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Wow, thanks everyone. Part Two Gus grabbed Tyler by the pubic hair and told him to get up off the floor as if he was going to pull on the mass of hair if necessary. Tyler arose as commanded. The long, sturdy coffee table creaked a little as Gus carefully seated him on it and looked him over. Tyler's handsome, masculine face was full of yearning. His eyes were hopeful and perhaps remorseful. His mouth hung open as he panted. His broad shoulders were the outset of a big, heaving chest like a mountain range covered in a thick forest of dark hair that begged to be ruffled and stroked. Two plump nipples rose from them like summits that needed to be conquered. His biceps were as large as Gus's head. The athlete's balls hung off the table like two grapefruit in a small bag. His long and girthy penis was still erect and throbbing against his body. If this was any other man, Gus would have ejaculated by now---a part of him was indeed very turned on---but this was Tyler. "Let's recap," Gus cupped one of the quarterback's balls with his hand. "You make my life hell for years, get a full scholarship at the school I feared I wouldn't be able to attend, and never apologized or showed any sign of growth or maturity as a decent human being until now...and only because you have reached a moment of desperation. You need me to give you an orgasm? What makes you think I should give you anything more than the time of day?" Tyler remained silent with his eyes closed as his erection wilted and became increasingly soft. He could only lower his head and mumble something. Gus gave his testicle a little squeeze and a slight slap. "Look at me and answer!" Gus barked as Tyler winced. "I...I need you, Gus!" Tyler frowned. "I'm sorry. I really am. I don't know what else I can do....you're all I think about. I want to make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you." Gus ran his hands through Tyler's thick chest hair, feeling the contours of the thick, strong muscles underneath. Tyler's lips quivered as Gus traveled up and down his stomach and taking a firm grasp of his pecs. His fingers found their home at his nipples. He circled them, like sharks on the hunt. He pinched them, slowly twisting them. Tyler lifted his head and moaned loudly, locking eyes with Gus, as he became erect again. "Let's try this again," Gus took hold of the athlete's hand and brought it to the enlarged penis, guiding its strokes. "You want to make it up to me? Good. I'd like to see you try. I'm not going to just give you an orgasm. As far as I'm concerned, you don't deserve one, but I think I'll enjoy seeing you try to earn one." Gus got up, leaving the hulking football player to ruin another orgasm. Tyler found this one to be even more frustrating and intoxicating. He felt he was so close! Gus was right there; he even touched his body in ways like in his dreams! Tyler was now convinced more than ever that Gus held the key to his relief. He couldn't just pleasure himself in front of Gus. It was like Gus had to say a magic word to release him from this sexual bondage. Gus picked up the ice packets that had been dropped on the floor earlier, and threw them in the trash. Tyler whimpered as he dribbled. His refractory period was almost instantaneous. He was no less horny and still in need. "Clean that up." Gus tossed him a roll of paper towels. "Y-yes, sir. Sorry, sir." "You're welcome to leave anytime you wish...but so long you need me for an orgasm, you are mine." "Yes, sir." "I will start by having you clean the apartment. Those muscles should be big enough to move appliances and mop." Tyler was devoted to cleaning that apartment. He swept, mopped, dusted, polished, and scrubbed. He even did things Gus didn't think to ask for, like cleaning the lint out of the dryer's filter. Every nook and cranny was spotless. Gus had finished reading the last chapter of his textbook when Tyler was finishing up the kitchen counters. After a full inspection and account, Gus didn't want to admit he was impressed. The place looked better than the model apartment they used to show potential renters. Tyler's muscles were strong enough to scrub out some of most stubborn of stains that Gus had resigned himself to just living with. Tyler had worked up a sweat that matted the hair covering his body. His bulging muscles glistened and gleamed as his chest heaved up and down. Gus tried to hide how much the athlete's masculine aroma aroused him. That good physique was definitely more than just show. "It's a start," Gus handed him his cell phone from where it had fallen with the bedspread earlier. "I don't recall seeing you at the gym, so I assume you have your own set of weights?" "Yes sir." "Call your roommate and tell him to bring them here. You live here now, but you need him to bring your weights since you will be soaking your 'hurt foot' in the bath." Tyler did as he was told. When the roommate asked about his clothes and other things, Gus shook his head. Tyler told his roommate he'd only need the weights at the moment. With the call concluded, Gus led Tyler to the bath tub and turned on the water. The massive beast of a young man filled the tub and couldn't be fully submerged. Gus took out his phone and took several pictures. "In the locker room, when I was my most vulnerable and insecure, you and your friends put a spotlight on me." "I'm sorry. Take as many pictures as you like. I prefer you not post them anywhere, but...if you must." The mere sight of Gus turned Tyler on. Sitting in warm water and being lathered up by his hand made it even worse. Unlike Gus, Tyler's arousal was naked for the world to see as every contour was explored with with a warm, soapy washcloth. Gus, at the very, least could hide his arousal in his jeans. Gus took his time and before his own penis would betray him, there was a knock at the door. Tyler's now-former roommate arrived to drop off his weights. There were a lot of them and they had to set them up wherever there was room. Gus thanked him on behalf of Tyler, explaining that he was busy at the moment. Gus cooked dinner while Tyler lifted the weights. He needed to challenge his already remarkable muscles. With as much as his penis and balls were screaming out to him, he we going to need a more intense workout. Between cleaning, exercising, and the smell of the food cooking, Tyler was building up an appetite. When it was ready, Gus asked him if he was hungry. "Starving." "Lay down on the coffee table on your back." "Yes, sir." Gus walked over and sat down on the couch. He pulled Tyler's erect penis back so he could place the plate of food on the athlete's stomach. The scent of the delicious food filled Tyler's nostrils. Gus ate in silence, with one hand trying to hold the enlarged penis firmly back so it did not tip the plate over. Between bites, Gus would occasionally play with the quarterback's large, sensitive nipples. Tyler's stomach growled and his penis begged the entire time. "There were many times when the school's "free or reduced lunch" program provided my only meal for the day, Tyler." "I-I didn't know that." "Because of my size and weight, right?" "I'm sorry." "So, you can imagine how I felt when a bunch of football players would grab my lunch, toss it in the trash, and say I didn't need it....that I should lose weight...that I had eaten plenty already. The school lunch had vegetables, fruit, and lean meats. On those days, I instead had to manage to get by on whatever junk food I could get my hands on." "I'm sorry. Truly, I am." "I think you can get by tonight without something to eat." Gus put his plate in the sink and walked back over to where Tyler continued to lay on his back. He traced his fingers around the athlete's hulking muscles and teased his enlarged nipples and penis again. Then he gave Tyler's swollen balls another slap that made Tyler wince again and moan. As Gus walked towards his bedroom to retire for the night, he smirked and said "I look forward to how you are going to try to earn your orgasm tomorrow..."

Next episode coming on Wednesday

Re-editing.

Since all criminal organizations ceased to exist, petty crimes became an increasing unsolvable problem. Dad and his personal task force sent more people to prisons than ever before in history, and now all other nations, even Russia, were willing to accept his divine intervention to solve their own problems. With that, bureaucracy and paper work increased exponentially as his powers. For more formidable his powers were, dad couldn’t be in two places at once and shit was always happening. Also surely, his godlike powers wouldn’t change human behavior. The economy was bad and bad behavior was spiking again, at least since dad started to bring justice for all. At a long red table with dozens of nobel prize scientists and analysts, wall street attorneys, bankers and some of the wealthiest people in the planet, they sat with me all too anxious or nervous for not having a single positive report to give him. He was also three hours late, we had no clue when he might appear, increasing the apprehension. My seat was beside George Mills, an Oil Tycoon, arguably the richest man in that table, four-comma club, looking at his watch and answering messages repeatedly ‘god is not here yet’ he typed, he seemed to be on the edge with sweat falling down his crooked nose. ‘Where the fuck he is? Taking a tan?’ In spite, he cracked his phone on the table. Everyone stop to look at him, after the silence after his rage, he apologized, even if dad wasn’t there to hear. Actually, and that’s the thing: dad was taking a tan. Dad also couldn’t hear us since he is in space… taking a tan. It usually took an hour for him to reach the Sun and come back. Lately, he could travel faster, his velocity record was 1/4 of the speed of light, ‘the equivalent of 1000 tons of rocket fuel’, the scientist said in wonder to me. Lately dad was spending more time there hovering our home star, sucking it, as if his batteries grew as much as his herculean proud pectorals. When he had Superman levels, and a Superman-level physique, Sun’s light over a day would only give him a small surplus for more heavy-duty feats, like lifting a building or to impede an ocean liner from sinking. Little by little, the ability of absorbing pure energy from the Sun started to grow together with him. Closer and closer of the Sun he went, which the output per inch raise exponentially as you come closer. Now he baths in the giants waves of plasma hitting his massively huge torso like a water park. Wandering my eyes to outside, at the seven-stars hotel’s Versailles-like garden and the blue sky above it, I noticed the sunlight to flick, yes… the whole sky seemed to flick like a bad fluorescent bulb. With my mouth went wide open as I walked to the terrace where I could see the press and the big crowd behind the gates and the cops, also looking up at the sky empty of clouds, all scared and asking each other of what we saw, the cops included. There was no clouds, or planes, or anything. Just the perfect blue sky… and then it happened again, more intensely, like complete darkness… our eyes couldn’t adjust fast enough, looking at the far horizon domes of dark engulfed it all. Like everyone else, started to search answers over the internet, the side of the hemisphere noticed the Sun’s light abrupt oscillation, many entering in panic that our Sun exploded or something. People sent twitters with photos of record-breaking auroras in the artic, the whole planet stop to understand what dad’s tan was becoming to be. Of course, at that moment, all astronomers pointed their instruments to the Sun, including amateurs and people with pinhole projectors to see eclipses, the internet flood with pictures, and everyone could recognize the muscular outline blocking the sunlight, we all could recognize his torso blocking the light. They were estimating that dad, from his position between the star and Earth, was of the size of Manhattan, increasing by a kilometer from his last record in his size-shifting power. Which this… it also meant he was naked. His second-skin uniform could stretch only up to four times his current size, it was a power he avoided to use in public. Not that would stop leaking pictures… And of course, he must know people were watching. I bet that there was the gigantic bone out there. Like a bodybuilder in heat, he flexed the classics, his traps, doing crabs. All inhibition and humility had vanished like dust in the wind, “deal with it”, was what dad said to the critics that his body was becoming too obscene for public display, and anything that weren’t shiny spandex looked wrong on him. TV news tried to avoid to show his body at family’s dinner time, just his neck and shoulder would emasculate most male viewers, or making them to sigh uncomfortably. Every guy I knew was super-gay for dad, they couldn’t hide it anymore. Then, satellites photos from space started to emerge, dad’s left bicep projected a diffuse shadow that covered most of North America. The earth stood still trying to comprehend such hyper-power. Of course, in the red table the breaking news all over TV and Internet just made them all to feel smaller. He could destroy everything by just slamming his body over the planet, to tear out the atmosphere just with his breath. We were all at his mercy, and no wanted Derek Armstrong to be unhappy. Still, dad hated sycophants. It was struggling difficult for most people to come up to talk with him, dad wanted people that defied his opinions, and it was increasingly rare; he hated weak, subservient yes men that populated every place he went. Dad always listened to the Devil’s advocate. I was actually surprised of his tolerance over the people and blogs that constantly criticized his actions. After a while, he stopped his posing and vanished from the screens, the show was over, I guessed, but some ten minutes later, some astronomers found ionized disturbances in Venus atmosphere, as if half of the planet was catching fire. An european probe space mission orbiting Venus was able to take pictures of the event, explosions of thousands of nukes being deployed in jet streams of white-purple hot energy, which I could identify immediately as dad’s heat vision. ‘Is that him?’ A scientist asked me, not believing on such power magnitude dad was showing to the universe. ‘Soon, our star won’t be enough for him’. I said to him. Ever since dad went out to space to take a tan, his muscles would come back pumped, veiny, and his eyes shining white from the overcharge. His patience would drop to absolute zero in this state, his mood would swing like an axe pendulum, he would become restless and impulsive until the overcharge was absorbed or spent. It could last hours or days, everyone avoided his path, including me. No one touched yet the food. No one had the stomach, it was a bad decision to make a meeting just after his tan. An hour later, we heard his signature sonic boom making the ground to vibrate. Everyone looked up at the sky again and there was dad hovering over the pebbles, they all holding their phones to capture the moment of his 8’7 monument of muscularity slowly approaching them, letting them see his last upgrade, more mass, more power. Even the burly men eyed up at him like shy schoolgirls. He was measured 8’4 before this last tan. While he had attained size-shifting powers, dad couldn’t stay smaller than this new plateau, and now, by absorbing energy directly from the Sun in larger and larger straws, he was growing like ever before. I could see that he was wearing the latest skintight armor uniform. The new one had an irradiance purple-blue effect that you see in butterflies and some exotic fishes, designed to give a shimmering contrast to the smallest muscle and making any bulge to shine and sparkle. Nowadays, he had no shame at all of his absurd unattainable muscularity, he had the confidence of a peacock. “Sorry for the disturbance, citizens. I can assure you that our Sun is fine,” he said with his powerful voice for all to listen, his thunderous voice seemed to come from all sides. Then, from half a mile away, he turned and gave me a paternal wink. I just waved my hand as usual. Sometimes I think he does that only to show that he always has his eyes on me... and those eyes were shining like lighthouses, the solar power overcharging his body leaking like holes in a dam. Before I could react, in a bursting blast of wind he was here, in front of us in the terrace, bigger than ever before; everyone went suddenly dead silent, I could hear a pin if it fell on the floor. Dad had no time to spare on dumbfoundedness, “So, shall we begin?” He walked inside to the red table and we all followed his ass, I mean, his steps. Like anyone else at the table, I avoided to bring any issue about his beaming glowing eyes, it was super-menacing. Yet, his warm smile and perfect white teeth left the people somewhat at ease. Everyone using ties but dad, he had a leotard. People concentrated on the task at hand but mostly they found themselves speaking to his loaf sized pecs; seated they had them at their eyes level, but besides that, his pecs dominated his chest nowadays, they were so proportionally larger, wider and heavier than the rest of his immensity, that were ludicrously distracting. To add to injury, those huge pecs didn’t rest… it was not only their size and shape, they seemed to have a life of themselves and manifested spontaneously, when he shifted his position, or thought of something funny they would bounce inadvertently. The bigger he got them, more bouncing mass, they flexed in greater fashion, he could not move a finger without a reaction from them. At times, he played with people’s senses by flexing them, removing them out of their trance, or making their eyes to follow his pectorals to jump side to side, like a tennis game. He has been doing this with guys as well… which was super awkward. He thought that this would be a good lesson to make people more respectful of his body. “We have a lot to talk today… but I will let you to talk first. You seem pretty nervous to me.” Dad said as the wise super-giant-hero he was. A hot executive, all flushed and probably all wet down there, was at his right and nervously started to read the briefing of recent developments. 'Since the last reunion of the FATE committee, the general unemployment grew…' 'Wait.' I asked to stop, since no one was asking. All eyes turned to me; I was the fiftieth guy in the row from dad’s right side of the table. 'Dad, we just need to know, did you do something with Venus?' He laughed, “Did you guys saw that?” 'Some people reported that saw Venus flashing like a star, and then a space mission around the planet took some photos… tsunamis of fire and plasma backed half of that planet.' “Yeah… it was blast.” He said while stretching his arms, his muscles lazily dancing around and eclipsing each other, “I couldn’t come back in that state to Earth. It was more power than I could handle, I didn’t want to devastate humanity with a sneeze.” He let tiny arcs of energy to flow between his fingers. “I need more size to control it better...” He said closing his fist and bringing his battleship of a bicep into a peak, while we all gulped in unison. Of course, no one brought the issue that he could dump all that energy into deep space instead of barbecuing one of the few planets we had. “Since you already brought it, I might have the most remarkable event to report.” He stood up, our necks bent to follow his pecs, I mean, his face. “Perhaps the most important event of all humanity… after me and my powers, of course…” The bootlickers laughed at his half-true dad-joke, he rested his hands over the table, his shoulders and arms so wide that overshadowed the two hot execs by his sides, giving us all a new perspective of pecs. “I might have encountered extra-terrestrial intelligence watching us.” ‘Oh, God’ was the default answer. “Yep.” He said. “Sometimes having such a good vision has some drawbacks. I can see more stars and galaxies than the Hubble telescope, and because of this it was hard to focus of such small speck of deflective light thousands of miles away. Probably they thought that I couldn’t see them running away from me.” ‘Did they see what you did to Venus?’ I asked, I was the only one there to have balls to make questions. “Surely. That was how I discovered them. Whatever it was, they were scared, running like a rabbit. So most undoubtedly I… we can terminate it, if it is a threat.” ‘You did noticed something before, didn’t you?’ I asked him. “Yes, on my trips to the Sun to recharge my powers, I usually blast some steam before returning Earth, like chasing city-sized asteroids and pulverizing them so they are not a hazard to the planet anymore. I should film for you guys, it is quite a fireworks show. Anyway, I saw something like an UFO before, but this time I have no more doubts. There is life out there. We need to tell the people.” Dad said, and it was the right thing to do. This information shouldn’t be under secret. ‘Do you think there is a chance that they are benign?’ “I can’t tell. They might be… but possibly are just like us, with good apples and bad apples.” ‘There is any chance that your actions out there might have attracted them here?’ One of his pecs flexed involuntarily, “Yes… there is a chance.” ‘Shit… dad… if they are bad apples, people will blame you for bringing them here.’ “Shit.” He said in realization. “You are right, son. Let’s leave it under secret until we have more information. Under regulation 3-O-5, I have the Congressional authority to terminate anyone accountable for leaking FATE strategic affairs… so mouths shut.” Suddenly, the general unemployment became a petty problem.

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I contacted Welshy because I love writing stories for folks that in my mind, look like superheroes. I hope you all enjoy my attempt at fun, and creating the first chapter in a possible series on the stories of Welshy, earth’s newest guardian. Please note his youtube page listed below, and enjoy the first chapter. Thanks! @Welshy Welshy’s Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCcrbXKpPGI7GVmRFLszRflw Chapter 1 It was just after midnight when Anthony swung through the glass doors of his gym. He’d spent the past few hours working tirelessly, as he did every evening, perfecting his body. The past few years had seen phenomenal progress for a man just shy of twenty-five. Standing at five feet nine, and well over two hundred pounds, the young bodybuilder was already admired for his physique in his local gym, though he craved to be bigger and better than anyone. He helped train others and spent hours perfecting their form, as he loved the feeling of helping them create the best versions of themselves. On that warm August evening, he turned the ignition to his car, a small white sedan, and made his way onto the highway. Just outside of Cardiff and ambling along, he did his best to find something to listen to on the radio. After a few songs played, a weird static buzz sounded, followed by an emergency signal. He’d never quite heard anything like it, and the sound made him move to pull over along the side of the road. It was a high-pitched beep that mixed with the static. He glanced out each window. The road was dark, trees on either side, with a cloudy sky obscuring part of the moon above. Just as he moved to turn off the radio, a green flash of light streaked across the sky. There was a great burst of green and red flame above him—but strangely, no sound—and he watched as a disc shaped object plummeted. His heart raced watching the object tumble downward. He covered his eyes as the object crashed not five hundred yards from where he sat. Smashing through trees and hurtling across the ground, another burst of color filled the air, and he held onto the steering wheel to brace for impact from the explosion that followed. But the shockwave didn’t rattle his car or burst his windows; in fact, upon opening his eyes he saw only that the world around him was bathed in a strange green light. The object was clearer now, a spherical ship with an outer disc, no bigger than a small plane in size. Perhaps fifty feet across, the outer skin of the sphere was a metallic shine not unlike chrome, though the center held a rectangular opening. From here shone the green light, one that streamed out across the side of the road and into the forest. Anthony pondered staying in his car and leaving the mysterious object to be found by the proper authorities. Surely there would be fire engines and police making their way to the scene, followed shortly by the military. Could it have been a wayward experimental craft? But somehow, he was drawn to this strange thing. He couldn’t explain the feeling that coursed across his skin. He felt a warmth across his chest and down to his toes, one that lingered and raised the hair atop the back of his neck. He watched the green light pulse, and without thinking, opened the door to his car. He didn’t remember walking toward the smoldering object, just that he was standing right in front of the door shaped opening. He should’ve resisted, or turned away. Who knew what lay in wait for him inside the strange object. Yet it was as though the thing was calling to him, forcing him to enter into the unknown. Symbols in a language unknown to him traced the black walls of the corridor. Anthony watched them glow in the same color green, his pale face watching the patterns change. His blue eyes gleamed green in the light. He took step after step into the hall, until he emerged into a circular room with a single metallic chair. The walls were black as well, though here there were no symbols, only a pale green light blinking above the chair. He continued forward, and paused for a moment in front of the chair. A part of him wanted to turn and run. This is crazy. What am I doing? His brain was screaming for him to cut and run. He’d seen more than he was supposed to, and who knew what would happen to him if the military did catch him? Or worse, they would take him away forever for discovering something that wasn’t his to find. His heart won the war; he turned and slowly took a seat. Immediately, two metal pieces sprung from the railing of the chair and locked onto his wrists, holding him in place. The silver metal sealed around his skin, and he couldn’t move an inch. His biceps flexed as he scrambled to break free, only to feel a strange warmth flood through his body. Anthony Stingl. Twenty-five. Humanoid. Five feet nine. Two hundred twenty-three pounds. Peak physical condition. Passable guardian. “What?” Anthony heard the sounds from the chamber around him that echoed. The wall in front of him flushed green with every word. “What is this?” This ship has been sent by the guardians to prepare the people of earth for what they are to face. We have failed to contain the sector surrounding your solar system from the Imperials. They have broken through the western defense perimeter—approach of rogue Imperials is imminent. “Rogue what now? Guardians? What are you going on about?” He shrunk back in the chair, his mind spinning. His heart raced at the thought of—outer space? “Is this—are you an alien?” I am not a human. I am an advance pod sent to distribute knowledge and training to a selected lifeform to defend their planet form extraterrestrial attacks. The Guardian Forces work diligently to keep rogue aliens from entering into pre-interstellar spaceflight territory. Unfortunately, our guardians in the outer sectors closest to this solar system were unsuccessful in a recent security breach. “Sounds like someone wasn’t very good at their job.” Anthony smirked. The Imperials are a collective that seeks to sow discord and chaos across the galaxy. Additionally, they harvest energy from selected planets to increase their power. An ambush by Caldar left several of our best warrior’s dead. He has detected the nearest habitable planet and has set a course. “Earth?” In advance of this, we have selected the first available appropriate specimen to train to defend the planet. You have precious little time to be prepared for— “Pod? I can call you pod? They sent you to find me to… train me? To defeat some monster that’s going to destroy earth? And I’m just supposed to say yes and get on with it, no big deal?” Anthony made a face. You may refuse your duty. However, you may wish to see what powers you have been granted. “Powers?” As he spoke, the wristlets detached from the chair. He looked at the glowing green screen and stood. Each guardian is gifted with the power bracers—these that allow you to take in energy to reformat your own body, to give you strength, dexterity, agility, flight. You will learn the tools— “How?” Simply think of strength—imagine yourself, stronger, bigger, larger—hold the energy within yourself. Your bracers will fill you with the power of the guardians. All of it seemed insane, and perhaps a dream. Had he died in the ensuing explosion, or been injured, only to imagine the conversation that was happening with him now? Still, he did feel very much alive, and he wanted to know just what was real from what was fake. He closed his eyes and began to think of his time in the gym. Of getting stronger, straining, of getting bigger, lifting, of all the energy flowing into his body. The hair on the back of his neck stood, and he could feel the energy tingling through his veins. The green glow washed over him, and soon his arms began to thicken, his biceps growing and swelling. His chest pushed outward, becoming more striated and veins popping up across his skin. His quads pushed apart, each tree trunk leg growing, including his calves. His tank top began to strain from the grown of his muscles, his shorts tearing away at the size of his quads. Soon his clothing shredded, littering the floor, leaving a straining pair of briefs in their wake. “Fuck…” He muttered as he felt the energy grown within him. “Fuck yes, give me more!” He threw his head back and could feel he mass swell across his muscles, his back filling out as his body grew. Each ab grew more defined, his oblique’s coming into view underneath his six pack. He wanted nothing more than to see the size fill him, to tap into the energy. It slowed at last when he paused, dizzy from all the growing, his body nearly a hundred fifty pounds heavier. That was an impressive first attempt. You have a natural affinity for connecting with the energy. However, without an agreement as guardian, you will never be able to tap into the true power of the bracers. “Agreement.” Anthony opened his eyes and stared forward. His life was simple; he knew little of what the task ahead entailed, if only that a strange group had asked for his help. He needed to stop Caldar, or whoever it was Pod had mentioned, and perhaps the world. It was all mad and bonkers to him. But—the way his muscles had grown, the size, the power, he only wanted more. He wanted to be the hero, to not only have the superhero’s build, but the title to go with it. “I’ll be a guardian. I swear it. Now—what do I have to do?” It will be painful. You will choose a name for your guardianship. Something reflective of you, your desires, and truths. The energy will fill you to your limit, and then a part of you will be lifted—taken to be saved by the guardians. It will be contained here should you ever need to be reborn. “What about this place? Won’t someone find it if—” As far as anyone knows, this place is just a patch of trees. All the damage that was done is hidden, and cannot be found. A man could come within an inch of the ship and not see a thing. “Welshy. I want to be called Welshy. For my home, my nickname.” So be it. From now on you will be Welshy, defender and guardian of earth. Your energy will be a part of the guardians. I will train you so that you may stop Caldar from destroying your planet and your people. Now. Breathe deeply. This will not be entirely pleasant. Heat fanned out across his body as Anthony stood, bathed in the green light. All of it seemed to be happening so fast. This strange ship was filling him with energy. He could feel it tingle across his chest, then his legs, then arms, even across his back and glutes. He could feel each muscle begin to flex on its own. He grunted, feeling the heat grow in intensity. His pecs striated and he felt his abs becoming larger, thicker, and more cut. His waist seemed to be getting smaller as he grew somewhat taller, thicker. Before long he cast a thick and long shadow, muscles hulking across his frame. He felt an intensity of heat cross his chest, and yelled out as the energy filled him. A ‘W’ emblazoned in blue across his chest as veins crisscrossed over his body. He flexed harder and harder still, until at last, the energy seemed to subside. This is the final trial; your power is nearly at its peak. I will extract a single percent of your ethos to save, in case your powers are overwhelmed. “What?” You may burn through your strength—it is not unlimited. And should you need to ever be recovered, I can use this energy to bring you back and bind to you. It is a precaution. Especially in one so unexperienced. “If you say so.” He felt his muscles begin to twitch as the light flooded over him. He began to grunt and growl as his muscles seemed constricted. He tried to flex but couldn’t feel anything but the heat, the impossible amount of energy flowing through him and over him all at once. An immense pressure that made it hard for him even to breathe. He lifted off the ground, hovering as the light took over him. He stared, eyes wide and open mouthed as a pale gold energy fled from his mouth and gathered in a ball in front of him. After another minute, it formed—muscular and manly, shaping into a version of himself, though less muscled, the same shape as he’d been prior to being flooded into energy. As he faced himself, looking into a golden form of energy with his eyes, nose and mouth, he could scarcely breathe. The colors swirled. He lost consciousness then, the world blackened, and he saw nothing else. Anthony awoke in his bed, eyes fluttering open. Had It all been a dream? But as he stripped away his bedsheets, he saw the two bracers atop his wrists. Stranger still was the small metallic disc upon the small of his back. He placed his left index finger atop it. This piece allows us to be one and communicated though you are not in the ship, Welshy. We can be everywhere together, to train you for what is to come. “I’m having a hard time even processing it.” Anthony rubbed his temples. Being the world’s hero seemed an awful lot for someone that just yesterday was happy just to lift weights and teach others to do the same. We will spend the next few weeks learning to control your power, and to be one with the energy. First, you should stand and call upon your power. He stood from his bed. A mirror on the wall showed his bulky figure. Powerful chest, thick legs, strong arms. You need just say your name, and the power will start to flow through you. “Welshy…” His skin tingled as the energy pulsed through his limbs. He marveled at the sight of his stomach growing more taught, abs appearing and becoming chiseled. His shoulders broadened and thickened, his bicep peaks rising and growing. His legs pushed apart yet again, his glutes tightened. His muscles expanded and swelled outward, dwarfing the man that he had been. Before long he was over three hundred pounds and rivaled any man, who crossed the Olympia stage. He flexed a bicep and then another, smiling at himself in the mirror. A blue ‘W’ emblazoned across his chest, as well as a blue pair of briefs and boots. He supposed they came with the power. Now, we learn to fly. It was his favorite part. Out of his backyard and into the sky, he soared above the cul-de-sac of homes. He wasn’t sure if the neighbors could see—after all, who could mistake the shape of a muscular hero soaring through the air—but part of him hoped they could. He struggled some to get his bearings. The way the wind whipped across his body and the way he needed to angle himself for one. Another was paying attention to pesky pieces of human interference, whether they were powerlines, buildings, or even aircraft from a distance. They spent two afternoons to make sure he could take off and land at full speed. They ended one session with him crashing into an empty lot outside of town, covered in dirt because he hadn’t slowed his massive form quickly enough. “How long did you say we had to train?” He’d said, rubbing the dirt off of his chest. Current projections put Caldar at least seven days away from earth, though no more than ten. There has been no further communication. He relished the ability to grow his strength. They focused first on growing his muscles on command, and maxing out his size. He would start in his normal form, a little past two hundred pounds, and bring his arms above his head in a double bicep pose. He would mutter his new name—Welshy—and at once the power would flood through him. As the ‘W’ began to form across his chest, he would grunt and strain, filling out his back and broadening his shoulders. Muscle would snake across his form, biceps growing from grapefruits to near bowling balls in size, his abs now impossibly cut. His back forming a perfect ‘v’ down to his wait, and legs exploding back outward again with muscle. The sigh of himself in the mirror had him thinking only of the incredible hulk, glistening muscles covered in definition and veins. He could lift thousands of pounds with ease. Heavy steel beams at construction sites were what he lifted now, cars, too. One of his first acts as a hero was to fix a tilting bridge. The media only caught sight of him for a second, but by the morning plenty were questioning who the man with the ‘w’ on his chest was. He made sure the next day to be on the lookout for more trouble, this time finding a set of cars precipitously close to tumbling off the edge of an overpass. He lifted a tractor trailer off onto the road, smile across his face. The local news station got a first-hand interview with the local hero—Welshy—and from then on, they knew they could be safe with such a man flying through the skies. His first brush with evil per say was just a few days later, when a classic hero conundrum occurred: a bank robbery in progress. They had guns of course, but weren’t expecting a shirtless muscular hero to pounce on them. Three masked men held up a set of tellers at gunpoint, only to have Welshy come crashing through the window. They fired their weapons, but here another one of his powers became clear: his muscles were so dense, the bullets that struck him simply clattered to the floor. He took their punches too, each trying their hand to knock against his steel body with their fists. With a laugh, he need just one punch for each to have them on the ground. Anthony sat in the chair of Pod’s ship as the two planned for their next lesson. They had spent the weeks preparing for his battle, though he felt as though there was still so much to learn. He listened to Pod explain that most guardians had years before their first encounter with such a powerful being. You’ve taken well to your lessons, but Caldar is not a basic humanoid. He will seek to destroy you and claim the earth and its power for himself. “You’ve said it yourself, I’m a natural. And with you helping me, I shouldn’t have much to worry about. Your knowledge will help me take him down, my strength will have him on the ropes, and then we’ll do what the other guardians weren’t able to do.” He won’t just be here to conquer the earth. Caldar is on a mission to tap into the energy underneath earth’s core. Several guardians have fallen trying to protect him from sapping planets of their power. “Oh.” Welshy blinked. “What do you mean, ‘sapped?’” Caldar was granted a power by the imperials to manipulate and use energy; he has determined a way of taking that energy from planets and other beings alike. You will see that he has his trophies on his wrists—evidence of the guardians that have failed. He takes their power when they have been defeated. It all had seemed much less real up until the mention of the defeated guardians. Welshy stared down at his wrists and wondered just how much power he had been given. If you are to fail, he will attempt to take your power from you, and then your wristlets. They can only be taken when all of your life force is extinguished. The bracers will unlock and he’ll be able to take them to use as his own. However—once you have completed your training, you will be able to grow your power beyond what he has… through another item not given to most guardians. “What? What are you…” A small cube sprung up from the floor. The box opened to reveal a ring large enough to fit around his forehead. “Why don’t I just use it now?” Those that are unable to tap into its true power may be overwhelmed. It is highly dangerous for an unskilled guardian. The power contained my cause you to burst into flames. “Yikes. Well—I suppose we have a few more lessons before…” The room suddenly glowed green, and Welshy closed his eyes. There is a disturbance in the sky, northward. It appears that Caldar may have entered into the atmosphere. I am putting a visual for you. Streaking across the sky was a creature that appeared humanoid: a similar face with black hair, and black eyes. His body was gargantuan in musculature, rivaling even Welshy’s. But where a normal man had one arm, this creature had four. He wore a black set of briefs and boots, and a determined look upon his face. Welshy felt a chill run through his body. “Right. What do we do now?” We should engage him prior to him finding our location now. He is seeking the strongest signal of energy on earth at the moment—which would be coming from your bracers. When he has found you, he will be ruthless in attempting to wear down your power to destroy you. You have to weaken him until I can be certain your bracers can be used to blast him with their energy. A concentrated blast at his weakest point will eliminate him and his power. “Let’s get this show on the road then.” Welshy flexed his pecs and grinned. He took off running toward the door, and leapt into the sky. He could feel himself straighten in the air, half guided by his training, half by his connection with Pod. He felt a quiet reassurance with the alien android making sure to correct any of his movements. The power grid has been deactivated. His presence is detected at the power plant not far from the northwest corner of town. He was hard to miss, even in the darkness. Caldar’s massive frame was an alabaster shade in the moonlight, his figure hunched over a set of generators he seemed to be feasting on. Welshy could see through the glimmer of sparks and electricity that there was a set of bracers on each of his four wrists; fallen guardians that had failed to take on this creature. He marveled at his massive back and the way his muscles seemed to twitch and grow with every ounce of power he took. “Excuse me, but you’re going to have to pay for some of that.” Welshy said, hovering just a few feet above. He crossed his arms across his chest. Caldar turned slowly, and locked eyes with the hero. “A guardian. How delicious. Have you come to stop me before I lay waste to your pathetic planet?” He grinned. “I was just getting ready to begin charging up to burrow down to your planet’s core—what is it called, earth? Not quite the same amount of energy as some of the other places I’ve been, but I’m sure it will be just as sweet.” “You won’t be getting much further here. I’ve come to put a stop to you.” “Yes—the guardians have granted earthlings their first guard. I heard of this. Unorthodox, with as backward as this planet appears. But no matter. It will not exist for much longer. I suggest you agree to join me now or face the same fate as your colleagues.” Welshy shook his head. “You leave me no choice, Caldar—in the name of the guardians, and me, Welshy,” He grinned. “I’m going to make sure you’re finished.” With this he grunted, and called into his power. Ballooning in strength again, his muscles expanded, pushing past the size of Caldar and adding thickness to his legs and chest. He sneered as he hovered, his bodying bathed in a pale green light as his muscles expanded and the power filled him. With a final double bicep flex he stood, power coursing through him. Caldar wasted no time moving in on him, leaping into the air. He swung one fist at Welshy, then another, and then another. Each time the hero dodge and weaved, then held up his fists to block a blow. He could feel the subtle corrections by Pod, and stayed in rhythm with him. The villain swung hard and knocked his arms apart, only to lay a hard blow on his waiting stomach. Startled, Welshy grunted, but his abs held. This only had Caldar grow angrier—he grunted and threw his own head back, pulling more power into himself and growing in size. Three hundred plus pounds and ripped with muscle, he surged forward and looked to lay more blows on the hero. He knocked his left pec then right, and another blow hit his stomach. But Welshy swung back this time, connecting across the villain’s face. He worked to jab at the alien’s chest, though his four arms made it difficult to land a blow. Instead of focusing on hand to hand, when he saw an opening, he swept his leg across, only to connect with the villain’s exposed abs. He sent Caldar spiraling backward, smacking him into a waiting transformer with a shower of sparks. Welshy hovered above him in the air and flexed a bicep in a taunt. “How is such a pathetically novice recruit daring to take me on?” Caldar wiped a hand across his face and shook his head. “You are not a great warrior. You are a child. One that has barely learned to fight and now uses my own strength against me?” His voice grew louder and he stood, flexing his muscles yet again. Welshy dropped his arms to his sides, curious. “Well perhaps earthlings are more surprising that you thought, Caldar?” He grinned. Enraged, the villain was bathed in a red glow. He launched himself off the ground and moved to wrap two of his arms around the hero. He easily wrapped around his waist, and used the other two arms to lay blows across Welshy’s face. He scrambled, not expecting the sudden burst of power. Welshy. You must retreat—his power is far greater than we could have feared. You should return so that we— Welshy grunted, ignoring pod’s voice in his head. It seemed to fade as he drew in more power, this time flexing his biceps to break free of Caldar’s hold. His arms swelled again, and he could feel the villain straining, until at last he burst free from his hold. Caldar was forced backward, while Welshy flexed in a most muscular pose, triumphant. Caldar grinned. In his fingers, he held the small silver disc that had been atop Welshy’s back, giving him connection to Pod. Welshy moved to grasped it, but the villain vaporized the disc in his hands. “Your guide will not be assisting you, hero. Now we will battle man to man, and see who is superior. Unless you are afraid.” Welshy tried to listen, to see if Pod could still communicate. He wasn’t sure if he should retreat—would he just be leading Caldar back to the ship, so that he could finish off Welshy and gain power over the guardians? Was he truly as strong as they thought? He seemed to be taking Welshy’s blows but he did not seem invincible. He gritted his teeth and shook his head. “I’m not afraid of you, Caldar. I am the guardian of Earth, and this is the end of the line for you!” He moved to swing a fist and lurched forward, but was to slow. His next blow missed as well, and then an uppercut sailed through air. Caldar was easily dodging him, and went so far as to laugh at his attempts. The villain struck back with a blow to his stomach, and then another to his chest, and then both fists to his back. He knocked Welshy this way and that way, his fists hitting his body and striking right through his muscle armor. Welshy coughed as he struggled to regain his composure, but each time he brought up his fists to block, Caldar seemed two steps ahead, laying blows where he couldn’t anticipate them. He lay three successive blows to his face, and sent Welshy spiraling backward. “Is this all you have, hero? Just a pathetic creature that thought he could play hero because of what he’d been given…” Caldar put two of his hands on his waist. “Give in now and you won’t be destroyed.” Welshy shook his head. He knew he had to dig deep, to overwhelm Caldar with his strength. If he could knock him out, or overpower him, at the least he could get away. He closed his eyes and focused. Energy flooded him, his bracers glowing green. His chest grew thicker still, his quads now gigantic and glutes tight as ever. His form swelled outward, and he dwarfed Caldar in size. His muscles were nothing but sinew and strength, the ‘W’ thick upon his chest. He stared down the villain with a new fire in his eyes. “I am the guardian of earth, and I surrender to no one!” He flew forward, arm pulled back behind his head, and he swung a powerful blow. Caldar danced around him, causing the massive form of the hero to slide forward. He was powerful, but too big to be agile. He was slow to correct his turn. By the time he faced Caldar, the villain lay three blows across his stomach, and another across his chest. He peppered him with his fists, sending his massive form this way and that way, until at last two of his arms wrapped the hero’s in a hold to pull his arms back, while the others wrapped around his neck. Welshy gasped, struggling. He tried to call on more power, but to his shock, felt nothing from his bracers. He had tapped into everything he’d had. “Ah—yes. The limit of a guardian’s power. Your precious guide did not tell you what happens to the heroes that don’t submit to us imperials. You see, first I defeat you. Then, I take the power of the guardian for my own… and once I have all of it, and your essence, I can connect with the planet to sap it of its energy. You see, defeating you was the first thing I needed. And now… I’ll show you what happens for your pathetic display…” Welshy’s eyes grew wide as he felt the villain hold him closer. His muscular back pressed closer to Caldar’s front, and he could feel the villain’s bracers on each arm closer to his own. Suddenly he felt tired—unable to even so much as moved. Then he felt something worse—the pull of energy from him into Caldar. He did his best to struggle, to flex his muscles and keep them filled with power, but as their two bodies hovered close to one another, energy jumped from Welshy to the villain. He grunted as he felt the drain sap his power, and stared down at his bracers, watching as the pale green energy flooded into those on Caldar’s wrists. He cried out, attempting to fight it, but the villain’s hold was too strong, even as muscular as he was. The minutes passed and he felt the heat rushing through his body, all of his muscles flexing in a pulse of energy from him to Caldar. The villain laughed as the energy slowed to a crackle. He released Welshy from his hold and let his body tumble down to the earth. Landing with a heavy thud against pavement and cracking it, Welshy moaned. He struggled to stand, his body feeling too heavy for even his legs. He was still a massive form, though Welshy wondered just what he had left. The villain landed in a blink of an eye right in front of him. “Go ahead. Call on the last of your power, Welshy. Fight the good fight. You could simply kneel to me and you could become a part of the imperials. Or—you will fail…” Welshy’s felt the sweat dripping down his forehead and down his chest. He took a deep breath, then another. He had no doubt about the evil he was facing. Perhaps there was still hope—perhaps if he could just tap into whatever limited potential remained, he’d find a way to defeat Caldar. With a final grunt, then a roar, Welshy moved to throw his arms above his head in a double bicep pose. He felt the energy flood him again, his massive body growing green. Caldar mirrored him with a sneer, and let out his own roar. Their energies seemed to connect, red with green. Welshy struggled and fought, pushing back at first, until he could bear it no longer. The red pushed past and flooded over him. He gasped as he felt the air leave his lungs. His arms dropped down to his sides, and he dropped to his knees. Eyes wide, he felt the energy being pulled from deep inside of him, up and out of his form. He watched as a copy of himself formed in the air above him, muscular and powerful, thicker and thicker, until at last—the form threw its hands up in front of his face. A blinding green light filled the area. As the light faded, Caldar stood, still flexing. The energy receded into him like smoke through the air, and he let out a sigh as it filled his chest. He stepped forward slowly. At his feet, open mouthed and eyes wide, Anthony’s body was on its back, his defeated form was nearly unrecognizable. Even the muscle he’d had prior to becoming a guardian seemed gone—he was thin, undefined. His arms lay outward, and Caldar moved to place hands over each wristlet. As he moved to do so, each bracer snapped open at his touch. Caldar smirked as he moved to place one of Welshy’s bracers on one wrist, then another. Within a moment, he took to the sky, leaving only the defeated form of earth’s guardian behind. To Be Continued.

Hey bros, yeah I’ve tried the hypnosis thing for a while. Guess I got good results from it. But it did start messing with me a bit. Was having kinda trouble reconciling normal life with wanting to just quit everything I was doing and just be a muscle head. Granted it’s a cool fantasy, but when you start actually making it a reality things just get complicated. If I had some bros with me who were also into it maybe it would have been easier and I’d be in a different place right now. but even without the hypno, I find the best thing for me is just to meat as many serious lifters and bodybuilders as possible in my area and lift with em and hang out with em. And then just let what happens happen. im definitely more laid back and socially comfortable than I started out years ago. And I think a lot of it is surrounding yourself with the people you wanna be like. i guess I’m smart enough as I need to be, but I don’t feel that brainy anymore. And I’ve even gotten the reputation of being more of a meathead and bro at work and among my friends. Life is good.

wow so good to see you post another chapter after all this time!!! glad to have the sexploits of casey and the other huge muscle giants back great writing as always joey, hope we dont have to waitquite as long for more chapters of this hot story!!

This is an insanely hot story.

Was hoping we would get to see part 3 soon! Can't wait, super excited to see where this goes next!

What Stuart then said to Mr Golden Posers was even more incredible and unexpected. “Do you wanna hit some poses for the camera?” OH MY FUCKING FUCK!! Mr Golden Posers gave a casual nod of acceptance, like he’d just been asked the most normal thing in the world, which I quickly realised in this situation, probably was. Not quite believing what was unfolding before my eyes for about the forty-fifth time that day, I braced myself to witness a devastatingly cute, rock hard, competition conditioned bodybuilder cranking out random poses and flexing his freshly pumped muscles right into the lens of the camera I was eagerly staring down. I had no idea something even more amazing and surreal was about to happen. Just when I thought Stuart couldn’t possibly have said anything more unexpectedly bonkers and inexplicably awesome, he proved me wrong. “Ok, why don’t you hit…” HOLY SWEET FUCKING JESUS!! He’s not. He can’t be… “…a front lat spread?” FUCK FUCK FUUUUUUUCKKK!! Yep, this is happening. This is actually fucking happening. Stuart Fox was calling out the poses. Before my head had a chance to explode over the pump room floor, Mr Golden Posers was wrapping his thumbs and fingers under each of the thin straps of his remarkably hot trunks and, while pursing his lips in concentration, he yanked both straps up, and straightened himself up into a front lat spread. His pumped little lats spread out like wings under his completely hairless armpits as he stared directly down the camera I was holding. For a second time since I’d started filming, it felt like this hot little muscle freak was posing and flexing his beautifully carved out muscles just for me. I suddenly had the urge to get down on both knees and look up to see this magnificent mountain of hard, tight, thinly skinned muscle looking down on me. Seeing that pointy bulge in the crotch of those brilliantly coloured posing trunks sticking out, drawing my mouth towards the golden covered bulge and - “Let’s see a front double bicep!” FUCKING FUCK YEAH!! As the tiny straps of his trunks snapped back down into place, Mr Golden Posers relaxed from his front lat spread with a small exhaling sound, then, pursing his lips once again in an arrogant and unspeakably hot manner, he bought both of his arms up either side of his head and cranked them back down into a front double bicep. Before my mind had chance to slip into another fantasy, Stuart’s hand was suddenly on my back and he was giving me instructions. “Charlie, get closer!” A jolt of panic shot through me, and before I knew what was happening, Stuart Fox was giving me a gentle push towards the flexing, hard bodied, pocket rocket of unutterably hot muscle before me until I was literally standing about two feet away from his body. My camera closed in on those impressively pumped, rock hard-to-the-touch, croquet ball shaped biceps erupting as he flexed harder and harder. He was holding the pose for what seemed like ages, his lips pursing even more, as he turned his head from side to side to get a look at his own incredible flexed guns. Being stood so close to this ripped up muscle dude, I could not only feel the heat coming from his hard body, I could also smell the scent exuding from it. An extremely hot and masculine mix of aftershave, something sweet and cosmetic-like which I presumed to be the smell of his competition tan, and his natural body scent. He didn’t seem to want to let up from the front double bicep pose. Flexing and flexing, showing off his huge, hard, impossibly pumped guns. As I looked at his sexy little face contorting with sheer effort, I suddenly noticed tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead and cheeks. He was squeezing out every last inch of this bicep pose, and as my attention returned to those mounds of magnificently flexed, granite hard muscle, I suddenly wanted nothing more than to reach out and squeeze them. He was clearly proud of his abnormally big biceps, and was loving every single second of showing them off to Stuart and I. What was the betting that he’d love to have some hands on them? Feeling, squeezing and fondling the fuck out of every single inch of his massive, freaky peaks? I couldn’t attend to both at the same time though, so I’d probably have to have a bit of assistance. My mind then spiralled to the image of me with my mouth wrapped around his right granite hard bicep, kissing and making out with the muscle as it bulged underneath that cling wrap skin. Then looking over and seeing Stuart Fox doing the exact thing with his left bicep. Two muscle mad mates worshipping the fuck out of a pint sized, tight as fuck, ripped up muscle cutie. Locking eyes with each other and lingering for a moment, both thinking the exact same thing. “Are we in heaven, mate?? I think we might just fucking be. And yep, I think I might just splat my fucking pants at any given seco - oh - oh - OOOOOOHFFFFFUUUUUCCKKK - oooops, too late.” When Mr Golden Posers finally stopped squeezing and relaxed from the pose, there was a pause as he looked at Stuart Fox with his hands on his hips. Slightly out of breath, it seemed he was waiting for his next instruction. Instead of doing that, however, Stuart took his unexpected behaviour to a whole new level. He turned to me and posed a question. “Do you know the poses?” I instantly panicked, and my first instinct was to deny that I did. I suddenly noticed that Mr Golden Posers was looking at me, waiting for my response. “Erm…” FUCK! Say it. Just say it! And then, surprising even myself, I suddenly and nervously blurted out my next words. “Abs and thighs?” I looked at Stuart who was smirking at me like crazy, and another wave of panic went through me. How on earth would a guy like me know anything about the official names of bodybuilding poses? Had I been rumbled? Or more accurately, had I, in fact, just given my own game away? And then I realised, by the smile on Stuart Fox’s face, that it may not have been an entirely bad thing if I had. As I coyly smiled back at Stuart, Mr Golden Posers interrupted the moment by throwing one arm behind the back of his head. With his right hand resting on his hip, and adopting the same adorably cute and crazily hot nose wrinkling and bottom lip biting that he’d done before, he crunched down into a one armed abs and thighs with an amazingly hot, “Hhmmppfff!” sound. The lines separating his beautifully shaped baby abs deepened, as they popped out from his torso, almost as much as the golden coloured bulge in his posers did. He then made a switch and threw the other arm behind his head for another crunch, all the time pulling that endearingly cheeky expression and staring into the camera. I couldn’t help wondering if he preferred this style of abs and thighs, with one hand resting around his hip area, because it increased the chance of drawing the attention of the lucky spectator to his awesome, shiny, bulge packed trunks. There was a slightly awkward pause when Mr Golden Posers relaxed from what had undoubtedly been his hottest pose yet and was now just standing and shooting glances at Stuart and I. I looked at Stuart, who was looking at me in return, and it took me a moment to realise they were waiting for me to call out yet another pose. A ripped up muscle guy backstage at an actual bodybuilding competition was waiting for instructions from me on what to do next. When I signed up to study for a semester in California, I never would have imagined this is how I’d be spending one of my Saturday afternoons. I was tempted to go with a back lat spread pose. I hadn’t seen Mr Golden Posers from the back yet, and I wanted to know whether there were lines in his shiny trunk covered ass, but an urge to watch him hit another pose suddenly took over. “Erm…most muscular?” I said. A mischievous, but sexy grin emerged on Mr Golden Posers’ face as if to say, “Awwww hell yeah! Get ready for this one fuckers,” as he once again clasped his right fist with his left hand, and then gave a short, sharp crank down into the pose, accompanied by adeep and inexplicably hot grunt. In reaction to this, my throbbing boner suddenly and uncontrollably spasmed and I felt something wet in my boxers. For a spilt second I feared I may have actually cum before realising it was no doubt just pre-cum oozing and dripping out into the crotch of my underwear. Mr Golden Posers stayed in the pose for a few seconds, squeezing hard as if his life depended on it. Striations erupted on his squeezed chest, the thick veins popped through the wafer thin skin of his bulging biceps and the lines separating his gorgeous little abs became more prominent than they were three seconds before. A pumped up, beef packed little muscle stud was cranking his barely human mass right down the lens of a camera I was operating and staring into. When he stopped squeezing, he was beaming at Stuart and I, displaying his sexy, mischievous and incredibly endearing smile in its full glory for the first time. As if on cue, someone loudly announced for the lightweight competitors to start queuing up to go on stage. I expected a brief gesture towards Stuart Fox and I from Mr Golden Posers before he waddled away to show off what a rock hard, brilliantly carved out muscle freak of nature he was and crank out the very poses he’d just performed on stage for an adoring audience packed theatre. What I didn’t expect was for him to reach out and shake Stuart’s hand, then reach for mine, giving us both friendly nods of thanks and approval. Stuart wished him good luck, while I was unable to mutter up another single word as this devastatingly sexy bodybuilder revealed what an incredibly friendly and down to earth guy he was. As I started to reconsider my marital future to Bryan Macleod and pondered the chances of becoming Mrs Golden Posers instead, he was strutting away from us, and I finally got a chance to see what he looked like from behind. His deliciously pumped up little lats winged out from his gorgeous back, while, as predicted, those incredible posers looked just as shiny and unspeakably hot from the back, as they perfectly hugged a modestly sized, lovely shaped ass which, sure enough, came with a few freaky lines and striations peeking through the skin. As I watched him walk him walk away, I felt a slight pang of regret that I gave up the chance to see the beautiful detail in those glutes up close. Left alone again with Stuart Fox, he took me by surprise when he offered up a compliment. “You did well.” I wasn’t entirely sure whether he was referring to my camera skills, or my ability to get ridiculously close to a pair of massively pumped, gloriously flexed biceps without blowing a massive wad in my jeans, but I offered up a shy smile of gratitude anyway. “I have one tip though,” he continued. “Don’t be afraid to get the camera closer. It might feel like your invading their space but they’re used to it. They know what they’ve signed up for here.” Hmmm. A day spent with secret muscle loving work experience attendees shoving cameras in their faces wishing they were touching, squeezing and licking every inch of their absurdly pumped, superhuman sized mounds of man meat?! “You’re not close enough until you can see the beads of sweat on the muscle.” OH MY FUCKING GOD!! Actually…make that…SLURP FUCKING SLURP!! Before I had the chance to ask Stuart whether I could whip out my phone and record every single unknowingly (or were they - the cheeky bugger!) and inexplicably hot word he was saying, he was drawing my attention to a corner of the pump room. “Looks like Baz is putting your classmate’s skills to good use.” I turned to the spot where Stuart was looking to witness Billy Horvath handing out assorted refreshments and drink bottles to Baz Wade and a small group of men who were presumably his mates, and who all pretty much gave out the same obnoxious, and slightly threatening vibe that he did. Baz was talking to Billy, and as he turned and walked off with the most disgruntled scowl I’d ever seen Billy sporting, it was clear Baz had marched him off somewhere to perform another errand. “Yeah, that’s pretty much how Baz treats all the work experience guys if he can get away with it,” Stuart explained. It was official. Billy Horvath was Baz’s bitch for the day. I couldn’t help but smile and failed to suppress a guilty chuckle, before realising, that that could have been me. As if reading my mind, Stuart gave me a mischievous grin. “Lucky you got me huh?” “So, Charlie Steatham, what do you feel like shooting next?” Stuart’s question caught me a little off guard, and I had no idea how to respond. Luckily he was about to offer up some suggestions. “OK, so we could go in search for some of the super heavyweights guys. Or…” he paused, gave me a slightly quizzical look, clearly doubting his next words, shook his head with a slightly sheepish grin and said, “nah, forget it.” “What?” I replied. I was eager to know what Stuart was going to say. He was still looking at me like he was trying to figure out whether he could trust me or not. “Come on,” I gently ordered. Stuart took the plunge. “OK, well you might think this is totally stupid, and I’ve never actually told anyone this before, so no laughing, and you might think I’m a complete nerd when I admit to this, but, I sometimes play a little game with myself.” My ears pricked up and I was instantly curious. “So, we have all these bodybuilders in this room to film,” Stuart continued. “All in excellent, competition condition. However…” he momentarily paused and raised one eyebrow as my mind heart began to race with what was about to follow. “Some guys will have things about them, that are better than some of the other guys. So, I sort of challenge myself to film the guys who have the best of a certain attribute.” He looked at me with a quizzical look as if asking if I were following his drift. I nodded, so he continued. “For example, I might set out to find the most inhumanly shredded guy in the room.” WHAT THE - DID HE JUST SAY? - I CAN’T EVEN - OH FUUUUUUUCCCCKKK!! I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. Did Stuart Fox just casually utter the words “inhumanly shredded” like it was the most casual thing you can possibly say? Along with my eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, I couldn’t hide the grin of sheer pleasure at hearing someone describing muscle in the hottest way possible. I suddenly flashbacked to Bryan MacWoofityWoof casually rolling words like, “Jacked up muscle bulls,” off his tongue to a disgusted Billy Horvath and I. What was it with these camera men coming out with the kind of unutterably hot muscle descriptions I’d only ever said in my head, or read on the Internet? Stuart continued. “And then I might set out to find the most all out monstrous muscle freak in the room.” HOLY SWEET FUCKING JESUS! “And then the guy with the biggest muscle tits.” TITS?! FUCKING TITS?! He could have said pecs, but no. He went one fucking better and used the word TITS! “The guy with the most incredibly shredded abs.” FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK FUUUUUCK!! I felt like I’d slipped into some kind of muscle related twilight zone. Here was a handsome, charming guy, not only detailing to me the most awesome, imaginative and bonkers self-invented game involving a room full of brutally huge, beautifully ripped muscle bulls in tiny, shiny posers using the craziest and hottest vocabulary, but also inviting me to play it with him. “Erm…let’s see,” Stuart was talking to himself and thinking. “What else is there”? The guy with the most freakishly striated ass. Say the guy with the most freakishly striated ass!! “The guy with the craziest feathered quads.” OHGODOHGODOHGOD. I seriously can’t take much more of this. “The guy with the most freakishly huge biceps.” If I splat my fucking pants right here and now Stuart Fox it’s all your fucking fault! “Erm…this one’s a little quirkier.” Most impossibly cute guy in the room? The beast with the biggest posing trunk bulge (BOIIIING)? The carved out muscle freak you wanna splat your pants over the most?! His tone took on a slightly cautious tone. “The guy with the best posing trunks?” STUART FOX YOU’RE FUCKING KILLING ME!! And then, without thinking, I said, “I think we’ve filmed him already.” As soon as the words left my mouth I instantly panicked, and felt my cheeks starting to burn. Stuart quickly responded with an agreeable, “YEAH!” in a tone which sounded more like a, “DAMN FUCKING STRAIGHT WE HAVE!” And then it was Stuart’s turn to blush, as we both coyly smiled at each other and one thought went through my head: Definitely a beef crazed muscle lover who pumps massive loads into his boxer shorts over inhumanely shredded posing trunk sporting muscle bulls on a regular bases! “So, now you know how the game works,” Stuart continued, “are you in or out?” I wanted to ask Stuart if this was a trick question, and tell him I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been propositioned with an idea so brilliant, so bonkers, and so perfectly catered to my taste it was untrue. Instead I just cheekily grinned at him, which he took as a yes. Even though I’d not long met him, I was already feeling incredibly comfortable with Stuart. In fact, I couldn’t quite believe how well we were hitting it off. As a result of being generally quite shy, I usually found it hard to relax around people I didn’t know. Most of the time when I’d meet new people, it almost felt like a wall of anxiety would build up around me, suppressing all of my good qualities and preventing anyone from warming to me at a rate that was relatively normal. On very rare occasions, however, I would meet someone who, for whatever reason, made me feel instantly relaxed, and seemed to break down that wall of anxiety with relative ease. Maybe they were a special type of person, or maybe they just came armed with a very big sledgehammer. Either way, Stuart Fox was, without question, one of them. “So, Charlie Steatham, the next question is, which guy do we go looking for first?”

Finally, is there a 5th installment ? I wish you had time to write it. Thanks !!

Absolutely loving this story! So glad you posted part 2. Now I can't wait for part 3!!!

Here is Writing Challenge #2, Suggested by flamedelft. Hope you guys enjoy. Remember guys this was written in a hour. 000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 Stan waited for his next client at the front desk of the gym. The gym was well known for fastest growth in the area. There was rumors that they were a testing site for the government super soldier serum. That was far from the truth. It was the gym's own special protein drink that responsible. For most there was a pound a muscle that devolved per session but there was a rare guy that his muscles just took the formula and bulked right up, gaining 10 pounds or more in one session. Stan was mixing the drink for his trainee as the trainee came right on time. "Hello there," Stan said, standing up and offering his large hand. "Welcome to Pure Muscle Gym. My name is Stan and I will your trainer." The man took the hand shacked it. "James," said the client, "I heard this was the best gym if you want to bulk up.' Stan smiled and said, "That is right, Jame." Breaking the handshake, he handed James his protein drink. "Drink up and I will take your measurements for your base line." James drunk his drink a gulp at a time. Getting on the scale that was near the desk but still hidden from the rest of the gym so the client had privacy during their first measuring, James just sighed as his weight was displayed on the readout, 115 lbs. "Don't worry man," Stan re-insured James, "You are not the lightest guy at his starting point." Then the trainer took out the measuring tape and asked to flex his bicep for a measurement. His arms were 13 inches. Stan measured James chest which was 36 inches then his waist, 32 inches, and then finally the thighs. "23 inches," Stan said as he entered the data into the computer. James was halfway drinking his protein drink. Stan smiled and then guide James to stretching zone and showed him how to stretch out his muscle before work out. "Time to get your max lifts," the trainer said as he took Jame to the free weights. He gave Jame a set of 20 pounds weights. "Lets started with the basic arm curl," Stan said before starting to explain how to do the curl properly. James did a set of 10 reps with the weights, then they went up five pounds and did sets of ten reps until James could not do ten reps. "50 pounds is your max," Stan said entering the weight on the table he had. "That is good for a beginner of your size." They went through the next few arm excises, maxing out on them and went to bench press. As they walked to the bench press, the trainer noticed that the protein drink starting to work. Stan added 10 pound to the bare bar. "We will be starting at 55 pounds and increasing by 10 pounds after each set." Stan said. James did the lift with ease only having Stan adjust his grip only a few times during the first few sets. At the 75 pound mark, James started to struggle but sill made it through ten reps. Adding the next ten pound and starting the next set, Stan watch as he saw James chest muscles started to grow a bit. "That it James," Stan said as he made sure he was in place to take the bar if need as James started to struggle around the 6th rep, "Doing good." Grunting, James finished the set within a minute. "I think this will be max," the trainer said as he add the last ten pounds on the bar. "Don't worry if you can't finish the set," he said as James started the set. James struggled right off the bat with his set and made it four reps before he could not do anymore. "Good man," the trainer said as he made James sit up. "You must have more strength in then your size lets on." They walked to the leg machines and started working to see what how much weight James' legs could handle. 000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000 You may post here what you think and critiques you have..

This was an odd idea on my part as I don't know much about college wrestling (other than it's super hot) but I'm working on making this story quite a piece. This part doesn't own any kind of big growing or anything like usual but I felt it would be a good way to start. Comments and feedback please. Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1525-belly-down-part-2/ Part 3: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1530-belly-down-part-3/ Belly Down Part 1 It was dark night in the athletic dorm building in the college area. The moment midnight struck, all who were slave to overnight projects were last to fall to sleep. All except the one person in the bathroom of the dorm on the 1st floor. His room was at the very end of the hall. The guard checking the dorms was gone and switching shifts with the next of duty just as Kenny turned to the final page of his spell book. It was dimly lit in his dorm bathroom but he wasn't intent on changing the bulb and waking his friend Casey. He couldn't imagine what kind of embarrassment he'd feel if Casey saw him in their bathroom surrounded by candles and incantations drawn on the ground with components of which he couldn't tell anyone he'd ordered. With a lift of his hand, he stuck out his finger and drew a knife to it, carefully drawing a small drop of blood. Kenny refused to have to go to the emergency room because he'd dripped too much blood from his small frame performing magical incantations in his dorm bathroom at 12 o'clock at night. As the drop of blood hit the paper in the center of one of the many circles around the room. Kenny pointed to the first part of the spell. “Hands of bone and fire and blood boil and bubble for your toil, draw the hand of which once was His and open the door to the gates..” With his last few words, the lights of the bathroom dimmed for a moment, going from a pale yellow to near black and then back again with the strike of the lightning outside. Kenny only looked up for a moment as he had a fear of lightning yet he still continued. “Power unattainable is taintable, Courage unowned is renowned, Desire unbearable is born, Voice of looking glass speak or forever hold, Time of rule is thus” With that, Kenny took a scared deep breath before waiting patiently for the result. After 5 minutes of staring at the unresponsive circle and dwindling candles, Kenny gave up. “Fuck this! I spent 300 dollars on random shit for nothing!” he said as he slammed the book with force. He put his head in his small hands and almost began to cry when he caught something and lifted his head up. It was only a flicker that was barely noticeable unless you looked for it but he was almost sure he saw a red spark before nothing again. “Shit.... spent my money on some wonky hallucinogenic candles. Bet your proud now, mom” he said as he scratched his hair before checking his watch. It was late and he had to be at wrestling practice with “bright eyes and bushy tails” as the coach put it in the morning. That was when he heard the window smack open in his shared bedroom. “Fuck!” he said as he ran to the window at top speed. He was lucky to be so small at 126 soaking wet as he ran on the floor but didn't make any sound. Before he could close the window, Kenny closed his eyes as the materials he'd spent his rent money on flew around him for a moment in a fluster of teeth dust, bone dust, bird pieces, and other assorted objects before flying out the window. Not a movement was made as Kenny watched the big mass in the darkness seemed to be still and awoken. When the mass began to rhythmically swell and then contract, Kenny let out a sigh of relief. Casey would chew his ass out for waking him up in the middle of the night. With a silent curse, Kenny ran to a bathroom that looked war torn with dirt, knocked over candles, and materials. Kenny checked his watch again with a sigh. “ Looks like no sleep tonight” he said. Kenny looked in the mirror across from where he stood in the moderately sized bathroom and looked at it. His red hair was a mess that was easy to see in the dim bathroom light. He looked up and down his small, thin frame and a terrible feeling filled his stomach. To his knowledge, the spell he'd tried to perform had ended in a bust. He looked at his big, baggy sleeping shirt and lifted up an arm to flex. Kenny was 5'7 and had only a small portion of muscle to show off when he looked at the tiny, grain sized muscle. His body was so puny that, when wearing all white with his pale skinned body, he was perfectly undetectable unless you looked directly at his pale blue eyes or flaming red hair. Kenny was the smallest and youngest amongst his 4 brothers, all of which were 6'4 and higher. Kenny's family was a family of giants as they were from a deep portion of Scotland where they had been known for being the largest and strongest of all the warriors and competitors of sports. Their father was only taller than he and his slightly older brother Tim at the bottom of the scale, 6'4, at an only slightly taller 6'4 ½ . All his brothers were like trees to him as they scaled up to 7'7. Kenny was reminded every time he looked in the mirror of the days where he was so small compared to his brothers and they would just get bigger and taller and seem to reach to the ceiling. His oldest brother especially as he was the linebacker for the best football team of the year and had spent years upon years of keeping his bountiful height full of bulging muscle to keep the opposite team from knocking over a bamboo reed and instead, bouncing off a brick wall. Kenny stood into his eyes and could see his own disappointment before a smile crept over his face. Wait...... a smile? Kenny touched his face as he looked at his reflection. He wasn't smiling. Yet his pearly white smile was on the screen of the mirror, his teeth glinting on his hairless face. Kenny was unblinking as he began performing odd movements that the mirror followed. Kenny was performing the stance of a ki blast from Dragonball Z just as the most shocking thing happened. “Hahahahahahahahahaha! You're one funny little fuck!” came the oddest voice from the mirror. Kenny fell against the wall as he watched his reflection move on its own. The voice he heard sounded as though it were his but it was being spoken from someone who was gurgling or his voice was being played ontop of itself. “ Don't look so fucking shocked, dickweed. You just cast a bonefied demon merging spell. What the hell we're you expecting?” said the other Kenny as he looked at the original. “ Oh right, hell. I guess that's ironic isn't it?” Kenny was wide eyed and unmoving as he watched the reflection lean on the wall like he did except more confidently, not looking like he was pissing his pants like the original version. “ So, from what I hear, you want power. That's quite a simple thing to want really. Hope you can afford it, though” said the mirror copy. Kenny was still speechless and shocked as he watched his reflection move without his command. The mirror image spoke again. “ Lucky me. You've gone and tied so close together, I can read your thoughts and desires now. Always wanted to look into the mind of horny college undergrad” he joked. “ I don't have to hear you talk. Your squeaky voice is going to wake up your hot friend over there” he said gesturing to the muscled form sleeping in one of the beds of the other room. Kenny found the strength in his skinny legs to stand up as he finally closed his mouth but couldnt shrink his big, unblinking eyes. “ What I want is for you to sign the fine print” said the copy as he reached out his hand. The mirror began to bubble and reverberate as though something had dropped into a pool of water. A hand reached out of the mirror with an open palm. “Do that and all the power you could wish for will be yours.” Kenny looked at the familiar hand in the mirror hesitantly. He reached out, his hand floating there for what seemed like an eternity before, like a snake, the hand in the mirror reached out and grabbed his hand, their identical hands shaking as though two normal people were doing so. Kenny looked up into his reflected eyes and gasped as he saw his eyes in a new shade of burning red that burned like two flames. The copy in the mirror gave a wicked smile across Kenny's face. “ I'm so excited to be working with you” said the voice before the entire mirror glew with a red light. Kenny's reflection was gone as all the light trapped in the mirror escaped like sunlight and bounced off the walls. Kenny closed his eyes as the light grew stronger and almost seemed to go through his eyelids. The light of the bathroom was easily consumed and the red light was so strong that it escaped the room and reach into their bedroom. With an explosion occurred the exact time of a stray thunderbolt's explosion, Kenny was sent flying to the opposite wall of the dorm bathroom and felt a pain shoot up his spine as he fell down to the floor with a ringing head. Not even in high school wrestling had he been rung so hard as he had to close his eyes to avoid watching his vision vibrate and roll. Kenny coughed hard as his body recovered from his pain. Kenny was pressing his hand to the back of his head moment's before Casey came into the bathroom with a pissed expression. “Kenny! What the fuck is going?!” he yelled angrily over the thunder outside. To Be Continued

Hi guys, I started to write this story yesterday, when I found out about the Evolution Forum closing... to start here with something new I always wanted to write a muscle theft story (there is no tag for theft?), and that's the first rushed result: .......................................... The Alpha, the Omega and the rest of us The world press was on the US Supreme Court for the most important decision of their history, perhaps the most important in the history of humanity. Alphas and Omegas were spreading all over the country and isolated cases started to appear in Europe and South America, it was a question of time before they would be everywhere, estimating that one in each hundred thousand Americans will soon become either an Alpha or an Omega. The closest Alpha I’ve ever met was our star player Tony, which graduated this year, he was the first Alpha of the entire state. Some college departments had to be closed and people fired so to be able to maintain our growing and costly star player. Talk about unfairness. On his freshmen year, his football contract was negligible, but then no one would guess Tony might become the Alpha of our campus. On his sophomore year, the one he started to grow jumped a four figure, by the end of his senior year, it was an eight figure contract and he wasn’t even famous beyond our state. Actually, he never cared that much about the sport itself or to excel in it. I was lucky to walk in the shadows, I never got under his radar. Like most of us, I believe, I started to stalk the star player on Facebook, at first just to believe if Tony was indeed growing bigger, more muscular, and that curiosity it slowly grew into a small obsession of mine. I myself have copies of every picture I could find of him, every youtube, vine, you name it. A friend even sold a Snapchat of Tony’s hard cock for fifty bucks, a picture that travelled the whole college by now, no one could believe his size without actually seeing it. Penises were either a shower or a grower, Tony was both. Of course, like any other Alpha, Tony took his muscles and overbearing sexuality from other people; just a sloppy kiss with Tony would be enough to form a mild bond, or linkage, and Tony kissed more girls than the rest of male student body, fucked more than one cheerleader squad – a squad that needed to be constantly replanted with new blood, even hiring new bubbly blond girls, a cheerleader near Tony would become a frail stick in less than a year-. I wasn’t in College yet, but Tony’s absurd development, was closely registered by the college communities and had photologs of the entire team…. devolution. Even that was closely followed. Poor cheerleader, those who had natural boobs would see them shrink and flow to Tony’s sexuality, his cock became truly immense, but ironically his pecs inflated out of the proportion with his body, on his smart boy band looks, men started to ogle more at his muscular cleavage than over the much less impressive female student body. Actually… that was the first thing I noticed on my first week of college, there wasn’t a single woman with memorable boobs, what a fucking disappointment. That is, until I saw Tony’s immense muscles strolling in the college corridors. I can say that was nice to see my psycho ex-tormentors of high school shrinking and on the path of becoming tiny effeminate creepy omicrons, a person depleted of any quality, some of my ex-bullies were shorter than freshmen like me. People just hated the omicron meekness, their dullness, not considering that might be the fate are the rest of us. I was afraid. I knew I was licking the knife while stalking Tony’s huge presence on Internet. I needed to feel involved with his life, like an addiction. If Tony picked me up and took me in my lips, I wouldn’t protest… even if that suck all my strength and masculinity out of me by the end of college. Nowadays, everyone could see in the open, that there is a toll to be paid by having a long and close friendship with Tony. All Tony’s closest college friends on Facebook were meeking to omicrons, with constant dark eyes, their faces somewhat melted like candles in the sun, losing face symmetry, even their legs, their bones crooked, thin as a broom. It is not like those Meth ads… but close, Tony didn’t rob their teeth. Many of Tony’s friends played football for their whole lives, many coached by their parents to become stars. Angry parents were the first enemies of him, some even tried to be violent with a jock that could explode a plaster wall with his fist –there are many youtube clips of Tony demonstrating his true strength, some surpassed a million views-. It was obviously to anyone that Tony’s personal life was a clusterfuck. That his parents became omicrons is easy to accept, but the parents of his friends becoming omicrons was suspicious. Tony’s parents were of the intellectual kind, never very receptive about his lifestyle as a football star player. Yet, all of those people, even those angry parents that wanted Tony’s head, suddenly became small omicrons faster than the cheerleaders. They were all converted now. Whatever Tony did to them, it made all of them to want him more, even after being discarded by him, even after they lost all their attractiveness that they could give to him, they still had this miserable hope that one day Tony would look back, to let them touch and kiss his huge muscles again. That was the conundrum that the Supreme Court found themselves, the omicrons, the people that had their bodies affected negatively by the Alphas and the Omegas, seemed to be okay with it. Anyone can understand the temptation of feeling Tony’s big biceps, but I could not understand why any of them willfully becoming irrelevant omicrons, that was the price of feeling Tony’s muscles for a prolonged time. “Dad” I shouted. “The Supreme Court reached a verdict, it seems.” My dad’s boss was an Omega, the female counterpart of an Alpha, he’s now shorter than I am. Scientists compared it to radiation, that low dosages for prolonged time is just as harmful as intense dosages over a short period of time, so a tongue kiss with an Alpha or Omega is just as bad as living by the side of them over a month. My dad was inches of becoming an omicron like Tony’s closest friends, and still he stays there, works for her, even if there was very little in his body to give her. While I had a minor obsession with Tony, dad had a major obsession with his Omega boss, who couldn’t give a shit about him. I noticed my dad entirely conflicted about what the Supreme Court would rule, I could see him enchanted by that mean amazon, that made mom to ask for divorce a year ago. Part of his mind wanted it to be ‘yes’, his body wanted it to be ‘no’. To tell the truth I don’t know what to think. If the Supreme Court rule Yes, then all the registered Alphas and Omegas would have to be displaced, removed from social life, asking written permission from touching other people; if they rule No, then nothing can be done and Alphas and Omegas are free to hunt and steal the life from the rest of us all. They not only steal our strength, health, muscles, our height, they steal precisely what stand out in people, major positive qualities, and sometimes it is their intelligence, dexterity, their clarity, leaving a dull nulled person in its place. Of course, Alphas and Omegas couldn’t steal someone ability to play a piano, but would rob their musical gift. What’s the point of stealing the intelligence of a Mozart or an Einstein if you have no interest in music or physics? Greediness. Greediness was present in every Alpha and Omega story I’ve ever heard and read on internet; for example, earlier this year, in the first weeks of college Tony decided to learn chess. He argued with some teacher that he could be a chessmaster if he wanted to, he probably reasoned that everything he needed were some nerds sucking his cock. Sucking an Alpha’s cock is a guaranteed link, if they taste his copious semen, it would be that link that would never be broken by distance, even if the Alpha’s gain were marginally zero. Everyone that once held a position of authority over Tony ended to suck on his cock. The dean was the one that became a fat five foot omicron in four months, losing any capacity to intimidate and to impose himself, also losing some five inches of height while Tony was close to 6’4 by then, and it was his sophomore year. Tony ended the college heightening over seven feet tall, he had to dunk and turn around to bypass most of the doors. By that time, Tony could parade with the dean on a leach around the corridors, if he wanted to. The nerds that Tony chose were those that formed a sort of secretive club of their own, usually to bash over us less brighten. Actually, no one lifted an eyebrow after learning that Tony left those snotty nerds borderline retarded. For some reason, even in the most unfair situations, people sided with him, finding excuses, or even saying that they would do the same. Would I? Anyway, Tony told the dean about the secretive club, and that an illegal poker game was scheduled in one of the college’s locked classes, which they had the key. Tony’s pet, the dean and the campus police was able detained four of them, the rest ran away, one of them being was my friend Mickey, who told me all of this. The dean, that no one respected anymore, forced them on some menial work in the college’s main library or he would report their gambling to the state authority. Our college does resemble a John Hughes high school to the point of being a location for a teen TV series –to raise money to pay our star player, obviously. Our library was pretty close to that one in Breakfast Club, but the movie here was slightly different. There was a conspiracy theory in college that Tony controlled the college and could even change the class schedules. No surprise that the ‘officer’ that supervised the geeks ‘detention’ was one of Tony’s minions. The campus police chief used to be a big black menacing dude, one that despised spoiled white jocks, Tony rendered him into a docile omicron shorter than me and in full adoration and subservience for the star player. I, and most of the college, wished to know more details of what happened in that library, when Tony wearing his usual second skin bike shorts. At least I guess he used the same shorts he used to show off his shlong casually on Facebook. He was 6’8 at the beginning of his senior year, the nerds he chose to be there were also seniors as well; I believe that there was more nuances in this story that I’m aware of. Tony wasn’t the brightest student before he became an Alpha, and he must still carry some complex about it. It wasn’t just about… ‘becoming a chessmaster’ here. For more than he tried to hide this side of him from me, Mickey was a bigger stalker of Tony than I was, Mickey was a full stalker. He behaved almost like the omicron people. He took photos of Tony with his phone, hundreds of them, thousands of pictures, short videos of Tony’s melon sized pecs twitching in shirt, clips of him casually flexing his arms… well, I admit that I invaded Mickey’s computer to copy it. Mike was using his father pro equipment to film Tony demolishing the opposite team, of him showing off and lifting the side of a car. Mickey had many clips of Tony scratching his big balls, I could sense Mickey’s fascination in those shots. Tony didn’t seem to care about being photographed and followed, my dumbstruck friend filming him everywhere would hit a nerve in anyone else. If Mickey knew that being detained that afternoon, and that would lead to an opportunity to lick Tony’s cock, Mickey would put the college on fire. It was troubling to think that nor did he or I had any attraction for men before discovering Tony. We both had our big boobed porn on google to masturbate for. For me it was a revelation the first time I couldn’t escape from Tony in my masturbatory fantasies, his beefy legs appeared in my mind, and after that I did it again, and again, to the point I can only ejaculate by looking at his pictures. Talk about man crush. Whatever happened in that library, it did not went as smooth as Tony intended, nerds are different, he must have noticed. What I do have nice details of what happened next, later in the night; Tony wasn’t pleased of having only four brainiacs to suck his cock off in the library. One of them told him about a RPG party and Tony invited himself there. Who could say ‘no’ to the giant college athlete stretching himself towards the ceiling pushing his back muscles forward by gyrating his arms for astounded audience of seven geeks, ‘he’s way bigger than that Thor dude’ one of stoned geeks marveled while another one fainted. Tony would need to be extra careful with these geeks if he wanted them all. I imagined that Tony would just shove the geek’s faces onto his cock, but no, Tony was far more insidious than that. He never forces anyone. He doesn’t need to. The cheerleader squad gave themselves their prettiness to his handsomeness and his cock size, the football team was devolved of their strength and confidence to him, pleased of it affecting Tony’s every cell, making his unnatural perfect appearance out of divinity. Tony was just a college jock inside, and that was the scary part. The nerds complimented him without trying to look overly nervous, Tony took the space of two or three people around the table, dwarfing them with his immense pecs and shoulders in his darkish skintight turtleneck base layer that covered his entire upper body, he was trying to look more intellectual to the geeks, I guess. I’m sure that he knew that intimidation was a double-edged sword, and if he wanted to take all of them to suck his cock, he would have to play nicely with them. None of them could pay attention to the game as the star player was watching them from his vantage point slipping from the cold beer pint, making his mammoth biceps to casually flex. Tony said he ‘just wanted to watch and learn’, but only the very naïve would believe that the star player had any interest in RPG. The only two nerdy girls of the geek group had their glasses lens already foggy by their own elevated perspiration, almost squealing when Tony shifted position, making his man’s biceps to touch his man’s forearm. Tony tested all of those geeks, using his muscles to secretly flirt, at a moment making the boulders of his pectorals to jump at one nerd’s face, who ended to throw his funny dice out of the window three floors below in the pool. Without the 20-sided dice roller, there was no game anymore. Tony thought of another one. When the geeks stared down at the pool where the dice had fallen, Tony called their attention back, “Oh, shit, dude, I spilled the whole beer over my crotch.” Everyone looked down at Tony’s stretched soaked stretchable jeans. His muscles didn’t let his balls and cock space between his legs, they’re always jutting, even bouncing when he ran shirtless and in his golden football pants, which he wore it carelessly in the campus as if it was a school uniform. That moment he was wearing jeans. Very stretchable ones, made to meet his measures in both states of relaxed and flexed muscles. “I think can find you some pants” said the fat geek that lived there. Tony must have dashed a smiled at that. “Sure, if you have a shirt it would be cool too.” He said. His manly voice must have shook the guts of the chubby nerd mumbling at the biceps that could lift the front end of a vehicle. In the presence of the other five and two girls, Tony said “I hope you don’t mind I change in here” and started to peel the skintight turtleneck base layer off his skin. To the girls, that must have be the greatest underwear ad of all time, glistering with perfect and vast intimidating muscles, and yes… that was it. No more effort was needed to seduce them. 100% sure, I’m absolutely sure that any healthy human being would gladly such Tony’s cock at that point. If you have doubts of what I’m saying, is because you don’t know Tony. He can bend the straightest square. Yet, for some reason, Tony thought that would be nicer to make these awkward geeks to beg for it. “How many inches?” One of the male geeks dared to ask a bro question, pointing to the ‘relaxed’ peak of his biceps. It was known in college that the best way to start a conversation with Tony, is to ask about his muscles, not the weather. Actually, in college we exchanged more amenities and small talk about Tony’s growing muscles than the weather. Tony flexed his right arm to the geek… I saw it upclose myself, it is unreal, his biceps seemed to inflated like a puffer fish, it gives you a shock, like a blinding light that takes time for eyes to adapt, “Twenty-three inches, but that was a month ago, they must be twenty-four by now.” “wow… yeah, I noticed that the team over this summer… got… reduced.” Tony laughed at it, giving the nerd a tiny bump on his shoulders that made him land over the far side of the couch, “Reduced… that’s a nice way to put it.” One of the nerdy girls just drowned an entire beer in one gulp to sum up courage to touch his forearm, feeling the indentations of his detailed and wide muscularit, feeling the warm stone flesh under the skin. She went say the line, “I wish I had muscles to give you, Tony.” The other nerds looked at each other, that girl never demonstrated any interest in sex was trying to get in Tony’s pants, for them, this possibility was hilarious and absurd since the most hot girl in the known universe would gratefully spread her legs for this young beefcake titan. On the other side, they were so intoxicated by this possibility, that his presence that must have clouded their judgment, they knew that once their lips exchange fluids with his cock, they’ll carry the lingering effect for life, and forget about having a ‘normal life’, no one likes creepy omicron people nearby. Smaller they get, creepier they are. The geek returned with a folded pair of sweats and a pullover. Tony chuckled at the size of the pants. “They’re perfect.” He said removing his pants. His quads were big as a big loaf of bread squashed between more muscles, I bet that the room went quiet at that moment, his quads were a work of art in complete balance with its monstrous scale. Of course, while he removed his stuck pants from his spherical calves, everyone in the room traveled their eyes above, on how different he was for us normal people, even his underwear was different, made of different, more expensive and expansive materials to avoid silly accidents, like his monumental boner flapping out in the middle of the class, which unfortunately I would never have a chance to witness myself. Tony in his socks and underwear, attempted the wear the pathetic pullover on his overdeveloped muscular body, one of his delts alone was bigger than any of these geeks heads. Slowly the sleeve stretched as it advanced onto Tony’s Herculean forearm, “so far so good…” He said as he pushed it as slowly as possible, like a very delicate piece of film. The material stressed much more to cover his bicep, that threads started to split, but did not collapsed yet. The sleeve wasn’t long enough to cover his forearm, stopping midway, and he tried the other one, this time the sleeve opened a wide crack at his left bicep’s peaks, but somewhat it held in place. His head entered the collar easily, but as soon he brought down his arms, the pullover protested the abuse, almost unable to take the full girth of Tony’s torso, the collar got deformed by the wideness of his shoulders, his traps pushing the pullover back while he tried to fit his legendary pectorals, the pullover opened more cracks on his bulging lats but, miraculously, like a huge 12-wheeler bulldozer crossing over a frail wooden bridge, it somewhat survived. His pecs deformed the college’s bulls circular logo to a very elliptical shape, making it unrecognizable. Most of his abs were left exposed, but shadowed by pullover’s gap that his prominent epic pectorals created. “Okay, if I don’t breath…” The cracks expanded one more time around his shoulders and lats, “…it will last a bit more.” “That was from my fat days.” Said that fat geek. Tony took the sweat pants, he knew that that cheap fabric would never withstand the enormity of his quads, but he tried anyway. “Help me with this thing. This pullover is going to rip apart if I move.” Tony commanded the geeks, all of them moved forward, but more appropriately, they let the two girls to help Tony, one leg at a time. Almost giggling with the bliss and excitement, the two blushing nerdy girls started moving the pants up over their first obstacle, his calf. All the while, half of the guys stared openly at his soft but heavy cock nested in a wall of muscles, swinging with his jerk movements to help the girls. The other half watched his pecs, more entrancing than any big boobs in their personal porn stash. It was Tony’s favorite muscle to show off, second to his quads and biceps. The girls licked their lips, dribbling at the vision above them, more wonderful than a aurora borealis with a triple rainbow, and yet so close of their own shaking hands. After so many imaginary sessions with their clit, repeating over and over all the stories they heard about Tony, the real deal was more overwhelming than their solitary fantasies with him envisioned. His aura of absolute superiority was at times frightening, and some people had troubles in their sleep when Tony appeared in their dreams. Most girls ignored by Tony developed some self-esteem issues that made those dreams much more frequent. These two girls dealing with his pants over the thickness of his leg muscles were a prime example. Now they could be the chosen ones, and Tony was remarkably choosy of whom he lets to suck his cock, or even to talk directly to him. I bet my life that both were wet as they completed the task of covering that bowling ball sized calf that could kick a ball a mile away. Quickly, they came for the next task, an impossible one, to cover his upper leg… Clothes for Alphas like Tony, sporting dimensions completely new for the fashion industry, were absurdly expensive, but Alphas always find a rich omicron drone to deal with it. These guys took it like a mission, I’ve heard of omicron people getting bankrupted to please the growing tastes of Omegas, and Alphas were not that different. I didn’t know who was spending some big money to wear Tony in his senior year at the college, his high endurance clothes were custom made in a specialized sportswear company in Germany, while all the rest of us used something made in China. The made in china sweat pants stopped at the begging of Tony’s quad, the girls pushed up but it wouldn’t give, “Hey guys, help the girls here.” Two geeks came forward and kneel before quad bigger their torso, Tony’s upper leg shape resembled a WWII fat bomb, they were speechless, mute, frozen, incapable to even nod at Tony’s reverberant voice, pitifully hiding their erections and fearing their own desires over Tony and his towering muscles. Eight hands around Tony’s upper leg pushed the cheap pants up, the hand of one the guys slipped and bumped into the head of Tony’s soft cock, which I heard that was seven inches long in its flaccid relaxed form. These days must be much longer. The same geek slipped his hand again, and it made Tony to smirk, it was no accident. That package in his boxers was bigger than two closed fists of the geek. The though must have crossed Tony’s mind because an instant later, that volume was bigger than three fists. There was a major RIIIIP and Tony’s quads tore the pants fabric. With their butts on the ground, making omg faces, they observed the pullover starting to collapse around Tony as well, with a huge tear coming from his hulking back up to his bull traps. Tony flexed his arms simultaneously to destroy the pullover in a single movement, throwing over his muted geek ‘friends’ the useless pieces of tortured cloth. “I guess I’ll have to spend the rest of the night like this. I hope you don’t mind.” The Alpha titan walked to the big TV led set, which he eclipsed with his wide v-shape back “… is that the new Playstation? Let’s play it.” No one could say no to Tony wearing only his briefs and socks, he sat on the big couch, which didn’t seem so big with Tony’s legs on it. The geeks sat around him as he chose one of the few games available, Street Fighter vs something was good enough. Tony was probably curious about the four nerd lingering their talents to him that afternoon, obviously, it was still too early to have any affect him, but then, many players of his depleted team were gamers. “I’m getting better at it.” Tony said to both girls at his sides after his fifth flawless victory. I would say that the geeks were all too affected by his muscularity and size to play any better with Tony. The girls kept on drinking beer to dilute any of their inhibition towards Tony, and that was working, they were getting a crazy fever to yank Tony’s fat cock from that underwear. They already gave all possible signs of how easy they got, laughing with him like maniacs, letting their silly hands to fall over his arms and biceps, letting to rest their faces on his naked hard shoulders, opening a few more buttons of their shirts, trying to entice the star player with their modest breasts. The guys were drinking beer and smoking weed nonstop as well, laughing nervously at every word of Tony just like the girls. After Tony beat all of them in the game, he decided to demonstrate a long stretch of his body with his eyes closed, and suddenly he felt someone to grab his crotch. “Finally,” he must have thought. The girl who grabbed his cock stared at Tony with pleading eyes, desperate, like a bad dog that did a bad bad thing and wanted forgiveness from its owner. Tony could be an arrogant prick but deep inside he had a mellow heart, he could play this game to the insanity of his geek audience, but he just let his fat cock to flop outside the cotton confinements. The two girls jumped at it, even Tony never saw so much despair for his cock, they both slurped their tongues at the soft shaft that started to inflate like a helium balloon, pulling their eyes out of their sockets. Tony noticed some guys stepping back, and he said to them, reassuring with his non-threatening voice, “hey, don’t go… I know that you want to watch…” He bounced his pecs once, and then multiple times, as Tony got their immediate attention trapped on his immense chest. The girls were relishing on his cock, making wild noises that never imagined that would do themselves, clumsily licking all that hardening cock, with their own long hair mixing with his skin and their saliva. The girls couldn’t care less of that mega cocksucking being watched or judged by their longtime college male friends. His cock erected like a crane, the girls could not move that strong shaft to their lips, they had to follow it as Tony reclined, putting his arms behind his head, flexing his twenty-three inches biceps one at a time for the rest of the geeks. “Can I?” one of them asked reverentially approaching his hand over muscle mountain. Tony just flexed it for him, becoming a ball of steel, the geek jumped at that, with trepidation, uncertainty and an amount of dare, he touched them. The girls were having their orgasms already, just by licking his dick, thick as a beer can, moaning like bitches over the sheer size of it “It didn’t even reached the final form!” Tony said laughing, making his cock an inch higher, wider, bigger than the previous fourteen inches, more veiny, just throbbing like his jock super muscles. Two of the geeks were still watching the muscular spectacle on the leather couch, their eyes fixed on the voluminous pecs that made all the popular girls at the college to feel inadequate. Tony bounced for them, in that position they reached his chin, inviting them, hypnotizing them with their mass, to make them to come forward and feel the size of it with their open hands. They looked at each other, maybe afraid of what the other would think, but the temptation was too big to let it go by. Simultaneously they went over Tony’s immense pectorals, basking their cheeks on their greatness, groping such mountainous muscles, letting it to overflow their two pairs of hands. That made the last two geeks behind Tony to lose all their last refrains, they moved to those earthquake-inducing quads, they wanted to be where Tony’s biggest muscles meet each other, to be between muscles that dwarfed their bodies. They wanted as much as Tony took his first step into that house, as much when they saw him striding in the campus, with his big legs pulsing a world of muscle at each step. Together, they embraced muscles stronger than a dozen of people, and before they could touch the Holy Grail, Tony toyed with them and started to compress the two geeks between his legs, like a car-crushing machine. Tony laughed aloud at the geeks getting freaky over his body, making all sort of noises. Certainly, they were clumsy virgins that suddenly found themselves in a fantasyland. For Tony was hilarious to watch them frantic over his body like famished animals, fighting between themselves for one more inch of his cock While it was all entertaining for Tony, he looked at his phone, there was some dozen invites to another parties and hundreds of PMs that Tony didn’t care to respond. Tony already got what he needed from these geeks, but he was feeling generous that night and let the geeks to lick, grab and smother their faces everywhere on his large body for more five minutes. They were weightless to him, threw all of them over the couch and the floor just by repositioning his body. He had their complete attention, and stood up above their perplexed faces. Tony spread his immense muscular winds and stood above the mass of geeks with his sixteen inches of iron rod pointing at them, which he slowly jacked, like he was arming a rifle. A smashing amount of cum slapped into the forehead on one geek, and Tony move his aim to the other ones, with absolute control and precision he hit their mouths and nostrils, infecting them even more. They even maintained had their mouths wide to receive more, they all became his bitches, wanting more mess over their faces and hair. Without ceremony, Tony took his own clothes and started put them on, “sorry guys, have a party to go. It was fun. See you in class.” They watched by the window the Alpha turning the engine of his big bike and going away from their lives. Over the college year, the above-average intelligence of those geeks dumbered down, lingering to the jock that would never fully use it. It helped his grades a lot in his graduation year, but not in the same proportion of the terrible grades that those geeks found themselves. They didn’t even care about grades anymore, or even the graduation, they became more numbers added to Tony’s minions, hopelessly daydreaming about touching their muscle god again. And then you ask… how do I know all these details? How do I know Tony’s clothes? Its colors, the precision of his height? That’s the catch, the entire campus know. We share stories about Tony the same way that Homer needed to preserve Greek battles. Tony was our Alpha, each day of him was more important than the life of any other student like me. I know so many stories about him that would fill a book. Why did I chose to tell this story? To show their greediness. For one. Tony went to learn about chess in the weeks after that event with the geeks. While he learned the game and the rules quite fast, he was never really able to win over an experienced player. “What do I need to do?” Tony asked to one of the best players in the college, one that he hadn’t drained yet, otherwise he wouldn’t have anyone to play with him. In frustration, Tony depleted another dozen four-eyed students of their brightness. I was lucky that I didn’t wore glasses at that time. His opponent offered an introductory book of chess strategies. “A book? I don’t have time for fucking books.” Said the titan that de facto governed the college. The first most important reason I told about this story, is the lesson that we are powerless to stop Alphas and Omegas from doing whatever they want from us. The frightening thing about the Alphas and the Omegas, well, I haven’t told you yet. Let me share with you some personal thoughts of Mickey about Alphas, that he told me just after Tony’s graduation: “Tony was nice actually. He only drained the popular girls and jocks, some geeks at the most. It would be hell worse. Do you know what happens when an Alpha fucks with an Omega, or Alpha with Alpha and Omega with Omega? They get linked. Just like any of us would… and the stronger will suck out what they want from the weaker, like a smaller star that loses its mass by orbiting a bigger star. Are you following me? In Tony’s position, I would make every motherfucker in this college to suck me, I would link every single people I would find, so that I’d be strong enough to drain any motherfucking Alpha. I would the climb pyramid as fast as I could, because there is only one place for the true Alpha. Well… Tony… I think he wont survive that in a long run. He’s too much of a nice guy.” “Tony is seven feet tall, any bigger you wouldn’t be able to drive a car. Who wants that? Why anyone would want to be a giant?” “Greediness.” He said. “This the shot to be a god on earth… would you let it slip away?” A lot of people do think like Mickey. Anyone could become an Omega, or an Alpha, who knows? That can happen with you. But everyone, Alphas and Omegas included, could become creepy omicrons by crossing a bigger fish. As they say in Brazil, A Vida dá Voltas. That gave a false sentiment of justice and a very thin sentiment of hope, making people to dream about becoming Alphas or Omegas to revenge against the unfairness of their lives. The blatant theft of the Alpha and Omega from the normal common people, is somewhat acceptable because of this tiny chance of being one of them and live the dream. Those Alpha and Omega parasite people should be sent to a remote base far away and be studied to find a cure to whatever is causing it. I would be compared to Hitler if I ever say this publicly. At each college of America, and any crowded workspace, even colleges, Alphas and Omegas were emerging to assume their territory and their human livestock. They could be anyone and their numbers were increasing by a thousand across the country. No one could predict our immediate future. Much less the US Supreme Court. They were about to rule if the affirmation of ‘omicrons are ‘not responsible’ for creating the linkage with the Alphas and Omegas’ is true or false, a trick question. Like I said, Tony never forced sex on anyone, he doesn’t need to. No one is able to deny him anything, even a suggestion. My dad had a confused look waiting for the resolution, he wanted his mega bitch Omega boss far away, but he was bounded to her, in despair he might even try to find her whatever they land her. Like many of Tony’s omicrons that he created in his college years. I was going for my sophomore year and Tony left us, all the political structure that served him over the last years fell like a castle of cards, the dean, the couch, the entire football management, all removed due to unpayable debts to the college ex-star player. By then those middle-aged men and women were all omicrons shorter than five feet tall. Sooner or later, an Alpha or an Omega will take Tony’s place in our college. Could be anyone of us. Could be janitor. On my old school Ms. Janet, the Principal, became an Omega. Whoever he or she is, we were sure that the rest of us would be his or her second-class citizens. And to cement our destiny, the Supreme Court gave their vote. It is NO.