Tank: Part 7

[Corwin]

(finishing this story... other parts on the forum or here, but I need to fix some copying problems still)

Kaz saw the fear in Mike's eyes. "That's more like it, but I gotta change. The reps from the supplement companies are coming in a few minutes with some photographers, and I want to give them a preview in the gym." Kaz walked to his bag and pulled out a red poser. It had a large section of V-shaped fabric held together with elastic string. Kaz smiled, then stepped into the poser. He took time to adjust his huge balls and thick cock. All Mike could do is stare as the red fabric showed every counter of Kaz's manhood. "Now this is what a man should look like," Kaz said as he turned and walked out.

Mike lay on the floor and curled into a fetal position. His mind was filled with images of Kaz and Tank, posing, flexing. First, Kaz was bigger, then Mike. He tried to make sense out of the two hypermasculine men as he felt small and inferior. He shuddered with anticipation at the thought of the competition about to occur.

Suddenly, he heard the door open. He tried to get up, but Tank and Joe saw him. Tank sniffed, and the smell of jism caught him. He grabbed Mike and saw the cum stains around his mouth.

"Look like Mikey here didn't get enough of a real man last night, did you?" said Tank, holding him with one hand and involuntarily flexing his torso in anger.

"He...he...he... raped me!" cried Mike. "He's so big. I couldn't stop him. He's huge and strong. I... I couldn't help myself!"

"Rape?" Tanks asked, reaching down to Mike's nuts and squeezing. "I should crush these right now." He squeezes and Joe cries out, his eyes wattering before Chris stops. "Big, huh?" Tank smile and turned to Joe. "Big as me?"

Joe laughed.

"I'm not sure," Mike said. "He's massive and ripped and... you're both so... I don't know."

Tank dropped the babbling man. "Well maybe you should be sure," he said, stripping off his shirt and revealing his chest. Without stopping he pulled down his pants and undershorts, standing naked before both me. He turned to his gym bag and pulled out a bottle of tanning oil. He threw it at Mike. "Get to work! Feel my body then tell me that runt can compete with me!"

"But Tank," Joe objected.

"It's OK little guy, you can help him too."

Joe wasted no time and took the bottle of oil from Mike, who was still too stunned to move. Joe lathered the lotion on his hands, and started to rub Chris's left calf. Mike slowly fell to his knees, looked up at the muscle god with awe, then took the bottle and started on Chris's right calf. He remembered moments before, laying at Kaz's feet, thinking of the cows that that man had. His mind had difficulty comprehending the size of the muscles. He felt how hard Mike was, marvelling at the cuts and striations of his legs as he rubbed the tanning oil in.

"Man Tank," said Joe as he moved up Chris's thigh. "No wonder Mike's mind is blown. I can't even get my mind around these truck's wheel's you got! You're the biggest guy I've ever seen. Shit, you'd make Markus Ruhl feel skinny!"

Chris felt his friend's hands rubbing hard into his legs. Their hands feels weak compared to his muscle, and he flexed and tensed for them. As he flexes, he feels their fingers stuggle against the steely hardness of his body.

Joe's hands were the first to reach his glutes and pendulous cock. He felt Mike rubbing harder and faster, struggling to catch up. But he felt something else. Mike's hands were shaking. Christ started to say something, when he was distracted by Joe. Joe's hands had begun to massage his glutes, and his fingers began to penetrate his crack. Joe began to massage the area and found Tank's hole. Without thinking, he slipped a finger in, penetrating the muscle giant.

"What the fuck!" Tank screamed, flexing his ass and force Joe's finger out but trapping his hand between the marble globes.

Joe screamed and tried to pull his hand out. His fingers cracked and were being crushed by Tank's powerful muscles. It felt to Joe like two ton bounders had slid together, trapping his fingers. Joe's shoulders and pecs flexed as he yanked on his hand, but his own bodybuilder muscle was too small and weak to affect Chris's superior strength.

"Tank! Stop! I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. You're.. FUCK!" Joe felt Tank flex even harder.

"You never do that again you runt!" Tank stopped flexing and Joe fell back on his ass, and started rubbing his hand. "If you do, I'll really fuck Amy and spoil her so that nothing you can do will be able to satisfy her. She's nearly at that point now. The only reason she's willing to let you touch her is because I tell her to. But if I really let loose during sex, not even my order will be able to pull her off me."

Joe just looked stunned, knowing that what Tank said was true.

Mike continued to rub the tanning oil on Tank as Joe lay on the floor, afraid to touch the angry god. Mike felt Chris's ripped abs and obliques, marvelled at the christmas tree. He opened a second bottle of lotion because Tank's enormous back was too big for just one bottle. It took almost a half hour to cover the giant with the lotion. As Mike rubbed every inch of Chris's body, Tank flexed to let his friend know who the biggest and baddest man was.

Outside the locker room, the men heard Kaz. He was lifting and being photographed, assured that he'd win the competition and the supplement contract.

"He's so sure," Tank snickered. "Well, Mike. Still think he can beat this." Now it was Tank's turn to hit his double bicep pose. "So, Mikey, who's the biggest?"

Mike took a step back, afraid to answer. "Chris," he said softly. "I don't know. You're both monsters. Huge. I can't get my mind around it. I..." his voice trailed off, "it could go either way."

"Fuck that!" said Chris. "Get out there and let's settle this!" He turned and grabbed his new posers, pulling them up hard. Next, he grabbed a sweat suit made special to hide his huge physique. As Mike left the locker room, he saw Chris putting powder on his palms, preparing to lift to the max.

Mike saw Kaz standing inside a smith machine. A photographer was snapping pictures as Kaz squatted four plates. Wearing only his posers, Kaz's substantial manhood was more-than-obvious has his quads forced the bulge forward with each rep. Watching him was his girlfriend and four executives wearing suits.

"I normally do three times this weight," Kaz explained, "but this is a good warm-up and I don't want to make your readers too jealous."

Mike walked over, trying to size up the massive muscle and compare it to Tank's. Was Kaz bigger, or Tank? His mind fought to figure it out.

"Excuse me," he said. "But I think we're ready to begin."

Kaz smile. "Guys, this is Mike. He owns this gym and has been very supportive of my working out here." Kaz put the bar down, and strutted over to the smaller man. Putting his huge arm around Mike, he said, "Mike has been a great friend, helping me out hand helping me grow to the max." Kaz smiled as the photographer took a picture of them. Kaz's woman came over and felt his arm, and the photographer took another picture.

"Thanks K..."

Kaz shot him a look.

"Ron," Mike said. "I, uh, really appreciate it."

"So, Mike, how many people signed up to try and take me on," Kaz said, flexing his free arm.

"Just one," said Mike.

Kaz laughed. "I'm surprised we got even one," he said, pulling his hand off Mike's shoulder and hitting a most muscular pose. Mike looked like a deer in headlights as Kaz's body expanded and ripped large. "Who is it? Joe?"

Mike gulped. "Chris... uh, you know, Tank."

"Tank!" Kaz said, a look of surprised laughter on his face. "That wimp!" He turned to the executives laughing and said, "They call me the Kastet cause I'm a Tank killer. Kaz for short. Guy use to work out here until he saw how big and strong I was, then never came around again. Couldn't take the pressure of a bigger guy coming into the gym." Kaz smiled. "This oughta be fun. With Mike's support, I'm about 75 pounds bigger, more ripped and a lot stronger." Kaz turned to Mike. "So, where is the punk?"

"Right here," Chris's voice boomed as he walked out of the locker room, Joey a few steps behind him like a heeled dog.

Kaz glared at him, sizing up his competition. Chris's sweatsuit hid his massive physique. Kaz thought Chris looked fat, and assumed the sweatsuit was to hid his untrained physique. "It's been a long time."

"Yes," replied Chris.

"Been training hard?"

Chris shrugged. "What's first?"

Mike looked to Tank, then Kaz. Who was bigger? Stronger? It was time to find out. "Uh, bench press first, then curls, then squats. After that, we'll have the posedown."

"Let's get started," Chris said.

Ron nodded. "Sure thing fat boy. Let's see, we did 600 last time we did this. Sounds like a good warm-up."

Mike and Joe move to put 6 plates on a bar. They grabbed another 20 pounds to make it an even 605.

"I'll go first," said Kaz. He threw his arms back, stretching his massive pecs. He gave them a bounce, then sat on the bench. He laid down, the lifted the bar. With ease, he raised and lowered the bar as the watchers counted. At 18, he stopped, easily replacing the bar. "Still a bit light, but good for a bit of a pump," he said, jumping off the bench with vigor. "Do you need me to take a bit of weight off?"

"Don't bother," said Tank, taking his place under the bar. With determination, he grabbed the bar. The onlookers started counting. At 15, Chris stopped and held the bar up. After a few seconds, Ron started to say something, but Chris continued at a faster pace, doing 25 reps before he replaced the bar. "You're right, that's too light. Better put another couple plates on that."

Chris sat up and saw the hatred swelling in Ron's eyes. Chris had shown him up, and that wasn't in his plan.

Mike and Joe put another two plates on, and Ron got underneath with a new determination. He cranked out 10 quick reps. On the eleventh, he began to fail, and Joe and Mike helped him struggle to rack the weights.

Kaz stood up and Chris pushed him out of the way. "Put on two more plates," he ordered. Mike and Joe obeyed, and Chris got under the bar. He took two deep breaths, then lifted the weight, cranking out 10 reps with the same speed Kaz had done the lighter weight. He stopped, breathed deeply, then did 10 more reps before replacing the bar.

"That was 20 reps!" cried the photographer, who snapped a picture as Chris sat up.

"Still kinda light for me," said Chris. "Is this kid stuff over now?" he asked, looking at Ron who had done only half the number of reps at a lighter weight.

"Looks like Tank won this round," said Mike.

"The fuck he did," said Kaz, who pushed Mike aside and got on the bench. With a primal yell, he lifted the bar. Everyone watched as his arms shook as he lowered the weight once. Slowly he forced it up, then did a second rep, then a tentative third. On the fourth, he failed. The bar began to crush his chest as Mike and Joe tried to help him.

"Step aside," said Chris as he walked over. He stood above Ron, his legs around each of his ears. Chris grabbed the bar and lifted it up, racking it for the helpless lifter. "They said I had won," he said to Ron, who was rubbing his chest. Under his sweats, Tank flexed his stronger chest.

"That one, but next is arms and these cannons got more firepower than anyone's guns."

"Except maybe a Tank," said Chris. "I'll go first. Put on 4 plates. That's a good warm-up."

Ron's eyes widened. He knew he could do that weight, but not as a warm-up. Chris must be trying to psych him out.

Chris grabbed the bar. With a grin of confidence, he started to curl. The photographer and the suits began to count, at fifteen, he stopped, looked at Kaz, then did five more, staring at the man. With ease, he lowered the bar.

"Want me to take any off," he snickered.

"Get out of my way and let me show you how it's done." Kaz had to do it. This was his chance to make it. He was huge, and these men would pay him to be huge. He grabbed the bar. Shit, it was heavy. He started, doing curls. He did eight and his arms began to burn. He forced out two more as the fire moved down his arm. With gritted teeth, he did one more. On twelve, he failed to raise the bar. He dropped it to the ground.

"That's two for me, or do you want me to prove the power of these cannons!" Chris said, flexing his arm so that even the oversized sweatsuit strained to contain his mass. "We can put on another 50 pounds if you like? That's a good workout weight."

"Fuck you," said Kaz, his breathing heavy from the effort. "We still have legs. Remember last time, you doing 6 plates and me doing 8? Well, rack up 12 now and watch these wheels roll over you!" Ron sat and watched as Mike and Joe racked the weights. He didn't say a word, but anger swelled in his eyes, anger Kaz would use to fuel his power. With force, he got up and walked with determination to the cage. He got under the weight and lowered his ass to the ground, then exploded upward powerfully. The first rep was followed by an easy second, then third. After ten, Kaz was slowing, his massive quads pumped large and rubbing against each other as he did an eleventh rep. His face was contorted in pain as he did twelve, yet he forced out a thirteenth. His face was so red it looked as if he'd explode and sweat was pouring down every inch of his massive ripped body, but he tentatively went down for a fourteenth rep and with a scream, managed to complete it before racking the weights. "Beat that," he panted to Chris as he took a step. To make his point, he flexed one of his swollen legs, showing the rivers of veins that pumped above deep striations and cuts.

"OK," was all Chris said, as he walked over and grabbed two more plates. Adding them to either side, he did a few deep knee bends to loosen up before getting under the weight. Imitating Ron, he powered out the first 10 reps, but without stopping, did two more. He stood there, sweat pouring down his face as he nodded to Ron, then did four more reps with determination before reracking the weights. Chris's face was as red as Kaz's from the determined effort, but once again he had out-muscled Kaz.

"Do you wanna try that?" Chris asked. "I'd be happy to spot you again." Sarcasm dripped from his voice as evidence of his contempt for Ron's superior attitude -- an attitude he had proved undeserved.

At this point, Kaz looked to Joe and Mike. He realized he had been set up. The fire in his eyes was directed toward both. He stepped over to them and whispered, "You're dead men," before putting a false grin on his face. "Gee Chris, don't know how you got to be so strong, but there's another part of this competition. I'm at 4% bodyfat at 330lbs." Kaz moved his left hand to his briefs and adjusted himself, making sure the photographer and suits noticed the huge bulge. "I know most power lifter guys have high body fat to maintain their strength." Looking straight at the executives, "That's what makes me so special. Strong enough to compete with the strongest guys, but ripped and huge like no other." To make his point, he flexed into a most muscular pose that made one of the men gasp.

That was Tank's moment to act. He grabbed the top of the sweat suit and with one outward swipe of his hands, he ripped the top off, revealing his swollen pecs, cannonball shoulders, massive arms, 8 pack abs and defined obliques. Dropping th cloth, he swiped his hands down his sides then grabbed the top of the sweat pants and with the same motion, ripped them from his body, revealing thighs that looked like a 3D map, mountains and valleys rippling though he was unflexed. His cows were thick and ripped. He stood still for a second to let everyone take in the sight of him, and he heard Ron let out a slight gasp. Following Ron's example he adjusted his larger bulge in his posers. "You're probably right about most guys," said Chris. "But 360 and 3%, I guess other guys do look puny." He looked right at Ron as he said puny, letting him know his ultimate downfall was at hand. Chris walked over to Ron, bumping his chest into Ron's and making him take a step back. "We promised these good people a show, now pose. Joey, you call it."

Looking at the two combatants, he called "Side chest."

Both muscle monsters faced each other. Angling their arms, their bis and tris flexed. Twisting, abs became marble blocks with thick meaty pecs rippling to life and steely hardness. Each man sized the other up, and Chris grinned. Every muscle of his was thicker, harder, more ripped than Ron's.

Ron realized it too, and tried to flex harder, but he wasn't man enough. He tried to restrain himself, but he felt his cock pulse and start to slowly expand.

"Lats," Joey said.

The men turned forward, placed their arms on their flexing, thinning waists, flexed their man tits and spread their wings.

"God, look at him..." It was Ron's girlfriend, but she wasn't talking about Ron.

Ron looked beyond the spectators into a mirror on the other side. He compared himself to Chris and realized he looked skinny compared to the mass packed onto the giant next to him. To make things worse, Chris moved behind Ron, then flexed again, expanding his body larger than Ron's, Chris's muscular meat visible on every side of the thinner man.

Ron's cock was becoming noticably larger now as it strained in his red posers.

"Double bi"

Still behind Ron, Chris flexed his Himilayan arms. Ron had no choice but to do the same, only to see his guns dwarfed by Tank's cannons. Ron actually shook as he struggled, and failed, to flex bigger than Tank. Chris heard Ron mutter, "no" under his breath.

Chris's own manhood was expanding now, but Chris didn't care. Let everyone take in the sight of a real man. He straightened one arm into a classic archer pose, and didn't notice that the skimpy fabric of his specially made posers was failing. The fabric snapped, hitting Ron in the ass then falling to the floor at Chris's feet.

Surprised, Ron jumped to the side revealing a now naked Chris posing his winner's body. Chris's 14 inch monster was pointed toward the ceiling as he turned to the back and striking a rear lat spread.

"He's a fucking anatomy chart," he heard one of the executives say. "Look at that definition. His glutes are shredded!"

Chris turned to face front, and flexed his quad. Only now did he realize his posers had failed. He looked up, seeing ever man watching him struggle to hide an erection. Ron was subtly stroking his posers, and the photographer had a noticeable wet spot.

"Sorry," Tank said, "Didn't notice. Guess they don't make posers for guys like me."

"Ya," said Kaz's girlfriend. "Real men." She stepped forward and walked over to Chris, seemingly oblivious to Ron's presence. "God I want you to fuck me," she said, trying to wrap a hand around Chris's thick cock.


"Hey," said Ron angrily. "She's with me." Ron stepped close, trying to intimidate Chris with his own monster-like size.

"She wants a real man," said Chris, who grabbed Ron's posers and ripped them off him. "Let me give that skinny, small cock of yours some help. As you can see, mine has a mind of its own and doesn't need help when it wants its freedom." Turning to the busty woman, Tank said, "Care to compare?"

She dropped to her knees and grabbed Ron's stiff organ. She stroked both, then put her mouth over Ron's before stuffing Chris's down her throat. She pulled her hand away from Ron as concentrated both hands on Tank. Ron tried to step away, humiliated, but Chris grabbed his hard cock. He started stroking it.

"Bet it feels good to have a real man's hand on this," he said as his forearms rippled showing how hard he was squeezing Ron. Chris flexed his free bicep in Ron's face.

That was all it took. Ron shot a huge load as he screamed, "God. No! Fuck! So strong. FUCK!"

Chris laughed at Ron's humiliation. "What a fucking wimp," he said. "Ronnie, you better get a new nickname. Guess I proved you ain't no tank killer. You're just a pathetic, puny, runt. A muscle wannabe. Well, I got all the muscle here as these gentlemen can see. Now get your shit and get out of here. I'll return your girlfriend to you after I fuck her into tomorrow, that is, if she wants you after being with a real man. Me!"

Ron turned. He was visibly shaking. He ran into the locker room and came out a minute later. Not saying a word, he left the gym.

(The end)

[WED]

You should write more often

[Corwin]

Originally Posted by WED

You should write more often

ya ya ya... I've been busy... and I've been doing some hot RPs with people (cyclemuscle on yim)

My goal is to finish the two other unfinished stories. Maybe write another Mike chapter or a chapter for "one hundre one", which Josef started and I think is really a hot story line.

I have a few stories started after this. All goals. Until then, I did update the webpage with links to all my other stories.

Thanks for the push, though.

[Kymuscleboy]

Hey Corwin,

I'm glad to see the conclusion of Tank. It definitely did not disappoint. I'm really excited to see the continuations of your other stories.

[ganteugene]

Tank is one of the best stories I have ever read. Considering I read many stories on this webpage, I want to thank you, Corwin, because your stories always excite me.

[Bigmusclefan]

wow- that story is hot - more than hot - I shot several loads...

[arpeejay]

Just a quick bump. A certain someone prompted me to become reacquainted with this story -- it's one of the best musclegrowth stories I've ever read!

Totally spoogeriffic!

Thanks, Corwin!

xoxo

Richard

[fillups44]

Thanks Richard for bumping this up!!! A good reminder of the muscle domination of Tank and Corwin himself!!

Thanks to Corwin for writing this and here's hoping he posts more often!!!

[inm]

Corwin, that story is amazingly great. Youve merged gay and str8 , strength and size, muscles and sex in such erotic power. Great story!