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Related article: Feats Of Strength
by Ray Wilder
Ray Wildaol.com When I was young I would wait with great anticipation for the old
Hercules films to come on television. Usually this would be on Saturday
mornings. And every once in a while no one else would be home. I'd take off
all my clothes except for my underpants and lay down on the floor on my
back in front of the television with my head on a pillow so I didn't have
to hold my head up. On either side of me was a large, over-stuffed armchair
with fat, wooden legs.
Invariably during the film, someone would try to persuade Hercules
to do something he didn't want to do. This persuasion usually took the form
of the man of muscle being tied between two sets of horses or ranchi bbs hardcore lolita chariots or
the like, sometimes with his friends buried in the dirt so they would be
trampled if Hercules was unsuccessful in his might. The horses would be
whipped and they free lolita cloud movies would attempt to run off in opposite directions and
Hercules' huge biceps and pectorals would bulge. He would grimace and groan
as the horses tried to pull Hercules apart but this mighty muscleman was
always just to great for the poor animals.
I would grab a leg of each of the armchairs and begin to pull them
towards me, relishing in the way the muscles on my arms and chest felt
under the exertion. And I would get hard. Real hard. My teen-age cock would
stick straight up through the hole in my underpants and the head would be
throbbing, right in the line of sight with the television.
During one of these movie episodes I noticed I was making progress
with moving the armchairs. In fact, they got so close that I wasn't getting
the feeling I normally did. So decided to lift up on the chairs. My own
pecs suddenly jumped in size and an incredible feeling washed over my
body. I was working these muscles harder than I ever had before. And there
was this guy on the television moaning and groaning and pulling and
bulging. And I started to moan and groan, but it wasn't because I was being
pulled apart by horses, though I wished I were. I was very close to
achieving orgasm. I noticed a small amount of fluid beginning to seep out
of the slit in the head of my cock. I pulled on the chairs even more. They
began to actually lift off the floor.
I had never really equated this kind of effort with the development
of large muscles. But at that moment, I knew what I had to do. And just as
the back legs of the chairs lifted off the carpet and my pecs were aching
so much I thought they were going to split right through my skin, I shot a
wad so big that when it came back down and splattered on my chest, it
covered my torso almost entirely. It was followed immediately by another
one almost as big and then several others that drooled down my cock and
soaked into the fabric dark lolita russian rompl of my underwear.
In that moment, my future was locked in place. I began to study the
process of body building and the sexual enjoyment which that physical
exertion beyond the normal endurance of the body brought me.
That was quite a naked child lolitas galleries few years ago. I kind of have to laugh because, as
big as I thought those guys in the movies were, I am so much bigger than
them now that I wonder what I could do with a couple of teams of horses. Or
who needs horses? The desert sun shines down mercilessly as I lean against the weight
I am pulling across the sands. Two massive chains with links four inches in
diameter are attached to my waist. The other ends of the chains are
attached to a huge sledge on which sits the Queen and her entire
entourage. I am pulling the shaded vehicle through the sand to the place of
This is the fourth time in four days I have been brought here. Or
should I say I have brought them here. Each time I have foiled the Queen's
plans to induce me to become her servant. She hopes I will eventually give
in, as each trip offers a more severe torture than the previous one.
The first was horses. Four of them attached to each of my massive
arms. They pulled in the sand and I pulled back until all eight horses lay
dead in the blistering heat. I hauled the barge back to the palace with
ease that day and spent that night in chains in my cell.
The next day I was again attached to the sliding platform and
caused to drag it out to this place. Waiting for me this time were two
groups of hugely muscled men. They each waited on either side of where I
would stand, holding a great length of rope. I took each rope by a loop and
braced myself against the pull of 200 men on either arm. Their muscles
bulged but mine bulged larger. One of the thick ropes finally gave way and
I would have been dragged through the sand by the men on the other side,
but I held my ground, my huge leg muscles swelling until they pressed hard
against themselves. In this tug-of-war I was also victorious.
This time, the barge was heavier on the return as it was also
carrying all the men I had just bested. Chains awaited me once again in my
cell, but I got tired of standing, as they were too short free lolita cloud movies to allow me to
lie down, so I grabbed the lengths and pulled. My huge biceps swelled and
my pecs swelled and my legs swelled and the walls of the cell gave way and
the chains pulled lose. I laid down and slept until the guards came for me
the next morning. They were surprised to see the two gaping holes in the
walls of the cell and me still laying there. Why didn't I escape?
That morning I was fitted with a kind of yoke. Only it was made out
of a slab of granite that weighed several tons. My arms were shackled to it
with immense chains and then the barge harness was again attached to my
waist. My enormous legs swelled with each step as I carried the stone and
dragged the Queen and her party the 5 miles back to the place of
I was surprised to see she was getting hi-tech on me. Waiting this
time for my trial were eight large trucks. Each group of four was hitched
to a chain harness which came back to were I would stand between them. I
walked to the center and placed the shackles on my wrist myself, showing my
disdain for her feeble attempts to conquer my strength. I stood between the
idling vehicles and waited for them to go into gear. My huge body, relaxed
and un-flexed, was still so enormous that the vehicles already seemed to be
I am huge. My 32" arms and 66" chest dwarf every man alive. My 48"
thighs are so powerful that one kick could send one of these huge trucks
flying. My back, so broad a normal person can barely reach across it from
shoulder to shoulder, is rippling with strength as I adjust myself in
preparation for this trial. Huge plates of muscle dance on my chest with
each movement. My deltoids are so massive they look like I'm wearing
football helmets on my shoulders. The flare of my lats expands from my
tight, muscular waist up to this incredible expanse of pure brute
force. And I'm just standing there.
Engines idle. Engines gun. The chain goes taut and I'm pulled off
my feet for a second. I quickly regain my footing and begin to pull against
the 12,000 horsepower that's pulling on each arm. The trucks engines rev,
the tires spin and the air is filled with huge clouds of black smoke from
the exhaust and the burning rubber of the tires. I swell. I throb. I am so
huge and getting more so. My gigantic arms increase in size as I slowly
bend them back together, dragging all eight trucks along with me.
Now the air is filled with the sound of screeching transmissions
and grinding gears. The drivers are trying to get some advantage but I am
too much for all of them. One by one the engines overheat and fail. When
the last one sputters its final belch of smog, I am standing there between
them, pumped, very pumped and very big. My huge chest is expanding to over
70" as I take great gasps of oxygen to feed my swollen physique.
I carry the granite yolk back to the castle, but the Queen, for
some reason, decides to make the slaves and truck drivers haul her barge
back. I think I'm starting to get to her.
The holes in the wall of my cell have not been repaired. I guess
they figure that if I really wanted to escape, no stone wall would deter
me. They are right.
So now here I am. Back at the place of persuasion again. Today the
crowd on the barge I pull is extremely large. I believe I am hauling over
500 people, not to mention my granite yolk again. As I near the place I can
see two large vehicles which seem to be sitting on some kind of track. The
distance closes and the vehicles turn out to be diesel locomotives. They
are facing away from each other and huge chains with links over 12" in
diameter are attached to the rear of each one. This gal just doesn't give
up. I leave the barge in its usual place and walk out to the track, tossing
the granite young teens lolitas rusia yolk away like it's a small piece of fabric. When I get there,
I turn around and discover the Queen has followed me out there. She says
nothing to me. She just stands there and watches as I attach myself to the
enormous shackles. I stand ready. She raises her hand for a moment and then
drops it. The locomotives come to life and begin to slowly move away from
me. The huge chain which attaches these three behemoths, the two engines
and I, slowly lifts until it becomes taught. All by itself, each chain
weighs almost one hundred tons.
Just as my arms are stretched to their full width, she signals
again and the engines stop. I am held firm, but it is really only the
weight of the chain which I am holding up. She walks up to me and rubs her
hands over my huge chest and plays with the enormous shapes of my body. She
tries to kiss me, but I let my mouth hang slack so all she gets is some
lose lip. This offends her and she slaps my face. I laugh. Here I am,
strung between two locomotives and she thinks a slap on the face is going
to do something? She slaps again and I laugh again. She doesn't know what
this is doing to me. She doesn't know how much I revel in these feats of
strength. My body was made to exert huge amounts of strength. I long for
the opportunity to use my huge muscles to their greatest advantage. Come
on. Turn your puny engines lose on me. There is nothing this huge body
can't do. The harder you make these magnificent muscles work, the bigger
and stronger they get. Let me have it.
She is fuming at my insolence. She underage lolita models naked
goes to spit in my face, but I
guess she figures that would be a very un-Queenly thing to do. Instead she
signals to the engine de chicas lolitas desnudas
drivers and then steps away.
This is it. The ultimate test of strength. No one has ever been
this strong. No one has ever been this mighty. I'm working my huge biceps
and pecs and the locomotives are churning out huge clouds of diesel smoke
and their steel wheels are screeching on the metal track. And I'm huge. And
I'm strong. So strong. And I'm beating these machines. My underage lolita models naked
hands are moving
closer together and my huge pecs are pressing so hard against the inside of
my skin they feel like their going to rip open. Huge muscles. Huge
strength. My hands are four feet apart. My biceps are growing. They must be
34" by now. My hands are two feet apart and I'm pulling with all my might
and the power of my muscles is just radiating off me like some kind of glow
or underage lolita models naked something. Everything is getting hot. The chain is hot. The track is
hot. The engines are hot and getting hotter. And I am so hot I can't stand
it. I have to scream with the joy of the effort. This is the best. This is
what this huge body is all about.
And now the track under the locomotives is starting to warp and
buckle. A drive wheel on one of the engines falls off. Then another. Then
the other engine fails and now I'm standing between two huge wrecks, their
diesels huffing their last breaths. And I'm hot. I'm steaming. I'm ready to
pulverize the world. I walk forward, dragging the huge chains behind me
until they're taut again. I stretch myself forward, my arms bent back until
they can't bend anymore. And then preteen model lolita ass I flex my biceps and pecs and the two
locomotives come flying off the tracks and land on the barge with all its
observers. I won't have to drag that damned thing home tonight.
I head off into the desert, looking for a mountain to beat up.Copyright 1996 by Ray Wilder. All rights reserved.
Also by Ray Wilder:

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# by rugirimiq | 2012-06-25 16:57