Interactive: Preying at The Altar, ch. 2 (Patreon)

Nate let the heavy bar drop with a loud clang, the sound blending in with the grunts and bangings of the other meatheads around him.  His large pecs heaved against his sweat-soaked tank top as a seemingly endless stream of liquid dripped down from his buzzed, auburn scalp.  He wiped his sharp, wolfish features with a paper towel, flexing his giant arm in the mirror as he did so.  Nate’s biceps were the size of most people’s heads, and they were just one facet of the walking mountain of muscle.  At 6’4”, Nate already towered over just about everyone, but throw in nearly three hundred pounds of burly bulk and he was truly an intimidating sight.  He didn’t have the ripped, vanity muscles that a lot of guys went for, either.  Nate was pure, thick beef.  He was lean, but he didn’t have the striated, shredded body like the guys over at the campus gym.  He wasn’t interested in being one of them.  He left the pretty-boy bullshit to his friend Chris, opting instead to build a giant body that radiated a masculine confidence.  

And as if his natural size wasn’t eye-catching enough, he was covered in tattoos from the shoulders down.  The entirety of both mammoth arms were covered in bright sleeves, joined to each other by the intricate pattern inked into his beefy pecs.  His tight, flat stomach was still bare, but each of this thick thighs picked things back up, with bright designs flowing all the way down his rocky calves to the tops of his feet.  His body was a work of art in more ways than one.  

Just looking at the tall, broad man told you what his priorities were.  When he wasn’t at the gym, Nate spent his days either working or getting another piece done in a tattoo shop.  It was a perfect fit for the burly man.  He tended towards an angsty disposition to begin with, so the shop gave him a creative outlet without the trappings of a “regular” job, which themselves weren’t in great supply in his small New England town anyway.  The only other options were to work in one of the mills or fisheries in town.  He’d done both briefly and wasn’t eager to go back.  

The other added bonus to working in the shop was the steady supply of women that it provided.  His brooding, handsome features were impressive by themselves, but when you added in his beefy build, he had women throwing themselves at him daily.  He was only too happy to oblige them.  It was rare for a day to pass without him hooking up with at least one woman at the shop,  and if he didn’t land one there, he and the boys had no problem finding them at the bar after work.  His appetite was insatiable.  

Nate eyed the loaded bar and considered another set, but decided against it.  He had an appointment coming to the shop in an hour.  Specifically, a short, redheaded appointment with an ass for days that he wanted to spend some extra time with.  He rolled his bowling ball shoulders and headed for the locker room, stripping out of the tank top as he went.  

“Lookin’ good out there, man,” one of the older, ‘roided out regulars said as they passed.  

“You too stud,” Nate laughed, slapping the man’s bulging muscle gut.  He liked this gym for its no-nonsense approach.  Most of the guys that went there were older and had been lifting and cycling for years.  They were all bulky, thick muscle heads.  All they wanted to do was come and lift, not hang out or try and hook up like in the college gyms.  With as many steroids as the guys used, Nate wasn’t sure that half of them could even get hard anymore if they wanted to.  

He needed that feeling of superiority as he peeled out of his baggy basketball shorts, exposing his straining grey boxer briefs.  The damp cotton was stretched to capacity around the large, firm globes of his ass, but there was only a slight bulge between Nate’s impressive legs.  At his hardest, he topped out at just over five inches.  No amount of flexing or posing could hide the smallness of his endowment.  While it would have only been slightly below average for most guys, given his excessive frame, his package looked positively tiny on him.  Not that he ever got complaints.  Any initial doubts that someone had faded quickly once he got to work.  Like the rest of his sculpted body, Nate knew how to use every one of the few inches he had.  He prided himself on always leaving women satisfied.  

Still, he felt a pang of self-consciousness every time he stripped naked in the locker room and walked to the showers.  Whenever he’d see a guy half his size but with twice the dick, he was filled him with an embarrassed rage.  He hated how envious he was of their thick, dangling hoses while his only poked out from the trimmed bush around it.  He could pick them up and throw them across the room, but they still beat him in that regard.  He could spend all the time in the world building the rest of his impressive muscles, but there was nothing he could do about the one part of him that actually was small.  

He tried to push the thoughts from his mind while he rinsed his aching muscles under the warm stream.  Soon enough he’d have a chance to prove to everyone, himself included, that he wasn’t lacking anything.  He told himself he’d feel better once he got laid; it usually did the trick.  

His little cock twitching with anticipation, Nate hurried to finish up so he could get to the shop.  

******

What happens once the effects of the Altar catch up?