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|I had fantasized all my life that something like this would happen to me, and now it had! But it was far better than I had imagined it could be. Not only was I a world famous super-hero imbued with incredible strength, speed, and agility, I was also gifted with unbelievable sexual prowess and hot, sex-crazed side kick who was madly in love with me.
The only problem was the code of honor us heroes lived by. It bound my sidekick to find the mind of the man who owned the body I was in, even though the real AlphaMale was apparently a heterosexual stick- in-the-mud whose only thought was saving the world from the catastrophe du jour. Stewart (Beta Boy) had devoted his every free moment to finding the mind of his true teammate ever since my revelation.
Now he had taken us to S.P.E.A.R. HQ, deep beneath the earth to enlist the aid of its Chief Officer, Pierce Armstrong. On the way to see him, dozens of operatives, most of which I recognized, greeted us. Stewart and I had worked with and for S.P.E.A.R. our entire careers. Stewart owed his superhuman abilities to an experiment contrived by S.P.E.A.R. scientists a decade ago that attempted to mimic the one that gave me my own super powers.
As usual, Pierce was in the war room, neck deep into intercepting some espionage plot, when Stewart and I arrived. I could tell he thought it was odd that Stewart was the one to approach him first, shake his hand and initiate the conversation instead of me. My relationship with him was much older. For a few months we had fought in the same Green Beret unit in 'Nam in the early sixties, and we had worked together sporadically ever since.
Before Stewart finished explaining the situation, two strong hands grabbed my arms and drew them behind my back. Two S.P.E.A.R. agents were restraining me. I twisted my shoulders to pull free, but they tightened their grip. I felt certain I could have effortlessly tossed them into each other, but before I did, Stewart protested.
"What's going on?!"
"You said he wasn't Gordon. He has no business here. This facility is so top secret, even the President doesn't know it exists."
"You don't understand!" Stewart said. "Even if he weren't trustworthy, it's too late. He already knows everything Gordon knew! He's in Gordon's body! He has Gordon's brain!"
"Okay, Andy, when did I first meet Gordon?" Pierce asked me.
"Around 1962. We were both in the Green Berets. We were training South Vietnamese soldiers."
"Ah, that's no good. Both of us have said that much in interviews! What was the first thing I said to you?"
"The very first thing?" I asked.
"We were both standing at the latrine taking a piss. You looked down at my dick and said something like, 'Man, they sure must grow 'em big back where you come from.' "
"Why, I oughta..."
Pierce had his fist drawn, but Stewart grabbed it. Apparently there were men in Gordon's life other than Stewart who had crushes on him. Pierce's arousal was evident, even now. And who could blame him. This body I now possessed was the most magnificent male specimen to ever walk the planet. It was more muscular than any body builder ever dreamed of being, yet so graceful and balanced in its proportions that it didn't look the least bit excessive. I was Man as God had intended him to look, as though the rest of mankind had only been a 1st draft. If Man had been created in God's image, AlphaMale had been created out of God's fantasies!
Back in 'Nam, Gordon had been completely caught off guard by Pierce's comment at the latrine, but he hadn't said much about it, because Pierce was a superior officer. And Gordon couldn't fault Pierce for noticing how big his dick was. It was enormous. He had become AlphaMale only a month before that and he was still getting used to the size of it himself.
He had only been in the service three months. In boot camp, his sergeant had volunteered him for a top- secret experiment to create the first super soldier. The plans were to create a whole army of them to use in the small-scale, anti-Communist wars America had become involved in since the end of World War II. Gordon was the first human the serum had been tried on. The experiment was wildly successful, but the formula and its inventors were destroyed in a bomb explosion during Gordon's transformation. Gordon escaped harm since he was invulnerable by the time the bomb exploded.
Gordon had been tops in his boot camp class. In fact, the sergeant who nominated him for the experiment said he had been the most naturally talented raw recruit he had seen in twenty years. Gordon had always been athletic. He had been a track and field star in high school. He was muscular without being particularly well developed.
The army had taken him to the veteran's hospital drugged and blindfolded. They escorted him into a hospital room in the subbasement before they took the blindfold off. He was stripped naked, dressed in a hospital wrap and put into bed. For a week they ran tests on him. Finally the doctors approved his condition. Three uniformed soldiers escorted him, like he was under arrest, into a weight room. He was stripped naked again and stood in front of a phalanx of doctors in white coats, regular army, and a few generals and government officials. One of the doctors gave him a thick, sweet tasting fluid in a paper cup and told him to drink it. He did.
In a few seconds his muscles became engorged with blood, like from an incredible pump. Then they began to swell. A few of the men in the audience gasped. One of the doctors told him to pick up a pair of dumbbells. He chose a pair of sixty pounders. The doctor told him to curl them.
At first it was an effort. He thought he might have to choose a lighter pair. Then the weight became quite manageable, then light as a feather. He put them down and picked up two hundred-pound dumbbells. They began to seem light as well. When he put them down, he noticed himself in the gym mirrors. He looked like a muscle man, one of those guys you'd see occasionally in movies that he used to think looked so grotesquely bloated. But he thought the muscles looked good on himself. He felt strong, capable.
The doctor directed him to the squat rack. Two of the soldiers loaded it up with ten 45-pound plates on each side. He positioned himself under the bar and lifted it with such ease that the bar almost flew off his shoulders. As the soldiers added ten more plates to each side, he saw himself in the mirror again. He was even bigger, much larger than any man he had ever seen. His skin looked thin and tight too. He could see the muscles under it so well that he looked like one of those drawings in the encyclopedia that showed all the human muscles, only his were much, much larger. He positioned himself under the bar again. He did the math in his head. He was about to lift 1800 pounds. It must be some kind of a world record. He lifted the bar off the hook, positioned his feet and slowly descended. On the way back up, he strained just a bit. He lowered it again. This time it was as though he had no weight on his shoulders at all. He grinned to himself. He felt incredible.
The doctor took him over to machine version of a squat rack. Only there weren't any weights visible. He positioned himself under a bar, the doctor threw a switch and the bar started bearing down on him. He began to squat. It felt heavy, but not particularly unmanageable. He told the doctor. The doctor smiled. The weight got heavier. He strained a bit, but moved through the exercise smoothly. The doctor told him to continue. He completed ten reps, then twenty. The doctor was watching a dial on the side of the machine. His eyes widened. The machine began to smoke.
Then something broke and the bar was light as a feather again. A soldier sprayed a fire extinguisher at the smoke. No one seemed too concerned that he had broken it.
"Gentlemen," the doctor addressed the audience, "Our super soldier, here, has just maxed out our squat machine at ten tons."
This time Gordon felt like gasping, but he just grinned. The mirror showed he was bigger still.
"Private, extend your hand for me," the doctor ordered.
He did. The doctor dragged a small scalpel along his arm. Gordon figured he must not have been pushing on his skin, because it felt like a fingernail and it didn't even leave a scratch. Then he stabbed at his thick forearm. The scalpel broke! He nodded at a soldier. The soldier drew his gun and fired at Gordon's chest! He barely felt a tap when the bullet ricocheted.
"Not withstanding the need to perform further, more scientific tests on the subject to verify these results, I would say the experiment was a success, gentlemen!" the doctor told the audience. Several people clapped. Then Gordon was blinded by bright light, pelted by shrapnel, and deafened by an explosion. The roof and half the building above them all collapsed. Everyone in the room was buried under debris. When things stopped falling, Gordon pushed my way out. He dug in the debris for hours for survivors, but everyone else was crushed.
The secret of the serum was lost in the explosion. Although bits and pieces of the lead doctor's research were stored in other facilities. There wasn't enough of it to recreate the experiment. The doctor and all his colleagues were dead.
The military put Gordon to work fighting communists. At first Gordon wore ordinary clothes, but the type of physical work he did destroyed so many uniforms that the military developed something more durable. Somebody in the uniform department had a sense of humor and developed an almost indestructible custom made of brightly colored, skintight material. Gordon wore it once in public, it became a hit with everyone. Then it became his official uniform.
In 1967 Gordon completed his service. The army tried desperately to convince him to reenlist, but the anti-war movement had fostered enough doubt in his head about the 'military industrial complex', of which he was a creation, that he left. He dropped out for a while. I lived in the Haight Ashbury during the summer of love. He did a little acid, grew his hair long, and enjoyed the sex, drugs and rock-n-roll. Mostly the sex. The government kept him under strict surveillance, which was pretty easy considering how much he stuck out, even in civilian clothes. Gordon was surprised they didn't arrest him for all the illegal drug use, but they must have figured it would be a bigger embarrassment to them than to him if it became public. Not that he gave up the hero-bit; he still helped out, but he was more of a free agent. Most of the beneficiaries of his goodwill were little people trampled by big business or the system.
In 1971 an old villain of his reemerged: OmegaMan. OmegaMan was the product of a similar experiment run by the Soviets, who managed to steal enough of the intelligence from the AlphaMale project. Something went seriously wrong in the experiment, however. OmegaMan was so mentally warped by the serum that he killed everyone involved in it. Then he set out to kill the only man who was his equal - AlphaMale. Time after time they tousled. Each time OmegaMan was defeated, but he managed to escape. This time he almost succeeded. He stranded AlphaMale at the sight of a nuclear test. When the bomb exploded AlphaMale was badly injured. He went into a deep coma.
Twenty years later the US government pieced enough of the super soldier serum together themselves to try another experiment. It was a whole new world in 1991. Communism was defeated, but the threat of terrorism was on the rise. They needed someone who could get into tight places quickly and take out the key men. They chose another raw recruit, a lad just seventeen. But this time things didn't quite work for them this time. Although Stewart's physical transformation was just as impressive, his strength was only half what Gordon's had been. Still, the army was all set to proceed with the transformation of more men when a damning side effect was found. The new serum had made Stewart as queer as a three dollar bill! Many people thought this was acceptable, but top brass was so homophobic that they scrapped the whole project.
Stewart was assigned to S.P.E.A.R. He fulfilled most of his promise as an international espionage agent, but eventually they found another side effect. The serum had made Stewart stop aging! He was permanently stuck at age 17!
Of course Gordon only knew this stuff about Stewart because two years ago he came out of his coma and went back into active duty himself.
Recounting more of this story convinced Pierce that Gordon was Gordon in body at least. He had the guards release their hold on me and sent them away. He was still uneasy about trusting me until he saw Stewart put his arm on my shoulder and watched my prodigious dick swell inside my tight pants. When I put my arm around Stewart's waist and kissed him lightly on the lips, Pierce's own meat started to stiffen.
"Andrew," Stewart explained to Pierce, whose jaw had dropped, "is gay."
"I see," Pierce said. His eyes dilated and his hand absent-mindedly rubbed the bulge in his pants. "Andrew, no disrespect for Stewart - I can see you're very fond of him - no disrespect, but could you come stand here."
I stood inches from Pierce's craggy masculine face. Although the serum hadn't stopped the aging process in Gordon's body it had kept it looking very young, enough that Gordon could easily pass for thirty. Pierce took good care of himself, but he was almost sixty. His face was taunt, but deeply creviced. His physique would put most amateur heavyweights to shame, but it was beginning to get a little soft. However, one part of it was very hard at the moment.
Pierce cupped his hand under one of my huge, horse flank pecs and felt how steel hard it was, even relaxed. Then he grabbed me by the back of the neck and pulled me into a deep, forceful open-mouthed, face-sucking kiss. Of course he couldn't have budged my head an inch if I hadn't wanted to cooperate. The old man had turned me on the instant I walked in the room. Something about the way he carried himself, or the thatch of gray hair that burst out over the top of his shirt sent me. I took control of the kiss. I drove my tongue deep into Pierce's mouth. Pierce went weak in the knees. I tore his shirt open and forced him back on the war room table. His chest hair was as thick the hair on his head and covered his pecs and stomach like a carpet. He was breathing very heavy. His abs rippled and flexed with each deep breath.
I took my fingers, fingers that could slice through steel like putty, and dug into the cloth of his pants. The material tore open in a loud rip. His extra stiff dick wiggled free and pointed to the ceiling. More importantly, his ass was naked to the wind. It quivered and spasmed invitingly. I shoved my skintight pants down to free my fire place poker and slid it slowly inside his guts. With a dick that was literally as hard as steel, I knew I had to be careful at first, or I could tear him apart inside. Inch by inch I slid inside. The tension of this first long, slow fuck made sweat break out on both our brows. At he deepest point of it Pierce tensed, and sighed in relief.
"Aw, God! Gordon, I've been waiting thirty-seven years for that moment! If I could live the rest of my life with your dick up my ass like this!"
"Really," I said with a devilish grin. I was pleased to make the old man so happy. He was finally getting what he'd wanted after lusting so long for his stud buddy. I was thrilled to be the instrument of his pleasure. "I've always thought taking it out and putting it back in was what make it so much fun."
As I spoke I spread my hands on his broad, hard, hairy pecs and did just that. His mouth went slack, his eyes widened, and his dick ballooned from the stimulation.
"And don't think I didn't notice you just called me Gordon for the first time."
Pierce was completely unable to do anything but shout obscenities as I began to fuck him a little faster. Over my shoulder I heard fabric tearing. The scene got Stewart so hot his cock had torn free. I felt it brush against my ass cheeks, felt Stewart's heat at my back, then his dick in the entrance to my ass. His laid his hand on my shoulder to steady both of us and pumped his hips forward and the head of his dick past my sphincter. My next backstroke buried his dick completely in my ass. My downstroke sucked my ass along its entire length. The stone hard feel of it got me so hot that it became difficult to maintain my control as I fucked Pierce. My frantic fucking pushed Pierce over the edge. His abdominals tensed beneath his hair and his ten- inch cock spurted great gobs of thick, milky cum on his stomach fur.
If Stewart hadn't been fucking me, I might have pulled out and gave Pierce a rest, but I was so into the fuck that I kept on fucking Pierce and before long he was cumming again. Then again. Then again. As his ass muscles clenched around my horse dick the fourth time, my dick convulsed and fired inside of him. What of AlphaMale's girl friend? Will Beta Boy and S.P.E.A.R. find what happened to the real Gordon? Still much more to come...
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