Brawn (cb musc)

Chapter 1: A Hero is Born

Somewhere in space, a long time ago.

The planet had once been a paradise. It supported life with lush jungles and seas teaming with creatures. That changed when its star became unstable, stripping the planet of its thin gaseous atmosphere. As the star's core got hotter, its envelope expanded toward the planet. Rock and metal melted and fused, bombarded by streams of particles from space. When the star finally exploded, waves of gravity ripped the planet apart, sending metalic rock fragments into deep space.

Most of the fragments drifted aimlesses. Others were destroyed by stars, sucked into black holes or lost. One, however, found its way into our solar system, where it was rocked and buffeted by asteroids and coments, finally to be captured by the gravity of the third planet.

---

Adam sat by his camp fire. The first twenty-nine years of his life hadn't been easy. He had never found his way. He was a below average student in school, and had failed to excel at anything. He didn't go to college, and had drifted through life supporting himself with a myriad of low paying jobs that he had trouble keeping.

He liked the desert. It was quiet and still, mostly, and he felt centered there. Adam's mind could drift and no one would care. No one would bother him. He had his favorite spot where he had camped many times. During the day, he could see the mountains in the distance. It was miles from the road, and no one would disturb him as he stared at stars. Tonight was such a night. Adam had started a small fire and cooked his dog and beans. Now, he lay on the firm ground staring at the stars. He felt at peace.

The roar startled him, and he felt the earth shake as the sky lit up around him. A bomb! No, an earth quake! Dust flew toward Adam and he covered his eyes to protect them. Just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. The only change was the fire about a mile away. Did a plane crash? He ran toward it, whether to help or out of curiousity he would never know.

It took him less than 10 minutes to run the mile. As he got close, he could see the depression in the ground. It glowed an eerie red. The air seemed hot, but now his curiousity had gotten the best of him. Adam peered into the hole and saw the boulder. It was smoking, and smelled of sulfur and ionized metal. He felt dizzy and his chest felt tight. That's all he remembered before he fell into the pit.

Adam's next memories were of burning bright light. It scorched into his hurting head even before he opened his eyes. When he did open them, he saw the blue sky of daytime as the midday sun shown down on him. He moved his arms to feel the ground around him, only to feel ripped cloth. He sat up and saw that the cloth was the remains of his clothing. His pants had split at the legs, and clung tight to his waist. His shirt was destroyed. When he looked down at his body, he didn't recognize it. It wasn't his own.

The legs he saw were thick and powerful. The calves were rounded diamonds, and as he moved his foot, he saw them split into two distinct thick heads. The knees were hidden by mounds of muscle. Thick quads with deep valleys and massive hamstrings. The legs were as thick as a man's waist. The remains of the jeans were now packed tight with this foreign body. The crotch bulged high, and looked as though a pairs socks had been stuffed into it. The fabric tapered over the flesh and fit it like a second skin. The waist of the jeans was now lose, and Adam could see distinct cobblestones down the center of the stomach, and the sides were striated shields of hard muscle. Adam couldn't see the entire stomach as his view was blocked by two hemi-spheres covering the chest. He moved his hand to feel them, and realized that the pecs were so thick to hide the width of his hand beneath them. He touched them, and felt his hand on his chest, tactile confirmation that this muscle-bound body was actually him. He looked to his arm and saw a leg-thick appendage with rippling muscle. His forearms looked like Popeye's and rippled as he flexed his fingers.

Adam stood up. He thought he was taller. "What the fuck?" The voice that asked it was deep and echoed power. "What happened to me?" He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to wake from this dream. It was no dream. He moved his hands over his body, feeling its marble hardness and marvelling in his new strength. As his hands moved over his stomach, it was as if they surfed on waves as his now rock-hard stomach forced his hand up and down over ripped muscle. He moved his hands to his pecs, tracing his nipple that now pointed down. He grabbed his pec and squeezed, feeling the thick, dense muscle. His old body had been soft and weak. He liked this change, whatever caused it.

About 10 yards from where Adam stood, he noticed a golden rock. It was about 6 feet across and generally round in shape. Adam walked toward it, feeling his muscular thighs rub against each other with every step. As he approached, he felt stronger. His legs pushed harder into each other. His chest swelled larger, and his thick arms were pushed farther from his side by his expanding back. He heard his pants rip more, unable to contain his growing mass. Adam stopped. He slowly backed away. His body remained hulkingly large, but he felt weaker. He stopped and approached the boulder. He felt the power return. Adam approached within inchest of the rock. He towered over it.

He bent down and lifted the rock with a single hand. It was like lifting a marshmallow. He tossed it in the air. As if flew high, Adam felt weaker, but as it fell, he felt stronger. He caught it easily. He continued to toss it up and down as a plan formed in his mind.

Adam now realized he had power. This rock was the source, and although it felt light to him, he knew it must weigh tons. Whatever was going on, he wanted to keep it for himself.

He caught himself staring at distant mountains. They seemed to be getting closer, though he wasn't moving. He saw trees and animals as if they were next to him, but they were miles away. He saw the trees that formed the tree line, and then the pebbles of a rock slide along a face of pure granite. Adam snapped out of it, and the mountains appeared in the distance again.

Adam turned toward the road, and concentrated. He saw the cars, then inside them. A woman lighting a cigarette. A man talking on a cell phone. Two small children fighting. He turned again and stared in the general direction of the city. He saw the buildings, then inside. Two people having sex on a water bed. A man drinking coffee. Two people talking.

"... my hard earned money and what do I get from you? Nothing!" "Fuck you dickwad. I do all the work around here and..." He heard the people. Adam pulled back.

"What's happened to me?" he heard himself say aloud. "Fuck. Who cares! This is wild." Adam smiled and turned toward the mountain. He held the rock in his arms and began to run. He pushed with his powerful legs and covered a mile in one step. He pushed harder and saw the ground rush below him. The earth shook as he landed. He forced himself forward as if his powerful legs were moving the entire planet. Anyone looking wouldn't have noticed Adam, he passed by so fast. In less than a second he had scaled high onto the mountain and stood before a sheet of solid granite.

"I could get to like this," he muttered as he put the golden boulder on the ground. "Now, let's see just how strong these are." Adam flexed his bicep and rubbed his hand over it's high peak, testing its hardness. He placed his hand on the mountain and pushed lightly. The granite cracked at his touch. He pulled back, then flicked a finger at it. Rock shot everywhere as a hole 2 feet deep appeared where his finger had touched the mountain. Adam grinned. "This is too easy," he said as he made a fist and punched the mountain.

Adam's fist made contact with millenia-old rock. Minerals that had been created by the power of the planet, forged by volcanic heat and pressed up by the movement of tectonic plates and that had withstood storms, flood and time now faced the muscle of Adam's punch. These eons of natural abuse could not prepare the mountain for the power of Adam's arm. Rock atomized at the touch of Adam's unstoppable fist. Concussive force ripped through the mountain, shattering and pulverizing the mountain. Satellite images recorded a "seismic or volcanic event" on what had been thought to be an geologically inactive area. Rock flew from the mountain, disrupted by Adam's single punch. The muscle-driven kinetic force reverberated in the earth, causing windows to rattle in cities hundreds of miles away. Adam stood at the epicenter of the eruption he had caused, unharmed and relishing the unimaginable power at his command.

When the dust cleared, Adam stared into a newly formed cave that snaked into the mountain. "Not bad for one punch." Adam flexed his bicep, admiring its size. He put his face to it, smelling his skin and kissing the powerful bicep. "Glad I pulled that punch, or I might have taken the whole mountain down!" Adam grinned. "Heh, it's nice but this is way too much power for anyone." He picked up the golden boulder and carried it into his cave.

"It should be safe in here. Don't want anyone to discover it by accident," he said to himself. "And while that was fun, I think the world isn't ready for a man with the power to blow the earth apart with a single punch." Adam held the boulder in his hands. He looked at it, and began to see its structure. He noticed an area where there were microscopic cracks, as if this boulder had been hit and began to shatter. He moved his hands to that section and flexed, twisting the boulder and shattering off a small section. "That ought to be enough." He placed the big section on the ground.

Adam took the smaller rock, noticed where the micro-fissures were, and continued to break off pieces. Using just his powerful grip, he took one of the larger rocks and began forming it. It molded to his power as if it were clay. Adam's bicep flexed, his tricep contracted into a massive horseshoe and his forearms pumped as he turned the godlike power of the rock back into itself, and the rock obeyed. Muscle demanded that rock become sphere, and sphere become sheet. Adam molded each rock shred, transforming mineral into body armor and jewellery. He wrapped a 2 inch wide band around his arm, flexing his massive bicep and bending the metal around it. When it was long enough to wrap around his arm, he rubbed his fingers quickly over the ends, fusing them together. The metal outlined his thick deltoids, horseshoe tris and bulging bis. "That's one," Adam said. He did the same to his other arms, golden armbands outlining powerful biceps. He formed others into a rope necklace that hugged his bull neck.

He made four rings, two and a half inches in diameter. Adam smiled, and thought of how he'd look. He'd seen men dressed in leather -- chaps, harnesses, codpieces. It has always turned him on, but he never thought he looked as good as they did. Adam bounced his pecs. Now he did. "These will make an awesome harness," he said, placing the rings on the ground.

Next, Adam forged a nearly square sheet from the rock. In his mind, he wondered how hard this strange metal was. To his powerful fingers, it was silly putty. With the power of his fingers, the metal conformed to his will and the shape he desired. When he had the sheet, he placed it to his crotch and pressed. The metal bent into a perfect codpiece, shaped to his substantial bulge. He placed the codpiece on the ground.

Next, Adam formed a rock into a thick wire. He pulled and tensed the wire, shaping it and warping it into the outline of Oakley frames. "Now all I need is the lenses," he thought as he put the sunglass frames on his face.

Lastly, Adam formed the remaining stones into a chain. He wrapped the chain around his calf twice, making sure it was long enough. "These will look good on a pair of boots, I think." Satisfied, he picked up his creations. He looked at the massive chunk of rock that remained. He felt a bit of sorrow as he began to walk away.

As he moved, he felt himself getting weaker, though most of his incredible physique remained. He could tell that no longer would a single punch destroy a continent. As he stepped out of the cave, he looked back one last time. A part of him wanted the limitless strength back, but he shook his head. He still had the power of a superman, probably more. He didn't need to be a god -- a super-superman would do.

He looked up. Several hundred feet above the entrance to the cave there were some boulders. He knelt, feeling the power in his legs. In a burst of energy, his legs straightened and his calves snapped his feet, launching him up like a human rocket. In a single leap, Adam jumped to the boulders. He walked over to the biggest. With a flick of his finger, he propelled it forward. Gravity did the rest. Rock and pebble fell to the cave entrance, blocking it from everyone. Well, almost everyone. Adam knew that the strength and power that he retained was more than enough to move the rocks should he need, or want, to move them.

He looked at the formed metal that he held. He needed a leathersmith to craft the garments that would make his new uniform complete. He knew just the man. Adam lept off the mountain and began to run to the City.

 

Chapter 2: Leather

Jim walked down the street. He had just finished working his first job as a personal trainer at Gold's Gym, and now he was on his way to his real job. Jim and his partner were co-owners of Eagle Leather. He appreciated the synergy of both jobs. Jim was six feet three inches, 220 pounds of ripped muscle. His 6% bodyfat meant ever muscle was defined. His 46 inch chest, 18 inch arms, and 26 inch thighs looked larger than their measurements because he was so toned. The leather clothing he made highlighted his masculine physique.

Jim nodded to Ron, the kid who operated the tattoo shop next to his store. Ron was thin and smaller than Jim, and when they talked, Jim could see Ron checking him out. Jim liked that. He was handsome, and he knew it.

Jim put the key in the door, and opened it. Jim felt a gust of wind from the street as he closed the door. He flipped the sign from 'closed' to 'open', and walked into the back room, lifting his black t-shirt over his head as he walked. He looked in the mirror. His pecs were hefty, clearly defined and swooped proudly over his six-packed, 30 inch waist. His traps pressed into his bull neck, and his delts added inches of width to his shoulders. His biceps were thick and full, complementing his massive tris. He knew that his guns stretched the tape beyond 18 inches.

Jim took the half harness that hung next to the mirror. It was one of his creations, and he called it the Buckle D. It had two metal rings, one round, the other D-shaped, on the front that joined to the leather. The leather was studded and one and a half inches wide. Jim put the harness on. The leather fit tight under his pecs, lifting them although their mass hung over part of the leather. He buckeled the harness. He liked the way his hairy defined abs were seperated from his strong pecs by the black leather.

Jim unbuttoned his jeans, taking the opportunity to grope his substantial bulge. Jim was big everywhere. In high school, he was dating one of the cheerleaders. She was the first to stare in awe at his long, thick manhood. After sucking him for ten minutes, she was so turned on she begged him to fuck her. Jim remembers how tight she felt. She was so wet, but she still screamed with pleasure and squirmed in joy as he penetrated her. She had her first orgasm when he was only half way in. It took two or three fuckings before she could take his full length. Her yells of pleasure at his nine thick inches of hard manhood really turned him on.

Jim fucked girls throughout high school, but it never satisfied him. His big dick gave him a reputation as a stud, and he could get any woman he wanted. They all wanted to try that big dick. He began working out, hoping his body would catch up with his dick. It did. He also realized that the guys in the locker room were checking him out.

He still remembers the day in college when he first had sex with a man. Jim remembers it not only because the guy was a total stud, but because it was the first time sex had satisfied him. The sex with women was OK, but he was really just going through the motions -- doing what he was suppose to do. With this guy, he felt something that touched his soul.

Jim was in the gym working his chest. The other man was there. He was hard to miss. He was obviously the biggest and strongest guy in the gym. Between sets, Jim couldn't help but stare as the guy did curls with massive amounts of weight. Jim felt a tingling, jealousy the thought, as he watched monsterous biceps swell and strain, the man's sweat causing his arms to gleen with power. Jim wanted that power. He looked at the weights he was bench pressing, and realized the man was curling more -- his arms stronger than Jim's chest. Jim hit the weights with new determination. Between sets, he stare at the hulk, watching him pump and flex his massive arms. Jim's cock swelled, and he tried to hide his bulge.

After an hour and a half of the best chest workout he'd yet had, Jim hit the shower. The powerful man followed him into the locker room. Jim could smell the powerful man's musky scent. Jim felt so small. He tried to act cool, but his eyes kept wandering to other man. Jim inadvertently let out a gasp when the man removed his sweaty shirt and Jim saw his massive chest and ripped eight-pack. The man looked at him and Jim saw him smirk before he quickly looked away. Jim removed the last of his clothes, hiding his growing erection behind a towel. When he turned, the power lifter was staring at him. Jim hurried to the shower, turned on the water and started to clean himself off.

"Saw you in the gym," said a deep voice behind Jim. "Saw you looking at me." Jim turned, blushing, water spashing off of his body. The man behind him was more muscular than he could imagine, and he was covered in a fine mist from the shower. The man's shoulders were cannonballs, and his arms swollen with muscular power. His chest was large and defined, and his upper body tapered to a thin waist. The man's legs looked as large as Jim's chest. Jim felt his cock jump, and stammered, "Sorry. Just looking for some pointers I guess."

"You like these," said the man, flexing his arms. He turned his head toward the mountain he called a bicep, stuck out his tongue and licked it. He raised his arm higher, putting his nose in his armpit and took a deep breath. "Being a man is fucking awesome." The man turned toward Jim and looked him over. His eyes focused on Jim's growing monster.

Jim tried to turn, to hide his erection. The man grabbed his shoulder, "Don't be shy, boy," he ordered. The man's powerful hand dug into Jim's flesh, hurting him. Jim looked down, and saw the big man was getting hard too. The other man may have been stronger than Jim, but Jim's cock looked at least twice as long and much thicker than his. "You may have a small body, but you do have something nice to look at." The man moved his other hand to Jim's cock and groped him, "and touch." Jim tried to pull away. "What's the matter, boy. I saw you lookin'. I see the look in your eyes. You want this man's muscle. Go ahead. Touch it." The man took his hand off of Jim's cock and flexed his bicep.

Jim looked at it. His mouth felt dry and his heart was racing. Yes, he did want to touch it. Slowly his hand came up. He was shaking. His quiverng hand moved to the man's bicep. It was warm and so hard. Jim squeezed, unable to even dent the steel-hard flesh. "H-h-h-ow b-b-b-ig?" Jim said, his whole body on fire now with a desire he had long denied.

The man grapped Jim's wrist. First, he pushed Jim's hand into his bicep, then pulled it away. "Get out of the shower and come with me. If you're good, I might, MAYBE, let you measure it." The man turned and started to walk back into the locker room. Jim stood totally still, until the man turned. "I SAID COME HERE BOY!" Jim jumped at the intensity of the man's command. "DON'T YOU MAKE ME REPEAT MYSELF!" Jim followed like a puppy dog in obedience school. If he only knew then what he knows now.

The man went to a steam room. Jim knew it was there, but it was always locked. The man reached to the top of the door and grabbed a key. He unlocked the room, turned on a light and signalled Jim to come in. Suspended from the center of the room was a leather device. Jim had never seen a sling before, but he was about to learn all about them.

The man came up behind him. He picked Jim up and cradled him in his arms. Jim moved his hands to his master's chest. His pecs were so big, so hard. His master moved his face to Jim's rock-hard cock. He smelled Jim's fragrance, then licked at the head. He put the Jim down.

"I need to be bathed first." His master extended his right leg and flexed. "Start with this foot."

Jim looked around, searching for a cloth.

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU SLAVE! DON'T MAKE ME REPEAT MYSELF. START LICKING ME CLEAN NOW!"

Jim stared for only a second before he fell to his knees, genuflecting before his god. He extended his tongue and tasted his master's sweat. The salty sweetness of this man was an unexpected aphrodisiac for him. Jim's tongue lapped at his master's hard muscle, working his way over his foot, his diamond calf, his monsterous quads and hamstrings. Then he did the next leg. He heard his master sigh with pleasure, encouraging him. His master began to play with his erect penis, a tribute to Jim's worship. Jim wondered with his master might cum on him. He hoped so.

"That's enough boy," his master said. "That was very good. As a reward, you may worship my muscles while I stroke your dick."

Jim hugged the man's thigh and kissed it, travelling from his knee to right below his nuts, the Jim stood.

"WHAT DO YOU SAY, BOY!"

Jim thought, then said, "Thank you."

"thank you WHAT?!?"

"Thank you, uhm... sir?"

"You may play with my nipples now," said his master as he moved his powerful hand to Jim's balls. He pulled on Jim's egg-sized nuts, squeezing them in his large grip. Jim responded by licking at his master's left nipple, then taking it gently in his mouth and biting. His master laughed. "Ya, that's a good boy," he said.

Jim worshipped his muscle master, caught up in a euphoria that had been unknown to him before. The memory was a blur to Jim now, except for the knowledge that it had been a truth that changed him forever.

Too soon, his master pushed him away. "I'm ready," he said, walking over to the leather straps suspeneded from the ceiling. He placed his hand in one, then bound it with a strap and buckel. He signalled Jim to do the same to his other hand. Next, he raised his leg into a far stirrup, and signalled wordlessly to Jim. Again, Jim restrained his master's powerful body. Finally, his muscle god lifted himself into the air, placing his final leg in the stirrup. Jim buckled him in.

The man flexed. His body tensed, muscles pulsing beneath the skin as he tested his strength against the restraints. Satisfied, he spoke. "You will fuck me now. You will please me and you will make me cum. You will satisfy me and pleasure me. If you fail, you will be punished. If I am happy, I will reward you. I want to be fucked hard, and I want to be fucked rough. Do you understand?"

Jim was scared. This was new to him, yet it wasn't. He had never done anything like this before, yet there was some part of his soul that understood it all. "Yes sir, I understand. My pleasure is unimportant, sir. May I please pleasure only you?"

His master smiled. "Yes. Begin."

The muscle god's glutes were at the perfect height for Jim's erect cock. Jim's python was so hard, it nearly touched his stomach. It's massive head extended inches above his naval. He couldn't remember being this excited. Jim walked to his master. He wanted to penetrate him, but stopped. Instead, he knelt on the ground, his face staring at striated ass muscles.

Jim thrust his face into his master's glutes, forcing his tongue to find the tender spot. He began to lick and thrust, forcing his soft tongue to penetrate and prepare this man. His master, groaned, then thrashed in his restraints. "Fuck ya!" There was a subtle thrill in his powerful voice that excited Jim. Just the memory of it was making Jim hard.

Jim reached for his master's balls. They were so much smaller than his own, yet they still gave his god pleasure. He stroked them lightly, tickling and teasing the muscle man. His god's thrashing accelerated. Jim grabbed the man's nuts and squeezed. His master tensed, his ass bucking into Jim's face. His master moaned approvingly. 'He's ready,' Jim thought.

Jim's hand replaced his tongue as he stood up. He inserted two fingers, spreading his master's hole. He positioned his cock. Its head glistened with his precum. He bumped his long, fat cock against his master's rectum, teasing him with his size.

"Oh ya. So fucking big. Gotta feel it in me." Jim felt the restrained muscle man relax his rectum, willing Jim to enter.

"Yes, sir," said Jim as he put his mushroom-shaped head against his master's hole and pushed. The man's body was so hot, and his hole so tight. Jim became lost in his lust for this man. He heard his master scream in pleasure, Jim's dick stretching the man's hole. He felt his master squeeze, and Jim willed his cock harder, fighting the god's muscle with his steel-hard manhood. Jim pressed in, then pulled back, purposely pushing deeper with each thrust. Inch after inch of his fuckrod penetrated the muscle man. When he was about seven inches deep, his god let out a mighty groan.

"Fuck ya! Harder man. Oh god, that feels so good. Love a big cock." Sweat beaded on his god's body as the man's body flushed with pleasure.

Jim pushed hard, forcing his entire length into his master. The muscle man pulled hard on his restraints, unable to break free. He bucked and twisted, moaning his pleasure and fighting against his desire.

Jim watched his god flex, his muscles bulging. There was a rhythm as both entered the throws of passion. Instinctively, Jim reached for his god's cock. He stroked it, wrapping his thumb and index finger around the shaft, feeling it throb. Jim used two hands on his cock, but his master's seemed so much smaller. It turned Jim on, knowing he was bigger in some way than this muscle god. Jim also knew that his cock was no longer his own. Its purpose was to please his master.

Jim now had his full cock inside the muscle man. He wanted to cum, but held off. His own pleasure was secondary to pleasing the writhing man who was his god. Jim's sense of self died -- he was an unworthy wimp. Muscles and strength defined a man, and his master was all that and more. Only if Jim could hope to get muscle would he be worthy of such pleasure. Until then, Jim had his master.

Jim's mind returned to the present. He flexed his chest, and cupped his big dick. He grinned approvingly.

He remembers his master cumming, shooting his load violently as Jim pushed his massive cock into his muscular butt. When his master had finished, and only after he had finished, Jim pulled out and helped his master down.

Jim kneeled before the big man, his cock hanging long and hard and bouncing on the ground.

"You're still hard?"

"You haven't given me permission to cum, sir."

The big man nodded and smiled. "Is that what you want?"

"No sir."

"No?" His smile faded.

"Sir, may I have permission to worship you more. May I lick the sweat from your body, and taste your essence?"

"Will that make you cum?"

Jim nodded. "I don't think I will be able to help it, sir."

"Then yes."

"Thank you sir. Please, sir, please flex for me."

Jim remembered how hard the man's body was, flexing his body in the mirror to remember how strong and hard his master had been. His master's sweat was salty-sweet, and Jim lost all sense of time. Jim would lick the man's calves, and he would flex them wide. Hard. Strong muscle like Jim had only imagined, yet now, he could experience. When the man shook his relaxed thighs, dense muscle undulated then snapping into ripped steel bands as he flexed for Jim. Jim's cock hurt it was so hard, yet he held back. He wanted to enjoy his master more. The man's cock hung limp, spent from the pounding Jim had just given him. Jim licked his master's balls, feeling their size and weight with his tongue. His master flexed his abs, a beautiful masculine washboard of power. Jim stroked an outline of each muscle with his tongue, licking the sweat and cum from them.

"Master, would you please strike a crab pose for me and crush my face in your massive pecs and rock-hard stomach?"

In a second, Jim's face was engulfed by the man's thick torso. Muscle swelled around him and pressed into him. His face was deformed by huge man-muscle. Jim's cock jumped as his sensors were overwhelmed by his master's power. Jim's eyes were trapped in a cavern created, but his master's backetball-sized pecs. He was overwhelmed by the musky scent of masculinity of his master's sweaty body. He licked, tasting the powerful man. His master's breathing was deep and heavy as he ground his muscles into his slave's wanting body. Jim felt a burst of precum rise in his cock and dribble onto his master's thigh.

"Ya, you liked that boy," said the hulking man as he pulled away. "What about this?" he asked as he flexed his bicep into Jim's face. "21 inches, and growing. Going to make these guns bigger than anyone elses. YOU LIKE THIS BOY?"

Jim throw his face onto the peaked muscle, sucking on it with his mouth and licking at it with his tongue. He moved his face into the man's pick and cleaned it with his tongue. He was like a starving man who had just been given food. The experience of his master's huge arm, his popeye-like forearm and his bicep as large as a baseball was too much. Jim shot his load, a volcano that erupted for seconds. Cum squirted high and hit his master's pecs and clung to his superhuman arm.

This first encounter changed Jim forever. His master was so pleased, he allowed Jim to be his boy for the rest of the year. He taught Jim how to lift, and how to eat. Jim grew. His current 220 pounds of muscle is a direct result of this encounter. His master offered him steroids and growth hormones to grow "his boy". Jim experimented, but decided to stay natural after his first cycle.

After graduation, Jim's master moved away. They kept in touch, and Jim cried several years later when his master died of heart failure. He had bulked up to over 320 pounds of muscle. The death certificate said steroids were a contributing factor. Jim didn't care. He knew his master had been happy. He was big and strong, and that's all that mattered to him.

Jim's erect cock pressed hard in his codpiece, seeking escape. He was a master now, worshipped by men for his muscles. He was handsome and exuded confidence. Still, a part of him longed for a stronger, bigger, more handsome man who would dominate him.

Jim turned, ready to open the store. He was startled to see a man behind him. No, not a man. A hulk. The man was shirtless, with foot-thick pecs and arms bigger than Jim's legs. The man's skimpy shorts looked liked his massive quads had burst out of them. The man was holding pieces of metal. His penetrating eyes were staring at Jim, and Jim felt naked and weak before him. Jim felt a pain in his crotch as his erection tried to rip through the sheath that bound it. Jim tried to talk, to say he hadn't seen the man, but he couldn't form the words.

Finally, the man spoke. "I need you to make something for me."

---

Adam raced through the desert. He stared in the direction of the City, looking for the store. He saw it. Eagle Leather. Adam had only been in the store once, and it took him several months to build up the courage. He had seen the shop owner on the street. He was so handsome, big and strong. Adam was instantly attracted. The man obviously lifted weights, and Adam was never that athletic. When he went into the shop, he tried on a harness. The owner wore one, and his pecs bulged seductively around the leather. On Adam, the leather hung lose on his flat chest. That was before...

In moments, he was nearly to the City when his super-vision found the store. It was closed. A sign said it would open in fifteen minutes. Good. Adam needed the time. He needed money to pay for his new look.

He stopped. Money. Adam had never worried about cash before. He lived simply, but since he was out of work, he was living day-to-day. He looked at his powerful arms. They were strong enough to bring down mountains. A bank would be no problem. He could rip a cash machine from a wall and take the money so fast, no one would even see him. Adam's conscious said, 'no, this was wrong.'

It would be easier if Adam were a criminal, but he wasn't. He knew guys who ripped off grocery stores or stole cars, but that wasn't him. But, maybe, would it be wrong to take their ill-gotten gains? In an instance, Adam was on the move.

Adam trained his super-senses on his target. Bill "The Head" Osborn had been one of his tormentors in high school. The guy was a jock, and got his nickname from dealing drugs. He never left the old neighborhood, though Bill had bulked up. He didn't do the drugs he sold, but used his "business" to fund his own bodybuilding obsession. Bill didn't hide his steroid use. In fact, he flaunted it. He used his massive build to intimidate anyone who might even think about turning him in for selling coke or pot to kids. He traded sex with heroine-addicted women to keep them hooked. Adam had learned to keep his distance, until now. In the blink of an eye, he was in front of The Head's apartment door.

Adam stared at the door, and it became transparent. The Head was lying on a couch, shirtless. His 56 inch chest dwarfed the small cushions, and his ripped abs flexed as he breathed in and out. His cannonball shoulders were in perfect proportion to his massive arms, which looked to be 22 inches unpumped. The guy looked in total competition shape, totally unaware that a man with a superior physique stood less than ten feet away.

Under the couch, Adam saw a shotgun. It was loaded, and ready to go. In the bedroom was a stash of money. In a dresser, he saw drawers filled with drugs.

Adam had been carrying the power metal. He unzipped his pants, and placed the codpiece over his cock. The pants strained to contain the metal. He placed the other metal in his waistband, making certain his powersource wouldn't leave him while he did what he had to do. When all was secure, he stepped to the door.

Adam flicked his index finger at the door, and it burst off its hinges and flew to the other side of the room as if it had been it by a powerful battering ram. The Head started to jump up as Adam walked into the room, twisting his shoulders which were too wide to get through the doorframe. The Head froze as he took in the massive musculature of the intruder. Adam responded by bouncing his watermellon-sized pecs while spreading his wing-like lats. Adam sensed fear, awe and jealousy from the man.

The Head began to reach for his gun. Adam let him. "Who the fuck are you?" said the Head, pulling the gun from below the couch.

"Does it matter?" said Adam casually.

The Head didn't even aim as he pulled the trigger. Adam was so big, how could he miss?

Adam watched it all. It was like slow motion as the trigger moved backward. Adam saw the bullet come toward him as he stepped aside at super-speed. The bullet was so slow, it was no effort at all for him to grab it from the air and hold it in his big, powerful hand.

The Head saw none of this. All he knew was one second the intruder was in front of him, and the next, he was sitting on the couch.

Adam held the bullet in his hand. "Missed."

The Head had no time to react as Adam grabbed the gun. He grinned. Like he had seen Superman do so many times in the comic books, Adam held the gun before The Head and slowly tested it into a pretzel then a knot. It felt as easy as twisting a pipe cleaner. No, easier. He felt the need to make a bad joke, so he said, "Little boys shouldn't play with toys. Someone might get hurt."

The Head started to run. Mistake. Adam's hand snatched him before he could take one step, and pulled him onto the couch.

Adam flexed his mountainous bicep in The Head's face. "See you got some muscle on you. Not as much as I got. This here arm, it could crush you like a nut without even trying. You liked to pick on those weaker than you. I know. Well, now, you are way weaker than me."

Adam paused. He heard The Head's heart pounding in his chest. He sensed confusion from the man. 'Go ahead, try and fight me. I know you want to,' Adam thought.

The Head responded by throwing a punch at Adam. It hit him in his left pec. Adam saw The Head hitting a punching bag, nearly causing it to explode with the force of his punch. Adam knew this was one of the man's memories, but he didn't know how he knew. It didn't matter. Adam hadn't felt the punch as anything more than a fly landing on his chest. On the other hand, he sensed pain from The Head, as if the other man's hand had just hit a brick wall.

"See, wimp! That's real muscle!" said Adam.

"Now, I know you deal drugs. That's wrong. You won't be doing that anymore. In fact, you won't be doing much of anything." Suddenly, in front of the two, all the money and all the drugs appeared. Adam moved so fast, The Head hadn't even known he had gone. "You see, this is my money now. And as for the drugs, I think you ought to take them. All."

Using his powers, Adam liquified the heroine with bursts of heat from his eyes. At superspeed, he filled syringes full of the poison. The Head watched, as syringes appeared before him, the superhuman intruder a blur.

"Don't worry, this won't hurt much." Suddenly, syringes poked into the man's body, finding veins that filled with the poison from the emptying needles.

"How does that feel? Hmmmm...."

The drugs hit The Head like a tidal wave. He felt his heart flutter. Before the drugs could kill him, Adam smiled at him. Adam placed the bullet on his hand, and with his index finger flicked it in Bill Osborn's skull. The drug dealer's head exploded. Before blood could splatter, Adam had collected several thousand dollars and jumped from the window. He now had the money he needed.

Adam looked toward Eagle Leather. He saw the owner walking toward the store. He nodded to someone in a tatoo shop, then opened the store. Before the door closed, Adam sped past him unnoticed. Adam moved to a dark corner and watched as the owner removed his shirt, revealing the ripped muscular chest that Adam longed to touch.

The owner took down some leatherwear, and began to change. Adam stared at him, and the man's thoughts were revealed. His name is Jim. Adam wanted to know all about this man. Adam saw a gym, and knew Jim was a personal trainer on the side. Jim loved muscles. Jim was dominant, but wanted to be dominated. 'How Jim? Why? What made you the man you are?'

Adam saw Jim stare into the mirror. Jim began to remember. Jim's life played out for Adam. Jim's master. Jim's love of muscle. Jim's love of sex. It was like watching a movie that originated in Jim's mind. Adam approached Jim, stood behind him and willed Jim not to notice him. Jim flexed and stroked his big cock as he remembered his master, and Adam watched. Now Adam understood.

As the memory ended, Adam released his hold on Jim. Jim turned, startled to see Adam behind him.

"I need you to make something for me." Adam pulled out the metal rings and codpiece, showing them to Jim. Adam stepped forward, placing his big hand on Jim's strong chest. He felt the harness that supported the leatherman's pec. "Just like this would be mighty fine."

Jim reached up and felt Adam's pec. "Damn."

Adam smiled.

"Think you can do it?"

"Know I can," said Jim. "I'll need to measure you."

Adam nodded.

 

Chapter 3: Thieves

"I need you to make something for me." The words echoed in Jim's head as he worked to contain his arousal. Had the customer seen? Jim's memory had been so vivid, the sudden appearance of this man had shocked him. He regrouped. 'Be cool,' he thought.

"Yes sir. Uhm... Sorry, didn't hear you come in." Jim scanned the man's body, and he flexed his chest and abs instinctively -- a peacock showing his colors against a potential adversary. "Something like this?" He repeated the man's words, trying to regain his composure. "A harness?"

Adam looked over Jim and smiled. "What you got on looks hot." Adam placed the codpiece and metal rings on the counter. "Got these," he said. "Can you turn them into what you're wearing." Adam flexed his right arm, making a massive bicep bulge toward the sky. The metal armstrap stretched with his power. He pointed to the strap, "Already got these, and want something to match."

"Whoa!" Jim's mouth went dry. "Man, uhm, damn."

In Jim's mind, Adam could see him trying to size Adam up. "Ya, nice and big. Strong too. You're not bad yourself. Go ahead, flex for me. What you got, 20 inch guns?" Adam knew the truth, but wanted to compliment this handsome stud.

Jim flexed his arm next to Adam's. "It's only 18 inches," he confessed. His arm looked small, like a boy's next to a man's. "How big is that cannon of yours?"

"Don't know. Never bothered to check. Just kept trying to make it bigger," Adam lied. He unflexed, and moved his hand to Jim's bicep, rubbing his big hand over it's hard mass. He moved to Jim's shoulder, then traced the leather-stud's harness, his hand ending up on Jim's pec. "Ya, I think I'll look real good in something like this. You agree?"

Jim's body flushed at Adam's touch. Jim was all man, but Adam was so much more. His cock throbbed against its leather cage. "Yes, sir... er, I mean..."

"No," Adam interrupted. He knew what Jim wanted but couldn't admit. "Name's Adam," he said, then added with authority, "but I think you should call me 'sir'. And what's your name, boy?"

"Uhm, bo... I mean, Jim."

Adam took a step toward Jim. He placed his hands on Jim's arms, feeling their firmness and squeezing the ample muscle. He looked deep into Jim's eyes. "Jim's a good name, boy." Adam's accute hearing heard Jim's heart racing with desire. "Now, don't you think you ought to start measuring me." Adam stepped closer, pressing his pecs into Jim's manly chest.

Jim felt as though he was on fire. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, then whispered, "yes sir." He pressed into Adam before pulling back, turning and picking up a tape measure. "I need to measure the circumference of your chest. Uhm... I mean, for the harness," he added, afraid of the big man's reaction and masking his secret desire to manhandle Adam's huge muscles.

"Why not start with this," suggested Adam, raising his arm and again flexing his huge bicep. "You wanted to know how big it is. Go ahead boy, find out."

Jim nodded. There were butterflies in his stomach and he felt his hands get sweaty. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. 'Act professional,' he thought to himself, but his hardening cock had other ideas for him. He felt his hand begin to quivver, intimated by the size of this man's arm. He regained control as he wrapped the tape measure around. "Fuck!" he exclaimed involuntarily as he realized the man's flexed peak was forty-plus inches. He pulled the tape tight, and read the number. "42".

"Are you sure?" Adam flex harder, drawing more power from the energy giving metal. His bicep grew.

"Shit! 45. No 47. That's impossible!"

Adam stopped the tape at 50.

"You're arms are almost three times the size of mine." Jim took a step back, dropping the tape to the floor.

Adam relaxed and placed his hands on Jim's arms. "Damn nice arms you got, boy." Adam moved his hands to the codpeice, which was obviously packed full. "And damned big cock."

Jim felt Adam's hand on his ever hardening dick. Adam squeezed, making Jim harder. Jim was under Adam's power. He closed his eyes and ran his hands over Adam's hulking arms. When he touched the metal armstraps, he was surprised that Adam's muscle seemed just as hard or harder than the metal, and the metal seemed to stretch and compress as Adam's muscle flexed.

Adam held onto Jim for a few seconds, then said, "Better get to measuring me, boy."

Jim popped out of his erotic trance. "Oh ya, sorry." He looked to the floor, regaining his composure, and picked up the tape measure. Adam stood still, his enormous pecs raising high and thick. He raised his arms and Jim tried to wrap the tape around Adam's powerful torso. Jim's long arms were too short go around Adam's heaving pecs and thick, wide lats.

"Need me to hold an end for you, boy?" Adam asked with a smirk. In Jim's mind, Adam could sense the lust the leatherman had for him and his power. He liked it. He took one end of the tape, and with a twist of his head, ordered Jim to walk around him, the tape wrapping around the thickest part of his torso. Jim's hand shook when he realized the eight-foot tape was inches too small.

Adam inhaled, forcing his diaphram up and tightening his waist. The vaccuum made his stomach super-thin, then he flexed his abs and pecs and spread his lats. The tape had no chance of measuring Adam's titanic muscular size. He laughed. "Ya! No one's bigger than this. You like it, don't you boy!"

Jim dropped the tape and put his mouth to Adam's hard nipple. He bit, tasting the huge man's power. In Jim's mind, Adam could see the harness. Adam placed his hands on Jim's shoulder, pulling him away from his nipple. "Back to work boy!" He lowered Jim to his crotch. Jim picked the tape up and wrapped it around Adam's waist. Jim's mind filled with the instructions to make the cod piece.

"Good boy. Now, for some hot leather pants. And I want these," Adam pointed to the chains, "around the cuffs. That OK, boy?"

"Whatever you want, Sir," Jim agreed. First, Jim measured Adam's inseam. His disbelief grew as he wrapped the tape around Adam's ripped outer thigh, noting it was more than twice as big as Jim's waist. To be safe, he measure Adam's calf at an amazing 28 inches, then finally the cuff. In his mind, Jim planned how to construct the pants. Adam saw it all.

As Jim rose, Adam stared at him, mentally ordering him to pause. When Jim stopped, Adam called upon his super speed. Faster than Jim could register, he measured leather and sewed it to the metal. He created a harness, then chaps and finally a codpiece. He wrapped his muscles in leather, pushing the magic metal to his skin. He felt powerful. He looked in the mirror at his new costume. 'All I need is to finish these glasses," he thought as he moved to Jim. The process took less than a second. He stood before Jim, looking in his eyes. 'I'm here to pick up my purchase.' He willed Jim to believe and react.

"I hope you're satisfied with my work, sir," Jim said. "I've never had to make such large gear before." Jim's cock stirred more as he admired his work, recalling the effort to build a harness big enough for this customer or chaps that could contain those massive thighs.

Adam bounced his pecs, the metal stretching and contracting to accomidate his hard muscle. The chaps highlighted every ridge of his massive thighs and calves, and the codpiece swelled to contain his manhood. Adam smiled at Jim, willing the man to satisfy his sexual desires. Jim started to lick and suck on Adam's neck when Adam's concentration was interrupted when he heard a commotion from next door.

Adam issued a mental command to Jim to stop. He turned, and looked at the wall. He saw through it. The kid at the tattoo shop was pressed against the wall. A shirtless guy had him in an arm lock, and another was going through the cash register. Adam was impressed. Both men looked powerful, like powerlifters but more defined. Adam turned his attention back to Jim.

"Gotta leave you boy. I'm needed." Adam turned.

"Can I see you again," Jim pleaded.

"Count on it." Adam left Jim's shop. Jim walked to the door and saw the big man looking into the tattoo shop. He stood there for a minute, then entered. Jim thought for a second, then flipped the sign to "closed" and followed.

Outside the tatoo parlor Adam used his vision powers and watched what was transpiring inside the shop. The crook at the cash register had picked it up and was crushing it with his bare hands, his forearms swelling with strength and his pecs rippling as the contracted the metal with ease. "This will be your head if you don't tell me where the money is!" The hood's arms swelled with new muscle as they overpowered the steel, his chest and back ballooning with strength as the metal was forced further in upon itself. "We know you got it, now tell." He tossed the the crumpled metal ball to the other thief.

"I think he needs some more encouragement," said the second man, throwing the kid to the ground, placing his foot on the kid's back and holding the kid down with his muscular leg. The bully took the metal between his hands and pressed, flexing his thick chest as he squeezed. His pecs flexed and ballooned larger as he flattened the metal ball into a disc with his hands.

Adam watched in disbelief as both men inflated with more muscle and strength.

The bully reached down and lifted the kid off the ground with one hand, his bowling ball delts ripping into three distinct heads. "Last chance, wimp," he said. When the kid began to cry, the bully laughed. He grabbed the kid's head with his hands and shoved the kid's face between his pecs. The ravine in the muscleman's chest was easily as deep as the kid's head, which was swallowed by the massive muscles. Then he flexed, ironhard muscle squeezing the kid's head with crushing force. A muffled scream only made the two villans snicker as the kid thrashed and futilely fought to free himself from the overwhelming power.

Adam had seen enough. "Let him go!" he demanded as he barged into the parlor. Adam moved toward the two thugs, flaring his lats into massive wings and bouncing his leather-bound pecs in a show of masculine intimidation.

"Who the fuck are you?" asked the thief behind the counter. He vaulted over the counter to confront Adam, "and how are you gonna make us?"

"Call me Brawn," said Adam, "and these will make you." Adam flexed his massive peaked bis, the metal straps glistening in the light.

The thief's expression didn't change. He moved his right hand to his left wrist below his watch, and held it there. After a second, he took a step toward Brawn and looked at his massive cannon with contempt. "Pretty good, but not good enough," he said as he slowly raised his arm next to Adam's. The thug began to flex, and as he did, his bicep grew up and tricep expanded downward. With slow, deliberate motions, the thief contracted his arm, and as he did, it grew larger, thicker and harder. It took him a good fifteen seconds to complete his flex, and when he did, his arm was noticably bigger than Adam's.

Brawn laughed. He placed a hand over the monsterous muscle and began to crush it with his fingers. The thief screamed, and tried to pull his arm away, but Adam was too strong. "Ya it's big, but kinda soft." Brawn threw a punch into the thiefs rock-gut, forcing the wind out of his lungs and sending him flying backwards. Before he could turn, the other thief had launched himself at Brawn's massive back. He too had somehow muscled-up. Now, he was even bigger than the first crook, and his massively muscled body was like a battering-ram hitting Brawn. Brawn lunged forward and nearly fell as the muscle monster wrapped his arms around Brawn's torso and squeezed.

Adam was surprised at the man's size and strength. Adam willed himself stronger, and found he could breath again. Then he felt the other man's strength increase again. He looked down, and noticed that the watch was not a watch but a dial of some kind. It read one quarter full, and seemed to be dropping. Brawn concentrated, and his vision penetrated the man's skin. There was some kind of reservoir attached to a pump beneath his skin. It was a quarter full of a liquid that was being injected into the man's blood stream.

Brawn moved his arms to the thug's wrists. He pulled the thug's arms, but felt the man resist. Adam noticed the dial move lower. 'Damn... what's this guy on. Almost out of juice. Gotta win soon.' Brawn heard the voice in his head and knew he was hearing the thief's thoughts. 'Gotta give Roger time.' Slowly, Brawn increased his strength and the thief resisted, the dial inching closer to empty. Adam felt the thief's body swell as his muscles grew, attempting to overcome his own limitless strength. Adam felt himself being lifted, then thrown to the ground with such force that the building shook.

Brawn took advantage of the opening he had been given. In a microsecond, he was up and on the thief. He grabbed the man's left pectoral muscle in his big hand and began to squeeze. The man tightened his muscle, the flex resisting Brawn's claw hold. The instant Brawn's fingers pressed into the muscle, they were forced back by a steely-hard strength. Brawn's fingers turned white as the man screamed, flexing his pecs harder to resist Brawn's granite-crushing grip.

Suddenly, Adam felt the resistence in the man's muscle wane and the growth stop. The dial on the man's wrist was fully to the left, and the thief's strength had reached its limit. Brawn's fingers dug into the man's chest as the muscle stopped hardening and succumb to the power of Brawn.

"Now it's your turn to let him go!" It was Roger. Brawn snapped around to see the second thief with one massive arm around the neck of Jim.

Adam felt a rush of anger followed by an energy surge. Using his clawlike grip, he lifted the man into the air by his pectoral and threw him hard. The man hit a wall with a loud "THUD", his massive muscle absorbing the brundt of the impact. "If you hurt him, I'll kill you!" Brawn screamed.

Roger pulled out a metal vial with a plastic tip and tossed it to the other man. "Here Joe," he said as the other man caught the vial. Joe pulled off the plastic, revealing a needle. He put the needle into his wrist below the gage. Using his enhanced vision, Brawn saw the needle rise from empty to full.

"Now that's more like it," said Joe, striking an obscene most-muscular pose, forcing his muscle to harden and grow slightly. He walked over to Roger and took Jim in one hand. "How'd you like a hug, boy!"

Brawn began to move.

"Stay right there!" Roger commanded. "You even think about moving, and I'll squash pretty-boy like a banana." Roger tensed, and pain shot into Jim's eyes as his face contorted, trying to hide his feelings.

Adam's mind raced. If he used superspeed, he might be able to pull Jim away but could the man's body take the heat generated by the friction with the air? He couldn't risk it. His anger grew, and his muscle tightened. Veins pulsed throughout his body and he felt his temperature rise. As he got angrier, the metal on his body began to glow. Slowly, the glow expanded over Brawn's body, glow a golden aura accentuating his huge fame. Suddenly a beam shot from the harness ring between his heaving pecs hitting Jim. Jim's body absorbed the beam and glowed the same golden color.

Roger reacted by using his massive guns to crush the life from Jim. Instead, Jim felt nothing. In fact, Jim felt different -- stronger. The beam from Brawn was energizing him with a feeling of power and masculinity. Roger's grip began to losen as Jim's chest grew, his pecs and lats thickening. Jim's leather harness began to tighten as the muscles on his torso ballooned up. The leather and metal pressed into Jim's muscles, but the hard flesh would not be denied. The metal ring pulled into an oval as the leather stretched thin then snapped, falling to the floor. Jim's chaps conformed to his thickening quads, hams and calves -- the ridge of every muscle visible -- before ripping.

Roger fought to contain Jim, to squeeze him down. The muscle serum pumped furiously into his body, and the gage twisted from full to empty as Jim's power overwhelmed Roger. In seconds, Jim took control. Jim began to force his watermellon-sized arms out while Roger tried to squeeze Jim's arms in. Roger lost. Jim's cannonball shoulders overpowered the Roger's super strong arms as if he were a child.

"Fucker, don't you ever do that to me again," cried Jim as he twisted around and slammed his fist into Roger's face. Roger's head snapped back on his bull neck from the impact of Jim's missle-like fist and blood dripped from his mouth as he fell to the ground unconscious. "Damn wimp!" Jim screamed as he flexed his massive peaks at the fallen thief. "Fucking A man, that was a rush!"

Brawn took the opportunity to act. In the blink of an eye he sped across the room and threw a series of earth-shaking punches at Joe. Joe had no time to resist or even call upon his muscle serum, the attack was too fast. Brawn's fists were a blur as they hit Joe's rock hard abs and super dense pecs. Joe was helpless against the onslaught and fell back, trying to regroup.

Jim watched, seeing Brawn's hands as if in slow motion. Using his new powers, he sped behind Joe.

Joe found his way blocked by Jim. "Not so fast, asshole." Jim grabbed Joe's arms, pulling them behind his back while Brawn continued to pummel the man with earth-shaking punches. Jim looked down and saw the vial of muscle liquid buried below the thief's skin. Laser's shot from Jim's eyes as the liquid in the vial began to boil. Joe screamed as super-heated growth serum was forced into his blood, raising his body temperature above 107 degrees. Joe's body spasmed as he lost consciousness, his limp form held up by Jim.

Jim easily lifted Joe's ragdoll-like body and tossed it on top of Roger's.

"Man, that was a rush!" said Jim, walking over to Adam. He put his hand on Adam's chest and rubbed it. "Whatever you did to me, sir, thanks! I'm huge." Jim raised his arm, flexing his bicep for his master.

"Still looks kinda small, boy," said Brawn as he raised his arm, his mountainous muscle dwarfing Jim's hill. Jim moved his free arm to Brawn's muscle, then to his, feeling the strength and size in each. His eager cock bounced in what remained of his pants. Adam noticed Jim's obvious enthusiasm. "Not now boy." Turning to the tattoo parlor owner. "So, what was that about?"

Ron had managed to pull himself off the floor. In his mind, Brawn could see the story. These thieves were traitors, and Ron was a middle man between them and a terrorist cell. Instead of turning the money over to them, Ron had kept it, run away and used it to open this shop. Before Brawn could react, he heard something at the door. Turning, he saw nine men, hugely muscled in military fatigues. Each had a vial full of muscle growth serum implanted in their arms.

The biggest one walked over to Brawn. "Pretty good, big guy, but we'll take it from here."

 

Chapter 4: What Traitors Wrought

Brawn and Jim turned to face the new man. 'I need to know...' shot through Adam's consciousness, and his Brawn powers took over. He saw the soldier's life as a movie that played itself inside his mind.

Chris had grown up on a farm. He was a small boy and bookish. He felt he was a disappointment to his father, never living up to the man's expectations. He had graduated high school in June of 2001, and planned on taking up farming like his family. That changed on September 11. Chris's patriotic spirit took over and he enlisted to fight his country's enemies.

Boot camp was hard for him. Chris had never done a push-up in his life, let alone fifty or a hundred. Whenever his body wanted to stop, rebelling against the shouts of his Drill Sergeant, his mind rescued him. He thought of the towers collapsing and the faces of the dead, their stories told in newspapers, and he pushed himself beyond his limits. Chris's commanding officers saw this drive in him. That's why he was selected.

That's where Chris met these men. None were exceptional in anyway then. In fact, all had joined after 9-11 and each had difficulty with boot camp. They were all thin and lacked muscular size. The weeks of training had put each of these boys into the best shape of their lives, but they were still at the bottom of the food chain when it came to the other men.

"That's about to change," said the Colonel. That's when they were told of their mission. The Colonel held up a comic book, a first edition Captain America. "You boys are going to be our Captain Americas." That's when they were fitted with pumps and given the serum.

Chris remembered the pain after the pump had been installed. His thin forearm was scarred and there was a distinct bump where the instrument had been inserted below his skin. That changed two weeks later, after the incision had healed and they filled the reservoir for the first time.

"You might feel warm or hot, then maybe euphoric like you can take on the world. That's normal, " said the doctor as he held the vial of the yellowish serum. "It's your body changing."

"Is the change permanent," someone had asked.

"Yes, this first time it is," replied the doctor in a clinical voice. "But future enhancements are only temporary. They will last at most one day, depending on the dosage of the prescription that you administer."

Chris's memories of that first dose were vivid and intense, as well as erotic. He remembers feeling awkward standing in just an oversized jock strap that barely clung to his body as the doctors fiddled with their drugs. After the reservoir had been filled, he started the pump to inject the drug into his system. He did feel hot and warm, but he also felt something else. He liked the feeling of his muscles swelling and pushing against the confining skin. He felt heavier and bigger. His body and penis began to fill the jock, then began to press on it as the fabric strained to contain him. The feeling of being weak and small left him, replaced by a self-assurance. He felt strong and big and heavy. His legs swelled and he was forced to adopt a wider stance. His balls throbbed as they expanded and filled with his juices. Instinctively, he raised his arms to the sides of his head as he sucked in his hard waist and puffed his expanding chest, screaming in ecstasy as his power grew. Chris felt lost in his growing power and strength, living his dream for a lifetime before the feeling slowly stopped. When he returned to earth, he had more muscles and strength than the biggest bodybuilder or powerlifter.

Adam could see in Chris's mind how much he loved the power.

Like Joe and Roger, Chris could use the formula to increase his strength at will. Reservoirs of the serum were implanted in their arms, and they carried refill cartridges if necessary.

"Whoa!" Adam's concentration was interrupted by Jim, who had a surprised look on his face.

"Guess we are kinda a sight," said Chris, reacting. Adam turned to Jim and knew it wasn't what made Jim exclaim. Less than a moment had passed, but Jim had read the same thoughts Adam had.

Adam concentrated. "We'll talk about this in a second," he projected at Jim. "Be cool for now until we know what they want."

Jim responded, his thoughts flooding Adam's mind. "So, that's how you did it. Wow. This is so cool." Then, Jim projected what he had learned from Joe and Roger.

Jim had seen it just as clearly as Adam had seen Chris's memories. Joe and Roger had the same initial experience, but their loyalty wasn't to the unit or their country. They wanted power and they wanted money. Once they had the power, they began to plan how to use it to get everything else.

The unit had been stationed in Afghanistan, taking out Al Queda and other terrorist operations. Covertly, the special operations force identified cells and units. Then, using their power, they took them out. They were fast and strong, and the unsuspecting terrorists didn't stand a chance. Their thick muscles were resistant to most bullets, and their strength enabled them to take on and destroy any obstacle. The unit was unstoppable.

It happened when Roger and Joe were on guard duty. Intelligence had identified their prisoner as a low-level operative. They were wrong. One among many intelligence failures that the unit had grown use to. The prisoner, while not high-ranking, was connected. He promised Roger and Joe riches if they would turn over the secret of their strength and power. Ron was the middle man. Schematics, formulas, processes, everything had been delivered to the other side, except Ron had skipped out with the money. Roger and Joe had deserted with their own supply of the formula -- enough to keep them powerful and take on any enemy. Anyone except Brawn.

"Ya," Brawn replied to Chris. "Pretty impressive. Guess you want these traitors?"

Chris had a good poker face, but his thoughts betrayed his surprise at the term. He wondered if Adam had been given the formula.

"No worries soldier," Brawn responded. "I'm one of the good guys. Me and my sidekick here. But I think you do have some problems." Brawn walked over to Joe and Roger and shoved each one hard to the special forces soldiers. The traitors flew into them, but were caught and overpowered by the eagerly waiting men.

Chris looked at Brawn, then extended a hand. "Name's Lietenant Smith."

Adam took his hand. Chris's forearm bulged as he squeezed, testing Brawn's strength. Adam grinned, then squeezed back. Both men's forearms swelled with muscle, veins pusling below the skin. They held the grip for five seconds, then ten, until Chris's face finally began to grimace at the might contained in Adam's powerful paw.

"Nice to meet you, Smith," said Adam, squeezing just a bit harder before letting go. "You can call me Brawn."

"Heh," said Chris, shaking out his hand, "nice name. Nice duds too."

"It's a look," replied the powerful muscleman. "Pup appreciates it, don't you boy?"

Jim walked over, extending his hand to Chris. "Yes sir, I do." Jim then projected to Adam, "and now I know why." There was a twinkle in Jim's eye as Chris gently took his hand.

"Lietentant, I think there is something we need to talk about, but not here." Brawn said seriously. In Chris's mind, Adam picked out the location of their base. "Pup and I will meet you at Crystal Palace in twelve hours where we can discuss this mess."

Into Jim's mind, Adam projected, "Time to learn some secrets man, unless you don't want those big muscles you got now?"

Jim projected pleasure at Adam, "I'm your boy now, and I'd love to be your sidekick. Every good superhero needs a sidekick, if only for homoerotic ambiguity."

Instantaneously, Adam filled Jim's mind with his story -- the strange meteor, the power, the cave and the metal. Adam felt Jim's mind search his body, and Jim understood. He needed a costume too, one made from the metal. Without it or proximity to Adam, he'd weaken.

"Dude! Let's go to my shop. I know just the look I want for your Pup." Jim projected.

"Then to the cave." Adam added. "Twelve hours, soldier," Brawn said to Chris.

"But..." Chris Smith tried to say, but both men were gone in a blur.

[Before...]

In the Hindukush range is a secret base hidden in the caves. Achmed bin Mohammed sits on a bench, 300KG of weight on a bar. He lies down and places his arms on the bar. His chest flexes, huge pecs pressing the weight upward. The bar is his to command as he lowers the weight to his chest, then slowly raises it, controlling the weight against gravity. For ten reps, the muscular man controls the bar, commanding it to move.

Achmed began lifting weights thirteen years ago, when he was ten. He hadn't yet grown to his full 175 cm height. Then, he had no time for religion, for Allah. He was preoccupied with his own selfish desires, his own obsession with becoming a man. Then, he was determined to build a supreme body and to capitalize on it in Hollywood. He would escape the poverty of his homeland, and the oppression. He would meet a Hollywood starlet and marry her, living in Beverly Hills, own a big car and have a swimming pool.

By the time Achmed was thirteen, he was the strongest boy in his village. His father taught him the ancient technique to augment his manhood. Achmed would stroke and squeeze his organ two or three times a day. He would be a superior lover too.

Achmed sits up. His chest is pumped. His sweat-drenched hairs cling to the muscles, making his brown skin darker. The pungent smell of a man working his body fills the room.

By the time Achmed was eighteen, no man in the village could compete with him. He was the strongest. In the baths, his manhood was superior. He liked it when the older men touched him, worshipping his body. They would try to flex, show him how strong they were, but they were weak. He was bigger and stronger. They longed for his youth, his fine black hair and sky blue eyes. His body was wide and thick while their's was thinner. It made him feel superior, and it made his organ hard. Most could not believe his thirty-four centimeters of thick manhood, and they would comment on how lucky his wife would be as they begged to touch it or suck it. When they revealed their smaller, thinner organs, Achmed knew that he was the superior man. He used the other men and boys as play things while he waited for his dream to come true. Achmed had been a fool.

Achmed flexes his chest, squeezing it as he lies on the bench preparing for another set. Yes, he knows he is strong and his manliness unmatched. But it is not for him that this is true. He is a servant of Allah and Allah's will be done.

When the infidels had invaded, the prophet fled and hid in Achmed's village. That is when he heard the words that changed him. He realized that his strength and beauty were not his, but a gift of Allah. He realized that Hollywood was not the savior, but the devil's tool. The invaders came to destroy his people. They had corrupted him with their lies, and now Allah called to him through the Prophet. Allah needed him to fight the invaders.

Achmed would have given up his body and soul, but the Prophet said no. Allah had given Achmed his strength as a gift. The Prophet's generals told Achmed of a group of invaders whose strength defied description. These invaders could single handedly defeat whole groups of Allah's fighters, martyring them in their defense of the true religion. The generals wanted Achmed to continue his training. Soon, it became clear that the generals had a plan. There were traitors among the infidels. They had supplied information about the process that create the supermen. The Prophet now had that information, and his own scientists were analyzing it.

The infidels are stupid. They fear the power, and give it only to their weakest. The Prophet learned that the process could be refined to make a man thousands of times stronger, yet the infidels limit it. The Prophet said that power would be Achmed's, and the time was now.

A man in a white coat comes to Achmed. "We are ready." Achmed nods. "You understand, we can only guess at the results. You are much stronger that the original subjects. Plus, the serum we are giving you is ten times more powerful than the one the Americans use. Your body may not be able to handle it."

"Allah will protect me," Achmed replies.

"Allah be praised," replies the scientist, who hands Achmed two vials of a yellow serum. "Your more muscular forearm allowed us to implant a reservoir twice as large as in the Americans. Fill it now and begin when ready."

Achmed takes a vial and empties its contents into his forearm. A dial on his wrist reads half full. He empties the other vial. Achmed turns and looks in a mirror one last time. He strikes a most muscular crab pose, noting his massive development that any bodybuilder would be proud of. Out of the corner of his eye, he notes the scientist adjusting a growing bulge in his pants. Achmed smiles. "Allah is great!" he shouts and started the pump.

A warmth flows from Achmed's forearm up his arm and into his chest. The heat radiates down his other arm, into his abs and loins, then down his legs. Achmed closes his eyes as a feeling of power comes over him. There is a buzz around him, "what's happening!" "growing" "not planned". Achmed feels good and ignores the scientists. His mind tells him they are nothing but flies. He relaxes and tries to lower his chin, but finds that his swelling chest blocks it. He feels his lats pressing against his thickening neck. His arms are being forced away from his body both by their growing mass and his thickening lats. He unconsiously changes his stance as his hams and quads demand more room. He hears the word "stop" and feels a hand against his wrist trying to interfere with his growth -- with Allah's plan. He raises his hand so quickly the scientist who tries to interfere was thrown against the far wall. Achmed feels nothing, lost in a euphoria of his strengthening, growing muscles. Something deep inside him is being fulfilled as his strengthening body finally is able to experience his lifelong dream.

Achmed faintly hears a ripping sound as his loin cloth falls from him, unable to contain neither his expanding glutes nor his powerful cock. His thirteen-plus inches of thick meat is growing harder and presses into the deepening cavern between his cinderblock-like abs. Instinctively, Achmed moves a big hand over his abs, marvelling in their hardness. He feels the touch, but his mind no longer recognizes his body. It is growing so much larger. He feels his manhood press between his pecs. Raising his hand higher, he feels boulders-sized pecs rising from his chest. He flexes them, feeling his steel-hard cock squeezed between his growing muscle.

Gradually, Achmed becomes conscious of the activity around him. He hears a man say, "put the stretcher here." "What about him?" "No, stay away. We don't know what he's capable of." He hears someone whisper, "so much muscle." Achmed opens his eyes.

In the mirror is a huge figure that Achmed does not recognize. Once, he remembers seeing an American comic book about a green giant possessing super-human strength. The artists drew the character with massively enlarged muscles. The figure staring at Achmed from the mirror makes this character seem puny. The huge man is easily over two meters tall, a meter and a half wide and insanely thick. As Achmed raises his arm, so does the behemouth in the mirror. He flexes his arm, and demands that the soccerball sized bicep rise. Thick-ropey striations push veins high as the muscle grows in a display of manly strength. Achmed forgets about his swollen cock, which begins to shoot jism high into the room. He realizes that no man can now match his power.

"Are..." a man in a white coat approaches. "Are you OK?"

Before Achmed can answer, the ground begins to shake, throwing the men in white coats off balance. A loud explosion follows moments later. In the distance, Achmed hears, "The Americans are bombing us. The entrance to the cave has collapsed."

"It is a test," says Achmed. He grabs a white coat and quickly creates a loin cloth big enough to contain his new size. He grabs two vials of the muscle enhancing formula. Achmed refills the empty reservoir as he pushes past a barrage of panicked people. Where the entrance to the cave use to be is now a stack of rocks. The smell of noxious gas fills the area. Half a torso of a dead girl lies visible, crushed under the tons of rocks now blocking the entrance.

Achmed's eyes blaze with anger. "Stand back," he says, forcing serum to pump into his veins. Instantly, his massive frame pumps with strength, energized by his righteous anger. Achmed powers forward, driven by rage and a feeling of invincibility. He raises his fist and powers it into a large rock. The sound of earth shattering reverberates through the cave. The rock is instantly propelled at supersonic speed by the power in Achmed's arm. The pulverized rock particles ricochet forward, vaporizing the rock before them. The American planes circling the battle area see a plume of rock and earth explode from the cave that they had just bombed.

In the now clear entrance, Achmed stands menacingly. Inside the cave, the crowd grows silent, awed by their hero and wondering what he will do next. Achmed looks up at the three circling fighter jets. He reaches down and grabs three small rocks. He finds the farthest plane and anticipates its path. Achmed takes a single rock in his hand. He aims, and pitches the stone with all his might. The rock blazes like a meteor directly toward the plane and rips through its wing and fuselage. The plane explodes into a fireball and begins to fall from the sky. Immediately Achmed takes a second stone, repeating the performance on a second plane. Achmed then takes aim at the third plane with the remaining stone. As he launches the rock with the incredible power of his arm, the plane fires its last missile. The rock finds its target, but too late. From the third fireball in the sky, a blazing trail heads toward Achmed, the cave, and the people.

Without thinking, Achmed squats, forcing power into his legs. Mighty thighs and calves explode as he leaps toward the missile. Achmed forces more enhancement serum into his body. His muscles grow and harden as he flies toward the incoming projectile. As he nears it, he extends his arms and grabs it. It's rocket engines fight him, but Achmed grabs the base of the cylinder and squeezes. The engine coughs, then flames out. Achmed pulls the rocket into his torso and squeezes.

From the ground, the crowd watches as the muscular giant seems to fly away. Suddenly, there is a flash of light followed by an earth-shaking explosion. A few people gasp, then the crowd goes silent. They see nothing. Seconds tick by slowly, and a few people begin to sob. "Wait! Look!" shouts a young man, pointing toward a dot in the sky. The dot grows at it approaches them, taking the form of a man, then the giant. The ground shakes as he lands, his massive legs absorbing the impact. A cheer rises from the crowd.

Achmed is covered with blackened soot. On his massive torso where the missile had exploded, a white blistered outline is visible. Shrapnel and TNT, unable to damage his thick powerful muscles had had an effect on his skin. The scarring came to a point between his massive pecs and expanded in a triangular shape down his torso, then stops, narrows and thins. "He is marked with the sign of a sword," he hears someone mutter.

"I am reborn," replies Achmed. "Allah, through his great Prophet, has anointed me to be his servant on earth, and his will be done."

"Allah be praised!" screams the crowd.

"I now bear the mark of the Prophet Mohammed, wielding his sword for truth and the righteousness of our people. Before you, I accept the power he has given me. I promise you, with my might and my strength, I will bring destruction to our enemies and freedom to our people!"

The crowd chants, "Praised be Allah. Praised be the Sword of Mohammed." as they walk to their savior, touching him and bowing to him.

 

Chapter 5: Attack

Adam and Jim sped toward their meeting with the military. Their thickly muscled legs powered them faster than the eye could see toward the heavily fortified military complex. Adam had to remind himself to hold back, else his stronger legs would propel him too fast for Jim to keep up. He knew he didn't have to hold back much. Adam had learned that Jim's legs were amazingly strong. Adam turned his head to see how Jim was keeping up.

'He's so fucking sexy,' Adam thought, looking at his new sidekick, remembering their recent encounter where he had fashioned his boy's costume. Adam had taken Jim to the secret cave where he hid the meteorite. He easily lifted the multi-ton rock to the amazement of Jim.

"Fuck! You're the strongest man ever!" Jim's reaction made Adam's cock hard.

As the two men approached the meteor, both their bodies grew, becoming more muscular. Their already massive pecs expanded, pressing into their chins. Their arms were forced from their sides as lats widened and thickened. Their abs became thick bricks and legs bulged with power. Each felt a surge of strength as their muscles thickened.

Jim's eyes widened. He raised his arm and flexed, his bicep exploding up in a massive peak. Jim put his mouth to his arm and kissed the hard muscle, then licked it. "Mmmmmmm.... fucking strong," his deep voice resonated as he worshipped his new strength.

Adam moved close. He raised his arm, flexing hard so that his bigger arm overshadowed Jim's. With his free hand, he grabbed Jim's wrist. He applied pressure and Jim's arm began to straighten. Jim fought, but Adam's arm would not be denied. "You wanna worship muscle, boy? I've got more than you can imagine." Adam pressed his powerful body into Jim. "You don't need this," he said as Adam ripped the harness that strained to contain Jim's powerful body. "Or these," he said, putting his thumbs around the waist of Jim's chaps and ripped them off as if they were paper. Jim's now freed hard cock slapped into his abs.

Without a word, Jim moved his big hands to Adam's chest. He slipped Adam's harness off, slid the armbands off Adam's upper arms. Adam smiled. Placing his hands on Jim's traps, he pushed down. Jim's legs shook, then buckled as Adam's incomprehensible strength overpowered him. When Jim was kneeling before Adam, the massive man nodded and said, "continue."

Jim didn't need to be told twice. He removed the codpeice and stripped Adam, sucking on his master's huge cock and massive nuts, tongue bathing his massive legs and sucking on the man's toes. When Adam was naked, Jim looked into his master's face with an impish grin. Jim wrapped his own massive arms around Adam's calves. Before Adam could react, Jim lifted the massive man up as if he were a ragdoll and threw him to the ground. Jim lept on Adam, wrapping his massive legs around Adam's steel-hard abs. Jim grabbed Adam's arms and, using all his strength, held them to the ground.

Adam could see Jim's hard cock leaking copious amounts of precum. "So, my boy wants to play?" Jim's grin said it all. Adam flexed his arms, forcing them up. Jim's face turned red as he demanded more power from his arms, and forced Adam down. With ease, Adam doubled his efforts and his arms began to move again. Jim's face showed his strain as his head flipped back and he screamed. Momentarily, he was able to stop the movement of Adam's arms, but only for a moment. Adam forced Jim's arm back. Adam began to sit up, but Jim wasn't done yet. He wrapped his powerful legs around Adam's abs and locked them. He squeezed hard.

Adam could hardly believe Jim's power. He felt the man's legs crush his stomach, and instinctively he flexed. The pressure stopped. He could feel Jim's legs flexing hard against his iron gut, but his muscle shield held.

Jim grinned a knowing grin, then forced his legs to close. He felt Adam's abs dent in, and Adam groaned. "Ya!" Jim screamed as he forced more power from his legs.

Adam was finding it harder to breath. Each time Adam exhaled, Jim's leg hold tightened. He flexed his abs harder, but they were being crushed by Jim's more powerful legs. Adam was amazed at the power in his boy's redwood-sized thighs. As Jim flexed, cables of thick, steely-hard muscle pressed into his abs, crushing them. Adam strained, but no amount of the considerable power he could summon was enough to stop Jim's legs from crushing him.

In desperation, Adam reached behind his back and grabbed Jim's ankles. He pried, his bis, tris and forearm muscles rippling and shredding with power. Jim's legs stopped, but their crushing force remained. Adam cried out, demanding more strength from his massive arms. Slowly, he forced Jim's legs apart with the sheer might of his arms, screaming with the effort. Adam felt warm liquid hit his chin and run down his chest as Jim's cock sprayed cum over his torso as his slave realized the power of the master.

"You're strong boy, but not strong enough. Now you'll be punished," Adam said panting. He freed himself from Jim's powerful legs and threw his torso on top of Jim's. Jim felt Adam's huge cock and balls between his legs, pressing into his butt. Adam flexed his pecs, rubbing Jim's cum between the two muscular bodies. Adam wrapped his own powerful legs around Jim's, pinning the powerful tree trunks that had held him captive. He flexed his mountainous arm in front of Jim's face. "Look at that, boy! Your legs are strong, but that arm is stronger." Adam moved his bi close to Jim's lips. "Worship my power, boy." Adam felt Jim's cock throb harder as he said this. "Ya, you want to worship this power, don't you?" Jim responded by licking, then sucking, on the round bicep.

Adam responded by flexing his abs, trapping Jim's cock in the deep ridge. He relaxed and flexed, slowly rubbing his body over the organ. Jim groaned. "Ya, damn strong legs to overpower these abs. You like how hard they are? Like having that big dick of yours jerked by their power?" Jim responded by pressing his thighs together, trapping Adam's cock between them. Jim began to flex, pressing then releasing against the iron-hard meet, using his legs like Adam was using his abs.

"Strong abs but stronger legs," whispered Jim as flexed into Adam's manhood. "Damn strong legs, but this fucking arm. Man! Love this arm. Fuck, so powerful."

"Ya," said Adam, feeling his juices growing in his balls. Adam began to grind his hips in Jim's flex, powering his abs to jerk his boy's meet. "Your legs... damn... gonna... fuck!" Adam felt his balls explode as his jizz shot out his cock. His entire body flexed as he came, crushing Jim's rod in the divide between his rocky abs.

Jim couldn't take it either and shot a second massive load. The warm jizz sputtered between their bodies as both men experienced the power of the other. When they stopped cumming, Adam and Jim collapsed into a post-coital embrace.

After several minutes, Adam roused himself. "Gotta get moving boy."

Jim stood, then looked at Adam. "Like this?" Jim grinned. "Besides, don't I need some of the magic rock to keep these?" He flexed his arm. "and, more importantly, these." He extended his leg and flexed his quads, which burst into high mountains and deep caverns of sheer male power.

As they ran toward the military installation, Adam was pleased with the uniform he had created for Jim. Like Adam, Jim wore dark glasses that hid his beautiful eyes. Around the man's neck was a collar made from the meterorites unusual metal. A metal leash attached to the collar, hanging between Jim's massive pecs and connecting to a hook on metal belt that he wore. Jim was bare chested, exposing his hyper-muscular torso and broad shoulders. His upper arms were bare, but he wore gauntlets around his forearms that were made from the metal. Jim also wore a jockstrap made from the metal that hugged his firm ass and held his manly cock. Over the strap, Jim wore a pair of leather shorts held up by the metal belt. His massive thighs were exposed, but he wore leather boots that were lined with the mysterious metal. Adam wanted to make sure Jim's legs had enough metal to feed their incredible strength. As he watched Jim easily keeping up with him, he knew he had succeeded. Adam had dubbed Jim "Brawn's Pup" and Jim approved.

The first indication that something was wrong came as Adam and Jim approached the guard station and fence surrounding the base. They stopped, inspecting what they saw. The post was abandoned, and the station looked as if a missile had hit it. Bulletproof glass lay shattered in the station. Blood and torn cloth were visible on the window frame as if a person were dragged through it. A rifle lay on the ground, it's muzzle bent back in a "U" shape.

"What happened to the guards?" Jim asked, scanning the area with his super senses.

Adam looked toward the main installation. "Deserted, or worse. Look there!" Adam pointed to the mountain that contained the base. The large metal door that was designed to protect the base from an atomic attack had been ripped from the mountain. It lay a quarter mile from the base entrance, and its circular shape was dented and deformed.

"Whoa! What could have done that?"

"Don't know," Adam replied. "But Brawn is going to find out. Let's go."

Once again the two men called upon their powers to propel them to the base. In the blink of any eye, there were at the entrance. A dozen soldiers lay on the ground. Adam stopped at one, Jim at another.

"This one's dead. What about yours Pup?" asked Brawn.

"Dead too." Jim opened the man's shirt, and saw that his chest had been caved in, crushing the internal organs. "God! Almost looks like he was hit by a battering ram or something."

"Or something," Brawn agreed. Adam moved toward the remains of the hinges, looking at the metal, examining it at the microscopic level.

Jim moved from man to man, checking for life. The body of each man was crushed or battered by some force. "They're all dead," The Pup said at last.

"And this looks like it was ripped from its hinges," said Brawn. A stern look came over Brawn's face as he faced into the complex. "Whoever did this is still here."

Brawn sped into the mountain complex. The Pup followed. They sped down corridors, into stair wells, down into the heart of the mountain, then down more corridors. As they ran, the passed more dead soldiers, and more damage as if a battalion of tanks had driven through the complex, firing megatons of explosives. As they ran deeper into the mountain, sounds of life and fighting could be heard.

Brawn and The Pup came to a pair of large blast doors that had been closed from the inside. Using their superior senses, they could hear a fight taking place behind the inches-thick doors. There were no handles to grab onto, but that did now stop the two heroes. Each man placed a muscular arm on the door, their fingers digging into the metal as if it were clay. With an easy pull, the doors flew from their hinges as if nothing had held them in place. Brawn and Pup tossed the doors back. They landed behind the men, who rushed into the larger inner chamber.

The chamber was the size of an airplane hanger. It was splattered with blood. Ten large, massively-muscled men lay unmoving and bloodied on the floor. Adam let out a gasp when he recognized them as the squadron of Special Forces soldiers. Adam stared, seeing their broken bones and shattered organs. All their reservoirs of the muscle-enhancer had been drained, but not before the men had absorbed the fluid into their bodies, growing their muscular size and strength to maximum limits. It has not been enough to save them.

"How..." Jim began, but loud thud followed by the scream of a man interrupted the question.

They turned. Lt. Chris Smith lay kneeling on the ground where he had been thrown. He was struggling to get up. His nose looked broken, and blood covered his upper lip. One eye was swollen shut and his cheek was obviously bruised. Smith never turned to look at Brawn or Pup. His attention was focussed on the other side of the room. Eventhough the man got up, Brawn and Pup sensed fear from him. The fear did not stop Smith. He lunged toward the other side of the room.

Smith's progress was stopped by a giant. The man was at least 7 feet tall. His head looked tiny on his massively muscled body. His shoulders were twice as wide as the muscular soldier's. He wore nothing but a loin cloth, exposing striated muscles below paper-thin skin. As he breathed, his massive chest expanded, and eight cinderblock-like abs expanded and contracted. With each step, shredded quads, calves and hamstrings demonstrated the incredible power the man commanded. Brawn nearly let out a gasp of amazement, but controlled his reaction.

The giant swatted Smith with his powerful arm, sending him hurling back as if the muscular soldier were a fly. Smith was groggy, and lay on the floor as the giant approached. Wrapping his hand around Smith's neck, he lifted the soldier.

"PUT HIM DOWN!" yelled Brawn. Brawned demanded speed, and faster than the giant could react, Brawn ran behind the man and jumped on the giant's back. He wrapped his strong arms around the man's neck. The man's lats were huge and thick, like wings on a B2 bomber. Brawn felt like an insect on the man, but forced his massive legs around the giant's thin, hard waist.

The man reacted with surprise, dropping Smith. Pup quickly ran to Smith, lifted him in his mighty arms and in the blink of an eye, ran him into the hall.

"Too strong..." Smith muttered. "Like us, but more powerful. Kept growing." Smith coughed, a trickle of blood running out of his mouth. "Our powers depleted, but he," cough, "kept growing."

Pup turned and stared. Brawn was applying a choke hold, his massive arms pressing into the giant's thick neck. The strain on Brawn's face was apparent. Pup concentrated, demanding to look through the giant's skin. That's when he saw it. The giant had multiple reservoirs of a liquid. From Smith's description, it must be similar to the formula that gave his men super strength. One of the reservoirs had been depleted, but others were full or nearly full. He telepathically melded with Brawn.

Pup could sense the struggle his mentor was having. The giant's neck was like titanium. For every bit that Brawn's incredible strength was able to press in, the giant seemed to become stronger and able to repel it. "He's using the formula!" Pup said telepathically.

"Can't risk letting go," replied Brawn, the struggle apparent in his mind.

Pup laid Smith against the wall and rushed back to Brawn. He grabbed the man's arm and tried to find the reservoir, to destroy the delivery system. Instead, he found that the man's skin resisted his power. The giant's arm thrashed, hitting Pup in the chest and sending him crashing into the steel wall, knocking him out.

Brawn felt Pup's pain and surprise through the telepathic link. It felt Pup lose consciousness as he hit the wall. He felt his anger build up, his blood pressure reaching critical mass from the way this madman had hurt his friend. Brawn's body began to glow, as the metal that fueled his power seemed to sense and feed on his emotions.

Brawn felt his arms pressing into the giant's neck, the titanium-like muscular shield that had resisted him breaking and giving way. Brawn felt stronger every second as his own muscle commanded the weaker muscles of the giant.

Brawn felt himself at full power, knowing that the giant would soon fall. But his sense of victory was short-lived. He felt his arms slow and then stop. He struggled to continue to strangle his enemy, the thing that had knocked out Pup, but he felt the giant's strength increasing. Brawn's legs were being pushed out by the giant's abs, his rock-gut becoming harder and thicker with new muscle. Brawn saw the giant's chest swelling, and the man seemed to be growing taller. Brawn's powerful arms were being pushed out again. He tried to redouble his effort, but his opponent was becoming too powerful for him. Brawn let out a war cry as the other man raised his arm to Brawn's and began pulling on it. Brawn tried to resist, but the other man was becoming too strong. Brawn could feel the giant's muscles exploding with uncontrollable power.

In a last ditch effort, Brawn tried to take control of the man with his mental powers. He concentrated, contacting the giant's mind. He could feel the release of the growth formula in the man's body -- the power flooding in at a rate Brawn could not comprehend.

"Stupid American's," the giant thought. "Your war machines rape our land and kill our people. You defy the will of Allah and I am his revenge. With his strength, I am his instrument of your destruction."

Brawn could barely comprehend the hatred this man felt. He didn't have time to react. Brawn's arm was pulled from the giant's neck. He felt his legs wrenched from around the man's waist. With a single hand, the man hurled Brawn into a wall. He crashed with such force that the wall deformed around him, embedding him in inches of steel and concrete. As he lost consciousness, the thoughts of the giant rang in his brain.

"I am the Sword of Muhammad, and no infidel will live to stand before me."

END

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