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Mentor, The
Chris and his god
«11»
By
"Hello" "Chris?" "Yes." "This is Mark, returning your call." pause. "Oh. Hi. I thought I wasn't going to hear from you." "Just busy working out and growing." "Ya, I know how that is. Uhm do you..." "No, you think you know how it is, but you don't know how that is. I'm coming over. Where are you?" "Uhm... I'm at the gym. I got a work study job, and I close up. I'll be off in a half hour, though." "Ya, you'll be off, or get off anyway. I got a HUGE surprise for you. I know where the gym is. Wait there, I'll be over by closing time." "Sure, uhm, I mean I'd like to see you." "No dude, you're going to LOVE to see me, and more." Mark hung up the phone. He had bought a wrestling singlet like Chris had warn, except his was two sizes larger. He needed the extra room in the chest and legs. He put it on. Next, Mark injected himself with two shots, one of the muscle enhancer and one of Jim's formula. Finally, he put on a sweat suit he. had purchased. It was the largest sweat suit the store had. and looked like a circus tent, but it did manage to hide Mark's huge musculature. He walked over to the college, getting to the gym five minutes after it closed. Mark saw Chris waiting outside. "Hey," said Chris, extending his hand. Mark nodded, and ignored Chris's hand. He walked to the door. It was locked. Turning to look at Chris, he announced, "Let's go inside." "It's closed," said Chris, a bit wary of Mark's attitude. "You got keys, right?" "Well ya, but..." "Hey, if you don't want to see me, I can leave." Mark took a step away. "Oh sure," said Chris quickly. "I guess we can go in for a second." He unlocked the door. Mark entered followed by Chris who had locked the door behind him. Mark saw the sign for the men's locker room and walked in. "You got a locker here?" Chris walked across the room, and pointed. "I thought..." "That's your first mistake. Don't think. I'll do the thinking. Your gear in here?" "Ya, if you mean my wrestling stuff. Probably needs to be washed..." "Put it on." Chris hesitated. "NOW!" Chris opened the locker. He pulled out a red singlet and laid it on the bench. He looked at Mark, and thought about asking what was going on, but then thought better of it. He pulled off his shirt, and flexed his 50 inch chest. He stretched out his broad shoulders, and twisted to give Mark a good look at his prize-winning physique. Chris then unbuttoned his jeans, and slipped them down. He wore boxer briefs, and knew his huge cock made quite a bulge. He stepped out of his pants, and flexed his 28 inch thighs, squeezing his 19 inch calves into a hard diamond shape. Next he lowered his briefs, bending over to obscure Mark's view of his horse cock. Chris looked up, and saw a glint in Mark's eye. 'Ya, he's enjoying this show.' Mark stood up, his cock beginning to swell to its huge ten inches. "Mind if I skip the jock?" he asked, giving his cock a quick stroke. "You asked," replied Mark. "That's good. You don't need a jock for your little fella there. I have other plans for him." Chris noted the use of the word 'little'. Not many guys could say that about Chris, but Mark was one of the exceptions. His cock got harder at the thought of the bigger boy ordering him around. Chris was always the big one, dominating others with his size and strength. He couldn't do that to Mark, though he remembered the kid being close to him in size. Chris pulled the singlet on over his thighs, and slipped it over his chest. He arranged his huge cock so that it lay against his right leg. He looked at Mark. "Take me to where you practice," ordered Mark. Chris didn't say a word. He exited the locker room, and walked down a long hall. He entered a small room, and turned on the lights. The floor was matted. "This is it," he said. "It will do," replied Mark. "You seem to be getting the idea. I'm in charge here, and you do what I say." "Ya know," started Chris, but before he could finish, Mark stepped forward. Placing one hand on Chris's shoulder, he shoved. Hard. Chris was taken by surprise, tripped backwards and landed on the mat. "Hey!" he yelled. "I didn't give you permission to speak, boy." Mark stood over Chris, arms crossed. "I don't need your fucking permission," said Chris, beginning to get up. "What are you going to do about it?" Mark snarled. Chris snarled back. With a sudden move, he lunged at Mark, ramming his shoulder into Mark's stomach with his full force. Chris cried, "ooph" as the wind was knocked from his lungs, his legs buckling and falling backward on the mat. Mark didn't move. "Was that suppose to do something boy," he said, not cracking a smile. Chris looked at him. Mark unzipped the sweat jacket he wore, and slowly peeled it off his body. Chris's eyes widened as Mark's massive chest and thin waist were revealed. Mark's shoulders were massive builders on top of tree sized arms. "Shit... you're huge," he said with a hint of awe in his voice. "You weren't that big last week." "I'm a growing boy. Growing huge. Growing strong. Growing powerful," bragged Mark as he began to pull down the sweat pants to reveal his thick, ripped thighs and calves. "I'm way bigger and stronger than you." Chris's mouth went dry as he took in every portion of this massive teen. His eyes were drawn to a bulge that had to contain a cock at least as big as his, except Mark was still soft. "How?" Chris begged. "You want answers, you gotta prove you deserve them." Mark raised his hands, palms facing his body, and signalled, "bring it on." Chris assessed the muscle kid, and decided surprise was his best offense. He stood up and feined running toward Mark. At the last second, he dropped to the ground and kicked at Mark's legs, trying to bring him down. Mark was surprised, he wobbled to maintain his balance but his mighty legs easily absorbed the wrestler's attack. Chris lay on the ground, stunned. Mark took the advantage. Standing over Chris, he raised a leg and placed it on Chris's chest, exerting enough force to hold the college athlete down. Chris grabbed at Mark's calf. It felt like steel, and was almost as large as his own thigh. He tried to lift Mark's leg, flexing his pecs and trying to arch his back. Mark wouldn't move. "FUCK!" he screamed, trying to call upon his full strength, all to no effect. "How strong are you!" Mark let his leg down a bit more. "Strong enough to stomp on you like a bug unless you say 'uncle'." Chris tried one last time to move Mark. He failed. "Arghhhh," he screamed as Mark increased the pressure on his chest slightly. "Alright! UNCLE!" he screamed. Mark smiled. "Good boy." He moved his leg and grabbed Chris under his arms, lifting him from the floor. He wrapped his arms gently around Chris and kissed him. "That's your reward for realizing you couldn't win," he said, "but now it's my turn. You want to know how strong these big muscles are? Let me flex'm for ya." Holding Chris, Mark began to flex his muscles. Chris felt Mark's body change from flesh to marble as Mark's muscle bellies began to dig into his body. Chris felt himself being pushed backward by Mark's expanding pecs, and pushed forward by Mark's boulder-size biceps. He flexed instinctively, but his own substantial muscle could provide only a moment's reprieve. Chris's hard body was no match for Mark's power, as Chris found himself being crushed by Mark's flex. Chris's breath became shallow as he couldn't expand his chest to take in air. His face flushed as his body was squeezed tighter and tighter by Mark's expanding muscle. "STOP!" Chris cried, but Mark continued to flex. A tear ran down Chris's cheek as he felt the hug get tighter and tighter. Suddenly, Mark let go. Chris fell to the ground, gasping for air. "Shit man, I wasn't even fully flexed," said Mark. He stood over Chris and struck a most muscular pose. Chris had never conceived as such muscles, the width, the thickness, the striations and vascularity. "God..." he said. "Yes, I am your god. Your muscle god." Mark saw Chris's cock begin to expand in his pants. "You want to worship your god, don't you?" "Yes," said Chris. Mark said nothing, just stared. "Please," Chris begged. He moved his hand to his growing cock, and rubbed it. "Please." "Do you want to touch yourself? Strip slave," Mark ordered. Chris pulled on his singlet, and slipped his right arm out, then his left. He pulled the top down over his pecs and six-pack, then off of his legs. His cock jumped up a good inch above his belly button. Mark walked over and rubbed Chris's pecs. "You have a nice body, for a little guy. Would you like to see my chest, slave?" Chris nodded. "Please." "Please what?" Chris thought. "Please god, please." Mark nodded. "You may start by taking off this top, slave." Chris jumped up. He reached for the strap that held Mark's singlet, and slid it over Mark's shoulder. Chris rubbed Mark's thick upper arm, trying to judge just how big it was. He let the strap drop, then did the other side. Mark grabbed the top and slid it down over Mark's abs. "Show me your arm, slave. Flex it," Mark ordered. Chris obeyed, forcing his olympian-calliber bicep into a hard peak. "How big did you say it was?" "21 inches, sir," Chris said. Mark smiled, and raised his arm next to Chris's. Flexing, Chris's bicep disappeared behind an arm thicker and strogner than his. "Mine are 28 now, slave. You may feel your god's arm." Chris released his flex, and put his hands on Mark's arm. It was huge. Hard. Alive. He moved his face to it and kissed it. Looking to Mark, he asked, "May I lick it? Please sir? Please let me worship more of you?" Mark didn't respond. A look of panic overtook Chris. "PLEASE!" he begged. Mark hesitated, then smiled. "Yes." Chris lunched to Mark's bicep, and wrapped his mouth over it, lapping at it like a hungry dog. He licked around it, and buried himself in Mark's armpit, taking in the musty odor of the man-god. "This arm is stronger than both your arms combined, boy. Do you want to see this arm at work?" Chris stopped. "Yes, please sir." "Kneel down!" Mark ordered. Chris obeyed. Mark kneeled in front of him, and extended his hand. "Try to move this arm. You may do whatever you want." Chris grabbed Mark's hand with his own. He positioned his arm for the most leverage. He pushed. His forearm thickened, and the peak of his bicep rose, but Mark's arm didn't move. In fact, Mark didn't react at all. "Try two hands," Mark suggested. "I can't even feel that." Chris relaxed. He put his other hand on Mark's arm and pushed. Both Chris's arms shook with the strain, but Mark's arm didn't budge. Chris put his full 220 pound weight behind it, and still Mark's arm didn't move. Chris moved to brace himself against a nearby wall. Grabbing Mark's arm, he pushed with his legs. Mark smiled as Chris's hams bulged and his shredded glutes flexed, his single hand repelling all the force in the college athlete's body. Chris screamed, getting his adrenaline going. His hold body quaked, and he began to rock back and forth, trying anything to move Mark's hand. Mark felt his body growing stronger, resisting Chris. The muscle enhancer was working as Chris's actions fueled the teen's growth. Chris was sweating with the strain as Mark held him at bay. "Give?" Mark asked. Chris stopped. He sat next to Mark. "You are a god. Fucking muscle monster!" Chris said with awe. "Yes, I am," agreed Mark. He moved to Chris and kissed him, and lifted him to his feet. Chris grabbed at Mark's pecs and began to sucked on the teen's thick lats. Chris's mind tryed to comprehend the size, hardness and power that Mark commanded. Chris felt Mark's hand move to his dick, and he began to stroke it. "Thank you, sir," Chris said as he bit and sucked on Mark's nipples. "Would you like to see your god's dick?" Mark could feel Chris's breath deepen with excitement. "You may remove my clothes," Mark said regally. Chris moved and kissed Mark's abs while his hands pushed at the singlet. Mark's monster cock, freed from its confines, jumped and smacked Chris in the side of the face. He moved his mouth to it and licked from the head to the base. Chris moved his cock next to Mark's, comparing them. Mark was at least three inches longer and much thicker than Chris's. "Damn, you're bigger than me everywhere," he sighed. Mark smirked, and flexed, forcing his cock to grow longer and fatter. He felt Chris's grip fail as he tried to hold both organs together. "That's not possible!" Chris said, trying to take in Mark's organ. Mark's head rose between his pecs, and he flexed, jerking his meat with his muscle. "God's can make anything possible," he said. Chris stroked his meat. He knew how much larger he was than most guys, and Mark was that much larger than him. Chris began to stroke his meat faster and faster at the thought of Mark. Mark could tell Chris was getting close. "You gonna cum slave?" He pulled Chris close to him, kissing him hard. Chris made a whimpering noise. "My body is so huge, so much bigger than yours. You know how my muscles feel. You like my big muscles, right slave? And look at my huge cock. The way I can flex my big chest and rub my cock between my thick, hard pecs." Mark grabbed Chris by the waist and lifted him up and holding him so Mark's cock ran between Chris's legs and Chris's cock was between Mark's pecs. "That's the way muscle feels on a dick, slave! My cock is so big, and my chest so strong, I can do that whenever I want. Do you like it, slave?" "OH GOD YES!" cried Chris. Mark continued to squeeze and flex around Chris's meat. He flexed his abs, forcing his monster cock into Chris's nuts. "I'm so much stronger than you. So much bigger. So much harder. Think about all my muscle and power." "Oh god!" screamed Chris as he shot his load, spraying his cream between Mark's pecs and onto his neck and chin. At the same time, Mark shot, his jism squirting into the air, running down Chris's back and in his hair. Mark looked into Chris's eyes longingly, kissed him, then put him down. "Did my slave like that?" Chris looked at Mark. "O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done; The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won; The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring." Mark smiled, and pulled Chris close to him, holding him. |
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