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  #1   Add to Massivebdy's Reputation   Report Post  
Old April 28th, 2012, 02:35 PM
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Hey Guys,
I actually wrote this story when I was about 15 years old, and I haven't changed a word. I never did finish it, but I thought it was a really unique idea. Inspired by watching Ben Hur (extra points to those who get the reference). I've always liked stories that were a bit different.
Hope you enjoy...



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"Why my family has been breeding showmen for generations," boasted the overweight, bon bon eating owner, who was sprawled out on the middle of a velvet covered chaise lounge as he addressed the young visitor from the local press.

"Our line of purebreds are simply the best," he went on. "We've had the national champions every year for decades. Everyone knows the reputation of the Malokee house. The best Alibasters to be found anywhere in the world. It's common knowledge, quite undisputed I assure you."

"Alibasters?," the visitor asked.

"Yes, 'Alibasters'. Irish Caucasians really, but everyone calls the breed Alibasters. I have four that I keep here in the house; all champions in their divisions. My pride and joy is named Master's Pride, he comes from a long distinguished line. His father was one of the best ever and when we put him out to stud after his competition days ended, well we made quite a fortune off of him. Master's Pride hasn't hit his peak yet, but, perhaps this will be his year. Then there's Daddy's Boy, Steadfast II and Centurion. He's a bit young still, but I must admit is quickly becoming my new favorite, though I try not to let the others see it, they get so jealous for my attention!" The heavy man rolled on his side to adjust his kaftan and reach for another candy.

"Centurion!," he called out in a sing song voice, "Here boy, daddy wants you here."

He turned to his guest and began to explain, "This is one of the finest Alibasters in the world today?" and with those words a man walked into the room, naked but for a small stainless steel jock strap, bolted and locked around his waist with a prominent key hole just above the center of the codpiece. His 6'4" body must have weighed nearly 350 pounds without a visible ounce of fat anywhere to be seen, just pure white skin, as clear and perfect as a baby's bottom, silky smooth and hairless, covering the largest most awe inspiring musculature that the stunned visitor had ever seen.

"Here's my baby now," the breeder patted the sofa by his feet. "Come sit by daddy precious." The Alibaster unquestioningly obeyed.

"Where do we begin?," the owner asked his guest rhetorically as he casually petted the muscular wide back beside him. "Of course you remember your history and the viral infection of 2122. It swept through the animal population and within five years of it's onset every known breed of dog and cat had died. In two more years every horse breed became extinct. Racetracks, the great profit makers of their days lay empty. The rich lost a favorite amusement as well as the pets they dotted on? somewhere back then it all began. No one can remember that long ago the exact details of how it all started but the disease was the impetus for this new kind of breeding and once it began it was unstoppable. I read some material on it in the archives, but most information has been passed on by the breeders families from generation to generation."

"And what is the breed like?," the writer asked his host.

"They're really quite remarkable. Fiercely loyal, intelligent, amazingly good proportions, extraordinary muscle mass in the torso and haunches, and then of course that skin. Their true trademark. I'm told that when trainers first worked with them they found greater manageability indoors, and after a few decades the breeds natural fair skin became even more pronounced so they never let them outdoors at all, and this unbelievable white skin became their signature. Quite, quite beautiful," the fat man's fingers pulled away from his pet and reached for another bon bon.

"Like most breeds body hair was deemed unsightly and so it too was bred out of the species, except of course genital hair remains and is groomed off for shows. The thick black hair on their heads and the crystal blue eye color are also the ideal of the breed. When I recall my history I think back to a type of horse once called 'Arabians', all white and quite beautiful to watch? then there was a dog species, I believe they were called 'Greyhounds', sleek, narrow hipped to the point of exaggeration and yet enormous powerful shoulders and nothing but muscle visible beneath their skin. Alibasters seem very much the same, wouldn't you agree?"

"Indeed," the reporter nodded, using his notepad to hide the growing erection that strained the confines of his pants as he looked at the champion pet being lovingly stroked by his master.

-----------------------------------


"Come here Lover," the sweet faced young man addressed his 23 year old Alibaster, born just a year before he was. "We need to see how close we are. This just has to be our year!"

Lover smiled and wiped the sweat from across his enormous muscular porcelain white chest. He looked adoringly into the eyes of the young man who pulled out a tape measure and started reading off each dimension.

"Waist, still 24 inches. Chest seems to be 73 and a half, hmmm, that's better. Arms 28, neck 24 at ear point, 27 at base, oh that's perfect. Thighs 36, calves 24? The young man walked around the 6'7" Alibaster appraising the details. "The glutes need deeper striations. The hamstrings are much better, and you did get those calves up and peaking perfectly. Back looks good at the base, lat tie-ins are just right, traps, they're perfect too. Chest, well I can't believe the chest this week, you've made me so proud. The man dug his fingers into the thick, luxurious head of silvery, near white, blond hair and pulled the handsome head backward. He looked at the pronounced square jawline and let his tongue slide along it to the clefted chin where he sucked a moment on the hairless face before moving his lips up onto the thick, sensuous, nearly white mouth.

------------------------------------

"My Centurion's been such a good boy today," the fat owner said while stroking the bowling ball sized deltoids of his favorite pet who laid beside him on the lounge, accepting the praise greedily.

"Have you been training hard today?," he asked in a high pitched voice usually reserved for small children. The Alibaster nodded his beautiful big blue eyed face. "Well daddy wants to see."

The Alibaster rose up off the divan, his gigantic muscles twitching in anticipation of his owner's command.

"Flexibility."

The white stud arched gracefully backwards into a "u" shape until his palms touched flat on the ground behind his ankles, then effortlessly his soles left the floor and slowly the legs came up into a perfect handstand, his body rigid and flawlessly straight up and down, toes pointed to the ceiling. His straight legs then lowered sideways to a full inverted Russian split until his hands pushed off against the ground with a quick burst of power that flipped his entire body one hundred and eighty degrees and he landed right side up, both legs still extended outward in a split that absorbed the great weight of the maneuver.

"Good boy! Now show daddy your muscles one at a time." Centurion contracted his legs drawing them together and rose up off the floor to a standing position, then smoothly he transitioned into a flexing display, tensing each body part one at a time to the indifferent gaze of his master.

"Yes, yes, that's very good Centurion but daddy wants you to work even harder. The show is in five days and we must be ready for it." He reached for the key that he wore on a long silver chain around his neck and motioned the Alibaster to come over to him. He put the key in the keyhole on Centurion's steel jock and gave the device one quarter of a turn. Centurion's beautiful face grimace slightly as the jock became smaller.

"It's the timing of the key turns that's really the secret to it all," the owner told the reporter who was as fascinated now as when the Alibaster had first appeared. "The sexual tension is heightened to such an extreme, the necessary adrenalin release can only be achieved through harder training. My grandfather use to say that prisoners used to experience something like this, being confined with no other diversions or sexual release they turned to exercising for physical release. Well that's a primitive example I'm sure, but you can see Centurion has been responding wonderfully this year. His growth has been most impressive, worthy of Master's Pride. Both from the same bloodlines you know."

Turning back to look at Centurion he instructed, "I think you shant join the others in my bedroom tonight, my sweet. Not until you work harder. You sleep in the kennels tonight with the fledglings. And no sulking." Centurion's head fell downward in disappointment as the huge muscled man unconsciously scratched at the the steel straps cutting into the back of his legs.

--------------------------------------

"Lover, come back to bed! I want my favorite pet beside me to keep me warm," the boyish young man laughed.

"Your 'favorite' pet, you mean your only pet," the white mountain of perfectly formed flesh corrected as he pulled back the covers and slid into bed alongside his young owner. "Your devastatingly handsome, loyal, faithful, obedient and horny pet needs to have his back rubbed," the gorgeous naked hunk commanded his owner.

"Then I think this will need a little attention next," he added, holding his thick heavy dick in his strong hand, playfully shaking the loose unshackled member at the man that the truly did love faithfully, loyally and obediently and who he planned to win the show for in five days time.

--------------------------------------

"Look at my babies working so hard, aren't they spectacular!," the fat man beamed as he escorted his guest through the training yard.

"Spectacular is an understatement," the reporter complimented sincerely. "Of course I heard of 'showmen', I've seen a few of the breeds before, but I never really followed it. I must say they remind me of those? oh, what were they called, something a century or so ago, body something. Body makers?, or builders, yes, that was it, bodybuilders. They were normal men who spent hours every day lifting huge iron weights and all sorts of odd machines to develop these sort of puffy, big muscles. And drugs, they needed all sorts of drugs and things to help them develop those. Somehow when I first saw your Alibasters I thought they must have done something like that to look the way they do. I mean they're just so extraordinary!"

"Well that's what breeding is all about my dear! These gorgeous creatures are born this way, after generations and generations of improving and refining. Their training is not to build up their bodies really, although they do get bigger towards showtime from all the exertion, but we don't measure these things or anything, I mean there's no point to that. It's all in the eye. A good judge spots proportions right off. And that's always the hardest part of the show, those tense first hours of being looked over and checked in the parading. That's tough. But it's really the exhibition time when my babies shine!"

The breeder was beaming now, thinking about past shows. "When their restraints get unlocked and the arena calls to them? oh wait until you see, it is something! Last year Master's Pride's erection was the biggest one there, a regular harpoon. Oh wait, wait until the exhibition."

---------------------------------------

"Just three more sets of ten and your done Lover," the young man kissed his beautiful huge Alibaster's sweaty back, before the giant rose up with some 1500 pounds of iron balanced across his shoulders, the fat iron plates making the thick steel bar sag in the middle as if it were a damp reed.

"For you, four more sets my love," he grunted.

"What a difference our training has made in you this year! You're easily the biggest Alibaster that has ever been seen, or probably ever was for that matter. Your father didn't have the genetics of the Malokee house line, but our work has changed all that. What a surprise old Master's Pride will be in for when he sees you my love."

Rivulets of sweat glistened on the peaks and valleys of the white pumped muscles. "I'm looking forward to the exhibition. We already know I'm going to win this show. No Alibaster has ever been this big, and perfectly proportioned. The shock of my winning will be enough of a scandal, but when the exhibition unfolds we'll really see. I just hope you're right. I do feel stronger."

"Trust me, no Alibaster has ever trained like this before. You're going to rule the day. And don't let me forget, tonight we have to find that damn codpiece! I hope we still have the stupid thing."

Lover reached down and gave his big package a playful shake, "And I hope it still fits. After all, this might have gotten bigger too."

"I wouldn't be at all surprised," the young man laughed as he took his own hardening cock in hand and began stroking it. "Back to work." He proceeded to play with his erection while he watched his entry hoisting the steel plates once again, the humongous, inhumanly muscled gargantuan shimmered like a wet pearl, the white polished slabs of muscle moving the vast amount of weight with relative ease as a rosy pink glow spread over the perfect skin as blood engorged the working muscles.

When his last set was finished, the pleased and pumped Alibaster who'd been looking lovingly at his master lost in pleasure at the sight of his physique, tensed and tightened every muscle that he could, swelling them into heaped mounds of rock hard perfection. The broad shoulders as wide as two normal men side by side, and all the overwhelmingly large muscles of his upper torso tapering down to the insanely narrow 24 inch waist and slender hips before exploding back outward into the tree trunk sized quads, perfectly separated and tear dropped masses, forming two ideal legs.

All that inviting muscle, tensing and dancing under the skin, made the young man shoot a stream of thick milky white cum clear across the five feet span between them, splattering across the washboard abdominals. The Alibaster wiped it off with his finger and licked it clean with a smile and lust filled leer.

--------------------------------------------

"Showday, at last. And look at my babies, oh they look glorious, just glorious!," cooed the owner of the four Alibasters predicted to win this years' showmen championship.

"My Centurion has exceeded all my hopes. He and Master's Pride are perfectly matched, they're both so delicious I just don't know which one of the two will win. Daddy's Boy and Steadfast II will take third and fourth, no doubt, but maybe next year the competitive spirit will inspire them a bit more."

"Centurion, come here," the fat man snapped his fingers at the showman entry. "That braid in your hair has loose wisps straying out, it ruins the whole effect, let daddy fix it. Hurry up, the judging will start any minute."

--------------------------------------------

The sweet angel face glowed as the young man looked at Lover, remembering last night when they shaved off his small tuft of pubic hair and laughed together trying to remember how the steel codpiece went together.

"You look so beautiful my love, I am so proud of you already. I don't care what happens today."

Lover looked in the mirror at his sweet boyish owner braiding just two small tendrils along each side of his head. They wanted the unusual, and beautiful, white hair to flow thick and free to cause even more of a sensation. Lover stroked the young man's delicate hands as they worked and turned his head towards him for a last long kiss.

"I plan on winning this today for both of us. For every one I take in the arena, I'm doing this for us, for you my love." Lover held him off the ground as he continued kissing the man he so adored.

---------------------------------------------

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, we now move to the last breed of the day, the much awaited Alibasters!"

Applause filled the showspace as curtains at each entry point opened and the owners stepped out. Each one took a slight bow in turn and then stepped aside to let their entries onstage. Applause continued as each new Alibaster stepped under the lights and the discerning crowd scrutinized each new entry. Eight houses were represented, two entries each from six of them, four from house Malokee and just one from the last.

As the four Malokee entries took the stage a more thunderous applause erupted for the clear favorites, as they strutted out in perfect form. Centurion held his lat spread majestically, his controlled breathing and tension in the muscles exceptional.

O'Neil house was last and Lover stepped out into the lights. Audible gasps were heard everywhere and the applause actually stopped completely. Dead silence. Lover slowly, and with every eye in the place on him, strode regally into the limelight, his entire being commanding the attention of everyone there. Even Master's Pride, a longtime veteran, glanced sideways uncontrollably to look at what had caused the sudden silence.

Lover stopped alongside the two finest entries of Malokee house and clearly, in the immediate side by side comparison that everyone was making, realized Lover was beyond compare. His glowing white hair, extra height and width, size, mass and flawless proportions were apparent to everyone. Lover stood now absolutely still, head staring straight forward, proud and unaffected by the shocking silence.

It ended then as the showspace exploded in a deafening ovation, cheering and whistling, all for Lover, who knew his proud owner was letting the happy sound wash over him as well.

"Ladies and Gentleman," the announcer tried to regain his composure. "Tonight will be a spectacle indeed!"
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  #2   Add to iceman75's Reputation   Report Post  
Old April 28th, 2012, 03:14 PM
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Very nice! A creatively well written story with very cool descriptions. If there's more I would love to see it.
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Only those serious about young muscle need apply. We do accept stories, but let's keep it clean. This is the only place on the web where Ragman's "My Nephew" Stories can be found.
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Old April 28th, 2012, 04:56 PM
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Amazing descriptions of muscular development! I can only think that the Ben Hur reference is to the chariot racing teams and the horses.

Age 15 when you wrote this? Very creative and kinky imagination, young man!
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Old June 2nd, 2012, 11:23 AM
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Pure genius. Awesome!
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Old June 2nd, 2012, 02:01 PM
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I don't know how I missed it before now. Great story!

xoxo

Richard
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Old June 2nd, 2012, 05:52 PM
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Interesting concept, great descriptions, and a fun story. That you wrote this at 15 makes it even more remarkable.

Thanks for sharing,
Jeff
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Old June 3rd, 2012, 12:27 PM
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It's always great to get good feedback, and makes me want to post more stories. I did start writing muscle fiction when I was about 15, long before the internet existed. I had no idea then that others shared my particular fetish for muscle, so I have literally volumes and volumes of old stories that I wrote just for my own amusement, then once the world of computers came into our lives I stopped writing since so much was available from others. If only it didn't take so long to write them all out I'd be posting much more! I have new appreciation for everyone who takes the time to write and share their work.

Thanks again everyone...
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Old June 24th, 2012, 03:25 PM
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Thanks so much for posting a great story and idea!
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