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Rush Hour Muscle: Version Two Here is a further mass muscle growth short.. This time its on the bus. Hope U like it.. I sat at the Bus stop,glancing down at my watch.It was 5.30pm. I had been sitting here for well over half an hour waiting for the bus to come,so i can get home,and gradually other commuters mingled around the bus stop building up into a small crowd. The road was heavy and bustling with slow moving rush hour traffic,and perhaps this was what was holding up the bus further down i suppose. It was a warm summers day and several hours yet until night fall,so i did not have to sit here in the winter when nights were shorter,shivering in cold weather. I could see some of the drivers in the cars and vans looking bothered and hot,some blaring their horns to try and get the traffic moving as they became more irritable. Eventually after a few more minutes waiting,the bus came around the corner of the road. It stopped with a hiss and the doors creaked open. I could see the bus was already quite full and the windows were steamed up with the heat from inside,even with most of the little slot windows opened up. I waited as the passengers before me got on..then managed to squeeze myself on before the driver refused to allow any more passengers on. I fought my way down the aisle and quickly grabbed a free seat at the back of the bus and settled down for the 15 minute journey home. The bus set off on its route,crawling slowly into the traffic. I wiped the steam off the window by my seat and peered out at the the world,trying not to oggle the cute young twentysomething guy with the backpack who had chosen the seat beside me. He was gorgeous.!! With flirting glimpses,i furtively eyed him up. He was light olive skinned, definately a latin stud.. Fairly long messy raven black hair,a strong slim face with full thick lips,and a silver stud pierced just below his bottom lip. Lean and muscular beneath the dark green tee he wore,drawn tightly over his strongly defined chest,a hint of dark chest hair just revealing from a low neck collar. Strong muscular arms sprinkled with dark stubbly hair..thick biceps beneath the short sleeves. He had his backpack on his lap,but i could see he was wearing beige khaki shorts and the hint of powerful and hairy legs. Damn,i was getting a boner in my pants and shifted uncomfortably in my seat,but the smell of his manly sweat turned me on so much i could feel my cock dribbling pre-cum. Hell, i was so un-nerved that i could suddenly smell my own sweat.! The bus moved achingly slow as i tried my best to keep my attention out of the window. Then the guy shifted in his seat,drawing me back to look at him. He raised his arm and brushed a hand through his hair. And i nearly came in my jeans.! I could not avoid the sight of his bicep flexing in his sleeve,stretching the material wafer thin, a vein seemingly pulsing across the thick curved muscle. I looked away again before i lost it completely. Then i heard a rip.. I was drawn back to the hunk. His bicep had made a tear in his sleeve. It bulged and flexed almost as if he was teasing me,but he was looking ahead. Then i saw his bicep flex again and looked as if it was swelling. I rubbed my eyes as if i was hallucinating seeing his muscle grow. No.. His bicep bulged and expanded as if being filled by air,the vein streaked across it, thickening and rippling. Then he lowered his arm,but the bicep kept growing,and the rip split wider. His hairy forearm thickened and rippled and his delts bunched up and filled out the shoulder of the sleeve.. 'Riiiip..!' The thin material of his sleeve could take no more and literally burst apart. The hunk just sat there staring ahead as if this was a naturalprocess as his back thickened beneath his tee,rapidly filling it out with engorging lat muscles that pushed back against the seat and then burst the tee apart.. I found myself being pushed against the window,pinned by the studs growing muscles. His thick chest joining in the growth,the already meaty mounds expanding into huge heaving slabs that pushed outwards against the straining shirt. With a loud rip,the front tore open,freeing his growing bloating pecs,heavily covered in dark curly hair and capped with large juicy nipples that pointed ever downwards with the growth of his muscles. Still,he seemed unperturbed by his growing muscles filling the small gap between our seat and the one in front, as if it was perfectly normal !. My eyes shot forward as he glanced at me and smiled before looking away. My eyes settled on the back of the guy sitting in the seat in front,and i nearly fainted! He was wearing a denim jacket stretched across a wide back that was thickening and filling it out with swelling lats and beefing up shoulders. I watched in awe and shock as the seams on his shoulders ripped and his bulging delts poked out. The guy sitting next to him in a smart executive black suit was going through the same process.His perfectly ironed jacket was bulging and filling with a massive back that easily began to tear through the thin fabric in the centre and at the shoulder seams. I shuddered as i felt myself cum in my briefs,and moisten the crotch,turned on and pinned in by the now huge Latin muscle hunk that filled the seat beside me. A teenaged boy with messy blonde hair,wearing what had been his school unform stood up from the seat in front of the two hunks in front of me. He was fucking enormous,his white shirt,tie and blazer,torn and ripped to shreds over huge bloated slab like pecs smooth and glistening with sweat under the dim lights of the bus,..fat boulder like biceps rippling and streaked with chord like veins,looking perhaps 30 inches if humanly possible!. Hard brick like 8 pack abs crunching and flexing.. Oh fuck!.. i thought..shocked at the hinting sight of what could only be a huge oversized cock, the engorged base of the shaft hanging out of view behind the seat from a dense patch of sandy pubes, as thick as my forearm.!! I shot my gaze out of the window as he glanced over at me with a hungry looking grin. But looking out of the window was no good.. The bus stopped sharply at traffic lights..and a motorbike pulled up level with my window. Its rider donned in thick black and red racing leather and a black helmet with its visor down hiding his face. I nearly had heart palpitations... Even in his leather bike gear, i could see his muscles growing..! Huge biceps bulging and straining into massive boulders. Swellling pecs pushing out the front of his tightly buckled jacket,snapping the straps as they grew.. The cod piece covering his crotch bulging obscenely as his cock and balls grew visibly big,pressed up between his legs on a motorbike he seemed to be quickly outgrowing too. I even thought i heard his leather groan under the pressure. He spotted me staring at him and stuck his middle finger up before moving forward. A white transit van advertising a builders merchants slid up next,with three occupants. "This is too much!" i muttered under my breath. One young guy in a blue and white Nicholson shirt and burberry cap and smoking a cigarette,was resting a tatooed arm on the van door, unbothered by the fact that his bicep was filling out and ripping the short sleeve,growing into a huge mound.. The other two occupants were growing too,but i could not see clearly. The guy smoking his cigarette,noticed me and flexed his bloating bicep. I felt myself cum again.. The car in front..All i could see was the drivers arm sticking out the open window,thickening and ripping the shirt he wore. I had to get off this bus.! At the next stop, i squeezed past the huge latin hunk with great difficulty that made him complain, oblivious to the fact that he was the one blocking the space with his overgrown muscles. It was hell trying to keep my composure brushing past the boys huge heaving pecs and seeing his huge cock hanging low and limp over engorged balls at least 12 inches, then pushing past a shaven headed muscle man in a torn England Football shirt whose own huge hairy pecs were pressed against a creaking side window, his fat heavy cock hanging low and engorged between his meaty tree trunk thighs low past his knees. I pressed the bell urgently until the driver let me off.....and i ran home as fast as i could..to clean myself up and to take stock of the new muscle world forming around me..

iHi folks. A few members recently requested an interest in one of my old reality shift muscle growth stories. So here it once again for old times sake. RUSH HOUR MUSCLE Travelling on a bustling city subway train during a working weeks evening rush hour,can be particularly irritable at times,especially due to the fact that you've got to cram yourself onto a stuffy train carraige,overfilled with commuters who are just as irritable as you..and unwilling to yield enough space so you can squeeze in before the door slides shut. In my case..on my 25 minute journey home,i have to contend with mainly three types of commuters.: Office workers..often the most ignorant to allow me room..,dressed in their immaculate suits and shirt and ties. Construction workers..spilling in from the expansive construction sites developing the area as an upcoming business district...wearing their sand,dirt and cement stained t shirts,High Vis' vests and stained jeans and workboots..usually smelling of sweat and cigarettes.! And then there were the school boys pouring in from a 'well-to-do' All Boys public Oratory school.. 'St Dunstans' or 'St Duncans'..or something like that?. Loud,chattering boys ranging from 12 to perhaps 17, dressed in smart black blazers,white starched shirts,black and white striped ties and so on...some of these kids were small and looking dwarfed in ill fitting oversized blazers!.And then there was a mix of other commuters thrown in for good measure.. Just the normal daily evenings rush hour... but then, this Fridays rush hour was definately not going to be normal..! I just managed to slip onto a train just as the doors were closing,and work myself into a corner not far. Already,the carraige was warm and stuffy and full,but not as constricted with passengers as i had thought,although all seemed to be men,and though there was few hot mid forties Daddy types,the age range did not seem to exceed ,45,but i just shrugged it off as being coincidental that the old folks simply avoided the trains due to the warm weather and stuffiness of the subways. Unfortunately,i was'nt feeling particularly well myself,and i had been feeling unusually tired. I had an odd feeling in myself since the previous unsettled nights sleep..Odd in the fact that every time i caught sight of a buffed muscular young man,i kept on springing a boner in my pants with the slightest daydream or glimpsing fantasy, and i could feel myself dribbling pre-cum into my briefs,which made me feel all the more on edge. The train set off on its journey and i stumbled a little,gently bumping a handsome young office worker attempting to read his financial paper in the crowded carraige.."Sorry" i said,smiling weakly at him, and instantly springing another fucking boner!.He just raised an eyebrow at me and continued reading as i stole furtive glances at hints of a firm athletic physique beneath his black suit jacket and tight black suit pants that hugged a cute pert butt.His short hair was jet black and gelled into short spikes,and from what i could catch from the side,he had ice blue eyes and full lips...full kissable lips.. I shuddered as i felt my cock milk pre-cum into my moistened briefs,then tore my eyes away from him before he noticed. The train swayed again..and i glanced out the window at the darkness of the subway tunnel for a short moment. Then the headphones worn by a youth of around 16 or 17 standing beside me,rattled out what sounded like a Rap tune. I glanced at the youth. Cute. Blue eyes,snub nose,faint peach fuzz on his chin.Wearing dress code typical of modern British youth. Hooded grey jacket over a Burberry cap,white loose tee shirt,baggy black trackie pants and big white trainers. He caught me looking at him and curled his lip in a look of disgust,whispering 'batty-man'..an urban teenagers word for faggot..under his breath. The train stopped at the next station. A few passengers got off,several got on,including a trio of noisy school boys,perhaps around 14 or 15. All three were short,probably no taller than 5ft and likely awaiting puberty still to set in. One kid,a pale boy with ginger hair and freckles and dressed in as expected, a blazer that was obviously too big for him..and hefting a sports bag in front of him, gaggled loudly about his classes football game.I just peered out of the window again as the train doors slid closed and the train set off again. A few minutes passed when the train carraige jolted and this time, making the teenaged boy stumble hard against me as the light flickered briefly. The boy did not apologise like i had to the office guy.He just straightened up and glared at me with a menace that made me feel uncomfortable,even though i was in my thirties and twice as old as him. Our eyes met for a moment,before i yielded and glanced at first,absently to his chest.I had to tear my look away as i was stunned to notice his chest was firm with slender pectoral muscles lightly outlined by the tight fabric. I have a fetish about muscles,and big pecs in particular. My cock twitched into a stiff erection and i leaked pre-cum again. I could feel the youths eyes still bearing into me..and with the next sway of the train, he moved closer to me,about a foot away,as another passenger moved behind him to alight at the next station. I fought desperately not to meet his gaze but gave in. He stared into me and sneered again. I felt my mouth run dry and my heart pound in my chest as i glanced down at his torso..At the sight of his pectoral muscles seemingly thicker than before, and pulling the thin fabric tighter over them,accentuating the shapely curves even more. Thankfully,the boy was diverted by the train swaying and then pulling to a halt deep in the tunnel. But my eyes were fixated on his pecs. They were definately getting thicker and meatier,swelling perceptively under his tee,into deeply curved mounds.' How the fuck was this happening?' i thought.. The boy reached up a hand to adjust his left earphone and with astonishment,i watched as a sizeable bicep bunch and strain at his long sleeves,and the same action of raising his arm,pushed his growing pecs further out into heavier mounds of muscle,the nipples becoming clearly defined and poking out under the tightening tee. I was too slow to look away when the youth glanced at me. "You a fucking faggot?" he snapped loud enough for the office guy,the fit looking guy behind him, and the schoolboys to hear him. I went red with embarrassment. I put up my hands as if to feign innocence,and glanced around. Then i noticed the office stud..Sweet fuck,...was he beefing up too?He looked at me for a moment and returned to reading his newspaper.With his arm raised up holding the paper, i could clearly see a thick bulge of his bicep,even beneath his suit jackets sleeve.Like the boys pecs and biceps,his arm began to thicken and expand beneath the suit,and his shoulders beefed up and swelled. There was a snapping sound and i realised it was a button breaking off his blue shirt as his own pecs began to rise up and thicken like mounds to strain the filling shirt. I was in a state of disbelief at the sight of the youth, and now the office stud,growing ever more muscular by the second. I heard a grunt from someone behind the stud, and the sound of fabric stretching itself apart. The train jolted momentarily and i was drawn back to the youth..and his growing muscles,particularly a bulging chest that took up most of the space before me. The thick mounds heaved and pushed out further stretching the tee like a second skin over his mighty chest.I was sure at any moment that the fabric would rip apart as it strained for dear life,but incredibly it held, and really gave off the size of his pecs to shocking value,growing past the size of a pro bodybuilders!. The youth glared menacingly at me, and then smiled sinisterly.He raised his arms up to pull the hood off of his capped head, and i caught sight of the fat boulders of his biceps bulging obscenely in his overstuffed sleeves. What he did next,nearly made me come in my pants. He pushed his huge swollen pecs,apparently slowing down their expansion,against me, and pinned me into the corner. From out of view,i could hear one of the boys moaning as if he was in pain,followed by the sound of fabric seams ripping. Then.."Fuck,i'm growing" from one of the other boys..Not a tone of alarm,but more of delight..and i heard him swearing and yelling in glee. More grunts and groans and swear words rose from other passengers.Others were growing too. 'This is way too fucking freaky' i thought to myself,feeling a little claustrophobic,pinned in by the youths mountainous pecs.I could feel myself stiffly erect and dribbling pre-cum into my now damp underwear. 'What the fuck was happening?'. "You fucking love this,don't ya..faggot" sneered the youth,whose massive pecs were so swollen,that they pressed against his chin,his neck thickly corded with muscle. The train finally started off on its journey towards my stop. I had to get off.This was too much to comprehend.Yet a little part of me wanted to stay on the train and worship this youths huge muscles. As the train approached the station,the intercom from the driver crackled into life over the grunts and groans and obvious pleasures of this carraige full of muscle men. "Good evening..this train will terminate at ..." he broke off the announcement for a few seconds. "Fuck i'm huge..,sorry guys..i'm gonna have to terminate the train at the next stop..i'm too fucking big for the cab.." 'Shit!' i said under my breath..'Was the whole god damn train affected?' A few minutes later,attempting not to orgasm,i forced my way round the youths huge sexy pecs and towards the doors as they slid open at arrival at my stop.. There,my fears...or desires,were answered.Several huge,insanely muscular men got off from other carraiges.Their clothes,although.pitifully stretched to within an inch of life,and some torn at the seams in places..held in the huge bloated muscles..and then i saw huge obscene crotch bulges straining to keep in freaky sized cocks and balls, on each and everyone of the guys.. And the growth had'nt just affected the train.. Huge musclemen and boys waited and arrived on the platform for trains..They were everywhere i looked. 'Fuck' Was i in Muscle man Heaven or Muscle man Hell? I needed to get home fast..My cock seriously needed beating off..

Todd got out of bed, clad in just his briefs. He felt more energetic and stronger than he had in years. He pulled on a pair of running shorts, and they felt much tighter over his legs than he remembered. He couldn’t even get his shoulders into his favorite t-shirt, so he just tossed it aside and pulled on some running shoes. He was only vaguely aware of the new power and size of his body. The previous few days were both fuzzy and crystal clear at the same time. He clearly remembered his encounter with Evan, but all previous memories of his life seemed to have faded. He started to methodically lumber about his room, packing up some items. Books he was intending to read, an old guitar he used to play, the suits he used to wear for work, even his family photos and a box of mementos from college. These talismans from his past now made no sense to Todd, not since his hypnotic conversation with Evan. He gathered them all in a box and carried them out to the street. Except for thoughts of Evan, and a hunger for his cum, Todd’s mind was a total blank. He dumped his possessions on the curb, and looked down the street. Loitering on the corner was Miguel, a local thug who had mugged Todd a few months earlier. Miguel stood 6’2” and about 240lbs of solid muscle. He was wearing a thin tank top that not only showed off his intimidating muscle, but also the tattoos he received in prison. He was clearly trying to send a message: This is my turf. Remembering how roughed up he was after the mugging, Todd felt a rage rising inside himself. He inhaled, steeled his core and started to run down the street. He moved remarkably fast, but by the time he got to Miguel, his rage was erupting. He ran up behind the thug, and without even calling out his name, punched him hard in the back of his skull. The impact was so hard, the thug was knocked about eight feet in the air before landing face down on the pavement. After catching his breath, he rolled over and looked up Todd. “Get up, bitch.” Todd said in a low but terrifying tone. Miguel could see he was seething with rage, so he stood up quickly. “What the fuck was that for?” he asked, not recognizing the man he mugged a few months ago. But Todd was beyond conversation. He backhanded the thug hard, then spun around and caught him before he fell again. Todd now had him from behind in a headlock. He wrapped his immense bicep around the thug’s neck and slowly started to tighten his grip. “Don’t you remember me, bitch?” Todd said derisively. “I’m the faggot you roughed up a few months ago.” Miguel was gasping for air as he pulled on Todd’s forearm trying to loosen his grip, but Todd just kept tightening it like a cobra. Todd inhaled deep, and then pushed out his chest, lifting the thug off the ground, and even more power. Miguel was close to passing out, but Todd didn’t relent. Miguel was starting to black out. Todd’s bicep was cutting off all his oxygen, and the blood was rushing away from his head. To his dick. Todd looked down and saw the thug’s dick stiffening up. He laughed hard and said, “So I guess you enjoy a bit of rough play, huh faggot?” At that moment, Evan pulled up in the SUV. He calmly got out of the truck and surveyed the situation. He looked deep into Todd’s eyes and could see the rage in him. “Enjoying that new power, Todd?” asked Evan, oblivious to the gasping thug. “Let me end this, Evan,” said Todd, nodding to Miguel. Evan didn’t have to say a word, he looked at Todd. And just like that, Todd dropped the thug on the ground, then squatted down next to him, and whispered into his hear. “You see that guy?” he said, pointing to Evan. “I’m his bitch. And now, you’re mine. And this is my neighborhood. Don’t make me angry ever again bitch, because you wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.” Todd stood up and caught his reflection in the SUV. At that moment, he finally became fully self-aware: thanks to Evan’s cum, Todd now stood 6’6” tall. He lingered on his image as he heard Evan say: “315lbs of pure muscle Todd.” Evan walked towards Todd, and placed his hand on Todd’s shoulder. Todd’s massive chest was slowly rising, and Evan knew that he had only temporarily tamped down his rage. Practically frothing at the mouth, and his massive new body covered in a sheen of sweat, Todd looked up at Evan. “That’s a lot of power my cum just pumped into your muscle fiber, Todd. I didn’t want to trigger the transformation until I knew you could handle it.” “Yes Evan, I can.” “You’re my savage beast now Todd, I hope you realize what that means.” “Anything for you Evan,” he said breathlessly. He nodded at Miguel, who was still on the ground. “Let me show you. I’ll end him.” “No, Evan, but now I know your devotion to me is unquestioned.” He poked a finger into Todd’s thick chest. “You are my creation, and my savage beast, understood?” “Yes, Evan,” said Todd. Then looking down at Miguel, he growled, “You’re mine now.” And Miguel immediately blew a massive load of cum in his sweat pants. He watched in awe as a shirtless Todd got into the driver’s seat of the SUV. “Now let’s get back to the shop, we have a lot of work to do,” said Evan.

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I dug into the archive of the old forum to retrieve my old and only story I posted there. Here it is. I have a couple of ideas for the next instalments. I already made some adjustments, but read this as a pilot. English is not my first language. Sorry for the mistakes. As originally said, the story is PG-13. If something bothers you, let me know in the comments! Bottled Chapter 1: A first Taste Jack I was sitting in the park waiting for my friend Harry. He was aware of what was going on with my life and he said he could help me. I told him everything about my family history. I was 18 and had a brother two years younger. Our mother died a few years ago and our father was the only family we got left. My brother Edward was studying in a very reputed private school but it was expensive. So my father had to take a second job to provide all the needs. He became like a ghost in our lives. His absence made me responsible of the house but I never felt in charge. I accepted our fate but my brother was revolted. He never put any effort to make our lives easier and he became really mean to me. I couldn’t make him change his behavior. He wouldn’t listen. Fate made him taller than me, and he spent a lot of time at the gym. My position of eldest brother was crushed by his size and I became his servant. I tried to fight back without success. Our lives were miserable. So, Harry knew everything. There he came. “Hey man what’s up? I asked him. Harry was a regular young man like me. He had brown hair when mine was dark. He was wearing glasses that always slipped of his nose. When he sat, he put his backpack between his legs on the floor. — I’m glad you’re here, he said. — So tell me, why all the secrecy about this meeting. I could have come to your house or something. — No! he exclaimed. It wouldn’t have been wise to do that. My father must not know I’m giving you this. — “This”? What are you talking about? — Well, you know my old one is a scientist and works for this company… — — VittaMix? — Right. They have many projects going on but the one my father is working on is, how to put this, ironically perfect fit for your actual problem. — Wich is… — You dealing with your brute of a brother. I looked into the eyes of Harry and felt that he was a little too excited about his plan. — I don’t want to hurt my brother with any kind. — I know. He reassured me. We won’t do anything to him. But YOU can reach to his league. — What? How? Harry opened his backpack and showed me a transparent bottle with white liquid in it. And he explained: — This is a special formula that can make you better than a grown man in every way. — I… what? — It is specially designed to men; there would be no reaction if a woman drunk it, except maybe some more hair on her body, yerk! But on a man, this makes everything grow like a fertilizer. VittaMix considered my father’s researched but they actually thought this was too powerful and dangerous to expose to the world. Imagine a product that makes you the ultimate man. How could they sell more once everybody gets it? Well, they asked my father to find a less potent formula and he put this one on undetermined waiting. — And here it is… I told in a whisper. — Why do you give me this? He blushed. He felt embarrassed whit the question like I shouldn’t ask. — You’re my best friend. I don’t need this right know you know. My life is good, as normal as it gets. You lost your mother. And now you make your life miserable to help your father and your spoiled brother. It’s unfair. You deserve better, you deserve all this! He smiled at me with all his sincerity and I couldn’t find any words to his kindness. — Besides, he added. My father knows the formula, he always can make more. Even if he’d kill me if he knew that I know. Please take it and don’t tell anyone! — How… how can I thank you? — Just don’t thank me yet. Who knows what can happen when you drink it. — Wait, this isn’t safe? — Now, he stood up. I have to go. Just on last thing, you might want to put the bottle in a place cold. It’s up to you if you want drink it all in a big body eruption or more discretely like one gulp per day or whatever. Just call me when you do it! — You can’t just leave me with this! — I just did, bye now! And he ran away leaving his backpack at my feet. Inside, the white liquid was dancing in the glass bottle, which was surrounded by ice to maintain it cold. I had to quickly go home and put it in the fridge. I had no other cold place at home. It’s not like I had a secret laboratory under my bedroom. Lucky for me, there was nobody home when I arrived. Eddy was probably having dinner at a friend or something. He would reappear during the night. My father was as usual working at the gas station. I always feared something bad would happen to him. If some raider wanted, he would knock down my father easily. Ha, we were so alike. Never mind, I put the bottle in the fridge and went to the bathroom with a notepad and pen. I needed to measure and weight myself if I wanted to know how powerful the formula was. Height: 1m78 (not so bad) Weight: 58 kg (Damned skinny!) I didn’t bother about the muscle size. I had none. I looked at my naked except underwear body; I had some hair on arms and legs but not much on torso. My beard was a deforestation field. I looked away from the mirror, put my clothes back and went to the kitchen again. I had dinner on my own. And I knew what I wanted for dessert. The bottle was full. I pictured myself drinking it all and becoming so huge that I’d outgrow the world, like in some cartoon. That was too much, I didn’t want that. I remembered this was all about dealing with my brother. I needed to become the older brother again. Without thinking much, I took one gulp of the strange potentially killer portion and put it back in the fridge. I hid it in a way that you really had to dig in to find it. Nothing happened. So I went to bed. I didn’t even saw the note left on the fridge : “Hi Jack, I know you’re doing your best but… we’re out of milk. Help! Thanks, your dad that loves you!” *** In the morning, I woke up in my bed refreshed. I stretched out of the sheets and walked to the bathroom my pajama feeling odd. When my eyes caught me on the mirror, I had to take a minute before realize it was really me. My whole body was “manified”. First I noticed my hair had grown, my eyebrows were thicker, and by my beard! It was hairy! It made all my face look older, more mature. And the amazement continued to my body frame. Yesterday I had no muscle, now I could feel them against my pajama, shoulders broader, and I had pecs! I could see my arms were also bigger making surface when I flexed. My eyes went lower to see that my legs were now filling the pants much better; I could almost see the quadriceps even if the pants were baggy. I had to take my pajama off to a better look. My hairy torso took me by surprise. Dark and strong, not very thick but it was a good beginning. A measured me again: Height: 1m79 (ok I grow taller too!) Weight: 65 kg ( 7 kg in only one gulp!!) It felt good, I felt strong, more confident, and I made a proud funny face by looking under my underwaer. My brother was 1m85 and 81 kg at his best right now so I just needed to add… That’s when I remembered the bottle in the fridge! What time was it? Already 9:00! My father was gone for his other work, and Harry, Harry had a class at 8:30. Damned I ran down to the kitchen to make sure the bottle was untouched. But it was dry empty. Then I saw the note on the fridge. Someone must have confused it with a bottle of milk. How stupid am I? — No, NO NO! I screamed out. All I could imagine was my brother becoming bigger and bigger without anyone able to stop him. But then I saw another note that fell off the ground: “Hey douchebag, it’s been a day since dad told you about the milk. What’s up with that?” My brain made some time to react. It meant that Eddy did not drink the formula… but if one gulp made me like this, what was going to… ho my, Dad! To be continued... PS: If you read the first version of the story, you'll notice I made the formula less potent. Indeed, the father would have attained macro size and I didn't like it. I want my characters able to evolve and have a "normal" life perspective. But this concerns next chapter!

Hi DC area dudes. 30yo muscular guy here. 6’2” 205 right now at about 10% body fat. Would be good to meet up with similar guys in the area. Bigger the better. Mainly straight guy here with a thing for muscle...can’t help myself...

Hey guys, it’s been a while since the last instalment. Hope you enjoy! I had very little time to relax but was so thankful these two gods were here to guide me through this muscle worshippers dream. My hole was stretched open and was slowly dribbling Colt's superior cum out. I was laying down on the bed between these two hunks, completely overshadowed by their existence. I had to keep reminding myself that these two possessed more than eight times my meager body weight in muscle. That thought mixed with the thought that they could do anything they wanted to me was intoxicating. Both Colt and Ox were on their sides looking down at me, their big hands caressing my tiny legs. It looked like they could wrap their hands around my thigh if they wanted to. "Are you fading on us? We're going to have to work on your stamina little guy." Ox's tone had sofetned a bit now that Colt and I had come down from our climax. "After all, you still haven't experienced the bucking bronco!" I was a bit confused as to what he was talking about and it showed in my face. "The bucking bronco?" I said, nearly in a whisper. "Oh yes, I can tell by the way you look at our herculean bodies, this is something you will enjoy!" Ox said, "Athough, because I can tell you're weak right now, I am going to have to give you some extra support. You mind if I take him for a spin Colt?" Stil lying down, the spent Colt sat up a bit. His muscular body shifted up and his big pecs hung a few inches over his ripped abs. "Nah, this I'd like to watch. I don't think we've ever had someone quite as small as little Alex to play with. Our big muscles are a playground for the little runt." Colt bounced his pecs with that last sentence and lo and behold, my small cock started to rise again. Transfixed by the site of Colt's pillow-like pecs, I hadn't noticed that Ox had stood up to his full 6'10" height. He reached over and grabbed my body like a regular person grabs a peice of clothing. I was still tired but excited for what this muscle god had planned for my small, 5'1", 95 lbs body. He quickly manuevered me exactly where he wanted and suddenly the 'bucking bronco' made sense. There I was, straddling Ox's huge bicep, both my legs were stretched wide as my dripping hole continued to leak Colt's cum onto this hulk's gargantuan right arm. I was facing a vein-filled forearm that I was pretty sure had more muscle in it than I did in my whole body. I braced myself up against Ox's forearm as he brought his arm up in an awesome bicep flex. My whole body moved as the bicep between my legs grew twice as large and I felt my used hole stretch to accomodate this rock hard bicep. I moaned as I came to the realization of what was going to happen next, Ox was going to fuck me with his bicep. "H-how big?" I said with a wide-eyed expression on my face. I was hugging the huge forearm in front of me that seemed to dwarf my body. "This old bad-boy?" Ox said as he flexed a few times. My body jerked violoently and my hole was stretched by the vein on his bicep. "You'll get to measure them later but last time I got a runt like you to measure them they were at 32"." I gasped at the number. How was it that Ox had an arm so large? An arm capable of doing whatever it wanted to anyone on earth. "My arm is ready to fuck you Alex, do you feel it twitching?" I did. I felt the power in that arm and quaked with anticipation. "First, I'm going to provide a little more support," said Ox as his hand cupped my head. I was now sat on this flex arm, hand on my head, with my arms reached out and hugging the large muscular forearm in front of me. "And adjust this little guy." My cock was previosuly wedged in an awkward position between my leg and his arm but now it was free to run up and down the veiny forearm. He gave a few more test flexes and I cried out in pleasure. How was it that this god of a man was able to provide such pleasure with his muscles? The jerking was a bit more controlled with his hand firmly resting on my head, keeping me in place. Other areas of my body were less controlled however. Ox had doused his left hand with salivia and rubbed it all around my cock and his right forearm. This relieved some of the friction and sent me into ecstasy as he started to increase the pace. He brought his arm down from the 90 degree pose and had me lean forward on his forearm. "Yeah, you like when even my bicep dominates you completely don't you runt? Take a ride on a man's arm and feel the power!" Ox said with enthusiasm. THe flexing was now relentless, I didn't know where I was as my whole body felt like a can of paint being mixed in a paint can shaker. My hole was spasming as the sweaty bicep, mixed with Colt's cum was overwhelming my senses. "Tell your muscle god you like it when he fucks you with his muscles!" Ox demanded. "I love it sir, please don't stop! You are a god who deserves to do whatever you want with my body!" My speech was partially muffled by the big forearm I was leaning onto for support. My poor cock didn't know how to feel as Ox's forearm acted as a solid wall of muscle. I looked down and saw through my blurred vision that Ox was jerking his own cock off, excited by my moans of adoration. "Yeah, work that huge cock bro!" said Colt from the bed. "Please sir, cover me in your muscle god cum. I am not worthy but would be blessed!" "Ahhh fuck, seing your puny little body fly up and down is so fucking hot you little shrimp! You cum when daddy tells you to" "Yes daddy!" I yelled. My hole was stretched wide by this huge arm and my cock was aching for release as it rubbed up and down Ox's forearm. "Ahhhhhhh fuck! Cum you little runt!" I came in another violent orgasm as Ox showered me in his sweet cum. The ecstasy I felt was unreal. I was able to provide some level of pleasure to these gods and I felt absolutely intoxicated. My spent body colasped on Ox's arm. I had a little bit of time to rest before Colt and Ox moved onto the shower...

This is something I started working on today and thought I'd put it out there to see if anyone took to it. It's about a bodybuilding show with a difference and will just be a very short story if I get round to finishing it. Apologies if it's a little rough! THE SHOW “Here, buddie. Take this.” I reached out my right bronzed hand and Blake Woods popped a blue diamond shaped pill into the palm. I looked up at him in confusion. The left side of his mouth was curled into a devilish smirk. “I’m not saying you’ll need it. But it might help ... ease any nerves.” I looked at the mysterious pill and gulped. I’d come this far. What did I have left to lose? I popped the pill into my mouth and swallowed hard. “So, Luke King, are you nervous?” the staggeringly muscular male specimen standing in front of me asked. God YES. More nervous than I’ve been in my bloody life. “A little,” I lied. “You’ll be fine, bud,” Blake reassured me. His sickeningly handsome face softened, and there was genuine warmth in his expression. “Just think of it as a regular show. Don’t feel pressured or obliged to do anything you don’t want to.” I dutifully nodded at the muscle monster before me. Blake Woods. Twenty five years old and one of the biggest muscle freaks on the planet. His tits were humungous, his quads were obscene and all six of his abs seemed to be exploding through his belly in an attempt to escape. “You can just stand on stage and hit some poses if you like. And if you get bored, or you feel uncomfortable, just leave.” I wasn’t sure whether it was because a man as huge and God-like as Blake was being so nice to me, or whether his words were actually reassuring me, but I was starting to feel considerably more relaxed about the rather unique show I’d anxiously agreed to take part in. “Saying that, Luke,” he continued. “I, for one, would be sorry to see you leave.” Something fluttered in my chest. Was there any small hope that Blake Woods was flirting with me, or was he just this nice to everyone? “There’s erm ... just one thing left to do before we hit the stage,” Blake said. I was a little perplexed, but when he raised both eyebrows and signalled down to the one item of clothing I was wearing, a pair of impossibly shiny, blue posing trunks, I knew exactly what he meant. “As awesome as they are, dude,” he began, “you’ve gotta lose the posing trunks.” Oh God. There’s no going back now. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,” he said, cheekily grinning. He then shook his head and released a short laugh. “God, that was cheesy!” he added. “Sorry, bud. Maybe I’m a bit nervous too.” 300 pounds All American muscle monster and obscenely cocky poser extraordinaire Blake Woods nervous? FUCK OFF! I looked down at his brilliantly purple posers. It wasn’t just his muscles that were big. Blake was fucking packing. Hands down he had the biggest bulge of any current pro bodybuilder, and I was about to see it in all its naked, trunk free glory. Blushing through my bronzed competition tan, I nervously reached for the straps of my bright blue trunks. As I peeled them down my mammoth sized, vein plastered quads, my dick escaped the confines of the trunk material for Blake, and everyone else in the room to see. I was a lot harder than I thought I was, and suddenly exposed, I seemed to be getting harder by the second. Blake, who was still notably wearing his trunks, had a mischievous smirk on his face as he admired my increasingly growing hard on. “I’m not sure you needed that pill after all!” he teasingly exclaimed, still grinning at me. He reached down and whipped off his own posers, all the time his eyes were fixed on mine. If this isn’t flirting then I have no idea what the fuck is. I couldn’t keep from turning my gaze down for long, and when I did, my eyeballs almost popped straight clean out of my skull and on to the pump room floor. Whoever said bodybuilders have small dicks had clearly never seen Blake Woods naked. Pointing right at me was the thickest, hardest cock I think I’d ever bared witness to. No wonder he always looks like he’s shoved something down the front of his posing trunks. Little Blake? Not so bleedin’ little! Not fucking little at all in fact. I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes away from his enormously thick, juddering cock. It wasn’t just the size and thickness that was impressive. The shape of it was magnificent too. So many of those muscle worshippers and admirers out there in the world who lost their loads to pictures and videos of Blake Woods on a regular bases, and they’d never, ever know that he was also the proud owner of the most perfect shaped and beautifully sized cock. From somewhere, I found enough bravery to make a flirty joke with the now fully naked, competition conditioned muscle bull before me. “You don’t look so nervous there either, mate!” Blake’s mouth curled into a devastatingly gorgeous grin in response. Before he had the chance to reply, a loud voice filled the pump room. “OK, guys, two minutes before it’s time to hit the stage.” My stomach suddenly tightened with nerves and I managed to tear myself away from the huge, gorgeous, fully naked muscle bull before me to glance around the room. Four other well known bodybuilders of various size, age and nationality filled up the pump room. Standing around, pumping up, and preparing themselves to head out on stage. It might not have been the most unusual sight if it weren’t for one small factor; every single bodybuilder was now completely naked. A few meters from where Blake and I were stood, 212 class pro bodybuilder Anth “The Tank” Tucker was pumping up his insatiably huge, balloon-like pecs. Almost as wide as he was tall, Anth’s entire, bull-like body looked like it was about to burst at any given moment. Brutally sized biceps, blocky abs which distended from his ever growing roid gut and an ass so magnificently big it left the room ten seconds after he did, were all much loved features on this phenomenally size, late thirty-something American bodybuilder. Just a short distance from Anth, stood German muscle daddy Jörg Roth was with his hands on his hips, his naked glutes looking even bigger than they did when they were half covered with posers, talking to young Canadian bodybuilder Cody Watson. It was unique pairing. Jörg’s tank-like physique was bursting with deliriously thick, solid beef, while Cody’s leaner, six foot frame was packed with gorgeously shredded muscle, not least of all his infamous stomach muscles, which included six of the most insanely shredded and beautifully abs in bodybuilding. Jörg’s masculine, handsome looks, smouldering eyes and devastatingly sexy smirk made him one of the most popular muscle daddies on the planet. Meanwhile, with his ridiculously gorgeous, boyish looks, Cody has earned himself a legion of muscle obsessed fans. Most bodybuilding fans would trip over themselves to be anywhere near either, or most probably both, of these two contrasting muscle freaks. And completing the line up was infamous Australian muscle beast Ritchie “2 Guns” Lee, who was applying a last minute spot of oil into his freakishly shredded quads and tight as fuck, tummy popping abdominals. His semi hard cock sticking out in front of him for the whole room to see. The more he rubbed oil into his muscles, the harder his cock seemed to become. Even though Ritchie Lee’s biceps weren’t flexed, I could still see exactly why they’d earned him his nickname. Both upper arms were ridiculously thick and bulged to an almost laughable degree. I couldn’t wait to see them flexed and blown up in all their freakish glory on stage. It wasn’t just his inhuman sized guns that Ritchie was famous for either. He was known for his loud, extroverted personality, and even louder stage presence. Not only did Ritchie pose in the craziest, cockiest and most animated manner, but he had a habit of loudly shouting and bellowing out with practically every pose he hit. Every single bodybuilder in the room was in incredible, jaw dropping condition, but looking around, it suddenly occurred to me that, behind my All American monster of a muscle mate Blake Woods, I was the second biggest bodybuilder in the line up. “You OK there, buddie?” Blake asked, putting his large sized hand on the side of my obscenely huge right upper arm. “I think so. I mean, yeah,” I replied. “You’ll be fine,” he assured me. “Just think of it as a regular bodybuilding show.” But it’s not. It’s not a normal bodybuilding show at all. One of the guys working at the show, the only average sized, and clothed man in the room suddenly made an announcement to the six naked muscle freaks before him. “OK, guys. It’s showtime!” All of the magnificent bodybuilders started to walk towards the stage like a herd of docile bulls being herded into a ring and my stomach suddenly flipped with fear. Blake Woods ushered me to follow him, and my fellow muscle freaks. “Stick with me, Luke,” he adorably said as I nervously took my first steps towards the stage. Now there’s an offer. As I trailer behind Blake, I almost gasped at the rear image of his physique. I’d literally never seen a back as monstrously wide as his. Pound upon pound of thick, superhuman mass spilled out from his frame. And then there was his ginormous sized ass, which looked big enough to feed a small third world country for a month. The sight of Blake’s excessive sized bum meat cause my exposed, hard cock to fiercely jolt and judder. My stomach was doing somersaults and I tried to think about what Blake had advised me earlier. “Just think of it as a regular bodybuilding show.” “Don’t feel pressured or obliged to do anything you don’t want to.” But I DO want to, Blake. I want to do EVERYTHING that I’ve heard happens at this show. Everything I’ve heard and MORE.

Whouah it's been a while. Can't promise anything but I'll think about a continuation. My biggest issue is that I wanted to create a story where characters have storylines outside the muscle growth. By example about the dad. Where does he work, what is his typical day, social interactions. And what his transformation will cause ? I have some vague ideas. And if I come back to this story I'll probably change at least 20% of first chapter that I think is not enough subtle. Thank you for your interest.

So glad this came back!

As Justin bought his arms up and cranked down into a crab most muscular, the bashfulness that had made up his smile in his earlier poses had now completely vanished, and was replaced by the endearingly cheeky and extremely cute grin of a guy clearly enjoying showing off his hard, tight, phenomenally muscular body for an audience. As he hit the pose, everything tightened and locked into place. His rock hard, croquet ball biceps erupted through his onion peel thin skin, the striations in his impressively sized delts deepened, and two modest sized traps emerged on his neck from nowhere and bulged up to his earlobes. I suddenly wanted to know exactly what was going through my filming mentor Stuart Fox’s head as he witnessed this amazingly conditioned American muscle boy flexing and squeezing his otherworldly slabs of muscle through his camera lens. What happened next was something that no one, not even Stuart, with all of his assumed pump room experience, could have predicted. Out of nowhere, an excitable and brilliantly peeled bodybuilder in a pair of indecently shiny, bright yellow posing trunks, with a shaved head and slightly geeky but rather handsome looks at least ten years Justin’s senior, had rushed into view. Unexpectedly intruding on the filming of Justin Hughes’ posing, he stopped until he was standing right next to his fellow flexed competitor. With his right hand resting on one of his crazily feathered quads, and the left hand curled into a fist, he was blasting out his own incredible most muscular for the camera. In contrast to Justin, the guy who had just unapologetically interrupted his posing and roped him into a two man posedown, whether he liked it or not, was displaying the cockiest attitude on any bodybuilder I’d seen so far that day, making the whole scene even more surprising and humorous. As he cranked into his pose, the bodybuilder let out a short sharp, “TTTTSSSSSS!” sound, followed by a grizzly, “AHHHHH!” His nose was wrinkled and a massive, toothy, shit-eating grin was plastered on his face, which was now scrunched and contorted in the most outrageous and animated manner. At the unexpected arrival of this shamelessly cocky bodybuilder, excitable laughter erupted from the camera man standing to the right of Stuart, and a few other spectators around us. Stuart Fox looked up from his camera and was glaring at me wide eyed, with an amused grin as if to ask, “WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?!” and I uncontrollably grinned in return. Judging by the increase of his gorgeous smile, even Justin Hughes himself seemed to also approve of his new posing buddie. When the lads had stopped flexing, they both broke into short laughter and indulged in a short and adorable fist bump. “Keep going! Hit some more poses,” were the instructions that came from Stuart Fox’s fellow camera crew member. Although it was exactly what I wanted to hear, I couldn’t help feeling that it was exactly what these two incredibly conditioned muscle lads would have done regardless. An eager and wide eyed Justin Hughes looked at his new posing buddie, seemingly to converse with what pose to hit, but he wasn’t giving Justin the opportunity for any negotiations. He was already lifting both of his arms around the back of his head, and with another outrageous, “TSSSSSSSS!” he was sitting down on his midsection for what was undoubtedly the hottest abs and thighs pose I’d witnessed that day. As I stared at the image of our new unexpected filming subject’s midsection, I was almost tempted to bring both fists to my eyes and rub them in sheer disbelief. Protruding from his stomach were six of the most breathtakingly symmetrical, amazingly shaped and phenomenally cut abdominal muscles. Where Justin’s abs were narrow and small, his new posing partner’s abs were big, thick and blocky, like six cobblestones trapped underneath and begging for release from his tan tinted, oil soaked skin. THE GUY WITH THE MOST INCREDIBLY SHREDDED ABS JUSTIN HUGHES THIS FUCKING GUY RIGHT HERE! As the guy I had no choice but to nickname Mr Gorgeous Abs cranked down hard into his pose, showing off his beautiful stomach muscles which earned him his newly crowned moniker, his eyes jammed tight shut and an almost manic grin etched on his shamelessly scrunched face, Justin Hughes followed suit, and squeezed down into his own amazing abs and thighs pose. Although not displaying even half of the cockiness his new posing buddie was, or anywhere near what I’d been accustomed to seeing him display in pictures and shots of him online, the bashfulness Justin had displayed at the start of our filming had now completely vanished. Clearly having an absolute blast posing next to a fellow insanely shredded muscle freak, Justin looked physically incapable of faltering the proud but slightly mischievous smile which had emerged on his face. Following an unbearably hot and unbelievably cocky, “HOOOOO!” sound to accompany the final seconds of his abs and thighs pose, Mr Gorgeous Abs quickly transitioned into his next pose. Turned to his side, he brought up his left arm with a loud, “HHHHHSSSS!” followed by a loud, manic, “HA!” which caused a few ripples of laughter from some of his spectators, as his biceps erupted through his inhumanly thin skin. With that same manic, shit-eating grin and scrunched facial expression, Mr Gorgeous Abs was proudly sitting in a spectacular side chest. With far less noise and a lot less attitude, the adorable Justin Hughes was, again, following suit and hitting his own side chest pose. The image of Justin’s rock hard, perfectly round bicep muscle proudly popping through his drum tight, tan plastered skin was mind blowing. And with Justin turned on his side, I was, again, able to see some of the freaky lines and crazy striations emerging in his alien-like ass. My attention was quickly bought back to Mr Gorgeous Abs, who, still locked in his side chest pose, was now twisting his upper body from left to right, ensuring all of his spectators were able to witness his incredible flexed muscle in it’s full glory. As he did so, his nose wrinkled and his face scrunched further, and he let out more ridiculously hot hisses and cocky, “AHHHH!” sounds. Watching this slightly geeky looking guy completely steal the limelight away from an astonishingly conditioned and absurdly cute young muscle guy, who was no doubt well on the path to achieving pro bodybuilder status, it suddenly occurred to me exactly which of these two vastly different bodybuilders I was more turned on by. Although handsome in his own way, Mr Gorgeous Abs posed absolutely no threat to the impossibly cute Justin Hughes in the looks department. And, while still impressively peeled and just beating Justin in the most shredded abs department, there was no doubt Justin’s physique was winning in the overall conditioning stakes too. And yet, against all odds, this completely unknown, slightly quirky looking guy in shiny yellow posers, with his phenomenal physique, glorious nickname earning abs and, of course, his unbelievably cocky attitude, was the competitor I found myself not only drawn to, but so turned on by that, I was sure, if I was watching this very scene on video in the comfort of my own bedroom, my boxers shorts would already be lying on the floor in a sticky crumpled ball. Still very much in the driving seat of this awesome two man posedown, Mr Gorgeous Abs was turning his back to his audience, enticing Justin Hughes, who, without hesitation, followed his direction in hitting some rear poses. Once again, I was faced with the otherworldly image of Justin’s insanely striated ass cheeks blowing out of his indecently shiny, metallic blue posing trunks. Mr Gorgeous Abs’ next move was even more outrageous than the fact that he’d gate crashed Justin Hughes’ posing in the first place. Throwing back his elbows and turning to Justin to make sure he was following his lead, he then placed both fists on his waist in preparation for a back lat spread. Justin followed, but before Mr Gorgeous Abs completed the pose, he suddenly paused. His head was tilted and he was looking down in the direction of Justin’s freaky glutes. With Justin too busy readying his pose to notice, Mr Gorgeous Abs suddenly swivelled round to the cameras and his audience and, with a comical, “What the fuck?!” facial expression, he bent down and edged his face closer to Justin’s obscenely shredded ass. He then animatedly shook his head and, with an amusing and cheeky look, as if to say, “I’m not even gonna bother competing with THAT!” he made a quick motion to his right as if he were running away in defeat. Laughing along with the audience around him, he then returned to the side of Justin, who’d only caught half of Mr Gorgeous Abs’ cheeky stint, to finish his rear lat spread. As everyone around me laughed and excitedly chatted about what had happened, I stood there, shocked and amused at the hilarity and outrageous cheekiness of Mr Gorgeous Abs’ playful actions. I desperately wanted to share the moment with Stuart Fox, but, much like when Justin had first given us a glimpse of his phenomenal glutes, his face was still buried in his camera, and he was refusing to look up. As I intently looked at him, I noticed a small, almost shy smile was masked on his face. Even more surprising, I noticed his cheeks had turned slightly red. There was no doubt about it. Stuart Fox was blushing. The man who had seemed so confident up until that moment, and who wasn’t at all shy about muttering words like, “shredded abs,” “feathered quads,“ and “muscle tits,” was now embarrassed at the act of a bodybuilder drawing everyone’s attention to the freakishly ripped, line plastered glutes of a fellow competitor. This could only lead me to the conclusion that the man for whom my affections had suddenly grown even more for undoubtedly had a massive weakness for ridiculously developed buttocks and gloriously striated glutes. Justin Hughes and Mr Gorgeous Abs spun around to face their audience once more. Both of them were grinning wildly at the hilarious stint that had just unfolded, and possibly having more fun in a pump room than any two bodybuilders ever had, as they geared themselves up for their final pose. With the usual guidance of Mr Gorgeous Abs, both of the muscle freaks cranked down in unison into explosive, energetic most musculars. Mr Gorgeous Abs bellowed out another cocky, “AHHHHH!” and, in a completely brilliant and unexpected moment, Justin displayed just a very small percentage of the attitude I knew he adopted on stage. As his traps erupted and his marble hard biceps exploded through his skin, for a split second, Justin’s tongue cheekily popped out of his mouth. As they relaxed and stood upright to what was the conclusion of some of the hottest posing of the day so far, Mr Gorgeous Abs reached out his hand for Justin’s. As they shook hands and grinned wildly at one another, he then placed his other hand on Justin’s shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. An announcement filled the room for the middleweight competitors to start queuing up to go on stage, and both bodybuilders hastily headed away, leaving Stuart Fox and I to contemplate whether there was even the slightest possibility we’d witness a more entertaining display of playful, attitude packed posing that day.

http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/EyeOfUnicorn/173/98/312 Small roof top gym with letters, and a work out plateau with big machines.

Coach Peters

The first station is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14714-the-assembly-line/ The third station is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14745-the-assembly-line-third-station/ The assembly line From third to fourth station The Program wanted to know. Ted was still sitting in the vinyl-clad chair, that felt like a dentist's chair, and The Program still surrounded his entire head with a rubber mask, which extracted his most private memories and thoughts. All pain had receded, and his only discomfort was caused by his increasingly too small trousers, which were still soaked in the growth-liquid. Unable to understand living, breathing human beings, The Program wanted to know Ted's conceptions of perfect men. Ted couldn't avoid laughing. He chuckled, as wave after wave of pleasure billowed through his body, and he could feel how The Program rewarded his past endurance of the painful process. Perfect men? To himself, it was obvious, that a wiry and lanky man like himself would dream about Greg Kovacs. The addition of 10-15 lbs look much on a short guy -- like it would on tiny Tim or even a man of average height, like Mike. If a tall man, like Ted, would add 10-15 lbs it would be like a piss in the Mississippi. Ted dreamed about men of his own height adding MONSTROUS amounts of muscle mass: Like Kovacs or The Mountain, or Morgan Aste. Or Martyn Ford. Or more. IMPOSSIBLE amounts of muscle mass. The Program encouraged him to think as vividly as possible on his goals. He could feel how his wet trousers were quite painful now. His swelling, growing quads and hamstrings were trapped inside their prison of cloth: Quite painful now. Then he heard a ripping sound, and the painful entrapping pressure began to disappear. More ripping sound. Ripping fabric. Yeah, tearing that fabric apart. HULKING OUT! His quads and hamstrings felt free. YES, FREE! Free to grow further. Enlarge. Engorged. Legs of a cave-bear. Legs of a mammoth. Pillars of strength, carrying the world. FREE! A subtle signal. Subtle. Erasing any remaining trace of resistance to the re-programming. It didn't matter. It felt so good to grow BIG. And he could feel his calves appreciate the release, too. BIGGER. Wave after wave of pleasure. Wave after wave of the feeling of HYPERTROPHY. The Program. Changing him. BIGGEST. He moaned, and he bellowed: "YES! Becoming what The Program want me to be!" His entire body involuntarily spasmed and flexed. He felt pumped. He felt ... He felt ... The rubber mask let go of his head, and reverted to its original position above the treatment chair of Station Three. He knew what The Program wanted him to do next. Todd was still facing away from him, and began to walk forward and leave the platform of Station Four. Todd's intimidating back had obscured Ted's view, but he was now able to see the entire tunnel, and he could see Mike during the few seconds before the gates opened at the end of the tunnel, and Mike left for Station Six. Mike! His friend and childhood hero had been a brawny jock before the treatment, but now he was an incredible mass-titan. Ted shivered. Mass-titan. Ted wanted to be close to his friend, the mass-titan. The Program ruthlessly erased that thought: Todd walked forward and assumed the position at Station Five. Ted was free to take his station at Station Four. Ted was able to watch things looking like steel tentacles swallow Todd's hands and feet, but the purpose wasn't to eat him, but to assess his stamina and prowess. Todd pressed the steel-tentacles before him and over himself. He kicked and curled, pushed and pulled. An evaluation was going on. Behind himself, Ted could hear the lift lower itself, and the sound of someone, presumably Tim, having a seat. Spray-cans on rails sprayed a jelling substance on Ted's feet and legs. It felt good. His legs felt contained by the forming trousers. He became more aware of the sheer SIZE of his now powerful legs, and somehow tactical boots were forming around his feet out of that sprayed substance. The substance was thin enough to show every fibre, every striations of his massive legs, in a flattering way, but Ted somehow knew, that, despite its thinness, the protective value of his tactical trousers was high. It was supple, and allowed him to move unhindered, but in some places the layer felt thicker, in order to give more protection: His feet, his knees, his crotch. A codpiece coalesced, and his rod and nuts were protected. The sensation of the supple fabric pressing itself to his glutes, caused him to feel more aware of the changes in his body, that were still going on. It felt like wearing leather trousers. He moaned again. Super-hero pants. Space-warrior trousers. As befitted him. Him and his friends. Together. A team. The Program was picky. It obviously wanted his tactical trousers to be perfect, and it obviously wanted to evaluate Todd correctly. He didn't know for how long he had stood there, his quads pressing his legs more wide apart, his lats pushing his arms to hang out from his upper body in an unfamiliar, but pleasant, angle, the way Mike's arms hang out from his upper body. Then he could hear Tim roar behind him, in a deeper voice than usual: "Can't believe it! Yes, Program! Change me with the others! I accept every change! EVERY CHANGE!" From the sound of it, he wasn't tiny Tim anymore. * * * The fifth station is found here: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/14759-the-assembly-line-station-five/

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

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