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God Revealed, A
|I dial the phone number and wait while it rings, my stomach jittery.
“You have come to me, Neil”
My heart feels like it skips a beat…
“You know that when you meet me tonight it will change your life, Neil”
Oh God, what have I gotten myself into?!
But, despite my fear, I reply with unmitigated fervor: “Yes Father!”
“Where are you now, Neil?”
“At my friend’s house, Father…”
And we discuss the details of how I will meet Him tonight: the time, His address, what to do and what to expect when I get there. I have brought Him a gift, as He has instructed me to do, an offering to symbolically show how I will share myself with Him and submit to Him. I have brought Him a small tortoise shell box, given to me by my father years ago. Then, after we have discussed the arrangements, His deep voice shifts into command mode:
“Are you ready Neil???” He roars. “Are you ready to give yourself to me, for me to feed, to grow, to increase my Power?! Fall to your knees before me now, Neil!” But I have already done so, so shaken am I by His sudden change in tone.
“You will be mine tonight, Neil -- I do whatever I please with you! You will know my Power as they will ALL know my Power! But you have served me well and your reward shall be great! I will take what I need from you and, in serving me, sacrificing yourself to me, your own strength will grow! But first I will take what I need!!! Are you prepared for that? Will you give me everything you have and everything you are?? Are you ready, Neil? Are you ready to come into the Father!?!”
“Yes, Lord!” He has instructed me not to use that word, but it escapes my lips, I am so shaken and awed. It is as though I am already in the room with Him and it is almost too much to bare.
“You will come to Me, tonight, Neil, and you will finally be mine!!!”
And so our phone call ends. I have fallen face down on the mattress on my friends apartment floor. My cock is screamingly hard and stabbing at the mattress below me as though a sexual energy not mine is driving it to explode. I have fallen face down on in surrender, desperate, despite my fear, to do just as He says, whatever He says. From where does this hold over me come? It is as though He reaches into some deepest core of me that needs to surrender, has always needed to surrender, to become what I truly am made to be…
But what is that? I don’t know! And now the fear returns: I don’t know this man who claims to be a God, but I know that He is at least physically profoundly more strong than I… am I crazy to meet with Him? All day I worry about the terrible, terrible mistake I might be making: this talk of sacrifice, of surrender, of feeding. What does He intend for me? Will I be able to escape if I have to? Once, I didn’t listen to my inner vibe about someone and I regretted it long after. Now my vibe says: beware! But I struggle to have the nerve to say no.
The day passes, I spend part of it with another friend in LA, a competitive bodybuilder, and he takes me to Golds Gym in Venice to work out. I tell him about what is happening -- he and I have no secrets or shame about such stuff as this, because we became friends through our desires to play out either side of this Muscle God fantasy. And he also advises me not to go, to trust my instinct -- if I am afraid I should heed that emotion.
At the gym I am awed by some of the professional bodybuilders I see, some of whom are men I have admired for years: admired putting it mildly… And, going through my workout, being encouraged by my huge and hard and good friend, I decide that I will listen to my inner voice. I resolve to call Father and explain that I am not yet ready for this one on one encounter. I said this to Him months before when it might have been that He was coming to my own city. I had said that I would prefer to just meet Him, to sit with Him on a park bench, or take Him to dinner, but not yet to be alone and surrender into His strong physical grasp. At that time He had allowed me my fear and I thought to appeal to that now, gracefully de-escalating the intensity of the encounter…
I called Him again and He answered the phone, this time His voice soothing in its depth. “No, Neil, it is too late for that -- you will come to my home and worship me tonight.” “But, Father, I think i’m not ready for this…. Please, let me first approach you in a more neutral way -- I fear im not strong enough…” He asks me what I fear and I tell Him of my anxiety, of that other time when I did not listen to my instincts and was physically and emotionally abused by a stranger who busted through all limits once I was defenseless in His home, a small man alone with a very large and powerful man.
“I have told you, Neil, that I will not hurt you, that you are precious to me. It is too late not to come before me -- you must come prepared to sacrifice yourself to me, but you will not be harmed.”
What am I to do?? He has promised to not harm me, but can I trust Him? I’m so torn, pulled between desire and awe on the one hand and fear on the other. I pass the late afternoon and the early evening distracting myself with social interaction, trying my best to ignore the perhaps fateful dilemma and pretend that things are normal.
But my cock never goes down.
Now, it is twenty minutes to eleven. I walk slowly down the L.A. sidewalk, past ludicrously lush gardens in this water starved region, my alternating footsteps clear and sharp on the cement in the cool night: yes, no, yes, no, stop, go, stop, go…
The struggle continues, block after block. Father, it turns out lives only a short distance from the home of the friend with whom im staying. I’m reassured by the proximity, though part of my rational brain tells me that such reassurance is foolish in the face of someone who might want to do me harm. His words: feed, sacrifice, surrender haunt me as they compel me. And I turn right on to His street and begin to scan the homes for the one He has described to me.
I see it from across the street, a house that contains two homes, one on the first floor, one on the second. Upstairs, where He waits for me, the blinds are closed, but a flickering light glows. Taking a breath, I step onto the road, cross, and ascend the wooden stairs that lead to His door. I listen, but hear little beyond the creak of the stairs beneath my feet. I open the screen door and knock on the inner door as I have been instructed to do and announce, also as instructed: I am here. A dog barks in response to my knock, from an inside room to my left which somehow makes me smile: Father has a pet! But then a voice, His Voice, brings me back to the moment.
And I open the door. The view into the room, before me, to the right, is partly mundane, and in larger part, spectacularly surreal. Pale, off white, wall to wall carpeting, a dining table with some papers on it, and little furniture, spare and clean and somewhat L.A. suburban. But along the carpeted floor are parallel rows of candles in glasses that define a path to the Father, sitting in a jockstrap in a throne-like chair, His powerful, thick, veined arms stretched outward in a gesture of welcome. “Come to me, Neil” He quietly commands, His voice rich with strength and with affection.
I fall to my knees and crawl towards this figure who has so inflamed my imagination and my physical being for so many months. My fears drop away as I feel that this is some sort of completion that is appropriate and just. I crawl to Him and gaze for the first time in person on the body that I have worshipped with my eyes and my cock and my voice for many months, and see the face of my Father for the first time. Indeed, He looks fatherly, His face is broadly handsome, with slightly rough, thick features and a piercing gaze that alone would capture my eye even if the body were concealed by clothes. It feels right to crawl toward His outstretched arms and benevolent gaze.
And those arms! Massive forearms, deeply corded, thickly wrapped with veins, and cloaked in soft brown fur -- so massive are they that the huge biceps, that ultimate symbol of Muscular Power, look slightly less huge, simply because the forearms match them so evenly in broadness. It is as though His arms are one steadily thickening column of muscle, broadening out from His wrists, wider and wider, thicker and thicker, to full, bulging, round deltoids that crown each shoulder.
His torso is as thick in its being as are His arms. There is a hint of the incredible span of His lats which I will witness later in the position in which He holds His arms now. But mostly, His back muscles are in repose, coiled to give astonishing depth to His torso, His pecs projecting forward as His back keeps Him forward in the chair. And His legs: they appear to be carved of stone and covered by a mans golden skin and hair. Again, as on the arms, the veins course under the skin, feeding the muscles that clearly do whatever work He expects from them.
It occurs to me as I crawl ever closer that I will be like those muscles doing His will, following His command, even perhaps past what I normally conceive to be my limitations. I imagine how He forces His body through thundering workouts to build such strength and think how He will take me on a similar journey -- perhaps painful, but ultimately to further growth.
I take the little gift I have brought for Him out of my pocket and lay it quietly on the floor between His feet. I look up into His eyes, their tenderness still flowing toward me. Come home, Neil. Come to the Father.
And I rise up on my knees and bring my face to His chest as His arms enclose about me in a fatherly, gentle embrace. I breathe His sweet, manly scent, and feel my breathing fall into rhythm with His, the muscles of His chest rising and falling, His heart beating within -- deep and slow, compared to my own flurry of activity -- lulling me slowly, gradually into a profound calm.
‘Look into my eyes, Neil,” He whispers into my ear, His breath on my skin warm. He releases me and I tilt my head upward and look into His gray, glowing eyes.
“What do you see, Neil?”
“I see Power, Father.”
“What else do you see, Neil?”
“I see love, Father.”
“That’s right, Neil -- the Father loves you.”
And He kisses me gently and encircles my head once more in His arms. “Rest now, Neil – you’re home with Me.”
And so we rest for a bit, sighs periocially escaping my lips, my body sinking into the warmth that surrounds me. After what seems like a long time, His embrace loosens about me and He instructs me to undress. I back away from Him a bit, on my knees, then rise and walk, slightly turned, never turning my back on Him, as I would do with royalty or a revered spiritual teacher. I slowly and neatly take off my clothes and fold them, placing them carefully on the floor, outside of the line of the candles.
The candles form not only a path to Father on His throne, but surround Him as well. To either side there are mirrors that reflect the light and, when I am near Him, reflect His image and my own.
My cock remains erect as it has all day and I kneel and draw close to Him again. Worship me, Neil He instructs and I begin to caress and lick His feet, His ankles, His calves. My hands and mouth rise up to those thighs, which He had once described as being so hard and strong that they could crush the head of a man. Men have asked me to take them like that and I could if I so chose, He has told me in the past. As I worship those crushingly granite-like thighs, He flexes them. What already seemed like stone further crystalizes into densest steel and I feel the potential for harm as the pressure on my skull between them increases. We both know what potential this moment holds, held in check by His love. No words are spoken, but, when released, I begin to feverishly feed on His body, licking, sucking these Stud God thighs as though they will bring me life.
My tongue tastes the salty sweetness of skin and sweat and feels the heat radiating from Him. In a gathering frenzy I try to consume as much of Him as I can, the impression of His Power making me hunger for more and more. And the more I get, the more I want.
“Pray with me, Neil” and He hands me the type script of the worship service He has composed. Find something in this that speaks to your heart and pray to your Father, before you. I scan the sheets and read words of praise and supplication to Him who can channel this Power from above, to help me grow physically and mentally. Concluding the prayer, He points to the next page and we begin to repeat the Chant of Power, as we have previously done over the phone. But now, in person, our voices combine, His steady and resonant, mine at first halting and insecure. But with each repetition His steadiness and strength of voice impacts on mine. The chant grows in volume and our
voices intimately mingle into one sound, one voice.
The chanting crests and He rises to His feet! I fall to the floor between them, completely flat, abject, in total submission. “Good boy, Neil, good boy -- worship your Father! Know my Power! Rise and look at me Neil!” I rise back to a crouching position and look upward. His jock strap has gone and His cock bounces hard above me.
“The moment you have waited for, Neil. Feed from me, Feed from the Father.” I open my mouth and, for the first time, taste His cock, a veined and solid pole that is of a piece with the rest of the flesh that I have already witnessed and tasted. Is His cock hard and proud like His muscles? Or is His body like one giant walking hard on? It doesn’t matter: classifications and metaphors finally fall completely away as I descend finally into a machine for His pleasure and worship, no thought but this cock in my mouth, His precum on my tongue, His hand on my head, guiding me to take Him first lightly, then deeply, then all the way down. What He needs I provide as best as I can.
I can kneel for hours, nursing, sucking, licking, swallowing, choking, gagging, caressing, tasting. I am complete in a way, His cock entering me at last and filling my mind as it fills my mouth. “That’s good, Neil, that’s good. Bring me pleasure. Feed on me.” His resonant voice in my ear keeps me on edge, my cock bouncing, untouched but fully erect, between my thighs. It bounces on the carpet but my mind barely focuses on the sensations there: His cock is my world and the rest is out of my range of sense and thought.
I open my eyes as His thick, rough hands caress my face, my hair. “I promised you, Neil, didn’t I? Is your reward what you wanted, what you desired? Are you happy to be here?” I moan and mumble with His meat in my throat. Its clear how right this is, but He takes further pleasure in my attempts to state it around the shaft that stretches me open.
“Come with me Neil.” He pushes me onto all fours with a hand on my head, then strides past me, slightly tugging at my neck. I follow, on all fours, another pup in the house along with the one that periodically barks in the room next door.He leads me forward and, reduced to faithful pet, I plod along on the carpet behind Him. We cross to the handsomely appointed bedroom (Father has good taste!) where He lowers himself prone on the bed, face down, butt up, legs spread wide. No instructions necessary I leap to the bed between His knees and begin to work my way in between those iron glutes, finding the place that, with my tongue at full pace, will bring Him another level of pleasure. The glutes flex, nearly cracking my head open as His thighs did earlier, a reminder that it is fire with which im playing!
Can I give Him enough pleasure in return for what He has given me? No, not enough, but whatever I can accomplish! As before with His muscles and His cock, we spend enough time for me to become familiar with just what it is that will make Him feel that good. When I have those buttons down He moves again, to try something new. This time He flips on to His back letting me attack His throbbing cock with renewed vigor.
Suddenly, pulling me violently from the deep reverie of cock Service into which ive settled, His hands once more reach down toward me, swooping me upward. The suddeness of the movement, the ease of it, are the first real demonstration ive had of just how STRONG this man is. It is as though my little frame and flesh is nothing, nothing at all. The implication, again: I could be tossed, thrown, even destroyed should this Muscle God choose to use His enormous strength for such a purpose. I am nothing in the cords and cables of sinew and muscle that are His Body. In the flash of an eye, I am flung upwards, into His arms, His tongue entering my mouth for the first time and I am devoured by a kiss to end all kisses. Not a kiss of affection, but a kiss of lust and passion, of dominance to which I submit without choice, a kiss of hunger. Father has begun to feed on me as I have been feeding on Him!
The tongue fucks my throat as His cock had just moments before. My limbs wrap around His torso, His legs, seeking to be a part of Him, to disappear into this power hug that threatens to break me in two. What moans escape me as He ravishes me like this, I havent a clue! My mind registers only His muscles, His body, im disappearing before the onslaught into waves of sensation.
He breaks it off! “What do you want, Neil?” “To give myself to You Father!” “But you’ve done that Neil, you are MINE! What do you want??” “To be consumed by you Father, to become part of you!” “You’re sure you can withstand that Neil? Can you really withstand that?” He’s asking me: the decision is mine -- He will take what I offer, what ever I offer. He wont hesitate. What am I prepared to give? How far will I go??
I recall what He has told me of picking up some disciples in His crushing arms, His mouth to their mouths, sucking the breath from them, taking their power from them, until they pass out, going slack in His tension filled arms. He has told me of the roar that escapes Him as He feels them swoon and slacken, just as He grows hot and strong from His feeding!
“Take my breath, Father, please, take it!”
He grabs me and throws me again, further on to the bed and then pins me beneath His massive, dense body, pressing me downward so that I have no possibility of movement but to squeeze with all my might with my arms wrapped around that impossibly thick torso. The heat is unbelievable. His mouth descends onto mine and I don’t precisely know what He begins to do, but suddenly my breathing is not my own to control. His short chuffing breaths fill then empty my lungs, filling and emptying me, over and over, quicker and quicker. My head begins to grow light as I feel hyperventilation starting to
over take me. It goes on and on, and im seizing Him tighter and tighter! Afraid, yet desperate, on a journey that is totally beyond my control. On and on, my mouth and lungs and breath are extensions of His own, under His total control. Then, suddenly, He is sucking me inside out! Im inhaling with all my might, my chest wall unable to expand as He uses those thick thick thick muscles of His thorax to pull me inside out! Im struggling against Him now, reflex taking over from surrender, but what are my struggles in such a grasp, at such a Muscle God. Hes sucking and sucking, and I feel like my lungs are going to collapse and be seized from my body, and my legs and arms start pushing more frantically, until finally He lets go! And im practically seizing with the effort to recover my breath, to fill my lungs with air. I have not passed out or swooned, and in a flash I realize, too clearly, that He has let me go out of mercy, not out of necessity, and that the only thing keeping me from completely surrender to the ecstatic swoon of those other disciples, is my fear of letting go, of TRULY surrendering to my utmost ability.
“Please Father,” I wheeze out as my body trembles against Him, now desperately grasping on to Him again as my only source of stability. “Please, Father -- take me again!” And He falls on me again, mouth covering mine, the quick short breaths starting again, accelerating into that final terrifying feeding frenzy as He tries to pull the life right from me. I try to stay calm! I try to just flow into Him as the air flows from my lungs into His! But I cant! Panic seizes me again and the struggle begins, my body thrashing, pushing against Him -- hopeless and helpless if He chose to not let go and take this to its utter end! But, again, before my mind crumbles in fear, He lets go and im left gasping, shaking, destroyed!
And yet… and yet! It is as though electric energy sweeps through my body, as though through the surrender and destruction, some new force has entered me and enlivens every fiber of my body. At the point of collapse, my strength reasserts itself. In taking me, He has shared some of His power with me -- an exchange transfusion -- my lesser strength for His greater! What He has taken, He has given me back!
As the wonder of it hits me, my eyes go wide. He watches the understanding dawn in my eyes and then pulls me to Him for another kiss. This one, not to devour, but to love. A Father for His son. A God for a mortal. Our lips separate. I giggle. He smiles. And His hand reaches for my cock.
I must feed more, Neil and He lowers His mighty form downward along my small frame, and my cock disappears into His mouth. That tongue and throat! What He shows me of coaxing pleasure from my cock. His hands prod and probe the parts of my body within reach, feeling the muscles that ive struggle to build for Him, with Him, over the last several months. But more than anything: the sensations of that tongue, those lips.
I look down and see mighty traps, heaving and knotting and bulging as He moves himself up and down on me, this way and that. I reach down to caress the curves and shifting mountains, the rolling surfaces of His shoulders and back at work. He rises up and brings a hand to my cock, lubed with His spit, flashing it up and down, the bulging bicep flexing up and down, up and down, with each flash of sensation. Im starting to moan and buck under the insistent lightening pleasure shooting from His hand, through my cock, into my mind. He raises His orther arm and flexes! The forearm twisting, the veins expanding, almost exploding through the skin! The iron fibers pulling, straining, bulging, flexing, pumping! It goes on and on! He grabs my hand and places it on my cock, so that both arms can rise up, the lats flare! He rises still hire above me, up on His knees now! His arms are moving in and out of flexing displays, that propel the deep thickness of His back and chest into an ever wider, wider, extension of wings to either side! The sight of
these MUSCLES is almost too much! Im whining, moaning, louder and louder as my whole being focuses on this massive, massive God above me!
Father!! OH, FATHER!!! OH FATHER!!!! Im shouting, shouting as I begin to lose control and my the universe dissolves around us, as I dissolve, as everything but His extraordinary muscles explode above me. There is nothing but Father before me, above me, around me! OH OH OH FATHER!!!!!!! FATHERRRRRR!!!!! And the cum flies out of me, up at my head, up on my chest, wave after wave after wave.
Hey there! Was just looking at the site and discovered that you didn't have the final chapter of A God Revealed! I thought I had sent the whole thing, but I obviously didn't… so hear it is -- please include in the next update? Thanks!
Neil aka advnturpup
A God Revealed, Chapter 5: The meeting
As my screams and paroxysms hit their peak, Father leaps to His feet, standing over me. His whole body is flexing now as His left hand grips His iron cock, the fibers of that arms muscles rippling and flashing as He brings Himself to the edge of His own, still more extraordinary climax. He roars again and His whole body goes rigid, the cum shooting from Him in a stream the likes of which ive never seen before, truly like a hose spewing white hot liquid onto my chest, abdomen, and crotch. It pours and pours and pours as
He grunts and trembles with the effort and power of the orgasm. Each white splash on my body feels like hot wax and it makes me convulse into a second climax at the shock of it.
Our screams of ecstacy fade as our bodies jerk and spasm back to normal and the moment recedes. I look up at Him in awe and amazement and bliss. He gazes down at me to see if the intended effect and impression have been made. He smiles seeing the fact of it.
Helping me to clean off, Father then returns to His more human nature, caressing me in His thick arms, talking with me of who I am, who I can become, what He hopes to do for me and for others like me. The benevolence of His concern and encouragement is as moving as the display of His Power and body.
A bit of time later, He leads me to the door and say good bye. As the door closes behind me I walk to the street and pass, buoyantly through the shadows to where I am staying. Im not the boy, nor the man, that I was before this adventure started, and im not sure to where it will lead. But now I am energized, feeling strong and courageous, ready to become what it ever it is I have the potential to come. Father has shown me a way.
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