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My Fair Man: A Muscle Musical
|Act One, Scene Seven
(The Gym at Higgins’ Home - Six months into the bet.)
"Is nothing above you, Pickering?" Professor Higgins yell resounded loudly enough to shake the array of wall mounted mirrors throughout the gym as they burst in on the two sweating bodybuilders..
"Muscle is business, Henry!" Pickering shot back. "If you want out of this challenge, just say so and I’ll take my winnings now."
"This is insane!" Professor Higgins continued. "What you propose is nothing more than a shameful ploy to sell tickets to the Nationals and neither my Mr. Dolittle or I won’t be any part of it."
"I am not asking you to agree, Henry." Pickering said matter-of-factly, I am simply being decent enough to make you aware of what you will face. Either the body you claimed you could create on ‘your’ Mr. Dolittle will be up to the challenge or it won’t. You’re already six months into the bet. I only got started on this a few months ago and, I promise you, we will be ready at the Nationals."
"Ready!" The Professor shouted with renewed vigor, bringing the working bodies on the far end of the gym to a complete stop. "You mean ‘manufactured’!"
"I am not the one questioning my methods of body development, Henry, you are." Pickering quipped back. "If you can’t produce the quantity and quality of muscle that will be needed for the Nationals, then you will loose - and that’s fine with me."
"I assure you, Hugh, the muscle sported by Elijah will redefine quality with true, honestly acquired quantity." Higgins insisted. "Just look at what we have already accomplished." (Signaling to Elijah and Pearce.)
The two men had just started their morning back workout today. Even with only one exercise done, the enormity of Elijah’s physic was stunning. At 270 pounds, he carried eighty pounds more of finely carved muscle than when he had started only half a year ago. Silently, Professor Higgins was grateful for the marvelous combination of natural metabolism and drive his charge possessed.
Pearce was now the obvious smaller of the two men. His 245 pounds of viscerally charged mass was nothing to sneeze about. Yet, now, the differences between the two bodies were becoming more and more visible. Where Elijah was a flowing sculpture of a beautiful balance between mass, volume and cut, Pearce was a image of muscle devoid of any non-necessary flesh between the thin veiling of skin and the crisply lined meat. The raw density of his muscle and tissue thinness of his skin forced the surfacing of extensively developed rivers of veining.
"I don’t deny your accomplishment to date, Henry." Pickering acknowledged. "I just wonder if you can achieve the level of muscle needed to win in today’s world of muscle."
Under the silent direction of their benefactor, the two gifted bodies moved over to the bent pull-up bar. Elijah strapped a thick leather waist belt above his impossibly narrow hips while Pearce acquired two 45 pound plates from a nearby rack. He slipped these onto the chain dangling from the front of belt and then went and got two more plates. These were then added as were a third pair of plates to complete the collection of applied resistance.
"What I am in the process of creating, when complete, will not only beat your manufactured marketing opportunities" Henry promised "but will bring new accreditation to people interested in healthy muscle gain."
The site of the all-but-nude muscleman strapped in a worn and tested leather waist harness with 270 pounds of cold steel hanging dangerously close to the base of the sacked fabric seeking to contain the massive testicles was hugely erotic. The considerable amount of weight pulled down hard through the chain forcing the buckling clamp of the leather band hard down onto the top of Elijah’s clothed basket. The constriction pushed the ample amount of wrapped meat down and forward as it resisted gravity’s attempt to damage the goods within.
"Henry, Henry, Henry," Pickering cautioned "You still live much too much in the past. Bodybuilding is big business today. I know better than most. After al, do I not run the biggest and most recognized and supplement chains in the world?"
Elijah shifted to adjust the balance of the chained weight. Pearce., with a sly smile, reached in and pushed one side of the tension packed chain out toward one side and away from the pinching threat it offered to Elijah’s right testicle. The grateful pounce rounded further outward as the chain links slipped behind the treasure package. The 29" vacuumed waist helped to exaggerate the scale of the forward flung pouch.
"Sure," Professor Higgins scoffed" mostly as a front to find poor, unsuspecting young men who you can hook into a ‘chemical plant’ lifestyle just to further promote your ventures."
Elijah reached up, stretching his huge upper body into a glorious sweep of extended muscle, and grabbed the angled-down ends of the waiting bar with his hands as far apart as possible. In a move as graceful as any performed by the greatest of ballet stars, Elijah tightened his grasp and began the upward flow of his body toward the horizontal bar far above his head. Soon, 530 pounds of combined weight hung freely as the shoulders and back of the muscle trainee began their assault against gravity.
The watermelon sized shoulder caps branched into cabled curves of individually bundled muscle. The collective rounded masses dimpled in deep shadows into their corresponding intersection with the horizontally ‘v’-ed traps. The upper reaches of the body-hidden pectoral promise showed as two thickly extended pillows of meat behind the thickness of the struggling trapezius muscles.
"The University certainly doesn’t seem to share your caustic view. They seem quite pleased and happy with my donations and with the assistance I can provide in advancing the physical abilities of their various sporting team members." Pickering taunted. "After all, they preferred the opportunities I offer them over those that you did."
The Professor’s appearance moved from stiff to cold at Pickering’s last comment.
In the early stages of Elijah’s chinning movement, the striations of the domed delts slithered under the fissuring skin like as series of fat snakes all moving in parallel from the coils of the horseshoe triceps into the base of the thick wall of Elijah’s neck. As the early parts of the movement progressed, the glory of the hugely bunched triceps slipped longingly along to make room for the presentation of the secondary actions in the balling of the peaking biceps.
"Why does it always have to come down to how you can advance yourself by reducing me, Hugh?" Professor Higgins finally challenged. "Don’t you have enough yet? Haven’t you ruined enough lives?"
Biceps and shoulders joined together as paired brothers of balled magnificence. Soon, two full moons of muscle mounded themselves on either side of Elijah’s head as the biceps and delts became fully constricted and advanced outward and upward in the only direction available to them for their massive growth. The lower bodies and tails of the surfaced snakes of shoulder muscle seemed to reappear from under the mountained biceps in the form of the writhing and creeping plethora of forearm muscles.
Then the planets of the two sides of the upper back formed below and in front of the two pairs of the moons of biceps and deltoids. The sweep of muscle distending out from the central vertebral core and arcing in an endless flow until it was interrupted by the coils of the triceps was numbing. The explosion of volume filled the field of vision as if a meat had been injected by a giant pump into the entire circle of space available as the multiple cut slabs of the upper body fleshed out to their full 60" girth.
The containing skin stretched itself to the very limit of its elasticity to both encase and contain the five foot pulsing mass of rich muscle. More and more arcs of meaty flesh formed under the uppermost volume like hands of muscle reaching out to hold the larger mass back onto the vertical cord of the spine. Then fingers of muscle emerged along the length of the vertebral column to assist against the desire of gravity to tear the writhing upper body asunder.
"I don’t ruin lives, Henry." Pickering retorted as he continued to witness the spectacle before him. "I create new options for others who are desirous enough to pursue them. That is what I am doing right now with Mr. Dolittle. I don’t seek to diminish you, Henry, on the contrary, I am constantly challenging you to grow. That is why you are always pursuing me - so that you can seek your next challenge. I am not your foil, Henry, I am your stimulator!"
As the brutally gained muscle fought for ultimate victory over the forces of gravity and applied weight, the meat screamed to be fed by life carrying nutrients. A light tracing of feeding veins graced the surface of the pulsing meat. These served to sharpen the image of strength by shearing the moving view of striation carved meat into finer and finer segments of granite-like tissue.
Pearce moved in closer, without blocking the view of the two spectators. He longed to reach out in contact with the hot, writhing, sweating tissue. He knew the feel so well from the many spotting assists he had provided. But, he dared not do so with the Professor present. Polishing sweat rolled down the channels created by the struggling striated meat.
The expansive sweeps of the lats formed into hardened shell-shaped casings as the body was lifted past the central part of the motion. Now, as glorious giant-clams, the latissimus muscles pulled themselves inward with their volume thrusting back toward the viewer as deeply fissured fans closing in on themselves. The vertical line of the central back became canyon deep under the pressure and a tree of branched muscle formed at the base of the lower back.
"And that is what you call this latest trick of yours for the Nationals, Pickering…" The Professor demanded "… a new way to ‘stimulate’ me?"
Elijah’s ass muscles had not been left out of the wonder of his growth. They had formed and chiseled themselves in striated splendor into erotically desirable masses of inviting, marbled accomplishment. Now they thrust this image into central view as they clenched into mounded magnificence designed to resist the arcing of the lower back forced by the pull of the tethered applied mass swinging dangerously below the awakened, invisible groin.
As the top of Elijah’s head cleared the lower reaches of the horizontal bar, the display of flesh at work to support the 530 pounds of resistance stood with each named muscle as clear as if rendered on an anatomy chart created in over-exaggerated imagery.
"Henry," Pickering pointed out "even you cannot deny the potential and spectacle of seeing both of the Dolittle twins in competition, head-to-head, at the Nationals."
"WHAT!" screamed the struggling mass of suspended muscle.
The sudden shock of the comment sent the massive body and the weight it carried crashing to the floor with a heavy thud. It was only the attentive spotting by Pearce that probably prevented injury or damage to the glorious figure.
Act One, Scene Eight
(The Gym at Higgins’ Home - a short time later.) The pumped sweating body of Elijah sat alone at the edge of a flat bench. After the Professor and Pickering had explained what was going to happen and left, Elijah had let the anger of the news and Pearce’s direction to channel it push him through one of the most intense workouts his body had ever endured. Following the workout, he just wanted some time to let his exercise-exhausted mind think it all through. Even in this semi-relaxed position, the pounding to which Elijah had subjected his body left him in a visual state of hardened sharpness. Every slight twist of his clasped hands sent his monstrous forearms and bulbous upper arms into a mind-shattering display of dancing muscle and veining. His 25" of attained upper arm circumference dripped in polished, balled splendor. The deep, deep crease at the base of his meloned biceps just above the joint of his elbow grew sharp and dark enough to hook an entire hand under. His triceps refused to relinquish their coiling striations as the springs of individually bundled fibers wrapped endlessly from rear elbow to disappear into the reaches of the upper back. Elijah’s lats flung themselves like a protective quilt around his upper torso with the inflated bottom edge of their massive umbrella casting the hard-breathing obliques into invisible shadow. The painfully cut abs were equally invisible under the balloons of breast meat that cantilevered out impossibly from under the down-turned chin. As with the arms, every slight twitch of the weighted shoulders sent convulsions of fanned muscle screaming through the tortured pecs. The shadow cast by Elijah’s head reached deep down into the canyon line of the vertical cleavage between his global wonders of tit meat. Sweat stained the sides of the central pectoral canyon walls. Every now and again, Elijah would unconsciously send one hand into the depths of that chasm to swoop out some of the river of wetness flowing at the buried breastplate. The very volume of pectoral mass he had created caused the exploring hand to disappear past his knuckles. The unthinking fingers were numbed too much by the troubled mind to enjoy the experience as they tripped past each hardened bundled of coiled, molten flesh. The downward movement of the hand between the dividing line of the pecs pushed the adjacent lined meat out as if an underlying wave of lava flowed deep inside the core of the muscles. Elijah’s legs twitched in reactive magnificence as they involuntarily responded to the sharp pains of debate soaring through the troubled brain. Each major section of the quadriceps, every massive teardrop of upper leg muscle and the rich cords of the inner thigh muscles pushed to burst through the vein tightened outer sheathing of skin. His knees sat far apart as Elijah’s continued to come to resolution to the new task at hand. The inner mountains of his meaty 21" calf muscles pounded up and down into severed balls as his feet tapped out the beating rhythm of the troubled thoughts within his mind. The tough tendons extending down the front of his lower legs to his trim ankles captured their own version of the same visual tune. The space between his knees was soon filled by the massiveness of his inner thigh muscles as the view moved into the shadowy area of his groin. The darkly shadowed outline of the stretched fabric of his trunks struggling to cover his massive testicles hung like a pair of silhouetted moons down in front of the leading edge of the bench. The outer curvature of his cloth covered mounded cock-head pushed deliciously out of the shadows to rest heavily on top of his balls and inner thighs. At any other time, this would have been an image to be ravished. As Freddie wandered in to do his daily clean-up, he instantly connected with the knowledge that this paragon of muscle-gain was shouldering a significant burden. Without moving his body, Elijah’s head snapped toward the noise at the sound of the gym door. "Oh, sorry to bother you Mr. Elijah." Freddie said taking a step back toward the door. "I’ll just come back later." "No, it’s all right, Freddie," Elijah responded quietly. " I need to go shower anyway." "OK, if your sure?" Freddie retorted. Freddie began to wipe down the weight bars at the far end of the room but the beautiful body didn’t move immediately. Instead, Freddie noted that Elijah seemed to drift back into himself in thought. Freddie tried to work quietly and at a respectful distance. Finally, he could not bear to see this proud godly form sit there in apparent mental anguish. Stepping cautiously over to the heaving collection of muscle, Freddie worked up the courage to speak. "Is everything all right?" He interjected in almost a whisper. "Is there anything I can do or get for you?" Elijah lifted his down-turned head toward the pleasant, sincere face. The onlooker seemed filled with honest and caring compassion. A sense of some initial relief sparked by this innocent desire to help moved into Elijah’s mind. Almost instinctively Elijah moved one hand from his knees and cupped Freddie’s near hand. "Thanks, Freddie, you just did?" Elijah smiled back as a confused look crept over Freddie’s face. Unknowingly, Freddie had succeeded where even Pearce had been unable to do so. Pearce had been able to help talk Elijah through that grueling workout, but still couldn’t get him to cross that line to take a little ‘supplemental assistance’. Pearce had suggested that maybe now was the time Elijah really needed to reconsider his stubborn refusal. "I’m OK. Really I am." The near-naked muscleman continued. "It was just such a shock when I found out that my brother, Alfred, has hooked up with Mr. Pickering and that they are planning to have him enter in the National’s against me in a few months." "What!" Freddie reacted in surprise and then, catching his need to help Elijah, forced himself into a calm and reassuring tone. "That won’t matter. You have a couple of months on him. Look at you. You, along with Pearce and the Professor have already built an absolutely outstanding body on you. There’s no way a ‘fly-by-night’ newcomer can beat what you have become." "You’re way too kind, Freddie, and I thank you for that." Elijah smiled back. "But I was a ‘newcomer’ only six months ago. apparently they started more than two months ago - the day after Alfred showed up here. Don’t forget, he’s my twin so he must have the same potential I do, plus, now he has access to all the drugs and supplements that Pickering has to offer. I don’t quite get it, Pickering seemed like such a nice man." "Oh, he isn’t bad, he’s just very tough when it comes to business … and playing ‘games’ with the Professor. I understand they have been like this for years. - ever since the Professor first became head of the Physical Education Department at the University." "I didn’t know the Professor worked with the University?" Elijah reacted with surprise. "He doesn’t anymore." Freddie responded. "He refused to let anyone play on any team who tested positive for any ‘foreign substances’. This did not play well with Mr. Pickering, who was, and is, Chairman of the Alumni Board. When several of the teams suddenly weren’t doing as well under the Professor with victories, Pickering got the Professor ousted. Ever since then there has been this constant rivalry." "That kind of sucks." Elijah insisted. "Yea, and right now, you are the Professor’s best hope." Freddie stated honestly. "I’ve never seen him so focused on one thing before. He has virtually ignored all his other private students and his practice to concentrate on you … and this victory over Pickering." "Well, then, I best not let him down." Elijah spoke with renewed vigor as he stood. :Let them try to beat this now! And just wait until Pickering and my brother see what they will be up against at the National’s. I’m going to be the biggest and best contender they have ever seen." Freddie did all he could to hold himself back as Elijah’s body swung into a magnificently pumped double biceps pose. The sweat glowing muscle covering the gargantuan figure erupted all over his body. Line after voluminously crafted line of honed rock fissured along the proud form extending from head to toe. The legs locked down into bowed arcs of wondrous meat as the 36" thighs ripped from groin to knees with intertwined steel cables of vein-wrapped flesh. The calf muscles chiseled into supporting columns of granite. Elijah’s waist tightened with crisply lined plates of flattened muscle wrapped inside an impossible small 29" container. The narrow, flat waist served to accentuate the size of the mounds of cock and balls wrapped within their invitingly small package of fabric. The volume of weight-created meat in the inner thighs forced the testicles way out in front of them and, thus, pushed the overlarge, soft cock dangerously toward exposing itself out from over the top of the elastic lining of the stretched fabric pouch. Then his arms mountained into rocky multiple peaks as the 25" of upper arm mass pushed the biceps to reach up toward the clenched fists above. Freddie dreamed of the impossible task of trying to surround those splendid mounds of diamond hard flesh with his two insignificant hands and hanging precipitously below the cascading dissent of the coiled triceps arcing endlessly below the upper muscle show. As if in response to Freddie’s unspoken dream, Elijah tensed his biceps and hardened their vision from rock to diamond. His equally stupendous shoulders formed into a series of sweeping bundles as they mounded over toward the beating arteries in his massive neck. Elijah’s lats flew out into curves of carved meat that draped down and in to tie back almost horizontally into the fingers of the multi-ribbed obliques. Stretching across the amazing width of Elijah’s front upper torso were the undeniable wonders of his pecs. The massive male vestiges of titular magnificence fleshed out the 60" muscular upper torso circumference and quivered invitingly under the enormous pressure being applied through them to the straining, painfully erotic mountains of the biceps. His excited nipples flipped drip after drip of flowing sweat off of the massive breast from their projecting ends. His mind reset and filled with renewed conviction, Elijah relaxed his pose, gave Freddie a quick and unexpected hug and disappeared from the room. Freddie stood in heavenly shock. The smell of the contact by the heavenly body clung to his nostrils. Visions of unfulfilled, unspoken longing dreams about Elijah filled Freddie’s mind and pounded within his heart.
(To the tune: "On The Street Where You Live")
I have had the chance, each and every day. To see the wonder he’s become in each and every way. Now I’ve touched this God and he’s touched me too. How do I let him know that I care? While his body is perfect as can be. It’s his heart that reaches out and really touches me. Though I lust for sex and to feel his pecs. How do I let him know that I care? That over-powering muscle, plus a face that blows you away. A smile that says, ‘Yes, I trust you.’ When he leaves I want to shout out ‘No, please stay!’ If I dare to speak, Might he turn away? Anyone he’d choose would die just to be his today. Could he want a guy so, so small as I? How can I let him know that I care? Once the truth came out, I’d be on my own. My family would just cast me out to be alone. There’d be nothing more he could want me for. How can I let him know that I care? Freddie picks up Elijah’s discarded work out towel and caresses it against his cheek. (Freddie)
Yes, … How could I let you know that I care?
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