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Pictures of Dorian's Gays, The
|It's muscle show time at the house of Dorian's gays. If the pending unveiling of Kevin's perfect muscle painting isn't enough, then let's throw in a muscle show unlike any other with a surprising finale. Respectfully offered comments are always appreciated.|
|A double dose of an amazing muscle adventure had been promised by Mr.
Chronos for today. The big day had finally arrived for both Kevin and
Michael. The last four days had been absolutely crazy as everyone
shifted into high gear and had worked out alone to get to today.
Tonight, much to Kevin's chagrin, his paintings would officially be unveiled and he would have no choice left but to begin his drug- assisted, decade-long climb to the ultimate muscle throne. Dorian had already outlined a frightening program of brand new steroids, growth hormones and performance enhancers that were not even available to the public He promised this would add over 200 pounds of new muscle to the newly time-frozen young mans body.
But, first, Michael was to premier the posing routine designed to showcase this newest muscle dream to the world of muscle-starved young men. Chronos said that Michael had been on an accelerated stimulant program for the past few days designed to strip his body of any superfluous non-muscle related elements while, Dorian promised, adding yet another 10 to 20 pounds of glorious muscle to his overall development. If true, this would put Michael in the 400 pound range of pure sinew and muscle.
In view of accelerated public desires world-wide for more and more muscle on the new professional giants, Chronos had determined that it would be beneficial to push Michael even further than initially planned and so all stops had been pulled out on the promotion of "Michael - the amazing muscle machine" - at least that was what was programmed to be his tag line.
They gathered in the small auditorium at the main house that usually served as a private movie theater. The screen had been removed to reveal a rather large stage. Lighting had been coordinated and set to show a perfectly muscled body to it's greatest advantage. Having removed them from their typical hanging place and forming a sort of a half circle at the back of the stage, the original "clean" paintings of Dorian and the five other long-time residents were present. In the middle at the back, still covered, were the two paintings of Kevin for use in tonight's ceremony.
Kevin had been escorted to the theater by Mr. Chronos himself. Mark, Bob and Jeff were already there. Kevin took a seat in the front row next to Mark and Bob with Jeff sitting quietly behind them. Dorian went directly up to the podium off to one side of the stage. The house and stage lights immediately dimmed and a solitary spot shown down on their self-anointed benefactor.
"Well, guys," he began "I think you're going to find that you are in for quite a treat. As has been traditional, we like to send our latest conqueror out into the world of muscle competition by letting him give his first official performance here for all of us."
"This year is no exception" Dorian continued. "Michael has worked long and hard to move away from us into the public. Now tens of thousands of muscle starved boys and men may see what, with `proper support', they can aspire to become. As most of you know, there is a world full of anxious, muscle hungry young men out there and they yearn for a new `God' to become the centerpiece for their lustful driving force."
"What you are about to witness goes beyond anything you have conceived and imagined. We have had Michael in an isolated program for these past few days. With Steve's assistance over the past couple of years, I am pleased to announce that we have developed new enhancements to our various support products that can potentially add tens of pounds of muscle in just months instead of years. Michael has been a part of this experiment these last days and the results, as you shall see, are nothing short of astounding."
"Sure, we still have as few side-effect bugs to work out, but, as you know, that doesn't affect us, so you are the perfect persons to test what, someday, will be possible for others." Dorian added. "Anyway, enough of my initial comments. What say we get started!"
With that, the center of the stage glowed with a line of sharp crisp light from directly overhead and the cape-draped figure of the huge muscle-sheathed Michael stepped under the lights. Even fully shrouded as he was, the width of the material promised a spectacular show. Michael assumed his place as Dorian turned back to the podium.
"I promised you something special this time," he started again. "Well, here it is!"
With that, a second draped figure stepped on to the stage. It was Steve. The draped German giant assumed a matching position of the stage next to Mike.
"As I said, much of the accomplishment you are about to witness on Michael is because of the work Steve has permitted me to do with him. I can also tell you that Michael is so far ahead of the curve now in the muscle game that we faced the real problem that we could actually suffer a loss of interest since there would be no real competition for him. So I have decided to release Steve to the world, too. He will be introduced as his own `grandson'. Just imagine the marketing possibilities. The world of muscle will reach new heights of desire and prominence as these two giants stir the competitive arena into a new frenzy."
"After all, we have magazines to sell." Dorian continued. "Magazines full of ads promoting the products that have become so integral to our organization. We have memberships that need to be maintained in our health clubs and suppliers who depend on the salivating, hormone driven young male bodies world-wide to aspire to "be like Mike" (he added with a smile).
It all hit Kevin like a ton of bricks! So, that was the game! Somehow Mr. Chronos was the main man behind a large chunk of the worldwide muscle and related stimulant industry today.
Sure, suddenly it all made sense!
Make the drugs! Own the biggest magazines! Run a string of muscle- head gyms! Introduce the muscle starved young bodies to expensive, often illegal, supplements! Even control the major contests!
Of course! Chronos had access to more than just the magical paints when he was liberated those many decades ago, he had access to the experimental drugs themselves that they had used on him and those other poor souls who were lost! Rather than destroy those disgusting chemicals, he had, apparently, used them to build what had become the basis of today's steroid and growth industry. There must have been a huge fortune made in enticing innocent young men to wanting to be big at any cost! And all this promise with just a little help from your friendly neighborhood supplier…and many of them linked to the always improving lines of drugs being developed by Chronos himself.
To top it all off, he had his personal bevy of "perfected role models". The apparent epitomes of muscledom were nothing more than the greatest of his marketing tools! Didn't every boy - gay or straight - dream to be like the greatest muscle god on the planet? And Dorian manufactured them to his own specifications; safe from the very side-effects they promoted.
So what about the long-term damage to the muscle-craving young bodies! To hell with the life-shortening affects on the many innocent victims! There was a fortune to be made over and over again … and Chronos was positioned to keep making it!
And here Kevin was, another one of the damned!
The very thought sickened Kevin more than anything else had in this perverted endeavor to date. Well, won't Mr. Chronos be surprised when he finds out what he and Michael have up their well-muscled sleeves!
That thought, alone, kept Kevin from reacting to his sudden and sickening understanding of this speaking horror that pretended to be a man.
Kevin strove to maintain his composure as Mr. Chronos continued.
"So, guys" Dorian finally concluded "Here they are - the muscle of tomorrow - today!"
The light over the podium went dark and a swell of dramatic music with a heavy base beat began to rise in the background as both of the shrouded images on stage became the center of attention.
"Oh, shit" Bob reacted involuntarily as the two blankets of heavy material fell simultaneously to the stage floor.
There was no stage. There was no backdrop. There was no music. There was only muscle! Two twin towers of muscle so large as to defy belief - even to those who had lived decades where they should know better.
Dorian had understated the gains. Each man matched the other: inch for monstrous inch; pound for beautiful pound; and muscle for glorious muscle! At 410 pounds each, they were, indeed, sights to behold as instant erections introduced themselves throughout their audience.
Even Kevin forgot his most recent shocking discoveries as he became overwhelmed by the array of white-hot muscle before him.
Both men on stage assumed the traditional "relaxed" position as readied shoulders broadened and torso widths expanded beyond their already impossible dimensions. Columns of legs arched and anchored themselves to the ground. The waists all but disappeared between masses of upper and lower muscle so full that only the visible strength within the unrelaxible abdominal and obliques muscles insisted on affording the tight waists the credit they deserved for uniting these volumes into their human wholes.
A mere ribbon-width of a silvery waistband draw a slim metallic pencil line around the extremely narrow girdle of flesh connecting the upper and lower sections of muscled sinew. At front and center this covering balled out into full bumpy half globes as the shiny, textured material stretched so hard across the massive, massive soft cocks and balls that their own true flesh color could be seen showing between the opened gaps in the silver container. Because of the size of their maleness, fully half the horizontal expanse of the men's groins were covered by the size of the crotch containing material.
Something in the beat of the music alerted both men to begin the slow raising of both arms to horizontal extensions. The triceps boiled into gigantic inverted snail-shell shapes the size of watermelons. Curving lines of roped coils rounded their way ever outward below the arms from elbow and shoulder achieving more than eight inches of vertical thickness at their centers. The steeply angled light caused the rich, binding veins to show as if the sculpting butcher had wrapped the monster slabs of meat with heavy rope. Rather than ending at the bottom of the exposed arms, the bellied bodies of muscle simply disappeared under their own shadow to wrap around to the unseen back side of the arms.
A deep sharp line announced the division between the voluminous triceps and the burgeoning biceps atop them. This separation of muscle by muscle was amplified by the overshadowing promise of volume by the biceps themselves. The deep dark separating line was, itself, split into two distinct horizontal parts as hemp-thick veins ran their length as if forced there by the two giant muscles that depended upon the sizable channel for their unending feeding demands.
Another change in the beat signaled the start of the movement of the football-sized muscle-stuffed forearms toward the vertical. The always-mooned tops of the biceps began their taunting gyrations toward full-mooned prominence. Perhaps multiple moons would have been a more accurate description. As the rigid solidity of the unyielding forearms and shoulders insisted on maximum bunching of the biceps equally dense meat, they grew upward and forward in the only directions left to them.
The Jupiter scaled frontal moons finally gave birth to secondary upper moons as they, too, re-separated into crevasse curved linear hillocks on all four unfathomable arms. Before long four sets of 33" of virtually skinless densely packed muscle consumed the salivating visions of all the onlookers. Bluish cables of veins were brought to corresponding fleshy redness by the resulting pumping of rockened flesh as forearms writhed back and forth pushing the peaked mountain top biceps ever higher until, indeed, they actually rose to come in contact with the clenched fists driving them ever upward.
Audience hands shuffled noisily over steely hard cocks. The masturbation rhythm quickened when Steve actually opened his constricted fingers and began to embrace the tops of his triple-hand sized biceps while keeping them fully contracted and peaked. Forearm muscles rippled as they supplied strength to the manipulating fingers as Steve tried to drive his own fingers into the rocks of the personally sculpted meat of his own refusing biceps. The spectators own hand movements grew into a frenzy at the thought of having so much muscle as to be able to stroke your own yearning bicep with it's own corresponding connected hand.
Michael joined into the visual game as the arms of both men became a dance of muscle fighting against it's own muscle. The flexing Gods turned with astounding grace so that their thickly etched backs were now to the astonished audience. The view-consuming chiseled double biceps were further complimented, rather than reduced, by the beachballed rear deltoids. If the biceps were the moons of Jupiter, then the shoulders were the planets themselves. The global outlines of the rock-surfaced delts literally ejected themselves from, above and between the trench-deep trapezius and the multi-split biceps.
It was only now that the spectators realized that the silvery posing trunks were, indeed, made of a metal netting of chainmail. Only the links of a single chain strap extended all the way around as the waistband. At the rear center, an equally thin single chain extended down vertically and disappeared into the otherwise nude ass cheeks. The result from the rear was a combination of erotic and excitingly torturous.
Then, during one of the arm bicep pumping arm extensions, the two giants interlocked their near forearms and both used the impossible strength of the other to force the contraction of each stupendous upper arm to new unimaginable limits under the pressure of a standing arm-wrestle Already multiple-split biceps peaks split, yet again, as fibers threatened to exit the very skin containing them. Every muscled strand assumed visible identity under the sheer flesh-tone covering. Shoulders matched in veracity as they mushroomed to explosive, divided proportions in the shared man-against-man struggle.
The strain exerted as each arm fought for full contraction in spite of the efforts of the other translated directly down into the visibly pulsing, undulating back muscles on each stupendous body. Stripped erectors fought to keep each upper mass vertical as they fingered themselves like tensile claws into the base of the corded lats. The lats themselves were so broad and thick that they began to sweep out from a horizontal position above the invisible waist and fanned up in a visual cross between aesthetic, striated stingrays and thickly crystallized giant clam shells. Each muscled fan side stood out fully one and one-half times the width of the waist.
The immense power applied through the connected arms sent a display of muscle activity shooting through each extended latissimus marvel that, in any other human would have resulted in tearing of the arm off the challenger. The spasms of muscular movements rocked down and into the rock-terraced gluteal composites. Each crafted posterior mound clenched and crested as if a series of limestone plates were being subjected to laterally applied tectonic forces. As the small hips of each collossus shifted to secure the position of the fighting muscles, the ass muscles responded with clenched control that wrote the definition of the word striation as shadowed lines of power erupted across their cleft ridged masses.
As the audience watched the inhuman struggle of clenched fibrous assault, they could not help but note the promise being offered as the horizontal waist chains began to show forced signs of movement as the vertical center chain drew the waistband lower and lower into the shadowed canyon between the mountainous ass striations. Clearly, the onlookers were not the only ones being stimulated by the assault of impossible muscle by opposing impossible muscle. The limestone piled ass cheek mounds turned to granite as they sought to capture and control the pull of the chains dragging through the base of the invisible, deep valleys. The rocky sides formed bottomless craters as each man struggled to trap and secure the slipping vertical chain links tripping across their sensitive dream-holes.
Responding again to the music and as if to shift to another diversion as the clasping cheeks, apparently began to accept failure in their endeavors, the men released their mutual hold and began to pivot toward one another. As they did so, the fully steeled arms came down toward each side and then moved back. A new struggle ensued as bulbous mounds of latissimus meat was attempted to be crushed by equally compelling triceps volumes as hand sought wrist behind the small of the tight lower backs.
The first visible sign of the promises offered by the turn was the reflection of light off of the tops of the mounded pectoral protrusions. As if to emulate the vanishing ass muscles, the nearer pecs came into view as piles of compressed overhanging layered cliffs of muscle. As with the rocked outcrops overlaying a Pueblo village, the projections overshadowed each lower projection up past the midpoint of the rising monsters. Then, they cut back in a graceful curving of cut layers finally diving in horizontally just under the chiseled chins at the base of each handsome smiling face. The cantilevered effect out from the invisible abdominal saturated ribcages carried the bouldered breast mounds out a full 10" beyond the upper front facade of each man.
The clasping hands performed the reverse effect on the canyon-deep horseshoe triceps as they arched back another 8" beyond either the elbow joint or the connection point with the striped shoulders. By the end of the spin, over almost 30" of solidified muscle carved the thickness of the side of each upper body. Backs, pecs and lats added up to a never-before-conceivable 72" of upper torso diameter - and all of it pure muscle.
With wrists clasped tightly behind each breathing statue, the viewers were left to marvel at the amazing image of this much upper muscle sitting atop a side waistband that could not have been more than 6" from front to back. The translation of scale of five times the upper thickness set on the minuscule girdle only served to further exaggerate their astounding accomplishment of muscle gain and definition.
To amplify the effect, the pinned upper legs blew ever outward from the impossibly small waistband to their own commanding 18" thick presence as over 40" of thigh girth fought to bring itself crushingly adjacent to its rear partner. The leg biceps rounded out like fully pulled bows and drew vertical lines from their outermost crests directly down from the crowning point of the carved gluteal marvels.
The groan of metal under stress brought attention away from the boggling array of displayed muscle to the two mounded crotches. The cantaloupe of the near testicle of each man dangled round and fully exposed in front of the horizontal section of single chain that had been pulled forward underneath by the pressure of the visibly expanding cocks. The balls were painfully solid and cut into their two distinct globes as the intervening strap of metal was pulled forward and upward by the expanding male tools. The mesh baskets that had been intended to constrain the sleeping giants was no match for their desire to be fully aroused.
Each of the creaking containers stood out almost as far as the mountainous pectorals perched far above. Endeavoring to continue with the scheduled program, as the music moved to a new beat, the men, now facing each other, began to lean forward while holding the same poses. When it seemed as if they would were sure to fall over, they clenched hard and sudden. Pec muscles shot ever further as the two opposing sets of solid breasts crashed together. Even joined as they were, the depth of the pounded muscles kept the two faces a full foot apart.
The image of pumped pec supporting pumped pec sent a new frenzy into the hands of the viewers. The primping Gods of muscle moved into a series of alternating pectoral flexion and relaxation as they took turns sinking into and then flexing away from each other. The massive pecs began to handlessly massage one another as fans of honed muscle rocked and then, densely caressed the equally sensual musculature of the opposing quaking giant.
The muscled behemoths shifted and slid their pulsing pectorals as muscled bundle after visibly muscled bundled pushed each of the writhing volumes around and over each other. Soon each of their hardened nipples tripped and tickled together and apart in the rhythmic movement. The result of the manipulation of sensitive nipple by another aroused nipple was only to be expected.
Metal creaked against metal as the two expanding male members finally pushed forward with enough of their own newly-gained blood-fed strength to bring each container in contact with the other. Sensing this, both flexing, undulating giants thrust their hips forward so that the contact was full and hard as the steel fabric screamed under the threat of oncoming fatigue. Ass cheeks clenched harder still as they made one last desperate attempt to keep the invading steel chain from digging further into the depths between the sacred mounds.
Finally, in the challenge of carbon hardened metal against man- hardening muscle, the growing column of muscle won as one of the links in the trapped connecting chain gave way to the increasing tubular pressure of Michael's cock and the entire steel basket flew off of the growing giant. It crashed into the equally hardening pole that was forming under Steve's metal container with a loud clang and fell to the floor in defeat leaving Michael's member to complete its assent.
Not wanting to be left out of the process, Steve reached down with his back hand and, grabbing the waistband of metal, pulled mightily as it, too, surrendered to the greater forces of inhuman muscle.
The growth of the uncontrollable heated organs pushed by one another and soon extended to the groin of the fellow combatant. Using one last simultaneous pec flex, the two musclemen pounded themselves back up to standing positions in an amazing display of pure muscle control. The audible slap of flared cock head against cock head as they re-passed each other in reverse sent both instruments into further hardening side-ward waves.
Within no time, both expansive tools stood full, stiff and consistent in scale and hardness with the muscles attached to their respective owners. As with the rest of the magnificent bodies, their cocks were almost a matched pair. Steve's newly attained 17" of stiff horizontally pointing maleness seemed as equally foreboding as Michael's 18" upward curving power-pole. Neither was less than 4" in diameter as it emerged from the rigidly muscled groin and both maintained their girth for virtually the full length of the vein encrusted shafts.
Steve's phallus dove into a gentle taper just under the gloriously crimson crown as the bottom of the helmeted head was deep sharp and broad - shooting out sharply to over 4 ˝" across. The bottom of the fat cap curved up to meet the straight top portion at an inviting long vertical piss-slit. If the others had thought it was immovable when rigid before, it was now anchored as if cast in place. Once triggered, only its ultimate release from within could dislodge this cannon from its' mounting.
Michael's maleness was nothing short of impenetrable unless authorized. Along its 18" length, the self-controlling monster retained the full 4" diameter until, about 1/3rd of the way along the trunk it actually began to thicken another full inch across as the resulting torpedo shape then fluidly curved back down to 4" before it entered into the back of the 5" wide, moonlike, tilted mushroom head. While just as strongly anchored as Steve's, Michael could, and did, taunt the spectators with muscle controls that caused the giant shaft to pulse and wave its' excitement.
The two men instinctively reached out to the opposing member and cupped the gleaming heads in their respective hands. Michael gasped at the stiffness he met as his exploring fingers wrapped around and behind the bulbous cap cleavage. His thumb moved gingerly across the protruding veins that emerged from the hatted giant and snaked thickly along the top of Steve's steely piped marvel. Precum pushed open the large slit at the end as if to announce that this inhuman creation was filled with human need after all.
Steve's hand moved all the way in to the groin and grasped as much of Mike's column shaft as possible. His arced hand glided solidly the full length of Michael's curved organ and relished the feel as its' width grew between his strong fingers as he approached the ungodly crowning mushroom. The thought of the threat of Michael's double- girth muscled monster invading his striation protected posterior drove Steve to such muscle aroused intensity that every expansive surface fiber jumped to full glory below his vanishing skin.
Michael's self-induced rhythmic cock waves and pulsing sent renewed shivers of delight through all of Steve's delicious muscles. The quaking body reactions only intensified as Steve fondled the extraordinary leading opening and began to insert his own forefinger into the inviting wetted hole at the end of Mike's weapon. The dance of the 18" reinforced explosive device pumped the widest part of the impossible girth out another half an inch in diameter as Steve's strong fingers fought to retain a grip on the hot steeled shell encasing.
Michael reacted in his own aroused state of exaggerated lust with the placement of his free hand on Steve's vibrating pec just under the erotic nipple as the massive amounts of contained breast muscle quivered back in its' own sensual anxiety. Ungodly strong fingers tried to penetrate a pectoral muscle density forged to diamond hardness in the fires of Vulcan's own furnace. Only the excited spastic vibrations of the hot blood-fed meat signaled its' human belonging. Under the pressures applied by the prying fingers, the stiff nipple filled hard to bursting with the same sense of arousal that the entire body under it was experiencing.
The viewers signaled their mutual approval of this special muscle and lust show by sending waves of cum cascading on to the stage floor as if offering their own flower seeds to the performers.
Not to be left out, Dorian stepped in between the entwined piles of undulating muscle and prodigious cocks on the stage. He lifted his arms up as if to join into the cock worship. Just as his hands came down toward both astounding poles, Kevin noticed the syringes as they met and punctured the seemingly impenetrable marvels.
The last things Kevin remembered were the expulsion of yet another load of muscle-worship induced cum and the prick of a needle on the back of his neck.
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