Zeke Chronicles, The

Troy Goes to Work


By Aaron Strong

It had been two weeks since Troy had joined the station, and he had assumed the position of musclestud to beat all musclestuds. News of his shattering of Glen's 500 pound bench press quickly spread throughout the whole fire district.

Troy had been out on three calls since coming to the station, all of them car accidents. In this town, that was the usual call for a fire truck. Not really many fires.

Troy and Mark had quickly become best friends, for reasons that were only obvious to themselves and the reader of this little tale. But unknown to Mark, Troy had also taken a liking to Glen, a man whom Troy was slowly forcing to reckon with his own, previously un-admitted, desires for musclemen. Glen found himself drawn to Troy like he had never been drawn to a person before, not even his own wife. The two men spotted each other in the gym, and afterward while they showered in separate stalls, Glen found himself unable to suppress his infatuation with Troy's muscular, perfectly proportioned, superhuman body. The more he tried to stifle his animal attraction to Troy, the more Glen found himself blowing harder and harder wads in the shower and in bed.

It was late afternoon when the call came in. A car accident on Seneca. The men jumped in the fire truck and the EMT's led the way in the rescue car.

It was one of the worst scenes Glen had ever seen, in all his years of firefighting. A car had spun out of control at a pretty high speed, swiping three other cars before flipping over and coming to rest upside down against a huge metal sign standard-- one that held a highway sign that spanned the whole road, anchored on the other side of the highway by an identical standard. The three cars in the wake of the perpetrator were badly damaged, each one with injured inside. The EMT's got to work quickly, and as the men moved to the cars, two other engine companies and a few more rescue cars arrived, along with the police and multiple ambulances.

The most severe situation was obviously the car by the pole. Resting half on its roof and half on its side, it was crushed against the sign pole and also flattened against the cement wall that had helped to stop it. There were two people inside.

When Troy and three other firefighters got to the car, it was obvious that there would be little hope of survivors inside. The top of the car was nearly flattened down to the top of the doors. It was wedged in against the pole in an awkward position, crammed in between the pole and the cement wall that lined the highway. One firefighter climbed on top of the car to check the people inside.

"They're alive!" he shouted, surprising everyone.

"Holy shit," Glen said. "How could anyone survive that?"

"We're going to need the Jaws of Life," the fireman on top of the car shouted. Quickly, Kevin ran back to the engine and grabbed the necessary equipment.

It took a few minutes to get the Jaws set up. Once positioned, Kevin started them up. Metal scraping against metal produced a horrifying scream as the car buckled and jumped, fighting against the cement wall and the pole which held it in place.

The car roof moved only a few inches. The Jaws creaked and groaned. More horrendously loud screaming of metal. Finally, the Jaws buckled and snapped.

"Holy fucking shit!" Kevin yelled as the Jaws broke. "This isn't going to work! The car is wedged too tight here! We're going to have to pull it out before we can get these people out!"

"There isn't time for that," the guy on top hollered, his arm inside the car, taking the pulse of one of the injured. "This man is going into shock! We have to get them out of there NOW!"

Immediately Troy jumped on top of the car. "Step aside," he told the firefighter.

"What are you doing?" Kevin demanded.

"Stand clear of the car!" Troy ordered.

The firefighter on top jumped off. He could see Troy was determined, and there was no way he was going to argue with a man that size.

Troy bent down and put his hands on the car-- one hand on the roof, one on the door pane. He molded his hands to the car and set his eyes on his work. He began to pull on the car, trying to separate the roof from the cabin of the car. There was a loud popping sound as the car fought against Troy's strength. The car barely budged.

Troy, now panting and sweating, stood up and took off his coat, throwing it down quickly to the ground. He was now just wearing his dark blue firefighter's T-shirt and red suspenders holding up his too-big yellow pants. His physique, now outlined by the cotton shirt, astounded the men. Muscle upon muscle bulged. His suspenders were pushed out wide by his gargantuan traps, hugging a deep valley between them and his seemingly- basket ball-sized deltoids.

The Herculean physique bent down once again and repositioned his hands on the car. He began pulling on it again. The car protested against his mighty strength, but as his rippling, vein-crossed forearms and biceps began to shake, there was a loud BANG of metal giving way. The roof raised a few inches, affording Troy a better grip now. He once again wrapped his hands around the metal and began pulling the car apart. The steel creaked loudly, moving very slowly under Troy's power.

"Motherofgod," a firefighter from another station said, mouth open wide. "The Jaws of Life snapped in two, but that guy is pulling it apart with his bare hands!"

The pole holding the highway sign started to move as Troy's boulder-like arms continued to pull on the roof of the car. There was nowhere else to go, but to move the pole.

"You're going to tip over the sign!" Kevin shouted.

Without looking up from his work, Troy yelled "Then make sure the road is closed!"

Traffic had barely been moving, because of all the emergency vehicles. But now the cops closed down the road completely.

Troy's gargantuan arms and shoulders bulged and grew. His face was contorted. Occasionally he dropped his head back and bared his teeth, groaning and growling as he forced the car to open up so the men could get at its contents. Another loud bang of metal, and a few more inches. Veins bulged on Troy's neck.

Glen standing only a few feet away, touched himself under his long fireman's jacket, squeezing his hardon through his pants, lusting over the inconceivable demonstration of muscle power.

The sign and poles swung with each victory of Troy's arms. His back, rippling with iron muscle, looked like a human wall. He yelled out in one last exertion of inhuman strength. "Aaarrrrrrrrgh!" The car roof snapped open on the rear end. Then, as Troy raised his trembling right arm and pressed farther, the front support of the roof snapped off as well.

"Shit on my mother," Kevin said. "He pried that thing open like it was a bag of candy!" The pole stopped its swinging, and immediately the EMT's jumped inside the car and started treating the two occupants.

Troy jumped down. His pumped muscles were swollen with blood, oozing with sweat. He panted hard, his thick chest rising and falling and his sweaty shirt sticking to the individual mounds of his abs as they expanded and contracted. The sleeves of his T-shirt had torn about an inch or two from the hem, unable to contain the expanding biceps and triceps muscles in their care. Troy wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, and his lat muscles flared like the wings of a manta ray. His pumped legs filled out the baggy fireman's pants.

Glen watched him, silently.

The overhead door closed loudly as the firemen got down off the truck. It hadn't been a physically exhausting run, except for Troy; but the scene had taken its toll on the men mentally and emotionally. They were spent. They slowly cleaned up their gear and one by one they made their way upstairs to the kitchen for some well-deserved grub.

Troy, however, elected to hit the showers. Glen followed.

"I gotta admit," Glen said as Troy undressed, "I've never seen anything like what you did out there. You have the strength of a dozen men!"

Troy smiled and undid his suspenders. He looked at Glen. "Just doin' what had to be done," he said. He slipped the suspenders off his shoulders and they hung next to his pants. He unzipped his pants and let them fall down to the floor. He was wearing boxers. "I'm going to hit the shower," he said.He slowly shrugged his shoulders, stretching his muscles out, raising his mammoth arms out to his sides, then down again. "Too bad we don't have money for a masseuse here at the station," he smiled.

Glen took off his boots. "Well, as a matter of fact, I've taken some massage classes," he said, looking at the floor.

"No shit?" Troy said, lifting his shirt off.

"Yeah," Glen said, looking up. It was all he could do to not stare at Troy's powerful, muscled body. There couldn't have been one per cent of fat on his physique. Glen's gut actually began to hurt. The sight before him was so compelling, so powerful, so utterly beautiful that he immediately sprouted a steel-hard boner. Shit, Troy was perfect. Better than perfect. The absolute epitome of a musclegod. His traps, bigger and wider than most men's deltoids, nearly jumped off his shoulders as he slowly shrugged again, first his left one, then the right, tilting his head back as he stretched them out.

"You willing to give these tired ol' muscles a rubdown when I'm done showering?" Troy asked innocently.

"Sure, kid," Glen answered. "After what you did out there, I imagine your muscles are pretty worn and tired."

"Well," Troy said, stretching them out, rolling them in ripples of striated power, "a little hand motion wouldn't hurt." He pulled off his boxers; Glen forced himself to look away. Oh it hurt to look away! Troy turned and stepped into the shower and closed the frosted glass door.

Glen watched as Troy's silhouette filled the shower door, being careful to not get caught looking. Whenever Troy turned to face the glass, Glen quickly averted his stare. But when he was able to watch, his cock tightened so much it hurt.

Whether Glen just wasn't thinking or whether he was just so enthralled with being with Troy, he absentmindedly took off his shirt and pants. He was wearing only his Hanes briefs. Not a good idea with a 9 inch long erection.

As Troy turned off the water, Glen realized how obvious his boner was and he quickly threw a towel around his waist just as Troy stepped out of the stall. Troy dried himself off. Glen walked over to a padded table that was near the wall.

"You ready to give me that rubdown now?" Troy asked as he wiped down his chest. He shook his head like a dog, splashing water everywhere. He smiled at Glen. Shit, he was cute!

"Sure," Glen said, trying not to sound too enthusiastic about it. He patted the table. "Why don't you lay down right here and I'll get started.

Troy walked over to Glen, spreading the towel on the table. Before he laid down, he stopped, facing Glen straight on. "Do you think, before I lay down, you could do a little work on these traps of mine?" he said, scrunching up his shoulders. His traps rose into the air like two hot air balloons.

Glen obediently put his hands on Troy's traps and squeezed them. Shit. They didn't give! Glen squeezed harder, and Troy relaxed, lowering his shoulders. "Oh that feels good," Troy said closing his eyes.

Glen's forearms were tired within half a minute. His fingers couldn't penetrate those mounds of muscle for anything! His hands up on Troy's shoulders, he had no way of making sure things didn't get out of hand underneath his towel. And they WERE getting out of hand.

Finally Troy laid down on his stomach. Glen reached over Troy's back and started moving his hands up and down the mounds of muscle. Glen's cock ached. He rubbed and squeezed for a few minutes before Troy suggested that he climb up on top and sit on his butt while he massaged. Glen obeyed without arguing.

The warm, hard muscles gave only minimally as Glen massaged them. Glen's ass sat on top of Troy's, the towel spread wide by his legs. The only thing separating their butts was the thin cotton of Glen's briefs. Glen continued to rub. Holy shit, this guy was inhuman! His muscles rolled under Glen's hands. No fat anywhere. His back was a relief map.

Glen moved his palms down and out to cup Troy's wide, thick lats. Troy seemed to be comfortable with whatever Glen did. Glen's hardon poked up his right hip, wetting his shorts. He tightened his cock, and brought himself dangerously close to climax, just sitting there on top of Troy. He leaned forward and massaged Troy's delts and traps again. As he leaned forward, he unknowingly popped above the elastic of his briefs. His purple, wet head started to dribble precum on the small of Troy's back. Glen kept rubbing.

Muscle fibers danced and rippled under Glen's strong hands. He tightened his cock once again. That was enough. Without thinking, he instinctively bucked his hips just a bit, pushing his balls into Troy's butt. He grabbed onto Troy's lats again, and tightened his grip. The first salvo landed smack dab in the middle of Troy's back. Glen's legs convulsed, tightening on Troy's waist, then relaxed. The second jerk was even harder, and Glen's long, ropey glob of cum plopped onto Troy's back again, this time a little higher and to the left.

Troy turned his head as he lifted it. "You okay?" he asked.

Glen didn't answer. His legs tightened and released on Troy's torso with each ejaculation; his jizz splashed out steadily now. Glen sat up straight and his milk spewed all over his own penis and briefs, dribbling onto Troy's lower back.

"What the..." Troy turned farther and upon realizing what was happening, his face immediately turned sour. He jerked himself around and off the table, standing back. The quick motion nearly sent Glen onto the floor, but he caught himself and instead sprawled out on the table top. He clung to the table, trying to force his jizz to stay inside, but a few final squirts popped out and squirted the table. Glen quickly put his cock back into this briefs and stared, aghast up at Troy.

Troy didn't say a word. He looked at Glen. His face was stone. His eyes were large, but not in the surprised sense, in the angry sense. Still, no words.

"Oh shit," Glen whispered.

Troy reached down and grabbed his towel, a corner of which was under Glen's leg. Troy yanked it out from under Glen and threw it over his head and, grabbing an end in each hand began rubbing it back and forth on his back to get the cream off.

Still, no words. Troy stared at Glen with a haunting, cold look. His eyes widened as he finished wiping. He turned and pulled on some pants, then grabbed the rest of his stuff and walked out the door.

"Oh shit," Glen whispered again as the door slammed. •

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