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Zeke Chronicles, The
|Note: The stories in this series are purely fictional.|
|"Did you see the new guy?" Mark leaned forward over the table, almost in a =
whisper. "Shit, he makes Glen look like an anorexic!"
"Yeah right," John scoffed as he took a bite from his sandwich. "Glen is t= he best-built guy I've ever seen. What, he weighs probably 240 pounds of soli= d muscle."
"I KNOW!" Mark's eyes opened wide. "But I'm TELLING you, this new kid is stacked like Engine 73," he nodded his head toward the door leading to the =
garage. "He's huge! But totally ripped!"
"Shit," John said. "This I gotta see. Where is he?"
"Captain's showing him around. I think they're down in the office."
Mark and John continued eating their lunch. The door opened and Glen walked in.
"You two guys see that new kid yet?" Glen asked; his eyebrows were raised and his thumb was pointing behind him toward the door.
"Yeah," Mark said. "He's huge!"
"No shit," Glen said. "I gotta find out what that guy eats! Did you see h= is arms?"
"Fuck," Mark said. "They're gigantic-- but ripped to shreds!"
Glen lifted his big leg over the back of a chair and sat down. He shook hi= s head, not believing that someone was going to take his position as reigning=
musclestud of the station. At 35 years old, Glen had honed his body to nea= r perfection over the years. The long shifts in the fire station allowed him= to really work on his physique, and it showed. He was easily the best-built = guy at the station-- and THAT was saying something. Most of the guys were amateur bodybuilders as well, spending hours upon hours every week in the station's weight room.
Mark looked at Glen and admired his thick, muscular traps. Mark had a thin= g for shoulders, and Glen's traps and delts always gave him a visual treat. =
"Well," Glen said standing back up, "I really should get to my workout." H= e turned and walked out the door.
� � � � �
Glen panted loudly, slowly pushing up the 500 pound barbell as Kevin spotted him.
"Go man," Kevin commanded. "You got it."
Glen pressed out a fourth rep, forcing it slowly upward. Kevin leaned forw= ard and placed his fingertips under the bar for the last few inches. Glen's la= rge, muscular arms wobbled; his pecs fluttered. His face was red and for a spli= t second, it looked like he would fail. Finally, Glen forced the bar up, and= it clanged loudly as he racked it. He groaned as he exhaled in exhaustion.
"Awesome!" Kevin yelled. Four other firemen watching cheered their approval as well. Glen sat up, sweating.
"Five hundred pounds for four reps!" Kevin exclaimed. He gave Glen a high-=
five, just as the door from the garage area opened.
In walked the captain, followed by the biggest, most well developed specime= n of manhood any of the men had ever seen. Well over six and a half feet tal= l, he was fuckin' huge, but his physique was obviously ripped to shreds, as most noticeably evidenced by his tiny waistline. It had to be less than 30=
"Guys," the captain interrupted, "this is Troy Magnum. He's the newby I to= ld you about. He'll be bunking with you, Mark." The captain nodded to Mark. =
Shit, the forearms on this guy were like nothing Mark had ever seen even in=
the muscle magazines or on the many videos he had watched.
Mark's gaze traveled up the inhuman arms and met the eyes of Troy-- eyes that pierced Mark's soul. They were radiant brown eyes, beautifully highlighted by dark, sensual eyelashes and perfectly graceful eyebrows. Sh= it! He was gorgeous. His cheeks dimpled slightly as he smiled.
His shoulders defined WIDE. His traps were mammoth rocks of muscle challenging the seam of his shirt. He had a thick, muscular neck that was =
long, yet wider than his head. His ears stuck out perfectly, exuding a vir= ile, youthful aura. His military-short hair was dark brown. He was fucking gorgeous! His chest was so thick, Mark imagined that you could set a plate=
Troy looked at his admirers. His expression was minimal. He didn't scowl,=
but he didn't smile. The seriousness of his countenance gave an edge to hi= s drop-dead gorgeous face. It was a young, innocent face. Yet it wasn't nai= ve. He was secure and confident; almost to the point of being aloof. Yes, that= was it. He was actually quite aloof-- not really affected by the men's stares.= Yet his dimples, his sparkling eyes, his white-hot teeth (when he showed them) =
belonged to the face of a god. Just his face alone was enough to give Mark= a boner. But of course, Mark wasn't looking at his face alone.
Troy wore the standard light blue short sleeved firefighters shirt, and Mar= k couldn't stop looking at those gargantuan, rippling arms. Troy's forearms =
were thick, striated with a network of veins that would make AT&T envious, =
and clearly bigger than most men's upper arms. And his upper arms fought against the sleeves of his shirt like they would tear them if he but flexed= the muscles even a little bit. His triceps rippled in thick, rolling waves. S= hit, they were the biggest guns Mark, and all of the other guys, had ever seen!
Troy seemed to scan the group of firefighters. His gaze stopped on Mark. =
Surely, Mark wasn't the biggest guy there, or even the best looking. But nonetheless, Troy's eyes lingered on Mark for a few uncomfortable seconds, =
piercing into the innermost part of him, uncovering the secret longings, th= e private fantasies, the throbbing desires. Their eyes locked. Mark could = tell he was being violated. The powerful stare seemed to undress his facade and=
reveal the deepest sexual longings and muscle worship fantasies he ever had.
Mark finally blinked. He looked away. Troy had found his man.
Glen got up from the bench and shook Troy's hand. "You want to give it a =
shot?" Glen said, motioning to the bench. Already Glen was feeling a tightening in his stomach. While Mark might have worn his hidden gayness a=
little closer to the surface than most closet dwellers, Glen was, in his pu= blic persona, clearly a manly jock het. No one would have ever guessed that he =
harbored untold sensual leanings toward musclemen. Indeed, even Glen himself didn't fully admit his lusts, even to himself.
But Troy was stirring in Glen an inner conflict that inevitably would come = to the surface whether he liked it or not. Maybe not today. Maybe not next week.=
But eventually, Troy would be the catalyst that would force Glen to face hi= s own attraction to muscular men. Troy, the men would soon find out, had a way of doing that.
"Sure," Troy smiled. "Why not." He sat down on the end of the bench and stretched his huge arms out wide. The men gathered around, anxious to see =
how this huge musclestud would handle the weight that had made Glen famous among firefighters.
Troy laid down and spread his arms out, grabbing the bar. His arms were long-- REAL long, and his grip was probably a hand-width wider than Glen's.=
Troy's chest was so huge that the buttons on his shirt looked ready to pop =
right off. His massive upper arms bulged as he tightened his grip, threate= ning the integrity of his shirt sleeves.
"Shit," one of the men whispered. Indeed, it was a sight to behold, just watching Troy lay down on the bench.
Mark discretely positioned himself behind one of the other barbell weights = to hide his raging hardon.
Without waiting for a spotter, Troy lifted the bar off the struts. As if i= t were a broom handle, he began lowering the bar to his chest. Five hundred pounds =
of steel moved to meet his pecs as if it were fifty pounds. Troy pushed th= e bar up just as easily as he had lowered it. The second rep was just as fluid,= just as fast. Then the third. As he raised the bar on the fourth rep, two of t= he buttons over his chest popped off his shirt, revealing his bright white cot= ton T- shirt.
"Holy shit," John said.
Mark, standing behind a 45 pound disk, began, for the first time in his lif= e, to cum in his pants involuntarily. He held onto the disk and tried to hold s= till, praying that no one would see.
Fortunately, no one was really looking at Mark.
Troy kept going. Five. Six. He wasn't even breathing hard. His cadence =
remained steady and quick. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. The last reps were as f= ast as the first.
Troy racked the bar and sat up; he clearly could have done many more reps. =
He hadn't even broken a sweat.
He fumbled with the button holes of his shirt.
"Cheeeezuuus H. Chrys" Glen said. The mouths of the men were wide open, as were their eyes.
Troy looked up at the men and with barely a smile said "You got any more weights to put on this thing?" He looked right at Mark, who was just finis= hing his ejaculations. Their eyes locked. The corner of Troy's mouth turned up= . Could he tell what had happened? Mark looked down at the floor, red faced,=
but trying to maintain his composure.
"Shit, man," Kevin said. "What's your max?"
"Dunno," Troy said. "I've never really tried. I've done a thousand, thoug= h. But I could've done more."
"You're shittin' me," Glen said. "No one can bench a thousand pounds."
Troy stood up and walked up to Glen. He stood more than a half-foot taller=
than Glen. He looked down at the older fireman and smiled. "You want to p= ut some money on that?"
"Well, all this male bonding is all good and fine," the captain interrupted= . "But that'll have to wait till later. We need to get Troy settled in.
Troy turned away from Glen and followed the captain out of the room. As th= e men marveled at what they had just seen, Mark quietly scurried out to the sleeping quarters to change.
� � � � �
Mark looked over at his digital clock. One-thirty a.m. The room was dark.= He leaned over his bunk to check on the bed below. Empty. Mark slipped off h= is bunk and quietly walked down the aisle between the snoring firemen, and opened the door.
He walked down the hall, stopping outside the door to the exercise room. A=
light shown under the door, although it wasn't bright. Clearly, only a few= lights were on inside.
Mark quietly opened the door and stepped inside. At the opposite wall, Tro= y was setting two dumbbells back on the rack. His back was to Mark, but mirrors covered all the walls.
Troy was wearing a tank top and shorts. His back-- (shit, those lats!)-- w= as wider than most freeways. Mark immediately sprung a boner. Fuck, why didn't he put on his pants! It was going to be so obvious, just wearing hi= s boxers and a T-shirt!
Troy turned around. "I thought you'd find your way down here, sooner or later," he said softly. Their eyes locked, as they had twice before, and T= roy's peaceful, confident face melted Mark. Shit, he was so thick! His tall, overdeveloped body screamed power. His muscles were ripped to shreds, crawling all over themselves, covered only by the thin, lightweight tank to= p. He was the size of two men, yet his thin, narrow waist was skinnier than Mark's.
The hulk took a step toward Mark. The silence had seemed forever, yet it seemed natural, not uncomfortable. It was as if they had known each other = for years, and were both at ease with just being together. Troy smiled at Mark= . Mark looked away.
"I didn't get a chance to apologize to you," Troy said slowly and quietly. = There was almost a romance to his voice. The room, with its sparse lighting, was=
peaceful. It was a hot night, and Troy had opened a window. Outside, crickets softly chirped.
"Apologize?" Mark said.
Troy took a few steps closer to Mark, who had once again taken his position=
behind a 45 pound disk that was on a barbell, in order to hide himself. Tr= oy looked down at the floor, then back up at Mark.
"Yeah," Troy said.
Mark also spoke slowly. "For what?"
Another step closer. "For what I did to you when I was benching this afternoon. I hope I didn't embarrass you." Troy looked down at the disk, a= s if he were looking right through it.
Mark turned beet red. "Oh shit," he whispered. He looked at the floor and= felt like he would burst into tears. He HAD to maintain composure. He swallowed hard.
"I hope I didn't cause too much of a mess." He looked sincere, and yet was=
that a hint of a grin?
Mark repeated himself, holding onto the disk. "Oh shit."
The sound of the crickets outside offered the only relief from the silence.=
"Hey, don't sweat it," Troy finally said. He played with his fingernails, = like he was cleaning them as he talked. He looked up at Mark. "Happens all the time," he smiled.
"I had never done that before," Mark said truthfully, although he had come =
countless times in private, fantasizing over imaginary guys who didn't hold= a candle to Troy's reality.
Troy smiled, almost painfully. "If we're going to keep your little secret = from all these guys, you're going to have to learn some self control, dude."
Mark looked at his feet as he scuffled them. "Yeah," his voice cracked.
"I think," Troy said as he stepped closer-- he was about 10 feet from Mark =
now-- "that I can help you with that, if you want."
"With some self control."
"Oh," Mark said. More silence. "What do you mean?"
Troy walked around the end of a bench, closer to Mark. His mammoth body seemed to emanate heat, power and sensuality. As he edged closer, the relief map of his muscles and veins became more and more vivid, revealing muscles vibrating and rippling with life as the shadows and light of the so= ftly- lit room illuminated his physique.
"Well," Troy said stopping, "I think you need to learn how to control yours= elf. Maybe if you were exposed to more muscle, you'd be able to learn how to control your urges in the face of temptation." His words seemed to mock Mark, yet his face was sincere.
Mark looked away.
Troy started to touch the bottom hem of his tank top. His arms, shoulders = and chest seemed only inches from Mark, although he was still five feet away. =
"You think if I took this tank top off you'd be able to keep from coming?" = he said with long, loving eyes.
Mark didn't answer.
Troy smiled slightly.
Mark's heart pounded.
Troy turned slowly and looked over at the door, then back at Mark. He walk= ed over to the door and locked it, then returned, not saying anything. He sto= pped again about five feet from Mark, looking deeply into his eyes. "So, how lo= ng you been into muscle?" he said thoughtfully, almost tenderly.
Mark shrugged his shoulders.
"Kind of a curse, isn't it," Troy offered. "Always being drawn to muscleme= n, but trying desperately to keep up the appearance..."
Mark just looked at him.
"Why don't you step out from behind that weight. You don't have to worry. = It's all cool."
Without taking his eyes off Troy, Mark reluctantly stepped to the side. Hi= s cock was sticking up to the left, moistening his gray boxers with precum all ove= r his hip.
Troy smiled softly as he looked at Mark's boxers. He took a small step forward. "Am I making you do that?" he said so innocently that Mark wanted=
Mark swallowed hard; his heart was pounding so hard he thought he'd wake the whole station.
Troy started to lift his tank top up. He kept his eyes on Mark's eyes. "N= ow, remember," he whispered. "Self control." He grinned and lifted the shirt,=
revealing a set of abs that looked like a rock-work fireplace. Deep, nearl= y inch-deep, canyons separated the mounds of muscle; and Troy wasn't even exhaling or flexing or anything! He was just totally relaxed as he showed = off his lower torso, and it was unbelievably ripped! The tank top went higher,=
lifted by a forearm that looked like it could take on a jackhammer. As he =
raised his shirt up and over his head, his pecs seemed to balloon out, thickening as they were exposed.
Shit! His nipples were huge and dark. His skin was perfect; dark, tan and=
thin. The cleft between his pecs was easily deeper than an inch, as was th= e overhang of his chest above his abs. His shoulders rippled with untold poundage of muscle on top of thick, sinewy muscle. And those arms were the=
biggest, most ripped set of bazookas on the planet!
Troy smiled. "You okay?"
Mark, on the verge, just stood there.
"You want me to put it back on?"
Mark shook his head slowly.
"You're doing good," Troy smiled. "Let's see how you do while I do a littl= e showing off." He moved close and pulled down Mark's boxers, exposing the slimy, long cock which nearly slapped against his abs. "I want to be able = to watch," Troy smiled. The scent and heat of Troy's body was overwhelming. =
That, combined with the action of pulling down his boxers, almost sent Mark=
over the edge. "Fight it, Mark," Troy whispered. "You can do it buddy." = He placed his hand on Mark's shoulder. "You okay?"
Mark nodded, looking away.
Troy walked over and grabbed a long iron bar that didn't have any weights o= n it. He held it in front of himself, chest high, palms down. He stretched = out his fingers, getting a good grip. Slowly, his face tightened, and the muscles = on his shoulders and arms tensed. His countenance showed deep thought and determination as he winced. He took in a few deep breaths.
The size of Troy's muscles actually made Mark believe that the musclegiant =
would somehow be able to pull this off. But how could he? No man could bend that bar. It was made to hold hundreds and hundreds of pounds! But a= s Troy's massive muscles brought to bear on the metal in his hands, Mark coul= d see that the strength of this guy was way abnormal. His muscle size was unbelievable, and the sheer density and movement of them made almost any feat seem plausible.
Troy's face grimaced. He held his breath. Slowly, imperceptibly at first,= but then more noticeably, the bar began to bend in the middle.
Mark watched as this unbelievable demonstration took place, right in front = of his adoring eyes, and his erect, worshipping cock. He could feel his penis=
tense up. Troy's gargantuan muscles rippled. He panted. Sweat began to bead up on his forehead. The bar bent more.
Mark thought he'd faint. But instead, his body stiffened and for the secon= d time that day he reached orgasm without even trying. Heavy, thick ropes of=
cum began squirting out of his cock.
Troy stopped. He quickly sat the bar on the bench and stepped over to Mark= , who was by now in the throws of a heavy, hard orgasm. Troy got on his knee= s and began drinking at Mark's fountain.
"Mmmmmfffgrrhh, mmmmmmfffgrrhh," Troy moaned as he swallowed. "I was so hungry for this," he said between gulps. Some of the jizz dribbled onto= his lip and chin, but he wiped it onto the shaft of Mark's cock and licked it u= p, not wanting to loose a single drop.
Mark moaned as he shot. "Ohhhhhh shit."
Troy grabbed Mark's ass and continued feasting. As he did, Mark placed his=
hands on Troy's shoulders, feasting his fingers on the steel traps and delt= s. But... but they seemed to be actually growing! Holy SHIT, they WERE growing!
Mark looked down, not believing what his hands were feeling. Yet he was reluctant to believe what his eyes were seeing. There, on his knees before=
him, Troy was getting bigger and bigger! His shoulders actually widened! = His already inhuman traps bulged with even more hardness and size. Mark could =
feel Troy's grip tighten on his ass. It began to hurt.
"FFfffffggggggghhhhh!" Troy groaned. His lips popped off Mark's cock and h= is dropped his head back. His tree-trunk neck was a mass of vein-laced muscle= ! He panted. His eyes were like saucers. He gritted his teeth, and some of =
Mark's cum dribbled out of his mouth, looking not unlike a rabid dog.
"Holy fuckin' SHIT! What's happening!?" Mark yelled.
Troy let go of Mark's ass and fell backwards, kneeling on top of his own he= els. He put his hands on the floor behind him and panted. His muscular body crawled with teeming muscle fibers, each one growing and rippling, fighting=
against the veins which encircled them. He nearly gagged on the cum still = in his mouth.
Mark watched, aghast.
Finally, Troy started to recover. His size diminished back to his previous= , gigantic state, although he certainly looked like he had a great pump. He =
breathed heavily, exhausted, looking up at Mark.
"You okay?" Troy asked.
Mark had been speechless. "I was about to ask you the same thing!"
Troy smiled and leaned over toward the bench, pulled himself up onto it and=
sat down. "Yeah, I'm okay," he said.
"What the shit was THAT!?" Mark demanded.
"Just a little..." he said between breaths, "just a little... feeding," he = said.
Troy wiped his chin. "Yeah. The reason I'm so strong, and so big is that =
somehow..." he breathed, "somehow I need to feed off guy's cum. Gotta have=
"What the hell?"
"It's true, dude. Hope you won't mind helping me out with that every so of= ten. Yours really was good."
"What?" Mark was shaking his head. "What the hell are you saying?"
Troy stood up and looked at Mark. His chest was still rising and falling deeply. "Thanks, dude. I'll catch more of you later." He turned toward t= he door, and put his tank top back on. "Gotta get some shuteye now. I'm spen= t." He walked over to the door and turned back to look at Mark. "This can be o= ur little secret, if you want. I won't tell a soul." He unlocked the door an= d closed it as he left.
Mark stood staring at the door, his cock only now beginning to recede.
� � � � �
Glen raised his head slightly as the huge hulk walked past his bunk in the =
darkness. Troy's silhouette was barely visible at the other end of the roo= m as he lifted his tank top off and slipped off his shorts. The musclehunk slip= ped under his covers on the lower bunk and Glen's heart slowed. Shit, he wishe= d there was more light in the room.
He felt himself get harder and harder as his mind replayed images of Troy. =
He rolled over onto his stomach and masturbated himself to sleep, cumming in a huge, wet mess all over his sheets. Just before he slipped back to sl= eep, he heard the door open again. Another figure walked quietly by and crawled=
into the bunk above Troy.
In the darkness, Glen's eyebrows furrowed. Then he dozed back to sleep.
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