BODY GUARDS - Chapter 10
By: JOHN
Following Antonio's lead, Mark and the new American M3, George, and
his handler, Patrick, made their way toward the lab area of the villa
complex. The place seemed all but deserted. Antonio moved with
greater speed as they traveled further and further through the
labyrinth of cavernous basement hallways. Mark's initial fears gave
way to the tantalizing vision that the new M4 muscle covering
Antonio's perfectly muscled body offered. The harsh lighting bathed
Antonio with muscle defining contouring etched onto his stunning
frame. Even the `painted on' muscle-shirt and fatigue shorts could
not diminish the vastness of Antonio's muscle.
Finally they arrived in the corridor for which Antonio had been
searching. As the four rounded the last corner, a door suddenly swung
open behind them. In an instant, Patrick lay dead on the floor, his
back snapped in half over the knee of the M3 level Coven guard who
caught them off-guard. George responded with the instincts of a well-
trained soldier by throwing his own 420-pound muscle mass across the
equally proportioned Coven body sending them both back through the
doorway from which the deadly enemy had just emerged.
George called for the Antonio and Mark to get on with their
assignment and to leave this unexpected intruder to him. Antonio
signaled for Mark to stay behind to help George while he scouted
ahead but Mark wouldn't hear of leaving his lover alone. Dust
billowed through the half destroyed door as the solid muscle of
George and his assailant crashed through one of the hallway walls
behind them in their struggle. George was angry at not having been
able to protect his handler and an angry American M3 was not what the
Coven agent wanted to have to face.
The two massively muscled men spilled into one of the armory rooms of
the villa. This one was filled with an array of deadly knives and
swords. The sharp stainless steel of the multitude of precision
blades reflected in the swinging light of the room like cold jewels.
As he sprung to his feet, George got his first good look at his
opponent. The man was young, probably not much more than his early
twenties. His sandy hair was tied back in a ponytail. The face was
that of a gorgeous youth in his prime and each ear lobe sparkled as
the diamond studs secured to each one twinkled in the sharp light.
The muscle smoldering below his glowing, youthful skin seemed almost
too glorious for a face as young and boyishly perfect as his. A
parade of fortifying veining meandered over the outer and upper
flanks of his muscle corded delts and pecs. They turned to rope size
as they drifted over the bouldered peaks of his youthful 28" biceps.
"You won't succeed!" The young man challenged George in perfect
English. "We will overwhelm you and I will take great pride in making
you and your dead partner my first kills! Then my cock will feast on
your ass and the others will know the power of Marion, your
conqueror!"
Either he came from England or had been educated there. In either
event, George understood and accepted the challenge. The young man
stood in a semi-crouched position about ten feet directly in front of
George. Marion's biceps, triceps, traps, delts and pecs became
chiseled lines of rock as he readied himself for the battle. The
veining grew ever more pronounced as he tensed and tightened every
tantalizing muscle. Each pec was as thick as two major city phone
books and promised a power of immense proportions. The position of
his naked torso pushed the plated arcs of his individually inscribed
abs further into shadow until the core of his posing-trunk covered
groin was absorbed in darkness.
George, undaunted, shifted into the same pose, matching the glorious
beauty of the youth muscle for muscle. He cast aside the last
remnants of his shirt that had been all but destroyed when they
crashed through the wall. His 70" upper torso swelled with unbridled
power as his pecs and lats became ripped with insane density.
George's own 32" waist became equally invisible save for the growing
mound of his expanding cock still trapped in his overly tight
fatigues. The beauty of the youthful Marion was hard to resist. But
the memory of what he had just done to Patrick kept creeping back
into George's mind.
Then, with amazing swiftness, two serrated knives with blades as long
as George's raging 11" cock appeared as if from nowhere in the hands
of the captivatingly handsome youth. As the cock-hardened shattered
fabric of his fatigues fell around his ankles, George realized that
Marion may still be young, but he had apparently been well trained.
The striking youth shifted slightly as he tightened his grasp around
the handles of the two wide knives. His traps and delts mountained
into wrappings of highly ridged muscle The fully blossomed muscles of
his thigh-thick forearms rolled under the pronounced network of
cabled veins like great pythons slithering over one another.
Noting the fat, pointing head of George's expansive cock poking out
from beyond the shadow of the mammoth muscle of the American's
precipitous pecs, Marion smiled back at the affect of his painfully
beautiful body on his enemy. He carefully eyed his opponent. The
American was about ten years older and as well muscled as he was.
Marion was particularly entranced by George's impressive lat spread.
Even from the front with his overwhelmingly massive pecs and coiled
triceps blocking most of the view, the winged outer flanks of
George's lats still managed to offer an impressive presence. Several
wrist-thick cords of bundling muscle waved around the tortoise-
shelled surface of George's amazing back meat.
As Marion's eyes consumed the magnificence of the muscle power he
faced, his passion driven young cock stirred awake. The rear triangle
of the tiny shimmering purple thong fabric stretching across his
undulating ass muscles began to be drawn into the vertical cleft
separating the two mountainous cheeks as his own cock continued to
swell. Marion's sense of discomfort grew along with his cock as the
minuscule posers he had been wearing during his interrupted morning
self-admiration routine were pulled away from his staggeringly small
waist.
By now, Antonio and Mark had made it to the same glass wall through
which Wells and Klein had seen Ryan One several days ago. Ryan One
was still in the room secured to the great cum-milking equipment. It
seemed almost impossible that his small body could hold his enormous
30 pound, 26" long by 5" diameter cock so stiffly upward from his
groin. Each testicle was about the size of a large honeydew melon.
The size and state of his manhood equipment meant that he, as it had
with his brothers, was in a state of supreme arousal. During these
periods, he was capable of multiple orgasms each hour yielding up to
a gallon of cum an hour. They had been known to ejaculate as much as
6 gallons in one day.
These periods lasted for about a week and required an astounding
amount of protein and water intake. Ultimately, physical exhaustion
would force him into a period of fitful sleeps and his cock and balls
would shrink to about ¼ their maximum size. It would be several weeks
before Ryan One would be ready to be `milked' again but, during this
period of arousal, he could provide enough raw, deadly cum to feed a
small army of handlers who, in turn, could provide a couple of
hundred muscle-enhancing charges to the various M-level soldiers.
A large clear tube lead from the glass suction cylinder covering Ryan
One's gargantuan cock head. Even from outside the room, Antonio and
Mark could see the hot cum oozing through the tube and into the
waiting vessels inside a metal cooler. The cum would be collected in
them and then quickly frozen and processed into the various M-levels
for handler feeding. Theoretically, no one other than an M6 level
handler could ingest unprocessed Ryan cum. To date there were no
known M6 level handlers identified. M5 handlers were exceptionally
rare and extremely valuable. The only known man with enough DNA
triggers to possibly become an M5 in the American troop was Hong Tu,
but he had been taken or killed by Weir in Bolivia several weeks ago.
Standing near the cooler, completely naked, was Weir himself. There
was a small oriental man with him but it was Weir that caught the
attention of both Antonio and Mark. Both knew the man well: Antonio
as a former member of Weir's Coven and Mark as Weir's former American
handler. But the Weir in the room in front of them now was nowhere
near the man they had known. This man possessed a body as vastly
muscled as the one that now belonged to Antonio. It was immediately
obvious that Weir had taken himself to the M4 level.
Weir and his Asian friend seemed intently focused on shutting down
the complex machinery servicing Ryan One, probably in response to the
invasion attack. They worked at a feverish pace to cap the endless
flow of cum and to set the remote controls to protect the precious
treasure of cum within the vessels in the cooler. A clear plastic
drum stood ready to be connected to the tubing extending from Ryan
One's cock so that his unstoppable ejaculation had a place to deposit
the hot white seminal fluid.
Weir's astounding body flowed with a breathtaking amount of god-like
muscle as he twisted and flexed through the various exercises
involved in the disconnection tasks. The gargantuan scale of each
muscle flashed into fully realized view as he moved and shifted
around the equipment. The numbing battle between his 34" upper arm
muscles and his melon-thick pecs as they rubbed against each other
was displaced by the image of the writhing coils of his triceps as
they were forced to stand out a full head-thickness from the cavity
of their horseshoe center by the truck-tire unfurling of his multiply-
lined lats blanketing his endless upper back.
Both Antonio and Mark soon found themselves sporting equally aroused
cocks as their former commander continued with his muscle sculpting
activity on the other side of the bullet-proof glass separating them.
Their painfully hard erections forced them to discard their lower
clothing and, in the process, Antonio also shed his sweat-soaked
shirt.
In the past two days, Antonio's body had moved from magnificent to
breathlessly stunning with the new 70 pounds of M4 level muscle
pushing his skin to nothing more than an explosively thin coloring
sheathing over his fibrously dense musculature. Ten new inches of
petrified muscle had been added to the vastness of his pecs and upper
back. These most-pronounced pectoral features that had first caught
Mark's attention were now nothing short of world-class muscle-
wonders. The striated belly of each man-tit stood out a solid ten
inches from their deeply crevassed lined impact into the upper
abdominal ribcage. Only the reflecting tip of Antonio's pencil-thick
nipples showed from under the massive cantilever of mooned pec meat
heaving on his hot breast.
The 82" of staggering upper torso meat was further complemented by
the 31" of crystallized muscle clinging to each upper arm. The sheer
scale of his arm mass kept his extraordinary biceps curvaceously full-
bellied and heavily split even when fully extended and relaxed. The
canyon center of Antonio's triceps was deep enough to house a small
Pueblo village.
All of this spectacular meat was carried on a tapering column of
plated abdominal, fingered obliques and lined lower back muscle to
Antonio's tightly packed 31" waistband. His newly reinforced cock
stood powerfully poled straight out from the triangled muscle of his
lower front groin extending forward to the fist-sized cock head 14"
away. Mark knew that Antonio's fully excited cock was as powerfully
structured as it looked with its delightful web of veining making it
appear like a tanned marble sculpture supporting the heavy weight of
the two apple-large testicles.
The swell of Antonio's stratified glutes tied his preposterously
small waist to the 45" columned muscle etched onto his upper legs and
the 28" swell of calf meat welded onto his lower legs. The scale of
the 485 pounds of pure meat sculpted onto Antonio's flawless body was
even more exaggerated by his compact 5'-9" height making every muscle
appear all the more unbelievably bountiful. The overall presence of
his aroused, naked body nearly made Mark forget the danger and
immediacy of their assignment. Mark's own19" of handler-scaled cock
meat was frozen into mounted place as his eyes drifted longingly over
the exposed grandeur of Antonio's readied body.
Antonio's form became a shredded vision of striated splendor as he
tensed every immense muscle for his assault. Stepping back against
the adjacent wall of the corridor, he launched himself as a human
battering ram into the glass and steel wall separating them from
Weir, Ryan One and the Asian. Weir's body spun in readied response to
the sound of the shattering wall crashing apart under the pressure of
Antonio's infinitely more powerful muscle.
Down the hall and in the weaponry room, George held his ground as the
gorgeous young Coven member rushed toward him. The two knives sliced
through the air in the controlled grip of the handsome younger man.
George twisted back pulling his left shoulder and arm away as the
nearby blade sailed a fraction of an inch past the outer edge of his
extended left pec where his arm had been and down toward his oblique-
lined hip. He crunched down on all his left side muscle turning it to
the diamond-hard brilliance for which it had been constructed.
Bringing his striated arm forward, George trapped the deadly blade
between his obliques, elbow and bicep.
A sensation of pain shot through his upper left hip as the leading
edge of the flailing knife blade cut through the surface of his
stiffly muscled side. He could feel its penetration into the outer
fibers and then, as hoped, the density of George's inhuman muscle
forbade further invasion. Marion's hand and forearm were brought to a
jarring halt as rock-hard muscle engulfed the razor end of the knife.
Marion's right arm, shoulder and pec rippled with waves of stupefying
musculature as he tried to force the blade into the forbidding
petrified tissue of his opponent's side.
George twisted his body inward, his brilliantly hard cock scraping
across Marion's lower abs leaving a moist line of clear precum as its
mark as he moved. In the process, the torque applied to the hardened
steel trapped by George's tremendous clasping muscle mass sheared the
blade from the handle leaving Marion holding a useless piece of
gripping metal in his hand. George moved his chiseled arm away from
his side letting the splintered blade fall to the floor at his feet.
A quick glance confirmed that the power of his muscle meat had left
him with only with a small dribble of blood flowing from a
superficial wound.
As George spun his mass back in the direction of the youthful
assailant, he re-tensed his front torso muscles and arms. Bringing
the full mass of both arms in front of his sharpened pecs, he hit the
front side of Marion's unprepared pecs with the power of two cold
steel posts. The handsome face filled with shocked surprise as his
body was ripped from the floor by the impact and sent sailing back
out through the gaping hole in the wall, across the corridor and into
the opposite hallway wall. Plaster and studs became rubble as
Marion's tightening musculature overwhelmed the wall.
Marion landed hard on the floor of the mechanical room. Sparks
erupted from one of the adjacent electric panels nearby. Marion found
himself in the middle of the floor between a web of cast-iron
plumbing piping and the main electric service panels. The second
knife was still in his left hand and, other than some slight pain
from the impact, he seemed to be OK. The young man immediately sprung
to his feet. With a quick glance, he reached over with his free right
hand and took hold of a four-inch diameter black iron pipe.
Marion's arm became stone solid as, with a great growl, he tore a
section of the pipe away. The smell of sewer gas filled the room
along with the back surge of the water in the pipe. Since it was a
storm sewer pipe, there was enough water to drench Marion's
astounding body with water-soaked brilliance and to create a large
ponding of water on the equipment room floor but then the flow
stopped. Armed with the one knife and the section of pipe, Marion met
George's moving mountain-of-muscle as they both stepped back into the
central hallway simultaneously.
"We have come to get Ryan One, Commander." Antonio announced to Weir.
"So, you have joined the enemy!" Weir laughed back noting the
expanded muscularity of his former ally. "Obviously they have given
you the promise of greater muscle. I would have, too, in due time…
but, then again, you have always been somewhat impatient. Now, I
suppose you want Ryan One so that you can have the precious cum you
need to sustain your new-gained body. Well, I hope you won't mind if
I choose not to honor your selfish request."
The two vastly muscled creations eyes each other's enhanced bodies
carefully as the dialogue continued. They taunted one another's
intents as they assessed the powers and potential weaknesses of their
opponent. Mark crossed into the room and move up close to Antonio's
intensely flexed body, his 19" cock pounded with ever hardening
arousal at the sight of his massively muscled naked lover and equally
muscled former leader poised for mortal battle.
"So, you have joined forces with my former concubine." Weir
assailed. "Your new cock looks good on you, Mark. And, it seems to
still like what it sees. Not bad, huh?"
Weir, with taunting arrogance, pushed his body through a quick series
of staggeringly powerful muscle poses while never taking his eyes off
of his two challengers. He smiled with knowing pride as he permitted
them to feast on his 78" chest and pecs. Weir rolled his abs with
stupefying control displaying each pair of shredded plates and then
twisted slightly onto one tightly crafted side bringing out the dense
fingering of his ridged obliques clutching his 32" waist together.
His phenomenal delts rose up like water polished mountain boulders
peaking above the level of his ears as he offered them the
accomplishment of his masterful 34" biceps and triceps.
While there was no doubt that Weir's entire body was dangerously
muscled, the size and chiseled perfection of his arms categorized
them as potential weapons of mass destruction. The spring-coiled
triceps were as wide as a man's waist and as hard as a marble statue.
The multiple peaks of Weir's biceps climbed so high as to tower well
above his snow-capped delts and reached clear up to his clenched
fists. Two great cables of veins danced along the highest peak adding
an additional ½" of height and demonstrating the impossible density
of the meat upon which they rode. Conscious of the effect, Weir let
the joints of his curled fingers stroke the pinnacle mass of each
immense bicep.
"Enjoy the view." Weir smirked to Mark as he moved into a final pose
of crunched readiness. "Because, after I am finished with your
Italian muscle-whore, this muscle will reclaim you as its cock-
feeding servant!"
That was all Antonio needed to hear. His staggering body shifted to
diamond hardness as every striation of every magnificent muscle
crossed into view. He dove for Weir's feet before the arrogant
Commander had had a chance to react. Antonio's rolling pecs and
pointed cock slammed painfully onto the floor as the bulk of his body
slid into Weir's footed anchoring. Weir's shredded 490 pound mass
tumbled forward landing face down on top of Antonio's writhing back
and ass, his face buried in the great intersection of sweaty muscle
between the base of the Italian glutes and rear leg biceps. His semi-
hard cock scraped along the ridges of solid muscles of Antonio's neck.
The momentum of almost 1,000 pounds of solidified muscle slammed both
horizontal forms against the base of Ryan One's cum-filled cooler.
The power of their hardened meat crumpled the side of the coffin-
sized stainless steel box. The shattering of the glass drums inside
could be heard over the groans of the two intertwined masses of
muscle. The two most adjacent steel side panels crashed down on top
of the twisted pile of muscle exposing the contents while the
unhinged top crashed to the floor behind the destroyed unit. Almost
eight gallons of recently collected semi-frozen Ryan-cum spilled out
filling the three-inch deep metal panning at the bottom of the
destroyed cooler with enough semi-liquid cum left to ooze into a
spreading pool on the heated floor.
Recognizing the danger posed by the unfiltered Ryan cum moving toward
his face, Antonio sought to roll away but Weir planted his feet on
either side of the Italian's handsome head making that move
impossible. Using all the vast power within his gargantuan pec meat
and triceps, Antonio brought his hands under his body just each side
of his aroused nipples and forced himself into a muscle-defining
pushup carrying Weir's body up with him. As his arms fought to
lockout straight, the pressure of his biceps and triceps forced the
lined thickness of his god-like pecs back toward the floor.
The spread of the dangerous warming Ryan cum was just a few inches
away before Antonio was finally able to achieve enough upper torso
height for his massive breast meat to clear the floor. Using Antonio
as his hoist, Weir's supported body was in no immediate danger from
the spreading cum but Antonio's action presented the evil Commander
with a unique opportunity. Reaching his astoundingly muscled arms
around the torturous smallness of Antonio's waist, Weir grasped wrist
to hand enveloping the beautiful Italian in a deadly bearhug.
Crystallizing his massive arm meat, Weir began to squeeze.
Precum began to ooze from George's cock head at the sight of the
water polished perfection of Marion's body as the young man emerged
from the mechanical room into the hallway. The wet skin combined with
the pumped muscle to create an image of diamond brilliance with each
stiffly cut facet of muscle perfectly displayed in the harsh corridor
lighting. Marion's body glowed with youthful power and exuberance as
he began to circle his prey. The knife and pipe section seemed
insignificant in comparison to the splendor of the young man's gifted
musculature.
Marion's mind was filled with no such romanticized thoughts. All he
sought was the opportunity to prove his superiority over this equally
well-muscled opponent. He would enjoy letting his masturbated cum
spill onto George's heavily muscled carcass. Marion's cock dripped
it's own anticipatory precum - that of feeling his own great muscles
driving the last ounces of strength and power from George's steely
muscle. As if to demonstrate his commitment to his cause, Marion
pounded one of his massively swelled pecs with the closed fist
grasping the remaining knife. The echo of bone striking rock-hard
meat echoed down the hallway as Marion let out the cry of his battle
charge.
It was George's turn to attack first. He swooped in on the glorious
younger mountain of proud muscle grabbing the chest pounding fist
with one strong hand and the pumped cock post with the other.
Exerting all his considerable strength, George yanked the surprised
blond from his feet and began to spin around carrying the
fantastically youth's body with him using the one arm and the rigid
cock as handles. Marion screamed in agony as the dizzying centrifugal
forces threatened to tear his steely hard cock from its very rooting
into his muscle-plated groin.
After almost two full turns, George let loose of his grips sending
the phenomenal muscle missile flying through the air down the long
wide hallway toward the lab where Weir, Mark and Antonio were also
engaged in their deadly battle. Marion's body tensed as he slammed
chest-down onto the hard floor. He had lost the black iron pipe he
had been holding during the windup and it rolled to a stop against
George's feet. Marion's body continued to twist as it slid along the
rough floor surface until the impact of his head and one shoulder
brought him to an abrupt stop against one side wall about twenty feet
down the hall.
George swooped up the iron stack section and began to charge toward
Marion's sprawled body. The site of the muscular young ass clenched
above the enormity of the rear side of Marion's gargantuan upper legs
and diamond flexed calf muscles was as deliciously tantalizing as the
heavily muscled front of the beautiful youth. The great gluteal
muscles fissured into striated mountains as the various cords of
writhing muscle rolled to honed perfection under the shining wet silk
of skin.
In spite of the breathtaking vision, the American soldier continued
his charge. When he was only a body length away, the stunningly
gorgeous youth rolled over painfully onto his side. Marion's mooned
and chiseled near pec globed into view. Its perfect shape and
stunning power seemed invincible in spite of the sight of the hilt of
the knife blade anchored on to the previously unblemished meaty
surface. Clearly, the young man had landed on his own knife. The
power of the impact had forced the 8" blade neatly into the thickest
section of the muscled breast. George's rushing form came to an
immediate, stunned stop.
Seemingly mindless of the injury, the angry young figure pushed
himself into a sitting position with his back against the corridor
wall. Looking down to the swell of his heaving chest, he reached down
and pulled the full length of the embedded blade out of the
impossibly thick man-tit meat. He was careful to be sure that his
withdrawal was straight and true so as to minimize the damage that
could be done by the razor-sharp serrated edge. The blade came out
streaked with blood from the supremely pumped meat and a flow of
blood immediately started streaking down the ridged landscape of the
injured pec but the handsome face showed no sign of weakness or
surrender.
Marion's triceps locked into coiled springs of mindlessly strong
muscle as he used them to launch his body up from the wall and the
floor directly at his assailant. George was caught by shock and
surprise as the tower of muscle hurled toward him. Leading the way
was a launch of white-hot cum spewing from the beautiful young cock.
The initial gush of steaming cum reached George's tensely flexed pecs
first.
George reacted instinctively from his years of specialized training.
The iron pipe swooped around in the American's hands like a great
baseball bat catching the flying mass of Coven muscle on the side
just above the waistline. Marion's form went sailing back down the
corridor toward the gaping holes of the equipment room and the weapon
room once again. This time the gloriously muscled body landed back in
the equipment room sliding through hard to the back wall on the sheet
of water covering the floor.
A trail of fresh, hot cum marked the path for the steadfast American
to follow. Marion's cock still dripped with the last emissions of his
creamy ejaculation as George approached the gaping hole in the wall.
Marion was determined to fight on and win in spite of the pain and
confusion clouding his mind. The stunningly handsome face worn a
dazed look as George began to wind the pipe high over his head,
moving closer toward the shadowy room. Marion's sprawling body rolled
with the contouring of his richly voluminous muscles seductively
offered to toward his assailant.
Marion knew he needed to act quickly and so he did. But quickly was
not wisely. The lights flickered and blinked all up and down the
hallway and throughout the villa and his massive arm became a
breathtaking image of veined, balled granite as he tore the adjacent
pipe from the floor. Unfortunately, it had not been another water or
sewer pipe this time but, rather, one of the conduit casings leading
to the main electric switchgear. His vast muscle shook and shuttered
with every trembling fiber displayed as the raw electric current
coursed through Marion's wet body.
The lights continued to flicker casting the motions of Marion's death
into a macabre strobe-light show. George reeled back against the far
wall of the corridor as the form of the beautiful young man contorted
through its last seconds of life charged with muscle-defining
convulsions. Then, with Marion's last breath, the room, the hall and
the villa went dark.
Weir's 34" of striated bicep and triceps meat pumped along with his
ridged pecs pressed into Antonio's crisp waistband of equally staunch
muscle with petrified power as the Commander tightened his deadly
grasp. Antonio painfully pulled his legs under him until he was
kneeling on all fours carrying Weir's 490 pounds of clasping muscle
on his back. As Antonio's sublime ass cheeks elongated and stretched
into a muscle layered quarter circle from the small of his pec-
invaded back to the great swell of his curled rear leg biceps, Weir's
face slipped into the widening gap between the volume of the two
great ass muscles.
Weir continued to tighten his hold. He could feel his immensely
flexed biceps begin to overpower the steel cables of Antonio's
obliques and his writhing forearm muscles scraping along the diamond
hard plates of Antonio's lower abs. Antonio crunched down on his abs
forcing them to a level of brilliant hardness as he struggled to
resist the endless strength of Weir's crushing arms and upper torso.
Weir's hot breath tickled the moist opened valley between Antonio's
glutes.
With each reinforced crunch, Weir pushed his deadly strangle hold
fractionally deeper into Antonio's waist. The phenomenally beautiful
Italian's face became lined with growing fear and pain. He knew he
needed to act quickly. With one desperate shove, the endless muscle
of Antonio's voluminous pecs sprung into stratified action along with
the bouldered power of his ass forcing his torso into an upright
posture with his clenched rear leg biceps cemented onto the top of
his columned calf muscles.
Suddenly Weir found himself upside-down in midair held in place only
by his unflinching crushing grasp around Antonio's painfully small
waistband. As Antonio's vast body of muscle rolled upward, Weir found
his face trapped within the closing canyon of the Italian muscle-
statue's sculpted globes of gluteal meat. Acting quickly, he pulled
his embedded face out arcing his head back until the back of his head
became pinned from further movement by the swell of his own ridged
trap muscles. Antonio's ass cheeks continued to rise toward their
fully inflated force, pushing Weir's head further back atop their
forbiddingly hard surface.
As Antonio focused his waning energies on the power within his ass
muscles, Weir was forced to choose between his crushing bearhug hold
and the snapping pressures growing on the base of his neck. With
nothing left to loose, Weir curled his lower legs back shifting the
center of gravity of the two colossal intertwined compilations of
muscle further behind Antonio's kneeling form. With Antonio's
concentration focused on the constriction of his ass and the
resistance needed by his abs, he was unprepared for this third issue.
His amazing body began to roll back out of balance.
With catlike reflexes, Antonio rolled onto his feet and pushed his
body into a standing position carrying all 970 pounds of conjoined
muscle up with him. As astonishing as the power of this act was in
and of itself, it did nothing to help the lack of balance with which
he was struggling. Antonio staggered backward faster and faster as he
sought, to no avail, to achieve a balanced stance. Both bodies
crashed into a lab table that had the misfortune to be in their path.
The top-heavy burden dragged the bodies of the two men over the top
of the table.
They tumbled over. The sound of smashing glass filled the air as the
full weight rolled over the top on Weir's chiseled back. Razored bits
of glass tried to dig into the Commander's back but the density of
his struggling muscle limited the damage to an array of small surface
cuts. But the pain he encountered was real and the mindless twisting
of the two bodies was staggeringly disorienting. Both men continued
to tumble as they crashed down toward the floor on the back of the
table. One of the table legs collapsed under the weight spilling the
table and its contents onto the two forms as they hit the floor.
In the process, Weir lost his grasp around Antonio's waist. The two
great bodies ended up splayed on their backs on the floor next to one
another. Antonio's vaster pecs rose more than a foot higher than
Weir's as his back rode upon the solid mass of Weir's right arm. Both
cocks pointed upward aroused by the power of the battle. The crimson-
hard head of Weir's 14" cock waved proudly as he rolled slightly from
side to side to avoid the discomfort of the shards of glass glued
onto his back.
Antonio rolled off of Weir's arm, onto his front, and back onto all
fours. By the time Antonio was able to dizzily upright himself, Weir
was already behind him with his massive arms already locked under his
own. Weir fought against the massiveness of his own gargantuan biceps
and the stupefying scale of Antonio's extended pecs to capture the
beautiful Italian muscle in a full-nelson hold. Antonio battled back
trying to use the endless strength of his expansive pecs to draw his
own magnificent arm muscle mass down against his hurting sides to
trap the Major's arms between the power of his biceps, lats and outer
pecs.
The two equally engaged bodies danced across the floor and around the
room as they each struggled for a superior hold. Their stone-hard
bodies crashed and smashed into every object in their way turning the
center of the room into a veritable war-zone of destroyed furniture
and equipment. Mark ran over to the secured seated figure of Ryan
One. He unlocked the wheeled seat, grabbed the glass canister into
which the current flow of cum oozed and rolled them to a far corner.
Only now did he realize that the Asian man had taken leave through a
door in the corner of the room. Mark headed for the safety of the
same door and rolled Ryan One from the room.
Mark had acted none-too-soon as the battling muscle-gods crashed into
the table of instruments through the space that Ryan One had
previously occupied. Weir's 34" of diamond hard upper arm muscles
proved to be an even challenge against Antonio's inhumanly muscled
pecs as neither seemed to able to gain an advantage. Unspoken pain
course through both bodies in their deadly struggle. Each explosively
large muscle consuming each superlative body became covered in
polishing sweat and lined with a frenzy of feeding veining.
Weir's beating cock pounded against the base of Antonio's bloated
balls as it forced its way between the power of the Italian's inner
thighs. Antonio's over-stimulated cock dripped in response with
anticipatory precum. But their minds and bodies remained focused on
and driven by battle. Both were becoming exhausted. There was not
much left in the room to be destroyed. Then, as they staggered toward
the remnants of the cum-filled cooler an idea occurred to Antonio.
Instead of fighting Weir's powerful efforts, Antonio curled his torso
forward into a gymnastic tumble carrying the body of the surprised
Major with him. Weir's feet left the floor as his vast muscle mass
rolled over the top of his equally muscled challenger. Antonio let go
as the Major's body cleared his head. Weir continued to tumble
through the air hitting the floor hard with his flexed front torso.
His head smashed against the floor only inches from the cooler base.
Antonio wasted no time as he threw his massively muscled body on top
of the Major's back with one leg anchored to the floor on each side
of the strikingly tight waist. Antonio grabbed the fledgling figure
by the head and hoisted Weir's face up over the cum-filled base of
the destroyed cooler then he pushed the full weight of his massive
body onto the Major's back. Antonio's pecs dug hard into the base of
Weir's thick traps forcing the Commander's face into the warming pool
of Ryan One's cum. Just as quickly, Antonio wrapped his great arms
under the god-like muscle of Weir's upper arms grabbing the frame of
the cooler tightly with each hand.
Antonio's biceps balled and split into marbled spheres of striated
muscle as he used them to lock his clenched torso against the
Commander's struggling back. The huge globed masses of Antonio's
colossal upper pec meat drove the Major's face deep into the sea of
Ryan One cum until his nose and mouth were fully submerged. Weir's
body began to roll like that of a wild bronco with Antonio's prone
figure as its great muscle-rider but Antonio refused to yield his
grip or pressuring pecs to the monstrously muscle horse upon which he
rode.
As panic shifted to desperation, Weir tried to maneuver his signature
34" arms to the floor below so that he could repeat the push-up
escape previously utilized by his assailant but Antonio was wise to
this option. He could feel the great power within each of Weir's
stupendous biceps and triceps against his own as the Major's last
efforts threatened to rip Antonio's hands from their mind-driven hold
of the cooler base. Weir's head began to shake beneath the rocked
walls of Antonio's pecs as the burn of Ryan One's deadly cum was
inhaled into his begging lungs.
The hugely muscled body pinned below Antonio quivered with the last
throws of its struggle as more and more burning cum displaced the
last of the air in its lungs. Antonio held his deadly position until
he was absolutely certain that the last of the life was drowned out
of the Commander's astounding body. After he finally moved away,
Antonio permitted himself the opportunity to masturbate and climax
onto the body of his former leader. As his own cum left its final
mark, Antonio smiled at his own salvation and pitied the Major for
having had so much muscle-beauty and, yet, so much deadly evil.
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