Shane and his Muscle-Belt

The Muscle Belt


By Jason Jarman

Shane loved the attention of his classmates, but he didn't particularly enjoy school. Every so often, when the sun was shining and the air was warm and dry, he would skip school, knowing that Jack Kendall, or one of the other boys who really admired him, would write him a fake excuse. His mother and father were both at work, so they didn't know about it. He didn't abuse this scheme.

On this particular morning, Shane woke up with a throbbing hard-on. His cock was deep red, and felt so hard it almost hurt. He tried jacking off, but he couldn't cum. Instead, his cock seemed to get bigger and harder. It got so hard and big Shane thought it might burst!

While he lay in bed, stroking his pounding cock, he had a vision. This vision showed a dusty, forgotten storefront, somewhere downtown. He could almost tell where it was. The windows were papered over on the inside. Dusty, grimy garbage gathered in the doorway of the place. There was something inside that deserted building. Something that would change his life.

"Dude," he said to himself, "I got to find that place. I just gotta." He rose from bed. His hard-on calmed down some, but didn't go entirely limp. He pulled on a form-fitting blue tank top and his best pair of black leather jeans. He had to force his cock down the left pants leg. It was too big to comfortably fit in the crotch area.

Pulling on a pair of mirrored Oakley Blades, Shane left the house and piled into his black Camaro. He headed towards downtown. He drove through the center of the city, but none of the streets looked right. Shane tried to recall the vision of the building. It looked so run-down. It wouldn't be anywhere near the gleaming skyscrapers of the business district. It felt more like the industrial part of town, where there were rows of abandoned buildings.

It took nearly an hour of confused driving before Shane felt his cock get hard and huge again. He turned down one shabby street and his cock strained so hard against the leather he thought the seams would burst. And there it was... the building from his vision!

Shane's heart pounded. The front was exactly as he saw it in his head. But there was no way to get inside from the front. There was an alley behind the block of buildings. None of them seemed to be occupied. Shane drove his Camaro into the alley. He knew which building was the right one.

It was hard for Shane to walk with his throbbing cock fully erect. He unzipped his leather jeans to give it some breathing room. His deep red cock stood fifteen inches high. Spurts of watery pre-cum oozed from its pulsing head. Shane stroked his mighty cock. No one else was in the alley. This time, he was able to jack off. Relief rushed through his body as he orgasmed. Thick spurts of satiny cum shot from his cock and spattered against the wall of the building.

"This is it," Shane said. "This is the place." The door was locked, but it had a large window. Shane kicked in the door’s glass window. The glass shattered with a resounding crash, and the fragments flew all around him. No alarm sounded. He picked out a few strands of glass from the doorframe and reached inside to unlock the door.

It creaked open. The inside smelled of dust and mildew. "Anyone here?" Shane said. But he knew there wouldn't be a soul in this old place. He prowled around the rooms of the storefront. There was nothing there, except for old, faded newspapers, beer cans, and a large, stained mattress. In the main room of the place stood a large, dusty mirror.

"What the fuck'm I doin here, dude?" Shane said to himself. He was about to give up and leave when he noticed one room he hadn't checked. It was a storage closet, dusty and dank-smelling, its shelves crowded with ancient debris. It was just big enough for a small person to move around in comfortably. Shane’s wide shoulders scraped against the junk that lined the shelves.

Shane almost walked out of the closet, annoyed, when he spotted it. It was the only thing in the closet that wasn’t a million years old. Sitting on one of the lower shelves to Shane’s left was a glistening black leather gym bag. Embossed on the side of the leather was a large anchor, swathed with rope and crossed with a bolt of lightning.

Shane picked up the bag. It was very heavy. He almost couldn’t lift it. He strained his muscles pulling the bag off the shelf. He took it into the next room, and set it down in front of the mirror. He unzipped the bag, and reached inside. He pulled out a black velvet pouch. It was what made the bag so heavy. Embossed in gold thread was the same symbol: an anchor crossed with lightning. This pouch smelled of fragrant leather.

Shane reached in the velvet pouch and felt a shock. It went through his body, from head to toe. "Dude!" Shane said. The jolt felt good. He removed from the pouch a beautiful black leather belt. It was buckled tight around a thick polished piece of metal. The leather was smooth and supple. The belt was four inches wide, four feet long, and an eighth of an inch thick. The surface was as polished as a mirror.

Shane unbuckled the belt and held it in his hands. He set the heavy piece of metal on the ground. An envelope was attached to the metal, beneath the belt. Shane held the belt up and sniffed it. The leather smelled wonderful. He completely uncoiled the belt and looked it over. The rows of notches started a foot into the leather strap. They were close together at first, and further apart afterwards. The last notch, which had anchors engraved around the leather, was almost at the end of the belt, by the buckle.

The buckle itself was unlike any he'd ever seen before. It was a thick, heavy golden square. The edges were engraved with a pattern of anchors and lightning bolts. On the underside of the belt was Shane's name, artfully engraved into the leather. "What the fuck?" he said to himself.

Shane set the belt down and opened the envelope. Inside was a single sheet of thick embossed paper. It was typewritten, with some mistakes x'ed out. It read:


Thanks to our methods of dream implanting, you have located this very special muscle-belt, Shane Hardin. It is yours because there is no boy on this planet more beautiful than you. You are most deserving of this gift of great power. There is tremendous power in this muscle-belt. As soon as you put it on, you will see for yourself. Whatever you choose to do with this belt is your business.

There are thirteen notches on this belt. You may never live to make the final notch, but you will be satisfied with the results, no matter how far you go. It takes great strength to make this belt work, so do not feel too frustrated if your first few attempts do not surpass the first two notches. You must keep working out, and increase your strength, if you want to make this belt work harder for you. It would not be wise to let the world know that this belt is responsible for your power. Of course, it is up to you. Your usage of this belt will be monitored; if it is apparent you need help with it, we will contact you again.

This muscle-belt works best when contacting your flesh. Your clothes may be destroyed by muscle growth, so take caution. Put this belt around your waist, Shane, pull it tight, and prepare yourself for your new life!

"Damn," Shane said. His heart pounded. He peeled off his leather jeans. Then he drew the muscle-belt around his waist, just above his navel.

The first touch of the buckle to his skin sent a stronger jolt through his body. As before, an afterglow of confidence and energy replaced the jolt. Shane smiled. His cock stood up hard and high. It was at least three inches longer than he’d ever seen it. "Hell, yeh," he said. "This belt is gonna make me hella studly!"

Shane drew the leather through the buckle. His body was again wracked with jerking volleys of power. It was like riding a wild horse! The buckle began to glow. Tiny fingers of lightning shot out from its surface. The fingers grew into thick, booming bolts that fired from the corners of the buckle. A crackling sound filled the room. Every vein on Shane's body stood out. His heart beat so fast he thought it might burst.

Shane tried to tug the leather tight. He wasn’t strong enough to make it move. “Fuck!” He tried again, straining with every ounce of young might in his body. He gritted his teeth and pulled the leather hard and tight through the buckle.

Even with his new strength, it was almost impossible for Shane to tighten the belt. The first notch-hole was still half a foot from the buckle. Shane kept pulling. He yanked with both hands and gritted his teeth. It took so much effort! He felt exhausted. His arms felt so depleted of strength...

Suddenly, the buckle sent up a jagged bolt. It split in two, and each fork shot directly into his biceps. Shane screamed at the intense pain. His bicep muscles suddenly bulged to 40 inches. The skin was red and raw, and the massive shiny peaks were covered with thick blue veins. He flexed one bicep and was stunned by the high mountain of muscle. Fingers of lightning played off the bulge of the flexed bicep. Shane knew he was strong enough now!

He held the muscle, and stared at its bulging, glowing mass as he pulled the muscle-belt tight, tight, tighter. The glow on his bicep grew stronger and brighter. He ratcheted the leather past the first notch, past the second... The waves of power made every muscle in his body explode with size and definition.

Shane got the belt tightened to the third notch and buckled it in. He flexed both his biceps with victory. Every inch of his body glowed with power and masculinity. "Damn, I got to see what I look like now!" He strutted towards the mirror in the other room. His muscles were so large and thick it was hard to walk normally.

Shane stood before the mirror. He couldn't believe what he saw in the reflection. His neck was twice as thick as his head. His shoulders were tanned, glistening mountains. His chest stood high with striated muscle. His nipples were fully erect. His waist was so small and tight it was hardly there. A tape measure lay on the floor by the mirror. Shane picked it up and measured all he could. His biceps had settled down to 28 inches. His neck was 30 inches around. Shane couldn't touch the ends of the six-foot tape around his chest. His waist was now 22 inches. His thighs stretched the tape at 40 inches each. His cock stood hard and high at 19 inches! It measured six inches around at the base, and tapered to its normal width at the head.

Shane looked in the mirror again. He made a double-biceps pose. Something new happened. It was as if someone had given him a tattoo on each of his biceps. The image from the leather bag, of anchors crossed with lightning bolts, covered his bulging guns! On his chest was another tattoo: a diamond around a blue "S". Below the last row of his abs, and right above his crotch, was a small blue lightning bolt. Shane liked the way the tats looked, especially the ones on his biceps.

"Hell, I wanna try this again," he said. He unbuckled the muscle-belt. Once the leather broke contact with his skin, the tattoos faded away. Shane felt his muscles slightly shrink. They stayed within three or four inches of their former peak. Shane felt really strong. He flexed an arm and it rippled with size and power.

Shane strapped on the belt. It felt slightly easier this time. Again, the belt sent a booster shot to his biceps, giving him instant strength. He was able to pull it to the third notch with one hand in two agonizing minutes of hard effort. As he pulled, he imagined himself able to do anything. He had a specific vision of picking up his car and lifting it over his head. The more he focused on that image, the easier it seemed to pull the belt tight.

He discovered that, by holding the leather at the tightest spot he could get to, the buckle sent out extra volleys of power straight into his biceps and his chest. He watched his pecs bulge up past his chin, growing out to unimaginable size for brief moments.

Shane was almost at the fourth notch. He strained and grimaced and finally got the leather just past that notch- hole. The belt buckle supplied him with enough power to finish the notch.

"Damn, dude," Shane said as he again admired his new physique in the mirror. He could tell his muscles were slightly larger and wider than before. His cock was so hard it hurt. He started to masturbate to his own reflection. And why not? There was no one alive anywhere with a bigger, more muscular body than his own.

He fantasized about entering a body-building show; about the envy in the other boys' eyes as he strutted on stage; about the gasps of disbelief as he flexed his muscles under the spotlights; and, best of all, about the other muscle-boys lining up to worship his body after the show. Some of them would be on their knees for the privilege of touching his massive, freakish muscles, or of taking his long, throbbing, cum-spewing cock in their hands... or their mouth...

Shane felt an incredible rush through his body, hard and fast as an express train. Wave after wave of orgasmic madness coursed through his mighty body. His cum smacked the ceiling, knocked over the mirror, and nearly pulled a door off its hinges. The more Shane came, the stronger he felt.

When he was done, he found an old towel and wiped off his cock. He felt like he could instantly get himself hard and full of juice again, but he wanted to test his strength. He concentrated on his cock, and it shrank down to a size he could just squeeze down the leg of his leather jeans. He left his tank top on the floor.

Shane went out into the alley. He slipped his sunglasses on. The alley was deserted. He picked up his Camaro by the rear fender. It took no effort. Whenever the car began to feel heavy, the muscle-belt sent fresh bolts of power to his chest and arms and legs. With both hands, Shane was able to lift the car cleanly over his head, with his arms fully extended. As he held the car, the muscle-belt kept his body filled with power and stamina. "This is awesome, dude!" Shane said. "I can do any fuckin thing I want!" He lifted the car with one hand, and made a bicep muscle with his free arm. In confirmation, the belt buckle shot out a display of lightning flashes. Gone was the old Shane Hardin -- forever! •

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