slave_formuscle aka redwolf64

Chapter 2

It was just another normal day for me. At least as normal as it could be.

Even though I'm gay, I wasn't really turned on by muscle and power. As far as most things 
go, I'm pretty conventional. I went through my day at work unable to concentrate. I 
couldn't get the mental image of this powerful being out of my head all day. I was so 
horney all day, lost in my thoughts about the previous night.

Perhaps I had just imagined everything. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep, my libido 
getting carried away, I didn't know.

There was nothing in the hallway when I woke up the next morning. No blood, no trace of 
anything that had happened. The only thing I noticed was the maintenance guy, a nice 
bear, cleaning up shattered glass from the security door outside the apartment. He didn't 
know how it had been broken and didn't seem to care; he was just pissed off that it 
needed to be replaced.

I thought about the night before all day and I couldn't get it out of my mind. The face -- 
the face on the being looked a little like my neighbor upstairs, Richard. But it couldnt' 
have been him. I had seen Richard before. Nice build, but nothing like the thing that I 
had seen last night.

It was night again and I couldn't sleep.

The sounds of the crickets outside, the occasional passing traffic and creaking floors in 
the apartment drove me crazy. I sat in the living room, reading, trying to block out the 
noise. Then, I heard it.

It was a grunting sound, coming from upstairs. It sounded as though my upstairs 
neighbor was lifting weights. Or maybe having sex.

I listened to the sounds, slightly echoing through my living room; the hardwood floors and 
ten foot high ceilings accentuated the sounds.

Grrr....thump...grrr...thump....

Over and over again, I heard it. I couldn't get the sound out of my head. I became 
entranced by it.

I had to see him. I had to talk to him.

I didn't know why, but I needed to go upstairs.

Quietly, I walked out the door and locked my apartment. I walked up the stairs.

I listened for a moment outside Richard's door.

Grrrr....thump...grrr..thump.....

I felt frightened, but aroused. I took a deep breath. I knocked on the door.

The sound stopped.

I thought for a moment. There was silence. What would I say?

The door opened.

Richard peered out. He was completely naked, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts.

"How's it going?" I asked, awkwardly.

"Allright," Richard replied, staring at me.

"Couldn't sleep....woundered if you wanted to talk awhile..."

Richard paused for a moment, then motioned me to come in.

I noticed all around the sparsely furnished room different paintings and drawings in 
different styles - pen and ink, watercolors, oil paintings of scenery, portraits, almost 
anything you could think of.

"You do all those?" I asked.

Richard explained that they were gifts. 

Richard sat there in his chair, the only chair in his living room. I squatted on the floor, my 
legs crossed, looking around the room. He relaxed, at least to a certain extent, placing his 
leg on the arm of the chair.

His arms were crossed against his chest, a little sweat dripping on his torso. He had a 
decent build, almost like a swimmer; his pecs and arms were muscular, showing off his 
athletic physique, but were nothing special. His body language seemed to show a kind of 
defensive posture. But, below the waist was a different matter.

His legs were spread wide, his leg planted on the arm of the chair. His boxer shorts were 
tight, but not tight enough to expose his hardening cock and perfect balls. They dangled 
out of his shorts onto the side of his leg.

I wasn't sure if he was gay or straight; I felt a little scared - the guy had been in prison, so 
maybe he was just setting me up to bash my brains out.

My emotions ran wild. My cock was getting hard.

Richard just stared at me with his deep blue eyes. They were almost hypnotic, almost as if 
they were looking deep inside me.

He inhaled deeply, slowly, flexing his pecs and biceps, keeping his arms firmly crossed in 
front of his chest, not moving his eyes away from that deep stare.

I couldn't take my eyes away from his. The room seemed to disappear around us - almost 
in a trance, I could see nothing but Richard's body, sitting in the chair, slowly inhaling and 
exhaling, flexing his arms and pecs, slowly moving his head, flexing the muscles in his 
neck.

Then, I heard it. 

"You know what to do, boy."

Faint at first, almost a whisper in the quiet background noise of the room, almost a ringing 
in my ears.

Richard wasn't speaking - was it my imagination?

"You know what to do, boy."

There it was again, louder, more distinct.

It wasn't Richard's voice - it sounded like the strange beast I had seen in the hallway.

Richard's eyes were wide, hard, almost piercing, staring at me. He flexed harder, veins 
popping out and throbbing on his arms, chest and neck. His cock was rock hard and his 
balls hung low.

"On your knees, boy."

The voice was louder, distinct - powerful, almost guttural, commanding.

I felt as though I were in a trance. My body felt limp, as if I had lost control of my will. I 
coudn't take my eyes from Richard's stare - I felt drawn to him.

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. I felt myself moving from my cross-
legged position on the floor to my knees. Richard stood up from the chair, his rock hard 
erection poked out from the side of his boxer shorts.

I was on my knees, my hands on the floor, looking up at Richard. He still stared at me 
intensely, but something seemed different. He looked taller, thicker, more muscular, his 
jaw more square. The sweat was dripping from Richard's body.

I watched as Richard turned and stepped to the weightbench. His pecs seemed thicker 
and bounced a bit as he walked; the muscles on his calves and thighs were tight and 
flexed as he walked. The floor creaked a bit as his bare feet walked across the old 
hardwood floor.

Richard carefully took 45 pound weights and placed them on the bar. I didn't think to 
count how many he put on, but it seemed like a lot. He carefully secured them in place, 
then inhaled and picked up the bar in his hands.

He stared directly at me as he walked towards me. Towering over me as I crouched, 
helpless on my knees, his intense blue eyes stared right into me. He started pumping the 
weights, doing arm curls, slowly, intently, his biceps and pecs buldging with each rep, the 
veins throbbing on his body.

"Worship your God."

I heard the voice again from inside my head - Richard was not speaking. I didn't care if I 
was imagining it.

I felt my body drawn to Him. I looked at his feet, admiring their form. I moved towards 
Richard's feet, licking his toes as I heard him continue to pump the weight high above my 
head.

I worked my way up His legs - they seemed so thick, so muscular. I enjoyed feeling the 
hardness under my tongue, the veins snaking out on His thighs. I listened as Richard 
slowly pumped the weights above my head - His strength and power seemed 
overwhelming.

I reached his balls. They looked so large, ready to burst with his cum. I sniffed them, 
licked them, took them in my mouth.

I heard Richard groan and growl and he continued pumping the weights. I moved my 
hands to his calves and thighs as I sucked on his balls - his muscles were so hard, so 
pumped, the sweat dripped from His body.

I felt Richard's cock on my face. I wanted to worship it so badly - it was so hot, it felt like 
a fire emanating from it. I moved my mouth towards the tip and tasted the pre-cum 
dripping from His cock.

"NO!"

I heard Richard's voice - low, almost growling.

"This is wrong!"

I looked up. Richard's face stared at me, his eyes glaring - his brows and jaw were thicker, 
his pecs and arms enormous.

I watched in amazement as I saw Him bend the bar - the metal groaned at the strain, 
Richard growling, his muscles pumped and throbbing.

He stepped back, looking at the floor. He carefully placed the weights and twisted bar on 
the floor.

"You'd better leave," he said, staring at the floor.

END of part 2