TRIALS – Chapter 1

By: JOHN

He wanted it big. I wanted it hard. We both needed it to be big and 
hard. It had to be as big and hard as humanly possible or all the 
time, energy and effort just wouldn't have been worth all the work. 
For him it was a prime motivation. For me it was an unquestioned 
necessity.

His entire body, like those others still hoping for their turn 
(should they get one), was one amazing mass of muscle. It was the 
body of a bodybuilder's bodybuilder. It was a body built to be 
challenged and built for the challenge. Why these supreme creatures 
chose to participate in helping me fulfill my desires to see their 
massive muscles forced to and beyond their limits is something I 
never quite understood. Then again, I didn't need to understand their 
reasoning. All I wanted was to pleasure myself with the superior 
development I deserved to experience.

I didn't even know his name. Somehow it made it easier not to know. 
He was `Number 7'. I must admit that a part of me hoped that his 
number would turn out to be the one I was seeking. At the first sight 
of him walking into the chamber, that was the first thought that 
crossed my mind. Of course, it had been the same with the others at 
the time. Maybe he would, indeed, be "Lucky 7".

He was by far the most handsome of the men who had come forward in 
response to my ad. His curly blond hair was thick and spilled softly 
across his brow blowing in silky tufts as he moved into posing 
position. His lips were full, wet and rich. His sea-green eyes were 
clear and focused with a constant smile in them that matched the one 
upon his chiseled face. A look of confidence bespoke his 
determination and self-belief.

As I quickly gazed over his body, there was nothing not to like at 
what I was looking at. He was the image of the perceived perfect 
human specimen destined to spawn and lift the human race to a higher 
physical level. Of course, the fact that he was gay probably would 
have precluded that possibility except for the sperm donations that 
had been required as part of his acceptance here.

He had been training and taking the prescribed dietary supplements 
for six full months now. He had also been involved in the needed gene 
splicing. This placed him at the prime moment for his desired 
development. Past tests had demonstrated that there would be little 
to no additional muscle or density gains to be anticipated from this 
point on. He had been starved from working out for the last month so 
that today's gain would be the sharpest and most explosive. And, he 
would certainly need all of the muscle and all of the energy he could 
muster.

After a few isometric constrictions, he began his initial flexing 
routine so that we could take his measurements. The supplement 
program we had developed had certainly paid off for him. It took only 
a couple of flexing movements before his entire body was ripped and 
hard. I searched my mind for the right word to describe his body and 
settled on `luscious'. He had a supple taper between his shoulder 
width and waist. The swell of his thighs also made his midsection 
appear stunningly narrow. The way he could vacuum the space occupied 
by his abdominal muscles to create a nave deep enough to protect any 
one of his many bodybuilding title trophies caused a deep stirring in 
my own groin.

Above all, there were his arms! Never before had I seen such 
development on anyone else and, at the same time, such untapped 
promise in a set of biceps as there was in his. For this reason I had 
selected them as our point of attention. I always preferred to direct 
my challenge at the best and greatest body part of the individual. 
This gave me the greatest thrill while it offered him the best chance 
for success.

He alternated the flexing of his arms giving himself as much of an 
opportunity to witness the beauty of each stunning bicep as he showed 
them off to me. The full, long body of the tremendous elongated bicep 
meat on one arm shimmered with cabled lines of thick muscle as he 
pointed his fingers straight and far away from his torso. As he 
twisted his outstretched hand to turn his palm upright, a great 
cylinder of tubed muscle formed atop his upper arm extending from his 
hilled deltoid to the hollow of his upper elbow joint. The promise of 
the reinforcing veining was already present just beneath the tissue-
thin skin.

The wonderful muscle rounded up full and hard as he clenched his fist 
and forced his vein-ribbed forearm upright. The tube of muscle 
slipped inward at each end forcing the central core to swell into a 
rising ball of stiff meat. His thin skin stretched over the rounding 
mass gluing itself onto the fibrous surface of the dense muscle and 
driving the thick main vein out onto the surface with its ribbons of 
tributary feeder veins. Fissures and lined indentations cut across 
the spherical surface and the mound separated into an impacted front 
and rear lobe. The chiseled muscle shook with solid power as the rear 
ball peaked distinctly higher than its front brother. Deep sharp 
shadows divided the balled bicep from the trenches between his 
deltoid and his forearm.

As much as I enjoyed the existing vision, my anxiety to see him force 
his amazing musculature forward to the desired final level drove me 
to move on with the necessary recording of his current, delicious 
measurements. He flexed his body parts a couple more times as I 
secured the tape and began to wrap it around each major muscle group 
noting the results in the process.

The weigh-in just prior to his entry into the chamber listed his 
starting weight as 260 pounds which was distributed beautifully over 
his 5'-9" height. His thighs taped in at 34" around with his flexed 
calf muscles a full 20". I enjoyed the sensations of my fingers 
circumnavigating his 32" waist and, on my signal he fleshed out the 
fullness of his 58" chest and torso. The 17" forearms were splendidly 
writhing with solid sinewy meat. Then, I longingly extended the sweat-
wetted tape around the great flexed balls of his bicep and tensed 
triceps. We smiled at each other as the printed 23" dimension locked 
over the starting end tape.

Removing his ultra-small posers, I played with his heavy cock until, 
in just moments, it too was as hot and hard as the rest of his 
sensational body. If there was one thing that I would change about 
him, it would be to have him circumcised. As much as I enjoyed 
forcing his struggling foreskin back from his swelling cock head, I 
have always had a preference for cut cocks. The rigid growth of his 
tantalizing member swallowed most of the capping cape along its 
cylindrical length. The tape licked the slitted opening at the far 
end at just shy of the 8 ½" point and recorded the diameter at the 
anchored base to be 5 ½" around.

At my direction, he offered his various flexed body parts to me as I 
forced a syringe containing the collected and processed stimulating 
fluids into the veining within several pulsing muscles. He did not 
even wince once as the clear liquid moved into his circulating 
system. Within seconds his body began to shiver with the telltale 
signaling of the chemicals working their way into every inch of his 
hungry muscles. It was always exciting to watch as each individual 
muscle quivered electrically in its feeding frenzy, soaking up every 
molecule of the enriching fluids.

The shaking stopped and he was ready. He needed to work fast and hard 
now. He smiled broadly with his own sense of excited anticipation. He 
had heard tales of the promised gains and had worked a long time to 
be standing at the front edge of the exhilarating experience. I could 
see his muscles fill with anxious readiness as his mind tried to 
process the potential experience. 

I stepped back as he headed toward the squat rack. Because of the 
many large muscle groups involved in the motions, it had proven to be 
the best place to start. He pounded out a set with 500 pounds already 
loaded on the bar. After 12 sharp, crisp reps, he knew that his 
muscles were, indeed, startlingly more powerful than even he could 
have previously imagined. He doubled the weight and surged through a 
second set. His legs and glutes were already sharpening. His eyes 
grew wide with want and desire. The sweeping arc of his quads stayed 
higher and higher with each dip. Cords of meat on his legs separated 
into distinct cabled springs within the various front and upper leg 
muscles and the separations between each muscle grew more and more 
defined as their volumes expanded.

By the fourth set, he was joyously pushing a full ton of plated metal 
up and down with just the power of his upper legs and severely 
striated ass muscles. He finished with an additional 250 pounds and 
forced his working muscles to a level of awesome accomplishment. 
Ripping off much of the weight, he rolled immediately into a blinding 
set of calf raises. Again, the sense of potential power drove his 
desires. Filled with new confidence, he repeated the set with 750 
pounds on the bar. The swell of his calf muscles became carved with 
unbelievable sharpness and angularity. His last set with 1,000 pounds 
appeared as easy as the first one and the increasing in the thickness 
of his calf muscles matched the increase tin the amount of weight he 
used.

Laying face down on a leg curl machine proved a little cumbersome 
until he finally got his growing cock forced through the gap that had 
been created through previous experience in the bench covering. He 
was too preoccupied with the feeling within his hungering muscles to 
let himself focus on his lengthening organ. More aware of his new 
abilities, he began his leg curls with the same half-ton of weight 
with which he had just finished on calf raises. The fifth set at 
1,500 pounds forced the swell of his shredded rear leg biceps up into 
great hills of solidified muscle commanding almost as much attention 
as the astonishing chiseled mountains of his stunning ass muscles.

Forcing his cock back through the now-too-tight hole in the padding, 
he rolled over onto his back and locked his hands around the waiting 
bar to begin his bench presses. The 500 pound set seemed like child 
play for him. The 750 pound set was equally unchallenging. The vision 
of his massive pecs mooning into great half-planets of etched meat, 
growing higher and wider with each succeeding rep was grossly erotic. 
His thick nipples were pushed further and further downward over the 
growing arc of pec meat as the depth of the mountained muscle 
continued to thicken. Standing beneath him, his face and head was 
completely obscured by the huge pilings of striated meat atop his 
heaving chest as he forced the last set out with 1,600 pounds.

The bar crashed back onto its holding rack as he immediately shifted 
into an endless series of sit-up crunches. As he extended his body to 
balance his full weight on the solid formations of his ass meat, he 
sucked in his abs with each extension of his body to maximize their 
range of motion. His waist grew tighter and harder without showing 
any signs of expanding into the overly extended form synonymous with 
the taking of excessive amounts of steroids. Each abdominal spread 
into a flattened plate of muscle surrounded by a staunchly carved 
defining moat into which the sweat of the exhaustive workout poured 
freely.

Almost 1,000 sit-ups later, he rose from the bench and locked his 
upper legs, with great difficulty, under the lat pull-down support 
bar. His back muscles expanded into a huge "v" of meat as he reached 
for the dangling bar above and hooked his fingers around it. His 
shoulder muscle was already fighting with his traps to occupy the 
same space as he began his pull-down reps. By the third set, he was 
again shoving a ton of metal around. The sharp "v" was now a huge 
inverted "c" of muscle sweeping continuously from its vertical 
impacting between the triceps and rear delts to its horizontal 
intrusion into the smallness of his lower back. Fingers of tendoned 
muscle reached across his flexing lower back erectors pulling his 
rear midsection down flatly into the dimpled and inviting crevice 
between his pounding ass cheeks. He completed his back growth using 
2,250 pounds to force his lats to well over a yard wide and as thick 
as his head.

His delts and traps took no time to be forced into lined visions of 
anatomical musculature. The shoulder presses and shrugs were almost 
painful to watch but provided the desired results as each flexing 
delt grew to be as large and handsome as his whole head.

Triceps pushdowns were used by him to begin the enhancement of his 
astonishing upper arms. Ribbons of lined meat coiled along and around 
each individual muscle-head of his crunched triceps. The depth of the 
horseshoe-lined dimple in the center core of each muscle became so 
deep that the base became totally lost in the shadow cast over it by 
the triple mountings of muscle surrounding them. For the fourth and 
final set, he pounded over 1,000 pounds up and down without any sign 
of cheating.

When it was time to finish with his great, proud biceps, he selected 
preacher curls as the method of assault. It took many adjustments 
before he could manage to get enough support from the machine padding 
wedged between his colossal triceps and unforgiving pec meat. The 
padded horizontal angled plate of the resting arm of the curl machine 
seemed almost overwhelmed by the muscle in which it was trapped.

At his request, I helped him hoist the 750 pound barbell into his 
grasp. He smiled proudly as he flew through a set of 20 reps with no 
signs of effort. He was pleased. The second set was done with 1,000 
pounds. The monstrous mass of his biceps thundered into impossibly 
huge balls of pure rock as he pulled the massive weight upward and 
then slowly lowered it back down. He was clearly enjoying the power 
of this exercise and the sight of his own growing biceps in action. 
The major vein mounted atop each flexing ball of stupendous 
muscularity slithered like a heavy rope between the translucent skin 
and the fibrous meat. For the fifth set he used 1,400 pounds of 
weight that was a record so far. His handsome face glowed with the 
sense and knowledge of his curling accomplishment.

As quickly as he was done with his final set, I moved in to record 
the new measurement of each stupendous muscle group. The man who had 
been a vision of handsome perfection before he began was now nothing 
short of awesomely spectacular. His weight-charged muscles pulsed 
visibly beneath his skin. He flexed almost automatically as his 
powerfully charged muscles each announced their stunning presence.

His thighs were now 43" around and his calf muscles were fluted 
muscle-columns 24" in girth. His waist was still an impenetrable 32" 
and vacuumed down to almost 30" as he lifted his arms up from his 
sides and forced each plated ab into a concave arch.beneath his rib 
cage. Pushing his hands back down onto his hips, he ballooned his 
upper torso to its new 66" circumference. My hands encountered 
impenetrable layers of rock-dense muscle as they slipped over his 
amazing pecs and forced the tape over the endless surface of his 
huge, thick lats. Both sets of upper torso muscles shifted erotically 
under my touch.

Rolling one arm into his signature biceps pose, I nearly dropped the 
tape at the sight of the stupendous new arm muscles. The upper arm 
proved to be as solid to the touch as it did to my wanting eyes. I 
tried to force the great rounded vein to move over the surface of the 
vision of split-balled muscle but the size of his arm had forced his 
skin to be stretched so tightly over the phenomenal mound of meat 
that it sat rigidly in place. He constricted his triceps to achieve 
his maximum measurement as I threw the tape over the top of the 
gigantic peak of balled muscle.

At 30", his upper arm was close to half the size of his monstrous 
chest and more erotically compelling than any muscle I had seen on 
any of the men to date. He partially straightened out his arm and 
then brought it back to its fully flexed position. The tape slipped 
another half and inch in the process and I almost lost my own load of 
aching cum at the feel of the living wonder of his muscle in action 
beneath my quivering hands. I let my hands dwell upon the spectacle 
of his flexing bicep as I silently whispered a prayer for his 
success. As if reading my thoughts, his handsome face winked at me 
with its ever-present smile beaming proudly.

Before we could begin the final phase, I needed to do two last 
things. First, I had him step back on the scale and recorded his new 
345 pound weight. Then came what was always both the hardest thing to 
get through and the most enjoyable. Now, more than ever, I needed his 
cum.

My eyes and hands drifted from the heated muscle of his bicep to hot 
readiness of his engorged cock. The bloated organ had grown into a 
magnificent 11" long and 6 ½" circumference weapon of inflexible 
maleness. It was not the largest I had seen on others, but it was 
certainly nothing to sneeze at now. Hot excitement warmed my groping 
hands as I encased about half of the length in the specially 
made `rubber' sheathing. An extremely large loop of loose plastic 
hung ready at the end to catch the eruption of cum that I expected 
him to provide.

As I began stroking his organ with all the power I could muster, I 
encouraged him to become involved in the release of his waiting man-
juice. His cock stood straight and powerfully hard at a 45-degree 
angle up from the horizontal. He winced with slight painful 
discomfort as my first strokings tried to force his cock from its 
anchored angle. He seemed more excited then most of his predecessors 
and became a very active participant in my milking maneuvers. His 
hips rocked and gyrated with wanting passion. Every stupendous muscle 
crossed back and forth between solidly flexed and hotly pliable as 
they worked with his body to achieve the desired sexual release.

Soon we were both hungrily at work. My hands moved with blurring 
speed along his great shaft as his undulating body joined into the 
rhythm. His massive balls slapped loudly against his great inner 
thighs and my stroking knuckles stirring his juices into launching 
position. Then his entire musculature began to quiver with the 
uncontrollable sensations of pending orgasm.

His body turned to a vision of striated rock as the first explosion 
of cum almost ripped the collecting casing from the shaft of his 
beating cock. I tightened my grasp around the pole of his cock shaft 
to hold the liner on as he continued to quake through several more 
violent ejaculations. He virtually filled the entire well of the 
rubber with his hot creamy sauce. As he relaxed into the conclusion 
of his release, I dragged my clasping fingers along the length of his 
still-hard pole to force the last drops of cum into the waiting 
vessel.

I removed the covering from his spent cock carefully and quickly 
knotted the sack filled with his precious semen. I noted that, as 
with the others, each succeeding man delivered more and more valuable 
cum. Again I briefly wondered if this would be the last that I would 
need to gather in this fashion.

Now, I was about to discover that answer.

I moved away and placed the cum into the waiting container to ensure 
its protection. Then I turned and permitted myself one final overview 
of the stupendous creature that now stood in readiness before me. He 
was absolutely stunning. Muscle virtually dripped from every inch of 
his body. And, for all the splendor of his astonishing musculature, 
his upper arms were still, by far, his most amazing features.

He knew where we had to begin. I selected the sharpest and longest of 
the Bowie knives available and moved back toward him. For a brief 
instant, it seemed that his proud smile disappeared but it returned 
with a renewed sense of confidence almost immediately. I gently 
rubbed his right arm as he began to flex his staggering bicep against 
the side of his chiseled pecs. The amazing muscle resumed its 
unmatched image of solidity almost immediately.

Slowly I pushed the tip of the razor sharp blade up against the 
straining surface of the back of the upper peak of balled meat. He 
flexed harder and harder as I tried to force the steel through the 
skin and into the density of the meat. I continued to push and he 
closed his fist harder until his fingers began to turn white from a 
lack of blood making his muscle move from granite to diamond 
hardness. I forced the pointed blade against the sensational muscle. 
A thin line of blood from the small puncture of the skin ran over the 
surface but the deadly weapon was refused admission into the density 
of the meat. Then the metal of the blade began to arc. I pushed 
harder. Suddenly, the solid steel of the knife broke in half. He 
flexed proudly once more pushing the tip of the severed metal away 
from his skin. It rang loudly as it fell to the floor below.

He had passed the first test. His muscle had become so dense as to 
repel even the razor sharp danger of the knife from penetrating its 
body of meat. Next, I brought back a length of heavy chain. The steel-
hard links clanged loudly as I wrapped them tightly around his 
relaxed upper arm twice. It would take a great deal more power in his 
muscles to resist its intentions. I brought the first two links that 
I could together with the chain secured around his upper arm mass and 
slipped a steel padlock between the two of them.

I checked the lock and noticed the pained look on his aesthetic face 
as the links dug into his relaxed muscle. At my signal he began to 
flex his bicep. The links groaned as they were forced to stretch out 
from end to end around his swelling muscles. He continued to force 
his forearm upward. The movement slowed as the chain tried to dig its 
resistance into the flexing meat of his biceps and triceps. He 
grimaced with clear determination as the steel chaining sought to 
restrict his muscles from achieving their fully flexed majesty. He 
breathed deeply and then refocused on his task. As the steel of the 
thick links became glued onto his swelling meat, a slight redness 
appeared where metal bit against his hardened flesh. His facial 
expression turned into defiant determination as his forearm crept 
closer to a right angle with his upper arm. The huge bicep and 
triceps pushed back against the metal links forcing them out from the 
rock-hard surfaces of his chiseled arm meat. The creaking of the 
metal grew louder as he continued his efforts. The great master vein 
appeared as hard as his muscle and ready to burst when, finally, one 
link shattered. The chain flew from his flexed arm almost catching 
him in one eye as it whizzed past his handsome face.

His smile grew as he realized the power and value of his 
accomplishment. Two tests had been successfully completed. Only one 
more remained. He had survived the test of power and the test of 
strength. Now he had to face that of endurance. That, of course, 
meant that he had to face off directly against me.

I led us over to the waiting two foot long by 6 inch wide solid steel 
beam that sat like a construction horse about four feet above the 
floor. At each end the steel had been pounded into a slight concave 
dimple sized to fit our elbows. I walked around to the far side as he 
placed his right elbow into position with his hand open and ready for 
mine. 

He wanted my body as much as I wanted his, maybe more. But no one 
could have me until they could prove themselves to be my equal. The 
smile was now gone from his model-perfect face. He pushed several 
curls of flowing blond hair from above his left eye with his free 
hand as I positioned myself. He knew the game. Either he defeats me 
or I destroyed him. It was about muscle against muscle and man 
against man. To have me, he must first conquer me. Failure was not an 
option and not acceptable.

We locked hands and I counted to three.

His newly acquired monstrous bicep became an instant vision of 
diamond-hard muscle - as did mine. The 30" diameter of his ultra-
dense muscle bicep and 20" of forearm meat filled the left side of my 
field of vision. The gargantuan form of my own 34" bicep proudly 
consumed the rest of my view. I loved my muscle as much as life 
itself and I needed to experience only the best of perfected muscle 
to satisfy me. Muscle like mine demanded equal muscle in any 
potential partner. It was time for him to prove that he was that 
mountain of muscle destined to share my life and work with me.

He pushed his hand and wrist against mine as he sought to gain an 
early advantage over my more massive flexing sphere of perfected 
bicep meat. I had to admit that he was very good at disguising his 
amazement at the sight of my arm fully flexed. As stunning as the 
spectacle of his writhing arm muscle was, mine was so staggeringly 
superior in scale as to still merit drawing my own awed attention to 
it as it worked against his. A finger-thick vein rode atop the 
monstrous peak of my bicep. It appeared bluish as it carried spent 
blood away from the beating meat just beneath my overly stretched, 
translucent skin.

I let his muscle work against my swelling meat as I read the 
conviction and determination in his gorgeous face. His lips were full 
and red. I wanted to grab the back of his head with my free hand and 
paste the kiss they demanded upon their wetted surface. His eyes 
became fixed on the dance of my bicep meat as I forced each and every 
fiber and cell of muscle into visible presence. I permitted my bicep 
to quake with power as he continued to force his arm against mine.

Sweat ran down his brow and into his eyes and covered his high 
cheekbones with a glow that made him look even more handsome. His 
jugular veins surfaced along the length of his heavily muscled neck 
as he increased his driven struggle. I watched the veining and 
striations that defined the beauty of his bicep grow increasing 
sharply defined. The heat of the blood pulsing through his fighting 
meat rose to meet my nostrils and filled me with the delicious musk 
of his sweating body aroma.

We had been engaged in the struggle for almost five minutes when his 
determined eyes finally peered directly into mine. I inhaled deeply 
to swallow the sigh of want for him in my mind. I knew my desires to 
have him were trying to take over the struggle going on in my head 
and I knew the potential danger of that distraction. I glanced once 
more over the great shivering mountain of his bicep and back directly 
into his sculpted face before closing my eyes.

The snap of the bones in his forearm and upper arm as I threw his 
massive arm down around the steel beam rung in my ears. I could feel 
his glorious bicep being separated from its connection with his 
splintering shoulder in my clutching hand. It took but a few short 
seconds to destroy his months and years of physically stunning work 
and accomplishment.

The sound of his pain was too much for me to deal with for long. 
Without letting go of his useless arm, I rose and slipped behind his 
shivering, gorgeous body. I could feel the muscles of his striated 
glutes flexing under the pressure of my hungry cock as it forced its 
way across the bundled ridges and valleys of their magnificent forms. 
Still groaning in unbearable pain, he lifted one leg to permit the 
power of my hard cock to slip between his twitching inner thigh 
muscles and under his heavy testicles. Its massive shaft rubbed 
across the softness of his dampened sphincter. Wrapping my free hand 
behind his neck and head, I caressed his flexing delts and trapezius 
as I put an instant end to his agony.

I guess 7 was not as lucky a number as we had both hoped it would be. 
I retired to my quarters and beat off to his memory and the feel of 
my own monstrously muscled powerful body