Feats Of Strength by Ray Wilder Ray Wild@aol.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 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 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 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 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 persuasion.
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 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 persuasion.
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 insufficient.
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 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 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 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 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 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 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: Cory