” he said mockingly. “I was pumping big iron back when your scrawny arms were pumping your
mini-cock to fantasies – and memories – of me. I don’t care if you have been ‘working out’ for a few
months.” He lunged at me, hand suddenly gripping my throat. “I can and will wipe this fucking cage with
your ass as the last thing I do.”
Electricity jolted through me as if I’d stuck my tongue in a socket, but not from fear of Jerk. Something
rushed up inside me, filling my guts and chest cavity with something that crushed all the air and space into
nothing. Despite his fingers I sucked in lungsful of air; and he grimaced and squeezed harder. “With one
hand, wimp,” he said. But I heard him from far away, and my heart stopped beating entirely … and started
again, harder, slower, more insistent than ever before. “Feel THIS muscle, bitch,” he hissed.
I saw him more clearly and calmly than ever before, and everything around me stood out in its own light.
“Okay,” I responded, only slightly constrained by his fingers, “I will.”
My hand reached up and gripped the iron pipe of his bicep, standing up along his extended arm with the
tension of choking me. My thumb reached under and barely got around the long belly of his triceps. All
my muscles spasmed and sudden strength flooded through them as if born out of nothing. I squeezed …
and his cocky snarl immediately changed to surprise and pain as my first flush of strength crushed into his
arm. My fingers flattened his hard muscle into the bone, my thumb digging under the tricep head and
forcing it away as my palm contracted to keep pressure on his bicep. Quickly he released me and tried to
flex his arm, create mounds of muscle … but it was too late. I kept squeezing and felt the muscle twitch
and bulge and burst open between my fingers. My thumb thrust through the skin and snapped the triceps
tendon attachment from the bone. He shrieked. My thumb wrapped around the humerus and I felt it crack
lengthwise into splinters.
Huge power surged inside me like an incoming tide, like a lion’s roar, and filled me with limitless impulses
to work my will. Feeling a strong man’s arm snap in my single fist, the flesh bruise and muscles explode
under my contracting force, I finally knew what it was to be Strong.
And I liked it.
Panicked amazement filled his face as he tried to pull away from me, but my fingers pressed tighter,
grinding the bone into powder and then squeezing harder to grind the bone dust into the pulsating muscle.
His feet kicked at me but I felt nothing, and each kick, harder than the last, brought a deeper wince until he
suddenly stopped as something snapped inside him. He began to weep. “Puh-puh-puhlease, stop, don’t h-
h-hurt me!”
I smiled sardonically and cocked my head to the side, releasing him. “I hate cramped quarters when I have
a job to do,” I said, chuckling. Crouching with my back against the top of the cage, I grabbed one of his
legs and effortlessly pulled it straight. He protested and I felt his quads strain and tear. I set one foot on his
much larger foot and pressed down to hold him in place, snapping the arch. He howled. Then I started to
slowly stand up.
The quarter-inch interwoven steel wire pressed into my back … or rather, it tried to. I flared my lats and
felt muscles I’d barely known existed distinctly harden. The steel bulged and creaked above my bulging
back and a singing sound filled the air: the sound of steel stretching. Harsh pings as the steel wire snapped,
its tensile strength surrendering to my muscle tension, made Jerk wince anew. The agony clawing at Jerk’s
face as my foot ground his into the cage bottom turned to wonder as the cage sprouted open above me like
some pod-skeleton and I rose to my full height and glared down at him over heaving, dancing pecs.
His cock had hardened and lay long against his quivering belly and at my glance started shooting urine
straight up into his face. Still he couldn’t close his eyes against the stinging rain so long as my frowning
narrowed gaze fell upon him. I reached down and peeled the cage away from him, my dark sneer hungry
for his fear. It tasted like bitter come on my tongue.
All my senses sharpened like blades and I could hear the muscles cower in his body, twanging with fear. I
felt his heart racing, pounding the air between us. I could hear the blood screaming through his body,
struggling to find any possible way to fuel his escape, to save the doomed organism. I could smell plans
boiling in his brain, each one ditched in favor of the next. I could see every idiotic lie he would tell before
he could even form the words. I bristled my muscles, flexing pecs and biceps, pumping them right in his
face until dark tiger stripes appeared over the peaks as my skin stretched to contain them. I nodded and
smiled savagely as he witnessed veins scrambling over the surface of my rigid arms, getting swallowed in
the caverns of my delts. I pointed, and made him look. His mouth gaped in silent awe, unable to make
sense of how I could be swelling with the influx of Godpower. I crushed my thickened pecs together and
he whimpered, a high keening sound that brought spit drooling out of his mouth. I wagged my head and
put my hands on either side of his.
His face scrunched up and he tried to beg but I crammed my fingers into his jaw and pulled the ends of it
OUT. His mandible bent as his eyes widened and then it made a sickening crack at his chin as the joints
popped. I was careful not to break skin so the blood blistered beneath the surface and his horrified
ululations gurgled up out of his throat. I pressed the plates of his skull together, hearing the edges grind
until they fractured, sending brain-quakes through his skull. A little blood leaked out of his ears and his
sobs tangled with attempts to breath through the blinding pain. I could feel his pain like current jazzing my
fingers, filling them with desire. I restrained them and stopped his noisehole with my cock.
He gagged as it lengthened down his windpipe but my hands pressed his nose into my close-cropped pubes.
I could feel the cockskin stretch as it engorged with blood beyond any previous capacity. My cockveins
throbbed against his throat, warring with his racing pulse. I pulled out fast so he could breath and my deep
voice rumbled past his ears and shook into his very bones: “Ye who trade in lies shall bow naked before
the face of God.”
I pulled him onto his knees and shoved my still-growing loinsnake into his gullet again and loved the way
his body bucked and gagged. I drank in the tingling of pain as his broken jaw was forced wider to contain
my girth. One hand secured his head, fingers stressing his fractured skull bones, and the other walked like
a spider down his back, his muscles shrinking away from it. Coming to the base of his tailbone I sank my
nails beneath the skin and felt/smelled/tasted the screeching panic muffled inside him by my meat. My
fingers worked the skin loose, tearing it in a line around his hips, and pulling it away from his flesh. His
body continued to wrench away from me but my hand’s pressure on his head held him in place with bolts
of agony. I peeled the skin up in big bubbles, working relentlessly deeper. The skin folded as it tore loose,
and occasionally small island strips would stay adhered to his body as the rest of his hide ripped apart
around them. His moans grew softer as his face grew bluer, so I pulled out long enough for him to gobble
air, but plugged him back up with an even bigger mushroom head before he could waste that air with
screaming.
The pleasure swarming over my body up out of my cock caused dizzying pauses in my deconstruction of
Jerk, but my concentration snapped back as if slapped by a greater force and I continued pulling and
stretching his skin until it had torn loose all the way around his torso. By now it hung loose for six inches
around him and I began rolling it like a sweat-stained undershirt up over his body, using its own increasing
thickness as the tool to unmoor it from his convulsing muscles.
There wasn’t a lot of fat there, testament to the expensive liposculpture he’d indulged in mid-winter, now
regretted as his pain quadrupled with every shredding inch. His throat went slack around my rigor-
mortified python. I pulled out and slapped him with it until he awoke and gulped air. Then I stared into his
eyes as I impaled him again, deeper than before, tears of shame and defeat spilling out of his face.
My deft fingers had rolled him up to the bottom of his pecs and I began to work under the skin again,
flaying it loose from around his armpits and digging deep between his muscles just to cause further panic
and terror. He shook uncontrollably as the suffering scrambled his mind in a stew of unbelieving. Yet it
was happening, it was happening to him, in payment of every evil deed and lie and manipulation. His hair,
sodden with anxiety sweat, dripped salt onto his bare flesh, burning his exposed musculature as sheets of
blood ebbed down his legs.
Most of his strength even to protest lay shattered in his twitching fingers, and my fat manroot speared him
more firmly in place than my hands ever could (his mouth had already torn at the corners to accommodate
it, despite his sagging, broken jaw). With both hands free I worked faster and harder, branding him with
agony as I worked down his arms and separated his pelt from his limbs. Rhythmic groans echoed out of an
eight-back more vivid than he’d had as a varsity athlete.
I pulled out again with a wet thwok and he sucked in wheezes of air, regaining enough consciousness to
remember where he was. When his eyes focused on the terrible giant hanging below my abs, too heavy to
lift itself, he sucked in air for a terror-cry that never came out as my prime rib skewered him, caused
ruptures along the entire length of his esophagus.
As I rolled the skin up off his arms, I made sure to maintain its integrity around the pulverized bicep laced
with bone fragments, and finally pulled it free of his fingers, wiggling it and working it and tasting the pain
that radioed out of them and caused parts of his overloaded nervous system to collapse. As I heard the
buzzing static of his shorting circuitry, I knew time was short. Digging around in his neck caused even my
stomach to turn as the veins and arteries and muscles knotted around them, but soon I was shucking his
head, wadding up his scalp and wrapping his entire upper torso’s epidermis (minus those few bits that still
hung on) around the base of my plunging cock like some grotesque body-condom.
Juice leaked out of my root and I pressed down on the skin around my cockbase to flood his belly with my
seed. The cramping of his body going into systemic shock further excited me and massaged more coming
spurts of pure ecstacy. Still spurting arcing loads of gism, I pulled out and with a flourish ripped off his
lips, freeing his skin entirely from what remained of him. His permanently-opened mouth drew wet
draughts of air but no strength to shriek existed, and only whispering gurgles came out as his lungs moved
freely in his freshly-skinned body.
His eyes rolled up into their lidless sockets and shot back and forth as scalp-blood sank into them. Silent
sobs racked his body as he wavered in the air, instinctively trying not to fall but unable to find a way out of
this prison of torture. Seeing him rendered so helpless before my might, savoring the effortless way my
strength destroyed him, I started coming anew, spattering his wound-body with more salty gobs that made
it twitch and writhe. He fell back onto my nest, the torn ends of the cage jabbing into his muscles. He half-
lay, half-hung there, panting and praying to whatever god he imagined could possibly exist to rescue him
from of the fangs of reality piercing his being from every side.
As I sheeted his red, shuddering body with a new come-skin, fireworks exploded in my entire musculature
and euphoric joy filled my head with expansive universal power that made me dance and flex and bellow
over and over and over:
“MASTER! IT IS FINISHED! THY WILL BE DONE!”
To be continued.
Chipmasterson@yahoo.com
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