Shane and his Muscle-Belt

Doctor Z's Secret!


By Jason Jarman

“So nice to see you again,” Doctor Z’s voice boomed. “I do wish you’d called first. The place is rather a shambles.” The Doctor paused, as if Shane or Justin might have something to say. Shane just glowered at the speaker.

The Doctor cleared his throat. “I see you’ve encountered my Adonis Corps… most of them are asleep right now. And you’ve had a skirmish with Herbie. He’s one of my finest creations.”

“What the fuck is that thing?” Justin asked.

“Herbie is a creation of your mind. I would love to see exactly what he looked like to you. It’s a home security device I invented. I won’t bore you with the details, but it involves a mild hallucinogen and carefully controlled air currents. It seems to have appeared quite real to you both.”

“Why have that shit?” Shane said.

“To keep people away. People who might be wondering what an old man does out here in the woods, in such a big old place.”

“Well,” Justin said, “what about that beach behind your house? We were out there. I felt the water, the waves…”

“That, dear boy, is Adonis Island. How you got there would require too much explanation. When there’s more time, later, I’ll try to explain it in logical terms. It’s no illusion, though… the island is quite real, and you were there, thousands of miles away…”

As his voice reverberated from the overhead speakers, thick walls of steel silently slid down around the two muscle- gods. Shane didn’t notice them until they locked shut, flush with the floor. “What the fuck?”

“Don’t be alarmed. I doubt these walls could contain you long, with the power you possess. But they will keep others out, and provide us with a soundproof environment. There is something I must tell you… something of great urgency and importance. Something I should have told you from the first day I gave you the muscle-belt.”

Shane interrupted. “Hey, uh, we brought that dude Rich here. That’s why we come. You said you wanted to talk with him…”

The voice paused. “That is what I need to discuss so very urgently with you, before Saylor finds us. I regret to tell you that your friend may have met an untimely end. It was not planned, I assure you…”

The Doctor’s fancy words baffled Shane. “Somethin happen to him?”

“About three minutes before your last bout with Herbie,” the Doctor’s voice boomed, “Mr. Boyce encountered the leader of my Adonis Corps… a brute named Saylor Markus, who has gotten a bit out of control. Now that I have given you the power of the belts, you must help me! He is going to ruin my life’s work.”

“Who the fuck is Saylor?” Shane was getting angry. He could feel his muscles surging with strength.

“I haven’t told you about him before. I thought it best to… well, how did you think I was able to move all those heavy supplies to the storefront? That bag with your belt, Mr. Hardin, weighed 800 pounds… Saylor has been my right- hand man for over 30 years. He was the original test subject for the muscle-belt. Hence the anchor design on the buckles, in honor of his name. He insisted upon that little touch…”

Doctor Z continued. “He was a faithful servant, and, I might add, a superb sexual partner. But over the past few years, he’s gotten quite out of hand, and I’m afraid I’ve given him too much power. It’s gone to his head. He was always of a brusque temperament, but now he is vicious. Amoral. He’s forced me to continually increase the power in his belt. His belt now contains three times the power of yours, Mr. Hardin. It took over 30 years to harness all the power in his belt. Otherwise, I’d give you a belt with twice his power. But I wouldn’t live long enough to create and refine the atomic energy…

“Saylor’s strength is too great for me to control any longer. As it is, I have to resort to tranquilizing drugs. And those, I must use in such high dosages… it’s quite expensive. And they’re less effective all the time. I urge you not to cross his path until I can provide the three of you with enough power to defeat him! Together, I believe the three of you stand a chance of overpowering and conquering this brute. This you must do, and do quickly! I know you must be furious about Mr. Boyce. It was an accident, and I do regret it, but I fear Saylor has put your Mr. Boyce permanently out of commission…”

Shane felt rage in his heart. “Fuck, dude, you didn’t have to kill him! We tole him we’d get things straight.”

“It was not my doing! I’m trying to make this as clear as possible. Mr. Hardin, I regret it. My plans were to simply erase portions of his memory. Through hypnotism and careful use of lasers, it can be easily done. He could return to his everyday life, with no memory of seeing you at all. But something happened between Mr. Boyce and Saylor, and I’m afraid things took a turn for the worse.”

Shane’s body surged with anger and raw power. “I’ll kill the fucker! Let me at him, dude!”

“I warn you… his strength is greater than yours! We must plan an ambush… we must plan carefully!”

“I got my plan right here!” Shane screamed as he tugged hard on his muscle-belt. Huge blinding bolts of pure power, thick and massive, coursed from the buckle, ricocheted off the thick steel walls, and engorged Shane’s arms and pecs. Shane roared as his muscles expanded beyond any conceivable size. He gunned the belt with one hand, and ripped back the thick steel with the other. In his anger, it felt like tearing a page out of a magazine. Justin stood back in complete awe His cock rose to full, throbbing attention at this sight.

“No! Mr. Hardin! Don’t! You will regret it…”

Shane ignored the Doctor’s pleas. He stalked down the hall, his shoulders so wide they scraped the walls. “Saylor!” his deep voice boomed. “Where the fuck are you, Saylor?” Shane’s voice woke up the sleeping boys, and as they entered the hallway, they quickly backtracked. No one wanted to tangle with the muscle-monster that Shane had become!

Shane reached the end of the hall. He entered the room where he’d last seen Rich. It was empty, save for one young man. He looked like he was 18 or 19. He stood at 6’3”, with sparkling brown eyes and olive skin, his hair cropped short, with long sideburns and a trimmed goatee. He wore a black satin tank top and black leather jeans. On the tank top was a golden anchor, swathed with ropes. His pierced nipples stood up firm and erect under the tight satin. The V-shape of his 70” chest leading down to his taut 20” waist was incredible.

His veiny, massive arms were covered with tattoos… there were anchors on his biceps, lightning bolts on his forearms and the phrase #1 MUSCLE BOY on one of his upper arms. The bulge in his crotch was enormous. Around his waist was a belt with a huge diamond-shaped buckle. It was a “sailor’s belt,” like Kevin’s, but more elaborate. The leather was six inches wide, and the buckle had incredible detail. It showed an anchor swathed with rope and chains, with a stormy seascape, clouds and streaks of lightning behind it.

Saylor eyed Shane with empty contempt. “Who the fuck are you?” he said.

“I’m Shane Hardin!”

“Oh, yeh. Doc tole me about you… the new golden boy…” Saylor sneered, and his belt buckle sparked and whined. “Doc didn’t tell me he gave you a muscle-belt. How many notches on yours?”


“Mine has 25.”

Shane studied his opponent’s belt. The notches, in double rows, went right up to the buckle. Saylor wore his belt at 11 notches.

“You’re kinda big, dude. What, you’re only on 15 notches? You really think you can kick my ass? I have 14 fresh notches. That’s hella power, dude. You really think you can beat that?”

“Why’d you hurt my buddy?”


“Rich. The guy I left in here.”

Saylor sneered. “Oh, that skinny little shit-mouth. He started freakin out on me. Callin me names, tryin to smash my belt. Look, he scratched the buckle.” Saylor pointed to a small nick in the golden metal. “He went ballistic. I didn’t know who the fuck he was. Doc told me to deal with all intruders. Take care of ‘em. You’re the only one he told me to lay off. You and the other two. I didn’t know he was with you.”

“Did you kill him?”

“I don’t know. I tossed him in the basement. He’s in a cell,” Saylor said.

Justin entered the room. He saw Saylor and gasped. Justin stood beside Shane. He felt fear in his heart.

Saylor smiled. “Well, well! Who’s this sweet little twink?” The bulge in Saylor’s crotch swelled. “Hi, honey! I got somethin right here fer you!” Saylor rubbed the leather bulge.

“The doctor never tole me about you,” Shane said.

Saylor’s eyes were on Justin. “He was saving me for a surprise. He calls me his ‘ultimate creation.’ You better believe it!”

“Why?” Shane scoffed.

Saylor turned and looked Shane dead in the eyes. “I’m way stronger than you’ll ever be.”

“Prove it.”

“OK, dude.” Saylor peeled off his tank top and his jeans. His muscles were high, hard and shiny, his smooth skin studded with thick blue veins. His cock hung down past his knees. The shaft was tattooed, with Saylor’s name and other decorations.

His belt buckle was ready for him. Thick shots of power blasted from the anchor on the buckle. Saylor breathed deep, clenched his teeth, and grabbed the leather on his muscle-belt. He flexed his free arm, making a massive gunshot, and yanked the leather hard. Blinding peals of lightning, accompanied by squealing and crackling, filled the room. Shane felt the aftershock of the bolts.

Saylor concentrated and, in one fierce tug, pulled his muscle-belt six notches. “That’s 17, dude! One more than you’ll ever have!” Saylor buckled his belt and stood before Shane. He flexed his guns. His cock spurted pre-cum in Shane’s face. It tasted bitter and smelled foul. “Check out my guns! Measure ‘em! There’s a tape on the table there.”

Justin unrolled a long measuring tape and wrapped it around Saylor’s flexed bicep. The flexed muscle stretched the tape at 79 inches.

“Now measure yours.”

Justin taped Shane’s guns. “71 inches…”

“My guns are 8 inches bigger than yours! Top that, stud!”

“Fuck you!” Shane tried to tackle his foe with full force and strength. He just ricocheted off Saylor’s heaving pecs. Shane fell to the ground. He got up again. The buckle on his belt was charged. Shane rubbed it hard, and it forced thick waves of power into his muscles. Shane flexed his guns again. They were now 80 inches. “I got the muscle- power of 1,000 men!”

“Big fuckin deal.” Saylor rubbed his buckle, and his guns bulged out to 90 inches of ripped, veiny muscle. “Give up.”

“Fuck you!” Shane struck Saylor in the stomach with his hardest punch. The impact made the foundations of the floor shake. It didn’t even move Saylor. Shane’s fist hurt. He stepped back, reeling in pain. “I’m gonna kick yer fuckin ass!”

Shane pulled his muscle-belt harder than he’d ever done. A flood of titanic power exploded from the buckle. The tight leather crushed his tiny waist. Shane flexed his free arm, filling the peaked, throbbing, veiny muscle with size and power. He felt the lightning surge in his pecs and shoulders, filling his thighs and calves, wracking every fiber of his mighty young body. He pulled the belt past the last notch and, with great strength, pushed the buckle prongs through the leather to create a crude but functional 17th notch.

“Now we’re even.” Shane buckled the belt, with a final blast of lightning. He flexed his guns. They were 90 inches now. During all this, Saylor hadn’t even budged. He didn’t look worried.

Shane charged Saylor again, and his blows had much more power. The impact of one punch caused a window to shatter. With that punch, he pushed Saylor off his feet for a moment. Saylor fought back, sending a sharp blow to Shane’s gut. Another one smashed Shane’s jaw. Saylor’s strength was unbelievable.

Shane was not giving up. He concentrated and summoned more power from his muscle-belt. Shane hammered Saylor’s pecs, face and torso with both his arms, pounding with all his might. Saylor just laughed. Then he grabbed Shane’s arms. He pulled them behind Shane’s back. “Slow down, junior.” Saylor’s grip hurt Shane.

Shane struggled. “Let me go, you shit!”

Saylor’s grip crushed into Shane’s muscular arms. “I’d watch who I called names around here, boy. You can’t break free. Give up.”

Shane stopped fighting Saylor’s grip. He fumed with anger. Saylor looked Justin in the eyes. “Unless you do just what I say, I’m gonna rip this punk’s arms off.” Saylor tugged hard on Shane’s arms. Shane screamed with pain. Saylor smiled. “Then he’ll never be able to use his muscle-belt again.”


“You address me as ‘sir’.”

“Yes, sir.”

Saylor grinned. “You’re smart. Now. If you wanna live, take his belt off, and then yours. Drop em on the floor an back off.”

“Don’t you hurt him,” Shane said. His belt sent violent shots of power, making his pecs and guns flare with size. But it wasn’t enough to conquer Saylor’s strength. Saylor twisted Shane’s arms again, and Shane cried out. Shane’s body was slick with sweat, and he desperately tried to force his way out. Saylor’s relentless grip was like solid iron.

“I’m sorry, Shane,” Justin said. He pried the buckle away and pulled out the leather. The heavy belt sparked and fell to the floor. Then Justin unbuckled his muscle-belt and let it drop.

With the power of the muscle-belt gone, Shane felt defenseless in Saylor’s hard grip. He felt Saylor’s hard-on throbbing against the small of his back.

“Yer hella sexy for a punk,” Saylor said. “I got half a mind to fuck yer brains out right here. But I’ll come for you later.” Saylor looked around, then called out. “Front and center, Control Squadron!”

Six teenage boys, some of them naked, entered the room. Shane saw that they all wore muscle-belts. Two of them had lengths of rope. “What are you gonna do to me?”

“My men are gonna tie you up. Then we’re gonna put you down below. When yer daddy gets here, maybe we’ll let you boys go. But you ain’t goin nowhere for now.” He handed the muscle-belts to another boy. “Take these to the Doc. If you try em on, I’ll fuckin break yer neck.”

“Yes, sir,” the boy replied. He slung the belts over his shoulder and left the room.

Justin watched, near tears, as one of the boys bound Shane’s mighty arms with thick, coarse rope. Then he was blindfolded. Shane was led into another room.

Saylor grabbed Justin by the hand and smiled. “You’re a sweet little twink. Even without that belt.” Saylor stroked his enormous engorged cock. “I’d tear yer cherry lil ass up with this tool of mine. I got half a notion to plow yer fields. To stick it in so deep you’d have my cum runnin outta yer ears.”

Saylor kept stroking his cock. It was so huge… the thought of having it up his ass frightened Justin. His tears streaked down his face. “Aw, it’s cryin! We hurt its lil feelins!” Saylor laughed, and then the other boys laughed because they had to.

“Here’s a sample of what you got cummin to ya later, punk.” Saylor pumped his cock. It was so long, hard and thick… the veins covering the shaft pulsed and throbbed. “I’m thinkin about yer tight cherry ass… about yer cries of pain… stickin this beef so deep down it comes out yer mouth… oh… oh YEAH…”

Saylor’s first cum shot hit Justin in the chest. It hit with such force that it knocked him on the ground. Saylor’s cum kept shooting, in thick chunky globs, all over Justin. One shot hit Justin in the face. The cum smelled nasty and bitter.

“OK,” Saylor said, shaking the rest of his spunk all over the room. “Hose this poor twink off. Then tie him up with the other punk.”

One of the boys handed Justin a large towel. Justin could see sorrow in the boy’s eyes. Some of the others were laughing and grinning. Justin felt completely humiliated. He could see, though, that everyone in the room was clearly terrified of Saylor. And with good reason… •

This collection was originally created as a compressed archive for personal offline viewing
and is not intended to be hosted online or presented in any commercial context.

Any webmaster choosing to host or mirror this archive online
does so at their sole discretion.

Archive Version 070326