Danny is horny
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 17
by
copier
· original author:
an188
Danny emerged from the shower stall still dripping, the oversized trophy cradled in one massive arm like a scepter, the medal swinging between his colossal pecs, the bouquet of white roses dangling carelessly from his other hand. Steam curled around his naked, freshly scrubbed body—milky skin now free of bronze paint, every vein and striation glistening under the harsh fluorescent lights.
The real prize wasn’t the hardware.
It was the looks on the other competitors’ faces.
Humiliation. Envy. Defeat. Some stared openly, mouths slack; others turned away, shoulders hunched, suddenly small in their posing trunks. Danny walked past them with slow, rolling sensuality—hips swaying just enough to make his heavy cock and balls swing pendulously, thighs rubbing with a soft, muscular whisper. His terrible smug smile never wavered; it was the smile of a predator who had already eaten.
One of the middleweight guys—veins popping from his own pump—muttered under his breath, “Freak…” Danny heard it perfectly with super senses. He didn’t even turn his head; he just flexed his free arm once. The bicep ballooned obscenely, veins like cables under skin. The man flinched as if slapped.
“Tomorrow’s going to be even better,” Danny murmured to no one in particular, voice low and velvet. “Exhibition floor. Supplement brands. Fitness apparel. Advertising agencies waving seven-figure contracts. They’ll all be hunting for the new face—and body—of their brands.” His golden eyes (hidden behind blue contacts) glittered. “And they’re all going to chase me.”
Over the week in the mountains he’d had endless hours to think. The initial fantasy of immediate world conquest had sharpened under his doubled intellect into cold pragmatism. Enslaving humanity was still the endgame—natural, inevitable, delicious—but it required infrastructure: money, influence, media control, psychological leverage. One man—even a god—couldn’t topple global systems overnight without massive backlash. He needed status first. Celebrity. Worship from the masses before he revealed the whip.
Tomorrow he would begin.
He pushed through the backstage exit into the cool night air.
The crowd waiting outside the convention center was thicker than expected—fans, influencers, thirsty locals who’d seen the viral clips. The moment he appeared, phones flashed like lightning. Gasps. Whistles. Women bit lips; men stared in stunned silence. Desire and jealousy hit him like a drug—thick, heady, intoxicating. His cock thickened instantly, pushing against the tight silver T-shirt and gold shorts, the outline obscene.
Then he saw them.
The three valley girls from earlier—bleached hair, glossy lips, crop tops and high-waisted leggings—standing near the barricade, eyes wide, phones already recording.
Danny sauntered over, every step radiating dominance. “Ladies. Couldn’t stay away?”
They giggled nervously, pressing closer. “We… we saw you on stage. Oh my god, Danny…”
He leaned down, letting them smell the clean, masculine scent still clinging to his skin. “You wanted to see what was under the hoodie. Now you’ve seen.” His voice dropped, thick with innuendo. “But there’s more. A lot more.”
One—blonde, fake lashes—reached out hesitantly and brushed her fingers over his bicep. “Can we… touch?”
He flexed the arm under her palm. The muscle erupted, hard as steel. She gasped. “Go ahead. Feel what a real man is.”
They swarmed him—hands roaming his chest, abs, shoulders—giggling, moaning softly. He let them grope, smirking. “You know, I’m feeling generous tonight. And very… unsatisfied. One of you alone? Cute, but not enough.” He looked between them, eyes dark. “I’m thinking an orgy. My apartment. Now.”
They flushed crimson, trying to play coy. “We’re not that easy, Danny…”
He laughed—low, smug, cruel. “Please. You’re already wet just from touching my arm. Don’t insult us both.” He leaned closer, voice velvet menace. “Come with me. Or spend the rest of your lives wondering what you missed.”
They caved instantly.
The walk back to his apartment was electric—girls hanging off his arms, whispering, giggling, stealing touches. Inside, he kicked the door shut. Locked it with one finger.
Then he flexed.
Every muscle group exploded—shoulders, traps, pecs, arms, abs, quads—all at once. The silver T-shirt tore down the front; gold shorts ripped at the seams. Fabric fluttered away. He stood naked, 7'0" of hypertrophied, vascular perfection, cock already half-hard and leaking silver pre-cum.
The girls orgasmed on the spot—just from the sight. Knees buckled. Soft cries. Thighs clenched.
Danny spread his arms. “Touch. Worship. Go ahead.”
They threw themselves at him.
Hands everywhere—groping pecs, tracing abs, squeezing biceps that wouldn’t budge. Lips followed: kissing the deep separations between muscles, tongues pushing into the crevices of his eight-pack, lapping at the thick veins on his forearms. One girl buried her face between his pecs; another licked along the Adonis belt; the third knelt and kissed the base of his cock.
Danny laughed—smug, triumphant. “That’s it. Show me how much you need this.”
He lay back on the ruined sectional (it groaned but held). “Pleasure me. Worship my cock.”
They swarmed it—kissing the shaft, licking the leaking silver pre-cum, moaning at the taste. Tongues swirled around the head; lips sucked greedily. He leaked more; they drank it like nectar.
He ripped their clothes off in one motion—fabric tearing like tissue. Then he took them one by one.
First the blonde: lifted her effortlessly, impaled her slowly, controlled. She screamed in pleasure, nails raking uselessly at his back. He fucked her hard but precise—bringing her to three shattering orgasms before pulling out.
Second—the brunette: bent over the arm of the couch, taken from behind. Her legs shook; she sobbed his name. Two more climaxes.
Third—the redhead: on her back, legs over his shoulders. Deep, relentless thrusts. She came four times, eyes rolling back.
Each time he held back his own release. He knew what would happen if he came inside them—acidic, overwhelming volume. They’d die.
When they collapsed—exhausted, trembling, covered in sweat and his pre-cum—Danny stood.
He stroked himself slowly, disdainfully, looking down at their spent bodies. “Not bad. But still not enough.”
He pumped faster—eyes rolling back, tongue lolling.
“Splurge—Spluurge—Spluuurge—!!”
Silver cum erupted in thick ropes—splattering walls, floor, ceiling. The living room looked like a crime scene of liquid mercury.
Sweat—thick, rubbery—poured off him in sheets.
Still throbbing, still horny, he walked to the bathroom, aimed at the toilet, and emptied the rest—liters flooding the bowl, swirling silver. He flushed. The water turned metallic briefly before disappearing.
Back in the living room, the girls lay limp, dazed.
Danny made himself coffee—black, scalding—sipped it naked, leaning against the counter, smiling.
Perfect end to a perfect night.
Danny...
1. Danny is still horny and arouses the girls for more sex.
2. Morning comes and Danny returns to the exhibition, ready to begin his journey to enslave the human race.
The real prize wasn’t the hardware.
It was the looks on the other competitors’ faces.
Humiliation. Envy. Defeat. Some stared openly, mouths slack; others turned away, shoulders hunched, suddenly small in their posing trunks. Danny walked past them with slow, rolling sensuality—hips swaying just enough to make his heavy cock and balls swing pendulously, thighs rubbing with a soft, muscular whisper. His terrible smug smile never wavered; it was the smile of a predator who had already eaten.
One of the middleweight guys—veins popping from his own pump—muttered under his breath, “Freak…” Danny heard it perfectly with super senses. He didn’t even turn his head; he just flexed his free arm once. The bicep ballooned obscenely, veins like cables under skin. The man flinched as if slapped.
“Tomorrow’s going to be even better,” Danny murmured to no one in particular, voice low and velvet. “Exhibition floor. Supplement brands. Fitness apparel. Advertising agencies waving seven-figure contracts. They’ll all be hunting for the new face—and body—of their brands.” His golden eyes (hidden behind blue contacts) glittered. “And they’re all going to chase me.”
Over the week in the mountains he’d had endless hours to think. The initial fantasy of immediate world conquest had sharpened under his doubled intellect into cold pragmatism. Enslaving humanity was still the endgame—natural, inevitable, delicious—but it required infrastructure: money, influence, media control, psychological leverage. One man—even a god—couldn’t topple global systems overnight without massive backlash. He needed status first. Celebrity. Worship from the masses before he revealed the whip.
Tomorrow he would begin.
He pushed through the backstage exit into the cool night air.
The crowd waiting outside the convention center was thicker than expected—fans, influencers, thirsty locals who’d seen the viral clips. The moment he appeared, phones flashed like lightning. Gasps. Whistles. Women bit lips; men stared in stunned silence. Desire and jealousy hit him like a drug—thick, heady, intoxicating. His cock thickened instantly, pushing against the tight silver T-shirt and gold shorts, the outline obscene.
Then he saw them.
The three valley girls from earlier—bleached hair, glossy lips, crop tops and high-waisted leggings—standing near the barricade, eyes wide, phones already recording.
Danny sauntered over, every step radiating dominance. “Ladies. Couldn’t stay away?”
They giggled nervously, pressing closer. “We… we saw you on stage. Oh my god, Danny…”
He leaned down, letting them smell the clean, masculine scent still clinging to his skin. “You wanted to see what was under the hoodie. Now you’ve seen.” His voice dropped, thick with innuendo. “But there’s more. A lot more.”
One—blonde, fake lashes—reached out hesitantly and brushed her fingers over his bicep. “Can we… touch?”
He flexed the arm under her palm. The muscle erupted, hard as steel. She gasped. “Go ahead. Feel what a real man is.”
They swarmed him—hands roaming his chest, abs, shoulders—giggling, moaning softly. He let them grope, smirking. “You know, I’m feeling generous tonight. And very… unsatisfied. One of you alone? Cute, but not enough.” He looked between them, eyes dark. “I’m thinking an orgy. My apartment. Now.”
They flushed crimson, trying to play coy. “We’re not that easy, Danny…”
He laughed—low, smug, cruel. “Please. You’re already wet just from touching my arm. Don’t insult us both.” He leaned closer, voice velvet menace. “Come with me. Or spend the rest of your lives wondering what you missed.”
They caved instantly.
The walk back to his apartment was electric—girls hanging off his arms, whispering, giggling, stealing touches. Inside, he kicked the door shut. Locked it with one finger.
Then he flexed.
Every muscle group exploded—shoulders, traps, pecs, arms, abs, quads—all at once. The silver T-shirt tore down the front; gold shorts ripped at the seams. Fabric fluttered away. He stood naked, 7'0" of hypertrophied, vascular perfection, cock already half-hard and leaking silver pre-cum.
The girls orgasmed on the spot—just from the sight. Knees buckled. Soft cries. Thighs clenched.
Danny spread his arms. “Touch. Worship. Go ahead.”
They threw themselves at him.
Hands everywhere—groping pecs, tracing abs, squeezing biceps that wouldn’t budge. Lips followed: kissing the deep separations between muscles, tongues pushing into the crevices of his eight-pack, lapping at the thick veins on his forearms. One girl buried her face between his pecs; another licked along the Adonis belt; the third knelt and kissed the base of his cock.
Danny laughed—smug, triumphant. “That’s it. Show me how much you need this.”
He lay back on the ruined sectional (it groaned but held). “Pleasure me. Worship my cock.”
They swarmed it—kissing the shaft, licking the leaking silver pre-cum, moaning at the taste. Tongues swirled around the head; lips sucked greedily. He leaked more; they drank it like nectar.
He ripped their clothes off in one motion—fabric tearing like tissue. Then he took them one by one.
First the blonde: lifted her effortlessly, impaled her slowly, controlled. She screamed in pleasure, nails raking uselessly at his back. He fucked her hard but precise—bringing her to three shattering orgasms before pulling out.
Second—the brunette: bent over the arm of the couch, taken from behind. Her legs shook; she sobbed his name. Two more climaxes.
Third—the redhead: on her back, legs over his shoulders. Deep, relentless thrusts. She came four times, eyes rolling back.
Each time he held back his own release. He knew what would happen if he came inside them—acidic, overwhelming volume. They’d die.
When they collapsed—exhausted, trembling, covered in sweat and his pre-cum—Danny stood.
He stroked himself slowly, disdainfully, looking down at their spent bodies. “Not bad. But still not enough.”
He pumped faster—eyes rolling back, tongue lolling.
“Splurge—Spluurge—Spluuurge—!!”
Silver cum erupted in thick ropes—splattering walls, floor, ceiling. The living room looked like a crime scene of liquid mercury.
Sweat—thick, rubbery—poured off him in sheets.
Still throbbing, still horny, he walked to the bathroom, aimed at the toilet, and emptied the rest—liters flooding the bowl, swirling silver. He flushed. The water turned metallic briefly before disappearing.
Back in the living room, the girls lay limp, dazed.
Danny made himself coffee—black, scalding—sipped it naked, leaning against the counter, smiling.
Perfect end to a perfect night.
Danny...
1. Danny is still horny and arouses the girls for more sex.
2. Morning comes and Danny returns to the exhibition, ready to begin his journey to enslave the human race.
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·
June 13
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