TRIALS – Chapter 1
By: JOHN
He wanted it big. I wanted it hard. We both needed it to be big and
hard. It had to be as big and hard as humanly possible or all the
time, energy and effort just wouldn't have been worth all the work.
For him it was a prime motivation. For me it was an unquestioned
necessity.
His entire body, like those others still hoping for their turn
(should they get one), was one amazing mass of muscle. It was the
body of a bodybuilder's bodybuilder. It was a body built to be
challenged and built for the challenge. Why these supreme creatures
chose to participate in helping me fulfill my desires to see their
massive muscles forced to and beyond their limits is something I
never quite understood. Then again, I didn't need to understand their
reasoning. All I wanted was to pleasure myself with the superior
development I deserved to experience.
I didn't even know his name. Somehow it made it easier not to know.
He was `Number 7'. I must admit that a part of me hoped that his
number would turn out to be the one I was seeking. At the first sight
of him walking into the chamber, that was the first thought that
crossed my mind. Of course, it had been the same with the others at
the time. Maybe he would, indeed, be "Lucky 7".
He was by far the most handsome of the men who had come forward in
response to my ad. His curly blond hair was thick and spilled softly
across his brow blowing in silky tufts as he moved into posing
position. His lips were full, wet and rich. His sea-green eyes were
clear and focused with a constant smile in them that matched the one
upon his chiseled face. A look of confidence bespoke his
determination and self-belief.
As I quickly gazed over his body, there was nothing not to like at
what I was looking at. He was the image of the perceived perfect
human specimen destined to spawn and lift the human race to a higher
physical level. Of course, the fact that he was gay probably would
have precluded that possibility except for the sperm donations that
had been required as part of his acceptance here.
He had been training and taking the prescribed dietary supplements
for six full months now. He had also been involved in the needed gene
splicing. This placed him at the prime moment for his desired
development. Past tests had demonstrated that there would be little
to no additional muscle or density gains to be anticipated from this
point on. He had been starved from working out for the last month so
that today's gain would be the sharpest and most explosive. And, he
would certainly need all of the muscle and all of the energy he could
muster.
After a few isometric constrictions, he began his initial flexing
routine so that we could take his measurements. The supplement
program we had developed had certainly paid off for him. It took only
a couple of flexing movements before his entire body was ripped and
hard. I searched my mind for the right word to describe his body and
settled on `luscious'. He had a supple taper between his shoulder
width and waist. The swell of his thighs also made his midsection
appear stunningly narrow. The way he could vacuum the space occupied
by his abdominal muscles to create a nave deep enough to protect any
one of his many bodybuilding title trophies caused a deep stirring in
my own groin.
Above all, there were his arms! Never before had I seen such
development on anyone else and, at the same time, such untapped
promise in a set of biceps as there was in his. For this reason I had
selected them as our point of attention. I always preferred to direct
my challenge at the best and greatest body part of the individual.
This gave me the greatest thrill while it offered him the best chance
for success.
He alternated the flexing of his arms giving himself as much of an
opportunity to witness the beauty of each stunning bicep as he showed
them off to me. The full, long body of the tremendous elongated bicep
meat on one arm shimmered with cabled lines of thick muscle as he
pointed his fingers straight and far away from his torso. As he
twisted his outstretched hand to turn his palm upright, a great
cylinder of tubed muscle formed atop his upper arm extending from his
hilled deltoid to the hollow of his upper elbow joint. The promise of
the reinforcing veining was already present just beneath the tissue-
thin skin.
The wonderful muscle rounded up full and hard as he clenched his fist
and forced his vein-ribbed forearm upright. The tube of muscle
slipped inward at each end forcing the central core to swell into a
rising ball of stiff meat. His thin skin stretched over the rounding
mass gluing itself onto the fibrous surface of the dense muscle and
driving the thick main vein out onto the surface with its ribbons of
tributary feeder veins. Fissures and lined indentations cut across
the spherical surface and the mound separated into an impacted front
and rear lobe. The chiseled muscle shook with solid power as the rear
ball peaked distinctly higher than its front brother. Deep sharp
shadows divided the balled bicep from the trenches between his
deltoid and his forearm.
As much as I enjoyed the existing vision, my anxiety to see him force
his amazing musculature forward to the desired final level drove me
to move on with the necessary recording of his current, delicious
measurements. He flexed his body parts a couple more times as I
secured the tape and began to wrap it around each major muscle group
noting the results in the process.
The weigh-in just prior to his entry into the chamber listed his
starting weight as 260 pounds which was distributed beautifully over
his 5'-9" height. His thighs taped in at 34" around with his flexed
calf muscles a full 20". I enjoyed the sensations of my fingers
circumnavigating his 32" waist and, on my signal he fleshed out the
fullness of his 58" chest and torso. The 17" forearms were splendidly
writhing with solid sinewy meat. Then, I longingly extended the sweat-
wetted tape around the great flexed balls of his bicep and tensed
triceps. We smiled at each other as the printed 23" dimension locked
over the starting end tape.
Removing his ultra-small posers, I played with his heavy cock until,
in just moments, it too was as hot and hard as the rest of his
sensational body. If there was one thing that I would change about
him, it would be to have him circumcised. As much as I enjoyed
forcing his struggling foreskin back from his swelling cock head, I
have always had a preference for cut cocks. The rigid growth of his
tantalizing member swallowed most of the capping cape along its
cylindrical length. The tape licked the slitted opening at the far
end at just shy of the 8 ½" point and recorded the diameter at the
anchored base to be 5 ½" around.
At my direction, he offered his various flexed body parts to me as I
forced a syringe containing the collected and processed stimulating
fluids into the veining within several pulsing muscles. He did not
even wince once as the clear liquid moved into his circulating
system. Within seconds his body began to shiver with the telltale
signaling of the chemicals working their way into every inch of his
hungry muscles. It was always exciting to watch as each individual
muscle quivered electrically in its feeding frenzy, soaking up every
molecule of the enriching fluids.
The shaking stopped and he was ready. He needed to work fast and hard
now. He smiled broadly with his own sense of excited anticipation. He
had heard tales of the promised gains and had worked a long time to
be standing at the front edge of the exhilarating experience. I could
see his muscles fill with anxious readiness as his mind tried to
process the potential experience.
I stepped back as he headed toward the squat rack. Because of the
many large muscle groups involved in the motions, it had proven to be
the best place to start. He pounded out a set with 500 pounds already
loaded on the bar. After 12 sharp, crisp reps, he knew that his
muscles were, indeed, startlingly more powerful than even he could
have previously imagined. He doubled the weight and surged through a
second set. His legs and glutes were already sharpening. His eyes
grew wide with want and desire. The sweeping arc of his quads stayed
higher and higher with each dip. Cords of meat on his legs separated
into distinct cabled springs within the various front and upper leg
muscles and the separations between each muscle grew more and more
defined as their volumes expanded.
By the fourth set, he was joyously pushing a full ton of plated metal
up and down with just the power of his upper legs and severely
striated ass muscles. He finished with an additional 250 pounds and
forced his working muscles to a level of awesome accomplishment.
Ripping off much of the weight, he rolled immediately into a blinding
set of calf raises. Again, the sense of potential power drove his
desires. Filled with new confidence, he repeated the set with 750
pounds on the bar. The swell of his calf muscles became carved with
unbelievable sharpness and angularity. His last set with 1,000 pounds
appeared as easy as the first one and the increasing in the thickness
of his calf muscles matched the increase tin the amount of weight he
used.
Laying face down on a leg curl machine proved a little cumbersome
until he finally got his growing cock forced through the gap that had
been created through previous experience in the bench covering. He
was too preoccupied with the feeling within his hungering muscles to
let himself focus on his lengthening organ. More aware of his new
abilities, he began his leg curls with the same half-ton of weight
with which he had just finished on calf raises. The fifth set at
1,500 pounds forced the swell of his shredded rear leg biceps up into
great hills of solidified muscle commanding almost as much attention
as the astonishing chiseled mountains of his stunning ass muscles.
Forcing his cock back through the now-too-tight hole in the padding,
he rolled over onto his back and locked his hands around the waiting
bar to begin his bench presses. The 500 pound set seemed like child
play for him. The 750 pound set was equally unchallenging. The vision
of his massive pecs mooning into great half-planets of etched meat,
growing higher and wider with each succeeding rep was grossly erotic.
His thick nipples were pushed further and further downward over the
growing arc of pec meat as the depth of the mountained muscle
continued to thicken. Standing beneath him, his face and head was
completely obscured by the huge pilings of striated meat atop his
heaving chest as he forced the last set out with 1,600 pounds.
The bar crashed back onto its holding rack as he immediately shifted
into an endless series of sit-up crunches. As he extended his body to
balance his full weight on the solid formations of his ass meat, he
sucked in his abs with each extension of his body to maximize their
range of motion. His waist grew tighter and harder without showing
any signs of expanding into the overly extended form synonymous with
the taking of excessive amounts of steroids. Each abdominal spread
into a flattened plate of muscle surrounded by a staunchly carved
defining moat into which the sweat of the exhaustive workout poured
freely.
Almost 1,000 sit-ups later, he rose from the bench and locked his
upper legs, with great difficulty, under the lat pull-down support
bar. His back muscles expanded into a huge "v" of meat as he reached
for the dangling bar above and hooked his fingers around it. His
shoulder muscle was already fighting with his traps to occupy the
same space as he began his pull-down reps. By the third set, he was
again shoving a ton of metal around. The sharp "v" was now a huge
inverted "c" of muscle sweeping continuously from its vertical
impacting between the triceps and rear delts to its horizontal
intrusion into the smallness of his lower back. Fingers of tendoned
muscle reached across his flexing lower back erectors pulling his
rear midsection down flatly into the dimpled and inviting crevice
between his pounding ass cheeks. He completed his back growth using
2,250 pounds to force his lats to well over a yard wide and as thick
as his head.
His delts and traps took no time to be forced into lined visions of
anatomical musculature. The shoulder presses and shrugs were almost
painful to watch but provided the desired results as each flexing
delt grew to be as large and handsome as his whole head.
Triceps pushdowns were used by him to begin the enhancement of his
astonishing upper arms. Ribbons of lined meat coiled along and around
each individual muscle-head of his crunched triceps. The depth of the
horseshoe-lined dimple in the center core of each muscle became so
deep that the base became totally lost in the shadow cast over it by
the triple mountings of muscle surrounding them. For the fourth and
final set, he pounded over 1,000 pounds up and down without any sign
of cheating.
When it was time to finish with his great, proud biceps, he selected
preacher curls as the method of assault. It took many adjustments
before he could manage to get enough support from the machine padding
wedged between his colossal triceps and unforgiving pec meat. The
padded horizontal angled plate of the resting arm of the curl machine
seemed almost overwhelmed by the muscle in which it was trapped.
At his request, I helped him hoist the 750 pound barbell into his
grasp. He smiled proudly as he flew through a set of 20 reps with no
signs of effort. He was pleased. The second set was done with 1,000
pounds. The monstrous mass of his biceps thundered into impossibly
huge balls of pure rock as he pulled the massive weight upward and
then slowly lowered it back down. He was clearly enjoying the power
of this exercise and the sight of his own growing biceps in action.
The major vein mounted atop each flexing ball of stupendous
muscularity slithered like a heavy rope between the translucent skin
and the fibrous meat. For the fifth set he used 1,400 pounds of
weight that was a record so far. His handsome face glowed with the
sense and knowledge of his curling accomplishment.
As quickly as he was done with his final set, I moved in to record
the new measurement of each stupendous muscle group. The man who had
been a vision of handsome perfection before he began was now nothing
short of awesomely spectacular. His weight-charged muscles pulsed
visibly beneath his skin. He flexed almost automatically as his
powerfully charged muscles each announced their stunning presence.
His thighs were now 43" around and his calf muscles were fluted
muscle-columns 24" in girth. His waist was still an impenetrable 32"
and vacuumed down to almost 30" as he lifted his arms up from his
sides and forced each plated ab into a concave arch.beneath his rib
cage. Pushing his hands back down onto his hips, he ballooned his
upper torso to its new 66" circumference. My hands encountered
impenetrable layers of rock-dense muscle as they slipped over his
amazing pecs and forced the tape over the endless surface of his
huge, thick lats. Both sets of upper torso muscles shifted erotically
under my touch.
Rolling one arm into his signature biceps pose, I nearly dropped the
tape at the sight of the stupendous new arm muscles. The upper arm
proved to be as solid to the touch as it did to my wanting eyes. I
tried to force the great rounded vein to move over the surface of the
vision of split-balled muscle but the size of his arm had forced his
skin to be stretched so tightly over the phenomenal mound of meat
that it sat rigidly in place. He constricted his triceps to achieve
his maximum measurement as I threw the tape over the top of the
gigantic peak of balled muscle.
At 30", his upper arm was close to half the size of his monstrous
chest and more erotically compelling than any muscle I had seen on
any of the men to date. He partially straightened out his arm and
then brought it back to its fully flexed position. The tape slipped
another half and inch in the process and I almost lost my own load of
aching cum at the feel of the living wonder of his muscle in action
beneath my quivering hands. I let my hands dwell upon the spectacle
of his flexing bicep as I silently whispered a prayer for his
success. As if reading my thoughts, his handsome face winked at me
with its ever-present smile beaming proudly.
Before we could begin the final phase, I needed to do two last
things. First, I had him step back on the scale and recorded his new
345 pound weight. Then came what was always both the hardest thing to
get through and the most enjoyable. Now, more than ever, I needed his
cum.
My eyes and hands drifted from the heated muscle of his bicep to hot
readiness of his engorged cock. The bloated organ had grown into a
magnificent 11" long and 6 ½" circumference weapon of inflexible
maleness. It was not the largest I had seen on others, but it was
certainly nothing to sneeze at now. Hot excitement warmed my groping
hands as I encased about half of the length in the specially
made `rubber' sheathing. An extremely large loop of loose plastic
hung ready at the end to catch the eruption of cum that I expected
him to provide.
As I began stroking his organ with all the power I could muster, I
encouraged him to become involved in the release of his waiting man-
juice. His cock stood straight and powerfully hard at a 45-degree
angle up from the horizontal. He winced with slight painful
discomfort as my first strokings tried to force his cock from its
anchored angle. He seemed more excited then most of his predecessors
and became a very active participant in my milking maneuvers. His
hips rocked and gyrated with wanting passion. Every stupendous muscle
crossed back and forth between solidly flexed and hotly pliable as
they worked with his body to achieve the desired sexual release.
Soon we were both hungrily at work. My hands moved with blurring
speed along his great shaft as his undulating body joined into the
rhythm. His massive balls slapped loudly against his great inner
thighs and my stroking knuckles stirring his juices into launching
position. Then his entire musculature began to quiver with the
uncontrollable sensations of pending orgasm.
His body turned to a vision of striated rock as the first explosion
of cum almost ripped the collecting casing from the shaft of his
beating cock. I tightened my grasp around the pole of his cock shaft
to hold the liner on as he continued to quake through several more
violent ejaculations. He virtually filled the entire well of the
rubber with his hot creamy sauce. As he relaxed into the conclusion
of his release, I dragged my clasping fingers along the length of his
still-hard pole to force the last drops of cum into the waiting
vessel.
I removed the covering from his spent cock carefully and quickly
knotted the sack filled with his precious semen. I noted that, as
with the others, each succeeding man delivered more and more valuable
cum. Again I briefly wondered if this would be the last that I would
need to gather in this fashion.
Now, I was about to discover that answer.
I moved away and placed the cum into the waiting container to ensure
its protection. Then I turned and permitted myself one final overview
of the stupendous creature that now stood in readiness before me. He
was absolutely stunning. Muscle virtually dripped from every inch of
his body. And, for all the splendor of his astonishing musculature,
his upper arms were still, by far, his most amazing features.
He knew where we had to begin. I selected the sharpest and longest of
the Bowie knives available and moved back toward him. For a brief
instant, it seemed that his proud smile disappeared but it returned
with a renewed sense of confidence almost immediately. I gently
rubbed his right arm as he began to flex his staggering bicep against
the side of his chiseled pecs. The amazing muscle resumed its
unmatched image of solidity almost immediately.
Slowly I pushed the tip of the razor sharp blade up against the
straining surface of the back of the upper peak of balled meat. He
flexed harder and harder as I tried to force the steel through the
skin and into the density of the meat. I continued to push and he
closed his fist harder until his fingers began to turn white from a
lack of blood making his muscle move from granite to diamond
hardness. I forced the pointed blade against the sensational muscle.
A thin line of blood from the small puncture of the skin ran over the
surface but the deadly weapon was refused admission into the density
of the meat. Then the metal of the blade began to arc. I pushed
harder. Suddenly, the solid steel of the knife broke in half. He
flexed proudly once more pushing the tip of the severed metal away
from his skin. It rang loudly as it fell to the floor below.
He had passed the first test. His muscle had become so dense as to
repel even the razor sharp danger of the knife from penetrating its
body of meat. Next, I brought back a length of heavy chain. The steel-
hard links clanged loudly as I wrapped them tightly around his
relaxed upper arm twice. It would take a great deal more power in his
muscles to resist its intentions. I brought the first two links that
I could together with the chain secured around his upper arm mass and
slipped a steel padlock between the two of them.
I checked the lock and noticed the pained look on his aesthetic face
as the links dug into his relaxed muscle. At my signal he began to
flex his bicep. The links groaned as they were forced to stretch out
from end to end around his swelling muscles. He continued to force
his forearm upward. The movement slowed as the chain tried to dig its
resistance into the flexing meat of his biceps and triceps. He
grimaced with clear determination as the steel chaining sought to
restrict his muscles from achieving their fully flexed majesty. He
breathed deeply and then refocused on his task. As the steel of the
thick links became glued onto his swelling meat, a slight redness
appeared where metal bit against his hardened flesh. His facial
expression turned into defiant determination as his forearm crept
closer to a right angle with his upper arm. The huge bicep and
triceps pushed back against the metal links forcing them out from the
rock-hard surfaces of his chiseled arm meat. The creaking of the
metal grew louder as he continued his efforts. The great master vein
appeared as hard as his muscle and ready to burst when, finally, one
link shattered. The chain flew from his flexed arm almost catching
him in one eye as it whizzed past his handsome face.
His smile grew as he realized the power and value of his
accomplishment. Two tests had been successfully completed. Only one
more remained. He had survived the test of power and the test of
strength. Now he had to face that of endurance. That, of course,
meant that he had to face off directly against me.
I led us over to the waiting two foot long by 6 inch wide solid steel
beam that sat like a construction horse about four feet above the
floor. At each end the steel had been pounded into a slight concave
dimple sized to fit our elbows. I walked around to the far side as he
placed his right elbow into position with his hand open and ready for
mine.
He wanted my body as much as I wanted his, maybe more. But no one
could have me until they could prove themselves to be my equal. The
smile was now gone from his model-perfect face. He pushed several
curls of flowing blond hair from above his left eye with his free
hand as I positioned myself. He knew the game. Either he defeats me
or I destroyed him. It was about muscle against muscle and man
against man. To have me, he must first conquer me. Failure was not an
option and not acceptable.
We locked hands and I counted to three.
His newly acquired monstrous bicep became an instant vision of
diamond-hard muscle - as did mine. The 30" diameter of his ultra-
dense muscle bicep and 20" of forearm meat filled the left side of my
field of vision. The gargantuan form of my own 34" bicep proudly
consumed the rest of my view. I loved my muscle as much as life
itself and I needed to experience only the best of perfected muscle
to satisfy me. Muscle like mine demanded equal muscle in any
potential partner. It was time for him to prove that he was that
mountain of muscle destined to share my life and work with me.
He pushed his hand and wrist against mine as he sought to gain an
early advantage over my more massive flexing sphere of perfected
bicep meat. I had to admit that he was very good at disguising his
amazement at the sight of my arm fully flexed. As stunning as the
spectacle of his writhing arm muscle was, mine was so staggeringly
superior in scale as to still merit drawing my own awed attention to
it as it worked against his. A finger-thick vein rode atop the
monstrous peak of my bicep. It appeared bluish as it carried spent
blood away from the beating meat just beneath my overly stretched,
translucent skin.
I let his muscle work against my swelling meat as I read the
conviction and determination in his gorgeous face. His lips were full
and red. I wanted to grab the back of his head with my free hand and
paste the kiss they demanded upon their wetted surface. His eyes
became fixed on the dance of my bicep meat as I forced each and every
fiber and cell of muscle into visible presence. I permitted my bicep
to quake with power as he continued to force his arm against mine.
Sweat ran down his brow and into his eyes and covered his high
cheekbones with a glow that made him look even more handsome. His
jugular veins surfaced along the length of his heavily muscled neck
as he increased his driven struggle. I watched the veining and
striations that defined the beauty of his bicep grow increasing
sharply defined. The heat of the blood pulsing through his fighting
meat rose to meet my nostrils and filled me with the delicious musk
of his sweating body aroma.
We had been engaged in the struggle for almost five minutes when his
determined eyes finally peered directly into mine. I inhaled deeply
to swallow the sigh of want for him in my mind. I knew my desires to
have him were trying to take over the struggle going on in my head
and I knew the potential danger of that distraction. I glanced once
more over the great shivering mountain of his bicep and back directly
into his sculpted face before closing my eyes.
The snap of the bones in his forearm and upper arm as I threw his
massive arm down around the steel beam rung in my ears. I could feel
his glorious bicep being separated from its connection with his
splintering shoulder in my clutching hand. It took but a few short
seconds to destroy his months and years of physically stunning work
and accomplishment.
The sound of his pain was too much for me to deal with for long.
Without letting go of his useless arm, I rose and slipped behind his
shivering, gorgeous body. I could feel the muscles of his striated
glutes flexing under the pressure of my hungry cock as it forced its
way across the bundled ridges and valleys of their magnificent forms.
Still groaning in unbearable pain, he lifted one leg to permit the
power of my hard cock to slip between his twitching inner thigh
muscles and under his heavy testicles. Its massive shaft rubbed
across the softness of his dampened sphincter. Wrapping my free hand
behind his neck and head, I caressed his flexing delts and trapezius
as I put an instant end to his agony.
I guess 7 was not as lucky a number as we had both hoped it would be.
I retired to my quarters and beat off to his memory and the feel of
my own monstrously muscled powerful body
(
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