New Story: The Shortcut, Part 1

[JP71]

[COLOR=gray]This is something I messed around with cos I couldn't sleep. Might go somewhere with it: enjoy....[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]The Shortcut Part 1[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]There was no other way out of the bunker. I knew that if I were ever to see the light of day again, I would have to get bigger. The walls were six feet thick, concrete reinforced with tungsten girders. A hundred elephants might be able to do it, or else one of me... Todd Emery, world’s strongest muscleman. But not strong enough. Not yet, anyway. I was going to have to bodybuild my way out. It was all that I knew how to do.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]Let me put a context into this, although words were never my forty... or is it forte? Who cares?[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]Professor Maximillian LeStrange, for all that he looked and behaved like some Bond-esque megalomanic, was actually an okay fellah. We all knew that the bombs were dropping. It was 2012, the year that the Mayan calendar ran out, that the mysterious Planet Nibiru (or Planet X) was purported to be entering the solar system once again on its 12,000 year cyclic rotation, passing close enough to the sun to cause a massive solar flare to burn up the Earth’s atmosphere and set the planet’s poles to utter reversion, the same year that the antichrist would be revealed (my money’s still on Joan Rivers)... et cetera et cetera. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]I never believed any of that crap. I can’t recall who was to blame, really, North Korea or a trigger-happy dissident hothead from behind the Chinese Curtin who happened to get his hands on some very nasty nuclear launch codes. Whatever caused it, the world ended on December 19th 2012, five years ago this very week. And thanks to Professor LeStrange one Todd Emery survived. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]The bunker had been one of several the billionaire scientist had had commissioned in private, part of his ADAM Utopia Initiative. It was his way of preserving all that was great about the human race. In one bunker there would be females for breeding stock purposes, mostly lesbians, but stay with me on this. Maximillian (let’s just refer to him as Max from here on)... Max believed that heterosexuals had fucked up the world, and maybe he was correct in his thinking, I dunno. I wouldn’t call myself an expert on humanity. But in his post-nuclear holocaust utopia, gay men would inherit the earth, with occasional but mandatory breeding privileges with the more athletic of the dykes. You see... the future Human Race would have a great deal of adversity to overcome, so it made sense to have it as healthy and resilient as possible.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]My bunker was meant to be extra special, for I was the Alpha Male, wired up to a series of contraptions that allowed me to tap into the untold reserves of brain power that most humans allow to go to waste. Mind over body was the future bodybuilding catalyst that would make men into superman... nay ultra-supermen. I was one such ultra... a bodybuilding archetype for a new future. Unfortunately in order to block out so much mental static from my subterranean compatriots I had to be in isolation for at least a year. I was okay with that, Max’s billions ensured that my underground tomb was anything but a tomb. It was fully air-conditioned, using a recycling system that gave me constant fresh air and clean water. It had hydroponics and a farm manned by hunky young studs that I constantly turned to for sexual stimulation, not to mention plenty of hot muscle worship and even hotter sex. They saw me as their god, and I was completely okay with that. But cabin fever, even though I had access to twenty-five thousand square feet of space, gets you in the end. Five years of being stuck in the one place, even though it was as idyllic as money could make it, was too horrid to bear. I didn’t want to lose my mind, because if I did, there was no telling what a man of my size, strength and power was capable of doing.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]I have to sleep soon, but let me tell you a little about a typical day for me.[/COLOR]
[COLOR=gray]I wake up at 7am every day, at least I think it’s 7am. Very hard to tell the time of day when all you have to look at are artificial computer-generated vistas tricking you into thinking there is a savoury world beyond so many sterile windows. I spend a good hour or so posing in front of the many mirrors throughout the complex. I need to see myself constantly, to remind myself just how amazing, how... oh God.... fuck yeah.... how unbelievably huge I am. But not huge enough. I need to get way bigger if I’m to stand a chance of breaking out of here, digging through the collapsed tunnel that connects with the other “vaults”, and finally reintegrating myself into Max’s incredible collective: all gay men, all athletes, thinkers, scientists, doctors... you name it... he has ‘em all. And let’s not forget the lesbians.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]Back to me and my muscles..... damn! I’m overwhelmed. Fuck this recollecting for now, I’ll get back to it later. Right now we are all in need of some incredible muscle action. Let me introduce you to Peter, one of my “boys” who tends farm over in Sector Eight. His speciality is bovine maintenance. But he is so pretty to the eyes, blonde haired, bronze skin and blue eyes... your typical California surfer dude-type. I never allow my guys to wear anything but faded, ripped Levis jeans. They go shirtless throughout their working days, and then after... they wear nothing at all. Peter is my favourite. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Come to me, hot stuff.”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Sure Todd.”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“You like what you see as I tense up my arms before you?”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“I’m so boned for you right now, Todd.” Peter is enthusiastic and angelic, but the sexiest, by far, of all my guys.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Describe what you see before you, Peter... height, weight, the whole deal.”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“You seem taller today, much bigger than yesterday, Todd.” Peter is massaging his ball-sack through his jeans as he speaks. His super-trim waist seems to emphasise his hips and what he has between them. His Levis always seem to tent out at the front. My cock twitches at the merest thought of him.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“What do you mean “much bigger”? I’ve been working out harder than ever!” My tone is vehement. Peter – although my golden boy – must know his place and never say things that disappoint me.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Sorry Todd. You aren’t much bigger... you’re a LOT more than much bigger,” corrects Peter.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“That’s better. Look at my flexing biceps... each bigger than your head.... get over here and start doing things to them... and to yourself as you go.”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Fuck yes... I can’t even get my hands around those thick, muscled mounds. They’re HUGE! Fuck, I’m so jizzing for you any minute, Todd!” [/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]Peter’s gorgeous, toned chest is heaving now, his breathing excited, becoming more so. And this is just the beginning. He’s squeezing my massive flexed biceps as I hold the pump in each. His fingers can’t dent the muscle, diamond-hard muscle that keeps getting bigger, harder..... STRONGER!!!!! It’s not enough to break out yet, but I’m getting there. I continue to flex a double biceps, forcing more blood to flow into veins that never seem to be too engorged. They squirm and pulsate like great leeches under my skin, but this is not an unattractive image, rather the contrary. My striations and vascularity are unprecedented... and I can only get bigger, stronger and better looking.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“You upper arms have easily passed thirty-two inches, Todd. That’s amazing.” Peter’s boner is now more pronounced. His cock easily passes ten inches hard. He is meant to be part of a new race of man, and these men will always be proud of their peckers. No place for needle-dicks here. Of course, my cock easily surpasses his by at least five more inches. And it’s still growing in proportion with my massively muscular body.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“How thick is your chest Peter?”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“You already know my dimensions, Todd!”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Tell me again,” I growl, demandingly. He must oblige. There is no free will in my bunker. I won’t allow it, for I am cocky to a fault; I am the Alpha... the biggest... the strongest... the GREATEST!!![/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“My chest is a slim thirty-eight, Todd. I have a slender but very attractive fit body,” Peter tells me.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“You think I can get my biceps up past thirty-eight, bigger than your fucking chest?”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Unnngh,” pants Todd, his massive trouser-snake threatening to pop the buttons on his fly and spit precum all over his muscle master. “Of course you can... and then you can get them even bigger.”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]Hearing this causes me to beam with delight, growl in a most-masculine way, and flex harder, causing more blood to fucking scream into my biceps with such pressure and velocity. My bicep cannons explode with deadly force. Both biceps grow even more. I can’t believe this growth. It’s incredible. I bring my arms down to my side and then place knuckles on either side of me, above my hips. I burst out a massive lat-spread, my body transforming, bulging upwards and outwards into a gigantic delta of rock hard, mesmerizingly defined muscle flesh. I bend my head backwards so that my neck thickens and thickens, cords bulging out of it as I need to get my chin out of the way so my upper pec-shelf can thicken and expand. All the while I do this, Peter’s hands are forcibly working their way across my chest, fingertips rising and falling in and out of multiple thick and deep striations. They linger around my sensitive nipples, teasing the buds bigger and harder. They redden from his touch and from so much blood nurturing them.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Go down along my massive torso. Tell me what you’re feeling,” I bark.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“It’s like nothing else on Earth, Todd. Your body is Utopia. You must be easily 800 lbs or more. But you need to be over 1000 lbs to stand a chance of getting us out of there. I feel tiny before you, my god. But you must get bigger... make me feel tinier, more insignificant. Make me want to worship you even more!”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“I give the orders, not you, runt!”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Sorry Todd. It won’t happen again.”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“What’s my abs like?”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Harder than concrete... a perfect ten-pack, striations deep enough to hide coins in, if coinage meant anything these days.”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Gotta get them bigger, harder... way more defined. I need to hide saucers in them, not coins.”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“You will, my god. You will!”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Remove my pants!” I, too, wear Levis, only modified, by our in-house tailors, for no ordinary pair would come close to fitting me. My waist is thirty-four inches, but my thighs, each, are almost forty-one around. My tailors do excellent work.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]Peter gets down on his knees and begins to unbutton my jeans, relieving some of the pressure in front of my swelling genitals. I never wear underpants; there never seems to be enough room for my junk if I do. I haven’t washed since my last workout. My scent down there is warm, cloying. Peter recoils a little as a cloud of my musk affronts him briefly. Then he accepts it. My trouser snake uncoils before him, easily springing to attention.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Fuck... it’s bigger, thicker than it was last time we did this.” Peter looks worried. Will he be able to take all this meat in its entirety? My snake-head is already leaking its venom, only my venom doesn’t poison... it invigorates.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Take my dick into your mouth... gorge on its massiveness.”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“I will...er... gag violently, Todd.”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Do you best not to,” I snarl.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]Peter does as he’s told, his hand groping me from behind, just about able to work its fingers into the deep crack between two massive muscle-mounds that form my bubble-ass. With his other hand he works at his own impressive member, all the while deep-throating me to the best of his ability. He moans with bliss, breathing through his nose in an attempt to maintain a steady supply of oxygen.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Unngh feels so good, Peter. You are taking all of my muscle-meat. Good man!”[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Akkkk....ghhhhhk,” he returns, unable to speak for now. I am content to hear those sounds as he struggles to please me. But there is just so much to me... I’m constantly growing, the hugest bodybuilder ever, about to get even huger. [/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]“Aw man... you know how to....gasp... please your master,” I almost scream, as his teeth scrape along the shaft of my so-thick cock, his tongue near-constantly assaulting the sensitive buds around the skirt of the mushroom head. It throws my senses into utter reverie. I cry out, guttural, masculine... dominant. Precum dribbles in constant miniature rivers out of Peter’s mouth, squeezed from each corner. Soon he is kneeling in a small pool of the stuff. I know that as soon as I cum for real, that I will experience a vital growth spurt. How much I grow depends on how well Peter succeeds at pleasing me.[/COLOR]

[COLOR=gray]More to cum.... [COLOR=yellow]Part 2 here[/COLOR][/COLOR]

[tom256]

A very good and hot story JP! A unique story line and a huge hot muscle scene, I'm really liking it up to now. Hope you post the next part soon

[arpeejay]

What a pleasant surprise for an early Tuesday morning! Many thanks!

xoxo

Richard

[Mad Dog]

Love the idea of a bodybuilder with total power over a facility of studs and with nothing better to do but to GROW! :3

[muscl4life]

That's a very impressive scenario you have developed there dude. Beats the hell out a lot of "Doomsday" movies.

Congratulations, keep up the great work.

On a side note...I am curious to see what kind of obstacles Todd will have to overcome with his ever growing muscles

Cheers

[michaelv2]

Great start to the apocalypse. I can hardly wait for chapter 2!