Hero Punishment

The Hercules Challenges - Chapter 1

The man in the black leather arm chair busily scribbled notes on his yellow legal pad.  He listened intently to what the man was saying lying next to him on the black leather couch. The couch had no arms or back and was tilted up at one end.  The man lying on the couch was a giant of a man. His body occupied every inch of the large couch. His feet dangled off the end and there was no side room for his well-muscled arms forcing him to clasp his hands together on his chest as if praying. He may well indeed have been praying for he was a troubled man.

“So what is on your mind today? I was surprised to get your call for an emergency session,” asked the man in the arm chair. “You tell me doc, you’re the shrink” said the man on the couch. “Come on now Max. I’m a shrink, not a psychic.” said the doctor. The giant patient grumbled, sighed and said, “I know how it works Doctor Marquis.”

Doctor Samuel Marquis was a successful middle aged psychiatrist and his office was big and masculine decorated in dark woods and leather. A star wrestler in college, his athletic career was ended by a freak weightlifting accident in the gym which crushed his chest and nearly cost him his life. After he recovered from his injuries, he attended medical school and specialized in psychiatry. Several graduate degrees later, he is a well-known and wealthy doctor in West Los Angeles with a large clientele specializing in athletes in particular the massive egos of Muscle Beach bodybuilders.  You don’t need a 20 inch bicep for an appointment with Doctor Marquis but it wouldn’t hurt.

The doctor is toned and fit about 6 feet 1 inch and 200 pounds, a far cry from most of his clients who start at 250 pounds of solid muscle in competition season. He is clad in a dress shirt open at the neck and tailored slacks. His suit jacket is slung around the back of the black leather arm chair. His Italian leather shoes glisten even in his dark office. He has one leg up with ankle across knee holding his yellow pad of patient notes.

“So let’s try this again Max. What’s on your mind?”

Doctor Marquis’ patient is Max Atlas. Max’s impressive physique includes a 50 inch chest, 21 inch biceps, wide and thick muscled back, small waistline to shoulders, tree trunk quads, glutes as hard as steel and a ripped set of abs not often seen on bodybuilders of his size. He is 6 feet 2 and 270 pounds as he lies on the doctor’s couch. He has been bigger and heavier in the past but has lost some of his mass this year as his job has taken away a lot of gym time.

He is wearing a tight white tank top under a Hawaiian shirt which exposes his hard cleavage and jeans that show every cut in his thick quads and calves not to mention his hard muscle ass. Sometimes he is in sneakers or sandals even flip flops, but today he is in work boots loosely tied.

He has a full head of thick brown hair but that is the only hair on his body. Keeping his muscle smooth is almost a full time job given his hairy DNA but he is dedicated to it. His looks are below average but his body is so supremely muscled that people rarely notice.  His family is Midwestern Protestant and over achievers with two sibling doctors and one lawyer on Wall Street. He receives attention wherever he goes and he knows how to use it to his advantage but he rarely acts on his appeal to either sex. Humble and often thoughtful, Max Atlas is one of the least cocky bodybuilders you will ever meet. Oh and speaking of cock, he claims to have the smallest cock he has ever seen in any locker room in any gym.

Now in his mid-thirties, the three- time former Mr. Muscle Los Angeles is at a crossroads. He is dedicated to his job but he has few friends outside of work and there is no love in his life now or anytime in recent memory. He has so much going for him but he doesn’t see it. According to Doctor Marquis, he is trapped in a world of low self-esteem and self-doubt. His visits to Doctor Marquis have become more frequent and necessary. He is a troubled man.

“I was having a bad day yesterday”, Max said woefully. “The captain was riding my ass harder than usual and nothing was going right. I got a text from the dominant. He wanted to see me.”

“And since you are here with me today,” said Dr. Marquis, “I assume you got together with him.”

“You know Doc, they should pay you more than they do. You are so perceptive,” Max says sarcastically.

“Max,” Dr. Marquis said, “Nobody likes a smart ass.”

“Well maybe that’s my problem Doc, all my brains are in my ass.”

“Max, you have a muscular hard as rock ass but your brains are not there” said a mildly perturbed Dr. Marquis. “Tell me what happened during your meeting with the dominant.”

Max sighed then began, “I went to the gym and went immediately after that to his place still in my sweaty gym gear with no shower.”

“And why did you ….” Dr. Marquis starts to say before he is cut off by Max.

“Because that is what he told me to do,” the humiliated muscle man said. “He wanted me still sweaty from my workout. May I continue?”

“Please do Max.”

Max sighed and, struggling with his shame, continued. “He ordered me to undress which I did. He inhaled the aroma of each piece of my gym gear especially my jock strap. “

“How did that make you feel Max?” the doctor asked. “It made me feel filthy but, at the same time, appreciated and worthy of attention,” Max said.

“Are you going to ask me that shrink garbage ‘How does that make you feel Max’ after everything I say?”

The doctor responded, “Would you rather I did not?”

“Please don’t Doc. Just let me get through this all at once and then you can analyze the fuck out of it. OK?” Max asked.

“OK Max,” Doctor Marquis conceded.

 The muscle man continued his story. “After he was done sniffing my jock, he ordered me to a spot and then ordered me to raise my arms. He rubbed and worshipped my biceps and, oh by the way, it felt fuckin great. But then he chained my wrists to two chains dangling from the ceiling and then he shackled my ankles together so I could not move my legs. I was completely immobilized by the chains and then he began to rub my massive pecs and ripped abs. He rubbed my huge quads and massaged my monster calves. I felt like all the hard work I have put into my massive muscles in the gym was being appreciated and worshipped. I was lovin it. It turned me on to be honest.” 

Doctor Marquis shifted in his seat and adjusted his crotch. Max wasn’t the only one turned on. Max deliberately punctuated his domination stories with comments regarding his muscle size and hardness for the obvious pleasure of Doctor Marquis.

“Then he started to punch my rock hard pecs. The punches started softly but quickly became hard and powerful. Then hard punches to my washboard abs. He hit every slab on the money and after about 30 minutes or so, it really started to hurt. I asked him to ease up but he told me to shut up, called me “a piece of muscle shit”, and stuffed my stinky gym jock into my mouth gagging me. He continued to pummel me with punches and squeezing my huge biceps like a vice. I was really beginning to feel hurt and beat up after about an hour. I got all these bruises on my ceps and abs. That’s why I’m wearing this lame Hawaiian shirt.”

“He let me hang there for awhile, bruised and gagged. When he returned, he had all kinds of weapons like a whip and a crop and a long wooden paddle. He used all of them on my muscle. First, he used the crop to torture my big nipples. Got them so raw this muscle shirt is almost painful to have on with it rubbing my raw nips. Then he used the whip to lash my chest and back. It fuckin hurt but I screamed into the jock stuffed in my mouth so he didn’t know I was in pain. When he didn’t get much reaction from me with the whip, he took out the wooden paddle and slammed it across my already sore pecs and abs. Also, against my thick quads. It hurt like a mother fucker but that was nothing until he jammed the end of the paddle into my ab layers, punishing each one with a jam or two. I spit out the gag and screamed. “

“He was pleased with himself after that. He laughed at me and made fun of my little cock. ‘All those muscles and such a tiny dick. What a pathetic muscleman!’ He laughed and laughed. He grabbed my junk and squeezed it hard. I tried not to scream but I screamed anyway. It hurt like crazy Doc. My cock and balls are sore, my nips are raw, I have bruises all over. He stopped laughing and unchained me. Told me to get out. He told me I was pathetic and weak. The bitch about it Doc is, if he texted me today, I would be there in a minute. Is that fuckin sick or what?”

“I said, ‘Is that fuckin sick or what?’ Doc.” “Oh is it my turn to talk now?” said Doctor Marquis.

The muscleman looked to the doctor for a response to his story. “That is quite an episode Max, but no, it is not ‘fuckin sick’. You are exploring new avenues of pleasure and excitement for yourself. Who is to say that it’s not right for you to have enjoyed the session? We enjoy what we enjoy Max. Finding what that is for you is an important step. It may not be everyone’s cup of tea but you are not everyone. You have unique physical attributes and a unique life story. I would be more concerned if you did not enjoy it but wanted to return. The fact that you enjoyed the session despite the pain and the bruises is the important point here. It’s healthy to want more of what you enjoy. I’m not concerned about your mental health in this regard.  I am concerned that you may need some medical attention for the bruising.”

“I’m all right Doc. I heal easily,” said the bruised muscleman. “Yes, but,” the doctor said, “I still think you should have them looked at by a professional and make sure you are OK.” Max said, “Well aren’t you a professional Doc?” Doctor Marquis said, “Well yes of course but…” The doctor stopped in mid-sentence when Max got up from the couch and removed his Hawaiian shirt and tank top. Max Atlas stood shirtless in front of Doctor Marquis. His smooth muscle physique was something to behold even bruised, it was beautiful thick muscles from fingers to waist.

Slightly flustered, Doctor Samuel Marquis stood up and inspected the bruised muscle god. He had dark bruising around his biceps, pecs and particularly his abs. His substantial nipples were still bright red and tender. He accidently brushed his nipple and the muscleman nearly jumped out of his skin. Still, Max Atlas was a muscle stud and the doctor could barely hide his bulging crotch in his dark slacks. The bruising was severe but Max would never see a medical doctor about it. He would have to tell the story or make one up and that wasn’t going to happen.

“I could write you a prescription for the pain if you like Max,” the muscle struck doctor said. “No thanks Doc,” said the giant patient, “You know my body is a temple and I don’t put that stuff in my body. Besides, I still have medication left from the last time if I need it.”

“OK, well if I can’t convince …” The doctor was interrupted again. This time, it was Max’s cell phone. Max’s ring tone was the theme from the Sons of Hercules movies of the early 1960s. The doctor chuckled to himself about how appropriate it was for the muscleman as Max turned away still shirtless to answer the call.

“Yes sir,” said Max and turned back to Doctor Marquis after the short phone call. Max had a confused dumbfounded look on his face. “Max, what’s wrong?” asked the doctor. “There has been a murder and the Captain has asked for my assistance with the case. He asked for me specifically.” Max said. “I thought you were not in the homicide unit anymore Max,” the doctor said. “I’m not. That is why I’m so confused.” said LAPD Detective Max Atlas. “Well that is good for you then right?” asked the doctor helpfully. “I hope so Doc,” said the stunned police detective. “I hope so.”

Max, in a fog after the phone call, put his shirts back on his bruised body and left the office almost without thanking the doctor. “Thanks Doctor Marquis,” said Max as he was halfway out the door. “I’ll see you next week, usual time?” asked the doctor but he received no response from the detective as he closed the door with an office shaking thud.

Published: 2026-06-12, viewed 57 times.