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  1. I've been thinking for a while whether to tell my story or not. Finally, I decided I was over it. It took me some time, I admit it: I've been obsessed with him for more than a year and I couldn't do more than thinking about him, jerking off and walk imaging ways to pay him back. Cause this is a real story, this happened to me. My name is Diego. I was born in NY and lived there all my life. I got to move by myself at the age of 25 and enjoyed my freedom for 5 years living on my own, dating with no attachments and trying to meet as many guys I could. I’ve always felt an attraction for big muscles but I understood that when I was 15 and my parents decided that we were going on vacations with some friends of them: The Patalli Family. They came all the way from Italy with nothing except his little son Jason. After a year they funded one of the most important pizza’s restaurants: The Patalli Pizza. Mr. Patalli was much taller than my family —my dad was 5 foot 6 inch tall, and he was the tallest of all of us—. So Mr. Patalli was a good head taller than my dad, but he wasn’t the tall one in his family. At the age of 19 his little son, Jason wasn’t little anymore: almost a head taller than his dad so imagine how big was for me, I didn’t even reach his shoulders… And what shoulders he had! He ate like an ape but he wasn’t fat at all, he was one of those guys obsessed with training. So he runs every day, trained every day and measure his muscles almost every day. I was quite chubby back then —not super fat— just out of shape and too embarrassed to take out my shirt in public. Pijama party with friends? Shirt. Pool? Shirt. Beach? What do you think? Super Shirt! So our vacations consisted of three of my favorite things: Share room with another “kid”, go to the pool with another “kid” and yes… go to the beach with another “kid”. And to make things worse he wasn’t the same type of kid I was… no mister. He was the type of training growing hulking muscles type of kid. Awesome! I was not only ashamed of myself, I got to share every day with someone that would make me feel even inferior to how I felt. Where were we? Helllooo!!! Florida!! Living Hell! So there we were: at the beach. My mom and dad decided to go for a walk —Nice! Forget about me cruel ones!—. Ms. and Mr. Patalli left Jason and run to the casino or some other depressing place. And there we were. Young Chubby Diego and Big Stud Jason. And then I started to feel dizzy. Jason took off his shirt very slowly like those guys in the TV. Like pooling the flag of victory for all to see. As the shirt started rising I got to see his waist just a little bigger than mine but with no fat, his well-defined abs and then his wings… the biggest back I have ever seen in my short life. After he was done his chest fell like an avalanche. Two perfect pillows filled with muscles. —What are you looking at, fag? —he said and flexed his chest. Oh my god. That was it: I died. Just in front of me, there was the body I’ve been jerking to without knowing it. My brain said: That’s it, buddy, I’m getting out of here! Jason laughs and tossed his shirt before going away. I will always remember his huge muscle back while running. Every part of this body defined against the sun. Hard, shiny, amazing… Stop right there! Don’t think that that was all… It was far from being over for poor little Diego. Our parents had rented a single apartment for the six of us. So Jason and I had to share the same room every night… and how was it almost every night? Our parents went out to dinner, and Jason did almost the same with his friends… It was only me who stayed to guard our castle. Brave of me, isn’t it? I can hear you screaming: Looooser! You have your point. But wait! Don’t rush! Because there was this night… —Bye, guys! —said my mom— Have fun! The key locked the door from outside and there I was laying on my bed watching facebook on my phone just to avoid thinking about anything… especially that Jason canceled his date and was in the other bed… laying on his back and chatting on his phone… wearing a very very very short pair of shorts that left his huge built and long legs exposed in all their mighty. Pure horse strength… —Ok, little man, count —he said. —What? —I said. And before I could think about anything he took off his shirt and lay down on the floor just next to me to do an impossible amount of pushups… 40… 60… 80… I was about to burst into flames… so did his body. I looked at his rounded shoulders and triceps work like a machine. Up. Down. Up. Down. And grow grow grow and what do you think? Of course! Fucking grow! When he was done he stood up —he was not even breathing hard but his chest was like expanding on every single drop of air he took— and clapped his hands to said: —How much do you weigh, fag? —Are you talking to me? —I didn’t say that of course, but my brain did while packing his stuff before leaving… —Don’t know… 110 pounds? —Really?… —he seemed disappointed (I was too)—. Too little, man, ok come on… —said by opening his big arms. The most impressive arms I’ve ever seen in my short life (yes, I know I said this before… every part of me back then was like that: short). Did I move? What do you think? Of course not! I was dead! My brain was in exile… I was chained to that bed! But this wasn’t a problem for big and powerful Jason. He ducks by my side and lifted me like I weight nothing… even worse… he said: —You weight nothing… Kill me, God! And there I was in the play of a helpless princess… or a baby doll… or a potato bag… firmly held against his chest… my check was against it… and it felt smooth and strong and hard and hot… His biceps were bulging against my back… in a few words: I was feeling the strength of his body. —Count! —he said and started to squat while holding me. How many squats he did? Forget it! My mouth was doing something that my memory will never remember. My eyes were fixed on that chest by my side… and since then I’m number one fan of big chests. I do remember his muscles stretching and flexing, he was shining and tanned from swimming at the beach. He also was laughing. I don’t blame him (I love him, for Christ sake!). I would have done the same if I were him. Imaging being held by a man way taller than you and not only way-way stronger but filled with muscles and hard after an impossible warmup. I felt protected and afraid at the same time. His chest and shoulders were tight against my body and with every movement of his legs (legs that after that grew to be 2x their original size), I felt his biceps tensing. He was a man at 19 and I was just 4 years younger but a super small and chubby kid. I felt he could protect me If the ceiling fell. I dream awake about that many times. I imagined the two of us being in a small room, small enough so his naked chest had to be above me and then the ceiling would fell off… why? Who knows!! I only know he would raise his hands to hold it while his muscles would explode in size. —Don’t be afraid, little man. I have it —he would say smiling. Of course, you have it! You have the biggest body I’ve ever seen! I wouldn’t say that, of course! I would just look at his chest, shoulders and arms growing because of the effort of saving me from being crushed… A pure man. Huge. Strong. And bigger just because I was small. OK! Enough of the dream! Let's go back to that terrible (Who am I kidding? Wonderful) night… Jason ended his training and after that, he put me down and tousled my hair like the child I was. —Thank you for being my dumb-bell, fag—said and sprint to the bathroom. Clever. Wasn’t he? Dumb-bell! I would have killed you, Jason, if I wasn't the poor kid obsessed with muscles I was. Ok. ten years have pass from that. I was leaving alone and guess what? I was training. I was going to the gym three times a week and after two months of being unable to do a single pull up I did my first and my second pull up. Success! I was strong… ha! Forget it! Now I know what was I doing wrong… but back then I didn’t. I didn’t ask no one about a routing. Forget it! I was too shy! Or too crazy… I built my own idea of training… which was 2 hours in the gym!! Impossible long routines that had almost no effect. So that lasted for a while. I did grew stronger but there was almost no sign in my body. There was that unbeaten fat covering every possible muscle I could build. So by the age of 27, I was a simple man… not a kid anymore but not a stud neither. I was 5 foot 5 (Michael fucking Jordan, people!) and weighed 145 pounds… ok ok! Stop throwing things! Ouch! That hurt, mister! I was trying, for Christ sake! At 30 I discovered three things: how to do a proper routing at the gym, how to eat for your body to answer your prayers and finally and most important: Bruno. I got to chat with him once. We sent pictures to each other and that was it. He was a little bit taller than me, was fit like one of those guys that are fit by nature but don’t train to get better at it: fuck off, man! So I didn’t payed him that much of attention. But it seemed I was the type of men he liked. He asked me once to go out, and I said “sorry, can’t”. Bitch! Same thing happened a week after that and then he disappeared. Don’t get me wrong, I'm not one of those guys that want just a hulking man to appear and fuck their brains out. I mean, I would love that to happen but to be honest I was one of those guys that need a pervert on the other side. I remember once a guy, lets call it X. We sent pictures to each other, I didn’t like him but he did like me. And what did he said? —Oh! You are tiny! —What? —my dick answered. —Yes! You are super short! That was it! I had to meet this huge beast that was calling me tiny. I travel over there with the biggest hard-on of my life. And what happened? The bold one that opened the door was just 3 inches taller than me! Disappointment! I let him kiss me and touch me until I said: enough. And left him with nothing. Bitch, again! So, what about Bruno? At least from our chats, he sounded like one of those guys that are sweet and easy going. Laughing all the time and maybe a little sissy. I didn’t like that at all and sometimes it was even hard for me to stand. I was a single man that looked exactly like any other man from NY with better clothing. Ha! —Wanna go out? —he asked for the third time. It was a cold night, it was the cruelest winter ever and I felt lonely and wanted someone to at least talk to. —Sure —I said. We met in a cafe. Bruno had his hair short, like a soldier. But he didn’t look like a soldier at all. He was thin, he bent his wrists and neck too much and laugh out loud almost like my aunt does. He was cute but too sissy for me. He talked about anything, he told me he danced a lot and asked me if I liked to do some sports. —Gym —I said. —Oh, nice! I like big muscles! —he said with a perverted grin. Are you kidding? Fuck off! I didn’t want a fag to be in my place. We don’t look the same, we are not the same, we have nothing in common! (That was my brain saying). And then he added: —I do spinning! Spinning! That is for girls! I could tell I was 100% his type while at the same time he was 0% my type. Mr. Heart breaker with you, people! That was it for Bruno… or that was what I thought. I blocked him. Winter ended. Spring came again and parks filled with people running. I did that too. Every Saturday I went for a long run. So there I was running shirtless and a little more confident, I admit it. I sported at least some V shape, not too defined, not too big. Just a decent one. And guess who I stomp with? Daaa! Bruno! —Hey! —he said waving his hand while running in my direction. Ok, let's do it fast. I didn’t want for someone to see me with him. And then I saw it. He was wearing very tight shorts, those lycra ones. What could I said? He was thin… I mean fit. He was fitter than I was, not too much. Probably same muscles but much less fat… except from his legs… Horse legs. Muscles over muscles, like two legs putted together to make a single but strong one and defined… and on top of that the most rounded and built ass I’ve ever seen. I wasn’t that much fan of asses and legs… but FUCK OFF!! Sexiness from down to top. It was like he only trained (like mad) up to his midsection and the rest came just by nature. He was fit, but too thin for me to look at. But his legs… my god. I wanted just to touch them. There was this muscle above his knee that bulged like… like… like a muscle above a knee bulging. —What? —I said. Mr. eloquent with you, people! —Training a lot, ha? —he said looking at me (at my body actually). I wasn’t a model, not even near but let say… fuck me! Who was I kidding? This guy looked like a fucking god… especially his legs. —Same there —I said pointing at his legs. He laughed like a shy girl. —Spinning effects… —he said moving them like two tree trunks— Its hard to fit into some pants. Kill me, god! Kill me, now! —Really? —I’m a genius. —Hey, you blocked me! —he said throwing a sissy fist to my shoulder— And I liked you! —What? Really? Someone kill my brain! —Really. Ok, it was nice to see you! And then he ran away. With his huge legs making a wonderful job there, tensing, expanding, flexing. And his ass jumping and doing magic. That night I unblocked him and started chatting. —I saw you looking at my legs —he said without hesitation. —Yep —I was about to die! —Ha! It was nice. A few days after I got him naked in my bed. He was fitter than I was, but somehow you didn’t see that when he was wearing any clothes on. It was like he didn’t like to have muscles but he did somehow… stupid nature! But after I saw his legs once I couldn’t help to look at them even with his long pants on. Biggest legs I ever felt. Filled with muscles, flexing at every movement. Strong and powerful. —So you are into big muscles, ha? —he said and flexed his leg for me. I was in ecstasy. It was like fucking a horse that sounded like a girl. It was a little bit confusing but he looked like a real man at least from waist to bottom. And what a bottom!!! Each leg of him was two times any of my legs. —Too much spinning makes you grow, you know? —he said. —Fuck you! —I said rubbing his muscles over and over again. —Yes, please! And that was how we started dating. Dating Bruno was easy and hard at the same time. The sex part was easy of course. I just needed to see him naked to sport a club that he would be pleased to suck like crazy and after that, he would give me his butt for me to play. So, he was passive and left me the rest for my enjoyment. I loved it. The hard part was the “social” part. I didn’t want for people to think “Look at those gays”, just “Look a single man, just the rest of the man in the universe”. Nothing special, just a regular guy. But it was impossible with Bruno. Not because of his enormous legs which people never mentioned (Don’t know why or how or what????) but because of his… sissiness? Most of the time he was 70% manly 30% you know what… but there were some times he was 0% manly… and KILL ME, LORD! I WANTED TO DISAPPEAR FROM EARTH. So did I introduce him to my friends? Some, just some girls. Forget about my other friends!. Did I introduce him to my parents? NO WAY, MISTER! (or MISSES depending on the day). I couldn’t stand it. I was too embarrassed to do so. So no family, no friends. What did we do together? Fuck most of the time of course. Read. Go out from time to time. I liked a lot the way he liked me (I could even tell he was in love with me) but I found it impossible to stand that side of him. I wanted a man, not a girl. Hello!!!?? Ok ok… you know what is like. So what happened? I decided to do something about it. —Why don’t you go to the gym? —I said to him once. —To the gym? Why? I don’t like it! And besides that, what for? —Don’t know… —of course I knew—To build some muscles… you could use them… He looked me with that evil grin that I despised so much. —You can’t help it, right? —said flexing his legs like he did nothing— Are you that obsessed? I had to jump to feel that muscles on his legs, so I couldn’t answer that. I was to busy licking them. —Let's do this —he said— I’ll go if we go together! And that was when I jumped like a cat when you try to get wet. —No!! —I said on the other corner of the bed. —Why not? —he said and his expression went from happy to confused. —Don’t know… I don’t feel like it… —You are ashamed of me, ha? Ashamed I'm not as manly as you would like to. —Pfff, of course not! —I can see it, you know. I'm not stupid. And like that, we had our first fight. We stop seeing each other for two weeks. I didn’t even send him a text message. I was angry and confused. Then I think about it again and again and again (my brain was exhausted because of that much thinking) and I realize I behave like shit. —I'm sorry… —I texted him. —No, you are not —he answered. —Of course, I am, you idiot horse! —I used to call him like that. Horse. Man-Horse. Centaur. All things related to my favorite part of him. —I miss that… —Me too… —and without thinking about it I added— I want to go to the gym with you. And then it all started. Did you ever ask yourself: Am I gifted? With your body I mean. Like genetically gifted. I never asked myself that, until I saw Bruno training. He knows nothing about. He didn’t even like to do the exercises but somehow he was good at it. And to make things worse he progressed like crazy. March - Me 154.324 pounds, Bruno 170.132 pounds (Because of his legs of course) I had to teach him every movement and build a routing to fit his current muscle development. So let's make things clear. I wasn’t either huge or strong. I was training for more than 5 years and let say I could lift some weight. And Bruno? Nothing! Zero! It was like a girl trying to do it well for her coach. I mean: he had those monstrous legs that could split me in half, that would outrun me every time we would sprint together, he would never get tired, he could do endless squats and jump impossible distances. But he never trained his upper body before. The day after the first day he complained like a girl. Every muscle was hurting. He even spent the whole day in bed. I thought it was too much but he insisted and almost cry out when I pushed him out. Ok, Mister Weak! But when we reach week three he complained no more. He was even enjoying going to the gym. He still refused to lift more weight. —I like you being the strong one —he said. But besides that, he was gaining some weight, and it wasn’t any fat. April Me 156.200, Bruno 176.012 So by April that was the schema. He outweighs me by 20 pounds. But he was lifting the same weights. Doing the same repetitions. And at the same time, I was training even harder. I was lifting a lot (for my weight and size). It was on the end of that month that one night while we were having sex and he was down on his knees I notice the difference on his back. It was way broader and some muscles were starting to appear. And then it started to happen. Every day that passed muscles were coming to view. Big, rounded and defined muscles. He laughed out of it. May Me 155 pounds (Cruel god!) Bruno 190 pounds Ok… there was something strange going on. But fuck! I was kind of enjoying it. At the gym, it was confusing to see someone as defined and big as Bruno (he was now way bigger than me) lifting such small weight. But on the bed, it was like my dream come true. I had a muscle stud just for me to fuck. Gym started to become an issue though. I mean I was killing myself and he was not even trying. Not for real. He was just doing the exercises I told him to do. But his body was growing like crazy. His chest expanded like his back. His shoulders duplicated their sizes and his arms did the same. The most impressive thing was his forearms, they grew so much that it was scary. And then I fell. I started to do an exercise just for my forearms, and what happened? I got injured! Tendinitis in both my wrists. I had to rest for two months. What happened then? I realized that Bruno was getting taller. It seemed that his body didn’t have enough growing muscles, he also needed to be tall (Fuck off, god!). He was already taller than me when we started dating, 2 inches was a lot back then… but after two months he reached 5 foot 9. It was impossible. He was not only built like a tank but also tall as a tree (for me, at least). And what about his legs? For christ sake! They were even bigger than before! —I feel great —he said once squatting and flexing his muscles in front of the mirror. It was like looking a young bodybuilder preparing himself for the competition. June Me 150 pounds Bruno 212 pounds Even though we stopped training Bruno not only kept on growing, he was getting taller too!. By the end of June, he was 6 foot tall. It was like seeing someone inflate in front of your eyes. Not only his muscles were growing, but his back was starting to be almost as wide as the door, and his chest… OMG! Two stones put together. It was like his body tried to reach the point of this legs (with no success because those monster legs were out of any league). When we have sex I felt I was fucking a real horse just because of this size. I needed to ask him to extend his legs so I could reach with my dick to THAT point. —I can’t believe you still getting bigger… —Mmmmm —What? —I didn’t… stop training… —What????????? —It was you who got injured! Not me! —But you told me you didn’t like to go on your own! —Yeah… but I changed my mind…! I like it now. —I bet you do, bitch! —Who are you calling, bitch, you runt? And after saying that he lifted and tossed me to the bed like a weight nothing. —Ha! I love being strong! —he said flexing both his arms. He wasn’t just strong: he was strength itself. July Me 148 pounds Bruno ??? In July my parents invited me on a trip to Europe. I thought about that for a while and then I decided I would like to go on vacations for a while. I remember the last night with Bruno on his bed. He was laying on his back with this arms extended next to his face. It was a vision of power. That morning I buried my face in his chest and then took a taxi. We visited Madrid, Paris, London, and many other cities. It was a great time. And I got some time to recover from my wrists. When I got back to NY I texted Bruno: —I'm back! —I'm running! See you in the park! I changed my clothes and run like a schoolboy desperate to meet his bests friends. But instead of meeting my friend I got to see this huge muscle stud tall as a tree running towards me. It was a vision that everyone could see and was seeing and pointing and owing and who knows what else... How much tall? Don’t know! 6 foot 4? 6 foot 5? HUUUUUGE! But not only tall. Built like two tanks. Every step he made transformed his muscles from soft to hard in milliseconds. It was the vision of paradise. —You shrunk! —he said laughing when he reached me. —What? —again my brain. I was looking directly to his chest. And what a chest… Broad. Big. —I can tell you like it —he said stretching his arms so I could admire the size, definition, and size (yeah, again!) of his body. —Fuck off! What to say? It was a dream come true. I was dating the biggest, strongest, tallest of all. But the thing was this: he was still the same sissy guy, except he was two heads taller now and 250 pounds. It was more than confusing. August (lets stop this measure thing for a while, ok?) The first night after I got back we slept together at his place. And guess what happened next morning? When I woke up I was alone in his bed (his new king size bed, actually)… and then I heard him. I moved myself to his side. Right next to his bed there was Bruno… doing pushups… and he was counting. —94… 95… 96… 97… 98… 99… 100 And with a quick movement he stood up. —Hey! —said the huge piece of a man. —Wow…! —Ha! You like it? —said and flex both arms. Two big mountains erupted from his arms. —Are you ok? —I said. —What do you think? —he said and flexed his chest… —Wow…! —Count…! —he said and started doing pull-ups in his new pull up bar. What is it with the counting thing? Does every stud needs for a tiny friend to count for them? —Ok! —said my cheerleader side (kill me, god!) Guess how many reps he did… easy… one fucking hundred… And after that he was not even tired… —How much do you weigh, fag? —Are you talking to me? —I did said that— You know how much! —Haha! I know you were too little, man, ok come on… —said by opening his big arms. The most impressive arms I’ve ever seen in my not so short life Did I move? What do you think? Of course, I didn’t! I wanted him to lift me up! And so he did! He ducks by my side and lifted me like I weight nothing… even worse… he said: —You weight nothing… Kill me, God! And there I was AGAIN in the play of a helpless princess… or a baby doll… or a potato bag… firmly held against his chest… my check was against it… and it felt smooth and strong and hard and hot… His biceps were bulging against my back… in a few words: I was feeling the strength of his body. —Count! —he said and started to squat while holding me. He was much bigger than Jason when he did the same (I was starting to believe there was something weird on me that pushed muscle studs to do the same thing with me) and way stronger. —You like it —he said looking at my dick. But he was enjoying it as well. There is a thing I didn’t mention before just because I was to busy with the muscle thing. There was his dick “issue”. Back then when we met that thing was a regular 4.7 inches (little less than my 5.9). But now… it was… how to say it? huge? big? it was a 12 inches long python! and big as a club! So the squat game was done… of course, he did his 100 reps… and guess what!? —Let's go to the bathroom —he said still carrying me like a paper ball. He stepped in front of the big mirror that filled the wall and let me… sit in his huge dick. —Haha! There you go! Enjoy the ride, tiny man! How does it feel to ride my huge cock?! Haha! Look at me! I'm huge everywhere! What am I? Four times your size? Look at this muscles! Look how big is my chest! And my fucking arms! I'm a beast! I feel so fucking strong! Haha! Look at you, you are so fucking small next to my body! Do you like the view little man? Are you enjoying my muscles? I could rape you if I wanted to! haha! What do you say? Do you want me to show you how big and strong I am? How’s that? Do you want me to show you how strong I am? Do you want to see what can this muscles do? Oh, fuck, I'm going to explode. And by saying that he lifted me and he impale me into his cock. I let out a scream like I never did before. —haha! You like it, tiny man! That’s how it feels a real man! And he lifted me again and impale me (again) but this time I was facing his huge body! I placed both my tiny hands on his chest to say: —Please, don't! You are too big! —Haha! I know! I'm a real man! Take a big breath, little man! I'm going to fuck your tiny ass like a man! And he did! At least until I passed out! Life continues as it was… But there were certain things that change from one day to the other. The “me fucking him” idea was over. I mean, imagine a 145-pound person trying to fuck a 270 pound, pure muscles giant. Each of his legs was bigger than my two legs together and his ass was like two mountains right next to the other. I was dying to fuck him but every time I tried to move into that direction something like this happened: —What are you doing, little man? You think you can fuck this beast? —and he would flex some muscles to show how big and strong he was— Comer here, feel this —he would say flexing his chest right in front of me —you feel that? —So strong… —I'm a genius, I know. —That’s it, little man! I'm a fucking monster! So… do you want to fuck this body? —he would say while standing up— In order to fuck this body you have to beat me… Ok, come one, little man. Haha, you are so tiny! You don’t even reach my chest, anymore! Haha ok ok, lets do this! If you lift me once I let you fuck me. —Fuck off, I'm not going to lift you… —Come oooon! Don’t be afraid! I’ll be nice, little man! I know I’m fucking huge and I’m way stronger than you. I mean, you look like a kid to me. People must think I'm your big brother. Well I’m big! ha! Nah, don’t be afraid! I’ll let you win this time. So you want to fuck this ass, right? Look at it! Come closer, have a piece of it! You see the size of it? Look at these legs! Huge! I have more muscles in one leg than you on your tiny body! —Ok, ape! You have a challenge! —That's my boy! Come on, give me a hug! —he would say lifting me to bury my head in his chest. Then he put me down and stand up in all his might. —Are you ready? Come here, try to lift this body. So I did! I grab his legs, or at least I try and then I push with all my strength up… and up… and up…. and fuck off!!! Nothing! not even an inch from the ground! —Haha, what happens little man? Am I too heavy? Are my muscles to big for you? Haha, you are so cute! Let me show you how a real man does these things! And by saying that he would throw me into the bed and after that guess what… he lifted the entire bed with me on it way above his head! —There you go, little man! This is how a real man does it? Do you mind if I train some shoulders? And there I go! Down, up, down, up and down again. —Haha, that was easy —bed was back to the floor and there he was flexing his muscles— I'm to big, little man! Come here, hang from my bicep! He flexed his arm and I grab myself from it. He lifted me up and down just by flexing. —You see my power? I'm way stronger than you’ll ever be. He put me down and made me stand up in front of him (yep, and I was his fucking toy). —You can’t fuck me, little man. You are too small to do that! I'm way-way bigger —and with every word, he would take a step and I would move back… until the wall made me stop. He pushes his body against me. I was pressed between his legs and abs, and that python dick pointing to my head. —Haha, try to move me, little man —so I did with no success—. You can’t, don’t you? I'm too big for you to do that! —and then he would start to jerk off— I'm a fucking beast, little man. And you can’t fuck a beast like me being a tiny man like you. Let me show you how a man does it! And he would fuck the brains out of me. Again I would pass out. So what happened next? What do you think? He asked me to move together. I mean, you would say that for him I was just a toy, but I was his type even I was way-way-way smaller than him, weaker and blah blah blah (not funny). He really liked me. Question is: Was I feeling the same? Mmm hard to say. I mean, I could only jerk off thinking about his chest, muscles and those humiliation sessions that made me go crazy. I mean, he was a monster. Every time I was away from him I wanted to feel his muscles, to touch them. But when he was next to me I was kind of afraid, marveled and stupid. He was too big. Too strong. So he asked me to move together and I said no. Why not? (I can hear you shout insults to my little persona) He was a muscled giant, still, sissy-like hell, dressed like a porn star and talked about muscles all the time, flexed all the time. I couldn’t just let anyone sees me next to that. It was my secret perversion. I was too embarrassed. I wanted no one to know I was a fag for muscles. And what muscles! So, what happened? We fought! He punched a wall and made a hole through it! Jesus! Fuck me! And then looked at me so pissed that I was afraid he would kill me. —I don’t know why I still like you —he said and believe it or not, he started to cry. He packed his things, dressed like a gorilla with a swimming suit and closed the door never to come back again. So life kept going… still… six months later I was single… and happy… I recovered from my injured and went back to train in my gym (every day I thought I might see Bruno again training his mighty body, but that didn’t happen). So I just had wet dreams about him. Think about him. Jerked off thinking about this body. And every time I would fuck someone I would close my eyes thinking about his legs and ass. And now you are asking: did you ever see him again? Oh yes… I fucking did. I got to travel to hell again. My parents rented a place in Florida and there I was. Alone at the beach. Just walking. I was dressed in a nice white shirt and a very nice red shorts. In a few words: sexy. And then I stopped. There, sat in a cement seat was this back… this wall of muscles… It was so big and strong that I had to move closer. I left the sand behind and as soon as I stepped onto the sidewalk I heard him calling: —Diego! —said Bruno— Hey! He didn’t stand up, but even in the seat he was a good head taller than me. I started to feel dizzy. —What? —there was my brilliant brain doing his trick. —Hey! Wassup? Come here! —he said, so I did— How are you? You look great! —Thanks… you look… ahhh —Big? —What? —Haha! Just joking —but he was big, way-way bigger than before. His arms looked like cannon balls and his chest was so wide like a king size bed with two big pillows on top of it! His shoulders were bigger than my head and his legs were so long and filled with muscles. Every part of him looked strong. —So, you kept training? —Haha, what do you think? —he said and flexed his arms. Biceps the size of my head erupted in front of me. —I followed your advice and started to take training seriously. —I can tell. —Haha! I grew like a weed! I think I fell in love of being big, you know. —Yep, I know. —Do you? —he said mocking—Haha! Just joking, you look good too! Are you still training? —From time to time, but I'm not as gifted as you though… —Gifted? me? You never said that! —Well, now I think that. Who do you know that could grow that much in such a short period of time? —Did I grow too much? —he said smiling and tousling himself. Doing that exposed all the size of his bicep for me to watch. —Well… Yeah… maybe… I mean… who grows up to 290 pounds? —290? Haha! You are way outdated, little man! I'm a 360 muscle beast! —and again the flexing bicep thing. —What? —cause, of course, my brain stopped working again. —Haha, you are drooling all over my muscles, man! —Well… you have muscles everywhere… hey, I was thinking… I mean, If you would like to go out some time that would be nice… But then a shadow covered me. —I'm done! —a man said from behind. I turned around just to find a huge and tall black muscle stud a few centimeters from me bare-chested and built like a black horse. I only reached his upper abs, so his wide chest was above my eyes. I looked him in the eyes and smile back. But then something strange happened cause this giant lifted his eyes up like following a mountain. —Let's go then —Bruno said. I’ve noticed he was bigger. But I couldn't measure how much bigger he was. Until he stood up. I was in between this two muscle men. But while the black one was huge, Bruno was way beyond that. For you to understand I was face to face with his dick… the black man just reached to his chests so next to Bruno he didn’t look just small, but also thin. Bruno's muscles expanded as he stood up. He was like a supergiant heavyweight bodybuilder. —This is Diego, Diego this is Africa. Africa? Well, he was big as Africa to me. —Diego? –Africa said— You didn’t tell me he was this small. What??????? —Haha! Well I wasn’t this big back then. But this little man is the most obsessed guy with muscles that I ever met —and then he looked at me and to do so he bend a little to look over his chest— Am I wrong? —What? —I did said that. —Haha! Don’t take it bad! Its ok to like muscles! I like them too! —and he flexed his mighty chest— How’s the view from down there, little man? Am I too big? You don’t even reach my abs anymore! But you can still look at my legs, you used to think they were big! Look at them now, each of them are bigger than your whole buddy! Ha, Im just kidding! Are you ok? You look a little pale! What is it? Are my muscles to big for you? I though that you would come in your pants just by seeing these muscles! Do you remember when I rape you? Could you imagine now? I would fucking kill you! You are like an ant for these muscles! I'm way bigger and stronger! –and then he raised his arms to stretch himself all his huge muscle body— I love to be big. I'm just too much man for you, little man, you know?. Its a pity you didn’t grow. I like you but you are too small for this body. But believe me, my cock is way-way bigger than before and not only that. I like to fight now, you know, —to mark his words he flexed all his body—. I need someone who can challenge me, at least for a while —and he winked to Africa—. I love to fight for sex and I'm way out of your league, Im too strong, to heavy and too much man to be with someone as tiny as you. No offense, im just too big. You see? Some people are just gifted like me tall, strong and filled with muscles. Some others are not. See you, little man. And he tousled my hair and walked away with Africa. I just stood there after coming in my pants, looking at the biggest stud I’ve ever seen in my entire and long life. If that black man was Africa, Bruno’s back was Europe and East Europe altogether, filled with mountains of muscles and strong as all their man together.
    12 points
  2. You’re Fired! Custom story request from a supporter on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/MuscleNexus. I released it a few months ago there, but I wanted to post it here for all of you as well. Thanks for reading! Tags: SFW, muscle growth, forced growth, getting hairy, “You’ve got ten minutes to pack up your stuff and get out of here. You’re done doctor!” “No, no, no. You don’t understand. I’m so close!” Dr. Owen Nex stammered. “This work will change your military. The world even.” Owen’s boss leaned in close, his coffee breath puffing into the lanky scientist’s face. “If I had a dollar for every plucky PhD that told me his idea would change the world then I would have enough funding for your project. But that’s not the case. Months of work and almost nothing to show for it. You’re done.” The general turned briskly and stomped away. Owen opened his mouth to protest, to yell to the hulking man quickly retreating down the corridor, but then he let it shut. He was done and his dream would never reach fruition. He looked around his lab. notebooks, tubes, and large genetic material processing machines littered the cramped room. “So close,” he whispered to himself. He picked up a crate that had come that morning. PURIFIED OX DNA it read in bold letters on the side. It was his last desperate attempt to make his ‘super-serum’ work. The serum had been his obsession since high school. He was always skinny, puny in fact, and he hated that. But he hated lifting weights more. He knew that even the best steroids required weightlifting and a high calorie diet, so it was his mission to create a new kind of steroid that could bypass all that. Promising results during his PhD research netted him a contract with the government. A contract that was now expired. The crate was empty, he had tossed the ox DNA into the synthesizer with the rest of his half-baked serum - a final move that had ended once again in failure. He tossed some notebooks into the crate along with some personal items and turned to leave the lab and his dream forever. “Ding!” The synthesizer lit up and the cover slid open. A small cuvette of red liquid slid out. It was property of the government now, Owen thought. Not like it would do anything anyways… “Fuck the government.” He took his water bottle out of the crate and emptied it into the drain. “They get nothing,” he said to no one in particular as he dumped the red liquid into the bottle. “This is mine.” Owen dropped the crate into the trunk of his car and screeched out of the parking lot. “How was work?” Owen’s boyfriend Greg asked over the car’s bluetooth. “I got fired.” “WHAT!? Those assholes…” Greg was silent for a second. Come on home babe, I was just about to go for a run, but I can wait for you.” “No go. You know I don’t like running anyways. Besides, it’s raining” “Fine, but we’re going out when I get back. You know I can’t stand you sulking around the house.” Owen grunted his approval and hung up the call. By the time he pulled into the small bungalow that him and his partner shared the sun had begun to set and the rain had stopped. He popped his trunk and stepped around the car to retrieve his things. The air smelled metallic, electrical. Owen let the crate thud onto the kitchen table. He wasn’t going to pay attention to it anytime soon, he thought, broken dreams could wait. He pulled a bottle of beer out of the fridge, snapped the lid off, and settled on the couch. Not long after he heard the front door click and Greg came stepping in.”I’m drenched!” He called from the other room. Owen didn’t look up from his beer, “hey Greg.” “Ooh a beer sounds good,” Greg said, motioning to the beer cap on the counter. Let me get dried off and hydrated and I’ll come join you. Owen heard his boyfriend rip a few paper towels off the roll and the tap come on. “That was a good run,” he muttered to the living room in between sips of water. “I know it’s not really your thing, but maybe you could come with me someday?” “Maybe,” Owen answered. “Or maybe we can start going to the gym!. I know you’ve got a thing for muscular guys. It’s tragic that you ended up with a beanpole runner like me. That’ll never change, but it might be fun. What do you say?” “No.” “Oh okay.” Greg wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. “I’m still sweating like crazy, I’m going to have a shower.” Owen didn’t answer so Greg put the empty water bottle down and headed upstairs. He began panting as he made his way up. “Must be really winded from that run…” He thought. The stairs creaked under his footsteps, each one slightly louder than the last. “Damn, when did I get so out of shape?” He pulled the collar of his t-shirt, it felt tight on his neck. He noticed with his arm reaching up that his sleeves were also unusually tight, the material rode up his arms. “What?!” He hissed to himself as he looked at his arms in front of him. The back of each arm and hand were covered in matted dark hair and thick corded veins. His forearms bulged meatily in a way that was totally foreign to him. “Gah!” He grabbed his thickening, hairy arm and made a few lumbering steps into the bathroom, barely noticing the loud slaps of his larger feet. He slammed the door and quickly locked it before staring into the mirror. “Woah.” Greg held on the counter to keep his balance. He was definitely bigger. But how?! His eyes moved up his torso. His shirt was pushed forward tightly by thick abs with slab-like pecs overhanging them. They were still pushing out, creating a meaty shelf with a deep hairy crevice between them just becoming visible at his straining collar. He felt the material of the shirt straining as his back widened and his shoulders slowly throbbed into beefy boulders. Each sleeve cut into his ballooning biceps and triceps, making the bicep vein on each arm pop even more. He shut his eyes and grimaced as he heard the fabric begin to tear. He gasped in relief as the shirt finally fell away, in shreds. Breathing heavily Greg fixed his eyes on his hulking body. Each pec looked thick and full of hard muscle. They were covered in the same dark hair that he noticed on his arms. His jaw was also darkened with a short dark beard. He moved his arm up to rub it, grazing his thickened neck in the process. “What the fuck….” He grumbled in a deep, powerful voice. He then noticed that his running shorts had also fallen away in shreds. His briefs strained thinly over his mighty legs and ass. Already decent sized from years of running, his calves had thickened to immense proportions, each muscle easily bigger than his head, covered in thick veins and even thicker hair. He cupped a meaty pec in his hand and gave it a flex. The muscle bounced powerfully under his palm. “Oh shit….” --- Owen set the empty beer bottle on their coffee table and shut his eyes. Greg was taking a long time in the shower. He got up to get another beer. He cracked the cap off and let it tumble onto the kitchen table. It landed on it’s side and rolled until it clinked off the metal of Owen’s water bottle from work and fell on its side. Owen’s eyes narrowed at the bottle. It was uncapped, empty. “Oh shit.” Owen leapt up the stairs two at a time. Before pounding on the bathroom door. “Greg?!” There was no sound of water running, just heavy breathing. “You okay?” “Yeah.” Owen recoiled at the deep brutish sound from the other side of the door. “How about you let me in? What’s going on?” Silence, only punctuated by Greg’s heavy breaths from the bathroom. Finally Owen heard the click of the lock. He opened the door slowly. He smelled Greg before he saw him. A dense musky smell that frightened the small man and aroused him. Then he was face to face with two of the most muscled tree trunk legs and thickest muscle gut he had ever seen. He looked up to see his gargantuan beast of a boyfriend. The enormous man’s head almost brushed the ceiling, his dark dense beard tangled with his chest hair as he struggled to look over his pecs and gut to see his tiny boyfriend. “You did this,” he boomed at the small scientist. “Yes,” he gulped. “I mean no. I don’t know! What the hell Greg?” He stammered for words, half noticing the throbbing tent forming in his pants.”What are we going to do? You’re a monster! Oh god, I’m so sorry.” Greg half smiled, half sneered. He crouched down, making his massives calves flare out even bigger and coming eye level with his boyfriend. “It’s not so bad.” He moved an arm next to Owen’s head and flexed it tightly. He watched as the muscle balled up into a massive mound bigger than Owen’s head. Owen’s heart leapt into his throat as he caught the sharp smell emanating from Greg’s hairy pit and felt heat radiating from his massive veiny biceps. “In fact,” Greg growled playfully into Owen’s ear. “I want more.”
    6 points
  3. Remember, you came to me. I asked you when you first came to my door, pale and sweaty with anticipation and need. I said to you “Are you certain?” and you nodded, tears in yours eyes. You had a hand full of money and a head full of desires and urges that you, in your state then had no way to fill. You were small then, a tiny insignificant speck in a world that didn’t whether you lived or died. It didn’t care because it didn’t even acknowledge your tiny existence. You were a speck. Unloved, unnoticed and unimportant. All your life you had wanted to be something more, something bigger. You had wanted to make your mark on the world and trumpet your cause, your existence. A purpose. You tried many things over the decades that brought you here. You joined social groups and went online to feed your desires. You met up in hotels and conferences and played all the games. You listened to all the tapes and read all the fantasies and stories you could. You ate it all up and it sufficed, for a while. Then the hunger caught you again, that gnawing rapacious sensation that void aching to be filled by…something. You didn’t know or care but you still sought it. It started to encroach on your every waking moment. It was merciless in it’s tenacity and you kept feeding it’s gaping maw. Every day, every night you found little moments of pleasure. A clip here, a story there. Every day you continued to dig, to forage in your grubby little world of self-discovery and self-loathing in equal measure. You couldn’t help yourself. This obessession had taken you and you obeyed it’s whims and whiles willing. One night, in the quiet dark times before the sun’s rays caressed your computer screen, where you were still poised like a techno hunter waiting for some fresh game to come along. You happened upon a link that brought to a site that brought you to another site, that provided a link that gave you a phone number that you eventually found an address. It brought you to me. Do you remember what you said to me? How you begged? I told then it would have a cost. You said you would pay it, whatever it was. You said there was nothing in your life you weren’t prepared to give up willing for what I could give you. With that stated I stared at you, sat there in the big chair by my fireside. I smiled at you and I’m sure the light from the fire’s glow was reflected in my eyes. You flinched a little at this. I smiled some more. You told me of your life, quiet, horny and lonely. You told me what you had spent on your needs and wants and how much you were willing to spend. I could see you sat there in the firelight, a small bulge in your trousers expressing in a way without words how much your desires affected you. I asked you to give me details and made some cursory notes on a pad on the table. Not that I needed to of course. I already knew what you wanted. What you craved in the darkest moments of your most fevered dreams. You wanted all the pain to go away. All the hurt and suffering in your life, all the want, all the need. All the guilt. You wanted to see the world through innocent eyes again, not to be so inside your head as you put it. You wanted a life more physical and less cerebral. A life where all your cares and woes would be washed away, gone. Just like that. A world where you hadn’t been bullied at school and been a bully in return when you went to college. A world where you hadn’t been in a loveless, sterile marriage that had ended up just hurting the both of you because you hadn’t the nerve to admit what was really the problem. A world where you didn’t have any sordid little secrets and perversions that you thought would be held against you even though the world being what it was could really care less about you either way. You want a world where your dreams can come true, as I said. A world without pain, without suffering and without shame. A place for you to build a dream of lust and a place dedicated to your pleasure and your own needs. A selfish world to be sure. Not an impossible one. Many people do it but they do manage to pop out every now and again and remain a member of the human race. Not you. This is not what you want. So I steeple my fingers in the firelight and lean forward from the shadows my eyes glowing once more in the firelight. “Are you ready ?” I asked you. You nodded meekly and swallowed hard. “Then, let’s talk desire.” I smiled again. I look at you now as see what and who you have become. Do you remember what you were when I had you sat before me when I said… “Are you ready?” You nodded like a supplicant waiting for a blessing. You licked your dry lips and stared up at me through your weaselly boiled egg watering eyes. You swallowed the fear back in your mouth. The bravest thing you did and the thing that made me decide that maybe you were worth a second glance at. I stared deep into your soul and really saw the aching yearning desire you have. It was pure need and lust. You wanted to be freed of your mental and physical shackles but, ironically would be willing to taking on more bindings of a different sort. “I think then we may have an accord.” I said. My deep masculine voice reverberated around the room seeming to cause the flames in the fireplace to flicker slightly. You looked around nervously and then back at me as you wiped the sweat from your brow. I caught you hand quickly before you had a chance to bring it down again and trapped your fragile claw in my hard, calloused paw. It was as if you were a child, your hand was thin, frail and almost translucent it was so pale. Even though your pulse was erratic in fear I could feel your essence and knew that you were ripe for the change. I would be able to turn you easily. “Stand.” I commanded. You did so swiftly and nervously with me still holding your hand. “Are you willing to serve? If I gift you as you wish so fervently will you serve me in return and pay my price?” “Y—es, Yes sir. Anything. Anything you ask.” You breathed. “Take off your clothes.” I said in that same tone. You went pale and looked at me a moment as if trying to decided whether to flee the room back into the night where you had been only minutes before. You even glanced to the closed dark wooden door as if weighing up the odds before my strong arms clamped down on your shoulders preventing it. You stayed, not that I would ever have stopped you fleeing. You got this far on your own you must do the rest of it on your own too. You started to disrobe. First your light Jacket, as faded and worn as you were. Then your sweater and tie. Placed neatly on top of your Jacket. Then the inner vest that revealed the pale almost eel-like body underneath, barely any hair and perspiring in fear. You undid your belt and then slipped off your brown loafers placing them under the chair. With that down you shuck your trousers revealing again the pale, slim body underneath. This left you in your socks and your baggy underwear. You paused a moment and looked at me. I raised an eyebrow and nodded once at the underthings and you took off your socks and then your baggy briefs. You placed them very tidily on top of the pile and stood there shivering slightly in the warm room. You looked down at the floor and ashamed of yourself and covered your manhood with your small hands. I shook my head once hinting that you put your hands by your sides. You obeyed, revealing your manhood, your essence, your cock. It was surprising large. I know that you had used it well and often in your life, giving pleasure to your few real partners and eliciting surprise from the ones you paid for. This was the one thing in your life apart from your intelligence you could do something with. Your explorations into desire had taught you well. This pleased me. I could feel that dark energy running through you. The essence of the man you wanted, no desperately needed to be. It was a good 7 inches in length and was cut as is the way in this country for many men. It had a good weight to it and despite your fear it had a small drop of pre-cum just peeping from the little slit. A seed of the dream to come maybe. This would all be up to you. “Turn around. “ I said. Taking in your slumped shoulders and back. Your almost flat buttocks and stick-like legs finished off the picture. I placed my hands on your shoulders, you could feel the strength in them, the roughness of them and the heat radiating from the palms. You stopped shuddering. I placed my lips close to your left ear and you could feel my breath and felt my chest, shirtless as it was pressed against your back. I know you had a hard on in that moment. I could feel your heartbeat quicken and felt your lust and need grow quickly. This was good, this was fuel for the fire. On that thought I whispered in you ear. “Throw you clothes on the fire.” “See them burn and realise this is the end of the person you are now at this moment. By the time they are consumed so will you be.” You picked up your clothes and shoes and walked to the blazing hearth. Slowly piece by piece, one by one you dropped them into the opening. The firelight reflecting off your skin and your erection never receding. We stood there in silence for a moment looking into the flames as they consumed your former life. “Come back to me and turn to the fire.” I said. You complied and turned once more to stare into the flickering, golden firelight. I came up close behind you once more dropping my own garments and standing behind you totally naked. I towered above you. Thick, strong and massively muscular. “Stare deep into the flames.” I whispered. “And place your hands on your cock.” I commanded you again. “I want you to see yourself. See yourself within the fire. Imagine it holds the key to your dreams and needs. It can grant you all you desire and so much more, but you have to want it.” I called your name quietly as you gazed rapt and entranced by the dancing fingers of fire. Red, yellow, blue and light. All the colours flickered and reflected on your body. “See the change. Do you see it?” I asked. “Yes…I see it.” Came your quiet reply. So far away and distant but certain. “All you have to do is bring it out of the fire.” I said. “Let the heat come to you, draw it into yourself and become one with it.” I said. You continued to stare and I heard your breath catch for a moment. You were ready. I reached down and grabbed my own impressive cock. “Now I think we’re ready.” I said as I spat into my hand and rubbed it on my hardened member. It’s 10 thick, glistening ready and willing. “Lean forward.” I said. “Change is pain boy.” My voice dropped even more and became darker. “And this is gonna hurt.” I plunged my cock into your tight, unyielding hole. I know that it almost felt like it was tearing you in two but it didn’t. You felt both the pain and pleasure of it. This was what you wanted, what you needed and desired above all else. This was the price. You screamed into the hand I had placed around your mouth, the other on your shoulder as I slowly drew out again before slamming back in once more, up to the hilt leaving you with my entire cock inside you. I paused for a second and then repeated the same movement. I stared to get a rhythm slowing deep dicking you there in front of the fire. You screamed and whimpered into my hand and I know you were hard as steel. Your own cock now drooling it’s own preciouse juices. “Bring it into you.” I said as I rammed into you again. “Bring the change.” I said louder. “Embrace the change.” I shouted as I pummelled your arse. In and out, ramming your rapidily slackening hole. Ruining it for lesser men. “Take this fuck and become who you have always wanted to be. “ “Tell me what and who you are.” I demanded, never letting up. In and out, in and out. pistoning like a crazy engine. “I’m a big, stupid muscle whore!” You whispered. “WHAT ARE YOU!” I shouted in your ear as I felt you begin to change. I felt your back changed first, filling up and out as you were bent over letting me fuck you. It broadened, unfolding like a sail. “Nhhhhhgghhh….” You groaned as the back broaden into a monstrous almost u shape it was so wide. “I…..I’M arrgggghhh.” You moaned as your shoulders sprouted like mountains from your back. They were like titanic carved boulders, a mountain range that met in the middle at the Everest monument that were your Traps. They were magnificent. I gripped them hard almost biting down on them as you neck thickened too. It grew thick and wide enough that if you flexed which you were doing it would be thicker than your head. Your traps rising almost to your ears. “WHAT ARE YOU?” I rammed you mercilessly now, slamming your growing and tightening butt. I was get rounder and harder at the same time. I could feel you getting used to the invasion that I was committing to your hole. It felt amazing. I could feel myself getting near. “I A….BIG…Nrghh STUPID…WH…argh….FUCK ME! You scream as I ploughed you. Your desire feeding mine now as you began to push back against my thrusts as if born to do this. I could feel you grow taller, your legs rapidly thickening. Beautiful sweeps and shapes. Carved granite trunks that could snap a tree branch with ease and perfect rounded calves. All the muscle cut and carved to perfection your feet growing in size to accommodate the growth above. “WHAT ARE YOU?” I screamed now. Slamming into you with abandon as I knew the final phase of the physical transformation was coming. Your chest and abdomen had built themselves up. The pecs were beyond human shelves of muscle. They were so big that the perfect, rounded, thick, juicy nipples had to point down as the mass of them had nowhere else to go. The abs were inhuman to look at. Thick, hard, ridged muscle cut it’s way across you midriff. Beautiful obliques and then serratus muscle standing out in perfect contrast leading to a perfect Adonis belt at the top of a thick muscular waist that was able to support the sheer massive construct of flesh above it. “I’M A BIG, STUPID MUSCLE WHORE!” You bellowed in deep voice that brought me over the edge. I came inside you, I rammed you almost in a rage as I shot, load after load and spurt after spurt of cum into your warm, receptive hole. Sealing the physical transformation you had so desired. I pulled out of you, both of us panting like bulls and sweating like them too. I could hear your deep voice as you groaned. I grabbed a towel from the side and walked over to you. “We’re not finished.” I said. “I don’t understand.” You said as you stood up, sweat glistened off your still pale body. Your face and hair were unchanged and look at odds with the physique you had sculpted for yourself. You were looking at yourself in awe and pleasure. You kept touch and flexing, catching your reflection in the mirror over the mantle. “I still feel the desire.” I said, my voice darker. “I…I…This is fine.” You stammered in your masculine timbre. “Not so.” I said putting my hands either side of your face. Drawing you close and kissing your mouth. My bearded chin and lips roughly scratching at your skin.” “MMMffff” You said against the invasion of my tongue. You realised what was about to happen. This was the price you had to pay. Your skin began to darken, to become the hue of a man who works outside. Warm and weathered. Thick veins started to thread themselves across your body, especially on your shoulders, traps, biceps and most of all your forearms which were a monstrous construction. Almost beyond human in the girth and vascularity. Your legs were symphony of criss cross veins. Bulging out with every moment, each muscle group and striation screaming to be seen through the paper like skin. With the tan and the veins came the hair. You were a mousy brown-haired man no longer. Slowly each hair started to change colour and new patches grew on your body as I continued to kiss you. You begain to kiss me back, to explore my mouth with your tongue. Probing and suddenly eager. Your beard started to grow out, thicken after a good few moments into a nice lumberjack style beard. The hair on your head started to fall out slowly as the rest of your body grew more thick, beautiful red hair. Your beard, chest and legs as well as your armpits and balls all had a covering of thick red hair. Your shiny bald dome was the only contrast. You were moaning into my mouth now, almost trying to fuck my mouth with your tongue. I could feel you jacking yourself off, you hadn’t cum yet and that was the part I was waiting for. I pushed back with my tongue for a second and your face changed. It crumpled almost. Re-arranging itself. The brow got much thicker making the eyes seem deeper set. They were transforming from the dull puddles they were into beautiful bright green gems that glinted seductively from their deep sockets.The nose appeared to be slightly crooked as if broken but it seems at home in the square jawe and firm chin that it was now set in the middle of. The lips were sensuous and still perfectly manly, especially as you were still trying to rape my mouth with your tongue. You were close now, groaning and masturbating furiously as I pulled away from your mouth. Streams of saliva dripping between us as we separated. “Huh—hhuuuh uh uh” You panted. You wanted release but needed me to let you go. I smiled and turned you towards a large mirror in the corner of the room. You saw the monument of a creature you had become. You were flailing mercilessly at your eager cock as it too began to grow. It thickened and lengthened in your hands to the point where you put both your meaty paws on it. You thrashed it back and forth like a lunatic pre-cum flying everywhere. Your balls dropped again and hung thick and pendulous below your cock and your voice deepened even more as you groaned in desperate need for release. “Huh….uuuhhh..” You groaned rocking back and forth back and forth. You stared at me in the mirror unable to speak and the only thoughts were of your need. I stood behind you. I smiled and then I whispered in your ear again. “Pay the price.” I said oh so quietly. “Tell me what you are.” I’M A STUPID MUSCLE WHORE!” You bellowed with your entire soul. Your firehouse cock start to jerk and bounce as your huge firm balls contracted and you began to spurt cum. Shot after shot at the mirror you were staring at. Totally enraptured by the red headed god in the mirror. You seemed to lose your voice as it became only grunts. All you felt was your need. You didn’t have room for anything else. All your knowledge, all those years of study and work. All the years of disappointment and yearning, All the years of wandering and longing. All those memories now gone. You shot out every part of the you that walked in the door. Each pump of cum was also a handful of I.Q. Not that you realised or even cared for that matter, so in love with the muscled bull in the mirror. You got what you wanted.
    2 points
  4. Hi, everyone! Here's the second part. Again, I really do appreciate all feedback and critique to help me improve my writing. Sorry if it took so long, I've been having internet problems lately. Enjoy! PART 2 It’s been a week since that night with the meteor. No one seemed to have been infected by any space viruses or taken over by any hosts, so that was an immediate relief on our part. Everyone went along with their lives like normal. None of us chose to bring it up in conversation. As if anyone would ever want to relive that catastrophe. I checked the news every night to see if anyone caught on with the meteor, but it didn’t seem like anyone did, strangely enough. Not even NASA spoke up about it. It was like the four of us were the only ones to witness a meteor crash into Earth that night. I asked Wes about the site numerous times since he always passed by it on his way home, but he always said it was as if nothing had happened. Apparently, I was the only one confused about it all. One day, I was at my desk, teaching Froy the basics of writing memos. Since he started interning, he adjusted faster than I expected and almost seemed like a full-time employee. I wouldn’t even have to explain it since he’d already have it done two hours earlier. Everyone at the office grew comfortable around him, and just as I expected, he was the apple of many of the women’s eyes—a true heartthrob. Being the naive thing he was, he never knew how to react and just blushed and gave his thanks. Marcus came into the office one day, looking more haggard than normal. He was wearing the same sky blue button down that he wore the night the meteor crashed, but something seemed different about it. He looked like he was filling it out more. He was probably going to the gym again, like he said he was. It was strange to me though how fast he was getting results. Normally, I assumed it would take at least a month for results to actually become noticeable, but he got them in a week. They weren’t much, but his shirt was definitely tighter—especially around the shoulders and chest. The thin fabric looked like it was almost at its breaking point. He came up to me and Froy and sat on my desk. The new muscle on his thighs were accentuated as they pressed against my table the way fat normally does. He combed his wavy hair back and sighed. “‘Sup, Dory, ‘sup Froy, how’s today been? Got any work done yet?” “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? Did you decide to take your work to the gym instead?” Marcus raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in confusion. “Huh? What do you mean?” “Didn’t you tell us you were going back to the gym? You look bigger.” He shook his head. “Naw, I haven’t gone back yet. I’m still looking for a partner since Froy here and Wes don’t wanna be my partner,” he said. “But if you say I look bigger, then you’re damn right.” “So you are bigger?” Marcus stuck out his right arm and flexed his bicep. “Yeah. Not sure how, but I gained like 7 pounds in a week. Can you imagine how big I’d be if I grew this much in college every week without needing to go to the gym?” “Then you wouldn’t have been a fitness model. You’d just be—” “A bodybuilder. Yeah, I know. I’ve actually always wanted to be one, but I never had the time, and I always plateaued at this size. Maybe now that I’m growing out of nowhere, I’d actually get to be one,” Marcus said. “By the way, Froy, have you washed my black shirt yet? I’m going out on a date later, and I’m out of my black shirts.” Froy froze. “Oh, ah, wait. I have it in my bag.” He pulled it out, folded neatly and smelling of lavender. “I made sure it didn’t have any of that meteor stuff on it anymore.” Marcus snatched it out of his hand and held it up. “Thanks, bud. Weird, it almost looks smaller. Did you shrink it in the wash?” “No, I handwashed it and left it to dry. I even washed it twice to make sure… that’s why it took so long. Sorry, sir.” “Huh, alright. Thanks again, kid.” Marcus hopped off my desk and strutted to his desk, leaving me and Froy alone together again. We gave each other the same look we made whenever Marcus came over. The guy was fun and friendly and everything, but damn, he could get a bit grating whether he meant to be or not. If he were any uglier, we’d had to have him fired. Good thing he was hot. It was a miracle I was able to last so long in the company with him around. I gave Froy some documents to go route around the office. As soon as he left, I headed over to Wes’ office to ask him about his doctor’s check-up. He told me after that night that he wasn’t feeling very well. I guessed it was because he was the only one of the three of them who got that green shit in his mouth and actually swallowed it. I knew he was at work since I saw him come in this morning in his usual. He really enjoyed wearing clothes too small on him. His white polo shirt had to have two of its three buttons unbuttoned just for his cleavage, and his bulge looked suffocated in his slacks. I felt bad for him, knowing how much he wished he could be bigger. But it’s not like he looked bad. He would probably get to keep his youthful appearance for another two decades because of his genes, and the tank aesthetic suited him: short and thick. I also quite liked my inch of height over him. Outside Wes’ office, Marcus wasn’t at his desk where he normally sat like a guard dog. If people didn’t know any better, everyone would’ve been confusing him for Wes’ secretary by the way he was constantly watching over his door and staring at everyone who passed by. I headed inside his office and caught Wes jacking off under his desk. Both of us stared at each other in shock until he panicked and packed everything away as fast as he humanly could. He even spilled some of his lube on his pants in his hurry. I noticed that he took considerably longer packing away a certain something in his underwear than everything else. It wasn’t much of a surprise anymore. I’d already seen a pretty good chunk of it a week ago when he came in his pants. “What the fuck! Close the door, Dory! Jesus Christ!” he yelled. “You can’t just be coming in here without knocking!” “Damn, I didn’t think you’d be doing that in broad daylight. This is the first time I caught anyone jacking off at work.” “Who said I was jacking off?” he asked. “What else could you have possibly been doing, Wes? Doing your taxes? With a bottle of lube and your dick out?” I shut the door and locked it behind me as I approached his desk. He still looked flustered and wiped away the rest of his sweat. Was he really not expecting anyone to walk in here today? Of all the people in the office, being the boss, anyone would think that people would be coming in here with signing documents all day. It was unusual for him to be so… unprepared. “So what did you want? Why’d you come in here?” he asked. “I just came to ask about the doctor’s appointment if they said anything. You did go, right?” He sighed. “Yeah, I went. They said that I was in perfect condition. I even told them about the strange urges I’ve been having, but they just tell me it’s normal. I always thought you had to be pregnant to crave weird shit, but apparently it’s the same when you’re in ‘perfect condition’.” “What urges? You never told me about this.” His eyes shifted back and forth around my head, as if he was trying to avoid eye contact. “I don’t know, Dory. It’s like… first, it was pickles. I was like, ‘okay, fine, this is normal,’ but then it got to pig liver, and I realized something was wrong. Then just yesterday… I was on my way home when I suddenly started craving, uh…” “What? Craving what?” “Cum.” “...What?” “I wanted to drink cum. I don’t even know where that came from, Dory. I haven’t had a man’s dick in my mouth for a decade.” Somehow, my boss was compelled to drink another man’s cum. I don’t know how this happened. I always knew South-East Asians ate the weirdest shit, but this was a whole new culinary option I’d never heard of. The thought of craving a man’s cum… “Hey, are you listening?” I snapped back. “Oh, yeah. ‘Cum?’ Are you sure you’re not just craving glue or something?” “No, I wish. But I know what a man’s cum tastes like. I am definitely craving it,” he said. “Fuck, if my wife found out I was craving a man’s cum again…” “Just don’t let the bitch know. You’ve kept your bisexuality a secret for nine years already. It shouldn’t be that hard.” His eyes widened. “Fuck, don’t say that.” “Say what? ‘Hard’?” He bit his lip and jittered it in his seat. It was like me saying ‘hard’ caused him to get hard. Was he okay? I’m pretty sure this wasn’t normal. I saw his eyes go down to his pants, and just over the desk, I thought I could see just the faintest tip of his cock. It really was just as big as I expected it to be. Damn. Margaret was a lucky woman. I could only imagine what Wes was like in bed. Mr. Boss. “Okay, yeah, I think you’re gonna have to go, Dory,” he said. “I need to, uh, finish some business. Again. Fucking Christ.” I stood up from my chair and approached the door. “Yeah, I’ll go. I love having a boss who’s always, uh… hard at work.” “Ha, ha, very funny. And lock the door on your way out, would you, please?” I opened the door and found myself staring straight at Froy’s chin. He had his hand up as if he were about to knock on Wes’ door, so he stepped back and let me step out to meet him. He routed the documents faster than I expected. It was only his first week, but I wouldn’t be wrong to guess that he was probably the best intern the company has ever had so far. He lowered his fist and smiled. “Uh, hi, sir. I was just looking for you since you weren’t at your desk.” “You didn’t have to come look for me. You could’ve just waited at my desk like always.” “Sir, but… I didn’t want to be alone.” I sighed and led him back to my desk. We continued working the rest of the day, fixing up paperwork for the rest of the week. Something bothered me, however. Marcus and Wes had both been acting incredibly strange since that night with the meteor, but Froy seemed completely unbothered. Marcus somehow grew bigger out of nowhere, and Wes was craving cum. Why did Froy seem so normal? I remember he was hit by the slime as well. “Hey, Froy, has anything weird happened to you lately? Since the meteor?” He gave me a puzzled look. “Uh, no, sir, why?” “It’s just strange. Marcus looks like he’s been going to the gym for a month when he hasn’t even gone yet. And Wes is having some weird ass cravings. And I know all three of you were there with the meteor, so it’s weird how you still seem so unaffected.” “What if that meteor thing gave us superpowers, sir?” “This isn’t a comic book. And what kind of power would Wes even have?” “I dunno, sir. I just thought it’d be cool.” “Why, what power would you wanna have?” He pointed at his chest. “I dunno, sir. Maybe something that could help other people like if they were sick or weak maybe.” “For your mother? Why not just be a doctor?” “I… can’t afford it, sir.” I was going to keep asking Froy questions, but I got distracted by something else. The office’s regular attire was a collared shirt. It didn’t matter what color or design it had as long as it had a collar. However, what grabbed my attention was the man who just exited the washroom wearing an incredibly tight plain black shirt. Then I recognized him: it was Marcus. What happened to him? He had more muscle popping up than I expected under his button-down earlier. The thin fabric was wrapped so tightly around his chest and shoulders, emphasizing his disproportionate broadness, and his upper arms looked like small footballs. His chest was jutting out so far and wide that the shirt was tenting over his abs. This was not the same Marcus. The sleeves couldn’t even begin wrapping over his bulging arms that they squeezed between his shoulders and upper arms. He walked over to us with the smuggest grin and modeled in front of us. “Don’t you think it looks too small?” he asked us. “What the fuck happened to you? I thought you said you only gained 7 pounds?” I asked. He adjusted one of his sleeves digging into his armpit. “Well, uh, I did weigh myself three days ago. I guess I must have grown more since then. Pretty good though, right? Don’t I look good?” Not even Froy could say anything about it. Well, not like he says much anyway regardless, but he looked even more surprised. Both of us just watched Marcus flex his newly-grown biceps and triceps in his tight black shirt, showing off. “Isn’t it too tight on you, though? I thought you didn’t like being restricted with shit like seatbelts?” “Hey, as much as I’d love to walk out there without a shirt on, I don’t wanna get arrested. The shirt off can wait till I get the date in bed tonight.” He chuckled. “By the way, you’re gay, right?” I looked at him, puzzled. “Yeah, why?” He raised up his right arm and flexed his bicep. “Do you wanna touch it? I know gay guys love this kinda shit.” My heart stopped. “I do, but—” “But what?” He stepped closer. “Come on, I’m letting you touch a big, juicy muscle right in front of your face. At least grope it. We both know you want it. Don’t you think so, Froy?” Froy’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Ah, yes, sir…?” “Ugh, fine.” I reached out my small hand and placed it on his bicep peak. It was hard and swollen, as if he just came out of a fresh pump. I couldn’t believe its warmth. It was so inviting. The musk emanating from his sweaty armpit also tinged my nose just a bit. Marcus smiled at me, flexing it even harder in my fingers. He told me to try and squeeze it. My fingers barely left a dent. His skin was so smooth. My hand rode over the curvature of his arm, feeling every striation of his bicep in my fingers. I wrapped my hand around his arm and gave it a tight squeeze, and I could have sworn it swelled up ever so slightly larger in that split instant. He took his arm back and winked at me. “You’re welcome,” he said. “Aight, I’m heading home early today. Can’t keep my date waiting.” Then I remembered. I had to ask him before he left. “Wait, Marcus, could I ask you a question?” “Yeah, bud. Hit me.” “Did anything weird happen to you after the meteor?” He looked back at me confused. “Huh? What do you mean? If you’re asking about that night, I don’t remember shit after all that vodka at Wes’s condo, man. I just remember his wife texting me the next morning to keep my tongue away from her kids. I don’t even know what the fuck I did, but it sounds disgusting.” “No, not that. I don’t even remember shit either. Did you feel anything weird the next day? Any weird cravings?” He shook his head. “Naw, I was fine. No, wait, I was more than fine. I was fiiine. I felt better than I ever did in the past year. It’s like my body just woke up or something and never fell asleep again. It’s weird. Now I gained like 15 pounds maybe? Not even an ounce of fat either.” He groped his chest. “I really think it’s ‘cuz of the meteor. Do you think you’re gonna keep growing?” I asked. He laughed. “Yeah, why not? I’d love to grow bigger than this. Maybe I’ll even get to look like those bodybuilders in a few weeks,” he said. “Okay, I’ve really gotta go now, Dory. I don’t wanna be late.” Marcus waved us goodbye as he disappeared through the glass door. “Sorry if that made you uncomfortable,” I told Froy. “It’s just a thing Marcus does with me.” “Oh, it’s okay, sir. I didn’t mind.” I looked at him. His eyes were staring at the ground, and his lips were pursed. There was even a bit of pink around his cheeks and nose. I glanced downwards and saw his hands covering up his crotch, as if there was something he wanted to hide. He looked so cute and guilty. It didn’t seem like he was the type to really talk about an erection if nobody asked. “Wait... did you like it?” I asked. His eyes glanced up at me before looking away. He nodded meekly. “I didn’t know you were into that kind of thing too. I thought you were straight.” His face lit up. “Sorry, sir. I didn’t want to scare you.” “Why would you being gay scare me?” “I… uh, I don’t know, sir.” I didn’t know what he meant by that. I couldn’t see any possible reason anyone could possibly be afraid of a small gay man like myself. The only thing I had to offer was myself. Was that it? Was he scared of scaring me off? I wasn’t physically intimidating at all, so I doubted he was scared of me beating him up. It was definitely a long shot. I didn’t want to scar him by misunderstanding what he said and seeming narcissistic, but it was now or never. “Wait, Froy…” “...Yes, sir?” “Are you… into me?” He was silent for a while. I was afraid I had scared him and forced him into shame by assuming he was into me. I had always believed that that kind of fantasy only existed in my dreams. After a few seconds, however, he giggled softly. “Yeah, sir.” We both stared at each other’s eyes as if the world was contained in them. Neither of us could mouth a follow-up. As much as he tried looking away, like he always did, this time he couldn’t help himself but look at me. Just like him, I couldn’t help but stare either. Sitting beside me was the cutest guy I’d ever met in my life, with his button nose and pronounced cheeks. Everything about him just seemed so much more enticing now. Even his hair was extra spikey. While it was a great feeling to be desired by someone else, I couldn’t help but feel as though he deserved better. He was 20, fit, 6’1”, and smart enough to earn a scholarship to one of the most prestigious universities around, so I couldn’t help but wonder, “Why me?” We’d only been together for a week. The entire time, he’d never shown any interest in me whatsoever. And why not Marcus? “Sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said that.” “Said what?” “That.” “Look, you’re gonna have to be more specific than that if we’re ever gonna get past this awkwardness. You really just said you were into me? I wasn’t hearing things wrong?” “Yes, sir. I think small guys are cute.” I was growing a smile. “You think I’m cute?” “Yeah. You’re, uhm… pretty cute.” Another thing began to grow. “You’re cute too,” I said. “Have you done anything with a guy before?” “...Just my brothers.” My heart sank. “Ah, right. Okay, don’t worry, I won’t ask for anything from you. I don’t wanna impose.” He smiled, turning away, this time with a solemness in his voice that took over his glee. “Thank you, sir.” We continued on with business as usual for the rest of the day. Only now, there was a strange distance between us I never noticed before. I can’t believe I forgot about his brothers. A safe assumption would be that he wasn’t looking for sex or romance. None of my friends had ever experienced sexual trauma as a child, so I could only believe that he wouldn’t be very willing. If I forced him into it, he might think I was only using him for sex—just like his brothers. And I scared myself at the thought of chasing after him. If I did, wouldn’t I be just as bad as his brothers? Trying to manipulate someone into desiring me for sex? However, if I left him alone for too long, his feelings for me might disappear. It was a horrifying choice to make. Chasing after him for anything other than sex right now was impossible since I functioned on it. I didn’t want to leave him either. I wanted to have sex with him. God, what’s wrong with me? After he left for the day, I realized that maybe I was just thinking with my penis too much. I had to relieve myself. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to think this through properly. I thought about the washroom, but every attempt I had at jacking off solo anywhere besides my apartment was a fluke. Plus, people began questioning why I disappeared for so long during the day. I was preparing to head home after work, left wondering about Froy. What was I going to do with him? The correct answer is nothing. I wasn’t supposed to do anything. But I wanted to. On my way out, I got curious and wondered about the meteor. I wondered if maybe there was something in the meteor that was causing everyone—everyone but Froy—to have these strange changes. It wasn’t normal to grow out of nowhere, and it definitely wasn’t normal to crave a man’s sperm. I highly doubted it was a very good meal replacement. I didn’t want to spend on commute to the crash site, since it was incredibly far away, so I had to ask Wes. He could always drive me there. Getting back was still a pricey cost, but at least it would only be half as much as a two-way trip. I headed over to Wes’ office immediately. Unfortunately for both of us, I may or may not have forgotten that he told me to knock before entering just earlier in the day. I didn’t even bother locking the door. The door swung open easily enough, unlocked as usual. What I found inside was… unbecoming of a man holding my paycheck. It was Wes—hunched over at his desk, slurping something out of his hand. His back was turned to me, so I couldn’t see what it was. All I could see was the bottle of lube on his table again, and from there it wasn’t hard to guess what it was he was eating out of his hand. It wasn’t lube. “Wes?” I asked. He jumped in surprise, spitting out whatever was in his mouth and eyeing me with wide, furious eyes. I don’t think he expected anyone to interrupt him. He wiped his mouth clean with a tissue and grunted, slamming both his hands on his table. “What did I just tell you about knocking on the door?” he asked. “Is some respect so hard to ask?” “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, sir.” “Well, you just did. I hope you’re proud of yourself for that, Dory. Two claps for Mr. Yale. Clap, clap.” “What were you doing anyway? I thought I saw you drinking something out of your hand.” I walked over and sat at his desk. “I hope that wasn’t what I think it was, Wes.” Wes grasped his forehead in shame and sighed. “Fuck, you saw.” “Yeah.” “I couldn’t take it anymore, Dory. I knew I couldn’t ask anyone at the office to let me blow them. That would look so unprofessional, and if my wife found out I was sucking off guys again, she’d probably leave me and take the kids with her.” “Were you drinking your own cum this entire time? Isn’t that kinda unhealthy?” “No, I googled it, and it’s fine as long as I’m STI-free. And unless my wife’s been lying to me, I should be fine.” He stuffed his fat member back in his pants and zipped up. “So why’d you come here anyway? It’s not payday yet.” “I was gonna ask if you could bring me to the crash site where the meteor was. It’s like nobody except us know it happened, and I just think it’s kinda impossible since NASA exists.” He stored away his bottle of lube. “Why do you wanna go back? I already told you there’s nothing new. It’s exactly the same as it was before.” “I just wanna check it out again, Wes. Please?” He sighed. “Fine,” he said. “Wait for me at my truck later after work. I’ll also bring you back home.” “Oh, no, it’s okay, Wes. I was just gonna commute home.” “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Just remember that the next time you come into my office without knocking, I’m beating the shit out of you.” I left his office and waited for him downstairs at his truck for another hour. By then, most of the office had already gone home. The carpark was as ghostly as cemetery. I kept pacing back and forth, wondering where Wes was, when I heard the elevator ding at last. As Wes walked over, something seemed… different about him. I looked closer and saw that instead of just two buttons on his polo being unbuttoned, all three were. His chest seemed fuller, somewhat more engorged. I could even see the garter on his sleeves being stretched out by his arms—something that didn’t usually happen. I wondered where he found the time to go to the gym and get a pump before coming down here. “Hey, sorry I’m late. Had to go another round before coming down here. My libido is out of control,” he said. Standing in front of him, he was definitely bigger. His shirts were normally only a size too small, but now it looked two sizes too small. Some of the tub above his pants was showing because of his chest demanding the fabric. His bulge protruded from his tight slacks by at least an inch. Everything about him just seemed ever so slightly upsized. In fact… He was the same height as me. I had always been an inch taller than Wes, and I worked at the company for a good two years already. Now out of the blue, he’s suddenly a slightly bigger version of himself. I had lost my inch over him. No longer was he 5’6”, he was 5’7”. I had no idea what happened to him or why, but I had to guess that if anything, it had to be related to the meteor. Every since that night, Marcus, and now Wes, were growing. The only difference to Marcus was that Wes craved cum—and was swallowing loads of his own. Pun intended. “What happened to you?” I asked. He chuckled. “Hah, what do you mean?” He stared into my eyes… at eye-level. “You’re as tall as me. And you look bigger.” He waved it off. “Or maybe your eyes just got smaller, Dory. I haven’t gone to the gym yet, so how could I have a pump?” I got into the passenger seat as he got into the driver’s. “It’s not a pump, Wes. You really are bigger. You were an inch shorter than me this morning.” “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Dory. I’ve always been 5’7” like you.” It didn’t seem like arguing my point was going to get me anywhere with Wes. I couldn’t tell if he was delusional or trying to avoid the topic, but regardless of what he thought, he was definitely bigger than this morning, and I had no idea why. If it was the meteor, then why hasn’t Froy been getting bigger too? It was strange how only two out of three were growing when they were all affected by the meteor. The drive to the crash site was uneventful. Wes played Bob Marley on the radio and sang along by himself after failing to persuade me to join him. He told me once that karaoke was a popular tradition in his home country, so it wasn’t a surprise that his truck’s stereo system and his vast collection of CDs were beyond pimped out. The moment I notice even a cent off my paycheck, I’ll know where it went. He told me stories about how his kids would often surprise him when he got home. They’d show up at the door with cute little home-made gifts and hugs. According to him, there was one time where his kids thought it would be funny to scare him by hiding behind the door. Wes was having a bad day then. When he got home, being the strong man he was, he slammed open the door and nearly broke his kids’ noses just from the sheer force. His wife warned him to watch his strength, knowing how strong he was despite his short stature. On the way, I never realized how much of a forest there was between his condo and the city. I could barely see through the leaves onto the next set of trees and bushes. It was nearly pitch black. When we got to the point where I remember we stopped to clean up Wes’ pants, I noticed that we were still in the middle of the forest. The clearing was nowhere in sight. I took a look around, and I couldn’t see a clearing for miles. It was almost as if there never was a clearing to begin with—only large trees and humongous, over-grown bushes. “Where’s the crash site? Did you need to take a piss or something?” I asked. “What? No, this is it. This is where that meteor crashed last week.” “Don’t be crazy, Wes. The meteor crashed at a clearing. We’re still in the middle of the forest.” He looked at me confused. “What are you talking about? There’s never been a clearing here. You can even go over there and see the crater and debris.” I figured there was no point in arguing, so I stepped out and inspected. Where there was originally a clearing was now an over-grown patch of greenery that seemed untouched for centuries. No other part of the forest was this thick. Some of the grass blades even looked like they reached my thighs. It was like a garden made for a giant. I struggled through the bushes and flowers until I got to the crater where the meteor was. Wes wasn’t lying. This huge thicket definitely used to be the clearing, but what happened? Why did everything suddenly get so out of control? Wes wasn’t making any sense at all. He told me that nothing was any different here, but clearly, that was a lie. The reason why was still a mystery to me. Nothing was making sense. Was the entire city affected by this? The only thing that even resembled that night was the crater and the meteor debris lying around. For some reason, the grass stayed short and normal wherever the debris was. The crater with most of the debris was completely devoid of life, strangely enough. It was a black stain in the middle of all the greenery. The view of the city that Froy and I enjoyed wasn’t even visible anymore through the trees. It seemed the meteor made more than just Marcus and Wes grow. I headed back to the truck with Wes so he could bring me home. It was unbelievable. I had a hard time suspending my disbelief to believe any of this was actually happening. Wes managed to avoid traffic and bring me home faster than I expected. He continued acting as if everything was normal. His growth was very clearly not just a pump anymore. His new size just made him so much more intimidating to me. I had always found comfort in the fact that he was always an inch shorter than me, but now that he was my height, he suddenly scared me. There was just so much muscle on him that putting him next to me made me look even younger than Froy. I’m pretty sure I was gonna need both hands just to wrap around his upper arms. If he got any bigger, I don’t know how scared I’d be. He was already plenty big as a 5’7” tank. I was curious to see if he kept his proportions if he grew any taller. I wanted to see if his muscles would grow faster than he grew taller. I just wanted to see him grow. On the way home, I couldn’t help but wonder what made him begin growing. Then I remembered… his cravings. He only began growing when he drank his own cum. There was no other logical explanation. He grew when he drank cum. God, his wife was gonna have a field day. When we finally arrived at my apartment, it was nearly midnight, around the same time the meteor crashed last week. It felt so long ago, and yet, as if it just happened yesterday. As I exited Wes’ truck, he honked. I turned around and saw him peeking through the passenger door and smiling at me. “Hey, Dory, do you think you could do me a favor?” he asked. “Just between us buds.” “Sure, boss. What is it?” “Get me Marcus’s tic-tacs.”
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  5. Hi, everyone! So I'm starting this experimental series to see if a more traditional narrative would work here, and I would really appreciate all feedback and critique to help me improve. This is mostly going to involve more plot and character than growing, although there will still be a lot of growing done. It just won't be the main focus (for now). Writing is something I don't normally get to do on a regular basis, but it's something I want to make a living out of, so all advice is incredibly welcome. I am more than willing to alter the way the narrative develops and is written depending on how people prefer their pacing and writing. Thanks and enjoy! Hard at Work [Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5a -5b - 6 - 7 - 8a - 8b - 8c - 9 - 10 - 11a - 11b - 12a - 12b - 13a - 13b - 13c - 13d] PART 1 Working at my job wasn’t exactly the most exciting thing in the world, but it paid the bills. On an average day, I would sit at my desk, wondering how a bachelor’s degree in Chemistry got me a job in human resources. It’s not like I had particularly good chemistry with other people either. During my time at the company so far, I’ve only been able to get close to two people. One of them was a co-worker of mine named Marcus. He often pulled pranks on me and made childish jokes at my expense whenever we took a break for coffee. Normally, him being a 23-year-old man, anyone would expect some sort of maturity or sense of responsibility. Marcus was nothing of the sort. He played around far too much and just did whatever the hell he wanted to. Every attempt our boss had at scolding him fell on deaf ears. With any other employee, our boss’ words would stop us dead in our tracks. Boss had that charismatic, authoritative aura about him. Unlike Marcus, our boss, Mr. Wesley Smith, or just Wes, took everything seriously. He had a reputation to uphold. Sure, he had his fair share of dad jokes every now and then, but people in the workplace were already so used to Marcus’ absurd antics that nobody ever really noticed. The three of us were often referred to around the office as the “threesome of power.” In one way or another, we all held some sort of power around the office. Wes had his obvious influence and status. Marcus had his absurdity and over-all charisma. Compared to them, I didn’t have as much. All anyone ever told me was that I was the glue that held together our little threesome. In my opinion, it’s just an excuse to call us a threesome since we’re always together. I wasn’t a big fan of the name, honestly. Especially since I was the only gay one. The main reason people chose to describe us as a “threesome” specifically is that Marcus and Wes were probably the most attractive and sought-after guys at the workplace. Marcus was 5’11” and pretty damn attractive. He had wavy, blonde hair that looked like it was streaked with chocolate, and his eyebrows were incredibly thick and a deep chestnut. Of the three of us, he also had the best body. He had been a model in his university years, so he developed a toned, muscled body with a deep V-shaped torso and disproportionate pecs and shoulders. On the other hand, Wes wasn’t bad looking, but all his time spent in bars showed. He was a good-looking man for his age, 31, having South-East Asian genes, and he had a strong square face that accentuated his stocky figure, being only 5’6”. He did go to the gym after work, but he developed a gut after all the vodka. People often say his most attractive feature is his cat eyes. His eyebrows also tilted inwards, so he always had this fierceness about him. It didn’t seem like he was meant to be built in any way besides a small tank either. While Marcus and Wes were the stars of our threesome, I was labeled the “DUFF.” I was only 24, but the new terms the kids kept coming up with always got lost on me. I was the least attractive among us, I must admit. 5’7” isn’t exactly a height anyone would be flaunting off. It’s not that I looked like Quasimodo though. I was just… average—nothing spectacular about me. On one particularly rainy day, Marcus approached me at my desk, wearing his favorite sky blue button-down. He leaned over the divider with a coffee in his hand and sipped it so loudly it echoed. “What are we gonna do about the rain? Do you wanna just move bar night to Wes’ condo again?” he asked. “Yeah, but have you asked him? We might still be banned since you wrecked his condo the last time.” Marcus flubbed his lips, nearly spilling his coffee on my desk. “Don’t worry about it! Wes’ll understand. Besides, this time we got someone to clean our shit.” “I’m not cleaning your mess this time, Marcus.” “Not you, stupid. I meant the new intern. Wes said he was coming in today.” I looked at him, puzzled. “What new intern? No one told me about any new interns.” “That’s because you never join the meetings.” “What? The last meeting we had was two months ago, and literally all we talked about was how you put red food coloring in the water tanks to make it look like we were drinking blood.” Marcus laughed. “Well, now we just have meetings at the bar. I managed to convince him to move our meetings to the conference room with the dancers.” He chuckled. I sighed. “Fine, whatever. What’s his name? The intern, I mean.” “Ah, wait.” Eric brought out his phone. “I’ll ask Wes.” We waited for the phone to pick up. As soon as we heard Wes’ voice, Marcus didn’t hesitate to yell. “Yo, Wes!” I could hear an audible sigh come from the phone. “What’s up, Marcus? I’m kinda busy right now.” “I just told Dory about the new intern, but I forgot his name. What was it again?” “Froy Adamson. 20 years old from Harbridge University. He just texted and said he was coming up. Could you two let him in and show him around? Thanks.” “Sure thing, sir.” Marcus bounced his head to the side and looked at me as if he were planning something. He always did his squinted eyes, raised eyebrows, and pouted mouth. It was a staple of his. He wasn’t fooling anyone doing a face like that. I wonder if he ever noticed. He put the phone back in his pocket. “Well, Dory, looks like you’ve got some more work to do.” I knew it. “Seriously? Didn’t he tell us to handle him? To-ge-ther?” Marcus shrugged. “Well, I’ve got some work to do, and I’m reeaally tired.” He yawned. “You can handle the kid by yourself, right?” I said yes, and he was off, walking back to his desk. I don’t know why I let him do this to me. He’s lucky he was hot. Before I could prepare myself for the new intern, there was a knock coming from the glass door. I got up and headed over. Only people without access cards couldn’t get in and had to knock, which meant it had to be the intern. If I heard correctly, his name was supposed to be Froy, and a student at Harbridge… damn, someone was loaded. I got to the glass door and saw him standing outside. He was wearing a black button-down with his sleeves rolled up and skintight black jeans. They must have been pretty big too since he looked like he had to be at least 6’1”. His jet black hair was short and cropped with little spikes sticking up. He had a cute face too. He had the most precious baby button nose and pronounced dimples, making him look younger than he actually was. I wouldn’t be surprised if girls crushed on him everywhere. He had a decently lean body, but he definitely had bodybuilder potential by the way his broad shoulders stuck outwards, much like Marcus’. However, it didn’t seem like he was the braggart type. If anything, he was a bookworm. He looked like he lived and breathed in a library. All he was missing was a pair of glasses, but instead, he had the most perfect eyelashes. The poor thing seemed soaked by the rain. I opened the door for him and let him come inside, causing him to shiver in his shirt from the cold, freezer-like office temperature. He smiled at me and giggled nervously. “Sorry, sir,” he said with a nervous smile. “I forgot to bring an umbrella. I didn’t think it would rain today.” My heart hadn’t fluttered in so long by a guy’s voice. The last time I felt this elevated was when I was still in college and chatting up the star football athlete before he got caught doping and got expelled. I missed having crushes like this. Thankfully, Froy seemed to be legal. A co-worker of mine already got fired once for having “intimate relations” with an underage intern. I wasn’t going to be next. “It’s fine. Are you Froy?” I asked. He nodded. “Yes, sir. I was supposed to start last week, but my mother had an emergency at the hospital, so I couldn’t leave.” “It’s fine, don’t worry. Family first,” I said. “Did you bring an extra shirt? You might get sick if you wear that wet shirt here all day.” “No, sir. I don’t have anything to change into. Sorry.” I grabbed his forearm. “It’s fine. Here, I’ll let you borrow one of my backup shirts.” “Sir, are you sure?” “Yeah, it’s fine.” I brought him to my desk where I grabbed him a seat. My co-workers who passed by would smile at him, enticed by his cute face and meek demeanor. He’d greet them back with a small wave and shy smile. Some people even came up and asked me if he was my new boyfriend. How many times did I have to tell everyone that I’ve never had a boyfriend before? They were just making the boy uncomfortable. I brought out a plain white shirt from my emergency kit and handed it over to him. He looked it over and thinking about it now, it was probably too small for him. Such was a con of being six inches shorter than someone. He held it up to the light, trying to estimate its size. “I don’t think it’s gonna fit,” I said. “Could I try it on, sir? Just to be sure?” “Sure, go ahead. Just don’t tear it.” I leaned back into my seat as I watched him begin unbuttoning his button-down. At the back of my mind, I knew this was leaning towards sexual harassment—and on the first day of his internship to boot—but I couldn’t help myself. The kid wasn’t reacting negatively either, so I guessed he was okay with it. A lawsuit was the last thing I needed. He started from the top-down, exposing his lean muscle underneath. He had a decently-sized chest for his leanness, and I never noticed how perky his nipples were underneath the black fabric either. There was no body hair on him too, just like Wes. “Nice abs,” I said. He blushed. “Ah, thank you, sir.” “You go to the gym or something? You play sports?” “No, sir. I used to be part of the gymnastics team, but I quit so I could focus on my studies.” Froy raised up his arms and tried squeezing into my shirt. He stuck his head through the tight hole and did his best to stretch out my shirt to fit in as much as possible. He looked ridiculous. It was like a man trying to wear a child’s dress. “You’ve still got a nice frame. If you went to the gym, I bet you could build it up easily,” I said. He looked ridiculous in my shirt. The sleeves didn’t even reach past his shoulders, so the fabric dug into his armpits. The shirt only reached the first set of abs, exposing his core and defined pelvis. It looked like a crop top. How he even got into something so tight is still a mystery to me. “Sir, I’m not sure I can wear this.” “Obviously.” I punched his abs. “Come on, let’s go ask someone else. I’m too short to be lending you my clothes.” “You’re not too short, sir.” “Yeah, you’re just too tall.” I told him to take off the shirt. He looked like he was in too much pain to be wearing something so ridiculous before we found a better replacement. As he raised it over his head and pulled his arms through the sleeves, he accidentally tore it down the side from the left sleeve down to the hem. He froze in panic. “Sir, I’m so sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to break your shirt. It was an accident, sir, I swear.” “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “It’s just a shirt.” His lean torso was now exposed to the cold of the office again, but at least he wasn’t squeezed so tightly in my shirt. I didn’t want to kill him before Marcus did. I couldn’t afford that kind of blood on my hands at my age. No way my salary was going to cover it. I led the tall kid over to Marcus’ desk at the other end of the office. Marcus looked visibly disturbed, watching in silence as I approached with a tall, shirtless kid following closely behind me. I didn’t know what he was going to say or do. His eyes just kept darting back and forth between us, seemingly asking me, “What the fuck is going on?” “Hey, Marcus, this is the intern, and he—” “Why is he shirtless?” Marcus interrupted. I looked back at Froy, looking lost as always. “He got wet in the rain, and I told him I’d get him a new shirt. I tried giving him mine, but, uh…” Marcus raised an eyebrow. “But what? Dory, I need to tell you as a friend that you are very small. Did you try lending him your shirt? Was it too small? Did you come all the way here, to my cubicle, while I’m working, to ask for a shirt from me?” “Yes.” “Alright, here you go.” Marcus dug into his drawer and tossed Froy a clean, black shirt. Froy looked confused but put on the shirt. It fit him perfectly. Thankfully, Marcus’ tailored shirts to fit his broad shoulders and chest fit Froy just right. It was a bit short at the hem though. His pelvis would peek whenever he moved, but he was well-covered. The sleeves also accentuated what muscle he had on his arms, as expected from Marcus. “I have to say though, he’s got a nice body,” Marcus said. “The ‘overtime work’ he’ll be doing later is gonna be a nice work-out.” “Marcus, he’s not a maid.” “And I’m not Frida Kahlo.” “You aren’t.” “Shut up,” Marcus said. “Hey, kid, you’ll be coming with us after work, right?” Froy’s eyes grew wide. “Uh…” “Marcus, it’s only his first day. He doesn’t even know our names yet!” “It’ll be fiiiine. My name’s Marcus Fringe, and there’s your Sir Dorian Yale. You can just call us Marcus and Dory. Our boss is Sir Wesley Smith: short, stocky Asian dude. You can call him Wes. If you ever wanna come work for us, you could be a part of our little circle of friends here. We got cookies.” “Oh, I like cookies,” Froy whispered. “Stop fucking with my intern, Marcus.” “You’re not my mom.” Wes’ office was right in front of Marcus’ cubicle. Any time Marcus made too much noise or whenever Wes would leave for the washroom and caught Marcus doing something stupid, Wes would be the first to scold him. He often threatened to lower his pay, but Marcus didn’t care. They were too close to actually do anything like that. As we were talking, the door to Wes’ office opened. He walked out, wearing a skintight banana yellow collared shirt that showed off his muscles and small gut. Every shirt in his wardrobe seemed to be skintight. I remember him telling us once that he was raised to only wear the tightest clothing because it makes you look bigger. He was only 5’6”, so I could understand why. “Why are you making so much noise, Marcus?” he asked, standing in the doorway. “Oh.” I waved at him. “Hi, sir. This is Froy, the intern. I was just asking Marcus for an extra shirt since he got wet in the rain.” “Well, take care of him then. Show him around the floor or something, I dunno,” Wes said. “Oh, and Dory…” “Yes, sir?” “Take him out with ya later, aight? We’re gonna have a little fun.” Oh god. “Yes, sir.” Wes was returning to his office when Froy spoke up. “Oh, sir!” he said. “How do I get through the door? I don’t have an access card.” “Hm? You don’t need an access card. You just grab the handle, twist it, then pull. That’s how you open a door.” “Wes, never speak again,” Marcus said. “What about this?” Wes whispered. “Or this ♪?” he sang. “I’m done,” I said. “And I’m just getting started!” He fired double finger guns at me with the silliest grin, laughing at himself immediately afterwards. We all separated and went back to our work for the day. I finished up the rest of my work as fast as I could so that I’d have more time to tour Froy around the building. It was just a hunch, but I thought he’d appreciate the convenience store. The store has an unlimited sundae cone deal where you could get as much ice cream as you wanted as long as it’s in one continuous swirl and it doesn’t fall over. When we got there, I saw his eyes light up like a child at the carnival. He wasted no time and immediately ordered a sundae cone. I didn’t even have to tell him. It seemed like he was used to doing this sort of thing already. By the time the ice cream was five inches tall, I was getting worried. It looked like it would fall at any moment. “Froy, are you sure you wanna keep going?” “Yes, sir! I’ve done this before. My mom calls me a master at this.” By the time it reached 8 inches tall, he stopped the machine. He stood still at first, watching it intently. It looked like he was trying to connect his soul to the sundae, becoming one with its spirit or something. When he finally got it to stabilize, he smiled. “See, sir?” he said. Then he raised it up and dunked it in his mouth, all the way down to the cone. My eyes grew wide. Froy just took in 8 inches of freezing cold sundae in his mouth like it was nothing. “What the fuck? Did you just eat the entire thing in one bite?” He nodded, still swallowing the ice cream. When he finished, he accidentally exhaled into my face, filling my nose with his cold, breath-infused chocolate smell. He apologized and offered to wipe it off my nose. I had to tell him to stop since he still had the cone to finish. “How the fuck did you do that?” “My brothers taught me when I was younger how to exercise my gag reflex so I could take in more things. I could fit a whole foot-long in my mouth too!” he said. “It just got kinda messy… so we had to stop.” His face sunk. The cute smile he wore faded away after it seemed like he remembered something. “What happened?” “They, uh, taught me to give them blowjobs when I was 12. I thought it was normal for a few years, then they got arrested for selling drugs when I was 15. My mother told me they were horrible to me and told me what they were doing to me was wrong. So now I’m trying to find a job to pay for my mother’s hospital bills since I’m her only family left. She already used up all her savings on my tuition.” I felt horrible for him and found myself hugging him. He was stiff and caught in surprise at first, but he softened up and wrapped his arms around me too. I didn’t know he lived like this. I couldn’t take advantage of someone like him. It wouldn’t be right. “I’m so sorry.” He gave his ice cream a quick lick. “Don’t worry, sir, it’s fine. I’m over it now. I still miss them though.” “Who? Your brothers? They molested you as a kid. You shouldn’t be missing them. They deserve to rot in prison.” “We used to play games every day outside our house. They even bought me a goldfish once for my 14th birthday since it was all they could afford with their own money. I named him Pudge.” We headed back to my desk upstairs after finishing his ice cream and filing for his access card. The issue with his brothers was something we didn’t want to bring up too much in case he got triggered. More than half the office had already gone home for the day. Marcus, Wes, and I planned to leave for Wes’ condo at 8pm with Froy together. After I finished up, I asked Froy if he was okay with it. It was only his first day as an intern. I wouldn’t be surprised if he declined. Who knows what we might have been planning to do to him outside office hours? “It’s okay with me, sir.” “Are you sure? I haven’t even told you what we were doing.” “Oh, uh,” he said before chuckling nervously. “We’re going to your sir Wes’s condo to drink. Wes and Marcus just want you to be their sober caretaker, so you don’t have to go if you don’t want to.” Froy waved his hands. “Oh, no, sir, it’s okay with me. I’m used to being the sober one with my friends.” “Oh, okay. And don’t worry about something bad happening to you. None of us have ever done anything crazy before. Besides, Marcus is straight, and Wes is bi, but he has a family. I’m the only gay one here.” His eyebrows shot up. “You’re gay, sir?” “Yeah, why?” He looked away. “Nothing, sir.” That led me to wonder. Was he also gay? I guessed I could always figure that out some other time. After we packed up, we headed down to the basement carpark where Marcus and Wes were waiting for us at Wes’ truck. There were paper cups everywhere. It seemed like they’d been waiting there for a few years by the way they were lounging around and drinking coffee endlessly. When we got there, Marcus walked up to me and grabbed me by the shoulders. “What the fuck took you so long?” he asked. His pointed gaze shot into my skull. “You told me not to fuck with your intern, but is it really me you should be worrying about?” “We were just finishing up some shit. It took longer than expected. Sorry ‘bout it.” “Just get in the fucking truck already!” Wes yelled. “The vodka isn’t gonna drink itself!” I sat in the passenger seat, with Marcus and Froy in the back. It was the system we developed together when we first started hanging out at bars a few months ago. Marcus hated seatbelts and feeling claustrophobic, and I preferred the safety of the seatbelt. The three of us normally went out to the bar down the street on foot, but tonight, we decided to head to Wes’ condo instead to avoid the rain. The only thing different was that we had Froy with us. “Hey, kid, what was your name again?” Marcus asked. “Uh, sir, Froy Adamson, sir.” “Froy?” Marcus began to chuckle. He was visibly struggling to hold in his laughter. “Like fro-yo?” Froy was silent. “...Yes, sir. Frozen yogurt.” Marcus released his contained laughter, nearly keeling over his seat. Froy became worried and began to panic. Wes and I had to reassure him that making fun of people’s names was just something Marcus did on a daily basis to everyone around the office. Marcus was only a year younger than me, but he had the heart of a child that he never grew out of. We loved that about him. Marcus placed a hand on Froy’s shoulder. “I like this kid,” he said. Froy blushed. “I’m sure you do,” Wes said. “Everyone loves yogurt.” “Don’t predate on my intern, Marcus!” “I don’t wanna hear that from you, Dory!” Marcus said. “Hey, kid. I’ve been planning on going back to the gym again. If you ever wanna come with, just tell me, okay? You look like you’d be a great workout partner.” “Hey, what about me? Why do you ask the intern before your boss who you KNOW goes to the gym?” Wes asked. “How tall are you again, Wes?” Marcus asked. “Right now, about as high as your chances at a promotion, Marcus.” Marcus threw his arms around Wes’ seat. “Hey, come on! It was just a joke! It’s just too hard to be gym buddies with someone so short. Plus you’ve got that tiny gut.” “I can’t help it! Vodka might as well be my blood of Christ.” “So you’re a cannibal?” “What do you think happened to my first boyfriend?” The conversation continued for the next half hour on the road. Froy and I remained silent for the most part while Marcus and Wes bantered, with us being brought in every so often as jokes. Marcus couldn’t let go of “fro-yo.” The rain blocked the streets and kept us in traffic longer than we would have wanted. Wes began getting calls from his wife, asking about where he was since his kids were getting impatient after being locked up for so long. When we got to the forest separating Wes’ condo complex from the city district, Marcus brought out these small white pills he hid inside a tic-tac box. The resemblance was uncanny. Froy and I watched him, unaware of what the pills would do. No one was around to help if Marcus did something stupid. “Hey, Wes. You want a tic-tac?” Marcus asked. Froy and I watched in silence, fully aware of what Marcus was trying to do. “If you’re trying to bribe me for a pay raise again, it’s gonna take more than a tic-tac this time.” “No, seriously, come on. It’s just a candy. Completely free. No strings attached.” Wes held out a hand, and Marcus placed one on his palm. “This better not be another one of your fucking pranks, Marcus. The last one is still giving my kids diarrhea.” Wes threw the small white pill in his mouth without any hesitation. Suddenly, his stomach grumbled loudly. “God damn it, Marcus.” Marcus laughed and slammed his hand repeatedly against the back of Wes’ seat. Froy shifted closer to the door in fear. “What did you give him, Marcus?” I asked. “Dying in a car crash with you was not on my list of things to-do today.” “Mine too,” Froy mumbled. “Relax! It’s harmless. I already tried it on my dog, and nothing happened to her.” “I’m not a dog, Marcus! I’m your boss!” “And I’m not a scientist!” “That doesn’t make things any better, Marcus—Oh, my god... what the fuck is going on...” Wes looked uncomfortable, shifting around like there was a cactus on his seat. I looked down and saw that he was growing a tent in his pants. At first, I thought it was just viagra, but then a wet spot began to form. Wes’ face was red as a tomato and was completely speechless. I could smell the familiar smell that filled my room after school as a kid. Wes came. He came right in front of all of us. He didn’t even have to touch himself or do anything for it either. I looked back at Marcus and Froy, and Marcus’ face was frozen in a face of pure glee. He had the expression of a child witnessing Santa for the first time and couldn’t be happier. Froy on the other hand was completely mortified. The poor thing didn’t know how to react. Wes was barely able to keep his focus on the road because of the way he was feeling. He just came in his pants. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what that pill did to him. Wes stopped the truck at a nearby tree and turned off the truck, running out and checking the damages at a tree out of sight. The three of us followed suit. Marcus didn’t even look the least bit guilty about what he just did. Froy stood by me, waiting and watching for what happened next. “What the fuck did you give me?” Wes asked. Marcus waved his hands in the air. “Nothing! I swear it was just a bunch of random shit I found in my kitchen. I didn’t think it would do anything.” “Well, it did! Now my favorite pants are ruined.” Wes stepped back into the moonlight where we saw a massive wet spot all over his crotch. If we didn’t know it was cum, we might’ve mistaken it for piss just by its sheer quantity. I didn’t think it was possible to cum so much. Judging by the defined outline running down his left thigh as well, it seemed he was hiding more than just one secret. The short man had to compensate somewhere. “God damn it, Marcus.” “Come on, I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t mean it. I was gonna try it on myself, but I wanted to see if it—” “If it killed me?” “Well, no, but—” “I can’t believe I already wet myself… I haven’t even had a fucking bottle yet. You owe me for this.” Marcus shot me a look of relieved anguish, knowing he wasn’t going lose his job or his friendship. He walked up to Wes and helped him clean up by the tree. While Wes and Marcus were off cleaning up, Froy and I wandered a bit off to the forest to take in the beautiful nighttime scenery overlooking the city. The city lights shined brightly over the trees. They gave off an iridescent spotlight-lit night sky that shadowed the tree leaves and branches, blocking out the stars but lighting up the darkness. “This is a great view,” I said. “Yes, sir,” Froy replied. As we were enjoying our quiet time alone together, Froy noticed what looked like a shooting star in the empty sky. Wes and Marcus came over and joined us in staring at the falling light. A thought occurred to me, however, that this was not how falling stars normally worked. It looked as though it were literally falling out of the sky. I’m pretty sure falling stars aren’t supposed to look like they’re coming straight at us. “Hey, that’s no fucking shooting star, you idiots! That’s a meteor!” Wes said. “Hide behind something!” We could barely react when we saw that it was already a building’s height away from us. Froy and I hid behind a nearby tree. Marcus sprinted across to the truck with Wes. The burning rock rang a piercing loud screech in our ears before crash landing into the clearing between us and the truck. Flaming debris flew everywhere, covering the area in a black soot. Smoke filled the air for a good few minutes until we were able to breathe and see things again. All four of us emerged from our hiding spots and eyed the strange rock. Froy, Wes, and I approached it hesitantly, watching it from a distance in case it had any surprises waiting to pop out and do some serious harm. It could have had some new viruses or small flesh-eating aliens hiding inside. I highly doubted our job’s insurance program covered space AIDS. Meanwhile, while three of us were being careful, Marcus decided to make a headstart and gingerly walked up to it. He stuck out his hands and felt the intense heat emanating from the meteor. “What are you doing, Marcus?! Get back here where it’s safe,” Wes said. Marcus looked back and smiled. “Relaaax, it’s not gonna do anythingI” When the rest of us got to surround the meteor, it seemed to have cooled off. All four of us examined it closely, checking for any dangerous movements or glowing substances sticking out. For the next few minutes, it just seemed like it was a regular, boring old rock—from space. It didn’t grow a face and sing show tunes like I expected. I’d be lying if I said wasn’t disappointed. “It just seems like a rock,” Froy said. “Obviously,” Marcus said. “But what’s inside?” “If it's anything like your head, not much,” Wes said. “Then there’s nothing to worry about, right?” Marcus stepped into the crater and slammed his hands onto the meteor. He began pressing down on it with his body weight, trying to pressure it to crack open and reveal whatever monstrosity was inside of it. Froy and I backed away while Wes stepped forward and tried prying Marcus off of it. “Marcus, what are you doing?! Stop!” “I just wanna see what’s inside! It might have space diamonds, Wes!” Marcus let out a yell as he used all his strength and cracked open the meteor. From the crack, a neon green liquid splurged out, spilling onto Marcus’ shirt. He panicked, wondering what the hell the scentless, luminescent goo was, when suddenly the crack opened up further. It erupted, blasting a mortified Marcus with the strange gunk. He was covered head to toe, front to back, unable to even open his mouth or eyes in pure horror. The meteor now looked unstable. It was rumbling, and cracks began spreading from where Marcus first breached its outer shell. More and more of the green liquid spurted out. It didn’t seem long before it would explode. Marcus grumbled for help, running towards Wes. “Hey, stop! Don’t get that shit on me! I just got my pants dry!” Wes yelled. Before Marcus could even get to him, the meteor exploded. Nuclear green slime flew everywhere. Marcus got blasted back onto the ground by the sheer amount he was covered in. He didn’t look like he could move very well at all anymore. Wes was yelling out Marcus’ name when the goo flew into his mouth and covered his entire front from head to toe. I could hear him yelling as he swallowed it. “Sir!” As the meteor exploded towards us, Froy ran up to me. He used his body as a shield to block me from the slime, with his back spread out against the meteor. I looked up at him and saw fear in his eyes. Neither of us could move from where we were as we were frozen in absolute shock about what just happened. The meteor settled down, and there was green slime absolutely everywhere. It coated the trees, the grass, the soil, everything. Marcus was absolutely drenched in it, struggling to even stand up. Wes ran to a tree and began vomiting, trying to expel whatever he swallowed and trying to get himself clean again. Froy’s entire backside and his arms were completely covered. He shook his body as much as he could to try and get it off of him. “What the fuck just happened?” I asked. “That fucking—pfthuh—piece of shit meteor just fucking exploded!” Wes yelled, spitting out the remnants. “Are we going to fucking die?!” Marcus yelled, on his knees, crying in anguish at the sky, looking like a grotesque smile monster. “I don’t wanna fucking die, god!” “This is all your fault!” Wes said. “I’m fucking aware of that, Wes! I wasn’t expecting the meteor to be a fucking water balloon filled with green shit!” “Okay, everyone, just relax!” I said. “We just need to get clean and report this to the police so they can clean it up or something.” Marcus and Wes turned and glared at me, clean and dry from head to toe. “We can’t tell anyone about this! If the authorities find out we fucked with some meteor and got caught with some disease, then we might be forced to spend time in a lab until we die,” Wes said. Marcus pointed at me. “And why the fuck are you dry? Did you tell your little boytoy intern to be your shield?!” “No, he ran up to me himself. I didn’t tell him to do anything, Marcus.” “Fucking shit, man…” I stood watch by the truck while Froy, Wes, and Marcus cleaned themselves up by the river. It was nearly midnight when they got back looking absolutely exhausted after trying to get every drop of slime off their bodies for the past few hours. They dumped all their clothes in Wes’ gym bag and got into his truck in nothing but wet underwear. ‘Uncomfortable’ could not even begin to explain the atmosphere. I couldn’t even be bothered to appreciate all the hot, semi-naked bodies surrounding me when I was still reeling over what the hell just happened. I’d already seen all of them shirtless before at least once, but I had yet to see Froy’s business. Did he prefer boxers or briefs? Was he a shower or a grower? It didn’t seem that important. All I knew was that Wes was thick and hung like a motherfucker. “This has to be our secret, got it?” Wes said. “No one else can know about this.” We all agreed. None of us were in the mood to get dissected or experimented on for the rest of our lives. As Wes drove away, heading to his condo, I took one last look back at the scene. The meteor looked like a cracked egg that got blown up in a microwave. However, what seemed strange to me was how there seemed to be a lot less slime than before. What used to be a complete sheet of glowing green slime over everything was now mostly back to normal with some freckles here and there. It must have either dissipated in the atmosphere or got absorbed into the ground. Either way, it didn’t seem like that was just going to end there. I could feel in my gut that this wasn’t the last time this meteor was going to be a part of our lives. If the slime did get absorbed in the ground and trees, then what would happen with humans? There was no way they didn’t at least absorb some of it. There was just no way. Regardless, this was going to be our secret from now on. It seemed our little threesome just became a foursome.
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  6. This is a story I wrote years ago for my "Muscle Addicts Inc" blog. I've been going over it and making a few tweaks here and there and thought I'd share it here as I work on it. It's far from perfect but some of you guys might like it, or parts of it anyway! CHARLIE’S SECRET One My name is Charlie Steatham and I have a secret. It’s not a secret because it’s something I’m ashamed of. On the contrary, it’s something I love having. A part of me I wouldn’t ever want to change. It’s just not the kind of thing that would really be appropriate to tell a person in most given situations, or the kind of thing the majority of people would really understand even if I did. Let me tell you how I came to discover I even had this secret to keep. It was one Saturday afternoon back in England. I was home alone and innocently flicking through a magazine my parents bought weekly, which specialised in, of all things, radio and television listings. I wasn’t really reading it, just half heartedly turning the pages, stopping every now and then to linger on the odd thing which caught my attention, unbeknownst to me that I was about to stumble on to something which would have the strangest, and most incredible effect on me. An effect like nothing had ever had on me before. Something which would lead me to a world I never even knew existed. I remember feeling my eyes physically widening when I first saw the picture, and how it felt like my heart actually stopped beating for just a millisecond of time. Staring at it, I couldn’t quite get my head around what I was seeing, and why it seemed to have me so completely transfixed. Staring up at me from the page, was the most grotesquely muscular man I had ever seen. Every single one of his body parts was enormous. From the neck up he just looked like an ordinary man, he was handsome for sure, with nothing particularly special about his features, except for the fact his skin was a dark bronzed colour with an oily shine, but from the neck down, his whole body was a mass of gigantically huge, almost cartoon-like balloons of hard, smooth, muscle, bulging so much they looked as if they were about to burst. Every muscle was deeply separated, and most had a number of thick, wiry veins running across them. I had seen muscular guys before. Movie stars and athletes with six packs and tight, hard toned bodies, but the man in this image was something else entirely. He didn’t even look like a human being. He looked like a new superior species of the human race. A sick experiment gone wrong. Some kind of otherworldly creature, computer generated for a superhero film. As this monstrously massive muscle freak of nature, completely naked except for a small, shiny, green pouch covering his genitals, his hands resting on the top of his enormously thick legs, biting down on his lower lip and his face contorted into an almost arrogant but hugely proud expression, like he was having a whale of a time simply just possessing that freakishly huge, anatomy chart like body, stared up at me from the pages of this incredibly ordinary magazine in the living room of my parents incredibly ordinary house, I was completely and utterly hypnotised. My heart was pounding, my mind was racing, and for some reason, my penis was rock hard, twitching and pushing against the material of my boxers and jeans which were now struggling to contain it. This thing which had unexpectedly intruded on me from another world seemed to have this incredible hold and power over me, and I had now idea why. It didn’t feel wrong, but I knew that whatever this effect it was having on me was, it definitely wasn’t of the ordinary. After staring at the image for what seemed like hours, I forced myself out of my muscle obsessed trance, and tried to focus my mind on something else, but I couldn’t. My mind had been invaded, and my thoughts completely taken over by the image of that freakishly huge mountain of enormous muscle. I needed to see it again. I took the magazine into my bedroom and lay on my side on the bed, my upper body perched up by my elbow, the magazine next to me, flat on the bed. I flicked through the pages to try and find the image, and when I did, it was like I was seeing it for the first time all over again. I had no idea what was happening to me, all I knew was that in front of me was something so amazing and special. I had never desired anything more than this specimen of extreme muscle mass. This huge, hulking mountain of thick, superhuman muscle with his air of incredible power, extreme arrogance and hyper masculinity was the most beautiful and sexually provocative thing I had ever laid eyes on. I reached for my throbbing hard on, bulging and straining through my jeans, gently squeezed and started tugging. Soon enough I was popping open the buttons of my jeans and my white cotton boxer encased hard on was sticking out. I tugged and wanked, all the time staring at the muscle freak before me. Staring at the huge mounds of croquet ball shaped muscles which popped from his arms and fought for space with his perfectly smooth and insatiably thick chest, which looked like it was made of marble, but had tiny, wiry veins spread across the upper half. Staring at how his deeply carved shoulders ballooned like two watermelons trapped under bronzed tinted skin, which tightly stretched across the enormous, smooth muscle and looked unhealthily thin. Staring at his six beautifully shaped stomach muscles which looked like they had been carved with a knife. Staring at the incredible mass of lines and ripples etched into his tremendously large, hard looking leg muscles, and while staring at this presumably once ordinary sized man who’d built and moulded his entire body to extreme proportions and made himself look like a member of an entirely new, superior species, who looked up at me from my bed with an expression of complete and utter self satisfaction, and his air of incredible power and arrogance, my entire body seemingly shook, the most pleasurable sensation I’d ever had consumed my entire body, I let out a loud groan of ecstasy and my boxers filled up with a wet creamy liquid. Staring at a picture of, who I later found out was one of the top professional American bodybuilders of the time, hitting a most muscular pose on stage at a bodybuilding competition in probably the best condition of his career, I’d masturbated and made myself cum for the first time in my life. From that moment on, I’ve been completely obsessed with huge, freaky muscle. Nothing turns me on more than the image of competition ready, monstrously muscular, indecently shredded bodybuilders who live and breathe for being huge, who love nothing more than to climb into small, brightly coloured posing trunks, made of the shiniest material imaginable, and to stand in front of a camera, or an audience, and flex, tense and squeeze their cartoonishly big, deliciously carved, deeply separated balloons of thick, hardcore muscle mass, looking both impossibly beautiful and inhumanly grotesque in equal measures, loving every single moment of showing off their phenomenally built, superhero-worthy, circus sideshow freak-like bodies. As one can imagine, it’s a fantasy that stubbornly stays at that; a fantasy. How many ripped and peeled competitive bodybuilders sporting biceps bigger than the size of the average man’s head do you see walking round your local supermarket? None. And how many jacked and shredded muscle freaks one week away from competing at their fourth bodybuilding show of the year do you see on a Friday night at the local pub? Absolutely zero. Of course, there have been some very rare, and exceptionally brilliant moments where I’ve encountered fairly big guys sporting some pretty decently sized muscle, one or two of whom could have easily stepped onto a bodybuilding stage at some point, at various places, and of course, those moments will probably be forever etched into my memory, but for the most part, genuinely huge muscle guys, and certainly bodybuilders like the one in the magazine I found all those years ago, and the ones I have spent countless hours watching and viewing ever since, still remain an extremely elusive and rare breed. The world of extreme bodybuilding is an exceptionally small one, to which I have no ties or belonging to. Except for finding the courage to attend a bodybuilding show which I’ve yet to do, it’s a world I didn’t think there was much chance I would ever step into. That was, until today. Or to be more precise, two Tuesday’s ago, when Professor Walsh (officially my favourite lecturer from the university in California I’m temporarily studying at for a term) presented myself and my fellow students from my Video and Audio Production Techniques class with a list of the options for the first, one day work experience placement of the semester. This is a day where every student on the course has the opportunity to participate in the filming of various types of film, television and video productions. Every student has to select three options, and the Professor tries her best to assign the student to one of their choices. This is not always possible though because, as you can imagine, some of the options are more popular than others and there are only so many students allowed on each placement. Some of the students, usually the louder, more extroverted ones, were intent on getting the big gigs like production on the set of a film, and popular television talk shows. Personally, I was happy with anything that would give me some experience. Copies of the list were passed around to raised voices and excited chatter. I scanned the list to see, sure enough, a well known television talk show, work on an independent film, the set of a fairly well known cop show from cable who were filming in the area, work for a local news television station, and some more fairly obscure productions. Although nothing was particularly standing out as something I had a real desire to do, it all sounded pretty exciting. And then, as my eyes steered down to the bottom of the page, they suddenly widened, my heart leaped into my throat, and I almost couldn’t believe what I saw written on the last line, as the very last option; Filming Backstage at a Local Bodybuilding Competition. My head was spinning. Was this really happening? Was the universe finally providing me with an entry into this world I never thought I would enter? I kept checking the list, looking at the words again, just to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating, and sure enough, there it was. My opportunity to be at, and take part in the filming of an actual bodybuilding competition. I suddenly pictured myself backstage at a bodybuilding competition, in a space packed full of massive, bronzed painted muscle men wearing nothing but tiny sized, thinly strapped posing trunks, each pair shinier and brighter than the next. Every single superhuman muscle brute of a man intensely pumping up his shockingly huge muscles, grunting and huffing with every lift as their huge slabs of man meat strain and bulge through their completely hairless, drum tight skin, and me, standing next to a cameraman, closely filming every single pump of a massive, competition conditioned All American muscle freak, mere inches away from his blown up balloons of bulging, rippling muscle. The fact that I was looking at the opportunity to be in the presence of the kind of muscle bulls I’d been wanking off over for years and to see their enormous, freaky muscle up close in person was mind blowing. However, it terrified me just as much as it excited me. The two days which followed were spent agonising over what to do with this opportunity I’d been unexpectedly faced with. My mind was completely split in half. It felt like two voices had invaded my head, one voice saying, “You have to do this. This is a rare, once in a lifetime opportunity and you will never get this again. It will absolutely amazing, it will blow your mind and you’ll get to see real life, genuine muscle freaks pumping, flexing and posing close up. Deep down you know you want to do this, and if you don’t, you will always regret it.” Meanwhile, the other voice was shouting, “Don’t be stupid, you can’t do this. You will make a fool of yourself. You will feel uncomfortable and nervous. People will look at you and think you are strange. And how will you explain your reason for wanting to do this to your classmates, and Professor Walsh?” One minute, a certain voice would sound clearer than the other, and I would make what I thought was my final decision. But then, out of nowhere, the other voice would suddenly shout up again, and I’d start to doubt my decision again. Even on the day of handing in our choices, sitting in Professor Walsh’s class, with five minutes to spare before the lesson came to a close, I still hadn’t made my final decision. I also knew that if I selected the bodybuilding competition, there was a very good chance I would get the placement. I couldn’t say for definite, but I knew it was fairly unlikely that any of my other classmates would select it as an option. There were a couple of guys in my class with a little bit of muscle on them who clearly went to the gym, but I would have been highly surprised if any of them had a genuine interest in bodybuilding. It was, without a doubt, one of those obscure placements to make up the numbers which nobody wanted to end up on. Well, almost nobody. Professor Walsh was wrapping up the lesson. “OK, class, you might have noticed this red box at the front of my desk.” This was it. My time was up. “By now I presume you’ve all made your three choices for next weekend’s work experience placement,” Professor Walsh continued. “If you’d like to place your completed sheets into the box as you leave. Please keep in mind, you are not guaranteed a place on any of your choices. We will do our best to assign you to one of your choices, but due to limited spaces on each placement, in some cases this will not be possible.” My classmates had started to shift and while everyone was getting out their sheets and gathering their bags in order to leave, I was staring at my sheet with my pen anxiously hovering over it. Two of my choices had been ticked, which just left one. The words “Bodybuilding Competition” leered up at me, testing my every nerve and ounce of bravery. My pen was wavering from the tick box next to it, to the box next to the option of “Production on a Music Video.” The voices in my head both clearer and more frantic than ever, one in battle with the other. Bodybuilding Competition Charlie, you HAVE to do this! Music Video Don’t be stupid. You will make a fool of yourself. Bodybuilding Competition Just imagine it! Real life, genuine muscle freaks pumping, flexing and posing close up! Music Video You will feel uncomfortable and nervous. People will look at you, and think you are strange! Bodybuilding Competition Deep down you know you want to do this, and if you don’t, you know you will ALWAYS regret it! And with one quick motion, I ticked the box next to my third and final option, and my fate was sealed. My heart was pounding as I approached the box on Professor Walsh’s desk, and my hands were shaking slightly as I dropped the sheet in. The second after, I glanced up to see Professor Walsh looking at me behind her desk. A friendly smile was trying to mask an expression of curiosity and slight confusion. She had clearly noticed my anxiety and I felt a sharp, brief pinch that I might have been rumbled. The incident quickly faded from memory, and as I left the classroom and walked along the corridor, the strongest emotion of elation, sheer pride and an overwhelming feeling that I had just done something amazing came over me. I had just taken one step closer to that crazy, amazing world of huge, freaky muscle I never thought I would ever be able to enter.
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  7. Here is the second part of Camjerk. I hope it's as good as you expect! Please let me know what you think, even if it sucks. Part 1 ______________________________________________ My cock twitched, and I felt a surge of cum shoot into the shaft and launch from the tip into the air, landing on my keyboard, and then more spurts, hitting my face, my shirt, and even more on the keyboard. I shot volley after volley, until it was just dribbling down and onto my hand. I sat there, out of breath, panting, looking at my dick as the remnants of my cum-fest drooled down my hand and my dick. That was a huge load, surprisingly so, after the load I already blew so short of a time ago. I looked back at the screen on my desk, and there he was, the person responsible for my ejaculation. My heart was thumping in my chest. I didn't know how to respond to him. But then it occurred to me that he had the wrong person. He must have me confused with someone else. That's gotta be it. There's no way he's my neighbor. I finally removed my hand from my dick. Everything was a mess, but at this point, I was fully invested in this dude. Nothing would stop me from enjoying this. But what do I say? I wanna see more, and if I tell him he's surely thinking of someone else, he might disappear. But he spoke first. "Dude, you there?" He was simply sitting there now, a concerned look on his face. I didn't like how I couldn't see his entire body anymore, but it was still so hot seeing him from the abs up. His arms were bulging, and he wasn't even flexing. His pecs were jutting out, nipples pointing down, and they had such hot pec cleavage. His abs were clenching as he would lean forward and back in his chair. His obliques were prominent, too. So fucking hot. "Dude?" He called for me again. I looked at his face and he was so cute. He looked worried. I let out a sigh, and I guess I had to say something. Me: i'm here. "Oh okay, you had me worried there for a sec," he said. "Thought maybe you logged off." Me: no i'm here. "Well then don't leave me hangin' dude! How 'bout it? Wanna come over?" He was smiling, and his traps were bulging. I don't know if he was flexing them on purpose, but they were looking pretty big just then. And I felt my dick beginning to plump up again. But I had to come clean. Me: I have to be honest with you, i don't think i am who you think i am, i have no private info in my profile and there's no way you could know who i am. you mustve gotten lucky with my name. It was harder for me to care about my typing and spelling with my hands still covered in jizz. But I'm guessing he didn't mind my less formal style. "No, Mike, I know exactly who you are. I've passed you in the hall a bunch of times and I think you're hot. And uhhh... I hope you don't get mad but... funny thing about ground floor apartments is I can see inside your place. I swear I was just trying to learn more about you to see what you like, and I happened to catch you on this site. Sooo I decided to make my own account and hoped you would join my room." What. The. Fuck. He fucking watched me looking at dudes on this site? Which means he most likely watched me jerk off, too. "Please don't be mad, dude." What the fuck do I say? I mean, I'm definitely putting up better goddamn window treatment, for sure. I looked around and had to make sure no one was watching me this second. I sighed. I looked back at my computer screen and saw his cute face. All the anger I was initially feeling washed away. Well, his cute face AND his big bulging muscles made me rethink my emotions. Me: ok prove to me you know i am who i am. what do i look like? He grinned. "You're about 7 feet tall, have a mullet and a beard, and you like to dance naked listening to Toby Keith." I couldn't help but laugh at the last part. He had to be joking. And then he chuckled. "I'm kidding. You're around 6 feet tall, you have hair kind of like mine... wavy, but a darker brown. Not long, but not exactly short, either. Green eyes. Kind of athletic looking, but hard to tell because you often stay pretty covered up. The few times I've seen you wear shorts your lower legs look pretty thick. You tend to wear button-down shirts, and I believe you were wearing one even today when I saw you earlier." He stopped, keeping that smile on his face. Fuck, though. He was right. And I was wearing a button-down shirt today. Me: how'd you know about the Toby Keith thing? He laughed. "Well, guess I got lucky with that. But dude, was I right about the rest of it?" Me: yeah, i guess you do know who i am "Awesome! So, then, how about it?" Me: i guess this is all a bit too surreal though, i mean how could i believe a dude who can literally grow muscle and get huge would just happen to live in the same building as me AND want to meet me? "Dude you just watched it happen multiple times, and as for seeing how real I am, I guess you'd have to come over to find out." He winked. I pondered the situation for a few seconds. My heart was pounding, in truth. I knew already that I wanted to go meet him, to see how real this all was. Watching him grow in person would be infinitely better than just seeing it on a screen. But I also wanted to have some additional fun, first. Me: alright i think i might just take you up on that offer. but first... I sent that message, and I watched him read it. He sat in that chair, reading his screen, and I was still in awe looking at his muscled body. His round, bulbous shoulders rose and fell as he breathed, his arms bulging at his sides. His triceps really stood out, and it was so hot seeing how much they bulged and how I could see them even from the fronts of his arms. And they still had that vascularity, both arms had a prominent vein running down each that really stood out. "But first what?" he said, but immediately after that there was that telltale "DING" noise. I tipped him again. "Oh fuck, oh fuck..." he pushed himself away from his desk and stood up. His dick was only semi-hard now, but I expected it to grow and harden soon. He grinned. "So you do want me even bigger, huh? Watch." Just hearing him speak now was making my dick harden up again. He stood, arms at his sides, and I watched as his abs clenched. "Ohhh yeah..." he moaned a little. His pecs started to inflate some more, pushing out, growing bigger and bigger. His obliques became even more prominent, really making that V line stand out even more. That V line was so hot. And fuck, his abs. I watched as two new bricks etched themselves out, and he had a perfect 8 pack. He flexed into a double bicep, and I watched his arms rise up into huge boulders. "Watch this," he said. My dick throbbed. He turned around so his back was facing the camera, and holy FUCK. His back was a sight to behold, now covered with muscle. His arms still flexed, I watched them growing and throbbing, pulsing bigger and bigger with each of his heartbeats. "Unnghhhh!" I heard him moan, and his lats were widening more. His wings were flaring, and his V-taper was becoming more and more pronounced. "Oh fuck yeah, this feels so fucking good, dude!" And wow, I've never noticed glutes before, but with his back to me, I could see his ass growing. I could actually see the striations in his ass muscles, and he was even flexing them occasionally. I watched them bulge and contract as they grew. My dick was throbbing so hard, and oozing pre again. AGAIN. His ass was so amazing to look at, and I just wanted so badly to... well, I had to be honest with myself. I wanted to fuck him. "AHH!" My attention snapped back to his growth and I saw him suddenly shoot upward another inch in height. "Oh fuck yeah," he said, softly. FUCK. And his legs were swelling. He dropped his arms and turned back around, and I saw his arms hanging at an unbelievable angle from his body. Those lats were huge, even unflexed. I could now see his quads again as they grew, each head of the muscle clearly defined. His legs were pressing into each other now, and he had to widen his stance. And then... "Ahhhhh" he mostly sighed, and I watched his amazing dick starting to harden. It pulsed bigger and bigger and BIGGER, growing in time with his heartbeats, until it was standing up and hard as a steel pipe. And then it continued growing, thicker and longer. "Fuck yes, I love when my dick grows..." he said. His dick grew at least another two inches longer, and amazingly thick, and it was even beginning to leak pre. He flexed into a most muscular, and even growled a little for me. "Grrrrr!" I didn't even have my hand on my dick, and I came. I exploded. My dick suddenly throbbed harder than I'd ever felt before, and a huge volley of hot white cum shot out and straight up, so high it almost hit the ceiling, but dropped back down and splashed onto my keyboard. And then another shot, hitting my chin. It splattered all over. And then several other shots that continued coating my computer area with my spunk. I relaxed and just let it happen until it was just a slow dribble running out of my tip and down my shaft. He continued flexing on camera the whole time I was cumming, seemingly aware that I had reached my limit of sexual arousal. Or maybe not. I'm guessing flexing is what I'd do, too, if I'd just grown huge muscles, regardless of who was watching or what was going on. I was breathing hard, almost out of breath from my explosion. I could only sit there and watch him flexing those amazing muscles. But then he turned to the camera and walked back to his desk, pulling his chair back behind him and sitting down. Again, his frame took up considerably more space in the video shot than it had before. His shoulders were so wide now they were off the screen. He adjusted the camera upward since he was too tall to stay in the frame after that height increase. "So dude, did you enjoy that?" He said, smiling that smile. His face was even cocky, now. And that made this all that much hotter. Me: what do you think "Sweet! I did too, I love growing so fucking much. I bet you made a mess, huh?" I was becoming overly aware of how much of my spunk was everywhere. I'd probably have to buy a new keyboard altogether. I love how he already knew I loved watching him grow again, and what happened as a result. "So, how about it? You wanna come over?" he asked again. Me: hell yes i wanna come over "FUCK yeah!" he exclaimed. He even pumped his fists into the air. It was cute. It also made his arms flex, which was hot. "I'm on the next floor up in 2C. When can I expect you?" Me: uhhh as much as id like to run to your place right now, i think i ought to clean myself up first. ive made a big mess. give me some time? He laughed a hearty laugh. "Alright alright, but remember I know where you live so you better come over." He flexed his big gun right in front of the camera to emphasize his "threat," and then laughed some more. More of a giggle that time. And god, have I mentioned he was still cute, even as a muscle beast? Me: yeah i know where you live now too ill be there asap "Sweet, dude, can't wait!" He flexed a double bicep one more time, then clicked something with his mouse. The screen went blank and it said "The model is offline." I sighed. My dick was hardening, yet again, as I thought of going to see him for real. Plus that final flex he did before going offline made my heart flutter, too. FUCK! What was I waiting for?! I jumped out of my chair and started removing my clothes. They were covered in jizz. I used my undershirt to wipe off what mess I could from my desk and chair. I'd have to clean it all for real when I could, but I didn't want to waste any more time. I threw my clothes onto the floor near my hamper. I'd have thrown them in, but it just felt strange mixing them with my "normal" dirty clothes. Completely nude, I walked to my bathroom to shower. I didn't want to go see this dude all dirty and sweaty. I turned on the water, waiting for it to heat up. I looked into the mirror, and thought back to what he said about my being "athletic" looking. I guess my own time in the gym has paid off. I had a bit of a chest formed, pecs that were kind of full and pushing out. My arms weren't big or anything, but they were defined. I flexed an arm for myself, and I guess I could admit I had a nice ball of a bicep. And I did have abs, so there was that. Barely a 6 pack, but they were there. I looked down at my calves and remembered how he said I had "pretty thick" lower legs. Yeah, I guess my calves might even be my best muscle, really. I ran a lot, even before starting going to the gym on a more regular basis. I loved how they would bulge when I walked. I always thought big calves were sexy. Steam was permeating the air, and I realized the water was hot already. I flexed for myself once more, thinking about how great it must feel to grow. My dick twitched and started to grow a bit, but I went and adjusted the water temperature so I could shower. I stood in the shower, feeling the water washing over my body. My dick remained in a semi-hard state. My mind was picturing... wait, I never even got his name! Well, whatever his name is, I kept picturing and replaying in my mind the times that he grew on my computer screen. I had to keep refocusing on the task at hand; showering quickly. My dick kept twitching and pulsing, wanting to grow hard, and then I'd be tempted to jerk off again. No time for that. I washed all the jizz off my body, and made sure to shampoo my hair really well. I'm sure I got some cum there, too. And then the image of him when he was still skinny as a rail popped into my head. Watching him throw his head back as his shoulders broadened for the first time, and flexing his skinny arm and watching his bicep take form and swell. FUCK my dick was growing fast. Soon it was standing straight up. I shuddered, and kept my hands away from my dick as I rinsed off the remaining soap from my body. I hopped out of the shower, my dick bouncing as I did, and toweled off. I needed to get moving. I didn't want my "date", for lack of a better term right now, to be kept waiting. I went to my bedroom and quickly got dressed, pulling on a simple black T-shirt and cargo shorts. I went back to the bathroom and fixed my hair so it wasn't all over the place, and I couldn't help but notice that I did look pretty athletic. My shirt was hugging my body quite nicely. I never bothered to really check myself out, but my "date" made me start thinking about it when he said I looked athletic. I was actually really happy that the gym was doing me some good. I put my shoes on and left my apartment, being sure to lock the door behind me. I headed up the stairs, and then made my way to the end of the hallway where 2C was. My heart was thudding in my chest, pounding faster and faster as I approached the door. I wasn't sure what to expect. I mean, I had an image in my mind of what would be standing in the doorway when the door was opened, but this all seemed too surreal, like I was dreaming. I was so nervous. I took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. I couldn't believe what I saw when the door opened. It was him. But, it was... pre-transformation him. He was shorter than me, maybe around 5'9", and he was super skinny. "Hey," he greeted me, smiling. He was fully clothed again, wearing a black T-shirt, like mine, and another pair of red gym shorts. My mouth had to have been hanging open. I was expecting the muscle-bound guy who I saw on the Camjerk website! "Come in, dude!" he said as he stepped aside. I tentatively stepped forward, entering his apartment. His place was similarly laid out. The kitchen area was just inside the doorway, and beyond was the living room area. To the left was a short hallway that led to the bedroom and bathroom. His place was pretty clean for a guy so young. I mean, I wasn't much older, but usually 21 year-olds aren't so focused on cleanliness. "I, uhhh, suppose you might be wondering why I'm this size again." I nodded. "Funny thing about my ability is when the source is cut off, I begin to shrink back to this size. Which is okay! I love to experience it over and over again." He grinned at me. That face... up close, and real... it was even cuter. He was so attractive. I felt my dick twitch. I started to wonder what his plan was, if he had one at all. Was he going to grow again for me? Was he going to have me on cam with him while he got tips from other people? I realized just then that I was making this awkward. I hadn't even said anything to him yet. "Yeah! I mean... I'm sure it does feel great. To grow, I mean," I finally blurted out. I was stuttering. "I'm Zach, by the way. I realized earlier that I never told you my name. Come on, let's go sit. Want anything to drink?" he asked. "Nah, man, I'm okay for now." "You sure? I've got beer, now that I'm old enough to buy it," he chuckled. I smiled, and laughed a little with him. "No, man, I'm good. For now, anyway." He gestured towards the sofa in the living room. It was pointed at a surprisingly large TV that was mounted on the wall. We both walked over to it, and he sat down. I sat down next to him, and we both didn't say anything for a few seconds. I didn't know what to say, really. I just stared at the blank TV screen as though there was something on. I had to say something, though. This felt too awkward, and I wanted to see where things went. "So, what's the plan?" I asked. He giggled. "I don't know, dude. I wasn't even sure you'd come over, to be honest. But, uhhh, I just wanna finally say it in person. You're hot." He blushed just then, his face turning bright red. I chuckled a little. "You know I think you're hot already. I came like, three times watching you on cam. Made a mess of everything. Didn't even touch myself for at least one of those times. And you're super cute." I felt the blood rush to my face and knew I was turning red as well. He grinned. "So, I have to ask, are you gonna try to grow again?" He smiled a mischievous, almost evil smile. "Of course, dude. Like I said before, I wanna see how much fun we can have without computers separating us." "Well, then, do you wanna go to your computer so you can get back on cam?" "Oh no, dude, that's just one way. A tip is like appreciation, right? So, there's other ways I can feel... appreciated." The smile that followed that statement was definitely evil. I felt my dick stir. He then said, "Have I mentioned yet that you look really hot? I've never seen you wear such a tight shirt before. Nice pecs." He nodded towards my chest, and I guess my chest was pushing it out a bit. And then he put his hand on my leg, and slowly slid it down toward my knee. Oh god, my dick was definitely growing and pulsing now. I leaned toward him, and he toward me, and we kissed for the first time. It was a soft kiss, light, but it felt so nice. My dick responded with a throb, and butterflies entered my stomach. We smiled at each other. "Ready?" he asked. Fuck. I wasn't sure I'd be able to keep from cumming too soon. "H-how are you gonna do it?" I asked in response. "Just play along, and you'll see," he said, almost in a whisper. "You're already hard," he said, definitely in a whisper that time. He nodded toward my crotch. He lightly brushed his hand over it, and it made me shudder. He took his hand away, and flexed his skinny arms. There was barely a mound rising up on each. It was almost something you'd expect to see as a joke, and I felt ashamed for even thinking that. "Feel them, Mike," he said, still whispering. He said to play along, and my heart was pounding. I reached my hands over, and placed them on his biceps... or what would usually be considered biceps, had there been any there. I rubbed them, squeezed a little, and let my fingers slide along the length of his arms. "Now feel my chest," he commanded, a little louder this time. I put my hands on his flat chest, and felt it through his shirt. I let my hands run from one side to the other, and even ran them down to his stomach. His abs weren't there anymore, but his stomach wasn't exactly soft, either. My hands ran back up his torso, and I let them graze his shoulders. Then up to his traps and neck. "Oh fuck, oh fuck... yeah, this feels amazing, dude. I'm picturing it, what it'd be like if I was bigger, and you feeling me up, and I can feel it. Oh fuck, it's happening... unnghhh." And holy fuck. He threw his head back, like he did when he first grew on Camjerk, and I saw it happening again. For real. His shoulders were widening, growing, rounding out. They were getting bigger. And his traps were slowly taking shape, rising up slightly, swelling. I saw some movement under his shirt, and his chest was beginning to push out. Two mounds were slowly taking shape under the fabric, and I could feel my dick throbbing in response. FUCK! He raised his head again, looking at me, smirking. "This feels even better than before, dude." He straightened his arms out, and started flexing them again. This time, though, his biceps were taking shape. He flexed, and then unflexed, then flexed again. Each time, his biceps bulged up bigger than before. "Fuck yeah, oh yeah," he'd grunt with each flex. He squeezed out one final flex with his arms, and they stopped swelling. "Oh god, dude, that felt so good." My dick was throbbing so hard in my shorts, and I could feel the wetness of pre leaking into the fabric. FUCK I didn't want to cum so soon, but I didn't know if I could take much more. I didn't want to soil my clean shorts already, although the pre was already kind of doing that. He kept his arms flexed, and they were already pretty hot. Nicely shaped, bulging up, and I could already see those veins from before. But then he took his right hand and placed it under my chin, and pulled my face to his and kissed me. Hard. "Mmmmf" I gasped with his mouth on mine. His tongue entered, and I attempted to wrestle it with my own. I felt his hand running up my leg, and I mean up, not down like last time, and I shuddered. If he touched my dick, I'd probably cum. Luckily he pulled away, and broke the kiss. "You ready for more?" he asked, somewhat cockily. "Dude, I don't know if I can keep from cumming..." I bashfully responded. He glanced at the tent I was pitching, and smirked. "Duh, dude. That's the point. If I'm not making you cum, then I'm not doing my job. And, uh, I'll tell you now, it helps." And then he grabbed my wrists with his hands and placed them on his newly formed pec muscles. "Ohhh yes..." he breathed. I took the hint and let my hands press and feel his now harder chest, and let my hands roam over his newly formed muscles. I made my way to his arms, and they felt way better than before. They were harder, and felt muscly. I moved my hands to his legs and prodded them through his shorts, and they too were more muscled. I heard him gasp. "Shit, dude, I can feel it coming again. Oh god, yeah, here it comes, it's happening!" He closed his eyes, and his mouth was hanging open as the sensation washed over him. God it even looked like it felt good. My dick was oozing pre, throbbing, and my shorts were getting wetter and wetter. And then I saw it happening. He was swelling all over. His shoulders were growing bigger, wider, and I could see his traps rising up again. This time they became more pronounced, pushing the collar of his T-shirt up. His chest was pushing out of his shirt, creating definite outlines in the fabric. His eyes snapped open, and he grinned. "Fuck yeah, dude, I wanna grow so big for you," he said, and I felt my dick spasm. I was so close to exploding into my shorts. I could feel it. And then I saw his lats taking form again, pushing out against the sides of his shirt. He lifted the bottom of his shirt and his abs were taking shape again, getting back some definition. And his legs, I saw them pushing up against his shorts as he sat there. Then, he flexed his arms. They bulged, bigger than seconds before, pushing up into the fabric, filling the space that was left in the sleeves of his shirt until they tightened. He straightened his arms and flexed again, grunting, and the sleeves were even tighter, digging into his skin. I felt the pressure in my crotch reach its peak as he flexed his arms, and I felt the sharp sensation of an ejaculation erupting from my balls and into the shaft of my cock, shooting through its length and out of the tip. "FUCK!" I yelled, as I felt shot after shot of cum shooting into my shorts, a hot wet sensation expanding throughout. "Oh fuck," I said again. I shuddered, and I heard Zach chuckle. I looked over at him, and he had an evil glint in his eyes, and a smirk on his face. "Dude, you just came for me, and--oh fuck--this is about to get--ungghh--really fun!" His neck thickened and his voice deepened a little. His traps swelled upward again. He stood up from the sofa and planted himself in front of me, and I caught a glimpse of his calves swelling and bulging. He caught my gaze and said "It's only just beginning," and flashed that smile again. "Unnghhfuck" he moaned, and he started growing. His chest was really swelling fast, pushing out, pressing into the fabric of his shirt, causing stress lines to form. His shoulders were broadening again, growing bigger and bigger, and his sleeves were riding up his arms. What little space left in his sleeves was gone, and now even unflexed, his arms completely filled them. And fuck, his legs were pressing into his shorts, now. Once again, he looked like a junior bodybuilder, and was still growing. And then I felt my dick starting to harden again. Jesus, I wonder how much I could cum in one day? My balls were producing cum just for Zach. "Ohh yeah, I love this part, don't you?" My attention was brought back to Zach when he spoke, and I quickly realized what he was going to do. He had his arms raised, and I was excited to see it happen. "Unghh" he grunted suddenly, and he grew upward by maybe an inch, surprising even him. Small tears could be heard as his shirt was giving up the fight to contain his torso. "No fair! I'm flexing out of this shirt!" he exclaimed, and I guess I had to agree, it's hotter to see him flex out of a shirt. My dick agreed with a throb. He raised his arms up, and then BAM! Flexed into a mind-blowing double-bicep, his arms exploded with size, and the enormous sound of tearing cloth resounded through the apartment. RRIIIIIIP!!! The sleeves exploded, ripping all the way to the collar of his shirt, the sleeves reduced literally just to shreds. "FUCK YEAH!" he exclaimed. He took the remains of his shirt and ripped the rest from his body, leaving his torso bare. "Fuck that shirt, dude. I want you to see these muscles!" "OH fuck, Zach..." I gasped, my dick throbbing, pitching a huge tent in my shorts. "Yeah, dude. Fuck yeah. Getting fucking huge, right?" I nodded rapidly, feeling pre leaking from my dick again into my already soggy shorts. He grinned, but shook his head. "No, no I'm not. This is small. You wanna see me get huge? Come on, we're not behind keyboards anymore. Make me huge, dude!" He bent down and flexed his arm in my face. The bicep bulged up, huge, with a large vein running its length. I felt my inhibitions disappear with that muscle bulging in my face, and I moved my face closer and gave it a kiss. I kissed his bicep, and then sucked a little on the peak. I licked it, and then ran my tongue all around it. I heard Zach chuckle a bit, which then turned into a small moan. "Ummff..." I stood up, grasping his arm with my hands, and stood face to face with him. He kept his arm flexed, and I squeezed it with my left hand. But then I took my right hand and started rubbing him all over, starting with his pecs. I poked the now larger muscles, feeling the rocks they'd become. So fucking hard. I ran my hand to his abs, and traced my finger along the crevices between the bricks, and I could feel them clenching with his breaths. My hand wandered back up to his lats, and then to his back, where a vicious terrain of muscle had developed. My left hand never left his hot bicep, the muscle pulsing under it. My right hand wandered up to his traps, and fuck, they felt so amazing. I loved traps, and I knew Zach did, too. "Oh god, yesssss..." Zach breathed. And then I bent my knees and put my face near his chest, and ran my tongue up his pec cleavage. "Oh fuck, dude, FUCK!" I could feel Zach shudder beneath my hands, and I knew I had to be doing amazing things, priming him for an epic growth spurt. I brought my hands down, both of them, and put them on his ass. His glutes had grown a little, and I squeezed each cheek. I felt him flex, and my dick throbbed, squirting more pre into my shorts. "Oh god, yeah, fuck yeah, bro it's coming, get ready... watch me, look at what--unnghh--you've done to me...." I stepped back, and got a good look at him as he stood there. His mouth was hanging open again, almost like he was moaning with no sound. His arms were hanging at his sides, and I noticed his triceps were bulging. I saw his chest heaving from his heavy breathing, and then I saw something else. His chest was growing. His pecs were ballooning outward, swelling, as his nipples pointed more and more downward. And then I saw his traps rising up towards his ears as his shoulders broadened even more. "Ohhhhh yeahhhh this feels so good!" he moaned. He started to flex his chest, bouncing his pecs. His abs were developing further, becoming more and more defined, and it was definitely an 8-pack again. Watching his abs clenching with his breathing and movement was so fucking hot. And his obliques were becoming more defined as well, making that V-line really stand out, and fuck, who doesn't find a V-line sexy? But then I heard a soft rip. I looked toward the source, and I realized his legs were growing, too. His quads had gotten so big his shorts looked painted on, and then I heard another rip. "Fuuuuck..." Zach whispered. "Gonna flex, dude, make these shorts disappear..." he whispered again. And then he did it. He flexed his quads as hard as he could, and his shorts exploded all the way up to the waistband, his legs bulging with pure muscle, huge defined quads exposed to the air. His shorts were just flaps of cloth hanging from an elastic band around his waist. And his legs were still growing. He then took a moment to flex his calves, and they too were growing bigger and bigger. But then I noticed his arms. They were being pushed farther away from his body by his growing, swelling lats. And what lats they were! FUCK! They were becoming wings, and his arms were growing, too! He flexed his right arm, looking at it lustfully. It exploded with size, peaking high into the air, veins wrapping all around. He flexed his other arm, and it was even bigger. He was beyond bodybuilder big, now, and I felt a strong compulsion envelop me. I stepped forward, pressing my body into him. My hard dick pressed against his abs, and I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his back muscles. I placed my hands on his ass feeling the insanely hard muscle. I squeezed like I did before, and his ass was rock hard. FUCK! I was grinding my dick into his body, and I felt the cum welling up from my balls as an imminent ejaculation was developing. And then my dick exploded, shooting more cum into my already wet shorts, and I continued pressing my dick into his hard body. Shot after shot of cum squirted into my shorts, and I moaned. Zach chuckled. "I love how much you're enjoying this," he said. He flexed his arms, and I reached up and felt them. "You just came again, and--fuck--I can feel it coming." Butterflies entered my stomach again as I realized he was going to grow more. "Ahhh! AHH!" he yelled, as he shot up several inches in height, soon towering over me. His body was expanding in every direction now, growing more and more, packing pounds of muscle onto his frame. "Oh god, this is bigger than I've ever gotten before!" His height was continuing to increase, and his muscles continued growing. The waistband of his shorts snapped off, and the remains fluttered to the floor, and he now stood completely nude. He turned around, and flexed his biceps, making his back bulge, and his ass was phenomenal. His glutes were so muscled and big, and I realized now that I wanted nothing more than to stick my dick into his ass. I dropped my shorts, finally freeing myself of the mess I was wearing. My dick sprang out, hard again already. Or maybe I never went soft. It's hard to be soft around this much muscle. Zach had to be around 6'5" now, and considerably taller than me. And definitely more muscular. But he stood there, flexing his biceps, with his back to me. He then straightened his arms and finally flexed his triceps, and holy shit, they were amazing. His triceps were perfect horseshoes, and absolutely humongous. And yes, from behind, his traps were really evidently huge. He almost looked like he had no neck. But, he kept his back to me. I could hear my own breathing as I looked at him and lusted after his body. My eyes drifted back to his ass, and I could see striations in his glutes, and I felt my dick throb. I stepped forward, and pressed the head of my dick into his crack. He gasped. "There's the fuckin' tip I want, dude," he said, gasping again, as I pressed harder. "But I need more than just the tip. Give me all of it." I didn't hesitate, and pressed myself all the way into him, and it felt amazing. It felt like we were two puzzle pieces meant to fit together. His hole was so hot, and I could feel his muscles clenching around me like a loving caress. I started fucking him from behind, ramming myself into him. The waves of pleasure radiating around my body were like nothing I've ever felt, and Zach started grunting and moaning. "Oh fuck, dude, yeah, fuck me, unghhhh," he moaned. "This is--oh fuck--the biggest tip I've ever--nnnggggg--gotten!" And then I saw it. Every time I thrusted into him, he grew and bulged all over. Another thrust, and his muscles swelled. And then again, only this time his height increased more. I was already getting close to cumming, and I increased the fervor of my fucking. More and more I fucked him, and he continued getting bigger and bigger, grunting with each thrust. I felt the unmistakable pressure building up in my crotch, and I knew I was gonna cum. "Fuck, Zach, I'm gonna cum!" "Do it, dude. Fucking cum in me," Zach breathed, his massive body heaving. And that was it. He clenched around my dick once more, and I felt the explosion take place that launched cum through my shaft and into his ass. I continued thrusting into him, feeling shot after shot of cum leaving the tip of my dick. And fuck, it was a lot. I noticed there was even some dribbling out of his hole. I've never cum this much before at once, much less in an entire day. My dick was wild for Zach. "NNghhhhhaaahhhhh!" Zach moaned loudly, and from behind him I saw his own cum launching into the air as he shot his huge load all over the room, hitting the walls, furniture, even the ceiling. He had to be over 7 feet tall, much taller than me now. But then I heard a familiar noise. A "DING" sound. I heard Zach chuckle. I looked around, and saw a red light. It was attached to a fucking camera! I looked at Zach, who'd turned around to face me. "Zach, what the fuck..." I started, but he spoke over me. "Mike, dude, that tip was for you." And then I felt my entire body throb, and immense pleasure surged through my limbs. I was growing.
    1 point
  8. OK so, for the first continuous story on this brand new forum, and as I'm cripplingly ill right now, I figured why not use that to my advantage and give myself something to bone up about when I'm busy struggling through this terrible bout of pneumonia right? SO the setup? Just like it sounds, a flu that starts out with basic cold symptoms and goes on in men to produce intense growth spurts, the exact nature and speed of which depends totally on the victim! The astute observer will note this is drawing some inspiration from the fantastic Ingrewenza story on CF, however, I figured this would truly be the best place to start a story like this, because as this is a breathing growing living community we could get different growth stories from across the fucking GLOBE to enjoy all thanks to this terrible pandemic! No growth limits whatsoever, any male character can grow, and grow IMMENSE. You can add new characters whenever you want, you can even divert the story however you'd like, honestly see this as your own means of exploring this alternate universe and enjoying some GROWTH. So without further adieu I'll start us off to get this thing started! I kinda picture this as like a documentary movie, almost by Michael Bay! Northern Ontario Canada 04/20/14 Will sat, his muscles aching and fevered as he tried to lay back on his couch, the phone going off as he sat up with an annoyed sigh. He sat up, wincing as his core muscles flexed and tensed "Yes, yeah, this is Will, no, no I can't come in today, I already called, too sick." "Yeah, I'd heard there was something going around, ok, it's best you stay home then, I'm not sure what we're going to do but I guess I can try and call someone in" his supervisor chided and scolded him like an errant child, always his least favourite part of calling in sick, which is why he did it so infrequently but right now he could barely MOVE nevermind pull an entire 10hour shift. Struggling to make it to the shower, still coughing and tensing, at 6ft tall and 220lbs, moving around felt like it took a monumental effort just to get his feet lifting off the ground for so much as a few seconds. Disrobing he stared at his hairy self in the mirror, flexing for himself but immediately regretting the decision as he started the shower up. His muscles feeling on FIRE with the slightest move, but the drowning rushing rain of hot water helped to sooth that ache. Out of earshot of the TV the news bulletin flashed with a worried female reporter behind her desk and a flushed faced male anchor struggling to maintain his composure. The woman talking quickly, and worriedly "The virus has reached pandemic levels at this point, with new cases being reported in Africa, Australia and the UK, as well as the originating cities of Toronto, and New York. Scientists remain baffled as to why it's so virulent, why it only affects men and why it seems to cause such an immediate response in muscular hypertrophy" She smiled worriedly to her co worker. "Symptoms start off very similar to the standard flu symptoms *COUGH* with high fever, and sweating, as well as *COUGH Uhhnn* coughs and muscle fatigue however UHhnnn" The male anchor paused, gripping the tabletop with his hands, the veins coursing up and down his thickening fingers as his wrist started to swell and snapping the expensive rolex as his sleeves started to slide up his lengthening arm There was chaos in the news room as people started to scramble to get out of the viruses harmful yet, clearly pleasurable reach! "Oh God! Robert!" she cried, not fearing the virus's ill effects as the camera tilted downward, no longer able to view his face as his pecs started to balloon out of his shirt, bulging, swelling and tearing with each panting breath! the fabric splitting as the flimsy metal table top was being bowed UP by repeated impacts, a meaty THACK THACK THUD as his grunts got more and more guttural! "Ohhh GOD soo GOOD! The Ache! it...it's GONE!" he moaned "Ohh GOD Stacey it feels so GOOD" he moaned as table was finally ripped open, a big meaty something that the censors just barely managed to blur in time throbbing up the length of his now bare abs as his sleeves on his expensive suit shredded open! his pecs out of the frame now as he continued to grunt, his deepening voice growing more and more agitated as every muscle seemed to bulge and swell out of control! His hands were still rooted to the table, the hairy thick biceps, now bigger around than his coworkers head was a moment ago covered in such thick pulsing veins that seemed to stretch up and down his entire body as he let out a deep bellowing grunt! That massive censored bar ERUPTING with what looked like gallons of an equally pixelated substance blasting the camera off its track and allowing for a full view of the standing grunting beast! Clearly looking well past 8ft tall this muscle man was immense, every muscle flexing and throbbing with each heavy spurt out of his monumental cock! His pecs pressed up against his chin as his lats spread his arms up giving him a terrifying V shape! The censor bar covering most of his abs, but you could see from the sides, they were thick, swollen and covered in as much hair as his two immense pecs, each one about as big as a car door! His orgasmic shouts echoing those of every single man who had come down with the virus "Oh GOD I'm just so BIG! so FUCKING BIG!" The censors having given up on doing anything else, let that one slide, before cutting the feed entirely. Will walked back in, the feel of clothing on his body almost painful as he sat on his couch the shower not having done anything! just seeing a "Technical Difficulties" Logo up on the screen he let out another sigh and changed channels, feeling that same ache pulsing through his body even more violently than before the temporary relief of his shower!
    1 point
  9. Part 1 Here's the first part of a story I quickly decided to whip up. It's mostly setup for later parts, but hopefully you'll enjoy it. As always, feedback is always appreciated. 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Do you know how much it sucks losing your dream job? I poured my heart and soul into that company!" I say, words slurred by alcohol. My complaints are directed to the bartender behind the counter as I stare at my drink. "Hell, I moved to this city just for this job, I don't know anyone here." I look up at the bartender who is polishing a mug nonchalantly. His bearded face shows a hint of a smile as he raises a single eyebrow. I've been coming to this bar weekly since I moved here in the summer, but more recently I've been coming daily. I just barely notice as I slowly begin swaying from side to side in my chair. "Fine, I guess I know you now, but that's not the point! The point is that after just 3 months they tell me that they need to downsize AND I just so happen to be on the cut list! What am I going to do-" I'm cut off by the sensation of stomach acid coming up my throat. I cover my mouth with a hand and sit still waiting for the feeling to pass. Joe, the bartender, just laughs. "I think you've had too much to drink... again. You've been complaining about this for five days in a row now. As for what you're going to do now, that's simple. Get a new job. Luckily," Joe walks a few steps behind him to the bar wall and points to a Help Wanted sign on the wall, "we just so happen to be hiring." I begin shaking my head in protest, but quickly realize that sudden movements aren't doing me any favors. "I can't work in a bar, I'm a journalist! Besides the fact that I have no experience, it's not really my thing. I can't just-" I'm cut off once again by another wave of nausea. I let out a low groan. The room feels like it's spinning. "Alright, alright, get a move on to the restroom before you make a mess of my bar. And at least give the job some thought before you flat out deny it." Joe said with a frown. He then swipes my half empty cup and pours it out. I nod slightly and jog/trip my way to the restroom. The restroom is empty when I enter. I run over to a sink first to splash cold water on my face. I'd rather avoid vomiting all together if I can. The shock of the cold water grounds me somewhat. I stand with my hands gripping the sides of the sink for what seems like an hour, but is more likely a minute or two, until the restroom door opens. I check the sink mirror in front of me to see who just came in and my knees go weak. Walking behind me to the toilet stalls is one of the most muscular men I've ever seen. Truthfully I don't see many bodybuilder types around here, but this man was still above and beyond the norm. He was wearing a pair of jeans that barely seemed to contain his tree trunk legs, and a tailored white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone revealing his shelf-like pecs. I don't like to admit it but I get a bit grabby when I'm intoxicated, and the more I drink the more I want to grab, and tonight I've had a lot to drink. Once the man entered his stall, my drunk brain began scheming of any way to cop a feel of those massive muscles. I stood there staring at the stall from my vantage point at the sink mirror, and began waiting for my chance to act. As soon as I hear the creaking of the stall door opening, I turn around and wait for the mountain of a man to appear. Once he enters my sights I fake a fall towards his large body. My luck finally seems to be looking up as the man catches me in his arms. I take that moment to get a feel of any muscles I can reach, pretending to try and catch my balance. I get a hold of his back, traps, delts, biceps, and pecs before he finally pushes me off of him, his hands on my shoulders. "Woah, what the hell man, are you ok?" The bodybuilder says in a deep gravelly voice. I am in bliss right now. Not only did I just feel up this massive man, but now he's touching me too? Unfortunately, my happiness is short-lived as my nausea decides this is the perfect time to go into overdrive. I only managed a small, "Oh no," before spewing my dinner and copious amounts of booze onto the shirt of the man in front of me. The man yells a string of curse words as he tosses me to the side. I try to grab onto his hand before I fall to slow my descent, but he manages to slip his hand out of my grip. The sudden prat fall knocks the wind out of me and I am forced to put my head on the ground to catch my breath. I sit up slightly to see how the large man I just puked on was doing and almost gasped as I see that he has taken his shirt off to clean it in the sink. Watching his rippling back muscles move as he scrubs his shirt distracts me for a few moments until I notice a small weight in the hand I tried grabbing the man with. Looking down I see a leather bound journal and a black pencil in my hand. Where did this come from? The cover was blank besides a name, "Greg Carlson". I had no idea who that was, but was too drunk to think about it for too long. I flipped the journal open to random page near the middle and began reading it. "-graduated from Anderson County High School with a full-ride sports scholarship. Soon after entering University, became interested in bodybuilding and-" I looked up from the journal and towards the man standing a few feet away from me. Could this be his journal? I doubted that someone as masculine as him would be carrying around a journal of his life stories everywhere he went. Besides, the way it was written seemed more like a third-person view rather than a personal journal. I looked back at the journal and flipped to the first page. Instead of seeing more life events, I saw what seemed like in depth statistics of a person's body. The stats didn't stop with just weight and height however, they went super specific like individual finger lengths. Who keeps track of that? Another thing I noticed was a category for sexual orientation, which was filled in as straight. I barely had time to register my disappointment before I saw something far more interesting, a penis category. With a length of 4 inches and a girth of 3 inches, I felt kind of bad for the guy. If the muscle beast in front of me really was the owner of this journal and it was accurate, his dick, while not horribly small, would look ridiculously tiny in comparison to his massive body. Feeling naughty and a bit horny, I erased the numbers with the black pencil that I found with the journal and replaced them with 10 inches long and 8 inches in girth. Hopefully if he notices what I wrote he'll have a good laugh about it. I got up quickly and placed the journal and pencil down near the man while apologizing quietly. He glared at me as I rushed out of the restroom. Outside of the restroom, I let out a heavy sigh and walked back to the bar, head hung. "Have a bad time in there or something?" Joe asked, noticing my sullen return. "I... I may or may not have puked all over a dude in the restroom." I said, not making eye contact with Joe. Joe was silent for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. His laugh was infectious, and I couldn't help but join in. It was too ridiculous not too. "Shit, man, I'm not going to clean that up." Joe finally said after we stopped laughing. "Ha, luckily I think it pretty much all ended up on the guy and not the floor." I chuckled again before finally looking up at Joe with a grin. "Also, would this be a bad time to ask for that job?" "That was a quick change of heart, but I guess It's a good of a time as any. I can set you up a quick interview this week with the boss. Don't worry though, I'll be there too. You're basically guaranteed the job." As we continue discussing the job and the work it entailed, I notice the bathroom door opening and the man I had met in it exiting from within. He was wearing his shirt once again but now it was wet and basically see-through and his sculpted body was on display. At the very least there was no sign of the vomit I had covered him in. With a distressed look on his face the man kept adjusting his crotch. It was bulging a surprising amount for 4 inches, but I suppose it's all about how you display it. The man speed-walked his way past me without a second glance and left the bar. Joe didn't seem to notice as he continued his spiel on bartender etiquette. Unbeknownst to me, the journal I had found had completely disappeared without the man taking it. Things would soon start to get a bit hectic around here for me.
    1 point
  10. Hi All, This is a story that was inspired and given permission to play in by one of my fave authors Absman420 Anyway I hope you enjoy it Parts 1 to 5 Have fun TC I work for a guy named Saul Bennett. He’s sort of a modern-day porn maven. Lots of money, loads of girls and guys. No morals. I work for him because I have no choice. (more on this later) I don’t think anyone here does except maybe the guy who does all his hocus pocus for him. He’s one scary bastard. Here’s a story about one of the guys who got in his way. It wasn’t long after Saul had fired Mick Masterson, he had been a real top dollar star for Bennett till like all things Mick’s body had started to go south on him. Nothing major as the guy still had fans and his bod was still great just his age. That was Saul’s excuse anyway. I heard him say it was because he’d fallen in love with some guy, pretty bodybuilder type and Saul didn’t like split loyalties. Anyway, on with the story… James Fraser is or should I was an entertainment lawyer working out of west Hollywood. He was the guy who did contracts for studios big and small tying their actors up in red tape, so the studios got their monies worth. Except James was a rare type. He actually cared about his clients, so he had a specialisation that was more about helping the actors get out of their deals with the big sharks who own these studios. For example, his most recent case was against one Saul Bennett and his studio Priapus Pictures. This guy came to James about a contract he had signed some time back with Priapus and wanted out. His partner had just died and he just didn’t have the heart to carry on in the industry any more. Bennett refused to cancel his contract even though the guy was happy to pay any penalty fee for doing so. So, the client came to James and asked for representation “James, your 2-o clock is here.” Said his assistant Diane as James re-entered his office after his lunch with another client. “Thanks Di. “said the 33-year lawyer smiling as he took his jacket off and threw it over the chair in the outer room. He was a good-looking man standing about 5 ft 9 tall. He had dark hair cut short on the back and side and had twinkling green eyes that always seemed ready to smile. His taut athletic body was a good swimmers build from many hours in the pool at his apartment building and light gym three times a week. He was well liked by the entire company, always willing to help out and fight for any underdog cause that took his mind. He was a good man. He opened the door to his office and went in to greet his client Manuel Cortez. Manny to his friends. Manny stood and shook hands with him. “Hi James or is it Jim?” Said Manny smiling nervously as he stood to greet the lawyer. “Please, please sit and it’s James.” Said the lawyer smiling. “My dad was Jim or Big Jim as everyone called him.” Said James as he made himself comfortable at his desk and reached for the clients file. Manny nodded in acknowledgement and said ” So, any news on my case?” James looked at the last page on the file which contained a vitriolic letter from Bennett’s team about what Manny and James could do with their suit. It was pretty much a good luck and see you in court letter. James explained this to Manny and the he just sat there and hung his head. When he raised it again to look at James he had tears in his eyes. “I can’t do this James, not any more. The things that he gets us to do.” Said the crying man. “It’s not that I think they’re disgusting, it’s not that at all. I’m a gay man and gay sex and experimentation is fine. I’m even fine with gay does straight. It all pays the bills doesn’t it and I like the sex. It’s none of that. It’s the fact we have no choice about what scenes we do. I’m pretty easy going and my partner used to just say go with the flow as we were both earning well out of it. Now he’s gone I just don’t feel it any more. “Manny wiped a tear from his eye as he talked. “When I said he gives us no choice I meant it.” He paused for moment to catch his breath. “When we’re on set something seems to come over the cast. No of us ever seem to argue with the directors on set. Ever. Something’s going on and it’s scaring the shit out of me. I don’t want to be there. Since Rico died It’s like veil was lifted from me. We were a great duo, did loads of pics together and we loved doing them. We never questioned Saul’s methods because times were good and if I’m honest we were pretty high most of the time too. Saul provided all those sweeties too. Said he had his own alchemist as he called his dealer I think. I think there was more than dope and china in that mix because we all just toed the line you know ?” Finally stopping and taking a drink from his water glass. He looked over at James to see how he was reacting from his total honesty about this situation. James sat there for a moment, gathering his thoughts. “Are you saying that Bennett actually forced you all into sexual acts and drug taking ?” he said “No, it’s not like that it’s more that he gave this stuff away for free and we didn’t even think to object to any of it.” Said Manny. “It’s only now that I haven’t been on set in a couple of months that I am finally clear headed. There worst thing was I didn’t touch any of that shit to start with. I was so nervous in the beginning I could only drink water on set.” He finished. “Look, Manny this could be a criminal case too if Bennett can be proven to be a dealer or that he is somehow forcing you all to work against your wills.” He Stood up from his desk and closed the file. “I think I should meet Mr Saul Bennett for myself and see what’s going on at Priapus Pictures.” Manny stood too. “Look man, please be careful. This man is dangerous and has a lot of power in this town. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you for getting involved.” “Don’t worry about me Manny.” Said the lawyer reassuringly. “I’ve dealt with guys like this before. I have my own contacts in this town too.” They shook hands and Manuel left the office. Turning and nodding his thanks before he closed the door. James picked up his mobile and dialled his wife “Hi Hun, really sorry I think I’m going to be late home tonight. Yeah…. A new case…..Don’t worry I’ll send out for something. Okay…bye…Love you too. So James had a plan, of sorts. He needed to rattle this guy, to get him out in the open and to make a mistake somewhere. A mistake that he, James could capture and exploit. He picked up his phone again. He had just the guy he could use for this job. “Hey Max.” He said smiling. “I’ve got a job for you bro are you up for it?” He asked. “Ever heard of a guy called Saul Bennett? His company Priapus Pictures?” “Yeah, that’s him.” He said to his long-time friend Maxwell Calder. Max was a private detective and old friend of James’ from way back in their college days. “I need you to do me a favour. Do you still do undercover shit ? I know you still love that James Bond stuff.” Said James smiling as he remembered his friends first forays into the field as an eager much younger man. “Well, we should meet up and talk. Lunch tomorrow? At Deano’s ? Yeah..Haha…” He laughed at his friends “Where else?” Comment . “Okay buddy. Yup, about 1.30 ?” He hung up. James looked back at the file on his desk. He had a few other calls to make. Insurance was always a great idea in this town. L.A. was not forgiving on the careless or the over eager. He had a long night ahead. He picked up his phone once more and dialled. It took a moment or two to answer. “Mz D.” He said to the feminine voice that answered. “Good to speak to you.” “Why James. “Said the throaty voice at the other end of the line. “It has been a while. It could be said that you have been remiss in your attentions.” She chided gently. “Awww Mz D. You know you truly are the only woman for me.” Said James smiling as he reacquainted himself with the accent and manners of the lady on the line. One who also had very, singular talents. One’s that he, James felt were going to be needed sometime very soon. James sat back in his chair and turned to look out at the skyline onto L.A. and its sunset of promises, promises that all to often turned out to be smoke and mirrors. Well, maybe not this time. With any luck. “I need a favour sweet lady.” Said the lawyer. MAX. Maxwell Calder was a a private detective in Lala land. He looked at his file on Priapus and Bennett and wasn’t surprised by what he read there. He’d been through several of these joints in his years investigating Los Angeles seedier side. He was still young enough at 35 to still be open minded and old enough to not be surprised any more. He’d done his background checks with his various contacts and knew for damn sure that Bennett was dirty and had his fingers in many, many pies. Porn, mainstream and “other.” Every form of fornication and filth was bread and butter to this guy and he’d made a fortune from it. James and by extension Manny James’ client had warned him to be careful as Bennett was well known to be resourceful and unforgiving of betrayal. Max had decided to go in undercover on a low-level crew type security or roady type, etc. You know the drill, the polite escorting of over eager fans from sets etc or the occasional diverting of a loved one/ partner away from the stars dressing rooms when they were “resting” or otherwise engaged. Purgatory were big enough that they recruited regularly, and this industry was full of people trying to “break into the biz.” He managed to get himself on a crew doing general security for a new movie that had the working title of New Fish. This was a prison scene in a mock up studio version of a prison block. It was going to be one of those gang bang movies. Max wasn’t gay himself but the thought of seeing a room full of guys wasn’t totally his thing. However he was professional and had no issues with gay guys at all so it wasn’t a problem. He was due to start at the studio at 7am the next day in a studio lot in some warehouse district somewhere. Knowing what this Bennett was like meant Max wasn’t going to go in wired or carrying a camera. He just had a mobile phone that took good pics and also recorded sound a lot longer than most of the other phones of it’s type. He picked up the phone and called James. “Hey buddy, it’s me.” Said the detective. “Yeah, all sorted. Job starts tomorrow. Aha…Yeah low level security/go-fer sort of thing.” “Ha ha…Very funny. I did it for you in college didn’t I why wouldn’t I run around for others for the job ?” he said smiling at his friends comments on the line. “Listen, if we start this we have to see it through. This guy has power and contacts. You know how much that’s worth in L.A. don’t you?” warned Max. “Yeah, I will. You too James. Don’t expect to hear from me for a few days. Speak soon as I can.” He hung up the phone. He looked at himself in the mirror. In looks he had that almost faded Cali surfer look going on. Slightly longer than normal naturally blond hair and clear blue eyes. Gave the impression of blankness which was handy in his business as many people underestimated him. He could turn on the dumb if he wanted to but in this instance, he decided to be a man of few words. He got his gear packed and decided to hit the shower before his job started tomorrow. James had waited about 4 days before picking up the phone and calling Max’s number. As he had expected he got the answer phone. Max always used burner phones when he worked so his real one would be stashed elsewhere for now “Hey, buddy. Just checking in with you. I know you don’t like to break your cover but give me a call when you can. Just looking for a prog rep.” He put the phone back on the desk and started to work on the papers laid out in front of him. He just had a niggling feeling about this gig with Bennett, that it was going to be a lot bigger than he wanted. He leaned to the intercom. “Di could you bring in todays mail and a bottle of water please?” he asked his assistant. She came through the door moments later with a bundle in a tray and a bottle of cool water. “Here you go chief.” She said smiling. James smiled at her. Laughing and shaking his head. “Let me guess, you’re auditioning for a part later ?” he asked. “How did you guess? “ She smiled sassily as she handed him the mail. The top of which was crowned with a brown padded envelope. He took the bundle and the water. “Haha…I dunno, calling me chief was the clue. Reporter maybe?” he said looking up at her with raised eyebrows. “Wow you should have been the P.I. I’ll be gone for a couple of hours but will come back to finish off later if that’s okay ?” she said as she turned to the door. “No, no don’t worry about coming back. “ He told her. “It’s Friday you may as get your weekend on early.” She smiled as she turned. “Thanks chief.” And gave him a mock salute as she went back into the outer office. James looked down at the pile of mail. Looks like his weekend was not going to start early at all. His eyes were drawn to the envelope. It was hand written, badly by the look of it but it was familiar. It was also unstamped which meant it had been hand delivered too. He opened up the packet and found it contained two things. One was a cell phone and the other was a micro SD card. On the phone was stuck a note. PLAY US BOTH TOGETHER. He paused for a moment and looked out into the main office. Diane had gone so he couldn’t ask who had dropped this off. He looked at the phone and switched it on. It didn’t seem to have any service but could still be opened up. He put the SD card into his laptop and scanned it first, just in case. It came up clear. He clicked on the icon for the card when it came up and it came up with one file that read. PLAY ME. He did so and the screen blanked out for a moment and started up a slide show. PRESS PLAY ON THE PHONES SOUND RECORDER NOW. James did so. The voice that came through was disguised. “Mr Fraser, good afternoon. If my calculations are correct you should be receiving this package at sometime around 2 pm on Friday afternoon.” There was a pause and the sound of someone making noise in the background. They sounded angry and sounded if they might be gagged or being stopped from talking. “I believe we have a friend of yours with us. He was found snooping about and before you stop this and call the police I can assure you that by the time the end of this recording has finished you will be aware that your friend Mr Calder is more than happy to be with us.” “In fact you will be the first to witness our latest movie. It’s a prison gang scene about a guy who’s caught undercover by his fellow inmates. “ The screen lit up on the laptop as the slideshow continued. On the screen was a man tied to a chair with his hands behind his back. His face was covered with a towel or something like it. His clothes were rumpled and the sleeve on his shirt was torn and bloody. Two very large muscular men stood either side. One of them was a very well presented man in a prison guards uniform. His hair was very short on the back and side and brushed back 1950’s style. He was very athletic having the look of sportsman or coach in a uniform. He was good looking in a sexy daddy sort of way. Tached and salt and pepper colouring. The guy on the left-hand side was huge and dressed in an orange prison jumpsuit that hand the sleeves cut off. There was no way they would ever have been able to hold the arms that the man had. He looked like he had be hewn rather than born. Grown out of the stone floor he was standing on. His shaved head gleamed in the light of the room, accented with a heavy black goatee beard and pale grey eyes. His arms were folded around his chest and he seemed to unconsciously be flexing them. He was about 6ft and seemed to be staring like his guard companion blankly out of the picture and at James himself. “Mmmmmf….mmm…mmesss.” Said the panicked voice of the person under the towel. “Yes, yes. “ said the dark voice. “Warn him all you like.” It said nonchalantly. “It won’t make any difference.” It paused for a moment. “ Mr Fraser, please be aware if you attempt to contact the police or even stop this recording before we have shown you our work please know that they will find nothing and you will not be seeing your friend Max again.” With that the next picture came up and it was of the guy in the chair and it confirmed James’ suspicion as Max was revealed. His hair was a mess and he has a wild look in his eyes. He looked genuinely afraid. He had a bloodied nose and what seemed to be a black eye. His mouth was gagged with what looked like a rubber ball gag, a standard BDSM toy on a set for a porn film. Max looked out at the camera from the still photo as his voice was heard in the background. “We’re just getting Mr Calder ready for his close up James.” Said the sinister voice as the next picture was of the two large men ripping Max’s shirt off. “First a little, preparation. Hold him.” The next picture flashed up and was of the prison guard injecting Max with something just into his neck while the prisoner bull held him steady. “Mmmmmmm!....Ngghhh…!” James heard Max’s muffled cries…Ove the next few drawn out minutes they got weaker and weaker until he heard a subdued groaning coming from his friends mouth. “Ahh that’s better. Now to work. Max, Max can you hear me ?” Said the man. “Mfff.” Said Max. The next picture flashed up and was of Max staring into the light of the camera with a hooded expression to his eyes. They seemed a little dull, even in the bright light. James rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. This bastard had his friend prisoner and was torturing him. “Now, James. Don’t do anything rash.” Said the voice again. “Take a sip of water and calm down. I’ll give you some instructions after this is all over and we’ll try and resolve this situation.” “Now.” Said the stranger. “Where were we? Oh yes. Take the gag off. He shouldn’t be much trouble now.” “Max,MAX…Can you hear me ?” “Huh ?...” said the slurred voice of his friend. “Look at me Max. That’s good. You’re a good boy well done.” “Good booooy…” said his friends voice. It sounded deep and slow. Probably a result of the drug the bastards had given him thought James as he listened horrified and dreaded the next picture. The dark man’s voice continued to talk to Max. “Now Max, in a moment we’ll untie you from the chair and you will continue to sit there. Calm and still, calm and still. Do you understand?” “aarrrm and stiiilll…” came the reply as a new pic appeared. This was of Max. He had been untied and was sat in the chair and was looking up into the camera lens. James saw a little drool dribbling from his bottom lip. “That’s good Max, very good. Now these two men are your friends and you want to help your friends don’t you ?” “Aha..friends.” Max’s voice sounded thick and heavy, almost childish. “Stand up Max and let them help you undress. You’ll be far more comfortable like that trust me.” Max had obviously obeyed as the next picture came up. This time he was just standing there in the room, which did seem like a prison cell. He was stood there naked. The blank expression on his face, the drool and what seemed to be a raging hard on. “Well now, someone’s happy to see his two friends isn’t he?” said the monster on the phone. “They’re happy to see you too. Can you see how happy they are Max ?” he said. James could feel the smirk in the bastards voice. He was enjoying this. James’ mouth was dry. He took another sip of water from the bottle. He didn’t want to continue but had no choice but to listen and watch as his friend was manipulated. “Max, in a moment you will start to feel a little warm and tingly. It’ll feel a bit like when you go to the gym and have a good workout.” “Mmmhhmm.” Said his friend. “You understand ? Good.” Said the man. “You’re going to start to change and I want you to feel and see that it is all normal. This is a good change. You have nothing to fear.” Said the man “Do you understand Max.” he questioned. “No fear.” Said Max’s slow voice. It seemed more sure now but was also somehow deeper than James remembered. “Now I want you to kneel down and show your friends Adam and Rico your appreciation.” Said the man. “You know what to do.” He instructed. “I know…” The next picture flashed up and was off James’ friend of many years. His college buddy was knelt there naked on the floor of this prison cell and had the cocks of the two big muscle men in his mouth. His eyes were wide and staring up at the two men. Slobber and drool from his efforts and the men’s actions were dribbling off his chin. The screen blanked out and there were the sounds of someone giving and being given a blow job. This seemed to go on for a long time and the sounds of passion were punctuated with grunts, the sounds of animal passion. James tried to get the picture out of his head, he didn’t know what to do but couldn’t take his eyes off the screen and couldn’t get the will to switch of the recording either. The sounds of the men’s passions exploding brought James out of his reverie. “Ah…fuck…fuck…fuuuuuck…yeah…Give it to me.” Said Max’s voice. The two mens voices were just grunts. The sound of them cumming, hard was unmistakable. The screen lit up again with Max’s face taking up most of the screen. His sweaty hair was plastered onto his face and his blank eyes stared at the camera in gratitude. On his face was what look like a gallon of cum. It looked like the poor man had been glazed. The screen went dark again. SWITCH OF THE LAPTOP. CONTINIUE TO LISTEN. Instructed the screen. “Do I truly have your attention James ?” Said the creepy man’s smug voice. “Good. If you want to see your friend again and resolve this situation without further, action. Here are your instructions.” James sat in horror and listened to the words. PART 3 “James?” said a faraway voice. “James, are you okay?” It asked. Louder this time. “JAMES!” shouted Diane his assistant. Bringing the lawyer out of his reverie. What had he been….? “Shit” he shouted loudly making Diane’s concerned even more apparent as she touched his shoulder. “Are you okay boss?” She said worriedly, She’d come back to the office after her audition to grab some bits when she saw her boss just staring at the screen on his laptop. Which was weird in itself as the machine had gone into screen saver mode. James seem to be dazed. He ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. Trying to bring himself out of his daze. “Sorry Di. Dunno what happened to me there.” He apologised to his worried assistant. “Must have dozed off or something.” He said, not sounding entirely convinced by his own excuse. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She said, making sure. “Yeah, yeah. “ He assured her taking a swig from the now warm water bottle on his desk. “I’m fine. Must be tired or maybe coming down with something.” He stood and straightened his tie. Looking at her with his beautiful green eyes. “Look, you head off home. I’m gonna head that way myself. “he said.” Don’t worry about me I’ll be fine.” He grabbed his jacket and popped his laptop into his bag then opened the office door and wave her out. Diane grabbed her coat and bag from her desk. “As long as you’re sure you’re okay. She said heading out the door. “See you Monday.” He said smiling at her concern re-assuring her he was okay. “Monday.” She said and was gone. James lent against the office door for a moment. His head was clearing. He remembered everything that had happened but had been unable to say a word of it to his friend and assistant. What had Bennett done to him ? How much power did the guy have that he could just get him with some pictures and a recorded voice ? The voice on the line had given him some instructions which he felt compelled to obey but they were vague, almost dreamlike in the exact memory of them. He knew he’d remember only when Bennetts voice wanted him to. He knew his first port of call was the gym where he went every day and often worked out with his old friend Max. Max… “Shit Max!” said James and ran out of the door. 25 minutes later he pulled his car up to the lot behind his gym. This wasn’t an exclusive club or true iron gym it was a mid range place you could find in many towns and cities. It was busy enough not to be isolating to the customer and quiet enough that you could usually get on the machines you wanted to. It was about 4.30 and was beginning to fill with the pre-weekend crowd. The gym was called X-WORKS. He tapped his card as he went in and went into the changing rooms and got changed into his gear. Loose light blue vest and dark blue gym shorts just to above the knee and pale green trainers and sports socks. He wasn’t worried about the whole gym fashion thing. He was looking over the gym floor and trying to decide where to start He went to the stretch mats carrying only his gym towel and a bottle of water. He started to warm up on the mat, slowly stretching his long swimmers muscles. He did a good fifteen minutes warm up and then got up ready to go and went to the cycles for some warm up cardio. As he did his eyes scanned the crowd of Friday nighters that were in the gym. After work dads and moms having their one free hour before the weekend with the kids. Older people walking quickly on the treadmills showing they still got. High schoolers trying to show how much they could lift. A whole mix of people including the pre-club workout crowd trying to get a pump before showing off their glistening bodies to anyone who wanted to gape at them. His eye was caught by one guy. Tall, blond type with blue eyes. This guy could have been a surfer if not for the muscle he carried. This guy was stacked. Must’ve weighed 265 if not at least 270 pounds. This was hard earned muscle, this guy was shredded to perfection, striations and veins cut across all of his major muscle groups his chest, shoulders and arms were covered in thick rope-like veins. His forearms were so thick that James realised he’d been staring at the guy. He looked away before the big man noticed. He went back to cycling and tried to concentrate on the tv screen ahead of him and started pedalling faster and faster. He was in the zone about 10 mins later when he heard a voice close to him over the gym’s loud music. “Hey buddy.” The voice said. “Any chance of helping me with a spot?” The deep voice asked James turned his and slowed his pedalling and there, next to him was the big guy he’d spotted earlier. Closer up he was a magnificent specimen of manehood. James wasn’t gay but given his industry he was open and could still appreciate a male form. This guy was hotness personified. “Can I get a spot?” said the guy in a slow measured tone that seemed to be coming from somewhere deep below the ground. It was that type of voice that when heard managed to get most gay guys and straight woment right in the private parts. You know what I mean ? James stopped pedalling and took the guy in with his eyes. “Yeah, sure thing.” He said. The big guy slapped him on the shoulder and James swore it went all the way through him the the floor. “Thanks buddy, the name’s Mack.” Said the behemoth. “Well Mack.” Said James dismounting from the cycle. “It’s good to meet you. “ He said extended his hand to shake, The big guy stood there a moment and looked at James’ hand as if confused and unsure what to do with it. Then it was as if he was receiving instructions from someone else he laughed. “Aha aha aha!” It was loud and forceful and lacking in any real intelligence. A true Jocks laugh. James groaned inwardly but he’d already agreed so followed the big man to a weight bench lined with free weights. “You can jump in too if you like.” Said Mack “You’ve already done your warmups from what I could see.” “Yeah, sure thing . “ said James. What’re we doing?” he asked the big bodybuilder. “Chest.” Said the huge man. Getting his barbell ready with a warmup weight. As he settled on the bench and set it flat he lay down and looked up at James. “You okay with this weight to start?” “Yup. It’s fine by me.” Said the lawyer. It was a warm-up so he wasn’t worried. The big guy pounded and James pounded out the warmup sets. Slightly increasing the weight each time. James or Mack counting out the others reps and helping at the end as required. Which wasn’t often. James was surprised how much he was enjoying this. He hadn’t worked out with anyone for a while expect with his pal Max…Max…He paused a moment.. Something started to niggle him. “Hey Jimmy you in there?” He felt a light tap on his head as the big guy got up from his last set and pretended to knock on his skull. James came back to himself.”Oh…hi..sorry was miles away.” He said. Where was he again? Oh yeah the gym. “Aha aha aha.” That laugh again. James thought to himself. It was quite appealing rather than annoying. Quite sexy really. He sneaked a glance at the big guy as he turned to alter the weights again. His back was massive. He wore an old school, faded gold, World gym top that had seen a lot of use and what seemed at first glance to be compression shorts. On closer inspection they turned out to be jersey shorts stretched so tight James could see the veins on the man’s thighs and his ass was spectacular. “Good view from back there buddy? “ said Mack. “Oh err..”James would normally be flustered and rather than deny he had just been scoping out the mans ass he said. “Hell yeah.” He blushed and felt awkward in the same way a teenager on their first date feels at kissing time. What was wrong with him? He could feel the small voice in his head saying that this wasn’t him but he also wasn’t really listening. “You’re up Jimmy A bit more weight this time.” Said the beast James meant to tell the guy it was James and not Jimmy but didn’t want to spoil the moment by criticising the guy. He lay on the bench. Mack moved close the head of the bench where James’ head was and lifted the barbell and lowered it to James’ waiting hands. “Don’t forget to breathe Jimmy.” Said Mack smiling as he looked down and stepped closer to the bench and James head. James could just see the guys crotch at the top of his vision and his mouth went dry.” “1-2-3..” counted the big man towering above him. James was enthralled by the play of his own muscles even as he watched the big guy stretch and lift above him. Time seemed to blur. James wasn’t sure whether it had been a minute or an eternity when the set had finished. He felt dizzy for a moment and sat up slowly. “Take it easy buddy.” Said the slow deep voice of his training partner. “Here, take this. You gotta be thirsty.” Said Mack handing him a bottle of unopened water. James looked down to his and realised it was empty. When did he finish…? His chest felt like it was on fire as did his shoulders and arms. He’d only been working chest with this guy hadn’t he ? “Well we’re done for the day.” Said Mack. “Huh…?” said Ji-j-James dully. He was stilled dazed from the workout obviously. “We’ve only just started..” James said. “Dude, we’ve been at it for nearly 3 hours. You said you weren’t into heavy weights as a swimmer or sumthin’ I knew you were a kidder.” Said the behemoth who was now pumped to the Max… Max…Macks.. MAX! For a moment Jimmy looked at the big monster of a man in front of him and thought he knew him from somewhere else. “Max?” He question dully as they walked to the changing room. The big guy turned around and smiled at him. Big, toothy vacuous grin. “I was.” Said Mack. The room was empty apart from the two of them. Mack was ripped and now pumped. He looked like a god stood there in the white light of the changing room. “Until you sent me to meet Saul Bennett.” Said the big, muscular beast of a man. He took off the vest. As he did so all the muscle in his arms and shoulders bunched and flexed and he struggled for a moment to take the shirt off over his huge wing like lats. He laughed at that. That laugh again. For some reason the laugh made James/ Jimmy hard. He felt it in his groin the moment he heard that sound. He could feel his cock begin to stiffen in his shorts…? He looked down and realised he was wearing different clothes from when he’d entered the gym. His gym shorts were now tight under armour compression shorts and his t-shirt had gone replaced by a cut off tank. He couldn’t make out the logo or words on the bright red cutoff for some reason. On his feet were a pair of Nike hi-tops. Bright red to match the shirt. He didn’t notice this difference as he was to enthralled by the man in front of him who had just fished out the biggest cock Ja---Jimmy had ever seen. As he knelt in front of the big man with his mouth salivating he noticed a mirror to the side that showed the both of them. The big muscular man towering above him, Vast shoulder and lats, shoulders more like a range of mountains that held the must unfeasible set of arms Jimmy had ever seen. Massive ledgelike pecks and a thick waist with a slight roid belly look that supported all above. The legs, thigh and calves looked like they’d been hewn rather than grown. Topped off that all over the beautiful tanned body were veins that seemed to show every contour and contrast. Then there was the cock. Mack’s cock was a beast to behold. Thick, almost two hander to hold, about 11 inches long. Mack had pulled back the foreskin and the thick, bloated, purple head of the monster was already leaking with precious juices. Jimmy caught sight of himself. Kneeling there in front of his god, salivating. In his gym gear and wearing a red baseball cap backwards on his head. His blank blue eyes staring at the mirror. Drool starting to drip from the corner of his mouth. His muscles were ridiculous. These were not the beautiful muscle of a cut body builder. Jimmy had the muscle of a laborious beast. He was more massive than the man above him. Crouched as he was he looked more Neanderthal than man. His dark eyes looked dim and his hair was shaggy where it peaked under the cap. His brow was thicker somehow and his eyebrow seemed to almost meet in the middle. His neck was so thick that it and his monstrous traps almost seemed to devour his skull. They were so high at the back. His shoulders and arms were almost grotesque in their massiveness. Veins didn’t just cross his arms they ravaged them. His chest was beyond human and dusted with dark hair. They were almost pendulous in the way they hung there. The big brown nipples pointing to the ground because the pecks were so huge. He couldn’t really see what his legs were like because he was kneeling but could feel the size and thickness of them. It was like they were made from steel. He turned back to the man in front of him and had only one thought in his mind. “JAMES!” said the voice. “JAMES ARE YOU OKAY.” It said again. “FOR FUCKS SAKE JAMES. WAKE UP!” it said again. Jimmy no James looked up. “Diane?” He said confused…. Part 4 James shook his head as his vison cleared. “Phheww!” he sighed and shook his head again. “Are you okay,” said Diane as she leaned over him, still sat in his desk chair. He was at the office. But he’d just been at the gym hadn’t he? His thoughts were so muddled it was taking him a while just to get his mouth working again.” “I’m fine Di.” He said. Reassuring her in a way that he himself didn’t feel. The attractive brunette got a bottle of water from the fridge in the outer office and ran a cloth under the tap in the kitchenette. “Here.” She said in a matronly fashion as she handed him the water and put the cool, damp cloth on his neck where it sat on his hot skin soothingly. “I…I must’ve nodded off.” He said look up at her blearily. His head felt thick, muddy and unclear. He just couldn’t focus properly. “Do you want me to call the doctor?” She asked worried about her friend and boss. “No, no…I’ll be alright. I must be coming down with something.” He said. He did feel sore come to think of it. All over. It was a deep ache, almost gnawing ache. Like hunger but different, darker. He couldn’t think of the words to describe it. “You sure?” she said. “I can cancel my plans and take you home, it’s no biggie. Or I can call your wife to come get you?” “No, it’s fine Di. I’m fine. Feeling much better now.” He said and it was true. AS his senses returned to him he was feeling better, energised in fact. He stood up and removed the towel from his neck handing it back to her. “Thanks.” He said as he started to gather his stuff and pack his bag. Again. Or at least that’s what it felt like, déjà vu. “You go and get on with your weekend.” He said as he all but shooed the woman out of the door smiling at her. “I’ll be fine.” He told her again. “As long as you’re sure. “ She said. She stopped at the door and turned around and put a light hand on his cheek. “You work too hard boss, please take it easy this weekend.” Then she was off out the door and shouted as she went down the corridor. “Call me if you need anything.” And the she was gone. James sat back in the chair heavily for a moment. He could still remember the gym. He could remember everything that happened in vivid detail. He remember Mack and his beautiful face and godlike body looming over him. He could remember how his gym gear pressed up against the thick, thight muscle of his hard steellike body. Veins running over the muscle just under the skin. Thick, rope like and full of pulsing life. Just like Mack’s cock. Oh god the cock. James leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. His breathing started to catch as he remembered the beast between Mack’s legs. Thick and shining. Two hands to hold and dripping with pre-cum. The smell was beyond anything. It was like smelling joy to him. James wanted to run his tongue up and down the monster, he had to. He had to find Mack again. He opened his eyes and realised he was still in the office and he’d just closed his eyes for a second. That was enough for him to re-live that memory and then ejaculate. He’d cum in his trouser. Like a teenager,he thought, now horrified. What the hell was wrong with him ? He’d just had a fantasy about one of his work collegues. No, wait Mack wasn’t a colleguege. Max was. Where was Max ? God he was so confused. He needed to go home and rest. He gathered his gear together, realising his gym bag was still there. He grabbed his laptop and stuffed it on top of the used and sweaty top and shorts. He hadn’t actually been to the gym. Had he? Not trusting himself to drive he went down the stairs after closing the office and hailed a cab. He got in and gave the driver his address and heard a beep from his Wife. Apparently her sister had gone into labour early so she was heading off to the airport so she could be with her family and support her sister. He called her and wish her luck and told her to send his love to his sister in law. He also told he was feeling under the weather so it was just as well that she went as he would be no fun. She gave him her love and told him where he could get some good chicken soup near their home. He smiled and told her he loved her.He put the phone back in his pocket and lay back on the seat of the cab. He closed his eyes for a second just to still his senses. In his mind’s eye all he could see were the massive tree trunk legs of Mack and that monster cock with it’s pendulous balls. “Hey Buddy!” said the driver’s voice. “Whha..” said James opening his eyes and looked around realising he was home. “Oh, right. Sorry.” He apologised as he got out of the cab, he still felt sore and disorientated as he gave the driver the fare telling him to keep the change. He wasn’t sure but he thought he heard the guy say “dumbass” as the cab pulled away at speed. He walked up to the house. There was a light burning in the front room and he heard music playing. His wife had probably left them on so he didn’t feel so lonely coming home to an empty house. They did things like that. He smiled at the kind thought. He opened the door and dumped his bag on the floor just by the coat rack. There was a light classical music playing and room was lit by warm, mellow lights from the various lamps around it. The person standing in the room wasn’t his wife. It was Saul Bennett. He was holding a glass half full of what appeared to be James’ own 25 year scotch. As he walked into the room Bennett raised the glass in a salute and took a sip. “What the hell?” Said James. “Not bad.” Said Bennett savouring the flavour of the alcohol and totally ignoring James indignation. “What are you doing in my house Bennett.” Shouted James. “Get out now before I call the police.” He said angrily. “Now, now James. Don’t lose your pretty head.” Said the monster with a smile. “I just wanted to take a few moments of your time to have a little chat, then I’ll be gone.” James crossed his arms and walked over to the bottle of his whisky and poured himself a good measure. He took a swig. “Then, talk.” He said glaring at the man who had invaded his home. Bennett took another swig of his drink and smiled in much the same way as a crocodile would smile at a fox who’d just ask for a lift across the swamp on it’s back. “Okay then.Talk.” He demanded turning to keep the stare of this man with a confidence he really didn’t feel. “Okay, then.” Said Bennett. “We have a problem.” He said. That smile again. “You are looking into things that really don’t concern you and I’d like you to stop.” Said the businessman. “If you do then I will pay you a fee, call it compensation for having to quit Manny’s case.” Offered Bennett. “No deal.” Said James immediately. “Don’t be so hasty James.” Said Bennett sipping his drink again. “There will be a price to pay if you chose not to take this offer.” He said looking over at the lawyer with something akin to pity. James next instinct was to curl his hands into fist with the intention of punching the sanctimonious pricks teeth down his throat. Fisted clenched at his sides in anger he took two steps forward towards the asshole. “STOP!” The words rang out, not just in his ears but inside his head. It was like a chorus of voices said it at once to him and he could only obey. There was no question of any other type of behaviour. So, he stood there. In silence while this man / monster just looked at him, looked at him as if weighing up what to do with a naughty puppy who has mess the kitchen up while his master’s been at work. “One word James, that’s all that was needed there.” Said Bennett. “That’s just pre-conditioning. You’re in a highly suggestible state right now.” “You have been for some time.” He said. Pretty much since before lunch time when you ask Diane for a bottle of water. James’ eyes widened as he thought back. Then’ he looked to the whisky bottle in alarm. “Yes, that too.” Bennett confirmed. “I have a certain flair with the dramatic don’t you think?” he asked his audience of one. “I’ve actually had my eyes on you for a while.” He sneered at James “You’ve been of little hindrance until recently, until Manny. “He said. “I really don’t like people snooping into my affairs. There tends to be consequences for that.” “Oh, you may speak, don’t strain a blood vessel.” Bennett gave his permission to James. “You fucking freak, how are you doing this ?What have you done with my wife and Diane ?” he shouted. “Do not, above all things, raise your voice to me James.” Said Bennett, dangerously quietly. “I cannot abide rudeness”. He said. “The ladies are fine and will remain that way. If you hear me out. I have some business to discuss with you first.” “Talk, then.” Demanded James still trying to move. “What did I say about rudeness Jim?” asked Bennett “kneel!” demanded the dark, smooth velvet of Bennetts voice. James Obeyed. Without a fight. He had no choice. He had to. Worse, he wanted to. It was a primordial urge, one that he could not even think of fighting. He knelt in front of his captor, head bowed in supplication almost. “What do you want from me?” He said, so quietly it was just a whisper. “That’s easy Jim, Jimmy even.” Said the face that loomed above him. “I want you.” Bennett confirmed what James / Jimmy already knew “As I said we do have business to discuss.” Bennett pressed some button on his phone. “Yes, you may come in now.” James heard the front door opening and senses a large presence behind him. “I believe you’ve met Mack ?” said Saul Bennett. The figure that came in the door and into the light of the living room was huge. It was Jimmy’s friend Max, although not the Max he remembered, apart from in his Laptop fantasy (That cock). This was Max 5.0 This was Mack the monster. Every bit as shredded and packed with muscle as he pictured him from his fevered dream back in the office. “Max ?” he said, not quite believing what he was seeing. The behemoth was dressed in gym gear. A raggedy Golds gym top in faded blue. Straps stretched so thin over the monstrous traps, shoulders and pecks that it just seemed unfeasible a person would be able to move if at all with all that bulk. The pecks themselves were so large that the thick nipples pointed down to the floor because of the sheer mass of the slabs of beef they were attached too. All of this bulk seemed to cinch itself inwards with the shape of the monstrous lats at the back and the ridiculous arms, that Jimmy was sure wouldn’t serve any practical purpose other than to lift weight. Biceps, thick hanging triceps and forearms that were from the fevered dreams of the most dedicated muscle fetishists. All of this growth and mass was on top of a pair of legs, that were themselves encased in white full leg compression leggings. The legs so powerful and filled with strength Jimmy could see the veins almost pulsing under the tight white fabric. The monsters’ huge feet encased in a pair of white Hi-top adidas trainers. Right at Jimmy’s eye levels was a bulge that was doing very little to hide itself. “Jimmy” said a voice that Jim heard as if it was drawn from the bottom of a well. Although he was sure he felt it start in his balls. It was that deep and that hot. Jimmy looked up in to the face of the beast and it was Max, not the nice gentle man he had known for years. This was a creature of stone, hewn, rather than grown. His brow was markedly thicker. His beautiful blue eyes were still intense and held an almost blank animal cunning a lust even. The thick black hair on his head was tousled and rough and longer than he remembered. Mack put a rough calloused hand on Jimmy’s shoulder briefly and he nearly shot his load where he knelt. “What the fuck?” He breathed. Realising that it wasn’t a question it was more a statement of awe. “Well” said the ringmaster, still holding the remains of his whisky glass. “To business.” He sat on the arm of the chair and leaned forward to Jimmy in a friendly manner. “You have a choice here Jimmy.” He offered. “You can walk out of here now, tomorrow you will pack up your business and within a month you and your lovely wife will have a new set up in a part of the country you choose. You will forget about any of this and all will be well.” Jimmy couldn’t keep his eyes off the man beast in front of him. He was that close he could feel the heat radiating from him. “Or?” Jimmy asked weakly. “Or….” Said Bennett drawing out the word. “Or, you will end up working for me as part of my stable. A new and exciting partner for Mack here. Our latest attractions if you will while I’m waiting for another to arrive from another part of the country.” “Fuck you.” Spat Jimmy (no James) suddenly finding the strength from somewhere to resist the devil in a suit before him. He tried to stand and almost did before a ton of stone seemed to crash onto his shoulders in the form of Mack’s monstrous hands. James turned to Bennett and spat at him, caught him clean in the left eye. The air seemed to crackle and turn heavy for a moment as if lightening was about to strike. Then it cleared as Saul Bennett started laughing as he grabbed a pocket square and wiped he face. He shook his head as he looked down on his prey. “Well, I must say I didn’t see that one coming. I certainly didn’t think you’d have had the strength to even turn your head.” He smiled and dropped the square on the coffee table. “So you’ve made your choice then ? No Job? Can’t see us working well together ?” He taunted “Oh well, I did try. I gave you a choice, an out if you will.” Said Bennett. “Mack, he’s all yours.” Said Bennett as he got up and brushed himself down. He headed to the door. “James it’s been interesting. Jimmy, I will be seeing you very soon.” Then he was gone. James felt the strong hands of Mack again. His attention was again drawn to the huge bulge in front of him. Mack put his hands into the front of the leggings and brought out the monstrous cock that was oh so vivid in Jimmy’s mind (JAMES not Jimmy please…) James could smell the odour of sweat and pheromones. Male sweat was emanation from the beast in Mack’s hands. He caught the smell of cock and he knew that he had started to drool. He couldn’t help himself. He dove on the cock, now released from the hold that Bennett had placed on him. He was now entranced by another master. He gave himself to it completely, he couldn’t help it. He took the beast in his mouth as if born to it. Mack put both his thick muscular hands on either side of Jimmy’s head (Definitely Jimmy now) and wouldn’t let him pull away. He could feel the thick piece of meat grow in his mouth but he didn’t care. He didn’t care if it choked him he felt he would die happy. Jimmy worked his mouth up and down the huge member, slathered it in his own spit and worked it with both of his hands. Mack started to fuck his face, groaning slightly, in and out. In and out. Slowly at first. Jimmy was moaning in lust. He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t get enough of it. In and out. In and out. The huge man started to build up speed and his breath started to come in more urgent, ragged breaths. For about 15 minutes they were like this. Jimmy working the monstrous tool while the big bodybuilder alternated between slow and deep and out and out face fucking. Deep throating almost every stroke. Jimmy took it all and loved it. What Jimmy didn’t notice was that during this process he appeared to be wearing the gym gear that had been in his bag earlier. It still smelled of the gym. His body had started to slowly grow and change too. Mack reached behind himself as he was getting towards his final strokes and took a bright red snapback out of nowhere and placed if on Jimmy’s head. Jimmy had started to wank his own splendid cock now, but was really still riveted on the one that was still invading his face. All thoughts of his wife, Diane, Max and even Saul Bennett were about to be washed away. Mack drew himself up to his full height as he knew he was close. His think veined muscle seemed to jostle on his massive frame as he started to tremble. He clenched all of his power into a huge pose. Most muscular for the gods and with a roar he shot his wad into the mouth of the waiting cock slut beneath him. It felt like hours as he continued to pump the man’s mouth until he’d been sucked dry by the dumbass jock on his knees in front of him. Jimmy looked up at his lover with nothing less than vacuous wonder. He drew his hand across his mouth and wiped away some of the drool. He felt clear if not empty headed. His own thoughts now were limited to the needs of the beast in front of him and his master Saul Bennett. Part V The lady sat under a large sun umbrella and sipped at a cup of tea that had been served in a delicate powder blue china cup and saucer. It had the delicate bergamot perfume of Earl Grey and was served, quite properly with a slice of lemon. She was dressed in pale blue herself. Knitted pale blue suit and hat to match. She had a small set of pinz nez on a silver chain around her neck and would occasionally lift them to her eyes and gaze at the world or the people around her. Not that she needed them when she looked at you it pretty much felt like she already knew everything about you and what you were going to say. Her amethyst eyes were laser-like in their luminosity. She sat very properly, as ladies should, with her knees close together and her feet crossed at the ankles. I asked her about the incident with James Fraser and Maxwell Calder. She took a slow, delicate sip of her tea and looked into me for a moment. Then she dabbed her lips gently with her napkin and set it and her cup on the table beside her. When she spoke it was the voice of everyone’s Grandma. Gentle, warm and easy. It had a southern drawl to it that said this lady was a Georgia woman somewhere down the line. “Well, my dear you found me to talk to me about it. I wass wondering when we would get to it.” She said. “How did you first get involved? I didn’t think this would be something you would have got involved in.” I asked. “Okay, this was unusual.” She said. “ I have a lot of friends and contacts around the world. Especially in my field I am a very valued expert. I have a magic touch if you will.” “Usually I rely on wish fulfilment or revenge events but every now and then someone will call me and ask for specific help. If it, or they are worthy I help. On this occasion they really needed my help. “ She took another sip of her tea. “A week or so ago I had a call from a friend of mine called James, he works in L.A. (A cesspool of scum and iniquity but in the end money is money to some.) He had come across a situation that wasn’t really in his purview and asked for my help. “We’d worked together previously, and I’d taught him the basics in how to recognise manipulation, alchemy and magic. “She said and look at me intensely. “Anyway, the call went like this… Oh and yes dear I did say magic… “It does exist as you will find out if you bother to read all of the story rather than trying to skip through to the horny bits that you always do (Yes dear. You. )” she seemed to say to no-one in particular.” “I taped the call.” she said as she drew out a small recording device and placed it on the table. She looked at it testily when it wouldn’t start and then just glared at it for a second. I swear I think the thing started out of embarrassment… Anyway. The call went like this : Ms D “Hello James.” James: “Ms D.Good to speak to you.” Ms D “Why James it has been a while. It could be said that you have been remiss in your attentions.” James “Aww Ms D. You know you truly are the only woman for me.” Said James Ms D “What can this old southern gal do for a big city lawyer like yourself?” James “I think I have one of those problems that only you can deal with.” Ms D “Intriguing, it has been a while since we crossed paths and I know that I taught you well enough to recognise meddling when it’s around.” James “That’s why I called. I think there’s someone who is definitely at it here in L.A.” He pauses for a moment on the phone. James “It’s a bit out of my league and to be honest I’m a little worried about it. It might be good to have a little back-up.” Ms D “I sense that there’s something more about this one James. What’s the issue my dear?” James “This guy changes people. Actually transforms them. I know it’s possible to hypnotise and entrance people but this ? It’s high level and way out of my experience. I’m worried. Max Calder is going in tomorrow and I want to make sure he’s protected. Look I know you’re busy but if you can help in any way…” Ms D “I’ll help dear boy, of course I will. What’s the name of the reprobate we’re dealing with so I can have a little look see?” James “His name is Saul Bennett.” Ms D “Saul B.E.N.N.E.T.T ?” James “Yup that’s him. He’s a big time porn producer with a rep for really owning his guys and girls if you know what I mean?” Ms D “I do indded, go on.” James “Well I have heard stories over the last 6 months or so about guys either disappearing or changing enough that their own families and friends hardly recognise them. It’s scary. I’ve met one of the guys whose partner has changed. It’s scary.” Ms D Pauses a moment Ms D “I can only imagine what the poor souls are going through. James, does this man have two different coloured eyes ?” James “Why yes, he does. How’d you know?” Ms D “Years of experience and a quick search of my database while we were chatting. I may be an old maid dear but I’m far from decrepit yet.” James (Laughing) “No-one who’s ever met you would call you that dear, lady.” Ms D “I’ve got a couple of good likenesses here now, give me a few hours and then call me back. Also contact Max and tell him to call me before he goes in to. Tell him not to make any contact there unless he’s spoken to me first.” James “I will, thanks for this. I really do appreciate it. I’ll have to pay you back one day.” Ms D (Gentle laughter) “You can do so by visiting a little more than you have and maybe taking an old lady out to dinner.” James “You’ll outlive me I’m certain of that. Dinner’s a date. Speak to you soon.” Ms D “You shall indeed. Be safe James. This person is dangerous I can sense it. This isn’t a stage magician you’re dealing with. Bye for now.” The Line goes dead The Lady picks up her device and pops it back into her bag and closes it with a snap. She takes a final sip of her tea and looks at me over the rim of the cup. She finishes it and pops it back on it’s saucer and on the table. “Well?” she asks “Did that answer all of your questions?” I pause for a minute to gather my thoughts and then soldier on under this woman’s intense stare. “To be honest for each one it answer I think I have about 20 more.” I admit honestly. I cannot be anything but honest in this lady’s presence. It would feel wrong. I look at her as she sits primly and properly in her wicker chair and cannot understand for the life of me where she seems to get this aura of calm, authority from. It’s as if someone took every grandmotherly emotion and condensed it into some sort of protective cloak about her. I know that I would do anything for her. It’s that sort of feeling. “Why, what a lovely compliment young man.” She says brightly and fans herself with her hand. “I find myself quite, quite flattered.” She smiles. “I-I, err.. “ I stammer slightly. “How did I know? “ she asked smiling still. “Come on dear boy.” She chided gently “You heard the recording and you’ve seen the two boys.” She said. “It’s true?” I asked already knowing the answer I had already, in truth known all along. “All of it, every word.” She affirmed. “Wow.” I said. “The big question here Michael my dear.” She said pausing and leaning forward out of her chair and lightly gripping my chin so she raises my eyes to her blue lasers. “Is what are we going to do about Saul Bennett?”
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  11. best story i read in a long long time bruno is incredibly sexy
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  12. Not long after reading the part of the story (above) that got my blood pressure racing, I saw this video of Regan Grimes posing the day before he won in Classic Physique at the New York Pro a few days ago. He sounds just like Tommy would, especially at 0:42. I wish the video was longer. Enjoy.
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  13. There were so many factors as to what made oiling up Tommy Foster’s glutes even more erotically charged than when my hands were running over his thick, shredded quads. The actual sensation of feeling Tommy’s ass striations under my fingers, the fact that the act of having my hands on the glutes of, not just a bodybuilder, but any man, felt a lot more intimate, the fact that my fingers kept making contact with what little of his shiny posing trunks were left covering up his unfathomably thick buttocks, and the fact that I was experiencing the whole thing knelt down next to a guy I was not only attracted to, but also felt an incredible chemistry with. A guy who was, no doubt, just as turned on by running his hands over a pair of gorgeously conditioned glutes as I was. Tommy’s obscenely sexy and dirty sounding, “Yeah, baby!” was also hanging in the air. As my tingling and extremely sensitive hard on pulsated and throbbed in my jeans, I couldn’t help but, once again, wonder exactly what Tommy Foster’s motives were for inviting two guys who he’d confessed to suspecting were gay and turned on by muscle to rub oil into his freaky, shredded ass. With every single inch, line and striation of Tommy’s phenomenal and glistening glutes fully oiled, I took Stuart Fox’s lead in standing up in preparation to give Mr Foster’s back the same treatment. With my face not far away from the rear of his head, my torso from his broad, perfectly bronzed back, and the throbbing bulge in the crotch of my jeans from the indecently thick ass I’d just been running my fingers over, I suddenly felt a new kind of intimacy with the amazing middleweight muscle freak before me. After Stuart gave his lower back a few sprays, without a huge amount of pre-thought, I, perhaps rather adventurously, opted for the upper part of Tommy’s back, which seemed to slightly surprise him, as he briefly turned his head to the side of his body I was oiling up in response. Not to be outdone, Tommy Foster had his own surprise in store for me. As I rubbed the oil over the right side of his impossibly broad upper back, Tommy suddenly and quickly manoeuvred into a back lat spread pose, and before I knew what was happening, he was letting out an outrageously cocky, “Oooooh,” his back was opening up, and his impressively thick right lat was exploding and bulging underneath my fingers. With the sensation of feeling Tommy’s hard, flexed muscle came the realisation that it would take very, very little to make my throbbing dick explode with an absolute tsunami of cum. One little tug on my hard on through my jeans, or even just one little accidental brush of my crotch against Tommy’s phenomenally conditioned, barely covered glutes and it would undoubtedly all be over. With his magnificent back fully oiled, Tommy spun around to face Stuart and I. The moment he did, my face suddenly flushed and I felt a new, crippling and intense sense of shyness, which would undoubtedly had been even more intense had I not long before been running my fingers over his gloriously striated ass. Whether the biggest contributor to this was the fact that he could suddenly see my face, and the un-nerving possibility of him being able to read my expressions, the fact that his slabs of perfectly smooth pec meat and thick, blocky, beautiful nickname earning abs were now inches away from my body, or whether it was the prospect of getting my hands on his insanely muscular, and crazily conditioned torso, I wasn’t entirely sure, but my pulse was suddenly racing and I seemed physically incapable of looking Tommy Foster in the eye. I’d never been more attracted to anyone than I was to Tommy in that moment. Here was a man who had transcended a normal level of hotness to become the kind of bona fide muscle freak guys like me can only dream of seeing in the flesh. His potent, masculine, and extremely arousing scent was present once again and stronger than ever, and his gorgeous, rock hard, thinly skinned torso seemed to be radiating an incredible heat. As Stuart Fox sprayed oil onto the right, thick, slab-like pec hanging off his chest, I suddenly wondered what I wanted most in that moment; for a hole to appear beneath me on the floor of Tommy Foster's hotel room floor and swallow me clean into the ground, or for Tommy to suddenly wrap his magnificently muscular arm around my waist, push me into his hard, Adonis-like body and bring his lips to mine for an amazing, soft, passionate kiss. After taking the bottle of Tommy’s oil from Stuart and pumping a couple of sprays onto the obscenely pumped chest meat before me, the task I’d performed so easily on Tommy’s rear body parts suddenly seemed a lot more daunting and nerve wracking, because now I was being watched by the very man who happened to be turning me on more than any other person on the planet ever had before. As Tommy’s phenomenally muscular chest glistened and wetted with the newly sprayed oil, I could feel his eyes burning into me, inviting, even daring me to make eye contact. As I sheepishly glanced up, his mouth curled into a devastatingly sexy, unwittingly mischievous and knowing grin, which told me one thing; there was absolutely no hiding my emotions from Tommy Foster. He knew exactly the kind of effect he, and his glorious slabs of freakishly shredded, tightly wrapped muscle were having on me. No muscle addict would be able to accurately predict what it feels like to rub their hands over the perfectly pumped up pecs of a competition ready bodybuilder. It was hard to believe that Tommy Foster’s chest was actually attached to a human. Or that, given the right amount of training, diet and supplements, I, or anyone other man, could develop pecs like the ones I was touching. It was like someone had invented a new kind of flesh and marble hybrid, implanted it into Tommy’s chest and wrapped it in the thinnest, silkiest, most beautifully bronzed skin ever found on a human being. With mine and Stuart's faces closer to Tommy's than before, the act of oiling up his pecs was undoubtedly the most intimate moment we'd shared in his hotel room yet, but it also seemed to bring something I hadn't really anticipated. There was absolutely no denying that the atmosphere suddenly seemed a lot more sexual and suggestive than it had done before, which only eased slightly when my hands were free from his chest, Stuart was covering his right shoulder with oil, and Tommy paid us the most charming and unexpected compliment which sent my imagination spiralling into overdrive. “You guys are good at this. Maybe I should take you both with me to my next competition.” And with that single comment, my career ambition as a camera man suddenly evaporated to make room for a new one; a career as a joint personal assistant to ridiculously hot, middleweight muscle beast Tommy Foster. Duties would include, but not be limited to; shopping for and picking out the hottest, shiniest, most colourful posing trunks for his competitions, managing his social media channels and ensuring every picture either I, or his other personal assistant (Stuart Fox) take is accompanied with a cheeky, engaging comment such as, “Lines in my ass people! I have lines in my fucking ass!” or, “Who needs a cheese grater when you abs like THESE?” filming various videos for the Internet, ranging from training videos, hotel room, gym and locker room posing, along with quirkier videos of him flexing, posing and showing off in public spaces (supermarkets/a park etc.) and catching every shocked, surprised, awe-stricken, and occasionally terrified reaction from every unsuspecting member of the public lucky enough to be a witness, applying tan and oil to every inhumanly shredded body part for his competitions, for which full attendance will be required, shouting out various words of encouragement during his posing routine and comparison rounds such as, “Crank it hard, Tommy,” “Squeeeeeze those glutes,” and, “Come on ya monster,” (naturally Stuart will be better at performing this part of the job than me) and getting on all fours on his hotel room bed after every bodybuilding show and taking it in turns with Stuart Fox to get my tight arse pumped and filled up with the copious amount of cum he’ll have built up from spending all day flexing and strutting around in his posers, showing off his hyper-masculine, outrageously pumped, God-like muscles with a bunch of other huge, shredded muscle freaks. Tommy’s comment seemed to relax the atmosphere slightly, and as I worked my hand into the incredible space which made up Tommy’s absurdly sized, newly oiled left shoulder, it was not nerves, but sheer excitement I felt at the prospect of what was next, and what caused a small smirk to form on my face; I was about to get my hands on the upper arms of an insanely pumped bodybuilder. With his arms lifted up in line with his shoulders, outstretched and straight in preparation, I sprayed and worked my hands over the shockingly muscular upper arms of Tommy Foster. Even un-flexed, his arms felt impossibly huge. He twisted them to ensure I could oil up the inner part of his upper arms and I worked my hands around the un-tensed bicep muscle. I wanted so badly for him to unexpectedly bring his fist and forearm up and erupt into a full flex, and to feel his incredible bicep muscle underneath my fingers in all it’s full glory, but frustratingly, Tommy wouldn’t oblige. With my hands dancing between the unfathomably sized bicep and tricep muscles in their un-flexed state, I was completely entranced by the sheer thinness of the skin covering the muscle. The only things lurking under the shiny, bronzed skin of his tree trunk sized arms were superhuman, granite hard muscle mass and thin, wiry, freak-show worthy veins. With every inch of his arms oiled and, sadly, not even the slightest flex performed, Tommy’s body was, once again, free of our hands. With the bottle of oil in my hand, tentatively awaiting it's next shake and spray, I realised there was only one part of his body left to do; that phenomenally conditioned midsection, home to Tommy’s six beautifully shaped, brilliantly thick, gorgeous nickname earning abs. Leaving the right three blocks for my filming mentor, newly crowned oiling buddie, and future joint personal assistant to Tommy Foster, I sprayed oil onto my half of one of the most beautiful sets of cobblestone shaped abdominals I’d seen on any bodybuilder, in reality, or on any PC screen or magazine page. As I gave the part of his midsection next to his abs the same treatment, which seemed to unveil, and bring out more of his shredded serratus and blistering obliques, Tommy surprised me by gently throwing his arms around the back of his head. With Stuart in the process of oiling up his side of Tommy’s midsection, I nervously placed my hand on mine. The second my fingers made contact with the bumps protruding from Tommy’s tummy, they momentarily stretched upwards. With an unexpected, “TSSSSSSS,” from their freak of an owner, they then travelled back down, protruded from his stomach further and exploded under my fingertips until I was touching the big, blocky, fully crunched abdominals of a bodybuilder who’d gently crunched down into a cheeky abs and thighs pose. I’m not sure what sensation was the freakiest; the thick, juicy bumps of cling wrap skinned abdominal muscle against my skin, or the feeling of the deep, prominent lines, crazily separating each ab block, which were repeatedly meeting with my fingertips. It completely blew my mind how one man had managed to carve out his stomach to such a freakish degree, until there was nothing left but lumps and bumps of hard, thick muscle and skin so tight and thin you had to wonder whether it was even worth having. As my fingers moved to the right of his abs, Tommy, still with his arms behind his head in an abs and thighs stance, responded by twisting his head and upper body to the left. As he crunched down once more, with a short sharp hissing sound, yet more lumps of muscle that made up his incredible serratus and obliques erupted before my eyes and under my fingers, putting me in mind of a poster of an anatomy chart that used to hang on one of my Science classrooms at school, which I was always strangely drawn to, but never really quite knew why.
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  14. Eight It felt like the whole world had gone into slow motion as I tried to comprehend what was happening. A genuine bodybuilder in insane, competition condition was inviting me to oil him up. There had to be a catch. I looked down and noticed that the oil was in a spray-bottle. No actual bodily contact had to be necessary. I would press down on the head of the bottle and the oil would spray onto Tommy’s perfectly pumped, alien-like physique, but surely he would be the one to do the rubbing? Surely I wouldn’t actually get to place my hands on his phenomenally huge mounds and crazily developed slabs of thinly skinned muscle? Even though I was convinced that this was the case, the mere mention or thought of any kind of oiling up of a bodybuilder had not only caused a serious lack of space in my underwear, but it felt like I was suddenly sporting my biggest, hardest and most intense erection of the day. Without really considering an alternative option, I cautiously took the bottle of oil from Tommy’s hand. I then shot a quick, nervous glance at Stuart Fox, who, at this point, seemed to be trying his best to act as if what was unfolding was a perfectly normal occurrence. Tommy also looked completely nonchalant as he posed his next question. “Have you ever oiled up a bodybuilder before, Charlie?” Oh yes, Tommy mate. Every bloody weekend an incredibly conditioned, freakishly muscular bodybuilder in brightly coloured, minuscule posing trunks pops round to my house, plonks himself in the middle of my bedroom and just stands there with his arms outstretched for a head to toe oil up. What the bleeding buggering hell do YOU think?! Still in a state of shock at what was happening, I shook my head and gave him a mumbled, “No,” and he casually proceeded to give me instructions. “You need to give the bottle a good shake before you spray it on. Just a few sprays on to the chosen body part, and then just really rub it in.” “Rub it in”! Did he just say “rub it fucking in”?! Chances of me fainting dead on Tommy Foster’s hotel room floor? VERY BLOODY LIKELY! “It’s probably best to start with my quads…” His quads! He wants me to place my hands on his ridiculously developed, gorgeously shredded quads! My actual hands. On his actual fucking quads! Fainting on Tommy Foster’s hotel room floor expected in 3, 2... “…and then work your way up.” Helloooo Tommy Foster’s hotel room floor. Do you mind if I just stay here for a while? “Don’t be afraid to be generous. It washes off easily.” Tommy then turned to my filming mentor. “You can get in here too, Stuart. There’s enough of me to go round.” His mouth then curled into an amused grin at his own outrageously cheeky comment and I couldn’t help but smile in amusement myself, all the time wondering how the hell I was still standing upright and conscious. Tommy Foster/Mr Gorgeous Abs had stopped talking, and the atmosphere suddenly seemed to have become slightly awkward. As he and Stuart Fox glanced at me, I suddenly realised that they were waiting for me to make my move. They were waiting for me to bend down, spray oil onto the insanely thick, deliciously carved quads of a genuine competition conditioned muscle freak, and rub it in using my hands (my actual hands). There was nothing else to do than to oblige. Crouching down, with one knee on the carpet, and my face mere inches away from his absurdly sized wheels, as instructed, I gave Tommy’s bottle of oil a few good shakes. As I sprayed twice on to his left quad, three questions arose in my head; #1. How can one man’s legs be so monstrously thick and muscular? #2. Why am I so turned on by the scent of the shiny yellow fabric of his posing trunks, now mere inches away from my face, along with the thick bulge that’s still struggling to be contained by it? #3. How the bleeding buggering FUCK is this actually happening to me?! Conscious of the fact that Stuart was standing over me, I reached my hand up and gave him the bottle. Even though he looked more nervous than I’d seen him doing so before, the left corner of his mouth curled slightly into a coy, and excited smile as he took the bottle of oil from me and proceeded to kneel down next to me at Tommy Foster’s legs. As Stuart sprayed the oil onto Tommy’s right quad, I stared at the glistening mound of impossibly muscular, thinly skin wrapped leg meat. Time, once again, seemed to slow down as I prepared to do something I never imagined I would get the possibility to do and place my hands on the freakishly developed muscle of an actual living, breathing bodybuilder. What I certainly wasn’t prepared for was said bodybuilder to suddenly and unexpectedly tense and flex that freakishly developed muscle the second my hand made contact. If I had to describe the sensation of running my hands over the incredible mounds of rock hard, inhumanly thick, gorgeously soft skin wrapped muscle which made up Tommy Foster’s quads and feeling the deep lines and freakish separations under my fingertips, I would probably say it was the closest I’ve ever felt to experiencing an orgasm without actually having one. It was like I had transcended a normal level of arousal. My whole body felt like it was undergoing some hyper-sensual, otherworldly experience that the majority of people would never know existed, let alone have the chance to experience. The door to the world of extreme muscle I had opened when I’d stumbled across the image of the huge, shredded, flexing bodybuilder in my parents TV listings guide all those years ago was long behind me and I was now smack bang in the middle of it, down on one knee with the shiny posing trunk clad bulge of a muscle bull mere inches from my head, rubbing oil into his phenomenal sized, alien-like quads, feeling every ridge, line and separation under my fingers and wondering if I’d ever have an experience so powerful, intoxicating and mind blowingly erotic again. I wondered whether Stuart Fox was feeling anything even close to what I was as he gave Tommy Foster’s right quad the same treatment, and whether it was actually the first time he’d managed to feel the freaky muscle of a bodybuilder, either on one of his previous three shows or otherwise. That particular question hadn’t even occurred to me before that moment, but I’d suddenly become extremely curious to know the answer to it. The wave of disappointment I felt as the task of oiling up Tommy Foster’s incredible, barely human quads had completed, and Tommy spun around to present Stuart and I with the rear of his physique, quickly evaporated when he reached his hands around to the back of his posing trunks and outrageously tucked the bright yellow material into the crack of his ass and I was suddenly staring at a pair of gorgeously tanned and gloriously thick glutes. I looked over at my tanning buddie who looked completely awestruck and ever so slightly terrified, presumably at being in such close proximity of an ass so astonishingly big and, thanks to the owner, suddenly barely covered. As Stuart’s mouth curled slightly into a devilish grin, I wondered whether that fear was, in fact, for another reason. Was he suddenly, like me, wondering whether Tommy Foster had tucked his trunks into the crack of his mammoth sized bottom because he was expecting us to oil it up? Surely that was above and beyond the duties of any friend, training partner or nervous, muscle crazed work experience guy lucky enough to be asked to perform the task of oiling up a bodybuilder? Or was it? The glutes were a muscle group that would surely have to get oiled up just like any other. Was I about to get my hands on an actual pair of insanely developed and obscenely thick glutes? Predictability, rubbing oil into Tommy’s tight, taught hamstrings was considerably less arousing than doing so with his quads. So much so, that I completely underestimated just how incredible his freakish and enormous sized calves would feel. I’d never been massively into calf muscles, until that very moment I was knelt down on the floor at the feet of a bodybuilder running my hands over the granite hard, ridiculously huge mound of muscle exploding off the back of his lower leg. I’d almost forgotten that Tommy was an actual, living person, and not just a mass of freakish muscle put on the earth purely for the pleasure of Stuart and I until he spoke, and addressed us with a rather unexpected question. “So how long have you guys known each other?” Even without facing Tommy, the prospect of talking to him still all but terrified me, and it was left to my filming mentor to reply. “Erm…we only just met this morning,” Stuart replied. “Oh, wow!” Tommy replied, with genuine surprise in the tone of his voice. “You seem like you’ve known each other for a while.” I sheepishly looked at Stuart who was returning a slightly embarrassed but undoubtedly affectionate smirk similar to the one I was completely failing to repress. It was an expression which told me one thing; Stuart Fox was clearly feeling the same connection between us that I had been, pretty much since he started sharing his fantastic and inventive pump room game with me that morning. Whatever was happening between Stuart and I one thing for was certain; it felt incredible special. Furthermore, I couldn’t deny how particularly brilliant it was to have a like minded muscle lover, clearly just as crazily turned on by muscle that I was, by my side and sharing my experience of oiling up a competition conditioned bodybuilder. In that moment I decided that I wouldn’t go home that day without attempting two things; firstly, finding out whether Stuart Fox was currently embarking on his first experience of oiling up a bodybuilder, and secondly, getting his phone number. I’d just about rubbed every last bit of oil into Tommy’s calves when Stuart Fox handed me back the bottle of oil. With his hamstrings also well and truly oiled, I looked up to see the copious amount of Tommy’s bum meat staring down at me in the most magnificent image and wondered what the hell my next move was going to be. I could only guess that Stuart Fox, helplessly and nervously staring back at me in that moment, was pondering the same question in his head that I was. The question which had been on my mind since Tommy Foster had unexpectedly wedged the back of those obscenely shiny posers into the crack of his ass and was now in desperate need of an answer; did Tommy Foster want us to place our grubby, muscle loving hands on his outrageously muscular, crazily developed, posing trunk devouring ass? “Hey, guys,” Tommy unexpectedly said. “Don’t forget the glutes.” He wants us to place our grubby, muscle loving hands on his outrageously muscular, crazily developed, posing trunk devouring ass!! “I worked hard for those bad boys!” Two words. Cheeky bugger! Two more words. FUCK YES!! Wondering whether I’d experience a more surreal moment for the rest of my living days, I shook Tommy Foster’s bottle of oil and pumped two sprays onto his indecently thick and meaty right buttock. It wasn’t until the second spray that Tommy suddenly tensed said buttock, and, right before my eyes, his amazing ass shrivelled up, a dozen of the freakiest lines and striations erupted and I was staring directly at the most beautiful pair of real life, genuine, gorgeously shredded glutes. It was a moment made even more brilliant when Stuart Fox unexpectedly and accidentally muttered a hushed, “Fuck!” in response, followed by a look of sheer panic and a sudden case of violent blushing to his cheeks. It wasn’t just the actual words that made up Tommy Foster’s response to Stuart Fox's verbal slip which suddenly made the whole scene feel even more highly erotic, but the incredibly arrogant, undeniably masculine and rather dirty sounding tone in which he delivered them; “Yeah, baby!”
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  15. Taking the camera from me, the warm, friendly demeanour of Mr Gorgeous Abs I’d experienced prior to his posing had suddenly returned; a sharp contrast to the flexing, face scrunching, noisy animal I’d witnessed not minutes before. “I wasn’t sure if that was gonna work, but I think that went pretty well?” He was addressing both Stuart and I, once again, engaging us in conversation. “That was awesome! Completely different to the average posing video you see on the net,” Stuart enthusiastically replied. I couldn’t help but be in awe of my filming mentor’s confidence in his ability to talk to a competitive bodybuilder stripped to nothing but his packed yellow posers and crisp white socks, while I stood awkwardly in silence, seemingly incapable of mustering up a single word. “That’s what I was going for,” Mr Gorgeous replied, with a mischievous grin. “I may have only come second place, but I reckon I’ve got Justin Hughes beat in the posing department,” he playfully added. Excusing himself, Tommy retreated to the en suite bathroom of his hotel room, leaving Stuart and I alone for the first time since we’d left the pump room. The second the bathroom door was closed, we were looking at each other wide eyed with stupid, excitable smirks in response to the inexplicably awesome event that had just occurred in that very room. “I think that might have been the greatest few minutes of my life,” Stuart amusingly said. As I grinned and nodded in agreement, Stuart added, “Not to mention the hottest!” Not only was this a statement that caused me to slightly blush, but the second after Stuart had said it, the most adorably coy expression emerged on his face. His statement seemed to hang in the air, and as we stayed looking and smiling at each other in a slightly bashful manner, a certain tension seemed to arise in the atmosphere, and a moment seemed to be happening between me and Stuart Fox. A moment shared by two people who undeniably felt a mutual affection for each other. I couldn’t help thinking that if we had been in a film, it would also be the moment just before Stuart Fox and I would finally satisfy our audience, and share a kiss. Whatever feelings Stuart Fox might have had towards me, one thing was clear on my behalf; I was well and truly smitten with the undeniably handsome and increasingly charming man who’d been given the job as my filming mentor, taken me under his wing, coaxed me into instructing bodybuilders on what poses to hit, invited me to play the most fantastic and creative muscle related game of finding bodybuilders with the best of certain attributes in the pump room, surprised me with his confession that he wasn’t actually a camera man and all but admitted to me that he was a beef crazed muscle addict like me, who was turned on by nothing more than huge, shredded muscle freaks, and stood by my side as one very such muscle freak flexed just feet away from us in his hotel room in the most genuinely brilliant and ridiculously hot display of muscle posing imaginable. Unfortunately, that meant that another thing had become abundantly clear. At some point I would have to break the news to Bryan Macleod that he was no longer the future Mrs Charlie Steatham. Sorry Bryan mate, but they’ll be no big wedding cake with miniature figurine versions of us in matching “LIVE FOR THE PUMP” t-shirts perched on the top after all. I know it must be tough for you to hear, but I just can’t deny my feelings any longer. He might not have furry forearms, his chest might not bulge through his t-shirt, and he’s probably not what one would describe as “woof worthy”, but my heart has well and truly been won over. Plus, Charlie Steatham-Fox? You can’t deny that has a rather nice ring to it. “I have to be honest, I was starting to doubt his title as the most outrageously cocky poser in the room after watching Blaine Holton earlier,” Stuart Fox said in a slightly hushed voice, pulling me out of my imaginary difficult conversation with Bryan Macleod and back into the reality of Mr Gorgeous Abs’ hotel room. I frowned and shook my head. “We definitely gave it to the right man!” I replied. Stuart mischievously beamed and nodded his head in response. “Hands down the cockiest posing I’ve ever seen!” he replied, before teasingly adding, “You shit yourself when he walked towards you.” As I offered up a coy smile, the sound of a toilet flushing interrupted our conversation. Any chance to retort was diminished as Tommy emerged from the bathroom, looking just as beautifully shredded, crazily pumped and freakishly muscular as he had before. As I turned to watch him strolling towards us wearing nothing but his shiny yellow posers, crisp white socks and a warm, friendly grin, my eyes immediately veered to the six shockingly beautiful blocks of abdominal muscle protruding from his thinly skinned stomach. I couldn’t help but think how utterly surreal and dream-like it felt to be standing in the same, small room as someone with such incredible and freaky stomach muscles. “Thanks again for doing this, guys. I really appreciate it.” At this point Tommy was, once again, standing in front of Stuart and I, relaxed with his hands resting on his hips, unintentionally inviting my eyes towards the modestly big bulge stuffed into his brightly coloured trunks. I suddenly had the overwhelming urge to bend down, grab the sides of his magnificently developed quads, bring my mouth to his posing trunk encased bulge and suck on it through the shiny yellow material until his cock exploded and he shot a massive load of much pent up spunk. If he wanted to crank out a most muscular, or hit an abs and thighs pose or two as I was bent down working on his posing trunk covered cock, then I’d be more than OK with that. “I hope I won’t get you guys into trouble by dragging you away like this,” Tommy continued. I turned to Stuart Fox who was shaking his head in a reassuring manner so convincing that even I almost started to believe that there was little chance of our field trip away from the bodybuilding show getting us into hot water. The hint of finality in Mr Gorgeous Abs as he spoke, and the fact that we had finished what we’d been asked to do gave me no doubt that we would be soon be heading back to the pump room to discover whether or not that was actually the case. What I definitely couldn’t have predicted at that particular moment was Tommy’s next statement. “If Bryan gives you any trouble, just blame the whole thing on me.” The cheeky and undeniably sexy grin that accompanied his words wasn’t enough to deter the surprise in hearing Tommy say Bryan Macleod’s name. Given Bryan’s place on the camera crew, I reasoned that it wasn’t unusual for him to be acquainted with a competitive bodybuilder. But there was a small part of me, maybe the hopeful, opportunistic part that couldn't help but wonder whether there was something more to be read in how Mr Gorgeous Abs knew the name of a man who was so obviously gay. I couldn’t help but notice a flicker of something in Stuart Fox’s expression, and the tone of his voice as he posed his next question, which suggested he was perhaps thinking a similar thing. “Oh, you know Bryan?” “We’ve hung out a couple of times.” It wasn’t just the slightly cautious but undoubtedly suggestive tone in Tommy Foster’s voice which accompanied his reply, but the look he gave both Stuart and I as he delivered it. Maybe I was reading the whole thing wrong, and maybe it was just my typically over active imagination spiralling out of control, but it felt like there was a hidden connotation to what Tommy was saying, and loud alarm bells were suddenly ringing in my head. Could it be? Was there any small, remote chance that the amazing mountain of ripped to ribbons muscle standing before me, with biceps the size of croquet balls and abs which would give any washing machine or cheese grater a damn good run for their money, was gay? “So how long have you guys worked with him?” “This is my fourth show,” Stuart replied. “And it’s Charlie’s first. He’s on a work experience placement for his university course,” he added, once again speaking on behalf of his painfully shy filming partner. Mr Gorgeous Abs looked at me with a surprised and amused expression. “A bodybuilding show is a pretty unusual place to go on a work experience placement.” I gave a sheepish smile in response, before, finally, offering up my first words to the ridiculously hot middleweight muscle freak standing before me. “The classmate who came on the placement with me wasn’t too impressed!” Tommy’s smile grew wider in response. In addition to the content of said response, I wondered whether this was also because he’d managed to finally engage me in conversation. “Not a fan of bodybuilding, huh?” Unlike YOU Charlie Steatham, who is clearly a massive muscle loving bender who hasn’t stopped drooling over my slabs of perfectly pumped, tan drenched beef since the moment we met, and clearly wanted nothing more than to cream in your panties when I stomped up to you to and squeezed a big, nasty most muscular in your terrified little face. “It’s definitely not for everyone. My mom keeps any pictures of me in competition well away from my grandma. Her heart’s not in great condition and the sight of me shredded and flexing out a most muscular in tiny posers would probably finish her off for good! I’m guessing you guys have a bit more of an…” he paused before continuing in the same cautious but suggestive manner he’d adopted when informing us he’d hung out with Bryan Macelod, “invested interest?” OH GOD. OH JESUS. Did he actually just say those words?! As I stood almost paralysed at what Tommy Foster was saying, the alarm bells were in full, loud activation. “Invested interest” could surely only translate into one thing; you’re *both* massive muscle loving benders who haven’t stopped drooling over my slabs of perfectly pumped, tan drenched beef since the moment we met, and I’m perfectly capable of making you both cum with a single flex of my bicep. I nervously looked at Stuart Fox, who looked as unsure and weary at the situation that was unfolding I was. “I’m sure a few of the camera men back there probably do,” Tommy continued with a knowing, slightly mischievous but friendly tone. Stuart and I nervously laughed in response, as the tone of his statement seemed to provide us with a little reassurance that what Tommy Foster was, to my sheer amazement, implying, no matter how risky and controversial, was meant in good faith, and clearly a way of connecting with us on our level. Why exactly he felt the need to do that was still a little unclear at that point, and was perhaps the main cause for why my imagination was suddenly leaping into overdrive. This wasn’t helped by Mr Gorgeous Abs’ next question. "So listen, I could probably go in for some more posing, if you guys are up for it?” There was no way to quieten the noise in my head at that moment. A bodybuilder in gloriously shredded, competition condition had invited me and my filming mentor to his hotel room to film a video of him posing for the Internet. That had been done. He then seemed to imply that he knew we were beef crazed muscle lovers who would love nothing more than to wrap their fingers around his impossibly pumped biceps, which was swiftly followed by an invitation to watch him perform more posing. More posing for a legitimate bodybuilding video from a legitimate bodybuilder for the Internet, or more posing from a possibly gay, or maybe just extremely open minded, bodybuilder who wanted to flex for two gay muscle lovers in his hotel room because he wanted nothing more than for them to wrap their fingers around his impossibly pumped biceps? I nervously looked at Stuart Fox, who, still looking perplexed, was nodding his head. “I think we’ve got enough time for that, ” he replied with a hint of nerves in his voice I hadn’t previously heard. They both looked at me for reassurance and I nodded and nervously smiled, all the while wondering whether my pounding heart was actually going to burst out of my chest at some point very shortly. “Excellent!” Mr Gorgeous Abs replied, with the most excitable and surprisingly elated grin on his face. Tommy turned and headed back to his bag, which was sitting on the desk in his room, and my heart felt like it sank a little when I realised that he was clearly reaching for his camera. We were about to film another video. A legitimate bodybuilding video from a legitimate bodybuilder who obviously wasn’t gay and had absolutely zero interest in having his impossibly pumped biceps felt by two gay muscle lovers. It was only when he turned back around to face us and I saw what was grasped in his right hand that I realised he hadn’t been reaching for his camera after all. “I could do with an oil up.” Back standing just a foot away from us, I almost physically gasped as Mr Gorgeous Abs held out his arm and, pointing the bottle of bodybuilding contest oil he’d just retrieved from his bag in my direction, uttered the most unlikely words imaginable. “Do you guys wanna help me out?” TIMES MY HEAD ALMOST EXPLODED BECAUSE SOMETHING COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY AMAZING HAPPENED DURING MY WORK EXPERIENCE PLACEMENT #10. The moment I realised Tommy Foster/Mr Gorgeous Abs was inviting me to oil him up. HOLY! JESUS! FUCKING! CHRIST!
    1 point
  16. I knew what I did could land me in jail, but everyone in the brokerage business was doing it. I was sure I wouldn’t get caught, but my luck didn’t work out that way. Now I found myself entering an upscale white-collar prison in upstage New York. I had no idea how much my life was about to change. “Put him in the cell with Tiny – this pretty boy doesn’t stand a chance with anyone else,” the elderly guard at the check-in point said to two other guys as I stood there waiting. “He must know some prick in high places. It says here that the fucker gets to keep all his stuff – even his own clothes. I’m feeling generous today, man, so I’m going to let it happen.” The guy tossed me a box containing my stuff and the other two guys began leading me through a maze of hallways and sliding iron gates until we reached cell number 423. One guy opened the barred door and pushed me in. It was late, so most of the large space was dark. I could barely make out a figure lying on a bed against the back wall. There was a couple of desks, a commode, a sink, and my bed, which was up front near the door. I placed my things on the desk near my bed. “What’s up,” I said, trying to appear calm and cocky. I had been warned about the need to act in control from the get-go. “Hmmph,” was the only sound that was returned. It almost sounded like a low growl. The hairs on the back of neck sprang to life. There was something in the deep guttural voice that made me worry that my cellmate was sick – like he had a bad cold or worse. I couldn’t make the guy out in the dimmed light, so I just returned to unpacking my stuff. I hear the bed make a noise like it’s screaming for mercy as Tiny moves to sit up. I force myself to not look over – mainly because I want to make it clear that I’m not here to make friends. As I unfolded some clothes a new noise came from the back – one that forced me to look. It was like heavy breathing, but it was steady and had a rhythm to it. I turned and stepped further into the cell, in order to move out of the glare from the hallway and get a better look at Tiny. What I saw caused me to fall back against my desk. I had to grab the chair to prevent myself from falling. There, on the bed, cranking out alternate curls with the heaviest looking dumbbells I’d ever seen, was something that looked like a cross between a rhino and a real-life Paul Bunyan. The first thing I noticed was size – monstrous size. Every thing about Tiny was the complete opposite of the name. The dude must have been fucking six-seven or more. I could even tell while he on the bed because his head was higher than mine and the guy was sitting down. I first thought the orange prison outfit he was wearing must have been old because it had holes everywhere and looked worn out, but then I noticed that it was actually ripped at the seams in many places because what was probably the largest size they made couldn’t contain the monstrous body. There were rips at the shoulders, across the biceps, and big tears running up and down the upper legs. The front part of the uniform was unzipped down to the guy’s stomach just because he couldn’t have made the two sides meet if he had an army of guys tugging – the massive chest beneath was just too huge. These gaps in the material caused the second mind-blowing realization in the midst of my astonished first look at Tiny. The man was covered in manly fur – just like the lumberjack mythical figure of olden stories. Dark hair cascaded over the two giant pecs busting through the upper part of his outfit. His sleeves had obviously been shredded by thick forearms and then rolled up to his elbows – revealing a forest of heavy fur there, too. But what really drew my eye was the substantial head of dark hair and the closely cropped dense beard and mustache. I instantly thought of old commercials for Brawny paper towels and the giant flannel shirt-wearing monster that promoted them. This guy could have easily been the live version of that animation. Tiny – how could this man have that nickname - didn’t look at me. He concentrated on the movement of the immense looking weight in each hand, as he brought them up one at a time. The motion made both biceps swell up through the holes in the sleeves like a pair of giant whales alternately breaking through the ocean surface. He was grunting loudly and it was obvious the weight on one dumbbell was more than my entire body could ever lift. The sight before me made me become an ignorant fool immediately. I had no control over any part of my body or mind. “Fuck, you’re huge!” blurted out of my mouth without any forethought. The weights stopped in mid-motion and the man lifted his head to look at me. Eyes so piercingly blue that it was like looking at a double full moon on the darkest night of the year. He said nothing and his stare made me almost piss on myself. I suddenly turned into some kind of frightened puppy that knows he has done something wrong – cowering in front of his owner. Paul Bunyan had suddenly turned into a terrifying colossal beast and I wished I could disappear. The man finally lowered his gaze and began cranking out reps again – what number was he on by now, a hundred? Or was it more? The cell was filled with a mixture of his deep exhaling gusts of wind and grunts of exertion. The sound was so primeval that I was sure if we had been in the jungle gorillas would have flocked to us by the hundreds just to be fucked by this behemoth. I was shocked by my sudden need to be dominated by this man. What was up with me? I was a powerful man that had never thought of another guy in this way. I usually told other people what to do, but here I was with this deep desire that my cellmate use me like a toy. I shook my head in hopes of clearing these unwanted new thoughts from my head. That’s when the foundation of the building shook – I looked over and saw that Tiny had dropped his weights to the floor. He was sitting there rolling his clamped fists in circles, which made his forearms and biceps explode like mountains of granite-like muscle. My vision blurred as my mind tried to comprehend his size and power. Then the man stood up and my legs gave out. I knew Tiny was a giant, but nothing could have prepared me for the way that his huge frame filled the entire pace. It was like those small toys you got when you were a kid – those capsules you’d drop in water and they’d balloon out to large sponge animals or something. His upper body expanded beyond anything I had ever seen before. His shoulders would have almost filled a double doorframe and his pecs seemed to poke out so far that I could have stood under them in a thunderstorm, not feeling a drop of rain. And seeing his super pumped-up arms made me want to lay on the floor in a fetal position and suck my thumb. Nothing in my entire life had ever made me feel so weak. I knew instantly that all my preconceptions of strength were now obsolete. Only now did my eyes feast on something that was true power. My subconscious clearly understood this and that’s why I had turned into such a shivering meek wimp, for compared to Tiny that’s exactly what I was. The huge man just stood there tensing different parts of his body. My eyes would dart to whatever muscle he chose to tighten and my stomach would do somersaults as I gazed on how everything bulged to insane proportions. I could not fathom how a human could grow so enormous. My ogling his body ended when I suddenly became aware that the man was staring at me. I hadn’t even looked up at his face, but my entire being knew that the giant was boring a hole through me. I glanced up at his beautiful, but hard, face. He didn’t speak at first and this caused me to get even more frightened than I already was – fearful that I might do something to cause him to easily rip my body apart. My lip actually started trembling and for a second – but only a second – I thought I saw pity in his eyes. When he spoke his deep voice reverberated off the cellblock’s walls and it felt like a helicopter was landing inside my chest. "Come here boy," he said calmly, but I could hear such authority in his voice that I knew my life depended on my response. I looked around – as if he might be talking to someone else. I so didn’t want to do anything wrong, but in my present state of complete fear I also found it hard to make my body move. I waited too long. "Come here boy," he said again in a louder voice. The increased sound level and the fact that he had asked a second time caused my body to react without even getting orders from my brain. My legs jerked forward quickly and I basically ran to him, not gauging how fast I was moving or how far his chest stuck out from the rest of his body. My head bumped into his pecs hard and it was like hitting the side of a mountain. I bounced off and fell backwards to the ground. My hand instinctively moved to my forehead to rub away the pain caused by his marbled muscle skin. For a second I got confused and wondered if I had actually smacked into the concrete wall instead, but then I looked up and see Tiny bent over so he was able to see me over his massive chest. It was the first time I had seen him smile, but it actually made me again shiver in fear. "Damn boy you are weak, get your ass up now," he ordered as he straightened back up. I quickly stood up, but I couldn’t look at the man. I kept my gaze downward because I was ashamed. I then got my first up close look at his giant quads – wide and bulging through the stretched-to-the-max tears in the upper legs of his uniform. It looked as if any movement at all would make the rest of the material shred to pieces and fall from his tree-trunk legs. My shock and admiration for his legs did not go unnoticed by the colossal beast. "Mmm, good boy,” he said firmly. “That’s the first correct thing you’ve done since you got here. It’s right that you should admire my monster quads. You like ‘em, don’t you, little man. Yeah, those things could squeeze the life out of you – without much effort at all." With that, the big man turned his body a little to the right and he looked up. I followed his gaze. There was a thick metal bar running across the cell. It looked like it had been slammed into the walls on either side, mainly because chunks of the plaster and concrete were missing. It was way too high for me to reach, but I knew a simple jump from Tiny could take his hands to the strong looking piece of metal – and that’s exactly what he intended to do. He pushed off the ground lightly and latched on to the bar with his huge hands. "Now boy, grab onto my waist, I need more weight as I do my pull-ups," he said, without even looking at me. "Uh . . . what? How do I do that . . . sir?" I asked without thinking. I immediately knew the question was a mistake. "Put your arms about my waist and place your legs around my lower body,” he said gruffly. “Damn, boy, are you deaf, dumb or stupid? Or maybe all three." "No sir," I replied quickly. I immediately wrapped my arms around his rock hard stomach and tried to lock my hands across his back, but the guy was just too wide and thick. I squeezed tightly, pressing my face into his chiseled abs. I lifted my feet and latched them on to his hard calves. My entire body quivered from touching so much muscle and my cock became harder than granite. Instantly, both bodies traveled up into the air and then back down as Tiny began to crank out reps. I glanced up and freaked out, watching dumbfounded as he let go of the bar with his right hand first, doing chin-ups with just that arm, and then he did the same with his left. After about 50 repetitions with each arm by itself, I could sense that he settled in to do a long set with both arms. He began to pull us up very slowly – getting the best pump possible and making sure his shoulders, back, and lats were doing all the work. The motion was making his muscle wings burst out insanely during each slow raise. A light sheen of sweat was spreading across his body – nothing compared to the buckets of sweat pouring down my body, caused by me trying desperately not to spew cum into my underwear. My arms kept sliding down his hard-as-marble body and I’d have to squeeze hard and squirm back up his long torso. This caused my face to go bouncing in and out against the thick-as-shit abdominals across his roided gut, which actually caused a lot of pain. It also made my throbbing cock brush against his more than solid quads, sending me closer and closer to ejaculation. There was no way, however, I was going to complain. After what seemed like 75 to 100 reps, the big man stopped in mid lift – I swear his arms were holding all our combined weight like it was nothing – and looked down at me. My heart stopped from fear I had done something wrong. “We’ll take care of that little boner in a while, boy,” he growled. His voice was so intensely masculine and direct that just this short sentence caused my cock to deflate like a pin-poked balloon. I couldn’t explain the reaction, but I had never felt so puny and insignificant. I actually began to shake from fearful thoughts of how he would “take care” of my hard-on. I felt Tiny’s chest and gut shaking a little and I realized the man was chuckling at me – even though it felt like a hungry bear’s stomach rumbling. That’s when I realized he sensed my fear completely. I also could sense he loved the response his presence caused. At the same time I could tell there was something else percolating in the behemoth’s brain. It was something I couldn’t name, but it was like he had a sixth sense concerning how I’d suddenly and unexplainably become such a muscle whore. He knew he could control me just by flexing his super-enlarged body. I unconsciously started whispering numbers as he cranked out more reps. I went deeper into some kind of muscle trance as I continued to brush my face up and down his hard sweaty abs. I didn’t even realize I was moaning like an animal in heat by the time he was done with 200 repetitions. A huge circular pre-cum stain had appeared at my crotch, making it look like I had already shot a big load. Tiny knew instinctively, though, that I wouldn’t erupt until he gave the order. He finally started to slow down the movement of our bodies and actually held the last lift for a long time – as if he were trying to squeeze a few more fibers of muscle into his already massive-packed biceps. He lowered his body and his feet touched the ground. I continued to hang onto the large sweat-drenched man as if my life depended on it. “You can let go now, boy,” he said, chuckling again. While I was forcing my unwilling body to pry itself from his hard muscles, Tiny raised his arms to stretch out the pump. The movements actually made his body become harder and I was literally shoved off – falling to the ground again. At the same time the giant above me flexed into a double biceps pose and instantly I heard the sound of material ripping. I scooted back on the floor, getting my line of vision beyond his protruding chest. I mouthed the word fuck when I saw what had happened. The upward motion of Tiny’s arms and the insane peaks of his guns caused his prison uniform to tear completely in two. The orange jumpsuit was now a strained shirt barely covering his upper body and what looked like a pair of skin-tight shorts because of the way his quads bulged. Tiny continued to stretch and flex parts of his body. He flared out his lats and I immediately heard a second loud tearing noise. We both knew, without even looking that the upper part of the uniform had shredded down the middle of his giant back. And as if the material was confirming what we both knew it slid off his giant shoulders as soon as he dropped his arms. He caught the two pieces of material in his big paws, wadded them together and tossed them to me. They were soaking with sweat and smelled like an army of men had shared wearing them for weeks. The sight of his upper body was so unbelievable all I could do was whimper loudly like a hurt little body. His enormous chest completely boggled my mind and I simply stared with my mouth hanging open as he bounced his mega pecs. I began to shake my head in disbelief and this caused the behemoth to laugh hard and loud. He pointed to my crotch. “That better just be pre-cum, boy,” he said in a somewhat terrifying tone. “I’m still counting on you to churn out enough spunk to fill my big rock-hard belly. I could tell he was fully aware that I was saving my load for when he gave the order, but he wanted to make sure I knew he was in control – as if there were any doubt. He wasn’t shocked at all that his big muscled body could make me leak more pre-cum than I’d shoot in a month – even if I jerked off each day! His confidence and self-awareness was so intense that it felt like some kind of invisible force that surrounded him. His mere presence made me want to find ways to make him happy or win his pleasure. I was a muscle-whipped puny man who only desired this powerful monster standing in front of me. ********* The behemoth nicknamed Tiny stood in front of me – smiling like the Cheshire Cat. His size was so beyond comprehension that my mind simply shut down and I no longer tried to make sense out of the mountain of muscle looming over me. I just stared at his body and enjoyed the rush of blood and cum he caused in my body. My entire being focused only on his hard pecs, his bulging arms and those shoulders that seemed wider than our prison cell itself. By this point I had raised the remnants of his shirt to my nose and I was inhaling deeply. My other hand went directly to my crotch without any message from my brain and started pushing up and down against the hardness in my pants. The material at my nose reeked of Tiny’s scent – a mixture of sweat, muscle, musk, and manliness. I glanced up at the big guy as I continued to sniff his pungent aroma into my body. I let my tongue dart out and run across the shirt – sucking in some sweat. I was trying desperately to get some of his man-juice into my body, thinking it might help get a permanent feeling of the giant inside of me. I rubbed the shirt all over my face and hoped the smell would stick with me forever. As I lowered the shirt back to my mouth, I saw that the big guy was grinning at my actions. He knew I was his completely. “Damn, boy, my thoughts about you were right. You are a sweet muscle-loving pig, aren’t you,” Tiny said as he continued to bounce his monstrous pectorals just to tease me. “Well, I think you need to get up close and personal with all my bulging friends, here. It’s time for you to clean the sweat off of this fucking big body, boy. Let’s get that shirt sopping wet for you. Scramble over here and wipe me all over. And after you clean the massive top half, you can help this giant out of his pants and clean down there, too. I’m so huge it’s hard for me to bend over and pull these tight things off.” Tiny chuckled as he said this. The man’s voice made my balls churn out more juice and force it into my hard cock – causing me great pain. I still wasn’t going to shoot until he said I could. The big man knew nothing in the world could keep me from wiping down his muscles. He also knew the idea of seeing his enormous legs – and the giant club that swung between them – was almost too much for me to handle. I stood up quickly and then stopped in my tracks. I wanted to ask what to do, but I knew I shouldn’t. I reached up – having to stand on my tiptoes – and was barely able to reach the top of his massive shoulders. I ran the shredded shirt over his swollen traps and then started moving down his bulky chest. The shirt soaked up the sweat from the fur that covered his pecs like a sponge dropped in a bucket of water. Being this close to his body caused my knees to give out again and I had to brace myself by placing my free hand up against the big man’s stomach. His manly gut was hard as stone and I could easily feel the ruts between his tight abs. I forced my legs not to buckle and I marveled at how there was no give to his fur-layered gut. I then moved the shirt down the trail of hair in the middle of his stomach and wiped across each perfect row of muscles. It felt like speed bumps in a parking lot. I finish rubbing his body with the shirt and noticed the thing was so wet it felt like I had been soaking it in a tub. I quickly brought the rag to my mouth and sucked in hard – gathering a mouthful of his man-sweat. I savored the liquid in my mouth and then swallowed. I hoped that it would make me taste his body for days. At this point I placed the shirt on the desk behind me and reached out hoping to pull the bottom half of Tiny’s torn jumpsuit off of his body. I could tell, just from looking, that it was going to be difficult to get the tight fabric over his monstrous thighs. “Hell, boy, just tear these things off my body. I need to let my monster hang free – and quickly,” he said loudly and I could see his huge cock twitching through the fabric. “Here, I’ll help you out.” And with that statement the big man flexed his quads – causing layers of muscle to explode everywhere. The stretched-thin material ripped in multiple places at one time and then, as if magically, fell from his tree-trunk legs. It all landed in a pile on the ground at his feet. Seeing the striations and valley-like cuts in his legs caused me to fall forward from lust. My hands brushed against the mega pouch of his jock as I braced myself against his thighs. I moaned out loud as I felt the heat emanating from the stuffed stretched-to-the-max piece of material trying to contain his cock. I then became dizzy as I tried to grab the front of his monstrous quads, which felt harder and thicker than marble. I let out a loud whimper as I gazed at the obviously old jock strap. It had holes all over it – with juicy bits of meat bulging out. It seemed like any movement by his dick would cause the material to bust just as the bottom of his jumpsuit had done. The pitiful cloth was strained beyond belief – trying to contain a huge slab of beef that matched the giant size of the man in front of me. Tiny’s rod was much bigger than my forearm and his balls looked like basketballs stuffed in a weak bag. I gasped out loud and my right hand went to my mouth. I had never seen such a beautiful and frightening sight at the same time. I was scared at what this big dick would do to my small body, but I was also drawn to the idea of riding his monstrous pole. I begin to question how a man could be so huge below the waist, but then I simply accepted it as so because the big club had to match the rest of him. I absentmindedly grabbed the wet torn shirt behind me and started to move it all over Tiny’s big quads – never taking my eyes off of his giant cock. I then remembered that I was supposed to take the jock off too. I stopped suddenly, realizing that as soon as I touched this huge man’s love-pouch I was surely going to pass out. I knew I couldn’t do it. He must have realized what I was feeling, as well, because I watched as the beast flexed his giant prick and the strap immediately exploded off of his body, hitting me in the face like a giant rubber band. I felt great pain, but loved every moment. “Damn boy, you are a good cell mate,” he exclaimed as I started to grasp what he had just done. “I’m going to do you another favor, little man. Pick up that jock that just smacked you in the face.” Tiny continued to flex his cock so it bounced up and down in front of me. I simply stared at the big log and moaned out loud. Suddenly, I was only aware of the big man in front of me - nothing else in the world mattered. He could have asked me to do anything and I would have obeyed. I reached down, grabbed the strap, and placed it in the huge waiting hand of my cellmate. The giant took the large busted strap and tied it around my neck – almost like a scarf. “There you go, little one,” he said smiling at me, “this way you can’t say I’ve never given you anything nice. And also, now my manly musk will stay with you always.” With this statement, Tiny wiggled his waist and caused his huge hardened cock to strike against my face. I sucked in hard and held my breath, trying not to shoot a load of cum from the thrill of feeling his dick banging against my cheek. He hit me a little hard on the third pass and the smack that echoed in the room was loud and sounded painful. This caused the big man to roar with laughter. Tiny laughed mainly because the light tap had actually sent me flying across the floor against my bed. Even the guy’s dick had tons of power. What he thought was a light tap could have probably brought down a tree. I sat up slowly and looked at the big man. He was smiling, but not in a way that offered remorse. He loved the fact that his cock could send me flailing. I took a deep breath and loved the fact that the jock around my neck helped me to smell the best part of him – his muscled giant beef-pole. My body jiggled with excitement as I savored the strong whiff of manliness. Still laughing, Tiny walked over to me and looked down his muscled body at my smallness. With lightning speed he bent over, grabbed my pants, and ripped both the slacks and underwear from my body. It didn’t register what had happened until I felt my cock standing straight up in the air and a cool breeze rushing against my skin. “Now get up and finish the job, boy. We don’t have all night,” he said and his order made me very nervous. “My underarms need cleaning.” Tiny straightened and held out his big tree limbs at both sides of his body. I stood up quickly. I looked at the big man’s face and he could see I had a deep pleading in my eyes. It was obvious I wanted to speak and he knew I wasn’t going to say anything until given permission. “What’s up boy?” Tiny asked gruffly. “This had better be good. You can talk while you continue your job.” “Please sir,” I ask softly, “may I use my faced to clean your pits?” “Shit, boy,” Tiny said loudly, “there’s nothing better in the world than a sweet tiny muscle worshipper. Sure you can use your face. And after that it will be my pleasure to give you a special treat.” I almost came at that moment from the excitement and anticipation. I again had to stand on tiptoes to bury my face into his right pit. It hurt my nose as I hit his hard muscled skin, but I marveled at the fact that even his pit felt like stone, even forgetting the pain. I immediately began to lap up his pit hair with my tongue and lips. I quickly moved around the entire cavernous area. I even used the hair on my head to dry it off when I had completely licked it all. I then moved across his chest – a distance that felt like an entire county – to the other pit and did the same. My pre-cum had turned into a steady drizzle by this point. “Hurry up, boy,” he said expectantly, “I’ve got something else planned for you.” I pushed back from his body, pretty sad that I couldn’t continue to bury my entire face in his pit, but I was also very excited about whatever it was he was going to do to me. I stood there – in front of the giant – like a proud little boy. I was definitely ready for my prize. Tiny then grabbed me in his hands and easily carried me over to his bed, placing me back down on the ground. He then bent over and pressed a finger against one of the cinderblocks in the wall. It gave easily, because of his strength, and the big man reached into a secret compartment, pulling out a big bag of something that seemed like a dark liquid. He then grabbed a big cup-like container off of his desk and squeezed some of the gooey looking thick mass from the bag into the large opening. He lifted the blender-sized container in one hand and then wrapped his other hand around my neck, pulling my face into his huge right pec. “And now for the major ingredient!” he said, smiling broadly. With that, Tiny wrapped his fingers in my hair and pulled my head back, roughly. He brought his face down and pressed his lips against mine. He shoved his tongue down my throat and started sucking. It was, again, a mixture of pleasure and pain. He released my hair and lowered his arm around my waist. The suction of his mouth kept my face against his. Tiny then lifted my body into the air as he continued to kiss me with more eroticism than an army of over-sexed Italians. I was still amazed by how easy it was for him to lift my body with just one arm. His strength made me feel like such a weakling, but the security of his massive arm around my body quickly erased any bad feelings. He then slid his hand around my ass and lifted me higher. My mouth separated from his with a loud pop and he quickly guided my rock-hard cock to his waiting hot mouth. He sucked my prick in like some super-charged vacuum and then began to milk me like a pro. In between hurricane-like forceful sucks on my cock, he spoke from the side of his mouth. “Come on boy, give me your sweet cream,” he said quickly and then sucked again. “Even a puny ass like you has to have some – every man has some spunk.” Tiny then continued to suck me hard as he laughed out loud. He manhandled my body like I was nothing but some kind of rag doll. Right before he could feel that my body was going to shoot like a rocket, he pulled me away from his face and shoved my cock into the large container. I blew like a massive volcano that had been building up for centuries. My body bucked around in Tiny’s grip, but he held me in place as if I weighed only a few pounds. He squeezed my body tighter with his bulging arm, as if he hoped it would help me shoot more of my sweet juice into his giant cup. I continued to spew cum so hard that I worried organs might come blowing out my dick. I looked down – even as I continued to rock violently from the ejaculation – and saw that the big container was actually overflowing. “Damn, little man,” he said and then whistled, “look at you – shooting enough juice for your big giant and then some. I’ve never seen anyone fill my cup!” I was still flopping around in his arm, but I could tell my cock was no longer spitting out juice. It had begun to do something akin to dry heaves. Tiny must have noticed the same thing. He quickly used my hard cock to stir up the cum-concoction in his glass. He then easily tossed my body onto his bed and momentarily watched as my body continued to convulse on the mattress and my cock twitched back and forth hard. He then took a large swig of the juice and I was conscious enough to notice it left a milky-white coating on his mustache. “Shit, boy,” he exclaimed looking down at me, “you’ve got some sweet man-milk. It’s like a fucking cum shake. This stuff is going to make me grow more than ever before, little man – just you wait and see. You’re going to be ready to explode again in about five minutes when you see my body expanding like some kind of pornographic 3-D movie.” His words made my semi-resting body begin to flop around on the bed again as my cock shot painfully hard instantly.
    1 point
  17. I let the fags at the gym gawk, let them feel my ripped abs, vascular quads, thighs. Their eyes keep going to my bulge, then away, trying not to be obvious. I grab their hand and have them cup my cock and balls, their mouths drop open a bit wider. When I tell them to come back to my flat, I see a twinkle of giddieness in their eye. Excitement. 'This guy wants me to go... and... HOLY CRAP...' Back at my place, I'll slip on some competition briefs and start flexing. By this time their mind is exploding, eyes wide open, staring at me. I do some pushups to get my pump back. Flex some more, and by this time they're either touching themselves or touching me. I let myself get hard. The small posers becomming more and more stretched, hardly able to contain my huge cock. Shredded muscles, giant monster bulge, I'm getting really turned on now being worshiped by the little gym rat. I'll sling my posing briefs under my balls and let my huge fat cock get rock hard, sticking up past my navel. I let the fag take it all in for a minute before shoveing his mouth down on my cock. After they suck for a while, I start to see a look of concern grow on their face as they imagine the progression of things. They were focusing so intensly my bulging arms, huge ripped pecs, muscle ass, thick legs, they weren't too concerned with where this was all going, only living in the moment. Blowing me for 5 minutes, 10 minutes, gaging, choking on my cock head, it starts to sink in what's next. "Your cock's so huge. I've never seen one so big" "Yea, I've been told it feels really good..." "Oh", the fag says. I'll try to make him feel a little more at ease. "You've got a great body. The gym's really doin you right." I'll suck his rock hard boner for a while as he feels my muscles. Let him get lost in the fantasy again... until he hears the flip top of the lube pop open, and cold gel gets squirted on his ass. PANICK! "Don't worry, I'll go easy." I try to calm him, but it only goes so far. Every time I see my thick cock laying up next to some skinny twink's ass, I have to laugh to myself a bit. How could that possible even fit? I'm going to split this little bitch in two! I push slow but hard, it never goes in easy. Little gym fag is either deep breathing and trying to man up, starting to whimper, or just plain screaming.
    1 point
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