Heads up: tomorrow marks the completion of my commitment to post something on this blog every day for a year. Well, I suppose today is actually the completion of that commitment, but tomorrow is the anniversary. It’s sort of like when we refer to the years that start with 19– as the 20th century. These things always confuse me. In any case, I haven’t decided how to properly celebrate the anniversary tomorrow. Any suggestions that you might have would be appreciated.
In the mean time, the last we heard from the contenders to unseat reigning muscle god champion, SteelMuscleGod, Frenchman Yann had been ridden hard and put away wet by English bodybuilder Adam400m. The muscle god himself, SMG, then stepped in and forced some flexing from the French wannabe. SMG posed an entirely reasonable offer to the broken contender. Worship SMG’s godliness, or suffer. As reader StayPuft commented, not only is the Frenchman defeated, he’s also clearly a fool.
SMG doesn’t look surprised by Yann’s stubborn refusal to worship him. “No?” SMG asks rhetorically. “You’d rather suffer first, and then worship me? No problem.” Leaning against a nearby wall watching the scene, Adam chuckles quietly, his massive chest mounded between his arms folded in front of him.
Quickly grabbing the Frenchman by the hair on the top of his head, SMG shoves Yann’s head between his power legs. Kneeling in front of his tormentor with his head securely trapped, Yann grunts in pain as he feels SMG’s quads flex around his skull. SMG rubs the palms of his hands up and down the striated muscles in his legs as his tongue hangs out of his open mouth. “Yeah,” SMG snarls, “feel those fucking muscles!” Yann wraps his arms around his tormentor’s legs, desperately trying to pry SMG’s legs apart. “I’m going to crush your fucking skull,” SMG snarls. “Feel my power!”
A panicked whine emerges from between SMG’s flexing legs as Yann desperately taps submissively at his tormentor’s hamstrings. “Had enough of that power?” SMG chuckles. Bending forward, SMG grabs the waistband of the Frenchman’s board shorts in both hands and yanks upward. Yann rises defensively to his feet as his shorts are wedged deep between his muscled ass cheeks. Suddenly, SMG snaps his arms around the Frenchman’s waist and pulls upward, lifting the helpless man’s feet off the floor until he’s trapped suspended vertically in the air, his head still locked between SMG’s thighs.
Looking over his shoulder at Adam, SMG sneers as he bounces on the balls of his feet, forcing the air from the Frenchman’s lungs as his arms squeeze Yann’s lower abdomen. To Adam, SMG growls with contempt, “Looks like I’ve got to finish your work.” The grin across Adam’s face slowly fades to boiling fury.
Suddenly, SMG drops to his knees, driving the top of Yann’s head to the floor with a thud. As SMG releases his grip around the Frenchman’s abdomen, Yann’s knees slump to the floor. SMG climbs to his feet, looking down at Yann’s body involuntarily twitching in fits as his traumatized nervous system and muscles fire randomly. SMG hooks his foot underneath his victim’s shoulder and kicks Yann over to his back. Straddling him, SMG looks down as he flexes his biceps. “Look at me,” SMG commands the Frenchman, whose eyes remain tightly closed as pain wracks his whole body. “Look at me!!!” SMG shouts furiously, causing Yann’s eyes to snap open wide in startled fear. “Are you ready to worship your god now?”
Yann’s jaw drops open as his chest heaves up and down in breathless exhaustion and arousal. His hands reach up toward the muscled form towering over him. SMG lowers himself to his knees before sitting his powerful glutes down solidly across the Frenchman’s chest. Yann winces in pain momentarily under SMG’s weight, and then he reaches his left hand upward, alternating between caressing and squeezing SMG’s right pec adoringly. “Now it’s time for your just desserts! Who’s your Steel Muscle God?!” SMG barks down, flexing his pecs as Yann feels them. Slack jawed and glassy-eyed, Yann continues to worship SMG’s pecs with his hands.
Awed, breathless, Yann finally whispers, “You are…”