Gift, The


By ParisPhoto

The individual posing round had the audience on their feet, both for Erik and for Ian. During the compulsories, both giants were called out time and again for comparisons. While Ian seemed to be a bit bigger at the opening, it seemed clear that Erik was holding up better, with an incredible pump. Ian seemed troubled, flexing to the point of cramping.

All the competitors were at the back of the stage, waiting for the results. The lower places produced their share of cheers and boos, but all were waiting for the top two. Would the reigning Mr. Olympia be a flash in the pan, immediately superceded by his young protégé? Would he manage to save his title and set up an exciting rivalry for the coming years?

Thanks to Erik's quick bonus pump from Ian and Andy, the judges had no choice. Erik kept his title. The photographers and journalists and assorted well-wishers kept them all busy for a while, but Andy finally managed to clear a path to Erik's dressing room, promising one and all that Erik would be making a statement the next day about his disappearance and triumphal return. Now they were alone, and Erik gently kissed Andy, thanking him for saving his life, getting him through this ordeal, and making his dream a reality.

Andy: But now you have to deal with Ian. Erik: Yes… Andy: Let's find him. Erik: Yes, I have to take care of him.

Ian was sobbing and trembling in his dressing room. Bobby and Charlie were with him, silently watching. They did not bother to say that Ian would win the next time. They did not bother to say how happy they were that Erik and Andy were alive and well. They just watched the shuddering hulk of defeated muscle. The door to the dressing room opened. Erik filled the doorway, then entered the now tightly-packed room, followed by Andy.

Erik: Ian, I gave you a gift. Ian: Erik, you won, that's great! Erik: Putting on a show for Bobby and Charlie? There's no point. They came back for the results. They've spoken with Andy. They know the truth.

Ian now panicked. He tried to go for the door, but it was blocked by Andy.

Erik: I gave you the gift. You abused it. I must take it away. Ian: No, you can't. It's mine. Look at the boys! Erik: You haven't given them a gift, you have used them, you have abused them, you have abused me, your creator.

Erik signaled the boys. Andy grabbed Ian's arms again from behind, while Bobby and Charlie each took hold of a leg. They lifted the blond musclegod in midair as Mr. Olympia placed himself between the outstretched legs of the helpless giant. Erik tore off Ian's posing trunks and began to stroke his cock.

Erik: I will drink from you one last time, Ian. Ian: I won't come for you, I'll never come for you. Erik: You are already hard. You are struggling. You have been posing all day. Your juice will never again be so sweet. You want to give it to me.

And then Erik went down on Ian, swallowing, sucking, and all the time crying. When he had drunk his fill, it was time to do what must be done. While the boys held Ian in the air, Erik stuffed his mouth with his torn posing trunks. He took Ian's balls in his strong hands and slowly, gently, squeezed. Ian's eyes rolled back in their sockets in pain. His screams were muffled by the gag in his mouth, and soon he passed out from the agony. Methodically Erik crushed the scrotum, and in doing so destroyed his beautiful creation. When he was sure his job was done, he told Bobby and Charlie to take him to a doctor. •

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