Muscle Savior
How does a relatively normal, gentle, unassuming kind of guy get mixed
up in a life of crime? It can happen. I know because I lived that life,
though now it seems like it was ages ago. As life is stranger than fiction,
it took one fateful night to both emancipate me from crime and awaken
my repressed sexuality. It was in every way the night I became a man under
the most unconventional circumstances imaginable. Please bear with my
detailed history as it explains things far too important to leave out.
My name is Joel. I am an orphan. I grew up with foster parents. Unfortunately,
Fate dealt me a lousy hand and the circumstances of my childhood were
nothing less than wretched. I shared a five bedroom house with Mr. and
Mrs. McKinney and nine other boys. All of them had come to live at the
McKinney's for various reasons. These children had no parents, had parents
in jail, or had simply been abandoned; not a very uplifting or happy
bunch needless to say.
In order to be consistent, Fate had me as roommate to the Johnston
Brothers, Ian and Wally, the two meanest sons of bitches you could ever
hope to not meet. Ian was fifteen and Wally was thirteen when they arrived
at the house, and I was merely nine years old. Their story was a bit
different than the rest. They apparently had decent parents but were
such... such bad seeds (for lack of a better term) that as a last straw,
they set their home on fire in which their younger brother and parents
nearly died. That's when they were sent away. Somehow the juvenile system
had, for whatever reasons of insanity, shuffled them until they ended
up at the McKinney's. It was immediately apparent that the two of them
were just not right, The following years of my life were pure hell,
and it only became worse.
Ian always threatened to kill me. Often in the middle of the night
I would awaken to the feel of a cold metal blade at my throat. He would
hold the knife in place for hours torturing my mind with the different
ways he could kill me... stomach-turning fantasies too sordid to repeat.
It was Ian's idea of fun to torture me this way and Wally was his partner
in crime. The McKinney's were too stressed and absorbed in handling
the younger children. The other older kids, with their own emotional
problems, ignored my pleas for help. I was alone in my very unique prison.
When Ian turned eighteen, he and Wally repeated their previous incomprehensible
crime and set fire to the McKinney's house. Before fleeing, the brothers
grabbed me and forced me to follow their escape. "If we're caught, we'll
tell them how you helped set the fire," Wally threatened me with a positively
evil glare in his eyes. I would later regret not perishing in that fire
that night, which, to my horror, claimed the life of Mrs. McKinney.
The next six years of my life I lived as a refugee aiding (under threats
of certain, gruesome death) the brothers in their spree of robbery,
assault, and eventually murder again. I never actually hurt anyone but
served as a sort of lookout during robberies and such illicit activities.
I would alert them in the case that someone approached and it often
resulted in terrible beatings and several stabbing deaths of victims
at the hands of Ian and Wally, crimes that remained unsolved.
I was so depressed by my eighteenth birthday that I came so close
to committing suicide. It really was a wonder that I was still alive.
The three of us moved constantly from place to place, always dirty,
seedy criminal-infested environments. Nights in strange places as I
pretended to sleep with the sound of Ian and Wally fucking the shit
out of whores in the same room. Needless to say I was a virgin and not
even the least interested in sex anyway, probably sexually stunted from
such harrowing living conditions.
But let me get to my main point... Let me tell you about the night
that culminated in the most unbelievable juxtaposition of violence,
freedom, terror, and sexual fulfillment imaginable. It is a most incredible
tale, but I am living proof of it. A stroke of bad luck for the brothers
became my saving grace.
It was a warm Thursday night. The air smelled moist but the sky was
clear. Wally had been scoping a house since about ten o'clock and it
the lights had been off for at least three hours. We made our move.
Ian managed to force the back door open and in we went, three figures
in dark clothing. I was already getting sick to my stomach... praying
that no one would be there or that they would sleep through this violation
of their home.
I found the bedroom and there was definitely a figure asleep in the
bed. Damn! At the doorway I remained crouched for any sign of movement
while the brothers looked for valuables in the other rooms. I prayed
again that they would find good loot. Ian had a habit of waking the
occupants demanding money or jewels if the rest of the home turned up
fruitless. This often ended in terrible, violent encounters.
Suddenly a head stirred on the bed. I began to tremble. Would another
helpless victim have to die? The figure's head poked up and looked right
at me. Out of some strange reflex, I put my index finger to my mouth
as if to say "Shhh! Don't make a sound and they'll leave without anyone
getting hurt. He seemed to receive my telepathy because he froze in
place and we both maintained this for the next minute which seemed like
an eternity, eyes locked, both full of fear.
Suddenly the light switch was flipped. Ian and Wally stormed past
me into the room with hunting knife and metal pipe in hand respectively.
"Where's the money... the jewels... C'mon you Fucker!" Ian wailed, swinging
the large knife.
The next few moments almost seemed to happen in slow motion. In a
fit of adrenaline, the figure in the bed leaped onto the floor, the
fear melting from his eyes. It became clear that he was a huge, unclothed
man with bodybuilder-type musculature and stood about 6'5" tall. "You
picked the wrong house!" he grumbled at which point Ian exclaimed "Fuck,
he's big!" and went knife first for his throat.
A large, tanned tree trunk of a leg shot up. The sole of his bare
foot caught Ian square in the chest sending him flying back against
the wall knocking the wind out of him. Wally charged him, pipe in hand.
The hard metal made contact with the man's right shoulder as he ducked
to avoid a blow to the head. He howled in pain, while his left fist
slammed into his attacker's groin. Wally inhaled a deep breath, barely
making a sound but his eye's almost popped right out of his head, shocked
by the pain of his crushed gonads.
At this point I began thinking of ways to retreat but my legs felt
as if they were glued to the floor.
Not losing any opportunities in his defense, the "victim" seized Wally's
nuts with one hand and his neck with the other and lifted the 180 lbs.
man right over his head. For one moment I was completely in awe of this
Herculean form with a grown man pressed over his head. Time froze still
for the moment and I could hear my heart beating like a drum. The younger
Johnston's body came down back first with a chilling crack over the
large man's left knee. This was followed by a crushing fist-blow to
his throat and I knew it was over for him.
By now Ian had caught his breath and was again charging with knife
in hand. The bodybuilder countered with a swift martial arts move that
flipped his attacker over his back. He then quickly grappled the smaller
man into a headlock of some sort. After some struggling, they ended
up on the floor facing me. The man who had tortured me for the past
nine years was immobile before me straining with all his might.
The muscular man began so slowly stand up with his joint lock still
in place and it began to hit me how large he was with the fiercely struggling
Ian hanging like a rag doll. As he reached full height, the "victim-no-longer"
jerked his arms and torso in a quick, cranking motion producing a loud
snapping sound. I watched this naked figure with the lifeless body still
locked in place and a strange feeling came over me. As horrifying as
the situation was, I wasn't saddened by what had happened. I felt as
if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
The man before me dropped the body to the floor and aimed his sights
on me with the fierce fight still in his eyes. As he leapt for me, his
gaze suddenly softened. He began to notice me trembling.
"Please don't hurt me!" I tried to say, but no words would come out.
It was as if we connected again and he understood. He knelt down and
put his large hands on my shoulders as if to calm me.
"It's okay... I know you didn't want to hurt me....my name is Marc,"
he stated in a warm, gentle voice that betrayed the earlier harsh grumble.
It was as if he once again became that man who first poked his head
out of bed; the one as scared as I was over the possible outcome of
the night.
"J-J Joel," I quietly stammered getting calmer every moment. He then
gently picked me up in his arms and lay me on the bed. I began to sit
up as he stood before me, his nude body glistening with sweat, every
bulging muscle pumped from the physical exertion. Strange as it seems,
I began to forget everything that just happened and all I could see
was this beautiful form before me. And the form before me seemed as
entranced with me.
I watched as his eyes moved to my crotch and I looked down, noticing
the tent in my dark blue pants. I looked back at him and he began lifting
my black shirt over my head and I obliged, lifting my arms to assist.
It was as if the room was fading away and I felt his breath as he unbuttoned
my pants, unlaced my shoes and proceeded to gently strip me nude. By
now, I could see his cock hardening into what seemed to be at least
a good eleven inches a perfect compliment to his gigantic body.
He then began to gently kiss me on the mouth, one hand caressing my
chest and the other firm on my cock. I began to run my fingers over
his unbelievably hard, rippling arm muscles and continued to explore
his whole torso. By the time my hand reached his penis, it was sort
of jumping, very sensitive to my touch.
"Somehow, I just feel like I understand you... like we just connect,"
he offered in a soothing tone. I nodded in response. Suddenly, animal
instinct took over and my tongue began exploring his every muscular
crevice. I tasted his deeply cut abs and traveled to his large erect
nipples and found my way to his man-scented armpits. This manly flavor
was pure ecstasy. All the while he playfully flexed for me and ran his
fingers through my hair. Then he gently grabbed my head with one hand
and guided me down to his brick-hard cock and I began devouring the
head. I only managed to get it part way in but was in pure bliss.
Marc began moaning quietly in a deep voice, "Ohhh......uungh......ah-aa-uuh."
I started voraciously pleasuring him with my mouth. His muscles began
quivering and tensing and I suddenly began to feel my sexual power.
I took his huge balls in my mouth and kneaded them with my tongue, my
two hands jerked his beautiful, shiny spit-covered tool. His powerful
hands massaged my back and shoulders. The same hand that had snuffed
the life from my torturing captors felt completely healing now.
I swallowed his cock again and he moaned louder and louder. "Uuuungh!"
he cried and a load of sweet jism shot against the back of my throat
choking me. Relentlessly, I swallowed as he spasmed and sent another
load... and then another. Cum was flowing out of my mouth, my gulps
unable to contain the man-juice. He then began to stand up and gently
lifted my hungry mouth off his still rock-hard cock.
"I know what you need," he devilishly said, grinning. Two strong hands
clamped both sides of my waist and up I went. I was totally suspended
by this he-man and unable to contain myself any longer, I shot hot cum
all over his face, wailing in ecstasy. I then felt him lowering me slowly
and I felt the head of his cum-covered cock at my hole. "Now for the
real orgasm," he said forcefully.
I screamed at the sudden searing pain in my rectum. Marc gently lifted
my up in down his monstrous pole. My screams turned into moans as he
impaled my small form with his mighty tool. The pleasure was much more
intense that anything I has previously encountered. I felt my jism-lubed
cock rubbing against his washboard abs. It was even harder now than
before my orgasm. He fucked my rhythmically as I licked every last bit
of my cum off his face and moaned in pleasure.
My mouth found his again and I hungrily devoured him again, my tongue
deep in his throat. We kissed passionately as he slid my impaled body
up and down, his super-human abs jerking my dick with the friction and
his massive pecs flexing and wriggling in pleasure. After what seemed
like close to an hour of this amazing penetration, I felt the impending
explosion swell in my cock. Just a I shot my load all over his bouncing
pecs, I felt an explosion of warm fluid in my ass. "Aaaaaaahhhhh," we
both screamed at our every spasm.
Marc gently lifted me off and lay me on the bed. He then lay next
to me on the bed. We were both silent in the afterglow. His massively-muscular,
sweat and cum covered body looked so beautiful to me. He then closed
his eyes as I gently lapped the cum of his flaccid cock and then his
abs, chest and neck. By the time I finished the last drop we both fell
into exhausted slumber.
I awoke the next day disoriented in a public park. I quickly made
my way out of the city and traveled on to begin a new life, not even
taking a glance behind.
I eventually settled in a small community and found an honest job.
These days I'm basically living a typical life, far from crime. I later
heard that two brothers, long suspected of a murderous trail of crime,
had been killed during a botched robbery attempt. They had apparently
and unfortunately attacked a professional bodyguard and extreme fighter
who, in self defense, had inflicted fatal neck and back injuries. No
charges were ever filed against the well respected martial artist. A
third fugitive is still rumored to be at large.