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      Help contribute, donate via PayPal or join with a monthly Patreon contribution.   01/01/17

      To help raise funds I've introduced a monthly contribution option called Pateron. This service allows you to pledge a monthly contribution plus allows me to offer you some rewards for your contribution. If you have any questions you may PM me. If you'd like to make that contribution please click on the image below:      
    • CMiller

      NEWS: Discord Server & Clubs (aka Groups) are back!   08/20/17

      Hello everyone I'm back with a couple big updates! Firstly we now have a Discord server, this is a real-time chat messaging client you can run on your phone, desktop, or anywhere. It's a pretty powerful desktop application that enables people to chat together, and with multiple channels you can find people interested in what you're interested in. If you don't already have a Discord account it's pretty easy to get one, just click the following invite link to get started: https://discord.gg/gc3JBYh Secondly I'm proud to announce the return of Groups, it's been renamed to Clubs and is now available here: https://muscle-growth.org/clubs/. This system is entirely user generated and allows users to create groups of their own based on any subject they want. Go ahead and try it now, visit the link above to get started if you want to create or join a group!   As always thank you to all of our donators and Patreon contributors who keep the forums going! 

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  1. 24 points
    Cheaters Never Prosper By: JadeDragon For Xyggurat, the light of my muscle-theft life... P.S. Please finish “The Trainer.” Also sorry everyone if I'm a little rusty. Begin... It all started out so innocently, just another day in the gym. "Hey, Conrad. You wanna make a bet?" Mike, my longtime workout partner, set down his dumbbells. I cast a sidelong glance at his pumped bicep, an orb of power stretching the taut fabric of his Underarmour shirt. The bright overhead lights cast a tiny shadow along the vein that snaked under his tanned skin. "A bet? About what?" I finished my own set, lagging just slightly behind Mike. I grin ruefully, just slightly behind Mike had been the tune of our friendship since college. "Well I'm not going to see you for a whole year, bro." Mike said, pulling out his earbuds to hear me better over the clanging weights in the gym. "That hotel management gig in San Cristobal is going to take you away for a full three-hundred and sixty-five." Mike wiped sweat from his brow, the former college athlete had kept his star physique in the five years since graduating. His shirt hugged his thick pecs, wide lats and tight waist in all the right ways. If anything, he had improved since then, having quit the keggers we used to frequent. I snuck an appreciative look at his rounded ass as he bent down to pick up his clipboard and record his set. "Without me to kick your ass in gear, you'd probably still be that beer-bellied fratboy," Mike laughs poking my now chiselled six-pack abs with his pencil. "How am I gonna make sure you don't come back a fatty and I'll have to start from scratch with you? I'll tell you how, with a bet." I rub my taut stomach as Mike begins his next set. "And what will I be betting?" "A trip to Hawaii. Whoever shows up having made the most progress in the coming year wins." Mike said, and from the way he said it he felt assured even now he would be the winner. The pair of weights in his strong hands moving up and down, mechanically with flawless form. I would hate to admit it, but seeing Mike work out was rather distracting. My eyes drift to the eggplant stretching out the crotch of his compression shorts... yeah, distracting. "OK, so what is 'progress' then?" I ask, feeling suspicious. "Yeah, I guess we need a good benchmark." Mike set down the weights again and scratched his stubbled chin. "Whoever can put on the most muscle in a year is the winner, then." “The most muscle in a year?” I repeat, thinking. Mike and I were both advanced lifters, gaining muscle at this point was a slow process. Still, it seemed perfectly doable to beat Mike. He just assumed I couldn't do it without him to goad me along. San Cristobal was all beaches and tropical paradise, I'd have plenty of motivation to look better without my shirt on. “All right, you're on!” I say, grabbing Mike's calloused palm and shaking it firmly. Mike pulled me in a little closer. “But before you go, I'll have to give you a proper sendoff.” Mike's deep voice was kept low, but still somehow cut through the ambient noise straight to my cock. My breath caught in my throat as I felt my member stiffen, and I glanced downward at his own rapidly hardening dick. Mike's thick salami snaking down his pumped up quad, stretching the fabric around its girth. I gulped, imagining it stretching something else. Later... Mike returned to his apartment after another tepid workout. He flopped onto his couch, feeling angry with himself for failing to do anything in the gym but go through the motions. As much as he hated to admit it, without an audience he felt no need to put on a show, to really push himself. “All this time I thought I was kicking Conrad's butt into gear,” Mike groused. But now he knew the truth. He dragged him along to have a captive audience, the glances Conrad thought Mike didn't see pushed him to show off and improve. It made ploughing his friend's tight ass all the sweeter, that Conrad couldn't keep his eyes or hands off of him. Curious for the first time in six months how Conrad's life was going in San Cristobal, Mike flipped open his MacBook and Facebook-stalked his fuck buddy. This was, as it turns out, where everything started to go wrong. “What the?!” Mike's voice was incredulous, Conrad's photo albums were filled with pictures of pristine white beaches and himself. But it wasn't the same old Conrad, he was clearly bigger and more cut than before! There were pictures of Conrad eating food, hashtag “CleanEating,” working out in the hotel gym, walking shirtless down boardwalks, visiting some local curio shop. Mike gulped, his friend's six pack clearly etching its way to an eight. His arms were bigger, harder and more defined, he had definitely been making the requisite effort needed in the gym to win their little wager. Mike adjusted his dick in his shorts and felt a cold trickle down the back of his neck. Not only did it turn out he needed Conrad to get anywhere in the gym, Conrad didn't need him at all. Mike gulped... then felt the acid in his stomach congeal into a hard lump. Was this... jealousy? He had to win, at any cost. He had always been better than Conrad, paying for him to go to another tropical paradise was a humiliation he couldn't bear. He pulled out his phone and dialed an old number from college. There had been a guy in their frat-house who could get him what he needed... “Hey, Craig, it's Mike. Yeah, long time no see. Remember how you said you owed me that favour?” Poor decisions... Mike struggled to put on his workout shirt, the stretchy fabric threatening to tear in the attempt to contain his massive torso. It had been brand-new just a month ago, but he had already outgrown it. He felt like Hercules, no, like a full-fledged god! Mike tossed the useless shirt aside and flexed in the change room mirror, the cold tiles against his bare feet and a towel wrapped around his thicker waist. Craig had delivered all right, premium steroids, and they showed. His half-assed workouts didn't matter, Mike just couldn't stop growing. Mike's already thick physique had ballooned with fresh muscle mass in record time. His pecs had jutted out farther, his arms pumping up beyond their original impressive 19 inches to a ridiculous pair of 22s. Titanic and thick, they were no longer comfortable in regular shirtsleeves and Mike had gone without sleeves for the last couple of months. The width of his lats and the breadth of his back made every shirt chafe against his skin, they were all too fucking tight. “Fucking hell...” Mike said, marvelling in his newfound size. “Why didn't I do this sooner?” His traps had crawled up his neck as they grew especially fast, his delts rounding out. He had gained well over 30 pounds since he started and he saw no end in sight. For sure, the steroids had done other things to his physique. His waist was no longer quite so tight as his obliques and abs had grown larger under the doses of 'roids he'd been jabbing his now globular ass cheeks with. And his skin on his chest and upper back wasn't quite as clear and unmarked as it once was... “But once I win, I'll be able to get off the gear, clear up a bit and still be this fucking huge.” Mike said as he grinned, he was going to win the bet! He let the towel drop, his pumped, defined quads even managing to draw some attention away from his thick nine-inch cock hard and bobbing between his legs. He wrapped his meaty paws around the shaft and began to stroke, not caring someone could walk in. Mike felt untouchable! He wasn't... I sat admiring the sunset, the sweet taste of liquor on my tongue as I drank from a hollowed-out pineapple. Tomorrow I was headed back home. While working in San Cristobal had been a dream come true, I was glad to see my friends and family again soon. I felt good about my little wager with Mike, I had eaten clean and worked hard the last year. My pecs had hardened, my arms had gained an inch and my admittedly pretty-rocking six pack had refined into an eight-pack. I ran a strong hand down my tight midsection, fifteen pounds of muscle from all that hard work and dedication. A far cry from the beer-toting fratboy I once was. I was sure I was going to win this time, finally. My phone vibrated, and I opened the text. “Hey, Conrad. It's Craig, remember me from college? A few months ago, I got a call from Mike saying he wanted 'roids. I didn't ask what he wanted them for, but I heard him bragging in the gym last night about winning a bet with you on who could get bigger in a year. Sorry, I didn't mean to help him cheat. I owed him one when his dad buried my DUI.” I felt a prickle of rage bubble up under my skin, I didn't want to believe it. I checked out Mike's social media and felt rage become disgust as I saw all the posing and flexing pictures. He was clearly on steroids, the added mass distributed itself on him like he was some pumped-up body-builder waiting to get oiled up for competition. I heard the plastic case around my phone crack in my powerful grip and I realised I was shaking with the intensity of my anger. I swallowed, the liquor no longer quite so sweet on my tongue as the bile of my rage flushed my whole body. Sure, I could call him out on his cheating... but my whole year of dedication and effort felt wasted. I could've done nothing and still won if he was just going to 'roid up and cheat in order to disqualify himself. Hell, we hadn't even made any rules about it, Mike could argue I still owed him his trip to Hawaii. He had clearly gained much more than 15 pounds of muscle. I worked my ass off, and I still failed. Again... My skin was now numb to the warm glow of the sunset and the tropical breeze. I looked back at the board walk, a vague memory flickering in the back of my mind. That old man who ran the curio shop. He had said some... uncanny things about my bet without me even having to tell him. I had laughed it off at the time, but now? I looked down at my phone, the text glaring at me. What did I have to lose? Everything to gain... Mike swaggered into the gym, his inflated lats pushing his arms up constantly so they were held at an angle. The fact so much meat had been packed onto his frame so fast that he was unused to so many bulging muscles constantly touching other ones made him hard all the fucking time! It was late, and the gym was all but deserted. One lone guy was using the squat rack but besides him it was the chipper receptionist manning the front desk and that was it. This was around the time that Conrad said his flight was going to be landing. Then he saw him, waiting by the change room doors. “Hey little buddy.” Mike said, all of his cockiness oozing off of him like a bad cologne. “Wow, Mike. You got huge.” Conrad was looking fine, he had grown and gained a killer tan from San Cristobal. His toned body wearing the extra muscle-mass beautifully, he could be a Men's Health cover model. A slight tinge of guilt twinged through Mike's heart, but he brushed it aside. Losing to Conrad would've set the cosmic balance of the universe off-kilter. Mike was always better than his little buddy, always. “I guess you've won our wager.” Conrad said, smiling ruefully. “Yeah, lots of hard work this last year.” Mike flexed his arm, the bulging bowling ball leaping up under his skin into a mountain of pure power. He cast a glance at Conrad, his board shorts now clearly tenting as he gazed at Mike with an unfamiliar hunger in his eyes. Conrad came closer, his hand reaching up to grasp Mike's massive arm. Even with his newfound strength, Conrad's fingers barely dented the muscle as he squeezed. The contact sent Mike's dick into overdive, blood rapidly flooding his groin making him fully hard instantly. “Jesus man, you got so fucking hot...” Mike whispered, thinking of only Conrad's tight hole. “And you got fucking massive,” Conrad said, looking Mike up and down like a cut of meat. Conrad was fingering some weird little totem on a hemp-rope necklace. Mike felt a little wigged, Conrad was acting very odd. Conrad squeezed Mike's bicep harder, sending another shudder of pleasure through his body. “Let's fuck, meathead.” He said. Mike gulped, and could only nod as Conrad led him back into the change room. His feet moved almost of their own accord, and Conrad locked the door behind them as a sanguine grin spread across his face. “Conrad... you seem... different.” Mike breathed. “What...?” Conrad cut him off, his hand wrapping around the back of Mike's head as he shoved his tongue into his slack mouth. Mike's massive arms instinctively embraced the smaller man's frame, holding him close as the two ground their hard-ons against one another. Mike felt bizarre, it wasn't like he hadn't had sex since seeing Conrad last. But having him against his body now was like being pressed against an electric current of pleasure. Every touch felt more urgent, every thrust against his crotch was like his every sense was heightened beyond the merely human. His thick, meaty pecs pressing against Conrad's, the feel of his breath against his throat. It all felt electric, his heart fluttering like he was some virgin making out for the first time. Mike's head begin to spin, it was almost like he wasn't getting enough air. He staggered, and broke physical contact with Conrad. “H-holy shit...” Mike gasped as a wave of weakness washed over him, causing a slight tremble in his massive frame. Only... it wasn't quite so massive. Even at a cursory glance in the change room mirror, Mike could see his muscles had deflated, losing thickness and symmetry. Not a tremendous amount, only a month of progress in the gym. But fear crept into his heart, along with the overwhelming haze of horniness that smothered his instinct to run. He looked to Conrad, and his cock throbbed in response at what he had become. Tear down the mighty... Mike stood there, dumbstruck like the horny meathead he had proven to be. Already, I could see that he had diminished from that brief contact. His mighty pecs weren't jutting out as far, and his swollen quads weren't threatening to shred his compression shorts. “What's the matter big man? Intimidated?” I said, feeling the talisman's power coursing through my body. I shot Mike's signature cocky grin back at him and flexed. My shirt, already tight, was now painted onto my chest. You could see my nipples through the thin, strained fabric and I could hear seams popping around my lats and shoulders as I pumped my muscles in a classic double-bi. The process that tore Mike's drug-induced muscle away didn't seem to affect its distribution on my own body. The pounds I stole applied themselves perfectly, maintaining my flawless proportions I naturally worked so hard for. “This... this is...” Mike stuttered as I stepped forward and put my hand up his looser shirt, pressing my wide palm against his strong abs. He shivered in pleasure at my touch, but didn't try and back away. “Impossible?” I said, feeling the process restart. I could feel Mike's muscles, the power and mass they contained. With just a touch, I could hook my own body into that circuit and syphon away all his ill-gotten gains. Mike's eyes rolled in his head as I continued to drain him. I reached out, shoving my free hand in his slackened waistband and grabbed his hard cock. It throbbed with the beating of his heart, and the thick meat jumped in my firm grip as I stroked him. “Guh... fuck...” Mike could only moan in response. Despite his (though dwindling) size advantage over me he was powerless to resist. Just like the old man had said... “No... this isn't enough.” I let go of Mike, letting him stagger against a blue-painted locker. He gulped down air like a man after a hard workout. I could even see sweat beading on his forehead as I grinned. “P-please... I'm...” Mike stuttered, trying to catch his breath. “Sorry? Fucking please. You took steroids to beat me in a stupid bet. Don't even try to deny it, Craig told me everything.” I said, as I grabbed Mike's shirt and pulled it up over his head. The fabric, which once struggled to contain Mike's thick upper-body now had some slack and was easy enough to remove. “You couldn't stand the thought I could actually beat you. You had to be on top, the winner, the best all the fucking time even if you didn't really work for it.” I said, anger roiling off me like waves. Mike didn't resist as I started to pull down his shorts and his jockstrap, leaving him naked and hard. I eyed him up and down, thinking of all the mass I was going to gain from him. And if the legends were true, maybe more than just his muscles. “You don't deserve what you have. You've been sitting atop your pedestal for too long. So I'm going to knock you down.” I turned him around so Mike could see his reflection. His outline still mostly eclipsed me in the mirror, but that was going to change. I unbuttoned my shorts and fished out my cock. I was already harder than I had ever been before, so I was more than ready for what I was about to do. I parted his round, firm ass cheeks for ready access to his asshole. “Oh, I'm going to fuck you smaller, Mike. You're going to watch as all that juiced-up mass you packed on your body is sucked right out of you and into me.” I said, pushing my thick cock head against Mike's virgin hole. “You're going to make me fucking huge.” With a strong shove, I penetrated his tight ass, the hot space sending my cock into overdrive. I could feel the process restarting, even more potent than just touching his muscles. “Payback's a fucking bitch, Mike.” I breathed in his ear. Mike could only groan in response, as I syphoned his mass away. I peered over his shoulder, wanting nothing more to watch the jock lose everything. His massive pecs were flattening, losing thickness and roundness. With each passing breath contracting them a bit smaller than the last. His thick delts rippled and shrank beneath the weight of the totem's effect, narrowing his triangular shape. Biceps that once appeared to put melons to shame softened and shrank, no longer hard as marble but getting puffier as they dwindled in size and power. All while I fucked him, my balls slapped against his shrinking asscheeks, his eight-pack abs softening and becoming a six-pack. He was rapidly running out of his 'roided bodymass, quickly reverting to his former dimensions. I tightened my growing arms around his narrowing chest as I fucked him harder, feeling his tight ass on my cock set my senses alight with pleasure. And every pound of muscle I sucked out of him only added fuel to the fire. The changes that I wrought in Mike, the opposite was happening to me. As I purposefully left my clothes on, the fabric was rapidly losing the battle of trying to constrain my ever-accelerating growth. My back gained breadth, my chest width, all over my frame was packing on purloined muscle at a prodigious rate. One deep breath, and the sides of my shirt split open, I flexed my chest and arms and the fabric exploded into ribbons. The cotton was destroyed as if it were the most delicate tissue, and I pressed my hardening pecs against Mike's softening back. “Feel that, Mike? I'm getting fucking huge off of you!” I nearly shouted, the venom of my rage spitting in my voice as I taunted him. Mike's eyes couldn't seem to take in both his shrinking mass and my own growing body, flitting to my reflection then back to his. My shorts quickly met the same fate as my ass grew, my quads giving one strong flex to obliterate my boardshorts. Only my jockstrap remained, and even though my cock was pulled out of it, it too was going to break from the demands of trying to contain me. I shoved Mike against the mirror, and he put out his hands to stop from getting crushed against the cold glass. “C-Conrad... stop... I'm getting smaller!” Mike's voice became pleading as he felt himself shrinking yet more, as he saw the gleam in my eye that showed him what I had decided from the start. “Oh, no Mike. You're going to get much smaller, bro. Much, much smaller.” I wrapped my growing hands around Mike's wrists, and continued to fuck him. He was getting exactly what was coming to him... Death of a god... Mike couldn't believe what was happening to him. Conrad had already fucked him out of the last six months of gains from the steroids he took. But as he felt his former friend's insistent fucking increase in pace, even as he shrunk to his former size, he suddenly knew Conrad was going to take it all. “C-Conrad... stop... I'm getting smaller!” Mike's voice rang out, and even now he couldn't bring his body to resist. Conrad's hands gripped Mike and held him tightly, as he felt him fuck him even harder. But now that strange energy that wound its way through his body seemed to be going even deeper. Mike's muscles continued to contract, collapsing in on themselves. He could no longer support Conrad's growing weight and fell forward against the cold mirror. Mike felt the space between himself and the mirror diminish as his pecs continued to flatten, his arms shrinking below their former 19 inches, 17 inches, 16 inches. His six-pack abs softening to a four-pack, and even less as Conrad fucked the size out of him. “Oh... oh god... my... cock...” Mike choked out as he felt his proud nine-inch dick begin to recede as well, the sensitive skin sliding against the glass as it shrunk to eight and a half inches, eight inches, smaller and smaller. His heavy balls were deflating in their sack, pulling closer to his body as Conrad took it from him. Mike's cock wasn't the only thing changing, his frame shrank as his bones lost length and density. His once-broad body falling in on itself as he got shorter, he saw Conrad's head matching his own in height, then shooting above him. The whole room seemed to be growing larger in relation to him, with the hot, muscled body against Mike's back growing the fastest. Conrad's cock, getting bigger and bigger in Mike's shrinking ass made each thrust feel infinitely deeper than the last. It was becoming ever-more painful as Conrad's cock became larger and larger. But even the pain burned with pleasure... As Mike's muscles softened and shrank, his increasingly bony body felt Conrad's hardened muscles that wrapped around him even more. Mike felt like he was impaled on a living statue, the Farnese Hercules which also was fucking his daylights out. Mike struggled to stand on his toes, he was getting so short and Conrad so tall he couldn't keep his feet on the ground as the massive man fucked him. His ass was now much too small now to handle a dick as huge as the one Conrad now had, but despite himself he only wanted it even deeper inside of him. “That's right little man... you want this...” Conrad's voice was deep, resonating out of the massive sounding board that was his chest. He was biting his lip, he was getting very close... It taunted Mike because he could feel the truth welling up inside, this behemoth who had torn his old self away and left him with nothing but a shrinking body and a growing need. A need as dear as air to see him grow even bigger! “I need... oh fuck... Conrad... bigger... get bigger!” The words stole out of Mike's mouth like thieves in the night, as he began to ride Conrad's dick as well as he could. Mike relished each thrust as he was lifted off his feet and used like a ragdoll, a tight fucktoy wrapped around a cock too large for it to contain. Mike's ass felt like it was going to split from being wedged on Conrad's cock but he could barely bring himself to care. “Bigger!” Conrad moaned as his voice deepened still further. Mike groaned in response, and his voice cracked once, then again as the last vestiges of his testosterone were sucked out his ass, the hair on his chest and abs all but gone as well. His formerly massive guns had dwindled down to thin, soft and shapeless noodles barely 10 inches in circumference and his once-mighty legs were twigs. He didn't even have a skinny six-pack, his midsection was just soft, empty of mass and power. He couldn't have been more than five feet tall. And like a broken dam, Conrad could no longer hold himself back. “FUCK!!!” His roar echoed through the empty change room like an avalanche, the sound of it cracking a mirror as he bellowed like a bull elephant. Mike felt the pressure in his ass increase, though it seemed impossible as Conrad's thick, veiny cock erupted into it, pumping wad after wad of hot load into the tight space. In moments Mike's ass was completely full, and the cum overflowed, hot rivulets of jizz spurted from Mike's overloaded ass all down his legs and Conrad's massive rod. After eternity the two of them decoupled, and Mike all but collapsed. He felt... hollow and used. His ass was incredibly sore and still oozing cum as he struggled to find the strength to move. He managed to lift his head, only to gaze into the face of the divine. Birth of a Titan... I breathed in, and out. It felt different, everything felt different. The room now seemed comically tiny, as did the man who cowered at my feet like a mouse before a lion. No, a gnat before a dragon! I could barely see him past the shelf of my pecs, and he seemed unimportant. At least less so than the reflection in the mirror. My height had exceeded seven feet, and I couldn't even hazard a guess to how wide I was. At least two normal men standing side by side could still be comfortably shielded by the breadth of my new body. My lats spread like wings, and my quads wider than a man's waist. I brought an arm to flex, and marvelled at the mountain that grew, harder than stone and mightier than any mere mortal. My tanned skin wrapped around pure, dense power. Despite cumming what felt like gallons into Mike's ass, my cock was hard and at attention, longer and thicker than a man's forearm. I had taken his 'roided mass and refined it into utter perfection. A vision of divinity itself... “So,” I said in a voice that rolled like thunder over mountains. “It seems that I have one last score to settle.” “Please... don't...” Mike scurried underfoot, now utterly free to resist now that he was physically incapable of resisting. But I didn't crush him, nor try to take anything more. There wasn't much left, to be honest. His once broad features had become depressingly narrow. His pockmarked skin and shapeless body made him look like a scrawny man who got all the zits of puberty but none of the muscle along with it. I rifled around the destroyed remains of my shorts and pulled out the crumpled plane ticket and tossed it carelessly onto the floor in front of my once-friend and gym partner. “You won the bet, Mike. Have fun at the beach.” I turned, my mind now turning toward my future. “W-wait!” Mike's voice squeaked out like a rodent under stress. “You... you can't leave me like this!” “Oh Mike, didn't anyone ever tell you?” I said, turning his old shiteating grin on him as I tore the spa locker open like tinfoil and pulled on a tight white robe. I unlocked the change room door and said: “Cheaters never prosper.” END.
  2. 24 points
    Once classes started, Danny realized just how much he stood out in the Chemical Engineering department. He outweighed even the biggest of the guys by more than 200lbs of muscle. He saw how they looked at him, some with awe, some with feigned disgust. He was used to the disgust from high school, but now, he reveled in the awe. He realized right away that the TA of one of his labs was one of the awe-struck. The guy was a grad student, so he wasn't much older than Danny, andDanny saw how he looked at him, sneaking furtive glances whenever he could. Danny played on that awe. He stayed after one of the labs ended, because he had a plan. He was hoping that the TA would help him figure out what was in the Black Russian supps that Ivan was getting from eastern Europe. When Danny approached him, Ted, the TA, could barely speak. Danny introduced himself and put out his hand. When they shook, Danny's big muscle paw completely enveloped the TA's soft little hand. The grad student was about 5'5", 140lbs. When Danny grinned down at him, the little guy's knees gave out a little. Danny propped him up against the lab table. Then he got right to the point, pulling out a black pill and asking him how hard it would be to figure out what was in it. The TA took the pill and looked it over. "Probably not very hard," he said. "If I used the mass spectrometer, it would break it down to its components. I'm not supposed to use the equipment for things like that though." "What if we snuck into the lab after classes?" Danny flexed his 24" arm. "We could spend as much time in the lab as you want." The TA gulped hard. "I don't know," he said nervously. Danny, bouncing his 72" chest under his tight tee, said "I'd let you touch." The grad student almost fainted. He looked around the room. "You want to do it tonight?" he said. "I can probably snag the keys from the professor's office." His heart was pounding thru his chest at the thought of being with Danny alone in the lab. "Sounds good," said Danny, running his hand thru his hair, causing his huge arm to bunch up into a big ball. "Oh my god," groaned the young grad student. Danny's powerful pheromones wafted out from his armpit. "You have a poser?" asked the TA, tentatively, bracing himself against the lab table. "Yep," said Danny, reaching out and rubbing his hand along Ted's thin neck. "Would you wear it?" asked Ted, his eye twitching, and goosebumps running up and down his limbs. "Sure. What time tonight?" "Eleven o'clock. The last lab ends at ten." "Ok. Then I'll lift from eight to ten thirty, to maximize my pump." "You're not pumped now?..." The TA's boner was tenting out his white lab coat. "God, no. Just wait till you see. Everything will be inches bigger. I can bloat my quads from 34" to 38" after just two sets of heavy squatting." "....38 inches..." stammered Ted. "Yep. What is that, like ten inches bigger than your waist?" "Yess...." Danny grinned. "I'll see you tonight at eleven, then. Don't pop one out till then, little man." He turned and walked away, as Ted stared in amazement at the size of Danny's back, shoulders, neck, ass, and legs. ... == ... Dwayne's fight night was at a medium sized auditorium downtown. A lot of the guys fighting were amateurs like him, but there were a couple sanctioned fights scheduled for later on the ticket. Dwayne's fight was first. It was his opponent's first real fight too. Dwayne sized him up as they stepped into the octagon they'd set up for the night. The guy was in his early twenties, good build, but nothing overly impressive. He looked like the kind of guy who'd played sports in high school but was never a standout, but had a lot of spunk. He looked a little nervous, especially as he saw Dwayne, who's muscularity was at least 5 times more dense than his. Dwayne didn't have to clench his abs for them to stand out as a taut 8pak. Dwayne saw his opponent looking over at a young woman in the audience. She was a tiny thing, about his age, and looked about 7 months pregnant. The wife, figured Dwayne. He could tell she wasn't thrilled about hubby getting into the ring against him. The fight got started, and it was quickly obvious to everyone that it was a big mismatch. The guy's punches bounced off Dwayne, and Dwayne felt nothing, so he let the guy pound on him for awhile. Then he hit back. His jabs were many times faster than his opponent's, too, but he took care not to punch too hard. He could see the wife flinch every time he hit him. He had to end this one quickly, so he knocked the guy to the ground, got on him, and put him into a choke hold. He pulled the guy close into him, and whispered in his ear as he tightened the choke ever so gently. "Do yourself a favor, and give up fighting, man. You're just gonna get hurt. A guy like me could mess you up bad. Go get a regular job, support your wife and kid." With that, Dwayne tightened his grip just enough to make the pain real to the guy. He turned the guy's face so that he was looking at his wife, and could see her concern. The guy was starting to panic. Dwayne was so strong that it was surreal. He easily flipped the guy around and put him in an arm bar, forcing him to tap instantly. Dwayne helped the guy to his feet, and they shook hands. Dwayne looked over at the wife, and saw the relief on her face. When their eyes met, Dwayne winked at her, and she felt a wave of lust race thru her hormonally flushed body. He was the hottest man she'd ever seen, and she knew he had saved her husband from any real damage, so she blamed her feelings for him on that. Meanwhile, her husband came over to her from the octagon, and hugged her. "I'm done with the fighting," he said, and the wife gave a small wave of thanks to Dwayne. He nodded back. Then he noticed Mr K sitting a couple rows behind her, the same look of lust on his face. This made Dwayne horny, but his gym manager, who was now his fight manager, was talking to him. "That wasn't much of a challenge for you, was it?" he said, laughing. "Nah, man. Just got me all riled up, is all." Dwayne was still looking over at Mr K, hungrily. "Well, I might have good news for you. A guy dropped out of one of the sanctioned fights that's coming up next week. They need a replacement. I volunteered you." "Yeah?" said Dwayne, suddenly interested. "Who'm I fighting?" "This guy Tommy Bell. He's in your weight class, and is 11-0." "Oh yeh? So I'll be breaking his undefeated record?" "You could be. He's pretty tough though. Has been in and out of prison, and has won every fight by KO." "Next week, huh? Gives me time to get even stronger and faster," said Dwayne. He was getting hard just thinking about beating a guy with an 11-0 record. His muscles tightened and rippled in anticipation of what he would do. His manager got goosebumps watching Dwayne's body improve as they stood there. "I gotta go for now, man," Dwayne said to him. Then he made his way over to Mr K, leaned over him and whispered to him, "Let's go somewhere, Mr K. I need some sweet relief from that mouth of yours." Mr K couldn't get up fast enough. He followed Dwayne to the backstage area, where Dwayne broke into an office by snapping the door handle off and forcing the door open with his shoulder. "This oughta do," he said, leading Mr K over to a sofa that lined the wall. As soon as Mr K sat down, Dwayne pulled down his trunks and his big schlong flopped out. He stroked himself a couple of time. "Fuck, I need it bad," he said, as he guided his big dickhead into Mr K's eager mouth. "Did you see me fight that guy down?" Dwayne asked. Mr K nodded as he sucked. "That was just child's play, man. Wait till next week. Fuck, you got a good mouth, Mr K. Funny, cause I remember growing up, how you were always dating those big tittied women, and you were all macho and shit. Now look at you, sucking on me like a newborn calf. You like it, too, don't ya?" Mr K nodded again, still sucking Dwayne's thick knob. He couldn't believe it himself. He'd always been into women. But he couldn't resist Dwayne. And he couldn't get enough of him. He understood addiction now. All he wanted was to service him, to touch his body, smell him, taste him. And Dwayne knew it. "You wanna see me fight again next week?" Dwayne said. "Maybe if you're real good to me, I'll let you come." He flexed his arms over Mr K. "Aw, yeah," he said. "I got a huge load about to fill you up, been feeling my balls churning it out all day." Dwayne tilted his head back, and bucked into Mr K's face. Mr K had never wanted anything more than Dwayne's thick muscle paste. And Dwayne gave it to him, spewing so hard he had to put his hand on the back of Mr K's head to keep his mouth in place. Mr K did his best to swallow the hot nectar the god before him. He did pretty good, considering how much volume there was. Dwayne pulled his head off him. "You sure are hungry for this aren't ya?" Dwayne chuckled, remembering how Mr K had always thought of him as such a dork. Dwayne lifted Mr K up to his face and kissed him. He liked the taste of his jiz in Mr K's mouth, it tasted like cotton candy. No wonder the old guy like it. Mr K almost fainted from the hot young buck tonguing his mouth. Dwayne thought about how he'd gone from goofy dork to supremely handsome and supremely strong. He kissed Mr K deeper, the older man's feet dangling off the ground. Dwayne chuckled to himself as he felt Mr K cum in his pants. His own hardon had gotten even harder. He rested Mr K down on it, and it supported him in the air. "Goddam," said Dwayne after he broke the kiss. "I better head out for tonight, before I decide to ride your ass into the next century." He lifted Mr K up and set him on the desk of the office they were in. As he got dressed, he said, "I'll see you next week at the fight." Then he headed out. Mr K watched him leave. His heart pounded with lust. Next week? Could he last that long without a Dwayne fix? ...===... That night at the lab, Ted was unable to completely decipher what the small black pill was made up of. "We'll have to do more tests," he told Danny, fearful that it would mean that his massive student wouldn't showoff his huge body for him. But Danny didn't care. He was pumped to the max, and was aching to flex anyway. He sat Ted down on a lab chair before stripping down to his poser. "No touching yourself until you find the formula," he said to Ted. Then he flexed his arm an inch away from Ted's nose. It rose up over 25". "Kiss it," said Danny. Ted swallowed hard, then put his lips on the mountain of muscle in his face. Sweat ran down from Danny's deep pits. He smelled of gym and muscle and his own thick musk. "Stop for a second," cried Ted, pulling back from the beast-sized arm. He had to close his eyes for a bit. His heart was beating so fast. He was just starting to get hard, yet he'd almost cum. "Oh, there's no stopping this now, bud," said Danny. "Touch it." And he grabbed Ted's hand on put it on his arm. "Oh god," muttered Ted. Then Danny grabbed the seat of the lab chair, and curled it off the ground until they were face to face. "Oh my fucking god," said Ted. Danny curled him in the chair for reps. Then he sat him down and flexed a double bi shot. Ted's eyes were wide opened now, although one eyelid was twitching at the sight of Danny's massiveness so close to him. He was leaking pre, and it took everything he had not to touch himself. Then Danny turned around, and spread his back. His vast, grand prairie sized back, rolling with thick slabs of muscle that tapered down to his beefy lower back, padded with striations of symmetrical muscle. He made them pop out in a hard flex, and Ted came. There was no stopping it. Ted had no control. His muscle lust took him zooming into a zone of euphoria. Danny spread his back out farther, and Ted fainted, sliding right out of the chair. Danny turned and caught him right before he hit the floor. "Dude, wake up man," said Danny, slapping Ted's face lightly. Ted woke up quickly and found himself looking into Danny's concerned eyes. "Wow... Could you just hold me for a second?" Danny wrapped him up in his huge arms and lifted him up in his hug. Ted was in muscle paradise, swathed up in Danny's tree trunk arms. He never wanted it to end. "I'll figure out the formula for you," he said. "I know you will, Teddy. Right now, I gotta go though." "Where?" "My roommate's waiting for me for a dose of Danny batter. He thinks it's making him stronger and faster." "Is it?" "Yep," said Danny, unwrapping his arms from around Ted and setting him back on the chair. "I'll talk to you later." That's one lucky roommate, thought Ted, as he watched Danny get dressed, and head out of the lab. And that must be one potent chemical, if it can transfer its effects thru Danny's 'batter'. That night, Ted contacted a friend of his who was working on a PhD in Genetics. He enlisted his help in breaking down the little black pill. ...=... The night of Dwayne's next fight came up fast. But he'd had time to have a tailor-made suit custom made to fit him real snug, just like he'd seen McGregor wear at his press conference with Mayweather. Dwayne wore it into the ring, and the crowd went wild. His manager had told him that this Tommy guy didn't want the fight because Dwayne was still a nobody. But then Tommy's manager reminded him that he wouldn't get paid if he didn't fight, so he agreed. He figured it'd be easy money. He'd never seen Dwayne. He would soon though. As Tommy made his way to the ring, Dwayne started flexing in his shiny new suit. The shoulder seams to his jacket started ripping almost immediately. Slow at first, but then faster as he crunched into a most muscular. Dwayne flexed harder. Buttons popped off like bullets. His jacket split up the back. He ripped the shredding jacket off him and tossed the pieces aside. He flexed his arms and made the sleeves of his dress shirt rip as his peaks tore thru the fabric like it was tissue paper. Then he tore his shirt apart like the Hulk, exposing his rockhard torso. As Tommy watched from the apron, befuddled, the crowd was going apeshit. Tommy's slow synapses were trying to process what he was seeing. He'd spent time in juvvie as a teenager, and had been in and out of prison a couple of times, but he'd never seen anyone so jacked up as Dwayne. Tommy stepped into the ring, pretty sure he could handle anyone. He was 11-0, after all. His entourage didn't look so sure. Just like in his first fight, Dwayne noticed Tommy look over at a young woman in the audience. There was a different energy to this couple, though. Dwayne saw a look of fear behind her eyes, the same look he used to get before school, when he knew Tip would be waiting for him. Then he noticed the bruises on her upper arms. He looked at Tommy, and he didn't need to see the skull tattoo on his neck to realize that this goon beat on his girlfriend. Dwayne felt the heat building up inside him. This cocky tool was going to be taught a lesson. When the fight started, Dwayne let Tommy hit him a couple of times without trying to block the blows. Tommy was more confused than ever. His powerful jabs didn't seem to hurt his opponent in the least. So he whirled at him with his roundhouse kick, hitting him right in the side. Dwayne didn't flinch. It was like he had on Batman's mech suit, but it was just his own dense rockhard muscle. Tommy felt like he'd broken his shin bone. He hobble back in pain, and looked over to his corner, where his manager just shrugged and urged him to go back at him. But Dwayne was already coming at him, and threw a jab of his own, hitting Tommy right in his sternum. The jab was so strong and sharp, it knocked the wind out of Tommy. He staggered back against the cage. Dwayne was on him in a flash, picking him up and throwing him to the ground. Then he got on top of him and rode him around the octagon. Tommy had never felt such controlling strength. None of the moves he tried to escape Dwayne's holds had any effect at all. And each hold was more painful than the last. Tommy was in a panic to get away from him, even for a second, but Dwayne was having none of it. He worked him and worked him, then would pick him up and slam him back to the ring, then get right back on top of him. Finally, he put him in a rear naked choke. He leaned into Tommy's ear and said, "This is what happens to guys who hurt women." He maneuvered Tommy so he was facing away from the ref. Then he pulled on Tommy's arm until it popped out of his shoulder joint. Dwayne had one hand over Tommy's mouth, to muffle the scream. Tommy tried to tap out, but Dwayne had his hands trapped so tightly, he couldn't move them. "It's gonna hurt even more, going back in," Dwayne said to him. And he was right. He shoved the ball of Tommy's arm bone back into joint, and Tommy almost passed out. Dwayne flipped Tommy over on his back and mounted him, bending Tommy's ankles up behind his ears. Dwayne leaned into him hard, folding him almost flat on the mat. Again, he whispered in his ear, "If you hurt your girlfriend again, I'll come after you. And it will make what's happening here seem like a picnic." Dwayne pinned him down harder. "Then I'll make you change your first name to Tinker. How ya think 'Tinker Bell' will go over on the fight circuit?" Tommy was drenched in sweat, and gasping for air as Dwayne pressed against his ribcage with his superhuman strength. Then Dwayne stood up over him. He grabbed Tommy around the throat with one hand, then lifted him off the ground and into the air. He walked around the ring holding Tommy up, while flexing his other arm. The crowd was in a frenzy, even as the ref warned Dwayne about the choke hold. Dwayne looked at the ref, then dropped Tommy to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Dwayne jumped onto him, wrapped his legs around his torso, and pulled Tommy's right arm into an arm bar. Pain seared thru Tommy's radial nerve. This time, Dwayne let Tommy tap out. Then he released the hold and stood up. The ref took his arm and raised it in victory. Dwayne flexed into his most-muscular pose for the crowd, as it roared in approval. Tommy looked up at his vanquisher. He'd never been turned onto a man before, yet, despite his physical pain, he felt himself getting aroused as Dwayne's superior, muscular body flexed over him. Tommy would never have sex again without thinking of Dwayne in order to finish. ...==... A couple of days later, Danny texted Dwayne to meet him at the park. He had something important to tell him. When Danny pulled up, Dwayne was already there, wearing just his fighting shorts, and doing one-finger pull-ups at the fitness trail. "Hey, Bruiser," said Danny as he walked up to him. "I hear the fight went well." "Short and sweet, just like they'll all be. I'm switching to parkour." "Oh yeah? You gonna be leaping over tall buildings in a single bound?" "Don't laugh," said Dwayne, dropping off the pull-up bar. Veins ran up and down his arms, across his delts, and into his chest. "How's Jake?" "Hot as hell. And he loves it when I breed him." "As he should. You still on the wrestling team?" "Nah, I gave that up. Who's gonna beat these?" said Danny, flexing his arms. "They're peaking up to 26 inches now. "Bearhug me with them," challenged Dwayne. Danny grinned, then stepped up to Dwayne, and wrapped his massive arms around him. Then he squeezed. "Damn you are solid," said Danny, as he hoisted Dwayne off the ground. "Hell yeah, I am," said Dwayne, kissing Danny on his 24" neck. "Squeeze harder." Danny wrapped his arms around him harder. He'd be crushing most guy like a tube of toothpaste with the force he was applying, but Dwayne seemed unaffected. "And now I know why," said Danny. He liked how much strength he could use on Dwayne. It turned him on. That, and Dwayne's sucking on his thick bull neck. "Those grad students I told you about? They found out why Ivan's stuff works so well." "Yeah?" said Dwayne. Then he started sucking on Danny's earlobe. "Harder, man." Danny squeezed harder, his forearms bulging to 19 inches. "Yeah. It completely shuts down the myostatin gene and allows for unfettered growth of muscle and strength." "No shit? Can they replicate it?" "Yeah, they think they can." Danny dug his clamped fists deeper into Dwayne's lower back. "Why you think I'm not slabbing on mass like you?" asked Dwayne. "I'm not sure, but you're at least as strong as I am, and I'm pretty sure you've got other skills coming on strong." "Yeah, you're right. What's Ivan think about these guys making the stuff?" Both of them were sweating now, making it harder to grip onto Dwayne's granite muscle. They were both hard. "He's happy he won't have to go back to Poland anytime soon." "I bet...Harder, man, I'm starting to feel it now." Danny grunted and squeezed. Dwayne arched back in the bearhug. "Oh yeh, bro, that's is power!" They turned their heads toward each other and kissed. When they broke off the kiss, Dwayne said, "I've been hooking up with your dad." "Yeah, I know," said Danny, and then he kissed Dwayne again. "I've seen him getting more muscular, just like Jack. I caught him flexing in the mirror the other day." "I know. It's hot as fuck." "Dad thinks you can read his mind, maybe even control his thoughts." "Maybe a little. I think it's more the power of suggestion. Although sometimes, when I want his tongue to go to a specific spot, it goes right there. It's like I'm guiding it with my mind." "That's wild." "I know. Hey, you squeezing as hard as you can yet?" "Almost," said Danny. "Go full bore, I wanna try something." Danny tightened his grip around Dwayne and squeezed him in with his huge sweaty arms. Both of them grunted. Then Dwayne, with his arms trapped to his sides, started pushing outward with them. At first nothing happened, but then Dwayne felt Danny's arms open up a little from the pressure. Dwayne pushed harder, and Danny felt his grip slipping. Danny's neck veins popped out as he tried to maintain his hold, but Dwayne's arm strength pushed his hands apart. Dwayne was now able to move his arms, and he slid his hands up to the crook of Danny's elbows, and broke his bearhug. Dwayne's feet hit the ground, and he stepped back out of Danny's hold. "Dude, geezus," said Danny, huffing, his thick torso red and welted from holding Dwayne so hard. "I can't believe it either. You're so huge." Dwayne's torso was also reddened and welted. Sweat rolled off of him. "And you got freak strength, man." "I know. And I can feel it growing. Follow me." Dwayne led Danny over to an old wrought iron fence that bordered one side of the park. It lined the property of an old mansion that was on the other side. Dwayne went up to the fence, grabbed a railing in each hand, and ripped a four foot section of the fence out of the ground, and yanked it free of the rest of the fence. He held it out at arm's length and began to press in on it. Cords of muscle popped out all over his forearms and delts. Striations rippled across his chest. He bent over slightly as the iron began to fold in like an accordion, and his lats flared out with his effort. The four foot section soon became a two foot section. He bent over farther, and his abs crunched out like big cobblestones, as the fencing bunched up on itself like a cheap window blind until it was compressed to one foot. Dwayne lifted it into the air like a trophy. Then he tossed it to Danny, who caught it one-handed. He wrapped his fingers around the end pieces and pulled. The wrought iron began to open back up, creaking loudly as it did. Danny pulled and pulled, stretching the iron like taffy, his huge arms and chest swelling, until it became a five foot section of misshapen metal. "You ain't weak, either," Dwayne said to him. "Bro... I feel like...." Danny said, holding the iron fence in one arm and curling it slow and hard, watching his biceps swell to 27 inches. "Breaking into the mansion?" "Yeah....and then..." "Fucking each others' brains out?" "You reading my mind?" "Nah, I'm just thinking the same way. And I want to..." "Fuck in every room of the place?" "Shit, yeah. Now who's reading who?" The two of them walked thru the opening in the fence. Danny jammed the twisted up section back into place the best he could. They headed up the hill toward the empty house. The front gate had a For Sale sign on it. "You know what we should do?" said Danny, as they climbed the front steps. "Turn this place into a private gym," said Dwayne. "Fuck, you are reading my mind, you freak," said Danny. Dwayne laughed. "I know, but it is an awesome idea. We can get your dad to invest in it. And we'll only let in geeks and dorks. Build them up huge and powerful. Maybe even psychic." "Exactly. And Ted thinks they can make an even stronger formula. Imagine what could happen." "Dude. It'll be like Hogwarts for future muscle monsters." They kissed again on the front porch. Then Danny got ready to slam his basketball-sized shoulder into the front door. "Wait," said Dwayne. He grabbed the realtor's box that was hanging on the front doorknob between his thumb and index finger and crushed it until the key fell out. "You got finesse," said Danny. "Just don't wanna damage the goods," said Dwayne, opening the door. "Let's go see the future." And the two of them stepped inside.
  3. 20 points
    All Parts Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 8.5 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Jeff just stood there with a big sheepish grin, his shorts at his feet, the extra four inches of length added to his soft dick giving it the appearance of a teenager who had a growth spurt. The head was shiny, with skin stretched taught. I noticed it had to have at least an extra inch of thickness. His abs bulged and wiggled as Jeff chuckled through that grin. “How…?” I began to ask. Jeff snickered, like a little boy in a candy shop. His bulbous pecs jiggled like two bowls full of jelly. “I have no idea dude. Near as I can figure, I didn’t workout and my little ‘protein drink’ had to go somewhere. Since I didn’t direct it with a workout, it headed to the most logical place it could go…” “Your meat...yeah, makes total sense,” I winked at him. “So you’re letting yourself go a little more?” I asked as I rubbed the fuzz on his abs that was normally trimmed off completely. My fingers traced the contours of each ab as I did, drawing the shape of each one with a fingertip. His abs lurched each time I did, and his new bigger dick stirred. “Not purposely. I have shaved each of the last two days. In fact, I just shaved a few hours ago. It’s just coming in faster lately.” He leaned forward and back slightly, flexing the abs and making the gouges deeper then more shallow, trying to capture my fingers between them. I rubbed his new stubbly treasure trail a little more rapidly. “It feels...edgy to me. I like it. You’ve got a little tooth to your skin now.” I ripped my shirt off at an inhuman speed. “Give. Me. Rugburn.” I growled at him, I began rubbing my abs against his forcefully. Jeff reached around and planted both of his hands under each of my ass cheeks. “Hey, someone’s a tight ass now!” he smiled. I squeezed my glutes to push back against his fingers, and they dug in even more. He groped as hard as he could and, for all the muscle I had back there, I could feel his strength pressing harder against my glutes. “Dude, you’re certainly filling up my palms now. Mmmmm, I like it.” Then his strength surged as he picked me up and rubbed my abs and chest up and down against his abs. The lats and shoulders unfurled their girth as he thrust me up and down against him.I felt the stubble on his abs dig into the skin of my torso, and I noticed the redness on my skin begin to appear. I started to sweat, and the redness covered with a glistening glow showed my muscles off more than ever. I wrapped my legs around the bottom of his thick hard ass to give him more leverage to boost me up and down. I forgot I still had my workpants on, but Jeff didn’t. With a grunt, his power swelled once more as his deep grip on my butt allowed him to tear my pants and underwear to pieces in one swipe, and I now was 100% skin to skin against him. His natural alpha male dominance was back. This made my cock stir. His chest had gained a little bit of stubble too, and his nipples were like bullets. One of his nipples scratched me and actually drew a little blood. I jumped when it did. “Dude, you been filing those things sharp? Damn! You could cut glass with those.” “No filing, they’re just...really stout right now.” I reached my hands down and rubbed Jeff’s nipples and he moaned. I realized that his cock was pointing up and rubbing the vertical crevice between my columns of abs as he continued to move me up and down on his torso, friction burning both of us on our abs and chests. My cock also was lengthening upward, settling into his ab canyon as well. The two pythons were dancing together in a jerky ritual. Jeff’s cock rapidly surpassed mine climbing up as his cock hardened was up to to bottom of his sternum. The moaning turned to a grunt and I heard him breathing heavier and gasping. Every muscle on Jeff’s body tensed and twitched, the veins visibly pulsing. The next thing I knew, I was getting splashed on the face with a geyser coming from between the two of us. It was raining down on Jeff’s face as well. It was rolling down our heads and pooling into our man cleavage. Jeff had cum like a fire hydrant bursting, and it covered him and me both. We both began to lick it off of each other. Jeff lifted me higher to lick down my chest, through the canyon of cleavage I now owned, over the fingers of muscle standing out the connected to my sternum, down to my abs. I tensed my abs as much as I could to give him an obstacle course of muscle bulges to put his tongue through As I bent forward to crunch the abs, I messily grabbed and groped Jeff’s head with both hands, as I shoved my mouth onto his, mashing my tongue down his throat as my lips and mouth danced with his. He hadn’t shaved his face (or maybe he had and it grew like his treasure trail), and it gave me rugburn on the face too. I began to moan in orgasm too, as my load came to the top ready to come out. When I got the surprise of the night. Jeff still had an iron grip on my ass, and let go with one hand, continuing to hold me with the other. The arm still holding me up bulged and surged with power as veins exploded like garden hoses all across. The free arm grabbed my cock. And then Jeff squeezed my cock with all his strength as I was about to cum with incredible force. He squeezed like you would a hose that you wanted to cut the waterflow off from. My cock throbbed with a force I’d never known it to have. The mushroom head turned deep purple from the bloodflow getting cut off. My eyes bulged and I gasped for breath. My entire body tensed and went rigid, going into a full body erection, stretched out straight, still up near Jeff’s pecs. Jeff was forcibly preventing my cum from shooting. After a few minutes the throbbing in my cock died down, and I hadn’t let anything out. It was an interesting sensation, a fun one in some ways, surprising in others. I had been so lost in the ecstasy of the past moments (maybe it was hours) that I had forgotten...we had never left the kitchen. We both collapsed onto the kitchen floor gently, Jeff’s strength keeping us from just falling into a painful heap. We laid on the floor holding onto each other, sticking to each other where the cum hadn’t been cleaned off. I laid my head in the crevice between Jeff’s pecs, and his brawny hands rubbed the bulges in my back that had flared out during our escapade. It was about fifteen minutes before either of us had the strength to talk. “What…” I gasped, “What….mm…” I asked, as I was gently caressing the veins in his bowling pin hard forearm. Jeff’s hands had been playing with the gouges in my tricep. “Dude...look down.” And he pointed at my groin. My lord. My cock was three inches longer at least, and had thickened up at least a couple of inches. The hair on my cock had gotten thicker, and the treasure trail I had was now a forest that covered my abs. The dusting of hair on my chest had doubled in thickness as well. My balls were also heavier. Jeff’s hands moved south and he said one simple word. “Now.” And as his hands gently brushed against the hairs of my scrotum, I found my dick instantly going erect to a length that reached the top of my abs, and I instantly was shooting a volley of cum as thick and wide as a bursting pipe of water, covering us once again. “Jeff, what have you done to me? Because I like it. And I want more.” "Me too," he said. "But right now...I'm hungry. Let's eat the dinner I made. Then we'll rest up for....more."
  4. 20 points
    All Parts Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 8.5 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Once morning came, I slipped out from under Jeff, who had fallen asleep on my groin. My dick was still hanging in his mouth like a corn dog, and cum had leaked into him little by little all night long. It wasn't a large volleying series of hard shots, more like a constant little drip. Like the kitchen sink that drips and eventually fills up the bowl that's beneath. I had slept leaning against the wall in the bathroom, a surprisingly good sleep. Or the energy from these new muscles was pumping me out there faster. Who knew? Who cared. I rubbed my flexed bicep with my free hand and moaned in pleasure. So he wouldn't be embarrassed, I wiped all the dried cum off Jeff's face that had fallen out of his mouth. I knew Jeff to be a proud man, but these last 36 hours he was practically a rag doll to me. A big muscular rag doll of bristling power and hardened sinew, but still a rag doll. But not being the alpha dominant male may bother him, best not to give him more reason to be uneasy. I passed by Jeff's full length wall mirror as I left the bathroom, and I had to stop and do another double take. I couldn't believe this, the body of my dreams was finally here. I checked my weight, and I was weighing in at 160, fully filling out my 5'7" frame like I had always dreamed. I lifted my arms in a double biceps pose and saw bulging balls of writhing coiled muscle erupt into life on my arms that I had never thought I could ever achieve. Veins grew across them like an army of ants and my forearms swelled on the sides as the veins gave my forearms the appearance of shattered glass. My deltoids mounded up like rising bread. I was so vascular I was able to take my pulse visually by watching the veins on my engorged arms throb and ripple like the tide washing in and out on a beach. I was incredibly turned on by myself, but I couldn't live a life in eternal lust and orgasm. My dick was very raw from the night long sucking, so I gave myself a quickie jerk off in a towel and went in the kitchen to make breakfast. I had just finished making everything and was setting at the table to eat when Jeff shuffled in. He had put some shorts on, riding low and held up by the base of his cock on his groin. They were low enough that in the light I could now see the black and purple hickey he had from the blow job he'd received from me earlier. His chest was looking particularly hot today, like balloons threatening to pop at the slightest touch, shiny from being stretched to further expanses recently. I reached over and rubbed one of them and he snorted and smiled. "Hey stud. How's my love?" He looked down at me (remember, he's still well over 6 feet tall, and I'm 5'7") and smiled and rubbed my hair on my head. "I have....NEVER....had anything like the last two days happen to me." I stroked his pec up and down, bring my hand underneath it and bouncing the meaty mass up and down. "Did you enjoy it?" I asked as I circle around his nipple. "Mmmmmmm....yeah....but it's not something I can do all the time." He laughed. "And look....look what happened to you!" He pulled me in close and rubbed my chest against his, my abs grating against his abs. "You've turned into a muscle slut!" he smiled. "Hey, I think I can be okay with that!" I replied excitedly. "You've got a little something going on here too," and I patted the mini cum belly he had accumulated the night before from the constant cum drip in his mouth. "It sorta suits you. Maybe you should keep some of the fluff. It might be....fun!" Jeff shook his head, "Naw, I think I'm big enough. I got up to 215 when I had a recent spurt of growth, and that's really enough. It's actually more than I wanted. Truth be told, I was looking to get down to 185 shredded to the bone." "Knowing you, you weighed yourself to see what the new gut added to you. And?" "Heh, you know me too well. I'm 230 now." He rubbed the top of his belly. I reached under his small poochy gut and scratched the bottom of it. I then gently pushed up on it with both hands, causing it to slosh a bit. "So....what are we going to do with this?" "Well, I'll keep it for a little while. Part of gaining muscle after working out hard is rest. And I....I need rest. I'm going to call into work sick tomorrow. I probably won't work out until later in the week." "Sound good, bro." I gave him some breakfast. "As much fun as I've had, and believe me I've got a body keeping me horny 24/7 right now, I have to get back to some regular life. But I'll start packing up....I'm going to take you up on the invitation to move in." Jeff squeezed my upper arm. "After yesterday, I think you better! See you in a few days after I've recovered." ===================================================== Work without Jeff was fairly mundane and quiet. Truth be told, I was a bit tired too, and not really digging for any attention while I was worn out. So I purchased some larger than normal clothing that obscured my new muscularity. Long sleeves and dress pants were the order of the day. After three days went by without Jeff at the office, he gave me a call. "Hey dude. I think I'm back up to speed and I'll be back in the saddle at work tomorrow. Want to come over tonight?" My heart leapt into my throat like a school boy who just got kissed by his crush. "You better believe it. I'll come by tonight on the way home." ===================================================== I let myself in at Jeff's house, and found this time he was the one doing the cooking. He was dressed in the same shorts he had on the last time I saw him, and nothing more. I immediately noticed the stout groin hickey had faded a bit. I also noticed that his abs were now sporting a thin layer of hair that pointed the eyes down to the dick area. And his cum belly was gone. I knew he hadn't worked out, so.... "You forget to shave lately, Jeff?" "No, dude, it's just begun to come in faster down there. You know I hate body hair of any kind. The only kind I keep is pit hair, and that's because I don't want to field the weird looks and questions." He stammered just a bit, then said, "Speaking of weird looks..." And he dropped his shorts. I think I dropped my jaw almost as quickly with an audible thud. Jeff's cock, soft, had gotten about four inches longer and the head was at least twice as round as it had been!
  5. 19 points
    Hey everyone! I was inspired to write a short one-off story (as opposed to my usual multi-chapter epics) and I was able to write this all in one go today! I hope you enjoy. Joe goes to his local game store to do a Magic: The Gathering draft and plays against a burly young jock whose spells have an effect on more than just the battlefield... I went to my local game store to do a Magic: The Gathering draft, like I do almost every week. I paid for my entry fee and went to sit down, chatting with the other store regulars about what cards we thought are underrated and what archetypes were good to draft. The bell on the door to the store jingled and suddenly I could smell a sharp, heady aroma of nerd jock BO. I crinkled my nose but a shiver of pleasure went up my spine as well; I had always had a weakness for that musky masculine smell. I looked over to see where it was coming from and saw a guy walking in I had never seen before. He was young, probably fresh out of college, and was built like a football lineman. He was tall, over 6’ for sure, and beefy; wide shoulders, barrel chest, big arms, round soft-looking belly, and thick legs. He had a scraggly, bright red beard and mustache, round, ruddy cheeks, pale skin, and piercing blue eyes. His hair was long and stringy, and he wore a hoodie, jeans, and big heavy-looking leather boots. I guessed he was probably 280lb or so. He looked like the kind of guy who would be great to cuddle with, but maybe only after you fed him and got fucked by him. I got the sense he was usually pegged as a jock football bro because of how he looked but deep down was a serious MTG nerd. He was solid-looking, like he still lifted but also looked like he had let himself go a little since the football season had ended last fall. He sauntered in, the smell of his musk growing more pungent as he walked by me. He smelled like he had just come from the gym but also like he hadn’t left his mom’s basement to shower in a few days: sour, sharp, tangy, and fresh all at the same time. I couldn’t help but huff it in even though it was so powerful it was hard to breath. He paid for his draft and soon enough we got started. The store manager running the draft called out our seats and sure enough I was next to the big ginger. He sat down next to me, a wave of his BO wafting over me. “Hey, I haven’t seen you here before, I’m Joe,” I said. The big guy slumped his backpack down and turned to me, his icy blue eyes looking me over. “Mark, but just call me Red,” he said with a grin. “Red, huh?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “That’s quite a nickname,” I continued, “though I suppose it works for you.” “Heh, yeah,” he said and ran a hand through his straggly ginger beard. It looked like hadn’t trimmed or groomed it in months. “My football buddies gave it to me. I played football up until I graduated last year,” he explained, spreading his shoulders wide. “Just D3 but I liked being able to hit stuff. I’ve had that nickname since freshman year.” “Yeah I thought so, you’re a pretty big guy. You just come from the gym?” I asked, his BO surrounding me like a miasma. “Yeah actually. I still love lifting. Guess I smell pretty strong, huh?” he asked. “It’s kind of noticeable, yeah,” I admitted. “Heh, well people can just deal with it,” he said and lifted his arm up a bit and sniffed for effect. “I kind of like it actually.” I almost admitted that I did too, but decided that would be weird. “Well alright Red, I’m Joe. Pass me some good cards, ok?” I said. “For sure, bud,” he said as we all got our packs. “Hope you open some good stuff,” and we all opened our packs to start drafting. The draft went fine for me, but I found it hard to concentrate with this huge, sexy, smelly fucker next to me. It was impossible to ignore his presence because his BO stink was always in my nostrils, and he would grunt or bump against me every so often when he got a good card. I tried not to steal glances but couldn’t help myself a few times. He was just my type: big, bearded, ginger, geeky, and sweaty. When the draft ended, my deck wasn’t the best because I hadn’t been focusing as much as I should have been. I looked to my right and Red had drafted a green/red deck with some insane bombs. My eyes boggled as I looked at the size of his creatures, especially the big ones at the top of his curve, and backed up by good pump spells. “Jeez you really went big, huh?” I said to him, leaning a bit closer. “Yeah I like playing with big, beefy creatures… kind of like me, right?” he said with a grin and started putting his deck together. “Well the red matches your beard, so I guess that fits,” I said. He chuckled and rose up to get lands, towering over me for a moment, and I tried to focus on building a deck of my own. A few minutes later pairings went up and I went to go play against my first round opponent. Red sat a bit away from me, with his back to me. The chair looked too small for his wide shoulders and beefy ass. I noticed others around me crinkling their noses and keeping their distance from the big jock, but they didn’t say anything. A smelly guy at a local game store wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. I did well during my first game, drawing well and beating my opponent’s cruddy deck easily. During the game I kept looking over at Red. I could hear his deep voice from across the room, and his shoulders and traps really looked big from behind. After his first game he stood up to take his hoodie off – it was getting pretty warm in the store with all these guys playing Magic – revealing that he was wearing just a tank top underneath. His BO stink intensified now that his pits were exposed, and I got a better look at the size of his shoulders and back. He was bigger than I thought, more muscular, with round bulky delts and mountainous traps. I picked up my stuff and went to a quiet corner of the store to zone out looking at my phone for a bit to kill time between rounds. Before I knew it 20 minutes had passed and they were calling time in the round. I went back over to the play area and stopped in my tracks when I saw Red rising up out of his chair. Red looked noticeably bigger than he did just 20 minutes ago. He stood up, and up, clearly several inches taller than he was before, looking at least 6’6” if not bigger. He was thicker all over, not just because he was taller but proportionally as well; his shoulders were bulkier and wider, his huge pecs made his tank top stretch, and a sliver of red fur-covered belly peeked out from the bottom. His arms were massive and much more muscular than before, biceps bulging with mounds of muscle that hadn’t been there before. His jeans strained to contain his big, muscular quads, and a prominent bulge tented the denim. His beard looked redder and thicker, and the power of his BO stink had increased. “Red, uh, did you win your match?” I asked tentatively. Everyone else around eyed him strangely and gave him plenty of space, aware that he had apparently grown. He had to be at least 400lbs of beefy muscle now. His big shoulders had sprouted some copper-colored hair. “Sure did! It was a close one but Giant Growth won it in the end for me,” he boomed, his voice louder and deeper than before. “G-giant growth, huh?” I stammered. He seemed totally unaware of the irony. “Yup, I got lots of combat tricks to make my guys grow bigger. Always love it when my stuff is just bigger than everything the opponent has, that way I can bully him around just like I used to in football,” he said, raising a beefy arm to scratch his scraggly beard. His bicep bulged up obscenely, the red pores of his huge arm standing out as he flexed. “Pairings for round 2 are up!” the store manager yelled, and I looked up to the screen to see who I was playing next. I found my name and then looked over to see who I was playing. It said, “Mark H.” I felt the floorboards vibrate a bit and a shadow fell over me, and smelled a wave of Red’s jock/geek funk. “Looks like we’re playing each other this round, little guy,” Red rumbled from behind me. I turned around and was eye-level with his chest. His tank top was a worn, faded high school wrestling tournament one, with a hyper muscular bear mascot on the front and a list of names of participants on the back. He was stained yellow under the pecs and pits from years of jock sweat. I looked up, my mouth falling open a bit, and Red looked down at me with a smirk. “Y-yeah man, uh, where do you want to, um, sit?” I said, flummoxed and freaked out for a variety of reasons. We found a place to play and I set about getting ready. He sat down heavily, the little wooden chair creaking ominously under his bulk. “So how long have been you playing Magic?” I said, trying to make small talk to be less nervous. “Since I was 12, so like 10 years now,” he said as he started shuffling his deck. His huge, calloused hands made the cards look smaller than usual, and I gulped. It was starting to feel really warm in here. “C-cool. So, you said you like red and green?” I asked as I finished shuffling and we cut each others’ decks. “Yeah man, ever since I was young I loved all the huge, powerful creatures in those colors. Aggressive, strong, big, all the qualities I wanted for myself. Sometimes when I play football I would think about having trample or first strike and just running over my opponent, hehe,” he said as he won the die roll and drew seven. I couldn’t help but get chubbed up as this massive brute told me all this. “Heh that’s awesome, man. Well it seemed to work because you’re huge! Uh, just how big are you anyway?” I dared to ask as I played a land and passed the turn. “6’7” and 425lb or so, though that fluctuates a lot depending on what I’m eating. Always trying to grow bigger,” he rumbled and then played a creature. “B-but you weren’t that big earlier…no way,” I said as played a creature of my own, though smaller than his, and passed. “Well yeah even a year or two ago I was still in the 300s but I just keep growing,” he said as he attacked with his 2/2. “No I meant, when you got here… never mind,” I said, confused – there was no way he was he over 300lbs when I first saw him, much less 400lb. I decided to block his creature as it seemed like a good trade. He tapped his lands and played Boon of Strength, giving his creature two +1/+1 counters and making it bigger. As he played the spell I could see Red visibly bulk up bigger, like he suddenly got a nice gym pump. His traps and shoulders rose up thicker and rounder, his forearms swelled and new veins appeared, and his chest expanded with muscle. Like he had gotten a… well, a boon of strength. “Ha! Gotcha,” he said and my little 2/1 died in to his creature, now a 4/4. “Uh, what just...happened,” I trailed off as I untapped my lands. “Heh, told you my deck had a lot of pump spelled in it,” Red said and stretched in his seat. His massive arms – had to be over 22 inches now – flexed as he stretched, and his tank top rode up until I could see his belly button, his fat belly covered in copper-colored fur. His sweaty pits filled the room with musk, and the entire store soon stank like a football jock’s dorm room. “Yeah, but, you… you look… I mean, did you just grow?” I asked, hardly believing the words coming out of my mouth. “Huh? Uh, my creature did, but I’ve always been this big. Guess this tank is getting a little tight, I’ve been making lots of gains lately,” he rumbled. I nodded, confused, and played a creature and passed the turn. He had no idea what was happening. Red played another bigger creature, and again I could see him grow slightly. He attacked, hit me for 4, and I could already tell I was going to lose this game. A few turns later, with a 4/4, a 5/6, and a 7/7 on the board, and with Red looking close to seven feet tall and pushing 600lbs, he won game one. I looked him over as he shuffled for game two. His red, round cheeks were flushed and his blue eyes were hyponotizing. His beard had grown thicker and longer with him and almost reached down to his pecs, which rose up now like a shelf and stood out from his flimsy tank top. His arms were absurd, bigger around than his head and throbbing with beefy muscle, a round, solid bicep peak erupting from the meat of his upper arm as he shuffled. “S-so you graduated?” I asked, trying to take my mind off of the fact my opponent was growing into the biggest man on earth right in front of me. “Yeah, got an exercise science degree. I want to join a coaching staff or maybe be a personal trainer as a backup option,” he said. “Always loved lifting, even as a kid,” he boomed and lifted up his huge right arm and flexed. Mountains of muscle sprang up on his arm and shoulder, and my mouth dropped open. I’d never seen such huge muscle. The red armpit hair was matted down with slick sweat and a wave of his BO hit me like a punch in the face. “W-wow yeah it really shows. Well that’s cool. You must have been one of the biggest guys on your team?” I probed. “Oh yeah, always been the biggest guy everywhere. I got offers from D1 schools but wanted to stay local. At my size I could do pretty much whatever I want,” he said and my mind took that in ten different ways and my boner swelled harder. I actually won game two because he got mana screwed, unable to play anything except a two-drop creature, which obviously frustrated him. His red cheeks grew redder and I could see, and smell, more sweat erupting on his forehead, shoulders, and chest, dampening his shirt. Game three started pretty evenly, with both of us playing fairly defensive creatures and building our board state. His hulking frame intimidated me across the table, and he slowly but interminably swelled up bigger every time he played a creature or cast a pump spell. I was just barely holding on when he played Growth Spurt, giving all his creatures +1/+1 counters. Red exploded with more size, muscle packing on to his bulky football jock frame and stretching wider and thicker. His chair groaned and cracked under his ballooning weight. His torso was so big it looked like he was wearing football pads. “Oh yeah, a growth spurt just in time!” he rumbled and attacked. I blocked what I could but took a lot of damage. It wasn’t looking good for me. “What are you gonna do, little guy? The beef squad just keeps growing bigger!” he taunted, tensing his pecs and traps at me. I just grumbled and passed the turn. His next turn he tapped all of his mana. “Here comes the big guy!” Red boomed and laid down Hulking Brute, an 8/8 creature with trample. The art of the card showed a massive, muscular, red-bearded giant stomping a house with a huge foot and smashing a hammer into the ground. I looked up just in time to see Red explode with size, his entire body visibly swelling up taller, broader, and more muscular. He took a deep breath and I could hear his tendons popping and stretching to accommodate his new, bigger size. “Oh yeah!” Red bragged, lifting up his arms in triumph, unleashing a new wave of BO stink, and attacked again. I was barely alive and drew another creature to keep me alive for another turn. If I could draw my sweeper I could probably come back, but it was a big if. On his next turn, he drew his card, smirked, and then tapped all his mana. “BOOM!” he yelled and played Unstoppable Growth, a mass-pump spell that gave all his creatures +4/+4 and trample and then attacked with everything. As soon as the card left his hand, Red exploded with size, muscle and fat swelling his entire body bigger and taller. The table shifted towards me as his ball belly pushed it back, and the chair cracked and collapsed under his huge weight. He fell with a heavy “OOF”. Muscles erupted on every inch of his burly body, the football jock going from pro strongman size to borderline giant in just a few seconds. His pale skin was ruddy with exertion and slick with sweat, his beard thicker and longer, copper colored hair sprouting on his back and shoulders and arms. Red laughed as he sat on the floor. He shifted his massive weight, clomped a heavy boot onto the ground, and rose up to his full height. He stood up, taller and taller until he towered over the entire store, his head scraping against the 8 foot ceiling. He breathed deeply, his body filling out with the last moments of growth, and he laughed. He was enormous, like the big brother of the the biggest strongman or powerlifter or football player alive, fat and powerful, muscular and swollen, ruddy and sweaty and huge. His stench intensified as he lifted up his arms until his fists bumped into the ceiling and then he brought his fists together and flexed. “HAHA oh yeah, the goon squad wins! Like a whole offensive line pancake blocking your ass!” he boomed down at me, eyes wide as he let his jock excitement get the better of him. I flinched but couldn’t take my eyes off the massive giant college football jock towering over me. At this point everyone else in the store noticed the hulking brute, clearly bigger than anyone they’d ever seen before. People stared and yelled, pointing and cursing at the size of the ginger giant. Red’s beard bloomed red and thick, reaching down and mixing with his chest hair, his mustache curling broadly into his cheeks, his flowing hair falling down to his shoulders like a Viking god. “Looks like I’m 2-0 and going to the finals,” Red boomed as he cleaned up his cards. Each one looked like a bizarre miniature Magic card in his huge hands. “Can’t wait to smash the next guy. Look at how BIG my creatures got at the end!” he said and swelled his chest up and out. “Almost as big as ME!” he said with a smirk and palmed his enormous gut and jiggled it up and down. “Huhhh, um, whaaa…” I stammered, unable to process the fact my opponent had just grown over 2 feet tall and god knows how much heavier in the last half an hour while playing Magic: The Gathering. “Good games though, squirt, you took me to three, that’s pretty good for a little guy,” he rumbled and extended a hand. I instinctively put mine out and Red wrapped his massive paw around my diminutive digits. His hand engulfed mine up to my wrist and he squeezed hard, the power just in his fingers overwhelming, and he shook me hard. “Bet you never lost to a Magic player this size, huh?” he taunted. “Pairings for round 3 are up!” the manager called, and Red mercifully waddled off to his last match. I sat down for my match, but at this point the whole store’s attention was on Red’s freak show. The brute sat down on the ground to face his opponent; he was tall enough at this point it wasn’t an issue. His round three opponent was obviously terrified and nervous; Red was probably two and a half feet taller and 5 times his weight. “Hey, I’m Red,” he boomed. “Should we roll dice to see who goes first?” he said and swelled out his chest and flexed his traps and shoulders. “N-no no, go ahead, y-you can just go first,” his opponent quavered, and Red just grinned, his big white teeth standing out in the middle of his red beard. “Good, I was hoping you’d see things my way,” the brute said and he shuffled his tiny cards. Red was merciless in his round three match. Every card seemed to be just the one he needed, and just the one to make him grow and grow and grow. He played bigger creatures, pump spells, and massive finishers to punish his opponent, all the while bulking up bigger and heavier and taller in spurts every time he played a card. He would grunt and growl when he grew now, apparently loving the feeling of his body expanding with more and more size, but continued to be unaware that it was unusual. He won game one easily, his huge ass spreading wider and taking up more space, his tank top growing with his height but not with his increasingly wider, thicker, and more muscular proportions; soon it only covered down to the top of massive round gut and his jeans had torn up to his thighs. The beast sweated profusely as he grew and grew, and his jock BO became so powerful that some people started to leave. I huffed it in, standing as close to Red as I could to soak in his funk and watch him swell bigger. He played another +1/+1 counter spell and I got bold, reaching out and touching his huge shoulder to FEEL it growing under my touch. He turned and looked at me and grinned. “Pretty good play, right?” he rumbled, his voice a subwoofer bass that rattled my chest. “Yeah big guy, keep growing your creatures more, it’s great,” I said breathlessly, caught up in the moment. “Ok ready for this?” Red said and laid down his last card. It was a mythic rare, one I had never seen before, a 12/12 creature called Evergrowth Titan. It was the biggest creature I’d ever seen, had trample, haste, and vigilance, and every turn it got bigger and bigger. Red played it and grew, his head thumping against the ceiling in an instant even though he was still sitting, his body swelling wider so fast it made me stumble over. He breathed in deep and then groaned as he exhaled, his chest as wide and thick as three or four people combined, his gut pushing the table back until it pinned his opponent against the wall. The little guy whimpered and conceded. “YEAH WOO HOO I WON!” Red boomed and raised his arms, his BO musk nearly knocking me over again. He grew even more as he sat there celebrating, the aftereffects of the spell still causing his body to pump up bigger and bigger. He scooted around and faced the counter of the store. “I’ll take my packs now,” he rumbled and stuck out his huge hand, which was as big as a cast iron skillet. “Uh, s-sure big guy,” the manager said and handed him his six packs for winning the draft. Red started opening then and the manager waved me over. “Wow, I guess he got the special promo packs that WOTC gave out. The advertising was no joke… I didn’t think they’d have ACTUAL wishing magic in them. Guess he really wanted to be bigger, huh?” he whispered to me, and my eyes grew wide. I looked back at the overgrown hulk ripping open packs, his tank top more like a crop top now and his jeans looking like Daisy Dukes. I slowly realized what had happened. “Yup, lots of +1/+1 counters on that big guy…” the manager said. I packed up my stuff and I left the store without saying anything to Red. I stood in the parking lot for a minute, knowing I should just leave but I couldn’t help but wait to see the big ginger in his full glory. Sure enough, a couple mintues later I heard crunching of walls and the scream of twisting metal and saw Red burst out of the entrance, partially destroying the small 7’ entrance with his hulking, giant frame. He was easily twice my height, and had thick, bulging, bulky muscle hanging off every inch of his body. He saw me and grinned and then lumbered over, his gut jiggling as he waddled, muscles twitching with unspeakable power with every step. “Hey,” Red boomed as he loomed over me. I could see the huge bulge in what was left of his jeans throb and shift as he looked me over. “Wanna come back to my place and keep playing? There’s a BIG creature I want to show you that I think you’ll like…” he intoned and reached down to adjust his massive cock, which was obviously swelling bigger. “I, uh, oh wow, uh—oof!” I breathed as I was suddenly lifted up by his massive hands. Red picked me up like a child and threw me over his enormous shoulders and started waddling back to his apartment. “I saw how you looked at me… you like big guys, right?” he said, his deep voice shaking my chest. “Yeah, I know you do! Well there’s NOBODY bigger than me!” He rumbled. “Ahhh, oh man,” I breathed. I couldn’t believe this was happening! “Mmm hmm, you better get ready for some trample damage because I’m gonna PLOW right through you!” Red boomed as he carried me off, my cock throbbing against his shoulder.
  6. 17 points
    Finally getting to post my first real written story for the idea I brought up before. It's not so much a part one but rather a clip I'm ready to share now. It's about seventeen paragraphs long and features macro, hyper, muscle growth, which I'll hopefully be continuing into a limitless growth scenario! Enjoy reading. The Uncontainable Hulk A week of research had already passed for Bruce Banner. His time spent at a remote military base in Arizona had led to his recent discovery of reprogramming his hulk-like transformation, an experiment that Bruce had just undergone yesterday. Results seemed promising and so far, nothing seemed to push him to his destructive alter ego. Even when he was provoked, Banner remained level headed and completely unchanged. What Bruce did not expect was that the Hulk lurked in other places. Sitting in front of his computer, Bruce read through the notes and observations left behind by scientists who assisted in the test. The room was empty and quiet with only a subtle hum coming from the fluorescent lights above him. Switching the monitor off, Banner leaned back in his office chair, pondering at the outcome he was left with. Is the Hulk really gone? Am I cured of my condition? Will this be good? Questions kept forming in his mind. Although destructive, the Hulk had power that Bruce could never in his life ever experience ever again. It should be good that no longer he would fear the consequences of feeling such a natural and simplistic emotion yet Banner sat in his chair, unsatisfied by it all. He lived with his situation for so long that he found ways to keep the beast locked away. Going Hulk had benefits of its own and strength so desirable... His loins stirred. His time spent secluded and boxed in left him bored and tired. It had been so long since he had time for himself. Bruce leaned over to his side to look behind his office chair, staring briefly at the surveillance camera before switching the monitor on and undoing his belt. His time now was of little importance and with his chair blocking most of the camera feed, Banner got right to unzipping his pants. His hand gently caressed the brief clad bulge in front of him. His mind conjured images of his body undergoing transformation. His longing of strength and power had always stuck to him on such a primal desire, something he continuously imagines when he's alone. A lengthy mound soon emerged as the blood ran through him. Adjusting accordingly, his cock was finally out from his underwear, the welcoming cool air touching his shaft. He worked the length in his palm, still picturing the Hulk, still picturing the brawn, the size, the strength and dominance... Nearing his peak, Bruce's body suddenly stiffened with his arms jolting back and legs stretching from underneath his desk. He felt for a moment, a familiar wave of energy coursing across his torso and appendages. Banner could feel his buttoned up shirt growing tighter, his pants hugging across his legs, his feet and hands swelling slowly. He recognized this sensation and knew what was happening. The purple shirt he wore already had seams bursting in multiple spots across his growing arms. The mass of his biceps peaked through the sleeves first with his shoulders pulling apart the seams of his shirt. Buttons snapped off the tight fabric across his torso and landed on the ravaged fabric of his trousers. Rips formed across his back, thighs and forearms as the transformation kept a slow and steady pace. Banner watched in horror to see his body muscle more and more but what drew his attention was the dying erection right in front of him. He noticed his cock never discharged but instead, bloated, fattened and extended at a mesmerizing rate. The meaty member just kept growing up and up, as the veins vanished underneath the foreskin and soon after reaching it's full foot long length, fell flaccid on his keyboard with a noticeable thud. The growth had finally subsided. Bruce was left astonished and stunned. His transformation was different this time. Sitting himself at 6'6", the mass of his body was half that of the Hulk's original size. The definite green skin tone was replaced with a warmer shade of green that affected every inch of his muscled body. At this point, his clothes barely covered him. Rags were strewn across various parts of his upper body with his pants forming into ripped shorts which spilled out his massive manhood. The white briefs he wore were still intact but barely held the soccer balls that were his genitals. Bruce lifted himself from his cramped chair, standing barefoot as his cock slithered off the keyboard and slapped against his knees. The weight of his member was truly something to experience but Bruce couldn't help but notice his mental state. He was still sane, stable and not enraged in any capacity. He had full control over all his functions. Relieved and excited, Banner reveled in his new form, admiring the bodybuilder physique he now had. His large hands grabbed at whatever scraps were left behind of his work shirt as he pressed his fingers in between the chiseled crevices of his cut muscular body. Lifting his left arm, he flexed his bicep, watching the mass rise up with a thick vein peaking to the top. Bruce was never able to truly adore his hulkish qualities. His memories of the Hulk were always muddled, shrouded in a rage filled episode that left him with nothing but regret. His cock gave a throb, it's bulk calling to him from below. It's shape was so enticing, fat and folded, as if it was ready to start stretching to newer proportions. Although long, its form still remained short and stubby, the head of which largely taking up a third of its size. Bruce's hand slowly glided to the hairy base. His index finger pressed at the top of the shaft before his hand rested on the rest of his girth. Coincidentally, despite its new size, the cock was perfectly in proportion to his enlarged hands. His palm gently ran down the length and shivers of pure ecstasy rattled Bruce like he never felt before. The sensation felt amplified, the pleasure of which was almost intoxicating. He stroked his cock more and more and found himself shackled to the bliss his flesh delivered. The thick skin was dragged by his bulgy fingers as the meaty shape of his dick extended in sync with his masturbation, making each stroke longer than the last. Finger-thick veins reappeared across his hardening cock as its size gained an additional six inches. The climax was fast approaching. Banner's body stiffened in response as his legs locked straight up and his back bent backwards, leaving his junk elevated and ready to erupt. Just like before, his cock did not drain. The energized sensation coursed through him a second time and bulk was steadily packing onto his figure. Banner gave a guttural groan as his hairy chest ballooned into a shelf of solid muscle. Even his deep green nipples had their share of growth, thickening at the bottom of each slab. His broad shoulders pushed out in a horizontal fashion, crevices outlining the brawn, pumpkin-like both in appearance and size. Traps rose out afterwards, crawling closer to his ears. His jaw became square with a widening chin that wholly aligned with his massive vascular bull neck. His meaty brows protruded above his green eyes as his whole face was molded manlier and stronger, resembling less of Bruce and more of the Hulk. He grunted, appearing primal and powerful. He could feel his arms exploding in size. Thick cables of muscle amassing on his already mighty limbs, bulging and flexing uncontrollably into a width that compared to that of his washboard abdomen. His chiseled six pack swelled into a brick wall of eight lumpy abs. Below the waist, his calves and thighs expanded to newfound thickness. The newly made shorts soon split from the approaching beef into even small garments, hugging his waist and covering only a third of his enormous square glutes. The back pockets peaks out from the pants over the steel-hard boulder cheeks, both tight and tugging at the fabric that was wedged in between. And of course his cock, a sight to behold. Eighteen inches of thick, hulk meat began to swell monstrously. Each throb after the other juiced his shaft more and more as the member stretched and softened, fatter and thicker. Both testes pulled his briefs down further and further until the underwear snapped from the front. Passing two feet, his cock and the rest of his skin darkened into a noticeable shade of deep green. His body shot upwards, growing past the seven foot mark and stopping short of eight feet tall. The back of Hulk's neck now rested against the ceiling while his three foot manhood dropped to his ankles. Bruce had finally transformed into the Hulk. Hulk breathed heavily, his chest rising up and down as his head still spun from the rush of his transformation. He was still in control but just barely. Banner finally began understanding his situation. His rage was merely usurped by his lust, persuading him to change with a bounty in the form of sexual gratification. Every ejaculation would go to fueling the Hulk's power, his libido piling on more and more until it ultimately resets, like the turning of an hourglass. Bruce might have retained his free will but the pleasure was hard to fight off. The sensation from his loins only magnified more after each growth spurt. The cycle would remain endless. His sexuality alone was dictated by his size, his mass and his manhood. Growing made him aroused, which made him grow, which aroused him again. Already the very feeling of his legs, knees and massive feet being enveloped by his scorching hot sack turned the Hulk on even more. In his mind, he didn't just want more, he NEEDED more. Cramped inside the laboratory, Hulk hurried to exit through the door. His muscled legs constantly kept hitting against his monster junk as he tried to walk. Cock and balls bounced up and down in front of him with their added weight enticing Hulk more and more with each step. Knowing full well that he wouldn't fit, Hulk tackled at the metal door in a fit of lusty impatience, bursting through with ease as the frame and chunks of wall toppled over. Dust poured behind him as he was greeted by rows of men, clad in armor with automatic weaponry all pointed towards the green monster. The camera had already alerted the facility of his transformation. Every gun fired directly at Hulk, the bullets casually dropping off his rippling body and rigid cock as they clattered against the concrete floor. Although impenetrable, the rounds directed at Hulk left him enduring the sharp pain from the chattering rifles. Hulk reacted, turning away from the gunfire as to shield himself from the armed soldiers. If like anything in the past, it would be expected that the Hulk would rampage, enraged by the pitiful attack of the military and the certain destruction of the entire facility. Instead, Hulk refrained himself from taking action while his massive ass and mountainous back were absorbing all the blows. Hulk only stared at the giant hole he left from the laboratory, exciting him at the casual display of left over destruction. He left that room in a fit of hot lust and that same sensation was still lingering inside, not once dying down. His desire could never be extinguished. Once his arousal started, it could only grow from that point on until he achieved his climax. Hulk could feel his cock perking up. One hand grabbed firmly at the shaft while his other hand caressed the head. The pain he felt behind him could not compare to the pleasure he was feeling. Every inch of his palm fondled his nerves as he dragged his soft green beast higher and higher into an impressive erection. His low, breathy moans picked up volume as he worked himself further. Soon, even the soldiers could hear his bliss-filled wails over their deafening weaponry. Hulk's ass was seen, clenching and unclenching as his waist involuntarily swung back and forth, driving the veiny walls of his dick into the caress of his burly hands. Sweat began to crawl down the vast expanse of his back as well as the bulging mess of muscles that formed from his torso. Pecs and abs squeezed together tightly with his thick, tree-like arms pressing his muscles inwards as he fondled his length. The troops momentarily ceased their firing, standing bewildered at what they were witnessing. The green mass of the Hulk's body swelled at a constant rate, cramming him more into the shrinking expanse of the narrow hallway. Hulk turned himself around, panting in large heaping breaths as his whole body shook and throbbed. His stance fell to a kneel as his back pressed more into the ceiling above. His bowing posture showcased the rippling display of shoulders, traps, chest and back forming a wall of ever-growing beef. His broadening arms reached the walls at his sides while his juicy, hairy pecs bloated towards the leviathan cock, the cleavage hugging against the surface of his dick. The member started to rapidly bloat, fattening up and growing soft, expanding at an alarming rate towards the troops. One by one, each soldier began to flee at the enlarging flesh which threatened to engulf them in hot green cock. Hulk's already masculine face grew manlier in appearance. The squarish jaw and chin he possessed grew fuller and more stubbly while his protruding brow had shelved itself out more. Moans of ecstasy escaped from the vein-riddled expanse of his neck as his growing cock was fondled by the hairy surface of his beefy chest muscles. He could feel his bulbous ass entering the previous room he once dwelled. In just a short amount of time, Hulk had already filled part of the hallway, snugged firmly by the ceiling and walls. The remainder of the troops kept themselves at a safe distance, gawking in astonishment at the girth that laid out in front of them. The cock, soft once more, had grown to eight feet long, five feet wide, resting on the massive sack that ran from Hulk's hairy crotch. Behind the mass, Hulk was wedged in at sixteen feet, hunched over and on both knees with his face and breast laying on top of his supple endowment. It only took mere seconds before Hulk's libido was fanned yet again. Everything around him catered to his sexual cravings from the cold hard walls touching his firm muscled body to the dense musky scent that invaded Hulk's nostrils coming from the godcock he laid on top of. The odor was almost too good for him. Hulk breathed in deeply, panting as his open mouth lapped at the skin of his cock. One brush of his tongue was enough to overload his senses. The taste, the touch, the smell, one sensation piled on top of the other. He couldn't get enough. He swiped his tongue over and over, rolling his meaty chest up and down the shaft. His lower body attempted to hump the air making the columns of hard mountainous muscle shift in a display of virile captivation. Cracks formed around him as the slightest movement was capable of fracturing the walls and ceiling. The last of the men fled as the junk resumed its extension into a massive erection. Hulk's drive was almost subhuman. He drooled and slobbered, writhing completely stationary to work his cock harder. The tip had finally extended and risen enough to press against the ceiling. His enormous arms destructively tried to squeeze through, desperate to reach in front and seize his titan cock. Hulk was a beast in heat, his actions became more unruly with every passing second. Grunts and brutish groans echoed across the compound as the halls were thick with the pungent scent and heat emanating from the horny phenomenon. Every surface near Hulk trickled with droplets of condensation as well as web-like fractures that formed around the green monster. Hulk clenched his teeth, feeling the buildup rising inside his gargantuan member. Spit and sweat worked to lubricate his cock as both hands and pecs were drenched in his juices. The slick fondling of his veiny shaft sent waves of orgasmic ecstasy through the titan. Hulk roared, as loud as he could, shaking the facility with his low, beastly howls to yet another explosive climax. The walls barely held him inside before but now, had disintegrated by the slightest growth of his freakish body. Hulk stood in response to the uncontrollable muscle piling on to each of his limbs, crashing his entire upper body through the roof, colliding with concrete that barely stood against the rising force of his stance. Erupting out into the outdoors, another erotic roar signaled the rest of the compound to his presence. A display of continuous swelling green muscle emerging from the top of the building was in full view for any spectators outside. Hulk's chest was the most noticeable in growth as it rippled outwards, lower, higher, until each hairy, juicy pec overshadowed a fourth of his torso and collided against his burly jawline. From there, his shoulders continued their routine in broadening outwards, away from his thorax as to make Hulk appear wider, leaving room for his arms to swell next. His biceps received the most attention from the miraculous gains. Each bulbous round cutlet of muscle crashed against the pillowy bulk of his chest, jutting each body-wide arm out enough to triple the span of his proportions. Hulk couldn't help but smile as his eyes continuously wandered to every solid limb getting more and more monstrous. Although the fact that he couldn't see past his chest excited him, he wish he could view the size piling onto his cock. Hulk's bottom half was mostly concealed by the remains of the compound with dust and rubble strewn across his growing features. The hot green shaft ate up what room was left inside the hall, pressing firmly against the floor, walls and eventually the ceiling, its flaccid bulk causing even more structural damage, testing the limits of the enclosure. The constriction was already arousing Hulk more and the feeling only tightened as his mammoth sac and ripped legs started to push out with more muscle. A flat wall of veiny cock flesh started to emerge through the crumbling roof in front of Hulk. Its soft bulk atop his massive balls was enough to reach up to his hairy waist. Each growth seemed to make the member grow proportionally larger every time, now reaching a size that compared to the entirety of his lower body. From around the compound, a growing throng of people formed, evacuating the building to see the herculean monster. Hulk was left completely oblivious to the crowd, his one-track mind only fixated on sex and size. The outdoors was already an improvement from being inside the cramped cold space of his lab. So much of his green hairy exterior met with sunlight and arid heat, leaving Hulk relaxed and stimulated. Such stimulation however paled in comparison to the embrace the building had over Hulk's room-filling prick. As with each surge of size, Hulk's cock grew more receptive, more aroused, making every foot of his shaft overstimulate from any touch. Blood was quick to rush through his loins, the cramped interior only growing tighter as his cock hardened, stimulating him more, making him more erect, as the cycle continued. All he could do was feel the building work his shaft steadily, until he eventually heard more of the rooftop crumbling below, and finally his eyes could see the deep green head peaking past his monstrous chest.
  7. 17 points
    All Parts Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 8.5 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | If you haven’t caught our progress up to this point, check out Part 8.5, which is a visual journal of progress that I captured. You’ll see why I can’t keep off of Jeff! And dear readers, it’s come to my attention that I’m a poor host and never really introduced myself! I’m Bryce from here on out ;-) ======================================================================== The weekend got here, and it’s moving day! I’ve finally gotten all my stuff packed and loaded into the moving truck. Thank goodness for my new muscular girth, I got this done by myself in two days. I got a good pump doing it, and broke a sweat. As a skinny guy most of my life, I didn’t really head out into public with a shirt off ever. But now that I had all sorts of new bulges and ripples, I decided, what the hey. I peeled my sweat drenched shirt off outside the moving truck. I heard a couple of unexpected gasps as I realized my two female neighbors were outside. We’d really never talked before, so I couldn’t even tell you their names. My pecs were shiny and glistening, and twitching a bit from loading some of my furniture in. They were involuntarily bouncing, and my light dusting of chest hair was matted to them. They looked like two balloons about to pop. When I heard my neighbors, I raised my hand and waved politely. I heard a giggle and a gasp, and I realized that my bicep was bobbing up and down. “Looks like you’re moving, huh?” one of the women said. The other one ran in the house. “Yeah, moving in with a friend,” I replied. “Well, good luck. We’ll miss having you around,” she said breathlessly. Miss having me around? These women never talked with me, and we only politely acknowledged each other if we happened to be leaving or coming home at the same time. “Thanks. Have a good one.” And I walked back up to my house. As I did, I passed by the other woman’s bedroom window. I heard moaning and panting. “Mmm...muscles...where...was he….mmmMMMmm...hiding thosemmmmmm and his packageuuunnnNGGHGHUHUHUHRRRUHUH” Sounds like I’m not the only one who enjoys my new muscles! I wonder if I should get used to this reaction in public, because I could. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- I enjoyed having the titties free in public, so I didn’t put a shirt back on and drove to Jeff’s house with the moving truck. I got there and he was outside waiting in a tank top that had become too tight in the last couple of weeks of our growth journey, and a set of loose gym shorts. After our kitchen cum orgy, we had to go back and live regular lives for a few days until the weekend. It was work, packing, and getting the houses ready to either have someone leave or move someone in. After the orgy, we found that I was setting in at 160, which was 45 pounds heavier than before we started working out about a month ago. I was in heaven with all this added mass, it was what I had always dreamed of. Jeff had started at 195 pounds, and was now a sexy strapping 230, a 35 pound increase. His tank top showed his muscle gain overly obviously. The straps, which had been wider standard straps, had shredded and were held by multiple thin strands. More than likely his larger shoulders had to tear them to get through the holes. The front, which dipped down 3 inches normally to show man cleavage and chest hair for most average dudes, had ripped about an inch and a half more from Jeff’s swollen chesticles. And his nipples had rubbed through the fabric and stuck out. It practically looked like the shirt was painted onto his abs, and his lats caused the sides to split until they were held together by nothing but an inch or two of seam at the bottom. “Hey Bryce, good to see you dude! It’s been a couple of days. Ready to get to unloading?” “Sure am, dude.” I flexed my right bicep at my side, making a solid ball with a couple of veins pop out of my arm. “These puppies came in handy, I gotta tell ya.” “Yeah, they have their uses,” he said, as he flexed his own right bicep at his side, holding his right wrist with his left hand. A shape not quite as round, more harshly angular with a series of rivers of blood vessels, swelled on his arm. “There are a whole bunch more uses too!” he grinned and snickered. “Well, let’s put ‘em to use now,” I said, and we both got into the back of the truck and started picking up boxes. ----------------------------------------------------------------- About five hours later, we were almost finished. The sun had gone down and it was dark. The last of my items was my bed. I was going to pick it up. Jeff came up behind me, the sweet smell of his working man’s sweat giving him away long before I heard his footsteps. “Just put that in the garage,” he said. “We can sell it later.” “What? No, it goes in my room. I’m not planning to sell it,” I said. “Bryce, you won’t need it,” Jeff said with a slight smirk that should have given him away. “What? Come on, don’t be a jerk, dude. I’m not sleeping on the couch or in the recliner,” I said, getting angry. “Dude! Calm down!” Jeff said, putting his hands up defensively. “You’re not going to sleep on the couch, the recliner, or the floor. “You’ll be sleeping with me.” I stood there stunned. “And it’s bedtime,” Jeff added. “Then let’s get my bed put away doubletime!” I said excitedly. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It turns out we were both more beat than we let on initially, and we collapsed into the bed. Jeff laid on his left side, I laid on my right, and we were both in our boxers. “So Bryce, I do need to tell you,” Jeff began, “what’s up with the growth we’ve been having, and why it’s happening the way it does.” I could tell there was no sleep happening tonight!
  8. 17 points
    All Parts Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 8.5 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | <BRRP> Jeff had collapsed on the couch face down and was snoring away. I can't say I blamed him, I think I had sucked and swallowed all the energy he had in him. His lats slowly widened then shrank with his breathing. Other than that, he was completely motionless. He hadn't bothered to put any clothing back on, so I got the best view of his ripe little muscular ass, two boulders of muscle rolling underneath the skin. I'd gotten a good feel on them earlier in the night, and I could attest to the fact that even though they looked like soft little pillows they were massive twists of sinew and hardened power. His muscular thighs looked like flames of muscle climbing up a gas-covered tree. Even at rest his legs visually carried a lot of motion. And his calves, with three large veins running down them, were in a perpetual flexed state, looking like they could split the skin at any second. I wanted to reach down and rub on my cock till I came. I wanted to reach over and pet Jeff's glutes. I wanted to hump those pillars of valleyed masculinity he calls his legs. <BURRRRRP! Excuse me> But I couldn't. I had nearly double my weight ingesting the cum from the blowjob of all blowjobs that I gave Jeff. I had ingested so much my belly was bulging to the point of explosion. The bad thing is, if Jeff hadn't gone dry I probably wouldn't have stopped. I had drained him of not only his manjuices, but his water weight as well, so he was more bone-dry shredded and vascular than he had ever been. He was all muscle and skin, and the veins were so exposed most of them looked like webs of garden hose. His muscles all had a rough rocky like texture now. <BRRRUUURRRRP! Sorry, excuse me> As I was saying, all I had ingested, I shot from a 125 lb skinny getting ripped dude to a 240 skinny getting ripped dude with a massive cum filled belly that sloshed and prevented me from effectively reaching my cock. I couldn't even actually see my cock over my stomach, which looked like I had swallowed a prize-winning pumpkin...or four. Oddly enough, I didn't feel fattened up anywhere else. My chest was still as it had always been, as was my neck, arms...everywhere except the belly. And even that showed some faint ab outlines I had before, but stretched beyond human comprehension. <BRRURURRRUPPPP! Oh, god, those taste awful> "Dude," Jeff stirred without lifting his face off the couch. "Go get some Tums. You've been belching all night. It stinks, and it's loud." <BRRRURRURUPP> "Ok, I'll see if I can find any in the bathroom." <BRURRURRRRP> Now that Jeff mentioned it, I had been doing this most of the night. Apparently cum gives me indigestion, which I didn't know having never tasted it before tonight. Note to self...next time take an antacid beforehand. <BBURURRP BRRRRRP POOT> Yeah, this was beginning to get a little annoying, I could see how Jeff, as tired as he was, would be pissed to be kept awake by gaseousness. I waddled down the hallway, moving my torpedo tummy around corners with a delicate ease. This torpedo tummy would be all worth it when I bulked up like Jeff did when he drank me out. <BRRRRRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRP> Oh mercy, I gotta find those <BRRP> Tums <BRRPR PRRT>. And this cum belly must be putting parts of my body to sleep, I feel tingly in quite a few places. I flipped on the light in the bathroom and stumbled right into the medicine cabinet. Shuffling things around, I located the Tums and closed the door. <BRRRURURU> Woof, that <BRRRRRRRUUURRP> mmmm what <BRRRURURUPPP> And I looked in the mirror and noticed my cum belly was already getting smaller. It happened each time I burped or farted. And my body grew each time as well. <BRRRUP> And my pecs leaped a little bit. <PRRRTTY> And my lats widened a bit. It wasn't massive movements of growth, but it was definitely noticeable compared to the 125 lb guy that was here earlier tonight. And apparently this had been happening all night long, without any stimulation by exercise like Jeff had. An hour later, Jeff stumbled into the bathroom to check on me. "Hey, dude, you ok? You've been in here a long time and..." Then he looked at me. I mean REALLY looked and saw the 5'7" me, but with an added 33 lbs of shredded beefy muscle. <BRRURRURURRP> Make that 35 lbs of shredded beefy muscle. The cum belly was gone, forging its power into the new muscularity of my body. Jeff stood dumbfound as I struck a double bicep pose. My forearms rippled with new power and delight as my biceps erupted like boulders, trembling with strength I had only ever dreamed of. They were red, because I had been rubbing them in amazement for the last forty minutes or so. The veins in my new forearms rippled like an army of ants at a picnic. My chest looked like two tortoise shells stuffed under my skin, twin plates of veiny, valleyed striations holding together two squares of masculine ferocity. Vascular meaty balls of muscle sat on top of my stomach in the form of two columns of six balls each, leading the eyes down to my 26 inch waist. Thick shanks of vein infested meat were layered onto my legs now. My thighs looked like they could explode at any second, and when I put my hands on them they felt like concrete walls. My calves had erupted in perfect diamond shaped teardrop muscles on the backs of my legs, looking for all the world like they could pop any second. "Jeff...I don't think I'll need to workout in the morning." But Jeff didn't hear me. He had fallen to his knees in a faint daze as his cock simultaneously went steel girder hard and shot a load before it got to full extension. He was so hard I could hear the blood pulsing through his dick. His load made a hole in his bathroom ceiling. He slumped slowly to the ground. I leaned down to break his fall and put his head in my lap. I gently brushed his buzzed hair. Next to Jeff, I was still small, but not as small as I had been. I was where I had always dreamed to be - muscular and athletic looking, and at exactly the weight I thought would have me looking healthy and confident. Jeff moaned a little bit, and rubbed my legs, playing with some of the veins. Poor guy was still exhausted. Like a baby going for a bottle, he instinctively searched for my cock with his mouth, and I slipped it into his lips. Surprisingly, the cock had experienced no growth whatsoever. That was ok with me, I was overjoyed to see these heaping mounds of muscle sprouted all over me. I had my dream body. I wanted more. Jeff sucked a couple of times, then put it into the side of his jaw like a pacifier and fell back to sleep. I came a number of times that night, not in large volleys but in small, delicate amounts. Each time I'd gently wipe away what would roll out of Jeff's mouth. And I didn't miss a chance to worship those squared slabs of manliness on his chest, rubbing his pecs down for the entire night from above. Jeff slept the entire night away laying his head on my lap with my cock tucked in the side of his mouth. About halfway through the night I noticed a mini cum belly forming on him as the night went on. I grinned, stroked his cheek, and rubbed his little mound of a belly with a horny anticipation.
  9. 16 points
    "Unit 246?" Unit 246 recognised the voice of Sergeant Mulligan, one of his non-enhanced superiors. He turned around, and, with an expressionless face, faced the officer. "SIR!" They were standing on a metallic landing between two passageways. A deep shaft continued under them and above them, used by robotic vertical transport, and also allowing some fresh air to circulate inside His Majesty's Battleship Demogorgon. "Follow me to Lab 5. New scientific breakthroughs have to be tested." "I understand, Sir." Devoid of any individual will, Unit 246 followed Sergeant Mulligan to Lab 5. The door opened with a metallic voice: "Security Clearance. L.6. Welcome. Sergeant Mulligan." Unit 246 recognised the room. It was the room where he was born. It was the room where he had become empowered. His Sergeant gave an order to the Medical Artificial Intelligence: "M.A.I.5! Procure Prototype Enhancement formula 7.2.!" A white cylinder moved away from the antiseptic wall, and the metallic voice returned: "Prototype Enhancement formula 7.2. procured." "Pick it up, Unit 246." "Yes, sir." He picked it up. It was a pen-shaped auto-injector of glass and metal. He held it in his big hand, and watched his Sergeant. The body temperature of Sarge was increasing, especially in the genital area. Unit 246 was entirely calm. He had Obedience Mode switched on, and he had Emotion Access switched off. He was entirely calm, and he was ready to obey the next order. "Inject yourself, Unit 246." "Yes, Sir!" He sat down on a chair, in order to relax his legs, did what he was told to do, and injected the Prototype Enhancement formula in his right quad. The needle penetrated the fabric of his camo trousers. "May I remind you, Sergeant Mulligan, that the nanites of Unit 246 have to be reprogrammed?", the M.A.I.5 interrupted. "I am aware of that, M.A.I.5. Heat up the enhancement chamber." "Heating up enhancement chamber." The contraption at the far end of Lab 5 began to hum. "Unit 246, how do you feel?" "Excuse me, Sir, but I do not understand the question." "Correction: Unit 246, do you identify any adverse side effects of the Prototype Enhancement formula?" "Negative, Sir! But the extent of the formula's effects will not be identifiable until nanites are working at 100% efficiency level." "Very well, Unit 246. Enter the chamber." "Sir! Yes, Sir!" Unit 246 entered the chamber, and sat down in one of the reclining chairs inside. The humming intensified. "Unit 246?" The Sergeant's voice could be heard through the loudspeakers. "Yes, Sir?" "Connect to mind-program." "Yes, Sir. Connecting to mind-program." Unit 246 fastened the electrodes to his temples, and awaited further enhanced programming. Calmly and objectively, though immersed in a semi-hypnotic relaxed state, Unit 246 could notice how his height, chest circumference, arm circumference and leg circumference increased, and Unit 246 felt vaguely proud, that he would become more adapted to serve the Galactic Empire as an Enhanced Special Marine Serviceman. Sarge sounded proud too, but sounded slightly unprofessional, where he stood outside the chamber. "Fuck! yes! That's my lad! Good boy! Grow for me! Grow for the Empire! Bloody can't believe it! Why did they delay formula 7.2 for so long time? Could have reached these levels earlier, and made good use for it, in the service of the Emperor. Like they are now delaying 7.3., 8.0 and 8.1... Can't believe the size of your quads, lad. Fuck! Your chest... Like fucking medicine balls. And your volley ball shoulders! Yes, more! Grow for Sarge! Unbelievable traps! Those steel-hard abs..." Sarge had to sit down on one of the comfortable foldable benches. Unit 246 was vaguely aware of, that Sarge shivered and spasmed where he sat at the foldable bech, watching the chamber. Unit 246 couldn't understand why. Unit 246 was so deep into the enhancement process and the re-programming. He existed for the purpose of enhancing his capacity and use his capacity to the utmost, for the sake of the Galactic Empire. The humming decreased. "Unit 246?" "Yes, Sir!" "You may remove the electrodes and leave the enhancement chamber." "Yes, Sir!" The unit did as he was commanded to do. "At ease, soldier!" "Yes, Sir!" "I am inspecting you." "Yes, Sir!" Sarge squeezed the pecs of Unit 246. The Unit continued to look forward expressionlessly. Sarge massaged the trapezius of Unit 246. Sarge placed himself behind Unit 246, with his face in the broad and well-defined back of Unit 246. Unit 246 could feel Sergeant Mulligan's hand on his abs. He didn't move or say anything. Sarge returned to face him, kneeled and put his hands at the quads and hamstrings of Unit 246. They were interrupted by their ear-implants: "Everyone to hyperwarp-protected pods. Preparing for hyperwarp-jump in five minutes. Ansible distress call from Zaztron 4. Preparing for hyperwarp-jump in five minutes. Everyone to hyperwarp-protected pods." "You may go, Unit 246, but before you go: Mindswipe all your memories from the last 60 minutes." "Sir! Yes, Sir!" Unit 246 left Lab 5, and headed for the fast-speed lifts. He left the lift at Level 78, turned left in one of the passageways. It was colder here. Smoke looking like melting dry ice surrounded the pods. Unit 247 already slept inside his pod to the right of Unit 246, his powerful and muscular frame dimly visible through the hoarfrost on the glasslid. Unit 246 sat down in his pod and reclined. Already on his way down in hibernation, he could see Unit 245 reaching his pod on the other side. He rested among his brothers. His brothers in arms. The Galaxy's finest. The best of the best. The unit the civilians for some reason called The Hulk Marines. When His Majesty's Battleship Demogorgon entered hyperwarp, Unit 246 and his brothers were already in deep hibernation. Chapter Two is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13129-unit-246-chapter-two/
  10. 15 points
    Hey, I remember you...Jake, right? You came back, huh? Clearly you didn’t think I was full of shit last week. Yeah, I frequent this place a bit. Bad habit, but it lets me work some of my stuff. Make some people happy. So, clearly something made you believe me. What was it that I said I’d do? It’s been a week. Oh yes. I see it clearly now. Your cock. I’m still being too loud? No one in here is paying attention to what we’re saying. People come here to get drunk, not to eave’s drop. Calm down – I see you pants aren’t. So, let me guess. You left here after I did, wondering what type of bullshit I was selling. About…an hour or two after I left?...you started to feel a weird sensation. It was like you were in puberty again. That dull ache that seemed to be everywhere that you didn’t like then, and you don’t like now. Except you felt it in your balls. You started to have that feeling that your balls might be bigger, or something is going on in there. A day or two later, you probably were noticing that everything that bumped into you made your dick immediately hard, right? It was like being a teenager all over again. It was so horrible – but so awesome – you kinda wanted people to know that this was happening, but not in public. Let me also guess that you’ve been walking around all week, aware of your cock, but also thinking that your pants feel a bit tighter in the front. The wiggle room that you once had isn’t there any more. It’s not much, but it’s noticeable, amirite? Found yourself playing with your junk, pushing it around when you had those two or three moments of being soft, wondering to yourself if it’s all an illusion? Does it actually feel a bit thicker? Does it feel a bit longer? You don’t seem the type to measure yourself, but god damn you wish you started, huh? Am I making you hard, recalling the week? Let me keep going. Tell me where I’m wrong and how I was full of it. I’d bet that last night you went to bed and woke up to a bunch of spasming in your – well, how do you sleep? Boxers? Ok, felt some spasms in your boxers. Cum all over the place, no? Reminded you of entering puberty and having that first wet dream all over again, huh? Did you feel like the pulses were longer, harder, and thicker than normal? Did you find yourself cleaning yourself even more than usual? Yeah, I thought so. Let’s feel. Oh, damn, daddy: you starting to pack. Are you liking this stroking? You twitch every time I get near your thick head. Yeah, daddy, you like this. I’m curious what you’ll look like in an additional week? Can you imagine if this keeps going? Yeah, I’m still pouring those hormones out around you. You can smell them, can’t you? That desire to keep around me? You want me to grow you more. Ooo, your aggression is up, too. Yes, daddy, show me how much more of a man you are. Mmm. Oh, you wanted to see what I did to the other guy? He was here on Monday. I asked his number. Let me see…ah, he’s on his way. Would you like me to keep pushing yourself to see if I can get you to shoot your juice all over the place, right here, right now? No? Damn. Let’s give it another week. I have a feeling you’ll be impressed by my first experiment…to your knowledge… Ah, speak of the devil and he shall appear. The muscle man comes in. I’m happy with how he’s dressed. Look at that tank top on him – do you notice those traps? They’re far more defined than they were last week, huh? See them actually pushing up towards his ears? And those delts on him – the V is far more defined on him, huh? Can you see the thickness separating the three heads of the deltoid? Damn. His thighs are filling out those shorts a bit more – I see his quads separating a bit. Nice bulge in the front too. What, I could have packed him as well. And…ah, I feel you’re getting hard again. *sniff* Hmm, I think you might be liking what you see? I smell you leaking “fuck me papi.” Am I right? Yeah, you feel like I’m right. Do you notice those biceps on him? Yeah, they look more defined than they did a week ago, huh? Notice how his tank is clinging more to this pecs. They’re rounder, aren’t they? They push a bit more out, don’t they? Doesn’t his chest look a bit wider? Maybe his waist is a bit tighter, or maybe its his chest slightly larger? Yeah, you don’t get that in lifting in a week. You get that if you lift for a week, like a mother fucker, and you have some superior genetics going for you. I think I need to give him some more, don’t you think? Oh, you want to join me in talking to him? Sure. Jake, meet my young muscled friend, Christian. Christian, Jake. How are you doing? You look like you’re hitting the weights a lot more. May I feel your guns? I’m kind of a muscle queen. I gotta feel power. Damn. What are these up to? 14”? You look like you’ve been packing onto your arms a lot in the past few weeks. And those veins! Sorry – it tickles – but tracing your veins is just amazing. Shit, you feel solid. Damn, I must be nervous – muscle does that – cuz I’m getting sweaty around you. Sorry, I sometimes smell a bit…yeah, TMI, no? I don’t wanna eat up too much of your time. Just wanted to say hi and introduce you to Jake. I’ll probably see you around. Clearly the beer here does the body good. So, what did you think of Christian? Yeah, I was having a hard time not wanting to touch that chest. You saw those nipples pointing through the tank, huh? Made you want to run your hands on them, under them, squeeze them? Oh, look: he’s turning around. He’s clearly been also working his ass. It’s starting to form that nice bubble, don’t you think? Yeah, he swings your way. I’d imagine that that butt would be a hard thing to split open. Yes, I see your thicker sausage stretching again. Does this talk get to you? You seem to be leaking – yeah, I see your pants, right near your hip…damn. Could you imagine bending Christian over, feeling that broadening back leading to that slender waist, shoving that thick cock of yours into him? Do you think you push harder than his ass could resist you? I’m wondering. You’d like to try? The bartender here keeps the bathrooms clean. He’s pretty good, and as long as you don’t make a mess, he’s fine with you trying out the bathroom with Christian. Haha, you will? I’ll just be here. I’ll wait. … Damn, that was, how long? Shit, that smile on your face. I see Christian hasn’t come back yet…oh, he’s going to have trouble walking? Well, no shit Sherlock, you were in there for half an hour. Was his ass as glorious as we could guess it to be? It was? Fuck. How many ways you fuck him? Six? Shit. I see you’re still hard at the thought of him – feeling hornier than usual, eh? Yeah, I’ve been loading you with more hormones. It’s gonna make you harder, thicker, longer, hornier, and full of so much more cum…yeah, you’re leaking again. Well, go get him. I’m sure he hasn’t moved too far from where you bred him. Shall I see you again in a week? I’m sure you’ll have plenty to show off. Ok. I’ll see if I can make your little muscle boy even bigger for you. I have my ways.
  11. 14 points
    I dedicate this story to GiganticBeast, who asked for something similar to this: Professor Schnackenburg's mistake Chapter One He remember how Ms. Giraud had presented him to his former tutor, Assistant Professor Smith, in the past: "Mr. Schnackenburg – B.A., archaeology student and expert in the occult." They had both watched one of the Indiana Jones films recently, and Josephine ... Ms. Giraud ... already had a sense of humour he had found himself appreciating. Ms. Giraud! Jet black hair, intelligent gaze, great sense of humour. In Schnackenburg's opinion, she had thrown away her excellent talent for archaeology, when she settled for a purely administrative post at the Department for Archaeology. On the basis of the quality of her Masters thesis, she could have been one of the great names in the field, if she had published a PhD thesis. Nor could he understand her preferences, when it came to men. She had never married, and none of her affairs seemed to last or lead to anything enduring, but Schnackenburg had been invited to uncomfortable dinners with her so many times, encountering a string of her several boyfriends: A marine, a builder, a policeman, a sailor. Even a professional bodybuilder once. Not the typical consort to bring to formal university dinners. What was Josephine supposed to speak about with any latest fling? Not strontium analysis of fossil teeth, that's for sure. Hell! Some of these men had upper arms as wide as his legs! It was good for his career, that he had generally hid his personal interest in the occult: It wouldn't have been good for his reputation, if his membership in The Order of the Rosary Cube and Calix Gradalis had been publicly known. Who would trust the scientific rigour of someone, who spent hours in weird meditations? Though the meditation practices had been useful in order to reach heightened awareness, his scholarly sense of critical evaluation had always kept him suspicious of the baseless legends about sunken continents. We now know about plate tectonics: There is no place in real pre-history for sunken continents like Atlantis, or Lemuria in the Indian Ocean, or Mu in the Pacific. After his PhD, he had specialised in two fields: Mesolithic Europe and deciphering unknown scripts, and he now read Linear A, Indus Valley script and Easter Island script fluently. He had never thought, that these two fields would ever converge. The Doggerbank excavation changed all that. Even if he didn't dive himself, he was responsible for the entire project, and he gave the divers – some of them his postgraduate students – careful instructions how to avoid any damage to the finds. When Brock McGurgan, a good-looking blond Canadian student of his, returned to the surface with the tablets and the bronze sword, Schnackenburg understood, that something sensational was going on. It had now been three years since the Doggerbank excavation. He could still remember the scent of the salt sea and seaweed, and he could remember how the hair on his forearms turned into goosebumps when he saw the greenish-gold hints of bronze. He could still remember the sight of the broad-shouldered MacGurgan taking the diving suit off. Doggerland had been a lowland island (but not a continent) that actually was flooded and drowned in the North Sea between Scotland and Norway during the Stone Age, leaving Dogger Bank under the sea level. The hunter-gatherers of Doggerland were not expected to have known farming or metalwork, nor to have any script or alphabet. A bronze sword and stone tablets written with some sort of text turned all expectations on their head. It had now been three years. MacGurgan had assisted him in cleaning the stone tablets, and the lad felt like a son to him. Schnackenburg looked forward to read MacGurgan's PhD, which was soon expected to reach completion: Bronze technology in Doggerland Culture: A revaluation of the Atlantic period. MacGurgan's enthusiasm and cheerfulness lightened up hard work on pollen analysis or dendrochronology. Outside campus, Schnackenburg had once seen another side of MacGurgan, which was hard to reconcile with Schnackenburg's general impression of his student: A drunkard had knocked over MacGurgan's beer by mistake, and the student had over-reacted and beaten the culprit several times. It felt like a block of ice in his gut, when Schnackenburg recollected the image of MacGurgan's undoubtly handsome face disfigured in a grimace of unbridled wrath, his ice blue eyes burning. It was like he didn't know the promising young man he thought he knew so well. Schnackenburg dismissed the memory, and turned his recollection to the hard work and great assistance of MacGurgan in the work on the Doggerland Tablets, as they were now known. Schnackenburg had spent hours upon hours with the tablets. No key to the code. No Rosetta stone. Sometimes, in late hours after worktime it had felt like the tablets spoke to him with ghostlike hollow voices: Howlings of forgotten wraiths and souls adoring long-forgotten unnameable gods. He had checked the results again and again, and forwarded the PDF to MacGurgan, who anyhow wouldn't understand the real-life implication of the translation. Double checked. Triple checked. Was it really possible? Was it decipherable? Could it really mean, what he thought that it meant? "Archaeology professor and expert in the occult". His profession and his hidden hobby merged. The silence of the night hours turned into the sound of his pulse in his ears. Hissing. Throbbing. The city outside the window, lit windows in high rise buildings. Strewn with stars. The weight of millennia resting on his shoulders. Still some scent of seaweed, which didn't seem to go away from the tablets. * * * Brock MacGurgan worked late. He had a deadline on his PhD, and his assistance concerning the Doggerland Tablets took up a lot of his thoughts. Wouldn't it be amazing if Professor Schnackenburg really broke the code of the tablets? What if they were close to the solution? And the sword... There was something with the sword, that spoke to MacGurgan on a deep level. Heroes. Fights. Combat. Victory. Old myths of stormgods battling reptilian elder gods. Old myths of solar heroes protecting mankind. The sort of texts one would expect to find in ancient civilisations. He had seen the Professor staring at the tablets so many times, enchanted by the impossible finds. Similar to the way he himself became more and more deeply enchanted by the sword. Fights. Heroes. With hands covered in gloves, he had taken the sword out of its glass showcase. It now laid unprotected on his writing desk. Bronze sword. Fights. Heroes. Sword of Anghra-Lemur. Wait? Where did that word come from? He wasn't the poetical type of person who invented things, even if he had been an avid reader of sword-and-sorcery novels as a teenager, and watched the children's programme He-Man in primary school. ...Sword of Anghra-Lemur... Stop hallucinating. Stop imagining things. Probably best to stop working late. He needed some coffee. A ping in his computer. Better check it later. After the coffee. Brock MacGurgan took his baseball jacket and walked in the direction of the espresso machine. * * * Schnackenburg trembled. The translation must have turned his rational faculties into a mess. It couldn't be possible. But if it was? His instincts as a trained occultist screamed at him. To avoid the unhallowed relics of unnameable powers. To run. To put the tablets and the sword under lock and key. Or to use it. Use it to prove himself to Ms. Giraud... Josephine. The powers of sunken Doggerland... The powers of Anghra-Lemur! The powers of Kortoth-Gnaah, war god of Anghra-Lemur! When he reached the glass showcase he stared in disbelief. Empty? But the only two having access to the sword were himself and MacGurgan? Frowning, he walked in the direction of MacGurgan's study. A bookshelf with standard works in archaeology. The Bell Beaker Phenomenon. Renfrew. Mallory. Svante Pääbo. Souvenirs from diving expeditions hang on the wall, beside a diploma from a Junior Men's Physique competition. A single task light was lit over the writing desk. The stump of a cigar was lying in an ashtray. MacGurgan's computer was working. The sword was there, but not MacGurgan. Schnackenburg felt as in a fever dream. He picked up the sword, and walked up the spiral stairs. * * * He really needed that espresso. MacGurgan returned to his study. He had to check that e-mail. He opened it. A PDF. A breakthrough. A hypothetical translation: He froze in his position. His blond hair tingled as of fear. He swallowed. He had imagined the word Anghra-Lemur before the e-mail arrived. An atmosphere of unreality lowered itself. Unconsciously and involuntarily he continued: The translation went on and on. The ancient Doggerlendings must have been a warrior culture, similar to the ancient Irish, the ancient Welsh and the Vikings. And they called their island or islands Anghra-Lemur. And the sword... MacGurgan looked for the sword. The sword was gone! MacGurgan had to calm down. What would he do? What would Professor Schnackenburg say? What would happen to his career? He had left the sword unsupervised. And it was gone! He lit a cigar to calm his nerves. No ancient item that could be harmed by the smoke anyhow. He tried to relax, and sat with his faded blue denim jeans in a wide manspread, his trainers resting on the floor. Deep breath. Some cigar smoke. Some espresso. The doors were locked. No one could enter. It was then he heard it. The impossible chanting sound from the spiral staircase leading to the tower room used for honorary social occasions. What in hell was going on? MacGurgan's worry began to turn into irritation. An intruder? Here? His archeological find? He rose from the chair. All his 6 feet 1 inches. He was still wearing his baseball jacket. Some nutcase had to be disarmed and handed over to the police. And Brock MacGurgan was just the right person to do it. * * * The dome gave the tower room a certain atmosphere, and the starry wisdom of the night sky looked down through the circular glass window over his head, but Schnackenburg was deeply in trance while he recited the more than 7000 year old enchantment, invoking preternatural forces which had been left slumbering for millennia. The scent of incense and the flickering light of the wax candles created a mood very far from the sherry imbibing receptions usually held in the tower room. Flickering light. Whisps of incense smoke. Shadows and starlight weavering into something unsettling and unspeakable. "Ye powers of blood and fang! Ye powers of brawn and brutality! Ye nameless ancestors of ancestor-warriors! Ye swordsmen who do not shun the name 'barbarian'! Servants of Kortoth-Gnaah, open ye the gates for the bloodstained war god of Anghra-Lemur, prepare the chosen vessel for divine power, let the ancient powers bestow their gift of prowess and might, as it was foretold! May the sinking of Anghra-Lemur be undone! May the white cliffs of Anghra-Lemur rise over the northen waves! May the last remnant of Atlantis return! May the last remnant of Lemuria the Ancient rise! May the unnameable powers assist me! I invoke Dagon!" One part of Schnackenburg was fully immersed in the powerful invocation. Something happened. The shadows in the room were more dense now. He could sense invisible eyes watching him. The stars shone intensely through the tower window, but not the stars of our time, but the bright night sky of an bygone, lost and forgotten age, far exceeding the 7000 years, that had gone since the sea level rose over Doggerland. Over Anghra-Lemur. Another part of Schnackenburg was silently screaming to him to stop. The dangers, if the invocation really worked, were unforeseeable, and only an insane man would try the attempt to force the elder powers. The cadences of primordial hymns and invocations of another aeon drowned any silent protest in his soul. Primordial hymns reaching out to creatures unknown to modern man. The third part of Schnackenburg's mind was ecstatically excited: He should prove himself to Josephine! He would intimidate any potential boyfriend she may have going for the moment. he would far, far exceed the prowess he secretly admired in young MacGurgan. He would become something beyond human limitations! He would... His pulse murmured and throbbed in his head. Something else throbbed inside his trousers. Arcane power began to tingle in his palms, as he stretched out his hands over the bronze sword on the table before him. Power streaming into the blade, renewing it, empowering it. * * * MacGurgan couldn't believe his eyes. Professor Schnackenburg performed some sort of occult ritual in the tower room, and there was an eerie feeling spreading, more and more intensely. The cigar dangled in his mouth. The baseball jacket couldn't hide his fit – but not extravagantly big – chest. The rubber soles of his trainers caused a squeaking sound on the highly polished marble floor. He braced himself to do something, but the murmuring and droning sound of the witches' rune lullied himself into a trance-like state, and the translation, that had burned into his mind when he had read it on the computer screen, rose from the depths of his memory, as the forgotten creatures of Anghra-Lemur were rising from the maritime depths and the dark abyss of time. Soon, he and Schnackenburg were chanting in unison, and there was nothing MacGurgan could do to stop it. "I invoke Cthulhu! Intervene in dread! I invoke Shub-Niggurath, the goat with the thousand young! Spread the air of revel and ecstacy! I invoke Yog-Sothoth, who is the Key and is the Gate! Open the gulfs of time and space! Cause the powers of ancient Anghra-Lemur to return! May, on the chosen vessel, the powers descend: The powers of Kortoth-Gnaah, war god of Anghra-Lemur!" MacGurgan was out of his mind now. He had a big lump in his throat. He felt very cold and very hot. His pulse was rising. Earlier in the evening he had been absorbed in wordless reverie over the Doggerland sword. It has spoken to him. It had allured to him. Beckoned to him. The sword of Kortoth-Gnaah. Schackenburg was unaware of MacGurgan's presence. "Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah!" Schnackenburg was close to the brink of it now. The men of Anghra-Lemur would walk the earth again, and he would be the one who bestowed it to them: The ancient power of the war god. He couldn't imagine how it would feel, how... "Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah!" ... how the power of supernaturally endowed stone age warriors would course in his veins, how... "Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah! Kortoth-Gnaah!" The next moment, McGurgan snapped the sword away from the table, outside his tutor's physical reach. MacGurgan swallowed. When he came into physical contact with the cold and heavy bronze he could feel a tingling feeling spreading from it into his body. The hair on his head and arms bristled intensely. His eyes widened. He couldn't believe it! He couldn't... "Kortoth-Gnaah! KORTOTH-GNAAH! KORTOTH-GNAAH!" He bellowed the name of the war god, eagerly lifted his sword above his head, and the next second the power of the ancient gods streamed into him. Immaterial thunder bolts rushed through the window in the ceiling. Engulfed him. Absorbed him and formed him anew. Transmuted him. * * * Schnackenburg had been too immersed in the chanting, to react in time to MacGurgans unforeseen action. Staring in disbelief, he could see MacGurgan surrounded by supernatural power beyond imagination, and a cold feeling of fear paralysed Schnackenburg, when he realised, that the chosen vessel was someone else. Remorse, envy and admiration competed within himself when he watched his favourite student become something more than human. Exhausted and destitute of any remaining mental strength, he fell to the floor. * * * MacGurgan couldn't believe it, but the being wasn't entirely Brock MacGurgan any longer, even if they still shared some memories and personality traits. His quads and hamstrings were filled by power from the forgotten Gulf of N'kai. Strength of thousand war gods, thousand thunder gods and thousand solar heroes was poured into his brawn, as if he had been a vessel, and this eager and willing vessel received the blessings, moaning and grunting as his brawn engorged all over his body: Veins spread, his biceps and triceps underwent undreamed hypertrophy, his trapezius deserved the description godlike, and he still expanded in every direction, now far exceeding the height of 6 feet 7 inches. He roared. He bellowed. He demonstrated his superiority to the mere human being who once had been his tutor. He watched the feeble creature: It wasn't worthy to worship him. He became immersed in visions of bygone Anghra-Lemur: Powerful men clad in hides strode over lowland plains proving their valour to each other in combat, and brutal hunters wrestled sabre-toothed cats and mammoths with their bare hands. Some of the same men were bestowed the strength of the gods, by the means once known in Lemuria and Atlantis. The power still accumulated within him. Filling him. Empowering him. Fire-mist descended. Fire-mist enveloped him. Fire-mist penetrated, filled and charged him. He became fire-mist. The immaterial flames of the elder gods reached into his soul, crushed his childhood memories into fragments, but out of the fragments and out of the collective memory of Doggerland, it formed something anew: No subcutaneous fat remained. His now bulging presence was cut and defined beyond imagination. Straps of leather materialised over his shoulders, and formed an X over his V-shaped torso. A leather jockstrap and some furs covering his glutes materialised out of thin air, and he realised that he was wearing pre-historical boots. A belt around his narrow waist carried a bronze buckle with the ancient seal of Kortoth-Gnaah. The thunderbolts increased in intensity. Physical heftiness filled him and became him. In the forge of the divine armourer aggression, dominance and lust melted into one, and he could feel his dick throb inside his leather jockstrap. The god of the barbarians walked the earth anew. The power was his. The might and the force. Brawn beyond comprehension. Mindless orgasmic bliss enrapt him when he felt his physical prowess, and he didn't know for how long he had been entranced. When he returned to any awareness of his surroundings, he watched the mortal on the floor. With a smirk, he performed a double biceps, watching the mortal on the floor. It moaned, spasmed, and a wet stain formed on its leg-clothes. Someone else entered the tower room. The dark silhouette of a woman against the light from the hallway. The mortal looked in her direction. "Josephine? What are you doing here?" "I was returning some files, when I heard thunder from the tower. I..." The female mortal fell silent. The vessel of Kortoth-Gnaah watched her in silence. Then he flexed his biceps again, thrust his hips in a suggestive way, and a current of power crossed the room, connecting the groin of the being and the groin of the female. She moaned loudly, and fell to the floor with a smile, unaware of her surroundings. The being didn't deign to behold any of the mortals, and left the town room. It was on a mission. It would let Anghra-Lemur rise again, and some selected few in this monstrous city of concrete, steel and glass were going to be transformed into warriors of the elder days. When it roamed the streets, it could absent-mindedly hear shouts in panic and rushing steps disappearing. It could hear transport vessels crash into each other, but it was of no concern. It needed the raw material suitable to become warriors of Anghra-Lemur. It found a night-open gym and a leather bar on the same street. It had found its raw material. Soon, the power of Kortoth-Gnaah would enrapt and transform them into suitable servants of Kortoth-Gnaah, war god Anghra-Lemur. The present world was doomed. The elder days would reappear in frenzy, mindless violence and voluptious pleasure. You will find Chapter Two here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13095-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake-chapter-two/
  12. 14 points
    So my roommate is this 6 foot muscle jock with a GIANT porn star sized cock, and he brings the HOTTEST chicks back to our dorm room for all night fuck sessions. Doesn’t even care that I’m in the room! Fuck it… I just whip it out and masturbate ‘till my dick feels like its gonna fall off. Live porn performed right in my own room! F’ing awesome! Last night he brought back three cheerleader sluts that had tits straight out of Maxim, and they were all sucking his dick and licking his balls and ass. Unbelievable! After a while, one of the chicks noticed me wackin’ away over on my bed. She got up, pulled me over to them and started stripping off my clothes! Then her and another chick started workin on me while the third was riding his monster and screaming bloody murder. UNBELIEVABLE! My roommate, who usually doesn’t give me the time of day, looks over at me, smiles and nods. Well one of the girls had the bright idea that it would be really hot to watch two guys fucking… and it wasn’t long before they were in full campaign mode. “No fucking way!” he said, but I was secretly all for it. We all argued for a while until they finally convinced him to fuck me up the ass. (They were threatening to leave and he was pretty drunk.) I got down on my knees and started licking the tip of his dick. “Hey, fucker!” he shouted and shoved me to the ground. I stuck my ass up in the air, he put his cock on my hole, and then unceremoniously shoved in the whole thing all at once. I don’t think I caught my first breath for a full minute. That muscle stud pounded me into oblivion for like an hour with the longest, fattest cock I’d ever taken in my life. My jumbo-dildo I use when I’m feeling extra crazy isn’t even close to being that big! My asshole was on fire! “How does that feel ya little bitch?!” as he slammed all the way in and and all the way out. “You girls think this is hot?” (He was clearly having fun.) I would catch a glimpse as he spun me around onto my back, sweat rolling down his abs, his pecs pumped with blood. The chicks were all giggling, playing with themselves, cheering us on. I stayed rock hard the whole time despite the pain, and my cock was tight up against my belly. I couldn’t stand it anymore staring at his hot face, buzz cut, cute smile as he fucked me hard. I blew all over my face, no hands. Cum dripping from my nose, dripping from my chin, in my eye. The chicks went wild! I let out a huge sigh as he just kept pounding, and then before anyone knew it he pulled out and started spraying all over them too. The cum came out in big globs shooting half way across the room landing all over their tits, hair, faces. It just kept coming! They were all screaming and ducking as he kept soaking them with cum. CRAZY! He just kept laughing and smiling as his foot long monster cock stuck out, still rock hard. “That was nice” he proclaimed. “You got a nice tight ass little buddy.” “Yea, not anymore” I said. “Well whatever. That felt amazing! Who’s idea was that again?” One of the girls confessed, and he started eating her out with vigor. My asshole throbbed, but my nuts were empty, and at least I had a story to tell. “Hey fag! Why don’t ya thanks the ladies for their brilliance?!” he shouted. And so I started eating puss too. As I looked over at my studly roommate his cock was still huge, hard, crisscrossed with veins. He never went soft after blowing all that cum. So for the next hour or so he proceeded to fuck the three babes with his monster tool making them cum over and over and over, rotating between the three like a fucking stud as they screamed in pleasure. Until finally the dorm resident came knockin. Guess we were making too much noise… after all, it was going on 4 AM. The pounding on the door persisted, “Hey! Enough! Time for everyone in there to go home!” Clearly he wasn’t going away. I swear to you, my roommate pulled out, cock dripping, and opened the door butt naked “What the fuck do you want?!” It was a sight to behold, the skinny dorky residence adviser standing in the doorway trying to act tough. My roommate just standing there muscles ripped and pumped up from all the exercise, sweaty, smelling like must and pussy, thick erect cock pointing out at the resident. It was dark in our dorm room, and from my perspective the hall lighting made his muscles pop like he was on a bodybuilding stage or something, sweat glistening, cocky smirk on his face. The resident sheepishly persisted, “Everyone’s gotta go! Out!” as he stared around taking in the sights. My roommate stepped a little closer, towering over the dweeb, “If you don’t buzz off, I’m gonna shove this cock so far”… two of the girls intervened at this point stepping between them, their big round tits sitting up high and perky. The resident did looked shocked, no doubt the hottest babes he ever saw IRL. They managed to slam the door in his face and diffused the situation. “Come on girls”, the other chick said slipping on her shorts and tee (no bra, duh). “Let’s bounce. This is about to blow up.” They all had on the requisite short-shorts and crop tees that left the bottom half of their tits practically hanging out. “Awwwww! Come on!” my roommate exclaimed. “Let’s keep this party goin!” “Sorry Joe, we’re outie.” <giggles> He quickly slid on his skimpy briefs like some sort of underwear model with elephantiasis of the groin, and went running out the door chasing after them, his semi-hard cock barely contained. “Ladies! Ladies! We’ll keep it down… come on and stay!” “Sorry Joe, bye!” And the girls were gone. My roommate comes sauntering back to our room, pushing past the dorm resident who’s still going on like a whiny little bitch. “God damn! Those chicks were hot! I could have fucked them till the sun came up!” “Yea,” I said, taking in the sight of this smokin hot muscle stud. His fat cock and huge bull balls combined together to make an obscene bulging package in his sweat soaked Calvins. It’s always nice to see a straight guy rockin’ some hot micro briefs rather than the usual gay boys. That muscle butt was stretching the tight fabric in ALL the right ways… “I’ll tell you what I’d like to do, pound that little resident bitch up the ass for a while… make him hurt!” “Yea,” I said again. My insides feeling empty. I swear to you my asshole still felt halfway open after being stretched out by that monster. “God! I’m still horny!” Laying half on my bed, I tipped my ass up a little towards him. “You can still stick it in here if you want…” I suggested. “Fuck off!” he shouted, “fag.” “OK, hey, just offering. You said I was nice and tight.” I could see him thinking. I could also see him getting hard again, straining his briefs with his cock becoming erect. Before I knew it he was over to me, the waistband of his briefs slung under his enormous balls, cock now fully hard. “Hold on,” I said as I went for my lube. “Use lots of this.” Joe pounded my hole for a while longer. Felt like an eternity. I directed my screams into my pillow to try and keep things down. God damn it hurt so good. Then, he pulled out, flipped me around and shot load after load all over my face. How much cum did this guy have? It was dripping everywhere. And before I knew it I was on my back again with his rock hard dick back up my ass! I guess that was his MO… cum and keep going. Wasn’t too long before I could feel him convulsing deep inside me, emptying what was left in his balls. “That’s like tighter than the tightest pussy I’ve ever torn up! Geez” He sighed collapsing on his bed. Fat-ass cock resting up on his abs. It was softening but still swole as fuck. “No girl’s ever let me in the back door before. Thanks little buddy.” “No prob,” I said. “No prob.” We passed out together as I contemplated having to buy a bigger dildo…
  13. 14 points
    All Parts Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 8.5 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | They say it's always better to show than tell, so here are some comparison shots I found in an old journal. The first shot in each one is when we hit the gym the first time. The second is after we'd been on a few weeks. The third is after we...grew :-) it should be obvious the fun we were having, and why we could get so aroused easily. And to think, this was just the first part of our journey. I was horny a lot after gaining that mass myself and watching Jeff gain lol that mass!
  14. 13 points
    Chapter one is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13112-unit-246/ Unit 246 Chapter Two They had faced so many enemies, and his men in the Enhanced Special Marine Servicemen company had proved their worth at so many occasions. Sergeant Mulligan remembered the time they defended farmers on Eridanus 2 against radioactive dinosaurs, the time they defended crystal-farmers on Alpha Centauri 6 against mind-eating wind-scyphozoa, and the time they defended miners on Ceres against acid-spouting xenozoa. Innocent colonists against local wildlife – those times he had no doubt. His men fought heroically, and achieved what no ordinary human would have achieved. There were other times, when he did what he had to do, and led his men crushing rebellions. Zaztron 4 seemed to fall in the latter category, but it had to be done, otherwise there could be unrest in the entire arm of the galaxy, as Lieutenant Fforbes had informed him. Sergeant Mulligan cheered at the thought, and felt a sting of envy, of his men on leave in a space harbour – either on a mainland planet or at a space station. When they had Emotion Access switched on, these lads knew how to party. Their toleration of alcohol was off the chart, and then there were the hulk-marine-groupies, as some civilians put it. Lots of women avoided the Enhanced Special Marine Servicemen when the latter were off-duty, of course. The rumours went before them. Then there were those women who sought the pubs and clubs where his men relaxed after work. Well, some men too, but the authorities preferred to hush that aspect down. If any pregnancy occurred, the Empire payed the mother a monthly allowance until the boy – it was always a boy, because of the genetic tinkering – reached the age of fifteen, when he automatically became the property of the Galactic Empire. Sergeant Mulligan watched the central console for the hibernation-pods. They went from yellow to green. His men were awakening. He had to brief them about the mission. * * * The whining sound of shells and landing-vessels. Shouts. Stun rays, death rays and conventional fire. Students throwing stone at hulk marines in battle armour. Max crouched behind a heap of rubble, and wished he was somewhere else. He felt nauseous, and his belly was empty. The protest had began, when supplies of flour and vegetables had been cut off. A planet like Zaztron 4 wasn't suitable for agriculture, even inside greenhouses, and the mining planet was dependent on a steady flow of supply from other planets. The galaxy needed metal. Usually, there were no problems. Starving people a ready to resort to desperate means. A loud noise: The News Tower bombarded – other planets wouldn't know what happened here. It would have felt better if Bill had been here, but it had been eight years now. He had spent six years in school with Bill, and he had always felt so safe, light-hearted and protected when Bill was around. The first two years in school had been bad: The other children, especially the boys, picked on him, because he was so short and thin. When third grade began, the seat to the left of Max was empty, and the new pupil took a seat there. Bill. As an outsider, Bill was shunned by the other pupils, too, but no one dared to pick a fight with Bill, and since Bill and Max were friends, the bullying of Max ended that year. Bill had arrived with his Mom from somewhere else in the system, no one knew with certainty from where. Bill and Max spent afternoons after school playing in the rubble from the mines, or watching children's programmes. Bill's Mom was really nice, but she was often sad, for some reason. The year between their thirteenth and fourteenth birthday, Bill had began to grow, and he grew faster than any of the other boys in class: At age fourteen he was broad-shouldered and tall far beyond the average fourteen-year-old, and he had used his new-won height to carry Max and Tom, another short friend, across the belt of willow-scorpions between the school and the pier. A few months before next birthday, Bill had become silent and moody. Max still remember the day the room to the lecture hall opened, two officials in the black uniform of the Galactic Empire entered, and approach Bill's seat. "William 3285197 Smith?" "Yes?" "Will you please follow us." Bill's cheeks had become blossoming red. "No, I don't want to follow you, Sir." The uniformed men dragged him out of the lecture hall by force. "NO! I told you, that I don't want to follow you!" Eight years. Eight years since that day. He still missed the comforting presence of Bill. Protesters screaming. The stench of blood, innards and death. Max threw up, couldn't control his fear. The clunky sound of men in battle armour marching. One of them approaching. So this was it. He was going to be shot, probably by a hulk marine. Pity. They had been quite impressive when they saved those farmers attacked by dinosaurs. Pity that he would die at the hand of one of them. He looked up. The heavy battle armour towered over him – a hulk marine inside: Buzzcut, big traps (as usual), some sort of camo uniform inside the armour. Then he recognised the face: Older, of course. More angular and masculine, as all of them. But it was, yes it was indeed, his old friend Bill. He was going to be killed by Bill, his best friend. "Bill? Bill, it's me, Max?" "Negative. The designation of this individual unit is not 'Bill'. The designation of this individual unit is 'Unit 246'. "Are you going to kill me?" He didn't know from where the projectile was coming. It could have been protesting miners, or it could have been the hulk marines, but a projectile hit the place where he had stood. He didn't stand there anymore. He was encapsulated inside a part of the battle armour in of the hulk marine who looked like Bill. "Negative. Some civilian hostiles shall be converted. This unit has found you convertible." The hulk marine began to walk away from the battleground, approaching a landing vessel. * * * Chapter Three is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13142-unit-246-chapter-three/
  15. 13 points
    Previous Parts Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 8.5 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 11.5 | Part 12 | Part 13 ==================================================== Author’s PSA: If you’d like to be a part of this story as the cast expands, let me know, I’m happy to work you in! Let me know what you might like to do, be, etc. I take requests, no promise that I can do all of them. ==================================================== It was 5am. Tom and I would head to the gym at 6:30. I was awake and getting ready. I texted Jeff. >>> Dude. You awake? <<< Yeah, stud. What’s up? >>> Soooo...took your advice and got actually a couple of hook ups… <<< Yeah? How’d it go? >>> Well, good I think. My ex girlfriend swallowed a load from me, then we had sex for an hour later. I think she gained 15 lbs of muscle. <<< How large was the load she swallowed? >>> Not large. She caught it in the air like a trick lol <<< LOL! That would have been something to see! How about after? >>> I unloaded a lot into her during intercourse. It was constant for an hour. And I could have kept going but I stopped when she looked exhausted. <<< Bryce, you are relentless, boy! :-) Can’t wait to have you back here lol. >>> LOL! Just don’t make my cock bigger. I already have trouble with the thing now. Good trouble, but still trouble. You should have seen her face when she saw it. <<< Oh, I bet. >>> Odd thing...she pretty much went into extended orgasms without even touching me when she saw my body. <<< Oh? Interesting…although you do have possibly one of the hottest builds around now. That’s a good bit of beef you carry for your height. >>> Yeah, it was odd...and really rather hot too, honestly. And then my best friend, guy who’s like a brother to me, came onto me too. <<< Any orgasming there? >>> Only the one I gave him jacking him off. He didn’t get any of my cum in him, so no growth for him there...but… <<< But? >>> I’m going to make him a shake this morning. And I’m going to lace it with my cum. <<< That’s GENIUS, Bryce! It’s right in line with what I’m thinking about, to see how we can grow others. It looks like getting my cum inside you at this volume has caused a chemical reaction…. Jeff got seriously into science chemistry bro mode, and I scrolled past it all at this point. <<< ...and now you can grow others with your cum too! Spectacular! >>> So hey, just wanted to let you know how things went, and what I’m going to do next. <<< You miss me, Bryce? WIth all that hooking up going on, lol! >>> I miss your pecs squeezing my cock and milking me. Your biceps swelling in my grip, the veins causing indentions in my fingers and palms. I miss rubbing my penis up the valleys in your abs and letting my cum pool around each one. But no, I don’t miss you...just your muscles lol. <<< LOL! I’ll take that :-) Later stud! ====================================== Tom came out of his room into the kitchen at 5:45 in only his gym shorts. In the morning light I could see better that he had really taken to working his body into far better shape than it had ever been in. I remember when he and I would talk about muscles and bodybuilders when we were younger, and we both thought he would be the one with bigger muscles. Funny how that turned out. At least for now. I passed him a 24 oz. shake I had made for him before his workout. “Drink this up. We’ll see how the supplementation works I put in. If you like it, I’ll get you some more.” “Cool, bro. What’s it cost?” “Nothing for you, Tom.” “Awesome, Bry! What’s in it? “It’s the regular smoothie you drink with your preworkout energy booster you like. I added in a supplement, it’s all natural.” He was already drinking. “Tastes good. I can’t tell any difference from normal in the taste or texture.” “Here’s to good things progress,” I winked to him. He gulped the entire thing down. Tom always could scarf food and drink like it was going to be taken from him any second. The shake finished off, Tom slapped the empty glass on the counter. “Man, that was good. It feels a little heavy.” And he rubbed his stomach, which looked slightly more full than a moment ago. “Great! That means it’s working!” I said cheerfully as his stomach puffed up just a little bit more. “Okay,” he said somewhat skeptically, as he rubbed his stomach again. His abs were still firmly in place, but there was a bit more belly bulge and his waist had grown maybe an inch or two since ingesting the shake. “Hey man, trust me. Where do think these bad boys came from?” as I crunched my abs into view. Tom’s cock leapt to attention. “Y...yeah. Okay. Let’s get going then!” We got in Tom’s car, and he took his usual spot in the driver’s seat. “Shit, dude, this stuff is bloating me like a rotting pig!” he laughed as he had to push his driver’s seat back. “HA! Then that means it’s REALLY working!” I thought I’d prepare him for what was going to take place. “You work out in the full gear you have on today?” “Yeah, man. I don’t show it off at the gym, too many other guys and gals there can show off more.” “Well, you will today. Lose the shirt.” I laughed. “Lose it NOW!” He looked at me with a squint of his eye. “Lose it NOW or I’ll take it off you. And you know I can do it.” I grinned, and I watched his cock spring up in his shorts even more than before. “Alright, alright, man. Why so determined?” he joked as he pulled his shirt over his head, bring his tight little delts into full view. “Because the program we start today you’ll want to see the results of as you go.” And then I began to hear that familiar, lovely gurgling from within Tom. “This is going to be FUN!”
  16. 13 points
    Here is a very rough draft I was working on a few years ago. Thought I would share. For visual reference, here is an example of how Randy looks to me: The trailer shook as if a small earthquake was rolling through the ground. I lost my place on the book’s page but felt no alarm. I knew it was Randy coming to get me for some chore. I felt him slow his pace as he shimmied sideways down the hall, his massive muscle gut audibly brushing the vinyl wood-veneered walls of the double-wide trailer. “Hey boy, I need you to do me a favor” he said as his gargantuan frame filled the doorway, hairy gut partially protruding into the room. I looked over to see him shirtless, in nothing but the custom briefs I made for him and his trademark aviator sunglasses. The outline of his swelling cock was obscene. Randy wasn’t even close to full-mast but his dick sat plump in the elongated front pouch at a heavy 11 inches and thick as a beer bottle. It rested high and dropped off of two mango-sized testicles, the whole package straining the white fabric to near transparency. I knew what he wanted; I’d be coaxed into emptying his balls to help relieve the pressure. “It’s been close to 24 hours now. I ain’t gone this long since the first time I ever came” My body was shadowed by the bunk above me, and I felt safe here in my small room. It was only big enough for the bunks and a dresser. It was a crammed little space for sure, however it had one critical feature: the door frame was too small for Randy. The narrow entrance framed his gut, hairy chest cleavage and some of his traps, while the rest of him extended far past the threshold. Going in sideways did not work – his muscle gut and pecs projected off of his body to such a degree that he could not squeeze through. “I’m feeling tired and I really don’t want to clean all that up, Randy” “That’s alright. You can just swallow all of it this time” he smiled. We both knew that was not going to happen. Randy had a problem – he produced semen at an absurd rate, outpacing a normal man by 50 times. He needed to be relieved at least 3 times a day to not be in pain. Despite having numerous clients on the Strip each night, and pumping out a couple of ounces each time, he would usually wake up in a warm pool of his own sticky load meshing and tangling his hairy belly and bush. His clients almost always took care of emptying him through the night, but I was around to handle the morning cleanup – as well as a host of other responsibilities. “How come you don’t just stroke it yourself Randy?” “We out of towels boy. This is gonna be big dump too, I need your help. Don’t want to clog the fucking toilet again either” I was going to stand my ground. I did a lot for Randy, and though I was always turned on by his body, I did not want to deal with the mess tonight. My routine for him was already grueling: I would wake him up each day, him stinking and covered in his own cum from several wet dreams. I’d help him in the bathroom, which was designed like a wet room for a person with disabilities. The room was essentially a large shower (bigger than my room mind you) with a mirror, sink and extra-large toilet. It was a light yellow-cream color and the entire floor slopped to a drain in the center. A flexible hose with shower head attachment plugged into the wall. I would take off his cum soaked briefs and through them in the corner with a heavy slap. I would then proceed to wash off his body, scrubbing off the thick semen with a cloth, being sure to clean his 9 inch soft cock and bull-like balls. “Randy, the answer is no. Just use one of the empty milk cartons” “Come on now. You know I can’t jerk it and hold something in front of my dick at the same time. I need you boy” he sounded more serious. After washing him, I would then help him dry off and put on a clean pair of briefs. He would adjust his massive package to a comfortable angle. The coffee would have been brewed by now and I would immediately begin his breakfast. First the shake, which was easiest. Whole milk, oats, 6 cups of protein powder, cottage cheese, yogurt and some peanut butter. It was gross to be sure, but it was nearly 300 grams of protein. A “quick snack to start the day” he would say. As he stood behind me, naked expect for the briefs barely capable to handle his bulge, I would cook his 10 eggs, full pack of bacon, 12 pancakes and jug of sliced fruit (my idea to help him keep regular). “Go outside then” I said turning my attention back to my book. He grunted like a bull – I was winding him up. He enjoyed watching me cook while he drank his shake and coffee for some reason, only sitting when I had finished and placed all the food on one large platter for him. He would eat like an absolute pig while I cleaned up the kitchen, saving myself a tiny portion in comparison to satisfy myself. Usually Randy would finish before I was done cleaning and would swagger up behind me, leaving his plate and fork by the sink. His big gut would brush up against me in the small space, and many mornings he would grab my plate of food and inhale it in a few bites, not knowing (or caring) that it was reserved for me. I would pause to help him slide on some shorts (again, custom made by yours-truly) and he would squeeze out the front entrance to lift the weights scattered about the trailer roasting under the hot Las Vegas sun. He would be out there for at least 3 hours. During this time I would handle the remaining cleaning duties. “Boy, if you don’t watch yourself, I’m going to do it right here and cover this floor” I would clean the rest of the kitchen and then head to the bedroom to strip the bed and remake the sheets. The fitted sheet and mattress pad would be congealed with his cum, and I would have to separate the fabric from the plastic sheet underneath. This layer was critical for keeping the king sized bed salvageable. It was a laborious task considering the size of the bed and cramped space. With the bedding balled up and sticking to me, I would place it in the washer, always making sure to grab his briefs that were now crusted in the corner of the bathroom. Several servings of detergent was necessary to clean the load (no pun intended). With the wash started, I would then scrub the plastic sheet and tidy up the rest of the trailer. Then I would begin preparing lunch. “Please, let’s not do this tonight” I replied meekly. “Come on, I am exhausted” “That ain’t what I pay you for, boy” Yes, I am essentially Randy’s full time care-giver now. He just couldn’t keep up with the tasks of taking care of such a hulking body alone. At an even 6’0 and 430 pounds of bulging muscle, Randy was an absolute giant of a man. He consumed 20,000 calories a day, went through several changes of clothes and had to figure out some way of disposing of the copious volumes of cum he ejaculated throughout. He needed help. “Randy, taking care of you is more than a full-time job. I need a break every now and then” “I understand that boy, but you need to help me out right now. I am in pain” Randy and I first met a while after he developed his “condition”. He rang up the private, at-home care dispatch I worked for saying he needed someone discreet and willing to work a messy job for good pay. I had been with the company for some time by that point and had seen it all – paraplegics, old-timers, mentally deficient, you name it. My boss trusted me with any client so I was an obvious choice. But I had never had a gig like taking care of Randy. “You know, when we started this whole thing, we had a contract. Eight hours a day, 15 days off a year, and reimbursement for travel. I don’t get any of that now” I said, obviously frustrated. “I pay for your gas!” he replied, as if that remedied the situation. I will always remember the first day I had pulled up to his double-wide trailer, some dump tucked away in the only remotely industrial part of Las Vegas. As I pulled up in my car, I was immediately floored by the colossal man lifting weights in the front “yard”, shirtless and drenched in sweat under the hot sun. He wore sunglasses, cowboy hat and jeans that were ready to burst from the size of his legs. At this point, Randy was only 320 pounds. He stood up to greet me when I exited my car, my hand dwarfed and encased by his sweaty, calloused palm. I was in sheer awe and he could easily tell. His pecs sat like heavy slabs of beef on his torso, casting twin shadows over his hairy belly. Randy’s body glistened with sweat, a stream running down the crevice of his massive chest down to his gapping belly button. I had never seen a man that size before and something in my gaze made Randy smile. “Randy, it ain’t happening so just leave me alone” He was scowling now “boy…you think these flimsy little walls can keep me out?” He informed me then that his testosterone production rivaled that of a large bull, a condition that had randomly begun in adulthood. He told me that he had always been a big guy, but in only 2 years he had gained a remarkable 60 pounds of pure muscle. Our working relationship began slowly but soon spiraled out of control to the situation I find myself in today. Originally I was cooking his meals and helping him with simple chores like laundry. Now I am officially his personal chef, maid, grocery shopper and tailor (a skill I'm still working on). As time went on, Randy kept getting bigger. Though he sports a massive hairy gut, it tougher than iron - a caress while blind-folded and you would swear you were rubbing a marble statue covered in fur. And in spite of his gut's titanic proportion, his chest has kept pace and still exceeds his gut easily with a measurement of 78 inches. His nipples are constantly plump and would be clearly obvious in any shirt he would wear, that is if he still wore shirts. Randy spends about 90 percent of his time shirtless, his hairy belly, bulging pecs and basket ball sized arms on display, usually in a film of sweat that I am expected to towel off. "Little boy, you have one more chance to get off your ass and come drain these balls or I'm going to get in here and pump you full of cum" he growled. His voice dropped a few octaves and I actually started to get butterflies in my stomach. He seemed pissed. Being gigantic is intoxicating for him, and he is always talking about getting bigger. But his size no doubt creates numerous challenges, aside from what I have already groaned about. For starters, Randy is a spectacle no matter where he goes. He typically wears a stringer tank top when he goes out and they hardly cover anything. His burly chest, fat nipples and the top half of his power gut are on full display. The bottom portion of the tank top clings to his gargantuan gut and is tight like a drum over his gaping naval. As for pants, he is always in shorts - fortunately, clothing for the obese fits him well so covering his nether regions is no problem...until you consider his manhood. I turn to look at he strips offs his briefs and proudly allows his veiny cock to enter my room. He is now sporting an erection at 15.5 inches and nearly as thick as a bottle of wine. His cock head features an obscene piss hole which can pump out thick streams of hot cum. The bull is ready. I basically plead with him to wear underwear. Otherwise, his cock and bull balls tend to flop all over the place and sometimes even drop out from the bottom of his shorts. I can still vividly remember us together at a buffet several months back and him standing up too fast - his shirts had ridden up his legs and his colossal hairy balls dropped out of his shorts for the whole restaurant to see. He didn't even notice as he swaggered up to the buffet for the eighth time. All eyes stared as his big balls bounced in the shadow of his gut. Now, the downside of the custom briefs I have made for him is there is no hiding his plump and protruding bugle in public. I routinely see people's jaws drop as they scan his body and focus in on the fruit basket straining his shorts. Randy's baseball glove-sized hand takes hold of his python and he begins to stroke with a smirk. Only his hands are large enough to wrap around his cock. Mine look like a child's next to his erect phallus. "OK boy, you had your chance. I'm dumping this load over you and this little rat hole you're hiding in!" I plead with him to stop now. It'll take me hours to clean up the sticky mess he'll leave behind. No luck. His smirk has turned to a full grin as he pumps his cock harder, preparing to unleash more cum in one go than he ever has in his life. His dick is rock hard and the veins run down his shaft in thick snake like patterns. His hairy bull balls hang low and are swinging with the motion. "HERE IT COMES BOY!" he laughs. I get down to put my hand in front of his cock, and in an instant I can feel the force of his ejaculation as he roars in releif. It stings my hand as if being shot with a high pressure hose and soon my hand, arm and most of my front half is doused in thick ropes of sticky hot semen. I cover my face as I feel it flow into my hair; it runs down my forehead and gets in my eyes. A pool of the stuff forms before me as Randy's heavy grunting slows and he catches his breath. I open my eyes and we both look at disbelief at the volume of cum that Randy has just unloaded on me. He can't even believe it. His semen is all over me and the floor. He begins to laugh in a big booming voice. "I warned you boy! Now clean yourself up and get me a protein shake!"
  17. 12 points
    Chapter Seven In all the years that Mikey Maguire had fantasised about stepping onto a bodybuilding stage, he’d never once considered the possibility that, waiting in line to do just that with a group of equally shredded muscle freaks after having been painted from head to foot in deep bronzed competition tan, he’d be nervous to the point where he’d feel like throwing up. He was desperately trying not to think about the crowd of people on the other side of the curtain, sitting in the audience waiting for Mikey and his five fellow muscle freaks of assorted sizes and heights to emerge. The most monstrous sized of those bodybuilders was stood just a few feet away from him. A bodybuilder Mikey had seen in competition videos on the Internet countless of times before, and who just so happened to be one of the biggest and most well known pros in the world; twenty-five year old All American beef mountain Jackson James Jones. Jackson was nothing short of an absolute monster. Unlike Mikey, who just happened to look like a top five Mr Olympia competitor whenever his superpower came into force, Jackson James Jones actually was a top five Mr Olympia competitor. The man was so huge he bordered on looking like a cartoon character. Comically huge shoulders, obscenely sized pecs, thick blocky abs, insane quads, a ludicrously wide, barn door back, and one of the biggest arses on any current bodybuilder all helped to make up the monstrous mountain of muscle Jackson had the nerve to call his body. With his All American, clean cut, corn-fed looks, he also happened to be exceptionally good looking. The jaws of pretty much everyone in the backstage area had dropped when all 320 lbs of Jackson had casually waddled into the room. Completely alone, he had not spoken a word to anyone. He’d casually taken off his tracksuit to reveal his excessively sized mass in all it’s shredded-to-fuck glory, before picking up a set of barbells and pumping up his enormous sized biceps in a mirror, completely ignoring the gawps and stares from every other person in the room. “Do you think it’s really him?”, “I wonder what his superpower is?”, “If it’s not him then who the hell is it and exactly what superpower is at play here?”, were just some of the questions Mikey had piled on to his friend Pete Potter and fellow competitor Shaun Slater, aka, The Irresistible Ass Man. Both were as curious about Jackson as Mikey was, but neither of them could answer his questions for sure. “It’s most likely not the real Jackson James Jones. But who can say for sure?”, Pete had pondered, before giving another few suggestions. “We could wait to see if his power emerges. Or we could always just ask him”? Mikey wasn’t sure about Shaun or Pete, but the notion of strolling up to a world renowned 320 lbs American muscle God like Jackson James Jones, who also happened to be his favourite bodybuilder, and responsible for more of his blown loads than any other, and casually asking him what his superpower was didn’t exactly seem plausible. “There is another way of finding out his power of course”, Shaun had said, with a raised eyebrow and a knowing, mischievous smirk directed at Pete. Mikey questioned what Shaun had meant by this, but Pete had annoyingly brushed the question aside and Mikey hadn’t probed him any further. He was curious, but if Pete didn’t want to let him in on a shared secret he had with Shaun, then he had to respect that. As he stood in line to face the stage, Mikey’s eyes were fixated on Jackson’s monstrous lats and enormous sized bottom, now spilling out of a pair of shiny purple posers, which was trying, but failing miserably to cover up even a third of his absurdly sized rump. What Mikey certainly hadn’t expected in that moment, was for Jackson to swivel his head around, and, whilst locking eyes with him, flash him a warm and incredibly gorgeous grin. A smile which could even be classed as bordering on flirtatious. Mikey’s heart swelled, and a rush of adrenaline surged through his freak-show worthy, gloriously bronzed body. Was Jackson a massive tease who could sense that Mikey had been drooling over him since he’d entered the pump room (was he really that obvious?), or was something else going on here? The overwhelming increase of nerves that took over Mikey as he stepped from the pump room to the bodybuilding stage wavered, and all but seemed to disappear once he was actually standing on the stage and looking out to the sea of spectators. He hadn’t quite braced himself for what the atmosphere of the show would be like, or what standing almost naked in nothing but shiny, micro posers, while dozens of people ogled, gawped and marvelled at him would feel like. As he stood centre stage, barefoot with the heat of the stage lights beating down on his ludicrously wide back, the loud beats of the music filling the arena, and an audience of about hundreds cheering, clapping, jeering and gasping as they stared at his phantasmagorical physique, any nerves Mikey felt had completely vanished and been replaced by the most intense rush of adrenaline. Drenched in deep bronzed competition tan, and under the intense lighting, Mikey knew that his body had never looked more spectacular. He was almost overwhelmed at the sight which met him every time he looked down and saw the mounds of magnificent muscle mass looking back at him. Mikey had seen his body so many times before, but somehow, in this setting, it looked even more freaky, even more alien, and even more beautiful than it ever had. The sights he was met with as he turned to his left and right were equally spectacular and mind-blowing. On either side of him stood his fellow superpower wielding muscle freaks. The Amazing Abs Man had his arms behind his head and was crunching down on all twenty four of his crazily cut stomach muscles. The Human Road Map was standing with his hand on his hips and twisting and tensing his impressively thick and terrifyingly vascular quads, all the time looking down with a cocky smirk on his face, admiring his own freakish muscle. Bicycle Pump Boy had twisted to his side, and positioned himself into a side chest pose, his mammothly huge tits bouncing off his chest to a glorious degree and his face contorted into the most arrogant grimace. Shaun, aka, The Irresistible Ass Man was blowing up his tremendous sized, croquet ball biceps in a front double pose, his face scrunched in the cheekiest manner, as he growled through gritted teeth. And further down the line, a man who Mikey had shot multiple loads over in the comfort of his own bedroom, was top five Mr Olympia competitor Jackson James Jones, wowing the audience with his beast sized back and ridiculously huge, posing trunk devouring ass in a back lat spread. Every single one of his fellow competitors was showing off their mass to the audience. Mikey suddenly realised that he was the only one not flexing. Instead of feeling nervous, a rush of giddy excitement shot through him, and, giving the lucky audience exactly what they wanted, he geared himself up to crank out his favourite pose. The pose he loved to hit more than any other. With an excitable grin on his face, Mikey lifted both of his arms up, and with considerable force, cranked down hard into a brutal, mass exploding crab most muscular. Mikey was almost taken aback when the audience exploded in loud cheers in direct response to his pose. Hearing the incredible audience reaction seem to ignite something in all of the lads on stage, as every single one of them started crowding around Mikey and belting out matching crab most musculars in response, until all six freaks were hunched over with their traps exploding up to their earlobes, indulging in the ultimate bodybuilding pose; Mikey Maguire in the middle, revelling in the glory more so than any one of them. His only wish was that he could somehow see what the audience were seeing. If only they’d erect a huge mirror at the back of the auditorium. Or at least catch the whole scene on camera and project it so that Mikey and his fellow competitors could watch themselves cranking out, flexing and tearing up the stage. He wondered what was going on in the minds of the audience members as they stared at the six muscle freaks on stage showing off their mighty mass in their tiny, shiny posing trunks. Most of them were probably wondering just who Mikey was, where he had come from and what his superpower was. Many of them were probably fantasising about what it would be like to be as huge and monstrous as him and stand on stage, being ogled at and adored. And he was fairly sure a considerable percentage of them were currently turned on and battling huge boners in their jeans at the sight of the bronzed, shredded muscle bulls before them. He knew that his friend Pete was sitting somewhere in the audience. Maybe the man who had signed them into the venue was sitting there too, and maybe the insanely cute Tom Daley look-alike with the black specs was with him, looking on with the same look of awe he’d given Mikey earlier, his hands in his lap, desperately trying to conceal his growing hard on as a bunch of obscenely huge muscle bulls cranked out matching crab most musculars before him. Mikey’s adrenaline didn’t waver for one single moment throughout the entire prejudging part of the show. He flexed and posed without ever feeling tired (a nifty side effect of his superpower) and soaked up every second that he spent on stage, showing off his otherworldly body. But no moment was greater for Mikey than when he was stood in between Shaun Slater and Jackson James Jones, being cheered at by the audience in the final comparisons round. If the gawps, gasps and stares of the people in the street made Mikey feel like a freak, the show's audience reaction to him, and the two monsters either side of him made him feel like a God. As he, Jackson and Shaun blew up their magnificent biceps to a rupture of applause, a thought raced through Mikey’s mind. What if being a bodybuilder was what he was supposed to really be? And then more thoughts flooded his mind. What if this was his destiny? To be the biggest and best superpower enabled muscle freak on the planet? To be one of the greatest bodybuilders in the history of the Annual Superpower Games? Or maybe it was his destiny to be the most worshipped muscle monster in the universe? Maybe he was supposed to go out into the world, find any and every man with a penchant for huge, shredded bodybuilders and help them fulfil their ultimate fantasies of worshipping a real life muscle bull? And what if he’d gotten his superpower wrong? What if he wasn’t a lad who could transform his ordinary sized body into a hulking mass of worship-worthy muscle whenever he liked? What if he was supposed to be a once ordinary sized man who one day transformed into a 300 lbs bodybuilder, and stayed that way forever? Mikey was unexpectedly pulled from his thoughts when, mid way through an abs and thighs pose, with his arms around the back of his head, and his blocky abs protruding through his stomach like huge rocks trapped under his skin, he suddenly felt something alien brushing against one of his monstrously thick and ludicrously details quads. Mikey felt like his heart had caught in his throat as he looked down to see Jackson James Jones moving his fingers up and down the crazy feathering in Mikey’s right quad. The audience were going crazy as Mikey furiously blushed and tried to comprehend what was happening. Jackson, with the most devilish grin on his utterly gorgeous face, then went one step further and started giving Mikey’s quad a couple of playful slaps, causing Mikey’s expression to uncontrollably merge into a bashful smirk, and the bulge in his shiny black posers to pulsate with sudden force. As Jackson moved his hand away, his eyes met with Mikey’s, and he gave him a similarly flirtatious grin to the one he had when they’d been queuing up backstage. A flustered Mikey looked down at Jackson’s enormous quads, only slightly bigger than his own, and exploding in insane detail. Should he return the playful gesture, and give one of Jackson’s alien quads a cheeky slap, he thought? Mikey considered it for a moment, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. The only muscle he’d ever touched was his own. To feel and touch the huge, shredded muscle of another freakishly sized bodybuilder was something he’d dreamed of doing for so long. It meant too much to Mikey to do it in this setting, in front of hundreds of cheering and laughing audience members. But one thing was definite; having Jackson’s hands on his quads had felt amazing. As had the moment where their eyes had locked, and Jackson had flashed him that absurdly gorgeous, heart melting smile, and all of Mikey’s questions from earlier suddenly rose to the surface again. Was he in the presence of the real Jackson James Jones, and if not, then who the hell was this person beside him, and just exactly what incredible superpower did he possess that enabled him to morph into the body of one of the world’s best bodybuilders?
  18. 12 points
    All Parts Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 8.5 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Jeff leaned himself up on one arm on his pillow. In the slight light of the moon through his window I could see his bicep bunch up and a couple of veins engorge themselves as he rested his head on his hand. His shoulder swelled and brushed his ear. “I had an idea that I would grow the first time I gave you a blow job. It was something I’d forgotten about because it had been so long ago, and I remembered it after we had gotten rolling.” I propped myself up on my pillow by my elbows. I was still getting used to the swollen cleavage that would billow outward on my chest when I’d squeeze, and I slightly aroused myself. I realized after a few minutes I was unconsciously running my thumbs up and down my cleavage. “Jeff, I figured out by this point it’s got something to do with cum, am I right?” “Yeah, Bryce, you’re right. What I can’t tell you is chemically why it happens. That, I have no idea. But I can tell you what I know from my past history, and what I gather is happening now.” It was then that I remembered that Jeff is an intelligent analyst, a fact I could easily forget in our throes of bodily lust. “When I was 15, I was skinny as a twig. 5’11, 95 pounds. I was a runner, and I had tone but no bulk. I began lifting weights, and I saw some small gains, but nothing to make me stand out in a crowd, y’know? And my running always kept size burned off. And the ladies didn’t notice a skinny-ripped runner then.” I couldn’t believe it. “You weighed less than 100 lbs at 15? I’d find that hard to believe. You’re over double that weight now at 27 years old.” “I know, but it’s true! The only muscles I had to speak of those days were skinny guy abs and some absolutely shredded calves. Not huge, but freakin’ shredded.” “So? What happened? How did you turn into…” and I groped his bloated left pec, “...this?” “It was the summer before my sophomore year in high school. I was out of town and staying with my cousin, who was a couple of years older than me. He and I would train in the gym. My cousin wasn’t big, wasn’t jacked, but he was athletic. He played baseball and ran track. 5’10”, 170 pounds. Not shredded, but very toned. He decided he would help me try to beef up so I could try for some other sports. “I’d been there for a couple of months, and I hadn’t really made much progress. My body was harder, but I wasn’t putting on any weight. I went to the gym my last day there without my cousin while he had an out of town appointment, and I ran into one of the largest men I’d ever seen. He was a few years older than me, probably just starting college. He’d seen me there before and offered to spot me on a bench press when he knew I was there alone. “He was probably 6’6”, maybe 350 pounds. Shredded to the bone and as big as a house. He looked like a walking pillar of concrete. He didn’t say much. But at the end of the day he asked me if I was looking to get bigger. Of course I told him yeah, but that was my last day there and I’d be headed back home out of town. “I was mesmerized by how built he was. I didn’t want to be that big, but I really dug the idea of getting bigger and jacked. He told me he could help me, and told me all I needed to do was play around with him for one afternoon. “It was my first time ever with a guy, and I didn’t really know what to expect. It turns out he just wanted some worship and a good sucking.” “And?” I asked in anticipation. My cock was awakening. My nipples were stirring. “Well, I sucked him enough to get that big belly like you saw awhile back, and like you had. He then had me do a series of full body exercises and my body grew 60 lbs of ripped muscle that day.” Jeff rolled onto his back and put his hands behind his head, big beefy wedges of meat swelling on his arm, sharp jagged boulders of granite rising above the elbow, threatening to tear through his skin. He licked one of them. “Wow...that’s amazing,” I said. My cock was stuck against my left leg in my boxers. My nipples were massaging my forearms that were crossed in front of them. I began rubbing my bicep boulders with my fingers, hardening them as I did. “Yeah, and I hadn’t been with another man since until you. So I had forgotten all about that, all the rest of my gains had been with the football team in the gym since then. And like you saw when we first met, my gains had faded just a bit since I didn’t workout regularly for a year.” “So...Jeff, when you drank from me…” Jeff reached down and rubbed his groin lightly with one of his hands. “Yeah, it reawakened whatever’s in there.” Jeff bounced his pecs a few times. “And whatever’s in there with you, it pushed into me and made changes.” “Yup!” Jeff grinned widely with his teeth. “You like it?” He squeezed his pecs together, forming a deep trench that started at the top of his neck and went down to his rib cage. Little stubbles of hair were showing, as he must have shaved this morning. I jumped out from under the covers and sat on the bed cross-legged. “Oh yeah. I’d dreamed of having muscles like this all my life! And now I do and it’s wonderful!” I struck a crab pose and nearly creamed down my leg as blood filled my entire body. “Awesome! I thought you might like it!” He reached out and put his hands under my pecs and bobbled them up and down. “These were always my favorites.” My cock started crawling painfully out the leg of my boxers. “Mmm, mine too. I like these guys a lot too,” and I flared out my lats. “The wings are fun! In some of the locker rooms, you’d be considered a small guy.” I rubbed my hands on Jeff’s bowling pin forearms, tracing the veins that nowadays were always bulging and present. “I’m not small to me, that’s the biggest thing. So…what happened when you had sex with your ex-wife? Did she change?” “Oh, yeah, and she didn’t really like it. That’s why we didn’t have sex much. She worked out regularly before, but when we’d have intense sex and I’d pump her full, she’d work out and get ultra toned...and her boobs shrunk. Women that lift...some of them join the Itty Bitty Titty club because the fat there turns into muscle. I thought she looked incredible. She, not so much. So...we didn’t have much sex after that. And then I met you!” By now my cock head was peeking out my boxer shorts leg, and it was hurting. That thing wanted to be pointing at attention. Funny how it had never been able to snake out of my underwear until a few days ago when I had a few inches get added to it. Funny how I’d never been this horny until a month or so ago. Jeff continued, “As near as I can figure it, this is how it goes.” Oh boy, he was really in analyst mode. “1. When you came in me and I worked it off, the growth went straight to the places I worked that day. So that’s pretty straightforward. 2. When I came in you, I came to a much more extreme level than normal. You grew instantly over your entire body because it put you into a bit of shock as your body couldn’t process that much cum. 3. When I sucked on you over night in the bathroom, it slowly filled my belly but not to a huge amount. I never worked it out as I was exhausted. So after a few days, it traveled to my cock and grew it. 4. When you were going to cum and I stopped you, it backed up and instantly grew your cock and balls. 5. I’m guessing we didn’t have any reaction in the kitchen because the cum didn’t have a chance to get in through our skin before we cleaned it off.” I just stared at Jeff. “Wow. That’s quite a theory.” Jeff put his hand up my boxers and scratched the bottom of my dick. “Yes. Yes it is.” I began to throb and bob and push further up and out. And with that, he used the power in his forearm to pinch my dick once again. It was trying to fling a volley so hard that the rest of my body convulsed and I gasped for breath as my eyes bulged outward. Rope thick veins enlarged from my dick up through my abs, gaining size as they went. After about ten blocked pumps, my cock went limp and I got my breath back and Jeff let go. He pulled his hand back, tearing my boxers off as he went (I really need to talk with him about the amount of my clothes that he destroys, he’s going to break my clothing budget). Then I noticed my cock stick its head out further, like a turtle pushing it’s face out of a shell. 1 inch...2 inches...3 more inches than last time. It got thicker, enlarging like a balloon, still limp. I stood up, and it fell almost ⅔ of the way to my knees. Jeff put his hands under it and lifted it up and down. “I could get a serious workout lifting this thing. Looks like that theory is proven!” I felt the ferociousness from earlier welling up in me. “I want to prove another theory or two.” And I bent down and tore Jeff’s boxers off (because turnabout is fair play) and pulled his soft cock into my mouth. Jeff’s larger cock went down to his knees when let loose, but it still wasn’t a problem for me to stuff it into my mouth along with both of his balls. “Mmmm...yessss!!! T-t-take it a-a-allll innnnmmmmmm,” he moaned as I tickled and stroked and fondled every inch of his manhood with my tongue, lips, teeth and throat. Jeff dropped to his knees, then collapsed onto the floor involuntarily due to the high level of pleasure he was experiencing. His eyes rolled back into his head and grin of stupidity laced ecstasy covered his face. He had turned once again into a limp muscular rag doll as I drank him in. His muscles tensed on and off throughout the night. He wasn’t in analyst mode now. I drank from Jeff all night long - seven hours to be precise. In fact, I drank until he looked like I was not only drying him out his seed but dehydrating him as well. I had made a dark purple, almost black hickey out of his cock, balls, and hairless groin. I could have kept going for hours more, but I wasn’t sure if Jeff could handle it. His cock was still big, plump, and semi-hard. But his balls were shrunken, like they had been turned into raisins, shriveled and near lifeless. I got off of him, sloshing around my newest cum belly. It gurgled and my stomach felt hot and steamy. My abs had completely disappeared this time, and I had so much in me this time that my pecs had turned into droopy tits. I checked myself on Jeff’s scale - 350 pounds. Wow, Jeff’s cum had more than doubled my weight this time, and my belly was much larger than before. It bulged out so far my arms, still muscular, looked like little stubs. Jeff was lying on the floor, naked in a heap. He was awake and aware, but worn out. He looked beautiful, his rocky body glistening from the huge amount of sweat that had covered him and me for the past seven hours. His magnificent physique heaved to and fro with his breathing. I couldn’t take my eyes off his chest, like two watermelons shoved under his skin. He was still flexing his pecs, that gorgeous canyon gaping and calling to me. I waddled up to him and traced my hands through the cleavage canyon, losing my fingers up to the palm in it. As he continued to flex and unflex, I got off on the pressure his pecs were producing. “I...knew that was...one of your...favorite….parts,” Jeff said, his words pushing out between forceful breaths. “Have some fun, bro,” he smiled as he looked up at me. I slipped my cock, which was probably 14 inches hard, in between his pecs and gyrated up and down while he laid flat on the floor. “You just keep doing what you’re doing with those tits, champ.” I let Jeff’s pecs jack me off for a few minutes, then I slowly moved upward until my cock was taken in by Jeff’s mouth. My virility was in overdrive, and I was about to blow like a volcano, so I practiced one of Jeff’s tricks….I pinched my cock with all my might. As I powered through another reversed ejaculation, I noticed that once again my cock grew in length and width...all inside Jeff’s mouth and down his throat. Jeff’s eyes got bigger and he had to open his mouth wider. He gagged and a loud, “Mmppph!” came from his throat. He smiled (as much as he could with a meat monster packing his mouth full), and puckered around my member like it was the coolest popsicle on a hot summer day. Within seconds I came. It took Jeff by surprise as he lurched like he’d been stabbed. I must have continuously cum for ten minutes. I had cum so much it was leaking out of Jeff’s nose and he was having to breathe out of the sides of his mouth. It was dripping from his nipples, and coming out of his tear ducts. But he kept going. He sucked me for another twenty minutes, and my volume never stopped. I heard a grotesque stretching noise, like someone rubbing an inflated balloon, and I realized it was Jeff’s torso. It was bigger than mine. His arms and legs were like puffy marshmallowy stumps. I pulled my cock out of his mouth, having to gather it like a water hose. I was no longer hard, and was too tired to get either of us back in the bed. “Dude...Bryce” he said in a hoarse voice. “I...I don’t want to be bigger...I was happy...the way I was…” And with that, he fell straight to sleep. Before I did, I slipped his scale under him because I’m a curious type of guy. Every time I moved him, his innards sizzled. Something inside him was cooking, and he was warm to the touch. 525. 525?!?!?! And with that I couldn’t keep my eyes open. I fell asleep on the floor next to him.
  19. 11 points
    A couple months ago we lost Silicondog's Muscle Fiction Shrine. I was digging around in some old files I had and found that I had grabbed a backup of the site before it went down. This archive that I'm putting up is back from January 2017 and like the original site doesn't have absolutly everything but has most of the stories to be preserved. This backup serves as an archive of the site and is available for all here: https://silicondog.muscle-growth.org/
  20. 11 points
    Previous Parts Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 8.5 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 11.5 | Part 12 ==================================================== Author’s PSA: If you’d like to be a part of this story as the cast expands, let me know, I’m happy to work you in! Let me know what you might like to do, be, etc. I take requests, no promise that I can do all of them. It was fun making plans for others! ==================================================== Melissa woke me up in the middle of the night. It wasn’t by snoring or sleeping oddly next to me. It’s that I heard a familiar gurgling and sizzling coming from her! She, however, was out like a light, naked in bed. I was grateful to be awakened by that sound, as a part of me was afraid with whatever’s gotten into my spunk that I had gotten her pregnant and it was rapidly accelerated. I knew neither of us wanted that at this point. The change was slow, but I watched as Melissa’s arms firmed up. She had always taken care of herself, and it showed. She had been a lightly toned young fox, but now she was growing some muscle on top of that. Her shoulders bulged out and her triceps inflated a bit. Her biceps got one solitary light vein running down them as the crevices separating her bicep from the rest of her arm formed and deepened a bit. Her breasts got a little bit smaller, and point forward more as the pecs underneath them grew more firm. She already had a flat stomach with a sexy line running down the middle of them. That flat stomach became a bumpy road with peaks and valleys as four abs leapt into view. Her lats pushed her arms out just slightly and her ass expanded and grew very hard. Her hamstrings, however, didn’t share the same amount of light growth that the rest of her body showed. They leapt out with a vengance, making her legs resemble large slabs of beef in a meat locker. Same with her calves, forming heart shaped diamonds on the backs of her legs. And with that, it was done. I guess her arms may have put on two inches of muscle, and she might be about 15 pounds heavier. She had gone from the attractive girl next door who was a treadmill bunny to the attractive gym user who had put in a decent amount of hard work, with athleticism oozing from her body. "Bryce, I'd really better go before Tom finds me here," she said groggily. "OK, let's get you out the window, just like the old days," I chuckled. But I definitely thought it might be a good idea to hide her from Tom. Not because he'd be weird about me having a girl at his place (it was far from the first time), but the muscle growth might cause a lot of questions I wasn't ready to answer yet. I picked her up (an easy task with my recent surge in strength and power), and helped her out of bed and into her clothes. I could already feel the increased power and size writhing underneath her more taut skin. Then I lowered her out the window gently and watched her new canyons and crevices catch the moonlight, casting all manner of erotic muscular shadows all over her body. I put on some shorts and left the room to go to the bathroom. While I was in there I jacked off again, and again after that. Tom had just gotten home and was in the kitchen. He hollered my way. “Bryce? Hey brother, how are you? I didn’t think you’d be awake.” I came out of the bathroom wearing only my shorts. Tom audibly gasped. “Wow, brother! You mentioned you had been working out, and it shows!” He squeezed my deltoids. “You blew all up!” “Yeah,” I said sheepishly. For some reason it embarrassed me a bit for Tom to see the new me. “I have been hitting the weights, eating better, taking good supplements,” I half fibbed. I just didn’t tell him what the supplements were. “You’re not looking too bad yourself,” I said. “How many you hiding under there, two? Four? Six?” I asked as I grabbed his shirt bottom rapidly, raising it up. “Hey, that’s a nice little ab garden you’ve got going!” I said as I gently punched them. “There are four plain as day, and two more coming in. Way to go dude.” I rubbed them gently, and at that he glanced up at me with a puzzled look. “Th….they’re nothing like yours. Bryce, there...there are ten abs I can plainly count on you…” “Twelve in the right light.” Tom gulped heavily and sweat was appearing on his brow. He pulled his shirt down. “Yeah, I’m up to about 160 now.” He rolled his sleeve up to his shoulder and flexed his biceps. “I’ve made a lot of progress here.” I reached up and moved my finger over Tom’s swollen mound, at least a firm 12 inches. The last I had seen him a few years ago, he was only between 8 and 9 inches. “Bryce...let me s..s..see yours.” I couldn’t pass that up, so I threw up a double bicep with my eighteen inchers. Tom sat down quickly in his recliner, about to pass out. “Tom, whoa, you ok buddy?” I went over to check on him, he was sweating profusely. I leaned on the arm of the recliner. “Let me get you…” And with that he pulled me in and kissed me. Quite aggressively, I might add. After a few seconds he let go. “Wow, Tom. Thanks!” I said. “Bryce, you’ve….you’ve got a dream body. I just want to….” I smiled. “I think I know. Stand up, brother.” He did. Without removing any of his clothes, I unzipped his pants and put my hand down his underwear. Then I grabbed his cock and tugged on it inside his underwear. It was already rock hard, a good 9 incher. Tom and I had seen each other naked many times, and we’d even experimented around with each other’s cocks. But it was the first time he’d allowed himself to be completely submissive. As I tugged on his cock with one hand, I pushed his pants down with the other. His pants fell over firmly toned legs that showed a nice teardrop forming above the knee. His calves had some good shape, his shins were no longer pipe cleaners. After his pants came off, I rubbed my free hand up his abs and over his chest. His pecs stood off of his chest. Formerly flat chested, he had built up some respectable muscle on his chest. As I rubbed up, he flexed and bounced his pecs, the sign that he’d gained enough muscle to have some fun with the pecs finally. I pushed and pulled on his cock from behind as he moaned and leaned his head back. He had about a half foot of height on me, but my size kept him balanced forward. I didn’t jack him too fast, I wanted him to savor and enjoy it. WIth my hand on his chest, I ripped his shirt off from the inside. Then I reached around and grabbed his cock with my second hand and two handed him for a more safe grip. I continued lightly pulling and pushing on his rock hard cock, which was turning dark purple at the head from the amount of stimulation. “Oh...b….Bry...Bryce...I’m so hard...I’m going to rip through my skin….” he gasped through the moans. I continued to push and pull. And soon I gave one good firm pull with both hands as Tom fired his load into the air, hitting the ceiling first, then landing on his feet. I held the pull for a good ten seconds, lifting Tom off the ground by his shaft. He shot bullet after bullet at the ceiling, and this time it stuck.A steady stream of extra jizz rolled down my hands as he throbbed for a good minute more. Once I could tell he had done what he needed to do, I let go, and his cock shrunk back to normal size. I eased him back into his chair. “So, Tom...I take it you dig what I’ve got here?” as I struck a most muscular that bulged 90% of my body’s veins through my skin. “Yeah, Bryce. I do,” he said, as he stroked his soft manhood a bit more upon seeing the veins. “Tell you what, I can hook you up with a plan and some supplements before I go. How’s that sound?” I said, flaring my lats out to the point that my arms were completely horizontal. "I think I'd like that, Bryce. When can we start?" I got giddy inside. "How about tomorrow morning? I'll go to the gym, get you on my supplements, and we'll work out together." "You've got a deal, Bryce. I'm gonna head to bed. Let's head out at 6am."
  21. 11 points
    Oh, hey. Sure, you can buy me a drink. Thanks. Hmm, you think there’s an aura about me? Why do you say that? There’s something about me that seems different…that, feels different? Yeah, let me explain some things. Some of you would call it magic, or godly powers, or something stupid like that. Not saying you’re stupid, but the ideas are. Kinda. You hear of these people who can squat 1000 lbs, or have 20 inch biceps, or cannot get sick, or something else that seems cool that you wish you can do…and then you try to figure out how they did it. Those things fall, sorta, within the normal realm of human possibility. But what about those people who get hit by a truck and survive? What about those people who somehow hit growth spurts in their 30s and 40s and gain inches…everywhere? What about these people who seem to fly, or can lift anything they want, or cum a gallon or more? That shit is clearly made up, right? Or, as we humans like to attribute such things, it’s clearly the work of magic? Y’all watch those Avengers movies and think that’s all made up, because it can’t be real…. I’m here to let you know that it’s not magic. It’s science. And I tell you that because I’m one of those…well, freaks, if you will…and I know how I do what I do. You see, I have a gift. It took me a while to figure out my gift, but I got it none-the-less. I’m calling it a gift because it’s actually possible for any of you to do this – but, for whatever reason, I can and you can’t. I have the ability to change your body to, well, a lot of things. Not everything. I can’t make you a fish, and I can’t make you 30 feet tall, and I can’t make you sprout an extra cock. I’ve tried, it doesn’t happen. Without going into too much detail, we are the product of two things: the environment around us, and our genetics. Nothing is one hundred percent one or the other. Why are you short? It could be your genes, but it could also be your environment. It could also be both, which sucks, but such is existence. I can’t do much about the environment, but I have the ability to influence your genetics. No, I don’t rewrite your body’s genetic code, but I can mess with your genes’ expression rates. There are these funky chemicals we give off, called pheromones, that help dictate gene expression. Again, I don’t understand this part, but I can control which pheromones and gene regulators I secrete into the environment around me. You sniff them in, you absorb them through your skin, and boom. I am now changing your genetics. The skin’s the best, though – direct contact. I’m also pretty good at detecting pheromones, which is weird for guys. We don’t typically pick up on this stuff as well as women do. That’s why they’re always ‘oh, I have a bad feeling about this person,’ and all that catty shit. They’re reading pheromones. Maybe it’s because I can deal ‘em, I can detect levels of pheromones being given off. Some of them are hormones excreted by your skin, which aren’t in high doses, but I can tell. Yeah, I can sniff if someone’s in heat or got performance issues or even if a person’s got cancer. That lady over there, talking to that guy who wants nothing to do with her? Her FSH is off – the – chart. Oh, you don’t know what that…nevermind. I don’t know how many of you took high school biology, but let’s summarize a whole lot of shit you don’t remember succinctly: fucking with genes takes a long time, because there are lots of things going on. If I walk past you and release the chemicals to make your muscles grow, you aren’t going to gain 30 pounds in the next three seconds. That’s not possible, and your heart couldn’t handle it. I can’t make you gain ten feet in height, because your body couldn’t handle pushing blood up fifteen feet into the air. There are limits to these things, ok? Science is science. I just can fuck with what science lets me. Oh, you don’t believe me? Ok. Let’s do an experiment or two. It’s gonna take some time, so you gotta be patient. See that guy over there? The one talking with that tall guy having one too many Guinesses? He’s trying to gym consistently and he wants to gain some muscle. How did I figure that out? You’d expect me to say I can “read minds,” but that shit ain’t possible. Ever try to figure out your own thoughts? Yeah, exactly. He’s like 5’5”, maybe 100 lbs, and he’s wearing a LVFT shirt. People who don’t lift, or want to lift, typically wear that. Shall we verify? Told you. Oh, I said he has a nice brand of shirt and he smiled and said he’s been hitting the gym for about a month. He’s frustrated that the growth isn’t as fast as he’d like. Why did I touch him on the arms? Ah, you weren’t paying attention, were you? Touch is the best way to deliver the pheromones. I got them to concentrate on my left hand, so when I asked to see his progress – yeah, he’s trying – I had an excuse to feel his arm and, boom. I had to apologize for having a “sweaty palm,” cuz I left his arm wet. I made sure I poured out a lot for him. Had to have an excuse, so I blamed it on the heat. It’s always hot in this bar, which sucks cuz the drinks are good. He said he comes here regularly, so I said I’d get him a drink the next time I’m here and he is too, which is next Thursday. Yeah, conveniently a week from today, no? I’m pretty sure you’d want to come back to see if I’m full of shit or not. For full blown muscle growth, it typically takes a few weeks to see pounds of muscle mass to be gained. Wait, you think that’s normal? Hell no. A few pounds a year is pretty spectacular. I’m not entirely sure – I will need to smell what he’s giving off next week – but I think I gave him enough for thirty or so pounds. That’s a lot, and he’ll be showing. What’s in this for you? Well, I told you an experiment or two. You’re the second experiment. I can’t figure it out from what your body is dumping off, but your testosterone, hGH, FSH, dihydroxytestosterone, LH, progesterone and androstene levels smell normal. Doubting there are enzyme deficiencies. So, I’d guess you’re packing what? 6 inches? Something about average? Yeah, I figured. Oh, oops. Sorry if I’m being too loud – I do like this Jaegermeister shit. I like these, um, discrepant events? You think one thing is the case, while I’ll show you’re wrong. Yeah, this works for doing other things, too. I’m still not great at the cancer thing – but I’m working on it. If I figure it out, yeah, the medical community is gonna know. What about my body? Oh, I’ll explain that later. Sad story. So, while we’ve been here, I’ve been pouring out as many of those hormones as I could. Hormones, pheromones, eh, they basically do the same thing. I’m giving you some other fun things that only target your dick. This will be a bit more entertaining, because you’ve been sniffing it for the past thirty minutes. It’s stuck on your clothes. You’ll keep absorbing it after I say goodbye. If I’m not full of shit – and I’m not – I’ll see you in a week with a bit more stretching your pants than I can feel right now. Yeah, it’ll take time, just like my muscle man project over there. Oh, I’m good to go home – I live within walking distance. See you next Thursday.
  22. 10 points
    Chapter One is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13112-unit-246/ Chapter Three is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13142-unit-246-chapter-three/ Unit 246 Chapter Four Obediently, and without hesitation, Unit 246 fastened Sergeant Mulligan's still bootclad feet in the power sockets. Sergeant Mulligan could feel the army boots on his feet, and the rubber insulation of the sockets clinging to his calves. The dim light inside the chamber was reflected in the chromed exterior of the sockets, and Mulligan's camo trousers still covered his lower body. His upper body was naked, sweat glistening, since Mulligan perspired, under the influence of anticipation and excitement. Unit 388 endured his own Procedure in silence, since Emotion Access was deactivated, and Unit 388 was still growing more and more into an icon of impossible and intimidating masculinity. Unit 246 continued to fasten Sergeant Mulligan's hands in the two power sockets wide overhead, forcing Mulligan to form an X. It was now impossible for Sergeant Mulligan to leave the contraption, and he was forced to keep the slightly uncomfortable assumed X-position. Unit 246 loomed over him, a monument of protective muscular strength ready to explode into action. "Connect me to mind-program." When Unit 246 applied the electrodes to his shaved temples, Sergeant Mulligan shivered, and he could sense the low-intense murmur of the preparatory mind-programming running in his brain. "It is good, Unit 246. Now proceed to recline in the usual chair for updates, connect yourself to mind-program, and await update." Unit 246 obeyed his order. It felt like a lump in his throat, and Sergeant Mulligan swallowed. A hint of fear lightly brushed his conscious mind, and then faded away. A delightful trepidation awoke in his guts, and expanded into his chest. Then he gave the order: "Medical Artificial Intelligence 5, activate and run update on Unit 246. Activate power socket B." The metallic voice answered, devoid of any personality: "Activating power socket B." His body felt like it was humming, and he became pleasantly warm. "Activate the nanites inside the test subject!" "Sergeant Mulligan. Nanites activating. In test subject. Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1. Let me remind you. Sergeant Mulligan. That enhancement formula is. In prototype stage. Caution is adviced." "Caution acknowledged, but overrided in socket B and update station. Proceed." "Overriding Prototype Caution Protocol in socket B and update station. Proceeding. Safety Protocol activated. Unable to proceed with. Safety Protocol activated." "Deactivate Safety Protocol in socket B and update station." "Safety Protocol. Deactivated. In socket B and update station. By. Sergeant Mulligan. Security clearance. L6." "Proceed." "Proceeding. Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1 now identified. And activated. In test-subject, power sockets B. And at update station. Mind-program running. Concomitantly to. DNA-alteration. And. Nano-facilitated re-building. Hypertrophic power activated. Current now. Twenty millibanners. And increasing." Now, Sergeant Mulligan understood, why some test subjects used to express fear and nausea in the beginning of The Procedure. A temporary feeling of alienation to his own body spread, but, unlike usual test subjects, Sergeant Mulligan knew what to expect, and his eager thirst for strength quickly subdued the fear. He had looked forward to this. Soon, the strength of the most proficient armed unit of the entire galaxy would circulate in his veins. Soon, his average physical frame would turn into an unstoppable steel-hard titan. Soon, he would become like his subordinates, who for so long had been his physical superiors. He trembled again, and felt how his body was trapped in the contraption, unable to escape if anything, against all probability, would go wrong. Warm. Felt warm now. Comfortably warm. And relaxed. He swallowed again. His muscles began to ache in a non-painful, even pleasant way. It was really happening! With Unit 388 growing and transforming at socket A right before him, and Unit 246 growing and transforming at the update station to his right. Growing together with his subordinates. Growing with the lads. Growing with the hulk marines – where-ever did the civilians pick that nickname up? Growing together with his brothers in arms. Becoming. Uh! Uhnnnn! Becoming. Oh, fuck, yes! Becoming more than human! "Nanites fully integrated. And working according preferred prototype enhancement formula. DNA alteration incomplete, but running. Testosterone levels rising. Hypertrophic power current. One hundred millibanners. And increasing. Mind-program. Intensifying." "M.A.I.5! Increase and intensify!" "Increasing. Intensifying." Oh, fuck, yes! It was happening! It was happening, now! His old daydream... becoming true... joining his men! So unbelievably good! He took pride in acting calmly and making well-considered decisions even in extreme situations, but he had never been able to compete with the disimpassioned resolve of the Enhanced Special Marine Servicemen under his command, and he craved that level of serenity and will-force. He could already feel the impact of the mind-control, and he took the feeling in. Drank of it eagerly. Cherished it. Embraced it. But there was something he missed? Under these circumstances, he wouldn't always be able to give Medical Artificial Intelligence 5 the necessary orders to increase and intensify the process, when needed. Better let the Artificial Intelligence handle that. "M.A.I.5! Continue to increase and intensify all parameters and levels continuously, until I give you an express order to terminate this. The order apply to all sockets and update stations." "Sergeant Mulligan. Security clearance. L6. Has given. Permitted order to. Increase and. Intensify. All sockets and update stations. Continuously. Will not terminate, until given permitted order by. Sergeant Mulligan. Security clearance. L6." "Good." "Hypertrophic power current. Twelve hundred millibanners. And increasing. Mind-program. Intensifying." He could hear the breathing of Unit 388 and Unit 246 increase, when The Procedure intensified, and he could watch Unit 388 grow to incomprehensible levels of muscular strength. "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying." He could feel himself becoming taller, and he could feel his army boots disintegrating inside the power sockets. His quads and hamstrings forced themselves out from his camo trousers, ripping them apart. Tatters of camo-patterned fabric laid scattered around his station. With these legs, he could lift mountains. Yes! He was becoming a super-soldier! Yes! Change me! Brutally force me to become more! Make me a hulk-marine for the Empire! Heroic proportions! Monstrous proportions! His abs turned into a set of pétanque-boules hard as steel. It felt unbelievable. His pecs grow into godlike proportions. His shoulders broadened. His traps... Oh God! His traps! The power was so overwhelming now, and the mind-program was like a wave drowning his individual mid, tearing his soul apart in a all-consuming feeling of rage, lust and ultra-masculinity. The individual unit roared in bliss, power and ecstacy. The individual unit grew... "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying. Hypertrophic Power. Two thousand seven hundred millibanner. And increasing." The individual unit grew and it felt how it increased its capacities further. Unit 389 floated in a sea of stimulating power, and it could feel its strength increase. More. More. Without end. It liked how its strength increased more, more and without end, but it noticed, that Emotion Access was enabled, and the intensity of The Procedure could be difficult to handle at these levels. With Emotion Access enabled, it was hard to concentrate enough to call the attention of any superior officer. Hard. To concentrate. So good. So hard! His capacity! Sky rocketing! His brothers. In arms. Growing too. Big. Brothers. Together. Mighty. Tough. Brawny. "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying. Hypertrophic Power. Three thousand three hundred millibanner. And increasing." Unit 389 was dimly aware of the warm, hard, growing presence of his brothers. Growing. But it was not aware of anything else in its surroundings. Empowerment. It was stronger now. Stronger than any man in the Galaxy. Except his two brothers. Unit 246. And Unit 388. Here. Present. Undergoing extreme hypertrophy and hyperplasia together. Undergoing DNA alteration together. Joining his brothers in size and strength. Together. Bigger. Could crush mountains. Couldn't remember any time in the past, when it could not crush mountains. It had no past. Unit 389 felt how it was being born in this very minute. Born to inherit Power, Brawn and Might. With his brothers. To fight in combat with his brothers. Bravely. To defend. To protect. And to be an Enhanced Special Marine Serviceman. Hulk-marine. The civilians said. Yeah! Look at these hulk-marines! Look at this hulk-marine! Seven foot, two inches. And growing. "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying. Hypertrophic Power. Four thousand one hundred millibanner. And increasing." It wanted to crush asteroids. It was a steel monument. A steel monument dedicated to ultra-masculinity. And strength. And willingness to put oneself in danger's way. To protect. To defend. No, a monument of chromium! A monument of titanium! A monument of tungsten! It felt like its bodily presence expanded in all directions, all its muscles engorged to an insane level – feeling like planet-sized muscles – veins spreading all over him. It wasn't sure if it roared. It wasn't sure about anything outside the intense experience of re-programming its mind and re-programming its physique. Reprogramming. In order to defend and protect. The hypertrophic power streaming into its defenceless and unprotected body was beginning to feel hard to bear. Too much. Perhaps better terminate The Procedure. "M.A.I.5! Terminate Procedure at all stations!" "Negative. Test subject identified as Unit 389. Will not terminate, until given permitted order by. Sergeant Mulligan. Security clearance. L6." Unit 389 felt slightly confused. Something wasn't aright, but his confusion was drowned in the feeling of further empowerment. It was almost too much. Almost. But it also felt pleasurable beyond description. "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying. Hypertrophic Power. Eight thousand six hundred millibanner. And increasing. All test subjects now reaching. Height eight feet. And increasing." His brothers began to roar and moan now, despite that their Emotion Access was disabled. He roared, too. And moaned. Sinking deeply into the rapture of growth. Of becoming. "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying. Hypertrophic Power. Ten thousand one hundred millibanner. And increasing." An alarm went off somewhere, but it didn't matter. Something broke. He didn't know what. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was, that the Artificial Intelligence continued to increase and intensify all parameters and levels continuously. He wanted it. He craved it. He eagerly embraced the full effect. "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying. Hypertrophic Power. Twelve thousand three hundred millibanner. And increasing." He didn't know for how long time The Procedure continued. Unit 389 was unable to terminate it, but it didn't matter. There was no such thing as too much. There was only the rapture of muscular empowerment without limits. Without any limits at all. Without any limits of brawn. Without any limits... Unit 389 increased his capacity. For the Empire. And the Emperor. And his brothers in arms. Stronger. Becoming a power-being. Becoming a nuclear explosion. Becoming indomitable. Becoming invincible. Becoming... * * * Chapter Five is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13150-unit-246-chapter-five/
  23. 10 points
    Chapter One is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13112-unit-246/ Chapter Two is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13129-unit-246-chapter-two/ Unit 246 Chapter Three Sergeant Mulligan trembled in anticipation: He wanted to know. He wanted to know how far the lads under his command could grow. He wanted to know what the Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1 would do to a slim and narrow-shouldered civilian, and Unit 246 had brought a test subject for him. To hell with precautions! Why spend valuable time on evaluation of formulas 7.3 and 8.0 when the 8.1 already existed in a prototype state? He wanted to know. The civilian – a protester even – had been given a meal, which he seemed to appreciate. What did the central galactic administration and the multi-corporations think of, when they increased fees and prices on food, and why on earth had they re-routed some of the shipping routes? Even if those mining families had no right to protest in the violent manner they did – we ought to trust the Emperor – they were right on one point: All human beings need food. Well, now the civilian had been given a meal and a nutrition-injection, and Unit 246 had brought him to Lab 5 on Sergeant Mulligans order. Unit 246 had stripped the frightened test subject naked, and fastened the feet and hands of the test subject in the four power sockets. Unlike the updates, managed while the individual unit reclined in a sort of chair, the initial enhancement Procedure demanded another treatment. The chrome-shining power sockets swallowed the test subject's hands and feet entirely, and he stood with his skinny legs broad apart inside the sockets, shaping an X with his arms. Unit 246 was now attaching a hose to the test subject's genitals. The test subject became pale. He looked frightened, and didn't dare to say anything to Sergeant Mulligan or Unit 246. Mulligan was curious: Some of the early recruits had a background in sports, or had good records from earlier military service. The second generation consisted at a ratio of 20% of sons of former Enhanced Special Marine Servicemen, with no former background in the Forces until The Procedure. This test subject was uncharacteristically thin, but the hopes for the 8.1 update aimed at something more extreme than hitherto. Something amazing could be about to happen, opening a wider range of future recruits, unless some unforeseen side effect would kick in. Like the 5.4 upgrade... A short moment of hesitation went by, when Sergeant Mulligan remembered the screams of the deformed monstrosities, that were the result of the discontinued 5.4 upgrade. The scientists must have transcended such obstacles since quite a long time, by now. The scientists still warned against using any formula newer than the 7.2 upgrade, but why take so long time with the prototype formulas? The 7.3 prototype worked well on Unit 246, a few days ago, didn't it? Mulligan wanted to build prototype soldiers. Some day... Some day he wanted to become one of them. He had led these larger-than-life marines in combat so many times, marvelled at their stamina, performance... Self-control... Muscles... Their superior in the command chain, but their inferior when it came to actual capacity. Some day, he wanted to join them. The test subject had been overcome with fright, but now his fear released a string of words: "Don't you see, Bill? It's me! Max! Please, release me from this machine! Don't torture me! I don't know anything about the leaders of the protest. I just joined, because I needed food! I don't know anything! There's no use for torturing me! It's me, Bill! Remember?" "Unit 246, administer the DNA-alering injection to the test subject." "Yes, Sir!" It was done. A muffled cry from the test subject. "Unit 246, administer Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1 to the test subject." "Yes, Sir!" "What was that? Truth serum? But I do not know anything you want to know! Bill?" Unit 246 looked straightforward in a dispassionate and slightly machine-like way. "Unit 246, connect the test subject to mind-program." "Yes, Sir!" The eyes of the test-subject widened. "Leave the chamber, Unit 246!" "Yes, Sir!" Unit 246 towered at the side of Sergeant Mulligan, and watched the chamber. "M.A.I.5! Heat the chamber up!" The Medical Artificial Intelligence answered with its usual metallic voice: "Sergeant Mulligan. Chamber is. Heating up." A familiar humming sound began and increased in volume. "M.A.I.5! Activate the nanites inside the test subject!" "Sergeant Mulligan. Nanites activating. In test subject. Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1. Let me remind you. Sergeant Mulligan. That enhancement formula is. In prototype stage. Caution is adviced." "Caution acknowledged, but overrided. Proceed." "Overriding Prototype Caution Protocol. Proceeding. Safety Protocol activated. Unable to proceed with. Safety Protocol activated." "Deactivate Safety Protocol." "Safety Protocol. Deactivated by. Sergeant Mulligan. Security clearance. L6." "Proceed." "Proceeding. Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1 now identified. And activated. In test-subject, power sockets A. Mind-program running. Concomitantly to. DNA-alteration. And. Nano-facilitated re-building. Hypertrophic power activated. Current now. Twenty millibanners. And increasing." "What's happening to me? What's this? It's..." The faint outlines of the test-subject's muscles were becoming visible. "No! What are you doing? What's happening to my body? Like it's taken over by something not me... Feel sick... Must puke... Sickening feeling... So alien... What the fuck is happening to me?" The metallic voice of M.A.I.5 interrupted: "Nanites fully integrated. And working according preferred prototype enhancement formula. DNA alteration incomplete, but running. Testosterone levels rising." "BILL! You must release me! Something sick is happening! Something..." Unit 246 observed the chamber, without showing any reaction. Sergeant Mulligan observed, fascinated by what he saw. At this early level, it looked fairly similar to what he had observed innumerable times, but the novel aspect of this experiment was, that a typical ectomorph was able to achieve the same level as the more typical mesomorphs used in the past. "Hypertrophic power current. One hundred millibanners. And increasing. Mind-program. Intensifying." The test subject's fear seemed to melt away, but something else was rising. "I said: Release me! You bloody wankers out there, even you, Bill! I trusted you! Now you let me out or I shall... I shall... Yes! O fuck, yes! Bigger now! I will fucking give you a thrashing, with this new strength, if you don't let me out, and let... Fuck! So good! Couldn't have dreamed of..." "Hypertrophic power current. Five hundred millibanners. And increasing. Mind-program. Intensifying. Testosterone increasing. DNA-alteration progress 25%. Nanite activity at 35%. And increasing." "Wait? What are you doing? No! You can't... Can't make me into a hulk-marine! I don't want to become one of them! I'll find you a cure, Bill. I promise! Let me out, so that this... Oh, fuck! So good! So much! You can't change me... Look at these guns! Can't move them now, but anyhow... YES! Look at this bruiser... this brick shithouse... I'll show you when I break free... Let you see some aggro! I'll marmalise you! The power streaming through me... so bloody UNBELIEVABLE!" "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying." "YES! Look at me! The new Uni... No! No, you can't change me! I'm Max, Bill! Remember Max? So big now... Like you, Bill... Becoming like you... So good! So much! So big! So hard! Like a good mari- ... NO! I'm me, I'm not... So fucking massive. I could soon crush this machine if I wanted, but I don't WANT to crush it, since it is so GOOD when it cram me more and more full with this muscle building POWER... No one will mess with me. I'm a loyal... NO! I'M MYSELF! Program me according to your wish, Sarge... NO! So big! Like a good marine! Noooooo!" "All parameters and levels increasing and intensifying." Unit 246 didn't show any reaction to the test subjects' ramblings, but Sergeant Mulligan studied the process with deep interest. It was the best enhancement formula he had witnessed. The test subject was now of about the same size as Unit 246, and The Procedure wasn't even half-way. Enormous pecs protruded from the wide chest, and a monstrous – yet functional – trapezius covered his back, thick lats hanging on each sides. Veins covered large areas of the test subject's body. Instruments allowed them to hear the test subject's heart beat. "Hypertrophic power current. Twelve hundred millibanners. And increasing. Mind-program. Intensifying." "I'M MYSEEEEEEELF! Sir! Unit 388 reporting for duty! Please enhance the abilities and capacities of this individual unit, Sir! This individual unit exist for the purpose of enhancing his capacity and use his capacity to the utmost, for the sake of the Galactic Empire. Let me inform you, Sir, that Emotion Access is still activated, and that... Uh! Uhnn! Let me... UH! ...That The Procedure is quite intense. Sir! So good! More, Sir! Give me more!" "Hypertrophic power current. Two thousand millibanners. And increasing. Mind-program. Intensifying. DNA-alteration progress 97%. Nanite activity at 95%. Testosterone level. Rising." Sergeant Mulligan would soon deactivate Emotion Access, but he wanted to observe the next minute or two. The test subject was now bigger than any former or existing Enhanced Special Marine Serviceman. "Yes, Sir! Bulging all over! Every muscle engorged WITH POWER! Could crush anything! For the Emperor and the Empire! This is my rifle, this is my gun, this is for pleasure and this is for fun! Joining my brothers in arms! Defend! Protect! Yes! Increasing!" "Hypertrophic power current. Two thousand five hundred millibanners. And increasing." "Unit 388, deactivate Emotion Access." "Sir! Yes, Sir! Emotion Access deactivated. Proficiency levels increasing, Sir!" "M.A.I.5! Procure Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1. for two further test subjects!" A white cylinder moved away from the antiseptic wall, and the metallic voice returned: "Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1. for two further test subjects procured." "Pick it up, Unit 246." "Yes, sir." He picked them up. Sergeant Mulligan trembled. He was going to show them. He was going to show his superiors the advisability and usefulness of using Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1, despite all the talk about safety precautions over at Research and Development. "Unit 246, administer the DNA-alering injection to me." "Yes, Sir!" "Unit 246, administer Prototype Enhancement formula 8.1 to me and yourself." "Yes, Sir!" "Unit 246, now enter the chamber, together with me. "Yes, Sir!" Sergeant Mulligan was going to show them. He was going to show them the power of the prototype formula. He was going to show them his power. He was going to become the second prototype. * * * Chapter Four is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13146-unit-246-chapter-four/
  24. 10 points
  25. 10 points
    The giant creature was right in front of my face. I couldn't believe i was face to face with it. I looked at it firmly with my eye wondering how i was going to fit it all in my mouth. As impossible as i thought it was, I knew I could definitely be able to do it. Because after all, this giant piece of meat used to be my meat. I stared up at the man before me. He looked at me with a stern poker face hiding all his emotions behind a pair of sunglasses. I could only stare back at the reflection from his sunglass reflection looking at the pathetic skinny loser that is me right now. All I could make out was my pale skin covering my bony nerd body. Oh how i miss my old body as i glace from side to side looking at his broad muscular shoulders and buldgind pecs. At least I know he was still going to the gym regularly, thats a relief he's not wasting my hard earned body away. As you can probably tell i wasn't always this pathetic. I was once a champion sportsman as well as a top poker player representing my frat brothers. Oh at least i thought i was the top poker player. A week ago I got way too overconfident at a party where i was eyeing this hot chick. She was however attached to a skinny loser whom i challenged to a game of poker. If i win I get to fuck his girlfriend while he watches and i asked him what he wanted if he won. He said he wanted to be me. I thought it was a fucking retarded request. How the hell do you swap bodies with people? If i only knew..... I have to admit though. He was pretty good at the game. But most impressively was his poker face. He was good at hiding his emotions and he would only give his emotions away when he knew he won. Which was way too late for me. I dont know how he did it but after losing the game i was stripped of my entire body. My muscles, my good looks, my height...everything. And i did become him. It was terrible watching him pretending to be me. No one would believe that we swapped bodies and I had to watch him live the frat life i was meant to live. As much as he was great at his "poker face" he was also a fast learner and he literally became me. Walking down the school hallway with my iconic swag and speaking in my cocky tone of voice. I however couldn't get used to my new lower status as a loser nerd at the bottom of the college food chain. But i wasn't about to give up. I did whatever i could to get people to notice and help me. I contacted my frat brothers and tried to convince them, I tried talking to the girls who used to wanna be fucked by me so bad. They don't believe me now. But if i keep telling people someone will be bound to help me out! My luck started to turn around however when he approached me just 15mins ago. I was shocked because he told me he wasn't feeling happy in his new body and really wanted his old life back. Its almost like he was trying to beg me to swap our bodies back. The only way he claimed however we could transfer our essence was for me to suck the "muscles" out of him. From his cock. I had to ingest as much of his cum as i could. As disgusting as it sounded i was not about to let this opportunity slip me by. I want my body back no matter the cost. I couldn't see his eyes through his reflective sunglasses but by the sound of his sad emotions he seem like he really meant it. He dropped his pants and revealed the monster meat i had missed so much. Only this time i was pleasuring it. And oh do i know where all the sweet spots were. I fixated my eyes on the head and reach my tongue out gently making sure i got my saliva all over it. I lathered the head slowly occasionally wiggling my tongue resulting in soft moans from him. Stretching my mouth as large as i could i tried pushing his cock deeper into my mouth. Not even half way through and i already felt a slight urge to gag and i tried making muffled noises hoping to catch his attention. He calmly placed one arm over my head and the other on my already stretched mouth. "You do want your body back right stud boy? You do wanna go back to living your frat life again dont cha??" I tried saying it was too big but it came out as a few muffled noises as he now forcefully used the arm on my head to ruffle my hair before pushing my head deeper in. His other arm moved close to my lips as he squeezed a few fingers into my lips and tried to stretch my mouth larger. His pushes were starting to get faster and i was almost chocking on both his giant cock and my own saliva. He was pretty good at reassuring me with "c'mon stud boy, a little bit of pain for the high life again. Don cha miss the gym and your muscle life??" He was now pushing me deep down . I could feel with every thrust my urge to chock was greater. I closed my eyes and tear alittle from the heavy imapct of him pushing my head. It was seriously a rape. He was raping my face and all i could do was to kneel there powerless to stop him with my muffled noises that could only be directed at his monster cock. His moans got louder, faster and might i say sexier with every thrust and speed increase. With one final roar i could tell the floodgates were open. I braced myself for the eruption of mount vesuvius. His never ending cum envelop my mouth in ropes after ropes of creamy ambrosia filling my mouth up. I tried to let go of his cock and pull out. But he felt my resistance and pushed me further back in. "Now now stud boy you need to take as much of my monster cum for you to go back to what you were. You miss those days where everyone boy or girl were begging you to fuck them right? I was tearing and my mouth was as stretched as it could be. I could only protest with noises as i swallowed everything down. After what seemed like an eternity, he released my head and i fell backwards and collapsed from the entire ordeal with saliva, cum and sweat dripping all over my face. I finally awoke from my deep sleep. I was feeling groggy and my sight was still slightly blurry. As my vision sharpened i look down at myself. I then turned right and left to look at my arms. These skinny bony arms and pale white skin certainly wasn't my body. Hearing a sound from behind me I saw my old body doing a double bicep pose as he looked in the mirror. He noticed me and turned around "Hey youre awake bro. Just testing out my guns. Been missing em. How you doing in your old body?" I stared back at him in shock as i tried to get back on my feet. "Wait but this can't be happening! Im you! And you're me! We haven't swapped back!!" He shook his head slighly and walked towards me before patting my back "Bro the swap is done. You're just having fragments of my memory when you were inside my body. I have fragments of your memory too and i thought i was you" I scratched my head still confused. He was hard to tell as he was still wearing his sunglasses. I couldnt see his eyes but he sounded pretty convincing. I nodded back "Alright then. So is this swap finally permanent or will our memories continue to overlap?" He looked sternly back at me "The blowjob is what makes the swap permanent" He gave of a subtle but noticeable smirk after that comment. Looking back at him curiously i replied "What so funny?" Removing his sunglasses to reveal a completely smug and cocky face. "Nothing. Nothing funny at all.... " Thanks for reading Lemme know what you think of the story and the characters
  26. 10 points
    Chapter one is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13085-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake/ Professor Schnackenburg's mistake: Chapter Two Cody was the biggest bro at campus, and he knew it. He was tired of the weakling sissies at the college gym, who wanted to 'get some muscle tone' but 'not become too big'. Cody very much disagreed: There was no 'too much'. There was no 'big enough'. Never too much! Never big enough! He had joined The Steel Factory gym outside campus, since it had got the heaviest free weights in town. As he had spread the reputation of The Steel Factory, some of the other students had also began to work out there: Jess, Jill, Jack. And Magnussen. And Tim. He pushed the heavy barbell in a focused and disciplined bench press, and he could feel his blood run to his chest, giving him a bloody awesome pump. Some strange greenish phosphorescent light shone in from the windows, and seemed to lit up the night outside the windows. And thunderclaps. Was it thunder? or northern lights? Or something. He returned to his workout schedule. Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. It was rather close to some of the buildings belonging to Arts and Humanities: The archeology students, the literature students, the historians... The only drawback with the location of The Steel Factory was, that the gay street began around the corner, and one gay bar faced the entrance to The Steel Factory. Cody liked to draw attention, but he didn't like to draw attention of gays. He preferred to draw the attention of female students like Jess and Jill. Jess. He became angry again. Jess. She had been his girlfriend for six months. He remembered the scent of her blonde hair, and her enthusiastic screams when he pounded her. Shit. He got a boner inside his training shorts. Well, if anyone commented, they knew he would hit them. He didn't expect anyone to comment. He felt insulted, when he saw Magnussen – the reasonably brawny Danish exchange student – work out with Jess across the room, over at the rowing machines. One day, he would tell Magnussen his mind. One day, he would give Magnussen a real thrashing, and prove who's the Alpha on campus. Jill, the brunette studying pharmacology, was sexy in a shy way, and when she was drunk at a party, she had confessed, that she was turned on by muscle, and she had worshipped him behind a sofa. He wanted to go further with Jill. Or conquer Jess and leave Magnussen in a pathetic little heap of shit, but he had to admit, that Magnussen had a good constitution when he arrived in the beginning of the academic year, and he had to admit, that Magnussen had got some real gains, as the term had went on. Or, he fantasised, he could persuade Jess and Jill into a threesome with him, and leave Magnussen destroyed. Yeah, like a real Alpha. Four boobs on him. Four hands exploring his quads and pecs. Two pussies eager for his Alpha cock. It sounded like a road accident outside the gym. Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. Jack, on the other side, was a true friend. A real bro. Someone to rely on and trust. Fucking awesome stud, even if he hadn't got the same gains as Cody and Magnussen. If he and Jack had been gay, Cody had been willing to give head to Jack, but since they both now were straight as an arrow, that would never happen. Jill had called Jack and Cody 'a bromance' a couple of times, what that was supposed to mean. Everyone seemed to like Jack. Cody watched Jack help Tim over at the old fashioned pec-dec machine. Tiny Tim. Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. Cody couldn't understand why Jack had to drag that little runt to the gym. Tim's presence just delayed their training schedule. Even if he was beginning to get the knack of how the machines worked, Tim hadn't used the free weights much, and he didn't achieve any gains to speak of. Subcutaneous fat was not the problem: Tiny Tim's abs were already visible when Jack brought him to the gym the first time, but it seemed like the shy kid couldn't pack on any brawn. Fuck! The little shrimp was, what was it, 20? But he looked like a scrawny 16 year old. Tiny Tim was dragging Jack and Cody down at the gym, but Cody hadn't been able to persuade Jack to leave Tim at the dorm. Fuck the little bugger. Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. Jack went to fetch a glass of water, and left tiny Tim in the pec-dec machine close to Cody. He could hear commotion and kerfuffle downstairs and in the next room. A weird sound like a high-voltage electric current. It almost sounded like the women downstairs came. And men with deep voices having fun. Weird. Ought he to check out what was happening? The attention of everyone else turned to the entrance. Cody had a schedule to follow: Bench press. Barbell. Heavy. Pump. Gains. He returned the barbell to the rack. In the doorway into this room stood a man... a being... ...who would normally have seemed displaced, since he looked like something out of a sword-and-sorcery film. Normally, a muscular dude wearing a leather harness, a leather jockstrap, furs and boots would look camp and cheesy. Normally. The towering being that gazed at the gym members in the room was beyond normality and beyond everyday life: It exuded power – unlimited physical and supernatural power, and it knew it, as it watched the now shocked gym members. The short hair on its head was a sort of golden blond. Its steel-hard muscle mass bulged in all directions, arrogantly exposing its naked, sun-tanned flesh. It was surrounded by an overwhelming nimbus of martial virtue, masculinity beyond all limitations and an expectation to be obeyed by everyone. Its eyes were ice blue and commanding. Cody's mind began a silent insane ramble: YES! THAT was what he would like to achieve. He had aimed at the impossible: Though he was impressed by bodybuilders from the past, like Schwarzenegger who made all these cool old action films with bad special effects, and though he was impressed by modern mass monsters like Jay Cutler, Justin Compton and Dallas McCarver, he dreamed about going far beyond the results of these men, but he had never been able to visualise his ideal goals in any clear way. Now, the man... the Being... which stood in the doorway, looked like the embodiment of his innermost yearnings and most secret imagination. Cody shivered. Slowly, rational thought crawled through the throbbing, feverish and aroused revelry, which was his inner monologue: What was this man, this Being, this man-god doing at the gym? What was it doing here? How was this in any sense possible? Naked, sun-tanned flesh. Masculinity beyond all limitations. Unlimited physical and supernatural power. Cody moaned. He could hear Jack letting out a yelp. Even tiny Tim moaned. The Being did a side-chest. The eyes of all present persons widened. The Being faced Jess and Jill. It made a suggestive thrust of its hips, and the sound similar to high-voltage electricity, that Cody had heard earlier, was repeated. Two currents of unknown and unholy energies emitted from the Being's crotch, zapped Jill and Jess between their legs, and the girls sank down on their training benches, their eyes rolled up in the skull, their bodies spasmodically twitching, and their mouths emitting feminine noises of excitement. The lights in the ceiling went out, but the dim light from outdoor street lamps fell in from the windows. The room became illuminated by a greenish, sort of, phosphorescent light. Cody felt hurt. He, not the Being, was the one who would take Jess and Jill to formerly unknown heights of pleasure. But at the same he was impressed. He wanted to be like the Being, to take part in its power, to share its essence. The Being waved its hand, and the gym disappeared. It felt like a dream. He was outdoors. It looked like a vast natural reserve, the sea not far away. Brooks running through the landscape with fish. Forests, but not very thick forests. Tall powerful men from the past in armed combat. Men like him, or, rather, men like he wanted to be. Loyal friends, protecting each other in battle. Hunters... Oh fuck! Hunters defeating large predators with large teeth with their bare hands... Alpha's of today looked insignificant to these men from the past. And then the sound of waves. Waves rolling in. A wave of water. A... that sort of... a wall of water, what's it called? A tsunami. He was back at the gym. By the look of their faces, his male friends all had seen the vision. Their female friends were still spasming on the training benches. "Men of the younger world." It was the first time the god-man Being spoke since its arrival to the gym. Its voice suited the way it looked: Deep, very deep, resonant. A battle cry and the promise of male voluptiousness. "Men of the younger world. I have shown you the glory, that once was Anghra-Lemur, but which is now The Sunken Hundred. I have returned over the gulfs of time and space. The powers of Anghra-Lemur are rising, and they will leaven the present world, and throw it away. I am the present embodiment of Kortoth-Gnaah, war god of Anghra-Lemur. I embody the power of thousand thunder gods. I embody the power of thousand sun heroes. Mine is the war frenzy. Mine is the battle cry. I fill brave men with duty. I fill the humble fighters with courage. I wipe the cowards and the evildoers away. I will allow Anghra-Lemur to rise again, because the time is at hand. But I need the raw material for the new men of Anghra-Lemur. I need those willing and those suitable, to become like the warriors of the forgotten time. My strength will permeate the chosen. My power will pervade the willing. My thew will saturate the suitable, and I will bestow upon them the divine powers of the forgotten god-heroes. I am Kortoth-Gnaah. I am willing to bestow all this." It seemed like all of the men were held under a spell, making it impossible to talk, only to think. The Being turned around, watching all of them. Cody's heart raced. YES! To hell with the bloody modern world. Some sort of Conan-world came crashing in. He couldn't comprehend how or why or what, but he knew one thing: He wanted to be in. Kortoth-Gnaah, wargod of Anghra-Lemur, watched Jack a few seconds. Then he stretched out his big hands in the direction of Jack. A green glow intensified around his hands, and then a powerful beam emitted and engulfed Jack in a sea of green, translucent, crackling power. Jack regained his ability to speak. "FUCK! So good! Can't believe it! Fuck! Look at me! My size! Growing! Can't believe it! Pump! Power! Pleasure! These biceps! Fuck! My traps, my back, my...! Oh! So good! Empower me, Master! Imbue me with... Nnnn. Fucking... Can't... Master... Growing..." Jack's rambling words turned into yelps, moans and grunts as he became taller, heavier and more muscled. Jack tensed, flexed, grew, his eyes staring in disbelief, and clothes from The Sunken Hundred materialising around him." Cody's heart was a sledge-hammer. Fuck, yes. Best friend. Jack. Bro. Becoming like a fucking Conan, a fucking He-Man... No! Far, far beyond those imaginary characters! Bro, becoming... Cody couldn't find words. And soon, Cody thought, it was his turn to receive the same blessing. He shivered. His cock throbbed. He was still pumped from the workout, and his antecipation was growing. Soon. Like Jack. Or The Being. Like Korgoth-Gnaah. Big. Big beyond measure. Jack was still growing beside the water vending, when Korgoth-Gnaah turned his attention to other parts of the room. Cody looked in disbelief, when Korgoth-Gnaah faced Magnussen. No? It couldn't be possible? Not the man who stole Jess from him. The green glow around Korgoth-Gnaah's big hands grew again, and a beam struck Magnussen, who began to grow in the same manner as Jack had done. Magnussen reverted to his native language, which sounded as a string of guttural sounds, which probably fitted the situation quite well. Fuck. He hadn't connected Danes and vikings before, but Magnussen was turning into – perhaps not what vikings actually looked like – but into the popular imagination about them. It wasn't fair. Not Magnussen! Not the one who distract Jess. Jess... She was returning to consciousness, and saw what happened to Magnussen. When the transformation reached climax, she ran to Magnussen, put her arms around his waist, pressed herself close to him, and shouted: "Fill me with your little viking babies!" He would have his revenge. Soon, very soon, their Master would turn his attention in Cody's direction, and he would have the same brutal power, the same strength, or even more of it, and he would show Magnussen who's the Alpha among the Master's housecarls. Soon. Korgoth-Gnaah turned around. He looked in the direction of Cody. Cody smirked. He braced himself. He couldn't imagine how it would feel, but he knew it would be better than anything he could imagine, if the behaviour of Jack and Magnussen was anything to go for. Soon. Naked, sun-tanned flesh. Soon. Steel-hard muscle mass bulging in all directions. Soon. He could see the green shimmer building up around Korgoth-Gnaah's big hands again, as he watched Cody. YES! MASTER! ME! SOON! Masculinity beyond all limitations. Soon! The green flames intensifying. Cody closed his eyes and smiled. Soon. Unlimited physical and supernatural power. Soon. Cody swallowed, and braced himself for the incoming impact of the transforming, empowering rush of supernatural force. Soon. Nothing happened, but he could hear the familiar crackling sound of unnameable and unholy power in the air close to his bench. He opened his eyes. NO! Not tiny Tim! Not the shrimp. Not the scrawny hardgainer. Not the little runt. The little runt wasn't a little runt, anymore. A broad-shouldered behemoth bellowed in the pec-dec machine with his legs broad apart. Things didn't go as Cody had expected, and he fell into dark despair: An icy cold awareness arose that he wasn't one of The Master's chosen. Chapter Three is here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13105-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake-chapter-three/
  27. 10 points
    Of course I was waiting for you. Sorry – I can’t stick around too long tonight. I have to work some magic with some others – well, yeah, I know it’s not magic, but whatever. You know what I’m trying to say. Yeah it’s been fucking hot. The AC broke in this place last night and the bartender is trying to get it fixed. But I see the heat has prompted the move to basketball shorts? Ah, I see – look at you swagging and going commando. I see your treatments have been producing some results you like? I bet you still get hard every time you bump into anything or think about someone noticing your thickening manhood, huh? Let’s look at you, big boy. God – fucking – damn, look at you. Your monster is really coming along, isn’t it? You look at least five or six inches soft by now. Are you tender? That’s a lot of growth in these two weeks. Let me outline the head…aaaaand, there you go. Man, you get thick, don’t you? Pulling your shorts legs…man, look at those balls. You got them big, too, didn’t you? They’re probably also pretty damn tender. You can’t wear jeans because your cock and balls would be pushing out the front zipper, huh? Hmm, you orgasm already? Your dick is pulsing…oh, that’s just your pre? Shit. Your dripping on the floor and onto my sandals. Mmm…you smell good, too. You like what I’m giving off? More cock growth juice. The fact that it’s hot in here makes it even better – I’ve been pooling it on my skin and it’s looked like I’m sweating, but I’m not sweating that much. I can wipe it off with a towel and ring it into a shot glass for you? Oh, or you can do that. Jesus H. Christ, your tongue on my neck…fucking fuck. Ugh…not the nipples. Fuck. FUCK. You…tr…lick…all of…god… Feel you…fuck…even bigger…need release…. Please. Please. Let’s try the bathroom. Muscle boy Christian isn’t coming tonight. He said he’d come by tomorrow for a drink. Let’s visit the bathroom. I know it was just cleaned. -- Close the door and lock it. So, last time I told you I know ways to make changes happen really fast. Calm down. Let me explain first. You absorb best through mucus membranes. Your nose, your mouth. Your stomach. But a place that I have found does the best and fastest job is up your ass. The rectum is insanely vascular, which is why hemorrhoids is a real thing. And I get a direct shot at your prostate. Will it take me time? To what? Put the proper hormones into my cum? Please. I’ve been loading it up and abstaining from cumming for two weeks, ever since I started my project with you. Damn, boy, you look like you been practicing. Let’s just see if you’re ready for me… God fucking shit, you’re tight. Uhh…uh…uhh….mmm…your…mmmmmm…asshole…fuuuuuuuuuuuu…so tight…mmmmm… -- You…uhhhhhhhhhhh…ready? God, just…UUHHHHHHHH. FUCKING CHRIST FUCKING GOD FUCK. *breathes heavy* God your ass was so good. No, keep down that way. Let me admire my work. Plus you need to absorb it all, and fuck did I give you a load. I might have produced a monster with that one! My body? I’ll tell you about my body later. Yeah I think you might be fine. You’ll leak a bit but not that much anymore. You want it all to stick around. Like I said, I can’t stick around much tonight. Oh, you are still looking happy. Well, I guess if I gave you a present – fuck, I can’t grab your cock, it’s so goddamn thick – you owe me a milk shake, no? Heehee.
  28. 10 points
    The Muscle Worship Thesaurus: Ugly Beautiful; A bodybuilder who would typically be described as ugly when it comes to his looks, and certainly wouldn't have much luck if he were a regular sized man, but, because he's pumped himself to such extremes to become a bona fide freak with the body of a God, he's now really rather beautiful (not to mention incredibly fucking hot)! Mother Nature was not exactly kind to Darryn Baker. It's fair to say that when it came to looks, Darryn drew the short straw. Possibly the shortest (and ugliest) straw ever drawn. He had a tough old time of it at school. As well as regularly being branded as ugly, he was often christened with cruel nicknames from his classmates; "E.T", "The Elephant Man" and "Sloth from The Goonies" to name just a few. Mrs Baker was constantly telling her downbeat son that looks didn't matter, that God made him in his own image. Yada yada yada. She would even blast Christina Aguilera's "Beautiful" into the Baker household twenty times a day in an attempt to make him feel better. Darryn would listen to that song with his eyes closed wanting to believe that the lyrics were true and that Christina was right; he WAS beautiful (no matter what they said). Darryn thought things might get better once he grew up, but sadly they didn't. He would go out on the piss with his mates at the weekend and watch them all pull birds left right and centre. But no one even wanted to have a quick drunken snog with poor Darryn. He would sit on the sidelines watching his mates do all the things normal young lads were supposed to do, all the time an angry rage burning in the pit of his stomach at the injustice of it all and trying, but usually failing, to believe in Christina's words of wisdom, while one question continuously went round and round in his head; "WHY ME"?! Things finally got too much for Darryn after an incident at a Halloween party. The host opened the door to Darryn, screamed with fright and said, "Bloody hell! That's a scary mask"! "Ummm. Dude, this is my face", came Darryn's reply. Something snapped inside of Darryn at that moment. "Right! I've had enough of THIS!" he said to the host, before turning around and storming back home, but not before the guy behind him said, "Mate! Cool mask"! "ITS MY FACE!", Darryn yelled as he departed the scene. Back at home, a determined Darryn stood in front of his mirror and spoke to his ugly mug reflection. "OK God I get it! You want me to suffer. You want me to work extra hard at everything, deal with a lifetime of injustice and learn the values of personality over looks while all my (much) better looking mates fuck about shagging anyone they want. Well FUCK YOU! I'll show you God! I'll show the lotta ya"! And thats exactly what Darryn Baker did! He signed up to his local hardcore, hellhole gym, shoved a truck load of roids up his bottom, pumped himself up to extreme proportions and transformed his once average sized body into a mountainous mass of obscene, freakish muscle, all in the name of strutting and stomping around a bodybuilding stage in a pair of shiny posers, and flexing and squeezing his mighty mass while pulling all manner of outrageously cocky, in yer face, tude packed expressions, while being the object of awe, envy, lust and admiration the world over. And what became of Darryn's school bullies, all of his better looking mates and the host of the party on that fateful night? Well, they now regularly look at pictures of Darryn on the Internet in awe, admiration, envy and lust; wondering what it would be like to touch, squeeze, feel, fondle and worship his muscles, and blasting massive loads into their undies while doing so (even though most of them aren't even gay)! And Darryn?? Well, as well as blowing his own loads over his reflection in the mirror, he still gets called ugly, but it's usually followed by another word, in a phrase often coined my muscle fans to describe insanely hot muscle monsters who aren't exactly oil paintings; "ugly beautiful". A phrase which never fails to make Darryn smile, while usually thinking one thing; "maybe Christina was right after all".
  29. 10 points
    Previous Parts Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 8.5 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | (Illustrations always make things more fun!) I was flat on the floor with an extra 165 lbs of cum in my belly helping me to be a paperweight, effectively doubling my scale weight. Jeff was next to me with an extra 300 lbs of cum in his belly transforming him into a human anvil, weighing in at 525 lbs. We were both naked. I heard a gurgle next to me and then…. BRRRRRPP! Jeff let out a burp in his sleep. I knew what was coming next! Thanks to its increased length and width, I could see my cock spring to attention even past the gigantic belly attached to my body. BRURRRUUP! Jeff twitched a little bit. He wouldn’t want to miss this! I shook him awake, the fatty parts of his body jiggling, the muscular parts stubbornly not moving. “Dude! Dude, wake up! Come on, man, you’re going to miss it!” Jeff groggily woke up. BURRURURPP. “Wha...what? Huh?” BRRUUUUP BRP The change was taking place rapidly. VERY rapidly. Jeff’s body had begun to deflate, like the tide moving out but revealing the rocks and pieces left as water rippled away from it. Only in Jeff’s case, all the cum he had inside him was being...absorbed (for lack of a better term) into his muscles, fading away and leaving granite walls of powerful human straitions, thick webs of veins, and a nearly nonexistent skin covering that was stretched to the limits of human possibilities. It looked like the skin would snap if he moved, and like any of the veins would break like a burst pipe in subfreezing temperatures. Jeff glared upward, his head thrown backward, not able to look at his body changing. His eyes were bulging again, and tears were coming out by force. His mouth gaped open as if screaming, but no sound was coming out. As Jeff’s musculature drank my seed in, his body pulsed, almost as if each awesomely hot and horny muscle were breathing individually. With each breath it took, it rested back in a larger state. Suddenly, Jeff buckled on the floor, and his abdomen lurched forward. His head turned a dangerous shade of purple, and I really thought Jeff was going to die right there. In fact, his whole body began to turn purple, like it was holding its breath. And then, as crudely as you think, Jeff farted, and the windows in the room broke from the force. I thought I would pass out from the visible scent that came out of his gluteus very very maximus. But along with the gaseous emission came another type of explosion. As large as Jeff’s body had gotten drinking in the semen he absorbed, that final blast added even more size to what he had already developed in the past few seconds. Jeff was my muscle monster. Slowly he stood up, unsure of his new statuesque body, his back to me. I noticed that while he had grown overall in muscular size, he hadn’t increased his height at all. His waist was incredibly tiny compared to his lats. He slowly turned around raised his arm up to flex. And then I realized that I was suddenly cumming on the floor like a waterhose, no warning or control over it whatsoever. I was unable to reach over my belly to do anything with it at all. My arms were just too short. “Bryce, dude…” Jeff sighed. “You’ve messed up the carpet, now I’ve gotta clean it.” Then he laughed. “Actually, since you live here too, you’re going to clean it.” I laughed too, and then I felt some hands under me. Slowly I was rising up off the floor. And then I was lowered. And then I rose again. And was lowered again. Jeff was deadlifting me. “Man, I told you I didn’t want to be any bigger. And now…” I glared up at him as he hoisted me up and down with his back and legs. “No, no no. Who’s the dude who kept jacking around with my cock, leaving me with this thing?” I still couldn’t reach, but I pointed at what had to be at least 13 inches soft. “What am I supposed to do with that, huh?” He set me down, and started rubbing my bulbous stomach. “I’m sure we’ll think of something,” he said as he tickled the bottom of my belly by lightly scratching it, running his hands through my stomach hair, which was a little thicker now. Then he hoisted me up using his new strength and held me a little over his shoulder. He supported me with his left arm and patted me with his right. The dude is trying to burp me! BRAAAARRRRP And it worked. BURRUUUPP I felt a familiar tingle and vibration in me, as if my whole body was quaking and breathing. The belly rapidly melted off, reverting to my 160 pound self...or rather, previous self, because every muscle was breathing and enlarging a little bit at a time. My abs were getting crowded as two fully formed packs settled in and pushed their way through, accompanied by two more baby ablets, not quite fully formed but definitely visible. My pecs heaved up and out, up and out, over and over as the pushed my inflated shoulders outward and back. At the same time, my billowing lats pushed my arms upward, fighting with me vein crackled biceps for the space next to my torso. My triceps filled in like thick solid water balloons, and my arms soon resembled giant condoms filled with walnuts. My waist...I’m pretty sure it shrunk. Or at least the width of my chest and lats made it look a lot tinier, a male hourglass. My legs swelled up, looking like sides of beef hanging in a meat locker. My butt grew outward and bubble upward a bit, helping to support my disproportionate torso. I found my chest pushing further forward as my shoulder blades were involuntarily thrust backward. My arms hung to my sides at not quite 45 degree angles. My calves looked like bowling balls had been shoved under my skin. Veins snaked and coiled all over my body, larger than before. If not for the rigid granite like surface quality of my never ending striations, I’d look like brittle cracked glass. But a lot of blood was needed to keep these beasts attached to my frame well fed. I looked in the mirror and flexed my bicep. Oh. My. Lord. It had to be at least 16 inches. This was mind blowing to the guy who had not quite 9 inch biceps a few weeks ago. My guns had almost doubled in size. FLITTSPATTT Something hit the mirror. I turned around and found Jeff with one of his hands around his cock, cum still dripping over it. His forearm looked like an engorged ham. “Sorry, Bryce,” Jeff grinned. “Just couldn’t help myself. You. Are. So. Hot.” He laughed. And when he did more cracks and striations formed on his chest, like fingers reaching to desperately keep hold of the frame. He had become an incredibly thick monster. His skin was practically transparent, and every muscle looked flexed, even when relaxed. “You’re not too bad yourself, Jeff,” I said, reaching out to flick his nipples. Jeff reached out to flick mine back. “So...are you still upset that you’ve gotten larger?” I asked him. “Ah….we’ll see. It’ll take getting used to, I’ve never been this larger, or really wanted to be.” “Well, let’s see how heavy we are now.” We went to the bathroom and took turns on the scale. I settled at 205. And still 5-foot-7. The overly ridiculous amount of cum I had ingested had pushed me further than before. I couldn’t imagine what Jeff could be. He took in quite a bit more than I did, and already had huge frame to work from. I slapped his naked butt as he stepped on, immediately regretting it as I might as well have slapped a steel girder. It kept going up...255….275….295….310… Jeff looked at me with a sideways glance and a smirk. 315….325….335….350. And at that it stopped. “Well, instead of losing 25 I’ve managed to gain over 135. Dude, Bryce, that’s like adding one of the old you onto me.” “I’m sorry, I wasn’t listening, Jeff. I was admiring this bicep of mine that I’m flexing. It tastes really good,” I said, licking my own arm. “And hey, that’s not all I can do. Watch how limber I am.” I rubbed my cock to get it erect, and then bent forward a bit. My cock swelled to a fully erect 20 inches, and I kissed it. I. Kissed. My. Own. Cock. That was unbelieveable. “What’s that, Bryce? I couldn’t see it over this mound of manliness attached to my arm,” Jeff said as he flexed his mountainous bicep. It had to be at least 22 inches. “Hey, c’mere, Bryce,” Jeff said as he unflexed. “Wrap your hands around my bicep.” I did as told, and when Jeff flexed his bicep I was lifted up and down. “Jeff, that’s some serious heat you’re packing in those guns.” Jeff yawned. “Yeah, but….we’ve been up all night. And I am worn out. Besides,” he pointed downward at his crotch, “I’m pretty sore again.” And as before, I noted that his entire groin was one purple, almost black hickey from the force of my blow. “I think it’s a great day to sleep in, maybe sleep the whole day away. If we can both fit in the bed together now!”
  30. 10 points
    Pat 1: The Golden Ticket Crawling through the thick brush, Thoven’s thick masculine body wasn’t designed for stealth… The snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves gives away his position to the previously unaware orc camp. Thoven, realizing his cover was blown, stands to his full 6’4” height. His 240lb frame of solid muscle wrapped in tight fitting leather armor and a marvelous chrome breastplate barely big enough to cover his pecs creates quite an imposing figure. The orcs pause at this, despite outnumbering the Elven Paladin 10 to 1. That pause was enough for Thoven to take a long lunging step forward at the group of orcs. He raises his massive sword preparing for a long sweeping strike and… “…It’s a critical failure.” I hesitantly say as my d20 rolls to a stop on a one, the worst possible roll. I wince as a devilish smile creeps up on the DM’s face. Derek is known in our group for having the most severe ideas when it comes to critical failures. We’ve already lost 2 of our characters to his sadism at the beginning of our play through. Hopefully now at level 13, Thoven can withstand what Derek has thought up. Hopefully… With a strike that could have decapitated half the orcs in front of him, Thoven swings wide but loses the footing for his lunge. Grazing cleanly over the heads of the orcs, giving them haircuts in the process, Thoven’s sword lands in the trunk of a large tree to the left. Although, “land” might not be the right word as it doesn’t come to a stop until it’s cut clean through the tree trunk. With an earthen creak the massive tree comes falling down towards Thoven, the sound of it’s slow decent to ground sends chills down Thoven’s spine. So much so he stands there shell shocked until the tree slams into the ground, his massive body but a bug underneath. Dealing him… 58 points of damage. “Come on dude… at least let him roll to dodge if you’re going to deal 58 points of damage for a single failed roll…” pipes in Travis, his low quite voice coming to my defense as I myself am shell shocked after coming within 10 points of a knockout. His rather small frame dwarfed by Derek’s own hulking one. “It’s not like this is an important encounter to the campaign… We already beat your boss for the day.” Snickering, Derek just shrugs his overly grown shoulders, “A one is a one. If I didn’t do this, they wouldn’t be CRITICAL FAILURES anymore. And a near death AFTER the boss? THAT’S GOTTA throw you for a loop! It’s called suspense for a reason.” Ignoring his inaccurate use of the word suspense, I motion for Travis to back down. I’ll just graciously take the damage as none of us really want to deal with Derek’s bull headedness this late into the day. It’s something we have just come to accept as part of our after school sessions anyways. Not that we could kick him out of our group if we wanted to… This D&D campaign is actually put on by our school’s Gay-Straight Alliance as one of our guidance counselor’s (oh so often NOT) “Great Ideas”. So unfortunately we’re not some random group of friends who can start another campaign behind The Annoying One’s back. Our Guidance Counselor felt roleplaying cooperatively would be a great way for members to immerse themselves in the thought processes of others. A novel idea albeit, but the one who needs that sort of empathy training the most ended up as Dungeon Master and is always focused on the “me” rather than the “we”. A way of thinking that might just be reflex for him as the school’s football team captain and self-proclaimed number one go-getter (AKA he’s loved by the teachers too, something none of us at the bottom of the food chain can quite figure out...). “WHAT DO YOU MEAN by spell shaping?” booms Derek, bringing me back to reality just in time to see Jastivan (Travis) save Thoven’s ass from a small hoard of orcs with a massive fireball. A small grin on Travis’ face as Derek can do nothing about the nat20 sitting neatly on our game mat. “Looks like we’re both pretty lucky, in our own ways.” I laugh, giving Travis a high five which he meekly returns. With the last of our battles out of the way, Derek grumpily leads our group back to town so we can cash in our treasures, rest and level up before our next session. With all his chances to kill us out of the way, what is usually a pretty lively part of the game turns into just a conversation in the meta game as Derek leaves his character voices behind and basically just deals with our characters as himself. Packing up our stuff for the day, me and Travis skedaddle before Derek hones in on us to relieve some of his pent up frustration. We laugh together about today’s victory over the boss (AKA just Derek trying to seriously kill us with some random monster from the monster manual) on our way to our local board game store “High Adventure”. They have a massive selection and everyone there is super knowledgeable. This one guy who works there named Jordan has been playing D&D since the game first came out! We always go to him for the best news on what adventures to try and what we really need in order to play. “Oh guys! Over here!” we hear Jordan as we walk into High Adventure, whispering at us from the D&D shelves as he frantically moves books around. “I was just ‘restocking the shelves’ before you get here. Didn’t want anyone but you guys to get their hands on this.” he says secretively, pulling out a very thin gold trimmed D&D book. “I was shocked when I saw this on the shelves this morning... I got a copy a long time ago, and it’s probably the best thing that ever happened to me.” Both Travis and I look at each other, neither of us knowing what to make of Jordan’s excitement and this apparently great buy. “So uh… What’s with the book Jordan?” I ask, noting by the gleam in his eyes that he was clearly waiting for me to do so. Rather than actually saying anything though, he simply pulls us behind the shelf and hands over the small book. Travis and I thumb through the surprisingly few number of pages, realizing quickly they are all just the same thing; gold inked character sheets on aged paper. Shocked and disbelieving I say, “Really Jordan? You’re this excited about some dumb character sheets with gol…” until Travis slaps his hand over my mouth, both him and Jordan glancing around frantically as if to make sure no one overheard me. “What?!?” I gasp as I pull Travis’ trembling hand from my face. “Is… Is this really?!?!” Whispers Travis, his excitement now on par with Jordan’s as he seems ready to jump up and down, quite literally. They share quite, reaffirming nods with one another, clearly privy to some sort of knowledge they have yet to share. “Guys… At least let me in on what’s so great about these dang charac…” “SSSSHHHHH” they both scream at me in whispers. “OK! Ok, I get it… These are The Shit. Excuse me for being a bit curious…” I bite back sarcastically, confused as to why they don’t just tell me what’s up with these damn old, gold character sheets! With a seriousness I don’t think I have ever seen in him, Travis breaks me from my pouting and asks “Do you trust me?” Taken aback by his serious tone, I just nod. “These… There is no way I can explain the details, but if these are real… You’ve just got to trust me here. This purchase could change our lives. We’ve always been the kids at the back of class playing our little imaginary games, ever since we were little. But this! This will make all that time worth it.” Stunned to silence, I try and wrap my mind around what the implication is here, but these guys are being way to vague. If Travis is this set on it though... “Well then,” I say decidedly to Jordan. “I guess you’ve got yourself a sale.” Leaving the store and Jordan behind, our new purchase in hand, Travis and I head towards my place since it is only a few blocks from High Adventure. Travis and I don’t talk along the way like we usually would, Travis being too busy shaking with excitement, while I for the life of me couldn’t understand what was causing that. There’s no way that some fancy character sheets would cause Travis to freak out like this. So then what is it? Travis’ excitement feels infectious as I conjure my wildest imaginations to play with the idea, which gets me nowhere fast. I just get some dumb ideas like these being part of some super high-tech new game system for D&D, or that the gold leaf is real gold? Neither of which sound convincing enough to explain Travis’ current state. After a few minutes of walking in silence with our minds abuzz, finally we get to my house and we run up to my room. With no more walking to distract from the topic at hand, I open my mouth to speak. Before I get the chance to vocalize my thousand questions, Travis pipes up, “Don’t bother Caleb. I know it’s strange, but I really won’t be able to explain anything to you until we make a character using these sheets.” I try to argue, but not knowing anything here I just sit down on my bed defeated. I at least manage to give Travis an annoyed stare, my patience for all this vague talk about to evaporate. Picking up on this and knowing my more than inquisitive nature, Travis grabs the book. Removing a character sheet with surgical delicacy, he hands it to me and takes a deep breath. “Ok now, the fastest way to explain is to just do.” He says, his voice trembling, “Close your eyes and imagine your dream D&D character. What do they look like; are they muscular or skinny, gruff or graceful? Are they tall and heavy, or small and light? What are they wearing; a knight’s full garb, a wizard’s robes, or nothing at all? Get as much detail as your imagination can come up with.” I sit for a minute taking in his words, trying with all my might to decide on what I’d want my dream character to be. “Well?” pipes up Travis, a crazy grin on his face. “What did you imagine?” Before I managed to put it into words he’s looking over my shoulders, pushing down with his full weight in order to see. “This… This is just Thoven’s character sheet.” “Well it’s pretty hard to come up with something on the… Wait? What do you mean by that? How did you know I pictured Thoven?” Shocked, I tentatively look down at what really is just Thoven’s character sheet, exactly the same as the one in my backpack but written in gold. Weirdly enough, written in my hand writing too. “Dude, what the hell is this? I didn’t write this!” Freaked out, my voice comes out in a higher octave than it has in years. I drop the sheet to the ground and look at Travis, “Explain. Now!” Picking up the sheet, Travis returns it to me with a sigh as he says, “I guess that reaction is to be expected… This really isn’t something you could expect.” Glad to be reaffirmed that I am indeed not crazy, but terrified further by the route this conversation is taking, I take a deep breath. Seeing me calm down, if only a little, Travis continues slowly, “So, I know this isn’t what you want to hear… but these sheets really aren’t something I can totally explain either. Up until just now, they were just some wild rumour I had read on some small D&D forum. It’s hard to believe that they might be real…” Taking a few breaths, Travis spends a few moments to reorganize his thoughts into what better be how he plans to explain this. “I… Actually,” a thought popping into his head, “I’m just gonna bring up that forum post and you can read it yourself.” And with a few quick and practiced motions, he has the forum up on his phone, holding it out for me to see. Reading over the post a few times, I try to wrap my brain around the idea of becoming Thoven… Knowing this is ridiculous, I hand the phone back to Travis, a little upset and confused as to why he’s so dead set on getting me to believe this idea. “Come on Caleb! Where’s your sense of adventure. This is amazing!” Travis’ excitement keeping him ignorant to my lack of enthusiasm. “With these character sheets, we can actually LIVE OUT our D&D campaigns. I have so much stuff I want to try with you.” Blushing, he pauses to catch himself. “Just imagine what we can do. The possibilities are...” “Enough Travis…” The lack of belief in my voice makes it come out tired and impatient. “What are you and Jordan doing this for? I’m not dumb enough to be fooled by some crazy conspiracy theory and some trick character sheet.” “But the sheet… it knew…” ‘What? It knew what I was thinking? I don’t get why your doing this… Did you use some heat sensitive ink to make Thoven’s character info appear? You think I’d believe all this?” waving the character sheet around and pointing at his phone. “It’s insane. We don’t live in a world where something magical comes along to just make it all better.” “Yeah, but with these we can experience another world.” “Just stop… I don’t get why your pushing this so hard, but I’ve had enough for today.” I hand the character sheet over to Travis and walk him to the door. He slowly follows behind, not wanting to give this up but not knowing how to continue the conversation. “Can you go peddle your magic to someone else? I’m not buying.” I say, opening the door and waving Travis through. Just before he crosses the threshold of my front door, Travis stomps down and turns to me with what looks like a teary eyed determination. “Fine, I get how crazy it sounds. Just… next time we have our D&D session at school bring this character sheet with you. Then you’ll see.” He say as he shoves the character sheet into my arms once again. Before I get to protest he turns around and makes a very grandiose un-Travis like exit.
  31. 10 points
    Chapter Three As the years went by, Mikey started to crave more than morphing into the bodybuilder version of himself in his bedroom for his own enjoyment. He knew he couldn’t compete in a bodybuilding show, so he started fantasising about what it would be like to simply go out in public in his muscle monster form, and engage the reactions of those around him. He knew, however, that he would not be able to do this in his home town. Someone would recognise him, and then his secret would be out. Mikey would have to go somewhere where no one knew who he was. So, at the age of twenty-two, after many years of fantasising about stepping out in public while his superpower was in action, Mikey finally booked a hotel room, packed a night bag and set off on the train to London. As none of his clothes would fit him when he was in his muscle monster incarnation, Mikey had bought some clothes from a specialist store for large men. They’d looked absolutely huge in the shop. Mikey could probably have fit three of his regular selves inside of them. And yet, when he morphed into a bodybuilder, the clothes were almost tight on him. He changed into the clothes in his hotel room; baggy black track pants, a black hoodie and a tightly fitted white vest. They were the first clothes Mikey had ever worn when he was using his superpower, besides his boxer shorts. Even fully clothed, Mikey couldn’t help thinking how outrageously hot he looked. Especially in his tight, white cotton vest, which the upper half of his humongous sized pecs spilled out over the top of. He couldn’t comprehend how anyone would not want to have a cheeky squeeze of his enormous tits in that vest. Mikey wished he had the courage to go out in public wearing just his vest. This felt like too big of a step for his first ever outing though, so he had no choice but to cover himself up with his black hoodie, zipped right up to his chin to hide the flesh of the top of his pecs from view; though he still looked utterly monstrous and as wide as a brick shithouse covered up. He decided to throw his rucksack over his shoulder to complete his outfit. He figured that way people might assume that he was heading for whatever hardcore, hellhole gym he frequented, rather than just showing off his monstrous size to the world. As he reached for the handle of his hotel room door, his heart started pounding in his chest. “You can do this Mikey. You’re just a regular guy going to the gym”, he told himself. “Just a regular, 300 lbs, monstrously muscular guy. FUCK! I can do this. I can bloody do this”. And with that, Mikey threw the door open, and waddled his mass of muscle down the hotel room corridor, practically filling the whole width of it, and prepared to unleash the bodybuilder version of himself to the public. The rush of confidence Mikey felt as he walked down the street as an excessively sized muscle bull was like no other he’d ever felt. He loved how his huge quads kept rubbing together, and how far away his arms felt from his torso. He loved how much bigger he was than everyone else that passed him on the street. And he absolutely loved the fact that not single person could walk by without giving him a prolonged look. He saw so many different glimpses of emotions in the faces of the people he passed. Shock, awe, amazement, fear, confusion, envy, and even, in some people (mostly men around the Soho area) lust. He loved the fact that the sight of his enormous, freak show frame caused such an extreme variation of reactions from all of the ordinary sized passersby innocently going about their days. He knew that some of them wanted to run the other way and scream, that some of them wanted to be as huge and muscular as he was, that some of them just wanted to stop and gawp and stare freely at the muscle freak before them, and he knew that a couple of them would have done anything to touch him. To feel his flexed biceps, grab a hold of his huge lats, to play with his hoodie stretching muscle tits, and to plough their dicks into his abnormally huge ass until they shot a wad of spunk inside a real life 300 lbs muscle bull as he cranked out a monstrous most muscular and growled in the way only a power packed, Alpha male muscle bull can. Unfortunately when deciding what to wear to show off his power enabled physique to the general public for the first time, Mikey did not factor in how ridiculously hot it would be on the chosen day of his outing. Initially Mikey felt fine in his zipped up hoodie, but as the temperature rose, he started to become extremely hot. Carrying 300 lbs of almost solid, ripped muscle and walking around central London didn’t exactly help the fact that Mikey was feeling uncomfortably warm. He had no choice but to take off his hoodie. The minute Mikey did so, the attention he received almost doubled. With his enormous and frighteningly muscular arms, his huge, boulder delts, and the top of his thick, patio slab pecs now on full display, the number of stares increased and became a lot less subtle. Mikey felt like all eyes were on him. Some people nudged and whispered to their friends walking beside them. Others opened their mouths in shock and horror as he walked by. One woman was so taken aback at the sight of him that she even stood still on the spot, her mouth ajar as she took in the image of the muscle monster before her. He heard people talking about him in excited voices. “He sure has been pumping the iron. Woooo!”, he heard one particularly loud mouthed woman say. “Oh my Gaaaawd! He’s a HUGE!”, he heard an American lady exclaim. “There’s a big lad over there. BLOODY NORA!”, he heard some bloke with a strong Cockney accent cry. Children seemed to be particularly vocal too. “Look mummy. THAT MAN!”, and, “Is that the man who plays The Incredible Hulk dad?”, were amongst the more memorable ones. The public reaction made Mikey feel like a freak. He loved every single moment that his body got attention, and it bought him a small glimpse of what it might feel like for those huge, shredded muscle freaks at the Mr Olympia to walk amongst the audience of regular sized non-muscle bulls in the final posedown of the show. As he imagined himself doing just that, he felt a lurch in the pit of his stomach. Mikey wanted it more than ever. In fact, he’d never wanted anything so badly in his life. When he accidentally stumbled upon a bodybuilding and fitness store called “Muscle World” on his first outing as a muscle freak that very day in London, he could never have known that it would lead him to obtaining exactly what he desired. Mikey stood outside of the shop, looking up in awe at the word “MUSCLE” in bold blue lettering. Tubs of various protein powder and muscle supplements sat in the shop window. It was the closest he’d ever been to the world of extreme bodybuilding. An overwhelming urge to walk into the shop took over Mikey's body. It was almost like he was being beckoned inside. But something was stopping him. A voice in his head which was telling him that to go inside this shop would be a mistake. A voice that reminded him that, despite looking like a future Mr Olympia champion, he didn’t belong to this world. But something else was happening to Mikey too. A feeling in the pit of stomach was emerging, and was urging him to walk towards the shop. And then another voice came through in his head. Louder, calmer and clearer. DO IT MIKEY. DO IT DO IT DO IT. Whether this was intuition at play, Mikey wasn’t sure, but someone had once told him that he should always follow his gut instinct. Even if what that gut instinct was telling him didn’t seem like the sensible, logical thing to do. And so, with his specially sized bodybuilding hoodie wrapped around his waist, and his enormous muscle tits straining out of his vest, Mikey left the gawps and stares from his freaked out admirers on the street, and walked into the shop.
  32. 9 points
    Hello, guys! This is my first attempt to write a muscle growth story. This is the first part and I'll post the following chapters as sson as I'm done with them. Hope you'ill enjoy it. ___________________________________ Dawn of Desire S. H. Ergule I believe it has been cliché or an impulse for people to say ‘blessed’ to describe a typical Sunday, but it was only now that I fully understood its meaning, in that, the lack of life and traffic jams sit upon the city, even if for one magical day. I was in a taxi that shot straight through ghost boulevards and highways. I counted myself lucky that I was able to hail a cab at the early hours in the morning when neither the thought of business nor breakfast affects the citizens’ minds. The driver was quiet. I looked at the streets, hoping for some drive-through coffee to keep my energies up. Earlier, I was typing academic papers and I would have continued doing so – and perhaps sleep for an hour or two – had not Dean called me at four in the morning. “You gotta help me, bro. This is urgent.” “Okay, bro. Be there in an hour. Need to bring something?” “Nah, man. Just be prepared.” “Uhm … sure.” He said it was an emergency that needed fixing, yet he never made it clear. Still, Dean is not the person who often asks help for mundane things or who pranks his friends. Even if he does, I couldn’t imagine him coming up with something as elaborate as requiring me to rush to a nearby city. All in all, he seems to be able to do things on his own, because of which, I judged his concern a serious one. I was able to finish only three-fourths of my paper. It was not due until tomorrow, however, and I actually had enough hours to finish it. But I dread hot noons and a writer’s block so I usually save the energy up for more low-keyed times. During such, I frequent libraries and cafés in the hope I can collect an inspiration for my master’s thesis or my sideline novel. I consider myself as a man of letters – I’m a book addict that goes helpless and mad when denied a day to read – and this realization helped me to reconsider returning to the university after graduating last year. That was when I met Dean, an undergrad in one of Professor Mendez’s classes. I sat beside him near the window. He was taking down notes, head either glued to his tablet or nodding at the professor’s words. I already knew some people in the class – my classmates from a previous course – and it has been a routine of ours to head straight to some place after the lectures. I’m not that close to them but I needed company. Everybody does. So when the group decided to occupy a café over a club, I invited Dean who was about to head straight home. I believe I wanted him to open himself up to people back then – my sort of messianic mission – but now I am more convinced that I needed a listener. Many classes later, I opened up to him and it felt better afterwards. Since then, we were hanging out on our own. I set my laptop down and let my eyes rest from the screen light. I took a shower. I took my time. The guy can wait. I dried myself up with a thin white towel which I let hang on my shoulder. When the rest of the world is asleep, I am free to revel in the silences of the night. I walked around my apartment naked. I washed the plates I’ve used last evening before I set out writing. I may be alone but I am king and the occasional sounds of passing cars are my subjects. I walked towards my bed where I was to pick up fresh clothes but not before I passed by the full-length mirror. There was someone else on the other side. Perhaps, the days have kept me busy and anxious enough to make me forget the work of art before me. Under vast shoulders hanged firm and bouldered pecs which sought to ram me against the wall; at the same time, they softly graced through divine cobblestones in the figure’s abdomen. His hands moved through the ridges, checking them one by one as if meant as a firm dessert. He bent his torso, like how a new warrior checks out his armor, and showed me how his muscles play and move until they culminate down to his long and thick cock – the very navel of his manhood about to charge against its enemies. It rests upon full yet precious balls – a treasure deemed worthy of support by the industry of ironclad quads and engined calves, the harsh curves of which led my eye back to the creative eruptions of the figure’s torso and to the falling intricacies of his arms where web-veins snaked through the fleshy mounds and crevices. When did I get to be posses such beauty? such power and grace? When did a visage as mine, a soul as mine, get to deserve a herculean body? When did my body start to haunt me with its incapacity to fit itself into the mirror frame? I looked at myself again and never did I feel more scared and threatened. Yet I was a bit wet from my bath and my skin glistened which made me like a ripe fruit begging to be eaten at once. At that moment, I wanted to devour myself, swallow myself whole, and to enter myself so I can be myself at last. I posed and flexed and my dick was awakened. I explored my body as geographers back then would when the world was yet to be known. Over there were new deserts. Over here were mountain ranges. I leaped through the smoothened hills; I sank through the deepest caves. I took in the scent of fragrant flowers and of the inebriating sweat of exotic beasts. I grabbed and struggled with the cobra until I squeezed the venom out of itself. At that moment, I was drenched and exhausted. There might have been someone who saw me through the glass window, but I didn’t care. I went out of the cab. Streaks of light began to appear and paint themselves on the building walls, yet the morning is still cool. There was now a slight activity building up in the place. Unlike my city a few miles from here, the surrounding area was mainly designed to contain major businesses and nationwide corporate operations. I spotted Dean’s place – a high-rise condo that face a lush park. I sighed and walked towards it carrying a box of pizza I bought on the way. Since it was a Sunday, we might as well have a bit of gastronomic fun. “Good morning! Name’s Kevin. Does Dean live here? Dean Lim? I believe he’s expecting me,” I asked the receptionist who, despite the early hours, managed to wear a smile. “Kevin…” “Cruz.” “Yes, Mr. Cruz. He told us you’ll be coming. He’s on room 18G,” she widened her smile as she stole a glance at my bulky chest. I thanked her afterwards. I found the lift at the other end of the lobby. There was no one else in the area save for myself and the receptionist. There might have been a guy in the sofa reading the papers, but my mind will be a little clearer as soon as Dean and I eat the pizza. At the same time I pressed the 18th floor, the lift’s doors closed. I get anxious in confined places so I looked for a distraction. I saw the figure again trapped in the two-dimensional door. He flexed his chest and rubbed his meaty hands against them. Somewhere, two nipples were trying to jut out of the tight gray shirt, surfing through the waves of his flexed pecs. The figure pinched both his nipples and the image delighted me. I felt a surge from my crotch and there was a slight drip from my pants. A short rush of happiness ran through me again and I would have dealt with myself again, if the the lift doors had not opened. I found myself in the hallway looking for Dean’s place. “Where the hell is 18G?” At that moment, I heard a scream.
  33. 9 points
    Trying something entirely new. Please tell me if its confusing or hard to follow. Lemme know how you found the story too. My name is Greg. And i guess you can say im a true bro. Don't let my age fool you. Even though im just entering college i have been bodybuilding for a few years now. Maybe I have good genes. But damm do people enjoy looking at these biceps. Anyway enough about me. Got a text from my best buddy Scott. I wonder hows he preparing for the audition to join the stud frat house we're both entering together. The auditions are tough tho. Only the hottest fittest muscled alpha boys gain entry. I doubt i have much to worry tho Thu 6 July Next afternoon after an intense morning gym session Fri 7 July A month of gymming later Fri 4 Aug The next afternoon Sat 5 Aug Because we didn't wanna risk people discovering our secret, Scott suggested we made the swap in the nearby forest. I had just finished my morning audition and i can safely say Im already in the frat club! I mean c'mon check out these pecs! Anyway to add some cockiness and douchebaggery to my look I wore my flashy bright loose stringer singlet hoping to show of more of my puppies. I hope it doesn't draw any attention here. Scott was already at the meeting location. he seemed pretty optimistic and he kept thanking me for the help i had done for him this past month. No biggy tho. The gym is my home anyway. And always happy to help a fellow bro. Cant believe we've been friends for so many years. I still rmb when i was shorter and smaller than him. Oh well... Scott looked at the time and hurried me to start the application to swap our bodies before he missed the audition. Well technically we don't actually swap bodies. We just swap out genes, muscle mass and height. Our looks and minds are still the same. I heard there are coders who know how to swap faces for a high fee. Never believed that rumor tho. With a press of a button a flash enveloped us. A sensation strong and intense filled my blood stream and before i knew it i looked down at my super baggy stringers. They were literally hanging off my sloppy shoulders! My sporty sunglasses were now too big for my face and i could feel its weight pressing down on my nose. I adjusted my sunglasses and took it off my face and gazed at the epitome of male perfection in front of me. "Holy Crap! You're ripped as fuck Scott!" The words just escaped my mouth without me even realizing. I watched as Scott flashed his pearly white teeth that reflected in the sun's glare. He licked his lips seductively as he felt his arms and pecs thoroughly. He than lifted an eyebrow while feeling his crotch. "I've never seen you naked before Greg but now i know why the girls call you the "impeller" We both laughed as i too felt my current manhood. It was certainly much less than what i expected. In fact almost everything that was swapped, our biceps, our height.... it all seemed to be in excess. it seem more like a muscle gain for Scott and and a Muscle drain for me. but oh well. By the end of tonight i'll be back in my body again. As our current clothes were all too big or small for one another we simply traded each others. I took his smaller black shirt and we exchanged our khaki shorts. I offered him my cap and helped him turn it sideways for the extra cockiness. And than I passed him my shades which he promptly put on to display in his full glory. A true cocky frat boy. I hope he enjoys it while it last today. We took one last selfie together before we parted ways. Before getting into my car I turned around to ask Scott "Hey Scott, so i guess you should be done by 8 tonight? I'll just swing by your place tonight and we can swap back?" Admiring his own reflection on his car mirror, It took him 3 full seconds before he noticed me "Oh i forgot to mention i got some work to settle in the night. Might not be the best time" Thinking of the next date i replied "What about Tuesday? You free during the afternoon?" While flexing his bicep he tuned to me after a few seconds "Sure...." Maybe it was just me but i sensed something off with that reply. Hmm.... Maybe i'll just try taking this skinny body to the gym. See what magic i can do for this few days... A full week later Sun 13 Aug End Don't be shy to let me know how it was. I hope it wasn't messy or confusing. Thanks for reading For those wanting to continue. Part 2 link is below
  34. 8 points
    I saw you were asking to be morphed in another thread so i thought id take a quick, rough stab at it using the muscle suit as a base
  35. 8 points
    ~It's my first story written so please tell me what I should change/re-think. Much appreciated, enjoy! ~~~~ When I was 7 years old, my mother introduced me to a random boy living near me, his name was Mariusz, he was 4 years older than me. We were like water and fire, completely different. I would rather stay only with him outside, he would rather bring a lot of friends and go somewhere and drink some alcohol, you know what I mean. We quickly became friends because... well... there werent many children around our place, but we quickly found one topic to talk about. Muscles. We were always watching those Muscle canals on the television, muscle competitions and all that stuff. We loved it. When I was 12 years old, so Mariusz was 16 by that time. I started all this puberty bullshit, actually it went pretty easy on me and what I mean is. I got some muscles I guess, some hairy on my body, a bit around my nipples and that's basically it, I didn't cry to my parents about changes because I read it all on the internet so I knew what I should prepare for. Mariusz, on the other hand was a complete bomb. Before the puberty he was already bigger than other boys in his age, but after the puberty he stood nearly 5'11 at only 16 years old! That's crazy. Aaaand of course I got boner everytime I looked at him, it seems he didn't mind after all. I finally hit 19 years, 5'10 at the time. Got some muscles but still looking a bit nerdy amount of hair still was the same. After Mariusz and their parents moved out to other city I started some book readings, went to the gym and gained some muscles. I'm very proud of my gain even tho it's not really much. I think I'm going to ga- **BZZT** Oh, it was a long time since last time I got a message, it took me 7minutes to find my phone, it was hidden under all my layers of clothes on my bed, they should be in the wardrobe, but meh. Mariusz : Hey, guess what! I'm moving back to our city back again! Gonna be at our place tomorrow at 17, meet you there! Oh damn, that was unexpected, of course I didn't forget about Mariusz, I still jerked off to his pictures after all. I couldn't sleep that night, I was wondering how he gonna react to me to get those muscled, how we both gonna react to each other after that kind of long brake. We haven't seen each other for almost 1 year. Welp, you know what they say, if you can't fall asleep, just jerk off! (People don't really say such things but I just created it for the purpose of this story im sorry) So I did....of course to him. -All right, it's 16:50 he is going to be here right in a moment - I told it to myself holding two bottles of some normal beer, he always loved drinking some alcohol. While I was waiting I was obviously browsing my tumblr page about muscle people all around the globe, the biggest biceps, the biggest calves and so on... And then a shadow covered whole my person so I knew Mariusz finally came here but I gotta tell you, I wasn't ready for what I've actually seen. There was this monster, hulk, yeti, sasquatch, beast, every word would match this thing because this ain't human. -Hey there Adam, long time no see! - Mariusz sai- no, he roared to me. -Wow Mariusz, wh-what even happened to you, how did you- what happened!? - I tried to make any complete sentence but my brain just couldn't. -Heh, sit down, give me this beer and I will tell you completely everything. -So it actually happened 1year before my puberty hit me up, some random person on the internet wrote to me if I want to get some muscles and be bigger, and me, as a braindead kid, replied that I of course want to gain mass! He explained to me his newest formula so I just tried it! I drank it and went to sleep just as he told me to. The morning I gained 5 pounds of pure muscles! I'm sorry that I didn't told you this but I was scared that you are going to ran away from me and I would lose my best friend, but after I discovered that you are gay, I have got to say something to you... I'm... I-... -Oh come on Mariusz, watever you say i'm not going to be mad at you, we are best friends after all. -Yeah, I'm sorry. I'm... in hard deep love with you, for about 5years already... - He closed his eyes and holded his breath like a bad puppy waiting for his penalty for eating garbage or doing something wrong. -Oh Mariusz.. - I put a hand on his hand, standing on the bench so I can reach his head and pet him like a puppy. -Of course I'm not mad at you, how could I be mad at you when I do the actuall same thing to you? - I laugh silently. Mariusz's eyes went wide as they could. -R-really?. -Yes, my little dumbass, really. - We looked into each other eyes for a moment when I snapped. - But wait, tell me how did you get those all muscles! Holy shit dude, did you even measured yourself? -Not yet, I guess you will have to do it! End of Part I, part II will be up today as well, so, what do you think?
  36. 8 points
    Previous Parts Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 8.5 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | We'd gone about life as normal. But Jeff and I did get fired from our jobs. We had missed enough time recovering from our growth sessions, and there was great suspicion as we'd reached a point we couldn't really hide our growth at the office any more. You may want a progress update. Here we are. So....yeah, there wasn't any more hiding it. We got a few months of severance pay, so we took some time to evaluate our decisions as to what happened next. No matter what, we knew we would be in it together. I came into the dining room one day to see my muscle monster man sitting with papers, calculators, and figures. He looked up at me and pondered, "You know, I wonder if my semen mixing into yours made yours potent as well? And if so, how different?" "I don't know, Jeff. I hadn't thought about it." Then I shifted the subject. "Hey, I have a school reunion in a week, I'll be gone for 4 days. Want to tag along?" "Nah, I'll poke around here, get some things taken care of, catch up on some projects. You ok with that?" "Sure," I said. Either way honestly was fine with me. With Jeff, I'd have a trophy to lug around. Without him, I'd have more time to catch up with friends. "I head out in the morning." Jeff pulled me in and squeeze my pecs. "I'll miss you. Come back soon."
  37. 8 points
    Hello, readers. By now you’ve heard of “King Ricky,” the giant, muscled Adonis who just a week ago was introduced to the world when he suddenly grew out of a 2 story house and continued growing until he was about 70 feet tall, then set up shop in a town in the Midwest, destroying the public library and turning the wreckage into a giant throne, crowned himself the King (not of anything – just, The King) and enslaved the population of the town (although the majority succumbed willingly and happily). That giant is me – and this is the story of how I came to be a giant worshipped as a god, and my plans for the future. I’ll be honest – I was a big, fucking guy before this happened. 6’3”, 275 lbs, 52” chest, 21” biceps, 34” waist (although my ass is so muscular and my cock so big – 6” soft, 10” hard) that I had to wear 36”’s or theyd explode off me. And I was a genius. I was so smart I skipped several grades as a youngster, graduating elementary at 12; high school at 16; got my 1st degree at 19, my second degree at 20. I was also a late bloomer. I didn’t really hit puberty until the end of my senior year of h.s. I was the class nerd….a gay class nerd, with a raging attraction…no, it was more than that…it was a deep desire, for muscle. I was attractd to the big jocks; obsessed with bulky, hulking, muscular actors and athletes. But I fully embraced my status as a nerd, and never really thought of wanting to be like that myself….muscular jocks and science nerds are pretty mutually exclusive. I was bullied…and probably would have been bullied more except for the fact I always had a pretty big dick, I was full grown by junior year of high school in that area. Even among “straight” males, a big dick earns you respect, which is weird, but whatever. When I hit puberty, I was surprised when I discovered how easily I put on size and muscle – and realized genetically I must be more similar to my grandma’s brothers, who are all linebacker/muscle hugeness. The first day back senior year, one of the coaches came up to me and remarked “holy shit Ricky, you blew up over summer!” and squeezed my bicep. At the time I was only 5’8” still and had probably a 14” bicep but a switch flicked and that brush of muscle-attention became a raging addiction. I began working out like a fiend, and by the time I was 20, I was 6’3” and 200 lbs. I was a walking contradiction – I was a pretty big hulking brute, but I was a triple major in applied physics, biology, and latin, and pre-med to boot…. So I kind of lived in two worlds: the world of the science nerds and the world of the jocks. I was a nerd at heart, and kind of introverted and even shy. It was an odd paradox. I craved the attention people would give my physique and size, but it also embarrassed me. And so I kind of had a Dr.Jekyll and Mr. Hyde thing going. I joined all these macro-muscle fetish web sites and posted pictures and vids of myself and even cammed, eating up the attention the legions of fans/worshippers would give me, but by day I was a cardigan and khaki wearing nerd….even if my muscles continuously stretched my clothes out more and more the bigger I grew. I would get jabs from my peers about being a musclehead/meathead, a jock in nerd's clothes, but I had the brains to prove my mettle. At 28 I got my doctorate and headed up a lab affiliated with a university. Word had spread of a genius freshman, an 18 year old named Qualyn. Despite the fact I had 10 years on him, I was immediately struck by how beautiful a boy he was. I like nerdy looking guys; thin but toned – and he was perfect, about 5’7”, Clark kent glasses, black hair, a handsome, boyish face, about 130 lbs…I was over twice his size and a full 8 inches taller than he was. I dared not expose my attraction for him; plus I believed him to be straight anyways. Whenever he was around me, I could tell he was extremely nervous and it made me chuckle. He stammered when he'd speak to me, even sweat sometimes… part of me was extremely turned on by his obvious reaction of deference and intimidation. I started wearing tight fitting polo shirts when I knew he was going to be interning that showed off my chest and arms and I would do things like put my hands on his shoulders or stand in doorways making him squeeze around me. The way his face would turn beet red and he would start stammering out an apology if he felt he was in my way or had inconvenienced me somehow was so fucking erotic. Im sure a few times he had to have felt the 10 inch bulge straining to free itself from my khakis as he squeezed around me on occasion. One day, Qualyn asked to make an appointment to see me. I was shocked, and I have to admit, for as inappropriate as I feel saying it, I was a bit giddy. I had a major crush on the boy but would never admit it or say it out loud. He came to my office hours and my face lit up like a Christmas tree when he entered. “Hi Qualyn, come on in. Have a seat.” “Thank you Dr. Mc…” I cut him off. “Qualyn, please, call me Rick. You don’t have to be so formal. “Okay Dr. Rick.” I smirked at him. “Ww…w…um….we..well…. well.. th..thank you fa…for having me” he stammered, beads of sweat forming on his brow. I couldn’t help but stare him up and down, the way his clothes fell upon his slight but sinewy frame….plus those two ripe peaches for ass cheeks forming a noticeable bubble in his trousers. “Of course Qualyn, what can I do for you?” I smiled to myself and raised my arms, clad in short sleeves and an XL oxford button down that was about to rip off me… I had done 2 hours at the gym earlier in the day and had quite a pump going still. I flexed my biceps behind my head and observed his reaction. A crooked smile spread across my lips as I saw a lump form in his throat as his eyes widened slightly staring at my arms. “Wow you’re fucking big” he blurted out. I burst out in a laugh. “Haha well…thank you…I think? Is that why you came to see me?” He was bright red realizing he had just said that out loud. “I… I’m so sorry sir, I didn’t mean to disrespect you… I… I just… I was wondering if I could hang out with you at the gym some time.” His puppy dog eyes tugged at my heart strings as I met his glance. “Well..” I said, still flattered, “I usually encourage the interns and most of the staff not to socialize outside of lab hours out of respect for everybody’s work being treated with a fair shake and judged solely on their merits and not brownie points…” “But, I’m not the one giving you your grade, and in fact have very little latitude over your GPA or credit hours anyways, so yeah I can make an exception for you. You trying to bulk up?” “Oh….oh thank you sir” he stammered. “Um… well yes and no. I just don’t like being the wimpy science nerd. I’ve been following your career for a long time and when I first saw what you looked like from google I thought it was cool you were…forgive me for bringing this up…but buff as hell and a major deal in the science community.” “well I don’t know about ‘buff as hell,’ or ‘a major deal.’ I laughed. “I know many guys who put me to shame in my gym. I just lift weights because I used to be a wimpy kid and I wanted to turn the tables on the bully and defend the other wimpy guys who couldn’t protect themselves.” I lied, leaving out the part that I was seriously attracted to muscle and I was obsessed with being muscular and that I got off to all things muscle worship. “Si…sir…. I mean…fuck! You’re the size of a bull. Everyone on campus talks about the bodybuilder who runs the school’s lab.” I laughed again, feigning modesty. Secretly I was eating this up. My boner was about to tear through my pants. I was precumming shot glasses worth. The object of my affection was sitting here pouring praise on my body. I felt like a vampire going in for the kill. “Well, I can sure give you some pointers. To keep It kosher what do you say we exercise at the school gym? That way we aren’t hanging out outside school grounds.” “Sure thing Dr. Rick, whatever you say! Thank you! Should I meet you there at 7?” “That works great,” I replied. “Have a great day Qualyn, and remember, you can talk to me about anything. Thanks again.” I watched his cute bubble butt bounce its way out as he left. I looked at the clock, and realized I would have just enough time to get my oil changed and make it back to campus to meet him that night. However, when I got to the auto shop, they revealed to me I had a leak in my engine and should leave it overnight for repairs. I texted Qualyn, sure he would be disappointed….but got an almost instant phone call back offering to pick me up from there. I thought about it, and decided to take him up on it. About ten minutes later, his car pulled up. “Hey I wanted to say I appreciate you picking me up. I can give you some gas money for it.” “N..n…no that’s alright! I’m just happy you still wanted to go with me. I really appreciate it.” We went to the gym and I showed him the ropes on working out, spotting him on all the different exercises, giving him a good beginner’s routine. When we finished, he asked if he could give me a lift back to my place which was just off-campus. I reached for my house keys and realized I had fucking left them at the auto shop, with my car keys. I had no way back into my house. “You can crash at my place….that is…that is if ..if you want. I know we’re not supposed to hang out outside school but you’re soaking wet with sweat and my dad who is out of town has some clothes you can sleep in at least until you can get to the place first thing tomorrow to get your keys.” I don’t know if it was the post-workout high, or the fact his gorgeous twinkling smile sent me over the edge, but for some stupid reason I consented. We made our way back to his house, which was beautiful. His parents were apparently wealthy and were out of town on business so he had the palce to himself. He showed me to the guest bathroom and gave me some linens and some sweats. Inside the shower was the oddest array of shampoos and body soaps I’d ever seen. As I was lathering up I heard the door creak open. “Qualyn?” I asked, trepidatiously. “Is that you?” “Ye…yes sir. I’m sorry. I just realized I should tell you some of those body washes are kind of…home made concotions I made as an experiment.” I heard him come closer, and instinctively went to cover myself. The shower door slid open. “Um… dude!” I shouted, sensing my privacy invaded. Instead of looking away, though, Qualyn just stared, locked eyes with me,a nd then slowly moved his gaze down at my wide shoulders, thick, heavy meaty pecs, down the outline of my abs to the “V” shape of my pelvis….and the outline of my thickening, growing cock which I found impossible to conceal with just one hand. “I.. I’m sorry Qualyn…” I said, embarrassed at the rapidly growing boner. “I… I don’t know what came over me I know this isn’t professional.” Qualyn’s jaw dropped, and then his hands moved to his shirt, lfting it up and over his head, then unfastened his pants and dropped them to the floor, stepping out of them. He had an erection as well. He stepped over the bathtub liner and into the shower with me. “Si…sir… please…. I’ve… since beforeI even met you I’ve been fantasizing about you and your body. You’re the ultimate man…you’re so fucking beautiful to me.” I couldn’t help but blush as his hand took my wrist and moved my hand away from the massive boner I was now sporting. He took it in his hand and I shuddered in ecstasy as he slowly moved his hand down it. He couldn’t even get his fingers all the way around it as he stroked it up and down. His other hand explored my pecs and he stood up on his toes to bring his lips to mine. I eagerly met his kiss and explored his mouth with my tongue and pressed my body against him against the wall of the shower. “You’re so big” he kept panting as I bit his neck, nibbled his ears, pecked his lips, grabbed his ass and kneaded his cheeks with my hand. Just then he reached for one of the unmarked bath soap bottles, and out came a neon purple liquid. He squirted it all over me and said “Let me clean you.” I was not prepared for what happened next. He began liberally applying the soap all over my body, rubbing it into my muscles as he generously felt me up. He got on his knees and rubbed it all over my outer and inner thighs, my ball sack, and my shaft as well. I grinned as I watched my huge cock bobbing up and down on his face while he looked like a thirsty desert nomad for it. The bath soap began to tingle, however….and I felt a funny sensation in my stomach and all throughout my skin. It took an instant for me to realize, but I noticed my skin felt more taut and I felt heavier. I then realized the shower looked to get more and more cramped. “What…what the fuck?! What is happening?!” as I noticed the roof of the shower getting closer. “I’m sorry sir to have tricked you but you need to realize..you’re a god among men. You’re so fucking magnificent…and I see the way you don’t embrace how big you are and how massive and powerful…you seem to shy away from it as you reach the brink. I’ve made this lotion somewhat a growth potion….” As he backed away as I continued to expand. Before I knew it, my head bumped into ceiling. I feared for his and my safety. He backed away but miscalculated the rate and extent of my growth. I turned to make space for myself in the ever-shrinking shower cubicle and my expanding ass cheeks pinned Qualyn right between them against the shower wall, and then lifted him up off the ground and inched him higher and higher off the ground. Trapped between a giant muscle ass with cheeks growing on either side of him lifting him up. “Oh fuck” he squealed. “Don’t flex your ass cheeks!” I was panicking and freaking out. I couldn’t lower my head any more against the ceiling of the shower and finally reached back to punch out the shower door. “NO, my dad will kill you!” he stammered, losing his breath. “Qualyn you have bigger problems than your dad killing you rigt now!” I managed to squeeze a turn around to free him from my massive ass muscles but instead my cock pinned him against the wall this time, like a giant elephant trunk. He spread his legs across either side of it to straddle it , facing my body, his back being pressed against the shower wall this time. I had run out of room so I lifted my giant arms, with now beach-ball sized biceps over my head and pressed through the ceiling , giving an “Aaaaargh” of effort. I broke through the ceiling as my head and shoulders kept expanding, breaking through the piping, then into the attic. I couldn’t see when I looked down because the attic floor was blocking my view. I was worried about the weight giving way as w were on the 2nd floor as well. I broke apart some of the attic floor boards so I could make sure Qualyn was alright. I had to be passing 12 feet at this point and felt the floor rumbling. “Qualyn, the floor is going to give way!” I reached to grab him, my hands large enough to hold him between them at this point. The floor burst open beneath my feet and I felt myself falling, holding on to Qualyn tight. I shielded him in my hands from the debris from the two floors above us collapsing on top of him by holding him under my chest as I leaned over him, the plaster and brick and mortar bouncing harmlessly off my still growing back. Before I could even get my bearings I felt pressure again as I realized my growing back was spreading against intact portions of the 1st floor ceiling as my legs kicked through wall, door, furniture, and the like as they grew. I estimated I was now at least 30 feet as I could hold Qualyn securely in one hand. I tucked my head between my legs as the growth continued, and I heard the utter demolition of the house around me collapsing. I let Qualyn go from my hand as he took refuge between the walls of my legs, crossed Indian style. I was worried they would crush him between them. After what seemed like an eternity, I stopped growing. I opened my eyes and blinked. I stood up and was completely shocked at what I saw. I stood a clear 30 feet from the roof of what remained of their house. Not only that but my muscles had grown proportionally much, MUCH larger. My cock hung down a solid 15 feet. I saw Qualyn crawling out of the rubble, across the top of my foot. He came up only to my ankle. The look on his face was indescribable. He flung himself to the ground and prostrated himself before me. “Oh great one, majesty! I have just witnessed the birth of a god, a true god!” he yelled. I have to admit… the rush that I was feeling (and still feel ) was nothing short of fucking in-cred-ible. To look down at my 70 foot body, giant mountains of pecs, a huge distended roid gut with giant SUV-sized abdominal bricks lining them, an ass like two huge boulders, a cock longer than a school bus- flaccid – hanging down to my kneecaps which were the size of old fashioned satellite dishes. I could see for miles in every direction; the tops of the old growth trees came up to my nipples. I could pull a 100 year old oak out of the earth with one hand. I couldn’t stop my cock from getting harder than it had ever been my entire life, and I marveled at its size – it was easily several time larger than the largest man who had ever lived. The feeling of raw, invincible power that surged and coursed through me was more an aphrodisiac than any drug in the world. I took note of Qualyn’s groveling. I reached down and brought my face to his. My head was several times taller than he was and I noticed a tricke of piss form in his pants and run down his pant leg. He was literally pissing his pants in front of me. I felt angry at his deception – how was I going to explain this? How was I ever going to get back to normal? But at the same time, part of me was reveling in this change – knowing I was the most powerful thing on Earth, that nobody could stop me, and that maybe I didn’t want to – or should – go back. I picked him up in my hand and brought him up to my other arm, and flexed a bicep in front of him – the giant arm pushing up to about 30 feet in circumference. “I should CRUSH YOU with my bicep for what you did to me Qualyn!” my voice booming in his ears; the wind causing his hair to blow back. He began shaking lke a terrified chihuaha. “Pll…please…please Dr. Ricky….I’m sorry, I just thought you deserved to be a god!” “IF I AM A GOD THEN WHY DO YOU STILL CALL ME RICKY?” I yelled, causing him to yelp. “CALL ME ‘MASTER’!” I gave him a threat squeeze to show him I meant business, not realizing how strong and huge I actually was and how much that hurt him. I ended up bruising several of his ribs by accident. He screamed in pain and began sobbing. I set him down. The realization of how much power I now possessed was intoxicating, to say the least. I couldn’t get over how massively powerful I had become. I looked down at the palatian home that now barely came up to my waistline. I laughed to myself when I saw that my erection was itself easily capable of breaking through several feet of roofing material as it got impossibly larger and thicker. In the distance I saw the faint, flickering light of police mars lights and the sound of sirens, slowly getting louder. I took stock of my surroundings. The home sat on a lot of property, but there were still other homes around – I estimated the yard to be about 3 acres. What I didn’t realize at the moment was a neighbor had recorded the entire production of my growth through the house and was already being broadcasted to several news stations. Any hope I had of being the quiet, unknown muscle guy evaporated as millions of people began watching the incredible viral video of a man becoming over 10 times his original size and destroying a home as he attained godhood. There were also several bystanders aggregating by the front of the home. I let out a roar as I figured I should put on a show for my new fans, and was met by a collective sound of screams and “aaahs.” I flexed a bicep high into the air, grinning as I stared at it and felt it up with my other hand. I noticed a few of the braver onlookers had joined Qualyn at my feet and stared up at me in awe and total worship and admiration. Some had fallen to their knees and were silently praising me, others were caught up in an ecstatis rapture, rolling against the ground and throwing themselves down at my feet, and a few others had a totally blank look in their eyes, their dicks were out, blatantly masturbating while they just stared up, their jaws wide open, speechless and utterly devoted. I grinned down at these observers and thought they deserved a better look. I stepped up and out of the house, allowing the hole I had created to collapse in on itself, and stepped up to mere feet away from the crowd. My giant cock bobbed in front of me and a 10-gallon droplet of precum rolled off the tip of my cockhead and splashed to the ground. Immediately a few of the madding crowd leaped at it in a frenze and began to lap it up, rubbing it all over themselves, moaning in ecstacy. I cocked my head back and let out a mischievous laugh. “Oh fuck,” I thought to myself. “these people are literally drinking my cum as sustenance.” I crouched down to better view the menagerie of giant worshipping runts who were staring in awe at me. I drank in the reality of the situation; that they were individually about the size of the nose on my face. I noticed one who was shaking in his boots and brought my face to about a foot away from his. “WHAT IS YOUR NAME?” I commanded. He froze in place, locked in fear. I swear I could almost hear his heart rate screaming through his chest. His eyes were staring – not at me – but straight ahead of himself, and so I looked down to see what he was looking at, and I couldn’t help but let out a laugh. My cock – over 15 feet long, was stretching from between my crouched legs and terminating about 2 feet from his head. My cockhead was almost the size of his entire body. My shaft was several times the length and width of his body and could crush him into pulp easily – probably without my feeling it. Does anyone want me to keep writing this story? Let me know, honest feedback appreciated. thank you for your time!
  38. 7 points
    Primera historia que posteo en español espero que la disfruten. Si quieren que la siga por favor muestren su apoyo Hace mucho tiempo que estoy enamorado de mi compañero de clase heterosexual, pero no fue hasta hace unos días que decidí tomar cartas en el asunto. Joaquín es de los deportistas del colegio, juega un juego famoso aca llamado Rugby. Muchos lo deben conocer por sus jugadores fornidos y masculinos y él no era la excepción. Aunque no tan grande como los de la televisión, Joaquin a sus dieciséis años ya medía un metro noventa y sus músculos empezaban a notarse. Tenía unos ojos negros impresionantes que combinaban con su pelo y el tono oscuro de su piel latina. Joaquín y yo nunca fuimos amigos cercanos, aunque algunas raras veces vino a mi casa. Pertenecemos a mundos diferentes, él era deportista y yo todo lo contrario. Aunque solo tenía quince mi cuerpo estaba fuera del promedio. Conocía que eran los bíceps y abdominales solo por verlos en otros hombres pero por mi parte nunca los tuve. Media un metro ochenta ,y aunque no era bajo, me mantenía en el promedio. Mi pelo era marrón y mis ojos verdes, pero lo que más destacaba de mi era mi casi inexistente pene de dos cm y mi culo mas que prominente, monstruoso. Fue hace unos días buscando por internet porno, una pagina de publicidad se me abrio. “Pócimas para el amor y la vida Avenida libertador 386” Fue en ese momento cuando decidí en ir a investigar. Un dia despues de clases me desvie un poco de mi ruta normal para ir a mi casa. Mientras caminaba recordé el incidente que había tenido devuelta hoy en el vestuario. Las risas de mis compañeros al ver mi paquete desnudo se había hecho costumbre, junto con los golpes y empujones que siempre lo acompañaban. Javier era el q mas me molestaba. De casi un metro noventa y ocho y un cuerpo bien tallado yo siempre era su presa. Todo se calmaba cuando llegaba Joaquín a separarnos. Cuando me conecte otra vez con la realidad me dí cuenta de que había llegado. El negocio en cuestión consiste en una puerta muy chiquita y cero ventanas. Empuje la puerta para encontrarme en una habitación circular con aspecto muy lúgubre. Estantes de lo que parecían ser líquidos de colores se encontraban a lo largo de las paredes. En el centro una mesa redonda se erguía y en la cima una bola de cristal con una campanita de hotel al lado. Toque la campana y me senté a esperar en uno de los cojines de la mesa. “Ya lo atiendo” gritó una señora que a juzgar por su voz cargaba muchos años de vida. Una puerta q se encontraba detrás mío se abrió y de ella salió una mujer de por lo menos ochenta años vestida con una túnica negra hasta el piso y unos collares con gemas que parecían antiquísimos. -¿Qué es lo q desea?- -Necesito una poción para volver gay a mi amigo heterosexual- -JAJAJAJAJAJAJA- Rió la vieja mujer - eso es lo que todos los homosexuales de tu edad quieren. Ven, toma, pon tu mano encima de ls esfera primero veamos tu destino- Hice lo q la mujer pidió incrédulo y por dentro de la espera un humo empezó a salir. Ahí es cuando lo vi todo. Yo era alto y estaba jugando al rugby con Joaquín. Mis músculos se notaban a través de mi uniforme transpirado. Era heterosexual y tenía una novia. Pero de repente pusieron la decisión de ser capitán del equipo entre Joaquín y yo. Joaquín sabia que yo ganaría entonces vino a la misma bruja que yo y le compró dos pócimas. Una para que yo y el resto de personas no se den cuenta de mi cambio y otra para volverme lo que soy un estúpido, débil y sumiso pasivo quien nadie recuerda quien era antes. Cerré mis ojos y los volvi a abrir, no creyéndome los flashes de memoria que recien habia experimentado. -¡El me lo robo todo solo por ser capitán!- grité mientras mi percepción de mi compañero cambiaba. Me sentía frustrado y dolido, especialmente defraudado. - Es verdad, pero estas en suerte querido porque con la poca plata que poseía tu Ex amigo no llegó a comprar el seguro. Por un módico precio te puedo vender la poción para convertirte en un viril activo y la pocion para convertirlo a el en un pasivo y si quieres tambien te regalo una para enamorarlo. La única que te saldría cara seria la que utilizarias para que nadie se de cuenta de los cambios.- Me quedé unos segundos absorbiendo toda la información y contesté. -Me llevo todas menos la del olvido, no la voy a necesitar- Una sonrisa se marcó en los labios de la mujer al entregarme las pocimas y la sonrisa suya se me contagió a mi. “Cambio de planes”
  39. 7 points
    Previous Parts Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 8.5 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 11.5 I got into my hometown on a Thursday afternoon. I’d flown a quick two hour flight from my city. Honestly, other than my work (now my former work, since I’d been fired along with Jeff), it was the longest I’d spent in public since Jeff and I started living and growing together. I hadn’t expected the large number of looks I got. But I had to admit, I loved the attention. Kids looked at me like I was a superhero, and I’d flex my bicep for them, usually causing them to laugh. Many women looked at me as an object, and I was ok with that. Some looked at me as if I was grotesque, and I didn’t really mind. Some of the more upfront and courageous ones would ask to feel, and I never passed up an opportunity to flex the guns. And men looked at me with looks of jealousy, lust, and admiration. I was even more excited when they wanted to touch the guns! I couldn’t be the only 5’7” 205 lb muscle beast, but I could tell I wasn’t common. I was going to stay with Tom, a guy who was like a brother to me. I didn’t have any family left around this area, and Tom was the guy growing up who was always there for me. He was a few years younger than me, having just turned 22. He was still in the area, working a good job. We hadn’t talked as much recently, but I knew that he’d been a loner lately, no relationship with a lady currently on the books. He’d turned to the gym a couple of years ago, and he’d made good progress. He’d always been slender, but had put on some decent muscle. He came in about 6’, 155 lbs. He left me a key to his place, and had told me to let myself in as he’d be late tonight from work. I pulled up in my rental car, got out and carried my luggage to his front porch. As I got his key out and fiddled with the lock, I heard a whistling cat call. I looked up and it was Mrs. Ryder, his long time neighbor. She was a single woman, older than us by about 25 years, but incredibly...voracious. And very attractive - not just for someone in her fifties, but attractive, period. I had come back from college after my first semester and Mrs. Ryder showed a lonely young man some attention for the couple of weeks that I was there. It was a short-lived holiday fling, and we had both long since moved on. She did love herself some younger, more rambunctious men. “Hey good lookin’, don’t be a stranger!” Then it dawned on me...I don’t think she recognized me. I had plenty of time to be polite and neighborly later, so for now I just raised my arm and waved in her direction. When I did, her hand went to her chest and she undid a couple of shirt buttons and began fanning herself. I forgot...these biceps were still somewhat new to me. Apparently they held power beyond strength! I got in the house, put my stuff down, and felt my phone buzz. I pulled it out and read that it was from Melissa, my ex-girlfriend from high school days. We had dated for two years, but when we both went away to college, we decided it was best for us to split up and find our own ways in life. We had remained good friends and talked periodically. She was my first and would always hold a special place in my heart and mind. >>Hey Bryce, you in town? <<Yeah, I’m at Tom’s just settling in. He’s working late. >>Super! Hey, want to get a bite to eat tonight and catch up? <<Sure! I’m going to shower, let yourself in when you get here. I peeled off my clothes (all my clothes have to peel off these days, they’re so tight on my bulging muscles) and went into the bathroom. I stopped in front of the mirror and admired my throbbing pecs. Just a few months ago, I thought it would be a dream to be half the size I am now. These things are a wet dream come true for me! I was pretty sure all this growth and cum sharing had affected my libido, because sex was on my mind about 75% of the time, and 100% of the time when I caught my reflection in a mirror. My foot long cock sprang to action, and I gave myself a quickie into Tom’s toilet (I think I cracked the back of it firing my load). Then I jumped into the shower. I’d been in the shower a few minutes when I heard Melissa come in. “Bryce, I’m here! I’m just going to watch some TV, no hurry!” I could see her in the mirror in the bathroom. She looked like a more grown up version of the girl I had known over ten years ago. She was slender, took care of herself, had short cropped hair, and was wearing some casual clothes - shorts, a nerdy t-shirt, and a ball cap. She was just a shade taller than me at 5’8” but that was one of the things that we liked in our time together. She was lightly tanned and had a perky chest that wasn’t too big, wasn’t too small, was just right (see, sex on the mind). “I’ll be out in a few minutes, Melissa. Good to see you!” At that moment I got a text from Jeff. >> Hey dude...crazy ideas I’ve got rolling around, want to help me out with one while you’re out there? << Sure! >> OK. Remember how we wondered if my cum mixing with yours might have made any kind of reaction? << Yeah… >> So...let’s test it out. If you have a chance for a hook-up or two...take it! Let’s see if anything happens. << Jeff...you’re serious???? >> Yeah. I know how reunions can go at times. Let me know how it goes, gotta run. TTYL. That was odd, I had to admit. I wonder what “crazy ideas” he had going through his mind. I’m sure I’d hear all about it in a few days when I was back home with him. I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around my waist, and came out of the bathroom to get clothes. I walked by the living room where Melissa was. We’d been so close at one time that being naked in each other’s presence wasn’t anything that bothered either of us. “Hey, Melissa, good to see you!” I said as I passed by. She turned around to face me and jumped up from the couch. Then she stopped dead in her tracks. Uhoh, I had forgotten...she’s never seen me anywhere like this, with all this newly packed on muscle and size. “B...Bryce? I...is this...you? I…” “Yeah, it’s me. I’ve...been…” I stammered. Melissa collapsed. I reached out and caught her. With my strength, she felt light as a feather. I felt bad for frightening her and causing her to faint. But then I realized, she hadn’t passed out. She was moaning, and her eyes were rolling around up into her eye sockets. And her legs were flexing and twitching, her feet pushing out straight. And there was a very large wet spot on the crotch of her shorts. She was orgasming. The first spontaneous orgasm I had ever seen. This went on for a couple more minutes as I held her gently against my naked torso. As she slowly came out from the haze and realized her hand was against my granite veiny pecs, she reached her hands into her pants and caused it to happen again. She panted and gasped in my arms. When she came out of it again, her hands immediately went back to her pussy, but I grabbed them with my hands and held them. She pressed them against my chest, constantly groping lightly, never quite getting a good handful because of the thick density of the muscle that prevented much of a grip. “Melissa...I’ve been working out…” “Mmmm...yea, I can see.” Then I remembered Jeff’s text: “If you have a chance for a hook-up or two...take it!” Then I remembered a conversation with Jeff months ago, about his ex-wife: Melissa had already taken off her clothing. Yes, she was definitely taking care of herself. She had a slight squat booty and a flat stomach. Her boobs...they had no sag whatsoever. She began to undo my towel. I held her hands again. “Honey...there’ve been some changes down...there...too. I should warn you.” She looked at me and I’d swear she growled just a little bit. And down went the towel. She grabbed my shaft with both hands and pumped. It took only three pumps to get me fully erect at 18 inches, and only two more after that for me to shoot my load. She showed that coordination she was known for by leaping and grabbing my shots in midair in her mouth and swallowing. “You taste better than ever.” And she leaped onto my naked torso, behaving for all the world like she would devour me. Short of orgies with Jeff, I had never been this turned on. So, since I had Jeff’s blessing to do this, I lifted her ass with one hand and planted her on my rock hard dick. She screamed, first a scream of surprise, then becoming a scream of ecstasy. She rode me for the next hour, and I pumped and pumped into her constantly. I barely had to do any work, she was so excited and aroused she practically used my dick like a pogo stick. After an hour in which I showed no signs of losing any stamina or erection, she finally succumbed to exhaustion. I picked her naked form up, took her to the bed in the spare bedroom where I was staying, and laid her down on the bed gently. Her angelic form spread across the bed like a blanket with no life. “Don’t...stop Bryce. I can’t keep going...but I think you can. Keep it up.” I had always been a little heavier than Melissa, so I had experience being on top without being a pain. Now I carried twice the weight, but I could still please her without crushing her. She brought her hands up and rubbed my lats. I flared them out as she did, filling her fingers and causing her to gasp once more. I gently slid my cock up her and slowly pumped, working to protect her from harm. After another hour, I decided it was time to quit, even though I could still go. I laid down beside her, the smell of intercourse hanging in the air. I looked over at her and brushed her cheek with my hands. She groped my bicep with one hand and traced my abs with the fingers of her other hand. “Tomorrow, you’ll tell me more about this...but tonight...let’s just sleep. Like the old times.” “Yeah,” I agreed. Her eyes betrayed her exhaustion. “We’ve had a busy day.” She rolled over under the covers onto her back. “Good night, dear Bryce. I’m glad we got to see each other.” And then I noticed...her boobs...were perkier, pointing outward, and they looked slightly smaller. And her stomach bulged where it hadn’t before….
  40. 7 points
    Haha I love it all! I'm glad everyone likes my suit haha. I guess being weird and creative paid off!
  41. 7 points
    Part 2 As soon as I finished measuring Mariusz I wrote it all on the little paper I found on my desk. Height : 6'8" Weight : 310lbs Neck : 20" Shoulders : 33" Chest : 70" (!) Biceps : 24" Thighs : 35" Calves : 21" For a moment I just stood there, reading those numbers and I was thinking : "Is this even human?" Mariusz was always a bigger boy, sure, but this? -So what do you think? - Mariusz said with a grin on his face. -What do I think?! I think this is what some professional bodybuilders could imagine of! Where are you working out? -Nowhere. I dropped the paper and looked to his beautiful blue eyes, and I dont know when I did that, but I was sitting on his hands so my lips could actually touch his. We kissed like that for 3minutes, groaning, wanting more. When suddenly he stopped and we both looked to each others eyes. -So are you going to finish measuring me up? - Mariusz said with a huge grin on his face. -Ehm, did I miss something? I think we have got everything - I said wondering my eyes so I'm thinking what could I miss. Mariusz said nothing for a minute so I snapped back to him and then I realised he has his hands on my cheeks, after 10second my brain finally connected the dots and I quickly looked down, yes, I was sitting on his di- no, on his bulge. I jumped off from it and looked at it, his shorts went up a lot just to cover the bulge. Soon enough Mariusz started to strip the shorts away. What I have seen is indescribable. I gulped and took the measuring type and I measured it... 15 inches long and 10 inches around. This was NOT happening! -Can I... can I touch it please? - I asked still looking at the beast in front of me still being flaccid. Mariusz roared with laughter and then nodded with his head still having this sweet grin. The feeling of toaching this beast was the best feeling I ever got, and of course I didn't even notice when my dick got hard as well, I quickly hided it with my hands embarrased. But Mariusz was quicker, he was holding my hands with his own holding him like a guardian. "Don't" he said, "Don't be embarrased". So I stripped just as he did, my dick was only 8 inches long and 5inches around. Our dicks touched and then he quickly with his gigantic strength pulled me in a bear hug and started kissing me on my face and then quickly enough started going lower and lower when he finally was around my dick with his mouth. I don't even know what was going on, it was that fast. He started sucking it with his strength, God it felt amazingly. Soon enough I started cumming into his mouth, to my surprise he drank it all. He stood and I promise he was even higher than before! "Measure me now" He roared. Height : 6'9" Weight : 310lbs Neck : 20" Shoulders : 33" Chest : 70" (!) Biceps : 24" Thighs : 35" Calves : 21" Wow you grew! This is amazing! How did you do that?! He laughed, took my hand and slowly went to the kitched, ducking under any doors just to not hit the ceiling. It made me hard again. He showed me some weird color liquid. -You see, this is the mixture that I created from formula from that mysterious man, this thing right here makes me grow like a Hulk! -But, you grew without any mixture just from sucking my cum, so how is that possible? -I just discovered it right now as well, I want to see if anything happens if we mix both our cum with this mixture, care to help me? Lover? My knees went weak when he said that lover, I nodded and he quickly started to suck me off. When I was just about to cum he quickly started to jerk off his huge monster with both his hands, now hard 18long and 11inches around. We both cum into the bowl with the mixture, my load was a bit smalle than before but when I looked at Mariusz's load, my eyes went wide to the level I could break my eyes. Streams of cum was literally pumping out of his cock, into the mixture quickly filling it up to the maximum so the cum was flooding out of the bowl dropping at the floor, quickly making a small layer of liquid I stood in. My load was finished a long time ago but he still stood there nearly touching the ceiling with his short dark hair but the load isn't even near to end. Then he snapped back from his beautiful moments and targeted his dick towards his mouth and drank the cum, it finally started to stop. -Why did you drink your cum? Does it make you grow too? -Nah, just was thirsty and just look how much cum there is already on the floor, you don't want to clean that don't you? I then realised how much cum there were actually on the floor, it was reaching my ankle. Wet white and tasteful cum.. all that wasted. Mariusz grabbed the bowl with his huge a bit hairy hands and drank it all. His belly was a bit blowed up. And then, I heard the loudest BURP I ever had, I think some may think it was a earthquake. He dropped the bowl to the ground, making a blop sound when it hit the cum. He started moaning and fell to his knees splashing cum all over me with his weight. Quickly he started growing! In front of my eyes. His hands, feet everything started to grow! After about 20seconds of growing he finally stood up, hitting the ceiling with his head. "Measure me now" His voice went deeper a lot, some old man vikings couldn't even match his voice now! I quickly got the measuring tape and started measuring everything. Height : 7'2" Weight : 345lbs Neck : 24" Shoulders : 37" Chest : 85" (!) Biceps : 27" Thighs : 38" Calves : 25" And then he hit the biggest double bicep pose I could ever imagine! His biceps getting nearly to the height of his head, nearly touching the ceiling. I asked if I could measure the feet as well, he nodded. He raised his huge leg with his huge feet out of the cum so I could actually measure it. Feet : 14 (By American feet size system) But then I saw something, he started growing hair! There were a bit facial hair, his pecs had a visible layer of hair, his armpit had a forest of hair, sweat just going out and out from that swamp infinitely, his forearm was huge and densed with hair. His Huge layer quickly went across his pecs and stone sized abs to his bulge. Balls were still visible under all that fur but it was hard. Oh and his bulge, I forgot to measure it ! Cock : 20 inches long hard 14inches around hard. The monster was covered by hair, down to his gigantic thighs and calves, his knee was covered with a bit hair! His feet were already huge but now it had a nice line of hair across his feet fingers. -Holy shit, Mariusz, this is incredible! What you are going to do about it now? -We are going to show our strength to the World and I will grow even more, making super professionals super small compared to me, and you will help me, right? -Of course darling, I will. End of Part 2 So there was the Muscle Growth I promised There will be more and more with each chapters, thanks for reading! (Fun fact, I was hard through the whole time writing this part and I jerked off to it after finishing, haha)
  42. 7 points
    Jun 3 A week later, Jun 10 A month later, Jul 8 More than a month later, Aug 20 3 weeks Later Sep 9 The same day Sep 9 Brad's Place 11.30PM The door bell rang while an excited Brad rushed to open his door. What awaited at his doorsteps was the epitome of perfection itself. The greek gods themselves would have been embarrassed to even compare themselves with Chad. He showed hardly any emotion except for a few smirks occasionally as he flexed and posed his body in the moon light knowing all too well with every image of his muscles and cocky attitude he was controlling Brad. Brad proceeded to touch the bodybuilder's chest before him while Chad stared him down. Brad could feel all that muscles, all that solid hard muscles. He than moved his fingers up to Chad's shoulders and caressed his awesome biceps. It was just amazing. Brad had spent months paying for all of Chad's supplements and protein for Chad to become the super god he was tonight. And in his heart Brad knew it was all worth it as he inspected his other body parts to notice what an amazingly toned and fit stud he had created. Chad simply pushed Brad to the side arrogantly and let himself into the house, he took of his sunglasses and skimpy stringers and looked towards Brad "Lets just get it done. I'm doing my chest and shoulders tml" Brad closed his front door and moved close to the super stud. He slided his fingers from Chad's shoulders down to his palms. He than squeezed his palms and held his hands. He then led him through the darkness into a separate room. "Why are your lights off bitch?" Chad voiced out "I had to use my remaining money to pay for your protein and gym membership Sir.." Brad replied Chad snicked before asking "Was it worth it doing all these for me? Even giving me the rest of your muscles now? "YESSIRRRRR" Brad replied. "Good Boy" Chad smirked to himself in the darkness. "Now take this pill and swallow it" Brad handled something small into Chad's hand as he heard Chad placing it in his mouth and swallowing it. Brad than put his hands behind Chad's head and pushed the young studs face to his own in the darkness while both men locked lips for a few minutes. Both tongues struggled for dominance and there lips felt each others faces. "Trust me Sir. you will be huge and beastly. Now get on the bed in the position" Brad instructed. Chad felt his way in the darkness with only the glimmer of light coming from a window opposite the bed he was lying on doggie style. From the window he could see a street light but still it was very dark. He knew he had to do this. A little bit of discomfort for a much bigger reward as he could feel Brad's cock feeling his asshole. "Maybe i should use some lube Sir. A min Sir" Brad said as he pulled out slowly. Chad could hear some noises from behind him but could only see what was happening outside of the window. Brad returned and slowly felt his cock around Chad's asshole. It was slimy from the lube but it slid into Chad's man hole perfectly. Brad than slowly but surely begin thrusting his meat in. The more he pushed the more both men moaned. Chad had never felt such sensation being a top and fucking only pussy. Never had he realized anal pleasure to feel so incredible. The feeling of a warm dick in your hole was simply sensational. He couldn't stop to think about anything else. With a final thrust Brad let out a loud moan as his hot cum begin to flood into Chad. Similarly an explosively new feeling for Chad, to feel the cum flow from his anus to the other parts of his body. He could already start feeling the transformation. The veins from his arms were already starting to feel warm and he knew he was bulking up with more muscles than he ever knew. Chad looked up at the window while Brad was slowly sliding his cock out of him. Only something wasn't right. Because Brad was looking back at him from outside the window, outside the room... The street light from the outside illuminated Brad's face as he gave off a sneaky smirk. Chad quickly turned behind him while a car passed by just in time to illuminate the whole room to see that a completely different person was behind him all this time. Behind him stood a small man. Short skinny and pale. He looked slightly malnourished with a less than great hairstyle and two black ear studs on his ears. The small man grinned to himself before patting his small but erected cock with cum leaking from it. The carlight quickly faded to engulf the room in darkness again. Chad attempted to feel his way around the room but with his veins filling with the warm cum he started to feel weak. He was easily pushed back onto the bed. He couldn't tell who was in the room now as his mind started to wonder and he was trying not to close his eyes. All he could hear were two voices as he helplessly struggled. "I expect payment to be made in two days time" "yea dont worry i'll get it done as soon as this is over, so how'd you get him to come anyway?" "It was easy, you gotta suck up to him and make him feel powerful. Call him sir and shit. When he's at his highest point you fuck him up like what we just did. Me leaving the room and you coming in to deposit your cum in him." "That went pretty smooth hahaha. Lube my ass ahahha. So hows his body like now?" "Way bigger than most bodybuilders man. Don't worry i choose to execute my stock only when i know they're ripe and ready for plucking" "He better be, I spent a fortune on all his supplements and shit" "Well, they paid off now. You have your dream body now man. Anyways suck his dick dry now while the pill is still in his system. The more cum you drink the better. Oh! And introduce me to your other friends who are looking to buy a body too...." Blackness engulfed Chad as he lay there on the bed feeling thick lips on the head of his erected cock. Before long he passed out from exhaustion.... A Month Later Sep 10 Lemme know your comments. How'd you feel about the characters? And let me end this story by saying "If your not paying. You are the PRODUCT"
  43. 7 points
    This is so I have a comparable start pic for my now and then much later down my road! Wish me luck!!!
  44. 6 points
    New story I've been writing and now posting on my Muscle Addicts Inc blog. It tells the tale of Mikey Maguire, who discovers he has a superpower which enables him to transform his regular sized body into a 300 lbs monstrous mass of shredded muscle, worthy of a top five Mr Olympia bodybuilder, whenever he likes! MIKEY THE HUMAN MUSCLE MORPH PART I Chapter One Mikey Maguire was twelve years old when his parents sat him down to explain how superpowers work. He listened intently with a sense of a excitement as his mother informed him that, like everyone in the Maguire family before him, and dozens of other people around the world, sometime around his eighteenth birthday he would develop a superpower that would be completely unique to him. Of course, like the rest of the world, Mikey had heard of people with superpowers before. He’d grown up being both fascinated and intrigued by stories of people whose weird and wonderful powers had bought them fame, fortune, or both, while never really knowing that, one day, he would have his own superpower too. Like most of his peers who knew of their destiny to develop a unique superpower, Mikey Maguire spent most of his teenage years wondering just what that power would be. Almost on a daily bases his imagination conjured up a new potential superpower. Would it be a relatively conventional, but still brilliant, power like the ones you see in comic books and superhero films, like the ability to fly or the ownership of superhuman strength? Perhaps he would develop the ability to read people’s thoughts, to move objects with the power of his mind or the ability to see through walls? Or would it be a quirkier power, like the many he’d heard of in the years leading up to his eighteenth birthday? Something life changing and amazing like the power of Mr Gold, who can turn any object he likes into gold? Or something completely useless like the power of The Incredible Green Man, who can turn his skin a shade of green whenever he likes? Maybe it would be something completely bonkers, but potentially a lot of fun once he started dating, like the power of The Human Orgasm, who can make people cum with a single touch? As Mikey reached his eighteenth birthday, more and more of his friends and peers discovered and developed their superpowers. His friend Cath Corrick’s mother entered her daughter’s bedroom on the morning of her birthday and was startled to find a stray tabby cat curled up on the bed, while her daughter was nowhere to be seen. She screamed with fright when the strange cat suddenly began to grow and change shape, and morphed back into her daughter before her very eyes. Cath had the power to transform herself into a domestic cat whenever she liked. A few weeks after celebrating turning eighteen, Nick Norris, who Mikey had known since primary school, had a sudden urge to walk into a shop selling musical instruments. He’d never even had a single guitar lesson before but, picking up the nearest acoustic guitar, he surprised himself and impressed the shop owner by playing a note perfect rendition of The White Stripes’ “One Nation Army”. He then sat down in front of the shop’s only grand piano and serenaded the store with “Imagine”. Nick had the power to pick up any musical instrument and, amazingly, play it perfectly without hesitation. He was quickly given the nickname The Amazing Music Man. Unfortunately not all of Mikey’s peers were impressed with their superpowers. A few months after turning eighteen, Henry Huxter arrived at school to find an angry mob confronting him. He’d apparently started a blog the night before and had publicly expressed his negative feelings towards a select few of his classmates. Henry tried to argue that he had done no such thing. So when one of his peers showed him the blog on the Internet, he was completely shocked at what he saw. Almost everything Henry had done and thought the night before had been posted on the mysterious blog, including the negative opinions of his classmates. As he read the blog, a new entry appeared, chronicling the events that were happening at that precise moment. It seemed that whatever Henry thought, felt and did was automatically posted on the blog for all the world to see. He contacted the blog server to get the site removed, but the next day, another blog exactly like the previous one appeared out of nowhere. He is now notoriously known as The Blogger in superpower circles. Mikey spent the whole of his eighteenth birthday both nervously and excitingly looking for signs that his superpower would present itself. By midnight, nothing had happened, and Mikey went to bed disappointed and annoyed. Weeks rolled by and still, Mikey’s power had not been revealed. He was starting to wonder whether his parents were wrong about him developing a power. Maybe he was one of the unfortunate few (though some with particular powers, like The Blogger, would argue with that opinion) who didn’t have a power, despite every other member of his family owning one. Perhaps he wouldn’t discover his power for years, even decades to come. He’d heard of that happening in rare cases too. After much anguish, Mikey finally started to take his mind off of his superpower. “Your power will reveal itself when the right time is right”, Mikey’s mother had told him, as she and Mr Maguire said goodbye to their only child and set off on a week long holiday, leaving Mikey home alone. Unbeknownst to Mrs Maguire, her son would, in fact, discover his power the very next day. As soon as Mikey opened his eyes that morning, he felt very peculiar indeed. Everything felt different. His bed seemed a lot smaller for a start. Still half asleep, Mikey rubbed his sleepy eyes and crawled out of bed. His feet seemed to hit the floor with an unusual thud. As he lugged himself to his bedroom door he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was strapped to each of his body parts. Something very heavy. Additionally, everything around him felt smaller. It was only when he caught sight of himself in the full length mirror next to his bedroom door that he realised why he was feeling so strange. He let out a scared yell and stepped back. Everything was smaller because he was bigger. Much, much bigger. And those heavy objects which were strapped to each body weren’t objects at all. They were his body parts. Overnight, Mikey Maguire’s perfectly ordinary, slim built, 175 lbs body had morphed into an incredible mountain of monstrous, shredded, superhuman muscle mass, worthy of a top five Mr Olympia competitor. “FUCKING HELL!”, Mikey cried out at he stared at the mass of freak-like muscle looking back at him from the mirror. He had to be at least 300 lbs. Two massive plates of thick pec muscle hung from his chest. His shoulders were the size of giant boulders, protruding either side of his torso to an immense degree. His arms had tripled in size, along with his humongous sized legs, which were carved and etched with the craziest lines. And where once sat his completely flat, un-toned stomach, were six blocks of thick, solid muscle bursting through his skin. He had muscles he never even knew existed. Everything was huge, hard, and carved to absolute perfection. His skin was smooth and paper thin all over; seemingly struggling to contain the blocks, lumps, bumps and mounds of muscle ballooning underneath the service. Mikey had never taken any sort of interest in bodybuilders before but, staring at his own alien reflection, he couldn’t help but think that he’d never seen anything so freaky, so oddly beautifully or so utterly amazing in all of his life. He was a monster. A real life, bon-a-fide muscle freak. And, strangely, he’d never felt more sexually aroused. As he admired his brand new physique in the mirror, Mikey couldn’t stop smiling. His dick was furiously jolting in his tight, white boxer shorts, like it was desperately trying to break free of the material and unload a litre of cum. He had zero knowledge of the official bodybuilding poses but, somehow, Mikey knew exactly what to do next. He threw both of his arms up and watched his biceps explode in the mirror. Huge balls of rock hard muscle mass erupted either side of his head, which was still, perfectly regular sized. The contrast between Mikey’s normal sized eighteen year old head and the two Mr Olympia stage worthy biceps it was sandwiched between was insane. As he hit a side chest pose and watched his enormous left pec explode off his chest in the reflection of his bedroom mirror, Mikey instinctively gritted his teeth, arrogantly scrunched up his face and then growled a cocky, “YEEEAH”! He had no idea where this new-found arrogance had come from. He’d never displayed even the slightest bit of cockiness in all of his eighteen years. Nor had he ever had the desire to do so. Yet, for some reason, in his new phenomenally muscular, bull-sized body, Mikey felt the overwhelming desire to be as cocky as he possibly could. Mikey continued to hit pose after pose. He still didn’t know how he knew the poses, but every one was hit perfectly, and with the precision of a professional IFBB league bodybuilder. He tensed his gigantic quads, opened up his skin splitting lats, squeezed his croquet ball shaped biceps and crunched all six of his beautifully shaped, crazily carved, splat-yer-pants worthy abs. He huffed, puffed, grunted and groaned his way through every pose, and even released the occasional, “Fuck yeah!”, at the sight of his own flexed muscle. He gritted his teeth, grinned like a lunatic and contorted his geeky but cute face into all manner of outrageous and cocky expressions, until there was only one pose left to hit. Bringing both of his arms up so his elbows were level with his shoulders blades, he threw them both down with an almighty force into a brutal crab most muscular pose. As he watched every single ginormous sized body part erupt, tense and explode before his eyes, he released a loud groan and a tsunami of spunk exploded from his cock and filled up his boxer shorts. He’d never really understood the desire to be a bodybuilder before, but now he understood it more than anyone. When he’d come down off the high of flexing his enormous sized, uber-human muscles to the point where it had made him cum without touch, a sudden panic set in for Mikey. His body was beyond incredible. Something not quite belonging to this world. A thing of immense beauty that, somehow, he knew would be worshipped and adored by countless of people (though mostly men). But what would happen next? What about his old body? And what if, and this was the thing that was suddenly scaring Mikey the most, his extreme transformation into a mass muscle monster was permanent? Mikey knew, without a doubt, that he was experiencing his superpower at work. But exactly what that power was, was still unknown to him at that point. As he pictured his parents returning from their holiday to discover their son had morphed into the type of 300 lbs muscle freak you’d only ever see on the cover of a hardcore bodybuilding magazine in WHSmith, and panicked even more, something strange began to happen. Mikey’s shoulders began to shrink. His chest started to flatten. His biceps shrunk. Every single body part deflated right before his eyes until he was back to his normal, regular sized, non-muscular self. Mikey breathed a sigh of relief. So it wasn’t permanent after all. “Thank Goodness for that”, he thought. But then another set of emotions crept in. Disappointment, sadness, and a longing. A yearning, in fact, to have his huge biceps, peeled blocky abs, and thick, line etched glutes back (he wasn’t really sure how he suddenly knew the word “glutes”). And as that very desire set in, his body began to change again. His quads became thicker. His chest began to expand. His abs started to seep through his tummy. Everything inflated and expanded before him until he was a 300 lbs muscle monster once more. “FUCK YEAH!”, he cried in response, then belted out another hard, low down, crab most muscular. Once again, his dick released thick ropes of cum and splattered his bedroom mirror in response. “Damn!”, he thought, “I really must try and get this ‘busting my nut every time I crank out a most muscular’ thing under control”, as he wiped the spunk off his mirror and bounced his bulbous pecs in his reflection at the same time. Mikey Maguire had finally discovered his superpower. He could transform his regular sized body into a huge, hulking mass of muscle, worthy of professional bodybuilder status, whenever he liked. He wouldn’t be christened with his superpower nickname until a few years later, but that day, Mikey became The Human Muscle Morph.
  45. 6 points
    Instead of working, I wrote this. The perspective changed, so hope it works. Yeah, I didn't realize I had a violent streak in me like this... --- All the Dothraki soldier knew was this…beast? god? white sorcerer man who grew? beast man, or rhoa mahrazh?...was that small, albeit muscular, pale man who came to see the Khaleesi and ask for permission to do something on the island. He had known that Khaleesi was the Mother of Dragons – he recalled seeing the burning of Khal Drogo and her emergence, unscathed, with the three young dragon hatchlings. Nothing like that had ever been seen before by the Dothraki. But this man had come to her, and did not show her the respect she deserved…yet, here he was now, three or four times the man he once was… Through his training, the Dothraki know two things: they were to be the most powerful around, or they would die. They were trained to fear no one or no thing. Although he saw this mountain of a man before him should bring fear…and he did…the soldier knew that he should fight and win instead of being conquered. That was why he fought against this beast, twice, just to be thwarted both times. Being bested so easily made him very uneasy, and seeing what this monster did with his cock to his fellow Dothraki, he knew that his death was coming for him. He will shortly be joining the mighty khalassar, hopefully to ride through the skies throughout the rest of eternity. The rhoa mahrazh before him closed his eyes, as though he was focusing on, well, something…although it was hard to say, this western common tongue was so rough and used too many words to express the simplest of thought. The Dothraki noticed that the large penis, which was the height of the his own legs, had started to shrink – he was not as excited as he once was? What sort of man loses his excitement after killing another man, especially when the victory was so one sided? This was just a strange thing to witness. Slowly the rhoa mahrazh opened his eyes, looking down upon the Dothraki. They were dark, cold, and full of anger…yet, a fiery anger. He had seen such fire in the eyes of the Khaleesi before she would unleash her fury upon a group of men who deserved death. The pale skin of the beast started to become various colors, like a mixing of horses in the khalassar, reds like the blood of slain men and white like the sands upon which the Dothraki rode. The man’s gaze started to look further and further down upon him—was he sliding down the wall? No. He could not feel his back moving, even though the giant paw of the man kept pushing against his mighty chest…the chest he once thought was mighty…. No, the rhoa mahrazh was growing – again! Due to the silence of the hall, the Dothraki could hear the muscles tearing and forming, the skin stretching, the bones popping and reforming, as he became even more of a beast of ancient story. The muscles grew into grotesque displays of raw power, covering themselves with sinew and pulsed with power. Even though his feet were slightly off the floor, the Dothraki found himself staring even with the nipples of this rhoa mahrazh, which of which was the size of his flaccid penis… …oh, gods, the Dothraki’s penis was starting to lust for this beast. It was forbidden to lay with another man, let alone to think thoughts of sex about another, but clearly what stood before him was no man. The Dothraki’s ample cock – he had pleased many women and impregnated many more who initially fought against his power – had pushed his loincloth out of the way, showing his power and might towards the knee of the monster. The monster looked down further, noticing the tiny cock, and smiled. “So, that’s the way you want to go? I’ll let you die that way, since I am generous.” The Dothraki didn’t understand those words, but the deep, reverberating voice made his cock pulse even more, spilling precum out and down his long, thick cock. The rhoa mahrazh stepped over the Dothraki, both hands holding him like a toy, and allowed the Dothraki’s monster…well, in comparison, child’s toy…cock up near the monster’s ass. The Dothraki’s cock was pulsing, swelling and changing colors due to the pleasure that it knew it was soon to enjoy. The soldier himself was sweating, unable to control his own body spasming at the thought of being so manhandled and getting to breed such a stallion. “In you go, boy,” the rhoa mahrazh mused. “You cum when I command you.” The cock was pushed easily into the monster’s ass. It felt unlike anything he’d fucked before. It was so…big?....that it made his own prodigious dick feel small, as he was not filling the entire space. The monster was not moaning or screaming in pleasure, like the others he’s filled to overflowing abundance. But there was a warmth and coolness to being in that space that could not be described. The monster pushed him in and pulled him out a few times, driving the Dothraki to orgasm at the mere motion and feeling of warmth…but not because he felt any frictional pressure. It was almost as though the presence of this beast was enough to trigger his primal urge to rape, breed, kill, eat, repeat. A slow, rumbling roar started to eminate from the rhoa mahrazh’s core. The soldier remained as painfully erect as possible, even after unloading his copious seed into the monster. “You did not listen to me, ant. I knew you were too stupid to know better.” Immediately, pain shot throughout the Dothraki soldier’s body. The monster had clenched his asshole, tighter than anything possibly could, and clamped down on the soldier’s swollen cock. Although horrifyingly painful, the sensation of such power was beyond his imagination, and he started to pump out more cum…even though nothing left his penis. It was crushed due to the incredible ass musculature of the rhoa mahrazh. The monster pushed the soldier down, ripping his penis from his body. Cum and blood poured from the wound, unleashing a scream more terrible than any of the two previous sex victims of the monster. Looking down, the white man shit out the soldier’s once prized cock…looking pathetically small even next to the toes of the monster. “And now, you will die. Perhaps I will give you pleasure first?” Confused, in pain, and still orgasming, two large hands picked him up, holding him in the air as though a baby held by its mother. One hand left his torso, and the soldier then felt a rigid yet soft, warm yet freezing cold piece of flesh push against this ass from under the loincloth. Immediately he started to realize that the width of this flesh was as thick as one of his own ass cheeks, which was somehow insanely erotic and mind numbingly terrifying simultaneously. The rhoa mahrazh’s hand slid up and over the large piece of flesh, and inserted one of his thick fingers into the Dothraki asshole. The soldier screamed at the sudden, deep and thick penetration. Another finger joined, and another. Screams echoed throughout the hall, and no one was there to answer. Or, if others heard, they didn’t dare come to see what was causing the pain and pleasure shrieks. The monster used his fingers to reach inside, deep, and find the Dothraki pleasure bump, the one where when pressed made his seed pour forth in a far more copious amount. Without much noise, the Dothraki soldier fell into yet another orgasm, clearish cum pouring out of his dick stump. Immediately after, the three fingers spread his asshole as wide as he felt it possibly could go, and the large piece of cock flesh was slowly inserted. But only the tip. His vision became fuzzy due to the amount of pleasure and pain pulsing through the pathetic man’s body… “And, now, I will see what you are really made of, horse slut,” the rhoa mahrazh sneered. Even though it was soft, it felt as though a khalassar had to move its entire number through a narrow opening all at once. It was too much to comprehend at once. Through brutal force the monster was pushing this piece of man flesh into an opening not mean to house it. The low rumble coming from the rhoa mahrazh’s mountain of a chest must have meant he found it pleasurable, because this was the tightest fit possible. More fingers forced their way into the Dorthraki ass, pulling him open. He felt as though he was actually being torn apart, the pain felt unbelievable. More of the cock head was slowly maneurvered into the pathetically small soldier asshole, being stretched and possibly torn as nothing else could. The Dothraki was finally understanding why those women screamed when he penetrated them: such a large piece of man flesh entering into such a small, delicate opening was no normal feat of strength and fit, but it occurred through careful and forceful thrusting. In this case, it was the rhoa mahrazh’s brute strength forcing a soft cock the size of a leg into him – or, terrifyingly, just the bulbous head. Through subtle gimpses of the world around him through flashes of pain and orgasm, the Dothraki saw the inhuman skull of the pale man, the rhoa mahrazh, the beast monster, the muscled mountain, the walking sex, looking deep into his own eyes. They were filled with lust and revenge, still, along with frustration. The penis head was not quite in yet, but he kept gently pushing the still soft snake into the pathetically small and weak Dothraki soldier. With a final grunt, the monster thrust the entire head into the Dothraki ass – and the soldier’s vision and voice came back. The piercing shriek that emanated from the man’s mouth resembled that of the Night King, which brought about a sense of fear and anger in the white man’s eyes that the Dothraki had not necessarily anticipated. The pain and simultaneous erotic joy he felt was too much to comprehend at the same time, and all the horselord could do was realize that he had to focus on the pleasure before his impending death. Would he be dismembered? Would he be decapitated? How would his death happen? “You’re a tight little fucker, ain’t you, horse bitch? Time to breed you.” The monster started to close his eyes, and his skin started to change color again. His height nearly touched the ceiling of the hallway, his arms capable of wrapping around the massive stone pillars that periodically held up the portion of the fortress. This chest was wider than two or three of the largest Dothraki riders. His legs appeared stronger than a team of horses. His testicles, swelling no doubt with man seed, dangled halfway down his thighs, appearing like large water chambers the soldier once saw in Vaes Dothrak, the Dothraki “city” on their continent. Pain once again washed over the soldier; he knew that the rhoa mahrazh was becoming excited. Since the cock head was so much wider than the rest of the beast’s shaft, he felt as though a leg was being slowly inserted up his body, except that the leg was growing thicker as it grew longer. Most of the ever thickening cock was still outside of the soldier, but he could feel it under his belly, and a strange sensation of being ripped apart from the inside. It hurt unlike anything he had experienced, including the loss of his cock, but the sensation was so pleasurable he wanted to continue to feel it. Bravely the Dothraki soldier, as it were, raised his arms, shaking uncontrollably, and reached to the mighty chest of the rhoa mahrazh. He found the nipples, as thick and long as his once soft cock, when it was his cock, and started to masturbate them. The beast monster immediately moaned, reflexively contracting those mighty abs and pushing at least another large portion of his cock into the Dothraki. The heart of the Dothraki felt it being pushed, and his ability to breathe was becoming even more difficult, almost as though he was given a large, strong hug from within his own body. Looking down he saw the large shape of a cock, almost as wide has his torso, extending well below his ass to the monster’s body, pushing up into his own chest. “Die, now.” With one slow, agonizing, pleasurable, horrifying move, the monster pulled the cock out of his body – it was still growing thicker – until only the head was left inside, and the rhoa mahrazh drove the even thicker and still growing cock back in. It was expanding so quickly that the hips of the Dothraki soldier split open, the crack almost as loud as the man’s screams. The friction of the monster pushing apart every organ in the soldier’s body, causing unimaginable damage and bleeding internally… cock head… against… heart… feels strange… maybe… not… pulse… swelling… pressure…joy…. -- Jon looked down to the Dothraki ant, his monstrous cock, probably rivaling that of the northern giants, filling the torso of this pathetic ma—boy, splitting him in half and shoving his cock into the ant’s throat, dying before him. How dare he even pretend to stop Jon Snow, the King of the North? Perhaps he should have a change of heart, and maybe he would do what others tempted him to do, to become the One Who Sits Upon the Iron Throne? Eh. Too easy to do. He has white walkers to kill. But, first, this pathetic ant, covering his cock like a sleeve, dying slowly due to his internal bleeding, needed to be pulled off. Reaching down, feeling for the bottom half of his cock, he grasped it as much as he could with two hands, and made love with his hands. The more he squeezed, the more pleasurable it felt, feeling something as powerful as Jon Snow trying to hurt something as powerful as Jon Snow’s cock…it was too much. Pulse after pulse pushed from his dangling watermelon sized balls, coursing through his abdomen, and generating waves of pressure and pleasure up and through his cock. He felt his seed filling the Dothraki ant, as though a child filling the intestine of a goat with water, hoping to make it pop. Shot after shot filled the ant, making him swell up as though he made poor Sam seem like a slender twig of a boy, with shot after shot continuing into the corpse started to leak seed from the nose, eyes, (more pulses of seed) ears, mouth, (more pulses of seed); his skin started to form stretch marks, possibly unable to contain the pressure from within (more pulses of seed), until eventually the ant exploded. His cock, extending more than an arm’s length away from Jon’s body, kept pulsing blast after blast of his thick man seed as the hall was scattered with blood, seed, bones, shit, and other pieces of body part. After several minutes, the pulses stopped. His cock softened, reaching somewhere below his knees. Jon was covered in fluids, some of his own, some of the Dothraki, but he needed to take a swim. Perhaps he could convince the others to fetch his dragon glass while he took a swim to find this Euron, the man who made his plans upset? Reek needed to survive the punishment that Jon would give him. Euron, as Reek’s uncle, could take some of the sin of the nephew
  46. 6 points
    Here you guys. I tried making it as a gif. I'll update it when i can find one that makes a smoother transition gif. I also made one in reverse too.
  47. 6 points
    What an amazing morph! Combined with these two, it's almost like a series of progress images! And would probably do really well as a gif. Stage 1 Stage 2 Stage 3
  48. 6 points
    Previously: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/12823-the-giant-football-coach-chapter-5/?tab=comments#comment-149397 Sorry for the slow continuation, summer is a busy time! Chapter 6: The Press The next morning my buddies and I gathered with interest around our computers to watch Coach's first press conference since he grew to gigantic proportions. Normally these pre-game press conferences were fairly bland. Lot's of boring discussion full of coach-speak on how we will stop our opponent's offense and break through their defense, along with updates on the health of the players. However, obviously today would be very different. The live stream cut in and loud buzz could be heard. Obviously there were far more reporters there than usual as word had leaked out that something extraordinary had happened to our captain. Instead of taking place in the media room in the athletic offices, in which Coach would obviously not fit, the feed kicked on showing the field house. In the background I could make out Coach's living corner, complete with crude, gigantic wooden benches and a bunch of mattresses spread out on the ground. After a couple of minutes the Dean walked up to the podium and began speaking. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us. As many of you know, there was an accident on campus earlier this week in the physic lab. Thankfully there were no major injuries but one of our staff was affected by the incident. As I'm sure many of you heard that person was our beloved Coach Wood. I can assure everyone that Mr. Wood is in fine condition...” the Dean paused before continuing “...in fact, he may be in better condition than anyone. Before we bring him in to speak with you I have invited the head of the physics department, Dr. Phillip Martin, to explain the situation in more detail. Dr. Martin if you would.” Dr. Martin made his way up to the podium and explained what happened to the best of his knowledge. He started off explaining how a crossed electrical wire sparked a small fire and an explosion. He continued explaining, “...during the small explosion which severely damaged much of our equipment, our prototype ionic photon accelerator beam escaped containment. The beam itself is invisible to the naked eye and so Mr. Wood unknowingly stumbled into the path of the beam as he was rushing to our aid after the explosion. I witnessed Mr. Wood fall to the floor unconsciously as soon as he cross into the beam. Thankfully we were able to shutdown the beam immediately and administer to Mr. Wood. He regained consciousness very quickly and seemed to be fine. As you all know he was taken to the hospital as a precaution. Several reporters' hands flew up and they began to shout questions. “What were the effects of the energy beam?” “Is Mr. Wood going to be able to coach the team on Saturday?” “Is there any danger to any of the players?” Dr. Martin raised his arms to indicate he was requesting silence. Once the room had settled enough Dr. Martin spoke again, “The Dean has only brought me here to discuss the accident. I will answer your questions as best as I can. As far as I can tell there is no imminent danger to Mr. Wood or his players. The effects of the energy beam were...extraordinary. We would have surmised that the the energy beam contacting most humans would have been fatal, yet it seems Mr. Woods' body was able to absorb the energy and convert it into normal human tissues. I surmise it was because of Coach Woods' exemplary physical development and strength that he was able to not only withstand the bombardment of energy particles but be able to make use that energy.” Once again the crowd of reporters erupted raising their hands and shouting out questions. “How was Mr. Wood able to use the energy?” “Is the physical threat to Mr. Wood over?” “Please, Mr. Martin, we have reports that Mr. Wood has grown to double his size. Is that true?” Dr. Martin looked over at the Dean who then nodded back to him. “Well, ladies and gentlemen perhaps its best if we allow you to speak with Coach Wood directly. Dr. Martin turned around and looked back toward the garage door at the end of the field house. A roaring silence emanated from the anxious crowd as the camera panned the side to frame the 40 ft. garage door. And then it happened. A titanic figured appeared behind the door, almost as wide as the opening itself and obviously taller. Coach ducked slightly down, his handsome grinning face blessing the crowd of reporter ahead and far, far below him. Gasps and whispers erupted from those in attendance. Coached ducked, stepped through the down and rose up to his full, proud 50 ft. height. He was wearing a huge blue tank top, obviously the theatre costume department had been able to whip something together for him. Even so, there has no hiding his overdeveloped musculature. Technically, the tank would pass as a shirt, but his pecs were so wide his nipples extended past the fabric and were exposed. About the only thing the giant loose tank hid were his rock hard abs. It reminded me of one of those stringer tanks you sometimes see the pro-bodybuilders wearing. And truthfully that's what our football coach looked like: A colossal, off-season, un-shaven professional bodybuilder. His shorts, socks, shoes, baseball cap and whistle still were holding strong, having grown with him. I suspected he wanted to keep these items on as much as he could in case he grew again. Coach continued to smirk down at the awestruck crowd as he slowly sauntered forward. Even on camera I noticed a handful the reporters get up and walk away and he walked toward them, obviously fearing the brutish giant. Coach reached the podium and stood there, letting the crowd and the world take him in, knowing his masculine superiority could never be more evident. Eventually he spoke. “I WOULD CROUCH DOWN AND USE THE MICROPHONE BUT I'M SURE YOU CAN ALL HERE ME JUST FINE WITH MY BOOMING VOICE.” He joked, but could still sense the tension in among the crowd. “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, LET ME ASSURE YOU THAT YOU HAVE NOTHING TO FEAR. I KNOW I WILL HAVE TO BE CAREFUL AT TIMES BUT I HAVE NO INTENTION OF HURTING ANYBODY. I'M STILL THE SAME 'OLE BALL COACH YOU HAVE INTERVIEWED BEFORE, I'M JUST BIGGER,” Coach chuckled and quickly brought up his naked arms into a quick biceps pose. “I DO APOLOGIZE FOR BEING A BIG UNDER DRESSED. IT'S A GOOD THING I'VE GOT NOTHING TO BE ASHAMED OF, BECAUSE AS YOU CAN GUESS CLOTHING HAS BECOME A PROBLEM.” Coach grinned down at crowed again, “NOT TO SOUND ARROGANT BUT I DON'T THINK ANYBODY WILL HAVE A PROBLEM WITH ME SHOWING SOME SKIN EITHER, HEH HEH.” He then crouched down gave the crowd a quick crab pose, all this muscles exploding in sinewy vascularity. He relaxed the pose, smiled warmly and spoke, "WELL DON'T BE SHY, THIS IS A PRESS CONFERENCE. FEEL FREE TO ASK QUESTIONS." Finally the crowd began to relax and began to engage him. “Are you still growing?” one reporter asked. Coach glanced down at Dr. Martin and shrugged his massive shoulders. Dr. Martin stepped up to the podium right in front of the coach. The camera zoomed in to Dr. Martin as he spoke who was completely dwarfed by two muscular calf muscles flanking him on each side. “I'm strictly working off of conjecture here, but I believe the beam that struck Mr. Wood altered his physiology to be able to absorb energy from outside sources rather than simply ingesting sustenance, or eating and drinking. I believe Coach Wood's growth has been contingent on the amount of energy his body has absorbed. He grown twice now, first to approximately 25 ft and now to nearly 50 ft.” Gasps again erupted from the crowd as they learned Coach's staggering height. The doc continued, “Coach grew during the end of his football practices. From what I understand he was shirtless both times. Since it was been especially hot this week, I believe Coach Wood's body was able to absorb energy from the sun's rays. When he exercised via push-ups at the end of the practice after soaking in the sun's energy, that extra internal effort was the catalyst for the energy to be transformed into bodily mass, thus causing him to grow.” “But is Mr. Wood still growing!!” one of the reporters jumped up and repeated. “The good new is that every time Mr. Wood grows he will then require more energy for that growth to manifest itself again. Based on the square-cube law and my calculations, Coach Wood has grown so much that he would have to lay outside and bathe in the sun for four to six days straight to absorb enough energy to grow again.” A relieved sigh could be heard from the collective crowd. The camera had zoomed out again to capture most of the coach in view, and he clearly smirked when the crowd learned it was unlikely he would get bigger. “It would take a tremendous amount of energy for Mr. Wood to grow again. He will continue to absorb energy from the sun and various microwaves that permeate our existence but are invisible to the naked eye, but the majority of that energy he will expel through normal activity.” Coach then looked down and added, “ALTHOUGH, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, DR. MARTIN AND I BELIEVE SOME OF THAT ENERGY IS STILL BEING TRANSFORMED INTO BODILY MASS. I KNOW MY BODY VERY WELL AND I CAN TELL THAT I AM SLIGHTLY MORE MUSCULAR SINCE I'VE STARTED GROWING.” To demonstrate, Coach looked down at his legs, pointed his feet outward and FLEXED his quads, filling his shorts to the bursting point with giant, dense leg muscle. “THESE SHORTS WERE SLIGHTLY LOOSE A COUPLE OF DAYS AGO, AND NOW MY LEG MUSCLES ARE ABOUT TO TEAR THEM OFF. LOOK AT THE SIZE OF MY LEG MUSCLES!” Coach cockily grinned and scanned the awestruck crowd who were staring at his freaky legs causing the shorts fabric to be taught, which had the double effect of accentuating his bulge. The female reporters swooned and the men had never felt so insignificant and out-manned in their lives. Coach then stood back up to his full height and brought one arm up into a triumphant single biceps pose. He smiled at the enormous ball of muscle peaking toward the ceiling. “I KNOW MY BICEPS WERE ALREADY MASSIVE, EVEN WHEN I WAS A SHORT GUY AT JUST 6 FT 6, BUT I CAN TELL MY ARMS ARE JUST SLIGHTLY BIGGER, MORE DEFINED AND HARDER!” Coach reached his opposite hand up and proudly rubbed the inhuman ball of muscle, grinning happily the whole time. “Where did you find clothes to fit your giant frame, Mr. Wood!?” another male reporter shouted up to him from far below. Coach relaxed his pose and made eye contact with the reporter. “WE'VE DISCOVERED THAT MY CLOTHES ONLY GROW WITH ME WHEN I'M WEARING THEM, SO I SHOULD PROBABLY STOP FLEXING MY MASSIVE THIGHS TO KEEP THESE SHORTS INTACT AS LONG AS POSSIBLE. I ALREADY LOST MY SHIRT, BUT THE THEATRE DEPARTMENT HAS STEPPED UP AND CREATED THIS TINY TANK TOP FOR ME. WE SINCERELY APPRECIATE THEIR EFFORTS IN HELPING KEEP ME CLOTHED." Dr. Martin spoke into the microphone once again. “We aren't completely sure the mechanisms for why the Coach's clothes grew with him. Perhaps the close proximity or even his sweat permeating his clothes is what allowed them to grow as well. Frankly, this is completely uncharted territory and we are very much learning as we go. Thankfully Coach Wood has been very cooperative in letting us monitor him.” “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I KNOW WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME IS SPECTACULAR, BUT LET'S TRY TO REMEMBER THERE IS A FOOTBALL GAME ON SATURDAY,” he spoke, now trying to steer the conversation toward the team. It was a valiant effort, but I suspected it wouldn't last long. A few the area sports reporters were able to refocus and began asking the normal questions on the health of the team. Such as which players to watch for, who's injured, etc. I was thrilled when he mentioned me, “I THINK EVERYONE IS GOING TO BE SURPRISED BY MASON JACKSON, A FRESHMEN CORNERBACK. I THINK HE'S GOING TO BE VERY SPECIAL IN THE YEARS TO COME, POTENTIALLY EVEN AND NFL PLAYER.” I was floored when he said this, did I really have that much potential? Soon another reporter asked, “Mr. Wood, will you be coaching from the sideline this weekend?” “OF COURSE I WILL, WHY WOULDN'T I?” The little reporter seems to shirk in fear at seemingly being rebuked. He added, “Well, Sir, I was just wondering if you still even fit in the coach's box on the side of the field and I-” He stammered before smiled and cut him off. “OH YES I SEE. YES, LITTLE MAN, I WILL BE ABLE TO FIT IN THE COACH'S BOX. ALSO, WE HAVE VERIFIED WITH THE NCAA THAT I WILL NOT BE BREAKING ANY RULES BY BEING SO...MASSIVE. IN FACT IT WILL BE A BIT OF HINDRANCE FOR OUR TEAM. MY VOICE IS SO LOUD AND BOOMING IT WILL BE DIFFICULT TO COMMUNICATE WITHOUT ALLOWING THE OPPOSING COACHES TO HEAR. THANKFULLY, WE DO USE MANY HAND SIGNALS. BUT, OUR AUDIO DEPARTMENT IS ALSO WORKING ON A MICROPHONE THAT I CAN WEAR AND WHISPER INTO.” Coach then looked right at the tiny camera at the back of the room and addressed the team's fans. “I'M ASKING OUR FANS TO BE LOUDER THAN EVER TO HELP MASK MY CONVERSATIONS WITH MY FELLOW COACHES AND PLAYERS! HELP US OUT, BRUTE NATION!” Coach punctuated this statement with a colossal most-muscular pose, filling the frame of the camera shot with huge manly muscle. “I DO FEEL SORRY FOR THE FANS WHO HAVE SEATS BEING ME. MY ENORMOUSLY WIDE BACK MUSCLES ARE PROBABLY GOING TO BLOCK MUCH OF THE VIEW OF THE FIELD. I WILL TRY TO STAND IN DIFFERENT LOCATIONS DURING THE GAME IN AN EFFORT TO ALLOW EVERYONE BEING TO SEE AS MUCH OF THE GAME AS THEY CAN.” Of course this action once again steered the questions toward Coach's development. Another reporter, whom I instantly recognized as the weaselly man from the Channel 11 news, the one who had been bothering me and my teammates, Chet Howard, spoke up, “Just how strong are you, Mr. Wood. Do you think you might be a danger to society?” Coach spotted the little man who asked him the question. He had his hands on his hips in a powerful relaxed pose. The side of his mouth curled up into a half grin. “I WILL NOT BE A PROBLEM, BUT I WILL DEFEND MYSELF AND MY PLAYERS. BUT, TELL YOU WHAT, MR. HOWARD, WHY DON'T YOU FOLLOW ME OUTSIDE AND I'LL WILL SHOW YOU HOW POWERFUL I AM.” Coach then stepped around the podium and slowly sauntered to the opposite end of the field house. I noticed a reporter near the edge of he crowd, close to where Coach was walking, shifting nervously in his chair as our captain's massive sneakers planted on the ground next to him. The camera shifted over to view Coach Wood smirking down across his shoulder at the nervous crowd far below. Once he had passed the crowd and was out of the view the reporters themselves then got up and followed after him. The camera field we were watching was suddenly cut off. My roommate flipped on the local Channel 11 news who also had a live feed running via a shoulder-mounted camera, so we began watching that. The camera turned on to see coach bending over to step outside on the end of he field house that faced the street. The man holding the camera followed and stepped outside into the bright air. Once it had refocused we saw Coach standing on the grass between the field house and the street lined with news vans with his hands on his hips, watching as his little subjects stream outside to watch the events unfold. “I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN A STRONG MAN, BUT NOW I'D WOULD SAY THAT IS THE UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE YEAR, DON'T YOU ALL THINK?” Our leader surveyed the intrigued and nervous crowd below. He picked out and pointed to a reporter. A beautiful, blonde, busty woman that I recognized from the Channel 13 news. “YOU. MS. KING OF 13 NEWS...” Coach winked at her and I suspected that he had previously fooled around with, probably often based on how gorgeous she was. “...WOULD YOU MIND HELPING ME DEMONSTRATE MY STRENGTH?” Vanessa King, the lead reporter at Channel 13, looked around nervously. She was biting her lip, obviously conflicted between her fear and intense lust she was feeling for the sexiest, biggest man on the planet. I wondered if she was also nervous that others might find out that she and coach had been together and jeopardizing her journalistic integrity. Perhaps, though, that was why coach picked her out because he knew she would trust him. She looked up at Coach Wood's hot masculine face, composed herself and stepped forward, standing barely shin high to the huge muscle man in front of her. “Sure, Mr. Wood. How may I help you?” Coach grinned, leaned forward and squatted down. “MISS, IF YOU DON'T MIND I AM GOING TO PICK YOU UP WITH ONE HAND. I PROMISE I WILL BE GENTLE.” I imagine Coach had told her that before in the bedroom before plowing her with the biggest cock she would ever have. Vanessa lifted her arms and Coach reached forward and wrapped his thigh-sized fingers around her torso and slowly lifted her into the air and stood up to chest level. “AND YOU ARE LIGHT AS A FEATHER TO ME, MS. KING. I CAN SEE YOU LOOK NERVOUS.” Coach then softened his voice as much as he could and spoke directly to her, “THERE IS NO REASON TO BE NERVOUS, VANESSA. YOU ARE IN THE SAFEST HANDS IN THE WORLD. WITH ME PROTECTING YOU, NOTHING BAD COULD HAPPEN TO YOUR RIGHT NOW.” With Coach lowering his voice his words came even more sultrily and sexily than anyone could imagine. There was an audible female groan from the other reporters and they absorbed his low rumbling, protective words. Any of the other female reporters would've given anything to switch places with Vanessa King at that moment. Vanessa was breathing heavily but it wasn't from fear so much as lust. Coach knew the effect he had on women and he smirked sexily down at the tiny voluptuous woman in his hand. “AS YOU CAN SEE, I AM MUCH STRONGER AND MORE POWERFUL AND THAN ANY OTHER HUMAN ON THE PLANET, AND IT'S NOT EVEN CLOSE.” Coach flexed his biceps with his opposite arm and the enormous split peak erupted upwards, stretching his skin. “WOULD YOU LIKE COP A FEEL, MA'AM?” Vanessa eyeballed the biceps muscle up and to her left. A muscle so big she could practically live inside it. “Um...yes, sure Coach Wood,” she replied. “OK. JUST REMEMBER I WON'T LET ANYTHING HAPPEN TO YOU.” Coach then raised up the excited reporter and set her down on his biceps! She sat with her butt on the peak and her legs dangling over toward the front. “SEE! I AM SO BIG AND MUSCULAR THAT YOU HAVE PLENTY OF SPACE UP THERE, MISS!” “Oh my, yes, Mr. Wood. You are certainly an impressive man. Your biceps feel like warm stone underneath me!” We could see that Ms. King was shivering, either from excitement, lust, or a fear of heights, possibly all three. “OK, THANK YOU MS. WOOD. I WILL SET YOU BACK DOWN NOW. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR HELPING ME.” “Oh, it was my utmost pleasure!” Vanessa replied excitedly as Coach gently grabbed and set her back on the ground. “SINCE THAT WAS SO, EASY, I DON'T THINK THAT WAS THE BEST DISPLAY HOW TRULY STRONG I AM.” Coach then turned and stepped over toward the street, leaned down and gingerly picked up a news van! He put one hand on the front and one on the back and lifted it up to chest level. We could see was the Action 5 news van. The crowd gasped at his display of power. “AND MAKE NO MISTAKE, THIS LITTLE VEHICLE HERE IS LIGHT. IT FEELS LIKE I'M LIFTING UP A TOASTER. IN FACT WATCH THIS.” Coach then shifted one hand under the van and rested the toy-like vehicle on this palm. He was holding it now with just one hand! While it was still light for him, the weight of the van caused the sinews of his deltoid to erupt in further relief, Meanwhile, he grinned cockily and brought is free hand up into a single-arm biceps pose. The awestruck reporters were beside themselves. “DOES THIS GIVE YOU LITTLE PEOPLE SOME IDEA OF HOW POWERFUL I AM. LOOK AT THIS. LOOK AT MY ENORMOUS BICEPS MUSCLE AND AS I HOLD ONE OF YOUR TINY VEHICLES IN MY OTHER HAND!” Coach then began raising and lowering the news van up and down above his shoulder as if it was a light dumbbell. “I COULDN'T EVEN GET MUCH OF PUMP FROM LIFTING THIS SMALL VAN, HAHA,” Coach chuckled. “DOES THAT ANSWER YOUR QUESTION OF HOW POWERFUL I AM, CHET?” Coach glared at Mr. Howard, who gulped at being spotted and addressed once again. I then noticed, even through the camera feed, what seemed to be an evil glint in Coach's eye. He motioned to set the Action 5 news van back down, next to Chet's Channel 11 news van. As he stepped over to the street, vehicle in hand, Coach kept his eyes on Chet and spoke. “I WANT TO THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING OUT TO DISCUSS THE RECENT DEVELOPMENTS WITH MYSELF AND THE TEAM...” Coach spoke, eyes still locked on the Chet, not watching where we was stepping. Then it happened. As he stepped over the empty car space his foot came crashing down on the Channel 11 news van! The sneaker easily crumpled the roof of the van down to its chassis. As more of Coach's muscular weight bore down the tires popped and gave way as more the metallic vehicle was smashed to the street. A horrendous sound of broken glass and twisting metal pierced the warm summer afternoon. Some in the crowd shrieked. Coach quickly lifted his foot up and metalic debris fell from the treads of his sneakers. He set his foot back down on the grass. He quickly then set down the un-damaged Action 5 van. “OH MY GOODNESS, I AM SO SORRY. I GUESS I SHOULD'VE BEEN WATCHING WHERE I STEP. WHEN YOU ARE A HUGE MUSCULAR GIANT LIKE MYSELF I GUESS I WILL HAVE TO BE MORE CAREFUL AROUND YOU TINY PEOPLE AND YOUR TOYS!” Coach found Chet again in the nervous crowd and addressed him, with a slight sneer. “I AM SO SORRY MR. HOWARD. YOU CAN SPEAK WITH DEAN WHO WILL REIMBURSE YOU FOR THE DAMAGES. I DOUBT YOUR INSURANCE COVERS YOUR CAR GETTING STEPPED ON BY A GIGANTIC FOOTBALL COACH, HAHA!” Chet nervously nodded his head up to the giant masculine man. We all knew it and few in the crowd who new of Chet's methods did as well, but Coach was clearly punishing Chet for bothering his players. All reporters made instant notes not to cross Coach or his players. “WELL THANK YOU ALL FOR COMING.” Coach's face and tone then turned stern. “NOW, I HAVE TO ASK THAT YOU ALL LEAVE MY PLAYERS ALONE. WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME HAS LITTLE TO DO WITH THEM. DO NOT BOTHER MY PLAYERS, THEY NEED TO FOCUS ON SCHOOL AND OUR UPCOMING GAME. IF YOU WANT TO SPEAK WITH ME MORE YOU CAN TALK TO THE DEAN AND MAYBE WE CAN SET UP SOME INTERVIEWS.” The crowd of reporters then erupted again, shouting out questions at the titanic man. Coach simply smiled warmly and raised his hands to quite the crowd, which instantly complied. “THANK YOU ALL AGAIN. I HOPE YOU WILL COME OUT TO CHEER ON OUR TEAM AT OUR GAME ON SATURDAY.” Coach then stepped around the group of action figure sized people, leaned over into the field house and shut the garage door. The feed cut off and we wondered where things would go from there.
  49. 6 points
    Before Mikey could question the man any further, something in the far left corner of the pump room suddenly caught his eye. Two men were standing in conversation. One completely clothed, the other half naked, with his top off. Only the shirtless man was not a bodybuilder. He was slim, with very little muscle definition. Even slimmer than Mikey was in his regular body in fact. “Do you think that guy is competing too?”, Mikey asked, directing everyone’s attention to the shirtless man and his friend. At that moment, the man unzipped his jeans and pulled them down his non muscular thighs to reveal a pair of bright orange, super shiny posing trunks. “Looks like it”, Pete said. “Wait!”, Shaun suddenly said. “Pete mate - you don’t think that’s...”, he paused, “it bloody is isn’t it”? There was a sense of urgency and excitement in Shaun’s voice, and Pete was looking excited too. “I’ve never seen him in his normal body before”, Pete responded. “FUCK”! “What is it guys?”, Mikey asked. “What’s his superpower”? Mikey was curious, but also felt an unexpected twinge of jealousy that his friend Pete was getting excited about a regular sized man with the supposed power to turn himself into a bodybuilder. Would it be better than his superpower? “You’re about to see for yourself Mikey mate”, Shaun said. The almost naked, posing trunk sporting man’s friend was now playing with some kind of equipment. It looked like an exceptionally large bicycle pump. He took the lead and walked towards his friend. From guys with twenty four packs to men so vascular their bodies doubled up as road maps, Mikey had some seen very bizarre scenes that day. But none more so than the scene he was about to witness. Mikey’s soon to be fellow competitor now had his back to his friend, who, with the bicycle pump lead in one hand, was fiddling with the back of his shiny orange posing trunks with the other. It took Mikey a while to realise exactly what was happening. “Ouch”, Shaun said. “That can’t be comfortable”. The soon-to-be-bodybuilder’s friend was walking back to the bicycle pump. The lead sticking out of his friends’ posers, as he stood hunched over with his non-muscular ass in the air. Had he just stuck the end of the lead up his mate’s bottom? With considerable effort, the competitor’s friend was continuously stepping on the pedal of the pump, his right leg moving up and down, as if to blow up the tyre of a bicycle pump, or another inflatable object. Only there was no such object in sight. Something else was being blown up instead. The ass of Mikey’s fellow competitor seemed to be the first thing to blow up. As his friend continued to step on the peddle, his arse cheeks grew and filled out his orange posers until the otherwise slim man suddenly owned the thick glutes of a professional bodybuilder. Then the man’s thighs began to grow. Then his calves doubled in size. Mikey watched as every single body part erupted and expanded, much like his own body morphed when his superpower was in force. Only this man’s transformation was a lot slower, and each body part seemed to be growing one by one. After two huge tits had appeared where his once flat chest was, and six thick abs had popped through his tummy, one by one, finally, a set of bull like traps erupted either side of his neck, until the man, who not a few minutes before, was the smallest, least muscular guy in the room, was soon a full on, excessively sized, crazily conditioned muscle monster. Every muscle on the man’s physique seemed to have a round, bubble like quality. They literally looked like balloons of huge, thick muscle bulging off every inch of his now freakishly sized body. As he looked down and admired the new slabs of muscle now bulging off his frame, he flexed his bicep and twitched his pecs with a cocky and excited smirk spread across his face. “Wow”, The Human Road Map said. “Now THAT’S a fucking superpower”. Pete gave Mikey a sly, knowing smirk, and Mikey sheepishly grinned and looked away. Pete was the only one in the group who knew that Mikey had a very similar superpower, though Mikey’s transformation was quicker, and took considerably less effort than the one he had just witnessed. It didn’t involve anything being inserted into his bottom either. “That was fucking AWESOME”, Shaun enthusiastically said. “I’ve never seen Bicycle Pump Boy’s transformation before”. “How did he even discover he could do that?”, Mikey asked, without really thinking. All four lads looked at each other with the same confused look, as if they were all suddenly pondering the answer to Mikey’s question, and wondering how exactly a man discovers he can become an enormous sized muscle beast by sticking a bicycle pump lead up his arse. “Ok guys, prejudging starts in twenty minutes”, a man suddenly called, pulling all of the men out of their thoughts. “Fuck! Mikey!”, Pete exclaimed. “We need to get you tanned”. As The Human Road Map said his goodbyes and returned to his tanning buddie, Mikey’s stomach suddenly tightened in knots. He’d only ever stripped to his posers and shown off his body to Pete. No one else had ever seen Mikey in just his trunks. And now he was about to reveal his freakish superpower enabled mass to a room full of bodybuilders, and a sometime bodybuilder, whenever he had a bicycle pump shoved up his bum. Pete and Shaun were both looking at Mikey with expectant looks on their faces. Mikey gulped and reached for the zip on his jacket. “Now THIS I gotta see”, said an excited Shaun. Mikey’s heart was beating as he nervously removed his jacket. “WOAH! DUDE!”, came Shaun’s reaction. It was pretty much the same reaction that his friend Pete Potter had given him when Mikey had walked into the shop Pete worked at just a few months earlier. As Mikey pulled his trousers down and passed his enormous sized quads he was torn between wanted the ground to swallow him whole, and revelling in the fact that every single person in the room suddenly seemed to be looking at him, including the ridiculously gorgeous muscle lad before him, who was running his big blue eyes all over Mikey’s insanely muscular, top five Mr Olympia worthy physique, while giving Mikey, and anyone else who wanted to listen, his own analysis. “Pecs are unreal. Delts are frigging huge. Abs popping out your stomach like bricks. Condition in the quads is fucking NUTS. Incredible size…just, EVERYWHERE”. Mikey sheepishly stood as Shaun Slater, aka The Irresistible Ass Man, surveyed his body. He felt embarrassed, but also couldn’t help feeling turned on by hearing such horny words from a man as huge and gorgeous as the muscle bull before him, which was suddenly causing a swelling in the black, shiny binbag-like posing trunks that were now on display. It also seemed to be giving him something of an ego boost, which was only heightened by the amount of attention he was suddenly receiving from every other person in the room. As he looked around, it became obvious to Mikey why he was receiving so much attention; he was, by far, the biggest and best muscle monster in the room. “Gotta say though mate”, Shaun said, his eye line seemingly looking at his crotch, “kind of expected the trunks to be more colourful”. Mikey blushed and smirked at Shaun’s mention of his shiny black posing trunks. “Oh, these are just his prejudging trunks mate”, Pete explained. “He’s got some…brighter ones in his bag”, he continued, referring to the shiny pink posers Mikey had bought the day they’d first met. Mikey gave Pete a sheepish, knowing smirk. Pete knew how much Mikey loved his pink posing trunks. “Looks like it’s a three way battle then between you two lads and Bicycle Pump Boy”, Pete said. “HELL YEAH!”, Shaun replied, before spontaneously bringing his fists together and squeezing a quick, hard most muscular, which made Mikey’s eyes bulge and his dick furiously judder. But then Shaun’s facial expression suddenly changed. “OH FUCK!”, he exclaimed. His eyes were fixed on a spot behind Mikey and Pete and the expression on his face was one of utter shock and amazement. “Better make that a four way battle”. Mikey and Pete simultaneously turned their heads, and Mikey felt like his heart had just leapt into his throat. It can’t be, he thought. It just can’t be. Mikey was no longer the biggest muscle freak in the room. Strutting towards them, with about 20 lbs more mass than Mikey was carrying, was the obscenely monstrous frame of Mikey’s favourite professional bodybuilder. The bodybuilder whose name Mikey had used to sign in to the contest not half an hour earlier. The one and only Jackson James Jones. * As Chuck Carter looked around the pump room, his mind couldn’t quite fathom the sights that surrounded him. He and his boyfriend Timmy Tate were both as equally turned on by bodybuilders and had attended this very show for three years running. And now he was standing in the pump room surrounded by an array of insanely huge, shockingly shredded and beyond hot muscle bulls. There was The Irresistible Ass Man, who was even more outrageously gorgeous and obscenely huge close up than he was from the audience of a show. Meanwhile Bicycle Pump Boy was looking both nasty and beautiful in a pair of orange posers, and The Amazing Abs Man’s infamous twenty-four pack was even more magnificent from a closer distance. There were a couple of new guys too. A man whose body was decorated with the most ridiculous number of veins, and the enormous and absolutely incredible muscle monster who he’d followed into the backstage area, along with his smaller but still muscular and ridiculously sexy companion who was either his friend, boyfriend or fuck buddie. Chuck was desperately trying not to get too distracted by the incredible display of freaky muscle around him. He had to concentrate and keep his wits about him, because he and his boyfriend Timmy had hatched a plan, which Chuck’s actions were pivotal to. It was not exactly a foolproof plan and there was a chance that it might not work. But Timmy and Chuck knew exactly how this bodybuilding show operated. The lads would head out on stage for the prejudging part of the competition. Then they’d come back and take a short break, before heading back out for the finals, which included posing routines of every contestant, comparisons, and finally a posedown, where all of the lads would jump into the audience and pose amongst the spectators. Last year Timmy and Chuck had been inches away from Shaun Slater, aka The Irresistible Ass Man, who’d cranked out a massive crab most muscular in the two lads’ faces, with a grizzly growl, and a shit-eating grin to boot. He’d winked at Timmy and Chuck and given them both a knowing smirk, before he’d strutted off to find his next victim. Sometime in between the bodybuilders leaving the pump room for prejudging and returning for the short break before finals, Chuck would have to take action to ensure the plan was a success. But for that to happen, he would need to find something. Something that was highly likely to be lurking somewhere in this very room. And then Chuck overheard something. A snippet of a conversation which made his heart flutter and gave him the confidence he needed that he and Timmy’s plan could succeed. It was perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect.
  50. 6 points
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