Down and down went the elevator, he could never remember how deep,
exactly. A freudian block of some kind, maybe? Wanna stay sane? Then donÕt
think too much, compadre. You could feel the heat receding while descending
down the mineshaft, the well getting somehow cooler and damper, and then, in
an unsettling way, getting warm again. The magnetically levitating elevator
plunged straight into hell, as temperature neared the unbearable. And then it
stopped almost instantaneously, the sudden augmented gravity making the men,
even these ultra-developed, specifically mutated specimens grunt in unison,
their kneecaps and exploding quads absorbing the multiplied weight. The
metallic reinforced doors slid screeching open, and the stench of sulfur, ozone
and sweat saturated the air. They moved silently into the scarcely lit cave
towards their respective shafts without even speaking, the first drops of sweat
already soaking their shirts and pants. Here we are, near the core. Some
workplace.
You must be born into this job, they say. No way you could survive the
sheer intensity of the mine work, the onslaught on the muscles and the back, the
loudness, the unbreathable air, the solitude, and of course the blackness, the
constant scarcity of light and the consequent nostalgia for a day in the sun
without being accustomed to it since your birth. Sadly, this being the planet
Mars, a day spent idly bronzing on a beach more than a fantasy was a proven
impossibility.
And the thing is, Ben wasnÕt born into this job. And neither ware the
others. They were made into it. Physically augmented for the job. This was
labor camp M01. M for Mars, 01 for it was the first and, for the moment, only
colony on this planet. Built by the legion of Superheroes, mind you. Not that the
public on earth was ever to know this, of course. A mine, and a prison.
Or maybe a prison and then a mine, as if the drilling and the uranium were
just some afterthought?Ñwell, here I am again, thinkingÉ Ben shrugged and
activated the strange contraption hanging from a specially designed rucksack
attached to his body. You could call it a rucksack, if youÕve ever seen a
nuclear-powered rucksack weighing around 200Kg, that is. In fact, it was more
like a battery. Powering a nuclear drill that could break even through the most
sturdy rocks of the known universe, and of course make short history of
anything less resistant should it come unto its path. Like a hand, or your foot, or
a camp guard, for that matter. ThatÕs why on M01 you could find so many
augmented, sturdy men looking all muscular and pumped up like some
superhuman bodybuilder (or like Thor, to be more precise) limping around
trying to divert your attention from the missing foot flexing their enormous
biceps or stroking their equally inhuman cocksÑsometimes with the left hand,
in want of a right one, pulverized by the powerful yet hardly manageable
jackhammer. And no hope of having limbs replaced with some new biomedical
ones developed on earth, with this being just some faraway jail-house full of
superstrong criminals people either ignored the existence of or wished as far
away as possible, when not dead altogether.
Ben coughed hard, as always at the beginning of a shift, before throat and
lungs got accustomed to the fine uranium-rich dust floating around him as soon
as the drill started to break rocks with its ultrarapid microvibrations. 4 Years
like this. He wiped his eyebrows.
These were tears alright but not for sadness, he repeated to himself
plunging the drill into the rocks again, his triceps exploding, his arms hard and
unmovable, rocks creaking all around. CanÕt be sadness, never. He punched the
rock, chunks flying everywhere, a fissure creaking a couple meters down the
shaft. It has to be rage. Rage can be your friend, here, actually your only friend.
Rage can save you.
On M01 you got acquainted with rage as if it were your next-of-kin, as
soon as you got raped the first night, before the doctors called you in and put
you through the augmentation process. And then after it, when you were
excited, feeling like superman and looking just as muscular and maybe horny as
hell and aggressive and all, well then it was certainly not the end. That was just
the beginning. People got if possible more violent, you could get assaulted
practically every minute especially during work shifts, for no apparent reason
except the thrill of trying out all this strength on someone. Anybody could be a
target, as long as the aggression involved at least 2 or 3 people against one. Ben
snorted. What use is there in being superstrong, if everybody else is it too?
Ben heaved the small cart now full of rocks and adjusted it on the tracks,
then pushed it grunting up the shaft. As soon as he got it moving, its magnetic
propulsion system took command, and it glided silently up and away. He stood
there panting for a couple seconds, the shirt beautifully stretching over his
powerful torso at every breath, revealing the perfectly sculpted lower abs where
they began to get covered by the dark trail of hair coming up from his crotch,
there where the pants absconded the realm of pleasure that was his ample
basket. Ben reached for a flask of water hanging from its belt and drank some of
the dense, mineral-rich water inside. 15 second pause, see if I can make it 20 or
even 30? But then he heard, before even seeing, the small floating camera
coming and zooming in on him. Alright, alright. He showed his finger, of
course, but started the drill again all the same.
He admired his manly hands as they gripped the drill strongly. So strongly
in fact, that even this special metal bore the indentations of his fingers. After all
these years, he was still somehow aroused by the sight of his own arms, his
forearms especially, with all the little powerful muscles dancing around at every
movement of his hand, like little supermen themselves, ready at his orders to
give a hand or to get into a fight, prevail on anything and crush it to dust. He
didnÕt know if it was the same for everybody, but seeing how everyone
couldnÕt help but flex in front of every mirror they might come across, he was
ready to bet it was: power made him horny. He wondered if Superman, or Thor
or Hercules ever felt like this watching themselves, flexing their godlike
muscles. Could he be as strong as them? Certainly not.
In fact, inmates like Ben were strong and hung and physically practically
perfect, they could curl a ton and withstand normally deadly environmental
conditions (not to mention fucking each otherÑmostly without consent of the
fucked onesÑfor hours) but still they were abused, and prisoners all the same.
The M01 had its own way of belittling you, making you feel vulnerable and
unsafe. Not a difficult task on planet without a proper athmosphereÉ And the
guards were augmented too, obviously.
Everybody dreamed of getting back to earth and show ÔthemÕ what a man
really was, but in fact nobody knew anything about any actual inmate returning
to earth to live as a god among mortals. When new inmates came in, invariably
they had never heard anything about the augmentation process. Ben once asked
a guard about it, and before being as usually punished with the high-charge
electrical dissuasor the bastard said inmates were allowed to live a somewhat
normal life in special reserves, like the indians did. Or you can stay with us
indefinitely, if you donÕt like the idea, sucker. FRAZZ!
So as long as they could work, even if physically injured, inmates had a
chance to see the end of their detention period and Ôreturn to earthÕ, whatever
that might really mean. If not, weird, perfectly timed incidents seemed to
happen all of a sudden. Like some emergency door in a not too deep tunnel
opening unexpectedly and sucking a fatally injured or rebellious inmate out into
the scorching heat and airless surface of the planet, were eyes and lungs
exploded outward, the skin got fried by the sun and life left you even before
your superhuman corpse touched earth. That is, Mars.
Oh, well. LetÕs get to work, or this dayÕll never pass. Ben adjusted his
grip on the drill and pushed it further into the rock. He smiled, after all. Can you
think of anything more macho than this? he thought. IsnÕt that the very image
of fucking? To drill into the rock, tearing the damned thing and the whole
fucking red planet in two with the power of a unrelenting drill, driven by the
steady, superhumanly strong grip of his hand, all this inhuman power in himself
unleashing against this hard yet unsuspecting matter which may try to resist but
will finally submit to the swelling of his triceps, the sheer, unstoppable might of
his pecs and quads and calves, his ass contracting, pushing him forward, and
further still, the indestructible rock proving no match for his brawn, or the
power that he unleashes with utter pleasure and abandonment, andÉ Ripp!
Aw, fuck! Long time it didnÕt happen to me, he grinned to himself,
snapping back to reality. He smiled at his proud cock saluting him out of the
pants it just effortlessly ripped apart. They augmented us but nobody has still
invented anything wearable strong enough to contain a superhuman cock once
it decides to get hard.
Trying not to lose control of the dangerous drill in his excited state he
looked around. Good, fucking camera not in sight. He pushed the drill further
into the rock, intensifying the motion and breaking the wall of the tunnel at the
height of his torso, so as to have the lower side of it brushing against his thighs
and crotch. Not that whoever was operating the camera would have had much to
say had he catched him doing this, it being a favorite pastime of every inmate,
as long as it didnÕt stop you from work.
Brushing against the rock Ben got himself harder then it, and then, bending
his knees slightly, rammed his cock inside the protruding part of the wall,
shivers of pleasure traversing every mound of muscle on his godlike form,
grunts of pleasure escaping his lips, the drill steady in his hand, the metal
groaning and bending under his grip. The poor rock wasnÕt anywhere as hard
as him, it really had no chance. And offering little resistance, too. No way this
mineral could prove harder then the asscheeks of any other inmate he had
already the pleasure to force into submission and fuckÉ His cock and thighs
pulverized the rock around them almost as efficiently as the nuclear drill itself.
The harder-then steel shaft hungry for resistance, making its way into the rock
as far as possibleÉ IÕm a fucking god of a man, a fucking unstoppable
mountain of muscle, a fucking fuck machineÉ
He picked up speed, large chunks of rock collapsing all around him, the
drill in his hand going faster then ever, his forehead brushing against the wall
and actually denting it like the rest of his almost indestructible body, his pelvis
getting quicker and quicker, the unmovable rock being crushed and cracked by
a power it had never withstand in all the millennia it lived. Inmates in other
tunnels began to feel the vibrations even while working the drill. Some of them
got aroused too.
Feeling himself close, Ben stopped the drill lest he lose control of it and
launching a last assault against the rock rammed his fingers right INTO the
wall, gnawed at it, crushing chunks of it under his bare teeth and RAMMED his
mighty, superhumanly hard cock into the rock, his 8-pack shredding the shirt
and leaving indentations on the wall, every muscle flexed and engorged with
blood and earth-shattering POWER. His cock exploded, and he bellowed, cum
spraying everywhere, lights flickering around, and small particles of rocks
snowing down in the other tunnels on inmates who smiled for themselves
betting on who it was this time or getting hard themselves, zipper breaking and
pants ripping.
His hand still on the wall idly crushing pieces of rock to dust, his cock
getting slowly soft again, BenÕs first action as soon as his mind cleared enough
for it was to get the drill in function again: the cameras were to return soon, you
could always bet on it. No point in being punished again, maybe frazzed into
unconsciousness with electric charges, or left without food for days, like the last
time. Without much thinking he started to amass all the broken, vanquished
boulders into another cart.
And yet, he didnÕt feel as spent as usual after an orgasm, especially after
one so explosive as this. Strange. Something began to make its way into his
headÉ Wait a minuteÉ Did I just BITE the rock? Since when could anybody DO
that? For the first time, he watched around himself. His heart skipping a beat,
not exactly for fear. Was this all his cum? The small tunnel looked almost like a
riverbed. A riverbed of cum. Since when do I cum so much? Where did this
come from? And why am I getting hard again? He shuffled his feet on the
ground, his working boots sticky with goo. He looked at himself: his hands
seemed somehow bigger, and of a strange, pallid color. And thenÉ WhatÕs
this?! He had practically no shirt at all, it was all in shreds, and his pants ripped
around his bulging quads too. He moved and flexed his thigh, just for the
pleasure of it, marveling at the swiftness of the movements, the elegance of
those brutal masses of fluid power that could in an instant become so much
harder then any rock. He didnÕt feel spent. Quite the contrary, he felt stronger.
No, mightier, sexier even. The explanation revealed itself in all his simplicity: I
grew. The thought made him all hard again. He felt constricted even by his
boots.
But then of course three cameras appeared simultaneously humming and
floating around himÉ He had broken the rhythm of the carts, thus slowing down
the whole chain of work up at the refinement facility. ÒInmate Sherman!
Resume activity immediatly! As soon as your shift ends, report toÉÓ Suddenly
he felt bold. Stronger, really unstoppable. Invulnerable. A part of his mind was
telling him that this was another of the usual delusions, the power-trips that
could overcome new inmates in the first week of experiencing the exhilarating
effects of superstrength, breaking havoc on the walls of the containment facility
(which had no sense at all, being there no way to escape if not onto the red
deadly desert planet out there), attacking guards or paramilitary staff on the
base, believing they could really do anything, and ending always into
submission and humiliation, the more painfully the better.
But another part of him was screaming louder and louder, like if suddenly
breaking free from some kind of confinement, feeding from some invisible and
new source of power, inflating his muscles, making him feel like a real
superman, no, like a GOD, and letting his dick go into overdrive, the mighty,
vein-covered shaft rising again in all its splendor. He moved with a quickness
that surprised even him, grabbing the camera into his hand and immediately
crushing it into dust. ÒInmate Sherman! This will be considered mutiny! Do
you know what kind of punishmentÉ Ó he grabbed and destroyed the other two
cameras, just for the hell of it. Their little metallic body offered no more
resistance then a mosquito to a normal man. Alarms began to reverberate all
around, energy shields sealing the tunnels to prevent inmates to group and
oppose resistance. They were coming. Ben, began feeling suddenly very calm.
Even pleasantly so. He grabbed his belt, which was of a special alloy making it
ultra resistant and easily teared it apart. What was remaining of his pants fell
down, then he teared away the remnants of the shirt, kicked away the boots. He
was nude, he felt alive as never before. He stood there for a second enjoying in
a sort of stupefied way the sheer fact of breaking all rules and not being
terrorized by it, but turned on, instead. He closed his hand around his cock, not
so surprised by now in finding it bigger, stronger than ever. They were coming.
With stunners, firearms, muscles bigger than his. Well, maybe until now bigger
than his. He stood there smiling in the dim light, a living statue of muscles
harder than any marble ever, his dick in one hand. He flexed a biceps and
marveled at the sight of so much power, he licked it with abandonment. They
were coming, they had to be in the elevators already. And yet I couldnÕt care
less. Or maybe I do?
He wasnÕt perhaps the most beautiful man in the whole complex, a blond,
slavic guard or a rugged Brasilian inmate maybe claiming the prize, but he
knew he had a special, unique combination of refined male facial features
(black hair and blue eyes, perfect nose and square jaw), and big powerful
muscles packed onto a body that seemed short until you came actually near him,
when you saw his killer smile grinning down on you, his blue sparkling eyes
focused on you, mostly lethally. Just why the hell was he standing there
stroking his dick in the tunnel thinking about how beautiful he was? Now
hereÕs old Reason again, arguing. Relax. Reason doesnÕt apply to you
anymoreÉ He didnÕt know what sort of power source had overcome him
Ñgiven that one really did in the first placeÑ but it surely made him feel
powerful and calm and cocksure as hell. He felt godly, he couldnÕt find any
other word. He stroked his ample organ once and then took a piece of rock from
the cart in one hand and smashed it against his ultra-cock, grinning at how
fragile the stone felt in his hand compared to his manhood, grinding it against
his skin, slowly pulverizing it. He carefully took in the movements of his
superhumanly strong forearm musclesÉ imagining all the supermen on the
planet fighting each other for the honor of pleasuring him, kneeling
submissively in front of the columns of power that were his legs, licking his
thighs and slowly up until reaching his balls and then the harder-than-steel
shaft, looking up pleadingly like the slaves they were, licking him clean of all
the precum he was abundantly releasing. He abandoned his head backwards
enjoying the fantasy, which he didnÕt really think of as a fantasy, after all, and
only then noticed the strange light flickering from a fissure in the Ðnow to him
very smallÐ tunnel. A particular shade of green. He smiled.
He heard, with an eerie clearness, the elevator doors opening, boots of
running men. At least seven. He ignored the screams and calls of the others
inmates, who where trying to understand what was going on. Whathever IT
was, it was behind the wall he had just fucked. He reared his fist and hit the wall
with all his might.
Which he probably by now underestimated. The blow felt to the others
inmates like a nuclear explosion, happened once when one of the drills
overheated and the battery blew, killing everybody on the floor, as the tunnel
collapsed. Only this one was to obliterate everything in the whole sector and
would be the last thing they would ever hear. The wall in front of Ben got
simply pulverized, tunnels all around his now titanic figure collapsing over
inmates and guards not strong enough to sustain the immense weight, the
elevators shafts crumbling and trapping the cars in their distorted tracks, shock-
waves reverberating to the surface like a strong earthquake, breaking equipment
and causing a fire, making personnel in the facility fall on they very sorry
assesÉ The planet itself was shook, like by a shiver of fear.
A silence of death came upon the whole sector, but Ben couldn't care less.
He opened his eyes, his gaze able to see clearly through the abating dust. He
was bathed in green light. Before him, boiling from the heat coming directly
from the core of the planet, was a huge underground lake. A green boiling,
turbulent, dangerous-looking mass of hot liquid, perhaps originating from
molten rocks. He felt a power surge not even comparable to the augmentation
process, which was instead rather troublesome and painful. He gasped for air,
and stretched every muscle of his body, his hands reaching the ceiling and
simply pushing through, the rocks irrelevant to his strength. What is this stuff?
Oh.. oh god!
He came again, veins covering every part of his body, muscles reshaping in
more superhumanly beautiful way, his cum spraying all over the strange lake.
The orgasm lasting minutes and then beginning anew still. He was growing,
adding muscle to muscle, the feeling of strength and power inside him
becoming almost unbearable, the pleasure supreme. He was standing at an
aperture he created with his blow in the wall of the cave, up over the brim of the
lake, inside this immense and strangely lit hollow space that had till now
escaped every geological survey of the planet. The boiling liquid stretched in
front of him for what seemed like a mile, the river of his white cum mixing with
the color. It had to be very hot, yet he felt a pleasant warm sensation. As yet
another orgasm subsided, he watched at himself, looking at his hands in
astonishment: not only had he grew again, amassing more unstoppable brawn
on his already inhuman figure, but he had also turned a slight green. Must be
some gamma radiation in the fluidÉ IÕm becoming a fucking Hulk!
Well, an intelligent, incredibly strong and probably very mean fucking
Hulk, he thought. Very well. Now what? He felt still hungry for more power.
He looked around, he was aware of having caused the death of all his shift
companions and a series of incidents up on the surface but he couldnÕt be
bothered by the thougth. Instead he felt a stirring in his cock again, a
mischievous smile creeping onto his face. So many superstrong badasses
squashed like bugs because I threw a single punch? How lame is that? How
fucking unthinkably powerful am I now? He stroked his dick into hardness again
(Will I ever have enough?) and sneered at the idea of having ever been a
prisoner. Contained, chained, submitted. He was a god now. Time for this
universe to become his playground.
Big round mounds of muscle were his shoulders, he passed his hands onto
his pecs feeling the enormous, unstoppable mass of brawn. He looked at the
pulsing sphere of contained yet terrifying power that were his biceps, caressed
his thighs, feeling every muscle saluting him, springing to attention, ready to
effortlessly crush any planet that might irritate him into a pulp. Just like those
other fuckers back here, he smiled. Then he stretched, appreciating the pleasure
of having so much deadly power at his complete disposal and saw the lake of
boiling liquid for what it was. His own personal little swimming pool.
With a light push on his feet which made part of the wall of the cave
crumble into dust he plunged elegantly into the scorching hot, boiling mass of
liquid.
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