Gay Erotic Stories

He held this pose with great concentration and murmured to Euryale, in a low pitched but excited voice, "Howz'bout this si'double biceps? Like it?" Euryale placed a hand upon the heavy trapezius muscle between Mike's shoulder and neck. She gave the firm muscle a gentle appreciative squeeze. With a big smile full of desire, she told him, "Oh, THIS is quite fine, my pet! Quel magnifique!" And even as she caressed his torso, Mike slowly exhaled with a grunt, to bring harder definition to the abdominals and obliques. Veins curled in thick prominent ridges across his arms and chest. The sculptress gasped in pleasure and ran her hands up along either side of the bodybuilder's thick corded neck. There, she felt his pulse banging heavily within his arteries. Her palms moved to and fro along the hard masculine line of Mike's jaw and neck. She felt the athlete's scratchy beard of day-old stubble, while he held every muscle of his body in the perfectly intense flex. "Oh, your muscles are so large and wonderfully defined. Even before I start, they look and feel so perfectly dense and heavy, just as if they were already cast in stone." Looking him in the eye, she asked, "But are you sure you can hold this position steady while I -- well, I don't know how to describe it, but let's just say -- take all of it in? I don't want you varying from your pose one iota while I... commit it to stone." Mike swallowed hard and blinked back some sweat, his gaze still locked with hers. But atop the thick pillar of his neck, he gave his handsome head a tiny nod. "Uh-huh... yeah, m'sure I kin hol' this pose," he said haltingly, minimizing all movement. "I kin stay c'mpletely firm fer ya." With great desire in his voice, Mike managed to re-flex the mass of his arms, shoulders and torso into even tighter knots of muscle. The veined tops of his huge biceps peaked out of their roundness, forming sharp angular crowns. He kept his left hand fisted while he opened his right hand, clawing outward aggressively with its thick fingers in an expressive grasp. "Kin y'get it all now? I'm holdin' it... rock solid," he gritted through his teeth without moving his thick grinning lips. He stared intently at the sculptress, her hands still resting upon his awesome physique. "Oh YES," she said, her big baleful eyes still tightly locked with Mike's, "Yes, indeed!" Without further ado, her hands migrated in slow caresses upon his pecs and delts as she chanted a handful of incoherent syllables. He hadn't a clue as to what she was muttering: it was all Greek to Mike. The bodybuilder gave out a deep rapturous sigh, trailing off in a raspy moan. This further exhalation increased the hard crunchy texture of his torso. He thought: man, I must look damn good! He thought this even as a weird sensation flowed throughout his body. But, being a professional bodybuilder, he didn't let it rattle him one bit. He stuck to the business of his side double biceps pose. It was all for art. And for this nice chick, he thought, with them weirdly intense eyes. Even though the cave was warm, Mike couldn't shake off the sudden flush of a numbing coldness. For a few moments, he figured it was just the thick layer of sweat drying out on his limbs and torso: he even felt a vague crustiness on his skin as if salt crystals might be forming. But the feeling became more persistent, spreading to every inch of his body surface. It certainly don't hurt any, he thought. In fact... the sensation was a magnificent turn-on! His cock certainly agreed as he popped a boner so large he felt it would fly off. At first, the strange sensation pervaded only his skin. Then, every part of his body became so incredibly heavy and leaden, and yet dense with power, imbued with the potential of a dozen -- no, a hundred! -- bodybuilders. Why, if he didn't know any better, it felt almost... as if HE himself were a statue! But that was silly -- he was just a model for the sculptress. The strange effect burned with a cold erotic fire, the sensation deeply numbing and terribly stimulating, both at the same time. Like an incoming tide pounding the shore, his mind reeled under both the indirect but powerfully sex-laden feeling that both gripped his massive body everywhere and throbbed under the direct passage of her hands over his hard muscled surface. Ohhh... WOW! -- he thought, grinning in great pleasure -- I wanna stay like this forever! He didn't want the beautiful rapture to ever end, so he tensed his pose even further, trying to keep his handsome body as perfectly still as possible. And he was rewarded: his every rock hard muscle cooperated in the fullest, locked in place, happily frozen in the single pose. The bodybuilder was amazed how he required no effort at all to maintain his immensely solid and freakishly massive body in this one tightly flexed position, without the slightest shaking or quivering. Over the faint ringing in his ears, he could hear -- no... more like... feel -- a strange soft crackling sound. It was as if he were listening very closely to some kind of stone caught under high torsional stress; or like wet cement undergoing a rapid drying... and setting. The erotic all-encompassing sensation rose exponentially to a rousing climax... and stayed there! The model hardly cared about the cold wave of numbness creeping up from his stiffly-held hands and feet into the heavy engorged muscles of his unmoving arms and legs. He found he had no desire at all to move from his fixed position. Movement had become irrelevant; sensation and touch was everything! And all this while, as she continued her chanting and caressing, his eyes remained unblinking, wide-open and locked to Euryale's enchanting gaze. He stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. A smile remained caught on his full yet parted lips, his huge grin tinged with surprise at the overwhelming intensity of the erotic ecstasy enfolding the monolith of his body. And, even as his sight grew dim, the only thoughts remaining to him dwelled on how wonderfully joyful and how remarkably easy -- how terribly easy -- it was to maintain that eye contact with her... One week later... Alone, Vinnie sat on the bench after the last of the day's weight-lifting routine, stripped to his shorts in the warm cavern air. Though he had finished fifteen minutes ago, he remained deep in thought, staring at the dark inner opening. He was pretty pissed off, and a bit worried. No, more than just a little bit worried. He was downright miserable with worry. Though they lived separately, the two bodybuilding partners remained tightly bound to their daily gym routine. Mike had not been at their last four workouts. And, despite Mike's happy-go-lucky attitude, he never, EVER missed workouts with Vinnie in all the years they'd been partners. In fact, Mike hadn't been seen working out at all since their last session. Nor at work, or at his apartment. Vinnie had gone around asking other bodybuilders he knew, but no one had seen Mike at all for several days, either at the cave or at Gold's. Or anywhere. Vinnie had a pretty good idea that his pal had gone off exploring in the caverns. I told the fucker not to do it, thought the athlete to himself. But he realized all too well that Mike was simply that kind of guy who boldly went off to do stupid things without working out all the consequences first. Vinnie was a lot more circumspect and careful. Even now, he debated and questioned the wisdom of following Mike to whatever fate might have claimed him in the nether passage. And claimed the others: besides Mike, two of the native Californian bodybuilders were missing as well for two weeks. Crap, thought Vinnie. Shit on a stick. But even though he was alone now, and despite the ominous dangers, he had to find out what happened to Mike. They'd been with each other for years, working out in gyms together on their way up, making the circuit of bodybuilding contests together. And more. Mike was more than just a partner at the gym. Mike was his really good fuck-buddy. And buddies looked out for each other. With a sigh, the shirtless athlete got up and slowly walked over to the crack-like doorway. After a pause, he plunged in. First a right, then a left, the dark twisting passage made two more turns to a small lit chamber. He eventually found the narrow passage on the left leading to the first wooden barrier, and then the long cool hallway leading to the final turns and the second door. Just like Mike a week before him, Vinnie tried the unlocked door. Suspicious of the unknown, he decided to go in silently. Kicking off his footwear to one side of the door, he cautiously entered the brightly lit workshop barefoot. After first taking in the blocks of stone and mirrors, the bodybuilder then saw the woman standing in the large room-like cavern with her back towards him. She seemed to be using a soft 'shammy' cloth to polish a large white object on a pedestal before her. Vinnie suddenly realized that it was a statue of an incredibly large man. In fact, two other large statues also stood in the room, posed upon low marble slabs. The door made a slight creak as it swung. Without turning around, the woman knew she had company. She said, "Hello. Come right in and make yourself at home." The statues momentarily forgotten, Vinnie shut the door behind him and responded to her in an unsure voice. "Hi there. Umm, I'm Vinnie, from the weight room out front? Who're you and what're you doing down here?" The tall woman hung the cloth from her tool belt and turned around to face Vinnie. She wasn't a classic beauty, but her wide expressive mouth and striking looks were very intriguing, not to mention her bizzaro green hairdo. A kinky LA babe, he thought. "Well, Vincent," she began, "I am Euryale, and..." She stopped talking. Fully taking in the sight of Vinnie, she added with great enthusiasm, "... and -- my, oh, MY! -- I just happen to be looking at the most gorgeously built guy I have ever seen!" Vinnie blushed deeply even though he was already red and flush from his intensive workout. She walked over and stroked a hand with long fingernails over a broad and massive pec, still slick with sweat. "My, my, you look so hot and bothered, love," she said in throaty passion as she guided him into the center of the room. "Come in, relax, and welcome to my studio." To Vinnie, this last word carried with it all the emphasis of 'lair'. Vinnie took in the room and its objects. He stared in wide-eyed fascination at the large sculptures standing on their pedestals -- three male nudes carved from white marble. The bulk of their massive Rodinesque forms stood in contrast to the expression of meticulous lifelike detail upon their physiques. He ran a hand over their cold surfaces, feeling the hard and sinewy texture representing taut and tightly flexed muscle. After a minute or so, he turned back to the woman. Squinting at her with unsure recognition, he asked, "Wait a'minnit... Aren't you that funny comic from cable TV?..." She sighed heavily with exasperation, eyes rolling up. She complained, addressing the ceiling with a frustrated shout, "my dear sister, the bitch goddess of humor... she gets ALL the acclaim while I, the serious, dedicated and accomplished artist, am doomed to total obscurity!" But her attitude took a one-eighty turn as she glanced back to him, tossing off an indifferent expression of 'never-mind' with a half-shrug. "No, Vincent, it's not your fault. Everybody confuses me with 'dearest' Sandra." In a bored voice, looking aside, she added, "I'm always told the resemblance is amazing. Always." "Sure is," said Vinnie. Sensing her dislike of her sister, though, he quickly changed the subject, remarking, "But these statues of yours... they're really very good representations of the male body. Totally excellent work." The semi-erotic nature of the marble sculpture did not escape him. Vinnie had never seen full erections on statuary before, carved in such a large and lifelike manner: genitals were almost an afterthought on most classical and Renaissance pieces. But this anomaly wasn't displeasing. Not one bit, he thought with amusement. "Why thank you, Vincent," she purred. Turning back to the stone figures, she touched them gently and continued, "I express my inner vision and desires through sculpture. The male body is such a marvel of shape and form. The culture of the Aegean discovered this centuries ago." She added in a low inaudible voice as an afterthought, "... as I know so well." "So you're Greek?" Vinnie asked. Greek chicks were supposed to be pretty hot, he mused. He was not totally indifferent to the charms of the other sex. Well, if you were fairly generous in defining 'totally'. "Yes," she responded warmly to him, as if confirming his unspoken musings on her hot passion rather than her ancestry. Hugging herself, she added, "the blood of sculptors from antiquity runs pure in my veins." Caressing the crunched abdominals on one of the statues, Euryale said, "See how the rough angular surface divides the sensual mass and power of the male object from the feminine space surrounding it... defining it... trapping it." Circling the figure, she faced Vinnie again from the shadow of its massive back. "By the way, YOU haven't done too bad for yourself. Just how wide are those shoulders of yours?" "Oh, about 36, 37 inches," he said, glancing to either side as he tensed them playfully and smiled for her. The impressive width of his massive bulked-up deltoids were at least half his total height. "Well, you're quite the studly bodybuilder," she said, walking over to him. "You're a perfect study in sinew and muscle." Euryale went on to explain how the weight equipment was her gift in order to recruit strong and handsome men to be subjects for her sculpting. She described how she would then prepare the figures from marble after just a single session. Pointing to two of the three well-carved figures, she said, "so far, Craig and Dennis have stopped by to model for me." Siding up to the largest of the statues, she added, "And just last week, Michael stopped by to let me capture his likeness." "Mikey was here?" asked the bodybuilder suspiciously. He now examined the third sculpture, standing in a classic side double biceps pose. Vinnie ran his hand appreciatively along the thick heavily textured arms of the statue. His powerful fingers examined the hard tense sinew carved upon its massive stone forearms, as well as the unreal 29-inch circumference of its glistening white biceps, tightly knotted at their peaks. The fat branching vasculature was so abundant that the muscle surface seemed crystalline and facetted, caught between its multitude of veins and tendons. His hands next explored the hard corrugated front of the abdominal muscles: thick marble cubes carefully stacked, mortared together as if to form a solid brick wall. Below, the massive thighs, calves and feet all showed the same attention to texture in their freaky vascularity and muscular detail. Upon examining the hands of the statue, Vinnie found even its thick powerful fingers -- one motionless in a clenched angular grasp, the other fisted tight -- were perfect in every respect. Here he noticed the extraordinary detail on this sinewy right hand carved from marble: the lifelike texture of its epidermis amid the venous ridges on the back of the big hand with its powerful knuckles; the faint but unmistakable pattern of both palm and fingerprints along the front; the smooth matte surface of its broad nails, square and closely manicured at the tips of its wide athletic fingers. The hands looked so alive, as if they might twitch at any given moment. But Vinnie touched the thick rigid digits and felt the cool silky smoothness of solid marble overlain by the textured edges of the stone sinew, tendon and muscle. The head didn't so much sit atop the thick muscled neck -- a column surmounted by the armored collar formed by the trapezius on that hulking alabaster figure of marble. Rather, the face seemed to be carved like a relief sculpture upon the side of the broad pillar, its powerful jaw line jutting outward like an overhanging crag. The expression on the mask-like face of the statue appeared both grim and dreamy. Though its strong features were creased with heavy concentration, a sensual joyous grin was captured on its thick rock hard lips. Joy... but something else, too. Perhaps... surprise? He examined its eyes for a further clue, but they were fixed wide open, opaque and sightless, gazing blankly at Vinnie. He rubbed a thumb along the underside of the statue's stiff smile, feeling the strong masculine shape of its perfectly detailed lower lip. His fingers moved gently along the hard angular edge of the well-formed manly jaw. There Vinnie felt the faint sandpapery scrape of unshaven stubble coating the chin and thick corded throat, rendered as a finely-crafted texture in the stone. Vinnie wasn't fooled -- not even for a second. After years of shared workouts, both in the gym and elsewhere, he was extremely familiar with the muscular and sinewy details of the body of his daily partner. Despite its pale white complexion and colorless hair, he recognized that handsome sculpted face without hesitation. And besides all the visual clues, there was the one detail that a sculpture couldn't possibly simulate. As Vinnie held his face close to the carved marble surface of the statue, his nose caught -- so faint and almost undetectable under the raw smell of carved rock -- an unmistakable masculine scent that had but one source, even though dried for days: the pungent odor of his workout buddy's sweat. "Mikey?..." he whispered to its silent marbled face in desperate confusion. This object wasn't just a stone statue of Mikey, he realized: it really was Mike! He turned to glance at the other two figures. Yes, he thought: that one was Dennis, and this other one just had to be Craig. All three of them were chiseled from solid marble in perfect detail. And all of them were missing for many days. Unlike his partner, Vinnie wasn't an idiot. He easily put two and two together. He whirled on the marble platform to face the sculptress. He clenched his big fists into hard massive knots and contorted his face in anger. He flung an arm out, pointing his forefinger at the woman, and declared, "YOU did this to Mikey! And Dennis and Craig as well!" He hopped over to the Craig-like statue, running his hands along its exposed and highly muscled torso. Looking upon the stony surface, he surmised, "you've trapped them... inside marble sculptures of themselves. And they can't get out!" Hugging the white figure firmly in his arms, his fingers sought a firm and sturdy grasp on the smooth hard surface textured so much like muscle. He looked over his shoulder to face Euryale with determination. "But I'm going to free them." Without further ado, he flexed his muscles and gave a Herculean shove to the statue of Craig. Vinnie intended the release his fellow bodybuilder from the rocky prison encasing him as it toppled to the floor. Topple it did, but not with the results that he expected. With its feet fused to the pedestal, the marble figure cracked off right at the ankles with a loud snap. The massive weight of the stone body pivoted back onto the edge of the pedestal, its upper body falling to strike the granite floor of the cavern. With a tremendous crash, the statue broke in two at the narrow waist while several substantial chunks of the figure shattered off from its limbs: a hand flew over here; a knee over there. With a shudder, Vinnie looked in horror upon the cross-sectional break of the torso. The interior of the sculpted physique was completely white marble, solid throughout! This was no man encased in a layer of rock, he now realized. Instead, Craig's firm muscular flesh had been petrified into cold inanimate stone, even as he had posed upon the pedestal, becoming one with the marble. And if the bodybuilder hadn't been killed outright by the transformation, then Vinnie's rash impulse had probably put Craig beyond any hope of restoration. In confusion, Vinnie turned slowly towards the woman while glancing back forlornly at the broken statue, its placid face unchanged despite its dreadful ordeal. He mumbled dazedly "it... it's not my fault! I didn't know..." with great remorse. Euryale stared without emotion at the damaged statue lying beyond Vinnie. In fact, her disinterest was downright eerie. With her hands clasped beneath her chin and elbows akimbo, the sculptress huffed an exaggerated sigh. She said philosophically to no one in particular, "Oh well. Here I create a brilliant masterpiece, a sculpture so fine and handsome... and some bonehead barbarian comes along to ruin it. It's the story of my long, long life." She glanced up at the bodybuilder, still without any anger. "You know, my dear Vincent, I've wandered all the wide world for so many years and yet I never tire of capturing new forms, creating new masterworks. Something like this might even upset me, if my talent didn't come so easy to me." She took a step towards Vinnie. "But fate always provides me with fresh inspiration. So I never become too attached to any one piece." And another step, with a shrug and a shake of her head. "Before long, there's always a new subject available to prepare for my latest work." All the while, her eyes expertly regarded his strong and perfectly proportioned body. Vinnie tensed his muscles, coiling with both horror and rage at her indifferent and cavalier attitude. "YOU! You're... you're evil!" he shouted with disgust from where he stood, stabbing a finger again in her direction. This time it wasn't a forefinger. "Evil?!?" the sculptress echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Vincent, my pet, don't be so ridiculous," she continued with slight indignation in her voice. "Or insulting for that matter, you arrogant little prick, you. I am an Artist," she asserted, the 'A' clearly capitalized in her speech, "and my Art is free of your or anyone's standard of morality. Art is to challenge the senses and to create new experience. Anything less than that is not Art. Besides," she added sternly yet with a sly grin, "I gave each of these men precisely and exactly what he wanted. How can my fulfillment of their strongest desires be wrong?" "How? How could you take advantage these fine guys? Don't you care about what you've done to them? They must've trusted you, you cold-hearted bitch, and you... you tricked them! You fucked them over!" He sputtered with intense anger. "You an' your fuckin' art studio and... an' your fuckin' sister in Hollywood. You can both go to ..." At that moment, Vinnie suddenly remembered something. Two sisters? Of Greek descent? Too late, Vinnie recalled a story, a heroic myth he'd read for years ago in a college classics course. Of a daring hero against two immortal sisters... Euryale and Sandra? No, not Sandra. Something with an 'S', yes, but more stronger sounding, more ethnic than that... Stheno, that was it! Euryale, Stheno... and their third and mortal sister. Uh-oh, he thought. Serious mother-fuckin' uh-oh! With growing shock, Vinnie fully comprehended the nature of the deadly danger standing right before him. He was in deep shit, no doubt about it. He was now sure of Euryale's identity, even though this striking -- even handsome -- woman was not the fearsome and ugly creature oft recalled out of myth and legend. Calmly, Vinnie slowly raised his arms towards her. "Uh, n-n-now l-let's not get... too excited here," he began nervously, gesturing diplomatically with his big hands. "Maybe I was kinda hasty mouthin' off just now, O. K.?" So far, so good. Perhaps he could talk his way out of this, he hoped. Despite how he might feel about them, the babes always had a warm spot for his masculine good looks.