Hustler Sinbad: Book Two: Karl

Travis Hanft


By Jason Jarman

Ever since my dad gave me this belt, I've felt different. The belt made everything I've been trying for come true. I used to be this real quiet, chunky kid that no one ever noticed. No one picked on me--I would've preferred it if they did. I was just a good guy who did what he was told, and studied hard, and all that.

I had a period where I acted pretty bad around him. He never gets mad at me. It's weird, but that made me mad with him. I just wanted to see him get pissed off. But he never did. I finally realized how cool a dad he was, and I stopped giving him a hard time. I never let on--to him or anyone--that some of the boys at school made me excited. No one ever noticed me, but I sure noticed them. The popular jock boys, with their chiseled handsome looks and their tight, bulging muscles.

I was husky, and I did pretty good with football. But it never seemed like I could have a body like the popular jocks. Then we had a segment in PE on weight training. I liked it, and after the segment ended, I kept doing it. I made some immediate gains, and I found a great workout partner. I've been lifting weights every day for almost a year now. It's put some muscle on me. Nothing like a bodybuilder, but enough to make people notice.

Like, I actually have bicep muscles. Byron, my workout partner, measured them for me the other day. Right after an arm workout, they tape at 15 inches. They make a nice bulge when I flex my muscle. Almost nobody remembers that I used to be a fat-ass. In the hallways at school, it's always, "Flex your arms, Travis!" or "Make me a muscle!" The girls-- and a lot of the guys--give me the eye.

But I never felt sexy until I got this belt. It's so wide and shiny and it fits my waist so perfect. When I wear it, I get a little hard. I feel a little charge shoot through my body. It's hard to describe right. It's like the rush you get when you're about to jack off. I feel it non- stop when I wear this belt. There's something about it. The more I wear it, the more intense it gets. The feeling makes my dick get hard. When that happens, little sparks shoot off the buckle. Like little fingers of lightning. Weird! But those sparks make me feel really great. I have this urge to pull the belt really tight. I usually wear it way tighter than is normal.

And, like I said, I get boned a lot. I have to walk around school with my books over my crotch. Everybody asks me if I'm that guy they read about in the newspaper. I wish! If only I could have that kind of strength. I can bench press 165 for 12 reps. That's pretty good, huh? But nothing like being able to pick up a damn house with your bare hands.

Anyway, I've got a belt like that dude, and it makes me feel tougher and stronger. And, like I said, way hotter than I ever felt I could be. I walk along and I feel that wide warm black leather tight around my waist. I feel the sharp corners of the buckle touch my abs and the base of my dick. I feel the long strap slap my thighs. And I feel that constant rush, all over my body. Even when I don't tuck in my shirt, I feel it.

I've been jacking off like 20 times a day since I got the belt. My favorite thing is to get home, lock my bedroom door, and take off all my clothes. Then I stand in front of the mirror and look at myself. I've got a six-pack and pecs that rise up off my frame. They seem bigger when I wear the belt. So does my dick. I stand there, and slowly I put the belt on. I feel the buckle touch my navel, and slowly I pull the belt tight. It makes me get hard when I do this. That makes the buckle spark the best. The harder I pull it, the bigger the sparks get.

After I've got it pretty tight, I stop and fill my other hand with lube. Then I pull the belt as tight as I can--so tight it makes the veins stand up big on my bicep. I pull it tighter and tighter. The sparks turn into little lightning bolts. They shoot off the anchor on the buckle. I see them crackle in the mirror. My cock gets big and hard and red. It throbs and the head gets real shiny. Then I pump it. Right when I can almost feel the rush of cum, I stop. I let the feeling die down, then I start up again.

Every time, the bolts of lightning get bigger and more intense. I try to get through ten rounds of that, 'cause by that time, the rush is so sexy and wild I can hardly stand it. The bolts of lightning really shoot off the buckle. I feel super strong for a few minutes. When I cum, my shots hit the bedroom wall, and then all over the mirror. I get the belt so tight I can hardly breathe when I shoot my load.

It seems like my muscles are bigger after I've done this. This afternoon, when I did it, I brought along Byron's measuring tape. I measured my dick when it was really big and hard. It was 9 inches long. My bicep measured 21 inches for about an hour. Then it shrank back down to normal size. So did my dick.

I taped my waist yesterday, after I had worn the belt. pulled to the last notch, for an hour. It was 19 inches. That's 13 inches smaller than it usually is. I was afraid it would stay that small. Dad was sure to notice that. But, before he got home, it was big enough that I could wear my clothes like normal.

I haven't told anyone else any of this. I almost told Byron today. He likes my belt, too. He meets me every morning, before school, in the weight room. We take off our clothes, and then he asks me to put the belt around my waist naked--like I do by myself at home. He strokes the belt and feels me all over. Then we make out. He's a really great kisser. Then he sucks my cock and swallows my cum. It feels so good it drives me crazy. I do him after that. His cum is really sweet. Byron's my workout partner, and he's also the captain of the gymnastics team. His dad owns a Mercedes dealership. He's quite a stud. I never knew I liked boys until now. I think I'm falling in love with him.

Anyway, Byron gave me a pair of leather jeans for my birthday. Tonight I'm walking around downtown, wearing them outside for the first time ever. I'm kind of embarrassed, but also way way turned on. They're tight and shiny, they smell great, and they fit me like a glove. The belt looks so macho and so right strapped around my waist.

I'm also wearing my leather jacket. I heard from some of the boys at school that if you hang around downtown, near the power plant, and you look hot, that you can have some wild times. I don't think I'm ready for that--or that I even want that. My dad would kill me if he found out. My dad's a cop. I've had to be super careful--about the belt, about Byron, about everything. He's felt bad ever since he and Mom split up. I don't think he could handle knowing his son is a weirdo.

I'm not a weirdo, though. I don't know what I am, but it feels right. I do good in school, I do all my homework, I'm on the school paper and the yearbook staff, I play drums in the school band--I'm a good kid. I just happen to be a sexy good kid who gets sucked off in the weight room by the captain of the gymnastics team, a rich guy who's supposedly straight and has a girl-friend...

It gets confusing.

But, anyway, here I am, downtown at night. It's dark and cold and raining. The water beads up off my leather pants. They must be water-proof. I can see my hard-on press against the wet, shiny black leather. I can hardly walk right! I look down at my belt, and I can see the sparks all over the buckle. I feel that super-sweet rush all over my body. I'm really turned on.

I'm aware of the eyes of strangers. An old guy pulls up in an expensive sports car. His tinted window rolls down silently. "Hey, stud," he says. I don't respond. "You're a sweet piece of ass," he says. I ignore him. My dick is hard with excitement. I almost feel like, if the right guy showed up, I'd get in the car with him. But I know I can't do that. What if Dad caught me?

I'm wondering how I'm going to explain the leather pants to Dad when I get home. I wish I'd thought to stash a pair of regular jeans somewhere. I'm going to have to wait until I know he's asleep and sneak in...

A younger guy pulls up in a BMW. He's pretty hot. He's built like Byron. He looks me up and down and smiles. "Hey, leather boy!" He makes a kissing sound. "Want me to take care of your woody?" He's got big, thick lips. I'll bet he could get me off really great with those lips. But I turn my head away, after a quick look. He gets pissy and drives off. "Cock teaser!" he shouts in the distance.

Wow, I'm really hot to these guys! This is a thrill.

Then I'm aware of someone right above me. A shadow falls over me. I look up...

Damn, it's... it's him. The biggest muscle dude in the universe. He's completely naked. The rain drums off his shiny muscles. I see a pair of leather pants on the ground, plus a long coat. He must have just taken them off.

Then I notice the belt.

Or, rather, belts. He's got two of them on. They look exactly like mine, except they're wider, and the buckles are bigger. The buckles spark like mine--except the sparks are bigger, and they crackle and turn into bolts of lightning.

My first impulse is to run.

So I run. It's hard to run with a boner, and in tight leather pants, but I try. Then, suddenly, my feet don't touch the ground anymore. My legs spin through the air. I feel big, hard, warm hands under my arms. I look down. I'm off the ground. I'm rising up off the street!

"Well, well," a big, loud, dirty voice shouts in my ear. I wince. "Oh, is that too loud?" I nod my head yes. "The hillbilly is scared!"

I can barely speak. "Who... who are you?"

"Your voice has changed, Jethro." He lifts off my baseball cap and turns my head. It hurts my neck.

I look into his eyes. They're intense and sexy and beautiful. His face is super hot. But he looks crazy and pissed. "You're not him! Who the fuck are you?"


He drops me and I see the ground coming up fast. I don't even have time to be scared. Right before I hit the pavement, he catches me. He pulls me up into the sky again, higher than before. "Y-you can fly?" I ask.

"'You can fly?'," he says. He mocks my voice. "Yeah, dumshit, I CAN FLY. Who the fuck are you?"


"Just Travis? Or were your folks too broke to have a last name?"

"Travis Hanft. And my dad isn't broke." I feel the wind and rain whistle around me. I start to get scared.

He smiles. "Travis Hanft. What a cute name. Where'd you get that belt?"

"Somebody gave it to me."

"Not good enough." He drops me again. I fall fast, and not until I'm a foot away from breaking every bone in my body does he catch me.

We soar up to a rooftop. Once we get over the ledge, he drops me. I roll to a stop against a heat duct. My heart pounds. I'm scared shitless. He stands in front of me. He flexes his arms over his head. "Wh--what do you want?"

"Not much." He kneels down so he can look into my eyes. "You're just some skinny little shit kid, aren't you? Pretending that you're like me." He laughs so loud it makes my head hurt. "As if."

He reaches down to my belt. "Does it even work?" He pulls on the leather. He pulls it way past the last notch, so tight and hard that it hurts. He makes the buckle spark a little bit. "Only a little. Not like mine. Hardly worth wearing, loser." He lets go, and the unbuckled belt falls loose around my waist. "Fix it."

With trembling hands, I tighten the belt. While I do so, I stare at the belts around his waist. The buckles look like they're alive. They pulse like a heart beating. All sorts of little crackles and lightning bolts shoot out of them. "Like what you see, little man?"

I nod yes.

"You've heard about me, haven't you?"

I nod my head yes again. "You're the guy who threw the house in the air..."

He nods. "And you knocked over that big office building into the lake... and tossed that big wrecking ball into the street..."

He reaches down and touches my crotch. "Why, little man, you're as hard as a rock. You must really like what you see."

I nod yes. "I like how strong and sexy you are."

"Well, so do I. Fucking love it!" I feel the head of his cock run up my torso. It smacks me in the face. It pulses hard and fast. It's shiny red and sperm oozes lazily out of the urethra.

"Taste it."

I have no choice. I lick his dick's head. The first taste of his sperm changes my life. It's like the sweetest, richest, spiciest, manliest thing in the world. I lick it and roll it around my mouth. Then I swallow it.

It hits me like a cannonball. I feel stronger every time I swallow. I want more and more. I can't fit the head of his dick in my mouth, but I lick the slit where the sperm shoots out. I stroke his insanely big dick with both my hands. That gets it to shoot big jets of cum. My throat fills with that incredible stuff. I can't get enough!

My body feels like it's on fire. Every muscle in my body hurts. Burns. I keep gulping down the muscle guy's sperm. I drink and drink, and my belly never feels full.

Finally, he turns my chin up and looks in my eyes. "Look at your arms." I look. They're huge. The biceps are like a watermelon. They're shredded and covered with veins. "Flex them." I do, and gasp in wonder at the mountain that bulges up when I tense my bicep. "Want to get bigger?"

I nod. "Yes..."

"If I make you bigger, you have to do what I tell you. OK?"

"Anything you say."

"You will address me as SIR, meat!"

"Yes, sir!"

"I own your ass. You're mine, meat. You do not question me in any way."

I feel myself blush and grow harder. "Yes, sir."

"Peel down those pants if you want to keep 'em."

I love my leather pants, so I unbuckle my belt and let them drop to my knees. I'm not wearing any undies, so my hard dick stands up, ready, pulsing and red.

"Take off your boots. Get those fucking pants off your body."

I do as told. I fold up my leather pants and stash them under an awning. Then I pull my boots back on.

He unbuckles one of the belts around his waist and hands it to me. "Use it. Be strong. But be mine."

I take it in my hands. The leather is hot and sweaty. It feels and smells so incredibly good. The buckle sparks and little bolts of lightning shoot off its surface. "It's got plenty of power. It will make you just like me. Are you ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Strap it on."

I put the belt around my waist. The leather is warm and smooth and tight. I look down at the buckle. It throbs. I push the strap underneath the buckle. The belt tightens without me touching it.

"OK, repeat after me..." He reaches for the strap of his magic belt. I grasp my strap. My heart thunders in my chest. "Magic belt, this is Sinbad, your master..."

"M-magic belt, this is Sinbad, your master..."

"Give me the strength I deserve!"

"Give me the strength I deserve!"

"Now pull it tight!"

I tug on the leather and thunder shoots all around me. The buckle blasts out wild streams of power and it floods into me. I look down and see my thigh muscles blossom with size and definition. My dick gets thicker, longer and harder before my eyes. It hurts, but the pain is also beautiful.

"Shalah karali utum!" As he shouts those words, I feel instantly stronger. "Say it over and over, meat!"

"Shalah karali utum! Shalah karali utum! Shalah karali utum!" I tug harder and harder at the belt. I have more strength to pull it even tighter. As I pull, my leather jacket rips to pieces and falls off my frame. "Shalah karali utum! Shalah karali utum! Shalah karali utum!"

"Buckle it, meat!"

I do as told. I am immediately aware of how big and strong I am. I catch my reflection in a mirror-like metal plate nearby. I look exactly like him now. My face has changed. I'm... I'm beautiful. I can't believe a human being could be this handsome. I raise up one of my arms and flex the biceps. The belt buckle crackles and a spark shoots to the bicep peak. It grows right before my eyes. This is me.

I am enormously hard now. My dick is huge. It's so hard it hurts. It turns me on just to look at my reflection.

"OK, meat. Look at this." I see my master's mighty arms in all their vein-clustered, rippling glory. He makes the 'most muscular' pose and holds it. His biceps become shredded with rippling muscle fiber. His veins bulge and throb. "Shit, I feel so strong! You're like me, now. Show me how strong you are, meat."

I feel super strong. To prove it, I leap down to a parking lot. I kind of float down. It's a weird sensation. In the lot is parked a big old semi truck. I get my hands underneath the chassis and lift it up so fast it flies in the air. It's like when you think a glass has some liquid in it, and then it doesn't. The truck zooms up into the sky. Gravity takes over, and it falls down towards me. My reflexes are out of whack, so the truck just smashes down on me. I don't feel a thing, except for the air currents and a numb sense of impact. I'm not even scratched.

I pick up what's left of the truck and crush it, with my mighty arms, into a ball--about the size of a wheelbarrow. I lift that with one hand, and try to balance it on my index finger. "That strong, sir," I finally say.

"Not bad, meat. You've got promise. We've got some really heavy lifting to do. You see that thing?" My master thrusts a veiny, muscled arm towards a gigantic power transformer. It must weigh ten tons. "You and I are going to pull it up, by its roots and take it up in the sky. Then we're gonna throw it as hard as we can."

"Yes, sir." I look at the transformer. "But if we pull this out, won't it shut off all the power in the city?"

"Meat, you do as told. And, yes, it will shut off all the power in the city." His voice takes on that mocking tone again.

"I'm not sure I..." Suddenly, a chopping, pulsing sound fills the air. Bullets whiz past us, and bounce off my chest and his.

"Get the hell out! Hide!" My master flies off towards a helicopter. There are three coming towards us. He plows into one and smashes it into shrapnel with his fists. The copter plummets towards the ground and explodes. This is freaking me out.

I raise my arms over my head and I feel myself levitate. I concentrate and I streak up into the rainy night sky. All I'm wearing are my boots--and the belt. I no longer feel the rain. I sense its presence, but it doesn't feel wet or cold.

The chopping sound gets louder. I turn to see another helicopter. A face leans out the window...

"Dad!" I say out loud. What if he recognizes me? I can't let him see me like this. I soar up as high as I can--too fast for them to pursue me.

What if Dad had been in that other copter? He'd be dead. And that big brutal monster, the one who says he's my master, would have killed him. I feel angry. I don't like him now.

So I am who my dad has been after. Not me, exactly, but my master. He seems kind of crazy, that other muscle man. He gave me this incredible power. I won't use it to hurt anyone. Well, let him try and take it back from me.

I soar up high over the city and look down on the copter. If he comes near it, I'll give him a fight. Even if he kills me. He can't hurt my dad.

He sees the copter, and is pelted with machine gun fire. He circles the copter, but the bullets find him. They just bounce off his chest and dick, but they keep him at a distance. I've got to save my dad. I reach for the strap of my magic belt...

Then someone grabs my arms and pins them behind me. I can't move them. I hear a deep voice: "Gotcha, mutherfucker!" His voice has a thick Southern accent. I try to turn to see him. He looks exactly like me--except he has piercings and tattoos.

"I--I'm not him. Honest, I'm not."

He turns me around, roughly, to face him. He's as big as me, and he has a magic belt tight around his waist. He's dressed in leather, like me. Like I was, anyway. I forgot that I'm buck naked. I can't feel the cold or wet at all. All I can feel is my big, thick, throbbing dick. How horny I feel; how heavy and full my balls are. And the sight of this man makes me even harder. My dick slaps his chest.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"My name's Travis. I just got this belt. From the other guy."

He grabs me again. "Where is he? What's he doing?"

"He wants to knock out all the power in the city. He gave me this belt and told me I had to do his orders. Now he's fighting with the cops. He--"

"Fu-uck that shit." He laughs. "That fucker's crazy as hell. He's bad news. You hear me?"

"Y-yes sir."

He laughs again. "Knock off that 'sir' shit 'round me, dude. My name's Sinbad."

"OK... S-sinbad."

"If you gotta follow orders, dude, follow mine." He fingers my hard dick. "You're horny as hell, aren't ya, Travis? You look mighty hot with them big muscles an' that magic belt. An' that big ole throbbin cock... yer makin' me hard just lookin' at ya." He rubs a growing bulge in his tight, rain-shiny leather pants. "I'm a total horndog all the fucken time. Wearin that belt makes you that way."

"Fuck, yeah, it does!" I never swear. The word surprises me when it comes out of my mouth.

Sinbad smirks and flexes his triceps. "You are so hot! Yer totally bonin me! See?" He rubs his straining crotch. His dick pulses hard beneath the tight shiny black leather. "I can't fight when I wanna fuck. Let's do us a quick circle jerk. Then we'll kick that sumbitch's sorry ass. OK?"

My heart pounds. "Sure."

"You do me, an I'll do you. Together. 'Zat OK?"

"Yeah, sure."

Sinbad smiles. "Always feels better that way."

Sinbad unbuttons his pants enough to free his dick. It's so long and thick and veiny. He takes my hands and places them on the shaft of his dick. Then he leans in to kiss me. His kiss is so amazing. I feel hard waves of power go between us.

His hands grab my dick and begin to pump it. I stroke his massive pulsing dick. We touch tongues as our kiss grows in passion. I open my eyes, and his clear, intense blue eyes gaze right into mine. He begins to moan. I feel the rush building up steam in my balls.

Then he whispers "Tighten yer belt, stud..." He drops one arm and I feel him reach for his leather strap. I do the same with my belt.

He shoots first, and as his warm, sweet sperm fires from his mighty dick, bolts of power light up the night sky. I pull my belt two notches tighter as I shoot my load. He catches every drop in his mouth. I lap up his sperm. It's got such a kick to it. Makes me feel even stronger and sexier...

He flexes his biceps and grins. "Damn, I feel hella good! How 'bout you, Travis?"

I flex, too. My arms are bigger than ever. "Pretty damn good, Sinbad!"

"Ready to go kick some ass?"

"Fuck, yeah. But what do we do?"

He thinks for a moment. "We need us a plan. We got to take away his belt. First thing."

"We need to get him away from that helicopter."

"OK. If he sees me, he'll go for me. So back me up, a'ight? One of us gotta grab his arms so he can't pull. Then the other's gotta unbuckle the belt. I reckon I'm stronger than you, so I'll grab him. OK?"

I nod yes.

"You go for his belt. The minute you get that sucker off his gut, you strap it around mine an' tighten it. I can handle the extra power. Don't hesitate, or it'll go right back to him."

"And then..."

"An' then, I got me a score to settle with that fucker. If he's still alive when I'm finished, the fucken cops can have his ass."

"Sinbad, there's something I've got to tell you about..."

I don't get to finish my sentence. Sinbad soars down to the scene at the helicopter. I follow him. This flying thing is amazing. It's like having a dream while you're awake.

The crazy guy still circles the helicopter. The copter has some big net spread out. The air is filled with some kind of gas--tear gas, I guess. The crazy guy coughs from the gas. Sinbad tightens his belt, flexes his biceps and plows into him. He batters the other guy with his fists. The other guy recoils.

Then the copter pelts Sinbad with rapid-fire bullets. They bounce off his body and fly back to the copter. A couple of them ricochet off my chest. Weird. I don't even feel them. I watch them bounce off my skin and disappear in the night sky.

The crazy guy recovers, and tightens his belt. Then he commences to beat the crap out of Sinbad. I fly in closer to see if I can help. "Stupid redneck pigfucker," he says, with a punch for each word. "I thought I'd taken care of you."

Sinbad kicks him in the nuts, and then in the face. The crazy guy grimaces and covers his crotch. "Gotcha, shit-for-brains!" Sinbad says, laughing. He pounds the crazy guy hard, over and over, in his face. When he reaches up to fend off the blows, Sinbad puts his boots into his crotch, over and over.

Sinbad is about to finish him off. Then the big net on top of the copter falls on him. It coils around him tight. He can't move. He starts to fall towards earth.

I have to do something. All I can think of it to hit the crazy guy. I've never fought anyone before, and it shows. My lame blows, despite the strength I feel, don't faze him. "You're on his side now?" he says, mockingly. "Fucking turncoat!" Then he knocks me in the gut. He's stronger than Sinbad, and it shows. I don't feel any pain, but the impact sends me flying through space. He follows me, and grabs me by my neck. "You dumb piece of meat. Why didn't you kill him?"

"I don't kill anyone. I never even saw him before." I see Sinbad's belt firing up below. The bolts of wild power light up the sky.

"You don't question me, meat!" Then he smacks me through a wall. I make a hole in the bricks and cement. I don't really feel it. A big pile of masonry covers me. I shrug my shoulders and flex my arms and I'm free. But now I feel pissed.

"I'm not your meat, fucker!" Sinbad's belt still fires out bolts. That net must be strong.

The crazy guy grabs for my belt. "Give it back, you stupid shit, so I can kill you!"

"Fuck off!" I smack the him hard on the chin. It catches him a little off-guard.

"That belt ain't yours, dumfuck. You stole it from me, 'member?"

Then we both turn to see Sinbad. He's monstrous. His body is all muscle--big, throbbing, vein-clustered rippling bulges of strength. He has little bits of sticky netting all over his body.

"You want trouble? Shalah karali utum!" The crazy guy pulls his belt tighter.

"Right back atcha, dumfuck!" Sinbad's buckle shoots off bolts of raw, squealing power. Some of them go straight into my belt. I immediately feel stronger--and angrier.

I'm inspired to tighten my belt some more. "Shalah karali utum!" I shout. Those words have an incredible effect on the belt.

Sinbad and I face each other. Our belts trade power. I buckle up, and so does he. We face the bad guy with our biceps flexed high, and fury in our handsome faces. I'm at my next to last notch. He's gone all the way with his belt. I've never seen so much raw, pure muscle in my life.

Sinbad plows into the bad guy. "Fucken thief!" He smashes him into the building I hit.

Sinbad grabs his head and beats it, over and over, with his clenched fist.

"Thought you could just help yourself to my magic belt? Wrong move, shit-fer-brains!" Sinbad knees the crazy guy's crotch, hard, several times. This makes him double over and gasp with pain. Before he can recover, Sinbad has his arms pinned. The bad guy struggles. He's still mighty strong. "The belt!" Sinbad cries.

I reach for the buckle. It takes all my strength to unhook it. The buckle throbs and sparks. I pry it out of the notch hole. Then I grab the leather and take it off his waist. The leather clings like the strongest magnet in the world. He cries out as the leather peels off his own skin. "No! Piece of shit! Don't take my fucking belt!"

I get the belt completely off his waist. It suddenly seems to weigh ten tons. It has this super magnetic pull towards him. It wants to go back onto his waist. I struggle with all my might to get it away from him. It starts to snake around his gut again.

"Don't let the buckle touch the leather!" I move it an inch or two, and just barely keep the strap from going under the sparking, throbbing magic buckle. I'm exhausted from the effort.

"Use your belt, stud!" Sinbad cries. "You need another notch!"

I hold onto the bad guy's belt with all my strength and reach for my own strap. "Magic belt, this is Sinbad, your master. Give me the strength I deserve!" I pull hard and my belt tightens. "Shalah karali utum!" I feel immediate strength and continue to pull my belt tighter. As I pull, I repeat the magic word. The words add more notches to my belt. It buckles itself.

I grimace, and, with every fiber of strength in me, I slowly, slowly, pull the bad guy's belt off his waist.

It suddenly slams me in the chest. It's out of his influence.

"Strap it on me!" Sinbad cries. "Pull it tight, stud!"

I put the bad guy's belt around Sinbad's waist...and then the chopping sound sneaks up behind me. I just get the belt around his waist. I grab the strap of Sinbad's belt and mine, and pull it with all my might. I shout the magic words over and over.

Two magic belts now adorn Sinbad's tiny waist. He flexes his muscles for the helicopter. Then he puts both hands around his waist, and touches fingertips. He looks right into my dad's eyes. "We've caught your bad guy," he says. The deep booming quality of his voice arouses me.

The helicopter drops another one of those big, sticky-looking net over us. I can't move. Neither can Sinbad. We struggle, and our combined manpower rips a big enough hole in the net for us to get to our belts. We pull and pull, and the magic bolts dissolve the sticky mess from around us. Sinbad and I stand free and clear. All that's left is a smelly, smoking chemical ruin. I hear my dad's voice. He uses very bad language.

"What else ya got?" Sinbad stands with his hands on his hips.

"Yeah!" I shout out. I'm looking right at Dad. He can't recognize me.

"Here's the shit-for-brains yer looking for." Sinbad holds up the now-shivering guy. "You want him?" He's still big and muscular, but he's no longer like we are. I look at him, and he seems to be in shock. His crotch is all bruised. He's got two black eyes and bruises all over his body. Tears roll down his face. He moans and vomits all over himself.

"Can we trust you?" My dad's voice booms out from a loudspeaker.

"You got no other choice, dude." Sinbad points to the top level of a nearby parking garage. "Meet us over there. An no more o that fucken sticky shit."

Sinbad gestures to me and we fly, with our captive, up to the wide, empty open-air lot. He lands gracefully. My butt kisses the asphalt, but I'm not hurt. "Stupid fuck," Sinbad says to the belt-less boy. "You coulda had it made. I guess that ole drunk dude was right. These belts do work the best for good."

The helicopter circles to make a landing. Sinbad looks at me. "Dude, they'll bust you for bein naked in public..." He looks over our captor. "There's some pants down there. Grab 'em."

I find the other guy's leathers. To my surprise, they're dry and warm. They fit me like a glove. "Thanks, Sinbad." It feels better to have some clothes on.

The copter lands, awkwardly, and narrowly misses an SUV. Its car alarm goes off, breeping and chirping in the night air.

"You saved the city, Sinbad." I gesture to the weeping bad guy. "He--"

"He was gunna fuck this place up bad. Wasn't you?" He shakes the other guy hard. He doesn't respond. "I ain't no do-gooder, but I don't wanna fuck the world up more than it already is."

"That makes you a do-gooder, then." I smile at Sinbad. He's so handsome, and when he smiles back I pop an instant boner. The leather in my pants stretches like a second skin with my erection.

We stand, mighty and proud, as the police--including my dad--cautiously approach us. They've got their guns out. They're trembling. I want to tell Dad he has nothing to fear. But I don't think he could handle knowing that I'm this big, powerful muscle guy. That's got to stay my secret, no matter what else happens.

One of the younger cops loses his cool and fires all his rounds at me. The bullets just bounce off my chest. I flex my biceps and smile at Dad and try to look like a total bad-ass. Which I am. •

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