(In a private prep-room at the National’s Bodybuilding Competition) "Damn, that was a lot tougher than I thought it would be." Elijah pushed out between deep breaths founded in utter muscle exhaustion. "Can you believe Alfred!" The Preliminary rounds had been nothing short of a media frenzy. Hugh Pickering had done an amazing job at building the anticipation for the "Battle of the Great Muscle Twins". "What did you expect?" Pearce challenged back. "He’s your twin! Plus he’s had all the ‘assistance’ that Pickerings’ empire could provide." With just six months of training combined with the best drugs and supplements that money could buy, Alfred had been honed into a muscle monster of almost equal proportion to that of Elijah created under the guidance of Professor Higgins in eight months. "If I may say so, you looked really great, Mr. Elijah." Freddie encouraged the heaving mountain of sweating muscle as he cleared off one end of a flat bench for Elijah to collapse on to. What little difference Alfred lacked in size, not that that his 275 pounds seemed small at all against the 290 pound muscle paragon that Elijah had become, he seemed to have made up in brutally cut sharpness. "Thanks, Freddie." Elijah gasped as his still rock-hard ass muscles striated their was onto the cleared seat. Now, in the wake of the punishing preliminary comparisons, in the private dressing/workout room that Pickering had provided for the Higgins team Elijah sat with his sky blue posing trunks turned to midnight blue by the torrents of sweat that ran into and through their skimpy fabric. "Come in, there’s not much time before the final round begins." Pearce continued as he forced a container with an energy drink into a pair of vein strewn hands . "Drink this up. Then we need to get to work keeping you pumped and primed. This is no time to give up. You can bet that your brother is flexing his cuts even deeper than they were for the Preliminary rounds!" The intensely struggling cloth fibers fighting to contain Elijah’s burgeoning cock and testicles had molded themselves to his all-too-inviting flaccid penis and fruit-ripe balls. "Let me dry you off, Mr. Elijah." Freddie added as he moved over to the heaving compilation of fissured meat. He began to towel down the tensely mounded traps and delts. "Then we’ll need to reapply some tanning solution and oils." Freddie couldn’t help but note how the proliferation of sweat flowed with the creamy oils covering Elijah’s brutally flushed muscles causing the sharpened angles of his muscles to refract the harsh lighting to shroud him in brilliant radiance. "Eat this!" Pearce insisted handing two power bars to Elijah. "Let’s get up and get to work on that pump." Elijah still breathed deep, hard and heavy after the exhausting display to which he had been subjected. As he rose, every muscle billowed with a sense of enormous power as they pumped in and out with the gasping beat of his pounding heart. "I just can’t believe how big Alfred has gotten!" Elijah moaned as he began a towel pulling tug-of-war with the prompting Pearce. "Did you see how shredded his body was? There were cuts within the cuts! Alfred’s pecs were like giant cables welded together and then ripped crossways. His skin looked as if it had been glued directly onto his arms, legs and back! How can I beat that?" "Yea, yea, yea. He looked pretty good, but you look just as good!" Pearce threw back. "Better." Freddie whispered into Elijah’s ear as he used the towel to sweep bands of sweat from the endless expanse of muscle writhing across the tortured, flexing upper back. ""You’ve got 15 pounds on him and all of that is pure muscle." Pearce went on. "All we need to do is to pull that extra meat out into clear view - then the contest is yours for the taking." Freddie reached as far around the flared, pumped lats as he could to wipe some of the river of sweat dripping down from the fingered obliques and plated abs. As he did so,, Freddie found his face immersed in the swell of Elijah’s delicious back meat. "Oh, this feels so good!" Elijah proclaimed while it was not clear whether he meant the pumping workout, the toweling massage - or both. As he pulled the towel across the rough terrain of abdominal muscle, Freddie’s crotch found itself sandwiched against the upper reaches of the trenched crevasse between the two bouldered gluteal muscles of his charge. The shifting muscles seemed to respond to the contact as they chisel-massaged the endangered tissue of the invading male organ. "Yea, this is good!" Elijah proclaimed again as he stood upright and began to constrict his brilliant musculature on his own. Freddie jumped away quickly as a mountain range of muscles rose up in front of him to proclaim its prominence. Line by immense line of granite-carved flesh formed into unconquerable peak after unconquerable peak. "That’s it!" Pearce encouraged. "Pump it up! Pump it out! Make it show! Make it grow!" The astounding body began to respond to the chiding by crystallizing itself to a visual density beyond mere rock. Every muscle seemed to push itself to a previously unattained level of spectacular display - every muscle. "They want meat! I’ll show them meat! Elijah announced proudly. "They want muscle! They are going to get muscle! Real muscle!" Freddie gasped out loud as 27" of vein-reinforced biceps and triceps split, re-split and fractured under vacuum-molded skin. Astounding hilltops of the rolling muscles of Elijah’s shouldered rounded upward and swelled forward sweeping around to form the billow of the quivering upper pectoral muscles. "They want cuts! I’ll give them cuts so sharp that they dare not tough them for fear of severing their groping fingers from their hands!" Elijah shouted as he mentally clenched his body into a sense of hardness so vivid that he could feel it deep into the core of each ultra-tensed muscle. The quivering meat of the massive pecs drifted into quaking cords of fanning muscle as the expansive chest swept across the inflated sternum. Elijah’s pronounced tit-nipples dripped with renewed flows of polishing sweat. Then he forced the full volume of his lats to claim their rightful territory as 62" of upper torso flew into full, meaty bloom. "That’s it! You show them what muscle is all about!" Pearce chanted. Elijah responded, yet again, as his abs vacuumed his waist down to a mere 29" and his 36" of upper legs literally exploded into maps of unimaginable sharply-rounded thickness and shadow-deep defining valleys. These hills and chasms were fed by a network of surfaced veining marbling the meat. Rising onto his toes brought our the fissured chunks of his bulbous 23" calf muscles. "Good! Good! Good! Let’s be ready out there! I have no intention of loosing now!" Startled in the booming voice of Professor Higgins as he burst into the room. "They can’t beat me!" Insisted a surprised but unaffected Elijah. ""Good!" Higgins bellowed, then added turning to Pearce and Freddie. "Now get his cleaned up and ready!" "Y-y-yes, sir." The two assistants acknowledged simultaneously. "Good, good, good." The Professor concluded in an array of orders as he headed back toward the door. "Get him dried! Fix his tan! Change his trunks! And, for Gods sake, one of you milk him, please! He can’t go back out there with that thing hanging out of his trunks like that! And that goes for you, too, Freddie!" The Professor disappeared as quickly as he had appeared. Only then did they bother to notice that to which the Professor had alluded. Elijah’s cock had pushed its way out over the top of his soaked posing trunks and stood proudly mounted from his groin. The 11" monster stood as a matching image of readiness as the rest of his intoxicating muscles. "I’ll go get some new posers." Pearce directed as he pointed to the enraged organ. "You take care of that thing for him, Freddie." "I’ll take care of this." Elijah stated with some apparent embarrassment. "No!" Pearce insisted. "You need to keep pumping and posing. "Freddie will take care of your cock." With that, Pearce was gone. Slowly, Freddie stepped forward. For a moment the two men just stood face to face. Elijah let a slight smile cross his face. This gave Freddie the courage he needed as he shifted his glance from the handsome portrait. Freddie’s gaze crossed over the hugely mounded globular, flexing pecs and tripped across the undulating ladders of the abdominal plates coming, finally, to rest on the broad root of the shaven cock. Freddie’s eyes followed the thick, beating central vein running much of the great length of the beating shaft of aroused male muscle. Smaller veins danced off to each side now and again along the pumping tube and wriggled down and around from view toward the semen channel on the underside of the meat-hardened pipe. "It’s OK, Freddie." Elijah whispered softly as he stopped flexing briefly enough to help Freddie’s shivering hand down into contact with his hot, beating cock. "I’m sorry." Sensations Freddie had only dreamed of shot through his body as his hand became familiar with the warmly pounding flesh. The cock felt hard as steel and, yet, as warm and inviting as first hot-dog of a new summer. A light sigh exited Freddie as his fingers slipped delicately along the full length of the rigid, vein-pocked cylinder finally encountering the walled ring of flesh announcing the beginning of the fist-sized cock head. The 11" member felt much longer than the dimension insisted. Freddie lifted his head back toward the other intensely flexing face and tried to smile an acceptance of the responsibility as he began to kneel down by the warm projecting cock. He wrapped his contacting hand around as much of the tubular splendor as possible with his thumb and forefinger locked behind the flared crown of the majestic head. Pearce re-entered with a pair of silver posing trunks as small as those embedded in Elijah’s ass crack and clinging to the wobbling balls in front of Freddie. "Keep flexing and pumping." Pearce ordered and then, smiling toward Freddie. "You, too!" Pearce reached in unceremoniously and yanked the dripping blue fabric down to the floor. Elijah’s balls shook and his mighty cock tried to rip itself from Freddie’s grasp as he quickly stepped out of the old trunk and into the two leg rings of the new ones. Freddie forced his hand back along the length of the shaft once and, reversing the motion, dragged his clutching hand back to its impact with the reddened crown. He repeated this again, just as slowly. Then he stopped suddenly. "No, I can’t." He insisted. "I’m sorry." Freddie dashed into the adjacent washroom pushing the door shut behind him. "Damn!" Pearce shouted. "You keep working, Elijah! I’ll do this." With that, Pearce moved in on the wanting cock and began a sexual massage rooted in experience. As Pearce quickened the long, pistoning rhythm, Elijah began to shift his flexing and pumping to match the beat of eroticism shoot through his groin. Every gargantuan muscle screamed into the raw sexual dance as Pearce moved with faster and stronger rapidity. Elijah could feel the intense flush of the very core of his muscle-meat as his mind yielded to the faster and faster pumping pattern. His balls began to churn the hot creams within them and pushed the liquid rewards into launching position. Pearce could feel the growing tenseness within beating steely shaft as it struggled against his grasp to take control of its own destiny. Cum splashed hard and hot against Pearce’s own magnificently exposed shoulder and massive bicep. The second rush of juice hit the same area with the same impact. The mouth end of the erupting organ opened for a third time just as Pearce positioned his own mouth over it to catch creamy meal it offered. His lips locked onto the capsule head and ingested the balance of the hot, fresh servings. "That’s a good boy!" Pearce applauded wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Now, once that thing has gone done enough, get those trunks on and get back out there. It is almost time for the evening show to start." Elijah did as he was told. Pearce finished toweling him off and touching up his tan and oils while they got the new trunks stretched into place over his handsomely sized spent cock and balls. "Now go beat the pants off your brother!" Pearce encouraged with a final swap to the undulating butt muscles as Elijah departed the room. Act One, Scene Ten

(At the National’s Bodybuilding Competition Finals) Once Elijah had left for the staging area Pearce knocked on the bathroom door. "OK, you can come out now" He taunted toward the bathroom containing Freddie. "That is, if you’re done beating off!" As the speaker systems announced the top five competitors onto the stage. Freddie shyly opened the door and came into the prep room while finishing adjusting his pants. Pearce shifted his attention to the announcement. Sure enough the names of both Elijah and Alfred Dolittle were among those mentioned. He opened the door slightly so that they could have a view of the stage area from the wing in which the room was locate. It also permitted a partial view to the front rows of the audience to where Huge Pickering. Sat between Zoltan, the reigning Mr. Galaxy and Professor Higgins. "What’s with you?" Pearce asked pointedly turning his back toward Freddie momentarily. "It’s not as if it isn’t obvious how you feel about Elijah! I finally give you a chance to have him for yourself and you go and blow it!" "I-I-I j-j-just don’t think I can do it." Freddie tried to respond in reserved, quiet tones. Pearce’s gaze shot back and forth from Professor Higgins to Freddie to the emerging muscle images of the Dolittle twins. He could feel his heart pounding within the overly stretched, cum stained tank top he was wearing. As if remembering the earlier sexual, encounter Pearce reached down and pulled the wet covering from his upper torso. "You know, Freddie," Pearce continued almost absentmindedly as the line-up for posing was announced "you can really be a stupid idiot sometimes! You’re in love with a man that seems to like you a lot, too, and you just can’t seem to get over some stupid need to try to cling onto a lifestyle that abandoned you years ago!" "Huh?" was all Freddie could get out as the emcee called out Alfred’s name and his hard rock music kicked in. "Shit, look at this Alfred guy, Freddie!" Pearce insisted throwing the door open wide enough for both of them to peer through. An equally curious but confused Freddie found himself hotly in contact with Pearce’s wet cum-moist massive arm and shoulder in the confined opening. The smell of Elijah’s fresh cum hung onto the shifting heavily muscled appendage as Pearce threw the pumping-assisted muscle around Freddie’s neck grabbing the back of the smaller man’s sweatshirt and pulling Freddie into the doorway with him. "God, Zoltan looks as if he must be a good twenty pounds heavier than he was at the last Mr. Galaxy contest! And just look at Pickering smirking at the Professor!" Pearce’s low voice turned cutting sharp. "Why I’d like to ram my arm up his ass and flex it inside of him! Maybe then he would finally leave the Professor alone!" Alfred was half way through his routine. From this side position, the thickness of his muscles boggled the mind. The sheer depth of his skin-tight pecs cast long hard shadows over the stiff ridges of each independently mounted abdominal as they bumped down to Alfred’s hugely rounded protruding basket. "I’m sure the Professor can handle Mr. Pickering." Freddie reassured and then added in a surprised whisper. "What do you mean that Mr. Elijah likes me?" It appeared that Alfred had not had time to relieve his own member before this final phase began. The mound of semi-hard flesh was enormously intoxicating. Pearce could swear that the underside of Alfred’s balls were visible from where they stood in the gap that had grown between his massively flexing upper thighs and the seam of the over-stretched material. "Crap! I bet he kept that weapon loaded on purpose!" Pearce observed pointedly. "But look at his gut! That’s the problem with his physic! He’s got one of those ‘roid-guts’ and he’s forgetting to keep it held in all the time! Shit! I hope the judges are noting that." Sure enough, whenever Alfred took in a massive a deep flex-reinforcing breath, his abs billowed out as their expansion cut through the heavy shadow of his huge undulating pecs that he was using to hide the temporary distention. As Alfred shifted into a series of ultra-cut raised biceps and side triceps poses, he milked those muscles into gigantic proportions in an effort to keep the eyes of the judges focused where he wanted them to look. Clearly he had been well trained by someone who knew the art of re-directive posing. "Mr. Elijah barely knows I exist." Freddie whispered. "Look at me, I’m so small compared to the two of you. And I couldn’t do anything to come between what you two have together. Pearce’s spontaneous laugh was loud enough to catch a stern warning glance from the direction of the Professor. Fortunately, the applause accompanying the riveting most-muscular finale by Alfred cut the sound off before any real distraction occurred. Both Freddie and Pearce shuttered at the mind-boggling 275 pound muscle image quaking through the extended twisting hold of the last pose. The signature cross-cutting of striation upon striation hit the audience with unforgiving hardness. A heavy webbing of cabled veining visibly beat along with each pound of Alfred’s heart as it force-fed that demanding rock-like meat. "This is not about Elijah, Freddie." Pearce scolded. "This is about you! Who you are! What you are! And fulfilling your own dreams." Alfred bowed deep and parades slowly from the stage. "You don’t understand …" Freddie argued. The two turn their attention toward their own heated discussion. "Oh, I understand, all right!" Pearce interrupted. "You can’t get what you want because you can’t accept who you are! Freddie, can you imagine how wonderful it would all be if you could just be you … can you?" Freddie leans on the dressing room door frame and begins to drift into a dream-like stance. "Oh, God! Things would be so-o-o-o … different!" He spoke with a dreamy quality in his voice. " So-o-o-o …different…." "Yes, just imagine it, Freddie." Pearce lulled. "Just imagine…" The room around Freddie begins to fade. He found himself caught up in the dream that Pearce was painting for him. Pearce’s words flow like wonderfully happy music and the image of a ghost-like Elijah drifts into view. The Elijah in Freddie’s dream glows with warm, loving light and is standing naked, flexing his huge, hard muscles as if he were the lead in some fantastic ballet. The image of Elijah moves up to Freddie and begins to surround the dreaming Freddie with a perfectly choreographed posing routine. Soon, other perfectly muscled specimens enter into the vision and join the dance of exhibition. Inhumanly huge and erotic biceps and bulbous rocky pecs ripple and undulate up and down the line of the godly musclemen. Flexing waist-thick thighs fling heavy arcing cocks and fruit-sized balls toward the drooling face of the dreaming Freddie. As the line of extraordinarily muscled pose more , they form into a posing line and their flexing becomes more rhythmic, proud and focused. Soon, it is more like a parade of insanely muscled peacocks.

(To the tune: "With A Little Bit Of Luck") (Pearce - entering Freddie’s dream world and leading him down the flexing line) You see a man with muscles hard as iron. His flexing muscles draw you like a lure. Accept you’re gay and go for your desire … ‘Cause … gay’s OK, for sure! Men with men is not impure! It’s no disease! …It needs no cure! (Pearce helps Freddie fondle and feel Elijah and some of the posing dream bodybuilders. Every muscle on their perfect bodies explodes with size only available in dreams. Every granite hard arm is at least 30" around. The flared upper backs are well over a yard wide and taper to waists smaller than any of the arms.) His pecs are rocks so big that they consume you. His arms are huge …So handsome and secure. He’s proud he’s gay and he needs you to be, too … (The posing line of bodybuilders begin to handle each other’s muscles while posing with Elijah focused on Pearce.) ‘Cause … gay’s OK for sure! Men with men is not impure! It’s no disease! … It needs no cure! (Freddie dashes away from his groping. Pearce races over, grabs Freddie and pushes him back. The dream men turn their sculpturally muscled butts toward Freddie and Pearce and entertain them with a synchronized hardening into pairs of striated cliffs of muscle. Then they turn, rear to rear and, bending forward, insert hand after hand deep within the invitingly separated muscle cheeks.) Being gay’s OK! Being gay’s OK! It’s your way of life, not something to ignore. Being gay’s OK Stand proud when you say… It’s no disease! … It needs no cure! (By now, the cocks on Elijah and the dream musclemen have become rodded. All are as huge as Elijah’s and equally hard. Assuming side profile positions, the set of musclemen flex into a mind boggling side chest poses as the pecs form striated mounds extending outward as far as the brutally flexed cantilevered wonder 11" cocks they each sport.) You are a man who’s special, warm and tender. With love to give, devoted to the core. You know you seek someone who’s the same gender … (Pearce and the dream musclemen) - (except for Elijah who keeps posing around Freddie.) ‘Cause … you are gay, for sure! Men with men is not impure! It’s no disease! … It needs no cure! (Pearce begins to pose at Freddie with the dream musclemen. Each man offers Freddie a different, fully flexed body part to view and enjoy up close. Freddie responds with slow but wanting caution.) Feel up our bodies, it’s like feeling pure rock. Each touch will tell you that you want us more. You cannot love it … ‘less it’s got a hard cock. ‘Cause … you are gay, for sure! Men with men is not impure! It’s no disease! … It needs no cure! (All the undulating muscle giants pair off except for the dream Elijah and begin to enjoy the sensations to be derived from mutual muscle admiration. It is a sight of hugely inflated muscle embracing other hugely inflated muscle. Soon they move into a program of self-stimulation as each man assaults his own raging cock and they form into a line of driven muscle-cutting masturbating.) (Dream Elijah - to Freddie) So if you want me, you will need to say so. Plus all my muscle, my heart is true and pure. Until you ask me, you can’t know if I’ll say ‘No’. ‘Cause … gay’s OK for sure! Men with men is not impure! It’s no disease! … It needs no cure! (Pearce, Dream Elijah and the Dream Musclemen) Being gay’s OK! Being gay’s OK! It’s your way of life, not something to ignore. Being gay’s OK Stand proud when you say… It’s no disease! … It needs no cure! (The rhythm of hands heavily stroking unflinchingly hard cocks increases as does the beat of the music. Finally, both the hands and the tune reach a whirling frenzied finale.) Yes... Being gay’s OK! Being gay’s OK! It’s your way of life, not something to ignore. Being gay’s OK Stand proud when you say… It’s no disease! … It needs no cure! It’s … no disease! … …It … needs … no … cure! (One by one, the engorged cock each masterfully muscle-crunched body explodes in a spectacle of cum onto the body of the adjacent muscle carved creature. The last of the dream musclemen launches his cum into the mouth of the waiting Pearce. The dream Elijah smiles at Freddie.) (Dream Elijah - touching the face of Freddie softly and tenderly.) It’s … no disease … … It … needs … no … cure … (The light fades as the spent bodybuilders quietly repeat the last line through a rising mist. Soon, the men begin to disappear into the mist, Dream Elijah parts last. Pearce leads Freddie back into the doorway of the dressing room.) •