BODY GUARDS  - Chapter 10

By:  JOHN


Following Antonio's lead, Mark and the new American M3, George, and 
his handler, Patrick, made their way toward the lab area of the villa 
complex. The place seemed all but deserted. Antonio moved with 
greater speed as they traveled further and further through the 
labyrinth of cavernous basement hallways. Mark's initial fears gave 
way to the tantalizing vision that the new M4 muscle covering 
Antonio's perfectly muscled body offered.  The harsh lighting bathed 
Antonio with muscle defining contouring etched onto his stunning 
frame. Even the `painted on' muscle-shirt and fatigue shorts could 
not diminish the vastness of Antonio's muscle.

Finally they arrived in the corridor for which Antonio had been 
searching. As the four rounded the last corner, a door suddenly swung 
open behind them. In an instant, Patrick lay dead on the floor, his 
back snapped in half over the knee of the M3 level Coven guard who 
caught them off-guard. George responded with the instincts of a well-
trained soldier by throwing his own 420-pound muscle mass across the 
equally proportioned Coven body sending them both back through the 
doorway from which the deadly enemy had just emerged.

George called for the Antonio and Mark to get on with their 
assignment and to leave this unexpected intruder to him. Antonio 
signaled for Mark to stay behind to help George while he scouted 
ahead but Mark wouldn't hear of leaving his lover alone. Dust 
billowed through the half destroyed door as the solid muscle of 
George and his assailant crashed through one of the hallway walls 
behind them in their struggle. George was angry at not having been 
able to protect his handler and an angry American M3 was not what the 
Coven agent wanted to have to face.

The two massively muscled men spilled into one of the armory rooms of 
the villa. This one was filled with an array of deadly knives and 
swords. The sharp stainless steel of the multitude of precision 
blades reflected in the swinging light of the room like cold jewels.

As he sprung to his feet, George got his first good look at his 
opponent. The man was young, probably not much more than his early 
twenties. His sandy hair was tied back in a ponytail. The face was 
that of a gorgeous youth in his prime and each ear lobe sparkled as 
the diamond studs secured to each one twinkled in the sharp light. 
The muscle smoldering below his glowing, youthful skin seemed almost 
too glorious for a face as young and boyishly perfect as his. A 
parade of fortifying veining meandered over the outer and upper 
flanks of his muscle corded delts and pecs. They turned to rope size 
as they drifted over the bouldered peaks of his youthful 28" biceps.

"You won't succeed!" The young man challenged George in perfect 
English. "We will overwhelm you and I will take great pride in making 
you and your dead partner my first kills! Then my cock will feast on 
your ass and the others will know the power of Marion, your 
conqueror!"

Either he came from England or had been educated there. In either 
event, George understood and accepted the challenge. The young man 
stood in a semi-crouched position about ten feet directly in front of 
George. Marion's biceps, triceps, traps, delts and pecs became 
chiseled lines of rock as he readied himself for the battle. The 
veining grew ever more pronounced as he tensed and tightened every 
tantalizing muscle. Each pec was as thick as two major city phone 
books and promised a power of immense proportions. The position of 
his naked torso pushed the plated arcs of his individually inscribed 
abs further into shadow until the core of his posing-trunk covered 
groin was absorbed in darkness.

George, undaunted, shifted into the same pose, matching the glorious 
beauty of the youth muscle for muscle. He cast aside the last 
remnants of his shirt that had been all but destroyed when they 
crashed through the wall. His 70" upper torso swelled with unbridled 
power as his pecs and lats became ripped with insane density. 
George's own 32" waist became equally invisible save for the growing 
mound of his expanding cock still trapped in his overly tight 
fatigues. The beauty of the youthful Marion was hard to resist. But 
the memory of what he had just done to Patrick kept creeping back 
into George's mind.

Then, with amazing swiftness, two serrated knives with blades as long 
as George's raging 11" cock appeared as if from nowhere in the hands 
of the captivatingly handsome youth. As the cock-hardened shattered 
fabric of his fatigues fell around his ankles, George realized that 
Marion may still be young, but he had apparently been well trained. 
The striking youth shifted slightly as he tightened his grasp around 
the handles of the two wide knives. His traps and delts mountained 
into wrappings of highly ridged muscle The fully blossomed muscles of 
his thigh-thick forearms rolled under the pronounced network of 
cabled veins like great pythons slithering over one another.

Noting the fat, pointing head of George's expansive cock poking out 
from beyond the shadow of the mammoth muscle of the American's 
precipitous pecs, Marion smiled back at the affect of his painfully 
beautiful body on his enemy. He carefully eyed his opponent. The 
American was about ten years older and as well muscled as he was. 
Marion was particularly entranced by George's impressive lat spread. 
Even from the front with his overwhelmingly massive pecs and coiled 
triceps blocking most of the view, the winged outer flanks of 
George's lats still managed to offer an impressive presence. Several 
wrist-thick cords of bundling muscle waved around the tortoise-
shelled surface of George's amazing back meat.

As Marion's eyes consumed the magnificence of the muscle power he 
faced, his passion driven young cock stirred awake. The rear triangle 
of the tiny shimmering purple thong fabric stretching across his 
undulating ass muscles began to be drawn into the vertical cleft 
separating the two mountainous cheeks as his own cock continued to 
swell. Marion's sense of discomfort grew along with his cock as the 
minuscule posers he had been wearing during his interrupted morning 
self-admiration routine were pulled away from his staggeringly small 
waist.

By now, Antonio and Mark had made it to the same glass wall through 
which Wells and Klein had seen Ryan One several days ago. Ryan One 
was still in the room secured to the great cum-milking equipment. It 
seemed almost impossible that his small body could hold his enormous 
30 pound, 26" long by 5" diameter cock so stiffly upward from his 
groin. Each testicle was about the size of a large honeydew melon. 
The size and state of his manhood equipment meant that he, as it had 
with his brothers, was in a state of supreme arousal. During these 
periods, he was capable of multiple orgasms each hour yielding up to 
a gallon of cum an hour. They had been known to ejaculate as much as 
6 gallons in one day. 

These periods lasted for about a week and required an astounding 
amount of protein and water intake. Ultimately, physical exhaustion 
would force him into a period of fitful sleeps and his cock and balls 
would shrink to about ¼ their maximum size. It would be several weeks 
before Ryan One would be ready to be `milked' again but, during this 
period of arousal, he could provide enough raw, deadly cum to feed a 
small army of handlers who, in turn, could provide a couple of 
hundred muscle-enhancing charges to the various M-level soldiers.

A large clear tube lead from the glass suction cylinder covering Ryan 
One's gargantuan cock head. Even from outside the room, Antonio and 
Mark could see the hot cum oozing through the tube and into the 
waiting vessels inside a metal cooler. The cum would be collected in 
them and then quickly frozen and processed into the various M-levels 
for handler feeding. Theoretically, no one other than an M6 level 
handler could ingest unprocessed Ryan cum. To date there were no 
known M6 level handlers identified. M5 handlers were exceptionally 
rare and extremely valuable. The only known man with enough DNA 
triggers to possibly become an M5 in the American troop was Hong Tu, 
but he had been taken or killed by Weir in Bolivia several weeks ago.

Standing near the cooler, completely naked, was Weir himself. There 
was a small oriental man with him but it was Weir that caught the 
attention of both Antonio and Mark. Both knew the man well: Antonio 
as a former member of Weir's Coven and Mark as Weir's former American 
handler. But the Weir in the room in front of them now was nowhere 
near the man they had known. This man possessed a body as vastly 
muscled as the one that now belonged to Antonio. It was immediately 
obvious that Weir had taken himself to the M4 level.

Weir and his Asian friend seemed intently focused on shutting down 
the complex machinery servicing Ryan One, probably in response to the 
invasion attack. They worked at a feverish pace to cap the endless 
flow of cum and to set the remote controls to protect the precious 
treasure of cum within the vessels in the cooler. A clear plastic 
drum stood ready to be connected to the tubing extending from Ryan 
One's cock so that his unstoppable ejaculation had a place to deposit 
the hot white seminal fluid.

Weir's astounding body flowed with a breathtaking amount of god-like 
muscle as he twisted and flexed through the various exercises 
involved in the disconnection tasks. The gargantuan scale of each 
muscle flashed into fully realized view as he moved and shifted 
around the equipment. The numbing battle between his 34" upper arm 
muscles and his melon-thick pecs as they rubbed against each other 
was displaced by the image of the writhing coils of his triceps as 
they were forced to stand out a full head-thickness from the cavity 
of their horseshoe center by the truck-tire unfurling of his multiply-
lined lats blanketing his endless upper back.

Both Antonio and Mark soon found themselves sporting equally aroused 
cocks as their former commander continued with his muscle sculpting 
activity on the other side of the bullet-proof glass separating them. 
Their painfully hard erections forced them to discard their lower 
clothing and, in the process, Antonio also shed his sweat-soaked 
shirt.

In the past two days, Antonio's body had moved from magnificent to 
breathlessly stunning with the new 70 pounds of M4 level muscle 
pushing his skin to nothing more than an explosively thin coloring 
sheathing over his fibrously dense musculature. Ten new inches of 
petrified muscle had been added to the vastness of his pecs and upper 
back. These most-pronounced pectoral features that had first caught 
Mark's attention were now nothing short of world-class muscle-
wonders. The striated belly of each man-tit stood out a solid ten 
inches from their deeply crevassed lined impact into the upper 
abdominal ribcage. Only the reflecting tip of Antonio's pencil-thick 
nipples showed from under the massive cantilever of mooned pec meat 
heaving on his hot breast.

The 82" of staggering upper torso meat was further complemented by 
the 31" of crystallized muscle clinging to each upper arm. The sheer 
scale of his arm mass kept his extraordinary biceps curvaceously full-
bellied and heavily split even when fully extended and relaxed. The 
canyon center of Antonio's triceps was deep enough to house a small 
Pueblo village.

All of this spectacular meat was carried on a tapering column of 
plated abdominal, fingered obliques and lined lower back muscle to 
Antonio's tightly packed 31" waistband. His newly reinforced cock 
stood powerfully poled straight out from the triangled muscle of his 
lower front groin extending forward to the fist-sized cock head 14" 
away. Mark knew that Antonio's fully excited cock was as powerfully 
structured as it looked with its delightful web of veining making it 
appear like a tanned marble sculpture supporting the heavy weight of 
the two apple-large testicles.

The swell of Antonio's stratified glutes tied his preposterously 
small waist to the 45" columned muscle etched onto his upper legs and 
the 28" swell of calf meat welded onto his lower legs. The scale of 
the 485 pounds of pure meat sculpted onto Antonio's flawless body was 
even more exaggerated by his compact 5'-9" height making every muscle 
appear all the more unbelievably bountiful. The overall presence of 
his aroused, naked body nearly made Mark forget the danger and 
immediacy of their assignment. Mark's own19" of handler-scaled cock 
meat was frozen into mounted place as his eyes drifted longingly over 
the exposed grandeur of Antonio's readied body.

Antonio's form became a shredded vision of striated splendor as he 
tensed every immense muscle for his assault. Stepping back against 
the adjacent wall of the corridor, he launched himself as a human 
battering ram into the glass and steel wall separating them from 
Weir, Ryan One and the Asian. Weir's body spun in readied response to 
the sound of the shattering wall crashing apart under the pressure of 
Antonio's infinitely more powerful muscle.

Down the hall and in the weaponry room, George held his ground as the 
gorgeous young Coven member rushed toward him. The two knives sliced 
through the air in the controlled grip of the handsome younger man. 
George twisted back pulling his left shoulder and arm away as the 
nearby blade sailed a fraction of an inch past the outer edge of his 
extended left pec where his arm had been and down toward his oblique-
lined hip. He crunched down on all his left side muscle turning it to 
the diamond-hard brilliance for which it had been constructed. 
Bringing his striated arm forward, George trapped the deadly blade 
between his obliques, elbow and bicep.

A sensation of pain shot through his upper left hip as the leading 
edge of the flailing knife blade cut through the surface of his 
stiffly muscled side. He could feel its penetration into the outer 
fibers and then, as hoped, the density of George's inhuman muscle 
forbade further invasion. Marion's hand and forearm were brought to a 
jarring halt as rock-hard muscle engulfed the razor end of the knife. 
Marion's right arm, shoulder and pec rippled with waves of stupefying 
musculature as he tried to force the blade into the forbidding 
petrified tissue of his opponent's side.

George twisted his body inward, his brilliantly hard cock scraping 
across Marion's lower abs leaving a moist line of clear precum as its 
mark as he moved. In the process, the torque applied to the hardened 
steel trapped by George's tremendous clasping muscle mass sheared the 
blade from the handle leaving Marion holding a useless piece of 
gripping metal in his hand. George moved his chiseled arm away from 
his side letting the splintered blade fall to the floor at his feet. 
A quick glance confirmed that the power of his muscle meat had left 
him with only with a small dribble of blood flowing from a 
superficial wound.

As George spun his mass back in the direction of the youthful 
assailant, he re-tensed his front torso muscles and arms. Bringing 
the full mass of both arms in front of his sharpened pecs, he hit the 
front side of Marion's unprepared pecs with the power of two cold 
steel posts. The handsome face filled with shocked surprise as his 
body was ripped from the floor by the impact and sent sailing back 
out through the gaping hole in the wall, across the corridor and into 
the opposite hallway wall. Plaster and studs became rubble as 
Marion's tightening musculature overwhelmed the wall.

Marion landed hard on the floor of the mechanical room. Sparks 
erupted from one of the adjacent electric panels nearby. Marion found 
himself in the middle of the floor between a web of cast-iron 
plumbing piping and the main electric service panels. The second 
knife was still in his left hand and, other than some slight pain 
from the impact, he seemed to be OK. The young man immediately sprung 
to his feet. With a quick glance, he reached over with his free right 
hand and took hold of a four-inch diameter black iron pipe.

Marion's arm became stone solid as, with a great growl, he tore a 
section of the pipe away. The smell of sewer gas filled the room 
along with the back surge of the water in the pipe. Since it was a 
storm sewer pipe, there was enough water to drench Marion's 
astounding body with water-soaked brilliance and to create a large 
ponding of water on the equipment room floor but then the flow 
stopped. Armed with the one knife and the section of pipe, Marion met 
George's moving mountain-of-muscle as they both stepped back into the 
central hallway simultaneously.

"We have come to get Ryan One, Commander." Antonio announced to Weir.

"So, you have joined the enemy!" Weir laughed back noting the 
expanded muscularity of his former ally. "Obviously they have given 
you the promise of greater muscle. I would have, too, in due time…
but, then again, you have always been somewhat impatient. Now, I 
suppose you want Ryan One so that you can have the precious cum you 
need to sustain your new-gained body. Well, I hope you won't mind if 
I choose not to honor your selfish request."

The two vastly muscled creations eyes each other's enhanced bodies 
carefully as the dialogue continued. They taunted one another's 
intents as they assessed the powers and potential weaknesses of their 
opponent. Mark crossed into the room and move up close to Antonio's 
intensely flexed body, his 19" cock pounded with ever hardening 
arousal at the sight of his massively muscled naked lover and equally 
muscled former leader poised for mortal battle.

"So, you have joined forces with my former concubine." Weir 
assailed. "Your new cock looks good on you, Mark. And, it seems to 
still like what it sees. Not bad, huh?"

Weir, with taunting arrogance, pushed his body through a quick series 
of staggeringly powerful muscle poses while never taking his eyes off 
of his two challengers. He smiled with knowing pride as he permitted 
them to feast on his 78" chest and pecs. Weir rolled his abs with 
stupefying control displaying each pair of shredded plates and then 
twisted slightly onto one tightly crafted side bringing out the dense 
fingering of his ridged obliques clutching his 32" waist together. 
His phenomenal delts rose up like water polished mountain boulders 
peaking above the level of his ears as he offered them the 
accomplishment of his masterful 34" biceps and triceps.

While there was no doubt that Weir's entire body was dangerously 
muscled, the size and chiseled perfection of his arms categorized 
them as potential weapons of mass destruction. The spring-coiled 
triceps were as wide as a man's waist and as hard as a marble statue. 
The multiple peaks of Weir's biceps climbed so high as to tower well 
above his snow-capped delts and reached clear up to his clenched 
fists. Two great cables of veins danced along the highest peak adding 
an additional ½" of height and demonstrating the impossible density 
of the meat upon which they rode. Conscious of the effect, Weir let 
the joints of his curled fingers stroke the pinnacle mass of each 
immense bicep.

"Enjoy the view." Weir smirked to Mark as he moved into a final pose 
of crunched readiness. "Because, after I am finished with your 
Italian muscle-whore, this muscle will reclaim you as its cock-
feeding servant!"

That was all Antonio needed to hear. His staggering body shifted to 
diamond hardness as every striation of every magnificent muscle 
crossed into view. He dove for Weir's feet before the arrogant 
Commander had had a chance to react. Antonio's rolling pecs and 
pointed cock slammed painfully onto the floor as the bulk of his body 
slid into Weir's footed anchoring. Weir's shredded 490 pound mass 
tumbled forward landing face down on top of Antonio's writhing back 
and ass, his face buried in the great intersection of sweaty muscle 
between the base of the Italian glutes and rear leg biceps. His semi-
hard cock scraped along the ridges of solid muscles of Antonio's neck.

The momentum of almost 1,000 pounds of solidified muscle slammed both 
horizontal forms against the base of Ryan One's cum-filled cooler. 
The power of their hardened meat crumpled the side of the coffin-
sized stainless steel box. The shattering of the glass drums inside 
could be heard over the groans of the two intertwined masses of 
muscle. The two most adjacent steel side panels crashed down on top 
of the twisted pile of muscle exposing the contents while the 
unhinged top crashed to the floor behind the destroyed unit. Almost 
eight gallons of recently collected semi-frozen Ryan-cum spilled out 
filling the three-inch deep metal panning at the bottom of the 
destroyed cooler with enough semi-liquid cum left to ooze into a 
spreading pool on the heated floor.

Recognizing the danger posed by the unfiltered Ryan cum moving toward 
his face, Antonio sought to roll away but Weir planted his feet on 
either side of the Italian's handsome head making that move 
impossible. Using all the vast power within his gargantuan pec meat 
and triceps, Antonio brought his hands under his body just each side 
of his aroused nipples and forced himself into a muscle-defining 
pushup carrying Weir's body up with him. As his arms fought to 
lockout straight, the pressure of his biceps and triceps forced the 
lined thickness of his god-like pecs back toward the floor. 

The spread of the dangerous warming Ryan cum was just a few inches 
away before Antonio was finally able to achieve enough upper torso 
height for his massive breast meat to clear the floor. Using Antonio 
as his hoist, Weir's supported body was in no immediate danger from 
the spreading cum but Antonio's action presented the evil Commander 
with a unique opportunity. Reaching his astoundingly muscled arms 
around the torturous smallness of Antonio's waist, Weir grasped wrist 
to hand enveloping the beautiful Italian in a deadly bearhug. 
Crystallizing his massive arm meat, Weir began to squeeze.

Precum began to ooze from George's cock head at the sight of the 
water polished perfection of Marion's body as the young man emerged 
from the mechanical room into the hallway. The wet skin combined with 
the pumped muscle to create an image of diamond brilliance with each 
stiffly cut facet of muscle perfectly displayed in the harsh corridor 
lighting. Marion's body glowed with youthful power and exuberance as 
he began to circle his prey. The knife and pipe section seemed 
insignificant in comparison to the splendor of the young man's gifted 
musculature.

Marion's mind was filled with no such romanticized thoughts. All he 
sought was the opportunity to prove his superiority over this equally 
well-muscled opponent. He would enjoy letting his masturbated cum 
spill onto George's heavily muscled carcass. Marion's cock dripped 
it's own anticipatory precum - that of feeling his own great muscles 
driving the last ounces of strength and power from George's steely 
muscle. As if to demonstrate his commitment to his cause, Marion 
pounded one of his massively swelled pecs with the closed fist 
grasping the remaining knife. The echo of bone striking rock-hard 
meat echoed down the hallway as Marion let out the cry of his battle 
charge.

It was George's turn to attack first. He swooped in on the glorious 
younger mountain of proud muscle grabbing the chest pounding fist 
with one strong hand and the pumped cock post with the other. 
Exerting all his considerable strength, George yanked the surprised 
blond from his feet and began to spin around carrying the 
fantastically youth's body with him using the one arm and the rigid 
cock as handles. Marion screamed in agony as the dizzying centrifugal 
forces threatened to tear his steely hard cock from its very rooting 
into his muscle-plated groin.

After almost two full turns, George let loose of his grips sending 
the phenomenal muscle missile flying through the air down the long 
wide hallway toward the lab where Weir, Mark and Antonio were also 
engaged in their deadly battle. Marion's body tensed as he slammed 
chest-down onto the hard floor. He had lost the black iron pipe he 
had been holding during the windup and it rolled to a stop against 
George's feet. Marion's body continued to twist as it slid along the 
rough floor surface until the impact of his head and one shoulder 
brought him to an abrupt stop against one side wall about twenty feet 
down the hall.

George swooped up the iron stack section and began to charge toward 
Marion's sprawled body. The site of the muscular young ass clenched 
above the enormity of the rear side of Marion's gargantuan upper legs 
and diamond flexed calf muscles was as deliciously tantalizing as the 
heavily muscled front of the beautiful youth. The great gluteal 
muscles fissured into striated mountains as the various cords of 
writhing muscle rolled to honed perfection under the shining wet silk 
of skin.

In spite of the breathtaking vision, the American soldier continued 
his charge. When he was only a body length away, the stunningly 
gorgeous youth rolled over painfully onto his side. Marion's mooned 
and chiseled near pec globed into view. Its perfect shape and 
stunning power seemed invincible in spite of the sight of the hilt of 
the knife blade anchored on to the previously unblemished meaty 
surface. Clearly, the young man had landed on his own knife. The 
power of the impact had forced the 8" blade neatly into the thickest 
section of the muscled breast. George's rushing form came to an 
immediate, stunned stop.

Seemingly mindless of the injury, the angry young figure pushed 
himself into a sitting position with his back against the corridor 
wall. Looking down to the swell of his heaving chest, he reached down 
and pulled the full length of the embedded blade out of the 
impossibly thick man-tit meat. He was careful to be sure that his 
withdrawal was straight and true so as to minimize the damage that 
could be done by the razor-sharp serrated edge. The blade came out 
streaked with blood from the supremely pumped meat and a flow of 
blood immediately started streaking down the ridged landscape of the 
injured pec but the handsome face showed no sign of weakness or 
surrender.

Marion's triceps locked into coiled springs of mindlessly strong 
muscle as he used them to launch his body up from the wall and the 
floor directly at his assailant. George was caught by shock and 
surprise as the tower of muscle hurled toward him. Leading the way 
was a launch of white-hot cum spewing from the beautiful young cock. 
The initial gush of steaming cum reached George's tensely flexed pecs 
first. 

George reacted instinctively from his years of specialized training. 
The iron pipe swooped around in the American's hands like a great 
baseball bat catching the flying mass of Coven muscle on the side 
just above the waistline. Marion's form went sailing back down the 
corridor toward the gaping holes of the equipment room and the weapon 
room once again. This time the gloriously muscled body landed back in 
the equipment room sliding through hard to the back wall on the sheet 
of water covering the floor.

A trail of fresh, hot cum marked the path for the steadfast American 
to follow. Marion's cock still dripped with the last emissions of his 
creamy ejaculation as George approached the gaping hole in the wall. 
Marion was determined to fight on and win in spite of the pain and 
confusion clouding his mind. The stunningly handsome face worn a 
dazed look as George began to wind the pipe high over his head, 
moving closer toward the shadowy room. Marion's sprawling body rolled 
with the contouring of his richly voluminous muscles seductively 
offered to toward his assailant.

Marion knew he needed to act quickly and so he did. But quickly was 
not wisely. The lights flickered and blinked all up and down the 
hallway and throughout the villa and his massive arm became a 
breathtaking image of veined, balled granite as he tore the adjacent 
pipe from the floor. Unfortunately, it had not been another water or 
sewer pipe this time but, rather, one of the conduit casings leading 
to the main electric switchgear. His vast muscle shook and shuttered 
with every trembling fiber displayed as the raw electric current 
coursed through Marion's wet body. 

The lights continued to flicker casting the motions of Marion's death 
into a macabre strobe-light show. George reeled back against the far 
wall of the corridor as the form of the beautiful young man contorted 
through its last seconds of life charged with muscle-defining 
convulsions. Then, with Marion's last breath, the room, the hall and 
the villa went dark.

Weir's 34" of striated bicep and triceps meat pumped along with his 
ridged pecs pressed into Antonio's crisp waistband of equally staunch 
muscle with petrified power as the Commander tightened his deadly 
grasp. Antonio painfully pulled his legs under him until he was 
kneeling on all fours carrying Weir's 490 pounds of clasping muscle 
on his back. As Antonio's sublime ass cheeks elongated and stretched 
into a muscle layered quarter circle from the small of his pec-
invaded back to the great swell of his curled rear leg biceps, Weir's 
face slipped into the widening gap between the volume of the two 
great ass muscles.

Weir continued to tighten his hold. He could feel his immensely 
flexed biceps begin to overpower the steel cables of Antonio's 
obliques and his writhing forearm muscles scraping along the diamond 
hard plates of Antonio's lower abs. Antonio crunched down on his abs 
forcing them to a level of brilliant hardness as he struggled to 
resist the endless strength of Weir's crushing arms and upper torso. 
Weir's hot breath tickled the moist opened valley between Antonio's 
glutes.

With each reinforced crunch, Weir pushed his deadly strangle hold 
fractionally deeper into Antonio's waist. The phenomenally beautiful 
Italian's face became lined with growing fear and pain. He knew he 
needed to act quickly. With one desperate shove, the endless muscle 
of Antonio's voluminous pecs sprung into stratified action along with 
the bouldered power of his ass forcing his torso into an upright 
posture with his clenched rear leg biceps cemented onto the top of 
his columned calf muscles.

Suddenly Weir found himself upside-down in midair held in place only 
by his unflinching crushing grasp around Antonio's painfully small 
waistband. As Antonio's vast body of muscle rolled upward, Weir found 
his face trapped within the closing canyon of the Italian muscle-
statue's sculpted globes of gluteal meat. Acting quickly, he pulled 
his embedded face out arcing his head back until the back of his head 
became pinned from further movement by the swell of his own ridged 
trap muscles. Antonio's ass cheeks continued to rise toward their 
fully inflated force, pushing Weir's head further back atop their 
forbiddingly hard surface.

As Antonio focused his waning energies on the power within his ass 
muscles, Weir was forced to choose between his crushing bearhug hold 
and the snapping pressures growing on the base of his neck. With 
nothing left to loose, Weir curled his lower legs back shifting the 
center of gravity of the two colossal intertwined compilations of 
muscle further behind Antonio's kneeling form. With Antonio's 
concentration focused on the constriction of his ass and the 
resistance needed by his abs, he was unprepared for this third issue. 
His amazing body began to roll back out of balance.

With catlike reflexes, Antonio rolled onto his feet and pushed his 
body into a standing position carrying all 970 pounds of conjoined 
muscle up with him. As astonishing as the power of this act was in 
and of itself, it did nothing to help the lack of balance with which 
he was struggling. Antonio staggered backward faster and faster as he 
sought, to no avail, to achieve a balanced stance. Both bodies 
crashed into a lab table that had the misfortune to be in their path. 
The top-heavy burden dragged the bodies of the two men over the top 
of the table.

They tumbled over. The sound of smashing glass filled the air as the 
full weight rolled over the top on Weir's chiseled back. Razored bits 
of glass tried to dig into the Commander's back but the density of 
his struggling muscle limited the damage to an array of small surface 
cuts. But the pain he encountered was real and the mindless twisting 
of the two bodies was staggeringly disorienting. Both men continued 
to tumble as they crashed down toward the floor on the back of the 
table. One of the table legs collapsed under the weight spilling the 
table and its contents onto the two forms as they hit the floor.

In the process, Weir lost his grasp around Antonio's waist. The two 
great bodies ended up splayed on their backs on the floor next to one 
another. Antonio's vaster pecs rose more than a foot higher than 
Weir's as his back rode upon the solid mass of Weir's right arm. Both 
cocks pointed upward aroused by the power of the battle. The crimson-
hard head of Weir's 14" cock waved proudly as he rolled slightly from 
side to side to avoid the discomfort of the shards of glass glued 
onto his back.

Antonio rolled off of Weir's arm, onto his front, and back onto all 
fours. By the time Antonio was able to dizzily upright himself, Weir 
was already behind him with his massive arms already locked under his 
own. Weir fought against the massiveness of his own gargantuan biceps 
and the stupefying scale of Antonio's extended pecs to capture the 
beautiful Italian muscle in a full-nelson hold. Antonio battled back 
trying to use the endless strength of his expansive pecs to draw his 
own magnificent arm muscle mass down against his hurting sides to 
trap the Major's arms between the power of his biceps, lats and outer 
pecs.

The two equally engaged bodies danced across the floor and around the 
room as they each struggled for a superior hold. Their stone-hard 
bodies crashed and smashed into every object in their way turning the 
center of the room into a veritable war-zone of destroyed furniture 
and equipment. Mark ran over to the secured seated figure of Ryan 
One. He unlocked the wheeled seat, grabbed the glass canister into 
which the current flow of cum oozed and rolled them to a far corner. 
Only now did he realize that the Asian man had taken leave through a 
door in the corner of the room. Mark headed for the safety of the 
same door and rolled Ryan One from the room.

Mark had acted none-too-soon as the battling muscle-gods crashed into 
the table of instruments through the space that Ryan One had 
previously occupied. Weir's 34" of diamond hard upper arm muscles 
proved to be an even challenge against Antonio's inhumanly muscled 
pecs as neither seemed to able to gain an advantage. Unspoken pain 
course through both bodies in their deadly struggle. Each explosively 
large muscle consuming each superlative body became covered in 
polishing sweat and lined with a frenzy of feeding veining. 

Weir's beating cock pounded against the base of Antonio's bloated 
balls as it forced its way between the power of the Italian's inner 
thighs. Antonio's over-stimulated cock dripped in response with 
anticipatory precum. But their minds and bodies remained focused on 
and driven by battle. Both were becoming exhausted. There was not 
much left in the room to be destroyed. Then, as they staggered toward 
the remnants of the cum-filled cooler an idea occurred to Antonio.

Instead of fighting Weir's powerful efforts, Antonio curled his torso 
forward into a gymnastic tumble carrying the body of the surprised 
Major with him. Weir's feet left the floor as his vast muscle mass 
rolled over the top of his equally muscled challenger. Antonio let go 
as the Major's body cleared his head. Weir continued to tumble 
through the air hitting the floor hard with his flexed front torso. 
His head smashed against the floor only inches from the cooler base.

Antonio wasted no time as he threw his massively muscled body on top 
of the Major's back with one leg anchored to the floor on each side 
of the strikingly tight waist. Antonio grabbed the fledgling figure 
by the head and hoisted Weir's face up over the cum-filled base of 
the destroyed cooler then he pushed the full weight of his massive 
body onto the Major's back. Antonio's pecs dug hard into the base of 
Weir's thick traps forcing the Commander's face into the warming pool 
of Ryan One's cum. Just as quickly, Antonio wrapped his great arms 
under the god-like muscle of Weir's upper arms grabbing the frame of 
the cooler tightly with each hand.

Antonio's biceps balled and split into marbled spheres of striated 
muscle as he used them to lock his clenched torso against the 
Commander's struggling back. The huge globed masses of Antonio's 
colossal upper pec meat drove the Major's face deep into the sea of 
Ryan One cum until his nose and mouth were fully submerged.  Weir's 
body began to roll like that of a wild bronco with Antonio's prone 
figure as its great muscle-rider but Antonio refused to yield his 
grip or pressuring pecs to the monstrously muscle horse upon which he 
rode.

As panic shifted to desperation, Weir tried to maneuver his signature 
34" arms to the floor below so that he could repeat the push-up 
escape previously utilized by his assailant but Antonio was wise to 
this option. He could feel the great power within each of Weir's 
stupendous biceps and triceps against his own as the Major's last 
efforts threatened to rip Antonio's hands from their mind-driven hold 
of the cooler base. Weir's head began to shake beneath the rocked 
walls of Antonio's pecs as the burn of Ryan One's deadly cum was 
inhaled into his begging lungs.

The hugely muscled body pinned below Antonio quivered with the last 
throws of its struggle as more and more burning cum displaced the 
last of the air in its lungs. Antonio held his deadly position until 
he was absolutely certain that the last of the life was drowned out 
of the Commander's astounding body. After he finally moved away, 
Antonio permitted himself the opportunity to masturbate and climax 
onto the body of his former leader. As his own cum left its final 
mark, Antonio smiled at his own salvation and pitied the Major for 
having had so much muscle-beauty and, yet, so much deadly evil.