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Popular Content

Showing content with the highest reputation since 06/05/2020 in all areas

  1. 41 points
    Hello everyone. Long time viewer/reader, first-time writer. A little nervous about it, so any and all constructive feedback is welcome! This part is really only meant to be a taster of sorts. I'm 110% open to change. Let me know what you think; super excited that I'm finally contributing! Without further ado: __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Part 1: Tom was hovering in midair. He casually motioned his hands back and forth, as if he was conducting some sort of invisible orchestra. In reality, he was using his telekinesis to clean the living room effortlessly and in record time. Empty pizza boxes were pulled upward by an invisible force where they were instantly vaporized into nothingness. Stains off all varieties were simply removed from existence. Empty soda cans were melted into liquid form, which was then dispersed into the surrounding atmosphere. And throughout it all, Tom wasn't even looking at any of it. He was staring absentmindedly out the window. Such was the ease of this godly display of power that he didn't even need to devote his full attention to it. I simply sat and watched his nonchalant display of power with my usual awe. I suppose I could've helped, but how the hell is a measly little human like me supposed to add to this?! Within a minute of initiating the clean, Tom was finished. He turned in midair, hover over to the couch, and lowered himself down onto it. "All done" he said with a smile. His voice was impossibly beautiful and sexy. A deep baritone, masculine voice. "Thanks" I said, trying to pretend I wasn't intimidated my his godhood. Probably wasn't working though. Tom could just read my mind if he wanted to. "Want me to send you to sleep now?" Tom asked, his remarkable blue eyes filling me with a sense of comfort and safety as we made eye contact. I knew what he meant, and what he intended to do. With my mouth instantly going dry, and my body shaking from anticipation, all I could do was nod feebly. Tom stood up, walked to the center of the room, and turned to face me. With a simply wave of his hand, all of his clothes except for his form fitting, jet-black briefs disintegrated. His godly muscles were on display. Tom was 6'8'', and when he wasn't altering his density of using his flight power, he would normally weigh around 300 - 320 pounds. I began working my way down. His shoulders were massive. Powerful, rippling masses the size of cinder-blocks, with prominent traps that my whole hand could just barely cover. His pecs were next. Each one was the vision of perfection. Slabs of concrete; almost perfectly square, beefy, and large enough to cup. Like everything else, they rippled. He bounced them effortlessly, yet could also make them rock-solid at a moment's notice. His whole chest: 60'' His arms were of a similar make. Massive, 25'' machines that I've seen lifting impossible weights. Veins running through them, looking like steel cables, running down into his formidable looking forearms. His biceps and triceps were equally beautiful. His abs were the definition of beauty. A rippling, rock-hard eight pack, where each individual ab was arrogantly prominent, and the deep cuts that ran between them only emphasized how sculpted they were. Although I couldn't see if from where I sat, I have seen his back. His perfect, v-shaped back. Powerful mounds and ridges of muscle covering it all, guiding you slowly to his 33'' waist. And lets not forget to mention the glutes that it leads to. Two bulletproof hemispheres of pure muscle (and no, I'm not exaggerating). His legs put tree trunks to shame. 31'' thighs corded with titanium veins, towering above 24'' diamond-shaped calves. All of this balancing on bizarrely beautiful, size 15 feet. Of course, as a god, Tom's whole body was free of all forms of blemishes and other such imperfections. His skin was smooth and supply; an easily missed detail on account of the muscle that lay beneath. At the moment he had no body hair, although he could if he wanted to. But he wanted to make sure that I could see every striation, every subtle flex as clearly as possible. And so the light dusting of hair that sometimes coated his chest and forearms was willed out of existence. "Ready?" he said, smirking. I would try to describe the beauty of his face, but I don't think the necessary words actually exist. I gulped. Without taking his eyes off of me, he bounced his pecs. It was effortless for him. All other parts of his body stayed motionless; only his magnificent pecs moved. Their dance became increasingly complex; the two mounds moving to a rhythm like no other. Sometimes they bounced in unison, sometimes one at a time, and sometimes they alternated. My cock was as hard as stone. Suddenly, without warning, Tom tensed his abs. My description of them before described them in a non-flexed state. Imagine now what they looked like. Pre-cum soaked my pants. I hadn't even touch myself yet. And I knew I wasn't going to. Tom hit me next with a double biceps. Their peaks! If he had flexed just a bit harder they would've sent out a shock wave. His most muscular was next. His pecs... I began to convulse; my cock couldn't contain my arousal anymore. I came. He made me, without either of us touching it. Such was the beauty of his body and face. He smiled sweetly at me as I slowly began to lose consciousness from the strength of the orgasm. With a single hand and arm, Tom grabbed a fistful of my shirt's collar and smoothly lifted me from the couch. My 5'9'' frame dangled pathetically as he held me at arm's length with such ease. He bent his arm as he slowly brought me in from a kiss on the forehead, still holding me in the air all the while. His other arm simply hung at his side. Throughout all of this, my cock was still sputtering out small amounts of cum, dampening my already soaked underpants and jeans. "Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning" he whispered in my ear, as I finally lost complete consciousness from the orgasm. I passed out at the end of Tom's arm; he still held me as if I weighed the same as a balloon. The last thing I remember was the feel of my own feet dangling in the air. My arms hanging limp at my sides. My chin brushing the side of Tom's hand that gripped my shirt's collar before my head fell to the side. My whole body rendered weak and useless from the hundred orgasms Tom caused me to have in the space of a minute. I loved that feeling. My name is Frank, and this is the story of how I came to meet my roommate Tom. Who, by the way, happens to be an actual god.
  2. 40 points
    Keith laid passed out atop his bed. The action in the shower had proven too much for his still weakened body. Inside him, the organism let the Matt’s cum fuel itself for the final phase of the bonding process. It sensed that the organ inside its host’s head that seemed to control its host’s entire being was still weakened by the impact from the bigger male the day before. The organism sensed that the energy it would pull from the huge male’s spores combined with the vulnerable defenses of the soft organ would finally allow it to complete their fusion. It amassed every drop of energy it could pull from the hot liquid inside its host’s stomach, connected with the nerve system inside its host’s spine and let its tentacles shoot up toward its host’s head. Keith’s eyes shot open as he felt a heavy electric discharge shoot through his head. Instantly, his eyes closed again. The organism tapped onto the knowledge inside its host’s brain as it fused with the soft organ, gaining full and complete control of its host. It seized entire command over every cell inside its host’s body as it fused completely with him: their separate personalities merged into one as the organism implemented itself as the more dominant species of the two. It gained knowledge of how the body of this species, ‘humans’ as it called themselves, functioned. Combined with the personal memories of its host, ‘Keith’ apparently, it understood its place. It know also comprehended the running around with a ball on the grass: football was one of the popular sports and it excelled at it. It also recalled the clash with the bigger man, ‘Sean’, and that its own body was too weak to defend itself against the bigger guy. The safe feeling inside the arms of the large male popped up next and it knew what had to be done. He yanked down the boxers and willed the organ between his legs, ‘cock’, to harden. Within seconds the organ pointed straight up and he began stroking it. A first cloud of dust blew up into the air. An hour later, Matt stumbled back inside the dorm room. He inhaled sharply, still sweaty after his second workout of the morning, and walked over to his roommate’s bed. Keith was sleeping soundly. Matt stripped off and went into the bathroom quietly to take a shower. Keith heard the water running and slowly sat up atop his bed. After the fusion with the organism, his body felt completely better. He got up and began making a protein shake. “What are you doing out of bed?”. Keith turned around and saw his roommate coming from the bathroom. “A bit hungry. Made myself a shake. You want one too?”, he asked. “Nurse said ya should rest. Back in bed. I’ll make my own shake”, Matt replied and forced his smaller roommate to get back atop his bed. He prepared himself a triple dose shake and drank it down in four long gulps. “Glad ya’re feeling better, man. Well, I’m off for class. Ya keep in bed, mister”, he said as he grabbed his bag and left. Later that night, Keith laid atop his bed and stroked his cock violently, filling the air of their room with the clouds of dust he now produced. A week later, Matt sat at his desk doing an assignment that was overdue. His miraculous growth had hit another pace and the guy had somehow managed to add a whopping 39 pounds of pure muscle to his frame. He now stood a towering 6’8 and weighed an intimidating 322 pounds. Matt’s concentration kept turning away from the assignment to his own body as his left hand traced the lines of his abs through his skin-tight tank top. He couldn’t believe himself just how big, no massive he’d gotten: his muscles seemed ready to break free from his paper-thin skin. The tank top he was wearing clung to his chest, but couldn’t contain the entire mass of the massive pecs: almost half of his pecs spilled out from the sides along with his freakishly wide lats at the back to create a deep, dark armpit. The armor-like slabs of muscle atop his chest overstretched the tight fabric of the tank top that seemed ready to rip to shreds any second. His shoulders had morphed into freakishly thick, canon ball-sized orbs of muscle that were wider than most doorframes; coiling veins snaked along the front of the clearly separated heads of his humongous delts; beneath them, his arms were plain massive, decorated with a web of veins that crisscrossed along and across them onto his thick forearms filled with corded muscle. Matt tossed down his pen in frustration. Keith was lying atop his bed, reading a book. The symbiote was trying to acquire as much knowledge of this new planet as possible. He heard the frustrated grunt of his massive roommate. “What’s wrong, big guy?”, he asked as he put aside his book. Matt turned around in his chair to face his buddy. “Some stupid, useless assignment. Man, I could be in the gym lifting weights.” “Matt, you already went to the gym today. Twice”, Keith added. Matt ignored his roommate’ remark. “Should be forbidden to keep a body like this from the gym”, he said and brought up his arms in a double bicep pose. His biceps exploded into perfectly round, bowling ball-sized orbs of vein-choked rock-hard muscle as they swelled to the 26 inches they now measured. Keith looked in awe at the incredible sight. The organism that now fully controlled him was pleased with the changes it had invoked in the other male: he was now the biggest guy on campus and always protected him. “Biggest arms on the team. Impressive, man”, he said. Matt noted the look of admiration of his buddy and grinned at his remark. “ This is nothing. Ya should see me without my shirt”, he added and stood up. Keith inhaled sharply as his roommate grabbed his tank top at the bottom and pulled it off over his head. It was a spectacular sight to see the guy shirtless: his meaty traps mounded savagely atop the strong line of his shoulders; his shoulders looked even more intimidatingly round without a shirt; his huge pecs, bloated with swollen muscle formed a thick shelf that cast a shadow over the top half of his eight-pack and made his nipples point down to the floor, the separation between the two mounds of muscle was so deep Keith couldn’t see the bottom of it; his grooved eight-pack rippled with every breath he took, making the deep valleys between the brick-sized abs deepen rhythmically; his huge upped legs filled out his shorts completely, making them cling to the thick quads and hamstrings. “Can’t believe it myself, either”, Matt said at his roommate’s awe-filled look, “Feels like I have energy of five men. Like I’m exploding with muscle”. He hit a few poses to emphasize his point. Keith stared as his roommate’s massive muscles bulged and flexed from the movement. No one will touch me from now, he thought. “Check out my back, man”, Matt stated and turned around. He flared his lats, almost doubling in width and then pulled his arms back into his sides, making the surface of his broad back explode in a relief of hard, mounds of muscle that bulged into each other. Keith had gotten up and marched toward his roommate. His hands grabbed hold of the thick traps and clamped down hard onto them. The rock-hard muscle beneath them didn’t even budge an inch. “Its like your made of concrete, man”, he let out in pure amazement. Matt felt his roommate’s fingers test the hardness of his traps and grinned as his rock-hard muscle easily withstood the groping hands. He turned around to face his buddy. “Feel my pecs, Keith. There twice as massive than last time ya felt ‘em”, he let out. Keith stared at the thick, protruding orbs of hard meat atop his roommate’s chest.” Bigger than most girls boobs”, he said jokingly while he brought up his hands. He felt the heat radiating from the monster pecs as his slightly trembling hands almost touched them. A faint grunt escaped his lips when his palms made contact with the hot, hard surface. He weighed the slabs of beef, that made his hands look almost childishly small compared to their humongous size. He tested the muscles’ resistance and as with his roommate’s traps, the pecs didn’t budge under his grasp. Matt enjoyed his buddy’s reaction, feeling a jolt shoot through his cock inside his boxers. He bounced his pecs, making them dance under his roommate’s touch. Keith blinked as his fingers were pried open by the bulging pecs. His thumbs played with the hard nipples that pointed straight down. “Mmm”, Matt rumbled as electric shivers of pleasure shot through his nipples and a responding jolt through his hardening cock. “Feel my abs, man”, he added. Keith followed his 124 pound heavier buddy’s instruction. His fingers pinched the nipples a last time and slid down onto the corrugated landscape of the fantastic eight-pack. “So… perfect”, he mumbled as his fingers caressed the deep grooves separating the brick-sized abs. Matt grinned at his roommate’s remark and flexed his abs, sending his eight-pack into an even more intimidating display of ripped muscle. More blood flowed into his cock and the thick head pushed itself above the waistband of his boxers. Keith’s fingers continued their exploration of the now flexed eight-pack, sliding down onto the third row of abs. His right thumb bumped onto the fat head of his buddy’s still swelling cock. Keith stared up into his roommate’s eyes as he brought his right thumb up to his own mouth and licked off the salty precum. He eyes travelled down along the mighty torso and zoomed in on the hardening cock. He licked his lips in anticipation and made his move down. “No” The command made Keith freeze in his tracks and look up quizzically into the huge man’s eyes. “Ya always suck me off, man. My turn to give ya some pleasure”, Matt said and threw a most muscular. Keith and the organism that was now one with him marveled at the sight, but didn’t get what his roommate meant. Before he could ask anything, the huge man grabbed his armpit and put him up against the wall, making him face the bricks. “Hey”, he said as his roommate ripped away his shirt, pants and boxers to expose his own body. He heard another ripping sounds as his buddy ripped off his own boxers. “Place yar hands against the wall. Ya might need the support.” Keith obeyed the command. He shivered as he felt his roommate’s hot breath against the back of his own head. He also felt the heat emanating from the huge body as the massive man closed the distance between them. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt ya.” Keith felt his roommate’s mighty arms wrap themselves around him, embracing him. A feeling of complete safety filled him. He shook slightly as he felt the rock-hard cock rub against his ass. “Ssshhh”, Matt rumbled into his roommate’s ear as he felt the smaller guy shiver slightly inside his grasp, “We’ll go easy. I’ve saved myself for ya: ya’ll be the first to have my grown dick inside. Every 12.5 inches of it. I’ve never done it with a dude, but I’m so fucking horny I could fuck the wall right now.” Keith felt his ass draw together at his huge roommate’s remark. “Here we go”, Matt rumbled and positioned the head of his 12.5 incher against his buddy’s ass. Keith inhaled a bit shallowly as his roommate’s right arm unwrapped itself and his paw grabbed hold of his shoulder, capping his muscular delt completely. “AUWHGN”, he yelled out as the thick head of his buddy’s large cock entered his ass. His back arched, his toes curled into the floor and his hands clawed at the bricks of the wall in front of him as more of the 12.5 incher invaded him. “Easy, buddy. Calm down”, Matt whispered into his roommate’s ear as he momentarily stopped entering him. His left arm, still holding the smaller guy against his body, let go of the other guy and he moved his left paw up, gently stroking his buddy’s hair. Keith did feel his body relaxing from the soothing words and the gentle strokes atop his head. “There ya go”, Matt let out and eased deeper inside the smaller guy. “Mghpnfgh”, Keith groaned softly as the thick 12.5 incher invaded him teasingly slowly. He felt his roommate’s protruding pecs shove against his own neck and then, the tickling sensation of the huge man’s pubes brushing against his own ass. “So fucking tight”, Matt rumbled as he felt his buddy’s ass spams around his cock, “Feels so great”. His roommate’s lust-filled moans only excited him further. “Ya like this too, don’tcha?”, he whispered into the guy’s ear before he licked his earlobe. Keith felt electric shivers shoot through his body as his roommate teased his ear with his tongue. He felt his roommate’s right paw place itself atop his right hip and shuddered as the other paw gently pinched his nipple before it slid onto his shoulder. He felt the 12.5 incher retreat from his ass and a strange, almost bleating sound escaped his mouth as the cock was entirely pulled out of him. He inhaled deeply and before he could breath out, the hefty cock was repeating its invasion. It felt less painful than the first time. “Better this time?”, Matt asked while he eased deeper into his roommate. “Perfect”, he said at his buddy’s nodded reply and he pushed completely inside him a bit harder and faster. His powerful paws grabbed the smaller guy tightly and made him move on the rhythm of his motions: as he drove forward, he made his buddy move backward. His own breathing began going faster on the rhythm of his fucking. Keith’s vision began filling up with white explosions and dancing black dots as the 12.5 incher kept pumping back and forth inside him. Every time his roommate’s thick cock was completely inside him, it hit a point that sent waves of electric, pleasure-filled shocks through him. It was as if his roommate’s 12.5 incher had become the entire center of his existence. Somewhere in the midst of what seemed like an ocean of pleasure and lust, he felt the paw atop his hip move down. “What do we have here? Seems like ya’re enjoying this as much as me”, Matt growled into his buddy’s ear. Keith felt the huge paw wrap itself around his own, throbbing 8 incher. His roommate’s thick thumb, almost as thick as Keith’s cock, brushed the sensitive head of his cock as the other fingers pumped his achingly hard shaft. “MAAAATTUGHN”, he yelled out loud in a sound that seemed not from this earth as his balls clenched together and blasted out a thick cloud of spores. Matt felt his smaller roommate shudder against his body and heard him howl his name as the guy orgasmed. Keith blinked as his roommate pumped his 12.5 incher fully inside him again and he felt he cock jolt inside him, forcing him to stand on his toes. The paw pumping his shaft withdrew and he felt the left arm wrap itself tightly around his abs, pulling him into the hard torso. The paw grabbing his shoulder withdrew too and placed itself against the wall, making the horseshoe-shaped tricep jut out thickly from its back. “YEEAAUUGGHHNNN”, Matt roared in a deep, rumbling sound that thundered through the room. His arm tightened around his smaller buddy, digging into the guy’s muscular body without effort and his 12.5 incher began spewing out its loads deep inside the other guy. Keith peeped as he felt the anaconda-like arm dig into his own body. He felt the hot liquid filling him up and the heat spreading through his body. Instantly, the feeling of the hot semen filling his intestines, energized his body. His own 8 incher blasted out two more thick clouds of spores as his huge roommate kept squirting his loads into him. The mighty arm crushing him relaxed its grip as his roommate’s orgasm began wearing off. “Fucking great, man”, Matt growled into his smaller roommate’s ear. As he lowered his face to reach his buddy’s ear, the now large cloud of spores hit his nose and he inhaled it. He grabbed the other guy’s armpits and gently withdrew from him. As the spores were processed through his system, he felt a wave of energy flood his mighty body. “Feeling so much energy”, he said and flexed his pecs, “Gonna hit the gym”. Keith watched as his roommate put on his workout gear, blinked at him and left him in their room. “Go. And grow some more”, he said to the closed door.
  3. 39 points
    A feeling of dominance flowed through Matt as he saw Sean flinch. It was the first time the star quarterback hadn’t stood his ground and also the first time Matt had taken advantage of his new size. “Yar days as top dog are number, Hearst”, he growled at the quarterback who retreated at his own locker and got dressed quickly. Matt stripped and took a quick shower. As he got back to his locker, he got dressed quickly and went back to the infirmary to check on his roommate. Keith looked up as the door opened and smiled at his roommate. “How ya feelin’, bud?”, Matt asked and sat down next to his roommate atop the bed. “Bit shaken up. And a headache”, Keith replied a bit weakly, “Nurse told me you carried me in here.” Matt nodded. “Carried ya straight from the field in here.” “Thanks, man”, Keith said and gently patted his buddy’s hand. Matt smiled down onto his roommate. He looked aside as the door opened and stood up. “How long does he have to stay here, Miss?”, he asked. The nurse looked up at the huge athlete, her eyes quickly scanning his thickly muscled physique. “I want to keep him here for the night”, she answered, “If everything continues to evolve like this, mister Summers should be able to return to his room tomorrow morning. Now, you should give him the rest he needs.” “Thank you”, Matt stated and turned back to his roommate, “Get some rest, buddy. And I’ll see ya tomorrow morning.” Matt left his roommate and strutted away from the infirmary. He left the building and walked past the bleachers. “Matt!” The soft voice made Matt stop and look up. He saw a smoking hot girl sitting halfway the bleachers and get up. “Gwen?”, he asked as he recognized the top cheerleader and Sean’s girlfriend who descended toward him, “What are you doing out here?”. Gwen jumped from the bleachers and landed smoothly next to the huge jock. “Been waiting out here to talk to you”, she said as her eyes roamed the torso that filled out Matt’s shirt, “My friends and I watched the practice.” “I noticed you when we got out on the field”, Matt replied. “You did see me”, Gwen let out without taking her eyes from Matt’s torso, “You looked real good on the field.” “Biggest, strongest guy on the team”, Matt said proudly and playfully bounced his pecs. Gwen’s eyes widened as the protruding pecs danced beneath the tight shirt. “It’s getting late”, she said as she looked at her watch, “Care to walk me to my dorm room?” “Sure thing. Can’t let a pretty girl like you walk around campus alone at night”, Matt answered. Gwen giggled and took his arm, leading him over to her dorm room. Her hand played with the hard mass of the thick bicep as she walked alongside the huge jock. “Thanks for making me feel safe, Matt”, she said when they arrived at her room. “Care to come in?”, she added seductively. She didn’t wait for an answer: opened the door and grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants with her other hand and pulled him in her room. Matt let her lead him inside. “Don’t you feel warm? It’s kinda hot in here. Don’t mind pulling of your shirt to feel more comfortable”, Gwen said matter-off-factly. “You’re right. It’s kinda hot in here”, Matt replied with a grin and pulled off his shirt. His grin got a bit larger as he heard Gwen gasp. “You’re way bigger than Sean”, Gwen let out in awe and closed the distance between them. Matt’s grin only got broader as he felt her hands trace the hard lines separating his abs. He flexed his eight-pack under her touch. “Biggest guy on the team”, he growled as he felt blood flow to his cock. “You weren’t even flexing”, Gwen said in awe-filled disbelief as the strong abs hardened beneath her hands. “So hard. So ripped. Much more than Sean’s abs”, she added while her hands roamed all over the tight eight-pack. Her excited remarks filled with lust complementing his size sent more blood into Matt’s cock. She saw a more prominent bulge forming inside the jock’s pants. Her finger played with the treasure trail running down from his bellybutton in the center of the lowest row of abs before her left hand disappeared into his pants. Another moaned gasp escaped her mouth as her hand discovered his cock. She tried closing her fingers around it but the still swelling shaft was too thick for her grasp. Matt groaned as the frail fingers roamed along the length of his shaft. “I’m bigger than Sean in every way”, he said, “Check it”. Gwen quickly retreated her hand. She yanked down his sweatpants and boxers in an eager motion. She breathed in heavily as the jock’s cock swelled to its full 10.5 inches and smacked hard against his eight-pack. “Wow”, she muttered as she stared at the huge jock in his full glory. Matt stepped out of his pants and boxers, excited by the hot cheerleader’s reaction to his body. He pulled Gwen toward him and took off her shirt. He marveled at her firm, round breasts before freeing them from her bra. He leaned down to kiss her as his hands cupped her nice ass. He felt her hands roam across the mounds of muscle atop his wide back. Gwen’s knees buckled slightly as she felt his rock-hard cock pressing against her belly. The head of the huge jock’s cock brushed against the bottom of her breasts. Her head began to spin from his deep kiss. Her left hand slid along his back, over his sides and grabbed hold of his 10.5 incher between them. A shiver went through Matt’s mighty body as her frail hand clamped onto his cock. Gwen broke their kiss and her hands travelled up to Matt’s protruding chest. She shoved him backwards, making the 283 pound athlete take a step back. Matt felt the bed against the back of his knees and sat down atop it. He watched with lust as Gwen pulled off her now soaked underpants. Gwen smiled at Matt as she sat down atop his lap, his 10.5 incher standing up straight between them. Matt moved in for another kiss and wrapped his mighty arms around her delicate body to pull her in. his tongue invaded her mouth and he felt her hands claw against his back as he deepened the kiss. “Mmmm”, Gwen moaned as she was kissed more deeply. The strong mounds of muscle easily resisted her hands as she clawed against his broad back. Matt felt some of her juices leak from her pussy and rub onto his thick quads as he broke the kiss. Gwen inhaled deeply to recatch her breath. Her eyes zoomed in on the rock-hard 10.5 incher that pointed straight at the ceiling between them. Her hands reached for it and her fingers traced the veins that snaked along the lengthy shaft. She heard the huge jock groan and his erection throbbed under her touch. She moved her head down and gently licked the head of the 10.5 incher, letting her tongue tease the sensitive skin. Another groan escaped the jock’s mouth. She brought her mouth up to his ear. “I want you inside me”, she whispered excitedly. Matt opened his eyes at her remark. He carefully grabbed her sides and lifted her. His thick biceps bulged from the movement, but didn't feel her weight. Gwen giggled like a schoolgirl, a nervous laugh filled with excitement as she was lifted higher and higher. Her hands reached for the meaty, 23 inch biceps, groping the steely hard muscle that didn’t budge under her attempts to dig into it. “You’re so…hard. Feels like touching hot rocks”, she let out in between fastening breaths. Her hands slid along his arms, caressing the corded muscle atop his forearms. She looked down and saw that her pussy was right above the rock-hard cock. She looked straight into the huge jock’s eyes. Matt saw the mixture of lust and a hint of fear in the cheerleader’s eyes. “You decide, Gwen. We’ll go as fast as you want”, he said as he held her perfectly still above his cock. Gwen looked down and saw his large erection throb underneath her. Her lust for his majestic body overcame her instinctive fear. She grabbed hold of his meaty traps and got ready as she felt the thick head of his cock pushing against her pussy. “Do it”, she growled. Matt gentle lowered her a bit, making the top of his 10.5 incher slide inside her very slowly. His tongue played with one of her nipples. “Unpf”, Gwen moaned softly as electric shivers of pleasure exploded along her nipple through her. She lowered herself slightly and a scream of pleasure escaped her lips as the thick head slid fully inside her. “Yeaughn”, Matt let out as the warmth of her pussy enveloped the top of his 10.5 incher. His mighty quads hardened somewhat as he pushed his cock further inside her. Gwen’s mind span with pleasure and amazement of how gentle this huge man was treating her. This was nothing like the hurried fucks Sean gave her. “More”, she groaned in his ear before her mouth moved to his lips and kissed him passionately. Matt felt her hands clamp harder onto his traps, not denting his steely muscle, as he pushed further inside her. He felt hot juices flow along the length of his shaft as his cock disappeared deeper and deeper inside her. “So…big…so…hard…umpf”, Gwen grunted while two thirds of the 10.5 incher were now inside her. She wrapped her legs around his lower back and her hands clawed at the mounds of muscle spread across his wide back. “Bigger…than…umpf…Sean”, she let out as more pleasure flooded her body. Her last remark only added to Matt’s excitement. The thought of completely dominating the star quarterback on the field and now giving his girlfriend more pleasure than Sean could ever do, turned him beyond his wildest dreams. He gentle lowered her a bit more. Her hot juices made his cock slid in more easily. “Ah!... Yeaugn”, Gwen groaned when just over 8 inches of his cock were inside her. She threw back her head, arched her back, clamped hard onto the hard traps beneath her hands as her orgasm flooded her senses. “Euhghn… MORE”. Matt felt her pussy tighten around his cock and her hot juices flowed profusely along his shaft. He eased deeper inside her. “FUUUUCKUGHN”, Gwen screamed in extasy as the thick cock filled her deeper and deeper in its relentless invasion. “Oh…God…Matt…ughn”, she let out in between fast breaths. Her pussy spasmed around the jock’s dick that stretched it. She felt him getting even deeper inside her. “Biggest… so…thick…hard…never…had…ughn…so…mughnch…pleasure…pleaseughn”. Her hands balled into fist and she smacked them hard against his traps, her hands bouncing off the hard muscle. Her screams only turned Matt on even more. He pressed his cock in even deeper and more incoherent sounds escaped her mouth. He lowered her down completely and drove his 10.5 incher completely inside her. “HRAUGHN”, Gwenn screamed out as the thick head invaded her deeper than Sean had ever done. She felt his groin press against her and her orgasm only intensified. Her eyes rolled back as she felt his 10.5 incher throb inside her, sending a jolt through her body. Matt began thrusting his cock back and forth, making her bounce up and down along the top part of his shaft. He felt his own breathing go faster and faster and a tingle started to spread inside his hefty balls. “SO…ughn…strong…fuck”, Gwen yelped as more pleasure flooded her. “MORE…” Matt got more and more excited from her awe-filled screams. He felt his balls drew tight. He was on the verge of exploding himself. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in against his body to devour her mouth in a deep kiss. The feeling of her delicate body against his own, muscle-filled torso sent him over the edge. He broke their kiss, threw back his head and a deep, thundering roar escaped his mouth as he came deep inside her. Gwen groaned as she felt his thick, hot juices squirt deep inside her. She felt his mighty muscles tighten around her as his entire body tensed from his orgasm. Matt pumped his loads inside her. Thoughts of his sexual prowess and his new, superior size flooding his mind. He kept pumping out more loads into her, feeling her get tighter and tighter around his cock and feeling his own juices drip from her atop his hard quads. When his orgasm finally cooled down, her delicate body was lying passed out against his heavily muscled chest. He gently pulled her from his still hard cock and put her down atop the bed. He got up and began hitting pose after pose in the mirror as he felt pure testosterone coarse through his veins. “Mmmghn” The faint grunt made Matt turn around and he saw Gwen sitting atop the bed, staring at him. He grinned at her and flexed his pecs in an impressive display of hard striations. Gwen couldn’t believe that Matt was just standing there flexing. After a fuck, Sean was usually out for at least 15 minutes, but this man’s stamina was through the roof. put a finger in her mouth and sucked it as she watched him flex. Her other hand grabbed her own breast and played with the hard nipple. She noticed the huge jock’s half-hard cock harden as he hit another pose. “Come here”, she said and playfully motioned him over. Matt walked over toward the bed, his cock inflating further with every step he took in her direction. He stopped in front of the bed, towering over her. He shivered a bit as she instantly took most of his 10.5 incher in her mouth and began sucking. Gwen gagged as the thick cock filled her mouth. Her hands reached up and grabbed his balls. Matt groaned as her hands clenched around his balls. He placed his hands atop his hips and let her suck him. Within seconds, he felt his balls draw tight and he began spraying his load into her throat. Gwen gulped down as much as she could, but his balls quickly overstuffed her mouth with his cum despite his recent orgasm. Cum dripped along her lips and even from her nose as she pulled back. Her sight got dark as a final blast of his juices covered her face. Matt sat down aside her, cleaned up her face and gently placed her on the bed. He laid down next to her and sank off in a peaceful sleep. The next morning, Matt entered the infirmary at 7:30. He greeted the nurse and asked her if his buddy was okay. “Mister Summers can return to his room. Make sure he takes rest the remainder of the week. No classes, no training. Just plain rest”, the nurse said. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t leave his bed, Miss”, Matt replied and motioned his roommate to join him. Matt and Keith left the infirmary and began walking back to their room. “You didn’t have to come over this early”, Keith said. “No problem, man. I already hit the gym this morning and thought to pick ya up on my way back to our room”, Matt replied. “Did ya get some rest?”. “Yep”, Keith answered. He felt his breathing getting heavier as he tried keeping up with his bigger roommate. Matt’s powerful, long strides proved too much for his own, still weakened body. He paused and grabbed hold of the wall to catch his breath. He felt his legs shake slightly from the effort. Matt stopped as he didn’t got an answer on his question and turned around. He saw his roommate leaning against the wall a few feet backward and noticed the guy’s red face. “Keith, are you okay?”, he asked as he rushed back to his buddy. “F…fine”, Keith let out, “Still a bit weak, though. Can’t keep up with you”. “No worries. I’ll carry ya back to our room”, Matt replied and scooped up his roommate. Keith felt the powerful arms lift him and the next moment he was leaning against his roommate’s muscular pecs as he was held across the guy’s torso like a child. “Don’t…don’t hurt yourself, Matt”, he let out as he wrapped his arm along the thickly muscled neck and let his head rest against the boulder-like shoulder. Matt laughed a bit at the remark. “Trained my quads with heavier weights this morning. I think I can handle yar weight, bud”, he said and walked back to their room. Keith felt comfortable and totally safe lying in the thick arms and leaning against the muscular torso. The sound of a blender made him jump up. “Wh…what?”, he mumbled. “Ya want a shake too?”, Matt asked. “Where…where am I?”, Keith asked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Back in our room. Ya fell asleep in my arms. Put ya on the bed when we came in”, Matt replied, “Well, care for a shake?”. Keith watched his roommate’s arm bulge as the guy gulped down a double portion of protein shake straight from the blender. He nodded ‘yes’. Matt prepared shake for his roommate and chugged down another double one himself as he watched Keith drink. “Ya might want tot take a shower, man. Yar still wearing yar football gear from yesterday”, he said grinningly and pinched his nose shut. Keith looked down and only then the odor of dried sweat hit his nose. “You’re right, man. I stink”, he said and got up from the bed. He took two steps and his sight got blurry. “Easy, man”, Matt stated and closed the distance between them to grab his roommate’s arm to support him. “Here, let me help ya.” “What… are you doing, Matt?”, Keith asked as he felt his roommate pulling of his football gear. “Ya can’t shower with yar clothes on, man”, Matt replied and noted his roommate’s reddening face, “Don’t be shy. I’ve seen ya naked in the locker room.” Keith grinned and let his roommate help him out of his clothes. “Thanks, man. I’ve got it from here”, he said and walked into the bathroom. He had to grab the doorpost for some support. He somehow made it to the shower cabin. Then, a large shadow fell over him. He slowly turned around, closing his eyes shut for a moment tot stop his head from spinning, and stared at his roommate’s face. “Ya don’t feel okay. Do ya?, Keith?”, Matt asked as he placed his hand atop his roommate’s shoulder. “No, still weak”, Keith replied. “Thought so. Come on, I’ll help ya get cleaned up”, Matt said and pulled off his own clothes. “Get in the shower”, he said as he stripped off his bowers and saw his roommate still staring at him. “I…”, Keith began. “Come on, man. We’ve showered a hundred times together after practices and matches”, Matt interrupted him and made the smaller guy step into the shower cabin. Keith inhaled sharply as his buddy stepped inside the shower cabin with him. Standing this close to his roommate’s bulk made him feel a bit uneasy. Despite being 198 himself, he felt and looked like a child standing mere inches from the 283 pound jock. “What’s wrong?”, Matt asked as he saw Keith’s quizzical look. “If you get any bigger, you won’t fit into the shower any more. Your shoulders are almost against the glass”, Keith replied. “That would be nice”, Matt answered with a grin. “Let’s get ya cleaned up, stnky”, he said and turned on the water. Keith sighed as he felt the hot water rain down on him. He let his roommate soap him. He was surprised at the gentle touch of the huge man. He let his body being turned around so that his roommate could wash his back. “Would be nice”, he muttered. “What?”, Matt asked as he noticed the mumbling. “Thought it would be nice to see you get too big for the shower cabin. You would look awesome with more muscle”, Keith stated and let himself being turned around again. “More muscle”, Matt replied as the image of his own, even bigger body popped up in his mind. He noticed his roommate moving down. “Keith, ya okay?”, he asked a bit panicked. Before he could say anything else, he felt his roommate’s lips around the top of his cock. Inside Keith, the organism needed another feeding. It knew that the huge male’s seed was the best source to feed on. Seeing the organ between the guy’s lags starting to swell, it knew what had to be done. It grabbed full control of its hosts body and moved in. “Ughn”, Matt groaned. He placed his forearms against the tilled wall, positioned his forehead against his crossed wrists and closed his eyes. He felt the hot water cascade down atop his wide back and the hot wetness of his roommate’s mouth engulf his rock-hard 10.5 incher. Despite having fucked Gwen five times that night, his cock was ready to go again. The organism didn’t want to lose any time. Unlike last time when it had taking its time, it made its host suck with all his might onto the hard organ in his mouth. “UGHN”, Matt rumbled as his balls blasted out their first load into the eager mouth. His eight-pack contracted in a hard flex as more loads followed. The organism absorbed the energizing fluid at full speed. It had sensed the safeness and protection inside the huge male’s arms. It made its host’s right hand grab hold of the soft organ between his legs and stroke it to hardness. Within seconds, clouds of dust blasted from its hosts throbbing organ and began travelling upward as the cloud kept growing. Unaware of what was happening below him, Matt kept pumping out more loads of cum into his roommate’s mouth. The organism fell its host growing weaker and made him stroke out a fifth and final cloud of dust. As Matt’s cock blew its eight load, he felt the mouth around his 10.5 incher slide away. He looked down and saw his roommate slumping against the tilled wall. He bent down, inhaling the cloud of dust that now filled the shower cabin, scooped up his roommate and turned off the water. He toweled off both their bodies, put his buddy’s boxers on and gentle placed the guy atop his bed. He made his way back to the bathroom to putt on his own boxers as he felt a rush of energy flood his own body. It was as if his 283 pound body ached to get back to the gym despite his heavy session an hour earlier. “Grow some more”, he grinned to his reflection as he put on his gym gear and went out.
  4. 39 points
    Hello everyone. Thank you all so much for the feedback and support! Loved every comment! So glad people liked the first entry. I really enjoy stories about OP muscle gods, and I can't believe that people have actually liked one I've written myself! Can't wait to share more. This part is a bit of a slow burner. No godly feats of strength or power just yet. Also, would like to know what people think of it in terms of length. Hope everyone enjoys it. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Part 2: One month earlier. "Frank, I'm going to be blunt. We're downsizing". Avery looked both grim and solemn. A sure sign that he wasn't kidding. "We're...downsizing?! Does that mean..." I pointed a finger at myself, struggling to actually say it. "No! No, no ,no. Not at all! I can't lose my best market analyst" Avery said with a smile. "You're position with us is very much safe" he said. I lounged back into my chair, enjoying the wave of relief that washed over me. I let out a chuckle. "Well...thank goodness" I said, still shaking from the few seconds of intense panic. "But..." said Avery, adjusting his tie that needed no adjusting, "...we need to discuss the reality of a pay cut". My heart sank. My salary was unarguably impressive, but that didn't mean I could afford a cut. I had, in recent months, settled into a rather financially comfortable lifestyle. Big, spacious apartment; nice car; nice things. A cut of any size would mean the loss of something. I cursed myself for letting my streak of monetary good fortune get to my head! The suit I was wearing was tailor-made, and cost $1,000! What the fuck was I thinking?! "Ah, I see". I let my head hang. Maybe downsizing wouldn't be so bad. "I'm sorry Frank. But it's only going to be temporary, maybe a few months or so. And this will be the only cut you'll have to endure. If we need to cut further, we'll set our sights elsewhere" said Avery with a friendly, reassuring smile. I halfheartedly smiled back. It helped that Avery was a good looking man. Mid-50s, strong jaw, blue eyes, full head of luscious hair with a sexy sprinkling of gray here and there. The right amount of stubble, and an impressive build for someone of his age. Then again, with a salary like his, a personal trainer was inevitable. He often frequented my gay fantasies. After leaving his office, I ducked into the executive bathrooms for a quick wank. Partly out of the need to relieve some of the frustration, but also from having spent so long staring at Avery's chest, pretending like it wasn't gorgeous or turning me on. Later that night I found myself wandering aimlessly around my apartment. Three bedrooms and an en suite in each one. Plus I had one of those promenade style balconies. You know, it runs the full length of the apartment, accessible through the large kitchen and spacious living room. I had no self-control when it came to dealing with promotions and raises. What could I say? After meandering into one of the bedrooms I had the sudden thought: a roommate. Someone who could make up what I had just lost. I'd be able to keep what I had, even if it meant sharing with someone else. Admittedly, sharing isn't something I was strong at as a child. My tendency for climbing the ladder and succeeding at everything I put my mind to usually resulted in pushing others aside. But I didn't work my ass off just to lose even a portion of my successful life! And besides, if the roommate idea didn't pan out, then I could just try again until it did. I, of course, had no idea what was about to come my way and change my life forever. *** A few days had passed since I first put out the ad. It had been a mixed bag so far. At the moment I found myself moving back and forth between the stock broker and the junior surgeon; the two most eligible candidates. Although I was somewhat ashamed of why I was contemplating them. The surgeon had cash, and lots of. He also had a flabby belly bigger than mine, and not a single ounce of muscle anywhere. Why is this in anyway important? Well, it's because the broker was also an amateur bodybuilder. A quick look at his instagram had confirmed the existence of a rippling six pack. But financially speaking, we wasn't the best option. I laughed at myself. What was I thinking?! I'm so fucking horny I'm actually considering a financially unreliable stock broker only because he's got meaty pecs! Being single for this long does have that effect on you. I was about to cross the stock broker off the list when I suddenly felt a light but noticeable rumble. Earthquake? There aren't any earthquakes here. And it had been so small and fleeting. Someone on an upper floor had dropped something big? But how big of a thing could a person lift that, when dropped, caused my mahogany dining table to vibrate? There was a loud knock at the door. As soon as I opened it I found my self face-to-face with the largest pair of muscular pecs I had ever seen in person, covered by a thin lair of white fabric. My forehead was just about level with the lower half of these outstanding muscle mounds. I slowly looked upwards. His face. His beautiful, beautiful face. Image Avery's. Now times that by a billion. And remove the gray. "Hi" the adonis said, "Are you Frank? Is this the right place? I'd like to be your roommate". It took me a few seconds to remember that this was real life and not a dream. "What? Oh, yeah. Yes. I mean...yes, I mean yes. Hello. I'm...I'm Frank". There was no doubt in my mind that I had turned completely red. "Nice to meat you. I'm Tom" said the man. "Please, come in and...look" I managed to say. "Sorry I didn't call ahead " said Tom, his rippling back and muscle-bound legs being barley contained by his polo and jeans. This was the view I was enjoying as I followed him into the dining room. "But I only just saw the ad and decided to drop in. Bit bold, right?" he said as he turned to face me. Oh my god. Aside from his gravity-defying pec-shelf, I was only now beginning to realize his arms. His fucking arms! Even in their unflexed state they were still massive; steel-like veins crisscrossing about them. Over his biceps (complemented by equally stunning triceps) and into his forearms. Ending at hands that for some reason I thought were as beautiful as the rest of him. Never thought about hands like that before. "Not at all" I managed to say in a surprisingly articulate and understandable way. I was so sure my heart was failing from the sight of this muscle god. I needed to sit down. Not only were my legs becoming weak, but my cock was on the verge of giving my secret arousal away. "Sit, please" I said, gesturing towards the table. The perfect place to hide my growing, unstoppable erection. I sat at the head of the table, hoping that Tom might choose the opposite end, but of course he didn't. He sat at the next chair. Thankfully though my tenting pants was still out of sight. But with his arms resting on the table I now had to deal with his stunning biceps being literally right there! "If you don't mind", I began, "I'm just going to cut to the chase and ask what it is you do for a living". What happened next nearly made me cum. Tom chuckled the must adorable chuckle I had ever heard in my life, and in doing so, caused his pecs to jiggle. His powerful shoulder muscles also bunched a little too. Fuck me, I thought. "I'm not sure how to put it. I basically make money from letting guys touch me" said Tom. A silence filled the room. I was completely taken aback, yet Tom looked perfectly comfortable and content. "Excuse me" I said. My cock was so hard it was starting to hurt. "Other men pay me to allow them to worship my muscles" said Tom, still as content as ever. A little more silence. Was this real, I thought to myself? Am I actually sitting here with an actual muscle god telling me that he makes a living from being worshiped my muscle-loving men? More silence. "I mean...when you've got the goods" said Tom merrily, and he raised his arm and flexed. A bicep peak exploded into existence, making his already remarkable, sensual arms look beyond perfect. Without touching it, I new it was like steel. The skin that covered it was so smooth and free of any and all blemishes. Its vascularity was a work of art. I couldn't stop myself. I came in my pants, under the table. Thankfully Tom was too busy checking out his own arm to notice the split-second look on my face. Fuck fuck fuck, I thought. I tried to calm myself. Okay, just keep it together. He doesn't have to know. I could feel the moistness of my crotch. I tried to ignore it. "Wow", I said, "Incredible. Just incredible". Overkill? Oh shit! "Thanks", said Tom, still admiring his outstanding arm. Just as I was about to move the conversation on, Tom said what I had been both pining for and dreading. "Wanna touch it?". I couldn't stop myself. For some reason, every fiber in my being told me to reach for and grab the living fuck out of that arm. And that's exactly what it did. It felt like a bowling ball. Only harder, and smoother. I tentatively traced the tip of my index finger along the peak, running it along the cable-like vein. I started poking and pressing at the muscle. The peak, the sides, even the tricep. No matter where I pressed, I couldn't make a dent. I placed my full hand over the peak once again, marveling as it filled my whole palm, and my fingers draping the far side of it. Once again, their tips poked at the side of his muscle, and I still couldn't make a single dent. "Careful there buddy, or I'll have to start charging you!" said Tom, with a cheeky smile and a friendly laugh. I quickly pulled my hand away, embarrassed. I had gotten completely lost in feeling his arm. "Sorry!" I said, trying to regain composure. "Don't be! It's not bad, right?" said Tom, giving his arm one last massive flex. "It's amazing", I said. "Out of interest, how much would you have to charge me for, say, and hour?" I asked. "A thousand" said Tom. For about the tenth time in the last twenty minutes my mouth fell open. "A...thousand?!", I gasped. Tom laughed his hearty laugh. "Well when you look as good as me! Please excuse the vanity" he said, and started bouncing his pecs without warning. The two godly mounds bounced so effortlessly up and down. It was hypnotic. I came again. Still hidden by the table though. "You must have wealthy clients, and plenty of time on your hands" I said, trying to sound like I was totally comfortable. Tom nodded, and his pecs ceased their dancing. "Sometimes they pay me to spend whole weekends with them, so I might not be here from time to time. But don't worry, I will absolutely fulfill all rent duties" he said. This was a dream come true. "You're hired" I stupidly said. "I mean housed. Or roommated". I was dying a thousand deaths. Yet Tom wasn't phased even in the slightest. He just let out another pleasant laugh, and another beautiful smile. His face was beyond gorgeous. "Mind if I go pick a room?" he asked. "Of course" I said, jumping at the opportunity to sort out my wet crotch situation in a discreet manner. Tom stood up, and I almost cowered at the sight of his easily 6'8'' frame towering above me. Plus, the act of standing up caused his symmetrically perfect eight pack to press against his shirt, revealing themselves so clearly. He smiled down at me. "Pretty tall, right?" he said with a grin. All I could do was nod and remember to close my mouth. Tom walked off in the direction of the bedrooms. I watched him until he was out of sight. His physique made me cum one last time. I dashed as quickly and as quietly to my room, where I changes my pants, underwear, and socks at lightning speed. "I'll take this one" called Tom from the adjacent room. I did my belt and walked into Tom's newly claimed room. He was stand at one of the ceiling-to-floor windows, admiring the view of the city. His flawless, perfectly proportional body on display for the city to see. His pecs. His shoulders. His arms, and their biceps. His back. His abs. His ass. His legs, and the incredible calves that protruded from them. I would've given him all the money in the world to just take his clothes off there and then. He turned and smiled at me. His beautiful face. And then, in full view of him, I came once again.
  5. 37 points
    Part 3 (Thank you all so much for the feedback, I'm glad you're excited to see my work! Thank you for encouraging a first-timer so much!) I am awoken a little early; around 5:30, to Kyle doing pushups in the middle of our room, dressed in nothing but his jockstrap. Through the moonlight coming in through the still-open window, I see a glint of sweat in the crevice of his muscled back. I rummage around, so he knows I’m up. He looks over at me, quickly jumping up and turning around, so he’s at least, partially clothed. “Shit! Sorry man, I didn’t mean to wake you up. You slept so soundly through me playing games, I didn’t think that you would wake up. My bad!!” “No problem, Kyle, I was going to get up soon anyways. What’s 30 minutes?” “That’s the spirit!” Kyle says, more loudly than he really should be at 5:30 AM, “You wanna get ready and see if Shawn is up to go over early? I’m ready to set some records today! I thought I would be sore from my workout, but I honestly feel great! I mean, look at me. I feel like I even *look* better than I did yesterday!” Kyle leans forward and does a front flex, showing his abs, and some notable striations in his chest. He looks a lot leaner than he did yesterday, but maybe that’s just water weight lost from the night. I roll out of bed and start changing, getting ready for the gym although, unlike Kyle, I am sore from yesterday. I was thinking about just doing cardio and some light ab-work, but hopefully that protein powder gets me going just as much as it does Shawn and Kyle. I quickly slip on some shorts and a loose tank top, and slick back my hair. I hear Kyle groaning to my side, and I look over, seeing him having a tough time pulling up his shorts over his notable ass. “I know my clothes are tight,” he mumbles, “But I have never had this much of an issue putting on my shorts. They’re usually stretchy enough, but I am struggling…” With that, he leans backwards, pulling his shorts over his bulge, and then having just enough slack to pull it over his ass. They are so tight this morning, you can see everything. I mean everything. Peeking over the top of his shorts you can see the straining jockstrap, just barely covering the end of his happy trail. He pulls on a tank top, and it doesn’t quite come down to the jockstrap, leaving about a half of an inch of skin exposed. “Huh?” He says, “My clothes must have shrunk in the wash. I guess I just don’t understand the washers and dryers here.” “Have you even run a load yet? We’re two days in, Kyle!” I say. “Yeah… I forgot to do laundry before I left from home. This still looks okay, right? I don’t really want to bother changing, I am ready to go!” “I think so, I wouldn’t worry too much. You may want to try on that size up next time.” I reply. “Yeah yeah, they’re in that drawer over there. I’ll bear it in mind, I just don’t like how they fit. Let’s go!!” With that, Kyle opens the door, lightly jogging in place while he waits for me to walk over. When we step into the hallway, I see a bare torso, pulling a shirt on over his head. It looks good, albeit light, with pecs protruding forward, stretched by the reach, light blonde chest hair covering the area in between his pecs, and abs that are more than just “skinny abs”, they’re quite pronounced. Must be one of the bros who works out at the gym in the morning, I haven’t really met anybody else who lives on the floor. As he pulls his shirt down, I look at his face, and realize it’s not a stranger, it’s Shawn. “Shawn!” I gasp, “You look fantastic!” He shrugs, cheeks flushing red, “Haha… You’re just saying that. Thanks bro. I feel great today! I went to bed around 11, after visiting Izzy, and woke up at like 3, I felt totally rested. I just got back from a run outside!” “That’s so crazy man,” Kyle says, “I went to bed really late, like 1:30 or 2, after playing WoW with some friends, and I woke up around 5 feeling that same way! I hope it doesn’t catch up to me later in the day.” Shawn went for a run? At 3 in the morning? I can’t imagine anybody doing that, let alone him. I shake my head slightly, thoughts racing, and Shawn tosses me and Kyle two water bottles that he had set next to him in the hallway. “Drink up!” he says. We all pour our drinks back, getting that famous protein powder into our systems. It tastes surprisingly good! We quickly finish what was in the bottles, and take the stairs down and out of our dorm lobby. We start jogging over to the gym, but I can’t quite keep pace, my lungs and legs feel out of sync. I slow down to a walk, but Kyle and Shawn don’t slow down. “I’ll catch up!” I yell, “I think my shoelace is untied!” It’s not, but I needed some kind of excuse. I finally get to the gym, and head to the locker room to put my bag up. I see Shawn and Kyle over by the scale, in their boxer briefs and jockstrap respectively, checking their weights. “Damn! I guess this summer must’ve been better than I thought! It looks like I’m up to 160 pounds. I have never been able to break 155, no matter how much I ate.” Shawn says, ecstatic. “Yeah, who’d know working out can do that for ya!” Kyle jokes. “Get off, let me see where I’m at!” With that, Kyle steps on the scale. “150. That’s wild, just before I left I weighed myself at my home gym and I was only 143..” “Who knows,” Shawn says. “Maybe this scale is off. If it is, I don’t want to know. Let me revel in my 160-ness as much as possible!” Kyle laughs, agrees, and ushers me over to the scale. I step on the scale fully clothed, not feeling quite so confident as my friends. “184, just like always.” I say, disappointed to not have made as much progress as my friends. “But that’s fully clothed!” Kyle says, “Strip for us!” I take off my shirt, look left at my reflection, disappointed to not have the definition that either Kyle has begun to showcase, or my inherently skinny friend Shawn has been able to maintain. I pull my pants down too, left just in my briefs. I step up onto the scale, it reads 181. That’s crazy….. I just weighed myself on my mom’s scale 3 days ago after I took a shower, I was 185 then. “My weight must just be fluctuating. Let’s head out and workout!” I say, quickly trying to change the subject. Kyle and Shawn notice that I am feeling uncomfortable, and they don’t say anything as we walk back to our lockers to change back into our clothes. “Did you do something with your hair?” Shawn notes, as we walk over. “It looks different, curlier, maybe?” “No, nothing different, I just slicked it back this morning.” I look over at him, noticing that he is looking straight across at the top of my hair. Straight across? “Dude… Did you get taller over the summer?” “I don’t think so,” Shawn replies, “But I have never really been able to see your hair at this angle. I’m gonna double back and check my height.” With that, Shawn turns around and jogs over to the scale, pulling up the built-in measuring stick, lining it up with the top of his head. “DUDE!” He yells, “6’1 and a little bit! I must have hit a growth spurt this summer! That’s awesome, no one will ever be able to doubt that I am 6 feet tall. Ugh. This feels great!” My stomach drops out, feeling pangs of jealousy and being a little turned on, all at the same time. He calls us back over to make sure that he used the measuring stick right and, sure enough, he did. He asks us to measure ourselves too, which we both hesitantly do. I step up, and I’m 6 feet tall, right on the nose, just like I always am. I haven’t been so fortunate as Shawn, I don’t think there are any growth spurts in my future. I’m the exact same height as my dad, and his brothers are a few inches shorter than us. Straight outta luck, I think. Kyle steps up next. “Kyle, you are….. 5 foot, 7 inches, plus a little bit. Does that sound right?” Shawn reads. “No, that must be wrong, I’ve been 5’6 and a half since middle school. Check your readings!” We check and, lo and behold, Shawn had it right again. “Sweet! I guess I hit a growth spurt this summer too. I guess that explains why my clothes feel so small, I guess I really do need to bump up to the other clothes I ordered!” We walk back and change. I feel strange, somewhat sick to my stomach. I can’t believe they are both growing, and I haven’t changed a bit. Jealousy’s a bitch, and it feels like it’s going to ruin my workout. The three of us head back to the weight room, and they start to go at it like animals, immediately stepping up and warming up with some curls. “Didn’t you guys do arms yesterday?” I ask. “Yeah,” Kyle says, “I mean. Arms and everything else. I did a full body workout both times yesterday. I just wasn’t getting sore enough. Even though we were here for like… 2 hours last night, and I upped all of my former maxes by at least 5 pounds, I still wasn’t feeling like I really pushed myself. Hopefully I can get it before class!” “Same!” Shawn grunts, in between curls. “Well,” I say, “I do feel sore from yesterday, so I think I’m going to just do some work on the elliptical and maybe I’ll join y’all in a few.” With that, they both give me a thumbs up, and I walk away, hopping on one of the many free ellipticals. I put in my headphones, and crank up the resistance, and get going. I am not able to really get in the zone, each step feels more exhausting than the last. I look down after what feels like 20 minutes, and the timer reads “8:23”. I’ve only been doing this for 8 minutes? Damn. Today is just not my day. I hop over to the bikes, and casually spin on those for a little while, not really increasing the resistance. I try to increase it once, but it just makes me feel sick to my stomach, so I leave it on low and keep going. After 20 actual minutes on that, I look up from my phone and see that Shawn is using the bench press, with Kyle spotting. He’s benching what looks like 2 45s on each side, but that can’t be the case, he just started working out. I hop off the bike, and walk over to the two of them. “Finally, Connor, you’re joining us!” Kyle exclaims, “You won’t believe this, but after warming up Shawn has been able to bench 225. For reps!!” “What?!” I say. “I can’t even do that!” “7… 8!” Shawn says, under his breath, as he reracks the bench press. “That was my third set! That was about my limit, I think! What’s next, Kyle?” “I was thinking we could do some leg-work next?” Kyle suggests. I feel like that’s all Kyle ever wants to do. “Fine,” Shawn and I say in unison, as we watch Kyle run over with glee to the squat rack and start loading it up. He moves the pins down to about his height, and loads the bar with about 225, and easily cranks out a set of 12. He has me and Shawn load up 50 more pounds, pushing his squat to 275. Again, he easily completes a set of 12 reps. “Add more!” He says, “275 was the most I have ever squatted before, but that was easy as fuck.” With that, we add 10 pounds to both sides, pushing him up to 295. He immediately tells us to take those off, and add 45s to either side. “You want to add 90 pounds?” I ask, “That’s a lot to add to your max!” “Yeah, I feel great! Just do it!” Kyle urges. I reach down to pick up the 45 with one arm, but struggle to pull it off the mount. I grab it with both hands, but it feels like I am struggling against a magnet. My arms feel like jello, and I can’t even get a good grip on the weight. Shawn and Kyle watch me struggle with the weight, and Shawn walks over, grabs the weight from me, and loads it up. “You doing okay, Connor?” He asks. “Yeah, I just don’t feel very good today. I don’t think I got enough sleep.” I reply. “Your eyes do look terrible.” Shawn says, “I’m staying the night at Izzy’s place tonight, if you want to stay with James tonight.” “Maybe.” I reply, curtly, not really wanting the pity I am feeling from Shawn. “Can you guys shut up and spot me!” Kyle butts in, literally and figuratively, “This is the most I’ve ever squatted, so just make sure I don’t get crushed.” “Sure thing, bro.” Shawn says, as he sets up behind Kyle, ready to help him out if needs be. Kyle slowly lowers himself down, I can see the strain in his face as he does so, intentionally and with proper form. His ass almost touches the ground, and he pauses. I see him start to push upwards, but he’s not going far. Shawn starts to help Kyle, but Kyle grunts him away. He pushes and, slowly but surely, completes the rep. I think he is about to re-rack the weight, but he lowers himself down again, this time a little bit faster than the last, but not with any less precision. He barely pauses at the ground, bringing himself back up to his starting position with much less strain than before, and continues to do that 3 more times. “Damn, Kyle. You’re a beast.” I say, “I don’t think I could squat half that right now.” Kyle smiles, and checks himself out in the mirror. His ass looks humongous, straining his shorts to the very maximum, daring anyone who walks in not to look at it. “I think I can add a little more.” Kyle says, confidently, “I want to really break my maximum.” “Are you sure?” Kyle asks. “More than I have ever been.” Shawn says, a steely look of determination on his face. And with that, we add 50 more pounds to his squat, bringing his lift up to 415, a number I have only ever seen the biggest of gym-bros squat. Shawn and I both step up, ready to help Kyle, should he need it. He lifts the weight off the rack, and lowers himself down. At about halfway, I hear a straining noise, and look around, trying to find its origin. As Kyle bends down further, the noise gets louder and louder when, all of a sudden, a loud snap echoes through the weight room, and Kyle immediately ducks out from the squat, the weight crashing into the safety pins at the bottom of the rack. I look down, and see that Kyle has completely blown out the back of his shorts, his huge, bare ass sticking out of the back of his ruined pants. To be continued!
  6. 36 points
    Chapter 7 With Shawn and Kyle gone, at the gym once more, James and I sit there, never having been without Shawn this often. He has been overtaken with his gym obsession. "What the hell has gotten into them?" James asks, somewhat mad in a way I have never seen him, "I wanted to hang out with Shawn! I was excited to be roommates. But now he's ALWAYS fucking around at the gym. Can't he hang out in our room? Like once? And not just use it as a storage closet for all this freaking powder!!" James walks over and grabs the empty protein shake container the first batch was held within. This container was labeled, although James and I never really looked at it closely. "Can I see that?" I ask, interrupting James' rant. "Sure," James huffs, "I mean, it's empty, so I don't know why you'd want it. At least you can't shrink from this stuff anymore." I wince. "Sorry man... I wasn't thinking. I'm just pissed off. Go ahead." James tosses the container over to me. I rotate the label, noting that it has "EXPERIMENTAL" stamped several times across the wrapping of the container. The ingredients listing says "WIP", no luck there. As I read through the promotional imaging on the remainder of the package, I read some interesting details about this supplement. "Guaranteed to help you recover!" It says on the container. I look below at the fine print, where it claims that this powder can help you recover up to 100x more quickly than you would naturally. Wild. I take a picture of that quote, hoping it can be of use later. As I read through the rest of the label, I see a warning, "DO NOT TAKE MORE THAN 1 DOSE IN 12 HOURS, RESULTS ARE UNTESTED AND UNKNOWN". I gulp. Kyle's about to have three doses in about 3 hours. I'm sure he's already gulped down the new dosage, and there's nothing I can do about it. I take a picture of that too, and just move on. I try to put the bin back on top of the closet but, much like Kyle earlier, I can't reach. I ask James to come over, and he helps me put the empty container up. "I hate being this small. The world feels overwhelming." I confess to James. "I'll bet!" James says, "I haven't been that small since like.. Middle school. I have no idea what that would be like. Do you need me to like.... Go to your classes and get your stuff for you?" "Nah..." I say, "Not too many people know me, I will just get in and out and probably stay back at the dorms. Until I can figure all this out anyways." "Sweet man." James says, "Well, I actually have a little bit of homework to get done tonight, do you?" "Nah," I say, "I have missed a lot of classes already, maybe I do have something I should be working on, but I won't know about it for a few days. I think I will just hang out in m room while you work." "Ok bro. Let me know if you need anything, or even if you just need to talk some more." "I will." I get up from the bed I was sitting on, and walk to the door. I head back to my room, and watch some TV, trying to distract myself from everything going on. It's getting late, about 11:30, and I have an early class tomorrow. I was hoping I would be able to see Kyle and James when they got back, but they must be running out the clock at the gym. I sigh, and tuck myself into bed, wondering what fresh hell tomorrow will bring. I'm awoken once during the night, to the door slamming behind Kyle as he comes back into the room. I can't really make out his shadow in the dark, but he stays pretty quiet, obviously trying not to wake me up. He must have showered at the gym, because he heads straight to bed. My alarm wakes me up at 7. As I rub the grogginess out of my eyes, I hear Kyle's snoring. Weird, I had thought he would go to the gym this morning too. He's done it every day so far, so why expect anything else. I step out of bed, and look over at Kyle's bed. I first notice that he is buck naked, his back up to the sky and his sheets thrown to the ground. The next thing I notice is that his feet are hanging off the edge of the bed. Oh my god, Kyle looks humongous! This must be the side effect of too many doeses.. He's grown too big for his bed! I look first at the feet hanging off, they must be at least size 15, more than twice as big as the tiny shoes scattered around Kyle's bed. As I look up his body, I take note of his sinewy legs, bulging out like a baseball at his calves, and his quads rival tree-trunks, with individual muscles pronounced and standing out. Next is his ass. If he was proud of it before, he may as well not talk about anything else. It looks like someone took two classroom globes and stuck it under his skin. His ass is gigantic, and doesn't look like it would budge an inch, unless he wanted it to. His back is a map of muscles, almost too wide for his bed, pushing one huge arm to fall to the side. I start to walk over, wanting to get a true sense of just how big he has gotten. As I walk over, Kyle's eyes start to flutter open. "Hey," He growls, in a voice much deeper than I know him to have, "Why're you looking at me like that?" He reaches his arm up to scratch his face and, as he does so, he notices his massive arm. "OH MY GOD! I GREW! FUCK YES!" He leaps out of bed, causing the room to shake, and my pencil cup to fall over from my desk, spilling onto the ground. With Kyle standing up, he looks even more gigantic. He starts to flex, and feel himself all over, drinking in the changes, and paying no heed to the fact that he is buck naked in front of his very gay, very tiny, roommate. I look down. I have to. He might be sporting a little bit of morning wood, but even then, it looks intimidating. His dick comes midway down his thigh, he must be about 11 inches, if not a foot long, and thick. Like... Beercan thick. "Wow..." I let out. Kyle looks down, bringing his attention to his dick, which twitches with excitement, "Guess I grew everywhere! Good thing I'm a bottom, not sure who could take this." With that, he grabs at his dick, slapping it against his muscular thigh. I look up at his abs, which are set of 8, no... 10, rigid, deep bricks, which look like they could withstand any amount of force. He's gotten even hairier, his whole body covered in a thick coating of dark brown sexy fur which detracts from just how shredded he must be, but makes him look like a god of a man, dripping with virility. He starts to bounce his furry pecs, slowly at first, getting the feel of his new body, and then bouncing them together, enjoying the feeling of moving around so much heft at will. I realize that I am looking up at his pecs. I repeat, my eyes are below his nipples. "You're humongous." I gawk. "I'll say!" Kyle says, flexing his monumental biceps, all while laughing. "I must be at least a foot and a half taller than you! You look absolutely shrimpy! Is that how tall I used to be?!" With that, Kyle picks me up, pulling me to eye level. "You don't weight anything! What a rush!" Kyle shifts his grasp on me, releasing one hand and looking down. I look down. Way down, at his now fully erect penis. He must be at least a foot and a half erect, pre-cum oozing out. He sets me down, and starts jacking off, staring at himself in the mirror. I don't exist anymore, it's just him and his reflection. He gets lost in his own muscles, staring at a reflection of himself he probably never dreamed of having. I watch too, fully erect, not that he would ever notice. He would have to look so far down to see it. Plus, it barely makes a dent in my huge basketball shorts. He starts to moan, twisting a quarter sized nipple with one arm, and starts to cum, his ejaculate bursting out and hitting the ceiling, coming back down onto the carpet, pooling quickly. He cums for about 10 seconds, constantly moaning in his deep voice and pouring out his semen. He finally lets off and breathes. So do I. I start to come to my senses and realize that I too, came, although nowhere near as impressive, and what little I did come was soaked up by my shorts. "Fuck." Kyle moans. "That was amazing. Now... What am I going to wear today?" He looks at his closet and mine, noticing nothing will fit his gargantuan size. **To be continued!**
  7. 34 points
    Who Am I? Chapter One I slam the heavy bar on to the rack, causing the metal weights to make a loud clanging sound that fills the gym. I slowly sit up and flex and relax my pumped pecs. It’s at that moment I see the guy across the gym. He’s about thirty feet away but I can clearly see he’s staring at me. I slowly move my hands together, causing my pecs to erupt. I’m wearing an over-sized stinger tank top that leaves very little to the imagination. Even from this distance, I know he can see my immense size. He has his phone out, like he’s pretending to look at the screen but in realty, looking at me. As I hit the flex, his arm slowly lowers, no longer able to keep up the charade. I relax the flex, stand up, grab two more 45 pound plates and slam them onto one side of the bar. I do the same to the other side. With an incomprehensible amount of weight on the bar, I lay back down and with barely a grunt, hoist it off the rack. As the bar grazes my blood-engorged pecs, I effortlessly lift it back up to the top of the rep. I complete eight perfect reps before slamming the bar down and sitting up. I’m breathing heavy and my pecs are on fire. I return my gaze across the gym only to find my admirer hasn’t moved an inch. His eyes are visibly wide as he marvels at my size and strength. Without trying to disguise what I’m doing, I slowly transition into a most muscular pose while making eye contact with my admirer. I feel every muscle on my upper body swell to insane proportions. I feel the once loose fabric of my tank stretch tight over my sweat-soaked skin. My incredibly pumped pecs inflate and as they come in contact with my chin, I can’t help but let out a low moan. My arms shake as I flex even harder, willing myself to pump up even bigger, every muscle tingles from the effort. I reach the pinnacle of the flex and moan again as each muscle group comes in contact with the other as they compete for space. I can’t see my reflection but know just how freaky I look. It at this moment the poor guy can no longer control himself. His body starts to jerk uncontrollably and his knees visibly go weak. A second later, a wet spot is clearly visible on the front of his shorts and he grabs hold of a nearby bench to stop himself from falling over. I release the pose and flash the guy a smile as he sprints towards the locker room. I start to chuckle as I slam another 45 pound plate on each side of the bar and continue my gruelling chest workout. --- I wasn’t always like this. In fact, only a few years ago, I would have been the guy staring at the roided out muscle freak from across the gym, unable to look away. If you had told me I would become the massive freak I am today back then, I would have laughed in your face or recoiled in disgust. I joined my first gym when I was 22. At the time, I didn’t have a clue what I was doing. I stuck with it mainly because of the buff guys that frequented the gym, the bigger they became, the more I wanted to look like them. It took me six months to start seeing improvements. My once flat chest was now two hard, albeit small, mounds of pec meat. I had a thin vein running up my 13” bicep and if I flexed really hard, I could just make out a hint of tricep. I still remember how incredible it felt the day I reached 170lbs. It was around this time I met James. We met at the gym when he asked me to spot him. I remember thinking it was odd that he would ask me when there were countless other guys far more capable of helping him. He was about my size and build and we hit it off immediately. Soon we were regular workout partners and about a month later, James asked me out and I thought I had hit the jackpot, a cute guy that worked out. For the next six months we were inseparable, inside and outside the gym. Having a steady workout partner was amazing. Right away, I started to push myself harder during each workout and slowly my strength and weight started to increase. Two months after meeting James, I weighed 185lbs while remaining incredibly lean. I would find myself feeling my growing arms and running my hand over my hard, etched abs. James would joke that I was getting off on my own body. I would laugh it off but subconsciously, I was. With each pound I gained, I would secretly obsess about how much I desired more. In the beginning, I would only think these thoughts. I knew I was still tiny and skinny and it felt pathetic to admit my desires out loud. But that didn’t stop me from fantasying about it constantly. I started to follow physique models on social media, marvelling at their size and outrageous conditioning. That progressed to following classic competitors and eventually bodybuilders. I still remember the day I discovered some truly massive freaks. I stumbled upon the profile of a relatively well known bodybuilder, who’s name I cannot remember. My first instinct was to recoil in disgust but something made me scroll deeper down his feed. I felt my throat go dry as pictures of his bloated body moved past my eyes. I paused at a POW video of his pumped quads as he flexed and relaxed them. I audibly gagged as the thick veins erupted across his thin, paper-like skin. It wasn’t until I came across a picture of him shaking hands with a fan that my cock started to harden. I starred at that picture for a long time, trying to comprehend the comical difference in size. The bodybuilder dwarfed the other man in every way. Until that moment, I would have drooled over the other guy’s size but he suddenly looked puny by comparison. Something shifted in my head that day. I was consumed not just with muscle, but the biggest, freakiest muscular beasts on the planet. I followed their profiles, read articles about them and watched hours of videos. It became my whole world. I stopped watching porn and jerked off only to the most hardcore, roid-filled monsters. At the gym, I increased my intensity ten-fold. I started to push my body well past it’s limits. James was taken aback but supported my efforts. When he asked me what was happening, I would just reply that I wanted to look as good as possible for summer, while in my mind, I wanted only to grow. It wasn’t long until James could no longer keep up with me at the gym. We would start our workout together but he would quit after an hour while I continued for two to three more. It became a common site for James to witness me arriving home and collapsing at the front door, drenched in sweat and barely able to move. I think he tolerated it for as long as he did because my newfound dedication was paying off. I was adding more and more muscle and he was clearly turned on by my new size. I remember the day I reached 200lbs. I ran home from the gym and bust through the door yelling. “James! James!” “What?” “I hit 200lbs!” I screamed. James smiled and gave me a lustful look. “Wow, you are such a big stud.” I quickly lifted my tight t-shirt over my shoulders, pausing just long enough to relish the feeling of resistance my shoulders caused. The shirt had barely touched the floor before James was on me. His tiny hands caressed my rock-hard pecs and abs. I didn’t even have to flex to know he was amazed at how hard they felt. I placed my hands around his tight waist and without any effort, lifted him off the floor. I carried him to the bedroom, tossed him on the bed and whipped off my shorts. As my hands moved down my bulging thighs, I a moan as I flexed each quad, felling the growing muscles pulse under my hands. James licked his lips a the site of my pumped up body causing me to get even harder. I gripped his thin ankles and pulled him easily towards me. I slammed my hard cock into his ass with a level of aggression he wasn’t prepared for. “Ugh, not too rough!” he exclaimed. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and tried as a might, I could not look away. I was nowhere as big as I dreamed of being but I could not help but marvel at how muscular I was becoming. With my eyes fixated on my reflection, I started to ram my cock into Jame’s ass. He let out ecstatic moans with each thrust. The more I worked, the more swollen my body became. I looked down to see veins snaking up and down my pumped biceps. I looked back to the mirror and bent forward, placing my arms behind James’s back. With a grunt, I hoisted his 178lb body off the bed. He howled with delight as my cock slid further inside. I let out a primal roar as I watched my body swell to hold his body in mid air. Every muscle erupted and I started to maneuver James up and down my iron-hard cock. The sight in the mirror was the most incredible thing I had even seen. I could not believe I capable of doing what I was doing. I was lost in trance when James’ shouts brought me back to reality. “Fuck, STOP! You’re hurting me!” He screamed. I barely registered the fact that he was also pounding on my shoulders. I dropped him onto the bed and took a step back, breathing heavily. “What the FUCK Chad!” “James, are you ok?” I asked with worry in my voice. “Yeah I’m fine but what the FUCK was that Chad!” “I-I don’t know. I guess I got carried away.” I responded. “I’d say so.” James replied. I felt horrible for the rest of the day and apologized to James about a hundred times. After a day or two, he seemed to forget about the incident but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Every time I closed my eyes, I would see my reflection in the mirror. My bloated muscles easily manhandling James. The thick veins all over my body and the way my muscles flexed in unison. I would get hard within seconds and spend days covering my crotch whenever the memories flooded my mind. About a week later, I did my first real research on steroids. I had read about the side effects and dangers but I knew I needed them to continue to grow bigger. The more research I did, the more I wanted to take that plunge. It was at this time that I knew I had to share my desire to get huge with James. It was a few days later as we lay in bed after having harmless and admittedly timid sex that I decided to broach the subject. I was scrolling through Instagram and stopped on a picture of a famous physique model. He was considerable bigger than me but no where near big enough in my opinion. I turned my phone to James and saw his eyes go wide at the image. “He’s hot isn’t he?” I asked. “Yeah! Totally.” James said. “What would you think if I was that big?” “Uh. I don’t know. Would you really want to be that big? I mean, he’s hot but look at his chest, it looks like he has tits. And what’s with the veins? His arms are covered in them. Gross.” It was that one word, gross, that made my heart sink. Here James was, grossed out by a man I would barely consider buff. I was too distressed to talk any more. I mumbled something about being tired and rolled over and tried to fall asleep. I woke up in a bad mood the next day. I tried to hide it from James but he could sense something was bothering me and kept asking me to tell him what was wrong. I finally confided in him that I was upset at his reaction the night before. I told him how much I loved getting bigger. I told him how I wanted to be buff my whole life and now that I was finally on my way, he didn’t want me to keep going. “Chad, I don’t want to stop you from following your dreams. If you want to keep getting bigger, I won’t stop you. I’m sorry I reacted like that last night. The more I think about it, maybe it would be hot to be with a big stud like that. Just don’t get too big and veiny.” I tired really hard to not show my disappointment at his compromise and instead told James I was going to head to the gym. James came close and gave me a hug and kiss. “I love your big muscles Chad.” he said sweetly. I kissed him back and left for the gym feeling disappointed and confused. I realized that morning that James may never truly accept me for the person I wanted to become. By the time I finished a particularly gruelling workout, I felt better and decided not to over think it too much. Maybe James would come around I thought to myself. In my mind, I couldn’t imagine someone not liking their partner being a huge muscle bound stud. I was in good spirts on the way home thinking there was little doubt James wouldn’t get aroused if I got a lot bigger. A few days later I placed my first order of steroids. I remember my hand was shaking when I typed in my credit card number into the website. I couldn’t sleep that night thinking about what would happen to my body on roids. After tossing and tuning for hours, I got out of bed. My cock had been semi-hard for hours so I decided to watch some “porn” and jerk off. I loaded a favourite video. As the over 300lb freak of nature curled weights most men could not squat, I could feel myself about to orgasm. Just as the freak on screen dropped the weights and lifted his gargantuan arms into a brutal double bicep pose, I sprayed a huge load of cum all over my abs and chest. I must have been louder than I thought because I jumped foot in the air when James appeared behind me. “Chad! What the FUCK are you doing?” He yelled. “Sorry, I couldn’t sleep and thought jerking off would help.” “I get that, I mean, what the fuck were you watching!” I quickly slammed my laptop closed and stood to face James. His eyes wide and a look of disgust on his face. “I-I-I” “So that’s what gets you hard? Watching disgusting meat heads? Who the fuck was that? He looks so fucking gross!” I didn’t know how to respond. “Well? Is that what gets you off, roided, grotesque freaks?!” Something snapped. “Yes!!!” James just stood in shock. “I’m sorry James but it’s true. Nothing gets be harder than muscle. HUGE, FREAKY muscle. It’s all I think about! There is no such thing as too big. Nothing hotter than thick, garden hose sized veins covering every inch of the most outrageously pumped up and freakishly huge bodies. And it’s not only that James. I want, no, I NEED, to be just as big. I want to be be so fucking jacked, I can barely move! I want to be so ripped, it looks like I don’t even have skin. I want to be a MONSTER!.” I was screaming at the top of my lungs. My heart was beating out of my chest and my cock was already hard again. James recoiled in disgust, placing his hand over this mouth. I knew I had gone too far but I couldn’t stop. “I ordered steroids today James. Yeah that’s right, I’m going to become a roided, grotesque freak! And you know what? I can’t fucking wait. You think that video was gross? Fuck, I’m going to make that guy look puny! I’m going to fill myself with every chemical I can find and pump so much weight, I will literally explode with muscle. I know you think it’s gross and honestly, I love that you do. I want to be a freak. I want to be disgusting. I want to be so fucking massive, the ground rumbles when I walk and people can’t stand to look at me without puking.” James couldn’t take anymore. He practically tripped over his feet as he hurried down down the hall towards the bedroom. Minutes later, he pushed me aside as he darted towards the front door with a bag of his clothes. He stopped just long enough to look at me through his tears. “Chad, I hope you realize how lucky you were to have me because when you turn into a freak, NO ONE will want you!” he yelled as he slammed the door.
  8. 34 points
    Hi guys. Thanks again for all the likes and support. Best motivation ever! Enjoy the next chapter; some strength feats and superpowers coming your way . _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Part 3: The following morning. My first thought, and fear, was that it had all been a dream. That the most exquisite muscle man that ever walked the face of the Earth hadn't just become my roommate. But as soon as I heard the most beautiful and melodic singing ever, I sighed with relief. I lied there, still and silent. I listened to Tom serenade the morning from the kitchen, with humming that was simply too gorgeous. Of course he's got the perfect singing voice I thought with a smile. Perfect body, perfect face, perfect voice. Was he even human?! I continued to lie in bed, way too embarrassed to get up and greet him. I had basically ejaculated in my pants right in front of him just yesterday. He wasn't the least bit bothered by it (in fact, he thanked me for the compliment) but I was beyond mortified! I spent the rest of that evening avoiding him out of sheer embarrassment. It was easier said than done, since he wanted to socialize more. And I'm pretty sure he wanted to show off some more muscle. Less than twenty-four hours of living here and Tom already forced me through three changes of underwear in one night. Yet I wasn't regretting a thing. The more I listened to Tom's angelic performance, the more I began to realize the strangeness of the situation. I basically invited a total stranger to live with me without knowing that much about him. Despite all the other applicants, I agreed to Tom way too quickly. All the guy did was show up, tell me what he did for a living, and then put on a flexing show for me. Oh the flexing. I closed my eyes and drifted back to the memories of his pristine biceps and how they'd put even the most accomplished of bodybuilders to shame. And the erotic bouncing of his cannonball pecs. I was erect, and overwhelmed with the urge to starting beating off to the thought of Tom and his body. Or I thought, I could just go out to the kitchen and see the live performance. I mean, the guy basically lets other men touch him for a living, and he wasn't in any way bashful with me yesterday. I smiled at my own devilish cheek. Putting on some pajama bottoms and a plain, white t-shirt, I got up and made my to the kitchen. I paused for a second, just to prepare myself for whatever vision of masculine perfection awaited me there. And boy was I right to do that! There he was. White tank top, and black briefs. Neither doing a very good job at containing anything. With a body the looked like it was carved from marble, every individual muscle on Tom's body flexed, bounced, and rippled as he moved about the kitchen. His boulder shoulders and traps alone commanded respect. His concrete slabs, also know as his pecs, looked as though they threatened to burst forth through his top. Also, I was only now noticing the light dusting of hair that covered them. As if Tom could be any more of a man's man. After ogling the eight pack abs that could been seen so clearly through the fabric, I found my gaze being drawn towards his legs. Think, vein-covered quads and diamond shaped calves, all tapering towards some really, really lovely feet. Bow down and kiss his feet said a voice in my head. Where on Earth did that come from?! I quickly composed myself, and pushed such thoughts out of my head. "Morning" I said, in the best chirpy tone I could muster. "Well hello new roommate!" he said, flashing me that perfect smile of his. Even his fucking teeth were perfect. He placed a plate of pancakes on the counter-top, and beckoned me to sit down. "Thanks. What a lovely surprise" I said as I sat. "Least I could do. After all, you've welcomed me into your home" said Tom. I couldn't help but lose focus for a second when I noticed how his abs and pecs pushed against his top as he breathed. Once I started to feel my cock harden, I quickly made my move. "Listen, Tom. About yesterday. I'm really sorry about...you know. What happened when we were in your room" I started blushing. "Nothing to feel embarrassed about" said Tom with a warm and friendly smile. "I'll have you know that I've spent my whole career perfecting the art of arousing men. Making them cum is so easy for me now. If anything, I should be apologizing to you! I didn't mean to do it to you". It took a minute for what Tom just said to register with me. He was so open. "Oh, well...don't worry about it?" I said, unsure of what to say. Tom laughed his usual jovial laugh, and I stared in awe as it made his lightly haired pecs bounce up and down. Once again, I was glad to have something blocking my erection from view. "Relax Frank! I know you like muscle, and I've got plenty of it! If you like what you see, then don't be afraid to let it show" Tom said. "Really?" I said. "Really" said Tom, his friendly smile warming me. "Well, I suppose if it's okay with you..." I said, and I reached forward, over the counter-top, and start feeling his pecs. The were harder than granite. I let out a whistle. "They are impressive" I said, giving Tom one of my own cheeky smiles. "Common opinion" he said, giving them a quick bounce. I continued to eat my pancakes with one hand, while I fondled Tom's meaty chest with the other. Once I finished the pancakes, I started running my hands up and down his arms. "God they're huge" I said as I traced lines over his biceps and forearms. "You've obviously got one hell of a workout regiment" I said. "Kind of" said Tom; a rather cryptic response. He started flexing his arms in a most-muscular kind of way, turning them from rock-hard to steel-hard. "So how strong are you?" I asked, as I casually poked at his abs. They felt more like cobblestones than a human body. Tom looked up from admiring his own body, to giving me one of his most playful smile yet. I suddenly knew that something noteworthy was going to happen. Tom walked around the counter-top to my side, and stood directly in front of me and my bar-stool. He reached one arm down (emphasis on the ONE arm), took hold of one of the stool's legs, and with the utmost of ease, lifted the whole thing up off of the ground with me in it! "Holy shit!" I proclaimed. I was so busy looking down a my dangling bare feet, or at Tom's fully flexed arm, that I hand't yet noticed his face. He was totally relaxed. All he did was look at me with a gentle smile. It was like my whole weight and that of the stool didn't exist. "Does this answer the question?" he said, grinning his sexy grin. There was no hiding my erection now. After all, it was now level with his chest. I bet he could fit my whole cock between his pecs and jerk me off just by bouncing them. "This is fucking amazing!" I said, "I've never known someone to be this strong!". I reached forward to put one of my hands on one of his traps for balance. My hand barely covered the whole thing. After a few more seconds he carefully placed me back one the ground. He showed no signs of fatigue whatsoever. "Was that even difficult for you?" I asked, breathing heavily from arousal and exhilaration. "Nope. Easy as pie" he said. I don't know what came over me next, but before I knew it I had said it. "You said making men cum is easy for you, right?" I said, looking up at him as he towered over me. He new exactly what I wanted. He gave me a double-biceps pose that could only be described as exquisite. His lats flared, his quads solidified, his calves expanded to maximum flex, and his biceps unleashed peaks that would make even Arnold flush with jealousy. I came. The wet patch easily noticeable on my light-blue pajama bottoms. Tom laughed a merry laugh, and patted me gently on the head. I smiled weakly from orgasmic bliss, and breathed more heavily. "Thanks" I managed to gasp, "I guess this is my life now". "Sure is buddy. And don't be so coy around me. I'm a muscle god, and your into it. I say enjoy yourself" said Tom, who had started cleaning up the kitchen as if what just happened was totally normal. With my arousal subsiding, clarity of mind was beginning to return to me. "Hey Tom" I said, "I don't remember you bringing a suitcase or bad of clothes or anything with you when you arrived here yesterday". Tom looked over his shoulder at me. "No, I did. You just probably don't remember. You were too busy getting acquainted with this guy" he said, flexing the arm I had worshiped yesterday and laughing. "How did you get to my apartment? You have to buzz in at reception. And this building affords really good security" I said. I don't know why I was suddenly being to inquisitive, but without the distraction of sexual desire I was slowly beginning to realize that some things weren't adding up. "Guess they took one look at me and thought 'we'd better let him trough'" he said with a chuckle. "I mean, unless you want to pick a fight with this" he said, and lifted up the bottom of his top, exposing his flawless eight pack. He first flexed it as tightly as he could, and then started rolling it so effortlessly, making it do waves from top to bottom. "Ah, fuck" I said, as more cum was released into my pants. His abs blindsided me, and even though I had been mostly flaccid, he manged to invoke full ejaculation. "Oops, sorry about that" said Tom. "You weren't kidding about perfecting your ability to arouse men" I said, adjusting my increasingly moist and uncomfortable pants. "So why this interrogation all of a sudden?" Tom asked. "Sorry...forget about it" I said. He looked upon me with kind eyes and a friendly expression. "Well, I mean I guess I didn't really get to know you all that well yesterday, and I was distracted and..." I trailed off. I was getting lost in his bodily and facial beauty. He had started bouncing his pecs again, laughing at the effect they had on me. Suddenly, a memory came back to me. "Tom...just before you arrived yesterday there was a bang or something. Something happened that caused the building to vibrate. Or at least I felt something. Did you feel it?" I asked. Suddenly, Tom's whole demeanor changed. Gone was his casual pleasantness and cheeky aloofness, and instead replaced with the kind of look someone has when they've been caught out in a wrongdoing. He was silent for a moment. "Go change Frank. Put on some clothes. I'm...going to show you something" he said. His voice was still kind, but had a more serious edge to it now. Without hesitation, I found myself doing exactly what he asked me to do. I hurried to my bedroom and started to dress myself. What was he going to show me? Why was he suddenly so serious? Did I say something wrong? Had I offended him? I hurried back to him. He was still wearing his tank top, but now had jeans and heavy looking hiking boots on. "Lets go to the balcony" he said, and without question I followed him there. We stood side-by-side looking out at the surrounding city landscape. All around us people were slowly waking up and enjoying breakfast. But how many of them had the luxury of being served by a muscle god, and being allowed to feel him up? Not to mention being manhandled to easily and sexily. Man I was a lucky bastard. So then, what was all this about? I turned to look up at Tom' beautiful face. I gently placed one of my hands on his bicep. "Tom?" I said. He looked down at me and smiled. "Frank, I want you to know that I will never hurt you. You are safe with me. Safer than you'd ever be anywhere else" he said. Why was he telling me this? Without warning, his powerful arms hoisted me off of the ground and he held me against his muscular chest. "Tom!" I said, laughing and enjoying the feel of being so small compared to him. We looked at each other in the eyes as my fingertips lightly traced lines across the top of his pecs. "What is this? What are we doing out here?" I said, excited at the thought of a kiss. "This" said Tom. It wasn't a kiss. The balcony was still below us, but it was growing more and more distant. I could feel air breeze past me in a downward direction. All around me tall skyscrapers that I initially had to look up at to see their uppermost floors were becoming...shorter? No...my elevation was increasing. Tom kept his kind eyes focused solely on me. His titanium arms holding me close. He was flying.
  9. 34 points
    **Note: Not a lot of growth in this chapter, but setting it up for the future!** Part 6: Now, left alone in my room, I just sit there, thinking about everything that has been going on since I came back to school. Not only have I actually started coming out to people, I had sex. And not just sex, but sex with my best friend. My best friend who was ostensibly straight. I mean, he was obsessed with Izzy as far as I was concerned. I hope that he will be able to stay clear with Izzy or, at the very least, stay amiable with her. She’s the reason he’s gotten so huge already, without her he would never have gotten his hands on that protein. That protein…. I pick up the bag that Kyle grabbed for me, and sift it through my hands, holding it up to the light. It’s just your everyday, normal protein powder, to the naked eye, but there’s obviously so much to it. I worry about it’s effects on me.. I hope I don’t shrink any further, how the fuck am I even going to get dressed at my current size. 5’6…. I guess I can wear Kyle’s clothes for the time being. I look at his closet, filled with rainbow colors, mesh, and short clothing, when able. If I wasn’t out before now, I will have to be out. Kyle’s clothes screams that of an out gay man. I walk over to his closet, and pick out an outfit that will work for this evening, I suppose, a XS salmon colored polo, along with some small khaki shorts. I feel a little better after getting dressed in clothes that fit, I feel more normal, even if I am far from normal. I walk over to my computer, pulling up the syllabus for my chemistry lab. I check the office hours for professor Barnes and, luckily, it looks like he’s free tomorrow. I book time with him via email, asking if we can talk about a specific chemical compound that I want to learn about. Technically the truth, and a good way to open the door to a professor. I may be small, but I still want to keep my 4.0 in college. If I’m anything, I’m a good student, and I will stick with it. After sending the email, I realize that I’m pretty hungry. I text James to see if he’s free and, surprise, he doesn’t text back. I guess I’ll just head down to the cafeteria by myself. I head out from my room, and take the elevator down. As I take the steps down and out of my dorm, I see Kyle leaving the cafeteria, sprinting to the gym. Damn, he’s excited. I don’t blame him, if I’d seen those results in 2 days, I would be sleeping in the weight room. I get to the cafeteria, swipe in, and head over to my regular table, in the corner. Seated there, with his head rested against the table, arms sprawled out, was James, snoozing away. “HEY!” I say, waking him up from his slumber. “Huh…” James slowly opens his eyes, and looks up.”Kyle…. Wait… Colton? What happened to you?!” He opens his eyes more fully, aware of the world around him. “You look like Kyle! Are those his clothes?” “Yeah,” I bashfully scratch my head, “That protein powder had a…. Negative effect on me.” “I would say!” James exclaims, “Are you feeling okay?” “I mean, I am now. I think it only was affecting me for like.. 12 hours. I feel normal now. I think.” James stands up, his lanky body looking like a skeleton as he stretches out. “Bro! You only come up to my chin! I could rest my head on you if I needed to!” “But don’t.” I say, sternly. “Want to walk with me to find some food? You’re welcome to… So long as you don’t rest your head on me.” “Yeah yeah sounds good Colton.” He says, eyeing the top of my head, almost sleepily. “They’ve got a pretty good chicken dish.” We walk over, and I see some chicken enchiladas with rice. Sweet! That’s one of the better meals in the cafeteria. I grab a plate, and we walk back to the table. James didn’t grab anything, but I know that he obviously has nothing to do tonight, he was asleep in here. “Want to play some games today?” I ask, while I start picking away at the enchilada. “That sounds great,” James says. “Also, have you seen Shawn today? He looks HUMONGOUS! He’s grown like… 3 inches. Since we got back to school. How is that possible?” “I dunno.” I shrug. “How is it possible that I’ve shrunk 6?” “That’s true… This protein is insane. It’s like… Poison. Or an elixir. I guess it depends on who you are.” “Or if you’ve played an RPG lately.” I jab. “That’s true too!” James nods, not ever one to take a joke as criticism. I get about 2/3rds of the way through my food, unable to finish a meal I usually tear through. I guess my new tiny body doesn’t need as much to keep it going. “You ready to go?” I ask James. “Yeah, let’s head back.” James and I walk back to the dorms, I’m having to walk a lot faster than I am used to, my short legs unable to keep pace with James. His stride is much longer than mine now. This is wild.. It’s going to take me a while to get used to. Hopefully we can figure this out and I can get back to my regular height. We decide on a classic, COD Zombies, and start playing together. My reaction times aren’t as good as usual, due in part to the controller feeling so alien to my hands, unable to reach the triggers with my pointer finger and middle finger like I usually am, so we don’t have a lot of success. After about 3 attempts, not even getting close to our usual record, we decide to call it quits for the night. We get to talking, and I end up telling James about Shawn and I, that we had sex, that I don’t really know what’s going on, and how worried I am. “Whew!” James says, after I finish sharing, “That’s a lot! How do you think his conversation with izzy is going tonight?” “I have no idea,” I say, “I tried texting him while we were eating, but he hasn’t even seen my message yet.” “This is stressful,” James says, yawning. “I feel like you just telling me about that wiped me out. Is it not even bedtime yet?” I look at the clock, it’s only 8 PM, James just has… Limited emotional energy, tied very closely to his physical energy. “Maybe we can play a little bit more of something else. Rocket League? Castle Crashers?” “I guess, that could be a good distraction to everything.” Right as we are about to set up for a few rounds of Rocket League online, Shawn comes into the dorm room, arms full with two huge moving bins. “Shawn!” James and I say, in unison and surprise. Running over to help him with the bins, which he is able to clearly handle on his own, setting them down in the closet. “Did you have a few things to still bring in?” James asks. “Nah!” Shawn says, grinning, “Izzy gave me something.” “Izzy…” I say. “Yeah,” Shawn says, “We had to have a kinda serious conversation about *us* tonight. She was surprising to me, she was the one who initiated it. She says that she loves the size I’ve been putting on, but I’m just too big for her and… She just can’t handle me. At least, that’s what she said.” “Wait,” James pauses, “You and Izzy broke up?! And she gave you stuff?! You were obsessed with her! Are you okay?” “Yeah…” Shawn looks down momentarily, “I was, and we have had a good time together. But I’m honestly not too broken up about it. She still wants to be friends. Plus… I am kinda interested in someone else right now. We’ll see where that goes.” He looks over at me, and winks. BUTTERFLIES. I know I shouldn’t be excited about this, but he doesn’t seem too broken up about Izzy, so I guess I won’t either. “Well,” I say, not wanting to talk about Shawn and I with James around, “What did Izzy give you?” “That’s what I’m really excited about,” Shawn says, “Take a look.” He opens one of the bins, which is filled to the brim with protein powder. “She says that her dad’s company discontinued this product, and they just had a ton left over, so she wanted me to have it! She says she wants me to get as big as possible. I mean, who doesn’t want something to look at!” “This is so much Shawn.” I gasp, “You’ll never get through this!” “Nah,” Shawn says. “But when I get to where I want to be, I’ll give it to somebody else. Pass it on, yknow?” “How big do you want to be?” I ask. “Not sure yet…” Shawn says, “But definitely bigger than I am now! I’ll know when I get closer. I think.” My pants start tenting, thinking about just how huge Shawn might get in the upcoming weeks. He is already huge…. “Speaking of the protein powder, where’s Kyle?” “I think he’s at the gym right now.” James says. “Sweet! I think I’ll go join him!” Shawn says, excited at the prospect of denting his huge supply of protein powder. “I think he went around 6 though…” I say, “Not sure if he will be there a lot longer.” “I’m sure he will be! It’s open till midnight!” Shawn quickly pulls himself together a protein shake, pouring the remaining powder he received in the first batch from Izzy. He also makes a shake for Kyle too. “I think Kyle will probably want a refill.” “I don’t know,” I say, “Kyle had a lot earlier.” “Psh,” Shawn says. “What’s he going to do? Get bigger?” Shawn laughs, and bolts out the door. That’s what I’m worried about...
  10. 33 points
    **Author Note - I have seen a lot of complaints about my story. This does have aspects of humiliation, which I have tagged within. There is also some shrinking that occurs, for role-reversal, which I have now tagged within. If that is not your cup of tea, please do not continue. If it is, I hope you enjoy, and give me some feedback about my writing, the characters, what you want, etc. However, it is ultimately my story, and if you dislike where it is headed or has gone, please do not shit on me or my process. Thank you!!** “5’8?!” I gasp, taken aback. “I mean, that’s what it looks like...” Shawn says. “That would make sense, I mean you’re basically eye level with my Adam’s apple....” I turn around to face Shawn. He’s right. I’m standing so close to him, I have to crane my neck to make eye contact with him, as he looks down on me. I feel myself start to panic, breathing heavily and starting to sweat. How can this be? I’m 4 inches shorter than I was THIS MORNING? No wonder my shorts felt so baggy when I put them on to go to the bathroom. I look down at my basketball shorts, which now come down past my knees. I look like I’m wearing my older brother’s clothes. If I had an older brother. Damn! I’m the same height I was in middle school! Tears start to well up in my eyes, and I try to run for the door. Shawn grabs my arm, his huge hand easily encompassing my now-smaller bicep, and then some. “Wait,” he says. “We need to figure this out. I mean, you’re so tiny compared to me, and that’s only as of like... today. I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever even had muscles before a few months ago, and now my biceps are bigger than yours!” He flexes with his free hand, his peaks rising. “Flex yours, Colton. I just want to see.” “No way!” I say, crossing my arms trying to cover my small body. “Please!” Shawn almost begs, I hear his voice almost quiver. “Fine,” and with that I flex my right arm, to match Shawn’s. He bends down to match his arm to mine. His arms have easily two to three inches on me. “Oh man!” He says, almost yelling. “This is incredible. I mean, for me. I’ve never thought I could be this big. Or look this good...” With that, he rubs his free hand along his ever-solidifying body, feeling the new hair sprouting up along his torso. As his hand goes down further, I realize that his towel has fallen off, leaving him in full nude glory. His penis is at full attention, sticking straight out from his lean pelvis. His hand stops short of touching his dick, and he snaps to attention. “Oh shit... sorry Colton. Let me get decent..” With that, he bends down to pick up his towel but, as he does so, his dick rubs against my bare torso. I let out an involuntary breath, feeling myself tent up. “Dude,” Shawn mutters, “Are you hard right now?” I look up, and see that he’s looking at my slightly tighter shorts. “This is making me really horny too.” Shawn reaches down, and grabs my dick over my shorts, and rubs it up and down. “What are you doing?” I breathe, barely able to mutter the words, already leaking precum into my shorts. “I just thought we could help each other out,” Shawn says, leaving his towel on the floor and undoing the drawstring on my shorts, leaving us both naked. He bends down and kisses me, a five o clock shadow scratching my face as he comes in. My first kiss. It’s beautiful, it’s tender, it’s sexy. It’s with the man of my dreams. I really must be dreaming. I thought it was a nightmare... but maybe it’s not. Fuck it. I’ll go with it. I lean into the kiss, fiercely accepting my friends tongue as our bodies intertwine. Shawn scoops me up with one arm, hoisting the two of us, while still kissing, onto his bed. My hands can’t stop tracing his bulging pecs, grabbing onto his arms, barely even making a dent. I crawl down him, slowly moving my mouth down every inch of my body, following his happy trail, until I reach his gorgeous penis. It’s big, but I go for it, slowly taking it into my mouth, giving a blowjob my best friend. I take it all in, working my way down to the base, slowly going in and out, feeling the rhythm of his body and mine together. He groans in pleasure, and we start going faster and faster until, finally, we come at the same time, myself splattering just a little onto his bed, while he fills my mouth with what feels like a water bottle full of cum, salty but incredible. I swallow it all. We sit in silence for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes, me looking up and past his pecs, into his gorgeous blue eyes. “Wow.” I say, breaking the silence. “Yeah....” Shawn says, looking at the clock. “Shit! I gotta get to class. My parents told me if I miss any classes this semester they won’t pay another cent...” Shawn hastily gets up, pulls on a pair of jeans, which, unlike any other pair of pants I have ever seen him wear, hug his every curve. He pulls them up to his ass, which he has an incredibly difficult time pulling over, even without underwear. The pants come up at least an inch above his ankles, but he doesn’t have time to consider anything else. Shawn throws on a tee shirt from the floor, grabs his backpack and as he leaves the door, he looks back at me, somberly, “we’ll talk later.” And closes the door quickly. I lay in his bed for a moment, smelling that unmistakably Shawn scent invading his sheets and pillow, feeling turned on yet again. That was amazing. Thoughts start to creep in. Did I just help my best friend cheat on his girlfriend? With me? What are we talking about later? Have I fucked over my college experience, only a year and a few days in? Can I transfer? A queasy feeling returns to my stomach. It growls, with nothing but Shawn’s hyper masculine cum inside. I feel sick, just like I did this morning. I have to get back to my room. I get out of bed, pulling my shorts up and tying them tightly around my waist. I get back to my room, untie the shorts, and fall into my bed. Another dreamless slumber overtakes me, and I wake up. I feel like a whole new man. I feel like my old self. Was everything that happened today just a dream? My desk clock reads 5:00 PM, so... maybe it wasn’t a dream. Holy shit. That wasn’t a dream. I scramble out of bed, looking down at myself, and at my surroundings. Fuckfuckfuck. I am still smaller. Everything looks a little higher than it should be. The desk, which used to be about waist height, is about at my belly button. Oh my god. I look at myself in the mirror. I look tiny. I’ve even lost some weight. No longer are my fat covered muscles there, in their place are thinner arms than I’ve had since high school, and a chest and stomach that, while trim, show no trace of having been to the gym. It’s horrifying, but at least I see myself clearly. The doorknob starts to be unlocked, and I realize Kyle must be coming in. I scramble back into bed, tucking myself into the covers, and covering up my small body. Small plus-side to this, these campus mattresses feel much bigger to my diminished self. Kyle comes storming in, seeing me scrolling through my phone on my bed. “What’s up bud? Feeling any better than this morning? Have you been in bed all day?” “Pretty much, yeah.” I say, omitting my slight break from my bed to be in Kyle’s. “But I feel a lot better, thanks for asking. What about you?” “Okay,” Kyle says. “It was a long day, classes are just so dull. The worst part about college, if I’m being honest. I am trying to get myself out there and meet some of my classmates, make some new friends here, but I honestly just couldn’t wait to get back to the gym tonight.” “You and Shawn are really going at it!” I say. “Yeah, but I ran into Shawn earlier, he looked concerned. He told me he can’t make it to the gym tonight, that he had to talk with Izzy about something.” I gulp. I worry about what that conversation might entail of... “But you’re still going tonight? That’s dedication!” I recover. “Yeah! And Shawn said I could swing into his room and grab a shake. Honestly, I can’t tell if I’m more excited for the shake or the gym. The protein just make me feel INCREDIBLE.” That damn protein powder.... It’s working so well for Shawn and Kyle, but it just made me feel sick to my stomach. I think it’s probably the cause of my recent loss of height as well, but talking about that just feels so weird. I watch as Kyle strips off his clothes from the day, revealing his beefy bod, stopping at his briefs, which look filled to the brim. He’s been growing a lot too. Maybe not to the level Shawn has, but i could swear that Kyle looks taller and much more buff. I can tell he’s lost a lot of fat, his abs are clearly visible, even when bending over, and through his ever-thickening layer of body hair too. He’s a cub, if a cub had no extra body fat, and more muscles than a JV football player. He walks over to his closet, reaching up to grab a bin from the top shelf. He stands all the way on his toes, his calves exploding out from the back of his legs. He can’t quite reach the bin, he’s about an inch or two off. “Hey man, would you mind helping me grab this down? My dad put this up here while we were moving in, it has all my extra clothes in it, which I didn’t think I would need. After the gym this morning though... I could use the step up. Literally. Cmon! Help me out!” “Nah...” I say, “I’m actually not feeling well enough to get out of bed. Maybe James is free and could help you out?” “Cmon man, quit fucking with me.” Kyle says, walking toward me, “You just said you were feeling a lot better! Just help me out real fast.” “Um, no thanks!” I say, panic creeping into my voice. “Why don’t you just use a chair!” “I dunno... why don’t you just help me out!” Kyle says, as he jumps the remaining distance between us, yanking my sheets off from me. “Oh my god! You’re small! Like... Really small. It looks like you even lost weight.” I blush, reaching down to grab my sheets, covering myself back up. “Yeah, I don’t know what’s happening.... I first noticed that it happened after I woke up for the first time around noon.” “That’s scary! Was it because of the protein powder?” Kyle asks. “I think so... it just doesn’t seem to work as intended on me, like it has for you or Shawn. Look at you! You look incredible. And that’s just in, what? A day and a half?” “Yeah,” Kyle says, “I feel incredible. I can’t believe this is my body... I have wanted to be bigger my whole life, and I was held back by genetics. This powder seems to just break down all those barriers. Maybe we can get someone to look at it for us? Obviously it’s not just protein, I mean it’s made me grow 2 inches. In two days. That’s unheard of. And how much did it make you shrink?” “I’m not sure, I measured myself at 5’8 earlier.” “We’re the same height?” Kyle asks, concerned and shocked. “That can’t be right. Stand up!” I grab my shorts from the bottom of my bed and pull them up under my covers, pulling the drawstrings as tightly as possible. I swing out from my bed, planting my feet on the ground and standing up straight. I look directly at Kyle. I’m looking at his nose. “I didn’t think we were the same height. You look like you might be like.. 5'6. Here,” he says, tossing me a pair of his shorts from a drawer. “Try these on.” I turn around and drop my shorts, pulling on Kyles khaki shorts. They fit perfectly. Did I shrink more? Could Shawn’s cum have had some traces of that protein powder in it? “This is terrifying Kyle. I don’t want to shrink anymore. Is there anything we can do?” “Dude,” Kyle says, “I get it. Being short SUCKS. Looking up at everyone, living in a world made for people who are at least 5’10. Trust me. You’re basically the first guy I’ve ever been taller than, as an adult. And that’s just as of today. Trust me, I will help you out. Do we know anybody who could look at the protein powder and see why it’s fucking you up so badly?” “Maybe... I don’t know who I could talk to.” “Hold on a sec, I will grab you some to put aside, we can brainstorm in a bit.” Kyle then drags his chair over to his closet, jumps on top, and pulls the bin down. He quickly pulls out a pair of shorts and a tank-top, same style as his “old” workout clothes, and throws them on. While slightly bigger, they still hug his ass and growing muscles in all the right places. He closes the bin and pushes it next to his hamper with his foot. He heads over to Shawn’s room with a blender bottle and a plastic baggie. He’s back in less than 2 minutes. “I grabbed three servings,” he says. “Two for me, and one for you to keep for later.” He tosses me the plastic bag. “Two for you?” I say. “Yeah, a little science experiment I guess.” Kyle says, “If a little is good for me, I can’t imagine how good this will be.” He grins, greedily, as he shakes the blender bottle, thick with the powder. “Have you thought of anybody who you could have look at the powder?” Kyle asks, as he starts stretching, preparing himself for his 4th gym session in 48 hours. “Yeah...” I say, “I think I know someone in chemistry who could help. He doesn’t know me too well, but he seems smart. My chem-lab professor is an adjunct, and works at a pretty high prestige lab here in town. I could talk to him?” “Yeah,” Kyle says, “That sounds like a good plan. I will keep brainstorming while I’m at the gym, maybe I know somebody too. Are you going to be okay while I’m gone?” “I’m not a baby,” I say, “I’ll be fine. Good luck with your ‘experiment’.” “Oh, I will.” Kyle says, winking at me, leaving in a flash. **to be continued**
  11. 30 points
    Chapter Five Something shifted after my encounter with the huge bodybuilder at the gym. Maybe it was being so close to such a massive beast, or maybe it was the feeling I got from making him cum as I flexed. Whatever it was, I felt unstoppable. I upped my gear and began eating everything in site. My workouts at the gym became downright torture. I saw the looks people gave me at the gym, they thought I was possessed, and I loved it. Guys I once thought we jacked were stepping out of my way as I approached a set of dumbbells or bench. I lost any shred of self doubt I had before because I was no longer intimidated to be in the presence of bigger guys, I only looked at them as additional motivation to continue to push myself harder. All the extra effort was paying off. In just a month, I reached 240lbs while maintaining an extreme body fat percentage of 8%. Not matter the amount of food I ingested, I staying incredible lean. You could say I was becoming downright sickening. Thick veins criss-crossed every inch of my body. Deep striations could be seen without flexing with new ones appearing almost daily. I remember being shocked at my own refection in the bathroom mirror one morning. My cheeks had become more sunken and my jaw appeared to have thickened. I stood transfixed at the sight. I clenched and unclenched my jaw and marvelled at the striations that appeared on the surface. I decided to take a break and head out to a bar. After showering, I pulled out a polo shirt from the closet. I hadn’t wore anything but gym clothes in months and started to laugh as I struggled to get the shirt over my shoulders. This started a marathon of attempts to find a piece of clothing that would fit my current size. As the pile of clothes I could no longer wear grew on the floor of my bedroom, I finally discovered a shirt that might work. It was a white dress shirt that was hidden in the back of my closet for years. I smiled as I buttoned it, remembering how huge it used to fit. The top buttons strained against my pecs so I decided to leave one extra one undone. I rolled up the sleeves and took a moment to stare at the vein-covered forearms that barely allowed the fabric to pass. I slipped on a pair of tight jeans that fortunately were stretch material. I once again laughed as I realized that although they looked like skinny jeans, the label in fact read athletic cut. I stood back to admire the only outfit I could wear and was satisfied with the result. Every newly exaggerated muscle group on my body was incased in fabric that looked ready to burst. I could even see the veins on my covered biceps through the thin cotton. The jeans looked painted on and I wondered for a moment what would happen if my dick suddenly got hard at the bar. Walking into the bar was like entering someone else’s body. Never in my life had so many eyes turned when I entered a room. I glanced around the room and smiled at a number of hot guys that would never have looked in my direction a few months (and many pounds) ago. I made my way to the bar while feeling more eyes on me. I ordered a drink and stood near the bar, surveying the room. Almost immediately, the most outgoing guys in the bar started to approach. I was showered with compliments and my arms were constantly being caressed, followed by more compliments about how big and hard they felt. I was beyond flattered but unfortunately, the guys were not really my type. After a rather bold man cupped my hard glutes as he passed, I noticed a lone figure in a booth near the back of the bar. That corner of the room was ill-lite but I couldn’t help but notice the extra wide appearance of the guy’s shoulders. I made my way in that direction and confirmed that my assumption was correct, he was a big guy. I lingered nearby for a few minutes, trying to look casual but glancing in his direction numerous times. Eventually, we made eye contact and he signalled towards the seat across from him. “This seat taken?” I asked “It is now.” He responded. I sat across from him and immediately noticed his true presence. He wore a long-sleeve black sweater that couldn’t hide his round shoulders and thick pecs. From his face, I could tell he wasn’t super lean but his size was the result of muscle and not fat. He was good looking with a rugged appearance I immediately found attractive. I extended my arm and introduced myself. “I’m Chad.” He shook my hand. “Rick.” We engaged in some small talk for a few minutes before the conversation shifted to the gym. As I suspected, Rick was an avid lifter and mentioned how he was looking to add more size. I told him I was working on the same thing. I felt a shot of jealously when he told me he weighed 250lbs. “Ugh, I can’t wait to get to that weight. I’m only 240lbs.” I responded. “That’s great Chad. Besides, you are way more ripped than I am. I can’t stop staring at the veins on your forearms.” Rick said. I looked down and had to admit, the thick network of veins on my forearms did look pretty extreme. Maybe it was the alcohol or the tightness of the rolled up shirt sleeves. I got lost for a minute as I twisted my wrists, causing the veins to grow even bigger. “Wow!” Rick exclaimed. I looked up at him and saw a look of pure lust on his face. Holding eye contact with him, I started to flex my forearms even harder. The bulging muscles erupted with size and vascularity. My biceps couldn’t help but join in. The already tight fabric of the shirt was further stretched and my entire arms inflated. “Pretty freaky isn’t it?” I said as I continued to roll and flex my forearms, relishing the pump that was brewing in them. “Oh my god! I’ve never seen such freaky forearms. They look like bowling pines, but bigger and harder. Fuck, those veins are almost gross.” “Gross is the goal Rick. I can’t wait until these forearms are bigger than Mr. Olympia’s biceps.” I said and let out a growl as I felt them continue to grow. “Fuck yeah! You are fucking hardcore! I love it!” Rick said. I shot him a devious look and extended my right arm across the table while balling my hand into a fist which caused my forearm to inflate well past it’s previous size. “Feel it.” I said. Timidly, Rick placed his hand on the smooth skin and quickly released it with a look of shock on his face. He placed his hand back on my forearm and tired to squeeze. “Fuck! It’s so hard! I-I-I’ve never felt…” was all he could say as he started to move his hand all over. I licked my lips and started to open and close my fist so the individual muscles fibres twitched and contorted under his palm. “Getting really pumped for you now Rick. Feel all that muscle swell and grow even freakier? Feel the blood pumping through those thick veins?” Rick could only nod his head. He placed his other hand on my forearm and I couldn’t help notice how small they looked on top of my swelling muscle. I retracted my forearm and Rick looked up at me as I slowly raised my arm and started to flex by bicep. I swear I saw a drop of drool fall from his mouth as my bicep peak grew larger by the second. The already tight fabric around my swelling bicep looked almost translucent as it stretched to it’s limit. I could see the individual veins snaking across the surface as the muscle grew bigger underneath. With one final surge of effort, I reached full flex and a loud ripped noise could be heard. My tricep appeared to descend from the opening as if it suddenly had more space to grow. The tear increased in size and a new one appeared over my bicep peak. The two rips met as my fully flexed arm was completely freed from the destroyed fabric. I straighten my arm and reflexed it again, willing it to flex harder and swell bigger. “Oh my god!” Rick exclaimed. “Only 19 inches Rick. It’s still too fucking small.” “NO! You’re fucking massive Chad. I’ve never seen an arm so huge, hard and ripped.” “Thanks Rick but this is nothing. Imagine this arm being as big as your waist, with veins as thick as garden hoses covering every inch.” “Fuck me” was all he could sputter. “I’d like that Rick but first, tell how big you’d like to see me get?” I asked. He hesitated then I saw him smile as he contemplated my question. “No limits Chad. I want to see you grow bigger than any bodybuilder ever has. I want to watch people scream in terror as you move down the street. I want gyms to be unable to accommodate the weights you require to continue to grow. And while you become an inhuman freak of nature, I want to see you get even more ripped. You’ll look like a walking anatomy chart, just piles of muscle and veins.” I swear my cock was about to rip through my tight jeans as Rick spoke. He must have sensed I thought he was just saying these things to feed my ego. “I’m serious Chad. I’ve always been tuned on by massive muscle. Hell, I’m not satisfied with how big I am. I never really talk about it because too few guys really get it. But sitting here, across from you and hearing you speak has made me realize that I’m not along. FUCK, i’m so turned on by you right now.” “Me too Rick. I think we better get out of here before my cock rips out of my jeans the way my arm just did to my shirt.” I said and stood up. Rick followed. He stood a few inches taller than me which made him even more attractive. He placed his hand on my exposed bicep and licked his lips as I led him towards the door. I caught a few disappointed glances from some of the guys at the bar as we moved through the crowd. Once out in the street, I pushed Rick against a nearby store window and gave him a strong, slow kiss. He wrapped his sizeable arms around me and started to feel his way up my back causing me to respond with a subtle flex. “Damn Chad, every inch of you feels like it made of stone.” “Thanks but it needs to be even harder.” “Fuck yeah!” Rick said. I wrapped my arm around him and started to walk in the direction of my house. The entire way, we talked about the gym and about growing bigger. By the time we arrived at my front door we were both constantly adjusting our hard cocks in our pants. Once inside, Rick started to kiss me intensely and I reached for the remaining buttons on my shirt but he stopped me. “No. I want to see you hulk out your clothes. No holding back like at the bar.” “You sure about that Rick? When I get going, it can be pretty intense.” “Oh yeah big guy. I want you to show me it all.” “Ok Rick. Remember you asked for it. But first, you’ve seen a taste of my body but I’m dying to see what you’ve got under that sweater.” I said. Rick didn’t hesitate, he lifted his sweater up, exposing an impressive set of abs. Once removed, he tossed the sweater aside. “I’m nowhere near your level of conditioning,” he said and raised his arms into a double bicep pose. His thick arms and wide lats were a great contrast to his tight waist. I approached and ran my hands over his abs and chest. He dropped the pose and flexed his chest. I squeezed his thick pecs as he did so. “You might not be as ripped as me Rick but you are even sexier than I expected. Hopefully you’re serious about getting bigger because you have a great starting point.” “I am Chad. I really want to get bigger and more ripped. I want to be a monster like you said.” Rick responded. “I’ll hold you to that Rick. Take a seat and enjoy the show.” I said. Rick sat on the sofa as I stood a few feet away. He couldn’t help but massage his cock through his jeans as I stood over him. I placed my hands together at my waist and flexed. My pecs and abs could be seen through the fabric as they bulged. “Mmmm, I can see the veins though your shirt Chad. Fuck. Come on, destroy that shirt!” Rick said. I leaned forward and squeezed the flex harder. My whole upper body was shaking. I looked down and saw thicker veins appear on my exposed forearms and biceps. I looked back at Rick as I heard the first seams begin to rip. My other bicep tore through first, splitting the shift all they way up the sleeve to my shoulder. Unfazed, I willed myself to flex even harder. “Holy shit Chad! Your whole body is getting bigger!” Rick said through his increased breathing. “FUCK YEAH! Watch me explode with size!” I screamed. I felt my left trap muscle burst though the shirt as beads of sweat started to drip from my forehead. I tearing noise drove me into overdrive. I relaxed the pose for a moment and them with one final primal scream flexed every muscle as hard as could. I felt my back literally explode from the shirt causing it to fall away from my upper body. I stood straight up and relaxed while I caught my breath. Rick’s eyes looked like they were about to fall out of is head as he surveyed my now exposed torso. Everywhere he looked he saw deep striations and thick, juicy veins. My abs looked like a roadmap with my muscles as mountains and veins as streets. I felt my pumped lats pressing my biceps higher as my now free pecs bounced involuntarily. “FUCK!” Was all Rick could muster. “You sure you really want to see how much of a freak I am?” Rick could only nod his head as I reached for the button of my jeans. I opened it and unzipped the front. I started to tug at the tight jeans, trying to get them past my rock-hard glutes. I heard Rick lightly moan as my cock was exposed, pressing against my underwear. Once past my glutes, I continued to face resistance from my quads. I managed to get the pants halfway down my thighs before standing back up. I flexed my legs, making each one pulse alternatively. I ran my hand over their warm, smooth surface, making sure to trace some of the thicker veins that appeared with my index finger. “So huge!” Rick muttered. I grabbed the pants again and with one final tug, freed the rest of my quads. I pressed the ball of denim past my calves and stood back up. “They’re only 28” right now but soon they’ll be as big as my 31” waist AND that still won’t be big enough.” I said as I extended my left quad and flexed. I strummed my hand up and down the feather-like separations that appears on the nearly transparent skin. “Oh my god! I-I-I’ve never seen such definition!” Rick said in a near whisper. “That’s what I like to hear Rick. Feel how hard I can get when I’m fully pumped.” I said. Rick moved off the sofa and knelt in front of me. He placed his hands on my quads and started to caress them. “You’re not fully pumped?” “Not even close big guy. I told you I was hardcore.” I said Rick swallowed and continued to explore my quads as I started to flex them more. Each time I relaxed and re-flexed they responded by growing a little bigger. I twisted a leg and raised my foot off the ground, flexing my calf muscle. Rick let out an audible gag as the huge muscle transformed into a far larger and vein-covered monstrosity. “Oh yeah! These calves HAVE to be huge to support all the mass I plan on carrying around. At 19” they are already pretty huge for my size but I want them to double in size.” Rick could no longer control himself. He bent down and started to kiss and lick my flexed calf. I lifted my head and let out a low growl as the sensation of his worshipping tongue send a shiver up my spine. “FUCK YEAH! That feels so good Rick” As he focused on my claves, I turned away from him and started doing calf raises. I felt his body quiver as each calf stretched and expanded. A few moments later, I felt Rick’s hands start to travel up my hamstrings towards my glutes. I responded by flexing each muscle he touched. “So much muscle!” He said. “And so much more to come” I took a step away and placed my hands on either side of my waist. I made sure to squeeze my back muscles together as hard as I could before starting to spread my lats. “CHAD!” Rick screamed as I fulled spread my lats. “Your back is so wide! And the veins! They criss-cross every inch.” “Mmmmm, that’s what I want to hear. This isn’t too gross for you?” “Yeah it’s fucking gross Chad. My god, you look like an anatomy chart come to life. I’ve never witnessed someone as ripped and huge as you are in person. It’s fucking grotesque and quite possible the hottest thing I have ever seen.” He said, causing me to turn around. I stepped closer and helped pull Rick to his feet. I grabbed his neck and brought him close. As my tongue entered his mouth, I wrapped my free hand around his body, pulling him in closer. We kissed for close to minute before I stopped. “Fuck it feels good to hear you say that.” “I mean it Chad. You are absolutely magnificent. I want to help you grow inhumanly bigger and gain more size myself along the way.” “Offer accepted.” I said and hoisted Rick’s 250lb body off the ground. He wrapped his legs around my waist as I carried him towards the bed room. --- Finding Rick was better than I could have imagined. Suddenly my quest for more and more size was supported by someone else just as motivated as I was. We juiced together, ate together, lifted together, fucked together and grew together. Four months later and I barely recognized either of use. I woke up early one morning and as I laid in bed looking at Rick’s sleeping form, my cock got hard admiring how far he’d come. His body was barely covered by the bedding so I could admire almost every inch. His upper body looked completely different than the night we met. His pecs jutted from his body at a comical angle. They broke 54” a week ago and Rick as determined to have them surpass 58” by the end of the month. His arms were so massive, they caused deep indentations in the mattress from their shear mass. I made a note to measure them when he woke up to see if he reached his goal of getting them to 22” un-pumped yet. My eyes travelled to his quads and I could no longer refrain from grasping my cock. To say his legs responded most would be an understatement. Even asleep, they appeared to be flexed due to the ever-present veins and striations that refused to go away. I thought back to the other night when Rick nearly passed out from a brutal leg workout. He refused to stop lifting until his pumped up quads reached 35”. I felt the first few drops of pre-cum drip onto my hand as I forced myself to leave Rick’s 278lb sleeping body in bed. I closed the bathroom door and flicked on the light. As my eyes adjusted, I couldn’t help but stare at my reflection in the mirror. While Rick’s progress had been incredible, mine was truly astounding. I stared at the exaggerated angle my traps jutted from my almost non-existent neck. I marvelled at the always-present network of veins that ran the surface and connected to my shoulders. The smallest movement of my arm caused the pumpkin-sized delts to display shocking levels of definition. I placed one hand on my pecs, not just because I couldn’t resist but rather to ensure what I was seeing was in fact real. At 64”, they had surpassed a bodybuilder’s pec, they were growing onto something else altogether. As I felt their mass under my hand, I pulsed the muscles on command, relishing the waves of striations that erupted across the surface. The simple act of feeling my pecs caused my arms to swell bigger. I tuned by body and slowly raised my arm, allowing the muscles to flex and twist around each other as they tried to find space to move. Last week I managed to pump them up to the 24” and staring at them now, I would have been surprised if they were not that big without a pump. I took a step back from the mirror and examined my quads. They exploded from my waist at an outrageous angle. I ran my hand over them and felt my cock twitch in unison with the different muscle groups that became even more defined from the tiniest of movement. The numerous veins running in every direction felt like metal cables under my gruesomely thin skin. I had reached 6% body fat while I continued to pack on muscle. My face looked like a professional bodybuilder’s did on contest day, only mine stayed that way. Even my jaw looked like it could rip through sheet metal and there were permanent veins on my forehead and cheeks. I tore myself away from the mirror and stepped onto the scale. I gasped when I read the number. Instantly, my hard cock started to leak pre-cum. I turned back to my reflection and hit a most muscular pose. As my body inflated to it’s maximum size, I started to grunt loudly. Everywhere I looked I saw muscle. It spewed from my arms, pecs and lats. Poured from my neck, traps and shoulders. Erupted from my quads, calves and glutes. The sight was truly revolting and intoxicating. Without touching myself, cum started to spray on the mirror. As my orgasm reached it’s peak I could no longer contain myself. I let out a wall-shaking bellow. “285lbs!!!!!” I came out of the bathroom to find Rick awake in bed jerking his cock. “I heard you. FUCK Chad, I can’t get over how huge you’re getting.” he said as he surveyed by name body. “We’re both becoming huge.” I replied. “Mmmmm, fuck yeah, two massive freaks. But damn, look at you!” He said and continued to jerk. I stood at the end of the bed and raised my arms into a double bicep pose. I couldn’t help but grunt as my muscles pressed against each other. “Need to get these to 25” un-pumped.” I said as I twisted my wrists, caused free veins to appear on my bloated forearms. “Oh yeah! Blow those arms up as big as your waist.” “Fuck yeah!” I said. I looked down at Rick growing frame as he jerked at the sight of me. I reached down and grabbed his ankles and pulled him to the edge of the bed. He looked up at me with pure muscle lust in his eyes. As Rick spread his huge legs, I bent down and wrapped my hands around the heavy wood bed frame. With a devious look in my eyes, I lifted the foot of the bed off the ground. Ricks’s eyes immediately went wide as my traps and shoulders flared from effort. I wasted no time in sliding my cock into Ricks waiting ass causing him to bite his tongue with pleasure. With his body and the heavy wooden bed completely under my control, I started to slide my cock in deeper. “FUCK YEAH! Use all that muscle to fuck me you giant freak!” I let out a primal growl and started to pull the bed and Rick towards me. My entire body ballooned in size. I felt a sudden surge of power and lifted the bed higher, driving my cock into Rick as far as it would go. He leaned forward and grabbed my fully flexed arms. “SO MUCH POWER!” He screamed. I lowered the bed and without removing my cock from Rick’s ass, leaned forward and hit a post muscular pose inches from his face. I knew the sight was truly incredible from the look on Rick’s face. “CUM all over this massive, freaky muscle!” Rick let out a loud groan as he jerked his cock feverishly. I flexed harder, willing my body to become as extreme as I could. Rick could hardly contain his lust and revolution at the sight. He started to pant like a dog as his huge load of cum splashed against my pecs, abs and arms before collapsing on the bed. “Fuck Chad, you truly are the freakiest beast I’ve ever known.” I crawled onto the bed and wrapped my body around Rick. “You got that right. I need a quick nap before we head to the gym.” I said as our muscled bodies intertwined.
  12. 29 points
    Hello everyone. Thanks for all of the ongoing support! Without further ado, let me introduce part four! Plenty of superpowers in this one! ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Part 4: "Oh shit! Oh shit! OH SHIT!" I cried out, wrapping my arms as tightly as I could around Tom's muscle-bound neck. We were well above the city now, and had come to a stop in midair where we now just floated silently. I couldn't stop looking down at the now petite looking skyscrapers. Tom continued to hold me gently but securely; he kept flexing and un-flexing his biceps and pecs. Not to crush me or anything, but just to remind me of the power that protected me. I think he thought it would put me at ease. "How...how...you...you're...how?!" I stuttered as I finally tore my gaze from the city below and looked into Tom's crystal blue eyes. He smiled sweetly at me, his eyes conveying a sense of both sadness and kindness all at once. He gently cupped the back of my head and kissed me lightly on the forehead. I felt a sudden wave of calm and serenity wash over me. Not long after I felt the trickle of cum run down the inside of my leg. "Did it again, didn't I..." said Tom with a soft chuckle. He held me closer, and whispered in my ear. "You have nothing to fear" he said, "Nothing bad will happen to you when I'm around". He lips gently brushed across my earlobe as he spoke. His voice and words were so soothing that I nearly forgot that we were suspended thousands of feet in the air. I began to panic again. "Easy, easy!" Tom said as I squirmed pointlessly in his diamond-hard arms. "How is this possible?!" I asked. "What are you?!". Tom kissed me again on the forehead. Like before, a sense of relaxation flooded my being, while cum flooded my pants. I felt calm again. "Why don't we go somewhere private, where I can explain everything" said Tom. The force of the air pushed my head and face into the groove between Tom's pecs. How I wished he had been topless. We soared through the sky, and I held on tightly to this god as he steered us so effortlessly through the clouds. The muscles in Tom's back and triceps rippled, and I savored the solid feel of them. We eventually touched down, and it was only then that I realized that I hadn't been able to see where we were going. I was so lost in worshiping Tom that our destination hadn't even been an afterthought to me. As it turned out, we were in the middle of a heavily forested national park, a few miles outside of the city. The smell of pine trees and fir filled my nostrils. Tom was back on terra firma, but was still cradling me with one arm. "I'm going to put you down now" he said, and every cell in my body was overwhelmed with sadness at the thought of no longer being physically attached to this superman. Tom placed me gently on the forest floor. I looked up past his pec shelf, at his face and the otherworldly beauty it embodied. Bow to him said a voice in my head. Bow down to him, kiss his feet, worship him it said. "Frank. I'm going to reveal something to you. I just want you to know that you have nothing to fear" said Tom, one of his gentle, giant hands caressing one of my scrawny shoulders. Tom took a few steps back from me. With his eyes closed he floated upwards until he was no more than a foot from the ground. He held his arms out from his body, with the palms turned towards the sky. Without warning, his clothes dissolved into dust that floated away in the breeze. Only his black briefs remained. He was beautiful. I know by now that I've already described Tom's beauty several times, but I couldn't help but drink it all in all over again. His meaty, sold, square pecs hung over the most powerful set of abs you'll ever see. Eight individual rectangles that steel itself couldn't compare to. Deep cuts separating them. Obliques that looked like works of art. Lats that aided in the formation of his flawless V. Shoulders that embodied the very essence of power. His arms chiseled from clay, yet I knew the felt more like marble even when not flexed. Thick, powerful, vein-covered quads. Calves that a man like me could easily stand on and be supported by, they were so big. And his feet, hovering so effortlessly in the air. Kiss them said the voice in my head. Tom floated back down to the ground and walked slowly towards me. His muscles rippling and flexing with every step. It was like he was walking as slowly as he could just so he could highlight every aspect of his musculature. He also didn't seemed to be bothered by the fact that his bare feet were walking on scattered pebbles and small twigs. It was like he didn't feel any discomfort whatsoever. He finally got right up to me, and looked down upon my being. He smiled his sweet smile, and flashed me one of his boner-inducing winks. A quick bounce of his pecs made me cum a third time. "Frank" he said, "I am a god". "Yeah" I said, panting a little, "I think you are. I think you genuinely are". I reached forward to run a hand up and down his abs, but quickly pulled back after a few seconds. "Sorry" I said, suddenly afraid that I may have angered this superior being, "I...wasn't thinking straight". Tom let out a hearty laugh. "Do not be sorry my friend! Would you like it if I flexed them, or left them as is" he said, and began alternating his abs between flexed and un-flexed. "So...you can fly" I said, looking up at him as my fingers ran over and around his eight pack. He nodded, still smiling down at me. "And, I'm guessing from the show of strength earlier, you're pretty strong too. Like, inhumanly strong" I said. Without saying a word, Tom walked over to a nearby tree. He reached out to its trunk. His fingers sank into the bark like a hot knife would into butter. Chips and splinters flew out from around his grasp as sharp snapping sounds filled the air. If this was causing him effort in some way, he was definitely hiding it really well. In the space of a second, Tom's fingers were embedded fully in the tree's trunks. With a casual flex of his bicep, the entire plant (which was easily thirty feet tall, maybe more) was torn from the earth. Without even needing to draw his arm back, Tom just launched the tree upwards with a flick of his wrist. The tree sailed upwards out of view. "Where...where did it go" I asked, trembling from witnessing this tremendous display of godly power. "Orbit" said Tom as he walked back over to me. Throughout all of that demonstration of power, Tom had kept his eyes on me, and hadn't even bothered to watch the tree fly up into the clouds. "So flight, and super strength" I said, as I rubbed my hands all over Tom's thick pecs. "What else?" I asked, looking up at him with the sort of eagerness a child would have when they get a new toy. "Well it is a bit of a list" said Tom with a cheeky eyebrow raise. "Your clothes; how did you make them disappear?" I asked. "Telekinesis" said Tom. "No fucking way!" I said, my jaw dropping. "Yeah, I can manipulate all matter in existence right down to the subatomic level. No big deal" said Tom in the most comedic faux-arrogant tone of voice that he could muster. He then surprised me with a bicep flex, showing off the powerful peak that erupted upwards towards the sky like the ill-fated tree. A little reminder of his power. "Kiss it" said Tom. Without question I quickly began wiping my tongue up and down, left and right, and all around the muscle. "Okay, not quite a kiss but good enough" mused Tom with a laugh. "Will you show more telekinesis?" I asked. Letting his flexed arm down, Tom raised his other one and snapped his fingers. Instantly, all nearby trees snapped in half and collapsed; falling in different directions until we stood in the middle of a clearing of stumps and fallen trees. I came again. "Unbelievable" I said. I looked back up at Tom who smiled down at me. "Do you have more powers?" I asked, dying to see more of his godhood. "Ask way" he said. "Heat vision?" I said. Tom looked up at the sky and suddenly unleashed twin beams of red energy from both eyes. The beams shot off into the clouds, momentarily turning them red. When he looked back down at me his eyes were still glowing. If he hadn't been smiling so sweetly I probably would've shit my pants. "Super speed?" I said. Suddenly Tom wasn't in front of me any more. "Boo" said a voice from behind me. I jumped and spun around to find Tom laughing his ass off at the sight of giving me a fright. He had moved so fast that I wasn't even able to perceive him as a blur. "And" he said, "I can fly even faster". "How fast is faster?" I asked, fully erect. "From here to the sun in a few seconds" he said, playfully bouncing his pecs in an effort to keep the mood light. "So if you can go to the sun" I said, "then you must be..." "Completely indestructible, pretty much" said Tom. He thumped his own abs so hard that the sound wave rustled the leaves on the ground and those in the toppled trees. Not to mention my own hair. He then raised one of his own legs and stomped hard on the ground. His quads and calves flexed magnificently as his bare foot crushed a hole a few inches deep into the forest floor. A light earthquake ensued. "And that's what caused that little tremor you felt yesterday. It was me landing a little to hard on your apartment building's roof" he said. He then started bouncing his quads. Flexing them on and off in turn. I had never seen a man do that before. "What about senses?" I asked, dying to jerk off. I was obviously not going to do it in front of Tom. "Basically, I can see and hear everything and everyone, no matter where they are" he said. The look on my face obviously amused him. "I'm serious!" he said with a grin, "Go on, name someone". "My boss, Avery" I said, "He lives in a building called Bridgeway Heights, in its penthouse. It's at the intersection of..." Tom cut me off. "Found him. He's having a late breakfast. Nice body too, for a human. Shapely abs and some pretty decent pecs" said Tom, looking down at the ground as if that's where Avery was. How did Tom know who Avery was, or looked like, if he didn't let me finish describing him or the exact location of his apartment building. Also, the phrase "for a human" took me by surprise. I never felt so human until now. I felt so weak and limited. So small and frail. And here was this actual god. Bow to him! The voice was back. Maybe I should bow to him I thought. After all, I was only human. The last thing I wanted was to get on Tom's bad side. "Well the good news for you is that I don't really have a bad side. And even if I did, you Frank would definitely not be on it" said Tom with a wink and a smile. There was a moment of silence. "Tom...how did you know I was thinking that?" I asked. Tom smiled and stood at his full height. He flexed every muscle to its max. "I'm telepathic. I can read minds" he said. "So, everything I've ever thought around you..." I said. "Yeah, heard all of it" he said. His kind smile kept me warm on the inside. I could tell he didn't want me to feel embarrassed. "You're right, I don't ever want you to feel embarrassed" he said. This time I laughed at the absurdity of the situation. And at how helpless I was in it all. "That being said, I know you want to have a wank" said Tom, "Allow me to assist". Before I could say anything, Tom used his telekinesis to summon a far off boulder that size of a motorcycle. It landed right in between us (and would have pulverized me to paste if I had been a few feet from where I was). With one swift swing of his arm, Tom smashed it into two almost identically sized rocks. And just like the tree, Tom sank his fingers into them with ease. He then stood to his full height once again, and began curling the rocks. His biceps, and the veins that ran over them, all flared in spectacular fashion. Even though the rocks were undoubtedly weightless to him, they still pumped his arms and shoulders like any ordinary dumbbells would do to any ordinary bodybuilder. All other parts of his body he kept fully flexed. Without hesitation, I unzipped my pants and pulled down my underwear, revealing my naked cock to Tom for the first time. I immediately began jerking. My mouth hung open and I drooled a little as I looked upon the masculine, muscular behemoth that towered before me. I stood there beating off as I watched Tom display his godly power. I eventually unleashed a torrent of cum. "Impressive" said Tom, as he casually crushed the two rocks into powder with his bare hands. I lay on the forest floor, drained of energy and breathing heavily. With a wave of his hand, Tom caused both my semen and all wet stains on me and my clothing to vanish. With another wave, my pants suddenly did itself back up. Tom then gently stooped down and wrapped his arms around me, lifting me back into him and holding me in the same way he had earlier when we first arrived here. "Except this time I am topless" he said as I nestled my face into the groove between his pecs. I placed little gentle kisses on his pecs as we lifted off from the ground. Once we were hovering over the tops of the forest's trees, Tom looked down at me with kindness in his eyes. "I glad you took the whole 'god thing' well" he said. "I fucking love it" I mumbled, still exhausted from the wank and the numerous ejaculations I've had since waking up this morning. "I'm glad you do" said Tom, "But lets keep it a secret. Just the two of us" he said. All I could do was feebly nod in agreement. I can't believe you can read my mind I thought. Tom chuckled. "Yeah! Makes my x-ray vision seem so much less intrusive" he said. I closed my eyes and slowly drifted off as Tom flew us back towards the city.
  13. 27 points
    Eleven I wake up in the middle of the night with that all too familiar feeling when I've drunk too much. My mouth dry. My head muddled and throbbing. God - I’m back here again. And then things start flooding back. Memories from earlier start coming to me. Images appearing in my head. Being with Josh in the kitchen when I got back home. Saying, “I want to speak to Ryan!” to him. More than once. Fuck! Him telling me to be quiet so dad wouldn't hear me. Warning me that dad was gonna kill me for being so drunk and making so much noise if I woke him up. And then I remember why Josh was with me in the first place. I’d text him because I’d lost my fucking house key. SHIT. I leap out of bed and grab my wallet. I was on the doorstep for ages looking for my key. Like I’m doing now. It’s not in the usual place. But then I look in the compartment where I keep my change. So much change. How much did I take out last night? How much did I spend? And then I breathe a sigh of relief. Because my house key is here, amongst all the change. Thank fuck for that. More images flash into my head. Nick leaving. Drinking more shots with Tony. And oh God - being thrown out of a bar by the bouncers. Arguing with them. And before that, talking to Ryan and his girlfriend Katie. Him with his hand placed on her back. Calling her “babe”. The two of them looking and smiling at each other. Ugh. At least I didn’t end up at that club again. Something in my subconscious must have stopped me after last time. I look at the time on my phone and I realise - the Instagram app icon has gone from the front screen. And then it comes back to me. I deleted it. I was looking at Ryan’s profile when I got home back. And then - fuck - I was looking at Woody’s profile as well. I remember looking at the picture of him and Luke smiling into the camera taken in Surrey last week. And then I deleted the app from my phone. I remember doing it now. Maybe that’s for the best. Maybe I actually did something sensible last night. I don’t get out of bed until past noon. Joshua’s out. Dad’s not around. I lie in bed watching crap TV and feeling like shit. I could watch Ryan’s DVD. He said he wanted it back tomorrow. I told him I’d watch it by the end of the weekend. For some reason though, every time I think about Ryan, I feel kind of pissed off. Maybe I’m just pissed off at myself. For having those thoughts about him. For another fucking guy who’ll never want me back. I need to stop that. I need to stop it now. I pick up the DVD and throw it in my backpack. I’ll leave it with my dad on reception tomorrow to give back to Ryan. I’ve got better fucking things to do than to watch a stupid kids film anyway. “You’re quiet this morning!” my dad says to me as we pull up in the usual spot outside the gym the next day. “I’m fine,” I mumble as I undo my seat belt. “Not still bloody hungover from Saturday?” I groan. “No!” I say, annoyed. “You made enough bloody noise coming home! I spoke to Steve by the way. He said he’ll stay and watch the show with you on Saturday after the expo.” “Oh right!” I say, picking up my backpack from the floor of the car. “OI!” “What?!” I say, annoyed. My dad just looks at me, his eyes narrowed, this concerned look. Like he wants to say something. But he thinks better of it. “Wanna go on the gym floor today?” My stomach twists. “Can I do the Juice Bar all day?” There’s less chance of seeing Ryan that way. My dad groans and shakes his head. “Bloody ‘ell. I can’t win with you!” The Juice Bar is fucking dead and the time seems to drag. I check Facebook and Twitter and wonder what I’m missing out on by not checking Instagram. I wonder if Ryan’s DM’d me again. Maybe commented on any more of my pics. Or even posted anything new. And then I wonder if I’m being a complete dick by not just re-downloading the app onto my phone. I see people tweeting about the new season of that Stranger Things show on Netflix so I load up the first episode. My dad doesn’t like me watching stuff on my phone while I’m working. But there’s literally no one here. There’s been, like, two guys come into the bar the whole morning. I don’t really get what the fuss is about with this show. It’s just a bunch of weird geeky kids riding around on their bikes. It feels like the kind of thing fucking Henderson would like. He’ll probably turn up to class next year wearing a Stranger Things t-shirt. Having gained zero muscle mass over the summer. Nick texts me asking me how Saturday night was after he left. I message back telling him it was fine but that I suffered for it yesterday. And then I compose another text, my stomach doing something strange as I hit send. Weird question! Can you think of something I can confess to someone who doesn’t know me very well? Something I might be embarrassed about? (Confused face emoji). Three dots appear as Nick replies. And then his message comes through. Being friends with Tony Anderson? I laugh at his text. And now I’m thinking about that conversation we had in the pub on Saturday. So Nick’s gonna be sharing with a gay guy next year? Which means he’d probably be absolutely fine if I told him where I ended up the other week after my night out with Tone. And what I ended up doing. And about my feelings for Sebastian Wood. I didn’t tell the lads that I got suspended from uni. I didn’t tell them what I did to Woody and Luke. My dad comes in and I put my phone down. He stops dead in his tracks, looking out to the bar. “Where the fuck is everyone?” I shrug. “That’s what happens when I put you behind the bar. Your face scares the customers off!” I do a fake sarcastic laugh and roll my eyes. My dad looks at me and sighs. “Go on. You can go home!” “Really?” “We’re overstaffed. Go on - get yourself off. Go and see those twat mates of yours or something.” I don’t argue. I pick up my backpack and head out. This is kind of perfect. I can leave Ryan’s DVD with whoever is sat on reception. I don’t have to see him or talk to him at all today. But that plan goes completely out of the window when the gym's reception comes into sight. Because leaning up against the front desk wearing his blue tight fitted branded t-shirt is bloody Ryan. Lats stretching the material. That massive, round arse sticking out of his trackies. For fuck’s sake. Doesn’t this guy ever do any work? His face seems to light up when he turns around and spots me. He leans up from the desk and smiles. That big grin he does. “Alright, Deano!” I nod at him and roll my tongue around the inside of my cheek. It's funny. I was feeling pissed off at him. But now I’m stood in front of him, I’m finding it kind of hard to feel angry. I clutch the handle of my backpack tightly. “Not too bad.” “Heavy night, Saturday?” I nod. “A bit!” “Your mates seem cool!” I pull a face. “They’re really not!” He smiles. “You off for lunch?” he says, nodding at my backpack. I shake my head. “Dad’s letting me go early. The gym’s dead!” He does a slow nod. “SO …” he says, wide-eyed. “Did you watch it?!” he asks, an excited look on his face. On that stupidly handsome face. No, you stupidly good looking bastard. I didn’t watch your stupid kids film while you were at home with your stupidly gorgeous girlfriend. I pull an eeek face and shake my head in response. Ryan tips his head back and groans. “Fuckin’ ELL!” He playfully shakes his head, smirking at me. “That’s the last time I lend you a DVD!” “I’ve, erm ... got it with me if you want it back,” I mumble. He looks at my backpack Then he looks at me, narrows his eyes at me and bites his lip. “So you’ve definitely finished work for the day?” I nod, feeling confused. Ryan rolls his tongue around the inside of his cheek. “Right! Come on!” he says, jerking his head to one side. My chest tightens sharply. “What?” But I think I know what. “We’re going to mine, and we’re watching The Goonies!” Yep. There it is. Fucking. Hell. “What - now?!” “Yes, NOW!” he says. And then he grins at me. This big, mischievous (and achingly gorgeous) grin. And before I know it, I’m following Ryan to his red Peugeot. Is this really happening? Am I really going round to Ryan fucking North’s house? I’m playing with the inside of my cheek with my tongue as I climb into his front seat. I do my seat belt up. And then I make eye contact with Ryan and he flashes me this grin. It’s a kind of shy smile. And he even seems a little nervous. Like he was the last time I was in his car. But, I dunno, he seems excited too. And now I’m smiling back at him. My insides are doing weird things. Fucking. HELL. “You’re not gonna spend the whole time doing Sloth impressions are you?” I ask, as he pulls away from the gym. Ryan beams. He leans over to me. “Maaaaybe!” he says, in a silly voice, which makes me laugh. Why does he turn into this different person when he’s in this car? When it’s just the two of us? God - his forearms look even hotter today, if that’s possible. Thick and tanned and veiny. The forearms of a freak five days out from competing in a bodybuilding show. I wonder what posing trunks he’s gonna wear. “And I still want that fucking confession!” Ryan says. I pull a face and roll my eyes. But I can’t seem to stop smirking. “I can’t think of anything!” I groan. “Oh COME ON! There must be something. I’m secretly a massive nerd who can’t stop doing Sloth impressions. And yooou’re ...” he pulls a funny face, egging me on to finish the sentence. “A midget. Apparently!” Ryan lets out a short, sharp laugh. “I did say JACKED midget. Don’t forget the jacked part!” I give him a playful death stare then turn to look out of the window. I watch the seafront and swarms of people on the beach as we whizz past. It’s so fucking hot and sunny today. I think this might be my favourite day of the summer so far. Ryan turns down a street of Victorian terraced houses and parks the car. And now I’m following a six foot mountain of insanely hot muscle up the drive of the house he lives in. His triceps and lats looking crazy in his bright blue t-shirt with “RYAN NORTH PERSONAL TRAINING” written on the back. And that arse. That ridiculously round and obscenely huge arse. I feel myself starting to swell in my trackies. And now I’m panicking. Because it’s getting bigger. I take my backpack off my shoulder and hold it in front of my crotch. And now he’s leading me upstairs. His back and arse right in front of me. Even the back of his bloody head and neck are sexy. And then I suddenly feel a jolt of panic. Because what if he lives with his girlfriend, Katie? What if she’s actually inside? An image comes into my head. Ryan with his hand placed flat on Katie’s back in that pub on Saturday and I feel a stab in my stomach. I push the memory away. “Do you live by yourself?” I ask, as we get to the door of his flat. Feeling way more fucking nervous than I should. Because it’s a perfectly normal question. “Yep!” he replies. And now we’re in. I’m in Ryan North PT’s flat. Fuck. “Want a beer?” He seems a little awkward. “Erm …” I pull a face. “Still feeling delicate from Saturday?” he teases, with a cheeky smirk. I smirk and shake my head. “Fuck it - gimme one!” Ryan tells me to go through to his lounge as he goes to the kitchen. The first thing I notice is a framed picture of him at a bodybuilding show sat on a big bookshelf. He’s shredded and bronzed and cranking out a most muscular with a big trophy placed on the floor next to him. And he’s wearing Union Jack patterned posing trunks. Jesus. They’re tacky as fuck. And yet - even though I don’t know Ryan that well - it just seems right that he’d be wearing Union Jack posing trunks. It feels like a Ryan thing to do I guess. His hair is different in the picture too. It’s styled into a big, crazy mohawk. I roll my tongue around the inside of my cheek, smirk and shake my head. There’s also a black and white picture of a woman. She’s pretty stunning. I presume it’s his mum. I imagine they’re quite close if he’s got a framed picture of her on display. Something twists in my stomach at that thought. There’s no pictures of Katie. Huh - I feel oddly smug about that fact. I move on to an absurdly huge collection of DVD’s. There’s about six shelves from top to bottom full of them. A bunch of them don’t even look English. I lean in and try to work out what they are. Some Chinese or Japanese animation stuff. Ryan comes in with two cans of beer and hands me one. “You really ARE a fucking nerd!” I tease, pulling a face at his DVD collection. He does this big goofy grin and shrugs, unapologetically. And then I spot something else. These two figures of little men with big heads. “Erm …” I pick one up and look at Ryan, my face playfully screwed up in disapproval. Ryan laughs. “Put Dom down next to Cole and come and watch the film!” I shake my head. “I don’t even wanna KNOW who they are!” I sit down on Ryan’s sofa as he loads up the DVD. He comes over. This sort of part giddy, part nervous smile on his face. And fuck - now he’s sat next to me on the sofa. His body right next to mine. Those huge thighs just inches from mine. His forearms right bloody there. I suddenly feel myself starting to swell again. Fuck. I don’t know if it’s my imagination but, now that Ryan’s sat next to me, it sort of feels like there’s this atmosphere. And I suddenly feel nervous. I look over and he catches my eye and his mouth curls into a little grin. He still seems a little nervous. Am I completely imagining this? I’m kind of relieved Ryan offered me a drink now. The beer’s definitely helping my nerves right now. “I know EVERY word to this film!” Ryan proudly says. I turn my head and shoot him a look, with one eyebrow raised. I feel like making a joke. “It’s a good job you look the way you do.” But I don’t. It just feels too … brave, I guess. To comment on his looks. “I still can’t believe you’ve never watched it!” Ryan says. I smirk and roll my eyes. “What did you DO as a kid?” “Erm. Mostly played XBox with Josh!” I say, with a shrug. Ryan smiles at me. “I keep forgetting you have a brother.” I take a swig of my beer. “Does he look like you and your Dad?” “No!” I scoff. “He’s six foot for a start!” Ryan looks at me with his mouth open. “Noooo! HOW?!” I smirk and shrug. “Is your brother a bodybuilder?” “Yep. Well … he hasn’t competed in a few years. He’s not really into it like me and dad are.” Ryan smiles and nods. “So is there, like … this big sibling rivalry between you two? With you being the golden boy?” I choke on the swig of my beer I’ve just taken and Ryan laughs. I’m wiping my chin and looking at him in disbelief. “JOSH is the fucking golden boy!” Ryan’s just glaring at me with a sceptical look on his face. “I’m telling you!” “But you’re like ... “ and then he looks me up and down. My stomach flutters. I look at him blankly, suddenly feeling nervous. But also kind of excited at what Ryan’s about to say. “Future 212 pro bodybuilder!” he exclaims. “Muscle University student. Mini Deano. The apple of daddy’s eye!” I shake my head, but I’m smirking too. He has no fucking idea what he’s talking about. “Trust me. Josh is the favourite!” I tell him firmly. “I don’t believe that for a minute!” Ryan exclaims. “Deano - I told you last week. Your dad literally talks about you ALL the time!” I roll my eyes and go back to the film. “Do you know he even mentioned you in my interview? He told me all about you.” I pull a face and shrug. “It’s just ‘cause I’ve done well in competitions.” “Okay! But he’s barely said anything to me about your brother. He’s mentioned him, like, once.” I swallow hard and carry on watching the film. “Josh is DEFINITELY the favourite!” I look at Ryan. He shrugs and pulls a face like he’ll drop the subject but clearly still doesn’t believe me. We stay silent for a while as we watch the film. About ten or so minutes later, Ryan asks me if I want another beer. “You know I kinda wanted to stay out with you guys on Saturday!” Ryan says with a smirk as he comes back with my drink. “Really?!” I say pulling a face and taking the bottle from him. I don’t know why Ryan would wanna hang out with me, Nick and Tone. “Probably best I didn’t!” he says, sitting back down with a sigh. I look at him confused. He rolls his eyes and shakes his head, like he’s regretting saying anything. I have a feeling I know what he’s getting at. Katie. I suddenly remember the look on her face on Saturday when I offered them both a drink. That warning look for him to say no. “Katie seemed nice,” I say, looking straight at the TV and not at Ryan. My voice sounds weird. Fuck. Why does my voice sound weird? Like I’m not being genuine. “She liked you too!” he says. I look over at him and he’s giving me this little smile. I don’t know what my face is doing, but I clearly don’t look convinced. “Why do you look so surprised?” he asks, smirking. Erm, how about - because most people meet me and just think I’m a loud-mouthed twat faced prick? I just shrug and take a swig of my beer. “How long have you guys been together?” My stomach tightens. Even though I asked, I suddenly don’t want to know the answer to that question. “About four months,” Ryan replies. I nod, suddenly feeling awkward. I look at the picture of him on the bookcase, bronzed and squeezing out a most muscular in competition condition. I suddenly remember what Katie said on Saturday after seeing Ryan in his posing trunks. That “once was enough, thanks”. I can’t resist. “What does she think of your Union Jack posing trunks?” I ask, completely failing to suppress a smirk. Ryan side-eyes me. But he’s fucking smirking too. He bites his lip and shakes his head. I turn to face the TV. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’m suddenly feeling fearless. “Doesn’t she approve?” “Katie doesn’t approve of ANY posing trunks, mate!” I turn to look at him. I can tell by his face that he’s being serious. Something pulls in my chest. I pull a face. “What - does she expect you to get up on stage naked or something?” This big, warm smile spreads across Ryan’s face, but he doesn’t respond. “Wait - she’s okay with you being a bodybuilder, right?” Ryan pulls a face. What the fuck? How can anyone be going out with a bodybuilder and have a fucking problem with it? “Oh, she definitely gets off on the fact I’m big!” My stomach clenches. I suddenly feel a sharp disdain for this person. Who I only met once. He sighs. “Katie really cares what people think. Her friends. Her family. Her parents are SO posh!” What the hell? My chest feels tight. I’m suddenly starting to feel wound up. “She’s never said it, but ... I think sometimes she’s worried about what they think about the bodybuilding stuff!” I screw up my face. I feel this anger rising up in my chest. “What - so she’s, like, embarrassed?” Ryan sighs. “It’s more the … extreme side of it, I guess. The competing. The tan. The shiny posing trunks.” “Well she shouldn’t be going out with a bodybuilder then!” Fuck. I can't believe I just said that. Ryan’s biting his lip. I can’t work out his expression. “Sorry!” I say, suddenly feeling like a massive fucking twat. And now he’s smirking. I can’t believe he’s bloody smiling. “Blimey. You Watkins lads aren’t afraid to say what’s on your mind are you?” I pull a face and shrug. I still feel like a bit of a twat. But I don’t regret saying what I just said. Weirdly I don’t regret it. Why the FUCK would you go out with a bodybuilder if you have hang-ups about it? And why would Ryan go out with someone like that. If I was with a guy like Ryan - fuck it, if I was WITH Ryan - God, I wouldn’t be embarrassed. Far from it. I’d be proud (SO fucking proud) to be going out with a guy who was as good of a bodybuilder as he is. And one who’s as hot he is. And funny. And goofy. And as secretly nerdy. “Just … I think I’d struggle,” I tell him. “To go out with someone who ... you know, didn’t get the bodybuilding thing.” Ryan bites his lip and gives me this look. Like, I don’t know, maybe he approves of what I’m saying. “It’s just … well, bodybuilding is my fucking life!” He smiles at me. This warm, approving smile. Like I just said something he really liked. And wow - now there’s this atmosphere all of a sudden. “I know what you’re saying,” he says, giving me this look. Then he shakes his head. “Anyway, I should be the one saying sorry!” I look at him, confused. “You don’t wanna hear about my girlfriend drama!” he says, looking straight at the TV again. He suddenly looks bothered by something. I don’t know what to say. We go back to the film. I feel funny. But it’s a good kind of funny. My chest is expanding. I feel lighter somehow. It feels like something just happened between me and Ryan. I don’t know what. But I feel like it was something good. We stay silent for a while, until Ryan suddenly gasps and starts excitedly pointing at the screen. “Truffle shuffle!” he exclaims. I look at him wide-eyed, like he’s the biggest fucking geek in the world. But I’m smirking too. “Okay - how can YOU do that?” I say, as the boy on screen jigs about with his t-shirt pulled up. The rolls of fat on his stomach jiggling about as he pulls a stupid face. Ryan is looking at me wide-eyed. “You don’t believe I can do the Truffle Shuffle?!” “You’ve got, like, five per cent body fat!” Ryan huffs loudly and jumps up. Then he lifts up his t-shirt and holy fucking abs! And now I’m just sat here looking at his blocky shredded stomach muscles. Shitting hell. Then he screws his face up in the funniest way and starts jiggling around. It’s so fucking funny. I feel kind of embarrassed but I’m laughing too. I can’t fucking help it. I don’t say anything in response. I’m just shaking my head. And Ryan’s beaming at me. This big proud, goofy grin as he sits back down next to me. The heat of his huge muscular body next to mine. His scent. The chemistry between us. Even if I’m the only one feeling it. “I’ll give you five hundred quid if you do that on stage on Saturday!” Ryan laughs. “Fucking deal!” I roll my eyes and smirk back. And now he’s just looking at me. Smirking back and biting his lip. And there’s that atmosphere again. Fuck. We sit and watch the rest of the film. Ryan gets excited when Sloth comes on. He does about six impressions from then until the end. Like the big massive nerd that he is. The big insanely sexy nerd whose abs I can’t stop picturing for the rest of the film. Whose shredded blocky, perfect fucking abs are now embedded in my memory. Later on and Ryan’s pulling up outside my house in his car. He’s looking out of the window, having a good look at the house his boss and his mini me son lives in. “Right!” he says, locking the doors of the car. I look at him confused. “You’re not getting out of this car until you confess something!” I groan and throw my head back. “Come on. It’s not that hard! Just tell me something about you that would surprise me. Something you’re embarrassed about.” “I’m mates with a guy who does the Truffle Shuffle and impressions of Sloth from The Goonies!” Ryan laughs. Then he looks at me with his eyes widen, biting his lip. “Come on. You know you wanna …” he says, doing that thing where he leans into me. I sigh loudly. “Tell me a secret, Deano Watkins!” And then he smirks at me. This - ARGH - absurdly sexy smirk. I got a hard on looking at your arse earlier. I wanked off thinking about you the other day. I want to fucking kiss you, Ryan North PT. How that’s for #ConfessionOfAJackedMidget? I look straight ahead, out the front window of Ryan’s car, trying to wrack my brains for something to say. “I …” I pause and sigh, not knowing what the hell to say. Ryan gives me a look for me to carry on. I groan. “I … got suspended from uni!” Fuck. As soon as the words leave my mouth I regret them. My chest is tightening. “Bloody hell!” Ryan says, looking surprised. ARGH! Why the FUCK did I tell him that? The atmosphere has changed. All of a sudden things feel a little tense. “Sorry!” I say, shaking my head. “I know you meant, like, a jokey thing! I just couldn’t think of anything,” I say, looking at the dashboard and feeling like an absolute fucking TWAT. “Well … it was a confession!” I look at him and he’s giving me this kind smile. Like he’s not really judging me. “When did this happen?” I clear my throat. “A few days before Easter!” He pouts and nods. “What did you do?” Fucking hell. My chest tightens. My stomach clenches. I shrug and sigh. “Something … stupid!” And shitty. Something really, really shitty. Ryan’s just looking at me, like he genuinely wants to know. Like he’s actually interested. Or is he just humouring me? Is he wishing he’d never asked? I can’t believe I’m telling him this. I clear my throat and shake my head. Then I talk as if what happened wasn’t that much of a big deal. “There’s this … guy I don’t get on with. We’re always, sort of, saying stuff to each other. And …” I shake my head and roll my eyes, “I posted something on the uni Facebook page about him which I shouldn’t have. The teachers saw it and …” and then I stop and shrug. Ryan looks at me and pulls an eeek face. But he still doesn’t seem like he’s judging me. “What did your dad say?” I shake my head. “Fucking BOLLOCKED me!” Why is it so easy to talk to Ryan? He smiles at me. “Hmmm. My nerd secret feels kinda tame now!” I smile back at him and bite my lip. “Do you wish you hadn’t done it?” he asks. My chest feels heavy all of a sudden. “Yeah!” I say, nodding, not looking at him. “I mean … we’ve all done stuff we wish we hadn’t!” But not what I did. Only a fucking twat would have done what I did. I chew the inside of my mouth and nod. “Okay - ONE more thing before I let you out!” Ryan says, the mood suddenly lightened. I look at him puzzled. “You’re not leaving this car until …” I’ve rammed my tongue down your fucking throat. “... you do a Sloth impression!” “FUCK OFF!” I say, shaking my head and smiling. “Come on! Just one teenie tiny impression. Hey you guuuys!” I roll my tongue around the inside of my mouth and shake my head. “No way!” “AND you’ve gotta do the face as well!” I sigh. I look at Ryan. That beautiful fucking face. Jesus. “Okay, okay!” I say, sighing. “Jesus!” I suddenly feel really shy. I try to do the voice. “Hey you guuuys!” I say, quietly. Ryan’s beaming. “Do the face!” But I can’t. I shake my head, feeling embarrassed but I’m smiling too. “Awww!” Ryan says, almost like he thinks I’m being cute or something. I look at him. And he’s giving me this look. And it feels like someone’s pinched my heart. Fuck. He bites his lip as his eyes go down to my legs. And it feels like there’s this weird tension. This atmosphere. Even more than before when we were sitting next to each other on his sofa. What the FUCK is happening? And then Ryan’s eyes suddenly veer away and he unlocks the door. “Next time you’re doing the face!” he says with a smirk. I roll my eyes, say goodbye and get out of the car. I barely think about anything but Ryan North for the rest of the night.
  14. 26 points
    I stomped towards the gym, hungry and almost delirious for cum and more muscle. I was still naked and as pumped as hell since leaving Kyle as a broken man, covered in a sea of my jizz. I broke down the back door to the gym, stealing a tracksuit, which I stretched to its limit, so I could avoid getting kicked out. Although, the idea of someone trying to kick me out made me spurt a gob of pre cum........ I would destroy anyone. I walked into the gym, and the stink of manly power was in the air. I could smell the workout musk and testosterone in the air. It made me half hard. There were 9 real muscle heads in the gym. I needed to find those who were gay and man enough to get freaky with me. So, I walked over to a pillar in the middle of the gym. A foot thick steel beam. I grinned like a schoolgirl when I thought of what I was about to do. I wrapped my 26” biceps around it, as well as my tree trunk legs. For a second some of the meatheads thought I was going to try and use it to poll-dance! “Mmmmm yea. Watch this little girls mffffffff”. I started to squeeze my legs and arms at the same time, putting unbelievable pressure on the beam. “Fucking steel has not nothing on my super body. FFfrrrrrrawwwwww”. All the meatheads were looking shocked, and shock turned to minds being blown as they saw the beam start to warp, and hear the groaning of steel being bent. “More. Come on you lump of shit. Push me. Make me work for it. Test my fucking strength!” I was getting rock hard as I felt blood pump through my veins like a firehose, forcing more mass onto my frame. I thought about how much I used to look like Tom Daly with my tight swimmers body, and how I was now the freak of my dreams thanks to all the cum and roids...... THE ROIDS! AN IDEA! I got off of the beam. It was mangled and twisted, but still relatively upright. I turned to my meathead audience. “I need roids. Tons. NOW. I’m going to rip this motherfucker down. Who’s going to help me get there?” I could demand more cum now, and a load of these meatheads would give it to me. But in my mind, that was my reward for after destroying the beam. Then the true swelling of my mass could start. A ginger beast with a Zac Efron body dashed over with a gym bag. I could see the glint of syringes...... ..................................................................... Kyle was slowly walking back to his old gym. A new man in his mindset. He had spent weeks loyally helping Tim beef up. All of the cum, the worship, everything. And he had been treated like crap. Well, if cum from muscle dudes had made Tim this ultra cocky prick, it can do the same for Kyle. Kyle stopped as he got to the door. He needed to get big and fast. He needed to become a monster like Tim, so he could teach him a lesson. But finding muscle boys to suck would take time. After all, Tim put work into stalking him. Plus had the expensive roids. Plus had Kyle on tap for weeks. “Fuck!” Kyle punched the door. He needed mass. He suddenly had such a taste for it. He didn’t hate Tim for becoming this cocking beast. He had every right to be given his new musclebound body. Kyle just wanted the same rush! Suddenly, an idea. Something Tim didn’t try. Kyle got out his phone, hands shaking, as he called an escort agency. “I need muscle guys. Like 5 or 6 who don’t mind working together” “So you are trying to set up an orgy sir? That will be quite a premium for.....” “Yea yea fine. What can you give me within 48 hours?” Kyle was going to catch up - fast.
  15. 26 points
    Part two: After talking with Kyle a little bit more, I get ready for class. I settle in for “syllabus day”, letting my mind wander as all of my new professors tell me just how “tough” they are going to be in the upcoming year. I don’t really listen though, because all I can think about is how close Shawn was to my weights. How could he have caught up to me so fast? He never lifted, and, while I wasn’t crazy serious about it, I went once or twice a week all year last year. It just didn’t make any sense. He must have gone really hard those last few weeks of summer. What is Izzy doing to his mind.... “Colten!” I’m snaipped out of my haze. I look over, and I see that Shawn is in my one gen-Ed this semester. He’s wearing this green polo that he loves for some reason, but honestly, it’s way too big on him. I mean, he might have gotten a little taller, but the sleeves still come past his elbows, and the bottom of the shirt comes well past his waist. Shawn is not... the king of fashion. “Come sit over here!” He calls me over. “Dude, Kyle is a cool kid. He’s a beast in the squat rack. Did you see he was squatting 270, no problem? That was basically his warm up. Must be that low center of gravity. I want that in all my lifts!!!” “Man, chill out. You doing okay? You’re talking a mile a minute!” “Haha, sorry bud, I’m just so revved up from my workout this morning. You on for tomorrow?” “Sure,” I say, although I’m already starting to feel sore from today’s workout. “Would you mind if I tried some of that protein powder too?” “Oh yeah man, no problem. Izzy said she can get me more whenever I run out. She said she hoped its sooner rather than later. I want to go as much as possible and take her up on that. Crazy idea, would you want to go again tonight, too?” “Tonight?! Nah man, I don’t think so. Even if I wanted to, I have a chem lab from 6-9, and I heard that professor Barnes takes the whole time, every time. Even syllabus week.” “Oh no problem, sorry to hear bout the lab. I’ll see if James or Kyle can make it.” I’m almost certain that James will never say yes, but... who knows. I never thought Shawn would be into working out either, but here he is, going twice in a day, like a madman. Speaking of James, he stumbles into class about halfway through, at about 10:45 AM, looking like he just woke up, his brown curly hair tangled all over the place. I guess both of my best friends are in this class with me. I’ll have to remember to wake James up for this. He has a bad habit of hibernating through almost anything if we don’t help him out. I wave at him, but I don’t have any room next to me, and he settles into the back of the class. Class ends, and my friends and I decide to meet up for dinner at the cafeteria around 5. I’m a grandpa at heart, I like my evening meals while the sun is still high in the sky. Plus, the cafeteria closes at 8, and I have that chem lab. I get through the rest of my day without anything too crazy. I see a lot of my other friends from my major, but nobody I am extremely close to, I don’t find other business students to be quite as fun to be around as mathematicians, like James and Shawn. I should ask Kyle what he is majoring in. knowing me, he’s probably also in the sciences, and I have nobody alongside me as I learn how to market. I text him to ask and, surprise, he’s an electrical engineering major. 5 finally rolls around, and I meet up with my friends at the cafeteria. Kyle must have said yes to going to the gym tonight, because both him and Shawn roll in wearing some gym clothes. Shawn is dressed yet again in an old t shirt, and Kyle is in a color-variant of those short bodybuilding shorts and tight tank top. We all go and get our food to meet back at the table, and Kyle and Shawn both come back precariously balancing three plates, all filled to the brim with boiled eggs, chicken, beans, and rice. All the typical meal-prep foods, easily obtained at a buffet style cafeteria. “Damn guys,” I say, “there will still be food in 30 minutes, slow down!” “I don’t know man,” Shawn says, “I am starving. I’m not even sure this is going to be enough!” “I’ve never eaten this much in my life,” Kyle adds, “But I feel like I could easily finish this and then some. I had this much for lunch too! I have no idea what’s going on.” James laughs, “it’s because of all your ‘GAINS’. Bro, I can’t believe like, you bros are getting so bro-y that you are trying to outlift and out eat all these other bros, bro.” “Whatever!” Shawn smirks, while playfully punching James in the shoulder. “Ow!” James says, his smile fading, “That actually hurt Shawn! Know your own strength!!” “It did? I’m so sorry!” “It’s fine, just eat your food.” James says, looking down at his plate and pushing some peas around with his fork, while he rubs his shoulder with his other hand. We continue through dinner, chit chatting and eating and, before I’m even done with my lasagna plate, Kyle and Shawn have both neatly stacked up their three, formerly full, plates. “I can’t believe y’all are done already.” I say. “Do you guys want to walk over and see what they’ve got for dessert?” Shawn has a notorious sweet tooth, getting at least a cookie every day last year, even though I had never seen him gain a pound from it. Until recently, I guess. “I’m okay,” Shawn said. “I’m not really feeling the sweets today, for some reason.” “I’ll come with you!” James speaks up, “I can’t believe you don’t even want a cookie, Shawn!” Shawn shrugs, and Kyle says, “I’m not feeling it either, but I’ll walk with y’all and check it out. Shawn, would you mind mixing our shakes before we head over?” “Already on it.” Shawn says, as he was pulling two blender bottles and a plastic baggie filled with two servings of their protein powder and was dividing it evenly between the two cups. Maybe not totally evenly, it looked like Shawn’s got a little bit extra. We start walking over to the dessert, and I look over at Kyle, who is walking so fast I see him have to actively slow himself down to stay on pace with us. Everytime I see him, I’m so surprised my how tight his workout clothes are. Even though he isn’t extremely muscular, aside from a thick, well showcased ass, his clothes look painted on. Confidence, he does not lack. I mean, they were so tight this morning too, but the shorts come maybe a quarter down his quads, and his tank top is strained at the shoulders. If he gains any muscle at all, I don’t know how these will fit. “What’re you looking at?” Kyle looks over at me, noting my stare. “Oh... nothing.” I stammer, trying to recover from looking directly at my new roommates body, “I was just wondering where you got your workout clothes?” “Oh yeah, I love this stuff. It makes me feel so confident coming into the gym. When you’re 5’6 , you have to order a lot of clothes online, or shop in the teens section. My first order was way too big, so I went a size down, and it’s snug, but I honestly don’t mind it. I feel sexy.” “Good on you,” James says, absentmindedly staring at the cookies. “You have fun feeling good in those workout clothes. I’m gonna be bulking up here in the cafeteria with some of these cookies.” And with that, James piles 4 cookies onto a dessert plate, I grab a pudding cup, and we walk back to the table. As soon as James and I sit down, Kyle and Shawn bolt up and head to the gym. I look out the window and see the two of them speed up from their walk into a jog, eager to get going on their second workout of the day. “Sheesh!” James says, “Izzy has worked a number on Shawn. He can home last night just raving about her. It really seems like he’s committed to keeping her happy. I haven’t known Shawn to go to the gym at all, let alone twice a day. Ah well, at least I have the room mostly to myself. Do you want to hang out tonight, by the way? Maybe we could play some Borderlands?” “That sounds great, maybe after my lab?” I say, excited to hang out with my friend for the first time in a few months. “Sounds great. I’ll... probably take a nap until then. Just knock to wake me up.” James is unbelievable. No matter how much he sleeps, he can always get more. He might be the only human I know who needs 14 hours of sleep a day. It’s unbelievable. I tell him to enjoy the nap, and I head to my lab. The professor, professor Barnes, introduces himself. He is a man in his mid-thirties, young for a professor, although he has a touch of grey on the sides of his dark brown hair and in his full beard. He’s handsome, but like, how one of my dad’s friends might be handsome. Not something I really go for. He’s an adjunct professor, only teaching chemistry to college students because he loves the topic so much. Ugh, one of these professors. He goes on to say that chemistry can be one of the most important things we learn about, because it can change the world around us, blah blah blah. He goes on to say that we will not be having lab partners, and that all of the paperwork and homework must be done on our own, and if he catches wind of any collaboration that will be an immediate failure of his class. He also says that he will not tolerate the use of cell phones in his class, and that will also result in an immediate failure. He lists about 7 more items that will result in failure, and then launches right into our first lesson. The lab is about oxidization, and the experiments we go through are pretty rigorous. I don’t even know when I would have time to pull out my phone, I struggle to even keep pace with the class. Class finally wraps up around 9:05, and I start heading back to the dorms. I look down at my phone, and I see a text from about 5 minutes ago, from Kyle; Hey man, I’m sorry to do this, but do you mind staying out of the room for a little while? I think I made a... friend... at the gym, and him and I are going to get a little more acquainted. I don’t even respond to the text. I’ll bet he’s already in the room, fucking his new gym buddy. I’m shocked at how open Kyle is. Not only is he out of the closet, his closet doesn’t even exist. Everything’s just hanging out in the open. I head back to the dorm, and beeline for James and Shawn’s room. As I walk past my room, I hear “S&M” by Rihanna blasting from Kyle’s computer speakers, to drown out the noise, I suppose. Subtle, he is not. I open the door (they literally never lock this thing) and head on in. James is conked out on his bed, and I yell at him to get him up. I look over at Shawn’s bed, and it is perfectly made, untouched by Shawn. “Have you seen Shawn?” I ask James. “Nah,” murmurs James, still waking up, “He must’ve come in while I was sleeping and gone over to Izzy’s.” Makes sense, James is not one to wake up for anything. One night last year, Shawn and I tried to prank him by dumping cold water on his bed to shock him awake. He didn’t even flinch, just kept snoozing right through it. We got worried about him sleeping in wet, ice cold sheets, so we even swapped out his comforter for a backup one, and he still didn’t budge. I thought he might’ve been dead, had he not been snoring. “Why do you still have your backpack?” James asks, more aware of his surroundings. “Well...” I say, hesitant to expose my roommate. “I think Kyle has a gentleman caller.” “Ah!” James says, pausing before he chooses his next words carefully, “Do you plan to have... any callers this year?” I freeze up, “what do you mean?” “I don’t know. Exactly what I said, I guess. Just wanted you to be able to share, if you wanted to.” I smile, James has always had a pretty intuitive sense about his close friends. “I may want to have a gentleman caller over eventually, but I don’t think I’m ready for that.” James grins, relieved, “I’m proud of you, Colten. If you ever need to talk through anything, I’m here for you.” I knew my friends would be cool about me being gay, but I didn’t know coming out would be this easy. It’s like it doesn’t even matter to James, we just settle in and start playing video games, like old times. We play for about an hour, and I look at the clock, 10:30 it reads. “Hey James, I think I am going to start wrapping up and heading to bed. Shawn and Kyle wanted to go to the gym again tomorrow.” “Ugh, fine. With you guys going to bed and waking up so early, I don’t even know when I’ll be awake to hang out with you. Maybe I’ll start coming to the gym at 6 AM too.” We both laugh. I know James has never been awake before 8 AM. I literally cannot even imagine what it would be like to see him up and about before the sun is well into the sky. I pop back across the hall, and knock on my door. The music stopped, so I figure I must be safe. I open the door, and am immediately hit by a wave of sweat and sex smells. “Sex in the air” is right. I see Kyle sitting in a pair of briefs playing some game on his computer. He sees me come into the room, and he pulls off his headphones, “Hey man, sorry about the smell. I was so horny... I didn’t have time to shower before going at it with Paul. I lit a few candles, and I propped the window open, so it should clear up in a few.” “No problem,” I say. “Did you at least get a shower in since then?” “Just hopped out! Sorry again about being so up front and horny. I’m not usually like this. I mean, I’m confident, but today I have felt hornier than ever, and I can’t do anything but talk about it.” “You’re okay, Kyle. As long as it’s not all the time, I don’t mind.” “Sweet. Well, some of my buddies are hosting a raid here in a few minutes, so I’m gonna hop on.” “Okay, I am going to start getting ready for bed.” “Shoot, will my monitor keep you up?” “Nah, I’m a heavy sleeper. Not like James, but... I’ll be fine.” He nods at me, and turns to his computer, popping his headphones back on. I go to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and come back to the room, stripping down to my underwear as well, and climbing into bed. I look over at Kyle, who is completely focused in on his game. Staring intently and clicking. He looks good, still glistening from his shower, the water holding onto his thick chest hair, all the way down his happy trail, to his boxer-briefs. His boxer briefs are... notably full, it looks like he has a semi, which is wild to me, because he was just fucked for an hour. Is that due to the protein powder? That shit is like, miraculous. I look at the rest of him. While he does have a little bit of body-fat on him, he has muscles. I watch as his shoulder muscles twitch as he types and moves his mouse, and his abs tense as he leans forward, visibly showing through the fur. I get hard, and feel my boxers get wet with pre-cum. I start carefully jerking off, looking at my compact, intense roommate. I think about what it would be like to feel his growing pecs, running my hands through the chest hair, and even that was enough to get me to cum. I guess I’m feeling the second-hand effects of the powder. I clean up in the bathroom, leaving and coming back without Kyle noticing, and head to sleep, eagerly awaiting my turn with Izzy’s protein.
  16. 25 points
    Hey everyone! This is the first chapter in a story that I’m in the middle of writing. All feedback is welcome, but keep in mind that this is the first story that I have decided to make public, so be gentle Let me know if you want to see more! Chapter 1 “Is there anything left in the trunk?” Nico yelled to his mom from inside the house. “No, it looks like we got everything!” she called back. “Finally!” Nico said with a relieved sigh as he sank down onto the couch. He propped his legs up on the coffee table, leaned back, and took a deep breath, relishing the salty smell of the ocean that was wafting in through the open door; it had been too long since he and his mother had visited their beach house. They used to go every summer but had rented it out for the past four years to help cover Nico’s college tuition. Now that he had just graduated though, they could finally enjoy it themselves again. As Nico’s mom came back into the house and started carrying her bags to her bedroom, Nico’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw that he had received a text from his friend Will. Hey, I saw you and your mom drive up a few minutes ago; do you want to come over to my place and hang out? A broad grin stretched across Nico’s face as he hurriedly typed out his response. Sure! I’ll be there in a second! As soon as he hit send, Nico sprang up from the couch. “Mom!” he shouted. “I’m going over to see Will!” And without waiting for a response, he ran out the door. Nico had been excited to come back to the beach house for a lot of reasons. But the most important of those reasons had been Will. Nico met him for the first time twelve years ago when Will’s family bought the beach house across the street from his. There weren’t very many other kids their age in the neighborhood at the time, so it was inevitable that the two boys would end up spending lots of time together, and they eventually became very close friends. For the next eight years, Nico and Will spent their summers practically joined at the hip; they filled their days playing volleyball on the beach, racing each other through the ocean, and doing many other, usually competitive, activities. Part of the reason Nico enjoyed spending time with Will so much was admittedly that Nico pretty much always won regardless of what the contest was; he was two years old than Will, which gave him an advantage in strength and speed that Will always had trouble overcoming. However, Will always accepted his losses with grace and even took Nico’s playful teasing in stride. As Nico walked up to Will’s house and rang the doorbell, he felt his stomach twisting into knots of excited anticipation. It was strange to think that four whole years had passed since they had last seen each other; he could picture Will as if he had just seen him yesterday. At any second, he would be greeted by the sight of a skinny guy with wavy blond hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a radiant smile that could cheer him up even on his worst days. A few seconds later, the door opened, and Nico’s mouth fell open in shock. The guy standing in front of him was not the Will that Nico remembered from four years ago. Sure, his face was the same, and his smile was just as radiant as ever, but that was where the similarities stopped. Gone was the small, skinny guy Nico had once known, replaced by a tall young man with a powerful, muscular build. His once narrow shoulders had widened, his chest broadened, and his arms thickened. The tight t-shirt he was wearing looked almost as if it were begging for mercy from the incredible muscles it was struggling to contain; the fabric was stretched taut against a pair of firm pecs, and the sleeves just barely covered a few inches of his bulging biceps. “Nico!” Will exclaimed with a beaming grin and then pulled him into a bruising bear-hug. Nico felt all of the air rush out of his lungs as a pair of muscular arms crushed his ribcage and pressed him against the firmest torso he had ever felt in his life. He made a feeble attempt to return the hug, but found that his arms could barely reach around the wide expanse of rippling muscle that was Will’s back. It felt like Will would never let him go; Nico was beginning to feel dizzy from the lack of oxygen. He tried to extricate himself from the embrace, but Will was astonishingly strong; it felt like his body was made of steel. Nico was completely immobilized and helpless. Just as Nico felt himself beginning to lose consciousness, Will released him. The moment he was free, he collapsed to the ground, gasping for air. “Oh, shit!” Will said, kneeling down and putting his hand on Nico’s shoulder. “Nico, what’s wrong?” Nico shook his head but was unable to reply through his panting and coughing. After a few seconds, he had recovered enough to say, “That hug . . . cough . . . was pretty tight.” “Oh,” Will said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head and causing one of his biceps to swell to the size of a grapefruit. “Sorry about that. Didn’t realize I was crushing you.” “It’s okay,” Nico said with a nervous laugh, getting shakily back to his feet. “I’m fine now.” “Are you sure?” Will asked, still concerned. “Do you want me to get you some water?” “No, I’m okay. Really,” Nico repeated more confidently this time, trying to stand up straight and not wince at the pain of his probably bruised ribs. “Alright, if you’re sure” Will said reluctantly. “Come on; let’s get you inside.” He put an arm around Nico and gently steered him into the house.
  17. 25 points
    Chapter Three Loosing James was hard. I felt bad about how things ended. I texted him a few days later but he didn’t respond. I was thinking about giving him a call on my way home from the gym two days later when I spotted a package in my mail box. I immediately forgot about James and hurried inside and opened the box. I remember getting tears in my eyes as I sorted though my first supply of steroids. I wasted no time in preparing the first syringe. I stood naked in front of the bathroom mirror. At 206lbs I was barely recognizable to the person I was a year ago. I looked similar to the many physique models I once admired. My pecs were full and hard, my abs only continued to get more dense and defined. My arms showed a network of veins at all times and my shoulders and traps looked like they were made out of metal. My quads and calves looked in perfect proportion to the rest of my body and the slightly movement caused each muscle group to tense a little. I had to steady my hand as I brought the needle towards my left glute. I tried not to flex it but couldn’t help noticing tiny striations appear on the surface of my pale skin. When the needle punctured the skin, I let out a loud moan. As I depressed the syringe, I felt the warm liquid chemicals flow into my blood stream. I dropped the needle and braced myself again the sink as my knees went weak. I regained my balance and turned to face my reflection again. I interlocked my wrists and flexed my upper body. Every muscle responded and I marvelled as every visible inch solidified. Fresh veins appears on my skin. My eyes moved from muscle group to muscle group as I flexed harder. I started to growl as my body began to tremble. Drops of sweat appeared on my smooth skin as I continued to flex. Eventually, I had to release the pose when I started to cramp up. I splashed water on my face and went to mix a post workout shake. I had barely downed it when I found myself once again in front of the mirror. This time, I grasped my rock-hard cock in one hand as my other hand started to roam over my naked body. “Yes! This feels so fucking good. I know it’s only the first dose but I can already see how big I will get. FUCK I want it so bad. I need it so bad. I want these pecs to choke me with their mass. I want these abs to feel like bricks. I want these arms to be bigger than my waist. I want these quads to press against each other so much, my feet have to be three feet apart. FUCK, I want to be a freak so bad.” With one final primal roar, I sprayed a massive load of cum all over the bathroom mirror as I stared transfixed at my flexed bicep. --- The next two weeks were incredible. With steroids finally flowing through my veins, my intensity at the gym skyrocketed. I blew past all my previous personal bests and I was gaining weight like mad. Every workout left my body craving more and more torture. My muscles were perpetually pumped and my cock was always semi-hard. I woke up really early one day with an intense desire to lift right away. I was a few pounds shy of 220lbs and determined to reach that weight soon. I walked into the gym and immediately noticed it was deserted. I quickly changed and headed to the weight room. I turned the corner and was confronted with a truly freaky sight. There, just a few feet away, was the biggest bodybuilder I had ever seen in person. He was standing in the squat rack and was shoulder pressing a bar loaded with three 45lbs per side! As he hoisted the 315lbs, he was roaring like a rabid beast. I could only stop and stare. He was shorter than me, maybe 5’8”, but looked as wide as he was tall. He was wearing a loose-fitting string tank that did little to disguise his massive body. I tried to regain my composure and started to warm up for my chest workout. After each set, I couldn’t help but return my attention to the beast of a man. I noticed the way he stalked around the room between sets like he was searching for more ways to torture his already huge body. While he wasn’t extremely ripped, his vascular arms, shoulders and calves were peppered with thick veins. Before starting roids, I looked at these huge beasts with admiration and lust but the longer I watched him the more I realized that I not only admired him; I wanted to be him. In fact, I wanted to be much more than him. His mammoth quads would be the size of my arms, his width would only comprise one of my lat muscles and his pecs combined would barely compare to one of mine. The more that feeling grew within me, the more intense my workout became. I was used to more intense pumps from the gear I was on but today it felt different. Each rep I completely, seemly to trigger a reaction that caused my muscles to feel like they were on fire. I could feel each muscle fibre swell and pulse under the skin. It was as if, I could feel new growth happening instantaneously. The more punishment I inflicted on myself, the more I needed. I dropped the 70lb dumbbells I was just using for incline press and instead of reaching for the 80lbs, I moved towards the 90lbs. As I settled in to my set, I felt a surge of power. My chest was screaming with pump as I completed well over 20 reps. I let the weights slam to the ground and sat up on the bench and started to flex my bloated pecs. I rolled each pec muscle over and over again, completely mesmerized sight of my growing body. I was lost in my own reflection when the huge guy appeared at the bench beside me. I glanced over and immediately stopped flexing. “No need to stop. I can see you have a good pump happening.” He said. “Yeah” was all I could muster as I tried to comprehend the fact that he was even acknowledging my presence. “Go for the 100lbs, I’ll spot you.” He said. My mind was reeling but I proceeded to grab the dumbbells. I had never used this much weight for incline chest but I was feeling strong and I wasn’t about to turn down his offer of help. I positioned the weights on my knees and leaned back, letting out a grunt as I got into position. I could sense his presence behind me as I started to lift. Immediately, my chest felt like it as on fire. The first three reps were easier than I expected but at four, my pace started to slow. I felt his hands near my elbows as I reached the top pf the rep. “Good. Keep going, I got you.” He said as I lowered the weights for the fifth time. The pain was so intense, I had out a loud grunt. “That’s it, push these fucking weights, blow those pecs up.” He said. His encouragement sent me into overdrive. I started to shout loader and the weights started moving faster. I suddenly felt an unstoppable surge of power. I managed to reach 12 reps before I paused at the bottom of the rep. “Good set.” He said but I didn’t let the weights go. “More.” I said through gritted teeth. “Fuck yeah” he responded. I let out a primal scream as I lifted the heavy weights for the thirteenth, fourteenth and finally the fifteenth time before letting them fall to the floor. I leapt off the bench, pulled my tank top down in the front and started to flex my swollen pecs. They had never looked bigger. Deep cuts were carved into the surface as new veins erupted under my thin skin. The big dude came up behind me smiling. “Looks pumped as hell dude.” “Still not enough.” I mumbled, lost in a trance at my own reflection. He stood next to me and started to copy my poses. His massive pecs exploded in size, casting a deep shadow over his thick abs. He then transitioned into a side chest pose that rivalled most pro bodybuilders. I followed suit and flexed my chest and bicep as hard as possible. While he out weighed me by a lot of additional mass, I was surprised at how big I still looked standing next to me. “Yeah! Your chest looks hard as fuck! Amazing definition.” he said. “Nothing like yours. You’re a fucking beast!” I responded. He took a step back and peeled his tank off before hitting a most muscular pose. His entire upper body inflated. Slabs of thick muscle swelled before my eyes. “You like this?” He asked. “Fuck yeah, so huge.” I said. “Oh yeah.” “I fucking NEED to reach your size.” I said, copying his pose. He relaxed and grabbed my tank top and pulled it roughly off my body while I held the flex. “Show me what you got kid.” He said. I let out a loud grunt and flexed even harder. I felt every muscle tense. My intensity was so high, I barely registered that my cock was fully tenting my shorts. I saw him glance down causing me to drop the pose in embarrassment. “No need to be shy man. I get it. Being pumped and seeing huge muscle will do that.” “It’s not just seeing it. It’s how much I want it. I NEED it.” He smiled and raised his arms into a double bicep pose. Each arm peaked to an epic height with a thick vein on each. His triceps hung like hams underneath as his lats flared to comical proportions. “You want to be this big? This isn’t too much for you?” He asked. “Fuck no! Nothing is too big.” I roared. “Fuck yeah! Come on kid, feel these huge arms.” He said. I stepped closer and placed a hand on his right bicep. The density of the muscle was mind-boggling. I marvelled at how small my hand looked in comparison. “So huge.” I muttered. He just moaned and turned to show me the pose from the back. I placed my other hand on one of his traps while I continued to feel his bicep swell bigger. He relaxed the pose and turned back around. I could see he was now as hard as I was. “Tell me how it feels to be so huge.” I said. “It feels incredible kid. Especially when I get pumped up like this. My muscles feel so full and tight like they could burst through my skin.” He leaned forward and placed his fists together at his waist. His pecs exploded in size. A few deep striations appeared on the surface as he flexed harder. “Fuck yeah! See how huge this chest is? I want them to get even bigger with deeper cuts and more veins. I flex them all day long, it’s fucking addictive.” He released the pose but continued to bounce each pec muscle. I couldn’t resist the urge to place my hands on them. I explored their warm, smooth surface as he flexed continuously. I had never feel so much muscle before. I bit my lip and started to squeeze the incredibly dense slabs of muscle. “Yeah kid, that feels so good. Give them a good squeeze, try to dent that hard muscle.” He said. As I continued to worship his massive chest, he reached up his hand and placed it on my pecs. “Damn, you are hard as a rock.” He said with lust in his voice. I was momentarily shocked that he would find my size desirable but I responded by flexing for him. He ran his hands over the deep cuts that criss-crossed across the surface of my pecs. He licked his lips as I squeezed harder. “You’re so fucking ripped!” He exclaimed as he moved his hand to my shoulder, tracing the individual veins as he did so. “Fuck, you are so massive.” I replied and also proceeded to feel his enormous shoulders. While not as ripped as mine, they were the size of pumpkins and perfectly round even un-flexed. We both became lost in each other’s bodies until I stepped back and looked him in the eyes. “Lift something.” I said. I could see his eyes light up as he started to look around the empty weight room. He settled on the cables and waddled towards them. He set the pin halfway down and positioned himself between the cables. As he started pumping out cable crossovers, his pecs inflated instantly. I stepped behind him and placed my hands on the working slabs of beef. The feeling of his dense muscle sent a surge of pleasure up my spine. Never had I felt so much mass. He let out a low, rumbling moan. When he looked to be getting tired, I squeezed his pec muscles and he started to grunt and force additional reps. When he finally let go of the cables he looked like a morphed version of himself. He turned to face me and I could only stare in awe. “Fuck yeah! Look at how pumped these muscles are.” I stepped close and placed one hand on his chest while the other went towards the waistband of my shorts. He responded by bouncing each blood-filled slab of muscle. “Yeah! Feel that muscle flex. I want you to cum as I flex.” Pre-cum instantly started to leak from my cock. “So fucking huge!” I mumbled. “Yeah, tell me how massive I am.” “No, I will be so fucking huge. I will make these pecs look puny. FUCK. Need to grow, need to become a freak. A grotesque monster.” I repeated and I started to jerk my cock harder. “Yeah! Tell me.” He said. “FUCK. No limits. I want to make the ground shake when I walk. I want people to scream in terror at the sight of me. I want to be a wall of muscle and veins. FUCK, I need to grow, I need to become a FREAK.” I said as I shot the biggest load of life. “Damn man, you are one hardcore freak! I love it!” He said. “I hope you reach your goals.” “I WILL. I CAN’T STOP GROWING. I’LL NEVER STOP GROWING.” I yelled. Now it was his turn to start jerking. I could tell he truly believed me. I started to flex. Seeing his reaction to my smaller, but growing body only made me pose with greater intensity. I pulled my tank top off and raised my arms into a double bicep pose. I turned my head and slowly straightened and re-flexed my arm. New, thicker veins crept to the surface as my bicep grew to its full size. I felt my cock twitch as I saw the beginnings of a split down the bicep muscle starting to show. I was completely lost watching my own muscle, that I didn’t notice him approach. His thick hand grabbed the razor-sharp bicep and started to squeeze it hard. I felt the power in his grip but my arm was so tense, it didn’t budge. “Fuck, so ripped and vascular. It’s sick.” He said between breaths. “Yeah, I’ll be the most disgusting freak in the world.” I replied. I dropped the pose and pulled up my baggy shorts, exposing more of my body. He knelt down and as I felt his hands start to roam up and down my quads and claves, I shuttled with pleasure. I bent down and ran my hands over his bulging traps as he continued to explore my legs. I pivoted back and forth, flexing my calves for him to feel. I looked down and smiled at how his hand looked small compared to my growing calves. “Fuck yeah! Feels so good.” I said between deep breaths. “Oh yeah! So hard and powerful. Damn kid, I can only imagine how huge you’ll get.” I looked towards the ceiling and howled with pleasure at his words. I planted both feet and flexed my legs as hard as I could. I heard him catch his breath at the sight. His hands travelled up my trembling quads. “FUCK YEAH! Those calves will be so massive they’ll slap against each other as I walk. My quads will be thick and ripped, they’ll be bigger than beer kegs.” He wasn’t even able to speak anymore as his hands travelled up to my waiting abs. They looked like they were carved out of marble but when I flexed them, his hand flinched at their gruesome transformation. Deep cuts appears all over their surface and my intercostals looked like metal cables. The level of vascularity was truly obscene. “Oh my god!” He managed. “Feel how hard my abs are. Mmmmm, feels so good to have your hands on them. I’m going to train them so hard, your whole hand well get trapped between each individual muscle.” I said. They more he explored, the harder I felt the muscles become. Just the sensation of his touch made each muscle respond. I swear I could feel them growing by the second. He was standing again and I marvelled at his shear mass inches away from me. The realization that I had a serious bodybuilder completely engrossed by my body was intoxicating. I turned away and lifted my arms into a back double bicep pose. I felt his hard dick press against my ass as he stepped closer to feel the deepening ridges of my flexed back muscles. “The definition is so extreme! I’ve never seen a back so vascular and hard.” He exclaimed witch only made me flex harder. I held the pose for as long as I could before turned back around and with a sudden serge of confidence, grabbed him around his neck and brought his face towards me and started to kiss him passionately. He hesitated at first before sinking into the moment. As my tongue plunged deep into his mouth, I felt his hands travelling up and down my flexed arms. I only had to extend my arm, flexing my inexplicably hard tricep before I felt wet cum on my thigh. “Wait. I want that cum inside me.” I said. His eyes glazed over as I turned my back towards him and bent over the nearby bench. He let out a whimper as I pulled my shorts down and showed him my deeply striated, smooth ass. He wasted no time in plunging his hard cock in my ass. I felt his hands exploring my back and I twisted and flexed for him. “Harder! You can’t hurt all this growing muscle.” I said ask he started to pound his cock in as deep as he could. I looked up and saw our reflection in the mirror. I was struck not only by his massive body fucking me senseless but by how pumped my own body looked next to him. While he was the definition of huge, I was on an entirely different level. I looked more ripped than any bodybuilder I had ever seen on stage. Every muscle group on my body was pumped to it’s max. Even I had to admit, that for the first time, I looked HUGE. I placed my hands in front of me and in my prone position on the weight bench, hit a most muscular pose. He must have witnessed my back muscles flex in response because he let out a primal growl and slammed into me deeper. I stared as my reflection in the mirror and as his cock drove it’s deepest into me, I let out a scream and flexed my glutes as hard as I could. I saw his eyes go wide at the sensation and his whole body froze for a few seconds before he orgasmed. His whole body convulsed as his load filled my hole. He stumbled away and I stood to face him panting like an animal. “F-f-fuck, t-t-that w-w-was…” He stammered. “Incredible. It sure was. Just imagine what it will be like when I outweigh you by 100lbs.” “Damn kid. I can’t wait!” He said. “Good, I’ll look for you.” I said as I collected my clothes and started towards the locker room. I couldn’t help but notice that for the first time, it felt like I was waddling rather than walking.
  18. 24 points
    Tim looked at the Zac Efron lookalike in the same way a tiger looks like meat. Zac, actually called Dan, took out a syringe with shaky hands. “What the fuck is that?” “Erm,,,,, you wanted roids to bring down that pillar.....” “You think ONE little dose will do anything for MEEEEE. Let me tell you what this super body is you pathetic little twink. Im 400 pounds of total steel, with boulder arms of 31 inches, a 30 inch waist, and quads of 40 inches around”. Tim’s testosterone was making him so horny and angry that he was becoming delirious again. He roughly picked up Dan by the shoulders. “Stuff me full of those yummy roids. Help me hulk out and destroy this pillar. Then...... aggggggwwww then (he was trying so hard not to cum) then I will mmmmmmmmmmm, then I will let you get off in my mouth. Then the real growth begins”. Dan was terrified and turned on in equal measure. Was this guy for real? He wasn’t going to turn down someone who seemed on his way to be a true MG beast. Dan grabbed 6 needles. 1 in each bicep, 2 in the abs, and 2 in the ass. Tim grabbed an extra and plunged in right into his now 11 inch throbbing cock. “AWWWWWW YEA. THIS IS THE LIFE. LETS GET FREAKY”. The whole gym looked so afraid, and started to stink like sex as more and more guys started to jerk off at the teen titan. Tim approached the pillar...... —————— Jake was back at his house, waiting for his escourts. He was in the right head space. He needed cum from muscle dudes. He needed to get beyond buff like Tim. He then needed, more than anyone needed anything, to teach Tim a lesson. The very idea of being big enough to take Tim down made him hard. Tim has broken him mentally, and Jake was so glad for it. He would use it to get BIG! The door opened as 6 hunks strolled in. All stretching out polos and such shirts. All clear gym bunnies. Not super huge, but certainly boner material like a heavyweight version of Tom Holland. “Hey guys. Erm this is my first time doing this” “No worries man”. A blond preppy guy stepped forward. “Payment has been done. You just take a minute to relax, tell us what you like so we can start to..... “No! Let’s just all get down to it. But there is just one rule. I need every drop of cum. You all need to jizz at least twice, and not a single drop spills!” Jake started to strip off with the beefcakes, and then suddenly thought. Tim only drinks the cum. Would it need fuse better with the body if it was blasted onto his ass, and not just into the stomach???????? Almost in a trace, Jake bellowed another order “there are 6 of you. I need 12 loads in my fucking ass before this hour is up!” ————— Tim stomped back to the pillar and wasted no time in grabbing it. The roids pumping through his system like thick pipes pumping hot water. “awwwww fuck yes. I can feel it. Pump me up. Give daddy what he needs”. He was now totally addicted to his own power and muscle. Tim could hear the beautiful sound of the pillar groaning more and more under his power. “Mmmmmm yes. That’s it. This is what I need. What I’ve needed to be!” Tim was now not just forcing the pillar to bend and snap out of his fixtures, but he was rubbing his dick up and down on the cold steel, so turned on by his own power. He drunk in his own strength as he looked down at the hundreds of new veins erupt on his arms, arms that would destroy anything. With one mighty heave that made 3 gym dudes cum their pants, Tim wrenched the pillar out, and tossed it 10 meters across the room. “IM A FUCKING GOD! UNSTOPPABLE!” Dan slowly walked to the bar, and saw something so mind bending that it almost made his mind snap. With a shacking hand, he pointed at a large deep groove in the metal. “I .... I think..... oh my god,,,, I think you massively dented that metal with your cock” Tim stood there frozen. Confirmation that he was now so jacked that he was hardly human. He exploded into the most gruesome most muscular in history. “ROAORRRRRRRR”. His hands free cum shot knocked Dan off of his feet. Breathing deeply, Tim looked over at the dudes left in the gym, flexing his cannon of an arm. “I hope you have juice left in your balls. Because it’s time for me to really overdose”. —————- Kyle was still being fucked without mercy by Jamie. He had, in just 50 minutes, become an utter power bottom. After each load, using his internal muscles to keep the cum from running out. His mind warped on one thing - absorb and get huge. “Fuckkkkk. He can take a pounding. Such a tight muscle ass!” Exclaimed one of the nameless twunks. “Why so much punishment man?” Kyle said nothing. He just had a manic grin on his face as he took his pounding and stared longingly at his home gym kit.
  19. 23 points
    Alright guys. Here it is. My contribution to storiversary. I honestly had a lot of trouble coming up with what to write and I feel like what I did come up with is a little fast paced, almost rushed. But if you don't like wasting time and getting right to the good stuff (muscle growth) then this story is for you. lol Enjoy! ************************************** Where to begin? Well, I guess the beginning. My buddy Nolan and I have been inseparable since birth. We went to the same elementary, middle, high school, we graduated together, and now we’re college roomies. We’d just gotten settled in to our new apartment on campus. Nolan was struggling to get his last box of supplies through the door. He finally plopped the box down in the living room with a loud thud and huffed loudly. The box couldn’t have weighed more than fifty pounds, but he was a little guy, barely 5’6”, no more than 140lbs soaking wet. He was a good looking dude in the youthful kind of way. He couldn’t grow a beard to save his life, so had long since embraced the baby face look. Although he had plenty of self-confidence in his looks, he was extremely self conscious of his size. He always wore extremely baggy clothes in an attempt to hide his frail physique. He had always wanted to play on the football team at school. Obviously, no coach was going to let a little shrimp like Nolan play. Unfortunately, he just didn’t have the willpower. He would hire the personal trainers, but wouldn’t follow through. He would start the meal plans, but not finish them. And I wasn’t any help. I didn’t hold him accountable. So by senior year, he had accepted his fate. He was doomed to be the skinny twerp for the rest of his life. What Nolan didn’t know, is that I’d been doing a ton of research in my spare time and I might have figured out a solution to all of his problems. Now, what I’m about to explain sounds crazy - absolutely impossible - but it’s not. I mean, yeah, it’s crazy, for sure, but somehow, entirely possible. I had stumbled upon a device that will allow me to channel my consciousness back in time. My plan is to travel back to various times in our past and impress upon Nolan to push himself harder and give him the push to grow far before he was really thinking about it. Hopefully, his genetics are only restricting him so much and a little extra inspiration will give him the push to actually put on some size. Hell, I would strap him down and force feed him if I needed to! But for now, back to reality. Unpacking. After several hours, we finally got the apartment looking somewhat like a home, with pretty much everything put in its place. We were both wiped out. But we were done. Nolan lifted up the front of his baggy shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow, uncovering his skinny abs. Jesus, I swear you could almost see his ribs underneath. We had some pizza delivered, chowed down, and Nolan stumbled to his room and passed out for the night. Classes didn’t begin for a couple of days, which was nice. We had a few days to get settled in. I went to my room and pulled the little device out of my pocket and stared at it intently. All I had to do was enter a date on the screen and place the device on my forehead and go to sleep and I would travel via my conscious back to whatever time I had entered. Obviously it had to be a time that I existed or I wouldn’t have a body to land in. I had decided on a date about five years ago, right before we were to finish 8th grade and start high school - the summer before. It seemed like a semi-pivotal point in our lives. I didn’t want to do anything too drastic to start so this seemed like the most straightforward option. I entered the date, stuck the weird device to my forehead and closed my eyes. I drifted off to sleep, and all of a sudden, I’m staring at adolescent Nolan, which unfortunately for him, wasn’t much different from adult Nolan. I blinked twice. Was I in a dream or did the device actually work? This felt so real. “Hello? Earth to James. Knock, knock! Anybody there?” Shit I had stared to long and zoned out. I snapped out of it and smirked at him. “Sorry man just thinking about how dope this summer is gonna be. We’re gonna get jacked this summer right?”, I joked. Nolan just laughed. “Yeah right dude. Have you forgotten who you’re talking to? Mr. Jack Skellington, himself.”, he said as he gestured to his gaunt figure. “No man I’m serious. This time’s going to be different. I’m holding you accountable. We’re going to work out every day, and eat until we literally can’t eat anything else.” This would, hopefully, be the tipping point. So for the next month, I ripped into him. I forced protein shakes down his throat, dragged him to the gym, until he finally seemed to be less resistant to the whole thing. I had pushed it onto him just long enough where I think he started noticing the slightest of results, and that was all it took for him to be hooked. That was all I needed. As I went to ‘sleep’, in my dream state, I willed myself back to the present, which was an even weirder feeling than when I got here. I woke up with a start and checked my watch. I had been asleep for what literally felt like a month, but less than 5 seconds had passed in the present. I took off the device and actually went to sleep, anxious for what changes, if any, tomorrow would bring. ************************************** The sun peeked through the blinds, slowly waking me up from a great night’s sleep. I got rolled out of bed and walked to the bathroom. The cotton shorts I slept in felt different, like not tighter, but more fitted if that makes sense? I got to the bathroom and was shocked at the sight that greeted me. Now keep in mind, I was no slouch, weighing in at a solid 180lbs of toned muscle, but I was hardly considered buff. The beefcake attached to my head would beg to differ. I wasn’t huge, but I was definitely bigger than I’d ever been. There was no way I weighed under 215 now. My arms had more shape to them, my pecs cast the slightest shadow from their size. I couldn’t see it as much as I could feel it, but my butt was slightly bigger, pulling the fabric of my cotton shorts more tightly. My thighs were beefier, which would explain why my shorts felt different. They were wrapped tautly around my lower body now, accenting every bit of definition in my legs. I guess I didn’t really think about how changing the past would affect me. I had only thought about how it would affect Nolan, but it made sense. We were inseparable, so if he started working out and bulking up, I was going to be working out right next to him and pushing him harder and harder. I definitely wasn’t upset with the results. I casually started flexing my thicker arms, marveling at their size and their definition. I flexed my chest and bounced my pecs. I grinned viciously. I’d never been able to do that before. This was awesome. I threw on a t shirt, relishing in feeling of my new muscles pressing lightly against the fabric, and walked out of my bedroom to the kitchen to whip together some breakfast. My thoughts were starting to get scrambled, mixing the old reality with the new. My brain was automatically telling me I needed to make my “usual” healthy breakfast of 6 egg whites and a slice of whole wheat toast, but I also knew that I had never in my life made a breakfast like that. As I was cooking my eggs, I heard Nolan shuffle into the kitchen as well. I turned to look at him, excited about what changes I would be able to see. I was instantly met with disappointment. If he was different, it wasn’t noticeable underneath the still baggy clothes he always wore. His face looked a little more masculine and his neck seemed a bit thicker, but any other potential changes were hidden beneath those damned baggy clothes. He walked over to the fridge and pulled out the milk and made himself a protein shake. Hmmmm. Well that was definitely a change. He chugged the whole thing in one gulp and burped loudly, grinning stupidly. “Bruh you making enough for both of us? You know I’m trying for lineman by next season. Boy’s gonna have to pack on the pounds if I’m gonna be big enough for that!” said Nolan. Fuck, his voice was the slightest bit deeper now. And he’s trying to be lineman by next season? He was going to have to do more than just a little growing if he planned on being a lineman. “Uh…yeah man. I was gonna go ahead and cook the whole carton of eggs anyways…” I muttered, noting that my voice also had a deeper, richer tone to it as well. We ate our breakfast and next on our “daily routine” was the gym, of course. Man this was weird. So Nolan got up from the table, tossed his dish in the sink and headed to his room to change. And then, without a second thought, Nolan started to strip off his clothes. I didn’t even have time to react. Apparently he had gained a bit more confidence with these changes as well. Nolan was never one to just take off his clothes, even around his closest bro. Yet, here he was taking off every piece of clothing and tossing it wherever it landed as he walked to his room. The body that was hiding underneath those baggy clothes exceeded anything I could have imagined. He wasn’t huge, by any means. But he was a far cry from the shrimpy Nolan that I had grown up with - at least until last night. He had first peeled off the baggy hoody he had been wearing, which revealed a back so wide, so cut and defined, I’m sure you could break rocks against it. His thick back was capped with a pair of softball sized shoulders, toned with every striation visible. I got a glimpse of his biceps as he brought his arms back down, again, cut as fuck, and about the size of baseballs. His triceps had a nice horseshoe shape to them. Just as I was processing all of this, he hopped out of his sweatpants, revealing a pair of cut-as-fuck legs. Each thigh writhed and bulged with each step he made. His calves were just as cut and defined. His butt was hard as granite and straining his tighter boxer briefs. Overall, he had the look of a pro athlete now. Whatever I had done in the past, lit a fire deep inside of him and he had tightened up and grown his body to an unbelievable condition. He was a bonafide hunk! He reemerged from his room moments later in his workout gear, which was a drastic change from his usual garb. Each piece of clothing was pulled tight across each engorged muscle, straining the material just the right amount. The tightness of the clothing highlighted each of his muscles perfectly. He actually had the beginnings of a pec shelf bulging from the front of his shirt. He was mindlessly scratching at his midsection, which allowed me to get a peek at his ripped 8 pack abs. Fuck, he was a real beast now. I quickly snapped out of my stupor and ran and threw on some clothes as well. It was obvious he was waiting on me. So off we rushed to the gym. Everyone greeted us as if we were regulars there, which I guess we were in this new reality. Again, my brain is still adjusting to this shift. Apparently today was leg day. I just followed Nolan’s lead since I had no clue what we were doing. I had no recollection of my PRs or anything. But, as we started our workout all of this information started flooding my brain. By the time we were through the first workout, I had the knowledge of a seasoned lifter, but I still remembered how I didn’t have that knowledge just a few minutes ago. This is fucking weird. Anyways, we warmed up with regular squats, I found out my one rep max was 325lbs, which is just wild to me. Nolan’s was something like 375? I was loving the feeling of my pumped quads pressing tightly against my workout shorts, this all felt so new to me, and yet not at the same time. We powered through the most excruciating leg day I had ever experienced - squats, box squats, kettlebell lunges, dead lifts, leg press….we ended with calf raises. Devastated, we each stumbled our way out of the gym back to the car - the sign of a good leg day. My legs felt like they were about to explode from this unreal pump. We got in the car and I took note of how bloated Nolan’s legs looked now in his workout shorts. All definition had left and given way to the pump. Nolan caught me staring and just laughed and smacked each leg. “Fuck man the pump is too real today. Legs are lookin’ extra JOOCEEY.” he said, smirking. “Damn brah, I’m fuckin’ starvin’ man. Let’s go get some grub.” Something about Nolan’s personality was off to me, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. He seemed more “broish” than normal? Eh whatever. Probably just the massive amounts of testosterone pumping through his veins after that insane workout. We hit up the nearest buffet and did some major damage. I felt like I had eaten a lot but jesus christ, Nolan put away the food. He ate more than I thought was possible for one human to consume in one sitting. He was like an animal. “Gotta grow man. My body's like a furnace, burning through all these calories. I gotta eat so I can grow.”, grumbled Nolan, in between mouthfuls of baked potato. Nolan eventually got full and we left the restaurant. His 8 pack abs were distended from the obscene amount of food he just put away, bulging out against his shirt. The remainder of the day was fairly uneventful, since school hadn’t started yet. We just lounged around the house, binged a few shows, ate more food if you can believe it. Eventually, it was time for bed again. I had gotten all the confirmation I had needed from today that this little experiment was a success and I knew I was just getting started. If Nolan wanted to be a linebacker, well. He was going to get that. This time, I had traveled back to a time when we were kids. I planned on making several stops this time. I didn’t spend as much time here as I did before. I just spent a couple of days and did nothing but talk about working out and muscles. I wanted to make sure Nolan got it engrained in his head that the only thing that matter was muscles and getting as massive as possible. I then travelled back to the same time I had gone to previously and was pleasantly surprised to see that version of Nolan looking pretty much like the present day Nolan did right now. This got me real excited. If he was already this big now, just how much bigger could he get in the next five years? I egged him on even more in this time period. He was all about dieting and nutrition and staying cut. I told him to fuck all that and just eat big and lift heavy weight. That should do the trick. I could hardly wait to see what kind of reality I was going to wake up to the next morning. ************************************** I awoke the next morning to a totally different apartment. The two bedroom apartment we previously had was now a loft. And it had a pungent scent to it that was inescapable - it reeked of pure masculinity. I blearily observed my surroundings before landing on a bed on the other side of the room. And in that bed was something otherworldly, absolutely massive. Whatever it was, was hidden underneath a ton of blankets, but It’s mass could not be hidden underneath the blankets, like a mountain rising out of the ocean. A deep, guttural moan came from across the room and the creature rolled over, causing the blanket to fall and I immediately gasped aloud. The face was almost unrecognizable, but it was definitely Nolan, albeit, a hyper masculine version of Nolan. He had a thick beard covering his face that was attached to a neck that easily outsized a telephone pole. His shoulders were almost comically large, stretching easily two feet in each direction. It was then that I noticed his twin sized mattress had been replaced with a king size mattress, and he still dwarfed even that. This titan, this beast across the room was Nolan - little shrimpy Nolan no longer existed in this reality. He had been replaced by a literal wall of muscle. I hadn’t been mentally prepared for this much of a change, so slight gasp managed to escape my mouth, causing the beast to stir. He groggily opened his eyes, seeing me stare wide-eyed at him from across the room. He began to shift and literally roll his massive body out of his bed. Only then was I able to take in the full extent of what I’d done. It seemed he had grown a couple of inches, somehow, putting him at around 5’8” now. How he had managed to pack such an obscene amount of muscle on such a short frame was beyond me. He was just about as broad as he was tall. His pecs had to completely obscure anything in his immediate vicinity. They bulged up and outwards to the point that he could easily rest his chin on the top of his pecs if he so desired. His nipples were completely hidden, having been pushed down and back from the immensity of the bulging globes of his chest. The thickness of his back forced his equally massive arms (easily 28 inches, cold) outwards at a 45 degree angle. The tight 8 pack I so fondly remembered yesterday was also long gone, replaced by a massive, bulging gut. I guess he took my “fuck clean eating” mantra to heart after all. He had the look of the largest, most off season bodybuilder you could imagine. Each of his legs were more massive than the size of his entire body had been previously. But these legs were not cut and striated, like they used to be. These legs were instruments of pure power, bulging with pure mass. The two thighs were at a constant battle for space, even with his gigantic feet planted 4 feet apart. As I stared at Nolan in pure awe and wonderment, I was instantly hit with all these new memories. I felt like my brain was going into overload, all the old memories overlapping with new memories and contradicting each other. I remembered Nolan as always being the tiny shrimpy dork, but then I remembered us deciding when we were kids that we wanted to be the biggest dudes ever and we had started working out religiously, Nolan absolutely blowing the fuck up once we hit high school. Yesterday he had finally clocked in at his goal of a massive 450lbs. My mind was working overtime right now to process everything, when the deepest, richest bassy voice sounded off across the room. “Buddy, bro you ok? You don’t look so great. I mean obviously you look GREAT but…” he chuckled, literally shaking the room with his booming voice. What did he mean I looked great? My memories continued to form and with wide eyes, I looked down. I was immediately met with a wall of flesh. Nolan, again, wasn’t the only one affected by my time meddling. I was fucking enormous. My chest was absolutely enormous, blocking my view of everything below me. The valley between them was so deep, you could lose a whole arm in there. I stared in awe at what little I could see of my incredible physique. My hands were so fucking thick now - the size of dinner plates. Each finger was thicker than a sausage. As I got out of bed, I now felt more and more how much weight had been added to my frame. I felt so damn heavy, yet each movement was easier than it had ever been. I had so much power now. I stood up and walked over to the mirror - well attempted to. My massive legs struggled to get around each other, which caused me to waddle awkwardly, but man I loved it. It felt amazing to just be taking up so much more space in the room. As I gazed upon my newly massive self in the mirror, I grew completely hard instantly. That’s when I noticed that my muscle wasn’t the only thing that had grown. My cock had grown to an inhuman 19 inches rock hard. It was wedged comfortably between my thick, juicy pecs. Where Nolan was an enigma of pure mass and power, I had dialed it in a little more. I was every bit as huge as Nolan, but I was also cut-as-fuck. The amount of definition I somehow still managed to show in each muscle while maintaining such a massive size was unheard of. What did he mean I looked great? I mean of course I looked great. All we did was eat and lift. What did he think would come of that? “Fuck bruh. I’m good. Real good. I’m feelin’ extra pumped today.” I marveled at the depth of my voice now - so deep and sexy. I made James Earl Jones sound like a little girl. “Fuck yah brah, lets go make some gains, my guy.” boomed Nolan. As my new memories continued to compile in my brain, clouding over the old ones, I realized that whatever changes I had made in the past had affected us so much, that we had actually dropped out of high school and devoted our entire lives to making gains, which is why the apartment had changed. We were no longer about to start college. We just rented a loft with an open floor plan because it best suited our massive sizes. I could literally feel the intelligence getting sucked out of my brain. Sure, we were probably now the two most massive alpha males to ever walk the planet, but at what cost? I had unintentionally turned the both of us into two hulking dumb brutes. But by now, I'm past regretting it. The new reality has just about taken over and all I can think about now is eating, lifting, and growing. Nolan threw on his workout clothes, which hardly qualified as clothes. There weren’t a whole lot of options to cover up something as massive as he was. He struggled to pull an XXXXL tank top over his thick head and stretched it over his enormous bulk. His enormous chesticles bulged out the sides of the tank obscenely and spilled out of the collar. The bottom half of the tank top was stretched across the vast expanse of his bulging gut. His “basketball shorts” (they would be if they were on a normal sized person) were his only option for pants at this point. It was the only material that would stretch and give enough to hold up against his titanic tree trunk legs and his enormous ass. They also needed to stretch across his crotch enough to hold the massive salami and orange-size balls he had too - I forgot to mention that. My cock is real big at 19 inches hard. It’s nothing compared to Nolan’s python. 24 fucking inches hard. TWO FEET. and 12 inches around. It’s as thick as a two liter bottle. His enormous hands could palm a basketball easily, and even then he had to use both of his hands to grope his thick cock. So between that giant hose and his big ole’ balls, his basketball shorts were looking pretty obscene. The fact that there is absolutely no space between his legs only amplifies the bulge in his shorts by pushing his massive junk forward even more. “Fuck man,” Nolan grunted, “These clothes are so damned tight. I’ll see ya there, my guy.” Finally dressed, er sort of, Nolan saunters out the door. I watch his thick ass and legs hungrily as he walks off - each muscle throbbing and writhing with each step. As massive as he was, every bit of that mass was needed to move such an immense amount of weight. The floor is actually shaking as he makes his way across the room, each step booming. I chuckled as I watched him trying to exit the building. We had had the door replaced with a double door since we’d gotten so big, but even then, at his current size, his massive shoulders still brushed both sides of the doorway at the same time. It wouldn’t be too much longer and he would need an even larger opening. As soon as he left, I scrambled to find the device. Given my new size, this was easier said than done. Even though most of the new reality and been set, my brain was still adjusting to how to maneuver all this mass the best way possible, so awkwardness. I knew we were already big enough - I mean we were pushing the limits of realistic size at this point, but there was a part of me that wanted to see Nolan even bigger. Like MASSIVE. I’m talking godhood - a giant. Also I was worried that if I waited much longer, I would be too dumb to even figure out how to work the device or remember that it even existed. So, I found the device and entered a time codes and popped it on before I could think about the ramifications of what I was doing and change my mind. First, I traveled to the future (weird right?) where new drugs and supplements had been developed to stimulate growth. Not just muscle growth, but height as well. The size I had in mind for Nolan required him to be much taller, otherwise he would just be a musclebound blob. This is where it gets complicated. Since only my consciousness traveled through time, I couldn’t just take the supplements with me. I won’t bore you with the details, so the short version is that I spent several months in the labs with the doctor that created these drugs and memorized the steps to recreate these drugs in the past, which was no easy feat with my increasingly diminishing IQ. I then traveled back to the time period I had originally traveled to, gained access to a lab and recreated the supplements. I gave them to Nolan and peaced out. Phew. This better be worth it. ************************************** As soon as I opened my eyes, this new reality hit me like a ton of bricks. There was no acclimating like the last times. My mind was immediately inundated with new memories. I remember Nolan giving me some pills back when we were kids. He said it would help us get bigger. I had been hesitant to take them at first, so Nolan was several doses ahead of me before I finally joined him. The result had been an explosive amount of growth that spanned the next five years. The loft was now a huge mansion with massive ceilings and entryways. In fact, everything about the mansion was supersized. It was supersized because we had to have a place built specifically for us because we were so fucking huge now. We were literal giants. Gods. I walked past a mirror and stopped to admire myself. I mean, it was hard not to do when you look like I do now. Every muscle on my body was so bloated and engorged with pure mass. I had a custom made towel that was the size of a bed sheet wrapped around my waist, and yet it did nothing to hide the mass that was underneath. Just this morning I clocked in weighing 935lbs at 11’5”. I was really hoping to hit quad digits soon. Like I said. Actual giant. We had ended up earning a fortune making cam shows. Obviously dudes our size were very rare and people paid just about anything to watch two muscle gods go to pound town. We were the only ones that could handle the other’s size after all. The doorbell rang. A little guy was at the door. I say little guy, because he was a little guy to us. To the standard person, he was a big dude. He was about the size of a pro bodybuilder. He must’ve been one of our “premium customers”. Jesus I forget sometimes just how big we are now. Seeing a full grown man barely come up to your waist, his entire body smaller than one of my titanic legs, really puts things into perspective again. “Bruh. Come in man. Are you ready for the time of your life or what?” The depth of my voice shook the poor guy to his very core. “uh-uh-y-y-y-yessir. I-I-I-I think I am.” the poor guy stammered. “What’s your name, little bud?” I asked. “B-B-B-Ben, s-s-s-s-sir.” He was frightened out his mind. I didn’t blame him of course. I could literally destroy him with the mere flick of a finger. I patted him on his head, my massive mitt engulfing it completely. I could honestly crush his head one-handed if I so desired. This kind of power was intoxicating. I watched his eyes grow wider and wider as I slowly removed the towel from my waist, unleashing the beast. My three foot cock sprang forward, smacking the little guy right in the face, knocking him backwards. The thing was nearly as big as he was, The head alone was much larger than the man’s fist. He stumbled back to his feet and something switched in him. All fear was gone as he literally leapt onto my massive cock and just started massaging it and sucking on any part of It’s surface he could attach himself to. I moaned in pure ecstasy as he continued to work his way up and down my member. As the moment of truth arrived, Ben clung to my dick for dear life as he literally felt it “charging up”. Just in time too, as I came almost right after. And when I say I came…I’m saying like a canon. A geyser of cum erupted from me that seemed to never end. The aftermath was quite messy. In the middle of the massive pool of cum sat my poor little muscle worshipper, Ben. The force of my cum explosion still managed to launch him off of my giant cock and into the torrential geyser of cum, but he seemed to be completely content. All of a sudden, there was the sound of thunder coming from the entryway to the house. Nolan was home. Around the corner came the men of all men. He was truly the reason we needed the giant-size house with the giant-size furniture. Even with the 15 foot ceilings, Nolan’s head still brushed the top. The extra wide hallways were still just barely wide enough to hold the giant behemoth. Even at almost 15 feet tall, he was just as wide and musclebound as ever. Last time we weighed in, he was over two tons of beef. Yes, it’s just as unbelievable as it sounds. As I had maintained my cut physique, Nolan had stuck with his off season look. It made him look even bigger. His enormous muscle gut was the only thing that bulged out far enough for him to see past his planet-sized pecs. Well that and his massive dick, but we’ll get to that. “Yooooo you must be Ben.” boomed Nolan with a toothy grin. “This is the lil guy who paid the big bucks to have a private sesh with us bruh!” Before Ben had time to react, Nolan had picked him up in one of his massive hands and just held him. He fit easily in one of his enormous palms, the size of a truck tire. Ben looked absolutely terrified but also completely turned on all at once. Nolan chuckled deeply, shaking the whole house and gently place him back on the ground. Ben was still in awe of the mass of muscle before him. Nolan’s calves, alone, were larger than Ben’s entire body. He barely came up to mid thigh on Nolan, which put him right at eye level with his “third leg”. Nolan’s cock was otherworldly. It was just about large enough to have It’s own zip code. It was as big around as a telephone pole and, last we checked, nearly six feet long. Meaning, Nolan’s cock was actually bigger than Ben was. The head of his cock was bigger than Ben’s own actual head. As soon as Ben made “eye contact”, it began to plump up and engorge with blood, growing even larger and getting harder. Ben then repeated the same process that he did with me, riding Nolan’s enormous cock and just writhing and licking and kissing all over it until Nolan erupted and a seemingly endless fountain of cum showered the entire living room. Ben spent the next couple of hours “playing” on us like we were a jungle gym. He climbed around each of our enormous bodies and worshipped just about every inch of our bodies until he could handle no more. He called his banker and had the $10,000 that we had requested wired directly to our bank account and he left, never to be seen again. As tired as he was, all of the activities of the day had been a mere warm up for us. So, after his departure we went at it like animals. Fucked for 3 hours straight. We almost destroyed the house. After all, there’s no gentle way for two giant masses of muscle to have consensual sex. In the afterglow of our night of pure ecstasy, I lay in our “bed”. I say bed but it was really the size of a normal room. Again, custom made. The thing still barely held Nolan, much less both of us together. I casually fondled his doorknob sized nipples as I reminisced on our incredible journey of growth together. Who knew five years ago, that we would ever end up so inhumanly massive, so powerful? Well apparently, I did, but I’d forgotten that already. This really was the life. I couldn’t possibly imagine life any other way. ************************************** Once Ben had gotten home from that absolutely wild day he had had, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a strange looking device. He had heard rumors of a device that had been invented that allowed you to manipulate reality via time travel. Very few of them were made, but he knew exactly what it looked like. So when he saw what looked like one on one of the tables at the giants’ house, he snagged the thing without a second thought when neither of the giants were looking. He fumbled with the parameters on the device and placed the device on his head, already imagining what wondrous changes he had in store for himself. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep with a grin on his face. THE END
  20. 23 points
    **Note that there will be light elements of humiliation in this story, and I have now tagged it as such, however I will not write any violence or that ilk. Just to keep y'all updated! Enjoy!** Shawn and I immediately surround Kyle, as he grabs what remains of his shorts to try and cover up, as we accompany him back to the locker room, covering him as best as the two of us could. We get back to the locker room with little incident, beyond a few stares from passing by men and women whose eyes could do nothing but be affected by the gravitational pull of Kyle's bare ass. Kyle heads straight to his locker to change out of his torn-to-shreds bottoms, and I am immediately overcome by a huge wave of nausea, and rush into one of the bathroom stalls, puking almost instantaneously. I haven't thrown up in maybe 3 years, back when I had the stomach flu my senior year of high school. Damn, I must be getting sick. At least that explains my lack of motivation at the gym. "You doing okay, buddy?" Shawn says, looking at me a concerned stare. "Yeah," I murmur, "I'm okay, but I think I'm done for the day. I might be getting sick, so y'all should keep your space." "I'm sorry to hear that!" Kyle pipes up, now clad in some jean shorts and a polo. "I didn't bring any other workout clothes, so I can walk back with you. It's cool if you need to go slow, I am not sure how fast I can move in these puppies, especially after that workout." Kyle shakes his legs, and squats about a quarter of the way, stopped by the restraint of his shorts, not daring to go down any further and ruin a second pair of shorts for the day. "Thanks, Kyle. I would like that." I nod, "Are you coming back too, Shawn?" "Nah," he says, "I think I am going to stay here and workout a little longer, I'm still feeling the pre-workout that's in the stuff Izzy gave me, and my first class isn't till 10 anyways." "Have fun," I say, "Sorry about leaving, maybe I can try that protein powder again sometime soon?" "For sure!" Shawn says, "Maybe even tomorrow if you're feeling a little better." "Haha... Maybe." With that, Shawn heads out from the locker room, slapping the wall space above the door as he leaves, grunting, clearly pumped for the remainder of his workout. Kyle and I start the walk back to the dorms, with the sun starting to peek out over the hillsides. Kyle is talking excitedly the whole walk back, just ranting about how excited he was to have set such a high max for himself, and talking about how he's sure he can beat it next time, and it was just his clothes that held him back. Maybe it's Kyle's confident energy that is keeping him and Shawn going, they are just crushing it lately, and Kyle clearly wants to push himself as much as he can. "Are you doing okay?" Kyle asks, "You seem really quiet!" "What?" I say, snapping back to reality, "Sorry, yeah. I am okay, I just wish I was feeling a little better so I could've stayed and worked out with Shawn." "Don't worry about that," Kyle says, "It's a consistency thing. At least you showed up!" "Yeah... At least I showed up." I agree. This doesn't feel like progress, though. My stomach feels hollow, and my bones feel like bird-bones, like even the slightest amount of pressure would snap me in half. Maybe the wind might even blow me away, so little force is going into each of my steps. We step back into the dorm, and I head over to the elevator bay. "I think I'm gonna take the stairs," Kyle says, "Maybe that can help me burn off some of my energy." "Beat ya there!" I say, knowing the elevators are much faster than taking the stairs all the way to the 6th floor. I get in, and press the button. Nobody else gets into the elevator, so I take the time to lean against the bar for a second, catching the breath I was trying to not lose while walking with Kyle. I'm so winded, this feels horrible. This sickness is the worst I have ever felt. After a few seconds, the elevator dings, and I exit out onto my floor. I look down the hall, and see my door wide open. Fuck!! We forgot to close the door, I'll have to talk to Kyle about that when he gets here. I pick up my pace slightly from my "walking dead" paced walk, and get to the door. Lo and behold, Kyle is there, setting his gym bag down on his bed. "Beat ya here!" Kyle says, grinning from ear to ear, his breath not even quickened. "Wait, did you take the stairs too? You're breathing really heavy!" "Oh... Yeah." I lie, "I figured I would try to do some kind of exercise today, even if I am a little sick." "CONSISTENCY! That's the spirit!" Kyle says. "But be sure to lay low if you're not feeling well." "I will," I say. "I'm going to take a shower I think, and then I will get back to bed. I only have afternoon classes on Tuesdays, so I'll probably lay low." "That's perfect," Kyle says. "I have a class at 8, so I will get ready too, but I'll head out and leave you be." With that, Kyle, with some effort, drops trow, and I see him in his sweaty jockstrap, yet again. It looks tight too, but not just from his ass. The pouch seems.... Full. Like... Really full. Like... I can see shaft from the side full. "Yo," I say, feeling bold. "Did you buy your underwear from that same website you got your workout clothes?" "Nah," Kyle says, while peeling off his shirt. "I like my clothes tight, but my jockstrap loose. My little guy's gotta breathe." With that, he looks down, finally realizing what I'm talking about. "Woah! Sorry for the show. I've been getting so boned up after the gym, I just felt so POWERFUL today." "Calm down, buddy." I say, laughing slightly, although that makes me cramp up in my sides pretty fiercely, and I wince. "Shoot, sorry man." Kyle says. "I'm gonna head to the showers though. If you come in.... Don't pick the stall next to mine. Unless... Yknow. Nevermind." Kyle looks down, uncharacteristically sheepish, and grabs his towel and shower caddy, and heads to the restroom. Was he about to proposition me? Even if he was, I don't think I feel down for that today. Maybe not ever, a roommate sexual escapade never really turns out well, from what I've seen. I wait a minute, and head to the restrooms too, noting that the far stall is in use, with a speaker playing Lady Gaga loudly enough to cover any other extracurricular shower activities. I hop into a shower, and reach up to the side to hang up my towel. I let go of the towel, and it drops all the way to the questionably clean shower floor. I missed the hangers? After a year you would think I had the hang of these stalls. I guess not, reaching back up and hanging the towel appropriately. I rub the bodywash across my slightly hairy body, looking down and taking stock of myself. I look like I always do, although I feel much worse. I feel bloated, hollow, and stiff all at the same time. I get down to wash my dick, and there it is, 3 inches soft, like usual. It's not much to look at, but I'm pretty please with my 7 inch hard tool. It's greater than the national average. At least, that's what the internet tells me. From seeing Kyle and Shawn's dicks, when they were jerking off yesterday, I think I'm below the average at least when it comes to my friend group. I finish up my shower, and head back to my room. Not bothering to change into anything, and I pass out as soon as I hit my bed. The next thing I remember is waking up around 1, according to my desk clock, and I feel so exhausted I don't bother getting up. Fuck my classes, I think to myself. I do find myself feeling a little queasy too, so I pull on some loose shorts and head to the bathroom. I walk in and see Shawn, clad in only a towel, brushing his teeth. He sees me and smiles, but doesn't bother to stop brushing. Gotta get those two minutes in, I guess. I walk to one of the other sinks and splash some water on my face to clear my mind. It doesn't help. I stand up fully and look in the mirror. It looks like someone drew black circles under my eyes with a sharpie. I look horrible. I look to my right, with Shawn done brushing his teeth and now styling his medium-long hair. His hair has a nice golden curl that I have never noticed before, but maybe I have never seen his hair this long before. I watch him fix the curls, falling a little bit above his eyebrows, and I see his biceps twitch upward and swell as he bends his arm. "Shawn." I gasp, "You look fantastic." He smiles, and look over at me, posing his hands on his hips like superman. He has the distinct V shape every guy wants. "I FEEL fantastic man! I was going non-stop at the gym, I literally just got back, and I only did so because I have a class at 1:30." "What?" I say, groggily, "You mean to tell me that you have been at the gym since 5 AM?" "Yeah, it's crazy. I was just so in the zone, and lifting like crazy, time just got away from me. But look at this pump!" I clearly look at his torso for the first time since we have been standing there. His chest hair has grown since even this morning, looking darker and thicker than ever before, and fully connecting between his pecs. His pecs! They stick out from his body, giving him a chest that would be noticeable even with a shirt on. He has deep crevices between his abs, leading down to those hips that every guy wants, v lines etched deeply in the sides, showcasing his lean stomach. Shawn flexes his arms, and walks closely to me. "Feel these man, they're rock hard." He growls. I reach up and grab his arms, my hands barely able to encompass his arms. they look like they could be around 14 inches around. "Shawn," I say, "This is way too much! You've gained so much muscle so quickly. Are you taking steroids?" "Nah, just supplements! All natural, baby!" He says, feeling his own flexed arm while looking at himself in the mirror. "Are you feeling any better, by the way, Connor? You look hunched over." "Hunched over?" I look up in the mirror and see that my eyes are on level with Shawn's chin. I straighten my back, but it doesn't help. "Shawn, I think you grew again." "What? No. That's impossible." He looks at himself in the mirror again, noticing our significant height discrepancy. "That's weird... I don't FEEL that much taller... Maybe. I have a tape measure in my room, do you mind helping me check?" "Sure," I say, "But I am going to get back to bed as soon as possible." I follow Shawn's wide, sinewy back to his room. He opens the door, the lights are on, and it's just the two of us. James must have woken up in time for his classes! Good for him. Shawn opens a miscellaneous drawer, and pulls out a tape measure. He steps on the bottom, and pulls it partially up, passing it over to me when he gets to about his waist. "Can you help me out?" "Yeah." I pull up the tape measure, all the way to the top of his head, feeling his huge presence even more with our physical closeness, him just in a towel, and me in my shorts. I am barely able to get the measure to line up with the top of his head while easily reading the measurement, "6'3, maybe a little more. How the fuck?" "YES!" He yells, pumping a fist. "I fucking love growing, I have been feeling it lately, I love this growth spurt! But... Wait. That's only like an inch from this morning. I wasn't looking down on you like I am now. Let me help measure you.." With that he reaches for the tape measurement. "I'm good...." I say, trying to pull the measuring tape away from Shawn's grasp. "C'mon man! At least let me re-measure myself, something's off here." And he grabs the measuring tape with his long reach. He quickly bends down, grabbing the end with his foot, and pulling it up to my head. "Wait..." He quietly says to himself. "What is it?" I say, panic creeping into my voice. "Well... This is so strange." Shawn says, "You're.... 5'8." *To Be Continued*
  21. 22 points
    Chapter 2 As they wound their way through the house, Nico was struggling to wrap his mind around the reality that the broad, muscled back in front of him belonged to his friend Will, who couldn’t have been more than 120 pounds soaking wet the last time Nico saw him. Where had all those muscles come from? And since when was he so fucking tall? Four years ago, he had been noticeably shorter than Nico, but now Will positively towered over him. Had puberty really hit him that hard? A few moments later, they entered Will’s room, and Will shut the door behind them. “So, I suppose congratulations are in order,” Will said with a grin as he plopped down on the futon to the left of his bed. “Congratulations?” Nico asked, carefully setting himself down next to Will. “You just graduated from college, didn’t you?” Will asked. “Oh . . . yeah, I did!” Nico replied. He felt that he was starting to recover from the shock of being confronted with Will’s dramatic transformation, but his mind still didn’t feel like it was quite working at full speed yet. “That must feel amazing,” Will said enviously. “I still have three whole years ahead of me before I graduate. Have you figured out what you’re going to do next?” “Yeah, I’m starting a PhD program in Art History in the fall,” Nico said, slightly nervous about how Will would react; people often gave him weird looks when he told them that (“So, what are you gonna do with that?”) But Nico’s fears about Will’s reaction were unfounded. As soon as he heard about Nico’s grad school plans, Will’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Wow, that sounds awesome!” he said. “So you’ve actually got a fair amount of school left ahead of you then, huh?” “Yeah, I do,” Nico replied. “That’s how it’ll be for me too,” Will said with a sigh. “Once I finish my Bachelor’s degree, I’ll be going straight on to med school.” Med school. That definitely made sense for Will, Nico thought. Will had always been an exceptionally gifted student, especially in science; Nico remembered hearing that he had won a gold medal in the International Chemistry Olympiad a few years ago. They kept talking about college and their future plans for another few minutes, but Nico was having a tough time staying focused on the conversation. Will had been scooting closer and closer to him while they were talking, and his right arm was resting just inches away from Nico’s left, which emphasized the stark contrast between Nico’s smooth, slender forearm and Will’s hairy, muscled one; Nico felt like he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Eventually, their conversation trailed off and came to an end. After a few seconds’ pause, Will spoke up again and said, “Hey, how would you feel about going down to the beach and playing a game of volleyball? It’s been so long since we’ve gotten a chance to do that!” “Sure, why not?” Nico said. “Cool!” Will replied with a grin. “Just give me a second to find the ball; I think it’s in this room somewhere.” A few moments later, Will had located the ball, and they were ready to head out to the beach. Just before they walked out of the room, though, Will turned to Nico with a coy smile and said: “By the way, don’t think you’ll have such an easy time beating me as you did when we were teenagers; I’m a lot stronger than I was back then.” To emphasize his point, he rolled back one of his sleeves and playfully flexed his bicep. Nico felt like his eyes were about to pop out of their sockets as he watched Will’s bicep swell up into a huge, perfectly rounded peak with a thick vein snaking down the middle. Will laughed at the expression of unbridled awe on Nico’s face and pumped his arm a second time, making it grow even bigger. “You can feel it if you want,” Will offered, stepping a little closer. Nico hesitated for a second but eventually reached out to squeeze it with his right hand. As his fingers made contact with the muscle, he almost gasped out loud; it was as hard as a rock and so big that his hand couldn’t fit around the whole thing. “Will, this is unbelievable,” Nico breathed as he continued to gingerly trail his fingers over the flexed muscle in front of him. “How did you get this buff?” “Oh, you know, weights, lots of protein, eight hours of sleep every night. Nothing special.” Will said airily; he didn’t seem to want to linger on the question. He pumped the muscle a third time, causing it to become so engorged that a web of veins started to pop up around the thick one in the middle. Will laughed a second time as Nico actually let slip a small gasp at the sight of the veiny muscle; it was obvious he was enjoying the attention. After a few more seconds of reverently feeling Will’s bicep, Nico started to feel a little uncomfortable that he had spent so much time openly ogling his friend’s body and withdrew his hand. Will lowered his arm and rolled his sleeve back down. An awkward silence fell between them for a second, but then Will cleared his throat and asked, “Ready to go?” Nico nodded mutely, and they headed out for the beach. A few minutes later, they arrived at the volleyball net that was set up on the beach and started to play. Almost as soon as they began, Nico realized that he was hopelessly outmatched; Will’s level of overall athleticism was so much higher than his that Nico didn’t stand a chance. His reflexes were lightning fast, he could move from one end of the court to the other in the blink of an eye, and he hit the ball with so much force that Nico had no hope of returning his spikes. Nico felt like a child playing against an adult; the disparity was that dramatic. Nico did manage to avoid the disgrace of being declared the loser, though, as their match was cut short by an unexpected turn of events. As Will was attempting to score his sixteenth point (next to Nico’s zero), he spiked the ball toward the ground on Nico’s side of the court. Nico tried to get under it to return it but failed to raise his arms in time and ended up receiving the ball with his face. It felt like someone had whacked him in the face with a baseball bat; the force of the blow knocked him off his feet and sent him tumbling to the ground. “Oh, fuck! Nico, I’m so sorry!” he heard Will yell as he ran over to where Nico lay sprawled on the sand. “I’m okay,” Nico said weakly, propping himself up and opening his eyes to the sight of Will crouched down next to him and looking very concerned. “Your nose is bleeding,” Will said. “Here, take this.” He tore a strip of fabric from the bottom of his t-shirt and handed it to Nico, who pressed it to his nose to staunch the bleeding. “I’m really, really sorry,” Will said again, obviously very torn up about it. “It’s okay, don’t apologize. It wasn’t really your fault; I’m the idiot who didn’t think to protect his face.” “Still,” Will said, examining Nico’s face with concern. After a few second, he spoke up again and said: “Do you want me to walk you home? You should probably get back and lie down for a bit until the bleeding stops.” Nico nodded, Will helped him to his feet, and they headed back in the direction of the neighborhood. - - - Later that night as he was lying in bed, Nico found that he couldn’t sleep; he just had too many thoughts swirling around in his head. He kept reliving the events of the day in his mind: his shock at Will’s metamorphosis, the bulging bicep Will had let him feel, and Will utterly destroying him in their volleyball game. It was a lot to process. But the question that preoccupied him the most was why Will decided to bulk up in the first place. In all the years Nico had known him, he’d never once expressed an interest in working out. What changed? And when? Did it all start right after the last time Nico had seen him or later? All of a sudden, it occurred to Nico that he might be able to get an idea about the timeline of Will’s transformation from his Instagram, if he had one that is. Nico wasn’t much of a social media user himself, but he knew that it could be a useful tool under certain circumstances. He grabbed his laptop from the bedside table, quickly made an account, and typed in Will’s name in the search bar. Fortunately for Nico, Will’s last name was fairly uncommon, so only a few profiles popped up. He scrolled through them and then recognized Will’s face in the picture to the left of the fifth one down. “Don’t be private, don’t be private,” Nico muttered to himself as he clicked on the profile. It wasn’t private, but there weren’t very many posts; it didn’t seem Will was very active on social media either. However, one of the most recent uploads caught Nico’s eye: it was a picture of Will and a girl Nico didn’t know hugging each other very tightly and smiling. It couldn’t have been a very recent picture though because Will still looked the way Nico remembered him from four years ago: short and skinny as a rail. Nico clicked on the picture, checked the upload date, and was shocked to learn that it had been uploaded this past September, just about nine months ago! How could that be possible? There’s no way he could have grown so much so quickly. “Maybe it’s an old picture that he uploaded years later for some reason?” Nico wondered aloud to himself. “But why would he have done that? And who is that girl? Is she his girlfriend?” That last thought caused him to feel a twinge of jealousy that he was quick to shove out of his mind. He clicked on her in the image, and her Instagram handle popped up: @rubybaron2001 “Ruby,” Nico said under his breath as he took another look at her. She had dark hair, a sturdy build, and looked to be about the same height as Will. He tried clicking on the link but found that her page was private. “Well, I guess that’s that,” Nico said with a sigh. It didn’t look like there was much more he could glean from this line of investigation. Although his Instagram sleuthing had really just left him with more questions than answers, Nico knew that he wasn’t going to be able to answer any of them tonight. He turned off and put away his laptop, lay down, closed his eyes, and drifted off into an uneasy slumber.
  22. 22 points
    Here's the revised version. There are enough substantial changes that I think you'll enjoy it, even if you read the previous rendition. I've removed some of the unnecessary portions to help cut to the chase but left in enough story line to move it along. I was also able to change the text color to a medium blue. (I can't seem to land black or white.) Let me know if the change works. The Wall, Chapter 9 “Jason” By the time I arrived home, it was half past ten. The sun was peeking out from clouds that retreated eastward, making way for patches of warm sun and blue sky. A soft breeze blew the fresh, wet scent of spring. The events of the morning played back in my head. So much had happened that the memory was difficult to fathom. In my mind’s eye, I could see each second like a frame from a movie, every one a well-focused snapshot all the sights, sounds and smells, punctuated by the taste of adrenaline and the brisk slap of wind and cold rain. The individual frames were easy enough to perceive. However, when I ran them together in motion, they blurred into a confusion of fast forward chaos.. Rushing in,… grabbing the door,… lifting the tuck, …saving the woman. Lifting the truck... I knew I had done it. What I couldn’t understand was how. We have all heard accounts of everyday people tapping reservoirs of incredible strength in times of great panic or need -- like the slight mother lifting the trunk of a tree or the wheel of a car to free her trapped child. The stories are amazing indeed, but they are within the realm of reality. My situation was different however. I had lifted the weight of a semi-truck with one hand, pulled the door off a car with the other, and pulled a woman to safety. To top it all off, I was growing. Something odd was definitely happening. I got out of my car and surveyed my garden. Hell of a storm, but only a few small branches broken. I looked to my left and noticed that the pile of large stones was substantially smaller than before. Someone had certainly been working, but I could find no evidence of workmen or equipment. They must have all left when the storm hit full force. All I saw now was the wall, almost 2/3 complete, covered in plastic for protection from the rain. “Hey, Max!” “Jason! Hi there, my friend! Long time no see. What are you doing here? I thought you were out in California. Cal State, was it?” “Cal TECH, Max! Totally different. Cal Tech is the premier physics program in the country, probably in the whole world! I’m getting my doctorate in phase-change dynamics, basically the study of energy stored and releases as materials change from solid to liquid and liquid to gas. It probably sounds boring, but the field is actually super interesting and has millions of practical uses. My dissertation looks at techniques that make very strong but rigid materials more pliable under certain conditions. The application could help in the construction of better buildings that are safer in earthquakes. I’m in the home stretch. I’ll be defending my dissertation soon. Right now, I’m just staying next door at Dad’s house while I pitch some ideas to potential New York investors.” “Well, as usual, I’m impressed, Jason. You’ve always been excited about science, and I’m glad you’ve found way to use it to make the world better and safer.” “Yeh. I’m stoked! It’s totally gratifying. Hey, if you’ve got a few minutes, I can show you what we've been working on. I have some prototype models for a seismic moment frame. I’ll be presenting my ideas at a meeting on Friday, and I could really use some feedback on my presentation. Do you think I could practice my presentation on you?” “Sure, Jason. I’d love to catch up and see what you’ve been doing. Give me a few minutes to get cleaned up and changed. I’m just getting home from a night in the city, and I’d like to get settled. Why don’t you go grab your models and meet me back here in 15 minutes?” “Okay, that sounds great. See you in a few.” I jumped in the shower as fast as I could, totally ignoring the mirror for now. No need to get lost in another self-worship fantasy. Jason would be back in a flash. “Hello?” Jason had let himself in and was out in the foyer. Right on time. Fifteen minutes exactly. I should have known a physicist wouldn’t be late. “I’ll be out in a minute, Jason. Just finishing up. Make yourself at home. There’s a pot of coffee brewing in the kitchen. Cups are in the cupboard, or you can turn on the tube.” “Thanks, Max. I’m good for now. I’ll just go out on the terrace and set up the demonstration. If it isn’t a bother, I could use a pot of hot water for the demo.” “Sure, man. I’ll bring one out with me when I come.” When I got out to the terrace, Jason was beaming. “You’re gonna love this, Max. It’s so cool yet so simple. I don’t know why no one has thought of this yet.” A collection of 90-degree two-armed levers were laid out on a table, each labeled with a colored dot. “Okay, so here’s the pitch… “Steel frame construction has dominated the construction of tall buildings for over 120 years. Before 1890, buildings were constructed with wood timber framing, and their heights were limited to 12 stories or fewer. With the development of steel building techniques, however, the heights of buildings have continued to rise. Our current skyscrapers skylines are a result of the virtues of steel. Currently, steel is the only affordable material choice that is strong enough and rigid enough to construct tall buildings. The advantage of steel is its strength and rigidity. However, steel has a weakness that lies in its strength. Because it is rigid, steel lacks flexibility and resilience. When confronted with a strong enough force, it fails by deforming permanently, bending and crumpling rather than flexing and snapping back. “Now, what if we came up with a system for building that provided the strength of steel with flexibility and resilience? Here is where our research comes into play. We have developed a series of alloys of varying “strengths” that are hard and strong like steel under usual circumstances but transform into a more flexible substance when energy is applied. “Max, pick up that first lever, the one with the white dot. Hold it in front of your chest and try to compress it.” I picked up the lever and gave it a good squeeze. “Seems pretty solid.” “Great. As you can see, that lever is strong and unbendable. Now, hand that lever to me.” I gave him the lever, and he held it in front of his chest. He pushed and pulled, too, but the lever did not budge. He then poured hot water over the lever, and the joint bent with ease. He handed it back to me. The lever was now pliable, more like very stiff rubber than steel. As it cooled, the joint stiffened and regained its original shape and rigidity. “Wow! That’s cool.” “Yup. Super cool if you ask me. It’s “flexible steel,” or more precisely, flexible fiber carbon – lighter and stronger than steel but more flexible and resilient than wood.” He beamed. “Now I know you’re thinking that this is all well and good, but who is going to pour hot water on the levers and joints just in time for a building to absorb the shock of an earthquake? That’s where phase-change dynamics comes in. You see, the application of the energy needed to make this material flex does not have to come from heat. The energy and force from a sudden impact, like the shock wave of an earthquake, can transform the material and allow it to respond to the challenge. The stronger the challenge, the greater the response. “Okay, Max, now pick up that next lever, the one with the yellow dot, and try to compress it. Start gently at first, and then increase the pressure.” I started to push. It felt solid at first, but as I squeezed a bit harder, it suddenly gave slightly and then snapped back into shape. “Wow, Jason, that’s pretty cool, but if I can apply enough force to make it transform, it hardly seems strong enough to hold up a building.” “Well, that’s where these other levers come into the demonstration. We’ve found a way to temper the material so that the transformation occurs at various loads, basically allowing us to dial the strength and flexibility up or down depending on the needs of construction. “You look pretty strong, Max. Pick up that next lever, the one with the blue dot, and squeeze it the same as before. The yellow lever transformed at 50lbs of force; the blue one transforms around 100 lbs. You’ll feel the difference.” Same routine, but this time it took a little more work to make the blue lever give. Jason continued, “We estimate we can create a range of materials with load strengths from 10 pounds to 10 million tons, more than enough to hold up the tallest buildings on earth. Try the next one. It should be harder for you. I picked up next lever and started to strain. It was definitely more of a challenge. Since the previous two levers were rated at 50 lbs and 100 lbs, I figured this one was probably 200 lbs, a force I should be able to generate. However, when I pushed and I struggled with all of my might, the lever refused to yield. “Come on, Max. Push! I know the ratings of each of these levers. You should be able to bend that one.” I zeroed my focus on bending the lever. Everything else disappeared. I took a deep breath and squeezed, mustering all of my strength and then some. After a moment, it finally gave. I was sweating and panting when I looked up at Jason. I must have strained longer and harder than I thought. Jason was staring at me with his mouth slightly open. He was panting as well, and his dick was tenting his pants. That’s when I noticed that my sweatshirt was torn at the shoulders and tight on my pecs. I had grown a bit more. My own dick was hard in my pants “Ummm,… Max, I thought you had picked up the lever with the green dot, rated at 200 lbs, but I see that the green lever is still here on the table. What color dot is on the lever you’re holding” I looked down at the lever, turned it over, “Red.” “Red!” Jason responded. “Oh my god, Max. That lever is for another part of the demonstration using a hydraulic compressor. It’s rated at 1600 lbs. No one should be able to bend that lever with their bare hands.” “Well, it wasn’t easy. That’s all I can say.” I looked up again. Jason searched my eyes for an answer but found none there. His gaze then fell from my eyes to my torso. I saw his dick twitch subtly, and a small wet spot appeared on his pants. He reached his hand out. “Your sweatshirt…” “Yeh, looks like it ripped. Not much good anymore.” “You grew,” he said softly, questioning. Busted. No reason to deny it. So I looked straight at Jason and puffed out my chest. “Yeh, I grew.” He swallowed hard, and the wet spot grew larger. “How?” “I don’t know. It’s happened a few times in the past 24 hours.” Motioning to his hardon, I said, “You seem to approve.” He looked down and away, ashamed of his desire. “It’s okay, man. Look at me. I’m hard for you, too. I understand.” He looked up at me tentatively, “Um. I’ve never… um, you know… with a man.” “We’ll take it slow. Just stay with me. I’ll help you.” I brushed his lips softly with mine, and he mumbled something unintelligible. Then he brushed my lips softly with his. The tip of his tongue wetted my mouth. I kissed him more deeply, and he let out a moan. His dick twitched again. “Maybe we should get undressed first.” I reached down and unbuckled his belt , unbuttoned his pants and zipped down his fly. “I always love unwrapping the package.” I didn’t extract his dick at this point because I wanted to prolong the anticipation. I pulled his shirt off over his head. He just stood there unstaring, perfectly still and breathing ever so softly. A shiver spread across his whole body. He was primed. It seemed the slightest movement or even a warm breeze could send him over the edge; so I took a step back and looked at him. I don’t think I had ever really looked at Jason before. To me he had always been a another geeky young man, more the son of one of my neighbors than a whole, real person. Seeing him now, I realized he was kind of a hunk. His face was handsome without being rugged, and his body was tight and athletic, muscular without being “built.” He had broad shoulders and a narrow waist. A swirling pattern of hair spread across his wide chest, narrowing to a silky trail that disappeared in his pants. I moved close behind him and placed my hands on his shoulders. I nuzzled his neck and kissed him there softly. I exhaled my breath as I whispered into his ear, “You have such a beautiful body.” My hands slid from his shoulders to the top of his chest and then made their way down to his waist, grazing his nipples and caressing the smooth skin of his obliques along the way. When I reached the waistband of his boxers, I paused for a second and then slid my hands in. The skin over his hips was smooth and unexpectedly cool, but as I moved my hands forward, I could feel warmth radiating from his cock. Reaching their targets, my left hand caressed his scrotum and lifted his balls, while my right hand encircled his dick. He was big, and his cock was hot and pulsing. I gave a soft squeeze, and it swelled in response. He shuddered, and I thought I might have pushed him too far, but he sucked in a breath and held it. “Not yet,” I said. He threw back his head. “Fuuuuck! More forcefully now, “I said not yet! Hold onto it.” I pulled my hands from his pants and walked around to his front. We were standing face to face, but I was quite a bit taller; so he was staring at my chest. He reached out his hands and let them fall on my pecs. I flexed slightly, and he squeezed back in return. Then making his hands into fists, he pounded my pecs a few times sending shockwaves of pleasure to my core. It was my turn to moan. My dick twitched. “Fuck, you are huge,” he said. “So goddamn thick. Flex your pecs again for me.” I did, only this time I flexed harder, and my pecs rose even thicker and higher. He pounded me some more with his fists, and as he punched harder, I felt the shockwaves at the base of my dick. “God almighty!” He pounded some more and then grabbed my broad shoulders. “You are as big as a mountain and harder than stone.” “You could get a better look if I took off my shirt” He looked up hesitantly. “Okay, What if we just start with the sweatshirt,” I said, grabbing the collar and ripping it clean from my torso. I was now clad in a T-shirt that was oversized yesterday but seemed too small for me now. He grabbed hold of my arms and let out a low whistle. I put my hands on his hips and lifted him up to kiss him again on the mouth. With the exertion, my arms swelled in his hands. He rubbed them, and I flexed even harder. I could feel his hands loosing their grip as I my arms grew. He pushed away from the kiss. “Oh my god! Your arms are so huge. Make a muscle. You know… flex your biceps.” He mimed a gesture of flexing his arm. I made a fist with my left hand and put it on my left hip. Then I made a fist with my right hand and swung my it up in an arc and pulled it down in a powerful single biceps pose. Even unflexed, my arm had a peak. I started to squeeze, and the rounded peak rose. It was bigger than before. It must be at least 24 inches. He grabbed it with both hands and then applied his mouth and his tongue, painting it shiny with spit. I flexed harder for him, and the peak rose even higher, becoming less rounded and splitting into two peaks that struggled for dominance on top of my arm. At the same time, the sweep of my triceps deepened and widened. The effect was devastating. Jason reached in his pants and pulled out his hardon. It was a beauty, 8 full inches and as thick as his wrist. A big glob of precum flowed out of his dick. It twitched involuntarily. He grabbed hold of his shaft, but before he could jack it, I stopped flexing. “No! You will not cum until I let you.” He stopped. A big drop of precum oozed out of his slit and dribbled down his throbbing shaft. He whimpered in protest and frustration. “Urrrggghhhhh!” In truth, I was almost as turned on as Jason. My own cock had worked its way out of my pants and was plastered against my abs to the left of my naval. The head leaked precum that slicked my sixpack and stained the hem of my shirt. We both took a breath. “You okay now?” He nodded. “Then let’s proceed with lats.” I put my fists on my waist and pushed in, at the same time rolling my shoulders forward and flexing hard. It felt like I doubled in width. A tearing sound and the sensation of cool on my back announced another failure of my shirt. I turned around slowly, revealing the tear. Facing away, I pulled the front of my shirt. It gave way in my hands, fully exposing my back and my shoulders. I just stood there a moment. Jason was breathing in irregular short spurts. He was getting closer again. “Wide enough for you?” I flexed hard again, and he bellowed. “Ohhhh Fuuuuuuccckkkkkk!” “Hold onto it, Jason” I commanded. I relaxed and just stood there a moment until the rhythm of his breathing calmed. “Okay, now how about triceps” I grabbed my left wrist with my right hand behind my back and pushed down hard. I felt the muscles contract and jump into relief. The muscles made thick horseshoe shapes on the backs of my arms. I relaxed and then flexed them again. They were so thick. I felt Jason grab hold. I then raised my arms high up over my head, flexed my shoulder and back, and started to turn. When I was halfway around I sucked my gut into a vacuum pose and then brought my arms down in an arc to a most muscular pose as I turned completely to face him. As I flexed, every part of my body expanded with power and size. I looked down and saw sweat-shiny skin and dark fur stretched tight across my huge torso. Thick veins snaked down the fronts of my biceps and divided into a network of veins on my forearms. Before standing up, I pushed my pants to my knees and pushed my cock down. Upon standing, I flexed my thighs and let go, allowing the thick club slap back up against my abdomen with a thud. It was magnificent, now easily 11 inches long and at least 8 inches around. I stood to full height and sucked in my gut, assuming the “relaxed” pose – shoulders out and rotated forward, arms raised just slightly, lats and pecs slightly flexed. I felt strong like Hercules, and I looked like a god. Jason reached out an grabbed hold of my dick. It was slick with precum, and he started to jack. At the same time he took his own cock with his other hand and just held it tight. The head was purple and shiny, and his balls were starting to rise. “Time for the grand finale,” I said. I brought both hands up behind my head. As I did so, I flexed, and my biceps fought for room between my forearms and head. I took a deep breath and then let it all the way out, flexing my abs into six defined cobbles. As I flexed even harder, two more cobbles appeared. Jason was still jacking. I crunched down even more, and my eight-pack became 10. I looked down at my body. There was so much muscle, and my cock was so big. The deluge was coming, I felt the unstoppable urge. As the load built up in my balls and the base of my cock, my whole package expanded, pushing Jason’s fingers apart. That was the last straw for Jason. He could no longer resist and shot load after load of thick, hot, sweet cum across my flexed torso. At the same time, I felt the inevitable pause and then roared as my own cock unloaded and covered Jason in cum.
  23. 21 points
    The Great Branch Warren Fan Fiction Fiasco The long-lasting chewing gum losing its flavour was Miles’ first indication that he had been thinking too long. He’d popped a piece in his mouth when he’d first logged on. Which was – what? Hours ago? The second was the message. MACROLOVER433: Well? A single word, but conveying, in its monosyllabic fashion, an intense irritation. Miles typed back: MUSCLEGODWORSHIPPER26: Sorry. I’m just thinking. MACROLOVER433: You’ve been ‘thinking’ for nearly an hour! A fact supported by the flavourless chewing gum and the tone. He spat the gum out into the bin by his bed, where it settled on the crusty corner of a cum-stained tissue, beside a browning apple core, and started to type back. The old mattress squeaked slightly beneath him. It wasn’t that he’d reached a decision. More that he wanted to move the conversation on so that he could go back to watching videos of Branch Warren flexing his huge muscles on YouTube. Which, if he thought about it for a moment, was probably why his ‘thinking’ had gone on for so long. If those freaky, vein-wreathed thighs weren’t a distraction, splitting into grotesque, sinewy, sweaty mass with every leg press, then those hideous 21-inch biceps were. Like impossible iron-hard mountains of superstrong, thickening muscledaddy brawn. MUSCLEGODWORSHIPPER26: OK. I’ll do it. MACROLOVER433: FUCK YES!! Two exclamation marks. A distinct change in tone. Miles was about to switch back to YouTube - MACROLOVER433 (real name Edward) seemed placated enough for now – when those three little dots started twitching, indicating that his partner was typing. MACROLOVER433: So how big are you going to make him? Miles was about to type ‘I’ll think about it’ (which in all probability would have brought the conversation – and the tone – back to Square #1) when Edward chimed in again: MACROLOVER433: Because you and I both know – fan fiction or not – BRANCH WARREN NEEDS TO GROW BIGGER THAN THE EARTH!!! * Miles had never written fan fiction before, though he’d had more than a few requests from members of the MG forum. He felt it was too restrictive, and preferred to create his own stories and characters from scratch. Using real people was too difficult. Sure, he knew Branch Warren’s stats: 45 years old, 5 foot 6, 245lbs, 21 inch arms, 30 inch thighs, a 34 inch waist, a 56 inch chest. He knew that the bodybuilder worked out at MetroFlex Gym in Texas. He knew that the man was a total stud, the object of his (and doubtless countless others’) muscledaddy fantasies. But he didn’t know anything about Branch’s personality. Where he lived. What he liked to do (besides working out). To convey his character properly, Miles envisioned hours of research ahead of him. He feared too that the more he found out, the harder he would find it to somehow squeeze all of his fantasies into the picture. Edward – or MACROLOVER433 as he went by on Discord – had insisted that this was not the case. MACROLOVER433: You can make it all up. He had typed. Then: MACROLOVER433: The entire fan fiction. No-one on the forum will care – so long as there’s plenty of growth. Miles, sceptical, had requested time to think. And research footage of Branch Warren lifting huge weights, his gargantuan, rippling mass pumping up huge and sexy as hell. And fapping. Twice. Before he had been drawn back to the conversation by the dull taste of gum and the ping of MACROLOVER433’s irritation. He could make it all up? He could do anything with the character, so long as Branch retained his greed for mass? He could ignore reality itself? This was like Fake News, only hotter. He returned to the Discord chat with one final line, something to appease Edward until the first chapter of the story was written. MUSCLEGODWORSHIPPER26: Bigger than the Earth? He smirked as his fingers tapped the keyboard. MUSCLEGODWORSHIPPER26: Heh, that’ll just be the BEGINNING! * The fan fiction was easier to type than he had imagined. He prepared the usual way: glass of wine on the bedside table, pile of pillows propped up on the bed behind him, laptop sat on the plump camel-pattern cushion on the duvet before him. Legs crossed. Blinds drawn. Bedroom door closed. Miles knew that other writers had weird rituals like this. Amis, Hemingway, Woolf. It made him feel that – in his own small way – he could count himself among their number. Though the topics he wrote about would probably have curled Hemingway’s toenails. The story started the usual way. Miles preferred gym settings as they allowed him to get straight to the good stuff: a description of the bodybuilder’s bulging musculature straining and swelling with thick mass as he pumped out rep after rep of iron. As for the catalyst for the growth, Miles chose a magic spell. Over the course of his career as a writer of muscle growth stories, he had grown fictional bodybuilders with experimental roids, with science fiction lasers, with genie wishes. Magic was his preferred method. For one thing, nobody picked apart magic in the comments section after he’d posted the story online. One commenter who viewed himself as something of a nanobot expert had written a scathing thesis on why said nanobots were an unrealistic method of growing a bodybuilder, after Miles had published a story where a bodybuilder got his hands on some and proceeded to use them to become bigger than the moon. The thesis had ended up longer than the story itself – and had almost as many likes. Since then, Miles had steered clear of nanobots, and had tried to avoid science in general. Magic was safe territory. Miles’ fingers flew over the keyboard as he wrote about a fan of Branch Warren who happened to be a wizard, who had snuck into the gym to meet his idol. Miles used adjectives such as ‘weak’, ‘frail’ and ‘puny’ to describe the wizard through Branch’s eyes as he trembled before the bodybuilder, stuttering through an explanation of the growth spell he was proposing to cast on the herculean musclebeast. Miles liked size disparity in his stories. He took a sip of wine. Branch Warren finished his set, heaved the monumental weight back on the rack with a clang, and looked down at the little man over his swollen, striated pecs, stretching the material of his muscle vest to breaking point. His thick nipples – visible through the sweat-drenched material – twitched excitedly, belying the casual, steady attitude of the hulking bodybuilder. Yes, that would do. Miles described the little man’s offer, peppering the dialogue with manly grunts from the bodybuilder. The wizard had perfected a growth spell and wanted to try it out. And – as a long-time fan of Branch Warren – he couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather try it out on. Miles would definitely do the same thing in his position. Branch, of course, was greedy. Miles loved growth-hungry bodybuilders. “How big will it make me?” He asked. There was a hungry light in his dark eyes. “Er…I don’t know,” the puny wizard admitted. “I’ve never tried it before. But certainly bigger than you are now.” He shuffled a little, as though uncomfortable in his robes. Again, Miles knew that if he steered clear of specifics, it would build anticipation in his readers. MACROLOVER433 – and whoever else scrolled through this chapter on the MG forum – would be on the edge of their seats at this point, cocks in hand. Branch acquiesced. Miles described the bodybuilder’s cock – eight inches when hard, he imagined (but BOY was it going to grow SO MUCH BIGGER very soon) – throbbing deliciously with the thought of growing even more massive. The two men went into the privacy of the locker room. Miles spent a bit of time describing the smells of Branch’s muscle-sweat now that the two characters were in a smaller, more confined room, and started boning up himself. He always tried to write using as many senses as possible, to make it seem to his readers that they were actually there, experiencing this first-hand. He took a larger glug of wine, impatient to continue the story. And then then wizard cast the spell. A ripple of sinewy power spread through Branch’s clenched physique. The sheer mass of his pecs – already swollen from the workout – threatened to burst free from the bodybuilder’s paper-thin skin as the musclegod’s brawn began to thicken majestically. Within moments, his pectoral shelf had RIPPED through the flimsy material of the muscle vest, revealing the eight squeezing, thickening, symmetrical cubes of his abdominals, covered in veins. And still the bodybuilder got bigger, and BIGGER. Miles topped him off at six and a half feet. Thanks to giantdimensions.com, he could easily calculate Branch’s stats at this new height. 383lbs of muscle. Jesus. 24-inch biceps. Miles spent some time describing Branch greedily flexing both arms in a double bicep flex, admiring the steely mountains of brawn, lost in self-worship. 35-inch thighs, a 39-inch waist, a 65-inch chest. Whoa. Miles reached into his briefs and began working his cock at the thought… …and then paused. Wait, shouldn’t the spell include muscle growth, rather than just size growth? Miles released his cock, which by now was at full mast, and retyped the stats to reflect a surge in muscle growth. A big surge. 483? No - 583lbs of muscle. Fuck! It was good to keep the number odd. To Miles, it felt more realistic. Comparatively. 39-inch biceps, 51-inch thighs, a 63-inch waist…a 105-inch chest. YES! Miles was furiously tugging on his member now, whilst typing with his left hand. His laptop bounced around with the movements as he described the wizard only coming up to Branch’s magnificent pecs. Pecs that throbbed with sinewy POWER. And the cock – he couldn’t forget Branch’s cock! A swollen 13 inches of man now – holy shit – its monstrous outline, like some terrible, twitching arm, was bulging erotically in the bodybuilder’s straining gym shorts. A thick vein, throbbing excitedly, was visible through the material. “Hmmm.” Branch looked down at his grotesquely muscled form, shimmering with sweat. The deep sinews of his bronzed, thickening pecs rippled with every word. The air of the locker room was hot, and thick now with his raw scent. “Is that all?” The thumb and forefinger on Miles’ left hand just managed to hold shift + 2 to close the speech marks before he shuddered into orgasm and nearly blacked out with the force. He didn’t even have time to grab a tissue. He just came violently into his boxer briefs. * Some time later, Miles posted the chapter on the forum, with a blub at the top in italics dedicating it to MACROLOVER433. He wasn’t one for clever titles; he thought they reeked of desperation. His cum still cooling in his squelching briefs, he gave the story a basic title: Branch Warren Growth, Chapter One. He clicked the tags for muscle growth, magic and macro. He finished the glass of wine. And then, moving his laptop to one side of the bed, chucking all bar one of the pillows on the floor along with the camel pattern cushion, he lay back, switched off the light and drifted off, the mattress creaking faintly beneath him. The ping of Discord woke him. Jesus, had he left his laptop on? He rolled over, head fuzzy, aching (despite the pillows, he had hunched over the keyboard the night before and now his whole spine felt sore) and hit the space bar. The screen swam into life. Through bleary eyes he peered at the message. Edward’s eagerness seemed to echo Branch’s in the story. MACROLOVER433: Just read your story, man. Hot AF. Is he going to grow bigger? Miles chuckled. Of course he was. Hadn’t he promised to grow Branch bigger than the Earth? Part of him wanted to go to the MG forum, to see who else had seen his story and liked it, or maybe even left a comment. But first his eye was drawn to the next tab along – YouTube. He was too drained and too sleepy to fap any more to Branch Warren’s videos, but seeing the muscleman’s huge, striated physique would be a great way to start the day. A sort of cup of coffee for the libido. Miles glanced at the clock in the corner of the screen. Shit, 11.23? He shouldn’t have stayed up so late writing; now he’d missed half the day! Ah, who was he kidding? He sat up and pulled the laptop to him. It was worth it. He took a glug from the water cannister by his bedside to get rid of the sour taste of wine lingering on his woolly tongue. Whoa, a new video? Branch hardly posted at all. Miles usually waited until he was horny with anticipation before checking out new muscle videos, but the title of the video – CRAZY GAINZZZZ – tempted him. He recognised MetroFlex gym, shot through a video phone. The camera was panning around the gym and a loud clanking sound could be heard, reverberating through the room and causing Miles to turn the volume on his laptop down. The screen seemed to shake a little with every clank. There was a roar, the sound of inhuman muscle powering impossible weights. Then the camera stopped panning and settled on a sight that made Miles sit up. Branch Warren, shirtless, was bench-pressing an obscene amount of metal. The thick iron bar bowed in the middle as the massive bodybuilder heaved the great clanking mass up for one slow, shuddering rep after another. There was so much weight on either end of the bar, the sound of the iron rattling about was palpable. The man looked HUGE. The last video Miles had seen was taken only a fortnight ago, and that Branch Warren was nowhere near as big – or as strong – as this one. His pecs rippled magnificently on his naked, bronze chest, undulating as though titanium bands were roiling beneath the surface. Without even touching himself, Miles found himself getting hard again. His cock only got harder when the big man racked the weight – causing another CLANK to shudder through the gym – and stood up. Holy crap. Was he…taller too? The man was a giant. He’d always looked big, on account of his extreme muscle mass. But now, Branch looked freaking TITANIC. He chuckled, looking down contemptuously at the camera, like he knew that his millions of fans would be getting off on his new hugeness. His monstrous pecs twitched of their own accord, like he couldn’t stop them, like they were eager, hungry for more growth. “Weighed myself at 583 pounds this morning,” his handsome face smirked. He clenched his chest, the grotesque mass thickening hideously, and pointed an arrogant finger at the screen. “Now THOSE are some fucking GAINZZZZ, ha ha!” He might have been about to say something else, but Miles clicked pause. 583lbs? Five. Hundred. And eighty. Three. On the dot. Just like his story. What the hell? Reaching into his briefs, hard as steel, perhaps harder than he had ever been in his life, Miles began to stroke his member. Maybe, he thought, his mind caught between trying to rationalise the clip he had just watched and the erotic impossibility of it all. Maybe writing fan fiction wasn’t so bad after all. And tonight he’d begin Chapter 2.
  24. 21 points
    Chapter Two I left the gym feeling extra mischievous after making that poor guy loose his load but more than that, I was starving. I drove to a nearby restaurant and grabbed a seat near the back. I downed the remains of the protein shake I had with me when the waiter showed up. I looked up from the menu to see his eyes bulging out of his head. I was wearing an outrageously huge hoodie that while the excess fabric billowed around me, could not disguise the sheer size of my body. The poor guy looked like he was trying to talk but words were not coming out. “I’ll take three of the biggest steaks you have, two orders of mashed potatoes and an order of large scrambled eggs to start.” I said. The waiter only shook his head and scurried towards the kitchen. I couldn’t help but smile. As I waited for the food to arrive, I surveyed the restaurant. It was quite deserted but I did spot a guy sitting at the front counter who kept looking in my direction. He was probably in his mid-forties and looked like your typical truck driver, flannel shirt, jeans and a baseball cap. From where I was sitting I could tell he was a solid individual. He had big, round shoulders, a thick neck and his jeans stretched tightly around some very sizeable quads. The waiter rushed by and placed a glass of water on my table without allowing me the chance to ask for a coffee. I let out a sigh as he disappeared back to the kitchen. I looked around the room to see if I could grab another waiter’s attention when I say the trucker approaching me, carrying two cups of coffee. “The service here can be shit sometimes. Did you want a coffee?” He asked. “Yeah, I do. Thanks.” I said as he placed one of the cups on the table. I waved my hand to the seat across from me and the guy sat down. In most situations, he would have been considered a huge beast of a man. Sitting only a foot away from me, I could now see he wasn’t just big, he was all muscle. Unfortunately for him, I was present, making him appear downright puny. “Bret.” He said and extended a large beefy paw. “Chad” I replied, extended my own, far larger hand. Before we had a chance to talk more, my numerous plates of food arrived. The two waiters needed to carry it all timidly placed them on the table. I wasted no time cutting into one of the thick, juicy steaks. “Damn, that’s a shit ton of food! You better watch out or you’ll get even fatter.” Bret said causing me to drop my fork and knife. “Oh man! I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I can tell you are one huge SOB but I’m a bodybuilder so I know a lot about nutrition and I just meant, too much unhealthy food will add too much fat to your body. If you dieted a little, you could be ripped like me.” He said and pulled up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal his forearm and part of his bicep. He flexed his arm, causing some veins to pop out. “How big?” I asked. “21 inches” Bret said beaming with pride. I couldn’t help but smirk as I slowly took a sip of coffee. I placed the mug on the table and slowly started to pull the loose fabric of my hoodie up my arm. “That’s great Bret. You should be proud of yourself. You clearly know your shit.” I said sarcastically as my wrist and lower forearm came into view. I didn’t have to look at Bret to know where the whimpering sound was coming from. Thick slabs of muscle appeared to fall out of the sweater as veins thicker than plumbing pipes were exposed. With barely a twitch of my wrist, deep striations and muscle bellies leapt to life causing the fabric to become tight as I continued to push the sleeve higher. I could only expose my forearm before the bunched up fabric refused to move any farther but that was plenty. Once exposed, the writhing slabs of muscle on my forearm looked like a sack full of giant cobras. The sheer mass of the one appendage looked nothing like a human forearm but rather like a science experiment you’d see in an alien movie. I started to roll my wrist in semi circles so each muscle would become fully flexed and then relaxed. “I see your 21 inch bicep and raise you a 22 inch forearm.” I said. I looked at Bret, his face was as white as a ghost and his jaw hung open. “So, what were you saying about diet and being ripped?” The poor guy looked like he was about to piss himself. “You see Bret, it was pretty naive of you to think that I was fat just because I take up this whole booth and I’m wearing this huge fucking sweater. Do you really want to know why I’m dressed like this? Well, there are two reasons. First, I’m sick of having to buy new clothes every few weeks so I bought this one as big as possible so it would last a little longer. Second, if I walked in here without this sweater on, everyone in this place would loose their minds at the sight of me.” “Yo-you-you’re a freak.” Bret said in barely a whisper. “Oh Bret, now I need to show you just how much a freak I am. I hope you remember after today that it’s never a good idea to judge people too quickly.” I said as I pushed the table towards him until it was jammed into his stomach and slowly stood up. Bret’s eye’s grew wide as he started to fully comprehend just how massive I was. I grabbed the zipper on the front of the sweater and slowly began to pull. Once open, I resisted pulling the fabric apart, I wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath so I knew he could only see a strip of my flesh; which was more than enough. “Oh my god.” He said as he stared at my impossibly thick pecs and abs. They were barely exposed but he could tell they looked more defined than any muscle on his entire body. I looked around the restaurant and saw the other customers looking in my direction so I grabbed both sides of the open sweater and pulled them apart. I heard gasps. One final tug of the sweater allowed it to uncover my gargantuan shoulders. I let it fall to the floor around my feet. That’s when the screaming began. First from a woman a few tables way, then from a waiter and finally from Bret. “NO! There is no way you are that big!” He bellowed and tried to move the table so he could get away from me. I looked down at him but could only see from his eyes up because my inflated pecs obstructed the rest of his body. “Oh Bret, what you’re seeing is real.” I said and slowly maneuvered into a crab most muscular pose. Instantly, every muscle responded by inflating in size. I could feel every fibre spring to life as blood started to fill the outrageous network of veins that covered every inch. My traps pressed against my ears and my pecs swelled to graze my chin. I felt my waist expand as my abs tightened like the cables used to support bridges. My biceps swelled so large, I could feel them come in contact with my bloated forearms. As I reached full flex, I could feel my ridiculously wide lats literally wrapping around my body. For added effect, I leaned down and let out a low, rumbling growl that made the table vibrate. As expected, the restaurant erupted in chaos. I heard plates smashing, people screaming and the sound of movement towards the door but I didn’t look up; I remained focused on Bret. His whole body was convulsing. He had a look of terror in his eyes but I could see he couldn’t look away. “Yeah Bret, try to take in all this massive muscle. Have you ever seen anything so fucking sick? Just look at this wall of mass and power.” “P-p-please s-s-stop.” He pleaded. With one final grunt, I relaxed the pose although even unflexed, I remained the same massive size. I reached down and grabbed two full steaks and starting tearing huge chucks off, letting the juices drip down my chin. I surveyed the room which was practically empty. I spotted a waiter cowering in the corner while feverishly stoking his cock. I walked over to him and flexed my blood-engorged bicep in his face. He let out a loud moan and sprayed a huge load all over his uniform. “Fuck yeah! This kid gets it. He knows there is nothing hotter than HUGE, MASSIVE, FREAKY MUSCLE.” I yelled. I returned to Bret, who was now standing. Drool dripped from his mouth as he continued to shake like a leaf. I noticed that he was a few inches taller than my 5’10” height but that only made my far superior size that much more incredible. “It’s a shame Bret. When I spotted you across the restaurant, I thought you had potential to be a real muscle fan but clearly you can’t handle what REAL muscle should look like.” I said as I picked up my sweater and walked out the front door with a huge smile on my face.
  25. 20 points
    The Wall, chapter 12 “Mason” It was late, but I finally had a plan. I texted Daphne: “Sorry it’s so late. You can deal with this in the morning if you prefer, but I’m in a bit of a bind. I need to go to Amsterdam on short notice. Cancel the rest of my week, and book me one first class ticket JFK-AMS tomorrow evening. I’ll be returning with Pup on Sunday, so we’ll need return tickets together. I’d like the penthouse at the DeWitt if you can book it. Also, I need an invitation the KPNG gala at the Van Gogh museum Thursday evening. Thanks, Daph. I know how much you do for me, even though you make it look like child’s play. I’d walk hot coals for you. Max.” Twenty minutes later, my phone pinged with a text from Daphne. “Max, hot coals are child’s play compared to your list. However, it’s done. A car will pick you up at your house in Kings Point at 16:00 tomorrow. Your driver will deliver your complete itinerary, including an invitation to the Van Gogh event. (It’s black tie - be prepared.) Your flight: KLN#646 JFK- AMS, seat 2A, departing 18:30, arriving 11:20 Thursday. AMS driver will meet you on the other side of passport control and take you to the DeWitt. You’re in the penthouse till Sunday. Information on your returns will be included in your itinerary. You owe me. I like diamonds. Just in case you forget, I’ll start heating the coals now. -D” Relieved and exhausted, I turned out the light and crawled into bed. I thought I’d be asleep before my head hit the pillow. However, sleep never came. I guess my exhaustion had been more of an expectation than a reality. In fact, I felt strangely energized and refreshed. I rose from bed and ventured outside. The cool air slapped my skin lightly, stiffening my spine and awakening my senses. It was perfectly silent save for the sounds of my bare feet on the pavement and path. The ground smelled fertile and pungently sweet, and the air smelled of fresh recent rain and herbaceous new growth. The moon cast a silver luminescence over the garden and a play of shadows and iridescent highlights brought inanimate objects to life. The trees took a breath as a soft wind lifted their branches and then exhaled as the breeze gently settled. Rustling flowers and leaves tickled my ankles and calves, and a few brazen branches took swipes at my ass and my thighs. I heard the whispers of awakening plants, stretching and yawning as they pushed forth from their slumber. A cool breeze tickled my back side and hardened my nipples. The garden beckoned. It was as if it were trying to seduce me, drawing me deeper. Curiosity and an unknown desire propelled me along the garden path until I reached the clearing that was bounded on the far side by the wall. Another breeze ruffle the plastic tarp that protected the wall. The tarp rose up slightly, exposing the mass of the lower rows of stone. The work was immense and precise. Each stone had been expertly cleft, and the rocks fit neatly and tightly together, as if they were made for each other, like an enormous jigsaw puzzle. Craftsmanship. I pulled back the tarp and inspected. The rocks were more massive than I had remembered. They smelled of lichen and dew and the minerality of earth. In the silvery moonlight, the wall was revealed as a monument of strength. Far from the animated plants of the garden, the wall was just solid and unyielding. I laid my hands on the stones, and I was growing again, this time more profoundly than before. It was not just my size that was increasing. It was also my gravity and my density. My shoulders and back broadened, and my chest deepened. My glutes and thighs and calves thickened. Deltoids, triceps and biceps rounded atop one another, and my pecs ballooned amply but not grotesquely. My forearms thickened, and a network of large veins crisscrossed my arms from my wrists to my elbows. A large cephalic vein capped each biceps. The pelt of swirling dark hair thickened across my chest, abdomen, forearms and legs and formed a dense forest in my arm pits and groin. The feeling of growth was intoxicating. My muscles tightened; my cock thickened and lengthened and started to rise. A breeze like warm breath blew on my neck. The wind inhaled and then exhaled again. Then I took note. It wasn’t the wind. Strong, warm hands gripped my deltoids and started to rub. I felt warm breath and the radiant heat of a human form close to my back. Chest hairs tickled my back, and the slow ascent of a large phallus traced the curves of my hamstrings and ass. The man moaned softly in a voice so rich and so deep that it spread over me like honey. He kissed the side of my neck just below my right ear, and his breath warmed the tops of my traps and my pecs. His hands made their way down my arms to my biceps and squeezed. “I do nice work, don’t you think?” I shivered and nodded. I didn’t know if he meant the wall or my body, but the answer was the same. His work was perfection. This man was my maker, and the hierarchy was clear. “Flex,” he softly commanded, and I raised my right fist in an arc, twisting it inward and forcing the peak to rise further. He caressed the mound slowly and traced the curve with his hand. Then he squeezed, and the muscle indented. Instinctively, I flexed harder, momentarily overcoming his grasp, but he tightened his grip and dented the muscle again. “Double biceps,” he said slightly louder and more resonate. I raised my left arm to match my right, and the mighty peak rose in perfect symmetry. Grabbing both peaks tightly, his fingers indented the muscle. Again, I fought back, redoubling my flex, and his fingers were pushed outward and spread slightly more. “That’s right. Resist me and grow.” I flexed as hard as I could, not just my arms but also my traps and my shoulders and back, my glutes and my thighs. The muscles thickened a bit more, and my density increased. My cock thickened and shuddered, and precum drooled down it’s shaft. I could feel the man’s own slicked cock pushing against the crack of my ass, and a drop of his nectar rolled slowly inside. His right hand gripped my cock as his left hand found my nipple. The pleasure that it sent through my body broke the resolve of my pose. He spun me around and placed his hands on my chest. It was the first time I had seen him. I gasped. He was bigger than I, taller and wider. He was more rugged than handsome. His exaggerated muscles were stacked on his frame slab upon slab, perfectly melded into a monument of strength, like the stones on the wall. He kissed me hard on the mouth and roughly grabbed at my chest. He brutally massaged my pecs, testing their thickness and density. I flexed back harder and harder and felt my chest thicken. He made his hands into fists, and he punched at my chest and my abs. I flexed in defense, and his pounding grew harder. My body responded. Ten cobblestone abs were rounded as the cuts separating them deepened. The relief map of my abs and obliques grew more sharply defined. He grabbed my cock and gave it gentle tug. “Nice…” he hummed. I sucked in a breath. Oh my god, I wanted to hold out, but I feared I could not. I was so overstimulated. Then he tightened his grip and commanded, “Not yet. We’re not through.” I held my breath. The urge receded. Then, it was my turn. I took his cock in my hand and started jack it. He groaned gutturally, and copious precum oozed from the slit, glazing his hardon with shiny, slick honey. I grabbed hold of his arm, and I asked him to flex it. He shook his head no, “Not yet. You’re not ready,” and then he chuckled and said, “or maybe you’re too ready. You can’t handle it now … Patience.” With that, he got down on his knees and started massaging and kneading my legs. He worked over my quads, hamstrings and calves. I responded by flexing with all of my worth and was rewarded with visible growth. Then came the pounding of his fists on my thighs that resulted in deepening cuts and increased definition. It was as if the mason were adding more stone and then sculpting it into perfection. His hands ventured higher, firmly stroking the lower extent of my glutes. I could feel my ass muscles lifting and flexing. He moved his hands higher, to the meatier part of my ass, grabbing each globe and massaging the mass of each muscle. Occasionally his fingers would wander deep enough in my crack to graze and tickle my perineum, but his concentration was on the muscle. He squeezed, and I flexed so hard the muscle cramped and exploded with size. Kneeling in front, he began sucking and licking my balls. Long brush strokes each ended at the base of my cock. I was as hard as I had ever been. I was leaking profusely, and he seemed to enjoy the trickle of precum as it dripped to the base of my shaft. “You taste good. I’m going to enjoy making you cum.” My cock continued to shudder and drip. He stood. He was taller than I and more muscular than any man I had ever seen. He closed the distance between us, our chests touching, our breaths mingling, and our erections wrestling for space. “There now. That’s better, isn’t it? You wanted me to flex?” he asked coyly. I whimpered and nodded. “Oh god, yes.” “I think I want to kiss you first. Would that be alright?” “Umm hmmph,” I managed. He started gently at first, just brushing his lips against mine and then moistening my lips with his tongue. Then he invaded my mouth with his tongue and kissing me strongly and deeply. I felt his hand on the back of my head, pulling me in. My own hand reached up and felt the arm I had longed to explore. Even unflexed it was massive. He pulled back from me just a bit and nodded toward my object of lust. “Oh yeh. The kiss was so nice that I almost forgot… You wanted me to flex this for you, didn’t you?” I nodded “Are you ready?… My mouth went dry. “One…” he held his arm out straight and rotated it back and forth, causing the biceps and triceps to wobble the same way some competitive bodybuilders wobble their quads. “Two…” he gripped his hand into a fist, sending a wave of stiffening flexion and vascularity up his arm from his waist to his shoulder. The wobbling masses of his biceps and triceps solidified into striated, immovable flesh. I reached out and stroked the warm granite. A drop of precum appeared at the head of my cock and rolled down the shaft. He dropped his arm for a moment and retrieved the drop on one finger, licking it seductively in a single, long stroke, savoring my taste. “Two and a half…” He stood erect, resuming his previous pose. “I’m going to change your world.” He cocked his head, bit his lip, and raised an eyebrow… “Three!” He snapped his arm to a 90 degree angle and flexed. His biceps started to rise, filling the space between his elbow and shoulder with a boulder of granite that could more than satisfy the most ardent of biceps aficionados. It was magnificent in its angular roundness, beautifully peaked and as tall as it was wide. The graceful sweep of his triceps completed the package, perfectly balancing the peak of his biceps above. Cum built at the base of my shaft, and I sucked in a breath to stave off my first volley just one second more. Then to my surprise, he straightened his arm and flexed it again. “Four!” This time the peak rose higher. He straightened and flexed it again. “Five!” The peak was clearly higher than it was wide, and it now split into two distinct peaks, looking more like a twin mountain than a single granite boulder. I steadied myself, grabbing the colossal arm with my hand and assaulting it with my mouth and my tongue. I started to cum. The first two volleys shot from my cock with such volume and force that I could feel the wave of ejaculate travel from the base to the tip. My knees buckled, and I clung to the huge biceps for support. I had never cum so hard in my life. The third shot was just loading at the base of my dick when I heard him arrogantly grunt … “Six! Seven! Eight! Nine!... Ten!” He repeatedly flexed, and the peak rose higher. The peak was now at the level of his wrist, and his deltoid and forearm had also expanded. His triceps swept low. My cock jerked wildly, spraying cum in a thousand directions. I felt his first shot, too, and then I saw stars and lost consciousness. I awoke in my bed to the usual sound of my alarm. The sheets were thrown over me, and I could feel a mixture of dry crust and cold sticky cum coating my torso. Had it all been a dream? My bedroom door to the terrace was ajar. I peeked out at the garden. In the early dawn light, I could make out the wall. It was finished. I threw back the sheet. I was bigger.
  26. 20 points
    Russel had never felt more out of place. He was a shrimp in a hall of ripped muscle gods. It seemed like everyone at this gym had been going regularly for years, and here he was entering a gym for the first time since P.E. class in middle school. It didn’t help that his work out shirt was comically huge on him. Russel was half tempted to go home and change… or maybe just go home altogether, but he had promised his pal he would at least try to start a gym regimen. In many ways it was only because of Russel’s friend that he was even here today. Russel had long said he was going to start working out. He had always dreamed of having a big, buff body like he saw in the magazines, but he just never seemed to put on any muscle when he tried lifting weights at home. He doubted even having access to professional lifting equipment would help his case at all either, but Russel’s pal, Kurt, was insistent he at least try. Kurt even went so far as to give Russel a new set of workout clothes, a shirt and jockstrap, for Christmas to help him kick off his fitness journey, and it was that outfit that Russel was wearing to the gym this very afternoon. The shirt was a seemingly standard muscle shirt with the caption “Loading Muscles…” on the front as well as a comical loading bar underneath the text. The loading bar was actually completely empty which seemed almost like a cruel joke to the poor, puny Russel. To make matters worse, the shirt was so huge that it hung loosely off of Russel’s wimpy frame. Russel still wasn’t sure if he was wearing it because it was a gift from a cherishes friend, or because he was just too cheap to buy something for himself, or even if he was just motivated by sheer spite, but that hardly seemed to matter at this point. His oversized shirt just made him feel even punier than ever, and his shirt wasn’t the only spacious part of his attire. His jockstrap was a little extra roomy around the Netherlands as well. Russel’s painfully average cock just wasn’t up to the task of filling the ample pouch of the “Enhance” brand strap. Fortunately, he had an old pair of jogging short on over top of the strap so nobody else had to know about his shortcomings in that department. Figuring that even the longest journey begins with a few steps, Russel made his way over to the treadmill. He might not know much about lifting weights, but he did at least know how to jog so the treadmill seemed as good a place as any to get the ball rolling. Russel quickly settled into a routine of jogging along at a reasonable pace while scrolling through a beginner’s guide to working out on his phone. It was strange. He expected to get winded pretty easily since he had never been the most athletic dude, but the more he jogged, the more energized he felt. He felt like he could run nonstop for days! But before he even realized the timer on the treadmill dinged to alert him that he had done a respectable warm-up. Russel hopped off the treadmill and decided to put the newbie guide to weightlifting he had been perusing to good use and made his way towards the weight room. The weight room had tons of mirrored walls all around the place. Try as he might, Russel couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of his own reflection. When he saw himself, he did a double take. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something seemed different. He wasn’t what he would call fit by any stretch of the imagination, but he was looking healthier than when he had walked in. He chalked it up to the rush of endorphins from the jog and the slight sheen of sweat which had settled onto his skin, but there was something else afoot that he had not yet begun to realize. Russel quickly adjusted his oversized shirt and went back to focusing on his next workout, completely missing the fact that the loading bar on his shirt now had an almost imperceptibly small bit of blue filling the otherwise empty loading bar. The first exercise on his to-do list was a few simple bicep curls. Russel figured he’s be ahead to start light and grabbed one of the smallest set of dumbbells he could find, but after a few experimental curls he quickly realized that five pounds was far, far too light. He quickly moved up to ten and then fifteen pounds and found that those were too light as well. He was surprised to say the least. The guide he was reading didn’t suggest going above fifteen pounds for a lightweight beginner like himself, but here he was hefting a thirty pounder like it was nothing. Perhaps even more surprising was the bulge of a bicep the poked out when he reached the highest point of his curls. Russel was amazed by what he saw. It was a muscle! He had an actual muscle! It was small, sure, but everyone had to start somewhere, and the fact that he actually had some sort of muscle definition to show off on his first day at the gym was beyond a miracle. Perhaps he had not given himself enough credit. He tended to carry a few heavy books around campus. Maybe his nerdery was good for something after all. Russel was not about to rest on his laurels just yet though. If anything, this newfound discovery spurred him on to work out even more. If just a few bicep curls could bring out his latent muscles, just imagine what a regular routine could do! He could be buffed like those babes on the cover of Men’s Health in no time! After what he assumed to be a suitable amount of reps, Russel put up his barbells and made his way towards the bench press station, completely unaware that his loading bar had gained a few more pixels in the past few minutes. Russel loaded the bar on the weight rack with what he thought would be a safe and easy starter weight, and laid down to do a few reps. To his surprise, the bar was incredibly light! He wasted no time in adding more weight to it and trying another few reps. Again, the bar was too light. Before he knew it, he had doubled and then tripled the starting weight before he began to feel even a little strain from lifting. He was so amazed by the amount of weight he was benching that he almost didn’t notice the bulges forming in front of him… almost… Russel’s jaw dropped when he caught sight of the mounds in front of him. From where he was lying he had a front row view of his own chest and could see two very clearly defined pectoral muscles. He had pecs! Sure, they weren’t he hugest pecs he had ever seen. They would even be classified as fairly small by most of the muscleheads at the gym, but they were there, and they were his! He couldn’t believe his eyes. He quickly got up from the bench and turned to check himself out in one of the mirrors on the wall. There was no denying what he was seeing. He was cut! He wasn’t bulky by any stretch of the imagination, but he had some honest-to-god muscles on his body. He had a lean, lithe, swimmer’s build. Russel could barely fathom what he was seeing. He had gained a noticeable amount of muscle since he had arrived, but how!? As if to answer his question something caught his eye. A slight movement down below… Russel glanced down at the reflection of his shirt, and for the first time he noticed the additional blue on the loading bar. “Loading Muscles…” indeed, and from the look of things, he had a long way left to go! The loading bar had barely even begun to fill in. If he was this cut with just a little bit of bulking, he could hardly imagine how huge he’d be when he was done! The sheer thought of it sent a shiver of excitement up his spine and surge of excitement down his groin. Russel quickly adjusted himself down there. His chubby was feeling particularly cramped in the confines of his running shorts, but he paid it no mind. He was far too enthralled by his muscles to worry about a little thing like that. Russel couldn’t wait for more muscles to stack on. His mind was racing with ideas of just how huge he’d grow and how to speed up the process. Was there some sort of catalyst besides the shirt? Did pumping the old irons cause him to bulk up faster? He didn’t know for sure, but he knew there was no harm in trying. If nothing else the rush of endorphins and the pump that came with a good rep was starting to go to his head. He couldn’t wait to really test the limits of what his body was capable of. Russel glanced around the gym for the next station he would try out. There were so many options. He was like a kid in a candy store. Eventually his eyes fell upon the simple, unassuming bar attached to the far wall. A pull up bar. Such a simple device, and yet so full of promise. Russel had never in his life successfully performed a pull up. He was shaking with anticipation as he placed his hands on the bar, and then with the greatest of ease he pulled himself up so that his chin was over the bar. It felt so effortless that he might as well have been picking up a tissue. He could scarcely believe that the pull up bar had been the bane of his middle school existence. He remembered struggling and straining for half an hour to accomplish even a single chin up, but now he was effortlessly doing a chin up and beyond. He could pull himself all the way up until the bar hit his chest. Russel was so caught up in the rush that he did another pull up and another and another. He was a well-oiled pull up machine. He kept going up and down like a pistol, completely unaware of how his body was changing. His muscles were thickening all around him, and weight was packing on elsewhere as well. By the time the rush finally died down and he dropped down from the push up bar, he was feeling something very strange indeed. It was tough for him to put his finger on it at first. It was a strange pressure around his legs and groin, but all it took was a look in the mirror to put two and two together. His shorts were getting incredibly tight on his bulking frame! Russel was amazed at what he saw. During his brief stint on the pull up bar he had gone from twink to twunk! He went from a lean, cut, swimmer’s build to having a thick body that would grace the cover of a fitness magazine. He had quads that would amaze a quarterback! His formerly airy running shorts now dug into his thick thighs, but it wasn’t just his muscles that were filling his briefs to the brim. It was plain to see that his dick had grown as well. Russel could only stand and stare in awe at the outline of his own cock and balls that now pressed so hard against the front of his shorts that he could see the very shape and size of them. He could scarcely believe that thick set of sausage and eggs was his! He had a schlong that had to be closing in on a foot long and every bit as thick as his wrist and a pair of softball sized stones to match! It was hard to believe that just mere moments ago he had had trouble filling out his jock strap. Now he looked like he’d be spilling out in the very near future. Russel couldn’t wait to work out more and grow even larger. He already had the body of his dreams, but still, he wanted to be even bigger, and if the loading bar was any indication he had a ways to go yet. Russel didn’t want to waste any time moving onto the next exercise and getting any bigger. He turned and set up shop at the very next station his eyes fell upon – the pull downs. Russel sat down on the seat and glanced up at the bar above his head. Despite how swole he was looking, he was still pretty much a newbie when it came to working out so he was glad to see that there were guide marks on the bar telling him where to place his hands for ideal results. Russel wasted no time getting to work. He placed his hands where the marks said to and began to pull down on the bar until his hands were even with his thick pecs. He was amazed how easily the bar came down. He hadn’t even bothered changing the weights on it before he began working out, and the guy who had been using this station before him was one of the biggest bros at the gym! Russel could now hit the weights with the best of them and then some! And at the rate things were going he was soon going to dwarf even the biggest musclehead the gym had ever seen. Just imagining what it would be like to be so huge got his huge cock to stir to life in his undersized shorts. His semi was straining hard against the fabric of his too-tiny running shorts. He could already tell that one way or the other something was going to have to give. His shorts were reaching their breaking point in more ways than one, and as he pulled down on the bar over and over again he could actually feel himself getting bigger and thicker by the moment. He could actually hear the sound of his shorts straining against his thickening brawn. The sound of straining fabric just spurred him on to work even harder and reach new amazing sizes. He couldn’t wait to see what he would look like when he finally filled the loading bar. Russel was so fixated on his pull downs and his shorts that he hadn’t even noticed what was going on with his shirt. By the time he finished his reps on the pull-down station and returned once more to the mirrors to check his progress he was in for quite a shock. His once far-too-huge shirt was now looking a few sizes too small. The fabric of his muscle shirt strained across his thick pecs and his sculpted abs. The straps of the shirt now rested firmly in the groove between the thick mounds of his delts around his neck and the bulging mass of his traps around his shoulders, but perhaps what was even more amazing was how much his thick lats spilled out the sides of his open-sided muscle shirt. His wings had grown so thick that they would have shredded clean through the sides of his shirt had his shirt not already been open on the sides to accommodate it, but as amazing as his torso had become, it was hard for him to keep his eyes off the improvements below the belt. Russel’s cock was beyond huge at this point. He put even the most ridiculously hung porn star to shame. His dick was looking more like a third leg which each passing moment. His junk was so massive that it didn’t even fit in his shorts anymore. His package rested on the fabric of his shorts as if using them as a hammock instead of actually fitting inside his shorts. Only the tip of his melon-sized cock head actually fit inside his shorts, and his basketball sized stones were even less contained. With how huge his dick had become it was a miracle that any of it could fit in his shorts, and that was saying nothing of his jock strap. His strap had been a bit roomier than his shorts to begin with, but it was still a miracle that it held his bait and tackle in place as well as they did. The red fabric of the front pouch of his jock strap was so strained that it had taken on a sheer, pink texture. The color of his cock and ball flesh was starting to show through. Russel didn’t waste too much time ogling his new size in the mirror. If the loading bar on his shirt was any indication, he still had plenty more growing to do. He was already larger than the biggest bodybuilder in the gym, and he was still just shy of the 50% mark on his loading bar. Russel next made his way over to the squat rack to do some squats. He loaded the bar down with every weighted plate he could get his hands on. The bar was so heavily loaded by the time that he was done that the metal bar actually started to bend and warp under the sheer weight of the plates. Russel figured that that would be a good enough starting point and proceeded to load the bar onto his shoulders and squat down low. He made it halfway through the first squat when a loud, rending sound split the air. His over-stuffed pants had reached their limit and then some. His body was already too big for his britches, but bending down was the final nail in the coffin. His shorts split open clean down the back leaving his big, beefy ass exposed to ass to see. Russel quickly stood back up and set the weight bar back on the rack. The sheer weight of the bar caused the entire gym to rumble. Russel glanced at his reflection once again in the mirror and realized that his shorts were beyond ruined. They were doing more harm than good at this point, and it’s not like he was ever going to fit into them again, so he reached down and unceremoniously ripped them clean off. The waistband snapped with ease leaving him clad in just his shirt, his strap, and his sneakers. With his shorts no longer interfering, Russel once again set to work on his squats. He once again shouldered the weighted bar and squatted down low. He was amazed at how light the bar felt. He had apparently packed on even more muscles during even just the short interlude. The lightness didn’t bother him though. If anything, it spurred him on to work out even harder to grow even larger. He squatted down low and stood back up over and over again while eyeing his reflection in the mirror. He was enamored with how his muscles flexed and rippled with each rep, but there was something else that caught his eye too. With each squat, his hefty nuts came ever closer to touching the floor, and it wasn’t because he was squatting lower. He could actually see his cock and balls getting bigger with each rep! He soon reached the point where he squatted down low and his nuts touched the floor, but he didn’t stop there. He went again and again, squatting down and standing up, and each time he watched as his nuts reached the floor sooner and sooner in each rep. He soon reached a point where his beachball sized nuts were so massive that they reached the floor halfway through his squats and sat there as he finished his motion. Russel was amazed that his strap had held on so long. The fabric was so strained that it had become nearly see-through. Rips and tears had spread through the fabric giving large, uninhibited glimpses as the bare cock and ball flesh tucked away beneath. By the time Russel had finally had his fill of the squat rack, his jockstrap had more than had its fill of his cock and balls! The fabric of the front pouch split wide open, causing his cock and balls to spill out. Russel stared in awe as his dangly bits spilled forth. He had known his junk was huge, but the pouch had hidden just how huge they really were! His beachball sized nuts dangled down to his shins, and the head of his cock rested solidly on the ground at his feet. He had more than a third leg! His cock was not only longer but thicker than his impressively thick thighs as well. His dick nearly rivaled his thick, sculpted midriff for sheer girth! Russel placed the bar back on the rack one final time and took another moment to admire how huge he had become. His torso was sur burly that his muscle shirt was having trouble adjusting. The front of the shirt had become nearly completely swallowed by the dense chasm between his massive, meaty pecs. Only the loading bar, which was now stretched taut across his top row of abs, could be seen. Russel smirked at his progress. He was already so massive, and yet he was barely 60% done? He couldn’t wait to see how much larger he would become. Russel grabbed a pair of the largest dumbbells he could find and took a seat at one of the benches near the free weights. The bench groaned under his massive, muscular bulk, but held its ground. Russel glanced down and smirked at his bare cock and balls which now rested solidly on the ground at his feet before he hoisted the pair of dumbbells up over his shoulders and began to lift them above his head. He quickly settled into a routine of lifting the dumbbells up over his head and then bringing them back down to around his shoulders, but there was something slightly offer. He was getting so massive now that his muscles were getting in the way! The bulge of his traps around his shoulders made it hard for him to raise his arms straight up, and the bulge of his delts around his neck was so thick that the dumbbell kept bumping into it when he returned his arms to the low position. Eventually his traps got so huge that the his could only lift his arm to a 45-degree angle. He figured by that point that it was time to move onto a new exercise. When Russel stood up to move onto the next exercise he was in for a shock… two shocks, actually. First of all, his lats had grown so much during his brief stint doing shoulder presses that he couldn’t even lower his arms all the way! He lowered his arms as low as they would go, and he looked like he should be saying “Welcome to Chili’s”, but the lack of mobility didn’t bother him. If anything, it got him even more worked up. His already semi-boned cock got even harder than before which brought his attention to the second thing which shocked him. His cock had grown even more! He had sort of assumed that once he had lost the pouch of his jockstrap the growth would stop. After all, his jock strap was now less of a strap and more of a belt that barely wrapped around his swelling hips, but the Enhance brand strap hadn’t stopped enhancing his junk! Even now that he was standing straight up, his nuts rested heavily on the floor at his feet, and his semi-boned cock jutted a few feet out in front of him. He could scarcely believe his eyes. His semi was as thick as his midriff, bulging obliques and all! Even as awed by his own body as he was, Russel couldn’t help but notice how eerily quiet the gym had become. For the first time since he had started growing he looked around the room at the others who occupied the gym with him. All eyes were glued to him and his massive muscles and cock. There were a wide range of emotions displayed in those eyes. Jealousy. Wonder… Lust. Just seeing how hot and bothered the other gym-goers were got Russel even more worked up than before. His semi soon reached rock hard status and then some. His massive cock was so hard it was dribbling pre onto the rubberized floor of the gym weight room. Russel was already so massive that it was getting tough to move, but he couldn’t quit now – not when he was so close to maxing out his download bar, and definitely not when he had such an eager audience to please. The question was, what to do next? He had already gone through every exercise on his list, and he doubted he could even fit on most of the gym stations. That was when an idea popped into his head. At his size, he didn’t need gym stations. He was his own station. All he needed was himself and the two barbells he still had in his hands. All eyes were on him as he moved his massive, nearly-nude form into position. He leaned forward so that his enormous cock was resting on the ground in front of him and then laid down directly on top of it. His dick was so massive that while straddling it as he currently was, his feet could barely reach the ground below him and the tip of his dick reached so far forward that his chin rested comfortably on the puffy glans. Once he was happily in position, Russel set to work on his next exercise. He dropped his hands as low as they could go until he was nearly hugging his fat cock and then raised his arms back up until his arms were spread wide by his sides. The murmur of approval from the crowd made it clear they were enjoying the show. Russel could only imagine what they must be seeing though. With his body as exposed as it currently was, there was no doubt his enormous muscles were rippling with each motion, but that wasn’t all. Russel could feel his cock getting thicker between his legs. He could feel the head of his dick poking further and further forward with each fly he completed, and that was saying nothing of his nuts and muscles. He couldn’t see his nuts to check on them, and he had no way of checking his loading bar either. He just had to trust the invigorating rush that was flowing through him to prove that he was still getting larger and larger. Soon Russel reached a point where his chin no longer rested on the spongy head of his cock. His dick had grown so massive that the tip of it poked out past his own head by several inches, and yet it was still growing. As Russel continued his reps he became aware of something interesting. It was getting tougher and tougher to complete a fly. His arms just wouldn’t go all the way back down. At first, he chalked it up to just his cock getting too fat for him to wrap his arms around, but he eventually began to realize that there was something else at work. Part of him wanted to continue his reps, but the curiosity was getting the better of him. He had to see with his own eyes and verify his suspicions. He awkwardly propped himself up and hopped off of his own cock and turned to stare into his own reflection. Sure enough, it was just as he had suspected. His pecs were now so massive that they impeded his ability to bring his arms together. Russel couldn’t believe how massive he had become. He couldn’t believe that he had been a stick when he had walked into the gym this afternoon. Now he was easily five times wider than he had been before. His broad shoulders were so wide he wouldn’t be able to get through a normal doorway without shifting his weight around, and that was saying nothing of his cock which was every bit as thick as his broad, barrel chest, and then there were his nuts which were each about as large as a Lay-Z-Boy recliner. His pecs were the size of mattresses. His individual abs were so huge that each one bulged out like basketballs. His biceps alone were bigger than his whole head, and his quads were as thick as oak trees! And yet, as massive as he was, he could still see himself steadily creeping up in size. Russel knew he had to be reaching the end of his growth. He was already so massive that he was having trouble moving, and yet he didn’t want it to end just yet. Unfortunately, he couldn’t read the loading bar on his shirt. His shirt had been completely swallowed by his pecs. He awkwardly fumbled as best he could with the fabric and tried to pull his shirt out from underneath his pecs so he could read the loading bar, and to his surprise, when he finally did get a chance to read it, the bar was nearly complete! This was about as big as he would get? On one hand he was glad he wouldn’t grow to immobility, but on the other hand, the rush of getting larger and larger was too great to be ignored. Part of him wanted to keep going. Part of him wanted to get even larger than before. He didn’t care if he outgrew the whole gym! A telltale ding came from his shirt to alert him that the download had been completed. For better or worse, this was his new size. Russel wasn’t too bummed out about it though. He was bigger than he ever dreamed possible. He couldn’t wait to show his new bulk to all his friends on campus, but first things first… he needed to rinse off some of the funk from the powerlifting he had done. He put up the barbells and made his way towards the locker rooms for a quick shower. Russel stopped off by his locker briefly to put up his clothes. He had to pull and tug at his shirt to get it unstuck from between his massive muscles, and when he finally did remove it he had to chuckle at what had become of it. The shirt was so badly stretched out that it looked more like a series of spaghetti straps than an actual shirt. Next came the jockstrap, or what was left of it anyway. That part came off much easier than the shirt. All he had to do was shimmy it down across his thick thighs and then step out of them. With that off, all that was left was to kick off his shoes, which he did with ease. It was strange. He had been pretty much bare-assed naked for half of his gym set, but somehow shedding the last few tatters of his clothes left him feeling awkward and exposed. He never was the most outgoing guy, and he had always been afraid of showering in public like this. He had to remind himself that he was no longer a little shrimp with something to hide. He was massive! He had the muscles of a god and the cock of a whale! He had nothing to hide anymore. It didn’t take long for him to psyche himself up and make his way towards the showers. He was not too surprised to find that he was too large to fit into any of the stalls. He was so huge that he couldn’t even get just his dick into one of them! Still, he wasn’t so quick to be discouraged. There was a showerhead on the side of the wall that was out in the open. It was obviously designed for those who were going to hit the pool and just needed to hose off real quick while still in their suits, but it worked just fine for Russel’s purposes. He shimmied his bulk towards the showerhead, turned the knob, and then did his best to soak up underneath the flow, but he was so massive he could only get small parts of him wet at a time, and that was saying nothing of lathering up. There was no way he could reach his arms around his cock to wash it, and his backside was even harder to reach! Fortunately, he didn’t have to worry about what to do for long. He soon felt the warm touch of a wet washrag against his bare skin. Russel glanced over to see one of his admirers from the gym had made the journey into the showers with him. It was hard to believe how tiny the guy looked. He was without a doubt one of the burliest bros Russel had ever seen before, but even this guy looked puny next to Russel’s new mass. Russel didn’t know what to say. Part of him wanted to thank the guy for stepping in to help out, but at the same time he felt kind of weird having someone rubbing him down like this. Fortunately, the new arrival didn’t seem to be too keen on conversation. His eyes were glued to Russel’s enormous pecs. The guy ran the soapy cloth across Russel’s massive pectoral muscle and sensually stroked the thick mass of brawn. Russel’s pecs were so massive that the guy couldn’t even reach all the way across to wash both pecs. The best he could do was focus on the one closer to him. He’d have to walk around to the other side if he wanted to have any hope of washing Russel’s another pec, but for the time being he was content just to wash half of Russel’s front. The suds cascaded down Russel’s pecs and coursed through the deep trenches of his sculpted cum-gutters before reaching his crotch and dripping off his cock and down his immense nuts before splattering onto the tiled floor below, but soapy water wasn’t all that was splattering onto the floor. Russel was trying to keep a level head as he focused on soaping up the parts of his body he could actually reach, but the sensual rubbing from his new friend was getting him even more hot and bothered than he already was. His rock-hard cock was drooling pre so fast that it rivaled the showerhead for sheer output. Pre oozed out from the tip of his supersized cock head and down onto the floor, and things were only going to get even steamier in the showers. Another set of hands soon found their way towards Russel’s enormous body. This time the hands fixated on his backside, and Russel could only assume that the owner of said hands was just as enrapt as the Russel’s first helper. Try as he might though, Russel could not catch a glimpse of the guy behind him. He just couldn’t turn around enough to look behind him, but he was fine with letting his new helper remain anonymous. The mystique just added to his arousal. Russel soon found himself so hot and bothered that his cock was shuddering with joy as the new arrival soaped down his backside. By the time the newcomer had reached down low enough to start massaging Russel’s massive ass, Russel was so close to cumming that he had to try his hardest to tune out the sensations that were overcoming his senses. Having two helpers was almost more than Russel could take, but soon he had yet another newcomer working over his enormous mass. This guy didn’t seem interested in Russel’s muscles though. Russel could only watch in awe as another cute gym jock strode towards him. Even before this newcomer began soaping down a part of Russel’s enormous brawn, Russel knew exactly where he was going to focus his efforts. The guy’s gaze never left Russel’s enormous cock even for a second. The look in his eyes was even hornier than Russel felt! Russel half expected the guy to start washing his cock with his tongue, but instead the guy soon joined in the other two helpers in lathering up Russel’s body with a washcloth and soap. Russel stared in hormone addled awe as the guy stared down Russel’s enormous cock head, a cock head which eclipsed the dude’s entire torso! The guy silently went about his business as he soaped up and stroked down the spongy tip of Russel’s cock. Just feeling how tiny the dude’s hands felt against his cock drove Russel even crazier than before, and the feeling of the dude’s hands sliding under his foreskin to stroke around the fringes of swollen cock head. Russel almost came right then and there. It was only by sheer force of will that he kept himself from dousing the new arrival in a torrential spurt of spunk. Although, judging by the devious glint in the guy’s eyes, Russel wouldn’t doubt that the dude was hoping for just such a shower. Russel’s mind was almost as foggy as the steamy showers as the three guys works over their respective portions of Russel’s colossal body. Guy A had shifted sides and was now working over Russel’s other pec and the other half of his abs and occasionally even dropping a hand low enough to caress Russel’s inner thigh – the guy’s hand wedged tightly between Russel’s thick quads and enormous cock and ball sack as he did so. Guy B had gotten more adventuresome in his worship and cleansing of Russel’s backside and was now giving Russel’s meaty ass a washing he would never forget. Russel was a very hygienic guy, but even had never spent so much time scrubbing the crevasse between his butt cheeks before. Russel was sure he had even felt a tongue in there amidst the lathers and strokes of the washcloth. Meanwhile, Guy C had gotten even more hands on than he was before. He had climbed onto Russel’s cock as if it was a roadhouse mechanical bull. The guy used his entire, soap-covered body to rub and lather Russel’s cock which dwarfed the dude in terms of sheer girth. Even in terms of length, Russel’s dick had a few inches on the guy’s whole body. It was all too much for Russel to take. Dude A stroking his muscles so tenderly, Dude B massaging his ass, balls, and taint so fervently, Dude C gyrating and grinding his whole body against Russel’s cock so erotically, it all worked together to send him over the edge. Russel tried to hold back, but all he managed to do was forestall the coming torrent long enough to let out a loud, low groan. His moan echoed through the misty showers, and then cum erupted from his colossal cock. Russel was so lost in the ecstasy of his own colossal climax that he couldn’t even comprehend what was happening around him. For all he knew everything faded away into the fog of the steamy showers, but he wasn’t the only one in the throes of orgasm. His three attendants had cum as well. Each one without so much as laying a hand on their own cocks. The group came and came again and again, but the trio of attendant’s loads seemed inconsequential next to the flood of spunk that erupted from Russel’s gigantic cock. After a mere two spurts, there was a standing pool of spunk up to Russel’s ankles, and he was nowhere near done draining his nuts. By the time he was finally spent, the thick layer of spooge had seeped out of the showers, into the locker room, and even out into the gym lobby. The four guys slumped down in an exhausted, post-coital haze and basked in the afterglow and the warm sprinkle from the showerhead. Eventually, Russel’s attendants had recovered enough to continue their work, but Russel took much longer to come to his senses. He was only vaguely aware that the three of them were still rubbing him down, and by the time he had mostly come to his senses, his body had been once more washed and was free from spunk. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for much of the locker room. Russel staggered his way back towards the locker room and over towards his locker. He soon realized a small problem that he had not taken into account during his growth – he now had no clothes to wear! His gym shorts were a tattered wreck. They were useless to him even if he wasn’t too huge to wear him, and he hadn’t brought anything else to wear home – not that anything he owned would even fit him anymore. Even the muscle shirt he had been given by his friend which had once been the largest garment he owned was now far, far too tiny for him. He figured he could maybe force it on over his bulky brawn, but what then? The thing would be so stretched out that it would appear to be little more than spaghetti straps. Russel stared down at the stretched-out garment in bemused fascination. He could hardly believe that this little bit of fabric had completely transformed his life and his body. He had gone from the smallest shrimp to the biggest bodybuilder in the span of an hour! He was even bigger than the biggest bodybuilder by a huge margin! Russel was just about to shove the stretched-out ribbons of a shirt back into his locker when he noticed something odd. The loading bar had vanished! It instead had been replaced by what looked to be a pop-up window. Russel unraveled the shirt as best he could and stared in awe at the new message on the fabric. “A New Update is Ready to be Installed” it read.
  27. 20 points
    Part 1 It was a clear, humid August afternoon on the Dan Jensen’s life changed forever. Soon to be a senior in college, Dan had returned home for a couple weeks before the beginning of his final year in school while he was between leases. Life was good; in only 14 short days, he would hop on a plane back across the country to move into an aweesome 2 bedroom apartment with his friend since freshman year, Alex. In the meantime, he was home, and today, Dan had plans to hang out with his other friend from freshman year, of high school this time, Brendan. Dan, around 150 lbs, 5’10”, was super excited to see Brendan. Though they maintained their close friendship even as they attended different colleges hundreds of miles away, Dan had been coming home less and less often during the summers between semesters. This year, though, Brendan had just moved into a new house he was renting near the local state college he attended, with a friend Dan had heard stories of but had never met, Cedric Martinez. Dan was sitting alone in his parents’ kitchen, fanning himself with a magazine on this blazing August day. Across the counter, his phone quietly buzzed and lit up. He answered it. ”Hey B,” said Dan. ”Yoooo dude what is up! You’re finally back yeah?” replied Brendan. ”Yeah, as of this morning.” ”And you’re only here for what, 2 weeks right? Man we gotta catch up! It’s been so long and you haven’t even seen the new place yet, you gotta come check it out.” ”Yeah man, I do. You free this afternoon?” ”Hell yes my dude. My housemate Cedric‘s gone for the day helping his family garden or some shit. I think he’s gonna come back after dinner. You wanna stay for a while? I’ll have him pick up some brews and we can game or something.” Already bored after only a few hours at home, Dan was stoked. “Sounds awesome. Lemme get some shit together so I can stay the night. I know how much beer you always make me drink.” He put the phone between his shoulder and ear and started up to his bedroom, grabbing a backpack and throwing clean clothes and underwear in it. ”Say dude, I was gonna get a workout in this afternoon, you wanna join? I remember you were saying you’ve been pumpin’ iron lately. I’ll give you a great workout!” Brendan suggested. ”Yeah sounds legit,” Dan answered. The two hammered out their plans and Dan finished getting ready, texted a note to his dad, and left in the car his parents agreed to loan him for his time back home. Dan was always a wiry guy, but he had been trying to bulk up for some time, both to feel better about his own body image, but also to hopefully impress the ladies. He had never had much luck with them - and he figured being a skinny 5’10” 145 lb guy didn’t help. Gaining muscle, or any weight in general, was tough for him. Though he had made a little progress and was up to 155 lb these days, he barely had any definition and had a hard time staying motivated. Maybe Brendan could help, though. Based on the pictures he saw on his Facebook, Dan could tell Brendan had rocketed up in mass over the past few months. He pulled up to the white house on the hill as the GPS computer voice informed he’d reached his destination. The house wasn’t too large, but had a long driveway which turned left behind the house to a garage well hidden in the house’s back yard. There, he saw the garage door open and his friend Brendan standing in it with a dumbbell in each hand. Dan stepped out of the car as Brendan turned to greet his friend. “Broooo! You couldn’t wait for me?” said Dan. ”Dan the man, it’s been way too long!” Brendan set the dumbbells down to give his best bud a hug hello. Although it has been some time since they last saw each other, Brendan had packed on some serious muscle. He was wearing short black athletic shorts and a homemade cutoff shirt. His biceps bulged out of the wide holes on the sides of the shirt, smooth, tanned, and bursting with muscle. Dan’s gaze lingered on his friend’s pecs, which were enormous globes of muscle jugging out into a shelf of pure manliness, pushing the shirt tightly outward and exposing a glimpse at Brendan’s sculpted tan body through the huge armholes of the shirt. He lifted his left arm high above his head, stretching as he led Dan into the garage turned home gym, exposing a bushy mass of tangled armpit fur, and leaking out a fierce musky odor. Brendan was everything Dan had wanted to be. He had the body of Dan’s dreams- but how? After all, only about a year ago, the two guys stood in Brendan’s parents basement, also working out, but looking much more similar to each other. They vowed back then to keep trying to bulk up.... but while Brendan had accomplished his goals and then some, Dan was left in the dust, still a relatively skinny guy. ”Alright dude. Let’s get started. I’ve got a chest and bicep day planned out for us. It’s pretty tough so let me know how you’re feeling and we can take a break,” Brendan said. Though the garage was a little small, it boasted an impressive collection of workout equipment. Over in the corner was a power rack fitted with a barbell, a bench, and several heavy weights. There were more dumbbells and a couple of other benches off to the side where Brendan led them first. Behind all this, up against the wall, were several large blue gym mats. ”You guys really tricked this place out!” Dan smiled, selecting a modest 20 lb dumbbell to start doing bicep curls with. “Yeah man, thanks! The mats are Cedric’s, he’s into wrestling. He’s been showing me a little bit here and there.... thinking I might do some rec league in the fall.” Dan and Brendan continued the small talk as the latter showed Dan each exercise and gave him tips on his form. As they went on, Dan started thinking more and more about Brendan’s massive rise in size. Could Brendan have been juicing? Maybe this Cedric guy was a bad influence on him. Still, his friend didn’t seem any different, personality wise. Maybe a little more confident, but how could he not be with guns like those? About 40 minutes in, the head was starting to get oppressive. The two guys were already sweating profusely and finally made the call to ditch their shirts. As Brendan peeled off his drenched cutoff, a massive wave of his manly stench hit Dan’s senses like a wall. It was disgusting, sure. But weirdly, a part of Dan’s brain kind of likes the smell. He didn’t process it as the sort of funky, stinky BO that you often think of. Instead, it was more of a musk. Like a manly, testosterone laced pheromone. Dan was immediately jealous but increasingly obsessed with this smell- questions about it swirling in his head, like, “how can I enjoy this so much?” but more importantly, “how can I make myself smell this way?” and “how can I get more of this without Brendan knowing?” Finally they wrapped up their last set and Brendan led Dan inside. “That was awesome dude,” said Dan. “Holy hell you put on so much beef!” he jokingly, but deep down, seriously, flirted, grabbing at his friends sweat slick pecs. Brendan smiled. “You’ll get there.” They entered the house through the back screen door, which led into a small laundry room. Dan spied a wrestling singlet hanging up to dry and several pairs of jockstraps next to it, as Brendan led him into a hallway which opened up into the living room and kitchen area. For a house occupied by two college guys, it was surprisingly clean and well decorated. The living room had a large leather sectional and huge flat screen tv accompanied by the latest in video games. Across the room, the kitchen was separated from a small dining area by a low counter stacked with appliances and workout supplements. Brendan put his preworkout from earlier away and started making Dan and himself two protein shakes. As he finished with the blender and poured two tall glasses of thick white protein, Brendan roared, “Damn it’s hot! I’m sorry man, I gotta get cool somehow.” Brendan ungracefully pulled down his black shorts, sticky with sweat, revealing his bare, sculpted calves to Dan. More importantly, and shockingly to Dan, Brendan was wear a skimpy white jockstrap with a gray waistband, his massive package soaked in sweat and barely contained by the fabric. Brendan’s bubble ass jutted out, too, barely contained by thin white straps. Dan’s rational, “this is wrong, my friend shouldn’t been acting this way in front of me” brain was quickly losing the battle to the curious and aroused brain. Panicked he would do something embarrassing and out of character, he stammered, “Hey, maybe we should hit the shower?” He quickly gulped down some cold protein shake and held the bottle awkwardly down in front of his crotch to try to cover his stiffening tent in his own workout shorts. ”For sure,” said Brendan. “Let me show you to the bathroom.” Dan immediately realized his miscalculation as Brendan led the way upstairs to his room, treating Dan to a full view of his jock strapped muscle ass, perfectly sculpted, smoothly shaved with just the right bit of hair sticking out of his cheeks. Dan could swear he could even see Brendan’s heavy package swaying between his and they climbed the stairs and turned to corner into Brendan’s bedroom. Dan struggled to keep his boner in check. He just had to make it a little further. Now in the bedroom, Brendan opened the door to the master bathroom and stepped inside. “I’ll just be a minute,” he said, leaving the door cracked behind him. The shower started and Dan breathed a little relief, sitting down on Brendan’s king sized bed. Only a minute later, Brendan emerged, the shower still running. “Sorry man, where are my manners? I should be letting you get clean first.” He mercifully had a towel wrapped around his waist, allowing Dan to maintain some degree of control over his stiffening cock. Dan quickly slipped by into the bathroom. He shut the door tightly behind him. The bathroom was large, with a longer counter covered with various bathroom toiletries, but one thing in particularly seemingly was calling out to Dan. There, on the counter just next to the sink and left of an electric razor in it’s charging cradle was a wet, sweaty jockstrap. Dan almost screamed at his luck that Brendan left this behind for him. He ripped off his shorts and underwear, springing free his 5” cock. He wanted to do everything to this jockstrap- smell it, wear it, rub it all over himself- he wanted to inhabit the smell entirely. He thrust it into his face, covering it completely with the sweat drenched pouch. He grabbed his cock with his other hand, firmly grasping it and letting go of his control. Lightly moaning now, he grew intoxicated by Brendan’s aroma, rubbing the jock up and down his chest, into his crotch and armpits, and back up to his face. His dick was hard as a steel rod; Dan had never felt anything like this before. He glimpsed at himself in the bathroom mirror briefly, staring into his own blue eyes and he saw his mouth covered by a jock, his short light brown hair matted down with sweat itself. Dan was so into it, now, jerking himself as he continued to inhale, fully immersed in pleasure that he failed to hear the sound of the bathroom door opening. “Well now,” said Brendan. “Looks like you’re having fun!” Dan froze. Busted. His face covered still by the jock, he hid behind it in shame as he turned in the direction of his friend’s voice. Slowly, and with great fear, he lowered it and opened his eyes to see Brendan, a mountain of muscle, standing before him with his hands on his hips and a rock hard, 10” long, nearly 2” wide cock of his own. ”Come here you little stud,” Brendan said. Dan leapt into his arms, now fully encased in a muscly grip. Brendan presses his forehead against Dan and held his face between his massive hands. “So you like what you smell, huh boy?” Dan nodded. Brendan’s cock just barely grazed up against Dan’s. “Well let’s have some fun,” he grunted. Brendan plunged his mouth onto Dan’s, kissing him passionately. For Dan, who had never before done this with a guy, the feeling of Brendan’s tongue in his mouth felt strange. Though he had kissed women before, Brendan was more aggressive, more forceful. Dan felt like he could relax for one, and let the bigger man have his way with him. He closed his eyes and let Brendan begin to take control even more, as Brendan brought the full weight of his muscular body against Dan, pushing him backwards against the tile wall of the bathroom. Brendan slurped his tongue in Dan’s mouth, releasing only to playfully taunt him. “I could tell you were squirming at the sight of me even when we were working out.” Brendan reached down and grabbed Dan’s cock, feeling its modest warm length. “Not terrible,” he said slyly. “But it’s hard to understand why you’d be called ‘Dan the Man’ with a piece like this. “Me on the other hand...” He grabbed his own cock and aligned its shaft with Dan’s, proving it was nearly twice as long. Dan loved feeling the length of his cock pressed fully against his friend’s hot meaty schlong. For Brendan, this was an incredible display of dominance; to so clearly impress his larger endowment against Dan’s made him swell with bestial masculine pride. He wrapped his hand around both cocks and began jerking together. Dan, now feeling the entire weight and body hear of Brendan’s muscled frame, returned his attention to the musky smell that got him into this in the first place. Now, with his face positioned just next to Brendan’s pit, he smelled an even greater concentration of testosterone laced pheromones being emitted from Brendan’s hairy armpit. He meekly pushed Brendan’s bicep upward and tilted his head toward the pit, putting his face right next to the faucet, so to speak. “Oh, you like that, do you? Yeah, you loved my jock, ya little freak,” moaned Brendan. “Why not go right to the source though?” He pulled away from Dan now, grabbing the smaller man’s shoulders and pushing him down to his knees. Now face to face with Brendan’s crotch, Dan nearly whimpered in excitement. “You want to smell my crotch, dude?” grunted Brendan. Dan nodded. “No, I wanna hear you say it, dude. Little straight boy Dan, you want daddy Brendan’s cock?” This evidently was enough goading to get Dan to completely share his thoughts on Brendan. “Fuck yeah dude. The minute I saw you I had to know what my bro from high school had been up to. I’m fuckin’ jealous dude. A year ago we were right there at the same stats as each other and you just exploded. And I don’t know what the hell you awakened in me, but I fucking NEED this. I want to BE you but I want to feel everything you have to give too. Now give me that fucking man meat.” Dan lunged forward as Brendan thrust his cock into Dan’s face, smearing the whole length of his meaty tool all over Dan’s wanting cheek and face. The smell was intoxicating; but Dan was starting to get the taste, too. He wrapped his lips around Brendan, fully feeling dominated in the process. He wondered how Brendan must feel, using him like this. On his end, he loved feeling submissive for once. Feeling like his entire purpose was to serve Brendan’s masculine primal urges. As Brendan thrust his cock further into Dan’s throat, he fell into a rhythm of slobbering and sucking deeply on his friend’s 10 incher. Sweet, but salty precum began to leak into his mouth as Dan gagged deeper and deeper on cock, jerking himself feebly in the process. He felt Brendan’s cock pulsing and throbbing, getting closer and closer to emptying the load from his full balls all over and into Dan. God, what would the load feel like, he thought. He tried to imagine it - it would be like the ultimate domination, being sprayed and coated with Brendan’s essence. Would he ever be big enough or manly enough to return the favor? Brendan had done it, so could he? As he thought about this, Brendan quietly slipped his cock out of Dan’s mouth. Brendan started jerking, pointing his tool right at Dan’s open mouth. “Dan dude,” he said seriously. “I cum a lot. Like.... a freakish amount. Just a warning.” Dan nodded and jerked himself off too, the anticipation of Brendan’s “freakish” load weighing heavy in his mind. Maybe it would be- But the floodgates opened right there. Brendan howled, roared, grunted, all at once, unleashing a torrent of cum straight at the ready and willing Dan. A few shots hit him straight in the mouth, some going down his throat and the rest dribbling down his chin and onto his chest. It felt awesome, of course- hot, thick, and of course, bearing the same musky smell as all the rest of Brandon. Dan felt shot after shot fly off Brendan’s cock, getting everywhere; into his mouth, on his chest, on the floor and even onto Dan’s own cock as he jerked. He lost count by now- what was it, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen?! His mind descended into bliss, his own cock slick with saliva and Brendan’s cum, finally shooting his own load onto the floor as his body crumpled under fatigue and bliss into the puddle of cum on the bathroom floor. “Fuck, Dan,” said Brendan, spent and breathing heavily. “Well, now you’re a part of it too.”
  28. 19 points
    Chapter Four It was late so the gym was pretty much deserted. I finished my set of bicep curls and let the 120lbs dumbbells fall to the floor. I raised my outrageously pumped biceps and hit a double bicep pose. I closed my eyes and moaned with pleasure as the massive peaks pressed against my equally bloated forearms. I twisted my wrists and let my fingers graze the top of each peak. I moved to the 130lb weights and started grunting loudly as I curled a weight few other lifters could even hoist off the rack. I wasn’t counting the reps as I focused on exhausting my biceps completely. My trance was broken by the appearance of three guys entering the weight room. As expected, their attention as immediately drawn to my massive form across the room. One guy covered his mouth while the other two simply stopped moving completely. They very clearly bodybuilders and from a quick assessment, ranged from 250-275lbs. I retuned my gaze to the mirror as I cranked out a few more reps before tossing the weights back on the rack, sending a loud crash through the near-empty gym. I moved to a squat rack and starting setting it up for curls as I watched the inevitable behaviour from the three guys trying not to look like they were constantly checking me out. I loaded two 45lb plates on either side of the bar and started to crank out reps. The 225lb weight moved up and down with frightening speed. I dropped the weight and started to hit a few poses in the mirror. The three guys were at the nearby leg press machine. One of them was finishing a set with close to 500lb on the sled. While his buddies should have been spotting him, they both stared slack-jawed as I flexed my increasingly pumped arms. I heard him shout at them, snapping them back to reality. The guy crawled out the of machine, giving his friends dirty looks. As he stood up, he looked in my direction and it was his turn to stare in awe. I casually picked up two more 45lbs plates with one hand and added one to either side of the bar. I gripped the weight and started to curl again. “FUCK!” I heard one of them say in disbelief. At the top pf my sixth rep, I stopped moving the bar. “Can I get a spot?” I said loudly. The three guys exchanged glances before the biggest of them started to approach. “No. All of you.” I commanded. They hesitated but all approached, their eyes growing wider the closer they got. With one on each side and the biggest guy nervously standing face-to-face with me, they all reached up to add assistance to the bar. “No! Pull down, I really want to make these reps count.” I said with a smirk. They all froze. “Come on! Make me work for this pump!” I said sternly. They timidly repositioned their hands while giving each other concerned looks. I felt the added resistance and couldn’t help but let out a moan as the bar started to lower. At the bottom of the rep, I started to drive the weight back up again. I felt my blood-engorged arms start to tremble. “PULL HARDER!” “Holy fuck!” One guy yelled. I started to growl as the weight increased dramatically but it didn’t stop moving. I managed three more reps before dropping the weights and taking a step back. All three men couldn’t move as I raised my arms into a double bicep pose. I let out a loud grunt at the top of the flex. I looked at my refection in the mirror and marvelled at how my arms dwarfed each of the competitive bodybuilders. I was so focused on the site of my mammoth arms that I didn’t see one of the guys bend over and puke on his shoes. The other two stood dumbfounded at the sight of my body, unable to assist their friend. I extended and re-flexed my arms as I heard them both moan. “FUCK man, that’s so gross!” The guy that puked yelled as he stumbled back. “I’m getting the fuck out of here! Come on guys.” He said. His two friends didn’t move a muscle. Instead, they continued to stare at the gruesome network of veins erupting all lover my flexed biceps. “I think they want to stay and help me with the rest of my workout.” I said with a smile. “You’re all fucked then” he said as he ran towards the locker room. I looked at the two guys and smiled at the look of pure fear and lust in their eyes. I dropped my arms and started to lift and flex each bicep in rapid succession. One guy couldn’t help but grab his hard cock while the other just stared at my bloated arms flex and relax. “Glad to see two of you aren’t too scared to stick around. I think you’ll find this workout pretty inspiring.” I said. “Damn dude! You are the biggest freak I’ve ever seen.” The bigger of the two said. “Thanks. I believe you.” I said. “H-h-how can you be this huge?” The other guy said. “You’re about to find out.” I said and moved towards the cable machine. I hooked the rope on, dropped the pin to the bottom of the weight stack and slowly started to do tricep pushdowns. The two guys appeared on either side of me and without even having to invite them, started caressing my triceps. “Yeah. Feel that muscle. 27” arms and 22” forearms. Have you ever felt anything so hard? Look at those veins snaked all over my paper-thin skin.” I said as the performed countless heavy reps. I could only hear moans of pleasure from my new admirers. I dropped the weight and turned to them. “How much do you weight?” “I-I-I’m 278lb and he’s 255lbs” the bigger guy answered. “Good, that will do. You, climb onto the weight stack.” I said to the bigger guy. His eyes looked like they were about fall out of his head but he slowly positioned himself on the machine. His friend was making non sensical noises as he started to realize what I was about to do. I gripped the rope and with a loud grunt, started to lift the weight stack and the bodybuilder off the ground. The metal plates rattled loudly as I reached the top of the first rep. I let out a moan as my triceps reached their fully flexed state. I let the weights down and quickly started to press again. Slowly, my speed increased and the weights and full-grown man started to move like a piston. “Holy fucking shit! How are you so strong?” The guy standing next to me screamed. “B-because I’m the b-b-biggest freak in the w-world” I replied through gritted teeth. I completed 11 reps before letting go of the rope, causing the weights to fall and the guy to stumble from the machine. He lay on the ground looking up at me as I turned and flexed my right tricep. From the reflection in the mirror, I could see the gargantuan muscle erupting close to two feet from my back. The guy beside me approached slowly and when I felt his trembling hand touch the flex muscle, I let out a moan. “Yeah! Feel the biggest tricep on the planet. Fuck that feels good.” The guy on the floor regained his footing and joined his friend. They both explored every inch of my throbbing tricep while also grabbing their respective cocks. “That’s right, no need to hide how fucking hot this is. Worship my 27” arms, 22” forearms and 78”chest” I said to a flood of moans before relaxing the pose. “Lets do some dips” I said. The two guys looked at each other nervously. I approached the dip machine and stepped onto the platform. I gripped the handles and hoisted my massive body off the ground. Most people could never move so much weight on their own but I was hardly most people. “I weight just shy of 325lbs. Yeah you heard that right, at only 5’10”. That weight should be enough for dips but I want you guys decide to who climbs on my back and who grabs hold of my legs. Don’t worry, either way you’ll get to feel a lot of freaky huge muscle.” The bigger guy moved behind me and climbed onto my back. I felt his hands groping every massive slab of muscle as he did so. The smaller guy wrapped his arms around my thighs. I couldn’t help but notice the trouble he had linking his arms together. I raised my head and the sight in the mirror made me instantly hard. My massive body easily dwarfed the two bodybuilders holding clinging to me. Our combined weight of over 850lbs looked like a compact ball of muscle that looked almost comical if it wasn’t so absolutely hardcore. I let out a bellow that made the guys flinch and started to lower us. Instantly, pain shot through my whole body. The massive weight of the three bodies made me almost doubt my confidence. As if sensing my fear they started to encourage me. “Come on, lift!” “Show us your power!” “Fuck yeah, use that muscle!” Their words made me even harder as I refocused and started to push and we started to rise. I was practically foaming at the mouth from effort but I refused to stop. At the top of the rep, I started screaming at the top pf my lungs and slowly started to lower again. As I struggled to rise, I caught a glimpse of our reflection in the mirror. Not just my triceps, but my whole body had never looked so huge. Veins visibly pulsed on every exposed surface and striations appeared in places I had never seen. It was at that moment I truly realized just how much of a monster I had become. The two huge men clinging to my body looked puny by comparison. I let out a final growl as I raised us up. At the top of the rep, I let out one final roar as I released a massive load of cum which splashed onto the ground below me. “Off!” I screamed, causing the guys to quickly climb down. Once the additional weight was removed, I proceed to perform more dips. I moved at a frightening speed. My triceps were already on fire but I needed to inflict even more pain on myself. The two guys stood in disbelief as I surpassed 20 reps and showed no sign of slowing. One could not hold back and pulled his rock-hard cock out of his shorts and started to jack it. “YES! Show me how much I turn you on!” The other guy whipped his cock out and both men stroked ferociously as I continued to perform textbook perfect reps. After another 20 reps I stopped and stood on the platform, looking down on them. I pulled my sweat soaked string tank top off and hit a most muscular pose. I knew I looked truly inhuman and a quick glance in the mirror confirmed that. “Cum all over this grotesque freak of nature! Show me how turned on these massive muscles make you!” I shouted down at them. Simultaneously, the two men let out orgasmic screams as their huge loads of cum splashed against my fully flexed upper body. I jumped off the platform and grabbed each man around their waist and lifted them off the ground. I kissed the smaller guy hard and deep as the bigger guy started licking a gob of cum off my left pec. I felt hands on my abs, traps, biceps and back as I alternated kissing each rabid admirer. I let go of them as they continued to explore every inch of by body. “So huge. Fucking sick. Nasty veins. So gross.” I heard them saying. “YES. Tell me how huge and disgustingly huge I am.” I said as I started to pose for them. I stepped back, untied my baggy sweat pants and let them fall to floor. They both gasped at the sight of my now exposed quads and calves. I smiled and extended one leg and flexed it hard. They scrambled towards it, groping every inch. “Fuck yeah guys. Feel what 42 inches of quad meat feels like. Lick that 29 inch calf. Have you every seen anything so fucking massive?” I roared. “Impossible! Huge. Massive. So many veins!” They said over and over. I reached down and scooped up the bigger guy with ease. As I jammed my tongue down his throat, his friend grabbed my astronomically massive glutes. “Oh yeah! Feel the biggest glutes in the universe!” I placed my hands on my 38” waist and started to flare my impossibly massive lats. Even I gasped at the sight as my body widened farther than my 5’10” height. Thick veins could be seen creeping to my arm pits. My arms were so bloated with pump, there were no gaps between them and my lats, I was a complete wall of muscle. My quads pulsed and erupted with slabs of mass spewing in every direction. Watching my reflection in the mirror had my cock rock-hard again. “FUCK, so pumped!” I bellowed. “Who wants to get fucked by all this MUSCLE?” I asked. The smaller guy wasted no time ripping off his shorts. His tight, relatively ripped body glistened with sweat. I turned him around and ran my hands over his thick back, causing him to quiver at my touch. I reached down and placed a hand on each of his hard hamstrings. With no effort, I lifted his 255lb body off and ground. He let out a moan as my cock made contact with his tight hole. “Yeah! You’ve never been manhandled like this I bet.” I said as I plunged my cock in deeper. His eyes became glazed as pleasure flooded his body. I manoeuvred his body like a sex toy, moving him back and forth on my raging cock. I momentarily got lost in the sight of my gargantuan forearms that were fully flexed while supported his entire body weight. His tight ass and the sight of his friend jerking feverishly sent me into overdrive. I let the guy down and motioned for the other to come closer. I bend down and placed a hand under either man’s ass and hoisted them both off the ground. They both let out a gasp as I easily controlled both bodies. “Grab hold because I need some extra protein” I said and moved the larger man towards my head. He placed a hand on my flexed shoulder as his cock slid into my mouth. He let out a howl and I could instantly taste pre-cum. With his thick cock in my mouth, I moved his body back and forth until he erupted and sprayed a load down my throat. I licked my lips and moved my head to the other side. As the second rock-hard cock entered my mouth I started to suck it hard and long. I felt the oncoming orgasm before his load of cum filled my mouth. “FUCK YEAH! Two huge loads was just what I needed.” I said and turned to face a nearby mirror. “Look at this guys! Two big bodybuilders being cradled my the biggest freak ever.” I said. The sight was truly incredible. Together we were a tower of muscle, soaked in sweat and smelling of sex. I gave the guys one final thrill by slowly flexing my biceps under their asses. They both stared in awe as they visibly rose higher as I reached peak flex. “F-F-F-FUCK yeah!” I screamed as another load of cum sprayed onto the floor at my feet. I lowered to two guys, giving them each a deep, strong kiss. “Come on. Let's go get something to eat. I’ll pay, you’ve earned it.” I said and wrapped my arms around each of them and started towards the locker room.
  29. 19 points
    Thanks for all the comments on that last chapter. This next one is a bit lighter in tone than the last couple... Seven “Alright!” I say to Joshua as I walk into the kitchen. He’s sitting at the table eating his breakfast. He stops eating and just gawps at me with his eyes widened. “Stopped giving me the silent treatment then have you?” I’ve been pissed off with Josh since the incident with mum last week. “Oi. Don’t wind your brother up,” my dad says to Josh as he sits down next to him. Bloody hell. Is dad actually sticking up for me for once? Though his tone is a hell of a lot calmer than it is when he’s having a pop at me. He doesn’t hit him with any post either. Or belt him round the head. I sit down opposite Josh with my porridge. He’s giving me this little smirk. Like he’s pleased that I’m talking to him again. “Josh - are you seeing your mum this week?” my dad asks, not looking up from his bowl. Josh looks from me to him confused. I don’t change my expression. “Umm. Yeah?” he says, a little unsure. “When?” “Wednesday!” “Good. You can take your brother along,” he says to Josh, looking at me. My stomach tightens. Josh looks surprised, but he’s smiling too. “I’m working Wednesday!” I say, looking into my porridge bowl. “Well, now you’re not!” I roll my eyes but I don’t argue. “Is this ‘cause he got wankered last week and was too hungover to work the next day?” Dad picks up a letter from the table and whacks Josh round the head with it. “OW!” I laugh at Josh’s expense. “I’m calling Childline,” Josh says. “Funny looking child!” my dad barks. “Six foot tall and built like a brick fucking shit house!” Josh looks at me and we’re smiling at each other. For the first time in what feels like ages. My dad’s seems to have gone a bit easier on me since I agreed to meet mum. I laid low over the weekend after my night out with Tony last week. He keeps texting and asking me when we’re going out again. At least I have work and the bodybuilding expo in London next weekend to keep him at bay for a bit. I haven’t been on Instagram since the last time either. When I saw that picture of Woody and Henderson together. Even though I keep wondering whether Ryan North PT has liked or replied to the comment I left on one of his posts. Or whether he’s commented on any of my pics in return. Or even just followed me. Surely he’s at least followed me? It’s only been a few days since I last saw him, but as I walk into the gym to find Ryan leant over the reception desk talking to Big Steve in a bright red, tight fitted t-shirt with "RYAN NORTH PERSONAL TRAINING" written on the back, I can’t help thinking that he’s gotten even bigger over the weekend. Maybe it’s this just this particular t-shirt or maybe he just did an arm workout but his triceps look extra fucking big today. They’re really bulging. His lats are stretching the red material of his t-shirt. And his ass. Thick and round and stretching the material of his black trackies. Jesus. And now I’m suddenly thinking picturing this rear stage shot of Ryan I saw on his Instagram last week. His big, shredded glutes blowing out of his blue non-velvet posers. “Alright, lads!” he says to me and dad, swivelling round to face us. This big cheeky grin on his face. I fucking swear he’s gotten better looking since I last saw him too. “Ryan - you big handsome fucker!” I roll my eyes. Fuck’s sake, dad. Ryan makes eye contact with me and smirks. Why do certain guys smell so good? “First PT client this morning?” dad asks. Ryan answers yes. Some guy called Oscar who’s apparently a newbie to Deano’s. I’m kind of hoping my dad will let me loose on the gym floor but he tells me to head to the Juice Bar instead. It’s only a few hours later when I’m reunited with the both of them. Ryan leaning over the front desk again and talking to my dad, who looks pissed off about something. “I’ll just have to fork out for a fucking courier to collect them!” he moans. “What’s up?” I ask, as I get to my desk. My dad shakes his head and groans, going back to his laptop and ignoring me. Ryan swivels around to look at me. He’s still leaning against the desk. His arms bulging. Did dad hire this guy just to torture me or something? “Your dad’s having a bit of trouble getting those banners back from Portsmouth,” he tells me. “What banners?” I literally have no idea what he’s talking about. “Who’s on the Juice Bar?” my dad asks sternly, ignoring my question. “Steve! It’s my lunch break.” He shakes his head and goes back to his laptop. “What banners?” I ask again. “Oh for fuck’s sake, Deano!” my dad snaps. Then he looks at Ryan and his expression flickers. Almost like he’s realised how unreasonable he’s being. He lets out a sigh and then actually speaks to me like I’m a fucking adult for once. “We did an expo in Portsmouth a few weeks ago and we left the bloody “Deano’s Gym” banners there. The conference centre’s just sent an arsey fucking email saying if we don’t arrange for a courier to collect them they’re gonna chuck ‘em. Cheeky bastards! We need them for London next Saturday.” “So what’s the problem?” “It costs a hundred and fifty bloody quid for a courier!” “Can’t you just go and pick them up in the car?” “Now why didn’t I think of that? Smart arse! Fucking ‘ell. Anyone would think he was at Oxford!” Ryan looks at me and smirks, but it’s not a cruel smirk. It’s a friendly smirk. It’s a, ‘Your dad’s only joking because he’s a massive piss taker and I totally get how embarrassing he is,’ smirk. “I’ve got clients all bloody week. I’m chock-a-block!” Then he lets out a big sigh. “I’ll just have to cancel on someone. A hundred and fifty bloody quid. That’s Big Steve’s fault for leaving them!” “Make him drive over there, then,” I suggest. “What is it? Like, an hour and twenty minutes drive?” Ryan asks. “About that,” my dad says. “Three hours I don’t have!” “I’ll go!” Ryan says with a shrug. My dad shakes his head. “I can’t ask you do that,” Ryan straightens up. “I don’t mind, mate. I haven’t got another client until tomorrow. Unless you need me here?” My dad looks at Ryan and rolls his tongue around the inside of his mouth. He’s always doing that. “Deano - I don’t mind. Honestly!” he protests. Ryan to the rescue. My dad’s gonna love him after this. “Okay, okay!” my dad says. “I’ll transfer the petrol money into your account now. You’re a lifesaver, mate!” My dad looks at me. “Take bloody shit-face here with you!” he says pointing in my direction. My chest does something weird. I look at Ryan. I feel strangely nervous all of a sudden. “Why?” I ask. My dad’s eyes widen. “Cause I bloody said so!” I don’t argue. He thanks Ryan a bunch of times and shows him the address of the conference centre on his laptop which he writes down in his phone. And now I’m following Ryan and his big arse, bulging triceps and red t-shirt straining lats to his bright red Peugeot and before I know it I’m sat next to him in the passenger seat. His huge, tanned, veiny forearms are right there next to me. His thighs looks massive under his trackies. His pecs are straining under the material of his bright red t-shirt. And those upper arms. Thank God I’m sitting down. Whoever invented trackies clearly didn’t think too much about guys getting unwanted hard-ons at inappropriate moments. Ryan puts the address into his SatNav. I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but he seems a little nervous. I guess it is a bit of an awkward situation. We don’t really know each other. And we're suddenly sat next to each other in his car. Plus - I am the boss’s son. “Whoever sent your dad that arsey email better be grateful we’re going instead of him!” he says, as the car pulls out. I widen my eyes and nod. Ryan clears his throat. “So, do you think you’ll be able to make it all the way to Portsmouth?” he asks me, with a straight face. “What?” I ask, confused. “Without me having to stop the car so you can be sick behind a bin?” And now he’s fucking beaming at me. This big, cheeky grin. I’m kinda smirking, but my stomach’s clenching. Because I’m pissed off too. “My dad fucking told you?!” Ryan pulls an eeeek face and nods, still smirking. “He told all the lads at the gym!” I shake my head and look out of the side window. “Fuck’s sake!” “We’ve all been there, mate! Plus, you know … it’s your dad. You ARE his favourite subject!” I look at Ryan and screw my face up. What a weird thing to say. I have no idea how to respond. “Your dad talks about you all the time, mate!” he says, with a big smirk. Ugh. I can just imagine what my dad says about me to the other lads at the gym. I suddenly feel awkward so I look away and out of the side window again, but for some reason, I’m finding it really hard not to smile. I chew on the inside of my mouth to try and cover it up. And then something happens to completely pull me from my thoughts about dad. Ryan starts singing along to the really old cheesy pop song that’s playing on the car radio. I glare at him wide-eyed and he stops singing. “WHAT?” he asks, grinning. I pull a face and shake my head. But I’m smiling too. “This is a classic!” he says. I look at him with one eyebrow raised. “Maaaate!” Ryan yanks the music up and starts singing along loudly and leaning over to me. Like he’s serenading me. It’s so fucking goofy. But it’s funny too. “I don’t care who you are … where you’re from … what you did … as long as you love me …” I shake my head. “Fuckin ‘ell!” I say. Ryan laughs. “I’m telling you. This is a classic nineties tune. You’re too young to remember!” “Hmmm. I forgot you’re more my dad’s age.” Ryan lets out a short, loud laugh. “Cheeky bastard. I’m not THAT much older than you!” I smirk and look out of the side window again. “Okay, question - what was your favourite film as a kid?” “Erm … “ I pull a face, trying to think of a reply. “Terminator 2?” I say, with a shrug. “WHAT? When you were a kid?” “Yeah?" I say, with a shrug. "Dad let me watch horror films when I was about ten.” “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Ryan says, grinning. “Why - what was yours?” I ask. “Easy. The Goonies!” My stomach clenches. Fucking Henderson has a Goonies t-shirt. “Never seen it,” I mumble, turning my head and looking out of the window again. “WHAT?!” he cries. I turn back to Ryan who’s looking at me flabbergasted. I can’t help smiling at his reaction. “You’ve NEVER seen The Goonies?” I pull a face and shrug. “You don’t know the Truffle Shuffle? Sloth?” I shake my head, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. Then Ryan leans into me and pulls this really stupid face. “Hey you guuuys?” he says, in an equally stupid voice. “Are you having a stroke?” Ryan laughs. “That’s my Sloth impression!” I pull a face and he laughs again. “I can’t believe you’ve never seen The Goonies. Right - that’s your new goal for the summer. By the time you go back to uni, you’re gonna have watched The Goonies!” I pull a face, but I’m smiling too. I can’t help it. “I do have better things to do with my summer than watch kid’s films, you know!” “Oh what - like throwing up in the street? Going for a drinking sesh with 'mad cunt Tone'?” “Does my dad just tell you EVERYTHING?” Ryan laughs. “Pretty much. But no - I read that one on your Instagram post!” he says, looking at me with a little smirk. I feel a weird flutter in my chest. So Ryan’s been checking out my Instagram page. Presumably after I started following him last week. Which means he’s probably now following me back. And that he must have seen the comment I left on his post. I don’t say anything. I just bite my lip, trying to cover up my smirk. “Hey you guuuys!” he says in that stupid voice again, not looking at me. Almost like he’s forgotten I’m here. I look at him and a little laugh escapes my mouth. He grins at me (this stupidly handsome grin) like he’s chuffed that he’s made me laugh. He looks straight ahead and does it again. “Hey you guuuys!” “Are you secretly, like, a massive nerd?” I say to him. He leans towards me, pulling the Sloth face again. “Ma-aa-be-ee!” he says, in the same rhythm and voice as the catchphrase. I let out another little laugh. I’m starting to realise that Ryan’s a bit of a character. He’s kind of quirky, I guess. You’d never really think that to look at him. I admire how much he’s able to just be himself in front someone he doesn’t really know. “When you watch the film you’ll see how good my Sloth impression really is!” I raise an eyebrow at him, like I don’t quite believe him. “Although I’d say I’m slightly better looking than he is!” he says, with a cheeky smirk. For some reason, I feel a tiny pinch of disappointment. I pull a face and look out of the side window again. So Ryan’s cocky about the way he looks? Just like my brother. Just like Sebastian “Woody” Wood. Why am I fucking surprised at this? I look back at him and he’s smirking. “Just a little bit!” he says with two fingers pinched. I roll my eyes and smirk. In spite of my-fucking-self. “So, Mr Pocket Rocket …," Ryan says a little while later. I feel an odd pinch of excitement at hearing him quote my nickname and Instagram profile name. I look at him and he’s cheekily grinning. Yeah - he’s definitely following me on Instagram. “Excited about the expo next weekend?” I pull an indifferent face and shrug. He looks at me wide-eyed and surprised. “Okay - what bodybuilder doesn’t wanna go to a bodybuilding expo?” “I’ve been to, like, a hundred of them! Plus, you know, I’ll be working.” He nods and smirks. “So you’ll be stuck sitting behind a table in a Deano’s Gym t-shirt all day?” I smile at Ryan's accuracy and nod. “Pretty much!” “I’ll come and say hi if I can!” My stomach does something weird. “Are you going?” I ask him, feeling an odd pinch of nerves. He smirks at me. This big, mischievous smirk. “Well I didn’t do the last six weeks of prep for nothing!” I look at his arms. Huge. Jacked. Tanned. “I’m competing in the amateur show there!” he explains. I bite my lip and nod. “Cool!” I say, feeling weirdly nervous again. Because now I’m thinking about one of the pictures I saw on Ryan’s Instagram page last week. The one of him on stage, tanned and shredded and cranking down into a crab most muscular pose. Muscle exploding. Triceps popping. Traps erupting up to his earlobes. “Super Heavyweight class!” he says. “No shit,” I say. Fuck - did that come out as rude? Sarcastic? Did I sound like a fucking twat? But Ryan just looks at me and smirks. “Just, you know … you are, like, a monster!” I tell him. “A ridiculously tall, giant-like monster!” He looks me up and down and pulls an eeek face. “What?” I say, both parts annoyed and amused. Ryan pulls a face and shrugs. “You were gonna say something like, everyone’s a giant compared to you!” I say, in a mock voice. Ryan laughs. “Mate! You’ve NAILED me. That was like listening to myself talk!” I smirk and shake my head. “Okay, I admit. I was thinking about commenting on your height. And then I remembered - you’re the boss’s son!” I raise an eyebrow at him and smirk. “So I suppose I’d better watch what I say. In case it gets back to him. I’m already regretting the Sloth impression!” “Just the one or all three of them?” Ryan laughs. “Wait till you see my Truffle Shuffle! Anyway, the show starts at six. You know ... if you wanna come watch,” he says, without looking at me. I nod, my chest doing something weird again as I think about Ryan competing. Tanned. Shredded. Fucking hell. “You’re not gonna pose to The Goonies theme tune are you?” Ryan lets out another short, loud laugh. “I should pose to The Goonies theme tune!” I shake my head and look out of the side window, rolling my tongue around the inside of my cheek to cover up the fact that I’m smiling so fucking much. And all I can seem to think about for the rest of the journey to Portsmouth and back is watching Ryan on stage at the bodybuilding expo in London. Tanned. Shredded. Fucking hell.
  30. 18 points
    **Note from Author: hey everyone, this is my first ever story on the forum, so be easy on me. I’m heavily inspired by @dredlifter’s hot stories, and I wished there was more content like his, so I decided to start something. Let me know what you think!** “Colton!!” My friend Shawn barrels down the hall, hugging me tight. I had just finished moving my stuff back into my dorm room for my Sophomore year at college, and I was very excited to be living on the same floor as all my best friends. I hadn’t seen them all summer, and to be honest, we weren’t very good at keeping up via text, but I knew we would be able to pick it right back up. “Hey Shawn!” I say, settling down from the hug. “How has your summer been?” “Great!” Shawn says, running his tan fingers through his blonde hair, which has grown out a little bit longer from what I remembered. “I have been skateboarding a lot this summer, and just spending a lot of time exploring the city. You’ll never guess what I..” At that point, our friend, and Shawn’s roommate, James comes out of the floor elevator, arms full of stuff and yells over at us. We run over and start helping him out. We head down to his car, and realize he has at least 4 more loads to bring up, even with all of us helping. “James, I didn’t realize you had so much shit!” I say, lugging a oscillating fan over my shoulder. “Whatever,” James snarks, “You’re young, and you guys are in shape, you can do a few loads.” “In shape” might have been somewhat of an overstatement. I’m about 6 feet tall, 190ish pounds, some of it is muscle, but I definitely like to eat a little more than I like to go to the gym. Shawn and James are about the same height as well, but they’re quite a bit skinnier than me, at about 155 pounds. I was always jealous of their metabolism, but I am proud of the few muscles I have that they would never be able to have. “Yeah, this isn’t gonna be a big deal.” Shawn says, grabbing one of the bigger suitcases and carrying it back towards the dorm. I never really thought Shawn could carry something that heavy, but I’m glad to not have to carry that up later. After a couple trips, we’re pretty sweaty, covered in August sweat, with a few more trips to go. James whips off his shirt, revealing his slender body, and Shawn and I follow suit, although I am always somewhat hesitant to strip, as I’m a little uncomfortable with my extra fluff. I look over at Shawn, and he’s tan as hell and, although still thin, has the ridges or abs and the start of some pecs and biceps balling up as he moves around. “Damn Shawn, you been eating like crazy this summer?!” James notes. “Something like that!” Shawn says, dismissively, as he jokingly flexes at us, his newly existent biceps popping up. He grabs a bottle of water, and I look at Shawn directly for the first time since we have gotten back. Is he a little taller than me? I mean, we’re 20, so he might’ve had some puberty left in him. I hope I’ve got that coming up soon too... He looks good. I guess I’ve always thought he looks good. His blonde hair, his smooth, thin body, and his pretty big dick, which I’ve seen in the dorm showers quite a few times. He’s not shy. Maybe I’m just more self conscious than my friends... I only recently have come to grips with the fact that I am gay. You’d think I would know that, what with all the gay porn I’ve watched since I was a kid, but it took a lot of therapy to undo the religious guilt I felt. I know Shawn isn’t gay, because he’s pretty obsessed with this girl Izzy from his Bio class last semester, and he’s not afraid to share all the details with us. I haven’t told Shawn and James that I’m gay yet, it felt weird to text them over the summer, but I plan to soon. Maybe later this week. Before school ramps up, for sure. We finally finish unloading all of James’ stuff, and we chill in their room for a little while, just catching up about our summers. “I mostly just worked,” James shares. “My dad’s bakery has been booming, and I needed the cash. I’ve gotten pretty good at baking though! Too bad we have to live in the dorms for two years here.. I guess I may not be able to maintain my skills!” “I bet we could bake at Izzy’s place!” Shawn says. We look over at him, surprised. “Oh, haha, I guess I forgot to text y’all, I had my internship here over the summer, and she was actually one of the other interns. We got to talking, and we’ve now been dating for a few months now!” “Congrats man!” I say, crossing my legs, trying not to plump up think of Shawn’s now-wiry body pulsing next to Izzy, “She lives close?” “Yeah, just across the street. You’ll probably have the room to yourself quite a bit, James.” Shawn laughs, and nudges James, winking. We roll our eyes, and James asks, “It is too bad Alex has to drop out over the summer. Do you know who your new roommate is?” I had been planning to room with our friend Alex this year, but a few weeks ago his Mom passed away, and he had to take a gap year. I had hoped nobody else would sign up for my room, but a few days ago someone named Kyle showed up on the housing website. I tried looking him up on social media, but all he had was a Facebook account that hasn’t been updated in 4 years. The profile picture wasn’t even a picture of him, just some artwork from a video game I didn’t recognize. “I don’t know him, but his name is Kyle!” I say. “He seems like a nerd, so we will probably get along, I hope.” “Oh cool. ” James says, “I’m surprised we haven’t seen him moving in yet!” “Yeah, but we have been in here a little while. You guys want to head back to my room with me, and see if he’s in there?” “I’m actually gonna shower up, and head over to Izzy’s place.” Shawn says, “I want to have some ‘quality time’ before we start feeling the stress of the semester. She had something she wanted to give me too, but she said it was a secret.” “Huh.” I say, “You will have to keep us in the loop. What about you James, you in to meet my roommate?” “Nah, I’m pretty pooped. I think I’m gonna crash for the night. I’ll meet him tomorrow!” “No worries. Probably better to not swarm him all at once anyways.” I head out of their room, and head across the hall to my room, the door propped open. I look in, and on the other wall of our room is a giant pride flag, with the correlating desk covered in Drag race stickers, pride kitsch, all the works. “I guess Kyle’s gay too,” I think to myself. I hope he’s hot. Or maybe I don’t. I’m still figuring out myself as a gay guy. Even if he was hot, available, and wanted to fuck his roommate, I wasn’t sure if I was ready. I piddle around the room, setting up my desk just the way I want, anxious to meet my roommate. After about 20 minutes, the door creaks open more, and a little guy, wrapped in a towel, furry chest on display, comes in. “Oh hey! You must be Colton!” He says, “I’m Kyle! Nice to meet you. Sorry I’m just hopping out of the shower. I have been moving in for the past little while!” “Nice to meet you too Kyle!” I stand up, walking over to shake his hand. As I walk over, I realize just how short he is, his eyes about on level with my collar bones. After I shake his hand, and we chit chat for a bit he starts getting dressed, changing locker room style, keeping the towel on even after putting on shorts. He’s a shy little cutie, but not really my type. I’m relieved. I think we’ll get along, and it will be good to have another gay guy around as I work on coming out to everyone. It’s a small school, so I haven’t known any other out gay men. Not that I have been looking, before now. After we settle in, he starts playing league of legends on his computer, headphones on, and I start playing the FFVII remake I tried to finish before school started. Just as I’m getting in the groove, there’s a knock on my door. “Come in.” Kyle shouts at the door, not looking up from his game. “Hey!” Shawn peeks in, “I’m Shawn, one of Colton’s friends. I live right down the hall. I just wanted to swing in to see if Colton wanted to come workout with me in the morning, before classes start.” “Workout?! Since when?” I say. “Just a few weeks ago,” Shawn says, blushing. “Izzy was telling me that she likes her men buff, so I’m trying to fulfill the fantasy.” “Ah! That’s why you look the way you do. I’m in, having some accountability should help me stay to a regimen. What time?” “Pretty early, like 6?” “Yeah, sounds good.” I reply. At this point, Kyle pulls his headphones down and looks over, “do y’all mind if I tag along? I just transferred, and I don’t really know anybody.” “Yeah, totally.” Shawn replies. “Our friend James might eventually join us too, but when I asked him, he looked at me like a maniac. His loss, when the three of us are jacked, he’ll be struggling to keep up!” I find myself crossing my legs once again at the thought of a jacked Shawn, but I laugh, and tell him to have a good time with Izzy. As Shawn heads out, Kyle wraps up his game, and pulls his headphones off and looks over at me. “I don’t mean to butt in, I hope I’m not crashing the party by asking to come along to the gym!” “No way,” I say, adamantly shaking my head. “Why would you even say that?” “I just don’t mean to.. intrude.” He pauses, “I know how it feels to have interrupted time with a crush.” “A crush?” I ask. “Oh!” Kyle asks, “I guess I misread the situation. I just felt some chemistry between you two.” “Well, to be honest, you’re not wrong.” I admit. “I have had a little bit of a crush on him, but I only recently even realized I was gay. I planned to come out to my friends tonight, but it just didn’t happen. I don’t think they’d care, but they’re also somewhat aloof. How’d you know?” “Call it men’s intuition,” he says. “You’re cute. You should be more confident. I mean, he seems straight, so maybe a confident crush on someone else?” “Haha, thanks for the advice, gay oracle.” I joke. “I’m just telling it like I see it. Do you know if there are any cute guys that will be at the gym tomorrow?” “Not sure, I never really go to the campus gym in the mornings. I’m more of an evening workout guy.” “Well, I’ll dress up, just in case.” And with that, Kyle puts his headphones back on and starts up another game. I grab a seltzer out of my fridge, play a little more of my game, and start wrapping up for bed. I’m wiped from the day, and end up turning in for the night pretty quickly. I fall asleep fast, not even disturbed by the clicking of the mouse echoing from Kyle’s rig, which would usually keep me up. I wake up around 5:45 to my alarm, and see Kyle already up and ready, stretching in some tight little shorts and XS JJ Malibu tank, showing off his tight butt, and surprisingly wide back. “Oh hey!” He says, seeing me get up and changed pretty quickly. “Do you want to head over to Shawn’s room, or meet him there?” “Let’s head across the hall. I’m about ready.” I say, slipping on an old t shirt, while brushing my teeth. I leave the room, Kyle following behind, and we head to Shawn and James’ room. I jiggle the handle, the door unlocked like usual, and there was Shawn, ready to go, in a shirt that looks just a little too tight on him, mixing something into a cup. “Hey guys,” he says, keeping his voice low to not wake up his roommate. “Izzy gave me some protein powder last night that her dad’s company makes. Do you want some?” “Nah,” I say. I always feel like my metabolism can’t keep up with the extra calories, I do my best to keep from gaining weight. Maybe protein would help, but I have just never felt comfortable with it. “I wouldn’t mind some!” Kyle pipes up, “I wouldn’t mind bulking up a bit. Maybe I can make up for my height with some more width!” Shawn whips up a water bottle for Kyle, and we head down the stairs and towards the campus gym. A perk of such a small campus is just how easy it is to walk everywhere. We get to the gym and head to the weight area. Shawn and Kyle look a little lost, I know Shawn has never stepped foot in this gym, and Kyle is probably looking at the early morning gym bros. They’re there en masse, the gym is much more crowded than I thought it would be. At least there’s views, and I look over at Kyle, who raises his eyebrows at me, gesturing at all the buff men, giving me a big thumbs up. I gesture over to the dumbbell rack, and start warming up with some 25 pounders. Shawn comes up next to me and warms up with some 10 pounders, and Kyle heads straight to the squat rack. I quickly move up to my max, this summer I was able to curl the 40s for reps, which I have been pretty proud of. I was surprised to see Shawn not far behind, curling the 30s with quite a bit of fervor. I go through my workout like usual, and Shawn follows behind me, obviously copying my workout. I don’t mind, and it feels good to be lifting more than him. Although, not as much more as I thought I would be. He’s only about 10-20 pounds behind me in most lifts. He must’ve really gone for it over the summer, getting those beginner gains before we got here. I look over at Kyle, and he’s talking to a few other guys at the squat rack, his shorts riding dangerously high on his ass, while a few others around him look on. He’s a bottom on a mission, and he’s letting the whole gym know. After about 45 minutes we wrap up with some stretches. Kyle starts talking to Shawn, “that’s the best I’ve ever felt during a workout. That protein powder was great!” “Yeah, Izzy said that it’s a new experimental protein. I didn’t really understand everything she was saying, but it has some preworkout components to it, so it just jazzes you up.” “I definitely feel ‘jazzed up’, but I thought it was just the men in there!” Kyle says, laughing. I laugh too, but I take a quick glimpse at his shorts, noticing he’s sporting a noticeable semi, as is Shawn. Welp, look at that, so am I now. We head down to the showers, and Shawn strips naked immediately. He looks great, his pump making him look even bigger than he did yesterday, and... do I find myself looking up into his eyes? I mean, I guess I noticed that he grew yesterday, but it’s even more noticeable now. I try not to look down, but there I go anyways, and I see his dick, still somewhat hard, looking as great as ever. I quickly head over to a shower stall and lock it, hoping I didn’t stare too much, or my erection was too noticeable. Him and Kyle follow shortly behind, taking the stalls to my left and right. The water starts flowing, and I get in and out. As I walk back to my locker, I notice that Shawn didn’t quite close the stall door all the way, and he’s straight up jerking off in the stall. He’s playing with his nipple while he leans against the wall, and looks like he is in pure ecstasy. Filing that away for later. I change, and, not wanting to wait around too long, head back to my room on my own. About 20 minutes later I hear some laughter coming down the hallway, and Kyle joins me in the room. “Hey Colton! Where did you go?!” “Oh, I just didn’t want to wait around for y’all. I take quick showers.” “Yeah, sorry about that. I usually do too, but I was just so horny, I ended up jerking off in the shower! It’s like I had to!! I have never felt that way before. I’m telling you, Colton, that protein powder is something else. I feel great too!! I mean, look at me! This is the best I have ever looked!” With that, Kyle flexed his arms, and he looks notably more muscular than he did this morning. I must not have been paying attention. I mean, his gym clothes are VERY tight. It is strange that both of them were jerking off in the showers, though. Must be some horny goat’s weed in that experimental mixture too. I may have to give it a go the next time we head to the gym.... To be continued!
  31. 18 points
    Nine “Spoken to your brother yet?” my dad asks me the next day as I’m sat next to him in his car and doing my seatbelt up. It’s another ridiculously hot day. I don’t wear vests much apart from when I’m training sometimes, but this morning I just thought, fuck it. So now I’m wearing a khaki green vest, which I have to admit, I look pretty fucking jacked in. “Nope!” I reply. “Don’t forget it’s his birthday in a few weeks!” “I’m not gonna be in a mood with him until then!” “Wouldn’t bloody put it past you!” my dad barks. I roll my tongue around the inside of my cheek to cover up my smirk. Dad clears his throat. “No doubt he’ll be out with those twat mates he hangs around with!” “So … you know the expo?” I say, not looking at my dad. Fuck. Why do I feel so nervous? “Do you think, like, Big Steve’ll wanna stick around late?” “Probably not!” I feel a kick to the stomach. “It’s just there’s, like, a show on the night.” “Oh yeah. Pretty boy’s competing, isn’t he?” “Who?” I say, playing ignorant but knowing full bloody well who my dad is referring to. I feel oddly nervous at the prospect of seeing Ryan today. That’s probably because of the jokey comments we’ve been leaving on each other’s Instagram profiles over the past few days. We seem to have this sort of banter going on with each other. “Bloody ponce face Ryan!” my dad says. “I thought you liked him?” I say, looking at my dad. “I do! He’s still a ponce face pretty boy though!” I roll my eyes and look out the window. “He’d get on well with your brother. Maybe we should invite him to Josh’s birthday barbecue?” Oh God. “What barbecue?” I ask, with a sudden dread. “You’d know if you hadn’t interrupted me. What d’ya reckon? Little barbecue at ours on the Sunday after his birthday? Not too many people, though.” “Will she be there?” “If you mean the woman who gave birth to you, yes!” I groan. “Fuck’s sake!” I say under my breath. “OI! Stop. Pissing. SWEARING!” I don’t say anything. I just fold my arms across my chest, my muscles bulging. God - this vest really does make me look jacked. “I might be busy that day!” I mumble. Dad gives me a stern look with his eyes narrowed and shakes his head. I look out of the side window and smirk. There’s no sign of Ryan when we get to the gym. I’m tempted to ask my dad if he’s working today, but something stops me. “Can I train first?” I ask him. I’m really in the mood to head to the gym floor, blast biceps and get seriously fucking pumped. Maybe it’s the vest. Plus, there’s a chance a certain 'ponce face pretty boy' might be in there training a client. “No you pissing well can’t!” my dad barks as he goes behind the front desk. Then he lets out a deep sigh. “Grab the laptop and go and sit in the gym!” he says, handing me the keys to his office, his tone lighter. “Do some social media stuff. THEN you can train!” I head to dad’s office to fetch the laptop, failing not to smirk at the fact that I’ve sort of got my own way. Then I head to the gym floor. There’s a commotion coming from the far left corner, with a few lads gathered around. I can see a guy I recognise with his top off. Something Boswell, but people call him Bozza. He’s one of the biggest lads who comes here. A proper monster, but he doesn’t really do much for me. He’s not exactly the best looking of lads for a start. This is one of the perks of working at your dad’s hardcore bodybuilding gym. You sometimes get to see big lads posing on the gym floor. Sometimes just wearing posing trunks. Though rarely the velvet ones, unfortunately. Why do so many lads prefer those tacky shiny ones? I feel a kick of adrenaline as I go over to the group. And then I suddenly notice something which causes my heart to leap into my fucking throat. Bozza’s not alone. Standing next to him in front of the large mirrors on the back wall of the gym and now removing a bright blue t-shirt with his name printed on the back is Ryan fucking North PT. The man who was doing impressions of a character from a kids film for me the other day is now pumped and ready to pose next to one of the gym’s biggest regulars. My stomach clenches and Big Steve nods at me as I reach the gathering of lads. And now Ryan’s bare torso is on display as well. Bigger and more fucking shredded in real life than in his pictures on Instagram. Big, flared lats contrasting with his tapered waist. Pecs like balloons that seem to be fighting for space. Super wide shoulders. And those big blocky abs. Fucking. HELL. I’m finally getting to see Ryan without a t-shirt on. My insides are doing all sorts of funny things. “Right, lads. Front double bicep!” someone calls. “One … two … three … HIT IT!” Ryan and Bozza both lift their arms up and I watch the muscles in Ryan’s incredible shoulders bunch up and tense and the peak of his biceps pop and explode. His meaty pumped triceps hanging below in beautiful curved shapes. Bloody hell. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him even if I wanted to. “BOOM!” Bozza barks as he hits the peak of the pose. HA - the cocky twat. “Come on, Bozza!” one of the lads shouts. I really wanna cheer on Ryan, but I don’t. “Front lat spread, lads. Ready? One … two … three … FLEX!” And now I’m watching Ryan’s lats flaring out. Curved and perfect. His back is so thick. A thin layer of sweat across his soft, bronzed skin. And in his reflection, I can see his perfectly shaped pecs lifted up. Jesus. His whole torso is breathtaking. Beautiful shape. Amazing aesthetics. Insane condition. Bozza lets out a loud bark again. Ryan says something in response that I don’t catch but makes some of the lads closer to him laugh. And now he’s smiling. That big, ridiculously handsome grin on his stupidly good looking face. And I’m rolling my tongue around my cheek to stop from smiling back. “Okay lads - most muscular! One … two … three … HIT IT!” I feel a surge of excitement as what’s coming. “BOOOOM!!” Bozza shouts as he cranks out the pose as instructed with his fists pushed together. Ryan’s face scrunches up as he hits his own phenomenal most muscular, before his mouth curls into this proud, bordering on smug grin. Pecs squeezing. Biceps popping. Triceps bulging. Bloody hell! And suddenly, in a surprise move, Ryan is leaning forward and hulking out into a crab most muscular with a cheeky, grizzly growl. Why am I not surprised that he’s a playful and animated poser? I half expect him to do his fucking Sloth impression mid-flex. Bozza responds by playfully hitting Ryan with his elbow and cranking down into his own crab most muscular. Mouth wide open. A big grizzly shout. The lads around them are cheering and laughing and going mad. “YES, lads!” Big Steve shouts. Then he nudges me. I look at him (feeling oddly nervous) and awkwardly smile, but I can’t say anything right now. And now they’ve stopped. And they’re linking hands in a friendly embrace. Bozza’s shoulder against Ryan’s. And his hand on his perfect back. Lucky fucking bastard. The lads crowded round start parting and drifting off. And a still topless Ryan turns around and clocks me and fuck - my stomach somersaults and I feel a sudden panic. Which is ridiculous. Absolutely fucking ridiculous. His eyes seem to have lit up at the sight of me. He nods and smiles, but I can’t help noticing that there’s something unusual in his expression. Nerves maybe? I try to smile back but I don’t think it works, because his expression suddenly drops. Jesus - I could probably write a book. 'How NOT to make friends and influence people. And also convince them that you’re a miserable little prick'. Someone starts talking to Ryan and I retreat to the gym desk with my dad’s laptop, images of Ryan’s peaked biceps, bulging shoulders, thick lats and perfect pecs embedded in my brain. God - if I was nervous about talking to him earlier, you can imagine how I’m feeling now. I know it’s just a matter of time before he comes over. Before he’s towering over me and talking to me. And sure enough, just as I'm opening up the Deano's Gym Twitter account, I spot him heading in my direction, his torso now covered up his bright blue t-shirt. My chest is tightening. My stomach is twisting. Fucking hell, Deano. Get it together you twat. “Alright!” he says. Wow - he definitely seems nervous. Maybe it’s me. Maybe he can tell that I’m nervous so that’s making him feel nervous. I say, “Alright,” back and nod. Ryan's eyes veer to my upper body. My bare arms and shoulders on display. I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but I fucking swear his mouth curls into a little smirk. Like he’s impressed by my muscle. I feel a weird fluttering in my chest. Yeah - this vest was a good choice today. “Lads kinda roped me into that!” he says, rolling his eyes. Maybe he thinks I don't approve? I just sort of smile and nod. And now he’s doing that thing where he clasps his fist with the other hand. Biceps bulging. Probably to fucking torture me just that little bit more. “What you up to?” he asks, nodding to the laptop. I don’t know why, but things feel kind of awkward. Like, not how they usually do when we talk to each other. “Erm … Twitter stuff!” Ryan nods. “Does anyone actually respond to that stuff?” he asks, his face relaxing into a smirk. I bite my lip and smile. “I dunno why my dad bothers with it!” Ryan folds his arms across his chest. His biceps fucking bulging. “So … thought of one yet?” he asks, his mouth curling into this mischievous grin. I know what he’s talking about, but I pretend I don’t. “What?” He widens his eyes. “A secret to confess!” I playfully roll my eyes and smirk. Ryan unfolds his arms and bites down on his bottom lip. He looks a little unsure all of a sudden. Maybe even a bit embarrassed. Like maybe he’s questioning this whole confession thing. Maybe thinking that the whole thing's just a bit stupid. “Oh - are you … staying here for a bit?” he mysteriously asks. “Think so!” He gives me a mysterious little smile then he tells me he’ll be back in a bit. I tell him okay, already excited at the prospect of him returning. I get back to tweeting on my dad's laptop. My body suddenly feels lighter somehow. And I’m finding it really fucking hard not to smile right now. And then I look up and see my dad glaring at me from the other side of the gym and fuck - my stomach twists sharply. He’s just giving me this unnerving stare. Fuck fuck fuck. I go back to the laptop, trying not to think about what might be going through my dad’s head right now. And now Ryan’s coming back with a holdall over his shoulder. And now I feel even more bloody nervous than I was before knowing my dad’s lurking behind us, even though he’s now talking to someone else and not paying attention. But still, I wish he’d fuck off. Ryan’s towering over me again. “Right - I don’t lend this out to just anyone!” he says, rummaging through his bag. What the fuck? And then he pulls out a DVD and hands it to me. It’s The Goonies. “I want it back on Monday so you’ve gotta promise me you’ll watch it before the end of the weekend!” I pull a face as I look at the cover, but I’m smiling too. “Is it really THAT good?” “YES!” he says excitedly. “It’s a classic, mate!” And then I spot something over Ryan’s shoulder which makes my chest tighten. My fucking dad walking up to us. For fuck’s sake. “Oi! Are YOU distracting my staff?” he asks, pointing at me. I roll my eyes and Ryan smirks at me. Dad’s asking him about his client from this morning. And a little about his prep for the show at the expo next weekend. Dad spots the DVD on the counter and picks it up. “What the bloody hell is this?” he asks, with his face screwed up. I pull a face and do a funny voice as if my dad’s stupid. “Errr … a DVD?” He jokingly holds it up to me and purses his lips as if he’s about to hit me with it. I roll my eyes. Ryan looks kind of shocked and weirded out. “Stop showing off!” he says to me. Like I’m a fucking kid. I look at Ryan and pull a face and he gives me a knowing smirk back. Dad finally fucks off, leaving me alone with Ryan again. “Monday!” Ryan says, pointing to the DVD. “Don’t forget to watch it!” he says, with a little smirk. “Then you’ll see how good my Sloth impression really is!” I roll my eyes and smirk. And then watch Ryan stride off in that extraordinarily confident way he walks, his lats flaring out under his t-shirt and his massive arse sticking out and stretching the material of his trackies. Thank God I’m sat behind this desk right now. Josh isn’t in when I get home. I still haven’t spoken to him since I walked out on the lunch with him and mum the other day. God knows what this fucking birthday barbecue is going to be like with mum there. It’s a few weeks off though so I don’t have to worry too much right now. I jump on my bed and load up Instagram on my phone. I feel a pinch of relief when the first post that comes up is from 212 class pro bodybuilder Tommy Foster. I don’t bother scrolling down any further. I have a message and feel a familiar pinch of excitement when I see it’s from Ryan. And now I’m laughing to myself, because he’s sent me a picture of himself pulling the stupid Sloth face with the text, “WATCHED IT YET??”. Fucking hell. He’s such a bloody nutter. I go to his profile, ignoring the most recent picture of him with his gorgeous blonde girlfriend (ugh!) and going to the most muscular shot of him in his house again in his shiny light blue trunks. I still can’t believe I got to see him pose earlier in the gym. I can’t believe I got to see him with his top off. Got to see his meaty traps. And flexed biceps. And wide lats. And perfect, blocky abs. Which are much, much hotter than Sebastian Wood’s, by the way. I put my phone on my bedside table and close my eyes. And now I’m imagining that it wasn’t Bozza who Ryan was posing against earlier, but me. The two of us stood side by side looking at our reflections in the mirror. Ryan towering over me. The height difference between us laughable. Short, stacked future 212 class pocket rocket versus a six foot tall, handsome as shit, Super Heavyweight monster. I open the drawer of my bedside table, take out a sock and pull it over my now hard cock under my boxers and trackies. And now I’m picturing me and Ryan both raising our arms up and hitting a joint front double bicep. Boom! My short, thick guns peaked. Ryan’s huge biceps flexing. And now we’re doing a front lat spread. Oooof. Lats flaring out. Tits jumping up. This is the fucking shit right here. And now it’s time for an abs and thighs pose. I throw my arms behind the back of my head. But before Ryan does the same, he outrageously slaps one of my thick, meaty quads. The cheeky bastard. I push my leg out and twist it. The muscles tense. Striations appear. The legs of a fucking freak. And Ryan carries on slapping the hard muscle, all the time grinning like crazy. And now I’m imagining crunching down on my wonky shaped abs. Fuck YES. Ryan cranks down too, releasing a loud hissing noise as he slams into the pose. His perfect abs popping through his stomach. Shredded and beautiful. That’s my boy. He twists to the side, showing off his shredded to fuck serratus and crazy intercostals. Yeah - my boy’s a freak. Beyond conditioned. A fucking anatomy chart come to life. Ryan scoots over to me. We’re still in our abs and thighs pose. He puts one arm around my shoulder and pushes one of his huge, shredded quads against mine so they’re touching. The sides of our mid-sections are touching too. Feeling his huge, veiny arm resting against the back of my neck. Skin on skin. Muscle on muscle. The heat and the scent of his huge, sweaty body consuming me. Ryan unwraps his arm from my shoulder because it’s time for the final pose. We lift our elbows and arms up in unison, Ryan playfully nudging my elbow with his and cheekily grinning at my reflection in the mirror. And then … at the same time … BOOM … Ryan and I bring our arms down and both crank into joint most muscular poses. “ARGGGHH!” Ryan shouts in a manic way as he hits the pose. Like the cocky bugger that he is. It usually annoys me when lads shout out and groan when they pose. Especially when they’re not even on stage. But it’s just Ryan having fun. That’s kind of his style. We can work on changing that. After I’ve convinced him to switch the tacky shiny trunks for some classy, velvet ones. I’m squeezing. Ryan’s squeezing. Biceps are popping. Veins are erupting. Traps are exploding. Two power-packed, testosterone-fuelled muscle bulls flexing and squeezing their mass. God YES. I just wanna flex and squeeze and show off my mass. GRRRR. Nothing else matters right now but muscle. Me and Ryan’s muscle. Obscene, hardcore bodybuilding freaks. The pair of us. People would shriek in horror at the sight of us. Some would throw up on the spot. And others would cream their fucking pants at the image of the two shredded muscle freaks squeezing the life out of their otherworldly mounds of beef. Ryan’s gritting his teeth. I’m smirking arrogantly. We KNOW what we've got. We know we’re freaks. This is what it’s all about. Pure, unfiltered, unadulterated muscle. Nothing but fucking muscle. We stop squeezing, both just smirking like crazy. Ryan turns to face me and hits me on the shoulder. Instant fucking chemistry. I know what he wants me to do. I turn to face him. This big, mischievous grin on his absurdly handsome face. He leans down and puts his forehead against mine. Fuck. His face so close to mine. His nose. His big brown eyes. He’s got really nice eyes. We lift our arms and elbows up and then … we crank down into a final head to head most muscular, both opening our mouths and growling loudly as we do so (what can I say - maybe Ryan’s a bad influence). Two pumped up turbo-charged freaks in the most brutal pose possible. Flexing and flexing. Squeezing and squeezing. Ryan’s traps right there. His muscle exploding before my eyes. His pecs. His guns. His brutal shoulders. Gorgeous dick thin skin and crazy veins over huge mounds of sweat covered slabs of muscle mass. I can feel his breath. Smell his hot, masculine, muscle freak scent. Two huge muscle boys. Flexing and squeezing and … ARRGGHH … OH FUCK … I’m cumming and groaning into my pillow. My whole body is juddering. And now I’m just lying on my bed in post-orgasmic bliss. I pull on the waistband of my trackies, carefully remove the sock from my now wet cock and throw it under my bed. I close my eyes, sink my face into my pillow and wrap my own arm around myself. My left hand now gripping my back. Absolutely, unequivocally NOT imagining that it belongs to Ryan North.
  32. 17 points
    This is based on a role play I had - - I only deserve half the credit but I'll take all the blame if you deliver it with a flex... He is known as a dangerous hit man. I think I see muscle and power under the leather jacket, but it's so big I can't imagine someone actually fills it with just muscle. He must be thick with a 'protective layer' over the muscles that were primed a decade ago. I'll have to think of a way to talk him out of that jacket and see for myself. I understand he is usually paid for his services by billionaires. Fat, ugly older men lusting for his body - but he only sells death. Believe me, I've checked. I'm no billionaire, but I have nice clothes, a great car and a very expensive watch that shows both taste and affluence. I'm sure he won't be impressed as he is big enough to take what he wants even if it isn't a toned body. Weight and height still equal control in most situations. But I'm the kind of handsome that is cute. I can turn as many men with my looks as he can with his size. I've got to try if he can't be bought... I feel like he keeps looking at me. Am I piquing his interest? Nah - he looks more like a thug wanting to hustle my watch off of me. I'm drawn back to the size of that jacket as it spreads and creaks against his back. Quite a few beasts must have given their pelts for that thing. One moment I think I can see his is really muscular, the next I think it's a trick of height, thickness, leather and positioning. Either way he is good looking enough to try. A slightly receding hairline which shows maturity. I get so tired of 'kids' that think they're the shit. Nice skin, but not unaffected by time and weather and maybe even some smiles. Oh, God - he just looked at me and gave me one of those smiles. He looked squarely at me, raised his drink (a cocktail, mind you, not some stupid cheap beer) and fucking smiled. He's standing up. Definitely a solid man. Perhaps six two or better? Gotta be tipping over 260. And now that he has unfolded from his small table, there's clearly no belly, so maybe he IS jacked?!! "It's really hot in here, and you are under the only air conditioner. May I?" He was indicating his jacket and the chair at my table. He didn't wait for a response to either. He just peeled it off. None of this slow, teasing crap. He just stripped out of the jacket, gave a little bunch of his muscles like feeling free, sat quickly and pulled his chair closer. Looked me in the eye. And then pulled closer again so our thighs touched and I had to turn sideways. It happened so quickly I could hardly process. He wasn't as tall as I thought. There were boots. That made the mass more impressive. The t-shirt certainly clung. I expected a roid gut but didn't see it. This was what a real life Thor or Hercules must feel like up close. Only very real. And so close. "Yeah, I'm big." I was excited before, but mister show off without showing off found a particular button of mine. Proximity. Shit - I hate being so easy a mark. "I believe you are looking for me. Hired me for a job, correct?" He picked up a decent sized stone used on the table as a paper weight for the menus. He just cracked it with a squeeze and dropped the pieces in front of me, put his forearms on the table, which creaked under the weight as he leaned on it, indicating the pieces. "That is what you buy. Destruction power." "That doesn't impress me Jimbo, or Butch, or whatever your name is. If you don't want to do as you're told, we have no business to discuss," I say while purposely keeping my eyes on him rather than the broken rock OR his corded forearms he obviously wanted seen. "Choose to stay and obey or walk away now." He looked at me deeply, kind of scrunched his nose and tilted his head with a look of incredulity that turned to a smirk that landed in pursed lips and a nod of OK.He put his arm around me and pulled me even closer. I kept looking forward. He came terrifically close to my ear and whispered, "I'm staying. You get one painful death of the societal asshole of your choice for your fee. And my name is Mark. Are you scared I might snuff you instead, little man?" "Welcome to a night you might really enjoy, Mark. I'm Max. I'm not a bit afraid of you near me. I like the heat you emanate and I'm very attracted to well-built men. But I didn't hire you because I want to slather you with compliments or act like a size queen. I have much better ideas than that." I know he wants to show off. I know he likes o hurt people that deserve it. And I'm dick-hardingly afraid he might like doing it to anyone he chooses, too. A cash payment through a surrogate already happened, so what would he care if I disappeared. "See that guy over there at the end of the bar? He enjoys touching his nieces after his workouts. He makes them do things no woman should have o do unless she chooses. He fancies himself a pretty big man and doesn't seem o care if folks know. He beat the hell out of his brother when he confronted him about it. I hired you to make an impression on him. Literally. Leave a mark he can't erase." He pulled from me mid description and created space between us and the table as though he wouldn't wait for me to finish. "Dead or alive?" I stand and straddle him in the space he created. He doesn't flinch. I take his face in my hands and turn him from the asshole to look at me. "I want his straight, abusive ass to fear you and still cum because he wants you. Impress me, Mark." I move to kiss him, but instead, pull his attention deeper into me through his eyes and just give him a wink - - then pull my scruff across his face as I move in to his ear and whisper, "I'm going to make YOU cum before the night is over. But if you refer to me as anything but an equal again, I'll kill you." I stand up and give my hand to pull him up. He takes it and lets me help. He smiles at my boldness, winks back, rolls his shoulders with a tiny pec bounce and flex. He heads to the end of the bar. The man there sees me as he gulps another beer. Mark exchanges a few quiet words with the man. I couldn't make them out. Mark wraps his arm around the fucker's shoulder and gives him a squeeze. I see the lowlife recoil at being embraced and then watch him try to release himself and then wince in pain. He goes pale as he looks up at me as he was certainly told to do. Mark moves him from his chair without releasing the hold and brings him to my table. People around the bar don't seem to notice, but I see his feet barely touch the ground. He is slammed into the bench along the wall across from me. "This is my boss, Max. He says you're a very bad guy, friend. Why don't we start with a nice, heartfelt apology, asshole?" Mark said this almost cheerily, with encouragement in his voice. The target tries to jump free of the the table. I think he might make it past Mark, but Mark was letting him think he had an out. Mark uses one arm to contain the escape, let's him struggle and even punch him right in the face twice and then just opens his paw and shoves the man back down. He touches his face to make sure there is no blood and all the while the smaller man is staring at Mark's arm. I notice he's kind of keeping his own hands on the gigantic arm. Not a direct fondle, but more of a check of size and ability. But he is afraid and impressed at once. He makes one more pull on that arm with all his force, sure he's going to move it and Mark just takes the big, oak table with his free hand and pins the punk against the wall. It takes his breath and he releases his grip and nearly screams, "Who are you!? What do you want from me!?" Mark puts his arm on the table and flexes it. The dude instantly shuts up and looks at the sinews or the biceps and the impossible size of the triceps. That isn't an arm. It is an entity. The abuser stares slack-jawed. Mark flexes and relaxes it a few times, moves a little closer and opens for a gape of the forearm, flexing it into more width than a bowling ball. He slides closer to the man and clenches his fist which his admirer cannot avoid looking at. He then pulls slowly into one more biceps pose, lifts his elbow from the table so it brings the arm right under the man's nose. He tries to look away but is only able for a fraction of a second. Mark moves his peak to touch the tip of the man's nose. After staying there for longer than even I felt comfortable - with the inferior man panting and trying to pull his head back further, Mark simply said, "Look," and he flexed like he hadn't actually been flexing before. The head split right under the man's nose and grew so much it pushed his nose up. It made him inhale and I believe the pheromones from Mark's underarm hit. The man looked dizzy. I realized his arms were pinned by the table. He was STRAINING to touch the prize now. He began to mumble words like amazing and big and huge and hard and good and such. Mark turns to look at me while leaving his arm in place. He starts to push backward like he's doing a rear deltoid fly and I see he's really putting pressure on the man's head. "This dick has a weak brain. He's easy to control. You, however, have power Max. I can tell you are turned on by me and you can handle yourself in my presence." Mark took his free hand and pulled the table back from nearly slicing the man in half and his arms immediately flew up to the arm. He was both flailing to end the cranial pressure and groping the very tool being used to punish him. Suddenly, Mark let him go and said, "I told you to apologize to my master." The perpetrator gained quick confidence from the air in his lungs and said, "The fuck I will," and swiftly lifted an arm to swing at me. Mark grabbed his hand before he swung and simply shook his head as they locked eyes. The man so angry and Mark so calm. "Wrong answer." Mark squeezed and breaks the mans hand. He slides over fast and throws and arm around him and catches his mouth just as a scream of pain started to escape. It ended up sounding like a big laugh to others, I bet. The dude looked at me with his eyes full of terror and then bit Mark's hand. Instead of pulling away or calling out or becoming rougher, Mark gritted his teeth and moved his hand from the man's mouth to his forehead to pull his head back to the wall. He let his own blood drip down the man's forehead and just left him huffing in anger, pain and frustration. "I'll ask just one last time." The lesser man looks up at Mark with tears in his eyes. I start to wonder if I should have hired Mark for this. I mean, I'm not really into pain, but he seems to be. Both giving and receiving. It seems second nature. I get lost for a moment thinking where he must have come from? I quickly return to the moment remembering he said master. That's when I realized my pants were wet with pre-cum. I get even more excited that he seems impressed with my mental control. Perhaps I can please him? I suddenly make a move because I want Mark's attention. "He's not going to apologize for shit, " I say. "Damn...right...mother...fucker," he manages to gasp out softly but with defiance. I see Mark's eyes go wide. "Are you calling him that, or me, little man?" "You're...both...pro...bably...homos. Big...asshole...small dick." A pause as he tries to free his head. "Prove....me other...wise." That's it. Yes, I'm happily bisexual, but who wouldn't be attracted to the gravity of a specimen like this, I'm thinking. And he just showed he is VERY desirous to see more of Mark. "The best part of this moment, prick, is you will both pay for your crimes against decency and manhood, and the last thing you'll remember before you die is how this man - this incredible mountain of a man - made you cum in lust without your ability to resist. You will want him, fear him and obey him and hate him before the night is over. He will enjoy it and you will orgasm in awe and respect. Then he'll snuff the life out of you...mother fucker." I had moved close to his face and nearly whispered the last two words and spat in his face. He started to react violently and I see Mark move lightening quickly and stop his forward momentum by his throat. Holding him back while he swings at us both - connecting with Mark and being prevented from doing so to me - Mark leans across the table in front of him and I rise up to meet him and we kiss right in front of him. "This is going to be fun," Mark declares.
  33. 17 points
    Eight I can’t stop thinking about checking Instagram. I keep looking at the app icon on my phone. Hovering my finger over it. Ever since Ryan called me by my pocket rocket nickname and told me he’d looked at my profile the other day on the drive to Portsmouth. I keep wondering if he’s replied to the, “Looking pretty mint, mate!” comment I left on that one post of his. The one with the crab most muscular shot. Or if he’s maybe commented on any of my pics. Or even just liked any of them. And I also keep wondering whether he’s posted anything new. Plus, well, I wouldn’t mind checking out his stage shots again. His bulging biceps. His erupting triceps. That cheeky, handsome grin. Those thick, shredded glutes. Fucking hell those glutes. I almost can’t believe he’s competing at that expo in London next weekend. That explains why he’s so fucking jacked and tanned. I keep thinking about when he invited me to watch him compete. It’s on in the evening though and I’m not really sure whether Big Steve was planning to stay that long. I should find out I guess. I looked up at that Goonies film he was going on about. I watched a video of that Truffle Shuffle thing on YouTube, which is basically a fat kid shaking and wobbling his belly fat while pulling a funny face. I’m not exactly sure how Ryan would do that with those big blocky abs of his. I almost went to look for the film on Netflix too, then suddenly thought, 'What the fuck am I doing?' and stopped. I look at the Instagram app on my phone again. Hover my finger over it (again). For fuck’s sake. All of this because I’m scared to see Woody and Henderson again. In case it does the same thing to me as it did last week. In case I end up getting hammered on a work night and snogging some guy I don’t even really fancy in a gay club again. God - I’d bet they’d fucking love it if they knew I’d ended up in that club when I was drunk. I bet they’d fucking gloat. Okay - maybe not Henderson. But Woody definitely would. I’ve thought about just unfollowing them before, but I don’t want them to feel like they’ve got one over on me. To think of me as being pathetic and immature for unfollowing them. Even though we’re not friends. Even though we never really were friends. I sometimes think we could have been. If Woody didn’t look the way he did. And I didn’t have all these feelings. And the other thing is - if I unfollow them, then regret it and follow them again they’ll know straight away. The notification will come up. Deano The Pocket Rocket followed you. And then I’ll just look like an absolute fucking twat. My brother pops his head round my bedroom door. “Yo, lil’ broski. You ready?” My chest tightens. I’m not ready, but I sigh and stand up from my bed. “Suppose!” Josh smirks at me as I stand up from my bed and grab my wallet. Today’s the day I’m seeing mum with Josh. We’re going for a pub lunch. Jesus. I just know what she's gonna be like. All chatty and extra nice. Like everything’s normal. Like she hasn’t done anything wrong. And, as predicted, that’s exactly what she’s like. Right from the moment we see her outside the bar. Joshua walks up and hugs her, her arms squeezed around his back. My stomach twists sharply at the image. I can’t remember the last time my mum hugged me. And now she’s smiling at me. This part nervous, part happy smile. “You okay, Dean?” I don’t know what to say. I just give her a half-arsed smile and pretend to be nice. Josh rolls his eyes at me behind mum’s back and then gives me a warning look. I’m not really sure why though. I agreed to go to lunch with my mum. But I don’t remember agreeing to be civil to her. Not long after and the three of us are sitting at a table. Mum and Josh are opposite me. Which feels kinda fitting. Them together on one side. Me on the other by myself. The waitress comes with my beer. I might as well get a couple of free drinks out of my mum while I have the chance. “So you’re working at your dad’s gym over the summer?” “Mmm-hmm,” I say, not looking at my mum and taking a swig of beer. “You still looking for a job somewhere else?” Josh asks me. “D said he was gonna apply to Tesco’s.” “No, I didn’t!” I scoff. “Dad was the one who mentioned Tesco’s!” “Sounds like a plan,” my mum says, way too eagerly. I screw my face up. “Working at Tesco’s?” I pick up my pint glass. “Why the fuck would I wanna do that?” I scoff, before taking another sip. Josh is glaring at me and shaking his head slowly behind my mum. She can’t say anything to me though. About swearing. About anything. She lost that right years ago. I can pretty much act however I want. And now she’s asking Joshua about his building job. Nice diversion tactics, mum. I guess she’s good at that. Diverting. Avoiding. Running out on her family. She pretty much leaves me alone when we’re eating. She mentions Gary’s daughter, Chloe a few times which pisses me off. Josh is all over her. Acting like she’s a fucking saint. Acting like she didn’t let us down at Christmas like she did when we were younger. “How was your burger, Dean?” she asks as the waitress takes my plate away. I shrug without looking at her. “Was alright!” I say getting my phone out of my pocket. Joshua lets out a loud, pointed sigh. I look up and glare at him. Cheeky fucking bastard. He shakes his head and asks mum to move so he can go to the toilet. And now it’s just me and her. God. More awkwardness. She looks at me and sighs. “Dean - I know you’re still mad at me for not coming round at Christmas!” I don’t know what to say. I look out of the window of the bar. “I was so behind on everything. It was just manic. With work. And shopping for Chloe.” ARGH! Bloody Chloe. Gary’s daughter. Who isn’t even hers! “We had to go and see Gary’s mum on Christmas Eve!” she sighs. “She’s not well, Deano. She’s got dementia. His dad’s put her in her home.” I feel a stab of guilt at hearing that. I look up at her and see an expression in her face which makes my stomach twist. “Why didn’t you just text us?” She sighs. “Because … I was nervous about letting you down. Again! I remembered how you were that one Christmas I didn’t come round!” She scratches her forehead a little too hard. Like she’s beating herself up. “I had a feeling you’d be angry at me. I guess I just … wanted to delay the inevitable. You being upset with me. I didn’t wanna ruin Christmas.” YOUR Christmas, I think. But I don’t say it. She sighs. “You are … SO bloody headstrong. And stubborn. Just like your dad!” I don’t say anything. I look at the table, playing with the inside of my mouth with my tongue. Just like my dad. She clears her throat. “So, how have things been at university?” My stomach tightens. I look at her and shrug. “Fine?” She nods, looking a little unsure all of a sudden. “Just … I know you had a bit of trouble. Just before Easter.” I don’t believe this. My chest tightens. “Are you fucking SERIOUS?” My mum looks taken aback. And hurt. Joshua comes back to the table. “What’s going on?!” he asks accusingly, clearly noticing mum’s expression. Then he gives me this stern look. Like I’M THE FUCKING BAD GUY. “It’s okay, Josh!” my mum says, putting her hand on his forearm. UGH! “What have you said, D?” ARGH!! My stomach’s twisting. I can not fucking believe this. I feel like standing up and storming out of the bar. Instead, I just turn to Josh and put on a sarcastic tone. “Mum was just asking me about getting suspended from uni. Although I don’t know how she’d even know, been as I haven’t seen her for ages!” Josh pulls a face. “Yeah because YOU’VE been ignoring her. Anyway, why wouldn’t she know? She’s your mum!” I scoff. “When it suits her!” “D!” Josh says, his voice rising. “It’s okay, Josh!” “No, it’s not. For God’s sake, Deano - just GROW UP!” I feel an anger rising up in my chest. I can’t believe my brother’s being like this. “Mum didn’t come round on Christmas Eve ‘cause she was busy. So what? She has a life. And we’re not kids any more! Jesus!” Surely he knows that’s not just it? Surely he knows there’s more to it? “And it was MONTHS ago. And you DID get suspended from uni. I don’t know why you keep getting so worked up every time someone mentions it!” “Josh!” my mum says, in a warning tone. And then she gives me this concerned look. The way she’s looked at me so many times. When she knows something’s wrong. Which she always does. Because she’s my mum. I turn and look out of the window again. Fucking hell. I can’t do this. “I’m sorry I asked about uni, Dean,” my mum says. “Let’s talk about something else!” I pick up my pint glass and chug. I feel so fucking angry. At mum. And Josh. Why isn’t anyone ever on MY side? Why can’t anyone ever see things from my point of view? Why does it always feel like people are determined to fight against me? Josh is talking about a job he’s working on. I put my pint glass down and without looking at either him or mum, I stand up and walk away from the table and towards the door of the bar. “Fuckin’ hell! D!” Josh shouts after me. But I just keep walking. I just want to get away. Anywhere from fucking here. To any place that doesn't include my shit mum and my brother who should be on my side but never is. I end up on the beach. I’m just sat here with my forearms resting on my knees looking at the wreckage of the burnt West Pier. I used to see this pier all the time when I was a kid, and I never questioned what happened to it. I just saw it for what it was. Never thinking about the reason why it looked the way it did. I’m feeling a bit calmer. Maybe I shouldn’t have walked out. But I was SO pissed off. I can’t believe my mum tried to talk to me about getting suspended from uni. Like I’d open up to her after hardly seeing or speaking to her for fucking months. And I can’t believe Josh. Doesn’t he get that I don’t wanna talk about being suspended? About what I did? And now my dad’s gonna be pissed at me for walking out. He’ll probably make me work five days a week instead of three. Probably make me work in the Juice Bar all day. Ban me from the gym floor. I’ll barely see Ryan North. Or any of the other lads who work there. I take my phone out of my pocket. I don’t know why, but I feel ready to check Instagram again. To take the plunge. My chest tightens as I open up the app. No Woody in the first post. No Henderson either. I’ve got tons of notifications. From lads at uni. From Tony. From a bunch of random users, I don’t know. And from Ryan North PT. Fuck. I feel an odd jolt of excitement. Because Ryan has followed me. He’s liked the comment I left on his profile. And he’s replied. “Cheers big/little fella!” with the winky face tongue out emoji. Cheeky fucker! But I’m smiling. I can’t seem to stop. And now I’m on Ryan’s page again. Looking at a recent picture of him flexing a most muscular in a pair of (ugh!) shiny light blue posers in what I presume is his house. A basket full of washing next to him. Jesus. He’s so conditioned! Lines in his quads. Awesome sweeps. White socks pulled up to his calves. (Why is even THAT kind of hot?) Big blocky abs popping through his stomach. Those huge bulging biceps like croquet balls, flexed. Those triceps sticking out. The thick pecs which are popping and balloon-like. And (of course) that face. That stupidly good looking face which weirdly gets even more stupidly good looking every time I see it. That big cheeky grin. And the hair which is like mine (only better). It’s crazy to think that I was sat next to this dude the other day in the passenger seat of his car. And all of THAT was going on under his clothes. I like the post. And type a comment. That is one jacked secret nerd! #heyyouguuuys But I stop myself from hitting send. Is that just a really dumb thing to write? Would he find it even remotely funny? I’m not good with the Instagram stuff like Woody is. Fuck it. I hit send and the comment has been posted. I close down the app before I see something I don’t want to, stand up and head home. I suppose I’d better go and face my dad and his bulging forehead vein. I hope we didn’t get any post today. My stomach clenches as I walk through the door. Things are pretty quiet. Maybe my dad doesn’t know. Maybe Josh hasn’t come home yet. But as soon as I walk into the kitchen and see my dad looking at me, I know he knows. But it’s not the reaction I was expecting. It’s not an angry look. It’s more of a tired ‘what are we gonna do with you’ look. “Nice lunch?” he says sarcastically, his eyes widening. I roll my eyes and sit down opposite him. “Where’s Josh?” “Upstairs!” He breathes a deep sigh. “‘Kin ‘ell, Deano!” he says, calmly and shaking his head. “You didn’t say I had to stay till the end of lunch,” I say. He gives me a stern look in response, but he doesn’t seem that pissed off. I swear I can even see a hint of a smirk. “What happened?” I shrug and look at the table instead of my dad. “She was asking me about uni! Getting suspended!” “AND?” I scoff. “Just … pissed me off! Like she cares!” “Of course she bloody cares! She’s your mum.” “And she’s always going on about Gary’s daughter!” “Oh, Deano. Come on!” my dad says, like I’m being stupid. “What?” “You’re her bloody son! You think if I shacked up with a new woman who had kids they’d … Jesus … even be able to COMPARE to you and your brother?” I don’t say anything. He lets out a deep sigh. “You never forgave her did you?” I look up at my dad, my stomach twisting. “For walking out?” he adds. “Did YOU?” “Yes. Eventually! But she was my wife. Not my mother.” I look out of the window at the back of the kitchen and into the garden. I suddenly have a memory of me and Josh bouncing on a trampoline we used to have. Mum standing next to it and holding both of my hands as I bounced up and down, because I was nervous of falling over. Whereas Josh was completely fearless. But I knew I’d be safe because my mum was gripping me tight. And she was smiling at me. This big happy smile. And I know my dad is right. That I never really have forgiven her for leaving. The thing is, I was always my mum’s favourite when we were kids. I was mum’s. Josh’s was dad’s. That’s just the way it was. I was her “little Deanosaurus” as she used to call me. I loved my mum. Like all kids do I guess. And she always knew when I was upset. Always knew when something was wrong. She always gave me that look. The same look she gave me today when I was sat opposite her in the bar and she was asking me about getting suspended from uni. But then, one day, she fucking left. She just left! How am I supposed to forgive her for that? “Your mum’s trying, Deano,” my dad says. “And I don’t think she’s gonna stop.” I don’t know what to say. I keep looking down at the table. Rolling my tongue around the inside of my mouth. And then I finally speak. “Have you ever seen that film ... The Goonies?” I look up at my dad. His face is screwed up in confusion. “What the bloody hell kind of question is THAT?” I smile and shake my head. “Doesn’t matter!” I go up to my room, hoping my brother doesn’t come out of his. I’m really not in the mood to deal with him right now. I jump on my bed with my phone and load up the Instagram app, feeling that familiar dread I always do, though it seems to be lessening a little each time. I have new notifications. And now I’m smiling. Because one is from Ryan. He’s responded to my secret nerd comment. Fuck. I feel ridiculously excited as I read it. HAHAHA!! Cheeky little/big shit. Fully admit to being a nerd. Now it’s YOUR turn to make a confession! (Thinking face emoji and smirking face emoji) #ConfessionOfAJackedMidget And now I’m laughing as I stare into my phone. Jacked Midget? Cheeky bastard! Hmmm. So Ryan wants a confession? Okay, how about … I went to a gay club when I was drunk last week and ended up kissing a bloke. Or I can’t stop thinking about my classmate Woody and his Harry Potter boxer wearing boyfriend and the time I was on top of him on his bed and my tongue was in his mouth. Or the fact that I got suspended from Muscle University because I did something really fucking shitty to them which they definitely didn’t deserve. Or how about … I can’t forgive my mum for walking out on me when I was a kid, even though I secretly maybe want to. Or that I walked out on my mum today because her giving me that look of concern just fucking killed me and reminded me of when I was a kid and she was living with us and we were one big happy family. A normal fucking family. Or how about the fact that I don’t think my dad would ever look at me the same way again if he knew I sometimes wanted to kiss lads. Just like I want to kiss you, Ryan North PT. You stupidly good looking bastard. And to feel your biceps. And touch your blocky abs. And maybe do some things to your massive fucking arse which I’ve never done before because I’ve only ever kissed two guys and nothing more. I close down the Instagram app, throw my phone down the bed, roll on my side and close my eyes. I'll think of something I can actually confess to Ryan later.
  34. 17 points
    Five “Does dad know she’s here?” I ask Josh, ignoring my mum. He rolls his eyes. “Fuck’s sake, D!” I look at my mum, who I haven’t seen since last October. Eight fucking months ago. She looks nervous. Good! “I haven’t seen you for a while!” she says. I have to stop myself from scoffing. Because who’s fucking fault is THAT? Okay - I admit, it’s partly my fault. I could have seen her at Easter. And after Christmas. After I was supposed to see her. But I refused to. I ignored her texts and calls. And have been doing so ever since. I don’t respond to her. I just stand there rolling my tongue around the inside of my mouth. “How’s university?” I shrug. “Fine!” She nods. She’s just standing there. And Josh is just standing there. It’s so awkward. And then it hits me. This is why my brother asked me what I was doing after work today. He set this up. Or more like, she asked him to set this up. I bet my mum is who Josh was talking to on the phone the other night when we were out. That’s why he looked so suspicious. And why he couldn’t look me in the eye when he told me it was work. I knew he was lying. I fold my arms across my chest and stare at my mum. “Good Christmas?” I ask, coldly. “D!” Josh says sternly. Something flickers in my mum’s expression. “No, Josh. It’s okay. Dean - I’m sorry about what happened at Christmas.” My stomach twists. I feel slightly less angry. “I should have called!” She should have called, but she didn’t. “She HAS been trying to get in touch with you, D!” Josh says. Ugh. Why is he taking her side? She walked out on him as much as she walked out on me. “Chloe’s been asking about you!” she says. “She keeps asking me if her big brother still looks like The Hulk!” Something pulls in my stomach. “I’m not her brother,” I say coldly. “Fuckin’ ell, Deano!” Josh says, sighing and shaking his head. Okay, maybe that was taking things too far. But it’s the truth. I’m not related to Gary's daughter. And mum is not her real mother. She just came with the guy she chose to shack up with after she abandoned her own family. It’s so fucked up. That girl sees her more than me and Josh did growing up. And she’s OUR fucking mother. “Need a shower,” I announce. Then I spin around and walk out of the kitchen and up the stairs, leaving my traitor brother with my shit mum who I hadn’t seen for EIGHT fucking months. I hear them talking as I walk up the stairs. Josh sounding all sympathetic. ARGH! I’m fucking pissed off. The way Josh was talking to me. The way he rolled his eyes. Like I’m being unreasonable. Like I’m in the wrong. Like I’m the fucking bad guy in this situation. I’m sick to death of always feeling like the bad guy. So here’s the deal with Christmas. Since mum left, it’s always just been me, dad, Josh, nan and grandad. And that’s fine. It works. Sure, it used to bother me that I didn’t see my mum on Christmas Day when I was a kid. But I got used to it. She’d always come round on Christmas Eve instead to give us our presents. It became a bit of a tradition I guess. Except one year when I was about twelve, she didn’t come round. She didn’t call either. I’ll never forget how I felt that night. I thought my mum had finally had enough of me. That she didn’t want to be my mum anymore. I kinda changed a bit after that. Started getting into trouble at school. Started back chatting with the teachers and taking the piss out of certain students. Easy targets I guess. I basically turned into a right little shit. Obviously as me and Josh got older, the Christmas Eve thing became less about my mum bringing us presents and more just about seeing her. It was just tradition that she’d come round and see us. And then last Christmas, the same thing happened that it did when I was twelve. My mum didn’t come round on Christmas Eve. She didn’t call. She didn’t text. Until fucking BOXING DAY. I was so pissed off. I know I’m not a kid anymore but it was my first Christmas home from university and I hadn’t seen her for months. I wasn’t going to be home for months after that. And all she had to do was send a fucking text. She tried to see me before I went back to Montgomery, but I ignored her calls and messages. Josh said she was coming round one day and I sneaked out and went round to Tony’s house to avoid seeing her. That was last Christmas. And I guess I still haven’t forgiven her. A few hours later I’m heading downstairs. I’m sure Josh has gone out. My dad’s in the kitchen making food. I know Josh would have told him what happened earlier. “Alright?” he says to me as I walk in. “Want some dinner?” “Suppose!” I say, sitting down. Dad clears his throat loudly. There’s an awkward silence. “Did you know she was coming round?” I ask him. “SHE has a name!” Dad says with his back to me. I scoff. He puts a plate in front of me. “Don’t you think you’ve punished your mum for long enough?” I pull a face and take a mouthful of rice. My dad just glares at me with his eyes narrowed then shakes his head. “You’re a stubborn little bastard!” he says, with a little smirk. “You get that from me.” Along with most other things. “What did you think of Ryan?” Pecs. Arms. ARSE. Stupidly good looking. I shrug. “Seems alright!” “I think he’s a good lad!” my dad replies. “Loves himself a bit though!” I’d frigging love myself if I looked like that. “His hair’s a bit poncey!” I ignore him, tucking into my dinner. “Who would have a haircut like THAT?” he says, looking at my hair pointedly and raising an eyebrow. I can’t help it. I smile and shake my head. “Fuckin ‘ELL!” my dad shouts. “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you bloody smile since you’ve got back!” I furrow my eyebrows at him. That’s not true. Fuck - maybe it is. He gently taps my foot with his under the table. “Is everything okay at university, mate?” My stomach clenches. He only calls me mate when he’s concerned about me. “Yeah!” I say with a shrug. He nods and looks at me suspiciously. Like he doesn’t believe me. “Your teachers have been okay with you since … you know?” He’s talking about my suspension. I nod. “Mmmm.” Dad was naturally pissed off when I got suspended. Obviously, he knows what I did. He called me a ‘stupid little prick’. Told me to grow up and that I wasn’t at fucking school anymore. And that he couldn’t believe I didn’t think the teachers wouldn’t notice the Facebook post. Or the “stupid little prank” as he called it. He doesn’t know the real reason I posted that picture of Woody kissing Henderson on the cheek to the uni Facebook page, though. But then, not many people do. “And those … two lads?” My stomach twists. “You’ve been staying out of their way?” “YES!” I snap, as if he’s nagging me, wanting to get away from this conversation as quickly as possible. “Good!” he says. “So how d’you feel about going to this bodybuilding expo in London with Big Steve a week on Saturday?” “What - to work?” “If you can call if that.” I’ve helped out at these expos before. It mostly just involves sitting at a booth wearing a “DEANO’S GYM” t-shirt for most of the day. “Why aren’t you going?” I ask. “I have that bloody physio appointment for my knee in the afternoon. Besides, I don’t need to be there. And I’ve been to dozens of these things before.” “Mmmm!” “You don’t have to go. I can ask one of the other lads!” Bloody hell. What’s gotten into him? “It’s just a LONG day,” I say, with a sigh. “There’ll be pro bodybuilders there. You might even see some of your uni mates.” Fuck. My stomach clenches at the thought. What if they’re there? Smiling at each other. Knocking each other’s shoulders. “Can I think about it?” I don’t have to work at the gym the next day. I manage to avoid Josh, who I haven’t spoken to since the incident with mum. I’m still pissed off at him. For tricking me. For not telling me she was coming round. For the way he made out that I was in the wrong for being pissed at her. I’m lying on my bed not doing a huge amount. It’s so frigging hot today. I’m just looking at the view from my bedroom window. I can hear the seagulls squawking. Being back home, away from all the drama at Muscle University, it feels like my life has been put on hold. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want it to come to an end. Just have the summer last forever so I can train at my dad’s gym and spend the rest of the time hiding away in my room. But I also can’t help thinking that there might be something out there in Brighton for me. I know, with this town being what it is and me looking the way I do, there’d be people out there who’d want to get to know me. At least for the way I look. Or to be more specific, because of my body. I think that’s partly why I liked the idea of getting a job instead of working at the gym. Maybe I could have actually met some of those types of people. Whether they’d want to stick around once they got to know me is another matter. Once they found out I was a loud-mouthed twat who spent months harassing two fellow students for being gay. Then publicly outed them in a world where being gay is kind of taboo. Some of those people in that club I walked past the other night would probably want to get to know me. But they wouldn’t be bodybuilders. They wouldn’t be him. I pick up my phone and check Twitter. The tweet on the Deano’s Gym account me and Ryan posted at work yesterday has gotten a pitiful three likes. Which doesn’t surprise me. I don’t know why my dad even bothers with it. Twitter’s just a place for people to moan about Brexit and show off how clever they are. No one cares about a discount membership to a rundown shit hole bodybuilding gym. I casually check the likes, and then I see something which causes my chest to tighten. One of them is from Ryan North PT. I sit up as I check out his account. I sort of hate myself right now for being so interested in Ryan's Twitter page. He’s got a picture of himself smiling and folding his huge arms in a black t-shirt as his profile picture. The guy looks fucking good. There’s no other pics on his recent feed. It’s all pretty boring stuff. But one thing really gets my attention. There’s a link to his Instagram account in his bio. Fuck. I’ve been managing to keep up my abstinence from Instagram, but I guess I have to check it sooner or later. Maybe it is kind of ridiculous to not check it just because there’s a chance I’ll see Woody and Henderson on there. I click the link to Ryan’s Instagram profile and holy fuck. The first thing I see is his bare pecs. Thick and round. Even fucking better than I imagined them to be. And his abs. Which are blocky and square. And the glutes. Holy fuck the glutes. His gigantic arse looks even better in a pair of posers than it does stretching out his gym trackies. Jesus. The whole of Ryan’s physique is just incredible. Amazing shape. Brilliant aesthetics. No wonder my dad hired him. I’m also reminded of just how fucking good looking he is. And I won’t lie, I’m fucking tenting in my shorts right now. Which isn’t unusual. I’m turned on by certain, huge, shredded bodybuilders. And Ryan is one hell of a huge, shredded bodybuilder. Sometimes, when this happens to me, I feel kind of wrong. Like I shouldn’t be having these thoughts. But most of the time - I just go with it. Muscle makes me hard. It’s as simple as that. Okay - maybe it’s not THAT simple, but I try not to get too worked up about it. I see certain stuff, certain people. Male and female. And my body reacts. And right now, my body is fucking reacting to the Instagram shot of Ryan North blasting down into a monster crab most muscular on stage in a pair of blue posing trunks. They’re not the velvet ones which I think are awesome, but at least they’re not the really shiny kind that fucking Woody and Henderson always wear. I type out a comment on the pic, even though it’s a few months old. “Looking pretty mint, mate!” That’s a pretty standard comment for me. I never go over the top with complimenting bodybuilders on Instagram. I’ll leave that to the likes of Woody. But as I go to hit send, I hesitate. Is it too much? I only met the dude yesterday. Is it weird that I’ve found him on Instagram? That I’m checking out his social media a day after meeting him? For fuck’s sake, Deano. Stop being such a knob. He’s just a guy from work. I hit send. And I guess since I’m commenting on his pictures, I should follow him as well. And done. I’m now following Ryan North PT - Deano’s Gym’s latest personal trainer. But then - I get this weird and unexpected flutter of excitement at the thought of Ryan seeing that I’ve followed him. Of him reading the comment and approving of it. Maybe even liking it. Of him following me back and checking out the pictures on my Instagram page. Of him looking at my competition shots and occasional topless selfies and being impressed by how much of a jacked up little pocket rocket I am. I scroll down Ryan’s page. My chest tightens when I spot a picture of him with a blonde girl. I click on it and read the caption where he’s calling her “his beautiful girl” and I swear my heart actually drops a little. Which is fucking ridiculous. Because of course Ryan has a girlfriend. He’s a six foot tall champion bodybuilder with an amazing physique. And he’s good looking. STUPIDLY good looking. I close the app and put my phone down on my bed, resisting the urge to check the main feed of posts from the people I follow. But now I’m thinking about Woody. And I’m wondering if he’s updated his page. Wondering if there’s any clue on there as to what he’s been up to this week. And whether he’s seen Henderson. Surely he wouldn’t have? Not this early on in the summer anyway. He’ll be at his parent’s in Surrey. Henderson will be at his mum’s wherever she lives up North. His dad passed away. I remember him telling me that. I don’t know why, but the memory of that is so clear. One of those memories that seems to be lodged in my brain for whatever reason. Maybe it’s better if I just look at Woody’s profile now. I’m going to end up seeing something eventually. Fuck it. I pick up my phone, my chest tightening. I go to his profile. I know it by heart (woody_bodybuilder). And FUCK. There they are. On his very latest picture posted two days ago. Woody and Luke smiling into the camera. Luke in those stupid glasses. Woody wearing that ridiculous Johnny Bravo t-shirt which I know Henderson bought for him because he never wore anything like that before he showed up. And the location is Woody’s parents in Surrey. This heavy feeling of sadness hits me. Because they look … happy. They look SO fucking happy. I throw my phone on the bed. Why the FUCK did I look? I look out my bedroom window again. Their smiling faces are embedded in my brain. I pick up my phone and reply to the message Tony sent me yesterday. Tony you skinny cunt. Wanna do that drinking session tonight? I’m in the mood to get shit faced. I hit send and close my eyes. I don’t know what I’m feeling. This horrible, crippling mix of anger and confusion. And like I want to forget. Like I want to go crazy. I suddenly have this strong desire to go crazy. Tony texts back with an enthusiastic yes. I go downstairs and rummage through my dad’s liquor cabinet and take a swig of something sharp which takes like aniseed. I shudder as it burns my mouth. It tastes fucking gross. I look at the bottle, then I put it to my lips again, tip my head back and just keep chugging.
  35. 16 points
    Twelve “Big Steve’s coming to pick you at seven-thirty on Saturday!” my dad says to me from the driving seat of his Land Rover. “What?!” I cry. “Are you serious?” He shoots me a wide-eyed look. “Won’t bloody hurt you to get up early for once.” I let out a groan. My dad imitates me with a big, loud groan which I can’t help smiling at. Saturday is the day of the bodybuilding expo in London. And all going well, I’ll get to see Ryan compete in the evening. I’ll get to see him crunch his perfect abs, tense his shredded quads, blow up his bronzed biceps and show off his big round glutes in whatever colour posers he’ll choose to wear. “We don’t have to wear those Deano’s Gym t-shirts do we?” “Yes you pissing well do!” he barks. “You’ll wear that poncey bloody Montgomery University hoodie but you won’t wear a t-shirt with the name of your dad’s gym on it?” “It’s embarrassing!” He gives me a sharp look. “Thanks a bleedin’ lot!” He actually looks a little offended. I wonder if I’ve gone too far. “Try having YOU for a son. That’s bloody embarrassing!” “Yeah yeah!” I mutter. And now I’m thinking about what Ryan said to me the other day when I was next to him on his sofa. That dad always talks about me. And hardly never about Josh. And now I’m smirking. I can’t help it. “What are YOU smirking at?” I widen my eyes and shrug as if to say nothing and he just looks at me suspiciously with his eyes narrowed. “Are any of your uni mates going to the expo?” I screw my face up and shrug. I turn away and look out of the side window, trying to ignore the twisting feeling in my stomach. Because now I’m wondering again whether there’s a possibility that they’ll be there. What if I actually run into Woody and Henderson at the expo on Saturday? I try to push the thought to the back of my mind. “Most of them live up North,” I say quietly. “Don’t bloody blame ‘em! Cost of house prices down here.” “Can I work on the gym floor today?” I ask, my stomach twinging with nerves. “As long as you don’t spend all day nattering to Ryan. Swapping hairstyle tips.” “Is he in today?” I ask, not looking at my dad. My stomach clenching further. “Think so. Yeah - he is. He’s got a client this morning!” I bite my lip, trying to cover up my smile. I haven’t seen Ryan for the past few days. Not since I went to his flat and sat next to him on his sofa. Not since I sat in his car and told him I got suspended from university. I still can’t believe I did that. There have been moments over the past few days where I’ve regretted telling him. I never really open to people like that. Not even my two oldest school mates, Tony and Nick know I got suspended. But, I dunno, there’s something different about Ryan. I didn’t plan to tell him, but I think maybe I kind of sensed that he’d be okay with it. I’m excited to see him again. But, for whatever reason, the thought of doing so is making me feel oddly nervous. “Your brother's seeing your mum this afternoon!” my dad tells me. “Great!” I mumble, pulling a face. “They’re taking Chloe to Preston Park.” I feel a sharp tug in my stomach and my dad looks at me wide-eyed. “You can have the afternoon off if you want!” he says, looking at me pointedly. “Hmmm? Go with them!” I shake my head, roll my eyes and look out of the window again to the sea. “And you better bloody behave yourself at Josh’s barbecue!” For fuck’s sake. Will my dad ever stop treating me like a fucking kid? “No sneaking out of the house to see twat face Tony like you did when she came round after Christmas!” “Will there be alcohol?” He shoots me a stern look. “And NO getting pissed and making a show of yourself either!” I roll my eyes. “Maybe I’ll just get pissed and tell her what I think of her?” I say, smirking to myself. “You better bloody NOT!” I feel so nervous when I’m walking into the gym with my dad. Which is fucking ridiculous. Because I see Ryan practically every day. But I guess, after the other day, things have changed now. It feels like there’s been some sort of cosmic shift in our friendship. I jump behind the desk on the gym floor, trying not to make it look like I’m actively looking for Ryan. Even though I know he’s here somewhere. I can almost sense his presence. And just as I open up my dad’s laptop, I spot him. Standing over his client who’s doing a set on the bench press. Wearing a tight fitted black t-shirt. One hand clasped over his fist in the way he often does. His huge, croquet ball biceps bulging. His thick triceps sticking out. (Jesus.) Looking as stupidly good looking as he always does. Six foot Super Heavyweight muscle stud Ryan North. Three days out from competing in his next bodybuilding show. A show I'm actually going to get to watch. All the time I’m looking at my dad’s laptop, I’m wondering whether Ryan has noticed me. I look up every now and then but I don’t catch him looking over. I know it’s only a matter of time before he comes over though. I could so easily check Instagram on this laptop. Log in to my account. See all the people I follow. Maybe I’ll get some kind of clue as to whether certain people I follow will be at the expo on Saturday. Maybe I’ll see a dozen recent posts from Ryan flexing and practising his poses in his Union Jack posers. Maybe I’ll read a drunken DM from him telling me how much he was dying to lean over and fucking kiss me the other day when we were sitting in his car outside my house. I’m smirking into the laptop at that thought. And then my heart fucking jumps into my throat. Because Ryan North PT is walking straight towards me. All six foot and two hundred plus pounds of him. I look up. He’s smiling, but I don’t know, he looks a bit nervous. Am I imagining that? Is it because I told him I got suspended from uni? My stomach clenches. Has his opinion of me changed since I told him that? “Alright, D!” I think that’s the first time he’s called me that. I nod. “Alright?” Is it weird that I love that he has the same haircut as me? Slicked back at the top. Shaved around the sides and back. I wish I was a mini Ryan. Rather than being a mini version of my dad. “That’s me done for the week!” he tells me, clasping his hand around his fist again. Biceps bulging. Triceps sticking out. Is he doing that on fucking purpose? Just to torture me? “Oh right!” I reply. I feel a weird pull in my stomach. “I’ve got the next few days to concentrate on prep," he explains. "You’re still staying for the show, yeah?” I nod. “Yep!” Ryan’s mouth curls into a mischievous little grin. He seems genuinely pleased that I’m staying for the show. Maybe he just wants everyone he meets to see him on stage shredded and flexing with his trunks wedged in the crack of his obscenely huge arse? “You’re not wearing the Union Jack posers are you?” His mouth drops open in surprise. “Oi! What’s wrong with Union Jack posers?!” he cries, but he’s smiling too. I pull an eeek face. “Cheeky fucker!” he teases, but he’s smiling too. “Everyone loves those trunks!” I’m tempted to make a comment. Everyone apart from your girlfriend that is. Who’s scared of what her family and friends will think if they see pictures of you tanned up and shredded and flexing in your shiny posers. Who gets off on the fact that her boyfriend’s big but is embarrassed about the fact she’s going out with a jacked to fuck muscle freak who loves nothing more than to stomp around bodybuilding stages cranking out most musculars with his trunks shoved into the crack of his big greedy glutes. Unlike me, Ryan, who would never be embarrassed by you. Who’d fucking do anything to be with a guy like you. Union Jack posing trunks, multiple daily Sloth impressions and all. “Anyway - they’re better than those red … velvet ones I’ve seen on you wearing on your Instagram!” he says, playfully screwing up his face. I smirk and bite my lip. But then my chest tightens. Because I’m suddenly remembering a time when someone else said something very similar to me about my preference for velvet posing trunks. When I was stood over him in his bedroom wearing a pair. Right before I posed for him. Right before we switched places and he posed for me. Right before I sat on his bed and got so turned on watching him flex his huge pecs and squeeze his blocky abs that I lunged towards him and kissed him. Right before he kissed me back. Before I felt his pecs on mine. My shoulders against his. The heat coming from his perfect body. His soft, sticky skin that smelt like him. Muscle on muscle. Skin on skin. Right before I felt like I was going to die because I was doing the thing I’d wanted to do for so long. Right before I kissed Sebastian Wood. “So are you, like, one of those weirdos who can go a whole day without checking Instagram?” “Erm …” I say, my stomach clenching. Ryan's just smirking at me with an eyebrow raised. “I’ve DM’d you, like, three pictures of me doing my Sloth impression!” My chest flutters. I bite my lip and smile back at him. “I’m sort of having a break. From Instagram!” I explain Ryan just nods and smiles at me. But the way he’s looking at me, studying my face even - it’s like he senses there’s maybe more to it than that. But he doesn’t say anything. Then his attention is turned to the entrance of the gym floor. “Oi oi!” he says to me, wide-eyed. “Haven’t seen those lads in here before!” I turn to where Ryan is looking and my heart fucking drops. Because walking towards us is my brother Josh and his mate Smithy. Only this time he's not wearing his padded Superman costume. What the fuck are they doing here? “Mr Biceps!” Smithy shouts, pointing at me. Fucking hell. I look at Ryan, who’s furrowing his eyebrows and smirking at me. “Yo, little broski!” Josh says as he approaches the desk. I feel oddly nervous about Joshua meeting Ryan. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because of the kind of thoughts I’ve been having about him. “Thought you were seeing mum?” I ask my brother. “I am later!” Josh is looking right at Ryan. It’s kind of awkward. Smithy leans forward to look over the desk. “Are you wearing your shiny pants under there?” I roll my eyes. There’s a pause. Josh is looking at me. Ryan is looking at me. Oh God, it’s awkward. “Erm, Ryan - this is … Josh!” I say, my stomach clenching. My voice sounding way more nervous than I’d like it too. Ryan looks surprised. I wonder fucking why. “Oh - the older brother!” “The good looking one!” Josh says. I pull a face and roll my eyes. Even though he’s not exactly lying. “Did you two get lost on the way to the pub or something?” I ask. I look at Ryan and he’s grinning. “This is my mate Smithy,” Josh says to Ryan. “No relation!” “Fucking ‘ell!” Smithy cries, as he looks at Ryan. “It’s like looking in a mirror!” He fucking wishes. “What - one of those distorted mirrors you get in a funhouse?” I joke. Ryan tips his head back and laughs. Fuck. My chest flutters. Because I just made Ryan laugh. “Yeah! And I’m looking at one right now,” Smithy says, pointing to me. “In this one, I’m short, wide and ugly!” Josh laughs. I give Smithy a fake sarcastic smile. Fucking twat. “That’s a bit harsh!” Ryan says, with his face screwed up. Bloody hell. “He knows it’s just banter!” Smithy says lightly. Ryan pulls a face. I can’t believe he just stuck up for me. No one ever sticks up for me. My chest is expanding. My insides are doing something funny. “So you’re a personal trainer?” Josh asks Ryan. “Yep!” he replies, in a short tone. “I could do with getting a trainer!” Smithy says. Ryan puts a hand on Smithy's shoulder and gives it a squeeze. (Lucky Smithy.) “You’re in luck, mate. I offer a ten per cent discount to Love Island contestant wannabe wankers!” Josh tips his head back and laughs. My mouth drops but I’m laughing too. I fucking love it. “Nice to meet you, Josh!” Ryan says, shaking his hand. “See you, Saturday, D!” he says to me. I suddenly feel this incredible warmth. “And check your Instagram!” he says, with this mischievous little smirk. Then, without acknowledging Smithy, Ryan walks off. Smithy screws his face up. “Bit of a twat!” he says. He’s clearly riled up by what just happened. Josh looks at me and we exchange knowing smirks. Josh and Smithy finally leave me alone to train. And now I’m just sitting here with this happy buzz going through me. Because of Ryan. Because he stuck up for me when Smithy made that twatty joke about the way I look. Because he put Smithy in his place in the most epic way possible. And because he’s sent me messages on Instagram. Messages that he’s eager for me to check. Messages I could so easily read on my phone right now as I’m overseeing the gym floor. Once I’ve re-downloaded the Instagram app, obviously. Which I now kind of have to do. (Who am I kidding? Which I now WANT to do.) I’m gonna wait until I get home. Until I’m by myself and lying on my bed. It doesn’t feel right to do it when I’m not surrounded by a room full of gym-goers, including my brother and his twat mate. It almost feels, I dunno - too special or something. Plus - I kind of like the idea of waiting. The discipline of resisting the urge to check. I’m good at waiting I guess. I waited so long for Sebastian Wood. For a chance to act on my feelings. I can wait a few hours to check whatever no doubt awesome and funny messages Ryan North PT has sent me over Instagram. No one’s in when I get back home. Dad’s still at the gym. Josh is out - maybe still at the park with mum and Gary's daughter. My stomach tightens when I picture them all together. Mum doting over Josh. Chloe all over him. Thinking how he’s the nice one of mum’s sons. The fun one. I push the thought away. I jump on my bed and start to re-download the Instagram app to my phone. My chest expanding. God - it’s fucking ridiculous how excited I am about the prospect of reading the messages Ryan’s sent me. It’s only when I open up the app and see a post from my favourite Montgomery University teacher, Mike Hancox, that I remember why I deleted it in the first place. I’m feeling brave though. I scroll down the main feed of recent posts a little. For some reason, I’m not feeling too nervous about coming across a post from Woody or Luke right now (which I don’t). And then I do the thing I re-downloaded the app to do. I check my DM’s. My chest expanding even more. Ryan was exaggerating slightly on the picture front, but he has sent me one of him doing his Sloth face. It was sent Monday night after I went to his, with the text, “Next time you’re doing the face!” It’s ridiculous how much I’m smiling right now as I look at the message and picture of Ryan’s face. Completely fucking absurd. There’s one before that. Asking me if I’m hungover on Sunday and calling me a “shot monster” from when me and the lads bumped into him at the pub with Katie. And then there’s a final message which was sent yesterday. “How would you feel about being introduced to Dom and Cole??” So Ryan’s inviting me round to his flat again? Huh. Barely able to keep from smiling, I go to his page and fuck - there’s a picture of him at Infinity Fitness which was posted yesterday, topless and hitting a side tricep pose in a pair of black boxers shorts with his trackies round his ankles. Quads veiny. Thick pecs bulging off his chest like balloons. Shoulders looking nuts. And his big, crazy triceps popping out to a cartoonish degree. But it’s the caption that is really catching my attention. Fun fact: My favourite film as a kid was The Goonies. I also do a mad Sloth impression. Just ask @deano_pocket_rocket (tongue out winking face emoji). #HeyYouGuys #SecretNerd Fuuuuck. I feel like I want to melt into my mattress. He’s writing captions about me and copying me into posts. And he’s invited me round to his flat again. But why? And now my mind is racing. I can’t seem to stop it. And I can’t stop myself from thinking, wondering, that maybe (fuck!), just maybe there’s something going on here. Between me and Ryan North. Stupidly handsome Super Heavyweight muscle God Ryan North. The messages. The caption. Lending me his DVD. Inviting me to his house. Is all of this just him being friendly? Is it all just normal new mate stuff? Because I can’t shake this feeling that something more is going on. Ryan seeming pleased and excited when I told him I’d be watching him compete on Saturday. The atmosphere in the room when we were sitting on his sofa the other day when I went to his flat. And the atmosphere in his car when we were parked outside my house. His reaction when I did the Sloth impression. That, “Awww!” Like he thought I was being cute or something. The way he looked down at my legs. The way he fucking looked at ME. Is all of that because … fuck … Ryan North actually likes me? Is there any chance that I’ve found a bodybuilder who has the same thoughts and feelings about other bodybuilders that I do? Even though he’s got a girlfriend. A gorgeous stunning girlfriend whose back he was gently touching last Saturday afternoon? My stomach clenches sharply. Or is all of this just my imagination going crazy? Am I seeing something that isn’t there? Is all of this just wishful thinking? Do I just want Ryan to like me so badly because I like him? I go to the main page of Ryan’s Instagram profile. There’s a picture of him and Katie, smiling into the camera. Heads closer together. My stomach churns. And my chest tightens. I look at Ryan’s message again inviting me round to his. I could so easily reply. Something a bit cheeky. “Only if there’s alcohol.” “That depends. Will you be doing cringeworthy impressions of the characters?” But I don’t reply. Something is stopping me from doing so. And that horrible feeling in my stomach is still there. Because I’ve been here before. Lusting after a guy I can’t have. Thinking about him all the time. Constantly checking his Instagram. Practically obsessing over him. Did that ever really stop? I close down Instagram, put my phone on my bedside table and slide down my bed. Maybe I need to stop this now. Stop all of these messages and banter with Ryan over Instagram. Put an end to these little trips to Ryan’s flat before I get in any deeper than I already am. Before I’m lying here on my bed on a Wednesday afternoon, thinking about nothing but him. Thinking about his smile. And how fucking good he smells. Thinking about his huge arms. And the way he always does that thing where he clenches his fist and his biceps bulge and pop. Before I’m thinking about his thick pecs. And his perfect blocky abs I got to see the other night in the flesh when he lifted up his t-shirt up to do the Truffle Shuffle. And that big, round fucking arse of his. Much bigger and hotter than Sebastian Wood’s. Maybe I need to stop. Right now. Before I’m lying here on my bed, my eyes closed and the side of my face sunk into my pillow, with my hand wrapped around my back again. Just like I was doing last week. Absolutely, unequivocally NOT imagining that it belongs to Ryan North PT. Fucking. Hell.
  36. 16 points
    (Author's note: Any similarities to real-life fraternities and sororities is purely coincidental and not intended.) Jason stared at his reflection in the upstairs bathroom of the Alpha Chi Lambda fraternity house, admiring his godlike physique. Though using the word "fraternity," the Axls, as they were known, were a co-ed fraternity emphasizing all-inclusiveness and community service. Right now, however, all of the Axls were asleep, bathed in the afterglow of what was the best sex of their lives and their first orgy of the school year. The entire house smelled of cum, since the 6'3", 300-pound muscle god thoroughly fucked everyone in the house at least once the night before. This has become a tradition of his ever since he started college three years ago. At the start of every semester, the various off-campus houses on Greek Row get a visit from "the Alpha," as he has become known. Taller, more muscular, stronger, and more virile than any man has a right to be, he owns every room and building he walks into, having even the most masculine and heterosexual guys going gay for him. He is the only alpha male in any room he's in, his ruggedly handsome looks, Mr. Olympia-worthy physique, and porn star cock commanding the respect, awe, and lust of all onlookers. Every fraternity wants him as a member, but he has turned them all down. He prefers to silently rule over all of the Greeks as their unseen king, whispering decrees to the chapter president of each organization. Jason turns to hear the sounds of the Axls waking up, their groans and moans punctuated with exclamations of post-coital bliss. "Holy shit. Did we just meet a god?" "I think we did, brother. That was definitely the Alpha." "Think he'll give us an encore performance?" "I sure as hell hope so. That was too fuckin' amazing." Jason smiles, his cock slowly swelling with blood and lust. He always stayed for two nights at each house he visited, giving orgies that would last well into Sunday. Since it was Saturday and no one had class that day or the next, he was free to thoroughly grease these Axls as only he could. He dropped the towel exposing his orgasm-inducing body and cock, and turned from the mirror to make his way to the Axls. It was time for round two.
  37. 16 points
    Had some time tonight, and wrote this quick. I have an ending planned, but feedback welcomed. Max is newly 40 years old, straddling two jobs, one that is very unique. Enjoy! “Hey Max, before you go . . .” It was Tracy, the desk clerk, stopping Max Sharpe as he was leaving the special gym after his shift. “What’s up Trace?” Max just worked his four hours, and was eager to head out. “Ken didn’t show for his shift, and there’s a pump class starting in five minutes. Is there any way you could stay?” This was the second time. Gerry covered for Ken yesterday, and no one had seen Ken since Sunday. “Dammit Ken,” Max grumbled. Tracy had her puppy-dog eyes in full effect. “Fine, but he seriously owes me when he shows up.” In truth, Max didn’t want anything from Ken. Ken was a tool. No fluff about it. First impressions from everyone were he had talent, but to say Ken was arrogant was saying there’s a lot of tea in China. Max remembered when Ken maxed out the K2000 machine, boasting to the gym, on Facebook, and Twitter that the owner would have to try harder if he didn’t want Ken running off to start his own lower gym. That’s what they were called: lower gyms. The owner came through, releasing the K3000, which no one could top. “Max, if you hurry, you can warmup.” “What level pump?” “It’s a masterclass, five definite and one tentative.” “Ken was teaching a masterclass? Wow!” Max had some trouble hiding his surprise. “Okay, I’ll be in room two, if it’s open.” “All yours, and thanks. Okay to lockup?” “Yeah, might as well. Have a good one!” “Goodnight Max.” “And let’s take it to 5 over your static min. We’ll pulse up and back down to no less than 5 for five minutes, and rest at 12 for three minutes to finish this set,” Max instructed in his best Mr. Rogers voice. Ten minutes later and the small class was placing their tubes in the cleaner. Dwayne, a younger guy, probably in his thirties, stayed behind. “Can I ask why you’re not the primary instructor for this class? You’re great at this. This is one of the best pumps I’ve had in two years. Seriously man, this class would be packed if you were in the driver’s seat.” “Uh, thanks Dwayne. I teach the intro courses, Manual I & II.” “Oh, you mean stretching and pumping?” “Yep, and clamping, ballooning, edging, etc, but I sub both the weights classes and the pumping classes. Can’t teach ‘em all.” “Right, well, thanks for the class. I’m going to head out.” “Okay, g’night Dwayne.” Max was glad to be rid of him. Some of the guys seemed to be confused about what the gym’s priorities were, despite the rules. As in, you weren’t allowed to cum, or to be seen outright masturbating; and you certainly couldn’t have sex of any kind. Max was always able to separate his passion for size from lust. Some new members fizzled out, thinking lower gyms were for hooking up with well-endowed men, only to be shunned by the strictly enforced rules. Max knew Dwayne was hitting on him, especially since his eyes kept darting below Max’s waist before he could put on his apron. All men wore aprons in the gym, changing upon arrival. The aprons covered from the waist to several inches above the knees in the front and covering the ass with an elastic band on the bare sides. Shirts and shoes had to be worn with aprons, unless you were in a workshop (class). Almost all of the machines in the open air room could be accessed by lifting the apron and stepping into the holders. Max finished resetting the room for tomorrow’s Man II class, and turned off the workshop room lights. He passed through the main machine room, pausing at the K3000. Despite knowing he was alone, Max checked over his shoulder, ensuring the room was empty. Max stepped onto the machine deck, and sat on the truncated seat. Leaning down, he adjusted the weights to 10lb shy of highest limit. Max removed his restriction ring, setting it atop the machine box, and lowered his soft but thick length into the holding tube. He tightened the grips and grabbed the release. The effect was immediate, pushing near 90lb of force on his penis. Max squeezed with all his might, watching a gauge on the machine readout hit 72lb. He released. Squeeze, 75lb. Squeeze, 79lb. Squeeze, 82lb. Max was rock hard now, adjusting the grips to loosen so he could move further into the tube. Starting again, 74, 78, 82, 82, 85, 86, 86, 86, 86, 86, 87, 86, 86, 86, 86. Max had to loosen the grips again. Maybe it was the combination of the fresh pump, or just knowing Ken could only push 58lb on this machine, but the K3000 was Max’s best friend lately. On nights he closed, he had it all to himself, not that many others dared touch it, as few could even master the K2000. He could feel the head of his dick humming, almost vibrating on his own. He stared at the weight dial. Just two notches left. Max went for it, turning the dial to 95. He’d never tried this before, but everything felt right tonight. 83, 82, 86, 88, 86, 86, 87, 86, 89, 90, 91, and safety. He felt that one! Blood pooled back into areas pushed from the last pump class. Max found this combination very successful. He knew he had the best control of any of the gym trainers. The pulsing was stronger now. He released the grips and was pulled even further into the tube. Six years and three inches. There were only 5lb left to go. Why not? Max turned the dial to 100lb. There was an audible click somewhere behind the machine’s paneling. 77, 80, 84, 86, 87, 89. Max engaged the safety. Heavy, but he wasn’t giving up. Six years and three inches, and that was just length. Nearly two inches in girth as well, but those weren’t his best traits. It was his strength, vascularity, and stamina. He used every machine in the lower gym those first few years, finding he liked the auto-pump and K-Series Stamina Builders best. After years of training, Max could summon steel erections and last for hours, even experiencing multiple orgasms when he focused. Enough rest, time to try again. 75, 81, 86, 89, 89, 91, 93. The humming was now a pulsating, unlike the throbbing heartbeat along his veiny shaft to which Max had become accustomed. His deep tissues were burning. The pulsating traveled from the head to his flat stomach. Nearly a minute after his last set, Max was treated to a mini-orgasm for his efforts. A few more of those, and he would be breaking some gym rules. Okay, time to go again. 78, 84, 86, 89, 87, 86, 89. Dammit, bad set. Perhaps he really was done for the night, and had reached to far too soon. Max couldn’t complete 2lb on the K1000 when he first joined. The card his high-school friend gave him when they were both working at the insurance office changed his world. At first, Max thought it a joke, a San Francisco “lower gym?” It took a lot of evidence to convince him of the legitimacy, and several months before Max could ignore other gym members walking around in aprons. You saw a lot of man-flesh, and despite the rigorous cleaning practices every morning, there was always the thick aroma of musk. Maybe one more set with everything he’s got. 81, 88, 86, 90, 91, 93, 99, click. The grips released without being touched, and the holding tube split in half, by design. Max pulled his turgid rod from the machine. The underside was slick with precum, easily visible standing straight in a one o’clock position. Veins from root to head flashed full to fuller, continuing the pulsating action taught by the K3000. It all clicked into Max’s head that the machine was designed for this, to teach his cock to pulse, requiring a new level of control and stamina. It took nearly twenty minutes for Max to figure out how to reverse blood flow, a valve he could newly control. He turned out the lights, and went to the rest room to take a piss. Once relieved, he went to the staff locker room and removed his apron. Even flaccid, Max’s veins seemed oversized, distortion making him appear larger than actual size. In the mirror, Max tried activating his new skill. Blood rushed so quickly in his penile structure that he nearly lost his balance. His glans filled and stretched wide, and the pulsating sensation and effect returned. He pulled blood back out, slamming the valve shut once drained, and repeated the action. By the third time, his entire girth was stretching further out with fresh blood. After the fifth run, Max was exhausted knowing this was his last pulse-push. He ran over to the quick-measure, and placed his entire package on the scale pushing against the clear plastic plating to get an accurate length reading. Max scanned his membership card to update his measurements. The stat differentials came back: L +1.2”, G + 1.4”, V +12Pt, GT + 5Pt. Max keyed yes to save these results, but was confused about the GT number. He never saw that one before, and navigated back to the home screen to see all stats. Length: 10.2”/Girth: 7.1”/Volume: 92.42Pt/Growth Tangent: 25Pt Growth Tangent? Max still had no idea what that was, but figured he could ask someone tomorrow. After packing up, Max locked up, and headed out into the humid parking lot for his ride home. The next morning Max went to his part-time job thankful he sat at a desk for four hours, as his pump from last night’s activities was difficult to hide in khaki slacks. After lunch, Max went back to Sil’s Underground. Tracy was at the desk as usual. “Hey, I thought you weren’t working today?” “I’m not, but I see Gerry’s on the board again instead of Ken. Sil’s going to have to get another member to step up and start training.” “Oh, well, yes. Apparently, Ken’s really missing. No posts. No answer to calls. His boyfriend came to the gate asking questions.” “What kind of questions?” Max was capable of putting his loathing for the man aside for some gossip. “Well,” Tracy leaned in so only Max could hear, “according to the boyfriend, Ken had been coming here at night, after closing, with the owner’s permission, ya’know.” “For what?” There was some jealousy in Max’s tone. “Personal training? I don’t know. I left Sil the message, but he said he didn’t know anything when Ken first didn’t show. It’s right out of a soap opera. Wait, if you’re not teaching, why are you here?” “I’ve scheduled use of the recovery chamber. I’m a little sore after last night.” “Sorry about that. We received several comments in favor of your class last night, though.” “No worries Trace. Can you let me know when Gerry finishes up?” “Sure thing, honey. Enjoy your rec session.” The three-part recovery gave Max time to ruminate on some of what Tracy said. Ken had access to the gym at night? That must be how he was advancing so quickly. Was the owner, Sil, training him? Max had never met Sil, though there were pictures posted at the entry: an average looking elderly man, partially bald. Once the chamber drained, Max removed the grips, and exited the chamber. The recovery chamber was fairly new, and a godsend. The primary cycle was electrical stimulation, followed by ultrasound provided by a mechanical roller, blissfully painful. Lastly, the chamber filled with a warm gel that felt like ocean waves pulling and pushing. You had to have at least 8” of length and 48 months of membership to use the chamber. Veterans of the gym viewed it as a reward for loyalty, as more lower gyms were popping up in major cities. It allowed the trainers to recover faster to be able to teach more often. “That’s better,” Max thought, as he headed back to the main equipment room. Many noticed him, and approached. The gym was crowded, and he answered questions, and gave advice when asked. The K3000 was empty, but there was someone on the K2000. Max walked by and checked the dial: 18lb. Not bad, but a long way to go. Walking back, Max noticed a chrome glint on the K3000, and paused to look at it. Instantly, multiple members turned to look, hoping someone dared to use the beast of a machine. Max knew better than to try this machine after last night, but the chrome was an addition to the weight dial. There were two more notches: 110lb and 120lb. Not even 5lb increments. When did Sil update the machine? Was Ken here after he left, and he and the owner updating machines? Could Ken really control 110lb? K-series machines taught users how to separate simple erection activities from absolute control. Experienced K2000 users could separate veins and chambers, move blood to areas surrounding the shaft, and introduce control of normally involuntary functions. Max went home disappointed. Why did Sil favor Ken? Was he not good enough? Max showered, ate, and watched highlights until 10:00PM, sitting in his lounger, stroking himself for almost an hour. He wouldn’t nut. This was about cleaning out dead cells. But Max couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know for himself. It was quiet at the gym, no cars in the parking lot. Max disarmed the building and used his key copy on the backdoor. He didn’t know what he expected to find? Sil setting up a new machine? Ken training in the dark? But there was no one. Max convinced himself that since he was there, he might as well get a quick workout in. Out of habit, Max changed into an apron, and stepped onto the equipment floor. Ken skipped the K1000. It was for new members. Once locked in the K2000, Max turned the dial to 50, and easily pushed/squeezed 40 reps out. Barely resting, Max moved the dial to 80, and engaged. This time, Max worked for 50 reps. He had to adjust the grips by about an inch, as he achieved his absolute erection. Maximum weight in the K2000 was still 100, and Max hit 60 reps with ease. Setting the K3000 to 80, Max pushed as much of his erect cock into the holding tube as he could, and set the grips, taking a deep breath before clearing the release. Twenty reps burned, but with the release on, the traveling pulsation returned. Max moved the dial to 90. Twenty more strong reps. Max could feel his veins bulging inside the chamber, and adjusted the tube slightly for comfort. The dial was moved to 100lb. Ten reps, and Max was now sweating, trying to focus. There was a competing sensation of pleasure mixed with disbelief. He felt bigger. This machine wasn’t for growth, but he felt bigger. He felt amazing. Max looked at the new dial settings, and without hesitation, moved another 10lb to the right. Only four reps. Max tried to remember sensations from last night, a “valve” sensation. Max released the safety, and tried again. Three tries it took, but Max found it. The head of his cock flared inside the tube, almost forcing Max to orgasm, but he stopped it. The next 10 minutes were surreal with Max achieving ten reps at 110lb, then twenty, and finally reaching 28 reps. Max reached for the dial, noticing veins along his exposed arms sticking out. The dial clicked into its final position. Max knew what to do. He released the safety, with the weight immediately being placed on his entire package. Everything, even his balls, felt weighed down, almost pulled under this weight. He let the machine pull, and responded by embracing the valve sensation and adding his power squeeze. Blood filled his entire shaft, immediately pushing into every crevice. Another rep, and blood filled the head, and maxed out the veins. Max repped again, and felt an unfamiliar expansion. Another rep, and blood pushed past the restriction limits of the holding tube forcing blood into his balls to grow. Was is blood? This felt different. Max continued, in an altered state, as veins throughout his body, in his muscles, grew and protruded beyond his skin. Veins bulged from his forehead to his feet, always cycling back to the holding tube. Max lost count of the reps completed, when he heard another click, and the tube split open, releasing a surprise. Max’s shaft bounced from the horizontal position to slap his chest, glistening from tip to root with fluids. Stepping off the platform, Max couldn’t believe what he saw attached to his body, afraid to touch it. His apron was pointless, as the mass pushed the heavy cloth to the side. How big was he now? He had to know, and rushed to the quick-measure, though with difficulty. The girth and overall size stretching from his waist had a gravity to itself, requiring a wider walking gait. Max lined up, pushed against the measuring plate, and scanned his card: L +3.6”, G + 2.3”, V +72.3Pt, GT + 54Pt *Length: 13.8”/Girth: 9.4”/Volume: 164.72Pt/Growth Tangent: 79Pt *Member 367, your measurements will not be saved. Verification Required. Management to advise. Thank you. There was no option to save; just OK or cancel. Max was too shocked by the measurements to complain about some silly error message. Max removed the monster, and gripped the base to enjoy a single stroke. The already bulbous head flared wider, fit to bursting. A guttural moan escaped from Max, as he orgasmed, making sure not to break any rules by ejaculating. His moan grew into a scream as mini-orgasms came closer and closer together, continuing for nearly two whole minutes. The next morning, Max moved slowly, first believing the previous night was a dream. It wasn’t uncommon for him to dream of an impossible size, but last night was so vivid. Moving his right leg under his sheets, Max knew right away it was no dream. Thankfully, he was flaccid, but felt soreness along his entire shaft. In his bathroom now, Max dropped his sleep shorts for a full mirror view. If not for the Sharpie-thick veins from tip to root and beyond, the reflection could have been one of those bad internet morphs. Max moved to turn on another overhead light, causing his manhood to sway. Soft, he was at least 10” long with the thickness of a beer can, but that wasn’t the only near comical sight. Pushing against his thighs were two heavy oval orbs in newly stretched skin sacs. The shaft rested on these giant testosterone pumpers, causing a downward facing arch. Max gripped the base, noting his fingers wouldn’t touch, and moved to stroke the monster. Soreness stabbed at his gut and pubic base, almost doubling him over, making him regret not using the rec chamber. Despite the pain, Max had to know if last night was a fluke. He thought about the K1000, and activated muscle and mindset to achieve an erection. Blood pooled into his shaft chambers, moving the soft muscle to a 3 o’clock position becoming more turgid, rising to 2 o’clock, and finally 1 o’clock, with tip just above his belly button. Max considered the K2000, locking his erection in place, pushing blood in and out, refreshing oxygen as the center, the middle chamber, of his cock grew stronger and harder. His testicles relaxed, moving further away from his body, setting off a separate reaction of pre-cum traveling along his newly reinforced length, to collect and trickle from his exposed and plum-sized head. Veins both large and small grew large only to flatten in pace with his heartrate. Max removed his simple white t-shirt to relieve his hardening nipples. Other areas of his body began to radiate with pleasure: his pits, ass, the back of his neck, and abs all becoming erogenous zones. Max pushed his mind and body to remember the K3000. This time it was easy to find the valve. All parts of Max’s groin began to pulse, almost as if the veins couldn’t keep up with the new demand. Deep tissue rose to skin’s surface, pushing the veins even further out. Pre was now oozing in a continuous flow to drip from Max’s balls onto the bathroom mat. Max didn’t care. His shaft was stretching, his balls losing their egg-like shape in favor of large oranges or grapefruits. A similar sensation from last night welled inside of him, spreading further into his body. Sensations of pleasure spread from his groin into his abdominals, his legs, his chest, his back, his feet, his hands, neck, arms, and even his face. Veins on Max’s entire body grew large and angry, while his body heat rose. Lost in a state of pleasure, his head forced back by the ecstasy, Max didn’t notice the height of his shoulders rising. Veins continued to push further, straining to be released from his body. Strands of muscle forced by blood spread through his glutes and back to his groin. The loop throughout his body was complete. Max stayed in this state for nearly an hour, drool pooling on the now soaked mat, unable to release himself from K3000 state. Not wanting to release himself from this state. Left to charge on his nightstand, Max’s phone buzzed and pinged as an incoming call rang out. Max’s lower mind concentration broke. All power and influence in his body returned to his groin, slamming back to its home. The force was unexpected and unprecedented. Max bellowed from a deep, masculine force from with, feeling the orgasm before producing its common effects. Citing his mirror, max noticed the shaft between his engorged pecs bouncing on their own. Max felt the weight of his new grapefruit-sized sacs as if for the first time; their sensations adding to the ongoing spasms of eruptions. Max came screaming, gripping the shower curtain bar, breaking it in half, stumbling as the first eruption shot straight into the air, barely missing his new firmer chin. Max gripped the sink with the left, and attempted to point his mini-Vesuvius away from his body with the right. The second shot hit the mirror, the shaft easily bent by Max’s sinuous and vascular arms. The third shot was more forceful hitting the mirror and cracking it. The fourth was difficult to control. Spurts were coming faster and harder, and Max was losing control. He didn’t know what to do, where to grip to control it. Max tried both hands, and shot into the corner, his hips in time with the release. Even Max’s larger feet and thick muscle thighs couldn’t maintain his balance on the pre and spittle soaked bath mat. He slipped, and gripped the towel rod, ripping it from the wall as the next set of spasms rocked his body. Exhausted, Max crumpled to the warmed and wet floor, feeling his body exit K3000 mode, then K2000. Max arched his widened back, still ejaculating like a hose after the pressure’s been removed. It took another eight minutes for his erection and ejaculation to subside. Showered and three gallons of water heavier, Max checked his phone. It was a missed call from Tracy. She left a message. Max played it, “Hey babe! It’s Tracy. Um, I don’t know what’s going on, but Sil wants to see you. Tonight, after closing. Gerry is going to cover your intro class, training that Leslie guy from New York to help replace Ken. I hope everything’s okay. I want all the details. Call me!” Could this be because he broke in last night? Was it really breaking in if you had a key? Max ordered food, a lot of food, and tried to find some clothes that fit, but nothing did. Everything was . . . bigger. Eventually, Max found a never-worn XXL t-shirt in the donate pile, from a walk for autism event, where he was given the wrong size. He tried some sweats but everything clung to his body. Eventually, Max gave up on briefs, missing his work apron. He cut the length of his baggiest sweat pants to make oddly erotic tight shorts. Max cleaned the bathroom, stealing glances at himself in the mirror. His cock and balls were grotesquely large and visible under their thin cover. When he walked, the tip of his glans peaked out the left side of his “shorts.” His chest pushed the shirt away from his body, constantly scrapping against his fat nipples and new skin. Irritated, Max removed the T-shirt, wondering why he ever thought the shirt was too big to wear. The sight of his chiseled abs and outline below the waist almost recharged his lust, but hunger stalled his constant groping and mirror-checking. Max ate and cooked everything in his fridge and pantry, but it wasn’t enough. Max spent most of the day eating and drinking, ashamed of all the times in his life he used the word “starving.” The responses from the delivery boys were becoming amusing. The first time, Max forgot he wasn’t wearing a shirt or shoes, or anything other than tight shorts. After opening the door, the kid just stood there starring, his eyes going from chest to cockline, back and forth. Eventually, Max cleared his throat, and forced money on the delivery boy noting how his own hands dwarfed the young man’s. To be continued.
  38. 16 points
    Okay, guys - next chapter. Can I please ask that people don't quote and effectively re-post whole chapters. I can amend and edit my own posts but obviously I can't change other people's. Cheers! Four “You’re not wearing THAT for your shift at the gym?” my dad asks me when I walk into the kitchen the next day. I look down at my outfit of blue trackies and black Montgomery hoodie and then back at my dad in confusion. “That poncey bloody university hoodie!” Josh lets out an annoying high pitched laugh at my expense while he’s sitting at the table eating his breakfast. I roll my eyes and make myself some porridge. “It doesn’t make you look clever wearing a hoodie with the name of a university on it, you know?” I sit across from a smirking Josh. “Just ‘cause you two were too thick to go to uni!” My dad lunges towards me and goes to hit me on the head with a letter he’s holding. I put my arm up to guard my hair. “Oooh I forgot. We can’t touch the hair!” he mocks. “You know what the pair of us should do, Josh? One night when he’s asleep - sneak into his bedroom and shave his hair off!” Josh laughs. I do a sarcastic, pretend laugh, shaking my head from side to side. “Do you want a lift to the gym?” my dad asks. I shrug. “Yeah?” “Well tough shit. You’re not getting one.” I roll my eyes as he walks out of the room. “If you’re not ready in ten minutes I’m leaving without you!” he calls back from the hallway. I look at a still smirking Josh and then go back to my porridge. “What time are you finishing today?” he asks. And now he’s got this weird look on his face. Like he’s suddenly nervous for some reason. “Erm … about four I think?” Josh bites his lip and nods. “Why?” He pulls a face. “No reason!” he says, picking up his bowl and moving away from the table. “Maybe I wanna hang out with my little brother? The future pro bodybuilder!” he teases. He looks back at me with a cheeky grin and I smile back. My phone pings as I’m leaving the house with dad. I don’t know why, but I feel a twist of nerves when I see it’s a message from my mate Tony. DEAN-O-OH! DEAN-O-OH! I take it you have a good reason for why you’ve been back for four days and haven’t text me yet? PRICK! Monster drinking sesh soon. You, me and Nick?? Three Musketeers reunited? Tony and Nick are my two oldest mates from school. Nick went to Bristol to do a marketing degree. Tony stayed at his parents’ and got a job working in a call centre. I feel a slight warmth as I read Tony’s text. They’re my two best mates so obviously I wanna see them. But, weirdly, there’s a part of me that also doesn’t. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s just because I haven’t really been feeling like myself lately. I text him back when I’m in the passenger seat of my dad’s black Land Rover. Tony you scrawny bastard. Soz mate - dad’s making me do shifts at the gym! Deffo need to do a drinking session soon though! I hover my finger over the send button. My stomach twists. Why am I so fucking hesitant to see my two oldest mates? “Who’s that?” my dad says. I hit send and tell him it’s Tony. He groans. “Jeeezus! Still hanging around with that dopey prick?” I can't help but smirk at that comment. Dad looks at me sternly and points his finger. “NO going out drinking when you’ve got work the next day!” I pull a face and roll my eyes. “I mean it, Deano!” My phone pings. Tony’s asking me for a date to meet up. “We’ve got a new trainer starting today,” my dad tells me. I look at Tony’s text on my phone, wondering what the hell to reply. I know if I message him back with a specific day he’s gonna hold me to it. “I want him to get familiar with the gym before he takes on new clients. Oi. Uni boy. Are you listening to me?” “YES!” “Good. That’s sorted then!” I look up at my dad. “Huh?” “I’ll leave Ryan with you today then?” “Who the fuck’s Ryan?!” My dad clocks me round the head. “OW!” “If you tore your eyes away from that fucking phone for five minutes you’d know. And stop pissing swearing.” I scoff. “Hypocrite!” “I’m your dad, I can talk to you how I want! Ryan. New personal trainer at the gym …” and now he’s talking really slowly like I’m stupid. “You - show him around. Talk him through the machines!” “I’m pretty sure he’ll know how to use the machines if he’s a personal trainer, dad.” “I know, clever dick. Health and safety and all that. If we just get him doing what some of the other lads do for a few days, then he can take on his own clients and focus on his training. Doesn’t sound too painful, does it?” I pull a face and shrug. I really don’t know if I’m in the mood to look after someone today. To have to deal with someone new. “Why don’t you just get me to be a trainer instead of hiring someone new?” “Oh - why didn’t I think of that?” he says, sarcastically. “As if it’s that bloody easy. You’re not qualified for a start. Plus you’ll be going back to university before you know it. Where would that leave me?” A thought suddenly comes to me. Maybe I shouldn’t go back to university. Maybe I should just stay here and qualify as a personal trainer. I could probably get a job at pretty much any gym in Brighton. And I could carry on doing my competitions. Okay - I probably wouldn’t get my pro card as quickly as I would at uni. But I reckon I’d still get it. Eventually. I could rent a room in a house share. Get away from living with Josh and dad. Make new mates at whatever gym I’m training at. And I wouldn’t have to see them again. I wouldn’t have to stand at the back of Posing Practice 101 watching them standing next to each other in their tacky, shiny posing trunks. Watching them being together. Seeing the way they look at each other. The way he looks at Henderson. “Just … seems like a waste of money!” I tell dad. “I have an accountant to worry about that, thanks. Anyway - wait until you actually meet him before you start questioning the way I run my business." I look at him and screw my face up. “Why?” “Because he’s probably won more bodybuilding competitions than ALL of those lads at your uni put together. He’s probably bigger than most of the teachers too!” I don’t say anything. I just pull a face, turn away from my dad and look out of the side window, wondering whether I should have worn my Montgomery hoodie today after all. Because maybe my dad had a point. Maybe it does make me look like a bit of a prick. I see so many bodybuilders at my dad’s gym. Every time I go. Freaks, beasts, monsters and bodybuilders. I’ve kind of become accustomed to it I guess. Not to mention the fact that I attend the world’s only university for bodybuilders. And yet, every now and then a certain guy will just catch my attention. Like the shaved-headed guy the other day with the sweaty, balloon-esque pecs. And that good looking ginger lad I always used to see at the gym last summer who was a year or two older than me and whose head didn’t seem to match his body. Who often looked at me but seemed too shy to talk to me. And Liam “The Guns” Watson and his massive arse and huge biceps who I basically obsessed about for ages. And just like the guy I’m looking at now as I walk into the gym talking to Big Steve with his back to me. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s because he looks about six foot tall (a whole seven inches taller than my short-arsed frame). Maybe it’s the tanned, thick bull neck. Or his ridiculously wide back which is stretching a tight, black t-shirt. Or the thick, tanned triceps sticking out under the material of the sleeves. It might even be the fact he’s got a bigger arse than mine which has that kind of round shape that mine does and is sticking out a mile from his trackies. Which is no small achievement, by the way. There’s no point trying to play it down - my arse is huge for my frame. I haven’t even seen this guy’s face yet. But I can just tell he’s stupidly good looking. I just know it. Even his hair is weirdly nice from the back. It looks a bit like mine. Maybe he’ll turn around before he leaves. Maybe he’ll be in the gym when I’m showing this new Ryan guy around. “Ryan!” my dad calls. And now the guy I’m transfixed by is turning around and walking towards us and my stomach does something weird. So this is the guy I’m showing around today? Huh. “Alright, mate!” he says, with this big, cheeky grin on his face. (I was right by the way. STUPIDLY good looking.) And now he’s shaking my dad’s hand. This giant monster of a good looking bodybuilder towering over me with massive arms and thick looking pecs which are straining under the material of his black t-shirt. And hair which is basically the same as mine from the front. He clocks me and makes eye contact. My dad puts a hand on my shoulder. “This is Deano Junior!” he says proudly. Ryan knocks his head back and looks at me wide-eyed, looking both amused and shocked. His mouth curled into a grin. He looks at my dad and laughs. “Fuckin’ hell!” he cries. Yeah, we look alike. I’m his Mini Me. Mini Deano Junior. Get the fuck over it. “Alright, Deano Junior!” he says, grinning at me and putting his hand out for me to shake. As I grip his hand and look at his big, hairless, veiny forearms, I get another weird feeling in my stomach. “It’s just Deano,” I say. There’s an awkward pause as Ryan just nods with a sort of weird half-smile. Did that come out as rude? My dad rolls his eyes and groans. “You’ll get used to Deano JUNIOR,” he says, glaring at me. “He usually doesn’t get out of bed until noon so he’s always a moody little git before then!” Ryan nods, grinning again at my dad. Then he bites his lip and shoots me a knowing smirk. Like he’s on my side. Like he knows my dad’s embarrassing the fuck out of me. He’s got this sort of cheeky chappie look about him. Big brown eyes. A strong jawline. Clear tanned skin. He’s kind of boyish I guess, but really fucking masculine too. And he’s styled his hair really well. Even though it’s practically identical to mine, it still looks a little bit better. I bet he doesn’t allow anyone to touch his hair either. His eyes have veered down to my Montgomery hoodie a few times. Maybe he's impressed that I go to Muscle University. Or maybe he just thinks I'm a total fucking twat. My dad takes me and Deano’s Gym’s latest personal trainer and apparent multiple bodybuilding show champion into his office. On the walk there, he makes a joke about needing a step ladder to talk to Ryan, who (again) looks over at me (okay - more like down at me) and gives me a knowing smirk as a response to the crap dad joke. My dad gets down to business. I’m sat next to Ryan. His thick, tanned, veiny forearms are resting on the arms of his chair. His thighs look massive under his trackies. He looks so engaged and interested in what my dad’s saying. Nodding along and listening intently. I don’t know if it’s completely genuine though. I mean, this is how you probably would act on your first day at a new job, isn’t it? Everyone wants to make a good impression on their first day. He could be thinking right now how much of a twat his new boss seems. How he’s just a past it, has-been bodybuilder, with a shitty, run-down gym on the seafront of Brighton he’s now regretting accepting a job offer at. And how his moody, twat faced son, who is basically a younger, less scary version of him with hair, is also clearly a massive prick, not least of all because he’s wearing a Montgomery University hoodie which, let’s be honest, isn’t like a proper university. Because a university for wannabe bodybuilders? What the fuck even is that? My dad sends the both of us out to the gym floor for me to run through the machines with Ryan. Then he’s asked us to jump on the laptop, update the gym’s website with Ryan’s profile and update the social media sites. Which will take about half an hour. If that. And is definitely not a two person job. “So, what’s Muscle University like?” he asks on the walk to the gym. He seems pretty genuine. He’s definitely friendly. And confident. He’s so fucking confident. “Do you love it up there?” My stomach twists. “Erm …” Fuck. Why did I hesitate? He looks at me surprised. “I do actually,” I say confidently. Which is true. Despite what went down in the second term. And the general downer it put on the last few months there. “I’ve actually met Rick Tucker a few times,” Ryan says. Rick Tucker is one of Montgomery’s most well known graduates. He studied there about six years ago. Last year he cracked the top ten at the Mr Olympia. “He said he really loved studying there!” I nod. I bet Rick Tucker never got suspended for publicly outing two gay students on the uni’s Facebook page though. I bet Rick Tucker didn’t kiss and jump on top of one of those guys on his bed after watching him pose. Only to get knocked back and find out that he’s boyfriends with his roommate. Who’s not even a bodybuilder. And wears Harry Potter boxer shorts for fuck’s sake. “So are you back home for the whole summer?” Ryan asks. “Yep.” I’m suddenly conscious that I’m not really saying much. Come on, Deano. Get it together you twat. He’s just a new lad working at the gym. Okay, the best looking lad who’s ever bloody worked here, but he’s still just a new lad at the gym. “Back home with mum and dad?” he asks, with a smirk. “Are they annoying the hell out of you?” I look at him and smirk. “It’s just dad. But YES - he’s pretty much been annoying the fuck out of me since I got home!” I look over my shoulder to make sure my dad’s not around and listening in. We get to the gym floor and I start talking Ryan through the machines. He has this habit of standing with one hand clasped over his fist as he’s watching me and sort of rubbing one finger back and forth against the knuckle. His biceps popping through the material of his black t-shirt as he does so. I won’t lie. They’re pretty insane. Like croquet balls bulging underneath smooth, tanned skin. And the pecs straining underneath his t-shirt. Holy fuck the pecs. And even though he's just so ridiculously confident, he’s not annoying with it like some of the lads at uni are. He’s definitely not cocky. There’s, like, a warmth there. He’s likeable I guess. I’m not really sure I’m likeable. I’m pretty sure most people just think I’m a loud-mouthed twat. “So … where do you train?” I ask Ryan on the way to fetch the laptop from dad’s office. “Infinity Fitness in Eastbourne." “Why?” I say, screwing my face up. That would have probably annoyed some people. They probably would’ve thought I was being a prick. But Ryan just laughs. “I live there,” he explains. “Sorry - LIVED. Past tense. I moved to Hove a few weeks ago. And, I dunno. I’m just finding it hard to … give it up, I guess!” For some reason, I feel like smiling. I bite the inside of my mouth to stop. “I guess I’m just used to it. Been going there for years. I know all of the lads who work and train there.” I nod and sit down in a booth in the Juice Bar and load up the laptop. Ryan sits next to me. He’s pretty close. His arms are, like, right there. His huge, tanned gorilla arms. And those pecs. I mentioned those already. “This seems like a good place though!” he says. “How does Infinity compare?” I say, signing in to the platform our website is run from. “Ummm …” Ryan says, hesitantly. “Less of a shit hole?” Ryan laughs. And how he’s grinning at me. Jesus. He’s even more stupidly good looking close up. He’s older than me. I’m guessing late twenties. Maybe even slightly older. He’d probably fit right in with Joshua and his mates to be fair. Smithy, Captain America and that Ant dude I was talking to on Saturday. Ryan’s forearms are so much fucking hotter than that Ant dude’s. “I’d say this place is ... slightly less modern!” “It’s a shit hole!” I say, turning back to the laptop. Ryan laughs. “Don’t tell your dad I said that though!” I smirk as I type. “I wouldn’t wanna mess with your dad!” I look at Ryan. “You’ve got, like, twenty pounds on him. And … a lot of inches in height!” “I don’t care. Your dad’s scary as fuck!” I bite my lip and smirk as I mess with the laptop. “Well, I’m a mini him apparently. Does that make me scary?” Ryan screws his face up. “Nah! I mean … I can see you’re a little fucking TANK under that hoodie!” And then he grabs the sleeve of my hoodie near my biceps and playfully tugs on the material. I feel a weird pinch in my chest. And I’m smiling way more than I want to. “But … you’re not scary!” I lift an eyebrow and nod. “Maybe when you’re a bit older and you’ve lost all your hair?” “That is NOT happening!” I mess with the laptop some more. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to say …” he says. “Nice haircut!” I roll my tongue around the inside of my cheek and smirk. Ryan doesn’t make eye contact with me. He’s just looking at the laptop, but he’s smirking too. The corner of his mouth curled. STUPIDLY good looking. Dad makes me show Ryan how to work the Juice Bar in the afternoon. Which isn’t exactly rocket science. He leaves Ryan to run it alone and I head out to train before I jump on the front desk for the rest of the day. Then he lets me go early for the second day running. When I get to the door of my house, I hear voices from the inside. One of them is Josh’s. He asked me what I was doing after work this morning. Maybe this is why. He’s invited some mates round and just wanted me out of the way. As I close the door behind me, my heart suddenly skips a beat. Because I suddenly recognise the other voice coming from the kitchen. Fuck. My stomach clenches as I walk towards the room, and sure enough, I see someone I most definitely wasn’t expected to see today, or any time soon, sitting opposite Josh at the kitchen table. She stops dead in her tracks when she spots me. Then she slowly stands up, a look of nerves in her expression and I feel a surge of anger rise up in my chest as I look at my mum. “Hello, Dean.”
  39. 15 points
    The Wall, Chapter 13 “Josh” 0630 hours: My car to JFK would be arriving in less than 10 hours. Normally, I wouldn’t even blink at the task of preparing for a departure so far out, but today was different. First, I was about to fly across the Atlantic, surprise Pup with my visit and spring the news on him that I was totally and utterly in love with him, even though we had never really had any conversation close to that before. Second, I was probably more than 100 pounds heavier than the last time I had donned my tuxedo, and I was going to need a perfectly fitted new set of threads by 4 pm if I were going to pull off my plans to woo Pup. I doubted I was anything close to an off-the-rack size anymore; so the task of procuring some new clothes seemed daunting. Come to think of it, I doubted that anything in my entire house would fit except for some socks and maybe my robe. Well, I needed to at least try to find some clothes that fit. I went to my closet and pulled my suitcase off the top shelf. Strangely that shelf didn’t seem so high anymore, and then I realized that everything else in the closet seemed lower as well. I must have grown a few inches in addition to packing on pounds of muscle. My trepidation grew. This was probably going to be an even bigger challenge than I expected. I removed my first shirt from the hanger and started to dress. When the sleeve hit my shoulder, the seam snagged and ripped. I bent my elbow, and the fabric over my biceps gave way. I hadn’t even flexed, and the shirt sleeve was shredded. I looked in the mirror and chuckled. I looked like a giant wearing a shirt that looked 10 sizes too small. I ripped off the rest of the fabric and studied myself. Holy moly. I was now in a category beyond huge. I must have been 6’5” and well over 300 pounds, and I looked like sex on stick. My neck was as thick as the mast of a ship covered in cables, and my traps where rounded and high. My shoulders, chest and arms were incredibly thick, and my midsection was tight and defined. My thighs were a collection of striated serpents framing a set of lemon sized balls and a cock that measured at least 11 x 8.5, probably more fully hard. The sight of myself in the mirror was causing the giant to awaken and rise. In a relaxed pose, my reflection was enough bring my cock to full mast. I hit a few cursory poses and started to drip. Then I flexed a full double biceps and sprayed the mirror with jizz. The harder I flexed, the larger and more defined my muscles became and the harder I shot. My body was flexing and cumming and growing in a cycle of unending feedback. It was intoxicating, and it was addictive, but thoughts of Pup interrupted the loop and rescued me from the monotony of perpetual self-satisfaction. The cum torrent ended, and I lowered my arms. Yep, getting ready by 4 was going to be a challenge. I wiped down the mirror and jumped in the shower. I washed and I washed. There was just so much of me. Luckily, the shower was outfitted with sprayers from the ceiling and 3 walls; so I was able to get cleaned up quickly without getting too side-tracked in another self-worship frenzy. Dried off and just barely dressed in my bathrobe, I realized I was now a prisoner in my own home. No shoes. No clothes. I was stumped. I needed a friend to come to the rescue, but Pup was away, and ever-dedicated Daphne was probably already at the office. That left only a handful of options, and only John and Ernie were both geographically near enough and dear enough friends to call on a Wednesday at 7 am. “Hello, John?” “Maxie! Good morning, love. It’s early. What’s going on?” “I know, John. I hope I didn’t wake you. I’m in a bit of a bind…” “No, no, dear. We've been up for hours. What's up? You sound absolutely panicked, Max. Are you in trouble? You’re not calling from jail, are you?” “No, no, John. I’m at home. I’m fine, but I need a big favor.” “Of course! Anything you need, Max. Ernie and I are always here for you. It isn’t the mob, is it? Do you need money?” I chuckled, “No, no, John. It isn’t the mob, and you know I don’t need any money. " "Well, dear, if it isn't jail or the mob, then what pray tell is it?" “I… umm… I need some new clothes.” “Ohhhkaaayyy…” I could hear John in the background whispering to Ernie that I was talking gibberish about some fashion emergency and must have taken some drugs or something. “Let me put you on speaker, Maxie. I want Ernie to hear all of this, too.” My voice started to crack, “I know it sounds strange, but there’s nothing in the house I can wear, and I can’t go out naked, and I’m in love with Pup, and I need to get a tuxedo and go to Amsterdam. I just don’t see how I can get it all done by 4:00, and …” I could hear John saying something else about drugs in the background, and Ernie cut off my melt down. “Max, Max! Listen to me. Everything is going to be just fine. Do not go outside naked. You stay right where you are! We are on our way over. Just hang up the phone and don’t do anything until we get there.” I hung up the phone. John and Ernie sure sounded odd, but I suppose I probably sounded out of my mind. Well, I couldn’t worry about that now. They were on their way over, and they could see for themselves in a few minutes. In the meantime, I stripped the sheets from the bed and wrapped them around the parts of my body my robe couldn’t cover. The modified toga looked like a ridiculous full body diaper, but at least I was decent. The front doorbell rang, and I heard Ernie and John let themselves in. “Ma-ax. We brought you some coffee. Where are you?” “I’m in the sun room. Come on back.” I heard Ernie say to John, “What is that smell. It smells like cookies and sex…” “Don’t inhale. It’s probably what he’s been smoking…” They appeared at the door. “Maxie, we’re here. Now what’s this about? Why the big panic, dear? What have you been up to? Are we a little bit high?” I motioned for them to stay where they were, across the large sun room from me. “Thank you for coming. As you can see, I’m fine. I haven’t been smoking anything or taking anything, and, well, it’s hard to explain.” I rose from my chair and stepped into the a clear area in the center of the room. “I’ve gone through some changes in the past several days.” I was still wrapped in the ungainly mass of sheets and a robe, but I had their attention. By now, they could see I was larger. Ernie slowly sat down, and John whispered, “Oh my god … he’s bigger.” “Look at his feet…” said John. “…and his neck,” said Ernie. The sheets fell slightly away slightly, revealing my traps and the tops of my pecs. “Oh my god, Max, what’s happened?” John’s crotch visibly twitched, and Ernie’s hand went to his bulge. I swallowed hard, and a ripple of flexes descended my jaw to my collar. “I don’t actually know, but I think it has something to do with that wall in my garden. I’ve been having these visions or dreams of the stone mason, and I keep getting stronger and bigger.” “H-h-h-how big are you now?” asked John. “Um, I’m not sure, but I’d estimate that I’m about 6’5” or 6’6". My scale tops out at 350 lbs; so I know I’m at least that, and I'm 10 times stronger than I look. You know I wanted to get bigger. So, I'm not complaining, but I can’t fit in any of my clothes anymore. Thus the emergency call this morning. With nothing to wear, I am trapped in my house unless I go out in this ridiculous toga, and I don’t think the people of Nassau County are quite ready for that.” “Okay, Maxie. It’s alright. John and I are here to take care of you. We’re going to help you out and get you some clothes. “You also said some things about a tuxedo and Pup and Amsterdam…?” “Oh yeh. Well, in the midst of all that’s happened, I think I’ve discovered I’m in love with Pup…” John said to Ernie half under his breath, “Well, it's about time.” I continued, “And I need to go to a formal gala event at KPNG in Amsterdam to sweep Pup off his feet and make him fall in love with me, too.” Ernie replied, “You know, Max, I think you’re making this more complicated than it needs to be. We’ve known you and Pup have been in love with each other since the first time you mentioned his name and the first time you brought him to swim at our pool. You should see the way you two look at each other. We couldn't be happier. We adore Pup. We could never understand why the spark between you didn’t ignite before now. It was as if there was an invisible barrier stopping you both. If you want to sweep Pup off his feet, all you have to do is say ‘Boo.’” “Yeh, I think I know that already, but I want it to be special when I tell him, and he must be so devastated by my confession of love that whatever has kept us apart for this long will be overcome,…” “…and you will live happily forever after. Yeh, yeh, yeh. Blah, blah, blah. Whatever. You’re going to live happily ever after only if you love, honor and cherish him till death do you part. That’s that part that makes it all work. The happily ever after part has nothing to do with the sweeping him off his feet part. It's been clear for ages. You’re both already swept. Maxie, are you sure you’re ready to make the other part of the commitment?” “Absolutely, with all of my heart. I love Pup, and I'm in love with Pup. I just want to sweep him off his feet, too. He deserves that. Everyone wants that.” I was pleading. John nodded, and Ernie nodded as well. “Okay, then I guess we’ve got a lot of work to do between now and your flight. Let’s get started.” John did his research and by 10:00 had found the best big and tall shop on Long Island called Josh’s, about 30 minutes away. The owner was a former competitive bodybuilder, and his online testimonials included pictures of some other big muscle guys. On the phone, Josh promised he could help us assemble a wardrobe, maybe even the tux. We just confused him a bit by not knowing any of my sizes or measurements. John assured him I needed whatever largest size he carried or larger. He just laughed in reply, “Yeh, buddy. I’ve heard that before. No one’s as big is they think.” I heard John say, "We'll see..." and hang up. John and Ernie loaded me into the back the delivery van from their flower shop, and by 10:30, we pulled up to Josh’s. The sign out front said open, but there was no one in sight. At least there wasn’t a crowd. Ernie went in for reconnaissance and came back in a flash. Josh had agreed to hang out the closed sign until noon if we promised to purchase at least $1,000 of merchandise or anything that looked good that Josh had in my size. Ernie said, “He’s a big guy, too, Max, but you’ve got him by at least 50 pounds I’d say, at least from what I can tell with you in your frock and all.” He put extra emphasis on the word “frock,” and we all cracked up. For just a brief moment, we were just silly friends cracking up in a van. Leave it to Ernie to kill apprehension with humor. I loved him for that. I finally exhaled for the first time that day and started to feel like everything would to be alright after all. We made the mad dash from the van and entered the shop. Josh was probably 15 years older than I, and as reported by Ernie, he was a big guy – maybe 6’4”, 280#, all seasoned muscle and definitely one of my preferred flavors. As usual, whenever confronted by a man such as Josh, I felt a surge in my junk. I didn’t get hard, but it felt like I was getting ready to get hard. I’m glad I didn’t have time to really consider his physique, or we might have all born witness to my hair-trigger monster. Ernie and John and I must have looked ridiculous to Josh – two well-dressed florists with interesting eyeglasses and one oaf of a man tripping over his wraparound toga. He turned the sign from open to closed and locked the front door. Ernie introduce John and me, and Josh looked at me, befuddled. “Why’re ya all wrapped up, kid? Let’s see what we’re working with here. Off with the covers.” “I, um, I’m not wearing anything underneath.” “Don’t worry, kid. I’ve worked the bodybuilding circuit for 30 years. There’s no room for modesty backstage. If you’ve got it, I’ve seen it a million times. Believe me. You’re no more special than anybody else.” I heard Ernie whisper to John, “We'll see…” So I stood to full height. A little surprised, Josh look up at me. At his height, I guessed looking up was something that he didn’t do often. Then, I began to untie the sheet. Just the work of my fingers and hands on the knots set the muscles of my forearms in motion and transformed them into masses of cables that were writhing like snakes. Josh swallowed hard. “You got some definition, kid.” In another minute, all the knots were untied. I turned to face Josh and let the sheet fall from my body. Now mind you, I was still clad in a somewhat undersized bathrobe, but the evidence was clear. Josh knew he was looking at a body that was truly one in a billion, but he tried not to let on. His voice cracked a bit when he asked, “Um. You ever compete, kid? I think with a good trainer, you might do alright.” I shook my head no, and I flexed my pecs absentmindedly. The whole robe rippled and rustled, and Josh let out a low whistle. “Okay, kid. It’s show time. Off with the rest of it. Let’s see what ya got. So I untied the terrycloth belt, and the robe front fell open. My cock and my hollowed out abs were still cast into shadow from my thick chest above, but Josh got a look and he quietly said, “Jesus Christ, kid. I ain’t never seen nothin’ like that. How did you…” I took a deep breath and the robe opened further. Josh just fell silent. I shrugged my shoulders, and the robe fell to the floor. “Holy fucking mother of god, kid. I ain’t never seen anything more beautiful in my whole life. What are you taking?” I shrugged, sending another wave of rippling flexes across my physique. “It’s just me.” I stood at attention, looking straight ahead, the relaxed post – chest high, shoulders back, lats flared, abs tight, quad/hamstrings/glutes flexed. John and Ernie were behind me, and I heard them both gasp. Josh was in front. He just reached out his left hand and placed the open palm on my deltoid. Then he placed his right hand on my left shoulder blade and made a single swipe across the expanse of my back, the way a horse trainer might run his hand down the flank of a thoroughbred. His hand came to a stop at the small of my back, resting atop my right glute. Then he continued the motion over the curve of my rump. I flexed. I felt him finger the striations of my glutes, and then he squatted, and his hand followed the curves of my hamstrings and calves down to the floor. He was inspecting, and I was being inspected. It was very intimate, but there was nothing sexual in his gesture. Still, being the object of such admiration was starting to have its effects on my manhood. I could feel myself plumping even though I was doing everything in my power to keep the lust demons at bay. Josh stood up, and I took in a deep breath. The lust spell was broken for now. He grasped my left deltoid and gave it a hard squeeze. “Geez, kid. You’re as big as a house, and you’re solid as a rock. How much did you say you weigh?” “I didn’t. I don’t really know, sir.” “Okay, we’re gonna need to weigh you and take some measurements.” Then he nodded behind me to where John and Ernie were sitting, “I think your friends might want to wait in the car if they don’t want to mess up their clothes.” I looked over my shoulder. They were just staring like zombies with big tents in their crotches. “You’re having like an effect on them, and I don’t want to think what might happen when we start flexing and measuring you.” Ernie san out, “We were already leaving,” grabbing John’s arm, a John who was reluctant to leave, and dragging him out the door. “We’ll be in the car gossiping voraciously until you two are through.” Josh relocked the door. “Okay, kid. Let’s get to it. Back against the wall here. Stand tall and straight. Your heels on the floor? Okay got it – 78 inches, that’s… 6’6”. “Now, get on the scale.” He slid the large counterweight to 250 – no movement, 300 – no movement, 350 – no movement. “This thing only goes up to 400. Above that, we gotta go out to the loading dock.” He then slid the smaller counterweight up the scale, and at 49 pounds, it started to balance. It came to center right at 50 lbs. Josh said it out loud, “400 pounds even,” and it sunk in for both of us. “400 pounds is fuckin’ insane, kid, and from the looks of you, I’m guessing your body fat is less than 5-6 percent. Somebody’s gotta be punkin’ me. You come in at 400 pounds, you are built like a god and you are competition ready, but you’ve never competed and you don’t have any clothes. It just doesn’t make sense.” “I know, but it’s all true,… er, except the punking part. Look, Josh, I don’t know quite what happened, but I’ve been working out for my whole life. I just never got really big until now. My body just suddenly seemed to catch up to all the work I’ve put into it.” “And that?” he queried, nodding to my crotch… “… just kept up with the rest,” I replied. “Well, I wouldn’t have believed your kind of muscular development was even possible a few days ago, but there was a guy in here last week, called himself Mason, every bit your size, only blockier like me. He told me you’d probably be coming in for some things and I should take care of you. He had me order some clothes and shoes that would fit, and he seemed to know more about your size than you know yourself.” “Mason,… yeh, I know the guy. Never really talked to him, but he’s been doing some work at my house.” “Yeh. Solid guy. Not much for words. Said he was training you, or something… Said he was… helping you ‘to become.’ Yeh, that was it. He wanted me to give you a message.” Josh went back in the storage room and pulled out a large box marked “Max.” It was filled to the top with shirts and pants and shoes and underwear and socks, a few shiny posers and jock straps and a satiny black jacket that could actually pass for a tuxedo with the right pants, shirt and bow tie. I was blown away. On top it all sat a small, sealed, white envelope, the same size use by florists for cards sent with flower arrangements. On one side was written only my name “Max.” On the other side, it said, “Open Thursday night, just after the 12th stroke of midnight.” I put down the card, and I wondered. Josh added, “He said it was important.” “Thanks, Josh. Hey, do you think we really need to take my measurements for these clothes? I could just try them on.” “You know. I’ve been in this business for a long time. There’s really no need to measure. They’re gonna fit fine. You’re gonna look like a million bucks, kid, but…” he paused. “But?” “But if you’re up for it, I still wanna take down your stats. I ain’t never seen a body like yours, and I’m guessing I’m not gonna run across one again in this life. It ain’t no queer shit or nothin’, but I love the male body, and when I look at you, it makes me believe in god or sumpt’n. You're like an angel. I'd like to outfit you with some giant wings."He paused and again looked up at me. "There’s a posing room in the back of the store, and I gotta tape measure with you name all over it. Whadaya say, kid?” “Posers or not?” “Are you kiddin’ me, kid? Not a thread. You can’t cover any of that up.” “I don’t know how I’ll react to the measuring and touching. I really like to be touched. There’s no guarantee I won’t bone up and spray jizz on your mirrors.” “Same here, kid. No guarantee. Same here.” “John and Ernie?” “They can wait in the car.”
  40. 15 points
    Thanks for all the comments on the last chapter! I don't have wifi at the moment so I'm having to edit and post this on my phone which isn't ideal but I didn't wanna keep you guys waiting. Ten I guess it’s kind of sad going to my dad’s gym on my day off, but I really wanted to train my chest today. And where the fuck else am I going to go? It’s the best bodybuilding gym in Brighton, and I get to go for free. Sometimes I fantasise about going to a regular gym. One of the high street fitness chain gyms in town. Can you imagine the kind of reaction I’d get if I turned up wearing a vest? Some five foot five inch tank of a competitive junior bodybuilder with big shoulders and huge biceps in a gym full of non-bodybuilding folk? I’d probably get stared at more than I did in that gay club last week. I know some bodybuilders who’ve actually done this. They love the attention they get from being the biggest fucker in the gym. Feeling like they own the place. All eyes on them. All the other lads looking up to them. I can relate to how addictive that feeling is I guess. People give me special treatment at my dad’s gym. And I get attention back at uni because I’m one of the best lads in the year. And also, I guess, because I sort of stand out. A little pocket-sized, short-limbed tank. Lads are kind of drawn to me. And that gives me ammunition. To be a loud-mouthed twat. To shout out in class. Half the time I do that stuff just because I can get away with it. But I admit, I kind of like the attention acting like that gives me. I liked the attention I got from Woody too. Even though it wasn’t necessarily good attention, it was still attention. He still noticed me. When I started giving him a hard time about flirting with that gay dude on Instagram, I could tell it wound him up. So I kept going on about it. It almost gave me a reason to talk to him. I knew he wouldn’t talk to me otherwise. I knew he thought I was an annoying prick. But, also, I guess I was secretly hoping that him flirting with that random Instagram dude meant something more. It meant that he liked lads. And that maybe I had a chance with him. Even though I knew he was way too good looking to ever be interested in me. I just … well, I guess I just never thought he’d end up with someone like him. Fucking Henderson. I hated it when they became friends. I could kind of see that something was going on. I kept telling myself that no - Woody’s not gay. Luke’s probably not gay either. But it turned out they were. They fucking were. Everything I’d thought and fantasised about doing with Sebastian fucking Wood, he was doing it with Luke Henderson. I’m thinking about that as I push out the last few reps of my bench press. The two of them - lift - together. Smiling at each other, nudging each other’s shoulders - lift - in the Watson House fucking gym on the last day of term. And CRANK - the barbell goes back on the rack. And my workout’s done. I sit up to catch my breath. My pecs are fucking pumped. Biceps too. A thin layer of sweat over my upper body. A wet patch on my vest. And now my dad’s walking up to me with this look on his face, his eyes narrowed. Like I’ve done something wrong. What fucking now? “There’s a pair of dopey fucking twats in reception for you!” What the - oh shit, it’s Tony and Nick. Tony’s been group texting in an attempt to get the three of us together. He keeps saying he can’t believe The Three Musketeers haven’t had a drinking session yet. Fuck’s sake. I was just gonna go home and watch The Goonies. That was my Saturday night sorted. I can’t believe they’re here. And yet, when I go to reception and see my two oldest friends standing there, I’m suddenly filled with this unexpected warmth. “DEAN-O-OH! DEAN-O-OH!” Nick pulls a face and playfully rolls his eyes behind Tony’s back, but I can tell he’s happy to see me. Nick’s always been more mature than Tone. And also me, come to think of it. I’ve always thought that one day Nick will outgrow us. I’m surprised it hasn’t happened already, to be honest. Tony on the other hand - well, I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of him. I grab Nick’s hand and we bump shoulders. “You’re coming out with us. NOW!” Tony says. “What?!” I groan. “Come on! Three Musketeers!” he whines. I throw my head back and groan. “I’m only staying out for a few," Nick says. “I’ve got work tomorrow." “Whatever!” Tony says, rolling his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere without having a shower first." “Fuck that! Girls’ll be all over you. All huge and sweaty and shit. Girls love all of that!” I laugh. “I really don’t think they do! Anyway, I can’t go out like this. I’m wearing trackies!” Tony tips his head back and groans. “Okay - we can stop at yours on the way so you can get changed!” I agree to go out for a few drinks only. I wasn’t that keen on the idea of going out with the lads again. I guess I’m kind of scared of where I’ll end up going again when I've had a few drinks. And what I’ll end up doing when I get there. The thing about me is - I never seem to know when enough is enough. When to stop drinking. When to stop taking the piss out of my classmate and his geeky Harry Potter boxer short wearing roommate. When to stop trying to make someone like me when they probably never will. When the three of us get back to ours, Josh is coming out of the kitchen with a can of beer in his hand. We haven’t really spoken since I walked out on our lunch with mum. “JOSH-U-AAA!” Tony shouts when he sees him. “Fucking ‘ell! Where did you pricks come from?” Josh says. He looks at me and it feels a bit awkward. “Alright!” he says, with a nod. He doesn’t seem pissed off, but he’s not really smiling either. “You going out?” I ask. I don’t really feel that pissed off at him anymore. Even though he told me to grow up. Even though he sided with mum. Even though he ALWAYS sides with mum. “Yep! With the lads.” “MATE - where are you going?” Tony asks, excitedly. “Can we come?” “No!” Josh scoffs. “I’m not being seen out with you twats!” I can’t help smiling at that comment. He makes eye contact with me and smirks back. “Have a nice night, lads!” he says, as he jogs upstairs. "Fucking ‘ell!” Tony says when the three of us are in my room and he and Nick flop on to my bed. “If I looked like your brother …” I pull a face. “What?” I ask as I grab a pair of jeans from my drawers. “I’d just be fucking … out all the time. Finding the tidiest pussy to bang!” Nick groans. “Nice!” I say sarcastically. “Yeah - but you’d still have the same personality,” Nick says. “You’d still be a TWAT!” I laugh at Nick's comment. “SO?! Girls don’t care about lad's personalities when they look like Josh!” “Since when did you become an expert on what girls like and want?” I ask. “I LOVE this film!” Nick says as I’m pulling on my skinny painted on jeans which make my quads look fucking ridiculous. I feel a flutter of something in my chest. I turn around and see Nick holding the Goonies DVD Ryan lent me. “I’ve never seen it,” I confess. “Are you joking?!” I smirk and shake my head. What the fuck is it with this film? “Nope! Some guy from the gym lent it to me.” I half expect Nick to do an impression of Sloth. That’s not really him though. I guess he’s a bit more introverted than Ryan. Less of an absolute fucking nutter. “We could stay in and watch that instead?” I suggest. “FUCK OFF!” Tony cries. Half an hour later and the three of us are sitting around a table at a pub on the seafront. “I can not believe we haven’t come to Bristol to stay with you yet,” Tony says. “I kept saying you should come up!” Nick replies. “Next year. It’s gonna happen!” Tony says, pointing at the both of us. “Right. Shots!” “NO WAY!” Nick says. “Work tomorrow. Remember?” “Where are you living next year?” I ask Nick, ignoring Tony. “Got a student house with some mates.” Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to go to a normal university. To not live in a shared dorm room. To live in a student house in a city like Bristol and study with lads who aren’t flexing bodybuilders. To have girls in my class. I wouldn’t mind experiencing that. But maybe just for, like, a day? Tony gasps. “Are you sharing with girls?” Fucking hell. I laugh and shake my head. Nick shakes his head. “All lads. Though you might be Rob’s type!” he says with a smirk. I feel my chest tighten. “Huh?” Tony says. “He’s gay." I bury my face in my pint glass. “You’re gonna be sharing with a batty boy?” Tony says. My stomach twists and Nick rolls his eyes. “I hope you’ve got locks on the doors!” Nick looks at me and rolls his eyes. I feel oddly nervous. I hope my expression isn’t giving anything away. “You better not say anything like that when you come and visit!” Nick says. “I’m serious, Tone!” Tony pulls a face and holds his hands up. “Bagsy not sleeping in Rob’s room though!” Fuck’s sake. I roll my eyes. Tony’s starting to piss me off. “And you better not bloody let HIM anywhere near him either!” he adds, pointing at me. What the fuck? My stomach clenches. I look from Tony and Nick confused. “Gays fucking LOVE muscle guys like you!” I look at Nick and shake my head. I want to get away from this fucking conversation. Tony gasps. “There’s a girl at work. She’s a lesbian. And she’s fucking FIT!” Nick gasps. “A lesbian? In BRIGHTON?!” I look at Nick and we exchange smirks. This is the first time I've seen him in months. He seems different. More grown-up I guess. Although that’s not exactly hard when you’re comparing him with Tone. That’s probably down to Nick being at uni in Bristol. I’m sure Woody said he went to Bristol to visit a mate at uni there once. In fact, I know he did. “Are there gay lads at YOUR uni, Deano?” My stomach clenches. “I dunno!” I say, shrugging and taking another swig of my pint. “Do you even GET gay bodybuilders?” Fucking hell. I look up. Both of them are looking at me waiting to answer. “How the fuck should I know?” “Ummm … you’re a bodybuilder? At a university for bodybuilders?” I groan and shake my head. “Need a piss!” I say, even though I don’t. Even though I just want to escape from my friends. And this fucking conversation. Thankfully they’ve moved on to talking about our crazy fifth form Geography teacher when I come back to the table. And then Tony suddenly stops talking mid-sentence. “WOAH!” he cries, looking towards the door. “Mate - looks like you’re not the beefiest lad in the pub anymore!” Nick and I turn around and my heart fucking leaps into my throat. Because walking into the pub looking like an absolute monster in a pair of skinny jeans and a white, short-sleeved shirt is Ryan North. Fucking. HELL. “That is one good looking, dude!” Tony says. Jesus. Why do I feel so nervous? It’s so surreal to see Ryan in the ordinary setting of a pub, surrounded by non-bodybuilders. People are staring at him. He looks incredible in that shirt. His biceps are fucking bulging. The top of his thick pecs peeking out of the top of the material. His tan contrasted with the white material. He almost looks superhuman. Like he’s transcended a normal level of hotness to become something else entirely. And then I suddenly notice who he’s with. A gorgeous leggy blonde in a white dress. His fucking girlfriend. My stomach lurches. Which is ridiculous, because I knew Ryan had a girlfriend. I’ve seen pictures of him with his girlfriend. So why is seeing him with her having this weird effect on me? “Erm ... I know him!” I tell Tony and Nick. I feel strangely proud of that fact. That I know a guy that hot and huge. I don’t tell them that I blew a load thinking about him yesterday. And then lay on my bed afterwards pretending that his arm was wrapped around me. “His girlfriend’s stunning!” Nick exclaims. I take another swig of my drink. I turn around again, this time in the direction of the bar. I can’t not look at Ryan. And then he looks in my direction and fuck - my stomach flips as we make eye contact. He knocks his head back, looking surprised, then smiles and nods. It’s not the usual kind of smile I get from him in the gym though. It’s more restrained. More awkward. Is he nervous to see me? “Shall we go somewhere else after this?” I suggest to Tony and Nick. “I dunno, I wouldn’t mind meeting your mate’s girlfriend,” Tony says, sitting up and looking over with absolutely no shame. Fuck’s sake. Tony’s such a fucking twat sometimes. I shake my head and swig my beer again. I’m starting to get that feeling, that desire to get wasted. To get fucking smashed. God - I hope Ryan doesn’t come over. But then - I also kinda hope he does. And soon enough, Tony’s giving me this wide-eyed look and signalling to something behind him. And I know exactly why. I turn my head and - as predicted - one of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen in real life is walking towards me. The guy I had a wank over yesterday. With his fucking girlfriend. It’s funny. I was nervous at the prospect of him coming over, but now he’s here, looking insanely sexy as he bulges out of his white shirt, I’m suddenly filled with this incredible warmth. And this unexpected rush. At being near him. At Ryan just being here. I stand up as he reaches our table. “What are the chances?” he says, with a big grin. I swear it should be fucking illegal for a guy to be this huge and handsome. He introduces his girlfriend to me as Katie. “This is Deano JUNIOR!” he says to her. She’s smiling. She's obviously heard about my dad from Ryan. She leans down (because, of course, she’s fucking taller than me), puts her hand on my shoulder and gives me a kiss on the cheek. God, she’s gorgeous. She seems pretty nice, I guess. I don’t know though. I kind of get this vibe that she might be a bit stuck up. Which really isn’t the type of person I’d imagine Ryan to be with him. I introduce the two of them to Nick and Tony, who is surprisingly restrained and well behaved. Tony’s actually not really confident around girls. At all. It’s kind of funny seeing Ryan standing next to Tony. Superhuman versus regular human. I’d love Ryan to just lean towards Tony and crank out a quick most muscular. Teeth gritted. Face scrunched. Letting out a little growl. I’m smirking to myself at the thought. Katie’s asking me if I’m a Brighton boy. Apparently she’s from Portslade. When I tell her my mum lives there, Ryan gives me this look like he’s particularly interested in this piece of information. I guess I haven’t really told him about my mum yet. I ask Katie if she’s coming to the expo next weekend and she shakes her head. Which surprises me. Okay - maybe she has a good reason for not going. But it just seems odd. To have a boyfriend who’s a bodybuilder and not go to one of his shows. To not be sitting in the audience and swelling with pride as your huge, gorgeous boyfriend shows off his big, shredded glutes and cranks out multiple, trap erupting most musculars on stage to a chorus of cheers from his adoring spectators. “Awww, babe. You won’t get me to see me in my shiny posers!” Ryan says in a teasing voice. Babe. Jesus! Katie looks at me, pulls a face and rolls her eyes. “Once was enough, thanks!” What the fuck? My chest tightens. Ryan doesn’t seem that phased by the comment. He looks at me with an eyebrow raised and smirks. I guess she sort of said it in a jokey way, but I don’t know - it just seemed like a really weird comment to make. Especially to a bodybuilder who’s your boyfriend. I’d be fucking pissed off if someone I was going out with said that to me. Even if it meant as a joke. Why would you be dating a bodybuilder but have an issue with him wearing posing trunks? Katie looks at Ryan and they exchange knowing little smiles and my stomach suddenly lurches. “Who wants shots?” I ask, surprising myself. Nick looks at me surprised. “No, mate!” he says, shaking his head and giving me a warning look. Tony’s smiling at me wide eyed. I know I’d have gotten a more enthusiastic response than that if Katie weren’t here. It’s kind of sweet how shy Tony is with girls. People think he’s this gobby, loud-mouthed twat. But there’s so much more going on underneath all of that. Maybe that’s why we get on so well. I look at the sickeningly beautiful couple next to me. Ryan looks as if he’s tempted by the offer but Katie is shaking her head. She looks at Ryan and shoots him a warning look and he declines. Ha! Fucking pussy whipped. I go to the bar, this horrible feeling in my stomach. My head is starting to spin. I could never see enough of seeing Ryan in his posing trunks. Even his shiny ones. And I’d go to all of his shows. Every single one. And I’d let him drink shots and do as many Sloth impressions in public as he likes. I’d hold his hand too. Why isn’t she holding his hand? How can you be with a guy like Ryan and not want to touch him at every opportunity? I look back over to the group. I see Ryan’s arm placed gently on Katie’s back and my stomach lurches. The barman comes over with four sambuca shots (two for me and two for Tony). “Can I have an extra one?” I pay for them and down the fifth sambuca shot. The barman gives me this judgmental look and I shoot him a look back as if to say, 'What the fuck are you looking at?' I ask some random guy at the bar to help me carry my shots back to the group. I think he does it mostly because he’s terrified of how muscular I am. “We’ll leave you to it, mate!” Ryan says. My heart fucking drops. Because Ryan’s leaving. I know that’s Katie’s doing. I don’t really blame her I guess. I wouldn’t wanna spend my night standing with my boyfriend’s boss’s son watching him down shots and get wankered with his twat mates. She kisses me again on the cheek and Ryan says he’ll see me on Monday. But as he leaves, he looks back with this almost longing expression like he’s practically being dragged away. Like he actually wants to stay. Or maybe I’m just imagining that. Maybe that’s just what I want to think. “Fuckin’ hell. That is bang tidy!” Tony says, watching Katie walk away. I don’t know what I’m feeling but I know it’s not good. I pick up the sambuca shot and down it. “Bloody hell, mate!” Tony says. “Don’t wait for me, will you?” I pick up my second (though it’s really my third) shot glass and hold it up to Tony. “Come on then! Pussy!” Tony bangs his hands on the table. “YES, mate!” he says laughing. Nick shoots me this concerned look. I down my third sambuca shot and shake my head as the taste burns my throat. I turn my head and look out of the window of the pub and to the sea. And now I’m picturing Ryan’s hand on Katie’s back. Placed so gently. I’m thinking about the way he looked at her. That smile. That look. And now I’m thinking about the way Woody and Luke looked at each other on the last day of term in the Watson House gym again. I grip the arms of my chair with my fingers, close my eyes and take a deep breath. I’m ready to get totally fucking wrecked.
  41. 15 points
    After popular demand (thanks @Superkappa @Hialmar @Debatel @shizumaru @MochiNii @Kona @Isosuke @BigBen @Neverbigenoughmuscle and @Two) here is part 2: ‘Please, guys,’ said Andy. ‘Don’t – don’t hurt me. Stay back.’ The muscle chavs looked at each other and laughed. ‘Oh, please don’t hurt me!’ mimicked Dean, in the squeakiest voice he could manage, now that his own tone had dropped in a bestial growl. ‘Such a pathetic little dick-squirt,’ said Lee. ‘Look at him, poncing about with his tits on display, thinking he’s the big ‘I am’.’ Dean advanced on his victim. His raven hair, shaved high and tight on his scalp, bristling as stubble around his hard jawline, emphasised the cruelty of his blue eyes and the aggressive pout of his mouth. ‘Look at you, little gay porn boy, thinking that’s a big chest, innit.’ He loomed over Andy, so close the boy could smell his bully’s Lynx deodorant. Inside the bully’s tight white t-shirt, he made his pecs bounce and dance. ‘Check out these beauties. And – gah!’ He snarled with pain and staggered backward. The already impressive chest now swelled and grew huge. Panting, Dean hooked his fingers in the fabric of his t-shirt and effortlessly ripped it apart. His huge chest was covered in curly dark hair, with the little gold cross glinting from amongst them. Dean looked down at the new, juicy pecs appreciatively, a wolfish grin on his face. ‘Fucking yes,’ he said, running his big hands across them. ‘God, I look good. And strong. And I feel like I could fuck ten girls and fill them all up with hot spunk.’ He licked his teeth and looked at Andy again. ‘Scared yet?’ Andy held up his hands. ‘Of course, I’m scared. You need to stop and think about what you’re doing.’ ‘No time for that, mate.’ Lee came alongside his partner in crime. He took off his baseball cap and wiped the sweat off his brow into his short blonde crop. The big orbs of his pecs, shoulders, biceps and gut were gleaming succulently with perspiration. He clenched and unclenched his fists excitedly, and muscles moved in his big beefy forearms, dusted with blonde hair, and making a Millwall tattoo dance. He put the cap on again at an angle and adjusted his chunky chain. ‘But look at yourselves,’ said Andy. ‘It's like you’re mutating. You’re not just strong and powerful bodybuilders. You’re almost acting like animals.’ Dean looked down at himself again, considering Andy’s warning; his hands were still massaging his furry pectorals, his fingers working the big, dark pink, light-switch nipples, as though he were about to have a big wank. But next to him, his mate Lee just lifted up his huge arm and gave the sweaty, blonde furry pit a good deep sniff. ‘Yep,’ he said. ‘Fucking smell like a dog or a lion or sumfing.’ He curled the arm into a big, round, vascular bicep. ‘And after we’ve finished with you, you pathetic little cunt, we’re going to go out and find some nice sweet gaping cunt and we’re going to get up to our nuts in their guts, just like a dog on fucking heat.’ He clutched his cock through his trackie bottoms. Either he’d chubbed up, or that had grown too, or perhaps a bit of both. ‘I’m worried you’re going to lose control,’ said Andy, backing away into the showers. ‘You might do something you shouldn’t do.’ ‘Hmm,’ said Lee. ‘You could be right.' He grinned. ‘And it sounds good to me,’ said Dean, walking after Andy into the deserted, tiled space. He was still teasing his own big left tit. With the other hand, he was reaching for Andy. ‘Yeah,’ said Lee. ‘I’m about to fucking lose control and I think I love it!’ Dean gave Andy a little shove and the lad went down hard, landing on his arse and looking up at his two assailants. Dean chuckled. ‘Hey, Lee, your uncle knows what he's doing with that stuff. I’m so strong now, innit? Think we can score some more off of him?’ ‘Don’t you think you’re big enough?’ said Andy. ‘You’re like - I dunno - Chris Evans with that body, Dean.’ ‘Not as big me though, Deanie boy,’ said Lee, muscling in. ‘Check out these guns. I am Thor!’ He flexed. Dean flexed in comparison. They were like two animals sparring. Andy thought quickly. Could he turn it to his advantage? ‘Yeah,’ he said, ‘I think Lee could be the bigger guy.’ ‘Fuck off is he,’ said Dean, his brows knit. ‘Look at me. I’m bigger than him. I’m bigger than anyone.’ He pulled his trackie bottoms down to his ankles, and pulled his dick out of his boxers. ‘Knew it,’ he said. ‘Fucking huge.’ Lee’s jaw dropped. ‘Mate,’ he said. ‘Have you always been that big, bro?’ ‘No way,’ said Dean. ‘It’s that supplement, mate. I could feel it make my cock and balls grow when it done the rest of me. And this ain’t even fucking hard.’ ‘I gotta check mine,’ said Lee. His tracksuit bottoms were so tight, he had to rip them to get his dick out. It was obvious, even while soft, that he was very well endowed. ‘Holy shit, it was 7 inches this morning, and I thought it was big then.’ ‘I was always 7.5 inches,’ said Lee. ‘So I’m gonna be bigger now too.’ He looked across at their victim. ‘Get over here, you filthy little cocksucker. Tell us who’s biggest.’ ‘Yeah,’ said Lee. ‘This is your special subject.’ Andy was suddenly worried. What would these lads do to him, high on testosterone, big as bulls? But there was nowhere to run. He got onto his knees and shuffled over to them. The lads’ big dicks were stiffening at his approach. It was genuinely hard to tell who was biggest. Both were thick and long, but was Dean’s longer? It looked more than 9 inches now. And then again, could Lee’s have been thicker. Lee suddenly smacked Andy in the face with his meat stick. He laughed. Now Dean was joining in, both of them whacking the submissive lad’s face with their huge cocks, sticky with pre-cum. ‘Stop it,’ said Andy. ‘Please.’ Suddenly, there was a noise in the changing room. The sound of a door slamming, and then someone whistling. Andy felt hope for the first time. ‘Dad!’ he called. ‘Oh, man,’ growled Dean. ‘Is it going to be Andy-Pandy’s daddy-waddy? Is he going to see his little lad like this, on the floor for his superiors?’ ‘Fucking awesome,’ said Lee, laughing. ‘Andy?’ A familiar face appeared around the corner, with a shaved head and a thick neck to follow. It was Ben. ‘You okay?’ He took in the situation and his kind eyes went wide. ‘What the fuck’s going on here?’ Andy looked up at his hench chav masters. ‘Ben’s not my actual dad, guys, he’s a little older – and he’s my trainer. In the last couple of weeks, well, he’s become more than that.’ Lee made a ‘going to be sick’ noise, and Dean said, ‘Oh my days!’ ‘Is anyone going to explain the situation?’ said Ben. ‘I mean, I know we’re not exclusive, Andy, but –’ ‘These are the guys I was telling you about,’ Andy said, trying to catch his breath. ‘The guys who have been bullying me for years.’ ‘Aww, he talks about us to the old geezer who sticks his dick up his shitter,’ said Dean. ‘Hi, Andy’s Dad.’ ‘The two scally lads?’ said Ben. ‘But you said they didn’t go to the gym. You said they were two little streaks of piss.’ ‘We were,’ said Lee. ‘But we grew. And we grew. And we grew.’ ‘But if you want a streak of piss,’ said Dean, and stuck his long hard erection in Andy’s mouth, unleashing a torrent of pee into his throat. Andy spluttered and tried to get away, but Dean grabbed his hair and kept his forehead tight on his sculpted abs, the hard dick buried deep in the unwilling gay boy’s mouth. ‘Ah, yeah, take that you little gay cunt.’ ‘Oi, cunt, pick on someone your own size!’ Ben strode over to them and shoved Dean hard in the chest. Ben was one of the biggest guys in Andy’s gym. Andy always glowed with pride when they worked out together, spotting one another. Today he wore a black singlet that was stained with sweat and showed off the pump and vascularity of his extraordinary physique. But Lee was bigger than him. He squared up to Ben, and with his jaw clenched and chain glinting, the sheer bulk and threat of him was disturbing. ‘You wanna start something, eh?’ he was saying. ‘You wanna fucking start something?’ Ben immediately realised he was in too deep, and raised his hands in surrender, but the two pumped up muscle beasts were both directing their energy at him now. ‘Get on your knees,’ Lee said. ‘Get on your fucking knees.’ ‘Do it, Dad,’ said Andy. He felt strangely excited. His dick stood out hard as iron from his body. Ben heaved a huge sigh and went down on his knees, his face red with fury. ‘You thought we were just two pathetic chavs,’ said Lee, caressing the close-shaved back of Lee’s scalp. ‘And maybe that’s what we were yesterday. But now we are your superiors. Alpha male muscle beasts with anaconda cocks. You’re going to show me what a good little cocksucker you are now. Worship this muscle. Worship that king size knob.’ ‘And I,’ said Dean, flexing his huge, flushed, furry muscle, ‘am going to cram this monster knob in your tight little gay behind. Innit!' TO BE CONTINUED
  42. 14 points
    The Wall, Chapter 15 “TSA” My ride to JFK arrived promptly at four. As promised, my complete itinerary and an invitation to the KPNG gala were handed to me by the driver. After a quick stop at the KLN desk to check baggage, I headed to straight to the security line. From my new taller perch, I could see the checkpoint was a mess. The TSA pre-check and Clear lines were closed for some reason, and all of the other long lines were queued up, including priority/first. For a good 20 minutes, I was on slow motion display to the security team and my fellow travelers as the line slowly snaked back and forth. It was my first venture out in public since my most recent growth, and the reactions of others were interesting and mixed. Almost everyone was curious, at least to a degree. True to form, small kids and young boys were the most inquisitive, staring and pointing and asking their parents if I were a football player or a giant or even sasquatch in one case. Straight business men in their 40s and 50’s appeared least interested, mostly avoiding eye contact and only stealing a glance when they thought I wasn’t looking. Some women in their 30s-50s exhibited feigned or serious disgust, rolling their eyes and whispering quietly to each other while looking as if they had swallowed a bad oyster and were trying not to bring it up. Other women from their 20s-60s openly exhibited their lust or attraction, staring and smiling and giggling with each other. One of the more avant-garde women, apparently traveling alone, was openly “riding” her roller bag handle, repeatedly bringing herself off while she wantonly stared. That made me and everyone else uncomfortable, and she was eventually escorted away by a large uniformed woman named Gwen. What really baffled me though was the lack of other men in line who displayed any overt attraction to me. Having traveled a lot, I have often experienced the cruisiness that goes along with a trip. I had often been on the make at the airport myself, either looking for some quick satisfaction during the boring hours between security and take-off, or seeking a travel companion for fun or a hook-up at my final destination. In the 20 minutes snaking through the line, I didn’t receive a single wink or a nod or a welcoming smile. I started to worry. The changes I had gone through had made me more attractive, not less. Right? I had definitely become everything I had always sought in a man, but were my tastes too extreme, and was it possible Pup would be turned off by me now? Fortunately, when I finally arrived at the station where the security guards cross-check tickets and passports, my fears were assuaged. The most exquisite brown skinned man took my passport and ticket, looked up, smiled and winked. “Good day sir. Can you tell me your name and destination please?” “I’m Max Rayburn, and I’m flying to Amsterdam. It is my final destination.” He checked my credentials and said, “My name is Charlie. I was asked by one of the other security guards to pull you out of the line. We spotted you a few rows back, and there’s no way you’re going to fit through the security detectors. We’d like your permission for in person screening.” The beautiful smile widened. “It would include patting you down manually. For your privacy, we have separate rooms for these personal screenings, and for your safety, two of us will be present for the inspection. Of course, your inspectors will be men. Do I have your consent?” Again a wink and a smile. I melted. Charlie was a knockout. Wow! “Sure. Of course. I was worried about getting through those detectors anyway. Thank you for thinking ahead.” “Well you can thank Ali here.” A gorgeous, built, young middle eastern looking man appeared. “He’s the one who identified the potential situation, and he and I will be patting you down. Ali will put your carry-on items and shoes through the detector and re-join us right over there. Is there anything in the bag that should be removed? A lap top or any liquids?” “No. Not that I know of.” “Okay, perfect, now let’s all step through this door…” The room was surprisingly spacious. It was well lit, and there was plenty of room for a desk, three folding chairs, my roller bag and more than the three of us. “Charlie, do you and Ali always work as a pair?” “We try to, Mr. Rayburn. Ali has a great eye for spotting passengers who may need some special attention, and we both really enjoy this part of our jobs.” So far, everything seemed very professional, but the whole thing was a little bit sketch, and there was sexual tension you could cut with a knife. The two guards were smoking hot, both really handsome and both with big arms straining the sleeves of their shirts and big baskets straining their zippers. Charlie knelt and began patting down my legs from my knees to my ankles and looked up. “Any orthopedic braces or prosthetics?” “No.” “Would you mind if I rolled up the leg of your trousers, sir. It feels like you’ve got something concealed here.” “No. That’s fine. It’s just me. I have big calves.” He pulled up the hem of my right pants leg, but it wouldn’t fit over the ball of my calf. He looked up again. “Really, it’s just my calf muscle. Put your hands on it, and I’ll show you.” He let my pant leg drop and put his hands as far around my right calf as he could. I pushed up on my toes, and my calf transformed into a small boulder in his hands. “Whoa! That’s insane!” I lowered down off my toes. His hands stayed on my right calf, massaging the muscle. Then he moved one hand to the left calf so he could grope both legs at once. “Hey, you got two of these weapons,” he said, grunting and massaging and smiling again. “I’ve got a lot more than that,” I said, flexing my thighs as his “pat down” continued slightly higher He looked up adoringly. “Do you have muscle like that everywhere?” His great hands kept exploring. I was feeling warm in my crotch. If he kept doing what he was doing, my “concealed weapon” really was going to reveal itself. “And then some.” I replied. It was my turn to wink. Charlie smiled. “Oh wow” said Ali who had started to pat down my back. “Charlie and I have taken up bodybuilding ourselves. You obviously have a much more developed physique than either of us. Would you mind showing us a few poses? It would be a real treat for us, and it might also make the security screening go faster.” Ah hah! Just as I figured. “Are there any cameras in here?” I asked. “Only that one,” Ali pointed, “and we can cover it up.” “Okay. Well, I’m always supportive of young bodybuilders who are just starting out, but it will have to be quick. I have to make my flight. This trip is a very important. “Here’s the deal. I’ll show a some of my physique, but you have to show me some of your, too. I’ll take off my coat and my shirt if you two also strip to the waist so I can see how you’re coming along.” “Deal!” They both said it so fast that I was sure I’d been set up. It must have been their plan all along, although I think they might have been hoping for a fully nude screening with more than a pat down. While the boys were covering the camera and stripping, I took off my coat and undid the buttons down the front of my shirt. I pulled the shirttails from the waist of my pants, and the front of my shirt opened slightly. It was enough for them to see the deep crevice between my meaty pecs as well as the pelt of swirling dark hair that spread across my chest and spilled down the center of my abdomen. When I looked up, the boys were both shirtless. It turned out they were better put together than I had thought. They actually had great, balanced bodies, and I started to think they might be as serious about bodybuilding as they were about getting hot guys to take off their clothes. “I see you two have been putting in the work. You both have great structure and genetic potential, and, wow, you’ve already put on some nice size.” I reached out and grabbed two handfuls of deltoid, one from each man. I opened my mouth to speak again and then shut it. They weren’t listening to me. They were staring. The breeze from an overhead vent had kicked on and started ruffling my shirt. The boys were getting fleeting previews of my body as I stood there. Substantial erections were developing and straining the fronts of their pants. “Okay, well, I guess it’s time for my part of the deal…” I brought my wrists together to unbutton my cuffs, purposely flexing my pecs and my shoulders. Th mass of my muscle rose up and then settled, again ruffling my shirt tails and widening the front opening. I saw Charlie’s dick twitch, and Ali adjusted himself. Ali whispered, “Fuck, Charlie, did you see that?” “I know, man. This guy’s gonna make me blow.” I could have easily shrugged the shirt from my shoulders, but I decided getting help from my audience might be more fun. “Would you men mind giving me a hand with this shirt? It’s freshly ironed, and I don’t want to wrinkle it before I even get on the plane.” They each took one side of the front and pulled my shirt open, exposing the mass of my chest. Ali muttered, “Oh my god. Fuck me...,” and Charlie just muffle a low hmmm. I shrugged as they crested my shoulders, revealing flawless tan skin covering masses of round deltoids. Then I carefully pulled my arms from the sleeves, and the shirt cascaded to the floor. Charlie and Ali had just dropped it. Neither one seemed to care anymore if my shirt wrinkled or not. The boys just stood slack-jawed. Their seeming lack of animation was amusing. Were it not for the visible throbbing of their hardons, they could have been mistaken for zombies. They were completely entranced. I retrieved the shirt from the floor and draped it over one of the chairs. Then I stood to full height, and I took a deep breath. I raised my arms high and clasped my hands behind my head. Then I very slowly and deliberately flared my lats and exhaled, tightening my abs as I blew the air out until the full 10-pack of deep cobbles was on full display. I rocked my hips to the left and then to the right, displaying razor cuts on each side. Then I brought my arms down and stuck one leg forward. I rounded my shoulders and brought my fists together in a most muscular pose. I increased the flex slowly, allowing my muscles to seemingly inflate and grow larger. Eventually every muscle in my upper body was flexed fully, and I looked like an enormous range of mountains. Finally, it was time for my signature pose. Again I stood tall. I pushed down with my fists, flexed my pecs really hard, together just once, and then I just stood there relaxed, allowing them to take me all in. I just stood there. It was silent. Their eyes scanned my body. I shifted my feet and dropped my chin, and then in a single, graceful arc, I raised my fists into a mighty double biceps pose, and I flexed. I held it a second, and then I flexed harder. The taller peak of each biceps rose higher. The effect was devastating. They were totally destroyed. I could see Ali’s dick spasming repeatedly, and Charlie got his big tool out just in time to fire it off like a cannon shooting rope after rope across the room. Then they both slumped into chairs, panting and sweating – thoroughly finished. Somehow through all this, I had maintained my composure. I reached for my shirt and started to dress. “I guess that means we’re done with the private security screening. Did I pass?” Neither one had the energy to answer, but Charlie chuckled and dreamily smiled that beautiful smile. As I walked out the door I looked over my shoulder, “Just FYI, I’ll be returning from Amsterdam with my boyfriend Sunday evening . Our flight arrives at 7:55 if you’d like to fast track us through passport control. I'm sure that you'd like him... Think about it.”
  43. 14 points
    It's been a fairly long time since I have posted anything here. However, I've had this one rattling around my head for a while now and decided to post it. So without further ado, I offer for your consumption... _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ "Like" Part 1 By: LoverBoy "He's hot!" I looked up from my phone at Jerrod. "What?" He tilted his head toward the statue standing at the front of the display. "I said, 'he's hot'." I looked at the statue. It was carved from a stone I couldn't identify that looked almost black as obsidian until you looked a bit closer and realized that it had a subtle, reddish-broze hue when the light hit it from a certain angle. It was a crudely detailed, obviously male figure standing on a pedestal of some sort with his hands on his hips in a Superman pose. I say "obviously" male because, despite the crudeness of the detail, the figure had been sculpted with a sort of symmetrical lumpiness to the overall form that suggested a hypermuscularity. And if that left any doubt, there was also the unmistakable, approximately ten inch protrusion sticking straight out from the pelvic region. The lack of sophistication in tools and skill was also evident in the exaggerated proportions of the figure. An impossibly wide shoulders and upper torso tapered drastically to a tiny waist area, then swelled immensely outward again from the hips to what would be legs that were equally as gargantuan as the upper body. Without the added height of the pedestal, the whole statue would have stood easily at least eight feet in height. And on the pedestal was carved a symbol that resembled a stick figure man doing a double biceps pose. I looked back at Jerrod, "Ya think so?" Jared gave me a sultry leer. "Tell me you wouldn't let him pound you with that monster tool." I looked skeptically at the ridiculously long, thick shaft protruding from the statue's groin, and bobbed my head back and forth as if giving it some thought. "Maybe. I just hope he's not a grower!" We looked at each other for a moment before we both burst out laughing. My phone chimed, signaling that I just received a notification on Instagram. I straightened and composed myself as I checked. I had gotten twenty Likes on my latest pics. Before I could scroll any more, Jared grabbed my phone from my hands. "God! Would you stop staring at your phone all the time!" "Hey...!" I reached for the device only for him to extend his arm backward, moving the phone out my reach. "What's wrong, Aaron? Afraid I'll see your naughty nudes...?", he teased. I stepped forward to reach for my phone again, but this time he stepped in, blocking my path with his body. He lithely slipped his other arm around my waist and pulled me in, planting his lips firmly on mine effortlessly. As our mouths locked, I helplessly melted into him as we kissed. He was so good at this sort of thing. I forgot about the phone, and let my arms wrap around him. One hand glided over the expanse of his back, feeling the hard ripples of muscle through his shirt. The other hand went lower, coming to rest on the firmness of his ass. Jerrod was on our school's swim team. They all had great bodies, as swimmers usually do, but none of them had an ass quite as perfectly round and firm as Jerrod's! We broke the kiss, disentangling from each other. I was a bit breathless from the suddenness of the kiss, and wiped away a small bit of saliva I could feel on my lower lip. "What was that for?" I said breathlessly. "For?", he said quizzically, "I didn't know I needed a reason to kiss my boyfriend" he said with mock dismay and a mischievous smirk. I stood there for a moment, feeling my cheeks flush as I noticed a few glances from other people nearby looking at the exhibit. "Awww, you're so cute when you're embarrassed." "Can I have my phone back now?" He looked at my phone, "What're you looking at on here anyway...?" He swiped the screen a few times with his index finger and gave a low whistle. "Niiiiiiiiice...!" I blushed again. The pictures I had uploaded were douchey, post-workout mirror pics from the locker room last night while Jerrod had been in the shower. I had made progress, increasing my max lift by five pounds and several reps. I had seen myself in the mirror while undressing for the shower, and thought I looked exceptionally ripped, so I snapped a few pics of my reflection with my phone. I'm not really very vain, but I had felt uncharacteristically confident and pumped, so I decided to post them on Instagram. To my surprise, they had received a small slew of Likes and even a few positive comments. Jerrod tossed my phone to me. "See? I told ya you were making progress." I felt my cheeks flush again,"Yeah...I guess so. I'll never look like you, though." He smiled, taking a small step forward and placing a tender hand on my cheek. "Sure you will. With me guiding you, and encouraging you? You'll be a big'ol beefcake in no time." Jerrod and I were sophomores in high school, but we had been best friends since fifth grade when he and his dads had moved in next door to my dad and I. We were so close, and so similar in appearance that some people mistook us for fraternal twins. And last summer, during a weekend at his dads' lake house, what began innocently as two best friends going for a swim in the warm, waning light of a late 4th of July afternoon turned into an intense makeout session on the boat dock of the lake! The first for both of us. Neither of us had had any clue what we were supposed to be doing. Rather, we had just given into something we had known was there for a long time. When we came walking back to the house holding hands, the only responses we got were a knowing smile and a shake of the head from my dad, and a more boistrous "'Bout time!" from Rick, the older of Jerrod's dads. We had been inseparable for the rest of the summer, and every day since. "I dare you to touch it!" I came out of the reverie with a shake of my head at Jerrod's words, "What...?" "I said 'touch it'!" Jerrod was looking at me expectantly. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and tilted his head sideways in the direction of the statue. "Go'head...I dare ya!" I looked at the statue, then back at Jerrod incredulously, "No!" "Awww, c'mon! No one will see you. Just hop under the rope, and give his tool a quick tap. Easy. Won't take five seconds." I looked around, trying to find some excuse not to, but the other museum goers that had been nearby were gone. "There's cameras, dumbass!" He sighed with mock disappointment. "Scaredy cat! Well, if you won't..." Before I could stop him, Jerrod had slipped nimbly under the velvet rope, and stepped toward the statue with his hand outstretched toward the statue's exaggerated phallus. With a quick glance around and a curse under my breath, I ducked under the rope after him. I stepped up behind him to grab his arm and haul him back, but a split second before I could get a hold of him, he sidestepped. With a lightning fast turn to the left, he moved from between me and the statue, and I felt my balance shift into a forward momentum. I stumbled forth toward the statue, and felt my hand come into contact with something rock hard and cylindrical. I looked down to see my hand resting solidly on the phallus of the stone figure. Before I could pull my hand away, my vision blanked! I was overcome with a feeling like standing in a massive chamber of pitch black darkness. An indescribably deep, resounding sound reached my ears. I realized it was the sound of someone chuckling and it made my skin crawl! As I looked around in the impenetrable darkness for the source of the noise, Two glowing points of light winked into view some distance away. They were low and smouldering like the embers of a fire that had all but burned out, but they cast an almost golden light, like someone holding a flashlight up behind a piece of amber. The voice came again from the direction of the twin lights in an almost yawning tone "At last...!" A cold sort of frisson of fear ran over my scalp and down my spine as I realized that the lights were two glowing eyes peering at me from the obsidian darkness! They moved as if their owner were standing up and walking toward me, and I tried to turn frantically and run away... ...Only to collide heavily with Jerrod who was standing directly behind me! We fell to the floor of the museum in a frantic tangle of limbs. I am not afraid to admit that a panicked yelp of unadulterated terror escaped me as I believed for a moment that the figure in the darkness had grabbed a hold of me! Jerrod sat up and grabbed my shoulders, steadying me as I looked about in fear. "What the hell, Aaron?! What's wrong...?" "He's going to get me!!!" Jerrod grabbed my face between his hands, and held me steady, gazing directly into my eyes. "Who's going to get you?!" I calmed some as I looked around, realizing I was sitting on the floor of the museum, "It..it was...I...I don't...I don't know...! What...what happened...?" Jerrod's expression was of complete concern, "I'm not sure. The second you touched the statue, you yanked your hand back like it was electrified", he spoke carefully. "Then you turned around with a look on your face like you had just seen the Devil in the flesh. Then you nearly ran me over!" "I..I didn't go anywhere?" "No. It was only a couple of seconds. You were here the whole time. Why? What do you think happened?" I cast about, still feeling the lingering touch of anxiety. "I don't know. I think...I think I had some sort of hallucination." Jerrod looked at me skeptically. "What did you see?" I tried to remember, but what I saw seemed to be slipping from my memory. All I could remember was... "Eyes!" "Eyes...?" "Yes! I remember eyes!" He looked at me again with uncertainty, "Eyes...well, that's...weird! Ow!" I punched him in the arm, "Don't make fun of me! It was a hallucination, it's supposed to be weird!" Jerrod stood up, and took my hand, lifting me to my feet easily. "I think we need to get something to eat. We haven't had anything since breakfast, and we totally missed lunch. It's almost four o'clock. I think your brain is starving. We need to get it some nutrients, pronto!" As we left the room the exhibit was in, two security guards walked up to us. "We saw you guys sitting on the floor on the security feed. What were you doing?" I went to reply, but Jerrod spoke up first, "Nothing, nothing. My boyfriend here had a panic attack, that's all. No harm done." The taller, of the two guards eyed me cautiously, "You know, you're not supposed to touch the exhibits, Sir." I shot Jerrod a piercing look, and he cleared his throat, speaking hurriedly. "Ahem, yeah, that was my fault. I dared him." He motioned back toward the exhibit and the statue "See? No harm done. Won't happen again. We're leaving, I promise!" I must have looked a little shaken still because the older security guard gave me a once over with his eyes, "You sure you're okay, son?" I nodded, wanting to leave quickly before they thought I might have done something to the exhibit, "Yeah, yeah...I...I'm fine." I tried giving him a reassuring smile that only marginally succeeded, "I j-just need some fresh air." "Okay", he said, unconvinced, "If you're sure." And with that, we left the exhibit hall on our way to leave the museum. As we did, I dared a fleeting glance back at the statue. The afternoon rays of the sun were beaming in brightly through the museum windows. It must have been a trick of the light, but I thought for a moment as we left that the statue seemed to be smiling at me and the symbol on the statue's base was glowing a fain yellow, almost amber color. _________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Part 2 to follow soon, I hope. LB
  44. 14 points
    The Wall, Part 10 “Eye Candy” He strutted onto the property as if he owned it. I had heard the truck drive up and the door slam. I looked out the window. It was like Jersey Shore comes to Long Island. The young Italian hunk was preened like a peacock, not a hair out of place. His jeans were slung so low that I could see his grunge in the front and a trail of hair disappearing into his butt crack in the back. His ass was a work of art, bouncing and flexing as he walked. His oversized belt buckle rested just above an ample bulge, and there was a two inch gap between his belt and his shirt. What most caught my attention were the words on his shirt. The color of the shirt cloth itself was turquoise, and it was stretched across a magnificent body. Rolled up at the sleeves, it revealed the curves of round biceps and triceps, and it stretched over mountains of powerful traps and muscular shoulders. His pecs were the best part, however, disproportionately large – no, disproportionately huge -- high, thick and wide. They were so big that they were almost cartoonish. The shirt stretched tight across his massive chest, and I could make out not only his nipples, but also his large areolae. In bold white letters across that sumptuous chest were two words in white lettering, all caps: EYE CANDY. Were it not so absurd, were it not so insanely true, and if he were not such a cliché, it all would have been laughable. It would have seemed he was trying too hard, but since he was such a gorgeous piece of Italian male perfection, it actually worked. In fact, it worked so well that I wondered if there weren’t an adept mind and wry sense of humor behind those mirrored sunglasses. The front doorbell rang. I opened the door. There stood Eye Candy, mirrored glasses and all. “Hey, man. Nice place. You live here?” “Maybe… Who’s asking?’ “Oh, sorry, man. The name’s Lucky, and I’m looking for the dude who is building your wall. I’m a stone mason apprentice, and I noticed he does nice work. I just finished a wall down the road at 2311, the Bernstein place. I thought maybe your dude could use some help. I could use the dough. I’m kind of in between gigs right now, and I’ve been eyeing some new chrome rims for my rig.” He motioned to the shiny black truck in my driveway. “Well, Lucky, I haven’t seen the mason myself, but he seems to be making quick work of the wall. If you don’t connect with him soon, I’m afraid you may miss the opportunity for any work. "However,… I’ve got some other odd tasks that need attention in the garden. If you’re hungry for work, I could hire you by the hour. Then maybe if my mason returns while you’re here, you could talk to him personally. I’m Max, by the way. Max Rayburn.” “Lucky. Luciano Francesconi Ciccarello -- Catholic Italian,… in case you didn’t notice.” “No. It didn’t escape me,” I chuckled. “Not much does.” I scanned his body first down and then back up, surveying the sum total, my eyes coming to rest on his big chest. Not missing the attention, Lucky bounced his big pecs. When I looked back to his face, a crooked smile appeared, and he said, “You work out?” “Yeh, I work out.” I replied. “Thought so. You look big.” His hand absentmindedly adjusted his package. “I just wasn’t sure on account of your suit. Some big guys in suits are just fat.” He continued, “Not me. I’ve put a lot of work into this bod. I work out, and I dress for the occasion, so to speak. No need to hide the goods. I consider it a public service to display what I got. People seem to enjoy it.” He wiggled his brows. “Mrs. Bernstein enjoyed it.” He paused. “I think that you might enjoy it.” He lowered the mirrors just far enough to peer over them, and then he flexed his pecs again and smiled wryly. “I’m an equal opportunity kinda guy if you know what I’m sayin’.” ‘Hmmm… well, I suppose we’ll find out. But first, let’s talk about the work in my garden. I’m re-laying a stone pathway through a part of the garden that is very old,” I continued. “It was poorly executed when it was first installed; so, we need to pull out the whole thing and re-lay it properly. I want to maintain the original look; so, let’s save the original bluestone and reconstruct the pathway without changing the design.” I added, “Some of the stones are pretty good size. It’s heavy work, but from what I can see, you won’t have any trouble at all.” “With guns like these…” he said, raising both arms in a flex, “it won’t be a problem.” I smiled. The hard sell was making me a little uncomfortable but turning me on at the same time. Moving the conversation along, I said, “Great! I already have the tools and supplies. I’ll pay you $45 per hour for the labor. I think the whole job can be done in a day; so, we’re talking about $400 total.” Then I added, “We can discuss extras and tip at the end.” “You can start now, or you can wait till after lunch, or you can come back tomorrow. The day is not too hot yet, but the humidity is going to get pretty oppressive.” “I got my work clothes in my rig. I’ll get changed; then I can get started now. Maybe I can finish today and get paid.” Lucky’s work attire was true to his code and left nothing to the imagination. He seemed to take his “public service” seriously. He wore nothing more than a pair of oversized bib overalls and some boots. From what I could tell, he had removed everything else. He had buttoned only one of the two shoulder straps. The other flapped casually open, exposing most of his torso. The side snaps at the waist were also left open, presumably to increase ventilation, but I suspected more to expose the flex of his hips and because it gave easy access to scratch his balls and grope his package (or let someone else do that for him). His skin was flawless and smooth, perfectly tanned with no visible lines. Since it was only March and we were dealing with Lucky, I had to assume that the tan was generated by the bulb in a booth or the spray from a bottle. Nevertheless, the effect was perfection. His magnificent chest was on three-quarter display, ridiculously thick and waxed entirely hairless. Only one of two brown-red nipples surrounded by a large areola was fully in view, but I knew the other must be equally perfect. The retro areolar soft tissue puffed slightly, a side effect from the abundance of testosterone he had pumped into his system. The effect was appealing, making his tits seem that they begged to be suckled. Luciano Francesconi Ciccarello looked good enough to eat, and he knew it. He was also aware that I was hungrily watching. I stayed in the house while he worked on the walkway, attending to business Zoom meetings and making phone calls. Every time I glanced out the window to check on his progress, he would seductively rise and stretch or flex or wipe the sweat from his torso. About half past four, I went out in the garden to inspect Lucky’s work. The job site was neat, and the path stones were amazingly level and closely set. I had not expected such beautiful work from this swaggering bohunk. Behind the mirrored glasses and beneath the supped up chassis and painted on tan, Lucky was a fine craftsman. I was astounded. He was sweeping the last stones of the path when I came upon him. Pushing the broom set his sweat-shiny muscles in motion. The angle of the sun cast shadows across his frame that accentuated his size and definition. When I approached, he seemed to give an additional flex. I felt a twitch in my groin. “Whadaya think?” He asked. “In a word?” I said, “Stunning!” My reference to both his work and physique was intended and presumably received. I added, “I haven’t seen perfection like that in a very long time.” Lucky smile broadly and shifted his weight. I noticed the pendulum motion of his free swinging cock behind the loose, faded denim. He shifted again, and the pendulum swung. The effect was like that of a hypnotist’s pocket watch. It swayed, I stared, and I surrendered my will. My own cock responded and began straining my fly. “I’m glad you like it,” he said. Then he nodded to my buldge and added, “It looks like you could use a hand with something else there, if you know what I mean. I think it might be time to talk about those tips and extras you mentioned earlier.” With that, Lucky closed the distance between us and grabbed hold of my package. “Fuck! Max, you’re a monster down there.” He manipulated and massaged me until my full length extended to my left hip. He slid his hand in my pocket and continued to grope. He seemed to be weighing a measuring my size in his hand. “Fuuuuck! That’s a big piece of meat. You must have conceiled-carry permit for that thing.” He slowly leaned in and kissed me wet on the mouth, pulling me closer and sliding a meaty thigh between my legs. I couldn’t resist and ground my dick into his quads, grabbing his ass and pulling our bodies even together. He grabbed my ass back, pulling me both up and in tighter, grinding our crotches together and kneading my glutes in his strong hands. He lifted me up by my ass, demonstrating his strength and testing my weight. “Damn, Max. I can barely lift you. How much do you weigh? You are a very big boy.” “And you, Lucky, are not so small yourself.” My hands traveled up the curve of his arms, over the bulge of his shoulders and down the curve of his back and his rump, coming to rest under the curve of his ass and lifted him off the ground in return. He was solid. “Mmmmmph” “Let’s take this inside.” I opened the door to the pool house, and we stumbled inside. We entered the bedroom, and he pushed me down on the bed and backed away slowly. My eyes were wide with anticipation. If he wanted to give me a show, he had my attention. First, he kicked off his boots and took of his socks. Then, standing fully erect, he faced me and cupped his one exposed pec in his hand. He massaged the thick muscle, letting it flex and relax. He twisted the nipple and moaned softly as his other hand slid into his pants. I could tell from the outline on the front of his pants that his cock was now fully erect. He jacked it slowly. The muscles in his big shoulder and arm came alive with his manipulations. With his free hand, he then reached up to his shoulder and unhooked the remaining strap, releasing the bib and revealing the full mass of his torso. The overalls fell as far as his groin but then stopped, hung up on his massive erection. Lucky stood fully erect and perfectly still, allowing me the time and luxury to survey and absorb the full depth of his beauty. He was exquisitely carved. Were is not for the subtle rise and fall of his chest, I might have mistaken him for a statue. His muscles were large and round with deep cuts between each muscle belly. His grace of his symmetry transcended perfection. In his current condition he could easily win any number of amateur shows. He swept his hands up in an arc over his head and then pulled them down slowly into a very powerful, symmetrical double biceps pose. He held the pose few seconds and then redoubled his effort. Then he shifted his hips just slightly but enough to free the overalls and send them cascading to the floor. Huge rippling thighs were now revealed and he flexed them into a frenzy of striations as his hardon bobbed up and slapped him in his tight abs. An shiny strand of precum fell like honey across his left hip. As his posing continued, I rose from the bed. My hands ran over his arms and his shoulders. His biceps were high and round and surprisingly wide. He pushed his arms down by his sides and I felt his thick triceps. His pecs flexed seductively, rising, twisting and flexing in to hard mounds. I grabbed his flexed pecs and started to rub. He relaxed them for my inspection. They were firm and wide and impossibly thick. I measured their size with my hands. They were heavy and dense. I lifted them up and let them drop back to his chest. They bounced slightly. Occasionally he would flex, and the flesh would transform into granite before relaxing again. As I continued my rough pec massage, more precum appeared at the slit of his cock. I groped him more firmly, and he threw back his head. I squeezed even harder, and he writhed with pleasure and kissed me deeply and urgently. My hands like a vice on his pecs. My rough thumbs found his nipples, and he roared. He unzipped my pants and extracted my cock. I had not yet adjusted to my increase in size, and when I looked down at myself, I gasped. Lucky was right -- I was a monster down there. It was huge and imposing, throbbing and red. We were still kissing when his hand wrapped around it. The kiss suddenly broke. “Fuck! You are huge.” He pulled free from our embrace and dropped down to his knees. “Fuckin’ goddamn. That is a big fuckin’ dick… Fuck!” Then he dove on my hardon and started to suck. God, he was good. He used all of his mouth and both of his hands. He sucked away with abandon and deep throated me to the base. I was spit-slicked to the pubes, and the front of my pants was covered in a mixture of precum and saliva. My balls were starting to tingle, but I wanted to last longer. Reluctantly, I extracted my dick from his mouth. I pulled him up to my mouth, and he kissed me. His mouth was pure magic. He kissed as well as he sucked, and my hands explored his big body while he sucked on my neck and my jaw. I refocused my attention on his huge pecs. He clearly enjoyed the attention as much as I enjoyed giving it. I started really working them over, squeezing them hard when relaxed and pounding them hard with my fists when he flexed. He tightened his grip on our cocks. He jacked with more urgency now. His breathing grew ragged, and I knew he was close. As his balls pulled up, I grabbed hold of his nipples and twisted them roughly. He bellowed, and started to blow. It was quite an explosion. The first shot painted my shoulder and cheek, and the second one went even higher. The next shot was a relative dribble, but the fourth, fifth, sixth and tenth landed half way across the room. He started to falter, just as I started to blow a seemingly unending fountain of thick, white lava. He dropped to his knees and swallowed my still-pumping dick, using every last ounce of his will to milk me dry as a bone. Afterward, we collapsed to the bed and both briefly enjoyed the deep sleep of complete satisfaction. I woke to him leaving. I was passed out on my back, still dressed in my suit. I reached in my pocket and pulled out my wallet. He had worked for 4 hours. I paid him for 8. He raised an eyebrow to question the amount. “Tips and extras," I reassured. "You do beautiful work. I hope you’ll come back sometime and work in the garden again.” He smiled as he left and said, “Fuck, I love sucking cock.”
  45. 14 points
    Six “That fucking prick, Nick!” That’s about the fifth time Tony has said that. Nick (my other oldest school friend and one-third of the self-named Three Musketeers) refused to come out drinking because, like me, he has to work tomorrow. “But YOU, you fucking legend!” Tony shouts as he grabs my shoulders with both hands, before the mad cunt tries to jump on top of me as we’re walking up a busy, rowdy North Street. “Fuckin’ hell, Tone,” I say, laughing. It’s been nice to see Tony. It’s felt like old times for the most part. But there's also been times where it’s felt like something is different. Like a piece of the puzzle that makes up our friendship has gotten lost. Like something’s shifted or changed. Maybe it’s just me who’s changed. “JEEEZUS!” some random lad shouts as he walks towards me with a group. “Look at the biceps on THAT!” Tony looks at me and grins. “Lads!” I say with a nod, as they walk up to me. The guy grabs my right arm and starts slapping and squeezing it. “Fucking JACKED! Respect, mate!” he says. Then he starts hitting jokey most musculars as he walks off. “DEANO!” Tony says, with his arms outstretched as we get to the top of the street. “You’re more wasted than I am!” I say, laughing. “DEAN-O-OH! DEAN-O-OH!” he started chanting loudly. This is just typical Tony. He’s like this when he’s sober too. He gives me a big man hug and says goodbye. As I watch him stumble towards the train station, I feel this unexpected sense of relief. A group of girls walk past me, looking at me, smiling and giggling. But I don’t smile back. One of the girls wolf whistles and they stumble off, laughing. I’m feeling pretty fucking hammered. I’ve drank multiple shots and pints, plus whatever that shit was of dad’s I drank back at the house. A buzz is going through my body. Drunk people are around me. It’s half-past eleven. I have work tomorrow. I should keep walking straight. I’ll be home in twenty minutes. “Oggy oggy oggy. Oi oi oi!” My chest fills up. A mix of adrenaline and nerves surges through me. I make sure Tony’s out of sight, then I turn around, walk back down North Street and head in the direction of the pier. This part of town feels so different at night. I’m more pissed than I was when I was here at the weekend. A lot more pissed. I can see the entrance to that club I walked past on Saturday night, after Josh pissed me off and I walked out on him and his mates. I can see the bouncers. And people standing around outside. More people than last time. What am I doing here? Fucking hell. I’m so drunk. But I’m so determined. I don’t know what’s going to happen when I get to the door of that club. When I get to those bouncers. I don’t know what the fuck’s going to happen for the rest of this night. I’m slowing down. The bouncer clocks me. A beefy bald fella. He’s taller than me and he’s pretty big, but he’s no bodybuilder. His eyes widen when he sees me. But I keep it cool. I keep walking towards the entrance. Pissed. Determined. Nervous. Kind of excited. But all the time still wondering - what the fuck am I doing here? The bouncer nods and gives me a little, ominous smile. And suddenly I’m in. And I’m walking up some stairs. I can hear the music. Feel the bass. Some lads walk passed me. Both slim. Pretty boys. Nothing like me. They shoot each other weird judgemental looks at the sight of me. WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING HERE? And when I walk into the club area and head towards the bar, that question keeps going round in my head. Because I don’t fit in here. I don’t belong. The music. The people. It’s not my world. And yet, there’s something keeping me here. There’s something that makes me want to stay. I’m standing by the bar and Jesus - people are looking. No - people are staring. Properly fucking staring. Less subtle than they do in straight places. Fuck knows what they’re thinking. What’s he doing in here? Does he know it’s a gay club? He’s so big. That’s gross. He must be on roids. But maybe some of them are having other kinds of thoughts. I order a vodka and coke. The barman looks as equally surprised to see me as the bouncer did but there’s a little smirk on his face. And a glint in his eyes. He’s a good looking lad, but I don’t really feel anything beyond that. After all, I see good looking lads all the time. Every day at uni. And every day at my dad’s gym. I feel kind of safe standing at the bar. But when my drink arrives, I have no excuse to be here, so I start to walk, and as people are staring at me again, the feeling that I don’t belong here, in this world, intensifies. And then I hear it. Someone shouts, “Steroids!” in a stupid, loud voice and FUCK this shit. I walk away from the bar and dancefloor and into a corridor to get the hell out of here and suddenly some stupidly tall guy in a V neck white t-shirt is standing right in front of me. “WOAH!” he says, scanning me up and down. He’s not a bodybuilder, but he’s pretty beefy. He’s good looking too. I’m guessing late twenties. Maybe even older. “Hello!” he says to me, his mouth curling into a smirk. This surprised, kind of excited smirk. Like he can’t believe what’s standing in front of him. “Alright!” And oh my God. The way he’s looking at me. I don’t think any guy has ever looked at me like this before. Like he wants me. Maybe one guy once before. When we were sitting on his bed in just our posing trunks and he apparently got caught up in a moment. My chest tightens. The guy’s leaning into me and asking me what my name is. His face is close to mine. And now his hand is on my waist. And his lips are coming towards mine. And fucking hell. I’m kissing him. I’m kissing this ridiculously tall guy who’s kind of good looking and whose mouth tastes like beer and whose pressing his groin against mine. And it’s happening. And it’s a moment. But I’m kind of freaking out. Because I don’t think it’s a moment I want to be happening. Not here. In this world where I don’t belong. Not with this guy. This ridiculously tall guy whose mouth tastes like beer. We part lips and he’s smirking at me. “Fuck!” he says, his face lighting up. He’s keen. So, so keen. “Back in a sec,” I tell him. Something flickers in his expression. “Okay!” he says, nodding. But I can see he’s disappointed. Maybe he knows. Maybe he can sense what I’m about to do. I turn the corner, leave my glass on the floor, walk down the stairs and leave the club. For a second I feel perfectly fine when I wake up in my bed a few hours later. And then it suddenly hits me. My head throbs. And my stomach is suddenly churning. Fuck. I jump out of bed, rush to the bathroom and throw up in the sink. And now I’m perched on the edge of the bath clutching the sink and hoping I don’t throw up again. A horrible sick taste in my mouth. Jesus. It's been ages since I've felt this bad after drinking. “What the FUCK?!” Oh shit. I look up. My dad’s standing in the doorway of the bathroom. Looking scary as fuck in his navy blue dressing gown. Staring at me in disbelief. “You bloody idiot!” he says, shaking his head. He’s not shouting, presumably because it’s the middle of the night and he doesn't want to wake Josh up. I don’t say anything. I’m just gripping the sink. My head throbbing. “You are NOT bloody getting out of work tomorrow. I want you up in three hours!” I want to scream at him to fuck off. There is no fucking way I’m going to work tomorrow feeling like this. “Three hours, Deano. I mean it!” I go back to bed, but I barely sleep. I feel fucking awful. I know I’m not going to be able to work tomorrow. Not in the fucking state I’m in. But before I know it, my dad’s banging on my bedroom door shouting my name. I look at my phone. It’s seven-thirty. My head's still spinning. And I still feel fucking drunk. I ignore my dad and stay lying in bed, wishing for the whole world to just fuck off and die. And then my bedroom door opens and my dad is storming in. “Get up NOW! I’m not playing around, Deano!” And now’s he’s yanking at my duvet and pulling it off me and the bed. “I can’t. Dad - please!” “Fucking GET OUT OF BED!” he shouts. Then he whacks me hard across my shins. “In that shower now. I bloody warned you, Deano!” I know my dad’s not playing around. I get up and take a shower. I feel like I’m dying. I don’t know how I’m gonna get through a day of working at the gym feeling like this. I sit in my dad’s Land Rover, trying to ignore the fact that I feel sick. He’s not shouting any more, but I can tell he’s still pissed off at me. As we drive to the gym, I start to feel worse. My stomach feels like it’s being twisted from the inside. And then. Oh shit. “Dad!” He ignores me. “Dad - I think I’m gonna be sick!” “Oh for fuck - DO NOT BE SICK IN THIS CAR!” he shouts. It's the last thing I want to do, but I don’t think I can stop it. My dad parks in a lay-by and I get out, run to a black bin in the street and throw up behind it. I get back in my dad’s car. My mouth tastes like sick. My hands smells like sick. My head is still throbbing. I just want to crawl back into bed and curl up into a ball until this feeling comes to a stop. My dad sighs and shakes his head. “Fuck’s sake, Deano!” he says calmly. I lean my head back on the headrest and close my eyes. Wishing for this feeling to stop. I actually feel like I might start crying. “I’m sorry!” I say. My dad sighs again. “Couldn’t you have just waited one more night to go out? You couldn’t get away with this shit if you had a proper job.” My dad starts up the car. “You can’t work at the gym like this,” he says in a kinder tone. I feel relieved. But it doesn’t make me feel any less like shit. At least my dad’s not shouting any more. “You’re working at that expo next weekend with Big Steve!” he says sternly. “Okay,” I say, leaning back again, my eyes closed. Praying I manage to get home without needing to be sick again. “And you’re going out with Josh and your mum.” I open my eyes and look at him. “What?!” He looks at me sternly. I tip my head back and close my eyes again. “You can’t make me,” I say, stubbornly. “I BLOODY CAN!” he barks. Then he breathes a deep sigh. “Just one afternoon, Deano. You can’t stay mad at her forever. She’s your mum!” “She’s a shit mum,” I mumble. “OI!” my dad shouts. But then he gives me this sympathetic look. “She’s still your mum!” I go straight back to bed when my dad drops me home. But I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about what happened last night. Seeing that picture of Woody and Luke on Instagram. Necking dad’s bottle. Going to that club. Where I didn’t belong. Kissing that guy. That strong feeling that it wasn’t what I wanted. God - I wish I’d never fucking gone. I wish I could rewind time and just redo the whole night. Not check Instagram. Not go out. Not stumble into that gay club and end of kissing someone who wasn’t Sebastian Wood. Kissing a guy who can’t compare to him. And a kiss which can’t compare to when I kissed him on his bed and we were both just wearing our posing trunks. My shoulder against his. His tongue in my mouth. The smell of him. His hard, pumped mass on mine. Pecs on pecs. Abs pressed together. How I felt like I was going to explode in my velvet posing trunks at any moment. How it felt like my insides were on fire. No one’s ever made me feel that way before. And they certainly haven’t since. Maybe no ever will.
  46. 14 points
    The Massive Growth of Dwight by Lorus DAY 1: The pill was called “Enerflex”; I was its inventor (the result of four years exhaustive research), and Dwight answered my magazine ad. I was looking for a human test subject, but the pill's effects would be augmented by the subject’s sheer desire to grow. For example, if a 140 lb geek wanted to bulk up to 175 lbs of lean muscle mass, the effects of the pill would only allow him to gain 35 lbs of muscle. But when Dwight stepped into my unorthodox little lab and met me for the first time, I could tell by the look in his attractive eyes that his desire and hunger for muscle was greater than anything I could previously have hoped for. He said simply: "Can you make me HUGE?" "Yes," I replied, and I must admit to getting a little turned on by the way the slender dark-haired twenty-something placed a tone of emphasis on the word "HUGE". Fortunately my lab coat hid the spot of precum that quickly appeared in the crotch of my corduroys. Dwight was a handsome man of mixed Asian and Caucasian blood (and I couldn’t have asked for a more suitable muscle-aspirant), but at 5'4" and a meagre 130 lbs, he felt that life and genetics had cut him a raw deal. I would change that. I started by taking some blood and tissue samples. I quickly analysed the samples to make sure I had a complete breakdown of his body's chemistry before we began. That was stage one. Stage two involved an injection that would "polarise" muscle cells into bonding 300 % more efficiently with glycogen molecules. The injection filled Dwight with a warming sensation. Stage three was the magic pill I'd invented. I'd showed Dwight the dormouse I'd transformed into a super-rodent the size of a cat. The beastie seemed happy enough, and was quite healthy after the treatment. There were three different strengths of pill dosage: green was moderate growth strength, red was medium to high growth strength, and purple was.... “Lemme guess,” my new subject blurted out, making a swipe for the purple pill, “this was the one you gave to the mouse, yeah?” Dwight popped it into his mouth and enthusiastically dry-swallowed the thing. “Er... actually... the mouse was administered a green strength dose proportionate to its size and weight,” I explained, somewhat bemused by Dwight’s enthusiasm to see this process set in motion. I must admit to having a morbid fascination with what was about to happen in my esoteric lab. “You should take your clothes off and change into a clinical robe,” I suggested, but he paid me no heed. He was wearing a Levi's denim shirt and jeans, both of which fitted him somewhat sloppily. That was about to change. “No way, I want to feel seams splitting, threads, snapping.... buttons popping,” Dwight arrogantly replied. I could feel my cock swelling inside my pants, my head suddenly awash with that feeling we all get when we’re seriously turned-on. And why not? At thirty-five I was many decades removed from your typical image of an aging Hollywood horror-movie mad scientist. “Please come into the next room,” I urged, and led my test subject into an adjoining chamber better suited to what he was about to become. It was a weight room, a private underground gym where we could accurately test his strength as soon as his transformation was complete. And it was there, surrounded by the latest tech muscle equipment, that Dwight began to “fill out”. “How do you feel?” I asked, scribbling frenetically with a pencil onto a chart attached to a clipboard. I was also video-taping the event for analysis later (and lots of furious jacking off). “I feel great,” Dwight snarled, “like I’ve just been rejuvenated. I want to work out so badly, Doc.” “Well time aplenty for that in a few minutes,” I nodded, still jotting down data onto my clipboard. Dwight started to sway a little, staggering on his feet. The process had started. And the growth was nothing short of.....incredible. His shirt and jeans suddenly became quite snug on his frame, denim fabric stretching tolerably as his body began increasing in height and mass. I stopped writing to observe the spectacle, my cock beginning to throb uncomfortably inside my pants. I really had no idea how big he would become, but I wanted to enjoy every metamorphic moment. “Aw yeah.... look at me.... I’m... I’m getting bigger, aw fuck,” Dwight cried, and his energy and enthusiasm had become contagious. He loosened his shirt collar just as the first button popped on the shirt, revealing delicious tanned flesh and the beginnings of a cleft between his burgeoning pec-meats. Dwight growled with delight as he felt the muscle-tits he was growing pushing outwards, forcing the shirt buttons to spawn gaps between them, again revealing more of his beautiful skin. “This is amazing,” he declared, raising both of his arms to flex biceps that were swelling up faster and faster with each passing second. Another button pinged off his shirt with force enough to fly across the room. It struck me on my left cheek and for a moment I was startled. He grew bolder and hungrier for muscle as the growth process accelerated. Dwight’s shirt seams split apart at each armpit, freeing his muscles somewhat, and giving them more space to grow. He growled, infuriated and amazed at how much stronger he was becoming. He flexed his balling biceps a few times and completely shredded the sleeves of the shirt. His forearms thickened into super-muscular hocks striated by ever-thickening networks of hyper-masculine veins. He made fists with both hands and instantly his forearms tripled in thickness, turning the rest of the sleeves into denim confetti. The last of his shirt buttons popped free of the shirt, and with a mighty shrug he hefted off the shirt as his body grew further. It was as if someone had taken a compressed air pump to his muscles and set the dial to max. Dwight’s chest had become two heaving masses of striated beef, the sweat caused by his body’s transformation making his brand new bodybuilding bosoms glisten and reflect light with such masculine distinction. As they grew, so the cleavage between became deep and dark. Below his ballooning muscle-chest, a cobblestone brick path was set into Dwight's abdomen, as lesser muscle-bellies, eight in all, pushed out and became diamond-hard and defined. But the top pair were quickly drowned over by the ever-expanding under-swell of each augmenting pec-belly. The pecs cast deep crescent-shaped shadows over his abs wall, and I wondered if Dwight’s chest would ever stop growing. Likewise his lats were expanding at an incredible rate. Never again would he be able to get his arms to hang straight down and parallel to his torso; his lats would ensure that he’d forever have that “arms akimbo” look that most bodybuilders like to show off. “How do you feel?” I again asked. I was now sweating along with Dwight, and hornier than I’d ever been in my life. I added: “If the growth becomes too much for you, I can administer a counter-agent to negate the effects of the pill.” “No way, Doc. I’m not done growing yet, not by a long shot,” Dwight growled. It was so true... within a minute he’d gone from a 130 lb weakling to the size of a heavyweight competitive bodybuilder. He’d grown in height, too. At this stage I guessed him to be close to 6’. Dwight’s legs were transforming amazingly, too. His jeans had become painfully tight, but he seemed not to mind. The buttons of his fly were straining to keep it together, but as I’d observed with the dormouse, massive expansion of genitalia was also an effect of the pill. Just as Dwight’s burgeoning thighs, hamstrings and calves rendered his jeans a tattered mess of denim, so too did his cock and balls expand, so that metal buttons popped in several directions at once. Now that Dwight was free of the denim, only a black spandex jockstrap concealed his total nudity. Already the jock was working overtime to contain his meat within. Would it hold? It was too early to say. Dwight’s bones cracked and shifted as his body created new space on which to sprout bigger and bigger muscles. After five minutes he was larger than Jay Cutler... and astonishingly he was STILL growing. Dwight just kept getting bigger and bigger. “You’re huge now,” I gawped, not quite fully believing how much of a success this was becoming. “Never.... I can never be huge enough,” he bellowed, and a sexy smirk washed across his gorgeous face. Not only had the pill enhanced his height, weight and muscles, but just about every aspect of what it means to be a man was also expanded on. Dwight had gone from handsome to downright beautiful. Stubble formed on his chin and neck, and thick, dark pubic hair – where he had a little before – had now thickened across his armpits and crotch. The jock was now framed in hair, and still the genitals thickened and lengthened almost obscenely. Dwight could now pull off any bodybuilder’s pose with great finesse. He bounced his pecs repeatedly, rhythmically, and I could almost hear the skin stretching and groaning in despair as it tried not to split beneath the great weight of his chest’s new monstrous muscles. There were stretch marks all over his body as he continued to put on weight. Dwight’s muscle-growth was astonishing. He now flexed ball biceps the size of melons. But I knew he still wanted them bigger.... way bigger. He crabbed down into a most-muscular pose and his muscles heaved and flexed bigger still. More and more veins, some as thick as my pinkie, popped out of Dwight’s skin, looking like the skin had been laid down first and the veins added on top as an afterthought. His definition, proportion, and symmetry were all off the charts. I’d created the biggest bodybuilder alive, but he still wasn’t done growing. Eventually the process began to slow down, much to Dwight’s annoyance. “How do you feel now?” I again inquired. “I feel great. But I want to be bigger, Doc. I NEED to get fucking bigger. I wanna overdose on those purple pills,” he growled determinedly, his voice now deeper and incredibly sexy and masculine. “One thing at a time. You’re STILL getting bigger. We need to be careful about this. Step on the scale, please.” Dwight obligingly muscle-strutted over to the scale, his beefy tree trunk thighs now made walking a bit of a waddle and a chore (like how some bodybuilders get so pumped for a contest that walking off the stage can be a hazard). I could now gaze at the shocking sprawl of the most muscular back I’d ever seen, tapering down to a tiny wasp-like waist, before the most muscular bubble-but in all of creation was framed perfectly by the straining straps of a jock that had become way too tight. Dwight’s glutes were so defined, they were almost an ass on top of an ass, and his hamstrings and calves were astonishing. As he walked, his feet finally annihilated his sneakers, and when he stepped on the scale it read: “467 lbs” “Whoa.... that’s a big number. Bigger than two pro bodybuilders rolled into one,” Dwight exclaimed, and he had to stoop and strain to lean forward enough to read the number on the dial because his pecs were now way too large and obstructed his vision. He’d never be able to see his feet again just by looking down at them. Such a thought excited Dwight and made him want to get bigger. But Dwight was STILL getting bigger. Ten seconds passed, and the readout on the scale changed from “467 lbs” to “486 lbs”. He was gaining about two pounds of muscle every second. I hastily scribbled this down on my clipboard. Astonishing results. He flexed his muscles some more as they became bigger and harder, deftly pulling off each pose in such a controlled and expert fashion. His biceps had swollen to mountainous proportions, and he’d never be able to wear a tee-shirt again, or any kind of shirt for that matter, without having them tailor-made. Laser scanners strategically placed around the gym recorded the bodybuilder’s measurements, but they couldn’t keep up with the rate of such astonishing growth. Dwight’s neck was now 25 inches around, his chest a cold 90 inches, but he could expand it to 108 inches when flexed. His flexed biceps clocked 28 inches, but he needed them to get bigger. And so they grew even further. The more Dwight flexed them, the more they expanded. It took a further two minutes for his biceps to settle at 35 inches, one whole inch wider... (gasp)... than the circumference of his diminutive waist. His forearms were 28 inches (wider than my legs), and his thighs a staggering 46 inches each. But these numbers kept increasing, and the scanners shorted out. I would have to deal with them later. “The experiment is a huge success,” I beamed, wishing I could worship every inch of Dwight’s new muscles with my tongue and groping fingers. I guess I had more than just the interest of advancing the science of health and nutrition in sport on my mind when I devised this program. Dwight towered above me now, 6’ 8” in height. The growth finally stabilised. But he still had that look in his eye, and I could tell from it that he wanted more. “You should rest for a while, and then later we can get you to work out on the weight machines.... see how strong you’ve become.” “Cool,” Dwight replied, bouncing and heaving his massive pecs in front of me. His cock and balls had swollen to gargantuan proportions, and the jock just about held (to my annoyance). “But then you’d better consider giving me more of those pills, Doc. This will do for now, but I want to get REALLY huge.” I would consider granting his request. *** I wasn't at all surprised that with the wondrous cocktail of chemicals that comprised Enerflex now rewriting his hypothalamic and endocrinatic production levels, that Dwight was fully rested after just ten minutes. In the time I'd given him to get refreshed and ready for the next stage of his incredible improvement, he'd packed on even more muscle. I didn’t think that after a day like this I'd be able to get my eyes back to their normal size. Naked as a new-born (yeah, a new-born god), Dwight strutted back into the weight room and flexed his even larger muscles. He'd become cocky to a fault, and I liked it immensely. "Where d'ya want me, Doc?" he eyed up each weight machine with all the enthusiasm of a kid in a candy store. He'd never been inside a gym in his life, and although this was entirely a new set of experiences for him, he took to it all like a duckling to water. "Why not set yourself up on the bench press and we'll get you started with a warm-up weight of, hmmm, say five hundred on the bar... for ten reps? How does that sound?" I couldn't take my eyes off this huge muscle god, but I occasionally had to in order to record data on my clipboard. “That seems kinda light, Doc," Dwight cockily exclaimed, and brought his closed, white-knuckled fists high up over his head. He grunted as he flexed massive, granite peaks into existence, his body continuing to erupt with vast expulsions of super-strong muscle. His skin became very taut and his veins thickened and bored out of his epidermal layer with greater abundance and vascularity than before. He smiled broadly, arrogantly, dominating my entire field of vision as his muscles bulged more hugely yet. It almost seemed that he knew what his new body was capable of before he'd even started it on its first test drive, so to speak. He began loading up the bar with plate after plate, each one 45lbs heavy. I counted ten on each end of the bar. 900lbs. The bar began to sag. "Are you sure about this, Mr Dwight? This is only a warm-up exercise. That amount of weight seems rath---" " I'll decide what I can and can't handle," he snapped, brusquely butting in before I could finish my sentence. I allowed him to proceed. He was excited and curious. We both were. “And cut out the “Mr Dwight” from now on. I’m “Huge Muscle God”. He bounced his pecs several times before assuming the crab pose favoured by so many bodybuilders. The crab pose soon became the most muscular pose, and I almost fainted when his body erupted into an even vaster landscape of incredible, ripped muscle mass. His skin grew even tauter, and I feared he was about to blow himself to smithereens at any second as his muscles heaved and bulged and grew thicker, harder, more striated. I imagined he could hide several pocketfuls of loose change in those striations and the money would never be seen again. He was now off-the-scale-massive. He assumed the correct position on the bench, his gargantuan torso just about able to fit beneath the bar where it sat on its upright struts. He gripped the bar like a pro and jerked it off its supports. He grunted as he took the strain. At first I thought the bar would collapse on him, snapping his neck like a sun dried reed, but Dwight surprised me as he played with the weight a little until it felt comfortable in his mighty grasp. He started to press the enormous weight. He did ten reps, twenty, fifty......ONE HUNDRED reps without breaking a sweat. After I'd lost count of his reps, he returned the bar to its rests and sat up on the bench. The one hundred plus reps had swollen his muscles to even greater proportions. He punched his fists together, and there was a loud "snapping" noise, but fortunately he hadn't broken any bones. "Is there something the matter?" I was eager to ensure that his every need would be met as we got further into this experiment. Dwight mopped a solitary bead of sweat from his right temple and then looked me squarely in the eye. "The weight's too light, doc. Feels like I'm pressing toothpicks." "But your chest looks like it got a good pump there," I offered by way of a compliment. I really wanted to please this young man. Hell, I wanted to be his sex slave until the end of time. "Huh," he snorted, and bounced his enormous tit muscles vigorously until they became massively pumped and striated. He was still getting bigger and bigger. It was phenomenal to observe. Then he brought his arms up on either side of his head and forced out gigantic peaked mounds of massive muscle. His biceps were way bigger than his head, now, and still growing and getting harder and more powerful. I really wondered if there would be any limit to his mega-growth. The scanners in the lab monitored his vitals as well as took measurements. His blood pressure was slightly elevated, but not unexpected. There was also some increased neural activity in his hypothalamus as well as the pituitary gland, but all of that was also to be expected. Apart from that his body was in sound condition, and there were no nasty side effects from the pill to have to deal with later. I hoped this would remain the case. Dwight went from machine to machine. He performed leg presses, squats, lateral raises, concentration curls with free-weights.... every range of muscle-building exercise at his disposal via the provided equipment he indulged in. He set all the machines to maximum and still the outcome was the same each time. They were all too light. He was way too strong for the monitoring of this experiment to continue unless I took some drastic action. I would have to make some phone calls. This experiment was privately funded by a publicity-shy billionaire, Lord Edmund Dunwith, who was difficult to deal with at the best of times. Last time I'd asked him for more money, he'd demanded more results than what I could provide with a dormouse. "Could you step back on the scales for me please?" Dwight didn't have to be told twice. Although his muscle-growth had slowed compared with his rate of hypertrophy towards the beginning of the experiment, he’d still increased his muscle-mass by a couple of hundred pounds since his first weigh-in just a short while ago. The scale now read: “765 lbs”. He had also grown to almost seven feet in height. I craved to know his muscle measurements now, but I’d have to fix the scanner later. For now only his vital signs could be monitored. He was now a giant amongst bodybuilders. “The growth seems to be stopping, er… Huge Muscle God. We should reconvene tomorrow. We have lodgings you can avail of here at the facility, or would you like a ride back to your place of residence?” I wanted to worship him, to feel my tongue trace so many hungry wet lines across his incredible topography, but I daren’t question his sexual orientation. For all I knew he could have a harem of sexy women waiting for him at home. I wanted to get to know him, but small talk regarding his personal life would have to wait until we understood each other better. There were weeks of tests ahead of him yet. “Thanks for the offer of the ride, but it’s a warm, sunny evening. Think I’ll muscle-strut my way across town under my own power, Doc,” Dwight beamed, shooting pose after pose in front of a mirror. His cock had become a massive girder of steel and he seemed proud that it looked incapable of becoming flaccid again. “Well you’ll be arrested if you go out like that,” I advised somewhat comically, “there are some clothes in the next room if you’d like to try them on. My colleagues and I, that is to say, those with a vested interest in the success of this program, sought to anticipate all of the needs of the human subject, including a basic wardrobe. However, considering how well you took to the Enerflex’s effects, the garments we have for you might be a little on the tight side.” “Heheh, I hope so. I’m also starving after all those weights, light though they were. Have you anything to eat here?” There was a loud gurgling noise which almost brought plaster down from the ceiling. It could only have been Dwight’s stomach growling. “Erm... yes. Just me here today, so there are some sandwiches I brought from home in that small cooler over there, and a carton of milk. There might be some potato chips belonging to the night watchman somewhere,” I gestured towards a small partitioned area in one corner of the room. Dwight found the food and wolfed down my four pastrami-on-ryes in less than a minute. He was through the milk in one swift gulp. But he was still hungry. I had not observed this effect in the dormouse, although it was eating the same amounts more regularly than before it was changed. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but right now I was too horny, too amazed, by Dwight’s transformation, to want to eat. My erection had subsided somewhat, but when Dwight emitted the loudest belch ever produced by a mammal other than a whale, junior was back to a standing position in my pants. I had to admit that the cute milk moustache on such a behemoth of a bodybuilder was quite endearing. The food placated his appetite enough for the stomach gurgles to stop. Then I showed him where to get dressed. There wasn’t much to choose from. The clothes were mainly a polyester and lycra mix, with just enough nylon, spandex and elastic to ensure he’d be able to get home without returning to his birthday suit and causing major car accidents on the way. Still though, the light purple Henley shirt clung to him like a second skin and only came down just an inch or two below his bulging pec-line, leaving his mammoth, granite ab-wall exposed for all to see. Likewise the stretch jeans were loose at his waist but way too tight at the widest part of his sequoia thighs. I ended up having to take scissors to them and turn them into three-quarter length cut-offs. None of the sneakers provided would fit his monstrous size 22 feet, but luckily we found a pair of flip-flops with an NBA logo on them. Made for a basketball player, they would at least get him home. He ogled himself in the mirror, posing some more and sniggering impishly as he tried to snap threads and rip seams. One thing I really needed to know: "How will you explain this transformation to your family, your friends... your employers?" "Not a problem. My friends are all assholes and scene queens, not worth my time. My family is three thousand miles away and they haven't seen me in two years. And right now I don't have a job. I have plenty of time to grow and worry about explaining it all later." I was satisfied with his answer. Then he asked: “What about my money, Doc?” “Ah yes. It’ll have to be a cheque, Dwight. We don’t keep cash on the premises,” I reached inside my lab coat and took out a cheque book. The sum of $1,500 dollars was already printed on it. I just had to make the cheque payable to Dwight, now the world’s most muscular bodybuilder. I’d developed a crick in my neck from looking up at him. He was magnificent. “Good enough. I’m behind in my rent. This’ll do nicely. And there are five more of these to come, according to the ad?” “Yes, of course. That is the promise. And you also get to keep your incredible new body. The effects of Enerflex are, of course, totally permanent.” “That’s what I like to hear, Doc. See you tomorrow then.” Dwight, now cocky and full of himself, bounced his spectacular pectorals inside his shirt and almost pinged more buttons off it like pellets from a BB gun. Was he still growing? I hoped he’d make it home without alerting the police. He was just about adequately covered, the bulge in his jeans crotch not too evident despite the size of his manhood, so he wouldn’t be breaking the state nudity laws. But he was now the biggest most muscular man on the planet, so I worried about how the public might react. I finally released my cock after he left for the evening, and as I watched via CCTV his massive frame depart this esoteric little facility, I could hold my spunk in not a second longer. As my crème spewed forth in vigorous gouts, I saw on the camera screen that by the time Dwight had reached the outside of the building, his magnificent bodybuilder’s body had burst out of the Henley. And it was like this, stripped to his impeccably taut waist, that Dwight stepped back into general life as a god amongst insects. I had work to do that evening. The scanners needed repairing and I had a lot of data to compile. Lord Dunwith, who funded this operation, would have to be informed. We needed better equipment here with which to accurately gauge everything that Dwight was capable of. If it could all be flown in and installed overnight, then so much the better. Everything would be ready for Dwight when he returned tomorrow. But before I took care of all this vital business, I played back recorded footage of his incredible muscle-growth. I lost track of time as I came over and over. I could only dream of what tomorrow would bring. DAY 2: My apartment is only a couple of blocks from the secret location of the research lab I'd worked at for the past four years in my endeavour to unlock superhuman potential in young males. For security reasons I cannot divulge the location, except to say that it's entrance is secret and looks nothing like what you'd expect a laboratory to look like. We provided a phone number in our ad we'd placed in several men's interest magazines. We needed someone young and fit, and who met the blood type "O+". Dwight was our first applicant, but we had others lined up for enhancement should the initial trials with Dwight prove successful. After day one my expectations were quite high, not to mention my sex drive. I'd known I was gay for twenty years, but with a Baptist minister for a father and a school teacher mother (as well as growing up in a small town in which you were considered abnormal if you weren't shy and retiring from the age of ten onwards), I'd never opened up to them about my sexuality, opting instead to bury myself in the toils of academia for as long as it would take to get to where I needed to be to consider myself successful. I was still a virgin at thirty-five, something I was entirely ashamed of. My fantasy had always been to make the most muscular man on earth an absolute reality. And I had succeeded. Now if only I could make a gay one, why, my greatest fantasies would become a reality. Anyway, the night watchman couldn't make his shift due to a death in the family, the poor guy. I decided to hang around and sleep at the lab, given that someone needed to be here when Lord Dunwith's team of re-fitters arrived to cater to my every need, or rather Dwight's. They worked through the night resupplying our secret little gym with an entirely new suite of workout equipment. I'd also had a proper pantry installed and stocked up with more foodstuffs than you can shake a fork at. There would even be some tailors brought in and sworn to secrecy in the effort to ensure that Dwight was as clothed as we could maintain him at all times. All of this was achieved via many phone calls and supplicant pleas to Lord Dunwith, who eventually agreed to extend my funding. I had achieved so much in just one day. I don't even remember falling asleep on the small but relatively comfortable cot provided in a small room off the main lab proper. I was awakened by Francisco, my lab assistant, at an unknown hour. The look on his face was a mixture of excitement and astonishment. I recognised it immediately, the look of someone having witnessed something so extraordinary and unprecedented, that his mind struggled to accept it without collapsing in on itself. "It works.... the Enerflex, John. Madre Mia," he was still shaking me awake even as I swung my legs to the floor. I craved a hot shower and a change of clothes. "What time is it? Dwight, he's back isn't he!" I knew the answer before hearing it. Francisco had obviously seen Dwight in the flesh, as I'd changed the passwords to the computers in case one or more of the refit team happened to get access to something they shouldn’t, and I hadn't told Francisco what it was. All of the footage I'd shot of Dwight was stored in the computers. "He.... he's monstrous, John. But I think something is not quite right." I suddenly became a mirror for the look of consternation that suddenly washed across Francisco's face. I dry swallowed nervously. What could possibly have gone wrong since Dwight's departure that previous evening? I decided to waste no time in finding out. I rushed out of the room and past some of the astonished workmen who were still putting the finishing touches to what was nothing short of a miraculous refit, considering the short time in which they'd been given to work their magic. I heard noisy rummaging coming from the newly upgraded pantry area, which, like everything else in our esoteric little setup, was now fitted with extra-tall, extra-wide, swinging double doors. As I moved towards the pantry/canteen (call it what you will), Dwight was already returning from within. He had to stoop to get through the doors, despite that they had been refitted to be seven feet tall. He'd grown since leaving here the previous evening, and he'd grown a lot, but not in the way I’d expected. I'd gotten the scanners back working, and so no matter where he went in the test area, his measurements would once again be accurately recorded. The computer attempted to make sense of his current dimensions, which caused a flood of numerical data to ticker across every screen visible to us. "Hey Doc, as you can see, I've been doing some more growing," Dwight beamed, his words broken up by some rather noisy and messy chewing. He'd been into the pantry, an entire refrigerator held in the crook of his arm and dented inwards by the sheer strength of my subject Alpha. He was cramming cooked halves of chicken into his mouth and wolfing them down bones and all. And.... omg... he was GIGANTIC!!!!!! But where his height and musculature had once again augmented, albeit only slightly, his abdomen – where only yesterday evening it was a dense wall of ripped, cobbled steel – was now a huge bloated ball, like as if someone had stuck an air-hose down his throat and bloated up his belly to the vastness it had become. The scanners recorded its circumference at 114 inches around. That was impossible. How did he get like this? Was it a side effect of the Enerflex making itself apparent, something not observed in the dormouse on which I was still gathering data? “Whuh...what happened?” I stammered my words, my voice a mere croak, for my throat desperately required moisture. “You could say that I ‘gut’ me an appetite,” Dwight snorted, patting his massive belly with a thump so loud it almost burst my eardrums. Francisco was scurrying about in a panic, completely useless to me (note to self: hire a new lab assistant pronto). The workmen panicked and fled like roaches rushing away from a sudden splash of light. He lifted the fridge up so that it was level with his face, and then tipped the remainder of the food into his mouth in the same way that a normal mortal might tap out the little scraggly bits from the end of a food carton. Then he ever so effortlessly crushed the brand new fridge and tossed it over his shoulder as though it was a beer can. It was a fridge.... heavier and wider than I was tall. And he tossed it like it was just a few grams of aluminium. “I need to run some more tuh-tests,” I again stammered, and I was now scurrying about like Francisco. We must have looked like a right pair of clowns as we attempted to act like scientists, but only succeeded in mimicking a typical vaudeville comedy warm-up act. My clipboard... it contained the most recent notes I’d taken on Dwight. Could the workmen have moved it? “No need,” Dwight bellowed, his voice having deepened considerably since last we’d spoken. “I conducted some tests of my own last night when I got home, although I wouldn’t really call it home any more, considering I no longer fit into the place. Fuck it, I owed rent anyways. What’s my landlord gonna do, break my fingers if I don’t pay up?” “What... sort of tests?” My question was punctuated perfectly by the look of incredulity I felt washing across my face and pushing out wrinkles where before there weren’t any (well, not many, to put it mildly). “Watch this!” Dwight stepped further away from the pantry doors, as if to take centre-stage on a stage that didn’t exist. He opened his mouth as if to speak, or holler, or maybe to even sing. What emerged from him almost knocked Francisco and myself off our feet. Dwight belched. It was a belch louder than an air horn. We both covered our ears to protect our hearing. Dwight’s gaseous emission lasted for almost a minute. And as he expelled such foulness, we watched, in awe, as his massively bloated mid-section began to shrink and tighten. But not only that, this incredible and unforeseen physical response from him was causing his muscles to grow... to grow to even more incredible proportions. The scanners feverishly recorded his burgeoning dimensions, overclocking my precious computers in the process. His neck thickened from 25 inches to a colossal 36 inches. His traps pushed upwards by at least a thirty degree angle and actually compressed his ears slightly as they fought for more and more space in which to expand. His shoulders broadened by a couple of feet on either side, his deltoid masses expanding from triple-head forms into quadruple muscle-bellies, each one separated by striations so cut and so deep, they seemed to swallow light itself. All of his muscles became more cut in this way. And larger, too, so very much larger. His pectoral muscles had already been balloons of manly beef, jutting out for several feet and casting deep, dark crescent moons below the under-swell of each pec-belly. Now they bulged and rippled more hugely yet, spreading out in all directions like a pair of out-of-control space amoebae from an old science fiction movie. They expanded so far upwards that his head began to lean back, his chin almost pointing upwards. I worried about the pecs restricting his breathing as they pressed into his trachea. How would his body compensate for that? His nipples expanded and thickened, too, soon each one bigger and thicker than the tops of my thumbs. The areola moons around each nipple also increased in size, beyond the circumference of a coffee cup. How I longed to take one of those sensational man-nubs between my lips and suck and suck until I no longer had the strength. Scanners recorded his chest circumference now at a staggering 188 inches. And his chest, like the rest of him, was still getting bigger and bigger. “Aw yeah.... look at my fucking pecs, Doc. They’re so huge, but I want them fucking huger,” Dwight growled, and I didn’t much care for his potty mouth. I’d been raised to abhor profanity of any kind. But I guess these were the most unusual of circumstances. His arms also swelled monstrously, going from 68 inches around his biceps and triceps to a mind-blowing 87 inches. He flexed them to work more blood and Enerflex into them, and the scanners displayed 116 inches across those mammoth mountain ranges he had in place of arms. One of the computers stalled at this point. There was a small bang followed by a puff of smoke as one of the drives failed. Not to worry this time, I’d arranged for a cloud server to be installed in case of hardware failure. No way I would lose any data in that event. Your average pro-bodybuilder had a chest width of about 58-60 inches. Dwight’s upper arms alone more than doubled that number. His lats... omg... they swelled to the size of delta-wings, so huge and gorged on blood and Enerflex that his arms were pushed out even further from his sides. With his lats so huge did he even have sides anymore? As his belly continued to return to normal size (what was normal about him now, you ask?), so his muscles swelled huger and huger... larger than anything I could have imagined (or hoped for. Yes I was loving every second of this and didn’t want it to end). His giant redwood legs thickened and “huged-up”, too. His upper thighs – with quads and hamstrings separated by thick and deep cuts guaranteed to hide a small fortune in change – swelled to almost 200 inches apiece. He’d never be able to walk easily again, but the bodybuilder’s waddle is most definitely the sexiest way a man has ever been destined to move. His calves ballooned up to 120 inches. I couldn’t wait to see how much he could press on the newly installed leg press machine. The sound of bones cracking and repairing as they thickened and stretched throughout his incredible body, was almost as deafening as his mega-burp. But his body was growing in height once again, his entire frame filling out in order to better provide a foundation for his ever-increasing muscle-growth. When his “food belly” finally disappeared, it was replaced by those now-familiar cobblestone brickwork abs. They actually made a popping sound as they, one by one, popped out of his torso and took their place, two upon two upon two upon tw..... omg... he had ten of them now. His waist continued to tighten almost back to the waspish taper it had had only yesterday. The scanners recorded his waist measurement at 44 inches, which, compared with his chest seemed tiny, and he didn’t so much have that amazing V-taper that all bodybuilders strive to maximise, but it was like two “W”s side by side balancing on top of a single “V”. His growth finally stopped once again. He’d grown to almost eight feet in height. He had to be at least five and a half feet wide at the shoulders. He flexed a mesmerising double biceps pose and his body was almost carved up like a jigsaw via the array of veins that were squeezed out across his massive surfaces. His cuts became deeper and deeper, every muscle perfectly separated from its neighbours. He spread his lats and they fanned out wider, his ribcage was now double-jointed, so that he could expand it massively, which had the effect of pushing his hot-air balloon pecs even further upwards. His head had to lean back further to allow for his. The curvature of his upper pecs alone now completely hid his face and neck in this pose. His nipples took centre-stage, now, pert and plump and pointing out of each super-flexed pec. In the relaxed position they would now forever be hidden within the dark shadows cast by the under-swell of each muscle-tit. He relaxed from the lat spread and began to bounce his massive pec-bellies. Their movement beat at the very air itself, creating currents which he fanned towards me. I almost fell backwards from the force. When he did a most-muscular pose, this time the scanners shorted out again, unable to cope with the sheer size of this behemoth, as he squeezed out this most delicious pose, the one that made him look far huger than any other. His veins continued to bulge impossibly through skin so taut that it shone. He’d been wearing shorts when he came in, blue spandex ones (where he’d gotten them is beyond me). His cock and ball sack had also increased in size, but not enough to shred the shorts and render him naked once again. As his thighs increased in size, thanks to more and more flexing, so his manhood was pushed even further outward. His junk had no place to go but out. I could tell he was loving this experience due to the hefty precum staining taking place in his crotch. I could feel my own underwear moistening up, too. “Gotta get on the scale, doc. I need to see how much all this new muscle weighs. FUH..UCKKKK!!!!!” Dwight waddled over to the newly installed scale, one based on the type used to weigh livestock. It had a maximum weight tolerance of two tonnes. I hoped it would be enough. His massive thighs rubbed against each other as he moved, a walk that would be considered ridiculous-looking, had it been observed in anyone other than Hypertrophic Extreme God Dwight. Somehow this muscle giant made it look absolutely beautiful. The scale read: 1374.25 lbs. I saw the number. My tongue fell out of my mouth, lolling like that of a thirsty canine. Then everything began to spin around me before fading to black. Next thing I was aware of was Francisco reviving me with the offensive sting of smelling salts. “Huh-long was I out?” “Not long, just a few minutes,” Francisco replied. He disposed of the smelling salts. I was back on the cot in the little room I’d earlier slept in. "Where is he now," I asked in earnest. "Still in the weight room. He's lost to his posing. He wanted me to set up a camera and tripod to film his back while he poses. He needs to check the spread." Then Francisco added: "He ate all the food. Even a jar of mustard and the jalapeños I brought from home. I think he wants to get gassy again so he can grow some more." For the second time that morning (was it still morning?) I swung my legs to the floor. This time they felt shaky when I tried to stand. "We need to analyse all data, try to assess what went wrong. We need to take a blood sample from Dwight. There may be an unknown anomaly at work here. Did you see the size of his stomach when he arrived here? He must've been eating non stop since leaving here yesterday. Oh damn, I hope he wasn’t followed on his way here." I began to panic at the thought of our secret facility being discovered by a curious civilian, or even a street cop, who'd decided to follow our shirtless muscle giant in order to learn all they could about him. Thankfully Francisco was all too reassuring. "Lord Dunwith took care of that. He sent a vehicle to Dwight's address. No one saw him arrive." I went out to the refitted weight room and found my clipboard. I was so nervous that my hand scrawled shaky letters across the notepaper. Dwight had grown even bigger since I'd passed out. And why not? One of the key triggers or catalysts in the Enerflex compound depended on the recipient's brain releasing endorphins. If someone liked something enough, or even desired something hard enough, Enerflex would work so much more efficiently. In the case of Dwight, his desire to grow more and more masses of gigantic muscle acted as the catalyst necessary to boost the effects of Enerflex. It would appear that the drug had been set to overdrive in his system. But one dose lasted eight hours at most; that had been certainly true in the dormouse's case. But something within Dwight had perpetuated the lasting effects of a single pill. And his abnormal eating habits would have to be monitored closely. But for now: "You're probably wondering about the new weight machines," I said, for once managing to not stammer. Dwight barely paid me any attention, for he was still so engrossed in his posing. "Not really, doc. Except maybe... how easily I'm gonna bust them up with my incredible strength," the hyper-massive muscle man boasted. I found his remark moderately amusing. "This is no ordinary gym equipment, Dwight. There are no plates to screw onto bars, or pins to pull out of one stack of plates and slip into another. No levers or pulleys to adjust. It's all very high tech and works off the principal of magnetic resistance." His curiosity now piqued, Dwight turned to the NASA answer to a bench press. The setup was similar to a standard bench, except the bar worked off magnetic resistance. The mechanical components could be set to recreate any weight via incredibly powerful built-in electromagnets. "How shall I program it? One thousand pounds of resistance for a warm-up then?" I was toying with Dwight, and he knew it. "How high does it go?" I'd expected him to ask that. "Ten thousand pounds," I replied, fighting against yet another stammer. Dwight considered this for a moment. "Might still be a little light for me. But won’t know unless I give it a whirl." I felt one of my eyebrows peaking up like the way Mister Spock's would when he found something to be fascinating. Why not start him off on maximum settings? If they proved too much for him I could always lower the resistance at the push of a button. I did what Dwight wanted and when the machine was set, I gestured to him to assume the proper position on the bench. The machine activated as soon as he began to take the strain. Wait... did I say "strain"? There was no strain at all. With his breathing rhythmic and his sweat glands given the day off, Dwight began to press the bar upwards, methodically and repeatedly, despite ten thousand pounds of pressure pulling against his every exertion. He might as well have been pressing cotton swabs. It was astonishing to observe. He was hundreds of times stronger than I could ever have dreamed of. And he could only get stronger yet. Not even a single grunt emerged from him as he continued to work the weight. He showed no signs of tiring, or giving up. He seemed content to do this for as long as it provided him the pumps. "How do you feel?" My question came after 954 reps. Not a bead of sweat had appeared anywhere on his skin. "It's light, but I'm starting to feel the burn, doc. I reckon another 500 reps will give me the pump I need. But this needs to go higher," Dwight admitted. "I'm sorry, Dwight, but you are pushing the machine to its limit." It was true. There was a smell of ozone in the air, as electrical circuits and other components were pushed beyond their design tolerance. After his 1246th rep, the machine shorted out. To be honest, I'd expected it to break down long before that. He returned the bar to its rest, sat up on the bench and flexed his mammoth pectoral muscles. They were pumped to huge proportions, fresh networks of veins now throbbing out of the skin. His chin was now completely buried in the flesh of his upper pecs, especially when he looked downward. He licked the veins that had come out of the pecs and inhaled his bodybuilder's musk deeply, as if getting off to his size and power. "A half-decent pump. But it could be a lot better. You need to design more powerful machines for me, Doc." We repeated further tests on every other machine. The leg press machine had a maximum resistance limit of 25,000 lbs. Dwight's mammoth redwoods shorted out the machine in less than five minutes. But during that five minutes the pump he received increased the girth of his upper thighs by 27%. 1200 reps apiece with magnetic dumbbells, each one set to 2000 lbs of resistance swelled his biceps up to 120 inches cold. Flexed they peaked at 144 inches, erupting miniature volcanoes both. "I need to get bigger, Doc. How about another pill," Dwight requested after stopping to rest and eat.... pizza, that's right, pizza. He'd sent Francisco out on an errand to bring back ten of the largest cheese, tomato and pepperoni pizzas available in the city. With Lord Dunwith getting the bill, the sky was the limit for the ever-expanding muscle god. Dwight's gut began to swell again, as he gorged on the fattening fare. I grew somewhat pensive, but recorded everything as it transpired. "I don't think that's a good idea yet, Dwight. I'm still putting your blood through some final analyses before we proceed. This gut expansion of yours is not something I anticipated. It may not be good for you to continue to indulge yourself in this way." He paused between demolishing his fifteenth and sixteenth slice of pizza (by now he was picking up slices in both hands, eating at a rate that was beyond even superhuman). I thought he was going to snap and explode with rage for not getting his own way. Instead: "Fair enough. I can grow now without your goddam pills. Look... see my gut? Watch it balloon as I eat more food than an average family can get through in a week," Dwight boasted. I wasn't much of a pizza eater, but these things were huge, easily 30 inches in diameter. A family of four could probably live on one of these monsters for a couple of days at least. Whilst this was going on, I failed to notice Francisco wheeling a large rectangular box into the weight room via a two-wheeled trolley. What the hell was that? By the time my assistant had set up the milkshake machine, Dwight was demolishing the last of his pizzas and rubbing his massive belly as it continued to grow, pushing his pecs even higher so that his head was completely obscured from my view. How he was getting any food into his mouth at all - with so much pec-meat in the way - was a minor miracle to behold. I finally acknowledged the milkshake machine. It was the kind you see in fast food restaurants, with a combination dispenser array designed for making shakes and sundaes of various flavours. "What in blazes is that doing here?" I demanded to know. "Well I...mmmfff...slurp... need something to .... yummm... wash down all this pizza, Doc, mmmfff," said Dwight, his table manners bordering on atrocious. My eyes nearly came out on stalks. This activity went against the grain of my scientific agenda. But curiosity, the kind that turns scientists into human flies, suddenly got the better of me. I had to see where this was going. My arousal was greater than ever. There was something so insanely stimulating at the thought of Dwight blowing up like a balloon, then sucking it all back in (whatever "it" was) before converting it to hundreds of pounds of new muscle. I accepted the idea of the milkshake machine. What I found difficult to digest, however, was the method by which it was about to be delivered to Dwight's digestive system. Francisco attached some rubber hose to the nozzle of the shake machine, and then the free end to a mightily-big plastic funnel, the like of which I'd never seen before. What... was it used for giving an elephant an enema? "Hurry the fuck up, little man," Dwight bellowed, and now he'd wedged himself into one corner, pushing a whole rack of dumbbells out of the way so as to make room. Francisco, it seemed, was only too willing to oblige. My soon-to-be ex-lab assistant promptly obeyed the muscle/gut monster and stuck the small end of the funnel, not only into Dwight’s mouth, but his giant's throat seemed to have no problem at all accommodating the foot-and-a-half-long proboscis through which he would receive the nutritional goop, which Francisco then began to pour into the reservoir at the back of the machine. "Whoa, hold on a goddamn minute there, Francisco," I squealed, using a profanity that would make the hairs stand up on the back of my dear old father's neck. I flitted around to the back of the machine and began to excitedly scribble down the "ingredients" to this super-shake that Francisco was currently putting together. In went the normal liquid shake mix, mostly milk-based and whatever chemicals the manufacturers saw fit to include. Then the syrup flavouring, in this case chocolate, followed by several containers of bodybuilding "muscle milk", creatine, whey, egg protein extract etc. Then Francisco threw in a dozen packets of pancake mix, ice cream, whipped cream, cake mixes etc... it went on and on (where did he find the time to get all this stuff?). I just about managed to scribble everything down; it was important to record exactly what would be going into Dwight's system, but I wasn't totally sure of the ratios. Fuck it, I thought. Oh darn, more profanity. I no longer cared. This wasn't just about science any more, it was about throwing caution to the wind, cocks oozing precum, and my desire to be dominated by the biggest, heaviest and strongest bodybuilder ever to walk the Earth. "Feed me," Dwight almost managed to pronounce correctly, despite that he had eighteen inches of plastic down his neck (how did he avoid the gagging reflex?). Francisco, almost fit to collapse from exhaustion, threw the switch on the shake machine. It rumbled into life, it's innards mixing, churning and drawing this ultra-rich ambrosia further into itself, chilling and emulsifying it, and within seconds the thick goop began its journey along the hosepipe and towards the funnel. With the sensors again on the blink, I couldn't tell how big Dwight's stomach had stretched to, but if I were to guess I'd say it had to be at least 150 inches around (I could have been way off the mark there). What happened next was... was... the SHIT!!!!! It was like the entire room was getting smaller, however, because our eyes were rapt on Dwight's further metamorphosis, everything around us had become superficial, minuscule. As more and more of the super-rich mix "glug-glugged" along the hose – through the funnel and down into the magnificent bodybuilder's incredible body – the bigger his mega-gut swelled. How his skin didn't rip apart as it breached the threshold of elasticity is beyond me. But his stretch marks were so many now, the skin flashing red, then normal again, as it hurriedly repaired and adjusted itself. Soon the shake machine's reservoir was empty and anything that was recognisable as a muscular human being had disappeared behind the biggest belly in all of creation. Not even a pair of feet stuck out from beneath the vast sphere of flesh. The shake machine shut down, obviously designed to do that when its reservoir ran dry. I was at a loss for what to do. I turned to Francisco. "Is there no more of the stuff?" He slowly shook his head, unable to take his eyes off the mega-belly that had swollen to such a vast size that several of the workout machines had been pushed aside by its burgeoning advancement. I feared for Dwight's life, I really did. He uttered not a single sound, and there were no signs of movement. The next minute seemed to last a small eternity. Was I holding my breath in anticipation of the next phase? Next phase? Damn, I didn't know which way was up right now. The centre of my entire universe was a point somewhere on that gigantic belly now taking up a good eighth of the room's volume. Then... a dumbbell clattered to the floor next to the belly. Then another. Then the sound of groaning metal. And... was that... a moan... a sound of distress from a suffering human? I tentatively edged a little closer to my test subject. "Dwight... are you..." "Unnnnnghhh," he uttered, and I was thankful that he was still alive. "Belly...ache," he moaned, for he'd obviously spat out the funnel at this point. I could now see his hands flailing sluggishly on either side of the hot-air balloon that had become of his belly. He wanted to rub his belly, but it was way too large for him to manage this. I wanted to oblige. "I can soothe your discomfort, Dwight. If I rub your stomach it should help with digestion." I so wanted to feel and caress that incredible body. Bellies didn't turn me on nearly as much as muscles, but with Dwight this didn't matter. He was a bodybuilding behemoth, therefore no matter what his shape, the god that he had become demanded my attention and worship. "Suh-sounds guh-good, Doc," he stammered. And so I made physical contact with Dwight, not quite the way I'd hoped to, but it was something to be thankful for. His belly swelled before me, a ten-foot high, twenty-foot wide wall of flesh. I began to rub it, applying as much pressure as I could, but I couldn't dent it. I might as well have been trying to massage granite or steel. But I persisted, working a little vigour into my efforts. Eventually: "Feels good, Doc. Pain is going away now." Unlike my own pain, which was caused by a painfully hard and swollen cock pressing against the inside of my pants. Thank goodness my white lab coat concealed my shame. I kept rubbing him like this for what seemed like a very long time, so long that I began to tire of the activity. Then... A rumbling... deep and guttural and building in pressure. The entire room began to shake. Plaster broke from the ceiling and rained down on us. More weight equipment toppled or crashed. Was it a quake? It couldn't be. We were nowhere near a fault line. "He's gonna belch again," I suddenly realised. "Unnngh.....can't keep it in, Doc," Dwight groaned. The rumbling increased in intensity. Windows smashed and doors buckled in their frames. How much of the surrounding city block would now be feeling these effects? And if this facility could be traced to the epicentre, I feared for the future of my research. Had we taken this too far? Just a tad. "Quick, Francisco, behind that table," I indicated to my lab assistant. There was an overturned table about eight feet away. We had to get to it before Dwight let rip. We barely got to it in time. Dwight erupted on a cataclysmic scale. The room was quickly filled with enough gas to cause a major explosion should there be any naked flames nearby. I worried for the state of my lab next door. Some of the chemicals I used were volatile if mixed. Under these conditions how they hadn't already mixed was a small miracle. The belch went on for what seemed like forever. The smell was nauseating and it was another miracle that Francisco and myself didn't throw up. But then... another transformation. Like before, as Dwight's belly began shrinking back into its taut, sexy muscle-brick configuration, every single muscle in his body began to get bigger... and bigger... and stronger... and so much harder (as hard as my throbbing cock right now? That was questionable). Francisco and I watched, dumbfounded with awe, as Dwight grew so much bigger. Once his belly had diminished enough for him to stand up, he was able to give us a much better show as his transformation endured. He was now pushing ten feet tall. His neck was hard to make out in between a pair of monstrous traps that sloped down to shoulders that now had to be seven feet wide, if not more, each one ending in a bulbous deltoid twice the size of a human head. The bottom half of his beautiful face was hidden behind the biggest, most projecting pair of mammoth pecs I'd ever seen. How big was his chest now? 200? 300 inches? It was impossible to gauge at this point. But when Dwight flexed and bounced them, the currents of displaced air charged across the room and slammed us between our table shield and the wall behind. He flexed his ever-increasing upper arms, and biceps wider than a cow exploded with veins and mass. His forearms alone were twice as thick as an averagely-built man. His belly continued to shrink and harden, his waist once again returning to that gorgeous taper that every bodybuilder endeavours to create. His body continued to hulk-out with more and more mass. It just wouldn't stop. He had to weigh thousands and thousands of pounds by now. And he was STILL getting bigger and bigger. His thighs grew wider than a car, thicker and more striated, and with deeper cuts between the muscles than ever before. Walking would be a major struggle for him now, and yet the thought of him struggling to waddle, much less walk, due to the humongous girth of his thighs, was putting me on the verge of cumming. I gasped and adjusted my cock inside my pants as I marvelled at Dwight's ever-growing calves. Three times the size of a beach ball, I shuddered to think how much bigger they could get. And my libido yearned for yet more muscle-growth. "Yeah, this is what it's all about, Doc. I'm the biggest, baddest, strongest fucker on the planet," Dwight playfully raged. I truly hoped that he wouldn't become a danger to us, or the general public, for that matter. His head almost touched the ceiling. His growth began to slow as his ab-cobbles popped back out, this time twelve of them in two stacks of six apiece. It was the first "twelve-pack" in all of existence. Dwight flared his lats and his upper body just swelled up beautifully. His lats gorged on space and Enerflex and blood and growth hormone and simply swelled up to twenty or more times their previous mass. Dwight's arms were pushed out even further from his sides. But he seemed to be enjoying it. "Look, Doc... my arms are almost horizontal now. I'm...grrrrrrr....trying to press against my lats.....urrrrrrrrrghhh....in order to....unnnngh...get my fucking huge arms down....but...grrrrrrrffff....I can't do it......lats....too big.....want them bigger...grrrrrrrrr!!" He waddled over to the scale. Would it even support his weight now that he'd grown even further? It was an effort for Dwight to move, now, but I found this most arousing. He stood on the scale and just before it was crushed to tiny bits it recorded... "8455 lbs, Doc. Fuck yeah. But I've got to get to ten thousand. I've got to get fucking.....BIGGERRRRRR!!!!!" Dwight was out of control, that much was clear. What could I do to regain control of the situation? There really was only one thing I could do. But that would have to wait. Scientific curiosity had gotten the better of my sense of self preservation. I had to see what happened next. Dwight was like a storm that couldn't be contained, or its movements predicted. He'd flexed every pose capable of a bodybuilder, each time his body ripped into greater hardness and definition, with deeper cuts, more striations, and even greater masses of thick, plump veins. But now he'd grown bored with just posing. He needed to express his strength. He was too big for any of the machines now. But that didn't stop him. He picked up a 200 lb dumbbell. "Watch this, you pussies," he growled. He struggled to get his arms to move around his massive pecs (they must have jutted out at least six feet from his rib cage). But he eventually succeeded in inserting the weight between the two pec mountains. Then he applied pressure, trying to get both his fists to meet so that his pecs were squeezed mightily in-between. As the iron heated up from friction, I gasped when I saw a puff of smoke emerge from between Dwight's mega-pecs. Then he removed the transformed dumbbell, and I almost fainted. He tossed the squashed blob of iron towards us. It still weighed 200 lbs, but it had been compressed into an unrecognisable shape. And he'd made this happen just with his pecs. I was speechless and could only watch in awe at what he did next. He found one of the plates from the old leg-press machine, one that weighed about 300 lbs. It was the size of a very large pizza, and probably ten times as thick. Dwight struggled to pick the thing up off the floor. In the end he gave up and just stomped so hard, his foot actually cracked the concrete, but the shock-wave caused not only the plate to jump into his hand, but Francisco and I almost jumped out of our skins. Then Dwight placed the iron disc between his bicep and forearm and gradually brought the two muscles together nutcracker-style. There was another puff of smoke caused by metallic friction. When he removed the weight disc my jaw dropped open when I saw that not only had the iron been crimped down to the thickness of a razor, but there was even the impression of Dwight's veins on the iron. "I'm the strongest bastard on the planet, Doc. But I need to get stronger." Dwight bounded towards the pair of us, naked and hulking. His cock was almost as big as my entire body. It bobbed and lashed about in a semi-flaccid state, oozing precum with utmost abandon. Dwight's balls throbbed and jiggled, larger than knapsacks beneath his cock. With no room for his junk between thighs that rubbed together as he waddled, the cock and balls had nowhere to hang, and so sticking out ahead of him was their new and final resting place. I must admit to liking that giant cock very much. I wanted to taste it and nurse from its fluids. But it was way too big for my mouth to ever comfortably or reasonably accommodate. Unless.... nah, now wasn't the time. Or was it? What happened next was kind of a blur, and I'm somewhat sketchy on how the events played out. It happened very fast. I just hope that Francisco made it out alive and was a very good liar to the police. But that life is behind me now. I remember hearing wailing sirens... to be expected, considering the gravity of the Dwight-quake that had damaged quite a bit of the surrounding block. I heard the crashing and smashing of masonry, and the indescribable feeling of travelling upwards at a very high velocity. What was going on? I passed out yet again, the last sounds of city life to reach my ears were of police and fire truck sirens, screaming, panicking people, all of which seemed to come from far below. But how? Was I flying? The next thing I was aware of was the feeling of warm sand beneath me. I could smell the salt in the air, and the breeze that nuzzled my skin felt refreshing and invigorating. DAY 3: "Wuh-water," I pathetically gasped. I managed to raise myself to a sitting position. I was still in my clothing, lab-coat and all. The sun was high in the sky. I was on a beach, a tropical island. I'd never seen anything so beautiful. Suddenly a vast shadow was cast around me. Dwight had returned with not only coconuts, but an entire coconut tree. He carried it across one mighty shoulder. It must have weighed many tonnes, but it looked weightless to him. He picked off some of the fruits and then dropped the tree. It would come in handy for kindling later. The huge muscle man sat down opposite me, just about managing to cross his legs without castrating himself. He cracked open a coconut like it was an egg and handed me half. I'd never tasted coconut milk before. It was bitter, but it lubricated my mouth and throat nicely. "How did we get here?" I tried to take in Dwight in his entirety, but my brain was still struggling to accept that he was real. He looked even bigger than before I'd passed out. "I jumped," he replied simply. He began crunching through coconuts, shells and all. I imagined his teeth and jaws would have no trouble crunching through diamonds. "You did....whaaat?" Wherever this place was on the globe, it felt like thousands of miles from my secret lab in the city. "Too much attention drawn to the other place, Doc. I panicked and... jumped. Have to admit, the distance I covered in one leap really surprised me. I think this is an island in the South Pacific. Can't be sure exactly. Geography was never my strong point." "Are you happy with how things played out?" A sober question from me. "Uh, I guess. I want to get bigger, though," he replied with a modicum of regret. "Well you won't get any bigger just eating coconuts. We can't stay here, Dwight." But really, did we have any choice? I thought that Lord Dunwith would have the affluent means, not to mention influence, to hide Dwight for the rest of his life, but did he really deserve to be cooped up like an animal? Not that any cage would hold him, of course. "I can make a paradise for us here," he exclaimed, and for the first time since meeting him two days ago, I looked into his eyes, really looked into them, and for a split second saw just a handsome young man with so many dreams, one of which already came true. Our hearts were suddenly beating as one. "You speak as if I'm Jane to your Tarzan," I replied, speaking without thinking. "Maybe you are, Doc." Dwight had to adjust his seating position as his cock and balls began to swell huge. Was he turned on? It seemed so. "Call me John. Doc makes me feel ancient. I'm only thirty-five." "A good age. I can live with that. I really like you, and can't thank you enough for the amazing gift you gave me." Tenderness now flowed on the currents created by Dwight's words. I was seeing a different side to him... an honest-to-goodness human side. Then he leaned forwards and did something I could never have expected. He picked me up and hugged me. He was surprisingly gentle, too, considering what he could do to cast iron and coconut trees. I was like a rag doll to his child. It was absurd really. He was far too big for me to love properly. Then I remembered... "You need a proper companion and lover, Dwight... someone who can match you in size and strength." I wriggled out from between his mighty mitts and took something out of my pocket. It was a vial containing the purple Enerflex pills. Dwight recognised them immediately and began to drool with excitement. He realised what I was about to do. I tipped the vial into my mouth, caring little if I overdosed. But I had a feeling everything would be okay. Don't ask me how I knew... I just did. "Save some for me, John. I need to grow, too." The look of desperation on Dwight's beautiful face was palpable. "Don't worry, there'll be some left over for later. When I'm as big as you, then we can take the rest of them together. Looks like we have this place to ourselves. Maybe it can be paradise," I said. I began to undress before the muscle-giant.. who would forever be my man. Then I began to grow. The End.
  47. 13 points
    Below is Chapter 6. This is the last chapter I have written and it could be a good place to stop this story. That being said, I have been toying with at least one more chapter, so we'll see what happens. I hope you enjoyed this one. Chapter 6 Everything in my life is about being a freak. I’m so massive, I can never blend in, I can never be hidden. My presence in the world only causes chaos. Knowing that you are the centre of attention whenever you go is something that takes time to get used to. I’ve been playing that part for some time now but there are moments when I suddenly realize how extraordinary that power can be. Over time, it’s become almost as intoxicating as gaining more and more mass. When I finally broke 300lbs I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied. 325lbs was still not enough even knowing how incomprehensible that was to most people. When I surpassed 340lb I knew I was entering a realm of size few would even dare to try to obtain, but for me, I only wanted more. “LIFT IT!” I screamed at Rick as he struggled with his 13 rep of the massive weight. He let out a window-shaking scream as he reached the top of the rep and slammed the bar onto the rack, causing it to slide a foot towards the wall. He stumbled out of the squat rack and his knees buckled, causing him to fall in a huge heap on the floor. “That was a great set!” I said as he nodded his head and tried to catch his breath. I added 4 more plates to the bar and prepared for my set. I ran my hands over the 800 plus pounds of metal on the bar before leaning down and positioning the bar on my inhumanly large traps. I planted my feet and unceremoniously hoisted the bar. As I lowered the weight I felt the burning pump in quads that only signalled that they craved more torture. When my ass was only inches from the ground, I grunted and started to power the weight back up. Rick had recovered and appeared behind me, which I only knew from his encouragement being shouted in my ear because I eclipsed his body completely. At the top of the rep, I lowered the bar again, picking up speed as I did so. My quads moved like massive pistons, with no sign to fatigue. I lost count of the reps but as I raised the weight for the last time, I stopped to marvel at the sight in the mirror. My knees were no longer visible because my quad muscles were so inflated. There was barely a gap between the thick slabs of muscle even though my feet with three feet apart. Cavern-deep separation between the individual muscles could have fit a person’s hand if they were brave enough to try. The vascularity was truly gruesome, leaving no area unaffected. My calves visibly pulsed as they swelled to support my entire body and the weight. I slammed the bar onto the rack and turned to face Rick. “So fucking incredible. Now, add more plates and give me 30 reps.” He said. I licked my lips and followed his instructions. With over 1,000lbs on the bar, I wasted no time in preparing to lift. As the unfathomable weight attempted to crush my body, I hoisted it off the rack. I gritted my teeth and as I entire body started to shake violently, I started to move. After the first few reps, I fell into a sort of trance. The pain in my quads and calves disappeared and the movement of the weight become automatic. In my mind, I pictured how much larger my quads and calves could become. Their proportions surpassed anything witnessed in the real world. Slabs of impossibly massive muscle appeared and twisted around my skeleton. Their girth exploded from every direction and new muscle groups we formed to accommodate how massive they were becoming. Their size grew exponentially larger and out of proportion with the rest of my absurdly massive upper body. The vision in my head was so exaggerated that even I was shocked by ow extreme it was. I was only brought back to reality by Rick’s fists pounding on my back as he shouted as loud as he could. “CHAD! Stop!” He screamed. I opened my eyes as I reached the top of the rep. I had been moving the bar so fast, weights started to fall off the ends and were smashing onto the floor around me. I shook my head and lowered the bar onto the rack and stumbled out of the cage. I turned to face Rick, who was staring awestruck at the grotesque view of my fully pumped quads. “My god Chad. LOOK at you!” I didn’t connect the image in the mirror as being myself. What I saw wasn’t even a human being. There was a moment of terror as I was seeing the impossibly gruesome creature I was just imagining in my mind standing in front of me. It wasn’t until I placed my shaking hands on my quads that I realized that what I as seeing was in fact, real. My quads were bright purple with pump, try as I might, I couldn’t even flex them. I looked up at Rick who just stood slack-jawed at the sight. “Holy shit Rick!” Was all I could say. Rick suddenly couldn’t help himself and fell to his knees and started to feel my quads and calves. The people near us, those that dared to look in my direction, stared in awe. “S-s-so massive! He muttered before producing a measuring tape from his pocket. With a trembling hand, he wrapped it around my right quad. I noticed him struggle to force the tape through the nonexistent gap between my legs. When the ends met, Rick recoiled in horror and looked up at me. “51 inches!!!” Rick screamed. It took me a moment to register what he just said. I slowly raised my head and looked at myself in the mirror. Each quad look comically out of proportion with the rest of my body. I also couldn’t help notice that Rick huge, 290lb body looked puny next to my quads alone. Somehow, I was able to adjust my legs and with a growl that was both the result of pain and intense pleasure, I started to flex my quads. Even in their pumped state, deep striations appeared on their surface. The ever-present veins thickened and pulsed as the muscles found room to expand further. I felt my cock get hard and threaten to rip through my shorts as I relaxed and re-flexed each quad. “Measure again!” Rick placed the tape around my right quad again, showing even more difficulty making the ends meet. His mouth was moving but words didn’t come out. He looked up at me, with tears streaming down his face. “54 inches” he finally managed to whisper. I felt my knees go weak as a huge load of cum filled my shorts. Rick stood and embraced me. I felt his rock-hard cock pressed against my abs as we kissed and tears filled my eyes too. --- “We should check out the bodybuilding show that’s happening today.” Rick said as we finished breakfast. I laughed and continued to eat. “I’m serious! I think it would be cool to see how people react to us.” “You know how’d they react. They’d freak the fuck out seeing us sitting in the audience.” I said as Rick wrapped his huge arms around my astronomically large shoulders. “That’s what I mean. Don’t you want people to wonder why my 290lbs and your 347lb bodies aren’t standing on stage, making everyone else look fucking tiny in comparison?” “Well, that could be fun.” “Exactly. Come on, let’s go and watch. Besides, we might see someone to have some fun with later.” Rick said. He knew about the encounters I’ve had as I’ve grown bigger and I think he was itching to be a part of them. I wrapped my arm around his head and pulled him in for a kiss. “Ok, let go have some fun.” It happened to be a rather large bodybuilding show with some well known professionals competing. As we approached the front entrance, I noticed a side door with a few people standing around. From the unmistakable tanned skin of some of the people, I knew they were competitors. I nudged Rick’s arm, signalling for him to follow me. I could see the spark of excitement in his eyes. As we approached the side entrance, we garnered a few confused looks but based on our obvious size, our presence wasn’t questioned. We were both wearing over-sized sweaters but they couldn’t hide the mass underneath. Once inside, we found ourselves in the middle of the backstage pump room. The sound of metal weights and nervous excitement was immediately apparent. The room was massive and filled to the brim by contest-ready bodybuilders, their coaches and a swarm of people assisting with the contest preparation. We moved to a secluded corner of the room and scanned the room. Over the loud speaker, we heard it announced that the super heavyweight class was up next and competitors should prepare to go on stage shortly. There was a suddenly flurry of movement as the biggest men started to finish their preparations. This included a final coat of oil and a rush to pump themselves up as much as possible. I glanced over at Rick who was surveying the crowd of muscle. He was staring at an obvious front-runner standing a few feet away. He was clad in a skimpy poser that rode up his ass, displaying his ample glutes. He was curling a set of dumbbells extremely fast, trying to pump up his biceps as big as possible. By all accounts, he was a huge man, in excellent condition and ready to make an impression on stage. I spotted another formidable contestant a little father away. He was sitting on a bench having just finished his set. He flexed his pumped chest repeatedly, forcing additional veins to pop through his skin. Behind him, an exceptionally good-looking man was performing bent over rows. With each movement, his thick hamstrings would explode in size and definition. As we continued to survey the approximately 20 super heavyweights I couldn’t help but hear Rick start to giggle. “Uh oh,” was all I said. Rick sauntered over to the guy using the bench press. Even fully clothed, I couldn’t help but marvel at how huge Rick looked in a sea of bodybuilders. “Mind if I work in?” Rick asked. The competitor appeared confused and irritated by the interruption. “Dude, I’m getting ready to go on stage, this isn’t like the gym.” He responded curtly. Rick moved to the back of the bench and wrapped his hands around the bar that was loaded with three 45lb plates. With barely a grunt, he lifted the bar off the rack and started to slowly curl it. The 315lb bar moved smoothly during each rep. The bodybuilder stood up and turned to face Rick with anger in his eyes. When he saw how easily Rick curled the weight, his expression changed to one of shock. Even through the thick fabric of his sweater, Rick’s 24” arms were starting to swell bigger. From a number of feet away, I could see thick veins being pushed to the surface. “What the FUCK dude!” The guy yelled at Rick, causing others to turn and look in their direction. Rick stopped curling the weight and held his forearms parallel to the floor. “Sorry man but seeing all you guys pumping weights made me want to do the same. What do you think, are my arms getting bigger?” Rick said and slowly raised the bar again, holding it at the top of the rep and visibly flexing his entire upper body. There was an audible tearing sound as his right bicep blew through his sweater. “Holy shit!” The bodybuilder exclaimed as Rick’s thick, vascular arm suddenly appeared. “I take it that’s a yes” Rick said, blasting out four more fast reps before dropping the bar to the floor, sending a loud crash throughout the room. Rick took a step back and unceremoniously ripped the rest of his sweater off like it was made of paper. Underneath, he wore a stringer tank top that was little more than a few strips of fabric. The growing crowd of onlookers gasped at the sight of Rick’s exposed upper body. He shook his arms a few times before raising them into a double bicep pose. His massive arms ballooned in size as his granite-hard bicep peaks rose to fill in the space between his shoulders and forearms. His forearms hung like pieces of meat in a deli. Murmurs rippled through the crowd as Rick suddenly became the centre of attention. He dropped the pose, bend down and hoisted the bar off the ground. He straightened his arm above his head and started to shoulder press the weight. After a dozen reps he held the bar at the top of the rep and started to perform perfect tricep extensions with the 315lb weight. The crowd simply stared in awe at the incredible feat of strength they were witnessing. Rick let out a final grunt and let the bar fall behind him. With one fluid motion, he ripped his tank off, exposing his swollen upper body. There were audible gasps from the crowd. Rick stepped closer to the large bodybuilder and hit a most muscular pose. The sight was truly demonic as his whole body inflated with mind-blowing size and a level of definition, no one in the room could come close too. Slabs of muscle twisted and contorted as thick veins erupted on every inch of his exposed skin. The bodybuilder couldn’t restrain himself and let out a terrified scream. “FUCK YEAH! That was a good pump! Damn, I’m WAY bigger than you man. Maybe I should step on stage and see if I can win the overall title.” Rick said. Rick stepped closer to the bodybuilder and without hesitation, placed one hand on his upper chest and the other between his large quads. With little effort, the huge bodybuilder was lifted off the ground and pressed over Rick’s head. The crowd let out a collective gasp. “Oh yeah! This feels like a good weight to get the blood flowing into these quads.” Rick said and proceeded to squat with man powerless in his grip. As his massive glutes came inches from the floor, Rick let out a growl and stood back up. Frightened cries from the man-handled bodybuilder echoed throughout the room. This didn’t deter Rick who continued to preform textbook perfect reps. After 12 reps he lowered the bodybuilder who was too shocked to react. “Still kind of light but that felt good!” Rick said before ripped his baggy sweats off, exposing his quads and calves. “Oh my god!” “Holy shit!” “FUCK” “Sick!” Rick looked down at his quads and even he was taken aback from the sight. He ran his hands over the bloated, vascular mass of muscle that didn’t resemble any of the quads on display in the crowd. “I need a heavier weight.” Rick said and looked around the room. His eyes stopped at some metal scaffolding leftover from the lights used on stage. He waddled towards the large pieces of metal. Each pillar was over ten feet tall. Rick placed his hands on one the metal structures and tipped it over so it landing on his huge shoulders. He adjusted his grip and with his hands on either side of his body, lifted the metal pillar off the ground. His grunting and panting could not hide how heavy the piece of stage equipment was. Rick positioned his feet and started to squat the heavy object. The crowd stared in terrified disbelief as his moved the massive metal with seemingly ease. After three reps his quads looked completely distorted, thick gardenhose thick veins appeared on every exposed inch while new slabs of muscle appeared to erupt in every direction. “ARGH! This is some heavy shit!” Rick screamed at the top of his sixth rep before letting the metal pillar to come crashing down. He stood and faced the crowd. Their collective gasp was all he needed to hear to know how inhuman he looked. He shook his left leg back and forth, causing the pumped muscles to swing and twitch before stopping his foot down and flexing as hard as could. “FUCK YEAH! Any of you have 36” quads?” Rick asked before repeating the pose with his right leg. A few people in the crowd covered their mouths at the sight, while a number of poser-clad competitors covered their growing cocks. “Pretty fucking sick isn’t it? 5’11”, 290lbs, 24” arms, 62” chest, 35” waist, 36” quads and 24” calves isn’t what you normally see on a bodybuilding stage is it? Have any of you even dreamed a person could be this huge?” Rick asked as he continued to flex and relax his quads. Rick moved back towards the big pro bodybuilder who was now white as a ghost. He stuck his left leg out again next to the guy’s quad. The size difference was downright comical. Rick’s one leg looked bigger than the man’s two legs combined. “Damn. Maybe it’s best I’m not competing, looks like I’d embarrass you.” Rick turned to wards me and winked. “Ok everyone. I’m just getting warmed up. I need to pump this body up even bigger for you but to do that, I need a spot. Chad, care to help me?” “Sure thing” I said as I emerged from the back of the room. As I stepped out from the crowd, there was another audible gasp as people started to comprehend what they were seeing. Still fully clothed, it was impossible not to see how much bigger I was compared to everyone else in the room, including Rick. I walked by Rick and stopped at the metal pillar laying on the floor. I bend over and lifted it off the ground without any visible effort. I pressed it over my head as Rick approached and turned his back to me. I lowered the scaffolding onto his wide, thick shoulders and he started to squat the heavy weight again. After five reps, his pace slowed and I gave him some additional support until he completed 12 reps. Instead of dropping the pillar, like last time, I held it as Rick stepped way. Rick turned to face me as as I started to curl the massive pillar, he started to flex. I licked my lips at the sight of his freakishly pumped up body as I curled the massive piece of metal. “You were right, this is fucking heavy. The pump in my biceps feels SO GOOD!” I said as I surpassed 15 reps. I could hear screams and whimpers from the crowd as I neared 20 reps. At 22, I stopped curling and hoisted the pillar over my head and brought it down to my obscenely massive traps. I wrapped my hands around the metal piping but instead of squatting like Rick, I started to pull. The sound of bending metal echoed throughout the room. Louder screams erupted as I the metal started to move. My whole body trembled as I forced the two ends of the metal pillar towards me. “OH FUCK YEAH!” I screamed. I could feel the fabric of my huge sweater getting tighter and tighter on my swelling body. “What the fuck!” “Oh my god” “How is that possible?” I heard the crowd yell. “Look at yourselves.” I said though gritted teeth and the sound of metal screeching. “Every one of you bodybuilders dream of being this powerful but you don’t have what it really takes to make it happen. You see us? WE know just what it takes. WE know that being bigger is all that matters.” I said with one final surge of power, causing the metal pillar to snap in two and fall to either side of my body. Rick looked on in awe as I placed my hands on my hips and started to flex my upper body. As my muscles grew incomprehensibly more massive, I felt numerous tears appear on different areas of my sweater. My lats blew through first, followed by my left arm and right shoulder. I responded by flexing harder, causing the rips to grow larger. Seconds later, while still flexing, the fabric sweater fell away from my body without having to be touched. Unlike Rick, I wasn’t wearing a tank top underneath. The sight of my flexed, fully exposed upper body sent the room of spectators into overdrive. People started to scream and cry in terror, some ran towards the exist as other’s became sick. “Look at ME! This is what real dedication looks like!” I bellowed. I dropped the pose and transitioned into a most muscular. My cock started to get hard as I felt my muscles flex and fill in all the gaps between my limbs. I only had to glance down at my upper chest that was obscuring the rest of my body to know just how pumped and outrageous I looked. I extended my left leg and flexed. My once loose sweats tightened around my growing quad before ripping open to expose the massive limb. As more people screamed in horror, I alternated my legs and repeated the same motion, freely myself completely from my outer garments. I relaxed and stood so the crowd could take in my entire body now on full display. “This is 5’10” and 347lbs of the freakiest muscle this world has ever witnessed. None of you bodybuilders know what it feels like to have a 22” neck, 28” arms, 24” forearms, 76” pecs, 54” quads and 31” calves. Hell, most of you don’t have 31” quads and MY claves are that big. You don’t have to tell me I’m a fucking monster; I KNOW I AM!” I yelled. I looked around the room and spotted a man-lift that would have been used to install the stage lights on the ceiling. I waddled over to it and without hesitation, bent down and gripped the front end. With a deafening roar, I deadlifted the 2 ton machine off the ground. “For those of you that think they can handle it, I’m about to show you how much power all this muscle processes.” With grunts that both expressed my inhuman effort and pure pleasure, I started to lift the man-lift up and down. I preformed 6 perfect deadlifts before stopping at the top of the rep. My back muscles were so pumped I could feel my lats pressing against my tense biceps. I scanned the room and the faces confirmed just how freaky the sight was. I squared my shoulders and started to raise the massive piece of equipment and started doing shrugs. “Oh my god!” I heard someone scream as I reached the top of the rep. I felt my traps press against my ears and try to crush my neck. The feeling was so intense, gobs of pre-cum started to drip from my now hard cock. “FUCK THIS FEELS GOOD!” I let the machine go and as it crashed to ground, Rick appeared beside me. He couldn’t resist pounding his fists on my outrageously pumped back muscles. I placed my hands on my hips, with obvious resistance from the rest of my massive proportions and started to spread my lats. It was immediately evident that I was far wider than I was tall but my lats continued to grow from either side. “FUCK YEAH Chad. Show them how massive you are.” Rick yelled. I started to growl like an animal as I willed myself to flex harder and grow wider. For added effect, I twisted my left leg so my hamstrings were on full display along with my extended calf. Unable to contain themselves, three pro-level bodybuilders approached and started to feel the impossibly dense muscles of my back. “Mmmmm, yeah, feel how hard and powerful that back is.” I said as they explored every inch. After a minute of holding the pose, I relaxed. My back was so pumped, my arms could not lower past 90 degrees. I felt my cock twitch again from the sensation of my biceps literally sitting on top of my lats. I turned towards the crowd as my new admirers continued to worship me. There were many people jerking their cocks, others had become visibly sick while even more ran towards the exit. “I’m just getting started. You think THIS is big? You have no idea” “Let’s show these people just how big we can get.” Rick said and walked towards some scaffolding a few feet away. He jumped up and grabbed hold of a thick metal support beam. He cranked out a few pull ups before starting to lift his legs and work his abs. His already ripped stomach transformed into a rock-scape of striated muscle and infinite veins. After a few reps, he held his legs parallel to the floor, further empathizing his extreme conditioning and muscle control. Moans of pleasure could be heard from the crowd. “I need more resistance, someone grab onto my quads.” Rick commanded. A bodybuilder emerged from the crowd. He was not as big as the super heavyweights but was definitely contest ready with his own set of outrageously pumped abs. He approached Rick and just before he reached up to grab hold of his quads, ran his hand up and down Rick’s fully flexed oblique muscles. “FUCK” was all he muttered before wrapping his ripped arms around Rick’s massive quads. The extra weight didn’t appear to affect Rick’s ability to keep his legs extended. In fact, he raised them higher. The bodybuilder who was now along for the ride could only stare in awe at the sight. “Still too fucking light! Someone else get over here.” Rick said. A much bigger competitor stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Rick’s legs. The added weight finally registered with Rick and he started to pant and grunt. His already fully flexed abs metamorphosed into something truly obscene. New, thicker veins erupted as each individual ab muscle pulsed and grew. Rick held his legs for close to minute and just as it appeared that he could not hold on any more he did something truly incredible. With a bellow that filled the room, Rick started to perform pull-ups with the two bodybuilders hanging from his quads. Even I watched in shock as Rick started to perform reps with the incredible weight clinging to his body. After two perfect reps, his already thick lats looked like wings sprouting from his body. His massive arms shook and twitched as they swelled larger than his head. After five reps, the pain on Rick’s face was clearly evident but he refused to stop. “AARRGGGHHH” He screamed as his managed a seventh rep before letting the bar go and causing the two men to tumble to the ground at his feet. Rick remained standing so the crowd had a prefect view of his absolutely gruesome upper body. His abs were so pumped they extended inches from his body but he was so huge, his waist remained comically small by comparison. Each individual ab muscle was so extremely developed, a full hand could fit into the crevasses. The two men huddled at his feet could not contain themselves and started to ferociously jerk their cocks. Seconds later, their respective loads of cum showered Ricks vein-covered claves and quads. “FUCK YEAH! Those two know how hot REAL muscle is!” I yelled while cupping my own hard cock. Rick was panting heavily as he looked down at the two bodybuilders. He ran his hand over his abs and even he seemed surprised by their size and density. The crowd was worked into a total frenzy as many bodybuilders started to pull out their dicks and stoke at the sight. I walked over to an extra piece of staging that was approximately 10 feet square. I turned to the crowd with a devious grin. “Climb on, as many as can fit.” A number of bodybuilder approached with a look of confusion on their faces. With close to twenty men standing on the platform, I laid on the floor and positioned myself under the edge of the stage. “No way!” “It’s not possible!” “H-h-how?” They started to mummer. I gripped the metal frame of the platform and with one loud grunt, lifted it off the ground. The people on top scrambled to steady themselves as I started to bench press the incalculable weight. I managed three reps before my pecs became so pumped, I could feel them pressing against my chin. I swelled so large, the metal frame was coming in contact with my pecs before it could touch the ground. The pain coursing through my body was so intense, tears streamed down my face. “N-n-n-need more muscle!” I managed through the pain. At six reps I thought I couldn’t go on but I looked up to see the faces of the people near the edge and their reaction was all I needed to summon more power. I let out a great bellow and started to press the platform faster. Like pistons, my arms started to move. I reached 10 reps when I felt the first load of cum splash onto the floor near my head. At 12, there was audible orgasms from all around the room. When I finally reached 15 reps, Rick appeared to hold the platform as I rolled out from underneath it. I was so pumped, the stage would not touch the ground with me under it. I stood up and stepped onto the stage, moving to the centre. Instantly, I felt countless hands groping my impossibly massive body. I slowly transitioned into a most muscular pose and couldn’t help but scream as I did so. I felt every muscle on my body respond and grow bigger than it had ever been. New, ticker veins erupted on every inch as individual muscles as big as entire men swelled and twisted to find room. My forearms, biceps and lats smashed together into one massive pile of muscle. My neck was completely swallowed by my traps. I could feel my quads pressing against each other all the way to my claves which physically pushed my feet apart to accommodate their girth. “FFFFFUUUCCCCKKK!!!!!” I screamed. I had never felt so massive, so full of power. My body felt like it was being crushed by itself. As my cock started to spray cum on the crowd, they too started to orgasm in unison. The room filled with the sounds of moans, cries and of pure lust. I reached over and grabbed Rick and as I cradled him with one arm, I plunged my cock into his ass, tearing though his underwear as I did so. With my free arm fully flexed, I drove my cock deep into Rick as he came on a pile of bodybuilders laying at our feet.
  48. 13 points
    Cubs Muscle up Amazing Transformations Disclaimer: This is a story about unprotected consensual sex between men. If this offends you then do not read on. If you are under the age of 18 then please close this document. Chapter 1: The Beginning I was a normal 20 year old kid with the exception that he was gay, and attracted to muscle bears (big Muscular hairy gay men). Not only was I attracted to musclebears, but I also wanted to be one. At 5 foot 8 inches and 150 pounds I was quite scrawny and unattractive. Anyway, let me introduce myself. My name is Chad and I live in California. The mecca of gay musclebears. I'm also attending UCLA as chemistry major. One Friday night (yeah I have no life) I was working late in the lab working on a new batch of glow goo (I sell em to the rave kids for some extra cash) when a small quake hit and knocked some extra stuff into my formula. "Great, now I have to start over" I thought when I noticed that some of my mess had dripped into the mouse cage. Oliver (the mouse) was lying on its back twitching and got noticeably bigger. After the twitching was done he got up and seemed to be fine with one exception. The mouse was bending his water nozzle. "Well THAT shouldn't happen" I back tracked through what happened, analyzed the new "goo" and after I determined that it wasn't toxic I ran some more tests. This stuff was great! It seemed to enhance the muscle and bone structure of the one who drank it. Well since I made 5 gallons of the stuff I bottled it up and took it home. I live alone so nobody would interrupt me while I test it on my self. I decided that the best thing to wear was a little pair of running shorts and then setup my video camera and some mirrors to document the experiment. I poured out a full 8 oz helping, stared at it for a bit, downed it and waited. It seemed like forever and then I started to feel funny. Kind of nauseated and warm. Then came the convulsions. My stomach hurt so bad I thought I was gonna die. I managed to look up at the mirror on the ceiling (it wasn't hard since I was laying down) and I saw it happen my shoulders broadened and my chest was getting bigger. More convulsions. It started happening faster. Arms, legs, back, they were all getting huge. My shorts also started to feel really tight too. The crotch bulged up enormously then they ripped and out popped the biggest cock and balls I had ever seen. I was also sprouting fur and then it stopped. I stood up and looked in the mirror. I was BIG. I was a muscle bear. But I wasn't as big as I wanted to be so I drank a few more ounces. After that transformation I looked again and saw an ursine muscle GOD. I had a bit of a tummy but man was I massive. I looked down at my crotch and almost fainted. I was getting turned on by my bod but when I saw my cock I got hard immediately. And it was huge! I grabbed a tape measure. 12.5 inches long and 8 inches around and I was horny as hell! I was taller too. I jumped up to 6'3". I had to share this discovery so I called Jerry. "Jerry, hey u busy?" "No. Why?" Jerry is a long time buddy and bear chaser too. "I was in the lab last night and whipped up something wild" "Oh like what?" "Well come over and see" "Now?" "Sure why not. I think I might be able to fulfill one of your dreams" "What? Ummm.. Ok gimme a sec I have to put some clothes on" "Ok do you still have some of Jeff’s clothes?" "Ya why?" "Just bring them" "Ok be there in a sec" 5 minutes later Jerry knocked on the door. When I let him in he almost died. "What the fuck happed to you?!?!?!" "Remember the quake earlier?" "Yeah" "Well I was makin some glow goo and some other stuff spilled in. This is the result." "Wow. Awesome! You’re huge! Man can I get that big?" "Sure can. Strip down to your boxers and drink this" I handed Jerry 12 oz of the magic Juice. "Swallow this and lay here on the floor. It's safer and u can see your self up there." "Ok" Jerry drank it and laid down. I flipped on the camera and started the filming. "How long does it take?" "About 10 minutes. Let me know when u start feeling tingly" About 7 minutes later he started changing "I feel weird. Kinda like I'm sick. My tummy hurts" "It's Ok that is natural just relax" "Oh my god! What's happening?!" For the next 5 minutes Jerry twitched and grew and became more sexy right before my eyes. The beach towel that I had on started to tent and eventually fell off as my dick reached it's full size. When it was all said and done Jerry laid there sweating and breathing hard like he had run a mile. "My god that was intense?" "It was hot too. Look at your self" "Oh jesus. I'm huge!" "Just like me let's measure each other. You measure me first." "Ok. Biceps... 35 inches, chest...80, waist..42, thighs....40, calves....24 GOD DAMN!" "Don't forget the last muscle. I measured it earlier 12.5x8" "Holy fuck!" "Ok ok. Now you. Bicep....30, chest...59, waist...44, thighs...30, calves...20, and last but not least cock...11x7. Wow were awesome!" "Hell yeah! I'm horny too" "I noticed. I am too" I started rubbing Jerry's massive hair chest tweaking a nip. He moaned and his cock twitched. He grabbed my head and gave me the biggest hottest kiss I have ever had. Our hands roamed our massive muscle bear bodies. Jerry dropped to his knees and swallowed as much of my dick as he could which surprisingly was about ¾ of it. I almost came right there but I survived 20 minutes of the best head in the world. I was determined to swallow his whole dick. I laid him down and dove down. Forcing huge amounts of cock down my throat. Finally I managed to get it all then I backed off and proceeded to give him the sucking of his life. "OH FUCK STOP!" "Why?" "I don't want to cum yet. I want us to fuck each other first" "Ok!" I got out some lube and slicked up my cock. "Is it hot in here?" "Yeah I'm sweating" I got all slicked up, bent Jerry over and started pushing. GOD he was tight! He moaned as I slid inch after inch up his hot hole. When I finally had all 12 inches up in him he stood up and flexed his ass muscles. "FUCK that feels good" "Yeah 12 inches of muscle bear cock! You like that? You like this big dick up your ass?" "Fuck yeah bear FUCK ME!" For the next 30 minutes I plowed Jerry's ass in as many positions as I could think of. God it was hot. I was dripping sweat and I was getting close to cumming. "I'm getting close man" "Fuck yeah do, it cum!" I could feel it build and it was gonna be a big one. Pistoning in and out of Jerry's ass like a man possessed then it happened I came. I roared and let loose the biggest load of my life, that sent Jerry off and there was cum every where. He must have soaked a 4 foot radius and I dumped so much cum up his ass that every time I moved in him it splashed out. I continued to gently pump as we kissed and cuddled and after a while we decided to shower and get some food. After we had fed our face I looked at Jerry. I had an idea. "I think we should recruit more people. Daily orgies would be fun" "Hell yeah but who?" "I have a few ideas." Stay tuned for the next chapter....... Questions? Comments?
  49. 13 points
    So I thought I'd share a couple of illustrations of Deano which were done by an artist I met on Twitter called Rayject (he's on here as @Rayjacked). The first one is of Deano and Woody in Posing Practice 101 which I already shared in the Muscle University thread but Rayject then decided to do another illustration of just Deano showing off his bubble butt () in his favourite maroon red velvet posers! How amazing are these? He also has an Instagram here if anyone wants to check out more of his stuff.
  50. 13 points
    Part 1 Let me know what you think! ________________________________________________ I loved it. I mean, I absolutely loved it. I'd never gotten a blowjob before, and the experience was... phenomenal. My cock had never been so hard and throbbing. It was so intense. I got back home and couldn't help myself. I dropped--threw--my gym bag onto my bed and went straight for the mirror. I had a full length mirror, which I was SO thankful for right now. I stood there, gazing at myself. I was sort of out of breath, since I definitely rushed back, so I was breathing rather heavy, and I watched my shoulders rise and fall with my deep breaths. My wider, bigger shoulders. My chest was pressing outward in my T-shirt, which I absolutely loved. I had an actual chest now, which was so much more amazing than I ever imagined. It wasn't a huge chest, but it was something. I'd been waiting for this moment. I pulled the sleeves back on both of my arms and flexed into a double-bicep pose, and FUCK. My arms rose into these little balls of muscle that were definitely just little mounds of soft flesh this morning. Any dude watching me right now would still be all like "he's too small to be showing off" but I didn't care. I was bigger than I was before. And it felt so... fucking... GOOD. I pumped my arms a bit, flexing and unflexing, watching the muscle rise and fall. It was such a hot sight. And it was ME. Not another guy. ME. And my dick was of course responding. I felt myself getting harder and harder, and it was to my OWN muscle. I lifted up the bottom of my shirt and... YES! I had some abs. It wasn't a tight six-pack or anything, but there were bumps there. A start of a six-pack. The sign of an athletic body, even though they weren't defined. My dick throbbed. I saw a wet spot forming on the front of my pants. Which was quicker to happen than normal, but I was super turned on. So, I pulled my pants off and let my big throbbing dick bounce up and slap my new abs. Some pre drooled onto the carpet. I also took notice of my bigger, thicker legs. I flexed them and marveled at the muscles that formed when before I had nothing. It was incredibly hot. I pulled my shirt over my head and threw it, now standing completely nude, and yes, I was definitely looking more like I hit the gym than I did before. I laid down on my bed, shoving my gym bag to the floor, and gripped my cock with my hands. I shuddered. Pleasure was shooting through every fiber of my being. I began jerking myself off, rubbing my hands up and down on my angry, throbbing member. It felt SO GODDAMN GOOD. I sighed. I kept jerking myself, getting faster as the pleasure increased. I felt really pent up even though I'd just blown a load not an hour before. I felt the clear pressure of impending ejaculation, and I didn't stop. I had no interest in edging myself. I wanted it to happen NOW. And BOOM. My cock exploded. Cum shot out of it into the air, and I swear, that first white volley came within an inch of the ceiling. I heard myself moan. Another shot, almost as high as the first. FUCK! I've never cum so hard before. These are powerful shots. BOOM. Another shot, tapering off, but still feeling intense as that first. Each shot was rising into the air then falling right back onto my chest. My new pecs. Splattering all over. As soon as it was just a dribble, I lay there panting, cum all over myself. It took a moment to realize that I didn't grow like last time. So it was confirmed. At least as far as I was concerned. I needed a blowjob to grow. I cleaned myself off and showered. I was starting to wonder if it'd be better to shower at the gym. Either way, I needed to come up with a plan to get another dude to blow me. It only took 19 years to get my first blowjob, so what's another 19 years? NO. I couldn't think like that. I could definitely make it happen. Maybe I needed to show off the goods a bit more. Get my dick more on display. Fuck. But then I had an idea. Who did I know that was gay? I had to know someone. It was a pretty big college, so there had to be plenty of gay dudes around who'd wanna suck my dick. But then an idea struck me. Grindr. I'd fiddled with it in the past, but I got bored of the weirdos on there who I was simply not interested in. But now I was at college and I'd be able to see all the guys nearby who were gay and potentially looking for some fun. I took out my phone and redownloaded the app, and I was eager to get someone to blow me so I was moving swiftly. I laid down on my bed and set up my profile. I didn't even bother with a picture. I just made my tagline say "horny" and started browsing through the people who were online. I actually did see several dudes on there that I'd seen in passing, one of whom was even in one of my classes. A lot of the squares were blank, which told me a lot of guys still liked to stay incognito. Which was fine, all I needed was someone to suck my dick. I didn't really have the desire to initiate conversation with any of these guys. I was still nervous about the whole thing. I mean, I definitely wanted some head, but it just still felt weird doing this stuff. But I would think back to how it felt getting sucked, and the feeling of my muscles swelling... my cock was getting hard again just thinking about it. I started to nod off laying there. I hadn't received any messages, and I was getting kind of bored. But just as soon as I was about to drift off to sleep, I heard an alert from my phone. I immediately opened the app and saw the message and the sender. He had a profile picture, too. All he said was "Hi." He was attractive, with short brown hair and a dark stud in each ear. No visible blemishes on his face, which was a plus. I sent back "Hello." "Wyd" "Nothin much just chillin in my room hbu" "Looking?" "Just for some head but yea" "pic?" I sent him a face picture. I had some actual photogenic selfies saved to my phone which I used rather than taking a brand new one right now. "Nice" and then he also said "Dick?" Fuck. I guess it never occurred to me to get a pic of that. "Hang on," I responded. I needed to get hard, and fast. I switched apps on my phone and went into my photo gallery. I, of course, had photos of muscle saved in there. "Guys next door" type of muscle. My favorite. Nonchalant flexes. I started with my favorite one, a dude about my age grinning cockily and flexing a pretty big bicep still wrapped in a shirt sleeve. His arm was big and his shirt was the perfect size to accentuate his biceps. The sleeve was tight around that bicep. I felt my cock rapidly swelling within my shorts. I switched to another photo. This one was another amazing photo to look at for a guy like me. Two dudes in this one, but one was skinny standing next to his friend flexing a double bicep, his sleeves pulled back, and grinning. The skinny friend was looking at him smiling, but I could tell he was envious as hell. I loved to imagine the skinny friend feeling his muscled friend's biceps after that pic was taken. My cock surged in my shorts, growing to full size, and I quickly moved to another photo. This one had another guy around my age standing in front of his bathroom mirror taking a selfie of himself just standing there, completely naked. He wasn't flexing, just totally relaxed, but his body was amazing. Full pecs, 6-pack abs, round bulbous muscular shoulders and thick defined arms, and his cock was standing straight up. And my own cock was now throbbing hard. I quickly whipped my cock out and positioned my phone to take a photo. I snapped one, then another, and then yet another. I got multiple angles. I saw some pre beginning to seep out of my tip, and I was sure to get a pic of that, too. I didn't want to waste time so I opened Grindr again and sent one of my new dick pics to my new potential friend. "Fuck thats a big dick" "Yeah?" "Fuck yeah man youd destroy me thankfully i just wanna suck you hehe" and then "Got any more?" I sent him another one. "Shit yeah your dick looks delicious" and then he sent another pic of himself with more than just his face. Another selfie but it was taken from farther away to show his torso, but still clothed. He was cute, for sure. "Come over" I sent, along with my dorm location. "Ooo your close" he said, then "BRT" It took a moment for that to sink in. FUCK. I had another dude coming to my room to suck my cock. He'd be here in mere minutes. FUCK. I looked in the mirror and fixed my hair and made sure I looked alright. I had a cool shirt on, I think, and I had a clean pair of gym shorts on. I took my bottle of cologne and spritzed a tiny amount on myself. I felt so nervous. I was pacing the room, butterflies in my stomach. I'd never done this before. It seemed so odd to me to be doing this. I never imagined myself in this position. I kept checking my phone, thinking he'd have sent a message I didn't hear canceling on me. I also kept double-checking my appearance in my mirror. I had a brief moment in which I took notice of my new frame after my first blowjob. My shoulders were noticeably wider, and I didn't realize until now how much higher the bottom of my T-shirt reached now. If I raised my arms, part of my stomach was exposed. I did really fill out this shirt more. But then suddenly I heard the knock at the door, which sent the butterflies in my stomach into overdrive. I had to take a deep breath. Not wanting to appear too eager, I slowly walked over to the door, sluggishly looking through the peephole and seeing it was indeed him, and unlocked it. I gripped the knob, and again, slowly turned it and opened the door. He stood there, looking me right in the eye, and smiled. "Hey," he said. I felt myself swallow, but my mouth was dry. FUCK I needed to get over this nervousness. I stepped aside and said "Come on in, man." He walked in and stood there as I shut the door. "What's up?" he said, as we awkwardly stood there. "Uhh, to be honest, I've never done this before, so I'm kind of nervous," I confessed. "It's alright man, I get it, I just wanna please you," he smiled, "Come on." He took my hand and guided me to my bed and pressed his hands into my chest til I sat on the end of my bed. He sat down beside me and put his hand on my leg and slowwwllllyyyy slid it up, then down my leg, occasionally allowing his fingers to knead my quads. I felt some stirring in my crotch area. "You're even sexier than I thought you'd be," he said. I felt my face go red, and I couldn't think of anything cool to say so I simply said "Thanks." He let his hand become more adventurous and it inched its way closer to my dick. I felt myself getting harder. I felt myself shudder, and the sexual tension was starting to become overwhelming. My nervousness was still there, and I had this overbearing uncertainty as to how to behave in this situation. I didn't know what my hands should be doing. Should I be touching him, too? Should I be doing the same thing to him? "Relax, man. Let me please you," he almost whispered, and then his hand grabbed my cock through my shorts. "Whoa..." he said rather loudly. His reaction was genuine, and I still had trouble believing my cock was something so amazing. He stroked me through my shorts and let his hand travel the entire length. "You're fucking big. Like, the pic you sent didn't do it justice." "Thanks," I said, sheepishly, while trying to refrain from squirming. His hand on my cock felt SO GOOD. "Stand up for me, sexy," he said. Then added "Please." I stood up, and he followed suit. He put his hands on my shoulders, then kissed me right on my lips. I was surprised a little, but it felt so right. I liked the kiss. At first it was pretty subdued, but then he really got into it, and I returned the kiss just as hard. We both let our tongues entwine, and my hands had moved to his hips, and very quickly, I pulled him into me, and I felt our hard cocks press together. It was a hot feeling. He moaned a little, his mouth still on mine. His hands began to move, his hands running down my arms, stopping at my upper arms. He gripped them, and squeezed. He broke the kiss, and said "Oooo someone's got some muscles," and I honestly didn't know how to respond. I wanted to kiss some more, but his attention was on my arms now. He was squeezing and running his hands over them, and then he said something that surprised me more than anything else had so far. "Flex for me, sexy." "What??" I said, with a little more surprise in my voice than I'd intended. "Please? Show me your biceps. They feel big. I wanna see." "Ummm, alright," I said, again, sheepishly. I brought my right arm up and flexed it the way I always see other guys do it. Held it parallel to the floor and straight out from my body, and bent my arm while tensing the biceps. My arm contracted into the nicely sized ball of muscle that had grown since my first blowjob. I saw his eyes watching it the entire time I did it, and they widened when my bicep appeared in its fully flexed glory. I hadn't moved the sleeve back, though, so some of it was still covered. "Hot," he whispered. I started to lower my arm and he said "No! Not yet. Please keep it flexed." So I flexed again, and he pulled the sleeve back himself, exposing my entire upper arm and part of my shoulder. "Fuck," he breathed, while reaching his hand up and running his fingers over the ball of muscle. He then wrapped his fingers around it and squeezed, and to my own surprise, there wasn't much give, if any at all. "It's so hard, too," he said. I was feeling pretty good about my muscular development right about then. I'd never had anyone compliment my muscles before, and here was this dude practically drooling over my biceps. So, I felt a bit more confident. I lowered my flexed arm, which made him open his mouth to protest, but I quickly pulled the sleeve back on my other arm and went into a double-bicep flex. "FUCK!" he exclaimed, and immediately had one of his hands on each of my arms. My cock was throbbing hard at this point, and I could feel pre leaking. "Fuck," he said again, and I watched as he took one of his hands and started jerking himself through his shorts. He then dropped to his knees, and tugged on my shorts. "Please?" he asked, his eyes looking up at me like a puppy. "Fuck yeah," I heard myself say. "Mmmm" he voiced his approval, and slowly pulled my shorts down, allowing my cock to finally break free from its confinement. As soon as the elastic band of my shorts moved far enough, my cock bounced out, standing straight up, and some pre flung out and hit him on his chin. "Wow, you're already leaking," he said, then used his finger to wipe his chin and licked it. "Sweet," he said. And then he didn't waste any time. He immediately popped the head of my cock into his mouth and used his tongue to run around my tip. My whole body was filled with electric pleasure, and the tingling was running through every fiber of my body. "Ohhh god..." I moaned, and I felt myself getting hornier. My cock literally felt like it was growing harder with each passing second, and the feeling of his tongue flitting around the head of my cock was astronomical. It left me bereft. My moaning signaled him to turn up his sucking a few notches. He slowly took more of me into his mouth, sliding his lips down my shaft centimeter by centimeter. His tongue expanded its domain, running all over, and he had his hands gripping the backs of my legs, squeezing and massaging them. To be completely honest, that was making it feel so much better. "Unnghhfuck," I moaned, feeling the cum welling up within my balls, the pressure building. My whole body was tingling in the same way it was last time, and I knew I was going to grow again. I needed to cum. I flexed my dick, feeling it throb hard, and my pleasurer could surely feel my dick pulsing. He sucked harder and harder, even emitting some slurping noises. "Ohhh god, fuck!" I exclaimed. The pressure was reaching its peak, and I could tell I would cum any second. "UNNGHH" I grunted, as the pressure breached its containment threshold. "I'm cumming!" I yelled, and I felt the fine sensation of cum shooting into my shaft, and then out of my tip. It was strong and forceful, and my dick throbbed hard with each shot, swelling just a tiny bit each time. He took every shot in his mouth, spilling none, and gulped loudly as he swallowed all of it. To be honest, though, I wasn't all too concerned with my orgasm. Yeah, it felt amazing, but I was almost shaking with excitement for the aftermath. After my fourth shot, I figured I was done and gently pushed him off my dick. I wanted to see myself grow. He looked surprised as hell when I pushed him away, but I wasn't concerned right now, and I had a feeling he wouldn't be either in a moment. "Watch what you just did to me," I said, before he could protest what I did. I felt it welling up within me. I walked over to the mirror, a new girth and weight in my crotch as my dick swung between my legs oozing cum onto the floor. He looked confused as hell when I saw his face in the mirror. I smirked, and focused my attention my body. I stood there, relaxed, watching my entire body. It was still a shock to see my newly toned body from the growth that already occurred. My chest was heaving and my heart was pounding, and I couldn't tell if that was an effect of my excitement or if it was the reaction taking place within my body. "Ohhhh fuuuuuck," I moaned, and I felt like my entire body was experiencing an orgasm as I watched all of my muscles swell bigger. My pecs visibly grew and pushed out from my chest, my slight cleavage becoming more of a valley. My abs clenched and tightened, and I watched as six bricks etched deeper into my stomach. My legs thickened, and it felt incredible to feel my thighs touch each other. I flexed them and watched my quads burst into definition, heads of muscle visible when before, I'd have assumed I had no muscle at all in my legs. "Holy shit," I heard from behind me. I saw his face in the mirror and it was of pure astonishment. He almost looked fearful. "Yeah--ungghhh--get a good look, I'm still--grnnn--growinggggg," I managed to get out before I felt my arms involuntarily flex and pulse, and I watched as they grew slightly bigger and thicker with each heartbeat. Veins were coursing over my arms, and I clenched my fists and watched my forearms thicken and swell into the arms you'd see on a real gym-rat. The kind you'd see on a guy and you'd just KNOW he was strong. "Ohhhfuck yeah, fuuuck yeahhhhh..." The words came out of my mouth but I wasn't even thinking them. The sensation in my arms was overwhelming my senses, and my favorite muscles were growing. Biceps are the mark of dominance and power, and mine were growing. I watched my biceps throbbing bigger with each pump of my heart, thickening and growing. And then I saw my arms angling more outward from my body, and I realized my lats had been swelling a little bigger. It was astonishing even for me to see how my arms didn't just hang at my sides, they were angled out now. FUCK. And my shoulders swelled up some, too, widening with my lats, and I now had obvious traps, eliminating that "pencil-neck" appearance I once had. "SHIT! This is so hot!" I heard my cocksucker exclaim, and I noticed he was standing now, watching me in the mirror intently. His dick was standing straight up. I turned around and looked him right in the eye. "You like this?" I asked, standing there with my chest heaving from my heavy breaths. I gestured at my own body, completely nude. He nodded rapidly, and I saw his eyes darting from body part to body part. His dick was oozing precum. "How about this?" I asked, and made my pecs jump and bounce. FUCK! I could never do that before. Again, he nodded rapidly. I flexed my legs, next, and they once again exploded into definition, and my quads were impressively bulging. I couldn't wait to try on some old shorts to see how they fit me, now. "You like muscle? Well, watch THIS," I said, then flexed my arms into a double-bicep pose, and I felt this immense power as I did it. I felt fucking strong as hell. "Fuck yeah!" And then I watched him shut his eyes, his body shuddered, and his little dick exploded cum all over the floor. He didn't shoot very much, but he definitely came. "Ohhhhgodnngggh" he moaned. I dropped my arms and chuckled. "Okay, well, I hope you enjoyed the show, dude, but I got other things to do, so here are your clothes--" I handed him his clothes, "--and I will see you around!" and I guided him out of my room and shut the door. I went back over to my mirror and couldn't believe what I saw. I was so much bigger than before. I was almost huge. My arms were hot. So hot. I loved biceps, and I really wanted to see if I could rip through some sleeves. "Fuck yeah," I said to myself, as I imagined the ways I was going to enjoy my new body.