ALPHA BOYS-Part 2
Anthony & Matty's Night Out
by p_grazy	

	It was another Saturday night and downtown was packed once again with 
throngs of rowdy, stumbling and drunk college students.  Sean, a lanky 19 year 
old business major, waited in line in front of Club Millennium and watched the 
boys, many of them his classmates, that strolled past him. Behind him quietly 
stood Brent, a poli sci major he'd met in class two days ago. Brent was cute 
enough, slender with short blond hair and soft brown eyes, but still, there was 
nothing about him excited Sean's cock. He'd hoped that after a few rounds of 
drinks and an hour of discreet groping at the club would awaken something in his 
loins, and hopefully the evening would conclude back at his dorm room with him 
thrusting his thighs against Brent's naked ass. If there was anything to get him 
"going", it was all the delicious boys he was observing. He loved these warm 
spring nights, the time of year when all the campus studs would shed their 
fleece pullovers, heavy parkas and overcoats, and hordes of fit and muscular 
boys would wander the streets, bare-chested with shirts tied around their 
waists, open containers in their hands, shouting and carousing, not giving a 
fuck, picking fights, swinging their arms and cracking their knuckles into the 
head of some poor bastard who laid on his ass, his back against a car door, his 
hands raised defensively. There were so many fucking studs on campus and it 
seemed like every other guy was a jock or future personal trainer or sports 
therapist. 
	Two patrons standing in line before Sean decided they'd had enough of 
waiting and stepped out into the street. Sean  shifted up to close the gap and 
suddenly realized he was standing one foot from the backside of Anthony 
Garanello. Anthony was an Alpha Zeta frat-boy and one of Sean's favorite campus 
eye-candies. His eyes were lazily transfixed, his lips dumbly half open as he 
took in Anthony's physique. He was clad in white tank-top that tightly contoured 
every curve of his solid, muscled bulk. His eyes observed the neat, perfectly 
trimmed black hairline, the thin gold chain that circled the wide bull-neck, the 
way the tank top strapped over his thick, meaty traps, the way his back muscles 
bunched and squirmed as he moved his arms, and the defined perfection of his 
triceps.  He was wearing black sweatpants. Anthony didn't give a fuck; he 
dressed to the club like he was going to the gym. He had worked tremendously 
hard on his body, adored what he had accomplished and lived to show off. He knew 
it drove girls...even some guys...nuts to see his body. He knew it intimidated a 
lot other guys, made them red with a sense of inferiority, made them step out of 
his way, and that knowledge made his dick swell with confidence. He was from 
Long Island, all NY Italian-American cocky swagger. He drove around in a overly 
customized brand new Mercedes, a hypothesized result of his family's rumored 
mafia-connections. It was another aspect that filled Anthony with a sense of 
entitlement and arrogance. Sean knew from class that this guy was not the 
brightest bulb in the box or a 'deep-thinker', but his pure muscle-stud appeal 
drove him crazy.  The guy would wear short-sleeved shirts to class even in 
winter. Sean had spent entire class periods dreamily observing Anthony. The 
lectures would seem endless and immediately after they were dismissed, Sean 
would dash back to his dorm room, anxiously yank out his erect dick and jerk it 
with furious abandon. He had spilled pints of semen with the image of Anthony's 
biceps balling as he picked his heavy textbooks off a desk, or swinging a 
backpack over his muscled shoulders, in his mind. 
	"Ugh..." Brent whispered behind him. "All these guys are too big. 
Steroids. You like that?" He asked.
	Sean didn't have time to respond. Anthony had overheard Brent’s comment, 
turned sideways and looked directly into Sean's eyes.
	"You looking at something?" He asked unblinkingly.
	Sean didn't say anything, mesmerized by Anthony's profile, by his tank-top 
sagging and almost bursting with heavy pec-meat. 
	"Is this what you want to see?" Anthony's eyebrows raised as he swiftly 
flexed his right arm, his bicep exploding, the detailed head of the muscle 
stretching against the smooth skin. He held the pose for a second, just inches 
from Sean's face, before letting his arm drop.
	"I thought so. Glad I could help boys. Anytime." Anthony smirked as he 
turned back around.
	"God...what an asshole." Brent mumbled. Sean nodded his head, but wished 
Brent would just go away.
	Sean realized that directly in front of Anthony was Matty Holman, another 
Alpha Zeta brother.  Matty was a total douchebag, the kid of obnoxious jock who 
in high school regularly slammed random kids against lockers and laughed at 
their wincing pain. He was short, but his stature only helped to compress his 
muscular body. He wore a baseball cap, a tight polo shirt that accented his 
bulbous pecs and deltoids, his awesome upper arms bulging from the short 
sleeves, and a pair of tight denim jeans that tightly wrapped around his hard 
ass. Sean resisted the impulse to cup both hands around that upper arm and 
squeeze.
	Matty turned to Anthony, with an intense look in his eyes.
	"I swear to God, I gonna kill that faggot."
	For a brief moment, Sean assumed Matty was talking about him and was taken 
aback. He listened while avoiding actively watching them, and realized Matty was 
talking about some guy and his two buddies further up in line. Who knows what 
the guy had done to piss Matty off, but it had been a bad move, as the guy had a 
reputation as someone just itching to send you to the emergency room. 
	"Aight. Just chill out." Anthony said calmly, looking off into space, 
"Payback's coming. We'll take care of it. Just fuckin' relax."
	Matty was still fuming to himself, his fists balled and his arms at full 
of tension.
	"I'm just telling you. I'm gonna fuck them up. Who the fuck does he think 
he is? I swear, I'll break their fuckin' necks." Matty grunted.
	Sean had no idea of these boys' extracurricular activities, had no clue of 
the things they had done with their bare hands. Anthony and Matty knew exactly 
of what physical destruction they were capable of and in public they struggled 
to suppress the brutal urges that drove them. Sean dismissed Matty's words as 
mere shit-talk.  Still, there was a dim hope in Sean's mind that he would 
witness a simple fight, that he would observe Anthony and Matty beat the living 
shit out of those guys. If he did, he would be alarmed and the intellectual side 
of him would despise the violence, but something in his cock would stir 
excitedly at the sight of these two muscle-studs, fists balled, standing and 
dripping sweat and testosterone onto their broken and bloodied prey. He wanted 
to hear Matt shout "C'MON!" as he swung his arms in brutal arches and pummeled 
some poor, pleading son-of-a-bitch. Once the deed was done Sean would lift up 
Matty's shirt, stick his head beneath, and his tongue would lick his abs and 
muscle tits-
	"Hello. You awake?" Brent asked Sean, as he prodded him forward as the 
line began to move.
	Anthony glanced back once more at Sean, a faint smile on his face. He 
turned around and whispered something in Matty's ear. Matt turned and got a good 
look at Sean and Brent, as if sizing them up, then smiled and nodded his head at 
Anthony.

	Once inside the club, Sean dispatched Brent, who was 21, to the bar to get 
some drinks. The club was dark, very loud with hip-hop music blaring and packed 
with young people. When Brent returned and handed him a Heineken, Sean 
completely ignored him as he caught sight of Matty. Some black-haired slut was 
clasped to his backside, her legs wrapped around his waist, rubbing her tits 
against his backside, her arms wrapped around him, her palms cupped over his 
polo-shirt clad pecs and her fingers squeezing the meat through the fabric, all 
the while Matty nodded happily to the music. Anthony had two girls under his 
control, one arm wrapped around each. One girl kept pressing her palm against 
his hard abdominal wall as she talked, while the other rested her fingers on his 
tricep. It bummed Sean that these boys were straight as hell and would never 
experience a sexual encounter with them.
	Sean was getting bored as he listened to Brent blather on and was about 
the suggest leaving when the music stopped and the one of the club's employees 
took the mic.
	"How you all doing tonight?! It's time for one of our proudest traditions 
here at Club Millennium. Millennium’s 'Hottie with the Body' Competition!"
	The crowd erupted into applause and hoots and Sean perked up. With an air 
of impatience Sean watched as the girls went first. They stripped off their 
shirts and wandered around a short platform, almost completely nude. He kept 
glancing over at Matty and Anthony, fervently hoping they would participate.
	Then the announcer called the men up. Brent stopped babbling about his 
dull job at the campus bookstore and fixed his eyes to the stage.
	The first few guys on the platform did a little catwalk turn. The girls 
howled "WOO!" as they paraded, one by one, stripped down to their socks and 
shorts. They were attractive, slender and fit, very pleasing to the eye. Some 
skinny and anemic-looking doofus wandered up on stage. He was all skin and bones 
and as a joke, began striking bodybuilding poses. The crowd laughed and cheered, 
but Sean only noticed Anthony. The Italian muscle-bull had stepped into the 
platform and was now standing directly behind the scrawny poser. He was wearing 
nothing but a pair of tight gray briefs that stretched against the rounded orbs 
of his luscious ass. Sean dreamily observed the triangle between his thighs, the 
underwear fabric bulging with the snake outline of Anthony's cock-candy and 
heavy ball-sack. His thick, powerful arms hung loosely at his sides, his biceps 
unflexed yet still unbelievably thick and his quads hanging loosely like a rack 
of meat. Without warning, Anthony slammed his palms against the thin kid's 
shoulder blades and knocked him off the platform. The crowd roared and laughed 
as Anthony just stood there, his head thrown back on his tree-trunk neck and 
effortlessly bounced his left pec, then jiggled the other, then let both muscle-
tits dance in unison. Sean looked down and watched the skinny kid's concerned 
friends help him off the floor, the kid in genuine pain, grimacing as he 
massaged the elbow that had struck the ground. Anthony didn't give it a moments 
consideration, as he swooped his arms forward and they shredded into a crab 
pose, his mouth open and his tongue sticking out as if silently mouthing an 
arrogant "YEAH!". When he pivoted for a brief side bicep pose, Sean's eyes 
bounced between the rock hard sculpted head of the bicep, to the sight of his 
underwear being snugly tugged sideways against those incredible asscheeks.  
Matty suddenly leapt onto the platform. Still fully dressed, he began to dance 
and grind his hips, and slowly pulled his polo shirt up, inch by inch, first 
exposing his abs. His torso gyrated back and forth, as he tugged the shirt  
higher and higher, snagging it over the twin protuberances of his chest, his 
face and cocky smirk now curtained behind the fabric. Sean was hypnotized by the 
swaying motions of Matt's hips, by the solidness of his midsection, the way his 
lats curved out as he pulled the shirt overhead. Freed from the shirt, Matt 
crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the crowd. He continued his 
striptease, leisurely unbuckling his belt and slowly pulling his jeans down 
along his smooth, solid legs, as Anthony stood to his side and shot the crowd a 
serious side tricep pose. Sean wished vainly that Matt would unleash his cock 
from the white underwear that concealed it. Matty ratcheted his arms in a double 
bicep pose, his head nodding and his eyes burning with the brightness of a guy 
who knows he's the shit as his biceps popped and pumped against the skin. He 
stood relaxed a moment, looked at the crowd and then pointed a finger at Anthony 
and nodded, as if to say "Get a load of this guy!" Matty dropped to his knees, 
stuck out his tongue, and pretended to lustfully lick Anthony's abs, his tongue 
wagging lasciviously an inch away from the muscular wall. He craned his head up 
and lashed his wet tongue so tantalizingly close to Anthony's nipple. Anthony 
could no longer resist and burst into laughter, as the little muscleman spun 
around and began to dry-hump his rear, Matty's cock-bundle rubbing against the  
Italian muscle-bull's curved ass mounds. Sean felt his dick squirm and harden in 
his crotch.
	"Get off the stage you homos!" a guy in the crowd shouted. Sean 
immediately recognized him as the same guy that Matty had spoken of earlier.
	Matty glanced at him for a moment,  leapt off Anthony, grabbed his crotch 
and shook it defiantly at the guy, mouthing "Suck my balls!"
	The MC tried to calm the crowd down, "Okay, okay. I think we may have a 
tie for the guys! Let's hear it for Anthony and Matt!"
	The crowd roared as Matty leapt on Anthony's backside and the big guy 
carried him off the stage.
	Forty minutes past and Sean and Brent hung around the club. Brent noticed 
the outline of Sean's hardon against his trousers and mistakenly assumed himself 
to be the cause of it. Sean was about to suggest leaving the club when his eye 
caught something. Matty and Anthony were in a corner, talking quietly as if 
formulating a plan. The two musclestuds then began walking through the crowd. 
Sean watched as they followed three guys down the side corridor that led to the 
laboratories...the very same guys Matty had promised to batter.
	About ten minutes past. Sean could no longer resist.
	"Hey, c'mon." He stood up and impatiently beckoned Brent, "I want to see 
this."
	"What?" Brent looked confused, "What's happening here?"
	"C'mon, Brent!" Sean grabbed Brent's arm  and the they hurried into the 
hallway.
	They cleaved through the crowd, stopping at the men's room. Sean pushed 
the door open and peered in, but saw none of the boys he was searching for. He 
ducked out and they made their way down, finally turning a corner at the 
furthest end of the hall. To his right, Sean saw a  large wooden door with a 
latch, a posted sign marked "EMPLOYEES ONLY."
	"You going to tell me what's going on?" Brent asked.
	"Shhh!" Sean whispered.
	He slowly pushed the door open a crack and peeked in.
	Through the slit Sean could see the interior of the club's supply room, 
shelving units loaded with beer bottles off the side. Even though the club's 
music thumped from down the hallway, he could hear what struck him as labored 
breathing and grunting. He edged the door a little more and saw Matt Holman, his 
shirtless, muscle-bunched backside facing towards him. He was swinging his arms 
like pulverizing pistons and beating the living shit out of one of the guys they 
had tailed. The punk was pinned  against a wall and Matty's fist slammed 
viciously straight across his face with a hard crack. The guy's head snapped to 
his side, his hair wildly disheveled, the skin on his face bright red from the 
impact of Matty's knuckles. Matty began driving blows deep into his belly, the 
kid gulping for air, his feet jerking off the floor and his backside bashing 
against the wall. Flat on the ground Sean spotted one of the guy's buddies. His 
face was unrecognizable, swollen and blackish, slick with red wetness, his white 
concert T-shirt stained with long blots of blood.   He couldn't see Anthony or 
the third punk. The door was suddenly ripped from his grasp and before Sean and 
Brent's eyes appeared Anthony's imposing pecs. 
	"What's up, peeps?" He said flatly.
	Still clad in a tank-top and black sweatpants, he blocked their path like 
a wall.  The Italian muscle-bull seized their shirts and brutally wrenched them 
inside the supply room, then used his elbow to knock the door closed with a loud 
bang. Anthony slammed his palms against the boys' sternums and knocked them hard 
against the concrete wall.
	"Oww! What the-" Brent cried.
	Anthony stepped in real close, his chest almost crushing them against the 
wall. Sean could smell his masculine sweat and hear his measured breathing. The 
Italian kid stared at them thug-like and unblinking. 
	Matty's ceased battering the punk and looked back.
	"Who the fuck are they?" he asked, irritated at the interruption.
	"These are the two guys I told you about. The ones in line. They've been 
scoping me out all fucking night. ESPECIALLY this one."  he said pressing his 
face close to Sean's "I could fucking feel you checking out my body. What? You 
got a thing for muscleguys?"
	"HA! HA! He fucking WANTS you!" Matty cackled, then asked,  "Are you gonna 
do 'em or what?"
	Before he could answer, a guy, completely naked except for his socks, his 
face bruised and beaten, leapt out from  a dark, unlit space behind a storage 
shelf and dashed for the door. 
	"What the..." Sean jumped with surprise.
	It was the third guy Anthony and Matty had followed. They had beaten the 
poor kid, torn off his clothes, then had seemingly forgotten about him as they 
concentrated on the other two. Sean thought he recognized him. 
Chris..."Something". He seemed to remember him vaguely from some house party.
	Matty sprung for the kid, his hands missing Chris by two inches and he 
stumbled to the floor.
	"ANT, GET THAT GUY!" he shouted.
	Anthony pounced. The kid's hand gripped the latch. Anthony swiftly stepped 
behind him and slipped both his big arms around his skull, compressing it in a 
powerful headlock. He stepped back, dragging the kid's squeaking sneakers away 
from his intended escape route. It was an awesome sight. Anthony's left arm 
triceps were smoothly extended as he locked his hand around the back of the 
kid's skull, his lat flaring out at the side. Chris' torso and legs bucked and 
writhed with a wild desire to escape. Chris locked one hand on Anthony's bicep 
and tugged at it feebly. Sean noticed that Anthony's upper arms were almost 
twice the thickness of the Chris' neck. 
	 Anthony snorted, his eyes set on the crown of the Chris' head, then he 
looked back at Matty. "You think I should do him now?"
	Matty shrugged. "Yeah. Whatever. Do it. Just take care of him, man."
	Anthony forced his forearm against the kid's throat. It only took a few 
seconds. Blood flow to his brain was squelched, the kid's manic squirming ceased 
and his arms flopped to his sides and dangled, his legs splaying out to his 
sides. Brent was now scared shitless, but the sight of the skinny, naked and 
sleeping kid, so pathetic and effortlessly overtaken by the pure musclepower of 
Anthony's body, made Sean's dick so incredibly hard.
	Anthony looked up at them, his eyes dark.  "You two shut up. Be real 
fuckin' quiet. Listen to this."
	Anthony kept his eyes locked on Brent and Sean as his arms constricted 
around the kid's head and neck. The muscles in his arms shuddered with the 
application of strength. Sean heard the snap of hard bone deep within the kid's 
neck, the sound muffled by Anthony's dense bicep, but unmistakable.
	"Yep...there it goes." Anthony grimaced to himself. "Muther-fucker is 
sleeping now."
	Anthony still held the dead punk upright. The kid looked peaceful in his 
grasp.  All life having evaporated from his muscles, his bladder emptied, a 
steady stream of piss raining from his limp penis and spilling onto the floor in 
a growing yellow puddle. Anthony opened his arms and gravity immediately claimed 
the twitching corpse. It flopped to the floor, the cock dribbling out its last 
store of piss. Anthony slowly sauntered towards Sean and Brent.
	"You hear that?" he asked.
	Brent was now actually trembling.
	"Please don't hurt me..." he mumbled as he stepped back and unconsciously 
raised his hands in a defensive gesture.
	Anthony bore irritated expression on his face, as if annoyed at what a 
little wuss Brent was, but he didn't answer. Rather he reached up and tugged his 
tank-top over his head, bending his torso forward, his rock-solid abs and the 
hard solidness of his mid-section coming into relief. He tossed his shirt onto 
the floor, cleared his throat once and then tapped one finger against each of 
his nipples.
	"Suck on 'em." he said flatly.
	"What?" Brent raised an eyebrow.
	"You heard me. Both of you. Put your mouth on 'em and suck." Anthony 
reached forward and gently cupped his palms on the backs of their heads, then 
gripped them tightly to emphasize his next point, "And if you two try anything, 
like biting them or some shit,  I'll hurt you. You have no idea how bad I'll 
hurt you. No clue."
	"HA! Better do what he says." Matty said from behind, "He'll fuckin' WRECK 
you guys." 
	There was a malicious tint to Matty's voice, as if he wished the boys 
would disobey so he could get off watching Anthony destroy them.
	Anthony firmly pulled their heads closer and guided their faces to the two 
pink fleshy points that crowned each expansive pec. Their feet shuffled forward 
and they could sense the undeniable strength of the Italian stud's pull.  They 
both sensed how much stronger Anthony was than them, how he could truly "wreck" 
them if he wanted to. They did not resist as he easily tugged them closer.
	"Get 'em wet and hard." Anthony murmured as he closed his eyes and felt 
two curling tongues wet his nipples. Brent shyly flicked his tongue against pink 
nipple with little puppy licks, glancing up at Anthony timidly . Sean's eyes 
were glazed with lust and utter willingness. He sunk his face deep into 
Anthony's pec meat, briefly suffocating himself against the smooth skin and the 
hard man-flesh, inhaling the odor of sweat and muscle, before his open mouth 
hungrily honed in on the nipple and engulfed it. Anthony felt blood rush into 
and swell his dick as Sean's mouth sucked and slurped on his nipple, his kisses 
parting with a succulent smack, his tongue-tip sensually circling and his lips 
playfully nibbling the sensitive, hardening nub. Anthony stood there, his thick 
arms hanging at his sides, eyes closed, intoxicated by the feeling of these two 
boys totally under his control and devoted to his muscle-tits like suckling 
piglets.
	As he sucked, Sean glanced to his side and watched Matty. The muscle-
shortie had finished pummeling the kid who had inspired his wrath in the first 
place, and had flopped him to the floor. He climbed on top of his chest, planted 
his knee firmly on his breastbone and now had both arms extended and taut, his 
triceps crisply outlined, his hands clamped around the kid's vulnerable throat. 
A bead of sweat dripped off Matty's intensely furrowed brow, dropped onto his 
pec, streamed down the sloping muscle and fell onto the writhing torso of the 
boy he was now strangling. The kid was gasping, his face an expression of 
hideous shock, as he realized this was the very end of his life. He tried to 
claw his fingers into Matty's eyes.  Matt unlatched one hand from the throat, 
snapped his arm down and rammed his knuckles into his face. 
	THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! 
	Blood squirted from the kid's nose as Matty's re-gripped his throat. His 
face winced as he applied every ounce of crushing-power in his compactly 
muscular body towards collapsing the windpipe. 
	Sean watched, his mouth still sucking like a fish on Anthony's nipple, as 
Matty's took the life from the punk. He heard the kid's long gasps evolve into 
shorter rasps, each kick and spasm of his limbs became less animated and 
violent, increasingly drained of energy and resistance. Sean was overtaken by 
how unmovably strong Matty was, crouched over, his abs bunching up, his pecs 
hanging and jiggling over his prey, his eyes alive with excitement and staring 
with absolute kill-lust into the slowly fading pupils of the dying kid. The 
kid's skinny arms hung motionless in the air a moment, then sunk soundlessly to 
the floor, his wrists bent. His chest suddenly seized and arched up. A 
shockingly loud rasp emerged from the depths of his throat. It was the last 
noise he made before his chest relaxed back down to the floor. His eyes no 
longer moved and his brain sunk into milky oblivion and fizzled out. Matty held 
his grip firm for another full minute, just to make sure the fucker was faking 
his demise, squeezing and compressing the neck within his palms tighter and 
tighter. He heard something snap and let go.	 
	Matty stood up, his pecs and hard abs breathing in and out heavily. He 
raised he arm and wiped the sweat from his brow and Sean noted how pumped those 
forearms of his were. 
	"I swear, Ant." Matty said, "I love choking 'em. Love it, love it, love 
it." He kept wringing and twisting his hands as if they still contained a pliant 
throat. "I could do it all day. Wake up, strangle every muther-fucker on campus. 
When I'm done, go and squeeze every fucking neck in town. UM!" He shadow-boxed 
for a few seconds, trying to channel out the pent-up energy and excitement in 
his body, his biceps, triceps and chest jiggling as he did so, his muscles giddy 
at the prospect of using their power to annihilate. He flexed his right bicep, 
studied it a moment, stoked his index finger against the hard muscle and then 
dropped his arm. 
	"Know what I mean, Ant?" he said.
	Anthony hadn't been paying attention to Matty's mumblings, so intoxicated 
he was at being the subject to the two boys' worship. Sean had now fished his 
hand below his waistband and was now firmly stroking his own insistent hard-on. 
His mouth broke away from the saliva-soaked nipple and now began to worship 
Anthony's midsection, extending his tongue and sliding it over the bumpy ridges 
of abdominal muscle, kissing the flesh and gliding his tongue through the black 
hairs that trailed beneath the waistband of Anthony's sweatpants and towards his 
sweaty crotch. Sean was now moaning absently to himself, as pulled his hand from 
his cock and cupped both palms on Anthony's relaxed upper arm and began to 
squeeze and caress the solid muscles.  He couldn't see the tricep from his 
position, but simply by feel he could easily detect its shape and sculptural 
perfection. He craned his head forward and his lips pecked and kissed the 
extended bicep, his tongue leaving streaks of saliva on the skin.
	"Yo Matty. Check this guy out!" Anthony laughed and nodded towards Sean, 
"This little fuck can't get enough of this shit."
	Anthony curled his arm into a bicep pose, the muscle nearly bursting 
through the skin and blossoming in Sean's face. Sean's eyes went wide and he 
quickly lurched forward and tried to kiss it. Anthony yanked his arm back and 
Sean nearly fell forward.
	"Mm...Mmmm!." Sean moaned with a babyish plea. Totally fixated on the 
bicep, his fingers eagerly reached again for the delectable muscle.
	Both Anthony and Matty burst in laughter.
	"Fuckin' muscle addict, this guy. Okay, little guy." He flexed his arm 
again and Sean's open mouth gulped over the peak and sucked lovingly on it, 
measuring its firmness by squeezing his lips together against the muscle. The 
bicep peak filled his mouth and he explored it with his tongue, savoring the 
feel and taste. 
	"Good shit, huh?" Anthony asked Sean rhetorically. "What's the fuck is 
wrong with your buddy? I don't think he's into it as much as you. What's your 
problem, dipshit?" Anthony nodded at Brent.
	Sean's mouth parted from the bicep with a slurp and he murmured, 
"Mm...Hurt him."
	"What'd you say?" Anthony said incredulously, his mouth half-open in a 
smile.
	Sean arched upwards and began squeezing and kissing Anthony's bowling ball 
deltoids, his fingers kneading the solid muscle. All rationality had left Sean 
as he was now totally absorbed in this orgy of muscle and death.
	"Hurt him..." He mumbled. He didn't make eye contact with Anthony, as if 
that would exempt him from any responsibility from what his request would bring.
	"I want..I want to see you do it. Like you did to the other guy..."
	Anthony snorted, "Well the 'other guy' is fuckin' dead. You wanna see 
that?"
	Sean looked down and nodded his head childishly.
 	Brent stopped nibbling on Anthony's nipple and looked up. The Italian 
muscle-bull was staring straight down at him.	
	"NO!" Brent squealed, hopped to his feet like a spry rabbit and tried to 
dash behind Anthony towards the door. Anthony's body pulled away from Sean's 
worshipping hands and mouth, spun around, seized Brent's wrist and jerked back 
hard. Brent shrieked as his arm broke at the elbow with a grisly pop.  He fell 
backwards on his ass onto the sprawled naked corpse of the kid Anthony had 
snuffed earlier. Brent screamed girlishly as he gazed at the dead young man, his 
head awkwardly canted off his savagely broken neck and leaning tilted against 
the floor, and saw his own fate reflected in the glazed eyes.. 
	"No!!! No!!! Noooooo! Please! I can get you money! We can just go to an 
ATM machine RIGHT NOW! Please don't do-"
	"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Anthony roared, as he began stomping his right foot 
deep into Brent's soft abdomen. Brent convulsed in pain when Anthony's foot 
slammed down and shattered his pelvis.
	Matty moved next to Anthony and looked down at Brent. Sean shimmied over 
on his knees and pressed his face against the thick layer of muscle on Matty's 
backside, slovenly licking the skin while his fingers obsessively squeezed the 
bulbous, muscular ass that was tightly ensconced in his jeans.
	"Oh my God...you're so hot...I wanna-" Sean sputtered.
	Matty looked down sharply and immediately punched Sean in the head.
	"Get the fuck off dude, I ain't into that shit!" Matty yelled.
	Matty reached down, his palms ready to grip Sean's neck, when Anthony 
grabbed him by the shoulder.
	"Nah. Nah. You had your fucking fun with that dead douchebag, now it's my 
turn." Anthony said as he waved his hand and motioned Matty to step away.
	 Sean and Brent where rolling on the floor, once holding his bashed head, 
the other whimpering and groaning as searing pain radiated out from his 
shattered hipbone. In a fluid motion, Anthony slid his sweatpants down his 
mountainous quadriceps, crouched down, yanked them off his calves and tossed 
them to the floor. He reached down, cupped his palm beneath Sean's chin and 
guided his head up.
	"Get up." Anthony said, as one hand tugged his grey briefs down his legs. 
The gorgeous, meaty bulbs of his ass came into view and his Italian cock sprung 
forward, hard and yearning for a good, refreshing fuck. Anthony jerked Sean 
closer, so that the boy was on his knees, his face almost in Anthony's crotch. 
Sean's eyes went wide as they took in the thick shaft that rose from the patch 
of black, coarse crotch hair. Anthony arched his hips, his ass-cheeks tensing, 
as he teasingly poked his dick against Sean's hollow cheek.
	"You like that? My fucking sausage? Huh?" Anthony said with a cocky grin, 
himself overwhelmed by the feeling of influence he exerted over this lustfully 
devoted boy. He could spot the look of awe in Sean's eyes as the kid absorbed 
the sheer size of the his cock.  
	"Put it in your mouth and suck on that shit."
	Sean did not hesitate. One palm gripped the cock where it joined the 
crotch, his fingers tickling Anthony's very substantial balls, while he sunk the 
solid shaft straight into his mouth. Anthony could feel the warm juices in 
Sean's mouth pleasingly envelope and gush around his dick. He placed his palms 
on Sean's skull and began to firmly guide it in and out, in and out, and a long 
moan escaped his lips as he felt those wet lips slide soothingly against his 
sensitive meat.
	"Yo Matty." he said, his eyes already dull with the narcosis of impending 
orgasm. He nodded down towards Brent, who lay curled up in a ball, trying to 
play possum. "Snap his fuckin' neck when you see me about to come." 
	"Sweet!" Matty showed his teeth. He cupped his hands together, cracked his 
knuckles and his biceps popped from his arms. He swooped down, hoisted Brent up 
into a standing position and wrapped his arms around his head. One hand gripped 
the bottom of Brent's jaw, while the other was sealed tightly around the back of 
his skull.
	Anthony nodded. "Yeah. That's it. Stand him up. I wanna see this shit."
	Anthony's breathing rate rose and his torso began to unconsciously arch 
back and spasm with building tension as Sean slurped on his dick with increasing 
vigor.  Anthony's balls were engorged with hot cum, the semen bubbling under 
immense pressure, desperate for an outlet. His hands now tugged on Sean's hair 
roughly, forcing the him to consume greater portions of his dick and suck it 
faster, the boy now almost gagging on the monstrous meat. 
	Anthony opened eyes and looked at Matty and the wriggling boy ensnared in 
his beefy, powerful arms. 
	Matty gazed back, eyes expectant.
	"Do it? Should I pop him now?" He asked, his compact and densely muscled 
body tense with anticipation, his arms tightening like a python around the 
skull.
	Brent tried to scream again, but Matty's fingers kept his jawbone clamped 
shut. His hip was in excruciating pain but his good leg stomped the floor in 
protest and tried the swing back and kick his captor. He was in a state of 
absolute terror. He was only twenty years old. He'd gone out tonight on a last 
minute hook-up, nothing much, and here he was, his life now about to end with a 
snap of his neck so some college musclehead frat-boy could spew his wad. 
	"Not yet...not...fuckin' wait..." The look on Anthony's face was almost 
pleading as he fought to resist the staggering swell of orgasmic pleasure ready 
to fire up his shaft. 
	"...Get him ready, bro. Get him...ah...get him...AH...AH...FUCK. DO IT!"
	Matty jerked Brent's head with a devastatingly powerful twist, wrenching 
the skull hard from the vertebrae and snapping his neck like a stick.
	cra-CRACK!
	 A dull orgasmic moan oozed from Brent's parted lips.
	"Mmmmmm...."
	 The lids descended slightly over his life-emptied eyes and his body 
swiftly relaxed and turned to jelly in Matty's upright deathgrip.
	"AHHH!! UMMPPFF!!" Anthony grunted as a pinpoint of pleasure centralized 
in his dick suddenly exploded outwards and engulfed his entire body in 
paralyzing waves of ecstasy. A geyser of cum burst forth into Sean's mouth and 
down his throat. He tried to jerk away from the hot, sticky flood choking him, 
but Anthony's hands kept his head firmly in place. Anthony kept his glazed eyes 
partially open, savoring the image of Matty holding the limp Brent upright, the 
Italian muscle-bull milking every last ounce of orgasm as his buddy continued to 
slowly crank the dead boy's skull until Anthony heard tendons and ligaments pop 
and tear. His cock spurted out the very last spasms of cum and he pulled his 
softening shaft from Sean's mouth. Sean began hacking, trying to suppress the 
gag reflex as gelatinous wads of thick sperm-fluid coated his mouth and throat.
	Brent was dead, every muscle in his thin frame relaxed. His sphincter 
unclenched and a turd crept out from his asshole and his underwear ballooned 
with feces.
	"Oh!" Matty said, grimacing at the stench. "This guy just shit himself!" 
	He unwrapped his arms and knocked the slack corpse to the floor with 
disgust.
	Anthony stood there a moment,  his broad chest expanding as he breathed 
slowly, standing there with a look of total satisfaction, sweat coating his pecs 
and backside, and his thick arms swaying by his sides.  Sean coughed again and 
wiped his mouth with his wrist. He looked up, his eyes scanning past the navel 
centered in the thick wall of abdominal muscle, higher past the curved 
protuberances of solid pec meat,  and saw Anthony staring unblinkingly down at 
him. Sean looked hunched and meek, as he began to stroke the inside of the 
muscle-bull's thigh with the back of his hand.
	"You're not going to...hurt me? Are you." He asked in a low voice.
	Anthony said nothing. He leaned down, placed his palms on Sean's head and 
gently ran them reassuringly through his hair for a moment, before cupping his 
palms flat and firm over the ears. 
	"Uggghh! Ugghhhhhh!! UHH!!" Sean groaned.
	His face winced grotesquely as his swung up his skinny-wristed hands up 
and desperately tried to dig his fingers beneath Anthony's vice-like grip, 
hoping to thwart the inward crushing pressure. With Anthony's palms cupped over 
his ears, Sean could hear nothing except for a dull hum, the sound of 
pressurized blood compressing against his brain, and his own muffled groans. A 
bead of sweat dripped off Anthony's forehead, as veins snaked in his forearms, 
his deltoids grew as large and hard as bowling balls and his pecs pressed 
together. Then Sean heard it...
	Ccr....crrr...crik.
	The muffled popping of his own skull slowly relenting under Anthony's 
hands. His skull shook violently, as he opened his mouth wide and screamed 
without restraint. The sound was deafening and his cry lasted eight long seconds 
until Anthony heard a sharp crunch and felt the skull cave slightly against his 
palms. He opened his hands and Sean collapsed backwards on bent knees, blood 
sluicing freely from one nostril, his limbs twitching as his damaged brain 
short-circuited and died.
	"Yeah..." Anthony muttered to himself, then looked back at Matty with a 
lazy smile. "All those dumbbell flyes finally paid off."
	"Holy Shit!" Matty came over, an impressed smile on his face, as knocked 
his knuckles against Anthony's, "You cracked it like a nut! I'm gonna call those 
fuckin' arms of yours 'nut-crackers' from now on."
	"Yeah, let's see you do that!" Anthony said, his head thrown back with a 
cocky, challenging grin.
	"Alright...alright...whatever. Next time." Matty laughed.
	The door to the supply room swung open. 
	"Fuck..." escaped from Matty's lips as he stood next to a completely naked 
Anthony and five corpses lay sprawled on the floor. In the doorway they 
recognized Justin Leferve, one of the clubs bouncers.
	"Jesus!" Justin cried in shock as he observed the scene. He quickly 
stepped into the room and shut the door behind him.
	"Hey what's up, J?" Anthony said.
	"Hey, Ant, Matty. So that was you guys. I could hear that little bastard 
scream all the way out there. What you...you crushed his fucking skull! Nice! 
You fucking beast!" He laughed and knocked his knuckles playfully against 
Anthony's shoulder.
	Anthony just grinned and shook his head to himself.
	Justin helped the boys roll the bodies into triple-layers of sturdy, hefty 
garbage bags. Matty climbed in the back alley dumpster and shifted the contents 
so the "fresh garbage" would be concealed on the bottom. Both Anthony and Matty 
knew Justin from the gym. Justin was a bodybuilder and bouncer, knew how things 
worked and knew how the weak got fucked. He planned to pledge for Alpha Zeta 
house next semester.