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  1. Today
  2. Absman420


    I only ask that there be no resolution to the mick/ Tino plotline. I’m working on that chapter myself. Thanks!
  3. Lukullus

    Come to Me: Conclusion

    A truly awesome way to end this great story! Thanks again for your amazing work!
  4. Welcome back to the forum, Teknodave!

    Your subscription to the Unfiltered Section has been approved. 

    Please let me know if you have any questions.

    --Scriptboy, Forum Senior Administrator 

    1. teknodave


      Thanks man, already falling in love with the Unfiltered stories. 😈

  5. jtchef

    Come to Me: Conclusion

    Amazing 💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻Story my friend💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻
  6. neuheimeer


    In the next few days, this becomes a series. I hope you'll enjoy it, as is my VERY FIRST story series.
  7. arpeejay

    Come to Me: Conclusion

    By Richard Jasper Part 9 is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/15409-come-to-me-part-9/Conclusion “Wow,” Jesse said, looking stunned. “Wow,” Eric echoed, rubbing his hands across the eight boulders, each the size of a shipping crate, that made up Heck’s abdominal wall. Heck’s massive phallus twitched. “Careful there, little fella,” Heck said, reverting to his usual conversational tone. “It’s been a long time.” Jesse was the first to recover. “So then what happened?” he asked. “What happened to Tsuxaloat?” Heck lifted his mammoth arms and raised his hands to the ceiling. “He started fading and then turning into what seemed like some kind of vapor,” Heck said. “Up and up he went, disappearing above. His last words, ‘You will know what to do.’” Heck’s chuckle threatened, Eric thought, to bring down the ceiling. He grabbed Jesse’s shoulders and hung on as a tsunami of muscle raced up and down Heck’s monstrous quads. “That was a damned lie,” Heck continued. “I didn’t have the foggiest idea of what I was supposed to do. But I sat here on the throne and then I knew.” His job, Heck said, was to grow. To become another Tzuxaloat. And when he was done growing, to find someone to succeed him in the Mountain. “I figure it took Tzuxaloat 300 years and a bit to become what he was when I saw him,” Heck pointed out. “My guess is that, even though he was a warrior prince, he wasn’t a huge man when he found the cave. By the time I found him, I was about twice the size of any of his Indio descendants. As far as I can tell, I am a couple of feet taller than he was and a couple of feet broader. And it’s only taken me 200 years.” By the time Heck was finished speaking, Eric was rock hard. Is that what lay in front of him? Was that the purpose of his life? Spending 200 years growing to monstrous size, all those years alone? “Who said I was alone?” Heck asked, once again demonstrating his ability to receive as well as send. “Over the past 20 decades I have had a steady stream of young men who have come and bathed in the pool, drunk from my fountain, and then emerged bigger, stronger, better, than they had any reason to be.” Eric heaved a sigh of relief, then saw Jesse looking at him. “Viejo, Hombre,” Jesse began… Heck looked down at the stud sitting in his lap and remembered Jesse’s ancestors and uncles and cousins, many of whom had visited him over the previous two centuries. “Si, pequeno?” Jesse cleared his throat. “How big were you when you came to the mountain?” Heck drummed his log-sized fingers on a kneecap the size of a golf cart. “That’s a good question and I can’t say I rightly know,” he replied. “Fine instrumentation for measuring this or that was hard to come by in those days. But I am guessing that I was a little bit shorter than Eric here, which made me exceedingly tall for the time, and about half his weight.” Eric’s eyes widened. “Half?!” Heck nodded. “Surely no more than that,” he said. “We just didn’t have as much food around in those days as you do now. I was pretty much about the biggest a man could get back that, not without turning into a porker, that is.” Jesse continued. “So in 200 years…” Heck’s massive member twitched again. “Eric here could be twice the size I am now.” Eric orgasmed, clutching Jesse to his mammoth chest. “Need – to – breathe!” Eric let go, then smiled sheepishly. “And what about me?” Jesse asked. Heck grinned. “I don’t rightly know, son,” he said. “Heretofore I would say take a dip in the pool, climb my cock and have a few licks, then go out and conquer the world. You’ll be the biggest, strongest, studliest man anyone has ever seen, maybe even as big as Eric here.” Eric could see it plain as day. “Or…” Jesse nodded. “Or maybe Eric needs some company,” he said. “Someone to keep the place tidy and to go fetch, uh, entertainment.” Heck scratched his chin. “Could be,” he said. “I don’t think it’s set in stone. You boys will figure it out. Now go take a dip in the pool. I think I need to stretch my legs a bit.” Eric and Jesse climbed down, shucked their clothes, and headed to the pool. Turning, they saw Heck standing tall, his vast arms outstretched. “I don’t know where I’m going,” he said. “But I’ll be watching. Take good care.” And with that he began to dissolve, his substance turning to vapor and vanishing into the ceiling. Jesse took Eric’s hand. “I love you, you know,” he said. Eric squeezed the big man’s hand, gently but firmly, as if he never intended to let go. “I know,” he said. “And I love you back. But…?” Jesse laughed. “Will I still love you when you’re 20 feet tall and have a 10 foot dick? Are you crazy! OF COURSE, I’ll love you!” He attached himself to Eric’s left nipple, causing an instantaneous rock hard erection. “And who knows,” he pondered. “Maybe we’ll need a second throne?!” Eric grinned. He liked that idea! He liked that idea A LOT! “Cum for me, babe,” he whispered in Jesse’s ear. “Cum for me.” THE END
  8. peterliamparker

    Growth by comments

    OMG YES!! Thank you!!!
  9. RecoveringLearner

    Where have you done it?

    And I'm surprised to see that they limited it to "at home" locations.
  10. Yesterday
  11. myfaceisitchy

    Come to Me: Part 9

    I’ll try and wait patiently for the next part
  12. teknodave

    Weight Gain and Weight Loss

    Thanks for sharing! Me, I have been doing a loooooooot of walking. Being without a car for five years now, I take public transit, and on my days off, I have spent a lot of time playing augmented reality games on my mobile phone, Ingress and Pokemon Go. When I started playing the game four years ago, I have walked well over 2,500 miles between the two, and have dropped from 200 pounds, down to 150. I have since had an uptick and have been bouncing around the 160-165 range, but am working on getting set up on a new diet plan and hire an online PT to help eliminate the stubborn fat that I have not been able to shed yet, and build on some healthy muscle. The goal failed for my 20 year high school reunion, but I am sure as hell gonna look awesome for the 30 year.
  13. arpeejay

    Come to Me: Part 9

    By Richard Jasper Part 8 is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12252-come-to-me-part-8/PART 9 The cave entrance was no more than eight feet wide, which meant that Eric’s shoulders were in serious danger of brushing the sides. “Here,” Jesse said, jumping down from Eric’s back. “Let me lead the way. I don’t want you getting stuck.” Eric didn’t object. “Great!” he said. “I’ll just concentrate on your fine Native American ass!” Jesse snorted. “That’s ‘Injun’ to you, White Boy!” The must have walked a mile, occasionally having to bend over through low overhangs, more often having to twist and turn through narrow bits. Given that Eric was nearly four feet thick from his nips to his lats, it might have been a bit worrisome… “But it’s pretty clear someone’s done some blasting,” Jesse said. It was true. The narrow areas also tended to be unnaturally smooth, as if someone had gone through with a giant piece of sandpaper. “Except that there aren’t any blast marks that I can see,” Eric added. “Wouldn’t be less polished looking if they’d blasted?” Jesse shrugged his yard-wide shoulders. “Beats me boss…” But that wasn’t the only weird thing. No matter how far into the cave they walked they never needed to use their flashlights. “Just as well,” Jesse pointed. “I’m not sure how long the batteries would have lasted.” Eric nodded. “It’s a mite peculiar, I’ll have to agree.” Eventually they felt a breeze that was just a bit cooler and damper than that they had encountered all the way from the mouth of the cave. “I think we’re nearly there,” Jesse said over his shoulder. Then they were there! The chamber was vast, easily a quarter mile across, with a ceiling a couple of hundred feet above a large, oval, perfectly still pool of water. Directly across from them, there was a statue of a gigantic man, easily 10 or 12 feet tall and even wider than it was tall. The stone was a deep, rich red, like Carnelian or red Jasper, shot through with streaks of gold and silver and alabaster. Even from across the pool they could clearly see the incredible musculature that had been carved from the stone, traps and delts and pecs and serratus and abs, biceps that were themselves 10 feet in circumference, and an 8-foot tall phallus sticking straight up from a pair of legs that would have been appropriate on Atlas (if Atlas had decided to set a spell after holding up the world for 10,000 years.) And it wasn’t just the size. As Eric and Jesse walked around the pool and up to the sculpture, they could see veins and striations and the kind of detailing that would make an Olympia contender weep in envy. Yet it was clear that the sculpture was incredibly old. “How were they able to imagine that kind of conditioning?” Eric wondered aloud. They stared up at the statue. Its eyes suddenly opened, revealing startling blue irises. “There was no imagining to it.” The voice that rumbled forth could have leveled a city block. Eric and Jesse sank to their knees. “It’s just how I grew.” It was HIM! The voice inside their head! “Hello boys,” the Giant said. “What took you so long?” Jesse’s eyes rolled back in his head and his powerful body slumped into Eric’s arms, arms that until five minutes previously had been the biggest either of them had ever seen! +++ “Oh, dear,” the Giant said, once again reverting the voice inside their heads. “I was afraid of that.” Eric stood in front of him, slack-jawed. “He’ll wake up soon enough,” the Giant continued. “When he does, climb up onto my lap and bring your little friend with you, there’s a good lad.” Jesse came around a minute later. “Hop on,” Eric said. “We’re going up.” The Giant’s lap was only seven or eight feet off the ground so Eric just leaped! And they were there. “That’s better,” the Giant said. “Now let me introduce myself…” It wasn’t words so much as pictures but gist was: My name is Hezekiah Erastus Wallingford, but you can call me Heck. I was born in New London, Connecticut in 1792. The wanderlust having hit me bad at an early age, and having no fondness of New England winters, I left home at age 16 and started making my way South, eventually coming to rest in Tennessee, where I met one Andrew Jackson, who later defeated the British at the Battle of New Orleans during the War of 1812. I joined General Jackson’s troops as soon as the call went out and I saw plenty of action. After the war, I realized I was tired of being hemmed in so I struck out west. I had spent some time in Spanish Florida and had picked up the lingo there, along with French in New Orleans, and as I traveled I determined that I was something of a savant, as the French would say, picking up Indian talk with little effort. I traveled through the piney woods that would later become East Texas, across the rolling prairies of what is now Central Texas, and then up and over across the Great Plains themselves before coming to this corner of what would become New Mexico. I had a comely lad from childhood, with hair like straw, eyes the color of blue berries, and a clear complexion that was pale as snow in winter and brown as tobacco leaf in summer. By the time I joined General Jackson I was an impressive physical specimen, taller than most men and built like a lumberjack or a blacksmith, with shoulders like an ox and arms and thews the likes of which my comrades had never seen. And much as I enjoyed the company of my mothers and sisters and women of all ages, it was men – especially big, strong men – who had attracted my gaze for as long as I could remember. Leaving what was called civilization seemed like no great loss to me, since it was clear that men like me and tastes like mine would never be accepted, that I would always need to hide my true affections behind polite fictions and closed doors. Traveling among the native peoples I learned that what I had been taught was unnatural was just another way of being, one they understood and accepted. And I was more than accepted, not just for my size and strength, which continued to increase by leaps and bounds, but for my heart and soul as well. During all my traveling, I felt that I was being called and when I reached these desert mountains, I knew I was almost home. I followed the trail the two of you followed, I found the waterfall and the entrance to the cavern, and even though I was incredibly tall and wide and strong by the standards of the day I was no more than half as big as you are, Eric. And here, sitting where I am sitting, I found him. He was 10 feet tall and 10 feet wide, his enormous musculature appeared to be carved from granite. But then I saw his giant prong twitch, the corners of his mouth twitched, and his eyes flew open. Even in New England I had heard of the Aztecs of Ancient Mexico and I thought surely this must be an Aztec God, or the reincarnation of Cuauhtemoc, the last Aztec Emperor. “Nay,” the Giant spoke. He pitched his voice at a whisper but still I was driven to my knees. “Yes, I am Aztec,” the Giant said, projecting his voice directly into my mind. “I knew Moctezuma and Cuauhtemoc but I am not they and for all that’s holy you dare not speak the Name of the Feathered One.” Stout American and republican that I was, I knelt before him, head bowed, as one does before a Prince or a God, knowing that I would worship him until the end of my days, if allowed to do so. “Rise, Hezekiah,” his mind voice intoned. “I am Tzuxaloat, last of the Aztecs, the Old Man of the Mountain.” Then he stood before me and showed me what manhood could be, in ways my fevered brain had never imagined. “But why have you brought me here?” He sighed, a wind that gusted through the cavern as a hurricane blows through the Caribe. “It is time for me to ascend,” he said. “And time for you to take my place.” +++ The Conclusion can be found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/15411-come-to-me-conclusion/
  14. ravenweremuscle

    Where have you done it?

    I think the real question should be, "How many people are lying about where they have sex?" These numbers are probably lower than they should be.
  15. TinyLoverofMacroGigaGiants

    Hello world!

    Hey BIG guys ! I am fan of hyper mega/giga growth too. Not a giant myslef but definitly a fan when guys grow endlessly bigger and bigger and BIGGER !!
  16. acd889

    Weight Gain and Weight Loss

    Thanks for posting, this is a great read and it takes courage to share detail like that. I'm 46 and have only really had any muscle on me for a couple years, and can't help but wonder where I'd be if I'd gotten more serious about it before turning 40 (...before turning 30? 25?). Point being - you're absolutely right, it's never too late. If you have decent health care, I can't recommend enough that you verify your endocrine system is in balance (pituitary, thyroid, adrenals, testicles/testosterone). From what I've seen personally and via endless forum surfing, you will waste a lot of energy chasing your goals if glandular imbalances are left unaddressed. Good luck!
  17. CardiMuscleman

    Where have you done it?

    YouGov, an online polling company, has unleashed an absolute can of worms today by publishing a poll which asked the question "In which room have you had sex?" and "Where did you have sex?" and the answers have raised eyebrows all around. For instance whilst 85% of people who answered said, entirely naturally, "I have had sex in my bedroom", 48% admitted to having it in the bathroom, 21% in the garden, and 8% in the laundry room, but the real illumination came when they asked "Where" 85% said the bed, which sounds reasonable and 70% (who presumably could not wait any longer) said the floor, but what were the 47% of people who had it in the shower, 25% who had it on the kitchen counter, 15% who had it on a desk and 5% who had it on a washing machine thinking? The full poll's details can be found at https://yougov.co.uk/news/2018/07/19/yougov-reveals-where-around-house-brits-have-had-s/?utm_source=twitter&utm_medium=website_article&utm_campaign=sex_house
  18. Weight Gain and Weight Loss: How did you gain it? and what did you have to do to lose it? Hi Everyone! I created this topic so that I could tell you all a little bit about my past issues with weight gain and weight loss, or at least what ones I did have at one point in my life, despite the fact that I've always been a very skinny guy and never gained alot of weight and could eat anything I wanted. Some of that is still true today. At almost 40 years old, I'm still considered in good shape, but I have a long way to go to look like any muscle studs here who are in transformation already. Now, I"ll start with my story. Back in 2006, My grandmother fell at a local supermarket when the sliding door hit her and she lost her footing and feel forward, bumping her head on the hard floor. Since then, she'd had a black and blue leg as well, even though nothing was broken, she had the ugly brusing effect from it. At that time, I was struggling to find a full time job and I'd hated the one I had as a custodial associate. My asthma was in full force at that time and severe enough that it limited my ability to exercise. Anything strenuous, would give me exercise-induced bronchospasms, so I couldn't even jog or run if I wanted to to stay fit. I won't go into much detail, but I sacrificed about 6 years of my life with no job, and no freedom to take care of my grandmother, who gradually grew worse and worse, and eventually it took it's toll on me, both physically and emotionally. Although she was never diagnosed, She had all the symptoms of Parkinson's Disease, and later she developed breast cancer and diabetes, which we didn't know until around 2008. We didn't know she became a diabetic until 2010 when she went into the hospital. Anyway, during the time leading up to 2010, her condition deteriorated, as well as my own health and emotional stability. I was slowly turning into someone I didn't recognize. Since sometimes my grandma wouldn't always eat everything I prepared because of a stomach problem she had, I usually had to eat all the leftovers. After a while, I was eating whole pizzas in one sitting 3 to 4 times a week, and we all know pizza is one of the worst things you can put into your body, regardless of how much I love pizza, personally. Plus, sometimes I was getting up at 2:OO am in the morning to feed her when she'd wake up hungry, so I wasn't sleeping well. Eventually I started to get very hostile and agitated very easily. My weight up until October 2010 has ballooned up to 238lbs, which is the most I've ever weighed in my life. Having no money, no car, and no real escape from the duties of caring for her, all I had was the internet. My aunt was supplying us with all of the food from the store since she had control of grandma's finances. So getting up to 238 lbs, still looking tall and thin, except for a huge looking gut that made me look like I was ready to give birth to a child, was a result of eating too much pizza and junk food, as well as drinking lots of soda, which I've been drinking since childhood, and lack of exercise. It was so bad that I couldn't even see my dick when I would stand in front of the toilet to pee. Plus, when I had to lay on my back just to get my sock and shoes on my feet, that's when I said to myself "Ok, this things has to go, and fast!" So, having put the weight on, I was determined to take it back off, since by this time, not only was my cholesterol over 200, I'd also developed GERD (Gastral-Espohageal Reflux Disease) from my unhealthy emotional eating habits, consuming all that pizza, like I was doing. So one day, I looked into the big chest freezer we had at the time and saw one last box of DiGiourno Pizza in it, I said to myself. "I am not touching that pizza for at least a month!" So, I aimed to stick to what I said. After that, I would start eating those Tyson Grilled Chicken Strips that you just have to heat and eat in the skillet since they're fulling cooked, along with some green beans with some butter, garlic powder and onion powder with a splash of soy sauce. That's all I would eat for awhile, until I switched from groundchuck beef to sirloin patties since they are less greasy. And having no money or a car to go anywhere, the only exercise I could do was walking laps around the backyard. I picked a tree uphill and one downhill to walk to and back from and I repeated that for 20 minutes a day, whenever I could, while grandma was resting. I would take the baby monitor outside with me so I could hear her when she called and go back into the house. Just by changing my eating habits alone, and doing the walking laps, I came down from 238 to 217 on my own. By 2012, my grandma was in a nursing home by this time, and I was in the middle of a move with my mom to a new house, as well as starting a new job in February, I was down to 204lbs. In my first two month of my new jobs, I dropped another 20 lbs from the hard work and physical labor, which brought me back down to about 184lbs. And since then, I haven't gone back up above 200 since then. I worked as a machine operator for the first 5 years of my job. At one point my weight went down to 175, which I hadn't been since my high school years. Then it went down to 165, which I thought was a bit too much, which baffled me because by this time, I wasn't even trying to lose weight anymore. Once it dropped down to 155, I started to become worried and wondered if something was wrong with me. But as fast as the problem started, it vanished and my weight went back up again. Running machines for 12 hours a day, 3 to 4 days a week, plus any overtime, eventually started taking it's toll on my body. Now, today, I'm at 193lbs, last time I checked my weight, and my cholesterol is 173. Although I'm proud of what I"ve accomplished, I'm still not quite happy yet with my body. I think I look alright, but feel I can look better. I wan't to be in the best shape of my life by the time I hit the big 4 0, which will be December 3rd of this year. If not by then, at least I intend to be more muscular and in fitness model shape in my 40s at least. I"m always told that it's not too late to get fit and I hope that everyone who says that is right. Now, I need to prove that for myself. Feel free to share any stories you all have about weight gain and weight loss and what you did to achieve your goals. if you wanted to gain weight, what all you did to get there, and if you wanted to lose weight, what did you have to do to get to where you wanted to be?
  19. Thanks for the follow mate 

  20. Shawn1978

    Last time you felt another guy's pecs/chest?

    Well, the last time I felt another guys pecs was a younger guy I worked with. He wasn't a built muscular guy, but had nice natural muscle to him. He didn't look like he had much of a chest, but then he told me, punch my chest and see how hard it is. I did and was flabbergasted at how hard his pecs were, for someone who only does natural ways of building muscle. He doesn't use weights, just body weight exercises and he's very good at Ninjitsu. He personally finds the bodybuilder look disgusting. I don't share his opinion though. but the last time I felt a bodybuilder's pecs was back in 2012 when I muscle worshipped a bodybuilder for the first time ever. It was a great experience. One I will never forget.
  21. Same concept as other thread, let me know!
  22. Last week
  23. neuheimeer


    I might be working in the series as my first tribute to you!
  24. Absman420

    Priapus Pictures

    How I'm loving the development of this story, a wonderful new vein from my "WHY YOU SHOULDN'T TRUST SAUL BENNETT". I want to thank you for being so respectful of my work in your approach to this piece. I'm anxious to see where it goes!
  25. WHY YOU SHOULDN’T TRUST SAUL BENNETT By absman420 “I’m home!!!!” “Tino!’ called the bigger man, opening his arms and smiling wide. The little bodybuilder jumped into his embrace.. “Daddy!” he called his husband, lovingly. They kissed -- and the bigger man could already feel the little bodybuilder’s erection pressing into him. “I’ve missed you so much!” “You’ve only been gone a week, boy.” They kissed anyway. “I know,” little Tino said. “I wanna fuck so bad.” The bigger man smiled coyly. “Horny little Tino,” he said, rubbing the back of his husband’s head while he squeezed his ass. “You wanna fuck first, or get settled?” Tino pulled away from the kissing, looking his man in the face. “Fuck,” he said, smiling. “I want to fuck. But I want to give you your present first.” The bigger man flicked his eyebrows. “Something kinky, I hope?” he asked. “You got another hot boy stashed in your bag?” “Ha!” the little bodybuilder said. “I’m sharing you with no one today. I need that big porn-star cock all to myself!” He broke their hug after a quick peck on the lips and turned to his bags. “Let’s take this to the bedroom.” For New York, for the Upper West Side, it was a spacious apartment, but Tino missed LA -- he missed the weather and his friends -- and he secretly wondered how long his hubby would keep them secluded here? They hadn’t had to move to the other side of the country because his husband didn’t want to be a porn star anymore. No matter where they went, his man was always gonna be Big Mick Masterman, whose dick was legend. Nearly eleven inches when completely hard -- Big Mick would joke about feeling light-headed when it was at its max -- his dick was so large, it would’ve looked out-of-proportion if Mick hadn’t been so big himself. Not a bodybuilder like Tino -- all cuts and aesthetics and shiny hardness -- Mick was a beast of a man, thick and strong and exuding the cocky power of the well-hung Alpha. Was he past his prime? Probably by just a hair, depending on what you considered “prime”. He’d done hundreds of movies, thousands of scenes, countless guest appearances, but no matter how good it’s been, biology is biology -- once your dick stops working, you don’t work in porn. Nobody wants a limp-dicked daddy. And Big Mick Masterman was no bottom. Since turning 50, his dick stopped behaving for him the way it did twenty years ago, when even testosterone on the breeze would get him hard. In truth, it wasn’t just his dick, his whole body was betraying him, turning into an old man right in front of him -- sagging, softening -- but for a man who’d built a whole career out of his amazing dong, Big Mick’s focus was always his cock. Once Tino dug out the little box he’d buried in his suitcase, he found Big Mick prepping the Tri-Mix vial he’d gotten out of the fridge. Tino smiled -- he’d be glad when Mick got rid of that shit. Injecting your cock to get hard….? Tino thought. Yuck! “So tell me about LA,” Mick said, pulling an insulin syringe from the drawer, using it to point to Tino’s box. “Is that my present?” “Hold your horses,” Tino said, putting the small cardboard box on the opposite counter. “I have a story.” Mick smiled slightly. “Of course you do.” Tino pursed his lips at the bigger man. He took a big breath and said, as if confessing, “So… while I was out there, I ran into Saul Bennett...” “Oh, Jesus,” Mick groaned, dropping the insulin syringe on the counter. “You wanna kill ANY chance of me getting hard, right?” “Stop it,” Tino chided. “It was a nice conversation. It wasn’t an easy decision for him…” But Big Mick was already annoyed. “Oh, come on, Tino!” he said, a touch of anger. “He cancelled my contract. I was one of the biggest names in the fucking business and he cancelled my contract because I had ED. I mean, what the fuck? He fuckin’ ruined my career, Tino!” Tino was still calm. “He feels really bad, Mick.” “Yeah, I bet! Do you know how much money he fucking lost when he cut me? Let me tell you something: Saul doesn’t feel bad because of what he did to my self-esteem, or my reputation, or my fucking life! He feels bad because he lost revenue. Saul Bennett gives a shit about nothing but money, Tino. I thought you knew that.” Tino sighed. “I’m sorry I brought it up. I should’ve just given this to you without explanation.” He handed the small, cardboard box to Big Mick, who took it humorlessly. “This is from Saul?” Mick asked. “He feels really bad, Mick.” There was a moment when Tino was unsure if Mick would throw it, crush it, or open it -- frankly, there was a moment when Mick was unsure, too -- ultimately, Mick tore the little sticker keeping the lid closed and opened it up. Two little vials held by styrofoam cushioning, one contained pink liquid, the other blue. “What is it?” Mick asked. Tino had a devious smile. “It’s a little something-something so you won’t need THAT,” he said, pointing to the Tri-Mix and the syringe. “Mixed by one of Saul’s little… alchemist friends. Apparently, it’s the latest thing to keep porn-stars on the working roster.” Mick looked at him suspiciously. “Really?” he asked, softening. Tino shrugged. “No harm in trying.” Mick looked at the box and considered it for all of five seconds -- even his anger at Saul paled next to his desire for a good erection. “So what do I do?” Smiling, Tino stepped over to him and pulled the vials from the box. He handed the blue one to Mick. “One for you,” he said, keeping the pink one, “and one for me.” “Really?” Mick chuckled. “Blue and pink?” Tino smiled, pursing his lips at Mick. “Wanna trade?” he asked. “Why? Will the pink one turn me into a girl?” “Haha,” Tino said. “No, the pink one is gonna make me able to take what the blue one is gonna do to you!” He unscrewed the cap and quickly drank his down, making a face at the taste. “He said it takes about twenty minutes to hit -- i’m gonna clean up real quick. Cum join me when you’re ready.” And with that, Tino slunk to the bathroom. Big Mick couldn’t help but look at Tino’s muscular ass as the boy exited, He was lucky Tino’d stayed with him through the whole ED thing -- a hot number like him could have anybody. The least Mick could do was indulge a trial solution -- no matter that it had been provided by fucking Saul Bennett. With that, he unscrewed the cap and drank the contents of the vial -- no taste, maybe it was a placebo. Following Tino to the bedroom, he kept the Tri-Mix handy, He was already horny -- Tino had been gone a whole week, after all, and Big Mick wasn’t a big masturbator. It took a lot of work to get an eleven-inch cock hard -- it took even more lately -- he didn’t like to waste it on nothing. Stripping his shirt off, he could hear Tino in the shower, so he knew he had enough time to get his cockring and jockstrap on. Looking at his bulky self in the mirror, he flexed a most-muscular and pinched the barbells in his pierced nipples. Whoa! -- okay, THAT was electric -- a freaking WAVE of horny washing over him. Damn, even his dick was coming to life. He stripped off his jeans and his boxer briefs and stretched a hard rubber cockring around his juicy balls -- it was difficult enough to get his huge dick through the ring when it was soft, but it was thickening up fast, further delighting Mick, though he clumsily succeeded. His dick hung there at a slight angle, looking untroubled and confident. Maybe he wasn’t in the best shape anymore, but damn if his dick didn’t make up for it. He slipped on his NASTY PIG quilted leather jock, which made him look even bigger. Flopping in the big leather recliner across from the bed, he continued playing with his nipples as he waited for Tino. It wasn’t long before he heard the shower turn off. Just in time, as far as Mick was concerned -- he was getting damn horny -- frankly, he was starting not to care if the boy was clean at all. Mick was ready for some action. And he was starting to feel confident that his dick was ready, too. Tino slipped into the room, shiny and smooth, a tiny towel wrapped around his tiny hips. Usually short bodybuilders had thick waists, but Tino’s was so small and lean that it made his ass look gigantic by comparison -- when he was in a playful mood, he joked that he should become an underwear model or a professional stripper. Slyly smiling, he stood before Big Mick’s chair and posed for him, flexing his beautiful body. “Daddy want a lap dance?” he asked, hips swaying. Tino stepped up into the leather recliner, feet on either side of Mick’s hips -- the chair was sturdy enough, they’d proved it before -- the little towel he wore around his waist fell away, revealing the soft white thong he wore beneath, his cute little balls bouncing with each thrust. “Very nice, boy,” Big Mick mumbled, stroking the boy’s rock hard quads. “Lemme see that ass.” The boy turned to imaginary music, dancing like his hips were doing the seduction. For such massive legs, his ass was still round and tight, like he was still the college wrestler he’d been when the two had met, so many years ago. Tino squatted slightly and twerked in Mick’s face, shaking his muscular glutes, the strap of his thong visible as it ran down the crack of his ass. It was beautiful. Mick reached between Tino’s legs and grabbed the boy’s package, like his hand was a cockring -- he shoved his face between the halves of Tino’s ass, immediately tasting the boy’s hot hole -- clean, but with a slight hint of soap. Tino moaned immediately. “Yeah, big daddy,” he growled as Mick shoved his tongue in. God damn that man loved ass. His rough facial hair teased Tino’s hole. Mick didn’t realize how horny he was. Fuck, he wanted this boy -- wanted to dominate him and own him. He felt like a fucking teenager who’d never tasted a man before. The strap from the thong was getting in his way, but he could feel Tino’s cock getting hard in the pouch -- why couldn’t the boy like jockstraps, like normal people? So much easier to eat his ass. He looked good in anything -- or out of anything. Big Mick’s big dick thickened in his own pouch. He took his free hand off his nipple and reached down to help himself along. His cock filled his hand and was growing fast. He would’ve commented about it if his mouth hadn’t been full -- and if he hadn’t been so damn horny. “Fuck, boy,” he said, licking Tino’s hole, “suck my cock. I need your hot mouth.” “Oh yeah, Daddy,” he moaned, stepping down from the chair, kneeling his big bod between Mick’s outstretched legs. When the little bodybuilder saw Mick’s half-hard cock, growing there in Mick’s grip, he happily replaced Mick’s hand with his, and smiled slyly as he took the bigger man’s cock in his mouth. Warm and wet -- what a mouth -- Mick could feel himself hardening. He rolled his head back and shut his eyes, enjoying the sensation of his growing erection -- his hard-on was delighting him almost as much as the blow job. Was this the effects of Saul Bennett’s little potion? He couldn’t even get mad at Saul, the mother-fucker, that’s how good he felt -- like a man. Like a fucking man. Like a fucking man who hadn’t shot his fucking load in a week. His balls felt as full as his cock. He felt Tino’s hands holding them and tickling the back of his sac -- even his balls felt bigger. Huge fucking load. Suddenly, he realized his cock was rock hard -- a teen-aged erection -- a throbbing, needful, helpless kind of erection. Familiar and nearly forgotten -- an old friend found alive -- and with it came confidence, a confidence Mick had almost forgotten, as if it were even bigger -- if that were possible for a nearly-eleven-inch cock -- or had it been that long that it had BEEN this hard? He had to fuck. God damn, he had to fuck. He had to take this rock-hard cock and fuck with it. So fucking horny. He stood then, causing Tino to lose his balance and fall back on his butt. Mick grabbed him by the back of the neck and pushed the little bodybuilder toward the bed. Tino allowed himself to be taken, loving the confidence his husband exuded -- it was like the old days. On his back, his legs open, he could feel Mick’s cock press against his hole -- throbbing, alive, it wasn’t the product of injectable tri-mix, it was a genuine, sexually-stimulated erection, and it was eager to make up for lost time. The cock may have even felt bigger as it entered Tino’s ass, or maybe it had been so long that Tino had forgotten the full extent of Big Mick Masterman -- he was glad for the reminder. Mick didn’t waste any time. Standing beside the bed, he sank balls-deep in Tino’s hole, putting the entirety of his eleven-inch cock into the little bodybuilder in a single thrust.. Tino gasped. “Holy shit, a little warm up…” But Mick ignored him. He was muttering, “Need this so bad, fuck,” as he slowly withdrew his meat, then slammed it home again. “Fuck…” “Damn, honey....” But if Mick was listening, Tino couldn’t tell -- his eyes were kind of far-away, his mouth slightly open, a corner turned up in pleasure. Mick was lost in that pleasure, the resurgence of his alpha station. It was like the old days, back in his twenties, when the world was one big hole and Mick ached to fuck it hard -- not like it had been for the last year when life was fucking him. He fucked Tino like he’d suddenly remembered how to -- he was a battering ram. He was a porn star again. It didn’t surprise either of them that he’d orgasmed as quickly as he did -- not that that really slowed him down. He barely missed a beat and kept on pounding toward number two, using his cum as lube -- it leaked out of Tino’s hole. Tino would pass out around the fifth, so he wasn’t sure where it ended -- all he knew was that hours later when he lost consciousness (from exhaustion), Big Mick was still fucking him. What the hell had Saul Bennett given him? ******************************************************* Tino woke to the light of dawn, a beam of sunshine across his face. He was on his side, spooned by Mick -- and the first thing he realized was that Mick was still inside him, that huge cock still hard, filling him past the point of comfort. Even in his sleep, Mick gently thrust in and out, like he was dreaming of a fuck. Tino was afraid to wake him. The relentless, non-stop pounding Mick had given his ass last night was enough -- he couldn’t imagine it starting again. Slowly, gently, Tino slid off Mick’s cock, his hole so defeated that there wasn’t even a “pop” when the gargantuan head came out. Mick’s cock had felt huge inside him -- bigger than Tino had remembered it, even when last it had been fully hard, years ago before last night. As Tino quietly sat up on the edge of the bed, the movement seemed to disturb Mick -- his breathing changed slightly. They’d been together long enough that Tino knew even the most subtle change in Mick when asleep. He waited a moment until he heard Mick sink back deeply, then he stood, waiting to see if that changed anything, then he took a step and turned around, just enough to glance at his man. The first thing to catch his eye was Mick’s cock -- how could it not? -- it was gigantic! Truly gigantic, as the head of it slapped the very bottom of his abs with every dreamy thrust Mick took, leaving a little trail of cum between the slit and his core. Mick’s cock had never been THIS big -- not even in his prime! Mick’s cock measured out at just over 11-inches when fully hard, formidable on its own -- the cock he had now was well over a foot long, possibly as long as fourteen inches… and substantially thicker. How on earth could Tino have taken that? It wasn’t just the cock, though the cock held his attention -- that cock would hold ANY man’s attention, gay or straight -- it was beyond possible. The stuff of fantasy. But it wasn’t just his cock -- no, it was his balls, too. Tino had never seen balls so big on any man, except maybe those guys who have injections, or implants or whatever. Because of his heavy steroid cycles, Mick’s gonads had all but atrophied, shrunken well smaller than average -- he joked that it made his cock look bigger by comparison. The balls he had now were easily in proportion with his over-sized cock, easily as big as lemons, maybe avocados. The weight of them gently pulled on the base of that big dick, causing it to pulse even more. And then Tino widened his focus and saw Mick in his entirety. It wasn’t just his cock and his balls -- it was all of him! Mick was… Mick was… Mick was massive. Diesel. Tino had been the bodybuilder -- Tino had been the competitor -- Mick was the proud daddy who watched from the side, proud of his boy, but not looking for the attention himself. He had his own audience, and he didn’t think the two should mix. Mick had loved being a porn-star -- and he joked that he had a better build for that, anyway. (Imagine Mick’s dick in posers!) Mick had always had a bulky, muscular thing going on, big and thick, but not ripped -- no perfect abs for Big Mick Masterman. No need. Though to Tino’s disappointment, Mick had been going soft lately. THIS Mick, the Mick in their bed, was a very different man. This Mick was a bodybuilder -- this Mick could’ve just stepped off the competition stage -- this Mick was muscular and ripped, heavily-veined and pumped. The only thing ruining the illusion was the body hair -- Mick had always been hirsute (his back alone kept his waxer employed full-time) -- but this morning, Mick was covered with a layer of rough, short hair -- his shoulders, his arms, everything. The stubble on his face was heavy, like he could grow a beard in a day. Was his brow a little thicker, as well? He looked like he’d overdosed on testosterone, like he was tripping on some crazy hormone sauce… Saul! THAT SHIT SAUL HAD GIVEN THEM! Is that what had done this? It HAD to have been! Horrified, Tino quickly waddled his way to the bathroom, grabbing his phone off the dresser on the way past. The first thing he did was examine himself in the mirror -- if Saul’s formula had done that to Mick, what had the stuff he’d taken done to HIM? And the answer was… nothing that he could see. What had Saul said? He’d said the pink vial would make Tino able to take what the blue vial would do to Mick. The horror of that sunk in, which caused him to relax just enough that the cum that had been inside him started to leak down his muscular thigh. Fuck... Sitting on the toilet, easily a gallon of Mick’s cum rushed out of him, wetly filling the bowl with its salty scent. Why wasn’t he sore? Exhausted, yes, but not sore. What had that shit done? He said, “Call Saul Bennett” into his phone, quietly, though he was pretty sure Mick couldn’t hear him with the bathroom door closed. It took the phone a few seconds to connect -- longer for Saul to pick up. “It’s five o’clock in the morning, Tino,” Bennett mumbled from his end. “Why the fuck you calling me at five o’clock in the fucking morning?” “What was in that stuff, Saul?” Tino said, angrily. “What the fuck did you give him?” A sleepy laugh over the line, an evil chuckle. “I guess you guys used my gift,” he said. “What’d you think, Tino? Bet you haven’t got nailed like that in a while.” “Fuck you, Saul.” Saul laughed. “I think you got all the fucking, Tino. How’d you get away from him long enough to call me? He’s not fucking anybody else right now, is he?” “No!” Tino said in a whisper louder than he’d wanted. “He passed out sometime during the night and I’m sitting here in the bathroom emptying myself out! What the fuck, Saul?” “Okay. You definitely don’t want him fucking anybody else.” “Yeah, I’ll try to stop him. You should see him, Saul! He’s fucking HUGE! Did you know that would happen, Saul? Did you know? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” “I’m telling you now, don’t let him fuck anybody else.” Tino sighed (and the final bit of cum dripped out of him). “Why don’t you want him fucking anybody else? Why do you keep saying that, Saul? What aren’t you telling me?” There was a slight pause on the other end of the phone that Tino was about ready to interrupt when Saul spoke. “Let’s just say… the stuff I gave him? Well… it’s communicable.” “What?” “It means other people can catch it…” “I know what ‘communicable’ means, Saul,” Tino sighed again, his patience nearly gone. “What did you fucking give him?” Saul chuckled again -- the bastard. He said, “I’m giving him his career back, Tino.” A beat of silence where Tino didn’t respond, so Saul continued. “Tino, what the fuck good is a total top who can’t get hard -- can’t even get hard with an injectable, you know? I mean, he totally fucked his own head! I had to give him some time off.” “‘Time off’,” Tino mocked. “You know that ‘time off’ fucking destroyed him, right? You act like it was some kind of sabbatical and you were going to welcome him back! He was done -- except for a few guest appearances, his career was all but over! Once word got out that he was given some ‘time off’ because of ED, nobody would even ‘like’ his social-media posts!” Saul Bennett sighed. “Look… I’m sorry for that. It took my guys at the lab longer to come up with a solution that I thought. But here we are, Tino! And if I understand you correctly, the problem’s solved, right? Big Mick Masterman gets a triumphant return AND a major series! It’s gonna be awesome! I got HUGE plans for Mick, Tino -- we’re gonna make a fucking fortune!” Tino sighed again, more impatiently than before. “What did you fucking do to him, Saul?” “Turned him back into a top,” Saul said, matter-of-factly. “Cranked up the hormones and turned him into a hyper-masculine super-stud. How big is he, Tino? I bet he’s fucking huge!” “This is crazy,” Tino said to himself. As he stood, he realized he hadn’t cleaned himself up completely -- Big Mick’s cum still ran down his leg. He grabbed a hand-towel and started wiping himself. He wanted to hop in the shower, but he didn’t dare wake Mick -- not until he knew what was going on. “And what did you mean when you said he was communicable?” There was a pause, again long enough that Tino almost repeated himself, when Saul confessed, “So there’s a… side effect of the compound. If he fucks somebody who hasn’t had the antidote, they… also transform into a hyper-masculine super-top, just like him. Think of it, Tino,” Saul continued, and Tino swore he was drooling, “It’s a series. Big Mick fucks some fem little twink and transforms him into another out-of-control, unstoppable muscle-top -- then we follow the fun as they transform all the major bottom boys from all the other major studios. I’m calling it ‘Fuck Zombies -- The Series!’ It’s gonna be huge, Tino -- HUGE!” Tino was nearly speechless. “But he fucked ME,” he whispered. “Why didn’t that happen to me?” A small snort. “Cause you took the antidote, Tino. I told you, the pink vial made you able to take anything the blue vial did to your husband. It’s not just that you can’t catch the virus,” Saul explained, “but physically, it made you able to take the pounding one of these guys can give you and not get your ass torn apart. You’re my Ace in the Hole, Tino -- so to speak.” “You’re crazy…” Saul Bennett’s chuckle was nothing short of evil -- super-villain evil -- he was fucking PROUD of what he’d done! “Here’s what’s gonna happen, Tino,” he said, in a patronizing tone he hadn’t had before, “I need you to get him to me here in LA -- that’s your job. Well, your job is REALLY to get him here without him fucking anybody along the way. We wouldn’t want a pandemic to start, would we? You get him to me, we film this series -- ten films, twelve on the outside -- and then I’ll release him to you, good as new!” Tino was horrified. He stood, shouting, “You monster!” into the phone. “You fucking MONSTER!” And then he heard a sound from the bedroom -- fuck, he’d been too loud! He’d woken Mick. “Oh, fuck!” he whispered. “What’s going on, Tino?” “I woke him up.” A sound then, from the bedroom. “Fu-u-u-u-uck…” -- a moan -- “Fuck YEAH!” “Oh, fuck,” Tino said, panicking. “What do I do? What do I do?” Saul said, “Turn the camera on, for fuck’s sake. I wanna see this!” Tino could hear Mick in the bedroom, trudging around, his breathing heavy, his voice rough. “Fuck yes! Oh… oh, fuck… Fuck YEAH!!!!” And then the unmistakable sounds of Mick having an orgasm -- it went on and on, as Tino’s panic-level rose. And then he was pounding on the bathroom door, a dull, repetitive thud. Tino got the camera on just as Mick broke the door down, so he and Saul saw the same thing. Big Mick stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the morning light behind him, his new mass making him even bigger than Tino expected -- he was truly a monster, a diesel freak. Muscular, hairy, radiating power -- and then the unbelievable cock that stood there, rock hard, dripping freely, throbbing along with Mick’s heartbeat. A muscle-morph made real. Tino’s first thought upon seeing Mick’s cock? “I’m able to TAKE that?” Saul’s first thought upon seeing Mick’s cock? Very different -- he saw dollar signs. He began to record the call. Mick made eye-contact with Tino and growled -- he grabbed his dick -- slowly, a predator, he advanced. “Fuck,” he muttered, crazed, incapable of rational thought. “Gotta fuck…” Tino held his hands in front of him (giving Saul a front row seat). “Mick,” Tino pleaded. “Mick, please... listen to me…” And then Mick charged, causing Tino to drop the phone as he protected himself. The phone clattered to the floor and flipped -- and Saul ended up with an up-shot of the action, seeing the whole scene from below. It wasn’t the worst porn-angle in the world. Mick threw Tino over the counter and just started fucking him -- using his own cum as lube, he somehow managed to push his freakish thing into Tino’s over-worked hole. Flexing for himself in the mirror above the sink while he fucked, turned-on by his own incredible physique, he drooled like an animal. Tino had little choice but to take it -- even with Tino’s impressive size, he was no match for the monster his husband had become. All he could do was take it -- fortunately, Saul Bennett had made him able to take it. Mick’s cock was SO big… he hated that he liked it so much. “Saul?” Tino called as Mick ravaged him, between Mick’s powerful thrusts. “Saul, are you still there?” Mick suddenly fucked him harder, angrily. “Fuck Saul…” the beast muttered. From the floor, he could hear Saul’s voice. “I’m here, Tino -- he’s spectacular! You gotta get him to me, Tino. That’s’ all you gotta do. Get him to me. Now, lift your leg a little, you’re blocking my view of his cock.” How the fuck was Tino supposed to get Mick all the way across country to LA? It was impossible. Mick began long-dicking his hole, pulling his fourteen-inch shaft nearly all the way out before slamming it all the way back in to the root. Over and over again -- Tino was nearly delirious, ecstacy and horror mixed together. Fuck. Fuck you, Saul Bennett, he thought, while being fucked. How the fuck am I gonna do this? Between orgasms, Tino started to plot. AUTHOR’S AFTERWORD: Hey, all -- absman420 here again! Feels like a cliff-hanger, doesn’t it? I mean, there’s easily a chapter (maybe two) in Tino getting Big Mick to LA -- plane? Train? Auto? -- and then, there’s as many chapters as one could imagine as Mick turns industry twink bottoms to Fuck Zombie Super-Tops before Tino does (or doesn’t) get Saul to keep his deal and release Mick from his “contract” (haha) Could be quite a series. One I don’t want to write. That said, if anybody DOES want to contribute a chapter, please feel free to add one on! I’m very cool with the IDEA of this being a series, I just don’t have the time to do it justice myself. I only ask that you reference this story -- and me -- when you submit something. Otherwise, go to town! Tattcub has already written a story thread and posted it on this forum ("Priapus Pictures") and he inspired me to write a chapter myself (the upcoming "Twink Number Twelve").
  26. neuheimeer

    Mikey The Human Muscle Morph

    Charlie's Secret and Have you seen muy posing trunks
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