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Chapter 1: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14262-the-librarian/ Chapter 2: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14459-the-librarian-chapter-2/ Chapter 3: After his encounter with Ron in the gym posing room, Tom's desire for growth was super charged. For the next week his dedication for growth was unfaltering. His intensity in the gym had been elevated and at Ron's insistence, Tom ended his membership at the small 24-hour gym and signed up as a member of the hardcore Flex Plex. At home, Tom purged his kitchen of all the unhealthy and processed food that remained, leaving him with only top notch substances and ingredients. He dove into videos on cooking and nutrition and learned the best methods to make what would normally be tasteless health food appetizing. At work, Tom was operating on a new level of confidence. With this workouts and improving nutrition, he was lively and energetic. Charming and engaging with the visitors to the library, something that Susan picked up on. “Tom, you sure are happy lately, Boss. But I can't blame you. You look great. You are practically walking around with your chest puffed out. And it has become a very noticeable chest. I think you may need to borrow one of my bras soon.” Tom chortled her remark. “I think I've got a ways before that will be necessary. But yes, I've been making some great progress in the gym lately-” “I'll say! Don't think I haven't noticed those polos looking even tighter lately. It looks like you've been shopping at the Baby Gap.” “Oh stop, it is not that tight!” Tom chuckled, replying in defense. “Hey! Hey! I'm not complaining! And truthfully no one else is either. I don't know if you've noticed, but there has been a noticeable increase in the number of women visiting this branch. Word about the city's hottest librarian seems to be getting around.” “Well that's flattering, but I would prefer to see an increase in the number of hunky young men...” “Oh, I would too, Boss! I would too.” Tom had weighed himself at 226 lbs at the end of the week, another staggering jump of 7 solids pounds of muscle, a number that led to another jackoff session in front of the mirror as Tom admired the burgeoning stud that stared back at him. All he had to think of was his growing muscles. How he was setting new PR's on virtually every exercise, growing stronger and stronger. He recalled staring up at the underside of Ron's pecs as he benched 225 lbs for ten reps earlier that evening and how proud he was. Benching two plates on each side for ten was always a measuring stick for the truly strong, and now he was there. Alas, as exciting as the previous week was for Tom, it was the following week that the struggles began. Even with all the effort he had been putting into his workouts, even with all the motivation, he found the weights he was using were no longer increasing. Here or there he had been managing to eek out an extra rep or two with the help of Ron or another regular member of the Flex Plex yelling him on, but the gains were slowing down. At the end of the week Tom had only managed to put on an addition two pounds, up to 228 lbs. At work, the new branch had steadily been gaining patronage as new people became aware of the new facility. Susan was quick to remind Tom that he had a part in that as well. “Boss, I think our wish has come true! Have you even noticed that a few more young men have started to come to the Library? I'm not going to claim to have serviceable gaydar, but I've caught a few of them staring at you, you know.” Tom, shocked, didn't believe her, “Don't tease me, Susan. I've noticed more people coming and so obviously there will be a few more men but I haven't noticed anything.” Susan rolled her eyes and giggled. “I'm serious, Tom. Cripes, sometimes I don't believe you are gay for as unobservant as you are...” While work seemed to be going great, that week his gym progress was nagging on his psyche. His growth had seemingly halted and as weighed himself he found that he had not gained a single pound nor set any personal lifting records that week. “FUCK!” Tom grumbled as he stepped off the scale. Ron winced at the outburst. “Woah, Dude. What's going on?” “I didn't gain a single pound this week.” Ron chuckled as Tom grumbled. “Damn, Bro, you've been bitten hard!” “Bitten hard by what?” “The iron bug! You've got a case of iron fever as hard as anyone I've ever seen.” “I'm just trying to get bigger. I want to get bigger. I NEED to get bigger!” Tom glowered. Ron rose up his hands in defense and smirked, “Easy, big guy! I want you to get bigger too. You are just hitting a plateau. Every lifter hits one eventually. And let's be honest, it's not like you can grow forever. Look in the mirror, dude. You are jacked!” Ron reached out and thwacked Tom's meaty exposed chest with an open hand. Normally this would've send blood to Tom's package but he was so frustrated he hardly noticed. “It's not enough, Ron! I gained seven lbs a couple of weeks ago in six days alone. Now I've only put on 2 or 3 lbs in the two weeks since! What the hell?!” “Heh heh. You really are becoming a meathead, aren't you, buddy?” Ron reached up and ruffled Tom's sweaty hair. Tom turned to glower at the shorter stud but when his eyes saw Ron's handsome smirking face he relaxed. “Sorry, Ron. You're right. Things have just been going so awesome in the gym and at work that I should appreciate this.” “Yeah you should, stud! Hey man, get this. I heard from one of my gay buddies about this certain 'Hot Librarian” at a nearby branch. You wouldn't happen to know anything about this fella, would you??” “Shut up, Ron. Did Susan put you up to this??” “Who the hell is 'Susan'?” Tom huffed and Ron chuckled. “Hell yeah, man. Look at you! Becoming a known asset in this little city, you are. Seems like many people want a taste of some librarian beef.” Ron, looked around, looked at Tom and then lowered his voice, “...And I can't say I blame them!” Ron winked and reached up and quickly tweaked Tom's nipple, sending shudders down his exposed sweaty torso. Tom grinned back down at Ron. “You better not start something you don't want me to finish.” “Haha. Or maybe I do, Tom!” Ron winked. Fuck, Ron really knew how to get Tom's gears churning. “But, hell Ron. Why have I stopped getting bigger. It feels so damn sudden.” “That typically means you need to change up something. Need to give your body a little shock of some sort. Tell you what. Next week we will change up the weights and rep ranges. You might try mixing up your supplements. The trick with muscle growth is to constantly keep your body guessing. Maybe try some weight gainer powders too. Got any?” Tom thought back to the unmarked tubs of what smelled like chocolate protein powder back in the closet at the library. “Yeah, I think I do.” +++++++++ Tom took Ron's advice to heart. The following day once his shift was over, Tom grabbed one of the unmarked black tubs of powder and took it home. He also committed himself to increasing his caloric intake by another 1000 calories. He went to the store and along with his shopping cart full of meats and eggs, stocked up on almonds, natural peanut butter and whole milk. From his internet research he read that these items were great ways to get in additional healthy calories. Tom pulled up to the checkout stall and started loading his food onto the belt. “Did you find everything you were looking for, sir?” the cashier said his rehearsed line. “Yes, thank you,” “Wow, Sir, I can see how you got so buff.” Tom was taken aback as he looked to the cashier, a sturdy, athletic looking high school kid. The kid's strong build seemed to indicate that he was heavy into sports. Tom was briefly at a loss for words as this was the first time a stranger had acknowledged his newly built musculature. The friendly young man added, “I'm trying to pack on some more muscle myself for next football season. I was the backup linebacker last year. Coach told me I need to eat more meat and eggs to put on size. It obviously seems to be working for you.” “Um...thanks. And yes, you gotta follow the old adage, eat big to get big.” Tom puffed out his chest as his confidence grew on the spot. Here was this young stud, looking up to and praising his build. As the teen, Chet, according to his nametag, scanned and rang up his total, he and Tom bantered like two gym bros, sharing their lifting poundages and techniques. Chet was thoroughly impressed that most of Tom's progress has only come in the last couple of months. Tom even found himself giving the young jock some advice on nutrition and lifting! It was all something completely new to Tom. Back in high school he was a beanpole, tall and skinny. He had virtually no experience conversing with a school-age jock in his entire lifetime. Chet rang up the last item and read the total to Tom who whipped out his credit card to pay. “Well, thanks, Chet. It was nice talking to you. Good luck with football.” “Thank you, Sir! As much as you eat I have a feeling I will see you again in here.” Tom thanked the young man and headed to his car, feeling bigger and better than ever. +++++ The following day Tom geared up for an intense leg workout with Ron. Tom dreaded leg days. Being a tall guy, he naturally had an aversion to squatting down low. And Ron, being the hardass trainer that he was, never went easy on Tom. It was good thing in the end and he had been seeing his legs grow like the rest of him, but it was never easy. That morning Tom had made himself a nice homemade gainer shake consisting of whole milk, cottage cheese, natural peanut butter, oatmeal and a scoop of the chocolate protein powder from the unmarked black tub. He topped off the shake with a juicy strawberry to give it a touch of sweetness. As he guzzled down the thick shake, he savored the flavor. The new powder was a nice rich chocolate which went perfectly with the hint of strawberry. Soon after consuming the shake he began to feel a warmth spreading through his body, almost like the feeling he got after drinking a strong nitric-oxide preworkout powder. “Damn, I feel good!” Tom thought to himself. He was feeling so alive and energetic that he debated heading to the gym right then and there, but he knew his workout would be even better with Ron. For the next hour he tried to busy himself with weekend chores, laundry, dishes and paying the bills. But any little task he did seemed to stimulate his body. He almost felt like he was getting a pump just from folding clothes and scrubbing pots. The feeling of blood pulsing through his veins and muscles caused his dick to chub with excitement. It was like his body was on overdrive. Finally, the hour was up and it was time to head to the gym. At the gym, Ron was witnessing what seemed to be an animalistic version of Tom. Tom ferociously attacked the weights with an intensity that the even-keel librarian hadn't really shown before. With every rep he gritted his teeth and roared, sweat pouring down his face. As Tom finished and excruciating set of 25 leg extensions, he flopped out of the machine and fell to the ground, groaning as his quad muscles were bloated with a painful pump. “Damn, bro. What's gotten into you? You are on fire today. I think you've set a PR on every exercise we've done.” Between breaths Tom was able to respond. “I don't know man. I just...I just feel like I have so much energy...my body is buzzing...I just feel...powerful and aggressive.” Tom looked up to Ron and caught his eyes. Ron could practically see a fire in the librarian's pupils. Tom growled to Ron, “...And I like it!” “Haha, big guy. I like it too! You keep working like this and you are going to explode with size. Here let me help you up. Ooof! Damn you are heavy!” Ron grabbed Tom's arm and helped pulled the growing man up onto his wobbly legs. “Woah, easy there! Grab that machine and steady yourself, dude. You better prepare yourself man. You are going to be baby deer for the next of days the way you worked your legs today, fuckin' awesome! Holy shit, man. Pull up those shorts a bit.” Still hanging onto the leg press machine for support, Tom reached down and hiked up the left leg of his shorts. It was then he saw what Ron was seeing. His medialus and lateralis quad muscles were pumped harder and bigger than he had ever seen. New, small veins crisscrossed the pulsing muscle. Ron reached down and poked his vastus medialis as it bulged and threatened to encroach on his kneecap. “Goddamn, Bro! It's like I'm poking granite. Have you always had those veins in your leg muscles?” “Not that I remember, Ron. Jeezus my legs feel so pumped.” Tom straightened his left leg, flexing it harder and his lower quad muscles hardened even further, pushing Ron's pointer finger away. “Damn, Tom. You've got some serious wheel going on here. Hang on I gotta take a pic of this.” “What?! No way, man I'm not like that...” Tom protested. Ron chuckled as he pulled out his phone, “Too bad, man. I'm posting this on my Instagram. If my potential clients see you then I will be getting lots of business soon. Alright, flex that big wheel! Awesome, bro!” Tom returned home and headed straight to the kitchen. As part of his new dedication Tom had been preparing several premade meals when he had time at night. He pulled out three compartmentalized Tupperware containers and scarfed them down within the next 10 minutes. As he sated his hunger he chuckled to himself as he patted his stills sweaty, engorged belly, “Shoot, that was supposed to be three meals worth of food. Now I have to make more.” Tom whipped out his phone and pulled up Ron's Instagram page and sure enough there was his picture with the caption, “My good bro Tom the Librarian got an epic leg day pump today! DM me for training rates!” followed by several hastags including: #legday #squattilyoudrop #datpump #neverskiplegday #nevergiveup and #librarymuscle. The last one making Tom laugh to himself. Tom examined the picture closely and had to admit he'd never seen his legs look that big. He then reached down and pulled up his shorts again and was surprised to see that his huge pump was still there. Ron and Tom only worked out together on the weekends and on Thursday, so for the first half of the following Tom had to workout alone. Everyday Tom would enjoy a meal shake with the mysterious protein powder and every day, even without Ron there, Tom enjoyed the best workouts of his life. The pumps were insane. His joints felt better than ever. Where he was used to feeling little aches and pains, he felt none of that. After after gym session he felt hungrier than ever. He was eating more and more during each meal and was having to prepare nearly twice as much food at nights than what he was used to. But it was worth it. Tom could practically feel himself growing. It was like any pump that he got from the previous workout remained. His swollen muscles never seemed to lose their pump. He felt harder than ever...and so did his cock. Along with the killer workouts his sex drive had ballooned. Tom swore that he had an erection more often then his heavy softie. He found himself making more trips to the bathroom at work to take care of business and relieve some pressure. He hadn't felt this horny since he was a teenager and even then he wasn't sure he as amped up as he was now. With his slowly swelling body, Tom began to notice more and more how little things here and there reminded him of his progress. Simple things like lathering up his face to shave was now slightly more challenging as his plumped biceps impeded him from bending his arms too far. How restocking books seemed to give his delts a good pump. How reaching up to scratch his neck was now more difficult. And the clothes. His clothes were becoming tighter and tighter, something that had not gone unnoticed by Susan. “Boss, you really need to move up a size...it's becoming a bit distracting. You're shirts and pants have gone from fashionably snug to way too small.” Tom glanced at the red, checkered long sleeves covering his arms. They were plastered to his biceps and forearms. The oxford shirt was tight all over and the buttons strained across his pecs. “I guess you're right. I hadn't really noticed how much progress I have made lately,” Tom lied with a smug grin. Susan rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I don't believe that for a second, Mr. Muscles. I admit, you look great, but if you don't get some new clothes soon you are going to burst out of those.” That thought sent a pulse to Tom's cock. “Haha Susan, I've still got to put on a few more pounds before that happens...” As he spoke Tom reached forward to grab a pen at the edge of the desk when a sudden RIIIIPPPPP interrupted the silence. Tom looked over at his shoulder, the seems of this sleeve had torn loose from the shoulder. “SEE!!” Susan shouted. “My goodness, Boss. You are becoming the hulk.” As she spoke, Tom was happy he was sitting at his desk as his cock has shot to full mast. And could it be? Was it possible that it felt like his cock has extended just slightly further down his leg than he remembered? “I guess you're right, Susan. I'll have to hit up the mall this weekend, heh heh.” Tom chuckled happily at his situation. Susan exited the room. Once the coast was clear Tom hurried to the bathroom for another tension relieving jack off session, thinking about how he was literally growing out of his clothes. On Thursday, Tom strutted into Flex Plex and right up to Ron, who gave him a quick once over. “Geez, big guy. Are you wearing a smaller shirt? You look really big today.” With a smug grin, Tom replied. “Nope, just making some awesome gains lately thanks to you!” “I know you have buddy, but I swear you look way bigger than when I saw you last weekend. Shit, dude...” Ron trailed off as he studied Tom's body, which seemed to be stuffed into an excessively tight T-shirt. In the past, as they lifted and pumped, Tom vascularity would increase. But now, even before their workout, Tom's arms were lined with thick, pulsing veins. The duo proceeded to have an epic back workout. For the first time since Tom had known Ron, Ron was rendered speechless as he watched his former protege attack the weights. The formerly quiet and reserved librarian was roaring and yelling as he completed barbell rows, dumbell rows and lat pulldowns, his back pumping and expanding wider and wider. Since this was a hardcore gym, the beastly yelling he was emanating wasn't unusual from the big lifters, but these sounds had never been heard from this new member. By now, Tom was now not only using the same weights as Ron, but was consistently lifting 20 to 30 lbs more than the ripped surfer. “Fuck, man. You are a goddamn beast, dude. You look like you are going to tear out of that shirt,” Ron had commented as they grabbed a drink of water after their last set Tom smirked down at his trainer and almost growled. “I hope I do soon, buddy. Fuck, I just feel so awesome. Like I could just tear down the walls of this place. Like nothing can stop me. The weights have been feeling lighter and lighter. I swear I'm growing by the hour!” Tom punctuated this last statement by bringing his arms up into a double biceps pose, right there in the open gym by the water fountain. Ron had never seen his client pop any sort of muscle pose before with any sort of seriousness. Ron watched as Tom's biceps plumped and hardened. The lump of arm muscle bloated as Tom slowly bent his arms and brought his fists toward his head. With a SNARL Tom reached full flex... RRRRRIIIIIPPPPPPP. Just like the previous day in the office, the sound of tearing fabric was heard. Ron watched aghast as Tom's biceps had torn through the too tight sleeves of his soaked workout T-shirt. “YESSSSSSS” Tom hissed as he flexed and unflexed his burgeoning canons, shreds of fabric hanging from his sleeves. Blood began being redirected to his crotch as his dick plumped excitedly to half mast. “HOLY FUCK, DUDE!” Ron exclaimed. “Those pythons are HUGE! Way bigger than last week. C'mon, bro. We gotta check something...” Ron glanced down at Tom's shorts and noticed the growing bulge. He shook his head, turned and headed to the locker room. “Follow me, dude.” Ron led Tom into the locker room. Tom swaggered as he followed his trainer, noticing just how small that Ron looked. He remembered Ron looking so huge and jacked when they first met a few weeks ago. The guy was still super ripped stud and hot as hell. As he followed Ron he couldn't help but ogle the surfer stud's pert ass, but he couldn't help but grin confidently that it was obviously apparent that he was bigger than Ron. Much bigger. And not simply due to his height advantage. “Alright dude, step up on the scale. You were 227 last Saturday?” “228,” Tom corrected. Tom placed one foot on the scale, then the other and stepped up. With rapt attention the two men stared at the LCD display on the wall. 246 lbs. Ron gasped. Tom just stared at the number. “HOLY FUCK, TOM. That's eighteen pounds in five days!” As Tom processed the number his dick quickly swelled to full mast. At that moment he didn't give a shit if Ron or anybody else noticed the obscene tent in his gym shorts. He was all man. He was a strong, jacked beast. He was the hunky librarian. He was a bodybuilder. “FUCK YEAH,” was all Tom had to say.

Here is Chapter 8. I just want to say how incredible your feedback and reactions to my story have been. Although I've only posted one other story here, I think it's safe to say, I will be writing many more. I'm in the process of writing Chapter 9 now. I think it will be the final chapter but who knows... I hope you enjoy. Chapter 8 I opened my eyes and for a few minutes, had no idea where I was or how long I was passed out. Once I realized where I was, I scrambled out of the bed. I checked the time; close to an hour. “FUCK!” I rushed to make sure everything was back where is should have been. It was at that moment I felt something strange on my back. I want to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I let out a scream at the sight. The weird feeling on my back was due to the fact my t-shirt had ripped up the back and my bare flesh was completely exposed. But that wasn’t all; my whole body was bursting out of my clothes. Staring at my reflection, I barely recognized the person staring back. I looked absolutely massive. I stepped onto the scale and let out a moan when it displayed 279lb. “Twelve pounds! How could I have gained twelve pounds in less than a hour?” Then it hit me. Bruce’s gear. “H-how could it make me gain so much weight, so fast?” My head was spinning. I knew Bruce had gained a staggering amount of mass but no where near as much as I just did. I looked back at myself in the mirror and inspected my reflection closer. Not only was I twelve pounds heavier, the new mass was quality size. My shoulders were rounder, my arms thicker, my traps higher and my vascularity was off the charts. I grabbed the collar of what remained of my shirt and ripped it off. I gasped at the sight. My waist looked like it went down an inch. Even un-flexed, my abs looked straight out of a comic book. I caressed each granite-hard cobble. I raised my right arm and marvelled at it’s increased size. It looked like the arm of a Mr. Olympia competitor. My heart was pounding in my chest as I stared dumbfounded. I knew there was powerful gear out there but this was like something straight out of science fiction. Maybe it was a combination of my body’s chemistry reacting to Bruce’s gear but at that moment, I really didn’t care. I got lost again in my reflection as I continued to flex and feel my hulking form. Minutes later I snapped out of it and remembered that Mitch was at the gym, alone with that sadistic monster. I rushed to grab my torn shirt and finish cleaning up. I hurried down the hall towards the front door when I passed the office and stopped. I moved towards the tiny fridge and opened it again. With little hesitation, I tossed all the remaining vials into a shopping bag and closed the fridge. Minutes later I was racing back to the gym. --- The look on Bruce’s face terrified Mitch. “What the fuck are you doing?” Mitch yelled. “Sorry old man, but your pumped up body got me going.” He said and licked his lips. Mitch was shocked and confused. “Didn’t know I was gay did you? Well, I usually keep myself under control in public but seeing you bench that last set and flex that awesome chest has me horned up,” Bruce said and rubbed his growing hard-on. “I don’t care if you are gay or not, but what’s makes you think I want to do anything with you?” “I wasn’t asking.” Bruce said and advanced. Mitch landed a powerful right hook to Bruce’s jaw. The sounds of the impact echoed throughout the gym. Bruce however, just shook his head and continued to move forward. Mitch then bent down and drove his massive shoulder into Bruce’s abs. With incredible power, Mitch lifted the massive man off the floor and slammed his body onto the floor. Desperate to subdue the larger man, Mitch started kicking Bruce in the abs and lower back. Each powerful blow by Mitch’s enormous legs caused gut-renching smacking sounds that filled gym. Mitch was setting up for one more kick when Bruce’s hand shot out and caught his foot. Looking up at Mitch, Bruce started to laugh. “You old fucking fag!” Bruce said and applied pressure to Mitch’s ankle causing him to yell out in pain. Still holding Mitch’s ankle, Bruce maneuvered his body so he was now in a kneeling position. He placed his other hand on Mitch’s huge calve and squeezed. Mitch howled in pain. Bruce released his grip on the ankle and grabbed Mitch’s throat. In a display of incredible power, Bruce proceeded to lift Mitch as he himself stood up. With little effort, Bruce now pressed Mitch’s 382lb body over his head like it was a sack of potatoes. He positioned himself so he could see his refection in the gym mirror. “Look at how puny you look up there old man? You feel so light too. FUCK I’m a BEAST!” Bruce said and started to press Mitch up and down. His shoulders exploded with dense, veiny power. “I-I’ll fucking kill you” Mitch yelled. Bruce just laughed “I’m bored of these games. Time for Bruce to get his” he said and slammed Mitch onto the concrete floor. Mitch lay there motionless for a moment. Bruce grabbed both sides of Mitch’s head and hoisted him to his feet. Mitch stumbled but was able to remaining upright. Bruce wrapped one of his obscenely pumped arms around Mitch’s thick waist and placed the other on his back. Mitch struggled to get free but Bruce easily overpowered him. With barely a grunt, Bruce lifted Mitch off the ground and tore his poser off in one fluid motion. Mitch looked at their reflection in the mirror and was terrified at the look that came over Bruce’s face. Mitch let out a yelp as Bruce’s huge, hard cock smacked against his exposed ass. Bruce adjusted his grip on Mitch’s waist and with just the power of one arm, started to manoeuvre Mitch like he was a sex toy. “Look at how fucking massive I am. So HUGE. So POWERFUL” Bruce repeated as he watched his reflection in the mirror. He ran his strong, callused free hand down Mitch’s outrageously muscled back. He then lifted Mitch a foot higher and without hesitation, slide his cock into Mitch’s ass. Mitch screamed in terror and pain as Bruce started to fuck him in mid air. He could feel Bruce’s arm shake as it held and controlled his huge body. Every time Mitch tried to look away from the mirror, Bruce would grab his hair and pull his face back to the mirror. “You need to watch this old man. Watch as the biggest BEAST in the world fucks you!” Bruce growled and continued to plunge his cock into Mitch’s ass. Bruce looked like he was about to cum when there was a load crash near the back of the gym. The giant man dropped Mitch and spun to see Andy standing at the back door which had just been ripped off the hinges. “STOP!” Andy screamed. From the ground, Mitch looked at Andy and let out a terrified yell. Andy was barely recognizable. His buff body was replaced by that of a professional bodybuilder. In his hand, he held six empty syringes. He looked like he was about to collapse but was somehow able to regain his composure. “Leave him alone Bruce!” Andy screamed as his legs stabilized. As the six syringes flooded into his blood stream, he let the powerful sensation wash over him. He was not planning on injecting himself with more of Bruce’s gear but when he saw Mitch being fucked by the demented freak, he knew he didn’t have a choice; Bruce needed to be stopped. Seeing the empty syringes fall to the floor; Bruce realized they from his supply. “What the FUCK have you done?” He screamed. “I found your secret serum Bruce. And in case you haven’t noticed, it has a pretty insane affect on me.” Andy said and raised his arms into a double bicep pose. Instantly, his arms exploded with newfound mass and vascularity. They appeared to surpass 23 inches and visibly grew as Andy relaxed and re-flexed. To most people, the size of Andy’s body would have been truly amazing. To Bruce, who was riding high on his domination of Mitch’s massive body remained unfazed. He was however, enraged that Andy had taken his gear. With a bellow of rage, Bruce started to approach Andy. Andy was ready for Bruce. He ran towards the hulking monster and rammed his shoulder into Bruce’s flexed abs. To both men’s surprise, Bruce went down hard. Andy stood over Bruce’s body and grabbed both sides of his head. With a violent jerking motion, he lifted Bruce off the ground so he was now on his knees. Holding his head with one hand, Andy rammed his knee into Bruces face. The impact echoed throughout the gym. Blood poured from his nose. Andy took a step back and revelled at what he had just done. Bruce still outweighed him by close to one hundred pounds but the increase sense of power flowing through his veins was intoxicating. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror and marvelled at his visibly increasing weight. It looked like something straight out of a cartoon. He could “feel” his weight increasing by the second. “Fuck this juice is incredible. Like it was designed just for me.” Andy said and reached his attention on Bruce. “Stand up” he commanded. Bruce wiped the blood from his nose and stood up, ready to tear Andy in half. He swung his right arm towards Andy’s head but was shocked when his opponent caught his hand in mid-air. Andy quickly applied pressure and smiled as a look of pain appeared on Bruce’s face. With lightening quick speed, Andy moved behind Bruce and wrenched his arm behind his back. Bruce started to pat his elbow with his free hand. With another surge of power, Andy pressed Bruce’s arm higher. “I’m going to FUCKING KILL YOU!” Bruce yelled through gritted teeth. “Not if I kill you first” Andy screamed. He glanced over at Mitch. His once strong, massive lover was still lying on the floor. Tears streamed down his face. Rage filled Andy as he looked back at Bruce’s neck and back. Glancing over his shoulder and seeing his reflection in the mirror caused his cock to involuntarily get hard at the sight. Still much smaller than Bruce, Andy looked downright massive. With a animalistic growl he grabbed Bruce’s pinned forearm with both hands and lifted. Bruce let out an agonizing scream as his 390 plus pound body was lifted a foot off the ground. Andy held the massive beast in the air for a few minutes before letting him drop. Still holding Bruce’s wrist, Andy raised the arm above his head. With one violent jerking motion, yanked Bruce’s arm straight down. There was a load crack that filled the gym as Bruce’s left shoulder was pulled out of it socket. Bruce screamed in pain and fell to one knee. He looked up at Andy and was about to speak when Andy’s knee once again, slammed into his jaw. He fell backwards as a fresh stream of blood started to flow. Andy stood over Bruce, breathing heavy. He bent down and placed his hands under Bruce’s armpits. With barely a grunt, he lifted the limp body into a sitting position. Andy then bend lower and hoisted Bruce over his shoulders. In an astounding display of power even he didn’t know he processed, Andy stood up straight with Bruce draped over his shoulders. His entire body swelled with increased power and mass. Andy positioned his hands across Bruce’s neck and groin and started to apply pressure. Bruce was awaken by the pain and let out a terrifying howl. With one final display of pure power, Andy walked towards a nearby weigh bench. He repositioned his hands and lifted Bruce’s body over his head. His arms shook but he was able to hoist the incredible weight. With a growl, Andy dropped Bruce perpendicular on the bench. Bruce’s back landed right over the padded bench as his legs and arms flopped onto the ground. His dislocated shoulder was at a very unnatural looking angle. “Looks like your shoulder is messed up big guy. Should I do the same to your other arm, or maybe I should rip them off your fucking body all together.” “P-P-Please stop.” Bruce muttered. “What was that? Do you want me to stop? Just like you did that day in the gym? I don’t remember you stopping when you saw me getting hard. You certainly didn’t look like you were going to stop when you were raping Mitch.” Andy screamed. “I’m sorry” Bruce said with tears in his eyes. “Sorry? You pathetic piece of shit!” Andy screamed ”you aren’t sorry.” “I am” Bruce pleaded. Andy wasn’t listening. He was breathing heavy as he stepped closer. He raised his left leg and brought it down on Bruce’s quad who let out a blood-curdling scream. Andy raised his leg again and was about to stomp again when he heard Mitch scream “STOP!” Andy turned to face Mitch, who was now standing. “Andy, STOP! I know you want to kill him but please don’t. Don’t stoop to his level.” Mitch pleaded. “Mitch! What are you saying? Look what he did to you; to me!” “I know Andy, I know but this is not the answer. You can’t kill him; that’s not who you are.” Mitch said and approached Andy. He wrapped his arms around his growing lover and couldn’t help feel Andy’s newfound mass. Andy relaxed and fell into Mitch’s arms. After a few minutes, Mitch released Andy. He kissed him on the lips and said “Look at him Andy. You’ve proven your point. You won. There is no need to inflict more harm.” Andy looked down at Bruce who looked like he was barely conscious. “You’re right.” Andy agreed. “What do we do with him now?” “Help me get him to his truck. He’s on his own from there.” Mitch said. Both men picked Bruce’s body off the bench; he howled in pain as they carried him to the front door. They stuffed him into his truck. Bruce turned to look at Andy and tried to speak. Andy leaned in close and whispered “If I ever see your face again, I will KILL you.” Andy draped his arm around Mitch and the two men went back into the gym. Bruce waited a few minutes before somehow starting the truck, putting it in gear and drove away. He swerved as he slowly drove away. Andy watched from inside the gym as the truck left his view. He turned and looked at Mitch, who was crying. As he approached, Mitch collapsed into Andy’s arms. Cradling him like a baby, Andy carried Mitch’s massive body upstairs. “Everything is going to be ok” Andy said “It’s all over.”

Part Two: The line I got home, tossed my gym bag into my room, and focused on dinner. It was Friday night and my roommate mostly stayed at his girlfriend's place on the weekends which was usually great for me, but I was craving distraction from the multitude of questions bouncing in my head. It would have been nice for someone to reassure me that I wasn't going crazy, but maybe I was. After dinner and a few minutes of not really watching TV, I decided to at least make sure the jar wasn't a figment of my imagination. But there it was, in my gym bag, looking pretty normal. I opened it and it was mostly full of whitish powder. I closed it again. No instructions or ingredients or expiration date or anything on the container except for that bit of masking tape. There wasn't even a scoop inside that I could tell. Who only knew what this stuff was. But, it wouldn't be poisonous, right? It might just taste bad. Or be some kind of drug. I poured a couple inches of milk into a glass, stared at the jar, opened it, stared at it again, walked away, got my phone to maybe ask the internet or a friend for help, wasn't sure what to ask or say, put the phone down, got out a spoon, got out a smaller spoon, dipped the edge of the spoon and took out a small scoop. It looked like sugar, or maybe salt. I shook the spoon and watched a couple grains fall back into the jar. I touched the powder with my finger and a few grains clung to it. I rubbed those few grains off my finger and into the milk. "That would be safe. That couldn't hurt," I said aloud, trying to convince myself. I swirled the glass around and it still looked like just milk. I picked up the phone. "Hey, Tom," I began. "I went fishing today. Yeah, well, I ended up with this jar that had 'Muscle Growth Powder' written on it. Yeah, seriously. Well, I put some in some milk and ... yeah, I'm gonna try it, of course, but what do you think ... yeah, it's a good joke ... no, I haven't had any yet ... oh, okay, yeah, I'll let you know, ha-ha. But ... okay, bye." That went about as expected, I thought, but was more reassuring than I anticipated. I mean, of course it was a joke. I looked at the half-full glass of milk, grabbed it and thought about how stupid this was. What was the point? I asked myself. Either it's crap that tastes awful and is a total gag, or it's regular protein powder and I should just make a decent shake out of it. I thought about tossing away the contents of the glass and make an actual shake. Maybe I could get Tom to try it first ... but why waste a bit of milk? I chugged the glass, which tasted exactly like milk, of course. I looked back at the mysterious jar and waited a minute to see if I would pass out or start hallucinating or maybe even grow some muscle. Nothing happened, so I brought the jar back to my room and put it next to the couple other supplements I sometimes took. Tom probably wouldn't have thought twice about just using the powder for a normal shake. I again took a moment to reassess if I felt anything strange or different, but then continued with my nighttime routine. Later, I laid in bed feeling both mentally drained but also physically restless. I had had a good workout that day and was maybe still feeling pumped from the higher bit of adrenaline I got from the heavier weight and increasing motivation to challenge my body to grow. Yeah, it felt like I had a great workout, but wait, how did my muscles still feel so pumped? A realization began to dawn in my tired mind and I rushed out of bed to the bathroom mirror. "Holy shit!" I exclaimed aloud. I looked bigger. I flexed a double bi and a most muscular. I was bigger. I wondered if this was a dream. I felt over my hard arms and smacked my thick chest. I looked pretty good before, an attractive guy, but my reflection was now in stud territory. I looked over my wider shoulders, tighter abs, thicker legs, everything bigger and harder, with more visible veins and sharper definition. "Holy shit!" I yelled louder and laughed as I realized this must have happened from the powder. It actually was muscle growth powder! "Holy shit!" I gasped deeper. I had used a rice-grain amount. How much would a full scoop do? I dared to imagine myself with even bigger muscles, like bodybuilder muscles, like Mr. O muscles, like comic book muscles. My cock grew hard as my imagination overlayed on my reflection. I jacked myself off, feeling over my improved body and flexing more and wondering if the powder also made my dick a bit bigger and harder, too. I definitely fired my cum harder and more intensely than I ever had. I nearly passed out from the pleasure, but my strong legs supported me. I got drowsy after the release and again wondered if I was having a dream. I walked back to the bedroom, feeling my thick legs move over each other and my strong back holding me even more upright than usual. I crawled back into bed, feeling my hard muscles bulge against the sheets and mattress in slightly new ways. I almost didn't care if it was a dream; it was worth it either way. I woke up and felt my thick chest and bulging arms once again, still as big as last night but this time slightly more familiar. I smiled wide and stretched and flexed in bed some more, also feeling over my massive legs and inflating cock. Eventually, I got out of bed and spent some more time in front of the mirror. I watched my lats spread wide to my sides and my chest mound up thickly. My shoulders bulged wide and high, and rippled with the slightest effort. My biceps were hard, veiny mounds that flexed into high peaks and my triceps filled my thick arms. I was surprised at how even my forearms and hands looked huge and powerful. I shook and flexed my legs, marveling at the definition of the different quad muscles and felt the newly thick bulging of my hamstrings. My calves also bulged huge and I became fascinated with flexing them a few times at different angles. Finally, I wondered what my new body would feel like in action. I felt like I could lift some serious weight now. I'd look exactly like those bigger guys I would notice at the gym before. And I could get even bigger. I raced back into the bedroom to make sure that same jar was still there, and marveled at how innocent it looked. I used my fingertips again to put just a pinch of the powder into an empty water bottle. It was such a small amount, but it was probably double what I took last night. I filled the bottle with water and put it in my bag thinking maybe I should not drink the whole thing in one day. I next pulled out my roommate's scale. I now weighed 217, and was still lean. Previously, I had only gotten to 200 pounds by bulking up with some extra fat. I guessed that I gained almost 25 pounds of muscle overnight. Would drinking all of the bottle I had just packed add another 50? I picked out my baggiest shorts and the XL tank that Tom had given me. It looked loose, but definitely fit better than yesterday. With another 50 pounds of muscle, it'd probably fit pretty well.

Part One: The hook Tom was a big goof, but I couldn't have gotten where I am without him. We had started working out together several years ago at the same corporate gym. Neither of us had been a jock in school, but we both shared what we knew about working out and developed some routines we both enjoyed. A few years and a couple of jobs later, and we stayed connected enough to usually find a gym convenient for both of us and workout a couple times a week together. Tom was never very serious about anything, but he almost always showed up at the gym when he said he would. We hung out a couple times after a workout, grabbing a bite or watching a game, but outside of the gym we really didn't share much in common. We both made decent progress over the years, sharing similar goals to look good naked with lean, athletic bodies, even if we never played an actual sport. But lately, I had started to feel like Tom was holding me back, keeping me from pushing my body to the next level. I looked at the bigger guys at the gym with a desire that Tom didn't seem to share. Sure, I didn't have to stay with the same weights that Tom used, and with dumbbells I sometimes went a bit heavier than Tom. But, even when Tom encouraged me to go heavier, it felt a little like betrayal of the routine and the comfortable relationship we had built. "Fuck, I forgot shorts," Tom exclaimed as we were unpacking our gym bags in the locker room. "I guess I gotta go fishing," he said with a grin. I chuckled along and lightly shook my head as Tom went back to the front desk. It started as a joke. Tom lost his watch at the gym just a week after joining. As I left after that workout, he went to the front desk to ask if it had been turned in. The attendant showed him a crate of belongings and dug out a couple watches. At our next workout, Tom grinned wide as he showed off his new watch. We hardly ever saw the same person twice at the front desk, and about once a month Tom would decide to "go fishing" and say he lost something. He could give a detailed description of the item he "lost" because he would try to remember some of the contents of the crate each time they brought it out. One time, he randomely got a lock that he didn't even know how to open. "I'll google how to crack it," he said then. As Tom went fishing for shorts, I started my warm up on the treadmill. He came over soon with a child-like grin, pointing at his black shorts that looked a little small and short but showed off his legs pretty nicely. "They have a whole other box for clothing," he whispered. "This one looked clean." The next week, Tom gave me a tank top that had "Do you even lift, bro?" on the front. At first, it felt odd that Tom bought me a gift, especially one that was a size or two too big for me, but then I realized he had gone fishing for it. He assured me that he had washed it at home and bugged me to try it on. He laughed at how low and baggy it fit on me. I don't think he realized how much I wished I had the huge muscles to fill that XL tank. I don't think I really realized it until then, either. The next day I did a workout on my own and I had a growing frustration that drove me to go heavier than usual. Without a spotter, that meant mostly using machines rather than free weights, but my muscles felt a good, deep burn that I hadn't gotten in a while. I looked again at one of the bigger guys with jealousy that almost felt like anger. My thoughts were distracting me while I showered and changed. I thought about confronting Tom, either sharing with him my true desire and hoping he'll support me, or telling him I'm moving on, or was there a third option? I saw another new person at the front desk and in my restless frustration I decided to go fishing. "Hi, I, excuse me, I lost a, um," I fumbled. I thought of what I wanted, really wanted to get, and blurted out, "jar of muscle growth formula." As I froze and felt my face turn red, the attendant laughed. "I saw that this morning and thought it was funny," she replied, then turned and bent down to a lower shelf and produced a generic screw-top white plastic jar that had a piece of masking tape on it that read "Muscle Growth Formula". I was stunned and tried to smoothly say, "Thanks" with a forced chuckle. Trying not to look as awkward and confused as I really was, I grabbed the jar, placed it in my bag and headed out the door.

Excellent story, man. The writing really draws you in! I'm eagerly looking forward to the next part.

And very good it is, too: https://www.coiledfist.org/stories/index.php?mode=search&submitted=1&keyType=sid&query=whatthefabala_medicaltestin

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A year long wait for Part Six, sorry, school got ahead of me and when I was finally free I wasn't in any mood to write. This part is mostly filler and some plot, more transformations to come in the next part though. Thanks for reading. Read Part One HERE Read Part Two HERE Read Part Three HERE Read Part Four HERE Read Part Five HERE Liquid Manhood Chapter Six Chris lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling deep in thought. The room was still dark, but dim light shone through the gaps in the curtains. The light illuminated the cause of Chris’ thinking, a large tent in Melvin’s bed sheet, and two massive feet that hung out the end of that bed. A couple of months ago Melvin had been a small runty nerd who Chris could twist around his little finger, but then Melvin took some of the magical elixir home. Now Melvin was more confident, he was questioning Chris’ decisions more and he was keeping Chris awake with hour-long fuck sessions every single day. The only benefit to being kept up so late is that Chris had the time to think over the events of the past few days. That first day when he found out what had happened to Melvin had been the hardest. Hearing that deep voice over the phone made his heart drop, but he nearly died when he found Melvin. Melvin had directed Chris to come talk to him at some apartment, his nerdy roommate opened the door in just his underwear. He was now tall, built and from the look of the bulge in his briefs, hung like a donkey. Seeing Melvin had only added fuel to the theory that the elixir had a plan of its own, that the changes it caused weren't random. That in fact it mattered on what sort of person you were, an undeserving person would end up as unappealing, but a deserving person, as Melvin appeared to be, would end up owning mouthwatering pecs with big silver dollar sized nipples, abs you could wash clothes on and a bulge that looked like it could feed a small village. The conversation between the two roommates was awkward mainly because Chris could see the four girls who lived in the apartment had been fucked senseless for what must of been several days. From where Chris sat he could see the girls in a sleeping cum stained heap on a bed in a bedroom, the doors having been pulled off its hinges, they all had smiles on their faces. A smile which matched Melvin’s smug smirk, he knew the situation between them had changed. Melvin though didn’t rub it in that he was now a towering stallion compared to Chris, which Chris had expected. Instead he talked about what had happened to him and what he’d thought was going on with the elixir. In the days following Melvin’s marathon fuck session both boys shared their theories on how the elixir affected the user. Chris’ theory that who you were mattered held more water then anything Melvin offered. It was nearly confirmed when Chris and, the now meathead, Melvin found out what happened to the people dosed by the water bottles from the school gym that Chris had tainted. The equipment manager Thaddeus Stern had ballooned into some ebony black beast of muscle and manhood, he was instantly recruited by football team to his own delight. Yuri was also dosed too, and to Chris’ delight he didn't end up huge. Instead the slim swimmer had swelled into some hairy bear. A gut of muscle and fat replacing his toned abs. Melvin didn't think the change was that bad, Yuri looked pretty intimidating, an opinion which seemed to be shared by others. Yuri had been recruited to the football team too. The third person to be dosed had surprised Chris. Coach Peters had changed and it seemed to have knocked him out of the funk that losing his football team had caused. His flabby gut had been sucked in and tightened, his hair darkened and his face lost a good 20 years of wear and tear. The man who now stomped around campus in a sweat suit with a big cigar in his mouth was nothing like the old Coach Peters. Scary was the word that Melvin had used after he'd been cornered and almost forced to join the football team by the new Peters. He was rebuilding the team and taking anyone who even looked like they lifted weights. Chris though was half attracted to the new barrel chested daddy like-coach. He would have expected that Peters to get the bad side of the elixir, but instead Peters’ love and loyalty to the boys on his team had instead made the elixir turn Peters into a better man than he already was. Chris’ reminiscing was ruined by the loud wet slapping coming from Melvin’s bed. The big lug had thrown back his blankets and was fisting his Pringles can cock with both of his meaty fists. Chris just rolled over and buried his face into his pillow hoping Melvin would only jerk off once this morning. ——————————————————————————————————————————— “Good workout today man” Thaddeus’ Barry White-like voice said Both he and Sean were standing in the locker room of the school gym, they had it to themselves as the other patrons seemed to flee the room when they both came in sweaty from their workout and stuffed into gym shorts that looked close to bursting. They'd both showered on the far side of the showers from each other, both trying to sneak in a quick wank, though it was hard to keep two massive muscle men jerking wrist fat monster cocks secret. Neither of them brought it up, even thought they’d both cum at the same time. “Yea, good lift” Sean agreed, pulling on his shirt The two muscle men were both buttoning up their shirts, both having the same issue of pulling the shirt together over their pecs. Thaddeus with his glistening ebony pec pillows and Sean with is fire-red furry slab like chest. Sean and Thaddeus had met soon after Coach Peters had recruited them both for football team and they’d become fast friends. Mainly it was due to them being forced together as they were both of similar size, but they shared an intense interest in video games, so a friendship had blossomed. A tv bolted up to the wall loudly played some sporting news show, the announcer worriedly talking about the removal of some big name athlete from the Dallas Cowboys because of some sort of disease. Sean had seen the guys face all over the internet and he’d even jerked off a fair bit to the guys modeling pics. Sean gave up on closing his shirt, his entire hairy pec cleavage on show. The button just below his pecs barely holding the shirt closed. “You coming round mine tonight to game” Sean asked pulling up the zipper of his jeans again Since his last growth spurt Sean had found a guy on Craigslist who was selling a tonne of clothes in sizes that could actually contain him, but now after a couple of months of actually working out, playing football and slowly growing he was beginning to outgrow them. Thaddeus, was himself just stuffing his overpacked undies into some jeans. He pulled the zipper up and gave his hefty bulge a good grope with a big black hand. “Nah man” Thaddeus chuckled deeply “Got a date tonight” Sean laughed “What again… did last nights go so well” Thaddeus left their gaming session last night with some cheerleader under this arm. The big black stud had been grinning ear to ear earlier when they started their workout, so it must of gone well. “Yea, yea, it did, nearly broke her bed” Thaddeus laughed, doing a little thrusting movement with his hips “But its not the same girl… her friend" “Slut” Sean laughed lightly punching Thaddeus’ shoulder Thaddeus packed up his gym bag and seemed ready to leave, obviously eager to get to this date. “Yea pretty much, I used to be some pathetic virgin” the black stud laughed “But since my growth spurt I've been getting pussy every day… even multiple pussies sometimes” Sean felt his eyes roll, Thaddeus just laughed at his reaction. The two friends said goodbye and the black beast thudded out of the locker room, leaving Sean to struggle to get his clown feet into sneakers that were falling apart because they were at least a size too small. The walk back to his dorm room was quick, but it was a constant barrage of stares as he stomped across campus. He knew his heavy bulge was bouncing from thigh to thigh with each step and his pecs were dangerously close to launching the remaining buttons of his shirt across the path ahead of him. Sean was struggling with his keys at his door, his big meaty fingers fumbling over the tiny, little pieces of metal. “Sean” a quiet voice asked Sean turned to look and just saw an empty corridor. Then he looked downwards. A nervous yet smiling brown haired boy stared up at him. It was the guy he’d brought all the old clothes from. A guy of barely 5ft2 who for some reason owned clothes ranging from XXL to XXXXL, Sean didn’t ask why. “Hey... Ben right” he asked, hoping he’d got the name right Ben nodded as Sean turned away from his door to look down at Ben. The smaller guys eyes widening as he stared at the thick overhang of Sean’s pecs. Thankfully his eyes weren’t looking down to the overstuffed bulge of his pants which was shockingly close to Ben’s eye level. They were silent for a few moments, Ben just watching as Sean’s pecs slowly heaved with each breath. Sean broke the silence “So, why are you here” He knew that Ben didn’t live in the dorm. He loved in one of big frat houses on the other side of campus. Ben muttered something, sounded like he was nervously gathering his words. “Just… just... wanted to see if you wanted to hang out” Ben asked, smiling slightly Sean wondered if Ben had actually wanted to ask something else, but the sight of Sean’s hulking hairy form had knocked all the confidence out of the little guy. Sean chuckled slightly “Sure, I was going play some games, but we can hang out” Sean opened his door, the gust of warm musky air washed over them both. Ben actually squeaked in surprise. “It's only a single-player game, but I’m sure we could find you something to do” Sean said, letting Ben pass into the room Sean followed him in, giving his big bulge a quick rearrange before closing the door and trapping the little guy. ——————————————————————————————————————————— “Do you have any books on witchcraft” Barrett asked up to the librarian Without even looking pass their glasses and down to the runty Barrett, they muttered a floor number. Barrett had gotten used to being ignored since his fall from grace. He quickly headed up the stairs, taking two at a time, which was a stretch for his short skinny legs. Luckily no one would recognize him, he wasn't the Barrett anyone on campus would recognize. A few months ago Barrett had received an email about his campuses links to magic and witchcraft, since then he’d been researching the subject. He’d read more books and written more down in these months then he’d ever done in his life. It had started as a simple way of passing the time and maybe distracting him from his diminished body and from the housekeeper's son cleaning the swimming pool shirtless, but it had become a desperate passion once AJ returned home. The doctors had said that AJ had a muscle wasting disease, the same thing that the doctors has said to Barrett. AJ had lost his position in the NFL and returned him a broken man. AJ was nearly as small and runty as Barrett was and was getting smaller all the time. His personality shift was more dramatic than Barrett’s had been, Barrett regularly could hear AJ crying himself to sleep. When AJ was a towering beast Barrett had never even heard a single word spoken in a unsure tone, let alone seen him shed a tear. The CDC had even visited the house to check it out for any environmental causes, they found nothing. Just like they’d found nothing at the athletic department on campus. Barrett had actually stopped off to see how things had changed. It was just the same as Barrett had left it, without any reminder that Barrett had ever existed. The CDC had even kept an office on campus, but they didn’t seem to be doing anything. Just some guy sitting alone in an office bouncing a tennis ball off the far wall. The suddenly collapse of his brothers obscenely manly physique and the CDC’s continued inability to find a medical cause had only pushed Barrett closer towards witchcraft and magic. It had knocked Barrett out of his depression, he’d become more active, more set on finding an answer. He’d be researching anything and everything that could link to his and AJ’s situation. Quickly moving away from any sort of scientific explanation and focusing almost entirely on the thin hope that something beyond explanation had caused his and AJ’s predicament. He came to the correct floor, wheezing, he was so unfit now. He moved through the cases and desks looking for some sort of sign directing him to his answer. The floor was pretty much empty of students. Just one guy with long black hair sitting at a desk with headphones on. Barrett stopped to stare at his guy, he was well built. Large pecs straining at his shirt and thick arms gripping the table. Barrett bit his lip, muscle really got to him, his little cock hardening in his pants. The guy let out a moan and Barrett could see a hand was beneath his shirt feeling up his pecs. Barrett knelt down to check under the table, having to look between the legs of chairs and desks between him and the big guy. A blond haired head was moving back and forth between the guys massive jean clad legs. Barrett let out a gasp and scurried between some bookcases. He heard a sloppy sounding slap and a guy, probably the blond, taking in deep breaths. “Zach, did you hear something… I think someone is here” one voice said between deep breaths “No one is here” another deeper voice said “Get back to sucking bitch” There was slapping sound and a return to wet sucking noises. Barrett was sitting on the floor, his back leaning against a bookcase. His cock rock hard at the sound of the blond struggling to deepthroat whatever this Zach had between his legs. Down the line of books, Barrett saw a massive ornate bookcase. Leather bound books of various sizes filled its shelves and a sign above in posh looking gold lettering read. “Tiberius J.J. Haber Occult Library” Barrett jumped to his feet, for the first time thankful that he was small, his feet making no sound as he moved. He ran down the aisle towards the bookcase. As he approached he saw how run down the bookcase was. The golden sign was faded, the wood chipped and in placed moldy. The books were covered in thick dust, but Barrett saw a few finger marks. A couple of books on the middle shelf had been touched recently, but only those books. He strained to reach up to them, again hating how small he was now. “Did you see that guy… getting a blowjob in the library” an insanely rich and deep voice boomed from down the aisle “From a guy…” another voice stated sounding annoyed “Damn” the deep voice muttered “I mean, nothing against gays, Chris, you know that…” The other guy, Chris, just sighed loudly. Barrett fell back to another set of shelves and hid behind them as the two men approached. One was tall with strong features, almost model like in his movements. The other was a brute, towering nearly as tall as the bookcases and nearly as wide as the aisle. The massive dude had a hand down his shorts and was obviously scratching at his balls. Chris though was inspecting the occult bookcase. Chris gently lifted the middle books away from shelf and tapped at the wood behind them. “Good, it’s still jammed” Chris said returning the books to their place “Huh” the big guy said, he’d been busy sniffing his hand after scratching his nuts “The compartment where we found the magic book… we jammed it so we’d know if someone else found it” Chris said, trying not to raise his voice at the giant guy The big guy's viking like face made an expression of understanding. His heavy lantern jaw moving to make an ‘oh’ sound. “It’s still jammed so whoever was asking about witchcraft never found it” Chris mused “Wait… how’d you know someone asked about that” the big guy asked “I paid the librarian to call me if someone did, why do you think we even rushed over here” Chris said smirking arrogantly “We don’t want anyone finding out what we did… well not till I’m your size” Chris gave a playful backhanded tap to the big guy’s abs which were showing through his shirt. The two turned and left, Barrett’s head spinning, could magic actually be real, what where they are hiding. He waited for the big guys wide back to vanish around a corner before slowly he started to follow them. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Sean was laying on his front on his bed. It was too small for him. His pecs were hanging off the end and he was awkwardly propping his meaty arms on the edge so he could play his game properly. His big mits pressing buttons and his TV loudly sounding out the gun shots of his character. “You ok back there little dude” Sean asked peeking over his shoulder to Ben Ben was laying between Sean’s legs, the big guys legs bent and pressing down on Ben’s back. Ben’s face was pressed between Sean’s rounded muscle ass and his tongue deep between the cheeks. “Just slap my ass once if yes, twice for no” Sean said, trying not to chuckle Ben’s little hand flew up and slapped the rock solid left cheek of Sean’s ass and then fell back to gripping at Sean’s thigh. “Good boy” Sean said returning to his game “In a bit I’m move across to my gaming chair, you can suck or sit on my dick if you like” Sean’s cock was rock hard and laying between his legs and throbbing against Ben’s tummy. “Well you going suck or ride it either way, I’ll let you choose which happens first” Sean’s let out a deep moan and almost crushed his controller as Ben excitedly assaulted his asshole with his talented and surprisingly large tongue. ——————————————————————————————————————————— On opposite sides of campus, two groups of friends were meeting. One a group of young men who were busy planning the next phase of their Homes for Humanity project. The other a group of young men planning which news agency’s website they were going to bring down with a denial of service attack. They were in similar number and a similar makeup of guys, just different in personalities. But one thing that these groups shared was that the refreshments at their meetings tasted weird.

MUSCLE DADDY a romantic muscle growth story co-written by @Astromuscle, @canon & @raphi0508, with the inspiration of @Marquis Chapter 1 - The Introduction Whew, finally I am back I thought when I set my bag down on my dorm bed. Too bad that my old roommate got suspended cause it got out he was taking steroids. As I unpacked my belongings, before I had to attend my first class this afternoon, I thought back and remembered how cool it was to live with my old roommate. He was 5ft11 and weighed 200lbs at the beginning of college, though he told me secretly he wanted to grow with the help of steroids and that he had a good source. True to his word he did grow. At the beginning he had the body of a typical high school football jock. Nice bulging 17’’ arms, wide shoulders, pretty solid and ripped legs and a nice bubble butt. And best of all was his big bulge. In those three years everything changed for me. He grew 40lbs of pure muscles in just one year. After three years, he weighed an astounding 270lbs and had developed the body of an Olympia-level bodybuilder. Watching him grow, arms getting bigger and more defined, chest getting puffier. I was horny a lot, and I often jacked off just thinking of him. He was also the reason I discovered I was gay. He became very confident in his body, needless to say. He began strolling around naked in our room, and I got many mental images to help me jack off to. Pumped muscle, huge roid gut, and thankfully the roids didn’t seem to affect his junk, hanging large from his body. The problem with him was that he was as straight as an arrow. Nearly every week he had another girl with him in bed, and word was afterwards every girl couldn’t help but talk about his huge cock. I couldn’t blame them he was huge, at least 10’’ from what I could tell from him strolling around our room, not concerned that I was staring wide eyed., I wish I had gotten the chance to feel the large cock, make it inflate, and cup those large balls in my hand. Maybe the college found out about his steroid abuse because it got to be too obvious. As he left we promised each other we would stay in contact, but life came in my way and I had to earn money during summer. Now the new and hopefully last college year has started, but I am sure I will find some time to meet him again soon. I wonder if he continued to grow in the meantime. I drifted away from the things I had to do and got a boner. I hope that I will have enough time before my new roommate arrives, to get off, because hiding my 8.5’’ boner is not easy. Maybe my new roommate is a small dweeb, then my hard on would probably go down fast enough he wouldn’t see it. Suddenly some knocks on the door made me jump up surprised. Even more so I was shocked as my new roommate walked in. Fortuna was generous with me, because he was the most massive guy I had ever seen. He had to turn sideways to get through the doorway. In front of me stood the most impressive and beautiful man I saw in my life until now. The large man squared himself to me after having entered, effectively cutting off my view of the door. Each arm was carrying suitcases that were making his forearms bulge, each muscle standing out, held in place by a net of veins crossing each other and drawing my eyes up his arms, huge biceps and triceps thickened around his arm, a muscle hoody hid the rest of the body a little although i could see some big pecs heaving out from his chest, the hoodie draping over it, hiding whether he had abs, or a gut. My penis twitched at the thought of ripping off the shirt to find out. After a second sizing me up he dropped his bags with a loud thud and reached out his hand. “Hi, I am Mark. I’m guessing we will be roommates this year. Nice to meet you”. I reached out and we shook hands. Damn he has such a strong grip. His hand was larger than mine, thick muscular fingers didn’t give at all to my pressure, and I could feel weight lifting calluses. I was sure we could become good friends. He let go of my hands and bent over to pick up his bags. My penis jumped again. His back is so wide and that ass looks so hard, where do I stare...I quickly shoved my hand into my pants to shove my penis to somewhere less conspicuous while he had his back turned. I had to move to let him by as he passed I noticed my eyes barely met the top of his shoulders, seeing his large delts pulling the fabric of his hoodie forward and back as he carried the heavy bags. After we both had finally unpacked we sat down and started to talk. Mark told me that he is here because he got a Football scholarship, but he also told me that he really wanted to do bodybuilding instead, like his dad does. He enthusiastically described how big his dad was and how small he was compared to him. He also mentioned that he got the good genes of his dad, and expects to start growing bigger soon. The muscle talk made me pretty horny again, I was very thankful that I was sitting down. During our talk we both found out that we have most of our classes together, even the first one of the new year. We continued talking for a while, until we had a sudden shock because we had nearly missed our first class While I was getting ready Mark suddenly dropped his jogging pants to change into jeans. If I thought my old room mate was big, then Mark was a freak. His quads, calves and bulge were huge. I couldn’t stop my jaw from dropping. Mark had been in a rush, but noticed me sitting in awe. He smile confidently at me, turning to give me a better view., “Pretty impressive, huh? You can thank my dad’s good genes for this thing too, though he is much bigger.” Then he gave me a wink, causing me to blush. I used far more willpower than it should have taken to close my mouth. Once he stopped teasing me and got ready, we both left for class. During the year, we got even more connected. We got to be pretty close friends. Unfortunately for me again, he was also straight. I tried not to let on that I was gay, hoping it would make him more comfortable. If he knows I’m gay he might not take off his pants in front of me anymore either, which would be a tragedy. We both started to workout together after Mark mentioned he really needed a spotter at the gym, and so our friendship got closer because of it. I was unsure how good of a spotter I was being, but Mark didn’t seem to mind, and he spotted me in turn. Luckily I was also benefiting from the workouts growing more athletic myself and began sporting some good pecs and my arms were gaining some definition. Throughout the year I also got to see more of Mark. When he had arrived I had only seen those heavy arms of his, and later his privates. In retrospect I had wished I could have noticed his legs at the time, but I had been hyper focused on his manhood. As it turned out I didn’t need to worry, since much like my last roommate, Mark had no boundaries. I got many opportunities to appreciate Mark’s entire body as he would stroll around naked in our room. Is this a jock thing? I don’t walk around in the nude. Maybe I would if I looked like that I guess. His wide back held his arms out away from his body a little, a nice V-taper going down to his ass. I also discovered he did indeed have a flat stomach, abs like bricks holding up the large chest and shoulders with a solid foundation. His ass was muscular and even at rest you could see the muscles through any slight amount of fat he may have housed there. Large, powerful quads came out of his tight waist, bounding up and coming in tight to his knees. Diamond calves pressed hard against his skin behind his shins, more veins becoming apparent as if the skin needed help to contain the muscle. If I thought Mark had even one atom of gay in him I would worship those muscles in every way my brain could come up with, but sadly I had to settle for keeping some tissues near my bed for when he walked into the bathroom for a shower. During our workouts Mark could not stop talking about his dad, and the more often we worked out the more he told me about how big his dad was and how much bigger he wanted to grow. Mark said one day he hoped to get bigger than his dad, but he told me he wasn’t sure if he ever could. This was one of the only times Mark seemed insecure about anything, and I comforted him telling him one day he would surely outgrow his old man. Despite my word the more he talked about his dad, the more curious I got and the more I wanted to meet the man who could supposedly dwarf the muscle man in front of me. Was it really possible that his dad was that much bigger than Mark? Mark was already an alpha jock. Thinking about his dad being even bigger made my cock grow bigger in my pants every time. Luckily I wore tight spandex under my workout clothes at the gym, where Mark gushed the most about his dad the most. It kept my cock and balls in place. Thank god. As the end of the semester came around, Mark suddenly asked me if I would want to join him during spring break. We could continue working together at his house, in his dad’s home gym. I quickly agreed, mind taken up by the idea that I could finally meet his huge dad. “I would love to join you. You need a spotter after all I guess.” He smiled at me and I blushed. God does he realize that I’m gay? Chapter 2 - The Visit As I got there, Mark showed me around his house: his and his dad’s bedroom, the bathrooms, a jacuzzi, an office room and a big living room. The kitchen was also very roomy and there was enough food in it to feed an army. After the first pass through the house he opened a new door and told me to follow him downstairs to a private room. What hit me first was a very manly smell that caused me to get hard instantly. I was really surprised to not only find another bedroom but also a fully equipped gym with a huge mirror wall, a small juice booth with a lot of supplements and a big sofa in the corner of the room. Looking around I noticed that the bench and the squat rack were loaded and the bar was slightly bent from the heavy weights. I asked him if all the heavy weights and protein powder were his. He just smiled knowingly and said that he usually works out at the college or the nearby gym and not here. Everything I saw here was his dads’. I just looked at him in shock with my mouth open again. Suddenly after checking his phone he tells me that one of his friends had an emergency and needs a lift somewhere and asks if I would want to come, or if I'd prefer to stay and try to get settled. I told him that I would stay here and get comfortable, and I went over to the other room in the basement, which was supposedly my room. As I set down my bags and made my bed I hear Mark head out the door. Now that I am alone I walked around the gym, imagining how big his dad must be, using the ridiculously heavy weights I can see in the room. I start getting a boner as I see some used briefs and a torn tank top on the floor. My eyes almost pop out of their sockets when I see the shirt is a 3XL. It couldn’t be Mark’s, big as he was it would drape over him like a canopy. I step closer, picking it up and smelling the fabric. It has such a sweaty, manly smell and my penis gets hard at the combined scent and thought of what someone who wears that must look like, not to mention rip it. My cock keeps growing down my left leg, pinned inside my pants. I may not be big in other areas, but having a large cock was definitely something I reveled in. It would always makes me feel very proud of myself, especially recently in the gym locker room. I eventually decide I want to take a tour upstairs again, going up and finding the main laundry. My mind is racing about this legendary dad who must be a true beast, and now my eyes pick up on things I hadn’t done before. One whole cupboard was filled with every supplement I had heard of, and some that I didn’t even recognize. One even looked foreign. As I keep looking I went to the fridge. I had noted earlier that it was full, but looking closer I now saw that while there were some fresh produce, I saw a lot of meats of different varieties, as well as cottage cheese, greek yogurt. The cupboards had tuna and flaked chicken, lentils, beans and rice. I was never a bodybuilder myself but I did know enough out of sheer lust for them to know exactly what most of this stuff was. My god this is all protein, and high carb foods. Building blocks of muscle. Next I moved on to the living room. One large couch sat across from a very large TV. The couch itself looked very well used. It was odd, since it didn't look old per say but the middle cushion sagged down and looked about as flat as a pancake. A couple shaker cups littered the table, all empty and some of the dumbbells from downstairs were also up here. The lowest weight I saw was 80lbs and my dick did a twitch, trying to free itself from my pants. It took me both my hands and heaving back to lift the weight adequately, which sent my mind reeling. Ok so his dad brings weights up here for while he’s watching TV. If this is the lowest weight then it must be for the smallest muscles. Does he bicep curl these monsters?! I take my dick out of my pants and begin massaging it as I look at the den of someone who I figure must be from my imagination. I close my eyes a little as I slip into my own thoughts trying to visualize Mark’s dad. Picturing a masculine muscle guy like Mark and then morphing his muscles big enough to handle the weights around the house. *Boom* A loud noise came from the back door into the kitchen. I can hear heavy footsteps, and am not sure if it’s my roommate or not, but I know if anyone sees me like this I’m going to be in trouble. I shove my cock haphazardly into my pants and rush down the stairs as quietly as I can, though it didn’t end up being that quiet. I make it downstairs, winded. Looking down I noticed my cock is still half way down my left leg. I try to cover it up and make it disappear, but having a big cock also has some disadvantages. I hear the footsteps thumping again and it is making my heart race. My heart beating isn’t exactly helping the boner go down. God damnit. I listen now and think that the footsteps and creaking sound louder than when Mark left, making me think this must be the dad. My penis twitches, as if trying to find a way out so it can see for itself. I hear the footsteps approach the top of the stairs, and the stairs creaking heavy as he comes down them slowly. I go to hide in my room, too shy to be seen alone here with a huge boner, but too interested not to peek. One massive foot slams down into view, extending over the edge of the stairs. I can hear the stair creak as I watch even the shoe seem to cry out as weight is being transferred to that foot, the next foot comes down, this time I get to see the calf. The dad was clearly wearing shorts because his calf was exposed. Or he’s naked I think but shove the thought away, he’s wearing shoes after all. The man’s lower leg is thick and strong, and becomes so much bigger halfway up where his calf starts, exploding out in all directions. I can see the muscles bunch and work as weight moves to that leg instead. Two more steps and the bottom of his quads came into view, even his knees were thickly built, but it was still not enough to prepare me for how big his thighs would be. They came out hard at the knee, bulky and thickening as they traveled up his leg to what I was beginning to think of as the promised land. Unfortunately that’s where his shorts started and I couldn’t see the upper half of his thighs. I was so disappointed. I realized he was still coming down the stairs and turned away from the door. I was breathing heavy even just at what I had glimpsed. That was the biggest person I had ever seen in my life, bigger than any person I had seen in the gym. His size put him up there with the biggest that I had masturbated to online even, and he was real, just on the other side of the door. My cock was twitching into overdrive and I became scared I might cum right there. I had to turn around and take a break from watching him. Then I could finally hear him stepping down onto the landing and walking around a little. “Mark? Are you down here?” His voice was so deep, manly, almost like a growl. It had a little roughness to it, but otherwise it was a deep bass and strong. I almost moaned but I caught myself and covered my mouth. I prayed he wouldn’t come in here and see me like this. After a minute of walking around and moving some things around I can hear a grunt.I figured the dad must have started lifting some weights, and my curiosity got the better of my common sense. I slowly sneak over to the door and I turn to get a better look at what is happening inside the weight room. What I can see, I can barely believe. Right in the middle of the weight room stands the most massively muscled beast I have ever seen. My eyes didn’t know where to look at first, because all I saw were bulky muscles on top of more muscles. All of this was made even more clear because he was not wearing a shirt. The only clothing was the shorts that half covered his massive thighs. His back was so thick and wide, lats coming from so far out and curving down and in to a narrow waist. I was wondering why he didn’t fall over. My gaze fell lower, back to his quads. Holy shit. Those are fucking tree trunks. His thighs each were almost bigger than his waist. You could clearly see the outline of some really heavy Hamstrings, striations leading into his shorts. At the other end of where I knew those lines would lead were two globes that formed a large, hard as steel ass big enough the shorts looked like they were straining to hide it from my view. I followed the spine up his back, muscles exploding out to either side as they grabbed hold of the bones for support, but came out after for space to hold their mass. Huge traps popped out at the top of his back, and converged on the back of his head. If he had a neck, I couldn’t see it. To either side were two massive shoulders formed on that were almost the size of small watermelons and anchored two of the biggest, most ripped and vascular arms I have ever seen. He was doing curls, and swear I could see his arms swell up bigger with every rep. His triceps were so visible and thick, they were blocking my view of his biceps a little. Each curl was accompanied by soft moans and grunts that made my cock throb and twitch hard. Looking at that muscle beast was like seeing a living and breathing 3D anatomy chart, and I was studying it like I was about to take a final exam. After what seemed like an eternity, Dad put the weights down with a loud boom and went straight into a double biceps pose. FUUUUUCK. Those bicep peaks are almost higher than his head. He turned around slightly to find the best lighting to show off his huge guns, making the shadows between his biceps and triceps even darker and more pronounced. From where he was now I could see his face. He had a military cut head, cleanly buzzed that lead into a trimmed and well kept beard, thick but shorter. The square jawline was still visible and made his face look so much harder. Altogether, he was the picture of masculinity and handsomeness. He turned towards the mirror again and began shaking his quads. I could hear the muscles move on his leg left and right until he flexed them, at which point the thigh became a solid mass of crevices and peaks of strength. Fuck he’s so fucking massive. Is he even human? Big, thick muscular legs were always a huge turn on for me, and his were like something beyond what even I had dreamed were possible. He straightened up and stretched a little and my heart skipped a beat. He might be leaving the room, and there I was in the doorway, staring at him pose without making a sound or introducing myself. My heart almost stopped as I thought he caught me. Then I was shocked to see what happened next. Before my eyes I saw the dad lower his shorts and pull out a semi hard cock. It flopped big and heavy into his hand, almost as big as the silicone dick men online, but I’ve heard that doing that takes away the sensitivity, and judging by his face at his own touch that was not the case. He swirled it around once or twice with one hand, the other posing and cupping his own muscle until finally he was at full mast, magnificent and huge jutting from his body. Veins twisted around it more so than on his arms, which I hadn’t thought possible, leading to a mushroom head that looked so swollen at the tip of it all, adding an extra 2 inches to the length. His hands were clearly big but even still his dick was large in them. He brought down both hands on his dick and even then couldn’t cover the whole shaft. He begins jerking it off, and before I even realise mine is out of my pants and I’m doing the same. Eventually the dad returned to posing and jacking off, making the whole display hotter as I stroke my member, trying to savour what I saw without making noise. Eventually the beast reaches down and his hand goes to his asshole, putting one large finger in. I moan and my body buckles, ready for the next part, although everything shuts down when both our eyes open at the noise. Dad looks at me, dick in his hand, and steps back, falling over and hitting his head on a bench. OMG I don’t know which is worse, the first time he saw me I was jacking to him, or that now I hurt him. I tuck my dick away as best I can in a flash and rush over, nervous but also needing to check if he's ok. “Man I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have been doing that, you were just working out and-” I decide it might be better to stop talking about it and I help him up, biting my lip at the feel of his back muscles hard and flexed in my hand and the heaviness of his weight as I try to help him. “Fuck man where did you even come from?” He shakes his head. “You can’t just jack off to the sight of people man. Who are you even?” As I was about to say something we both hear footsteps coming down the stairs. “You down here Dad? Tommy?” We both look at each other and then at our hard dicks. I panic and grab a heavy dumbbell nearby, just lifting it enough to clear the Dad’s body and get it to the other side of him, taking my body with it. I land over his crotch with my own, both our dicks rubbing together as the weight thuds on the other side. “Shit man I’m so sorry.” I look over at the dad from where I am as Mark enters the gym room. “I thought I could handle the weight, I guess I was just cocky, and maybe wanted to try to show off, you were throwing these weights around like it was nothing. I should just go probably.” The dad looks down at me, confused but when his son enters the room and doesn’t notice their boners he clues into what I did. “Buddy listen, it’s fine I guess I can see where you are coming from, can’t say I might not have done the same in your position but man you gotta do things the right way. Talk to me and tell me where you are at, and we might be able to work something out, but promise me you will never try something like that again.” “I promise sir.” My god did he imply he might be gay? He may have been keeping up the act, but what if he meant it! Mark coughs a little form where he stands. “Were you going to get off him Tommy?” I look down at our crotches, neither of our dicks having gone down at all, especially with the added pressure of the other dicks against it. I reach the hand away from Mark down on the dad’s abs, as if for support then i fake a slip. My hand shoots down the dad’s shorts and I grab his dick, it’s so veiny and huge, and pulses at the new visitor but I try to keep my head. I quickly shove it around and behind one of his thighs. It offers some resistance but it’s long enough that I manage it quickly and recover my hand. I get up, facing directly away from Mark and tuck my dick into my waistband and over it with a thankfully loose shirt. I turn to Mark, seeing if my trick had worked. “Mark, your dad hit his back pretty hard off the bench just now. Do you have like some muscle relaxing gel or something?” Mark thinks deeply for a minute. He doesn’t seem to notice we are rock hard, that’s a good sign at least. After a moment the dad pipes up, “In the upstairs medicine cabinet. The boys right. Could you go grab it for me please Mark?” Mark nods and heads off up the stairs. “That was some quick thinking there Tommy. I’m Rent by the way.” He holds out his large hand and I shake it, enjoying how hard and calloused it is and how big it feels against mine. “You are the new roommate I hear so much about. Not much for first impressions are you?” I look terrified now that Mark is gone. I have returned back to this giant of a man, the man of my dreams and fantasies berating me because I couldn’t keep it in my pants. That is until he reaches down and grabs my dick with one hand, his own with the other, and begins jacking us both off. “What are you doing! I’m so sorry but I’m really confused now!” My mind is racing, the big man’s actions not matching his words. “Mark is going to be back down here any second and these beasts aren’t going to go soft in that time unless we cum. We were both at the edge anyways.” He picks up the speed he is going, ripped bulbous biceps lengthening and tightening with each motion. He plays with his chest a little and smiles as he looks over at me and shows off. That proved too much for me and I came on the floor in front of me. Now Rent began to focus more on himself. He spread his legs and began using his other hand on his dick as well. I could hear Mark upstairs and knew we didn’t have too much longer. I go over to Rent and put my fragile thin arm next to his. Mine looks like the bone that MIGHT be strong enough to support the sheer muscle Rent had. I put my leg against his for good measure and show him how big he is. “You’re so big, I can’t believe it. I can’t even compare, your arm could hold 5 of mine, legs too.” Rent grunts as his eyes roll back. Thick white goop shoots from the end of his cock against the wall and floor. I so want to enjoy the sight but I already messed up once today because of my lust and I was not about to do it again. I grab some nearby towels and make quick work wiping up our mess. As I pass I nudge Rent who is coming back to his senses. “Hunch over, you’re hurt remember?” Rent nods his head, traps stretching and then bunching at the movement and he bends over as if his back was weak. Seems more just like a realistic representation of how that big upper part would weigh down over that thin waist. Those abs are big, but it looks ridiculous to think they can hold up that giant piece of perfection. Mark comes back just as I drop the towels into the hamper, the hamper itself has a scent I recognize as a cum smell. Clearly this was common fair, except for the interruptions. The idea of him coming down regularly to work out and then worship his own muscles was so hot I felt my dick ask if it was time for round 2. I pushed the idea from my head and started to think of gross things that would keep me soft. Mark hands over the gel stuff to his dad and gets a thank you. Rent excuses himself to go apply it, saying he should cut his workout short due to his back. “Thanks for this Mark, and it was… interesting meeting you Tommy. Welcome to my home.” He smiles a little and leaves. “Do you want to work out then?” Mark asks. “Man I think after how badly I botched that I better call it too. I don’t feel hurt, but I don’t want to risk it” Mark wished me well and I went over to my room. I couldn’t believe what had just happened and my mind was exhausted. I crawled into my bed for a nap. I fell asleep with a boner at the thoughts of living with Rent, and also at the sounds of Mark working out in the other room. Chapter 3 - My first night I had gone in my room and jacked off once or twice more. I was in heaven, but the idea of living with that muscle monster, along with Mark who wasn’t bad looking himself. He had been right, I could see where he got his looks and muscle from. I even found myself cursing his mother for diluting the genes he got from his father. How could she even leave someone like that?! He’s hot, but not only that he seemed nice. I took a nap, and when I got up I could smell food cooking. I was led by my nose upstairs to find the big man himself stirring a pot full of what was now a distinct enough smell that I could tell it was chili. Mark wasn’t around and Rent hadn’t noticed me. I was overcome by embarrassment, and began to go back down the stairs. “You don’t have to run away. It’s fine. I’m making food for all of us, and it will be ready in a couple minutes. May as well sit down at the table.” The deep voice assaulted me from behind. I looked down the stairs. He sounded like this was weird for him too. I debated just leaving anyways. I could pack up my bag, travel back home for spring break. I sighed and came back around. I avoided looking at the muscle man, walking up, only to see his feet, bare, thick and covered in veins, like I should have known they’d be. Dear god those things are some of the biggest I’ve ever seen. Could there be something about him that didn’t completely arouse me? I blink but keep looking down, figuring this was better than seeing the rest of him. “Sir, I am so sorry for what I did. I shouldn’t have done that. It was disgusting and disrespectful and completely inappropriate. I can pack my bag tonight and head out in the morning, if you want.” I heard him give a deep sigh, and watched his weight shift. “Listen kid. I’ve thought about it and I get it. I mean I was jacking off to myself too. Not gonna lie the idea the idea you were jacking off at the sight of me was pretty hot too.” I look up, Rent is blushing a little, but look right back down. “And gotta admit man you knew exactly how to press my buttons to finish me off.” I smile a little and give a shy uncertain laugh. It shocked me when his hand came into view and grabbed my chin, turning it up. He did it quickly, but even then my eyes seemed to work quickly catching each part of him, thick legs that had been in my peripherals. Tight waist and huge bulge that his shorts draped over. Waist coming out wide quickly with lats, and then the chest kicking in and expanding his physique in every direction. Traps coming upleading from far out to latch onto the back of Rent’s head. Rent’s face was not something I had had a lot of time to take in, but now he was forcing me to look at it. It was square and strong, even the muscles here looking ripped a little. A thick jaw led down to a strong chin. A short, well kept beard was there following the jawline, and going around his lips, which were thick and full. A relatively small nose took up the middle of his face, and above those were deep brown eyes, like the bark of a strong oak or maple. Even his forehead was almost squared off, and he had a military buzz cut. Over his temples and on some of his forehead even at rest I could see veins snaking their way about. This face would scare me shitless if it were angry at me. This face wasn’t angry though. Rent was looking into my eyes and had a slight smile. He still had some colour in his cheeks from blushing a second ago. “You don’t have to leave. You can stay, and maybe I can even show you how to pick up a weight properly without dropping it on me” I interject, “That was on purpose to cover you before Mark came in” Rent’s smile widens a little, as if about to laugh. “Do you mean to say if we went downstairs right now you could lift that dumbbell and not drop it? If you say yes I will call your bluff, so pick your words carefully” I think about it, I had been in a rush and only had to lift it a little and did so quickly. I remember that it had actually been quite difficult and almost didn’t get it all the way over Rent’s side. “Fine, I admit it was very heavy.” Rent put his hand on my shoulder, his smile turning sweeter. “Admitting that is the first step. Good job. I don’t think I could throw you out of the house anyways, your face is too cute.” Rent removed his hand from me, and I felt a weight lift off me. Had just his hand been that heavy?! My dick twinged a little. Fuck this is going to be a tough week, I think as I watch Rent prepare three bowls of chili from the pot. Two are regular size, but one is definitely a mixing bowl he is filling up high. Rent sees your gaze and laughs. “It takes a lot of food to keep this ship sailing. Don’t you worry, I won’t get fat off it.” He sets the two bowls down and calls for Mark. I sit down and watch him walk and grab the last bowl. My god he’s almost waddling, each ass cheek filling the space the other is leaving behind. I am very thankful I am already sitting down at the table, because I am getting boned up just watching. Mark comes out of his room to sit with us. “Dear god dad got enough chili there?” Rent laughs at his sons comment. “Is everyone getting on my case about how much I’m eating? I plan to have dessert later too…” Mark laughs, while I’m just struck by these two muscle men talk. “Dad you eat like that and you will get fat. Even you can only handle so many calories.” “Tell you what little man o’ mine. You get to be as big as me without eating this much, and I’ll reconsider. Until then keep lifting your kiddie weights.” I would have suspected this to be said arrogantly, but Rent had a sweet tone to his voice and Mark laughed so deeply, I figured that was just their relationship. Mark looked over at me. “What does that make the weights Tommy uses dad?” I watched as Marks chair moves and he almost falls out of it. “I did not raise a son who makes fun of others or feels superior because he can lift more. We kid, but you will not make fun of someone who is doing their best and is starting out.” Rent looked over at me, eyes kind. “I’m sorry about that. We tease but I don’t make fun when people are lifting heavy, no matter the weight.” I blink, having really not taken offense to anything. “That’s ok. Honestly it’s not like I don’t think the same when I lift with Mark there. I bet with your physique-” I stumble on the word a little, a mental image of everything I had seen coming to mind, but I only slow for a second. “-with your physique I’m sure he must feel like I do.” Mark nods in agreement. Rent keeps asking questions about me, and about how we are both doing at school. Jokes were thrown around all night and I actually managed to distract myself in the conversation enough for me to get up in the end and not be worried they might see me hard. Rent excused himself after dinner was done to finish the workout I had interrupted and Mark and I cleaned the dishes. I washed and Mark put them away. I thought about Rent downstairs lifting, and occasionally heard a grunt come from the stairwell. “Sounds like a monster coming from down there, right?” I look over at Mark. He was also staring down there. “My big man is just so strong and powerful. I look up to him a lot.” My tongue works for a sec. “Makes sense, he is something else man. Not how I pictured him though.” Mark looks confused. “Didn’t I tell you he was bigger than even me?” Mark goes into a double bicep pose. “Hard as that might be to believe.” My jaw drops a little. It was easy to forget next to Rent how large and muscular Mark was, his biceps like two cannonballs held in a boat of tricep. I look away and try to recover. “That’s not what I meant. I meant he’s not cocky. He just seems cool. He’s aware of who he is, but he doesn’t flaunt it that much, except to you.” At that I turn to him. “But that seems like it’s to put you in your place, and motivate you.” “Put me in my place? What do you mean?” I look over to him, and hold up his arm, he flexes intuitively. “You are amazing physically, and I bet you always have been, especially with an influence like that in your life. You are also a great guy, so don’t take it personally when I tell you you are arrogant man. Makes people feel lesser.” I kind of zone out remembering being bullied by people like Mark. I look up and see Mark’s face concerned. “Dude, you know I don’t feel that way. I flex because I’m proud of what I’ve worked for. To be honest I kinda thought you liked it when I flexed my muscles too.” He doesn’t seem as hurt as perhaps disappointed. “Mark. Are you crazy? I do like when you flex, and I love seeing how proud you are of it. You deserve to be. You are huge, but I know you’re huge because I am smaller.” I pull the sink plug and watch the dirty water swirl away. “Anyways I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s not for you to worry about me. You develop a thick skin when you are small.” I dry my hands and wander off downstairs. That was more intense then I meant for it to be. Hope Mark doesn’t take that too seriously. I need to breathe, I will check with him in the morning. I pass by the gym, and see Rent working out. I stop and see him bench pressing, chest muscles heaving up as he reracks the weight. I quickly turn around and head off to my room, closing the door behind me, trying hard not to think about the massive man there. I lean against the door, and am shocked to hear deep thumps against it, absorbed into my back. I turn around and open the door. Rent is there, taking up the entire space. He is a little sweaty and in a stringer that reveals a lot of his upper body, thick, slick, bulky muscle hanging out huffing and puffing. “Listen Tommy, come work out with me.” My jaw drops. “Work out? Next to you? Man I can’t even compare to you, why do you want to work out with me?” Rent just smiles sweetly. “It doesn’t matter how much you lift. I want to see what kind of stuff you are made of. I feel like I can really tell what a man is like by how he lifts.” He breathes deeply “By which I mean ‘how’ not ‘how much’. No ego lifting, even with me there to spot.” God despite his body I could just get lost in that smile of his. Rent turns and stalks off with his wide back, moving his legs out as he walks. I began to get hard again, but at this point in this house it was becoming the norm. I was nervous, but it wasn’t like Rent hadn’t already seen it. I came in and he did notice. “Doesn’t take much for you, huh? Try not to blow on my bench, K?” I blush, shifting it away. Did Rent watch me adjust myself? Fuck now I’m imagining things. I look at the bench, loaded with several large plates on either side, and then a coupe small ones. 700lbs?! Just casually?! There were safety bars in place on the power cage, although I had a hunch that they weren’t intended to save you from a 700lb barbell falling. Rent began taking the weight off one side, and I mimicked him on the other. “How much weight you want?” His face seemed to study me. Fucking beast is testing me. I think for a second. “Empty bar.” Rent smiles. “Smart boy! Sounds good to me.” Rent finishes and leans on the wall. I take off all my weight and slide under the bar. I check my form and position, and then grab the bar tightly. I unrack and bring the bar down slowly, and then shoot it up. Keep your shoulders on the bench, that’s the thing you are always messing up. I feel them coming up a little, and I readjust. The weight isn’t trying, but if this is a test like I wanted an ‘A’. Rent began to straddle me so he was in view. Holy shit the view from down here… FOCUS! “What are you thinking about right now Tommy?” “I’m trying to keep my shoulders on the bench.” I breathe, and then continue. “They always ride up and off the bench.” Rent lightly touches the bar the next time it comes up and shifts it down closer to him. I follow it with my eyes making me look more at him. FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS. I could tell what my penis wanted me to focus on. “Try arching your back, activating your lats to keep your shoulders down, and pushing it up here over your shoulders, not over your neck.” I make my eyes look at the bar instead of Rent, which was no easy feat. I control the bar down to my mid chest, and then push it up, this time more slowly to focus on the bar path making it come over my shoulders and then stop. The entire time I was straining my lats in the hopes my shoulders wouldn’t rise up. I rerack and breathe a little, it hadn’t been much weight but I did quite a few reps with the bar. Sweat was already forming on me and I was a little embarrassed at having such a little weight get to me. I slowly increased the weight until I got up to 135. Rent went to straddle me again before I unracked. I am going to hate myself for saying this. “Rent buddy why are you going over me, instead of above my head?” “I actually always feel a little cramped inside the cage, figured I could still help from out here. I don’t spot a lot of people other than Mark sometimes.” “Rent… You know I’m gay… and you know you turn me on… It’s a little distracting having your body hanging over me. If you really do want me to lift my best you may have to not be there.” I blush so red I feel like I am turning into a tomato. Rent looks down at himself, as if seeing his muscles for the first time, and then realizing what I was saying. “Damn, I guess that’s a good point.” Rent gets off me and I feel my lust pull me towards him. I force myself not to move. Fuck but having his body hanging over me was amazing. I unrack the weight, wobbling a little. I steady myself and bring the bar down, touch my chest, and then press it back up. Shoulders on the bench, touch mid chest, push to over the shoulders, no further. I press it back up about 5 times before my arms start to get weak. I force myself to go for one more, and before I am done Rent is back over me, hands under the bar without touching it. “Go for one more. I am right here to catch it.” I don’t even have enough breath to remind him how distracting he is. I take a big gulp of a breath, fix my position and lower the bar, shaking as I go down and touch it against my mid chest. It rests there a little heavier than I meant it to, but I begin pressing it up, getting it a little less than halfway before the bar stops moving. Don’t crane your neck, don’t compromise your form. Keep pushing. I push and push but the bar doesn’t move and it begins to fall again. Rent’s large hands go under the bar and lightly touch it, taking a couple pounds of weight. I redouble my efforts and concentrate on squeezing my chest. Rent wasn’t pulling that hard, but he was doing enough I got past the sticking point and locked out my elbows. Rent pushed the bar back into the rack and I let it go. “Well a couple more sets like that and I’ll be toast.” I laugh a little, and feel my body touch his thighs. Fuck this position is torture. Rent looks down at me, face of joy. “You gave that set your all, I’m proud of you.” I give him an accusatory look. “Didn’t I mention how unhelpful you holding your body over me is? Kind of gives my brain the wrong idea.” Rents facial expressions change in a second. Where before it was purely one of happiness, now there was something else… close to a hunger. He leans over, grabbing some bench supports for hand positioning as his body hangs horizontally over mine. “Who said it was the wrong idea?” Dear god I know that look. It’s not hunger, it’s lust! Rent lowered himself onto me. I was stunned. “Boy I already know you like me. My son doesn’t know, but lately my tastes have become more… Well more like you.” Rent was beginning to lay part of his body on me, pressing my shoulder blades into the bench better than the bar had. Rent had his nads on the bar above me, his huge hard hands resting on it as two thick bulky arms hung over me, lowering his head towards mine. “You know, if you want to make out with an old fart like me” My body almost moved on it’s own, not that I would have stopped it. I bent my head forward, and touched our lips together. Rent’s lips were firm but soft, working with mine as he lowered his head down so I could lay back. ... TO BE CONTINUED...

Marcos had just woke up. He was lying on his bed confused. He felt the heat of the huge body next to his own. This was the first time he woke up and John was still there… sleeping. Slowly he turned his head and faced the back of the giant. His right hand touched the hard wall of muscle that was his back. It was twice as big as his and huge amounts if power surged from it. John's body wasn't covered by any blanket and by any clothes. For Marcos (that after all is a straight man) it was a beautiful sight, a kind of admiration someone has to a well done painting or a gorgeous statue. An aesthetic appreciation, but Marcos was starting to feel something else that he couldn't quite figure out. Marcos took out his hand and continued to look at the giant. His eyes wondered through John's entire body. He already knew his roommate was tall, but seeing himself side by side to the giant it made him feel small. -Are you going to take shower?- Marcos felt the bed bend as John turned around his massive body. When he finished the little guy was facing to monstrous pecs twice as big as his hands. - Yes… why?- His eyes and John's met when he said that. The little guy had forgotten how gorgeous he was. -I have to take a shower too- he said quite demanding -well… but i have to get to school and- John grabbed Marcos’ right hand and his left arm and pinned him down. He put himself on top with only one meter between the two. Marcos was surprised by the move, he now had the giant on top of him, completely dominating him. He could see his gigantic arms tensed keeping his body up but that wasn't the weirdest thing. John moved forward closing the gap between him and his submissive friend. Marcos could feel the one feet cock of the muscle beast pressing his abdomen. ------------------------------------------------------------ Marcos could hear the running shower as he got undressed. His body had changed the last few weeks. He had gotten much leaner maybe with a little bit less muscle. He had an athletic body thought. Perfect cut muscle with thin arms like the ones you see in models. But his bulging physique had disappeared as all of his body hair. All is all, it would seem like he shaved all of it away. Although all of these changes are really noticeable the most prominent feature of his body was now his ass. A perfect bubble butt with round gorgeous cheeks. His pants now stretched obscenely every time he walked and the street. He opened the shower curtain revealing John's body at its peak. Water runned through his huge muscle and 8pack. To his lemon size balls and tree trunk legs. Marcos got in the shower pressing himself to the giant's abdomen. -this thing is getting huge- the rumble of his low voice made everything trembl as his huge manly hands grabbed Marcos’ ass. His hands ,that were as big as the little guy's cheeks, pulled up the small body without effort till the two of them were face to face. - You need to learn to obey- Marcos felt a thick finger enter his ass and he grabbed to John's shoulders for support. - You are my tiny bitch- as Marcos cummed all over his roommate a little smile appeared in John's face.

Sometimes I Drink My Dad’s Cum… by vertical -Just my riff on the perennial favourite of a college guy coming home to his massive father... PART 2: ...And Sometimes, I Find Out My Dad's a Growing Freak... >> --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I hadn’t seen my parents all year. Going to college halfway across the country will do that, I guess. It’s not like I didn’t have an opportunity to, it’s just… eh, I wasn’t too attached to my folks, I suppose? The thought of spending my Thanksgivings and Christmases with them over the ‘self-exploration’ I was doing at the time… And by self-exploration, I do mean throwing myself to the meat-market and getting my hands on any sausage I could get. I considered myself a fairly attractive fellow, jet black hair, sharp facial features and a strong, almost-athletic body from playing varsity in high school. It also didn’t hurt that the guys I’ve bedded couldn’t get enough of the 7” of heat I was packing, whether I was the top or the bottom. Course, I did have a type, I’d shack up with just about any cute dude, whether he be a twink, hunk or a bear. But my ‘type’, well, for me, size was my prize. A guy hairier, taller, more hung and way more massive, that was my kind of man. I’d gotten myself a few, my favourite of course being the football team’s starting middle linebacker; I’d let him rush me down and mow me over any day of the week. I at least had the decency to be embarrassed about it now. I loved my parents, but had yet to come out to them. Dad was your typical 50-something, loved to watch football at one point in his life, probably loved Mom passionately at one point in his life, and subsequently lost all motivation once I was born. I’d never say he was a bad dad, but he was the comes-home-from-his-blue-collar-job-and-drinks-a-beer-while-lazing-on-the-couch kind of guy. And it showed, he’d gotten portly over the years. Mom was more animated, she took care of the house, she took care of me growing up. If I had to say it, I’d say I got most of my good looks from her side of the family. I realize that not coming home for the holidays, or calling my parents or just about any semblance of keeping in contact with my family may have come to bite me in the ass. I spoke with Dad on the phone about picking me up at the airport last week. He said ‘yes,’ his voice unusually gravelly, maybe annoyed. And lo and behold, I’m waiting at the arrivals terminal, my two bags of my belongings in tow. Fifteen minutes late, I was okay, sure they were just running late, gosh the traffic must be horrendous. An hour, okay, hehe, well maybe the traffic was really bad. But three hours late? Well, maybe it was my just desserts. I didn’t have the most money in the world, but maybe I could get the folks to reimburse me for the cab. I stare out the window of the cab as we pull into the driveway of my house. The memories coming back, how Mom and Dad would tend to their garden, they always grew flowers. Looking at the lawn, it was surprisingly bare, by May it was always a spectacle of colour. Maybe they were pinching pennies this year, after all, they chipped in quite a bit to send me off to college. I pay the cabby with credit, sending a silent prayer skywards that Mom or Dad would take the hit for me later. My driver nods to me as he helps me take out my bags from the trunk. As he pulls out of the driveway to the house, I realize that Dad’s car was there, but Mom’s wasn’t. Shit, they must’ve been out to get me. I pick up my phone and call Dad, waiting for the call to go through. Nothing. I call Mom, but the it doesn’t go through. Ugh, I hope they can forgive me. It’s then that I realize that my old car is gone. Well, double shit, they must’ve sold it off. That lessened the guilt. I fumbled through my pocket for my copy of the key to the house, hoping at least that stayed the same. As the mechanism clicks, I sigh a little in relief. However, as I pull my bags into the house, I notice something off. My mother always ran a tight ship, everything always spick and spam, even after she had you, she went right back to work and still did all the chores. But, from the looks of it, the living room was in disrepair, cups and bottles of some sort of drink strewn across the coffee table. Gross. I walked towards the kitchen, disgusted by the similar amounts of discarded bottles. Curious, I pick one up. Gainer shakes? What the heck did my parents need these for, neither was underweight… I look around some more, accidentally stumbling against what looked like an empty tub of what must’ve been whey protein. That’s when I hear something coming from the basement. The door was ajar and as I neared, I could hear the rhythmic noise of metal against metal. We had a weight set down there, was someone using it? I could hear someone, or something snarling. “Hello? Mom? Dad?” I called out. I hear the clanking stop and suddenly a loud thud. I felt the ground shake and I wondered just how much weight was being tossed around down there. But the ground didn’t stop trembling. I felt heavy plods making their way up the stairs. As it grew nearer, the floor began to rumble and I could hear the cups and empty bottles rattling in the living room behind me. I gulp as I could make out heavy breathing, the sound deep and sonorous. I was not prepared for the beast of a man that emerged from the door. I felt myself freeze in place, the only thing my body did was send blood to my lower head as I trained my eyes on the veritable god in front of me. My dad. The last time I saw him, he was around my height. He stood at a respectable 5’8”, just short enough for me to be eye level with his receding hairline. His body would’ve looked frail if not for the generous amount of fat padding his arms and midsection. But the monster of a man before me stood at least a good 7 or so inches taller than me, eyes level with his heavily stubbled, masculine chin. The beast was wearing nothing but a white wifebeater and baby blue workout shorts. Both were painted on and slicked with his sweat, both practically translucent. Those shorts did nothing to hide the prodigious bulge contained within the basket of his shorts, the band slightly distended forward, a dense forest of dark pubes peeking through. And that description was without how amazingly muscular his physique had become. His hands were gnarled with veins that ran up his forearms, slabs of muscle in stark contrast to the network of vessels dancing across their surface in a dizzying display. His upper arms were corded with giant boulders. His biceps swollen with mass, along with his triceps, were so bloated with power they were thicker than my waist. His shoulders, slick with sweat and reddened from all the blood pulsing through them, were so wide that he had to turn to his side as he ducked through the doorway and out into the hall. The air practically steamed off his hairy, immense pectorals, the slabs of meat rising and falling with each breath, the forest of hair swaying with each heavy exhale from his nostrils. Below the enormous canyon between his behemothian pectorals was a thick gut, swollen with muscle and fat, offering his build the look of a seasoned powerlifter. My eyes were immediately drawn to his basket, plastered tight to his package. His balls alone more than filled the crotch. I could easily make out the huge log of meat. He had pushed it to the side, the shaft in stark relief against his leg. His thighs were thick, though less defined than his arms, ample pockets of fat deposited to his inner thigh obscured the striations. Though the heads of the quads were clearly visible. Diamond hard calves stuck out of his legs, his giant feet encased in shoes larger than I had ever seen. I looked up to see his face filled with concern. His eyes dart to the stovetop. “Aw, geez, 4:32,” he whimpered, his voice deep and booming. “What time was I supposed to pick you up, Corey?” He raises a hand up to rub the back of his neck, the motion causing a thick, pert nipple to reveal itself from behind the fabric of his sweat-soaked shirt. The bottom of the shirt lifted up to reveal his hairy gut, ripples of hard, dense muscle lied underneath, their relief muted by the ample fat. “Noon… Dad,” I gulped back. Despite his almost… feral good looks, the man still held the gentle nature I’d known him for. “Aw, shucks,” the beast of a man huffed. “I’m real sorry, kiddo.” He closed the gap and wrapped those enormous arms around me in a tight hug. I felt lightheaded, his grip was so powerful. As was his musk. I got a whiff of his overwhelmingly masculine scent as he crushed me to his torso, my nose buried in between his thick pectorals. I almost cried in protest, but my mouth was filled with body hair the moment I parted my lips. “I missed you so much,” he cooed. I could feel my whole world shaking as he chuckled lightly. I struggled to bring my arms around him, my hand accidentally brushing up against his massive prick as I lifted my hands up and around his waist. Gods, I had to resist the urge to linger with my hand there. How could one man, no less my own father, have become this… this titan? “I missed you too, Dad,” I coughed, the combined effect of his manly aroma and the strength at which he was crushing me with had left me short of breath. He got the message and eased up, letting me crane my neck up to see his dark eyes almost melting into mine. Despite becoming a mountain of a man, I could sense the pride in that look. That he was prouder that I was his son than of the body of a god he had managed to build for himself. I just hoped he didn’t feel the boner poking out of my own crotch. “Ugh, I'm sorry, Corey, I completely lost track of time… you know, work stuff,” he apologized, his eyes open and honest, if a bit nervous. He coughs and releases me. I quickly turn to my side as to hide the 7” of embarrassment in my jeans. He makes his way to the kitchen and grunts. He bends over to get something out of the pantry, the muscles in his ass and hamstrings flaring. It was the first time I got a good look at his back as well, the crevasses and landscape rippling as he moved even in the slightest. He pulled out a whole tub of protein and began to unscrew the lid, the muscles in his forearms dancing. I gave him an incredulous look. “Dad… you install refrigerators,” I said. I watched him pause, and he chuckled. “How’d you, you know, get so big?” I ask nervously. I see my dad pause, as if holding his breath. I wonder if he hadn’t planned for this possibility, or maybe he forgot. He turns slightly to me, his broad chin barely peeking over traps that were almost up to his ears. He sighs as he removes the protective lining, a wisp of powder wafting in the air. “Well,” he starts. He takes a huge, empty shaker and gives it a whiff, his nose scrunching a little bit. He turns around and washes the insides and I get another look at the massive amounts of muscle of his back work in harmony. “Late October I threw my back after a long day at work,” he chuckled, struggling to reach back and touch the small of his back. “Your mother took me to the doctor an’ they gave me an injection, hydrocortisone they claimed. Over the next few days I felt better than ever.” He rolled his massive shoulders and I watched his muscled back writhe. “Didn’t think it’d do this to me!” he boomed jovially. He shook the water out of the bottle and made his way to the fridge. “Can you imagine your pops at over 400 pounds?” he rumbled, tilting his head to side and flashing me a devilishly handsome smile. Jesus, 400 pounds. I felt myself instantly chub up. I stepped back into the living room and found an empty spot on the couch, kicking empty bottles of gainer shakes out of the way. I had to hide the raging boner in my pants, tugging at the bottom of my shirt to drape over my crotch. My dad, gods, he was a monster! He began to mix an almost absurd amount of whey powder into what looked like milk. I couldn’t tell as he went down a line of half open cannisters, dumping chalky white powders into the mix, resulting in something resembling a shake, but with noticeable lumps. I reeled in disgust as he brought the concoction to his lips. His Adam’s apple protruded from his corded neck as he began to guzzle the slurry down, visible chunks of undissolved powder interspersed. The greedy beast was too impatient to mix the shake properly. I also couldn’t help but notice that as his gut protruded slightly from all the liquid he’s ingesting, his package began to stir, the dark tip of his cockhead poking slightly through the top band of his shorts. He quickly adjusts himself, the beast gulping and flashing me a little look, maybe hoping I didn’t see him do that. “How is Mom taking all of this, hehe?” I ask nervously. Immediately, my dad’s face drops. He slowly puts the empty shaker bottle down and begins to prepare another. His eyes droop slightly as he goes through the motions. “Your mom… left,” he replies glumly. He mixes more milk with his powders and gave them a quick shake. He began to chug greedily once more, his Adam’s apple bobbing, the beast rubbing his distended stomach as he fed. His cock lurched from within the confines of his shorts as he gorged himself. It would’ve been enough to get me to start stroking myself, however, the news was setting in. “Excuse me?” I blurted incredulously. My boner was slowly going away but still present enough that I couldn’t stand up from the couch. “What do you mean she left?” I stammered. “Why didn’t you tell me?” My dad put the shaker in his hand down and took a step forward, the space between the kitchen and living room suddenly small, almost claustrophobic. “Corey, please… let me explain. We didn’t want to worry you with school and everything.” The giant loomed over me before making room on the couch beside me, taking up two seats. The seat I was sitting on rises an inch or so from his immense weight. “Your mother left for a lot of reasons,” he sighed. “After the injection, I started getting larger. Ahem, everywhere.” Without inhibition, he flips the band of his shorts down. My eyes bug out when what quite possibly was the largest cock in the world flopped out. It was huge, I knew that, but in the open it was even bigger. Thick as a log of salami, it seemingly grew an inch in length once free from its cotton confines. “Jesus, Dad, okay, I would’ve believed you,” I yelped. “Yeah, but now you know the extent,” he chuckled, melancholic in tone. “In the beginning it was pretty awesome.” He looked down and began to stuff the sausage back into its casing. “We… uh… ahem, we were having a great time. Until maybe Thanksgiving, it started being a hassle. By New Year’s she couldn’t take it any more. And I started getting a little too horny for her.” He sighed as he played with the giant piece of meat through his shorts. “I quit my job, couldn’t focus.” “You quit?” I said incredulously. “I… I got complaints because of indecency. I got canned in February,” he admitted, a blush crossing his cheeks. “Your mother left me after that. Said she couldn’t support me to just jerk off all day long.” I could see the tears welling in the corner of my dad’s eyes. “She’s right you know, I couldn’t control myself, had to… still hafta jerk off couple of times a day. Blessin’ and a curse this thing here is.” “Shit, dad. Let me talk to her,” I whimpered. “No, she changed her phone an’ everything. Up and left and couldn’t figure out how to contact her. She wanted nothing from me and nothing to do with me,” he grumbled. “How… Mom’s not supporting you, you lost your job, how are you supporting yourself?” I asked. “I… um, set up an office downstairs. Working from home now,” he replied. Once again, he motioned to rub the back of his neck, inadvertently giving me quite the display of muscle. “It’s uh, rather expensive equipment, I’d rather you not play around in there, okay?” I just nodded, and he tousled my hair before standing up, causing the weight of the couch to shift again. “I’m going to go take a shower,” he announced as he made his way up the stairs, the wooden frame protesting underneath. “Why don’t you go get unpacked and I’ll go out and get us some dinner, champ?” he asked, a gentle smile on his face. I give him a curt nod and he disappears up the stairs. I move like a zombie, my world going numb as I drag my luggage up the stairs. I could hear the water running and the rhythmic squelching sound of flesh on flesh. I cursed under my breath as I felt myself chubbing up once again, but I pressed on into my room. As I closed the door, a loud roar emanated from the washroom. I think the old man forgot I was here already, having been by himself for so long. I largely ignore the loud wailing coming from the bathroom and busy myself in dusting off my furniture, putting away my clothes and changing my sheets. It would’ve been a nice time to recollect memories, if not for the sexbeast beating off in the shower. Ungh, it. Keeps. Getting. BIGGER! I sat down on my bed, adjusting my erection so that it didn’t pinch. I figured it’d be something I’d have to do a lot of nowadays. I picked up the picture of me with my parents. As hot as my dad had become… I realized all too late that I missed us as a family. I began to death spiral in my thoughts, putting the blame on myself on not coming back for Thanksgiving, thinking I could’ve saved my family, kept Mom from leaving… I must’ve been reminiscing for a while, because Dad knocked on the door before peeping his head in. He was still a bit wet, his t-shirt looking like it was meant to fit him maybe a couple months ago, his shorts fared no better, his bulging assets always on lewd display. I put the picture down, but he catches me looking at it. “I miss her too,” he admitted, a little pain in his voice. “It’s all my fault, Corey.” “No, she chose to leave you… us, I guess,” I laughed. I wiped away the tears and stood up. “C’mon, Dad, you better go pick up some dinner, I haven’t eaten all day thanks to you forgetting to pick me up at the airport.” “Oof, please don’t hold that above my head forever, kiddo,” he chuckles. The warmth was bittersweet. I’ve never really connected with Dad like I am now, it was just a shame it was in the ashes of what became of our family. As I pretend to push him out of the room, I hear his stomach growl. “Heh, maybe I’m not the only one who’s hungry. I bet it takes a lot to feed that body of yours, stud,” I said. I fucking wanted to hang myself, calling my own dad ‘stud.’ Shit, hopefully he thought nothing of it, but from the way he was starting to tent his shorts… “Okay, okay…” he rumbled, grabbing his keys as we made it to the landing. “How’s Chinese sound for tonight?” “Yeah, sounds great,” I replied. As he left, I almost slumped to the ground. I grasped at my length through my jeans and groaned. I knew it was perverse, thinking about my own father like this. But gods, he was perfection. I sat myself on the couch and laid back, thinking of how much he weighed, how he could shift this whole damn sofa cushion just by sitting on it. How he mashed my face into his pecs. I don’t even manage to get my pants down before I’m blowing a load into my underwear. “Shit,” I whimpered. I step out of my jeans and pull my briefs down, my 7” member slick with my gooey payload. I use my briefs to wipe off the rest of my spunk. Sighing, I make my way to the laundry to toss my jeans and underwear into the washer. I noticed a very… distinct pile of clothes in a hamper by the washer and dryer. It was just filled with socks. Curious, I put my hand into the hamper and instantly recoil when I feel something cold and wet. “Jesus, no…” I gasped. I gingerly pick up a sock in the hamper, old and grey. It was sopping wet, a trail of oozing, viscous liquid trailing from the end as I lifted it. “Oh shit,” I whined. All of these socks… Oh fuck. My eyes go wide and my mouth curls into a grimace when I realize Dad wasn’t kidding when he said he had to relieve his urges at least a few times a day. I drop the sock back into the hamper. Looking at my fingers, I realize there’s a filmy residue of my dad’s spunk on my fingers leftover. I… I couldn’t help myself. He was the hottest thing on the planet, I just needed to know… I brought my index finger to my mouth. I wish I hadn’t. The taste was something else, salty, almost meaty. I needed more. I lapped up the rest of the seed on my fingers and whined when there was none left. My cock throbbed with need, recently spent but reenergized from licking up my Dad’s semen. I regretted what I did next before I even did it. I grabbed at the sock I had just thrown back into the hamper and brought it above my head. I opened my mouth and wrung the sock out with a twist, squeezing out my father’s tasty sperm. I moaned as I gobbled up his delicious seed, craving more. After getting as much of it as I could, I grabbed at another and did the same. In my head I knew this was fucked up, but I couldn’t stop, it tasted so good. My cock bobbed and lurched and before long I was blowing a huge wad of my own cum right into the hamper, adding my own meagre offering to the pool. I tossed my jeans and underwear into the washer and walked away, trying to sort my head out. I couldn’t believe I had just done that. But my lust still clouded my thoughts, I still savoured that flavour, craved it. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to get it straight from the source... --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- PART 2: ...And Sometimes, I Find Out My Dad's a Growing Freak... >> Wonder what's in the basement...

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…And Sometimes, I Watch My Dad Go to Work… by vertical Well, he had to make money somehow... <<PART 2: ...And Sometimes, I Find Out My Dad's a Growing Freak... PART4: ...And Sometimes, I Get What I Want>> --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I stood up groggily, bracing myself against the hallway’s wall opposite to the powder room. Flicking on the light to the washroom, I stared in horror at my reflection. My image was distorted by the smattering of freshly sprayed dad-cream from my father’s earlier explosion of size, muscle and semen. My hands roamed down to lift my shirt up and tug at the modest bump in my stomach, my abs still visible, but lightly rounded out. After greedily guzzling down my father’s tasty, thick, creamy load from the first sock, I admired the sheer destruction my dad’s latest orgasm had wrought on the distended, frayed and destroyed sock. Though, I didn’t mull on that thought long, I wrung the sock, extracting what I could while imagining what it’d be like to have my dad’s huge, arm-thick cock in my mouth, what it’d feel like to feel the power in his body with each strong heartbeat echoing in the pencil-thick veins running down his glorious length. But that didn’t stop me from wanting more. He had turned into such a beast, the hamper was a testament for that. And the way I picked up sock after sock was a testament of my hunger, my clandestine thirst to submit to the most powerful man on the planet. The older socks didn’t have the same hit as the fresh loads I had scarfed down just before. It almost felt… empty to eat them up. They just didn’t have that same punch of meaty flavour nor that unctuous texture. But without an alternative… Or… or did I? I looked at myself in the mirror. I scratched at my chin, trying to pinch myself out of my thoughts. I found myself tapping my foot impatiently, my yearning for my next hit of my dad’s cum almost too much to bear. I was going to do it… I dropped my shirt back down and turned the light off, intent on making my way up to my father, pull down his overburdened underwear, stroke that perfect piece of meat and suck him off, watch the satisfied look on his face, pleasing my daddy… I didn’t make it all the way to the stairs when I saw the door to the basement ajar. My father had said he had set up an office down there. An office for what? What could a 400 pound, no, he was likely pushing the mid 500 to 600 pounds now, musclebeast do with an office? He’d installed refrigerators for his whole working career, he didn’t have a pencil-pushing hair on his body. Though, these days, he sure did seem to have a excess of hair in general. And those pencil-thick veins on his cock… Shit, Corey, stop thinking that way. Curiosity won out. Who knew when I’d get another opportunity? I slowly crept my way down the stairs to the basement, flicking on the lights. Sodium yellow pours out from below and my heart skips a beat, the sense of foreboding almost overwhelming me. But I pressed on. I descended down the stairs as my mind descended into madness, my sanity leaving me as I delved into what felt like secrets better left unseen. I was prepared for the worst, but as my feet hit the landing, I was underwhelmed by the mundanity of what I saw. Unlike the rest of the house, the basement was kept orderly, almost too spick and span. My dad was never a stickler for order, but everything down here almost seemed manicured. Sitting in the middle of the room was a workout bench. It was practically new, the black leather seemingly in good condition. I turned to wall closest the stairs and just like Dad had said, there was a home office complete with a webcam, mic, a nice speaker system. Whatever Dad was doing down here, it was clearly working if he could afford all those supplements on top of this nice rig. If only he kept up the rest of the house, I quipped to myself. However, the longer I looked, the more things just seemed off. At first, the only thing out of placed seemed to be what looked like a hard water stain near a drain in the floor. However, as I made my way to middle of the room, my hand rested on the bench, the Olympic bar sitting on its rest. It seemed larger than what I had seen in the campus gym, but I supposed that was to be expected for a huge beast. I noticed a contraption of sorts nearby. It looked almost like a horse used in gymnastics. I couldn’t imagine my dad vaulting over this thing, there simply wasn’t enough room. Though, that didn’t stop me from imagining his muscles writhing underneath his skin, his strong 4-pack twisting as he stabilized his landing. He’d lift his ham-like arms, his shoulders mashing their way into his traps as his biceps brushed against his ears. He’d roar in approval as he stuck his gargantuan landing, the concrete cracking underneath his weight as he slams into the ground with all the force of a Howitzer shell. And speaking of Howitzers, his would be chubbing up... There it is again, Corey, you’re fantasizing about him again, I reprimanded myself. But how could I not? I sat myself down on the bench, feeling completely insignificant on it. The damn thing practically swallowed me. But I knew... I knew my dad’s humongously wide back would swallow this thing up, his expansive lats would hang at least a foot on either end when he lies down. I noticed that at the far end of the bench, the leather looked a little worn out. I brought my hand down to feel over the area. “What the,” I whispered. There was some sort of indentation. I lifted the leather up and looked at the metal support. It was crushed in. I checked the other side and the same thing. It dawned on me that this is where my dad’s huge, elephant limb-like thighs would rest. The hulking beast was so thickly packed with muscle his thighs crushed the bench, they took up so much space. I sported wood just thinking about it. I looked at the computer, watching the lights on the desktop tower flicker. It was on. Curious, I make my way to the oversized desk, my cock tenting my pants, leading the way. I sat down at the chair, the armrests spread so far apart, they were over twice my body width from each other. I shook the mouse, the hard disk humming as the rig was shaken to life. The screen awakens, flashing black before the pixels pour light into the room. My dad was looking at a blog. Not just any. His own. He was looking at the beginning. Perhaps he did it often? Perhaps he looked at what he was and compared it to what he had become. We were related after all, and if I was him, I’d flex my huge bicep and look at how much bigger it’d gotten. I find myself reaching down to my own burdened package and stroking myself through my jeans. I’d blast load after load, feeling my huge muscles as I looked over my own growing body. I lifted my head up and came, blobs of cum running down my inner thigh and I shudder as it cools down. I came just thinking about the contents of the blog, I hadn’t even taken a look at the first post. I settled down, my breath stabilizing as I calmed down. I wiped the sweat from my brow and adjusted my crotch, tucking my slowly softening cock into the pouch of my underwear. I looked up at the screen and centre it on the first video. It was of my father. Or at least, what used to be my father. He was short and pudgy, just like I remembered. His face was illuminated by what looked like a computer’s light, the shot was grainy and the sound was poor. From the looks of it, he was shooting in the basement with the lights off. He let out a pathetic moan, his fat, obese body jiggling with each stroke. He only needed to use two fingers for the tiny prick, the small rod practically swallowed by his fupa and gut. As he brought up an arm to flex, I almost laughed out loud. The thought of someone so out of shape trying to tease his audience with a flex was almost preposterous. That is, if it not for what he said. “Doc gave me this weird shot. Oh... dang, it’s making me horny. Making me sweat all the time. Huff huff... Nnnghuh!” He began to nut all over his fat belly, watery globules of semen coating the wispy hairs of his gut. “Unngh, I’m making more than normal.” It was slightly arousing, but the caption below got me rock hard. I want MORE, was all it said. You and me both, Dad. The next video was dated a month later, and the transformation already apparent. Thick layers of fat still obscured his muscles, but his arms were definitely fuller, his thighs almost looked obscene, filled to the brim with muscle and fat. His moobs were flatter, and his gut while still prominent, looked like it had shape, rather than being a spilled-over mess. His shoulders looked broader, like his body was built to carry around the excess weight he had. But the greatest difference was with his cock. My dad still looked like a doughy 50-something, his chubby cheeks rosy as he pleasured himself. But his hands, not just one, both, were wrapped around his length. “What was it you said, sizequeen168? ‘Nice baby dick?’ Well...” He moved both his hands away from his bobbing length. The huge piece of meat bowed slightly in the middle from the sheer weight. From the look of it, it had to be about 8 or 9 inches, easily double to triple the length it had been just the month before. “You boys have no idea what it’s like,” my father cooed, bringing up a hand to cup his moob. “I’m growing all over, my muscles are getting so strong.” He raised his arms and flexed, this time he was anything but pathetic. The biceps and triceps were obscured by is adipose, but there was an obvious crease between the two muscle groups, his definition had improved drastically. “Unf, my wife can barely take it any more,” he grunted, thrusting his hips forward. His hands encircled around his now massive prick, the fingers and thumb no longer able to touch each other due to the new girth. “Ohh, I’m gonna... here it goes boys!” he roared. He pointed his manhood up, mashing his sensitive tip into his warm belly-flesh. He moaned lewdly as his lime-sized balls pulled up. Instead of thin, watery jets of seed spewing out, enormous, whitish gushers of cum blasted out over his belly and and the bottom of his flabby chest. Ribbons of thick seed just kept spilling out, cobwebs of it oozing all over his upper body as he continued to shoot load after load for a good 15 seconds. He squeezed his cock harder around the base, a warbling moan escaping his mouth as he blasted through a second wind, lazy streams of cum oozing out of his tortured shaft. “Can you boys... huff... imagine all that going into my wife?” he chuckled. He gave the camera a sly look, a look that he knew he held power over his viewer. A look that he knew he was just beginning. Yet again, the next video was dated a month after the last, this time as a Christmas special post. My eyes bugged out at the man that was on camera. He looked like a powerlifter, big, broad shoulder framing his thickening body. Rolls of fat still nestled on his back, but the skin was stretched taut along his abdomen, glimmers of abdominal muscles reveal themselves whenever he twisted his torso. A singular vein ran down each of his biceps, each muscle already larger than the football players I slept with. He smirked at the camera, smirked at me. His face was more carved, a faint hint of a double chin the only remnant of the portly butterball that was my father. His facial hair was coming in, the emerging beast already visible. He was definitely enjoying himself this time. His hand moved up to touch the underside of his fatty pectoral shelf, the big beast shuddering as his hand brushed against the hairs around his nipple, his fingers tracing along the periphery of the sensitive knob. He takes it in between his thumb and his index finger. I never heard a man wail in pleasure like that. And I never saw a cock spring to life like his did. It was obscene, 14” no, 15” maybe 16” of cock shot up and slapped into his midsection, pre oozing out of the fat, apple-sized tip and splashing down his length and pomegranate sized balls. Jesus, he was a monster. “You boys never thought I’d get this big, did you?” He pushed his arms down, his pectorals flaring out and brushing up against the bottom of his chin. “My wife’s scared of me, says I’m getting too big. What do you boys think? Is Daddy too big?” he growled. He raised his arms up, letting his cock bob up and down in time with his heartbeat. He flexed his guns, squeezing them and filling them with blood his skin began to redden. They had to be over 21” in diameter. They had to be some the biggest arms filled with beef in existence. He grunted as he dropped his hands down to wrap around his cock, his massive mitts spread apart by the tumescent flesh. His voice was so deep now, so powerful. His pecs jiggle with each stroke his heavy brow scrunched down as he strokes harder and harder. When he sprays, its like watching a geyser go off. His cum blasts out of the tip of his cock, so much volume, it hits the top of the low ceiling of the basement. “Oh shit... ungh, noooo,” he moaned. “What’s happening...” His voice cracked, getting deeper. “...to me?” he whimpered. I already knew. He was hitting a growth spurt. Daddy’s first growth spurt, the caption read just below the video. It started in his face. His jaw grew more masculine, his facial features sharpening. His neck begins to bloat as he grows, veins criss-crossing against the cords of muscle. The air around him practically steams, his nostrils flaring as he snorts like a bull. His shoulder and traps billow out, growing wider, filling the frame of the cam show he was giving. His pecs fill the space between his arms, and then they fill it more, arms and pecmeat contesting each other as he blew up, his build growing beyond what any human could possibly achieve. How much did he weigh now? 300 pounds? At least. His cock, still blasting cum, inches up his belly as he grows. It goes on for a minute at least, my father blowing and growing in tandem. I was already edging myself. My cock almost in pain from the amount of rubbing and attention I’ve been giving it today. I scroll down, some still picture of my dad flexing his hot, horny body. Some of them were of him nursing his enormous musclegut. AMA questions with equally hot answers. ‘How many calories do you eat a day?’ As much as I can get. ‘How big is that thing getting?’ This week? 20” Dated in mid-February. After that, the final post. “Heya folks,” my colossal dad grunted into the mic. He was clothed, but barely. His man-tiddies poked out from each end of his a-shirt, his bulge pushed out of his workout shorts obscenely. His arms were dusted with a heavy coating of hair as was his jawline. “Sorry for being so quiet on here lately. Lemme tell you, it’s been such a trip for this big daddy,” he chuckled, bringing a 24” arm up for a huge flex. He licked at the peak, pleased with how much meat he had packed on. “I just wanna say, I’m so grateful for all you little boys watching this big daddy explode with mass.” He brings both arms down and squeezes them against his pecs. His whole body seemed to explode with size as he pumped blood into his muscles. The shirt groaned in protest as he stretched the fabric to its limit and then some, it frayed along the edges, unable to contain my dad’s most muscular most-muscular. He relaxed his pose and continued, “I just wanted to tell you guys that I’ll be taking this whole muscle show thing a little more seriously. 3000 followers are a lot and I’ve been thinking of doing some live shows to make some cash.” He looks into the camera with earnest eyes, honest to a fault the man was, they were almost puppy-like. Hell, if he was making me melt, then his followers were probably puddles by now. “I haven’t told anyone, but I lost my job. I was getting too big. And you know me guys, can’t keep my hands off myself. Hehe. My boss somehow found out I was getting blowjobs from some the clients and he fired me on the spot. My wife left me the day after that,” he said solemnly. “But, there’s a silver lining in everything right, boys?” he chuckled nervously. “So, if you want to support this big guy and help him grow even more massive, the links are below. I’ll be doing daily cam shows from now on.” And sure enough, I clicked the link to his streaming website. It was all paid content, but luckily he was logged in. He really did do daily streams. If I thought he was getting big before, now he was exploding in size. With all his energy now put into growing massive, his arms went from 24” to 30” within a month, more than an inch a week. I just kept scrolling through the saved streams. I was practically giddy just looking through all the preview shots and the title captions for each stream. Daddy flexes his 30” guns. The 10 second preview while hovering over the image shows off my dad’s ultra-thick powerlifter’s physique by late February, the hairy freak going beast-mode as he blasts through reps so fast the image is blurry in the preview. Daddy crushes a watermelon between his thighs. I hovered the cursor over the preview picture and find myself leaking pre as I watch two colossal thighs wrap around a large melon. It was rather low-res, but my dad’s hefty bulge was leaking pre all over the top of the watermelon, giving it an unnatural shine. And to my surprise, there were even lewder ones. Daddy crushes a dildo in his ass. Heh, I knew it. Daddy cums as he curls 350 pounds. Nailed it again, I knew that weight was for his bicep curls. I felt like an ace detective, an incredibly horny ace detective. Daddy bends his son’s car over his daddy dick. Excuse me? I clicked on that stream. Mid-March. Dad was already humongous, easily over 360 pounds of freaked out beef. The streamed started out with Dad rubbing up his sweaty musculature. He’d been lifting and judging from the way his veins angrily tore a path through his skin, he’d been working hard. “’Lo, boys,” he grunted, his voice as deep and booming as it was this afternoon. He raised an arm, a slick stream of sweat pouring out the deep crevasses in his arm, his biceps and triceps providing ample crags to pool his liquid determination into. “Bigger than ever,” he snarled, his lips curled into an arrogant smile. He swayed his hips back and forth, his epic cock gently thwacking against his inner thighs as his grapefruit-sized balls rolled about, roiling with his potent seed. “Oh yeah, way bigger,” he cooed. “You boys wanna see how big and strong Daddy’s become?” he grunted, his bravado oozing out of every pore, just as much as the testosterone. He grabbed at a hunk of metal. But from the colour, I knew it was a door to my car with the windows taken out. My father’s hand prints were clearly visible along the edges where he had torn the thing from the body. “You guys know I can bend rebar pretty easily these days,” he cooed. “But trust me, I’ve gotten so much stronger.” The big beast began to stroke himself, his epic length filling with blood. His belly jiggles as he whacks off, his groans low and powerful. He began to rub the top of his length against the scrap metal, the smooth metal touching his slick flesh. “Holy shit,” I barked, standing up from my seat as my pride stood at attention in my crotch. I bet my dad’s audience at the time had the same reaction. My dad was smirking at the camera. The fabric and plastic began to crack along the middle. My dad’s hands were shaking as he pushed down, his hulking chest heaving with pure mass and power. And yet, my dad’s cock didn’t budge, it pushed up with as much, if not more force than his arms did down. He wasn’t even finished before I was blowing a load into my jeans once again, my body taken over by my lust for my own father. “I’m... ungh... INVINCIBLE!” he roared as he bent the whole door almost in half over his cock. The plastic splintered and crumbled off the scraps, leaving just the metal shell, warped beyond recognition. My father threw the metal to the side and threw his arms down. With a primal scream, he flexed his whole body, the shot going dark as he filled the field of view to the brim. Squeezing harder, the veins danced underneath his paper-thin skin as he gorged his muscles with blood. And then he came. Huge torrents of semen splatter out of his megalith of a cock, 24” of bullcock going wild. He moved between poses, his cock’s deluge unending. He seemed to get off on his body, every flex renewing his self-desire, reinvigorating his orgasm, his desires near endless. A minute, a whole minute later and he was still going, his giant shaft was still oozing semen all over the place. Finally, after a good 3 or so minutes, he was reduced to little more than dribble, the beast giving a few cursory flexes before he ended the video. I didn’t think it could get much hotter than that, but then I scrolled down to today’s video, or perhaps, yesterday’s – I’d been here, beating off to my dad’s amateur porno vids that it was almost 1 in the morning. It was titled Daddy milks his bullcock. There he stood in all his magnificence. Easily 6’6” and 400 pounds of brawn, his gut now more muscle than fat, the bloated abdominals barely concealed by the thinning layer of fat. Six months since he started, and he was almost ripped enough to have abs. He didn’t have to say a word. I was boning up again, and I knew he knew he was a god. Everyone who saw him would be having my reaction. His massive half-erection, a monumental phallic paragon, stretched further than it was hard in the last video. He just stared silently at the camera, a permanent, arrogant scowl in his face. He raised an arm, his favourite motion, consistently bigger, consistently stronger. He felt it up with his fingers from both sets of hands, the bicep so pumped with blood he could touch the enormous peak situated on his arm. That was enough for Daddy to go raging hard, his 28” monstrosity curved slightly upwards in the middle. The veins throbbed with the ichor flowing through them. He grunted lowly, the only other sound on the audio was the stream of pre-seed dribbling onto the concrete floor, almost sounding like someone was taking a leak. He then turned to the Olympic horse. Only now I realized that’s not what it was. I turned my head, away from the screen, leaving my digital fantasy of my father long enough to recognize the analog horror. The bar had a hole in it at one end. That wasn’t a horse, it was an oversized artificial vagina meant for collecting bull semen – a fucking fleshlight for monstrously sized animals. I suppose it was fitting, my father had definitely become one. He shuddered, bellowing as he entered the device, standing on his thickly muscled haunches, the quads and hamstrings separated, the sheen of his ass-sweat matting down the furry hair on his muscle-engorged glutes and thighs. Inch after agonizing inch, he forced his way into his ‘sow,’ his face screwed in fits of pleasure. His calves erupted with diamond-like patterns with each upward thrust, the pattern mirrored in abdominals hidden just out of view as my dad rested his giant musclegut on top of the contraption. His giant arms, each larger than my waist, shot down to brace himself as he leaned over his ‘toy.’ Like a bull, he puffed out his epic chest, sweat beading in the valleys of his pecs and coalescing onto his nipples, soft droplets of sweat dripping down on the leather. And like a bull, he moaned lewdly, his voice inhuman, it was desperate and savage. He began to piston into the thing with abandon. Plink plink plink. There it was, the rhythmic metallic sound I heard when I had come home. The bolt holding the device to the ground had become loose from my dad’s ministrations, his hips generating more force than a jet engine. In his desperation, he changed angles, lowering himself down, his massive bowling ball sized nuts dangling between his thighs. He let loose a low bellow, almost sounding like a bull, a long, low, sonorous crone. With one final thrust, he mounted the device to his hilt. He gritted his teeth as his thrusting became erratic, his mind losing control as the beast took over. After half a minute of thrusting, the end he was fucking began to ooze his cum out in torrents, the contraption filled to capacity. And yet, still he went on, fucking with wanton abandon. His eyes rolled back, his tongue lolled out, his muscles spasmed as his higher functions shut down, lost to the mind-addling effect of the most powerful post-orgasmic afterglow setting in. He slowly began to thrust again, slow and steady. Plink... plink... plink... he was enjoying himself, riding the orgasmic high for as long as he could. “Hello? Mom? Dad?” a muffled voice called from upstairs. Oh shit, that was me. My dad snapped out of his stupor and a look of panic set in. He pulled out of the machine, revealing his engorged 28” godhood, slimy cum coating its surface. He wiped himself off and kicked cum into the drain on the floor. My eyes wandered there, realizing that wasn’t hard water, but encrusted cum. “Shit,” the beast hissed to himself. A low thud rings out through the basement as the semen repository to the device gave out, falling to the ground and splashing more cum everywhere. He grumbled lowly as he fits it back on and pushed as much of the cum as he could into the grating on the floor. He wiped down his equipment and sighed looking one last time at the camera before shutting off the stream. I was rock hard as I stepped away from the computer console. I held myself against the wall as I made my way up the stairs to the ground floor. Without thinking, I made my way up the second flight. What was I doing? I felt like I was on auto-pilot. I should turn to the washroom, get freshened up before bed. No. I should just get some shut eye, go to my room and take my mind off everything. No. I had a craving... an urge... and I needed to satisfy it. I grabbed onto the knob leading into the master bedroom. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- <<PART 2: ...And Sometimes, I Find Out My Dad's a Growing Freak... PART4: ...And Sometimes, I Get What I Want>> Oh no, what ever could he want to do...

...And Sometimes, I Find Out My Dad’s a Growing Freak... by vertical -Well, I didn't manage to get him into the basement just yet... there were too many hot things to do with his dad... <<PART 1: Sometimes, I Drink My Dad's Cum... PART 3: ...And Sometimes, I Watch My Dad Go to Work...>> --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I don’t know what was in my dad’s semen that made it so addictive, all I knew was that the more I had the more I craved. That night, Dad had come back with tray after tray after tray of barely passable ‘food.’ If I thought my father would be concerned that his son wasn’t chowing down on chow mien, I’d have been wrong. The great beast ate, practically hoovered, the food in with abandon. Me, I barely ate a plateful, I was too busy silently stroking at myself underneath the table, watching those mountainous arms work, his pecs heave… I had a sneaking suspicion that he was all too happy to be eating the lion’s share. A suspicion I confirmed as I pretended to drop my chopsticks on the ground. “Hehe, leave it, Corey. Just go get a fork,” my dad had said with a gulp. As I bent over I pretended to be just interested in the wooden stick lying on the ground, but I tilted my head just enough to see that my father’s dark slab of meat was out of his shorts, a slow dribble of pre-seed leaking onto the floor. He’d shown it to me, a little too nonchalantly, before he went out, but gods, when it was starting to get hard, it was massive. I had to estimate it to be at least 18”, more than double my erect length, and it wasn’t even fully hard! I quickly shot up with my chopsticks in hand, and sat up straight as an arrow, my eyes staring intently on a piece of beef in front of me. I stole a glance at my dad and his cheeks were rosy, the hulk of a man staring off to the side. I think we both knew what I saw. I suppose I got my politeness from his side of the family – neither of us brought up the incident the rest of the night. I excused myself and decided to take a shower. As I climbed the stairs, I let out a sigh of relief, my hands obscured from my father’s vision. Without prying eyes, I was free to grope at myself, and I could see Dad reaching underneath the table when he thought I couldn’t see him any more. Like father, like son, I suppose. By the time I got to the washroom, my shorts were already down to my ankles, my feel dragging along the ground. As I stepped into the shower, I notice the thick layer of congealed semen right on the shower tile. I knew my father had become so self-absorbed with his new, giant body, but I didn’t think he’d be this negligent. The sheer volume that was still in the shower, it was like he forgot that he had a closeted son. Well, it’s not like he knew what I was about to do next. Without turning the water on, I reach down and scoop up maybe half a handful of the stuff. I couldn’t believe it’s texture, slimy and wet, yet still held itself together. It’d been hours since he was in here and the cum hadn’t dissolved or become watery. I bring my hand to my shaft, my skin reeling with goosepimples as the cold gel slides along my erect 7” length. I slowly whack off, occasionally bending down to scoop up more of my dad’s spunk. I rub it into my chest, feeling up my strong toned pectorals, imagining I had a shelf just like my dad, or maybe even bigger. I rubbed it into my arms, wondering what it’d feel like to have cannons like he did. Despite having came already, I blasted huge gooey loads all over the tile wall of the shower, cum streaking down the wall. Fuck, even his hours-old cum was more substantial than mine. That fact made me bone up painfully, my sensitive cockhead begging me for reprieve. I tried my best to avoid rubbing at it as I cleaned up, kicking the blobs of cum into the drain and hoping it didn’t clog. I dried off and wrapped a towel around my waist. Steam rolled out of the washroom as I opened the door and pause. My dad was walking right past the door, his hulking frame taking up so much space that I couldn’t fully open. He looked at me and I could see him admiring my form, specifically, he looked at the corrugated washboard abs I had forged for myself to attract all the boys; I wouldn’t say I was all that muscular, but they were there. He lingered there, the seams in his shorts audibly straining as he stared. If he thought he could just ogle me without the sentiment being returned, he was wrong. His hands clenched, his knuckles almost white as he tried to control his libido. I tried not to make it too obvious I was admiring the sheer size of his forearms, the sinewy muscle laden with veins that danced as he strained to restrain himself. His pulse quickened, the veins in his biceps throbbing with each heartbeat. His triceps swell with the slightest twitch of his forearms. His broad shoulders filled my field of view. Pectorals that brushed against the bottom of his stubbly chin. “Uh, sorry,” my enormous father grunted, shaking his head, a huge blush on his cheeks. He shuffled past, slowly adjusting his crotch as he ducked into the master bedroom. His massive, bubble-butt bounces with each step, the ground rumbling underneath his bulk. His enormous thighs rub against one another, the thick slabs of muscle touching all the way down to the knees. It’s not long after he disappears inside until I hear grunts coming from inside. Damn horny bastard. I’m fully chubbed at that point, but instead of succumbing to my lust again, I fight the urge to walk in on my father masturbating and make my way back into my own room. I got dressed, a simple t-shirt and a ratty, old pair of boxer-briefs were good enough to lounge and sleep in. However, if I thought I could even think about sleeping with the amount of noise coming from across the hall… I just needed to get away, else I’d be rubbing my cock all night long, thinking about my massive dad. I slipped on a pair of old jeans. I crept my way down the stairs, trying to busy my mind, think of anything else, trying to erase the picture of my dad’s huge junk from my head. I busy myself with cleaning the mess and neglect of our downstairs living space. As I try to ignore the deep, bassy grunts coming from upstairs, I grabbed a garbage bag and tossed canister after empty canister of protein, and empty wrappers of protein bars. As disgusting as it was, I couldn’t help but feel myself tenting my shorts, imagining my father gorging himself, feeding and growing into the beast he had become today. The ceiling above me groaned and protested as my father picked up his pace, small tidbits of popcorn stucco falling to the floor. Jeez, the old man really did forget he wasn’t all alone in the house anymore. I shook my head and continued to collect discarded things. Without Mom around, my dad had let the house fall into neglect; or, a deeper part of me wondered perhaps he was just too into his own body to recognize just how messy he had let the house become. I couldn’t believe the amount of stuff he’d just tossed to the side, perhaps in his haste to stuff even more calorific shakes and protein bars into his face. Ugh, what a pig... A massive, muscular, handsome pig at that. I was pulling things from underneath the couch when... “What the fuck?” I blurted as I felt something... different from the empty packages and containers. It took me a couple tries, slowly rolling it out from underneath the furniture. When the pink tip emerged, I couldn’t help but gasp. I took the tip of it into my hand and pulled it the rest of the way out. A dildo, bright pink and easily in the foot-plus category rested in the palm of my hand. “Jesus fuck, what a pervert,” I exhaled under my breath. I had half a mind to think it may have been my mother’s, but there was no way this thing could ever fit into a woman. The plastic cockhead was larger than my fist. I traced my finger down the ridge of the head, just as I heard my massive father shudder and groan with delight. I felt the ridges of the simulated, pink foreskin pulled back, agonizingly taut. The cacophony upstairs grew to a fevered pitch. My finger glided down the length, thicker than a beer bottle, veins thicker than pencils. My gaze finally rested on the base of the pink behemoth and I shuddered. It was a model where the end flared to simulate ‘balls.’ But that end... was crushed in. I gulped and brought it closer to my face. Just by what, I didn’t know. Was that the impression of my dad’s steely, strong hand? I whimpered, thinking that maybe, just maybe, it was his enormous glutes that had rendered the dildo destroyed. I quickly drop the thing, letting my better senses take hold of me, desperately trying to get my ever-present erection to go away. I kicked the dildo back underneath the sofa, out of sight, still in mind. With the living room mostly cleaned out, I take the full trash bag out towards the garage. Unfortunately, the entrance was through the laundry and I once again found myself face to face with the hamper. Piles of socks unperturbed still laid inside, just ripe and waiting for the plucking. I had to pinch myself to walk past it. I flicked on the lights in the garage and my jaw dropped once again. Surprise after surprise, and yet my reaction didn’t change, though the rest of the house did. I dropped the bag and stumbled my way to the far end of the concrete room. My dad had set up a makeshift gym. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a bench, a barbell and dumbells – the bare minimum. The one thing he did seem to spring for was a full-length mirror running along the edge of the wall. Whether he used that to check his form or to bask in his own hugeness, I didn’t know. I didn’t understand, it was bare bones, and judging from the size of the plates, what my dad was lifting wasn't all that impressive. I took to the set of dumbbells left discarded in the middle of the room. It looked like a pair of 150 pounders that I’ve seen at the campus gym, something the most impressive beasts could lift. But those guys, they still looked human, how could my dad get so huge with just these? Sure, I wouldn’t be able to do anything with those myself, but I could at least lift it up with both hands. I grasp the grip with both my hands and pull up. I knew I could easily deadlift 150 pounds. However, the weight didn’t budge a bit. “What the fuck?” I squealed as I strained, the weight leaving the ground on one end, but I couldn’t manage to get it off the ground completely. The weight crashed to the ground, almost softly, speaking to how pathetic my attempt was. I peered down and tried to read off the weight. “370 pounds, how?” I gulped. I chubbed up at the thought of my dad doing curls with that weight. I read off the smaller print beside it, “Wolfram.” Jesus, it wasn’t iron, but tungsten. I looked at the bench incredulously. If all the weights were made of the stuff, then my dad wasn’t just at the upper echelon of strength, but in a completely different category all his own. I stared into the mirror, looking at my own distorted image. A long dried, yellowing gusher marred half the length of the room. I was a little taken aback, but if I was able to curl 370 pounds, maybe I’d get off on that too. I adjusted myself, pushing the thoughts of my father working out and getting off on himself out of my head. Or at least, I tried to. At first, he was naked in my head, his luscious body hair matted to his bulging muscles and gut. Forcing myself to imagine him with clothes on fared no better. The way the sweat soaked into his tanktop, his broad pecs pushing out so far, the nipples peeked through the sleeves, his hairy gut rippling with muscle underneath the fat pushing through the bottom. The way his giant balls filled the basket of his shorts, the seams straining to contain them all on their own. The beast massaging his... Another wet spot forms in my pants, and once again I came to the thought of my own beast of a dad. I barely had a chance to bask in the afterglow, catching a glimpse of something truly horrific in the mirror; the rack of dumbbells and the bench had obscured it. My car. Or what was left of it. I let out a curse and whine as I rushed over to see the chassis gutted. No doors were left in place, where had they gone? I looked at the ground, feeling an anger bubble in the pit of my stomach. How could he do this? He had ripped the wheels off, leaving them on the axle. Did he work out with these? Did that get him off? This was my car! I vowed. I promised to let this anger fester. I wouldn’t think of my father in dirty terms anymore, not after he did this to my car. I snorted angrily, kicking the ‘tire-barbell’ and making my way back into the house. Little did I know, my resolve would be tested instantly. A rumbling, like thunder comes from upstairs, the floor creaking as my father began to descend down the stairs. I couldn’t let him see me with a rage-boner in my pants. Quickly, before he had a chance to see me, I turned the lights to the laundry off and hid behind the small nook in the room, the musky, cum-rag-sock hamper at the entrance to the room. Enshrouded in darkness, I hoped that my dad wouldn’t see me. The booming footsteps drew near and I held my breath, hoping to go undetected. The looming shadow from the hall darkens the room even more. A large, bowed out sock was tossed into the hamper, an audible squick ringing through the air in the small room, followed by a deep exhalation. “Oh, fuck,” Dad groaned. “Gotta... stop thinking about ‘im like that, Randy,” he coached himself. “But God, those abs... urgh... no he’s... your son...” he growled. An obscured light filtered into the room, my father having flicked the switch in the adjacent powder room on. I could hear an audible groan coming from the hall. It wasn’t like that of the beast my dad had become, but the sound of clothing protesting from being overstretched. A hear a sharp exhale before the stretching sound continued, he was moving between poses. Gathering courage, I inched my way towards the entrance of the room. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw my dad’s hand shoot into view. “Fuck, not again... I’ll... urgh... make this quick,” he grunted lowly, his voice like thunder, yet silky like a fine chocolate. He fished around for a sock in the hamper, lifting one of the ones I had ‘drained,’ the whole thing having crusted over without any liquid in it. I could hear him shake off the cobwebs of dried cum and whimpering as his sensitive flesh brushed against the rough texture of spunk-encrusted cotton. “Mmmmhm,” he hummed darkly, clearly pleased with his self-ministrations. I crept closer, curiosity winning out over fear, my body now half in the light. If he decided to peek his head into the room, he would for sure see me. But, from the lack of attention he’d been taking with the rest of the house, I took my chances. I peeked around the corner, my face barely concealed. My hands instantly shot down to touch myself through the fabric of my pants, my vow of enmity be damned. I massaged the tip of my cock as he massaged his through the sock, gooey bubbles of pre-seed already soaking through the material. His body was massive, thick arms, each larger than my waist and bloated with an intense pump from working himself, piston up and down, the veins running along his bicep coursing with blood. His shoulders and lats rotate and curl, tittering forward and back as he smoothly works at himself, their mass pulling at his tanktop, exposing the bottom of his gut as they tensed. His gargantuan pectorals aid them, the individual fan-like striations writhing underneath his skin. He pushes his arms down, his hands squeezing at the base of his monumental cock, his pecs pushing up, the hairy shelf level with his chin. The muscle-greedy bastard flitted his tongue, getting himself a mouthful of hairy pecs, but he could only moan in approval. It was when my eyes were diverted to his massive ass and thighs when the real show began. I was busy ogling his glutes, hams and quads shifting in tandem as he pistonned his hips forward, thrusting more and more of his epic length into his hands, the basket in his strained briefs bouncing and slapping against his inner thighs and his hands. His unyielding strength seemed to waver, his knees bowing slightly. “Ungh, no!” he hissed. “Not... now... ungh!” His voice grew deeper, bassy like a subwoofer. “Fuuuuuuuck,” he moaned as the veins across his body spasmed in stark relief of his reddening skin. I watched with bated breath as sweat drenched his heavy, masculine brow. He snarled, his canines sharp, almost feral and oozing with primal saliva. A beast in every regard. The freak that was my father exhaled sharply, his body practically steaming as his muscles slowly inched larger. I wouldn’t have believed it if I wasn’t seeing it with my own eyes. I didn’t care, I needed to relieve the pressure in my crotch. I undid the fly of my jeans and let my cock slip out of the band of my underwear, uncaring of the cold teeth of the zipper biting into the sides of my 7 inches of pride. He bared his fang-like canines, his neck blowing out with size, restricting the motion of his head. His traps spasm, his arms temporarily pulled back as the fill with muscle, his ears almost coming into contact with the skin of his back. His shoulders writhed, his deltoids pushing further out, how wide he was becoming I couldn’t tell. The growing beast raised his arms, his giant, sleeved cock bobbing precariously as he worshipped the growing peaks of his biceps. He moaned, wanting desperately to lick those peaks, instead getting a mouthful of deltoids. As for me, well, I got a look at his massive, hairy pits, his lats flaring out at the interface between his back and obliques. “Ungh, fuck, I don’t care if Corey finds out,” my dad growled to himself, his eyes alight with pure, unadulterated muscle-lust. “MORE!” he belted as he brought his now gargantuan arms down, sweat dripping off his titanic triceps and forearms. His lats and pecs push out, forcing his arms slightly outwards even as he squeezed them to his side as best he could. His pectoral shelf spasms, the growing pecmeat forcing his chin upwards. “Yeah, this is... the biggest spurt yet!” he snarled, delight in his tone. “Heya, buddy,” he cooed. Oh shit, had he found me out? His hands roamed down to his abs and a huge, devilish smile crossed his lips. Unlike the rest of him, his gut had stayed relatively the same size, the layer of fat thinning as more and more muscle pushed through. Billowly, blocky abs were now clearly visible, a tortoiseshell to end all others and covered in a dense forest of dark hair. It could maybe be described as a 4-pack if I was being generous; the abs were there but there was still lots of fat. “Unf, haven’t seen you in 20 years,” he chuckled, the muscle and fat on his belly jiggling as he rubbed his fatty abs. The beast gave himself a quick flex in the mirror once more before going at his length again. “You grow too, bud,” he cooed, coaxing at his length. He tilted his head back as his massive mitts encircled around his cock. “YES!” he bellowed. His hands moved methodically up and down, his muscle swelling with blood as he held his cock in a deathgrip. But his shaft won out, pushing his fingers further and further apart. The sock rides up his cock, looking more and more pathetic on his length, now covering less than half of its length. His dick was so thick now, I could make out the pomegranate sized head in sharp relief inside the sock. The girth was so extreme, the elastic was fraying at the neck of the sock, the fabric stretched so thin, I could make out the red, angry skin of his shaft between the woven fibres. His balls audibly gurgled, the insane size of them stretching the band of his shorts to the limit, the snapping of the internal elastics pinging in my ears. They pull up and inject his god-spunk into his system and the musclegod roared in desperate pleasure. The sock bows out, semen leaking out of the toe of the garment like a running faucet. My dad pulled at his length with abandon, slamming the tip of his cock in between the bottom shelf of his heavy pecs, cum gushing out all over his pecs in lazy streams, pooling on the underside before dripping onto his blocky abs. As he continued to cum, he threw his arms down, the hair on the back of his triceps thickening, new patches forming on his shoulders and back. His stubble on his chin grew out into a modestly trimmed beard. Hair spread like wildfire in the canyon of his pectorals and abgut, a treasure trail leading right to his most prized possession. I pressed my back against the wall, out of sight of my behemoth of a father, his hairline, slightly growing back in, now level with the top of the door to the powder room. I looked down at myself, having blown twice in the time my dad had jerked off and orgasmed, my own rod sore and raw from all the abuse I was giving it. “Shit,” my father boomed. “Feels... so good to grow...” he moaned. He sighed and tossed the thoroughly ruined sock into the hamper, stretched out of shape beyond hope. “Ungh, gotta stop thinkin’ of Corey like that,” he mumbled. “Gotta get myself a girlfriend or somethin’, yeah,” he huffed. “Ungh, stupid walls. Why they gotta build these halls so tight?” he snorted. The ground shook as he began to leave. I peeked my head out once again to see my father’s triceps touching each end of the hallways walls, his gloriously enormous ass rolling as he waddled out and back up the stairs. In the dim light I could barely make out his junk as he climbed the stairs, the base clearly visible as the rest of his shaft warped his shorts. I couldn’t even tell if my heart was still beating, but when the coast was clear, I stood over the hamper and looked at the two socks my dad had just deposited. One, filled to the brim with his seed, the other hopelessly destroyed by his new size. My stomach rumbled, having skipped most of dinner. But, I had a nutritious meal right in front of me, piping hot too... As I raised the overwhelmingly filled sock to my lips, I knew what I had to do next. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- <<PART 1: Sometimes, I Drink My Dad's Cum... PART 3: ...And Sometimes, I Watch My Dad Go to Work...>> Maybe, I dunno, maybe this time he'll find out what's in the basement.

“Twist it just a bit more. Ahhh, yesss, there. Perrrfeeccttt…Oh fuck, that feels good…Just one more twist…Oh, Oh, Oooohhhh…Now, pull it out nice and slow.” Cam says to me. “Oh…slower Ming, slower. Ahhh” and the tip comes to the entrance of his hole. “Now shove it in as hard and as fast as you can.” “Muscles, I know what the fuck I’m doing.” I slap his ass. “It’s not the first time I’ve shoved a dildo into your ass.” I angrily say and ram the dildo back in as hard as I can, partially out of frustration, and partly to make sure every inch is inside him. Once I have the veiny 6x8 tan unit back in him, I twist it left and right without mercy. Cam starts grunting and moaning. I give the unit one more vicious thrust and he yelps. Good I’m on the right track. I look down at his back and run my fingers along his spine, following the dragon tail tattoo toward his ass, and then I slap his already reddened ass a few more times. I spit onto his ass and aggressively work the dildo in and out to get the spit inside, to help lube his hole. He continues to moan and is freely dripping pre-cum onto the bedspread. As I withdraw it this time, I shake it up and down and twist it in a circular motion, trying to widen his hole for the next unit, which is bigger. I pick up the 8x10 inch black dildo, which has been pre-lubed, and put it right next to his hole, so he doesn’t have a chance to clamp it shut. I pull out the tan one and instantly shove the new one in. Cam briefly cries out in pain, but pushes his face into a pillow and let’s a scream go. It is pretty much muffled and I pray our neighbors can’t hear us. I push this one a bit slower, giving him time to adjust. He’s always had trouble with the 10 incher and today he vowed to take it all the way to the hilt. Besides being longer, it is thicker and Cam is moaning in pain. “How you doing?” “Oh fuck…Let me shove an 8x10 dildo up your ass and see how you feel.” He barks back at me. “Ok, you’re doing well, Muscles, I guess I can push it all the way in.” I sarcastically say as I continue to push. “Fuck, fuck, fuckkkkk. Slow the fuck down. Jesus fucking Christ Ming, I know I said I wanted to take it to the hilt today, but not in one god-dammed shove. Fuck dude.” I back off and he lets out a deep breath. He is sweating profusely and is face is as red as his ass. “Fine, you let me know when you’re ready princess. I’ll just wait here for you.” I twist the unit and he half screams in pain and half moans in what I think is pleasure. “Fuck you.” “Mmmm, you’ve already done today, this is my turn.” And I twist the unit some more, but do it quicker. He is now just moaning. I slowly push it further in. “Dude, you’ve only got another 8 inches to go.” I lie to him. What? He can’t see it? How’s he going to know? “Fuck you, I know it’s mostly in, stop fucking with me.” “Princess, you have the smallest ass I’ve seen. I swear, I’ve only put 2 inches in.” “Liar. You’re not putting your inchworm of a dick in my ass, that’s only 2 inches, so fuck you.” I laugh and push another inch or two in. If he knew how close he was to having all 10 inches in him, he’d be crowing like a fucking peacock about how he got it all the way in before I did. I spit on his ass again and use my free hand to rub it around his hole. The seal is so tight, but I need to get some more lube in him or he’ll never be able to slide it all the way in. I start to withdraw the unit, get it about half way out, grab the lube container and squeeze a nice dollop onto the dildo, and then begin to slide it back in, twisting and turning it so the lube coats his whole hole. He sighs due to ease with which it is now going into his ass. I slide it back and forth until we get to the same spot from before. There are about 3 more inches to go. I start a steady motion and Cam is breathing heavily into the pillow. I say to him, “Dude, you need to arch your back some. You’re almost home. Get up on all fours and arch it if you can.” “I’ll try.” And he does exactly what is needed. I maneuver the last inch and half into him and push the base to his hole. I say, “Nice job, stud.” And lean down and kiss all along the tattoo right down to the end of the tail, which happens to be at his hole. He sighs, but is still sweating like he’s in a sauna. “Want me to start moving it in and out?” “Not yet.” He says in a strained voice. “Still getting used to it. Fuck it hurts. God-damn, I got it all the way in.” I think to myself, here he goes. I’ll never hear the end of it. ”and before you did. You know what that means.” “Yeah, you’ll never shut up about it.” “No, well yes, but besides that? It means you’re my servant for the night. And man, I’ve got plans for your body. I hope you like pain.” I roll my eyes and say, “Um, no shit, of course I like pain.” and I whisper under my breath, “you dumb fucking bleach blonde surfer.” Cam is just an inch taller than me at 5’7”, but outweighs me 170 to 150. All of that weight is muscle, which is why I nicknamed him Muscles, which I think he takes to heart. Princess is my other nickname for him, when he is being a dick. That one gets him riled up too, but in an angry way. He loves showing off his strength, at the gym, at the beach, in the bedroom. Any chance he gets to pick me up and toss me around gets him rock hard and horny as fuck. I enjoy it as well as it means I get to feel up those surfer muscles and play with them until he blows. I grasp the base of the dildo and start to pull it out. He gasps at the sudden vacuum. Once it’s about half way out, I start to push it back in, but quicker this time. I get 8 inches in and he yelps again, so I slow down, but continue to push. I get all 10 inches back in and he seems more at ease with it. He squirms around, like he wants another few inches shoved into him. I ask, “You want me to break out the 10x12 unit?” “Fuck no.” He grunts. “I like pain just as much as you do, but let’s not get crazy. We’ll work our way up to it, over the next 5 fucking years.” I laugh and so does he. “You need to sit on your ass so it is firmly imbedded in you.” He rolls his body up and squats down onto his hunches. I keep my hand on the base of the dildo so it does not slip out, like it could, given it is wedged into him. He slides his feet out and finally rests on his ass. A contented smile comes over his face. I move to the front of him and hold up a pair of adjustable Open wide Blackline clamps for his nipples. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He yells at me, trying to slap the clamps out of my hands. “You had no problem with them last night..” “But I didn’t have a fucking 8x10 dildo shoved up my ass last night either, you dump fuck.” “Fine princess.” And I put them on my own nipples. The way they squeeze the tips of my nips makes my dick go rock hard in seconds. “Oh fuck, that feels amazing…You don’t know what you’re missing.” “Don’t worry, I know exactly what I’m missing and I’m NOT missing it at all.” He gives his own dick a couple quick yanks to keep the pre-cum flowing out. Some dribbles onto his hand. I take his hand into mine and very sensually lick it off. He brings his hand and my face to his face. Now we are both licking at the pre-cum. I nibble on his fingers. Once he is cleaned off, I sit back and stare at him. His blonde hair usually coats his body, not heavily, but enough that I can run my fingers thru it on his head, his chest, and around his dick. He does shave his dick and balls clean, but leaves some hair underneath his balls and right above his dick. Today, we shaved each other clean. No hair anywhere on him or me, except our heads. We’re like two 14 years old muscle boys, well, him more muscle, me more boy. His chest is heaving as he is still getting comfortable with the dildo in him. I can just barely see the outline of it on his stomach. His abs are so tight and defined, I didn’t think anything would be able to dent them, but I guess an 8x10 dildo can. I reach out and caress his abs. The lull before the storm, as it were. Once he’s at ease with his new toy, back to business. I start to gently twist the clamps and softly pull on the chain that connects them. The tugging makes all the nerve endings on my nips flare up and I feel like I could cum at any moment. I release the chain and lean in towards Cam for a kiss. He sees me coming and when I’m close, he snags my bottom lip in his teeth. And so it starts. He bites down almost hard enough to draw blood, but he does not. His left hand reaches up to the chain and he starts to bat it around, causing me more pain. I groan with excitement. His right hand reaches down for my dick and starts to fiercely jerk it. Since he has my bottom lip, I use my tongue to invade his mouth. We tongue wrestle for a minute and I use the distraction to reach my right hand to his chest and start to pull on his left nipple. I am twisting and tugging at it, trying to pull it off his chest. He closes his eyes due to the new pain and let’s go a moan to show he enjoys the sensation. He releases my lower lips and says, “No fair fucker.” I twist his nipple just a bit more and he says, “Oh, oh, oh…” I say, “All’s fair in love and war, Muscles.” And with that he pushes my dick down below 180 degrees, which causes me to raise up on my hind legs to ease the stress he has inflicted. I yelp in pain and he laughs and says, “Two can play at that game.” I slap him across his cheek with my left hand and leave a fresh hand print. He’s startled and stares at me for a brief second. His hand comes back up to the nipple clamps and he jerks down on them causing me to cry out. I slap him again. He punches me in the stomach, but I flex my abs at the last second to deflect most of the pain. I push him backward onto his back. While he is in this prone position, I pull on the dildo and start to pull it out. When it’s about half way out, I shove it all the way back in. He howls and I throw a pillow over his face to muffle him. I crawl on top of him, straddle his hips, and reach for the riding crop. We both grin evil grins at each other and I slap his ass with it. I hit him again, harder. He growls, leans up, and punches me square in the chest over my left pec. I flex it half a second too late and pain flares because he also hits one of the clamps. I swat at his ass again. He punches my other pec and clamp. This time I don’t flex. I want to feel the pain and pleasure. Oh fuck it feels good. Every nerve ending in my nipple is aroused. A blob of pre-cum now escapes me and lands on his abs and chest. I use the riding crop to hit his dick, but not as hard as his ass. I’m not that mean. He grabs my dick with his left hand and starts to yank it. Slowly at first, then with more intensity. He uses his right hand to play with the clamps. He alternates tugging on them and batting them around. I grind my hips and ass back into his dick. He is rock hard, just as I am. I swat his ass again, like I’m riding a thoroughbred horse. He yelps in pain and I hit him again. I glance back and see the red marks I’m leaving. I smile. He sees my smile and says. “If Ty sees any bruises on us, he’s going to slap both of us around pretty good. Remember, we need to look professional at work.” I hit him again and resume trying to pull off his nipple. He attempts to sit up and push me off him, but I lay my body on top of his. He wraps his arms around me and starts wobbling from side to side. ‘Oh fuck’ I think to myself, ‘he’s going to roll me over. Damn it’, and he does. Fucking surfer muscle boy. Now he’s on top. “My turn, servant boy.” And he hauls his right arm back and gut punches me. I flex in anticipation of the hit, but he really let loose and I can feel the pain flare up. Fucker has always been stronger than I am, and he knows it. He wrestles around with me trying to get both my hands pinned down. I keep trying to knee him and connect once or twice in his sides, but he brushes them off and eventually gets both of my hands in one of his. He smiles at me with one of his looks of superiority. He punches me again. This time I have time to flex my abs and chest and his hand pretty much bounces off. He feigns hitting me again and I tense up. Once I exhale and relax, he batters me. I try to buck him off my waist by raising my pelvis violently, but he uses his legs to squeeze my waist and quads. He playfully swats at my head and hair with his free hand. He leans down and bites my right nipple, even with the clamp on it. I howl in pain and he bites the left one. I start to thrash under him to get free. He slaps the side of my head. I put every ounce of strength I have into bucking him off me and it partially works. I’ve tossed him up. He’s momentarily distracted and I squirm my way out from under him. He’s still got my hands, but now my body is free. He tries to stand up on the bed to get some control back, but I stay seated and bang my head against his dick and balls as hard as I can. I hear him go “oomph.” And my hands break free. “Fucker, you’ll pay for that.” He growls at me. I use my free hands to grab his calves and jerk them forward causing him to fall backwards onto the bed. His body bounces off the mattress. Quick as a cat, I jump on top of him and put one knee right into his asshole and bang the dildo. He howls in pain and I smile devilishly. He swings one arm at my head, which I easily avoid, but it was a diversion as his other hand grabs ahold of the nipple clamp chain and he pulls at it like he’s trying to pull my nipples off with it. I punch him in the sides, but he is so muscular there, I end up hurting my hands more than him. It’s his turn to smile at me evilly. I slap him on the side of his face and the smile goes away and is replaced by a hardened mad look. Uh-oh, one slap to the head too many… He roars up, both his arms go around me, and he has me in a bear hug. Fuck, now I’m screwed. He applies a tremendous amount of pressure to my lower back. He begins to stand up on the bed again, but this time he’s bringing me up with him. He starts to easily bounce my body up and down against his. My dick is rubbing against his rock hard abs and he is trying to pull my body into his. I feel myself weakening. He senses it too. He uses his strength to lift me higher on his body and then I feel his dick around my hole. Damn it, even with the 8x10 dildo shoved up his ass, he’s still got enough strength and stamina to fuck my standing up… I put my hands on his chest to try to create some separation, but he just squeezes me harder. He bangs his head into my chest. Pain flares around on my pecs and I release my hands from his chest. He comes in again and gets one of the clamps in his mouth and starts to gnaw on the tip of nipple. Now the pain is replaced by excruciating pleasure. My head is flopping around. I move my legs from just hanging down, to wrapping them around his waist, it’s my signal of submission. He takes his mouth off my nipple, jostles me up a bit and frees a hand. He moves the hand to his dick and positions it at my hole. I look down at him, he looks up at me, and spit onto his cheek. He squeezes my back with just his one arm and then rams his dick into me. “Ohhhh, fuckkkk...” I howl. He laughs and pushes me further down his unit until my ass is at the base of his dick. He moves his hands from my back and ass to my sides and he begins to slide me up and down. I pound on his chest. He flexes each time he sees the punches coming and they bounce off. He walks to the side of the bed, looks up to me, and says, “Ready?” then proceeds to jump off the bed without waiting for my reply. I squeeze my ass as fast and hard as I can to avoid the pain that will come when we hit the floor, but Cam takes the opportunity to smash me into his pelvis with delight and joy. I cry out in pain and he laughs. He uses my weakened condition to take advantage of me. He continues to raise and lower me on his dick. His biceps flex, a grab onto them and apply all the pressure I can, just so I can feel his strength. He knows he’s in control and starts to let his ego show by saying, “That’s right little man, feel those biceps, feel their strength and power.” I apply more pressure to them, but he just flexes them harder and continues his peacocking, “Holding your tiny body in the air like it weighs nothing. I could do this all day.” He jostles his hips to show me his dick is still rock hard and the dildo in his ass is not deterring him with the fun he is having. He bangs his head into my chest again and pain explodes in my body. I try to tighten my legs around his waist but he just laughs it off. I release his biceps and hold my arms out straight and widen them a bit. He senses what is coming, but cannot stop me. He warns me, “Don’t do it Ming. You do it and I will hurt you.” “Fuck you Cam.” I weakly say and quickly bring my arms together banging his ears simultaneously. He’s rocked. I do it again with a bit more force. He tightens his grip on my waist and tries to shove me further down his dick, as if there is any move to go down, I’m already at his hilt, dump blonde… I do it a third time and he stumbles backward to the bed. He sits on the edge. Good, he’s stunned. I push on his chest and force him to lay on the bed. I slowly extract my ass from his dick. He tries to push me back onto it, but I unexpectedly punch him in the abs and he doesn’t have time to flex. I can actually feel the dildo when I hit him. It feels weird and arousing. I punch him again, this time in the chest. He just flexes his pecs in time. I knee the dildo. He lets out a cry of pain. I move my body off his. I jump off the bed and move back a few feet. I don’t want him to be able to reach me when he recovers because he’s going to be mad as hell, and I’ll be his target. I glance around the bedroom for any toy I can use to keep him away while I recover. I gently pull the nipple clamps off and loss them away so he cannot get them. He leans up to his elbows on the bed. His eyes have a half crazed, half sensual look to them. I’m not sure if I should run away from him or to him. I stand still, like a deer in headlights. He reaches for the dildo and slowly pulls it out, all the way out. He holds up his index finger and gives me the ‘come here’ movement. I stand ramrod still. Not sure where he’s going with this, but need to be careful. “Come on Ming. You know you want to shove your dick in my ass.” I’m just staring at him, waiting for his next move. “I got you earlier today, now it’s your turn to get me.” He spreads his legs further apart and winks his hole at me. I’m staring at it and my dick is flexing on its own, with pre-cum dribbling out. He sees it and licks his lips. It doesn’t register to me until it’s too late, but he springs off the bed and pounces on me, knocking us both back into the wall. “Gotcha!” He lifts me up by my armpits, pushes me back against the wall, licks my chest and nipples, and then tosses me over his shoulder. I beat on his ass, he spanks mine and wiggles a finger into it for good measure. “Let’s go for a walk buddy.” Uh-oh. I start to struggle to get out of his grip, but he tightens his arms around my gets and says, “Not getting away this time.” He walks us out of the bedroom and down the hall to the other room, which used to be our office, but has been converted to a playroom. I’m still struggling to break free when we enter. He maneuvers me around and basically uses his arms to lift me off his shoulders and into the chair in the middle of the room. He puts one of my hands on the arm of the chair and closes the clamp. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Now he has both hands free and quickly gets my other arm and both legs locked into place. The room is painted a deep blue with dark curtains on the windows. We have two dressers with assorted items we use on each other. We also have a sling and a bunch of cords we use to tie each other up. Yeah, your basic S &M room. We’ve tried to sound proof the walls, but it’s hard to do, so we have gags and pillows to quiet any noises we know we’ll make. Cam caresses the side of my face and says, “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.” He leans down and bites my earlobe and slaps at my dick. He turns and walks out. “Fuck you Muscles.” “You had your chance Ming. Now it’s my turn again.” He laughs. I hear him make a quick pit stop in the bathroom, then hear him in the bedroom. He’s collecting everything and bringing it back. Shit, this could be a lot fun, or a real pain. He comes back into the room and shuts the door. He’s got his evil, superior smile on his face. “I couldn’t find the nipple clamps, you’re lucky. But I do have this stuff.” He holds up both dildos and the riding crop. I resolutely say, “Fine, do what you want. I can’t escape and you’re in a mood, so…” He stares at me blankly as if I just said I was leaving him. “Well, just take all the fun out of it why don’t you… Dammit Ming, I take an 8x10 inch dildo to the hilt for the first time and you just rain on my parade. Thanks.” He sounds genuinely disappointed, but this is not fun for me. “Why do I need to be strapped to the chair for us to have fun? I thought we were having a great time in the bedroom, didn’t you?” He nods yes ever so slightly, “Why ruin it by being an ass and strapping me here?” I ask while I nod my head towards the chair and surrounding room. “Let’s go back into the bedroom. I can put the nipple clamps back on and we can mess around with the toys there. You can show off for me and I promise to cum on your chest while you flex. That sound good to you?” “Can I fist you?” Sigh, “Yes.” “Good.” He comes over, nibbles my earlobe playfully, and frees me. I stand up, lick his face, and give him a few sloppy, saliva filled kisses while my hands yank on his dick and feel up his biceps, which he tenses for me. He squats down and tosses me back over his shoulder, and stands up. This time he playfully slaps at my ass and I run my fingers down and up his back, again, following the dragon tail tattoo. He takes us back to the bedroom and lifts me off his shoulder and flops me on the bed, face up. He then jumps up, spreads his arms and legs out wide, like he is flying, and lands right on top of me. Chest to chest, dick to dick, face next to my face. I let out an oomph and wrap my arms and legs around his body and hold myself close to him. He says, “I should have made you put the nipple clamps back before I jumped on you.” I wink at him and say, “They’re right over there on the floor. I can put them back on if you want to jump on me again, Muscles.” He springs up, grabs them and hands them to me. I take my sweet time putting them back on, making sure to extenuate each movement and letting out a guttural moan as the clamps lock on. He is practically foaming at the mouth. I lick my lips with my tongue like I am wrapping it around his unit and licking off his pre-cum or cum. I roll my eyes. “Jesus Christ Ming, hurry the fuck up. I hate when you tease me like this.” I wink at him again and he licks his lips and adjusts his junk, taking a quick couple yanks to keep the pre-cum flowing. I take an extra couple seconds to make sure they’re secure and then slowly lower myself back onto the bed. As I let me head fall, I see he is already in flight. He lands squarely on my body. He rubs his chest against mine, and my nipples are alive with pain and pleasure. I again wrap my arms around him, look him in the eyes and ask, “Feel better buddy? Cuz I do.” And I sensually move my dick against his rock hard abs. He smiles, and rolls over so I’m on top. He wraps his arms around me and looks into my eyes. He winks, jostles his hips, letting his dick bang me in the ass, so I know he’s rock hard, and leans up for a kiss. While we kiss he repositions his body and slides his dick into me. Once he’s in, he breaks our kiss. He says, “Lean up.” In a commanding voice. I comply. I put my hands on his chest for stability and press my legs to his sides. He flexes his chest and I rub his nipples and start to tug on them again. He starts moving his hips in an upward/downward motion, which lifts me off the bed. His movements are nice and slow. He reaches his right hand up and gently grasps the chain linking the clamps. He tugs it and I sigh. He bats it from side to side. My eyes roll up into my head. I move my right hand from his chest to his left bicep. I roughly grope at it. He flexes it to its full 19 inches. I apply more pressure and he laughs off my attempts at trying to dent it. I spit on him. He bangs my dick roughly and punches me in the chest. I spit on him again. He thrusts upward viciously. I feel him in me completely. I squeeze my asshole shut trying to keep as much of his vein covered thick dick inside me. I punch him in the abs and notice he does not flex to deflect them punch. He wants to feel me punching him and see me getting excited about it. I hit him again. He smiles and flexes his left bicep even harder. I get harder. He sees my dick thumping him on his abs and he grasps the clamp to my left nipple and angrily pulls it off. I howl in pain. He pulls me down to him and immediately starts to kiss me to ease my pain. I beat the sides of his chest. He wraps his arms around me and holds me tight, not crushing me like his bear hug from earlier, but more tenderly. I push off his chest and punch him twice more, once to each pec. He smiles and gives me the nod to continue. I make fists and start to pound on him. He puts both hands behind his head, letting me know my punches really don’t hurt him. He’s such a cocky fucker. He flexes his dick to let me know it’s still in me and hard. I smile and grind my hips back into him. He bucks once or twice. He moves his arms from behind his head and puts them on my sides and raises me up off his dick. He pulls my body up his, over his abs, nipples, and chest. My dick it right at his mouth. He leans up, opens wide, and starts to engulf me. I put my hands on the headboard of the bed for support. He takes his time swallowing me. I know he’ll take me to the root, it’s just a matter of how fast he wants to do it. I have no choice as he is muscling me into him. He has me ¾ swallowed and I am moaning with pleasure when I feel his left hand at my ass. Uh-oh, he’s getting ready to put it in me. I squirm around, bang his head a few times until he looks up. “If you’re going in, I want you to lube up your fingers and hand.” He nods ok. I reach for the lube which we left on the bed from earlier. I squeeze a huge blob onto his right hand. He rubs both hands together and once they are completely covered he motions for me to get off him. I get off and move to the edge of the bed and lay on my back, legs up and spread eagle. He jumps off and puts his face right into my ass and starts to massage my hole with tongue. I pucker it once or twice and he darts his tongue in when he has the chance. Once I am sufficiently lubed with spit he puts his index finger at my hole and inserts it. I feel no pain. He starts a nice in and out motion. Once he’s going, he slips in a 2nd and then 3rd finger. Now I can feel him. He’s using the three fingers and spreading my asshole open. I try to relax as much as possible, but every once in while he stretches it too much and I yelp. He leans down and nibbles on my nipples and roughly kisses me. I pound on his chest and he grins and flexes his pecs. I lean up and nibble on his pecs. He sighs and inserts a 4th finger. I gasp and he shoves his thumb in. I start to squirm. He puts his free hand on my chest and steadies me. He kisses me again and says, “I’ll be gentle, at first.” And gives me a wink. He grabs the lube and moves back to my ass. He squeezes a glob onto his hand and massages it all over and starts to work it into the part which is already in me. I grasp the bedspread with both hands and squeeze my eyes shut for the next part. “Ready?” “No.” “Ok.” And shoves the rest of his hand in. “FUCKKKKKKK!!!! Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh fuck.” A tear escapes my eye. “You’re doing well.” Cam rubs my abs and chest with his free hand. He yanks my dick a few times and I start to leak. He scoops some up and brings it to my lips. I lick at his fingers as if the pre-cum were my last meal. He starts to wiggle his fingers in my ass. Very gentle and soft movements so I can get used to it. I wiggle a bit and he once again steadies me with his free hand. How can this guy, who I was just spitting on and punching on the chest, be so gentle to me while his right hand is shoved up my ass? I reach for his arm and stroke the muscles on his forearm. He tenses them while staring into my blue eyes. I stare back into his green eyes and see them sparkle with love and affection. He winks and then nods ever so slightly. I nod back. He pushes his arm in a bit more. I resume my death grip on the bedspread. He starts to withdraw his arm, but stops when his wrist gets to the hole. He then starts back in. “You’re the stud tonight Ming, not me.” I say, “Thank you.” Thru gritted teeth. “You have no idea how much the means to me right now.” “Ha-ha. You ready to take it up a notch?” he asks as he wiggles his fingers again. “Go slowly princess.” His fingers spread out and expand the walls of my ass causing me to flinch. “You need to be nicer to the princess who has his arm shoved up your ass.” He starts to pull his hand out again and pushes it back in. He’s getting a nice easy pace going on. I relax a bit and he notices. His free hand grabs my dick and he does a couple quick yanks. He then tweaks my right nipple and I sigh. He pushes more of his arm into me until he is mid-forearm in. He tenses his arm muscles and I feel my hole widen. I moan loudly and he smiles. He keeps up the in and out motion and spreads his fingers every couple strokes. I am finally at ease with his arm in me and he senses it. “You ready to be rocked buddy?” he asks. I look at him quizzically. He grins and moves his body back toward my ass. “I’ll go slowly and it may be a bit painful at first, but it will definitely rock your world and make you cum like a geyser.” I nod yes hesitantly. He gives me a wink and blows me a kiss. “Brace yourself.” I go rigid as possible. I am leaning up on my elbows so I can see what he’s doing. He starts to flex his right bicep. I whisper, “Fuck no.” “Oh yeah, Ming. Enjoy the ride.” He flexes his bicep some more and I see sweat start to form on his face. I feel his arm and hand inside me start to pull my body upwards. I keep my torso as still as possible, but feel my back lift higher than it is. He’s fucking lifting me with his forearm. I release my elbows from the bed and let him feel my full torso weight on his arm, just so he knows what he’s dealing with. “You’re lighter than I thought Ming. This is going to be a piece of cake.” I grab my dick and start to yank it in response. I want Cam to see me as excited about his strength as he is about showing it off. He smiles and flexes harder. Veins start to pop out on his bicep. I am at a 45 degree angle when he pauses. He licks his lips and starts to lower me down. I move my elbows back towards the bed to ease the weight, but he barks “No!” and I leave them at my side. He finishes lowering me and takes a deep breath. “You didn’t cum, damn. Guess we need to do it again.” He starts to flex his bicep again and I see it is at the full 19 inches, if not more. He is drenched in sweat and loving every minute of it. “What’s it going to take to make you cum, Ming? Maybe this?” and I feel him spread out his fingers inside my ass. Again, I moan loudly and continue to yank my dick. He laughs, “Getting closer. How about this.” He gets me to 45 degrees and holds me there. He keeps his fingers spread out. I’m still yanking my dick and want to hold off as long as possible, so I can cum on his chest as I promised. He eyes me up and moves his head to my dick. He uses his other hand to pry my fingers off and then proceeds to swallow me to the hilt. “Oh Fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck…” He is sucking and massaging my dick like a calf sucking a cow’s teat. I wrap my hands around his head and force him further down onto my unit, if that is possible. He’s gagging on my dick, spreading and closing his fingers in my hole and flexing his bicep, all at the same time. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Cam….” I feel his free arm slip around my back and pull me to 90 degrees. He also pulls me to the edge of the bed. “No Cam, you’ll hurt yourself. Don’t do it.” Too late. He pulls my body to his, squats down, braces his legs, and lifts me up. Hand in ass, mouth sucking me wildly, and other arm supporting my lower back. I put my hands on his muscular shoulders for support. He starts to wiggle the fingers in my ass like he is waving good-bye to me. He pulls his mouth off my cock, slowly lowers me until his right elbow is at his side, but his forearm is still wedged inside of me. My dick is now chest level with him. He looks up to me and casually says, “You can now cum on my chest Ming.” And I explode onto him without touching myself. I convulse three times and ropes of cum stream out and coat his face and chest. “Good boy.” He uses his tongue to lap at any cum on his face he can reach. He lowers me back onto the bed and slowly withdraws his arm. He gets to the ring of my ass and says, “Brace yourself.” I nod and he quickly jerks his hand out. I scream in pain and shoot another half load out onto my chest. He falls onto me roughly, but with a huge smile on his cum-covered face. I lick my own cum off him and then we kiss long and lovingly. I wrap my arms and legs around him again and squeeze him to me. He breaks our kiss, leans up, and lets me grab his rock hard cock. I toy with it for a bit. “Stop fucking around Ming and make me cum. If you don’t, I’m going to put my arm back into you.” “And that would be a bad thing, Muscles?” I blow him a kiss and go to town on his unit. I am tugging with all my might and he leans back onto his hunches. His abs and chest are so well defined and on display. I run my free hand over them. I increase my tempo and grip. He closes his eyes. I haul back and punch him in the abs. He smiles and says, “Do it again.” Without opening his eyes. I oblige and start to whale on him. Punch after punch to his abs and lower chest, all the while jerking him like I’m trying to pull his dick off his body. He continues to smile. I stop punching him and take a different approach. I put my free hand under his ball sack and start to massage the area. He moans and breathlessly says, “Oh…fuck.” And boom, it’s his turn to explode. Four shots come firing out of him. First one lands on the headboard behind me. Second one leaves a line from my forehead to pecs. Third one is a puddle on my abs. The last one is a mess on my hand. I look up to see him staring into my blue eyes with excitement and pleasure. “That was fucking awesome.” “Back at you Muscles.” And he collapses back down onto me for a deep cum laden kiss. We continue to roll around on the bed for a while, exploring each other, until Cam drifts off to sleep and I follow soon, after snuggling up next to him and draping my arm over his chest.

Thanks! I needed that!

After this Chapter I've gained a little more love for Andy and Mitch, but I'm still #TeamBruce all the way

M man. This was awesome. Andy's dna is perfect for that gear i guess and teh thing is he is not done growing. He shot himself with six doses. Im sure Bruce will be back. I have a feeling

Two Bryan Macleod led Billy and I into what looked like a small meeting room, mostly taken up a large round table and a dozen chairs. A large flat screen TV was the only other notable furnishing in the room. “Take a seat, guys,” Bryan instructed. As I shuffled into my seat, I glanced over at Billy, who still had that same disgruntled expression on his face. Bryan remained standing at the front of the room, and began to address us. “OK, guys, first I’d just like to say a big welcome to the film crew. You already know me as Bryan. I’m also part of the crew you’ll be working with today. We’ve been accepting students from your university for a few years now on placements, and it’s always great to have extra hands to help out. Hopefully you will learn a lot from our camera guys. I understand bodybuilding might not be of much interest to either of you, but we find most students who work with us on our placements end up enjoying soaking up the atmosphere of being at a bodybuilding competition.” I looked over at Billy to see him rolling his eyes in a disapproving manner, before veering my eyes back to Bryan. Big, sexy Bryan with his furry forearms and meaty gym trained chest bulging underneath his brilliantly sloganed t-shirt. Lovely, friendly Bryan, who is clearly gay and quite possibly just as crazily turned on by huge, freaky muscle as I was. Hot, woofy Bryan who was about to unleash a torrent of words which would have me squirming in my seat and cause my face to turn a shade of red akin to a lobster with a sunburn. “Let me tell you a bit about what we do here. We specialise in filming bodybuilding and fitness videos for the Internet. Everything and anything muscle related we film. Training and workout videos, weightlifting contests, and, of course, bodybuilding shows. In addition to filming the actual competitions, we also often shoot some behind the scenes pump room footage. This is what you guys will be helping us out with today. You’ll be helping to film the bodybuilders pump and pose…” Oh fuck! Pump and pose! Two simple words. One epic boner! “…before they head out to the stage. We like to get really close up to the muscle when the bodybuilders are pumping up…” Pant pant pant! “…so our viewers can really see how huge and ripped the bodybuilders are.” FUUUUUUUUCKK!!! Are you TRYING to make me spunk my pants on the spot Bryan?! “We like to give the bodybuilders a little bit of encouragement to hit some poses for the camera, but most of the guys don’t actually need it. They’ll be voluntarily posing themselves. These guys love the camera, they love to flex, and they LOVE to show off how shredded they are.” Estimated time before I splat my pants: 5 seconds!! “Let me warn you both. Some of these guys are not just big. They’re monstrous.” Make that 3 seconds. WOOF FUCKING WOOF!! “You’ll be filming some of the most jacked up, flat out freaky amateur muscle bulls, not just in the State, but in the country.” Oh fuck! Mind = blown! Jacked up?! Awesome! Flat out freaky?! Incredible! Muscle bulls. BULLS?! Bryan Macleod, I want your furry forearmed babies. Now! I had read these kinds of descriptions of bodybuilders on the Internet before, but I didn’t think I’d ever hear anyone say them out loud in person. I couldn’t quite get my head around what was happening. Hearing a person, not just any person, but one as sexy as Bryan, unashamedly talking about muscle, and describing bodybuilders in such an unapologetic and unspeakably hot way was like a revelation. The other thing I loved about Bryan’s descriptions was the fact that when he uttered the words “monstrous” and “flat out freaky” his mouth curled into a small, self satisfied grin; like he was getting some kind of kick out of saying these crazy, alien words to two guys who didn’t look like they had any business or interest in any conversation involving bodybuilders. I tentatively looked over at Billy Horvath, sitting in the chair next to me. The look Billy was giving Bryan was part disdain, part horror, and part utter confusion. As I wondered what the hell might have been going through Billy’s over opinionated mind in that moment, I couldn’t help feel somewhat amused at his expense, which, at least, helped to ease my slight embarrassment just a little. However, when I looked up to see Bryan MacWoofityWoof reaching for the remote control for the television at the front of the room, along with another twinge of panic, I had a strong suspicion my embarrassment was about to return by the bucket load. Bryan addressed Billy and I again. “OK, guys…” Do NOT play one of your videos. “…I thought I’d give you an idea…” Oh God no! PLEASE God no! “…of the kind of thing you’ll be helping to film today.” FUCKING FUCK NO! I can NOT sit here in a room of people, not just people, Billy Hor-fucking-vath people, and watch the kind of indecently pumped muscle freaks that I regularly blow massive creamy loads to! “So, I’m going to play you a video featuring some clips from the last bodybuilding show we helped to film.” If there was ever a moment where I could suddenly develop a superpower of my choice it would have been then. I’d chose the ability to pause time, grab my jacket and get the hell out of that room, leaving Billy to watch Bryan’s video of freakishly shredded muscle bulls pumping and posing their shiny trunks off, and sparing me from my inevitable mortifying embarrassment. I’d take a sneaky detour to the pump room, find that incredibly handsome mass of gorgeously pumped, phenomenally monstrous muscle Blaine Holton, who I’d spotted in the foyer not half an hour before, walk right up to his superhuman sized, beef packed frame, cheekily unzip the jacket of his black tracksuit to reveal a mass of bumpy, bulgy, deliciously thick muscle underneath, tentatively place both hands on those dense balloons of beef hanging from his chest, give them both a firm squeeze, then quickly head to the theatre exit, having no doubt ejaculated in my trousers before my hands even made contact with Blaine’s incredible, otherworldly body, and running as far away from the venue as I could. As Bryan played with the TV remote control and lined up the kind of footage I’d usually only watch alone, in the comfort of my bedroom, and would usually result in my boxer briefs lying in a sticky, crumpled ball in the corner of my bedroom, all the nerves and feelings of anxiety I had experienced in the lead up to the day returned with a vengeance, only this time they’d bought along a few friends, in the form of sheer embarrassment, and plain old fear. I was right back where I was in Professor Walsh’s classroom, nervously putting my seemingly innocent piece of paper with my choices for my work experience placement in the red box on her desk, praying that no one noticed, and thus, suspected why I had been reduced to a bag of nerves. Only this was much, much worse. I felt like the secret I had kept for years was about to be exposed. Worse, it was about to be plastered on a TV screen which I was being forced to watch in the company of others, and there was no escape. All it would take was one glance from Billy or Bryan and I would be rumbled. They would take one look at my nervous, uncomfortable, embarrassed face and, somehow, instantly know that I had a fetish for huge, ripped muscle. My thoughts were interrupted by the inoffensive rock music which made up the soundtrack of the video. This was it. The only escape would be if the video were to miraculously refuse to play, for the TV to suddenly blow a fuse, or for the building’s fire alarm to sound, causing for a quick evacuation. Luckily, Bryan sat down to watch the video with his back to me and Billy, who I refused to look at. I was frozen stiff. If I didn’t look at Billy and if Bryan stayed transfixed on the TV with his back to me, I might just get away with them noticing what a nervous mess I’d turned into. But what about when the video had finished, and Bryan was facing me again? And if watching a video of monstrously huge muscle freaks in the company of others reduced me to a nervous wreck, how was I going to cope when I was standing in an actual pump room, surrounded by real life monstrously huge muscle freaks pumping up their ridiculous sized muscles and flexing mere feet away from me? As my mind suddenly went into sheer panic mode, the image of the most shockingly sized bodybuilder flashed on the screen. The clip was in slow motion, as the freak in question strutted towards the camera, his body a mass of beautifully bronzed, mammoth sized, carved to perfection muscle, bulging, rippling and fighting for space on his torso. With both hands placed on his enormous sized, vein splattered quads, he cranked down into a most muscular, every muscle tightening and locking into place, his eyes tightly shut, and his mouth widened into an outrageously cocky expression, as if he were roaring like an animal. Seeing this image while in the company of others was the single most surreal moment of my life up until that point. I’d watched endless similar clips of bodybuilders before, but for some reason, in this environment, sitting in a room with two other people, it felt like I was watching muscle for the very first time. The sheer shock and surrealism of the situation completely rid me of the panic and nerves which had consumed me not three seconds before. As quickly as the muscle monster who had just completely shook me of all my senses had appeared, he was gone, and replaced by the image of another bodybuilder. This one even bigger and freakier, showing off his otherworldly body by blasting a massive front double bicep with the cheekiest, proudest smile etched across his handsome, All American, clean cut face. One phenomenally huge, alien-like muscle monster after another flashed on the TV screen. As I watched in complete awe and amazement, I suddenly found my mouth curling into a smile, which, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to stop. Not only was I amused at the surrealism of the situation I had found myself in, but I was beginning to get a real buzz from sitting in a room, watching these massive muscle monsters flex and pose, with two people who, to my knowledge, had no idea of the effect these kind of images had on me. My feelings of fear and anxiety had gone, and been replaced by those of excitement and sheer adrenaline. The video switched from clips of bodybuilders on stage, to clips of bodybuilders in a pump room. Close up shots of thick, twitchy pecs, gloriously pumped biceps and deeply carved, six pack abdominals flashed on the screen. Muscle bulls pumped up, beef monsters hit poses into the camera, oil was seen being slapped onto hard, thick muscle, and outrageously shiny, brightly coloured posing trunks lit up the TV screen. As a clip of an impossibly cute, Latino guy with hard, shredded muscle encased in gorgeous, silky skin crunching down into an abs and thighs pose, his cheeks puffed out to the max, before transforming his face into a smug grimace of self satisfaction and effort as he cranked down hard on his tight, peeled midsection, and wriggled his upper body from side to side, I glanced over at Billy Horvath for the first time since the video had started. Since meeting Billy outside the auditorium that morning, his facial expressions had ranged from judgement and disdain, to disgust and disapproval. Now for the first time ever, Billy looked genuinely scared. Gone was the self important, over opinionated, pretentious twat I’d come to loathe in the short few months I’d been in Professor Walsh’s class, and in place, was a lost boy, who looked completely out of his depth, painfully uncomfortable, and more than anything, just plain terrified. This was presumably the first time Billy had ever seen anything like the freaky, hardcore muscle beasts he was being forced to watch. I may not have particularly liked Billy, but that didn’t stop me from feeling sorry for him.

Amazingly, during the days which followed before my next class, where I would find out the outcome of my placement, my mind felt fairly relaxed. Every now and then I would experience a moment of sheer panic that I had made a huge mistake. To make myself feel better, I reasoned that even if I got the placement and I decided at the very last moment if I couldn’t go through with it, I could always just fake an illness. It wasn’t until I was sat back in Professor Walsh’s classroom that the butterflies started to kick in. I was anxiously waiting for some kind of eye contact from the Professor, wondering whether she would glance at me again and her expression would give away her thoughts on why this slim guy, who clearly had no obvious interest in bodybuilding, would chose it as one of his placement options. So far, there was nothing, but the nerves were growing by the second in anticipation of what was to come. It was only until about ten minutes before the end of the lesson that I was put out of my misery. As copies of the list were handed around to raised, excited voices, my nerves were unbearable. It literally felt like someone was squeezing the insides of my stomach. I desperately tried not to look at Professor Walsh in case we made eye contact. Whatever suspicions had already formed in her head would certainly be further fuelled by the fact I had suddenly turned into a quivering mess. As the pile of lists made it’s way down my row of desks towards me, I suddenly realised how badly I actually wanted to see my name against the bodybuilding placement. A muscle video I had watched the previous night suddenly flashed in my head, and as I thought about the insanely handsome, competition conditioned muscle monster pumping up his enormous, paper thin skin encased biceps backstage at a bodybuilding show in his indecently shiny blue posing trunks I had shot a load to, the list was in my hands, my eyes were shooting down the page, and there it was. Filming Backstage at a Local Bodybuilding Competition CHARLIE STEATHAM YES!! My heart leaped into my throat, and the nerves were suddenly replaced by sheer elation. But then, as I looked again, I noticed I wasn’t the only person on the placement. Filming Backstage at a Local Bodybuilding Competition CHARLIE STEATHAM BILLY HORVATH OH GOD!! BILLY HOR-FUCKING-VATH OH PLEASE GOD NO!! I had been so fraught with whether to put the placement as one of my choices in the first place, and what the Professor would think if I did, that I hadn’t given a second thought to the person I would actually be sharing the placement with, and even if I had, I would have never anticipated it would be the most annoying, obnoxious and unlikeable person in the class. In my few short months at the university, I don’t think I had ever seen Billy Horvath crack anything even closely resembling a smile. He was a pretentious, joyless, friendless individual with an opinion on everything, which was often opposed to that of everyone else in the class, including Professor Walsh. He was just about the last person I would ever want to share any kind of experience with, least of all this one. I glanced over at Billy, who was staring at the list. His face was red, his teeth were clenched, and he looked like he was about thirty seconds away from committing some violent act of crime. Billy was not a happy man at the best of times, but I knew the face of an incredibly pissed off person when I saw it. I usually didn’t waste too much time in getting my things together and leaving the classroom after my lectures had finished, and this one was no different. That was until I saw a flustered and determined looking Billy charging towards the Professor’s desk. I purposely held myself back, pretending to read the lecture notes I had just spent the last hour making, glancing up discreetly to see what was going on between Billy and the Professor. I wasn’t close enough to hear the conversation, but Billy was aggravated and clearly not happy, while the Professor looked diplomatic but stern, firmly shaking her head, which only seemed to aggravate Billy more. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what the conversation entailed. Billy was clearly trying to argue his way out of being on his chosen placement, and Walsh was firmly telling him that he was staying on it, whether he liked it or not. As much fun as it was to see Billy getting some sort of comeuppance for generally being the obnoxious person he was, this was one occasion where I would have liked to have seen fate on his side. When an enraged Billy had left, and the Professor was left subtly shaking her head at her desk, I quickly gathered my things to make an exit. Have you ever known something was about to happen before it actually does? Almost like for a split second you develop this psychic ability, and somehow you just know what’s about to occur, and then a second later, it does? That’s exactly what happened to me when Professor Walsh called my name just before I reached the door to exit the classroom, and even though I knew it was going to happen, I was still taken a back when it did. “Charlie!” Fuck! “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Fuck fuck shitting buggering fuck!! A jolt of fear shot through me. Not long before, I had been desperately trying to avoid eye contact with her and now she wanted to speak to me, and I had absolutely no idea what it was she had to say. As I tentatively edged towards the Professor’s desk, she was looking at me with a look of genuine concern. “Charlie, I just wanted to make sure you are OK with your placement?” You mean you want to know why the hell I want to spend an entire day surrounded by a bunch of disgustingly muscular, grotesquely huge muscle FREAKS of nature caked in oil and tan and wearing nothing but brightly coloured posing pouches? Of course, this could have been my opportunity to offer some kind of explanation as to why someone like me would have the slightest bit of interest in being involved in the filming of a bodybuilding competition., even if that explanation were ultimately to be a lie. But I just couldn’t think that fast. “Erm…yeah. I mean it’s an opportunity to gain some hands on experience isn’t it?” I reasoned. And a years supply of material for the fucking WANK BANK in my head!! Grrrrr-RUFF!! “I know it wasn’t your first choice but competition was really tough this year. A lot of students weren’t placed on any of their choices,” she explained. Your bother’s a bodybuilder. Tell her your brother’s a bodybuilder. THAT’S why you chose the placement. You have some small, vague interest and knowledge of bodybuilding because your brother is a bodybuilder. “Well to be honest, I didn’t think my chances of getting a place on the other two were that great, so I thought I’d pick one of the more interesting placements from the obscure options that I didn’t think would that be popular.” I didn’t make a habit of lying but in some instances, like this one, it was necessary. She smiled, and I could see in her face that she was genuine and sincere, and any possible suspicions I thought she may have had were all just paranoid thoughts in my head. “I knew you’d have a mature attitude about the experience, Charlie, and I know you’re the type of person who will gain something out of whatever type of filming you’re placed on,” she continued. I decided in that moment that I actually really liked Professor Walsh. I suddenly had an image of randomly running into her at an obscure book launch in New York in five years time, where she’d confess to me how she’d always thought I was the student who had the potential to achieve the most out of my class. “And you know we’ve had students on this placement before and we’ve generally had really good feedback. Some of the smaller camera crews let you get a lot more involved in the filming than the bigger ones. I think you might be pleasantly surprised, Charlie.” Pleasantly surprised at how many times I manage NOT to instantly ejaculate in my pants?! I was genuinely excited to hear this, and nodded along, but my mind had also, once again, drifted to the online video I’d watched the night before of the bodybuilder backstage at a competition pumping and posing for the camera. More than once whilst watching it, I’d imagined that I was on the other side of that camera, mere inches away from him. It was probably best that the Professor was wrapping up our conversation at this point, as something just a little south of my belt buckle was beginning to swell. I started to leave when she called me back. “Oh, and, Charlie, try not to let anyone…” she paused for a moment, as if trying to find appropriate word to use, “affect your experience.” Her eyes widened, and it was as close as her expression could get to rolling her eyes or acting inappropriately for a Professor. She was clearly talking about my new filming buddie, Mr Horvath. In that moment, and for the first time, I suddenly developed a curiosity as to what Billy would make of the pumped up muscle monsters we’d be filming a week on Saturday. I couldn’t help smiling at the thought of small, weedy, over opinionated Billy surrounded by a bunch of humongous, egotistical bodybuilders, pumping, posing and flexing their superhuman sized muscle. As I left the Professor’s classroom and headed back to my dorm room, a huge smile erupted on my face. The whole situation suddenly felt incredibly surreal and exciting, and for that moment at least, all of the nerves, doubts and fears had all but disappeared. If only they had stayed that way the morning of the work placement. The morning of the actual bodybuilding competition that was about to take the place in the arts theatre I was staring at head on, wondering what on earth I had been thinking to ever believe I could actually go through with the experience. The nerves hadn’t just reappeared that moment either. They’d been slowly creeping back for the days leading up to the placement, getting stronger and more unsettling. With the big day finally here, I felt like my stomach had literally been invaded by a group of miniature people who were tying every single one of my intestines into the tightest of knots. I was an absolute wreck, and before I had time to run in the opposite direction to hide under my duvet, never to face Professor Walsh or set foot in her classroom again, the unwelcome, short, slight figure of Billy Horvath was obnoxiously striding towards me, looking as characteristically gloomy as ever. Billy Horvath always seemed like he was about ten seconds away from saying something that would annoy, offend, or insult you. “So, you’re the other sucker who got this joke of a placement?” Annoyed? Check! “Professor Walsh must think as highly of you as she does of me!” Offended? Check! “Maybe if you actually made some contribution to the class every now and then her opinion might change!” Insulted? Check check fucking CHECK!! Billy clearly liked the sound of his own voice outside of Professor Walsh’s lectures as much as he did during them. “So, Charlie Steatham, can you please tell me what the hell we’re supposed to learn from being at a place like this?” he asked. Oooh…erm…I dunno Billy. How about learning how NOT to be an absolute fucking TWAT?! “Ummm, well we are gonna be operating cameras on a legitimate film crew,” I reasoned. Billy scoffed. “Do you know I didn’t tell anyone where I was going today? I’m that embarrassed,” he exclaimed. “I could be on an actual movie set, or at a television studio right now. Even a music video for a shitty boy band would be better than this. I mean, bodybuilding? Ugh! It’s fucking gross. A bunch of disgusting, brain-dead, meatheads.” Twat twat wanking buggering TWAT!! “And I see your as full of opinions as ever, Steatham?” I wasn’t a confrontational person, but Billy was pushing me to the edge. “Look, Billy, I really don’t care where we are or what we’re filming,” I explained. “I just want to get in there and see what I can gain from the whole thing. You know, make the most of this opportunity? Did anyone force you to come today?” “Oh, he has a voice! Some more of that in class and you might actually end up on a real studio set instead of standing outside here next time.” Billy was beginning to really aggravate me. “I have a voice. I just don’t feel the need to use it at every given opportunity. You see, I also have this thing called social awareness. Knowing when people don’t want to hear my voice. Knowing when people actually want me to shut up.” Billy’s eyes were wider than I’d ever seen them. He’d got the message, so he responded in typically obnoxious, annoying fashion. He sarcastically sucked his lips into his mouth while animatedly nodding, and imitating the action of a zip going over his lips with his fingers. I sighed, and shook my head. I waited for him to say something, but he wasn’t budging. Neither was that idiotic, wide eyed, lips sucked in, “not saying a word” expression. I stared at the theatre head on, and a very slight twitch of nerves fluttered in my stomach, which amazingly, felt pretty good, because it was about fifty times less intense than what I had felt before Billy’s arrival. For all his incredible annoyances, Billy had calmed my nerves. As he followed me towards the theatre, I realised how comforting it was to have someone with me in this incredibly nerve wrecking experience. Even if that person was someone like Billy Horvath. The whole experience suddenly became very real the moment I was stood in the theatre foyer and facing a huge poster with the words BODYBUILDING CHAMPIONSHIPS boldly written on it, and a large picture of the head and upper torso of a massive, ripped, competition conditioned muscle freak. His ridiculously huge, insanely shredded torso was exploding into a crab most muscular pose. Every flat out freaky inch of him was painted in bronzed tan. His body a mass of bumps, ripples and veins. His phenomenally sized arms were flexed to the max, and his traps were bulging up to his earlobes. As he squeezed every incredible, otherworldly muscle, his eyes were jammed tight shut, and his mouth was forced as wide open as humanly possible in the most unashamedly arrogant and testosterone fuelled facial expression. Although it was the kind of image I’d become so accustomed to seeing, ever since I innocently browsed through that magazine in my parents living room all those years ago, it was also the type of thing I’d only ever seen in the privacy of my own bedroom. But here it was in a public setting. This large, bold, unapologetic image of a monstrous sized, shredded to the heavens, outrageously cocky muscle bull in all his absurdly conditioned, arrogantly superior glory. Staring at me as if to say, “Yes, Charlie, this crazy world of extreme muscle you’ve been fantasising over all these years really does exist, and you’ve just stepped smack bang into the middle of it.” I nervously looked over at Billy, who was staring at the poster with his mouth hanging slightly open and his face curled into an expression of confusion, disgust, and pure fear. Before I had time to guess what was going through his head, I suddenly had my first glimpse of some genuine, real life muscle. My heat fluttered and my eyes widened at the image of a bodybuilder who I instantly recognised as Blaine Holton, standing with his arms folded, talking to a regular, non bodybuilding guy. Although he was covered up by a black tracksuit, he looked absolutely monstrous, with a torso which looked about twice the width of the man he was talking to. Blaine Holton was stupidly handsome and masculine looking, with the craziest square lantern jaw, and a massive, gorgeous smile he loved to flash at the camera. He was outrageously cocky too. In the few online videos I’d seen of him, he’d cheekily scrunched up his gorgeous face, and arrogantly snapped his mouth wide open as if shouting a loud, cocky, “YEAH!” while flexing and squeezing his muscle, which just so happened to be astonishingly thick and dense. Like massive, fleshy balloons of beef bulging off his carcass, all shrink wrapped in the tightest and most attractive silky smooth skin. Not only was I very well acquainted with this mountain of incredible muscle, I’d lost countless amounts of cum watching him flex, squeeze, pump and pose. And now, here he was, standing just yards away from me, looking even more incredibly handsome than in any picture I’d seen, or any video I’d watched. His competition ready muscle bursting underneath his clothing, ready to pump and pose for a camera I could quite possibly be on the other side of in the none too distant future. My thoughts were broken as an overly cheerful, slim man in a checked shirt, clutching a clipboard, approached me and Billy. “Are you guys looking for directions?” He’d clearly been trained on how to be pleasant and cheerful, even if someone like Billy, who was glaring at him with a look of disdain, was so unnecessarily rude to him. “We’re here to do some work,” I replied, before pausing. It was absurd given where we were, but I was a little embarrassed to say the words out loud, but I had no choice, so I continued. “Filming backstage at the bodybuilding show?” I felt myself blushing slightly at saying the word “bodybuilding” out loud. It was a fairly controversial word at the best of times, but for me, it also had so much hidden meaning to it. “Ahhh, I’ll just find someone to assist you guys.” As Mr Cheerful disappeared, Billy broke his record five minutes of silence. “I can not believe I am here,” he said slowly through gritted teeth. “Let’s just make the most of it shall we, Billy?” I sighed. I was determined not to let him get the better of me. It wasn’t long before Mr Cheerful was bouncing back towards us with another man in tow. “OK, gentlemen, this is Bryan Macleod. He’s part of the film crew and you’ll be reporting to him today.” Bryan Macleod was in his late thirties, possibly early forties. Although no one could have mistaken him for being one of the competitors in the day’s bodybuilding show, he’d clearly spent a fair few hours at the gym. He was broad, with a full and thick looking chest which bulged underneath his bright blue t-shirt, which also nicely showed off his pumped, modestly sized biceps, and exposed his solid looking, slightly furry forearms. He was bald, but in a sexy way, and although he was very masculine and butch looking, his big, slightly twinkly eyes and the rather gorgeous, warm smile he wore as he introduced himself, gave him a slight pretty boy quality. A very slight femininity in his voice and his general mannerisms couldn’t hide the fact that to the eager eye, he was, in fact, gay. As his warm strong hand gripped and shook mine, I instantly felt an attraction. Bryan gave Billy the same warm, friendly introduction he had given me, and Billy gave him the same rude, unfriendly response he had given everyone that day. “OK, guys, if you’d like to follow me I’ll give you a quick overview of what you’ll be doing today. Then I’ll introduce you to some of the camera crew and get you started.” As Bryan turned, the printed words of “LIVE FOR THE PUMP” were revealed on the back of his t-shirt. I couldn’t help but smile. I’d known Bryan for approximately four minutes and not only did I have a huge amount of respect for him, I also suddenly had a yearning desire to be like him. A confident, well muscled gay guy who not only worked on a camera crew filming huge, shredded muscle freaks at a bodybuilding competition, but was also confident enough to walk around in public wearing t-shirt’s with cheeky muscle related phrases. I suddenly wondered whether there was any chance that he was as completely crazy about, and insanely turned on by muscle as I was? As I followed the built, butch, sexy figure of Bryan Macleod (who in my head I’d now nicknamed Bryan MacWoofityWoof) across the foyer of the theatre, through some double doors and along some corridors, with a sulky Billy Horvath (who in my head I’d now nicknamed Billy Hor-FuckOffAndDisappearUpYourOwnArse-vath) in tow, not knowing what the next few hours were about to entail, the nerves had all but disappeared, and all I could feel now was an overwhelming mixture of excitement and elation.

Chapter 7 “What are we going to do with him Mitch!” I screamed, clearly freaking out. Mitch paced near the front door. He had locked the gym and pulled the blinds down. “I don’t know Andy. He won’t be asleep forever! Wait!” Mitch yelled and took off running upstairs; leaving me downstairs, alone with Bruce. I glanced at his unconscious body. Even motionless he was truly massive. My mind was still not able to comprehend how he was growing so fast. He was massive when he humiliated me at the gym but just a few months later he dwarfed even himself. It was then that I saw his duffle bag near the front door. I rushed over and opened it. Inside was some gym clothes and different supplements. I rummaged around a little more and found Bruce’s wallet, keys and something else that caused me to drop the bag. There at the bottom was a small case that looked like it would contain eye glasses. With shaking hands, I opened it and let out a gasp. Inside, were six syringes filled with a bright blue liquid. Could this be the gear Bruce was using to get so huge? My thoughts were interrupted by Mitch depending the stairs. I pocketed the container of syringes, the wallet and keys and walked over to Mitch who was standing over Bruce’s limp body. “I found these.” Mitch said holding up a syringe of milky white liquid. “They’re muscle relaxers. Maybe they will keep him asleep until we can figure out a plan.” “Fuck Mitch! That’s not a solution!” I screamed. “I KNOW Andy but what other choice do we have?” Mitch said and jammed the needle into Bruce’s beachball sized shoulder. He injected the solution and stood back. “Mitch; I need to get out of here.” Mitch spun around and looked at me “Andy! I know you are freaking out, I am too, but you can’t just run away. I won’t let him hurt you ever again.” He said and moved to embarrass my trembling body. I stepped away. “I’m not running away Mitch! I know he can’t hurt us, I just don’t know what the FUCK we’re supposed to do! My mind is racing! I just need to get some fresh air.” I said and quickly grabbed my sweater off the floor and put it on. “Ok-Ok. Go get some air Andy but listen; don’t worry. Everything is going to be ok.” Mitch said with a smile. I know he was trying to assure me but at that moment, all I wanted to do was get out of here. I was outside before I realized I still had Bruce’s wallet, keys and above all else; his gear in my pocket. I raced to my car, opened Bruce’s wallet and started to drive in the direction of his house. The further I got away from the gym, the calmer I felt. My stomach was still aching thinking of Mitch being there alone with Bruce but at that moment, I just needed to get as far way as possible. Ten minutes later I was staring at the front door of Bruces condo. With a shaking hand, I unlocked the front door and stepped inside. His place was huge and far nicer than I had expected. I had assumed Bruce’s obsession to gain more and more size meant that he would not be concerned with trivial things like cleaning and decorating. I wandered around his living room, there were stacks of bodybuilding magazines on the coffee table and a number of empty protein shakes. I moved to the kitchen and discovered multiple cabinets filled with various supplements. His fridge was filled with cooked meat and other typical bodybuilding food. Down the hallway I discovered a office. His computer was turned off. Next to it was a stack of writing journals. I flipped though the top one to discover Bruce’s workout logs. I flipped to back and found his last workout listed. It had been chest day. My jaw dropped as I read the phenomenal numbers he had recorded. His eighth and final rep was a staggering 675lbs! He was doing flys with 110lb dumbbells and five sets of cable flys using 120lbs for 50 reps. My mouth went dry as I placed the journal back on the desk. It was at that moment I noticed the small college fridge in the far corner. I opened it to discover it filled with full vials of the same blue liquid I had in my pocket. I walked further down the hall and found his bedroom. While the bed was un-made, it was as organized as the rest of the house. I opened the top drawer of the night stand and let out an audible scream. There on top of the TV remote was a huge dildo. I opened the second drawer to find something just as surprising, a magazine containing naked images of some very large, muscular men. “Bruce is gay!” I yelled. My mind could barely handle this new information. Never would I have imagined that sadistic asshole was also gay. I knew he was turned on by muscle, that much was clear; but I just assumed it was his own mass that got him aroused. I flipped thought he magazine and marvelled hat how huge some of the models were. Even though they all paled in comparison to Bruce and Mitch, they are far bigger than typical porn stars. Some looked bigger and more conditioned than the current Mr. Olympia. It was at that moment my fear finally dissipated. My mind had been racing ever since I drove away from the gym but suddenly I was calm and focused once again. Bruce was gay. Of course; it made perfect sense. He was clearly closeted and ashamed and took that isolation out of those around him. Maybe he focused his torture on those that he found attractive. Maybe his response to feeling aroused by other men caused him to lash out and attack us. I knew this didn’t excuse his horrible behaviour but it certainly started to make sense. I walked into the adjoining ensuite bathroom. I splashed water on my face and looked at myself in the mirror. I took a moment to admire the increased mass I’ve added recently. I stepped on Bruce’s scale and smiled when it displayed 267lbs. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the container. I opened it and looked at the blue liquid swirling inside. I knew it was reckless but I saw no other choice. If this was what was making Bruce so huge, it was my only option to surpass him. With one steady motion, I jammed the syringe into my right thigh. My eyes went wide as I injected the liquid. Instantly an intense burning sensation started to move thought my entire body. I stumbled and had to sturdy myself on the sink to stop from collapsing. A minute later the burning subsided and I picked up one more syringe. I hesitated for a moment before jamming it into my left shoulder. Again, the pain was almost too much to bear. I let out a loud scream as I doubled over. I held tight to the sink and within another minute, the pain started to weaken. I stood and looked at my reflection in the mirror again. I knew it was not possible to have grown but I could swear I felt bigger. What was definitely apparent was the feeling of power coursing though my veins. “No wonder Bruce is always so confident! I felling like I could bench press a car!” Suddenly I was overcome by the sensation that I was going to pass out. I staggered out of the bathroom and managed to lay down on the bed. Seconds later, I was completely unconscious. --- Mitch could not take his eyes of the sleeping body of Bruce. He still had not idea what his plan was. He paced the gym floor for what seemed like hours until he heard a low growl coming from Bruce. Mitch approached the lifeless body and saw Bruce’s head start to rise. His eyes were closed but it was clear he was coming to. Mitch looked worried but was confident the chains would hold the monster in place. Slowly Bruce became more awake and aware of his surroundings. He opened his eyes and looked down at the heavy chains wrapped around his upper body. He tried to move but found that he was completely immobile. As panic set in, Bruce started to howl with rage. “What the FUCK HAVE YOU DONE?” He yelled. Mitch moved closer. Standing over Bruce and looking as imposing as possible he said “You need to be taught a lesson you roided out freak.” “I’ll teach you a lesson you motherfucker!” Bruce replied and tried again to get free from the chains. Mitch stepped closer again and landed a few powerful blows to Bruce’s face. The sounds of the impacts echoed throughout the gym. A trickle of blood started to drip from Bruce’s nose. “I bet you feel pretty fucking tough hitting a man who’s tied up.” Bruce said. “You weren’t tied up when I knocked you out the first time.” Mitch said. “I’m starving. I’m going to grab some food…don’t go anywhere” he said and laughed. As he ascended the stairs, he heard Bruce try again to get free from the chains no avail. Upstairs Mitch grabbed a plate of chicken and beef and started to eat. He mixed a protein shake and sat at the kitchen table. He took one bite of food when he heard a gut-wrenching scream that shook the building walls. He dropped his fork and ran down the stairs. Bruce was still surrounded by the thick metal chains but he had maneuvered himself so he his feet were now planted on the ground. He was still near the ground so he looked like he was at the bottom of a squat. His whole body shook and sweat was dripping from his forehead. Through gritted teeth he looked at Mitch and said “I can’t decide whether I should just break these chains or tear out this beam to get free. Part of me wants to rip the beam apart but that might cause the whole building to collapse. That might hurt me a little.” Mitch moved closer, looking for something to subdue Bruce. Sensing his plan, Bruce let out another primal grow and slowly started to rise. His more than 40” quads shook from effort. Garden-hose thick veins erupted across their surface. Is was a truly sicken sight to witness. Mitch froze, unable to focus on his task. Eventually Bruce was able to spread his legs a little farther apart, giving him better leverage. As he did this, he was able to rise faster until he was almost upright again. He was breathing very fast but showed no signs of stopping. With one final effort, the giant man stood straight up. His legs looks unreal. Each muscle fibre stood out in frightening contrast. Their size seemed to have tripled and their vascularity was truly grotesque. Mitch covered his mouth to suppress a gag. “FUCK. Feels like I just squatted a tractor trailer for an hour. Thanks for making me get a nasty pump old man.” Bruce said. Mitch snapped out of his trance and picked up a 50lb dumbbell and swung it at Bruce’s head. The impact was extremely hard but Mitch recoiled in horror as Bruce barely registered the blow. “I’m done pretending you have some power behind those puny muscles old man.” Bruce said and squared his massive shouldered. The heavy chains dug into his flesh, making him look even wider somehow. Then it happened; Bruce started to flex. His traps were the first to swell. They rose upwards and swelled outwards at the same time. Within seconds, they grazed Bruce’s ears. Next it was his forearms. With his arms pinned to his side by the chains, only about six inches of forearm flesh was exposed but what was started to writhe and twitch. Sausage thick veins visibly pumped blood into his extremities. Finally, Bruce flexed his chest and lats. Though fully contained within the confines of the chains, Mitch could see him widen. In a truly horrifying scene, the links of the chains started to stretch. “YEAH thats right. My muscles are bending FUCKING METAL!” Bruce screamed. Mitch franticly looked for a way to stop Bruce but it was too late. With one final roar that shook the glass windows, Bruce flexed harder than even he thought was possible. It wasn’t the metal clamps that held the chains that broke, it was the metal chain links them selves. In at least four separate spots, the metal failed and shattered. With a load crash, the remaining chains fell to floor. He stood panting and sweating until he caught his reflection in the nearby mirror. Even he was taken aback. Before him stood the more inhumanly massive specimen ever imagined. No; it wasn’t even imaginable, it was something straight out of science fiction. Wiped away was any sense of his formal humanity. He was looking at a sheer mountain of pulsing muscles and veins. He didn’t even have to move or flex to display his incredible definition and size. His fascination was short lived as he re-focused on Mitch. “Look old man; clearly I’ve proven to you that you can’t fucking take me on. I know that hurts your ego. Most people probably look at you and think you are indestructible; hell, you could step on stage and win the Mr. O. tomorrow if you wanted; assuming I’m not on-stage with you.” Mitch was once again overcome with rage and lunged at the hulking beast. With a flip of his wrist, Bruce grabbed Mitch’s meaty forearm and started to apply pressure. Mitch let out a howl. “What did I tell you? Did you not see what this muscle just did to those metal chains. Besides, the extreme pump I’m experiencing right now feels fucking incredible. I think you unleashed some extra level of the gear I’m on.” To prove his point, Bruce squeezed harder, causing Mitch to drop to one knee in pain. “So here’s what’s going to happen. I could leave right now and we both know there’s nothing stopping me but there’s no fun in that. I want to take full advantage of this opportunity. You and I are going to workout. If you don’t drop dead, I’ll walk out of here so you can try to catch up to my size. But if you so much as THINK about trying to knock me out again; I’ll rip your arms off your body.” Knowing he didn’t have a choice, Mitch slowly nodded his head. “Good choice. Where’s your little boy toy?” Bruce asked. “He went out for a bit.” “Too bad. Little guy would probably be cumming non-stop during this.” He said. “Looks like you are a pecs man. Let’s bench.” Bruce waddled towards the bench press and Mitch followed. He loaded the bar with 5 45lb plates per side. Without hesitation, he laid down on the bench and hoisted the heavy bar and started to preform perfect reps. “495lbs feels fucking light. Check out the mad pump in these pecs already.” Bruce taunted. At 15 reps, he racked the bar and sat up. His blood-filled pecs looked incredible. To emphasize their shear mass, he flexed them repeatedly. He stood up and motioned for Mitch to start his set. Mitch lifted the bar with ease and started to crank out reps. Bruce appeared behind the bench and leaned in. “Just in case you didn’t listen before” Bruce said and placed both hands on the bar. Instantly, Mitch was unable to move the weight. Applying a fraction of his strength, Bruce pressed the bar down until it sat on Mitch’s heaving pecs. “I could crack you in two right now old man.” Having made his point, Bruce let go of the bar, allowing Mitch to complete his last three reps. Mitch jumped off the bar and started to scream at Bruce “What the FUCK is your problem? Why are you such an asshole.” “Because I can BE.” Bruce yelled back “The bigger I get, the less I give a fuck about other people.” Mitch just shook his head as Bruce loaded two more plates onto each side of the bar. He noticed a look of concern in Mitch’s face and chuckled. “Too heavy for you?” “Fuck you. Add one more.” Mitch commanded. Bruce smiled and complied. There might have even been a look of admiration in his eyes… “765lb is a lot of weight. I’ve only lifted for a few reps before. Think you can handle that?” Mitch didn’t respond, instead he positioned himself under the weight. With a primal grunt, he lifted the weight off the rack. The weight fell fast but Mitch was able to keep it under control. Bruce positioned himself over Mitch to spot him if needed but to his surprise, Mitch didn’t need help. The older man stared at Bruce and continued to lift the massive weight. At four reps his arms were violently shaking. His chest was swelling with unheard of levels of muscle. Just as he thought he could not move the weight again he heard Bruce speak. “COME ON! PUSH IT!” Mitch screamed and managed one more rep before slamming the weight down and sitting up. “FUCK” was all Mitch heard from Bruce. Catching his reflection in the mirror caused Mitch to smile. His once titanic chest was bulging to a new level of huge. Mitch tried to flex but the pump was so intense, he could barely move. “My turn” Bruce said and nudged Mitch out the way. He grunted and started to lift the massive bar. With staggering speed, Bruce cranked out eight reps before starting to slow down. He managed three more reps before letting the bar crash. He leapt from the bench and flexed his pecs. “They have to be over 80 inched now!” he screamed. Not one to back down from a challenge, Mitch got under the bar again and started to move the huge weight. Bruce looked on in shock as the massive older man cranked out six easy reps. He managed to reach eight before racking the weight and sliding off the bench. He was panting heavily but didn’t waste any time. He rolled onto his stomach and started to do push-ups. After preforming 30 in quick succession he struggled to get to his feet. He looked at Bruce and started to pose. Bruce never felt intimidated by another man but Mitch’s swollen and pumped chest caused him to worry. The sight before him was straight out of his wildest fantasies; a body so huge it caused him to feel small. Mitch’s upper body no longer looked to be of this planet. His brutally pumped chest almost eclipsed his head. His mammoth shoulders quivered and swelled. His powerful lats where so inflated, they came into view from his back. Bruce could always control his attraction to other men in public but Mitch’s fully-flexed body was too much for him to handle. At that moment, there was only one thing Bruce wanted; Mitch. With a primal look in his eyes, Bruce advanced on the massive man. With surprising speed, Bruce pounced on Mitch. He wrapped his hulking arms around Mitch’s inflated chest and leaned in for a kiss. Mitch shoved Bruce hard and stepped back. “What the fuck are you doing?” Mitch yelled.

Should of been up for Christmas, but the holidays was crazy busy. Hopefully shouldn't be as long a wait till Part Six. Thanks for reading. Read Part One HERE Read Part Two HERE Read Part Three HERE Read Part Four HERE Liquid Manhood Chapter Five Sean normally enjoyed Christmas, but this year he nervously dreaded it. The second he stepped off the train at his hometown’s small country station his parents were amazed by his transformation. His father who was only 5’8 beamed with pride at his now 6’3 son. Sean’s mother joked about having to return some Christmas presents. The next day Sean saw her carrying a bag of already wrapped gifts out to her car, so she wasn't joking. Things got worse for Sean when his uncles, aunts, and cousins turned up. To start, Sean was as horny as ever and not being able to jerk off several times a day was really affecting him. He was washing his own sheets once every couple days just to hide the evidence and the smell. Those nighttime cum explosions were a terrible mess to clean up. He, at over 6ft and with a lean muscled body, didn't fit the Doherty family frame. Sean was a head and shoulders taller than most of them, and was probably the only one who could see his feet without sucking in his gut. The surprise and admiration at his body caused him to spend most of the winter break with a constant blush. A blush which at times could of had him losing consciousness with all the blood that rushed to his face. Like when a cousin walked into him in the night after he’d gotten up to use the bathroom. Sean was shirtless and his cousin almost screamed out in excitement at the ridges of his abs. Sean’s face went as crimson as his hair. Christmas Day revealed the new outfits his mother had chosen for him, and no doubt expected to see him wear. Two pairs of jeans and a sweater were actually something Sean wanted. A number of plain t-shirts, colourful button up shirts, and even some workout gear wasn't what he wanted or even expected. He’d spun a lie about working out to explain his new physique, so he should have expected workout gear. The other clothes weren't his normal style of dress. They were missing the puns, funny images or nerdy logos every other piece of clothing he owned had plastered over them. Though those pieces didn't fit him anymore. Sean told his parents he loved all his gifts anyway. He was very happy that they’d got him the games he asked for, but he didn't have the heart to tell them that in the days that followed he returned about half the clothes they’d brought for him. He kept the workout gear just in case. Sean even dropped to the floor and did some sit ups or push ups when his parents came knocking on his door. He wanted to avoid the awkward questions about his sudden change, questions which he himself didn't have answers for. ——————————————————————————————————————————— “My parents really like you,” Lance said to Zack as he stared into his eyes while they lay in bed together. Zack sat up slightly, pushing his meaty torso upwards with his thickly muscled arms. The two boys, now boyfriends, were spending Christmas together. This gave Zack a chance to see San Diego and Lance a chance to reveal he was gay to a very surprised family and friends. Though a number of them understood Lance’s attraction to Zack once the olive toned stud started wearing clothes more fitting of California. Right now Zack’s pecs and abs glistened with a light sheen of sweat above Lance, who bit his lip in appreciation. “Seriously… you’re gonna mention your parents while I’m balls deep in you?” Zack asked, laughing with a hint of annoyance in his voice. Lance whimpered slightly as Zack flexed his oversized cock, the thickening girth pushing against Lance’s tight hole. “Sorry,” Lance quickly replied, his eyes closed as pleasure rocketed through him. “Good, now shut up,” Zack ordered, returning to his fierce thrusting “This bed is already way too loud” Lance’s parents were downstairs, trying to ignore the sound of their darling boy being power fucked by his boyfriend, the sound of the bed’s wooden frame hitting the wall echoing through the house in time with each of Zack’s titanic thrusts. ——————————————————————————————————————————— A few days had passed since A.J. had arrived home and Barrett was hating every second of it. He could deal with the sympathy and concern from his family. He could deal with how his relationship with A.J. had moved from athletic manly rivalry and into one of just pity towards him. But Barrett couldn't deal with A.J. being his normal half naked over confident self all the time. A.J. was over 6’5 tall and stacked with well toned muscle. Unlike a lot of linebackers he was pure muscle, his six pack abs have been several stories high on a billboard in Times Square only last summer. With Barrett’s new found attraction to muscle he was struggling to control himself around A.J. He knew it was going to be hard the second A.J. arrived home, his big brother pulled off his coat to reveal a skin tight tank top. Barrett’s eyes followed his brothers pecs as they rose with each breath, the tank straining against them. Barrett then found his face pressed between them as A.J. pulled his sick little brother into a hug. There had been other incidents and they all could have been avoided if Barrett hadn't tried to be like his old self. He was forcing himself to be more confident, like the old Barrett, so he was finally leaving his room which just put him in line for running into A.J. The amount of times he’d be walking down a hallway, his eyes staring at the ground, and then he walk straight into A.J. ripped sweaty abs. A.J. never saw him coming, his big brother was always looking right over tiny Barrett’s head. Barrett was woken at 6am one morning by A.J. who just burst into his bedroom. Barrett sat bolt upright, his eyes level with the overstuffed Calvin Klein briefs that A.J. had gotten for free after a modelling shoot. “Hey bro, sorry about waking you” A.J. boomed rubbing sleep from his eyes, his bicep bulging just as much as his briefs “I’m heading out for a jog and I haven't packed anything with support” To show what he meant A.J. gave his bulge a little heft, it bounced and pushed the fat soft head of dick up against the fabric. “Ok” Barrett said simply, crossing his skinny legs under his covers Even though his erection was unnoticeable beneath the heavy sheets, he wasn't taking any chances. The smell of his room still set him off, but he thought what if now instead of imaging his old self when he inhaled his old musk he began picturing the underwear clad muscle giant in front of him. To make things worse as A.J. breathed his abs tightened and he bounced a pec impatiently. “Sooooo” he asked elongating the word This knocked Barrett’s attention from his big brothers brick sized stomach muscles and back up to his chiselled face. “So what” Barrett asked, trying not to focus his attention to his brothers jaw line A.J. sighed and dropped his meaty ass, which was barely covered by his briefs, onto the bed. The mattress sagged and Barrett rolled towards his brothers vast toned back. “You got a jock, or some compression shorts” A.J. questioned “You know, I could knock myself off running without support…. like you used to be able too” A.J. continued like he hadn't just rubbed salt on to Barrett’s still bloody wound. “I know you got rid of most of your old clothes, but are you sure you don’t have anything for me you could….. well it would be a hand me up, wouldn't it” A.J. chuckled at his own joke Barrett shook his head, but his eyes fell on his old jockstrap. It sat on his desk, next to his console controller. He’d been sniffing it only last night, thinking about the difference between his brothers and the housekeeper’s son Andre’s pecs. A.J. spotted where Barrett was looking. He pulled himself off Barrett’s bed and the floorboards creaked beneath his oversized feet. He quickly scooped up the jock and stretched it out in his hands. “It’s a bit small for me” A.J. boasted “But thanks bro” A.J. crammed his legendary equipment into the jockstrap and left the room for his jog. Barrett just signed, he slightly wanted to go watch his brother change, but he killed that thought quickly. He was going to return to sleep, but his phone buzzed as a new email arrived. It was from his college, their newsletter. Barrett wouldn't have ever read it before his change, but now he read every email he got, which wasn't many since his social life had collapsed. His eyes widened as he opened it. The email was fronted with a family crest, one he recognised from the few times he’d journeyed into the campus library. He’d only ever been there to pick up chicks, from his experience nerdy girls were always crazy in bed. It was the crest of the Haber family. Barrett was sure he’d heard that name a few times and not just from the library, he thought he heard his father mention it once or twice. The email’s title was interesting. “Lincoln University- From Salem to Campus” “A history of myth, legend and witchcraft” ——————————————————————————————————————————— Sean returned to campus sooner than he’d wanted too, he just couldn't deal with his family anymore. He’d always been close to them, but now that he was different they were clinging to him all the time. His father was adamant that Sean should try out for some sport, preferably football. Sean just couldn't handle all the attention. So he wasted money on a new train ticket, ignoring the one he had for next week and jumped on the train. His dingy dorm room was a welcome sight. He could have sworn the odd cactus’ flower even opened and oozed its strange sap like it was it happy to see him. Sean opened up his bag and eagerly set up his PlayStation, but as it turned on it started to update. The dorms horrible internet connection meant the update was going to take over three hours. Sean just sighed and started to unpack his clothes, he’d thrown out all the clothes he’d brought home and only had the new clothes he’d received for Christmas. He was currently wearing snug jeans and a chest hugging sweater. It was one of the only outfits he felt normal in, nothing like the naked feeling he had when he wore the skin tight workout gear he’d been gifted with. Sean smirked when he spotted the Captain America shirt. He’d forgotten he’d dumped it on his bed before he left. Though he thought it had been blue beforehand, now it was an odd shade of green. The blue and red shield on its front was stained green and the sky blue colouring had turned a lime colour. He sniffed the shirt gingerly, it reeked of his room. A nice familiar smell, a mix of the musky air and the slightly floral stench of the cactus sap. Maybe the colours had just run in the wash. Sean remembered a faded pair of green socks he’d tossed before Christmas, must be wear the green dye had come from. Above Sean a vein of elixir pulled itself back to the edge of the ceiling safely out of view of Sean. Sean draped the shirt over his desk chair and pulled off the warm sweater. He quickly checked himself out in his dorm rooms mirror. He couldn't help but smile at his abs, he even tried to bounce his chest, but there wasn't any movement, they just tightened. He lifted the shirt off his chair and gave it another sniff, his PS4 only on 4% download. His jaw was stained green as he pulled the shirt away from his hair. Red hairs had already started to sprout over his jaw. Sean quickly pulled the shirt over his head, it was a little tight. The shirt reached his waist, but clung to his chest and arms. He pulled at the collar, trying to loosen the high neckline. He kicked off his shoes and pulled his socks off, they were sweaty from the long train ride. Sean undid the buttons of his jeans while scratching at his jaw, he was surprised he needed to shave already. His jeans struggled to get past his thighs and then his calves, they’d been tight, but hadn't been so clingy. He pulled at his briefs, trying to get the fabric off his packed in balls. Sean sighed at the thought that he’d have to go out and buy a larger pair of jeans so soon after getting this pair. He really needed to get his head around how to wash clothes, he kept shrinking them or ruining the colour like his Captain America shirt. He checked his PS4, now it was up to 19%. Sean’s vision went fuzzy for a moment then returned with increases clarity, he blinked a few times in response to the weird change in vision. He couldn't see himself, but Sean’s eyes are brightened into deep emeralds. Sean rubbed his eyes, thinking he was just tired. He didn't noticed the light green staining fading away on his hand that he’d just scratched his chest with, nor did he notice that the hand was also slightly larger than the other. Sean almost fell over as his chest tightened, pain pulling his pec muscles and admirals inwards. He collapsed onto one knee, one hand gripping his bed and the other clutching his chest. The Captain America shirt was splitting done his back, his neck fighting against the skin tight collar. Sean pushed himself back to his feet, his legs throbbing as they magically thickened. The leg holes of his briefs strained against the muscles, and pushed against his ass as it rounded out into a boulder of muscle. Sean was knocked onto his back as the shirt burst apart. The thud of his growing mass echoed throughout his room and down the dormitory corridor. His pecs had exploded outwards in size, going from tight pecs into a shelf that you could balance a drink on. Small slithers of blue cotton fluttered in the air, the tattered remains of Captain America’s shield rested in the grooves of Sean’s brick like abs and the crevice between his slab like pecs. The green stain was gone, having been drained to fuel Sean’s growth. Sean’s mitt like hands grabbed at the carpet, his teeth gritted as pain rocketed through him. His bones creaking as they stretched longer and thicker. The remains of the shirt slipped beneath his widening back as his bowling ball shoulders popped the seams of his sleeves and finally destroyed the too small shirt. His biceps bloated by several inches, flexing even through Sean’s arms were held straight out. Hair grew down between his abs and joined up with the rich pubes that spread out from his now too small briefs. His bulge, which was already a hearty endowment looked obscene now. His growth was not focusing on that area, the imprint of his fattening balls rolled around in the overstuffed pouch. His briefs were tented upwards by an ever growing trunk of sexmeat. The pain that rocked Sean’s body died and he signed with relief, his voice husky and deep, as his briefs burst. His horse like equipment swung around splattering the surrounding area with thick pre cum. Sean took a few deep breaths, his pecs rising and falling, the light of his PS4 glittering off his sweaty chest hair. Then with fury in his eyes Sean started to jack his fat bull cock with his dinner plate hands, his grunts and groans roaring out into the dormitory and through his dorm rooms thin walls. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Chris returned to college with a reinforced wariness of the elixir. It wasn’t some simple muscle potion like he’d feared, the changes it caused appeared to not measure up to what was promised by his ancient spell book. But he wouldn't give up on it, he just needed a few more tests so he could work out the rules. Magic always had rules, ways in which it operated which could ruin everything if you didn't understand its nature. He already had a plan ready before his family’s private jet took off from the tarmac in Europe to take him back to America. Chris dosed three water bottles with the elixir, bottles which Chris had stolen from the college gym during workouts there last semester. They had the college logo on and would blend in with the untainted bottles the gym offered to refresh its users. He took the bottles to the college gym and mixed the dossed bottles in with gym’s normal water bottles. The gym was a lot quieter now thanks to the draining of the football team, so Chris was able to record who went in and out over the course of one day. This was grunt work that Melvin should of done, but the blond nerd wasn't even back yet, so Chris had to wait around an entire day. Chris recorded 17 different people enter and leave the college gym, half of them left with water bottles in their hands. Chris would find them over the next couple days. He had his fingers crossed that Yuri didn't get dossed, he didn't want that cocky Russian to end up huge. Though there were a few people he didn't really recognise, he had to do some snooping of the gym’s membership files to find out who they were, which while illegal was a perk of being the son of college’s largest donor. One scrawny black kid turned out be a 20 year old who was the football teams equipment manager, Thaddeus Stern, which was a name that didn't fit the guy at all. Chris thought the guy had gotten drained when he cleaned up the teams jockstraps when they’d first been dosed with the powder. A quick check of Thaddeus’ Facebook found that he had always been short and scrawny. Plus the jockstraps could only drain the first person to touch them or their relatives. When Chris returned to his dorm room after a long day spying his nose wrinkled at the musky smell wafting out from the room next door. A TV inside sounded out loudly, Chris vaguely remembered the guy who lived there, he was tallish, a slim build, red hair, he was kinda cute. He must of gotten back and forgot to clean up the mess he’d left last semester. Chris should have just knocked and mentioned it to the redhead, but the chance to use his family’s power was too good an opportunity to waste. So he wrote an email to the Dean’s office about the smell, he knew the Dean would get it sorted out within days. The red headed idiot had most likely left some filthy clothes out or some half eaten food had been left out to rot. Though Chris had a nagging feeling that he recognised the musky, overpowering smell. But before Chris could consider it more his phone buzzed and Melvin’s name appeared on the screen. He nearly jumped at it, eager to explain his ideas to his absent roommate. “Melvin” he called down the phone, he was already passing the room. “Where the hell have you been? I thought you were coming back days ago… but never mind that.” He took a breath and started to explain. “I dosed a few of water bottles at the athletic department’s gym, I have a list of who uses the gym, they would have access to the water bottles,” he breathed and then started again “So I can see how it affects them, because I have a theory, I think the elixir doesn’t do what we think it does, I tested it out over Christmas and the result was horrific…” He paused, Melvin was silent on the other end. He must be angry that Chris had broken the promise not to use the elixir. “I know, I broke my promise, sue me,” he continued. “But I think these water bottles will prove my idea. I think the elixir has rules on how it changes people. I just need some more test subjects to prove it.” Chris stopped and waited, a few seconds passed before Melvin replied. “Chris… we need to talk,” a voice that didn't sound like Melvin replied, it was deep, rumbling and very masculine.

It was strange to see the island as it had been described in all these stories, yet changed. Deserted. Skull Rock. Mermaid Lagoon. Crocodile Creek. All deserted. But I had known that when I ventured forth. I wasn’t here to meet the famed inhabitants of yore. I was here to find the treasure. Whatever it was. I remembered the old man’s words: slurred, insane – yet strangely convincing: “The treasure. No one knows what it can do, in that cave for so long, waiting to be found. By a curious, handsome lad like you.” And he leered at me, and though I was repelled I also felt flattered. I felt awkward and ungainly in my eighteen-year-old body: too frail, too… exposed to the violence of this world of wonder, as others liked to think of it. He had kept talking about the treasure: that he knew where it was, but no one knew what it was. It didn’t make any sense, and yet I felt something draw me towards the idea of it. A treasure, there on that island. So here I was now, in front of the cave the old man had described. The entrance was blocked, or so it seemed. But as I got closer, I saw the crack in the great rock, narrow but, alas, wide enough for my slender body. (Faintly, past insults echoed in my mind. Too weak. Too tender, too gentle for a boy.) It was dark inside the cave, except for a small glow in one corner. It was flickering, sickly. I inched closer, carefully, and yes, scared. And then, suddenly, a voice – tiny, ancient: “Do you believe in fairies?” Followed by a wicked cackle that turned into an ill-sounding fit of coughing. “Ah, I should know better… Too old to make fun of my human cousins. No hard feelings, eh?” I had knelt down next to the corner where the glow was coming from, and I saw a tiny, grey, wrinkly thing with what looked like wings, though one had a hole in it and the other hung limply from her side. I reached out to touch her and she shied away from me, but I made some soothing noise, and gently stroked her gray hair with one finger. “Are you in great pain, little one?” She hesitated, briefly, and when she spoke – more to herself than to me – there was both sadness and astonishment in her voice: “He wanted to fly, you see, and fly he did. All those children, all those deaths… They never had a place, you know, so I gave them… a place hidden away from the world. But they couldn’t live here for long, you see? It wasn’t a place…” Her voice trailed off, and I thought she had fallen asleep, so I started a little when she spoke again: “Go find your treasure. They will guide you.” She pointed her tiny little finger to my left, and I saw a tiny chest perched on a rock. I grabbed the chest, which was a lot heavier than I had expected. I was about to look for the key when I realized that it wasn’t locked. I opened it and ... I felt the tears running down my cheeks as I saw all the boys who had been lost through the centuries, unable to grow up in a world that didn’t want them – kept forever from becoming the wonderful, loving men they could have been. And then suddenly I felt their presence – felt their unlived futures swirl around me. Part of me was afraid; how could I live my life in the shadow of all their thwarted potential? But something in me was stronger than my fear, and as I stood back up I heard myself say: “Yes.” They were crowding in on me know, all of them, but I no longer felt threatened by the intensity of their longing. The world had never understood that they would have preferred to grow up, preferred to become fully-grown men, allowed to share their dreams with those around them. They were gone now, forever, but I would try to live, and to love, for them. I felt their yearning pour into my soul, and a strange pressure began to build up inside my chest. My shoulders broadened as the force of their unlived lives poured into my body. There was a curiously erotic sound as my traps began to rise higher, my neck to grow thicker. More and more energy flooded my body as all those dreams were finally liberated from their ancient prison, and I heard the top button of my coat pop open as my pecs bulged outward. I took a step back, feeling my quads swell more massive, feeling my lats spread wider and wider. I flexed my left arm, and the peak of my biceps was clearly visible through the sleeve of my coat, straining the fabric, growing, thickening. I wondered briefly whether this was too much – whether I had been mistaken in inviting them in. But as my cock grew bigger and harder in my increasingly tight pants, I realized that no fantasy could be too massive for these poor, lost souls who had never felt safe in their short, short lives. And so I gave in, let the power flow freely, feeling it force itself into every muscle in my body, making me grow, thicken, bulging bigger and bigger, quads swelling more massive and bursting through the seams of my pants, the peaks of my biceps tearing apart my sleeves as they rose higher. I could feel my abs growing more defined by the second, could feel pound after pound of muscle being pushed into my body as I kept swelling harder, stronger. My clothes were in tatters by now, but there was no way of stopping the growth. Muscles throbbing bigger, rubbing against each other as they grew, competing for space on my insanely massive and still swelling, thickening body. The cave started to feel small, too small to contain me, yet my shoulders kept on broadening, my calves, my pecs kept swelling thicker and bigger. I wondered briefly whether I’d be crushed to death, but then my body burst through the walls of the cave, almost too big to imagine, my massive cock fully and proudly erect, muscles bulging everywhere, the sunlight glowing on my skin, the air caressing my all-powerful body, far too strong to be kept hidden here in some Neverland, pushing past the boundaries of fantasy into the real world, stronger, harder, impossible to deny, beautiful to behold, finally able to live fully and freely, swelling, flexing, fucking and cumming, loving, growing, and … I woke up, a little confused at first. Then I wrapped my massive arm around my lover, careful not to wake him, kissed him on the neck and whispered: “You’re safe with me.” Breathed in his smell. And fell back asleep.

Hi Meatbox Thank you for this, you have no idea how long I had been waiting for something like this. Over my life I have always been the short fat kid, I have tried several things, most recently getting a gym membership, but it never works. So needless to say I tried it tonight! I didn't feel like I have that much to lose. I did the whole P thing n the door, but was not smart enough to make sure there were matches in my house. At about 10:50 I found one of my roommates secret stash of cigarettes which had some matches thank god. I attempted to make the pentagram, eventually going and finding something straight to use for the lines since I was shaking too badly to draw straight lines. I set everything up, and in the middle I set my access tag to the gym in the pentagram. Around myself i put a thick salt circle, and as it closed I heard a knock on my door. My heart had skipped a beat at the time. I took a deep breath and shouted, "Come in, I'm ready" I wish I could report to you guys what the entity looked like, but I can't. I kept my eyes from the stairs as I heard deep thuds come down my stairs to where I was. From above my head, and in an almost inaudibly low voice I heard him. "Why have you summoned me?" I was simultaneously frozen and ecstatic. "I want to be an alpha, my entire life I have been small and weak and I am sick of it. Can you change me please sir?" I held my breath. I didn't know if I had done it right. The thudding moved over to the pentagram and I heard the click of the tab being picked up. He came towards me. I was scared and closed my eyes completely so as not to accidentally look at him. I heard the tab hit the ground inside the circle. "I believe you and will help you, but you will need that." With that he told me to step outside the salt circle. I was scared. I have seen rituals like this before and the only rule is pretty much to NEVER leave or break the salt circle. I then thought though that me being to scared to leave the circle after he said he would help me might be rude, and then I would be in trouble for sure. I picked up the tab on the ground to give me time to think... and then I stepped out. I walked up to the figure and stopped as soon as I saw his feet. I quickly closed my eyes, but here's what I can tell you. He was barefoot, and while I didn't see his whole foot, I could tell from the size of his toes that this man, or whatever he was, was clearly gigantic. He told me to turn around and I did. He laid what i could only assume was his hand on my shoulder, effectively engulfing it and part of my back with it, and I felt warmth. As quickly as the feeling was there, it was then gone. I had a moment of confusion before things started to feel bad. I fell to the ground in extreme pain coming from every part of my body. Behind me a guttural, almost demonic laugh sounded, followed by a "Have fun" I was writhing on the ground all around, my eyes going from shut tight and and wide open as i squirmed to the extreme pain and even cracking and gurgling sounds happening inside me. I noticed that the man had gone. A bone in my leg snapped and I screamed. The pain of it was my being, until the warm feeling from before came to that part of my leg and soothed it, I looked down and saw the bone move back into place and extend. The muscles around it were spasming and moving under my skin, my muscles were tearing and reforming before my eyes, and then a cascade of other bones snapped, and muscles tore and moved all over my body. I crawled over to the nearby toolbox that I kept in the basement. I grabbed a hammer out of the box with a freshly healed hand that then snapped again. I switched and used the other hand and brought the hammer beside me. This was too much. I couldn't take it. I was going to use this hammer to kill myself. I gripped it with my hand and aimed up the shot. I noticed then that I had been so distracted with my legs i hadn't noticed my arms had been growing too. My hands took up the whole handle of the hammer that I could before almost put both hands on without them touching, my forearms were so veiny, which I had never been. Up from there my biceps bulged out, and triceps moved in the other direction as they moved still and grew before my eyes. This was what I wanted. I decided then that despite the torturous pain I could handle this. I threw the hammer away from me with all the might I could muster despite being drained from the transformation. My arm snapped and lengthened as I watched the hammer smash through the wall in an amazing display of crumbling drywall. I crashed to the ground due to the new injuries and screamed at the pain, but once the scream gave way to a mad laugh, and heavy breathing. My clothes were beginning to add to the pain as they dug into my constantly expanding frame but I managed to get my shirt off. My pants were so tight I ended up ripping them off (I was strong enough to rip them off!) and stripped from my underwear (the socks were slipping off on their own as my feet lengthened). Below my underwear stood a telephone pole of a penis, harder than I had ever had, and I hadn't even noticed being aroused. I grabbed it with a hand, beginning to jack off, switching hands if my arm became unusable. The pleasure of my orgasm overcame the pain, which the magic took as it's cue to simultaneously break almost every bone in my body, and surge every muscle higher. The pain of that should have killed me outright, but I was busy in my bliss as cum shot to the ceiling and mostly stuck. I ended up putting out some of the candles with my jiz. Then as the orgasm faded the warmth I had felt at first from the man was all over my body as I watched my body seemingly put itself back together one final time, and give one final heart thump of muscle. I then noticed hair quickly push out of every pore I had always wished, but never had any hair grow out of. I laid down, finally at peace and sighed, which caused a start. My voice had been high, but now sounded like my balls had re-dropped 3 or more times. I looked over at the 2 candles that were still lit and blew them out. Then without missing a beat I dropped my head and fell asleep. When I woke up I checked myself in the mirror. I used to stand a measly 5' 7" which was nothing next to my freshly measured 6' 7". I had only met one person who was that tall, and they would definitely be gaping at me now, if not for my height, then definitely for my size. I was a beast. I didn't have a tape measurer (I used a dinky school ruler to measure my height) so I can't give specifics, but to put it simply, I could compete in bodybuilding competitions, and I might even win. While checking out my outrageously wide back (I went past both ends of the mirror) I also noticed that what looked like a tattoo of a hand had formed on my back. I then jacked off again at this new sight. I would love to see anyone try to pick on me now. And now I am here, telling you about it. That is my account. I can't wait to go out into the world looking like this. (It occurs to me I don't have any clothes that fit, I may have to call in some favours with my friends). I wish any future people who try this out the best of luck. Stick with it, and it will be well worth it!

I came twice.

A N L A C O M P L E X ' S T A L E Attila strolled through the large hallways of the world-famous Galleria dell’ Accademia, barely acknowledging the history-making artwork surrounding him. But neither did the hundreds of lucky visitors that were crowding the place: they all had eyes on the greatest objet d’art than mankind would ever produce, him. Standing at 15 feet high, more than 3,000 pounds of raw muscles hulking out of his clothes, with a handsome face to top the whole package, his presence was unmistakable—from the rumbling of the walls with every one of his mighty steps to the potent musky smell of his sweat. People barely reached up above his knees, with for eye-level sight his packed grey-jogging. It had been sewed too large three days ago, but he was now filling it more than nicely, the obscene outline of his impossible cock quite visible along his right quad. From behind, his boulder ass popped out of the fabric of the jogging, tensing it to its limit. The 21-year-old Adonis looked downright godly, the massive Greek statues almost anemic next to him. The crowd worshipped him in silence, none daring to interact directly with him. A sizable mass was now following every one of his movements, his visit much more historic than any of the paintings that hugged the wall. Attila stood captivated by his own stature, engrossed by how puny his meaningless worshippers were and how he dwarfed both in size and beauty any piece inhabiting this “museum”. He was getting high on the feeling of power that inhabited him, a feeling he had grown accustomed to—he could feel his mighty cock getting engorged with blood at the thought of his dominance, and he groped his massive package in appreciation. Even to him, it felt incredibly big, almost wrongly so… Flashes went off there and here. Not only were all eyes on him, but all cameras too. There wouldn’t be a single photo taken of the art today; all were of his marvelous body. The guards had tried to enforce the “no-flash” rule, but it had proven to be impossible. Pictures of him were flooding social media and were starting to take over the news. His presence and his growth over the last few weeks had been surprisingly quite discreet—this was surely his first public appearance since the press conference a week ago his parents had held for him broking the 10-foot barrier. Little did he know, but there was a staggering waiting line at the entry of the museum for a Monday morning: after seeing his pictures on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, or on the local news, thousands had gathered and were trying to get in; if just only to get a glimpse of him. His presence was noticeable in many ways. As he was wandering through the diminished galleries, his manly smell was filling the whole place, overpowering every little shrimp in the building. It was the fragrance of a true male, a true god amongst men… It was even more so pungent for the people closer to him, as they found themselves at equal distance from his sweaty black snickers and from his murky groin. It was oddly endearing, stripping the tiny onlookers of the little virility they still had after laying eyes upon his all-powerful body. It was almost mesmerizing: they found themselves desiring to serve him, to feel diminished next to their new god—a feeling so powerful that no one could escape it… He finally reached the piece he had been seeking since he had arrived: he had not made this trip simply out of generosity to help the museum with its diminishing ticket sale, but rather to show the world something, to send a clear message through the demonstration he intended to make in a few minutes. At the end of the hallway was the unmistakable masterpiece of Michelangelo, David. The massive marble statue was a sight to behold, its model the ultimate embodiment of manliness. Well. The penultimate to be more precise, since the staggering growth spurt of Attila. While the definition on the David was wonderful, especially on his knotty slightly oversized hands and feet, it was nothing compared to the sheer mass of Attila. And as he got closer, this was becoming quite evident to anyone standing in the room… The crowd had gathered en masse around the statue, seeing the subject of all visits today approaching it with renowned interest. As he entered the large room hosting the masterpiece, he couldn’t help but feel a slight appreciation for Michelangelo’s work. It was the best a mere mortal’s imagination could produce… It had been mankind’s best shot at creating an idol for manliness: the best our limited minds could produce. But Attila had known no bound in his need for power; as many had thought he had reached the limits of his body, his next growth spurt had proven them wrong every single time. There was no bound to his ability to get bigger, and he knew it entirely. People were not ready to accept it yet: he was only getting started. Soon, the statue would be of no more interest to people than was a speckle on the tiles of the floor was. David’s torso was a thing of beauty; there was denying that. But it was completely overshadowed by the insane volume of Attila. His shoulders were twice as large, his back a sea of sturdy muscles that made the statue look featureless. His biceps made the ones of David look like little twigs that he could snap in half with his fingers. The most prominent feature of Michelangelo’s work, his hands, paled in comparison to the giant’s ones. They looked powerful, almost frightening knowing the power they could unleash; how he could crush to paste in his fist a living man’s head with ease. The comparison, of course, was far from stopping here. But it was more than enough to introduce the show he was about to put on. Indeed, David, once the universal standard for virility and manliness, looked like nothing but a feeble immature little boy next to Attila. As he got within feet of the symbol, there were gasps in the ever-growing audience. Thanks to its pedestal, the statue was standing a head above the young giant; without it, it would have barely reached his pecs. This offered the statue a few more minutes of somewhat decency, as its flimsy marble was otherwise completely dwarfed by Attila’s lively muscles. He stood here for a second, sizing it up, somewhat hesitant about how to better show his unquestionable superiority. He could, of course, just wreck it to dust here and there—but this would be so trivial… Such a petty act would fail to convey the full message he wanted to send today. There was a hectic feeling in the room. Hundreds of smartphones were popping everywhere, the crowd filming and streaming on the web what they knew was going to redefine the course of history. Everybody had the almost dire apprehension that something memorable was coming. Yet, nobody could quite tell why they had that feeling or what was going to happen. Attila was in full control of the situation, the crowd mesmerized by every twitch from his body. There was no doubt news casters all around the country were starting to pick up on his appearance at the museum, commenting every subtle detail they could find. His choice of appearing alongside Michelangelo’s David had been understood by all as conveying a powerful and deep message. But he was gonna do more than just stand by it: he was gonna give them a show; the show of their lives. “And you came from all over the world to see … that?!” his deep baritone boomed, as he pointed at David in disgust. At the first word coming out of his mouth, all murmurs had stopped, the whole Galleria now dead silent, his voice echoing infinitely inside the building. He walked ceremoniously around the statue, his deliberately slow powerful steps making the whole room rumble. He gobbed, sending a massive loogie on David’s ridiculous dick—bringing the crowd’s attention to how minuscule it looked, especially compared to the python looming in his jogging. Sizing down the statue, he felt a now too common feeling of power inhabiting him, inhabiting every fiber of his dense muscle. The crowd below looked so … so meaningless to him. They were weak, irrelevant and pathetic. They were a bunch of deplorables. He could all wipe them out on a whim if it pleased him… And the worse? They would certainly like it—they would enjoy every minute of him crushing them to death under his sweaty soles. He groped his dick in appreciation, realizing how massive it had grown from the excitement. There was an obscene, downright pornographic, unmissable tent in his jogging but he cared very little; all the more so, he liked it. It would only remind the so-called men below of how puny they were next to his mightiness. He stopped in front of the David, removing his sweat-drenched black tank-top. There were clear exclamations from the crowd as he reveled his tight eight-pack—or was it a ten-pack? —, defined beyond the imaginable. There wasn’t a single pound of fat on his stomach, each of his cobblestone-like abs popping a few inches out of his stomach. His proportions were quite simply beyond perfection. Contrary to many bodybuilders, his stomach hadn’t become bloated from steroid overuse; it was simply packed with dense muscles. His waist was barely half the size of his boulder like shoulders, giving a clear V-shape to his knotty back. As he removed the shirt further, his sea of abs became alive with his further movements, his oblique a reminder to all men watching that they had such muscles hiding under their disgusting layers of fat. The spectacle was enthralling. Women wetted themselves on the spot from such a godly sight, while many men surprised themselves with the most massive boner they had ever felt. “You look all so puny.” He commented, sending shivers down the spines of everyone watching, as he seized the crowd down, now standing shirtless. Bare-chested, his bulging pecs were now fully visible. They looked like two massive balloons, each larger than a small fridge, their striations only highlighting the density and the tightness of his unbelievable chest. The gap in between them looked big enough for a grown man’s leg to fit in, a further reminder of the astonishing size difference between himself and every other man that had ever walked this Earth. Furthermore, there was no possible comparison between his torso and David’s. They looked as if they came from different species, Attila’s mass and symmetry unmatched by even the most ambitious carvings of Michelangelo. The upper-body envisioned he had envisioned looked fragile, if not flabby, as if he had lacked any ambition in building the statue. Hundreds of years of reference in terms of manhood had been thrown away in a second, and no one would question today’s match winner. But the demonstration was far from finished. In fact, it hadn’t even started. Attila threw his sweat-drenched black tank top to the other end of the room, where it landed on some members of the audience. What was a tight piece of clothing to him was more than enough to cover a large queen-size bed, and the few trapped under his top had difficulties getting out, overwhelmed by its pungent smell. For the first time in their worthless lives, they experienced true bliss. Under this sweaty blanket, they found themselves stripped of any quality they might have had, stripped of their identities, reduced to their bare bones. Under his domination, they could experience their true self and find a common and unique purpose: to serve him, to their deaths if necessary. They were in raptures over his magnificent body, his infinite power… After seeking one for so long, they had found a true God. “Let me show you what a real man is made of.” And without further ado, he delighted the crowd to a posing show that would enter the history books. He started with a breathtaking front biceps pose. His upper arms looked like two dense balls of steel, his biceps peaking higher than the shoulders of a fully grown man were wide. There was more power and muscles in one of his arm than in anyone in the room. His shape was overshadowing the David, its shoulders and head barely visible above his, for the rest of its body was concealed by the impossibly wide wall of muscles that was his torso. His quads were popping out through the fabric of the jogging, hugging it incredibly tight. They were defined beyond reason, each stride of raw muscle packing more power and mass than a bodybuilder whole quads. This pushed his growing bulge forward, an obscene tent the unmistakable sign he was getting off the size difference between him and the dazed onlookers. His dick barely more than at full mast, it looked to be more than 23 inches long… And God, how thick that rod was! Feeling a good pump coming, he flexed harder, his cheese-grate abs popping even more, a spider of veins now appearing along his entire arms. He moved to a front lat spread, to showcase just how wide his shoulders were. There were gasps—barely audible under his groans—in the audience, as his back overshadowed the David even more. As he breathed in, his chest heaved bigger and bigger, like one would inflate a balloon. Each muscle fiber in his pecs were rock hard, packing unfathomable power. As he held the pose, the pump was getting more than noticeable, his already tremendous biceps having gained a few more inches of circumference. But perhaps, the most astonishing increase in size from blood-flow came from his cock… It was now getting close to being fully erect, and there was actually quite a noticeable tearing sound as it got fuller and fuller, the jogging slowly giving away under the combined strain of his diamond quads and his python cock. His bulge was getting so large that the people right below could barely see his stomach and abs; while his balloon-like chest concealed the view of his handsome smile for many others. Noticing that his muscles were so large they were impairing his vision, he couldn’t help but get even more stoked. The sight of his strapping body would be more than enough to send him over the edge… But he wanted for the audience to see more; to leave truly reduced to being nothing more but his foot slaves. Feeling close to what he wanted to achieve, his muscles bulging bigger by the second simply from the pump, he moved on to the next pose. Without warning, he stepped over with his right leg and planted his left leg behind, reaching a heart-stopping side chest pose. There were gasps of terrors as his 33 inches long Nike moved close to crush someone alive; for the few that hadn’t sprung to their feet in time, the slight brush had broken three of their ribs with ease. Yet, the crowd was transfixed by the show and did not even do more than slightly shudder. None dared to move, afraid of missing the upcoming spectacle: they were entirely at his mercy, engrossed by his cockiness. His body was now beyond any pump any bodybuilder could get; the veins on his biceps were dazzling, complimenting their singular round shape. His forearms were an intricate net of veins, his skin astonishingly tight on the strides of his muscles. From the blood filling them, his muscles had bulged noticeably bigger than they were when he had started flexing. The David behind looked featureless, paling in comparison to the liveliness, unfathomable mass and insane definition of Attila’s body. His move from one pose to another had sent a whiff of his smell filling the room, beads of sweats covering his body from the insane exertion. He was giving this show all he had, and it was showing; his muscles were tensed harder than ever, with an intensity many only thought a workout could lead to. The virile smell was only complimenting the visual show, enthralling everyone and putting the crowd in a trance like state. More tearing sounds from his over stretched jogging brought him back to reality for a second, away from his dreams of control and power. The super-pump had made his quads grow even further, pushing his pants far beyond their limits. His ass was the size of big boulder rock, with a perfect round shape—contrary to far too many bodybuilders, he hadn’t sacrificed aesthetics and symmetry for size: he had both! Even though his quads were of a thickness few could fully grasp, the bulge of his massive 30 inches erect endowment still managed to peak above them, the top of it drenched in smelly precum. His previously too large custom sweat pants were now looking more like tight Lycra ones; he had completely overgrown in a matter of days—without any growth spurt, yet! He threw back his head in ecstasy, moaning at the thought of his incredible growth and mighty body. This rattled the entire building, his deep growl putting the audience’s ears in pain; and yet, it was music to their ears. He had finally reached climax; not sexual climax, but one that was far more powerful and alarming for his surroundings… He could feel every single fiber in his body aching for more power, for more size; his gaze was blurred with vision of him growing bigger and bigger, dominating over entire cities; he felt his entire body push against its skin, his body pumped beyond belief, ready to explode with additional size. He was high on power, on strength—he was high on his need to grow bigger and stronger… And grow he was going to, without any brakes or restraints. “You wanted to see a real man?” he boomed, slowly turning his back to the crowd. There was a deluge of approbation that echoed throughout the entire museum—the place had been turned into more of a stadium by now, judging from the crowd behavior. The audience was hectic, entirely at his mercy and service. He laughed at the sound of their measly squeaks—it was music to his ears. Though, he had to take it slowly. His body was on the verge of erupting into the mother of all growth spurts, and he wanted to enjoy every second of it… He gently came to face the David, his massive back and boulder ass offered to the crowd. “You ready?” he enquired with a smirk on his face, jubilating from the thousands of gazes on his rock hard body, every muscle in his body more tensed than ever. The crowd started chanting his name rhythmically, with new found fervor. He started bringing up his knotty arms, slowly, carefully spreading his lats… He felt on the edge, power radiating through him with ever-increasing intensity, spasms simulating his tight muscles; he had never experienced something like that before: he felt more Godly than ever, capable of lifting and breaking mountains would he desire it. As he spread his lats wider and wider, a sea of muscles coming to life on his back, he could feel every single one of his muscles progressively locking, as if he was progressively engaging a massive piece of machinery through its different gears… He could feel every single muscle fiber in his body coming to life, the heat and the strain on every square inch of his tanned skin, his dick pulsating at full mast, ready to plow through anything. As his arms reached their position for a back double biceps pose, he felt the utmost climax coming, his entire body shivering at the thought of it. On the very edge of a historic moment, he had the choice: the dive into the haze of powerful radiating heat that obscured his feelings with thought of domination and power or to forever stand at its doorstep, basking in its vigorous blaze. In this very moment, he had the ability to change the course of history itself; to redefine what mankind was. For once and for all, he felt alive, in full control. As a smirk appeared on his face, he started to tense everyone of his muscles at once, slowly focusing on every fiber, every stride, every group of muscles, bringing his whole body back to life at once, into full gear… He delighted in the few seconds that passed as his veins began popping up all over his shredded body, time suspended for a moment… He could dive in, or stay here, in the bask of the radiating heat, filled with infinite pleasure. At last, he made his choice: “enough of these games” he thought and he let go of everything, diving in fully into the blaze of power, strength and dominance that awaited him. The era of Attila the giant had begun. His movement of spreading his lats, of expanding his back for his pose never stopped: as he flexed his powerful biceps with all of his might, his back kept on expanding, larger and larger, creeping outward at the rate of a few inches per second. His entire body began expanding, growing out in all directions. With every passing second, more mass was getting crammed into the ever-expanding peaks of his biceps, his pecs bulging further and further, his legs becoming longer and longer… “He is growing!” squeaked someone in the audience, as a common gasp of terror filled the building. But soon, everybody fell silent, transfixed by his impossible show; the ominous soundtrack to his unstoppable growth became the ramble of the ground as he was packing hundreds of pounds of muscles after hundreds, his jogging and Nike stretching to failure. This was the coming of a new God… He kept on holding the pose for a few more seconds, his head soon coming to eye-level with the puny David; he broke the 17-foot barrier as if it was nothing, now looking down on the statue. Its entirety was hidden by his ever-broadening back, while the pedestal was mostly concealed by his diamond quads, each wider than the statue itself. He took a step forward, the measly glass barrier below simply exploding on contact with his impossibly powerful legs. There were yelling of fear, but nobody moved an inch, even the ones right under him for whom the available space was diminishing with every second. His growth seemed to know no end, as his eyes were now gazing above the not-so-huge-anymore statue. The David looked like a flabby child next to him, with no feature to redeem itself. As if the comparison couldn’t get anymore diminishing for the masterpiece, his jogging started to get teared apart, the fabric exploding in between his two butt cheeks from the tension created by his ever-growing ass. He tensed up his muscles further, his quads exploding through the fabric with renowned strength and reducing it to pieces in seconds. As his jogging felt down on the puny onlookers below, it revealed his tight white boxers, which wouldn’t last for much longer either. The seams on their side had already exploded from his growing legs, leaving it to look like more of a teared apart jockstrap than anything else. His balls hung low between his legs, quite visible from behind, while his dick was tearing through the front of his boxers, leaving precum on the ground and on the pedestal of the statue. As his shoulders were starting to rise above the head of the David, he dropped the pose, relaxing back his muscles, his body covered with sweat. “Doesn’t like that big anymore, huh?” His voice took everyone aback; it was much deeper and powerful than before. The statue looked more than feeble now in front of him, as he was now oversizing it in every regard. If his biceps kept on expanding, they would soon be bigger than the torso of the David! But for now, his growth had tempered off—though it was hard for him to resist the envy for more size… He flicked his cock, annihilating the remaining of his boxers. The pungent pieces, imbibed with precum, fell on a poor guy below who quite simply collapsed down from the overwhelming smell. Attila barely noticed—he was more occupied relinquishing his massive body and comparing it with the piece of art he had put out of fashion. Each of his pec was actually larger than was the entire upper torso of the statue! He had grown seriously huge with his previous growth spurt, weighing now in excess of 7,500 pounds, more than two big sedans put together! And the strength he was packing was downright scary: he could blow right through the statue if he wanted to, and he wouldn’t even leave with as much as a bruise! The audience could now admire freely his uncovered legs, each as big as a tree trunk, each an incredible powerhouse of raw strength. His quads were now longer and far larger than a human being, but made of impenetrable thick muscle; they could easily crush to dust a car, which was telling regarding what it could do to a human… People now stood well below his knees; they faced calves that were bigger than them, covered with a slight fur of blonde hair. They lead to his massive feet, each almost three feet in length! His Nike hadn’t given in yet; but they were visibly distorted, with the laces starting to pop out; there wasn’t much doubt they would soon simply explode, liberating his incredible feet. He wondered about what to do next for a second; destroy the statue? Nah. He had an ever better idea in mind… He turned around, revealing his 45 inches cock to the public. There were gasps in the audience, for the rod was quite obscene: veins were snaking along it, and it was leaking precum at a steady rate, spilling it all over the floor. People actually took a step back, terrified by the monster; but they found themselves oddly attracted to it, in dire need of getting a closer look. They wanted to feel it, to stroke it, to lick it… It was an object of desire, of absolute worship: the ultimate embodiment of manliness. Even to his proportions, it was oddly huge. “You like that thing?” he enquired with a smirk, knowing very well the answer. He dreamt of plowing it right through someone, but there was no one alive that could handle such a massive endowment; he would just split them up in the second he would thrust his monster in them. And while the idea certainly fascinated him, even excited him, he had no time for these games. He started stroking his cock with one of his hands, unable to resist the temptation. The feeling of fullness it had sent shivers down his spine: it felt so massive, so powerful… His giant hand could barely cover a quarter of it and he couldn’t even close it around his shaft—it was that thick! As he rubbed it, more precum started loudly falling out, forming a growing puddle on the ground. The scent of it was thick and was starting to fill the room quickly; it acted as an incredible aphrodisiac on all the people here. Some of them couldn’t even stop it and started jacking it right here, on the spot, while the less resilient just climaxed on the sight of his unfathomable endowment. He started moaning loudly, getting off once again on his perfect body. As he realized his dick was half the size of a grown man, he started losing himself in his dreams of power and dominance again… He could see himself towering over the entire city, crushing buses under his relentless sole, his dick by then far larger than a train wagon. And as he would flex his hill-sized biceps, he would grow more and more, endlessly, his head above the cloud, the entire city under his smelly feet… The whole world would belong to him, mankind reduced to serve him. He would reign as a merciless God, ready to crush anyone who dared not comply with his superior demands. He felt overwhelmed by the sight, now on the verge of cumming… But he was suddenly brought back to reality. What brought him back to reality made him explode in deafening laughter seconds later, the walls rumbling hard. He looked at David’s dick—or more exactly speckle—the thing barely bigger than his thumb’s nail. He gazed back at his overwhelming endowment, exploding with renowned laughter. People had to cover their ears in pain, but he kept laughing and laughing, unable to fathom the ridiculousness of the statue microscopic endowment. “And you dare call that a man!” he was able to muffle through his laughter, his abs heaving rhythmically with each burst of laughter. The idol had been truly ridiculoused, from head to toe… There was nothing more to redeem from it. It was now time for him to show off his new path and introduce his era—to become a true Godly idol. “Let me show you…” he started to flex his abdominal muscles, the wall they were forming getting tighter and tighter by the second… He raised his massive arms behind his head, his triceps exploding with size as he did so, his massive arms almost brushing his cheeks… He gazed at the minuscule crowd below with a smirk, and flexed hard, harder than ever before. His body wasted no time in reacting to his demand for additional size; it was time to resume the growth spurt, and quickly. And this time, there would be no more pit stops on the way to becoming a true giant. His growth kicked into high gear almost immediately, his body expanding again rapidly. But this time, everyone was keen to notice that something was different: he was growing much more quickly than ever before, his muscles expanding at a worrying rate. Suddenly, the top of the statue barely came to his nipple, the puny shrimps below finding themselves having to expand the circle around him so as not to get crushed. His shoes exploded in the following seconds, unable to contain his ever-growing feet. A wave of their pungent sweaty smell hit everyone in the room, for they had been kept trapped for hours into the tight shoes. His toes were now expanding quickly outward, and he wiggled them in appreciation, only worsening the virility-stripping smell. Each of them was nearly as big as a head, their shape surprisingly enticing for the people around them. Indeed, many felt the need to go lick clean his dirty soles, but this would be a death wish seeing how fast they were growing. His ominous manly smell was far too endearing and mesmerizing for anyone in the room to resist. It was a mixture of sweat and precum mixed with a powerful whiff from his soles, and while this would usually be disgusting, coming from him, it was the embodiment of manliness and virility. His worshippers relinquished in its salty taste, feeling voodooed by its nuances. They felt compelled, oddly drawn by his stinky sole and his deep, drenched in sweat, hairy pits. With every breath they were taking, they were further stripped of their identity and consequently reduced to being nothing but his toys; they finally felt at ease in their position of inferiority, having nothing to prove, and being finally able to embrace their worthlessness. His growth seemed impossible to stop. He was enthralled by the high he was getting from seeing his surroundings shrinking, as the puny humans around him were becoming more and more like rodents. He couldn’t care less about them anymore; if they were to die under his feet, so was it, for he was now their almighty and all-powerful God. He brought one of his arms up and flexed his massive ball of a biceps… “AM I EVER SO HUGE!” He boomed in appreciation of his size, flexing even harder his arm. The effects of that gratuitous flex were instantaneous, kicking his growth in an even higher gear. He seemed to defy all laws of physics, his stature expanding larger and larger, the ground rumbling from the weigh he was packing every second. They watched powerlessly as his calves heaved higher and higher, each larger than the statue. The tallest in the crowd were barely coming to half their length by now! His torso had been affected by a similar increase in size; fully grown men could now sit on his massive traps, and his back looked as if you could build a bungalow onto it. His flexed biceps was peaking higher and higher by the second—it was now larger than the entire Michelangelo’s statue and still increasing in size steadily. Its round shape was of indescribable perfection, its growing strides and striations creating mesmerizing patterns. He was watching it grow with passion, enthralled to flex harder with every passing second, fueling his growth even further. Each row of abs was now passing one after another the top of the David, each abs the size of a household fridge, only much sturdier and fuller. He was truly becoming a giant… Soon enough, he had more than doubled his original size: he was standing at 40 feet tall, close to the arches leading to the surrounding hallways, the top of the statue barely coming up to his waist. He had blown the 55,000 pounds mark, bigger than five massive pickup trucks. And with every second, he was only getting bigger, with no plan to stop. He readjusted his stance, sending a few people to the ground with his massive leg. To him, it barely felt like brushing against a twig. To them, it felt like a wall had hit them at full speed—and they suffered from heavy internal bleeding and many fractures. As he slammed his foot into the ground, the entire building rumbled, plaster falling from the ceiling and precious paintings falling to the ground. He was becoming a true giant, one that could grow endlessly at will… He smiled at the thought of his newly found destructive abilities—and he had barely tried! His feet, much like his dick, were now bigger than a fully grown adult! He could certainly crush entire cars under his feet, without doing as much as exerting any pressure—heck, he could certainly flatten a tank if he wanted! His destructive power knew no bound and was increasing by the very second, with no one able to do anything to stop him! The reality that a new order for things had been set today escaped to no one in the room; the extent to which this growth spurt was redefining history hit everyone, be they in the Galleria or watching him on TV, at home. They were now gazing at him fearfully, afraid of what was to come next. Unable to resist the temptation anymore, he started masturbating his massive rod with one of his powerful arms. It answered by growing even more erect, the firehose sized veins increasing in number all over it. Many of the people standing in the room were getting covered with the young Adonis precum; he was simply too big to keep sharing this room without them getting somewhat dirty. As he stroked his massive member, he flexed his massive chest and reduced his abs to a heart-stopping vacuum, furthering his growth even more. He felt overcome with delight as his growth rate increased even further. With every breath he was taking, his upper torso heaved bigger and bigger, each pecs large enough to park a car on them. The cleavage in between them was now big enough for a whole human being to fit in, and he could surely crush them to paste if he was to flex them as someone stood there. There was no sign of slowing down; if anything, his growth spurt was accelerating. His head passed the arches separating the room from the three hallways leading into it. He looked up and saw the glass dome above, standing at 60 feet high—a barrier he would soon break. He couldn’t even see most of the room’s floor under his massive pecs! His dick was now looming above the David, and each of his stroke only made him bigger and bigger. He felt as if he could continue all day long, being far from having exhausted this growth spurt, untapped potential still available to him. Though, relaxing his abs, he decided he wanted to end this quickly; he was tired of this room that basically posed no challenge to him anymore. He wanted to get free, to get in the city and to roam freely on his new empire. He brought his two arms back up and moved into a final double biceps pose. His two fists were getting dangerously close to the glass ceiling and a movement of panic caused people to start hustling out of the room as they understood a shower of glass shards awaited them. Flexing his two biceps harder than ever, he threw his head back in ecstasy, his booming laugher erupting and rattling the building. His growth reached its apex speed; growing at almost a foot per second, his frame expanded further and further, his feet pushing against the trapped people below. As he wiggled his toe in pleasure, he could feel people getting snatched under them, condemned to getting crushed to death under his ever-growing sole. Many who had to suffer this fate considered it an honor they could have never hoped for; they would serve at his feet, licking his salty skin until their very last breath. His fists, each big enough to hold an entire human or to take away the statue as one would a small water battle, slammed into the ceiling; it shattered instantly, the shards bouncing off his impenetrable skin, not even making a dent in his massive body. There wasn’t a thing known to man that could hurt him now. Finally, the sun shined on his head, and the view of the Galleria and Florence started to clear. Reaching 65 feet, his shoulders exploding out of the building, people barely ankle high to him, he looked around to see that most of the buildings were smaller than him; he was now weighing more than 177 tons—twice an Abraham tank with weight to spare—and his strength was unfathomable. His demonstration had been more than successful: he was starting to feel satisfied with his new size, his torso large enough to build a family house upon, his biceps peaking higher than a human was tall and his traps just as tall. He looked at himself with contempt, delighted by every square inch of his body. Besides, he was starting to struggle with having his quads fit in the building… His growth started to tamper, just as it had come. A few courageous mind dared to reenter the room, where a mess of shard and plaster awaited them. The room had turned dark, for Attila massive body was shading it from the sun. The David was still standing in the middle of the room intact, if dusty and humiliated, surrounded by two massive calves which it barely reached three quarters of. His dick was actually longer and far larger than the statue itself, the ultimate testament of his insane domination over his surroundings. The way it hung from his shredded body seemed impossible, defying the laws of physics. They could barely see Attila’s head from here, as it was concealed by his massive muscles. He didn’t deign to take a look at the bugs below; their lives had little to no meaning to him—and he had come to peace with this idea. Afar, he could hear the police sirens and the buzzing of the arriving helicopters. His little stunt had steadily gained viewership over the last few minutes, so much that it was now displayed worldwide… “THIS BE A LESSON FOR YOU ALL,” his voice echoed through the entire neighborhood, rattling the windows and making deaf those right below. “MY POWER IS ENDLESS; MY STRENGTH KNOWS NO BOUND; AND MY NEED FOR SIZE IS INSATIABLE” the millions watching felt uneasy, parted between terror and admiration of the youthful giant. “FROM NOW ON,” he marked a pause for dramatic effect, “THIS IS MY KINGDOM AND YOU ARE MY SLAVES!” he boomed so strongly that windows broke all around the Galleria, in a strange chorus of annihilation and carnage. “LET THIS BE A SHOW OF WHAT IS TO COME…” he finally commented. Without a warning he pushed as hard as he could with his massive quads, jumping high into the air. Under the impulsion, the concrete of the ground below had quite simply imploded, unable to resist the staggering strength his legs were packing, the ground shaking from his jump. He folded his legs, his feet actually coming as high as he stood tall before, blowing to pieces more of the domed ceiling; he had just sent his 108-foot, 525 tons body high up in the sky, thanks to his insanely powerful quads. The feat seemed impossible, and yet, here he was, high in the sky. He seemed to hang in the air for long seconds, as the reality of what was to come stroke those below… “What goes up,” many started to think in the audience, “must comes down.” And if the going up part had caused some serious damage…

NAKED Part Ten Sam said, “No.” “No?” I asked. “No,” he repeated. “You do not want to go to Freddy’s Toad.” “But it’s supposed to be a lot of fun.” “Whatever the opposite of ‘a lot of fun’ is,” he said, “Freddy’s Toad is that.” “Cyclotron?” I asked, referring to the leather bar I had also planned on visiting. “Sure,” he said, “if you want to get beaten up by a bunch of long-haired tattooed homophobes stuck somewhere in the 50’s who think a glance is a come-on.” Glancing over, I looked at Lance's magnificent body, packed with muscle and seven feet high, and I had a hard time imagining that dude getting beaten up by anyone, let alone a group of refugees from the 60's with a leather fetish. My beautiful boyfriend's voice interrupted my thoughts. “Why are you two talking when we could be fucking?” Lance could always focus us on what was really important. Sam, when he wasn’t sitting behind his lonely motel counter reading or writing or, one supposes, fantasizing about being back in our room with us having naked sports time with me and my huge, handsome boyfriend, was having naked sports time with me and my huge, handsome boyfriend. He fit in well - after I took the time to explain that, yes, sometimes Lance grows bigger and more muscular and more beautiful and, yes, when that happens sometimes when I pull my dick out of my boyfriend’s perfectly fuckable ass I discover that it’s grown bigger, too, and yes, it’s not your imagination I can cum something like gallons of cream from my fat balls and then turn around and do it again. He asked the same question that I always asked, and Lance gave him the same explanation he always gave me: “I’m not doing anything, you are.” Sam tried to explain my effect on him when I tried explaining my effect on Lance. "I can feel you coming," he said. "Well of course you can feel me cumming! I'm usually cumming in your ass." He clicked his tongue and said, "No...I mean...when you're near me I can feel you. Like...like you're made of sex or something. You know that feeling you get when you see someone who really cranks your 'nads? Some amazing-looking dude and your cock tingles and your balls buzz and you feel this, like, heat come over you all at once." I nodded, because of course I did. "You have that effect, but I don't even need to see you. It's like you're broadcasting sex on some powerful, silent wavelength and I knew when you're around because...I can feel you." He looked down at my giant length of thick cock and licked his lips. "And fuck you feel good." So far, these…unusual but incredibly agreeable effects did not seem to involve Sam’s body in any observable fashion, unless the fact that his ass seemed able to accommodate my length and girth with equal facility to my boyfriend’s, but he attributed that to, as he put it, “lots of practice.” My head would then fill with images of him practicing with a dildo the size of Montana (mine was currently only Massachusetts-sized or something slightly more practical, if one considered the size of Montana) and I would feel my cock growing eager and hungry to be shoved back inside his very cooperative fuck chute. We were at a pause in our daily labors and Lance had now left us alone and was attempting to use the shower (“attempting” is an apt phrase, because he was so large now that he barely fit himself inside the stall, and we could hear booms and bangs on the walls as he maneuvered his bulk around to clean every part of his massive musculature) while we discussed leaving these four walls and the broken beds behind for a few hours. “Where would you suggest, then?” “Motherfucker.” I sat up and tried looking offended. “I beg your pardon?” He just laughed and rolled his eyes. “It’s an underground club. Moves around a lot, because of its…unsavory nature.” “I’d never have guessed that from the name,” I offered. He rolled his eyes again. We were both naked. My dick, which had lately enjoyed so much attention offered by my two companions, was (as usual) firm and tingling. I always seemed to be on the edge of exploding, and I enjoyed the feeling immensely. My cock was now like some finely-tuned instrument designed to fuck and cum, delivering these hard, constant throbs of orgasmic sex to my entire body when I wasn't shoving it inside someone else’s butt, and according to both Lance and Sam nothing and nobody else felt as good to them as me when I was fucking them. “It’s like having heaven plugged directly into my head,” Sam put it, rather poetically. Lance was a bit more direct, and said that my cock delivering its load in his ass was “the greatest fucking feeling in the whole fucking world.” Did I worry what would happen with this constantly-throbbing mega-meat when we got back to college and I had to try dealing with ownership of the biggest and most easily aroused prick in the world? Sort of. But I chose not to worry about that and just enjoy what it could do, which was offer me endless and mind-blowing orgasms and apparently drive the object of its attention bat-shit crazy with sexual pleasure. I mean, what’s wrong with that? I could feel myself throb and swell with eager anticipation as Sam explained the details of this club he intended to show us. “Anything goes,” he said. “Anything?” My eyebrow rose in doubt. There’s a lot of anything in anything goes. “Anything. Everything! You can do whatever you want to, with whomever you want to, assuming of course that you and he both want to.” My dick throbbed hard. “Anything.” He nodded vigorously. “I’ve done some absolutely filthy things there. With some absolutely gorgeous men. It’s like if you took all your most pornographic fantasies and rolled them all up into a big fat veiny super-cock and then coated the cock in lube and stuck it in your butt.” “I thought you were a writer.” His eyes flickered at my crotch. “I take inspiration where I find it.” I looked down at my fat, butt-hungry prick and saw his point. As my boyfriend continued to swell, so did I - just in that one area. It was huge, it was fat, and it was incredibly sensitive. Frankly if someone attractive just breathed on me now I would probably start pumping cream at his face. “So what you’re saying is that we’d fit in perfectly.” “What I’m saying is that if you and Lance walked into Motherfucker, I think the entire planet would probably feel the group orgasm.” Motherfucker was, for its current incarnation, housed in an abandoned warehouse set somewhat outside the beach town’s environs. This meant that Lance got to be his own naked parade for several blocks (I suggested maybe we take the truck but Lance insisted he wanted to “get some sun”) while the head of my prick dangled near my knee and poked out of my shorts, its entire length getting constantly rubbed by the material. I was leaking pre like a snail trail along the sidewalk, and Sam swore he could “smell my fuck scent” like perfume on the wind. Lance was…well, to say that Lance was huge would be the ultimate understatement. We had been more less constantly in a state of sexual congress over the past several days, he and I and Sam, and though I had not managed to shove a giant dose of growth cream inside him, I think he was just constantly growing bigger and stronger on an hourly basis. Just in more subtle ways. Or maybe it was just that I was more used to seeing his body in a horizontal position and now that he was vertical again, and I was walking next to him, his overall bulk and height and muscular development was overwhelming to me. I could…feel him as he walked, as if he was a kind of planet made of muscle with his own gravitational pull, only his gravity was made of sexual attraction and masculine power, and its pull was absolute. Naked, as usual, he moved with an athletic grace that belied his size and immensity. Even after showering, I swear I could smell his masculine muskiness with the same strength that Sam said he could smell mine. It was like a fog of pure male fuck, a scent that made my heart race and my fat cock throb along its entire length. I wanted to stick my nose into his hairy butt crack and lap it all up like some sexual honey. Muscle stuck out from his frame in giant balls and cables and wedges. His definition was insane, as was his aesthetic beauty. Each muscle, even though he had not been training them to harmonious size and balance at a gym, was perfect. Watching him move, I could see each muscle swell and stretch and flex beneath his skin. I could practically see the individual muscle fibers that collecting into fat cables that bulged and twisted with even his slightest movement. Who knows how strong he had become? When he had broken world record lifts in the college gym, he was probably a hundred pounds lighter than he was now. I couldn’t even begin to estimate his strength. His enormous chest looked capable of bench pressing a fucking train, and his arms were thick enough to bend steel beams a foot thick. The sidewalk practically cracked with each stride of his monumental body, and the cock that swung between his two mind-blowing thighs was as gorgeous and perfect and huge as the rest of him. No wonder I had a near-constant hard-on when I was around him! The dude was living, breathing, throbbing, fuck-scented, naked sex on two enormously powerful legs. Lance, as usual, treated everything that was happening to him as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He walked in naked glory down the sidewalk, even occasionally waving at the gawkers who simply could not believe what they were seeing. He’d raise an arm swollen with fat balls and cables of raw muscle and smile that dick-hardening smile of his and greet some dude as if this sort of thing happens every day. Because, sure, when don’t you see a seven-foot-high, three-foot-wide naked dude coated with a beautiful forest of dark fur and swollen with muscle walking along the sidewalk with his massive length of cock wagging like a pendulum? Lance was now head-and-shoulders taller than me, and I was slightly taller than Sam. Sam looked the most normal of us, because he was. Lance was a naked muscle-bound bear-god, I had a cock that could choke, well, anybody with its plum-sized head dangling below the leg of my shorts, and Sam just looked like Sam, all lanky limbs and tight butt and toothy smile. The sun was setting when we reached the location. It was quiet and looked deserted, and Sam said, “We’re early. Things don’t really get cranking until midnight.” “Well,” said Lance, with a dangerous gleam in his sea-green eyes, “let’s get this party started.” We walked up to what we assumed was the entrance and Sam knocked on the door. It opened slightly and Sam asked, “What’s up, Motherfucker?” “We ain’t ready yet,” the shadows replied. Sam stepped back to allow the sight of Lance’s naked perfection to grace the guard’s eyeline. “You sure about that?” he asked. “Hi!” said Lance, moving his hand down to his fat shank of sex, grabbing himself by his thick shaft and pointing his huge cock head towards the door. “Wanna fuck?” That line always seems to work for him. Weird, huh? Needless to say, Motherfucker opened early that Thursday evening. Stepping inside, every eye turned towards us as we made our way inside the cavernous space. It may have been because there was sunlight from outside spilling into the darkness, or it may have been because Lance’s bulk acted like an eclipse and made that sudden brightness turn just as suddenly dark. Whatever the reason (and I have to suspect that at least some of the reason was that a seven-foot-tall naked bodybuilder with a 10-inch shank of wrist-thick sex meat had entered) we were quite suddenly the center of attention. Luckily, that’s exactly where Lance was most comfortable being. My eyes were still adjusting to the darkness when I heard Lance’s deep, powerful baritone say, “Hi,” brightly. Looking over, his dick was already inflating, throbbing and swelling and rising, and I could feel that weird and distinctly sexual heat pouring off his huge butt-naked body. It was making my own monster start to roar, and I was getting harder and bigger so quickly that I was starting to feel the pain of being caged up inside my shorts. I was struggling to get myself free, unzipping and trying to pull my foot-long and growing prick into the open when he asked, “Who wants to fuck?” Apparently, the answer was ‘everybody.’ Lance is a huge dude, but he was nearly bowled over by the sudden onslaught of young dudes literally running at him. I was being grabbed and sucked and kissed and poked and manhandled and I started pumping jizz all over the fucking place like an uncapped hose. I don't even remember disrobing but I got naked pretty fast. I kind of lost track of the other two for a while, to be honest. When you’re the focus of that much intent lust and you find your dick being so fervently and constantly cared for, with dozens of mouths and butts and hands all over the thing as you’re practically cumming constantly, I dare you to be able to focus on what’s happening to someone else, let alone form a cogent question like “who is fucking my boyfriend right now?” I knew Lance could handle himself, of course, and frankly I can’t think of a single thing someone else could do to him that he wouldn’t find the sexual angle in. The dude was a fucking brick house with a steel rod for a cock and muscles powerful enough to literally shove a ton of iron off his chest, along a libido so strong that he can literally have sex for hours at a time - if not for days - and still be ready for more, so it kind of boggles my mind to try to think of something some other dude or dudes could do to him or with him that he didn’t want to have happen. When he asks you if you wanna fuck, you better believe he’s ready to do just that. Me, I could handle myself, too, but I gotta admit that when my dick starts fountaining its unending load, my brain kind of goes south and all I’m feeling or thinking about is how great it all feels. You can fucking rake your teeth up every inch of my cock and it’s just gonna make me cum even harder. And there were dudes kissing my mouth and twisting my nips and licking my ass and sucking the exploding plum of my prick and all I could do was try to keep breathing as I was taken along for another deeply orgasmic ride. I guess that my...whatever power that Sam mentioned, my sex-throbs or whatever, probably contributed to this sudden sexual explosion that engulfed the three of us. I couldn't say for sure, because I guess I was the one making it happen. Sam, I hoped, was somewhere in that mix. The dude had a talented ass that could take whatever Lance and I had thrown at him, and lord knows the dude liked to lap at a butt like a starving man facing his first meal in months. As night fell, the place started filling up with new dudes and I became something like a feast for them, as the old guard fell by the wayside and new lips and asses and hands took over. How many dudes did I fill with cum? How many asses did I fuck? How many mouths did I kiss and how many dicks did I suck? I can’t even estimate. Dozens, for sure. Somewhere in there, I could feel…that feeling. The one that told me, with increasing clarity of purpose, that I was building up one hell of a bodybuilding blast for Lance’s magic muscles and all I needed to do was plug myself in and watch him grow. It felt as if all this sex, all this fucking and sucking, all this kissing and cumming, were only opening up the throttle on my engine instead of using up all the gas. As if my body now hungered for sex, devoured the sensation of my unending orgasms like fuel for the fire that I would eventually unleash inside Lance’s perfect ass and watch and feel his body swelling with power and sex. Something had changed, or maybe I was just finally aware of what was happening with me and my magic balls and my monster dick. Fucking Lance was always amazing, but I rarely managed to push him into bigger territory all on my own. I had to have this, the energy of sex, or the unbroken sensation of horniness, or something. After that morning in the gym with me stoking the fires as I watched his strength on display. After that night in the bar being serviced by an endless supply of randy old dudes wanting nothing more than to get off, or to get me off. And now this evening, too. Was there a connection I had missed? A reason for what was happening? I realized I was not growing more tired and spent as the night of a thousand orgies progressed - I was getting more powerful. I was…absorbing all this masculine sexual energy, pulling it inside me like a sponge and building up a reserve of powerful muscle juice. Even as my dick was unleashing torrents of hot cream, my balls were storing up whatever it was that I needed to help Lance get bigger, and with every minute of time spent with this parade of sexual energy focused on my body, I was charging my batteries for a huge discharge of the fuel that fed Lance’s continuing development. Finally, after hours of endless sex, I knew I could hold back no longer. I knew that I was going to explode if I tried to soak any more masculine power inside me, where it grew hot and hard and thick and pushed into my balls, turning into a thick hot cream filled with masculine energy, the ultimate gift of power for my huge, perfect lover. I was so charged up it hurt, like a throbbing pain and an overwhelming fire and a feeling of weight and tugging at my cock and balls. “Gotta….” Mouth on my cock, sucking my load. Cock in my ass, pumping me with cum. Lips on my mouth, tongue pushing inside, balls on fire, prick exploding. “Gotta fucking….” Hands grabbing me, pulling me, embracing me. Lips at my ear, whiskers on my cheek. Soft deep voice in my head. “Are you ready, baby?” “Gotta cum….” “Are you ready to give it all to me?” “Gotta…” “Are you ready to watch me grow?” I opened my eyes. Lance kissed me with utter passion, pressing his mighty body against mine, every muscle coated in sweat, the smell of sex surrounding us. “Are you ready, baby?” “Gotta fucking cum…” “Fuck me, baby.” “Gotta fucking….” “Fuck me hard. Harder than you ever fucked me before.” “Gotta….” “Make me grow.” I could feel his heat, his need, his power. He slapped his great, huge frame onto his back and opened his legs wide, showing me that familiar pink pucker that was so happy to welcome me inside. He held his ankles in his paws and spread himself open to me, his musk like a wave of heat that swept over me, washing my skin in his sexual power. His tight hole was wet with spit and cum and lube, amply prepared for the fat length of cock I was going to feed it. His legs were lined with thick wedges of muscle and his cock, a hot shank of thick sex, reached up his body and drooled warm honey into the deep crevasse between his massive pectoral globes. My balls ached with their load. I’d been coming constantly for hours, probably, but saving up this just for him. My magic muscle-making cum, super-powered and swollen with strength. “Gotta fucking cum,” I whispered. I pushed the head of my monster at his hole. He groaned and opened for my hugeness, using the massive control he had over every super-powered muscle packed onto his giant frame. A kiss of wet heat like his hungry mouth and tongue encased my rock-hard prick and I shoved myself inside. I exploded. White hot lava was erupting up my cock and flooding him with power. I started slowly fucking his ass, feeling him grip me like a vice and start to suck every drop I had for him from my balls. I leaned over him and pushed my lips against his and we kissed. We were coated in sweat and slippery, his heavy forest of dark fur glistening like silk. His long, talented tongue shoved inside my mouth and his hands were on my head, holding my mouth against his and I started cumming harder, still, my shout of absolute bliss stifled by our kiss. I could feel him swelling, feel his chest inflate and press against me, feel his cock stretching longer, growing thicker, feel the sexual heat from his naked body envelope and caress me. I came even harder. A flood of hot cum squeezed from my over-burdened balls, every drop screaming with muscle and sex and beauty, flooding his guts and making him grow. “Make me grow.” Yes. This is all I wanted, now. Make him grow. I looked at his face, looked into his eyes, watching him growing more handsome, more beautiful, more perfect as I shoved my hot load inside him and made him grow. His mouth was open and he was gasping in air. His green gaze was lost in some mutual orgasmic perfection and he sank into that sensation of muscular development, his strength swelling in time with his body. He was in total bliss, accepting my gift and growing more powerful with every heartbeat. He was swelling with muscle under me, his ass tightening around my steel-clad cock as I grew longer inside him, thicker and harder like a perfect cannon shooting my cum inside his swelling muscles. I could feel that sensation of perfect eruption as I delivered my copious load and my whole thick prick was throbbing with intense sexual power. His eyes opened and he smiled at me. “I can feel it,” he said. “Give it all to me. I want it all.” I leaned back, looking down at him, watching his body swelling with power, and pushed myself in to the hilt. I exploded, gasping and shouting, lost to pure bliss and orgasmic ecstasy, crying out with rapture as I gave Lance all that I had to give him and watched his muscles swell bigger. And bigger. And bigger. I was lost in some kind of perfect sexual haze, it was like heroin and it was shooting directly into my brain. I came and came, like I’d never come again, shooting a thick, hot, potent stream inside Lance as he swelled and stretched and grew. I looked at him and he looked at me. What did I even look like, my monster shoved all the way inside him as I exploded cum like a hydrant? I felt that I was unaware of anything but him and me, this connection, and me shoving an endless stream of cum inside him as my balls blazed and my cock swelled. I was lost inside that endless orgasmic perfection and saw his mouth open and smiling as his pectoral masses rose and split and his eight-pack deepened and his arms swelled up like balloons. Stars began to sparkle in my darkening vision. A tingling sensation was creeping up my arms from my fingers, a sort of numbness like warmth creeping over my skin. Everything. Take everything. Take it all. I felt a hand on the back of my neck, being pulled forward, the warmth of his body growing deeper, the smell of his sexy musk enveloping my senses, lips against mine, arms surrounding me, his hard body pressed against mine as it swelled bigger and bigger. “Thank you,” he said. Blackness.

NAKED Part Eight ”We need a bigger bed.” I wanted to make a grand entrance into the motel office, swinging open the door with aplomb wearing only my boxers, being all righteous and gay marriage and shit, but the door was already open and the dude behind that glass partition saw me coming across the parking lot before I could get all dramatic. “You have the standard queen,” he said. “Yeah….well, you’ve seen my boyfriend. Does he look like the standard queen to you?” I saw the corner of his mouth curl up and the corners of his eyes wrinkle. “No,” he answered. I was all in a state and wanted to make a scene, but he wasn’t making it easy. I had planned on walking over here stark naked to prove a point, but I still couldn’t bring myself to mimic Lance’s unfettered nudity. Turns out that wearing something to cover up my junk was a hard habit to break. Even if I had some of the most impressive junk east of the Mississippi. Oh, fuck that, let's throw in west of the Mississippi as well. “I can put you in a double room,” he offered, as the other side of his mouth joined the smile. “Don’t tell me, it has….” “Two standard queens. And, no, your boyfriend did not appear to be standard by any measure.” I didn’t noticed his accent before. Slightly Southern, but he was either trying to hide it or trying to rid himself of it. “Ain’t…haven’t seen you fellas out and about today.” “We had a kind of a…long night. Lance is worn out.” It wasn't unusual for him to need some heavy hours of deep sleep after I'd pumped him full of muscle. And he was pretty extremely pumped this morning. “I wouldn’t think there was much that could wear that boy out. Congratulations?” Was he flirting with me? My gaydar is terrible and he hadn’t come off as particularly gay, whatever that means. But he was situated behind that glass and the last time we met he was kind of dumbstruck. But now I could swear he was checking out my bod and my package. “Why’d you call the cops on us?” I asked, still determined to be angry about something. “Didn’t,” he answered. “Manager did. I mean, I had to tell him that there’s a naked dude in Number 12. This ain’t much of a job, but it’s steady and it’s quiet.” “Oh. Heh. Sorry, I thought you….” “I don’t give a damn if you’re naked or you’re painted blue or you have three legs.” He glanced down at my third leg for a second. “I mean….” “I think I know what you mean.” We looked at each other for a few heartbeats, and I realized my dick was starting to show its own signs of interest in our man here. He was whip thin, wearing an Oxford shirt too big for his frame and black glasses on his narrow face. He had a prominent nose, and I don’t think he had dragged a comb through his hair in, like, ever. Strawberry blond and sticking out every which way. His eyes behind those glasses were blue and…that was all I could see of him. But damn if my cock wasn’t starting to pulse and tingle. “I…guess we’ll take the standard double.” He nodded once and climbed off his stool to fetch another room key. Then he went to the back of the small room he was in and disappeared for a second. I heard someone coming in behind me, half-expecting it to be Lance (making my cock surge with expectation) when I heard him say, “I gotta make sure it’s made-up okay. Towels and stuff.” I turned around and his polite smile faded into shock because my dick was starting its amazing journey from noticeably large to insanely humongous, tenting the front of my boxers and trying to poke its way through the fly. I covered myself out of habit and he swallowed dryly. “I uh….” I blushed. I blushed! I hadn’t blushed in fucking ever! But I cleared my throat and decided the best course of action was to pretend my cock wasn’t just now deciding that it needed to surge into action and show itself off for a stranger. “This way,” he said, turning and heading across the lot. I walked behind him, and his comment about a third leg was becoming too comically real. It didn’t help matters that his butt was distractingly well-packed into his jeans. “What do you do in there all day?” I asked, hoping the conversation would distract me and my prick. “Huh?” he said, turning his head slightly. He had very full lips. They looked very soft. My cock grew another inch. “You said you liked a quiet job, so….” “Oh. I…write.” “Write?” He nodded. Oh, hell, don’t make him cute and smart at the same time! My boxers were running out of room and I looked ridiculous, now, with this giant thing sticking straight out of my groin and my shorts hugging my ass like a second skin. My fucking dick was so big it was pulling the waistband away from my body, and it wasn’t even done growing, yet. We got to the door of Room 2, and he pushed the key into the lock with some difficulty. “It gets sticky,” he said. I knew the feeling. He managed the lock and pushed the door open and walked inside. I heard him say, “Well, fuck,” quietly, which I assume meant that the room wasn’t ready and that he hadn’t meant me to hear him. “Look, sorry, I’ll make sure….” He had stopped talking and I think I knew why. My dick just didn’t want to be cooped up any longer and the dripping head had worked its way through the fly on my boxers. Now several inches of my hot, hard meat was thrust fully into view and I was growing bigger, longer, and thicker with every beat of my heart. My dick was slowly rising, throbbing with visible bounces, and the mouth was drooling a thick string of honey. I sort of smirked or frowned or something and shrugged. “Mind of its own,” I said helplessly. “Jesus,” he said, looking at the monster I owned. I don’t think I had mentioned that I had grown even bigger last night when Lance and I had that filthy fuck session in the alleyway, did I? Well, I did. “Uh…” I said. He simply could not take his eyes off of it as it continued to develop towards its ultimate size. His mouth - with those soft pillowy lips - was slightly open and he seemed mesmerized or in shock or something. I mean, yeah, I owned what was probably the largest prick in the country, but the least he could do was help me distract him from it as it swelled, and the veins wrapped it in a network of hot blood, and the head bloomed like a flower, weeping a stream of warm honey that began to coat its long, long, long neck with sex-scented lube. “Uh…” I said again. I think my thing was so huge now that it drained the blood from my brain and made it hard to think about anything but the constant, hard, heavy, demanding pulses of pure masculine sex throbbing through every inch of its massive, hungry meat. “Can I…?” His eyes flickered to meet my gaze as I stood in the doorway with a 14-inch high, wrist-thick monster cock visibly pounding in time to my heartbeat. I could literally bend my head down, grab its shaft, stick out my tongue and lick its tip. I was more or less at his mercy. I just nodded and he motioned me inside the room and closed the door behind me. There was no practical or logical thing he was going to be able to do with me. I could probably kill him if I tried shoving myself all the way inside him, like I could with Lance, and his jaw would need to dislodge to fit his mouth all the way around me. But I had not counted on the perseverance of a dude in love with a huge cock. His mesmerization gave way to worship. Maybe I wasn’t even in the room anymore, just him and my cock, and he started to stroke and kiss and lick my inches with care and reverence. My brain was kind of…not there anymore. Just him and my prick, and what he was doing was driving me crazy. Lance was…kind of a wild man. Our sex was physical and rough, he was a huge dude and liked using his muscles - and I liked him using his muscles - even though I was typically on top and shoving myself inside him. He liked being in charge, and mostly I liked letting him think he was in charge, and there was something exciting about being thrown around like that. This dude, Sam, was gentle and careful, as if he was encountering a wild animal he was afraid to spook. He was making these…low cooing sounds, like I would make sometimes when I eat something especially delicious. He was stroking me, rubbing me against his cheek, licking my entire length, sucking the pre from my slit, gazing at me as he breathed with almost ragged breaths, placing his tongue against my hot, hard, veiny surface and just…holding it there, eyes closed, making low moaning sounds. The man obviously liked cock is what I’m saying. He said “Oh my god,” a lot too, though he didn’t strike me as particularly religious. Meanwhile, my balls were inflating with cream and starting to feel like bowling balls attached to the base of my prick. I was balling my hands into fists so tightly I think my fingernails were digging divots into my palms. My toes curled and my jaw was clenched because this dude had no idea what he was in for when I finally came, and I was gonna start painting the walls any second. “Gonna cum,” I managed to growl. “Uh huh,” he agreed, driving me closer and closer to that goal with his lips and his tongue and his hands. “Gonna…gonna cum,” I repeated, warningly. “Yeah.” Lick. Kiss. Suck. Stroke. Liiiiiiick. Stroke stroke stroke. Suck. Kiss. “Gotta fucking cum,” I announced, as if he knew what those three words meant in my vocabulary. See, ‘gonna cum’ was for when I was just, like, normally horny. Like, I’m gonna cum like you probably are gonna cum, right? Spurt, pause, spurt, pause, spurt spurt spurt. Done. I mean, let’s be honest, your spurt versus my spurt is kind of like comparing an eyedropper to Niagara Falls. I get a fucking load in my nuts that I have to push up over a foot of prick and eject with the force of a hydrant or I’m stuck with blue balls, get where I’m cumming from? Heh. When I say ‘gotta fucking cum,’ though, I. Have. Got. To. Fucking. Cum. You probably ought to stand back and enjoy the show, because my cannon is about to perform the 1812 Overture with full fireworks and maybe even a horse or two on stage. I’m just gonna say this about what happened next; it was probably a good thing that room hadn’t been made up yet, because after I was done they needed to burn those sheets and that carpet and the wallpaper because those are the kind of cum stains that show up on black light. I Pollocked that place, and Sam, too. Luckily, Sam fucking loved getting plastered with cum. Fucking loved it! I started with a nice, long, fat, sticky rope that blasted out of my cock and hit the ceiling, spreading like an upside-down puddle that gathered into a pool of cream that started raining back down on us. My second blast made the first one look like a practice shot, as I gasped in air and tensed my ass and shot a stream so thick and ample that I wondered if I was gonna just empty my balls in one go. But I wasn’t. I wasn’t even close, yet. Sam sat back on his haunches with his hands grasping my dick as I exploded thick fountains of cream and he opened his mouth and close his eyes and took a hot shower in my copious load. I came and came. I think if Lance had been there, I would’ve shoved his growth into overdrive again, just hours after I had already managed to do that. Oh, yeah! Did I forget to mention the reason why we needed a bigger bed? Because we now had a much bigger Lance. But I’ll come back to him. For now I was relating that time I came so much in a hotel room that “painted with cum” would not be an overstatement. Sam was whispering “Oh my god” a lot as my cock kept on pumping fat deliveries of cum that sprayed the room and coated his hands and dripped off my balls like warm honey. I was probably lost in my orgasmic bliss as it was happening, so there wasn’t much I could do to stop it. I think Sam probably tried to put his mouth on my fountain to swallow the wealth of cum I was shoving free, but there was so much of it (and he didn’t have Lance’s superhuman hunger) that he gave up going to the source and merely sucked the excess of his fingers and hands. And there was a lot of excess. When I managed to stop cumming - in other words, when I finally ran out of cum - the room was not going to be usable by anyone that day, and possibly that week. Sam looked like someone had dipped him in yogurt and my cock and balls felt like someone had squeezed them in a vice, or inside Lance’s ass. I was breathing hard and coated in sweat. It had lasted probably a couple of minutes, but it felt like I had been ejaculating for an hour. “Oh my god,” said Sam. I was still breathing hard, and my dick was finally subsiding, but I managed to say, “Sorry,” even as I was laughing at the whole fucking mess. I had lately been with Lance so much that I forgot what I can do given free reign and nowhere to put my load. How was my body producing this much cum! Sam stood up, dripping with cum, his overlarge shirt now clinging to his lanky frame. “That was….” “Weird.” “Amazing! Oh my god, that was insane! Epic! Awesome!” I raised a dubious eyebrow and asked, “Really?” “I’ve never…nobody ever….” He reached down and grabbed my dick and stroked me. Already, a renewed throb of sex rang through me and I touched his hand and said, “Careful. That thing has a hair trigger.” “Oh my god,” he said, opening his hand to let my weight simply lay there in his palm. He rubbed his thumb over the top of my shank and I swelled. “Oh my god.” “Yeah, um, so…can I help you clean up? Or something?” “I think I came,” he reported. “You think you came?” “I mean…without any…without anything touching me, I came. Oh my god.” “Oh. Sorry? I guess?” “Oh my god.” He was now actively rubbing my dick with his thumb as he held my fat shaft in his warm, sticky palm. It felt very good, and my balls were tingling and my cock was starting to lengthen again. “I mean, that’s great? And all? But I think maybe we better cool it before I fill this place up with cum and the walls blow out.” “Oh my god.” “You say that a lot.” “Huh?” He finally looked up from my meat and met my gaze. His glasses hung with thick dollops of cum and I took them off so I could see his eyes. My dick pulsed again because they were so blue and bright. I could see the dark circles his large nipples pressing against his wet shirt, and he had a swimmer’s build under there, sleek and smooth. “Should we clean this up?” “The cleaning staff’ll do it.” “What about…?” “They’ve seen worse,” he reported, but before I could start imagining what that might mean, he suddenly leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine. I was right. They were very soft and very pillowy. We both took a shower in Room 2 and threw our clothes in a dumpster, walking as naked as Lance back to Room 12, where I presumed my recently-grown boyfriend was still sleeping off the latest round of muscular development as was his custom. I suppose it took a lot out of a body to grow muscle and bone and cock to that extent in the space of a few minutes, because he often would more or less pass out after growing. And last night he’d grown maybe bigger and faster than ever. I opened the unlocked door and looked in on Lance, whose body still laid sprawled face-down on the sole bed. His arms and legs extended beyond the edges of the standard queen, and there was no room for much else now. His back was a topographical map of muscular mountains over-layed with that dark luscious mane of soft curls, with a Christmas tree lower back made of two hard columns leading down to the most amazing round, thickly muscled butt humps the world had ever seen. Lance truly put the maximus in his gluteus. His legs were equally staggering in size and development, and his feet were huge. Size 16? I couldn’t even guess. His head rested on one bent arm, which made the biceps and triceps stick out sharply, and his other was hanging off the edge of the bed. He was snoring. Like a bear. “Oh my god,” Sam said softly. “Don’t worry,” I said in a normal tone, “you won’t wake him up.” “I knew he was big but…oh. My. God.” “Yeah, um, so, is there maybe another double standard we could have? As you can see one bed isn’t quite…enough.” “How big is he?” “Not entirely sure, to be honest. Must be over seven feet tall? I’d guess? And, um, five feet wide? Ish?” “Seven. Feet?” I shrugged. I hadn’t measured him in weeks, and last night’s growth was a staggering surprise. “Um, did you want to borrow some clothes? Sorry again about….” “Don’t even mention it. It was my pleasure. Absolutely. But, yeah, I gotta get back to the front desk, in case…oh my god, that dude is huge!” His southern accent became more pronounced when he was excited. “Well, yes, exactly, so if you could find us something a little…bigger?” “Yeah, lemme get the key to Room 4.” He looked down at his naked body. “And, um, I guess I could use some pants and a shirt, if that’s okay.” “Here,” I said, handing him my bag, “take whatever you want. I think I might be joining my friend’s simple wardrobe choice from now on.” Sam looked at me, passing a discerning eye up and down my gym-trained body and the fat shank of impressive meat jutting forward over two egg-sized nuts in a tight scrotal sack and said, “I doubt anyone would object.” “Don’t start, dude. You saw what happens when someone gets my motors running.” “You just came a few pints of heavy cream, Mr. Jenkins, I kind of doubt you’ve got any more in you.” “It’s just Dave, Sam. And you might be surprised what I can do when put to the test.” He looked with reverent adoration at my cock, now at rest and at its less-than-Olympian dimensions and blew a breath out between those soft, kissable lips. “I ain’t never seen a cock as beautiful as yours, Dave.” “Seen a lot of cocks, have you?” “More’n my fair share, probably. Straight boys don’t give a damn whose sucking their stick when the sucker knows what he’s doing.” And that certainly described Sam. “When we get re-situated and sleeping beauty awakens, feel free to drop by. I’m sure Lance would be more than happy to give you a new challenge.” He looked at the recumbent figure of my boyfriend, and particularly at his mammoth and gorgeous butt, and asked, “Does he…like rim jobs?” “I don’t think ‘like’ is an adequate word to describe how Lance feels about someone tonguing his hole. And take it from someone well-acquainted with the practice, the rewards are also more than adequate.” Sam moaned appreciably and handed me the key to the other room. “If you need anything - and I mean fucking anything at all - please allow me to service your every need.” “On behalf of both of us, let me say that I look forward to seeing how well you can accomplish the goals we set. Based solely on your first test,” I said, running my hand down the fat, warm shank of my prick, “I think we may have repeated need for your services.” He smiled and winked. “My very great pleasure, Mr. Jenkins.” Sam paused looking at the handsome naked man sleeping silently on the bed. His thickly muscled back rose and fell as he breathed. He had one long leg stretched out and the other bent at the knee, so that one could view his muscular rump both bunched up like a solid ball and stretched forth with a deep divot along the side that created a rising mountain of brawn. “Do you think he’d mind if I…?” Then he looked at me. “Would you mind if I…?” “You want to know what it feels like lying atop my boyfriend?”

NAKED Part Seven Rock Bottom was, it must be said, rather sad. Gay bars, by and large, were disappearing as we gays were now allowed to get married and adopt kids and behave in a thoroughly not-gay manner. Lance was technically bi, or maybe more like omnisexual, but I elected to include him in my exclusive and fabulous tribe for this trip. He insisted on going there first, and he was unusually animated and excited about it. Lance took most things in stride, which I guess was only natural when you’re maybe the world’s most beautiful full-time nudist. I’d grown used to his broad and ready acceptance of people and situations as if everything that had been going on - him gaining pounds of muscle and inches in height and the strength to benchpress a small sedan, me growing a constantly-fountaining baseball bat from my loins - were normal. But he had lots of questions about gay bars that I didn’t have answers for, so we set off from our sex-wrecked room as the sun was setting, but still shining brightly. Obviously we drew attention as we walked calmly along the sidewalks the few blocks it took to get to the bar nearer the beach. It was already technically Spring Break so there were plenty of nubile young giggling things in barely-there bikinis, but since this was America and not France, the dudes wore board shorts or square-cuts instead of Speedos. I was wearing loose cargo shorts, flip-flops and a tank top. I elected to go commando and eschew underwear tonight, and I was enjoying the feeling of the wind kissing the length of my prick hanging loosely inside my shorts. Lance wore nothing. Not even his backpack. A group of shirtless guys passed by on the opposite side. They looked swole, and one of them held up his thumbs and shouted “Dude! Way to go!” “This might be easier than I thought,” I said. “What?” Lance acted as if the shouts were for someone else. “You being naked.” He glanced across the street and returned the thugs up. “Everyone seems really friendly,” he observed. “I hope they want to fuck.” I’m sure my face took on a very dubious look as I watched the uber-straight boys with their aesthetically worked-out bodies wander away. ‘They do,’ I thought, ‘only not with us.’ “Ugh,” I said, entering the very dark environs with my naked boyfriend in tow. “This is pathetic.” “Why?” I gestured at the mostly empty barstools and the clientele of, it must be said, men several years past their sell-by date. “I was hoping to have some fun,” I said, “but this place is dead.” I listened to the jazz vocalist piping over the speakers. “Literally.” Lance shrugged his mighty shoulders and smiled his bright, beautiful smile. “Fun’s what you make it, Dave,” he said, and he strode purposely forward toward the bar. The lack of conversation inside became apparent as soon as my eyesight adjusted to the darkness. Every man - and it was only men - had turned toward us, or more specifically toward Lance, and looked either shocked, surprised, or giddy. He was a huge mountain of naked masculine perfection. Maybe they thought they were dreaming or something, but Lance just walked up to the bartender, an admittedly handsome man in his 40s or 50s who had once been a muscular beast but had gone a bit soft, and he said, “Hey!” “Huh-hey,” he responded mutely. Lance shoved his hand forward and said, “I’m Lance!” “I’m naked,” the bartender answered. “No,” Lance corrected, leaning closer, “I’m the naked one. You’re the bartender.” He bent his arm on the bar and flexed his mind-bending biceps to full bloom. He was fucking flirting with the dude, mercilessly. “What?” Lance licked his lips slowly. “What’s your name?” “Ted. Sorry. Teddy! I’m Teddy.” “And this is my friend Dave. Dave, this is Teddy.” “Naked,” Teddy said, offering his hand. “Pleased to meet you,” I responded. “Sorry,” Teddy said, shifting his undivided attention back towards Lance and his biceps, “you’re naked, right?” “Totally,” Lance acknowledged. “And…hot.” “He’s pretty fucking hot,” I agreed. “Could I get a beer, Teddy?” “A beer.” “Foamy thing? Served cold? Comes in a mug?” “Beer! Sure, I…sure.” He pulled a mug from behind the bar and stuck it under the tap, doing it all while never taking his eyes off my naked boyfriend. Then he set it in front of Lance, who scooted it along the bar to me. I wasn’t sure if I was amused at or jealous of the attention that Lance was receiving. I mean, I was a decent looking guy and I’d be willing to bet that if I’d walked in here alone, I’d be the one garnering all this manly attention. But how was I supposed to compete with my lover’s overwhelming - and naked - perfection? “This your place, Teddy?” I asked. Teddy nodded and wrinkled his brow. “Sorry but…you’re naked right?” “Uh huh,” Lance responded, smiling. “Totally…naked.” “Don’t worry,” Lance reported, “You’ll get used to it. Everybody does.” Teddy leaned over the bar to get a better look. Lance straighten to give him the full Monty and Teddy gazed down Lance’s body before his eyes rested upon my roommate’s massive and fully-exposed meat. “Holy fuck.” “Thanks, Teddy,” Lance said simply. “You wanna suck it?” “Suck…your cock?” “Yeah, Teddy. Did you want to suck my cock? Or I could suck yours.” “I’d take him up on it,” I advised the bartender. “He’s really good at it.” “Right…right now?” Lance nodded. “Right here?” “Wherever,” Lance answered. “But we’re both here right now, so….?” He reached down and surrounded his heavy meat in his grip, running his hand along the inches of his shank and rubbing the tip of his dick with the pad of his thumb. “Dave and I were fucking for a while, so my ass is kind of spent, otherwise I’d be happy for you to fuck me.” Teddy looked at me. “You?” I shrugged. “There’s more to me than meets the eye,” I reported. “I’m just not as good at advertising.” “You like to fuck or get fucked, Teddy?” “I…both…I guess.” “Nice. And what are you feeling like at the moment?” “I…sure…I’d like to suck your dick.” “Excellent.” Lance walked to the end of the bar and lifted the service passthrough, going behind and walking his fine ass towards where Teddy, dumbfounded, stood planted. “It’s pretty big,” Lance admitted, slowly stroking himself, “but if you start out soft I don’t think your jaw’ll hurt so much by the end.” “The end.” “When I cum.” “He cums a lot,” I reported, “so I hope you like swallowing.” Teddy nodded blankly in the affirmative and dropped to his knees, eye-to-cock with Lance. He lifted Lance’s heavy prick towards his lips and kissed the tip softly, and then he stuck out his tongue and started licking Lance from stem to stern. “Teddy giving that young man a blow job?” I looked over into the face of an older black man with salt-and-pepper hair and a thick mustache. He was dressed rather nicely, I thought, in a navy blue blazer and grey slacks. “Yep,” I acknowledged. “Teddy’s okay at giving head,” the man said. “Yeah?” He nodded. “Oh yeah. Not as good as me, though. Me, I love sucking dick.” He pointed at his throat. “No gag reflex.” “Uh huh.” “Ben,” he said, offering his hand as he gazed over the bar at Teddy’s on-going manipulations. “Dave,” I offered, “and that’s…” “Lance,” Lance said, offering his free hand to Ben, since his other was cupped behind Teddy’s head at the moment. “He do this a lot?” Ben asked, still watching the action behind the bar. I sipped my beer. “What’s a lot?” Ben shrugged his small shoulders. He looked like he was in his 60s. “Dunno. More’n once a week?” I shook my head as I gulped my beer. “No, we’re in town for Spring Break, so this is kind of a vacation.” “And he wants to spend it getting his dick sucked?” “Among other things.” “Smart man,” Ben concluded. “What about you?” “Me?” Lance said, “You should suck his dick, Ben. Dave has an amazing dick.” Ben raised an eyebrow. “You a cocksucker or…?” I nodded. “He’s my boyfrined. That,” I said, nodding at Lance’s ample appendage, “gives me lots of practice.” I pointed at my own throat. “No gag reflex.” He laughed gently. “Did I hear right? Earlier?” “Which part?”
 “You fuck him?” I nodded again, sucking the beer through the foamy head. “Damn, son, that’s impressive.” “He’s the only guy who fits.” “What’s that mean?” I pivoted on the bar stool and tugged up the hem of my shorts, revealing the bulbous head of my monster prick that was already edging closer to my knee. “Gifted,” I said, rubbing the mushroom with my thumb and causing it to weep a drizzle of pre. Teddy was making wet slurping sounds behind the bar and Lance was groaning like a bear. The familiar sound of his pleasure made my libido fire up and my cock started swelling with need. “Fuck me,” Ben said, sounding impressed. He reached forward and took my dick in his cool, dry hand, caressing me gently. “This cobra get any angrier?” “Oh, yeah,” I said, already feeling my load building. “You’d be amazed.” He grabbed me more firmly, stroking my fat shaft and making the helmet bulge. “Would I?” I smiled and nodded. Ben couldn’t compare to Lance’s eager and worshipful mouth, but the man had probably sucked on hundreds of cocks over the years and true to his word, he could take all of me on. I severely tested his “no gag reflex” claim once I was back at full power and swollen to wrist-thickness again, but it only seemed to heighten his desire to suck every inch of my meat inside him. I warned him that I always delivered a heavy load and that I was close, but he only nodded and kept his mouth clamped onto my prick as I released my flood and started pumping cream like a fucking cow. He gagged, but who wouldn’t? No one could expect the load I was able to flood inside someone’s guts, except Lance of course. I wondered, again, if my load would change him. Why only Lance and no one else? I watched for signs of his body changing, that weird heat that Lance would give off, or that funky smell like sex and sweat, or his clothes getting tighter on his old body. He was old, but he sure didn’t seem frail. And though I’d never considered being with an older guy before, I had to give him something for his experience and fortitude. Plus the dude managed to swallow quite a bit of my delivery before he had to pull his mouth off my spurting beast and watch bug-eyed as I came and came and came before some other old dude grabbed on and pushed his mouth over my magic prick. Between Lance and me, we got head from every dude in Rock Bottom that night. I got passed around like a fucking doobie, with every guy in there taking his turn sucking me off as I came non-stop to the amazement and encouragement of the dozen or so clients. Lance was obviously very popular in his own right. At one point he had five guys all servicing him at once; one swallowing his dick whole, one pushing his face between Lance’s muscled butt cheeks and slurping at his hot hole, two more licking and nibbling on his fat nipples hanging off the end of those humungous pectoral globes, and a final dude kissing his mouth with sloppy eagerness. Hands fucking everywhere, caressing all that massive muscular perfection bulging from every inch of his towering frame, all the old priests of manhood worshipping at the most perfect alter ever created. He must have fucked every dude in there on the pool table and letting this one kinda fat dude fuck his ass for some reason, but the guy was enthusiastic and totally into it, and Lance seemed to enjoy it. By the time we left a couple of hours later I had to admit, Lance was right again. Fun’s what you make it. It was nearly nine o’clock by the time we headed out. I was pretty sure I had been drained dry by all the attention, but Lance looks as ready as ever to throw himself on the bed, spread his muscular legs, open up his tight pink pucker and invite me inside. “Who was that guy near the end? The fat guy who fucked you?” Lance smiled in remembrance. “That was Cam. Cameron.” Then he corrected himself again. “Dr. Cameron McKenzie. Very smart. Very sweet. English professor at the community college. Shakespeare scholar.” He looked over to me. “Why do you ask?” “He’s the only guy who fucked you.” “Yes,” Lance confirmed. “I was just curious.” “I noticed him watching. He was the only man in the room not waiting in line to be with you or me. Kind of stood out for not standing out, I guess. So I went over to ask him. Cam was shy at first…” “Or maybe he was intimidated.” “Huh. Hadn’t thought of that.” Lance wouldn’t have. It was one of the main reasons I loved him. “Anyway, he confessed to me that it had been a long time since he felt like he could fuck someone. ‘Be with someone,’ was how he put it, and I asked, ‘you mean fuck someone?’ and he nodded. It was kind of attractive, actually, how shy he seemed. Cam said he’d been in love for a long time with a man and it ended badly, and he lost his desire for sex. He felt ashamed and abandoned, which seemed so sad to me. He couldn’t get an erection around other guys, he said. Plus then he’d gained a lot of weight and felt unattractive and depressed. I mean, he’s still sexy, obviously. Really beautiful, intense eyes. Full lips. He smelled good, too. ‘My brain gets in the way of my libido,’ is how he put it.” Lance’s voice was thoughtful and caring as he told me about Cam. I wondered if I would’ve noticed him in the back of the bar, and realized I probably would’ve just ignored him. “He was obviously very smart, and very funny. But his self esteem was at an all-time low. Only jerks off to porn, lately, he admitted. I thought that he just needed some confidence, to know someone found him attractive and wanted to be with him. I thought he needed a challenge, too, not a shoulder to cry on.” “Oh.” We walked on a little ways and I had to ask, “And you found a challenge that allowed him to solve his problem, obviously." "I did." "May I ask how you did that?" He quickly rounded on me, blocking my path, a naked wall of pure sex and muscle, moving with preternatural reflexes, and took my shoulders in his hands roughly. Using very little strength he pushed me down an alleyway. Lance moved me against a darkened storefront and placed his warm hand onto my crotch. "I put my hand on his dick, like this, and pressed myself against his body, like this.” He squeezed me gently. “And leaned in close to his face, like this, with my lips next to his ear and my breath on his neck, like this.” I could smell his raw scent strongly, like a dog in heat. “And I told him, quite softly, so only he could hear, 'If you get hard right now, with me, you can fuck me as deeply, and as roughly, and as hard, and as long as you want to.’" I couldn't move. Lance's muscular body had me pinned against the wall. He shoved his hand inside my shorts and grabbed my meat, I felt his rough palm keenly against the tightening skin of my inflating prick. He was pulling and tugging on me to position my dick so the mouth pointed upward, to allow my monstrous cock to grow to its full extents, all the while keeping his lips to my ear, his bearded cheek against my tender, smoothly shaven one, whispering filthy promises. "'You have never in your entire life fucked an ass as tight, as muscular, as hot, as deep as mine. You've never felt anything surround your cock with the power and need of my ass. You can ride me all night long, and I’ll never get tired, I’ll never stop. But only if you get hard. Right. Now.'" I was hard as steel. My dick was poking half its length above my waistband leaking pre as Lance began to kiss my mouth and stroke the exposed inches of my meat. The alley was dark and smelled rank, but the feeling of the huge hard muscles pressing me helplessly against the wall, the passionate kisses pressing against my lips, and Lance's rough grip sliding up and down my cock, milking thick warm honey from my balls, had me ready to blow a fat load. "Gonna...gonna cum," I gasped between kisses. "Gotta cum fucking now. Gonna...fucking...explode." Lance shoved one hand against my chest and pinned me against the wall. Whether he knew I was enjoying his manhandling or he was enjoying it or both I couldn't know and didn't care. His head shot down and he plunged his mouth over the whole head of my prick and I blasted fat fountains of cum down his throat. "My balls..." I gasped. He undid my shorts with his other hand, ripping them, and they fell around my ankles. He was sucking and moaning with audible pleasure as he cupped my aching balls with his free hand, groping and caressing my egg-sized nuts, milking my cream up the heavy meat of my monster prick. I started cumming even harder, the sensation of my stream of hot cream traveling up my cock growing intense and fervent. I was grabbing his shoulders to hang onto something as a huge orgasmic wave overtook me, an inundating flood of pure sex that nearly made me black out. He was growing. I could feel it. His delts were inflating under my grip, spreading my fingers apart. With one hand coaxing the cum from my balls and the other slowly stroking my slick, hard shaft, Lance pulled on the mouth of my spurting fountain, swallowing everything I had to give him. I felt so good, it hurt. I wanted to stop cumming as much as I wanted to keep cumming. I could only feel Lance's growing muscles, it was too dark in the alley to see them swelling. I felt his fingers on my balls loosen and his middle finger was rubbing my taint and moving closer to my hole. I lifted one leg slightly to allow him access. I wanted to feel him inside me. I wanted him sucking me and caressing my balls and fucking my ass with his thick, manly fingers all at the same time. His hand was so huge! His other bear paw kept me pinned to the wall and he worked his way to my butt hole with that probing digit and pushed into me, a welcome intrusion I pushed back against out of reflex, and I felt him laugh on my gushing prick, as if to tell me I had no say in the matter. It felt like the last time, in the gym, him on the bench, me inside him, watching him grow. “Gotta fuck you,” I huffed, breathless with desire, “gotta fuck you right now.” He pulled his mouth off my spouting cock and released me from his grip against the wall. I nearly collapsed to my knees but my desire to fuck his perfect ass overwhelmed any other drive my body or my brain had at that moment. My cock was like an unmoored crane shooting cum like a fountain. Lance threw himself to all-fours and wanted me to do him like a dog, like two dogs in heat, fucking in an alley. I moved between his legs and shoved them apart with my knees. I felt in the darkness for his tight hot hole. He was warm and wet, maybe with sweat, maybe with Cameron’s cum. He wanted me inside so he opened himself and I found his gaping invitation, fitting three fingers in him, finding him so wet and lifted those fingers to my nostrils and sucked in a deep, glorious breath of his manly stink. I guided the pumping mouth of my mammoth prick to his hole and pushed hard to get inside his perfect paradise. I leaned over him, pumping my hips and shooting thick streams of cum. I reached my hands across his wide back and could feel the bulging masses moving beneath his skin. He arched his back and howled like a dog or a wolf, and I slapped his ass resoundingly and started fucking his ass hard and deep. It felt like an instinct I could not withstand, like an urge that could not be denied. I connected to him like before, plug to socket, feeding him power. And more power. And more. And he took it all. Every drop.

NAKED Part Five In retrospect, Lance’s unusual wardrobe decision - or more accurately the decided lack thereof - proved providential and advantageous. Sure, you can go online and find clothes to fit even the largest male frame, and there are specialty stores for the “big & tall” that accommodate those of either stature, or both. Lance was now in a rather extraordinary league of his own, and even if he were not averse to the wearing of clothes, anything he could possibly squeeze his body’s dimensions into would do very little to hide its new and rather outrageous contours. Everything was bigger, and I do mean everything. As he had lain there on that weight bench with my dick pumping inside his ass, I watched his body swelling beyond even what I could have imagined possible. The muscle swelled as if it were being inflated, and maybe they were and I was the one accomplishing the inflating. As much as Lance insisted that he wasn’t doing anything and all his unusual muscular development was my achievement, I couldn’t help but wonder why I had never had an effect like this - nor had anyone else as far as I knew - before meeting him. The sensation of pumping a near-constant and seemingly unlimited stream of cum inside him had been accompanied by an equally powerful orgasmic eruption that shook me to the core of my being. It was like…well, I don’t even know what it was fucking like! You know how it feels when you finally reach that peak of sexual fulfillment and part of your soul takes hold of your cock when you cum, and your body gets hot and cold and your breath catches and your toes curl and you think you might die but you don’t? That sensation - unless, I guess, you’re Sting - lasts between 5 and 20 seconds for the average American male. I wasn’t timing it as I stood there with my dick lodged inside Lance’s tight hole and his muscles were swelling and his own cock stretched and thickened into a tool of magnificence, but I would guess I probably experienced a 60 or 90 second orgasmic explosion during which my dick felt like it was streaming unending ropes of cream. Just pause and look at your watch and see how long a minute and a half orgasm actually lasts, and imagine yourself pumping a stream of cum the whole time. It was...intense. To say the least. My balls physically hurt afterwards, as you would imagine, and I was pretty certain I’d never manage to cum again. I looked up that average orgasm length afterwards on Google, as well as the amount of sperm a guy like me should expect to be spurting from his little man, and that amount is one teaspoon. One. Little. Teaspoon. Dudes, I know when you blow your load you imagine that you’re flinging a metric fuck-ton of your baby-jam all over your partner of choice, but it’s about the same amount of sugar you probably put in your morning cup o’ joe. How many teaspoons was I capable of producing, now? And how was that possible without me blowing a fucking gasket or something? Where was it all coming (heh) from? Lance swelled with power after his world-record-breaking weightlifting success that only he and I would ever know happened. He was breathing hard, his skin flushed red, his muscles bulging and throbbing, fat veins of blood traversing his brawn, and I ran my hands along his legs and felt them swelling, too. He was gulping air into his lungs and his arms were out to the sides of his body as it continued to grow larger and larger. I felt my unbelievable orgasmic explosion finally subsiding and I pulled myself free of the vice of his ass. He seemed unwilling to let me go, squeezing against my departure like a greedy child who wanted more candy, but I was out of juice and my balls hurt and my dick felt like it was on fucking fire. I had to actually step back away from his hot, swollen body to manage myself from his butt. My dick was red and shiny with juice and covered in a thick network of veins. I moved my hands onto my cock, surrounding my meat in my grip and struggled against Lance’s desire to hold me inside him, physically pulling myself loose of him. I managed at last to withdraw my throbbing meat from his unyielding ass and was again awestruck by what had happened. I was fucking humungous! My dick was…outrageous! As thick as my wrist and inches longer than it had been only minutes ago! It was standing straight out from my body and visibly throbbing with the beats of my heart. It felt now like it weighed about eighty pounds and as its weight was no longer supported inside Lance’s velvet vice, it sank quickly as it deflated and I watched the surface growing smoother and the head begin to dangle towards the floor. Spunk was fucking everywhere. I’d need three or four more towels just to wipe up all the excess! He groaned and it sent a shiver through me and, incredibly, made my dick throb and tingle with renewed lust. There was just no possible way I had a drop of cum left to give him, but my dick seemed to have other ideas. I looked at him lying on the bench and he looked groggy or dazed. And why shouldn’t he be? It looked like he had just packed on a couple dozen extra pounds of muscle in the space of a few minutes! If I thought he looked big before, now he looked crazy huge! Mr. Olympia sized. “Fuck,” he said with a low moan. It sounded like an order for sex and my cock started tingling again. “You can say that again,” I replied. My dick was rapidly shrinking from its gargantuan extents and thankfully it looked like I was a grower not a shower. I mean, fuck yeah, I was a shower with a 7- or 8-inch monster, but at least I wasn’t going to have to haul around that crazy monstrosity in my jeans. It was drooling the remnants of my load, probably just shoving out whatever was left in its fat shank when it shrank. “Did you get the number of that truck that hit me?” he asked, grinning that fucking beautiful grin of his. He looked like Samson or Hercules lying there, and his own fat prick was now as limp as mine, but his looked like it was determined to retain its new growth. It was a gorgeous fat length or perfect male sex, and I wanted very badly to lick it clean with my tongue. He sat up and looked down at his bigger chest, moving his hand up to run his touch across the rippled surface of the globes mounted there. He fingers dug into the thick carpet of his furry chest and smeared his cum all over like lacquer. “Jesus, Dave,” he said. “What did you do to me?” “I… You… Made you bigger, obviously.” Lance looked up at me smiling, easing my trepidation. “Obviously.” He moved his hand off his chest to his opposite arm and tensed his bigger biceps into full-blown power. It was mind-bending, how big his arms were now. Bigger than any I’d ever seen. He was painting a gleaming trail of cum across his swollen muscles. It was fucking sexy as fuck. “Damn,” he said. “You feel okay?” He moved his legs off the bench and stood up. And then kept standing up. His body seemed to be…adjusting to its new larger extents. The veins were being subsumed by the intense cuts and striations of muscle everywhere, and his skin was glowing and sleek. He had initially looked absurdly vascular and his skin was almost non-existent, as if he were an anatomy chart of male muscle. But now he was exhibiting his more usual…physical beauty. But he was indeed - and undeniably - bigger everywhere. “Damn,” he said again, looking down at me. “Come ‘ere.” “Over there?” He nodded. “Where you are?” “Right here.” He pointed to the floor at his feet. I walked towards him, feeling the intense heat from his newly-developed body growing stronger with every step. He was nothing but a wall of muscle, a mountain of it, bulging out thickly from every inch of him. No one ever looked that big. I didn’t think anyone ever could. But it looked…right. That was all I could think of looking at Lance. He didn’t look weird or outsized or dangerous. He looked…perfect. I stood next to him and placed my hands against his chest. He closed his eyes as I touched him and groaned again, making my dick start to plump. I rubbed my thumbs against his fat nipples and he sucked in a sudden, harsh breath. “Feels nice,” he said. “I can tell,” I replied, because I could. His fat dick was already swelling as I played with his sensitive rubbery nubs and ran the edges of my thumbnails over his tits. They were as large as the last knuckle my pinkie finger and growing hard as I entertained my desires. He opened his eyes and licked his lips and bent his head down to mine, several inches below, and pressed his warm mouth to mine. The kiss was almost chaste, compared with how he usually attacked me, tender and loving, and he said, quietly, “thank you,” before kissing my lips again. He was hot and he was hard, and, yes, that refers also to his dick and his libido, but as he pressed himself towards me and I felt his naked form against my much smaller body, heat was still emanating from him like some human oven, and his muscles were not only large, they were firm and nearly unyielding. I tried to move my arms around his larger bulk and he moaned with desire, wrapping his own strong arms around me as well and squeezing me. It was like being surrounded by velvet-covered rocks that moved. And he smelled so fucking good. I could feel my dick throbbing and my balls tingling and my own desire climbing like a thermometer at the equator. Before things got too heated - again - i pulled my mouth from his (reluctantly) and told him, “Dudes are gonna start showing up to use the gym and I made kind of a mess.” He turned his handsome head on his thick and muscular neck and looked down at the cold puddles of cum on the floor. “Oh,” he said, “yeah.” “Probably should clean that up.” He looked back at me. “Probably.” “I’m not sure you should help me, though. I mean, every time you get some of me on you….” “Not every time,” he said, rolling his eyes for added sarcastic effect. I pushed myself from his embrace with some difficulty and regarded his new dimensions, raising a doubtful eyebrow regarding his protest. I looked him up and down, from the top of his shaggy mane of luscious curls across the impressive and vast mountains and valleys of brawn bulging on his torso to the fatter, longer shank of sex jutting from his groin to the, Jesus, size 14 feet at the other end of his body. “No,” I agreed, “not every time.” He was smiling his beautiful smile again and shrugged his cantaloupe-sized delts. “Maybe you’re right.” I pushed at his massive (and unyielding) chest and said, “I’ll see you back in the dorms. Can you just…put all the weights back? I kind of think someone walking in and seeing that,” I said, nodding towards the bar groaning with over 1,000 pounds of steel mounted on it, “might start asking questions.” “Plus,” he said, “it’s just polite.” “What?” “Putting your stuff away when you’re done with it.” For a constantly-naked, absurdly handsome, incredibly capable superman with a 10-inch prick, Lance was the very model of courteousness. Of course everyone noticed that Lance was…incredibly large, suddenly. I could see it written on faces and reflected in saucer-sized eyes and dropped jaws. He would enter a room and all talking would cease and every eye turned towards this handsome naked colossus, well over six feet high and bulging with more muscle than your average comic book superhero. I’m pretty sure that more than one dick immediately inflated to full erection and started splooging and all the girls were sopping wet. My own dick was in overdrive even more than usual around him, and all he had to do was wink at me and I was fountaining ropes of hot cream. Curiously, no one said anything to me or asked anything of him. He continued to attend classes, now barely fitting his broad, heavy, muscular bulk into the chairs. His cock and balls were monstrous and seemed to be chubbed into a constant state of near-arousal, and somehow he was looking even more handsome with that thick beard and those chiseled features and piercing sea-colored gaze. Maybe it was like Harry Potter and they were all Muggles and Lance and I were magic-users. Muggles saw magic all the time in those books, but simply elected to ignore it. Lance was overtly and observably magic, growing bigger, more powerful, and more beautiful almost on a daily basis, while I was packing sexual equipment so conspicuous and pornographic it defied explanation and I could cum almost constantly when we were together. He decided we should take it easy for a while and I agreed with some reluctance. That meant that he could fuck me, but I couldn’t fuck him, and I could (attempt to) suck his prick but he shouldn’t suck mine. I was still cumming uncontrollably like a fountain but Lance wasn’t taking it inside his body, and I know I enjoyed the sensation of his massive meat shoving inside my little butt with something akin to insane bliss. His cock was…well, it was its own kind of magic. Not as huge as mine (not that we took the time to measure when we could be fucking instead, but we did enjoy rubbing up against each other and I was obviously the larger of us at least in that one department) but thick and hot and the man had some butt muscles that could ram that thing home like a machine, and all I ever wanted was more. So I’m a bossy bottom. Sue me. He also seemed to curtail his other trysts, though I never asked that of him. Maybe he used to have sex with others because he worried about wearing me out, because the dude was constantly horned up. Luckily for him - and for me - my own libido had inflated to match his, and I was starting to wonder if I should join my boyfriend in his naked lifestyle just to relieve the painful pressure of trying to keep my massive meat cooped up when it was throbbing and bulging whenever I looked at him, or even thought about him. And how was I supposed to stop thinking about a nearly seven-foot-tall mountain of naked muscle who wanted nothing more than to be having sex with me at all hours of the day and night? It was like having a plate of chocolate in front of you and told not to taste it. Don’t get me wrong, we were getting our eight hours of shut-eye in, but from the minute we got back together in our room until one or the other of us suggested that it was time to retire to separate beds, i was sucking him or he was fucking me. I mean, it was almost literally non-stop, and if you think that kind of activity would get dull when you’re doing it every day for hours, let me tell that it’s anything but dull when your cock can constantly cum and your boyfriend has the energy, fortitude, and staying power of a rutting rhino. We also talked, because as much as Lance loved sex, he also loved to just cuddle. And for those of you who hear the word cuddle and sneer, might I suggest you try cuddling with a musclebound stallion with the face of an angel and the capabilities of an expert sensualist? When Lance was kissing you, and stroking you, with his soft warm lips pressed to yours and his talented hands caressing every inch of your naked body, you’re going to change your opinion concerning "just cuddling" and fast! For Lance - and for me under his tutelage and careful instruction - making love was exactly that. I felt like I was the most important person in the entire world to him. He made me feel safe and happy and content, and when we were into heavier activities he made me feel excited and thrilled and energized. He read me like some erotic book, and there were many, many more pages than I ever realized. There was only one problem, though, and I tried not to let on how much my balls ached. It seemed like no matter how much I beat off in the shower or stroked a heavy load into the sink or the toilet or sucked myself dry (it’s amazing what you can accomplish when you own a foot-long cock and have some time to yourself) I could never fully relieve myself of the magic elixir that was turning my boyfriend into Superman. Allow me to pause here for a moment and say a word about sucking your own dick. Now, I understand that for some men, this is the Nirvana of masturbatory pleasure. You imagine, as I did, that if stroking your stiffy with a palm full of spit, luxuriating in the sensations a hard cock can deliver, and obviously since you’re jerking your own meat you know exactly what feels good, then pulling your own cock inside your own mouth must be just the perfect expression of self-loving. Those of you who, like me, have been able to accomplish this goal may attest the same realization that I had, which is to say that no matter how much you want to suck your own dick, that activity cannot possibly match the sensation of having an expert and enthusiastic cocksucker attending to your little guy. Lance, it probably goes without saying, is both an expert and an enthusiast when it came to sucking me off. Even that first day when he went down on me, literally, almost without preamble and applied his ample talents to my joint, I knew that here was a man who fucking loved sucking cock. You can tell when someone loves it from the sounds they make, those pauses when they pull their mouth off your meat, gasping and licking their lips, gazing with reverence and hunger at your dick like it was the last meal they’re ever going to get. And it’s not just the mouth action, right? It’s tongue and hands and fingers and occasional teeth all working in some magical combination that you, yourself, cannot hope to match. When I started trying to pull my cockhead to my lips, it was more athletic event than sexual escapade. It was a physical trial of sorts, easing my long, fat dick nearer and nearer towards my face. And I needn’t remind you that my cock presents an additional challenge at it throbs there above your face due to my overabundant supply of sexual fluid that become more copious the more excited I become. So as I neared my goal, my excitement in attaining the taste of my own cock on my own tongue - the “winning” of that goal as well as the sexual anticipation - made me spurt and drool from the mouth of my monster with growing volume, and try as I might to capture my own spurts and flows in my mouth, more often than not as I spasmed and jerked in that weird doubled-over position, I was cumming in my eyes or up my nose or drooling a steady stream of pre all over my face like warm honey. Some guys like that. I’ve been with a few, edging myself to the point of wild insanity before pointing my throbbing meat at a guy’s joy-filled expression of anticipation and shoving my hot load all over him, but it’s not my personal cup of tea. Also, have you ever had cum up your nose? Fun, it is not. When at last I mastered this talent and could, with relative ease, throw my legs over my head and point my cock unerringly at my open mouth and push myself inside myself, I then had to either pump my legs to fuck my mouth or jerk my head up and down to perform self-fellatio and neither of those activities, my friend, is very comfortable or gratifying. No, I advise you to go out and find or hire someone who is not only good at sucking a cock, but enjoys it with the gusto and fervor of a dog with his last, you should excuse the expression, bone. Of the many sexual activities that Lance and I enjoyed together, I may have missed the overwhelming joy of his mouth around my spurting cock more than I was willing to admit. The dude could really, really suck dick. He was often so engaged in this singular pursuit that I might wonder if he realized that my cock was attached to a person. But them he would swallow me and suck me and raise his sea-colored eyes to mine and I could see in them the absolute worship the dude had for my cock and the absolutely love he had for me, too. And then I’d find myself exploding even harder down his throat, gasping for air from the onslaught of absolute pleasure. So obviously, after some weeks of our mutually-agreed-upon sexual limitations had passed, I was feeling a bit…antsy. I was lounging in his arms, my ass throbbing after a particularly athletic fuck-fest, my constantly-drooling dick still drooling warm cream on my belly as I made leisurely little circles in the pool of cum, and I asked him, “How big do you think you’ll get?” He made his meat bulge against me, a hard hot fat length of cock inflating and pressing into my back reminding me of the size of him (as if I needed that), “Did I hurt you?” “You never hurt me, or you hurt me the way I like being hurt,” I responded. I gathered some cum on my fingers and sucked it inside my mouth. I made so much of it that I was accustomed to doing this frequently, just to keep it from being everywhere. I probably swallowed more of my cum than Lance did by this point, and I loved the taste of it - and his as well. My sucking sounds made him groan longingly and his heavy muscular arms squeezed me slightly. “No, I mean, this.” I lifted my head and butted against his pectoral globe, indicating his muscular bulk. He flexed his chest into hard power and lifted my head with the solid globe of hard meat. “How big do you want me to get?” The question sent chills through me. I felt a thrill of excitement, like the thrill I had experienced watching him that morning in the gym. Watching him grow - and knowing that I was the one causing it to happen - there was almost nothing more exciting than that! Plugging my cock into his ass and opening my spigot fully and just…letting myself go, pumping everything I could inside him and pushing his muscles beyond human capacity…. I mean, fuuuuuuuck. My cock jerked and a heavy stream of cum shot out, splattering against my chest and neck. My whole cock sent hard shocks of sexual bliss through my body just imagining those moments. “I see,” he said, chuckling softly. I turned over on his body to face him. He was a pile of boulders I was climbing across, and I rubbed my spurting cock against his, slowly grinding my hips against him. I was lubing the space between our skin with ropes of warm cream. “I want you as big as you want to become. As powerful, as beautiful, as muscular as you can dream of being. That morning, when you…when I was watching you growing, cumming inside you, fucking you as you swelled bigger and bigger. I…I never felt anything like that.” “So I’m not too big?” I kissed his mouth and spurted fat fountains of cum from my massive cock. “You will never be too big for me.” He wrapped his arms around me and we kissed each other for a long time. “You wanna fuck me?” he asked at last. It felt like my dick exploded. He kissed me again and pushed my body off his. Strings of warm cum connected our naked forms together and I was pumping fat fountains all over his muscles before he physically lifted me up and surrounded my spurting cock head with his mouth. I had forgotten what the sensation of Lance sucking my prick was like, the intensity of his desire and the overwhelming nature of his need. I felt immediately fulfilled and finally complete as we connected again. He swallowed my entire cock down his throat, surrounding my hot meat with slick warmth and constricted against me, like his throat was his ass and I was fucking him. I gasped and swooned and started really pumping then! Not the dribbles and spurts of cum I had become accustomed to but really letting my engines rev into the red and gushing with the throttle wide open. I put my hands on his wide, bulging shoulders to balance myself against the feeling that I was going to pass out from the sudden but not unexpected influx of pure overwhelming sexual bliss and waited for his growth to begin again. My load was huge and unstoppable, pouring into his body now that he allowed it, and he gulped and swallowed with eager enthusiasm. He was a Hoover attached to my hose, and I could not push cum inside him fast enough. At first I could not sense anything happening to him. Maybe this was one of those times when nothing would happen, but that seemed weird and impossible since he had not allowed me to feed him my cock in weeks. I had no idea how or why what happened between was happening but it seemed to me that after neglecting his need for so long, his body would be hungry to swell with fresh muscle. He pushed me off him, shoving my hips away from his face and my cock popped out of his mouth, still erupting its huge load, and he threw himself around on the bed, nearly sending me flying, and shoved his ass in my face. Fuck, he was hot! The smell of him, of his intense need and overwhelming sexual desire rose like a gorgeous perfume that stung my senses and nearly made my eyes water. It was like a fog of pure fuck rose from his hole and pulled me towards him, and I grabbed my throbbing, spurting, rock-hard dick in both hands, pointed the exploding mouth at his ass and shoved myself home. He groaned with pure pleasure, an animal, feral sound that shook me and started bucking against me, making me fuck his ass rather than waiting for me to start. He needed this as much as I did - maybe even more! Fuck, I knew how much I ached for this, but now it seemed that my own neglected desire was a flickering light before the shining, overheated sun of Lance’s absolute need to be fucked by my magic monster prick. My eyes rolled up in their sockets and my body shook and all I could do was stand there as he shifted and bucked before me, fucking his ass against my massive cock as my uncontrollable eruption of hot cum filled him up inside. Oh my God, his ass. His wonderful, beautiful, gorgeous and amazing ass. How had I forgotten this feeling, my cock inside his wet warmth, surrounded by perfection, stroking every inch of my hard meat with a million tiny fingers that sent violent, nearly uncontrolled spasms of pure, raw sex along my whole magnificent prick. I felt hot and hard again, and like I was swelling with new inches and pumping literal ropes of cum inside him. My balls were hot and swollen and unstoppable. I took his narrow hips in my hands and started to fuck him as he fucked me, and the sensation of pure sex redoubled. How could I even stand this bliss? How was I not driven crazy from pleasure? No man on Earth could withstand this perfect heavenly sustained sensation of absolute physical ecstasy. “Fuck me,” he growled, he begged, he ordered, he pleaded, shoving the bulging muscled mounds of his perfect ass at me, surrounding my meat with his velvet vise. “Fuck me hard!” It was a shout from God. It was a command to be obeyed. It was an undeniable and uncontrollable requirement. Yes. Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Fuck me bigger. Fuck me with power and might and beauty unmatched. Fuck this god of sex and perfection. Make me grow!