Brandon Twice
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Private Competition Part 2
🕑 Added 2019-06-25 00:27:40 +0000 UTCThe next words I spoke to my four captive athletes shot straight to their souls:
“Nothing has changed here, boys. You’re still in a competition, simply with a different judge to win over: me. Do not waste your breath asking who I am or how I’m doing this, and do not lament your current or future situations. Impress me with your bodies and you have everything to gain. Fail, and you may lose all that you hold dear.”
The next moment they were freed. I watched as they blinked and gazed around nervously. Surely their first impulses, despite what I had just said, would be to disobey me, muttering in bewilderment and confusion about what could possibly be going on or even sprinting for the door to escape. The moment I spoke the words, however, each of them was physically bound to my rules.
Hovering a few feet above them, glowering down on them, I gave my first order: “Front double bi.”
Each of the men hit their poses and I took time to admire them. The thickness of Andrey’s arms was breathtaking. Despite the fact that years of drugs and synthol had created them, I couldn’t deny the splendor of Phil’s thick limbs either. Derek’s massive cannons shone in the stage lights. They each looked nearly a foot thick. It was the peaks atop Adam’s biceps that stuck out to me though, along with the width and depth of his triceps heads. He was a genetic masterpiece, developed to perfection.
“Rear lat spread,” I commanded and my athletes obeyed. Andrey’s posing was mechanical; precise but cold, there was no flourish to the pose he was clearly in a hurry to get to. However, when he spread, I stared upon several feet of unbelievable beef. I wanted to get my hands on his deep, dense “wings.”
Phil’s posing was just as lifeless. Despite the massive amounts of colorful ink along his back I could still see every detail on his magnificent back, clearly shaped and sculpted over decades of obsessive toil.
Derek had an air of confidence about him as he hit his poses. Clearly he had recovered from the shock of my presence and the situation they were in and was operating under the assumption that he would win this as naturally as he won everything else. His conceit was nearly as intoxicating as the massive lats that sprung out as he flexed. They were as thick as a cinderblock. Everything about this man was unmistakably huge despite the large men on either side of him.
Once again, however, Adam stood out amongst his peers. His poses were fluid and balletic. His confidence was evident but understated. And when he spread his lats he became a wall of stunning male flesh. He had such a rare and natural beauty I wanted to make him a living statue, freeze him in this moment to savor him forever. Had I not already committed myself to this competition, I would have.
“Final pose for this round, boys: abdominal/thigh.” Each of the bulky men spun around, folded their arms behind their head and stomped the ground while they flexed their abs. While the buffet of abdominal muscle before me was incredible, my focus was on their bulging posers.
Andrey’s navy blue trunks had a little bulge that looked overwhelmed by the huge quads on either side. He seemed unaffected by his roid-stunted unit, choosing tight, high-cut trunks that showed off every inch of his bulbous glutes but did nothing to mask his shrunken shame.
While Phil’s unit wasn’t nearly as small as Andrey’s, he still didn’t have much down below. His forest green posers held only a modest bulge but he and I both know that he had once been the owner of a proud piece of meat and a set of full, heavy balls--but those days were many years and dozens of cycles behind him.
Derek’s bulge was so huge it looked nearly inhuman. He had chosen his bright orange posers specifically to draw attention to what he knew was a show-stopping manhood. He shamelessly thrust out his stuffed basket knowing it would likely be the biggest unit most people had ever seen. There was nothing better than psyching out his competition before they ever stepped onstage by showing them that no matter how big they built their muscles, he would always be bigger where it counted.
But not for long; this round wasn’t going to be judged on the size of their cocks. These men couldn’t help what they were born with. It was their bodies and their stage presence that won me over--specifically Adam, whose larger than average bulge in his maroon posers looked full and heavy between his impeccably built quads. While it was nowhere near as big as Derek’s, it was still a beautiful mound of flesh in his shiny posers.
“I’ve chosen this round’s winner, gentlemen,” I said with a smile. “Hold your poses.”
Derek felt it first--a sharp pain in his trunks, as if two invisible fingers had roughly pinched him. He groaned, his cocky smile fading as his whole body shivered. Still, he had no choice but to do as I said and maintain his flexed stance.
Phil’s went wide as if he’d been goosed. Andrey grimaced and groaned. “Oof,” moaned the big Russian as he did his best to hold still. All at once, each of their posers started to slowly deflate.
Adam’s eyes fluttered as he was overwhelmed by a euphoric haze. He opened his mouth to moan but no sound came out. With the sound of an inflating balloon, his own cock and balls started to swell. I allowed his posers to expand just enough to accommodate, stretching without snapping despite being filled to overflowing with the enlarged unit. The added weight on Adam’s groin made his back arch; it was clear he was desperate to break his pose and readjust to the strain but there would be no movement until I said so. When I was finished, Adam’s bulge was the size of a basketball, his trunks only covering about 40% of it.
I turned to Derek when I heard him whimper. His eyes were now focused on his empty posing trunks. I slowly levitated down to the stage and walked between the three losers of this round, centering on Derek. “Oh, these trunks are far too big. What made you pick these?” I said, flapping the empty fabric back and forth. His heartbreak was clear on his face.
Then I stood before Phil, tweaking his emptied pouch. “Clearly this was meant for a bigger man. You look foolish in it.”
Phil grimaced at me. “It just looks small… cuz my… quads’re… so.. Big…”
“No,” I said. “It looks small because it’s absolutely tiny!”
Andrey seemed the least disturbed by the change. He was certainly unsettled by the transformation of his body but he looked down over the rest of himself, which seemed just as large as it had always been. He could clearly live with the change.
“Let me just alter your wardrobes a bit,” I said. Suddenly their posers all changed shape. The three losers’ dicks were each now a little grape-sized nub above two tic-tac balls. Their trunks shrink-wrapped to their new forms, showing off their ludicrously tiny packages. Meanwhile, the back of their trunks reshaped into thongs that disappeared into the huge globes of their glutes. Andrey’s trunks became bright blue, Phil’s now a brilliant green, Derek’s even more neon orange than before. It was no unmistakable that these three behemoths were all useless in the cock department, while all the attention was drawn to their big juicy asses. I left Adam’s the same color but made it slightly translucent to show off the grandiosity within.
“You can all move now,” I said. Derek pawed at his groin as if he could somehow pull it back out. His thick fingers could barely grip the tiny dick. Jerking off would now be quite different for him, probably a one fingered rub-off. He groaned at the contact; while I had shrunk all of their cocks, I’d simply compressed the nerves into the reduced areas. Each of the losers’ little mosquito-bite dicks would be incredibly sensitive from now on. Derek discovered this first: after brushing against his poser just a few times, his whole body suddenly convulsed and shook for just a second. His poser only seemed dry because the cum he’d shot was such a tiny amount. I savored his discovery that this was what his orgasms would be from now on.
Meanwhile, Adam stood on the end breathing raggedly, sweat pouring down his face as he stared at his gigantic new cock. He looked afraid to touch it; it looked like his mind couldn’t wrap around the size of his newly blossomed appendage. If he wrapped both hands around it, there was no chance his fingers would touch. Meanwhile, each of his balls was the size of his own muscular fists. Buying pants would be a struggle for this man from now on, let alone the fact that there was no living human he could fit that thing inside again. I saw a future of jerking his monstrous cock furiously, desperate to get relief from the pulsating testosterone factories swinging heavily between his legs. His needy cock twitched and it was clear it was dominating his bloodflow. Adam would never have a clear thought again, his mind always fogged by the overwhelming urges of his giant dick.
“What a magnificent bull,” I said, proud of my creation. “What an absolutely beautiful human being.” I turned to the three others. “Don’t fret, men. Your bodies are still impressive, especially now that your cocks are no longer a distraction. Imagine how much more you can focus on bodybuilding without having to think about sex. The humiliation you’ll feel every time you drop your pants in a locker room will drive you to build your bodies even harder. If anything, I’ve given you an incredible gift today. And to be honest, not a one of you seems very grateful. Luckily for you, there’s another round.”
I floated up above the stage again, ready to resume judgment. “Gentlemen, show me your best side chest pose.”
