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Hanazin Warrior Academy, The
|When Sean returned home he had spent all but $10 dollars of his money. He was careful not to let himself get carried away again. He had stopped off at DICK’S Sporting Store to buy a good collection of Speedos, Gym Shorts, Muscle Tees, and Tank-Tops. He had to resist trying out the equipment to keep himself from getting excited again.
It was 4:30 PM when he came through the front door with his several shopping bags. His dad waited for him near the television, the news playing footage from the mall.
“Centralized Tremor near the Gardens Mall,” his father repeated. He stood up and turned around to face his son. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
“Not a thing,” Sean said.
Max chuckled and shook his head. He began going through Sean’s bags, looking at all the things he had bought. “You have some nice stuff here.”
Sean immediately reached into one of the A&F bags and pulled out a pair of shorts. “These are for you,” he said. “I kinda busted your other ones.”
“Yah,” Sean said. “Busted…”
“Not in public?”
Sean shook his head. “Thankfully, no.”
“You have grown a bit since this morning,” Max said, “—well, more than a bit—Jesus Christ you’re gettin big!” Sean had thrown off the 69 Shirt he had been wearing and stood before Max, his new, bigger, leaner muscles on display. “You’re going to be one of the bigger first years.”
“So, this school,” said Sean, “is it all boys?”
“100%,” Max said, still looking through Sean’s bags. “Looks like you spent all the money on clothes. Did you eat?”
Sean smacked his forehead. “I forgot.”
“Come on, Sean,” Max said. “That’s the best part. Eat whatever you want, whenever you want.”
Sean picked up the bags, Max helping him with the ones he couldn’t carry.
“I just haven’t been very hungry,” Sean said, the two of them making their way up the stairs.
When Sean pushed his bedroom door open, he saw that there was a gift laying on his desk.
“I got you something,” Max said.
Sean put the bags down and walked over to his bed. “What is it?”
Sean tore the gold paper off the box and removed the lid. Inside were four large metal rings—bracelets from what it appeared.
“Those were mine when I was in school,” Max said. “I thought I’d let you have them. The new ones they have aren’t as fine-tuned as these. These are much better. They’ll get you better results.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Sean said.
The remaining weeks before Sean started at the Academy passed rather uneventful. Sean actually took it easy, enjoying his new body. He had played Basketball with a group of college guys and schooled them all, dunking and effortlessly making three pointers, even though he’d never played before. He had jumped off high dives at the public pool in showy displays of flips and twists, and even had started surfing. He actually thought he might miss it all, though he was very excited to be starting school.
Sean’s father had led him to an empty field at the edge of a marshy woods area. They were waiting for another student, the student’s father having called Max and asked if he could help his son find his way to school.
Sean had chosen to wear a sleeveless magenta shirt and brown cargo shorts. He wore the “not socks” with his most expensive trainers. He especially made sure to work on his calve muscles, using the bumper of his dad’s Mercedes in the garage as weight. The results had paid double, as that’s how much bigger his calves had gotten. The two muscles of his calves had become discrete like twin finely cut diamonds covered in fine steel wires. His legs resembled his dad’s from the front view, the same thick vein running down from the front of his right calf and to his ankle. Their appearance gave Sean the feeling that he could kick out a car’s transmission. He actually thought of trying it out, but never got around to it.
After a good five minutes, a young man with a large backpack approached. His brown hair was buzzed short, his skin substantially lighter, not the tanned golden color of Sean’s. Sean ran his eyes over his body as he approached, the boy’s chest stretching the fabric of his red polo shirt, his vascular arms exposed like his well-muscled legs. Like his father had said, the boy wasn’t as big as Sean was, but still breathtaking nonetheless.
The young man stopped in front of them, smiled, and stuck out his hand. “Jason,” he said.
Sean took his hand and shook it. “Sean. Nice to meet you.”
“Dude, I have to say,” Jason said. “You’re freakin’ huge!”
“Not so bad yourself,” said Sean with a smile. He noticed Jason’s deep blue eyes, his handsome face perfectly formed like the young Czech Models he had recently seen on the internet.
“You sure you’re a first year?” Jason asked.
“What house did they put you in?” asked Jason.
“Ferunah,” Sean said. “You?”
“What d’you mean?”
“My dad’s the Head of House,” Jason said.
“You boys ready?” Max asked, interrupting the conversation. The two young men nodded. “Hold out the hand with your ring on it.” The two boys obeyed and Max followed suit. “This is Maximus Archer, with son Sean Archer and son of Professor Jacobson, Jason Jacobson. We request passage.”
Their three rings glowed and a small black hole appeared in front of them. For a moment it did nothing, but then it shot out both vertical and horizontal, big enough for the three of them.
“Let’s go,” Max said.
“Into that?” Sean asked.
Max stepped in and was engulfed into the blackness.
“You first,” Jason said.
Sean stepped in. He felt as if a cold fluid enclosed around him and the next moment he was funneled through some type of warp. There was no wind, no noise, nothing but purple and black. And then it stopped.
Sean found himself in an open field similar to the one they had just left, Jason standing next to him.
“Will you look at that,” Jason said. Sean turned to see what he was staring at. Before them was the gate entrance to a grand manor like mansion. A good number of smaller manor homes surrounded the main. But it wasn’t the buildings the two of them were gawking at.
Young, unbelievably muscled teens ran along the inner grounds. Some were indeed naked, like Sean’s father had said, their cocks profusely larger than any Sean had ever seen, though still in good proportion to their bodies, while others wore only the pants of their Karate Gis, exposing their ripped muscled torsos glistening in the bright sun. Their pants were colored ranging from Green, Blue, Red, Grey, and Orange. The professors—or who Sean assumed to be professors—wore their entire uniforms, all black, and Sean spotted some with muscles twice as large as Professor Pierce’s. One of them had a shaved head, dark brown skin, and a body that looked like he had been turned inside out, as there were so many thick, bulging veins perusing along his body.
“This is it,” Max said. “I leave you guys here.”
“You’re not coming inside?” Sean asked.
“Nope,” said Max. “Give me hug.”
Sean wrapped his arms around his father, having trouble getting passed his lats, when he was picked up off his feet into a big bear hug.
“Arrgh, Dad, you’re crushing me!” Sean said.
His father released him. “I’m not going to see you ‘til Christmas.” He ruffled his son’s hair. “Take care of yourself.” He went over to Jason and shook his hand. “You too.”
“Thanks, Mr. Archer,” Jason said.
Sean and Jason entered through the gate and onto the school grounds.
Sean was indeed the biggest first year in more ways than one. He had seen what everybody was packing when they were instructed to strip naked in the courtyard and change into their Uniforms. Everyone's cocks had hardened at seeing each other's naked bodies. Most were only 10 inchers at most, maybe 12, but certainly not Sean's 15. Nobody laughed at them, and strangely, not one of the first years were embarrassed to do so. It was probably the reason all of them were asked to strip in front of their guides at the very beginning. Sean had indeed gotten used to being naked, and was actually beginning to prefer it. His Gi was feeling a bit tight, and he couldn’t wait to rip it off his body, his lats struggling to settle within.
There were a hundred first years altogether, 20 for each house—twenty Tyserrens in Orange, twenty Dragahnas in Green, twenty Behlmores in Red, twenty Ferunahs in Grey, and twenty Eumorahs in Blue, all talking about different things: blowing out their parents walls, blasting out T.V. tubes, Jason told Sean his story about how he ruined all the pipes in the house just by thinking about it, while Sean kept all his stories to himself, though confiding in Jason the initial events of his birthday.
Near the back, a group of boys were flexing their muscles, rubbing and touching each other’s bodies in admiration, tracing their fingers across the veins in their arms. Sean had to look away for the time being. He didn’t want to rip out of his only pair of uniform pants. Two Behlmores were already makin’ out, their tongues lost in each other’s faces.
But most shocking of all, where Jason’s eyes were glued, two hugely muscular students were in the middle of the courtyard, the bigger one ramming his dripping cock into the smaller one’s ass, bellowing at the top of his lungs, all his muscles growing as he shot his cum into his partner. Nobody who passed seemed to care, one boy even slapping the big one on the ass and rooting him on, saying, "Yah, Rob, that's the way to do it, Fuck 'em good!" There were three students levitating above the courtyard passing out flyers, gliding to and fro when need be, and a bunch were lying on the grass arm wresting, matches often ending with a blast of earth when losers hands were slammed into the ground. A small group near the far back wall across from them were punching and kicking in a dance type formation, perfectly in sync with each other, their hands and feet moving between motions in unbelievably fast blurs.
A man in a black Karate Gi approached the group. His right pant leg had a Tiger design embroidered into it. The group immediately became silent. It wasn’t the man’s size that did it, certainly not, as the man didn’t have muscles like the other professors. In fact, he was quite younger in the face, his hair short and parted down the middle, and his body resembled more of a male model or swimming champion rather than a world class body builder. Still he radiated power, a power only visible in the ripped vascular muscles of his arms.
“Welcome, First Years,” he said in a surprisingly low voice. “I’m Professor Richardson, Head of Tyserren House. I’m here to guide you through the orientation process. Now I expect you all to be on your best behavior. It’s not easy to show a hundred new students around the school. Those of you who find it in yourselves to misbehave will discover that punishments here at the Hanazin Academy are EXTREMELY unpleasant.” He raised his right palm and the ground in front of him gathered together to form a large stone pillar. Prof. Richardson raised his finger to make sure everyone was paying attention. He made a fist, and rammed it through the pillar so fast that the hole he made stayed for a good five seconds before the rest of the pillar turned to dust.
If the first years were quiet before, they were DEAD quiet now.
Professor Richardson smiled. “Shall we continue?”
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