Musclegod Island

[V.R.Goh]

I could not believe that such a place existed, yet the proof was before my eyes. Recently, a new island was found in the South Pacific. What was surprising was the island showed no trace of harmful influence by European explorers. Not only that, but the average male inhabitant of this island was twice as thickly muscled as the average man in the "civilized" world. One would think that, if white explorers from that era had found this island, they would have taken the locals as slaves and scoured the place for gold and precious stones. Instead, according to oral tradition, the explorers who found this place never left; they joined the inhabitants of the island, adding their culture to the existing one.

No crime existed on the island, so there was no need for law enforcement. In fact, the native language of the island did not have words for concepts like "crime," "police," or "jail." Everyone was so friendly and the place was so idyllic, it was no wonder that the explorers who found this place didn't leave; no one would want to leave a place named after the ancient Greek islands reserved for the blessed dead: Elysium Island.

I had first heard about Elysium Island from a friend who grew tired of the hell his life had become. Supposedly, one could buy a ticket to Elysium and live out the rest of one's days there. Of course, most of the people who travel there visit for two weeks and lament coming back. However, a few decide that they want to stay.

My own life was not very ideal; instead it had been hellish up to this point. My parents divorced when I was young. They never loved each other anyway; Dad just wanted to have a son in order to continue the family line, and Mom just wanted his money. To this day, I regret being named Alexander James Robeson III, so I just go by A.J. I had no one in my life, and I was fed up with everything. So, I bought a one-way ticket to Elysium and never looked back.

[V.R.Goh]

The tickets to Elysium do not come cheap; a round-trip ticket plus hotel accomodations to the island will set you back nearly $2000. However, a one-way trip to this island paradise is $300. Not only that, but a home on Elysium was not very expensive; the average home there is a fraction of the price of a home here in the States. With my affairs in order, I bought the ticket that would bring me to Elysium.

The trip to Elysium involved a commercial flight to Honolulu. From there, a sea plane ferried visitors to Elysium Island. For the short time I was in Hawaii, I remembered the whole "birther" conspiracy. (Author's note: For those that don't know, the "birther" conspiracy refers to the belief that President Barack Obama was born, not in Hawaii, but in Kenya. Because of this, people who believed in this conspiracy, called "birthers," concluded that Obama was not legally the President, since the U.S. President has to be a natural-born citizen. This has since been proven false with the presentation of his full birth certificate.) I decided to forget it, since that was part of my old life. No one knew who I was on Elysium, as far as I knew, so the island paradise was the perfect place to start over. When I arrived at the small airport that would take me to Elysium, I took one last look at Hawaii. As beautiful as the island was, I was leaving it behind, along with my old life. I walked to the sea plane, not looking back at American soil for a moment, and boarded the plane to Elysium.

The quaint dock on Elysium was the first thing I saw of the island when the plane landed. The travel agency knew that I was coming to the island to stay, so they informed me that someone would help me with my luggage. I didn't have a lot of bags, since I sold most of my belongings. Nevertheless, I was surprised to see the one-man welcoming committee.

He looked to be about 23 years old, but was easily more massive than any twenty-something I have seen in my life, myself included. Were he so inclined, he could enter an American bodybuilding contest and blow even the super-heavyweights out of the water. His wardrobe consisted of a pāreu, a loincloth-like garment that I have seen in Tahiti, wrapped around his waist like a short skirt. His jet-black hair cascaded in natural waves across his broad shoulders and expansive chest. He looked as though he had spent his entire life in a gym, building a body that was the envy of many and the object of lust for women and gay men. Being bisexual, I found him to be nearly orgasm-inducing on sight.

[V.R.Goh]

My gargantuan guide introduced himself as Malcolm. If he asked me to, I would have gladly addressed him as "Master." His was a physique that I have always wanted to have, but could not easily obtain. I'm fairly scrawny, carrying only 125 pounds on a 5'8" frame, but standing next to Malcolm made me look even more like a pre-pubescent boy. I estimated his height at about 6'4" tall, and figured that he must be at least 300 pounds of dense muscle. If it weren't obvious that he must be very strong, his next actions proved it.

"Let me help you with your things," he said in unaccented English. Grabbing the handle of my trunk with one hand, a trunk that required two people to load into the plane, he lifted it into the air with one hand without a visible sign of strain. I had to shake my head so I would not stand there slack-jawed as he displayed his superior strength. As we walked up the pier toward the van that would take me to my new home, I figured now would be a good time to answer some lingering questions about this island.

"So, Malcolm," I began, "is everyone on this island as big as you, or are you the exception?"

"More like the rule," he responded. "Believe it or not, I'm pretty average for an Elysian. I've seen bigger guys here, but usually people tend to be more or less my size. How long are you staying?"

"The rest of my life," I said. "I got tired of life in the States and decided that I would rather spend my days in paradise. Hopefully, I'll get as big as you while I'm here. It seems like every guy here could be a bodybuilder."

"Trust me," Malcolm said with a knowing smile. "With the food here, you'll definitely put on a lot of muscle. Some scientists found a chemical of some kind in the food that's grown on this island. It lets a person put on muscle like it's going out of style. And it's not just in the produce; it gets into the meat as well. I know this one guy who moved here from the States two years ago. When he got here, he was about your size. He managed to double his bodyweight inside of six months." Immediately, I pictured myself weighing 250 pounds with nary a shred of bodyfat and my cock, half-hard from the muscular Malcolm's amazing physique, was fully erect and throbbing.

"I have to ask," I said. "How big are you?"

"Well," he answered, "right now I'm 6'3" tall and I weigh about 345 pounds. I'm hoping to get bigger, maybe break 400 by the end of the year." Considering that he just told me of a guy who doubled his weight in muscle in six months, putting on at least 55 pounds sounded like something that could be done in three months. Then, his expression changed to that of someone with an idea.

"Say, I know" he exclaimed. "Why don't I help train you? I'll workout with you, and help you with the diet. You'll be a beast in no time."

"Buddy, you've got yourself a deal," I agreed. Thus, my life on Elysium Island began with promises of muscle godhood.

[msllover]

Awesome, this looks extremely promising.

[V.R.Goh]

Throughout the entire process of moving my few belongings into my new home, I had to keep all of my focus on what I was doing. Otherwise, my attention would drift straight to Malcolm and his impossibly muscular physique. I was glad that he held the box that contained my dishes, because I would have dropped it while watching his bulging biceps ripple like the waves of the Pacific as he made the heaviest of packages seem like it was filled with styrofoam. I kept my mind on the task at hand, ignoring my raging erection as much as I could. Finally, after about an hour of work, I was fully moved in.

"Thanks for the help, Malcolm," I said, grateful that he was as strong as he looked. "It probably would have taken me twice as long if I did it alone."

"No problem, A.J.," he responded nonchalantly. "How about we start training tomorrow? I wanna spend today putting together a diet and exercise regimen for you." We agreed that training would start tomorrow morning. With that, we said our goodbyes and Malcolm headed for his own home.

As soon as he was out of sight, I breathed a sigh of relief. If the move-in had taken longer, I was going to jump his bones right there. I went straight to the bathroom, stripping my clothes off along the way. The moment I got into the spacious shower, I started going to town on my cock, now pumped crimson with blood. The whole time, I thought of Malcolm. I imagined the way his pecs rippled when he hoisted my trunk on the pier. I pictured how his biceps bulged obscenely and how his back resembled a topographical map. I saw his adamantine bubble butt as he lead the way into the house. I imagined the things I wanted to do to his body. I would give him the worship he so richly deserved. To me, he was the paradise of this island, my dream come true. Not only that, he said that he could make me as big as him. Just the mental image of him alone was enough to make me cum.

I spent the next two hours jerking off to his hyper-masculine glory and the possibilities of possessing a body like his. It was as if fate took the muscles of a bodybuilder, the muscle tone of a martial artist, the strength of a powerlifter, the good looks of a fitness model, and the equipment of a porn star and combined them into one glorious package. He was more than a muscleman to me; he was a muscle god. The fact that he was considered average here gave me another reason to jack off. There were even bigger muscle gods here. This is what sparked me to give Elysium Island a personal nickname, one I have never told anyone before: Musclegod Island.