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Friday, August 12, 2016

Feats of Manhood

Feats of Manhood
Based on an original story by BrianWM


The title of the exhibit was as simple as it was enigmatic -- "Feats of Manhood". I slipped into a seat towards the back of the small auditorium and waited for the show to begin. Looking around, I noted that the audience was exclusively male, and everyone was waiting expectantly. An odd assortment of props was on the stage: a huge 60's era Cadillac convertible, a school bus, numerous large metal drums, and some weights.

Soon the curtain in the middle of the stage opened and an enormous, fully dressed figure stepped out. He was very tall by any standards, approximately 6’6”, and he appeared, if anything, to be extremely obese. He was dressed in an oversized sweat shirt with long loose sleeves that ballooned over a bulky torso. The initials "MM" were stenciled on the front. His lower half was encased in baggy sweat pants. 

"What a slob," I thought to myself as I prepared to leave. 

What compelled me to remain was the only part of his body that was visible: a disproportionately thick neck, swelling out from his shirt making his head look almost tiny, stretching the fabric around the collar to the breaking point. The muscles on each side of his head were so thick they protruded out beyond his ears. "His collar size must be 30 inches!" I mused. Talk about a bull neck! I had never seen anything remotely like it in my life! 

The huge figure had his head down, so I couldn’t see his face. His thick dark blonde hair was cropped relatively short. When he lifted his head, I thought I would pass out. The man was absolutely gorgeous! Though obviously young, there was nothing boyish about this face. He was as stunning as they come, with a powerful chin, strong jaw, high cheekbones, sensual lips, and piercing, soulful, cornflower blue eyes. Although shaven, he had noticeable blond stubble, making him look even more rugged, and almost brutish in an intensely beautiful, overwhelmingly masculine sort of way. 

Hell, at this point I didn’t care if this young man was obese -- I could stare at that almost painfully handsome face all day! 

The audience murmured and shifted in anticipation. The young man on stage grinned impishly and, his massive hand reaching up to his shirt collar, he started tearing it slowly downward with a heavy tearing sound. 

What emerged made me and the rest of the audience gasp. 

Gruesomely huge pectoral muscles leaped out, mounted on an enormous ribcage and sporting large red-purple tits. The awesome width of his mammoth pecs was matched only by their colossal thickness. He continued ripping the shirt downward, revealing not the expected distended, flabby belly of an overweight man, but an incredibly tight, ripped abdomen with a perfect 8-pack of corrugated muscles. 

My painfully hard cock was like an iron crowbar in my pants, threatening to tear through my jeans, but I hardly noticed, so focused was I on the glorious muscle god slowly revealing himself before my mesmerized eyes. 

He shrugged off the tattered remains of the sweat shirt, and only then did the sheer magnitude of his arms become apparent. Enormous biceps ballooned from all angles of his upper arm, and his forearms were bulging hams, already glistening with sweat. The young stud made a double biceps pose, and as his arms swelled majestically, and I guessed that those amazing guns must have been at least 32 inches in circumference! That was the size of my own waist!! At the same time, his lats flared wide like barn doors, shoving his arms out and back, and revealing the incredible taper down to his amazingly tight waist. He held the pose for many long moments, just flexing his gargantuan guns to the max and allowing the crowd to see and appreciate his awesome torso. 

The muscle monster grinned, struck another bicep pose, and started inflating his arm meat in short successive pumps. Gasps arose as the peak of his bicep rose and swelled in bursts, growing to even greater dimensions. He then strutted over to a set of huge dumbbells, each loaded with 250 pounds, and started effortlessly curling the heavy weights. His biceps continued swelling, with cruel looking veins as thick as fingers appearing, encircling the swollen peaks. 

He threw the dumbbells aside and swaggered over to the Cadillac. The audience murmured as they realized what he intended. He stooped, grasped underneath the enormous car with both hands to find a grip, straightened up...and started curling the car! Up and down. up and down, up and down. Five, ten, twenty reps...his arms exploding with rippling, throbbing, pulsating movement as his arm meat feasted on the chunk of metal. His arms, now pumped to the max, were as hard as concrete and had to be at least 35 or 36 inches in circumference! That was about 10 whole inches bigger than the biggest biceps I had ever seen!! The man was a muscle GOD!! 

I glanced at the men around me and noticed that a few had their hand on their crotches, squeezing and rubbing their hard dicks in appreciation of the awesome spectacle. The muscle man on stage threw down the car with a resounding crash and struck another double bicep pose. The peaks of his biceps now reached the palms of his hand, completely filling the space within his flexed arm. He grunted like an animal, beads of sweat appearing on his glorious and majestic upper body.

Then he pulled out a thick link chain. He casually wrapped it around his neck and padlocked it tightly at the front under his chin. The metal dug into his flesh and his face and neck started turning a dark purple-red as the blood flow was constricted. He paused for several seconds as his face grew darker and darker from the engorged blood. Then suddenly he flexed his neck, straining against the metal links, and the chain broke, fragments flying in every direction. The audience roared. 

To pump his pecs, the giant got on his back and slid under the Caddy. The car lifted up slowly as he started bench pressing it. Down. Up. Down. Up. Down. Twenty reps. Then with a loud roar he flung it up and off to the back of the stage where it toppled over on its side. The man, now a monster bursting with engorged muscles, rose to his feet and flexed his chest toward the audience. The pecs had metamorphosed into huge slabs of throbbing man meat, completely filling the space between his bent flexed arms. The pecs stood 8 or 9 inches thick off his colossal ribcage, rising on each side of his chin. His cleavage could envelop your entire erect cock! Hell it could swallow half a dozen cocks! (Which, indeed, I now fantasized about, sliding my hard dick up and down between his huge, hot, sweaty pecs.) As if reading my mind, this testosterone-drunk stud picked up a 45 pound plate, slid it between his mountainous pec meat, and flexed again. The plate held, suspended between his rock hard pecs! 

Up until now, the behemoth brute had kept his sweatpants on. Large patches of sweat had appeared around his crotch during his physical feats, and I longed to see what he was concealing beneath that damp, baggy cloth. He reached down and loosened the drawstring. The significant bulge in front kept the pants from sliding down until he yanked them off, stepped out of them, and kicked them aside. 

Another gasp from the crowd arose, and two men fainted dead away. 

The impact of his gruesome, gargantuan thighs packed with enormous slabs of muscle was almost lost as we took in the visual impact of the inhuman mass mounted between them. Under his sweatpants were black posing trunks, stretched tightly over his round, insanely muscular butt and straining to envelope a set of male sex equipment the size and weight of a bowling ball, drooping down halfway to his knees. He turned sideways and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, proudly displaying his colossal package of manhood. More cries of lust burst from the whacked-out audience. The side view of his pecs was awesome: the tight pumped chest muscles were like hard rubber jutting up and out, so solid they hardly moved as he bounced his heroic, lycra-encased endowment.

As this muscular beast had bit by bit revealed his unbelievable body parts, I continued to estimate his massive measurements -- neck 30 inches, shoulder girth 48 inches (yes, that’s four whole FEET wide!), chest 75 inches, biceps (cold) 32 inches, biceps (pumped) 36 inches, waist 36 inches (the size of his waist was influenced by the sheer thickness of the muscles of his lower back, so that from the front he looked even more slender than 36 inches). My senses were already reeling as I now absorbed his lower build. His thighs must be in excess of 40 inches cold, deeply striated, so heavily packed with muscle that it seemed to sag around his knees. Shit! Thighs so much thicker than his waist were mind-numbing! His monstrous calves looked like a pair of footballs, only much, much bigger. I reasoned that the "MM" on his ill-fated sweat shirt must mean Muscle Man, Monster Male, Muscle Monster, or some such combination. I guessed that this destroyer must weigh well over 400 pounds! That’s more than 100 pounds heavier than the biggest super heavyweight bodybuilder!! God only knew the dimensions of the cruel-looking equipment between his legs! 

Then as he stood there he started flexing his legs, squeezing the blood into those hypertrophic slabs. The already unbelievable mass of his tree-trunk thighs started growing and thickening before our eyes as he continued squeezing his leg beef. The slabs of muscle grew outward and lifted upward until they had nowhere to go, reaching 46 inches in girth. The guy was so packed he could not keep his legs together; instead, he had to straddle them outward, his feet almost a yard apart. 

He turned sideways again. His man meat, still tenuously encased in the stretched, straining fabric of his jock sling, was lifted high by the swelling of his thighs. The monster stud grinned at the audience and jerked his crotch upward in a series of seductive thrusts. The obviously heavy, sperm-packed balls bounced off his tight thighs. Several men, who by now had their cocks out of their pants and were desperately whacking off, lost their load at this incredible sight. I felt my own pre-cum wet against my skin.

But the show didn't end there! No, not by a long shot! 

The muscle master, by now totally pumped to superhuman size and girth, swaggered over to the row of metal drums, lying on their side. He straddled the first one with his massive thighs and squeezed. The metal drum groaned, deformed, and collapsed like cardboard! 

A squirt of something hot and sticky hit me on the back of the neck as the guy behind me shot his load, muttering "Fuck, oh bloody fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" Others came too, and one could see streams of man-juice leaping into the air from the sensory-overloaded men, who were groaning and yelling at the spectacle. 

The human trash compactor on stage mounted each metal drum in turn and one by one they were reduced to pathetic piles of crumpled tin foil. The last one he lifted and held it between the palms of his hands parallel to his chest. Suddenly contracting his mighty pec muscles he squeezed, and within seconds the drum was flattened to just a few inches thick. Roars rose from the crowd.

The floor of the small auditorium was becoming slippery with the quarts of cum shot from the male audience members, wild with desire. A group of men had congregated towards the front, reaching on-stage in worship of the incredible muscle man, begging him to take them, fuck them, piss on them, degrade them, anything. Some were drooling, others had fainted. 

One more feat of manhood awaited. The school bus. 

None of us in our wildest dreams could envision what was about to happen. 

The Muscle God, now sweating and pulsing with distended veins and pumped body parts, parading his male ego like the stud he was, strode aggressively up to the bus as if he were going to fuck it into oblivion. He climbed on top of the vehicle and straddled it with his legs, anchoring his heels on the ridge line of the roof. Gasps of disbelief arose as his intent became clear. Like a demolition machine, this arrogant muscle beast was going to crush the huge vehicle between his legs.

He took a huge deep breath, his enormous rib cage expanding to an even more colossal size, and started squeezing. His beautiful face and neck slowly became blotchy and purple at the enormous exertion. Cords of muscle and tendons rose in his neck as he flexed his mountainous thighs. His entire body quivered as he focused his strength on the metallic destruction between his legs. His straining neck was now a behemoth column of purple, pulsating distended flesh. The leg muscles grew, convulsed, and strained. For a while nothing happened. He groaned, sweat streaming over his convulsing body in this improbable battle of monster muscle versus manmade object. His legs made jerking movements as they strained against the stubborn sheet metal. 

Then a sound was heard -- a whining screech of fatigued metal slowly increasing in intensity. The audience waited, breathless. The Muscle God was bellowing in deep-voiced agony as his muscles ached and strained. Then a crash was heard as the windshield of the bus imploded. The cabin of the bus was being crushed! Crash after crash was heard as each side window succumbed to the deformation. More and more men ejaculated high into the air as their torqued male frenzy escalated. The Muscle God continued squeezing and screaming and sweating.

Another visible change was occurring. The massive man-bulge mounted between the legs of the Stallion was convulsing and growing. The blood that was rushing to his straining thighs was also pouring into his enormous sex tools. A monstrous shaft the thickness of his massive forearms started lifting up, straining the already weakened fabric of his skimpy posing trunks. The heavy, melon-sized balls were pulsing and swelling, pumping out superhuman quantities of testosterone as they prepared to discharge their load. 

Finally and with a loud snap, the black posing trunks exploded from the overwhelming volume of his equipment, releasing his awesome cock and thunderous balls. Several in the audience screamed. The dark purple head of the superhuman man pole was enormous, larger than a huge fist - no human orifice could hope to accommodate its bulk. The thickly veined shaft continued expanding until the cock head was level with his monstrous pecs, and began throbbing with the stud’s mighty heartbeat. The muscle stud’s balls were truly legendary, the size of ripe cantaloupes, and so heavy that they hung down at least three inches, resting on the crumpling surface of the school bus. As his prick swayed back and forth during his continuing exertion, pre-cum from his sperm factory was smeared across his chest, leaving wide slimy trails of clear glistening fluid.

With a load crash, the top of the school bus finally surrendered to the muscular persuasion of this determined Superman. With a final roar of agony and triumph, his thighs slammed together, crumpling the sheet metal between his knees and crushing it against his mammoth balls, brutally mashing the weighty man fruits and trapping them in the twisted metal. Simultaneously, the slit of his swollen throbbing cock head dilated, and an incredibly thick bolt of man juice shot forth, slapping the ceiling of the auditorium with a gigantic glob of sperm. As he continued compressing the rubble between his beastly thighs, slug after pulsing slug erupted from the amazing reservoir of this superhuman fuck factory, each mighty wad larger than what a normal man could produce in a month. The hyper masculine orgasm seemed never ending, and soon the stage was awash in sticky, milky cum, enough man seed to repopulate the planet ten times over. 

I might have blacked out momentarily at this incredible spectacle. My mind was reeling from this incredible display of hyper muscularity. My unbelieving eyes feasted on a 14 or 15-inch man tool, and titanic balls larger than coconuts. What would it be like to have sex with this God, to have those mighty thighs and arms wrapped around you? Would his fist-sized cock head break your jaw? Would one strangle from the onslaught of cum pumping down your throat and into your stomach from those enormous testicles? How would it feel being impaled on that thick pole? Would it tear a person apart? 

The Muscle God jumped down from the crushed bus, thick wads of cum still belching from his rock-hard fuck pole. With a final act of contempt toward the crippled object, he swaggered over to the door of the vehicle and, with bare hands and barely an effort, ripped it off its hinges. The audience was now gasping on complete overload. He held the sides of the door between the palms of his hands like an accordion and squeezed. The door immediately crumpled into debris, and simultaneously, another thick glob of cum shot from his still-throbbing manhood. He tossed the scrap metal aside. 

Finally, triumphantly strutting out to the edge of the stage, this untiring Sex Stud starting to beat his meat out toward the audience. His shaft was so incredibly thick that he used both hands in unison, stroking up and down, his massive arm and chest muscles bulging heroically with each stroke. Despite the huge volume of cum already expelled, his elephant bull balls rose to the occasion once again. He flexed every muscle in his body, his chest expanded, his diaphragm rose, his abdomen hardened, and with a yelp of pleasure and triumph, the slit of his inhumanly huge prick head opened wide, and a thick stream of hot milky liquid shot out over the eager audience. For several long minutes, jet after jet bathed the men's faces, drenching the audience in buckets of white-hot cum, shooting with such force that it nearly reached the back rows of the auditorium. 

Then he was gone and the show was over.

With a final shudder of physical sensation, I stood up on shaky legs and prepared to leave, noticing for the first time that my cock had spontaneously shot a huge messy load into my jeans. I quickly realized, however, that no one else in the audience was moving toward the door. The man next to me, bathed in sweat and stud cum, was wiping his face and stuffing his now-flaccid dick into his pants. I asked him why no one was leaving. 

"The next show starts in 15 minutes," he replied. "The guy is a 19-year-old college student, and is working his way through school by performing here every weeknight and most weekends. He does a variety of shows, usually performing 5 or 6 times a night. You might want to sit back down, as that was just his first show of the evening..."

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