Of gods and growth

by RoidTeen   

The gladiators of eternal Rome wore little to hide their manly forms—so when there is growth, it is not hidden from pitmates and admirers alike.

Day of decision

Sextus Barbatius Ennecus stood on his balcony on the top floor of his villa “Ludi Crescita” and looked at the training ground below him with mixed feelings. His last two gladiators were training with their instructor Narcissus. The owner of the Ludi, the gladiator school, sighed and thought about when exactly his decline had begun. More and more fights his gladiators were losing and they were dying off like flies. Of course, this was the daily routine in this kind of fights—but people wanted to be entertained. Exciting duels and an epic finale. But neither could his fighters deliver. So he could participate in fewer and fewer events, gained no money, could not buy new fighters and so the spiral went slowly but inexorably down. Socially it destroyed him as well as financially. His wife disappeared in one night with their common son. The heir who was to take over all this. But... what was it exactly?

He had already inherited the “Ludi” from his father and now wondered if he never really had his father’s skills? His eye for a man’s abilities may never have been as good as he had hoped.

A clearing of his throat snapped him out of his dark thoughts and the gaze of his blue eyes turned to Narcissus. The Hispanus had been bequeathed to him by his father. He had been the most successful gladiator of that school in his time and then appointed to train the new fighters. Although he had not been in the arena for a long time and the ravages of time were also gnawing at him, Narcissus was always the epitome of strength. At 6’2” and well over 220 pounds, he impressed every new slave and you just wanted to obey him. The sweat after his early morning workout made his tanned skin sparkle and glisten.

“Magister. A word?” the instructor asked and with a slightly lowered gaze. A nod followed and while Sextus left the balcony, Narcissus entered the building. The two fighters outside sought out the shade and drank the little water that was provided.

Sextus approached the man and although he had the money, the prestige and the power, he always felt small around his closest confidant. The “Magister” had been too much affected by the years of prosperity. Literally. A fat belly bulged outward from his tunic and his arms, as well as his double chin, wobbled slightly as he descended the stairs. “What’s up?” he wanted to know, looking at the symmetrical face of Narcissus.

“These two... won’t survive the day, Magister.”

No information that was really new to the owner of the school. “That’s not going to happen. It shouldn’t happen. Do you realize what will happen if they don’t?” Sextus was in danger of losing his temper in front of his slave and reminded himself to be careful. He could not show weakness. He cleared his throat and declared, “If they lose, you are useless to me. And if you’re useless to me...” He left the threat hanging, feeling incredibly idiotic himself. The Hispanus was a close confidant, an advisor who always stood by him. And physically he was so much superior to him that the threat seemed almost ridiculous and desperate.

Narcissus knew better, though, and just nodded. “I will remind them again of the importance, Magister.” The muscleman bowed and went outside.

By the evening of that same day, it was clear. Sextus had lost everything. His last two gladiators were dead. His reputation had been dragged through the mud once again. He was a laughingstock. Wife and son lost. What was left for him?

The prayer

The cliff where the Magister de Ludi Crescita stood went steeply down and ended in the sea, which broke several times on the rough rock formation. Despite the dim light, the waves and sharp stones were clearly visible. So this was how it was going to end for him?

In his last act of pure despair, he knelt down, folded his hands and spoke to heaven: “Gods! Give me a sign! Give me insight! Give me a reason to go on living! Give me a sign and I swear I will become your faithful servant!”

The sky did not crack. The earth did not shake. No golden light followed. It simply remained silent. But what had Sextus been thinking? Gods...

“Get up!” commanded a voice so deep that the ground almost trembled, and the authority that lay within it could not be countered. Sextus stood up as and turned around to make out the source of this male bass. What he saw made him travel his eyes wide, and almost at the same moment sink back to the ground.

“A befitting stance, little human,” the voice continued, and Sextus looked up again to take a closer look at this god. The man was around ten feet tall and of handsome build. A six-pack on an impossibly narrow waist with beautiful Apollo belt led into two thighs the circumference of which would probably correspond to the current abdominal girth of Sextus. The chest was peppered with fine hair and each of the muscles was as big as a pillow. The arms, strong and full of veins could crush anything and everything and the shoulders explained why the giant wore only a simple toga around his hips. The face.... The face was out of this world. Symmetrical. Masculine. Angular. Intimidating, yet inviting. The god’s eyes rested on Sextus, sparkling an unnatural red.

“Mars... god of war. You shame me with your presence,” the imposing deity said, interrupting his admiration. “I heard your prayer and offer you a bargain that is in both our interests.” The god’s stare bore into Sextus, and he waited, shivering.

“I have chosen a new champion,” Mars announced, and it was clear to everyone that he had fucked a mortal and created a demigod. “He needs to be trained. I will send him to you, you will train him, and in a year you will send him on the journey to Alexandria. In return, your fighters will always be victorious and receive a touch of my power. Do you consent?”

Who was he to bargain and haggle with a god? “But what...if he loses and dies?” Sextus wondered aloud.

The giant laughed uproariously, and in the distance birds took off in fright into the night sky. “You amuse me, little man. Mind your tongue.” Mars paused briefly and considered further. “You seem to lack faith. Let me prove it to you and in return, you will receive another task from me. In a year, when you let my champion go, you will build me a temple in your estate. A shrine and swear that each of your gladiators will become a follower of Mars. Declare your devotion to me. To war. To passion in battle. To bloodshed.”

What did Sextus have to lose? He nodded and spoke humbly, “As you wish, Mars. God of war.”

The new recruit

“We have... visitors, Magister,” Narcissus explained uncertainly. After yesterday’s defeat, he was unsure how his lord and master would react, and then to have a visitor at the door. It was a rarity, but the master nodded with a thoughtful expression.

“Invite him in and show him to the reception hall.”

The Hispanus nodded and walked back to the large, locked main gate. In front of it stood a boy no more than 19 years old, of slight build. Clothes hung too large from narrow shoulders and a simple sack was probably all the possessions the boy carried. As instructed, Narcissus led the youth into the reception hall where his Magister was already waiting.

The Hispanus would never dare to say it openly, but Sextus was not a good master. Neither did he know anything about fighting, nor did he have much experience in running this school. His father had died too quickly, leading to the decline of a life’s endeavors. Sitting wide-legged so that there was room for his ever-expanding belly, he eyed the mismatched pair. Narcissus was twice the man this boy was. “What’s your name?” asked Sextus straight out.

Hesitantly, the slightly too high voice answered, “Eroticus Prisca, my lord.”

The look of the master continued to be uninterpretable. “And what brings you here, boy?” he pressed.

Again hesitating and uncertain, the boy answered, “An... an inner voice, my lord. I want to fight. I want to become strong. My whole existence cries out to prove myself. I want to prove myself. Become a hero.” Narcissus had to control himself not to smile. The boy had balls. You had to give him that.

“Undress, boy,” demanded Sextus, and with a now blushing face, Eroticus disrobed.

Revealed beneath the flowing tunic was a picture of misery. The boy must have traveled long. The body was scrawny and seemed to break like a twig in the wind. He had no chest to speak of, his arms were without definition and his stomach showed the malnutrition of what must have been a long journey. The boy’s privates showed a few hairs, but the penis was also of small growth and the testicles were small.

He was already preparing to escort him back outside when his master addressed him. “Narcissus. He gets one of the free chambers in the training camp. You guys train him. There’s a new tournament scheduled in four weeks. I want to see him ready for action.” To the newcomer he added, “Maybe the training and the fight will bring you honor, glory and a little chest hair. You have a year to prove yourself. Otherwise, you’ll end up in the gutter.”

The expression of pure incomprehension was on the teacher’s face. Sextus could not be serious. Not only was he delivering this boy to the slaughter, but he was further ruining the already desolate reputation of this school. Maybe he was actually crazy? But Narcissus was too much of a slave to voice a concern aloud. He nodded and repeated, “In four weeks, the boy will be ready to fight victoriously or die honorably.” Privately, he knew the latter was more likely by far.

The Hispanus had seen a lot in his 30 years. From Hither Spain he emigrated with his father to Italy to find his fortune there. When his father died, leaving behind a 15-year-old, awkward son, Narcissus quickly had gone off the cliff. It hadn’t surprised him that he was sold to this house as a slave at the age of 16. But it was the best thing that could have happened to him. His mind had a task; his body, exercise. His whole existence had a purpose. In the now 22-plus years he had served the school, the man’s brown eyes had seen much. Agile and nimble fighters. Technically proficient fighters. Muscle-bound war beasts.

But as the training proceeded, it became clear that Eroticus was something entirely new. He fought with the speed of a flying arrow and the determination of a raging torrent. Narcissus was not convinced by speed and grit alone, but the longer he trained the man, the more he saw in him a fighter who could perhaps save this house. The energy that the youth displayed was unparalleled, and this despite the fact that the sun in May was already merciless.

The physical transformation of the boy was also... interesting. With a speed unknown to Narcissus, the boy seemed to grow. The thin little arms showed signs of biceps. The legs grew stronger from run to run. The belly was adorned with four bulges after only a week, thanks to training and now regular eating. Maybe, just maybe, Narcissus thought to himself, the Magister had seen more in him than anyone wanted to think.

After three weeks, Sextus ordered his confidant to his office. The Magister was busy with various traders, bookmakers, and betting offices. He seemed so sure of victory. Did the lord perhaps know more than he wanted to admit? “How is he doing, Narcissus? What does your experience tell you?”

The Hispanus thought for a moment and then spoke quietly, “I cannot tell you what my experience tells me, Lord. For I have never had such an experience.” Wondering what this cryptic statement meant, Sextus prompted to continue speaking. “He is a quick learner,” Narcissus explained. “He understands quickly. He’s good at assessing combat situations. I haven’t come across a fighting style like his before. He is quick, but there is such power and precision in his strikes. I am… optimistic that he might have a good chance...”

The Magister listened and continued to look at Narcissus. “So, what? It sounds like you have something else to say.”

The slave was undecided whether to mention this at all. Sextus would see it either way, though. “It’s... growth, sir. I have seen many men here. But his growth seems extraordinary.”

Incomprehension spread through Sextus’s gaze. “His... fighting growth? Get specific, by the gods!” he commanded.

Narcissus replied, “Let me show you.”

A short time later, the Hispanus entered the room again with a person almost unknown to Sextus. The boy was no longer a boy. He had the youthful features of a 17 year old in his face, but the body was steeled. His shoulders were broader, his legs strong and defined, and veins ran down his arms over his small biceps. He was far from a physical competitor to Narcissus. But the progress in just three weeks was tremendous. The six pack was defined and the breathing was still fast and excited. Eroticus had been working out and sweat glistened on his tanned skin as the scent filled the small room. His gaze continued to be directed downward.

“Ah. It seems to me that you have found your purpose, Eroticus?”

The boy, or, rather... the young man nodded. “Yes, sir. Have thanks for your trust.”

Sextus was surprised again—the boy’s voice had deepened as well. It reminded Sextus strongly of another powerful bass voice he had heard not that long ago. “You may both go,” he ordered, waiting quietly until his two servants had left the office. Only then did a smile of victory steal onto the man’s lips.

A bright future

That night was a celebration. Granted, it was a small celebration. Sextus drank wine for himself and looked forward to the rosy future that lay ahead. The battle, which was only a few hours ago, was phenomenal. Eroticus, having overcome the initial excitement and nervousness, had only played with his opponent. At no point did his opponent gain the upper hand or manage to catch the gladiator off guard. The speed and strength that the boy combined within himself was unseen. Many of the other fighters could handle fast opponents. The others had no trouble with brute strength. But this, almost unholy combination, no one could oppose. So the newly crowned gladiator “played” with his opponent and gave not only a fantastic show, but also an epic finale. The crowd cheered, applauded and was almost ecstatic.

Sextus looked at the many bags that lay on his desk. All filled with gold. Of course, he had bet the last of his money on Eroticus in advance from many middlemen. But he trusted in the abilities of the god Mars and his offspring. He believed. This boy was a goldmine. And with more time... what kind of fighter would he become?

On the other side of the estate, in the cells and the cellar vault for the gladiators, Narcissus and Eroticus sat together and celebrated with beer and mead. A Germanic brew of treacherous sweetness. The few wounds Eroticus had sustained had been tended to and seemed to be healing well. Narcissus looked at the man in front of him, who had not undergone any great physical change in the last week—but there was no sign of the boy of four weeks ago.

“You fought well. Just as the lord wishes,” Narcissus praised the boy again. He had to be careful. Too much praise and it could quickly go to a warrior’s head and make him arrogant. Arrogance killed as many men as the sword.

A broad smile appeared on the young man’s lips. “Have thanks, teacher. It is only thanks to your help that I was able to prove myself today.”

Narcissus nodded appreciatively, even if he couldn’t quite claim the praise. The Hispanus eyed his counterpart and had to enviously acknowledge that his youthful body was taking the training well. Muscle after muscle seemed to be growing and thriving. Eroticus’s voice had once again deepened and the first hairs appeared on his chest. The loincloth also seemed fuller and fuller. As the gladiators washed together, Naricssus could not quite hide his envy there either. The boy’s privates had also begun to grow. Euphoric from the victory and the salvation of the Ludi, he drank his beer empty and thought about what kind of fighter he would become.

Much changed over the next three short months. Bustling activity began before sunrise, which was very early in August. Due to the many and entertaining victories of the young Eroticus, the school flourished and grew to its old size. Sextus could afford more employees again. Society accepted him again and parties were often held at the estate. Everyone wanted to have a look at the boy wonder. No one could be blamed, either. The lanky boy who knocked on the door that day was forgotten. In the glow of the midday sun, the inner image of a man stood in the square. Eroticus grew in all directions. His height was now almost equal to that of the Hispanus. Standing at 6’2” tall and with muscles of unimaginable aesthetics. Broad shoulders that ended in strong arms. Large biceps whose thick veins pumped blood and power. A hairy, broad chest with small scars and dark nipples sat on what had become an 8-pack. The legs were tree stumps of muscle and while the neck grew thicker and wider, the youthful face remained, but the youth had become a man.

Narcissus had to think again and again of various evenings when he saw the man naked. The penis and testicles seemed to be bigger with every fight, with every training, with every day. The seat of his power perhaps? The teacher’s envious feeling carried on, however, as he himself put on his tunic for the day. He didn’t know what it was. But despite his age, Eroticus’s example also seemed to motivate his body to do more. The tunic was shorter than usual. It was a little tighter at the shoulders and around the chest, but looser around the stomach. His strength did not seem to diminish with each passing day. On the contrary. He felt more and more energetic, vital, and young.

When he stepped out onto the training ground, his students followed shortly after. Three more gladiators had joined them in the meantime: young, promising men who trained together with Eroticus and Narcissus and seemed to grow as much as the two of them. Sextus watched the spectacle again from his balcony, and indeed he was the only one who felt negative emotions. While his house was growing and socially recognized again and the victories were piling up, he eyed Eroticus. Four months had passed. Eight remained, and then he had to let him go. But what then? Would his winning streak continue? Would he continue to be victorious?

A blasphemous thought appeared in the back of his mind, too small at the moment to speak aloud. Thoughtfully, he stroked his belly and again the negative feelings resurfaced. While his gladiators grew stronger, more athletic and... prettier with each passing day, so too did he change, gaining every pound. His tunic was also tightening, but only around his stomach. He sighed, trying to acknowledge that he was the steward, not the warrior. One last, envious glance at the steeled bodies whose sweat glistened in the sun and whose appearance exuded potency, power, and virility.

The returned one

“Magister... your son!” announced Narcissus, upset, as he entered his master’s office.

The latter was currently (or still) eating. As quickly as the big man could, he heaved himself to his feet and hurried to the gate. “What... why?” he asked, panting on the way, and while the master was too busy with these questions, Narcissus could observe the gladiators present. A smirk settled on the various fighters’ lips as the fat man tried to get to the gate as quickly as possible. The Hispanus could not blame them. The contrast was just too great. While the Magister weighed in at around 330 pounds, all the other men were more like 240 pounds. But all pure muscle power. There were now a total of seven gladiators and Sextus’s school was increasingly in demand. With the money from all the victories he could buy more and more employees and slaves. He could get more training material. It was like in the old days.

Maybe that was why the son had returned home. In front of the gate stood Tiberius Barbatius Ennecus, firstborn of Sextus. He was already 21 years old and would eventually, fates allowing, inherit and take over the school. But as things went further and further downhill, he and his mother had fled while they could. The woman had arranged a marriage so that her son would be married into a wealthy family. Normally this would have been the father’s job, but she had posed as a widow.

But now the son was before him again. Tiberius, like his father, had a large belly and a rather roundish appearance; nevertheless, he looked handsome and youthful. “Father...” the latter only began to speak and immediately he was embraced by his father. Narcissus was unsure if it was out of sentimentality or out of the certainty that his school would endure.

“—and that’s why I’m here, after hearing all these glorious praises of your school,” Tiberius was saying. He looked at his father, waiting. The two had retired to a private room and Sextus had wanted to know more.

“So you were married off and now you’re here to take up your inheritance? You sound like a vulture to me, son,” he informed him bluntly.

“Father. If I were a vulture, I would wait until your next bite killed you. But I am here and I want to learn from you. I want to get to know this school together with you.” His son’s gaze then turned downward and he admitted, “Father... My wife… We can’t have children. For that reason, we are both... useless. If I had stayed there, we would have been met with ridicule and grief. Mother—”

Immediately Sextus raised his hand. “I don’t want or need to know that.”

Tiberius reached for his wine again and immediately there was a fire in his gaze. “May... I see him?”

The Magister didn’t have to wonder who or what he meant. He nodded and gave an order to a servant, and a short time later Eroticus stood before them. The man whose story was already legend.

The son could only take in the apparition appreciatively. He had heard stories of this lanky boy, who was now considered the personification of power. Grown to 6’5”, only the still youthful but very angular face betrayed that this was a 19 year old man. Although Tiberius was only two years older, they could not be more different. The gladiator consisted only of muscles, strength and virility. His neck, wider than his head, ended in a bull neck, while his two huge pecs still heaved. He was dirty. He was covered in sweat. He was never more manly. The 8-pack was of such depth that you could have hidden entire coins and while the arms hung quietly to the side, they radiated such power. Meanwhile, the old circumference of his waist was that of his arms. Covered with veins, scars, and hair. His legs, grown so muscular that he had to stand wide-legged, kept straining to support the Adonis’s upper weight. The son also cast a furtive glance at the loincloth. Owing to the thick legs, the entire privates were pressed forward and the shape there seemed to vouchsafe the stories and rumors.

“How much does the bull weigh?” Tiberius wanted to know and Sextus looked questioningly at Narcissus, who had entered the room shortly after the chosen one.

“245 pounds of pure manhood, sir,” the Hispanus gave the information. The gentleman had purchased a commercial scale from the market to monitor the progress of his muscle bulls, as he called them. Also, more food was served here than in other schools.

“Remarkable,” breathed Tiberius, sinking into the sight of the man’s body. Only then did his eyes slide to the Hispanus and he had to look twice as well. He knew his father’s confidant from a young age but... something was going on here. Narcissus had also grown. He wasn’t as tall as Eroticus, but he made up for it in muscle. He was a little wider, a little beefier than the fighter. But not by much.

Tiberius was again very sure that coming here was the right decision.

Alone at home

“Really, father. I don’t mind. Go and forge new alliances. I’ll continue to settle in for now,” were Tiberius’s confident words.

After he had arrived yesterday, it was simply too short a notice for Sextus to bring him along for the planned event. He had to be introduced to society first. One did not show up just like that. Besides, there were too many unanswered questions. What would they have to say about the mother? What were the circumstances? It had to be handled carefully.

Sextus nodded. “I am grateful for your understanding. I will see you as soon as I return. But do not wait for me,” he added, before the carriage left the estate.

The son waved a moment longer, but then went inside the house and intercepted the first employee he could find. “Wash and bring Eroticus to my room. Not a word to anyone. You understand.” Of course she understood. She understood immediately and she was jealous. Everyone wanted a piece of this beefcake.

An hour later, Eroticus entered the young gentleman’s room. The latter was refclining on a dining couch and after the doors were closed, he eyed the muscleman. In the meantime, the handsome young face was adorned with a full beard that was getting thicker and longer, and his chest, legs and belly were also getting hairier.

“You called for me, sir?” Eroticus tried to break the silence and bring the man’s eyes to his face.

“Yes, Eroticus. How do you like it here?” he wanted to know.

“I like it well, master. The training is exhausting, but the rewards in the arena satisfy my existence at the highest level.”

A smile stole onto Tiberius’s lips. “Speaking of satisfaction. What about sex?” he asked straight out, causing the gladiator’s head to turn up red.

“I... don’t understand...”

Tiberius raised his hand and explained, “You must be having an irrepressible amount of sex in the cells. After so much euphoria of fighting, it’s got to come out.”

A slow shake of the head was the response. “Forgive me sir, for disappointing you. But no.”

“But don’t you miss it?”

Again the face was red and now Eroticus admitted, “Forgive me Lord. But... I’ve never had...”

A shy giant. Interesting, thought Tiberius. He ordered, “Undress. Then we’ll change that and show you the delights of Venus.”

Hesitantly, Eroticus now began to undo his loincloth, speaking as he did so, “Please do not be frightened. I see the looks of others and must apologize for my appearance.”

With that the piece of linen fell and Tiberius saw the largest penis in his life. It hung long and with those gigantic testicles he seriously wondered how it all fit into that tiny cloth.

Misreading the look, Tiberius placed a hand on his crotch. “Forgive me if I offend you.”

But Tiberius only shook his head and walked toward the man. “You, my great one, are perfect. And after all you have brought to my father, I consider it my duty to say thank you.”

With that, the young gentleman’s mouth wrapped around one of the muscle bull’s nipples and began to suck on it lightly. In record time, Tiberius could feel Eroticus’s hard cock growing ever upward and grazing his arm. A deep moan came from the demigod’s throat and when Tiberius tried to put his hand around the penis, his eyes widened. His hands were large, but his thumb could not touch his index finger. A glance down confirmed that it was no illusion. The cock was of incredible hardness, while thick veins provided power and blood here as well. There were easily 10 inches there in his hand. The young gentleman could no longer control himself and immediately knelt down. Before him now stood the monster of flesh and blood. With a brief hesitation as to whether he could enclose everything, his mouth first wrapped around the tip.

The sound of Eroticus’s arousal made the floor vibrate and Tiberius’s clothing also became uncomfortably tight in his crotch. It was not the first cock that the son worked. One reason, perhaps, why his marriage wasn’t working out. He was into this. Muscle. Sweat. Cocks. The bigger, the better. And he never thought it would be here one day, that he would find the man of his dreams.

After what felt like an eternity, and when he realized that Eroticus was already close, he let go and pointed to his bed. “Kneel down. I will now show you true pleasures!”

Like a well-behaved gladiator, he moved towards the bed and while Tiberius himself stripped off his clothes, he could look at the bull’s trained back. It was a running V. The width of the back was in stark contrast with the man’s waist and the ass... What an ass. It was full and wiggled slightly as Eroticus ran.

“Kneel down and don’t you dare turn around.” The obese Tiberius, whose body embarrassed him compared to the younger bull, positioned himself behind him. His cock itself was not to be sneezed at and of 6.5 inches length yet he was worried if it would be sufficient to even reach the hole. This ass seemed so prominent and gigantic. “It will hurt for a moment, but go for it.”

With that, he slowly inserted his cock with his hand, and at first the bull moaned in such a deep bass that Tiberius worried he was about to cum. After a few seconds of motionless silence, he penetrated further. The deep moans grew louder and only when he got the order, Eroticus pressed his face into a pillow. It only muffled to a certain extent.

How long Tiberius fucked the muscleman, he could not say. In any case, meanwhile, the bull came twice and a small puddle was already forming at his feet due to the large volume. “And the more you grow. The more you win, the more often I will fuck you, cop. Do you understand?” asked Tiberius dominantly

Eroticus gasped, “Yes... lord.” That was enough for Tiberius to climax as well and come, moaning loudly.

Much changed over the following year for Sextus, Tiberius, Narcissus, and Eroticus. The Ludi received more and more attention. There was more and more money. More servants. More gladiators. More muscles. The four men of the first months had changed a lot, thanks to the influence of Mars.

Eroticus was the best example. He grew and grew and grew. His growth seemed unstoppable. He had now broken through the limit of 6’5” and according to the latest measurements it was 6’7” that the mountain of muscle now stood upright. His muscle mass, measurable thanks to the scales of the market, had developed to 341 pounds and although one might think that it limited him, he did not lose any of his speed. Now 20 years old, he was the colossus of Ludi Crescita. He was the object of jubilation, desire, and sex.

Sex especially, from and with Tiberius. The young heir took a liking to his muscle bull and the bull himself also took a liking to the nightly physical exercise. Perhaps that is why he grew so inexorably in all directions. Tiberius himself, however, could not deny the effect of the demigod. If he had been still a doughy boy when he arrived, he was now a trained man. No comparison to his love toy, but considerable. He had also grown upwards and at 6’4 was now taller than his father. The fat was gone and swapped for a six pack. The arms were defined. The face angular. His dick, Tiberius believed, had grown as well. But who could be sure of that when he had the destroyer of Eroticus in his hand. With now well over 12 inches of pulsating, veiny power and testicles as big as clenched fists, everyone felt small.

Especially did Sextus feel the contrast. The owner always had to acknowledge with envy that all the men around him were shooting up, but not him. He stayed at his 5’9 and grew forward. And to the side. More and more pounds lay on the already voluminous body of the man and his clothes had to be made further at regular intervals. With more than 350 pounds, the Magister was less and less likely to be seen on his feet. He was where there was food. A lot of food. He left the management and supervision of the training to Narcissus.

The Spaniard in turn had the physical authority to keep the gladiators in check. He also enjoyed the divine radiance of Eroticus and his body was now also 6’6 high and with 310 pounds he already belonged to the upper league of fighters. The new recruits also grew and prospered in the glow of the demigod. The house had come to old glory and also many of the female nobles, came more often to visit. The chance to see the mountains of muscles in the bright sun with sweaty torsos was enough for eroticism.

Thoughtfully, Sextus lay on his dining couch eating his third breakfast when Narcissus entered the room. One look told the gentleman that he would soon have to trouble the tailor again. The Hispanus lacked the divine elegance, which is why his gait began to waddle. One thigh had to move around the other. Narcissus would be much too slow in an arena. But those days were over.

With a brief clearing of his throat, the dark-skinned man then began, “Magister. Eroticus wishes to speak with you. He... wants to depart. A voice tells him he must withdraw.”

Just as Mars had said. But... Sextus was sure now what he wanted to do. His head resisted the idea of rebelling against a god. Letting Eroticus go, however, was impossible for him. He had to come up with something and declared, “I’ll talk to him tonight. Right now I’m busy.” With that, the slave departed again, leaving Sextus alone with his plan.

Then, that same evening, Eroticus entered the man’s office. Bathed in sweat, a divine and masculine presence filled the room. Only the youthful face, hidden behind a thick full beard, testified to the man’s relative youth. “You wanted to see me, sir?” asked Eroticus, and again it felt as if the entire room was shaking subtly. No one could get a voice that low—unless the father was Mars.

“You’re fucking my son,” Sextus stated calmly and could see the blush of shame on the man’s face. The two men thought they were being careful. Quiet. But nothing escaped the master of this house. And maybe—just maybe, there was a hint of envy and jealousy. Eroticus didn’t seem to know what to answer, so Sextus kept talking. “While I can’t blame him, he is not of your standing. If the others catch on to this...where is my authority?”

He paused briefly, then continued threateningly, “Eroticus. I took you in. I gave you food. A task. I gave you this body. And this is how you thank me?” The giant wanted to intervene, but the Magister immediately headed him off, “I know you want to leave. But you have betrayed my trust. I cannot and will not let you go. Not until you know your place and learn what decency and loyalty mean. Get out of my sight.”

Eroticus clenched his hands into fists Sextus saw and briefly fear sprouted in him as well. But the man only nodded and disappeared into the catacombs of the gladiators.

On Olympus

Such a furious cry raged across Olympus that it was perceived by mortals as rumbling thunder. Mars hurled his sword at pillars and was caught in a frenzy. The fat mortal had kept no part of his bargain. No temple. No Mars worshippers. No Eroticus. And the gods were seen as unfair!

The hatred in his chest could only be appeased by the total annihilation of the Ludi, but even as he was about to descend to earth, a feminine hand wrapped around his waist and then his chest. Light kisses on his neck calmed him again and he could think so clearly that he knew who was behind him. Venus. The goddess of love. His mistress.

“Beloved...what brings you to such attractive frenzy?” the goddess purred, circling him.

As always, Venus wore nothing on her body, and as her fingers slowly stroked the war god’s abs, he replied, “You know very well. You see what I see.”

A smile settled on the woman’s lips and she continued speaking, “But you do not see what I see. You want to destroy where all is not yet lost...”

Mars knew this tone. Venus might be the goddess of love, but she could be just as cold-hearted and devious as the god of war. For in the end, the two were united by a single elemental: passion.

“What don’t I see, dearest?” asked Mars, and he immediately got the answer.

“Sex. As is so often the case. Let me play with the mortals a little, as they played with you, and I promise you Sextus will beg to let your son withdraw.”

Unsure of what this woman’s revenge might mean, he wanted to know, “What are you up to and why are you helping me?”

The woman stood slightly on her toes and kissed Mars passionately. “I can’t stand to see my favorite god suffer and what am I up to? Let me surprise you.” With a rush of waves and the scent of sea, the goddess disappeared from Olympus.

It was late at night. The training areas lay quietly and in the catacombs of the gladiators one or the other could hear snoring. Venus walked in her divine appearance through the underground cellar vault and eyed the muscular flesh. Her mere presence was enough to make one or the other already hard and, along their way, more and more cocks stood up. “Oh boys... don’t,” the goddess purred, walking up to a new recruit. His name was Peniculus and his role immense. He was now the champion of Venus. His example should teach the people not to mess with the most powerful family over all Rome.

In front of the sleeping man, Venus transformed and now took the form of a young man. As in her female appearance, this form was also of unspeakable beauty. No words could describe what slowly lay beside the bed of straw of Peniculus. The hand stroked the incipient washboard stomach of the man who had only been at Ludi Crescita a short time. The effect of Mars through his son was clearly felt in him. This had to come out, and a new empowerment fill him. Love. Passion.

Fingers lightly probed under the blanket and the already half-hard cock responded immediately. In record time, a magnificent 5.5 inches stood upright and the male Venus slowly put his lips around the glans. The tongue caressed the tip and the hand slowly began to advance towards the testicles and the man’s ass. A moan escaped the young man and as the first finger penetrated, Venus could feel him about to come. Quietly lingering to enjoy the fun, she gave the man time to get used to it. Then he took the whole cock in his mouth again and penetrated the sleeping man’s anus with two more fingers. There was strong tremor as the man asleep squirted his warm cum into Venus’ waiting mouth. The latter took it all in and so withdrew the power of Mars and Eroticus from the gladiator.

The now empty vessel was ready for new divinity and so Venus positioned himself with his cock at the anus of the sleeping man. With tender force, the male version of the goddess of love penetrated the young man and a short time later, Venus also came and flooded the man with the gifts of a god. The belly bulged slightly due to the volume of cum, but that should be forgotten in the morning.

Venus transformed back as she entered the courtyard and a mischievous smile graced her lips. She had many children with Mars. Gods. And now he was fucking some mortal? For what? Jealousy drove the goddess to ensure that Eroticus would become completely useless to Mars. Once again the sea was heard roaring as the goddess disappeared.

The trade route

“I’ll be gone for about three months. You have learned enough to prove yourself here on a trial basis,” Sextus explained to his son, who looked a little uncertain.

The Magister had heard from a good friend that there were capable fighters among the Teutons and he now had so much gold that he wanted to see for himself what he could buy. He planned to bring five Teutons into the ranks. The journey was long and arduous, at least for the horses that had to pull the now almost 400 pound-man in the carriage.

“But father... there is still so much to learn and...”

“...And Narcissus will support you with all his skill,” he assured his son. His son, who had become a man. 6’4”, 240 pounds with an ever thinning waist, broader shoulders and even a beard that formed on his angular features. Every pound that Tiberius turned into muscle, Sextus turned into fat. Of course, he was envious and hoped that perhaps Eroticus’s aura would eventually be merciful to him as well. But perhaps, after this test run, he would leave everything to his son and take only the gold. Let the boy work, after all. “It’s the off-season. The fights are of less importance. Just make sure Eroticus is in the arena with you.”

Tiberius could only nod. His father had spoken and he had no choice anyway. Perhaps it was just as well. Tiberius could then talk to Eroticus in peace about why he had stopped coming to his room and why all the valets refused to send him a message. Of course, his father was behind it—he just wanted to know what exactly he had told Eroticus.

The next day, a carriage, two gladiators, and still other members of the traveling party left the estate, and Tiberius stood in the courtyard with Narcissus and Eroticus. As the gates closed the son was sure. He would prove himself. He would make a difference. He would become great in the eyes of his father.

The first month

“I can’t let you do that, young Magister,” Narcissus repeated.

“I want to train with you. I don’t want to be my fat father watching from his balcony. I want to be actively involved. Know the names of the men. Give them a reason to fight. To make them feel like they belong and fight for the house and the prestige. And not just think they its bought slaves.”

Narcissus raised an eyebrow. “But that’s exactly what they are, sir.” Still, he sighed. “I cannot teach you. Your father would never forgive me for that. But...” A conspiratorial smile settled on the Hispanus’s full lips. “I cannot stop you from watching and imitating the exercises. I am not given that much power.” And so it was decided.

The next task for Tiberius was to talk with Eroticus. He again ordered the object of his desire to the bedroom he called his own. The giant entered the room and had to tilt his head slightly to even fit through the door. The sheer mass of the monster before him was already making the leader hard again. Soon even the double doors would not be enough for the gladiator to enter. When would he probably have to turn sideways? Silently, Eroticus stood before his master and waited calmly. His gaze turned downward and thus Tiberius spoke, “What did my father command you to do?”

Obeying the order and apparently also happy to finally be allowed to speak the truth, the gladiator told everything and the junior listened. After a moment of uncomfortable silence in the room, Tiberius announced, “My father is gone. For a very long time. I want to change things here in this time. I love my father, but he’s lost focus and maybe he was never really cut out for this.” Where this sudden confidence and dominance came from, Tiberius himself didn’t know. But it pleased him. “I fuck who I want, when I want, as often as I want. Take your clothes off, Eroticus,” the smaller man ordered. It pleased him very much to have this power over a man who was so much stronger, bigger and more powerful. But it also pleased Eroticus. In the arena, he dominated. He exuded a presence that no one could oppose. But to be commanded here by his master in this way spoke to something deep within him.

Silently, Tiberius enjoyed how the strong, big arms removed the loincloth with some awkwardness. The giant already could not look down properly because of his pecs. His field of vision was dominated by hairy mountains of flesh that rose and fell in rhythm with his breathing. The thick chest hair tickled his nose and blended almost seamlessly with his increasingly thick full beard. His arms and hands were used to rough work from training, and trying to loosen the strings was almost impossible for his gigantic fingers. With some impatience in his gaze, Tiberius asked, “How do you manage to get dressed in the morning?”

The gaze turned downward again and in reply came, “The... smaller warriors help us, sir. Forgive my ineptitude.” So he reached for the leather piece and as his biceps flexed even larger than even imaginable and a web of veins stood out dominantly, he simply ripped it off. With a loud thump his cock came to light which, already half hard, slammed against the massive thigh. Quite centered on the leg lay the cock and already dripping with pre. The testicles were the size of a fist and still resonated briefly due to the wide-legged stance.

Now Tiberius stood up and undressed himself. A few weeks ago he would have been embarrassed by all these muscle beasts. But now... the cloth fell and underneath a trained young man appeared. No comparison to Eroticus, but who could match this muscle monster. The steel hard 8 inches of Tiberius, also grown with all the muscles, stood towards Eroticus. “Put it in your mouth and show me how much you appreciate me as a master.”

On all fours, the gladiator was at a comfortable height to work the tail of the magister. It was an incredible picture. The man, who was almost twice as tall, twice as trained and twice as heavy, was blowing the smaller one who could only moan loudly. His father was gone. He had the power. He could do whatever he wanted. “You... have... practiced... your skills... are.... Remarkable,” Tiberius tried to force out between his moans.

Eroticus eased off the cock and took a strong hand, placing it between his lord and master’s thighs. A thick finger penetrated the anus while the deep voice spoke, “A new recruit... Peniculus... he teaches us everything. Our energy is so high... a simple training... is not enough for us anymore. We need more...exercise, sir...”

Then he followed his original task again and continued to work the tail. “So... be it,” Tiberius announced and came in a loud cry.

The innovations

After that night, a lot changed at Ludi Crescita. For gladiators, servants and owners. The gladiators trained naked from now on. Of course, Tiberius had announced the advantages that the fighters would be ready for action faster and the smaller ones would not have to dress the bigger ones. But absolutely everyone was aware of the purpose. So now 12 completely naked Adonises trained daily in the training area. Only Eroticus was allowed a band with which he could fix his fat 13 inches at the height of his navel. All this eroticism resulted in many of the new recruits walking around with permanent erections and coming spontaneously. Weekly weighing and measuring was instituted so that progress could be monitored and the newcomers in particular could be encouraged to do more.

The servants in the house were all exchanged for male versions and they too were soon bathing in the pure, erotic radiance of Eroticus. Or rather, Peniculus. The chosen one of Venus did not have to be active. The sexual aura of his goddess led to spontaneous outpourings and the intensified love for each other. In the evening, after a hard day of training, it continued in the catacombs of Ludi. Hard cocks rubbed against increasingly muscular bodies. Tongues, lips and legs intertwined. The smell of sweat and cum was permanent in the room and dominant. The young magister in the middle of this river of flesh and love.

More workouts. More sex. More growth. Everything was happening faster now and you could see the results every day. On the last day of the first month, Tiberius looked through his books. Here was a record of everyone’s success. He had some successes to report to his father.

Narcissus, for example. The instructor, now 39 years old, looked younger every day. The wrinkles faded, the lips became fuller and he grew. Like all of them, actually. He too was now almost 6’5” tall. Weighed 320 pounds according to the scales and was probably blessed with a big cock right from the start. A limp 9 inches dangled daily between his legs.

Peniculus, a promising new gladiator, grew faster than all the others. Only here for a few weeks, he already measured 6’4” at 230 pounds. His beauty was indescribable and he was the object of many desires. His face was symmetrical. His charisma was sublime and yet wild. And his penis grew the fastest of all together with his testicles. 8.5 inches with lemon sized balls. Of all, he was the most potent.

Tiberius himself, now participating in the training and fucking Eroticus into the wee hours of the morning, could see the change in himself. 6’5” tall. 268 pounds of bulging muscles and a defined 6-pack. 8.6 hard inches. But even these were slowly not enough for the monster to overcome the full butt cheeks and penetrate him.

Eroticus was a colossus. His 6’9” height ensured that Tiberius could work the man’s huge nipples standing up and press his head into the deep crevice of his hairy chest. But even with all the force, the man’s pecs could not be pushed in. His muscle mass and definition was out of this world. 374 pounds of pure masculinity. A wide stance was conditioned by his legs, whose circumference was equal to the waist of his servants. Thick arms whose biceps, as big as a head, rested on his lantern muscles. A neck that no tunic could have covered. On it, the face of a god. Symmetrical. Full lips. A strong chin. Pretty eyes. And last but not least, 15.7 inches. Impossible for Tiberius to even begin to take in. But...

He broke off and closed the book. The trembling of the floor announced his evening pleasure. Eroticus accompanied by Peniculus entered the reception hall. It was no longer possible to handle this mass of men in the bedroom. It all took place now in the main hall. Both of the gladiators were already hard and pre dripped from the tips of their cocks. Just the brief moment was enough for a puddle to form under Eroticus. Tiberius smiled and walked toward his men. His father would be proud of the growth of his company.

The new business model

Tiberius lived, worked and managed the estate with unprecedented zeal. The few fights that were held in the off-season were of pleasant insignificance and, unfortunately, of little financial benefit. Although his gladiators dominated the arena, one had somehow become accustomed to the mountains of muscle. Eroticus, in particular, was somehow... familiar. As Tiberius sat wide-legged on his chair one evening and one of his servants massaged his massive shoulders, grazing his nipples from time to time, he thought about what to do next. Something new was needed. Something that would continue to drain the gold out of the Romans’ pockets. The problem was also the rising cost of living. The men needed food. Lots of food. A lot of food. The dwellings would soon not be enough either.

“Shall I massage your penis as well, master?” asked the youthful servant. Like everyone here, the male servant was changing. Not as much as the actively fighting ones, but he was nice to look at. A perfect six pack, defined arms and a full butt. His question was very clear to understand, but Tiberius declined. He dismissed the man and went out to the balcony. The cool evening air made him shiver slightly in the absence of any clothes and his gaze searched the place. After it was known with all the sex, a few of the gladiators always strayed into the courtyard. He saw a group of three new recruits whose physiques were more than promising. The three were engaged in passionate kissing and rough hands kept squeezing and rubbing hard cocks. A slight moan was heard the rubbing of the musclemen was enough for Tiberius to get hard too and right at that moment, he couldn’t be bothered about his erection. He had the idea.

It still took almost two weeks until everything was prepared, but then the evening had come. Through careful advertising, of course always behind held hands, three young men stood in front of the door deep in the night. They were the offspring of the large and prestigious families. In other words, the rich. Narcissus opened the door and one could see fear as well as pure admiration in the eyes of the men. It was one thing to see the gladiators in the arena—a completely different thing to stand in person before such a monster.

“Enter, dear sirs.” Naricssus spoke in a deep bass, bowing slightly as he cleared the door. He wore a simple silk cloth around his shoulder which was long enough to cover his privates. But the noble fabric was not opaque. A noble cord around the narrow waist held it in place. The gatekeeper escorted the small delegation into the main hall and already one of the visitors had to struggle not to let his erection become too prominent under his clothes. The room was full of muscular men in little to no clothing. Their bodies were grown and rubbed with fine oils, which only made the definition look more unnatural in the candlelight. A servant of trained build approached the group and wordlessly handed a tray of light appetizers.

“Our lord and master will join you in a moment, dear sirs,” he spoke in a calm and quiet voice.

The gladiators, known only from the arena, were here to touch. And that’s exactly what was going to happen. “A good evening to you, young men,” Tiberius’s voice rang out. As the other three turned around, none could suppress their amazement. It had been a long time since the young scion of Sextus had been seen in the arena. Normally he let the servants and Naricssus do the fighting. It was therefore very amazing to see this male masterpiece.

With a height of also now almost 6’6” and a weight of 285 pounds, the 8-pack came out wonderfully. Here too, of course, everything was oiled so that he shone even more than he actually already did. He wore a long silk coat, but it was open, revealing his perfect body. His crotch, much like Narcissus, was covered by sheer fabric only for form’s sake. “I am pleased that the path has led you to me. You know the rules?” The lordlings nodded and thereupon everything took its course.

During the two weeks, Tiberius had spread the rumor that with enough gold, one would be allowed to touch and eye the fighters up close. Homage, worship, handjobs, milking, everything was allowed as long as the gladiator agreed. And everyone had to be naked. So three money bags exchanged hands and Tiberius was surprised at how quickly the three gentlemen were stripped. This was clearly a good idea.

Up from Olympus, Venus watched the whole spectacle with amusement. Mars was on a warpath and she could play with his stuff as long as his attention wasn’t on the demigod. Maybe, just maybe, she had also whispered a word here and flashed a tantalizing smile there, triggering the war. But what could anyone prove against her? She would make sure that Mars would regret having fathered a demigod.

Lack of space

During the day: the training. Every evening: more and more people who wanted to have cocks, muscles, sex and much more. Of course, this made the bank full. But it also made the estate very full. Because of the almost permanent physical training, his gladiators grew like crazy. Of course, Tiberius could not know that Venus had her hands in the game and through Peniculus the energy level increased incredibly and the presence of the demigod Eroticus generally promoted growth.

His men exploded, and above all Eroticus. He now stood at 7’5” tall, ate for five warriors so that his 432 pounds were supplied with nutrients at all and his cock had to be put back into a pair of pants made especially for him. He was almost 20 inches and with his melon sized testicles you almost felt like you could hear the sound of sloshing with his sperm. And there came the problems. Eroticus could no longer sleep in the catacombs. He was just too big. His pecs made sure he could no longer look down. His neck, now at ear level, fixed his head even further. His arms were no longer able to bend far. He had to be fed. He needed to be shaved and his ever increasing libido provided a permanent run of pre from the tip of his cock. After a moment of still standing, a puddle formed under his feet.

However, he could move even better, unlike Narcissus. The Hispanus lacked the divine elegance and agility. He remained at a height of 6’5, but the weight and muscles continued to add. 366 pounds he weighed-in and his run was just a waddle. He could no longer teach the recruits properly in some cases. And Tiberius? He had even less training. But he had more sex. He had more problems getting up every day. He also did not grow more than 6’5”, but 330 pounds he had more to move around now. It recently had started two servants to even get him out of bed.

But none of the muscle monsters regretted it. All had only sex, growth, muscles and cocks in mind. All thanks to the chosen one of Venus. Peniculus was largely immune to the growth caused by Eroticus. He stayed at 6’4 and even the muscles didn’t grow as fast as others. Just 242 pounds. A lightweight and all the beasts. But his cock was a whole other issue. Eroticus might have the longest with 20 inches. But Peniculus already had 17 inches swinging between his legs and the thickness and girth was equivalent to an arm. He could only walk with his legs wide apart so that his testicles, which were also gigantic, had any room at all. His cock swung with an incredible heaviness and it was he who had to be milked several times a day and only promoted more sex through his highly potent sperm. Everything in the Ludi Crescita exploded with mass. And there was no end in sight.

Welcome home

The carriage bumped along the road, setting the massive body of Sextus Barbatius Ennecus in vibration. Although the journey did him good and he had lost a good 20 pounds, but with still 374 pounds, he was anything but fit or even close to a comparison to his gladiators. He was especially looking forward to this one. He hoped his son had everything under control and was confident and joyful to see his Stallion. He was gone for three months and in tow he even had ten new slaves. Hairy, battle-hardened and already muscular Teutons that would enrich his collection. He would be the undisputed champion of the arena.

A short time later, Sextus stood in the entrance hall of his Ludi and his mouth was open. He was stunned and could not understand exactly what he was seeing there.....

When he left the carriage and no servants came, he was already latently astonished. Also, when he saw no one exercising in the courtyard at that time of day, an eyebrow went up questioningly. When he smelled sweat and cum and heard the groans in the entrance hall, it dawned on him. But deep inside him was a hope that he was wrong. However, when he saw the incomprehensible mounds of flesh, he knew that Mars had cursed him.

On the ground lay Eroticus. His boy wonder. His gold bull. Whereby bull already did not do justice to this body in the description. Although he was lying, the chest was almost as high as the owner of the Ludi. He estimated the lying height of the Behemoth at just under 7’7. He had stretched all fours from him, as the mountains of muscle also left him no other option. He was just too big. Too muscular. He was immobile. The books would say later that he weighed in at just under 670 pounds, but then he couldn’t even get on the scales for the last two weeks. His testicles were gigantic and even though he was lying there wide-legged, they were being pushed up by his thigh muscles. His cock lay above and was half hard? Or completely hard? 32 inches protruded into the air and a light stream of pre flooded everything below.

The really surprising and shocking thing at the same time was the person sitting on the belly of the muscle behemoth. 6’7 tall and built like Eroticus before his departure. Or bigger? 352 pounds of pure muscle moved rhythmically while the gigantic cock disappeared between Eroticus’s hairy pecs. But the tip was close enough to the giant’s mouth for him to work it. A face-fuck combined with pec-fuck. The pecs of the “smaller” one wobbled with his movements and despite all the ecstasy, the young man turned his head and grinned broadly. The features were of an angular masculinity and it took a moment for Sextus to recognize him. “Welcome home, Father... I have great news!” announced Tiberius, panting and sweaty.

The father’s attention then went around the room and muscular men were having sex everywhere. They were kissing. Rubbing against each other and touching each other. Circling Eroticus and Tiberius, who were fucking right in the middle of the room, he got another surprise. Unaware that Venus’s chosen one was in charge of all this, he could hardly put this man into words. He was clearly smaller than everyone else. But he made up for that with a cock that couldn’t possibly be real. Over 40 inches long and as thick as the waist of one of his servants, and many hungrily drank the intangible flow of cum. Sperm? No... it was too light... that was all just pre. Peniculus looked around with satisfaction and nodded to his master, pointing invitingly at his cock. There were already six people licking and feeling him, but at this size there was still room for one extra person. The testicles of the monster were almost twice the size of the man himself. The potency he radiated was incomparable to anything.

“Sir...” a wheezing and voice said behind him and at an inconceivably slow, wobbling pace the Hispanus appeared. He also approached nearly immobility, restricted by all muscles and the lack of divine strength. 440 pounds was not something a human, normal body could handle. He wonder if his son would soon feel the same way. What did he have to do? What could he do? Narcissus wanted to tilt his head, as in the old days, but his mouth and chin disappeared behind his breasts. The back of his neck barely allowed movement.

Looking over the orgy and all the muscle-bound beasts, Sextus realized one thing. He had incurred the wrath of the gods. He was ruined.

On Olympus

“What. Have. You. Done?” asked Mars through clenched teeth. Anger dominated his whole appearance, but Venus was not frightened by it and said saccharine sweetly, “I have solved your problem. For two days your little mortal has been asking you to take your offspring back. He just can’t send him away, unfortunately. At almost 880 pounds of pure muscle now, the poor demigod can’t move at all...”

Eyes blazing with anger, he looked at Venus and said, “And how exactly, am I supposed to use him for my wars? The monster is immobile and only his cock is still able to move.”

The gaze of the love goddess remained unchanged, but the warmth left her eyes as she stroked Mars’ chest, “Think very carefully, dearest, about who you’re going to fuck soon and who you’re going to tell all about it. To love belongs passion, and jealousy as well...”

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