He sat down against the wall and tried to get his head around what was happening. He had no idea where he was or why he was here. He had probably been taken by one of the myriad warlords who had cropped up to fill the power vacuum left by the final disintegration of Yugoslavia/Serbia. And then there were the malitia men. Paul hadn’t seen one who could have weighed less that 330lbs. He had heard news reports of teenagers being abducted from local villages and brainwashed to fight for their captor warlord; even rumours of them being pumped full of ‘roids to increase their strength and aggression, turning them into crazed fighting machines. These were never confirmed and had been dismissed as propaganda. But the evidence was here. These men were not naturally that big and the evidence of heavy ‘roid use was obvious to anyone who had trained in a hard core gym. But even massive use of the juice could not produce the kind of muscle mass exhibited amongst these guards. They must be using something else as well and whatever it was it was orders of magnitude more effective than anything Paul had heard of before. There were noises on the other side of the door and he quickly scrambled to his feet.

The door opened and a couple of the guards entered and stood either side of it. They leered at Paul, obviously remembering the earlier sex. The one on the left, who Paul recognised as the man who had fucked his face earlier, grabbed his left wrsit with his huge right hand, gripping it between his thumb and middle finger which were not able to meet around the thick joint. Slowly he slid his hand up his massive forearm, his finger and thumb being forced farther apart and up over his bulging bicep and coming to rest in the canyon between his peaked bicep and bowling ball sized delts.. The imagery was unmistakable and Paul shuddered at the thought of this monster’s enormous forearm stretching his ass beyond its capabilities.

From the gloom behind them emerged a man Paul had not seen before. He was taller than the others, although at approx. 6’2” he was still 8” shorter than Paul but where Paul had a good gym built physique this man was immense. He must have weighed well over 500#. He looked significantly more muscular that the other guards: not just taller but proportionately thicker and wider. His shoulders were vast, over 3 and a half feet wide and massively thick, each capped by 3 squashed bowling ball sized lobes that were his front, mid and rear delts. But even this inhuman width was not enough to allow his arms to hang straight by his side. The bulging melon sized muscles of his biceps and the thick knotted ropes of his triceps clashed with his pecs and lats and forcing his arms out to hang away from his body. His forearms were larger than Paul’s not insubstantial thighs and connected to huge wide hands. His waist was thick by the standards of normal men but seemed absurdly slender on this behemoth. It was cobbled with bricks of hard muscle, which caused his shirt to bunch in the valleys between the muscles accentuating their definition. Above, his thick pecs swept down from his collar bones fighting for space with his delts, biceps and abs. The cleavage between his relaxed pecs was a good 5” deep the overhang above his abs at least 8”. Through the shirt, Paul could just see his nipples protruding from the crease beneath his pecs. At the open neck of the shirt a dense mat of thick black hair could be seen covering his chest. His traps formed great buttresses, engulfing the lower half of his head up to his ears and his neck was thick as a beer keg. He had cropped black hair and a dense five o’clock shadow over dark skin and this, combined with the pronounced eyebrow ridges and dark eyes gave him a brooding brutish look.

He crossed the room towards Paul, the lights above him casting deep shadows beneath his huge pecs. His steps were slow and deliberate as if he had to think about the act of walking. His thighs were so large that it was impossible for him to walk as a normal man. The great mass of one thigh had to swing out and around the bulk of the other causing him to walk with an accentuated rolling gait. Paul was sure he could feel his footfalls causing tremors in the floor as he walked. He stopped about 2metres away from him and spoke to one of the gorillas in a language Paul did not understand. He handed the big man a bundle of papers which Paul recognised as his travel documents. He took them, extracted Paul’s passport and let the remainder fall to the floor. The sound was loud against the stillness of the room, the only sound being the heavy breathing of the steroidal guards. He opened Paul’s passport with his thick fingers and looked up into his face.

“Australian I see”, he said. His voice was deep and his English only slightly accented. “You are a long way from home. Why do you come to my master’s domain.”

Paul was too stunned by events to reply. “No, that is not important.” He continued. “You are here now and under my master’s jurisdiction. I am Goran, commander of the Kraje malitia, trainer of my master’s malitia. You are now subject to his rule; Obey him, which means me also, you will be safe and rewarded. Disobey his authority and the consequences will be painful and messy.”

He started to walk around Paul looking up and down his large frame. Paul was proud of his body. He had grown tall at a young age but his playing rugby had forced his body to grow strong as well. When he left school and went to Uni he had started using weights to improve his game and had quickly built a good body proportionate to his 6’10 height. He was a big man, and enjoyed being so. It made him popular and attractive with both men and women wanting his body. Paul was more than willing to oblige as long as they too were large, well built and male.

“You obviously train you body.” Said the man. “That is important, I think, for men of great height. Tall men so often look weak and frail. I have plans for you.” He stopped pacing and continued, “We do not often get visitors from so far afield and seldom of such promising proportions. The others men from the bus will have their uses too but you are special.” He stood in front of Paul and, reaching up, clasped Paul’s jaw in one massive paw and squeezed. The force was gently applied but crushing and the pain caused Paul to wince. The man released him and smiling “When I have finished with you, that will seem as a light caress.”

“I was going to send you to the ranks of the guards with the other men” he explained to Paul “they burn out so quickly with the training, that we need to constantly replenish our forces. But I will keep you for my master’s household staff. You have a fine physique and great height. You have the potential, with the correct training to be special, to be one of my master’s elite.”

Paul was dazed. He was frightened and confused and wanted to be away from this place but he could not deny the masculine attraction of this man. Like most men who were seriously into lifting, Paul had was fascinated by muscle. He wanted it for himself and, even if he did not admit it, he lusted for it on other men. Here before him was the personification muscle and even given the threatening circumstances he was becoming turned on. Never before had he seen anyone so quintessentially masculine. It was like a drug, overpowering him, flooding his senses with desire and lust. This was new for Paul: It had always been his body driving other people wild with desire, him in control, but now he was feeling an insane desire overwhelming his mind and subsuming all rational thought.

The man smiled slightly, seeing the conflict in Paul’s eyes. He move close to Paul, his huge pecs inches from Paul’s abdomen, and ran his thick fingers up over his body as if inspecting a piece of livestock. Paul could smell his scent, the mixture of man and sweat. It seemed to be emanating from his body like a cloud of pure sex and it was driving him mad. The man knew the effect it was having; he should do, he had designed the mix of pheromones and pro-hormones and had blended it for just this reaction. It was a very effective means of control.

“Remove your clothes”, the man said to Paul. His tone of voice indicated it was not a request. Paul pulled off his tee shirt, baring his torso to the man’s inspection.

“I see from the bruises that they were rough with you” he said. “you should not have angered them, the results could have been much more serious had they not been instructed not to injure you.” He continued his inspection, prodding and probing at Paul’s body.

“Your arms are not as muscular as they should be for a man of your size. That must be corrected.” Paul had been proud of his 19” arms but when this man raised his left arm in front of Paul’s face and flexed it, he knew what muscular development was. It wasn’t his puny 19” or even the 28” of Greg Kovac’s arms which had now won him the Mr.O for the last 8 years straight since 2003. It was biceps larger than your head, thicker than your waist, ballooning like water melons so that the arm could not bend past 90 degrees. It was a war between plates of muscle battling for territory into which to flex and expand. It was something that had been beyond Paul’s imagination; until now.

“Remove your jeans…….. Your legs are very long and so look thin. They also require more mass. That too must be corrected” Paul looked at this man’s legs encased in tight denim. The thick cloth did nothing to hide their monstrous size nor the deep cuts between the slabs of muscle. As he shifted his weight on his feet, great waves of contractions caused the material to stretch and distort. It revealed to Paul, when compared to real muscle, how inadequate his body actually was.

What was happening to him. Paul was getting frightened and excited. This place was turning out to be some kind of Balkan “Island of Dr. Moreau” and that he was about to become one of the experiments. What they could do to him terrified him, yet the implication was that the guards, and probably this man too, were part of the experiment. If so, the thought of becoming like them was filling his pheromone twisted mind with insatiable lust.

Paul was becoming incoherent; the proximity of this man was turning him on, overwhelming his senses and reason; he was becoming blinded by lust. The man smiled; he knew his power and enjoyed using it. He could bend any man’s will to his. It was a side effect of his change, his sweat exuded vast quantities of pheromones which triggered uncontrollable sexual urges in those men exposed to it.

With his thick fingers, he casually rubbed his crotch through the heavy denim. He held his hand up to Paul’s face and shoved two of the fingers into his mouth. It was like Paul had been given a mouthful of pure testosterone. His cock swelled to its full 8” and he grabbed the man’s hand and began licking it. He need more and started sucking at the man’s arm, licking the sweat from his skin and washing the dense black hair with his tongue, getting more and more lust crazed as he drank more of the pheromone doped sweat. He tried to grab the man around the chest, to get as much of his body in contact with this behemoth’s, but even his huge arm span was insufficient to encircle that barrel chest. He was becoming frantic. The man pushed him back and held him at arms length.

“Tell me what you want “ said the man fixing his eyes on Paul’s eyes. “What do you need”

Paul was finding it difficult to think. All he knew was that he wanted this man, to feel his power and strength inside him, to please him, to be like this hulk. When he tried to speak the only word he could frame was

“Muscle”

The corners of the man’s mouth twitched imperceptibly, This new subject was ideal. He had a huge frame which would be capable of accommodating massive amounts of muscle but more importantly, he was a muscle pig. He desired muscle so greatly that he would do anything for it. That would make things easier. A willing subject would be much more successful in the treatment than a recalcitrant one. “If all goes well, my master will be very satisfied with the results.” He thought.

Paul dived back at the man’s body, trying to get his tongue into the dark moist depths of his arm pit. The man obligingly lifted his arm revealing the cavern formed between his lat, pec and arm, and the dense bush of moist black hairs hidden within. Paul dived in, the whole of his head fitting into the void. The scent was overpower, his tongue was everywhere, spit drooling and wetting the man’s pit. His hands groped the body, as if trying to fathom its enormity, His groin crushed itself against the man’s denim encased thigh, desperate for release, rubbing itself raw in the frenzy.

The man lower his arm slightly, trapping Paul’s head, squeezing it. “I could crush you like an egg” he said pulsing the muscles of his lats and pecs to emphasise the point. “But that would be a waste. Whilst you obey me you will be safe. But remember it is always within my power to obliterate you. You will become one of us now, a servant to our master, your only purpose to serve him. You will undergo the treatment we have perfected. If you perform well you will become one of the bodyguard, if not you will join the malitia guards. I’m sure,” he said glancing at the two guards “that they would welcome such an impressive playmate.”

Paul grunted. He had heard what the man had said but was incapable of understanding in his current state. All he could think about was having this man, bathing in his masculinity and taking what ever he was willing to give. Paul felt the man reach down and heard fly buttons being popped. He slid his face down the man’s body, his tongue tracing a wet trail across the fabric of his vest, until he came to his belt. With fevered impatience he undid the belt and waist button and began to peel the denim off the man’s hips and huge bubble butt. The cloth was stretched tight and the flesh beneath was rock hard; Paul struggled to uncover the man’s crotch but slowly he inched the jeans down the enormous thighs revealing a thick tangle of black hair from which grew the 3” wide base of his cock. It was still soft but growing in size and hardness and was held tight against his left thigh by his jeans. Paul uncovered a few more inches of thigh and cock, then a few more until finally the swelling of his cock head came into view. The musky smell of the man’s freshly uncovered crotch was more than Paul could bear. He tugged at the jeans and the cock sprang free. Released from its confines and now fully erect, it slapped against the man’s stomach and came to rest with the foreskin shrouded head nestling in the valley between his huge abs just inches below the overhanging pecs. He smiled and flexed his cock a couple of times causing it to thicken and for the head to push out of the foreskin. Precum was dribbling out the piss-slit and with each flex, a stream shot out wetting the hairs on the underside of his pecs.. It was about 14” long and over 4” across at the thickest point on its shaft. The head was the size of a large orange, quite pointed and with a pronounced ridge where it met the shaft. Veins criss-crossed its length down to the base where it met a huge hair covered scrotum containing a pair of grapefruit sized balls. They rolled in their sack as Paul watched, adjusting to their new freedom, and settled against Goran’s immense thighs. He dived onto the cock, forcing as much of it down his throat as he could, but it was just too big, He was able to just get the head into his mouth but his throat would not expand to let its girth slip down. He was driving his face towards Goran’s crotch, desperate to swallow that mammoth pole and please this man. Slowly and with pain his throat began to give way and the head slid pass the back of his tongue. Paul was too lust crazed to gag; that would only have delayed this face fuck further. He reached round and grabbed at the granite globes of this animal’s bubble but so that he could drag his face further down the pole. All his strength barely dented those massive glutes but it did subdue his throat and the cock slid down a further 4 inches.

“That’s it, you know you have to have it” rumbled Goran, his deep voice vibrating though his whole body and dick causing Paul’s throat to tingle. “Take it in and you will be rewarded.”

Now Goran grabbed Paul’s head and dragged it to his groin. Paul’s throat stood no chance against such raw power as the precum lubed shaft headed for his stomach. Paul couldn’t breathe but was past caring as his nose started sinking into Goran’s bush. He felt the cock expand and grow even harder, flexing in his throat causing his back to arch as the cock pushed against his spine, lifting him slightly.

“I’m going to cum” bellow Goran “Prepare yourself” the last words were a deep rumble which Paul felt through the cock; a rumble which continued after the words had stopped; a rumble which grew in intensity until the enormous cock stiffened and bucked practically throwing Paul off and cum erupted down his throat.

He came and came. Paul struggled to drag his face back up the cock to catch a breath. He felt his belly distending as the jets of cum filled him up to overflowing and began to force his face off the cock. As he withdrew, Goran’s cum spewed out Paul’s mouth and nose and drenched his pubic hair with the white lava. And still the cum spewed out of Goran’s gaping piss slit, soaking Paul’s face and chest.

Goran grabbed Paul’s arms and in a swift move lifted and turned him and shoved his still gushing rod up Paul’s ass. Paul was dazed having nearly passed out during the face fuck and slumped back against the behemoth’s chest. He lent there and as his legs gave way he impaled himself further on the 14” cum slicked rod invading his ass. Goran’s huge hands clasped Paul’s hips and slid him back and forth on his slick cock, cumming with renewed force from the extra stimulation. Paul had passed out, his limp body being used by Goran to wank himself off with. Even semi-unconscious, he was moaning softly and his cock was rigid and dripping cum. It had been leaking since the moment Goran’s huge dick first invaded his mouth and with each thrust of Goran’s hips another small spurt erupted.

Goran finally finished, not sated but boring with this play thing for the moment. He lifted Paul off his still throbbing member and let him fall to the floor, then he turned to the guards and continued his release using their huge bodies for his pleasure. At least with these he did not need to be gentle.

By the time he had finished with them, several hours later, Paul was regaining consciousness. Goran stood over him, his massive body pumped and flushed, his vascularity like a road map and said to the guards,

“Take him to the Medic, after the change I will be able to amuse myself with him more robustly.” •