By VladBath

Scott frowned for a moment, considering the predicament. Then, a wonderful smile came to his face and he drew himself tall, with his hands on his waist.

"You're thinking about this all wrong, doc," Scott said, smiling from ear to ear. "I'm a god. I'm the most powerful being on the planet. I can have whatever I want. And what I want is to be worshipped. Let them ask questions. Let them get concerned. There's nothing they can do about it.

They'll kneal before me just like Paul has done. With my power, even straight guys will get queer for my body. And let them. I won't disappoint them."

With that, Scott strode toward the back of the warehouse, toward the cargo doors. Paul and I followed. With a gentle tug, Scott rolled up one of the doors, hopped down (with a noticable shudder to the building) and began making his way across the deserted parking lot. Scott's strides were better half again as long as mine so we had to jog beside to keep up. Paul seemed mesmorized by Scott. I didn't blame him. Scott's freakishly huge, muscular frame, naked and bronzed in the bright sunlight was awe-inspiring.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"To introduce the world to their new god." Scott said, a self-confident smile on his lips.

We left the parking lot and turned onto one of the streets which fed into Lakeside Blvd. A couple of street punks spotted Scott and stopped dead in their tracks. Scott smiled as he approached and all they could do was look at the magnificant physique as it flexed and rippled, looming larger as the distance shortened. As he stood before them Scott asked, "You like what you see?" Scott brought his arms up into a double biceps pose, looked arrogantly at each boulderous muscle and then directly at the street boys.

In a voice which was so powerful, so authouratative, yet so seductive he said, "Worship me. You know that's what you want. Go ahead. Touch me."

The boys, zombie-like, moved toward Scott's superhuman body and began rubbing their bodies against his legs and lower torso. Paul also joined in the action, wrapping his hands around Scott's partially erect cock and rubbing it with all his strength. The boys seemed in absolute lust for Scott's muscles, squeezing, licking and caressing them with the ferver of pure sexual ecstacy. Scott was enjoying himself too, slowly rubbing his hands across his massive chest and arms, flexing and squeezing, entreating all of us to a splendid display of male erotica.

Then, slowly, Scott began to move toward the boulevard, all of us trying to touch his massive legs as they flexed with each step. At the intersection, a considerable number of pedestrians caught sight of Scott's tall, impossibly powerful physique, noted all of us obviously enjoying ourselves and came over to join us. Men and women of every description flocked across the street and toward Scott, pressing against each other, trying to get close enough to touch his herculean body.

In the street itself, a driver of an automobile, obviously distracted by Scott's presence, had rear-ended a parked car, causing considerable damage.

Scott, caring individual that he was, waded through his sea of admirers to aid the distressed motorist. He gently pulled off the collapsed door and ushered the driver out. As it turned out, it was Jim from the gym. Scott, concerned, asked, "You okay Jim?"

Quivvering, Jim said, "I'm fine. What happened to you? You''re gorgeous!"

Scott smiled and pulsed his pecs for Jim. "Thanks, " Scott said, "Go ahead. Worship me. I know you want to. It's alright. Everyone wants to."

Scott knelt down and flexed his huge biceps right under Jim's face. Jim, his eyes huge, timidly reached out and touched the huge mountain of muscle, then, began caressing it. Then, with his other hand and finally his face and chest rubbing against it with trance-like pleasure. More and more people closed in around Scott's knealing body, pressing themselves close to him. Scott began a series of slow, hard poses which allowed his audience to gasp in amazement and offered new muscles to touch and worship. More and more people joined the crowd, all wanting despirately to touch Scott, to be near him.

After half an hour or so, the crowd had grown to thousands and all traffic had come to a stand still. A police riot team drove up in a SWAT van and disembarked in full protective gear, broke their way through the crowd and made their way toward Scott, ordering on-lookers away. Scott, noticing their approach, rose to his full height and stared directly at them. The point man for the squad stopped cold about 50 feet away and gulped nervously. The other members of the team paused a moment and then took up positions flanking the officer in front, raising their rifles and taking aim at Scott. Paul was on one side of Scott and I on the other. Scott reached down with his massive hand and patted me on the back. Under his breath he whispered, "Don't worry. Watch this." He then turned to Paul and whispered something I couldn't quite make out.

Scott smiled agreeably and slowly took a step forward. The point officer raised his bull horn and said "Stay where you are," his voice noticably unsure, "We have orders to arrest you for inciting a riot. We don't want to hurt you but if you resist, we will use force."

"I understand, officer, " Scott said in a powerful tone which was just as loud as the bullhorn, "There wasn't a riot, per se. Just a lot of people interested in what I have to offer." Scott raised his right arm, flexed the biceps and shrugged. Several of the policemen in the line were rubbing their crotches. Even the point officer appeared aroused, his jaw dropping at the sight of Scott's megabody. "Why don't you join in? There's plenty of me for everyone, " Scott said in his most seductive tone.

It was obvious the point officer was torn between what he wanted to do--what he AND his men wanted to do--and their duty. Slowly, he brought up the bullhorn and said "I'm sorry. We'll have to take you in." He motioned to four of his more muscular men who came forth with thick chains and approached Scott. As they drew nearer, Paul suddenly stepped between the officers and Scott, opened his arms wide and began flexing his muscles.

When the officers were within a couple of feet of Paul, blue arcs of power cascaded from the officers into Paul's body and Paul began to grow. The officers, weakened, dropped their chains and tried to pull away, but Paul was too powerful. He flexed harder and drained more and more of their strength. Their uniforms becoming noticably loose as Paul's physique grew with the power of an additional four men. Finally, the arcs ceased and the officers were on their knees, thin and exhausted while Paul basked in the power of his newly-acquired muscles, flexing wildly.

The other officers in the line were noticably taken back but aroused at the same time. In his most accomodating voice, Scott said, "You see officer, you have nothing to fear if you join us, but if you oppose us, well,"

glancing down to the drained officers, "You might find yourself a little weak in the knees." With that, Scott flexed an incredible most-muscular pose and suddenly, arcs of energy lept forth from the bodies of the entire police line and into Scott's muscles. Scott relaxed and the arcs disappeared. His gargantuan chest heaved for a moment and he said, "That felt good. But I won't do it again unless I have to."

Recollecting himself, the point officer turned to his officers and shouted "Open fire!" The police line re-aimed their rifles and began shooting at Scott. Scott just smiled as the bullets bounced harmlessly off his incredible muscles. He motioned to Paul who advanced on the line of officers, grabbed one of their rifles and bent it double. Then, with a ferocity of a starving man, laid his hands on the officer's shoulders and drained him until he weighed no more than 100 lbs. Paul proceeded down the line, draining one officer after another, growing bigger and stronger with each one... •

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