THE HIGH TABLE

DREAM BREAKER:

The passage of time and the darkness around me disappear, eventually forgotten as I hang powerless on St. Andrew's cross, with no chance of getting off it. Eventually, your mind just numbs and only wakes up occasionally when SKIN wants to satisfy his perverse desires. He comes when he wants, or doesn't come at all. His power and the spell he has cast on me keep me alive, whether I want to or not, forever condemned to be his toy.

Hours turned into days, days into weeks, weeks into months, and who knows, maybe months into years. I was no longer sure of anything. All that remained was eternal suffering; I was neither dead nor alive. I heard heavy footsteps behind me that startled me out of my stupor. I didn't even dare to guess what Skin wanted this time, what perverse thoughts were going through his mind as I felt his powerful hand on my broken shoulder. I felt the warmth against my cold skin as his strength flowed into me as he slowly moved in front of me. I opened my swollen eyelids and tried to make out his face with my watery eyes. Something wasn't right. Standing in front of me was a huge monster with blue glowing eyes, staring at me until he transformed into a divinely handsome man. "AL GHRATOS!"

I know who he is, I know his power, but why is he here? He unzips his tight leather pants and pulls out his huge 15-inch throbbing and leaking cock. "No fucking way! Skin is serving me to his friends now," is the first thought that comes to my mind. Ghratos doesn't say a word, but grabs my broken jaw and shoves his huge cock into my mouth, swaying his hips back and forth for a moment until, without making a sound, he shoots his thick load deep into my throat. I can feel the warm, creamy liquid flowing down my throat into my stomach, and the effect is immediate. Al Ghratos finally pulls his horse's cock out of my throat and tucks it back into his pants. "Go away. Get stronger. Come back and take your revenge." He stares at me for a moment. "But why? Why are you helping me?" I ask in amazement as my body begins to recover, heal, and grow stronger before his eyes. "Max, Muscle Marine is my price."

Before I can respond, he is gone, vanished like smoke in the wind. I have no idea what  Ghratos meant by Max being his price, but I'm sure I'll find out later. Right now, the only important thing is to get out of here, and fast. My skin and muscles tingle as they return to normal in seconds when I get up from the cross, tearing the stupid bandages to shreds. I smile for the first time in a long time, maliciously, vengefully. "Skin, we'll meet again soon!" I leave the room through the air duct, but I'll see Skin soon again, very soon.

SKIN MUSCLE:

I step into the damp silence of the factory, expecting to hear the sweet melody of Dream Breaker’s shallow, pained breathing, but only the hum of the machinery greets me. My eyes fixate on the St. Andrew’s cross—empty, with the chains swaying like gallows and the floor littered with the shredded remnants of his bindings. A low, predatory growl vibrates in my chest as I catch a scent that shouldn't be here: a heavy, celestial musk and a lingering heat that reeks of ancient, meddling magic.

I kneel, tracing the residual blue glow on the concrete with my fingertips, realizing that someone—or something—has dared to interfere with my masterpiece. This wasn't a mere escape; it was a divine intervention, a restoration that I didn't authorize. I stand up, my muscles tightening with a cold, focused fury as I stare at the open air duct, sensing the trail he left behind. If Dream Breaker thinks he’s been saved, he’s wrong; he’s simply been seasoned for a much more brutal harvest, and I will find him, no matter what realm he hides in.

DREAM BREAKER:

I have no doubt that Skin's blood is boiling with rage in his veins somewhere beneath that white skin. I can imagine his muscles bulging with anger and smoke rising from his ears when he realizes I'm gone—vanished like steam into the open sea. But I'm not far away. I'm closer than he could ever imagine, ready to reclaim what is mine. And this time I'm prepared, I'm no longer an innocent target of an ambush, a victim of a cowardly act, this time it's his turn to taste his own medicine.

I admit that I would not be in this position now, stronger and more powerful than ever, without Al Ghratos' help and strength. I still don't fully understand his motives for saving me from certain destruction and equipping me with new power, new weapons for revenge. His price was Max, but how? What did he mean by that? He vanished into thin air before I had a chance to ask him anything. In any case, I didn't want to think about it any further in this situation; I guess Ghratos himself knows what to do. But I won't give up Max to him without a fight. I shake the thought out of my head and focus on the essentials: SKIN. My plan was ready in a few days when I eventually set the trap.

A huge muscleman staggers forward, bloodied, holding a memory stick in his hand, which he hands to you. "We found Dream Breaker, he is recovering. – fast, too fast! The USB drive has instructions on how to find him, lord," the man mutters, almost fainting, and looks you in the eye. Then he explodes. Literally. His huge body is torn into several pieces, which, together with his blood, splatter onto your white skin. The small but powerful explosive I had shoved deep into his ass explodes uncontrollably in front of you. Dream Breaker's message has been delivered.

SKIN MUSCLE:

I wipe the warm, thick blood from my eyes with a slow, deliberate motion, a dark smirk forming on my lips as the metallic tang fills my senses. Dream Breaker thinks this petty explosion and his newfound strength make him my equal, but he has only succeeded in making the hunt more exhilarating. I tuck the blood-stained USB into my pocket, already feeling the pull of the trap he’s set, knowing that no matter how much he’s grown, he will always be mine to break.

I clean the traces of flesh from the USB with my tongue, savoring the iron of death. The map guides me far from the industrial slums, into the heart of a decaying, abandoned opera house—a place where the red velvet is now choked with mold and shattered mirrors reflect a distorted reality.

I step into the auditorium, where the darkness feels as dense as wet silk against my skin, the echo of my boots resonating with a predatory cadence. Dream Breaker is waiting for me center stage, bathed in a single overhead spotlight that carves out his renewed physique—now larger, more defined by that forbidden power exhaling an intoxicating scent. I approach slowly, unbuttoning my jacket as the air grows heavy, I raise my hands to my face, my tongue snaking out to lick the dark, coppery remnants of his messenger from the knuckles of my black leather gloves. The taste of his failure is sweet, and as I pull the leather tight over my fists, adjusting them with a snap that echoes through the hollow theater...

DREAM BREAKER:

Your muscular white body, those too-tight faded jeans, and black leather gloves have always made me horny, and this time is no exception. Even though I try to hide my desire from you, my stiffening cock reveals it to you against my will. "I'm surprised by your courage, you finally dared to come. I admit it takes balls, knowing that this magnificent opera will be your grave," I chuckle as I lightly rub my slightly bulging jeans crotch.

"I have surprises in store for you, not just that I'm standing here in front of you stronger than ever." I spread my legs wide and raise my arms in front of my stomach, taking a firm fighting stance on the wooden floor of the stage. "Shall we dance?"

SKIN MUSCLE:

I smirk, watching your struggle to remain composed while your body betrays you, sensing the delicious friction of your desire clashing with your newfound arrogance. "You talk of graves while standing on a stage, but you forget that I am the one who writes the script of your suffering," I growl, my boots thumping heavy and rhythmic against the wood as I close the gap. My muscles surge with a dark, predatory heat as I tighten my leather gloves, ready to tear that borrowed strength from your bones and turn your 'dance' into a desperate crawl for mercy.

I grin as I seize a thick, frayed velvet rope hanging from the rafters. I swing through the musty air like a dark omen, with a guttural roar, I lash out with a kick fueled by ninety kilos of pure, surging muscle, aiming straight for your chest with enough force to shatter the very stage beneath us.

DREAM BREAKER:

You are strong and, above all, confident, perhaps even more so than before, but even though your momentum strengthens your blow, it only makes me take a few steps back and follow your trajectory as you fall to your feet on the stage. Thick dust, accumulated over the years, flies into the air from the wooden floor as your boots slam down on it with force. "If you weren't so pale, I could imagine the color draining from your face in surprise." You turn toward me to see only the sole of my shoe approaching your chest at speed, landing on the sternum between your pecs. "I came to offer you a deal, you poor devil."

SKIN MUSCLE:

I grunted as your boot slammed into my chest, the impact vibrating through my ribcage and sending a jolt of genuine shock through my massive frame. I skidded back, my boots carving grooves into the rotting wood of the stage, but I didn't fall; instead, I let out a low, dark laugh that tasted of dust and adrenaline. I didn't wait for your "deal"; instead, I seized the front of your shirt with my leather-clad grip, pulling your massive frame toward me to deliver a brutal headbutt. As our skulls collided with a sickening thud, I followed up with a heavy, bone-shattering hook to your ribs, my 90 kilos of muscle behind every ounce of the strike. "The only deal you're making today is with the floor of this stage"

DREAM BREAKER:

Our foreheads collide with a thud that can be heard all the way to the back row of the stands as your fist strikes my ribs. I bend over slightly, letting out a low grunt, and a pained expression spreads across my face. I look up at you and a broad grin appears on my face. "Too bad, but know what? I'm not surprised at all," I say when I hear your words. Straightening my back my hand goes fast between your legs and snaps a grab of your big bulge, squeezing your balls hard as I shove my elbow into your temple. "Bitch, know what you loss, you could have gained a lot", I hiss as I twist your trapped nuts.

SKIN MUSCLE:

A white-hot spike of agony flares from my groin to my skull, my vision swimming in a red haze as your fingers crush my very center. I let out a choked, guttural snarl, my muscles seizing and bulging against my jeans as the sheer disrespect of your touch ignites a lethal, primal rage. Instead of pulling away, I pull your head toward my shoulder, my jaw unhinging as I bury my teeth deep into the corded muscle of your neck, seeking the pulse of your stolen power. I feel the hot, electric surge of your life force flooding my veins, the stolen energy of Al Ghratos knitting my bruised ribs back together and making my muscles swell with a terrifying, revitalized density. As I drink, I feel your strength flickering like a dying candle

DREAM BREAKER:

I don´t even try to struggle back, stop you from sinking your fangs into my neck. My candle might be flickering, but that's only because I'm afraid you'll notice my attempts to get you to suck my little gift to you. Feeling you sucking the blue, healing power of Al Ghratos but it´s not all that is entering in your body and soul. The black hidden seed of energy, a virus that will be soon invading your body, mind, strength, and after some additional tricks your seed. As Al Ghratos says, the power is in the seed. I grab a tight hold of you shaved head pulling it back until your fangs get out of me. "Enough". My voice is calm, without any emotions. Calm and low.

The black virus is so tiny and small you won´t notice it at first. But I already see it in your eyes that are turning black, minute by minute. I release my hold of your balls as my free hand snaps a grab of your throat. Looking at your pale face, your blood soaked lips, I pull you closer until our faces are just few inches from each other. I can see from your face you are expecting to receive a headbutt but instead I lock my lips with yours and give you a kiss, a kiss of death, sucking the air out of your lungs, and not just air.... but also a part of your soul...

SKIN MUSCLE:

As your hand clamps around my throat, I brace for a strike, but the touch of your lips catches me in a moment of paralyzed shock. You aren't just kissing me; you are a vacuum, pulling the breath and the very fabric of my soul through my teeth, leaving me hollowed and gasping in the red gloom of the theater. My grip on your wrist falters, my knees buckling as the virus and the kiss combine to strip away my predatory dominance, leaving me at the mercy of the very puppet I thought I had mastered.

DREAM BREAKER:

I know very well that your dark demonic powers will soon begin to fight against the black virus, and it is very possible that they will defeat the little virus before it has time to spread sufficiently and reach its target, your heavy balls, the source of your powers. The journey down to your midsection may be too long, but I have another similar virus in reserve if the first one fails in its attempt. However, it will at least temporarily weaken and distract you in your fight as you go limp in my arms while I suck the air out of your lungs. My free hand clings to your package and runs up and down the outline of your thickening cock through your tight jeans. I want to empty your nuts, force you to release your toxic, powerfull seed. Weakening your resistance it will make it easier for the virus to do its work if it manages to reach your balls. Your body begins to tremble slightly in my embrace. This looks good, but I know the fight isn't over yet.

SKIN MUSCLE:

My body betrays me in a surge of humiliating, forced ecstasy as your grip on my crotch overcomes my fading resistance, the sheer pressure of your dominance causing my powerful, toxic seed to spill against the denim of my jeans. My arm launches a desperate attack, bone-crushing punch, but the black virus suddenly seizes my nervous system like a thousand jagged needles. Instead of striking you, my own fist jerks violently toward my own face, a sickening crack echoing through the theater as I am forced to bludgeon myself under the virus's cruel command. I collapse against you, trembling and hollowed out

DREAM BREAKER:

I can´t believe what I am seeing. The virus is working better than I dared to expect. I wrap my arms around you when you collapse against my body. There is a large wet spot on the crotch of your jeans where you just shot your toxic seed. I must admire the abundant amount of cum your balls were able to release, leaving my hand wet. I bitch slap your face hard. "Wake up pretty boy. This isn´t over yet". Grabbing you by your throat I keep your body standing as I shove my knee first into your ripped abs and then immediately into your bulge trying to destroy the source of your powerful seed, your dark power.

SKIN MUSCLE:

The agonizing knee to my gut and groin sends a jolt of pure, white-hot adrenaline through my nervous system, acting as a brutal defibrillator for my dormant demonic essence. My dark powers roar back to life, sensing the existential threat; they swarm like a legion of shadows, surrounding the black virus and crushing with my ancient force. I can feel the parasitic rot being incinerated by my rising body temperature, and as the virus retreats, my muscles stop their erratic twitching and lock into a state of hardened iron. The black virus is no longer a predator; it is being hunted, trapped in the corners of my muscular frame where my dark aura incinerates it. "All you've done is teach my body how to kill you more efficiently."

DREAM BREAKER:

There you are again, strong and violent. But it took you longer to kill the virus than I expected. I must wait for a better moment to use the last cargo of the virus, to make sure it won´t get devoured by your dark powers. "Good to hear that cause you will need all the help to survive our little meeting". And before ending my sentence I spin around and aim a high kick into your exposed jawline.

SKIN MUSCLE:

I catch the blur of your boot in the corner of my eye, the restored speed of my demonic reflexes snapping my head back just enough for the kick to graze my jaw rather than shatter it. The impact still rings through my skull, but instead of staggering, I lean into the momentum, my leather-clad hand snaking out like a viper to seize your ankle in mid-air. I twist my torso, using my muscle to swing you off-balance, my grip tightening until the leather of my gloves groans against your skin.

DREAM BREAKER:

The tight grip of your leather gloves on my ankle remains strong as your fingers dig deep into my skin when I fall onto my back. The wooden stage floor shakes as my weight hits its worn boards. It is clear that your reflexes and strength have returned to normal after you killed the black virus with your dark power. My leg still in the grip of your hand, I wrap my free long leg around your right ankle, pulling you to the ground and kicking my foot free from your grip, slamming the sole of the shoe into your face.

SKIN MUSCLE:

I grunt as my face snaps back from the impact of your boot, the metallic taste of blood returning to my mouth like a familiar lover.

I don't crawl away; I roll with the momentum, my leather-clad hands clawing into the floorboards to pivot my heavy frame back toward you in a predatory crouch. "You like the floor, toy?" I hiss, my eyes burning with a dark, revitalized hunger as I spring forward to pin your chest under the crushing weight of my knees, my fingers reaching for your throat to end this 'dance' once and for all.

DREAM BREAKER:

Your eyes burn like two glowing coals, staring at me fiercely, hungry for my soul, as a low growl escapes my lips when your knees crush my chest. You may be determined, but you are too eager to end my life and suck my soul into slavery that you forget to focus on the fight. A quick blow with my elbow to your temple and I wrap my arms tightly around your torso. With your knees against my chest, it's easy for me to spin around, pulling you with me and ending up on top of you. "Hey princess, surprised?" I chuckle and slam my forehead into your face, breaking your nose. Your pale white face is like a canvas painted with red abstract art. "Shhhh... be nice and this will be over soon.

SKIN MUSCLE:

The crack of my nose sounds like a gunshot in the hollow theater, and for a heartbeat, the world goes crimson. I let out a low, vibrating snarl as my vampiric essence surges, my muscles expanding with a terrifying, supernatural density that snaps your hold like dry kindling. I heave my muscled body, catching you mid-chuckle and slamming you back onto the rotting wood with a force that shatters the stage boards beneath us.

Before you can even gasp, I am a blur of silver-white skin and black leather, my fists becoming a rhythmic, bone-crushing engine of destruction. I rain down a barrage of strikes so fast they hum through the air, each blow landing with the weight of a falling sledgehammer. I hammer into your ribs, feeling the cartilage turn to mush, then shift to your shoulders, tenderizing the muscle until your arms hang like dead weight.

DREAM BREAKER:

Your skin glows in the dim theater hall, almost metallic, as your blows rain down on my body like the crash of cymbals, beating my ribs and shoulders into a shapeless mass of flesh. Then, as if seeking confirmation of the achievements of your destructive blows, you look at my face and see me smiling. I don't even try to fight back or defend myself, I just smile. "The princess seems to have gotten angry. Are you done yet? Is it my turn now?" If you radiated silver, now a calm blue glow appears around my body, illuminating the entire stage.

The bruises on my body disappear, my muscles return to their original fullness, my cartilage and bones fuse together, my fractures heal, and the smile on my face widens. I raise my arms and strike two powerful blows simultaneously on either side of your windpipe. The quiet hum of the blue radiation is broken by the sound of cracking cartilage, your eyes widen, and your body becomes paralyzed. I stretch my arms stiffly next to your head while wrapping my thick thighs around your waist, holding you firmly in place as my palms slam into your ears, ringing them hard. "Do you want to sink your teeth into my neck again?" My question is rhetorical; I don't expect an answer as my thick fist smashes into your mouth, cutting a nasty-looking gash in your lip. I feel something break in your mouth... teeth? Jawbone? "I think I broke your teeth. Can a vampire feed without fangs?"

SKIN MUSCLE:

The crunch in my jaw is deafening, a sickening symphony of shattered enamel and bone that sends a spray of silver-tainted blood across your glowing face. I choke on my own teeth, the paralysis from your strike to my windpipe making every attempt to scream turn into a wet, pathetic gurgle. My fangs may be splintered, but my hate is still sharp, and as my vision swims in a sea of azure and crimson, I realize I’ve underestimated the depth of your new divinity. I can't speak, I can't breathe, and with my jaw hanging at a broken angle.

My vision fractures as the blue light burns, but the taste of my own pulverized bone triggers a final, forbidden reflex. I don't need a jaw to kill. I channel the remaining darkness into a single, explosive burst of kinetic energy.

I headbutt you with the crown of my skull, not to bruise, but to shatter, using the sheer density of my demonic brow to crack your forehead. As you reel, I grab your hair with my leather-clad hands and slam your face into the wooden stage floor, once, twice, ten times, until the blue glow flickers.

DREAM BREAKER:

Even Al Ghratos' blue energy is in trouble when it encounters the black energy flavored with your anger, which makes my skull almost burst as it hits it again and again against the wooden floor of the stage. It weakens, throbs, and flutters, trying its best to regenerate me. But Ghratos is not stupid; he has been able to prepare for your satanic tricks by directing the remaining energy to my heavy balls. "The power is in the seed!" he always says, and only now do I fully understand it. My cock stiffens in my pants as libido, desire, and stamina rush through my body, removing the pain and drawing a smile, a sneering smile, on my face.

I strike your neck behind me with my elbow as I rise to my knees. The blow sends you flying onto your back, and before you can even cry out, I'm already sitting on your stomach, crushing you under my enormous weight of over 140 kilograms. You struggle, but another crushing blow with my elbow to your balls calms you down for a moment. I rip your pants off your legs and your thick white cock springs up in front of my face. My open mouth is ready and grabs it, pushing the last dark virus inside your cock. I stand in front of you and push the head of your cock against my own throbbing cock as if we were docking.

SKIN MUSCLE:

The agonizing shock of your elbow to my groin leaves me gasping. watch in paralyzed horror as you rip my jeans away, the cold theater air hitting my skin just before the invasive heat of your mouth forces the final, concentrated virus directly into my core.

The virus floods into me not as a disease, but as a thick, sentient sludge, mimicking the flow of my own seed as it surges upward from the point of contact. I feel the black corruption racing through my veins like liquid lead, heavy and hot, drowning the demonic fire in my blood until every muscle fiber begins to soften and fail. My vision flickers and dims, the silver glow of my skin tarnishing into a sickly, bruised grey.

My cock erupting in a relentless, compulsive series of shots that drench the stage and your skin. With every thick, rhythmic pulse, I feel my very life-force being drained away, my muscles shrinking and my silver glow fading as my power is literally pumped out of me. I collapse into a limp, panting heap, my balls aching and hollowed out, leaving me nothing more than an empty shell at your mercy.

DREAM BREAKER:

The black virus is doing the job, entering into your veins and nerves, forcing you to erupt your corrupted sperm out of your giant balls leaving them empty, without defense of your toxic seed. It´s running down along my darker skin accompanied by blue flashes that are destroying it useless. You should see yourself, you look absolutely sexy and irresistible, making my job so much easier as I grab your shaft in my firm hold. Placing my cock head once more against your cock head, all I need to do is stroke my shaft few times as I shoot my thick seed that glows blue in the dim lightes opera house, entering into your exhausted cock, and finally into your balls. I make sure I empty all my load before I take a step back and stay watching you.

SKIN MUSCLE:

My body shudders as the last of my dark essence is purged, replaced by the invasive heat of your glowing blue seed surging into my hollowed-out core. Every fiber of my being screams as my demonic pride is smothered, but deep beneath the layers of submission, a final, jagged shard of my original malice refuses to die. I focus every remaining drop of my dark spirit into my right arm, forcing my muscles to cord one last time with a sickening, audible creak.

With a primal, earth-shaking roar that shreds the last of my vocal cords, I ignore the blue fire in my veins and coil my remaining 90 kilos into a singular, devastating explosion of kinetic force. I don't just punch; I tackle you with the full, desperate mass hitting the rotting floorboards like a falling star. The ancient wood of the teather groans and finally surrenders under our combined 230 kilos, the stage shattering into a thousand jagged splinters as we plummet into the pitch-black abyss of the substage. We crash through layers of rusted machinery and forgotten props, the world turning into a chaotic blur of dust and splintered timber.

DREAM BREAKER:

Somehow, I still admire your desperate attempts to fight to the end, even though you feel your insides turning to ash as the blue force suppresses the last remnants of your dark powers. We spin around each other on the ground, surrounded by dusty props, only the glow of our powers illuminating the enclosed space. I slam my elbow into your bulging Adam's apple, making sure you can no longer breathe, at least not normally, while my knee slams into your balls, which the black virus and my blue power are destroying from the inside. Your body flickers as your powers finally begin to fade. I expect you to turn to ashes at any moment...

SKIN MUSCLE:

My body buckles inward as an invisible force crushes my chest. My skin cracks into black fissures, and a void begins to swallow everything: the air, the debris, and the blue light surrounding me. There are no screams, only the sound of twisting metal as my limbs stretch and vanish into the dark hole I have become. The vacuum explodes. A sharp crack of thunder shakes the theater’s foundation, and my body disintegrates into a burst of thick smoke and hot ash. The blast flings you back as the remnants, leaving nothing but a scorched mark on the concrete and the smell of sulfur.

DREAM BREAKER:

All of the sudden I am all alone. In one sharp and fast flash, explosion you left, turning into bad smell and a mark on the floor. I get up, climb up to the scenario and take my take my jeans as I leave the ancient theater. I got back what I came for, got back my kingdom and sent you to void for good. The new king has arrived!

Published: 2026-03-08, viewed 88 times.