Brawn: Leather

[Corwin]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jim looked around, searching for a cloth.

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

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

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

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

"WHAT DO YOU SAY, BOY!"

Jim thought, then said, "Thank you."

"thank you WHAT?!?"

"Thank you, uhm... sir?"

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

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

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

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

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

His master smiled. "Yes. Begin."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're still hard?"

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

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

"No sir."

"No?" His smile faded.

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

"Will that make you cum?"

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

"Then yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Does it matter?" said Adam casually.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Adam smiled.

"Think you can do it?"

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

Adam nodded.

Awesome, can't wait until the next chapter. Thank you.

[arpeejay]

The usual qualms about violins notwithstanding, this is a very good follow up!

rpj

PS:

Megahuge is HOT!

[Corwin]

Yes, megahuge is very hot.

[COLOR=DarkRed]violins[/COLOR]?!? absolute power (and vodka) corrupt absolutely, as we shall see as the story progresses....

[Mad Dog]

Kudos! Leather isn't even really my thing, but I enjoyed reading.

[arpeejay]

Originally Posted by Corwin

Yes, megahuge is very hot.

[COLOR=DarkRed]violins[/COLOR]?!? absolute power (and vodka) corrupt absolutely, as we shall see as the story progresses....

You prefer violas, perhaps?

rpj

who prefers a Sidecar to a Cosmo when it comes to martini selections

[Bull]

First "leather" story I ever liked. Great writing!