Pictures of Dorian's Gays, The


By John

The following story is part of an ongoing tale. Elements contained in this chapter are related to those in other chapters and readers may wish to explore the other chapters. This is a tale involving nudity, muscle growth and gay male sex. If these types of activities offend you, please do not choose to read it. Respectfully offered comments are always appreciated.

Premonitions of dawn outlined the enormous stone house as a silouhete against the brightening cobalt blue sky as it perched ominously at the top of the small Austrian Alps mountain. Yellow lights still shown from many of the windows, too many to count as the house kept disappearing behind the stands of trees along the winding driveway that they had been on for well over a mile now.

Kevin's exhaustion from the almost two days of traveling was kept at bay for the moment by the awe of the approaching castle-like facade. The strong solidity of the Art Nouveau stoic building seemed to contrast with the two first class modern plane rides it took to get here. He wanted sleep and a good workout. But, even in this state, his body knew that it needed rest first. The hulk of a chauffeur stopped the Bentley directly in front of the main door to the house; got out quietly; opened Kevin's door; picked up his one bag as if it weighed nothing and lead him to the front door.

At first siting at the airport, it was impossible not to notice that the driver had an obvious sensational build comparable to Michael's astounding proportions under the fitted black uniform. Even in his exhausted state, Kevin could not help but imagine at the quality of the seductively muscled body in front of him as it sauntered up the steps to the door. The back of the perfectly tailored coat caught itself repeatedly on the various back and butt muscles as they each hardened themselves to propel the body to which they were attached forward. The shoulders required the opening of both of the double door panels to permit them entrance while the hips could have easily gotten through a single one of the panels. The triceps hanging from the arm carrying what to most others would have been an extremely heavy large suitcase mooned out the fitted fabric and cut their own defining shadow.

"Wait here." The handsome face that appeared to be about the same age as Kevin finally pronounced its first words with a discernible German accent as the hulking body showed Kevin into a side room off of the marble foyer. "Would you like some juice?"

Kevin nodded and smiled with the friendliest face his tired body could summon up. He only had to wait a couple of minutes before the instigator of this little excursion half way around the earth entered the room.

"Welcome." Mr. Chronos beamed as he extended a warm, open hand toward Kevin. "I know you are extremely tired and I won't take up your time with anything too involved right now. I just wanted to tell you how glad I was that you have accepted my invitation."

"Thanks, but I don't want to start off by misleading you. All I did was to take some vacation time from work so that I could see what this was all about." Kevin responded directly.

"Good, good. I think that's a pretty smart way to be and I probably would have done the same thing if I were in your place." Dorian reacted with pleasant acceptance. "Like I said last time we met, you just can't be too sure about things today. Ah, you had ordered some juice. I hope orange is OK?"

The driver reentered carrying a tray with a glass and a large pitcher of juice. He had also removed his coat and tie and was wearing a crisp white shirt, still buttoned neatly at the collar, and his black pants. This gave Kevin his first glance at the incredible size of the man under the jacket. He was enormous - and absolutely solid with muscle. The perfectly fitted shirt arched largely and gracefully over the bulbous mounds that were his pecs and then dove back at almost a thirty degree angle into the small tight waistband of his pants. The short sleeves revealed arms that challenged those he had already seen on Michael. As he raised one hand up to reach across the tray to grasp the pitcher, Kevin watched in disbelief as the bouldered bicep fought to get around to it against the dense protruding pectoral.

"Thanks, Steve," the host acknowledged the muscled monster. Steve smiled back and, as he turned to leave, Kevin noted how the crotch of the pants moved back outward from the waistband at the same thirty degree angle and tented around a basket mound that promised to be as astounding as the muscle on the same body.

"That was Stefan, but now he likes to be called Steve. Not bad for a man of 84, is he?" Mr. Chronos remarked turning back to Kevin.

"What!" Kevin exclaimed as he caught the glass that almost shook out of his hand in reaction to the deadpan statement.

"Yes, you heard me correctly" Dorian continued as if this were a simple bit of information in a general conversation. "Steve is almost 85 now … and. I promise you, that's what you can expect to look like when you get to be his age if you choose to stay with us."

"That's not possible! How can that be! What kind of trick is this!" Kevin demanded with growing unsettlement.

"It's no trick, I assure you." the host responded calmingly. "You have probably noticed that Michael looks like someone about your age but, think about it, he is ten years older than you. He has benefited from the same results that Steve enjoys … that you can expect to enjoy … and that I, too, enjoy."

"B-b but, it's not possible!" Kevin repeated. "There's no way that can be real!"

"But it is, my fine young friend. I assure you it is." Mr. Chronos continued. "I know it's a lot to expect you to take in right now, especially after such a long, disorienting trip, but it is all true and I look forward to explaining this to you - after you get some rest. Now, Steve will show you to your suite and we will talk tonight at dinner."

Kevin sat quietly confused.

"I understand this is all sounds very confusing, but, believe me, it's not. Now, off you go to get some rest." Dorian concluded as he lead Kevin to the door and delivered him to the waiting Steve.

"By the way" he added as Kevin started up the stairs "I will be celebrating my 97th birthday later this month.."

With that, he turned and walked in the opposite direction.

Sleep came uneasily to Kevin but, eventually, all the confusion in his already blurred mind gave way to the demands of his over-tired body. He must have slept all day because it was dark when he awoke and the clock read 6:30. He got up, wandered from his expensively appointed sleeping chamber through a private sitting room and into what must be his own dressing room. One door lead to a large walk-in closet which was filled with many more and much finer clothes than he remembered packing. The other door lead into a phenomenal bathroom with a large whirlpool tub, walk-in shower and expansive sink counter and full mirrors everywhere.

He slept naked and this was the first he had seen his body in almost four days. Kevin lifted his right arm and watched his spectacular bicep rise and harden simultaneously in three differently angled mirrors. Instantly he felt the blood rushing to reacquaint itself with the muscle that had not been properly stimulated for a long time now. Instinctively, Kevin brought his left arm part way up on the opposite side and pushed it hard against the side of his chest as he witnessed the adjacent pectoral bulge outward and fill up to its greatest proportions, too. The back leg bent slightly as both lower extremities jointed the flesh pumping circus. The ample, but soft, cock and dangling testicles arched outward and forward from the constricted crotch area.

Kevin repeated this movement several times as he felt an increasing flow of warm blood rush happily into it's favorite body parts. A quick set of 40 push-ups and back to repeating the tensing side body pose. His skin began to flush deeper red as the veins pronounced their waiting presence everywhere on the rapidly expanded muscles. Another set of push-ups. Cuts reformed across the massive chest. Abs defined the vertical line of peaks and valleys as each reintroduced itself to the gazer in the mirror. Striations shot out up and down the upper leg muscles and around the moon of the dimpled ass. The balled biceps split into its joined upper and lower parts.

Not bad, Kevin thought to himself after about 15 minutes of posing, flexing and pushing. There didn't appear to be any damage to speak of from the forced break. The heat in his body combined with the heat growing in his mind as he watched his lovingly created monster muscles mold themselves back to their former, hard glory. He reached out and gently fondled pecs, biceps, lats, glutes and quads. His hands encountered the hot hard rock-like resistance they remembered so well.

Kevin swung his body slightly around and was able to get a good view of his equally flushed, thick back muscles . He traced their shadowed dive into the tight smallness of his lower back and the lined outward thrust of each steeled globe of invitingly defined ass muscles. On his swing back, the now equally hot inflated cock announced approval of what the eyes and were witnessing and the hands confirming. After four full days of failing to get any attention for itself, his purple- veined mighty man-tool visibly pumped as it insisted on saluting the man of muscle with its own form of fireworks.

In a moment of inspiration, Kevin began to fill the whirlpool tub with fresh warm water as he continued his personal size enhancing body pump. Within minutes both he and the tub were ready. Kevin got in and found the controls. He set the blowers to their maximum force and then slowly submerged his massive body into the excited waters. Moving to one end, he used the power of his pumped arms to push his upper body out of the water using the ledge at the end of the tub. The full mirror permitted him to watch his glistening, wet triceps and pecs glowing with tensed power as his body arced out of the water. Water dripped provocatively off of his harden, projecting nipples as if they, too, wanted to ejaculate from the forced stimulation.

He lowered himself again and repeated the motion as he watched the same muscles pump higher, fuller and harder. On the next motion, Kevin edged his body over slightly so that the crown of his submerged torpedo passed directly in front of the powerful mechanical openings shooting a painfully hard jet of water and air directly at it. The force hit his piss slit with a power and stimulation he had never experienced before. His ass and cock clenched as hard as they could in an attempt to fight the demands of the driving water/air combination to smash his mighty cock out of the way of their unyielding pressure. The pain of the assault was only outdone by the ecstasy of the erotic stimulation tripping across his entire cock helmet. Then the exotic force ripped across his tingling testicles slapping them against each other and the front of his rockened upper thighs.

He repeated the movement over and over again with growing sense of heat and arousal. His cock hardened even more as the mechanical blow job tried to reach into his groin through the love channel opening at the tip. Kevin winced in uncontrollable pleasure as the most sensitive part of his cock reacted to the full impact of the whirling stimulation. He watched in the mirror at the top of each push-up as his rigidly engaged pecs and triceps quaked maddeningly as the extraordinary stimulation reached deep into their usually overpowering massiveness.

Finally, when he knew he was as solidly ready to accept the full final challenge. Kevin locked his body in its raised, most tensed position with his steely challenging rod head to head against the mechanical onslaught. His pecs and triceps pounded themselves into cords of hot metal. He felt his ass muscles tighten so hard that no human would have been able to penetrate their muscled lock. Kevin's cock held itself rigidly against the attacking focused column of jetting forces as every ounce of his mind locked it into placed. The force became an attack of sensation. Using every ounce of control, Kevin held rigid against the demand to yield.

Kevin endeavored to show this mechanical torturer just who was in charge as he pushed against the impossibly hard current bringing the head of his cock virtually in contact with the jet opening. The pressure became insufferably erotic. Finally, the sensation became the center of the thinkable universe. With one last thrust, Kevin felt the jumbling within his balls as his cannon fired its own liquid attacking agent directly at the unstoppable water/air weapon. He screamed loud and long as the power of his own counter attack flowed forward. The second release came with equal force as did the third.

As the fourth load boomed along the length of the cannon barrel, Kevin's body collapsed fully back into the water with a groan of pure joy. He flipped himself over and laid there in relaxed joy as his cock continued to shoot into the swirling, caressing water. After a few minutes, he knew he was done and, in a more relaxed state than he could remember experiencing for a long time, Kevin lifted his spent, but pumped, body out of the water. He toweled himself dry, shut off the tub and let it drain. If the whirlpool had any sensations of its own, then Kevin was sure that it had to be very satisfied with the large liquid meal which he had just served it.

Stepping out of the expansive bathroom, Kevin's mind snapped back to the reality of the time and place he now occupied. He found that all of his clothes had been neatly hung and arranged at the front of his closet. He grabbed a pair of jeans and his favorite pullover sweatshirt. Dressing quickly, he noticed that his bed had been made up and there was a tray sitting on the bottom edge. On the tray was a pitcher of fresh juice, a filled glass, several different selections of his favorite healthy foods, and a folded note. He filled the glass and drank it in one gulp and then opened the note. It read, "Good morning, Kevin, please join me in the Parlor in which we met yesterday morning at your earliest convenience" and was signed "Dorian Chronos".

Morning! Kevin glanced up at the windows and noticed that, indeed, it was light now. He must have slept through all of yesterday. After a quick but filling breakfast, Kevin left the suite and retraced his steps from his arrival. The hall was as heavy and austere as the outside of the house. The polished stone walls were sparsely spotted with remarkably realistic painting of appropriately handsome individuals. Kevin noticed that they were all of men and that most of them represented well proportioned persons in various stages of disrobement. Unfortunately, none were of nudes. He did not stop to take too good a look but continued on and down the massive stone stair.

"Come in, come in." beckoned the familiar voice of his host from the opened double door at the bottom of the Foyer stair. "Welcome back to the real world my sleepy friend. Everything was OK for you? Did you get enough to eat?"

"Yes, thank you" Kevin responded politely and immediately moved to the main question at hand. "So is it now that I finally find out what all this is about and about your very strange comments about you and this "Stefan" guy?"

Of course, my friend." Mr. Chronos responded. "Please come with me. Let's get started answering your questions immediately."

"First, I assure you, again, that what I said yesterday is all true." Dorian continued as he invited Kevin through a set of doors at the far end of the room. "I know it's hard to believe but that doesn't make it any less truthful."

They entered a very large, many sided room with what must have been at least a fifteen foot high ceiling. At the far back center wall section was a full sized painting of a man wearing what appeared to be a military uniform - it was Mr. Chronos. Flanking it, on their own wall sections, were a series of extraordinarily well executed paintings of various famous bodybuilders from both the past and present, five in all, with one of Michael furthest on the left.

Each of the other men was in posing trunks. Kevin recognized all of them immediately. Each was positioned in what Kevin recognized from all his nights with bodybuilding magazines as their "signature" poses. There was a picture of the man that was the current reigning Mr. Olympia but, as with Michael's he was much smaller in the painting than he was today. Kevin finally recognized Steve as one of very first "famous" bodybuilder's from the mid 1950's. The face was the same, but there was no comparison between the old movie-star body and the one the man currently possessed.

Then there was Mark something-or-other. Kevin remembered seeing him on TV in a lot of those Italian gladiator movies in from the 60's. Finally, there was a painting of Robert Summers, the first major black bodybuilding star. He had opened the door for so many others in the 1980's by winning just about every title back then. Only the 1970's seemed to be missing from the line-up.

The picture of Michael was exactly as Kevin had remembered him from ten years ago. Every painted muscle was beautifully contoured and seemed reflect its own light from within. Graceful lines flowed flawlessly into dark shadowed valleys as one globe of refined muscled massiveness moved into the next major mass of equally sharp meat. Kevin's groin began to react again just as it had a decade ago upon viewing this lovely vision of physical accomplishment.

As his loose pants began to tent out, Kevin shifted his view to the painting of the current Mr. `O' in a futile attempt to stop the instant muscle growth that he was experiencing in his groin. The body upon which that handsomely smiling image sat was very nice, but very dated in its look. The posing trunks were wide and covered so much more than those used today but they could still not hide the fact that he had, as could be seen in today's magazine pictures of him, quite a lot to hide. The man looked smooth but astoundingly aesthetic. Large muscles moved fluidly into other large muscles. You could almost feel the body dancing through its poses. The vacuumed waist was so small and hallow as if not to exist at all. It was the painting of an exceptionally beautiful man. The total effect merely added to Kevin's own dilemma of arousal.

"I see you like my work." Mr. Chronos interrupted the viewing noticing the growing affect on the viewer.

"That is where I intend to hang my painting of you" Mr. Chronos continued casually pointing to a blank panel on the far right "once it is finished. That will be your first assignment - to let me paint you as you are now."

"That's it! You brought me here to do a painting of me?" Kevin responded confused.

"Two paintings, actually. But that is only the beginning of the program." Dorian smiled with a handsome face of reassurance. "I have done two of each of these men. I believe you recognize most of them as the best bodybuilders of their generation. Well, my finely muscled young man, I am responsible for the success of all of them… and, I might add, am about to introduce your friend Michael to the world of muscle as the next great star."

"What does this have to do with me?" Kevin continued as the refocused conversation began to permit his cock to return to its' less aroused state.

"Well, I intend for you to be the next muscle great in a few years, about ten to be honest, and I want to sign you up and intend to be your exclusive trainer."

"But there is no way to get ahead today without doing all sorts of steroids and other drugs that screw up your body" Kevin responded with a sense of determination "and I don't, and won't, do any kind of drugs. Sure, I love bodybuilding and all the muscle stuff, but I refuse to turn my devotion into a destructive process! If you know anything about me, which you apparently do, you know that!"

"Yes, yes my dear young man." Dorian continued unaffected "You've seen Michael. You've seen how much bigger he has gotten. Yet, can you say that you saw any signs, any signs at all, of the traits that come from excessive drug use?"

Kevin thought. He remembered the wonderful events of that evening just about a week ago. His mind reformed the vision of the beautiful muscle giant that had appeared before him. He remembered the astoundingly defined size; the perfect definition; the fabulous hardness; and the passions and heat of the evening, but he had to admit that there were none of the telltale chemical abuse signs. Michael's skin had been perfect with no blemishes or acne - only fine, hot, paper thin skin glued directly on to hot hard muscle. His pecs had been fuller than any Kevin had ever seen and he remembered the solid, thick feel as his hands had glided over the perfectly formed mounds of meat, but there were no "bitch tits" surrounding the large, tasty nipples. And Michael's upper body had tapered continuously to that taunt, tiny waist with absolutely no "roid gut" billowing out that fabulous abdominal and oblique muscle.

Kevin nodded his agreement as he asked the obvious "But how is that possible?"

"Sit down my friend." Mr. Chronos went on as he moved behind a large desk in front of his picture and pushed something. The wall sections holding the paintings began to turn slowly. "It isn't, not in the world you understand. But it is here…and, please, be prepared for a bit of a shock."

Kevin's gasp must have been audible throughout the house as the opposite side of the walls came into view. Each contained the same picture - but it was not the same at all. Every one of the bodybuilder bodies was covered with exaggerated amounts of muscle - but, also, all of them were terribly distorted. The older the image, the more grotesque it looked. The bodies, while massively muscled, were covered with obvious tumors, pitting, welts, discoloration, plus they showed all the other traditional steroid abuse conditions in huge proportions - even Michael's. The one of Mr. Chronos was so distorted that Kevin had to swallow hard to keep from loosing his suddenly churning breakfast.

"What kind of crap is this!" Kevin demanded once he could speak without fear of vomiting.

"I told you there would be two paintings." This is the other one I have done of each of us here." Dorian became suddenly humorless. "I, honestly cannot tell you how all this works, I can only tell you that, because of the mixture of our semen with the paints on these canvases, any and all reactions that these gentlemen and I would have experienced through the taking of various chemical supplements are transferred into the image and we not only remain unaffected, but we also cease to age as long as the painting exists."

"This is not possible!" Kevin blurted.

"Oh, but it is, is!" Dorian assured "and I am proof of it. The first painting was me almost seventy years ago. It was done when I was 35 and first became involved in a unique experiment under force as a young gay male in the German concentration camps. I managed to survive simply because this experiment required a subject to be kept around for a long time. When the Russians closed in and liberated the camp, I managed to get away with the paints with which they were working and the rest is proverbial `history'."

"Steve was my first volunteer, There was not much left of his hometown after the war and he was pretty desperate when I discovered him. The idea of turning a starving but pretty young man like him into the great man he dreamed of becoming intrigued me." Mr. Chronos explained.

"I know this is a lot to swallow but, if you feel strong enough, please come with me to see one more thing." Dorian invited as he offered a reassuring hand.

Kevin got up weakly and appreciated the chance to get out of view of those disgusting paintings. They went down a long corridor and through yet another pair of doors. Sunlight poured into the expansive gym they had entered. As they walked in the sounds of metal weights clanging ceased and the four men present got up from the various equipment they had been occupying and turned to face the intruders.

But these were not mere men - they were the most astonishingly muscled human gods on which Kevin had ever laid eyes. The faces were all familiar as those in the many muscle magazines and in the paintings. Steve was there. His torso bare to the waist and dripping with sweat and honed muscle that would have served as enough for any two bodybuilders. He was drenched in as much muscle as Kevin had witnessed on Michael. And Michael. Was, indeed, there in all his equal glory. All of these magnificent specimens literally defined the term "muscleman". Kevin was in a room with more muscle than imaginable. And all of it sharply cut into unfathomable, aesthetic volumes outlined by the stark sunlight soaking the room.

"As I told you, Kevin" Mr. Chronos said interrupting the visual feast "They are all part of our training circle and you can see the truth of the results for yourself."

Kevin shook his head clear. Sure, this was something only dreams were made of in the mind of every young gay bodybuilder, but it was still the result of drugs - drugs and some kind of voodoo.

"I can't do this Mr. Chronos!" Kevin reacted. "I can't be part of this."

"That's not an unusual initial reaction my fine young friend." Chronos replied "But give it just a little time and if that's still the way you feel, then … off to home you will go. I promise."

Michael suddenly smiled broadly as the huge, hard body moved forward with amazing grace and threw two gargantuan arms around the new arrival. Kevin became enveloped in muscle so thick, dense and warm that he just wanted to let the giant absorb him so that he would become one with all the pulsing muscle.

"I'm so glad you decided to come." Michael said loudly and passionately as he lean in to the hug.

Kevin was momentarily in heaven once again but, once Michael's head was next to his ear, Kevin heard him whisper "Don't be stupid, if you try to leave now, the only way you'll get home is in a casket." •

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