The Trainer 4
by AKA
“I am disappointed,” Jove said to me, and my heart fell. “You did not show your dominance.”
“Look, if you could’ve seen what he….”
“That does not matter,” he told me. “He does not matter. Only you,” he said, and he jabbed my pec with his meaty finger for emphasis, “matter. Only this,” he added, cupping my swelling chest, and perhaps playing his thumb across my sensitive nipple, “and this,” as his other hand grabbed my constant hard-on and squeezed painfully. “Do you understand?”
“I understand,” I said.
“Do you understand?” He squeezed harder, forcing me to my toes.
“I understand,” I echoed. I was going to protest to this huge man that he didn’t understand. Had he ever had his own fantasy lover appear in the flesh in his bedroom? Had he ever been faced with the most beautiful, most perfect, most...everything dude and then had that dude seduce him and do literally anything and everything he wanted to do? Fulfill every desire? Realize every wish? Satisfy every hunger?
Jove looked sternly at me, as a father might to his son, disappointed in his school athletics. He sent me onto the field thinking that I was quarterback, but I came back having had the opposing team fuck my ass three ways to sunset.
And I had loved every second of it.
He released my cock and hung his head. I felt shamed to be standing before him for the first time. Then he raised his majestic face and his eyes focused on mine. “To grow, you must be the master, yes?”
“Yes,” I say.
“We will work harder,” he said. “You will work harder.”
“Yes, sir.”
After that second week, with Jove driving me beyond what I thought my limits had been, my muscle gains were off the chart. When I looked into the mirror on a daily basis, I seemed to be growing larger just standing there. When I stroked my cock, it was bigger and longer in my hard grip. My chest was deepening, my arms were swollen with hard balls of brawn, my legs were turning into tree trunks, my ass was a round, full, meaty set of muscular globes.
He doubled my intake of nectar, as well. I gulped it down greedily, as if my body needed it. I felt its warm power leaching into my muscles, and they swelled in response.
I was nearly constantly hard, as well. My cock, when it wasn’t erect, was on its way there. I felt like I was back in high school again, with a prick that couldn’t be tamed, swelling with ever-present conspicuousness at my groin, pushing against the crotch of whatever pants I could still fit my thick thighs into. It tingled and throbbed and wanted attention constantly. Even after stroking off and releasing a copious flood of cream in fat jets that splattered everywhere, it only wanted more.
My work days were...becoming a distraction. The tightness of my clothes were a constant reminder of my growth and power. My nipples rubbed against the material of my shirt. My cock, seemingly insatiable, pulsed and throbbed, feeling as though the god damned thing weighed twenty pounds. Tremors of tingling orgasmic surges kept erupting along it meat, reminding me both of its length and girth. I felt hot and, at one point, the upper right sleeve of my shirt split as my biceps swelled because I was looking at my forearm, and all the beautiful veins feeding my muscles' size and strength.
All I wanted was to be back at Atlas. I wanted to be pushing iron. I wanted to be naked, glorious, perfect. I wanted to display myself and my body and my cock.
The days crawled by.
I came a heavy load in the men’s room at noon, pulling out my massive shank of sex and slowly stroking myself to a blinding orgasmic explosion, feeling even as I came that I could come again and again.
I exited the restroom, still zipping myself tightly inside my pants, trying to squeeze the majestic size of my hungry cock into its cage, as another man was entering. I looked at him and something passed between us. He seemed to physically shrink before me. He opened his mouth to speak and then stopped, locking his eyes to mine.
“What are you looking at?” I asked, a bit too harshly. My voice held a note of command that had never been there, and its register was growing deep and strong.
“Excuse me,” he replied meekly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean….”
I smiled, opening the door for him. The masculine musk of my heavy load hung in the air. “You want in?” I asked.
He paused, frozen in place like some small animal before a predator. “Yes,” he answered.
“Good,” I said.
In minutes I was feeding him my cock in the toilet stall, grasping his head in my paws and shoving myself down his throat as he swallowed my second load with evident hunger.
I do not know his name. His name doesn’t matter. What matters is that I realize, for the first time, what Jove means by his instructions.
Something in me grows suddenly strong. Not my muscles, which will grow because I punish them daily, and not my strength, which excels the growth of my muscles, but something else. Something deeper.
I look down at this man. He is handsome, I think. His lips are wrapped around my hard cock and tears are in his eyes as he attempts to swallow all that I am. I gag him with my size. I pump gallons of cream down his throat which he swallows eagerly. I put my hand behind his neck, gently, and urge him on.
He wants this. He wants me.
I raise my arm and bend it, sending my biceps into spasms of growth. The muscle bunches into a solid ball and pushes upwards, stretching the cloth of my sleeve until the fabric stretches to its breaking point. I smile and split the cotton fabric with the size and power of my arm, forcing my biceps through the material like paper. He moans in ecstasy as I display my dominance.
That night I slept deeply, and dreamed.
I am naked, but not ashamed. I am exposed, but not vulnerable. I am beautiful, and powerful, and strong.
A desert. A barren land. Stark, white, unyielding. Mountains, then, pushing up as if forced by some unseen and all-powerful hand. The movement of earth. The low rumble, the boom of rock against rock.
I am moving, now. Toward the new range of peaks. The air is warm, scented with power. Some spice. Or animal. Something carnal and raw and bestial. It warms me, enters my skin, pushed itself inside, becoming part of me.
Now my cock. I feel it. A heaviness. A rapturous burden. My cock is the center of all things. My cock is hot and hard and thick. My cock pulses with a heavy current of masculine sexuality. My cock arches its neck upwards and grows longer, harder, thicker. My cock rises like the sun, hot and majestic and powerful.
A throne, there among the mountains. A man, seated upon it. I move towards him, floating or flying, effortless and with providence. This is destiny. This is fate. Nothing can stop this.
His body is naked, like mine. His body is powerful, like mine. He is perfect.
Like me.
I wake up.
The seventh day is mine. “Display your dominance.” Have I not done so at the office? There are men there, now, who will never want to be with another, neither man nor woman - or, doing so, will always compare them to me and weep that I am not there, feeding the thick inches of my cock into their mouths and asses.
My cock stands before me, throbbing with hot need.
I visit the page belonging to Mr. Perfect. I wish to test my resolve, and my dominance over him. I am now even larger than him. I could easily dominate, just with my strength and my size, and make him do whatever I wish. Doing nothing but existing - being within the same room as him, and showing him all that I am, and all the power and strength I now possess, would surely command his submission.
I stare at the image of his face. And I - and my cock - remember.
I look into those eyes, and know that if I see him again - I will be his. I cannot deny him. As much as I want to be with him again, to relive that day of ultimate bliss, I hear Jove’s words in my head and feel his disappointment in me.
I look at John’s picture again. I open the gallery and click the upper left image, inflating the thumbnail of his masculine perfection on my screen until it fills every inch, gazing on his cock and balls and aching to taste him again.
And my phone rings.
I recognize the number, and pause before answering. After doing so, I hear his voice immediately, and before I can say anything in greeting, he asks, “Are you looking at me?”
“Yes.”
“I have a surprise for you.” His voice licks my libido. My prick pulses in response, like Pavlov’s dog, drooling at the sound.
“Do you?”
“You’re not scared, are you?” The question shocks me, because I feel something like fear inside. Before I can deny it, John says, “There’s nothing to be scared of. It’s a gift. Just for you.”
“What is it?”
“I need your email address. I want to send you something.”
“What is it?” I repeat.
“That would ruin the surprise.”
I give him my address. My heart is beating hard. My body is hot, as if he is already here, and we are together, and his tongue is lapping at my butthole. I watch the icon for my mail app, waiting in anticipation of it hopping up and down with excitement. “Do you have it, yet?”
“Not yet,” I report.
“It’s big,” he says.
“I know,” I respond, having seen - and felt - it.
He chuckles. “Should be coming any time, now.”
The icon starts to hop. His message in my inbox, a little paper clip showing an attachment. “This isn’t going to hurt my computer, is it?”
“It may burn your eyes from their sockets, but your computer will be fine.” I swallow into a suddenly dry throat. “Open it, Thomas.”
I double click the message. No text, just the attachment. An image, naturally. I click on it, to open it, and suddenly my screen is overwhelmed with it.
It is us. He and I. In my bedroom. “When did you…?”
“I like to record my conquests,” he says. “I think it’s a good angle, don’t you?”
He is holding the camera - his phone - in one hand, held up behind him. It offers a view of his perfect ass, the high arching mounds of it are clenched and muscular. Because he is shoving his massive meat inside me. I am stretched out before him, on my back, one leg pressed against him, my foot above his shoulder, and the other sprawled across the bed. There is a look of evident ecstasy on my face, though my eyes are pinched shut as if I am in pain, because he has captured the moment when he came into me, and I exploded all over myself.
I can see my hard cock, red and shiny, spitting a fat rope of cream nearly to my face. A lacquer of cum shines on my egg carton belly and the squared globes of my chest, pearlescent white puddles against the sheen of sweat that coats my skin. My hands grip the sheets in fists, sending the muscles of my arms into thick spasms of flexed power. He is smiling into the camera, capturing the exact moment of my willing and eager subjugation. At that moment, he is shoving a thick load of his warm cream up the several thick inches of his prick. His massive cock, monumental and magnificent, is buried inside me, and its mouth is blasting a fat fountain of cum.
I am insanely turned on by this image, even given the fact that during the height of my own surrender he had the presence of mind to take it. Knowing that I was so lost that I never noticed what he was doing. And marveling that he had managed, almost as if by magic, to capture it with such artistry and perfection.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes,” I answer, because I do. I relive that moment over and over, and ache for its return.
“I’m glad,” he says.
“Come over,” I tell him.
“Are you sure?” he asks. The possibility that he won?t makes me want him even more.
“Now,” I say.
The line goes dead.
I greet him naked, as Jove greets me each morning. I open the door and I am already hard as stone. His hands grab my body and he pulls me to him and kisses me soundly. Then his grip finds my cock and he wraps it in his fingers and he smiles against my lips.
“Bigger,” he states.
“Yes,” I answer
“Good.”
I watch him undress again as I lie on my own bed. I have not washed the sheets and I can still smell him on them, and my own sweat. I am surrounded by the scent of men fucking. He pulls off his pants and his prick is arching upwards, pulsing quite strongly as blood pumps into it. He stands there, at the foot of my bed, and I watch him growing harder and bigger and thicker as he looks down at me. “Did you enjoy my gift?”
“Yes,” I state.
He smiles. “I’m glad.” He looks bigger to me, too, but only down there. I can almost feel him inside me already. He crawls onto my bed, and on top of me. I can feel the hard heat of his mammoth cock pressing against my skin. He kisses my mouth. He rubs against me. I hardly feel the weight of him on my powerful frame.
He runs his hands over my body, feeling the hard mounds of brawn. I am hard everywhere, but especially my cock. “How do you keep growing?”
“I’m not done yet,” I tell him.
He moans. “How big?”
I flex my muscles to bulging glory. He can feel every inch of my body swell beneath him as my brawn grows firm. He literally raises off of me, pushed upwards by the size and strength of every muscle on my body. “Bigger than anyone.”
He grabs my cock, throbbing between us. “This, too?”
I kiss his mouth. “Yes.”
“Stronger?”
“Stronger than anyone.” It is not a boast. It is a promise.
He sits up, straddling my body, looking down at the mountain ranges that rise everywhere on my growing body. He moves his hands across my belly, and the rippling bulges of muscle pressing against my skin. I feel his touch intently, understanding the reverence of it. He is worshiping me, with his hands and eyes. My cock throbs and a thick gob of warm honey swells at the tip. He grabs me and wipes the pre onto his thumb and sucks me off his thick digit, his cheeks sinking into the shallows of his face. His eyes are on mine as his face lowers and takes me into his mouth, licking and sucking and slicking up my fat prick with his talented tongue.
My eyes roll into my head. I am grasping the sheets with my balled-up fists. My ass clenches tight enough to crush a stone between my cheeks.
He is very, very good.
He looks up towards me, pulling his lips off my cock and he says, “You’re going to fuck me.” He strokes me in his spit-clicked grip. I feel it intently, down to my toes.
“Yes,” I agree. Growling the word.
“Hard.”
“Yes.” I whisper it.
“And then…” He moves his mouth onto my rod. I hear his hungry slurping and feel his mouth everywhere, like magic. “I’m going to fuck you even harder.”
I smile. “Yes.”