"Mark, wait," yelled Chris, "here's my cell. I'll call the police!"

"No fucking police can help here," Mark said. "Those wimps don't have half the muscle necessary to stop the guy who did this." Mark stepped through the doorway and heard voices upstairs.

"You got my formula, I got yours." It was Clint's voice.

"Fuck!" said Mark, running toward the kitchen. He grabbed several vials from the freezer. Picking up a syringe, he emptied every vial and injected himself frantically.

"What are you doing?" asked Chris, alarmed. "That much roids can kill you!"

"Not roids," said Mark, throwing the empty syringe and vials into the trash. "Time to rock 'n roll," he said, bounding up the stairs.

When he got to the room, he saw Clint lying on the bed. His massive back blocked most of Mark's view, but he saw two legs pressed against the wall, held by Clint's arms and struggling to break free from . The legs looked so thin compared to Clint's powerful arms, yet he recognized them as Jim's. Jim's powerful wheels seemed no match for Clint. Clint was bobbing up and down, rubbing against Jim. "Let! Him! Go!" Mark demanded.

"Mark," Jim cried. "Don't get involved!"

Clint didn't respond, but kept rubbing his cock against Jim's butt.

"I said to let him go asshole," Mark repeated angrily, taking a step forward.

"Mark," Clint said, his voice low and gentle, "this doesn't concern you. Your sister asked me to stop by and pick you up. She wants you home now, so you go pack like a good little boy while I show Jim what a real man can do!"

Mark marched toward Clint, reached out, and grabbed the man by his waist. Mark was amazed at the hardness of Clint's body, rock-hard muscle covered by warm, smooth skin and no fat. Mark pulled hard, determined to force Clint away from Jim. Clint didn't move at all. Mark pulled, but finally let go and took a step back.

"I said to start packing boy!" Clint snarled. "I got business here with Jim that doesn't concern you." For the first time, Clint turned his head and looked at Mark. "Now go!" he ordered with a tone that demanded compliance.

Mark didn't move, but stared at Clint, utter contempt in his eyes. From the doorway, he heard Chris gasp, "Holy shit!"

Clint's eyes darted to the door and he smiled. "You have a little friend, eh boy? Well, why don't the two of you go out and play. I'd hate to have your friend see me spank you for being bad," Clint chided.

Mark scowled. He raised his hand and as hard as he could, he smacked his open palm across Clint's bare ass. There was a sound like lightning striking as his hand hit. Mark's face showed the pain at having hit Clint's unflexed glutes, whose steely hardness deflected the powerful smack without even moving. Mark's hand hurt, and Clint just laughed.

"Was that suppose to do something?" Clint hissed.

"Mark, really, I don't wa..." Jim started.

"Shut up, wimp," Clint said angrily. "I can deal with this boy!"

"Think so," Mark said, flexing his chest.

Clint placed one hand on Jim's chest, and raised himself. Turning, Clint grabbed Mark's shirt and pulled him close. Jim started to sit up, but with his free hand, Clint slammed him back to the bed. Mark reached for Clint's arm, trying to free himself. Jim did the same, but Clint held both men fast.

"Kid," Clint said, "I'm way stronger than Jim. Way more of a man, in every way. You don't want to take me on."

Mark continued to struggle, then stopped. He looked into Clint's eyes. "Yes I do," he asserted. Turning to look at Jim, Mark's eyes softened, then hardened again as he looked at Clint. "And you'll need to be stronger than Jim to take me on," he said, reaching to where Clint was grabbing his shirt. Pulling, he ripped the shirt off, revealing his powerful pecs and ripped abs. He pulled the ragged shirt off his cannonball shoulders to reveal his thick arms. "Jim may have helped me get this perfect body, but I'm a growing boy and I already out muscled him. Now it's time for me to out-muscle you."

Clint laughed the type of belly laugh of someone who has just heard the funniest joke of all time. "Kid," he said, trying to catch his breath, "Superman and the Hulk combined couldn't out muscle me." He raised a bicep and moved it slowly to his face, rubbing his cheek lovingly against it then turning to lick it then kiss it. "You still lift'n weights?" he asked quizzically.

"I lift heavy," Mark replied.

"Ya, I did that, until the weights weren't heavy enough anymore. These muscles just got too fuckin' strong. Finally figured out that the only way to make them bigger and stronger was to pit them against something just as strong -- themselves. Good thing I'm an engineer. Had to devise pulley's and hydraulics and shit. Most of the shit was muscles against these redwoods," Clint said, flexing his legs into a river of flowing muscle. "Your puny weights aren't nothing compared to me."

Mark kicked hard at Clint's thigh, trying to surprise the man so he could break away. Nothing happened.

"You just don't get it, do you?" said Clint, pulling Mark close to him. "I could squash you like a big," he said, wrapping his hand behind Mark's head and pressing it into his pecs.

Clint flexed, and Mark felt like his skull was inside a nut cracker. He clawed desperately at Clint's titanium-hard chest, frantically trying to free himself.

"I could crush you like a grape," Clint bragged, flexing a bit harder to make his point.

For the first time, Mark began to panic. With all his might, he pressed into Clint's boulder-like pecs. He felt the massive muscle vibrate at Clint laughed at his feeble attempt. Mark's anger at this humiliation and his panic fueled his strength. With a massive push, he felt his hands push into Clint's powerful pectorals, and his head pop free.

Mark was breathing heavily, and he rubbed his cheek bones which had been pressed hard by Clint's powerful muscles. Jim noticed a look of surprise on Clint's face that Mark had actually been able to free himself, but that quickly faded.

"That's pretty good, kid," said Clint. "Looks like you got some muscle going on there, but it's not enough. Clint raised his arm, and flexed. His thick arm grew bigger, a massive bicep raising above a huge tricep. Clint smiled, and flexed a bit harder, causing thick fiberous striations to become visible in the impressive muscle head. "This one arm is stronger than you and little Jimmy here. Come on," he said, a twinkle in his eye, "try and unflex this boulder." Clint ran his free arm over the huge peak, then lifted it to his mouth and kissed it.

"Think a lot of yourself, don't you?" Mark asked, regaining his composure. He stood erect, expanded his chest and crossed his arms. "Well I don't."

"Boy," Clint snarled, "you don't want to feel the full brunt of my power, and you will if you don't get your ass in gear. You think you're tough, and that's real cute. I'm sure that's one of the things Jim here likes about you. But you ain't nothing but an ant compared to my muscle. I'm offering you a nice safe way to prove it to you. Just try and move this arm." Clint flexed his arm still harder, causing the river of veins to pulse just below the skin. Without moving his arm, he unclenched his fist and waved his fingers in come-hether dare.

"I'll fuck'n rip that arm of your off," Mark said, maybe a little less assuredly than he'd like. He reached a single arm up and grabbed Clint's wrist.

"Better use two hands," Clint said with a smile.

Mark scowled. He grabbed Clint's arm with both hands and tried to pull it down. Mark's forearms thickened as he pressed his fingers around Clint's wrist. His lats flared as he put more and more power into moving Clint's arm. Mark's own arms pumped, and he felt the juice flowing through his veins. He felt strong. He KNEW he was strong.

Clint's arm didn't move.

Mark redoubled his efforts. He felt his quads swelling in his shorts as he pulled with his legs. His abs crunched tight, turning his body into a muscle spring, his power concentrated on moving Clint's unmovable arm. He pressed hard with his legs. He felt stronger than he ever had before.

Clint smiled at Mark, but still, his mighty arm held fast. "Try harder," he said. Grinning to Chris, who was standing doe-eyed in the doorway, he said, "Come over here and feel some real muscle."

Chris moved close and put his arm on Clint's bicep. "Oh fuck," he said, feeling how hard and strong it was. He touched Mark's struggling arms, comparing them to Clint's. "Shit man," he said, a visible bulge growing in his pants. Clint laughed.

Mark let out a primal yell. He put all his muscle into pulling on the arm. He began to rock, jerking Clint's arm. It moved slightly, and Clint frowned a bit before flexing harder. Again, Clint's arm became immoveable, but Clint was a bit less cocky than he had been.

Mark pulled harder. He felt his muscles begin to cramp at the exertion. He was covered in sweat, working harder than he ever had before. His arms were shaking as he tried desperately to move the man's arm.

"You said you were stronger than both of us," said Jim, recovered enough to move. He pushed Chris aside and grabbed Clint's arm with Mark. Together they pulled.

Chris watched as Jim's body flexed. He compared the three mass monsters. Even though he was no slouch himself, he felt very small. His arms were twigs compared to these men. Jim was huge, but compared to Mark, he looked small and compared to Clint, he was absolutely puny. But what really amazed Chris was Mark. He knew Mark was big, but he looked huge now. Smaller than Clint, but it seemed like not by much.

Clint now had a determined look on his face. His arm was flexed hard, the veins pumping fast. His face was turning red, and his arm was beginning to shake.

"Chris, help us!" Mark said.

Chris came over, feeling the heat of the men's bodies. He was so much smaller than them, but he applied his muscle to theirs. Clint's immoveable arm began to move. Slowly at first. It moved down, then Clint fought back, pulling it up. His bicep bulged huge, and his cannonball delts were ripped into three distinct heads. Looking down Clint's arm, Chris imagined a mountain range trailing off into foothills of his delts and traps.

After about a minute, Clint's arm jerked down a bit. Clint was breathing heavy, and grunted, but was unable to regain his position. His arm moved down to a 60 degree angle, then 45, then 30. Slowly, the three men managed to straighten it.

Clint tried to pull away, but Mark held tight. "Thought you were so strong. I'm getting way stronger than you'll ever be."

"Took three of you to beat me," said Clint, anger in his eyes of being defeated.

"Ya, but we did, and I'm not going anywhere," said Mark.

"Your sister will never agree," said Clint, trying to free his arm.

"Tell her to come back in one month. Then, it will be just you against me. If I beat you, I go and stay where ever I want. If you win then, I'll go with you." To make his point, Mark pulled on Clint's arm, helped by Jim and Chris. Clint lunged forward, taken by surprise.

Clint growled. "I'll give it to you kid. You're damn cocky. OK. One month."

The three men let Clint go. He grabbed his clothes and walked out. As he stepped out of the house, Jen pulled up.

"Where's Mark?" she asked.

"He's not coming." Clint said, pushing past her.

"What? Why?"

"He's staying here for one more month. Then he's coming home. I'll tell you about it later. Now, I gotta get to the gym and train." Under his breath he muttered, "No one or even fucking three will be stronger than me." •