The Cell Mate
by Londonboy
At the time, I knew what I was doing could land me in jail, but everyone in the brokerage business was doing it. I was sure I wouldn’t get caught, but my luck didn’t work out that way. Now I found myself entering a high end white-collar prison in upper New York. I had no idea how much my life was about to change.
“Put him in the cell with Tiny – this pretty boy doesn’t stand a chance with anyone else,” the elderly guard at the check-in point said to two other guys as I stood there waiting. “He must know some prick in high places. It says here the fucker gets to keep all his stuff – even his own clothes. I’m feeling generous today, man, so I’m going to let it happen.”
The guy tossed me a box containing my stuff and the other two guys began leading me through a maze of hallways and sliding iron gates until we reached cell number 423. One guy opened the barred door and the other pushed me in. It was late at night, so most of the large open space was dark. The cell actually was a lot larger than I anticipated. I could barely make out a figure lying on a bed against the back wall. Besides that piece of furniture, there were a couple of desks, a commode with a curtain to pull around it, a sink, and my bed, which was up front near the door. I placed my things on the desk nearest me.
“What’s up,” I said, trying to appear calm and cocky. I had been warned about the need to act in control from the get-go.
“Hmmph,” was the only sound that was returned.
It almost sounded like a low growl. The hairs on the back of neck sprang to life. There was something in the deep guttural voice that made me worry my cellmate was sick – like he had a bad cold or worse. I couldn’t make the guy out in the dimmed light, so I just returned to unpacking my stuff. I then heard the bed make a noise like it was screaming for mercy as Tiny moved to sit up. I forced myself not look over – mainly because I wanted to make it clear that I’m wasn’t there to make friends. As I unfolded some clothes a new noise came from the back – one that forced me to look. It was like heavy breathing, but it was steady and had a magnetic rhythm to it.
I turned and stepped a little further into the cell, in order to move out of the glare from the hallway and get a better look at Tiny. What I saw caused me to fall back against my desk. I had to grab the chair to prevent myself from sinking to the floor. There, on the bed, cranking out alternate curls with the heaviest fucking looking dumbbells I’d ever seen, was something that looked like a cross between a rhino and a real-life Paul Bunyan. The first thing I noticed was size – monstrous size. Every thing about Tiny was the complete opposite of the name. The dude must have been fucking six-seven or more. I could even tell while he on the bed because his head was higher than mine and the guy was sitting down. I first thought the orange prison outfit he was wearing must have been old because it had holes everywhere and looked worn out, but then I noticed that it was actually ripped at the seams in many places because what was probably the largest size they made couldn’t contain the monstrous body. There were rips at the shoulders, across the biceps, and big tears running up and down the upper legs. The front part of the uniform was unzipped down to the guy’s stomach just because he couldn’t have made the two sides meet even if he had an army of guys tugging – the massive chest beneath was too huge.
These gaps in the material caused the second mind-blowing realization in the midst of my astonished first look at Tiny. The man was covered in heavy manly fur – just like the mythical lumberjack figure of olden stories. Dark hair cascaded over the two giant pecs busting through the upper part of his outfit. His sleeves had obviously been shredded by thick forearms and then rolled up to his elbows – revealing a forest of heavy fur there, too. But what really drew my eye was the substantial head of dark hair and the closely cropped dense beard and mustache. I instantly thought of old commercials for Brawny paper towels and the giant flannel shirt-wearing monster that promoted them. This guy could have easily been the live version of that animation.
Tiny – how could this man have that nickname - didn’t look at me. He concentrated on the movement of the immense looking weight in each hand, as he brought them up one at a time. The motion made both biceps swell up through the holes in the sleeves like a pair of giant whales alternately breaking through the ocean surface. He was grunting loudly and it was obvious the weight on one dumbbell was more than my entire body could ever possibly lift. The sight made me become an ignorant fool immediately. I had no control over any part of my body or mind.
“Fuck, you’re huge!” blurted out of my mouth without any forethought.
The weights stopped in mid-motion and the man lifted his head to look at me. Eyes so piercingly blue that it was like looking at a double full moon on the darkest night of the year. He said nothing and his stare made me almost piss on myself. I suddenly turned into some kind of frightened puppy that knows he has done something wrong – cowering in front of his owner. Paul Bunyan had suddenly turned into a terrifying colossal beast and I wished I could disappear. The man finally lowered his gaze and began cranking out reps again – what number was he on by now, a hundred? Or was it more? The cell was filled with a mixture of his deep exhaling gusts of wind and grunts of exertion. There was also an overpowering manly musk that made my body weak every time I inhaled. The sound was so primeval I was sure that if we had been in the jungle gorillas would have flocked to us by the hundreds just to be fucked by this behemoth. I was shocked by something that filled my psyche so immediately - a sudden need to be dominated by this man. What was up with me? I was a powerful businessman that had never thought of another guy in this way. I usually told other people what to do, but here I was filled with this deep hope that my cellmate would use me like a toy. I shook my head in hopes of clearing these unwanted new thoughts from my head. That’s when the foundation of the building shook – I looked over and saw that Tiny had dropped his weights to the floor. He was sitting there rolling his clamped fists in circles, which made his forearms and biceps explode like mountains of granite-like muscle. My vision blurred as my mind tried to comprehend his size and power.
Then the man stood up and my legs gave out. I knew Tiny was a giant, but nothing could have prepared me for the way his huge frame filled the entire large space. It was like those small toys you got when you were a kid – those capsules you’d drop in water and they’d balloon out to large sponge animals or something. His upper body expanded beyond anything I had ever seen before. His shoulders would have almost filled a double doorframe and his pecs seemed to poke out so far I could have stood under them in a thunderstorm, not ever feeling a drop of rain. And seeing his super pumped-up arms made me want to lay on the floor in a fetal position and suck my thumb. Nothing in my entire life had ever made me feel so weak. I knew instantly that all my preconceptions of strength were now obsolete. Only now did my eyes feast on something that was true power. My subconscious clearly understood this and that’s why I had turned into such a shivering meek wimp, for compared to Tiny that’s exactly what I was.
The huge man just stood there tensing different parts of his body. My eyes would dart to whatever muscle he chose to tighten and my stomach would do somersaults as I gazed on how everything bulged to insane proportions. I could not fathom how a human could grow so enormous. My ogling his body ended when I suddenly became aware that the man was staring at me. I hadn’t even looked up at his face, but my entire being knew that the giant was boring a hole through me. I glanced up at his beautiful, but hard, face. He didn’t speak at first and this caused me to get even more frightened than I already was – fearful that I might do something to cause him to easily rip my body apart. My lip actually started trembling and for a second – but only a second – I thought I saw pity in his eyes. When he spoke his deep voice reverberated off the cellblock’s walls and it felt like a helicopter was landing inside my chest.
"Come here boy," he said calmly, but I could hear such authority in his voice that I knew my life depended on my response.
I looked around – as if he might be talking to someone else. I so didn’t want to do anything wrong, but in my present state of complete fear I also found it hard to make my body move. I waited too long.
"Don’t make me ask twice, boy," he said again in a louder voice.
The increased sound level and the fact that he had really made the order a second time caused my body to react without even getting signals from my brain. My legs jerked forward quickly and I basically ran to him, not gauging how fast I was moving or how far his chest stuck out from the rest of his body. My head bumped into his pecs hard and it was like hitting the side of a mountain. I bounced off and fell backwards to the ground. My hand instinctively moved to my forehead to rub away the pain caused by his marbled muscle skin. For a second I got confused and wondered if I had actually smacked into the concrete wall instead, but then I looked up and saw Tiny bend forward so he was able to see me over his massive chest. It was the first time I had seen him smile, something that actually made me again shiver in fear - instead of feeling better.
"Damn boy, you are weak, get your ass up now," he ordered as he straightened back up.
I quickly stood, but I couldn’t look at the man. I kept my gaze downward because I was ashamed. I then got my first up-close look at his giant quads – wide and bulging through the stretched-to-the-max tears in the upper legs of his uniform. It looked as if any movement at all would make the rest of the material shred to pieces and fall from his tree-trunk legs. My shock and admiration for his legs did not go unnoticed by the colossal beast.
"Mmm, good boy,” he said firmly. “That’s the first correct thing you’ve done since you got here. It’s right that you should admire my monster quads. You like ‘em, don’t you, little man. Yeah, those things could squeeze the life out of you – without much effort at all. But don’t think I want to destroy you pretty boy. Well, at least not yet."
With that, the big man turned his body a little to the right and he looked up. I followed his gaze. There was a thick metal bar running across the cell. It looked like it had been slammed into the walls on either side, mainly because chunks of the plaster and concrete were missing. It was way too high for me to reach, but I knew a simple jump from Tiny could take his hands to the strong looking piece of metal – and that’s exactly what he intended to do. He pushed off the ground lightly and latched on to the bar with his huge hands.
"Now boy, grab onto my waist, I need more weight as I do my pull-ups. Your scrawny body isn’t going to add a lot, but it will help," he said, without even looking at me.
"Uh . . . what? How do I do that . . . sir?" I asked without thinking. I immediately knew the question was a mistake.
"Put your arms about my waist and place your legs around my lower body,” he said gruffly. “Damn, boy, are you deaf, dumb or stupid? Or maybe all three."
"No sir," I replied quickly.
I immediately wrapped my arms around his rock hard stomach and tried to lock my hands across his back, but the guy was just too wide and thick. I squeezed tightly, pressing my face into his chiseled abs. I lifted my feet and latched them on to his hard calves. My entire body quivered from touching so much muscle and my cock became harder than concrete.
Instantly, both of our bodies traveled up into the air and then back down as Tiny began to crank out reps. I glanced up and freaked out, watching dumbfounded as he let go of the bar with his right hand first, doing chin-ups with just that arm, and then he did the same with his left. After about 50 solo repetitions with each arm, I could sense that he settled in to do a long set with both arms.
He began to pull us up very slowly – getting the best pump possible and making sure his shoulders, back, and lats were doing all the work. The motion was making his muscle wings burst out insanely during each slow raise. A light sheen of sweat was spreading across his body – nothing compared to the buckets of sweat pouring down my body, caused by trying desperately not to spew cum into my underwear. My arms kept sliding down his hard-as-marble body and I’d have to squeeze harder and squirm back up his long torso. This caused my face to go bouncing in and out against the thick-as-shit abdominals across his roided gut, which actually caused a lot of pain. It also made my throbbing cock brush against his more than solid quads, sending me closer and closer to ejaculation. There was no way, however, I was going to complain. After what seemed like 75 to 100 reps, the big man stopped in mid lift – I swear his arms were holding all our combined weight like it was nothing – and looked down at me. My heart stopped from fear I had done something wrong.
“We’ll take care of that little boner in a while, boy,” he growled.
His voice was so intensely masculine and direct that just this short sentence caused my cock to deflate like a pin-poked balloon. I couldn’t explain the reaction, but I had never felt so puny and insignificant. I actually began to shake from fearful thoughts of how he would “take care” of my hard-on. I felt Tiny’s chest and gut shaking a little and I realized the man was chuckling at me – even though it felt like a hungry bear’s stomach rumbling. That’s when I realized he sensed my fear completely. I also could see he loved the response his presence caused. At the same time I could tell there was something else percolating in the behemoth’s brain. It was something I couldn’t name, but it was like he had a unheard of understanding of how I’d suddenly and unexplainably become such a muscle whore. It was like he knew he could control me just by flexing his super-enlarged body.
I unconsciously started whispering numbers as he cranked out more reps. I went deeper into some kind of muscle trance as I continued to brush my face up and down his hard sweaty abs. I didn’t even realize I was moaning like an animal in heat by the time he was done with 200 repetitions. A huge circular pre-cum stain had appeared at my crotch, making it look like I had already shot a big load. Tiny and I both knew instinctively, though, that I wouldn’t erupt until he gave the order.
He finally started to slow down the movement of our bodies and actually held the last lift for a long time – as if he were trying to squeeze a few more fibers of muscle into his already massively-packed biceps. He lowered his body and his feet touched the ground. I continued to hang onto the large sweat-drenched man as if my life depended on it.
“You can let go now, boy,” he said, chuckling again.
While I forced my unwilling body to pry itself from his hard muscles, Tiny raised his arms to stretch out the pump. The movements actually made his body become harder and I was literally shoved off – falling to the ground again. At the same time the giant above me flexed into a double biceps pose and instantly I heard the sound of material ripping. I scooted back on the floor, getting my line of vision beyond his protruding chest. I mouthed the word fuck when I saw what had happened. The upward motion of Tiny’s arms and the insane peaks of his guns caused his prison uniform to tear completely in two. The orange jumpsuit was now a strained shirt barely covering his upper body and what looked like a pair of skin-tight shorts because of the way his quads bulged. Tiny continued to stretch and flex parts of his body. He flared out his lats and I immediately heard a second loud ripping noise. We both knew, without even looking that the upper part of the uniform had shredded down the middle of his giant back. And as if the material was confirming what we both knew it slid off his giant shoulders as soon as he dropped his arms. He caught the two pieces of material in his big paws, wadded them together and tossed them to me. They were soaking with sweat and smelled like an army of men had shared wearing them for weeks.
The sight of his upper body was so unbelievable all I could do was whimper loudly like a hurt little animal. His enormous chest completely boggled my mind and I simply stared with my mouth hanging open as he bounced his mega pecs. I began to shake my head in disbelief and this caused the behemoth to laugh hard and loud. He pointed to my crotch.
“That better just be pre-cum, boy,” he said in a somewhat terrifying tone “I’m still counting on you to churn out enough spunk to fill my big hungry rock-hard belly.”
I could tell he was fully aware that I was saving my load for when he gave the order, but he wanted to make sure I knew he was in control – as if there were any doubt. He wasn’t shocked at all that his big muscled body could make me leak more pre-cum than I’d shoot in a month even if I jerked off each day. His confidence and self-awareness was so intense that it felt like some kind of invisible force that surrounded him. His mere presence made me want to find ways to make him happy or win his pleasure. I was a muscle-whipped puny man who only desired this powerful monster standing in front of me.