Man With Bulge Novels & Stories

the man replied flatly as he held out his arm for me to inspect. “Sorry, I need you to remove the top part of your clothes so that I can see your arm,” I told him a little shyly. “Sure…” The man answered without any emotions as he shrugged off his shirt to reveal his very muscular arms. Let’s focus on the wound…and not how well built he is! The wound didn’t seem too deep which was a relief. However, the wound was long like his arm had been slashed by a sharp knife or sword of some sort. --To be continued…

Felicia trembled as she pointed at the men in front of her, enraged. One of the men with a scar on his face raised his head and looked her in the eyes, ashamed. This man's physique was massive, and his bulging muscles were proof that he was an athlete and loves bodybuilding. The aura he radiates was not a nice one, and at first glance, he appeared to be a criminal. The other man next to this muscled man was a little skinnier, but his violent aura was likewise too powerful, and this was not a joke.

I couldn’t protect myself, especially since I didn’t have a wolf. I quickly turned around to run off. “Argh!” Another groan halted me again. This time I was sure it was a person. I turned around. My eyes fixed on the ground where I saw a man’s figure, his hand clenched tightly against his stomach. He wore a white sleeved shirt and a pair of black pants. He didn’t seem to be from around here. I slowly moved closer. Now I could see red blood coming from his lower abdomen. He was injured.

He was staring at his own lap, his mouth, what was left of it, hanging open. Small, fearful huffs escaped his throat. He tried to move, to reach down, but his hands shook so violently that they were useless. Then I looked down too. The man’s trousers were down, but where his member should have been, there was nothing but a lump of flesh. It was gone. His penis was gone.

I couldn't help but notice a bulge, hitting me below my stomach and how his hands tightened around my waist each time the bulge came up. Eat me, Alpha Kade.

The man wouldn't even feel it. Wayne was incredibly bulky, broad-shouldered, and packed with solid muscle. He seriously looked like he was built entirely out of stone instead of actual flesh and blood like normal human beings. If I punched him, I’d probably just end up fracturing every single bone in my hand while he stood there and smirked at me. I quickly thought of option number two—scream for help? Still not a fucking reliable plan.

He instructed, but I could still sense the dithered tone in his voice. The man had a nasty claw wound in his stomach, which he clutched with his only hand. I managed to close up the wound with the resources available in a first aid kit to stop the bleeding, but he needed proper medical care. Four other men were breathing and two people were assigned to help a soldier down to the camp.

No way was I leaving her alone in this crazy mess. A minute later, Abramo brought a man inside—a middle-aged, kinda chubby, totally bald, and seriously not winning any beauty contests. The man looked like he'd seen some rough days. Life had left its mark, with scars and lines all over his face. "Ugly" might be putting it mildly for the dude's battle-worn look.

And he was deciding what his next move should be. The man was wearing a cross between a glove and a gauntlet, on his right hand. We shall call that cross between a glove and a gauntlet: As a ‘glovlet,’ the scowling man was wearing a glovet on his right hand. He placed the glovlet in front of him and a life-like projected 3D image of a person appeared. Willy had been peering through the slits of his eyes and he was taken aback by surprise.

I frown and try to help him up but Russo steps in between us, shaking his head. “You’re out kiddo,” Russo kneels on one knee facing the man, “You won’t be able to shoot.” Dread fills the man’s face and he shakes his head vehemently. “No…I can do it..” he moans, attempting to get up but failing miserably. Russo pokes at his thigh and the man lets out a blood piercing howl. “See? The muscles in your leg have been damaged.” Russo’s eyes fall on the man once more and for the first time since I came to know Russo, gentleness weaves its way into his voice and he gives a fatherly pat on the man’s quivering shoulder.