I’d got up fairly late for breakfast, feeling very energized to my surprise. I’d been given a picnic by the staff (containing at least three meals and/or protein shakes), and soon it would be time for the Happy Hour.

I showered the sand off me and found some really nice threads waiting on the bed for me. Thin, loose-fitting (for anyone without these quads) low-cut linen pants, a loose gauze shirt which showed every muscle through it, espadrilles. No underwear, nothing else. Even I looked pretty hot in the mirror, I thought. My big muscles pretty well naked and tantalizingly visible under the gauzy veil of the shirt. I even started to get hard. Shit - that didn’t work in these pants with no underwear! Fuck! Several deep breaths later and a little self-control and I was able to leave the room in search of whatever was to come.

I needn’t have worried. I was only half-way down the staircase when the front door opened and six guys poured in, whooping like end of school. The twins and the Pilot off the ‘plane, and three other hunks: a chunky buzz-cut Marine they called Red, for obvious reasons, a very tall, dark, saturnine tattooed guy, and (gulp) an equally tall young curly headed blonde guy. They all wore great gear, thin, muscle-revealing, colorful, every dick and packet in full evidence through whatever they were wearing. Except for the curls whose shirt was hanging out of the back of his low-slung pants, revealing a perfectly-formed, massive sweep of pecs and a hard eight-pack. If he hadn’t been so tall, I’d have said he was a gymnast - maybe a college wrestler. Whatever, he rang my bell loudly.

I was three steps from the bottom when they stopped their whooping and took me in.

“Hey, guys! This is Bjorn!” said one of my new friends.

More whoops and the thee new guys picked me up bodily, rushed me through the spacious living room, out onto the patio where they threw me, fully dressed (if you can call it dressed) into the pool. So much for nice gear - it was now clinging to me, revealing every striation and every vein of every muscle as well as my rapidly growing equipment.

I needn’t have worried: the others either stripped off or dived in fully clothed to join me. Then they were all on me, clutching at my muscles, grabbing my willing dick, shoving their tongues down my throat and their fingers up my ass; pressing my hands on their own very considerable muscle masses or around their dicks - in fact, telling me what this evening was all going to be about!

So this was America? What had I been missing all my closeted life? (Later I was to realize this was all part of the Master’s grand strategy - to introduce me to a new kind of life - to Get me, in fact! Well, at this moment I was all too happy to be Got.)

Naked horseplay in the pool - sex under water - where could I find this back home? Certainly not in the freezing Finnish fjords! I wondered if the Boss had any idea of all this? Was he closeted too? Was that why he was so eager for me to come? Did he just want another champ from his gym, or did he too have an ulterior motive? These thoughts fled through my mind for a brief moment while everyone else was getting out of what was left of their sodden clothing.

Then a big blonde head came up through the water in front of me and Pilot proceeded to devour Dick. The big tattooed hunk, with paper thin, huge muscles surfaced from my rear and clamped his big hands on to my pecs, squeezing the man-tits between his fingers. Then his stiff rod was demanding entrance. “Come on, you big stud! Don’t you do this at home?” “We certainly don’t!“ said my butt-hole as it squeezed shut in instinctive objection but, as he pushed harder and more insistently (and licked my ear before he bit it), I remembered what I’d taken up there the night before and suddenly, willingly opened up. He was in up to the hilt before I could gasp “Yessss!”. Which I did.

The other four were pairing up around us - rather, in front of us as if to show me everything. I guess they had me painted as some backwooder who knew nothing and needed a floor-show. And I guess they were right. But I was happy to learn fast! My partners were being very slow and very sensual with their sucking and stroking, while the other four were extremely acrobatic in their muscular sex-play - almost like circus guys.

I’d always imagined the American gay scene to be either very macho or very fem - this lot were VERY macho. All perfectly conditioned. Any one of them could have won out in a bodybuilding contest.

They started to change partners and got into some amazing positions, sometimes upside down, sometimes under the water - at one time all four joined to each other by lips, or dicks, or fists, going full tilt and violently into every possible orifice. My dick started to throb with all this and my two studs started to get more and more insistent with their sexual persuasion.

I started to groan under the wonderful pressure. At once there was a change of partners: the blonde head on my dick, threw his legs round my waist and sunk his butt onto the growing snake; the Red buzz-cut marine pulled him backwards so that the marine dick could get into that butt alongside mine. The six foot gymnast blonde, who had the most sultry lips I’d ever seen started to suck on my nips, squeezing the opposite pec. Without further warning Tattoos rammed his dick up my ass and started to man-ram me. The other two, the twin-like guys from the plane, Blue-eyes and Brown-eyes, just stood in front of us so I could see them stroking and fondling each others muscles and dicks as they watched the rest of us. “Fuck him, Tattoo!” and “Give it to him, Brett!” So his name was Brett

I only lost sight of them when Brett, the pec-sucker with the lips started to kiss me, twisting his tongue around mine and sticking it down my throat. Somehow he managed to suck mine down his at the same time. Don’t ask me how.

I felt my balls rising and everything started to get real horny on and around and inside me when a bell rang from the house.

“Shit!“ said someone. “Supper time! Bjorn mustn’t miss his feed!”

So they all peeled off me and started to clamber out of the pool. But Mr Tattoos was not giving up so easily. He seized the opportunity of me not being tied down to anyone else to give me a real good man-fuck. “This man is mine!” he yelled. The others started to cheer us on from the poolside. My “new” dick suddenly decided to appear and rose to the occasion, much to the whooping delight of our audience. It came up out of the water like the Loch Ness monster - Tattoos grabbed it with one hand and pulled me back on to his pecs with the other and started to jerk me off in time to the massive, violently demanding thrusts of his own thick club.

It didn’t take us long. It was difficult to tell the difference between his violent thrusts and the spasms of his erupting dick - except that I could feel my guts filling with a few gallons of his gism while mine jetted out over the water as it obeyed his powerful fisting.

“Now he MUST get his feed!” yelled someone over the applause. Tattoos turned me round and stuck his tongue in my face with a real man-kiss. “More later!” he promised and hissed in my ear “You don’t know what a fuck is till you’ve been fucked by me!” He really seemed to have my number and, Shit, he really turned me on. But so did Brett - and I also wouldn’t have minded giving the snake a chance to get a feel of the Twins’ butt-holes.

Dry clothes hanging in the bath-house. They dressed me in a skintight sleeveless tee, made for someone half my size, and a thong! “That’ll do you just for supper! Everything comes off after that!” said the twins.

Supper was great, not just muscle-diet, but real food! Cold, Norwegian soup, roast turkey and all the trimmings - fruit and ice cream - must be the cheat meal, I thought. And I thought American bodybuilders only ate pizza! The good wine soon had my head feeling pleasantly fuzzy - but not enough to miss anything that was going on.

After dinner, we were all sitting Roman-style on piles of cushions around the room. On one side, at a distance, I could see the Twins both had their eyes on me. Good. (But I also couldn’t avoid the green-eyed gaze of Brett) On the other, Tattoos was glowering at me from under his sexy thick eyebrows. Good, too. As we had all walked into the dining-room from outside I could see that all these guys were really built, handsome, fucking great muscle, but I could also see that none of them were quite as big as me, even though Tattoos had me for a few inches - of height.

I could also tell, through all the chat and laughter and sexual innuendo, that some of them had plans for themselves that night which did not necessarily include me, though they had all been eager to be invited to get a good look at me. Whatever. I could tell that Tattoos seemed not altogether pleased at the attention the Twins were paying me, but hell! there could always be other times, couldn‘t there?

As if to defuse this, blonde Pilot came to sit with me. He lit up a toke, took a puff and passed it to me. This was a signal for the others to do the same. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Tattoos going over to the Twins and lighting up from theirs. Pilot lounged back, his magnificently sleek, catlike muscles looking so darned sexy.

“How’re you getting’ on?”

“Well, thanks. It’s great here - food’s great, workouts going well - tonight’s great - you’re great - you all are!”

“Gee, thanks!” he laughed. “You know this week has been a kind of tuning up for you, before the Master gets at you?”

“Yes, tell me about that. I’m really anxious to meet him. What’s he like?”

“No one like him - and I know he’s anxious to meet you. He seems to regard you as a good find - someone with great potential, I mean.”

“Have you all been trained by him? All had the same treatment?”

“In our time, yes. But we didn’t all want to go the whole nine yards - “

“What about him? Mr. Tattoos? He’s huge.”

“Like a lot of people he stopped short at the last step. So most of us work for him, one way or another - some chose not to. We nearly all compete in shows - he encourages us to do that and helps us a lot too with the diet and all that, but I don’t think I’ll be breaking trust when I say that the demands he makes for the final step are pretty enormous. Not many people have felt able to go through with it. He’s always disappointed of course, but he still looks after us like family.”

“Did you - ?”

“No. I nearly did, but there was someone else in my life at that time who wouldn’t, so I didn’t. You got anyone?”

“No. Strictly solo. I didn’t know I’d be, what do you say, walking out of the cupboard when I got here?”

“Coming out of the closet.”

“Oh. Well. Anyway, we just don’t do things like tonight back where I come from. I’m not saying none of us are gay - but we’d never admit it. I tell you, it’s been a kind of - of - new freedom for me. I’m not sure I can go back now.”

“He’ll probably make you - for a short while anyway - just to consider what the final step might mean to you - or to anyone close to you.”

I thought for a moment of the Boss. No one else came as close. But he wanted me to come here. How much did he know, I wonder?

“Penny?” “What?” “Penny for your thoughts? You looked so far away for a moment: I guess there is someone?”

“Not really. At least, I think he’d - they’d understand. But what is this last step?”

He stood up. “Hey, man - probably said too much already - it’s the weed. But nothing to worry about - you’ll either do it or you won’t - either way you end up bigger! Should have seen me when I got here! Half the size!”

“Don’t believe you! But I‘ve got a feeling you‘re going to be different. It‘ll be interesting to see how it all turns out for you.”

As he laughed the Twins appeared on each side of him and started to drag him back. They turned and pushed him towards the waiting red-headed hunk and sat down on each side of me. They each offered me a toke so I took a puff from each. I thought this would give them some kind of signal. It did.

Blue-eyes slowly, seductively peeled off my too-tight tee while Brown-eyes got his fingers into my thong from behind and wrapped a strong fist round my root as he pulled the slinky satin off my ankles. In answer I undid their short shorts. When Blue-eye’s fell to the floor his thick dick sprang up and almost immediately I sucked it into my mouth: a starving man’s first meal! I wrapped my tongue around it and enjoyed the thick, spongy meat. I gently licked around the big corona like a kid with his first ice-cream cone.

I felt the long questing dick of Brown-eyes slipping up and down my wide back, looking for somewhere to go. For a moment Blue-eyes pulled out of me, filled his mouth with toke-smoke and then let me close my mouth on his to inhale the smoke from around his thick tongue. Brown-eyes slid down and got his legs stretched out on each side of my butt. Blue-eyes took this as a signal to hoist me up from the armpits: Brown-eyes pulled me back with his hands on my pecs and Blue-eyes let go! My 260 pounds forced my ass-hole to accept the whole length of Brown-eyes insistent dick to the root as I fell on it in one crazy, wonderful gasp.

I didn’t ever think I’d come to the States to get fucked for the first time, but here I was, getting fucked again. The weed was really getting to me now - the lights were dimmer, my ears were sharper and I could hear the gentle, horny groans and moans of the other guys in the room, even the slipping and sliding of dicks in and out of mouths and muscle-cunts.

But most of all I was able to enjoy the pure sensuality of two dicks, one down my throat, the other up my backside. I could feel every rim, every vein moving against my sensitive inner tissues. I spaced out - enjoying it too much. Their hands were everywhere on my muscles which responded with grateful flexing. My mouth started to get more insistent round that fat dick that was sliding down my throat.

The twins must have sensed my heightened desire: Blue-eyes fell on to the cushions, pulling me sideways. This gave Brown-eyes a new line of fuck-pole attack on my joy-button from the side. Fuck! He was really doing his stuff on it now! My hands were everywhere on their magnificent torsos, feeling and squeezing those fat, honed, hard slabs of muscle.

And my dick - my dick was thrashing around like a live thing, getting in everyone’s way, as frustrated as hell.

“Hey, bro! He wants to come! Don’t let him yet - grab that monster and squeeze it to death!”

Blue-eyes answered by gripping me so hard round the root that I yelled around his throat-thrusting dick - but whatever he was doing was not only extremely hot but tamed the snake and kept the muscle-juice locked in my swollen nuts until They wanted it out. Brown-eyes upped the ante now by thrusting really hard and really fast, road-ramming my butt.

Blue-eyes was enjoying keeping my balls in captivity so much, especially when he saw that my dick got even thicker and dark purple at the same time, that he pulled his dick out of my mouth and started to torture me by sucking hard on my big fat, bursting corona.

Now I was able to see that tall, blonde gymnast with the perfect bod called Brett was standing near us, jerking his dick. I was having a great time but, shit! I wanted to fuck him so bad!

“Don’t let him come!” yelled Brown-eyes, ramming even harder, “’cos I’m going to fill him up now!”

“Shit shit sheeeit!” he yelled as he jetted his torrent into me. His twin bit into the rim under my dick-head and slapped my balls with one hand - hard. This was too much for me - I reared up from the cushions, taking them both by surprise. In the same moment that I freed myself I hurled my beefed up, pumped up, hungry-for-fucking Mr. Scandinavia bod full tilt with a roar at Brett and sent that fucker flying backwards on to the cushions with my two-foot snake rammed up his ass and his legs over my shoulders.

“Fuck, yes! Fuck me, you fucker! Fuck me harder! Give me all you’ve got!” the boy yelled.

“You don’t know how much you’re asking, boy! This fuck-pole has been waiting all night for your muscle-pussy and now it’s got it!”

I fucked away - he roared away - Blue-eyes was now fucking Brown-eyes furiously beside us but I only had eyes for the perfect face and perfect muscles of this Brett-boy. I think he was even surprised to be fucked so hard and so fast. I put my hands on the floor beside his curly head, stretched almost to full-length, doing violent press-ups into his ass. He seized my head and brought his own up to fasten his mouth round my face-fucking tongue, his legs now wrapped around my waist.

In my drugged and crazy state I was vaguely conscious of another yell from behind me which approached at the speed of an express train, getting louder as it roared down the full length of the room towards us.

Suddenly I felt the crushing weight of a ton of muscle on my back and the violent rape of my back passage by a thick, tattooed dick I remembered all too well. Tattoo was getting his revenge for being made to wait so long for his prey. That powerful thickness smashed its way into a well-used, sloppy-seconds fuck-chute, determined to make me feel the full weight of my punishment.

Brett’s eyes widened in amazement as he saw Tattoo’s handsome, angry face appear over my shoulder; I thought they’d pop out when he too felt the full brunt of the dick-attack being transferred through me to him. Now he was being attacked by two road-rammers simultaneously digging into his bit of the road.

Pilot appeared behind Brett’s head, squatting down to support the boy’s head. Brett looked grateful but soon saw Pilot’s thick blonde dick waving over his face and, equally soon, he devoured it, rolling the fat tube around his mouth with obvious relish.

That left just the twins and Red who seemed happy to jerk each other off as they watched this beyond-porn performance. “Chi Chi, eat your heart out!” muttered Red, as he got into the act himself. He knelt beside Brett and started in on sucking that boy’s long, hungry dick. Completing the circle like this caused Brett to click into top gear immediately. His thrusts, jerks, spasms, started to control the rest of us and soon we were all riding his crazy, jumping, bumping , runaway train.

Brett was the first to come and Red just got his face out of the way in time to see the magnificent cum-fall that Brett provided: he soon joined it with his. Pilot nearly got his dick bitten off as Brett jetted forth and he too cascaded on to the beautiful blonde guy’s face and chest. That just left me (I thought) and the sight of all this splurting joy-juice was too much for the snake and his balls: I delivered a gallon with force on to Brett‘s perfect pecs.

I thought that was it, but of course it was Tattoo who had fucked that torrent out of me and he wasn’t finished yet. Either he was punishing me for making him wait so long for his promised fuck or, in some obscure way, he was exacting jealous payment from this invading foreigner. Anyways, he never stopped fucking. He pulled me back into a half-sitting position so as to ram me still more forcibly. My half-crazed, druggy mind was really enjoying it but some where deep inside it was beginning to wonder if…….

Then, suddenly it was all over. He leashed a hot thick wad into me, then pushed me down on to Brett’s great chest, pulling out of me with satisfactory violence. They told me later, he snatched up a handful if clothes and left the place - having exacted his due, I guess. But the joy of the evening was not yet over. He had pushed my pecs full-weight on to Brett’s swimming chest - swimming in gallons of four other guy’s cum.

He put his arms round me, kissed me, and we proceeded to squirm about, joined at the mouth, lubed by all that gism, pec sliding over excited pec, abs competing with their grinding eight-packs, big dicks enjoying the pressure from both sides, both of them longing to cum again. The others started to pull us apart, but we persisted till our cocks, which were almost twisted round each other in their own embrace, both came over each other, filling every crevice and striation of our muscles. Then they did pull us off each other and fell on us both to lick up every available glob of cum from our chests and pecs and faces and eyes - even my well-filled ass got sucked dry.

We were all drying each other off with various bits of discarded clothing when the bell rang again. Groans and laughter.

“Bjorn’s feeding time again!”

“Don’t you all get to feed too?”

“Yes, but not every 90 minutes!” said Pilot, clearly in loco parentis, “Drink up, like a good boy!”

Drink up I did - and immediately fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. •