The Goth Valley
We trekked up the steep mountain path, the four of us. Braga carried the 450lb musclehead Gainus slung across his back, while Horst and I followed them toward their Goth village. The farther up we went, the steeper the climb got, and Braga's huge legs were pumping up like tractor tires, thick and tight, veins pumping into them like hoses.
We reached a spot that looked like a dead end to me. A mountain spanned out across the trail. Braga dumped Gainus down to the ground, jarring him awake.
"Get up and make yourself useful," he said to Gainus, who rubbed his eyes for a second, but quickly got his bearings, and waddled over to the mountain. He leaned up against it and spread out his massive arms. His fingers disappeared into ridges in the rock. The thick muscle on his back began to roll and heavy, as he pulled and leaned back, loosening a huge boulder from the mountain side. He twisted it to the side, like a giant bank vault door, exposing a passageway into the mountain. Icy cold air flowed from it, cooling us after the long hike. Braga motioned us into the pathway, and after we got in, Gainus grabbed hold of the giant rock and pulled it back into place.
"Keeps away the outsiders," Braga said to us. The passageway led deep into the mountain, but we could always see the light from the other end. It came out onto a flat outcropping high above a valley surrounded by snowcapped mountains. The valley was heavily forested and the air was clean and smelled of pine trees. We walked down a pathway, a much easier hike than the one coming up. It zigzagged thru the forest and sloped gently down into the valley. We walked for several miles, when the pathway suddenly opened up onto a village.
"Welcome to our homeland," said Braga.
The village streets were filled with gorilla-sized muscleheads. They lumbered in and out of wooden structures that looked like they'd been hand built out of full-sized tree trunks. In fact, one guy was walking down the street with a huge tree trunk slung over his shoulder. He pressed it overhead for reps before resting it back across his shoulders. The dude was shirtless, as were nearly all the men, and had the biggest delts and traps I'd ever seen. They rippled with his slightest movements, and had practically busted thru the skin as he pressed the tree trunk. Now, his traps were mounding up so high, they looked like flexed 24" biceps on each side of his neck, supporting the tree trunk like it was a javelin pole. Suddenly, his arms tensed up as they looped over the tree. Veins stood out on his forehead and his face reddened. Then the two foot tree trunk snapped like a toothpick, the sound echoing thru the valley. I guess that explained the size of the guy's neck. It looked as thick as the tree trunk, and harder. He dropped the broken halves onto a pile of already busted up trees, and looked down at them with satisfaction. And a raging hardon..
A woman came out of one of the wooden huts. She was shorter than Deltus, but completely jacked up with muscle. She looked like Lee Priest with long blond hair. He grabbed her and lifted her into him, wrapping his huge arms around her, and she wrapped her big legs around his midriff, locking her ankles behind him. The two of them groped each others muscular bodies with wild abandon. Deltus carried her back into the hut, both of them grunting and grinding.
"Is that his wife?" I asked.
"Oh no. We are so horny all the time. We copulate with each other freely, whenever the need hits, which can be many times a day. Although we still arrange some matings for breeding purposes."
"Mein Gott," muttered Horst. Although I could see he was sporting a hardon himself.
"Now we get down to business," said Braga, and as we passed by a big hairy ape of a man, he tapped him on the shoulder and grunted out something to him. He came with us to what looked like the town center, an open area surrounded by huts of various sizes. "This is Tractus," Braga said, "We use him to plow our fields" Tractus looked at me disdainfully. It was hard to tell how solid his muscle was thru his thick pelt of chest, back, arm and leg hair.
"Tractus is to be mated with one of our prime females," Braga explained. "That is, if he can beat you in wrestling. If you beat him, you will mate with her. If he beats you, he with mate with you, then her." Tractus smirked, and flexed out his ape arms, which rose up like a set of hairy soccer balls. He was huge. He was a good six inches taller than me, and, I hate to admit it, looked 50lbs heavier. Maybe 75. Thru his thick chest hair, his nipples stuck out big as spark plugs. They seemed to be poking out even farther, in anticipation of battle. I flexed back at him with my lat spread. I felt my thick wings flaring out wider and wider. I loved the feeling of my big back swelling and hardening. It made my cock do the same thing.
Braga barked out something to Tractus, who obediently stripped out of his lederhosen and stood facing me, naked. His huge log swung between his quads, and he had half a hardon just like I did. Braga told me that their wrestling matches were always done naked. I figured I didn't have much choice, and what the hell. I stripped off my shorts.
It was amazing how freeing it was to be naked. I felt like a beast, raw and raging, ready to mix it up with the freak in front of me. By now a crowd had gathered around the town square, a crowd of big, wide, muscular Goths, leaving enough room for us to wrestle, but surrounding us like a wall of muscle. My adrenaline was pumping so hard, that I barely noticed the crowd. My focus was entirely on Tractus, who stared at me with a combination of a snarl and a smirk. We circled each other slowly, but only for a moment. I decided to make the first move, and went at him full force, slamming my shoulder into his lower torso. Tractus didn't even take a step backward. Didn't even budge. Instead, he raised his arm and smashed his massive forearm across my back. The force of it knocked the wind out of me and buckled my knees. Tractus leaned over and picked me up, throwing me behind his head and onto his big shoulders. Then he tossed me into the air. The crowd moved just enough to let me fly by them, and crash into the side of one of their timber buildings. I slid down with a hard thump. Dazed, I looked up, as Tractus lumbered toward me, clenching his fists so hard that his huge hairy knuckles cracked so loudly, it sounded like chopsticks being snapped. He picked up speed as he came at me, raising his arm as he did, and swung down at my face with his massive fist. I lurched out of the way just in time. His fist sank into the wall of the building. The wall that was made of tree trunks. His fist smashed into the wood like a battering ram, sinking his arm in up to his elbow. I used the time it was taking him to pull his arm out to get to my feet.
"I thought we were wrestling, asshole," I said to him, as I brought my knee up into his midsection. It was a good shot, I felt my thick leg make solid connection. His feet lifted slightly off the ground, and I heard him give a deep grunt. His arm was half-way out of the wall, so I shoved him perpendicular to the building, thinking this would wrench his wrist enough to make his right arm useless. I was wrong. Tractus just wrenched his arm thru the wood, blasting about a 2 foot section of tree trunk out of its way as it came free. He shook out his arm briefly, then turned back to me. I jabbed his thick 8pak with a series of lefts and rights, pummeling into his ape gut. He looked down at me, put his hands on his sides, and smirked as I tried to bust down the thick muscle fiber. As hard as I hit him, he soaked it in with no visible effect, except that he was getting a hardon. My arms were pumping up like balloons, I was working them so hard. He finally tired of my efforts, and grabbed my wrist, wrenching my arm up into the air. Then, with his other hand, he began to beat into my ribcage. It was like being hit by a sledgehammer with egg-sized knuckles. Big hairy knuckles, backed up by a 32" biceps. He switched arms and worked my other size, each punch harder and harder. I mustered up enough momentum to swing back at him. Although I was aiming for his head, I hit the side of his column-like neck, hard enough that he staggered. It must have hurt him, because he dropped my arm and rubbed his neck. Then he crouched over and crunched his arms into a most muscular-type flex, smirking again. Apparently the pain had not lasted long. Meanwhile, my ribs were throbbing. Still, I crouched and began to circle my huge opponent.
We locked up and began pushing on each other. Soon, he was pushing me backwards across the square. I pushed back hard, and dug my feet in, but they just dug deep furrows into the ground as he shoved me. He was picking up velocity, pushing into me like a bull, aiming right for the building on the opposite side of the square. Suddenly, I dropped down, and pulled him up and over me, sending him flying this time. The men on this side of the crowd did not have time to move out of the way, and Tractus landed into them hard, sending three of them falling backwards as he landed on top of them. The rest of the crowd roared with laughter. Tractus stumbled his way up and off of the three Goths, kicking at them as he did. There was no more smirk on his face, only rage. Huge veins stood out on both sides of his 28" neck. His face was a deep scary red. His eyeballs bulged. He came at me, snorting, and in such a rage that I was able to sidestep him, and swing behind him. I jumped onto his massive ape back, and got an arm around his bull neck. I grabbed my wrist with my other hand and pulled it tightly into a choke hold. Tractus raged to get at me, but his huge arms and delts were too thick with muscle to reach around that far. I pulled harder. He grabbed onto my forearm, but couldn't get a real good grip, my choke hold was so tight. He dug in with his superstrong fingers, and the pain shot thru me like lightening, but I held on, and even tightened the hold more. I could hear him wheezing for air. He twisted back and forth, trying to whip me off his back, but to no avail. I'd never felt so powerful, and my arms crushed into his insanely thick neck. Finally, he started to run backwards, aiming for a building behind me. I knew a hit was coming and braced myself. I heard Goths scrambling out of the way, as Tractus slammed us into a wall of tree trunks. We hit the building so hard that the entire structure collapsed. We ended up on top of a pile of busted up lumber. I was pretty sure I had busted a couple of ribs, but I still had him in my choke, and was able to leverage myself up on a tree trunk to get a better angle. Now I had a sleeper hold on him, and I could feel the fight draining out of him like a sieve. His arms flailed, but weaker and weaker each time. He tried to grab at busted lumber, but I jerked him away from it each time. His body began to slump. This actually made it harder to keep the hold, his weight was so intensely dense. But I tightened it even more. Braga finally called a halt to the fight, declaring me the winner. The crowd didn't miss a beat. They came at me and lifted me over their heads, carrying me thru the square. It didn't matter that I was an outsider. I had won. Now I was one of them, or at least their equal. They paraded me around the village a few times, and finally set me down in front of Braga and Tractus, who had quickly recovered, and his rage seem to have faded. In fact, he grabbed me in a hug, and was patting my back, welcoming me. His pats were just about to turn into groping, when Braga broke us apart. Tractus eyed me up and down like a good meal, and I couldn't help but feel a tug in my loins for the big apeman. We were both getting hard. Horst handed me my shorts, and I slipped into them fast to reign in my swelling appendage. Tractus grabbed a handful of the front of my shorts and began kneading with his big hairy hand, and I almost popped right then. Braga laughed and told Tractus to go clean up.
"Maybe later you and Tractus can play," Braga said, "but now you must save that for Andula."
Andula, it turned out, would be my prize for winning the wrestling match. She would be the first of several that had been selected to receive a 'donation' from the outside gene pool. She lived in another village, and on the way, Braga would show me why it was so important for them to get a new batch of genetic material. As it was, I was so horny, I could have fucked my cousin Horst right there in the square, so I told Braga I was ready to go. He laughed again, this time at my eagerness, and said, "First we eat. A banquet has been prepared to nourish you for your duties....come with me, boys. Then we will set out thru our valley."
To be continued