Hustler Sinbad: Book Two: Karl

Almost Caught


By Jason Jarman

When I got home, I was alone, and I spent all night getting to know that magic belt better. I pulled it and pulled it and jacked off millions of times. My cock kept getting longer, thicker and harder, and got my muscles bigger and bigger. Then, I decided I didn’t need to go to school anymore. I didn’t need to do anything anymore. I could take whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted.

The next big thing I did, two nights later, was what got me busted. I felt like it was time to get revenge on the Catholic church where the nuns used to pound the shit out of me. The place had it coming for a long time. A lot of kids had had serious shit done to them by the oh-so-good nuns and fathers.

First thing I did was to break all the stained glass windows. You’ll never guess how I did it. Well, I came real hard on them. That knocked them down! The sound of shattering glass woke people up all over the place.

Then I battered down the front door. The doors were huge thick wood and steel. Ancient stuff. It took another notch on my magic belt, but I busted those doors in a pile of big, jagged pieces. I made a fast run through the chapel and ripped up the pulpit and smashed all the benches. Tore down some tapestries, then I snow-boarded on the big shards of colored glass. Had one of them slash my thigh, but the wound healed in seconds.

I jacked off all over the inside. I was so happy, and I just kept coming and coming. By now I heard massive sirens. Excellent! I had to figure out a grand finale.

I broke through the roof of the church and stood looking down. I could see a swarm of red and blue lights coming my way. Then I saw a big rig truck parked around the corner from the place. I knew I could pick it up. I snuck down some back stairs to the basement, and found a door that led out to the alleyway where the truck was parked.

I had to tighten the belt again a couple of times, and say the magic words. Shit, did I feel strong! I lifted the whole rig over my head.

I carried the truck back to the front of the church. By now the cop cars were practically there. I stood in front of the scene of destruction. I held the truck over my head and smiled. When the cops arrived, I could tell they were scared, though they didn’t try to show it. One of the cops aimed his pistol at me. I aimed my cock at him. I shot a hard stream of sperm towards him and he shot me with his gun. The bullets bounced off my big fucking chest. My cumshot knocked the gun out of his hand and sent it skittering down a sewer drain.

I held the truck up with one hand. Then I laughed and tightened my belt again. I got even bigger. My cock did, too.

“Watch this, pigs,” I said with a sneer. The truck went up in the air like it was a feather. Then I threw it, hard, into the church. There was an explosion and the roof of the church caved in. I heard sirens and I decided: what the fuck? How could anyone stop me when I was like this?

SHALAH KARALI UTUM. I tightened my magic belt another notch and scowled at them. Big power bolts lit up the sky as I yanked. The cops looked freaked. I decided to add their little toy cars to the scene. So I grabbed six or seven of those cars (one at a time) and threw them hard into the flaming destroyed church. One car I crushed like a pop can in my palms. The cops were bouncing bullets off my muscles, but they just flew right back at them. One stupid cop got shot by his own bullets.

I ran out of things to destroy, and then I heard the sound of a helicopter, getting closer and closer. I thought to leap up and grab it out of the sky, and I tightened my belt another notch to get ready. I looked all pissed-off at the cops and flexed my guns and stroked my cock again.

One stupid cop fired at my back. I felt the bullets bounce off my butt cheeks. While I turned around to deflect some off my chest, I heard a spraying sound. A sickeningly sweet gas filled the air. I tried not to breathe, but I got a lungful, and it stung like hell. I gasped for breath and took even more in.

I started to feel dizzy, and I tried to shrug it off. I plowed into the cops and started cracking some skulls. I could feel myself getting weak, but I was still stronger than 1000 of those donut-eaters. My cock got cum all over the cops’ uniforms.

Then I fucking lost it. The cops surrounded me. They had these little tazer things, little stun guns, and they kept zapping me and zapping me. I kept trying to reach for the strap of my magic belt, but they zapped me every time my arms went down below my chest.

Two cops grabbed my arms and shoved them over my head. Then a rope lowered from the copter, I guess, and they tied my arms tight and the copter lifted me off the ground. The fuckers surrounded me. They slapped leather restraints around my wrists, and somebody pried off my magic belt. The buckle burned his hands something serious. He screamed as he dropped the red-hot buckle.

Shit! I passed out.

I woke up in a room with bars on the windows. I was alone. I remembered everything with a start. I checked myself out. My muscles were still huge, and my cock dangled down to my knee. I flexed my right bicep and it was big and shiny and plump. Maybe I didn’t need that belt to be a big stud.

I tried the bars on the window, and I could bend them a little bit, way more than the toughest jocks at school could manage, but it wasn’t enough. So I got back in bed and waited for someone to come in.

And, sure enough, three of them came in, full of questions:

"Where did you get the belt?"

"How does it make you so strong?"

"Why did you destroy the church?"

All that shit. I just played dumb. Said I found the belt in a parking lot. They were really pissed off that they couldn’t make it work. Apparently, every guy on the force had tried it on, and while they got all huge when they tightened the belt, the effects went away when they let go the strap.

I was just a kid. I came from a broken home. I had a lot of reasons to be pissed. I just played along and acted like a dumb, scared 15 year-old.

Then some "church ladies" came in. You know the kind? They act so nice and talk to you like you're a retarded baboon. They explained to me that it was decided I was going to go to this halfway house in Springfield. I could learn a trade and become a normal citizen and forget about this incident.

The church ladies left. One of them gave me a little Bible.

Then some more donut-huffers came in. One of them made a huge fucking blunder. They mentioned where the belt was. I acted like I was half-awake in the hopes that they would slip up. One of them, a walrus-mustached lard-ass in a gray polyester shirt, said, “Science Lab, Room 434A, in the locked case.”

On their way out, I got a glance at my room number. It was 333B. Shit, the belt was almost right above me! My cock got seriously huge when I had that thought. That was when the belt heard me.

I got this buzzing in my head, like a brain wave, and I could visualize where my belt was. I got this scene in my head of a flimsy sheet-metal file drawer, one of those wide, flat ones, with a dime-store lock on it. The belt was coiled up inside, with a tag attached to one of the notch-holes: EXHIBIT A.

As soon as I could visualize the belt, I felt it sending out its lightning bolts of power. Then I felt myself getting bigger and stronger. Shit! The bolts were coming down through the air conditioning system. I went over to the duct so they could strike my muscles. They made me bigger and stronger.

I concentrated real hard on the belt. SHALAH KARALI UTUM, I thought, and then:

Magic belt, this is Sinbad, your master. Give me the strength I deserve.

Some serious bolts shot down the duct and went into my chest and arms. They bulged out all big and veiny. Damn! I tried even harder:

Magic belt, this is Sinbad, your master. Give me the strength I deserve.

The bolts got stronger and thicker and I could feel every muscle in my body growing and thickening. My hospital gown began to come apart at the seams. I crunched my brow and sweat was beading on my body. Then I said it out loud, in a shout:

“Magic belt, this is Sinbad, your master! Give me the strength I deserve!”

I visualized the belt breaking through the cheap metal, smashing it again and again, relentlessly. I saw it busting the lock, and coming down the air-cooling duct, right to my waist.

I focused harder and harder on that thought, and suddenly I heard a distant crumpling of metal, the jingle of broken glass, and, finally, a sliding thump down the tin duct. The belt was on the other side of the duct, pounding at the panel. It knew I was its master, and that it belonged with me.

Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! The screws in the panel fell out of the wall, one by one. Then, finally, the panel plate fell on the floor and the magic belt fell into my hands. The special leather pants were right there with them.

The minute we made contact, shit! I strapped that shiny leather around my waist and pulled that sucker for all I was worth! The belt was back to 13 notches. It knew that I needed all the strength and muscles I could get, so I said the magic words that made the belt stronger: SHALAH KARALI UTUM. I said it over and over, and every time I said it, more notches appeared in the strap. When I had 10 new ones, I shut up and yanked on that leather hard.

Like magic, appropriately, I drew the long leather strap through the buckle with one smooth tug. All the furious bolts of power ricocheted off the wall and socked me hard in my arms, chest, neck and cock. When I was done pulling, and buckled the belt at notch 22, my waist was so small I could put both hands around it and touch fingers to the second joint. I flexed my monster biceps and I knew I was ready.

My hospital gown was long gone. I saw my clothes, folded in a neat pile atop a table. I didn't want to waste time dressing. I thought about going out the front way, just to make a show of things. But then, it seemed like a sneaky exit out the window would serve me better.

Those bars came off like cardboard. I had a hard time fitting through the window, and I did finally have to rip the window out of the wall, which made alarms go off, but fuck the alarms.

I jumped out the window, and then I realized that I could fly like a bird. I floated in the air, and then I willed myself to go up in the sky. Damn if I didn’t! I got 50 feet in the air, and I could see down below: the cops were really pissed off! But they couldn’t see me and I had the magic belt. The anchor was protecting me once again. I knew I had to get out of town, quick.

But I couldn’t do that buck-naked. First, I landed in some woods and pulled on my pants. I had to take off the belt to get them on, so I had the pleasure of notching up again. I watched my thighs fill out the pants legs. The skin of the pants stretched to perfectly fit my thighs, ass, cock and balls.

I needed something else to wear, so I broke into a leather goods shop and took a black leather tank top, trench coat and cowboy hat. I looked really hot and the leather felt so good on my skin. Well, goodbye old me. Sinbad was here to stay! •

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