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Old December 20th, 2012, 05:31 PM
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A Wonderful Accident of Nature 2

Matt was bored.

That wasn’t unusual, of course. He rarely derived pleasure from anything anymore. The world’s first and only remaining “supersoldier”, he was created by the US government’s greatest scientists in a top-secret weapons development program. Matt was a huge success. He had everything an ideal soldier should have; strength, stamina, intelligence, perception, determination and agility. And he had a few “super-powers” as well. Matt had perfect control over his body’s metabolism and hormones, meaning he could will himself to stop being hungry or instantaneously heal any physical wounds, just as easily as most people breath or eat. Matt also had an incredible ability to manipulate people. Matt could obtain any piece of information that the government desired, or stop a terrorist organization from detonating an explosive, or even make people forget things that they saw with their own eyes, simply by using the power of his voice. Designed to look like an irresistibly attractive 19-year-old blond, blue-eyed athlete, the 6’4, 270lbs supersoldier was both sexy and dangerous. He could choose to be a killing machine or a diplomat, depending on what his orders were.

In the first few years after his creation, Matt found life exhilarating. The government would assign him countless deadly missions, such as sending him to destroy an international terrorist group or track down an elusive serial killer, that would provide Matt with opportunities to exercise his superhuman abilities. He enjoyed playing the predator, chasing down his prey and having the power of life and death over his victims. The feeling of watching some poor fucker beg for mercy in his last few moments of life, pleading and crying in desperation as his existence came to a close, was like a drug to Matt. Of course, Matt was a killer, and he would never let anyone go unless given specific orders. Whenever that jackass implored the supersoldier for a second chance at life, Matt would laugh and snuff him out in the most gruesome way possible. Matt still kept the corpses of some of his most brutalized victims as souvenirs, bodies with bones crushed to fine powder and vital organs interwoven with each other like decorations.

But that was all over now. A reporter for a major newspaper somehow managed to discover the supersoldier project, and almost revealed it to the public. A prompt visit from Matt made the reporter forget the entire story, but the higher-ups in the government were already wary. The remaining supersoldiers, still in their early stages, were all euthanized, and Matt alone was allowed to live on an island resort where he would not disturb society or reveal any of the government’s dark secrets. Matt was not pleased by this. He was a soldier, born to fight and survive, and the idea of spending the remainder of his days relaxing in a tropical paradise did not appeal to him. He was very bored indeed.

Fortunately, Matt had found other ways to satisfy his bloodthirst. Every morning, he would sneak through the dense foliage of the jungle, looking for game to eat. When he had located his target, usually a large tiger or perhaps a gorilla, Matt would strike with lightning quickness. He could easily kill even the strongest of these beasts with a single blow from one of his deadly fists, but occasionally he would decide to take them head-to-head instead. The beast would charge at him, desperately attacking the muscled supersoldier. Matt would then casually dodge, his movements so fast that it appeared as if he simply teleport out of the way. Once the beast was off-balance, Matt would grab it and lift it off the ground, effortlessly holding the brute’s weight in his powerful arms. He would then lift the beast up, pressing it for reps, before slamming it on his knee and breaking its spine. The dead body would make a delicious meal.

It was on one of these hunting expeditions that Matt saw something unusual in the sky. A helicopter. The supersoldier hadn’t had contact with another human being in years, and he wondered who it was that could be coming to meet him after all this time. A tall, slender South Asian man wearing glasses and a business suit walked out of the coptor. He looked up, and saw himself face-to-face with a set of bewitching blue eyes and a seductive smirk. He shivered.

“Matt Dumler.”

“Raj Shukla.”

The scientist looked at Matt, and sighed. “We need your help. A dangerous subject was in our captivity, and… well, it escaped.”

Matt smiled. “Do I get to kill it?”


On the helicopter, Dr. Shukla briefed Matt on the mission.

“The subject is a Chinese boy of massive size. At nine feet tall and over eight hundred pounds of muscle, he’ll be hard to miss.”

Matt looked at the doctor, shocked. “What the hell? Did the Chinese government create a supersoldier of their own?”

Dr. Shukla shook his head. “Although we suspected something like that, there is no indication that the boy is actually the product of science. We found him wandering in the wilderness, not in a lab, and all of our genetic research on him points to the same random variation you see in nature. Unlike you, the kid is one hundred-percent natural.”

“Right. He’s a hundred-percent natural behemoth six times the weight of the average human, all in muscle mass, and he doesn’t have any sort of genetic anomaly. I’m totally buying that, doc.”

The doctor shrugged. “Regardless, we want you to find him. While in our lab, the boy tampered with our database and somehow managed to hack it. He essentially has memorized everything in our entire library of information; our international documents, our scientific files, our domestic statistics, everything.”

“So he’s not only a musclebound superfreak,” Matt said sarcastically, “but he’s also hyperintelligent and smart enough to remember millions of zettabytes of information. Doc, what you’re implying is that this kid has the brainpower of several dozen supercomputers.”

Dr. Shukla nodded. “And that’s why he’s so dangerous. That, and the fact that he has the physical strength to destroy skyscrapers and a running speed that would leave most race cars panting in the dust.”

Matt’s face hardened. “So what we basically have roaming around is a demigod capable of wiping out entire cities before we can even touch him. This fucker got a name?”

“None that we know of.”

“Then I got one for him. Bitch-Ass-Faggot, because after I’m done with him, he’s going to be begging to suck my dick. I’m going to take this giant oaf and wipe his overgrown ass off the face of the Earth. He won’t even know what hit him.”

The Indian scientist was silent for a moment. Matt’s spirit was important… but the supersoldier had no clue what he was dealing with if he thought this would be an easy fight. But Dr. Shukla kept quiet, because Matt would need all the confidence he could get.

“We’ve been tracking the boy…”

“You mean Bitch-Ass-Faggot,” the muscular blond interrupted.

“We’ve been tracking, ‘Bitch-Ass-Faggot’, but he constantly eludes us. At one moment, we think we’ve found him, and the next moment he pops up somewhere else. He’s too fast to track. But he’s finally stopped someplace, a small town in Illinois, and seems to be staying there. We’ve sent satellites to spy on him but, well, they always get destroyed. Somehow, the kid is knocking out rapidly-moving satellites hundreds of miles up in the atmosphere using nothing more than his fists and any projectiles he can find. We’ve sent men, too, good army men who have never failed us, but we lose contact with them seconds after they enter the area, and never hear from them again. It’s like a black hole. That’s why we’ve come to you. Because you’re the perfect soldier.”

Dr. Shukla took out a bag, stuffed with clothes and supplies. “In here, you have a 3XL black hoodie, dark grey sweatpants, a custom-made jockstrap, a watch that doubles as both a cell phone and a translator, and finally, food. I know that you probably don’t need the last one, but, well, I thought you might be hungry after eating nothing but raw meat for a few years.

Matt took out the boxes of pizza, burgers, and french fries, inspecting them, and promptly threw them away. “Sorry, doc, but I don’t eat anything that’s not freshly killed. It just doesn’t sit well in my stomach.”

“As for the clothes, well, we want this to be as much of a stealth operation as possible. Remember, this is a town, and there will be civilians there. The hoodie and sweatpants should hide your body, which is important, because we don’t want to attract attention to you. Most people aren’t used to seeing a naked 270lbs stud with 1% bodyfat and a face that could kill from a mile away. This should help you blend in with the crowd.”

The blond soldier wore the baggy clothes with some difficulty, struggling to get them over his powerful muscles. “How do I look, doc?”

‘Sexy enough to fuck,’ ran though the doctor’s mind, but he only said, “Good. Now get ready, because we’re almost there.”

The helicopter dove towards a dreary, grey town, but Matt, impatient as always, jumped down when the copter was still a hundred feet in the air. Dr. Shukla sighed at the supersoldier’s impulsiveness and flew away.

The huge drop should have fractured a few bones in his body, but being born a warrior gave Matt the strength to survive much harsher conditions than this. The concrete sidewalk that Matt landed on cracked under his incredible force, but Matt, unfazed by the drop, just dusted off his jet-black hoodie and continued on with his mission.

Or he would, if he wasn’t immediately surrounded by four young men with guns. They approached from the bushes, weapons pointed at Matt, wearing ordinary civilian clothing and clearly inexperienced with their weapons.

“Stop right there!” cried the leader, who looked to be the youngest. “Don’t move, or I’ll shoot!”

Matt smirked, and advanced towards the leader, a cocky swagger in his step. The youth raised his gun, but hesitated. Big mistake.

The supersoldier shot out his fist so fast that it completely caved in the leader’s face, killing him instantly. The other three raised their weapons to attack but Matt jumped in the air with unexpected agility and kicked two of the men in the head, crushing their fragile skulls with deadly swiftness. Matt landed on the third guy’s shoulders and drove him into the floor, the man’s muscle and bone collapsing under Matt’s weight. He would be a quadriplegic, if he survived.

But more men rushed out, flowing out of houses and bushes to ambush the blond supersoldier. Matt’s speed and power massacred dozens of men, but there were too many. Suddenly, in the chaos of the fighting, Matt felt a sharp pain in his right pec. He looked down at his chest, and saw a bullet-sized hole in his hoodie. A dark red fluid burped out. Then everything turned dark.


In a bright white room lay a blond soldier, naked, unconscious, and chained upon a white bed. It looked almost like a hospital room. The blond slowly regained consciousness. He was in for quite a surprise.

The first thing that Matt noticed upon waking was a dark, shadowy giant looming over him. The figure held a knife. He jabbed it in to Matt’s pec. The supersoldier cried in pain.

“Shut up,” the man’s voice rumbled, deep and booming, as if it could shake the Earth.

Matt’s vision cleared, and he saw the giant’s face with greater clarity. The man’s skin had a somewhat yellowish tinge, and his face possessed a distinct childishness about it, with handsome dark eyes and a mischievous smile. It didn’t even look like it belonged to the body it was attached to; shirtless, and wearing only a pair of black shorts, the giant’s muscles bulged with such enormity and exaggerated hugeness that it could have easily been something out of a cartoon. The Hulk would be dwarfed by this incredible behemoth.

That’s when Matt recognized who it was. “You’re him!”

The boy chuckled, a sound that was both playful and powerful. “If by him, you mean the God you called Bitch-Ass-Faggot, then yes, I’m him.”

Matt’s eyes widened. “You heard that? Did you hire a spy?”

The Chinese muscleteen smirked. “I don’t need a spy. I know everything that goes on, everywhere. The world’s strongest internet security systems are nothing to my superior hacking skills, so don’t think you’re keeping any secrets from me, dweeb.” The giant curiously scanned Matt’s muscular torso for a few more seconds, “To be honest, I was expecting my genetically-engineered super-assassin to be a bit bigger than you are. How did those morons think that someone as puny as you could kill a man like ME?”

“Soldier,” Matt corrected him, “Not assassin.”

The boy smiled condescendingly. “Regardless of your diminutive stature, I’m impressed. I knew that you could survive getting shot, but the fact that all of your internal organs are completely uninjured amazes me. The bullet is still lodged inside of you, however. I’m going to fix that.”

Quickly, the adolescent twisted the knife inside of him. Matt tried to jerk up, but all of his limbs were fettered to the bed. He fought back the urge to yell… and as suddenly as it started, it was over. The musclegod removed the knife.

“Here’s the bullet that shot you,” The teen held out five tiny fragments of the projectile in front of Matt. “You’re incredibly strong, for a human, and it appears that the bullet actually broke apart inside of your pectoral. Of course, that made it a lot messier to clean up, but that’s okay. I enjoyed your pain.”

“Why did you bring me here?” Matt growled, “If you really knew everything, then you would know that I’m willing to go to any extreme to exterminate you. You can have easily killed me while I was unconscious. You could kill me right now.”

The musclegod grinned slyly. “I could kill you, but why bother? You’re just so pathetic compared to me in every way. Look at you. You’re so puny, so inferior, it’s like we’re entirely different species. The fact that scientists spent so much time and money creating a man as weak as you is… hilarious.” The boy casually bounced his pecs, his oversized muscles rippling and exploding with even the slightest movement. “It’s pitiful, really. Your nation’s top geneticists working together to create a piece of shit like you.”

Matt glared at the Asian giant. “Oh yeah? So what’s your story, boy? How did a kid who barely started puberty get a body like that? Steroids? Drugs? You pump yourself full of testosterone every night?”

The boy’s cool gaze suddenly flared as his confident smirk turned into a vicious snarl. But then he collected his bearing, his smile calm and composed.

“I was born in a small rural mountain village to an ordinary young couple. They named me Qiang. You know what Qiang means, fucker? It means ‘strength’. I guess my parents really knew what they were doing when they named me, huh? There’s a weapon in China called the Qiang, though it’s not spelled quite the same; it’s basically a spear, incredibly dangerous and deadly, just like me. It’s referred to as ‘The King of Weapons’. Think of the masculinity of that. A phallic weapon, king of them all, that thrusts and rapes its enemy to death while symbolizing the very essence of power. That’s me, alright.

Everyone in the village knew I was special from an early age. My legs were exceptionally well-developed straight from birth, and I started walking when I was one month old, and learned how to run a few days after that. The ability to verbally formulate sentences came at three months. When I was one year old, I could hold a basic conversation on my own and was starting to learn how to read and write. I could also count to a hundred and do single-digit multiplication. I guess I’ve always been a bit ahead in math.

I started playing sports at two. I was way too big for anyone my age so I had to play with the older kids, usually around five or six years old, kicking a soccer ball while nimbly dodging the other players thanks to my superior reflexes and agility. Kids would try to steal the ball, so I would tackle them to the ground and pin them with my strong baby muscles, bigger than theirs even though I was less than half their age. I became a chess player, too, and rapidly learned the moves of each piece on the board and developed my own clever strategies to defeat more experienced adults. By this time I could read and write as well as most of the village boys that were old enough to go to school; I wasn’t a master by any means, but I had a pretty strong grasp of the fundamentals, impressive considering I was only two fucking years old. My math skills improved by leaps and bounds, though. Realizing that I was a prodigy, my parents persuaded a teacher from the nearby school to teach me early. She was astonished at how easily I could understand mathematical topics and how quickly I devoured her knowledge. My calculations were flawless and my comprehension was perfect. After a few months, the teacher had to regrettably tell my parents that she had taught me the school’s entire math curriculum. They went out to buy me an algebra textbook at the high school level, and I memorized that as well. I was doing high school math when I was only two years old!

If my life had gone the route it was currently going, I probably would have been declared as a child prodigy and worldwide phenomenon. I would have the world’s greatest universities begging to have me at an age when most children are still learning the alphabet, and coaches amazed at my advanced physical development would compete to recruit me into their sport as the world’s next great child athlete. Unfortunately, that’s not how things turned out. A few weeks later, my village was attacked by bandits. They came out of nowhere, burned the entire village to the ground, and disappeared as suddenly as they arrived. Everyone died, except for me. My father ran away holding me in his arms. He stopped and hid me in a bush, saying that he would come back when it was safe. Then he walked away, and didn’t come back. A few hours later, I crawled out of the bushes and searched for my father. I saw his dead body bleeding on the floor. His head was decapitated.

From then on, I was on my own. I didn’t have the luxury of playing sports or learning math anymore. I had to hunt and survive. The first thing I did was search for food. I found a bright and colorful snake and, thinking it would taste delicious, choked it to death. I ate it, and was promptly on the floor coughing and puking. The snake was poisonous, and it should have killed me. But my body was way too strong to let a bit of venom harm it, so I just coughed up all that poison and spit it out. Then I went off to search for more food. My next victim, a hare, wasn’t poisonous, and was quite fulfilling. After a satisfied belch, I was feeling thirsty, so I went to the nearest lake and drank directly out of it. It was getting kind of dark, so I found some good wood and made a fire. I lay down and slept. That was my first day living as a hunter.

I continued to exist like this for three years, surviving as the cavemen did. My hyperintelligent brain allowed me to learn entire centuries of human knowledge over the course of years, and my incredible physical development allowed me to fight and flee just as effectively as any beast of the jungle. I taught myself the art of using fire, weaponry, and even basic herbal medicine. My first weapon, a spear, was really just a heavy sharpened stick the length of a tree branch that I created in a few minutes. I was so excited that ran out and attacked a giant panda with it. I barely escaped with my life, and had to consume various berries and roots to heal my battle wounds. From there, I improved upon my spear, until it became a thirteen-foot long lance forged of the strongest metals I could find, with a shape designed to produce maximum penetrability and instant death to everything it touched. My spear was so strong it could pierce a stone wall, and with it I became the ideal apex predator. I was cunning, agile, and deadly. If I wanted to kill something, it would be dead in ten seconds flat. Not even having the advantage of flight could save my prey; I could throw my spear like a javelin with perfect aim, and with enough force to travel almost a hundred yards. By the time I was eight years old, my mere presence could strike terror into the most ferocious of beasts. I was the new King of the Jungle. And I was still growing bigger.

But I didn’t forget my origins. Every night, I would go to sleep with only one thought on my mind; revenge. Then, by a stroke of luck, I found one of the bandits wandering through my territory one day. I jumped out of a tree and grabbed the dumb fucker by the neck, and threatened to snap it if he didn’t tell me where his gang was. The bandit led me to his buddies, and I killed all of them. It wasn’t even a challenge. Each of the thugs lifted up their weapons and charged at me, their big, clumsy bodies sluggishly bouncing across the dirt. I disarmed each of them with a blow to the wrist, my superhuman reflexes allowing me to neutralize the weapons of a dozen men in the same amount of time it took them to blink their eyes. I turned around to see that one of the bandits had hidden behind a bush and had shot an arrow at me; I grabbed the projectile out of its path and threw it back at the archer. The arrow went straight through his head with such force that it carried the skull with it, effectively beheading the mutherfucker with his own goddamn arrow.

That reminded me of my dead father, and I got angry. I slammed my fist into the face of the nearest punk, and his head caved in, the entire skull simply deteriorating under the power of my punch. But such a quick death wasn’t satisfying, so I took the next guy’s head in my hands and smashed my hands together. The head imploded, blood and brains bursting out from the force of this boy’s two overpowering fists slamming into each other. I saw the fucker’s horrified face milliseconds before it was crushed. Then I looked at the other bandits. They had the same terrified face as the punk I had just snuffed. Each of the bandits started running away, and I laughed at them, giving them a two minute headstart. Then I chased after them.

My eyes quickly caught sight of one, and lifting my spear, I threw it at him. The thug yelled horribly as my thirteen-foot lance punctured his entire body, ripping through bone and muscle and organs without slowing down, destroying everything inside of the man’s body until it tore out of his stomach and poured out all of the punk’s blood and gore from his ruptured belly. But my spear was sharp and deadly, and I had thrown it with too much force, too much anger and hatred, to stop after killing one person. The spear continued, and I heard three more cries as a massive eruption of blood suddenly decorated the horizon. When I caught up with them, I saw five men dead. Four of them had been killed by my spear, and their innards were slung across the forest, colored red with a dark and disturbing fluid. The fifth had no bodily damage; when I approached him, I saw he had stopped breathing, and had experienced a heart attack out of the fear of being chased by me. Me, his eight-year-old predator. The sheer horror he derived from just the idea of my power was enough to kill him. Let that sink in, Matty boy.

But there was a sixth one, another bandit who had run away. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him; my ears picked up the sound of his breathing over a mile away. He had split up from the main group and fled in the opposite direction, and in the time that I was examining the victims of my massacre he had gained distance. But he couldn’t outrun an apex predator. He couldn’t outrun ME. I heard the bandit’s footsteps as he tiptoed across soft ground, creating such a quiet sound that even a bat would struggle to recognize it. That wasn’t a problem for me, of course. I dashed after him with my incredibly muscled legs, rapidly closing in on him, and by the time he could hear me behind him it was too late. I tackled him to the ground and sat over him, wondering how to execute this moron that thought he could escape nature’s most dangerous predator.

‘Please!’ the stupid fuck begged, ‘Don’t kill me!’

Nobody tells me what to do, and I got pissed. I tore off the bandit’s clothes and then I whipped out my cock. The rapid development I had undergone due to my lonely life as a hunter in the woods had forced every part of me to grow faster, including my dick. I laughed at the man’s raging hard-on, his fully-grown penis half as long hard as my young cock was soft. I jabbed my penis inside of his ugly ass and started pissing. Pissed in him until piss started squirting out of his ears and nose and eventually his head just exploded and he died. It’s a terrible way to die, to be impaled on a footlong cock, boyjuice bursting out of your skull in the very last second of your existence. It was horrifying, and yet it gave me so much satisfaction. I had finally obtained merciless, coldhearted revenge.

After I killed the bandits, I knew that I wouldn’t ever be able to assimilate back into society, so I decided to stay in the wilderness where nobody would bother me. That is, until your friends in the American government detected me with their stupid satellites and decided I was a threat. They took me to their research facility, a boring old labratory where they tested my capabilities, trying to gauge my strength and intellect but failing because my body is simply so much more perfect than anything their tiny brains can even imagine. After my capture, the only thing I had to keep me busy were their books. I quickly burned through the entire government library and, having nothing else to keep myself occupied, escaped. It wasn't very hard; the walls of the building were made of a manmade alloy powerful enough to repel nukes but caved easily under my fist. The guards practically fainted when they saw me headed straight for them, and the few who were left standing desperately shot bullets that reflected harmlessly off my muscles. I had already disabled the electronic security systems, so nobody even knew I had escaped until I was half the continent away.”

Matt yawned, evidently disinterested. “So that’s the reason for your escape? Boredom? I can see why you’d get bored up there; the government scientists are about as much fun as you’d think a bunch of old meganerds would be.”

“I concur,” replied Qiang, strumming his hands over his powerful, rippling torso, “That’s why I’m glad they sent you. You seem like you’ll be much more fun to play with than they were.”


It had been a week since Raj had sent Matt on the mission. He hadn’t returned. In truth, Dr. Shukla was not surprised. The Chinese behemoth had destroyed every attempt at capturing him up until they had contacted Matt; the blond supersoldier was really nothing more than a last ditch effort.

‘Somehow, I foolishly believed that Matt actually had a chance of success,’ Dr. Shukla thought critically, ‘Perhaps I believed that his stealth and agility would allow him to accomplish what pure firepower could not. And for that mistake, the nation’s greatest soldier has been killed.’

If anything, the weapons research department would have enjoy this turn of events. Matt could have caused trouble for them if he was ever revealed to the public, and his existence kept them constantly on the edge of danger. But now that Matt had disappeared in the domain of this mysterious giant, the fear of public disclosure fell to Dr. Shukla’s team of scientists, who were in charge of studying the freak of nature. If some lucky bastard in the media somehow found out even the tiniest bit about the musclebound monster, things could avalanche out of control, and fast.

Raj checked his e-mail. No spam, but a few messages from the President and routine updates on all the government projects. And what’s this? Raj clicked the link. He saw a strong, beautiful blond man… and behind him, a nine-foot tall Chinese musclegod.

Something was very, very wrong.

Last edited by MuscleHintz; February 17th, 2014 at 10:06 AM.
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Old December 20th, 2012, 06:01 PM
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Wow, just an incredible story, reading Qiang's back story was just incredible, I love to see this, completely incredible early development, man, I loved seeing how he could do the stuff he did at such a young age, that's always been one of my very favorite story elements. Wonder how old Qiang is now, I don't think that point was ever established, but the simple fact that he was so strong, so masculine at such a young age, well, it just blew my mind, I'm serious, I was reading that part with my mouth wide open nearly drooling from being dumbfounded. I don't know how it would be possible for anyone to beat this Chinese superboy, but if there's other Supers in this universe with the kind of backstory that he had, I'd love to read about it!
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MuscleHintz (December 23rd, 2012)
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Old December 20th, 2012, 07:25 PM
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Fascinating...a bit more snuff/violent than we usually have here but interesting none-the-less.
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MuscleHintz (December 23rd, 2012)
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Old December 20th, 2012, 08:12 PM
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It has very much of a Chip Masterson type vibe to it. I mean this looks to be exactly what he did with Jason, having a small piece of the country cut off from the rest of the country, having people from the military try to go into it, but Jason (or in this case, Qiang) intercepting them and either turning them to his side or straight up killing them. I am very much looking forward to seeing where this is going.
"Loved by few, hated by many, respected by ALL" The Undertaker, Deadman Inc.

In the MGS FC's, I am Barf the Mawg from Spaceballs, loyal, powerful, quick witted, but I have a bit of a weight problem.

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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MuscleHintz (December 23rd, 2012)
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Old December 21st, 2012, 06:38 PM
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Well...if you like this sort of thing, this is the sort of thing you'll like.
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Old December 22nd, 2012, 09:46 AM
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A lot more gore than I'm used to, but I enjoyed the story line immensely! Please! Next chapter! Soon!!!
--It is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent that survives. It is the one that is the most adaptable to change. Charles Darwin
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MuscleHintz (December 23rd, 2012)
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Old December 23rd, 2012, 09:04 AM
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I love this story A LOT! Its totally different from what i would usually read, but yet you created these characters and gave them life. I congratulate you on that and hope that you continue on.
I like to smile! but after a while it hurts!
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MuscleHintz (December 23rd, 2012)
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Old December 23rd, 2012, 04:56 PM
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I'm glad this story is being recieved positively. I was a bit nervous when I first posted this because of the snuff elements, but I'm going for a darker story here.

Originally Posted by iceman75 View Post
It has very much of a Chip Masterson type vibe to it. I mean this looks to be exactly what he did with Jason, having a small piece of the country cut off from the rest of the country, having people from the military try to go into it, but Jason (or in this case, Qiang) intercepting them and either turning them to his side or straight up killing them. I am very much looking forward to seeing where this is going.
Yep, Chip Masterson is my fav muscle author. His writings definitely influenced me when I was writing this.
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