Gaston: an intimidating specimen

by Greg

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Added: 1 May 2006 17,189 words 29,264 views 4.2 stars (11 votes)

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Gaston untangled himself from the Cronies and stood proudly over the scene of battle. On the table the four men (Dick, Tom, Harry and Stanley) lay in a groaning pile of bruised limbs and blacked eyes, having just had the shit well and truly kicked out of them.

Gaston smirked and puffed out his enormous chest, feeling flush at his own ability to beat four grown men into pathetic submission without incurring a single scratch himself. It had been necessary really; earlier that little ass-wipe Lefou had thrown a mug of beer all over him (accidentally but what did that matter?) so Gaston had been forced to send him bouncing off the ceiling with a mighty thump of his huge fist. After that the only polite thing to do was extend the same courtesy to his other supporters and reclaim his manhood by kicking their assess too.

Thus far the whole evening in the hot, smoky, pack-out tavern had been the same; an opportunity for Gaston to re-establish his pride after his humiliation at the hands of Belle earlier that day. And it was working beautifully; it was amazing how a bit of bragging, fighting and flexing could remind everyone who was top dog.

Gaston now scanned the tavern for his next feat. His eyes passed over the crowds of adoring faces and fell on a small wooden bench on which sat the three blond barmaids who were constantly swooning over him. They sat giggling to each other, casting coy glances his way. Gaston had never taken the trouble to learn their names so he always thought of them as 'Red, Green and Gold' after the colours they always wore.

But tonight, he thought, they'll be screaming out MY name in their dreams.

With that he stomped off towards them, the ground quaking under his size 20 feet. The crowded throng of the tavern followed close behind to see what diabolical display of muscle and strength he was about to unleash next.

At the sight of the huge hunter's approach, the girls started whispering and giggling with renewed vigour. On any day of their lives they would have sold their souls for a second glance from this bronzed bull of a man, and tonight they had already seen him snap a leather belt with his giant neck muscles, hit an incredibly double- bicep pose and beat four stout men hands down in a wrestling match. They were having trouble not to touch themselves at the mere thought of him. The same could be said for most of the men too!

"He's coming over here!" squeaked Green.

"Be cool" whispered Red, not sure she was able to achieve this herself, "Let me do the talking." She could see that Gaston was in the kind of pumped up mood where all he wanted to do was show off his huge muscular body, and she and her sisters very much wanted to be a part of that.

Gaston stopped a couple of feet in front of the bench, casting a shadow like an oak tree over the three girls. The watermelon-sized bulge in his crotch, nestled between two mammoth meaty thighs, was now level with their faces.

"Hey girls" he said peering down, a boyish smirk spreading over his gorgeous, manly features, "Couldn't help but notice you were talking about me. Like what you see, do ya?"

Red, the boldest of the three, gazed up at the 7'2" musclegod in front of her.

"We were just saying that in all of France, there's no one as burly and brawny," she drawled sexily.

The whole tavern whooped and cheered at this observation. Gaston's manly grin widened further. He threw back his boulder-shoulders with pride to emphasise the immensity of his chest. His massive pecs strained against the fabric of his tight red shirt, the hairy canyon between the two slabs of beef visible through the open neck.

"You better believe it" he smirked and walked around to the back of the bench. He now had the three girl's backs and asses to him. He bent over, his remarkably round, beefy bubble butt stretching the seat of his pants so tight over his ass that the seams groaned.

The crowd moved closer; what the hell was he up to? The girls were clearly thinking the same thing. They tried to turn round to see what was going on.

"Eyes forward, ladies" Gaston commanded, his deep manly voice forceful but with a hint of humour. Giggling the girls did as they were told, but continued to whisper between themselves.

Gaston now clamped his dinner-plate sized paws on the underside of the bench, under Green and Red's asses. The Cronies had finally come round from their beating and had tottered over to where Gaston crouched ready.

Gaston looked to the left and right and flashed his audience one last wicked grin. Then, with an animal grunt, he heaved the bench, babes and all, 3 feet into the air, his gargantuan biceps and triceps bulging with the effort. He moved his right hand from the edge of the bench to the middle, positioning it under Gold's ass. Taking the full weight on his right arm, he stood up straight, practically throwing his load of bench and babe over his head with one hand, his left arm falling unused to his side. He continued to lift his cargo until his right arm was fully extended. Then, with expert balance, he turned the bench smoothly around to better face his spectators.

The three girls let out a girly, giggly squeak of surprise and utter delight as they zoomed upward, totally helpless against the power of this titanic muscle brute. Up, up, up they rose until they stopped 10 feet above the ground, the whole tavern and the upturned faces of the astonished crowd stretched out far below them.

A huge cheer erupted from the audience at this inhuman display of power. They gawped, slack jawed, at the sight of this massive muscle mountain effortlessly lifting three pretty girls over his head with one hand, the weight not even resting on his palm but on the tips of his thick, meaty fingers.

Within an instant, there wasn't a soft cock in the house! The Cronies especially were packing major wood as they stared with utter awe at this amazing show of power and strength. And what strength! There he stood, 400lbs of solid beef, his baby blue eyes flashing around the tavern, winking at his audience, an almost manic look on his beautiful face, casually lifting over 350lbs of girl flesh and oak bench just because he could.

"Oh Gaston, put us down you big brute!" the girls squealed with false protest, this of course being the last thing in the world they wanted.

"Never!" boomed Gaston, "You're up there until I say otherwise"

The crowd roared with laughter and approving cheers.

"Hey, check this out," exclaimed Gaston, raising his free left hand, "As you see I've got biceps to spare!"

At this announcement, the girls craned over to gaze down on the muscle monster that lifted them, swinging their legs prettily in the gulf of space between them and the floor so far below.

Gaston now started flexing his left biceps, his knuckles facing away from his face in a 'cobra' pose. He raised his meaty, hairy forearm up and down, causing his massive, pumpkin-sized biceps to bulge, bunch and relax, bulge, bunch and relax, his equally enormous and impressive triceps doing the same. The arm material of his tight shirt stretched dangerously under the pressure of the immense brawn beneath.

Again the crowd exploded with cheers. The girls squealed again. Those arms! They must have been 28 inches of solid muscle and looked as hard as marble, thick veins snaking all over.

"Fuck me! Just look at these guns! You ever seen biceps like these before?" boasted Gaston.

He continued to flex his mammoth biceps, so enthralled by his own intimidating musculature that it was almost as if he had forgotten that over his head he casually lifted three grown women and a sturdy oak bench.

The crowd began to fall quieter now, entranced by all the bulging, flexing arm muscle that Gaston was displaying. He switched poses, employing the more traditional bicep pose. His whole arm exploded with muscle, the enormous bicep incredibly round and full yet beautifully peaked at the top. That arm must have been closer to 30 inches around!

"Think you might have to wring your panties out after this, girls!" Gaston guffawed.

"Oh Gaston, you're sooooo strong!" drawled the girls, peeping down on the mighty stud as he continued to endlessly flex his colossal biceps.

"You know it!" he grinned widely, flashing a mouth full of perfect, sparkling teeth. "Hey, do you mind if I use you to workout while you're up there? I mean, this bench is no where near as heavy as I'm used to but I'll make do!"

With that, he started pumping the bench, girls and all, up and down, up and down over his head. Gaston was using the girls to pump up his biceps! The girls squealed again as every cock of every spectator grew another inch. The Cronies moaned with desire.

Pump pump pump. Gaston's right arm began to explode with veins as he pumped his 25 stone load overhead like it was the smallest dumbbell on the rack.

"Hey, are you still up there, ladies?" he cried, "This fucking bench feels like NOTHING! Hey, bet you didn't think you were going to be treated to this?" he roared, "Three babes tossed about by a HUGE musclestud!"

"No, we never dreamed we'd be this lucky!" cried Red, turning to her sisters who were practically having an orgasm where they sat.

Gaston continued to pump for another two minutes and then, displaying amazing balance, swapped his load over to his left hand and started pumping with that one.

Audience and girls alike gawped as he now flexed his right arm, which had an amazing pump on it from lifting the bench over and over for the last 5 minutes. His biceps and triceps exploded with thick veins as he flexed.

"Oh Gaston, you're a GOD!" cried the girls in unison as he flexed, pumped and smirked for another 3 minutes.

By this time Lefou had come round from having bounced of the ceiling. He wobbled over, the same look of awe and astonishment on his face as the rest of the crowd, his hard-on stretching out his pants.

He positioned himself at Gaston's side, the bench and the three girls still rising and falling precariously above at the hands of the mighty huntsman. Lefou didn't even come up to Gaston's waist.

"It's like I always say," proclaimed Lefou, eyeing Gaston's soccer ball-sized biceps lustily, "Not a bit of him's scraggly or scrawny!"

Gaston looked down at the pathetic little creature at his side.

Ass-licker, he thought to himself and, with a wicked grin, let go of the bench. It plummeted to earth in a blur of flying skirts and blond hair and landed with a mighty crash right on top of Lefou. Despite having just fallen 10 feet, the girls looked quite unscathed and merely giggled to one another as they gazed up on the object of their desires. The crowd cheered yet again.

"You're right though, Lefou!" boomed Gaston, addressing the prone form of the concussed little runt under the bench, "and every last inch of me's covered with hair!"

With that he grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands and tore it open. He pulled the tattered shirt completely off him and tossed it aside to reveal two colossal, hairy pecs. Each was the size of a patio slab and jutted easily 8" from his body. Gaston's chest was a mighty monument to muscularity.

The thick hair that covered his pecs was sweaty and beautifully matted from the 'workout' and emphasised, rather than covered up, the mighty mounds of beef. Beads of sweat were making their way down from his thick neck and either snaking down the furry rock face of muscle or channelling down the hairy, rippling canyon between the two slabs of meat. The whole tavern was filled with the sweet stink of his musky muscle sweat.

In an instant the girls were on their feet, nerves quite forgotten, moaning with lust, their eager hands stroking every inch of Gaston's gigantic upper body. Red and Gold went straight for the pecs, caressing the prodigious slabs of beef. Red ran her hands down and around the outside whilst Gold ran her figures up and down the sweaty, sinewy crevice in the middle.

Meanwhile Green was fondling his right biceps and boulder-shoulder. She ran her fingers up and down his almighty arm, an arm that only a few moments ago had been lifting them so effortlessly. She cupped both hands around his biceps and caressed the rock-hard meat longingly. It would have taken six of her hands at least to even come close to going round the width of his entire arm.

The girls continued worshiping Gaston's bulging body, kissing, tonguing and licking every inch of muscle they could find, not that they had far to look.

"Steady on ladies!" laughed Gaston, loving every second of it, "There's PLENTY to go around!"

The crowd ogled, cocks hard as rock at this blatant muscle worship.

"Put your hands here" Gaston told the girls, pointing to his exquisite, hairy, coaster-sized nipples. The girls gleefully obeyed, planting their hands where instructed, plenty of room for all three.

Grinning, Gaston started bouncing his massive pecs up and down up and down left right left right boom boom boom. His massive left pec slab bulged and rippled then relaxed as the right bunched and flexed and then the left again. Back and forth they bounced, the girls squealing with delight, as their hands were hopeless buffeted and bumped around by the enormous mounds of hairy undulating brawn beneath. Their hands were like six little white ships caught in a vast raging sea of hairy, bouncing pec muscle.

"Watch this for muscle control!" he cried and started whistling the 'Can Can', expertly dancing his pecs back and forth with the rhythm, each bounce corresponding perfectly with a note of the tune. The whole tavern roared.

Gaston continued to bounce his pecs for another minute and then abruptly stopped, which was met by a cry of protest from the girls. A look of intense concentration passed over his manly features, his eyes narrowing. He looked like he had just caught a whiff of a fart. But it wasn't a fart he'd smelled, but cum. One of his audience of loving spectators had blown their load.

Gaston pushed through the girls and stood, hands on hips, in front of the throng.

"Who's creamed their pants?" he demanded, a stern look on his face, one eyebrow raised. He looked unbelievably gorgeous with this expression on his face.

The crowd murmured and shuffled uncomfortably. Gaston scanned the crowd and then saw the culprit. Dick, the biggest of the Cronies, was standing staring at him slack jawed, a pretty impressive bulge in his pants accompanied by a huge sticky wet patch of cum. Gaston could see that Dick had clearly forgiven him for biting his leg during the wrestling match earlier, or at least his cock had.

Gaston stooped and picked up the bench with one hand, on which he'd lifted the girls. He advanced on Dick with three huge strides that shook the entire tavern. As he approached, he squeezed the bench in his hand, snapping it in two like a toothpick. He tossed the two pieces of wood at Dicks feet, who stood looking terrified but somehow incredibly turned on at the same time. His face was bright red.

"You like watching me bounce my pecs?" asked Gaston slyly. He bounced his pecs again fast and furious. A fleck of muscle sweat flew off the right mound of meat and landed on Dick's cheek. He didn't wipe it off, but stood there gawping.

"You like watching me show off my superhuman strength?" Gaston pushed. Again Dick just stood there, mouth slightly open. Every eye in the inn was on the two men now.

"You like my big muscles?" asked Gaston.

"N…No" stuttered Dick.

Gaston looked down at Dick's bulging crotch. "Your hard-on and that big wet patch of jizz you've unloaded in your pants just by watching me kinda say's otherwise." Gaston grinned and casually slid into his second magnificent double bicep pose of the evening.

"Oh my God" whispered Dick.

"It's OK man, don't worry. I'm not mad. I'd kinda think you were mad if you weren't turned on by this much muscle and power on show."

"You're just so…..huge…… strong….." garbled Dick turning puce now.

"You think that's strong?!" laughed Gaston, indicting the ruined bench at their feet with a nod of his head, "I've taken dumps bigger than those three chicks put together!"

He looked over his shoulder and winked at the girls, "No offence ladies!" he grinned. The girls giggled to one another.

Gaston turned back to the terrified Dick.

"Believe me, you ain't seen NOTHING yet!"

Gaston's eyes wandered down, apparently eyeing Dick's cummy crotch again. In fact Gaston was looking just north, to an enormously thick leather belt around Dick's waist.

Gaston looked up, smirking with one eyebrow devilishly raised.

"Your belt", he commanded, "take it off!"

"I said take off your fucking belt," ordered Gaston dangerously.

Dick was still gaping before the oversized huntsman, his cock as rigid as before.

"I won't ask you again," said Gaston, lowering his voice threateningly.

With this, Dick remembered himself and started frantically undoing the enormous belt that circumnavigated his prodigious gut.

"Faster!" barked Gaston.

Dick's fingers fumbled with the buckle, "But it's my… best belt… ONLY belt…" he trailed off.

Gaston threw back his head, accentuating his impossibly thick neck, and snorted, "WAS your best belt!" he corrected cruelly.

Dick finally managed to unfasten the belt and pulled it free from the loopholes around the waist of his trousers. Gaston snatched it off him. He held the buckle in one hand and the tapered end in the other. The belt was enormous, much thicker than the one he had obliterated with his outrageously thick neck earlier that evening. It was two inches wide and had a huge brass buckle that was fastened with two pins instead of one. The leather was of the best quality, thick and expertly cured for extra strength.

Gaston brought his fists together and then pulled them apart again three times, causing the belt between to flex and crack.

"You're right, Dick," nodded Gaston approvingly, "This IS a good belt. A belt like this will hold the weight of five grown men easy before giving an inch."

"They test the leather with horses," Dick ventured meekly, "You know, tie a length of leather between two stallions and get them to pull in opposite directions. The leather never breaks."

"Is that so?!" grinned Gaston, clearly seeing this as not merely an interesting aside but as a full-blown challenge, "I'm not going to be outdone by a couple of fucking ponies!"

Several spectators whooped at this statement, met by a satisfied nod from Gaston.

He tossed the belt back to Dick, "Fasten it around this," he instructed, extending his gigantic right arm straight out towards him, "And make sure it's really tight."

Dick hesitated.

"I tell you what," drawled Gaston slyly, "I promise to return it to you afterwards. That fair?"

Dick nodded uncertainly and wearily approached the colossal arm. A blast of sweet muscle sweat hit him as he came near Gaston's big, hairy armpit. Up close Dick fully appreciated the enormity of Gaston's body. Even relaxed, his forearm was thicker than Dick's thighs, to say nothing of his ridiculously buff biceps and triceps. Un-flexed Gaston's arm shamed the trunk of an Old English Oak. A hush fell over the tavern, every man watching intently.

"Come on!" barked Gaston again, "And make sure the buckle is at the top," pointing to his chiselled bicep peak that looked like it had been carved out of marble.

Dick reached around the enormous width of Gaston's arm and fed the tapered end through the big buckle at the opposite end. He pulled the slack through until the buckle rested perfectly on the rippling summit.

"Tighter!" commanded Gaston.

Dick did as he was told, pulling the belt as far as it would go through the buckle. When it would go no further, he pushed the two big pins through the nearest holes, these being by no means the smallest settings.

As Dick secured the belt, his fingers brushed the taught, hot, sweaty muscle of Gaston's muscular arm. It felt like granite. Dick stepped away, stooped due to his massive erection.

"Nicely done," said Gaston, inspecting Dick's work.

The crowd murmured with anticipation, all cocks like rock. Surely Gaston wasn't going to try to…, he would be lucky to move his arm at all, let alone…..

They didn't have long to wait to find out.

Gritting his teeth slightly, Gaston clenched his mammoth fist and began to slowly raise his giant forearm up into a bicep flex, the enormous muscle swelling against its leathery prison. The crowd moaned with wonder as the huge belt began to stretch as the immense biceps and triceps beneath bunched.

"Ah yeah! Here we go!" exclaimed Gaston, his own eyes, like those of everyone else, fixed on the belt.

The belt continued to stretch under the enormous pressure of Gaston's biceps, the leather creaking, the eyelets elongating and widening into gaping oval holes under the stress.

Gaston's forearm was now at a 45-degree angle, his arm gigantic with veins exploding everywhere. A thick bead of sweat coursed down from his sweaty armpit.

"Yeah, feels so fucking good!" moaned Gaston, an adorable beam of boyish pride on his face, like a young lad getting his first full erection.

The width of the belt, which had been easily two inches, had now been stretched to less than one inch by the muscle and power Gaston's freaky arm provided.

"Check it out, guys! Look at the buckle!" Gaston exclaimed excitedly.

Every eye shot to the big brass buckle that Dick had positioned over Gaston's bicep peak, a collective 'wow' rising up as they watched the metal warp under the strain, moulding perfectly to the shape of the muscle apex below. Dick winced to see his only belt being destroyed, even though he was in danger of unloading in his pants again. Several guys shuddered and moaned as they creamed themselves.

Gaston raised his forearm another inch. His bicep swelled again in response whilst the leather creaked and stretched. The width of leather was now barely half an inch in places, stretched to snapping point by Gaston's outrageous right gun.

Everyone could see now that Gaston could annihilate this belt whenever he wanted, but was edging for added effect. Little could they imagine at this moment in time that they would be watching Gaston doing some 'edging' of a different kind later that night!

Meanwhile the riveted seams that fastened the leather to the now ruined buckle were groaning dangerously. The belt had very little fight left in it now.

"Wait a minute!" cried Gaston, "I'm not gonna have anyone say I had it easy because it broke on a seam!"

He un-flexed his arm and held it out straight as before. The leather and the crowd sighed as one, the former in relief, and the latter in disappointment.

"Dick! Here! Now!" barked Gaston.

Dick had learned not to keep Gaston waiting. He was by his side in an instant.

"Turn this fucking piece of crap around NOW!" he ordered, indicating a length of belt near his massive triceps that had been least stretched by all the muscle flexing.

Dick began turning the belt around on Gaston's extended arm. This should have been quite easy, given that the belt had been hopeless stretched. However due to Gaston's arm having such an incredible pump of it from the flexing and the leather sticking to the beads of muscle sweat that now covered the bulging brawn, it was anything but easy.

With a great effort Dick managed to get the expanse of thicker, less compromised leather up onto Gaston's bicep peak as before, his cock swelling as his fingers again brushed the honed beef.

Dick stepped away as Gaston, arm still relaxed, addressed the overawed spectators.

"Can I get a count down from five please, gentlemen?!" requested Gaston with a gorgeously crooked smile.

The crowd cheered their approval, clearly seeing where this was going.

"Here we go then! And…FIVE!" Gaston began and raised his meaty fist a little, his biceps bunching.

"FOUR!" boomed the crowd, taking Gaston's lead.

Gaston flexed a little harder, the belt screaming under the strain.


Gaston's forearm was at 45 degrees again, his biceps titanic under the belt.


Gaston gritted his teeth but grinned at the same time. His biceps we nearly fully flexed now, the muscle barely contained by the quivering, taught leather… was going…..going…..

"ONE!!!" screamed the crowd.

"AHHHH!" yelled Gaston, fully flexing his gargantuan arm. His biceps exploded with size and veins as the strong leather belt finally gave up the fight.

With a 'BANG!' like a shotgun, the perfect peak of Gaston's biceps blasted through the leather, snapping the belt like liquorice. The belt rocketed to earth like a slingshot and blasted into the wooden floor with sufficient force to dent the oaken boards.

The spectators roared their approval as Gaston stood holding the magnificent bicep pose that had just been the death of Dick's prize accessory. The crowd continued to cheer as he lovingly admired the pump of his own freaky arm. Inclining his head, he planted a slow, sensual kiss right on the pumped up crest of his biceps, his full lips tasting the salty musk of his own man sweat.

"One arm, stronger than two fucking prize stallions!" laughed Gaston, shaking his head with disbelief. The cronies moaned longingly.

Gaston flexed for another minute and then stooped to pick up the obliterated belt at his feet. It was now a shadow of what it had been, the bent buckle fastened in the centre with the two snapped pieces at either end. The leather had been stretched to a quarter of it's original width, the eyelets wide enough for a man's finger to push through.

Gaston admired his handiwork and then tossed the sorry thing back to Dick.

"There you go, your best belt, returned to you as promised!" Gaston said, a cruel grin on his handsome features, "And now you have two!"

The crowd exploded with laughter as if this was the height of wit whilst Dick looked down miserably at the ruined belt in his hand.

"Cheer up, little man," grinned Gaston ruefully, "Just think, you can look at that to remind you how fucking big and strong I am when you're jerking off about me tonight!"

At this observation, Dick smiled happily and pocketed the belt for this very purpose later.

"Right," smiled Gaston, his eyes scanning the tavern as before, "What next?!"

His beautiful eyes continued to scrutinize the tavern. They fell at last on the huge fireplace next to which his equally huge chair rested. But it wasn't the chair Gaston had spied. Something in the fire, or rather by the side of it, had caught his eye.

Grinning he stomped over to the open fireplace, swinging his shoulders arrogantly with every strut and extending the crowd, that followed close behind, a stunning view of his barn door-wide back and lats. With each cocky, swaggering step, an astonishing array of massive back muscles bulged and rippled just beneath the flawless skin, jostling for space. It was like watching Christmas hams gliding beneath a sea of mercury.

Gaston reached the fireplace and bent over, the crowd eyeing his bubble butt achingly as it ballooned against the seat of his pants. He picked up three cast-iron pokers that rested in a cylinder on the ashy crate. Straightening up, he turned and held them out for the audience to see.

The three pokers were two feet in length and had a spiralled cast- iron shaft for greater strength. Each poker had the same 'bobble' handle at one end, a ball of solid iron. The other ends of the pokers varied according to each ones respective purpose. One had a simple spike, the second, a small shovel and the third, a brush. They were clearly old, very well made and had endured years of usage without a scratch.

Gaston held the three pokers in one huge fist by their handles so the three different 'heads' stuck up straight. Without the slightest effort, he snapped the brush end off the one poker with the thumb and forefinger of his free hand. That went straight in the fire. Then he broke off the shuffle end of the other poker and crushed it in his giant fist. The shovel crumpled like a paper cup. That too followed its brother into the flames.

The crowd gasped in amazement. Pierre, the landlord, winced to see more of his property being destroyed by the big muscle brute. He had already lost a good oak bench tonight and now it looked like his sturdy little poker set, which had survived intact all these years, was about to bite the dust as well. Even with this depressing thought in mind, his cock was as stiff as one of the iron pokers clamped in Gaston's mighty grip.

"Fucking pieces of crap!" scoffed Gaston, looking down at the two ruined poker heads he had just snapped off and committed to the fire. He now grabbed the three pokers with both hands, the bobble handles in one massive paw and the three pointed ends in the other.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding!" someone shouted out from the back, clearly sensing what Gaston had in mind, "That's three, THREE cast- iron pokers!"

The audience hooted heartily.

"Gaston is twice as strong as Hercules!" chimed Gold over in the corner, her sisters nodding wildly in agreement.

"You're damn right, ladies," chuckled Gaston cockily, "Check this out!"

His giant arms and barrel chest bulging with the effort, he carelessly bent the three thick lengths of iron held between his hands, bringing his huge fists down and together, to meet before his rippling abdominals. The iron creaked like a rusty gate caught in the wind, as all three lengths creased in the centre, the thick spiralled metal offering no discernable resistance against the mighty force of Gaston's huge body. His paws met just below his pecs, the three pokers now bent completely over, six shorter lengths of warped iron touching each other. Gaston grinned widely to the crowd; he hadn't even broken a sweat.

"Fuck me!" yelled a voice from the crowd. Other voices joined in with flabbergasted praise.

"Maybe later!" guffawed Gaston, grinning widely, looking down now at the twisted metal in his hands, "But that was just the warm up act!"

He now took hold of the lump of iron with both hands as before, though of course his fists were now much closer together, being that the lengths of iron were now so much shorter.

"No fucking way! He can't, you'd have to be a fucking GOD!" piped up a slight but handsome young man standing at the front of the crowd.

"Guess I'm a 'fucking god' then!" smirked Gaston and turned his attention to the iron. The tavern was silent.

He rolled his head back and forth a couple of times in preparation, his gigantic neck bulging. Setting his jaw, he extended his hands out straight in front of his chest…..and started bending.

Every muscle in Gaston's massive upper body exploded with size, swelling to inhuman proportions. His biceps and triceps swelled like sacks of pumpkins, his boulder-shoulders inflating like two air balloons. Traps bigger than most men's shoulders erupted with mass and veins as Gaston's neck expanded. His mighty pecs pumped up so much they threatened to collide with his big cleft chin. A snarl of concentration and massive effort crossed Gaston's gorgeous face, veins standing out on his forehead. The iron wasn't giving.

"Come on, you bastard!" he snarled, willing the ridiculously thick lump of iron between his fists to give.

"Bend! Bend! Bend! Bend! BEND!" the handsome lad chanted, the crowd quickly following his lead. Suddenly the whole tavern was manically roaring with the absurd chant. Even Pierre was joining in, despite it being his property that was being decimated.


This chanting seemed to spur Gaston on as never before. He gritted his teeth and let out a huge, animal grunt of power and exertion.

"AHHHHHHH!" he bellowed as the iron finally succumbed to the immense pressure and bent in the middle as before, the metal screaming like a rusty gate caught in a gale. As Gaston's fists slammed together, a huge wave of cheers and clapping blasted from the audience.

Panting slightly, Gaston took the mess of twisted iron in his right hand; it was now twelve lengths thick, having been doubled over twice. Then he squeezed, his biceps bulging hugely as his meaty fingers tightened on the metal. The chaos of matted iron, that had only recently been three strong, finely made pokers, melded together even more into what was no more than a solid lump of bent iron, the previously rounded handles warping to Gaston's fingers like dough.

Gaston held the sorry lump of metal aloft, "Feel free to cream your boxers, gents!" he boomed, looking proudly up at contorted ball of iron. A dozen erect cocks duly obliged, including that of the landlord.

"There we go," he tossed the ball of warped iron to Dick, who stood opened mouthed, "Some more 'wank off' material for you to go with that belt!"

Dick beamed and grasped the ball like it was the Holy Grail.

"FUCK! That felt so GOOD!" cried Gaston, leaning forwards into a truly magnificent most-muscular pose, bringing his enormous fists together in front of his bulging hairy pecs. The pump on his muscles was incredible; he was suddenly nothing but bulging pecs, biceps and traps. His hairy torso was matted with muscle sweat

"Is it hot in here, or is it just me!" Gaston grinned as he straightened up from his amazing muscle flex, the crowd erupting in laughter, "All that metal bending has made my ass sweat something rotten. Mind if I 'air it out' a little, fellas?!"

Before the tavern even had a chance to cheer their approval, Gaston had turned his mammoth back on the crowd again and was unbuttoning the fly of his impossibly tight leather pants. The crowd didn't have long to enjoy the sight of the muscular butt encased in leather as a moment later, Gaston had dropped his trousers below his butt cheeks. A groan of desire arose from the inn as Gaston's magnificent ass immerged above the belt line of the leather pants. He wasn't wearing any underwear!

Two of the roundest, tightest, meatiest, beefiest, hottest globes of perfect manly bubble butt now met the eyes of the adoring onlookers. Beads of sweat covered the two muscular hams, accompanied by a nice covering of sweaty, matted hair; not too little, not too much. Gaston's ass was beautifully dimpled at the sides without spoiling the incredibly pert roundness. It curved beautifully in all the right places, not too big, not too small. It was without doubt the hottest ass the crowd had ever imagined, let alone seen.

"Now that's an ASS!" boomed Gaston, swaying his hips from side to side, causing his great ass cheeks to bulge and flex as they swayed, "There's more muscle in one of these big butt cheeks than in any of you guy's whole bodies!"

"No argument here!" a voice piped up. The audience bellowed.

"Wanna see me do this?" With that Gaston started flexing his butt, the huge muscle mounds contracting together and relaxing over and over.

"I can crack fucking marbles between these things! Hey, you guys ever seen an ass 'bounce'?" he asked, looking over his shoulder and grinning. The crowd whooped.

Gaston started whistling the 'Can Can' as he had done before when bouncing his pecs, but now it was his ass cheeks that bounced. The crowd gawped as Gaston expertly flexed one huge butt muscle and then the other alternatively, dancing the sweaty mounds of beef perfectly to the rhythm as he had done so easily with his giant chest. This was muscle control on an entirely new level.

"Just look at that!" moaned the handsome young guy at the front of the throng. A second later his cock unloaded, filling up his pants with cream.

Gaston stopped bouncing his ass cheeks. He looked over his shoulder at the young guy and smirked, "You wanna touch this big muscle ass, don't ya?"

"Oh GOD yes!" he drawled in a voice that was as dripping with cum as his bulging crotch. The tavern exploded with laughs and cheers

"Be my guest!" said Gaston sexily, and bent over a little, sticking his awesome ass out towards the hopelessly turned on young man. The guy approached the two sweaty soccer ball-sized mountains of beef with shuffling footsteps, hampered a little by his hard-on. Gaston watched his approach over his shoulder, smiling ruefully. The tavern was deadly silent.

"That's right, have a squeeze of my big muscle ass!" coaxed Gaston, sticking his ass out a little further still, accentuating the roundness even more.

"Why don't you run your fingers up and down my sweaty butt crack first, eh?"

The boy gulped. He stopped three feet from Gaston's butt and extended a quivering hand slowly. Gaston peered over his shoulder, and raised his eyebrow devilishly. The boy's hand was now a few inches from Gaston's ass. The tavern was so silent, you could have heard a mouse fart…..well, not just a mouse…..

A massive foghorn fart blasted from Gaston's muscle butt, the surprise, and the sheer force of hot man gas, knocking the boy backwards and off his feet. The crowd erupted into cheers as never before.

"Thanks for sharing!" someone called, followed by hearty laughs from the bystanders.

Gaston straightened up, pulling his pants back up over his ass. He was laughing almost uncontrollably, "Sorry little man, couldn't resist!" he snorted, looking back over his shoulder at the young man who was trying to pick himself up off the floor, obstructed by his massive hard-on.

Gaston now turned back to face the crowd, fanning his ass with his huge right hand as he did so. Many of the throng were also fanning their hands in front of their faces, though Gaston noted smugly that they were fanning TOWARDS their noses, rather than away.

"Fuck me, that stinks!" he exclaimed proudly, getting his first whiff of the enormous fart. The whole tavern now reeked of the manly stink of Gaston's ass, which mingled with the stench of his muscle sweat and of the cum of those spectators who had already unloaded.

"Still, when you eat five dozen eggs a day, what do you expect!" he snorted, rubbing his hand lovingly over his cut, perfectly chiselled, hairy, sweaty eight-pack stomach.

Several more men shuddered as they came in their pants.

Then something caught Gaston's eye. Over in the corner, all four of his cronies were non-too discretely rubbing their massive erections through the fabric of their pants.

In three huge, swaggering footsteps, Gaston had cleared the space between them and stood, hands on his tight 30-inch waist, gazing down on them. The cronies immediately stopped stroking themselves at the massive hunter's arrival.

"Were you jerking off right in front of me?" asked Gaston, his voice dangerously low, one eyebrow raised. Almost absentmindedly, he bounced his pecs back and forth whilst he waited for someone to answer.

Tom, a tall wiry man stepped forward, tearing his eyes away from the undulating pec meat before him, "We couldn't help it, you're just so….." he trailed off.

"Buff?" ventured Gaston, leaning into another monstrous most-muscular pose, his bountiful delts and traps bunching massively.

"I'd say 'built like a brick shithouse' myself," corrected Harry, a short but stout little guy who was sporting an absurdly huge erection for a man his size.

Gaston smirked.

"We're sorry!" squeaked Stanley, the eldest of the four, though he had a good build and was sporting an erection equally as impressive as those of his younger counterparts, "but Dick has already blown his load!" he cried, pointing an accusing finger at Dick, whose cummy crotch still hadn't dried out properly.

"Him and half the tavern by all the jizz I can smell!" sneered Gaston, casting a glance over the sea of watchful faces. A few grinned back, knowingly.

Gaston turned back to the cronies, "Besides I'm not mad. Fuck me, if you can make a grown, hitherto straight man want to beat his meat in public by the mere sight of you, you know you're doing something right!"

Yet again the spectators applauded. The cronies grinned, somewhat relieved.

"I just think such an 'honour' deserves a better setting. Follow me boys!"

Gaston stomped off, with the four men close in tow, over to the huge wooden table on which he'd thrashed the cronies earlier that evening. He placed the four fingers of his left hand under the edge and, with a casual flick of his wrist, sent the enormous piece of furniture cart wheeling into the air. It turned over twice mid-flight and landed, with a deafening crash, upside down on the tavern floor. The landlord winched again, even though he was just as guilty for the stink of cum that hung in the air of his own tavern as anyone else.

Gaston turned to the astonished cronies, hands on hips, head thrown back, his luscious brown ponytail flopping down beautifully over his massive shoulder, "You wanna cum, I'll make you cum!" He pointed with a finger as thick as a rolling pin to the overturned table.

"You four," he barked, "Sit down on that!"

The cronies looked bemusedly at the overturned table, then to each other and finally up into Gaston's handsome face. He was smirking cruelly.

"You all suddenly gone deaf?" he asked, his hot full lips curling at the corner into a gorgeously crooked grin, "I said, sit on that!"

The cronies looked back at the prone table and, with a collective shrug, made their way over to the capsized counter top, the audience whispering restlessly, jostling one another to see what was going on.

The overturned table was enormous, easily two metres in diameter. It was made of the very thickest and most robust varnished Old English oak. In the centre, a huge pillar protruded towards the ceiling, from which sprouted four solid legs, these spanning out at opposites to one another at the four points of the compass. This created four 'quarters' of upside-down tabletop, each with a huge wooden leg pointing upwards at either side.

The cronies looked upon the massive piece of furniture for a moment longer and then, as one, got the idea. They squatted down and sat on the underside of the table, one man to a 'segment' each with an upturned table leg flanking both sides.

"That's the way boys," nodded Gaston approvingly as the men settled themselves, backs to the 'pillar' in the middle so their legs hung over the lip of the tabletop and spilled over out onto the sticky wooden boards of the tavern floor.

Dick positioned himself facing Gaston, with Tom and Harry to his left and right respectively and Stanley directly behind him. The four men were now in position, all facing outwards and away from each other, 'North South East West'. The crowd murmured with a mixture of excitement and confusion…what the hell was going on?

"They look like a water fountain!" called someone from the back.

"Shit, you're right!" agreed Gaston with a manly laugh, "Four fat little cherubs!" The audience shook with laughter.

The cronies, feeling totalling ridiculous sat there on the floor atop a huge upturned table, grinned stupidly to the laughing spectators.

"But if they're a fountain, do you know what's missing?" Gaston asked of the audience.

"Water?" ventured a brave voice.

"You're damn right. You ready to provide some 'water', boys?!" Gaston smirked, looking down on the four men.

Before they even had chance to ponder the meaning of this odd question, Gaston had squatted down, the audience once again loving the sight of his muscle butt stretching the seat of his pants. He positioned himself in front of Dick, who gazed longingly into the huge hunter's powder blue eyes; he had never been this close to Gaston's beautiful face before and wondered if he had stooped to kiss him.

"Not quite, little man!" smiled Gaston, reading Dick's expression like a book, a not-unkind twinkle in his stunning eyes, "But this should come a close second!"

With that, Gaston clamped his gigantic left fist around the table leg on Dick's right side. The three other men strained their necks around to see what was going on.

"Eyes to the front, NOW!" snapped Gaston. Tom, Harry and Stanley's eyes shot forward as instructed, "And hold on!" added Gaston, the crowd murmuring again with anticipation.

Teeth gritted, left bicep expanding with power, Gaston lifting the edge of the table off the ground with one hand. The cronies gasped and held onto the nearest table leg as they felt the countertop tilting wildly. The crowd was silent with awe.

When the edge of the table was ten inches off the ground, Gaston slid his right hand into the space between the raised tabletop and the floorboards. Crouching down even further to the floor, Gaston buried his whole arm up to the shoulder under the table, his massive hand spreading out like a dinner plate under the 'pillar', right in the centre. Gaston lifted the table edge another six inches, causing Dick's feet to leave the tavern floor.

The table was now at a crazy angle, the better to allow Gaston's meaty arm to stretch further beneath. Tom, Harry and Stanley held onto the nearest upturned table leg for dear life whilst Dick leaned back on the wooden column behind him, his eyes fixed on Gaston's straining pecs as he secured the grip of his huge palm under the centre of the table and prepared himself. From such close quarters, Dick's entire field of vision was filled with bulging, hairy, veiny muscle, his nostrils smelling nothing but the sweet man-stink of Gaston's muscle sweat.

The tavern gawped at the prone form of Gaston crouched in front of the cronies, his left arm, shoulder and freaky trap gigantic with the strain of lifting the table, his broader than broad back a mountain range of shredded muscle.

"No way, man!" piped up the handsome lad on whose hand Gaston had farted a few minutes before, "You are NOT going to do THAT! My cock can't fucking take it!"

"Sorry, lad," Gaston smirked through clenched teeth, "These boys are 'going up in the world', whether your cock can take it or not! Hold on fellas!"

Without a second's further delay, Gaston pulled back hard on the leg with his left arm, forcing the table to tip back up straight, parallel with the floor. His mighty right hand in the centre now shared the enormous weight from underneath.


With a bellow of power and defiance against every law of physics ever written, Gaston stood, lifting the massive table, cronies and all, into the air. Up, up, up the table zoomed, Gaston's eyes clamped shut with exertion, his godlike arm, shoulder and neck detonating with size and power. As Gaston stood up completely, he threw the massive table upwards over his head, letting go of the leg next to Dick with his left arm, which fell like a toppling Redwood to his waist.

The full massive weight now solely on his right hand, Gaston gave one last huge push and heaved the mighty load fully over his head, until his tree truck arm was fully extended.

The cheer from the crowd was so huge, it was a wonder the roof didn't come flying off. Every man was screaming their applause, some clapping wildly, some shaking their heads in utter wonder, ALL vigorously rubbing their swollen crotches.

This was nothing to the effect Gaston's abominable strength had had on the poor cronies; as the table on which they'd sat had rocketed upwards, the tavern floor falling away from them, each man had let out a squeal of delight even more girly and hysterical than the cry of the babes when they had succumbed to the same fate. Now they sat, mouths the shape of four perfect 'O's' of astonishment, swinging their legs joyously over the edge of the table, a tavern of adoring muscle fans masturbating far, far below.

"Holy SHIT Gaston!" moaned Tom, finding his voice, twisting his head to gaze down on the muscle brute below, "All four of us…'re lifting ALL FOUR of us….." He started violently rubbing his crotch with both hands, "…..all four of us….." he drawled, barely above a whisper. A moment later, Dick, Harry and Stanley were wanking through their pants as well.

The three babes in the corner moaned as they pleasured themselves with their fingers at the sight before them. And what a sight it was; the enormous, sweaty hunter bulging and pumped to perfection, lifting four grown men and a huge oak table over his head with just one hand, every muscle exploding with mass and energy, an adorable look of cocky, boyish pride playing over his mannish features.

As the cronies started stroking themselves, the girls nodded knowingly to one another, understanding from firsthand experience what it felt like to be pumped overhead by the bulging beast before them.

"Fuck YEAH!" bellowed Gaston, looking up in wonder at the table he lifted above his head, almost as amazed at his own monstrous power as the onlookers, "Fucking Herculean power on display!"

"You're a god, a fucking GOD!" screamed the comely lad. He had pulled out his cock from his cum-soaked pants and was jerking off as he gawped upon Gaston's freaky show of strength.

"Two fucking right!" beamed Gaston, flexing his mammoth left bicep over and over with his free arm as he had done when pumping the babes, "Let's see," he pondered, not taking his eyes off his pumpkin- sized flexing bicep for one second as he spoke, "Let's see. Three petite babes and a little wooden bench? 20-25 stones?"

The crowd hollered their agreement.

"Four grown men and a fucking MASSIVE oak table? What's your best estimate, boys?"

"That table is 25 stones on its own!" groaned the landlord, pleasuring himself as wildly as the young lad was. More men were now whipping out their cocks and jerking off.

"80 stones AT LEAST!" moaned another voice from the back, panting with lust and the effort of wanking.

"80 FUCKING stones!" boomed Gaston, tearing his eyes away from his biceps to look up at the table again, "I'm lifting 80 fucking stones with one hand! How does it feel to be part of that, boys?!"

"You're too much…..too much….." Harry trailed off, his eyes shut, masturbating like crazy.

"Right then, we've established I'm a goddam freaky muscle stud," cried Gaston, "Let's get down to business!"

Gaston turned to the orgasmic crowd of adoring men, casually swivelling the titanic load that resting on his outstretched palm above his head to better face his public.

"OK boys, here's how it goes!" announced Gaston, and began pumping his load of table and man flesh up and down over his head, as he had done with the bench, "This is a jerk off contest! The last man to blow his load is the loser. Your time starts…NOW!"

Even before Gaston had finished speaking, all four cronies had whipped their huge erections free from their pants, their hands wanking off their swollen cocks viciously. The crowd erupted yet again.

At the same moment, Lefou finally came round from having had 25 stones of bench and babe land on his head. He got up, rubbing his bruised skull but quickly switched to rubbing the bulge in his pants as he gazed upon the amazing sight of Gaston flexing his boulder- biceps with one arm whilst casually pumping four masturbating grown men and a table overhead with the other. To Lefou, the absurd scene looked like an exceptionally buff waiter carrying a huge plate of the day's special, 'Man a la Splooge'.

"Lefou!" exclaimed Gaston happily, tearing himself away from worshiping his own prodigious biceps to look down at the sad little beast at his feet, "Thought you were out for the night! You've missed all the fun."

Gaston made a clownish face of mock concentration, the pumping of the table and the cronies overhead never slowing for a second, "Let's see, I've snapped Dick's prize belt with my huge fucking biceps, I've bent three cast-iron pokers like they were made of fucking string and what else…..? Oh yeah, that's it! I even got my big, sweaty, farty muscle ass out for the lads here. And you missed the lot!"

Lefou looked like he had just slept straight through Christmas Day.

"Tell you what, little man," drawled Gaston, "You can judge this jerk off contest that's going on over my head right now! Last one to come is the loser. I'm trusting you, Lefou. Your decision is final so make sure you see them blow their loads before you name the loser."

"So who's the 'winner' then?" asked Lefou, scratching his head.

"No winners in this game, Lefou, only a loser. Hey, you better look lively. I think Stanley is nearly out of the race!"

Sure enough Stanley, the eldest of the cronies, was shaking with orgasm. Lefou ran around to where Stanley was sitting and watched with glee as the old man blew a surprisingly large load from his engorged cock all over himself.

"Yep, he's come!" squeaked Lefou, getting into his new role, "Stanley is out of the race!"

The crowd cheered and clapped enthusiastically.

"Well done, old man!" nodded Gaston with respect, "You're safe. Just sit back and enjoy the rest of the ride. No helping the others though!" he added with a grin.

Stanley sat back smiling, panting from all the wanking and deposited his wet cock back into his pants.

The other three men continued to wank like crazy, their lust rising with each pump of the table, up and down, up and down. The crowd jeered and cheered, calling out the names of the three remaining men with gusto.

"I'm coming…..I'm coming….." moaned Harry. The stout little man was shuddering with pleasure.

"I'm on it!" squeaked Lefou hysterically and ran around to witness Harry deposit his cum all over the tabletop between his legs, followed by more clapping from the tavern.

"It's between Dick and Tom then!" screamed Lefou, running around Gaston's gigantic frame to position himself looking up at the two remaining masturbators, seven feet above his head.

"Need a little help, lads?" Gaston bellowed, pumping the table even faster now, "Just look at this fucking bicep! You'll pop your cork in no time!"

The two men stared down at the massive hunter below them, mouths watering as they watched Gaston flexing his impossibly full and peaked arm. Sweat poured from every inch of Gaston's upper body, his hairy torso like a shag rug left out in the rain. The musky stink was overpowering.

The crowd was in a frenzy now, "CUM! CUM! CUM!" they screamed.

"Yeah, there's just no better way of putting it," Gaston drawled, still relentlessly flexing his intimidating left arm, "I've got biceps to FUCKING SPARE!" he boasted as Dick and Tom whimpered with orgasm.

It was a photo finish; Tom's cum blasted from his cock, clear of the table and landed with a 'splat' on Lefou's upturned face beneath. A moment later, Dick shot his huge load, all the more impressive given he had already creamed his pants that evening. The cum zoomed through the air, arched and landed with another 'splat' right on Gaston flexed bicep peak.

"We have a winn…..I mean LOSER!" screamed Lefou, wiping Tom's cum off his face whilst the spectators stamped their feet on the floorboards with approval.

Gaston, neck, traps and right arm more massive than ever with the incredible pump of the table, inclined his head towards his cum- covered bicep peak and licked the load off with one slurp of his big tongue.

"Nice, Dick, VERY nice!" he smirked, swallowing the jizz. Tom and Dick were still panting, fumbling to get their deflating cocks back in their pants. Most men in the crowd were doing the same, nearly everyone having blown their loads during the jerk off contest as well. The tavern reeked of spunk.

Gaston finally stopped pumping the table and began to lower it gently to the ground. Bringing his left hand up to share the weight again, he lowered his 80 stone cargo, stooping as he did so, until he was kneeling on the floor, head bowed dramatically, the table and men still held in his huge outstretched arms like an offering to God.

"Well done, lads, well fucking done!" grinned Gaston, as the men reluctantly disembarked the upside-down table. When all four cronies were off, Gaston stood again, sliding his big fists to opposite edges of the table. He snapped it in two like a wafer, his pumped, shredded pecs and biceps bulging as he did so. He tossed the two table halves carelessly over his immense shoulders; they flew 20 feet across the room and blasted into the open fireplace in an explosion of sparks and flying embers.

The onlookers boomed their lusty amazement whilst Pierre, the landlord, bitterly added 'Oak Table' to the ever-increasing 'Things to Replace That Gaston Has Destroyed With His Freaky Strength & Muscle' list he was reluctantly compiling in his mind.

Gaston stood, hands on hips in front of the four cronies. His awesome chest heaved, hairy pecs each pumped up to the size of a beer barrel, rising and falling with every panting breath.

"You enjoy that boys?" Gaston asked of his four friends, "Four dudes on a table pumped 'til they come by the world's mightiest musclestud!"

One eyebrow raised arrogantly, he flexed his colossal right bicep, which was bigger, rounder and sweatier than ever from picking up 80 stones of man and wooden table. As he flexed, he extended his Oak truck-thick left arm out straight, flattening his meaty hand and pointing towards the ceiling like a Greek God in the 'archer' pose.

"Holy fucking CHRIST!" moaned Dick, his cock stiffening again.

"Oh yeah, that reminds me," said Gaston, sliding smoothly into an enormous most-muscular pose, muscles on muscles on muscles swelling magnificently, "You lost our little competition, didn't ya, little man?!" he said, still flexing his monstrous upper body.

"OOOOOOWWWWWW!" jeered the crowd as one.

Dick looked petrified; he cast panicked looks over to the other cronies, who simply joined in the low, rumbling jeering of the rest of the tavern.

"You're for it now!" squeaked Lefou, dancing around like a thing possessed, "What's his punishment, big guy?!"

"You'll see soon enough," smirked Gaston, that ever wicked grin flashing over his face yet again, "But first there's something that's been bothering me."

The tavern leaned in conspiratorially, grinning to one another in expectation.

"Well, it's like this, I've put on quite a muscle show for you guys tonight, right?"

"You said it, big boy!" the slight lad squealed.

Gaston continued, his voice filled with mock self-pity, "All you boys have gotten to blow your loads over my freaky fucking muscle and strength, right?"

"And then some!" piped Tom.

"That's great, but what about me, huh?! Don't I deserve a little 'relief' too?!"

The tavern couldn't take anymore teasing, "BLOW YOUR LOAD! BLOW YOUR LOAD!" chanted the men in a frenzy of lust now, "BLOW YOUR LOAD!"

Gaston shrugged his boulder-shoulders and smirked arrogantly, "If you insist!" he announced to the adoring crowd, raising his arms into yet another incredible double-bicep flex, "But first, I've got to awake the MONSTER!"

Without further ado Gaston started undoing the brass buttons of his fly with his fingers. This was no mean feat; Gaston's crotch bulge which always looked as if he had shoved a soccer ball down the front of his pants was now swelling to even more horrific proportions, stretching the material of his unfeasibly tight trousers so taught there was no give left in the leather whatsoever. Gaston struggled on trying to unfasten the fly, his huge fingers fumbling with the buttons. The crowd shifted restlessly.

"Goddam that tailor!" Gaston snarled as he groped and fiddled with the protrusion between his legs, each massive thigh thicker than an average man's entire torso, "He knows I'm hung like a donkey and a fucking Shire horse combined! I told him to leave PLENTY of room in the crotch for my meat! Did he listen?!"

As Gaston looked down at his pants bulge his long hair, still sweaty and matted from the muscle and strength feats he'd been performing, flopped down over his forehead, tumbling gorgeously over his eyes. The cronies and Lefou gazed on adoringly, all five heads to one side like lovesick schoolgirls. With his frown of concentration and his thick tousled locks tumbling down over his face, he looked very 'little boy lost'.

"I'm gonna knock that fucking tailor's teeth out!" snarled Gaston under his breath, still scrabbling awkwardly with his crotch. In the far corner of the tavern, the towns' tailor gulped and inched further into the shadows, rubbing his hard-on through his trousers nonetheless.

The crowd was jostling to see what was going on. Many were standing on chairs and tables to gain a better view. Pierre the landlord was balancing precariously atop his bar, peeping eagerly over the heads of his patrons.

"Ah fuck this for a game of soldiers!" exclaimed Gaston in anger and grabbed the front of his pants with both hands. He tore the tough leather apart like crate paper, brass buttons flying and pinging everywhere. He continued to pull, his shredded hamstrings cutting through the leather covering the back of his thighs like a hot knife through butter. With a final tug the ruined pants came away from Gaston's enormous legs in one great sheet of sweaty torn leather, which he tossed to the floor in disgust.

As the pants were torn free a huge dull 'thump' resounded around the tavern as Gaston's monstrous cock and balls, free at last from their leathery prison, slapped heavily against his muscular thighs. This was followed a second later by deafening whoops of awe and lusty respect as the whole tavern gawped at the magnificent sight before them.

Gaston stood grinning proudly in the centre of the tavern, stark-ass- bollock naked except for his boots, his massive sweaty genitals swaying from side to side between his immense quads.

Even against the hunter's gigantic body, Gaston's cock and balls looked freakishly and wonderfully oversized. The uncut cock still swung slightly, the awesome cooking apple-sized bellend swaying heavily barley two inches above his hairy knees. That schlong was easily thirteen inches long, and it wasn't even hard! The shaft was already as thick as a grown man's wrist and must have been eight inches in girth, ten inches around the bulbous head.

Gaston's glorious penis was complemented at the base by a nice nest of curly black pubic hair. From this sweaty forest sprouted two huge high hairy rock-solid balls, each the size of a grapefruit. The tavern began to fill with the manly stink of cock.

"NOW THERE'S A COCK AND BALLS!" boomed Gaston with pride, hands on hips, "Feast your eyes, boys!"

The audience obliged gratefully, whipping out their cocks once again and beginning to stroke as they gazed slack jawed upon Gaston's humongous knob and nuts.

Gaston shuffled his boat-sized boots apart a few inches. Then he squatted a little, affording a few lucky spectators a splendid view of his big flexing butt cheeks. As he crouched the gap between his bulging thighs increased giving his mighty cock more room to swing free between his knees.

"Oh yeah, that sure is a LOT of meat! Hey, check this out!"

With that Gaston started lunging his hips backwards and forward, pumping his big arms in time in a 'humping' motion, his muscle butt bulging and relaxing wildly as he did so. His massive schlong began swaying madly between his knees, higher and higher with each lunge, until it finally smacked off his eight-pack stomach several inches above his navel. Then it swung back between his knees, curving right back up and over his butt to slap against his lower back.

Backwards and forwards the huge piece of meat swung, slamming against Gaston's brawny body like a sledgehammer again granite. Each time the cock collided with his muscles, flecks of sweat flew off and onto the surrounding spectators. The crowd watched open-mouthed, hypnotised by Gaston's mighty penis as it swung like a huge pendulum, heavy and thick. All the while the two enormous nuts jiggled and bounced like two beach balls with every lunge of Gaston's tight ass. The tavern continued to fill with the stink of his sweaty man meat.

"Hey Lefou!" Gaston beckoned the little man with his right hand, still flopping his cock around madly, "You missed out on some of my muscle show earlier, so let's see if I can make it up to you. You wanna cop a feel?!"

Within an instant Lefou was at the naked huntsman's side.

"Better stop swinging my big cock around or I might have your eye out…..or mine for that matter!" smirked Gaston who stopped lunging his ass and stood up straight again. It took ten seconds for his cock to finally stop swaying.

Lefou cast a swift glance around the tavern, meeting mixed looks of wonder and extreme jealously from the masturbating crowd. The tavern was now totally silent bar the faint squelching, slapping sound of dozens of cocks being wanked off.

Lefou looked back nervously at the giant phallus before him. Him being so short and Gaston being so huge, Lefou didn't even need to kneel; he was at perfect cock-groping height. Very slowly he extended his quivering hands out towards the gigantic shaft, a huge erection raging in his own pants. As he did so he looked up fearfully into Gaston's face, which peered down on him from above, an amused look on his handsome features.

"Don't worry, Lefou," smiled Gaston reading his little friend's panicked expression, "No tricks I promise. I'm not going to fart on you or anything!"

He cast a knowing grin over to the handsome lad who had succumbed to this particular fate earlier that evening when offered a squeeze of Gaston's bubble butt. The lad winked back and cradled the affected hand lovingly. Gaston turned back to Lefou,

"Come on little man, most men would kill to be in your shoes right now! The first guy ever to lay his hands on my monster willy! That's quite an honour!"

Lefou gulped hard and very cautiously wrapped his small hands, one above the other, around the hot sweaty shaft, his right hand an inch above the thick nest of pubes, his left hand above his right. As his fingers connected with the column of meat Lefou shuddered and creamed his pants whilst Gaston closed his eyes and smiled to himself.

The crowd were overwhelmed; each of Lefou's hands only just reached around the shaft and there was still a huge length of meat sticking out above Lefou's left hand, not to mention the incredible mushroom head, which was nearly three inches in length alone.

"You're huge…'re fucking huge….." whispered Lefou, his cock still filling up his pants with cream.

"Feel the weight, little man!" commanded Gaston, "See if you can lift it up here!" He smacked a big paw against his honed abs.

Straining against the weight, Lefou lifted the giant willy upwards, gasping at the amazing heaviness of the meat held so lovingly between his fingers. As he lifted, the huge length of cock not supported by his hands gravitated back down towards the tavern floor. Lefou managed to lift Gaston's penis until it was parallel with the floor. Gaston closed his eyes and sighed, clearly having trouble staving off an erection with all the attention his dick was getting.

Lefou, struggling with the burden now, continued to lift the cock until it was vertical. As the mushroom head touched the topmost abdominal muscles, Lefou let go of the shaft, huffing and puffing with exertion. The massive cock plummeted downwards, slapping heavily once again against Gaston's beefy thighs.

"Well done, little man!" beamed Gaston, ruffling Lefou's hair roughly, "That's over thirteen pounds of pork right there, not including my fucking nuts!" Gaston's pecs swelled with pride, "A pound for every inch, on the soft at least that is!"

The audience should have been cheering at this announcement but they seemed to have lost the power of speech. The cronies in particular had slipped into a kind of trance, silently pumping their cocks vigorously in their quivering fists.

"Smell your hands, Lefou!"

"They stink of your COCK!" whooped Lefou, bringing his hands up to his nostrils and savouring the manly funk.

"You'll never want to wash those hands again, eh buddy! Right then, let's get this beast hard!"

Many of the spectators finally found their voices and screamed their endorsement. Lefou stepped away as Gaston raised his massive arms up above his head, his palms outstretched on the back of his neck. He looked as if he was hitting an abdominal flex pose, his giant triceps swelling gorgeously, hairy armpits kicking out their musky stink.

Gaston closed his eyes, tilted his bull neck back against his palms and began gyrating his hips, his muscled stomach and bubble butt flexing in response. As he moved his hips, Gaston's cock swayed heavily in a circular motion between his knees.

"Oh yeah…..oh fuck yeah….." Gaston drawled to himself, his eyes screwed shut, a dirty boyish smirk passing over his face. Whatever diabolically smutty thoughts were going through his mind they were working.

Though Gaston's hips continued to gyrate, his cock had stopped swaying. Second by second the huge penis was thickening, lengthening and stiffening even as the crowd gawped. Thicker and longer it grew, inflating at astonishing speed as Gaston whispered his dirty thoughts to himself. After twenty seconds the shaft had swelled to over fifteen inches and was sticking out perfectly straight, parallel with the tavern floor.

"Oh yeah! This hard-on feels so fucking good!" Gaston groaned stealing a quick glance at his rapidly inflating cock.

As the shaft continued to thicken and lengthen, the mighty bellend inflated like a balloon. It began to immerge from the smooth foreskin that had covered it, swollen and ruby red, the piss slit bloated and wide. As the mushroom head appeared, peeling back the foreskin fully, the beautiful stink of sweaty cock hit the spectator's noses with renewed vigour. Gaston's penis perfume caused many men to jack off their own cocks even harder.

"Ah yeah…..nearly there…..nearly there….." muttered Gaston, his cock still growing rapidly without a single stroke from his or any other helping hand.

After another fifteen seconds had passed, Gaston's willy was at full mast, the engorged bellend pointing directly up at the tavern ceiling. It was so stiff that it stood only a few inches from Gaston's body, the fingernail-wide piss slit level with his hairy nipples. It was now not just the cronies who were in a trance; the entire tavern had fallen into a kind of orgasmic stupor as they gawped upon the spectacle before their eyes.

Gaston's full erection measured eighteen and a half inches from the thick nest of public hair to the enormous enflamed piss hole. The shaft was now eleven inches in girth and exploded with thick powerful veins. The crowning glory was the massive ruddy bellend; at five inches long and thirteen inches in circumference, the huge pulsating head of cheesy smelly cock muscle was bigger than one of Gaston's clenched fists. Pre-cum was already streaming down the swollen glands that wobbled and juddered level with the hairy bulging pecs.

"NOW THAT'S A FUCKING HARD-ON!" Gaston yelled, the crowd coming out of their zombie-like trance long enough to scream back with desire, "It's roughly the size of a BARGE! Eighteen and a half inches of rock-hard meat, ready to blow!"

He turned his head to the handsome lad, "Come here, boy!" he ordered. The lad stopped masturbating, shocked at being directly addressed by the naked bodybuilder.

"What's your name, boy?" asked Gaston.

"Willy," the boy mumbled, turning puce. All eyes were now on the lad.

"You're kidding!" boomed Gaston, shaking with laughter, his engorged cock wobbling grotesquely as his body shook, "How appropriate! Come here, now!"

Willy stumbled over to the nude muscleman, stooping from his raging hard-on. His eyes were fixed on Gaston's enormously intimidation erection. As the lad arrived by his side, Gaston lowered his hand from behind his head and pointed to a patch of open floor just in front of him,

"Stand there, facing away from me. I know it's gonna be hard tearing your eyes away from this fucking huge muscle dick, but try!"

Willy did as he was told, positioning himself as close to Gaston's body as the huge wobbling erection would allow. He cast a weary look over his shoulder.

"Eyes forward!" barked Gaston with his now common command.

Willy was quaking as he stood in front of the restless spectators. Why the hell does Gaston want my butt facing him? he thought. Most of the crowd were thinking the same thing. Surely, SURELY he wasn't going to…..

"Don't panic, boy," Gaston grinned, reading the thoughts of every man in the tavern, "I'm not going to take you up the ass right here in the middle of the tavern!"

Willy let out a sigh of relief and then realised he was faintly disappointed by this news.

"No, this is just a little demonstration for the lads here and I'm using you for it as I figure I kind of owe you for farting all over you before! Now, open you legs WIDE!"

Willy still looking nervous duly obliged, shifting his feet apart and squatting so there was plenty of room between his knees. Gaston squatted too as he had done before when swinging his dick but this time he crouched much lower, so his thighs were almost parallel with the floor. He looked like he was going to take a dump right in the middle of the tavern floor.

As Gaston squatted, both hands now back behind his head, his butt cheeks spread so much that had it not been for the pounds upon pounds of ass muscle covering it, spectators positioned behind Gaston would surely have got a glimpse of his tight hairy manhole. His bellend was now roughly inline with Willy's tight little butt.

"Watch this, lads!" Gaston grinned to the onlookers and, still squatting, took a waddling step forwards like a sumo wrestler sizing up his opponent.

"Oh fuck!" squealed Willy looking down as Gaston's bloated bellend wove into view between his knees. Gaston took another waddling step, more shaft appearing between Willy's legs. Men were climbing on top of each other to see what was going on.

"You like that?!" cooed Gaston taking another step closer. Most of Gaston's massive hard-on was now juddering between Willy's thighs.

"Holy shit!" moaned Willy, the smell of Gaston's cock overpowering, the girth of the shaft now touching the insides of his thighs, forcing them further apart.

Gaston stopped, his stomach barely an inch from Willy's back. The crowd was totally silent again; they knew what was coming and couldn't quite believe what they were about to witness…

"Hold on to your sexuality, boy!" Gaston boomed and, palms still spread out behind his head, stood up.

As Gaston straightened up to his full height, Willy was lifted clean off the ground with just the power of the terrifying erection. He straightened his back without the slightest resistance or effort as if nothing but air filled the space above his cock, rather than an eleven stone young man.

Willy squealed with joy as his feet left the tavern floor. He nearly passed out as he felt the concrete rod pressing hard against his butt, lifting him up into the air. Up he rose, the cock so vertical and stiff that Willy slid down the shaft to rest in the crease between the hairy root and Gaston's eight-pack stomach.

"Holy shit, Gaston!" drawled Willy, swinging his feet either side of the massive shaft between his legs, his feet twelve inches clear of the tavern floor. Willy's own cock was harder than it had ever been in his whole life, straining his pants mercilessly.

"How does it feel to be lifted off your feet by just my fucking monster willy, Willy?!" smirked Gaston looking down at the back of the boys' head. He swayed his hips causing his hard-on and the boy perched atop to swing madly from side to side.

"I…..I….." Willy trailed off losing the power of speech. His whole body bounced up and down as Gaston's almighty knob juddered like a bucking bronco beneath his ass.

The crowd were, perhaps unsurprisingly, jerking off again like never before. The cronies and Lefou were all pummelling their meat like it was going out of fashion, shaking with a mixture of pleasure and jealousy towards Willy, surely the luckiest lad in the world.

Gaston continued to carry around Willy on his inflated cock for another minute, gyrating his hips so the boy swung madly left and right, forward and back, his feet dangling above the floorboards. Willy groaned with pleasure as he was tossed from side to side, clinging on for dear life to the knob with both hands as Gaston smirked arrogantly.

"I can't take this anymore….." moaned Willy, pleasure pulsating through his body, "I'm gonna…..gonna….."

As Willy blew his load in his pants Gaston lowered his hands from behind his head and tucked them under the lad's armpits. He lifted Willy off his jutting dick as if he were picking up a rag doll. Then he stomped over to his enormous hunting chair and tossed Willy playfully into it in a heap of cummy pleasure.

"That was beautiful….." drawled the boy gazing up at the huge hunter.

"Glad you enjoyed it!" Gaston winked and stomped back to where he had been, his hard-on swaying with each step.

"Right, I gotta spank my monkey before my nuts explode!"

The mob began cheering again hungrily, every single man wanking madly even though everyone had already blown at least one load that night. Taking a deep breath Gaston lowered his right hand to his dick and began tentatively caressing the huge wobbling shaft, running his meaty thumb and forefinger up and down the veiny column lovingly; it was clearly a practised hand!

"Oh GOD that feels good! So fucking GOOD!! Gotta go carefully though. I could blow right now if I'm not careful!"

Gaston began to speed up the stroking of his shaft, using all fingers now, his cock jerking wildly in response to the stimulation. As gigantic as his right paw was, his meaty fingers only just reached around the full swollen girth.

Every muscle in Gaston's huge body was flexing violently, biceps bunching with the pump of his fist, bubble butt clenching, mammoth thighs rippling with shredded muscle, pecs bouncing involuntarily with each stroke. Sweat poured from every inch of his hairy muscles.

"You have no fucking idea how good this feels!" moaned Gaston, his head thrown back, eyes screwed shut in elation; it was as if Gaston had gone into his own little world.

"No, but we know how good it LOOKS!" cried Willy from the chair who was pumping his fist over his own cock in time with the massive huntsman.

Gaston grinned and lifted his left hand to meet his knob end. Both big paws were now working the titanic penis, the right vigorously rubbing up and down the shaft, the left massaging the huge bloated bell end tenderly as if he were polishing a particularly huge and sexy cantaloupe.

"There's something I should…..oh yeah….. I should let you boys know," moaned Gaston, his eyes still clamped shut, "I haven't had a wank in three days!"

The crowd exploded with lusty glee.

"I normally jack AT LEAST six times a day. I…..fuck yeah…..I have to as these big muscle balls right here churn out sooooo much fucking splooge, they'd drag on the floor if I didn't!" Gaston never slowed massaging his engorged willy for a second, working the flared ridge of the mushroom head with his fingers,

"You know it's supposed to be my wedding night! I should be fucking Belle within an inch of her life as we speak! But she…..oh god yeah…..she turned me down! TURNED ME DOWN?!"

"She must be fucking crazy!" Tom yelled, the crowd concurring with this observation.

"Yeah well, I'd been 'saving up' for her! Three fucking days! Longest I've ever gone…..oh shit yeah…..longest I've ever gone without blowing my load! I was REALLY looking forward to pasting my new bride to the fucking ceiling with three days worth of cum!"

"She doesn't know what she's missing!" called Dick.

"Oh well," sighed Gaston, "I guess I'll just have to share the twenty- odd loads that are backed up in these huge fucking balls with you good people here tonight!"

In response to this generous offer, a dozen men shared their loads with the tavern floor.

Gaston left go of his bellend and began stroking the entire length of his cock, head and all, with his right hand. He rotated his wrist, stroking now in a circular motion as well as up and down. The base of his penis exploded with pleasure as much as the crown. With his now free left hand he began feeling himself up, his fingers hungrily exploring the massive muscles of his bulging biceps, boulder- shoulders, hairy bouncing pecs and finally his muscular ass.

"Oh god… much fucking muscle and power!" he whimpered to himself, his prodigious pecs bouncing back and forth under his groping fingers.

Any man who could focus their eyes long enough through their orgasm was staring fixedly upon Gaston's swollen bellend; it looked ready to explode, as did his entire cock. Pre-cum poured from the engorged piss-slit like water, some dripping off and pooling on the floorboards beneath, some running down the bellend where Gaston's masturbating fingers smeared it all over, lubing up the massive shaft.

All could see that he was ready to blow but Gaston, ever the showman, was edging, holding off the exquisite pleasure and massive relief that this giant orgasm would bring until the very last second.

"Shit! I can jack all night when I want to, but with this much fucking cum sloshing around in my nuts, it's killing me!" he groaned in ecstasy, "Still, the longer you stroke, the further you squirt!"

Gaston stopped worshipping his own muscles with his left hand and returned it to his dick. Both hands now rubbed the full length of the jolting cock, one paw above the other. Every few seconds Gaston's left hand would leave the shaft and fondle the flared bellend lovingly, his whole body shaking with bliss as he did so. Then he would return both fists to the meaty column once more.

"It's getting even bigger!" screamed Lefou. Sure enough, as Gaston approached his orgasm, his cock was swelling again, practically lying flat against his stomach with its vertical stiffness. The mast of bulging dick must have been nearly twenty inches now, the bellend the size of a child's head.

Gaston wanked off his giant meat for another two minutes, groaning with joy as he did so, every muscle twitching and flexing, his fingers drenched with pre-cum. The audience were in hysterics; most were still frantically masturbating. Even those who didn't have a drop of jizz left in their bodies stood massaging their aching hard- ons through their pants nonetheless.

Gaston now felt his mighty orgasm rising, felt 20 loads worth of cum churning in his mighty bouncing balls, felt his cock swell so huge, it was too stiff to even buck and judder anymore.

"Get ready, lads!" he whimpered, "And I…..fucking hell…..I warn you; you WILL get wet, you may get SOAKED!"

"BLOW YOUR LOAD! BLOW YOUR LOAD! BLOW YOUR LOAD!" the tavern chanted, now crazy with desire.

"OK, boys, this is it! And…..FIVE!"

The crowd knew what to do.

"FOUR!" they bellowed

Gaston pummelled his shaft with one hand, polishing the bulbous head furiously with the other. The men were jostling with one another to be at the front of the crowd in a perverse 'catch the bouquet' like ritual, the better to get the full force of Gaston's mighty release.


Both Gaston's fists were now on the shaft, one above the other, his bellend more engorged than ever, fists a blur as he chafed his mammoth willy mercilessly.


"You're in trouble!" whined Gaston, smirking at Lefou and the cronies who had managed to elbow themselves directly to the front of the jostling throng. He treated his massive meat to one last long lingering loving stoke from piss-slit to pubes.

"ONE!!!" roared the crowd

As Gaston passed the 'point of no return', he threw back his head, eyes clamped closed. He was coming…..coming…..


Gaston let out an animal bellow of orgasm and ecstasy as pints upon pints upon pints of thick jizz rushed from his mighty balls, rocketing up his bobbing rod and exploded with the force of a shotgun from his enflamed piss-slit.

The first blast would have hit the tavern's back wall were it not for poor Lefou who was at the very front of the pushing throng. The little man was knocked clean off his feet as he took the full force of a pint and a half of super-pressured man-spunk in the face. Drenched head to toe in Gaston's thick jizz, he fell to the floor with a thud, grinning all over his face.

Meanwhile the second cum rocket had launched from Gaston's willy; it blasted out with even greater power than the first, one long unbroken cable of splooge. It hit the tavern roof leaving a sticky patch of cum the size of a desk-bloater on the ceiling. Cum showered down on the masturbating crowd, upturned faces splattered with cream.

Rope after rope after rope of thick, creamy splooge blasted from Gaston's knob end. Some bolts detonated metres across the room, carrying high above the heads of the crowd, landing here and there randomly on some lucky spectator, drenching them from head to foot. Some struck the ceiling again, raining spunk droplets down on the entire tavern like a tropical storm of sperm. Other fatter cum ropes flew lower and thicker, hitting Lefou and the cronies square on, soaking them mercilessly.

As his spunk blasted all over the tavern, Gaston never slowed wanking for one second, his mighty orgasm ripping through ever fibre of his gigantic body, muscles flexing and relaxing involuntarily with ecstasy.

The entire mob without exception was tossing off in time with Gaston, jacking furiously as a bolt of thick sperm shot passed here or pasted a grown man to the floor there. Men were shrieking with pleasure, blowing their little loads as the naked muscleman blew his massive one.

Gaston wanked on, pointing the end of his willy in every possible direction so his erupting meat shot sperm over every square inch of the inn, over every adoring onlooker. His jutting cock continued to blast for another thirty seconds until finally the cum slowed it's assault. Gaston gave his bell-end one last pummel as the last giant rope discharged from his piss-hole, saturating Willy all over.

"FUCKING HELL!!" bellowed Gaston, massaging his slowly deflating penis with his left hand and wiping his sweaty brow with the other. His entire body was drenched with sweat, body hairy matted, arms and pecs pumped from wanking off his cock. Cum still dribbled from his deflating knob, pooling on the tavern floor beneath.

Gaston, who stood panting like a marathon runner at the end of the big race, now opened his eyes for the first time to assess the devastation. He was surrounded on every side by a teeming throng of cum drenched worshippers, marinating in pints and pints of his own spunk.

Gaston grinned widely, nodding proudly to himself as he surveyed the damage. There was hardly a man in sight who wasn't positively wet with cum. The majority had jizz splattered over at least part of, if not their whole, face. Many of the men had heads of hair plastered flat with sperm. Lefou, the cronies and Willy, who had all taken the brunt of Gaston's semen, were all completely and utterly drenched, fighting for breath beneath a slick coating of man-milk than covered them. Tom and Dick were wiping cum from each other's faces.

"How many blasts was that!" asked Gaston of the mob, hardly able to believe the sheer volume of sperm his cock had unloaded.

"Eighteen!" squealed Willy smoothing back his wet hair with Gaston's spunk like it was hair gel, "I was counting!"

"Eighteen fucking blasts of super-powered spunk!" laughed Gaston, shaking his head in disbelief, "A blast for every inch of my hard-on!"

From the bar Pierre clawed the cum from his eyes and looked around in horror at his now cum-drenched tavern. It looked for all the world as if someone has chucked three galleons of whipped cream all over his establishment. It would take days to clear up all this mess, especially the roof where several long sticky ropes of cum hung like stalactites.

"Maybe it's just as well I didn't fuck Belle with three days worth of loads sloshing about in my balls, I'd have probably drowned her!" Gaston boomed, shaking his cummy cock off as if he had just taken a massive piss. Flecks of cum splattered the faces of men nearby. "It's like I always say, I'm especially good at ejaculating!"

Lefou knew he usually said "expectorating" and for a moment contemplated correcting him, but then thought against it.

The mob continued to clean themselves down; many of the men were using their tongues, lapping up the warm jizz that covered them like it was champagne.

"Who's the man!" boomed Gaston and began flexing his mighty muscles as before, hitting pose after pose. As he flexed a bulging bicep here or bounced a pumped pec there, his now floppy but still swollen cock smacked and slapped against his body with every move.

Gaston straightened up from a truly massive most-muscular pose and stomped across the tavern to where the babes sat, quaking with lust. The naked muscleman stopped before them, his cock pointing downwards now but still thick and pumped up from his recent orgasm. The girls quaked before the stinking inflated meat as it swung heavily in front of their eager faces. Gaston crouched and extended his massive left arm out straight towards the girls.

"Hop on, ladies!" he cooed raising one eyebrow and grinning.

The girls didn't need to be told twice; Red parked herself on Gaston's boulder-shoulder, tight ass pressed up against the side of his face. Gold sat herself on the huge bicep, bigger than a rugby ball even though it wasn't flexed. Green placed herself on his pumped forearm. Gaston grinned and stood up, lifting the three squealing girls effortlessly like they weighed nothing at all.

The mob eyed the naked muscleman lustily as he stomped back across the tavern with his load of giggling girl flesh perched on his extended left gun, six little legs swinging prettily with every step of the hunters mighty boots.

"Get ready for the fuck of your lives, ladies!" boomed Gaston.

The babes looked ecstatic and exchanged overjoyed looks with one another.

"It certainly will be the fuck of our lives," cooed Red curling Gaston's thick hair lovingly between her small fingers, "We're all virgins!" Gaston looked like a lifetimes' worth of Christmases had all come at once,

"In that case girls, prepare to kiss goodbye to your virginities!"

The mob whooped with praise and the babes clung to one another in delight, fondling whatever portion of Gaston's bulging body they could lay their hands on from their odd vantage point.

"But Gaston, you've already blown your load!" squealed Gold indicating the sperm-soaked tavern with a wave of her small hand, "Will there be anything left for us?"

"Plenty more where that came from!" boasted Gaston and plodded off towards the doorway that led to the upstairs suites of the tavern.

"Landlord, I have the honeymoon suite booked for myself and Belle. Although Belle isn't here, I'd like to keep my reservation as I shall be knocking the back out of these three babes instead!"

The crowd roared and the girls fanned each other with their hands to prevent from swooning clean away. Pierre looked deflated; God only knew what diabolical damage one of Gaston's famed fuck sessions would inflict upon his best room. He bitterly added 'New Honeymoon Suite' to his mental list.

Gaston was just about to leave the tavern when he spied Dick, who had just about dried himself off from his soaking before. Gaston stomped over, muscles straining a little from lifting the three babes on his outstretched arm. He stopped before Dick and looked down.

"You lost our little jerk off contest before, didn't you?!" he grinned. Dick looked like he wanted to crawl up his own asshole.

"What's his punishment, big boy!" pushed Lefou.

Without answering, Gaston reached out his massive free fist and grabbed Dick by the front of his jerkin. Without blinking he hauled the big man off his feet, lifting him a metre off the floor like a doll. Dick gasped and stared into the face of the gorgeous grinning bodybuilder who so effortlessly lifted him up.

"His 'punishment' Lefou is that his asshole will become the first ever man pussy to be ploughed by my massive meat!"

Gaston gave his ass a wiggle, the 'massive meat' in question slapping between his muscular thighs. As the crowd erupted with lusty applause at this announcement, a grin of pure pleasure spread over Dick's face.

The other three cronies were in an uproar, "But that's not a punishment, it's the greatest reward EVER!" squealed Tom.

"Yes I suppose it is, now I come to think of it!" grinned Gaston, shrugging his massive shoulders, Red rising a foot into the air as the boulder of muscle on which she sat bunched under her ass.

Tom was kicking himself; if only he'd known, if only he'd held his wad for just a few seconds longer. Harry and Stanley were bitterly thinking the same thing.

With a grin Gaston tossed Dick straight up in the air. The huge man zoomed upwards, a look of pure shock on his face. He stopped climbing, his head only a couple of inches from the tavern roof and then began to fall back to earth again. Gaston was ready for him; moving with astonishing speed and expert balance, he caught Dick over his mighty right shoulder. Dick landed with a thud, his legs falling down over Gaston's chiselled torso.

Dick gaped down upon the expanse of huge muscular back his new post now afforded him, gazing in wonder at the remarkable hairy bubble- butt below. Fears quite forgotten he let his hands explore the rippling beef, inclining his head and kissing every inch of muscle he could reach. The babes and mob alike squealed; the other conies and Lefou looked like they were about to die of jealously.

Gaston swaggered over to the doorway, stopping to look back at the tavern, "Thank you for your kind support, gentlemen! I hope you enjoyed my little muscle, strength and cum show as much as I did! Goodnight!" he boomed with a cocky grin. He was just about to leave his adoring mob when Dick tapped his muscular back,

"Hold on, big boy!" he smiled. Rummaging awkwardly in his pocket, he pulled out a length of tattered leather and a lump of iron that had once been his best belt and three sturdy pokers. These he tossed to where the cronies and Lefou stood staring ruefully. It was Lefou who caught them.

"You take these mate. Looks like I won't need to wank off to these tonight after all; I've got the REAL thing!"

With a final wicked and gorgeously cocky smirk, Gaston turned his bulging back on the crowd and stomped off upstairs, effortlessly carrying his load of ecstatic pussy and cock for a mighty five-some, leaving behind him a tavern full of cheering, adoring, masturbating muscle fans.

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