Leaderboard

Atlas continued his story. So, my lucky break came a few days later when I noticed something on the message board in the commons area on campus. There was a new flyer on the board one morning as I went to breakfast following an early workout. The sheet of paper had a picture of Professor Michaels holding a cardboard box and it was a request for students to give him some assistance in moving. It seemed he had a new house. He asked for six people and offered pizza and beverages as a thank you. I noticed that none of the tabs that had been prepared at the bottom of the flyer were gone. I quickly removed all six tabs and shoved them in my pocket. I knew Michaels would see that they had been taken and would then figure he had his crew for the move that upcoming Saturday. He definitely had his crew – his crew of one and that’s all he would need. “Holy crap, this is getting really good.” “It gets even better, Adonis. Just wait.” So, that Saturday I wore cargo shorts and a threadbare t-shirt with Freddy Mercury on it. I knew Michaels wouldn’t register anything beyond my body, but the shirt just seemed appropriate. I had a quick workout before I went to the Professor’s house – to pump up my body, to create a masculine musk for the occasion, and to have a little outline of sweat on my shirt before we even started. Everything was bulging nicely as I walked up his driveway – seeing him standing by his garage. I knew he’d be impressed. “Good morning, sir.” “Good morning. Somehow, I knew you’d be one of the people to help me today.” He stared at my body – not at my face. He clearly couldn’t get enough of me and loved the fact that my t-shirt hid not on of my bulges. I decided to play with him a little bit – just to get the ball rolling. “I hope you’re not disappointed that I’m here, Professor.” “On the contrary. We’ll just wait a few minutes for the rest to arrive.” “I don’t think anyone else is coming, sir.” “What do you mean?” “I took all the tabs off of your flyer so it would just be you and me today.” “You did what! Do you know how much big stuff I have to move?” “Professor Michaels, do you actually think you have anything that’s too big for me to handle. Cause unless you’ve got a grand piano in there, I think I’m going to be able to move all of your stuff pretty easily.” As I said this I raised my arms into a monstrous double biceps pose. This caused the bottom of my shirt to come up and reveal some of my hard, thick abs, too. I had certainly learned how to silence the man. The now familiar open mouth and wide eyes followed a loud gulp from my teacher. He was staring at the thick hard peaks that were tearing at he sleeves of my shirt. Something twitched and sprang to life in the front of his shorts – exactly the reaction I was looking for. I knew he thought I was flexing my guns to their fullest thickness, so I taunted him by increasing the tense and making them grow even bigger. I thought his eyes were going to bug right out of his head. As he spoke he didn’t take his gaze from my arms. “With arms like that we could probably load everything onto the truck and you could carry the thing to my new place.” “Come on Professor Michaels, you know that’s not true. I’m not super strong or anything like that, although I could probably pull the thing fully loaded across town.” I could see this was clearly too much for the man to digest. I was afraid his eyes were going to roll back into his head and he’d pass out again. Somehow, he regained some strength and didn’t teeter over. I dropped my arms, but he continued to stare at them – even when they were just dangling at my side. I had already gathered that my friend, the Professor, was an arms guy. Lucky for him, since I had some humongous guns. I walked closer to the smaller man – just so he could get a deep whiff of my post-workout aroma. I swear the dude got even harder just from smelling my sweaty body. “So, Professor, you want to show me the heaviest thing in the place and we can load that on the truck first. It will get things rolling and give me a chance to show you that we definitely don’t need anyone else to help. You’ve got a one-man moving team helping you, today.” “I’m pretty sure that would be my heavy roll-top desk up in my study on the second floor.” He reluctantly turned to lead me inside – clearly sad that he wasn’t going to get to look at my arms for a few minutes. Passing through he house I could see that he had obviously been working hard to get everything ready for the move. There were a lot of boxes and a pretty good amount of furniture. Everything seemed packed and ready to go. I had a feeling I’d have this guy completely moved in a few hours. That made me happy, because it would leave more time for us to get to know each other better. When he showed me the desk, I saw that the thing was pretty impressive. It was, indeed, huge – but I knew its weight would be nothing compared to what I lifted. Luckily the doorways were big and the thing would clearly fit through without having to finesse it in any way. “Why don’t you grab the other side, Professor. Oh, don’t give me that look. You can help. Don’t worry, I won’t make you carry too much of it and as we go down the stairs I promise I’ll go first, so I’ll have most of the weight. Just make sure you hold on real tight.” I winked at the man, just to rattle his cage a little more. I know they say you’re supposed to squat when you lift heavy things, but this desk wasn’t going to be much of a challenge. I also figured in the extra weight I was going to give the piece of furniture when we started moving. I watched as my Professor wrapped his strong, but small arms around the other end and latched on hard. I reached down and grabbed my side. Without any struggle at all, I lifted and tilted the desk at the same time. The Professor’s feet immediately left the ground as he and his side went up in the air. I saw the man freak out a little and then he doubled his effort to hold on. I wasn’t using near my full strength to hold the desk and the man in the air at the same time. I easily started walking everything out the door, down the steps, out the front door, and into the truck. I never even began to feel a strain. I lowered the Professor’s end once we had gone up the ramp of the vehicle. He let go of the piece of furniture as soon as his feet hit the ground. He came around quickly to get a good glimpse of me holding his desk – something he probably couldn’t even budge an inch to save his life – with no effort at all. I maneuvered the thing to the front of the truck and gently set it down. I walked over to the gawking man, pulled my right shirtsleeve up a little and then, again, flexed my big biceps right in front of his face. “You still doubt the power of these giant things, sir?” He could only shake his head ‘no’. He was too stunned to say a word. I pumped my arm a few times just to give him a bigger thrill. The slight moan that escaped his mouth told me I had succeeded. Watching the man get so excited about my size and strength had already sent me into overdrive. I was so hard I could have penetrated steel with my rod. I knew we needed to get the moving job done, but I so wanted to pick the little guy up and take him to his bedroom and show off all morning. I released the flexed biceps and looked down at the pleased face of my teacher. “How ‘bout the sofa next, Professor, and you can ride on it while I carry it.” The little guy was out of the truck and down the ramp almost before I had even finished the sentence. I came into the house to find him stretched out on his extra-long couch that ended up having a fold out bed in it. The thing would have been a lot heavier than it looked to most people, but I had no problem lifting it. The Professor’s face beamed as I easily lugged the big thing and him across the yard. He waved like royalty to an imaginary crowd as we walked up the ramp. “Did you enjoy the ride, your highness?” “I did, indeed.” “I just got a great idea. I like the thought of you being a king or prince. I think I’ll start calling you my Little Prince, if that suits you, sir.” “Only we we’re alone together. I don’t think it would work in class.” It was his time to wink at me. There was no way he could know how that simple action – that mere acknowledgement of how he accepted my pet name and how he was beginning to reveal his true feelings – made me excited beyond belief. I had longed for a little guy to cuddle, to show off for, and to take care of for so long. I was beginning to realize my feelings for the Little Prince were consuming me completely. It was also pretty clear that he felt the same way about me. I decided to take our budding romance to a whole new level. “It’s getting pretty hot, Professor. Would it be okay with you, Little Prince, if I did the rest of the loading without my shirt?” I swear the guy’s heart stopped beating. True to form, the mouth dropped open wide, the eyes doubled in size, the face turned white as a sheet, and the man couldn’t say a word. He just nodded weakly. I grabbed the bottom of my t-shirt and started bringing it up over my enormous torso. When the shirt was about at my shoulders there was suddenly a loud gasp. “Holy fucking shit!” I immediately dropped my shirt back over my body – thinking something terrible had happened. I quickly looked at the Professor and saw that he looked like he was about to keel over dead. “What is it? What happened?” “You’re perfection.” He spoke as if in a trance. I could see he was still turning the sight of my massive chest and chiseled abs over and over in his head. I let out a little chuckle and then pulled my shirt off in one quick smooth move. I draped it over part of the truck and turned back to the Little Prince. The poor guy was having trouble figuring out where he wanted his gaze to land. It was pretty obvious he thought he’d be missing out on something if he didn’t take it all in at one time. I rolled my massive pecs just to tease him. His head bobbed up and down like he was riding some waves. “That’s it, Little Prince, follow the bouncing pecs. I want you to feel like all of these mountains of muscle bulge just for you. They’re all here just to serve my Little Prince.” My words and the heaving chest in front of him had so mesmerized the Professor that he was now completely hypnotized. It was as if he could think of nothing else but my huge body. I was pretty sure he had passed into some other world where only muscle registered to him. I decided to test my theory. I tensed every fiber that was not covered by clothing. “You like my body, Little Prince?” “Completely. It’s all I ever think about.” “And you don’t mind that I took off my shirt, do you?” “Hell no.” “You want this big man to show off for you?” “Yes, please yes.” “Then let’s get you moved, so we can have some real fun.” I walked passed the guy and down the ramp – both of us eager to get the task at hand done. For the next four and a half hours I basically loaded and unloaded the Professor’s entire house. I easily carried six boxes to each one the Little Prince could lift. I carried armoires, chests, tables, and much more – items that would have clearly required three to four moving men each. The Little Prince followed me like a good little puppy – continuously staring at my muscles as I lifted, bent over, and flexed just to continuously tease him. At one point I had grabbed the refrigerator and started out the front door when the Professor briefly came out of his trance to tell me the appliances weren’t going. I gently put the stainless steel, double-door big thing back in its original place. My Little Prince insisted on riding on all six of the dining room chairs as I carried them out to the truck – as well as anything he could fit on. It was like he was a small kid at an amusement park. I began to wonder what all the neighbors thought. The sun was beating down hard so I was sweating up a storm – not from exertion, just from the heat. Every now and then I’d run a finger down the deep valley between my bulging pecs – following the small river of manly perspiration – and then bring my fingers up to the Professor’s mouth so he could have a taste of his personal Hercules. We were both getting a little light headed – not from dehydration, but from the fact that we were perpetually rock hard, turning each other on every second we were together. The Professor whined a little when we were done unloading stuff into his gorgeous new modern house about three miles away and I told him he’d have to follow me in his car as I returned the truck. It was clear he didn’t want to be separated for that long. I didn’t put on my shirt when we drove to the rental place. I knew that would please my Little Prince in a big way. Watching the four husky men that worked at the shop immediately get intimidated when I walked up with the tiny man thrilled both of us. One of the guys, clearly the owner, cleared is throat and forced his gaze away from my massive bare chest to talk to my Little Prince. “Um, Professor Michaels, you had the truck rented for two days. Is there a problem? You’re back in five hours.” “No problem at all. It’s just that my big friend, here, has moved everything in my house on his own.” “You’re telling me that your entire two-story house has been moved in less than five hours and it was done by one guy!” “Yes.” The silence that followed in the room thrilled me. All eyes slowly returned to my big frame. I was a little excited by the fact that every guy in the room had to tilt his head back to look up at me – even though I was the youngest there. I gave the workers a big college-boy smile and pumped my arms into a massive double biceps pose. “I had a really good breakfast.” Immediately, I heard a sound that could only have been a cock spewing. Which was soon followed by the distinct smell of cum. I glanced down at the crotches of all the workers and smiled when I saw a wet stain starting to form at the front of the owner’s pants. He was the smallest of all the men, so that made me extra happy, as well. I don’t think the dude even realized he had shot off a big wad. He looked at me as he spoke. “Listen, big man, if you’re ever looking for a way to make some extra cash, don’t hesitate to come see me. I could use a one-man moving crew.” “I’ll keep that in mind, sir. I love lifting heavy things.”

Atlas finished his story, took a swig from his beer and noticed that Adonis had to grab the stool nearby and sit down. He looked a little shaken. Atlas looked at he little guy with concern. “Um . . . sorry, I’m just a little weak-kneed at the moment, Atlas. That was one of the hottest things I’ve ever heard. I think I need to rest.” “Yeah, which part turned you on the most?” “Wow, there were so many parts. A seventh grader that’s bigger than the teachers. A kid that has a lower voice than some virile gym teacher. A guy holding three bullies in place with one arm. A set of abs that don’t even notice full-on punches. A father telling his huge son to act like a superhero. A dude being easily lifted into the air. So much. But I guess the part that got me the most excited was the idea that I might take the place of little Jimmy Shaw.” “I was hoping that would be your favorite part.” “Really? Why?” “Cause I’d like you to take the part of little Jimmy Shaw, too.” “Why is that Atlas? Why do you get so turned on by little guys – guys like me?” “I really don’t know. It’s just always been that way. I mean two days after that incident at school Brett Roberts came to my house in the afternoon and begged me to lift him into the air again. He also begged me to let him punch my stomach again – a bunch of times, until he wore himself out. I obliged him, and all, but it didn’t turn me on the way it did with some small guy. Brett was too cocky . . . too confident. I think some big guys like to conquer other big men, but not me. I like to please, show off for, and take care of little guys. I can’t explain it. Who knows, maybe I have a ‘father complex’ or something like that. I just know that if I want to bust out a major wad nothing churns it out like watching a much smaller man touch my muscles or when some dude gets excited just from me flexing or – by far the most intense is when a little guy asks me to show off my strength or my size. I really wish I could explain what it does to me. Maybe it’s like when you hold a newborn bird or a kitten. You know, they’re so fragile – it almost makes you feel so powerful, just knowing you could crush them into nothing – but you don’t, you wouldn’t. That could be it – it could be because a small guy makes me feel so much bigger and stronger than I really am. Maybe the dude empowers me even more. I really just don’t know. I can tell you one thing for sure, though. It excites me in a way that’s almost magical – otherworldly.” “I bet you have small guys crawling all over you all the time, Atlas.” “Hell no, dude. Most guys are just plain scared of me – no matter what their size. I just seem to intimidate the crap out of most people I meet. You’d be amazed at how many people won’t even look me in the eye when I talk to them.” “Maybe they’re too busy staring at your humongous body.” “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Most little guys don’t even register that I’m human. They just see a mound of muscle and either turn away and run like hell or get so tongue tied they can’t say a word. They just end up staring or fainting, overcome by my size. I rarely meet little dudes that are . . . I don’t know, I don’t want to sound conceited . . . but I rarely meet any that are brave enough to talk to me. I intimidate them or something.” “Well, I’m not intimidated . . . well, actually I am – because you’re just so freaking huge, but not so much that I can’t talk to you. In fact, your hugeness makes me want to talk to you. Besides, I’m amazed anyone would find it hard to not engage with you, Atlas. You’ve got a happy, easygoing aura about you.” “Thanks. I’d say the same about you.” “So, did you and little Jimmy Shaw ever get together in school? You know, did you help him live out his fantasies.” “Naw, the dude liked girls. He’s married now and has three kids. He’s the founder of some tech start up and has made millions. Maybe billions. A couple of years ago, he asked me for a little favor, though. There were some goons at his gym that were harassing him – just like Brett and his pals in junior high school. He invited me to his elite club uptown to re-live that moment way back in seventh grade. It was kind of fun putting some adult bullies in their place while the still skinny and small Jimmy watched. It was just as big a turn on two years ago as it was way back when. And how about you, Adonis? Do you like boys or girls?” “I like huge men.” “That’s the answer I like to hear.” “The bigger the better.” “That makes it even sweeter. I hope I fit the bill.” “You fit the bill about ten times over, Atlas. How ‘bout another story from your past – one that would excite me as much as the one about Jimmy Shaw.” “Let me see, what would make you happy? Oh, I’ve got the perfect one. This would have been when I was in college. It was my sophomore year. I was around nineteen. I took an art history class mainly because everyone said the teacher was the best on campus. I’ll never forget walking into class on the first day to find a huge hall filled with about a hundred and twenty people. I was a little disappointed in the size of the class. That is, until the teacher walked in. I’ll never forget my first glimpse of Dr. Norman Michaels. He was about five feet, seven inches tall, weighed no more than one-fifty to one fifty-five, and had a perfect little swimmers build – broad shoulders, narrow hips, and an ass that was made for bouncing quarters! He wore the tightest jeans I’ve ever seen – along with a stylish blazer – and always a preppy button down. He had shoulder length wavy brown hair that fell into place perfectly. He was always brushing it out of his face. A move that made me always have to adjust myself down below. “Bet you couldn’t do that without people noticing, huh?” “Especially since my legs were to big and thick for me to put under the little desktop that flipped up and over to write on. Anyway, that first day Professor Michaels decided to call roll – something that never happened in a class, especially one that big. Everyone just signed in, but that first day he insisted on seeing who everyone was – even though we were such a huge class. I didn’t think anything about it until he got to my name. When I raised my hand I swear I saw a little smile flick across my teacher’s face and then he made a note in his grade book. I was the only one that he made a note about. That’s when I first started getting suspicious. Everything became even more obvious when we started studying Greek statues and Michaels would have me stand up in front of class – next to powerpoint pictures of Hercules, Zeus, and the like – just to compare. I swear the little guy knew the name of every muscle in the human form – something he said was necessary when painting or carving a statue – but I got the feeling there was another reason. I decided to test my theory out. “Oh this is getting good.” “Yeah? I thought you’d like it. So, the Professor decided to have one-on-one conferences with all of his students. I figured this was the perfect time to get to know the guy a little more, so I signed up for one of the first slots available. I made sure it was the last meeting of the day – thinking that would give us more time. I went to my dorm and changed into some tight cotton shorts and a muscle hugging tank top for the meeting. I was a little worried my outfit might give the guy a heart attack, but then I remembered he looked in pretty good shape, himself. I had heard he did, indeed, swim a lot. Michaels was sitting at his desk with his back to the door when I got there for the meeting. There wasn’t anyone else in the hallway, so I knew our time together would be pretty private. I knocked on the door and let my deep voice boom a little louder than usual when I spoke. “Um . . . Professor Michaels. I’m here for my meeting.” I saw the guy’s entire body shake with excitement and he even jumped a little at the sound of my words. When he turned around, I had one arm draped above my head as I held on to the top of the doorframe. This pose made my arm bend slightly, so I decided to stack the deck even more and tense my biceps a little. The poor guy dropped the pencil he was holding as soon as he turned around. His mouth popped open wide and it was clear he couldn’t speak. I saw him glance at my tree-trunk thighs bulging out from my stretched, paper-thin shorts. “Um . . . is it okay if I come in, Professor?” He didn’t speak. He merely nodded his head up and down. I purposefully waddled into the room – swinging my gigantic upper body confidently as I moved. I also closed the door behind me. I heard the Professor gulp loudly. There was a wooden chair near him – with a pretty high back. I swung my leg over the back and planted my huge self a few feet away from him. It was a move to emphasize how big I was and it worked perfectly. The shocked teacher still could not speak. He simply stared from my chest to my arms and then back again. I reached out with one of my big hands, lifted his chin to close his mouth and then tilted his head so he was looking me in the eyes. “My face is up here, sir.” He swallowed hard and it took a few seconds for what I said to register with the guy. He turned bright red and immediately started speaking wildly. “Of course it is. It’s right up there . . . up there atop of those Herculean shoulders. Those big mounds of massive muscle that seem to stick out like two Gibraltar’s. And those lead to two humongous arms that look like . . . “ And then the guy caught himself. He turned even redder and immediately shut up. He turned around, fumbled around his desk for a file – which I assumed was mine – and then turned back to me. He wouldn’t look at me for a couple of minutes and simply thumbed through paper in the folder to make himself look busy. I smiled a knowing smile. The little dude was definitely into muscle. By this point, my huge schlong was so hard it looked like someone had stuffed a fire extinguisher down my shorts. The cute little Professor was rocking all my boats. I wanted to pick him up in his rolling wooden desk chair, bring him up to my face, and plant a big sloppy kiss on those thick luscious lips, but I knew that would have made him even more uncomfortable. I could be patient when I wanted to be and I knew there’d come a time when it was the right moment for us to be together – even it didn’t end up being today. “Um . . . so are you . . . enjoying the class.” “Very much, Professor. I like it the most when you talk about my body to the class.” “Well, you are the perfect specimen.” “Am I?” I raised my arms and flexed – glancing to the right and then to the left as I bounced my biceps a few times. I heard him gasp and, again, he dropped the pencil – and then the file with all the papers. I reached down to pick everything up – mainly because the guy was completely frozen, clearly overwhelmed by my flexed peaks. I laid everything in his lap because he still wasn’t moving when I got it all together. He just continued to stare at my arms. “I really like all the examples of the male physique you show in the class, Professor. Some of the artwork inspires me when I work out. I kind of think of myself as a sculptor or a painter as I mold my body into something I can be proud of. Into something that others might find pleasing. I’m all about making others feel good.” I knew I was being a little cruel, but I couldn’t help it. I found the guy so freaking hot that I could barely refrain from reaching out and picking him up in a tight bear hug, just to squeeze my love into him. The room was getting really hot, by now, and the Professor’s forehead was covered in sweat. I took advantage of the situation. “Hey, Professor, it’s kind of hot in here. How about I open your window?” I leaned forward, scooting out of my chair a little, but staying down on his level. I reached my muscled arms around him and brought my hulking chest a few inches from his face. He was looking straight down the cavernous valley between my pecs and could see how massive they were. I grabbed the window and easily slid it upward – noticing the thing made a lot of noise as it opened. I sat back down and noticed the Professors eyes were now twice the size they were before. “Uh . . . that window’s been stuck for three years . . . no maintenance man has ever been able to get it open!” “Really, Professor? It just opened right up for me. I barely had to use any strength at all. I guess these big arms are just more powerful than a group of maintenance men.” I flexed my arms again and, immediately, I knew our teacher-student conference was over. The eyes of my small Professor rolled back into his head and the guy simply passed out. It was kind of cute. He just went nighty-night – clearly my body and strength had just been too much for him. He didn’t slump down in his chair or fall over, his chin simply fell forward and he was totally gone. I know it was wrong, but I took advantage of the situation. I reached out and copped a feel of his chest, his arms, his legs, and the swollen mound at his crotch. Just as I had suspected – the Professor was a tightly muscled little guy. And he was carrying a pretty big package, as well. I ran my fingers across his plump lips and then brought them up to my own. I had the feeling I’d be tasting those things for real one day, soon. I figured I shouldn’t leave the poor guy just sitting there, so I easily lifted him and carried him over to the sofa on the other side of the room. I was kind of bummed he wasn’t awake to see how light he was for me. The guy immediately curled into a fetal position when I set him down. I stood there for a few more seconds – just soaking up the beauty of the man. He turned me on so much. I then wrote him a note – saying I really enjoyed our meeting. I ended it by saying I hoped he had a really nice sleep. I then turned out his light and left, shutting the door behind me. “Maybe you should have carried him to your dorm room – you never know what would have happened when he woke up.” “Maybe, but try explaining an unconscious teacher draped over an arm to people on campus.” Anyway, if I had thought the good Professor was going to ignore me the next day – out of embarrassment – I was dead wrong. He handed me a note when I entered the classroom. It was written on the same note I had left for him the night before. It said, ‘Thanks for the lift last night. I slept like a baby.’ He smiled at me as I stiffly walked to my seat. It was then I realized the Professor knew he was wrecking my world just as much as I was wrecking his. I was harder than a two-by-four the entire class and he knew it. Luckily, he didn’t ask me to stand in front of the class, for my raging hard-on would have been impossible to hide. Over the next few class periods I decided to try out different outfits to see which one Michaels preferred me in. You know, I was getting ready for when we went on a real date. He seemed to light up the most when I wore a severely tight black polo shirt and jeans that were so tight they might as well have been painted on. So, the prepster liked other preppies. It was duly noted. “I bet, like me, Atlas, he simply liked any outfit that hugged your muscles revealingly.” “You’re probably right, Adonis.”

Hi, so I normally write outlines for fiction, but I've been itching to practice my actual writing on erotica. I'm still only experimenting with this short since I'm pretty rusty, so all comments and suggestions on the writing style would be greatly appreciated. I honestly don't know how to write erotica. Thanks, and enjoy (lol). — Pistachio — An Experimental Short Chris took the tumbler out of the refrigerator and let it settle on the kitchen island. “Finally,” he said. His heart pounded excitedly. He watched the pistachio-green shake defrost in front of him. He opened the lid and gave it a quick whiff, reminding him of chocolate, like was advertised. He licked his lips in anticipation. He’d spent three months preparing the formula and lost most of his savings. Being a college student, losing any more than $3 was quite a loss. Chris had spent $100. $99.50, to be exact. He couldn’t waste this. His boyfriend, Eric, called out to him from the living room. “What’s taking you so long?” he asked. “I didn’t know it took ten minutes to get a glass of water.” “Wait! I’m almost done.” “With what? What kind of complicated ass water are you drinking?” ‘You’ll see,” Chris thought. He took the tumbler with him back to the living room where Eric was lying flat on the couch, waiting for Chris to return. “About time.” he said. “Sorry, just prepared a drink for myself.” He placed the tumbler down on the side table. Eric’s eyes locked onto the tumbler. He wrinkled his brow and stared at Chris. “The fuck is that? Did you get your water from the trash compactor?” Chris chuckled. “Fuck off. It’s just a chocolate shake… that’s green.” Chris sat down on the couch. Eric crawled up and rested his head on Chris’ thigh. They looked in each others’ eyes and smiled. Eric pounded on Chris’ stomach and rubbed his hand across the soft fat. “Thought you were trying to lose weight and gain some more muscle, tubby?” Chris rested his hand on Eric’s sizable chest and wiggled his finger around his nipple. “I’m trying. I don’t want you outgrowing me so fast. You’ve been gyming for, what, three months?” Eric chuckled. “What about it?” “Dude, look at you! You’re already nearly as big as I am, and I’ve been going for almost two years.” Eric got up and sat on the couch, resting his legs underneath him. He lifted Chris’ chin with his finger and kissed him gently on the lips. As they maintained eye contact, Eric reached down and grabbed a handful of Chris’ junk. “Nothing wrong with that, though, right?” Eric smiled playfully. “Who said the bottom couldn’t be the bigger guy?” Eric said. Chris was speechless as Eric worked his hand around his member. He could feel himself getting hard in Eric’s soft hands. Eric tugged down Chris’ shorts, leaving him in only a shirt and briefs. “Oh, yeah.” He ran his tongue across Chris’ underwear, pushed out by his engorged manhood. The rough cotton travelling across his tongue. Chris had always been sensitive. He never needed much to get off, and Eric knew. Chris tossed his head back in pleasure, moaning with every lick. He looked to his side and saw the tumbler still resting on the table. He grabbed it and popped it open. Eric looked up and dug his hand underneath Chris’ shirt, groping Chris’ pecs. “Is now really the time?” he asked. Chris didn’t reply as he quickly downed a quarter of the shake. He closed it and set it back down on the table next to him. He exhaled, feeling the chilled shake travel down his throat. Eric got off the couch and on the floor. He opened Chris’ legs wide open and stroked his thighs as his hard-on throbbed harder in the tight underwear. Chris was feeling something he’d never felt before. It felt as though the chill of the shake was travelling across his body, numbing it down. “Is my big boy getting a little chilly?” Eric asked, still stroking Chris’ thighs. When the cold got to his penis, it began warming up. His entire body followed, and he felt his cock surge slightly larger. “Did your dick just get bigger?” Eric asked. Chris’ breathing was getting faster. He could feel the heat enter every fiber of his muscles. “Why don’t you–hnng–check it out?” He pulled down his briefs, letting his cock fly free. It emanated with warmth. Eric climbed up and grabbed it with both hands, immediately filling his mouth with nothing but smooth head. He licked around the shaft, knowing it was where Chris was most sensitive. Eric tried making eye contact, but Chris was focused on something else. Chris raised his right arm and watched as his upper arm slowly grew thicker, rounder. He flexed it once, twice, and with every repetition, his bicep grew bigger and higher. His raised his left arm and did the same. With every flex, he could feel the power in them growing more and more potent. “Fuck, are you growing bigger?” Eric asked. “Yeah, man. It feels so good.” Eric climbed up and began pulling up Chris’ shirt. Chris pulled his shirt back down, took Eric’s hand, and put it back on his dick. He squeezed his hand tightly and began using it to masturbate. “Fuck, no, don’t take my shirt off. I wanna feel this.” he said. “This is fucking amazing.” Eric said. Eric began licking Chris’ firm nipples through the shirt as his chest grew outward, filling his pecs and torso with pure meat. He took Chris’ growing arms and raised them to a double bicep as he dove in and planted his lips on Chris’ and his hands on his biceps. Chris’ arms were pushing up his sleeves to his shoulders. His biceps still growing at a steady pace. “You taste so good.” Eric mumbled. “Why don’t you get back down and keep sucking?” “On it.” Eric felt Chris’ cock smack his thigh as it continued to grow with the rest of him. Chris’ shirt strained as his chest and arms grew bigger and thicker. His lats pushed the shirt far out while his chest grew into two massive slabs of meat, quickly inflating. Chris’ shirt was being pushed out by his pecs that his cleavage was growing larger and larger. His pecs pulled his shirt out so far that the neck hole was being stretched to its limits. Eric was beginning to struggle wrapping his small hands around Chris’ growing arms. His biceps growing into hills. His chest, balloons. Eric felt himself being pushed back by Chris’ legs. He looked down and saw Chris’ legs jut out ever so slightly, as if he grew a few inches taller. His thighs continued to thicken and grow, and grow, and grow until they were as round and firm as steel beams. Every striation was visible. “Fuck, this is hot,” Eric said. “I feel hot,” Chris said. Chris’ member also grew in size, pulsing larger but never shrinking. Eric was having trouble maneuvering around his growing boyfriend. He was beginning to look more and more like a child trying to climb onto a growing tree. “You’re the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Eric said. “Shit.” He sat in between Chris’ legs, trapping himself inside as Chris only continued to grow bigger, bigger than anyone Eric has ever seen before. Eric grabbed Chris’ shaft firmly with both hands. He squeezed the massive tool, growing it bigger and bigger until it looked as big as his forearm. Its head rose as high as Eric’s head as he licked around it. Chris’ shirt began tearing down the middle as his pecs grew into massive pillows, his nipples large and begging to be sucked. He flexed another double bicep and his arms tore around his sleeves. His shirt could barely hold him in. Chris was living in pure ecstasy as he grew ever larger, his ass sliding off the couch due to his increasing mass. He tried looking down at Eric but his pecs had grown too thick to see past. “Where’d you go?” Chris asked. “Still down here, big guy.” Eric could feel Chris was close to climaxing and stroked his massive shaft with both hands. His tongue went on overdrive, licking every possible nook of Chris’ massive dick. It wasn’t long before it spewed out massive dollops of hot cum, coating Chris’ massive exposed torso and legs, as well as Eric’s face and hair. It continued spurting until every last drop from Chris’ balls had been shot out. They both took a second to breathe and make sense of what just happened. “Fuck! Look at me, Eric.” Chris said. “Wait, shit, how big did you just grow? I can’t fucking see, there’s cum in my eyes.” Chris stood up, knocking Eric down to the ground with a swing of his heaving member. “Shit, sorry.” The smell of bleach permeated the whole house. He looked around the room and never felt bigger. His once loose shirt now looked as though a single stretch would cause it to tear straight down the middle. It was pulled out so far by Chris’ pecs that it only reached halfway up his abs. He looked down at Eric and nearly confused him for a twig. If they had looked like brothers before, now, it was like comparing David to Goliath. Eric tugged on Chris’ still engorged member to pull himself up, knowing it only made Chris hornier. He stood up on both feet and tried looking up at his boyfriend. Eric smiled. “I think I shrunk.” he said. Chris smiled and grabbed both his pecs, trying to cup as much of them in his hands. “Naw, man. I’m just so fucking huge.” he said. “I’m so big.” Eric tried wrapping his arms around Chris’ torso, but barely got halfway around. “Shit,” he said. “Your pecs are so fucking hard.” Chris bounced his pecs, hitting Eric. His penis throbbed against his abs, chest-level with Eric. Chris bent down and flexed his gigantic bicep across Eric’s face and licked his lips. “Suck it,” he said. The thick arm took up most of Eric’s line of sight. Eric tried grabbing it with his hands and felt small. He planted his face and tongue against the bulging bicep as Chris flexed it repeatedly for Eric’s pleasure. “Was this really all from that shake?” Eric asked. “Yeah, and there’s still most of it left.” Eric bent down and grabbed Chris’ throbbing cock and gave it a tight squeeze. “Why don’t we take this upstairs? Your brother’s still out, right?” Chris laughed. “Good to go again if you are.” Chris and Eric continued fooling around upstairs in the master bedroom, exploring Chris’ newly-grown body. The two eventually fell asleep. At midnight, Chris’ younger brother, Evan, snuck into the house, hoping no one was up. He was on his way up to his room when he noticed a green shake left unrefrigerated on the side table.

“I did, however, get dubbed ‘The Protector’ in seventh grade because I decided my job would be to keep everyone safe from bullies. It was my way of being the superhero my dad talked about. There were some wee lads in my class – guys much smaller than even my arms – and I found out early on in the year that it was a huge turn on for me to take care of them. To make sure none of the older, bigger guys picked on them. One day I was taking a short cut outside and came upon three ninth graders shoving one of my little pals around and knocking his books out of his hands. Instead of getting angry or going ballistic – I was amazed by the fact that my already man-thick rod shot the hardest it had ever been and my body got all tingly with excitement. The knowledge that I was about to protect little Jimmy Shaw – showing him how big and strong I was by fending off three guys at one time – was almost enough to make me squirt a monstrous load in my undershorts. I wanted to pick up the little fellow – who had been shoved to the ground – easily lift him all the way up to the half wall that was next to us and let him watch the show. Making him feel comfortable and safe was all that was on my mind. I watched his eyes grow big with hope as I walked up behind his tormentors and that made me even more excited.” “Is there a problem here little men?” Since I had the biggest chest on campus I also had the deepest voice. Even the very masculine, heavily hairy Coach Saunders sounded a little lady-like beside me. I loved how my voice sounded like a long deep roll of thunder announcing a coming storm. I noticed the backs of our trio of bullies immediately stiffened with fear and I swear I saw the one on the right start to tremble. By the time they turned around the guy in the middle – football superstar tackle, Brett Roberts – had regained some of his cockiness and he decided it was time to rid the other students of their respect – and fear – of me, once and for all. That was his first mistake. “No problem, my big doofus. We’re just reminding this seventh grader of his proper place in the food chain. You can continue on your way – that is, unless you’d like us to remind you, as well.” Some guys would have gotten mad. Some guys would have gotten scared. Some guys would have just laughed at the dweeb. I, however, responded by immediately starting to leak a little pre-cum from the huge hard rocket in my pants. Brett was a pretty big kid – maybe the largest guy in school besides me – but even if you put him and his two pals together they still wouldn’t have equaled my mass or my strength. The fact that this didn’t register to them only made me happier than a kid in a candy store. I could see a wave of fear suddenly land on Jimmy Shaw’s face. The fact that he, also, didn’t realize just how much I could easily dominate these three upper classmen made my heart jump with excitement. I instantly knew that showing the little guy what I was capable of – without hurting anyone – was going to give me fodder for beating off for months – maybe even years – to come. I suddenly felt like Prince Charming, a knight in shining armor, or even someone like Captain America. Helping my cute little classmate with wire-rim glasses and a waist much smaller than one of my thighs seemed to make the world perfect. Every single bulging muscle in my body pulsed thick with blood from the anticipation of making Jimmy happy. “Well, I’m pretty slow, there, Brett, so I guess you three goons are just going to have to show me, too.” I watched with utter joy as Brett’s hand made a fist at his side. I knew what was coming and the mere idea of what was going to happen made me want to pick up the three boys in one big bear hug and kiss them. I also started thinking about how Jimmy Shaw was going to view everything. Seeing the upcoming altercation through his eyes made everything even sweeter to me. I wanted to be the little dude – seeing my hulking figure blocking out the sun for everyone else. I wanted to watch, from his viewpoint, the astonishing moment that was about to take place. “With pleasure, freak.” Brett swung his elbow back and let his clenched fist fly through the air into my stomach. The loud smack made Jimmy close his eyes from fear of seeing me doubled over, but it also made my hard dick spurt a bigger gob of pre cum. Nothing on my body moved. Abs didn’t cave in. I didn’t even sway a little. Brett, his two pals, Jimmy – who had quickly re-opened his eyes - and I simply looked down at my mid-section and registered how the football player’s punch had been easily stopped by something much, much more powerful. I turned my gaze back to Brett, whose face was now looking at me and signaling pain. He raised his arm and immediately shook out his hand. For a second I was worried he had broken his wrist, but then I saw him wiggling all his fingers to make sure nothing was seriously hurt. To tease the guy even more I reached down and raised my t-shirt, revealing my titanium six-pack – just to prove to him it was all me that had stopped his puny punch. “I guess this freak’s got some abs of steel, huh, Brett?” Brett’s two pals actually turned out to be dumber than he was. As soon as they saw me lift my shirt – revealing an un-tensed stomach that was cut like stones, they decided to defend their friend. Both goons pulled back their arms and sent simultaneous punches into my uncovered gut. Again, the sound of the two loud smacks was like music to my ears. As soon as I saw what was coming I wondered – briefly – if I’d be able to bear the assault as easily as I had when it was just Brett, but – again – not one part of me budged even a fraction of an inch. My abs barely registered anything. Suddenly, all three of the guys were shaking out their hands from the pain and Jimmy Shaw and I were still staring at my abs. I tensed them – just to tease the upper classmen – and to show everyone that I had withstood the punches with a stomach that was relaxed. Jimmy Shaw let out a high-pitched squeal-like gasp as he saw my brick-laid abs turn harder and pop out even more from the flex. I looked into Jimmy’s shocked gaze and let the shirt drop back down. “Pretty cool, huh Jimmy? And I wasn’t even tensing them that hard.” I took advantage of the fact that all three of the older guys were still trying to reduce the stinging pain in their fingers and wrists. I quickly lined them in a row – back to front – with Brett at the head of the line. I placed my big hand on the dude’s chest – marveling at how my fingers spread across the expanse of his pecs - and then smashed all three of them into the wall close to where Jimmy still sat on the ground. I easily held all three of them in place with one arm – loving the fact that they each started to squirm wildly – both from the slight pain of being compressed and the desire to escape. For a fraction of a second it dawned on me that I wasn’t even using my full strength to keep them in place. My one thickly muscled arm pressed them into the wall like a vice-grip that would hold two boards together. The panicked look on their faces was cool, but not half as much as the lustful, awe-filled look of the little guy on the ground. The face of that little guy was fulfilling fantasies I didn’t even know I had. He was the damsel in distress, the Lois Lane to my Superman, the Mary Jane Watson to my Spiderman, and the Jane Foster to my Thor. Jimmy Shaw made me want to do many other things to the three goons I held in place, but I also knew I wouldn’t do anything to hurt them. “So, Brett and friends, here’s the deal. Take a look at the guy down there on the ground. Take a good look. His name is Jimmy Shaw. I don’t want you to forget his name or his face. Cause, you see, Jimmy’s a friend of mine. A very good friend of mine. And from now on, whenever you see Jimmy you’re going to tell him hello. You’re going to act like he’s been your best pal for many years. You’re even going to go out of your way to be nice to him. And if you don’t I’ll be there to remind you why you should. Holding you three in place is nothing for me, mates. I’m not even using my full force. Here, let me show you.” I pushed on Brett even harder – still not near my total strength – and smiled to myself as each guy was forced to exhale even more air. The poor dude in the middle was starting to turn a little blue. I knew I’d have to let them go soon. I didn’t want to have anyone pass out. I lessened my grip and loved how my increased strength had made each one of them panic even more. “So, unless you want to see me unleash my Hulk-like strength on you – you better be nice to Jimmy from now on. Have I made myself clear?” The two goons in the back quickly nodded their heads up and down. Brett, however, proved to be even more stupid than I thought and he just stared at me. I knew I’d have to make myself clearer to him. I reached up with my other hand and grabbed the lapels of his letterman jacket. I pulled him from the other two dudes, who immediately fell to the ground – gasping for air and rubbing their aching chests. I tightened my grip on Brett and lifted my arms – causing the kid’s feet to fully come off the ground. I was taller than him – so it was fun to raise him to my eye level. We both quickly noted how easy it was for me to lift his entire body into the air. I was amazed at how light he actually was. I brought his face up to mine. I had eaten an onion-laden burger for lunch so I made sure to exhale even harder than usual as I spoke. I wanted – in the future – the smell of onions to make Brett remember how his feet dangled in the air and I held him like he was as light as a pillowcase. I have a feeling the guy, to this day, steers away from onions. I spoke slowly – lowering my voice into something close to a growl. “It seems that my buddy, Brett, is a slow learner. Maybe showing you how light you really are – at least to me – might help make our little lesson from today stick in that thick brain of yours a little more. So, you want to answer me this time, little man? Do you understand that from this day forward you’re going to be extra nice to my good pal, here, Jimmy?” I actually moved my arms to the side and tilted the dude downward a little so he could have a good look at the small guy on the ground. Without hesitation, Brett started shaking his head up and down and actually let out a little sob mixed in with the word ‘sorry.’ I was impressed with this extra touch – and so was Jimmy. I tossed the football player down onto his friends and then watched the three of them scramble quickly to their feet and run away. I gazed at them as they left – noting that all three of them kept looking back to make sure I wasn’t coming after them. I then turned to Jimmy Shaw. The kid looked up at me with eyes full of gratitude, awe, and astonishment. He then raised his arms – like a toddler might do to an adult. He was actually looking to me to pick him up. This small gesture – this tiny confirmation of how he viewed me made tears well up in my eyes. I loved how I towered over him – the incredible difference in our sizes. But only because I desired to protect him, take care of him, and show off for him. I smiled, reached down, grabbing him under the arms, and lifted him even much more easily than I had Brett. If Brett had been a pillowcase then Jimmy was nothing more than a simple tissue. I held the little guy at eye level and we simply gazed at each other without saying a word. There was no need. We both knew what the other was thinking – even without expressing a thing. I gently put him down on the ground, reached lower and picked up his books, and then carried them for him. I looked down at him as we started off. “Come on, pal. I’ll walk you to Mr. Jones’ class. When he sees that you’re with me he’ll not mark you as tardy. I mow his lawn shirtless every other weekend and he brings out six or seven glasses of lemonade every time – just to steal glances at my big body.”

“You’re a big man.” “Too big?” “Is that even possible?” “Some men would say yes. Maybe not fitting through regular doorframes is their limit. Or maybe it’s not fitting comfortably on a single bed. Or sometimes it’s just a matter of buttons on a shirt being pulled way too tight. You’d be surprised by what turns a guy off.” “Do I seem turned off?” “No. Quite the opposite, really.” “I like it when a guy can’t find a shirt that fits him well. When everything seems too small and you can actually see skin between the strained buttons. As for the bed, a real man should never have to fit into a single. It’s made for children. I like it best when a king-size bed looks small because a big man is lying on it. And doorframes seem like they were made to be busted by shoulders . . . wouldn’t you say?” “I’ve ruined a few in my time.” “I bet you have.” “The best is when it’s a metal frame and my size just dents the thing to crap as I pass through.” “I kind of feel sorry for the frame.” “No you don’t.” Monstrous pecs bounced a little under the skin-tight t-shirt. Shoulders were pulled back a little and seemed to flare out even wider. Simply to impress. The poor weak shirtsleeves inched up mega biceps that seemed to pulse to twice their size. The weakened fabric seemed like a second skin – striations, veins, nipples, and hair so clearly seen. “It might interest you to know that I compete.” “I get the feeling you also win.” “I’ve got my share of trophies.” “Although, sometimes, a living, breathing trophy is the best kind . . . wouldn’t you agree?” The bulging thick neck swallowed hard. Luscious, manly lips parted in what could only be described as a deeply masculine slow gasp. The giant had been surprised – something that seemed unfathomable a few seconds before. Dark blue eyes grew wider, followed by a smile so gorgeous it could have slain an army. “I didn’t realize this was a competition. I would have taken my shirt off.” “Not a competition, exactly. More like an interview.” “I should have brought my CV.” “I hope it’s long.” “And hard?” A much-needed gulp of the vodka tonic sitting on the bar happened at the same time the behemoth took a long swig of his beer. Eyes never left the other. Both men seemed to need a few seconds to recover . . . to move back from the edge. “How much do you weigh?” “Whoa, big man . . . getting a little personal, aren’t we?” Silence. Eyes not leaving the other. “I weigh one hundred an fifty-six pounds.” “And I weigh three eighty.” There was no way either man could comprehend how much this shared information excited the other. Sometimes, cocks harden for the strangest reasons. Weight difference . . . and difference in size seemed to be a turn on for both the giant and the little guy. There was a need for another long swallow of both drinks. “I curl weight heavier than you.” “I’m not sure any of the furniture in my place is heavier than you.” “That make you nervous?” “Just the opposite.” “Not intimidated by size?” “No. Why would I be? The bigger the better.” There was so much sexual energy flowing between the two men at that point that if any human being had walked between them the poor person would have been electrocuted on the spot. “Some men are scared by my size.” “I don’t know why. Are you going to hurt me?” “No. That’s not why I’m big.” “Just as I figured. Although, sometimes a little pain can be erotic. You know, just to show me how big and strong you really are.” “Yeah? Only if it’s something you like.” “A little squeeze here. A little bear hug there. It can be fun for both of us.” “I like the way you think.” “I like the way you bulge.” Another need for retreat. Another need for a sip of cool liquids. The drinks were now finished and the man with muscles galore signaled to the bartender for another round. He held his arm up and signaled for two more by making the peace sign with his fingers. The smaller man stared at the biceps that bulged – though it was completely relaxed. This did not go unnoticed by the big man. “Shall I flex it for you?” “Please.” A chorus of angels. The beginning of an opera by Wagner. A thousand timpani drums pounding at the same time. The finale of a fireworks extravaganza. None of these came close to describing the moment when the giant tensed his arm and made his biceps bulge to full size. It was now time for the little man to gasp slowly and let his mouth drop open wide. Time froze still for both men. Nothing else mattered – except for bulging hard flesh, gaping eyes, and a wide-open mouth. It took a few seconds for the smaller man to return to earth. “Just a little thing I’ve been working on for a few years.” “There’s nothing ‘little’ about it. It’s bigger than my head. And probably a lot harder!” “I’m glad it pleases.” The giant released the flex. He knew it would be better for the continued conversation. He watched the smaller man’s gaze stay glued to the biceps even after he had lowered his arm and left it relaxed at his side. “I’m a verified muscle whore.” “I’m a verified muscle exhibitionist.” “It seems we were made for each other.” “It would seem so. Mind if I ask a personal question?” “I don’t mind at all. I’m an open book.” “Why muscles? Why a big guy? Why me?” “To be frank . . . all of that was secondary. You smiled when I smiled at you. That comes first with me. You were friendly . . . open . . . happy. Look around this place. Look how many people seem desperate . . . sad . . . lonely. You didn’t radiate any of that kind of energy.” “Neither did you.” “Now, my turn. Why me?” “Simple. You spoke to me. You engaged me. You actually spoke to me as a person.” “I’m not sure what you mean.” “Easy. Other guys only see my size . . . my muscles. You actually saw me. I guess – since you said it - it was my smile, but you talked to me like I was a person and not just a piece of big muscled meat. I actually felt like you wanted to get to know me.” “A man is much more than his muscles.” “Just as a man is more than his gorgeous tight ass.” “Are you saying I have a gorgeous tight ass?” “Well, now that you mention it . . . yes, yes you do!” “And you, my big friend, have a body carved at Olympus.” New drinks had arrived and just in time. Both men, again, took long swigs of alcohol to calm their libidos. It seemed that only common decency and the fact they were in a public place prevented both of them from ripping the clothes off of the other. A second long sip of both drinks was needed to calm the moment. “My name is…” “Wait! Let’s name each other. Let’s give each other the name we think the other should have.” “Um . . . okay. Wow. You’ll have to give me a second.” “That’s fine. I’ve already got yours.” “Yeah? What would that be?” “Atlas. Cause you seem to be holding up my entire world. And I think you could do it with just one arm. Maybe even one hand.” “How crazy is that? I’ve got a Greek name for you, as well. Adonis. Because you’re one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen.” “The god of desire.” “Yep, that’s the one.” The two men stared at each other. If eyes had been able to undress people, then both men would have been stark naked. Neither guy moved a muscle – small or big. Desire was dripping off of everything within five feet of both of them. Around them, the bar continued to move at a different pace – guys flirting, romances ending, drinks being served, and hearts beating wildly – but right there, at their corner of the bar all time stopped and it was only the two of them. Nothing else mattered. “It seems we’re the A-team. Both of us with a name starting with ‘A.’ And both of us Greek.” “Well, the Greeks did know a thing or two about the unspeakable love between two men.” “Yes, they did. And they had so much respect for the male form . . . for muscles.” “Kind of like you.” The big man spoke in a whisper. He wasn’t sure why, but he definitely felt the importance of the conversation and of the moment. He wanted to convey all of his respect, admiration, and lust in one sentence. He definitely succeeded. The smaller man was entranced . . . in love . . . entrapped. “I feel that worship is the only appropriate response to huge bulges.” “And I feel that worship should be rewarded . . . appropriately.” “Hopefully with more flexing, more groping, and more worshipping.” “Exactly.” This time the pause – the time out – was needed more than ever. It seemed that the two men were teetering on an abyss of no return. It was clear that each guy was so turned on that they were unable to fully register other people existed in the room. The world, for each, had become completely about the other. For a few seconds words were unneeded. The big man let the back of his hand – resting on the bar – brush up against that of the smaller guy. They both looked at the ridiculous size difference in front of them. “Your hands are enormous.” “Yeah. In high school, my baseball coach said there wasn’t a glove made for a paw as big as mine. I told him it didn’t matter. I just played without one. Not even he could hit the ball hard enough for it to hurt when I caught it.” “Have you always been huge?” “Pretty much. The doctor said it was all about genetics when I was younger. I guess both my parents came from long lines of huge people. My dad’s family was Vikings and my mom’s lineage was Scandinavian or something like that. When I was around ten years old I was flipping channels one Saturday morning, bored of cartoons, and I fell upon a bodybuilding contest on a sports channel. Immediately I was entranced. There was some huge super heavyweight going through his routine to a piece of classical music and I thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world. Two important things happened at the end of his performance – I creamed in my pants for the first time, entering puberty, and I instantly knew my calling in life. I started lifting the next day – using an old barbell set of my dads – and haven’t stopped since. Some people say I took to it really well. I kept growing taller and pumped up huge immediately.” “I’ll say.” “In junior high I was bigger than everyone at school. Even the teachers. I was also stronger than all of them. My parents wanted the administrators to skip me a few grades – just to put me with boys my own size, but the principal said even college students were smaller than me. My father sat me down one night and gave me a stern talk about not being a bully and not using my size and strength in a bad way. He told me that – in a way – I was like a superhero that needed to always think about what was the right thing to do and to not hurt others. For some reason that talk stuck with me and I’ve been that way ever since.” “Lucky for us, mere mortals.”

The preceding chapter is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/13510-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake-chapter-seven/ Professor Schnackenburg's mistake Chapter Eight Jack was recovering from his orgasm, and his thoughts drifted back and forth. So huge now. Big. This power. Incredible. Together with Cody. Best mate. Able to share this with him. And somewhere inside his mind, he could hear Cody bellowing in orgasmic bliss: Yes! YES! I HAVE THE POWER! TOGETHER! His sticky cock pulsated inside his leather codpiece, again, again, and waves of ecstatic pleasure filled him, but the intensity was waning now. * * * His memories drifted. He remembered how the war-god and his cohort had entered the Archaeology Department, and left the entrance in shards and pieces. They had met police officers running down the stairs, alarmed by the sound of the break-in. The Police were already inside the building, because of some official business, and came running down from the tower. The police officers shouted something, and, when the war-god didn't comply, they had opened fire. The bullets slowed down and hang levitating in the air. "Fools. You thought that these projectiles of lead would harm me?" The war-god spoke in his deep voice, and watched the police officers arrogantly. "You should know, that all things used in combat are under my domain, and at my disposal. These hot lead projectiles were not in existence in the ancient Anghra-Lemur, but despite coming from a younger aeon, they do belong to me. Now suffer the penalty for your impudence!" Kortoth-Gnaah looked at the bullets. They changed direction, and then, at the blink of an eye, regained their original speed. The police officers tumbled to the steps of the staircase, and one of them slowly fell down the stairs, leaving a trail of blood – dark in the sparse illumination. The other police officer gasped for air, clutched his chest and belly, and stared in disbelief, as the red blots spread over his blue shirt. Kortoth-Gnaah and his housecarls ascended the stairs, and entered the tower room. A bespectacled man in his late 50s, with white hair and some sort of ceremonial robe, was interrogated by four police officers. The room was spacious, the walls high, and the ceiling formed a dome. It was probably used for formal receptions now and then, and built many decades ago, to boast the prestige of the university. A strange scent, similar to ozone, could be felt in the interior air, and it was mixed by the scent of incense and candle wax. "Now, hear now, Professor Schnackenburg. This is a serious matter. The ambulance staff found your female colleague unconscious, and this room bear witness of cult-like activity. Did you force her to consume any illegal substance? Are you both members of a cult? Did you subject her to ritual sex against her will? There are several words for your sort, and none of them are polite. You don't improve your case by obstructing justice, sir." "I don't expect you to believe me, officer, but something supernatural is afoot, and my research student, Brock MacGurgan, is involved." "Silence! I need to ask the professor!" The war-god had spoken. The police officer began to speak, and slowly turned around, to face the insolent one. "This is a police matter. The professor is heard in an official..." Then the police officer turned silent, in disbelief, at the sight of Kortoth-Gnaah and his cohort. "I said, silence!" The war-god made a gesture, and none of the police officers were able to speak or move. The men of Anghra-Lemur also felt reluctant to say or do anything. Their Master needed to speak to the professor. Slowly, the ozone and incense were mixed with the scent of warm leather and male sweat. "Brock? What in heaven has happened to you?" Professor Schnackenburg shivered. "And how does it feel to be an avatar of Kortoth-Gnaah?" The literally god-like facial features of Kortoth-Gnaah lit up in the boyishly handsome smile of Brock MacGurgan. There was arrogance there. And power. Unfathomable power. The profound maturity of middle-aged masculinity mixed with the raw testosterone-fuelled masculinity of someone in his mid-to-late 20s, but there was also cheerful boyish delight, and the war-god simultaneously embodied the male virtues of each human age, respectively, exuding timelessness. Bloodlust and battle craze were in his eyes, but also the sense of duty, the willingness to serve and protect, and there was wisdom and honour. Professor Schnackenburg shivered again. "I am Kortoth-Gnaah. Brock, your student, is my embodiment. I share his memories, his knowledge, his feelings, and – to a lesser extent – he share mine. By each hour, each minute, each second, this embodiment is becoming less Brock McGurgan, and more Kortoth-Gnaah – war-god of Anghra-Lemur – and he likes that feeling: The feeling of loosing himself into me, like a brook lose itself into the sea, or like the rain drop meld with the ocean." Schnackenburg remained silent, and in nervous awe before the older god, unable to ask anything, but the war-god asked. His eyes lit up in annoyance and disbelief. "The domain of the Sea Goddess is beyond my reach. I need to speak to her." Schnackenburg looked surprised and confused. "Sea Goddess? Which Sea Goddess?" The annoyed look on the war-god's face increased. "Don't try my patience, mortal. The Sea Goddess. Of Anghra-Lemur and of the sunken continents. She-Among-the-Old-Gods. The Lady of the depths. The Queen of the waves." Schnackenburg looked nervous and afraid now. "Forgive me, Master. If you search the memory of Brock, you must understand, that the old gods are mainly forgotten among us modern humans. Now, when you mention her in that way, I have a vague memory of a few lines about her in the Doggerland Tablets, but they are very few and scarce, since most of the lines are about you. Someone like me know more about the deities of Egypt and the deities of Greece." "The deities of Egypt, and of Greece, are just young gods. They emerged long after the old gods. They are mere descendants, mere reflections, mere froth on the surface of the unknown worlds, but the old gods last forever. I was long before they were. She was long before they were. And, as Great Cthulhu, High Priest of the great old ones, only know them dimly, so the young gods are unaware of the existence of the old gods. Search those Tablets, mortal! And search ever source you might know of! I am in dire need to talk to her again, since aeons have passed since last we spoke, in days of yore, and of nights." Schnackenburg trembled. "Well, sir... Master... Except for the Tablets, there might be something in... in the Book of Eibon." "Then consult this Book of Eibon, which is unknown to me." "Well... but... Master... a copy of it is stored in the rare collectibles section of the university library, and it is locked in night time, of course, and..." Schnackenburg sounded very nervous. "Fear not, mortal. Mundane locks and gates do not keep Korthoth-Gnaah and his housecarls out. Follow me!" The last was a command, not a suggestion. Devoid of any will of their own, the paralysed police officers and the barbarian warriors followed the war-god and the professor outdoors in the direction of the university library. Jack wasn't aware of exactly what had happened inside, but Korthoth-Gnaah had emerged from the building with a small leather-bound book with metal clasps. The professor was no longer anywhere to be seen. Korthoth-Gnaah had gazed at two of the police officers, and then said: "You are the latter-day upholders of law, order and defence. You serve and protect. You have been deemed worthy to become warriors of Anghra-Lemur." And then, a familiar glowing blast of power had transformed the modern police officers into yet other two of the war-gods cohort. The two remaining police officers looked in fear at them. "Now: Absorb your former brothers in arms! Your Master need brawnier warriors!" Without hesitation, the newly transformed men turned against their former colleagues, touched their shoulders, and, as roars of pleasure mixed with screams of fear, the touch of the two new warriors consumed the remaining police officers, and all the warriors of Anghra-Lemur suddenly and intuitively knew how it should be done. The voice of Korthoth-Gnaah had scattered the rain-drizzling silence of the urban night, and said: "Now. All of my men. Go out and absorb more men. Your war-god need brawny fighters, since there is a battle coming." That was, how Jack – almost entranced – had directed his feet in the direction of his old gym, in order to find his old friend Cody. Best mate. To consume him, and add his mass to his own, and, if the war-god was gracious, allow the unworthy Cody a small taste of what it meant to be a warrior of Anghra-Lemur. * * * His post-orgasmic bliss caused his consciousness to return from the memories to the present, and their present surroundings. The Steel Factory. Their old gym. Was it only hours since their lives had been turned upside down and changed forever? That was, when he heard a sound from the Ladies' locker room. The young warrior-titan turned around, and could see Jill, the reticent pharmacology student standing in the doorway. Jack liked to be around Jill. She was considerably more intelligent than Jess, and there was something with her eyes, that caused a warm feeling in his chest, and caused a lump in his throat. She was still wearing gym clothing, stared at him, and didn't say anything. They watched each other silently. He didn't know for how long time. "Hello, Jack." "Hello, Jill." Silence. The subdued light of a ceiling with part functional, part dysfunctional illumination. Shadows fell on Jack's chest and abdomen, revealing contours, forms and bulges – the outlines of his musculature. "Are you still yourself?" "I am myself, Jill. But I am different." She shivered. From the look of her face, not in a bad way. She came closer. "Is it all real, or am I insane?" "If you are insane, I am too, since I remember it, and you can see what I have become." He touched himself again. Big palm on chest. On abs. On biceps. Felt good. He could feel himself become horny again just a minute or two after his latest release. Can't believe these levels of testosterone, he thought. He could sense the murmur of Cody somewhere in his mind, but it was too low to hear. "But it feel so impossible!" He didn't know what to answer. He sat down on a training bench. She sat in his lap. They stared in the mirror: A barbarian from an imaginary world with a twenty-something modern woman dressed in workout gear. They didn't know what to say. "Jess left with Magnussen. What happened to them?" "I don't know. The followers of the war-god are so many now, and I haven't seen Magnussen for awhile. I hope they are ok." Shadows fell on Jack's chest and abdomen, shoulders and arms, revealing contours, forms and bulges – the outlines of his musculature. Jill traced the outlines with her fingers. One of his hands touched the synthetic fabric of her elastic gym clothing. His lips met the warm, soft and perspiring skin of her neck. They didn't say something for a while. Jill broke the silence. "I read a lot of fantasy books. Like Lord of the Rings, you know. Or Song of Ice and Fire – those books that became Game of Thrones on telly." "Mmmm?" "It's like reality turned into a novel. Or like another world suddenly mixed with our." "Mmmmm." She began to massage his traps, her face burrowed into the firm mounds, that were his pecs. He could feel the scent of her hair. Probably a shampoo. "Do you understand what's happening?" "No, can't understand it. Just... just experiencing it." "Do you think the war-god would transform me into a Mother Of Dragons? Or someone like Xena?" Jack could feel Jill's buttocks twitch in a weird way. "Uhmm. I think he only change men, but that there's some sort of goddess, that will be able to change women. Soon, I believe. I don't understand what's happening." Shag her! Jack could sense Cody screaming something somewhere in their shared mind. Jack ignored Cody for a while. "I would like that." Jill continued to massage his traps, but let her palms descend to his shoulders. Involuntary, he flexed his shoulders in surprise, and Jill let out a little sound, like a subdued cry. "Anything wrong, cutie?" She let out another sound. "No, uh, nothing wrong at all, Jack. I just feel so safe." Before becoming a warrior of Anghra-Lemur, Jack would have felt uncomfortable in a situation where a woman with unclear intentions sat on his hard crotch and none of them acknowledged the situation, but now it felt rather comfortable. Time will tell what'll happen. Fragments of Cody's mind were silently screaming something aroused, but Jack ignored it. "Good to hear, that you feel safe, cutie." His dick became harder inside his leather codpiece, and it twitched. "You are so sweet, Jack. Some of the hot boys behave like girls like me are trash, and most of the behaved boys are not particularly hot. But you respect a girl's wishes, don't you?" Jack could feel a wave of arousal arise inside his uncrushably muscular frame. "We will just sit here, and you will feel safe, if that is what you like, cutie. I understand if you want to feel safe, after the strange events tonight. Safe with me." Jack felt like some forgotten ancient protector deity, protecting the innocent, and he hugged and cuddled Jill. In another part of his mind, Cody was crazy of lust and demanded immediate action. Jack could feel a lump in his throat, but the feeling of being a protector felt so re-assuring, and, though he couldn't control the rowdy and irrepressible steel rod inside his leather codpiece, he could control his comforting and protective hands. Jill hugged him, like he was a stuffed toy, but one of her hands began to go on exploration somewhere else on his body, in a way a woman don't treat a stuffed toy. Now, she squeezed his left pec, and emitted a less-than-innocent moan. Jack could feel the scent of woman. "You clever, handsome boy. You not only look like a fantasy-warrior, you behave like a shining knight." "Mmmmm?" He didn't know what to say. She rose from his tender embrace, and stood in front of him. There was something suggestive in her eyes. "You are proud of those muscles aren't you, puppy-knight?" Puppy-knight? That was a first. Hadn't been called that before. He didn't know what to say, but his eyes must have answered. She leaned forward. He had her breasts in his face when she massaged his traps and shoulders from another angle. He didn't complain. He didn't say a word, if a handful of yelps didn't count as words. "Those are the shoulders of a warrior, protecting a damsel in distress, aren't they?" She kneeled, and put her hands on his pecs. His eyes widened. He was like a musical instrument, and she played him perfectly. "And that is the chest of a mighty conqueror, worthy to be the consort of a Mother Of Dragons, isn't it? Are you proud of your steel pecs, warrior?" Cody's silent internal screams inside their shared mind became audible to him now, and memories of Jill's muscle worship of Cody weeks ago rose to the surface of Jack's awareness. He moaned, relaxed, and allowed her to do anything to him. She must have understood his body language. She moved her hands to his bicepses and taunted him to flex them. He flexed them. She squeezed them, but she couldn't diminish their size or firmness in any way. Her touch became apprecative, and she said something of "herculean arms, marble biceps" and whatnot, but Jack shared Cody's ecstasy now, and their mind was no longer coherent. Jill's touch and appreciation drove them crazy. Mumbling "... invulnerable city wall of abs", she began to lick his abs, while he tensed them and writhed on the training bench. His dick leaked pre-cum inside the leather-pouch, and rubbed throbbingly and deliciously against the leather. She sat down beside a weight on the rubber-coated floor and hugged his quad, pushing her cheeks against it. "... these pillars of the world, warrior, keeping the heavens up in their might..." "You have been found worthy, barbarian. Your mistress is eager to please your rod." She began to lick the inside of his quads, close to his groin. Jack was insane by desire now, and inside his mind he roared with Cody as they received their shared muscle worship. Jill fumbled with the straps that held his codpiece in place. It fell to the floor. His rowdy and irrepressible steel rod had been released from its cage. She swallowed his meat-sword voluptuously, and he began to moan and bellow of insane, unrestrained lust, his powerful legs thrashing and shaking on each side of her head. She controlled the wild beast, and she knew it. The knowledge that she knew it drove Jack even crazier. Cody began to understand the gentle side of Jack, and he allowed himself to fleet away in the stream of Jack's arousal, noticing how good Jill seemed to feel. None of them knew how long time it took, but at last Jack could feel the buildup of the nuclear explosion of his mind, and then rapture after rapture, bliss after bliss, empowerment after empowerment streamed and surged through him. Perhaps he roared or screamed, but he was far beyond reason to be aware of it. When he regained awareness, Jill was sitting naked at his feet, her head in his lap. He felt so fond of her. Protective again. And his desire for her returned. His dick awoke for the fifth time this night. Smiling his warm smile and with his eyes full of giddiness mixed with self-confidence, he asked: "Is the lady of my heart ready to receive her warrior in yet another intimate way?" The yelp from her lips were enough. Her eyes burned of desire, and she throw her head backwards, as he lifted her up, entered the moist centre of her feminine being and, still throbbing inside her, carried her with his powerful arms into the Men's shower. She was the Queen of his will. She wanted to be the Mother Of Dragons, but at least she was the Tamer Of His Python. He was going to fill her. Fill her entirely. Her lips caressed the stubble of his chin, and he could feel the scent of aroused woman. The feeling of his strength, as it continued to carry her and keep her in her right position, caused her nipple in his mouth to harden. She leaned against the tiled wall, warmed by hot water. He slowly, slowly ravaged her, as her bliss increased. Filling her. Filling her entirely. The business of the war-god could wait. The night had just began. * * * Next chapter is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14179-professor-schnackenburgs-mistake-chapter-nine/

"Just to squeeze my love into him" *swoooooon...*

Part 8: The Next Level Ron stumbled towards his room, barely looking away from the sight of Bryan's gigantic frame lumbering after him. He could almost see Bryan still growing and becoming more dazzlingly handsome and sexy. A light coat of hair covered his massively thick chest and legs and emerald green eyes sparkled above a strong, dimpled jaw. Ron narrowly ducked and pivoted to successfully enter his bedroom doorway. He was reminded of how big he himself had become by the seemingly smaller size of everything in his room. Meanwhile, Bryan paused at the doorway and almost had to crawl and squeeze his way into the room. Bryan wondered for a second how he was going to leave the room if he got much bigger, but he tabled the idea as Ron beckoned him further into the room so the door could close behind him. Ron's family sat stunned in the dining room. They knew that Ron had a crush on Bryan, and it seemed that Bryan returned at least some of those feelings. They could guess at the boys' plans for each other and anticipated the newly giant teenagers might not be quiet. With barely any food left in the house for dinner, they quickly decided to head back to their restaurant for a meal. Bryan pulled at the covering around Ron's lower body and revealed the super-thick, hard cock. Bryan grabbed at the impressive tool and was rewarded with a gush of clear pre-cum over his hand, which his lingering thirst compelled him to lap up. With every movement, Bryan's muscles rippled and pumped and Ron watched as Bryan continued to look larger and stronger with each second "You are so fucking hot," Ron gasped as his cock twitched to release another glob of fluid. Bryan saw the liquid run down Ron's shaft and dove down to lick it off as Ron's cock spewed more. Despite the copious release, Ron could feel his balls filling larger with fluid and cum, like it was his body's imperative to produce as much seed as possible. Ron panted faster as Bryan's tongue played over his cock and could not stop from shouting when Bryan wrapped his mouth around it. "Oh, fuck, Bryan, that's amazing!" Bryan was thinking the same thing as Ron's dick juice seemed to both satisfy and increase his thirst and hunger and drove him into a frenzy of sucking and licking. Ron bucked and writhed in pleasure, flexing his massive muscles and feeling over Bryan's even larger bulk. It was muscle porn that stretched the boundaries of even Ron's fantasies and he felt an intense pressure building in his balls. But instead of cumming, they seemed to expand and build even further. Bryan paused as he noticed that Ron's genitalia was growing. Already, it was a freakish log atop massive boulders, even in comparison with Ron's super-beefy legs and Bryan's large meaty paws. Bryan guessed it was over a foot long, and insanely thick with a head the size of a clementine. Bryan guessed that Ron's pre-cum was making his junk grow, and likely also enhanced his own mouth and tongue to handle the impressive tool. Bryan pushed down his borrowed shorts and brought his own large but slightly smaller cock up to Ron's to absorb some of the potent juice and he rubbed the two shafts together. Bryan felt Ron's balls also pulse larger, past softball size and into grapefruit territory. Bryan realized that Ron was going to give him a record amount of cum that looked like double the amount he got last time. How fucking big would that make him? Was that safe, or would it kill him? His usual caution made him hesitate, but the newly freed, impulsive side of him urged him to make sure to get it all. Bryan flexed a freakish double-bi and imagined doubling or tripling his already superhuman size. He locked eyes with Ron who gasped and went cross-eyed. Bryan quickly dove back onto Ron's cock as gallons of cum spewed down his throat and Ron's bellowing scream filled his ears. Bryan could feel a fire-hot energy sear down his throat and into his stomach and belly and his racing heart soon spread the heat and power out to his whole body. He didn't have to swallow; Ron's massive tool extended deep into Bryan's throat and Bryan kept it there for what seemed a small eternity. His throat muscles milked the last of the cum as he withdrew and finally inhaled a large breath. Bryan swayed and moaned as he felt the rush of energy cascade within him. He already felt taller and larger and stronger as he stood and looked down from nearly the ceiling at Ron's sleeping form. He was the biggest, beefiest, strongest man alive but he wanted more and had a hunger and thirst that was just as monstrous. "Ron, wake up." Bryan lightly kicked at one of Ron's tree-trunk legs. "I need to eat." --- Tommy and Uther stared at the large closed hatch cover for a second and at the keypad embedded at the side of the otherwise smooth metal surface. "Did you see the combination?" Uther asked Tommy. "No," Tommy stated without a hint of surrender. "I guess we'll just start trying." "Wait, I think I can tell which numbers they pressed. Three keys are more worn and slightly warmer than the others," Uther offered. "How can you tell?" Tommy asked incredulously. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I can see things I couldn't before. I think the cream didn't just improve my face, but my eyes and maybe my nose, too. I can still smell the Italian sub and meatball sub those guys ate earlier, and I'm sure at least one of them has a dog. It looks like they hit 8-3-4, maybe the 4 twice." Tommy hit each button and nothing happened. He tried the '4' a second time. Still nothing. Then, the green pound button. Stil nothing. "I heard 5 beeps," Tommy remembered. "The last one was the green button; it's like an enter key. Maybe the 4 was twice but if it was hard for you to tell, it probably wasn't both at the end, maybe neither at the end." Tommy hit 4-8-4-3-# and the hatch opened with a loud click. "Got it! This is fun!" Tommy exclaimed. The cover slowly opened to reveal a short metal staircase leading to a basement bunker. The air was slightly cool and dry and arrays of LED lights lit several shelves that held a scattering of cardboard boxes. The shelves were mostly empty and some boxes had electronics of some sort or locked cases with coded labels. It was far from the mother-lode that Tommy envisioned, but he gave a triumphant cry when he found boxes with the Studlee logo and three tubes of Muscle Cream. Uther was running his hand along one of the walls. "There's something odd about this wall; I think it's a door," he commented when Tommy came over with a quizzical look. They looked for a switch or handle, but found none and decided to make their escape. Uther also grabbed a jar of the Tummy Tight powder and a bottle of Taller Water. They resealed the hatch and snuck back out, unable to lock the building's door or fully close the gate in the fence. They made it back to the car without breathing a word. Tommy unbuttoned his pants and shoved them to his ankles, then opened a tube and applied some lotion to his upper and lower legs. "You're putting it on now?" Uther exclaimed. "It's after midnight already. I thought we were still going camping by the lake like we told our parents and we'd use the stuff in the morning." "No time like the present," Tommy cheered. "Head to the Y and you can sleep there if you want, but I'm going to grow some killer legs." Tommy produced a set of keys that Uther assumed belonged to the Y. Uther drove off thinking he might as well join in and get bigger before seeing Leah again.