The following story is an extensive expansion of another author's story by the same name. I changed the ending in a big way, but if you prefer less happy endings, then don't despair -- I'll be posting the original version of this story next week! :)
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Ruining a Muscled Porn Star
Based on an original story by Hotyoungthing
A dumb muscled porn star gets trashed and lets a client mangle his huge and perfect package. He's so wasted that he actually enjoys it, though god only knows how he'll feel tomorrow when the drugs wear off...
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Well I’m pretty fucked now. My massive cock and balls, my pride and joy, have got to be totally ruined by now. There is no chance in hell they will ever be used for much again. I doubt they are even worth the meat they’re made of. And right at this moment, I don’t really care. Although god knows how I’ll feel tomorrow when the drugs wear off.
So how did I come to be in this situation? I’ll explain.
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Discovery and Fashion Modeling
I started male modeling at a very early age. I was always big for my age, and at 14 I already looked like I was over 18. I was already 6 feet tall and weighed 215 pounds of lean and rock solid muscle. My body was exquisitely and perfectly proportioned and defined, a true work of art, and I had the gorgeous good looks to go right along with it.
I was discovered by a talent agent who's car happened to break down in my tiny flyspeck of a hometown, smack dab in the middle of the Midwest (yes indeed, I truly am one of those gorgeous, hunky, corn-fed boys that everyone is always fantasizing about). The talent scout saw me working at my uncle's auto shop, stripped to the waist under the hot summer sun with my tanned and muscular body glistening with sweat and grease, and he instantly knew I would be a huge sensation in the fashion and modeling world. He approached me and asked me my age, and I lied and told him I was 18. He then offered me a modeling contract right there on the spot. He spoke to my parents, and with their permission, I left town the next day on my way to California...and I never looked back.
I started doing fashion photo shoots, and I was a huge hit right from the start. Apparently, on top of being an incredibly handsome and well built stud, I also had that "it" factor, and knew how to work a camera or a runway with expert ease. In no time, I was skyrocketing toward super model stardom, and was whisked to a different major city almost every week. New York, Paris, Milan, Hong Kong, Tokyo – it was all a whirlwind.
I was just a kid, of course, so all the attention and fame and money quickly went to my head, and I was a cocky little shit almost from the very start. My confidence and arrogance, however, only added to my commercial appeal, and soon every major magazine and designer wanted me to represent their line or their product or their rag.
But it was my first swimsuit photo shoot that really catapulted me to the big time. Even at the age of 14 I was hung huge, and I mean HUGE. When I first posed in front of the camera in a skimpy speedo, the photographer began yelling at me and his staff for playing a ridiculous joke on him. But then I smirked at him, tugged down the waistband on the swimsuit, and hauled out my massive junk, and he almost fainted. We completed that photo shoot -- followed by a private one-on-one “photo session” between just the photographer and myself -- and the swimsuit photos were published in a magazine about two weeks later. That ended up being one of the most-sold issues in that magazine's history, and my name became a household word overnight. There was speculation everywhere regarding whether the photos were real or artfully – if obscenely – photoshopped. The thin fabric of the various swimsuits left little to the imagination, however, and so the majority tended to believe the truth, that everything you saw was all me, and all man.
Shit, I was having a fan-fucking-tastic time! I can’t begin to tell you how much sex you can have when you are a gorgeous and magnificently hung young muscle stud, particularly one who was rapidly becoming world famous, and I took full advantage of my youth and beauty and slept my way through more than half of the fashion and celebrity world. Designers, photographers, fellow models, fashion elite, movie stars, heads of corporations, politicians -- men and women, young and old, I banged 'em by the truckload.
It was also during these early, impressionable years that I was introduced to various party drugs. I’ve always been something of a dumb jock, and what started innocently enough as an occasional line of coke grew over the next few years into a full-blown habit. But it took a while before my drug habit got out of control, and I was good at masking it for years.
Fitness Modeling
By the time I was 16, my body had packed on another 30 pounds of pure muscle, and I was becoming too big and muscular to do the fashion circuit anymore. But with my beauty and talent, not to mention my already widespread fame, I easily made the transition to becoming a fitness and physique model, where I once again soared to great popularity. And as I got older, I continued to build quality muscle, and my already mighty physique continued to grow, and with it my already immense popularity.
I was soon featured in all of the fitness and bodybuilding magazines, and at the rate I was growing, there was speculation that I might soon enter the big leagues of professional bodybuilding. All of the mags were remarking at how massive and refined my body was for one of such a young age (of course, they all THOUGHT I was 20!), and the bodybuilding big wigs were excitedly anticipating how my body would continue to grow and mature in the years to come.
How much more stunned would they have been had they known my true age!
All this time, my agent and handlers had known my true age, but they kept it a secret because lots of modeling jobs would have been closed to me had prospective employers known I was under aged. Heck, the public at large might have gotten their panties in a bunch at the thought of marketing a 14-year-old or even a 16-year-old boy in an overtly sexual way. I went along with the deception, mostly because I didn't want anyone treating me like a kid, but also because I loved the work and the money and the opportunities. Not to mention the drugs and the sex and the parties!
But as my 18th birthday neared, I decided that I wanted to ring in the birthday with a bang. So on my actual birth day, I issued a press release revealing my true age, and I gave a long interview for the Rolling Stone that revealed how I had fooled and seduced dozens of employers and hundreds and hundreds of people. And oh yes, I named names and held nothing back! I behaved like the arrogant, spoiled brat that I was, and damn the consequences!
I started a media firestorm that sure as shit got my name in all the media...and burned just about every bridge I had built in my four-year fashion and fitness career. My little publicity stunt cost many people their jobs, resulted in several dozen divorces, instigated a nearly successful military coup in a small Middle Eastern nation, and was linked to no less than 4 suicides.
But I didn't fuckin' care -- as long as I had drugs and sex and cash to spend, I didn't care how many lives I ruined.
My little publicity stunt almost instantly transformed my image from that of a media darling, sex symbol, and respected athlete to that of a deceitful and untrustworthy whore. My work dried up overnight, my agent fired me, and I was forced to change gears once again.
The Porn Industry and My Downward Spiral
I had begun receiving offers for jobs in the porn industry since almost the very beginning, and especially once my first swimsuit photos were released. The offers ranged from everything from tasteful and artful nudes to XXX explicit films, but my agent had always forced me to turn these offers down, explaining that such work could easily ruin one's career. I had always been drawn to porn, though, and knew I would be great at it. I always felt stymied by the wall that my agent had put in place.
Now that I had torpedoed my legitimate career and had nothing left to lose, I was finally able to pursue a career in porn.
And believe me, I dove in head first! Or maybe dick first would be more accurate...
At the age of 18, I was one beefy bull of a muscle stud. I had reached my full height of 6'3", and I had packed even more awesome muscle onto my huge frame, tipping the scales at that point at a hefty 265 pounds of cut and chiseled muscle. I was well on my way to the size of the big super heavyweight bodybuilders, and I had a symmetry and perfection of form that most of them lacked. I was 100% all man, and even without my gargantuan basket, I was the kind of man who was destined to be a super star in the porn industry.
But to have my awesome good looks, phenomenal body, AND what quickly became known as the biggest set of cock and balls in the history of porn -- well, let's just say that videos and magazines featuring me were guaranteed to fly off the shelves.
Now I don’t think of myself as gay per se, as I'm always fucking horny and pretty much love sticking my huge, thick cock into anything warm, so I was equally happy doing both gay and straight porn. In fact, I tended to prefer gay porn because the pay was usually much better. I would only ever top at first, though, never bottom; I was just too much of a ‘man’ for that. But I was equally happy being worshipped by men as by women, showing off my huge muscled body and enormous package.
It was little wonder that I was known as an arrogant, dumb prick with a bad attitude. But the fans loved me and couldn't get enough of me, so the various porn studios put up with my attitude and behavior, showing up late for photo shoots or high to filming a porn scene, because they knew I was making them all butt loads of money.
On a lot of the porn sets, I’d request mirrors be placed all around. Nothing got me harder then seeing my own hot body fucking like some big muscled animal, pistoning in and out of some hole while I flexed and fucked for the camera. High on drugs, I became a sex god -- gorgeous, muscular, chiseled, dumb, and arrogant. Everything else would float away until it was just my cock and my muscles grinding away in an orgy of pleasure.
Hell, truth be told, I enjoyed the porn more than I had the modeling.
I made more than two dozen porn films a year for the next three years, not to mention countless photo shoots, online blog appearances, and meet-and-greets at various functions and street faires. I was working with all of the big names in the industry, I won the title of Porn Star of the Year for three years in a row, and every film I was in sold enough in pre-orders alone to make a huge profit even before the movie's release.
Oh yeah, I was riding high on yet another wave of success, and there seemed to end to my rise and marketability.
But then my drug habit started getting the better of me. At first, it revealed itself in my choice of film roles. I started doing progressively edgier and nastier films, a lot of fetish stuff, and some pretty fucking hard core shit. After almost two years of making my rabid fans beg for it, I did my first bottom role, and it was wildly popular. I followed it up with a bunch more films featuring me as a bottom, and even did a few very successful fisting films, getting my huge muscle ass plowed by men with big, corded forearms. Yeah, I could fucking take whatever they wanted to dish out, and kept begging for more.
My work became less and less mainstream, particularly when I started venturing into bondage porn and S&M, though I proved time and time again that I'm one hell of a tough son-of-a-bitch. Heh, not just a pretty face after all, as it turns out! I did a series of films where I was tied and bound with thick leather cuffs and heavy chains, while dark men with wicked implements of torture went at every inch of my powerful and fantastically muscular body. At this point, I was a truly huge muscle stud, tipping the scales at well over 300 pounds of prime grade meat, and I got off on showing these cruel men that they could not break me.
There was one film in particular that pushed the bondage boundaries farther than ever before. I was securely tied to a big St. Andrew's cross and my huge stud balls were viciously and continuously beaten and tortured for over two hours of non-stop footage. Not just whips and paddles, but fists, mallets, and boot stomps as well. Some really heavy, crazy shit. I took it all, high as a kite and begging for more, and came a total of six times in that video, each one without anyone touching my huge, throbbing horse cock, and each load more massive than the loads of any other 10 porn stars combined.
Yeah, I was a fucking STUD, that’s for sure.
By the time I turned 21, though, the roles started drying up and getting harder and harder to come by. I was every bit as handsome and massive and hung as ever – if anything, in fact, I was even bigger, weighing a whopping 335 pounds of pure muscle and bigger than the biggest professional bodybuilders – but my venture into darker and darker porn had started turning off the bulk of my fan base, and I wasn’t raking in as much money for the industry as I had before. Studios were less and less willing to put up with my bad attitude and bullshit, and I even got fired from a few jobs in mid production.
I have never had a head for money – or much of anything else that smacked of responsibility – so while any reasonably intelligent adult would have socked away thousands if not several millions of dollars after a hugely successful 7-year career run like mine, I had next to nothing and was quickly snorting what little of my financial success remained.
Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures
It soon got to the point where almost no studio or agent would touch me. I was high all the time, a huge hulking beast of muscle and sex willing to do whatever – or whoever – it took to get his next high. I turned to escorting to make ends meet, but didn’t have much of a head for business, and so even that wasn’t turning out well. I had more than one ‘john’ refuse to pay me and walk out while I was on some high, and a couple of times a guy used and abused me so hard that even I was sore for a couple of days, nursing a bruised hole or a battered set of cock and balls.
I was feeling pissed off and tired as hell, horny and high with nothing to do and no idea where I was going to get my next fix. That’s when one of the studio security guys, a big bald-headed bloke named Bubba, came to my ‘rescue’.
Bubba had always been a good mate of mine. He was a huge muscle bull himself, so he and I frequently talked about weight lifting and supplements and shit like that. If I was late to a shoot or too high to perform for the camera, he would usually give me a wink and tell me where the director was so I could stay out of his way. Bubba knew I had hit rock bottom, so to speak, and that my hot arse was a little short of cash, so he made me an offer and became my new agent/pimp.
Bubba had been involved in the gay porn industry for years and he knew a lot of the wealthy guys around this town. I’d been doing some escorting for a while now, a lot of muscle worship fantasies and shit like that, but the money wasn’t great and the work wasn’t steady. But what Bubba had in mind was something different. He explained that there are some really kinky, freaky men out there with a lot of money. Guys who have a thing for tying hot guys up and causing a bit of pain. He said that a big stud porn star like me had a lot of fans, particularly after I made those hardcore S&M films, and that men like this would pay top dollar to be able to use and abuse a hugely hung muscle stud like me.
I agreed to Bubba’s terms, and here’s how we worked things out – Bubba would find the clients and arrange the particulars, and I would take the job while Bubba would hang around to make sure I was safe. He was my own personal pimp and bodyguard, all rolled into one.
That’s how our little business started. My bad attitude and drug habits might have made me unpopular and unmarketable as a model or a porn star, but for these private jobs it didn’t matter. The more drugs I’m on, the more pain I can take, and the more my clients can do to me.
Most of my jobs involved me getting strapped down somewhere dark and private, like an underground dungeon or padded, windowless room. Sometimes upright to a wooden cross, sometimes stretched tight over a medical examination table. Whatever the client wanted. From there the client pretty much did whatever they liked to my big, muscled, enormously beefy body and my huge fucking cock and monster balls. Bubba always hung nearby and watched. He took care of me.
I had a safety signal for Bubba. A signal I did with my hands to ask him to step in. If the pain got too much or they started doing something that might damage my massive meat a little too permanently. But mostly I found I didn’t need it. I didn’t need it because I was so fucking out of it I couldn’t feel anything anyway.
Bubba watched and if the client started to get a bit too rough he’d step in. Usually before I’d even noticed. Like the time a client was smoking and he started to move the cigar towards my fat mushroom of a cock head. The arsehole was going to stab that big cigar right out into my huge meat! Before I even felt the heat of the glowing cigar, Bubba was there holding the arsehole by the wrist. He just shook his head and took the cigar away, then let the client continue with his play.
I didn’t mind giving Bubba the 65% split of the earnings. Without him, I’d have no work at all, and the money was enough to keep me in muscle-building supplements and drugs, so I was happy.
A Fateful Encounter
So this particular day, I’m naked and on my knees with my massively muscular arms tied tight behind my back. So tight that my tanned and monumentally-muscled chest is stretched taut and my huge pecs are really sticking out. My hips likewise jut out of their own accord, an entirely natural posture for my sex-crazed body, and my humongous fat cock is bobbing around in front of me like an obscene third arm. Rock hard, veiny, and proud. Just daring my client to ruin it.
He has a cable tie securely tightly around my entire package. One of those plastic straps that pull tight but have to be cut off. We allow the clients to use them so long as they don’t pull them too tight to be difficult to cut off later. This one is pulled pretty damn tight, making the huge veins all along my mammoth cock shaft bulge even larger, and turning my huge meat a few shades darker with trapped blood. A second cable tie has been secured around the base of my mango-sized bull balls, choking those cum-bloated balls down to the bottom of their huge sac and making them bulge and swell to even greater dimensions. My huge bull testicles were getting less of a blood supply than they were accustomed to, and so they had turned an angry shade of dark red verging on purple. I had endured worse before, and as long as the tie wasn’t left for too long, I knew I would be just fine.
I’m pretty damn fucking high. My handsome face is rolling around and my beautiful eyes are half closed in pure bliss. Man, I feel good. I’m on cloud nine. I have no idea what this client has planned for me, but I don’t much care; Bubba is here to take care of me, and that’s all that mattered.
I hear an argument taking place, but I can’t focus on the words. Suddenly, through the fog and haze of my drug-induced state, I hear a loud bang. It seems to echo around my head. It confuses me.
I half open my eyes and try to look around. Something is different. Something is wrong. Bubba is lying on his back, and a pool of blood is spreading around his huge, muscular form. The client, a handsome older gentleman wearing a dark apron and shoulder length black rubber gloves, is standing near Bubba. He is holding a gun, and a thin wisp of smoke is curling out of the gun’s barrel.
In my head somewhere I know that the gun and Bubba lying on the floor are somehow related. I can sense that there is a connection between the two. But I don’t know what it is. And I don’t really care. I just feel safe to see Bubba still there. Good old Bubba will take care of me. I smile at Bubba and then at the handsome client in the apron. I smile and let my eyes close. Man I feel great.
The client notices my smile and is relieved. He was concerned I hadn’t had enough drugs and might freak at the sight of my murdered friend. Just to be certain, he grabs a bag of powder and brings it over to my face. I slowly shake my head. Even this high, I know I’ve had enough. My heart is already thundering madly in my chest, like I’ve just been sprinting for three miles, and my breathing is heavy and fast.
Fuck these drugs are strong. God only knows what they are.
The client takes a leather ball gag out and straps it firmly around my head. My handsome jaw is forced open to fit the large gag, and he shoves the big black ball between my perfect white teeth. He then tightens the straps behind my head. I’m forced to breathe heavily through my nose. He then takes the bag of powder and jams it under my nose. I try weakly to turn my head away, but he holds me steady and I breathe the powder in deeply into my nasal cavity. Once I start, I want more, and I press my nose into the bag, greedily snorting as much as I can. He must have mixed some great stuff into that bag, including fuck loads of crushed Viagra, because soon I am reeling with lusty pleasure.
My entire body tingles like never before. My muscles were getting stiff and sore from having my hands roughly tied behind my back for so long, but now it feels like heaven to me. Every ache feels like tingles of pleasure dancing across my skin. I am reveling in a world of pure sensation and pleasure.
The client finally removes the bag of powder from beneath my nose. He gets up and quickly moves about the room, turning on at least a half dozen expensive looking video cameras on tripods, spending a moment to adjust each camera before moving on to the next one. In my drug-induced state of euphoria, I think that I’m filming a porn scene, so I start flexing my trapped muscles, making my enormous horse cock throb and bounce up and down and smacking it against my corrugated abs, really working it for the cameras.
The man returns to my side and picks up a screwdriver. One of those big Phillips head screwdrivers that’s well over a foot long, the kind they use for really big screws. This one is thick and rusty, with a plastic handle that is cracked with age. The handsome older man rubs it with oil, lubing it up really good.
Then he grabs my big cock with his other rubber-gloved hand, wrapping his fingers around as much of my cock shaft as he can. The man has long fingers, but my cock really is thicker than a beer can, so his fingers stop several inches shy of capturing the full circumference of my monster dong.
My skin is so sensitive I almost gasp when he grabs my cock. His grip is firm and feels fantastic. Instinctively I start to rock my hips, grinding my huge meat into his fist. It feels awesome.
He takes the screwdriver and places the tip of it into gaping eye of my cock. I stop grinding my hips and watch in fascination. Big as my piss slit is, the screwdriver is bigger, and I wonder how he is going to force the big metal implement inside.
The man presses the head of the screwdriver against the head of my cock, and the piss slit gapes larger still, expanding to accommodate the huge intruder. With the tip inserted, the rusty metal pointing into the depths of my cock, it is a simple matter to push the screwdriver farther in. Firmly and slowly, he drives the screwdriver into my huge meat. I feel every inch of it -- thousands of sensitive nerves feel the cold metal stretching into my hot meat. The feeling is exquisite! Inch after inch, the thick metal rod disappears into my mighty cock, and the thick cum tube running along the underside of my huge prick visibly distends as it stretches to accommodate the big invader.
Soon, the long screwdriver is in right up to the plastic handle. The handle of the screwdriver is pressed against the end of my purple, silky, swollen mushroom head! The sight is unbelievable, and I am turned on beyond belief. I can feel the metal rod all the way down to the deepest depths of my plumbing, extending all the way down the colossal length of my cock to the very base and beyond, digging into my groin.
The client looks coldly into my beautiful blue eyes, and I try to smile around my gag. Try to show him that I’m turned on and ready for more. Slowly, I start to buck my hips and fuck again. The handsome man keeps a firm grip on the handle of the screwdriver, so in actuality, I’m fucking the inside of my cock as I buck my hips forward and back. The rusty, well-oiled metal feels great sliding around inside my meat. I fuck faster and faster. The rough and rusty metal is probably tearing the insides of my cock apart, but I can’t feel a thing. I love it!
The client lets go of my cock, and frustrated, I stop my humping motion. The big screwdriver’s handle bobs rudely from the end of my fat, throbbing cock. We both stare at the sight for several long moments, watching the cock and trapped screwdriver quiver and bob with every thundering beat of my powerful young heart.
The client grips the handle again and slowly removes the screwdriver. It slides smoothly out, bringing with it a sticky trail of clear precum that dangles from the tip, the sweet honey that I always produce in bucket loads whenever I’m aroused. I also see that there are fine streaks of blood along the long screwdriver shaft, evidence that the huge and rough intruder was indeed damaging the delicate inner linings of my huge cock. Yeah, it looks like it was really tearing me up inside.
The client discards the precum-dripping screwdriver, and then reaches down and tightens the cable ties. He pulls them so fucking tight that they completely strangle my package. This is far tighter than my clients are usually allowed to choke my cock and balls, but I don’t worry about it, as I know Bubba will come in and rescue me if the client tries to take things too far. My cock and balls are turning even darker now, definitely verging on purple, and seem to swell to even greater dimensions.
I’m so fucking horny that it’s hard to describe. I am aching to be touched now. The client sees the aching need etched across my handsome features, and pours some oil on the floor and says, “You wanna fuck something? You big dumb fucking horny shit! You can fuck the damn floor!”
Grabbing me by my tied arms, he swings me face down on the floor. My arms are still tied behind my back, so I have no way of stopping my great muscular bulk as I tip forward onto the floor. I instinctively turn one of my massive shoulders forward to absorb the blow of impact, sparing my legendary face from an unfortunate encounter with the glazed cement floor.
My huge cock is trapped between the muscular cobblestone wall of my stomach and the cold, oil-slick cement floor. WOW! The sensation of the cold floor and my weight bearing down on my trapped cock is absolutely amazing! Slowly I slide my cock back and forth against the smooth and oily concrete. Really grinding my hips into the floor. I could do this for hours. In my ecstasy, I don’t pay attention to the client, who moves behind me.
My huge, massively muscular thighs are splayed wide apart as I fuck the floor, and my massive, low hanging man fruits rest heavily on the cold cement, stretching a good three or four inches behind my grinding crotch due to the tremendous natural length of my dangle. I suddenly feel something hard and rough press against the top of my left ball, something big and ridged. I feel a similar sensation on top of my right ball, and look back just in time to see the client raise himself up, balancing himself on a nearby countertop as he places all of his weight on his booted feet…and onto my trapped balls.
An electric surge of pure ecstasy plows through my body as my huge bull balls are forced to take every ounce of the handsome client’s weight. I moan in deep throated pleasure as my mighty bollocks flatten between my thighs, their massive thickness squishing almost flat beneath the client’s boots. The client has a good build for a guy his age, and is heavier than he looks, and now every ounce of his weight is bearing down on my huge trapped balls.
I continue humping the ground, even faster this time, reveling in the lightning bolts of pleasure shooting from my trapped plums, even as they fight valiantly to not rupture against the unrelenting pressure.
As I grind and pump my hips, the motion has the added bonus of stretching my trapped and crushed nuts even farther, increasing my bliss. I begin thrusting harder than ever, really tearing at my balls, at least doubling their already extraordinary dangle. I might be doing irreparable harm to the delicate cords and tubes connecting my gargantuan balls to my body, but I just don’t care, the feeling is overpoweringly intense and erotic.
The client repositions his feet so that his boot heels are bearing down into the meat of my huge balls, and then he begins to bounce up and down, really tearing into my balls now. I cry out in ecstasy, and with my grinding body language I beg for more. My balls have been subjected to some fucking rough play before, but this is extreme even for me. My vulnerable and completely helpless balls are forced to take the full assault of the client’s bouncing weight, and I know somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind that no man’s balls can take this sort of abuse for long. In fact, most man’s balls would surely have burst already, but even my beefy, powerhouse nuts can’t endure this sort of brutal crushing forever.
I keep thinking what a fucking stud bull I am, supporting a man’s entire weight on my huge, powerful balls, and I’m fucking getting off on the mangling of my own nuts. Precum is literally pumping out of my cock in a steady sticky river onto the cement floor, mixing with the oil to make the cold stone surface even more slippery. If I didn’t have the ball gag in my mouth, I know I would be begging for more.
When the client begins grinding his heels into my balls like he’s putting out a cigarette, I really go wild. I can feel every nerve ending in my huge balls firing off as my beefy nuts are flattened and squashed to a fraction of their normal thickness, the thick meat of those mighty twin orbs deforming grotesquely around the invading boot heels. I’m loving every moment of it, and I’m heedless of the fact that my mammoth bull balls might give way and rupture at any moment, ending my sex life forever. I just know that I want more.
I’m actually disappointed when the client finally steps off my balls, taking his weight off of my most vulnerable organs and letting them rebound to their normal healthy egg-like shapes. They have survived a brutal crushing that would have destroyed most men’s balls, but who knows what permanent damage he may have caused in the meantime.
All I know is that I don’t care.
The client gives one last parting shot, kicking his booted heel into my nearly crushed nuts and smashing them up against my groin. I swear it feels like he’s trying to kick those huge orbs back up inside my body! The explosion of sensation is so intense that, for a moment, my whole vision turns white and sparkly, but then the blindness fades and I am left with a deep, burning, throbbing ache of monumental proportions in my screaming nuts.
The handsome older man moves next to me and is doing something to the floor. But again, I don’t care, as I am making love to the precum- and oil-slicked concrete.
When he steps away, I see that the client has emptied a big jar of thumbtacks onto the floor, the big gold ones with little spikes that are over a quarter of an inch long. He has arranged the tacks in a roughly circular pattern and is making sure that they are all needle side up. Next he takes some more oil and pours it liberally all over the pool of shiny new thumbtacks.
He then grabs me by my bound arms and lifts me off the floor back onto my knees. Damn, this guy is even stronger than he looks, cuz I weigh a fucking ton! I moan in disappointment and hump the empty air with my big, angry cock. Cock snot dribbles from the end of my meat in a thick rope as yet more precum pumps out of my huge log, running down in thick sticky rivers over my huge, aching balls, which are now an even darker red from the recent brutal abuse and continuing strangulation of the cable tie. I’m so fucking horny and I long to shoot my load.
He turns me slightly so I’m facing the area of thumbtacks. “You wanna fuck that huh?” he says. “You wanna grind your disgustingly oversized meat into something?”
I nod my dumb head and mumble an affirmative. I don’t care. I just wanna cum. My balls feel so bloated with spunk that they might explode. I start humping the air again. My whole body was built to fuck and it’s all I want to do right now.
He unties my hands then and lets me go. I move fluidly into the push-up position, the massive muscles on my gigantic arms immediately flexing to even greater proportions.
Push-ups - I’ve fucked so many hunks and babes in this position. It’s in my very nature.
My spectacular body straddles the circle of thumbtacks, my huge rampant cock dribbling thick ropes of pecker snot onto the shiny tacks, and I slowly lower myself down.
The majority of the tacks are beneath my huge cock and balls, but there are some scattered as low as my big muscled thighs and as high as my huge, bulging, tanned pecs, with a clustering of tacks around the wall of my chiseled eight-pack stomach. As I lower my body down and press my heavy, beefy flesh into the cold stone floor, hundreds of thumbtacks simultaneously pierce my perfect skin.
The exquisite feeling as the thumbtacks slide into my body is literally indescribable. Every nerve ending is on fire, especially on the underside of my huge cock and gargantuan balls, as dozens and dozens of tacks stab straight into my swollen meat.
I’m now lying flat on my stomach, my body pressed firmly into the floor, forcing as much skin contact with the concrete floor as I can. Tacks are stuck deep into my meat and my muscles. It’s not enough. I grind my cock into the oily concrete floor, driving those tacks as deep into me as possible. I lift back up and aim my cock and balls at any tacks that have not yet found a home, and I press down again, plunging yet more tacks into my tingling flesh. Again and again and again, until every tack has pierced my body. My nerves in my cock and balls are screaming, but my drug fucked brain feels nothing but pleasure. I fuck the floor and the tacks. I grind and fuck. It’s fantastic.
But all too soon, the client is holding me by the leather gag at the back of my handsome head. He pulls me roughly off the floor and back onto my knees. I look down and see my shiny wet muscled body. The oil glimmers on my massive and spectacular muscles, and the shiny golden tack heads all but cover my muscular abdomen, the underside of my huge heavy cock, and the bottoms of my behemoth bull balls. The top and most of the sides of my cock have no tacks in it, and while I can’t see the many tacks stuck to the underside of the huge shaft, I can see enough poking out on the sides to know that virtually every bit of exposed cock flesh has been covered in tacks.
The lower half of my perfect abs are also nearly covered with tacks, so many of the golden tacks heads shimmering in the light that, in my drug haze, I think it looks like scales. Hey look, I’m turning into a fish! A scattering of tacks are also pressed into the meat of my massive thighs and into the incredibly thick mounds of my spectacular chest. One tack is stuck clear into my left nipple, buried to the hilt in the big meaty nub of my tit.
I move my big hand and wrap it around my huge, swollen meat. The scalloped surface of the dozens and dozens of tacks feels strange against my hand, but erotic at the same time. I start jerking off my huge fuck club, but my client knocks my hand away, saying, “No. Not yet, my stupid muscle jock. I have a surprise for you first.”
He takes out a pair of big and rough leather gloves and forces them onto my huge, meaty hands. My hands are so big that I normally need my gloves specially made, but this guy has clearly done his research, for these gloves are a perfect fit. Next, he grabs a large and clear glass jar. I can see that the jar is filled with something nearly clear and very sparkly, and I’m proud of myself when my drug-fucked mind deduces that the jar is filled with broken glass, crushed almost as fine as powder.
I didn’t know this at the time, but to make glass shards this fine, my handsome client filled a blender with water and chunks of broken glass and blended the mixture for more than 10 minutes. Then he strained the water away, allowed the residue to dry, and was left with a jar full of fine splinters of glass. Most of the pieces are smaller than grains of sand, and the largest are the size of fingernail clippings. All are razor sharp and sparkling in the bright light.
The glass is dry now, but my cock and body are glistening with oil and precum.
He starts to sprinkle the glass all over my package. He also sprinkles it over my chest and over my big thighs. He is very generous with his broken glass, and my crotch and body are soon sparkling in the light almost like I’m covered in glitter.
Once the jar is empty he says, “Go on you dumb jock. You’re so fucking horny? Jerk that meat.”
I take my gloved right hand and wrap it around the base of my fat purple hard cock. My hand rubs against the smooth tack heads and the broken glass. I tighten my grip, and I feel the tiny glass shards stab into my cock meat, a thousand tiny puncture wounds that provide the most erotic tingling sensation I’ve ever felt.
My huge horse cock is so big that more than half of the huge organ is sticking out the top of my big fist, glistening and sparkling with oil and tiny splinters of glass. I take my left hand and grip the top half, my firm grip mashing the tacks and glass into my perfect hard cock head. The slippery oil feels particularly sensual and erotic.
I start to jerk off, hard and slow. I tighten my grip. The thick gloves protect my hands from being cut, but my unprotected cock meat is being wickedly lacerated. There’s a surprisingly small amount of blood, probably because the majority of the glass shards and splinters are so small. Still, I can feel every single piece of glass as they cut into my huge dick, pressed harder and harder into my skin with each powerful and energetic stroke of my twin fists.
I jerk off for what feels like ages. It’s so good. I want to cum and relieve the monstrous churning in my choking and overburdened nuts, but in some part of my mind I’m holding back. I think I’m in a porno and I’m wanting for the director to tell me it’s time for the big money shot. I have no doubt that this will be one of my best cum shots ever, as I can’t remember ever being this turned on before in my life.
The client is apparently satisfied that I have adequately mauled my monster cock. He grabs my hands roughly off of my cock, yanks off the gloves, and binds my wrists once again behind my muscular back. My huge cock continues to throb and drool thick ropes of precum, and is now covered in scratches and angry welts along with the golden tacks. The tie around the base of my cock is really choking the life out of my huge prick, and it is now turning an ugly shade of reddish purple. I’m too drugged to worry about what sort of damage this prolonged starvation of fresh blood is having on my huge root, and am instead enthralled by how much my cock is now sparkling in the light, almost as it if is coated in tiny diamonds.
Now the client brings out a big BBQ, the expensive kind shaped like a big ceramic egg. It’s all fired up and the hot plate on top is visibly steaming with heat. He pours yet more oil all over the plate, and the oil immediately starts sizzling and popping.
He then hauls me to my feet and leads me over to the BBQ, my bloated cock proudly pointing the way.
“Fuck that, you big stupid bull! Fuck it!!” He hisses in my ear in a tone full of both lust and disgust. I swagger the final steps over to the BBQ, flexing my massive leg and chest muscles in a way that I now will look great on camera. The oily surface looks hot and inviting, and my rampant cock is eager to make contact. My mind is blank, and my only thought is “Fuck it!!” An order I’ve heard so many times before that I don’t even question it.
I plant my feet wide, spreading open my massive muscular thighs and leaving my huge cock and balls to dangle freely in front of me. I’m tall enough that the BBQ is at a perfect level for my crotch, and all I have to do is lean forward to plant my huge package on the griddle.
I thrust my muscular hips forward, and suddenly I’m fucking the BBQ. The metal tacks coating the underside of my cock and balls stop my meat from sticking to the hot oily surface, but the intense heat is still readily transferred into my hefty, beefy junk. I can hear hissing as my meat begins to sizzle and cook, and I keep fucking and rocking my hips into the BBQ. The aroma of cooking meat is delicious, and I wonder what my client must be cooking, for it doesn’t register that it’s my own massive meat that’s now on the menu.
Well I’m pretty fucked now. My cock and balls are really ruined, studded with shards of broken glass and metal tacks and roasting on the BBQ. There is no chance in hell they will ever be used for much again. I doubt they are worth the meat they’re made of. I fuck the BBQ and fuck it hard, all while the client is filming me. He is filming my firm muscled arse flexing and straining with each erotic thrust. He is filming my muscled back covered in manly sweat. He is filming my handsome and ecstasy-filled face with the ball gag lodged in my perfect teeth and the drugged out expression. He films my mighty cock and massive bull balls slowly cooking on the BBQ. I feel like the most powerful porn star in the world.
I don’t realize it, of course, but this will be my final porn video, which is being streamed live to the net. Hundreds of guys all over the world are actively watching me as, drug fucked out of my mind, I slowly ruin my own huge meat.
I can finally hold back no longer, and I shoot my last load of cum all over the BBQ. It’s a truly awesome cum load, even for me, and I love it. My entire powerful body shudders with pleasure and glorious release. Despite the cable ties bound around my swollen package – one around the top of my monstrous bull nuts, and the other around the base of my cock and scrotum – the power of my orgasm is so intense that my load somehow forces its way past both barriers. Huge, thick ropes of creamy cum burst out of my cock with great force and intensity, most of my astonishingly thick baby batter shooting nearly all the way across the room, but a good portion also spilling onto the hot plate itself, where it immediately sizzles and congeals almost like egg whites. Blast after blast after blast, a monstrous cum load that has even me impressed, proving that my mighty bull balls are no mere show pieces, but the most powerful, virile stud nuts in the entire porn industry. I’m immensely proud of my bull nuts, even as I am cooking the huge beefy orbs on the BBQ.
After a good 15 or 16 mighty blasts, my orgasm begins to diminish, a few steadily weaker shots barely clearing the sizzling griddle before the final dregs of my super human load belch out of my throbbing bull cock. Even the quantity of cum oozing from my still-pulsing cock is tremendous, more than a normal man can cum in an entire load, and these are just my sloppy leftovers. Damn, but I am one hell of a stud!
My huge, sizzling cock gives one final lurch, and then I slump back, temporarily spent. I fall heavily to my knees in front of the BBQ, breathing heavily from my erotic exertions, my big, heavily muscled body glistening with sweat. Steam is rising from my roasted loins, and my huge cock and massive balls are a dark lobster red and look more than half cooked. My cock is still rock hard and obscenely bloated, both because of the cable tie still strangling the root of my cock and because I am still, incredibly, intensely, impossibly aroused and ready for more.
The handsome, older client places a hand against one of my massive, meaty, sweat- and oil-slick pecs and pushes me backward, forcing me onto my back. I instinctively thrust my hips into the air, shoving my huge, smoking meat and blistering balls forward, proudly offering up my entire package to my handsome client.
The client kneels in front of my smoldering meat and uses a big BBQ fork to start removing the tacks, starting from the base of my cock and working up to the huge, swollen tip before moving on to my balls, abs, chest, and thighs. He expresses a desire to eat my bloated and half-cooked meat. It looks like a big, fat steaming sausage, but he sadly notes that he can’t eat it because it’s filled with shards of broken glass. He remarks that it’s a waste of a tremendous set of genitals, and his praise makes me swell with pride, puffing up my already massive chest and thrusting my meat even more prominently into his face.
I watch in a drugged daze as the client readies a big, fluid-filled jar, the size of one of those big pickle jars you see at a deli, and then grabs an oversized carving knife. He explains that he’s going to cut off my entire package and put it in the jar, and that my preserved meat will forevermore be on proud display in his trophy room. His words make me proud, and I’m excited by the idea of my huge meat fucking a jar for all eternity. He brings the knife forward, placing it against the bottom of my package where the cable tie still has a choking death grip on my huge meat and scrotum, and prepares to make the upward slice that will separate my perfect young man meat from my massively muscular body forever. I’ll never again know the joy of fucking, and I’ll be left as something less than a man.
And right at that moment, I don’t care less.
Timely Rescue
Suddenly, I hear the sound of shattering glass, and a huge man in a dark blue police uniform breaks through the French doors into the room and shouts for the handsome client to put down the knife. The dark-haired officer is a huge stud of a man, really handsome and even bigger than me, a true giant at least 6’6” tall and well over 350 pounds. Even though his uniform, I can see massive muscles bulging and flexing as he trains his gun with both hands on my client. I assume that the officer is another porn actor, and that we’re still filming the porn scene. Man, I’ve worked with some incredibly handsome and studly over the years, but no one quite as overwhelmingly masculine and gorgeous as THIS hot stud! I thrust my hips upward again, almost slicing my own junk off in the process.
The sight of the huge and intensely handsome muscle man is too much for my awesome virility to take, and I spontaneously start shooting a second mammoth load. Massive slugs of cum blast from my cock, shooting 4 or 5 feet straight up into the air before landing with wet and gloopy splat sounds all over my muscular form and the client kneeling before me. My mind is in a fog of pure bliss, and the contractions in my loins are so powerful that I wouldn’t have been surprised to see my own huge bull balls burst out of my cock – the huge orbs feel like they might implode from the intense pressures of orgasm, pulled inside out by the power and force of my massive load.
Even as I pump out this magnificent final orgasm, I calmly watch as the cum-lashed client just smiles at the big officer and once again turns his attention to the knife poised against my straining crotch. He presses the knife up against my meat, and I feel the wickedly sharp edge begin to bite into my skin as the client prepares to unman me.
Then I hear an incredibly loud bang, and see a bright red dot appear on the handsome client’s forehead. His smiling expression remains unchanged, even as blood begins to pour from the new hole in his head. Seconds later, the carving knife clatters loudly to the floor, and the cum-drenched client collapses sideways like a limp doll, sprawling heavily across my massive thigh.
I continue pumping out the greatest orgasm of my life, even bigger than the one from 10 minutes before. The huge handsome cop rushes to my side and kneels next to me on the cum drenched floor. He uses his big, powerful hands to cradle my head, and his stunning blue eyes are full of concern. I smile adoringly at him as the power of my final, monumental load finally exceeds even my powers of endurance, and I mercifully pass out.
****************
Aftermath
Officer Dan Kowalski, my knight in shining dark blue armor, personally rushed me to the emergency room, where a team of doctors immediately set about trying to save my horribly mauled and brutalized sex organs.
The doctors at first saw no hope, for by the obscenely bloated and oversized dimensions of my darkening meat and balls, they assumed that my genitals had already been swollen to morbidity. They decided that the only way to save my life was to cut my mangled genitals off, and they started prepping me for emergency surgery and nullification. It was Officer Kowalski who intervened at the last moment to save my junk for a second time that night, informing the doctors that I am an extraordinarily well-endowed man, and that the monstrous size of my cock and balls was only slightly swollen from their normally gargantuan state.
You see, as it turns out, the extremely handsome, massively built, and uber butch Officer Dan Kowalski was a secret fan of mine.
As I later learned, Officer Kowalski had been on a coffee break at the time of my torture, and was secretly accessing one of his favorite porn sites on his laptop computer, which happened to be one of a dozen sites that was live streaming the destruction of my legendary genitals. The big cop was horrified by what he saw, not only for the horrific subject matter, but also because it was yours truly that was suffering at the hands of a truly twisted client. Dan Kowalski, who was just two years older than me, had been a fan of mine from my earliest days, and he owned every video I had ever made, and had an extraordinary collection of magazines and print photos as well. When he saw that his favorite porn star, the secret source of his manly lusts for more than 7 years, was being tortured and slowly unmanned before his very eyes, he knew he had to immediately spring into action.
Officer Kowalski recognized the handsome older client, who was a prominent member of the wealthy community, and he knew where the man lived. He jumped into his squad car and radioed ahead for back up and medical support, and then broke several land speed records as he raced to the man’s house. And it’s a good thing he did, as he arrived in the nick of time to save me from having my cock and balls sliced off by a crazed and twisted admirer.
But even though Officer Dan Kowalski had arrived in time to save my junk from the chopping block, the question remained whether there was anything left worth saving. My huge horse cock had been raped from the inside by a big rusty screwdriver, my mammoth bull balls had been crushed nearly flat, my junk had been punctured by hundreds of sharp tacks, my cock imbedded with thousands of tiny shards of broken glass, and my entire package had been half cooked on a BBQ. When the medical crew reviewed the video tape, they held very little hope that any part of my genitals could be saved, as they couldn’t imagine anyone’s cock and balls, no matter how huge and oversized, could endure such abuses.
The cable ties had still not yet been cut from my package at this point. The doctors were afraid that my cock and balls were already dead, for they were so dark purple that they were nearly black at this point, and they feared that cutting the cable ties could kill me. But after Officer Kowalski explained how enormously hung I am, he was able to convince the doctors to cut the ties, allowing fresh blood to rush back to my starved genitals. To everyone’s immense relief, the dangerously dark color quickly faded from my cock and balls, but they were still an angry, lobster red from being on the BBQ, and the doctors feared that the scalding heat had cooked too much of my meat to allow any of it to be saved.
Amazingly, though, it turned out that the thick flesh of my cock and balls was still very much alive. As the first critical hours elapsed, it was clear that very little lasting damage had actually been done to my goods. The doctors later concluded that the thumb tacks had actually shielded my cock and balls from the worst of the heat, and that the sheer mass and great thickness of my enormous cock and monster balls had also insulated them from being cooked clear through, as their great size allowed the heat to be dispersed to a far larger volume of tissue than any normal man possessed.
It seemed somehow fitting that the very size of my massive genitals would have played a part in their own salvation.
Within just a few hours after Officer Kowalski had rushed me to the hospital, the doctors realized with growing amazement that I might just survive intact after all.
I was still unconscious, and they kept me sedated as they wheeled me into an emergency room to start the long and very laborious task of extracting the tiny broken shards of glass from the colossal length of my huge member. I was flaccid by now, of course, but even in a soft state, my dick was ridiculously huge. And it was even bigger than normal now, still distended and bloated from hours of being overinflated, so the doctors had a great deal of acreage to cover in their search for broken bits of glass. Fortunately, my cock was so huge that three surgeons were able to work simultaneously along the great length of my bull cock, using large magnifying lenses and tiny tweezers to delicately and thoroughly track down and remove every tiny particle of glass. It took several shifts of doctors and almost six hours to complete the work, but in the end they succeeded in removing every last shred of glass from my lacerated cock.
My cock and balls were soaked in anti-bacterial creams and wrapped in compression bandages, and then I was placed in a private room to heal.
Afterwards, it was just a matter of waiting.
The live video feed of my brutal torture and timely rescue had immediately caused a media firestorm of epic proportions, and my story was national – and international – news for weeks. Not surprisingly, the video itself ended up going viral, and was downloaded unknown millions of times. It would have been the mother of all publicity campaigns, except I was unconscious for a good part of it. The hospital was great about keeping the media at bay, and the doctors held a series of press conferences over the course of the first two weeks to update the media on my progress.
In the meantime, I finally regained consciousness five days after my ordeal, and I awoke to see Officer Kowalski sitting at my bedside. The big, handsome man was wearing civilian clothes, as he had taken time off from work in order to sit by my bedside, where he had apparently been sitting for five straight days without a break.
I slowly opened my eyes, and our eyes instantly met. One look in his gorgeous blue eyes, and I knew I was lost forever, and that he was as well. Just like that, I knew we had fallen in love.
Dan sat by my side, and we talked and talked in the days ahead, getting to know each other and growing closer and closer.
Oh, and for the record, Dan does indeed weigh more than 350 pounds – 365 pounds of grade AAA muscle, to be exact!
Two weeks after my torture, the doctors came in to finally remove the bandages. The deep ache in my cock and balls had long since gone away, and I had no idea what to expect. Dan held my hand as I fearfully watched the doctors unwrap the compression bandages from around my mummified cock and balls. Would my junk be horribly misshapen? Scarred and discolored from lacerations and burning? Would my dick ever function again? Were my balls reduced to sterility? So many questions were about to be answered.
As the bandages fell away, I saw more and more flesh that was pink, healthy, and completely unblemished. Against all hope, when the last wrapping came free, my cock and balls looked completely unharmed! Not a single scratch, scar, or puncture hole marred the length of my bountiful cock or mango-sized balls. Not a single visual reminder remained of my terrible ordeal. The doctors were as astounded as I was.
The remaining question, though, was whether I could still function as a man.
The doctors all filed out of the room with knowing smiles on their faces, and as I turned my questioning eyes to Dan, the big handsome hunk just smiled at me with a twinkle in his baby blues. He leaned forward and kissed me, a gentle, deep, passionate kiss that told me more than words could say – that he loved me, that he would always be there for me, no matter what and no matter whether I could still function or not.
I lost myself in that kiss, showing him how much I loved him in return…and so it was that I almost jumped when I felt Dan’s huge hand reach down and grasp my naked meat. He began to stroke the length of my huge, soft dick, and within a few heartbeats, that big cock proved its might by starting to swell into steely hardness. In half a dozen more heartbeats, swelling so fast that it almost hurt, my cock was inflated to its full, eye-popping size, pulsing gently to my racing heartbeat.
One half of the question was now answered – now all that remained was to discover if my balls were still capable of whipping up the vast quantities of sperm that they were world famous for, or whether I was effectively a eunuch, with balls that were still attached but that had been rendered sterile by the brutal crushing and cooking.
Dan's hands were so huge that his fingers could very nearly encircle the tremendous girth of my massive cock, and he used those big, thick, strong fingers to excellent advantage, jerking my huge cock slowly but with tremendous power and control. My toes began to curl, and I slowly and rhythmically bucked my muscular hips in time to Dan's stroking. I didn't know if my balls were going to work, but my ability to get aroused was definitely working just fine!
The feeling of this beautiful man's massive paw stroking my swollen love muscle was indescribable. Not like the drug-induced euphoria I had experienced two week prior, but the awesome, erotic connection created between two people who love each other.
I found myself holding back, terrified that I might not be able to function, that I would not be able to make love with Dan like I truly wanted to. But soon I realized that Dan’s expert ministrations were having their effect and I couldn’t hold back any longer. With a cry of fear and ecstasy and utter release, I began to cum.
Dan was pointing my cock down toward the foot of the bed as my orgasm hit, and thus it was that my first slug of cum shot out nearly horizontal to the floor. The first mighty blast of splooge was so powerful that it struck the wall almost a dozen feet away, hitting with a loud splat and making a huge, gloopy white stain on the wall. A second mighty blast quickly followed, and then a third and fourth and fifth in an orgasm that was quickly proving to be every bit as massive and powerful as my last one two weeks before.
In the end, I shot almost two dozen tremendous ropes of cum, nearly all of which struck the far wall. By the end of my orgasm, a huge portion of the wall was virtually white-washed with my seed, proving that my balls were intact and more than ready to play.
Dan was so turned on my the fierceness and sheer volume of my load that he came in his own pants, completely untouched, and filled the front of his pants with his own massive load of sticky white spunk.
It took both of us a while to come down from that first explosive time together, and when the doctors came back in the room some 10 or 15 minutes later, they still found us locked in a lover’s embrace, with my cock still ramrod hard and Dan’s huge fingers still wrapped tight around it. It was the muffled gasps from the doctors when they saw the volume of my spunk painting the far wall that finally made us realize that we were no longer alone, and one look at the doctors’ stunned faces set Dan and I off into gales of laughter.
One of the doctors took a sample of my thick, gamey sperm off of the wall and analyzed it in the lab, and my final fear was relieved – my sperm count was literally off the charts, proving that I was not only still virile, I was perhaps the most virile man that had ever lived.
I guess I’m not that surprised by the test results, but they still make me inordinately proud. And who knows, maybe I’ll even be a father someday, so it’s nice to know that my balls still pack a wallop.
****************
Dan is now an inseparable part of my life, and he is helping me put my life back together.
He has helped me start a recovery program for my drug addiction, and I’m doing really well. I think that my encounter with a crazed torturer counts as hitting rock bottom, so I am very motivated to get healthy again.
Dan also has me working out again, which we do in our own private gym. The media frenzy has died down a bit, but I suspect it will never totally go away, so the idea of me working out in any kind of public gym is now out of the question. Besides, working out with this massive stud of a man who I love so much is incredibly erotic, and our workout sessions always end with us rolling around naked on the floor and coating the walls with our thick man cream.
The most bizarre twist in this whole ordeal has been the aftermath of the death of my final client, Mr. Charles Addison. It turns out that in the weeks before my encounter with him, he had had his will legally altered to make me the sole inheritor of his entire estate! No one could believe it, least of all me, but after a short court proceeding, the will was determined to be entirely legal and binding, and so I am now a multi-billionaire and set for life. I now own properties in a dozen major cities, a fortune in stocks, and a whole wealth of other assets that I’m still trying to get my head around.
Go figure!
So after all that I’ve been through – a ruined career, drug addiction, torture, and a near gelding – I’ve been given a second chance at life. I have my health, I have wealth, and most importantly, I have Dan.
And I plan on making every moment count.
