Date: Thu, 20 Oct 2022 20:50:12 +0000 (UTC) From: Ash Eater Subject: perfect muscle god - part 2 Don't forget donate to https://donate.nifty.org "Side Chest, Front double bicep, lat spread, most muscular" The Musclegod shouted out each pose, as he transitioned into Most Muscular the slave groaned. As each pose was called out the slave's dick twitched in its cage, from its kneeling position it felt a dribble of cum escape from the cage. It wouldn't be long before the dribble would be a puddle. After six month the slave didn't care that it hadn't wanked in that time, it didn't need to. Watching and worshipping its Musclegod Master guaranteed at least three substantive ejaculations a day. It watched as the posing continued, the Musclegod's vanity meant that all four walls and the ceiling were mirrored, wherever the slave looked he could see the greatness of its master. There was a strong desperate need to touch him but that time hadn't yet come. The Musclegod had other priorities. He had spent the last five hours posing, call out mandatory poses, smiling as he looked as his body in the mirrored walls each muscle pumped to perfection. "Please Boss" two voices said in desperate unison. Either side of the Musclegod, stood two men. In their late twenties they had foolishly convinced themselves that they had a chance of winning the previous week's competition. They had of course failed, their cockiness and arrogance had been quickly demolished by the Musclegod. By now it was accepted that if he entered a competition the Musclegod would win, and that the real competition was to try and get second. As long as that was understood any so called rival would be free to return another time. These two had stupidly challenged the Musclegod, having out of earshot or so they thought making comments about his age, and questioning why a man in his fifties was taking part in the competition. They, they told themselves were the future. Having won decisively the Muscleman's attention now turned to putting them in their place. The day after the competition they had been invited the Musclegod's private studio. Shaking their hands, and looking them firmly in the eye it was clear that it wasn't really an invite but an order. They had been in the studio for five solid days. Five days where they had undergone intense training, hours of cardio, followed by hours of posing. Supervised by the Musclegod who taunted them by using a range of heavy weights that they were forbidden to even touch. As each day went on they saw the Musclegod's mass increase as theirs quickly diminished. They had spent most of the last seven hours posing. Either alongside the Musclegod, inhaling the testosterone that surrounded him miasma like, or alone as the Musclegod relaxed in a chair watching, a cigar in his mouth and his dick in the slave's throat, his hand resting on its head Every hour or so they earned a break a break devoted to worship. The first day tis had been just verbal where they were encouraged to massage the Musclegod's ego through praise. Telling him how great he was, complimenting him on his physique and superiority, by the end of the day they were also telling him how unworthy they were, how foolish they had been to consider even competing against him. When they weren't speaking the Musclegod took great care to remind them of his power, he revelled in his vanity and arrogance. He had after all crushed them in the competition. Just looking in the mirror was all he needed to prove that he was all powerful By now the physical worship meant that they were familiar with every centimetre of muscle, since and vein. When the Musclegod lifted his arms they would dive in and breath the scent. Their cockiness had gone, replaced by weakness and a sense of worthlessness, each transition was accompanied by a feeling that any existing strength was being transferred to the Musclegod. By now they were exhausted and one of the two broke down and pleased "Please Boss can this end." A plea to stop yet when Musclegod shouted Rear LAT Spread he moved into position. Eventually Musclegod relented. He clicked his fingers , and they fell to their knees. Grunting they approached him and began to kiss is feet. "Chair" the slave brought a chair in which the Musclegod sat down. The two failed challengers grovelled before him, grunts alternating with words of praise "Perfect" "God like" "Our God " "MuscleGod" and those that cemented their own status "Unworthy to serve" "weak" "worthless" The slave was standing behind the Musclegod its hands on the chest he hoped that he would soon be able start paying attention to the whole body that he had been craving to touch all-day. His hands rested on his Master's pecs, as the slave worked the muscle he realised that his hands looked much smaller than they had just 24 hours ago. As he asked in the aura of the Musclegod's power he wondered how on earth the two men who were grunting below them even thought they were in with a chance. "Get my phone" the slave reluctantly left the Musclegod's side briefly but was soon back worshipping the chest. After a few minutes typing the Musclegod swatted the slave's hands away, and pulled his head round and spat in its face."You two get on these" The two men crawled up and attached themselves to the musclegod's nipples" :Come on Boys. Show me how sorry you are. The Musclegod pointed to the floor in-front of him. The slave got into position and slowly lowered its body kissing its Master's feet. A ritual that had taken place regularly for as long as it could remember. It felt the power of the Musclegod above him, radiating from the muscular frame. Returning to a kneeling position. The only noise that was audible was the groans from the two men who were sucking the Musclegod's nipples. "Open" the slave moved forward its mouth open. His first reward of the day some cigar ash. The Musclegod then reached and grabbed both men by their hair, pulling tier heads from his chest. He looked at one in turn and spat in their faces. "Almost over" Some footsteps indicated that they had company. Two leathermen walked in. Men the slave recognised having served them regularly when out with its Master. He greeted them by kissing their boots. "Good Afternoon Sirs" "Gentlemen , meet your new slaves" The Leathermen walked up and within second had placed a collar round the necks of both former musclemen, collar and a chain lead.. "Meet you new Master's. Now go" In a trance the two stood up and began to follow the Leathermen as they were led to their new lives. The last five days were however going to take time to erase from their minds as the Musclegod barked two commands "Abdominal and Thigh" "Most Muscular" both moved into the required positions, but as they caught their reflection it was clear they were musclemen no more. The Musclegod continued to shout out poses, only stopping when he was sure they were out of ear shot. "Just you and me lad" The Muscleman said a broad smile on his face. He did the slave some more ash,. "This body needs some care and attention lad. What are you going to do about it" He laughed as he directed some spit into the slave's waiting mouth. The Musclegod walked back the centre of the room, the slave;'s eyes fixed on the physical perfection that it was now totally devoted to. Now that there were just the two of them the Musclegod could hear the slave's mantra. Each word highlighting his power and authority. Unlike the robotic tone of the recently departed , the slave said them with sincerity. The Musclegod didn't have to be told he was perfect, or have admiring comments about his physical prowess, his good looks , his masculine superiority. He knew it. It just helped that he had a slave who was now unable to function without singing its Musclegod Master's praises. All that now mattered for the slave was the glory of the perfect Leather Man, the perfect MuscleGod, its Master. It's only reason to live was to praise. It had two types of thoughts those that were devoted to praising the Musclegod.,and those that were how he could improve the way that he served and worshipped. It watched as the Musclegod flexed his muscles. As he watched the Musclegod flex his right bicep he was taken further into a world of submission, and was totally unaware that yet another pool of cum had formed below him.