Testosterone

This story is only for 18+ and contains gay subject matter. Please leave if this is illegal to view where you are. Feel free to comment if you have any suggestions for how these stories should go. 

Somewhere in America, in a lavish, expensive looking room on the 57th floor of a bustling, metropolitan city, Testosterone woke up from his sleep. Getting up, fully rested, he was ready to take on another day of his perfect life that he lived and loved. And why not? He had everything that he ever needed, and knew how he could get anything he ever wanted. He was cocky, arrogant, sharp, and masculine in that outgoing, suave, and teasing way that he could use to manipulate people to do his bidding. You see, he had the perfect life if you were to look at it purely superficially. Yet, in a world that he could control in the palm of his hand (and where he had countless, countless admirers), his arrogant and rude attitude meant that he also had enemies. After all, he was the most polarizing yet successful supervillain of his lifetime.

You see, Testosterone was a supervillain with two unique abilities along with the typical powers of super strength and flight: he could shapeshift and could read the minds of those around him. And as any typical horny gay man would do, this meant he could transform his body into the type of body that any gay man would call "a walking wet dream" or "the most prime jackoff material of his life". He would also be able to know if anyone who saw or walked by him thought the same thing looking at him, by reading their mind. It brought him more than enough pleasure to realize that just by walking down the street, he could hear gay men think "jesus christ. that is the most incredible bubble ass I've ever seen" or "holy motherfucking god. who was that stud? that body is obscene - fuck, I hope he doesn't catch me staring" and know they were going to jack off to his image for the rest of their life. In fact, he had shapeshifted his body into such a godly, perfect spectacle over his life, that every gay, bi, or closeted man on earth that knew of him would agree that he was hotter than anything they had even imagined or dreamed of. His supervillain name was the most searched for title on the gay section of Pornhub, with gay men looking feverishly even for clothed pictures of him to jack off to. Gay men, even the likes of closeted college football players, would feverishly jack off to images of his ass and body regularly at night. Even that normal, sweet, shy, religious and closeted nice guy we all know from work, would jack off to images of Testosterone's muscles  ass just so he could go to sleep and get it out of his head. As he became more famous, posters of him wearing his supervillain suit would be posted on openly gay men's college dorm room walls in the same way that straight men might post Playboy model posters when they wanted something quick to jack off to in their room. His body was such an international sensation that it became part of queer colloquialism. In short, you get the picture, this guy's body was out of this fucking world, and every man wanted his supervillain body desperately. Nobody knew his real name, but it was obvious Testosterone named himself that to make fun of the effect his body had on the testosterone/horniness of men around him. 

Getting up from bed, Testosterone started to get ready. Walking to the center of his room, he stood in front of his giant, full length mirror and gazed upon himself. God, he was fucking hot, and he knew it. He was a spectacle whether you were an ass man, a dick man, a pecs man, or just an everything man. Fuck, even if you were into feet you were into him. This is what he saw as he looked into the mirror:

Essentially, he was a very, very tan looking white man with piercing hazel eyes that stood at 6'3 tall. He had very dark brown, almost black hair, that was cut very short but wavy. His masculine, thick eyebrows, perfectly sculpted nose, and bedroom eyes looked like they came from a magazine. His lips were full - the kind of lips that automatically make you think of getting a perfect, mind-numbing blowjob when you see them move. He always seemed to have  some stubble or trimmed beard on his defined, strong jaw. In a way, his face looked like it could be a stubbled, tanned, italian or greek and handsomer Henry Cavill, with BJ lips, smoother skin, and a teasing, sexy smirk that never went away.

Looking down at his body was enough to make your eyes pop out. He did not look like one of those roided, freakish looking bodybuilders, but he had the most insane body of an extremely beefy fit built jock, with meat in all the right places. His huge, practically unreal, round and meaty pecs practically saluted to the sky, with full nipples that almost always seemed erect. He sometimes liked to just flex/bounce his pecs back and forth (pretending it wasn't on purpose) when in conversations with men about unrelated topics, just to see if they would lose focus of the conversation and fumble trying not to stare at them. They always fumbled. More than enough times he read their minds, realizing they were thinking what it would be like to have their dick between those pecs, massaging the dick with each pec squeeze. 

From that spectacular chest, his body tapered down to a thin waist, only to explode into the most insane beefy bubble muscle ass any ass man would pass out watching. Somehow it looked like a fucking shelf that bubbled out obscenely and was made of bowling balls, without looking comical. Despite their insane shape and size, that ass jiggled like crazy even as he walked. Up and down, up and down, that insane, perfect, huge muscle bubble ass, somehow looked both extremely firm and soft, as it jiggled and perked up in a way that you could not force your eyes away from.

He had incredibly thick, muscular, and curvy thighs and calves, leading to very large, masculine, curved feet. His arms were also sights to behold, appearing to be flexed even without trying. Finally, looking down at his junk, it looked like he practically stuffed his underwear. He was thick as fuck, and easily 7 inches soft, while 10 inches hard. This dick was impossible to hide going out, especially when he tried to jam it in his spandex supervillain suit. That thing bounced like a motherfucker even as he walked. 

Speaking of his supervillain suit, he knew he wanted something that would show off his body and that appealed to every gay man's fantasies. He loved the look of underarmour material, and wanted to make his superhero outfit look like he could also be that stud working out at the gym in a full, body hugging spandex outfit. His colors were red and grey. It was a mostly red body suit with the briefs section looking almost like light gray underarmour compression briefs, and dark red liner along the edges. He did not wear a cape - all the better to show off and tease men with his perfect, perfect backside. As tight as it was, it looked soft to the touch, and would wedge into his butt cheeks so that it almost looked like it was a wedgie and perfectly sculpted each of his cheeks. His enormous dick practically protruded out in it too, but it was not thin enough that you could see the veins - he still wanted at least some type of mystery down there. Again, he wanted this outfit to look half superhero, half teasing muscle jock wearing all lycra/underarmour at the gym. His costume in and of itself was incredibly sexy, and was made to accentuate each of his muscles.

Yes,  Testosterone knew his body had this power over men, and used it to his advantage. He knew that if he asked any bi/gay/curious/or closeted man a favor, they would do anything just so they could stay around him a second longer and get a better peek at even his clothed ass, bulge, or pecs. That being said, no supervillain believes that they are a villain - they believe they are a hero. 

Testosterone felt that he was doing good in teasing closeted men. He believed that it was good work to get closeted men to be confronted with their own sexuality, and force them out of the closet. He would tease them, show off his body, ultimately until the closeted man could not control himself any longer and would be made obvious that he was gay or bi. And this would make many closeted and gay/bi men both love him and hate him. They did not want to be outed, yet they also wanted to enjoy his body at the same time, which never worked. His favorite targets were the cocky and arrogant, straight acting guys, who secretly were desperately gay and horny, and force them out of the closet publicly through their obsession with his muscles and outrageous ass... These stories are about how Testosterone had this effect on these closeted men...