My Fair Man: A Muscle Musical


By John

CAST: Elijah Dolittle - common working man, about 25 Professor Henry Higgins - Doctor of Physiology, about 50 Hugh Pickering - Bodybuilding supplement & contest mogul, about 55 Zoltan Kuminsky - Reigning Mr. Galaxy, about 35 Pearce Dumoor - Training assistant to Professor Higgins, about 30 Freddie Axon-Shurr - Physicaltherapy student of Prof. Higgins, about 25 Alfred Dolittle - Brother of Elijah Dolittle, about 25 Will Swallow- An avid bodybuilding fan, about 23 Peter Palmer - A Mr. Galaxy contestant, about 30 Act Two, Scene One (In the Gym at Professor Higgins just a bit over one month after the Nationals.) "Come on, Elijah!" Pearce demanded standing on the flat bench spotters stand over the half naked, struggling, prone figure. "You’ve done eight reps before at this weight. You can do it, damn it!" Elijah lets out a loud, pain-filled groan as he struggled to force the eighth bench press rep through. "God damn it, Elijah!" Pearce shouted. "You can’t give up now! Not again!" Pearce watched as the 405# weight shook to a stop a few inches short of the goal and began to wobble back down. Elijah’s enormously mounded straining pecs quivered and pulsed in defeat. Pearce waited until the last possible second and then reached down and to hoist the bar onto the protruding support racks. "Shit, Elijah!" I don’t know what’s gotten into you. "You’re the ‘King’ of the Nationals and the charmer of the media for the ‘Mr. Galaxy’ contest but you just don’t seem to want to let yourself advance anymore. What is it with you?" The huge naked upper torso rose into a sitting position on the bench. The same massively cut muscle that won the Nationals Competition showed in beautifully striated splendor across and around the expansive upper body - but no more than that. "I don’t know Pearce. It’s as if my body has just reached its limit." Elijah bemoaned. "I really am trying, there’s just nothing more for me to give. Maybe Pickering’s right. Maybe you’re right. Maybe there is only so far a human body can go without having some kind of other assistance." "You’re going to give in to Pickering and let him beat you and the Professor over my dead body!" Pearce insisted. "Take five minutes and we’ll try again." This time you’re going to get through all ten reps - you hear me?" The sweat stained head nodded reluctantly as Elijah’s 295 pounds of silky, sharp muscle spilled off the bench and headed toward the nearby water cooler. Pearce sighed with a sense of confused defeat as he watched the intoxicating flow of .back and ass muscles shift rhythmically in a dance of graceful naturally graceful movement. "Look, Elijah, you beat your brother fairly." Pearce tried to reason as he had so many times in the recent past. "It’s not your fault that Alfred turned to Pickering and his methods. It was his choice." Elijah’s entire body pounded from gently mounded muscle to sheered rock at the mere mention of his twin brother. From the rear, Pearce witnessed the reaction as fissured striation after fissured striation coursed over the immensely sharp meat. Every lined bundle of corded muscle could be seen in Elijah’s ass through the small tight trunks he was wearing for his workout. Following the Nationals, Elijah had attempted to reach out to him but had found that Alfred had sublet their apartment without leaving a forwarding address. Even Pickering had been no help to date. "But this drug usage could hurt, or even kill, him if he keeps it up." Elijah responded as he had so many times before. "He’s my brother, damn it, I’m supposed to help him." Elijah filled his bottle with water and picked up his sweat pants before returning to the bench by Pearce. Pearce sighed internally as the returning huge pecs, abs, thighs and arms balled into and hardened mounds of granite and then stretched with lava-like fluidity under the applied pressures working within Elijah’s struggling mind. "There is nothing to help, Elijah!" Pearce spoke with frustration. "He’s a grown man like you. Capable of making his own decisions. You made one, too, nine moths ago. You made a pledge to Professor Higgins…and to me. Now you have to fulfill your commitment. Then, if you still want to, you can try to reach out to your brother." "He’s right Mr. Elijah." Freddie added with quiet support as he entered the room. "Freddie, it’s nice to have you back." Elijah smiled politely. Elijah’s pumped, muscled body crashed dejectedly onto the bench. The plethora of semi-relaxed muscles hardened and divided into a stunning array of striated magnificence as they absorbed the impact of meat against padded metal. The heavily loaded barbell shook violently and threatened to jump from its supports. "Yea, maybe you can talk some sense to him." Pearce chimed. "I’m beginning to think the only thick, hard muscle that is still growing is his head!" Elijah reached around to stabilize the floundering quarter-ton of dead weight. As he did so his extended lat blossomed with all its enormity. The massiveness of his twisted arm stretching across the front of his battling pecs cast a dark shadow over the entire compact abdominal cavity. The horizontal compression of his pecs being pushed together formed a line of hand-deep cleavage and push his reaching bicep into a wonderfully rich mound of immeasurable meat. At any other time, this display would have been enough to set off an erotic chain reaction within the room. "He’s right Mr. Elijah." Freddie continued the conversation at hand. "You have to stand by what you promised and you need to be who you are first before you can expect to help someone else - even family." "Now that’s profound!" Pearce proclaimed. "Thanks Freddie. (Turning to Elijah,) Listen to him. He makes a lot of sense." " I guess I know you’re right, Freddie." Elijah acknowledged with obvious reluctance. "It’s just so hard to do. I’ll try." The muscled giant released the re-balanced bar and turned back toward the two others. The mountains of perpetually inflated muscle drifted back into an aesthetic cascade of tender thickness. Elijah reached into the pocket of his sweat pants and withdrew a bundled hanky. "If only I could believe you meant it." Pearce prodded. "By the way, how was the visit with your mom, Freddie." "It went - as expected.." Freddie answered solemnly. "What’s wrong, Freddie." Pearce chided attempting to change the tone of the conversation to a more lighthearted venue. "Did momma disown her precious little boy?" "Something like that." Freddie nodded quietly. "Oh, shit! I’m sorry, Freddie. I was just joking." Pearce offered. "I had no idea…" "I know, Pearce. It’s OK." Freddie tried a smile. "I guess this was going to happen eventually." "What happened? What are you going to do?" Elijah entered the conversation with obvious concern. "What about your training with the Professor?" "The Professor has been really good about it." Freddie responded warmly. "He said I can stay and that we will figure a way to work off my fees and all over time. What happened? Well, … the truth happened." "Truth, what truth?" Pearce inquired. "I told you that you need to be you first, Mr. Elijah. (Elijah nodded.) Well, with Pearce’s help, I learned that I needed to be me first, too." Freddie stated. "Me? What? ….When? ….How? ….Huh?" Pearce rattled off his confusion. "Back at the Nationals you suggested that I needed to accept who - and what - I am." Freddie declared. "So I did. I told my mother that I am gay. I guess you could say that she took it pretty hard. She made it quite clear that there is no room for this kind of scandal in HER family, especially in HER business. So…now I’m no longer a welcome member of HER family." "You mean she never knew, never even guessed, before!" Elijah responded with surprise. "I don’t know, Mr. Elijah." Freddie stated sullenly. "Maybe she had always suspected…but how would she know for sure if I wasn’t able to admit it to myself before this?" "This is crap!" Elijah protested. "See, Pearce, everything is going wrong! Freddie’s been disinherited…and I can’t get any bigger on my own!" "Oh, please, Mr. Elijah" Freddie pleaded "I’ll be fine. I’m glad I finally did this. But you’ve got to stay committed. For the Professor - and Pearce - and, even, if it means anything, for me." "You’re always so kind, Freddie." Elijah smiled. "I know I need to try. Maybe it’s time for some of that ‘special’ help, Pearce." With that Elijah unpalmed the bottle of growth hormone that Pearce had offered to Elijah a few months before. "What’s that!" Freddie blurted out as he realized what it was. "You can’t do that, Mr. Elijah. That wouldn’t be right!" "Come on, Elijah," Pearce begged as he moved in closer "You can’t feel bad about what has happened to your brother and think that your following the same path will let you be able to help him. Now give me the pills. Please." The great muscle body slowly unclenched the grasped bottle. Elijah’s massively balled bicep remained tensed and ready, full of immense strength, as his mind struggled with the truth of Pearce’s statement. "You haven’t taken any of the pills, have you Mr. Elijah?" Freddie inquired of the flowing massive compilation of sculpted beauty. Elijah shook his head. His enormous traps mounded in triangular glory as his thick, rich neck muscles lifted the sadly handsome face to peer into the wetted eyes of the slight inquiring man. Pearce took another step toward Elijah. His own massively brilliant musculature ripped itself into veined marble readiness as the sleeveless tank top glued itself to every crystal sharp expanded upper torso muscle. "Let us help you win on your own, Mr. Elijah." Freddie pleaded. "And I, we, promise we will help you find your brother, Alfred, and try to help him, too." "I know you’re both right." Elijah admitted. "I really want to win at the Mr. Galaxy. I know I need to win at the Mr. Galaxy - for me, for you … and for Professor Higgins. But, look at me, I haven’t been able to put on more than 5 pounds since the Nationals." Elijah’s hand began to reform its grip on the palmed bottle. His exposed arms, pecs and lats solidified into unassailable steel cords of immense meat. As the debate raged inside of him, Elijah saw the looks of desperate concern within the faces of his two trusted helpers. Slowly, the fissured muscle softened again as much as it could to the aesthetic flow of water polished rock. At the instant that Elijah’s grasp unfolded exposing the bottle of pills once again, Pearce rushed in and swiped it from his hand. "That’s better, Elijah!" Pearce insisted. "You can’t do this! We won’t let you! You had no right to take it from my room! I should have destroyed this a long time ago. Frankly I had forgotten that it was in my drawer. It was never meant for you - other than to taunt you to drive yourself. It - it was meant for me, but I couldn’t do it either." "There you are, Freddie." Professor Higgins bellowed catching the three men off guard. "I’ve been looking for you. (Noticing the bottle in Pearce’s hand.) What’s that you’ve got there?" The Professor grabs the bottle before Pearce can swish it away. "This is unacceptable!" Higgins screamed. "Freddie, consider yourself starting to earn your keep. Until further notice, I leave you in charge of Mr. Dolittle’s training. (Turning to Pearce.) "I will see you in my office Mr. Dumoor - immediately!" Elijah moved to explain but Pearce grabbed one muscular shoulder and motioned for silence. Elijah accepted the unspoken request reluctantly. Almost immediately the Professor, and the bottle, were gone. "Pearce, you’ve got to tell him that it was me, not you!" Elijah insisted once the three of them were alone. "It’ll be OK, Elijah." Pearce assured. "I’ll handle it. Trust me, I know what’s. You guys just get back to Elijah’s training, OK." The two men nodded. As Pearce moved to leave the gym he added to Freddie as he passed him. "Now that you have come to terms with who you are, don’t be afraid to share what you are with others that are important to you." Pearce exits. "What did he mean by that, Freddie." Elijah inquired. Freddie took in a deep long breath. He stared into Elijah’s eyes for what seemed an eternity. Finally, Freddie made his decision. "Well, Mr. Elijah. Pearce helped me a lot that night at the Nationals." Freddie spoke with as much conviction as possible. ""He suggested, and rightly, that there was no way I could expect to be loved by someone else, as me, if I couldn’t, first, accept me - as me." "Why, Freddie!" Elijah asked pointedly. "Is there someone special in your life now." "No, not exactly, but I very much want there to be." Freddie worked to keep his composure. "But I know that to expect someone - someone like you - to care for me would be something beyond my wildest dreams." Elijah sat still and quiet for a considerable period of time as he absorbed what had just been stated. "Sometimes, Freddie" Elijah broke the silence "it’s good to dream. I know I have dreamed often of a kind and gentle man. And kindness, honesty and true caring are about the best you can ever wish to find in someone who you want to be special in your life." "I know." Freddie blushed. "And I am sorry, Mr. Elijah, I guess I just wanted to get that out of my system. I promise never to bring it up again." "Well then, Freddie" Elijah assured with his best smile "what am I to do about how much I have dreamed … about you … you and this moment!" "Huh?" Freddie queried. ""No one has ever been so kind, caring and accepting of me as you have been, Freddie." Elijah started as his great, muscular bulk rose and moved closer. "To be honest with you…and with myself…I realize that, whenever I envision the kind of good and wonderful man that makes me feel full, I see you!" Without waiting for any sign of permission, Elijah reached out and pulled the shocked slight figure toward him. Their lips moved closer and closer together until they, finally, embraced each other with a long impassioned kiss. The two men stepped slightly apart. Slowly Elijah reached down and lifted one of Freddie’s hands, placing it on his massive left breast. Freddie begins a slow, methodical massage of the deliciously offered meat. He can feel the pounding of the heart of his newly found love beating through the pumping of the blood vessels feeding the heated muscle. Elijah takes both of his hands and places them over Freddie’s contacting hand. Together they enjoy the pleasure of the breast manipulation. Elijah’s other hand reaches around Freddie’s trim waist and slips gingerly down Freddie’s lower back until his fingers slide under Freddie’s waistband and pulls them together - groin to groin. Their lips dance together. As the two new-found lovers sink deeper and deeper into each others presence, the sharply angry voice of Professor Higgins forced them back into the real world. "Where the hell is Mr. Dumoor?" Higgins demanded as he barged back into the gym. "I don’t know." Elijah responded as he and Freddie did their best to cover their recent involvement together from the Professor. "I’m sure he’s on his way. Please, Professor, about Pearce … and the pills, I just wanted to …" "I’m not in the mood for what you may want, Mr. Dolittle. I will handle this with Mr. Dumoor!" The Professor interrupted curtly. "You have a contest to prepare for I want to hear those weights moving. Now you and Mr. Hill get to work!" Once again the Professor was gone as fast as he had arrived. Act Two, Scene Two (In Professor Higgins Study a few moments later.) "It’s about time, Mr. Dumoor!" Professor Higgins blustered as the muscular assistant stole into the room as proudly as he could. ""Before you start in on me, Professor, I want you to know that Elijah has been true to his word." Pearce began to recite the lines that he had been practicing for the past several minutes in his room. "He has never taken a single supplement or done anything inconsistent with your program." "Be that as it may, and I will find out with a drug test," Higgins warned "How did these things get into my house and what are they doing here?" Swallowing hard, Pearce admitted "They are mine Professor. I got them some time ago from one of Pickering’s men on one of his visits. Elijah took them from my room and, trying to please you, thought it might help him, but, again, he hasn’t taken any." "Yours!" Professor Higgins seemed shocked with the admission. "You know, Dumoor, it was almost better if they had been his. You’ve been with me a long time and I never expected that you would be so callous about my beliefs … my work!" "I’m not a traitor, Professor." Pearce began. "I admit, when I first asked for them, I thought I wanted them to help me keep up with Elijah. You seemed so happy with his progress and I wanted to make you happy with mine, too. But, then, I realized that it was a stupid idea." "Happy!" The Professor snorted. "How could doing this possibly make me happy! And, what the hell do you need to make me happy for. Your job was to help Elijah - not yourself. Don’t you think I would have noticed if you had taken many of these? How many did you take before you had your…your…epiphany!" I didn’t take any!" Pearce grew sterner. "And why wouldn’t I want to make you happy with me. Have you ever considered that maybe, just maybe, your happiness was important to me? And what the hell makes you think you would have noticed anything if I did take those pills?" "What the devil does that mean?" The Professor retorted indignantly. "You know me well enough to know that I notice everything!" "Apparently I don’t know you well at all." Pearce fired back. "Frankly, Professor Higgins, you seem so fixated on winning your little contest with Pickering and enjoying Elijah’s victory at the Nationals that you haven’t been noticing much at all for a while." "That’s a pile of poppycock." The Professor threw back pointedly. "If you’re so damned attuned to everything," Pearce pronounced finding himself in a state of anger induced excitement "how come you haven’t noticed that your precious little bodybuilder hasn’t put on so much more than a measly 5 pounds in over a month? How come you don’t seem to notice that he is sick about the whereabouts and health of his twin brother? How come you don’t seem to be able to recognize that my name is Pearce, not Mr. Dumoor? "Your out of your mind, Mr. Dumoor!" The Professor reacted with a sense of growing fear as Pearce moved toward him. "How come you don’t seem to be aware of this body (ripping off his tank top and casting aside his sweat pants leaving only his ultra-tight shorts)!" Pearce continued his growing tirade. "I’ve spent years trying to built the perfect body as I imagined you want it to be! How come, my dear Professor, if you’re so God damned attentive, you haven’t notice that I’ve been in love with you for years?" "What?" Professor Higgins cried in shock as he was forced back against his desk by the hulking, nearly naked muscular form now breathing heavily into his face. "…and how come you don’t even seem to be able to recognize that you have wanted to have this body for as long as it has been available to you!" Pearce forced on the Professor. In a clean swift move, without yielding an inch of the space he had gained on the Professor, Pearce reached down and ripped off his shorts. His already excited cock leaped to fill the void between the two men. As the 9" rod hardened to match the intensity of his tensely clenched muscles, Pearce placed his vein-like hands on the Professor’s shoulders and pushed him down into a kneeling position in front of his cock. "Blow me!" Pearce issued in a forced whisper. "What!" The Professor jostled free of the muscular grip with amazing dexterity. Pearce’s body pivoted to follow the backing Professor around his desk slowly. His pecs and abs reflected with a crystal sharp density reminiscent of the Dolittle twins bodies at the Nationals. His shoulders balled and divided into snaking ropes of muscle as his back writhed in cabled glory. Pearce’s hands crawled along the top of the Professor’s desk as the two men circled the element in a cautious chase. His triceps formed into cabled springs of loaded muscle and Pearce’s flowing ass stratified itself into mounted plates of creased muscle as his leopard-like movements sulked after its prey. You heard me, Professor." Pearce growled. "Enough of these years of unspoken ‘cat and mouse’ games. …I want! …You want! …Come get!"

"Blow Me"

(To the Tune: "Show Me") (Pearce) All of these years Exchanging leers. Forget your fears. Blow me! I’m not your ‘boy’ This cock’s not a toy. Relax and enjoy! Blow me! Professor Higgins continues to try to evade Pearce as he backs around toward his desk chair. (Pearce) Don’t turn away. This time I say It’s time we acted on truth! Blow Me! Blow me now! (Higgins - shouting to Pearce as he tries to run behind his desk) You’re insane! This is crazy! I protest! You’re a fool! What you say, isn’t civil! Get away … with that tool! (Pearce - pushing the Professor down into his desk chair and sticking his cock in his face) You want it, too. I know you do. My cock’s for you. Blow me! Come feel my bi’s. Look at my tri’s. Fondle my thighs Blow me! Come feel my ass! (Higgins) God! You’re so crass! (Pearce) Why can’t you let loose and love?… Blow me! Blow…me…now! Pearce stands above the seated, trapped Professor. His body is glowing with brilliantly carved muscle fed to perfection by desire. Instinctively Pearce flexes his massive 55" of crystal cut pecs and upper back. Then his abs mound into a two sharply formed ladders of ascending muscle from his groin to the underside of his meaty pectoral cantilever. All of this pushes his vein strained cock closer to the Professor’s waiting mouth. Professor Higgins stares at the enraged weapon for what seems to be an eternity. Finally, he begins to reach up. His hands seem to be steering toward the pre-cum dripping pole and, at the last instant, catching the naked muscular assaulter off guard, anchor onto each hip and, with surprising strength, push the columned muscle image far enough away to permit him to escape from the prison of the chair. The Professor rushes to the door and throws it open. "Get out!" He demands in a knurled whisper. "Get out … and don’t come back! Your services are no longer required here!" Pearce’s shock turns to stubbornly proud anger. He crosses the room quickly, swiping up his discarded cloths as he does, and exits. The Professor pushes the door shut behind him then moves over and collapses into his desk chair. As he does this, he knocks the bottle of pills over on his desk. He picks up the empty bottle and begins to read the label. "Twenty capsules. Take only as directed…" He laughs. As the Professor begins to push the pills back into the bottle, he finds himself counting. He continues this as he replaces each capsule into the container. "…eighteen, …nineteen, …twenty!" The realization of the truth forces the Professor’s heavy head into his hands. "Damn him! Damn Mr. Dumoor!" •

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