Oleg the Muscleguard
by John D.
Oleg got out of bed and stood before the mirror. He was totally nude. He always slept in the nude. He yawned and flexed his massive 27 inch arms in a double biceps pose. He watched with approval as the shredded muscle jumped to attention even at this early hour. His biceps and triceps were truly enormous, with hard, bulging fibers of muscle clearly visible under his tan skin and veins crisscrossing everywhere. He then placed his hands on his hips and flexed his pecs, lats and abs. His gigantic 75 inch chest bulged with muscle. His huge pecs pushed out from his ribcage, big and thick and striated with rippling muscle fibers. The cleavage between those two huge pieces of meat must have been six inches deep. His delts looked like bowling balls of muscle capping shoulders that were more than twice as wide as his hips. Thick, wide lats flared out to the sides, tapering down to his narrow, athletic hips. His 8-pack abs looked like a washboard. Shit, his waist was only 36 inches, tiny on a body that was packed with 400 pounds of muscle. He flexed his quads and watched the huge slabs of muscle spring to attention at his command. Fibers and veins were everywhere. His thighs measured an enormous 37 inches, bigger than his waist. His calves were 25 inches around, bigger than most guys' thighs. He smiled as he saw just how huge and shredded he was. His blue eyes and short blond hair betrayed his roots in Siberia. He was huge and he was good looking. He was a stud.
His big, thick cock started to get hard as he looked at his body in the mirror and thought about the day ahead. He was gonna have a lot of fun. He loved his job as the Muscleguard. He was gonna lift tons of heavy weights, eat tons of good food, snuff out some chickens just for fun, as many as he wanted, and fuck the shit out of at least five or six chickens. His record was ten fucks in one day. Ten chickens fucked to death by Oleg the Muscleguard.
Oleg had been the Muscleguard at the Zhigrov Prison Camp for six months. During that time he had put on 25 more pounds of muscle going from 375 to 400 pounds at his height of 6 feet 8 inches. He was a giant of a man and he was still young - only 20 years old. He was gonna keep getting bigger and stronger.
Oleg was the only child of two elite members of the old Soviet sports machine. Both his mother and father were shot-putters on the Soviet track and field team. They were each plucked out of their villages in Siberia at a young age by Soviet sports officials because they were the biggest and strongest girl and boy in their whole region. Then they were trained at the special sports camp where they lifted heavy weights, ate huge amounts of food and got constant injections of steroids and other musclebuilding hormones and drugs. They got tremendously big and strong and they both became champion shot-putters. And they were both very aggressive. Big, strong, aggressive athletes. The sports machine encouraged them to mate with each other so they could produce a child even bigger, stronger and more aggressive than they were. They produced Oleg. Oleg weighed 12 pounds when he was born. He was a big, healthy baby and big, healthy infant. Oleg thrived in the care of his huge parents. He was strong and aggressive. They knew he was going to be a great athlete, bigger and stronger than they were. But unfortunately, both of his parents were killed in a plane crash when Oleg was only two years old. Oleg was raised in an orphanage outside Moscow.
Almost immediately everyone at the orphanage could see that Oleg was different. He was much bigger and stronger than any of the other kids and he loved to show off his strength by lifting heavy objects and by beating up other kids. Oleg would pick up a tricycle on the playground and press it up and down several times with ease. No other kid could lift the thing off the ground. Oleg loved to walk up to another kid and punch him in the gut. He loved the feeling of his knuckles hitting the flesh of another human being. He loved watching the expression on the face of the other kid as the miserable little wimp buckled over in pain. Then he flexed his arm and watched the kid muscles in his shoulder and triceps bulge, the kid muscles that had just smashed his fist into to soft gut of the pathetic weakling. It seemed like this aggression was bred into Oleg, just like his muscles. Oleg smiled as he watched his muscles bulge under his skin. He liked being big and strong. To him, the weakling deserved to get beaten up by his strong muscles. That was just the way things were. Oleg was big and strong and Oleg could beat up anyone he wanted. And he loved doing it.
Because Oleg was so much bigger and stronger than kids his own age, the officials at the orphanage put him with kids who were much older. Even then, Oleg attacked the older kids. At least they could fight back. Oleg didn't care. He loved to fight. And he usually won.
By the time Oleg was 13 years old he was already bigger and stronger than the oldest kids in the orphanage. He stood 6 feet 2 inches tall and weighed 235 pounds, all solid muscle. The orphanage had a weight room and Oleg ruled it. They had to order extra weights because Oleg was too strong for the weights they had. Oleg said he wanted more weight and the officials just did what Oleg said. You didn't fuck around with Oleg.
A year later Oleg left the orphanage. At 14 years old he was 6'4" and weighed 275 pounds. He was so much bigger and stronger than anyone else that it wasn't even funny. He didn't pick on the kids in the orphanage anymore. He liked to go into town and get into fights with older guys, punching them out and breaking their bones. He liked the sound of bones breaking.
After he left the orphanage, Oleg joined a gym in Moscow and supported himself by working for the Russian Mafia as an enforcer. Oleg was the youngest enforcer in the mob, but he was one of the most lethal. He loved making his victims suffer before he snuffed them out. He loved watching his huge muscles bulge as they crushed the bodies of his victims like steel vises. Oleg loved his work.
Oleg kept growing and getting stronger. Besides working out twice a day in the gym, he became a master martial arts fighter, wrestler and boxer. The mob made sure Oleg had plenty of food, supplements and steroids. By the time he turned 20 years old he was 6'8" and weighed 375 pounds. By now he was the most feared enforcer of the entire mob in Moscow. He was a lethal machine and he took pleasure in his work, making his victims suffer to the extreme before he snuffed them out.. If the mob gave Oleg a hit order on you, you would suffer a fate worse than death before actually being dead. Sometimes Oleg would snuff his hits in front of the punk's girlfriend or friends. As the girlfriend looked on in horror, Oleg would rip the arms off his victim. He was so strong he could just jerk off a guy's arm like he was pulling off the leg of a turkey. Then he'd take the bloody arm and use it like a club to savagely beat the head and face of his prey until it looked like bloody pulp. Then he'd crush the guy's ribs between his huge hands like he was crushing a cardboard box. Blood would be gushing out of the hapless victim's mouth. He'd look up at the huge youth who was smashing him, pleading for mercy. But there would be none. Oleg would laugh at the little weakling's pleas and then flex his big muscles as if to say "You ain't shit compared to these, punk. They're gonna snuff you out like a bug, and they won't even have to work hard doin' it." Then, when the guy was almost dead from pain and bleeding, Oleg would place his hands on the sides of the guy's head and force them together with the brute power of his huge pecs. Instantly, the little punk's skull would be crushed like a piece of fruit by the massive muscles of Oleg's young body. Brains would spurt out of the smashed skull like shit. Oleg would smile as he watched his big hands crush the skull like paper mache'. Sometimes, instead of the skull crushing, Oleg would grab the punk's neck with his big hand and snap it like a twig. Then he'd rip the head off the body, and hand it to the punk's girlfriend. Then Oleg would smile and flex his huge bicep in front of the terrified girl. "Can't fuck with that, bitch," his eyes would say. Another hit for the mob. Oleg was the best.
Oleg's reputation spread throughout Russia and all the countries that used to be part of the Soviet Union. One person who heard about him was General Tarik, absolute ruler of Tazikistan. General Tarik ruled by fear and intimidation. His police routinely rounded up opponents and put them in Zhigrov Prison. He wanted life at the Prison to be as miserable as it could possibly be. He wanted all his countrymen to know what could happen to them if they dared to disobey him. He thought Oleg would make a perfect guard at the prison. A muscleguard. A gigantic, muscular guard who would intimidate the prisoners by his sheer physical presence. A huge physical specimen who would be given absolute freedom to do whatever he wanted to the prisoners. General Tarik smiled as he thought of it. Oleg the Muscleguard would be the symbol of the General's absolute power and supremacy. He would crush anything he wanted.
So General Tarik sent his men to Moscow and offered Oleg a huge sum of money to come to Tazikistan and be the Muscleguard at Zhigrov Prison. The job sounded great to Oleg. He would have all the food, supplements and drugs he wanted. He'd be able to work out in a huge gym with all the equipment he wanted and thousands of pounds of weights and get even bigger and stronger than he already was. And there were thousands of pathetic little prisoners just waiting to get snuffed by his big muscles. He could do whatever he wanted to them. He was the Muscleguard. He was god. All he had to do was eat, work out and fuck up as many prisoners as he wanted. This sounded like a lot of fun to Oleg. He was on the next train to Tazikistan.
As Oleg was flexing his muscles in the mirror he heard a knock on the door. He opened the door to see a little guard holding a tray with a hypodermic needle and some vials of liquid. "Your morning drugs, sir," said the guard, visibly trembling at the sight of the huge, nude musclestud standing in front of him. The guard looked to be about the same age as Oleg, 20 years old, and had an average build, but he was a shrimp compared to the giant Russian. He probably weighed about 130 pounds, which looked like nothing compared to Oleg's 400 pounds of solid muscle. Oleg was the alpha male of the prison and he ruled the guards just like he ruled the prisoners. He outweighed all the other guards by at least 250 pounds. All the other guards treated him with utmost respect because they didn't want to get on the wrong side of all that muscle.
Oleg inspected the vials to make sure they were the right drugs. Two steroids, human growth hormone and another drug that Oleg got from a secret laboratory in Moscow. He nodded his head in approval. Then he looked at the little guard and said, "OK, you know what to do. Get to work." He turned around so his huge musclebutt was facing the guard. The guard poked the syringe into the first vial and sucked out the muscle-building liquid. Then he pushed the syringe into the huge mass of muscle in Oleg's butt and injected the drug. Oleg could barely feel the needle going into his flesh. He was so big and had so much muscle in his butt that the needle was nothing to him. The guard did this four times, two injections on each globe of Oleg's massive butt. Oleg felt a rush surge through his body as the drugs entered his bloodstream, a rush of testosterone and other hormones. His cock started to harden. He felt super strong and super aggressive. He was ready to kick some ass.
When the guard finished the shots, Oleg turned around and faced him. Oleg's cock was now almost hard as the muscle-building drugs surged through his body, drugs that would make him get even bigger and stronger than he already was. The guard gasped as he looked at Oleg's huge body and his thick cock. Oleg's stiff cock was about 15 inches long and as thick as a beer can. More than foot long, big and thick, and as hard as a steel rod. It was huge and hard, just like the rest of his body. Oleg smiled at the guard's gaping stare. Everyone had the same reaction to him. They were overwhelmed by his physical superiority. He flexed his arms and looked proudly at the 27 inch mass of biceps and triceps in his upper arms. "Feel those monsters, Tarok," he said to the guard. "Those monsters are gonna have a lot of fun today. This big cock's gonna have a lot of fun too." The guard put his little fingers on Oleg's huge biceps. He squeezed as hard as he could, but he couldn't make the slightest dent in the rock-hard muscle. Then he put both of his hands around Oleg's flexing arm and even with both hands he couldn't get his fingers around even half of its huge girth. Oleg smiled with a look of sheer arrogance. "Fucking strong, Tarok. Stronger than 10 of those little chickens." Oleg grabbed Tarok's hand and placed it on his big, thick cock. "This big weapon's gonna bust through some tight chicken asses today. It's gonna have a lot of fun." Tarok felt a chill run up his spine as he thought about Oleg's huge, rock-hard cock ramming up some poor chicken's ass. He was sure glad he was a guard.
"Time for breakfast," Oleg said as he turned around and bumped the guard out of the way with his big shoulders. He put on a pair of boots and some workout shorts as the guard stood there staring at his muscles and his cock. Then he swaggered out of the room, with the guard following like a little puppy dog.
Breakfast was served outside in Oleg's gym. The prison had a huge outside yard where all the prisoners were kept during the day. The General had fenced off a large area next to the building and had installed a huge amount of exercise equipment and weights. This was Oleg's gym. The chain link fence permitted all the prisoners to see the entire gym and to see Oleg's massive body as he worked out. There were mirrors for Oleg to watch his bulging muscles as he worked them and there was a table for eating. And Oleg did a lot of eating.
As Oleg strutted through the prison door into his gym, all the prisoners immediately stopped talking and stared at the huge muscleguard. Several of them started trembling in fear. They knew the muscleguard was capable of ripping them in half any time he felt like it. And they knew many of them were going to be snuffed by Oleg's muscles today. Oleg loved to snuff the chickens. Oleg walked up to the fence and flexed his biceps. "Check 'em out, chickens," he said in Russian. "You little chickens ain't nothing compared to these monsters. These monsters are gonna fuck you up real good today. But first they gotta get fed. They gotta get fed lotsa food so they can grow even bigger and stronger so they can fuck up you pathetic little weak chickens even better." The prisoners couldn't understand any of Oleg's Russian, but they knew what he was saying. They trembled in fear.
The prisoners were puny. The people of Tazikistan were small to begin with. The tallest men were only about 5'8" tall, a full foot shorter than Oleg, and most of them were 5'6" or less. They all had dark skin, dark hair and dark eyes. The contrast between their puny, dark bodies, dark hair and dark eyes and Oleg's huge golden tan body, blond hair and blue eyes was incredible. The prisoners received two meals a day at the prison, and each meal consisted only of a watery soup and a piece of stale bread. So they were really scrawny, most of them weighing no more than 120 pounds. And they were hungry all the time.
Oleg sat down at the table for breakfast. The guards had already brought out his meal. Sitting on the table were two big steaks, cooked blood-rare, two roasted chickens, a dozen scrambled eggs, a huge bowl of rice, some potatoes and lots of fruit. The prisoners could smell the aroma of Oleg's food. There was enough food there to feed 20 prisoners for a week and Oleg was going to eat it all in one meal. There was a look of total desperation on the faces of the prisoners as Oleg sat down to eat. He smiled and flexed his arms. "Time to feed these big mothers," he said. "Then they'll smash you little chickens into fuckin' pulp. You little chickens ain't shit. You little chickens deserve to get smashed by my big muscles." Oleg let out a loud roar. All the prisoners jumped. Maybe they couldn't understand his Russian, but they could sure understand his roar. Oleg was the alpha male and he could do whatever he wanted.
Then Oleg started gobbling his food. He didn't use a knife and fork. It was much more efficient for him to tear apart the chickens with his hands and stuff the meat into his mouth. He ripped the blood-rare beef off the steaks with his teeth. He stuffed the rice and potatoes into his mouth with his hands. He wolfed down the food like an efficient eating machine. Just for fun he threw some chicken bones into the prison yard. The prisoners piled on each other, trying to grab the bones which might have a shred of meat left on them. Oleg laughed at the pathetic little prisoners. Then he took another huge bite of chicken breast, eating almost the whole breast in one big bite. Oleg ate all the food on the table. He washed the food down with milk as he ate, drinking a half gallon of milk in the process. When he finished, he let out a loud burp and patted his stomach, which was still flat and rippling with muscle even though it now contained many pounds of food. "Time to pump these muscles," he said.
That morning he was going to work out his chest. He lifted weights twice a day, hitting a different bodypart each time. He strutted over to the bench press machine and loaded 300 pounds on the bar. This was his warm up. He cranked out 15 easy reps and then started his work sets, increasing the weight with each set - 500, 600, 650, 700, 750 and finally 800 pounds for three grueling reps in his last set. When he finished, his skin was dripping with sweat. His pumped pecs were red and bulging. The huge mounds of muscle were striated with fibers and covered with veins. The cleavage between those two huge pieces of beef was a half foot deep. He flexed his pecs in the mirror and smiled.
Next he did six sets of incline dumbbell presses, increasing the poundages until he was using 300 pound dumbbells for his last set. By now his whole upper body was pumped to the max. The muscle was almost jumping out of his skin. The prisoners stood in awe as they watched the huge young muscleguard lift dumbbells that were so heavy that 10 of them, straining together, would not have been able to press what Oleg was pressing with one arm.
Then he did six sets of decline dumbbell presses using the same huge poundages as he used for the incline presses. By now his pecs were bulging out of his chest like huge balloons. But these balloons were solid muscle, shredded with fibers and covered with veins. His 75 inch chest was now pumped to at least 80 inches or rock hard muscle. His big nipples were completely erect. They pointed down at a 45 degree angle because he had so much muscle in his pecs. His lower pecs had just gotten a brutal workout with the decline presses and they pushed his nipples out proudly. Sweat covered his whole body. Rivulets of sweat dripped off his bulging pecs. Oleg was pumped to the max.
He took a big drink of water, turned to the prisoners and smiled. "Time for some chicken flyes," he said. He strutted over to the fence, opened the gate and walked out into the yard. The prisoners tried to run, but Oleg was very fast and very coordinated for a big man and he easily caught up to a group of chickens and grabbed two of them by the backs of their shirts. He sized them up, making sure there were about the same weight, about 100 pounds. They looked to be about the same age as Oleg, just out of their teens. But they were nothing compared to the huge, blond youth who was grabbing their shirts. Oleg towered over the two trembling youths like a young giant. He was a foot and a half taller and 300 pounds heavier than the puny little chickens. The big, muscular youth, who was born and bred to be huge, strong, muscular and aggressive, was going to have some fun with the pathetic, weak, little chickens. He dragged them back into the weight pen and closed the gate. The prisoners had a look of total horror on their faces.
"You little chickens are gonna make yourselves useful," said Oleg. With a chicken in each hand, he lay down on a bench with his back on the bench. He extended his arms out, still holding on to the prisoners. He looked over at his right arm and the helpless chicken. He had more muscle in that one huge arm than the little chicken had in his whole body. Oleg smiled with a look of total superiority. He turned his face back to look straight up. Then he raised his arms up, bringing them together like he was doing dumbbell flyes, with the chickens as the dumbbells. The overwhelming force of his muscles smashed the two chickens into each other with incredible speed. Oleg's eyes lit up as he saw the bodies crashing together. The chickens cried out in pain but Oleg just laughed. He liked watching his muscles smash other human flesh. He lowered his arms and did it again. "Smash!" Oleg's huge muscles smashed the two chickens into each other like they were two pillows. He thought he heard some bones cracking. Big bruises and welts sprang out on their bodies. Oleg started to feel a nice pump in his pecs. Chicken flyes were good for bringing out the definition in his huge pecs. This was one of his favorite exercises. He did rep after rep, smashing the bodies of the two chickens together again and again until he had finished 15 reps. The chickens only weighed about 100 pounds, so this was easy for Oleg. It was so easy that he could get up lots of speed in his arms as he smashed the two bodies together. He liked watching the bodies smash together. He liked watching the faces of the chickens, contorted with fear and pain. He liked hearing their cries as the pain raced through their pathetic little bodies. He liked to smash chickens with his big muscles.
When he finished, Oleg dropped the chickens on the ground and flexed his pecs. "Nice pump," he said as he looked at the shredded, bulging muscle in the mirror. While he was flexing, one of the chickens tried to crawl away from the bench. Oleg looked down and laughed. He walked over to the crawling chicken and picked him up so he was standing. Then, with a burst of incredible power, he threw a devastating karate chop at the chicken's thigh, immediately shattering the bone. Then he took his other hand and smashed it into the other thigh, shattering that bone too. Then he grabbed the chicken's right arm and with a twist of his huge wrists, snapped the bone in his upper arm like it was a twig. The chicken howled in pain but Oleg just smiled. He grabbed the other arm and snapped it too. Then he picked up the chicken like a sack of potatoes and threw him back over to the workout bench. "You're just my fuckin' weight, chicken. You ain't goin' nowhere. You don't need arms and legs to be my weight. You ain't shit."
He walked over to the other chicken, who was lying on his back on the other side of the bench, trembling in fear. "Good, chicken," he said, smiling at the puny prisoner. Then he lifted his huge right foot high off the ground and stomped his boot into the chicken's crotch with all the power of his 400 pound body and legs that could squat with 1,000 pounds. The incredible force of Oleg's boot completely crushed the chicken's cock, smashed his balls and pulverized the bones of his pelvis. "Good chickens get fucked up too," he said as he watched the little youth writhe in abject pain.
He grabbed the backs of the shirts of the two chickens, lay down on the bench and started his second set of chicken flyes. He smashed the two helpless weaklings into each other another 15 times. He loved hearing the sound of the bodies hitting each other and the sounds of the chickens crying in pain. He loved seeing his huge pecs and arms flex as they easily lifted the 100 pound living dumbbells and smashed them together. The more he heard and saw the harder he smashed. The sights and sounds of the smashing sent extra adrenaline and testosterone surging though his big body, making him even more aggressive. By the end of his set, the two chickens looked like bloody pulps.
When he finished his set, he kept holding on to backs of their shirts and sat up on the bench. "You're wasted," he said looking at the miserable little chickens, who were so battered and bloody they were almost not recognizable as human beings. "You served your purpose. I need some fresh meat." At that, he held the two little chickens so they were facing each other, with his huge hands on their backs. Then he forced his arms together, pressing in on their chests. "Crack crack crack crack crack crack!" Instantly all the bones in their ribs were broken by the enormous force of Oleg's muscles. His hands moved closer and closer together like a steel vise until they were only about three inches apart. Oleg had totally smashed the ribcages of the two chickens. Their lungs were now completely collapsed. Blood gushed out of their mouths. Oleg smiled as he looked at his bulging muscles. He liked the look of the rippling muscle as it crushed anything in its way. Smashing the ribs of these two little chickens was child's play for Oleg's big muscles. They were having a lot of fun.
The chickens were now almost dead. Oleg released his iron grip and grabbed them by the necks. Then he squeezed the thick fingers on his huge hands. The muscles in his rippling forearms bulged. His 22 inch forearms looked like big bowling pins and the muscles writhed like snakes. Veins were everywhere under his skin. He squeezed their scrawny necks until his hands were almost completely closed. Their little necks were completely crushed by the overwhelming strength of Oleg's fingers. With his last bit of life, one of the chickens looked over at Oleg's huge muscles that were crushing him to death and then looked into Oleg's blue eyes with a look that begged for mercy. But Oleg didn't know the word mercy. The huge, blond youth was crushing the life out of him and having fun doing it. Oleg smiled, as if answering the unspoken plea. Then he twisted his wrist, snapping the neck bone of the little chicken like he was snapping a twig on a tree. The chicken's eyes glazed over in death. Then Oleg did the same thing to the other chicken. The chickens were snuffed.
Oleg grabbed them by their shirts, one in each hand. He easily lifted the two snuffed chickens over his head. He walked around the weight pen pressing the dead chickens overhead and taunting the prisoners who were watching in horror from outside the fence. His delts were as big as bowling balls and they were shredded with solid muscle. The fibers in the huge muscles twitched under his thin, tan skin as he pressed the dead chickens up and down like feathers. The striations in the three heads of his delts stood out in bold relief as the big muscles did their light work. "You fuckin' chickens ain't shit," he said "My big muscles can smash you little chickens so easy they don't even have to try hard. My big muscles love to fuck up you little losers. You little weakling chickens deserve to get smashed by my big muscles." Oleg flexed his arms, shook the dead chickens in his hands, and laughed at the staring prisoners. Then he walked over to a big garbage dumpster at the side of the weight pit and tossed the bodies of the two dead chickens into it. These were the first two bodies of the day that Oleg would toss into the dumpster. There would be many more. The only garbage that went into that dumpster was the bodies of snuffed chickens. And Oleg filled it with lots of garbage every day.
Oleg took another drink of water and looked out at the chickens. "Need heavier weights," he said as he flexed his pecs and watched the striated muscle bulge out at his command. He opened the gate and ran out into the prison yard, with the chickens running in all directions trying to get away from the huge Muscleguard. As always, it was futile. Oleg quickly caught up to a group of chickens and grabbed the two biggest ones. They were older, probably about 30 years old. They were about 5' 6" tall and looked like they weighed about 125 pounds each. Even though they were the biggest chickens in the group, they looked puny next to Oleg's hulking body, a body that was more than a foot taller and 275 pounds heavier than the pathetic chickens.
Oleg dragged the chickens back to the weight pen and got ready to do his last three sets of chicken flyes. The first two chickens were just his warm-up weight. These were his work weight chickens, even though they were still light for his superstrong pecs. The chicken flyes were a "finishing" exercise, meant to bring out shape and definition in his huge pecs. He had already exhausted the muscle with the heavy benches and dumbbell presses. Now he was sculpting it. Sculpting it to perfection. Oleg's muscles were not only incredibly massive but also incredibly perfect. He was a perfect physical specimen. Huge, defined muscles. A drop-dead good looking face. A beautiful muscular youth. And an attitude that said "I'm a fuckin' stud and I can fuck up anything I fuckin' want. You chickens are here to give me pleasure." So two more chickens were going to sacrifice their lives so Oleg's muscles could get more perfect. That was just the natural order of things. Oleg was strong and the chickens were weak. The strong always pick on the weak. And the strong always win.
Oleg did three more sets, 10 reps each, of chicken flyes using the 125 pound chickens as his dumbbells. During the first set, one of the chickens started yelling and screaming as Oleg smashed his body into the body of the other chicken. Oleg was annoyed. At the end of the set, he placed the chicken on his back one the ground. Then he smashed his big fist into the poor guy's face with all of the enormous power of his huge delt, pec and arm muscles. Oleg's hard knuckles bashed though the chicken's nose and teeth, leaving a bloody pulp where his face used to be. Then he raised his fist again and smashed it into the guy's little chest. The incredible force of Oleg's fist smashed through the chicken's rib cage, breaking all the bones in its way and collapsing the pathetic little chicken's lungs. The chicken looked at the huge youth who was smashing him with one arm with a look of total horror. Now he couldn't cry if he wanted to. He could barely breathe and his face was smashed in. Oleg smiled, grabbed the chicken's shirt and got ready for his second set.
Oleg finished his three sets of chicken flyes. He stood up and looked approvingly at his pecs in the mirror. They were totally shredded and bulged out from his chest like the halves of two bowling balls. They were perfect. Oleg smiled as he looked at his perfect muscles. Then he looked down at the two chickens who had been his weights. By now, both of the chickens were bloody and battered from smashing into each other. The chicken who was stupid enough to yell was almost dead, since he could hardly breathe. Oleg grabbed the chicken and pulled him up to his feet. Then he wrapped his 27 inch arms around the chicken's chest and started squeezing. Immediately all the ribs broke under the overwhelming force of Oleg's squeeze. The broken bones punched through the lungs, collapsing the lungs into nothing. Oleg squeezed so hard that the poor chicken's chest was crushed down to the size of his waist. By now, the chicken was out cold. It was only moments until his brain would be dead. Oleg grabbed his body, pressed it overhead a couple of times for the all the other chickens to see, and then tossed it into the dumpster.
Then he turned to the other chicken, who was lying on the ground watching in horror as Oleg snuffed his friend. Oleg stood over the pathetic little man and flexed his huge pecs. "You wanna feel their power, wimp?" Oleg said. "Yeah I bet you do since you helped 'em get big and pumped like this." Oleg looked down at his pecs and flexed the huge muscles one at a time, first the right and then the left. He had perfect muscle control. At every command of their youthful master, the huge globes of muscle bulged and flexed, with shredded fibers pushing out under his paper thin skin. The cleavage between the huge mounds of muscle was almost six inches deep.
Oleg pulled the chicken to his feet. The chicken's head was just at the level of Oleg's throbbing pecs. "Feel the power, wimp," said Oleg as he grabbed the back of the chicken's head with his right hand and pushed his face into the cleavage between the huge pecs. His skin was hot and sweaty. It felt warm and incredibly hard to the cheeks of the little chicken. The nose and face of the little chicken was buried deep within the cleavage between Oleg's huge pecs. Then, while pressing in on the head with his hand, he flexed his pecs. The giant rock-hard globes of muscle bulged. As they bulged, they pushed closer together, crushing anything in their way. They crushed nose and the bones in the chicken's face like toothpicks. Oleg liked the sound of the bones breaking. He relaxed his pecs and pulled out the chicken's head to inspect. The nose and jaw were smashed and the cheeks were gone. The chicken looked at Oleg's huge pecs, the bulging muscles that had just crushed his face, with a look of total awe and fear. Tears were in his eyes. Oleg didn't care. He looked down at his pecs and smiled as he saw the results of their enormous power. Then he looked again at the chicken's head. Time for some real bone crunching. Oleg took his hand and forced the chicken's forehead between his pecs. Then he flexed the hot, pumped muscle. The huge, rock-hard muscles bulged at their young master's command and smashed though the bone of the chicken's forehead, crushing his skull like a grape. Oleg liked the feeling of his huge muscles crushing the bone. He liked the sound of the punk's bones smashing under the enormous force of his flexing pecs. Oleg's cock was getting stiff under his workout shorts as his huge muscles smashed the skull of the pathetic wimp. Instantly the punk was dead, snuffed by the huge pec muscles that his miserable little body had helped define. Oleg grabbed the punk's neck and snapped it with one twist of his wrist. Then he tossed the carcass into the dumpster with one hand.
By now his cock was rock hard. He stripped off his workout shorts and stood there buck naked, with nothing on except his boots. His thick 14 inch cock stood up almost vertically. He looked out at the prisoners with a lustful glint in his blue eyes. "Time for a fuck," he said.
He immediately spied a good-looking young chicken who was staring at his muscles from the other side of the fence. The kid had just arrived at the prison the night before. He was 18 years old, with a fresh face and a nice little body. Oleg could see he had a nice round butt. The chicken was staring at Oleg's huge body. He had never seen such a huge, muscular person in his life. He had watched in disbelief as Oleg lifted weights so heavy it was beyond imagination and then used his huge muscles to smash the four other prisoners like they were nothing. Oleg was so big and strong. And he couldn't believe Oleg looked so young. Oleg looked like a god. The kid's cock had gotten hard, showing a little bulge under his prison clothes. He was turned on by the huge, young Muscleguard. Oleg had great vision. He saw the little bulge under the youth's pants. He liked the kid's fresh face and round butt. Oleg knew who his fuck toy was going to be.
He made eye contact with the youth and wrapped his fingers around his big, stiff cock. "I'm gonna fuck you, wimp," he mouthed, not speaking the words but communicating very well with the good-looking kid. The youth got a look of absolute horror on his face as he realized what Oleg was going to do. Oleg laughed. The youth turned away from the fence and started running through the prison yard, trying to get as far away from this huge man as possible. But there was no escape from the Muscleguard. Oleg ran up to the gate, opened it, and ran after the young chicken. He was so much taller than the other prisoners he had no trouble keeping his eyes on his prey. He ran through the other prisoners like they were little sticks being knocked over by a Mack truck. He ran over at least 30 prisoners on his way to grabbing his fuck toy. His huge cock swayed back and forth as his gigantic legs powered his 400 pounds of muscle through the crowded prison yard. Several of the chickens ended up with broken bones as Oleg came crashing through. Oleg didn't care. He wanted a fuck, and any chickens in his way were gonna get crushed by his huge body. If they got too injured by his oak-tree legs, he'd just come back later and snuff 'em.
Oleg easily caught up with the young chicken and grabbed him by the shirt. Then he ripped off the guy's clothes, tearing the fabric like it was nothing. "I wanna fuck," he yelled as he grabbed the soft flesh of the naked youth with his big hands and lifted him over his head. He strode through the prison yard like a huge warrior with his helpless prey. He was totally naked except for his boots. His big, thick, hard cock proudly pointed upwards as he strutted past the prisoners, holding up his fuck toy. Oleg carried the terrified chicken back into his weight pen and closed the gate. His cock was still as stiff as a steel rod.
Oleg dropped the chicken to his feet in front of the mirror. Then he stood facing the mirror next to the little prisoner. The contrast between their bodies was incredible. At six feet eight inches tall and 400 pounds of rock hard muscle, Oleg completely dwarfed the little chicken who weighed no more than 100 pounds at 5 feet 2 inches tall. Oleg grabbed the chicken's ass. "You got a sweet little ass, chicken," he said. "My big cock's gonna love that tight little virgin ass."
Oleg flexed his thighs. His huge quads sprang to attention, rippling with mass and cuts. Each of his 37 inch thighs was bigger than the little chicken's chest. He had way more muscle in one of his thighs than the chicken had in his whole body. Come to think of it, Oleg had way more muscle in one of his huge 27 inch arms than the chicken had in his whole body. Oleg looked at his flexing thighs and smiled. He liked the way his muscles looked, especially when he was standing next to a little wimp who was nothing compared to him. He spun the chicken around so he was facing him and grabbed the chicken's hands. Then he placed the hands on his thighs. "Feel a real man's muscle, wimp," he said. The young chicken ran his fingers over the huge, flexed muscles. He couldn't believe how big and hard Oleg's quads were. His little cock started to harden as he felt the young giant's huge muscles. Oleg looked down and smiled as he saw the effect his body was having on the little wimp. The little chicken couldn't help himself as his little five inch cock got harder and harder. He was getting turned on by Oleg's body even though he knew that body was going to fuck him and then kill him within a matter of minutes.
Oleg grabbed the hair on the back of the chicken's head and pushed his face into his thick, hard 15 inch cock. "Lick it," he ordered. The chicken couldn't understand Oleg's Russian, but he knew what the giant youth wanted him to do. He started licking Oleg's huge weapon. Oleg kept hold of the chicken's head and moved him up and down over his huge cock. His cock started twitching with pleasure as the chicken's tongue caressed it. Then he lowered the chicken's head and jammed his face into his crotch. The young chicken was overwhelmed by the smell of Oleg's crotch sweat, all the sweat that had been produced by his huge body during his brutal workout. He had never smelled sweat like that before. The sweat of a total jock. Strong, masculine, manly sweat. The sweat of a musclegod. He started licking Oleg's huge balls, balls that were the size of big lemons. Oleg groaned with pleasure as he felt the chicken's little tongue on his tender balls. By now, both Oleg's 15 inch, thick-as-a-beer-can cock and the young chicken's skinny little 5 inch cock were totally hard. Oleg's cock was twitching with pleasure. "I wanna fuck," yelled Oleg.
Instantly, he jerked the chicken's head away from his crotch. He grabbed a bottle of baby oil and poured the oil all over his huge, throbbing cock. Then he poured the oil on the chicken's ass and rammed his thick middle finger up that tight little ass. The chicken cried out in pain as Oleg's finger ripped though his sphincter muscles. But that pain would be nothing compared with what was to come. Oleg wasn't using the oil to make the fuck easier for the chicken. His cock was so big and thick nothing could do that. And Oleg didn't give a shit how the chicken felt. Oleg was using the oil for his own pleasure. He was lubricating his cock and the chicken's ass so his fuck would be pure pleasure. All of Oleg's fucks were pure pleasure. Pleasure for Oleg, that is.
He wrapped his hand around his cock and rubbed it up and down a couple of times, feeling the sensations of his hand against the hardness of his huge cock, lubricated by the oil. His cock was throbbing. It wanted to fuck and it wanted to fuck now. Oleg stood behind the little chicken and wrapped his left arm around the wimp's puny chest. Then with his right hand he grabbed his cock and guided it to just the right place at the chicken's tight ass crack, just barely touching the soft flesh of the chicken's round butt. Then, with one incredibly powerful thrust of his hips, he rammed his cock all the way into the chicken's ass, forcing all 15 inches of steel hard, thick cock up into the chicken's little body. The little chicken shrieked in pain. Not only were his ass muscles ripped to shreds by Oleg's huge cock, but his intestines were shredded as well as Oleg's 15 inches of rock-hard musclecock rammed themselves up into the chicken's guts. Oleg's cock just pushed the chicken's organs out of the way as it rammed into his body. Oleg's cock did what it wanted, just like its young master.
Oleg grabbed the chicken by the chest and raised him up and down on his cock. He watched his image in the mirror as his huge muscles lifted the little 100 pound chicken up and down on his cock like it was nothing. He felt the muscles of the chicken's ass try to tighten around the head of his cock as he lifted the ass up, but he knew his cock was too big and hard for those little muscles to resist when he forced the big weapon in again. After a few minutes of this, he rammed his cock all the way in and let go with his hands, except that he kept his right hand on the chicken's shoulder just to keep it steady. Then he walked over to the fence with the little chicken held up just by his huge cock rammed up in his ass. "Look, my cock is stronger than any of you wimps," he laughed, taunting the prisoners who were staring at his incredibly muscular body and the little prisoner who was impaled by Oleg's huge weapon, crying in pain. "It can lift your pathetic little bodies like a feather." He twitched his cock and the little chicken bounced up and down. Several prisoners' mouth's dropped open. Oleg's cock was as strong as his other muscles! Oleg laughed.
Well, enough of this foreplay, thought Oleg. His cock was so aroused it wanted to fuck right then. Oleg lifted the chicken off his cock and threw him 20 feet across the weight pen to the mat. He walked over to the mat and fell down on top of the little chicken, completely covering the chicken's little body with his mass of muscle. He rammed his cock into the chicken's little ass and started pumping with fury. In and out, in and out, thrust after thrust of enormous power, the power of Oleg's huge muscles forcing his thick cock in and out of the chicken's little ass like a pile driver. Oleg liked the feeling of the chicken's firm round ass hitting his crotch each time he pounded his dick into the tight crack. He liked pounding firm round asses. The chicken was in so much pain he started to pass out. Oleg slapped him in the face to wake him up. With each slap, the kid's ass tightened, giving even more pleasure to Oleg's cock. So Oleg kept slapping and kept fucking. The little chicken was giving Oleg a lot of pleasure, and that was all that mattered to Oleg.
Finally, when the chicken's face was raw and bleeding from all the hard slaps, Oleg's cock was aroused to the max. He let out a loud "Yeah!" and his cock exploded, gushing spurt after spurt of pure white jism into the guts of the little chicken. Spasms of pleasure surged through Oleg's cock and balls. He felt like such a stud as his huge body fucked the shit out of the helpless little wimp. He felt like he was king of the world. Oleg came for over a minute, filling the insides of the little chicken with huge amounts of cum. When he finished his incredible orgasm, he left his cock in the chicken's ass and laid on the chicken's little body. His 400 pounds of muscle was sweaty and hard. "Nice fuck," he said to the chicken. Then he grabbed the youth's neck and snapped it like a twig. A convulsion went through the chicken's body and his ass muscles tightened one more time. "Ummm, feels good," murmured Oleg.
After a few minutes, Oleg got up and tossed the chicken into the dumpster. He stood in the weight pen thinking about what he wanted to do next. After all, it was only ten in the morning.
THE END