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Old June 1st, 2012, 08:54 PM
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Beowulf: Parts 1-4

These are the four current chapters of Beowulf, compiled all into a single, easy-to-read post.



Beowulf

Part 1

"Bring in the visitor!" roared Hrothgar, the just and honorable king of the Danes.

The soldiers nodded and opened the grand, ten-foot tall door. Behind that door stood a man who took nearly seven of those ten feet with his height. He stepped in, a handsome, boyish grin decorating his light brown face. The youth bowed down when he was within three yards of the king.

Hrothgar felt a strange sense of familiarity emitting from this man, but his mind brought no immediate answers to him. So he commanded, "State your name and your motive."

The man nodded and spoke, his voice surprisingly deep for someone with such a young appearance. "I am Beowulf, son of the warrior Ecgtheow, who owes you his service for the favors your kingdom has done for him in the past. I am here to repay his debt by defeating the one who has caused torment for your people, the monster Grendel."

Memories of Beowulf returned to Hrothgar, but as a small baby, not as the valiant, powerful dark-eyed man he saw before him now. Since the day Hrothgar had last seen him, the king had heard many tales of Beowulf's journeys as a warrior hero of both immense strength and unsurpassable wit. "I remember your father with fondness, son of Ecgtheow, and accept your help to defeat Grendel with the most sincere appreciation. But I must wonder; how do you expect to defeat a monster who has slain every other hero he has greeted? "

Beowulf's full lips spread into a confident smile. "With these, of course."

The hero raised his right arm and flexed. Where an armored sleeve stood one second, a mass of pure bicep muscle stood the next, ripping through fabric and steel with almost a mocking ease. The bicep pulsed as blood flowed through his veins, bulging and undulating with the power held inside. The teen rolled his wrist, letting the spherical muscle swell further, growing until it was nearly the height of his rippling forearm. When it seemed that the warrior could make the muscle grow no further, he turned his neck to the king and smiled.

"I am not any mere hero. I am the strongest hero in the world, the most powerful man who has ever lived. No weapon man or god has created can rival the force of my biceps. My fists are more devastating than any swords or spear, and I can throw boulders with greater range and deadlier aim than a bow. If I cannot defeat this demon, then nothing can."

The king looked at the adolescent's impossibly huge arms and gulped. He did not know what could defeat Grendel, but if the tales of the legendary strength inside Beowulf's cannonball-like biceps were even partially true, then perhaps Heorot still had a chance...

---

Night approached. The people within the hall of Heorot waited patiently, nervously, for the inevitable arrival of Grendel. Beowulf had chosen to fight without weapons or armor; a choice that made half of the men confused and the other half horny. A faint rustle could barely be heard as Beowulf tensed his biceps in anticipation? but then it got louder, and noisier, and then the sound of the monster's footsteps outside of the hall were replaced with the cacophonous roar of Grendel as he burst through the door and the desperate, womanly cries of soldiers as they tried to flee from the monster.

Beowulf was the only one who did not move. His gorgeous brown eyes glared intently at the monster, observing its every move, never backing away or showing fear. Grendel, ten feet tall and having the appearance of some sort of disgusting fusion of man and hellhound, was too busy grabbing an unfortunate soul and tearing is limbs off to notice the bold youth's arrogant display. After devouring his fleshy meal, the monster turned for the nearest man. That man was Beowulf. And unlike the other mortals, Beowulf showed no terror.

Grendel, enraged at the presumed challenge to his superiority, attacked the nude warrior, swinging a massive arm that could have crushed stone walls and toppled fortresses with a single blow. But Beowulf raised his own muscled arm; not as an act of fear, but as an act of aggression. The monster's limb collided with Beowulf's and, to Grendel's shock, stopped.

The monster cried, the bones of his arm injured from the unexpected impact with a limb far too dense for his own arm to overcome. While Grendel stumbled about sobbing in pain, Beowulf acted quickly, wrapping both of his arms around Grendel's own. Though the monster had over three feet on the handsome naked warrior, Beowulf's strength was superior to any creature who walked the planet, and he crushed the arm within his grip, compressing the inhuman limb within his own superior biceps and triceps until it was only a mushy pulp-like substance. Grendel cried louder, having never felt such unimaginable strength in his countless battles against weaker warriors.

Beowulf, having demolished one of the nightmarish fiend's arms, decided he would like to take the other as a trophy. He waited for the demon to regain its senses, hoping that it would still have some fight left in it. And fight it did; as soon as Grendel had managed to override the mind-boggling pain of getting its arm macerated into a paste, he snorted and lunged at the smaller, yet undeniably stronger, beast. Beowulf smirked, his behemothic muscles relaxed, but still huge. Then, right before Grendel's body struck his own, the hero flexed every muscle in his body to its hardest possible state. Instantly, Beowulf turned his entire body into something of such extreme rigidness that it could make even the king's strongest castles green with envy. Grendel crashed into the hero and, once again, shrieked in pain as he hit an entity of such hardness that his entire skeleton became fractured in a dozen places. Beowulf laughed at the demon's pathetic weakness and jumped on top of the monster. Wrestling him into a position of total vulnerability, the youth slapped Grendel's head once, then twice, and then a third time, over and over again, using a progressively larger fraction of his strength with each punch. Each time Grendel thought he had taken the worst punishment this mortal man could deal out, the teen would slap him again, cracking the monster skull in several places.

"You think you can go around tearing this place apart because you're some kind of supernatural beast? Well, I'm a supernatural beast too, bitch! It's time you learn a lesson in respect!"

With a sudden jerk, Beowulf wrapped both mighty arms around Grendel's left appendage and simply TORE it right off of the monster's body. He didn't work it or soften it by crushing it like he did with the other arm, Beowulf simply ripped the arm straight off the titanic monster's body! Grendel roared in terror, both of his arms now destroyed by this young male with seemingly endless strength. Now that he had earned his trophy, Beowulf decided to finish the fight. Placing both of his bloated thighs, each nearly foot thicker than his skinny 28-inch waist, around the monster's head, the hero yelled in triumph and SMASHED his legs together, flattening the head between them into nothingness. When he spread his thighs open, all that was there in between them was sticky brain matter, fractured skull fragments, and bit of distorted flesh. Beowulf stood over the corpse and, holding the perfectly intact left arm of the hideous beast, roared in ecstasy from the victory he had just earned, his cock engorged to massive proportions from the excitement of the battle. At first there was silence, no sound but his own deep breath as he basked in the glow of his own supreme power, strength not even the gods had the courage to challenge. Then there was applause, cheering and chants of joy from the soldiers stationed in the hall. Beowulf turned away from the puny men and slowly made love with his own right bicep, kissing it tenderly, then slurping at it with his powerful, muscled tongue, tasting the salty masculine sweat pouring off of his pumped body. His penis pointed straight upwards, drooling a waterfall of semen as its head rested between the youth's pecs.

"It is not me who you should thank, but my bicep. Because were it not for my bicep's godlike brawn, the superhuman thew it possessed and used with such ease, I could never have bested the hideous demon."

Beowulf smiled, that handsome smile that all of the men had fallen in love with. That night, the adolescent hero fucked each and every one of them a dozen times, forcing the men to spew fresh cum with his impossible strength and youthful beauty. He knew that this was only the beginning of his legend...

---

Part 2

The next morning, Beowulf stood before Hrothgar, his brilliant, seductive smile spread wide as could be. In his massive arms was the bloody left arm of Grendel, ripped from his body the night before.

Hrothgar sat in his chair, eyes wide at the gory sight. "I shall admit it. I did not think I would see your face on this day. It seems my worries were unfounded. You have defeated the monster that haunted my halls, and if what my soldiers say is true, you did it with the most splendid ease."

Beowulf grinned, soaking up the praise. "I thank you for your kind words, father. It is a pleasure to assist Ecgtheow's greatest friend."

The king nodded, "I plan to thank you with more than just kind words. You shall find that my men have engraved your name on my largest ship and placed within my sharpest blades, my finest armors, and eight of my swiftest horses. Barrels of gold decorate the vessel, enough to trade for an army of a thousand of the world's greatest mercenaries or a food supply large enough to feed a kingdom for a year. A feast shall be held in your honor tonight, in which all of my finest chefs shall be preparing their best dishes."

"I gladly accept the gifts you bestow upon me, my king," the teen responded with sincerity, "If Your Majesty would permit it, I would like to explore the city of the Danes for the midday, to see the magnificence of your kingdom."

Hrothgar flushed. "Of course, my son. I shall announce to my people that you are arriving in our city. You will be treated with utmost courtesy and affection wherever you go."

Beowulf liked the sound of that.

---

The hero spent most of the day walking around the bustling city, filled with people elated at the news of Grendel's defeat. Men and women alike cheered Beowulf's name as he passed. Sweat had started to cling to his armor from the summer heat so, grunting, the muscled teen slowly stripped off his chestplate and battle armor so he was wearing nothing more than his sweat-stained undergarments that hugged his considerable manhood. The spectators gasped at the hero's audacity? and then gasped again when they saw the beautiful musculature hidden underneath those layers of armor. Giving a flirtatious wink to the crowd that had gathered, Beowulf walked off to see the magnificence of the town.

More than one person had 'accidentally' brushed past the teen as they walked by, feeling his bulging biceps or grazing his heaving pecs. Beowulf scowled as they did so, disliking the feel of their sickly peasant flesh making contact with his princely musculature. He was fine with the women and men who looked at him longingly, eyeing his flawless teenage body with lust and jealousy. It was the ones that couldn't resist their desire to touch his supernatural muscles that infuriated him. One commoner even had recklessness to sweep a hand across the hero's cock, but Beowulf had punched the farmer in the face with such force that his head flew off his body and landed several yards away in a peasant woman's lap. There wasn't any accidental touching after that.

On his travels throughout the city, Beowulf heard the cries of a lady screaming for help. Following the sound, the hero saw a slender woman with a heavy bosom shrieking as the horse she was mounted on ran wildly through a marketplace, trampling over merchants and their customers in a fit of rage. The horse brayed with fury? and Beowulf responded with a roar twice as loud. The equine creature glared at Beowulf and charged, thinking it could slaughter the hero the same it did other men.

Beowulf smirked. The horse was mad, insane. No rational creature could ever imagine besting Beowulf's godlike strength, because such an act was simply impossible. It was time to put the beast in its place.

The hero let the horse charge, thinking it had a chance of defeating him? and then he disappeared. The horse, enraged and confused, looked to his right and left, thinking it some sort of trick. Then he heard the sound of an enormous mass landing behind him, crushing the concrete road beneath its feet.

Beowulf whisked the lady off of her horse and placed her gently on the ground. "Best to leave this place quickly. Allow me to handle this beast." Trusting the handsome youth's words, the woman ran.

Finally understanding that the colossal man had jumped over him at the exact second before they would have collided, the horse snorted, his ire for the hero increasing. Kicking backwards, the horse attempted to knock the teen onto his feet. Instead, the stallion's legs came into contact with the hardest wall they had ever felt.

Wailing, the horse was overwhelmed with pain as its feet struck something far too hard to be earthly. That something was Beowulf's abs, an 8-pack that deflected the horse's kick with hardly a twinge of discomfort. Angry, the horse attempted to snap at the hero with his teeth. Beowulf merely stuck his mighty forearm in between the horse's jaws and when he bit down, the stallion's teeth drove up into its mouth, unable to penetrate even the skin of the youth's muscular arm. Both blood and shattered bone now fell from the horse's mouth, as its cries turned to gurgles of desperation. The teen laughed at the horse's suffering, neither its legs nor its teeth able to harm his far superior muscles.

"I was going to be easy on you, but you're being a bad little pony," the hero chuckled, "This will only hurt for a bit, so don't scream too much."

Beowulf grabbed the horse's wide torso and, using both of his unbelievably huge biceps, squeezed. Ribs bent, struggling to maintain their shape. The blood in the horse's mouth now bubbled from the pressure. The stallion hopelessly wriggled, trying to flee from the teen's grasp, but nothing could slip past Beowulf's inescapable grip. The hero squeezed further, cracking ribs. The horse convulsed in death throes as bones started to puncture intestines and innards boiled to liquid under the compression. The stallion was being emptied first of air as it was squished ruthlessly into a mangled corpse, then fluids as blood, shit, and urine squirted out of any opening they could find. By the time Beowulf's two sinewy fists clasped, the being between them was a gory, empty carcass that was not fit for looking at.

But look people did. The common folk whispered tales to each other; some say he had turned from man to demon, using satanic power to drain the blood and strength of the mad horse until all that was left was a bloody cadaver. Others said that he appeared from nowhere and killed the horse with a single blow of justice, the power of heaven slaying the disobedient beast. Beowulf didn't care for the words of these vulgar peasants. They could talk all they want; in the end, it mattered only what the kings and the princes said. He went off to find the lady.

When Beowulf encountered her at a pub, he apologized for their hasty initial meeting. "Oh no," the lady said, "I should be thanking you. You saved my life, not to mention that of many others! What is your name, sir?"

"My name's Beowulf," the teen smiled, his bewitching brown eyes penetrating her own blue irises, "And you don't need to call me sir. I've only just reached my seventeenth year, the first year of manhood, according to the law of the Geats."

The lady's jaw dropped open upon hearing of Beowulf's age, "Just reached manhood? But how do you possess such strength, such musculature, such?manliness?" The lady's eyes dropped from the teen's charming eyes to his heaving crotch.

"It is a gift of the gods. A blessing they gave me in my adolescent years." The hero grinned, knowing what the lady wanted, "So, woman. What is your name?"

"Theresa of the Hansen family," the blond responded quickly, "I come from a wealthy background of successful merchants. My husband is, unfortunately, working at this hour. I would love to invite you to my home, where I can pamper you to your heart's content."

Finally, Beowulf thought, a real lady to fuck, not the whorish peasants who crowded the streets and contaminated his perfect body with their filth. "It would be an honor to enter your home, Theresa. Should we leave now?"

Both peasants and nobles looked at Theresa with jealousy as they saw the hero follow her, his handsome brown eyes glued to her swelling breasts. She did not lie about her wealth; Theresa led Beowulf to the richest district in the city and they arrived at a magnificent house that shamed most others. It was a pity the hero couldn't fully appreciate the fine decor and expensive paintings, for he was already driving Theresa into the wall with his cockpower as soon as they entered the home. The lady screamed harder than she did when she rode the violent horse, but from pleasure, not fear. After nearly an hour of fucking and several dozen orgasms from Theresa, Beowulf finally roared, ejaculating gallons of his thick, viscous sperm into her pussy. Theresa's belly swelled with the adolescent's seed, semen overflowing from her petite ass, unable to contain the excessive cum the hero had pumped into her womanly body. Beowulf grinned, his erect cock finally relaxed, and pulled out. An emptiness replaced the vast room which the teen's penis occupied, and Theresa moaned Beowulf's name over and over again as she fell to sleep?

---

Hrothgar was surprised to see Beowulf return to the hall nearly an hour before the feast. There was no one in the hall, as Hrothgar had ordered all preparations to be made outside. "Back so soon?" he questioned.

Beowulf nodded, a kind of dreamy happiness covering his face as he flashed his trademark smile. "Yes, Your Majesty. I've had a great visit throughout the city."

"Indeed," the king nodded, the sternness in his voice betraying his true emotions, "I heard you fucked Theresa Hansen? wife of one of the richest men in the city."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the teen did not deny what he had done.

"Following that, it is said you went to the four richest dwellings in the district and fucked the women of those households as well. Some of them you fucked while their husbands watched."

The hero's arrogant grin did not disappear. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Now the five husbands of the five ladies you fucked are telling me to serve justice and avenge them. The other men of the district are hiding their women in terror, and the damsels themselves are begging to see you after hearing of your sexual conquest of Theresa and her friends."

Beowulf chuckled, "What can I say? I'm a man. Men have urges. Those Danish ladies want me with all the soul they have in their pussy, and I've always had trouble containing myself around tantalizing rich women. It's not my fault their husbands are less sexually competent than an adolescent boy."

Hrothgar sighed. "Beowulf. I cannot say I am not proud of you. You are a great warrior. But you are not a great leader. You share Ecgtheow's impulsiveness, though admittedly he did not have the superhuman virility that you do. You are still young, a man in body but a child in mind, and while you may have the strength to slay demons and slaughter armies without weapons nor armor, your imprudence will make you many enemies if you are not careful. Fortunately, I have managed to convince the wealthy landowners to let you go because of the many men you saved in the marketplace when you slew Theresa's mad horse. But they have not forgiven you. You must find a way to make it up to them tonight when they come to the feast."

"And how do you expect me to do that, father?"

The king's austere face cracked, and a warm smile appeared in its absence. "By giving them what they want, of course."

---

Part 3

That night, Beowulf enjoyed a grand feast. Splendid food from both local and foreign chefs ornamented the hall, and bards danced throughout the hall while singing the epics of great warriors. 'Men will sing of me too one day,' Beowulf thought to himself, 'They will sing of my power, and my legendary feats.' Fat men bragged of the enormous amounts of bread they could shovel into their bodies, and Beowulf, sneering, mocked them by eating twice as much and still having room for more. Beowulf recognized some of the ladies eyeing him voraciously, and their friends excitedly whispered of the tales of Beowulf's unimaginable strength and superhuman libido. Men whispered as well, but in jealousy or disdain rather than lust. Beowulf merely chuckled to himself. He knew what he would do with these men later.

After an hour of gorging on the exquisite dishes, most of the lords had devoured more than their fill and patted bloated bellies in satisfaction, preferring to trade stories and narrate the latest events than fill their guts further. Beowulf's stomach, by contrast, was still flat as if he had not eaten at all, a rippling 8-pack decorating his torso and his tiny 28-inch waist both firm and solid. And unlike the other men, the hero still seemed far from sated. If anything, Beowulf only demanded more, roaring at the chefs to send plate after plate of the richest meats and sweetest deserts. He ripped apart his meat with ferocity, oblivious to the stares of the weaker men around him, and stopped only once the chefs claimed to have run out of ingredients. Belching happily, Beowulf put down his empty plate and grinned.

The queen of the Danes, Wealhtheow, had arrived a few minutes before, and had walked to the head of the hall to make her announcement. "I, Wealhthow, wife of Hrothgar, present the savior of the hall with a torque of gold as a symbol of our thanks. Rise, Beowulf." He did. "We of the Danes are honored to host this feast in celebration of your victory and request your friendship to our kingdom. Will you accept?"

"I will," said the hero, bowing towards the queen. Wealhtheow draped the gold necklace around Beowulf's strong, muscular neck, whispering the blessings of the Gods to protect the hero no matter what challenge he faced. Beowulf did not think he needed any god to protect him when his muscles already made his body so impenetrable, but he accepted the blessings anyways.

After the ceremony, the celebration continued with a dance, men and women alike joyfully prancing to the bard's music. Beowulf declined the offer, sitting back with several others who preferred to watch than dance. Several of the dancing girls had stopped and circled around the teenager, massaging his muscled body and excitedly questioning the hero of his seemingly impossible strength.

"I once had a friend named Breca, two years my senior. He was a warrior as well, incredibly strong. I was a younger boy then, not nearly as manly as I am now, but I still possessed amazing vigor for my age. One day I challenged Breca to a swimming contest. He was larger than me and laughed at the idea, but accepted anyways. We swam, him faster than I, but suddenly we were attacked by demons in the form of sea serpents."

The dancers gasped, enthralled by the hero's tale. A busty blonde girl, hugging the muscular teen's vigorously bulging bicep, commanded desperately, "Tell us what happens next!"

Beowulf chuckled to himself and continued, "Breca was quickly entangled by a serpent, though he did his best to fight it off. Another serpent chased after me. I was unarmed, but I was too young and innocent to realize the danger I was in. The demon rushed towards me at a dizzying pace. Instinctively, I thrust my fist towards its angry red face. The punch I delivered was so blindingly fast that it broke through the demon's skull and smashed its brain, extinguishing the monster's pathetic life instantly. The other sea demons saw this and tried to flee, but in my youthful energy I chased after them with a burst of unimaginable speed, massacring the evil creatures with nothing more than lightning-fast blows from my death-dealing fists. That night I brought home the corpses of nine serpents, much to my family's shock. I ate all nine of them, and they only made me grow stronger."

"Bullshit." A voice came from behind the young warrior. Beowulf turned around to see a wealthy-looking man had sneaked upon him from behind.

"Hello, friend," the legendary teenager greeted him sardonically, "Who might you be, my lord?"

"Leave us, ladies," the man ordered. Grumbling, the dancers walked away, though a few of them glanced back to look at Beowulf's sexy body one last time. When they had all left, the man continued.

"My name is Unferth," the older male replied. Though taller than Beowulf and possessing a respectably broad build, the man was still dwarfed by the epic adolescent, the explosive size of his muscles making Unferth's body appear childlike in comparison. "I am a knight of this city, and a politically affluent man. You may have already met my wife. Her name is Theresa."

Beowulf didn't flinch at the name. Instead, his smile only widened. "Yes, I know her. She's got a beautiful ass. It looks even better when it's nude and overflowing with my cock."

Unferth growled. "Perhaps it is custom for you to fuck another man's wife in the backwards tribe you come from, but here, what you have committed is a heinous deed. If you are a true man, you will fight me on fair terms. Our battlefield shall be the arena of the ancient sea god along the shore. No weapons, no armor, one-on-one. I will expect you to be there at the hour of sunrise, tomorrow."

The warrior's invitation to battle would have been intimidating to a normal man, but the powerful hero took it all in stride. Nodding his head, Beowulf merely said, "Accepted," before returning his gaze to a voluptuous dancing girl who was attempting to seduce the young musclegod with her swaying hips. Unferth scowled and walked away.

"The man who had just challenged you is a well-known sinner," Hrothgar told Beowulf later, "Though strong, he is a coward and a cheater. He committed the crime of fratricide in order to steal his family's wealth and power, and has only escaped the law because of his history as a knight. I promise you, Unferth will not battle legitimately."

Beowulf grinned at the old king's worry. "It is only fair that he cheats. On equal terms, how could a mere knight defeat a hero who has slain the greatest abomination in the land with only his fists, or braved the ocean and slaughtered an army of sea demons all on his own? I am not a mere mortal like Unferth is. My bicep is superhuman, my strength is limitless, and no mundane trick created by that half-man can bring harm to me."

At this point, the phenomenally-muscled adolescent was getting too cocky for his own good. Though Hrothgar knew that all of Beowulf's boasts were true, he still worried that such arrogance would eventually lead to the youth's downfall. But he kept those thoughts to himself. The powerful teen held unfathomable strength, and it was not his place to question the boy's transcendence.

---

It was indeed the hour of sunrise. The arena, built on a magnificent shore, was being continuously bombarded by waves from the ocean. Unferth and three other knights were there, each wearing a full suit of armor. The three lackeys fought with a sword, an axe, and a bow, respectively, while Unferth himself wielded a lance. The plan was to ambush the hero and defeat his unarmored, unarmed body by ganging up on him. It was nearly half an hour past sunrise, however and Beowulf had yet to come.

"If the boy does not fight, then I can call him a coward for avoiding our battle," Unferth explained, "But if he arrives, we will surely beat him. I don't care how large his muscles may be or how fast and athletic he is. There is no way any boy can take on four adult warriors in full combat gear, especially if he keeps his word and brings no weapons."

They waited for a while longer, but the hero did not arrive. Unferth was about to call it quits when one of his lackeys spotted a massive figure tearing through the ocean at an impossible speed. The four men watched it anxiously for a while, the huge muscular body distorting the water around it with its powerful strokes. The creature in the water appeared human, although it was difficult to tell because of how insanely fast it was moving, far beyond the velocity reachable by any mortal man. As the figure approached the arena, Unferth suddenly developed a sick feeling within his stomach.

"I apologize for being late, lords," Beowulf cheerily said as he walked out of the ocean. The enormous teen was dressed only in a loincloth that was shrink-wrapped around his colossal boymeat thanks to the water. His entire body was covered in water that emphasized his incredible muscle mass even further, giving him a phenomenal, almost godlike appearance. The adolescent's handsome face grinned irresistibly, revealing a flawless smile so charming that it could kill from a mile away. Seeing this nude, superhuman demigod walking right out of the ocean, so hypermasculine and yet so beautiful, was an overwhelming experience. One of the three lackeys came immediately, falling to the floor as he orgasmed so hard that he practically ruptured his cock. The bow-wielding warrior sighed as the cloth around his penis became sticky with his sperm, more than he had ever produced in his life.

Beowulf looked down at the archer, smirking at the fully-grown man's ecstatic reaction to witnessing his perfect body. "That was disappointing. I pray the rest of you can put up a better fight than that."

---

Part 4

The axeman was the first to strike, ferociously slamming his weapon down upon Beowulf's shoulder. The teen merely flexed his deltoids, the axe having no effect on his powerful body. The aggressor, on the other hand, yelled in agony as Beowulf's massive delts reflected the pain back to him, amplified nearly a hundred-fold. Convulsing violently, the knight dropped the axe on the ground and writhed in atrocious pain. It promptly cracked, the incredibly dense stone axe nowhere near as solid as the teen's deltoids. The swordsman tried to follow this up by swiftly stabbing the hero in the stomach, but the blade merely folded in upon itself, unable to penetrate the teen's invincible abdominals. Beowulf's indescribably dense eight-pack, on the other hand, suffered hardly a scratch. The expertly-crafted steel sword, strong enough to cut through a dragon's scales, was only as soft as a baby's flesh compared the teen's impenetrable abdominals. The knight looked at his expensive sword unbelievingly, as if he couldn't comprehend how such a fine weapon could be so easily deflected and destroyed by a human's nude body. Not even the legendary blacksmiths could construct an armor that powerful!

"Is that the best you can do, lords?" Beowulf laughed, "I imagined that with your weapons against my bare flesh, the odds would be more equal. I suppose I was wrong."

"Enough!" Unferth roared. He lifted his heavy spear and desperately thrust it at the hero's face. The blow would no doubt have been fatal, if he had actually been able to strike. The superhuman teenager was too fast, however. He raised his arm and caught the spearhead in his fist right before it would have pierced his right eye. Sneering, Beowulf crushed the sharpened head within his hand, the spiky metal not even scratching his harder, stronger flesh. He then grabbed the rest of the pole out of Unferth's grasp and snapped the heavy wooden stick across his muscular thigh as if it were nothing more than a twig. Throwing away the two halves of the useless weapon, Beowulf smirked to himself at how effortlessly he disarmed the three experienced warriors.

"Look at your weapons. They are all crushed, destroyed, broken. The only people you hurt with these blades were yourselves. Did you actually think that I, the most powerful man who has ever walked the planet, could be injured by these worthless clubs that you stupidly wield? My biceps alone possess greater destructive power than your entire army combined. And you thought to harm me with a lance made of steel and stone? Pitiful. These enormous cannons that stand upon my arms are far deadlier than those toys you thought to kill me with. Now that you feeble excuses for knights have no pathetic armaments to hide behind, you warriors must fight me with your fists. Refuse, and you shall suffer Hell."

The bowman, who had just recovered from the euphoric orgasm from only moments before, attempted to scramble away whilst Beowulf was occupied. The superhuman teenager, however, was not fooled. Faster than Unferth's eyes could see, the boy pounced upon the archer and trapped his lithe torso between his massive thighs. The captured lord fearfully gazed at the two hulking pillars surrounding him, noticing that each one was thicker than his chest.

"I have slain behemoths with these legs. To them, you are merely an insect."

The three knights cringed as Beowulf smashed his thighs together. The man between them cried out as his torso was pulverized instantly, fractured bones from his rib cage ripping through the skin and creating a grotesque sight. Beowulf stopped the squeezing of his legs before they crushed his heart, allowing the man's most vital organ to remain fully intact despite his unimaginable pain. Standing up, the muscular hero sneered and spit on the archer's tormented face.

"I could snuff your inconsequential life right now. But that would be too easy. For not having the courage to fight me, you deserve a fate worse than death. I will leave you in this crippled state until you meet your painful demise. By the time the Angel of Death delivers you his gift, the torment of living will be so great that you will accept your end with joy. Let this be a lesson to the rest of you mortals."

The trio looked at eachother anxiously before simultaneously rushing at the godlike teenager. Beowulf expected this. He allowed the three armored men to run at him without flinching; when they collided, each of them flew back a dozen feet, their armor dented and damaged. Like with their previous attacks, Beowulf was hardly even grazed by the assault. Instead, the assailants were the ones who had been injured. Each one of them had at least four cracked ribs. The axeman, who had already damaged himself earlier when he attempted to swing his axe upon Beowulf's delts, was the most affected, as his fractured bones were only damaged further by the foolhardy attack. At this point, all three knights were gravely frightened, intimidated by the adolescent's gargantuan muscles and supernatural invulnerability. Even unarmored, the boy's body didn't even budge when the three warriors charged at him with their greatest effort.

Beowulf started to walk towards them slowly. Unferth was about to flee, but remembered the horrible fate of the bowman and decided to simply pray for the best. The teen bent down and picked up the weakling, lifting him to his face and scrutinizing the cheater's terrified expression. The false knight looked back at Beowulf. The boy's face was indescribably beautiful, almost to the point where it seemed unreal. His chocolate brown hair and mysterious dark eyes invoked overpowering masculinity, contrasting sharply with the hero's soft features and heartwarming smile. The man felt himself getting hard at the sight? and, unfortunately for him, Beowulf noticed.

"I should not be surprised. You mortal knights are not only jealous of my godlike strength, but my irresistible appearance as well. After all, this face is what convinced your wife to give me her pussy, along with my incredible body and my gigantic cock. Don't worry, Unferth. You have already witnessed my muscles and my beauty. Now it is time for you to witness my phallus as well."

Unferth gasped as he felt a huge, veiny organ suddenly pressing against the metal covering his ass. The solid armor could block arrows being fired at high speeds, but it could not resist the force of Beowulf's mighty manhood. The erect penis vigorously thrusted against the steel plate with such strength that it ruptured the metal, creating a hole for the hero's fuckweapon to penetrate. Unferth was not prepared for the unbelievably large cockhead to insert itself into his virgin ass, and screamed wildly when it did. Though the knight cried out in agony for the first few seconds, that agony soon turned to pleasure, as he raised and lowered himself onto the insanely huge shaft, attempting to take in as much of the boy's obelisk as possible. Beowulf noticed the other two knights had taken off their armor and had started jerking their meat in response to the erotic fucking. Though the men were reasonably endowed for a human, the teen couldn't help but compare their minuscule erections to his own gigantic godshaft. If the knights' penises were likened to twin snakes, then Beowulf's would be more akin to an enormous fire-breathing dragon.

"I have not forgotten you, good lords," Beowulf promised, "As a reward for your stupidly brave attempt to defeat me, I have a present for you. Come here." The two knights nervously approached the musclegod, afraid of what pain the absurdly powerful adolescent might choose to inflict on them. "Here, you pathetic creatures? why don't you two suck on these?"

The boy raised the two lackeys to his pecs, one for each knight. The lords attempted to resist for a few moments, but quickly gave in and voraciously attacked Beowulf's monstrous pectorals, sucking on his huge nipples and punching the beefy flesh. Beowulf moaned, gelatinous saliva dripping from his succulent lips and covering the heads of the two lords. The teen's nipples were impervious to any sort of pain, and his skin was so hard that the two knights' jaws ached trying to chew on it. But Beowulf relaxed his body and allowed his pecs to soften just enough so that the lords could gnaw at it without breaking their jaw, and the lackeys responded by biting the muscleboy's pecs even harder.

Beowulf was reaching his own state of euphoria at this point, and his eyes rolled up into his head as he let out a deep, sexy growl. He powerfully clasped the back of the two knights' heads and forcefully pressed them into his behemothic chest, flexing his pecs at the same time. The knights at first excitedly slurped at Beowulf's virile chest, but soon panicked as they felt the unfathomable pressure of the hero's fists forcing them into his huge pecs. His sperm-cannon enlarged, lengthening and thrusting a foot farther into Unferth's body, forcing a terrorized squeal to escape the coward's throat as blood sprayed out of his ass. Beowulf grunted happily when he looked down and saw that the armor covering Unferth's stomach was visibly distending outwards, the teen's hypermasculine member so massive and powerful that not even an armor suit could conceal its girth. The two lackeys yelled in deathly cries before their heads simply popped between Beowulf's firm hands and swelling pecs, the flexing adolescent muscle much stronger than their helm-covered skulls. The headless bodies fell to the ground, where they were soon forgotten.

Beowulf's freakish cock kept ramming itself up the poor warrior's ass, its incredible magnitude allowing it to shove through Unferth's intestines and rip apart his innards with incredible ease. Eventually the hero's awe-inspiring fuck-spear (which, fully erect, was much, much larger than Unferth's own spear) had reached all the way up to Unferth's throat, and the lesser man's face became twisted as he constantly coughed up precum from Beowulf's cock. Gazing at the sexy vision with intense lust, the teen unleashed an ear-splitting roar as he climaxed, spewing gallons of viscous white cum directly out of Unferth's mouth. The adolescent's eruption was so intense that it shot fifty feet into the air before gravity overpowered Beowulf's superhuman orgasm, bringing the rich, copious sperm-fountain back down to the Earth and splattering all over the stone floor. Beowulf had discharged enough of his seed from his cannon that he had nearly covered the entire arena with nothing more than teen spunk. Unferth, overwhelmed by the impossible amount of ejaculate that had exploded out of his mouth in such a short time, passed out, speared upon Beowulf's manhood. Meanwhile, the godlike hero was still in an intoxicated state from the incredible fucking, his body demanding respite after expending so much energy on the unearthly sex. The overmuscled adolescent laid down on the rocky surface of the arena and squirmed as if to create a bed on a sandy beach. Except instead of sand, Beowulf crushed solid rock beneath his body with nothing more than his rolling, grinding back, glute, and thigh muscles, pulverizing refined stone by simply writhing his inconceivably hard body over it. Then, with a mushy rock bed beneath him and Unferth's soft, undersized body wrapped around his now-flaccid cock, Beowulf went to sleep.

---

Unferth awoke mid-day. All he remembered about the morning was that he had planned to ambush Beowulf and earn glory for defeating the hero, but had his plans interrupted somehow, which led to?

He looked beneath him and yelped, seeing the gigantic teenager's massive sleeping body. It was then that Unferth noticed that the boy's huge penis was still inside him. Desperately, he tried to pull himself off of it, but even soft the cockhead was too large for it to easily leave his ass. Unferth's buttocks ached miserably, his glutes spread way farther than human anatomy was ever designed to, and he swore that there was still cum leaking out of his ass. Angrily, he punched the enormous adolescent's pectoral, but only ended up hurting his own fist. He yelled as loud as his lungs would let him, but Beowulf slept as soundly as a baby. Finally, Unferth decided to slap the hero across the face. Beowulf's immensely strong neck was far too thick and solid to budge even an inch, but the boy did awake, if only because the warrior's blows were starting to tickle him.

"Huh?" Beowulf yawned, his stupendous biceps rolling lazily as he stretched his muscles and deformed the rocky surface of the arena even further. "Where am I? What happened? I could devour a leviathan or two right now."

Unferth pulled at the hero's hair in an attempt to get his attention. "Beowulf! I demand you take your filthy manhood out of me right now!"

The teen stared at his fuck-victim for a few moments before it all returned to him. "Unferth? Just why should I do that, pray tell?"

"Because? because? it's obscene! Lying here in the mud and rock, covered in your ejaculate! I command you to exit me at once!"

Beowulf only chuckled at the smaller man's words, the evil, icy look in his eyes clashing with his childlike beauty and youthful charm. "You know that's not what you want, Unferth. You want me to drive my hulking mega-cock up into your tiny little ass and hammer your body until you die from pleasure, don't you? I can already see you getting hard at the thought, so don't deny it. What will the rest of your people think, seeing that the warrior Unferth is playing the role of a fuck-puppet for a seventeen year old boy? They will think you a disgusting, embarrassing piece of shit, that's what."

Unferth reddened, "That's not true! You're the one who?"

"Let's not be so quick to accuse, Unferth. Especially since you're the one who broke his own rules in a battle that you proposed." Beowulf stroked the man's face condescendingly, his humongous palm covering the entire side of Unferth's head. "Here is my proposition. I can let you go without telling anyone of this humiliating experience if you promise to withdraw all accusations against me. I'll even fuck you with my gargantuan fuckpillar once in a while. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Alternatively, you could refuse to withdraw your accusations, in which case I'd kill you right here with a quick snap of the neck and throw you out in the ocean. No pleasure, all pain. I'll probably end up marrying your wife and inheriting all your property that you worked so hard to steal from your brothers, too. Which do you choose?"

"If I... take back my charges... and exculpate you in presence of the court of Heorot... then can we? can we do this? again?"

Beowulf nodded, his handsome, innocent smile bewitching the weaker warrior.

"Then? I officially recall my accusations. I'll tell the other men of my district to forgive you as well. You can even fuck Theresa as much as you want. But? please? fuck me one more time."

The boy smiled devilishly. His enormous manhood flexed inside of Unferth, forcing a shrill shriek from the knight.

"Of course."
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