THE SCHWARZENEGGER DREAM: PART III

FLEX and WOLF squeezed their bulk through the cell door.

"Follow us bro". Oldman got up, still unused to his new weight. He walked behind the two cops into the dimly lit gym.

"You work hard, bro, real hard. Time to see da muscle" Sarge Flex smiled.

Oldman knew what he had been wanting do for the last eight weeks. He grabbed the sweat shirt and tore it off his chest.

The smiling buzzed pinhead perched on top of a v-shaped wall of muscle staring back at him did not shock him. Oldman wasn't even surprised: what he saw suddenly felt natural as he walked towards the mirror, inspecting his melon-sized pecs that reached up to his chin, twitching with every motion. His arms were pushed out sideways by thick lats, his two pumped biceps covered in veins. His bronzed abs were like bricks, with his distended pec beef hanging over his ribcage.

Even his face had changed, but this did not faze Oldman. His mandibles had widened his bearded jaw, now sunk into his even wider neck, all but disappearing into his traps that seem to reach up to his ears. This made his buzzed skull look even more pin-headed. Prolonged roid and GH abuse had swollen his lips, brow, nose and eye sockets, making him look a neanderthal throwback. His hardening cock told him this was the real him, the man he should be, the man he saw in his dreams. Oldman was not shocked, but pleased, satisfied, vindicated.

"What d'ya think Oldman?" Asked FLEX, surprised by Oldman's quiet normality. Usually the guys freak out at their big reveal. "You..DO like what ya see, yeah?."

"Hell yeah, bro - as big as you guys now" Oldman barely smiled as he inspected his new power.

FLEX mimed a most muscular at Oldman: but he hardly needed to ask, as Oldman punched out a double bi like he had learned all those years back from Arnie. Oldman nodded with self-satisfaction at his 20" bis balling up to his ears, crowding his syntholed delts for room.

"What am I now, 240, 250?"Oldman asked, matter of fact...

"255".

"Got more work to do then" grinned Oldman, as he banged out a most muscular, every new muscle jostling for space under his skin, threatening to tear through the gold posing tan. Oldman's skull seemed even more tiny, engulfed by trap muscle right up to his ears. Oldman held the pose, slowly flexing every separate group, savouring his pure mass, as he deserved.

"And the legs man" said FLEX.

Oldman didn't hesitate to rip of the flimsy jogging pants. Oldman was so self-satisfied with his image, so busy inspecting each striation that he forgot, or didn't care that FLEX and WOLF where there or that his pumped 9 inches jutted out over massive quads. Oldman slowly massaged his inches, pleased with the heft of his cock that looked even bigger than before.

"You ready for your passing out, bud?". WOLF asked, realizing that Oldman was more than ready - like he'd been a Cellblock Officer all his life.

"Bring it on bro."

SARGE FLEX opened the gym door, and group of shorter, smaller men - some kind of servants or (cadets, maybe?) in plain black leather shirts and trousers filed in, and stood to attentiotn, heads bowed. Each held piles of clothes or wooden boxes.

FLEX signalled a gauntleted hand to the nearest, who swiftly unfolded a gleaming pair of striped Langlitz horsehide Rangers breeches, with wide legs and even wider "balloons" tapeing to an impossibly narrow waistband.

"Try them for size. You were measured last week in your sleep."

Oldman slipped the cold, stiff leather over his heavy 30" quads. A cadet instantly dropped to its knees to fasten the side-zips. They fitted like armour. However Oldman struggled to cram his cock meat into the satin-thin leather cod.

"Have to leave the top snap open bro"Oldman grinned as his cockhead prised open the fasteners.

"Yeah, that happens a lot". FLEX smiled...

Another servant knelt before him and placed before Oldman a large, heavy gleaming pair of Dehner size 12s, and held them in place with white dress gloves for the cop to step into. The bootservant then quickly whipped out a cloth for a final shine. The bootboy looked up at the musclecop for a sign-off. Oldman nodded approval as the servant backed away on its knees. Oldman was instinctively assuming his natural role, calling the shots...

Another servant unfurled a v-shaped tent of a uniform shirt in the costliest thinly tanned horsehide. Oldman slipped it on, as it snapped neatly round his biceps, already straining the 20" sleeves.

Oldman was then handed an issue Sam Brown, and regulation Glock, PR24 and bike keys to put on the belt. "Your Low-Rider's waiting for you in the pound, Cop".

The two cadets with boxes were next. SARGE FLEX nodded to one, who opened a large box, full of money. "These are your business earnings - let's say from some of your debtors." OldmanB grinned guessing this was from one of the shake-downs he had seen on the CCTV.

FLEX nodded to the other cadet, who opened a large box of
cigars. Oldman chose the largest Martinez, which the cadet asked to take from Oldman, cutting and preparing the fat stick, and offering the stogie back to his Cop Boss, then lighting the big man's gar. Oldman inhaled the costly, chocolate fumes, and felt more and more part of this new elite force, more powerful, more superior with every breath.

Oldman was then handed his Officer cap. "Don't put it on yet, Cop. Now You gonna meet your men."

FLEX signalled for the shutters between the gym and the Mess to be opened, revealing ranks of Officers in full dress uniform each with a cadet by their side.

"I give you Officer BOSS". WOLF announced, handing the newly crowned Officer his badge. The ranks of leather cops hooted loudly in approval of BOSS's newly gained muscle, as he placed the peaked cap on his head, neatly hugging the roll of muscle on the back of his skull, the visor sitting tightly right down on the thick bridge of his nose.

"Come on, Cop, show us ya new beef".

"Yeah, come on, DO IT."

"Flex em COP!"

Oldman banged out a quick, unsmiling most muscular, turning to each side of the Mess to the adulation of his men.

"Fuck Man, awesome" shouted the gang of cop goons.". The thick smokey atmosphere was electric with testosterone. Officer BOSS felt good, hell, he felt like he'd been here on the platform with the men below him all his life.


"Got something here to complete your passing out"WOLF shouted across the rabble. "The final part of your initiation. Know you'll like THIS bro".

Suddenly a path was cleared through the mass of leather uniforms and smoke by the leathered bulk of Sarge FLEX dragging a naked man by a leash, cuffed and hooded.

FLEX kicked the vic up on to the platform with a heavy boot and onto its knees.

"Know you'd been wantin to try ya hand at interrogation."

FLEX pulled the hood off and with one paw round its neck pointed its face up towards its new overseer.

BOSS smiled, as he saw through the cigar smoke, his ex-wife's meathead husband grovelling before his boots, with a jawbreaker clamping his mouth wide-open. The vic, now nowhere near as muscular as BOSS, had no idea who the leatherclad, bearded muscle bully was. BOSS BOSS's transformation, or rather his assuming of the powerful legacy that was rightly his, completely confused the vic, who did not recognise the 255 pounds of ugly uniform muscle towering above him, or what kind of police these were.

The pack of men started to chant. "Fuckthacunt. DO IT COP!!!!! Fuckthacunt"

As the pack of copthugs banged on the floor with their copboots, WOLF grinned at BOSS as he unhooked a tool of his cop belt.

"Use this bud, don't wanna leave any evidence hehe" WOLF laughed handing BOSS a heaby rubber cocksheath.

The newly inaugurated Cop simply nodded back, as he unfastened his cod. His pumped inches jutted up from his breeches.

"DO IT COP!!!". BOSS's men hollered, as he crammed his meat into the heavy cockclub.

As WOLF raped the vics clamped mouth BOSS split the perp's shute with one brutal cockpunch.
The troop of men hooted, cheering their new Officer recruit on, as he pounded the ass of his wife's husband. With every scream, every blow and every mouthful of cigar smoke, BOSS took on more and more of the power that was rightly his, his ego inflating to the natural, pumped, roided, brutal level of an ALPHAMALE and leader of men.

As the cheers and adulation reached a deafening sonic boom. BOSS shot his junk in unison with WOLF. Only the curl of cigar smoke from the corner of his mouth showied he'd cum, that he'd completely humiliated the vic, completely achieved ALPHACOP staus.

BOSS roughly unsheathed from the perp's ass, and WOLF unplugged his weapon from its skull.

BOSS kicked the moaning, broken perp on its back.

BOSS towered above his uniformed troops, more muscular than ever. Through his cigar smoke BOSS looked down, over the top of his pecs admiring the girth of his thick 9 incher jutting out of his leather breeches. BOSS flexed a double bicep to the adulation of his kneeling troops, as his roided semen splashed out of his cock down onto his cop boot and the slave's face under it....