Serial Muscle (Part 5)

[arpeejay]

By Richard Jasper

Part 4: http://www.musclegrowth.org/forum/sh...ad.php?t=17341

Part 3: http://www.musclegrowth.org/forum/sh...ad.php?t=17321

Part 2: http://www.musclegrowth.org/forum/sh...ad.php?t=17315

Part 1: http://www.musclegrowth.org/forum/sh...ad.php?t=17307

* * *

Central Connecticut, 1785

The door of the inn blew open and the Big Man walked in the warm, cozy room, his head nearly brushing the smoke-blackened ceiling beams. The innkeeper hurried over to close the door behind him.

"I'll be needing a room and a meal," the Big Man said.

The innkeeper gulped.

The newly arrived guest was not only extremely tall (As tall as General Washington, I wager, the innkeeper thought) but extremely broad and powerful looking.

"Aye, sir, it's no fit night out for man or beast," the innkeeper said, licking his lips. "And while I have plenty of grub for a traveler, I fear we have nary a room available on a night like tonight."

The Big Man grunted, then pulled out a fat purse.

"Surely the stable...?"

The innkeeper's eyes bulged.

"Oh, surely, sir, the hay loft is warm and clean, if ye don't mind being in with the animals."

The Big Man nodded his head.

"I have come a hundred miles," he said. "And I have another hundred to travel on the morrow. A good night's rest is what I need."

The innkeeper motioned to his nephew, who doubled as a serving boy, bar back, and general handy man for his uncle's establishment.

"Nick," he said. "Take the gentleman's cloak and get him settled in for a bite."

Nick did as his uncle bade him to do. When the Big Man handed him his cloak, Nick gasped in astonishment. The guest was a veritable giant, with shoulders the width of an ox, a chest the size of a prize bull, and arms that appeared to be made of cannonballs.

The Big Man gave Nick an appraising look. The young man was short, slender, and pale, with longish nut brown hair tied back in a little queue. For all his youth and slenderness he was obviously healthy and strong and he filled his white breeches in a manner that showed he was indeed a man, not a boy.

Nick felt his heart begin to race. He had had a few encounters with some of the lads over the years but always brief, unsatisfying, and seemingly pointless. He had always dreamed of meeting a Hercules or a Samson, knowing it was unlikely in this day and age, even in the newly independent United States.

He brought food, plentiful and hearty, over to the Big Man, and listened as his uncle tried to engage him in small talk. The visitor was a man of few words and the words he did deign to share had a slight, Germanic accent. The Big Man saw the innkeeper's expression and answered the question the hosteler dared not ask:

"I mind you take me for a Hessian," he said, "but you'd be wrong to do so. I'm a Dane, here on my king's business."

The innkeeper breathed a sigh of relief.

"And be your name Hamlet then, good sir?" the innkeeper asked, with a wink and a nod.

The Big Man just stared.

"Uh, well, yes," the innkeeper said. "I am needed in the kitchen. Nick here will escort ye to your quarters when ye have finished supping."

As soon as the innkeeper left, the Big Man motioned Nick over and, much to Nick's surprise, engaged in him in conversation, asking about life in the inn (boring), whether he had traveled (no, unfortunately), whether he had fought in the recently concluded war (too young), and whether he had met any other Danes.

"You are the one, good sir," Nick said. "Please, sir, how shall I call you?"

The Big Man chuckled.

"I have forgotten my manners, it seems," he said, extending a hand the size of a Virginia ham. "You can call me Mister Lokesen."

"Locason?" Nick repeated.

The Big Man nodded.

"Close enough."

Nick wound up bringing Lokesen two more plates of food before handing him his cloak and lighting the lantern to take him to the barn. Lokesen followed Nick up the ladder to the hayloft and when Nick turned to head back down his way was blocked by the Lokesen's mountainous form.

"Tell me, young Nick," Lokesen said, doffing his coat and beginning to unfasten his silk shirt. "Have you ever seen a man as large as I am?"

Nick's eyes were bulging. The more Lokesen undressed, the more besotted he became. He had never seen anyone remotely close in size to the Big Man, even the big Hessian mercenaries who had passed through the village more than once.

Nick slowly shook his head.

Lokesen began loosening the laces of his breeches.

"But you've seen men," Lokesen said. "Men undressed, Nick, yes? With nothing between your flesh and theirs?"

Nick licked his lips. He nodded.

"And you know what to with a man, do you not? How to please a man?"

Nick nodded again.

Can this be real? he asked himself. What brings this God to my little village?

"You do," the Big Man said, answering his own and Nick's questions.

Nick's eyes grew larger as he saw the Big Man's cock.

"My God," he said.

"Yes," Lokesen said. "Your God."

And then he took Nick in his arms.

* * *

The next morning the innkeeper found the Big Man's purse on the table where he had supped. His horse was gone and, presumably, the Big Man as well.

Nick had neglected to start the morning fire, or to bring water from the well. The innkeeper began yelling for his nephew. He knew that Nick had, well, yearnings that might get him into trouble but thus far he had managed to do his work and carry his share of the load. His sister's orphan was as close to a son he would ever have.

"Nick," the innkeeper called again. "Nick, goddammit. Where are ye, lad?"

Walking under the hayloft, the innkeeper felt a wet drop land on his nose. He reached up, wiped it, and looked at his finger.

Deep red blood, still relatively warm.

"Nick!"

[More to cum...]

Conclusion: http://www.musclegrowth.org/forum/sh...ad.php?t=17383

[R Chris Cooper]

I think that I liked this story the best. The historical nature of it had me hooked. In the end I recognized that our serial killer is much older than I first thought. Nice touch.

RCC

PS. Or does this enlarged gift run in the family from way back?

[muscleaddict564]

This story has to be the most amazing that I have read since JohnD's story about a tribe of muscle god teens that go from village to village and enslave all the men, sometimes brutally killing them.

Some people might find dark stories such as yours offensive, but I find them very erotic and it feeds my fantasies. You also have balls for posting this and not caring what other people think.

Regards.