Earning a Shot, Finale

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…”

Earning a Shot, continued

I’m not trying to start anything here, but I have to note that SteelMuscleGod has been silent on his video posts with Adam400m posting twice in the past few weeks, looking more massive, tanned, and cocky-confident than ever. Okay, so I am trying to start something here, and that something is more video postings from SMG. As it is, he and Yann are in danger of looking like last year’s news right at the moment that Adam is piling on new muscle and pleasing his slack-jawed worshipers. It’s really no wonder Adam so handily dispatched the French phenom who posts old material. Last I thought about it, SMG was swooping in to kick the Frenchboy while he was down.
SMG pulls hard on Yann’s hair, prying the demolished hunk up to his knees. “Flex for me,” SMG commands darkly. Yann sways on his knees, his right leg almost entirely numb from the damage inflicted by Adam. “Flex for your god!!!” SMG yells at Yann, a speck of saliva inadvertently flying into the Frenchman’s face. Adam has taken SMG’s place, leaning against the wall, his arms folded across his massive chest as he watches with a pleased smile.
Yann swallows hard, his chest heaving in exhaustion and fear. He blinks his heavy lidded eyes rapidly before biting his lower lip and lifting his right arm, crunching out his massively peaked bicep impressively. SMG watches, crouching over the decimated muscleboy domineeringly. “That’s it,” he mutters. Yann’s mouth drops open as he gasps, past the point of exhaustion, his right arm dropping limply at his side as he once again sways unsteadily on his knees.
“You’re big,” SMG snarls in words that sound impressed but in a tone filled with contempt. “You may even be bigger than me.” SMG leans low, lifting his right arm and flexing his bicep inches in front of Yann’s face. “But size isn’t the same as strength, and I’m infinitely more powerful than you, mortal!” SMG pumps his bulging arm slowly, his peaked bicep flushing more massively with each pump. Finally, he stands up again, staring down at the fallen contender.
“Your most muscular,” SMG barks. “Let’s see it!” Yann closes his eyes, his face toward the ceiling in exhaustion and resignation. “Show me!!!” SMG snarls angrily. Jutting his chin defiantly forward, Yann sucks in a deep gulp of air before grasping his right wrist in this left hand in front of him, flexing his muscled torso. The striations in his pecs pop, his abs separating in incredible detail. The veins on his thick arms rise to the surface, as Yann flexes obediently.

“No, no, look at this,” SMG dismisses the French hunk. Pounding his right fist in the palm of his left hand, SMG crunches out his most muscular pose. His abdominal muscles flex hard, the distance between them disappearing between the mounds of muscles notably bigger and better defined than the Frenchman’s. His delts and arms freeze in solid slabs of muscle, and his pecs slowly crunch hard, the contraction rolling from the center of his chest outward. SMG’s jaw drops open in concentration, even as the corners of his mouth rise as he watches Yann’s eyes roaming up and down the length of SMG’s stunningly displayed frame. “Just tell me now that I’m your god,” SMG says, his voice strained as he continues his powerful flex. “Just say it now, and I’ll spare you more torment.”

Yann swallows hard, his eyes dazed, soaking in SMG’s towering body. He licks his lips quickly, his chest starting to pump harder again. Breathlessly, Yann whispers, almost in awe, “No.”

Earning a Shot, continued

Adam400m is up again with a new post featuring his behemoth legs. To whomever made that request of him, thank you! Next, can you request to see the same angles in a speedo… then a thong… then a jock strap?
That muscle butt of his is truly incredible, even when viewed only through the contours of his workout shorts. This makes for two video clips from Adam that have uncharacteristically gone unanswered by SteelMuscleGod. Adam is tanned, toned and more massive than ever. I hope that SMG isn’t starting to feel intimidated by the competition. When last we left Adam in the machinations of my imagination, he had ripped poor Yann’s knee and was proceeding to smother the Frenchman in the deep crevice between his rock hard, mountainous pecs.
Yann tries desperately to pry his face away from Adam’s crushing chest. He beats his fists at the Englishman’s massive shoulders, but Adam just smiles, unfazed. Yann begins to sag in Adam’s grasp, but he suddenly rallies, pulling his weight back onto his one good leg and clawing frantically at Adam’s bulging arms. The rally is shortlived, though. Slowly, Yann sags again in Adam’s grasp, until finally he’s hanging limply, arms at his sides, his face smashed against Adam’s chest by the Englishman’s arms wrapped around his head.
With a broad smile still on his face, Adam looks over to SteelMuscleGod, leaning against the wall. Adam’s eyebrows raise, questioningly but silent. SMG purses his lips in thought for a few seconds, the nods at Adam, saying simply, “Make him beg.”

Suddenly, Adam releases his hold on Yann’s head, causing the Frenchman to drop to his knees in a semi-conscious stupor. Adam grabs the back of Yann’s head in both his hands and shoves the Frenchman’s face into Adam’s speedo-clad crotch. He grinds Yann’s face into his package in slow circles for several seconds, until Yann sl0wly comes to his senses with Adam’s balls pressed against his lips. With a panicked start, Yann pulls his head away, only to find Adam powerfully shoving it downward again. Lifting his massive right leg to the side, Adam shoves Yann’s head between his thighs. The Frenchman’s entire head disappears between the girth of the Englishman’s monstrous quads.
Slowly and deliberately, Adam flexes his stunning legs, each muscle group hardening and separating in beautiful detail. Yann’s muffled cries come from deep between his opponent’s legs. Raising his hands to the back of his head, Adam flexes his core muscles and slowly gyrates his hips, applying excruciating pressure to every angle of Yann’s captured head and neck. Yann’s cries rise an octave as fear mixes with pain. Desperately Yann taps submissively at Adam’s rock hard thighs. A broad smile opens up across Adam’s face as he demands, “Beg for it!” Yann continues tapping frantically as sobs make his body quiver. Finally, Yann’s muffled voice comes from between Adam’s legs, pleading. “I beg you, please, please, please….” Adam’s smile turns into a sneer of contempt. He chuckles as he spreads his legs, watching Yann collapse at his feet, cradling his head in his hands.

Yann remains in a fetal position on the floor, cradling his throbbing head in his hands for several minutes. He pointedly keeps his eyes shut, praying for no further humiliation at the hands of his opponent. When he suddenly feels a hand grab a hold of the hair on top of his head, Yann gasps, startled. “Please…” he murmurs.

Opening his eyes, Yann looks up into the face of SteelMuscleGod hovering overhead, twisting Yann’s face toward him by his handful of hair. “Looks like you choked on your hors d’oeuvre,” SteelMuscleGod chuckled. “Now, I think I’ll have you for dessert.”

Earning a Shot, continued

Adam400m is back from vacationing in the Mediterranean, and he’s tanned and shredded to pieces. Seriously, I want to be on vacation, sunning on the beach, and see a body like this stroll by.
The last we left Adam, he was gaining the upper hand on his French muscle challenger, Yann.
Yann pounds his fist to the floor again and again, grunting in pain as Adam slowly twists his captured ankle, ripping the tendons in the Frenchman’s ankle and knee. Yann screams in pain at the sound of a sickening snap in his right knee, and Adam releases the ankle and climbs to his feet.
“Looks like you bit off a little more than you can chew, mate,” Adam chuckles, flexing his massive biceps and glancing at SteelMuscleGod, still leaning against a nearby wall observing the action.

Reaching down and grabbing Yann’s injured right leg, Adam pulls it off the floor and swiftly delivers a savage kick to the back of the damaged knee. Yann screams in pain, rolling to his side and yanking his ankle out of his opponent’s grasp. As Adam approaches again, Yann tries to crawl away, limping awkardly on his left knee to protect his damaged right leg.

“Where you squirming to, pencil boy?” Adam taunts. As Adam leans over again, Yann rolls to his right side and swings a precisely placed left foot into his opponent’s groin. Adam gasps, clutching his speedo, and dropping clumsily to his knees.

Despite winding the Englishman, Yann is still in excruciating pain and left with only one working leg. He quickly scoots his back to the nearby wall and presses himself up against the wall until he was standing on his one good leg. “I never bite off more than I can chew,” he spits down at the back of Adam’s head.
Adam climbs to his feet as the Frenchman watches, leaning against the wall. Adam’s face is beet red with fury. “You’ll pay for that low blow, you piece of shit!” he screams, spit flying from his rabid mouth. He jumps to his feet and charges Yann. Just as he reaches him, Yann holds up his hands in fear. “Wait, wait!” he cries.
Adam pauses, his fury burning lower for an instant. Yann’s eyes nervously glance toward SteelMuscleGod across the room. In a whisper, Yann pleads with his opponent. “We’re both winded now. But together we can beat that pretender, and then settle things between us afterward.”

Adam smiles, contemplating the proposal. After a few seconds, he lifts his right arm over his head and crunches his ridiculously shredded obliques, his tongue sticking out absentmindedly. He checks himself out for several seconds, and then looks up at his challenger. “Funny thing is,” he says, “I don’t think I’m all that winded.”

Yann mutters over and over, “No… no… no…” as Adam approaches. Yann attempts a right hook, but Adam easily bobs out of the path of the swinging fist. He yanks Yann off the wall and wraps his arms around the Frenchman’s head, shoving his face into Adam’s powerful chest. Yann’s legs buckle underneath him, and he hangs suspended in his opponent’s crushing embrace. Yann’s face disappears between Adam’s huge pecs, as the Englishman smothers him in the rock hard crevices of his stunning body.

Earning a Shot, continued

The battle of the internet muscle gods is firing up again. A couple days ago, SteelMuscleGod posted a new clip, showing us that he’s continued to build his beautiful muscles while he’s been absent from posting recently.

Of course, Adam400m, even on vacation in Cyprus, can’t let SMG have the last word, so he posted an update of his gorgeous, Mediterranean tanned, sun bleach blond muscle body today. Adam’s growing into his role as worship-worthy. Check out his gloating smile and nod of self-congratulation as he admires his own muscles at 0:24 and 0:34. Sizzling…
Which reminds me that we last left the Battle of the Gods some time ago, with French stallion Yann making Adam weep and beg in a figure-4 leg lock.
While torturing Adam’s tree-trunk legs, Yann lifts his arms and flexes his massive biceps, his torso turned to face his true target, SteelMuscleGod. Adam screams in primal anguish as his back arches and his torso flexes futilely. “This is nothing,” Yann snarls, his upper lip curled in disgust as his eyes remain riveted on SMG who remains leaning against a wall watching the action. “If this is your best competition, your days as a god are numbered!” SMG purses his lips and flexes his thick pecs intimidatingly, ominously silent.
With Yann’s attentions on his next bout, he fails to notice Adam twisting his shoulders, slowly rolling toward his right side. Too late, Yann’s eyes snap back to see Adam capitalize on his size advantage, rolling both men over to their stomaches. The switch in positions leaves Adam free to bend his captured knee, and quickly Adam presses himself off the mat. Disentangling their legs, grabs the Frenchman’s ankles and slowly lowers his muscled ass down across the small of Yann’s back, immobilizing Yann’s legs.
Yann grunts in pain, pounding his fist on the floor in frustration. Adam’s mouth hangs open, his tongue out slightly in concentration as he laces Yann’s ankles together and then pulls hard on the Frenchman’s left foot, stretching the tendons in his ankle and knee dangerously. Yann cries out in panic.
“For that sucker kick, I’m going to snap these little pencils that you call legs in half, you piece of shit!” Adam barks down. He twists harder, feeling the tension approaching the breaking point in his opponent’s knee. Adam chuckles, his eyes closing in reverie. Silently smiling at his own domination of his opponent, he whispers, “This is going to hurt a lot, my mortal friend.”

Earning a Shot, continued

I see that
Joe11NJ has taken the challenge directly to SteelMuscleGod himself, suggesting that French YouTube bodybuilder, Yann S., might have what it takes to turn the god into a jobberboy. Hopefully, SMG won’t smite Joe11NJ for his impertinence. Or, perhaps, Joe11NJ might like a good smiting. Hell, I wouldn’t mind a smiting from SMG, particularly if it involved my face smashed against his pec as he punishes me severely in a brutal side headlock.

Speaking of brutality, Yann S. poses a seriously brutal challenge to SMG’s #1 contender, Adam. It has to be said, though, that Adam has a distinct PR advantage over Yann, considering Adam continues to post new, updated evidence of his beautiful body regularly, and he’s growing seriously huge! Last we checked in with the three YouTube posers, Adam laid down the gauntlet, displaying is gargantuan thighs and taunting the Frenchman by calling his shanks “chicken legs.” Yann delivered the message loud and clear that this bout would be about more than just sheer muscle mass, though, with a savage kick to Adam’s face that dropped the English muscleboy to one knee.
Adam is dazed, his eyes blinking rapidly as he cradles his throbbing jaw in his hands. Before the room has stopped spinning for him, Yann has pivoted once more, lifting his left knee and driving it cracking loudly into Adam’s right cheek. The English bodybuilder drops to his side on the floor, wincing in pain and groaning. Leaning against a wall on the opposite side of the room, SMG watches, his arms folded, his face impassive.
Yann is all about headhunting. As Adam slowly pulls himself up to his hands and knees, Yann is dancing on the balls of his feet, calculating carefully. At just the right moment, as Adam lifts his head still perched on all fours, Yann plants his left foot and soccer-kicks the Englishmen in the chin. Adam’s head whips backward violently, as he’s lifted off his hands and thrown flat on his back. “We have a word for what you are,” Yann says, strutting and preening as he slowly circles Adam. “We call you an hors d’oeuvre.”
Yann glances at SMG, flexing and posing proudly for the champion. “You,” Yann says, finally relaxing and squaring his shoulders toward the SMG, “will be my entree.” Yann winks at SMG before turning his back to face his opponent. Adam remains flat on his back, his right hand lifted to his face, rubbing his eyes. “Now, we need to deal with those legs that you are so proud of,” Yann says, dropping to his knees and grabbing Adam’s ankles.
In one smooth motion, Yann falls to his ass while lacing his legs round Adam’s legs. Bending Adam’s left leg at 90 degrees, he places Adam’s left ankle over top of his right knee. Locking his own legs on top of Adam’s, Yann leans back on his elbows and looks down the length of his long, muscled body, proudly examining the secure figure-four leg lock. With a sudden surge, Yann flexes his legs, causing Adam’s right knee to hyperextend dangerously. Adam’s shoulders levitate off the floor as a panicked cry comes from his mouth. “Oh god, no!” Adam shouts, pleading with his opponent.
“That’s right,” Yann replies with a broad smile. “From now on, I’ll be your new god for you to worship, beg, and service.” Yann looks over his shoulder at SMG and winks at the champion, even as Adam continues to cry out in pain.

Earning a Shot

Joe11nj is getting into the spirit of things. He commented this weekend on my last ode to Steel Muscle God, where Joe suggested that he can imagine young muscle stud, Yann666 overcoming SMG and making the musclegod submit in a full nelson bodyscissors.
First of all, well done Joe11nj! I’m 100% in support of your hot wrestling kink imagination being fully engaged. Looking at young Yann, I see what you’re talking about. The French phenom appears to have that freakish genetic gift of tiny little joints and ridiculously massive muscles, with the gorgeous vascularity that you know I love. Looking at Yann’s most-muscular, I can indeed imagine that he would pose a serious threat to power out of SMG’s full nelson decisively.
But I have to cry foul if we jump ahead in the story to the moment that Yann drags SMG to the ground in a full nelson body scissors threatening to break his godly neck. Young Yann really should earn his way to a muscle on muscle battle of bodies with the reigning champion of my imaginary YouTube muscle worship wrestling competition. Brit powerhouse Adam400m is still the top contender to redeem himself from his humiliating beating after a back-and-forth battle with the man who would ultimately demand Adam’s obedient worship.

SMG gets to watch, his thick arms folded across his bulging pecs, leaning against a wall as Adam and Yann slowly circle one another in the center of the room. Adam outweighs the Frenchman, and he’s motivated by his humiliating defeat at the hands (legs, pecs, arms) of his god to regain face. Yann is such a cocky little bastard, though, sneering with contempt at Adam’s bodybuilder muscles as the two of them circle one another cautiously.

The Frenchman is in board shorts, which seems to be his standard gear. Adam, in his navy blue speedo, taunts Yann. “If I had little chicken legs like those, I’d hide them, too,” Adam sneers. Stopping, placing his hands on his hips, Adam flexes his tree trunk thighs, slowly rotating back and forth to display every bulge and crevice of his massive, legs. “Of course,” Adam smiles, “I clearly don’t have chicken legs like yours.”
The French hardbody spins in a blur of motion, swinging his right leg high and driving his heel into the side of Adam’s face with a dull thud. Adam’s head whips to the side from the shocking blow, and he drops to one knee, cradling his face in his hands.
“Those big muscles won’t help you much once I’ve broken your legs,” Yann says, his thick French accent making his threat of savage brutality sound civilized.