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  1. 57 points
    The first time it happened my addiction to the way growth made me feel was instantaneous and would clearly be lifelong. If I sat sill – completely still – and focused I could actually sense my cells doubling at the same time the nipple-popping, ball-tightening, skin-warming sensation enveloped my body and sent me to a place where the only thing that mattered was feeling this good and growing. It felt like a thousand warm, wet pairs of lips were massaging my entire being with soft, juicy kisses. It certainly helped that each growth spurt – excuse the pun – ended in orgasm, but the feeling that came as I grew bigger was actually much more enjoyable than the happy ending. Hugeness was what it was all about. Because I was so focused – so entranced with the changes – that first time I actually noticed some dark hairs sprouting up and down my forearm while layers of tissue under my outer skin bubbled and moved around to make room for what my body was producing so quickly. I could sense that the new tissue – the so-called layers of skin – which were being formed were much more dense, more packed than what existed before. My body was simply getting a strong protective armor for the muscle that was molding itself bigger as it grew below. I knew, instinctively, that all the blissful feelings I was encountering somehow originated from muscle mass multiplying on top of itself and hardening into something that would later be used to do amazing things. This was what bodybuilders obviously felt on some slighter level during the intense pump of a workout. They said endorphins were sent to the brain to let it know how great all of this felt and I think my endorphins were working on overload, because my brain only wanted more. I watched with awe as my forearm became ever so slightly bigger and more chiseled. It wasn’t the mind-blowing expansion of Hulk films, but it was enough for me to notice. It was enough for me to want more . . . much more. When the rumbling beneath my skin stopped I swear I felt heavier. It was the wildest sensation – knowing you actually took up more space, even if it was very slight. As soon as my body had recovered – both from the growth and the end-of-the-change orgasm - and my mind returned fully to the living room of my apartment, I went to the bathroom to weigh myself, but passing the mirror made me immediately stop. Cum-inducing and model-level dark stubble had forced its way out across my cheeks, chin, and jawline. I reached up and scraped my fingers against the bristles of manly fur, which now framed my face. I also noticed that my face was thinner, my eyes a darker sky-blue, and my skin seemed to glow with healthiness that was almost otherworldly. Profanity is the only logical reaction to something so astounding. I stood there and let out a few expletives as I marveled at the changes – even if they were subtle – to my face. My hardening cock smacked up against the edge of the sink – that’s how turned on I was. It usually took me at least forty-five minutes to recover from an orgasm – and the one at the end of my growth in the other room had been super intense. It seemed, however, my improved body was quickly ready for round two. That day, at work, three different people asked if I had started going to the gym. Me! They asked the guy that didn’t break one hundred pounds until his senior year in high school. On closer thought, though, it didn’t seem so weird. I could seriously feel that my body stood more erect than the day before. I could also detect that there was some new scent or aura the pores of my body were emitting. The barista, who usually ignored me when I came into the coffee shop, actually smiled while I ordered. The guy that came in to service the copier at work kept stealing glances at me while I explained the problem. I could tell he was slightly flustered in a way that had him befuddled. There was something unknown that was rocking his world. I know this is crude, but I even noticed that when I peed the stream was much more forceful and lasted a lot longer. I swear it sounded like a large waterfall. On the second morning my reactions to the developments were even more intense than on the first day. My hands shook with anticipation as I waited. I forced myself to be patient and not let worries about the growth maybe not happening a second time enter my head. I calmed myself by meditating and that’s when the incredible feeling from the day before returned. This time, my fingers and toes radiated heat and the joys of those thousand kisses first. I stared at my hands and saw veins bulging as blood pumped through them harder than usual. I watched as my fingernails grew slightly – right there before my eyes. And then I started to get really turned on as I felt each finger thickening and extending further out on the coffee table. I could sense that the same thing was happening to my feet. The thought of someday growing out of my shoes thrilled me in a way that made it clear there was probably a hidden fetish lurking in my head. My attention was quickly stolen from my feet when I suddenly realized – simply from the intense pleasure-pain coming from that part of my body – my nipples were growing. I moved my fingertips to them immediately and the nubs were not only getting harder, they were pressing further out and resisting when I tried to push. They were like hot pokers shoving against burning logs. I pinched them hard, just to intensify the pleasure and you would have thought my heart would certainly give out from the jacked-up reaction within my entire body. I could also feel that my areolas were stretching out bigger underneath my nips. Cork-sized nipples supported by doorknob sized areolas was such a turn on for me, and I got the feeling someday looking at my own would make me spurt. While my hands went to town on my hardened plugs, they also began to feel thick spikes of hard hair pushing up across my chest. The gratification of sprouting fur was so intense I immediately wished I could be a werewolf and have this kind of pleasing growth all over my body. It was clear that my fingers were still thickening and at the same time my palm widened to match their size. As usual, the growth process ended with me arching my back as my cock spewed uncontrollably – showering my stomach and chest with thick cum. Today, I didn’t pause to clean myself off when I finished shooting. I jumped up and ran to the bathroom – letting out a loud, and shockingly deeper, yell when I saw that I now had a full Paul Bunyan-like thick beard, more intensely piercing blue eyes, and a golden hue to my skin that screamed of time spent out in nature. The matted fur on my chest was spectacular – perfectly manicured for my still-small frame, but giving a glimpse of what it would look like when it covered huge muscles. I brought my hand up to feel the thick hair and to scoop up some of the dense, white, powerful-looking spooge that globbed very masculine on my chest. I knew I had to taste it and I was rewarded with a healthy salty-sweet paste that screamed for the strongest Borolo wine available as a pairing. My mouth was the first thing to fully recognize the new size of my fingers. I still had my forefinger resting on my tongue and my lips closed around it as my teeth registered that this particular part of my body had intensified not only in size but also in appearance. When I held up my hand I almost shot another load – the thing did not look like it could belong to me. It wasn’t tremendously bigger, but I could easily tell where I was headed in the area of hand and finger width. Palming basketballs would soon not be a problem. That’s when I suddenly remembered what supposedly came with big hands. I reached down and wrapped my other big mitt around my hard cock – immediately shocked to find out my best friend of so many years had thickened as well. I looked down and stumbled back a little as I beheld a veiny, longer, and clearly more abundant tool than the day before. I also couldn’t help but noticing the thick curls of my dark pubic hair screaming out in some kind of testosterone-laden manliness. I grabbed my balls, marveling at how they had grown, too – sinking lower and dwarfing my old ones. Glancing down at my cock I also couldn’t help but notice my new feet – longer, hairier and thicker. How in the hell could feet look so damn virile? I was certainly going to still fit in my shoes, but barely and those bigger things were going to hurt like hell by mid-day. As I stared down below I suddenly realized I was subconsciously tensing my arms at my side – with bunched up fists and forearms ablaze with new striations. I didn’t even realize I was doing it. It just seemed like the right thing to do. And then I brought my arms up into a flawless double biceps pose. It’s not like I had morphed into some mega-huge bodybuilder. My guns were still pretty scrawny, but I could tell that the muscle underneath had gown harder and slightly thicker – as if preparing for what was to come. I began to imagine what my arms were going to look like one day and that’s when a second round of hot cum shot into the air and then rained down into the sink in front of me. On that day, my favorite barista smiled even broader as I walked in and when he handed me my coffee we both noticed my enhanced manly hand. He turned red when I looked up and caught him staring at it. I was surprised he didn’t even have to look at my name on the cup when my order was up. I had clearly begun to make a lasting impression. Later, at work, I broke two pencils just from gripping them too tightly with my new enhanced hands. It was obvious I needed to start getting used to my new body way before it truly grew. It was like I was being given time for many dress rehearsals before the actual big show. Later that day, my boss came into my office to review a presentation and while we were sitting there he started asking if the air conditioning was broken. I felt fine and a call to maintenance confirmed that everything was working okay, but he soon had to loosen his tie and undo a couple of buttons on his dress shirt. He kept saying it was like some kind of strong warmth was overpowering him. He kept taking deep breaths, like there was a aroma that pleased him. He also asked if I had started using one of those hand grippers to exercise because my forearms – highlighted by purposefully rolled up sleeves – looked bigger and my grip had seemed stronger when we shook hands. I assured him I did not own such a device. He shook his head in disbelief and suggested I get maintenance to look at the vents in my office because he really was light-headed. After he left, I just marveled at the changes to my body and what it was doing to other people. That evening, on my way home, I purchased some new dress shoes, which were a couple of sizes too big. I wanted to be prepared. Morning wood did not come close to describing the throbbing hard-on that greeted me when I awoke the next day. I was bloody thankful it was Saturday and I could stay naked as long as I wanted. I awoke looking forward to later on when the day’s changes would begin. I had come to realize that I should just go with the flow and not try to predict how I would evolve. It was best to just be present to whatever part of my body was being awakened into beast mode. I still wasn’t huge – but there was a developing self-awareness that caused an inner confidence that matched a big man. I wouldn’t have called it cocky – I certainly didn’t want to go and bully someone – but I would call it attentiveness to what was to come. I stood stronger, walked prouder, and spoke much more confidently than I ever had in my entire life - simply because of an inner knowledge of the fact that I was going to grow into someone that demanded respect just from their size . . . merely from their huge presence. That day, I lay down on the sofa to experience the enhancements. I closed my eyes and waited for whatever was coming be to begin, hoping I’d be fully cognizant of everything at the same time. My ass itched, so I raised my body off the sofa and scratched it. After lying back down it started to itch even more. I went to scratch it again, but then stopped – realizing this was today’s path. The feeling underneath intensified, but it quickly went from an itch to something awesome. I had never known so much delight could be felt in your butt cheeks. I knew of carnal delights, of course, which came from a nice pounding, but this was even better than that. I instantly knew my flat-as-hell ass was ballooning into one of those hard bubble butts that made people drool because they wanted to spank, kiss, or bounce quarters off of it. I could feel the entire lower and middle part of my body rising off the sofa as plates and plates of solid hard muscle reproduced itself on my backside. I slid my hands underneath and grabbed the cheeks, just to feel their growing size out-power my grip. Fingers were pressed out wider as baby clearly ‘got back’. In the midst of my butt joy came the knowledge that hair was sprouting up and down my legs, while thighs and calves were expanding. Oh, how I wanted to someday have legs so thick that my monstrous thighs made me waddle. I imagined myself with one of those ‘gotta prevent the chaffing’ walks because muscle was so ballooned it rubbed against each other, crackling loudly like leather. I knew today wasn’t the day for that, but I fully realized that I was adding some muscle mass under all that glorious thick hair growing up and down my wheels. I settled my mind and let it take me to other places. Suddenly, I could feel my upper back and shoulders broadening. I’d always had shoulders that drooped terribly and were narrower than hangers in the closet. I looked forward to one day having such width that I’d have to turn sideways to fit through doorways, when someone tried to pass me in grocery store aisles, or sharing a full seat with someone in small cars. My lats were spreading out, too – a specific muscle I didn’t even know I had until I saw pictures of musclemen who looked like they had giant wings when they did certain poses. I waited for the day when I would appear to be two people in a car when viewed from the automobile behind. The orgasm that followed that day’s growth was so astounding I actually took a short nap after the explosion. My body had just been too wrecked. I woke up on the sofa a half an hour later feeling so jacked I could have plowed an entire college football team after wrestling them all at the same time. When I was fully awake I jumped off the sofa and ran quickly to the full-length mirror in the bedroom. I turned around and nearly passed out when I saw the structural augmentations to my caboose. This was clearly the biggest change my body had undergone up to this point. I didn’t just have a bubble butt I had a gluteus maximus to the maximum. You could have rested a trunk on my trunk. I squeezed the thing and it indented like I was some pro bodybuilder and mouth-watering striations shot across the big thing. An hour later I was at the grocery store after having struggled like hell to get a pair of jeans over my ass and I was leaning across part of the produce section as I heard a huge guy wearing a shirt that said ‘I can bench your daddy’ mumbling to himself as he stared at me. It took a few seconds but I finally figured out he was saying, “Sweet mother of god will you look at that ass.” Later, as I was checking out the young woman bagging my stuff handed me a receipt with a hand written note on it and said it was from a big man – and adding that the guy said I’d know which one. The note said, “If you ever want that beautiful thing serviced call this number” and was followed by what I’m sure was his cell phone. I smiled when I saw that it was signed Rex. He had definitely looked like a Rex. Sunday might have been the day ‘the Lord hath made for resting,’ but my growing body did not take a break. I had spent a good part of the afternoon the day before making sure some of my work pants would still fit over my new enormous back shelf and had quickly realized I was down to just two pairs I could still wear. I wanted to hold off on shopping for new clothes because I had a feeling other big things were on their way. Sunday morning soon proved that theory to be true. Part 2 Since the dawn of man I assumed guys had been getting off on their own bodies. I had a feeling muscular cavemen drew pictures of themselves and then sat by the fire whacking off as they gazed at them. Or maybe they went down to the lake, nearby, and flexed their arm in the water’s reflection just to crank out a big load. I knew I was about to become one in a long line of men that simply loved being big and got off on admiring just how big they were. I accepted all of this as fact without any guilt or embarrassment. I looked forward to the day when I could stand in the middle of the gym, flex while looking in the mirror, get some major wood in my flimsy cotton shorts, and no one think twice about it. If a small guy does that everyone thinks he’s weird, but when a big muscled man does it it’s perfectly fine. I was ready to join that elite club. Sunday’s growth was foreshadowed by a burning sensation that wracked my body for about twenty minutes. I likened it to a blacksmith who gets the iron red with fire so he’s able to pound it into submission. My body was about to be pounded into something. I could just tell. It was hard to be patient about it, too. I couldn’t wait for the first time when some guy begged me to let him feel my flexed arm or for that day when the subway doors opened and the crowd split in two because my huge bulk was stepping off. It would be like a school of fish swimming around a big boulder. And, for sure, I couldn’t wait to kiss my own flexed gun while watching myself in the mirror. That had been one of the most popular fantasies that gave a happy ending to my lust-filled nights. All of the heat in my body was now focused at my stomach. For a few minutes I was afraid I had some kind of flu bug, but then I looked down and saw what was happening – my mouth opened wide in astonishment. The middle part of my body was elongating . . . I kid you not – it was being stretched lengthwise, like I was being pulled by some medieval torture machine. At the same time my stomach was exploding one by one with abdominal muscles, which actually hurt like someone was twisting my gut in the same way you wring out a towel. Significant bumps were popping out one by one across what used to be a non-descript flabby belly. It actually kind of sounded like corks escaping multiple champagne bottles. Even in the midst of the painful transformation I was able to slide one of my hands down there and feel the hard speed bump like ridges bulging into being. It felt as if someone had sliced some steel tubing and slid it under my skin. The hardness, where I used to only feel soft blubber, was intoxicating. I crunched my abs and my cock stood straight up from the thrill of feeling how my stomach turned into corrugated metal. I finally had a six-pack! Whoa, I looked again and noticed I had an eight pack. Some guys want money. Some guys want fast cars. Some guys want pretty women. I wanted muscle . . . and not just some kind of gymnast in-shape kind of body, I wanted to be the kind of swole that caused wet crotches no matter what the onlooker’s gender was. I, of course, preferred sex with men, but I figured when it came to worshipping my muscles I could be gender open. I actually think I would be fine even without worshippers – knowing that my big body would thrill me even more than it would other people, but having that one special admirer was definitely a goal. My mid-section finally ceased its contortions and I was able to twist my muscled core to marvel at the chiseled magnificence that was my new and improved abdominals. I also noticed having that kind of stomach actually made my chest pop out some, but then I realized that my pecs had actually grown a little – gifting me with what most people would call a swimmer’s tight upper body. When I stood up I freaked out a little by how much my view had changed. I was at least six to eight inches taller, maybe even more. My mid-section had not been the only thing to lengthen. My legs had extended, my arms had extended, and even my neck had gotten longer – and thicker. I was shocked at how a few inches could change your whole perception – both about the world around you and within. I knew I would no longer be the guy at concerts who couldn’t see the stage or have to call my friends because they couldn’t see me in the crowd at a club. It took me a few seconds to stop swaying from the dizziness of newfound height. I felt my body slowly recognizing its new size, its new muscled core from where confidence and power radiated. I had always heard a person needed a good core to be healthy, but I had never understood it until this moment. I no longer slouched. My shoulders didn’t cave in forward. And my stomach stayed hard as hell and ripped beyond belief even when I was relaxed. I went to the park shirtless for the first time ever in my life that day. It was the most freeing thing I had ever done – well, second to telling my family and friends I was gay. I didn’t second-guess the decision at all. I didn’t even take a shirt for the off chance I would chicken out. None of my t-shirts would have fit to begin with. They all would have shown off my stomach like I had purposefully bought mid drift tops for males. I simply knew I now had the kind of body where no one would wonder why I had chosen to leave it uncovered. It was more than that, though. I wanted to show off. I wanted to tense my abs and make the young guy giving me the ice cream I purchased totally miss the cone with the scoop of chocolate pistachio because he was staring at my stomach. I wanted the two high school girls to come up and plead with me to allow them to feel my ribbed middle – feeling like it was definitely inappropriate until their moms stepped up and asked to be second. I kind of hoped there would have been two dads to follow but that didn’t happen. It also took some getting used to the fact that I could see so many more things from my new height. Checking out cute guys standing in a crowd was so much easier when you were tall. Seeing options on tall shelves in shops – things I wouldn’t have even known were there before – was so much better. And looking eye to eye – or, bless me, even down – when talking to another big man was so freaking fantastic. I always had a stiff neck before from having to look up. It wasn’t until halfway through my time at the park that I realized I’d been running my hand invitingly over my own rock-hard abs almost all the time – simply to cop a feel and not realizing how it looked to others. I came home with three more notes with phone numbers that day. The ice cream guy, a dude on roller blades that had the perfect combination of tattoos and muscles, and – to my surprise – one of the moms that had felt up my stomach all passed them on to me. At the bottom of the woman’s note it said, “We won’t tell my husband.” I had noticed her hands treaded awfully close to the waistband of my nylon shorts as she explored my hard stomach. I think she wanted to feel a lot more than just my abs. She was the first person to comment on the dark thick furry trail that went from the base of my hard stomach down to the top of my shorts – clearly marking a path to something really good. I glanced at it and my dick jumped a little – something she happily noticed. I had started a telephone number bulletin board in my study, so I placed the day’s gifts there when I got home. Rex’s number was still at the top. Before I even opened my closet I knew I had nothing in there for work that would fit me. I contemplated going out and buying new clothes, but I decided what I needed to buy was a little more time. I called my boss and let him know I wasn’t going to be able to come in tomorrow. I certainly had many sick days built up and I even realized I didn’t need to sound sick – my new lower voice - because of my taller slightly bigger body - made it sound like I had something as bad as the flu. I figured, if needed, I could maybe afford to take three days off. I was caught up on most of my work and during that time I could figure out what the next step would be. It was going to be kind of hard to explain the changes when I arrived after five days of growth, but I’d think of something. Maybe no on would notice. I looked down at my towering body. No, they definitely were going to notice. That night, as I ate my sixth grilled chicken breast and my fourth plate of mixed grilled vegetables I contemplated my desire to be big. Yes, I’d been small all of my life and that made me wish for more. Yes, I was gay and maybe I had some repressed desires to prove myself because of it. Yes, I know I always had wished I could be the not-a-care-in-the-world jock who always won the girl – in my place, the guy – in the end. And yes, I had been bullied a couple of times when I was younger. But I had worked on all of these things so much, that it was like a broken record. I had finally reached a point where I told my therapist that these were just things that had happened to me – like things happen to everyone – and she had told me not to come and see her anymore. She said I had a healthy attitude and was well adjusted. I’m not so sure she would have said that if I had told her I had a secret desire to be humongous. I’m talking Ronny Coleman big or even bigger. Come to think of it, she might have told me it was good to have a goal. The point I was trying to make to myself, however, was that I didn’t think my past made me want to be huge. It was something much more untamed – savage – within me. It was such a base instinct that it practically worked on a subconscious level. It’s only when I actually grew that I became totally obsessed with a desire to get bigger. It was like a drug that I needed to live. It was like something that had been incubating for a long time and was only fully born when I felt my first muscle change. I wanted to be big just to be big – to take up more space in the world. To feel my huge body as it did everyday things – making the bed, taking out the trash, or fixing a sandwich. I wanted to see humongous biceps pumped to the max as I was brushing my teeth. I wanted to have to struggle to get a tight shirt off. I wanted to have lay down on the bed in order to pull my jeans up over monstrous thighs. I wanted to bend my arm and feel it blossom into a big mound of muscle that bulged with hardness. I wanted to pick up things that other people found heavy and not realize how easy it was for me. I wanted to pick out shirts that highlighted my big body in a way that made traffic stop. I wanted to take up almost all the space in my queen-size bed. I wanted to hear sales clerks say, “I’m sorry sir, we don’t have anything in your size.” I wanted to have people sitting beside me in the theatre or on airplanes request a new seat because my hugeness crowded them. I wanted to feel heavier than hell when I walked – or when I bounced my mega pecs. I wanted to see people walk into things as they stared at me – shocked by my size. I wanted to see cocks harden in salutes to my body. I wanted to make furniture seem small. And then I wanted to meet someone special and hear him ask, “Will you pick me up” and “Will you flex for me.” I wanted to wake up in the morning and learn that he’s needed to pee for thirty minutes but since I held him in my big arms he wasn’t able to move. I then would hear that he tried to wake me up, but I even slept through him kicking me. I wanted my man to drool onto my hard muscle as he slept with his head resting on my biceps – dreaming of how big I am. I longed for the day when we’d be reading the paper in bed and he’d be unconsciously playing with my chest and nips as he looked at the articles. I looked forward to helping him do household chores by easily lifting him to dust things higher than his head, pick up furniture so he could vacuum underneath, and carry him around sometimes so he wouldn’t get worn out. I wanted to be big so my cute little man felt safe, protected, and proud when we were out. These thoughts made me realize my therapist would have definitely said there was more work to do – but then when she finally saw me all huge and covered in muscles she would have immediately understood. Part Three As light peeped through the half-closed curtains of my bedroom I began to crawl back to consciousness. I hadn’t even remembered moving to my bed or falling asleep last night. Clearly, yesterday’s growth and fun in the park had worn me out. I knew one day soon I would wake up and feel how the bed sagged from my weight and how it creaked as if begging for mercy when I rolled over or even moved a massively muscled leg. For today, I settled for sending my hand down to my mid-section and emitting a slight, low joyous moan when I felt the hardness that had been chiseled out in yesterday’s growth. Even without tensing, I had abs of steel-like, thick muscle that radiated power without me even looking at them. Touch, alone, was enough to make my cock shoot fully hard. But then I tightened my abdominals and immediately released a voluminous round of cum explosions, which rained down on me with loud splats that emphasized their size and their thickness. Three minutes into the day and I had released a load befitting of the huge man I would someday become. That was a new record for me. I had a feeling I had better get used to it. Buying a few extra sets of sheets was going to have to be a must on my list of things to do. I went to make a mental note, but realized my chest was tightening quickly – to a point where I could barely breathe. It suddenly dawned on me that I had slept a lot later than I usually did. Changes were already coming. I forced myself to stop gasping for breath and calmed my mind . . . as well as my body. The tightness continued, but my breathing – once slowed down – became almost normal again. Within my head I could hear bones in my chest growing. It was like plates were shifting underneath the earth’s surface. It sounded like some nearby construction site was pounding something big and heavy into the ground. I realized that this structural improvement was needed in order for a solid foundation to support what was to come. I ‘let go’ and just enjoyed the ride. My undercarriage was expanding. It needed to so that my outer body could go from being a Prius to becoming a Hummer. My shoulders began to broaden noticeably. I could tell they were going to cover a much larger width on the mattress when the growth stopped. My ribcage, sternum, backbones, and every other bone in my upper body were widening – setting the stage for a spectacular muscle show of the future. As if some muscle fairy that knew a lot about gym bodies was in charge of my growth, my lower body expanded as well – so I wouldn’t be one of those guys that has a muscular torso, but clearly never worked on his wheels. I sensed I was becoming a classic young ectomorph – tall and lean, but clearly with a mesomorph’s potential. One of my favorite online morphers specialized in tall muscular men and I got the feeling he really would have loved what was happening to me. Even though I didn’t think it was possible, my core intensified, as well. I could sense it was strengthening so it would easily support the gigantic hourglass shape I would someday possess. I also realized the moans that had unconsciously been escaping my mouth for the last few minutes had lowered many octaves – making my voice sound sexier than hell. I probably could have turned on Marvin Gaye just reading the phone book. Did they even have phone books any more? If they did I wanted to easily rip one apart for my little worshipping lover – or maybe two put together. I suddenly realized I was losing my focus. I returned to being attuned to my body. I laughed a little when I noticed the feeling below my waist. It felt like someone was applying layer upon layer of thick, wide duck tape around my cock. The thing was thickening to ‘oh my god that thing is not getting near me’ proportions. Thank goodness my hands were growing because my old puny things couldn’t have gripped my new tool to save my life. Say what you like about cocks – for some people found them ugly and some people adored them – it was clear, however, that my body was being shot through with adrenaline, testosterone, confidence, and just plain old stanky manliness, which was originating in my newly dense shaft and mega-sized balls. I could feel the beads of old self-doubt oozing out of my pores as masculine sweat and falling away from my body. My brain was being developed by my growth, as well, and it was fucking enjoyable beyond my wildest dreams. I thought about my little barista friend having to now tilt his head upward to talk to me and a shiver shot down my spine. I imagined his hand shaking as he handed me my coffee because my new attitude of awesomeness would be a little overwhelming. I imagined him staring at my new lean tall body with lust in his eyes. Again, I was getting too easily distracted. Returning my focus to my body gave me a glancing vision of what greatness was to come. I lifted my hands and saw that they had become truly monstrous – to match my new big-boned, lanky body. Not to mention to match and foreshadow the mammoth cock that now hung between my legs. If I had placed these hands beside my old ones you would have thought they were skin covered large baseball mitts. Only with thick fingers, too! They were covered in so much hairy, sinewy, manly goodness that my new substantial meat shot menacingly into the sky and erupted like a pornographic Mount Vesuvius sending hot lava miles away. The second massive ejaculation in less than thirty minutes! I was definitely continuing to fall in love with my new body and all it was capable of. Not stopping to clean myself or to even really register the intoxicating smell of big man sweat mixed with big man spunk, I quickly ran to the full-length mirror to take in the day’s enhancements. Damn, I immediately understood why some people found lanky men so gorgeous. A guy over six feet five inches tall, with broad shoulders and a V-shape that was to die for was not quite as good as a hulking bodybuilder body, but it was pretty damn close. I quickly noticed that all of my muscles were more pronounced and stripped with taunt sinew making me look like some kind of lean martial arts fighting machine. I tensed my body and gasped loudly as it exploded into tight muscles everywhere. I instinctively knew the foundation was now complete – I had the height, the bone construction needed, and the power-radiating core that would allow my body to morph into the muscle mountain that was waiting to be born. I reached down and grabbed the meat hanging low between my legs. When I lifted it I was shocked by how heavy it felt and by its new density. This was a tool made for pounding . . . for pleasing . . . for pleasing while it was pounding. I imagined my future husband impaled by the gorgeous thing like a man lollipop just waiting to be licked and sucked. I knew I had to find a guy that liked to be held in the air while he was fucked, because that was surely one of the reasons to have huge powerful arms and a rod that could become a battering ram. My balls hung gloriously down like someone was carrying two small watermelons in a skin colored sack. I couldn’t wait to go commando in cotton shorts and have those big things flop back and forth as my wheels propelled me across a gym floor. Or, better yet, I wanted to dance at a nightclub in nylon basketball shorts and have the thick dick and huge balls all bounce around in a hypnotic ‘come make me get hard’ kind of way. I suddenly had the intense desire for coffee - well, actually, I had an intense desire for a coffee man. He was about to have his mind blown . . . and maybe blow something else, too. When I put my mind to it, I could have a bed stripped, sheets running in the laundry, and my new lanky body all spit-perfect clean in less than thirty minutes. I was a man on a mission and the only thing that slowed me down was the fact that I had to choose something to wear. My biggest t-shirt was still skin-tight across the upper part of my torso and only hung just below my first set of tight hard abs. It would have to do. Shorts were slightly easier – thank god for the fleece ones I owned, which had been really long on my old body, but were nearing obscene on my new one. I didn’t care. I started to pull on some briefs, but then a little confident nudge in my brain told me they weren’t needed. I’d be giving the world a gift today. A pretty big gift, to be exact. I glanced at myself in the mirror and immediately felt trashy good. It seemed that more flesh was uncovered than covered, but that was just because of how good the uncovered part looked. I double-checked to make sure I couldn’t get arrested for indecent exposure and then I strode confidently from my place – ready for the adventured my hot body would cause. I didn’t have to wait long for my first victim . . . um, I mean reward. A stocky fifty-something mailman was standing at the boxes in our lobby when I came down the elevator. He glanced up as I was walking by and my chin lift hello, enhanced by my killer smile, made it as if he had seen a ghost. He kind of slammed his body against the bank of mailboxes, shot tense like his entire body had been thrown into a wonderful hard-on, and said ‘fuck me.’ I placed a big hand on his shoulder, looked down at him, and teasingly said, “Thanks for the offer, dude, but I don’t think this would be the ideal place. It’s a little too public. I gave his shoulder a slight squeeze and didn’t wait around to see if my contact with his body had done some damage to him below the belt. I felt like it was certain I could count him as reward number one. I was looking forward to my other admirers . . . one, in particular. It was a totally new feeling to walk down the street and know people were looking at you. I could feel it – in the same way I could feel the cool breeze blowing against my scantily clad body. I didn’t look down or away when I met people’s open mouth stares. I’d lock my gaze with theirs, smile, and nod my head a little to show my appreciation for their obvious drool-filled compliment. I was two blocks into the walk when I realized I was continuously pinching the hell out of my own nipples and rocking my shorts in a way that made it clear my big feet and hands were a precursor to something gigantic. No wonder I was getting so much attention. I forced my arms to dangle at my side and I immediately marveled at how my tall lanky body seemed to soak up the sunlight and made my new improved skin glow with healthiness. I had stopped at the little market on the corner near my building to buy the biggest pair of cheap flip-flops available and still my toes stuck over the edge a little. I knew my thick long piece of meat – finally calm since I wasn’t squeezing the hell out of my nubs – swung invitingly against the fabric of my shorts as I walked. Construction workers unloading a truck at one corner stopped what they were doing to gaze at me, and one was even brave enough to whistle loudly. I looked over and said ‘thank you’ which made them all break out into cheers and laughter. If canned music piped into coffee shops had been human, it would have gone silent just like the chatter abruptly stopped when I opened the door to my favorite place. It felt like a spotlight had suddenly screamed on – focused solely on me. I sort of noticed the intense attention, briefly, but I was more fixated on the fact that I had forgotten today was the day off for my little barista! How could I have let that slip my mind? Oh, probably it was the fact that my body had shot up a bunch of inches and it was getting ready for what I thought would be muscles beyond my wildest imagination. My disappointment must have clearly shown on my face because immediately the cute girl standing behind the corner told me to not worry, Landon would be back tomorrow. I turned beet red when I realized she was acutely aware of why I had been bummed and had even known about my connection with her co-worker in the first place. I, however, was extremely happy to know his name. I ordered my usual and stood to the side to wait for it to be made. Suddenly, I heard a sexy voice say, “Well, you’re a nice tall glass of handsome goodness.” I turned to find a guy in his mid thirties, mustached like he just stepped out of a seventies porn video, dressed nicely in a polo and cargo shorts. He was definitely taller than the old me, but quite a few inches shorter than my improved body. I looked down at him and smiled. Within three minutes of small talk we found ourselves locked in the men’s bathroom having not cared one bit if people saw us go into the single toilet room together. He had my body pressed up against the wall and our mouths were like two Hoovers battling out for the same speck of dust. It was all very nice and he was a very handsome dude, but something just didn’t feel right. I couldn’t place it at first and I worried that I was subconsciously feeling like I was cheating on Landon – which was crazy. In the middle of sucking face it suddenly hit me what the problem was and I knew how to fix it. I easily pushed the body of my coffee shop delight away from me and maneuvered my body away from the wall. At the same time I spun us around and then slammed his back against the concrete so my bigger body was pressing against his smaller one. Suddenly, the world was right. I felt a jolt of aggressiveness and let my huge hands grope all of his upper body. As soon as we had gotten to our proper places – the alpha dominating the pup – both of us began to enjoy the making out a lot more. I grabbed his wrists and held his arms above his head, loving how he squirmed as he tried to free himself. I never stopped sucking his face – even when I brought my thicker thigh between his legs and lifted his body a slightly off the ground, just by using one powerful leg to push him up. He was moaning so loud I had a feeling the staff was going to bust down the door to make sure the guy that was okay. Instinctively, something told me the guy was already on the cusp of an orgasm. It was a new sensation for me – to know some guy’s body so well I could intuit what was going on inside him. I knew, immediately, this was tied to the changes in my own body and that made me want to grow even more. I let go of one of his hands and reached down to grab his balls through his pants. I squeezed tightly and he instantly started bucking with his hips against my thigh. His ejaculation was powerful and long. He let out a loud half moan that stopped as soon as he started spurting. He was too overwhelmed to even cry out – his face tensed and purple. After what seemed like an eternity, he slumped against the wall and apologized for shooting so soon. He said the action was just too hot for him – and then added that I was too hot for him. I reached up and tweaked his hard nipple through his now wrinkled shirt and told him it was fine. I said I took it as a compliment. The pungent smell of his cum filled the bathroom and that turned me on even more. I had easily made this guy shoot off like a rocket. I accepted a business card from Taylor, kissed him hard one last time, and told him I’d see him around. I could see the poor guy was totally spent and would need to stay in the bathroom a little longer to rest after I left. I could also see he was going to have trouble hiding the growing wet stain at his crotch. Once I was outside the coffee shop, I did nothing to hide the raging hard-on I was sporting in my skimpy shorts. I let the newly enlarged cock poke across my left thigh as if I had stuffed a cement-filled two-liter bottle in my pants. I had never known men could look at you so savagely. It seemed I was the little fawn that had been dropped into a pack of starved wolves. Random guys on the street openly stared at my crotch, others licked their lips, and some even made comments as they passed. While waiting for the walk sign to change a tall college stud told me he could ride my big rod so hard it would make my head spin. I told him thanks and walked on. My new size made me feel powerful – and not just because of the extra meat I now had below the waist. I loved feeling tall, feeling physically fit, and knowing that almost every person who passed me couldn’t help but stare. I was turning into the hunk I had always wanted to be and soon I would have a massive body to match the cockiness I was starting to feel inside. Now my body looked healthy and like a fitness model, but I knew that I would soon grow bigger. I was going to be the kind of muscle freak that could make a dude light headed just by flexing. A simple scratching of my head would make my biceps swell so huge that people would gasp at the sight. Suddenly, I realized I had stopped and was again unconsciously running one hand up and down my corrugated abs while the other one squeezed my right nipple hard. I didn’t even realize I was pleasing myself so openly in public. Two guys in business suits sitting on a bench nearby had stopped in the middle of taking bites of their lunches to simply stare at me open-mouthed. I smiled at them and then just walked over to stand right in front of them. Salad containers were quickly placed on the bench and four hands started exploring my stomach, my thighs, my chest, and even the log that remained impressively hard in my shorts. I got a little jolt of a dominating pleasure as the two guys quickly fell into worship mode. I grabbed two fists full of hair and pulled their heads back and forth a little to slight moans of joy. I knew I could have told either one of them to suck me off right there and then and they would have done it. I realized I was so freaking jacked-up horny that it was a little hard to control myself. I imagined both guys thrown over the bench buck naked and me taking turns plowing their tight asses as people walked by. One dude had slipped his hand up the leg of my shorts and was happily fingering the leaking slit of my plump dick head. The other man had brought his lips to my tight stomach and was presently giving my hard ridges a nice saliva shine. I glanced down the street and saw what was clearly a group of pre-school students out on a school outing with their teachers coming our way. I decided it was not our task to do visual aids for a sex education course, so I backed away from my little worshippers, which caused soft cries of disappointment. I thanked them both for our quick little soiree and then walked on, turning before I had to make my way through a gaggle of young munchkins. At this point I was so worked up that every fiber of my being was on fire for a much needed release. I knew I needed to get home or I was going to do something wild like grabbing an unsuspecting construction worker and introducing him to the pleasures of man-on-man, throw down, pounding sex. Or I might step into the gym near my house and find me a smaller, tight-bodied dude to twirl around on my throbbing rod. It was clear that my soon-to-be-massive body was going to need constant satisfaction. I wasn’t near the huge being I was going to become, but I already needed the kind of release equal to an entire high school football team after a cock-hardening championship game. It felt like I could have easily fucked a concrete wall. I was again feeling up my entire body without even realizing it as I re-entered my building – remembering my little encounter with the mailman earlier that morning. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but I knew that was because my new body was making me feel like a new man. I couldn’t wait to start really growing. Before I even unlocked my door I had my hard tool out of my shorts and was beating off joyously. Part Four An hour later I was totally spent on the middle of the living room floor with the now dried juice of multiple orgasms covering my body. I hadn’t been able to make it to the bedroom for my marathon round of masturbatory pleasure. The floor had been right there and way too convenient. Thoughts of what my body was going to look like, to feel like, and how it was going to appear to other people had been enough for each ejaculation, but the added joy of grabbing hold of a new honking huge cock and feeling my lean, muscular, long body had added much more bliss. I still had my rod in my right hand – marveling at how heavy the thing seemed and how insanely more hard it could become. It was definitely what I would call a weapon of mass destruction. I could not wait to try it out on some guy. Plugging a super tight hole with the big thick thing was going to turn me on even more than usual. I lay there for a while and simply reveled in the fact that I now thought about things like ramming my monster dick into a guy’s clamped shut ass. I was becoming so self assured – so confident. I knew, instinctively, that my present new body and the behemoth I was going to become would help me easily get men to plow. I certainly dreamed of settling down with a little muscle worshipper that I could protect and control, but maybe – before that joyful union happened – I could test out my new bod by conquering lots of other guys, maybe a few in the same evening. I mean, I could tell there was going to be a lot of me to spread around. Why shouldn’t I use my new body to spread some love around – not to mention some legs. I was going to be the huge muscled fairy granting little men’s wishes – fulfilling fantasies. God, I always wanted to be the kind of guy that would easily have sex in the broom closet of the airport, the bathroom stall at the opera, or banging my boss in his office. Having some little guy hanging on to my big muscles for dear life as I plowed him mid-air was still my biggest fantasy. And this was coming from a guy who just a few days ago couldn’t even imagine picking up someone in the air to fuck them. I knew it would soon be a piece of cake. I had succeeded in making my huge rod stick powerfully straight up in the air again. The idea of some little guy sitting on my giant spear was just too much for me. While I stroked the log down below I felt my thick, make-me-weak-in-the-knees lumberjack beard with my other hand. The bristles seemed so hard and manly, which was a huge turn-on. Shaving twice a day would have to be a normal thing if I ever intended to have a smooth face again. I was pretty sure I was going to leave the mountain man facial hair there for a while, though. It was just too hot on my newly muscled face. Piercing eyes, chiseled cheeks, sleek cut jawline, and tanned skin made the fur pop out even more. Some of my hot lava man-juice oozed out of my dick head as I thought about how gorgeous I was becoming. I slowed the pumping of my fist – wanting to edge this ejaculation on as long as I possibly could. I was beginning to realize I was going to become even bigger than I had initially thought. I was pretty sure my foundation wasn’t fully set. The basic structure of my body had changed – had become more fit for all the massiveness that was going to be added. But holding my monster dick in my hand made it clear to me that I was going to still grow taller, still get much wider, and everything was just going to fucking grow. I looked around my apartment and realized I was going to need to get a bigger place. That excited me even more. I could instantly tell that the doorframes throughout my apartment – already dangerously close to my raised head – were going to be way too short for my new body and much too narrow. I was going to have to fold up my huge enhanced muscles just to go from room to room. The idea of having shoulders too wide for a regular door was almost too much for me. Again, I refrained from sliding my big hand up and down my enormous tool. I was still getting used to having a tall lanky body – how was I ever going to adjust to being a mountain of hard beef rippling with bulges, striations, and pure manliness. All of these thoughts made me focus on one desire and only one – I needed to pound an ass and I needed to pound it hard. I needed to make some guy scream with a mixture of delight and shocked awe at what my rod was capable of. There was only one thing to do – and that was to go out and show off my new body while cruising for a little nighttime diversion. Thank goodness for late night thrift stores. I was able to stop and get a nice tight blue polo shirt and some butt-hugging jeans to wear to the bar that night. The lone worker in the store couldn’t take his eyes off of me the second I walked in. He was a husky tattooed bearded fella that looked to be about twenty four with the kind of muscular body that used to thrill me to no end, but now I realized I would soon surpass him tenfold. Still, when he locked the front door after I asked if I could try on the clothes and then turned to say he’d be glad to help me, I didn’t say no. We were soon in the small dressing room and I was buck-naked ramming my hard rod into his warm wet mouth. The guy had been all over me as soon as we stepped behind the door. He had my t-shirt over my head in seconds and was running his hands all over my upper torso. He kept saying I must swim a hundred laps a day to get such an awesome physique and I nodded saying it was something like that. He didn’t even ask before he pushed down my shorts and released the gigantic dragon that reared its big plump head from my crotch. The grown man squealed with delight and was down on his knees before you could say suck. I had to bend my knees a little so I could get my dong low enough for him to somehow dislocate his jaw to take the entire thing down his throat. I was instantly impressed with his oral skills and grabbed hold of his ears with my big hands to speed up his bobbing. I couldn’t tell if the dude was gagging or gurgling with pleasure, but I was so on track for getting off that I didn’t care. I just kept thrusting and he just kept on swallowing. To know a guy is a size queen and he appreciates the swollen hugeness of your mighty battering ram is an empowering thing. I suddenly felt bigger and cockier than I ever had in my entire life. I pounded the guy as if it had been his bubbled ass instead of his hot tight mouth. I could tell he was loving every dominating second! I’d shove my rod deep into his throat and hold it there, pulling hard on his ears to make all of my long shaft fit in nicely. Then I’d pull back and let go with another thrust just as the guy sucked in air to sustain the abuse. The horny tatted guy shot his load way before me – clearly I was just too much man for him to handle. He blasted out a humongous wad as I continued to pound his face. He wasn’t exactly limp when I finally ejaculated, but I could tell his body was worn out by his own orgasm. That did not prevent him from continuing to suck like the pro Hoover he was. I let out a low growl-like scream and arched my muscled back as I filled him with enough of my hot juice that it came oozing out the corners of his mouth and dripped down his face and neck. When I throbbed out my last gob of semen I let go of his ears and let his body fall back onto his feet, a loud pop being emitted as my cockhead uncorked from his mouth. He let his body slide against the wall of the dressing room and never took his eyes off of me. I reached down and took my old t-shit, using it to clean off my slick cum-saliva covered cock. I tossed it to him and he immediately brought it up to his nose to smell. He understood that I was offering it to him as a memento of our encounter and that pleased him a lot. He even told me my new shirt and jeans were on the house. I thanked him and then asked if he had a card. I wanted to add it to my collection and I also thought it might be fun to come back with my new swole muscles just to give him another thrill. He handed me a card and then asked if I minded letting myself out, since he wanted to stay there on the floor for a few more minutes to savor the moment. He assured me that he’d be fine – there was a bell on the door if someone came in. I dressed slowly in front of him and we both looked in the mirror to appreciate how great the tight clothes looked on my body. He wished me a good evening and I bent down to give him a kiss on the forehead. I knew he was getting hard again as he watched my muscled ass leave the room. As I stepped into the coolness of the night my nipples hardened and poked noticeably through my polo. I was already jacked up again and ready for another big release. I loved dancing, so I headed to the local gay nightclub that was for serious ravers. Peeling off my polo in the middle of a dance floor while my giant rod threatened the seams of my jeans at the crotch was going to be fun. I instinctively knew I’d have my choice of men that evening and I wondered who the lucky guy would be. There was a long line at the place, but I now knew I shouldn’t just naturally take a spot at the back. I walked confidently up to the front, passing by many guys whose mouths dropped open wide as I went by. The two doormen had the velvet rope unhitched by the time I got there – having watched me walking up. One of them told me to come right in and even added that the hotness quotient of the night had just doubled. I thanked him, smiled, and then walked inside. I now understood what ‘owning the moment’ really meant. As soon as I stepped into the large hangar-sized dance room the thumping techno music entered my newly enhanced body and took over. I walked to the edge of the stairs that led down to the dance floor. I could feel people staring at me . . . I knew instantly that the gaggle of muscle-Mary’s to my right were chatting away about me and emitting squeals of joy. They were big gym-bunnies, but soon I would surpass them. Even though I was flattered by their praise and thought about joining them, I continued to survey the huge room. There were some bull-like daddies at one end of the bar slobbering a little as they took in all my lanky goodness. And, although a night of being the fresh meat for a pack of elder furry wolves did sound nice, it wasn’t what I was looking for. The place was peppered with groups of guys who were proud of their twink-ness and they looked up at me with a reverence that was intoxicating. It passed through my head that a night of pounding three tight asses instead of one would be awesome, but I didn’t want to deal with the drama of three small dudes fighting over my cock, my nips, and my mouth. That could be saved for when there was enough of me for even more than three. That’s when my attention went to the dance floor. A sea of hot looking, sweaty, gyrating bodies seemed to swell in my direction like a wave coming to shore. My new soon-to-be-huge frame had the pull of a hundred moons. It felt like I was some Aztec god surveying the excited crowd in order to choose my next concubine. My hands knew what to do at that moment without my brain even giving an order. I slowly un-tucked the bottom of my shirt and then methodically pulled it up over my long, muscled, lanky, emphasized V-shaped body. Tucking the shirt into my back pocket I noticed that most of the movement on the dance floor had stopped – hundreds of heads tilted up toward me. My abs tensed harder – on their own, it seemed – my bod just knew what to do. I heard one of the muscle Mary’s near me let out a loud scream as he beheld my stomach. That was when I noticed him – a guy still dancing on his own in the middle of the dance floor. He had on a tight white t-shirt that showed off his gymnast-like muscled body and some butt-hugging worn out black jeans that had holes in places where my tongue wanted to explore. The man had the kind of dance moves that seem to enhance whatever song was playing and definitely attracted hard dicks like some kind magnet. As he moved around slowly his ‘rest-a-few-drinks-here’ ass protruded out and flexed with muscled dimples – even noticeable through the jeans. I spread my legs wider, to let my cock have room to expand to a bigger state – and to get the cute solo dancer to notice me. I knew he’d look. The dude was gorgeous – in my humble horny opinion. Hair that was blacker than a starless night. It was also full like a forest – leading me to believe the man was furry all over. Nice shoulders, thick biceps, a full chest, and a tight stomach only made the guy that much hotter. He had a day’s worth of beautiful manly stubble and I imagined how it would make my lips kind of raw from too much kissing. He was tall enough for his face to be even with my newly raised pecs – the perfect height for some oral adoration. But it was the way his jeans crept up his ass crack to emphasize two perfect globular mounds of dimpled muscle that made me choose him above everyone else in the place. It was the type of tight ass that probably could hold six or seven quarters between those cheeks and not drop one even when he was in motion. It moved in rhythm with the music in such an intoxicating way I found myself almost hypnotized. Everyone around me had returned to his previous conversation. It was clear that the tall lanky glass of handsome water was heading home with the dreamy black-haired angel moving effortlessly on the dance floor. It seemed that everyone there thought this was how it should be – so they accepted it and moved on to search for another guy to pick up. Although, I knew, many people continued to steal drooling glances at my new body. I sauntered down the stairs slowly, wanting to emphasize every bulge and every hard ripple that graced my changing body. The show was for one guy in particular, but if others enjoyed it, too, then that was fine. Mr. Dark Hair locked eyes with me as soon as I started moving. I suddenly realized he had been aware of me the entire time, he had just chosen a different way to get me to notice him. It had definitely worked. The smooth face broke into a beautiful smile as I came down the stairs. His eyes seemed as dark as his hair. There was a slight hunky vampire look to the fellow, since his skin was surrounded by so much blackness – and I found it such a huge turn on. I wasn’t even conscious of the people on the dance floor parting as I moved toward my target – it just happened so naturally. I smiled down at my soon-to-be dance partner when I got close enough to tower over him. His mouth was at nip-level, just as I hoped it would be. The music turned into an almost tribal-like beat as we met and my body started to instantly move in conjunction with his – as if we’d been dance partners for years. The sea of onlookers and fellow dancers surrounded us once again and the two of us were lost in each other. His name was Gabriel and he was an architect. He owned a firm with two other men and I could instantly tell the guy was stable, confident, and knew I went weak in the knees every time he turned around and tensed his bubbled ass while he danced. By this point my cock looked like the trunk of a Redwood snaking down my thick thigh. Gabriel kept stealing glances at my crotch and I wasn’t sure if he was turned on or scared. At one point I bent my legs slightly and drew his body into mine, allowing my cock to press up against his stomach and crotch as I grabbed his beautiful ass. An electricity shot through both of us that was palpable and almost overwhelming. Gabriel moaned lightly in my ear and that made me grab his tensed butt meat even harder. The man ground his crotch into mine – emphasizing that his dance moves were not only spectacular on the dance floor. I leaned my head next to his and asked him what turned him on the most. He looked up at me and said if he were being totally honest the answer would be guys that are the size of pro bodybuilders, but then he quickly added that my tall lanky body had a pull on him in a way he had never experienced before. He said he found me incredibly sexy. I asked if he’d like me even more if I had about a hundred and fifty pounds of bulging muscle all over my body and his cock throbbed hard against me as his response. He also nodded his head. He told me he was the best muscle worshipper in town. I asked him if he was good at riding huge cocks and he replied that he was the fucking rodeo champion when it came to bucking dicks. It felt as if I could have lifted him in the air right then and there and slammed my rod through my jeans and his to plow that sweet tight muscled ass. I quickly told him I could offer him the ride of his life. He reached down to my crotch with his hand and tried to wrap his fingers around the big thing outlined in my pants – but to no avail. I could see he was impressed by the hardness as well as the size. He said he lived far away. I said I lived close by – within walking distance. He grabbed my hand and immediately led me from the dance floor, up the stairs, and out into the cool night again. I could see all the smiles of affirmation as we walked out – but I also saw the disappointment in faces, as well. Gabriel asked me to not put on my shirt when I pulled it from my back pocket once we were outside. He said my body would scare off any muggers or thieves, but I also knew he just liked looking at me. He took my left hand and led it to the waistband of his pants in the back. I pushed through and was happy to find out he had gone commando for the evening – my fingers got to play joyously with his tight crack and fondle his bulbous cheeks. As we walked toward my place I asked him why he loved bodybuilders and he said it was their size. It was like hugging a rhino or an elephant and the monstrosity of a guy could make him come without even touching himself. He also said the power behind a muscleman’s pounding was usually ten times stronger than that of a normal guy. He said he loved it when he could continue to feel a guy inside of him hours later after the fucking. To be at his desk working on the plans of a building and still feel like his ass was packed with enormous beef was such a continuous turn on. He said he felt the same way when the day after of some hot sex his face still felt like bulging biceps or monstrous pecs were thrusting against it. I told him he sounded like a muscle whore and he said I had no idea. At one point I pushed him against the darkened doorway of an apartment building and pressed my hard body against him. His hands immediately went to my abs and I could tell he got off on how hard and muscled they were. I reached around and grabbled his ass – squeezing with almost all of my might, which caused him to go up on his toes. I then pulled him into me more and lifted him up easily. He wrapped his legs around my mid-section and I pressed him harder into the wooden door. Our lips were pressed against each other’s as if our life depended on it. He pressed my face back for a few minutes and said I had the aggression of some guy ten times my size and it was my time to say he had no idea. I attacked him harder with my hands and mouth and the guy started moaning so loud that lights in windows of the building behind him started to come on. I immediately pulled him away from the door and scurried down the street – him still wrapped around my waist as I waddled away. I stopped at a concrete bench near a corner and stood him up on it – so our faces were more even. We just stared into each other’s eyes for a few minutes and then he told me he thought I must be some kind of hypnotist – because he kept getting this vision that I was five guys slammed into the body of one. His words excited me so much that all I could do was grunt in agreement and thrust my giant cock against his, kissing him even harder. I finally turned around and told him to jump on. He wrapped his arms around my neck and his legs around my waist – pushing his hard-on against my lower back – and I began to jog home. I didn’t want to waste any more time. I was ready to pound him into tomorrow. I don’t even remember moving from my front door into the bedroom or even when we got our clothes off. I only remember the moment when my big hand pressed the side of his face into the pillow as I slowly pushed my massive cockhead through the clenched muscled gate of his ass. He screamed loud enough to wake the dead and his body tensed up with so much resistance to the invasion that I paused for a second. He immediately yelled that I should by no means fucking stop. I then pushed harder – making it perfectly clear that all of his resistance was powerless to my giant rod. Soon I was thrusting so hard that the headboard of my bed was banging paint off the wall. Three Gabriel orgasms later the smaller guy was sitting on top of me riding my engorged big cock like a true cowboy. My hips were easily bucking his body into the air and then he’d come slamming back down on me with a loud smack. I unloaded an ocean of my juice into the poor dude over the next few hours and gave him the kind of pounding that would make his ass – as well as the rest of his body – remember me for weeks. Somewhere around four-thirty we both fell sound asleep – me cradling his cum-covered body against me. The next thing I remembered, I was suddenly jerked out of a deep sleep and into consciousness by Gabriel’s loud shocked voice. He was asking what the fuck was happening to me and then added how the hell could I be growing. I immediately was fully awake.
  2. 40 points
    CHAPTER 2 The next evening, after dinner with Dasa and a couple other friends, I put on my workout gear and began the five-minute walk to the gym. The sun had gone down an hour before and, while the air WAS cooler, it was still humid enough to immediately cover me in sweat. I welcomed the conditioned rush of air when I walked through the gym doors. The base gym was impressive. It had to be. It was, after all, the effective place of worship for half the servicemen and -women who called this place home. Sprawling over a hundred thousand square feet, it was still crowded. I hunkered down on a bench and warmed up with a few presses with just the bar. Along the way I saw myself in the mirror. My shirt had no sleeves and I was happy to see the soft bulges of my shoulders and arms stand in relief under the harsh overhead lights. I had decent traps and my pecs cast a nice shadow on the fabric beneath it, hinting at a flat stomach. My legs were my pride and joy. They’d always been the most developed part of my body and they still were. Nice tear drops hung below the hem of my shorts and my calves stood out even while sitting down. It was slightly depressing to think that while I had the lower body of a 200-pound gym rat, mathematically that meant I had the upper body of a 170-pound gym rat. That will be change, I thought to myself as I added some weight to the bar. After a few sets I spied Dasa talking to a giant of a man I’d seen here a few times before. She caught my eye and I gave her a wry smirk. I had to admit she had good taste. The guy was perhaps 6’3 and 240 pounds of rippled muscle. He filled his sleeveless shirt completely; I could see the bricks of his abs pressing through it. Smooth pecs bulged above the low hanging color of his shirt and sat below traps that rolled halfway up his neck. He wore the comically short military issue PT shorts that barely made it below mid-thigh. Mountainous quads blossomed from below the hem, making the legs I’d just been proud of feel like bean poles. They shook every time the guy shifted his weight, muscles gnarling over each other It took a moment to notice Dasa was trying to wave me over. I got up and did so, face slightly reddened at the thought they’d caught me staring. “Alex,” Dasa said when I got within earshot. “This is Boulder Hodges. He’s a navy guy, just like you!” I smiled, genuinely happy to meet someone from the navy I’d be a part of had they not sent me here as a sacrificial lamb. “Nice to meet you…Boulder?” “Call sign,” Bill said with a grin, referring to the nicknames naval pilots loved to give each other. “Can’t imagine where it came from,” he said sarcastically as he raised his arms and flexed nineteen inch arms. Lats flared under them. I had the sudden urge to just grab and squeeze them just to find out what they felt like. “He was the linebacker at the Naval Academy,” Dasa said and added wryly: “But he lost twice against Air Force.” The latter was Dasa’s alma mater. “And won twice,” Bill said, looking down at Dasa with a broad smile. She gave his arm a pinch that barely dented it. I was beginning to feel like the third wheel. As much as this Bill thought he was running the show here, he was the prey. Dasa had him under her spell. It was just then I spied someone across the gym that had no business being here. That piece of shit, I thought menacingly. “It was nice meeting you…Boulder,” I said awkwardly, feeling my hand get swallowed in his as I shook it. “Excuse me, please,” I said to both of them and walked towards my new target. “Whitaker,” I said gently but firmly to a broad, sweaty, and very shirtless back facing me. Staff Sergeant Whitaker’s shoulders jumped at hearing his name and recognizing who said it. He turned around and presented me with his body in all its shirtless glory. God, he used his 215 pounds well. It must be chest day; his pecs were gorged and swollen and red. Needless to say, wearing a shirt was one of the more obvious gym rules but Whitaker had a record of not caring about the rules and gyms had a record for not enforcing them. That said, it was a distraction I really didn’t need right now. I think I could bury my finger to the knuckle between those pecs. “I know what you’re going to say,” Whitaker said, his hands going up as if to surrender. The simple act making those amazing arms swell. I calmly raised my hand in a quieting gesture and looked at the two other muscle heads Whitaker was with, who both actually wore shirts (if the ones that were little more than strings with a napkin on the front). “Please excuse us a minute.” I didn’t want to embarrass him in front of his friends and tried to make this conversation appear every bit a simple work discussion. I felt bold for some reason and grabbed the back of his arm to escort him from the weight room. His skin slid across the bolder hard muscle of his triceps, which were pumped from his evening workout. “You’re supposed to be on watch,” I said in a sharp whisper once we were in the hall. I could feel the heat radiating from his musky body. “Lewis took it,” Whitaker said. I felt genuine rage build up inside of me and my awe of Whitaker’s body for once took a back seat. “He what?!” This fucker bullied Lewis to take the watch he was supposed to take as punishment? Whitaker’s eyes showed a hint of fear. “No, it’s not like that,” he said, reading my thoughts. “I went and stood last night’s watch and everything. But he comes strolling up when I was taking relieving Rogers tonight and says everything’s cool. Then he asks to take the watch. I told him no, sir, I really did. But he kept saying it was ok.” I didn’t believe him and it must have showed. “Honest, lieutenant, he really did.” I stared at the asshole Adonis for a few moments before stepping back. “I’m going to pay him a visit. If I get one whiff that he was pressured into this, I’m sending you home.” I may have overplayed my hand because Whitaker’s eyes lost their fear. He loved this place. The easy access to food, gyms, and women made this a wonderland to him. “Fine, sir, ask him.” He turned to rejoin his friends, leaving me to stare at his wide and bulging back. I could see the bumps of his glutes peaking over the top of his shorts where it joined the muscular ridges of his lower back. A shirt dangled from there, held between the elastic waistband and his body. I pulled it free, reached around, and pushed it against his bare chest. It was like pressing against the side of a refrigerator. “Put your shirt on,” I said. “You don’t always have to be the exception.” Whitaker took the shirt and gave me a wicked smile. “Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” He pulled the shirt over his body and sauntered back to his buddies. CHAPTER 3 The silos, as we called them, were actually warehouses. Twelve of them to be exact. They sat on a forgotten corner of the base surrounded by a single tall fence topped with barbed wire. This was my empire of rust. Although I conducted sporadic inventories of the newly acquired stuff, half of these building housed equipment from well before the military was organized enough to track each piece. The first few years of the war had been a chaotic time. My biggest fear was leadership demanding I do a full inventory of everything. I couldn’t imagine how long that would take. These places rivaled the scale and density of the giant cavernous warehouse in Indiana Jones. Each building was half the size of a football field. But it was my job to manage the place and my staff of six took turns guarding it around the clock in twelve hour shifts. I wheeled up in my military issued Silverado and looked inside the guardhouse for Airman Lewis, buy found the guardhouse empty. Probably patrolling the interior, I thought as I walked into the shgack and grabbed the spare hand radio. “Airman Lewis, this is Lieutenant Kane. Do you copy?” There was a static pause but Lewis’s voice eventually made it over the receiver. “Sir, I copy.” He sounded breathless. “Mark location,” I said in reply. “Uh…silo four.” “Copy, I’ll meet you there.” I badged myself into the gate and walked over to silo four. He was at the building’s front door when I arrived. “Sir?” he asked a little too innocently. Sure enough, he was out of breath and trying to hide it, which only made the gasps more obvious. “What’s going on?” I asked. “Oh,” he said, diverting his eyes from mine. “I’m just cleaning up a corner where some stuff fell over.” I looked at him, knowing he was up to something. There wasn’t much to do, though. The outside of the silos was littered with cameras so I’d know if he took anything. Also, any keys, ammo, activation switches, or anything else that could actually turn this rusty shit into a weapon was in a safe only I knew the combination for. I decided to let it slide. “So why isn’t Whitaker here?” I asked gravely. Lewis actually brightened. “Because I felt bad he had to take two watches for something as innocent as calling me skinny.” “That’s not the only thing he’s standing the watch for,” I said, reminded of the comments he made of me and Dasa. “Besides, it’s not your call whether he’s punished or not.” Lewis dropped his eyes. Although he was hiding something, my senses told me he actually DID want to stand the watch. I let it go, knowing that it was probably a mistake. It had been a long week and I was tired. So I just looked Lewis and nodded. “Fine. Take the watch.” Then I turned and left for my dorm room. CHAPTER 4 Monday came after an otherwise inconsequential weekend. Whitaker was still a problem but now I had my Master Sergeant back and could let him handle the asshole. Lewis stood the watch as promised and didn’t have to show up until Tuesday, allowing him to adjust his sleep pattern back to normal. He seemed in remarkably good cheer when he strolled in. Everything was back to normal. During my second month in Kuwait, I gained another three pounds without putting on any noticeable fat. I had to remind myself this was a marathon, not a race. I wasn’t new to working out so understood progress would be a slow grind. Three pounds a month was actually pretty good. I saw Lewis at the gym a couple days after that first weekend, skinny as a rail and as awkward with the weights as a one legged dancer. He was surprisingly ripped for such a slender guy. I gave him a few pointers and found he was a quick learner. By the end of the session he had the basics down and I was shocked to see a sizeable pump on him. He started complaining about hunger a mere thirty minutes into the workout so I cut mine short and joined him at the Dining Facility. The boy put me to shame when it came to eating: I ate a lot but this kid was downright offensive with how much he shoved into his mouth. Stuffed beyond reason I got up and left him to his forth helping, giving him a quick pat on the back before heading out. “Nice work,” I said as I left. “Thanks,” he said shyly around a mouthful of eggs. I saw him again a couple days later, this time with a group of three friends of similar age from other commands. I wouldn’t have thought it possible but he’d managed to find friends smaller than him. Actually, Lewis may have put on a few pounds himself. Although still skinny his frame had some definite shape to it. Well, he had two things going for him: he was nineteen and he was just starting. Initial gains would be rapid. He noticed me notice him and his face strangely reddened. I gave him a thumbs up but let him be. Then I stopped seeing him at the gym altogether. After a couple weeks, I found him at lunch wolfing down his food as usual. “You quit the gym?” I asked as I walked by. I didn’t want to ask at the office as I didn’t want to give Whitaker any additional cannon fodder. Lewis shook his head, the muscles in his jaw flaring under the skin of his cheek as he chewed. “I’ve been going late at night. Gym’s pretty empty then,” he said between bites. The muscles in his narrow neck flared as he swallowed. Fuck, I thought to myself. Where did that vascularity come from? I looked at the back of his hands, the only other skin visible outside the confines of his baggy uniform. Veins laced across the back of his hands like spider webs. Curious. He reached down, seemingly not noticing he was doing so, and massaged the top of his boot. “Injure your foot?” I asked. He shook his head again. “I think my boots are too small,” he offered. I barked a laugh. “You’ve been in theater for six weeks and have been suffering small boots this whole time?” His face reddened further but he gave a slight nod. “Well what size are they?” I asked. “Nine and a half,” he said meekly. “Okay,” I said. “I’ll have Sergeant Meyer order you some tens.” I started to walk past him with my tray off food. “Can you make it elevens?” he asked my back. I turned to him, doubtful he’d been sporting boots a size and a half too small this whole time. “You can get whatever size you want as long as they fit. How about you work with Meyer yourself. Have him measure your feet. I’ll tell him he’s got authority to buy you a pair.” Lewis nodded gratefully. “You start your midwatch shifts tonight right?” I asked. Lewis responded with another food-filled nod. “Ok, well I guess I won’t see you this week. Take care of those boots but otherwise, I’ll see you next Monday.” Lewis nodded again and I left. The team rotated their watches on a weekly basis to minimize messing with their sleep cycles too often. As common sense dictated, standing a twelve hour watch over night meant you didn’t have to work days in the office. A few days later I ran by the Tech Sergeant Meyer in the hallway. “You get Lewis his shoes?” I asked as I walked by. “Yes sir,” he replied. “Thanks for taking care of the measurement,” I continued. “He was asking for size elevens. Can you believe it?” Meyer shrugged. “No I can’t, sir.” I left it at that and kept walking by the man but he said something as my shoulder passed his. “I had to get him twelves.” I stopped in my tracks. “Twelves?” I asked, incredulous. Meyer just nodded. “Boy’s got big feet,” he said simply. I felt my brows furrow. “You mean to tell me that poor boy went through more than a month here with boots that were over two sizes too small?” Meyer shrugged again as if there was nothing unusual about it. “Guess so.” I gave a distracted “thanks again” and continued on with my day. Something tickled the back of my mind; too many things just weren’t adding up. The next Monday, I walked in the office to find Lewis already sitting at his computer. The prior week had been busy and I’d since pushed any curiosity of Lewis’s condition to the back of my mind. I grunted a good morning as I sifted through the paperwork that gathered up during the weekend. Lewis offered a “good morning” back without looking up from his computer. His voice sounded funny, as if he had a cold. We were all busy and generally kept to ourselves those next few days. It wasn’t until late in the week the oddness surrounding Lewis roared back to the front of my mind. He stood behind the Whitaker next to the copy machine, waiting for his turn to scan some documents. I looked up just as Whitaker turned and without looking ran smack into Lewis, whose head was down reading. I grimaced, expecting poor Lewis to go sprawling backwards, flinging fifty sheets of paper across the room in the process. But that didn’t happen. If anything, Whitaker was the one who bounced back; Lewis merely looked up with his mouth open in surprise. Suddenly things that I’d missed the whole week became clear in unison. The most obvious thing was that Lewis was TALLER than Whitaker by a good inch. I could have sworn he was a good four inches shorter. Whitaker seemed to notice this as well; his face was a mask of confusion covering a boiling fury. My first sergeant had put the fear of god in him last week so he kept his mouth shut. But I could see the gears turning. Lewis actually gulped and it was then I noticed how muscular his neck was. It didn’t match Whitaker’s, who’s neck was wider than his head, but I could see individual muscles flex and veins writhe as Lewis swallowed. No one else in the office seemed to notice save the three of us. Every time I looked up at Whitaker, he was staring at Lewis, studying him. Lewis didn’t say another word and was still sitting hunched over his computer when I left that evening. He was munching on one of the chicken breasts he had brought from lunch. The next day, the AC went out again, making the office into a furnace within the hour. I gave everyone permission to deblouse again. Everyone did immediately, sweat already staining their undershirts; all except for Lewis who remained fully dressed over his computer. He must have been miserable. I dropped any attempt at stealthy glances and finally really looked at the young airman. The camouflage uniform made it nearly impossible to know the shape of the person wearing it but…wait a minute. I looked closely at the area under his armpit and saw that the fabric that normally hung loose on people was actually pulled tight. Holy shit…this kid had lats. Big ones. I glanced over to Whitaker for a comparison. Already debloused, his lats pressed firmly against the thin cotton undershirt, the individual bulges of muscle rippling down his side. Looking back and forth, Lewis was narrower but had the same v-shape. I felt myself grow hard at the thought of what Lewis hid beneath his blouse and made it my mission to find out. But he didn’t make it easy. I caught him that night at dinner, where I sat with my usual retinue, Dasa among them. Most people changed into civilian clothes for the evening meal. It’s what made Lewis so easy to spot as he was one of the few still in his uniform. He sat with three others, each dressed in gym clothes. Apparently, he’d ditched the wimp brigade I last saw him with; the three surrounding him now each looked like fitness models. Their shirts were almost comically tight across narrowly muscular upper bodies. I put each of them at about the same height and weight as me but with practically zero bodyfat, making the difference between their bodies and mine leagues apart. I saw Lewis glance over at me and I waved. He waved back with an awkward smile and quickly picked up three Styrofoam boxes sitting next to him. Those were filled with what I only guessed were Dinner numbers two, three, and four. He stood and said something to his friends, then left. The fucker was avoiding me. Unfortunate for him, I was his boss. The next day I counted down the hours to closing time, sneaking glances at Lewis the whole time. Impossibly, he was even bigger today. You didn’t even have to try hard to see his back was pressing firmly across the whole of his uniform. Even his upper arms seemed to modestly fill the void of the uniforms incredibly baggy sleeve. His traps, once flat now rose with an obvious crest to his neck. The rest of the office was finally taking notice something was up too. Corporal Janelle Peterson, one of my two Army personnel, was the first to speak up. “Look at that neck,” she bellowed. “You been working out, Lewis?” “A little,” Lewis said, not taking his eyes from his computer. His voice had grown noticeably deeper the last couple weeks. “Pssht, a little?” She reached over and grabbed the sleeve of his uniform, giving it a quick squeeze before he had a chance to shake him of. “Take it easy, Lewis,” she said as she pulled her hand back. She gave the other female in the room, Staff Sergeant Miller, a wide-eyed stare and mouthed “wow” to her. She grabbed her own bicep and made a motion of it swelling as if to say “his biceps are huge.” Now both females looked at his back with hungry eyes. Whitaker had known something was up the whole time but said nothing. I could see anger in his face at not being the center of the ladies’ lust. I was pretty sure he had slept with both. I dismissed the team fifteen minutes early but called Lewis into my office as he was trying to leave. After making sure the others left, I turned to the airman standing before me. He wrung his surprisingly large hands nervously. “Close the door,” I said, still seated behind my desk. I’d been thinking about this moment all day but found myself just running on unplanned instinct. I decided to cut to the chase. “Take off your blouse.” Lewis’s face reddened and his jaw worked. It was more squared than it was a month ago. “Sir?” he stammered. “You heard me, Lewis,” knowing I was treading on some thin ice here. I was at risk of sexual assault here if I pushed too hard but I was desperate. “Please.” Extremely reluctantly, Lewis tore at the Velcro revealing the zipper of his blouse. He zipped it down slowly at first but then with increasing speed. Once undone, he practically ripped the garment off his body, revealing the undershirted body beneath. I nearly fainted.
  3. 36 points
  4. 34 points
  5. 33 points
    So on a day away from family, friends, internet, and work, I had an impulse to write a story for the first time in years. I didn’t get out of my chair until I finished the eighth chapter. I’ve got a few more chapters to go I think, but I feel confident I’ll have the entire story posted (in pretty regular intervals) within the month. Fair warning, (1) it takes a couple chapters before the real growth starts and (2) it’s got some hetero content in it. I hope you all enjoy… CHAPTER 1 I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow and sighed as I resumed the email I’d been writing. Fans hummed throughout the room but only made the hot air feel the devil’s own breath. I reached down to my lapel and gave my blouse a shake. Fuck these uniforms, I thought for the hundredth time. What’s the use blending into the desert if you’re dead of heat exhaustion? I looked out the door to my office at my staff, each dutifully working at their respective cubicles, knowing they were equally miserable. “Whoever decided to install shitty AC units in the middle of a god damn desert country needs to be drug out into the street and shot,” Staff Sergeant Whitaker said as he dramatically wiped sweat from his muscular neck. That desert country was Kuwait and those shitty AC units were probably top-of-the-line twenty years ago when these buildings were originally constructed. I decided to let Whitaker’s outburst slide; lord knows he’d be guilty of another at some point that day. Not for the first time, I wondered at the strangeness of this group. Myself, a navy lieutenant, in charge of four air force and two army enlisted men of varying ranks; a regular kumbaya commercial showing how the US armed services could work together. Each of us were at varying (but mostly early) months of one year tours at a Kuwaiti Air base where the United States oversaw its assets in the entire Middle East. It was a large base, housing about five thousand NATO personnel, most of which were from the US. I had been pulled unceremoniously from my normal navy career path to “support” joint efforts…the navy’s diplomatic way of saying “we can play in the desert and kill terrorists too!” I chuckled. I didn’t see myself killing any terrorists today. I was more likely to get a papercut. What my staff and I were actually responsible for was all confiscated foreign assets from the decades of wars we’d fought in this region. This meant supervising a dozen warehouses filled with the tanks, trucks, and weapons confiscated from Iraqi, Syrian, or terrorist organizations. We intended to hold it until peace broke out or something…then we’d return it. In practice, I was the overlord of a pile of rusty shit that wasn’t going anywhere fast. I wiped another bead of sweat from my forehead. Fuck it, I thought before saying: “Okay everyone, feel free to de-blouse.” A collective “yaaaaayyyy” went through the room and my team immediately tore off the heavy camo-print over-shirts (aka blouse) that made up the standard military OCP uniform, leaving them in their mud brown undershirts. My eyes immediately and covertly darted to Staff Sergeant Whitaker. Goddam, I thought as he threw his blouse onto the floor as if it was a pile of shit. His undershirt, darkened by sweat, was plastered to a body made of bulging muscle. I could see the striations in his shoulders dance as he returned to typing on his computer. Dinner plate sized pecs stretched the shirt comically over visible blocks of abdominal muscles. Those globular shoulders, bulging like pumpkins under short sleeves screaming for mercy, sat above the most beautiful upper arms I had ever seen in my life. Full and swollen yet cut and hard. A single bulging vein laced down the front of each one, bunching up each time he bent his elbow. God, they were perfect. I couldn’t wait to build a set of those myself. An isolated US Air Base in the middle of a desert country left little to do, leaving its inhabitants with a small set of options: work, eat, sleep, workout, or fuck. And all five options were in ample and endless supply. I noticed it the day I landed, almost everyone walking around the base was exceptionally fit, men and women alike. In the month since, I still wasn’t bored noticing the tight and taught bodies working out in the gym or walking by when civilian attire was authorized. I’d already made some progress. Always obsessed with fitness, I landed here a pretty fit 180 pounds. At 5’11, that doesn’t make me huge but people who saw me knew I worked out. In the month since, I’d gained three pounds. Certainly not something to write home about but if I kept that up for the next eleven months I’d be heading home weighing a ripped 215 pounds. That was, not coincidentally, Whitaker’s height and weight. I took another look at the Staff Sergeant, who now had his hands clasped together and arms stretched above his head. His lats bulged like wings under those beautiful arms. Striated horseshoe triceps flared as he gave one last good stretch and lowered his arms. He turned his head. “Jesus fucking Christ, Lewis,” he said in his testosterone laden voice. “You got your head suck on a scarecrow?” My eyes darted over to the subject of Whitaker’s comment, Airmen Lewis, my newest and most junior staff member. The nineteen-year-old was on his first overseas deployment and showed up only two weeks ago. My guess is he was 5’7 and couldn’t weigh more than 135 pounds. His brown undershirt hung loosely on a shrunken body, his twiggy arms void of shape or definition. Until now, his diminutiveness had been hidden under the baggy and ungainly blouse we’d just removed. The OCPs wore like pillow sacks on everyone whether fit, fat, skinny, or what have you. Even Whitaker’s body didn’t look exceptional when wearing the uniform…if one ignored his impressive bull neck. “Cool it Whitaker,” I said sternly from over my computer screen. I meant it too. I can both appreciate the guy’s body and completely loath his personality…which I did. The Staff Sergeant was a bona fide bully, always making every effort to cross the line if there was one to cross. “But look at him, sir,” Whitaker said and gestured to the airman with his paw of a hand. “Dude,” he continued as he turned back to Lewis. “How the fuck did you make it through basic?” “Knock it off!” I said loud enough to make Whitaker involuntarily cringe. “Fucking beta,” I heard him whisper to Lewis. I saw Lewis’s face redden and was about to formally council his bully when a female voice chimed into the room. “Hey guys,” the voice said to the room as it made its way to my office. Air Force Captain Dasa White turned into my office and smiled when she saw me. “Hey there sailor,” she said. “Hey Dasa,” I said as blandly as I could to the hottest female this base had to offer. This was not my opinion, it was fact. Captain White was gorgeous and she knew it. Her blond hair was pulled back into a tight bun that only accentuated her wide smile. Her blue eyes sparkled at me. I tried to avoid looking down as she too had debloused and sported only the brown undershirt that somehow hugged her well developed and femininely muscular body in all the right spots. Did she have those tailored? She was within a year or two of my own twenty-eight years, our ranks being equivalent, so we usually called each other by our first names instead of the more formal rank. “You up on the high side?” she asked. “I am,” I responded and shifted my computer screen to the military’s SECRET level internet. She invited herself to my side of the desk, leaned over my left side, and took over my mouse and keyboard. Her toned shoulder brushed lightly against my face as her tan arms did their work. She smelled of faint and distant perfume. Her breast rubbed against my arm just once as she reached for the mouse. God, she knew was she was doing and she was good at it. But I didn’t push it any further. Over the last month I’d given her both subtle and not so subtle hints that I was incredibly interested in her but she’d kindly and just as subtly rebuffed every advance. I’d noticed during that time she was only truly interested in the really muscular guys. I don’t think even Whitaker was big enough. She tastefully flirted with everyone but he’d only seen her mean it when the guy was at least 6’3 and 230. And there were plenty of those types around here. “Look at this,” she said once done with my computer. I looked at the screen and the first thing I noticed was the grainy picture in the middle of the screen. It looked like a still from a shitty security camera but in it was a group of about one hundred men, all obviously Arabic by their faces, naked from the waist up and wearing military fatigues from the waist down. It was immediately apparent the men were huge. Grainy as it was, they were as broad and wide and vascular as any professional bodybuilder. An old Iraqi flag hung over their heads and some Arabic script was imprinted on the bottom of the photo. “Iraqi bodybuilders?” I asked innocently, trying to make light of a picture which definitely had my attention. “Bodybuilders?” she asked back with incredulity dripping from the word. “Look at the rifles they’re holding.” I was embarrassed to note I was so taken by these men’s bodies that I had missed that each of them held an AK-47 in front of them. Well… they looked like AKs but something wasn’t right about them. “Are those toy guns?” I asked without taking my eyes off the picture. It took a bit to put my finger on what was wrong but I finally noticed the guns were too small. “No Alex. They’re real,” she said, letting me put the puzzle pieces together myself. “But that would mean…” My mouth dropped. She nodded, her perfect smile broadening. “My guess is those guys are eight feet tall.” “No fucking way,” I said but the more I looked at the picture the more I had to believe it. It wasn’t just the guns. These men were lined up on bleachers that looked a little too small. The doorway cut in half by the edge of the picture looked too small. Everything looked to small next to these guys. “It has to be a fake,” I said finally. “Look at the file name,” she said. I minimized the picture and looked at the folder she had open. “Saddam’s Supermen,” I read aloud. My heart fluttered a bit. “But that’s just a bullshit rumor.” The rumor apparently originated during the Iraqi invasion of 2003. I was a middle schooler at the time of that invasion so wasn’t around to hear it at the beginning but the story still cropped up jokingly in small circles from time-to-time. Who knows now much the current rumor had changed from the original one. Regardless, the version I heard stated that Saddam Hussein was obsessed with turning his famed million-man army into super soldiers capable of taking over the entire region. The rumor also suggested that we’d invaded Iraq back then because these supermen were the ACTUAL weapons of mass destruction we were desperate to take off their hands. “I guess you could call these giants weapons of mass destruction,” I said aloud with a laugh. “Hell yes you could,” she said, her eyes glued to the screen. “It would take an entire magazine to take one of those beasts down.” I looked at the folder from which she pulled the photo. It and the slew of parent folders housing it gave no indication a photo of supermen was to be found. “How did you find this?” “By accident,” she said simply. “I get bored on the watch floor and like to surf the web so-to-speak. There’s probably millions of files scattered in the guts of our SIPR servers and as unorganized as those warehouses you’re responsible for. I’m probably the first to stumble across that picture since it was first dropped there.” “Are there any more?” She shook her head. “Believe me, I tried. There could be. Finding a specific photo here is like trying to find a needle in a haystack.” Her eyes were still locked on the photo and were hungry. She liked what she was looking at. “You think they’re still around?” she asked. “Doubtful,” I said, shrugging. “I think people would raise an eyebrow if guys like this found their way into Abu Ghraib.” “Hm,” she muttered, nodding before shaking herself. “Anyway,” she concluded. “Thought you’d be interested.” She gave me a knowing wink that confused me but I willed the confusion away. “I’m heading to the gym. Dinner at six?” “Yeah,” I said as she turned to leave. I saw the heads of my team all snap to their screens in comic unison as she walked by and headed to the door. Their heads then bent to get a final shot of her backside as she walked through the door and shut it behind her. I couldn’t blame them, she was the only one I knew who could make those thick baggy uniform pants look good. The door was barely shut before Whitaker clapped his hands together loudly. “Ooooh, sir,” he said, a broad smile cracking his square head. “You gonna fuck that tonight.” He moved his hand as if slapping an invisible ass. The rest of the room looked shocked at the outburst. Proper military decorum was more than a bit dulled in a forward base like this one but there were certain lines that one did not cross. Sexual references of an officer was one of them. I slapped my hand on the table loudly. “That’s it, Staff Sergeant,” I bellowed and spoke to the broader room. “I don’t know who has the midnight watches on the silos this weekend, but you can thank Whitaker for taking them off your hands.” Whitaker’s face dropped. “But sir.” “Both of them,” I said over his objections. I looked at the time on my computer. 4:30 pm. Close enough, I thought as I felt another bead of sweat drip down my back. “Ok everyone. Close up shop,” I said, ignoring Whitaker’s sputtering. “See you all on Monday, when the AC is hopefully working again.” The team rushed out as if on fire, readily escaping the hundred-degree heat. I yelled after Whitaker before he made his way out the door. “Your first watch starts in thirty minutes Whitaker. Be. On. Time!” He grunted as he walked out. I spied Lewis close behind him. “Wait one, Airman Lewis.” Lewis lowered his head as if struck, turned, and begrudgingly made his way into my office. “Shut the door,” I said as gently as I could. Lewis did so and sat across the desk from me. His face was youthful even for nineteen. Sandy blond hair was tightly cut to his head. His narrow face was pale (unusual for desert dwellers) and blemish free. Bright blue eyes stared at me with apprehension. “I’m going to address what Staff Sergeant said with the Master Sergeant.” Master Sergeant Reeves was my second in command and the senior enlisted leader of my staff. It was technically his job to quell personal issues like this but he was on a trip to Afghanistan until Monday. “Don’t bother, sir,” the Airman said. “Master Sergeant is on him every day and it hasn’t done much.” The boy shrugged. “Besides, he’s right. I’m skinny. I’ve tried to bulk up since I’ve gotten here but I think I’ve actually lost weight.” “Eat,” I advised. “I have a fast metabolism too but the food here is free and you can get as much as you want. You should leave every meal stuffed to the gills.” Lewis just nodded. His eyes flickering to my computer screen and his jaw dropped. “Wow,” he said at the monsters in the photograph. “You think that’s real?” he asked. I turned my eyes back to the picture. “Could be,” I said noncommittally before continuing. “I’m no superman in the gym, Lewis, but I can give you some pointers in that arena if you like.” Lewis shook his head, his eyes remaining on my computer screen. “Thank you, sir, but no. I can take care of myself.” “I’m sure you can,” I said, removing my access card from the computer, sending the screen dark. Lewis shook his head as if breaking out of a trance. I grabbed my blouse and began putting it on. “You coming?” I asked as I made my way to the door. Lewis followed but broke towards his own desk instead of following me out the room. “If you don’t mind, sir,” he said awkwardly. “I have some work I forgot to finish.” “Suit yourself,” I said and gave the room a once over to ensure no classified material was left out in the open. Finding none, I walked out. Looking over my shoulder upon leaving, I saw Lewis back on his own computer, the picture of Saddam’s Supermen sitting boldly in its center.
  6. 32 points
    *Another commission piece! I really love writing and nothing is off limits. If interested, just send a DM* He looked down at the New Year’s Eve party invitation, reading it once more before angrily crumpling the paper in hand. As his gaze flicked back up towards the reflection of the scranny scarecrow staring back at him, he was slightly amazed he could even do that. All his life Ben had felt skinny and small, but now with the oversized costume swimming awkwardly off his diminutive frame, he not only felt and looked pathetic but weak as well. With a sigh, Ben shook his head as he let the crumpled up wad fall from his hand. He hadn’t wanted to go to the holiday party anyways, cringing the moment he had heard it was going to be superhero and villain themed. Not even for a second had he entertained the idea of wearing spandex, and unfortunately he had waited so long that this was the only costume Amazon had left. Ben snarled in disgust as the tank top that was meant to cling tightly across his chest, hung practically to his waist. He lifted up one of the way too clunky boots, while acknowledging the fact that the pants were so baggy, he would be hoisting them up all night. The most annoying part of the costume however, was the leather bands that should have strained around a set of powerful bis. Instead, they constantly slid down his toothpick arms to his wrists, where they threatened to fall off --because even his hands were just way too small. The black and white mask didn’t quite lay right either. Maybe it was because his jaw wasn’t squared off enough, or because he hadn’t shaved his head. Either way, there was nothing he could do. Ben shrugged before looking over at the clock on his nightstand. A second later he attached the heavy utility belt around his slight waist. If he didn’t hurry, he knew he was going to miss seeing the ball drop. Unfortunately though, he just wasn’t sure how exactly he was going to walk, since the belt kept trying to slip down both of his legs. “Fuck it!” Ben yelled and began rolling the mask back off. But with another heavy sigh he stopped midway and grabbed up the clear tube off his bed. He didn’t know why, but he attached it to the back of his head before placing his hands into the oversized gloves. Ben shook his head as he looked in the mirror. The reviews had claimed the outfit was ‘true to size’ but clearly the factory had gotten something with the sizing charts wrong. He had ordered a medium, but clearly this was a two or maybe even a three XL. It’s not exactly like he could exchange it now, in the morning he would send the costume back and write up his own honest review. He paced back and forth for an eternity, internally debating with himself whether or not he should go. Ben knew a few people might laugh at him, and certainly he wouldn’t be winning any of the most-realistic awards. But the most disappointing part would be when the clock struck midnight and he had nobody to kiss. Finding himself in front of the mirror again, Ben looked down at the large dial on his wrist. He chuckled slightly as he brought it closer, not that he would ever want to look like the extreme versions of Bane he had seen on the internet, but if only it could deliver just a little bit of growth. Ben turned the dial to ‘on’ and held his breath… He gave it a little tap. Switched the dial off and then back on. In his frustration he even checked to see if it needed batteries, but of course, nothing happened. Glancing over his shoulder at the alarm clock again, a bright red eleven fifty-nine glared back in his face. He shook his head and sat down on the edge of the bed. Another year of being alone, another year of being a loser. With only a minute to go, 2019 was sure to be just as depressing and uneventful as the last. He flipped the television on in time to see the final seconds to the countdown. The crowds were filled with happy people, the anchor man and woman looking like they’d had a little too much to drink. It was around the ten second mark when Ben began feeling nauseous. His head fell heavily into his hands before he completely fell off the bed. A shrill like scream forcing its way past his lips. He swore his eyes were going to bulge out of his head from the pain, it felt like a knife was being inserted into the base of his skull. “Nine, eight...” Ben placed his hands on the floor as he tried to keep himself propped up while catching his breath. It was then that he noticed a neon green sludge pumping up through the previously clear tubing attached to his arm and the back of his head. His hands extended, thick fingers digging and scratching into the wood grain. Ben frantically grabbed for the cranial tube and when it wouldn’t come loose he tried to rip off the mask. It was barely noticeable at first, the slight tingling sensation that spread down his neck and back and out to the rest of his limbs. He brought his arms down in front of him again, stretching out his fingers before curling them into a fist. As he did so he watched as the veins in his scrawny forearms pulsed and plumped before changing to the same neon color pumping into his brain. It was around seven seconds when it suddenly hit, like a fucking brick wall did it hit. Ben’s chest and arms began to spasm, his head flinging back as every muscle in his body flexed and strained involuntarily. “What the fuck is happening to me?” he screamed. His whole body felt so alive, so powerful. He looked in the mirror, watching in horror as his chest heaved in and out. Sweat poured from his body as beads rolled down his forehead and neck. It seemed impossible at first, but as he continued to stare at his reflection, Ben could see that with each beat of his heart he was actually growing. “Six, five…” As more and more of the bright green liquid pumped into him, Ben grew worried. His body seemed to be transforming right in front of his eyes. His chest pushed forward, his arms grew larger, his legs thickened with muscle as well. The vein pulsing down the side of his neck was engorged and throbbing beyond anything Ben had ever seen before. “What-- what the fuck is going on?” His voice trembled. His hands flew frantically to his face as he tried to rip the mask off. He could feel himself growing more angry, more powerful but the fabric wouldn’t budge. Ben began wrestling with himself, his growing body ramming into the mirror as his hands tugged at the mask. A few droplets of blood fell to the ground along with the shattered glass, but this only seemed to make the venom kick into overdrive, pulsing into his bloodstream even more. “No! No more!” Ben threw his head back and roared. His growing arm shoving his dresser a few feet in frustration as the serum only continued to pump into his brain. He watched as the black tank top began to strain across two enormous, veiny pecs. His feet seemed to be growing too-- wider, longer, his toes and calves straining against the leather. Slamming one of his insanely powerful legs down, Bane, no Ben smiled as a floor board cracked under the weight. Ben growled as he gripped the mask with his growing fingers. “Arrrgh!!” His voice dropped in octave, or no. Maybe it had always been this deep. “NO!” Ben shook his head. This wasn’t him, this didn’t look like him either. But the growth-- fuck! It felt so good. He turned to the bed, squatting down and lifting it with a single hand. “Rargh! Fuck yes!” he roared, his growl so guttural and deep, it reverberated off the walls. He tossed the bed up and flipped it into the wall. As he looked at the splintered wood laying by his booted feet, Ben raised his enormous arms into the air, holding them up before flexing a double bi. He looked at his arms in amazement. His forearms and biceps were huge already, but still growing larger. The bluish veins throbbed as they crisscrossed over taut skin. With one swift motion, Ben ripped the tv off the wall before sending it flying across the room. The force caused the drywall to crack from floor to the ceiling and for a moment Ben liked the idea of his insanely growing power. The realization that he was growing so inhumanly strong excited him more. That same realization suddenly turned to fear. It scared him that he couldn’t control it, terrified him even more that he actually liked it. His hands flew up to his neck in a final attempt to free himself of the mask. He clawed violently at his face, could actually feel his fingernails digging into the soft skin. But nothing he tried worked. He slammed his head repeatedly up against the mirror, the blow immediately causing the bones in his face to break. He could hear the roar from the crowd as they continued to count down, ”Four, three, two...” Ben reeled back from the pain, grabbing at his nose and jaw. But the venom instantly began changing it too. In the mirror he could see how his jaw was growing more square, his chin jutting out. His nose widened even as his brow grew more prominent. His eyebrows, though he couldn’t see them, he could sense were more bushy too. All the while something else began creeping and taking up residence inside his brain. “One.” Ben-- no! Bane smiled as he looked at his much larger reflection in the cracked mirror. He had grown substantially. His head nearly as tall as the frame holding the glass, his shoulders practically just as wide. A smirk drew across his lips though as he looked down at his wrist. The big man chuckled deeply as he held the glove up to his face before turning the dial to ‘MAX’. Almost immediately his body convulsed as he fell to his knees, large craters forming underneath his powerful legs. Bane tried not to scream as his body expanded. He was becoming thicker from the venom, muscles blowing up with so much mass and power. He panted and moaned as his big hands pawed the length of his own body. The pain soon turned to pleasure and a loud, erotic groan tumbled from his plump and drooling lips. “Fuck this always feels so good!” His laughter deepened even more as his muscles seemed to crawl and explode across his frame, taking on a life of their own. Immense, ballooning pecs jutted out from his chest. The tank top that had formerly been too large, now struggled to contain him. Every bulge, every striation rippling underneath the tight fabric. Bane continued to smile as he flexed his biceps, concentrating on straining the leather cuffs that were wrapped tightly around each one. His quads and calves were swelling up too, he flexed each one larger and harder till the laces on his boots finally snapped and the fabric of his pants could stretch no more. His head turned slightly as he began to hear the loud booming of fireworks just outside his door. In a matter of moments he had been transformed into a roided up freak. His massive frame beyond that of any super heavyweight professional bodybuilder to ever live. And still he wasn’t done. “Yes, more! MORE! Make me unstoppable!” He roared. As the neon liquid pumped into his veins, his chest exploded outward first. Once full of impossible power the rest of his body followed suit. His neck muscled up next, thick around as a telephone pole. His legs, already humongous with mass, swelled out even more as liquid muscle pumped into his quads. He could feel every vein, every fibre just bursting with inconceivable power. His arms grew heavier as they packed on even more mass. So much brawn bulging out of them, his fucking biceps split, giving his monstrous peak another peak! His shoulders suddenly surged outward with their own growth and as Bane looked down he realized he was horrifically broad. His traps surged upwards next, devouring his neck and growing so beefy they nearly touched his ears. These muscular explosions continued to rock his body, each muscle group consuming the venom before hulking out with more and more power. Bane growled as he slowly stood, a hulking beast raising to his full height. At nearly seven feet he stood tall and proud, meaty fists clenched, pecs bouncing slightly with each inhale and exhale of breath. He looked in the mirror, now having to bend slightly in order to fully inspect his masked face. His chest puffed out, arms so thick and wide they were unable to lay straight against his flaring lats. Biceps fought for prominence against his immense pec shelf, forearms so large, they could put a lumberjack to shame. “Fuck. I’m so huge. So fucking immense!” The words were spoken with such raw intensity, the deep boom rattling against the walls like thunder. The striated muscles and veins in his neck and chest throbbed with incredible power. He looked down at his heavily muscled arms grunting slightly as he brought his meaty hand down into the middle of his dresser. Bane laughed again as the heavy wood easily shattered on impact. As his impossibly strong hand tossed half of the dresser behind him, Bane’s eyes widened and his cock began to stir. He was getting so turned on by his strength and power. He strutted over to the front door, his feet easily pulverizing the destruction of what remained of his bedroom underneath his heavy, snug fitting boots. As he tugged the door accidentally off the frame, he held it above his head before ripping it in half. A huge, angry erection strained against the zipper of his pants, grapefruit sized balls slapping between his beefy thighs. He was so big, so fucking indestructible. Ducking down and turning to the side, Bane growled in frustration as his body scrapped against the door frame. As the wood finally cracked and gave way, Bane flashed a malicious smile as he stepped out into the dark night. He could feel his cock stretching the fabric of his pants more and more with every step. He was so damned horny, he could smell his own lust. He turned his head towards the fireworks flashing in the sky. It was time to have a little fun and force someone into servicing this big, powerful body.
  7. 30 points
    Latest pages! http://www.patreon.com/gymjunkiemuscle
  8. 28 points
    “What is this again?” I asked as we pulled back the colorful curtains shrouding the door. “It’s a Resolution booth. Or some kind of psychic. Or something… I don’t really know, but everyone here is doing it and it looks like fun.” Jake flipped his 2019-shaped glasses up on his head and brushed some confetti off of his beefy bare torso. The New Year just rang in, and everyone at the party was lining up to start their resolutions early. We weren’t at a shirtless-themed party, but Jake had a tendency of ripping off whatever was covering his shredded 220 lb. frame after a few drinks. Walking into the dark, candle-lit room was a staggering contrast from the glittery disco lights and loud music from behind us. Inside, couples and friends were huddled around little round tables, quietly laughing and scribbling notes on small sheets of paper. A sign on the wall hung above a cubby station with stacks of blank sheets and pencils, saying: RESOLUTION BOOTH: WRITE DOWN THREE RESOLUTIONS, FOLD THE PAPER TWICE, AND SEE MME. RÊVE BEFORE YOU LEAVE KEEP YOUR RESOLUTIONS SECRET! Not wasting a moment, maybe still a little buzzed, Jake ran forward like an excited schoolkid and grabbed a handful of supplies. “This is perfect man,” he said smiling, heading towards an empty writing table. “It’s not a New Year unless you make commitments to make yourself better. What are your resolutions going to be this year?” I rolled my eyes, taking a pencil from him. “The sign literally says to keep your resolutions secret. And it doesn’t really matter—everyone forgets about these things before February anyway.” Jake shook his head. “Not me man. I’m committing this year. I’m going to cut down on the booze and really get to work on finishing my 8-pack.” Jake started eagerly scribbling stuff down right away. Looking down at my own paper though, it looked so white and empty. How do people like Jake come up with these things so easily? I didn’t even know where to begin. All things considered, I was pretty happy with Jake as my stereotypical jockey roommate, and I actually had a pretty wholesome, productive year. Still drawing a blank, I began to wonder, no one but me will ever actually see this, right? This whole thing is a bit of a joke, so why write down anything serious? Why not shoot for the moon? Or the dark side of the moon? Smirking a little, I quickly jotted three quick bullet points down. I will eat, lift, and grow nonstop, packing on more muscle and growing bigger every single day. I will have mindblowing sex with my roommate over and over, growing more fucking virile and horny for him each time. I will be an unrecognizable, insatiable muscle fuck-beast by the end of this year. “Let me see it!” Jake said suddenly, making a lunging swipe for my paper. Totally caught off-guard, my heart lunged in my chest as he pushed his naked torso up against me, trying to grab it from my hand. Fuck he was so strong too—wrestling with him was like trying to fend off a massive, roided out animal. ‘Oh God, he can never NEVER see this,’ my mind screamed. He was clearly still a little inebriated though, and after struggling with him for a few seconds he quickly tripped over his own weight and knocked over the table. The papers fluttered through the air as a few people gasped. Not taking any chances, I swiped the paper from the carpet before Jake even realized he was on the ground. “Haha, nice try Jake. My resolutions are sealed for the year,” I said, putting it out of his reach and folding the paper. Jake was a big guy, but being religious gym partners with him, I was almost neck-to-neck with his own mass and could fend him off well enough when he was tipsy enough. “Mmmmfff…” he grunted, grinning as he hauled himself up. “Well, I guess I’ll get you next year. Those gains in the gym have been paying off for you.” Looking around the ground for a minute, he found his own paper and folded it as well. “Last step is to get these christened, right? Ready to go?” Still clutching my own resolutions tightly, we walked towards the back room, where a lady in her thirties decked out in in a 1920’s style flapper dress was waiting for us at a table. Really odd for a professional psychic, but then again, we were at a New Year’s party. “What was all that commotion about?” Mme. Reve snapped in a hard-Brooklyn accent, looking extremely peeved. "Did you break my table out there?” “Errr… really sorry Miss! The table is fine. Just trying to kick of the new year with a fun start!” Jake laughed. She leered at us for a moment before finally saying, “Well, I have about 40 more of you morons to get through before the night is up, so let’s speed this along. Hold up your resolutions.” I held up my sheet of paper in front of me as Jake did the same. “Now then,” she said, “Focus on your paper. Look straight into the white of the page and feel the intention behind it. Feel the warmth of it in your hand. Bind yourself to its will, and it will happen.” I never believe in silly things like this, but for a moment, I really did feel tied to that little white sheet in front of me—like it was almost growing warmer and warmer in my hand. Heavier, almost. The longer I looked, the harder it was to look away. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Jake right beside me, his chest slumped and jaw hanging dumbly ajar. Without warning, she grabbed the resolution out of our hands. It happened so quickly, it felt like being slapped awake from a soft dream. I had to blink a few times. Running her hands the resolutions, she slipped a small round sticker over each crease. “These are sealed for the rest of the year,” she ordered. “Put them in a place where you won’t lose them, and open them up again next New Year’s Eve to see how far you’ve come. If you’re happy with the results then, my card is at the front if you want to pay me back.” Slowly rousing up, Jake said, “Uhh, wow. Thank you very much Miss.” Smiling in return, she said, “Sure. Now get the fuck out of here.” The burning daylight slipping through my bedroom curtains slowly stirred awake. Grunting, I rolled over and checked my phone. 11 AM on January 1—the next day. Glancing over, I noticed the crisp resolution note sitting on my bedside table where I left it. I’m not sure why I didn’t throw it right away, but there was time for that later. Reaching over, I picked up the note, and unwrapped the stickers to re-read what I wrote the night before. Glancing at it though, I realized it wasn’t my note at all. Give up alcohol Make more money Tune my body to be the perfect boyfriend ‘The fuck?’ I wondered. This was Jake’s handwriting. Where was my note? Outside my room, I heard some plates and pots clanging. The waft of cooked bacon and eggs slowly crept into my room as a roar of our blender began to whir. Jumping out of my bed in my boxers, I opened my door and walked into the kitchen area. The entire place, normally pristine, was a complete mess. Our entire carton of 2 dozen eggs were cracked and emptied out, with empty packages of bacon sticking out of the garbage can. Streaks of protein powder and dirty plates covered the counters and our last carton of milk lay empty on its side. Suddenly, I heard a loud slurping coming from the other room. Turning out from the kitchen, I nearly walked straight into Jake’s shirtless back, bulging and throbbing with muscle. Completely unaware of me, he was rabidly chugging down a protein shake straight from the blender, not even pausing for a single breath. He audibly growled like a beast as he mindlessly continued to swallow gulp after gulp, his back muscles heaving in and out with every chug. I had never seen him looked so jacked. Finishing the last dribbles of the shake, he lowered the blender and whipped away a thick stream of drool falling from his mouth. Totally intoxicated with himself, he finally turned around and noticed me standing behind him. “UHH, God look at me…” he said, glancing down at the massive gut jutting out from under him. His trim six pack had given way to a massive solid ball of muscle that looked so firm, you could bounce a dime off of it. I paused. “Holy shit Jake. Are you okay?” Chest lurching, he let out a gigantic burp. “Uggh... fuck. Yeah bro, just so fucking HUNGRY. Want to go to the gym?”
  9. 27 points
    This story is a conversion of an old RP I did with a friend, @jsmith230. It was one of my favorite RPs so I thought I would convert it and share. While my first preference is muscle growth with a secondary love of height growth, you could say his preferences are the inverse of mine. So that will give you a hint of what this story will entail. *************************************************************************** Elongro “Dude, have you heard of that new 'Elongro' drug? I have to get my hands on it. I want to get huge this year!” Seth rolls his eyes as he listens to Trevor ramble on about the new miracle drug that has been making a splash among the young adult community worldwide. Trevor and Seth are college roommates and best buddies currently in their second year of college. The two were paired up as dormmates during Freshman year and their friendship blossomed from there. Both 19 years old, the two share a small apartment just off campus. To the outsider, Trevor is the alpha of the friendship, much more confident, outgoing and outspoken than his counterpart. He has always been very athletic and since coming to college has fully invested his free time into fitness and working out. He's obsessed with trying to put on mass and is always trying the latest supplements, pills and powders, along with constantly reading articles on new exercises programs to try. He has built himself up to a nice, ripped, 185 lbs on a 5’10.5 frame. His body fat hovers around 10-12% and he sports a nice 6-pack. But, like any true wannabe bodybuilder, it wasn't, deep down he wanted more. Much more. Seth is Trevor's roommate and while he also has a natural athleticism to him, he hasn't pursued it nearly to the degree that Trevor has, though few people could really say that. Some of the reason behind this is that Seth always felt just a bit too small to ever have great success in sports. He was one of those people who were content to be good enough to make the high school baseball team though he only saw limited playing time. Since college began, Seth exercised a couple times a week, mainly by just jogging, leaving him with a naturally slim and toned 145 lbs on his 5’8 body. The pair were pursuing business degrees although Trevor wasn't quite sold on the idea after his first year. While Seth fully intends to pursue a sales and marketing career, Trevor has considered switching to a more body-centric physical therapy program that would work well in parallel with his pursuit of fitness excellence. What currently has Trevor excited is the discovery of a new drug that offered an exciting possibility. Within the past year, a new compound was developed and released in Korea that is commonly known as “Elongro”. It's use had begun to spread across the developed world. However, due the USA’s overly strict drug testing protocol, the drug is still not legally available in the USA though it is available in most of Asia, Europe and Canada. The drug has caused excitement for people who are small in stature, either height or build. What the drug does is that it basically freezes a young adult growth rate, including hormonal levels, where that rate might be starting to wane. Along with enhancing the sex characteristics, it also keeps their growth plates open for an extended amount of time, allowing an individual to continue to grow for much longer than they normally would. Seth shakes his head as he listens to his roommate explain the drug. “What that means, Seth, is that if you naturally had, say, one more month of growth before your plates fused, you might keep growing at the same rate for another 2-3 months instead with Elongro. But, just think, if you were in the middle of a big growth spurt and originally had many months, or year left, you could potential retain that growth rate for a few more years! Isn't that awesome!” “Uh huh. Sure man. Sounds cool man,” Seth replied cooly. “Sounds a bit too good to be true, really.” “Well, it's not perfect, you're right.” Trevor pulls up his phone to read the details of the drug from the website he'd been researching. “The major drawback of the drug is that it has been shown to cause devastating side effects if a person is still showing any signs of puberty. Most humans complete puberty by the time they are 16 or 17 but keep growing in size for another 1 to 4 years. Because of this risk, most countries that allow the sale of the drug ban it from being used on any person under the age of 19. Also, the drug will not work if a person’s growth plates have already fused, which for many people has already occurred by the time they are 19. Thus, the window for success for the drug is very limited, if open at all. The reports say that only about one-quarter of the people who try to drug experience any results.” Trevor looks away from his phone at his disinterested roommate, but his own excitement cannot be interrupted and he keeps scrolling through the information showing on his phone. “For those that it does work, though, the results have been significant! Bro, this website says there are online rumors from the drug’s testing phase of people putting on 40-50 lbs of muscle and growing up to 6 to 8 inches taller well into their 20s! Shit dude, that would ROCK! I read that for those who are lucky enough to still be growing, the average success rate has been 15 lbs and 2-3 inches over an additional 6 months to 1 year of growing. I would give anything to put on some more size like that! My training has really stalled lately.” “That is pretty sweet, Trev. But you said it yourself, it may not even work. If you've finished your natural growth you're S.O.L.” Trevor huffs as Seth downplays Elongro. Tervor can't help but imagine the possibilities. Though he never mentioned it, while focused on growing his muscles, he secretly always wanted to be taller as well. He hadn't told Seth, but he had already started the process of obtaining the Elongro. He had already set up a quick weekend trip to Canada where a close friend was to obtain a prescription and then supply him with a vial of Elongro. He's aware of the illegality but the chance to put on some size even if it's just a few pounds or an inch in height, is too much to pass up. Because of the drug’s scarcity and the fact he has to obtain it illegally, it will cost Trevor over $1200, a huge amount for a poor college kid. “Seth, from my doctor’s appointment this summer I found out that I had grown another ½” to my current 5’10-1/2 height. So I'm positive I'm on my final growth spurt! I just KNOW it will work. But I got to get started soon before my growth stops.” “Ok, man, whatever. Man, you really are obsessed with size. You've got that dysmorphia thing, haha. I men, you are already jacked, you should be happy.” “Never big enough, bro!” the handsome stud chuckled in reply. “So how does it work? Is it a pill or something?” “Naw, it's an injection. It works from just one single injection. Each vial contain enough liquid for 5 injections, even though only one is needed. This is where you come in, bro!” “Me? What for?” “Well, the thing is, this shit is really expensive. And, like I said you only need one injection, but each vial has enough for five injections. So, I wanted to ask, If I get the Elongro, could I sell you an injection too? It would help me out and I would appreciate it. My girlfriend already said she'd take one of the injections too. Help a brother out, it's fuckin' expensive stuff. I'm not even asking for the full price of a dose, just $200 to help me cover.” “C'mon Trev, don't ask me that. I don't... Man, I don’t think I’ve grown in a couple of years, it would most likely be a waste on me.” “But, Bro, even if you had the slimmest chance to be just a little taller and stronger, wouldn’t you want to take it?” Trevor tries his best to pitch the idea. Seth rebuffs his approaches but he knows what will get Seth on board. “Hey, you know that girl that works at the rec center you’ve been crushing of the past year? Remember how you told me you overheard her talking with her friends that she said she would never date a guy under 5’10 and 175 lbs? She says that because she's pretty tall for a girl, like 5'9 or so. Just think, buddy! If you put some size maybe she’ll give you a second look!” Trevor sees the gears turning in Seth's head. He still seems unconvinced but he can tell he's touched a nerve. “C’mon man, you always told me how you felt like you were too small in high school to be one of the jocks on campus even though you were on the baseball team. This could be your chance to put on some size and least be average height. Wouldn’t you want that, little buddy?” Trevor tosses in ‘little buddy’ because he knows Seth hates when bigger dudes call him that. And that seals the deal. “Ugh. Fine, bro. Whatever," he says with annoyed defeat. "And hey, I’m way past puberty so there’s no risk, right? Other than I’ll be out $200." “That’s the spirit, pal! I promise this will be worth the investment!” * Seth walks to his room to collect the cash. He can't help but shake his head at Trevor's crazy antics. "This stuff is never going to work on me," he says to himself. But, knowing how into this Trevor is he knows that the right thing to do is to support his roomie and at least give it a try. Plus, that way when it doesn't work, he can hold that over his head! Or at least Trev will give it up and move onto something different, just like he always does. The following weekend Trevor makes five hour drive up North to Canada. Upon his return he excitedly enters their apartment and makes himself known. That night, the two friends administer the shot. They both have it their our heads that the effect would be immediate, even though all of the documentation says they won't know right away whether or not it works. But the placebo effect is very real those first few days and it drives the two crazy not knowing for sure if they will see an impact, but the excitement builds. That night Seth dream of growing taller, standing over guys who always made fun of his short height and pushing his skinny body around... being seen as tall... growing again... finally becoming the man he'd always wanted to be. Not being relegated to playing right field in baseball having never hit a home run. All those guys looking down at Seth! He jolts awake and realizes his dick is tenting the sheets. Even though he was skeptical at first, he can't help but think how deep down he must want this injection to work. How badly he needs to become bigger and stronger. He chuckles, knowing how slim the odds are and fades back to sleep. After the first few days of no noticeable changes the two both act as if nothing has happened. Although they both seem to be constantly checking themselves against the heights of familiar landmarks and people, including each other. Inside Trevor is still stoked, convinced that he will reap significant gains. Knowing that Seth hasn't grown upwards in years, he knows it likely won't work for his friend, but he was happy he at least he got $200 out of Seth. Truthfully, Trevor loved having Seth as his roommate. Not only from a personality standpoint, but he loved being the bigger and more dominant man compared to Seth. It was nothing against Seth, it just fed well into Trevor's desire to get bigger and build up his physique. Whenever they went out, Seth always demurred to Trevor when choosing which movies to watch, with parties to go to, what girls to hang with. Trevor was the alpha apparent. Two weeks after the injections the two are eating dinner and Trevor notices Seth is wolfing down a ton of food. "Hungry, there Seth?" "Dude," he says between mouthfuls of grilled chicken, "I can't remember the last time I was this hungry. I just can't get to feeling full lately... it's so weird..." Trevor chuckles as he watches Seth go back to finishing his chicken before starting on some brats. Trevor shakes his head, teasing Seth that “the freshman 15 is real, just delayed for you" before getting up to do the dishes. A bit later the two are hanging out watching TV and chatting about classes and wanting to catch the new Spiderman movie. Seth rubs his full round belly and ponders, pausing, before finally asking his roomie a surprising question. "Have you been making any gains in the gym? I was thinking rather than just running maybe I would try lifting some." Trevor is taken off guard. He knew Seth never went to the rec center other than to run, and certainly never made his way into the weight room. "I was thinking... maybe... I could like... join you sometime?" While Seth has managed to stay relatively thin, having a fitness obsessed roommate might be starting to rub off on him a bit. "Its just, with how I've been eating... maybe I should," he jokes. "I'll get fat if I keep eating like this. Plus, it wouldn't hurt to have a bit more muscle for the ladies... maybe get some attention for once. It seems to have worked out well for you!" "Hell yeah buddy! I would love to be your training partner. Hell, I was thinking I might want to make a career out of it in the future, either personal training or physical therapy. I'd love to show you the ropes, you could be my first client! But, don't worry, little buddy, I won't charge you." Seth's face tightens at the words 'little buddy' and Trevor instantly feels bad. "Er...sorry, Seth. But yeah, even though you haven't been lifting I can tell you are a little bit thicker lately, just from all the food you've been eating. I'm still making gains, but it's slow going." The next day Trevor takes Seth to the gym for his first weightlifting workout. Seth marvels at the poundages that Trevor buddy can lift. Trevor boasts that he can bench 225 lbs ten times and Seth seems to be in shock when he performs the feat. On his turn, Seth can barely do 135 lbs five times. He is disappointed but his new trainer props him up. "Hey, dude, honestly that's a great weight, especially for your first workout. When I started I couldn't even bench 95 lbs once!" Seth perks up at that. As the two leave the weight room Seth notices the hot girl at the towel desk, Stacy. He is understandably smitten as he steals glances. “Fuck, Trevor. That Stacy is one super hot chick.” "Oh I hear ya man. I certainly don't mind the eye candy when I come here to lift everyday. Would love to get into that...if I weren't currently dating Brooke, that is, haha." Grinning stupidly, Seth replies. "Yeah, she's so hot Trev.... but I doubt she'd pay much attention to a guy like me." Seth can't help but notice her height, not too far off from Trevor's. Noticeably taller than he is, certainly. That seems to be the case with a lot of girls on campus. So many of the college girls and guys seem so tall lately. Trevor laughs and reminds his friend that time in the gym won't hurt and that if he stays consistent and pushes himself that she won't care how tall he is. "Muscles always seal the deal!" Trevor chuckles and throws up a double bicep pose, flexing his impressive exposed arms, grinning cockily, causing Seth to roll his eyes. "Trev, doubt you'll be saying that when you are a six footer with me looking WAY up at you!” Seth jokes. "Then you will be tall AND muscular. I'm going to look like a little kid next to you.... so yeah, I better start lifting more I guess!" * A few weeks go by and Seth has been sticking with the gym, much to the surprise of his roommate. While it wasn't like Trevor had no faith in his buddy, he just knew the dropout rates for new lifters was very high. Trevor continues to coach and direct Seth, both in the weight room and giving him advice on his diet . His training advice is sound, and both can already see an improvement in Seth's physique, though it's not been easy for the new gymrat. "Ugh, Trevor, is it normal to ache all the time? I can never seem to really recover..." “Haha, buddy that's part of the deal. Though the more you lift the less sore you should be. It could be that you're not taking enough time to recover. Could be that your muscles are actually growing or any number of reasons. Just growing pains. But, it means that you are actually working and growing, so be excited, man!” Before long, Seth begins to notice that his shoes are uncomfortably tight. He'd worn size 9s since he finished growing taller a few years prior. At first he figures it's the workout. One day after class he hits the mall to get a new pair. While Trevor hangs out at their apartment he gets a text from Seth: [Trev, you won't believe it. I had to get new shoes! Size 10.5!! Crazy!!] Tervor's mind races, trying to process Seth's text. He'd been denying Seth's progress, playing it off as beginner gains. But could his smaller buddy actually be growing? A hint of fear and jealousy permeates his mind. He thinks to himself how his size 11 shoes haven't been feeling any tighter. He calms down and rationalizes that maybe the little guy is going to have one small growth spurt. There is still no way Seth will ever catch him. He convinces himself that must be growing too, even if his shoes still fit. I mean, your feet don't HAVE to get bigger to increase your height, right? Trevor remembers how he is up 7 lbs to 192 lbs, the biggest he's ever been and he doesn't seem any more muscular or more fat, so he assumes that extra weight is coming from added height. The thought calms his nerves and he smiles to himself, excited for the growth that lies ahead. * It is now six weeks after the shot and the two are once again in the gym working out. Seth has been make even more noteworthy progress and has settled into a dedicated routine. This time Trevor brings a notebook. In the locker room after the lifting session Trevor confronts his protege. "Dude, I am a terrible trainer! I forgot to take your initial stats to see how you are coming along. So let's start now, better late than never. We'll use this notebook to make sure you keep progressing. It's good motivation too to see your lifts go up week after week. Ok, how tall again?” "5 ft 8" Seth says, slightly annoyed. "Well, just a bit under actually." “Really? Are you sure?” Trevor looks at Seth, unconvinced. At first he is apprehensive to find out for sure, but he can't deny that Seth looks at least a little taller. Wanting to be a trainer though, he knows he needs to be accurate and thorough with his log books. "Nah, dude, let's find out for sure." Trevor directs Seth to stand against the wall while he takes a tape measure out of his bag. He measures his buddy. "Just a hair under 5 ft 9, dude!" Seth eyes widen and he looks at Trevor excitedly. He shouts, "Maybe that stuff is working for me! I've never been over 5'8 before!” “Dude, that's awesome! You're not quite AS tiny as before, haha. Ok c'mon let's take your weight.” Next, Seth hops on the scale. It reads 160 lbs. “Great job, Seth. That's a 15 lb gain in just 6 weeks. Those are pretty good beginner gains, dude!” Seth can't be more excited as Trevor notes his huge grin. He is thrilled! “Ok man, let's get your other measurements for the log.” Trevor tapes all of Seth's a major muscles groups and writes them in the notebook. Arms: 14.5” Chest: 38.5” Waist: 31” Quads: 21.5” Calves: 14” Trevor can't help but mentally compare his own stats to feed his ego. While Seth may have crept up in height he took solace that he still had him beat everywhere. He knew his 17” guns, 42” pecs, 24.5” legs and 15.5” calves were all well bigger while his tight 30” waist was even more ripped than his little buddy's. Not to mention, from what he had seen of his roommate in the showers, he had more 'down there' as well, the thought of which gave him a reassuring grin. “Not bad, dude! You've got some really big arms compared to the rest of you, definitely a strength. A good one to have too. Chicks dig big guns.” "I still can't believe it, Dude. I grew! I grew!" he keeps saying, trying not to draw a ton of attention to himself. "This is awesome. If it's working for me, it MUST be working for you too! Do you want me to measure your height too?" Tervor shifts a bit, clearly looking uncomfortable and conflicted. "It'll only take a minute... come on... this is exciting!!" Trevor shrugs and submits. Seth grabs and extends the tape measure, coming in closer to take his height. As he does, Trevor can't help but notice how much Seth seems to have closed that gap. The difference between 5ft8 and 5ft10.5 is noticeable, but an inch and a half really isn't. From a distance the two could look the same height! The thought causes the competitive trainer to shudder at the thought. He's always been bigger and taller than his roommate. "And it'll stay that way," he thinks to himself as he stands as straight as you can. The wait for Seth to declare the number feels like hours. Finally, he speaks. "Five Ten, Trev. Still." Seth pauses and watches for Trevor's reaction. He seems deflated momentarily before regaining composure. Seth attempts to reassure him. "Maybe it works different on people depending on their growth stage... I'm sure your growth will come soon!!" Seth says, slapping his back, "Hell, you've made great gains in the gym so something is happening!" Trevor seems to take this to heart, but Seth can tell he isn't completely convinced. Even so, while Seth is jubilant about his growth, he keeps it to myself to not offend his roommate. "Hey Trev, how about you have Brooke come over? I can cook us dinner tonight. I'm starved!!" he says as they grab their bags and head for the door. On the way back to their condo Trevor is obviously dejected but does his best to hide it. He can't believe that Seth is only about an inch shorter than him. And what happened to 5'10 and a HALF? Seth must've missed that last ½ inch, he tells himself. Still, it hurts not feeling as big. With the overall presence of his ripped muscles on his frame Trevor always felt like he towered over his smaller roommate. Not so much anymore. That night Brooke comes over as Seth is whipping up a feast in the kitchen. Having listened to Trevor go on an on about how important a big diet is for big muscles, Seth knew a big nutritious meal would cheer his friend up, let alone sate his own growing hunger. By now the two are well into the second semester of the school year. Everyone is deep into their studies neither had seen Brooke in about three weeks. When she comes in Trevor is stunned at how gorgeous she looks, even more beautiful than he remembered. He felt a stirring in his crotch as his girlfriend made her entrance. The FaceTime chats that they had been relegated to just didn't do her justice. She comes in wearing heels and is almost as tall as Seth! Trevor remembered her being about three inches shorter than Seth when he first introduced her. He now realizes she must be about 5'7 now! Seth too was stunned, noting how tall and sleek she looked. He recalled how Trevor told him he gave her the shot too and it seemed it was working on her too, maybe even more so than Seth! "Hey boys!", she said as she entered. “Hey babe! Damn, I've missed you. You are smokin'!” She goes over to her boyfriend gave him a kiss. Seth notices that Trevor didn't have to bend over like he used to, or at all to kiss her on the lips. She looks over at her boyfriend's roomie. "Hey Seth! You are looking good! I can tell you've been hitting the gym. Trevor said you'd been lifting with him lately. I can see that you've put on some muscle. You're going to have to move up size large, that medium shirt is looking a little tight! Trev, Babe, you must be a fantastic trainer!" The trio have a great evening catching up with each other and enjoying the grilled Caribbean chicken dish that Seth prepared. That night, after the friends retire to their rooms, Trevor goes to town fucking Brooke. All night long he had been staring at his girl full of lust. She just looked so fit and healthy. She was always fit, but she seemed to be on a another level tonight. Maybe it was the longer legs. He also couldn't deny that he was in much need of some release due to the frustration that he seemingly wasn't growing nearly fast enough. * Over the next few weeks, Seth is like a demon in the gym, pushing himself harder and harder and harder. Trevor watches and celebrates his gains, proud that his training techniques are working so effectively. And yet jealously, he see's his buddy making gains so quickly. While Seth started out benching 135, he's now pushing 185 for the same number of reps easily. It's an astounding change. And his shirts keep getting tighter and tighter, to the point now that he's started borrowing old shirts from Trevor! Trevor shakes his head, barely believing that his supposed small roommate needed them now. The duo keep pushing themselves in the gym, even during finals. They can hardly believe that the semester is almost over. It's even harder to believe that two are both getting summer jobs, though Trevor's will be out of state. "Sucks I won't be able to train with you for a couple of months, Trev... it's really been awesome. I've never been so buff in my life." Trevor has recently noticed that Seth's voice has gotten deeper over the last few weeks. Luckily, though, Seth hasn't seemed to have caught him in height. It's something they both have been watching for out of the corners of their eyes. During their last lift together for the school year Seth points to his notebook in Trevor's bag. "Maybe we should take stats again so that I can keep track of the progress myself?" “Erm...yeah man. Of course. Let's see how much mass you've put on, bro!” he says, purposely not mentioning height. The two head to the locker room and strip to their skivvies. Trevor notes how's Seth's body has developed so much that he's not too far behind himself, a thought that worries him. Seth steps on the scale first. The two watch it, with widening eyes, as it swings to 175 pounds. Seth's face brightens excitedly. "Dude... that's another 15 pounds in five weeks. NO WONDER none of my clothes fit!!! Oh wow I could tell I was getting some muscles when I look in the mirror, but this is awesome! Ok, let's take my other measurements. Bro, you are an awesome trainer!" The two high five and Trevor grabs the tape and steps up to Trevor. “Ok. Arms...16 and a quarter”. Woah dude. You are still rocking those huge guns, damn! And they are so defined, crazy, man.” Seth flexes his arm and Trevor watches, stunned, as the ball of muscle leaps into relief. It isn't huge, but a big, solid, undeniable lump of muscle bulges. It is the first time he has seen his roommate flex in any way. “Holy shit, Seth. Your peaks is sweet. Geezus. Ok, let's get the rest. Chest is...41”. Big gain of over two inches, wow. Waist is still 31”, so you're not getting fatter. It seems to be all muscle, dude! Legs...now 23”. Calves...another inch at 15. Those are some studly gains, dude! You're beginner gains won't quit!” “Thanks Trevor, I owe a ton of it to you bro!” “Any time, roomie! Ok move out the way so I can check my weight.” “Hey Trev, can you take my height?” “Erm...um yeah I suppose. You think you are still growing?” “I think so. I hope so.” It's the moment Trevor been dreading. Seth steps against the wall, standing as straight as he can. The anticipation is killing him. He WANTS to be bigger. HE WANT to be taller, even if it seems like he hasn't quite matched Trevor yet. Trevor measures him once... then again... and again. "Dude, what's up?" Seth asks. Trevor grins at him. Internally, Seth worries that he's hasn't grown anymore. Then shares the news. "You are five-ten now!" Now Seth understands the grin on Trevor's face. If he's 5ft10, that means... "Dude! Trevor, you must have grown TOO!!" The two high five, both ecstatic at each others' growth. "I told you, Trevor! It was only a matter of time!!" Trevor looks thrilled, FINALLY this drug was WORKING. Seth steps aside and readies his measurements without a word. It's clear he wants to know. He NEEDS to know. Seth first takes his weight, "200 pounds! Swole man, damn!!" And then he measures his height. "Almost 6ft, dude! You are nearly there!!!" * Trevor is so excited he could almost cry. He bear hugs Seth and lifts him off the ground, taking note of how newly solid and heavy Seth now feels. "Hell yeah buddy! We've both put on about an inch!” He sets his friend down. “But wait, you said 'almost 6 ft'. What was it really?” "Oh,...um...it was right at 5ft11.5. Maybe just a hair under.” Trevor's smile slightly wanes but he certainly can't be disappointed after the last measurement turned up no discernible growth. "But still, Seth, that's just about an inch of growth. I am totally going to hit 6 ft, I just know it!" “Hell yeah man, and maybe I can at least get to 'almost 6 ft' like you said, haha. Starting out at 5'8” I'd be more than happy being 'almost 6 ft'!” “I guess you were right, Seth. It does affect everyone a bit different. I mean, Brooke actually grew the fastest out of all us so far, she's put on like two and half inches.” “Sorta makes sense, I remember back in Junior High that the girls often grew faster at first compared to the boys. But yeah, man, it's working for Brooke though. She looks extra hot lately. Hope you don't mind me sayin'.” “Haha. No prob, dude. You can look, just don't touch!” The two laugh and high five again. Even though Trevor discovered that he is just slightly shorter than what Seth had originally let on, he is still joyous. His confidence that he always remain the bigger roommate returns. That night after the measurements Trevor meets up with Brooke for their last night together before they break from summer. Like him, she will also be away for the summer so they plan a last special night together. After eating at their favorite restaurant the two head home for some intimate time. Back at Trevor's condo, his excitement in the bedroom is palpable and spills over into his performance. “Woah there, tiger. What's gotten into you? I like it, stud.” Brooke asks, pleased at the sensations he is giving her. Brooke is also looking taller and more voluptuous than ever, further revving up the horny college stud. He proceeds to give her a heavy dicking from all the excitement at finally growing and making some noticeable muscle gains. He relays the news to Brooke and in the middle of their fucking she wants to be measured too. Trevor excitedly obeys and measure her now at 5 ft 8.5! He thinks to himself how his girlfriend is becoming quite the vixen before the two return to the bed for another round. The two, both enhanced and excited by the results of the Elongro, are able to go longer than they ever had before. The couple drift asleep in each other arms, Trevor dreaming of growing stronger, more muscular and taller than he could've ever imagined. To Be Continued... Jump to Part 2: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/16655-elongro/?do=findComment&comment=207069
  10. 23 points
    Alternate title: The pump is life! The pump is...too much? The story isn’t done but I’m posting what I have for those guys that expressed interest in it, I’ll be finishing and editing it over the next day or two. Feedback is welcome. “Congratulations Max! You’ve been chosen, as you are required to do as per section 4 paragraph 3 of your sponsorship contract, to test one of the many fine products we make here at Unbound Beast! Project Pump Unbound is sure to lead to great things during your workouts and will leave with a pump like no other while giving you the energy to push yourself to levels you’ve never knew you could attain. Satisfaction? Guaranteed! Ensure you follow directions EXACTLY as laid out to give you the best results possible and relay your experiences back to the company ASAP. “ Yadda, yadda, yadda. The letter that came with the package goes on for some more self aggrandizing bullshit about the company. For a supplement company they really have their heads deep up their own asses. Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful they sponsored me and love what their “100% legal over the counter supplements” (and the not so legal ones they give people like me they sponsor) but I have to admit they worry me at times. Not just the completely soulless nature they do things but the fact, for all they hype them up, the men they sponsor and spend so much time and money on all seem to...quietly just disappear. At the same time though I do love the results I’ve been getting, the attention, money, and the chance at getting on the Olympia stage so if some shady shit is going on I don’t care so long as I get my due. With their help I’ve gone from an up and coming heavyweight bodybuilder tipping the scale at a, relatively, meager 253lbs while juiced to the gills to a rather staggering 328lbs, with a pro card now I might add, in a matter of a few short months. Thank fucking god that I’m over 6’ because the muscle just keeps packing on with no end in sight and I’d start to worry if I was any shorter about being able to get around properly. I mean at least this time they decided to have me act as a guinea pig on a preworkout of all things. I’d love to get to a nice even 350lbs with their help, so I can truly put the fear of ME into people at the gym and on stage, but it is starting to get a bit out of control. Whatever. Who the fuck actually needs clothes that aren’t painted onto every part of your body or to be able to fit in doorways...or cars...or plane seats without some severe discomfort for everyone involved? I sure as fucking hell don’t! I love this shit. I live for this shit. Unbound Beast can make me into a freak of nature but it’s my choice to stay one. So let’s see what this new toy they just sent to me on a silver platter can really fucking do. I put on my favorite pair of tights, spandex shirt, and high tops before grabbing my shit and a shaker full of this special “Project Pump Unbound” before getting into my truck and speeding my way to the gym like a child anxious for the arrival of Santa. I couldn’t hold in my excitement as I down the bitter and tangy preworkout the moment I saw the gym on the horizon. By the time I got out of my truck, which very visibly lurched as I stepped out of it, I could feel it start working. I swear the veins on my arms and what you could see all across my legs through my tights were pulsating with every heart beat as the supplement made its way throughout my body. I swaggered toward the gym with full confidence that this workout was going to be fucking legendary. Every step I could feel my arms bounce off my lats as they made contact, my quads grazing each other all the way down my knees, and my calves flexing into thick balls of pure sex and power with every step as I waddled through the front door. So single minded was desire for self worship through steel that I brushed past the front desk with the attendant looked at with a mix of annoyance and recognition. Not a single person at this gym did not know who I was or just how much of a muscled freak I’ve become over the last few months. Despite my best efforts people were intimidated of me and gave me a wide berth, I admit it bothers me that they feel this way even when I go out of my way to be friendly and approachable but you know? Tonight. Tonight it suits me just fucking fine. I’m on a mission to test this little prototype drug of UBI’s and I won’t be done until I’ve pumped every single muscle to the fucking max, time to stress test this shit. I made my way to the weight room floor stopping at the threshold to survey my kingdom, my temple of iron dedicated to the exultation of power, muscle, and personal dominance. I couldn’t help myself as I adjusted my inordinately sizes bulge as my dick too decided to begin its own praise of what as to come. One major thing I will give Unbound’s products, I don’t have to worry about my balls withering to nothing like I had to on hear despite my body hosting a chem lab’s worth of chemicals. With purpose I made my way to the nearest unoccupied treadmill to start a quick warm scaring a man I’d seen numerous times before at the gym. There was a spring in my step as I began a light jog which I couldn’t tell if it was due to the preworkout or my anticipation. I looked around the gym floor curious to see who was here tonight as I noticed that the man on the treadmill next to me was blatantly eye fucking me as I ran, the only noise that could be heard were my thundering footfalls that echoed through out the entire room and his hard breathing as he leered at my form. I laughed to myself and stared directly into his eyes which finally broke him from his trance, he blushed and turned forward again but stumbled off his treadmill and onto his ass on the ground. Immediately j stopped my jog and allowed the treadmill to deposit me on the ground next to him with a resounding THUD. He had a combination of surprise, hurt pride, and embarrassment on his face as I bent down to help him back onto his feet. Only then did I notice the respectably large tent in his shorts that was twitching with need as he looked at me. Defiantly he ignored my hand and scrambled into the locker room blushing so hard his face darkened several hues redder. I chuckled to myself about the situation while feeling sorry for kid’s predicament. I gathered my things, readjusted my dick again which was having a mind of its own since I drank that preworkout, and headed over to an open bench press. I put a plate on each side to begin warming up my chest, quickly busting out 20 reps to really get the blood flowing for a weight that is otherwise completely insignificant to me. As I sat back up I caught a quick glance of myself in the mirror. I could see my chest visibly swell just a little bit larger with every breath after this single set. Oh. Hell. Fucking. “YES!” I startled two guys next to me in the middle of their set with my outburst. I thought to myself now that I have their attention I may as well request they help my make the most of this. “Hey. Can you two do me a solid? Put on another 45lb plate when I tell you to, I want to bust out a quick pyramid set.” They glanced at each other before quickly nodding. I laid back down under the bar as they put another plate on each side of the bar for me and again I repped out a quick 20 reps with little exertion on my part. “Another!” A plate was added and 20 more reps went by. “Another!!” 20 more reps. “Another!!!” 20 again. “ANOTHER!!!” I finally slowed down but not due to fatigue or exhaustion, in fact I’d never felt so good, I slowly…slowly lowered the bar down to my chest taking my sweet time to burst back up with enough force to surprise my two helpers into taking a step back. I did this again, and again, and again until yet another twenty reps had passed with my brow finally starting to sweat from the show the combination of personal and chemically enhanced strength. I was spellbound as I went through the motions. Any pain or ache I’ve ever had no matter how minor was dispelled as if it was never there, I was like a conduit of human prowess made manifest as I started to scare even myself with what this drug was doing for me yet my only thought was “MORE!” With a jarring sound of metal on metal I racked the weights before muttering my thanks to the two slack jawed men that helped me. Keeping my head down so I could surprise myself with the results I made my way to cable area. Immediately I began to belt out rep after rep of cable crossovers, lateral raises, reverse later raises, pull ups, wide grip pulldowns, curls, pushdowns, and anything at all that could be done for my upper body in quick succession. The only time to sound of weight hitting weight as I acted like a demon possessed was when I changed the weight or exercises, I began to draw the attention of nearly everyone on the gym floor but I didn’t care. Well over an hour passed before I finally stopped to look at the results at which point I now knew why everyone was staring at me. My compression shirt was so tight across my hulking form that it looked like I had stolen a shirt belonging to a small child. I gingerly flexed one of my arms in the mirror as they were so bloated with blood and brawn that it became a feat to even do that much. What had once been about the size of my head now completely eclipsed it. My forearms were so thick and riddled with veins completely engorged with blood that it fought with my biceps for space as I flexed my arm. Quietly a sound of threads tearing as they futilely fought against my lat that stuck out like a wing belonging on a beast from legend. I gasped at the sight and accidentally began to choke myself as my chest puffed up like parade float balloon. Unable to help myself lowered my arm and began to flex my chest, making my pecs dance and put on a show for anyone watching, which at this point was so densely packed with muscle that they may as well make a Z cup size just for me. My shoulders made my shirt like I was smuggling two basketballs that both lead to a mountainous peak which lead to the bottom of my skull rendering me truly neck-less, the only thing ruining this image was my legs that had until now escaped my attention. Swiftly I made my way a leg press and the seated calf machine loading them both with as much weight as they could hold. I want to make sure I don’t neglect a single part of my body so long as this preworkout is in my system but I wanted to do something special for my own amusement and curiosity. With both haste and control I jumped back and forth between the two machines only allowing my increasingly pumped calves time to rest as I walked from one to another. Rep after rep, set after set, I pounded the bastards into compliance like a blacksmith at a forge attacking them at every angle for over half an hour until the pump was so fucking painful I could not take another step and sat down next to a squat rack. As my breath was so ragged it came out in bellows I began to laugh madly at the pain just completely fucking reveling in it. Delicately I stood up, my movements awkward, as I began to pile on plate after plate on the squat rack to finish my calves off completely. Flippantly I tossed another two plates onto the ground for me to stand on as I fought through the pain and the excruciatingly over pumped muscles to begin a standing calf raises using a weight that would have blown even my own squat one rep max out of the water. With every repped they bulged out wider, another vein appeared, and the pain from both the exertion and pump only got worse. Victoriously I slammed the bar back onto the squat rack after set after nonstop set to see what I had accomplished. Immediately I got hard, painfully so. Defiantly they ignored my commands to flex only responding with pain and a tightness that distended my overburdened skin but eventually my calves relented. So overloaded with muscle were they that my stance was forced into an inverse of a cowboy, the size ratio between my calves and upper legs were reverse making me look truly ridiculous but yet, to me, only aroused me further as a large wet spot began to form on the railroad spike bulge jutting from my groin. I got under the bar one last time as I had one last area that demanded my attention. With perfect form I squatted…and squatted…and squatted, the entire time my tights were being pulled forward by my dick which was no less turgid than when I started. Every ascent I was welcomed to my quads bloating up just a bit more, every descent I could feel my hamstrings flex and swell further as my ass bulged even more. Soon my calves were met and then exceeded by the size of my upper legs as they took their rightful place as the reigning monstrosity they were always meant to be. I only stopped when I could no longer push my feet outward to accommodate the muscle just take up every millimeter of possible space on my legs. Awkwardly I racked the weight and waddled out to see what I had made of myself. No doubt came to my mind that while my calves here half again as large as my legs used to be my legs were now half again larger than that; and to both my delight and surprised the pump I had worked so hard for on my upper body hadn’t diminished…in fact if anything it looked like it bloated up even more. I began to go through my pose routine laughing to myself every time I felt stitching on my tights or compression shirt rip and tear or when I wasn’t able to fully complete a pose either due to the pump or the staggering, almost bordering on offensive to the eye, size of my body. Winded from a long, grueling, and fruitful workout I stopped posing and grabbed my gym bag as I made my way to the locker room. Thoughts of how hard it was getting to move or that maybe I overdid it crept up to the forefront of my mind but I had little choice but to try and not think about it as I awkwardly waddled into the locker room, every step more of a challenge than the last. Unceremoniously I dropped my bag in a corner and began to flail around in vain while I attempted to pull off my clothes. I sighed in a mixture of defeat and worry as I heard someone enter the locker room behind me. Very stiffly I turned around as I heard someone begin to speak. “Look man I’m sorry about earlier, it’s just that you just a…fucking beast and I couldn’t help but stare at you.” It was the man earlier from the treadmill. He was looking down at his feet clearly too embarrassed to look me in the eye from his fall earlier. He began to look up as he continued. “I mean I’m sure you’re used to it and all but I know it’s rude as hell to stare at people but I just wanted to say…HOLY FUCK WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?” I quickly raised a finger to my mouth, or tried to at least I should say. My arms were too swollen from whatever the fuck this preworkout is doing to me that it was just an impossible task at this point. “Hey!” I barked at him. “Lower your voice damn it and apology accepted but can you do me a solid here?” He flinched slightly at my outburst and looked at me inquisitively. “I uh…sorta over did it…can you help me take my clothes off?” Immediately he began to give me a look as if he was wondering if this was a trick and simultaneously praying to whatever god that it wasn’t. “I swear to Christ I’m not fucking with you or coming on to you but I seriously need to take a cold shower and cool down but I really fucking overdid it in the gym man.” Like a wild animal accepting food from a human he slowly and very cautiously took a few steps towards me as if to make sure I wasn’t about to hit him or something. “I’m not going to bite man.” I laughed to myself and then muttered under my breath. “I don’t think I could right now if I wanted to anyways.” As his hands neared the hem of my compression shirt he stopped to look at me and check if this was really ok or not, I rolled my eyes and nodded my head for him to get on with it. He shrugged and delicately began to peel it off. I could hear the fabric protest and seams rip even more as he disrobed the shirt which was well past its max capacity. I could feel his hands explore my torso as he tried to take off the shirt without outright destroying the tortured and abused clothing. It ended up being all for nothing though as I could barely raise my arms at this point with how swollen they had grown that he ended up ripping it off the rest of the way. We both let out an involuntary gasp once we were both able to get an unobstructed view of the aberration I had turned into. Every single muscle on my torso simultaneously looked like it was made of the densest granite ridden with innumerous veins and striations but also as if they were inflated like a balloon struggling to not burst. Treadmill guy started to pitch another rather impressive tent in his shorts as I snapped my hand to get his attention. “Hey…uh…what is your name?” I asked while trying to hide my embarrassment at not asking him before asking him to take off my clothes. “Brent.” He responded as he put his hand onto one of my pecs. I snapped again to try and get him to pay attention. “Look I’m flattered but could you please help me take the rest off and maybe buy me dinner before you go any further?” Brent blushed as he took his hand off my chest and started his attempt at taking my tights off. With some patience, and extreme luck that no one walked in on us while he was helping me, Brent was some fucking how able to peel of my tights which were now severely distorted by the ordeal they went through trying to contain my legs. He also helped take of my shoes and socks with little fanfare but that left just one thing piece of clothing left that I still wouldn’t be able to take off in my current state...the posers I wore when I worked out. “Seriously?” Brent asked me in a tone mixed with humor over the audacity of the situation and hope that hope he wasn’t just dreaming. “…yes, seriously. Please.” I responded blushing and trying to avoid eye contact the entire time. “Ok then…” Brent said to reaffirm himself as he put his hands around my waist and pulled down my posers. Immediately my dick, which had softened but still left a very visible wet spot from my earlier excitement on both my posers and tights, popped out of my posers. It uppercut Brent’s jaw as it inflated like a twisting balloon with a mind of its own to the utmost size possible without popping. As Brent started to cuss at the unexpected dick uppercut my now excessively large, and did I mention erect, dick succumbed to gravity as it plopped down onto Brent’s face with the tip resting firmly in the middle of his forehead leaking precum all over his face. Brent stared cross-eyed at his assailant wondering what the hell just hit him and then leaked over him I turned around and wobbled away at a pace that would be ridiculously slow if not for my current predicament spouting a thank you over my shoulder before he could comprehend what happened to him. As I made my way to the showers, praying that maybe a cold shower would help ease my exceedingly pumped up muscle, I could feel a pressure begin to build up in my nuts. Every step the pressure got worse and worse, my dick was being pushed up until it was standing vertically as my balls began to swell and accumulate seed at a painful and worry rate. I got the counter and mirror before the shower room with every one of my erratic steps being followed by a resounding THWACK noise of flesh hitting flesh as my dick bounced around wildly when the pressure was too much. I bent over and grabbed the counter as all of the cum that had been demanding release could wait no more. I stared into my reflection meeting my eyes are I let loose a sound that no human should be able to make, my gaze never broke as I took in what a fucking freak of nature I became as what felt like gallon after gallon of cum erupted out of my dick ten times more powerful than any volcano but just as destructive as I could feel the wall, floor, and my feet be completely doused with my essence. It took me a few minutes to collect myself and catch my breath as I hurried as fast as my overly bloated legs could take me into the showers. Finally I made it into the open showers and fumbled about trying to turn them on in a final attempt to cool my body down or do something…anything at all to reverse or slow whatever the fuck is happening to me. I was on the verge of tears in my frustration that I finally got what I wanted, to be a freak, but it was just too fucking much when I heard Brent’s voice. “Hey man are you alright? I saw your…mess, do you still need some help man?”
  11. 22 points
    Part XIII After the shower I laid down on my bed. I had put on a pair of my old underwear just to see how well my 5” soft cock and XXL egg sized balls now filled it’s pouch. I remember how my former 2”er was always lost in the fabric of my pouch. Thank god those days are long gone. The thought of how far I had come began to arouse me, I felt my cock begin to lengthen. As if on cue, there was a knock at the door and then it swung open. Blake bounded in. He was somehow now drinking a huge protein shake though he had just killed all that food. “You’re going to get fat.” I say. “Nah, it all goes to my dick and ass.” He said smiling. “Stand up. Want to measure you before your growth.” Blake Says. I dutifully stand. Blake takes a tape out of his pocket and pushes me to the wall. He places the base at my feet and reads off “6’1.” He walks away to the bathroom and returns with a scale. I stand on it and he says “180lbs, not bad.” “Now, I know I’ve seen it in action but I’m going to measure it now.” As he pushes my tighty whities to the floor. My soft cock lies there, waiting. Blake takes the tape and puts it along my shaft. I shiver, the steel cold against my flesh. “5 1/8ths inch. I remember when I was this small.” I grimace but swallow my rage. “And let’s see just how big this puppy gets.” Blake says as he begins to stroke my shaft with his meaty hand. I throw my head back from the feeling of another’s hand on my cock. It’s still so new and sensitive. I begin to harden and grow under Blake’s expert hand. He spits on my dick to reduce the burning part of the friction. The warm and wet feel so good on my cock and soon I’m hard as a rock. “Nice tool on you already. We definitely share that fat mushroom head.” He says as he runs his finger under it, tracing the ridge. “I can’t wait to see what it’s going to look like soon.” Blake’s attention to my cock and reminder that I’m about to have a growth spurt makes me cum almost. But instead a fat stream of pre shoots out of my cock and coats Blake’s hand. He shrugs and says “can’t let’s this go to waste” as he pulls down his shorts revealing his soft cock. He rubs the pre into the pliable head and I see it engorge slightly. “So, before we begin, I have to warn you of something. If you cum before you’re done growing, you’ll ruin the entire process. You have to shut down the growth first.” Blake Says. “Anything you gain during the growth will disappear and then some. The bigger you grow in a session there’s an even bigger shrinking.” “That’s not good.” I reply. “It’s a blessing in disguise. If you ever take yourself over the edge of comfortable size there’s a way out. One weekend back at college I had the apartment to myself. I felt like I needed a boost for a workout and lost myself in the growth a few times. Let’s just say I was much bigger than right now for 24 hours.” “How big did you get?” “Oh, about 6’11”, 350 lbs.” “How big did it get?” I say gesturing to his cock. It’s head still wrapped in Blake’s hand, massaging it. “I remember measuring it at about 18”. It was fucking amazing but not realistic. Even now, 14” is too much. Hell, 13” is too. I need to bring it down back to 11”. Nobody wants it inside them this big.” He sighs. “I don’t think it can be too big.” I reply. “I’d rather be hung like a horse than have my old 5 hard inches back.” “Yeah bro. Maybe you’re right. But be careful what you wish for.” Blake Replies.
  12. 21 points
    Okay...this is my first story in years. Many...many years! But...I promised myself I would start writing again, and this is a story I've been working on over Christmas. I'm not sure if there is a Part Two or not. Let me know what you think...but be kind! Like I said... this is my first story in many years!!! The Test Chad hopped out of his jeep and ran up the twelve steps to Jacobs building. The lab was on the fourth floor, and no sooner had he entered the main doors, he was running up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Seconds later, he was bursting through the door. ⁃ Where were you? This is the third time this week you stood me up. ⁃ I left you a message on your phone. I said I was too busy with work to go. ⁃ Too busy to keep the gains you’ve worked on for the past 8 months? It was leg day...and we both know you can’t afford to miss leg day! Chad looked down at his friend and grinned broadly. They had been working out together for nearly a year now, ever since Jacob had joined the gym where Chad was a personal trainer. The relationship had been strained at first. Jacob was naturally shy and insecure in the gym, but once they discovered a common trait: their love for hot men, their friendship flourished. Since then, they worked out together, hung out together, cried a couple of times on each other’s shoulders, and passed from simple gym pals to best friends. Oddly enough, there was never any sexual chemistry between the two, and Chad felt it was best this way. He didn’t have the best track record with men, breaking several hearts in the time he knew Jacob, and sleeping with many many more. He didn’t even think Jacob knew what a complete man-whore he actually was. He never told his friend about his countless sexual escapades, not because he feared Jacob would think less of him, but more because he never really acknowledged what he was...a man who loved sex very, very, very, VERY, much!! Jacob looked up at his friend wearing the craziest pair of glasses/magnifying apparatus Chad had ever seen. ⁃ I’m really in the middle of something. ⁃ I can see that. What is that thing, an emerald? Jacob looked down at the large stone he was holding in his hand, exhaled a sizeable sigh of frustration, and took the optivisor off his head. ⁃ No. It’s not an emerald. We have no clue what it really is. It wasn’t even green this morning? ⁃ What? Really? Chad sat his large frame in the chair nearest his friend. ⁃ How’s it changing colours? ⁃ I have no idea. So far since it was excavated three weeks ago, it’s been orange, red, purple, yellow, and pink. No rhyme or reason for the colour change. It just happens. Usually over night. ⁃ Where was it found? ⁃ A few miles outside Athens. Some colleges of mine are on a dig, excavating what appears to be an ancient agoge. ⁃ A what? ⁃ An agoge...a vigorous training academy for the military. ⁃ Was the stone captured in a raid? ⁃ There was nothing with it except this piece of parchment. Since I’m a gemologist, they sent it over to me to examine. They had to sneek it out of the country by Fed Ex, shoved and sealed in a can of coffee grinds. ⁃ Why? ⁃ They have some idea what it might be after taking a look at this parchment that they found near it. But since they can’t leave the dig for another four weeks without arousing suspicion, they sent it to me to keep safe. ⁃ Trusting friends. ⁃ It’s actually my ex, Elliott. He knew I wouldn’t say no, and I like a good puzzle. ⁃ What do they think it is? Jacob reached over and pressed the space bar of his laptop. The screen came to life, and with a few clicks of his mouth, found the document he was searching for. ⁃ Here’s a copy of the parchment. From what I can translate...this figure is some sort of cosmic king. ⁃ Zeus? ⁃ No. It almost appears as if he’s beyond even Zeus. ⁃ An alien? ⁃ Maybe. I don’t know. Whatever it is, he’s asking this warrior a riddle. When the warrior gets the riddle right, a beam of light shoots from the gem into the warrior, transforming him into what looks like a magnified version of himself....the perfect soldier. ⁃ Damn. ⁃ Yeah. ⁃ I guess you need the alien king to make it work. ⁃ Maybe. I’ve tried sending light through it. Here...look... Jacob got up from his desk and moved to the center of the room where an apparatus was placed. ⁃ I’ve put the gem stone here, and sent light through it from here into several rats and mice, but nothing. No change. Nothing. I’ve tried every wave length you can think of, several different power sources, and even natural sun and moonlight, but nothing. I’m at a loss. I tried the light from a laser this afternoon, but the rat just sat there happy as could be. It must need a mediator of some kind to make it work, but I’m not sure what. So...you can see why I’ve missed the gym the past couple of days. ⁃ Yeah. Why work out when you can build your own warrior rats here. Chad got up and moved to near where Jacob was standing. ⁃ Why didn’t I go to college instead of joining the Marines? I could be working on interesting shit like this instead of waiting for lazy PhD no-shows. ⁃ I said I was sorry, ⁃ Did you? ⁃ I think I did...and besides I’m doing this on the sly. My boss has been driving me crazy, having me put together a presentation for him that he has to present at a conference. What time is it? I have to bring it to him at his house by six. Jacob and Chad both looked at the clock across the room. ⁃ Good. Only 3:40. ⁃ Buddy, that clocks wrong. After you, I had Mrs. Walsh, and I got done with her at 6. It had to be at least 6:30 by now. ⁃ What? It can’t be! Chad looked down at his watch and showed it to Jacob. ⁃ 6:45 actually. ⁃ No! No...no...no! Fuck!! It can’t be!! Fuck!!! Jacob ran over and grabbed a Zip drive from his desk. ⁃ He’s going to kill me. I’ll never make it over there in time. I only have my bike with me... Fuck!!! ⁃ Take my Jeep. ⁃ What? ⁃ Here take my Jeep . How far away does he live? ⁃ About 20 minutes by bike... ⁃ So you’ll get there in no time with my Jeep. I’ll stay here and when you get back we can go for a drink. ⁃ Oh my God. Thank you so much. ⁃ No problem. I have a spot right outside. Just calm down and be careful. ⁃ I will. I promise. I’ll be right back, Grabbing Chad’s keys, Jacob tore out the door leaving Chad alone in the now empty lab. He could never be holed up in a room like this, examining stones and rats. He was too much of a physical person. He needed to be out and about either working out, or jogging, or any other of his physical hobbies. He never had any interest in scholarly pursuits. To him the stone was just a stone...even if it did apparently change colours and come with a pretty cool backstory. Chad picked up the stone and looked at the computer screen one more time. ⁃ So...the light goes through the stone and into the rat... *********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************** Jacob parked the Jeep, turned it off, and got out slower then he wanted to. After that ordeal at Professor Lease’s house, he was both physically and mentally exhausted. He had to simply stand there as the older man berated him over punctuality, responsibility, and the qualities it took to be an adjunct professor in his department. Jacob has nearly cried as Lease went on and on and on. He would have continued even longer if his Uber hadn’t arrived to take him to the airport. The final insult to injury cane as Professor Lease passed Chad’s Jeep and said: ⁃ This is yours? ⁃ No. I borrowed it from a friend. ⁃ I didn’t think someone like you would drive something like this. Shape-up, Mr. Harrow. With that, he slammed the door to the Uber, and was whisked away. Jacob waved to the car as it quickly faded into the distance wishing he had the balls to give him the finger instead of this ridiculous display of false affection. Now as he opened the glass door to the building that housed his office/lab, he decided that he would take the lift up to the fourth floor instead of climbing each of the stairs. Nearly thinking about the climb in his current mood filled him with dread. It was while thinking these thoughts that he suddenly realized the foyer to his building was in complete darkness. Moving to the wall that held the light switch, he blindly felt his hand around until he found it. Click. Click. Nothing. There must be an outage somewhere, he thought, and gazing outside, realized it was only his and a couple of other buildings in the area that were bathed in complete darkness. Carefully taking each step that laid ahead of him, Jacob began the journey to the fourth floor. Chad must be sitting upstairs in the dark since he wasn’t outside to greet him, Jacob thought as he reached the second floor. Jacob smiles as he thought of his friend doing push-ups or sit-ups to keep himself busy as he waited in the dark. He wished he had his friends energy and drive when it came to fitness...but it wasn’t anything that ever really interested him. He never would have even joined the gym if it hadn’t been for the offer to have 300.00 pounds taken off of his private insurance with proof that he was living a healthy life. He would have quit a week after joining if it hadn’t been for being paired up with Chad for an offer of four free sessions with a personal trainer. Chad’s sexiness kept him returning for the four sessions, and just the thought of being able to hang out with someone like him had Jacob signing up for three sessions a week. Now that they were friends Chad told him he would train him for free, but Jacob refused. He knew that his friend needed the money, so He made up the excuse of not getting Chad in trouble with his Boss at the gym for continuing the payments. It wasn’t a lot, but Jacob was glad to be able to help his friend out. As he climbed the final flight of stairs that would take him to his office, Jacob saw flashes of light as well as what sounded like sexual moans coming from under his door. As he got closer, Jacob could hear his friend clearly as Chad let out a loud ⁃ FUCK!!! Jacob laughed quietly. Chad must have gotten bored waiting for him in the dark and decided to rub one out while watching porn on his phone, which would account for the flashing light. He thought he would wait outside until Chad finished up when he heard Chad calling out to him, moaning as he spoke: ⁃ Jacob! Fuck!! Come in! ⁃ I think you’re doing just fine on your own. You don’t need me. ⁃ Get in here!! Man!! I have a surprise for you! Fuck yeah!! Slight embarrassed thinking about what he was about to see, Jacob opened the door. What he actually saw far exceeded his imagination of what Chad has been up to. The laser was powered on, and the beam was first going through a magnifying glass that had somehow been rigged onto the apparatus, then through the stone which was rapidly changing every colour known to man. The beam continued through the stone, emerging as a multi coloured arrow of light hitting Chad squarely in the chest. Chad was shirtless, and the sweat that was pouring down his chest was highlighted in the every changing array of colours. ⁃ You made it just in time. ⁃ What the fuck are you doing, mate!! You’re crazy. Jacob ran over to the switch that powered the beam with every intention of turning it off. ⁃ Don’t!! As Jacobs hand reached for the switch, an arch of electronic energy erupted from the panel, shocking him into submission. ⁃ He won’t let you stop it. Not now. Chad’s moaning continued, and his breathing became more rapid. Jacob could see he was aroused from the obvious tenting of his shorts. ⁃ If you felt like I did, you’d never want this to stop either. I feel like I’m having thousands of orgasms all at the same time, and they keep getting more and more powerful... I can hardly stand it. ⁃ Who’s this ‘he’ that you mentioned? ⁃ I don’t know. He’s just a voice I can hear in my head. He told me how to wire up your laser and draw all of the power from the building. He said you were so close... you just needed a push. ⁃ You shouldn’t have tested it on yourself. We have no clue what it will do to you. ⁃ I still don’t. All I know is as each second passes, it’s filling me up more and more with power. Jacob leaned against the desk and watched his friend experiencing what seemed like pain and ecstasy at the same time. ⁃ I just wanted to help. I got the idea for the magnifying glass from what you said about it transforming the soldier into a magnified version of himself. Maybe the light just needed to be magnified. So, I rigged that magnifying glass there, set the rat on the table, and turned it on. Nothing. I then thought...maybe you didn’t need a rat...maybe you needed a guinnea pig. A human one. So I moved the rat and put myself there. At first Nothing happened, and then I heard a whisper in the back of my head, almost like a thought to take my shirt off...so I did. Once it was hitting my flesh, I could hear the whispering better. He told me you were being too careful...the rat would never work because it had no real cognizant thoughts. Then he said the power was too low. He had me turn it up and then step into the beam. The voice was getting louder...and he said that it still wasn’t strong enough, so he told me how to rewire the entire console, draining energy from this building and three more that surrounded it. He also had me put that failsafe around the switch because he knew if you came back you would be worried and shut it…Awww! Fuck…Jacob!!! Nearly there!!! I’m nearly entirely filled up. Jacob!!! I’m so filled with power I feel like I’m going to explode! I can’t even explain how this feels. ⁃ What’s going to happen next? What happens when you get entirely filled up. ⁃ I don’t know! All I know is… Chad stopped talked and appeared to be listening to someone speak. - You were wrong, Jacob. It’s not a riddle. It’s a test. - A test? What do you mean? - He wants to know what I really am. Deep down…what do I really believe I am? - You’re a human…like me… - He knows that! Deep down…what am I? - Chad…please…stop this now…while you can. - I can’t, Jacob. Not now…and I don’t think I want to. What am I deep down? We both know…don’t we? We both know what I am. Jacob realized Chad was no longer speaking to him, but to the voice only he could hear. - Exactly. I’m a sexual animal. That’s what I am. I’ve always known that. We both know that. Silence again for a few moments…and then Chad started speaking again. - What do I wish to become? What will I be? A sexual beast…a sexual conqueror… a sexual warrior? Jacob leaned forward as he saw Chad smile and then laugh. - Exactly. Why stop there. You’re right. That is exactly what I need to be. A God. A sexual God. Suddenly the room went silent. The beam from the laser shut off, and the only thing that eliminated the room was a glow from the stone…now completely clear. - It’s happening, Jacob. I can feel it. I’m changing! Oh, Fuck! My cock! Look at my cock! Jacob watched as the bulge in his shorts started to get bigger and bigger, looking as if someone was inflating a large balloon with air. Chad threw his head back and started moaning loudly again. - I can feel my whole body changing, Jake. What am I becoming? Jacob watched as Chad’s bulge proceeded to get bigger and bigger until he finally heard his underwear rip, and his cock flopped out the leg hole of his shorts. Fuck, Jacob thought, his cock is nearly down to his knee and it’s still growing. The shaft continued to grow longer and thicker, the head growing larger and meatier. - Fuck yeah, Jake! Fuckin take a look at me!!! Jacob couldn’t help looking at Chad as his penis continued to stretch and swell. Within a few minutes the massive shaft was nearing the floor. It was thicker than Chad’s own muscular arms, and just as veiny. The head was nearly as thick as two of Jacob’s fist together, and had a gaping hole he easily could have stuck several fingers into. - I’m getting so horny, Jake. I don’t think I’ve ever been this horny. Chad’s cock began to get thicker and longer as it got harder, defying gravity and rising up off of the floor. Soon there was a war between Chad’s penis and his shorts, and to no ones surprise, the penis won, first tearing the leg of his shorts, and then quickly destroying the rest of the material. Chad stood there naked, his eyes wild and filled with lust, his hands moving toward the shaft of his newly grown penis. Even with his long arms he couldn’t touch the head of it, and both hands were not enough to encircle the girth. Chad looked at Jacob and grinned. - Can’t wait to fuck with this thing!! - I’m not sure anyone will be able to take you with it. - Oh yeah? Take a look! As if Chad was willing it of his own accord, a river of pre began to flow from the hole at the end of his massive cock. It was like someone had turned a faucet on and walked away from the tap. Jacob looked at Chad, and watched him close his eyes. - Take another look. Jacob looked back down at Chad’s cock, and watched as pre suddenly began to flow from tiny pores all over his cock. Soon, the entire shaft was slick and dripping with pre. - Apparently I’m self lubricating now. Chad’s hearty laugh suddenly deepened three octaves as his hands cuped the testicles that sat in his sack. They were quickly enlarging to match his penis. Chad felt around his sack, cupping the two orange sized balls with a smirk that suddenly turned into a grimace of pain. Jacob looked down to where Chad’s hands had quickly gone to, and discovered there appeared to be a third testicle emerging. - What the fuck’s happening to me? Chad’s voice was so low now it was more like a grumble. Jacob could see a fourth testicle suddenly form in his ball sack, and begin to swell. Chad’s sack grew larger as the four testicles grew to the size of extremely large grapefruits. This sudden rush of god like testosterone hit Chad all at once, and hair began to sprout all over his body. Jet black hair began to take root around his lips and on his chin forming the manliest of beards. His bare chest was next as hair began to thickly coat his pecs. Like water flowing down a mountain, his abs, then crotch, and finally legs were covered in silky black hair. Chad’s hands felt his face and chest, marveling at the sudden carpet of hair that had grown there. Soon after, his muscular arms began to be covered as well, leading to his arm pit which grew a dense outcrop of hair. - What do you think, Jake? I always wanted to be a little hairier. The exploration of his new hairy body was cut short by a sudden jolt of pain. Jacob moved toward Chad, but his arm flew out and stopped him. - It’s okay, buddy. Don’t worry. I think I’m growing. Jacob watched on with concern as Chad’s body began to jerk and then convulse wildly. He feared Chad was having some sort of a seizure, but realized it was simply every muscle in his body pulsing with new found power. Jacob surveyed Chad’s chest where it seemed to be hitting with the most force. His already muscular pecs were pumping larger and larger as if it was ten years of solid chest workouts in one minute. - Look at these chesticles! I can barely see over them! Chad had barely uttered these words when his pecs flourished even larger blocking any view he would have of his lower body. Chad looked preposterous with these now 100 pound each pecs plastered to his body, but that appearance was to be short lived. Chad’s neck began to grow outward, thickening like a redwood. His shoulders erupted upward, becoming grander and more rounded. Jacob heard the cracking of bones and noticed both of Chad’s arms were lengthening as his biceps and triceps expanded and enlarged. Soon Chad’s hands scraped the floor, as his forearms thickened to the size of Jacob’s own thigh. Each finger lengthened and expanded, and the palm of his hand became as large as a manhole cover. Chad lifted his hands off of the ground and examined them. - I think I might have some trouble finding gloves to fit these mits! Chad flexed both of his long arms with a grin. His bi’s and tri’s erupted in size, becoming larger than Jacob’s head and still continued to swell. Chad dropped his arms, his huge hands slapping the floor. They didn’t rest on the floor for long as Chad’s lats began to expand like the rest of him. His back was growing wider and wider, and soon his arms didn’t rest against his side anymore, but were forced away from him. A rumble of laughter erupted from Chad. His cock had started leaking pre again, and his hands had begun to stroke the mighty shaft. Even with his massive hands, Chad still couldn’t complete grip his cock, and needed to use both to completely encircle it. One hand left his cock and moved to his pecs where he began to play with his nipples. Along with his chest, each nipple had grown and now were the length and thickness of Jacob’s own thumbs. His pecs had gotten so large that the nipples were forced downward, and the cleft between them could completely hide Jacobs foot. From his pecs, Chad’s hands went down to his abs which were beginning to grow along with the rest of them. Chad had an incredible 6 pack before, but now each abdominal muscle swelled to resemble thick body armor. The hair that had grown on his chest did nothing to hide the incredible wall of muscle that was emerging on his stomach. The sound of bones breaking and reassembling themselves began again, and Jacob watched as Chad’s legs began to grow longer. Where the man had once been at least 6 feet tall, his height skyrocketed to seven feet and then closer to eight. In moments, Chad’s head had hit the ceiling, bringing plaster down onto his body. Not to be left out, Chad’s feet ripped from his sneakers, and soon began to cover three of the 12 inch floor tiles, and then proceeded to eclipse a fourth. Chad screamed out in pain and reached for his ball sack. - Fuck!!! I’m growing another set again! The growth of the third set of testicles brought a further wave of testosterone through Chad, causing his body hair to become even denser, and swelling his quads and calves until his legs were thicker than redwood trees. Chad had to adjust his stance several times as his thighs grew more and more massive. A further cry of pain brought his hands back to his balls. - What now??!! To Jacob’s eyes, it appeared like the six large balls were moving around on their own inside Chad’s ball sack. - They’re merging! Jacob watched in awe as the six large testicles merged into two of the largest balls he had ever seen. They didn’t appear out of place on Chad’s massive body, but next to a mere human, they would be as large as ostrich eggs. Chad’s massive hands flew suddenly to his head as he cried out again. Slowly, Chad’s head and face were expanding, getting large to fit in proportion to his body. His mandible cracked as his jawline squared off, somewhat hidden by Chad’s new beard, but still obvious. - This is it pal! This is it!! Every part of Chad’s body grew even larger than it had been before, gaining hundred more pounds in muscle and size in minutes. With his bearlike paws, Chad grabbed his cock and began to frantically jerk it off. The second round of growth continued faster as Chad fell to his knees as to not go through the ceiling. Even on his knees, Chad was taller than Jacob. Pre was flying everywhere as Chad proceeded to masturbate with fervor. He’s going to explode, Jacob though, watching his friend getting far larger than anything he could imagine. Suddenly, Chad stopped all action. Jacob wondered what was next, and realized Chad’s focus was now on his cock. Longer and thicker it swelled, finger sized veins criss-crossing the length of it. The head swelled even larger still, and with the power of his giant testicles, Chad began to ejaculate. Cum erupted from Chad’s penis, hitting every object in the room, including Jacob. Shot after shot were fired, until it seemed there was no end in sight. Chad grabbed hold of his cock again with one hand trying to control where it was firing, but only succeeding in exciting himself more. Sweat ran down Chad’s face as an eroma of male musk emerged from his body. Jacob came in his trousers simply from seeing and smelling his friend. Chad lifted his arm and smelled his own armpit. Smiling at Jacob, he proceeded to squeeze his massive right nipple, and let out the lowest moan of ecstacy Jacob had ever heard. Seven more shots of cum erupted from Chad’s penis, and then there was silence; cum dripping quietly from the massive hole. - It’s done, Jake. - You’re massive. - How big do you think I am? - I don’t know. Probably close to 9 feet tall and thousands of pounds. Your damn head is as big as my chest… both heads… and even after cumming for nearly 10 minutes your cock is still hard. - I’m still horny. I don’t think I’ll ever not be horny again. Jacob laughed. - I can’t wait till the world gets a look at you. - What do you think of me? - You’re incredible. So far beyond human. - I ceased being human about twenty minutes ago. He gave me a choice for my shape…and for a moment I thought of becoming a two-hundred foot dragon. What do you think? Chad closed his eyes, and through only his will, two large amphibious wings ripped from his back. They were as wide and masculine as he was. Chad breathed, and fire erupted from his mouth. His eyes became those of a snake, and a moment later, fire erupted from the head of Chad’s penis, proving to Jacob that he was indeed more God than man. - You’re magnificent now, but I’m more at ease with how you were before… - I could destroy you with a mere thought if I wanted to…reduce you to dust with a single wish. Jacob knew every word Chad was saying was true. But, when Chad smiled down at him, he knew he had nothing to worry about. Chad’s wings folded into his back again, and his eyes reverted to their customary look. - He wants to know when you’ll join us. He wants you to take your place among the God’s. - He still talks to you? - No. He’s silent. He’s waiting for you. - I don’t know… this might all be too much for me. I don’t know what kind of God I’d be. - Deep down you know what you are… just like I knew what I am. Jacob did know what he was, but he was afraid to admit it. Afraid of what he would become. - But first… I need to thank you. Chad blew, and every stitch of Jacobs clothes disappeared. Chad grinned, and opened his mouth, revealing his tongue. As Jacob watched, his tongue lengthened and proceeded to move snakelike down his body until it wrapped itself around Jacob’s cock and balls. Before he knew it, Chad’s tongue was slowly jerking him off. The tip of his tongue licked his cock head, and teased the opening. Just when he thought he couldn’t take amymore, Chad effortlessly lifted him off of the floor until they were eye to eye. Chad grinned a wicked grin, and his tongue proceeded to lengthen again, making its way toward Jacob’s asshole. Within moments, he was being both jerked off and rimmed by the God that held him. Chad’s tongue entered Jacobs hold, sending shockwaves through him. What will I become…Jacob wondered as his friends huge tongue proceeded to enter him further and further, thickening as it went, and proceeded to start fucking him. What will I become? He knew it was far from human… even further than his friend had come, and that scared and excited him.
  13. 21 points
    This is my first story in quite a long time. I’ve been hesitant to share anything on the forum, but this idea struck me the other day and I’ve been working away to try and get it out before Christmas. This part is really just setting the scene, but I promise there’s a big payoff in the next part. Please enjoy, and let me know what you think! ___________________________________________ Noah had been planning this, in one way or another, ever since he learned that Santa was real. He of course had reached the same conclusion that many children reach as they grow older: that Santa was no more than a fixture of the season, utilized by parents everywhere to instill the holiday spirit (and ensure good behavior). What many children and parents didn’t realize, however, was that this aging out was entirely by design. Santa may very well be a man with incredible abilities: delivering gifts all around the world in a single night, flying a sleigh led by reindeer, even eating all the cookies and drinking all the milk that children left out. But Santa is after all still a man like everyone else. Sure he’s able to give children presents all in one night, but tweens? Teens? Young professionals? People in their midlife crisis? The elderly and infirm? It would simply be too much. For that reason, Santa works his magic to gradually age children out, allowing him to maintain a more manageable Nice List. Children gradually begin to suspect their parents are behind it all, and Santa uses a little bit of magical suggestion to make all parties involved believe it. But as I mentioned earlier, Santa is still a man underneath that red coat and holiday cheer. And like any man, he can make mistakes. Noah Lawson was just such a mistake. It had been innocent enough, just a last minute flight cancellation and a cobbled together plan for Christmas Eve. His mother, insisting that distant family was better than no family on Christmas Eve, had arranged for him to spend the night at his second cousin’s (more specifically his mother’s cousin) home for the night and then catch a flight the next morning to make it home for Christmas dinner. This would have been more than fine, except that the shuttle from the airport broke down not even a mile from the airport. By the time he managed to get back to the terminal, hail a taxi, and actually make it to his second cousin’s home, it was well past midnight. When Noah arrived that night, he was greeted by a house with darkened windows and a note on the door, barely legible in the warm light from the lamppost down the street. It apologized that nobody was awake to greet him, and asked him to let himself in quietly to avoid disturbing the kids upstairs. The note also directed him to use the guest bedroom off of the living room on the main floor. Noah did just that, quietly slipping in the house, down the entry hall, through the living room, past the fireplace and Christmas tree, and into his room for the night. As he was rummaging in his suitcase and getting ready for bed, Saint Nick was finishing making his rounds of the neighborhood. That last house was, as you may have guessed, the one Noah had just let himself into. Now Santa was generally very good about making his list. He knew who lived in which house, what general schedule they kept, and who needed presents. The list would also update to reflect guests, if someone was awake, and even if he had a chimney to go down or not. Santa was also very good about checking the list. Before he went through a new neighborhood, he would check for any changes on the list or any potential problems with delivery. Most of the time he would even check it twice. But this was not most times, and if it had been, he would have noticed the house he was currently descending towards had a new addition, a certain Noah L, and that said addition was currently very much awake. So as it landed on the roof, Santa’s sleigh made only the faintest of clacks against the shingles, a sound which wouldn’t rouse even the lightest sleeper. But, given that Noah was rather awake, he heard that thud ring out in the quiet house. Noah was a very cautious 18 year old, and for that reason he had visions of burglars rather than sugar plums dancing in his head as he peeked out through a crack in the door into the living room. This position gave him an excellent view of the fireplace as Santa emerged into the living room. If you asked Noah what it looked like, he would tell you that it was as if the fireplace gave a big sigh and blew a bubble at the same time, if the bubble was actually a large man in a red coat. Although Santa’s legs came first, it was hard to miss the large belly that followed, filling up that trademark red suit. The size of the gut wasn’t what surprised Noah the most, though. It was how spry the man seemed to be in spite of it as he went about his work. Pulling a large sack out of the hearth behind him, Santa stood to his full height (almost level with the top of the tree, Noah couldn’t help but notice) and pulled out an armload of gifts. He splayed them under the tree with expert precision, barely disturbing any of the gleaming ornaments. Noah couldn’t help but notice how the thick, cord-like muscles of his arms strained the fabric of his coat a little as he did so. Then Santa strode over to the milk and cookies left on a small tray by the hearth and downed them in a flash, giving a small belch as he finished. “Oof,” Santa grunted as he turned back towards the fireplace, “wish I was a bit stronger. Then maybe carrying this big ol’ spare tire would be easier with how big it gets by the end of the night.” And with that, the fireplace seemed to take a deep breath, and Noah was left gaping at an empty living room with an erection he wasn’t quite sure why he had. Though Noah only heard those two short sentences out of the man, they stuck with him through the next decade. They were in his mind when he decided to study biochemistry and pharmacology at college, when he kissed a boy and realized he never liked girls in the first place,when he went on to pursue his MD, when his gaze lingered a little too long at the burly men at his gym, and when he accepted a position at a well-known pharmaceutical company as a researcher. They were especially on his mind in late July almost 10 years later when he finally perfected his modification of a workout supplement the company was developing to help increase muscle mass and burn fat. It was from that point he began to formulate a plan for Christmas Eve that year, one he was sure both he and Saint Nick would enjoy. In August, he applied for a transfer to the research department in Anchorage. In September, he was approved and began looking for housing. In October, he found an excellent unit in a duplex with a lovely family living next door and moved in. In November, Noah had some problems with the fireplace and had some maintenance work done on the chimney. In early December, he began smuggling his modified supplement out of the lab and storing it at home in a jar innocuously labeled ‘Sugar.’ On Christmas Eve, Noah slid perfect gingerbread men onto a wire rack to cool, counting down the few remaining hours until his plan came to fruition. Noah had been planning this, in one way or another, ever since he learned that Santa was real.
  14. 20 points
    Here are the next couple pages... 😈💪🏻 Sponsorships always welcome: http://www.patreon.com/gymjunkiemuscle
  15. 19 points
    So, before you go all ‘religious’ on me and say you can save my soul just because you don’t think my career is holy enough, please know that I love being a hustler. Not only do I love it, I’m good at it, too. I’ve got a California surfer look that drives the men crazy– even down to the long blonde curls and tight body. I’m known as Golden Boy on the circuit and I’ve reached a point where I don’t really need to hustle on the street – since I have a steady stream of repeat customers – but I still like to go out some nights and feel the thrill of snagging some hot customer. If it’s a guy’s first time, I feel like it is Christmas. I love breaking in a newbie. Taking a dude that’s nervous and swears he only wants to cuddle and then opening them wide – both figuratively and literally - is such a thrill. I love a guy that begins by saying certain things are off limits and then later on is begging me to pound him again – even willing to double the pay for a second round. My reputation is as long as my member – not to mention as thick. So, it’s Friday night and I’m cruising on the corner just down from a hardcore gym in a rough area of town. I have a thing for muscle men, so I sometimes come here knowing I can snag a wondering bodybuilder that wants to try new things. I’m sometimes amazed at how the bigger a fella is the quicker his legs will go up in the air. Now, don’t judge me on that fact – just know that I’ve been taken home by big guys before that ended up being more feminine in the bedroom than your sweet old grandmother. Don’t worry, I’ve never slept with her, it’s just an expression. Besides, I only do men. Tonight I look especially hot, cut offs and a light blue tank top that makes my eyes pop in the light. I know my golden tan is ravishing and my lean, gymnast body makes me even more appealing. I turn down a few regulars who drive by and honk, telling them that they need to make an appointment just like everyone else. I’m a businessman, after all. And besides, if you haven’t called by Wednesday, don’t expect me to be going out with you on Friday. A guy’s got to live by some rules. I really love good manners. It’s the swagger I notice first. I immediately think this dude has put the grrrr in swagger. I can tell he’s big – more than double the size of me. He’s clearly been to the gym because his t-shirt is soaked. I can see matted hair underneath the white material – even from a pretty far distance. I can’t see much more of him, because of the light. He’s got on dark sweats, so I don’t get to have an advanced look at my favorite part of a guy’s body – thick muscular thighs. It’s not until he reaches a certain part in the sidewalk where a streetlight is shining down brightly. When he steps into what feels like a spotlight I stop breathing and I’m pretty sure my heart skipped a beat. If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if you put Sam Eliot’s older face on Lou Ferrigno’s giant younger body, then wonder no more. That’s what would give you an idea of just what made me freeze. I pride myself on being able to say a guy is handsome and I’ve even been turned on by the looks of guys in the past, but nothing could have prepared me for the avalanche of feelings that caved in at that point. The dude was stacked so densely you got the feeling he could accidently bump into a light pole and knock it down – ripping up the concrete beneath it. The bushy handlebar mustache that I associated with 70’s porn, the leather guy from the Village People, and what made a supreme muscle daddy was right there – draped across the upper lip of the man of my dreams. His arms seemed to be testing the strength of his shirtsleeves and I was pretty sure the shirt would lose if the dude flexed. If you called a protruding chest a pec shelf, then this guy was the entire library. The front end of some cars didn’t stick out that far. Silver streaks in his closely cut hair, his mustache, the stubble across his chin, and surely the fur I knew that cascaded across his chest only made him more handsome – more desirable. I also hoped there were gray hairs in the trail that led further below, too. This dude had my balls churning out juice the way a Ford plant cranked out cars. Instantly, I knew I had to have the guy. He had stopped to tie his shoelace, - a movement that highlighted his muscles in a way that was mesmerizing - so that gave me a chance to make a plan. I walked to the edge of the light, just beyond where all of my features would be clear. I wanted to have a few surprises. I waited for him to stand up – suddenly realizing that he towered over my normal height body. “Hey, Papa Bear, you got the time?” I saw him smile without even turning to look at me. He glanced down at his monstrous watch and then looked my way. “Yeah, it’s eleven fifteen. That’s a little late for a boy like you to be out, isn’t it?” His words stung a little, but then I realized his smile said that he was just equaling the banter I had begun. It also registered that his voice was a lower than a low baritone and it seemed to rumble through the air like thunder. I noted that my ball sac tightened at the sound. I stepped into the light. “Wowza, you’re a stunner, little man. One might even call you a pretty boy.” “One might even call you a muscle daddy.” “I do my best. Gotta keep the young guys chomping at the bit.” “It looks like you succeed.” We stared at each other for a few seconds. I could tell he was sizing me up – calculating all the things I had been able to figure out about him while I was hidden in the darkness. I noticed right away that he was even more roughly handsome than I had thought. The perfect amount of wise man wrinkles and slivers of silver that seemed to sparkle in the light in every place that hair grew. And he was massive. Not the kind of chiseled big boy one finds at gay discos on Saturday night, but the outdoors kind of big that was saved for Paul Bunyan or for strongmen competitors. His bent arm that was holding on to the strap of the huge bag dangling from his shoulder highlighted a biceps that romance writers would have described as ‘monstrous,’ ‘enormous,’ or ‘mountainous.’ I just called it unbelievably big, hard-looking, and manly. I could tell he knew I was looking at his arm. He did nothing to highlight it anymore, since he knew he didn’t need to. He was the next to speak. “You look like you surf?” “Why’s that?” “The tan, the natural highlights in your hair, the kind of body that’s produced by water resistance.” “I’d have to say you nailed it. You look like you lift.” “Well, I did just come from a gym.” “Yeah, but it’s more than that. You waddle . . . well, it’s more of a swagger, but it’s the kind of movement that’s usually reserved for guys who move around incredible amounts of weight. You know, a hell of a lot more than water resistance. How much you bench?” “A small car.” I briefly lost control and sucked in air. Thinking of that body pushing up a car was too much for me. My reaction made him smile again. This time, pearly whites – as straight as they come – were highlighted by the light overhead. I instantly liked making him smile and made a mental note to do it more often. I tilted my head to regain composure and get him to confess a more accurate answer. “I did chest tonight and broke my personal record. I pushed up six hundred and forty pounds.” “Oh my fucking goodness!” There was no way for me to hide my amazement or how much this information turned me on. I knew the world record was higher than that, but I had certainly never met a guy that could lift so much weight. My reaction, again, pleased him. I’m sure he was used to people gawking at him, but I got the distinct feeling he was happy I was so pleased. “That’s just a little less than four of you, isn’t it Golden Locks.” I immediately got the reference going back to when I had called him Papa Bear. I had also already figured out the amount of weight he benched was more than three times my body. He was pressing more than three of me – put together – into the air. It was difficult for me to even imagine. I decided to switch gears and get my mind off of his size and abilities. I thought it might be fun to continue with our little allusion to a children’s story. “Got any porridge at home, Papa Bear?” “I’ve got a lot of things at home. Some you can eat, some you can drink, and some you can play with.” “You like to play, big man?” Again with the smile, which was going to do me in very soon. He finally tensed his bent arm and the biceps swelled bigger and harder. He could see that my gaze immediately went to the muscle. “I do like to play, but I can be a little . . . rough.” “When you’re as big and strong as you are how can it not be rough.” “Exactly.” “And tell me, Papa Bear, do you have any chairs I would find just right?” “Not really, but my legs are bigger than a chair, so you might find my lap just right.” I think the look on my face must have given my passion for thighs away. The big man clearly registered how his comment had sent my head reeling. He decided to take advantage of the situation – right there and then. He reached down with his free hand and shoved his sweats to his knees – revealing some Calvin Klein tight briefs that were losing the battle of trying to stay tight around his enormous legs, but what else was there made me light headed. I had heard thighs described as redwood trees and kegs of beer. Never had I dreamed I would meet someone where those descriptions seemed weak and feeble. I could have cum on the spot – his giant wheels were enough to fuel my whack-off sessions for the rest of my life. I somehow, however, prevented my body from giving into its desire. I was very thankful that he finally pulled his sweats back up, but once something that majestic is seen you certainly can’t unsee it. “Something tells me Golden Locks would love to be caught between my massive legs and it would be fine for me to squeeze away.” “Fuck yes.” “It seems we have lost the confident banter, kid. I’ve reduced you to someone who just uses swear words.” “I just need a second to recover. That sight was unbelievable. I have a thing for thick thighs.” “Really, I hadn’t noticed.” Papa Bear took a couple of steps toward me. I had to crank my chin upward to look him in the face. The dude had to be six feet eight or more. His shoulders seemed wider than the dark sky. I held my ground, even though every fiber of my body wanted to move back. He noticed I wasn’t intimidated. “You haven’t asked Papa Bear about his bed, Golden Locks.” “Tell me about your bed, sir.” He stepped even closer. I could smell his sweat, mixed in with a manly musk that he must exude at all times. I had to tilt my head further back. “It’s big – like me – and very comfortable. I think you’d find it just right, kid.” “I think so, too.”
  16. 18 points
    PART 5b “I think we’d better go look for Wes now. Maybe we can still catch him if he just went home. Make sure Wes doesn’t find anything in here that would get us in trouble. He’s lax, but not that lax.” Froy nodded and made sure every tissue we used was thrown away in a plastic bag. We exited Wes’ office as quietly as we possibly could, yet it seemed like we were being watched by a million judgmental eyes. I looked around, but no one seemed to be looking. Froy and I had never really done anything with our relationship, but what we did in that office really just set everything in stone. Everything we’d been doing together up till this point was definitely worth it. I finally got to fuck Froy… or get fucked by Froy, really. In an unexpected plot twist by the great M. Night Shyamalan, Froy was a top. Maybe if we went on that company retreat, there might be a Part 2 in the not-so-distant future. The thought of it sent my ass into arrest, but I liked it that way. I liked Froy. As we headed back to my desk, I felt a strange sense of dread coming from behind us. I didn’t know what it was, but it almost felt as though a massive, starving animal was chasing its prey—us. Before I could even turn around to face who it was, a massive arm wrapped itself around my neck and pinned me against Froy. I reached up to pull the arm off but found myself trying to pry off a flesh sack of boulders. Thoughts raced through my mind. Thoughts like how easy it would be for whoever it was to have crushed my skull in that instant. My hands felt like a doll’s against all the gigantic mounds of muscle. Then I heard a familiar voice. “How are my favorite little boys?” Marcus asked. He pulled us in closer against his bulging chest. I could feel his mountainous, ballooning pec against my back as if a globe were being pressed against me. Every muscle on his body was stone-hard. A mere hug felt like I was being manhandled. I was surrounded by massive bulging muscles: his bicep, pec, forearm; but I was more afraid than aroused by just how much power Marcus had and how easily he could crush my head in his arm like a nutcracker. The old Fonz was nothing to Marcus now. “What the fuck, Marcus, is that you?!” I asked. “The one and only!” He laughed. “What—how big did you get?!” “Just an inch and a half taller and a few pounds and inches all over. Why? You got a problem with my size?” “No, I have a problem with you choking me! Do you mind letting go?” “Oh, sorry, forgot how strong I am. Here.” Marcus let us go and allowed us to catch our breath as he stood behind us, chest pumped and stuck out confidently. “Gotta say, I’m a bit surprised. I thought you’d enjoy the choking.” He was even bigger than the last time we met. It was as if he took his muscle mass and multiplied it by 1.5x. I hate math, but I couldn’t think of a better way to describe just how much bigger he was. I’m not the best guesser, but his arms were definitely at least 20 and a half now. He was almost two inches taller than Froy too, Froy who was 6’2”. The look on Froy’s face was pure horror, realizing that the man who was his equal in height just the night before was now looking down at him. He was nearly as wide as Froy and I side-by-side. Not to mention his disproportionate chest and shoulders being even impossibly broader than ever before, sticking out of his shirt like stone boulders stuffed under his skin. His already extra large shirt didn’t even fit. The very bottom of the hem just about covered his lower abs. “Fuck, you’re growing even faster.” Marcus smirked. He raised up both his arms to a flex and bit his lip as he urged them to bounce under the straining fabric of his dress shirt. They were highly defined and covered in veins. It wouldn’t be long until there was as much muscle in one of his biceps as one of my legs. Granted, my legs aren’t exactly too muscular, but still. “I know! Can you believe it? A whole inch and a half from last night! And look at all this muscle on me… shit. Can’t believe I used to be 5’11”. Being tall is great!” “How do you think I feel? I’ve been 5’7” my whole life. You’ve always been a big guy to me, but—” “But?” “But now, you’re just…” “What, big? Huge? Gigantic? Humongous? With how fast I’m growing, it won’t be long till I’m all of those things and more, little dude. Way more.” “I’m just feeding your ego, huh.” “Yeah, but it’s not like you hate it, do you? Wouldn’t you wanna just touch all of this?” He rubbed his hands across his muscled bulges, running across his humongous torso, cupping his pecs in his hands as though they were the biggest tits known to man. “Man, if you only knew how this felt. It’s too bad you didn’t get any of that meteor shit on you.” I didn’t even think I could wrap my arms around him anymore. He was almost a whole ten and a half inches taller than I was, and possibly had thrice as much muscle mass. Maybe even four. “What about you, pup? You planning on competing with me in the growth department?” he asked Froy. Froy was caught off-guard, still in whiplash from our little session in Wes’ office. “Uh, um, yes—no! No, sir.” “Good. You better not be. I’m gonna be the biggest guy around here. Actually, I think I already am! Maybe I’ll even get to grow so big I’ll get to hold the ceiling. Wouldn’t that be cool?” “Yeah.” I was getting aroused again. “That’d be cool.” “You wanna bet on how big I’ll be by next week? Like, maybe during the company retreat? I’d say bar night, but that’s too soon. I don’t want to give you much of a chance to win here.” “Sure. I’ll guess… 7 feet tall? $20. I don’t know how heavy you are, so I can’t guess your weight.” “Whoa, that’s a lot of fucking growing!” Marcus laughed, causing his pecs to bounce, begging for an escape from their confines. “Fine! I’ll guess, uh, 7 feet, 3 inches. $30. What about you, Froy?” “Oh, uh, maybe seven and a half?” “Shit, dude. How big do you want me to get?” Froy was sweating. Marcus chuckled and patted Froy’s shoulder in a friendly gesture. “No problemo, bud. I’ll grow as big as you want me to be! Just for you, too.” It was too bad Marcus wasn’t gay. “By the way,” Marcus said. “I caught Wes going down through the fire escape just now. You weren’t kidding when you said he got huge, Dory. Fuck, if I don’t keep up, he’s gonna outgrow me!” “The fire escape? What—what the fuck, I thought we weren’t allowed to use it? Isn’t it a rule that—” “Wes IS the rules, Dory. He lets me use it too when I need to sneak out so you don’t catch me.” “Fuck, did he say where he was going?” “Whoa, what’s the big rush? He just told me he was heading home. Big guy looked like he was about to pop a vein or something. What’d you need with him? Maybe I could help?” “No thanks, Marcus, we’re good. Thanks. Come on, Froy, let’s go.” I grabbed Froy by the hand and led him past Marcus. We were going to have to hurry the fuck up if we were going to catch up to Wes before he got home. If he got home, he would probably tell the guard not to let us in. With all those tic-tacs, he was definitely going to do what was the most obvious thing to do. As Froy and I walked past the massive wall that was Marcus, Marcus grabbed my shoulder and squeezed it just a bit too tight. It felt as though my shoulder was going to pop like an egg in his grip. He pulled me back. “Wait!” he said. “What?! That hurts, Marcus!” “I saw you and Froy coming out of Wes’ office. What were you two doing in there?” My heart pumped against my chest. “Nothing, we were just looking for something—” “You two were fucking, weren’t you?” Fuck. I was speechless, caught staring doe-eyed at Marcus like a deer in headlights. Froy and I looked at each other with wide, open mouths as we struggled to find the words to say. Marcus just stared at us with a raised eyebrow. The air of awkward silence was something we weren’t normally used to around one another. I had no idea what to say. “...How’d you know?” He smirked. “I didn’t. You just told me.” I sighed. “Fuck, you’re not gonna tell Wes, are you?” Marcus smiled at me with that big, ol’ shit-eating grin he loved making. “Yeah, man! You can trust me. I won’t tell anyone about it, don’t worry. You’ll just owe me a big favor.” “What is it?” “Not now, dumbass. Now, go. I’ve got my own business to do.” “Thanks, Marcus.” He blushed, turning away. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Friends are friends or something. Bye!” I took Froy again by the hand and led him to the fire escape. I myself had never used it before except during fire drills, so it felt like a trek through the forbidden lands. When Froy and I got to the steel door, Froy had to help me push it open because of my small stature. It was unfortunate, but what else was I going to do? For people like Froy to be strong, people like me had to be weak. If Froy was going to be big, I was going to be small. The fire escape was old and decrepit, looking as though it were a completely different building from our office. The walls were barely painted, the glass windows were covered in dust and smoke stains, and the floors and railings were filthy. The air was heavy with dust, making it hard to breathe. “Sir, I think someone died in here.” “Wouldn’t be surprised if someone did.” Froy and I rushed down to the parking lot outside. Wes’ van was no longer in his parking slot, so we were going to have to hurry. The world wasn’t ready for Wes to binge on those fucking tic-tacs. Nobody was. Froy and I got on a bus that drove up to the road leading to the woods leading to Wes’ condo. We didn’t have any time to waste. Wes was a good friend of mine, but I wasn’t about to let him do something to ruin his life forever. Froy and I were separated in the bus because of an unfortunate couple of people taking single seats, but it didn’t matter. All Froy and I could think about was stopping Wes in time. I never should have given him those fucking tic-tacs. It took the bus around half an hour to travel to the bus stop outside the woods. Why any sane corporation would build a condominium all the way out here was beyond me. The minds of rich conglomerates were an enigma. When Froy and I got off the bus, it almost felt like we were dropped off in the middle of nowhere. The woods were quite a ways away from the main city, and there weren’t many buildings around for a couple of kilometers. Finding anyone else here besides us was going to be like finding a unicorn in the Sahara Desert. Everything was quiet apart from the wind, rustling through our hair. Although I had to hold my shirt down to keep it from flying, Froy’s own button down seemed nailed onto his tight body, clinging onto his muscles. “Let’s go. We might somehow magically still be able to catch up to Wes.” “Maybe he might get hit by another meteor.” “Oh, hey, you made a joke. I’m proud of you, Froy.” Froy blushed. The two of us walked through the woods, enjoying the peace and quiet away from the city. For the first time in a long time, we could actually breath clean air. We could actually smell clean air. The orange light coming from the twilight sun peered through the trees’ leaves and branches, painting us in a sort of abstract artwork paired with the shade. Leaves rustled as birds flew in and out of the leaves. It was almost as though this patch of land was untouched by commercial greed and man’s violence. The road was littered with blades of grass and dead leaves, a mix of dull green and faded brown scattered across the contrasting concrete. It almost felt like we were entering a painting. Froy and I walked through the woods as fast as we could without getting too distracted by the beauty of nature all around us. The few times I went through the woods was in Wes’ van. Now that I was walking through it with Froy, it almost felt surreal. “Never realized how peaceful these woods are. Don’t you think it’s beautiful, Froy?” “Yes, sir.” By the time we reached halfway to the other end of the woods, twenty minutes had already passed. As we neared the “clearing,” I noticed that the woods weren’t as dark and thick as they used to be a couple of days ago. It seemed as though the shrubs had thinned out and the trees were disappearing. It was strange. I didn’t think much of it from where we were, but as we approached the clearing, two things became immediately apparent: one, the jungle that had taken over the clearing had completely died out; and two… Wes’ truck was parked alongside the road. “What—what happened to the clearing, sir?” Froy asked me. “I don’t know.” The once fully-loaded overgrown landscape that had taken over the clearing was now… a clearing—littered all over with massive, dead foliage. All the plants that had grown to twice their size, towering over all the woodland creatures and insects that devoured them, were dead. The entire place was covered in dead, dry, rotting plants as though they were unable to sustain themselves. Surprised by the change in the clearing, we forgot about why we came there in the first place. Wes was very likely still in his truck, masturbating himself to death. If there was anything Wes had in common with teens, it was the strongest urge to masturbate every two minutes. “Is sir in there?” Froy asked. Just as I was about to reply, the truck jostled in place as if something—or someone—exploded. I was absolutely fucking horrified. Every voice in my head was telling me not to approach the truck, but I had to make sure Wes was okay. Then I realized it was Wes. Of course he was okay. It was obvious what made the van jump, but I didn’t want to admit it. It was too big of a thought. “Come on, we have to make sure he hasn’t masturbated himself to death.” “Okay, sir.” As we approached the truck, a looming sense of dread hung over me. Wes’ truck was tinted enough that it was impossible to tell what was going on inside through the windows. I reached out and grabbed the handle to the driver’s seat. It was cold, freezing cold, only meaning that Wes had been in there for a reasonably long time. I hoped we weren’t too late. I grabbed the handle, only now needing to pull. There was nothing left to do but open it. Regardless of what I was about to witness, I had to make sure I wouldn’t be surprised. Stable footing was what I needed. I wasn’t about to let Froy see me like this. Not here. As I swung open the door, a sight that sent shivers down my spine spilled out from the doorway. In front of us was a massive, incomprehensible mound of muscle. Wes was fucking humongous. His entire body was jammed into the driver’s seat, with his knees pressed against the steering wheel and his head bent over the ceiling. We couldn’t even see past his gigantic size to see the other window. We were too late. One of his thighs alone looked as though it had as much meat in it as my entire torso, looking like a massive ham. It was unreal. His left arm that spilled out of the door was definitely already bigger than my leg—maybe even bigger than Froy’s leg. It looked like it would take me six hands just to wrap around his upper arm. A fucking bowling ball, it was. All his clothing had been torn off from the excessive growth. Wes turned his head the best he could, trying to maneuver through his own body’s muscles, just to take a good look at us. He smiled, unable to speak due to the tightness. “Wes…? What the fuck did you do?!” Wes’ eyes grew wide as he winced in pain. He was still growing! There was no way he was going to fit in that driver’s seat at this rate. He grumbled to himself as if to try and speak. In that instant, his body upsized even bigger, bumping into the ceiling. “Yo,” he grumbled. His body pulsated, inflating an inch at a time, bulging outward bigger and bigger, closer and closer to my face. He managed to squeeze out one mammoth leg in time, sending me down to the ground with its immense force. His thigh looked almost spherical with how packed it was with muscle fibers. With one leg spread out, his already gigantic cock seemed to have grown threefold. It looked almost as long and as thick as my arm. Not to mention how it glistened in the afternoon light, covered in buckets of cum. “Hey, fuck, Dory, could you help me out? I can’t move.” I could hear the ceiling creak as his head pressed against it. Wes groaned as he struggled to escape the shrinking truck. Before he could even move, the driver’s seat collapsed from his immense weight, sending him crashing into the backseat. Even with his torso in the backseat, it didn’t look like it’d be long till his waist got stuck between the passenger seat. His abs and lats were fully stretched out now, and his knees were nearly pressed against the ceiling. Each abdominal looked like it could fit two of my fists at once. “Man, there’s no fucking way I can get you out of there! You’re too big!” “Sir, I think you should just break the truck open,” Froy said. Wes let out a primal yell. “Damn it, Froy, this car cost me so fucking much!” he said. “Get out of the way, I’m breaking down the side!” Froy and I stepped back in fear. In my hurry, I didn’t notice a stone on the road and nearly fell on my back. Thankfully, Froy caught me and helped me out of the way. Just in time, too. Not a second later, the entire side of the truck came flying out onto the road. The noise was unbearable. All that steel and glass grinding against the concrete. Wes’ body was now fully exposed for Froy and I to see—packed tightly inside the undersized truck like a sardine. He slid out, causing the entire thing to creak and the wheels to give in. I gripped Froy’s hand so hard I almost thought I would crush his fingers. Looming over us both was a monolith—an obscenely thick Hercules with seemingly endless layers of muscle padded on. It would’ve taken three people to wrap their arms around just his ribs. It was impossible to put it in words. I’ve seen pictures of people appearing this big on the internet before, but this was surreal. Those were always morphs. This… this was real. Where I once used to look down on my short boss, he now stood buck naked in front of me, rigid cock pointing at me, and the crevice of his pecs staring right at my face-level. Each pec almost seemed like massive sacks stuffed under his skin. There was so much of him. His body heat, mixed with the odor of his sweat and cum, blasted my nose like a gas chamber. Froy almost appeared stick-like next to Wes, even after his first growth. “Guys, help me sit,” he said, stumbling in place. “I’m so dizzy.” “You’re fucking insane if you think Froy and I can carry you to the sidewalk alone. Have you seen yourself?” Wes shot me an annoyed look and growled. “Don’t argue, Dory, just do it! Did you forget I pay you?” He winced. “Ack, fuck…” He rubbed his head. Froy hesitantly stepped forward, offering to shoulder Wes’ immense weight. Wes grinned and threw himself onto Froy, throwing caution to the wind. Froy did not expect the sudden drop. I even caught his legs stumble a bit. “Thanks, Froy. Maybe you should take Dory’s job, huh?” “It’s no problem, sir.” As Froy struggled to walk with Wes, Wes’ massive cock complicated things. With every step, it would slam against Froy’s side. Froy shot me a look of exhaustion, frowning like a clown, straining every muscle on his body just to hold up this massive behemoth I was supposed to be working for. I took it upon myself to hold it in my hands. The cock, I mean. The damn thing was as big as Froy’s forearm and covered in fresh cum. It was almost as warm as an overheated vibrator. Eventually we got to the sidewalk next to the clearing and sat him down, causing the ground to rumble ever so slightly. If we didn’t know any better, we might’ve mistaken it for another meteor. Fuck that shit. Wes held his head with both his hands, appearing as though he were in pain. His boulderous arms were pressed together, emphasizing their size. “Hey, you okay?” I asked. “No, I’m really not. My head feels like it’s about to fucking explode.” He sighed. “My actual head this time.” “You’ve drunk more cum in one afternoon than I’ve ever produced in my entire lifetime. I wouldn’t be surprised if you caught something.” “...But I did… didn’t I? That—that meteor, the one that crashed, it gave me something… didn’t it?” Froy and I stared at each other in surprise. “You remember? Do you remember what you used to look like?” Wes winced in pain momentarily, struggling to word his thoughts for a few moments. Froy and I decided to give him some time to breathe. If he died out in the middle of nowhere, there was no fucking way either of us was ever going to carry all of him back by ourselves, especially now that his truck was in pieces. “Yes, yes, I do—AH!” He fell to his knees and held his head so tightly I thought he would break his skull open. We weren’t getting anything else out of him. Foam might as well have been seeping through his grinding teeth. His yelling could have easily been mistaken for a murder. “Wes, relax, don’t think about it anymore! Let’s just get somewhere safe so we can put some fucking clothes on you before someone sees us!” Froy hesitated, in fear that Wes might strike him if he so much as stepped any closer from where we both stood. He held my hand and gripped it tightly. “Sir, I’m scared.” “Don’t be. I need you here. If you’re scared, we’re never going to be able to help him.” Froy raised an eyebrow and looked down at me. “What do you mean, sir?” I felt my cock stir at just the thought of it. “You need to drain him.” There was a momentary pause as Froy gathered his thoughts amidst Wes’ yelling. I waited. I don’t know what got into me in that moment, but I wanted it. I wanted Froy to grow again. If I could shrink down Wes back to normal while seeing Froy get even taller and more muscular right in front of my eyes, what reason did I have to say no? “But sir, he’s so big! I’ve only done it one time.” “Nothing bad happened the first time, right? You even liked it!” “Sir, I was just trying to help you!” “And now you need to help us again! Please, Froy. You need to do it! Look at him!” “Okay, fine, sir! I’ll do it.” Froy creeped up slowly towards the ravaging Wes, step by step. It looked like a hunter trying to creep up on a rabid bear. As Froy drew closer, time seemed to stop. Everything was silent, and there was not a sound in miles. Wes seemed to calm down and catch his breath. He lowered his hands but kept his head down. Froy’s hand trembled as he reached out to grab Wes’ forearm, stretching his fingers and keeping his other arm close to his chest. Froy inhaled loudly and lunged for Wes’ forearm. Wes raised his head, staring at Froy with lethargic eyes, his mouth drooping. “Froy? What are you doing?” Froy was on his toes, leaning back in complete fear of the goliath in front of us. Not a word left his mouth. The longer he spent frozen in his head, the faster Wes seemed to gather himself. Before long, Wes was standing back on his two feet as if nothing happened. It was as if he’d been standing there for an hour, back to his brainwashed state. I walked up to him, frozen in place by the immense shelf of a chest looming over me. “How tall are you?” “7’4”, why? Didn’t you know? I thought we got over you being scared of my size months ago.” He flexed a mountainous bicep peak high above my head. “Man, I still can’t believe how big I am sometimes.” “Neither can I.” Froy stepped back, joining me in admiring the massive man’s size. I glanced at him, signalling him to come over. As Wes seemed to almost be flexing his entire body in front of us, standing idly, Froy snuck forward and stood face-to-face with Wes—face-to-chest, really. His hand trembled as he reached out. Wes didn’t seem to notice Froy’s much smaller self grabbing onto his rippling forearm. Froy raised his other hand and tugged at Wes’ arm. Wes was bound to notice. “What are you doing?” he asked. Froy looked up at the monster and froze, his hands still on Wes. It was then that it started to happen. Wes’ body trembled slightly. I noticed that he was starting to have difficulty standing up, losing strength and balance in his legs, probably due to his immense weight. Wes held his head as his eyes began to tire. “What’s happening?” he asked groggily. He fell to his knees, groaning. Froy was nearly thrown down just by Wes’ sudden collapse as his hands were still gripped on Wes’ forearm. On his knees, Wes was barely awake. Just like Fonz, miraculously, Wes’ size seemed to diminish. His once inhuman muscles that almost seemed to burst out of his skin were finally reapproaching normalcy—normalcy as a bodybuilder, still, of course. He was still humongous and absurdly tall, but his proportions were far more realistic now. Yet, all the while, he never seemed to notice. As his muscles continued to shrink and disappear, I also saw the beginnings of height loss. His stature started to shrink, losing fractions of an inch at a time. He was going from a goliath to normal sized in an instant. As his shrinking continued, he lost a good amount of size. He was smaller than a minute ago by a greatly noticeable fraction, his muscles diminishing at a great pace. It would still be tight, but Wes would fit back in his truck again. “How tall are you now, Wes?” I asked. “H-huh? What’s with that question, Dory? I’m… I’m 6’8? No, 6’... 7”.” It wasn’t until Wes lost another significant chunk of size that I noticed Froy was shifting in place as well. I looked over at him and saw him struggling to stand up, just like Wes. “Sir… this is a lot more to drain than last time. It’s a bit much—ah… !” He shuddered, his breathing increasing in intensity, moaning almost. “Froy, are you okay?” “Sir, it feels so—hnng—weird…” From behind, I could see that Froy’s back shirt seemed to be stretching outwards at a slight pace. His lats were beginning to really flare out, while his shirt was riding up his back, exposing the peak of his ass as his pants seemed to shrink. I looked over at Wes, and he still continued shrinking at a great speed, frozen in place. He and Froy seemed to be the same height, probably 6’4” now. Yet, while Wes continued to shrink, Froy’s body continued to fill out further and further, his growing musculature devouring his obscenely tight clothes. “Sir, I can’t breathe!” Froy muttered. “You’re kidding!” I said. “Okay, wait, I’ll, uh, should I take your shirt off?” “I think it’s—mmpf—too late for that, sir!” It looked almost painful just how much Froy’s growing muscles were struggling to contain themselves in his black shirt. While Wes shrunk, and Froy’s upper body inflated at a decent pace, his lower body was inevitably going to need to keep up. His slacks were already skin-tight before. Now, they were tearing at the seams, first at the waistband and then at his hips, falling apart without Froy moving a single muscle. It wasn’t long until Froy was in a painfully tight shirt and ragged slacks. I barely noticed Wes’ shrunken form behind him. He was finally back to normal proportions. He was more of a fitness coach than a goliath now, and he only continued shrinking, being absorbed into Froy’s body. “He looks about 6’ now, Froy. You can stop now if you want. Your shirt looks like it’s about to burst.” He was silent, moaning to himself. Froy squeezed Wes’ shrinking forearm in his meaty hands. He didn’t look like he was letting go. “J-Just a little more, sir… please… it just feels—ungh—so good...” “Froy?” He was deaf to me. As Wes continued to shrink, approaching my own height of 5’7”, Froy’s body continued to grow, widening outwards so much that his shirt tore at the sides, leaving his armpits and chest sides exposed, showing off just how full his pecs had grown. Wes, on the other hand, was almost completely out of it. His face was wide awake, but he seemed lost in himself. He wasn’t as limp as I was expecting, having almost 2 whole feet worth of height and muscle stolen from him. “Froy, I think Wes is getting a bit small. People might notice.” “Wait, sir, please!” I couldn’t let him continue. As much as I wanted Froy to keep growing, it was too dangerous to let Wes get any smaller. People were already going to notice the extreme changes. As I walked up to Froy, it was only then that I realized just how massive Froy had become. He was almost as muscular as Marcus albeit a bit leaner. The exaggerated triangle-shaped torso Marcus displayed was only a few inches wider than Froy’s own. I grabbed him by his newly-muscled arm, and tried prying him off of Wes. His arm, if he were scaled down to 6 foot, would probably have just been 18 inches, but being the tall 6’5” kid he was now, it would probably be much girthier. “Froy!” I called out. He turned to me in surprise and immediately let go, dropping Wes and causing him to collapse on the ground like a corpse. As Froy stood in front of me, the unnecessarily large young kid he was, I stood straight into his bulging pecs’ cleavage, pushing violently against the fabric of his shirt. It had begun to rip down the middle, allowing more of his chest to spill out, allowing more room to tear. “Sir, I-I’m sorry, I… I lost control a bit, I think,” he said, inspecting his new size. “I’m so… I’m so big now.” He was. I wanted to cup his tits with my hands and see how much I could grope. His manhood was spilling out of whatever remained of his tattered briefs. But, it was not the time. Froy turned to look at Wes and saw his diminished form, lying lifeless on the ground, alive, barely. While he stared at him in fear of what he would do next, I wasn’t. Having Froy stand mere inches in front of me, with so much size, so much power, I was getting intoxicated on him. He bent down, causing his slacks to tear down his ass. “Sir Wes? Are you okay? Sir?” He didn’t even notice his underwear was exposed. “Let him be, Froy. I think people get exhausted when you drain them just like Fonz did. He probably just needs to rest, poor guy.” I finally got my attention off Froy and turned to Wes. “My god, he really does look like a corpse.” Wes was nothing but a decimal of what he used to be. The once 7’4” goliath was now back to his normal height of 5’6”, with just enough muscle and chub to still hold enough meat on his bones. He still had pretty sizeable muscles for his size, thankfully. It was a miracle he was never going to remember this. The hard part was explaining Wes and Froy to everyone else in the office—Marcus included. Then I remembered the tic-tacs. “Froy, could you pick him up and set him somewhere to sit? It might be better than leaving him on all these rotting plants. He might get infected… with something else, of course. I’ll just go check out the truck. I need to see if he did what I think he did.” “Sure, sir.” Froy lifted up the naked Wes in his arms, causing his biceps to bulge and pull his sleeves up to his shoulders. “He’s so light now. So small.” “Don’t crush him.” Froy chuckled. “I won’t, sir.” At the truck, I stuck my nose in my shirt, unable to handle the intense pungency of the cum that still lingered inside. It was everywhere. The seats, the wheel, the flooring, even the damn cupholders, were covered in the same white sludge. On the ground were the remnants of his clothes that same morning when we met him for lunch. There wasn’t a dry piece of string anywhere on there. Then I saw it. The same bottle of tic-tacs I gave him, lying on the dashboard: empty. “Fuck.” I took the bottle with me and put it in my pocket. Who knows, it might’ve helped us in the future. Considering this small pack was the reason we were all stuck in this mess in the first place, I’d say it had some sentimental value attached to it. All our lives would never go back to the way they were before. As if things couldn’t get any worse, just on cue, I heard a yell from outside. “Froy?!” I yelled. “Sir!” he yelled back. “Something’s wrong with Sir Wes!” I dropped what I was doing and ran back to the clearing where Froy was staring down at something on the ground. Wes was not in his arms. “Where’s Wes?” I asked. Froy raised a big arm and pointed at the naked Wes, sitting down on a strange rock formation in the middle of the clearing. The stone itself was strangely roasted, black as charcoal, as if it came from a volcano—or the sky. Wes’ hands were wrapped around his head, as if he were trying to crush it between his fingers. “I just put him down to sit on it, then he started yelling and holding his head!” Froy said. “What did I do, sir?!” “Relax,” I said. “I think… you might’ve just put him on the meteor?” “It looks like it’s doing something to him.” Froy and I watched as Wes slowly, but surely, began to calm down. His breathing slowed to an even pace, his hands released his head, and he eventually came to. We held our breaths as we waited for something to happen. Wes had stopped his pained panicking and was now simply breathing, staring at the ground beneath his legs. “Where… where am I?” “You’re, um, at the clearing, Wes. How’re you feeling?” “Like Adam in the Garden of Eden. Buck naked and full of sin. How do you think I’m feeling?” “Do you remember anything?” “You wouldn’t believe it, but… I do.” I knelt down and stared him straight in the eyes. “What do you mean you ‘do’? How much do you know?” “More than enough. I’ll tell you more if you get up so it doesn’t feel like I’m knighting you. I’m not Queen Elizabeth. Let’s save the roleplay for the bedroom.” I got up off the ground and sighed, looking back at the big guy behind me. “Great,” Wes said. “So first of all, let me just say this: please get me some clothes.”
  17. 17 points
    “Who is this, dad?” I asked, handing him a picture from a box as we sorted things in the attic in preparation for his and my mom’s upcoming downsizing move. “Oh my god, Stuart Rock! He was my best friend freshmen year. I refrained from saying that the last name suited him. My dad’s acceptance of me being gay came with a few caveats – not talking about men I found attractive being one of them. Besides, I had never confessed to him my particular fetish for big muscles – something that was reserved only for online oogling and in-person groping at muscleman shows at Big Dick’s bar in the city where I now lived. I toned down the excitement in my voice, but was unable, however, to tone down the excitement in my pants. I was luckily kneeling behind an open chest. “It seems he liked the gym,” I said, trying desperately to keep my voice level, tending to squeal when I encountered muscle was an uncontrollable habit. “Yes he did. He had gotten into powerlifting in high school and came to our university on a scholarship for that sport. He won a lot of championships that year,” my dad explained taking another look at the picture and then handing it back to me. “Throw it in the discard pile.” “Are you sure?” I asked – allowing a little of my excitement about the possibility of sneaking it into my ‘take home’ pile to escape. “Yeah. He left after freshmen year and I never heard from him again,” my dad replied, grabbing another pile of pictures to sort through. “Why did he leave?” I asked. “I really don’t know. We were assigned as roommates that first year and got really close. He was so easy to be friends with – outgoing, funny as hell, and a gentle giant. He used to complain about everyone being afraid of him since he was so big and strong – and he was amazed at how it never bothered me. I guess I didn’t really think of him that way. He was just Stu, my roommate. A guy who could outdrink anyone on campus,” my dad explained further and seemed a little distracted by some Christmas pictures from when all of us five kids had been little – probably trying to figure out the year. He then looked up and unexpectedly added, “On our last night together we were both a little drunk . . . okay, a lot drunk . . . and before we went to bed he hugged me tight and told me he wouldn’t be returning the next year. He said he had to go somewhere that he could be his true self and that wasn’t our university. As a matter of fact – if I’m recalling it correctly – he moved to where you are.” Just then, my mom called from the bottom of the stairs telling Dad she needed his help with something. My dad rolled his eyes and moved toward the stairs. Once he was gone I stared at the picture. My ‘gaydar’ was on high alert – and not just from what my dad had said. The picture, itself, had stirred something familiar in me. I turned it over and was surprised it said, “To Don (my dad), with much respect and love. SR.” I ran my fingers over the words and swore I could feel the raw emotions that were raging through the big man as he wrote them. I looked at the picture again. Stu was magnificent – a big barrel chest with pecs ripe for sucking, arms that could hold a guy up in the air as he walked around the room, traps that screamed for hands to try and squeeze them, and hands that were made for holding. Stu would have been somewhere in his late fifties, early sixties now. I decided right then and there I would do a little sleuthing when I returned home. The picture was placed between my grammar school report cards and the stack of letters from my grandmother from her visits to Florida for its escape from my parents’ attic. Two weeks later, I stood in front of a condominium only five blocks from where I lived. An internet search, something my dad had clearly never thought of doing, revealed that Stuart Rock owned three gyms throughout the city and a few other establishments that were not named. I was kind of bummed that my search did not produce any recent pictures of the man. I had come to this point only on a hunch and part of me contemplated turning around, leaving, and never coming back. I forced myself to ring the doorbell before logic won out. Going with gut feelings was one of my fortes. I had already decided I would get confirmation about my theory in the first few seconds of meeting Stu. All of my life I had been told I was a bigger, more handsome exact version of my dad when he was younger. I figured my face would say all I need to an introduction. The door opened and my knees instantly wobbled. Graying hair, a few wrinkles, and wire framed glasses were the only things different from the picture I held in my hand. Stuart Rock was shirtless and in shorts – and he was even slightly bigger and with even more pronounced bulges than when he was in college. When he saw my face he whispered the word ‘Don’ and his expression confirmed everything I had suspected. He instantly smiled. “You must be Russ,” he said. “How did you know?” I asked – amazed that he knew which of dad’s four boys I was. “You’re the only one who lives here,” he replied. I held up the picture and as he took it he said, “Oh my god. Look how young I was.” He immediately turned over the picture, got a little misty eyed, and ran his fingers over the writing from all those years ago just like I had in the attic. When he looked up at me, two things were perfectly clear. Stuart Rock had loved my dad – he probably still did – and he fully understood why I was here. “Come in, Russ,” he said, moving his big frame back from the door so I could enter. “Let me grab a shirt, I wasn’t expecting company.” “I wish you wouldn’t,” I boldly said, looking him in the eye and confirming everything he was thinking. “It’s actually nice seeing that the real thing is even better than what I’ve been fantasizing since I found the picture. It’s a pretty amazing thing when you see a big man not able to control himself. It’s wild seeing someone so huge and obviously powerful lose the fight for what is supposed common good manners. My comment and my sudden appearance had clearly unleashed something so primal and repressed in Stu that he simply could not think straight. The larger than life object of my lust stepped closer to me, wrapped a big hand around my neck and pulled me in for a kiss that had waited for over thirty years. I was no gay fool. I kissed back as if my life depended on it. I knew I wasn’t my dad and I’m pretty sure Stu didn’t think I was, either, but I was actually something much better. I was a gay man that loved big muscular guys and I was related to Stu’s first love. Later, he would tell me that first kiss expelled all desire for my dad inside Stu. He still loved my dad, but having someone ‘like’ him was far better. Within thirty minutes I was exploring those powerful arms, sucking on those monstrous pecs, squeezing his hard traps, and feeling those big gigantic hands lift me in the air. I was also living out the definition of ‘lovemaking.’
  18. 17 points
  19. 16 points
    Hey guys! This is my first post here, this is only the first part so there isn’t much growth, but there is some in the next few parts, I hope you enjoy! Part 1 Working in a gym had its advantages, and it’s disadvantages. I would also come home smelling of sweat, but I could see dudes grow, and that wasn’t all that bad. Until Dominic walked into my life. He was skinny, yet slightly muscular, but he wasn’t the type to let that stop him. He came into the gym every day, without fail, and lifted until he was worn out. I would stare at Dominic often, but one time he caught me, looked over at me and winked. I felt my body go funny, he really was something. A few months passed and I started to notice the same elephant grey shirt he wore to train in, started to get tight. He was making good progress, once again I was staring at him, his defined back, his impressive glutes, and Dominic noticed me. He walked over and all I could think was “oh shit, what do I do?” He strutted over, some how showing off that ass of his, yet still seeping with masculinity. “I noticed you were staring at me, you like what you see?” His voice was so deep, I just didn’t get it? How could such a twink, be so masculine. “Haha, sorry dude, I just like seeing people’s progress. Working in a gym really helps you see what people are capable of” “Sure thing man.” He walked off, once again showing what his “momma gave him” and headed towards the showers. I needed more of him, something about him just made me feel something. I continued cleaning, until I needed a piss, so I headed to the showers, and surprise surprise, who did I see? Dominic. Butt-naked, shit man he was hung like a horse. A creature of constant surprises he seemed. He was facing the lockers, so I snuck past and headed to the toilets without him seeing me. I unbuckled my pants, and got my tool out. I was quite proud of my cock, despite it not being as big as Dominic’s, I still was packing considerably. After my piss I headed out, but quietly, to avoid more questioning from him. I walked past the lockers and suddenly I could see a head over the lockers, he must’ve been at least 6”6 as the lockers were around 6 foot tall. Watching him closer, I saw his back was defined with hundreds of muscles all seemed to be bulging, yet they weren’t flexed at all. His triceps rounded backwards, inches from his arm. They were huge, and funnily enough, so were his biceps. They had to be at least 30 inches around. I could only see his arms upwards, which was saddening, but nonetheless it was a beautiful sight. His neck was extremely thick, thicker than anything I had ever seen. And his traps, sweet Jesus, they pretty much tickled his ears they were that big. I tip-toed comically towards the door, but I accidentally kicked a bench, making a huge screeching sound against the tiled floor. The muscle monster turned around, I looked down straight away, his cock was huge. It dangled past his knees, his thighs reached almost the diameter between two lockers, and his ass. His ass was huge, a proper rugby players bubble butt, which would make any top drool. I instinctively turned my head to his face, and it was Dominic. He looked embarrassed. So was I, a huge tent in my joggers had formed from looking at him, and the creature before me justified it. “Fuck man, how are you so big? How did you grow within minutes?” “Uh..h..h, I don’t know man, leave me alone.” He voice was even deeper, several octaves infact. That just made my cockhead leak with pre. I ran out, a hot mess. I was shaking, I had seen plenty men like this before, yet he just seemed bigger. Questions instantly flooded my mind. “How was he that big?” “How did he grow?” I clocked out of this mentality, and instantly began finishing my shift. I didn’t see Dominic again for the rest of the evening, so I headed home. I flung my keys on the side, and stripped down to my socks. I jumped on my bed and instantly began to feel myself. Just the images of today stimulated me. I continued to rub with my right hand, as I grabbed the computer with my left. I didn’t need porn, my own mind was the best website I could use. Instead I went on Facebook and searched his name, after some clever detective skills I found it. Just as I thought, he was skinny, but still showed progression. Was it really him I saw today? It must be been, it looked just like him. That huge arse, those monumental thighs. The traps that jut threatened to push past his head. His cock which could’ve qualified as a third leg. That thick purple cockhead begging to be sucked, all this thinking put me to my climax. My cum hit my chin, then my chest, and then just leaked a bit. Man that was intense. I’m hoping Dominic comes to the gym tomorrow, I need answers. I need to know more about him.
  20. 16 points
    It took most of my strength not to grab the guy and squeeze him so hard I’d probably had broken something. I just had this intense desire to hug him – to show him how I felt about him. He was pinching my hard nipples through the heavy shirt I was wearing and mumbling to himself quietly. I caught snippets of what he was saying – so huge, hard as hell, gonna piss on myself - and stuff like that. I could tell he was in some sort of muscle worship fantasy world and he did not want to be disturbed. That was fine with me; because not only were my nips getting pleasured roughly, I was also getting to take a closer look at the guy. It was very dark in the back room of “The Pit,” my favorite bar, but I could still see him clearly. I liked to come here because I fit in – the place was full of huge older men looking for young pups they could take care of. I was the definition of a muscle daddy. At ‘The Pit’ I was also known as the king of muscle daddies, because no one came close to matching my daddiness. I loved smaller guys that were into worshipping. I also loved a young buck that needed a wisdom figure to lead him. I didn’t care if people judged me or not, but it was good to be in a place where other guys got off on the same things I did. I had become good friends with many of the other huge older men that frequented the place. We even shared our pups, sometimes – or warned each other about dudes that weren’t worth the fuss. The guy chatting with himself in front of me was probably twenty-five – more than half my age. He was about two hundred pounds lighter and possibly eight to ten inches shorter, too. I was in daddy heaven – taking in how small he was. He fit the bill physically and I was hoping he’d have the internal affinities to make him a proper pup. He was a little more built than I liked ‘em, but that was fine. He had a wiry body that looked beautifully knotted in all the right places. It was a gymnast’s build and that made me hope he was very flexible. He kept his hair short and neatly trimmed – something that I insisted my pups do, so he was already doing well and we hadn’t even left the gate. He dressed the part, too – a Ralph Lauren button down, some khakis, and loafers with no socks. I was such a sucker for little prep boys. In college I had plowed my way through the Sigma Epsilon frat house and I still had a thing for ‘gators.’ That was a nickname I created because of my dick-hardening lust for all things Izod. If a dude wore bright red pants and a pink shirt I could cum on the spot. I was just into little prepsters and I didn’t apologize for it. Every now and then the little guy would squeeze my huge nubs just right and an intense thrill would shoot through my entire body. This is what made me want to crush the dude in my arms – not out of meanness, but because I wanted him so much. My big chest was like an avalanche of muscle spread out thickly wide before the guy. He’d stop his nipple play every now and then to cup his hand under one of my enormous pecs jutting behind the material of the shirt and he’d try to push up but the thing was too heavy and too stubbornly hard to move. This would make the guy squeal a little and then his mumbling would intensify. I had a feeling the kid could have played with my shelf all night long, but I had other plans. I reached down, grabbed him by his ass, and lifted his body upward. His legs wrapped around my waist instantly – a move I figured he had dreamed about all of his life. I knew I was showing off and that people in the bar were probably thinking I was acting crude, but I didn’t care. I was a big muscle daddy and making some pup almost cream in his pants because I could pick him up so easily was what I was supposed to do. I distinctly heard the dude let out an “oh god yes” as I moved him toward a stool at the bar. People parted as we moved through the crowd – some clearly jealous of my little friend. They wanted to be carried, too. I put the prepster down on the stool and then leaned his back against the bar behind him. He kept his legs locked around my waist – his feet hooked together just above my bulbous butt. His hands were still latched onto my man plugs and he was twisting even harder. I pressed my growing hardness into his balls and ass – kind of gently shoving his back against the wood of the bar. I wasn’t being abusive – it was just a natural reaction to his teasing grip on my nipples. While I had carried him the short distance I had marveled at how huge my hands felt holding his body. He was a decent sized guy, but compared to me he’d be considered pretty small. Or maybe I’d just be thought of as freakishly big. Either way, I was wild about how my thick long fingers could hold his tight ass even in one hand if I had wanted to. A thought shot through my mind – I wondered if I would have been able to palm the dude’s butt and hold him upside down. That would have been impressive. The fella twisted my nips perfectly and this caused me to slam my giant meat into his ass, which – in turn – slammed his body against the bar. I could tell he loved it, but it did cause him some pain. “Sorry man, but if you don’t let go of my nipples soon I’m not going to be responsible for any of the damage I cause to your body or this bar,” I threatened. He instantly lessened his grip on my protruding nubs – mainly from fear – but he also smiled broadly, clearly proud of the fact that he could bring me to a point of no control. He quickly spread his palms out on my chest and started massaging the mounds of muscle – mesmerized at how huge my upper body was. While he tried to see how many of his hands it could take to cover my entire pec shelf I, again, got a chance to look at the little guy. I swear if he told me his name was Biff later on I was going to gush out such a big load that he might need a life jacket. He was such the little preppy-meister. Dark wavy hair that looked like it was trimmed every week, green eyes the color of lagoons I’d swam in while visiting Hawaii, and an air about him that made it clear he was even more my type than previously thought. Even though I was a bona fide, card-carrying, little-pup-dominating muscle daddy that didn’t mean I was a babysitter. If a dude needed me to be his everything – his source of income, his self-esteem booster, and even his ass-wiper – then he was usually only good for some throw-down time in bed for one night. Being somebody’s daddy does not mean I think for them – it only means I try to influence what they think. It’s actually more stimulating for the older, wiser alpha if his pup is someone that questions things, argues sometimes, and, yes, even challenges his elders. I did not need a wimpy dude that sat on the sofa all day eating Bonbons. No, I needed someone that was successful and confident, himself. That made being a daddy so much more interesting – more fun – and exactly what I wanted. If a well-educated, well-motivated guy submitted himself to a daddy it was the ultimate compliment. A guy that is energetic and ‘in charge’ in other parts of his life, but wants to come home and let someone else be the lead is so much more appealing than someone who doesn’t care. I did not want to get my hopes up, but signs pointed to the probability that this guy was a muscle daddy’s dream come true. He was drinking scotch that cost four times the amount of what I usually ordered and he was wearing a Movado watch – at what people would call a biker bar, no less. I decided it was time to find out a little more about this potential pup. “What do you do?” I asked, loudly – to draw him out of his lustful trance of my chest. “Big mature men,” he replied, looking me in the eyes. I saw confidence in those pools of green and it made me thrust my crotch against his ass hard. He moaned a little – again loving the fact that he could make me react that way. I made a face – trying really hard to show my disapproval even though his answer had thrilled me. Well, the tone of his answer had thrilled me the most. “Oh, you mean for work,” he said – clearly getting the fact that I was teasingly not pleased. He took an apologetic tone and added, “I own an internet company.” He then went on to name the company and it was one I recognized. I also knew the company had recently gone public. I further knew it was reported that the owner had become a billionaire. He recognized in my eyes the fact that I knew all of this. He also quickly gathered that it satisfied me in some way. He was like a sprinter that had just made it over the first hurdle. I watched a specific shift in the man’s attitude at that moment and realized it matched the new paradigm I was moving into, as well. I was moving, for him, beyond that ‘this is just a big hot older man I’ll let fuck me for one night’ starting point. We were beginning a little muscle minuet that was certainly going to last for a while. He needed to test the waters, too. “What do you do?” he asked. “Little preppy men with tight asses,” I replied. He tried to make a disapproving face at my answer, but it was kind of hard to hide how much what I said thrilled him. This time, he actually shoved his butt into my still-hardening cock and we both let out soft moans. He smiled at me, but made it clear he was going to wait until I gave an honest answer. “I own a construction company and have multiple properties around town,” I answered and loved how this answer thrilled him. It was clear that he, like me, had always hoped to find a muscle daddy that didn’t need supporting. I went on to blow his mind by telling him the name of the company and a few of the places I owned. I didn’t mention all of them because I didn’t want him to be intimidated. “So, the big daddy has some brains, too, I see,” he said – and I could immediately sense it was a huge compliment. “And I see the little pup doesn’t need someone to take care of him,” I said, choosing my words carefully because I needed him to answer in a specific way. “That, my big friend, depends on what you mean by ‘take care of.’ Do I need someone to put food on my table? No. Do I need someone to take me to the opera? No. I do, however, need someone to put me in my proper place and keep me there,” he answered – and the seriousness behind what he was saying was quite clear. My cock was now fully hard – mainly because I was suddenly realizing that this creature in front of me, this small man I could easily toss around physically, was teetering near my ideal mate. I knew there were still hurdles to jump over – probably for me, as well – but I was beginning to sense that we understood each other on a level that was imperceptible to other people. I pulled my big arms forward – causing the dude to come off the stool. He was, again, held in my big hands – crotch against crotch and his face a half a foot below mine. I looked down into his eyes and felt an electric charge that seemed both familiar and totally new at the same time. I could see in his expression that he felt the same way, too. “I don’t need a kid, if that’s what you mean. Let someone else change your diapers. I do however need a . . .” I paused to collect my thoughts and then continued, “I do however need a guy that I can tame, mentor, spar with, and dominate.” Part 2 The last word actually made his cock twitch hard. I could feel it next to mine. His entire body seemed to vibrate, as well, as if in unison with his stiff meat. I could have sworn the guy whispered the word ‘finally’ but it could have just been my own hopeful imagination. I could feel his ass clamping tightly together, as well. I didn’t know exactly what was causing his reaction, but I knew I liked it. Again, it took almost all of my strength not to squeeze the dude so hard that something broke. It was like I wanted his body to melt into mine. I had a need to be so close to him that a mere hug wouldn’t and couldn’t be enough to satisfy. Instead, my big paws squeezed his hard ass tightly causing the dude to wince a little, but he also gurgled something aboutThe me being ‘so big and strong.’ I knew it was best to distract myself from my intense desires of the moment, so I went back to asking questions. “What’s you name, kid,” I said, smiling at his face. “Bradley,” he replied. It wasn’t Biff, but it was close. He definitely looked like a Bradley and I bet he was a ‘the second’ or better yet ‘the third.’ That would make things even more complete. Hearing his name made me want to flex my guns, so I tensed my arms as I held his body at my waist. His eyes shot exactly where I hoped they would when my biceps swelled thicker. He mouthed some words but it wasn’t hard to see they were ‘fuck yeah.’ This high-powered businessman, this preppy ‘I come from old money’ dude clearly got off on things more powerful than him. I bet he owned a fast car. I bet he employed a trainer that looked like a trainer should – huge, hot, and virile. I bet he loved to skydive. The guy probably loved being near things that reminded him of his own mortality – his limits. I was pretty sure he loved anything that could subdue him. That’s why my arms easily caught and kept all of his attention. He could feel the power of my guns, since they were easily holding him in the air, but looking at their power – taking in their hugeness and beauty along with knowing what they could do – that’s what turned him on even more. It was like he was some kind of tactile learner, who needed to see and experience things to believe them. But he definitely loved it when things looked powerful. I could again feel his cock twitching for joy as he gazed at my tensed arms. There’s something special that happens to a mature muscle man when he figures out some young thing is attracted to his daddy strength and size. It’s hard to explain, but there’s a switch that goes on inside the big man’s head and he instantly intuits what will make the other guy happy. I’m pretty sure it comes with age and not just from being big. I’ve seen some big men in my life that had no idea how to please little fellas. But give a muscleman some years and a whole lot of experience and the wisdom flows as easily as a posing routine. My dick registered the little pup’s reaction to my tensed arms way before my brain did. It’s like the synapses from what my hands were feeling and all that my eyes were witnessing decided to go south first, alerting my cock to potential pleasure before it did the same for my brain. The pup’s expression as he gaped upon my massive biceps signified another hurdle had been leapt over in this little muscle tango he and I were doing. I was passing some test, moving to the next round, and being moved to the front of the class in this guy’s opinion – and that was just as important as him getting to new levels in my estimation. In order for a young small buck to want to be controlled, subdued, or dominated he needs to trust his master completely. He’s got to want his master completely. I learned a long time ago there are guys out there that say they love big men, but I quickly realized they knew nothing about true muscle worship. Let me give all my big muscled brothers a little word of advice – if you come across small dudes who think that worshipping your big bod is only about them touching or you flexing please turn around and run. For one thing, the verbal ascent to worship needs to be intense and should almost equal the final explosion. A true worshipper is not afraid to talk about your huge muscles or their thirst for said mounds of beef. A sure sign of a lousy worshipper is a silent worshipper. Another way of weeding out unsuccessful worshippers is listening close to their terminology. If a small dude can only say ‘I love your fucking huge arms’ and ‘Wow, what a giant chest,’ it’s more than likely you have only a muscle whore on your hands. Don’t get me wrong – there’s a place for muscle whores in every big man’s life, but they aren’t meant to be long term. They’re good when you want to just get a superficial boost to your ego. These guys are what I call the lightweights. They usually shoot their loads before you even get fully charged – mainly because they just love bulges – and not what has gone into making those bulges. These shallow dudes will squirt all over the place as soon as you flex a little or let them touch your body. Rarely are they concerned about you getting off and the thought of you being a little rough makes them go nelly screaming out of your apartment. Like I said before, there’s a place for such guys in the world – but I’ve grown wise in my old age and I’ve learned to look for something much more substantial – something a lot deeper. A true muscle daddy worshipper appreciates your wisdom as much as he appreciates your size. He’s into your bulges – I guarantee that – but he’s just as excited about seeing how those muscles influence your daddy psyche, as well. The guys that turn out to be keepers need their big man to be three-dimensional. A good little pup’s says about his muscle daddy, “He, of course, needs to have the body from hell, but he better have the attitude from hell, too.” I’m not talking about being some ax murderer or psychopath – I mean the muscled dude has to have a cockiness that enables him to squeeze his pup’s neck hard for a greeting or can make flirts back away from his pup with just a low growl or an intense stare. If a young stud is a real worshipper he’ll be looking for the daddies that have the third aspect of a complete package – the big man has to have experience. This is why most young men can’t reach true muscle daddy-dom. They don’t have the years that make them fantastic kissers, charming beyond your wildest dreams, pro sexual athletes, and – most importantly – men with a sixth sense about exactly what will make their pup happy. It’s, of course, rare that such specific and powerfully-charge individuals can find each other, but it does happen. I knew many couples that were living in daddy-pup bliss and had been for years. Unfortunately, that special prize had eluded me for all of my life. I had been with some fantastic guys – but most of them had merely turned out to be muscle whores. They were into my hard beef, but could not have cared less about my thoughts, my wisdom, or my need to truly dominate a guy. Let’s stop and get one thing straight – the word dominate has gotten a bad rap in recent years. Everyone views it as something negative or demeaning. I think the great work in the area of spousal abuse had really brought the wrong kind of attention to the type of domination I’m referring to. In the muscle daddy world – to dominate means there first had to be an invitation. It’s like the big man is standing on the side of the ballroom and he only enters the dance if some young pup walks up to him and asks. That’s why most of my evenings with so-called muscle worshippers merely ended in them getting off on my massiveness. That’s all they wanted. But it can be so much more – it can be so much more empowering to be dominated. It’s when that special someone trusts you so completely and needs you so completely that they actually request you to become something special for them – something more powerful. That’s when the true magic happens. That’s when lives change. And what’s crazy – what you might not fully understand – is that the dominator is subdued, as well. He becomes a slave to his pup. There’s no way for you to fully understand until it happens to you, but let’s just say that you give up all rational thought when you become somebody’s full fledge muscle daddy. You become their protector, their trainer, their disciplinarian, and so much more – but you also become tied to them in a way that all the fucking strength in your body could not undo no matter how hard you try. You become theirs as much as they become yours. So, you can see how thrilling it could be to pass certain hurdles in this dance the young pup and I were doing. I could feel my own heart swelling with hope – with anticipation over what the next few hours could bring. I had been on the precipice many times before – only to be a solo jumper, the would-be pup preferring the safety of the ledge instead of joyously falling into the abyss of true muscle worship. My fantasies of what might be had taken me to some other place and the pup had finally torn his eyes away from my bulging arms to notice (another sign of a true worshipper – caring about what was happening with the daddy). He wanted to bring me back into the glorious here and now. “And what’s your name, sir?” he asked, clearly knowing full well what the word at the end of his sentence would do to me. To a muscle daddy – a good one – hearing the word ‘sir’ sends a jolt to his balls that equals the electricity it takes to light up a small town. My mother always made me use the words ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ to show that I was raised right and I think it is a very similar situation when pup’s say ‘sir.’ This dude was sending me a message with a simple three-letter word. He wanted me to know that he was raised right when it came to respect and adoration of elders. He also wanted me to know that he had some basic knowledge in the world of submission. Since gay men were now allowed to live such open lives the new ‘in the closet’ was when it came to fetishes. Gay men today had learned to talk in code to make clear what they were into – or what they weren’t into. The word ‘sir’ was definitely part of the muscle daddy worshipping scene – and it was used frequently to help others know if they could proceed with their flirting or not. The pup was clearly inviting me to move to the next level of our ever-evolving understanding of each other. We were peeling back the layers of the onion until we got to the core – the place where we both would be free to assume the roles we both desperately wanted. Each of us, however, knew to take it slowly. One false step could ruin the entire dance and we were definitely far too engaged in the glorious ball to let that foolishly happen. “People call me Butch,” I replied. “Of course they do,” he said seriously. “I’m glad to know your name, but I think I’ll just call you ‘sir’ if that’s okay with you.” There was that word again. My cock thumped against his hard-on. He felt it – I could tell by the smile that sprang to his face. My body had betrayed me. It gave away in a clear and precise way what that word did to me. I could see that he was overjoyed to recognize that fact. I got the feeling my little pup was checking off some list in his head as he got to know me better in the same way I was doing it for him. This seemed to solidify our connection even more. He, of course wasn’t going to be a total gentleman and let my body’s involuntary jolt of pleasure go without being alluded to. “You deserve the respect, sir,” he said, emphasizing the last word on purpose – and smiling even more when my cock again throbbed noticeably. “I know I do,” I shot back – my cock was uncontrollably reacting to this guy’s tone of respect, but that didn’t mean he was in charge. Cockiness was one of the three supports of being a muscle daddy and I could call on that reservoir of confidence whenever I wanted. I truly knew how incredible I was – and not only did it make me sure of myself, it also helped me to shower that same feeling on others. “I get the feeling you can be the perfect respectful pup.” I had anticipated his lust for that certain word correctly. His entire body shook with revealing pleasure – a response similar to mine. We both realized another hurdle had been easily sailed over. I loved the fact that he had to close his eyes – until the joyous jolt of worshipper euphoria passed. I wondered briefly if he was also saying a silent prayer to the muscle gods in hopes the beefy older dude holding him might be the real deal. I added my own plea to Mount Olympus or wherever for the same thing. I was beginning to worry that I was moving beyond a point of return. I was so hopeful about this pup I was beginning to worry that I might be projecting a lot of his reactions. I tried to be reasonable and realistic, but it was hard when all the signs pointed to your desired end. Part 3 A true pup knows he is never a slave. He can walk away from the relationship at any time. That’s part of the intense thrill between a daddy and his young mate. If the big dude is a true muscle daddy then he’s like this huge pup-magnet that pulls on the smaller dude with such a force that the smaller dude never even contemplates leaving his master’s side. It’s the most natural and comfortable relationship ever created – pup needing security and daddy needing adoration. The more your love grows for an admiring young thing the more you want to protect him, mentor him, and even grow him. Yeah, part of being a good muscle daddy is knowing that you should always be working to create your replacement. Big guys are a dime a dozen but true muscle gods – the kind that can truly breed others are very rare. Of course, it takes two to tango. You have to have the perfect pup to train. If you get a good one then half your work is already done. I was lucky – being a pup builder was now in my DNA. I had been formed by one of the best. The day he had set me free to go and find my own little men had been one of the hardest in my life, but I had realized how important it was. I was carrying on a tradition – one that had been around since the beginning of time. I needed to go plow my DNA into some little worshipper that, in turn, would someday grow big enough and strong enough to train other pups into becoming muscle daddies. It was the evolution of huge men. “Butch, sir, I’m looking for something,” the pup said, pulling me back into the moment. “Well, actually I’m looking for someone. But not just anyone. I’m looking for someone powerful, because I’m looking to be tamed and it’s going to take someone very, very strong to accomplish that.” More beautiful words had never been spoken. What Bradley was basically doing was giving me permission to be myself – completely. He was taking a chance and letting me know that he wanted to be dominated. Again, he was speaking in code – testing the water to see if I might be exactly what he was looking for. A pretty muscle boy would simply just flex and say, “I’ve got the body you need.” That’s not what Bradley wanted, though. He could probably get any handsome big man he’d ever laid eyes on. That was a simple catch for a guy like him. But to find a guy that saw the situation in its totality was very hard. Bradley wanted a guy that had the muscles, the inner strength, the patience, the attitude, the intelligence, the wisdom, and all that comes with being a true daddy. It wasn’t about getting laid – it was about being able to submit yourself completely to another man. I also had a feeling Bradley was powerful as shit in the business world. I had a feeling he had people jumping at his every word all the time. He was looking for someone that would make him jump. He was looking for a guy that would laugh at him if he uttered a command. I had a feeling I was Bradley’s man, but I knew there were some more tests before we found out if we were “made” for each other. I thought it was important, however, that I answer his latest question in a way that he’d never forget. I placed the little guy back down on the barstool. I then leaned down and flexed my big gun right beside his head. I then placed my face against his – pushing his cheek, ear, and head into my hard bulging biceps. My mouth was next to his ear. The guy moaned slightly from the feeling of being surrounded by muscle and a scruffy beard. “I can be as powerful as you want me to be . . . and then some,” I whispered softly, flexing my arm even harder to emphasize my point. The dude sucked in air and I’m sure he got kind of dizzy. His body was in reaction overload. I could hear him whispering as he counted to ten over and over – clearly trying to prevent himself from spewing. I had answered him in almost the exact way of his fantasies – I’m sure. I could tell his brain was battling between thinking I was too good to be true and the fact that he wanted to submit to me completely right then and there. Bradley was a sharp businessman, though. I could tell. He knew not to blow his wad – forgive the pun – on an unproven entity, but everything in his body was confirming I was a muscle daddy beyond compare. I decided to drive home my point. “Need something broken, Bradley? I can break it for you,” I said. “Need someone punished? I can punish ‘em and I can be as brutal as you want me to be. Need to be pounded dude? I’m the best pounder you’ll ever meet. Need protection? Nothing’s ever going to get through me. Need something big to hold onto? Well, I think you’ve already realized that’s not a problem, either.” “Sir, if you don’t be quiet – even just for a minute – I’m going to pass out,” he said putting a hand to my mouth. “If you want something massive to be flexed, I’ve got lots of big things to tense,” I said out of the side of my mouth, just to tease him more. He turned his hand sideways so it would cover my lips completely. I took the chance to kiss his palm gently. He opened his eyes, which had been closed so he wouldn’t spurt out a big load, and gazed at my face. His look said so much. There was a deep pleading that almost choked me up. The dude was clearly desperate for me to be the one – for me to be real. I understood this, because I felt the same way about him. Earthquakes, hurricanes, and tornadoes would not have moved me from this man at that moment. Something incredibly magical was happening. Two souls were meeting on a plane that was only perceptible to them. No one else in the room would have understood or even felt what we were feeling. He bit his upper lip and forced his breathing to not be so hard. He had been on the brink of ejaculation, but something much more intimate was taking over. “I really need this to be real,” he said – and I knew it would be the most heartfelt thing I’d ever hear in my entire life. “I know it’s been less than a few hours, but my body had never been this fucking sure. My head says yes. My gut says yes. My heart says yes. And my cock screams yes. Hell, I even think my small toe says yes. But don’t take me down this road, big man, unless you’re sure, too. I could get lost in you. I could get very lost. You could break my bones and I’d finally heal, but I’m pretty sure if you broke my spirit, I’d never trust anyone ever again. So walk away now, if this isn’t right for you, too.” I leaned in and kissed him. I realized – at that particular moment – no words would be sufficient. I knew that I needed to show him how I felt – instead of trying to prove it with weak sentences. He needed the kind of confirmation that only strong lips and a prying tongue could give. Our kiss turned ravenous instantly. He grabbed the side of my face and pulled my head into his with a force that even impressed a big guy like me. His tongue actually gave mine a run for its money and we battled powerfully as we traded spit. I, of course, would prove something different at a later time. We both were moaning a little and I could sense that people were staring. I didn’t care. This little fucker knew how to lip-lock like a pro. I was tensing every muscle in my body trying not to explode because of his incredible oral skills. I finally had to pull my face from his – fearful that I might orgasm at any second. “Holy shit, little man, where’d you learn to do that?” I asked, reaching up to fan my face. “Just now, sir. I needed you to know how much I cared.” he replied. “Well it worked,” I shot back. “That’s like a secret weapon, dude.” “Did I find the big man’s kryptonite?” he asked. “Hell no, just the opposite. Kisses like that can make me take on the world,” I answered. “Something I’d love to watch,” he teasingly said. “You need a big knight in shining armor, little man?” I asked, deciding to toy with him, too. “I’d prefer a muscle daddy in leather, sir,” he replied. I had anticipated him to continue the playful banter, but – instead – he went for honesty. A big surge of juice shot from my balls when I heard his answer. The little guy was so spontaneous and such a mystery. He could be so cheeky and joking at one moment and then he’d surprise me with a comment I knew revealed corners of his soul. I’m sure part of what made a good businessman was to always keep them guessing – and he was doing that quite well with me. I was still being tested. He was making sure I had the ability to keep up with him – to banter with him when he needed to play and to turn serious when it was time to – even if only briefly – open up. I’d seen his type before – but no one had ever been this deliciously honest before. Most guys could volley a cute conversation for a while but usually they’d become distracted by my body or quickly become bored. It seemed like this guy was a pro – but I still treaded lightly. Neither of us wanted to be hurt – and we both knew it could still happen. “I’ve got a drawer full of fun leather apparel. Maybe you’d like to see me model it sometime?” I said, noting how his crotch twitched at the statement. “I plan on it, sir,” he replied – and his tone told me something that solidified this guy as a major contender for my next long-term relationship – maybe he’d even be the ‘one.’ “It’s not going to be tonight, though, is it?” I asked, crossing my fingers in my mind, hoping for the right answer. “We both know the answer to that already, sir,” he replied, smiling broadly. “If I came home with you tonight I’d be just one of them. You’d be the same for me. Either one of us can easily find distractions, but I have the feeling that you’re actually looking for the same thing I am. You’re looking for honesty, dedication, adoration, and someone who needs you desperately. Someone that needs all the things you can offer and all the things you can do. You’ve been testing me all night long – just like I have you. Sure, we can go get our rocks off at your place if we wanted to. That would be nice, I’m sure – but we can do that any night of the week. What’s been happening to both of us during these last few hours only happens once or twice in a lifetime. I’m going to wine and dine you, my friend. I’m going to show you off as much as I can. I want to see how you do outside of this bar – which is clearly your domain. I’m simply a visitor in the kingdom of muscle daddies. I have a feeling there’s no test I could give you that you won’t ace easily, but when it comes to protecting my heart I have no problem sticking to a game plan. I’m sure all of this makes sense, doesn’t it.” “Most of it makes perfect sense. You seem to have one part wrong, though,” I said – leaning in to emphasize my point. “Oh,” he said, looking a little disappointed that I might say something wrong, “What’s that?” “If someone’s going to be leading the wining and dining it’s going to be me,” I said, oozing so much confidence my own words even turned me on a little. The man stopped breathing. I had usurped his authority – his leadership abilities – without him even seeing it coming. This didn’t distress him – no, it actually did the opposite. It thrilled him. He had forgotten one of the golden rules of being with a muscle daddy – the big guy’s always in control. I had assured my dominance in just one sentence and he loved it. “Of course, sir,” he said, quietly. I grabbed his chin softly with my big hand and again brought my face into his. This time, he was ready for me from the start. His lips, tongue, and mouth took over the kiss in a way that made my toes curl tightly in my boots. I also squeezed his chin harder which made him moan with happiness. The guy shot a hand up to my biceps, copping a feel of my muscle mountain. I could tell by the way he latched on to my gun that he was falling for me, big time. I was feeling the same way about him. I pushed his face back a little, just so I could remind him of who was boss. “Did you forget your proper place, little stud,” I asked, smiling so he’d know I was teasing. “Yes sir,” he sheepishly replied. “Don’t let it happen again,” I said, pulling his face back into a passionate kiss and then letting him go. Bradley let go of my big biceps and made a fist with his hand. He started punching my big mound of muscle and then moaned a little when the hard thing didn’t give at all. I tensed it even more and he put a little more power behind his punch, marveling at how the thing still didn’t budge when he smacked it with his clenched hand. He kept pounding it harder and harder – which, in turn, made my cock get harder and harder. He finally stopped – probably because his fingers had started to hurt. He pulled back and looked up into my face. “Hard enough for you?” I asked. “I don’t know, sir, you’re not inside me, yet,” he quickly replied and I almost fell over from the thrill his words gave me. “Aw, little man, you can’t come out of nowhere with comments like that. You have no idea what that does to me,” I said, closing my eyes briefly to calm my dick down. “You see, that’s the problem,” he shot back, “I know exactly what it does to you . . . sir.” “Are you sure you’re going to be able to handle what you’ve started here, little fella? I can be wilder than a herd of stampeding buffalo when I get a little excited,” I warned him. “I hope you’re more than just a little excited, sir,” he said with an impish smile. “I’m feeling like I may go ‘all in’ for this thing happening between us, so I’d like to know that I’m turning you on something fierce.” “We’ve got to slow down, little man or I’m going to either explode or rip you apart,” I said, quickly putting an end to our little teasing session. “I hope that explains how fierce I am.” I meant it, too. I had gotten jacked to the point where I could have easily gone beyond the point of no return. I wanted the little guy so much that my body was screaming for me to attack. That’s the thing about finding a true worshipper, though – he’s worth the wait. You force yourself to not give into your basic urges, just so you can be with the ideal mate. Even though I was a pro muscle daddy, I still didn’t trust myself when it came to preventing myself from giving in to my need for pleasure. The bigger a man is the bigger his desire. I was aching for my new buddy so much that all I could think about was him being speared on my hard rod. But that needed to wait. I was still convinced that he could be so much more than just a good fuck. I moved away from him so the heat between us could cool a little. Part 4 “God, you’re so tiny,” I said and he could tell it was a compliment. “You like that?” he asked. “You know I do. Need a big man to protect that small body?” I continued. “Ummm, yes, but I also need you to play with me, too. And you know without even asking that I like it when a big guy plays rough,” he replied, squeezing my nipples hard. “Aw fuck, I want to squirt so badly,” I said, pushing his body up against the bar. “This common decency crap is overrated. I’d like to have my way with you right here, right now.” “I have a feeling nothing . . . or no one . . . could stop you, sir,” he replied – clearly loving the fact that I was so close to being out of control. “Wild horses couldn’t stop me when I get going, Bradley. I’m like a gray-haired Hercules defeating an arena full of competitors one by one and not even breaking a sweat. If you’re the prize, little man, I’m going to destroy anything that challenges me,” I said, in a deep rumbling voice that emphasized the words in a way that seemed god-like. A true muscle daddy exudes power in everything he does. Taking a swig of beer or even doing something as mundane as folding laundry is naturally done in a way that emphasizes the man’s size and strength. The daddy doesn’t even need to try and be something – he just automatically is . . . huge, intimidating, and jaw-droppingly impressive. It’s like there’s an aura of hardness and mass that surrounds him and envelopes anyone and anything that comes near him. I knew I made the world around me seem smaller – rooms, furniture, men. This had been a fact for so long I had become oblivious to it by this point. It was only when little men became tongue-tied or frozen in awe that I was reminded of how intense it could be to meet me for the first time. Or when I accidently broke something, because I used too much power – that was always a reminder, as well. I put out so much muscle daddy heat that Bradley was starting to perspire a little. The dude couldn’t drink in enough of my body or attitude to satisfy him even for a few minutes. It was like he was scared I was a mirage that was going to disappear any second. I was so turned on by my preppy friend I had become a little love-drunk. I leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I want to hold your body against the ceiling with one hand,” I said, letting the intimacy of the moment emphasize my point and keeping my bearded chin lightly against his neck. How the little man kept from spurting out a major load was beyond me. I knew, instinctively, that my comment was going to release something primal in the guy. I was this elder giant emphasizing all of my daddiness in one little statement. First, there was the fact that I’d be lifting him with one hand – that was almost too much by itself. Second, he would be completely defenseless and I’d barely be using even half of my true power. Third, I was more than twice his age and I’d be easily reminding him how simply he could be manhandled. Lastly, everyone in the bar would instantly know how inferior they all were and, at the same time, wish they were in Bradley’s place. There was certainly power in my biceps – power beyond Bradley’s imagination – but there was even more strength in my words . . . in my attitude. I let my warm breath caress the side of his face and neck as he swallowed hard and let my words sink in. The little man was desperately trying to conceive what it would feel like to be pressed in the air by one of my massive arms. He was letting his backside dream about being smashed against the wood above him. At the same time, however, I knew he wanted to force these visions from his head so he would not explode in some muscle daddy induced eruption. If he hadn’t been mine before that moment, I now knew Bradley submitted to me completely. He wanted to give up all control and let the daddy beast in front of him lead in all things – sexual and beyond. I decided to not play fair. “And while I easily hold you in place, I’d flex my other big arm so you’d have something monstrous to gaze upon from way up there,” I whispered. Every time I worked out I’d always take time between sets to flex in front of the mirror. Most people thought I was just checking out my progress, but what I really was doing was taking a look at what my little worshippers always saw. I made it a habit to look at myself from their eyes – from their perspective. This inspired me much more than how I might see things. I’d been huge for so long I’d really forgotten how impressive it was – but not when I saw some guy’s face lit up like a Christmas tree as he gawked at my muscles. Being a muscle daddy fairy that granted little men’s fantasy wishes was what made all of the workouts worthwhile. I built my body beyond big merely because little men like Bradley could come close to passing out just because I whispered what I might do. Pinning him against the ceiling would have been a simple feat for me – telling him that I could do it, however, was even more fun. His imagination – even though it couldn’t come close to comprehending the real thing – went wild and took him places where a mere act of strength could not. Later on, when I truly lifted him with one arm, he’d remember this moment and realize his fantasy was sorely insufficient in comparison. My comments had made Bradley step off into muscle heaven. He was completely in lust. “What do you say to that, Bradley, man?” I asked, keeping my lips close to his ear. “I . . . uh . . . I . . .” he stammered, clearly still trying desperately to control his body. “No need to speak, little man. Your body radiates your answer. You take a few minutes to recover. I’m not going anywhere. I feel like the luckiest muscle daddy in the world, right now. I get the feeling I’ve won a prize sent from the heavens,” I said, pulling my head away from his and staring down at the frozen pup – clearly scared that any motion whatsoever would make him convulse in a pleasure dump. The poor dude just stared forward – not wanting to move at all. I knew I needed to give him some time. I used the short break to reflect on something I had been contemplating recently. I have no idea when a guy graduates into muscle daddy-dom. I know it has something to do with age, but I knew a lot of older men that weren’t even close to being a muscle daddy. I also knew it had something to do with size, but there were lots of big men that couldn’t be considered for the title – no matter how much they wanted it. I also knew it definitely had a lot to do with attitude, but some guys just assumed it meant you had to be mean or constantly domineering – and it was so much more than that. Lately, I had realized that while all of those things were definitely needed for you to become a muscle daddy, it was clearly something else that tipped the scale for a guy. “You alright there, little Bradley?” I asked, checking on the guy and smiling when he let out a slight whimper – making it clear he needed more time. So, what I’d come to understand about muscle daddies was that a guy got big, a guy grew older, and a guy developed the right attitude, but it was the little men that were the professors handing out the diplomas. You couldn’t be a muscle daddy on your own – since that just meant you were a huge older man living by himself. You needed the worshipper – the awe-struck little one – the Bradley’s of the world to make you a muscle daddy. I couldn’t remember the exact moment when I was awarded the title, but I could remember instances where the transformation had started. The moment in the produce section of a grocery store when a young man had dropped the two grapefruits he was holding and they rolled across the floor because I had come up beside him and my giant arm had shaken him a little, but he had fallen apart as soon as he turned to take in all of my daddy-ness. Or the time the UPS man had turned as rigid as a statue when I opened the door wearing only flimsy cotton gym shorts. He couldn’t say or do anything. I had to take the box, sign the little machine they use, and then carry the guy and set him back in his truck. It took him about thirty minutes to recover. I knew it was time to check in with Bradley, again. “You alright there, sport?” I asked and, again, smiled when all I got was a whimper and a slight nod. Another moment when I realized I was becoming the daddy of most guys’ dreams happened at the hardware store. I hadn’t realized the small dude helping me was seriously infatuated with me, since I was focused on some item that was a few feet above both of us on a top shelf. The guy said he’d go get the ladder and I told him there was no need – I was kind of in a rush. I simply grabbed him by the waist and lifted him up so he could reach what I needed. It had seemed like an easy solution. I had not anticipated, however, what it would do to the poor kid. As soon as I got him hoisted into the air his body started flopping around in my hands like he was having some kind of seizure. It took me a few seconds to realize what was happening. I was kind of embarrassed I had caused him to ejaculate so hard, so I just held him in the air until he stopped cumming. He grabbed the item and I set him back on the floor, apologizing profusely. He merely looked up at me and said thank you, sir. Looking back on that memory, I now realize that the ‘sir’ at the end of his statement of gratitude would become the telling sign of when you had become a muscle daddy. “Drink . . . please, sir,” Bradley suddenly said in a soft voice, as if he had known what I was thinking. I immediately knew what he needed. I brought his glass up to his lips and let him take a small sip. He still stood there frozen, as if he were concentrating very hard on something. I could see he still needed more time. I went back to thinking about the word ‘sir.’ It was when waiters started saying things to me like ‘right away, sir’ or bartenders saying ‘here’s your drink, sir’ that I truly began to realize my new role. I grew a bushy mustache and always had thick stubble across the bottom of my face. I made sure my clothes emphasized all my massive bulges and I started making sure my movements were determined and strong – flexing when I did normal things. Crowds at bars or in the gym started parting when I came walking up. I no longer paid for drinks at bars unless I wanted to – admirers always bought them for me with a ‘this is for you, sir’ accompanying them. Upgrades on flights, at hotels, or being given other free stuff was a common occurrence. And then there were the open-mouths, saucer-sized eyes, and hard crotches gifted to me on a daily basis. I started marveling at how men chose to hide their erections – the doctor with his clip board held at waist level, the businessman that wouldn’t stand up from his desk when I prepared to leave, the motorcycle cop that kept his helmet at crotch level as I flexed my way out of a ticket, and the trainer at my gym who confessed to wearing three pairs of tight underwear on days he knew I’d be working out – both to keep his hardness flat and to soak up any leakage. It really was astounding how I had so easily moved into the role of an extreme muscle daddy. And now my title was being ignited beyond my wildest dreams because of the fire my body had stoked in Bradley. He made me want to be an even better elder muscleman. “Mind if I come back in, Bradley?” I asked as I moved in closer to the fellow. The little guy had returned from muscle heaven. He looked up at me with a smile and nodded. I placed my big hand on the back of his neck, squeezing kind of hard. I knew he was at a place where intimate contact no longer threatened to release a tsunami in his pants. The poor guy winced as I squeezed, but I knew he could handle it. I also knew he wanted it. “Had to drift away to muscle la-land for a little while, huh, Bradley?” I teasingly asked. “You can be a little too much, sir,” the small guy responded. “But that’s a good thing, right?” I added. “Definitely, sir,” he answered. “When it comes to you, sir, there’s no way I could have too much of a good thing.” “Aw, kiddo, that’s probably one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me,” I said, squeezing his neck even harder and watching his face scrunch up in appreciated pain. “You like it when I use my strength, don’t you?” “Yes sir,” he answered with tight lips, even after I had stopped squeezing. Part 5 “You know, Bradley, I should come visit you at work some day,” I said, taking a sip of my beer and pressing up against his hard cock at he sat on the stool with my big body between his legs. “Get a good look at you in your expensive suit, running your big company, and telling lots of people what to do. I’d make your big office seem small – you know, like the way a big elephant seems to make a tall tree shrink. Maybe I could bend something metal as you talk on the phone – sending you back to muscle heaven and making it impossible for you to concentrate. Or I could just stand behind you when your board members want to come in and say something unflattering to you. You know, intimidating them just with my presence. How about I just wear a tight tank top and shorts – making sure all of my muscle daddy massiveness is so emphasized that no one would be able to get any work done – especially you. I could put you on your huge desk and lift both it and you into the air for a little exercise. Sound like a plan, Bradley?” “Yes sir,” he replied – clearly loving every part of the idea. “One of our attorneys likes to bully me, sir.” “Really,” I said, thrusting my massive thigh against his crotch, “Well, we can’t have that, now can we. You just point out the guy and I’ll fold him up so he fits in his briefcase. No one bullies my little Bradley. And I mean no one. Tell me who else I can take care of for you, sweetheart.” “Well, there’s a neighbor near my beach house that likes to blare loud music all the time and ignores all of our requests to turn it down,” Bradley quickly answered, clearly excited by the idea of me taking care of some people for him. “He’s got a posse of bodyguards, though, so that could be a problem.” I smiled and brought my arms up into a double biceps flex – making sure my massive peaks were tensed into hard, intimidating muscle. That ever-so-familiar shocked awe-struck look swept across the small man’s face. The conversation had to stop for a few seconds so his brain could catch up with the rest of his body. It was difficult for him to fully comprehend my size – or my obvious power. I took a glance to the right and to the left, wanting to savor the moment through his eyes. Seeing the giant mounds of muscle the way a guy that was never even going to get close to being my size would view them. My cock hardened even more as I beheld my biceps in the way he was clearly admiring them. “Bouncers, bodyguards, thugs, and the like have all tried to get the best of this muscle daddy, son,” I said, making sure my voice was full of swagger and cockiness, “But nobody’s even come close. You’ll love it when I toss guys through the air like they were just wadded up paper. And what about watching me crush huge speakers with my arms or between these massive thighs. Or maybe I just push your neighbors house into the ocean. How does that sound?” We both knew I wasn’t super strong, but it made no difference. Just thinking about me doing the things I could – tossing a guy through the air – and the things I couldn’t was enough to turn us both on even more. I hadn’t thought that was even possible. But seeing Bradley contemplate me taking care of his neighbor for him was almost enough to send me into ejaculating bliss. It was like seeing a kid meet someone pretending to be a superhero. Bradley had the same kind of worshipping awe-struck eyes. I balled my fists tighter and pumped my arms back and forth a little to make the rock-hard biceps bulge even more. My efforts were rewarded with a little drool sliding down the kid’s chin. “Wanna kiss one, boy?” I asked roughly, knowing the answer before I even asked and chuckling when Bradley merely shook his head in a big yes. I knew I could lower my arm for my little admirer, but I also knew Bradley deserved better. I would have lassoed the moon and pulled it closer for him if that’s what he had wanted – that’s how powerful he made me feel. So, I knew this kiss needed to be really special. I let go of the flex with my left arm and reached down to grab one of the legs on the stool Bradley sat on. My arms were so long it didn’t require any bending. Lifting the stool and the guy was amazingly easy. The little man’s drool and lust-filled eyes had been enough to pump more testosterone through my body so I even felt much stronger than usual. “Let’s bring you up to your prize, Bradley, man,” I said, guiding the guy’s already puckered lips up to my giant arm. Even in the noisy bar I could hear the contented moaning of the little man. Bradley’s lips turned into a Hoover and aggressively attacked my hard biceps – as if he were a starving wolf being given some raw meat. Within seconds my flexed muscle shimmered in the light because of the sheen of saliva Bradley’s lips were leaving. His nose bent to the side because of the steel-like firmness of the sinew beneath my skin. My flexed gun was double the size of his head. I immediately made a mental note to show Bradley the size difference in a mirror one day. I knew my little friend would find that thrilling. One of the things that had confirmed my muscle daddy-ness had been my intense affinity for difference in sizes. Standing beside a grown man who was much smaller and seeing our reflection in a mirror or window was enough to thrill me for a week. Having both of us flex at the same time and seeing how tiny the guy’s muscles were compared to mine was like icing on the cake. Bradley was a normal sized guy – and had that gymnast’s build I had mentioned before – but compared to me he was a tiny boy beside a pro bodybuilder. A gray haired massive elder pro bodybuilder. I laughed as Bradley took quick breaks from savagely kissing my arm so he could look down and see how far he and the stool were from the ground – being held in the air by one arm, albeit a huge one. It was clear the guy knew I could continue holding him like this for a while. I finally figured it would be good to give his lips a break – knowing they were already pretty chapped. I placed him back on the ground and let my right arm drop out of its flex. The poor guy looked disappointed. “Don’t worry, little man, there’s enough of me for seconds, thirds, and even thousandths,” I said. “You’ll never run out of muscle. Geez, you sure are light, Bradley. I barely even notice it when I’m holding you in the air.” “Trust me,” he said, smiling, “I notice it.” I had learned a long time ago – even before the young guy at the hardware store – that a true muscle-worshipping pup loves to be manhandled. The pup is turned on when his muscle daddy treats his strength as an afterthought. An accidental bump sends some dude crashing to the floor and that offers the opportunity for the muscleman to reach down and lift the other dude – like he might pick up a dropped sock. Or squeezing too hard during a handshake and totally missing the fact that the smaller man is wincing in pain – maybe even letting out a loud yelp. Or maybe it’s easily moving a piece of furniture that would normally take three to four guys to budge. A devout pup needs moments like these – moments not overtly obvious to the muscle daddy – to help with a sense of security. An experienced big man instinctively knows his admirer is always watching. Drying off from a shower is a good time for some quick poses, there’s no need for wearing a shirt when it’s just the two of you at home, and any chance the big guy gets to lift something so he can get in a quick workout he must always take it just to please the pup. Another very important rule is a muscle daddy never showers at the gym. To come home sweaty, pungent, bulging, and horny is a must demand from any card-carrying pup. You owe it to the little man that he be given the chance to smell, taste, and feel the fruits of your Herculean efforts. And, if by chance you’ve got a pup that actually likes to go to the gym with you, you must pause every now and then to go to the little weights section where he’s working out so he can get a good grope and whiff. “Bradley, sometimes a crashing wave of desire overwhelms me and I want to grab you into a big bear hug and squeeze your insides out,” I said, tensing my body all over. “Well, I’m glad you don’t,” he responded, “Although I’d probably like it on some level.” “Part of the fun of having a new boy is testing just how much pressure he can stand,” I said, looking into his gorgeous eyes. “I have a high tolerance for pain . . . especially when given by a gray-haired hulk with hands bigger than my head,” the young man responded. His comment made me smile. I had always been super proud of my thick-fingered giant hands. At age seven I could easily palm a basketball. When I was just a teenager I got in the habit of always shaking a man’s hand when I first met him – just to get a thrill out of watching the dude freak out when my giant mitt engulfed his making him feel small and demure. Bradley held up his small hand with its palm facing me and I knew what he wanted. I placed my monstrous appendage against his. When you were just looking at the hands you would have never known the smaller one was a grown man. The enormity of mine made it seem like Bradley was a kindergartner playing patty-cake with a giant. I could actually bend my fingers at the knuckles over his. Again, the sight of such a size difference clearly pleased both of us. We simply stared at our hands as I felt the heat between our palms skyrocket up from the thrill. “Never met a jar I couldn’t open,” I said, smiling. “Or a locked door, I’m sure,” Bradley quickly added – and that made me chuckle and nod. “I’ve been an arm wrestling champ for all of my life,” I continued. “There’s nothing better than watching some guy struggle hard – sweating and grunting up a storm – getting nowhere, and I’m barely using any strength at all to beat him. I also always have to make sure I don’t squeeze too hard. Hands can be fragile things.” “Around you, sir, I think anything would become fragile,” Bradley said softly, knowing full well his comment would turn me on. “Damn, boy, you’ve got the sweetest mouth around. I hope all of you is that perfect.” I said, dropping my huge hand to my crotch to adjust my hard-on. Part 6 I was starting to get a little weak in the knees for my little man, Bradley – and that never happened. One thing you could never call me was weak. There was something about this guy, though. I still needed to wait it out and get to know him better, but every fiber of my body was getting turned on by the small fella – and I had learned a long time ago that my big body never lied. I started imagining us watching television together and him begging me to put him in a headlock. Then, I’d squeeze my biceps into his face so hard he’d have depressions across his cheeks and forehead where the veins smashed against him. I’d wake him up at two in the morning just because I felt like lifting and didn’t want to get out of bed. He’d be my sleepy little barbell that I pressed into the air until I’d be read for sleep again. I’d come home after work and make him sit in my lap as I had my beer, so I could play with him before we began our evening. He, of course, would also get to grope my bod as we sat there. He deserved to have some fun, too. The transformation into a muscle daddy happens over a long period of time – that’s why it’s linked to maturity. However, once you’ve reached the title of an elder flexing god, reading the likes and turn-ons of an admirer becomes second nature. You’re able to size up a pup in mere moments. That doesn’t necessarily mean a guy can become your one true pup instantly – no, that takes time. But muscle daddies that have reached a maximum level of testosterone oozingness and naturally drip with manliness can intuit exactly what makes a little guy tick – what makes the smaller fella get rock hard or even spew uncontrollably. A king of wrinkled muscle knows if the fragile bod in front of him needs his ass manhandled, his crotch crushed by a huge thigh, or his hand tightly squeezed – close to breaking point. Knowing how to please the pup is as automatic as whipping out your own substantial meat and pumping out a loud, enthusiastic daddy-load. Being cocky and dominating is actually muscle daddy masturbation. As you crank up the juice in your adoring fan, you crank up your own massive tool. It’s always mutually satisfying or it’s not a true muscle daddy. The more your muscles and strength excite the little one you’re holding in the air or flexing for, the more you got to give him. It’s a glorious muscle cycle – enhanced by daddy talk, grunting, terms of endearment or just purring like an enormous lion. I had become an expert of reading subconscious signs offered by little men I was flirting with. Most of the time, the dude didn’t even know he was blatantly offering me erotic maps to what would make him happy. A dude that can’t take his eyes off of your arms wants flexing – and lots of it – but he also clearly wants you to use those arms to show off, too. He needs to personally feel the power your massive biceps naturally and easily produce. He wants you to lift him every chance you get – whether it’s to the stool by the bar or a toss to the bed a few feet away. The cute thing that keeps taking every opportunity to move between your massive legs spread invitingly apart wants you to squeeze him with the monstrous things until he gets close to passing out. A guy that compliments your clothes over and over again clearly loves the way giant muscles look in skin-tight material. You want to pump every muscle you can so the material gets stretched to the ‘almost ripping’ point. And if you can afford to lose some shirts or pants by flexing out of them, you’re going to cause euphoria in the man that’ll be on par with an erupting volcano. Then there are the subtle signs - the ones that most amateur muscle daddies miss. A guy that keeps talking about how huge you are is obviously sending you messages that he likes size comparison. He might not even know he loves seeing your giant muscles next to smaller ones. When you get one of these fellas you want to always make sure you stand next to smaller men – the smaller the better – so your admirer gets a full view of just how mammoth you really are. You bend your arm next to the guy at the bar beside you so your pup’s mouth will drop open wide as he compares the anthill to your mountain. Another unspoken desire most gray-haired muscled behemoths miss is what a guy truly wants when he takes the time to introduce you to his friends or acquaintances. If your pup is taking the time to share you with others, he is actually begging you to impress the hell out of them. You’re secretly being asked to intimidate other men – and your poor date might not even realize it’s what he wants. Of course, there’s the powerful squeeze when you’re shaking hands with his friends – that’s an expected treat. Your pup wants to see his friends wince a little from the pain and, at the same time, see how monstrous your hand is compared to the delicate one you’re gripping. But some added unexpected pleasure comes if you choose to stand really close to his friends as you talk to them – the size difference being fun, but also getting to watch the inferiority complex your massiveness causes in his friends fills your pal with a raging desire he didn’t expect. He watches his friends unconsciously buttoning up their opened shirts because they know their chest doesn’t come close to yours. These same friends cross their arms and press against their biceps with the backs of their hands to make their tiny bulges bigger – in hopes they don’t look so small compared to yours. And then there’s the obligatory deepening of their voice and attempt at copping an attitude in hopes they could come close to matching your oozing manliness. Of course, they never do and this pleases your pup to no end. I had picked up on some definite subconscious desires from Bradley. He was clearly a fur man – my beard scraping against the side of his face as I whispered to him had sent jolts through his body that were powerful enough to light up an entire town for a week. The little guy loved my bushy, manly mustache and thick stubble. He understood – without even thinking about it – that I could shave my chiseled chin completely smooth one morning and by two in the afternoon I’d have enough bristly hair to rug-burn the inside of his thighs as I toyed with his pulsing balls. He didn’t need to see the dense forest sprouting out across my chest – even noticeable through my shirt – since he automatically knew it was there. Bodybuilders shaved all over, while muscle daddies – true muscle daddies – pumped out so much testosterone that they sprouted thick, hard fur that pleased a cheek, begged for caresses, or longed to get caught between teeth as the little man’s mouth went to town on your chest. Bradley was especially turned on by the salt and pepper fur across my mammoth pecs – visible because of my open shirt. My pretty little prepster was also sending me subconscious messages about his ass. When I lifted him up against my body – groping his globular cheeks in my mammoth hands – he twitched his dimpled butt in a way that made it perfectly clear that a muscled daddy pounding not only made him happy – it was a gift he liked to bestow on his elders. He had an ass that just wouldn’t quit and he knew exactly how it sent me into pleasure overload – just feeling it and imagining what I might do to it later on. It was his golden chalice – his secret cave – and his most precious offering for any man deemed worthy of its access. I had instantly known there were many hurdles and labors I would have to perform before I would even be considered for that hard, juicy reward. My giant hands groping the gorgeous ass, however, had been the first perfect score I had received in the long list of tests. I had instantly made it clear I was a master at manhandling buttocks. I used the perfect combination of painful squeezing and comforting massaging – making it strongly obvious that I was the kind of ass man that gave as much power as I received. A powerful pounding that does not make your little man squeal in delight and shoot off like a roman candle is a wasted pounding. I knew his chute longed for my massive tool in the same way his mouth desired my huge, hard nipples. It was second nature to both of us. Hidden deep in his desire for domination was something Bradley could not even fathom he wanted, however. I was so attuned to little men, I had picked up on something in our short time together that he was – at this time – unable to know existed deep in the recess of his brain and heart. Bradley needed something that was actually rare in most muscle daddy – pup relationships. It was also something that most towering, bulging, elder men would miss. The man desired total freedom . . . the kind of freedom that could only be obtained through absolute abandonment. The thing that came closest to describing it was that moment you first leapt from an airplane when skydiving. It had to be the first time, though. For, even as much as every jump was thrilling, that first one would never be repeated. Freefalling through the sky on that initial time connected immortality with mortality – fear and excitement – control and loss of control. Unbeknownst to Bradley, he hoped I might be the man who could finally empower him to give up control. He was so used to controlling everyone and everything around him he could not even begin to fathom what it would be like to wake up one morning and not immediately start a list in your head that would later be ticked off. He had absolutely no idea how freeing it could be to not have to make a decision – and, yet, that is what he desired. Bradley unconsciously wanted his first thought every morning to be about feeling muscles, pleasing someone big, and getting off in return. Every leather-like crinkling sounding flex of my mature muscles was now focused in one – and only one direction – helping Bradley become aware of what he truly wanted, desired, secretly needed in a way that could never be revealed before I had come on the scene. I knew, now, that we were the ying and the yang of muscle worship . . . of muscle relationships. All of the densely packed electrons in my body were alive with awareness of one thing – pleasing the small man before me. I needed to advance slowly, for it was still possible to ruin the potential bond that was quickly blossoming between the muscle daddy and the adoring admirer. One false move – one action that forced the issue too quickly – could send both of us home forever empty handed and our core beings fully aware of the gloriousness we had missed. My advanced years and my experience put me at a definite advantage in this awareness. I knew, instinctively, that Bradley’s soul and desired-filled libido was completely in tune with what was happening, but I also realized that all had not become apparent to his conscious brain yet. He would need more time to fully understand that he truly only wanted to wake up in the morning and have his first thought be about muscle, pleasing me, and being pleased by me. He wanted coffee, business, friends, and all other things to be an afterthought. He wanted waking up consciousness to be purely and only submerged in hardened bulging arms that surrounded him, a powerful heartbeat that sent tremors through his own body, and a desire to be pleasured that was so intense that his entire being opened to being invaded by the giant force that held him. It was truly when two bodies became one and all lines between pleasing and being pleased were so blurred that it felt like you were pounding yourself. I, of course, had already realized – to the full extent – how I had fallen into the abyss of complete and utter desire for this man. I was lost in Bradley-dom. I was his pawn, his dominator, his keeper, and his prisoner all at the same time. I now knew my strength, my hugeness, my maturity, and my life, itself, existed to merely give Bradley – and in turn, myself – what he unknowingly desired. Fulfillment for me would only come if he were absolutely and thoroughly happy. The pup in front of me did not understand any of this – and he had no idea that I was the only one – on the planet – that could give his inner being what it so desperately desired. This awareness would come later. The businessman within my little guy was still ticking off lists to see if I met his requirements. He was Lois Lane, completely blinded to the fact that his Superman was blatantly disguised in front of him. I had never felt so powerful in my entire life, but – at the same time – I had never felt the potential for total powerlessness. If I lost this pup . . . if I did one wrong move and sent him away . . . I knew I would be devastated beyond belief. The fear of losing him was now my kryptonite. This was my moment to prove my true muscle daddy-ness. It was enough to make me want to toss the little man through the wall – that’s how scared I was, but I also realized that all of my years of training, all of my moments with other pups – showing off my body and my strength – had led to this moment. Suddenly, I felt more focused, wiser, and more dedicated to one goal than ever in my entire life. I was the muscled god coming down from Olympus to offer some mortal all the pleasures my divinity could offer. At the same time – all of my desires and needs would be met. “Bradley, little man, I know you keep your calendar in your phone – that’s just the kind of powerful man you are – so I want you to take it out right now and type in my name as your date for tomorrow night. And then I want you to hit the button that says ‘repeat forever’ so it goes on every day from now to eternity,” I said with enough seriousness that the guy actually took out his phone. “Um, I have some other evenings already planned, sir, “ he replied as he unlocked his phone, “You know, with other men.” I moved in closer to him and placed my massive hands on his shoulders. I was amazed to see that there wasn’t much room left of that part of his body with my big paws sitting there. I was pretty sure he noticed the same thing, without even turning his head to look. I squeezed hard – teasingly, making sure to offer a slight amount of pain. At the same time I tensed my chest, making sure it inflated tremendously before his face. He stared at it for a few seconds – his eyes growing wide – and then he looked up at me. “See anything – or feel anything – that makes you want to cancel those dates, son?” I asked. “Yes sir,” he instantly replied, his shoulders trying unsuccessfully to escape from my powerful grip. “That’s a good boy,” I replied, “You wouldn’t want me to start paying visits to potential rivals and intimidating them, would you.” “Maybe sir,” he said, honestly, and this made me very happy. The way he kept glancing at my swollen chest made it very clear that it was time for me to bless him with another present. I had definitely passed some other unspoken test. I pulled his body forward and let his face smack loudly against my hard chest. The moan that escaped his body, at first, made me worry that he had cum instantly, but then I realized it was merely his reaction to finally getting to feel some of my generous fur, taking a strong whiff of my manly scent, and finally feeling the hardness of my pecs with his face. For a split second I envisioned this would be how we would one day wake up nestled together, but I immediately forced that thought out of my brain. That was one of the surest ways to move too quickly and ruin everything. Let the present moment be enough – and it was – to please you. If you desired other things too quickly, you wouldn’t allow your pup to catch up with your awareness, your desire, or all of your abilities. Maintain your muscle daddy-ness at all moments. You can lead a pup to your pecs, but you cannot make him automatically suck with passion – that had to come from within him. I knew to let him go at his own pace. To say the little dude inhaled deeply would be an understatement. He nestled his nose and face in between my massive pecs and seemed to go into some kind of trance. I squeezed my chest even tighter around his cheeks and he mumbled incoherent words into my muscles. I knew we were drawing a lot attention from other guys in the bar, but I didn’t care. I was giving my little man what he needed and I would have flattened anyone or anything that got in the way of doing that. “Pretty PEC-tacular, huh, Bradley,” I teased. “Yes sir,” he mumbled back, but I could understand what he was saying – mainly from the adoring tone. I could feel my mounds of muscle squeezing the hell out of his face. I’m sure it was painful, but he didn’t care. It was just another moment of me showing him my power. I probably had him trapped there – but you really can’t trap a willing prisoner. I could feel his tongue darting out to get a taste of whatever it was that my body radiated – testosterone, sweat, manliness, dominance, or a mixture of it all. The little man had made me perspire a lot throughout the evening, so I’m sure there was a strong aroma of my hugeness and power. I got the feeling Bradley could have stayed there for hours, but I wanted to converse with the dude a little more. I released my flex, releasing his face, and moved back a little. His body leaned forward as his tongue tried to follow my massive chest. I caught him before he fell face forward off of the stool and set him upright – aware he was still entranced by the bulges that had surrounded him. “So, do we have a date tomorrow night?” I asked. “No sir,” he replied and smiled at the immediate disappointment in my face. “We have a date tonight. It’s past twelve.” I flexed my arm hard and turned my wrist slowly to look at my watch. It was a move made purely to grab his attention and remind him I was still in charge, even though he had put me in my place concerning the day of our date. My biceps was like superglue to his eyes and his gaze honed in immediately on the bulging mass of muscle. I bounced the flex a few times, just to make the peak twitch. Appropriately, his eyes got wider. “So it is. I stand corrected,” I answered. “And this muscle daddy doesn’t like being corrected.” Only the tone of my voice could tear Bradley’s stare away from my biceps. He looked up at me and instantly we both got a surge of power to our balls. When our eyes met there was an unspoken awareness that shot through both of us. I had teasingly been stern when I spoke to him. The sound of my voice had immediately done something to him. He became like a puppy that had been caught in the middle of the destroyed box of tissues – unable to escape blame and fully aware of how cute he looked even in his terrible mistake. I distinctly saw that part of Bradley’s thick wall of control had been chipped away. Someone more powerful – in every way – had spoken and he was upset he had displeased that person. I saw incredible love and a deep desire for forgiveness in the face below me. I was almost overwhelmed by the look – and nearly exploded with a harsh ejaculation. It took a lot of my strength to prevent me from cumming. I had seen a glimpse of what was to come – a slither of the true muscle daddy pup that Bradley could become. For a split second he had truly worried I was displeased. He was very nervous he had done something that might interrupt this trajectory we were on to a true muscle communion. Immediately, he recovered and saw that I had been kidding – but that glimpse of raw fear that his muscle daddy was not happy had been enough for me to know that we were destined for great things. I also realized we had inched our way past another milestone. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said – mustering enough sincerity to make my cock twitch with excitement. Some would-be muscle daddies found pleasure in tying their pups up – binding their hands and their feet or even wrapping rope around their entire bodies. I found this a sure sign that someone was not a true muscle daddy. An elder man didn’t need rope, chains, or locks to be his power. A true muscle daddy knew his body was the only power he’d ever need. I could have subdued Bradley easily and made it impossible for him to move a muscle – all with just my own huge, powerful body. Keeping a man in place wasn’t about cages with metal bars – it was about cages created completely from the knowledge that his muscle daddy would protect him no matter what. A guy felt subdued because he knew his huge partner could easily dominate him – something he wanted as much as the big man did. That split second in Bradley’s consciousness – his worry about me not being pleased – did more for opening his soul to me than anything I could have ever said. A muscle daddy that is genuine actually never raised his voice or reprimanded too much – simply because his dominating spirit, the power he exuded was enough to make his pup be submissive forever. It’s actually been proven that a muscle daddy can have a submissive pup who is actually bigger and stronger than him – the pup giant offering himself to the other man simply because the elder man is seasoned, more mature, and can lead without any need of material things. I easily commanded respect and attention by my massive presence – not merely by anything I said or did. “That’s fine, pup. I knew you meant it in a good way,” I replied quickly. “You’re just that excited about our upcoming date.” And, like that, the guy lit up like a Christmas tree. My statement of forgiveness was like he was given a new lease on life. I had darkened his life by a small reprimand – making him think I was displeased, but I had released a tsunami of endorphins by blessing him with understanding. His face broke out in a giant smile of gratitude and he almost seemed to swell in pride from the fact that I acknowledged his excitement. We had reached a new plateau in our relationship. He was beginning to show signs of the ultimate pup I knew he’d be. I had once made a guy gush a big load simply by barking out the order for him to ‘cum.’ I had a feeling that Bradley was going to be way more easily influenced than that. I actually think he would one day be able to squirt simply if I invited him to. His serving spirit was going to be that intertwined with my dominating one. Of course, he was going to probably be able to do the same thing to me. He’d probably be able to ask his huge super-strong daddy to spurt for him on the spot. That’s how much I’d probably want to please him. I had a feeling my body would take over my brain and instantly do whatever he asked of me. Of course, all of this was down the line a little while, but we had both already caught glimpse of how it would be. “And what does my main man want to do for our first official date,” I asked, tensing my arm by my side and moving in closer so he could immediately try to grope the hard muscle. “Feel your muscles,” he quickly responded. “Isn’t that what you’re doing right now?” I asked. “Yes sir, but I’ll never get enough,” he shot back, not taking his eyes or his hands off of my huge biceps. “Well, how about if I promise a lot of groping later in the evening and we started with dinner at my favorite little French restaurant,” I suggested, and then added, “It only has about twelve tables, so I kind of fill up the place.” “That sounds great, but I promise you I’ll pout if I don’t get to grope,” he said – still working away at my arm. “What kind of muscle daddy would I be if I didn’t let you play with all this?” I asked. His hands stopped their motion and he turned his gaze toward me. I could tell the look on his face that he wanted to say something very important. “You have no idea, sir, the kind of electricity that shoots through my body when you call yourself my muscle daddy,” he said. “I think I do, Bradley,” I replied. “The same thing happens to my body.” “I’ve got a list in my head, sir . . .” Bradley started. “I’m very aware of that, son” I interrupted and the comment caught him off guard at first, but then he smiled as if to say ‘of course you do.’ “Well, it’s like you’re ticking off everything on that list, sir. As the night progresses I seem to be getting closer to say everything’s taken care of,” he answered. “Everything is taken care of, my boy,” I said and the seriousness in my voice made him suck in air audibly. His hands had automatically restarted trying to grope my huge gun, even though one of his palms didn’t come close to covering my giant tensed peak. He just pressed in with his fingers over and over, again, as if he was astounded that all of his strength couldn’t press in my muscle at all. My hardness was a mystery to him. He hadn’t been in the gym all of those countless days I lifted more weight that he could imagine – pumping blood into the tissue that would multiply and become like marble. He didn’t know about the days when my muscles ached as much as my cock was aching at that present moment – because of the poundage I moved around at the gym. And he didn’t know those days when I had to crawl up stairs because my legs hurt from squatting what seemed like a bar loaded with enough weight to equal a city bus. The pup didn’t need to know any of that. He simply got to admire, worship, and love the product of all my hard work. He was awarded a groping session that kept him rock hard merely because he had not idea an older man could be so buff, so huge, and so fucking cocky. His tiny hands pressing against my giant gun looked so puny and weak. It made me want to protect him even more. “Let me be your rock, Bradley. Your foundation. Let me be so strong for you that everything else in your life seems fragile and breakable,” I said, and I instantly realized he was silently begging me to continue. “I’m a hurricane of power just waiting to be released. You can just say the word and I’ll be everything you’ve ever dreamed a man could be . . . and then some. Trust the message your hands are sending to your brain right now – that the power in my guns is more than you have ever imagined. You can’t believe a man my age can be so huge . . . you can’t believe a man of any age can be this huge. But your hands don’t lie. You can sense my power without me doing a thing. You feel the same way I do right now – that there’s nothing in the world more powerful than the bond we are feeling.” “Yes,” he said, softly, and then added, “I feel it, too.” I leaned down and we let our lips meet – barely – so they just brushed against each other, as if teasing. His tongue slid out and pressed between my lips to meet my own. We then pressed our mouths into each other harder – with a passion that seemed to be equal to the heat at the earth’s core. I let out a deep rumble-like moan that must have made the little man’s body shake like a train was screeching by. His oral assault temporarily stopped, as if my moan had frightened him – the way a lion’s roar might cause smaller animals to flee. He also might have been listening for some kind of echo in the wide expanse of my upper body. Either way, I noticed the sudden thrill that must have shot up from his toes to his head. I wrapped my huge paw around his head and pulled him into me even harder, making our lips smash together like squashed cement between bricks. It quickly became clear that even my tongue was bigger and more powerful than his. And, as if a sign of things to come, he simply submitted to it’s power and let me take control of our kiss. I sucked so hard it felt like I might make his toes come out his mouth. I plowed his throat with my tongue in what was clearly a sign of what another part of my body would do at a late date. I anticipated when he needed air, when he wanted more force, and when he wanted gentleness. I used my muscle daddy sixth sense to the nth degree – making sure he got a good idea of what I was capable of. I slid my other hand under his ass and lifted him off the stool, standing erect and easily bringing his body with me. At the same time, I never let our mouths separate. I could tell the little man was impressed because his hands, which had moved from my biceps to my huge chest as I lifted him, shook uncontrollably from being overwhelmed. By this point, he was moaning almost louder than me. When I finally moved my mouth from his, he kept his eyes closed and continued to breathe deeply – as if he was recovering from a long run. Finally, he spoke – without opening his eyes. “I really need to go home, sir” he said, “Tomorrow is a work day. To say this has been the best night of my life is an understatement.” “Maybe it’s just the beginning of the best part of your life,” I replied – still, his eyes remained closed. “I hope so,” he whispered. I lowered his body to the ground but kept my hands in place because I could tell his body was a little shaky. I was used to having that effect on guys. I was feeling a little wobbly myself – a totally new experience. I finally sensed I could release him completely since he opened his eyes. I stepped back, enabling him to get a good look at my entire huge frame. I watched as he looked me up and down, clearly wanting to memorize every inch of me – surely for a few rounds of masturbatory pleasure into the wee hours of the morning and beyond. The thought of him having to step into his private bathroom at work later that day to relieve his hard cock gave me much joy. I had a feeling I’d even surpass my own personal record of five orgasms in a span of six hours – that’s how much little Bradley turned me on. We stared at each other for a few seconds – neither of us wanting the magic to end. I finally spoke, knowing full well that the magic would begin again as soon as we were within ten feet of each other. “Shall we exchange information?” I asked. “I’m eight inches,” he replied, smiling and clearly thinking he had gotten me. “I’m two more than that flaccid,” I quickly replied and was immediately rewarded when his eyes grew wider and he licked his lips. “Get me really hard, and I’ll really surprise you.” His hands shook as he took out his phone and tried to type in the information I gave him. I finally had to take his phone and finish it for him. He had recovered by then and ended up showing me how he could send his information via some app – I had never fully learned how to use a smart phone. I figured my huge muscles made up for it. Right before we parted I bent down, wrapped my arms around him, and bear hugged him hard as I stood up and took him off the ground. I again brought my face next to his and whispered in his ear, “I’ll be thinking of you non-stop until tonight.” I put him back on the ground and we walked out together. Like a good muscle daddy I walked him to his vintage Jaguar – of course – and watched him drive away. I immediately felt a profound loneliness and knew I needed a wank session thinking about Bradley to make me feel better. I actually didn’t wait until I got home. Thank goodness I had some tissues in my truck. Part 7 I waddled by his secretary’s desk as she stood and started to tell me I could not go in. I just did a most muscular flex and grunted loudly. She immediately sat down and shut up – her face white as a ghost. I made her huge desk look small and she definitely noticed. I opened the door to a humongous office and there was Bradley sitting behind an even bigger desk - the biggest I’ve ever seen. Suddenly, I had desk envy. Windows on three sides surrounded him and the view of the city was spectacular. He looked up and immediately smiled. He didn’t move, though. He just remained seated behind his desk and that simple action turned me on so much. He leaned over and pressed a button on his phone as I shut the door behind me. “Sarah, I don’t wish to be disturbed. The big man is a friend,” he said and the way he didn’t wait for a response told me he knew I had scared the crap out of his secretary. I walked slowly across the floor of the big room to the area where he sat. I wanted him to get a good view of the tight black muscle hugging t-shirt and even tighter jeans I was wearing. I could see him adjusting himself beneath the desk as I moved toward him. His eyes went over every part of my torso like a ravenous wolf looking at a big chunk of meat. There was something about the way he was acting that immediately told me he had expected me to come for a visit. I thought I would be a huge surprise, but the little dude might actually be my equal in cunning. I tensed my upper body to make him breathe heavier and the anticipated reaction did not disappoint. I had a feeling my biceps were almost an inch thicker because of all the beating off I had done the night before thinking about the little stud. He had cute circles under his eyes that led me to believe thoughts of me had kept him up all night, as well. I was caught off guar by how happy that thought made me. “Take a chair,” he said, pointing to one of the large wing back chairs in front of his desk. I bent down, grabbed the humongous thing by the leg, easily lifted it into the air, and said, “Where would you like me to take it?” His face lit up like a Christmas tree. I had a feeling he was going to ask me sometime to do that with him sitting in it – I could see him making a mental note. Little Bradley, always making lists. I put the chair down and walked around to sit in it. I, of course, turned so my ass and huge back was on display for him for a few minutes – just to wreck him completely. He actually sucked in air. He quickly regained control, though – something that continued to impress me. The little guy obviously had some hidden inner strength. “How did you get by security in the lobby?” he asked and I noticed both of his hands were still underneath the desk, moving back and forth. He was blatantly and proudly stroking a hard on my presence had produced. Or maybe he had remained hard since we parted earlier. “I simply held them in the air and fucked them both senseless in the broom closet,” I teasingly said. This made the man moan a little and then break into a knowing smile. “Naw, just kidding. It was easy. I’m bigger. They really didn’t have a choice. They asked me to flex, which I gladly did. We arm-wrestled a few times – both of them against me at the same time. They foolishly thought I might be too tired to win the third time. They, however, were so worn out by that point all I had to do was tell them you and I had a serious thing going on and they went all gooey inside, instantly allowing me access. It pays off to be big sometimes” “I’m pretty sure it pays off being big all the time, sir,” Bradley said, smiling a knowing grin. “It certainly did last night,” I replied and he nodded ‘yes.’ “And why, Mr. Butch, sir, have you decided to grace me with your presence today,” Bradley said – encouraging me on even more. “I thought I’d get a glimpse of the wild beast in his natural habitat,” I replied. “It seems to me you had some staff members and board members that needed some intimidation from a huge muscle daddy.” “And what do you think, sir?” he asked. “Pretty nice digs. I’ve never had an office in a high rise. I tend to work outdoors mostly,” I replied. “Hence the perfect golden tan,” he said, making sure I felt complimented. “I have an awesome tan line,” I said, smiling. “I’ll have to show you sometime.” “That would be wonderful, sir,” he answered. I pushed my chair back a little and put my feet up on his desk. It was a bold move. I was ready to take my presumed dominance – even in his office - to a higher level. I crossed my giant legs and made it so we looked at each other between my huge work boots. I could see Bradley staring at the size of my shoes. I saw him swallow hard, but I also saw a little gleam in his eye and knew right away that he was rising to the challenge in more ways than one. He finally got up from his chair slowly, making sure I got a great view of the hard cock unashamedly pressing against his suit pants. Of course, it was a given that his clothes were tailor made. He looked impeccable. He walked around his giant desk, not even trying to hide the rocket at his crotch. When he got near my massive thighs he looked at my face and without him saying a word I knew exactly what he wanted. I impressed the shit out of him when I raised the top leg almost straight up, showing how flexible I was. He stepped in between my legs and turned toward me. I lowered the big thing back to the desk and immediately squeezed – pulling him closer by flexing my muscled calves. Our hard-ons were pressing against each other and the small man started running his hands up and down by big quads, purposefully avoiding my hard shaft. We both looked at how tiny his fingers and palms looked compared to my mega thighs. “I could smash your little body until you passed out, Bradley,” I said. “I know you could, sir,” he replied and I could feel his hands tremble a little with excitement. “Would you like me to do that?” I asked – and my tone was suddenly serious. His face showed that he was right there with me as far as intensity goes and he said, “No, sir, I’d rather not have to change my clothes and I know I’d certainly explode right before I blacked out.” “You know, of course, that you really don’t have a choice,” I continued – just to emphasize my point. “Those big things wrapped around your body control the situation completely.” “Yes sir, I do, but I have a feeling that if I ask politely you’ll save this particular thrill for another time,” he responded as he continued to stroke my thighs. It took almost all of my strength not to immediately squeeze the breath out of the little guy. He was right, for sure. I wouldn’t do anything without his approval. That approval didn’t need to be verbal, though. Sometimes, a muscle daddy just knows what his pup needs by looking at him. Bradley wasn’t ready to feel the full force of my giant trunks. He was not a delicate man, but we both knew he wouldn’t last long if I chose to intensify the pressure of my legs. I lessened the present light compression just to help myself move away from uncontrollably squashing him – just because I wanted to so much. I was proud of myself for waiting. This little guy was proving to be way more than I had ever dreamed possible in a worshipper and I wanted to make sure he knew how much I appreciated him. “Your self control amazes me, sir,” he said with much admiration. “We’ll wait, tiny fella, we’ll wait. You’re certainly worth it,” I said, smiling. “What’s it feel like to be the top man of this place?” “Probably the same as when you have a small guy between your legs and you know you could squeeze the life out of him,” Bradley replied. My legs automatically tightened at his response. I couldn’t help myself. He had pushed all of the right buttons to egg this alpha on. He was toying with me – trying to see if I could hold out. Then I realized it was another test. That made it easy for me to not squeeze. I lessened the pressure and just smiled. Bradley smiled, too. He was beyond impressed by my ability to not give into my base desires. He knew a sign of a true muscle daddy was to always be in control – to be the one that makes all the decisions, even when it comes to getting off. He was getting closer and closer to offering himself completely to me. “It would be hot to watch you turn red and see your eyes bug out, but we’ll have to wait until another time,” I said, making it clear that I was still in control. “You’re getting closer to the prize,” he said with much sincerity. “Am I? And what if I just took the prize whenever I wanted to?” I asked. “You would never do that. We both know that the moment will reveal itself to us at the same time. It will be like two bolts of lightning coming together. There’s a few more things we need to find out about each other,” he said, calmly – still stroking my legs. “You mean like whether or not I squeeze the toothpaste from the bottom or the middle of the tube?” I questioned. “Yes sir, something like that,” he answered, chuckling at my joke. “Or maybe more like whether my muscle daddy can truly meet all of my needs.” “Little man, Bradley,” I said leaning forward a little, “I need a jolt of that lightning you spoke of right now. That’ll show you what I’m capable of.” He knew what that meant. The guy grabbed the sides of my face and drew our mouths together. My entire body tensed hard when our lips met and his tongue darted in. I’m pretty sure we stayed locked together that way for a good ten minutes – or even longer. My rough stubble and mustache scraped his pretty face raw. By the time we separated our heads we were both so hard that it was clear we shouldn’t even be touching each other. I removed my legs and set his small body free. He leaned back against the desk and I spread my legs wide enough so my knees were about a foot from his body – even that was too close. “Damn, boy, I’d still don’t know where you learned to suck face like that?” I said, desperately trying to calm my body down. “It just depends on who I’m kissing, sir. If the connection is there the sucking face part just comes naturally,” he replied and I knew he was right. “So you feel it, too, don’t you, Bradley?” I asked and I could see by the look on his face he was ecstatic to finally talk openly about what was going on. “Butch, sir, I haven’t gotten anything done at work today. I’ve been too busy thinking about you,” he replied honestly. “Why the hell do you think I came over – I’ve been having the same problem,” I responded. We just stared at each other. This was one of the last hurdles to clear before we dove head first into this magic that was happening between us. I ached for the man. I had been searching for someone of his caliber for over thirty years. He had no idea how I could rock his world, but I was determined to show him. I could see he was thinking the same thing about me. He was dying to submit himself totally to my alpha-ness. He was desperate to give up control – since he never ever got to. I could feel Bradley internally begging for something even though he was a few feet away. I just knew it like I knew my own face. I brought my arms up slowly, balled up my fists, and then started flexing my biceps to their full height. The small guy let out a whimper that made me tense even harder. Somehow, I made my big guns bulge bigger, harder and stronger than I ever had before. I saw a tiny dark spot appear at Bradley’s crotch and I knew he just couldn’t help himself – a little spooge had to bubble out. I didn’t hold the flex long. I instinctively knew I should not. It would have been too much for the little guy. I brought my arms down and put my hands in my lap. I gave Bradley a few minutes to recover. “What do you bench,” he asked quickly and I instantly knew he was in interview mode. “More weight than you can imagine,” I replied, and his moan told me I had answered correctly. “How big are your guns?” he continued. “Much thicker than your tiny waist,” I replied and he moaned even louder. “What’s your favorite thing to do with a little man?” he asked, even more excited than before. “Walking around the room while I hold him upside down and we sixty-nine,” I answered, now anticipating the moan. I knew it was my turn so I asked, “How much are you worth?” “More than the GNP of some small countries,” he replied and it was my turn to let out a little gleeful sound, although mine was much deeper. “What’s your favorite muscle on a big man?” I asked. “The one that’s the largest!” he said laughing and then he added, “I’m a gun man, sir, but I love them all.” “And what’s your favorite way to worship a muscle daddy?” I joyously asked, knowing his answer would thrill me – no matter what it was. “Facing him while I sit on his lap straddling his quads with his big pole inside me. I love groping all of his upper body as he slowly invades me,” Bradley said confidently, knowing full well that I’d get a small wet spot on my jeans, as well – which is exactly what happened. Part 8 It was clear we needed to shut up for a while. We simply stared at each other and the electricity between us was palpable. The little pup was gorgeous – all suited up with expensive cufflinks, shoes that probably cost more than my truck, and a blue pin-striped suit that was so impeccably made I didn’t think I’d have him take it off even if we were to have sex right there in his office. He was staring at me with the same kind of lustful eyes as me. “I gotta have you, man,” I said – staring into his eyes. “Do I have a choice?” he responded. “Always . . . you know that. But give me the sign that you’re mine and I’ll make sure you never have to worry about a single thing for the rest of your life,” I said with a tone that was both serious and inviting. “I was just teasing, sir. I know I have a choice. We both know there are a few more things we need to sort out before this thing between us is signed on the dotted line. You know, I went to one of your construction sites today – to chat with one of your crews so I could get an idea of what kind of guy you are outside of a big-man bar,” he confessed – and the look on my face made it clear that I was both surprised and pleased. “Yeah? What did you find out?” I asked. “All of them said you were the most fair boss they’d ever have and they loved working for you. A few even said they’d been with you for over thirty years. One guy was hilarious – he just kept talking about how ‘fucking’ strong you were and I could tell he was getting excited,” he said, smiling at the last part. “That would be Damien. You must have gone to the site a few blocks from here. Yeah, he’s a muscle whore. He makes me show off every time I come to the yard. He’s such a strength junkie,” I replied. “I could tell.” Bradley responded. “You find out anything else?” I asked. “Yeah, you’re respected. That’s what I had gone to find out. Your crew respects the hell out of you,” he said – and I heard a definite tone of approval. Bradley had surprised me – something that didn’t happen very often. He had taken the initiative to find out more about me. He had said he wanted to know me outside of the habitat of a dark bar where big men cruise little guys. He was making sure I wasn’t one of those muscle daddies that said all the right things, but when it came to a relationship I turned into some kind of tyrant that belittled or, even worse, abused my pup. It wouldn’t have been enough for me to tell him I was a straight up kind of guy – he needed to find out for himself. That’s probably what made Bradley such a successful businessman. “Funny, I asked the two beefy security guards what they thought of you,” I told him. “Of course you did. And what did you find out?” he asked. “That you stop by every day to chat with them, which they appreciate very much, by the way,” I replied. “You also sometimes bring them doughnuts. That’s calories, little man.” “They’re both fit as hell, sir. I don’t think I’m ruining their figure,” he replied. “So . . . you’ve noticed their muscles, have you,” I said, standing up and moving towards him and wedging my big body between his legs. “How could I not . . . sir?” he replied – and I felt his cock hardening against my crotch. “Hmmmmm . . . and how do they compare to me?’ I teasingly asked. “They’re like fleas next to you, sir.” Bradley cooed. “Oh yeah, I like the sound of that.” I said, bringing my lips down to his neck. “You could squash both of them with one swat,” he said to egg me on even more. “I bet you’d like to see that, wouldn’t you, Mr. Bradley?” I responded. As I spoke my breath made goose bumps pop up all over his neck – and probably the rest of his body. As soon as my tongue hit skin he sucked in air loudly and immediately stopped speaking. His hands instantly traveled up my thick forearms and quickly rested on my bulging biceps. I kissed his neck silently and he groped my big arms – trying desperately to dent in the hardness. “I’m lost in you,” I whispered. “That’s funny, with you it seems I’m found,” he answered softly. “I’d do anything for you,” I said – and it was the most honest thing to ever cross my lips. “And I’d never ask for anything you didn’t want first, sir,” he replied – just like an obedient pup. It’s a powerful thing to know that you could easily make a man submit to you and yet you still wait for his permission to dominate him. I was so much bigger and stronger than Bradley it would have taken almost no strength at all to force him to do anything I wanted him to. There was a part of me that wanted to grab the little man and manipulate his body and his will for my own pleasure. I called this part of myself “The Beast.” Being a true muscle daddy meant that I had learned how to control The Beast. Throughout the ages many men – Neanderthals, Vikings, gladiators, rednecks – had let The Beast take over their lives. These men were never satisfied and it was mainly because they never found true companionship. It is only when you can tame The Beast and wait for permission to dominate that the connection with someone else becomes so intimate that complete satisfaction happens. A true muscle daddy knows this. It’s very difficult to reach this point, though, to finally be strong enough and smart enough to not give into the needs of The Beast. There are certainly times when The Beast can be released – lifting at the gym, when three or four men pick a fight with you, and during intense sex – but learning to control that part of you is what separates us from the animals. I wanted to grab Bradley’s shoulders, lift him off the desk, and then press down with so much power that his legs would buckle and he’d end up on his knees, the perfect position for me to stuff his mouth with my hard throbbing meat. I’d then face-fuck him so hard that he’d pass out from our mutual explosions. I, however, knew how to control this desire – to not give into actions that would give me immediate pleasure, yes, but would not create an enduring relationship with this man that had now entranced me so. I wanted Bradley more than I wanted immediate gratification. A muscle daddy learns to control his body and his desires. He knows this will ultimately bring about a deeper and more fulfilling satisfaction. I had a feeling this little man in front of me was that ultimate prize for me. He made it easy for me to control The Beast. I could sense that Bradley understood this. “I almost want you to just take me, now,” he knowingly whispered. “As you say, it’s not time,” I replied. “It seems the strength of your will matches that of your body, sir,” he said. “The perfect pup is worth the wait,” I answered, knowing full well the word would make his cock twitch. “I’m strong enough to wait for something as good as you.” When exactly does lust turn into love. When does a muscle daddy move from just wanting to plow the ever-living daylights out of a little fella to the point of wanting him to become his pup? A pup is so much more than a toy. A toy is just there for pleasure. A toy serves a purpose, for sure. It helps the muscle daddy to get his rocks off and usually it means multiple times in one night. There is, however, no long-term commitment with a toy. You simply play with it until it becomes boring or worn out. Most boy-toys don’t even realize they’ll never reach pup status. They actually think you can work up to being a pup, like you might advance in an office. It doesn’t work that way, though. You have to come into a relationship already at pup status. There were many times I took little guys home even though I knew there was no chance in hell they were ready to be my pup – I was just basically using them to bust out a giant wad. Most of the time they knew that, too. But always, during the night of sex and worshipping, the boy-toy falls for the muscle daddy. It’s just the way of the world. I’d always end up breaking hearts, but there was no way I could become entangled with someone not capable of being a true pup. Most people think the muscle daddy turns a guy into a pup – as if he waves some magic wand. It’s not that way. The first thing a pup has to have is potential. A muscle daddy can sense right away whether or not a guy can be molded. There are lots of things that can prevent a guy from being enhanced by a muscle daddy – stubbornness, stupidity, apathy, and so much more. A true pup, however, opens himself to all possibilities – in the bedroom, in learning from his big man’s wisdom, in exploring new ways to serve and many other joyous avenues. Bradley oozed potential. His small frame would definitely take to building muscle like a fish takes to water, but it was his emotional potential that got me juiced the most. The man was desperate to be controlled. He lusted for domination much more than he desired my big body – and he desired my muscles big time. “When will it be time, sir?” Bradley asked, softly. “The moment you realize your heart will break if I left your side,” I replied. “That time is close,” he responded. “For both of us,” I added. “What makes you the one, Butch?” he pushed further. “I anticipate your needs. I desire to make you happy more than I want to please myself,” I responded, truthfully. “You are changing, too. You are taking the required time to learn how to give up control. You are finding out what it takes to trust someone completely. You trust no one, Bradley. It’s the burden of being a powerful and rich man. I have to earn that trust. I have to prove that I would use every ounce of my strength to make sure you are safe. Your body is also getting ready – ready to submit itself to me in every way. I will make you have orgasms you never thought were possible. I will, however, also expand your mind and your inner strength. In the gym I will push your body way beyond what you thought were your limits. I will force you to stretch your muscle worship fantasies to new heights by fulfilling them one by one. You won’t be my slave, Bradley, you’ll always have free will – but you’ll be my devotee. You’ll want to please me as much as I please you. You’ll want to make this muscle daddy proud as often as you can. Making me happy can be a full-time job, boy.” “I think I’m up for the challenge,” he answered. “I know you are,” I shot back. I tensed my entire body – making my big biceps bulge more and my chest puff out even further. None of this was missed by the pup. He was watching every part of me at one time. His gaze always seemed to come back to his favorite part – my arms – but he didn’t want to seem too partial. I took some time to look at him. I had no idea why a crisp white shirt, a fancy tie, and some butt-hugging slacks could make me so horny, but at that moment my hairy mega balls were scrunched up in edging delight. He looked immaculate. The clothes were clearly tailored, for they fit him like a glove. He was like a big old chocolate bunny you got at Easter – I could have gobbled him right up. I loved slacks because they weren’t made to hide hard-ons. His pulsing cock was outlined against the light gray material in a way that almost left nothing about the gorgeous thing to the imagination. I could see the perfect mushroom head, the shaft’s surprising thickness, and the substantial balls threatening to tear his expensive clothing. “That’s quite a tribute to this big old man,” I said, my head tipping in the direction of his crotch. “A muscle god deserves a worthy offering,” he replied softly – knowing his words would thrill me. “Could you call up those two security guards? I need to let off some steam and beating them both at wrestling would do the trick.” I asked. “That’s something I’d like to watch,” he answered, without moving. “You’ll get the chance as soon as you’re under what I like to call my ‘muscle daddy’ protection,” I shot back. I sometimes beat off to pictures of guys in catalogs for stores that sold preppy clothes, suits, and even tuxedos. A well-dressed little man was like a lightning rod to my own huge tool. I didn’t like wearing those clothes, myself, although a button down shirt pulled so tightly across my chest that you could see the buttons were about to pop off was pretty hot. No, there was just something about a cute face, light-for-lifting body, and a firm bubbled ass decorated with form fitting, lip-smacking neat, expensive clothes that could unleash the Beast in me more than almost anything else. I needed to live out some of my muscle daddy fantasies with Bradley – mainly to distract my mind so I wouldn’t attack him right there in his immaculate office. “You have a different suit for every day of the year, don’t you,” I asked, smoothly. “And then some,” he replied, knowing it would send me through the roof. “I also have them personally pressed at my house . . . daily.” When I talked about my huge muscles or what they could do, I turned on Bradley so much that he couldn’t hide his reaction or his erection. When he talked about his clothes, his preppiness, his smallness, or his business power it did the same thing to me. The crotch of my jeans was so tight because of my hard-on you would have thought I had an anaconda in my pants – especially because it was throbbing so noticeably. Bradley wasn’t through with me, yet. “I also wear silk pajamas,” he softly said. “Fuuuuuuccckkk,” I growled and suddenly I was worried I might lose control of my anaconda. “And I have a warm, comfortable robe for every night of the week,” he tauntingly added. I let out a very loud growl and I was standing up in less than a second. I grabbed him by the waist with my huge hands and lifted him high in the air above my head before he could even blink. I immediately started walking around the office to calm myself down. I needed to show him my power to even out our playing cards – to show him that I could toy with him as easily as he could with me. I looked up into his shocked, but thrilled face – staring down at me. I had moved as quickly as a jaguar – something he didn’t expect from someone so big. I had also raised his body into the air with such little effort he had instantly been reminded of my true strength – my ability of true domination. This is the reaction I had wanted. I needed him to know I could always take back the reins of control no matter how turned on he made me. Then, like a lightning flash I realized this entire exchange had been another test. His face now had the kind of smile that confirmed this revelation. He had wanted to make sure I couldn’t be forced to lose control. He needed to know that his big muscle daddy would always be in charge – even of his own big body. This knowledge made me tense my arms, tighten my grip at his sides, and start lifting his body up and down in the air as I continued to walk around his big office. “You want to slam me against the wall, don’t you, big man?” he asked, knowing the answer already. “Yes, but I would never hurt you. I want to do it only to show you my power,” I replied. “You need to know I’m always in control of my huge body . . . my will . . . my emotions.” “Yes,” he said, knowing we understood each other in a way absolutely no one else would understand. “Maybe I’ll just rip that crisp shirt off of your body and turn it into shreds,” I answered – still holding him in the air. “No you won’t. It turns you on to much,” he replied. “You know me so well,” I said. “We know each other so well,” he softly answered. I stopped walking and we just stared into each other’s arm. We were now teetering on that deep abyss called love. We both knew that soon and very soon we would join hands and jump into that darkness with our eyes and hearts wide open – we would become muscle daddy and pup in a bond that no one or nothing could ever separate. My own heart was about to explode from desire for this gorgeous young pup. I wanted to fill his every waking hour with pure muscle joy – like a good older muscle daddy should. He completely understood how smitten I was, because he felt the same way, too. Our moment of intimacy was interrupted by a woman’s voice. “Mr. Smithson, do I need to call security?” his secretary asked. “Not unless you want to watch them be easily defeated,” Bradley said without taking his eyes from mine. “I heard something like the cry of a wild animal, sir,” she added. “That was just my big friend, here, getting excited as we worked out the details of a big merger,” Bradley responded – still staring at me. “Shall I draw up so papers, sir?” she asked. “No, this is the kind of merger that is sealed in a much more intimate way and place than in a boardroom full of lawyers. You might want to start looking at china patterns for me, though.” Bradley confessed – and the surprising information was not lost on Sarah. Her response immediately told me she was very good at her job, but, then, I never doubted Bradley wouldn’t have the best. “I know some excellent wedding planners, sir,” Sarah said, and both Bradley and I turned to see her big smiling face before she turned and left the office. I immediately set the young handsome man down on the floor, noticing he was a little unstable merely because he had already gotten used to being held in the air. I took a step back. The word ‘wedding’ had made all of this emotion . . . all of this lust . . . all of this desire instantly real. I was suddenly a little dazed and confused. Bradley sensed all of this. He simply stepped forward, grabbed the front of my shirt, pulled, and was thankful that I bent over. He then kissed me gently, passionately, and lovingly. Instantly, my mind was clear and that one-point focus returned. His kiss made my body invincible. He made me feel like Superman. My muscle daddy-ness came roaring back into my body with a force so strong I had a feeling I could twist a bunch of iron girders into a bouquet for him. He pulled his face back and looked me in the eyes with a type of love I had never sensed before. It almost brought tears to my eyes. I knew what he was going to say before it even came out of his mouth. I realized, instantly, that a moment as special as this would never come again. I forced my humongous body and mind to be fully present – so I’d remember how all of this felt for the rest of my life. “I need you to be my muscle daddy, Butch,” Bradley said with more love than I knew was possible. “I don’t ever want to take another breath without you by my side. I offer you my heart, knowing you’ll protect it as if it were your own. I want you to help me to give up control.” I knew I didn’t need to respond with words. A man like Bradley needed actions. I raised my right arm into the most tensed biceps flex I had ever done in my entire life. I marveled at how blessed I was as the small man moved his face toward my big gun. When his lips met my hard muscle my body shook with incredible joy, my heart was filled with a love that couldn’t be explained, and my mind became completely jammed with only thoughts of Bradley. I instinctively knew to cup the back of his head with my other big paw and push his face into my big biceps even harder. I was sealing our muscle daddy – pup pact with a loving, but domineering action. It was what Bradley needed me to do. I was still – and would always be – a muscle daddy, no matter how much I loved the young man. That’s how he needed it to be. That’s what he wanted more than anything. I slowly brought my big arms down and wrapped them around the gorgeous man of my dreams. I lifted him off the ground in a tight, powerful bear hug. I surrounded him with muscle, but, even more so, I surrounded him with my daddy-ness. The end.
  21. 15 points
    I haven't posted a story in a while - here's my next offering, I hope it's enjoyable...I really loved writing it. There are three parts, all pretty much written so I might post some more later. Part 1 “Oh FUCK baby…give it to me,” Justin moaned. I looked down to watch my thick cock sliding in and out of my boyfriend-of-2-years’ tight ass. “Mmmm, you fucking slut,” I growled, picking up the pace, ramming my 8-inch cock in hard and fast, enjoying the sound of Justin’s breath catching in his throat as I did. We both LOVED fucking doggy style. I grabbed his hips with both hands, pulling him back onto my cock and looking down to see my flexed biceps bulging. Justin screamed with pleasure. “OH FUCK YEAH”. Sweat dripped from my heaving, swollen pecs down onto my defined abs. Still pounding Justin’s sexy ass, I ran one hand up his back, feeling him shiver to my touch, and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back hard. “Mmmmmmm YEAH,” Justin moaned, desperate. He loved it rough. “TAKE THIS THICK COCK SLUT BOY,” I roared, fucking him even harder. Justin gasped, moaning continuously and pushing his twink ass back onto my cock. “Breed me Daddy,” he begged. I was getting close. “Oh I will boy,” I grunted, pounding him like an animal rutting. I looked up at the mirror on the wardrobe opposite our bed. God we looked hot when we fucked. I brought one arm up, flexing my bicep as I hammered Justin’s ass hard. I loved the look of my swollen peak, veins mapped across the surface, the epitome of manliness. Justin loved it too – he looked up while we fucked and then reached down, starting to jerk his cock as he stared at my pumped bicep. “Mmmmm look at your fucking huge biceps,” he groaned, clearly close to cumming himself. The sight of my hot twink boyfriend jerking his cock to my muscular arms, pushed me over the edge. “FUCK BABE I’M GONNA CUM,” I roared, feeling the orgasm start to rise up from my swollen balls. “BREED YOUR BOY,” Justin moaned in response as I grabbed his hips again, thrusting my throbbing dick deep in him. With that, my thick cock swelled even more, pleasure ripping through my entire body and an animalistic scream escaping my mouth. Jets of cum shot from my cock and I looked down to see Justin writhing too in his own intense orgasm. It was always like this for us. “FUCK,” we both screamed over and over, bodies writhing. I collapsed forward, my hard cock still in Justin’s tight ass. I knew he liked the feel of me on top of him like this and heard him sigh in pleasure. We lay like that for several minutes as our powerful orgasms continued to subside, our rapid breathing starting to settle. “Right babe…I need to hit the shower,” I said, suddenly aware of the time – I couldn’t be late for work again. He tried to reply but no real words came out. I chuckled as I headed to the bathroom, pleased I could still fuck him into a sex coma. I turned on the shower and, as I waited for the water to heat up, I appreciated my reflection in the large mirror above the sink. I couldn’t deny I was pretty happy with what I saw. Pushing on for 35 and with a busy job that involved plenty of shift work I had to put in a lot of effort to stay in shape. A boyfriend 10 years younger than me certainly helped as motivation. I’d been hitting the gym 4 times a week for 15 years and I guess it showed. I liked how my slightly hairy pecs jutted out over my abs, still heaving from the exertion of the fuck. I liked the size of my arms – I couldn’t help pulling a double bicep flex and watching the symmetrical mounds of muscle bunch up tight. Impressive peaks for an amateur lifter. I liked my 8 pack abs and the “v” leading down to my thick, now soft, cock. And I fucking loved my quads – big and thick – just looking at them made me feel so strong. I quickly jumped in the shower, conscious that if I kept up this line of thought I’d be rock hard again and subsequently late for work. I let the warm water cascade over my worked-out body, totally relaxed from the amazing fuck session. Five minutes later, I was back in the bedroom, a towel wrapped around my waist. Justin had barely moved, other than to flip himself over so that he was now lying staring at the ceiling, his arms above his head. I couldn’t help letting out a deep moan as I took in the beauty lying in front of me. I loved his slim figure and smooth skin, still glistening with drops of sweat from his pounding. His cute boyish face was totally peaceful and a beautiful smile lightened his features as he opened his eyes to look at me. I ran a hand up his tight abs (Justin too kept himself in shape) and then tweaked his hot nipples causing him to shudder in response. “Don’t…” he moaned. “You’ll be late for work…”. A mischievous smile on his face. I knew he was right and headed over to the wardrobe to find my work clothes. “Erm…Dan?” Justin said a minute later, his hesitancy causing me to turn and take in the slight frown that had appeared on his face. “Yeah babe…what’s up?” I asked, pulling on my scrubs and walking over to sit next to him again. “I was just thinking…” Justin was never nervous. “Go on babe, spit it out,” I said kindly, stroking his short blond hair. “Well…could we…perhaps…try it the other way round next time?” he asked, immediately looking to the side to avoid my gaze. Ah. “Justin…we’ve talked about this. I just don’t think it would work babe,” I replied, full of love for him. “Why not Dan? You never tell me why…” he said, accusation in his voice. This conversation came up from time to time. At first, it had been natural that I’d be the one doing the fucking – Justin loved riding cock and I loved to give it. Recently though he’d been more questioning…why couldn’t we swap sometimes? It was getting more and more difficult to diffuse the situation… “It’s because of this isn’t it?” he questioned angrily, holding his cock in his hand. I was surprised at his directness and was too slow to deny the accusation. It didn’t help that there was truth in what he said – Justin was blessed with a cute face and fit body but his smaller-than-average cock had always been a sore point for him. I didn’t want the experience to be disappointing for either of us… “I knew it,” he barked, his normally beautiful features rearranged into a mask of anger and humiliation. “No Justin…it’s not that,” I replied, trying to placate him. It was not a total lie. There was something else contributing to my reluctance – I had to admit that I’d gotten used to being the “big spoon” in our relationship. It just worked for us. The idea of taking on a more submissive role would be hard to swallow and even harder to admit. “You’re lying,” he shouted, tears welling up in his eyes. “No babe…wait,” I pleaded as he jumped up and ran to the bathroom. I heard the lock click and knew it was too late to convince him otherwise.
  22. 15 points
    It was happening again, Jimmy could feel it. A pulling feeling deep in his guts, a throbbing that run up his spine. It was his time of the month again, but it couldn’t be, it was too soon. Since puberty started Jimmy would have these really strange male periods, for a couple minutes for one day a month Jimmy couldn’t be around any other men because they would change. Jimmy was at a friends house staying over to play video games for one last time before they went to college. So the second Jimmy felt the pressure building inside him he made an excuse and went to hide in the bathroom. He’d only be gone a couple minutes, not long enough for anyone to notice. Jimmy didn’t want his friend Tim to end up like the others who’d been around Jimmy during his time of the month. It had happened a few times, the first victims being his dad and older brother. They didn’t see themselves as victims, but then they didn’t even realize anything had changed. The first time it happened Jimmy hardly knew what was happening, but he put the feeling of pressure and the sudden massive muscle growth together. All Jimmy did was look at his dad and brother and with a flash of light two hulking hairy studs had replaced them. And no one saw any difference, it was like they had always been hunks. But Jimmy worked out the rules of this power very quickly, it would only change men, it happened once a month and he couldn’t change himself. He’d worked the last rule out after several tries of just sitting in front of a mirror. But Jimmy was a little suspicious that he’d changed a little. Somehow whatever he wore showed off his plump butt, even clothes that were several sizes to big became tight when he pulled them on. Which for a straight guy who turned other guys into hulking horny gods once a month was bad. This was why he was so desperate to control his power, he didn’t want to get fucked again like last time when he changed the mailman. So Jimmy could only sigh when he opened the bathroom door and found Tim’s dad Keith lounging in the bath with a book in hand. “Hey Jimmy” Keith greeted in surprise “There’s another bathroom downstairs….” he started but the flash of light silenced him Instead of the soft 40 something man that Keith had been a bulky tanned much younger hunk sat in his place. Jimmy felt the throbbing in his spine move down to his ass. Keith grinned and gave his pecs a bounce before rising out of the water. Jimmy looked straight into the soft fat cock and swollen balls that slowly started to swell. “Come on little guy, you’ve been asking for this for years” Keith explained as he still dripping with water led Jimmy out of the bathroom and towards his bedroom Jimmy didn’t fight it, his body wanted it, but his mind never did. After the first couple of incidents he decided just to let it happen. Keith pulled Jimmy onto the bed, his heavy wet body soaking through Jimmy’s clothes. Keith tore Jimmy’s shorts off with his big hands and flipped the boy around. Jimmy’s face pressed against Keith’s rock hard cock and instinctively started to swallow it down. Keith’s long tongue delved between Jimmy’s peachy cheeks and found his tight hole. They weren’t at it for long before Tim appeared in the doorway. He and Jimmy were the same age, but Tim looked much more adult than Jimmy. His power having held Jimmy back a bit, probably so he couldn’t fight off the big hunks he created. Tim was only able to get out a gasp as Keith’s cock popped out of Jimmy’s mouth and Jimmy looked at Tim. There was a flash and Tim was replaced by a man bigger, beefier and much better hung than his father. Keith didn’t care that his son was in the room, only Jimmy’s ass mattered. “Nice one dad” Tim boomed “Wanted to fuck the little slut for ages” Big Tim thudded over to Jimmy and grabbed a handful of his hair. Jimmy’s jaw dropped open hoping it was wide enough for his friends giant monster cock. As Jimmy was taken at either end by the big father and son duel the pressure in his guts stopped and it would be a whole month before it came back.
  23. 15 points
    Chapter 15 Today is my first shift at my new job. I received offers from a wide variety of places, including a number of Michelin starred restaurants. But now that I have Dean, I don’t feel such a pull to prove myself by being successful. And working in a packed kitchen is oppressive, stressful, and takes a lot of time. So instead I go for a nearby patisserie café – Last on the Left. The salary is still very good, but the work will be a lot more relaxed. And the shop itself is beautiful, which is always a bonus. It feels weird to leave Dean behind. We’ve been practically joined at the hip for weeks now. This is for the best – we can’t be around each other all the time. When he and I started this relationship, I gave the condition that I had to be allowed to live my own life. That’s what I’m doing now. Besides, it gives him a chance to be a superhero. As I walk to work, I notice a white truck parked right across from our building. The space is reserved by a woman with a convertible, so I don’t know what a truck is doing in that spot. The shop’s owner is a charismatic woman called Jolene. I spoke to her on the phone, but in person she’s a lot louder. She's ex-navy, and it shows in everything from her cleanliness to her posture. I can immediately tell we’re going to get along. The kitchen is immaculate, all chrome and clean white tiles. I’m in heaven. I need no introduction to any of the equipment, and since I’ve been itching to bake ever since losing my job at the Shard, I’m halfway through the preparation for a batch of profiteroles before Jolene has even finished the introductions. She watches me bake from the kitchen doorway, keeping an eye on our customers. I get the occasional question on my technique, what recipes I use, what I know how to cook and what I want to learn. I answer them all. It’s nice to have someone to talk to. With the whole kitchen to myself, I don’t need to worry about cleaning up after anyone else, or stepping on any feet, or shouting to be heard. And there’s no menu. I can cook whatever I want, and Jolene will change the refrigerated displays accordingly. We work like this for most of the day. Business is booming, but never becomes overbearing. As the afternoon races on and the flood of customers reduces to a trickle, I find myself out of the kitchen more often than I’m in it, chatting with customers in the warm sunlight, sipping tea and listening to Jolene’s stories of working as a cook on the HMS Kent when she was younger. At one point, I step outside for a breath of fresh air, and notice a white van parked next door. It’s definitely the same one from earlier. It has a scuff of dirt in the same spot on the windshield, the same license plate. What a bizarre coincidence. Out of all the places in London, it ended up here. While I’m finishing our last batch for the evening, the bell rings to signal that a customer has come in. Jolene lets out a gasp and whispers under her breath. “Christ on a cracker, that’s a lot of man. I’d let him fold me up like a lawn chair and turn me inside out.” I burst into laughter, carefully removing the tray from the oven. “He’s really that good?” “Better.” I feel her hand tapping my shoulder. “I need you to be my wingman. He’s coming!” Taking a moment to compose myself, I transfer the strudels to a cooling rack before returning to the shop front, but what I find sends me into another fit of laughter far more powerful than the last. My knuckles go white on the top of the counter. I fight to regain my breath. Dean scratches his neck and smiles politely to Jolene as she leans forward with her cleavage on show, pouting up a storm. “Hey handsome. You free tonight?” She mimes a kiss. Now I’m wiping tears from my eyes. Dean’s cheeks flush red. He clears his throat. “Uh…” This may be the first time I’ve seen him so shaken. Licking her lips, Jolene pushes her advantage. “You can do whatever you want to me.” Okay, that’s enough. I finally decide to rescue my poor defenceless boyfriend. “Jo, why don’t I handle this customer? The strudels need dusting with icing sugar.” She slips into the kitchen with a knowing nod. “Make me sound sophisticated.” “Yes Ma’am.” With her gone, I take her place in front of Dean. One look at each other and the laughter breaks out again. “That’s Jolene.” “She’s… nice.” “I’m guessing you heard everything?” He shrugs. “Yeah… I can take a tank shell to the face with no problems, but that was too much.” “Who knew your one weakness was a strong independent woman?” “I’ll never look at a lawn chair in quite the same way…” He grins. His enormous hands are splayed on the counter, making mine took fragile and tiny by comparison. “Although it did give me a few ideas.” “Really? Do tell… though I should warn you, if they’re naughty, I will scream.” He hunches down so that his mouth is next to my ear. “Oh, you’ll be screaming alright.” I gulp. He smirks. “What…” I take a few deep breaths. “What can I get for you?” Dean asks for a coffee and some Danish pastries, which I refuse to let him pay for (much to his annoyance), then he finds a spot in the corner of the shop. It’s pretty empty so there are plenty of spaces. Besides him, a pair of old women nibble biscuits and talk about their grandkids, and a group of stocky young men in gym clothes are near the back, sipping cans of cider from their pockets which they think we haven’t noticed, and are gradually getting more rowdy by the minute. Neither Jolene nor myself have the guts to kick them out because the last thing we want is a scene, so we’re waiting in the hope that they get bored and leave. I keep casting glances at Dean as we sort through stock and prepare to close. Why did he come here? Knowing how paranoid he can be, he probably got worried about letting me walk home in the dark on a Friday night, and came to escort me. That would explain why he arrived so late into the shift, and why he hasn't left despite finishing his coffee ten minutes ago. As Jolene helps me wipe down the cooking equipment in the kitchen, she shoots me a glare. “Worst wingman ever. You could’ve told me I never stood a chance.” “What do you mean?” She’s clearly referring to Dean, but I want to see where this goes. “That hunk. I cranked the charm up to a hundred, and you know that shit always works. No man can resist these curves.” Jolene demonstrates her point with a swing of her formidably sized hips. “But the moment you appeared, it’s like he forgot I was even there. I might as well have turned into a damned lampshade. The guy couldn’t take his eyes off you. Totally smitten.” “You think so?” “Hell yes, honey.” She vigorously nods. “That was the face of a man in love.” Now there’s a stupid big smile on my face. Knowing that someone so strong and powerful and protective is in love with me to such an extreme that it’s visible even to a random stranger causes warmth to hum in my chest. “He is kinda’ hot.” I admit, fully aware that Dean is listening to every word we say. “Did you see his arms?” “It’s hard not to. Those biceps were the size of my head. I always thought really big bodybuilder types with all the veins were kind of gross, but I’ve honestly changed my mind.” She closes her eyes, lost in a fantasy. “I bet he feels rock hard under all those clothes.” He does. But I’ll keep that to myself. Part of the fun of worshipping Dean’s body is that I’m the only person who can. “You startin’?” A deep shout echoes in from the shop front. “Piss off! I’ll fucking batter yuh.” Another voice replies. “I’ll fuck yuh nan, mate!” Jolene and I roll our eyes at each other. We both hold up a hand. Rock, paper, scissors. Rock, paper, scissors. Shit. She wins both times. “Okay, I’ll go deal with them.” I say with a sigh. This job was meant to be easy. I return to find two of the young men shoving at each other, getting in each other’s faces, and generally being aggressive. The rest of the group are standing around to watch, egging them on. The nearby tables have been shoved out of the way to make a clearing. This is definitely going to turn violent if it isn’t de-escalated. “Okay guys, can you take this outside?” I say as I approach, wiping my hands on my apron. Every eye immediately flashes to me. Now that I see their faces, it’s obvious that this is going to be a challenge. They’re all completely drunk. “We’re closing up. I don’t mind you sticking around until you’re ready to leave, but I’d rather not be here until tomorrow morning cleaning blood off the floor.” “Fuck off. This is getting good.” Shouts one of the onlookers as he tosses a half-empty can of Stella at my head. I manage to dodge out of the way, but the loud clanging tells me I’ll have to mop again. The guy who threw it has his phone out and is filming the whole thing to put on snapchat. “Matt’s gonna’ knock Gav’s block off! Wahey!” He shouts, and the others join in, chanting some football song. “Look, if you leave now, I’ll let each of you take a treat. Sound fair?” I know I shouldn’t be rewarding bad behaviour, but at this point, I’ll take whatever gets rid of these assholes. And the pastries would just be thrown in the bin when we close anyway. The promise of food seems to sway some of them, but that only angers the rest who wanted to see a fight. One of them shoves me in the chest. He might only be seventeen or so, but he’s still bigger than me. I stumble back and slip on the beer. The guys burst into laughter in response. Before I hit the ground, two hands close around my waist and lift me back onto my feet. Then my view of the men is eclipsed by Dean’s colossal back. He’s tensing every muscle in his body. I see his traps rise and fall on his neck, his forearms twitch and flex. Two thick horseshoe triceps stand clear on the backs of his arms. The black shirt he’s wearing isn’t tight, but it still struggles to hide the densely packed mounds of muscle which coat him like a suit of armour. He looms over the guy who pushed me. “Don’t you ever touch my boyfriend.” The guy puffs out his chest, all bluster. “I’m not scared of a fuckin’ faggot.” Dean’s hand closes around the back of the guy’s shirt and lifts him effortlessly into the air. His legs dangle a foot off the ground. “Say that again.” His voice has lowered to a bestial growl. The guy’s face drains of colour. “I… uh…” He bites his lip, wisely choosing to stay silent. “That’s what I thought.” When he lets go, the guy slips on the beer and lands flat on his ass. “Anyone else want to chat shit? No? Then get the fuck out and don’t come back.” One of the onlookers speaks up. “Do we still get free pastr…” One look from Dean and he shuts up real quick. “Never mind.” When the young men are gone, Dean takes me aside and asks “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” “Only my pride.” I force a smile. “Thanks Dean.” “It was nothing.” “I’ve never heard you call me your boyfriend in public before. I like it.” His face breaks into a boyish grin. “So do I.” Together we get the floor cleaned up and make our way out into the night. Jolene stays behind to close up shop. The journey home is totally fine, and I probably never had anything to worry about, but I sense that Dean is happy knowing I’m protected, even if there’s nothing around to be protected from. I briefly wonder whether I should tell him about the strange truck I saw. But I decide against it. It’s not a very interesting story, and besides, the café isn’t that far from home. It's probably nothing.
  24. 15 points
    Part X Throwing the door to the sauna open I bark “get out” at the one small guy in the room. His eyes bulge in response to my impressive form and he dutifully obeys, rushing toward the door, trying to keep his towel around his waist. I walk over to the wooden bench and recline back, feeling my sweaty, hairy ass on the warm bench. Leaning back I’m able to get a prime view of the changes unfolding in front of me. My chest continues to expand. The mass of muscle spreads further down my front, inching closer to my core. The gap between my pecs dwindles, the two glaciers moving closer to one another. I give my right pec a flex and feel the muscle tighten and expand forward. I cup the mound and give it a squeeze, the flesh beneath refuses to budge regardless of how hard I try to make it bend to my will. I let go, my pec red from the effort and my hand on fire. Upon inspection, I notice my nipples have darkened somewhat and grown larger around. I reach out with a single finger and massage one. I can feel thin wisps of hair becoming matted with my sweat and the steam of the sauna. I close my eyes and lose myself in the ecstasy of the situation. The pleasure from my sensitive nipples being toyed with and the feeling of increasing heaviness of my muscles makes my already plump cock begin to harden. I don’t dare touch it though, the feeling is too good and I intend to ride it out as long as I can muster. I crack open my eyes to watch my behemoth rise to full size. The thin material of the jock was already stretched but the growing rod inside its tight pouch forces the material to become translucent so that I can see my bright red head clearly. I feel the jock’s hem rise from my thighs as my cock drives the pouch from my body creating a large tent. The stretching fabric finally stops, its elasticity has ended and now the war between my still growing cock and the expertly engineered jock is being waged. I know who the winner will be though, it’s only a matter of time before I rip through these like the true alpha I am. My attention is ripped away from my barely contained rod as I hear Blake’s voice boom from before me. “Nice pecker.” He smirks and stands in the door of the sauna. “What the fuck do you want?” I reply angrily. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t doing anything dumb. You stormed off.” He replies. “But it looks like you’ve got things under control.” He trods over beside me and peels his shirt off. He then slides his shorts down and reveals his overly stuffed jock strap. “Plus I could use the steam and maybe a release.” He says grabbing his junk. “And I think a release would do you some good too.” Still pissed from earlier I look at him and immediately down to his jock stuffed with his soft cock. “Looks like I’m the big bro right now.” I say as I grab the head of my cock through my jock. “Maybe right now, but not for long.” Blake replies as he begins massaging his huge bulge through his wet jock. “What do you say we shuck these jocks and get right down to business?” I extricate my rock hard cock from my jock and throw it to the floor. I’m sad that I didn’t get the opportunity to see if I could shred the fabric with my growing rod. Blake does the same, revealing his still soft python. It looks slightly larger from earlier but I chalk it up to the heat of the sauna. “Give me a minute to catch up.” He says. “This thing takes quite an effort to get rock hard.” I scoff and begin casually massaging the base of my cock, making sure to show as many of my inches as possible. Blake has his eyes closed and his right hand is stroking his soft shaft. As his hand extends out the pliable skin of his cock follows and his cock narrows slightly. When his hand stops I can tell that he’s pulled his soft cock as far as it will go which is almost double his un-stretched length. “God damn.” I mutter jealously under my breath. “I know, right. I still get impressed with it daily even after all this time.” He smiles, bearing a single one of his pearly white canines. “Most guys in the locker room think I’m just a shower. But really, I’m a grower.”
  25. 15 points
    Merry Christmas, everyone. Part 3 *** Dr. Ben was presenting his newest analysis to a late-night gathering of researchers. "You can see how Jordan's endocrine system is morphing in several ways. It's not just the abundance of testosterone - which still seems to be rising - but his entire body that's changing. The proliferation of hormone receptors mean that his body could be up to twice as sensitive to testosterone as a normal person. And the exaggerated muscle growth response is also accelerated by the virus, through mechanisms like neural myelination. "Furthermore, the virus is changing Jordan's muscle into a denser tissue than what we normally expect. It is heavier and denser, but it has comparable maintenance cost to the body. We believe this was how Jordan was able to gain weight on a calorie deficit. "All of these adaptations have been observed before, but never in a single patient. We think that Jordan's viral strain is the 'perfect storm' of hypertrophy-inducing characteristics. The potential for transformation is frightening. But, we will continue to support him as much as we are able." *** Jordan was dreaming he was back at his dorm room. In his dream, he was trying to get dressed, but none of the clothes he had fit him any more. He searched his closet for anything that could contain him. He tried some "XXXL" shirts but they hung off his pecs down to his navel. He realised he must have grown taller. Then he noticed that his head was practically bumping against the roof. He tried to leave the room wearing nothing but a too-tight pair of shorts. But he could barely fit through the door. He had to squat down and squeeze through, but half way through he got stuck. There's no way, he thought... Jordan woke up with a start. The first thing he noticed was that he was horny out of his mind. His first impulse was to jerk off immediately. He reached down to his crotch. His dick was hard so often these days it felt like he barely had time to keep it satisfied, in between lifting and feeding sessions. Thank god his roommate was cool with it. The big athlete started to jerk his throbbing tool. But something was different. He looked down his body. There was enough light to make out that his dick head was now sitting above his navel, closer to his pecs than before. Unbelievable, he thought. His cock was growing as well. It was like a second puberty. The head of his cock belched out precum. Jordan's mind was becoming a haze of lust. This intense arousal was becoming his new normal. It was like being a 17 year-old who hadn't jerked off for days, but all the time. Fuck. His cock was so big. So much huger than John's pencil dick. God damn, Jordan realised, he was a fucking beast. Most people could spend their entire lives fantasising about someone like him and never meet one. But here he was. People - men, women - would absolutely pay money to worship his body and cock. And the sickest part was that he had only just started to grow. Who knows how huge he would be by the end. Even the world's greatest experts couldn't say. He was blessed, chosen to become a freak, a walking force of fucking nature. Groaning, he reached a climax, and sprayed himself with seemingly unending waves of cum. Even his orgasms were better now, lasting well over a full minute. As he came down from his post-orgasm high, he couldn't imagine going back to what sex used to feel like. Still somewhat disoriented from his climax, he sneaked into the bathroom to freshen up. He used a damp washcloth to clean up the mess all over his chest and abs, marvelling at how much distance his ejaculation had covered. If he wasn't careful he could get a face full next time. Or start painting the furniture. On his way back to bed, he couldn't help but notice John. The bed, that seemed normal-size to Jordan, seemed to swallow up John. The dim light cast a long shadow, exaggerating Jordan's size even more. He looked like a giant, or an ogre, towering over the smaller man. Jordan felt compelled to do something to share the moment with John. He wanted to move his bed next to the other man. But, he decided they should probably both be awake and talk about it first. So, he put that thought away for now and fell back on his own bed, falling quickly into a relaxed sleep. *** John was picking away at his breakfast the next morning, while watching Jordan devour what seemed like an entire day's worth of food. The facility was trying to feed them both nutrient-rich, calorie-dense foods. John had eaten a small bowl of oatmeal with berries and syrup, followed by bacon and eggs on toast. He had some tablets to take with a glass of water to help round out any nutrient deficiencies. But Jordan had practically drunk 2 large bowls of oatmeal and was now eating the biggest fried English breakfast that John had ever seen. In addition to entire packets of bacon and sausages, there were stacks of fried bread and potatoes, a large bowl of beans, and an omelette with at least 12 eggs and a generous portion of cheese. "Is it ok for him to eat so much fried food? Isn't it, like, I dunno... bad for his heart or something?" John asked a researcher who was taking notes. "From what we can see, it doesn't make much difference. As long as he gets enough calories, protein and fibre, he can't really go wrong. "Well, there are a few minor optimisations that we need to make to his diet. We're planning to feed him fish every day, for the oils, and the vitamin D that he loses from being in quarantine all day. But apart from that, the virus makes it difficult to go wrong. We monitor his arteries, and they are as healthy as they can be. Any excess fat is is immediately converted to sustain the existing muscle mass, or to fuel exertion during exercise, or for further growth." John sipped at a tall glass of orange juice. "It's just amazing, doctor. It's like... he's a sponge that can absorb energy from food.” The researcher laughed. "Yes, it is remarkable, isn't it? I hope some day we can find some way to isolate the mechanism of action and give people the ability to grow like this. Until then, well, I'll have to settle for watching it unfold in people like Jordan. It's hard not to be a bit jealous." John thought about it a little. Yes, he was jealous, for sure. But mostly, he was in awe. He wondered how Jordan felt about it all. They hadn't had much time to talk yet. He hope that Jordan didn't find his admiration weird or creepy. After breakfast, they had a bit of waiting time before the next body scan. Jordan was sipping - more like slurping - on a huge milkshake. John had seen the staff prepare it, it was made from a tub of Haagen-dazs and 4 scoops of protein powder. "So, are you full now? That seemed like a lot of food." "I mean, sort of... I mostly just feel... uncomfortable. I guess I feel 'full' physically, but still hungry. If that makes sense?" "Geez, are you ever NOT hungry?" "Haha, I mean, it stops bothering me after a while. But I would never, like, turn down a sandwich. The doctors say that unless I want to bloat out my stomach, I need to eat 5-6 small meals, like that one." "Holy crap. Is that what you call a small meal?" Jordan laughed a deep belly laugh. "I need calories to feed these gains!" He flexed a bicep for emphasis. "God, you are too much sometimes..." "Hey, buddy, I know how this must feel for you. You really like muscle, don't you?" "Ha, yeah... I guess I was an idiot for even thinking I could get big one day, like you. It's like I'm just fated to live in your shadow." "Dude. You heard what they said last training session. You had the best lifts of anyone with your condition. You and me, we're freaks of nature. They don't know how it's gonna end. So, you can't give up yet." "Hey, man, I appreciate the gesture. But, hey, who said anything about giving up? I might not be gifted like you, but I'm not going down without a fight. Why quit now, when I can just keep going?" Jordan grinned. "Sure, man. That's the spirit. I think." "Hey, man, you know I have, like, a thing, for, er, big guys... right?" Jordan raised an eyebrow. "Um... are we cool about that?" "To be honest, this is all new to me, little man. So consider this a voyage of discovery together, buddy. But, um, if I start getting uncomfortable, I might ask you to back off. Is that ok, dude? Like... I don't want you to get the wrong idea, you know." John was a little amused to see that Jordan was kind of embarrassed. "Hey, man, it's cool. No strings, or whatever. I just don't want to overstep your boundaries, I guess." "Thanks, dude. It's good to clear the air, man." *** The researchers were processing the latest body scans. "He's up to 265lbs now, muscle gain is within our expected projections." "You know, doctor, Jordan's genitals are getting larger... is that normal?" Dr. Ben took a look at the data in the print-out. "It's not unheard of... we aren't sure what the mechanism is exactly. As the virus stimulates testosterone production, it can increase the size of the male genitals at the same time. How much bigger are we talking here?" "It's difficult to say for sure, because there's a certain margin of error. It looks like the penile tissue mass is about 8% greater than our last reading, which was only a few days ago." "Hmm... keep tabs on it. That's quite rapid growth. I doubt his body can sustain it." "Also, the patient was reporting increased arousal and spontaneous erections, doctor." "Yes, that is quite normal. It will probably get worse in the weeks to come. He has internet access in his room, right? He can take care of it, surely." "What about John?" "If he complains, we can move in a curtain or something. His room won't be ready for at least a couple more weeks. And we can't allow them to leave." "Alright, doctor. I guess we will just wait and see how it goes, for now." *** Jordan was playing the new Street Fighter on a PlayStation and a TV that had been provided in the shared room. He was only wearing workout shorts. John was watching, sat on his bed, his laptop on his lap, untouched. The fighters in the game were ridiculously buff, cartoonishly muscular. Most people would probably find them gross. John got a hard-on when he thought about Jordan getting as big as that. No way that could happen. It had been deadlift day in the gym. The gym staff let John tap out after one shaky set of five at 225 lbs. Jordan started warming up at 300lbs. He had done six sets of ten at over 600lbs before the staff made him stop. John had never seen anyone move that much steel. Jordan insisted that he had some gas in the tank, so they let him barbell row nearly 400lbs for one mammoth set until he was too tired to continue. Jordan's back was ridiculously pumped and swollen. Sat on the floor, it looked strange the way his slim waist folded underneath his wide lats. He definitely looked like a pro bodybuilder at this point. "Jeez, man, how much bigger are you gonna get?" "Dunno, my dude. The doc says I'll eventually hit the limit of what I can grow on my frame, and that'll be that. The virus will run its course, and I'll be left with whatever I have as my new baseline. I probably won't be able to compete in sports as my testosterone will be permanently enhanced. It'll set off any doping tests." John thought that sounded pretty sweet, anyway. "OK, but how big do you want to get?" Jordan laughed. "Hey, I dunno, I never really thought about it until recently." John couldn't imagine not thinking about it. "Um, to be honest, just being this big is awesome. It's kind of embarrassing, but I hope I get really huge, you know? Like, sometimes, I dream about being TOO big. Like, unable to walk through doors and shit. Haha, is that weird, little dude?" John swallowed but didn't reply. "Hey John, are you horny? Because I am." Oh, shit, John thought. His cock was hard under his laptop. "Um..." Jordan paused Street Fighter and got up. He struggled to pull down his shorts over his pumped legs. John gasped as the athlete's thick throbbing dick bounced up. "You can watch, if you want." John didn't know what to say. Jordan walked over to his bed, laid back, and started casually stroking his cock. "It's bigger now, you know... since this started," he murmured. "Do you want to touch me?" John swallowed and told him the honest truth. "More than anything, right now." Jordan grinned. "Good answer. Let me see what I can do. Let's move these beds a bit closer." He got out of bed and reached under one end of the bed frame. He tried to drag it over to John, but it was heavier than he thought. "Uh, Jordan, I don't think you're supposed to..." With a grunt, cock throbbing, Jordan deadlifted the end of the bed off the ground. As it came up there was a loud snapping sound. Jordan looked down and saw that the bed had been bolted to the floor. "Uh... oops," he said with a cocky grin. John stared in awe as Jordan walked around the bed, cock bobbing, and snapped the bolts on the other side. "That's better", he said, as he dragged the bed so it was side-by-side with John's. The legs of the bed ground against the concrete floor, the steel spitting out sparks as it went. John's mouth was dry as Jordan climbed onto the bed. He started stroking his cock again. "My dude, check out my legs. They're so pumped from the workout today. Touch 'em." John reached out with both hands and ran them along the inside of Jordan's thigh. It's true, they were pumped, and vascular too. Compared to his skinny arms they seemed enormous. John felt his body was like a sick joke compared to Jordan. Jordan was what people were supposed to look like, and everyone else was a pale imitation, a shadow of his glory. "Fuck, dude. You look gorgeous between my legs. You should suck my cock." Lying back there, with the small man wrapping his lips around his cock, Jordan couldn't deny that this was better than the sex he had with women. One of John's hands played with Jordan's huge balls while another ran over his washboard 8-pack. John's skinny, veined arms were trembling at the raw masculinity of the larger athlete. Jordan realised that his dick was too big for John to deepthroat comfortably, so he was happy for John to only swallow part of the shaft, while jerking off the lower third of his dick. It was cool, most chicks struggled with his cock back when it was "normal sized", and John was honestly smaller than most of them. What if John wanted to get fucked in the ass by his new cock? The thought sent shivers through Jordan's body. He imagined slapping his dick against John back and ass. It had to be the biggest fucker that John had ever taken, he assumed. As his cock lurched and spewed sticky precum down John's throat, John's hands found their way to Jordan's huge pecs. Feeling for the nubs of his nipples, John grabbed on and twisted. "Holy fuck!" Jordan yelled as John yanked on his big pecs. He suddenly started shooting a huge load down John's throat, his cock pumping out sperm, John coughing and choking, finally spitting it out as it continued to spew sperm, all over his upper body. "Dude! How much cum was that?? Give me some warning next time... Jesus, it's all over my clothes..." "Fuck, man... that was great... so much better than jerking off..." John looked up from his ruined clothes to the sexiest thing he had ever seen. Jordan, resplendent in all his muscular glory, his huge dick still spurting small amounts of cum, his abs covered in sticky mess, his chest gleaming from sweat... John's head was spinning from the scent of sex and sweat... and gazing up at Jordan's eyes, glaring down at him with a satisfied smile, a cocky look that told John his place... he whimpered suddenly as he realised he was cumming in his underwear.

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