My Fair Man: A Muscle Musical

«8»

By John

Act Two, Scene Three (At Professor Higgins in the Gym about 1 Ĺ months before the Mr. Galaxy Contest.) "Önine, Öten! Go for twelve!" Freddie encouraged as Elijah pushed through the 495# bench press. Elijah emitted a loud groan as his naked body completed the tenth rep and permitted a controlled lowering of the enormously weighted bar toward the twin domes of mountained muscle that had formed within his enflamed pecs. The peaked muscles rose so high that he was unable to see his own poled cock towering up vertically from his loins. He breathed deep in preparation for the eleventh rep. "You know you can do it!" Freddie directed. "Youíre on you own. There is no way my puny body can help you with this much weight!" Elijahís pecs stretched as wide as possible as the cold steel of the bar tried to push its way into the body of the screaming breast muscles just above his pointing nipples at the bottom of the movement. The amount of sheer volume on his pecs still left the bar a full three inches above his breast plate as an empty triangle of space formed between the two elongated man-tits and the bar. Elijah reversed the motion and forced the weight to rise away from the inhuman massiveness. "Youíve got it, love!" Freddie assured. "Nothing to it! Make those pecs thunder and burn!" Cuts of striation crossed over the brutalized meat as Elijahís pecs ripped ever upward following the rising plated load. The valley of the gap in the middle of the twin marvels formed into a deepening canyon as the vertical walls of corded muscle rose and turned rock-cliff hard. The three-inch spread thickness became four and then five inches of multiple lined flowing stone. The stiff nipples slide to point more and more downward as the crevasse between the lower reaches of Elijahís pec and his upper abdominal region sharpened. "Good!" Freddie finally proclaimed as the mighty arms locked out at the top of their move. "Now, one more for growth!" "Youíre a heartless bastard!" Elijah growled between his clenched teeth as he began the process once again. "Maybe. But Iím your heartless bastard my dear Mr. Elijah." Freddie laughed. Freddie loved this view from standing on the spotters platform that used to belong to Pearce. A cornucopia of muscle spilled out before him. Since it was now just the two lovers, there was no longer any reason for Elijah to wear anything during his workout. In fact, early on Freddie had discovered that the nakedness actually served as a stimulus to the program. "Think it through! Visualize those pecs bigger, stronger and harder than they have ever been!" Freddie cheered. Once again, the monstrous mountains of steely flesh flowed outward to obscure more and more of the mooned lats that had appeared at the top of the press. The abdominal area vacuumed into a deeply shadowed sinkhole without a single one of the individual plates of muscle loosing its own identity. Elijahís thighs curved harder upward and cut themselves into veined cables as he fought not to cheat with his lower back or feet. "All the way down! Letís stretch those beef quarters for all their worth!" Freddie insisted. The 11" towering cock rocked higher as the coldness of the weight bar tickled into the sensitive nipples this time. Elijahís massive cock head glowed with hardened fullness screaming to be stimulated to release its waiting fountain of creamy cum. The shaft, like the rest of the magnificent body, appeared thicker and carved from impenetrable rock. Veins laced the reinforced length of maleness and worked their way up and across the lower abdomen. His equally veined arms twitched with all consuming muscle that enjoyed the secondary benefits of this exercise. "Now lets see those pecs swell up to my crotch!" Freddie challenged. Elijah pushed hard. Almost a quarter of a ton of mass fought to defeat the quivering muscled forms seeking conquest. A series of fanned cords tore through the translucent skin as the redness of the feeding blood engorged the tissue with growth stimulating energy. The painfully hard cock glowed like a radioactive cylinder as it responded to the erotic sensation of the struggle between manmade meat and the forces of heavily weighted gravity. "Push, damn it! Push!" Freddie chided. The collection of 45 pound weights locked onto the visibly deflected bar clanged loudly as the entire mass shook as Elijah strove to complete the movement more out of personal mental drive than from remaining available strength. Freddie was dazzled by the display of quaking muscle and pounding cock meat as the inhuman body forced its will for success into the very core of the pummeled meat. Almost a half a foot of rocky mountainous pectorals stood in proud prominence as Elijahís arms locked into their successful accomplishment. He held the weighted bar aloft in victorious control for several seconds to prove to himself that he had, indeed, beat the natural forces working against his magnificence. "There! Are you satisfied!" Elijah pronounced as the weight crashed loudly onto its supports. "I swear, The Marquee de Sade was more considerate than you, Freddie." The body on the bench rolled up into a sitting position. Elijahís lemon-sized balls settled onto the interceding masses of his inner thighs and forced his thundering cock to remain cantilevered out above the sweeping arc of his upper leg muscles with the mushroomed head extending almost out to his knees. "Maybe, but he didnít have to try to get the likes of you through a simple workout routine." Freddie laughed back. Elijahís pecs boiled with pain-enriched muscle. They formed into global sized breasts still alive with the striation lines that had been forced to surface in the preceding struggle. The thickness they had attained remained ever-present. One hand moved up and proceeded to manipulate the tenderized meat with comfort inducing stroking. Now and again, the fingers disappeared up to the knuckles in the muscular cleavage as sweat rolled out from the base of the vertical canyon and streaked across the hillocks of the abdominal plateau. "Thanks, Freddie. I miss Pearce, but I am sure glad I found you." Elijah shifted solemn at the mention of the forbidden name. The human sculpture rose from the bench. At 320 pounds, the naked figure was a breathtaking sight. Elijah, with Freddieís love-driven guidance had put on almost twenty-five pounds of perfected additional muscle in only a bit more than a month. His 65" chest was gloriously full from the workout as the enormously protruding pecs lead the way to the waiting arms of his lover and trainer. The 30" waist magnified the colossal size of his upper body and 38" thighs. Elijahís legs ripped with fissured muscle with every advancing step. "And Iím so glad that I found you, too." Freddie admitted shyly. Elijahís waving 11" cock beat the rest of his enormous body in the race to Freddie. Freddie shifted his stance so that the power pole slid between his panted legs as his head sunk onto one stiffly pillowed pec. The gently fibrous meat caressed his cheek and filled it with the heat of the workout still burning within its core of muscle. A pair of 28" upper arms surrounded the smaller man with carefully applied pressure. Freddie rubbed his cheek along the width of the gargantuan male mammary feature and turned a pair of loving eyes up toward Elijahís equally entranced stare.

"Share Your Love With Me"

(Reprise - to the tune - Wouldnít it be Loverly)

(Freddie) All I offer is what you see. Plus my heart, its the best of me. Iím in heaven since you will be There to share your love with me. (Elijah) Built my body to make me king. For lustful sex or a muslced fling. Now your heart tells me you the being There to share your love with me. (Freddie & Elijah) Itís astounds me to find out now That I nev-er knew How my life could not be filled Except by loving you. (Elijah) All this muscle looks so great, thatís sure. But your heart has me in its lure. Thereís no doubt nowÖ I know that youíre There to share your love with me Ö Ö love with me Ö (Freddie & Elijah) Yes, Ö knowing youíre in love with me. "Please, Freddie," Elijah begged as lovingly as he could "may we have sex - just this once. You can feel how much my cock is yearning to be released by you." "Oh, Mr. Elijah, God knows I want that as much as you" Freddie answered "but you know our agreement. No sex until you win the Mr. Galaxy contest." "Once canít hurt. Freddie." Elijah pleaded. He gently ground his embedded cock along Freddieís embracing thighs. The enraged cock head tingled with anticipation as it grated along the friction producing roughness of Freddieís pant legs. Elijah could feel the pressure of his unreleased cum pounding to be released. "We donít know that for sure, dear one." Freddie spoke directly. " Look at the progress you have made in the month that we have been doing this. Thereís less than two months to go. I am yours, now and forever, but we made a pledge to wait and we need to honor that." Without answering, Elijah repackaged Freddie in his loving blanketing of muscle. Consummation would have to wait - painful as that thought was. There was a victory to secure first. Act Two, Scene Four (At the local gym where Zoltan works out that same day.) "I would have brought the Pro Card and the entry papers over to you, Henry." Hugh Pickering offered handing a large envelop to the Professor. "I know, Hugh, but itís nice to get out every now and again. I had another stop to make first anyway." Professor Higgins smiled back. "I have been becoming increasingly trapped in my own little world of late and think it may be time to explore other parts of the city .. and the world." "If youíre looking for Mr. Dumoor or Elijahís brother, neither of them is here." Pickeringsí tone shifted. "I have no interest in the whereabouts of Mr. Dumoor anymore." The Professor responded with quick defiance. "I understand that Mr. Dumoor has taken a job as the night Manager at the health club that Elijah used to frequent." Pickering taunted. "But surely you were aware of that already/" "As I said," The Professor retorted sharply "I have no interest in Mr. Dumoor or his disposition." "Sorry, Henry, I just thought that after all those years with you, there might be some desire for contact." Pickering added slyly. "Well, you are wrong, good sir. Anyway, I thought Alfred was under contract to you? Higgins shifted the subject. "I promised that I would give Elijah that I would give him this note if I came across him." "Heís supposed to be but he just stopped showing up a little more than a month after the Nationals - not long after you released Mr. Dumoor." Hugh stated with a harshness in his voice. "Heís apparently moved out of his apartment and I havenít been able to find out any more about him. I had him training with Zoltan and had great hopes for him." "How is ĎMr. Galaxyí doing?" Professor Higgins inquired with a forced indifference. "So, youíve actually come to check out the competition?" Pickering smirked. "Well, I donít see any reason to keep his progress a secret like you seem to be doing with your Mr. Dolittle. Honestly, Henry, youíre passing up a lot of free advertising and potential sponsorships by keeping your man so tightly under wraps." "Itís all about money and profit to you, Hugh." The Professor spat back. "This industry would be so much better - and so would all those aspiring young kids - if people like you werenít so intent on exploiting it for their own gain!" "Henry," Pickering shifted to a much softer tone "letís not have this debate again. You have your perceptions and I have mine. Letís just leave it at that this time, OK. At least my Mr. Galaxy contest is giving your methods a public shot for once." Professor Higgins nodded, folded the envelop, and began to push it into his binder. "Zoltan, meet me in the Posing Room." Pickering announced into the intercom system and turned back to the Professor. "Come on, Iíll let you have a small preview of what youíre up against." Pickering led the reluctant Professor through a side door to a small room lined with mirrors and a rack of sound equipment. Shortly after they went in, the hulking figure of Zoltan entered the room cloaked as best as his huge body could be in oversized sweat cloths. "Good afternoon Professor Higgins." Zoltan greeted the Professor politely with his ever-present heavy Rumanian accent. "I heard from Alfred that Elijah had some trouble after the Nationals." "Heís doing fine now, Zoltan, but thanks for your apparent concern." Professor Higgins responded. "Oh, trust me, I like Mr. Dolittle, sir. I like someone who knows the joy of great muscle." Zoltan seemed sincere in his comment. "I just intend to beat your student and secure the record for the most Mr. Galaxy wins by any man - ever." "How about a showing the Professor here a bit of what Mr. Elijah Dolittle will be facing?" Pickering cut into the conversation and then added. "But not too much." Zoltan smiled a nod of understanding and slowly began to lift the bulky sweatshirt from around his torso. Even with the custom made top, the material struggled to clear the rapidly expanding view of the figure below. As the shirt moved higher, it became apparent that Zoltan had a tank top on under the outer garment. "Watch and wonder my good Professor." Pickering proclaimed as the unveiling began. When the hem of the shirt reached the bottom of Zoltanís huge man-tits and flailing lats the massive projections of muscle refused to let the fabric slip over their bulk without a struggle. An amazing pair of brutally muscled upper arms blossomed to fill the surrounding cloth of the sleeves as they joined into the process of forcing the clinging material over the hardening breasts and wings. "I expect Zoltan to be the biggest compilation of impeccable muscle ever to mount a stage by the night of this years Mr. Galaxy show." With an audible grunt, Zoltan finally tore the overpowered material off and passed it over his head. The high mounding of the muscle mounted atop the bared shoulders hoisted much of the tit-meat up with the last remnants of the encasing fabric. Once released, the gargantuan pectorals flung themselves back down into place protecting the front torso with a shield of muscle more intense than the greatest armored breastplate ever created. "Only the best that chemistry can assemble." The Professor chided back to Pickering. The strap lines of the tank seemed like meaningless strings compared to the size of the muscle they pretended to hide. The scoop of the neck line stretched taunt like a horizontal bridge over the fathom-like depth of Zoltanís upper line of cleavage. Any fingers silly enough to wander into the cave-like opening between the pecs faced certain destruction or worse if those cliffs of muscle were directed to freeze into the solid rock they promised they could become. "Just the best, Henry. Just the very, very best." Pickering stated refusing to take the bait of Henryís quip. The lats appeared like giant quarter-rounds of fortified tanned radial tires with surfaces etched in veined reinforcement. Both wheels spun out from hidden obliques whose lined splendor could not be disguised by the skin tight girdle of tank top fabric. Zoltanís abs billowed in and out under the heavy breathing of his recent struggle each appearing as if a steel saucer had been inserted upside-down under the shirt. "Zoltan is over 340 pounds now, Henry, and I expect that he can add another fifteen to twenty pound before the contest." Pickering proclaimed. "Even from everything Iíve seen and heard about your remarkable Mr. Dolittle, I donít think youíll be able to match that come contest night." As the sweat shirt hit the floor, Zoltanís arms dropped to each side but, because of the expanse of latissimus meat, remained at about a 45 degree angle from vertical. The hugely mounded shoulders retained their enormous proportions curving, line by corded line, up into the wedge of trapezius muscle that guarded each side of the angular neck. "We donít need to match him, Hugh," Henry assured "we just have to present a better claim to the value of real muscle Ö and we certainly can, and will, do that." Zoltan raised one arm a began to curl an impossibly thick forearm toward vertical. His bicep swelled as the belly of the head-sized beef rolled both out and up trapped between the vast forearm and peaked shoulder. Lines began to chisel along the breadth and length of the expanding monster. Several of the lines grew deeper as the flesh divided into various individually cut bundles. Professor Higgins couldnít guess at what the ultimate size of the growing rock formation but placed its potential at well over 30" "Thatís enough!" Pickering suddenly interceded. "I think the Professor has gotten the idea. Thanks, Zoltan." "Your welcome, sir." Zoltan smiled as his assemblage of phenomenal muscle relaxed as much as possible and he turned to retrieve his outerwear. "Good day, Professor. See you at the ĎGalaxyí contest. The behemoth lumbered out. "Good luck, Henry." Pickering concluded. •


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