This is a work of fiction. All rights reserved and you must be over 18 to read. I wrote this contemplating that this action all takes place in a late 40’s type setting. May take time to serialize it out fully. Assuming it interests anyone’>). Dedicated to two caring persons who are important to me in each of their own way who are across the great sea but in my thoughts.To musclMark..lost ur email write.
IT’S ALL IN THE GENES: A SUPERHERO’S SAGA!
The Battle Begins:
By Cicero
Randilor stood on top of the nearby tower watching over his city. His eyes scanned looking for any sign of trouble in the metropolis he called home. His hard chiseled muscular 6'2" frame was outlined in a skintight blue costume he wore that caught the gleaming dying light of the sun to show off every ripple and definition of his body. With his wavy brown hair and green eyes set in a classically rugged yet handsome face one would have defined Randilor as the typical All-American guy. However they would be wrong for Randilor was from beyond the stars orphaned here by a dying civilization that had sent one of its sons to a far off planet where endowed with extra human strength and invulnerability he could serve as the guardian of order against that planet’s dark forces. Randilor had arrived here as a small child in a shi p that had contained the collected works of his planet. Taken in by a small town family that had found him and his ship he was raised with the simple virtues of their time. Randilor, grew strong and straight learning to hide his powers from prying eyes and growing up with the knowledge of his destiny. At 25 he left his adopted family and went to his new home here in Empire city where for the last 8 years he had engaged in the fight for order against his greatest enemy Barrett Lang the sinister genius of a vast criminal organization dedicated to chaos. Barrett Lang had vowed to crush Randilor and his hatred of the handsome muscular super-hero knew no bounds but Randilor was confident that he would always win in their encounters.
Meanwhile in a dank underground lair Barrett Lang planned and plotted. Short enormously fat and toad-like in appearance the middle-aged Barrett Lang had early on decided to spend his life in acquiring power to avenge himself on everyone. His mind had been deformed by perceived taunts and insults from others throughout his life. To him this striking opponent represented all those more powerful handsome and strong boys and men that frustrated and mocked him even as, to his mortification, they erotically aroused him. Defeating Randilor became a primary aim in all his machinations now. For hours Barrett would sit in a chair contemplating Randilor’s sheer physical beauty. The 32 yr old’s tapered waist, bulging biceps, hard eight Pac, muscular legs and, that rounded high meaty butt.
Randilor was all Barrett wanted to be to the world yet was not: handsome, desirable, masculine, dominating. “I must win over you," Barrett would mutter. As he planed and schemed for his conquest of the striking hero.
During his reveries on this Barrett’s own rod would stiffen with thoughts of the super-hero subservient to Barrett’s erotic demands. "Yes," he hissed as he fantasized bout grabbing the youthful stud’s face and pressing it deep into the folds of his flabby stomach. Barrett could feel the moist wetness of the muscular hunk’s full lips as they parted to suck off his once bitter enemy.
“Suck me Randilor," Barrett would moan with eyes closed as he unconsciously beat himself to climax lost in his mental pictures. In time this became Barrett’s primary source of sexual release. A never ending series of cerebral images of Randilor in varied acts of sexual submission to Barrett’s erotic desires. Randilor tied, shaved, milked, humiliated or, screwed it all played out on th e canvass of the fevered imagination of the arch criminal.
After each sexual release Barrett rushed to set into motion his next move in his crime world. But as always he was blocked by the one man he now hated and desired above all.
As Randilor continually frustrated Barrett’s goals at each encounter the evil genius’ rage grew. He became obsessed now beyond reason with not only defeating Randilor but also satisfying the uncontrollable burning need within him for sexually conquering his opponent as well. To Barrett mentally, physically and, sexually taking down his nemesis would be the ultimate victory over all those men and boys whose physical perfection and sexual desirability to others only emphasized his own body’s defects. For years this had all seemed hopeless and Barrett could only plot and watch as the superhero foiled the evil criminal’s carefully laid plans at every turn but now there was a new development. One of his minions had discovered one of the texts that had come in Randilor’s ship. By sheer chance it had been separated from the others on the day Randilor had landed and had been overlooked when the adopted family of his foe had scooped up the young toddler and his books that day. Barrett had paid a tidy sum to acquire it and even more to translate it. He had hoped merely for some scrap of knowledge to aid him in his quest but luck was with him. His translator had reported that it was a simple biology & sociology text on the inhabitant’s makeup and their culture.
Barrett had sent for the book at once and spent hours pouring over the lengthy text. By the time he was done he was smiling. "I have you!" He howled as his lair echoed with his twisted laugh. Randilor had a genetic flaw that Barrett was sure Randilor was unaware of and would give Barrett what he wanted most in life. "I will have you. I will have you at last." The fat toad like man croaked as he reached down to unzip and stroke his now engorged manhood. The vast chamber echoed with his groans as Barrett Lang visualized conquering the muscular su per hunk and, more precisely, violating Randilor’s quivering virginal round meaty butt. He knew now that with this newfound information his dreams were about to come true. "I have youuuuuuuu," he cried as his evil seed spurted in a high arch across the cold marble floor! Quickly the evil villain cleaned up. He ran to the door and opened it. “GET ME MY CHEMIST,” he bellowed!
Randilor unaware of all this kept his vigil relaxing in the cool play of the night’s air along his defined torso contentedly confident in his powers & his image of superior masculine power. He casually brushed a lock of his wavy thick brown hair from his eyes and a serene smile came to his handsome visage. “Looks like everything is in its proper order," he sighed in that deep sexy voice that had stirred quite a few loins in others when they heard him speak. If he had but known how soon that concept would begin to crumble.
Suddenly Randilor saw something coming toward him. It was a small flying drone. The handsome hero flew to intercept it and discovered it contained a message: “I challenge you .Meet me tonight for a face off if you dare! Signed Barrett Lang.” A smile came to the striking features of the heroic stud. “Does he never learn,” Randilor said shaking his head with the supreme confidence in his ability and strength that only someone who has never tasted defeat knows. On some level however his alien senses must have detected the coming change in the way of the things for, without his conscious realization, the virginal sphincter of the hero suddenly cinched just a bit tighter in the hero’s muscular bubbled buttocks.
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