Date: Thu, 17 Mar 2011 13:23:58 -0700
From: M. D. <usmcbb@gmail.com>
Subject: Bodybuilders: Sons & Dads

[I welcome your thoughts at: usmcbb@gmail.com]

[First chapter is available on this site]

Induction

The strange marks on Kurt's belt buckle became more familiar to Andy. He
began to see the symbol, two jagged marks in perfect unison, on many of
Kurt's friends' buckles, clothing, even some tattoos.

It had been almost a year that Andy had last seen Don. The feelings were
complex. Kurt and Andy had bonded at such a level that neither could let
go. Together, Andy had chiseled down from 225 a few pounds but the
definition was enough for him to place first in the five competitions Kurt
coached him.

Andy had become absorbed in the tight bond and the constant exposure to
muscle that he kept moving forward, thinking of Don but unable to deny the
progress he was making at Kurt's hands. He knew what had happened to his
coach. Kurt had defeated him, leaving Don drained and wanting more. But
damn, Kurt knew how to keep him focused, developing an unspoken language
between the two of them that grew deeper everyday and at every repetition.

It was clear that Andy was Kurt's son. Kurt had a big hand in Andy's
hygiene, clothing, even making sure that Andy's high n' tight was
regulation; his gear was skin tight and that each morning Andy's pecs were
spit polished with a bit of oil and Kurt's cum. They had achieved total
muscle worship between father and son and for that reason, both were
content to simply keep jacking iron and being a team of two.

The roids were having affect on both of them. But every morning, Kurt would
pierce his son's skin on his neck -- thrusting the needle deeply and
forcibly into the kid's neck -- and Andy would flinch just a bit and know
that he was safe, Kurt's hand always cupping his balls in his jock.

Kurt made it understood that he expected Andy to leave the Marine Corps
after his current tour. It ended in only 3 weeks and the pressure to keep
him in the Corps was substantial by his ranking officers. But the muscle
growth was evident in Andy and it would only be a matter of time before his
officers became suspicious of roid and drug abuse. As it was, Andy's dress
blues were tailored specifically to fit his 29 quads and 50 inch chest. But
Andy's identity as a Marine was so strong that it took Kurt a few
conversations and a few promises. And Andy complied, trusting his muscle
and his dad.

"I need you tonight to be in perfect shape, Andy." Kurt smiled a half grin
as he roped his 24 inch bicep around Andy's neck. his testosterone-laden
sweat filling Andy's nostrils. "I have a special treat for ya tonight,
something that's important."

Andy nodded. He picked up his duffel bag with his gear and stooped down to
tie his Corcoran boots. Kurt ruffed up the Marine's perfect recon high n
tight.

"Hit it hard. Right n' tight today, son." Kurt flexed his bicep in front of
the kid's face and felt his cock twitch in his sweats.

"Go get 'em, champ."

*

Andy did jack iron seriously, thinking in the back of his head that Kurt
had planned something special. Chest and arms were his strength, so he
maxed them both out until he was sweating through his white tank top. He
gathered his things, shoved them into his bag and drove home, thinking he'd
take a shower and chill out with his dad.

Andy wasn't prepared for what he saw when he returned home. You'd never
know it from his stoic, Marine face. The smell of his sweat and the cigar
smoke mixed to tell Andy that he was entering into a space dominated by
men.

Standing and sitting around the table were Kurt's friends, some of whom
Andy had met at competitions. Most were Masters competitors -- some were
friends Andy had met over beer with his dad. But something was special
about this group. Eight men. Among them Andy spotted two of his superior
officers in their dress blues, their hands on their thighs, their white
lids blending with their white walls. These were hardcore Marines, one 50
years old and the other about 35. Both had placed in the All Armed Forces
Bodybuilding finals.

In the corner were three CHP highway troopers, still in their uniforms,
bent knees and hands on their buckles. In their 50s also, Andy glimpsed
spit polished Dehners and regulation blond flattops, the breeches skin
tight.  The other men stood in workout gear, Under Armour, some in power
lifter singlets and white tanks, just like Andy's.

And all men were staring at Andy, caught in mid conversation, they all
nodded and motioned for Andy to come and join them.

"Son, I want you to meet my buddies," Kurt grasped Andy's shoulder and
guided him into the semicircle of men. Most were smiling at him, some had a
stern but welcoming look on their faces. Andy felt safe but a little
confused.

"These, son," Kurt continued, "are my muscle brothers."  Kurt introduced
each one to Andy which produced a strong, powerful handshake from each man
at the mention of their name.

"Each of these men are true brothers, son. Everyone of these men has become
a true bodybuilder in his life and each is committed to seeing new men join
them on that journey." Kurt squeezed Andy's shoulder tightly. Kurt's voice
was more serious than most times. Andy looked around and saw most of the
men flex slightly and adjust their jocks.

Kurt further explained: "Each of these men have committed to bring the
power of muscle to the next generation to keep the brotherhood alive." Andy
could feel the power of these men increase, most were flexing their pecs,
pawing their bulges.

"These men are more than my brothers, son. They have each dedicated
themselves to you as well – as my son. If anything should happen to me,
they will treat you as their own son. If you need to grow more, to feel
true muscle power deeper than I can provide, these men will teach you as
their son. If you desire more muscle than I can offer, you are to turn to
these men and no others."

Andy nodded and could feel a warmth build in his chest.

"You are not to go outside this brotherhood, son, for any instruction or
need. Everything you require can be found among these men." Kurt paused a
moment. "They respect our relationship."

Andy could feel the sweat on his chest soaking through the white tank. His
USMC PT shorts clung tightly to his smooth, hairless quads. The white band
of his jock lie taught against the base of his abs and waist. He stood
firmly, his Corcoran jump boots planted squarely shoulder width as he felt
the comfort of his dad's arm around his shoulder.

"This brotherhood is made up of men who want to see you grow into the
bodybuilder you are destined to be. Since they are dedicated to you, you
must show them how dedicated you are to them, show them the hard work we
have accomplished together."

Kurt stepped away from Andy, leaving him standing in front of the eight men
who had formed an informal semicircle around him.

"Go ahead son, show them what you have achieved. Show them your
muscle. Show them the pride of a young bodybuilder." Kurt joined the men
and stared intently.

Andy stood stock still for a moment, trying to understand why his entire
body was flexing, slowly. He felt an unfamiliar sensation of becoming both
weak and stronger at the same time. He knew what to do.

Andy glanced around the room with intent. He wasn't nervous now, he wanted
to see these men in closer detail. No one spoke.

The three CHP Officers were against the far wall, now standing erect. They
looked similar, clean shaven men in their fifties but built. Definitely
bodybuilders Andy vaguely remembered seeing. The taller one had tucked his
thumb under his duty belt, framing the buckle that had the same design of
Kurt's: two jagged marks next to each other. The cops fingers were moving
slowly over the skin tight breeches material. The other two stood close to
each other, younger, their biceps filled their sleeves fully, their
baseball peaks stretching the cuff of the shirt tightly. Andy could see
that one of the cop's spit polished Dehners was placed between the
other's. Both men had quads big enough to bend the stripe on their breeches
to accommodate the flexed muscle.

Sitting back behind the table were the two Marines that Andy had seen on
base but had no contact with – both officers. Andy had always seen them
together in the gym and knew they were training partners. The older Marine
had his arm on the back of the couch, his hands slowly grazing the other's
neck. Andy knew that they had both custom fitted their dress blues since he
himself had had it done to accommodate his build. But even through the
heavy wool of their uniforms, Andy could tell that they had ripped, hard
muscle by the way the tunic flared at the top and came to a tapered "V" at
the white belt. They had hiked up the legs of the uniform slightly so that
they could sit comfortably and Andy fixated on the curve of the Blood
Stripe running down each man's leg. The stripes became one stripe when Andy
realized that their legs were pressed against each other. Tightly. On each
Marine's hand was a heavy silver ring that Andy couldn't place as a USMC
signet ring.

Andy scanned left across the room to a man he knew to be one of Kurt's
fellow NPC judges. Dressed in what was obviously an expensive – and
custom tailored – suit, he stood with his hands behind his back, chest
out. Andy could see him flex his pecs up and down by watching the shadow of
the tank top he wore underneath the white shirt. Close cropped blond hair,
his waist was tight enough that the suit pants hung as if draped on a
mannequin. They were cinched by a small but similar buckle to Kurt's. The
man smiled at Kurt as he cast his eyes to the left of the judge.

Andy's eye was immediately drawn to the two men wearing white wrestling
singlets – specifically the emblazoned image on the front. It was dark
blue to match the double stripe on the sides of the wrestling singlet –
and it stood out prominently as the two flexed their hairless, massive 52"
chests. The emblem resembled the others he saw but was more complex with
what looked like an eagle clutching arrows. The two men looked far younger
than their age. And they looked very similar. Smooth, perfect blond high n
tight recons and blue eyes. Their square jaws jutted forth, Andy felt an
immediate connection to another wrestler. The tight material of the singlet
stretched over their shelf pecs, then down over eight packs only to widen
again over the stone solid quads. It was clear to Andy that both were not
wearing a jock, the bulges pressing against the material, small wet circles
where the head of their cocks rested.

Andy felt calm as he took of his tank top, releasing the scent of his
workout to the room. He stepped out of his boots and stripped off his
shorts leaving him in his jock. He was unsure whether he should get nude
since all the men were still in their uniforms, so he thought it best to
leave on the jock. He felt comfortable wearing on a jock with these men.

Kurt stepped behind Andy, closely and easily, without more than a slight
motion, poured oil on his left pec and began to massage it into his
hairless skin. His left hand pulled Andy's chin back, making his head rest
against Kurt's pecs. Silence. Kurt worked the oil over Andy's body as he
had done dozens of times, knowing how to manipulate his son's muscular body
so that the oil coated every inch of his son, accentuating the ridges
between muscles; highlighting the veins and scale of each part of his young
body.

As Kurt ran his fingers across Andy's lower abdomen he let his finger trace
the jock's band, sliding his index finger underneath the tight
material. His left hand massaged his son's leg upward towards his balls
where he simply held his hand against them, letting the heat of Andy's body
flow into his hand. Kurt whispered into his ear "make me proud son, make us
all proud." With that, Kurt pushed Andy's head forward and stepped back
within arm's length. "Show them what we've done, son."

The group of men were tightly focused on this easy interaction between
father and son. They had each been through many muscle worship session, but
there was a focus and dedication to what was transpiring that they felt a
true bond amongst them, more so than at other events.

Kurt began speaking loudly and directly to his son "Routine 1: double
bicep," Kurt's bark immediately snapped Andy's arms outward and slowly,
Andy flexed his 22" pipes, the baseball peaks jumped upward.

"Crab," Kurt barked. Leaning forward, Andy tensed his back and flexed his
traps and biceps forward.

"Quads," the businessman demanded. Andy simply followed the instructions
like a good Marine bodybuilder, thinking only of how his body was
responding, how good it felt to be ordered to perform.

"Let's see the abs, son." The taller cop said quietly. Andy lifted his arms
over his head and tightened his eight pack so that even the jock's elastic
band became a bit slack. His hairless armpits glistened with sweat and oil,
releasing a sweet odor of young muscle into the air breathed by the group
of men.

Andy could smell the cop approach, the cigar smell and the sound of his
polished Dehners on the floor. But Andy couldn't stop posing. It felt too
good. The CHP Officer stood directly in front of him and with a nod from
Kurt, reached out his leather glove to slowly stroke Andy's abs. Andy could
hear he grunt of the cop and several other men made noise. He opened his
eyes and focused. The cop was squarely in his face, but looking down as his
gloved hand caressed Andy's tight abs.

The two Marine Officers now had their left arms around the shoulder of the
other. Each was stroking the cock of the other through their dress
blues. The businessman had undone his tie and placed his left hand into his
shirt where he was flexing his pecs under the white tank top. The wrestlers
stood at attention, their bulges becoming more pronounced as their precum
flowed into the fabric of their singlet.

The cop spat heavily into his hand and massaged Andy's cock in his jock,
slowly but with force. Satisfied that he had gotten the young bodybuilder
hard, he walked over to one of the wrestlers and stood next to him,
stroking the wrestler's bulge lightly with his fingertips.

The mood in the room had decidedly changed. Even the odor changed. The mix
of testosterone and sweat and pure muscle was an intoxicant to the men, to
Andy, to Kurt. Andy could hear Kurt breathing heavily behind him; the slow
deep type of breathing he heard when they lifted together. Continuing to
flex, now out of rote memory, Andy saw the two Marines begin to stroke each
other through their uniforms. Like all Marines, they were brothers and did
what every Marine does: help his buddy out. The younger Marine's head was
held in a tight grip on the back of the neck – a feeling Andy knew well.

Andy continue to flex, pushing his muscles further than he had before as
the assembly of older, master bodybuilders watched. Sweat ran down his face
and with each flex, he grew more determined to show how committed to muscle
and bodybuilding he was to this collection of men.

The other wrestler, standing as stoically as his twin moaned slightly when
both remaining cops flanked him on other side and flexed their peaked
biceps in his face, ordering him to lick them.

Kurt stood back, during all this. The precum moistening his jock as it got
hard. This was Andy's moment and he was determined to let him explore it
without intervening.

A loud moan hit Andy's left ear. He turned to see the businessman and NPC
judge expertly stroke the wrestler off in his singlet as if he's done it a
million times before. The wrestler tried to stand erect but had to lean up
against the wall. Both men's eyes were trained on Andy.

The two cops had stripped off their uniform shirts reveling tight, navy
blue Under Amour shirts outlining the mass of their pecs. "They must be
competitive," Andy thought as he hit another double bicep.  The two
muscular cops stood in front of the wrestler, having forced him to his
knees. They unzipped their breeches' fly and reached for each other's
cocks, holding each as they would their pistol. Simultaneously, they each
began a river of piss down the wrestler's forehead and chest. The wrestler
opened his mouth as the urine ran down the singlet making it tighter than
it was before, now showing off an incredible set of abs.

The flexing was taking its toll on Andy. He wanted to continue but the
strain on his body was coming close to exhaustion. He hit one more quad
flex. And he watched as the younger Marine officer got down on his knees in
between the other officer's legs who was stroking furiously. The younger
Marine took off his white lid and Andy watched as ropes of Marine Corps cum
streaked the younger officer's whitewalls and high n tight. The older
Marine shouted a muffled "oorah," a sound Andy knew meant that he had
cum. Other grunts and moans surrounded him as the men came each sound a
guttural moan that only bodybuilders know.

Kurt new it was time. He approached Andy and stood in front of him. Through
heavy breath Andy stood at attention. The sweat was running down his chest
and abs, mixing with the posing oil. He was shaking from the exertion and
Kurt placed his hands on Andy's shoulders to steady him.

"You've waited long enough son. You deserve this."

Kurt slowly took the band of Andy's wet jock and placed it under his shaved
balls, pushing them up and high. With one hand on the base of his neck,
Kurt wrapped his hand around Andy's cock and slowly, deftly stroked his
son's cock.

It took less than two strokes for Andy to shoot ropes of cum upward over
his head, onto his chest and neck. To Kurt, he would say that his son had
passed out if it weren't for the steady pumping of his chest, gasping for
air.

Kurt nodded to the men, now mostly recovered from their own muscle
ejaculations.

Each one approached Andy, now collapsed in a kneeling position, his cum
covering his head and neck and chest.

The two Marines approached first with the authority that they knew would
render Andy compliant. Each reached down, ran their finger over their own
cum and placed the finger in Andy's mouth. Kurt stroked Andy's neck
aggressively, forcing him to swallow. Each Marine then took a finger and
swiped cum off Andy's chest and swallowed it.

The two cops presented the wrestler they had pissed on and held Andy's head
to the singlet. Andy sucked the material and tasted the cop's urine. Each
cop then wiped a small bit of cum and fed it to Andy. Then they took a
sample of Andy's cum and swallowed.

The judge and the cop did the same, exchanging their cum with the young
bodybuilder.

Exhausted, Andy looked up at his dad and expected the same
exchange. Instead, Kurt stood solidly and placed his arms under his son's
armpits to raise him to a standing position. Andy was weak and shaky, so
Kurt supported him and said so that all could hear: "Son, are you ready to
join us?"

Andy nodded.

The men downstairs gathered their gear and quietly left the two to
bond. They new the next few hours would take Andy from a young Marine
bodybuilder to one of their members.

*

Andy's efforts in the gym were tripled. He knew that he would soon leave
the Corps and had final business to tend to, but he began split training
with Kurt, lifting with his dad in the garage at 3AM and then again at
6PM. Andy was becoming a specimen. After each injection from Kurt, his
drive to build more muscle redoubled. And Kurt couldn't be happier to help
his son reach even further for new goals.

Theirs was a shared life and home. Andy was big enough to begin wearing
Kurt's clothing when off base and both thought it to be the natural thing
to do, becoming one in body and one in spirit. Kurt's efforts to transform
Andy into his own image was nearing completion. And he knew that soon, Andy
would fulfill his destiny. Both their destinies.

*

The day arrived for Andy's last day of service in the Corps. Kurt was
concerned that the event might distract him from his goal. Andy had become
a specimen of male beauty. Not only to women, but to men. His tanned skin
and perfect high n tight framed a squared jaw. The blue eyes burned
brightly. If those who saw only knew the level of drugs flowing through his
body. Kurt spiked him every morning. They both knew the dangerous of long
term use and Kurt was careful to monitor the dosage. But today was special
and Kurt was going to take Andy to a new level of muscle that no one but
him had ever been.

Kurt sat patiently at the ceremony in his best suit. Proud of his
son. Andy's dress blues were as tight, as they should be. He was wearing
Kurt's dress blues now as a sign of respect for his dad. He was growing
that quickly. Kurt knew his place at these ceremonies. Supportive dad. Kurt
saw the two officers, Mark and Troy, from the night before sitting next to
each other, a knowing smile on their lips when they occasionally glanced at
Kurt and then back to Andy.

Kurt made sure that Mark and Troy stood with him as brothers as Andy
finally said goodbye to the Corps. Instead of saying goodbye to a fellow
Marine, both the men put their massive arms around telling him that if he
ever needed a right n tight flattop, that they were the men to see. Then
they leaned into Andy and spoke quietly, saying "welcome to the
Brotherhood, Andy."

Kurt could not be prouder, both of how Andy was dealing with the separation
from one brotherhood and accepting another. A much more suitable
brotherhood, Kurt thought.

It was out of respect and expected that Kurt invite Mark and Troy back to
the house to celebrate Andy's becoming a civilian again. They were, of
course, all Marine brothers.

"Brothers, would be honored to sit with you in uniform, but my son is
wearing mine now," Kurt explained. He placed a bottle of 25 year old scotch
on the table and four glasses. "Be back in a minute in more suitable
attire." Kurt walked purposefully, slowly up the stairs to his bedroom.

Mark, the older of the two fellow Marines glanced down and then spoke
softly. "you know your dad couldn't be prouder of you, son." Troy, the
younger Marine placed his white gloved hand on Andy's leg and squeezed
tight. "We're all proud of you. Proud that you're joining us." Andy
tightened his quad reflexively.

Mark poured them all a finger of scotch, waiting for Kurt to return. They
knew they were about to witness something very few men have. Mark pushed
his chair back on a lean and put his arms around Troy's and Andy's
shoulders. His cock was visibly hard down his trouser leg. A soft smile on
his face.

The three were talking about the Corps, staring at the scotch in their
glass and each other when Kurt appeared. He nodded at Mark and Troy who
smiled, knowing what was about to happen. Andy was the last to turn to see
his dad in a uniform he had never seen before.

The jet black color of the uniform immediately drew Andy's eyes to Kurt's
physique. The silhouette was formidable. Squared shoulders tapering to a
perfect "V". The black lid had a visor as shiny as Andy had seen.

Andy gazed with his mouth open as he took in the uniform.

Mark and Troy sat back, their white gloves slowly stroking each others cock
in their dress blues.

Kurt stood, all 250 lbs. Of muscle at parade rest. Staring directly into
Andy's eyes. The upright collar had that emblem, that emblem that Andy
couldn't discern before but saw on all the men of the brotherhood.  Two
lightning bolts in silver set against the black of the collar. Andy
followed the cut of the tunic downward. A simple red ribbon tucked into the
third button.

Kurt's 30" quads were contained within black wool breeches, stretched to
their limit. Pure, powerful and present. Kurt continued to stare at Andy.

Kurt drew Andy's eyes downward to the taught bulge in his trousers then
further down. Spit polished – no, better than spit polished – boots
perfectly cupped Kurt's diamond calves.

Andy glanced away then at his Marine brothers. Then back, directly into his
dad's eyes. Kurt had taken his lid off to reveal a freshly shaven high n
tight of blond hair. He continued standing at parade rest, his chest thrust
forward and a half smile on his face now.

"Those symbols, those lightning bolts, I've seen them before." Andy quickly
scanned his memory: the rings, belt buckles, singlets, even the tattoos,
they all looked identical.

The three men nodded their head. Mark and Troy began to rub their left pec.

"They're called 'runes,' son." Kurt stared intently into his son's
eyes. The uniform was tight on Kurt, so as he raised his arms, it pushed
the sleeve material into a fully muscular shape, showing the massive biceps
underneath. Kurt took two fingers and ran them across the symbols.

"They are worn by warriors, son, like you. Worn by those who worship
masculinity; drink of testosterone and power, they are worn only by men who
achieved the perfect state that bonding between muscle can produce." Kurt
stood unmoving, his cock pressing tightly against the material of his
breeches. The wool touching his cock with electricity.

"These runes, son," Kurt continued, "are not given easily son. They are
worn only by members of the brotherhood. This uniform, son, is only worn by
members of the brotherhood."

Andy's stare was broken by the sound of a brass belt hitting the side of
the chair. He quickly glanced to his left and saw Mark, his tunic
unbuttoned and unbelted, his shirt open and his hand caressing his 50"
pecs, caressing a large tattoo of "88" in block, bold numbers. Mark gazed
back and slowly ran his white gloved hand over the tattoo. Troy nodded as
he began to unbutton his shirt.

"Son, I want you to truly understand how powerful this brotherhood is, how
powerful muscle is, how powerful our bond is, forever."

"Son, I asked Mark and Troy here for a reason. I want them to help you make
a transition from what you thought was a brotherhood to the only true
brotherhood."

Kurt took a syringe from his pocket. Mark and Troy both shed their tunic
and took off their duty shirts. Andy stared straight-on. Kurt stared into
Andy's eyes from above as he plunged the syringe into his neck, deep blue
eyes staring into each other, their identities meshing.

"Son, this is a special shot. There's no going back after this." Kurt held
the syringe carefully in his gloved hand.

Andy glanced at Mark and Troy. With the grace and power that only two
bodybuilder Marines can affect, Mark turned his head and kissed Troy, hard
and with meaning. Troy moaned. Mark's hand stroked Troy's chest tattoo
carefully, twisting his nipple further as the Marine absorbed the kiss.

Kurt reiterated: "Son, this is a strong juice shot." Andy nodded. Mark and
Troy paid attention as the needle plunged into Andy' neck. Mark stroked the
runes on Troy's neck and whispered, "that's it, son."

Andy didn't feel much beyond what he was accustomed to each morning. He
flexed his body as his dad taught him to let the juice flow freely through
his muscles.

Troy and Mark now stood in front of Andy, their dress blue pants taught by
their cocks hard pressing against their legs. Bare chested, they flexed in
front of Andy. Perfect Marine bodybuilders. Both Mark and Troy stood
solidly at parade rest in front of Andy. Naturally, slowly and with an ease
grace, Mark flexed his right arm, the striated bicep was more mass than
definition. He held the rock hard bicep in front of Troy who dutifully
began to lick the USMC Globe & Anchor tattoo on Mark's bicep. Troy stroked
his own pec where his own EG&A sat directly opposite the large rune tattoo.

They each reached down and began to unbutton Andy's dress blues. As fellow
Marines, they knew how to treat the uniform with respect so that Andy felt
the true weight of a brother taking care of another brother.

Andy felt a strong urge to relax, to let his muscles relax, to let his
brothers take care of him. Kurt stood over Andy, allowing his transition
from Marine to brother begin, gently and with meaning as a father only
knows.

Mark and Troy knew how to strip a Marine of his uniform. They had done so
many times – and a lot of young Marines understood it as a rite of
passage. Mark had administered a roid shot to Troy earlier and the two were
jacked on juice and alcohol. They were committed to watching what would
happen next.

Andy had become relaxed, or more accurately, not jacked up; calm. The shot
had him feeling out of sorts but he noticed that even relaxed, his body was
sculpted muscle. In the chair, Mark and Troy finished folding his dress
blue tunic and shirt over a chair, leaving Andy wearing his trousers, his
cock pressing hard against the material. Mark stroked the spot where the
needle entered Andy's neck and spat on his hand and rubbed the quickly
vanishing mark.

Kurt took notice and nodded.

Troy stood as a sentry while Mark's white glove ran down Andy's perfect
abs, stroking them softly. Andy stared at the older Marine, stared at the
blond high n tight, the mass of his shoulders and biceps. Mark let his
fingers linger over Andy's brass buckle that had an EG&A emblem on it and
began to slowly stroke the buckle, noticing that the young Marine was
moaning quietly. Any Marine dad would be proud of how this bodybuilder was
becoming a man and Kurt, Mark, all the brothers were there to guide him.

Mark's white gloved index finger hooked under Andy's belt and tugged. Even
in his relaxed state, Andy flexed his abs out of habit, the rock hard abs
tapering into a perfect "V" that continued down to his pelvis. He felt safe
with Mark, safe with an older Marine. His stiff cock in the dress blue
trouser wool began to leak precum, wetting his white boxers underneath.

"Andy, it's time to show your respect and love for the Corps one last
time." Kurt kept his hand hooked under Andy's belt and then placed his
other white gloved hand on the shaved back of Andy's high n tight, his
thumb stroking Andy's whitewalls. A soft moan escaped Andy's throat. Mark
knew that every Marine responded to this. They loved their whitewalls
stroked and without fail, a young Marine would get hard and do what he was
told. It was their obedient masculinity coming to the surface.

From his seated position, Mark drew Andy's head closer, his hand now
guiding Andy's head forward. Andy's eyes now directly staring into Mark's
USMC EG&A belt buckle.

"Go ahead, son," Mark pressed the buckle forward, his cock now straining
the dress blue trousers at a right angle, making the blood stripe visible
from the front. Without thinking, Andy licked the buckle gently, allowing
his tongue to feel every detail of the raised brass emblem he had come to
see as his previous father, trainer and brotherhood.

"I want you to show the love you had for the Corps, son," Mark
whispered. Andy's head, guided by Mark's white glove, tilted towards the
side. Andy licked and kissed the blood stripe, the blood stripe worn by him
as well and the most powerful symbol of being a true Marine.

"Now show me how much you love the Corps, son." Mark brought Andy's head
closer to his trouser. Andy took in the smell the years of sweat, cum and
testosterone and leaned forward. His tongue licked the outline of Mark's
cock in his trousers. He licked and mouthed the essence of a Marine,
worshiping his cock, uniform and the Corps all at once.

Mark held Andy's head closer and tightly. He tilted his head forward and
whispered: "Son, that's it. Make your Marine brother cum in his
uniform. Damn, perfect Marine bodybuilder blowing another Marine. Keep
going, son."

Mark's pelvis began thrusting uncontrollably. The rough fabric rubbing his
cock while the wet, warm sensation of Andy's mouth brought him closer and
closer to cumming.

Andy could taste Mark's cum, loaded with testosterone and muscle and
sweat. He could feel Mark's cock contract and violently shoot inside his
dress blues, slowly soaking the navy blue fabric and the upper part of his
blood stripe.

Mark breathed heavily, holding Andy's head tightly against his cock. Kurt
stepped from behind and placed his leather gloves on Andy's neck and
squeezed and stroked in rhythm. He knew the young Marine would
instinctively swallow. And he did, pulling the cum from Mark's uniform.

*

Andy had always known the feeling of how his body moved. An all-state
wrestler; the most intense lifer at the gym. For him, it was all or
nothing. But he had always wished that he could have a buddy in these
solitary sports. He knew coach's saw his potential from an early age. He
also knew from their glances that he was genetically gifted.

His wrestling coach was a married lifter, a real man and role model for
Andy. Sometimes, Andy remembered Don when he was in a pensive mood. He had
to admit that he missed him. Coach Don would invite him back to his house
after a match to watch the video tape and critique his performance. Andy,
still in his gear would sit attentively by Don's side watching the video
intently and then his coach's face.

As Andy let the drugs take control, he slowly fell into a state where he
could really access the memories stored in his mind. The memories that were
suppressed by so many years of obedience to the sport, the Corps, to being
a dedicated muscle head.

The shot that Kurt had given him made him awake and in a stupor at the same
time.  As his mind uncoiled, he remembered how Coach Don would make him
feel when he looked at him. Andy loved the smell of Coach's garage gym. A
man's space, very simple plates and a ragged bench stained with sweat, the
padding falling out. The walls were covered in a haphazard patchwork of the
major bodybuilders that Coach admired. Andy didn't know most of them, so
Coach would sit with Andy, sweating on the bench and explain why they were
important to the sport. One pro bodybuilder was Coach Don's favorite,
telling from the fact that they were framed and set apart from the rest.
It was Matarazzo in his glory days, perfect flattop and a big grin as he
flexed what to Andy were inhuman arms.

Coach taught him how to make the best use of a spartan set of weights and
how to build his muscle. Laying the foundation when a young bodybuilder
begins his quest is tougher than most young men can handle. Andy stuck to
it and more, slowly moving from working out to please Coach to beginning to
understand what

These were the most intense workouts his young body could bear. Now, he can
also remember that Coach would spend extra time after these workouts with
him. How they would talk about wrestling, the upcoming matches, the other
competing wrestlers. They would talk about bodybuilding and Coach knew Andy
was interested from how his face would scrunch up and analyze in great
detail how each pro was built. Coach, too, was interested since he had
competed a few years back. He didn't place but was serious about the sport
– a sport many people thought was only a narcissistic display – a
sport many people didn't understand.

Coach did understand and helped Andy understand what was his goal. Coach
knew from the first day of wrestling try outs that Andy knew about this
deep within his gut. So he spent extra time with the boy. Lifting, shooting
the shit in his office, talking about he felt about girls, studies, his
folks.

Andy couldn't see from that point what it meant, but it felt good. And warm
and offered him what he couldn't find elsewhere in his head.

The first time was natural. Sitting next to coach on the couch at his home
was natural. Lifting in his garage was natural. Just two muscle heads
hanging after a hardcore lifting session. The smell was of clean, pure
sweat. Finally both their heartbeats slowed. Coach put in a videotape. Andy
thought it was another match to be critiqued. But it was shot at Coach's
last competition.

Andy stared as he would at a muscle magazine. He had no words, but he was
impressed and that moment burned into his brain. That man on stage, that
Masters Bodybuilder placed his hand on Andy's leg and whispered "son" into
his ear.

*

"Son. Son!" Andy broke free from his thoughts. Kurt was shaking him. A
concerned look on his face. "You need some rest, come with me." Kurt led
him upstairs. He laid Andy Kurt knew the dangers of going too fast with
bodybuilding. The urge was rooted in an intense need. Kurt felt it too. But
now, he simply caressed his son, his young bodybuilder, his Marine on his
first night being a citizen. Kurt knew this was a lot of information to
process, so he let his son sleep, curled in his arms and Kurt lie next to
him as his guardian, his sentry, his father.

*

0300: Lift with dad 0435: Shave shower shit shave again 0500: Dress
and... wait. Dress in... what?

Andy shot Kurt a profoundly confused look. His first day out of the Corps
and this tough Marine didn't know how to dress himself. He kept searching
for his uniform like a dawg looking for a bone. It was always on a hanger
on the back of the chair by his bed but now there was no chair and there
was no uniform.

"I know son," Kurt had an upside down smile. It was the first time he saw a
pout on Andy's face. He was amused but trying to be compassionate but the
humor of the situation made him want to laugh.

"Here." Kurt tossed a pile of clothes at Andy, hitting him in the
head. Kurt chuckled and went downstairs to wake up the day.

Andy felt a bit hungover, but his body felt amazing. The slow ache of an
epic workout but without the pain or soreness. He stood, naked, in front of
the mirror and just flexed his body. Just a young jock checking himself
out. Seeing where he could improve.

Downstairs he heard Kurt on the phone and then the doorbell at the same
time. The voices were muffled so he couldn't make out what it was all about
but he knew it was cool.

All black. The heap of clothes were all black, but Andy knew they were
workout gear but more formal. More like clothing, not gym sweats. He picked
through the pile.

The shirt looked too small but Andy pulled it on. The feel flashed images
of pulling on a singlet. It felt good. Better than good.

They looked like running tights, but when Andy pulled on the pants, he felt
them cling to his body. Not tights, they were tailored with a gold stripe
which conformed to his quads. Too tight for a jock.

The big thump he heard when Kurt threw this pile at him was a short-waisted
leather jacket. Andy tried it on. Not bad. He flexed his right bicep. Yup,
damn.

The sounds from downstairs grew louder and he thought, "What the hell are
they doing here so early?" He wanted to go downstairs to check it out but
he was barefoot. Good Marine, he scanned and...

The cloth and polish were still by the side. The boots were
Dehners. Bal-laced. Andy pulled the wood stiffeners out carefully. Inside
there was a note.

"For my son. Dad."

Anxious, Kurt's son pulled them on. Then he checked himself in the
mirror. Here is what he saw:

A bodybuilder A Marine The cuts of his abs through the Under Armour.  The
stripe on his leg moving as he flexed it.

And then. The runes on his collar, his sleeve, the embossed runes on the
top of his jackboots.

*

Kurt was shooting the shit with his brothers. Cole and Tucker sat easily at
the kitchen table, just after their night shift. Cole was Kurt's best buddy
from a competition back ten years. They knew each other very well. Cole
smiled when he jacked Kurt behind a curtain in the pump room, and made him
really understand muscle worship.

Tucker was a bad boy gone good. Tat'd and proud, cocky, arrogant but Kurt
knew him as a softie. First guy to turn to when in trouble. Cole and
Tucker's boots touched underneath the table. Their CHP uniforms were tight
and Kurt could smell the grit and sweat from their shift. He liked it and
he knew they were the perfect men to understand what Andy was about to
experience.

"OK boys, let's do this." Kurt stood. A marked shift took air. Cole stood
and tucked his shirt tight under his duty belt. Tucker unbuttoned his shirt
to show his sweat soaked white t shirt. Both rolled up their sleeves. Kurt
took off his tank top leaving him with his cut off USMC sweats and
Corcorans. They nodded, went upstairs and began to complete Andy's
induction.

Cole and Tucker took charge hard. Walking through the door almost shoulder
to shoulder they were a wall of CHP Trooper muscle. The three of them stood
just inside the door. Arms folded, their biceps stood out more than usual.

"Well, damn Andy, looks like you're ready, son!" Cole nodded his head and
stripped off his shirt. Tucker followed. Both men stood bare chested, their
tight breeches bulging.  Kurt stood behind them and grunted.

The three men stood, arm crossed and thrusting their chests out so that the
matching runes on their right pecs were stretched as their muscles flexed.

Andy snapped to attention out of Corps reflex.

Cole and Tucker circled him with a sneer on their lips.

"Damn nice uniform, son. Your dad get that for you? Huh?" Cole was behind
him. Andy nodded.

"I ASKED YOU A QUESTION MUSCLE BOY!" Cole screamed into his ear, his face
inches from Andy's ear. His Corps training allowed him to not flinch, stare
straight ahead and bark "SIR! YES SIR!" Andy was standing erect, the
uniform tight on his body letting his muscular build show. The tight
breeches showed a burgeoning hard on. Andy caught a quick glimpse of the
two large runes on each man's pec again.

"That's better, son." Tucker got in his face directly, inches from his face
and raised a leather duty glove to his fresh blond high n tight and roughed
it up hard. He spoke lowly, "Little Marine muscle boy sure is looking
pretty this morning." Both Cole and Tucker ran their gloved hands on Andy's
whitewalls. They knew what the response was and they wanted Andy to get
hard so they could continue. Andy respond automatically; his cock pressed
against the sleek material.

"You a daddy's boy huh? You like that Marine?" Andy tried not to moan so
instead just swallowed hard. Sweat began to be absorbed by his uniform. He
was getting nervous. The menacing tone wasn't expected and he began to get
confused. He broke his gaze and scanned the room for Kurt. He was no longer
in the room.

Quickly, Cole wrapped his 22" bicep around Andy's neck and snapped it back,
securing Andy in a sleeper hold. Tucker shoved a leather finger into his
mouth, forcing Andy to gasped for air. Bent backward, both men kicked their
Dehners into Andy's throwing him off balance and held up by Cole's lock on
his neck.

Andy was immobilized. Cole and Tucker now leaned forward, watching Andy's
darting eyes and breathed heavily towards his face. The scent of pure cop
testosterone, their sweat from their beat and the site of competitive
muscle began to work on Andy. The precum had started to soak through the
breeches he was wearing, making the material even slicker. Tucker knew what
do. Being a wrestler himself, he placed a finger where the wet spot as on
the material and rubbed Andy's head through the material very
lightly. "Like that, jock? Huh, just like coach used to do for ya?" Tucker
was smiling but fuck, he did know how it felt when coach would rub his cock
through his singlet, the cum becoming a lubricant. Only wrestlers knew this
feeling. No one talked about it but it made every wrestler beg for
more. Andy let out a moan.

Tucker was now brushing his own aching cock bulge against Andy.  Cole
started to rustle around in his police breech pocket.

"Time for your go pills, Marine." Cole spoke authoritatively, without
cynicism or mocking him. He knew this was serious and the last step in his
induction.

Andy knew what go pills were. He never flew in the Corps, but his buds
did. On long missions, the jet jocks would be ordered to take two orange
pills every four hours – speed basically to keep them awake. The only
problem with them was how they reacted with certain others chemicals,
specifically those in muscle building supplements and in particular,
steroids. Most Marines were taking steroids, a conveniently overlooked fact
as was the human growth hormone fed to them in their food at each mess. The
Corps liked their men pumped, jacked and obedient. But the stories coming
back from jet jocks recently caused some eyebrows to raise. Immediate
hard-ons that would last for hours. After an hour or so, the Marines
couldn't take it anymore and would jack off to relieve the erection. Mid
flight the radios would go silent with moans coming in waves. Flight suits
were discretely washed every every flight.

"Be a good Marine muscle jock. Swallow!" Cole dropped the pills in Andy's
mouth. Seeing him gag, Tucker raised a leather glove and stroked his throat
so the young bodybuilder had no choice to swallow.

"I give him a minute maybe, two," Cole said as he put his arm around
Tucker's shoulders and walked towards the mirrored wall in the room. "Naw,
think it'll be faster than that," Tucker replied. "Plus, I think we can
help him out a bit."

Andy stood still, not knowing what to do with himself. His heart began
racing and his muscles were stiffening as if in a flex but without the
control. The Under Armour material of his black uniform kept his cock in
place, but it was getting hard, fast. The precum stain now was
spreading. Andy so wanted Tucker to come back and give him that feeling of
getting rubbed in his singlet again. The pills were taking effect. Andy's
head was hot and the sweat was forming on his brow. His cock felt full and
aching. He turned to watch Cole and Tucker in front of the mirror. Cole's
arm still around Tucker, the two flexed hard, admiring each other with slow
strokes of their gloves over each other's pecs, stopping for a moment on
the runes to punch hard.

Andy just watched, mesmerized by the two bodybuilders exploring each others
bodies, fusing their uniform with their muscle, admiring themselves and
each other. Their love for each other's muscle was their true love. Andy
stared, his cock now fully erect in his uniform as Troy went down one knew,
opened Cole's breeches at the belt and blew him. Andy understood right then
what muscle sex and worship and the brotherhood meant.

Andy's cock pulsed in his breeches. He had never been this hard and he
didn't care that his precum was now soaking the front of his uniform. He
wanted to feel coach's hand on his singlet, his dad, he wanted Don and Kurt
and his head was spinning from the drug. He reached down to touch his cock
but a strong, steady leather glove grabbed his wrist.

"Not yet, son." Kurt stood beside him. His full black uniform now taught
against his swollen muscle, his leather jacket now discarded, Andy could
see every delineation of Kurt's body.

Kurt reached into his chest pocket and presented a small medal made of
sterling silver, the ridges in it dirty from the years it had been worn.

"Son, these are yours. From me to my son." Andy stared at the two
intertwined runes and believed. He wanted that pin, he had that pin to
symbolize his brotherhood and love and sex and muscle bond with Kurt.

Kurt held Andy's chin up and smiled into his blue eyes. "Relax, son." And
Andy did and was fulfilled as the pin on the back of the medal was punched
into his pec. Kurt leaned forward and licked the runes on Andy's collar,
then down to his chest and licked the medal and small trickle of blood from
underneath.

Kurt continued moving his mouth down Andy's abs, the skin tight material
smelling of sweat and muscle and precum. He continued down and then, looked
up. "I've never done this for any other man, son."

Kurt passed his hand over Andy's erection through the material. Andy placed
his hand on the back of Kurt's blond high n tight. Kurt drew down Andy's
waistband, placed his cock in his mouth and swallowed his young son's cum
deeply and greedily.

"That connects us to every bodybuilder, every brother, past present and
future."