HEX FILES1: BROAN OVA BRAYNS
Two Law School Students Run afoul of Everybody’s Favorite Mystic
Hex-files #1: Broan Ova Brayns
( All disclaimers Apply- This is a tale of non-consensual Gay sex, Muscle, transformation, mind control and revenge…these might be a few of my favorite things but if yours are Rain drops on roses or any of that nonsense don’t read on…)
Move over Boys, the bitch is back- The HEXFILES- Follows the storyline started in “That Old Black Magic” series- Some of the same characters appear- but its not necessary to read them before diving into this- but It wouldn’t hurt-
Ya Know, It Ain’t Easy being me.
One Minute you’re a morose little recluse college student with a bad attitude and flair for sarcasm.
The next minute you’re a morose college student with a bad attitude and a flair for black Magic…
Still one more minute and your trapped inside a strangers life and you’re a pleasant, jovial, mother friggin engaging even- bartender with a wide smile and a comforting shoulder.
Well at least the bartender’s hat is only for today. Sometimes I vaguely remember that my normal headdress used to be a nice pointed black piece with the occasional spider hanging from it’s brim.
But that was what seemed a long time ago.
If there was one skill I never mastered in life and I’ve mastered a lot, it’s interacting with people in a service capacity. I’m not some snotty holier then though who would rather be on the receiving end of the service with a smile either. I’m the kind of guy who gets embarrassed when a waitress looks like her trays to heavy or the cabbie calls me sir. Now I certainly don’t like the way these God Damn law students keep looking at me like later I should be pulling them around in a rickshaw or mucking out the stables while singing a spirited native song.
It might be the fact that I hate the service industry or it may be just the fact that I despise….since people in my position aren’t technically supposed to hate…so despise is about as emphatic as I’m aloud. So anyway I despise Law students especially of the ivy league variety. I think people who go to ivy league schools and wear little emblems are the kind of people who put Martha Stewart in charge of style in this county….you got it white people.
And that’s no joke, there are three black men in this room and no black women, now compare that to the listed two hundred that I’m supposedly serving.
I thought preppy law students with smug grin’s and callous attitudes were the congregation of 80’s TV stereotyping the yuppie generation. Turns out LA Law was right -these bastards really do exist. And they were existing all around me. Tight fisted trust fund babies with names like, Brad and Douglas, knocking back imported beer and speaking about the economy the way most people discuss the climate in far away places, like Uganda or Paraguay. Maybe I’m just a little testy because the silver spoon hasn’t exactly been dipping into my tip jar, which I might take to shaking like a dehydrated prisoner praying for rain outside his cell window.
I need the money it’s just embarrassing my day gig at the gym isn’t exactly paying the bills
. Once upon a time, I can remember dimly, if this girl needed money well then hell she’d just spin straw into gold. That’s one of the upsides of being a witch. Freed from the mortal burden of materialism. When you realize you can have anything you want you basically decide to give up competing on that plane and invest in a solid pair of boots and a comfy chair….and perhaps a flat screen TV and an open credit account at the neighborhood Deli.
…But I haven’t been that man in almost a year. He seems like some kind of fond memory of someone I used to know. And it’s really stating to grieve me…
Now I have to do ridiculous things like shlep beers to pampered ingrates for 6 hours of my Saturday night while I could be spending my evening doing something fun…like sleeping.
It’s not like my position here is really necessary. If the damn caterer had thought ahead and invested in beers with twist off caps, I wouldn’t have a damn thing to do.
“Oh Thank God at least the bartender’s Hot.” I heard a very forceful feminine voice say from behind me.
I put the glass I was polishing down and turned. Oh good I get the opportunity to be hit on by yet another naive heterosexual girl. I mean aren’t these girls supposed to be in law school? They’re powers of deduction and reason are a little under developed if they’re hitting on me.
I’m impeccably kept from my clean fingernails to my very discreetly styled eyebrows.
Add that to the 220 lbs of six foot obsessively built muscle and my boy like charm.
Yes, counselor the bartenders a fag, a big ole Mary to be exact -bark up another tree baby you ain’t got the bone I’m looking for.
The Two Girls who sat in front of me were cute college girl types…that’s about as descriptive as I get with women. Their either cute, fat or honorable…honorable being the word I use when physical description would be unkind but that they have a nice personality. Women are like dead Air to me. Half the time I don’t even notice they’re in the room.
The one girl was blonde with a shy unassuming smile and the other had dark hair and a sophisticated authority. I say it was sophisticated because she had more Gucci on then Tom Ford.
“My name’s Heather,” She pointed to the cute girl with the humble but inviting smile, “that’s Jody.”
“Hi,” the little blonde waved.
“Evening ladies what can I get for you tonight?”
“Two Cosmopolitan’s up, please.”
“right away.” I knelt down into the bartenders well and began my vodka alchemy.
The Dark Haired one, Heather, asked "Has anyone ever told you how striking your eyes are handsome.
I looked up, “I’d be lying to you if told you no.”
I thought you’d say that." She said with a flip of her dark hair. She was laying it on pretty thick, and she seemed like a nice girl so I was putting a stop to this right now, “I appreciate it more when it comes from an intelligent woman like yourself.” The smile got wider, oh well time to sink the knife in, “IT really sucks when you hear it from a sweaty guy on a dance floor whose pupils are so dilated he could see through solid steel.”
She considered my statement for a minute and then dropped her head onto the bar in grief. “I Knew it.” She yelled furiously into her hands.
Jody gave me a wink and giggled “I told you Heather.”
“Of Course he’s GAY!” Heather said angrily, “HE’s cute. HE’s polite. And he hasn’t given us that creepy shark look yet….UGH!”
“Sorry” I said with a beaming smile.
“It’s alright.” Jody giggled.
“Great, why did I drink three martini’s and squeeze into this skirt….I could be at home watching some crime show…” Heater said miserably.
“There’s plenty of guys here.” I offered. None I’d let lay one hand on me ….but we were talking quantity not quality.
“These rejects?” Heather asked incredulously. “oh yeah Line em up. Reformed high school losers more interested in bagging you now cause cooler guys got to do it in high school…Oh and trust fund babies with silver spoons…Whoopee. I can feel my ring finger itching already!”
“Sore subject?” I asked with a bemused smile.
“Very sore.” Heather answered.
“C’mon Heather let’s just drink our drinks and go ho…..Holy Fuck!” Jodi’s cute little head swung around faster then a bullet. She quickly hid her head in her hands. “I thought you said he wasn’t going to be here!” she snarled.
Heather turned and started to apologize as she looked into the mingling crowd. “Oh God Jo…they said he’d be at his parent’s house in California.”
In no time the girls were joined in front of me by what I must admit were to incredibly attractive men. Both tall with crisp clothes and haircuts. I could tell right away though that there was something wrong with them. To much white in the smile. There’s something about a toothy Cheshire grin from a twenty something that makes me think of Martha’s vineyard and weekends at Hianous port.
They were I guess the same height about 6 foot. One had dark auburn hair falling to his ears, the other dark locks that were gelled into a smooth arc from his forehead to the back of his neck.
They were definitely tapping into a very Ben affleck Mat Damon kinda vibe.
It was like to soap opera Lothario’s just fell into my lap, and I could tell because my lap was purposefully responding.
“Heather, Jodi, I didn’t expect to see you here.” The brown doe eyed boy said oozing charm all over my bar.
“Or so much of you,” the dark haired boy murmured slyly.
Both girls stared ahead, unmoving.
“Go away Kyle.” Jodi asked not turning to them.
Both boys casually ignored me. Then again there kind usually do, it’s best to ignore the HELP. The brunette, obviously Kyle, put his hand on her shoulder, “Aww c’mon Jodi, I haven’t seen you since that party at The SIGMA house, and you left so quickly that I never got to say goodbye.”
Jodi fixed Kyle with an icy glare, “I’m sorry the paramedic’s were in such a rush to pump my stomach I forgot.”
Kyle’s confidant eyes seemed to wince a little but he quickly recovered, "That was such a shame, why don’t you let me and Chris buy you a drink as penance, " he pleaded cajolingly.
That was apparently Heather’s breaking pint. She turned her stool and rounded on the poster boys. “Why so you can doctor them again? what do you think we are idiots!” She fumed. “Get away right now Pussy.”
Kyle’s eyes darkened, “I don’t know what your talking about.”
“Like hell you don’t.”
Dark haired Chris interceded at that point, “C’mon Kyle, we’re obviously interrupting them, lets sit down I’m hungry.”
Kyle smiled again looking for all the world like an angelic little rugby player, “Yeah I bet their on the job. The way their dressed their probably meeting a Client.” He laughed.
Chris laughed right along, “Yeah gotta pay for books some way.”
Heather fumed, “You can’t treat me like…”
“A whore?” Kyle offered. “I don’t think anyone would blame me. Your sitting here advertising like white trash, using all that body to get attention.”
Chris slid up closer to her, his breath against her hairline, “Nothing wrong with it baby, you got all that shit, you gotta show it off…it’s your job.”
“I’ve seen your Grades Heather,” Kyle said putting a comforting hand on her bare shoulder, she in turn recoiled from his touch, “It’s obviously all you good for. Function does follow form after all”
And here I stood. Watching all this nonsense. And not doing a Damn thing. Why would I? It’s none of my business I’m just the Bartender. Just your average every day shmoo with a glass and a rag. But something, that I thought had been locked away along time ago was waking up at the back of my mind. Blowing cobwebs off it’s shackles and stirring.
“You son of a bitch.” Jodi swore.
Chris looked over heather at her little blonde sidekick, “don’t be jealous just cause you got the brains and she’s got the tits Jo- I’d still fuck ya.” Then he turned and grinned. “Only once, but id still fuck ya.”
"With what, that limp little dick, I don’t think so, " she snorted.
“Let’s get out here,” Kyle turned, “I’d stay but I obviously can’t afford your price.”
“What gives you the right…” Heather accused her dark tresses shaking violently.
Kyle Gave Heather an undisguised look of disgust, “If you don’t want to be treated like a slut don’t dress like one.”
Chris laughed leering at Heather’s exposed flesh, “Yeah I can tell by that cover that your book’s got lots of four letter words in it.”
“So stop being such a bitch and let me stick my bookmark in.” Kyle laughed.
Is this how straight people mate? It’s quite disturbing.
Heather seemed so shook that she just turned away and whispered, “Get away from me pig.”
If there’s one thing I hate to see, is a strong woman forced by shame to crumble. It’s just heartbreaking.
“Let’s roll -this Eye Candy is too expensive.”
And they both sauntered back into the throng.
Heather grabbed her bag and ran to the ladies room, her mascara running down her face in black rivers.
Jodi looked at me and sighed. I numbly handed her a new drink. “On the house” I offered.
She smiled a wane smile and downed it. “they’ve been doing that shit for three years. Kyle and her went on one date, she turned him down, and we’ve had to sit through little scenes like that sporadically ever since.”
“No one’s put a stop to it?” I asked.
“Kyle’s parents are Alumni, Chris’s won so many medals for track in under Grad that they got him his own trophy case at the school- me and Heather are just two poor little match girls on Scholarship.”
“Someone should do something.” I said stupidly.
“Yeah,” she nodded already having resigned herself to the reality of the situation, that no one was going to. Those guys are to big for their britches and to smart for their own good."
Her surrender to it was so sad that I turned away and came face to face with my own reflection in the liqueur cabinets glass surface.
Crystal blue eyes stared back at me.
Someone should….I should…but how?
Snap. Crackle. POP.
And then I smiled.
Now to say that I snapped would give you an undue feeling that I had taken a turn for the worse, that’s simply not true-
I just suddenly got it together to admit who and what
I was. Breaking surface and back into reality.
Like I had just broken a Spell.
What the fuck?
I mean really what the fuck?
What the hell have I been doing for the past year?
I was suddenly back in full control, seems like that was just the kiss my fairy princess ass needed.
And now I had to thank Kyle and Chris the only way I knew how…
And then I merrily dropped the glass I was holding, right to the floor. “Jody, if you’ll excuse me, it seems I have work to do.” I irritably rubbed the stubble on my head.
Shaved hair? Where the fuck was all my hair? “And change into something more comfortable.” I added.
She just watched me as I wandered away. My mind over brimming with knowledge I had locked away so long ago.
I made my way towards the door, frantic servers, ran passed me as I strode purposefully towards the men’s room. People looked at me strangely as I went directly to the sinks and their large mirrors.
Just like riding a bike. Sure there wasn’t any fox root or nightshade for me to use like the proper spell would have required……but you work with what you have. Vaults opened in my mind. Long locked doors swinging open with exuberant squeals.
I though quickly rummaging through, old hex’s, dead religion, and ancient languages. For a moment I considered a rather nasty Syrian enchantment but that was just me trying to show off my education after several months of gross misuse. Instead an idea formed in my mind, and the harsh rasping guttural words of an old gypsy charm took shape. A curse from one of the caravans that called eastern Prussia Home…
I chuckled in spite of myself….there’s that gleeful megalomaniac I remembered.
Faucets turned on by themselves, glass broke, and the lights began to flicker and to undulate. The customers busy with their localized catastrophe and escaping it, didn’t hear me quietly muttering old languages that filled my head like an unleashed river.. I thought of the spell as I concentrated on their…“Reward”.
Too big for their britches…huh I’ll show them too Big.
Too smart for their own good….I’ll show them too smart.
Ugh but first, to do something about this image staring back at me. The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive Titles · Authors · Categories · Readers’ Picks · What’s New · Make a Donation >
Hex-files #1: Broan Ova Brayns Chapter 2 Kyle and Chris strutted happily to the parking lot
“So, did she say she could get me a friend?” Chris was almost begging.
“Relax, Chris she gave me her number I’ll call her first thing tomorrow and set something up.” He turned the small piece of paper over in his hands, a phone number and the name “Sherry” scrawled on it. “Night turned out just fine anyway.” he said smugly.
“Now you might just be calling the game before the final quarter.” a whimsical voice said from in front of them.
They both looked up stunned. The guy who stood before Kyle and Chris was tall with broad shoulders. He seemed to be muscular and compact, underneath his big red t-shirt and baggy red corduroy pants. He wore a fireball red ball cap backwards and two luminous blue eyes stared back at them from underneath. “howdy boys” he said in a musical deep voice.
“who’s that?” Chris whispered.
“I don’t know just ignore him man, probably some loser freshman.” Kyle answered getting ready to slide into his jeep.
“Beep, Beep, who got the keys to the jeep?” The guy smiled, “I do.” He held up what looked like Kyle’s keys tauntingly.
“what the hell?” Kyle snapped looking into his now empty hands.
“You gentlemen aren’t going no where’s, ya see.” The man in red slurred as he came closer, strolling near them happily.
“You boys should feel lucky, I got out of this business. Was going to get myself a nice little antique shop or something….but it seems whenever I try to get out,” he brought his fists violently into his chest, “they pull me back in.” he laughed to himself approvingly.
“Kyle I think he’s a lunatic, you know how the drug addicts in the city can be.” Chris spat distastefully.
“Look get aware from the car waste, or I’ll set of my alarm and twenty cops will be here to take you back to the ward.”
“Yeah dude like all mental patient have as nice a dye job as me!” He laughed pulling off the hat to reveal a shock of industrial blonde hair. It was so light it could have been white except for a glint of maniacal yellow, an almost toxic blonde.
The red clad figure stopped and juggled the keys idly. “Now what to do with you two. I’ve already decided of course but I do like to play with my food before I eat it.”
He flashed them a curiously feline grin that stretched his hard tanned jaw like the Cheshire Cat’s.
“I don’t have time for this,” Kyle grated in frustration.
“Give over the keys freak.” Chris snorted.
“Me the freak? Ha! you don’t know the meaning of the word. You boys treated those girls like bimbo’s just cause of how they looked…and when you realized how dumb they weren’t…You tried a more aggressive approach….So if your going to choose brawn over brains , then I’m going to leave you welcome to it.”
Kyle and Chris exchanged a quick glance of awkward disbelief, “That’s it I’m calling a cop,” Chris warned bringing his cell phone to his ear.
“Fabulous idea!” The blonde exclaimed, “and then we just get the girls out here to tell them all about the Rohypnol cocktails u tried to douse em in at that party Jodi mentioned, and we’ll be able to make the morning papers.” he clapped happily.
“Those cunts are lying!” Kyle yelled with the knee jerk response of the terminally guilty.
“Yeah I’m sure,- alright, im done playing,” The blonde hair fell in the guy’s eyes and he sighed heavily, “bored now.” Then his smile flashed again and his icy blue eyes seemed to glow with an unnatural light, “Oh yeah I still got it,”
The wind picked up and howled around them, whipping the nearby leaves in a frenzy of movement. The blonde’s hands swung into motion, and it seemed to the boys that he was orchestrating some wildly erratic symphony. He brought one tanned forearm down in a wicked slice and it was punctuated with a thunderclap.
The wind died. The howl silenced, and Kyle’s hand anxiously held his keys again, in a tentative grasp.
Meanwhile the blonde had a look of undescribable joy on his face, He knocked his long bangs aside for a quick crystalline wink. He sauntered up to were the two men stood stock still. Both Kyle and Chris tried to flinch from him but found themselves rapt and immobile.
A wicked look played across his face. He brought his hands up and caressed both their jawline, and in a harsh feigned accent he said “BIe…GG…EhR!” And then laughed bobbing away, “Be careful driving home….” and then spoke again in that guttural fake accent “White men from town …”
As Kyle and Chris climbed limply into the jeep, The guy in red slipped on his fireball ball cap and began to glide away on swift dancing feet,…“Back in business, and ain’t it grand…let the good times roll…” His melodic baritone wafted passed the window….
Ch 2 Kyle felt kind of light headed the next day. It was strange him and Chris coming home and going, right to bed. They usually spent half the night over cups of coffee and their limitless class work. But both of them seemed to tumble head first into bed without a thought.
He completely ignored any thought but the over whelming urge to eat. HE bolted into the kitchen in a frenzy and found Chris awake and already devouring half the inhabitants of their fridge. Instinctively Kyle cracked about a dozen eggs and drank the whites down without a though and then grabbed for oatmeal. Ravening on half a container. He looked over numbly as Kyle began to attack a half of a chicken that had been leftover. Not even bothering to use a fork or knife.
They ate in intent silence. Staring at their food. Both gorging themselves like underwear clad barbarians. Kyle could never remember being this hungry in his whole life.
After they had almost decimated everything in their kitchen. They slumped into their chairs exhausted.
Kyle had the naggin feeling he was supposed to be doing something.
“What time is it?” it was the first time he talked all morning and his voice came out in a deep throaty rumble. He must be getting sick…
“10:42” Chris answered not bothering to look at him.
Kyle pounded up shaking the perpetual dullness in his head away, “we’re going to be late man!”
Chris turned to him confused, “For what?”
Kyle couldn’t remember, all he could really fathom out was that they were supposed to be somewhere and that he hadn’t done any of his class work…He clapped his ands together in triumph, “Class!”
“Oh yeah,” Chris said.
Kyle bounded into his room, Chris followed apprehensively, and then after sometime spoke up, “uhm….Kyle…I don’t remember what classes I have today.” he admitted.
Kyle paused getting ready to lay into his friend about being stupid or lazy but found that he too couldn’t quite figure out what classes were on his itinerary today…“Uh then we should just uhm take all our books…then at least we’ll be ready for whatever…”
Kyle began to gather up all the text books that lay discarded around his room. Jesus their were so many! Did he really need all these…he must… He was packing a big heavy bag when Chris once again came into his room still only covered by the bare fabric of his white briefs, “Uh Kyle…” he wined.
“What now!” Kyle asked, stepping carelessly on the bag with one heavy foot to make all the books fit.
Chris looked down dejected, “I can’t find anything to wear.”
“What?” Kyle asked as he continued violently pounding his precious books into the straining bag. “Something clean man,” he explained, “put on something clean.” that seemed right. And reasonable.
“huh?” He stopped attacking his expensive literature and then turned to his own closet, he picked up a polo and a button down. He didn’t even have to pull them over his head to realize they were ridiculously to small, “did u shrink our stuff when you did the laundry?” he yelled.
“No,” and then Chris began to absently scratch his dangling bulge in thought, “uh…at least I don’t think so..”
“Shit.” he swore. It took him the better part of an hour to rummage through discarded clothes, finally only able to fit into what had once been a baggy track suit. He gave Chris careful instructions, and he eventually too came back dressed, in close fitting sweats.
“We’re going to be so late,” Kyle fumed as he heaved the bag onto his shoulders.
“I feel funny Kyle,” Chris told him.
“Whatever dude just get in the goddamn jeep.” he admittedly felt strange too but he was focused and ready to get out.
They both got in the car, but Kyle found himself stupefied behind the steering wheel. He stared at it, and all the different gauges on the dash, tentatively touching his gear shift and testing the three pedals on the floor.
Chris looked at him, “I think you have to put the key in first.” he offered.
Kyle breathed a vast sigh of relief that seemed to fill his chest deeper then it had ever been, “Thanks.”
He clumsily started the car and they were off.
They drove into town in silence, Kyle went up and down various streets, turning and shifting but when they came to a sudden stop light, he turned to his friend in lost distraction, “Chris….uh where are we going?”
Chris looked at him shocked, “I thought you knew.”
“I do Kyle” insisted then his brow dropped honestly, “I…just can’t remember,”
They sat at the stoplight lost in abject thought oblivious to the cars beeping behind them and swerving around them, drivers lifting single center digits into the air at them. The light changed about three times as they sat. Then Chris said, “Well we’re dressed in our gym clothes…and we have a gym bag…”
“We must be going to the gym!” Kyle agreed.
The gym seemed terribly different to Kyle as he went in. Machines he had once never understood, now beckoned to him. Nautilus systems that seemed to complicated were now beneath him.
He and Chris spent what seemed like days pressing and lifting insane amounts of weight, which now seemed perfectly reasonable. He did however grow uncomfortable at the strange way the other people in the gym seemed to stare at them both as they moved around the free weight room.
Their regular workouts had only ever consisted of purely ornamental weight lifting, more about impressing girls in sports bra’s doing cardio then any actual strain.
However the two boys felt possessed with a need to break every muscle group down to absolute failure. Which for some reason seemed almost impossible today. Neither really thought to question the amazing weight they were lifting, solely absorbed with the task of their titanic workout.
Absorbed in a trance like state- they began Bench presses, adding 45’s to the bar like they were 10’s, growling and moaning as each catastrophic rep sent them into a painful mind numbing body euphoria.
When their Chest’s seemed to spurt fire- they merely switched the angle of the bench and the height of the bar and began lifting the impossible weight in an over head motion, collapsing their shoulders in strain.
Kyle wanted to stop, was begging to stop but he couldn’t let himself. He wanted more. He needed more pain. He was able to move his shoulder, that wasn’t good enough.
And still the strange attention continued. He now began to wonder if it wasn’t from the roaring and screaming he and Kyle were directing at each other. So lost in pain and exertion that they didn’t even hear anything but each others brutal animal urging. “GET IT UP PUNK!”
“FUCKING HEFT THAT BAR PUSSY”
Kyle had always thought that guys yelling and hollering at each other over their sets was juvenile and pubescent but for some reason he felt compelled to participate in it, and to his chagrin found his barely contained dick twitching every time he heard Chris’s voice ring in his ears or when he would loudly berate Chris.
“C’mon BITCH MY SISTER CAN LIFT MORE! PUSH THROUGH!”
His embarrassment at the attention was however compounded when they were doing squats in the leg room. “One more!” Chris roared in his ear and in angry compliance, He squatted to the floor- the heavy bar hardly grasped in his shaking hands, he plowed back up and heard the sound of a terrible and audible tear. He fumbled the bar back onto the restraints, and turn toward the mirror. The Plastic fabric of his track pants hand ripped wide apart, leaving his brief covered ass uncovered by a long trench.
“Shit. We gotta get outa here.”
Chris gave him sad little boy look, “But we haven’t even done our hamstrings yet!?”
“Dude everyone can see my ass.”
“I’m leaving,” Kyle snorted, his face flushing furiously.
They hurried to the exit, knocking over magazines and vendor products on the way, “hey watch it big guy!” some guy warned as Kyle almost trampled him at the door.
Kyle ignored him and fought for the privacy of his jeep.
One inside the safety of the cab, sweating and disoriented Chris calmed down slightly. He was busy readjusting his pants, his cock having sprung to full life for some reason. His shame had somehow compounded with the energy of the intense workout to cause his groin to respond in full force. His rigid cock tented the track pants, and he had to control himself from touching it. The image of his ass being exposed from his exertion became strangely sexual.
“I’m hungry.” Chris demanded from beside him, also clumsily hiding an obvious erection.
Kyle Lurched the Jeep forward awkwardly stumbling over the stick transmission…why were there so many pedals…were there always this many pedals?
His own hunger began to overwhelm him and he stopped at the first store they passed, pulling haphazardly to the curb and then over it with the front wheel.
They searched the poorly stocked store in search of sustenance…or as Kyle put it in a rumbling gurgle FOOD! Kyle wrapped a sweatshirt around his expose waist and struggled to tie it tight as they went in.
They waded past the deli counter, thoughts of subs and sandwiches were quickly denied by his foggy brain…too many carbs, too much high fat protien/ It seemed odd…he’d always been happy with a few chips for lunch…But he now instinctively knew he NEEDED protien, pure muscle building genetic material.
They unceremoniously grabbed two coffee cups and began breaking eggs into them, discarding the yellow suns of the yolk into a trash can. They grabbed handfuls of protein bars and headed to the counter with the empty egg cartons.
The girl at the counter looked wearily at the empty cartons but rang them through anyway.
Kyle felt a light up draft under his sweatshirt…“We got to get some new clothes,” he announced to Chris who was absorbed in the magazine rack.
“These guys dress like this.” Chris offered. Staring at a magazine called, “M-U-S-C-L-E M-A-G”
Kyle looked over his shoulder at pages of huge Guys demonstrating almost all the workouts they had just accomplished.
“Maybe we should try and find some stuff like this?” Chris asked.
“wow these guys do look like us!” Kyle agreed.
“Then we ought to dress like they do! I mean that’s how we’re supposed to dress like. And all our clothes don’t fit for some reason.” Chris reasoned slowly.
It took their combined effort for almost an hour to puzzle out a retailer in the area and even then they had to ask stop and a bewildered sales girl at the desk of the convenience store for directions.
They both squeezed into Kyle’s Jeep, delts pressing together in the front bucket seats. “this car is too small.”
“No its not” Kyle provided, absently cupping his balls through the material of his sweats, “we’re to big!” the both laughed hardily shaking the jeep and their squished together torso’s.
The store had the imposing figure of an impossibly built guy in neon lights in front. Kyle and Chris stared in awe of the imposing sign for about 20 minutes before numbly entering the store.
A guy looked up from the counter in front, he gave them a look of expectation and awe. “Wow, good afternoon gentlemen.”
“Hi” the answered in unison and then giggled at their response.
“What can I do for you guys? It’s not often we get Professionals in here, this’ll be a treat.” he said.
Kyle nodded dimly, professionals right. He must know that they were lawyers. He must be very smart.
“We need new clothes,” Chris stammered, “none of ours fit.”
The guy nodded knowingly, “I bet That’s an occupational hazard for beasts like you two.”
Chris gave him a blank look back, “occu? Wha?”
“Let me show you some of the gear we have in double XL,” he said brushing it off.
The clothes the guy showed them seemed to be somehow wrong to Kyle but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. For one thing the were so…bright. And it seemed like everything was from this place called GOLDSGYM, he’d never heard of that label before.
He however differed to the man’s opinion out of a deep need to get into anything but his ripped track pants.
He grabbed some stuff the guy had offered and bolted to the swinging doors of a makeshift changing room. Kyle stripped and discarded his clothes and quickly legged himself into a pair of pants the guy gave him. At least he thought they were pants. But as he tugged them furiously up his leg, they clung to his skin like lycra. They were tights! The guy had handed him a pair of ridiculous red and black striped tights! What the fuck!
He grabbed the red Stringy tant top on top of the pile. It was loose around him the strings reaching his abdomen leaving his chest completely exposed, the strings tantalizingly crossing over his nipples.
He stormed out the small room and stood in horror at the scene in front of him. Chris apparently impatient had begun to change right in the middle of the store.
Chris was knee deep in a pair of garish parachute pants, and bare chested. The salesman had his hands wrapped around Chris’s firm member.
“What the fuck!” Kyle yelled.
Chris looked over his shoulder with a dopey grin, “He’s measuring my in-seem.”
The guy coughed uncomfortably.
“Let’s just go,” Kyle ordered. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but something seemed to be terribly wrong with what Chris said, And stranger still he felt somewhat dejected that Chris got the guys attention instead of him, His own dick broad against the tight’s.
They picked up three cases of Shakes and headed to the counter. “You know if you guys would like a sponsor for your next competition I’m sure I could talk to one of my vendors.”
Kyle was perplexed. What was this guy talking about. “Ah sure…” Then he pulled out his check book. It took him three tries to get the check right. The numbers kept swimming around in front of him, making no sense. Then he even put down the wrong name, spelling the word Crunch instead.
“Hey guys just to show how much I appreciate the patronage, You can have these at no cost.” He pulled out to huge Weight belts, with wide front buckles. When he gave Chris his belt he gave the boy an affectionate pat on his ass. Chris smiled broadly. Then they both heaved their heavy clothes and protein filled bags over their shoulders and strutted out of the store like to prize steers.
When they got outside, Kyle wandered aloud, "I wonder why he gave us these?’ He said holding up the weight belt. The wide face of the Belt hada word emblazoned in big letters on the front- but Kyle disregarded and trudged on toward the jeep.
Chris smiled that dim-witted smile he seemed to be sporting all day and grabbed at his rock hard cock through the ugly yellow and red pants, “You heard him…He said he liked my Patronage!”
But Kyle was totally ignoring his groping and boasting.
The barber pole and hanging Shop sign had caught Kyle’s attention as soon as they had left the store. He couldn’t take his eyes off it. The closer he got the more it seemed to catch hold of him until he and Chris were standing there in front of the shop window.
Almost without a thought Kyle huddled Chris through the screen door and they both stood in silence in the doorway.
“Hi there, bro. What can I do you for today?” said the barber. He was tall and wore a beat up canvas blouse and an old pair of boots.
“I think I need a haircut,” Kyle answered a bit reticently.
“Well, that’s what I’m here for,” said the barber. “Get in the chair.”
Kyle lumbered over to the chair, discarding his new Gold’s gym Sweatshirt on a nearby chair.
At once he felt an incredible sense of relief. The barber spread a white cape over his tight t-shirt and wrapped a paper collar round his neck.
“Wow you sure are a big guy huh?”
“Uh-huh,” said Kyle. His mind was foggy about that, but it felt so good to be off his feet- his hunches were screaming in pain from the dead lifts that morning.
The Barber grabbed his scissors and electric razor and looked expectantly at Kyle through the mirror. Kyle just stared back numbly and in the drawn out pause scratched his balls through the cape.
"The Barber gave him a quizzical look and then asked “so how do you want me to do?”
“Uh Cut my hair” Kyle grunted back.
Another long pause.
The barber rolled his eyes, “how do you want me to cut it?” He asked patiently.
Kyle fumbled with the thought for a moment and then craned his neck to look at Chris for help. Chris just shrugged his big shoulders, his delts rippling under the fabric of his wind breaker…. “er…With scissors I guess.”
The barber sighed irritably, “Look kid how do you usually get you hair styled.” he said slowly.
Kyle baulked at that- he tried to remember his last haircut but it seemed as if he couldn’t get passed anything that happened before that morning. He strained his thought, his eyes full off concentration.
The barber however was growing impatient. “Look tell you what, I’ve had guys like you come in before, I know exactly what your kind likes.” he said with heavy tones of condescension.
“Good.” Kyle smiled. Happy to be over that hurdle, he didn’t really want to have to stress about remembering his last haircut. He was so pleased that he didn’t even notice the razor gently slicing off his long brown locks with villainous ease. The feeling of the razor’s cold teeth against his scalp lulled Kyle into a pleasant stupor. He happily fell under the barber’s spell and only switched every so often to readjust his seemingly permanent hard on.
Kyle jerked back to reality and found a stranger staring at him from the mirror- his buddies had always called him a pretty-boy in the emasculating way guys demean each other. But now he could fine no sign of the pretty boy. He didn’t even recognize the brute who stared back at him with a clenched jaw and surprised grimace. His hair had been almost completely shaved off down in a tight army crew. Their was however a sharp wedge of Brown spike right at the top of his skull. It made his whole face seem longer and wider, like that little patch of hair just stretched his face farther down all the way to his thick neck, that blended in with his wide jawline.
It made him look almost apelike.
“Wha….?” He started to protest.
But the barber just began brushing the wisps off hair his big neck with a soft brush, “Yeah now you’ll blend in with all the other Jar heads.” he mumbled irritably.
Jarhead. Yeah That’s what it looked like. Like his big simian face was a huge jar protruding from his traps with the little patch of hair on top capping him off.
“Me next!” Chris clapped idiotically behind them.
They didn’t speak much on the way home. Neither could really think of anything to say. IT was actually getting hard to think at all.
The crowded jeep ride back to their shared bachelor pad was eerily silent. Except for the incessant itching both men seemed to be occupied by. Chris and Kyle both seemed oddly fascinated by the polished smoothness of their stubbly skulls and irritably annoyed at the skin underneath their clothing. Kyle clawed at his hairy thigh, and Chris rubbed angrily at his lightly furred chest.
They got through the front door and heaved their stuff into a corner. They ate in silence as well. Each man quietly downing two protein shakes mixed with a half dozen or so raw eggs, and chicken breast. They seemed insatiable.
When they had finished their ravenous attack they sat down on their couch and tried to recover their bearings.
Kyle was the first to speak, “I think we forgot to do something today.”
“Huh?” Chris looked up from his intense scratching of his darkly hairy calf.
“Did we do everything we were supposed to day?”
Chris considered it for awhile and then looked at his friend speculatively, “We went to the gym right?”
A huge wave of relief played on Chris’s face. “Good, I guess we did then.”
Kyle paused, “Yeah I guess but…” There was something else…something about anthro..or socio…something or other and the phone number of some little scrawny girl named….but he couldn’t concentrate on anything but the itching, “Dammit!” he swore scathing his forearms with his fingernails.
Chris stood up suddenly “We didn’t’ shave today!”
Kyle considered it but then shook his head heavily, “No I shaved in the shower…”
“Your face.” Chris corrected.
“But what about everything else?” he asked looking disgusted at his vieny arms.
Chris turned and picked up one of the discarded magazines, “P-U-M-P” Kyle read the cover with a lot of effort, confused for some reason by the vowel sound of the letter U, “All these guys are all hairless…it’s probably while we’re itchin’ so much dude-buddy!”
It seemed like a ridiculous suggestion for a minute, but then …it would stop the itching.
The both numbly and somewhat reluctantly went to their shared bathroom. It was strange but the once spacious room now seemed cramped and uncomfortable with the two of them in their.
“You’re going to have to help me,” Chris said sullenly as he uncapped the shaving foam and selected a razor," There are ah…some places I won’t be able to reach." They turned on the hot shower letting the steam build, trying not to make eye contact with one another. It seemed that it should be truly fucking bizarre for both of them to be in their fucking skivvies with each other in the bathroom.
Chris Leaned his frame against the wall of the bathroom with half bent with his legs straddling either side of the toilet. His legs spread wide and his body tensed with a soldiers precision. He had stripped down to his briefs, and Kyle was shocked at the sight of his buddy spread eagle and willing to let his buddy shave off all of his hair. Not just his chest or back. All of it. Kyle took a tentative stoke with the razor up the length of his friends thigh. Cutting a 3 inch swath of smoothness. It was electric. Just to see that rock hard pink skin hidden underneath all that obtrusive hair…
Chris needed to be smooth. The hair was hiding such a hot body. Kyle was doing him a huge favor. He washed off the razor and continued his shaving in an inspired awe. Just watching the sanative skin undulating under his ministrations…it almost seemed to be relieved that the unnatural obstruction to it’s perfection was gone.
He finished with Chris’s thigh and marveled at all the muscles that were there. How could you see all that rock hard sensual definition with all that fucking hair….it seemed like inside the steamy bathroom he was revealing who…what Chris really was.
He hurriedly continued down the calf, Brushing long strokes down the curves of his friends vascular and straining hamstrings.
He paused when he got to the foot, delicately shaving off even the light dusting on his toes and ankles. No hair anywhere! Smooth as rock.
He sliced tufts of malignant hair from his friends other thigh. Gradually becoming disgusted at himself for not ever noticing it before. Why did he let himself and Chris get so Hairy and unkept?
He grabbed a pair of scissors and began to attack the veritable forest under his friends pits. They needed to be smooth, the Delt and his Pec would be so much more defined. He linger over the sweet sanative untouched skin under his friends arm. Gently scratching away all the unwanted mess. He had the odd thought that he might look strange with no arm put hair…. but quickly rejected it. And then lovingly finished the other.
He turned then to the light hair on Chris’s shoulder blades, revealing each massive wing of his buddies back, “careful of the Acne…” Chris Mumbled. And for the first time Kyle noticed curious little red marks and the occasional large out break that dotted the stretched and touch skin.
Chris then took the Razor from him and began to shave large trails down his chest. Kyle watched in rapt fascination as Chris denuded his tits of the dark hair. He didn’t even realize he had begun to massage his massive hard on.
Chris Finished his chest and his big Masculine tits stood out etched in rock solid skin. He smiled and sliced through his bunny trail. Even removing himself of the tantalizing treasure trail he had once secretly adored.
He slid his own boxers down revealing a large swollen purple dick that seemed to ache with excitement. The cock wobbled in Front of Kyle’s astonished eyes.
Chris had just taken his dick out in front of him? He had never seen his friends Cock, yet their it was swaying in front of him like a thick tree in a heavy wind. Chris took the scissors from their resting place and started to tentatively trim the protruding bush of pubic hair.
He then looked up at Kyle with pleading eyes. Kyle knew instinctively what to do. He took the razor, steadying one hand on Chris’s granite hard abdomen he stroked down the taunt hump above his friends Cock. The razor slid over the hair with a satisfying grind, like shaving stubble from your head. He cleaned the wide crotch of all hair. Then a thought struck him. He carefully took Chris’s balls in his hand. Wow…Behind the pointed barrier of Cock Chris’s balls huddled close to the skin of his Body and Scrot, almost as if they had shrunk. Chris’s Cock seemed so fucking huge and raging but his balls were noticeably smaller , riding high into his groin…leaving his dick to dangle like some great extending need.
Kyle stared at the big hard dripping dick in his hand, stunned at the sexual rage it was stirring in him. “I think that’s it…” he stammered.
Chris looked approvingly at the beauty of his cut defined hairless torso. He played with the nipple on his chest openly. Tweaking them and running his hand up and down his Abs.
His expression quickly changed though. “Not everything.”
He turned again and thrust his uncovered ass in the air. His big hands pulled his meaty ass cheeks apart.
Two shaking hands grasped the soft muscular skin of Chris’s Ass And Kyle roboticly Shaved away even the tiny hairs that lead down his crack. He wiped away the hair with a cloth, and found himself intrigued by the tender pink orifice he had just exposed. Almost on autopilot he licked one finger and began to tease Chris’s asshole.
Chris Moaned above him. Circling the hole with his wet digit, he tensed his legs and felt his cock jump as he plunged the finger down into the bowels of his buddies ass.
He had finger fucked many a girl and now Chris began to react the same way any other chick would with his finger teasing her twat.
His bulky legs began to twitch and he picked up Kyle’s rhythm unconsciously fucking himself back onto his hand. with one finger skewering his friend’s ass he palmed the large glutes, groping his ass.
“Fuck…” Chris gasped. His hairless body gleaming in a sheen of sweat and the steam stinging his eyes. The hot equatorial dampness glistened off of him. His body heating up, reacting from the erotic stimulation. “I’m gonna…Fucking cum…” And then he did, his body shaking as the big heavy cock erupted onto the wall, untouched and undirected.
Kyle felt his own swollen dick jump in his briefs as Chris’s surrender to his orgasm.
Later Chris shaved Kyle from head to toe…but he didn’t remember that much….only that they both Came again.
He woke up, groggy and disoriented.
Aww shit his head felt like mush. Where was he? He lifted an arm to feel his head but found himself hindered. Shit his arm was the size of a leg! His eyes focused on one huge bronze vein covered forearm, as big as a man’s calf, and realized the friction between his massively bulging bicep and his jutting pecs and flared lats, were restraining his movement.
He shifted what seemed to be an insane amount of weight to situated himself onside so he could touch his face. He lifted one leg to steady his knee and felt a keg of flesh flex beneath his thigh. The heavy barrel of muscle stretched and contracted like the hind legs of some huge beast. “Whaaa…” he groaned in a deep bovine voice that rumbled like a truck engine.
He threw off the sheets in an impressive lurch of his arm that shot sensations of muscular pleasure to his groin. The large weight of his bicep dragging his arm down. He realized the sides of the bed were clear on either side of his massive body. Had the bed always been so small?
That’s when he saw it snaking out from beneath the massive ridges of his abs, and slightly dissented gut. From beneath the muscled pillars of his grotesquely large thighs and the sadistic cut of his groin. It was fucking huge. It was the hugest thing he had ever saw. So big and full. It had to be the width of a beer can and the length of a foot…or an ..inch whichever one was bigger, but fuck it was really big. He stared in aww at it. Amazed at it’s girth and size. So big and proud sticking out like a muscle all it’s own.
He nervously put two huge vein dissected paws on it. “awwwww” he groaned in bright lustful pleasure. “so big” he smiled. He began to stroke and touch it while pinching his huge tits. . Wow they were so big and hard. And it felt so good to run his callused hands roughly against the sore and taunt skin of his pec. His whole hand couldn’t even cover it. He started to slap the huge plates of muscle lightly listening to the satisfying thwack of the hard distended muscles of his chest.
He sat tugging on his nipple and smacking his pecs for what seemed an eternity until he got the frightening feeling that something was terribly wrong.
He catapulted his massive weight off the bed, and stood on unsure legs. The room was sparse….filled with empty space, except for a huge floor mirror that adorned one wall. In the mirror he saw a man.
Or a monster.
The creature reflected back at him most have been at least 300 lbs. Granite caves stretched into huge lumps of muscular thighs. A huge tear crested on his knee dissected with angry veins, so vascular they looked like pythons. They were at least 28 inches around…..and he remembered vaguely that was pant size he used to wear….
The bulging hips lead into a thin waist that then ballooned upward in an impossible V. Thick corded Abdominal muscles stretched the skin of his stomach making his navel seem indiscernible.
Pecs so big they felt cumbersome to hold up rested on top of the abdominal ridge . They were 58 inches easily. Broad with down turned nipples on the plump swollen muscle.
He gingerly brushed one with a shaking hand and watched in horror as the huge muscles of his 22 inch biceps flexed with even the slightest movement. Even his forearms seemed huge, easily the weight and size of a regular man’s calf muscle.
His delts stretched outward impossibly making him look ridiculously to heavy. They lead into two swollen arching traps that met his jaw more then his thick neck.
The muscles were all so unrealistic, unnatural they couldn’t be described as anything but obscene
The face….The face wasn’t his. It was some Frankenstein version of his face. Ape like and primal. A heavy brow line hung like a roof over his square and jutting lantern jaw. A bold nose and sunken dim witted eyes stared back at him. His petulant lips were a gape, but then they always were…weren’t they? Parted slightly so he could easily breath through his mouth. Being the slack jawed mouth breather he was….
It was the look of animal like confusion that caught him. He ambled toward the mirror twisting and turning like a little monkey seeing himself in a pool of water.
“Wah?” he mumbled. Then blinked…then screamed.
“Whats all the noise dude-buddy?” A deep resonant bass boomed at him.
He turned to see another huge muscle beast canter into the door.
“Wha…What’s going on?” He asked confused.
“Not a lot, just woke up.” the guy answered happily.
He rubbed his head…he knew that he knew this other gargantuan man…but couldn’t remember his name…“I…uh can’t remember my name.” He whimpered helplessly. The deep masculine voice sounded ridiculous with it’s childish tone.
The big beat considered for a moment..“hold on a sec!” he said and then bounded from the room. His big cock flopping back and forth as he tumbled away in his nakedness.
With his friend gone, he slumped on the bed. Feeling the weight of his bat wing lats pull him down hard.
“His was in my room!” his friend offered when he returned, He held up what he instantly recognized as weight belt. It had writing on the front but he couldn’t quite make it out…his head was too foggy.
“It says Flex!” he explained. “It was in my room, so it’s gotta be mine…so I guess it’s my name!” He reasoned with considerable effort, his own massive brow furrowing in simian effort.
His friend looked at him in consternation, “Well that says “CRUNCH”,” he said pointing to an identical belt by the bed. Then his eyes brightened “That’s gotta be your name!” HE answered proudly.
He turned the name over in his head. It did sound familiar, and if it was on his weight belt it hand to be his. His weight belt did seem like one of the most important pieces of clothes in his life. Before he had a chance to answer though his friend jumped outa the bed and ran out of the room. The big legs pounding on the floor like a buffalo stampede.
“Crunch.” He said while he rubbed his cock, and arched his back, stretching the gargantuan lats on the bed.“crunch.” it sounded so right. But he had a nagging idea that it was a stupid name. And that he was acting ridiculously stupid.
His friend came bouncing back into the room sporting a twin belt that read “FLEX”
He sat upright and smiled “You’re Flex!” he yelled impressed at his own discovery.
“YEAH!” he smiled, he sighed a heavy sigh of relief, “Shit I’m glad we figured that out!” he exclaimed.
“But…I don’t understand Flex this all feels so…” His bovine voice was interrupted by a few short quick raps on the door.
They looked at each other in silent confusion.
“What should we do?” Crunch asked?
Flex shrugged his massive shoulders his Delts and traps jumping up like uprooted boulders, “Answer it…I guess?”
They shuffled into the living room ,and stared at the door like deer in head lights. Not moving except for the absent twitch of muscles spasming.
The knock came again, and the faint sound of someone impatiantly tapping a foot.
Flex swung the door open, Outside their apartment stood a young man dressed in a red t-shirt and fire red trousers, “Avon calling.”
Flex said simply, “We don’t know nobody named Avon.”
The Blonde stared him up and down and patted his cheek affectionately, "you’re not too bright, " He paused, “I like that In a man…now Cri…er…Flex….why don’t you give me and Crunch here a minute or two of privacy.”
Flex gave him a long look of incomprehension, probably puzzling out the meaning of the word privacy.
“Go in the other room Jar Head,” He commanded exasperatedly, shutting the door behind him.
Flex began to shuffle off in the direction of the kitchen, his huge quads brushing together and his dissented arms swinging lazily against his Lats. He giggled the whole way repeating the word “jar head” under his breath.
“Now Crunch….” the blonde began looking pointedly at the mountain on his other side. The blue eyes peered up at him from beneath the frame of his huge Pecs.
Crunch shook his head back and forth, forcing his traps to seize up and down, “That’s not my name….my name is…” He stammered in his throaty bovine voice.
“Oh but I think it is,” The blonde replied and then casually plopped himself down on the nearest couch. “You’ve got a strong will Ky…er ..Crunch couple that with the fact that I’m sorely out of practice, It just makes it necessary for me to finish this off myself.”
A dim light of reason winked on in the back of his clouded and desperate mind. He remembered this guy he was at that restaurant…he…“What did you do to us.” He asked in a plaintive child like rumble.
“Nothing at all, nothing at all my boy…Now Crunch your all sweaty and pumped from rolling around with flex, wouldn’t this be the perfect time for you to pose and flex? Why don’t you do that for me.”
His heart leaped in his chest and he had to fight the urge to spread his arms into a double bicep, “No, I don’t wanna” he wined half heartedly.
There was a glint of steel in those luminous blue eyes, “Of course you do? With a body like that what are you going to do except for show it off?” he paused and then his voice came out very steady and deliberate, “You love to show of your body. It’s what you live for. What else are you good for crunch? I mean with that massive freaky musclebound flesh sculpture your just begging to be treated like a piece of meat.”
Crunch’s stomach growled, " meat…" he mumbled inaudibly, then he realized that the guy was right. He did want to show off. He put his calf in front of him and wobbled his quad muscles back and forth, watching the sinewy muscles bounce from on side of his knee to the other. As his muscles bulged under his ministrations to expose them, memories began to usher into his head unbidden…Stage lights, announcers, a throbbing back beat behind him on shaky speakers. Lights burning down from above as he lurched across a stage bouncing his pecs, flexing his triceps behind his back, His tiny little posing pouch straining against his hungry cock, dangling between his wide stance as he pulsed his glutes for the audience. Flex spray painting his body, cans discarded on the floor beside him, as flex tried to cover every ridge of his gross mass. Spraying the distorted mass of his neck and happily patting the little silken posing pouch and telling him what a good show he was going to make for the judges.
He curled one arm up in an impossible pose bending at his trunk waist to smile at the blonde. He remembered leaning over the stall in the gym’s bathroom as Flex shot his ass up full of His Gainer Stack. His cock rock hard an slapping against his abdomen in anticipation of the rush of knowing how huge the cocktail was going to make him. Grunting with furious expectation. Feeling the needle break the skin as he awkwardly attempted to massage his own shoulders.
He remembered giving Flex the same shot, watching the huge hind muscles of his partners powerful ass twitch hungrily.
“You see how nice it is when you don’t fight it crunch?” The blonde whispered from the couch his eyes burning like sapphires on fire. “Now look a that big cock riding up out of your shorts…”
Reflexively crunch followed the instructions and looked beyond his straining pectorals and the ridge of his bloated beer can like abdominal at the monster hard on that was poking from beneath the strained and torn fabric of his immaculate BVD’s. “it’s so big…” he mumbled.
The blonde got up quickly moving gracefully to his shoulder, whispering in his ear with a sultry rasping seduction, “You know why crunch…”
He shook his head no, in a childish scared awe.
“Because That’s where all your brains are now.” He said with cold finality. “Their all stuck in there. All your undergraduate work…your BA in finance, and all your Law school education, filling up that massive boner That’s stretching your ball sack like taffy…doesn’t it feel so heavy crunch?”
Crunch cumbersomely groped at the heavy cock, feeling its weight like it was an iron pole. “Yeah.” he agreed in a horny weary grunt.
“All that cocky smug intelligence all trapped in that heavy cock.” There seemed to be a hidden smile in his sacrine dripping whisper.
Crunch shook his head and stumbled dozily away from the taunting whispering. “No this isn’t right…I’m smart…I’m A a Lawy-urhg…I’m not dumb…I’m not a muscle guy…”
“Really?” The angelic blonde said from across the room, calmly tugging at one of the sleeves of his blazing red sweatshirt, “You certainly look like one.”
Crunch turned from the stranger and accidently looked right into the hallway mirror. He vaguely remembered a time when he would go their to tie his tie before his clerking job…but that wasn’t right he never wore a tie…they were usually to small for his big neck, He remembered seeing the young aristocratic face of a pretty boy, smiling charmingly at the mirror in satisfaction. Now all he saw was a huge bodybuilder naked. His body defying nature with drug abuse and obsession. The shaggy brown bangs that once covered his forehead were gone. So was the expensive haircut he could barely remember. Now atop his hard herculean jaw and apelike forehead was a crisp military cut that left everything shaved but a bit of a wedge at the front, exaggerating his already simian like face.
He looked around the apartment desperate to find some point of reference but instead of paperwork all he saw were fitness magazines and muscle porn.
His shelves once filled with books were now lined with trophy’s, sashes and belts that he could almost remember winning.
The framed Bachelor of Mathematic’s degree was replaced with a line of signed pictures. A row of posing bodybuilders smiled back at him with their well wishes scrawled across the front. He shambled over to them still absently stroking his heavy brain filled cock.
He tried to reason out the messages that were written on the pictures, It was hard to decipher them, not because of the handwriting, but because all his brains were now in his throbbing cock. He had to painstakingly spell out each word phonetically. “Be-tt-er Luh-ck Ne-xt Ti-me, cuh-ruh-n-ch” and it was signed Jay cutler… He remembered meeting him at a competition and desperately begging for the autograph that hung before his eyes.
“No,” he half cried and slammed one big meaty fist down on an end table, breaking the legs and sending Flex magazines hurtling across the room. His massive form slumped against the wall and his heavy girth drug him to the floor where he pouted in an awkward sitting position. He tried to cross his legs, but his quads pumped and sand bag like refused be comfortable tumbling over each other. He tried to put his head in his big hands but his biceps and his lats were swelled and restricted his movement. He gave up and absently let his huge arms cradle against this sides while his giant hands fondled his BVD’s. He was crying now, big tears rolling down his gargantuan jawline and his already heavy brow furrowed in deep frustration, “I’m not ah dumb body build-ah I’m a Lawy-urgh, I’m Smart and cool and have lots of smarh-t freinds.” He said to the his blonde tormenter in an accusatory voice that rumbled like a bull’s roar. “This Ain’t Fair. You did this to me.”
“Why” Crunch asked and then began to get distracted by the way his pec’s were bouncing up and down from his agitation. They were just so big and when they twitched he could feel the muscles jump under his skin. The nipples down turned seemed to dance to the rhythm of his heavy breathing.
The blonde smiled “Why not?”
But crunch was already gone lost in his absent sexual body euphoria. Bouncing his huge 58 inch chest and now forcefully tugging on his big horse cock. “I’d be careful if I were you…” the blonde warned.
Crunch looked up, bafflement on his exaggeratedly masculine mug.
“Remember That’s were all your brains are,” he explained as if was talking to a child.
“Oh no!” Crunch gasped, ripping his hands away and sending the vascular veins of his forearms into deep stressful pythons as he sat on his hands in fright. While his heavy ass contained his hungry hands he tried desperately to wrap his lingering memories around the foggy incoherent mass of his mind. Law school, Arithmetic, anything he could grab on to. The slight charismatic face of some guy named Kyle. All the while his musclebound body twitching in need.
Then Flex came ambling out of the kitchen. He held two bits of cloth in his hand one orange and one green. “Hey dude-buddy, let’s just lift here today!” he smiled stretching his broad cheeks widely and pointing to the well equipped weight rack and nautilus machine that sat where crunch could almost remember a dinning room table and antique liqueur case used to be.
“You see,” the boy in red explained to the prostrate giant, “Chris here has already excepted the fact that he’s Flex…but then again that’s the curse of a born follower.”
Flex was already haphazardly stripping out his torn briefs, rolling the strained fabric down over his vieny thighs with effort. He almost fell, his disastrous weight throwing him off balance as his bulky calves kicked out of the wasted material.
Crunch was mesmerized watching his hulking partner. He gazed in rapt fascination as Flex’s own rigidly hard cocked flopped around and jostling his balls as he stripped purposefully.
The blonde gave hm a wicked grin, “poor Crunch,” he mused, "You simply don’t understand, Fundamental law of magic my boy, “Function follows Form, and your hulking form is only going to allow you an insignificant amount of…function.” Crunch scrunched his eyes shut anxiously, trying not to think about the angry twitch dance his dick was doing under the waistband of his underpants. The blonde was confusing him with big words and he didn’t like the feeling of somehow being completely retarded in the strangers presence. Although it did strange3ly send shivers of pleasure to his cock.
He could here Flex’s dim-witted rumble over the black darkness of his eyelids. “Yeah dude-buddy we can just slip on our posers, oil up and lift here, that’ll be so hot, oh yeah…” there was a pause and then he said clinically, “we’ll have to got to the gym this afternoon though we can’t really do our leg work out here.” He laughed a heavy uncontrolled roar at what he saw was an obvious joke.
When Crunch reluctantly opened his eyes, Flex was standing in front of him. His arms were bowed with his fists resting on the cresting bones of his pubic ridge, a triumphant smile on his face. His big dick was now confined in what Crunch recognized as his favorite green posing strap. The green against the deep almost molten rock tan made the bulge at his waist seem as much pronounced as the huge bulges all over the rest of his monstrous frame.
He held at the Orange poser happily.
He recoiled from it like a viper, he slid further against the wall comically, this huge bodybuilding menace cringing and terrified, all the while the head of his bulbous cock waving from his crotch. He looked pleadingly to the blonde who seemed to be absently pruning his fingernails with his teeth. “Puh-lease make us back inta ….” he fought trying to remember what it was he used to be. His cavernous chest racked in a half sob.
“No.” the blonde answered politely and continued his grooming.
Flex payed him no attention, “C’mon dude-buddy.” he said, Rubbing his own hard Green slicked monster in anticipation, “you usually love doin this.” Crunch watched the meaty hands slide up and down the shiny greased green material feeling his thighs twitch and his groin groan with the need to have the same slinky material encase his own cock in orange. He remembered the pride those lil bits of fabric gave him. It was his badge- he’d worked his whole life to be able to effortlessly put that one and look like it belonged on him. It was his reward.
“Oh do get on with it ole’ boy, I have appointment to keep today, gotta get my roots done- dontch know?” The blonde encouraged from the sidelines still gnawing intently on a fingernail.
Crunch dumbly hefted his heavy weight into a half squat, his powerful thighs propelling him up, and he dimly took the orange slimy fabric from his partner.
Flex grinned broader and his dick bounced.
He felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction, as he slipped the staff of his erect dick into the thin pouch. He felt incredibly better.
“Wow, Crunch,” the guy in red told him, “You look so big in that.” His tone was a taunting.
Flex immediately sensing the slight, brought up his right arm into a tight hold, “not bigger then me though!” He roared.
“I dunno..” he said playing along.
Crunch felt his big tits twitch with irritation, he squeezed his triceps tightly together behind his back with a dumb grin on his face, "No man I’m way bigger then you, " he spat.
“O yeah!” Flex challenged getting close enough to push his own massive chest against crunches. A look of injured angry pride in his dull eyes.
“Yeah!” Crunch snorted, brushing him back with the flex of one forearm.
And the they were rolling around on the ground. Crashing into each other like to colliding freight liners. Muscles tensing and dicks flopping against each other.
They were an even match but Crunch gained the upper hand quickly, “You think your bigger then me huh bitch?” his delts ballooning and the striations of his chest straining in fury. His vascular Forearms pinned Flex to the floor. He was spitting the words. Long stings of glistening spit falling into the Deep crevice of Flex’s massive Pecs.
“You won’t ever be fucking bigger then me!” He brought one huge leg up and kicked Flex to his side, roughly
pulling at the taunt flesh of his Lats and Extensors.
“C’mon man!” Flex Grunted beneath him.
“C’mon what bitch!”
“Fuck me man! Fuck me ! Split my fucking roid ass with you cock!” The plea shook Crunch down to his tread covered calves.
“Get up!” he roared. Pull in on his dick like a madman. Fuck him? Fuck him? A guy? No he was gong to fuck a muscle beast, just like him. The thought hit him hard making his sweaty fist clench tighter on the hungry cock in his hand. Fuck a big Muscle head just like him. It would be like fucking his own huge glutes. Ramming his own Hot bodybuilder butt.
Flex compliantly bent over the weight bench. His legs twitching furiously with anticipation making the big quads shake like firm tan jell-O.
He fucked Flex’s wide swollen ass in rage. Pounding his cock in and out with heavy smacks of his bloated pelvis into his friends hard glutes. He grunted over and over smacking and fucking like an animal. His dick plunging in and out as Flex’s overdeveloped Ass chocked his cock like a muscular fist. One big hand rested on the perfect point of Flex’s V like back. He watched in angry sexual lust as the hilly terrain of Flex’s back knotted and unknotted under his weight.
They were both moaning in a grunt like unison together. Lost completely in bestial sensation. Sweat racking unintelligent groans echoing and overlapping each other. This was who he was. Sweat muscle sex. His quad were on fire. But that was good. Pain was good. Pain made him grow. He was always in pain. Most peop-le didn’t understand that professional bodybuilders spent 90% of the time in constant pain. From muscle growth, joint ache, or just stress from carrying the weight. Pain felt good.
It felt good to give it to. To dominate this huge Muscle man under the weight of his cock. To fuck those big man cheeks till his buddy screamed like he was benching 420lbs. Fuck. Smack. Good. “Yell for me bitch”
Flex rocked bakc and forth moaning like a defeated animal. His heart racing so fast he thought it would explode.
But it as Crunch who exploded first.
“NO” Crunch cried in shock as his seed jetted out of him like an unleashed fire hose, his spurting and convulsing cock spilling hot cum all over the floor and weight bench.
The heavy confusion he had felt before settled in permanently over his consciousness.
The poor brute had literally blown his brains out.
He fell desperately to the floor trying to lick up the spent fluid. He pawed at the floor vainly and then gave up hyperventilating in fear.
Flex obviously concerned about the sudden stop of his intense ass rape, turned around. Crunch was stupidly squatting staring forlornly at the small puddles on the hard wood floor. “What’s wrong dude-buddy?” he rumbled.
“My brains were in my dick!” He explained in a big gulp. Tears rolled down his cheeks like a heartbroken child.
Flex being the simple creature he was didn’t question the curious statement, “So?”
“Now there all gone.” he sniffed. As realization flooded in, or out as it was, Crunch felt a vast emptiness settle comfortably into his mind. It was not so much as the fog of before but instead an absence of anything else.
“So? With Bod’s like ours who needs em.” he said with a massive shrug, and then smiled approvingly as he lurched into a stunning double bicep. Not getting the adulation he wanted, he began rubbing Crunch’s Traps comfortingly, a lecherous look in his eyes.
Crunch tried to argue but could find no flaw in his logic. He gladly instead embraced the emptiness in his mind. Giving in fully to the loss of all cognizant thought.
“You just need a good work out.” Flex further surmised, sliding his hand up and down the protruding ridge of Crunch’s glutes. His hand slipping in and out of the hot space between his friends thighs and ass cheeks.
Crunch suddenly flashed a toothy grin. “You’re right dude!”
“Of course I am!”
Crunch considered it for a minute then threw his huge form onto his lifting partner, his Gym buddy, his lover, “I love you!” he announced. Pushing his thick jaw against flex’s and ramming his tongue passed the other mans lips.
They awkwardly pawed and groped each others distorted bodies, rolling on the ground like two over turned top heavy, rhinoceroses.
They took the next hour to affectionately explore each others exaggerated musculature and profess over and over in the most unimaginative ways, their love for each other.
When they had finally exhausted the possibilities of heavy petting, Flex convinced crunch that they should take their protein and head to the gym.
As they struggled to stand, Chris had a fleeting thought that it was too bad they hadn’t turned on their web cam during their wrestle and fuck, they usually got a record amount of hits on their site during those sessions.
It didn’t even occur to him to question why he knew he had a web cam or a muscle porn website. He was just glad as shit he did.
They wandered into the living room, dicks hard as sail masts, and posing straps wrapped idly around their ankles. They stared confused at the blonde guy cat napping in their spare utilitarian living room.
"Uhm we have to go to the gym, " Flex explained.
The blonde slid his ball cap up and opened one eye. He smiled appraisingly at Crunch and flex, and then sat up, “Top notch” he smiled.
He gave an appraising look to the two perfect examples of horrendously exaggerated masculinity. Crunch apparently bored already was absently crunching and relaxing his fists making his barrel like forearm muscles writhe and dance under his deep tan skin. He was obviously paying no attention to what was going, instead he was totally engrossed by the rhythmic tensing and relaxing of his muscles. The blonde smiled, he was the perfect Muscle head, A superbly conditioned, chemically altered paragon of Physical perfection, whose mind was unviolated by anything that could even remotely be considered thought.
“I know just the place….”
Eddie was manning the membership desk irritably when the guy strolled in the front door.
He was big about 6 ’2 and had a broad shoulder line under his muffles of clothes. He wore a red leather bomber jacket with a red sweatshirt underneath. His pants were baggy jogging sweats, and his thick legs moved with a catlike grace underneath them. Against the white background of the snow storm outside he looked like a bonfire in a snow drift. He was hot. In more ways then one. His hair was almost as white as the flurries outside but glowed a hazy blonde in the light. It his tan face and square jaw in a length of white hot blonde flame. It was strange eve though winter was blasting it’s best out there, there wasn’t a single snow flake on him or hint of dampness. He took of his red ski gloves and shot a ray of piercing sky blue through his bangs.
“Eddie , Eddie, long time no see- your looking as taunt and sculpted as ever,” he said in a charming melodic baritone.
Eddie just stared at the stranger in confusion as he brushed past him, “ah excuse me sir you can’t go back there…only members…” But the guy bounded on, his size belying his agile whimsical step. Eddie positioned himself quickly before the stairs, “I’m sorry sir, but I can’t let you up there I don’t care who…”
The blue eyes fixed on Eddie. “I have some business with Gino…”
Eddie’s eyes rolled, "Oh baby, Everybody has business with Gino , look I’m sure he meant to call you or whatever, "
The mans white teeth showed through the bangs in a wolfine grin, “Eddie I have not fought through fire and flame to bandy words with the likes of you.”
Eddie continued to stare. The blonde tisked in disgust, “Damned Illiterate, Haven’t thought to pick up a book yet huh? Eddie.”
Eddie looked at the man with irritated confusion. “Listen here sir,” he said with snippy self-important tones, “This is a private gym and only members may enter if you want a day pass or a tour you can…”
“Eddie,” the blonde sighed wearily, “are you purposefully trying to vex me?”
“Do I know you?”
There was a moment of confusion in those clear blue eyes and then the guy began to laugh a hearty little chuckle. “I suppose not… you might have once but…well,” he brushed aside the long blonde bangs and stretched his heavy shoulders rasing his arms above his head, craning his neck purposefully, " papa’s got a brand new bag." he made the statement sound more like a challenging threat. The look in his eyes was vicious and begged rebuke.
“oh well never mind, look, I don’t have to go up anyway I just need to send my two buddies up to Gino- they need to talk to him about a job.”
The blonde motioned to the door and two huge ass bodybuilders huddled into the lobby- they were at least 6’4 and 650lbs between them. There were a lot of big guys in the 64st gym but these were olympian sized monstrosities, and despite the cold they were dressed like muscle heads from the 80’s. One in a garish orange parachute pant and a string tank top that revealed his hugely proportioned pecs, the other in tights that hung to his huge quads in a bright green with a cut off grey sweatshirt over his big frame.
“Jesus, who’re those freaks?”
The two behemoth high fived each other awkwardly with their bulky frames, “freaks” they cheered in a grunting roar.
“He’s Flex.” the one in the tank offered stupidly.
“He’s crunch.” The other said, then they pulled up their shirts to reveal two weight belts with the names emblazoned on a wide buckle. They seemed childishly proud to know there own names.
The blonde smiled his viscous grin, “I believe my companions speak for themselves.” He meandered toward them and they intern ambled toward him with an impressively quad disrupted wobbling gait. “Now you be good boys and give this to the nice Italian man when you see him, and remember to tell him what I told you.” He instructed them in a slow purposeful voice.
Their heavy subcranial brows furrowed in concentration. “Uh huh”
“Good boys, now go ahead it’s at the back, and don’t get distracted.”
The Bodybuilders paused for a moment absorbing the instructions carefully.
“Alright” said flex with a confidant shake of his thick vein pulsing neck. Then he pushed crunch forward, their heavy bodies swaying back and forth primally as they walked away.
“Their asses are huge!” Eddie breathed foaming at the mouth as the four boulder sized glutes hunched away.
“Everything about them is.” The blonde nodded pulling on his gloves.
Eddie turned to the stranger and asked in confusion, “hey how come ur not wet when those fucking Beasts were soaked,”
The guy simply did a quick half turn and slyly danced toward the door in a quick sidestep, “because I’m Mr. Heat miser, I’m Mr. Green Christmas…. , I’m Mr 101…” The guy did one more quick agile red clad turned before he left the gym door. He gave Eddie one Icey blue wink before he dissappeared.
And then it hit him like a brick.
Eddie gave out a loud gasp.
One of the sales girls wandered by and said, “Hey Ed, what’s up, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Eddie held onto the desk in shock, “O M G!” he swore, “Go tell Gino quick!”
“Tell him what?” she asked sassily hand on hip,
“Tell him, Tell him…That the Bitch is back.”
But Gino was already finding out.
Flex and Crunch stood silently in front of a heavily muscled, deeply Mediterranean Italian man in long sleeved polo that accented his rock hard form. He looked at them in startled surprise from his glass topped desk. “Uhm a we’s a need a job.”
The man seemed shocked his dark eyes looking a little wild at the two gargantuan men, “ah…” he said recovering from his shock, “my names Gino, I’m the manager.”
The two Ogres smiled and lifter their shirts revealing wide weight belts with names emblazoned on either one, “He’s Flex!” the one with dark buzzed hair announced, and then the sandy colored brute pointed to his friend and said “He’s Crunch, We’re bodybuilders.”
“Obviously.” Gino murmured.
“Our friend brought us here to get a job,” then the giant paused, Gino marveled at the do, they each had to be 310lbs of solid muscle, “He said we should warn you…”
"About what/ Gino asked absently examining the swell of their huge backs above their impressively small waists.
“He told us to tell you,” crunch started in his throaty voice, and then continued haltingly, using all his mental effort to remember the simple instructions, “That We’re so dumb… that It took a fire in the school to get us outa the Third Grade.”
Gino’s dark eyes widened, a dark suspicion looming in his mind, “this guy who brought you here, was he dressed all in black and did he have long black hair?”
Both Squatted veiny necks shook, “no.”
Gino sighed in relief, “oh well…uhm I guess the gym could really benefit from having two Professionals on staff. Are either of you certified trainers?”
Their was another long pause as they both stared at him blankly. The pause continued until Flex Smiled, Flexing one big arm forcing his cutoff sweatshirt to recede to his cantaloupe sized Delts. “We’re Bodybuilders!” He repeated stupidly as if that was some kind of answer to the question.
“Yeah…you said that.” This was strange, very strange. “Well if your not Trainers…I couldn’t hire you at that rate…and the only other thing is maintenance…”
“All we need is money for our rent and food.” Flex offered.
“And juice.” Chris Finished.
Gino was concerned, “Uhm gentleman the gym doesn’t indorse drug abuse.” They gave him that blank stare again. He knew he used to many big words.
Crunch offered dumbly, “then we won’t do it in doors, we’ll do it at home.”
Gino stared at the two humongous goons in front of him. Not a Brain cell between them…and their dicks were ram rod hard. It was completely unnatural. They assured him that they could handle Sponsors for their “sport” and If he just gave them some money for working at the gym they’d be fine. Gino tried to tell them that they’d only be advisors to the trainers and that their jobs would largely be menial labor around the gym. Picking up weights…making Shakes…Monkey work. That seemed to make them even happier. He called Eddie in to give them a tour, and sent them off. Glad to be rid of their asinine Grinning mugs. And secretly jealous of the way they made him feel small and inferior compared to their gargantuan muscles.
But before they left Crunch dropped a piece of paper on his desk, “He told us to give you this though…” And then they lumbered into their new life as Salaried Muscle eyesores and maintenance monkeys.
Gino turned the small post card over in his hands, on the front of it was a field of fire, flame and molten pools of lava, a little devil was busy sunning himself and lounging by one of the lava pools. Big words read, “Wish you were here.”
He turned the card over and in an erratic script that he recognized all to well, was written, " Miss ME? Be Seeing you soon…. xoxoxoxo," He didn’t need a signature to know who it was from.
But before he could get the chance to examine the card further, he dropped it with a quick painful exhalation. His deep voice gasped in surprise. The Card seemed to get as cold as dry ice. It fell onto his desk and frost began to spread all over, covering the handwriting and images in a deep ice. And as suddenly as it froze it shattered into a thousand little Icicles.
Such a show off.
Well if he had any doubts, they were gone now.
He shakingly picked up his desk phone, and with almost forced hands dialed a now all to familiar number, There was a pause, and then in a subdued voice he told the man on the other end, “Sir…You told me uhm to call…If HE ever came back…well I think he has….”
There was another endless pause and then Gino answered submissively, “Yes Sir I know what to do.”
He put one confused hand on his head and rubbed his brow thoughtfully.
Apparently Hell had frozen over, and that could mean only one thing-
…Damien Vaughn was back
HEXFILE #2 - Ripped Lee’s Believe it or NOT