TANK

When he first started on the loading dock, Tank really pissed me off. He knew 
it, too, even if he didn't know why. He worked extra hard to try and keep me 
happy "Yes," Sir-inq this and "No problem," Sir-ing that, always wondering when 
I was going to snarl at him next. I laid the heavy-duty trip on him partly 
because he was new and I wanted to make sure he figured out who was the boss, 
partly because I sensed he got off on taking orders, but mostly because he made 
me hornier than hell and I had to blow off steam somehow. I mean, my cock ached 
just thinking about him.

His real name is Dominic, but after the first day on the dock the rest of the 
guys started calling him Tank. It's an apt description. He's one of the best-
looking Texas boys I have ever laid my Texas eyes on, the kind that must have 
started lifting weights when he was three. He's only about 5'9" but his sixteen 
stone - that's right, 224 pounds - is all solid fucking muscle. I'm talking 
enormous, oversized, powerlifter-type muscle. The kind that gives a guy 
shoulders a yard wide, traps that start behind the ears, bulbous pecs so huge 
they sag with the weight of muscle in them..., and thighs like oaks.

The kid is a fucking monster, some would even say grotesque, but he can do the 
work of two men and so quickly earned the respect of the others. Besides, beauty 
being in the eye of the beholder and all that, one man's grotesque is another's 
hunk of Grade-A turn-on and, let me tell you, looking at Tank is like setting 
the thermostat in my balls on high.

But like I said, the kid - and I call anyone who's only 20 a kid - really got up 
my nose. He was being a real cock-teaser. Here's this Texas boy bulging with 
muscle and for some reason he keeps most of it covered up. What the fuck gives?

It's ninety in the shade, everyone else is either in a T-shirt or stripped to 
the waist, and he's wearing a bulky flannel shirt! Sure, he's got the arms 
chopped off and some of the buttons undone showing an ultra-deep cleavage, but 
he's still covering up the hottest part of the male anatomy. 

Now, don't get me wrong, a hard cock and a tight arse are great but nothing 
beats two man-sized nipples on a set of huge, heavy, muscular pecs.

The way he filled out his shirt, I figured Tank's tits must have been nothing 
short of spectacular. So why the hell wasn't he showing them off? It ain't 
natural for a guy with muscle to keep it hidden, especially around other 
muscular guys. This coy crap had to stop and, as luck would have it, it was some 
of the other guys who gave me the chance to make my move.

A bunch of us were sitting around on the dock eating lunch and shooting the 
breeze when, as it always does on a Friday, the question came up as to who was 
going to the bar after work for a few beers. That always leads to a heated 
argument on the bar's strippers, which usually degenerates into a crude 
discussion on the finer points of a woman.

"I'm a pussy man," stated Vic Morowsky, for something like the tenth time. 
"Pussy is definitely the best part."

"No, man, you're wrong," argued Manny Montoya, shaking his head. "Arse. Arse is 
wh

"You're full of shit," replied Morowskv. "Tank. Hey, Tank. What do you think is 
the best part?"

Tank is not a talker at the best of times, so being asked an opinion made him 
uncomfortable as hell. He looked around helplessly and shrugged those Herculean 
shoulders of his, unable to speak.

That's when I decided to play my hunch. Looking him in the eye, I said "I'll bet 
Tank's a tit man."

The look of embarrassed surprise in Tank's brown eyes said it all. Guilty as 
charged, Your Honour. His red face confirmed it.

I made a point of scratching my hard, left nipple through the fabric of my 
sweat-soaked T-shirt when I asked, "Am I right, Tank? Are you a tit man? Do tits 
turn you on?"

The rest of the guys roared in good-natured delight, getting a kick out of 
Tank's obvious unease, assuming he was shy. But I knew differently. The way he 
was staring at my T-shirt and licking his lips told me the truth. I had him.

The horn signaling the end of lunch went off and the guys scattered to put their 
stuff away, giving Tank and me a few minutes alone. I walked up to him and he 
protectively crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"You didn't answer me, Tank," I growled.

 "Are-you-a-tit-man? "

Despite being bigger and stronger, Tank knew his place. He just didn't know me. 
After a long pause, his eyes downcast, he finally confessed, "Yes, Sir, I'm a 
tit man. I get off on tits, Sir."

"Especially your own, eh?" I prodded at the front of his bulging shirt.

His eyes still at the ground as he slowly nodded. "Open your shirt!" I ordered.

He did as he was told and boldly thrust out his tanned, smooth chest for 
inspection. 

Holy shit! The first time I laid eyes on his man-breasts I just about creamed my 
jeans. My wildest dreams had come true - ten times over. His massive pecs sat 
low and heavy across his deep ribcage, two swollen mounds of densely packed 
muscle - fuller and deeper than I have ever seen before. 

And capping each mighty mound of relaxed pec-flesh was a good half-inch of hard, 
mouth-watering nipple about as thick as the end of my little finger.

I reached across and slid the palm of my hand under the curve of his left pec, 
feeling its weight and the warm satin-smoothness of his skin. I pinched hard at 
the skin and found no fat. Tank winced at the pain but made no protest. I traced 
my finger around the outer edge of his left pec, then grabbed a handful of the 
bulging, relaxed muscle. I quietly marvelled at its size, shape and density, and 
then gave it a good, hard squeeze. In response, Tank contracted his pecs and the 
muscle solidified like concrete under my touch. Beautiful, huge, erotic and 
beautiful.

I reached down to my belt and found the ruler I was looking for, then put it 
under his left pec and measured the depth. "Shit," I murmured as I saw that 
Tanks pec-depth was almost six inches - six inches of muscular chest-flesh 
bulging out from his body. I dropped the ruler to the floor and both of my hands 
found their way onto each of his huge pecs. Tank flexed again. "Relax them!" I 
ordered and suddenly my fingers sank deep into the sensuous chest flesh, 
kneading and probing the depth of each pec.

I knew I was running out of time so I reluctantly released the pec and let my 
fingertips examine Tank's erect left nipple. "Your nipples need to be worked on 
to make them bigger!" I said.

"Yes, Sir." Then Tank's voice dropped and he hesitantly asked, "Would Sir show 
me how?"

I didn't reply right away, and let go of his left pec. Out of the corner of my 
eye I could see some of the guys coming back. Tank looked into my face and in a 
barely audible voice begged, "Please, Sir."

I let him stew a few more seconds then said, "Meet me at my car after work."

"Yes, Sir!"

"Oh, and now, strip your shirt right off," I added. "I want to be able to see 
those huge muscular breasts of yours this afternoon - and I want the other guys 
to see them too!"

"But, Sir," he stammered, "The guys, I'm so big, they won't . . . understand."

"Just do as I tell you, or else!" I sneered. 

"Yes, Sir..."

That afternoon Tank worked bare-chested. And man, let me tell you, my balls 
ached every time I caught sight of those sweat-drenched pecs, exposed and 
vulnerable, twitching and heaving with every move his body made. Maybe even more 
of a turn-on was watching how the other guys reacted to seeing Tank's gargantuan 
tits. 

There was everything from stunned surprise to horror and disgust. Everybody 
looked, some stared, but no one had the guts to say anything out loud.  And 
Tank? Yeah, he was selfconscious at first. But as the day wore on his confidence 
grew and by the end of the shift, even his oversized jeans couldn't hide the 
erection he was sporting. He got off on the eyes staring at his huge chest 
development.

As ordered, he was waiting beside my car at the end of the day. There was no one 
else around and without a, word, I used his shirt to wipe the sweat off his pecs 
then reached into my lunch bucket for a couple of tiny, chromeplated 
clothespegs. I snapped them onto his tits, thinking they looked damn 
insignificant on that huge expanse of chest. Tank let out a low moan and seemed 
to get off on them, so I 

told him to put his shirt on and get in.

"Where do you live?" I asked. "Just near the park, sir."

In the park ahead I could see some young guys playing touch football. They were 
around eighteen years of age. I had an idea as I stopped outside his apartment 
building. "Go and put on a pair of shorts, sneakers and a T-shirt and meet me 
over there." I pointed to a spot where the boys were throwing a ball around. 
Just before he left, I opened his shirt and roughly pulled the clips off his 
nipples.  The way he winced made me hot.

I wandered over to the park and didn't have to wait long. Ten minutes later the 
bulky figure of Tank appeared next to me near the park bench. He was wearing 
high-cut running shorts which showed his massive thighs to perfection. The T-
shirt hugged his huge pectorals like a second skin. I pointed to the area 
surrounding the playing field. "Now start running around the field 'till I tell 
you to stop!" Tank looked surprised but nodded and obeyed my order.

The air was still hot and after a few minutes I could see that Tank's T-shirt 
was soaked with sweat. Several of the boys playing football stared at his 
muscular frame as he made his circuit around them. One in particular couldn't 
take his eyes off the big man. 

A few minutes later, the football game ended and the boys dispersed - all except 
one. He was leaner than the rest and was staring at Tank as he sweated his way 
around the field. He was still looking at Tank as he came to where I was 
standing.

"Hi, I'm Tony - are you training that big guy?" The boy was about eighteen, lean 
but well-muscled.

"Trying to," I replied. 

"He looks like he's got a massive chest on him!" the boy whispered hoarsely.

I nodded and called Tank over and he stood before me, panting from the effort of 
his run. Tony's eyes were glued to the heaving set of pectorals pushing against 
the material covering the muscle giant's upper body. I scribbled my address on a 
piece of paper and pushed it into Tank's hand. 

"If you want to see some real muscle action - be there at eight tonight!"  Tank 
looked at Tony, then at me, nodded submissively and set off for his apartment 
across the road.

Tony stared after him, "God he must look incredible stripped to the waist!" Tony 
turned and looked at me for a response. I decided to test his real interest.

"A big guy like that needs a lot of discipline - hands on discipline." 

Tony's tongue lightly licked his lips. "Yeah... I'd like to see someone give him 
some of that!"

Tony accepted my invitation to witness some real training and as we drove to my 
place, he became more and more excited by thoughts of what that night might 
bring. By the end of the journey I was convinced his passions matched mine. We 
ate a quick snack and I looked at the clock. "He'll be here in half an hour. 
I'll show you the workout room."

Tony was intrigued as we descended the stairs into the basement. I swung open 
the steel door and pointed to the padding. "This room is soundproofed." 

Inside the room there was a small area set aside with weight training equipment. 
Next to it was a leather-covered, padded 'examination' table and Tony noticed 
the leather restraints hanging from each corner of the table but made no 
comment.

"Punishment is part of the training - no pain, no gain."

"Oh, yeah That big guy needs a lot of punishment!" the teenager said as he 
examined the array of canes, straps and clamps revealed by the open cupboard 
door.

I looked at my watch, it was past eight o'clock. Then the doorbell rang. Tank 
stood there apologising for being late, he couldn't get a cab. "Shut up your 
whining and get down those stairs!" Tank was surprised to see young Tony staring 
at him as he entered the basement. I introduced them.

"Tony's a boy who wants to see you put through your paces, so strip down to your 
briefs and get ready for an inspection."  Tank paused, then took off his 
sneakers and peeled down his jeans. Then he stood up and bared his upper body. 
Tony let out a gasp when he saw Tank's torso. "Shit, look at the size of those 
pecs!" he gasped.

I had to agree - Tank looked fucking impressive. I ran an appraising hand over 
his shoulders, back, tight butt and tree-trunk thighs. This was going to be 
good. I grabbed Tony's hands and pressed them against Tanks huge tits. His 
fingers sank into the muscular flesh. "That's what you wanted to do to him all 
afternoon, wasn't it?" I said.

"Oh yeah!" the boy whispered hoarsely as his fingers groped and fondled Tank's 
huge mounds of relaxed tit-flesh.

I reached down into Tanks white briefs and grabbed his cock which was already 
erect. It was just like him short - maybe five inches - but thick, real thick. I 
pumped it slow and roughly a couple of times to get the feel of it, then slid 
down to grab his low-hanging balls and gave them a twist. Nice, real nice. I 
pulled Tony's hungry hands off Tanks tits. "Feel the rest of him while I apply 
these." Tony stared at the chrome clothespegs in my hand, then watched 
fascinated as I clipped them onto each of Tank's nipples. I twisted them a few 
time and Tank moaned quietly with the pain.

At the same time young Tony mauled the rest of Tank's mighty body, sqeezing and 
groping Tank's muscular flesh.

I couldn't help smiling inwardly when I pulled the chrome clothespins off Tank's 
nipples and his eyes blissfully glazed over for a moment as the blood rushed 
back into them. Talk about nipple-sensitive! Fuck, if this is how the kid reacts 
to this Mickey Mouse stuff, I thought, he's going to freak when we start going 
heavy-duty. But I quickly reminded myself that going heavy-duty was a long, long 
way off yet.

With that in mind, and knowing how anybody who lifts weights gets off on his own 
pumped muscles, I led Tank over to the bench press and told him he was going to 
warm up by cranking off eight reps.

"Yes, Sir," he replied, sliding smugly under the 200 pound barbell.

"But before you start," I said, "these are to remind you to concentrate on your 
pecs." His eyes widened and his smug little grin vanished when he saw me pick up 
a couple of mean-looking, alligator clamps from a nearby work bench and hold 
them a moment 

for his inspection.

He hoped gritting his teeth would help but, no, he still ended up wincing in 
pain when I eased first one then the other clamp onto his erect nipples. "There, 
that'll help," I taunted. "Now, squeeze out those reps!"

Like I knew it would be, the set was a piece of cake for him. Fine, let him 
think he was finished. I tapped the ends of his nipples which made his cock jump 
and brought a whimper to his lips. Tony stared at Tank's body, enjoying the big 
man's submission. Then I ordered Tank over to the incline bench, where I told 
him to use the thirty pound dumbbells and squeeze off eight reps of incline 
flyes, another great chest exercise.

Before Tank could open his mouth to complain, I gave the clamps a good twist to 
remind him who's boss. He let out a howl and I roared, "Do you have a prablem 
with that?" He obediently shook his head and, with his concentration focused 
back on his pecs, sat on the incline bench and did the flyes in strict form like 
a good boy.

He was a beautiful sight pumping that iron. His huge pecs alternately contracted 
and relaxed across his broad chest, his shoulders writhed in a blatant display 
of power and strength, and his cannonball arms grew to near-inhuman proportions. 
The man was a monster. But he was my monster.

And if Tony and I thought the muscle show was a beautiful sight, then watching 
those clamps turn Tank's swollen nipples into concentrated pain receptors was 
nothing short of fantastic. They were tenderizing his tortured nipples and 
searing a memory of that workout into his brain that he'd never forget. By the 
look on his face, I could tell he was hurting something fierce.

But if his face said one thing, his erect cock said another. It belied Tank's 
pained expression by pointing up at me through his briefs like a loaded howitzer 
just itchin' to go off. All Tank needed was someone to pull the trigger. And, 
dammit, that someone was going to be me.

I had Tank repeat the exercises four times. He was exhausted by the time I 
finally let him stop but, man, you should have seen his chest, shoulders and 
arms. He was pumped bigger than a fucking house!

He looked so hot I was having real trouble controlling my baser instincts. The 
way my hard cock and aching balls were screaming for relief, it was all I could 
do to keep from throwing Tank down and fucking him right then and there. So I 
did the next best thing. I took the clamps off his tits.

Sure enough, Tank's pecs were so pumped and tender that when the blood hit the 
nerve endings in his nipples, it zapped him like a bolt of lightning. He let out 
a howl of pain and almost doubled over.

"No you don't!" I yelled. "Stand up! I want those tits pointing skyward! And 
keep your fucking hands by your sides!"

I gotta hand it to the kid, he might have had tears in his eyes but he stood up 
and thrust out his chest like a man. And he stayed like that, too, when I 
started grabbing handfuls of those heavy slabs, groping them and massaging the 
buggery out of them. Then I started pounding them with my fists and generally 
giving his chest a heavy workover.

Before long I could feel Tank responding, flexing his pecs and resisting my 
rough attention. That's right, kid, I thought, fight me. Fight me hard. But Tank 
wasn't fighting and I knew it. Just the opposite. Any man with muscles welcomes 
the chance to show off the results of his work, to be inspected and compared, to 
be admired. I respect that, so did Tony.

"Okay, flex!" I ordered. "Swell that chest, tighten those pecs. Come on, Tank, 
let me feel those big tits bust outta that skin. Impress us, man. That's right, 
fucking impress us!"

When he hunkered down into a most-muscular pose I grabbed those large inviting 
nipples of his and spun them back and forth like dials to help him along. 
"That's it, kid. Keep flexing and straining. Flex hard! Harder! Now, hold it. 
Hold it right there!" While he held the contraction, I bent down and took his 
left nipple into my mouth and sucked hard. His man-tit instantly responded to 
the oral stimulation. In no time I had him moaning and groaning and gasping for 
breath.

Sometimes I'd gently nip with my teeth at those big mounds of pec-flesh and 
other times I'd suck them deep into my mouth and grind them, grind 'em good. And 
then sometimes, for a nice change of pace, I'd flick over his nipples with the 
end of my tongue, tickling the red-hot nips just enough to let him know I was 
there. After all the rough stuff, this seemed to drive Tank the craziest. It's 
true, you know, sometimes less is more.

The way my balls were churning I knew I wasn't going to last too much longer 
this time round. I took a quick glance at the glistening blobs of pre-cum oozing 
from Tank's penis through his briefs and figured he was damn close, too. Time to 
go out with a bang, I thought.

I groped at and chewed on his heaving man-tits for a few more seconds, then told 
him to go lie face-down on the examination bench while I picked up a few toys. 

Tony watched fascinated as I fastened the leather restraints to Tanks wrists and 
ankles to immobilise him.

I pulled a lever at the side of the table and the section supporting Tanks 
massive pecs dropped away. With the huge weight in each of them, they hung down 
well below the level 

of the table. Tony and I both cupped our hands under each of Tanks pecs and felt 
the weight of them.

After his huge pecs had received a rough fondling of his relaxed pecs for 
several minutes, Tank seemed to calm down. Fondling can do that for a guy.

Then I fastened a couple of vicious Dutch Demon clips to his nipples. When I 
clipped weights onto each clip his nipples were stretched down from his chest. 
The expression of pained pleasure on his face was downright heartwarming. Man, I 
could hardly wait until we really got going and that weight started jumping up 
and down and jerking like crazy on those clamps. The teeth would make mincemeat 
outta those swollen nipples and then he'd really be fucking ecstatic!

I looked at Tank's massive back and his arse muscles bulging from the briefs he 
was still wearing. Tony stared at the same briefs and pulled them down to expose 
Tank's hot buns.

Tank started to shake his head. "Please Sir, no, not that!"

I couldn't tell if Tank was just role-playing or for real. Tony just stared at 
us, then leaned over and whispered to me:  "Fuck the arse off him - any guy with 
tits that big deserves to be raped real good!"

Tank's pearly gate was a tight little fucker. "Oh no Sir!" Tank moaned as I 
began to penetrate him. Tony reached over, grabbed the clamps on Tank's nipples 
and squeezed them hard. He got close to Tank's ear and sneered, "Open up your 
arse and take it like a man!" Tank was trying to relax, but my dick's on the big 
side so it took some time and a lot of pressure before I could slip my cockhead 
past his sphincter into his arse-hole. All the while, he's moaning and groaning 
and rolling his head back and forth.

Once my cockhead was in, though, I decided I'd been Mr. Nice Guy long enough and 
it was time to get down to some serious fucking. I took a deep breath and, with 
a grunt, rammed my cock right to the balls up that tight tunnel in one quick, 
gut-bustin' thrust.

Going by the look of wide-eyed surprise on his face, you'd've thought Tank had 
never been fucked before. Maybe he hadn't! Anyway, he let out a holler, his 
knuckles went white gripping the bar and I thought my dick was a goner the way 
his arse clamped down on it. The man's body sucked me into his butt.

Even better was how my tits felt once I got going in my Fucking Mode, what with 
the way the alligator clamps' teeth bit into them and tugged them every time I 
buried my dick up Tank's tight arse. My own tits were on fire, they were hurting 
so good. And like they always do, the flames in my tits fanned my burning balls. 
It wouldn't be long now . . .

Tank was moaning and squirming with pain and pleasure. He was now right into 
getting his arse royally fucked and I could tell that the clamps on his tits, 
with their added weight, were speeding him right to the ultimate pain point 
where I wanted him to be. He was fucking awesome the way his muscles contorted 
and writhed all over his tanned upper body, the way his oversized nipples were 
caught in the clamps and pulled up from his carved pecs, the way his skin 
glistened with sweat under the dim iights and that look of total tit-induced 
absorption on his face. Fuck, he 

was hot!

By now I was panting like a bellows and sweating like a pig as I rammed my cock 
again and again into Tank's tight butt. When my balls had a sudden spasm I 
gasped "Any second now! Any fucking second!" and started pounding harder and 
faster.

"Fuck me, Sir! Fuck me!" Tank grunted as he unclipped the clamps from his tits. 
Just like before, only worse, when fresh blood hit those starved nerve endings 
he roared "OH FUCK! MY TITS... THE PAIN!!" and started thrashing around like he 
was getting hit with 20,000 volts. He was in agony.

Tony reached down, barely touched Tank's cock and it started spurting thick, 
creamy wads of cum all across his abs and chest. Some even hit him in the face, 
there was so much force behind it. I was right, he did have a fucking howitzer 
between his legs.

All this thrashing and bucking around triggered a mindblowing explosion in my 
own balls. Throwing back my head to give a good hard tug on my tits, I let out a 
roar to match Tank's and damnnear passed out as I was hit with one heavyduty 
contraction after another. A steaming load of gism rocketed up my cock and 
blasted out my pisshole deep into Tank's. heaving gut. It felt like I was 
shooting bullets!

Tony frantically jerked himself off over the musclestud as he groped at his 
body. As he neared his climax, he picked up a pair of pliers and clamped them 
hard onto Tank's left nipple.

Tank arched his back and screamed with the pain as the cruel metal caused a 
searing pain to shoot through his swollen man-breast which quivered 
uncontrollably with the pain. Hot cum gushed out of Tony's cock and splashed all 
over our muscle victim...

Man, it took a long time for Tank, Tony and me to recover from that first 
workout. Sometimes the first is the best. I'm happy to say that ain't so in our 
case. It just keeps getting better. We had a good time that weekend, getting to 
know each other in and out of the playroom. Turns out we were both what the 
other was looking for. Tony visits too when he gets hot for a muscle work-out.

You should have seen Tank at work the following Monday. I made him wear his 
tightest Tshirt so that even when he was standing still there'd be some pressure 
on his supersensitive nipples and he'd keep remembering the weekend. And when he 
moved around, man, he was in absolute agony. I liked that.

Now, unless I tell him to, he won't wear a shirt at work. He's proud of his huge 
pecs and the big, pain-worked nipples on them. On Fridays, when we're all 
sitting around having lunch and talking about strippers and which is the best 
part and all, Tank'll look me right in the eye and say "Tits." And Tank ought to 
know. He's got the biggest pecs in Texas.

What I have is Tank . . .

--------------------------------