Date: Mon, 20 Apr 2009 16:49:25 -0700 From: Sean Scott <sean@buffmuscles.com> Subject: MuscleMan Episodes 2 & 3 The New Adventures of MuscleMan Episodes 2 & 3 Home & Nathan by Sean Scott [Author's note: This story contains sex acts between men, and is thus intended for ADULTS ONLY. If you are not an adult who wants to read this kind of smut, please do not continue.] Eric Armstrong stood in the elevator as Vance exited to return to his hotel room. A few seconds later, the duplicate Vance rounded the corner of the hallway and walked into the elevator where Eric waited. "Delete Vance clone," the huge man said. Immediately, the image of Vance disappeared. On the lobby floor, the doors to the elevator opened, and Eric emerged, alone. As had been happening wherever Eric went, every head turned to look at the huge man. His physique defied description; it was singular in its size and unbelievable muscular development and definition. As he strode through the large, high-ceilinged lobby of the Olympic Four Seasons hotel, he realized that he had to do something about his body. There was just no way he was going to be able to assimilate into 21st century society unless he could somehow pare his body down to believable dimensions-- as "believable" applied to the current culture. He knew his nanites were capable of a lot of things he hadn't yet discovered, so he decided to set aside some time to see what could be done. Back in the abandoned warehouse, he accessed the nanite database and began to investigate the possibility of altering how he appeared to others, using holographic projections. After hours of study and work, and many experiments, he needed a break. He took out the three blue orbs and examined them. For some reason, they seemed to be pulsing a little more brightly, and maybe a little faster, than before. "Analyze the objects in my hand," he said to himself. Immediately, he could tell that the nanites were going to work. "Initial analysis will take two minutes," his visual connection said. That was a little unusual. These things must be pretty strange, he thought. Finally, he closed his eyes and read, "Initial analysis complete. Origin: Testos Four. Makeup: Unknown, but traces of miridium, sento-biplexicate, aluminum, RNA, anodized niobium, phosphorous and pro-matter are present. There are at least 23 other unknown elements in their makeup." Pro-matter? he thought. That's unbelievable! I didn't know anyone had found a way to harness it! These things must be amazingly powerful! The report continued: "Uses: Unknown." Unknown? "Hypothesize as to uses." "Possible uses include: communication, transport, construction, weaponry, shielding. Other uses are possible, but unknown." Transport? he thought. "Do they have time-travel capabilities?" "Unknown." The commander placed two of the dark blue glowing orbs on the bed and examined the one in his hand closely. "How are they activated?" "Unknown." "Initiate access protocol and attempt to communicate with the one in my hand." Eric could feel the nanites working, and almost instantly the orb grew brighter and warmer. Startled, Eric moved his face back and stood tall. The blue light turned to white and then back to blue. Simultaneously, Eric's nanite visual interface read: "Universal Translator accessed; Communication established," and the orb said, "Hello Commander Armstrong. How may I serve you?" His visual interface then read, "Audio link has been established." Apparently, Eric thought. "Well, for starters, you can tell me your function-- and what you are called," he said to the blue ball. "I am a Uridine Nucleic Organism. My function is to assist and serve. My applications include: Tele-transport, matter construction, communication, forcefields, weapons, and many other functions. A report is available upon request." "Uridine Nucleic Organism," Eric repeated. "Mind if I just call you an orb?" "Orb will be sufficient," it answered. "Are you capable of time transport?" "Not at this time. Modifications are not yet complete." "Not yet?" Armstrong asked. "I have been in the process of being enabled for time transport, but the process is in its beginning stages. Please replace me back into the programming module for additional modifications," the Orb glowed. "Well, that's not going to be possible," Armstrong said. "You're not on Testos Four anymore." The Orb glowed white again, as did the two sitting on the bed. The one in Eric's hand then said, "Analyzing." After a few seconds, it said, "Current location and time has been established. How did we get here?" "You three, and myself, were apparently sent here by the Testone TTP device." The Orbs glowed simultaneously. "Understood. Is there a time frame for our return?" "No," Eric answered. "Our trip was not voluntary. I was sent here malevolently, and you three Orbs just happened to be in my hands at the time. I believe I-- we-- are stranded here." More glowing by the orbs. "Understood. Please state your instructions." "Instructions?" Armstrong asked. "We are here to assist and serve. We await your instructions." the Orb said. Eric began to ponder his needs. Well, first off, his training said that shelter and food would be required. After that, he'd be able to better assess what would be next. "Please specify a location and design," the Orb said. "What?" "Please specify a location and design for your shelter," the Orb said. "But I haven't said anything about shelter," Eric said. "Subliminal communication has been established with your nanite chorus. We are accessing your thoughts," the Orb said. "Okay, well first off, let's establish something. I want you only to respond to verbal requests, like my nanites are programmed to do," Eric said. "This will prevent misunderstandings and un-commanded results. Understood?" "Understood." Eric nodded, satisfied. "Commander, may I suggest that you authorize us to read your thoughts so that in an emergency we are able to carry out your instructions; also so that we may better understand your spoken word and more accurately carry out your wishes," the Orb requested. "Good idea. Make it so." "Aye, sir." Eric felt a pang of longing for home at the hearing of that response. That was exactly what he was used to hearing whenever he gave an order. There was a strong sense of satisfaction at that-- and a strong longing for the real interaction of his friends and shipmates. He redirected his thoughts though. "Nanites, assess communication with Orbs, and evaluate security." "You want to know if you can trust them?" The message flashed onto his eyelids. "Yes," was Eric's one-word response. "Security protocol initiated." A moment later the message read, "Security risk is unknown. Too many unknown variables and foreign elements are present to accurately assess security situation. However, no information that has been gathered so far indicates any subversiveness on the part of the Orbs. Caution is recommended, though. Nanites will advise upon detection of any risk." He turned to the Orb. "Nanite chorus?" "Is that not an accurate term?" the Orb responded. "Well, its just that I've never heard them referred as such. But I guess it is accurate. Kind of quaint, really." The Orb pulsed with its calming light. "You have to understand, Orb, that my training, and my human instincts, demand that I view you with a certain amount of suspicion. Trust comes with time." "Understood. And time comes with trust." "What?" Eric asked. "An ancient Testone bromide." A slight smile formed on Eric's mouth. "Please specify a location and design for your shelter," the Orb nagged. "Well, I haven't decided yet," Eric said. "It's going to have to be secluded. Can you establish a forcefield around it? Maybe even make it invisible from the outside?" "Yes, and yes," the Orb answered. These little Orbs are actually kind of cute, he thought. "Thank you," the Orb said. And then the blue light turned into a deep red. "Okay," Eric smiled. "Now you're just getting cheesy." The Orb returned to blue. "I am programmed to adapt to your brainwaves. Initial examination of your synaptic activity reveals a high aptitude for humor. Am I right, or am I right?" Eric laughed out loud. He placed the Orb on the bed next to the others. "So, I have three of you, huh?" "Yes," they all said in unison. "Hmmmm," he mused. "Well, first, I need to get out of this warehouse and do some exploring. It's been 300 years since I've been in Seattle. I bet not much is the same. Need to find a good location for my new dwelling." A moment later, the nanites flashed a message on Eric's visual. "Interlink with Orbs has produced results for your previous holographic modification request." Eric was taken aback. He didn't know whether to address his nanites, or the Orbs to find out what they had in mind. "Well, you guys seem to have gotten to know each other," he said to both. "What kind of results?" "Allow me," one of the Orbs on the bed said. "Commander, we can assist your nanite chorus in establishing a matter/anti-matter holographic construct that will modify your physical appearance. Your nanites have been given access to our database and our pro-matter/RNA protocols and your appearance may now be changed at will. We suggest, for your own safety and ease of use, that you try to restrict your holographic modifications to just one alternate persona." "Okay, let's try it," Eric said. "Please specify physical modifications," the Orb said. Simultaneously those same words flashed on Eric's visual. "Well, I don't want to go overboard," Eric said. "I just don't want to cause a riot every time I appear in public. Let's see. How about this: Modify appearance as follows: Weight 250 pounds. Height 6'3". Keep all muscular proportions similar to my natural state. No use in being puny and ugly. Keep facial appearance similar to natural state." Eric's perspective began to change. He felt shorter and smaller. And yet, he could "feel" or "sense" his natural, original strength. "Fabricate mirror," he ordered. Immediately two mirrors appeared, one made by the nanites, one made by the Orbs. "I guess I need to specify who I'm talking to. Sorry." He walked over to the mirrors and looked at the man in the reflection. He was still wicked-hot looking-- muscular, handsome, powerful. And he could tell he still possessed all his the PBS pheromones. But now he was a little smaller. It was good. He could now pass for a normal, albeit hopelessly muscular and hot, human in the 21st century. "Nice," he said to no one in particular. "Very nice." "Please name this persona, for reference," an Orb said. "Well, I guess we'll have to go with `Eric Armstrong' for this one, since this is the one I'll use to interact with people, and I want to use my own name." "Understood. Please name your original, natural state, for reference." "Well, let's see... Revert to original," he said. Instantly, the holographic image "morphed" back into the natural, huge Eric. His clothes, fabricated from nanite matter, morphed along with him. "Wow. That's quite a difference," he smiled. "Uh, for now, let's just label this `Natural persona'." "Understood." "Morph to Eric persona," he ordered. "Aye sir." He immediately changed back to the smaller version of his hunkiness. "Okay, well it's time to explore Seattle." "State coordinates for transport," an Orb said. "Oh-- well, no. I plan on walking," Eric said, grabbing his jacket. "We'll do the transport thing later. I need to explore, not transport." "Understood." Eric Armstrong put the orbs into his jacket pocket and headed for the door. He turned back to look at the nanite-fabricated furnishings that populated the room. "Delete nanite holographic furnishings and return warehouse to its natural state." The furniture and lighting vanished and the room darkened and started smelling of must and oil again. • • • • • Downtown Seattle on a Sunday afternoon was usually pretty quiet. Even so, it was a vibrant city, and the leisurely weekend pace had a certain "buzz" to it. Amazingly to Eric, the ancient streets of the city were, for the most part, identical to the ones in the 24th century. The buildings, however, were all foreign to him. He was able to recognize a few places, though. Pioneer Square was still there (or shall we say, originally there). And then the thought struck him. What about the Space Needles? The twin spires of the Space Needles had been Eric's favorite place to hang out as he grew up. He headed north from downtown and began looking to the sky. Finally, he spotted it. But there's only one! Then he remembered, the original Space Needle, built for the 1962 World's Fair, was built alone. It wasn't until 2208 that the second Needle was torn down and replaced with the third incarnation-- twin Space Needles in the same spot that the original had occupied in Seattle Center. To his astonishment, the original Space Needle looked almost identical to the twins that graced the Seattle of the 24th century! As he finally arrived at the Seattle Center complex, he looked up at the tall towering structure. I can't believe it. The original Space Needle! He pulled some cash out of his pants pocket, and dismissing the longing gaze of the guy in the ticket booth, he boarded the elevator for the trip up to the observation deck. The view was fantastic. Totally different from what he was used to seeing from either of the needles of his time-- but beautiful nonetheless. Outside on the deck, he looked up at the spire that pointed upward. As a kid, one of his favorite shenanigans was to beam onto the very tip of one of the spires (usually the north one) and just sit there, watching the city. Eric took out one of the Orbs, shielding it from the view of any of the tourists. "Time for our first transport. Let's go up to the top of the spire. Provide securely-fastened seat and position my re-materialization accordingly." "Understood." Eric was flooded with memories as he looked out at his hometown, even though he was now 300 years in the past. He looked down at the glimmering white circle that formed the roof of the Space Needle. On the observation deck, he could see that some people had spotted him. "Engage holograph and make me invisible," he said quickly. "Understood." The people who had been looking at him shook their heads in disbelief. They blinked their eyes and shook their heads again, then walked away. "This is it," Eric said. "This is where I want to have my dwelling." "Understood. Please specify design parameters," he could hear the Orb say. The reality started to sink in. Eric was almost giddy in his excitement. The sadness of losing his friends seemed to melt, at least for the moment, as the anticipation of creating a home-- on top of the Space Needle!-- began to sink in. "Well, first of all, it will need to be totally invisible to anyone who is outside," he said. "Understood." He thought for a few minutes. I guess I can change things later, he thought. "Make the size the same circular shape and diameter as the observation deck below. Use information on design and amenities from construction records of my parent's home on Earth-- access nanite library for more information." "Understood. Accessing nanite chorus database." He was starting to really like how the Orbs referred to his nanites as a chorus. "Let's start with three levels, the lower-most level being right where I am now. This lower level will be used for my work area; fabricate computer stations, lab areas and library database. Oh-- and throughout, include computer interaction." "Suggestion," an Orb said. "Yes?" "Because of the complexity and size of this dwelling, it is suggested you assign this project to one Orb, to be affixed to this location. Thus, your dwelling can be permanent and self-existing." Eric thought. That sounded good. He could still carry the other two Orbs with him, as needed. "So, can one of you Orbs do whatever I might need when I travel around?" "Yes." So, Eric decided to fasten one Orb to the topmost point of the Space Needle, where it would maintain his invisible, shielded home. He would take one of the other Orbs with him wherever he went, and the third he would keep in his home here, as a backup for whatever he might need. He placed one of the Orbs on the pulsing red light-beacon that was beneath his seat, at the very tip of the Space Needle. "Fasten yourself here, little buddy," he said. "Understood." The Orb attached itself by forcefield. "Okay," Eric smiled. Well, I guess I'll call you Needle Orb, if that's okay. You're going to be my house-man. "Understood. Please continue with parameters for your dwelling." "Okay," Armstrong said. "The second level will be the main living area. Fabricate furnishings for a kitchen, main living area, dining room, study, entertainment, et cetera. Use aforementioned specifications from my childhood home. Make sure that all exterior walls are clear for maximum view of the city." "Understood." "And the top level will be my bedroom. Again, use previously referenced design." "Understood. Stand by for materialization of your new home," the Orb said. A second later, Eric, still sitting in the chair, was surrounded by his new home. He was on the lower level-- his laboratory and working area. It was better than he had expected. He grinned from ear to ear as he slowly stood up. "Assume Natural persona," he said as he stood. Immediately he grew into his huge self. He wanted to enjoy this as his real self. He looked around. "Fantastic. Just fantastic!" "Thank you," the Orb's voice echoed throughout the lab. "Interaction with nanite chorus allowed me to access subliminal preferences. Any changes you might need will be my pleasure, sir." Eric looked down at his huge body, clothed in his commander's uniform. "Lets make a standard protocol; whenever I am here, have me assume my Natural persona, unless otherwise instructed." "Understood." For the rest of the day, Eric explored his new home. Only a few minor modifications were done, and by the time he sat in his mid-level living area, watching the sun set behind the Olympic Mountains on the other side of Puget Sound, he was comfortably ensconced in Phallic Fortress-- the name he gave his new home. It was a late night for Eric; after becoming acquainted with his new home, he had discovered the 21st century's "Internet," and he found himself exploring the ancient communication system into the wee hours of the morning. It was archaic, but quaint; and that added to its allure. The men of this time were smaller, in general, than those of the 24th century, and there were definitely a lot of guys on the web that just didn't turn Eric on at all. But there was something fun about poking around such an antiquated means of communication that made his discoveries quite fascinating. The uniqueness of 21st century men-- in their old-fashioned qualities-- made the really good-looking ones that much more of a turn-on to him. And then there were the stories. He found that reading stories about men was a new adventure altogether. There were quite a few "websites," as they called them, that featured "erotic stories," and Eric found himself reading quite a bit. In fact, it was that first night in Phallic Fortress that the huge man from the future discovered some writing that would eventually lead him to his prime mission in this "new" life in the past, although he didn't know it at first. But for now, it was time for bed. Eric was tired. He deleted his clothing, hit a few poses in the mirror-- turning himself on just a bit, and then instructed the Needle Orb to turn off the lights. He put himself to sleep and didn't awaken until about an hour after sunrise the next morning. • • • • • It was a sunny, but cold, February Monday morning and the Seattle rush hour was well underway by the time Eric woke up. He watched with interest the automobiles as they moved along the freeways and arterials below. He made himself some breakfast in his new kitchen-- Eric had always loved to cook, frequently shunning the food replicators on the Punxsutawney in favor of actually "cooking" his own stuff. Sure, the ingredients had to be replicated, which he did this morning, but it was so much more rewarding to be able to combine those ingredients and make it yourself. Just tasted better. As he sat as his table, looking out over the city, he was full of expectation. At the same time, though, he felt that funny feeling he had had the day before. It was a longing-- a hunger. It wasn't anything like he had experienced before this whole Testos Four/move-to-the-past had started. He thought about Vance. He was getting all warm inside. He was getting aroused. Then he remembered that he had instructed the nanites to run a diagnostic on these feelings. Why hadn't he received a report? "Nanites, report on yesterday's deep-level pattern scan." His visual responded with the message, "Pattern scan was not initiated." Eric remembered the distraction of seeing Vance. He must have assumed the nanites were going to automatically do the scan. He remembered they had said, "The process would take a few hours." "Well, initiate the scan now." "Commander," the Needle Orb's voice echoed through the fortress. It was a pleasing, male voice-- one of authority, but also one of comfort. "Deep-level scan has been processed. Analysis complete." "But I thought it would take a few hours," Eric said. "Orb/nanite interface has allowed for much faster results. I can cancel the interface, if you wish," Needle said. "No. Not necessary. I just forgot that you guys were working together now," Eric said. "Please give me the analysis." "You have been infused with testostonite, which has partially altered your physiology. The result has been a magnification of your previous level of strength, and other modifications. No systemic transmutation has occurred, however most of your physiology has adapted to accommodate the testostonite." Eric had noticed a feeling of strength and vigor since he arrived here. "Am I in any physical distress or danger?" the commander asked, concerned. "No. You are perfectly healthy. There is no long-term deleterious effect expected. However, the unusual drive you have been periodically experiencing is in fact a byproduct effect of the testostonite. You will need to be aware of this drive and heed it." "And... how do I heed it?" "The drive and pang of need you feel is tied directly to your original physiology as a PBS. As the testostonite has interacted with your pheromones, it has mutated and has caused you to require periodic ingestion of human semen. You will need to find a source of semen and ingest it regularly." "How regularly?" "About two or three times a week oughta do it," the Orb said rather glibly. "And... if I don't?" "Without semen, you will weaken. Prolonged privation will cause loss of strength, dizziness, possible hallucinations, acne, spasms, goiter, hemorrhoids, ED, psoriasis, unconsciousness, and ultimately-- death." "Death? And you call this `perfectly healthy' with `no long-term deleterious effect'?" he demanded. "Sorry. Maybe I understated it a bit at first," the Orb said. "But really, commander, look around. This planet is full of virile, muscular, sexy men. You are Superhuman to them. Your physique and your pheromones make you practically irresistible to nearly every man who sees you. You really think you're going to have a problem finding semen? Gimme a break." Eric smirked a smile, but then got serious. This Orb reading my mind to determine that I have a high aptitude for a sense of humor is getting out of hand. "Orb," he said, "I don't really think this is an appropriate place for humor." "Understood." "In the future, please make every effort to monitor my emotional state, and modify your `humor' quotient accordingly-- especially noteworthy is the requirement that when delivering stressful information, humor is not usually appropriate," the huge man said. "Understood. Sorry, commander. Modification has been made." "Thank you." "You're welcome," the Orb voice said. "You know..." Eric started, "it would be helpful for me if I had a physical point of reference when addressing you. Is it possible for you to manifest yourself in humanoid form?" "Of course. Please specify physical characteristics." "Well, first off, keep that voice. It's good," Eric said. "Second, fabricate human male appearance. Very muscular, very handsome-- according to preferences you can find in my brain-- but not so good looking that you distract me from human men-- unless you yourself can supply me with the semen I will need." "Unfortunately, commander," the voice no longer echoed throughout Phallic Fortress, but was now localized-- coming from directly behind Eric, "I am not able to adequately replicate that for you." Eric stood and turned around. "Shit, you startled me!" He looked at the big, handsome man. "Orb?" "Aye sir," he answered. He resembled Vance, quite a bit-- a bodybuilder's build, probably 6'1" and maybe 220 pounds. Very handsome. He wore a red and black command-line Star Fleet uniform with one pip rank on his collar. "Should I call you `Ensign Orb'?" Eric smiled. "Whatever you like, sir. I am here to assist and serve," he smiled and his eyes twinkled. "You may change my appearance however you wish, including my clothing." "Uh-- that won't be necessary," the commander said. "I'm glad to meet you, ensign. Your presence here will be welcome." "Thank you, sir," the Orb-man said. "I look forward to interacting with you, as a humanoid." "So, back to our conversation... tell me this: You can create this invisible fortress for me, replicate real food, fabricate forcefields, make Phallic Fortress invisible-- and yet you're not able to replicate human semen? Gimme a break," the commander said, mimicking the Orb. "Sir, I understand your skepticism, but it is true. When the Orbs were designed, the Testones made us unable to replicate that most basic of substances. Their intent was to make sure that the semen supply would not be contaminated with `synthetic' mixes." Eric nodded, and rubbed his eyes. "I guess I understand. Even our replicators aren't perfect. I can always tell a replicated wine when I taste one." "Precisely," the ensign said. Eric sat down at his breakfast table. The ensign moved toward the huge man. "Sir, your eggs have cooled. Would you like me to warm them?" the ensign asked. "Yes, please." The ensign moved his hand over the commander's plate and the eggs began to steam. "Thank you," Eric responded. As Armstrong finished his meal, the ensign stood at his side, occasionally refilling his coffee. Eric pondered his Internet reading the night before. He looked forward to reading more, but the hunger pang was growing stronger. He looked up at the ensign. "I thought you said I would need semen only a few times a week. I was just with Vance yesterday, and yet now I'm `hungry' again." "Your needs will vary. Perhaps you need additional quantities now, after your travel through space and time-- and with all of the activity you've had in designing your home here." "Yeah, maybe so," Eric said, finishing off the last of his breakfast. He looked out over the city. "Well, I guess I'd better go find a man." The ensign looked out in the same direction as the commander. "Shouldn't be too hard, sir. Not for you." Episode 3: Nathan The culture of the 21st century was fascinating to Eric. He had always had a love for Earth history, and now, actually being in here in the past was very exciting to him. He was fascinated with the people, the architecture and the technology of the day. Nonetheless, his growing pang-- his need for human semen-- was becoming more and more distracting as he mingled among the Seattleites downtown. In his smaller, more discrete, "Eric" persona, the commander still turned many heads, but it was at least manageable. He also found that having the nanites fabricate looser-fitting clothes helped. The commander had developed an affection for the many coffee shops that populated the city. They provided comfortable places for people to gather and interact. Just watching the socialization afforded Eric with not only valuable learning experiences, but fascinating entertainment as well. It would be at one of these coffee shops that the commander would take a major step in defining his new role in the Earth of the past; and, he would meet the source of his next dose of semen. He had "planted" himself at a corner table in a quiet coffee shop. It wasn't a big chain store-- just a "mom and pop" shop in a rather rundown part of town. Eric had brought a "laptop computer" with him, that he had fabricated at Phallic Fortress so he could do more "surfing" of the Internet. With a warm cup of coffee next to his computer, he fit right in. He divided his attention between the news, stories and pictures on his computer screen-- and "people watching" which provided a never-ending source of fascination for him. For being the dead of winter in a northern city like this, Seattle seemed to sport a very healthy share of male pulchritude, many of them willing to take off their heavy jackets once inside a coffee shop and allow any interested eyes to enjoy. It was by no means the kind of eye candy the commander was used to, but the "hunt" now became even more thrilling. It was mid-afternoon, and the coffee shop had become relatively quiet, with just a few other patrons besides Eric. While he perused some news sites on the Internet, he was startled by yelling at the front of the store. A man with dark head-covering was yelling at the woman behind the counter; he was obviously pointing some kind of weapon at her and demanding that she give him all of her legal tender. He turned to the few, stunned, patrons and waved his weapon, yelling, "And all of you stay seated! Don't try anything funny and you won't be hurt!" The woman was shaking-- obviously terrified. She tried to open the machine that contained the legal tender, but it seemed that she couldn't remember how to do it. Poor girl, she was just so scared. Eric's adrenalin was flowing and his Star Fleet training immediately kicked in. He softly said to himself, "Analyze that weapon and engage appropriate shielding." "Shielding engaged," the nanite message said on his visual interface in his brain. "Assume Natural persona, with uniform," he whispered. He immediately "grew" into his huge, original self, wearing his black and blue commander's uniform. He stood from his little table and slowly walked toward the holdup man. "Put the weapon down," he ordered. His voice, not to mention his freakishly huge physical presence, was quite intimidating. But the crook was not deterred. "Get back! Stop right there!" The commander didn't stop. "Okay, Mr. Star Fleet," the crook said nervously, "You may be huge, but I'll shoot you if you take one more step!" The commander kept walking. The crook fired one shot, and then another. They both were absorbed by the commander's shield. In a panic, the crook pointed the gun at the woman. "I don't know what you are, but if you don't stop, I swear I'll kill her!" The commander hesitated. He was about five to ten feet from the man now. The woman, still shaking, covered her face with her hands and screamed. As the crook, startled by the woman's screaming, looked away from the commander, toward her, Armstrong lunged at him. As he did, the gun went off, and the bullet hit the woman in the arm. Armstrong grabbed the gun from the crook and with one hand he crushed it-- his massive arm bulged as his powerful hand squeezed it, reducing it to a lump of metal. He dropped it to the ground and held the crook's hands behind his back. "Alert security," he told another employee. "The police are on their way," a woman at a table called out. "I called 9-1-1 with my cell phone." Armstrong looked at the clerk with the wounded arm. She was slumped down on the floor now, bleeding. "We have a medical emergency here," he said loudly. "They're bringing an ambulance,"the woman at the table said. Within minutes, police cars pulled up and the place was locked down. Moments later, firefighters and paramedics were on the scene, their trucks and cars wailing that same "siren" sound he had heard when he was at the warehouse. The police handcuffed the crook and took him away. Officers remained on the scene to collect evidence and to interview witnesses, including the huge commander. The officer who interviewed Armstrong was incredulous at his size, and amused at his uniform. "You on the way to a costume party?" he asked, looking up at the giant of a man. "Excuse me?" Armstrong asked. "This getup," the officer said, motioning to the commander's clothing. "What are you-- you supposed to be a Star Trek character or something?" Puzzled, Armstrong said, "Oh yeah. Yeah-- going to a costume party. Sorry, I guess I'm just a little shaken up about all this," he feigned. "So, some of the other witnesses say the guy shot right at you-- twice-- at nearly point-blank range," the officer continued. "We can't find any bullet holes in the walls. You care to tell me what happened?" "Uh," the commander looked around at the walls behind him. "Well, those bullets have to be somewhere. He did shoot at me, but I wasn't hit," he lied. Again, the police officer had a hard time believing the huge man. "Dude, you're the biggest guy I've ever seen, but I don't think you're bullet proof." The commander cracked a smile. "No. Not bullet proof," he continued to lie. As the cop grilled him, Armstrong noticed that the woman was being tended to by a team of paramedics. The group of uniformed men had her lying on the floor. But it was the one medic who was facing away from Armstrong, hovering over the woman, who caught the commander's eye. In fact, Armstrong did a double-take. The man's light blue shirt contained some fuckin' wide lats, tapering down to a muscle-ass that even his dark blue paramedic pants couldn't camouflage. The guy's arms were massive-- bulging all over hell-- out of his light blue short sleeves as he worked on the woman. The cotton of his shirt seemed barely able to contain the rippling muscles of the muscular man. The commander was infatuated. He paid special attention to his pheromones, efforting them toward the muscular, young stud. Finally, after taking Armstrong's contact information, with a "enjoy yourself at the party," the officer allowed the commander to leave. But Eric wasn't leaving. He approached the paramedics as they worked on the woman. She was conscious. "You going to be okay?" he asked her, knowing that the hunky paramedic would look up. "Yes. Yes, I think I'll be fine," she said. "I'm so sorry I wasn't able to stop him before he shot," Armstrong said. "What? I think you saved my life!" she said. "I owe you everything." Armstrong smiled. The paramedic was indeed looking up at him now, completely distracted from his work. The commander looked down at him. God, he had a gorgeous face too! "Is she going to be okay?" he asked the hunk. "Oh. Uh, yes," he answered, trying to get back to wrapping her arm for transport to the hospital. "She'll be fine." A few minutes later, as the huge man in a Star Fleet uniform watched, the paramedics loaded the woman onto a stretcher and put her into an ambulance. The muscular paramedic closed the double doors and the ambulance left the scene with its lights flashing. Amidst the crowd of onlookers, Armstrong and the well-built man stood together. "I'm... Eric," Armstrong said, trying to decide how to refer to himself in his Natural, huge state. "Nathan," the medic said. He was a half foot shorter than the commander, which meant he was still very tall, and his muscled body betrayed many hours in the gym, possibly on the posing stage as well. In short, he was stacked with muscles! He looked up at Armstrong in awe, obviously appreciative of muscular development, as most bodybuilders naturally are. "Shit, man. They said you held that guy until the cops got here-- without so much as a struggle." "Yeah," Armstrong smiled. "I have some military training." "Some people said the guy shot you, but the bullets just bounced off!" he said, trying to sound funny. The commander laughed loudly. The guy laughed too. Armstrong's countenance got serious. "Where are you stationed?" "Seneca Street station," Nathan said. He inadvertently scratched his cheek, and Armstrong noticed a ring of gold on one finger-- he immediately understood that it was a wedding band. "Shit man," Nathan said, "You gotta hold the Mr. Olympia crown. You're huge!" As soon as he said it, he felt embarrassed. He wasn't used to giving out blatant compliments like that. But for some reason, he just couldn't suppress his awe. "Nathan, we gotta go," called another man wearing the same kind of uniform as the hunk. "When you get off?" Armstrong said. Yeah, it was a ballsy move, but he knew he had Nathan where he wanted him. "In an hour." Understanding that the huge muscle-freak wanted to hang out after his shift, Nathan said, "But I gotta get home to my wife." Shit, why did he say that? Far more than wanting to spend time with his wife, Nathan had an irresistible urge to get to know this monster of a man better. "Oh, well, I was just so fascinated by what you do..." Eric said, motioning to the paramedic and fire equipment. "Yeah... me too," Nathan said. Clearly, his words were not making any sense. "I mean, yeah, I'd like to show you..." "Cool," Armstrong's handsome smile made Nathan go weak in the knees. "You know, I think my wife is planning on spending the evening with her sister," Nathan said. "Yeah, I remember now, she is." "Really?" "Yeah. You want to stop by the station?" "Sure," Armstrong said. "Uh, I'll just go home real quick and change out of this costume. I was going to a party, but ..." "Yeah, I was wondering about that," Nathan said. His eyes traveled all over the Super-hero's physique. "But it sure does hug everything, I mean all those muscles..." he said. Damn, he couldn't figure out why he was acting like this! He felt like a little girl swooning over her favorite movie star. "Thanks," Armstrong said. "Nathan," the other guy called again. "Yeah, coming!" "I'll be at your station in an hour," Armstrong said. "See you then," Nathan said, packing the last of his equipment into his paramedic truck. • • • • • Nathan and his EMT partner drove back to their station, and the boner in Nathan's pants was very painful. Shit. I have never had these feelings before. What is this? I'm no faggot! he thought. • • • • • As Nathan ended his shift and changed into his street clothes at the fire station, there was only one thing on his mind. Well, maybe two. The second one was, how in hell do I get my dick to relax! He struggled with it, forcing it into this street pants, hoping none of the other firefighters would see him change. Downstairs at the fire station, a Ferrari GT pulled up and parked in front of the doors of the station, right under the big "NO PARKING" signs, designed to keep the roadway clear for fire trucks to exit. Armstrong opened the door and got out. More than one fireman inside the station watched as the unbelievably muscled man walked toward the pedestrian door. He opened it and walked inside. The station, full of stereotypical jock firefighters-- not one of them in bad shape-- seemed to stop in its tracks. "Nathan here?" the giant asked. One man turned his head and hollered up the stairs, "Nathan, there's someone here who wants to see you." As he spoke, his eyes didn't leave the incredible physique of Armstrong. "On my way," a voice echoed down the stairway. The firemen talked with Armstrong for a few minutes, some mentioning his Ferrari; some (well, all) unable to hide their wonder at the physique that stood before them, clad in a tight-fitting long-sleeved shirt and jeans. Not one person made mention of the fact that Armstrong's ride was illegally blocking the fire station exit. Nathan made it downstairs, and the two guys who came down the stairs behind him audibly gasped. "My god, that guy is one hell of a muscleman!" he said amazed. Armstrong heard the comment, but didn't respond. He was immediately reminded of a character he had been reading about on the Internet, and at that moment, an idea began to formulate in his mind. He thought about the woman who was shot, the thug who shot her, and the character from that story series-- MuscleMan. Right now, though, there was Nathan to think about. And Armstrong's cock was so ready for some interaction with this hot, built hunk. But later-- later he'd need to sit down and do some thinking and planning-- especially concerning this MuscleMan character he had read about. As Armstrong and Nathan rode off in the red Ferrari, the firemen watched. Not one of them would ever mention it, but all of them felt a pang of jealousy that Nathan had this new, huge friend. "You originally from around here?" Armstrong asked Nathan as they sped down the streets. "Uh, yeah, I am," the star-struck paramedic answered. "You?" "Well, I guess you'd say yes," the commander answered. "But I've been away for a long time-- done a lot of traveling." The Ferrari finally pulled up to a home on Queen Anne Hill that until about 45 minutes ago had been a vacant lot-- and to everyone's eyes except Nathan and Eric's, it still was. A one-piece garage door swung out and up, and the sports car pulled inside, the door closing behind. Inside the house, it looked like the home had been completely renovated. It definitely fit in with the older neighborhood, but it was all new-looking inside. Orb Two had done a nice job. Armstrong could have taken Nathan to Phallic Fortress, but he knew the firehunk would be totally distracted by that. Floating above the Space Needle would necessitate some explanations-- something the huge muscleman wasn't in the mood to do. "Nice place," Nathan said. Admittedly, he wasn't paying much attention to the furnishings nor the architecture. Upstairs, in "Eric's bedroom," Nathan couldn't peel his eyes off the commander. "Dude, I never imagined a guy could be as huge, and muscular as you are," he said. Nathan's big size was extremely impressive to Eric as well. The commander's hard-on was definitely controlling the situation. "Thanks," he said, pulling his own shirt out from his jeans. "You okay with me getting a little more comfortable? Maybe... well, you are obviously a very successful bodybuilder in your own right... I bet you can appreciate the hard work that goes into building muscle..." He pulled the shirt off. Nathan's eyes were huge. His mouth dropped open. Eric loved the effect he was having on the young firefighter. The commander slowly unzipped his own pants and started pulling them down. "How about you?" he asked Nathan. "You gunna make me be the only one to do the showing off?" "Aw, I... I don't have anything to show off next to you, dude." His mouth was dry and his voice cracked. His heart raced. And yet, the lingering, guilty questions persisted. What in hell am I doing here? I've never been turned on by a guy! But, shit-- this muscle monster is driving me crazy! I feel like I'm going to cum, just watching him! "Come on, Nathan," Eric prodded, "don't be shy." By this time, the commander was wearing only a skimpy thong-like thing. His 6'10" frame, filled with 390 pounds of fat-free muscle, bulged and rippled for his hunky admirer. Dumbstruck, Nathan started undressing. He didn't really understand why he was doing this-- it was so gay. And yet, at this point, if Eric had asked him for a blow-job, he'd have willingly obliged. He couldn't figure it out; but this was one situation where figuring it out wasn't going to work. This was not a time to be using your brains. As with the commander, the organ that was doing Nathan's "thinking" wasn't his brain at all, it was his penis. And as the muscular paramedic stepped out of his clothes, his penis did indeed pop up and out, giving away his intensely aroused state. "Dude, you didn't have to take everything off," Eric smiled. Nathan was only slightly embarrassed. His cock rose in a virile salute to the commander. "But then again..." Eric said, admiring Nathan's cock, "your biceps and chest aren't the only big muscles you've got." He watched, as Nathan's thick member bobbed with his heartbeats. "Am I making you get hard like that?" Nathan could only nod. "Sorry, dude," the huge Commander Armstrong smiled as he took a step toward Nathan. "I get that a lot." As he stood directly in front of the smaller bodybuilder, Eric bent forward slightly and cupped Nathan's balls in his big hand, gently tickling his perineum with his fingertips. Nathan closed his eyes, moaning. Precum began dribbling up and out of his slit hole. Eric moved his fingertips slowly. Nathan moaned some more, and then opened his eyes. He looked right at the commander's impossibly thick, pouting chest. "Go ahead, man," Eric smiled. Nathan didn't have to be asked twice. He reached up and began feeling Eric out. The slabs of pec meat were the biggest muscles Nathan had ever touched. Eric rippled them slowly for Nathan's hands, and Nathan groaned as his dick got even harder-- if that were possible. Eric's hand moved up onto Nathan's iron-hard shaft, and after just one light squeeze, the thick cock began spewing out globs of ejaculate. Immediately, the hungry superhuman bent over and began swallowing the warm bursts of milk. As he did so, he could feel his body being refreshed and strengthened. It was like nothing he had ever experienced. For his part, Nathan was just beginning the most powerful orgasm of his life. He squirted for so long, and with so much uncontrollable intensity that he nearly passed out. The huge muscleman, with his powerful lips, seemed to almost pull the liquid from the fireman's cock. Nathan had always enjoyed a good blow job (by his wife, and various other women) but this was like nothing he could have ever dreamed of. After a few minutes, he was still shooting! Toward the end, it got downright painful. He longed for Eric to stop, and yet as the pain increased and he started to call out in agony, this seemed to only intensify the giant's desire for more. By the time he was completely drained, Nathan's limp cock was red, sore, and even throbbing in pain. Eric stood up, wiping his chin and and his lips, putting his fingers inside his mouth to enjoy every last drop. Nathan fell onto the bed, exhausted. But the commander was just beginning. The muscular body lying next to him was a complete turn-on. He bent over Nathan and pulled the paramedic fully onto the bed, spreading his arms and legs wide, on his stomach. That tight muscle-ass seemed to call to him, inviting him inside. Eric ripped his thong off, and his enormous cock sprang up, quickly inflating to its maximum size and rigidity. He put his hands on the bed. Nathan was barely conscious, near sleep. He was dehydrated and in need of rest. The hydration problem Eric was about to remedy, but the rest problem would have to wait. The mammoth man began to rub his gigantic cock between Nathan's butt cheeks, and Nathan moaned in response, even though he was too tired to even raise his head. Streams of the commander's precum began to drop down onto the small of Nathan's back, pooling in between the ripples of muscle and the ridges of his spinal chord. The base of Eric's thick penis moved up and down in the crack; his oversized balls rubbed onto the tight ass muscle each time the commander pushed up all the way. And with each push, his cock would rise into the air, and if he held it there for a second, he could flex his own ass muscles and make another drop of clear fluid squirt out and slowly drop down with a long web-like trail holding it in mid air for a few seconds before it finally made its way down to Nathan's back. All the while, the superhero was watching the vast, muscular expanse of Nathan's back, lusting over his prey's wide lats and tapered waist. He leaned forward and reclined onto Nathan's back; his enormous weight making it difficult for the fireman to breathe. Eric's ass cheeks flexed, and he pushed his torso tightly against Nathan's ass. His cock head oozed out another dose of precum and it squirted onto Nathan's back. He was too close to cumming to do this again. He pushed himself up, widened Nathan's legs, and pushed his wet plumb against the pink sphincter, wetting it and preparing it for what was to come. For some unknown reason, when he ejaculated the commander didn't lose any of the benefits of the semen he had drunk. Apparently, his body utilized it all, and whether through urine, feces, sweat or ejaculation, his body didn't pass any of it. And for this same reason, his human "partners" didn't benefit from his superhuman semen either. Academic analysis, though, wasn't really foremost on the giant's mind right now. Unable to hold back any longer, he pushed himself inside Nathan. At this point, Nathan couldn't help but raise his head in response to the unreal pain of having his ass penetrated by this mighty weapon. And again, the pain he inflicted only turned the commander on all the more. He didn't push fast; but neither did he hold back. In a steady, even thrust, he forced his way inside-- it only took a few seconds for the manicured hair of his pubes to reach Nathan's quivering ass muscles. Now fully inside, Eric couldn't control it any longer. He flexed his glutes and held very still, gritting his teeth. Unfortunately for Nathan, he was facing down, because if he could have seen the image of Eric holding it there, he would have had enough fodder for a lifetime of jerking off. The commander's insanely developed body tightened-- every muscle and sinew rippling, jerking, fighting, and moving in an erotic, muscular symphony of pre-orgasm. His mammoth arms bulged, his chest flexed, his legs grew and hardened. And finally, Eric let out a soft yell and a gasp. His cock exploded inside Nathan, and the young muscle stud yelped in pain. Eric put his hands on Nathan's lats and held on for dear life. It was going to be a ride to remember. His powerful cock pumped glob after superhuman glob of jizz into the firefighter, fed by the enormous power of his ass muscles, flexing and pumping all over hell. Indeed, a casual observer in the room wouldn't have been casual at all. It was an amazing muscle sex scene. No human could have helped but spontaneously ejaculate at the scene. And that proverbial fly on the wall, watching the goings-on, would have probably burst at the sight. It was that powerful. The commander orgasmed for what seemed like hours-- at least for Nathan. And when it was over, the two men hunkered down in the holographic house for the whole night. Eric made sure to rehydrate and feed the weakened muscle hunk, so as to keep him strengthened for the next round of sex. It was a two-man orgy that lasted into the morning hours. The next morning, Commander Armstrong dropped Nathan off back at the fire station so the young stud could grab his car and drive home. As they parted ways, neither of them knew what story Nathan would try to tell his wife as to why he had been away all night long... Back at Phallic Fortress, the commander, after making himself a healthy breakfast, sat down with Ensign Orb in the lab, and began discussing some of the ideas he had developed. The ensign was very helpful with suggestions and support. He was, after all, there to assist and serve. He listened intently as the commander told him about the MuscleMan character he had read about-- the creation of the writer Derek Flex. And it was out of this brainstorming and research session that the two of them came up with a mission and an identity for the commander's many remaining days in the past. Your comments are welcome. Please click the following address to send the author a message: sean@buffmuscles.com Also, please make sure to visit my website: http://buffmuscles.com This story is © Sean Scott. It may be posted on other websites only if the following conditions are met: 1) It must be posted in its entirety, without modifications or edits of any kind. 2) This notice, and all references to authorship and copyright are intact. 3) The above links to my email address and my BuffMuscles website must also be included.