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Michael gazed in shocked awe as he watched the insanely loaded bar smoothly go down towards Saul’s mammoth chest and then swiftly back into the air as if it were nothing for the big man’s huge arms to lift it. Michael had never seen pectoral muscles so humongous – or so obviously packed with hard solid meat. Saul’s chest looked to be about four times as thick as his mid-section. Michael was pretty sure the elder man’s chest could stop almost anything speeding towards it. The numerous plates on the ends of the bar might as well have been the size of small cars. The bar bowed from the pressure. Michael had attempted to do the math in his head as Saul added weights on the bar, but it had become too much to keep up with. The enormous senior man didn’t seem to be struggling with the thing at all – as a matter of fact he seemed to be enjoying every second of the many reps he was effortlessly performing, as if he were trying to impress his new client. The younger, smaller man could not begin to fathom this kind of strength. “How many of me would equal what you are benching, Saul?” “Probably six or seven of you, Michael.” “No normal human is supposed to be able to lift that much. You must be from Mount Olympus.” “Well there aren’t many that can.” “Especially those at your age.” “Do I detect some ageism? Gray hair doesn’t mean feeble, Michael. It means years of building and years of getting stronger. Why can’t a man in his late fifties – soon to be sixty - be really strong?” “He can, Saul, I’m just saying it’s not normal. God, I think I would need a crane to move that thing.” “I’m second in my weight division for benching, but I’m first in many other competitions. You’ll see my name on about eight plaques over there on the wall. I love being strong. Lifting heavy things is a big turn on for me. I like to watch the young whipper-snappers freak out when they see this gray haired older man picking up something that boggles their mind and then lifting it over my head with no problem. And then when I do numerous repetitions it really sends them over the edge. Don’t know why it intimidates guys so much, but their reactions always get me very excited.” “I can see that. Your sweats don’t hide much, big man. As a matter of fact, you probably don’t have a piece of clothing that could even begin to hide any part of your hugeness. You could wear a quilt and still look huge.” “Yeah, when I lift I have a perpetual hard-on. I can’t help it. There’s just something about pushing all this iron up into the air that gets me going. It’s like moving mountains. I love the way it makes me feel so powerful. And then there’s the shocked gazes I get that add a lot to my pleasure. Lots of guys are into strength; you know . . . they just don’t admit it. When I lift I can immediately sense a strength whore within the entire gym. The clues are salivating, bug eyes, gaping mouths, and quick exits to bathroom stalls. But I’m not the only one sporting some wood. Your giant Redwood is paying homage to my lifting, too. Surely, that huge thing of yours is illegal in some parts of the world. In an effort to even up the score, I’ll say that no man is supposed to be swinging a bat the size of yours – especially a man as small as you. Speaking of cranes, young man – that thing looks like it could lift a lot!” “What can I say? I’m just a freak of nature. And there’s no way it could stay calm watching you lift so much weight.” “A freak, huh, just like me. But, really, I don’t consider either of us freaks. I’d say we’ve been blessed. And I’m definitely going to need you to share your blessing with me sometime. Now, I’ve lost count. What rep is this?” “I’m not sure, but I know you’ve pushed that over-loaded bar into the air more than fifty times and you’re not even sweating. You might as well be lifting the back of some small car.” “I can do that for you, if you want me to, Michael. It doesn’t even have to be a small car.” “Fuck, can you really?” “Yeah, I can. I can bench it or deadlift it, too. It’s your call. It would be my pleasure to show off for you. I usually get so excited when I do it I end up squirting a big load. There I am, holding the back of the car in the air and I’m shaking like I’m having some kind of seizure. It’s hot as hell. I get the feeling you’d have the same reaction. So, back to business before one of us has an accident - do you understand the concept of benching, now?” “Yes. How could I not given your demonstration? And I even remember that it’s good for the chest. Mainly because I see that your humongous chest has now swollen to the size of my queen size bed.” “Right. And now, let’s show you some one arm curls. We want to help you build hard biceps, like mine.” “That’s not possible, big guy. Your arms are bigger than my upper body.” “Maybe so, but we can still get them bigger. You go to that end of the weight rack. Grab the ones that are ten pounds. I’ll grab the ones over here that are one hundred. Okay, now keep your back straight, like this, while you bring up your hands – twisting a little at the end. You want to get a good pump.” Michael’s face went a little white when the hundred pound weights swung upward and Saul’s arms bulged. The younger man hadn’t been prepared for how gigantic the guns could actually swell. It was the most glorious sight that Michael had ever seen. The blood in his body all rushed to his massive rod and he became light headed. He blurted out the first thing that came into his head. “Oh hell, look at your arms popping out like blimps taking off from the ground. Those things are so huge!” “It’s one of the advantages of lifting such heavy things. I like the way big arms scream how strong a guy is, don’t you. Enormous biceps surrounded by super tight sleeves is like the best eye candy ever, isn’t it? I have an idea, put your weights down, Michael, and come stand behind me. Grab hold of my arms as I lift and you’ll feel what the biceps does when it’s curling. There’s no better way of learning than ‘hands-on’ activities.” “Won’t that look a little weird?” “Who cares? No one’s going to say anything. They all know I could toss them across the gym if I wanted to. Besides, most of the guys in this place would love to grab hold of my huge guns, themselves. I have dudes coming up to me all the time asking if they could feel my arms or would I please show off my strength by lifting them. You into being lifted, Michael?” “Hell yes, although no one’s ever picked me up into the air before.” “We’ll have to change that very soon. That’s it, get behind me. Now, reach up and grab my biceps.” “Holy hell, it’s like touching granite. That’s not skin, it’s stone!” “Wait until I lift the weight…” “Oh fuck! It swells up even bigger and ten times harder. Like I said before, you’re not normal. You gotta be a superhero or something.” “I can be a superhero for you, Michael. If that’s what you like. How about you call me your Thor, or, better yet, your Incredible Hulk.” “Except you won’t have to grow when you’re mad, Saul, because you’re already gigantic. How tall are you?” “Six seven and a half.” “Damn. And how much do you weigh?” “Three hundred and ninety pounds.” “That means you’re almost more than three of me, Saul! You’re more than twenty-five years older than me and, yet, you dwarf me in every way.” “Not every way, Michael. That thing between your legs would beat mine in a wrestling match. I think it could be two big men in a wrestling match. Why don’t you pull in a little closer to my body, bud, and let an old man feel that hard tool. Aw yeah, you’re short enough for that thing to fit perfectly up in my ass cheeks. That feels nice, Michael, real nice. The only thing that would feel better is if it were much deeper.” “Okay, Saul, quit squeezing your cheeks or we’re going to have an accident. The combination of that and your arms swelling up enormously hard is enough to do me in. I’m going to have to take a break.” “I think this is a good time to stop, anyway, Michael. I’d like to go get that coffee you offered and get to know you better. Who knows, you might even find me charming.” “Hugely charming, Saul . . . hugely charming.” Michael stepped away from the big man – giving his arms another quick squeeze before he did. The big man smiled and emitted an appreciative moan. Saul replaced the weights he’d been lifting with a loud thud that caused the entire rack to shake. The smaller man could not fathom being able to lift those things with one hand. He barely could lift a hundred pounds with both hands! He stared at the big man as Saul re-racked the ten-pound weights, too. The larger man noticed the look on his new friends face. “My size doesn’t intimidate you does it, Michael?” “Hell no! It turns me on as much as your strength does. It’s like being next to a giant.” “All my life I’ve been called a giant freak. I hit six feet when I was in seventh grade. I towered over most of my teachers. The size of my feet and hands made most of the grown men in my school insanely jealous. Most of the other kids were scared of me. I could have made the best bully, but I was just too nice. I liked befriending people – not harassing them. It wasn’t until I started fooling around with other boys in the ninth grade that I realized my size and power could make me popular. I had no idea other guy’s loved big, strong men so much. That year was the first time someone asked me to lift them. It was a friend of mine who had come over to spend the night. We were down in our basement and out of the blue he asked me to grab him by the armpits and lift him in to the air. I instantly shot rock hard. I also knew it would be easy as hell. He said he knew I could do it, because I was twice the size of him and he’d seen me lifting in the school gym. He didn’t weigh anything so I hoisted him effortlessly. I was actually quite surprised by how light he was. The dude came on the spot. There he was like a rag doll flopping around in my arms – with the biggest grin on his face I had ever seen. I held him in the air until he fully recovered and when I put him down on the ground, he just looked up at me and said thanks. We spent the rest of ninth grade and most of tenth with him trying to think of new ways for me to show off my strength and have him cum. We were both sad as hell when his parents announced they were moving. I looked him up about two years ago – he’s married now with four kids. That didn’t stop him, however, from taking me down to his basement and busting out a bunch of wads with me lifting him in new ways.” “Size and power turn me on more than anything, Saul. I’ve known a few strong guys in my life, but no one comes close to you. A guy showing off his power is the best foreplay ever. You’re like a wet dream come true for me. I’m afraid you’ve set the bar so high – not to mention with too much weight – that no one will ever come close to matching you. And, what about you? What gets your motor going?” “To be completely honest, Michael, I’m a true size queen - so the answer is easy. Giant cock. I’m the most powerful bottom you’ll ever meet and my bulges give a guy a lot to play with as he pounds me. My ass can milk a guy until he’s ready to pass out from exhaustion.” By this point the two men were in the locker room and Michael allowed his enormous hard rod to openly twitch back and forth in his sweats simply from what Saul was sharing. There was nothing Michael loved more in the world than an older muscled bottom. There was just something about plowing a muscled gray-haired man that made the younger guy feel more alive than ever. He was reveling in the fact that he had met Saul when the bigger man suddenly bent down and gave him a hard aggressive kiss on the lips, his tongue exploring Michael’s mouth like some kind of wild animal on sexual overdrive. Finally, the giant pulled away and Michael opened his eyes. “I just needed you to know how I felt.” “I can make it so you walk funny, tomorrow, big man. I know how to swing my giant bat like a pro. I’ve got the size and the skills. You’ll forget about every other man you’ve ever been with once you’re in the sack with me. I could make you the happiest giant on earth.” “You had me at ‘walk funny tomorrow.’ I have a feeling I can return the favor, Michael, by showing off my strength and muscles every chance I get. Let’s begin now by letting you see what made my friend in ninth grade so happy.” Saul slipped his hands under the arms of Michael and lifted him into the air as if he weighed no more than a jacket. Michael let out a soft whimper of approval and then cooed like a little baby. His massive cock was now pressing against his sweats like he had a bazooka stuffed down there. The big man held the other guy in the air for a while; just to emphasize his strength even more. Michael began to worry that he was going to shoot a big wad right there and then, but before that could happen, Saul placed him back on the ground. The big man had clearly gauged how much the younger one could take. He looked down at the shorter man. “It’s like you’ve got a third leg, little man. That is simply mind-blowing.” “My friends in high school used to call me ‘Tripod.’ I finally reached a point where I stopped trying to hide the huge thing. I always cause a big scene if I get turned on in public. Fathers actually cover their children’s eyes when they see me, but most of them don’t turn away.” “I have a feeling that massive things is going to open me up in ways I can’t even imagine, Michael.” “I promise I’ll be gentle . . . well, at first, anyway.” “I’ll take that coffee now, Michael. And then I’ll take a nice dinner. After that, I’m hoping you’ll offer me a hard plowing. And when we take breaks I can lift heavy things for you and let you grope hard muscle.”

Author's Note: here's another out of the archives -- this one from 2014 as well. A DIFFERENT FOUNTAIN OF YOUTH by Absman420 The texts began shortly before midnight, the buzz of his phone on the nightstand waking him, even in "sleep" mode. At first the old bodybuilder shrugged it off -- he had a fairly good idea who it was and what they wanted -- and they weren't ripe enough yet, anyway -- but when the dull banging began on the front door, he knew he could ignore it no longer. Dressed in only his flannel pajama bottoms -- cut off at the knee to expose his gigantic calves (he hadn't worn pants in over twenty-five years, he bragged) -- he walked down the carpeted stairs to the front door, his stark white hair almost glowing in the darkness. He was a large man. Even in the streams of moonlight coming through the curtains, it was easy to make out his imposing shape. He'd been a weight-lifter most of his life and carried a certain kind of thickness only sported by men who'd spent decades pounding iron -- and carried HIMSELF with the confidence of a man who'd had a superior body for decades. He'd be damned if he'd ruin that by getting old. When he suddenly turned on the outside light, the pounding abruptly stopped. "Who's there?" he growled at the door, even though he knew perfectly well who it was. "Daddy?" A weak, desperate sound. "Please. I can't stand it anymore. Please… they HURT!" The old bodybuilder opened the door, revealing the figure of a lean, young man bathed in the soft glow of the porch light. The boy was maybe 5'8"/ 5'9" about 160lbs, lean in a way that was characteristic of swimmers or long-distance runners, athletic but skinny. Somewhere in his early twenties, he probably shaved once a week, his tight, flawless skin making him look even younger. A tousle of ordinary brown hair that looked slept-on wrong topped a face that was less handsome than pretty. Sure, maybe someday it would mature into handsome, but right now it was the fresh-face of youth. Only his eyes had any fire, bright green and lively. He was dressed in sweat pants, flip flops and a tank top that exposed his lean arms -- he had an air of desperation about him. "Thank God," he said when the old bodybuilder opened the door. "I'm so sorry. I know you said to wait, but I can't stand it anymore! I can't stand it!" He collapsed on the old bodybuilder, hugging the old man's muscular torso, laying his head on the bodybuilder's massive pec. Sobbing, desperate. "I'm so sorry, Daddy! I tried to wait… but they HURT!" The old bodybuilder held the boy and stroked his head while he wept. Finally, he shut the front door and said, "It's okay, boy. The first time can be scary. C'mon inside and let's see what's going on." The boy allowed himself to be led to the living room. He babbled. "I mean, I've been horny as fuck, but I can't cum. I CAN'T CUM! It's driving me fucking crazy. I stroke and stroke… almost… almost… but it doesn't fucking happen. THEY HURT SO FUCKING MUCH!" "Lemme see," the old bodybuilder said, sitting on the hassock before the boy. "When was the last time you saw them?" the boy asked, hands on the waist of his sweatpants. "Three... four days ago? You complimented me on them…" The old bodybuilder smiled. "You have beautiful balls," he said. "Golden eggs!" "Well, they're a little bigger than that now," the boy said, lowering the sweats. Instead of his normal boxer shorts, the boy wore a runner's jock, the thin waist strap low on the pubis, barely atop the root of his cock. The pouch itself was stretched nearly to the point of giving way, stuffed full of the boy's swollen, avocado-sized balls. Between the pull of his nads and the squeeze of the pouch, the boy's cock was nearly hard, ready to bust its way out of the cotton fabric any second. "LOOK at them!" The old bodybuilder did look, and he couldn't help but lick his lips -- they were huge. "What's happening to me?" the boy asked. The old bodybuilder ignored him. "Beautiful," he mumbled, gently cupping the boy's sac in his hand, weighing it almost -- the boy gasped. "You sure you wanna cum? I think you could grow these a little more…" The boy may not've liked the idea, but his cock did -- it throbbed a bit in its cotton prison. "Aw, fuck no!" the boy moaned. "You don't understand. They ACHE… Please..." When the old bodybuilder rubbed the over-sized sac with his hand, the boy moaned loudly -- his cock got even harder, straining down the front of the pouch, the head clearly visible through the stretched fibers of the material. Holding the boy's balls in his hand, the old bodybuilder licked the material covering the boy's cock, soaking it in his spit. "Oh…. Daddy," the boy whimpered. "Please…" Guiding him by the hips, the old bodybuilder sat the boy on the hassock, sliding himself to his knees on the floor between the boy's legs. Slipping a couple of thick fingers beneath the band of the boy's jockstrap, the old bodybuilder released the boy's cock, but left his nads trapped in the pouch -- the elastic of the waistband slid up under the base of the boy's erection, tickling him. The boy's cock was significantly bigger than the last time the old bodybuilder had seen it, as well -- the boy probably hadn't realized it because his balls were so freakishly out of proportion. Their firmness and swollen fresh pinkness made them irresistible. The boy's cock stood nearly nine inches straight up, a tiny line of pre-cum stringing down to the root -- the old bodybuilder licked that up pretty quickly. Ambrosia. When he took the boy's cock in his mouth, just the flared head, he tasted another release of pre -- delicious, teasing. He played with the head for another few moments, hoping for more, then finally took the whole of the boy's cock in his mouth, burying his nose in the boy's neatly trimmed pubes. The boy grabbed either side of the hassock and leaned back, his abs catching the light from above them, highlighting his skinny-boy eight pack. His breath was already hitching, and the old bodybuilder wondered if the boy would even last ten minutes -- probably not. He'd clearly never gotten head before, not from the way he was reacting. The possibility of a virgin turned the old bodybuilder on even more and he set to work in earnest, bobbing his head up and down the boy's shaft squeaky smooth, making sure his thick white mustache tickled the boy, too -- the boy was a bubbling brook of pre-cum. The old bodybuilder would be sucking the flavor out of his white whiskers for days. Deftly, he pulled the jockstrap down and released the boy's smooth, swollen balls, cupping them in one hand until he'd pulled the strap completely off, then holding them reverently in both, stroking them and and gently pulling them down in counter-rhythm to his mouth. They were massive -- did he say avocados? Maybe he meant mangos… The boy was trying to find a balancing place between pain and pleasure -- he didn't know what to do with his hands, so he kept holding the hassock, although he'd felt an urge to pinch his own nipple. He didn't know why. The old bodybuilder rolled the boy's gigantic balls back and forth, then began running one hand up and down the back of them while the other cupped their base. He settled the moving hand at the top of the boy's sac, ran fingers up either side of the boy's taint, then began playing with the boy's tight hole, all the while sucking the boy's rock hard cock. The boy was panting now, thrusting his hips into the old bodybuilder's face. On the edge again, ready, so, so ready to blow his load. The old bodybuilder knew this and slipped his thick middle finger into the boy's hole, quickly finding the boy's prostate and pressing that button for all its worth. The boy released the sides of the hassock, grabbing the old bodybuilder's head and began to orgasm, pushing his cock deep into the old bodybuilder's throat. He didn't just moan -- he screamed. The old bodybuilder had tasted plenty of the boy's pre, but was surprised by the volume -- even HE didn't expect the boy to pack such a punch. Each of the boy's squirts nearly filled his mouth -- he had to time his swallows to match the boy's ejaculations. The boy came. And came. His orgasm lasted nearly two minutes, the most incredible, mind-blowing thing he'd ever felt. And the old bodybuilder swallowed it all, every drop, until his own belly was distended from the creamy ambrosia. But whether the old bodybuilder came or not, the boy didn't know -- he was so exhausted, he could barely focus. He passed out as his boy-cock still dribbled some remaining drops -- but don't worry, the old bodybuilder got those, too. When the boy finally awoke, the first thing he realized was that the sun was up -- it was morning. It must be hours later. He was lying in an unfamiliar bed. The next thing he realized was that his balls didn't ache anymore. Not at all. As a matter of fact, they felt totally normal. When he touched them, he found them more sensitive than they'd been -- but at least they were back to normal size. His cock, on the other hand, was definitely bigger than it had been. How about that -- the old bodybuilder had told him the truth… His rumination -- and masturbation -- was interrupted by the bedroom door opening. The boy pulled his hands away from his genitals, like he'd been caught doing something bad. "Good morning!" the bodybuilder in the doorway said, but it wasn't the man the boy remembered. The boy was sure the bodybuilder's hair had been stark white, with a matching white mustache -- but this man had hair that could only be described as "salt & pepper", even his mustache was mostly black. Something was different about his skin, too -- it was… tighter. It was the same guy, obviously the same guy, but he looked different. Younger. The boy didn't know why he'd described the guy as an old bodybuilder, when clearly, in the light of day, he was middle-aged -- maybe 45 on the out side. His eyes sparkled with mischief. "How do you feel?" he asked, his voice not quite as rough. "Really great, thank you." The boy smiled, softly rubbing his balls. "You weren't kidding about how powerful that would be. Wow." "Yeah?" the big man said, flexing his pecs. "You wanna go again?" The boy laughed, embarrassed. "I don't if I can go again right now…" he said, although his cock kind of liked the idea. The middle-aged bodybuilder chuckled. "No, I mean the peptides. Do you wanna do the injection again?" The boy realized what he meant, and self-consciously cupped his ball sac. "Will it… Will it feel like it did last night?" "Better if you let it… brew longer." The boy smiled -- he didn't even hesitate. "Let's do it." And that's how he found himself in the bodybuilder's kitchen, bent over the center island, as the middle-aged bodybuilder pulled a small vial from his refrigerator and filled the tiniest of insulin syringes. The boy knew from experience it wouldn't hurt, so when he felt the bodybuilder pinch the back of his balls, he got an erection right as the tip of the needle entered his sac. In a second, it was over. The boy slid his sweatpants on, stuffing the well-stretched jockstrap in his pocket. He could already feel the peptide working -- churning in his nuts. Damn, it felt good. The middle-aged bodybuilder smiled, his (mostly) black mustache contrasting his white teeth. "Let's see if you can go longer than three days this time," he said playfully, throwing one big arm around the boy's shoulders. They laughed and kissed awkwardly at the door, like friends, then the boy went his merry way. "I don't want to see you for at least a week," the bodybuilder said. "Seriously. You can do it." The boy blew him a silly kiss from his car. That evening, just after the bodybuilder had finished his workout and was thinking about something to eat, there came a dull pounding on his front door. He opened it to reveal a beautiful ginger boy, no more than eighteen, built like a wrestler or gymnast, big arms and no waist. He wore underarmor compression shorts which were stretched to the limit by his gigantic balls. It took both his hands to support their weight -- crazy unreal. "Ok, Coach" the ginger boy said, panting. "It's been two weeks. A record, you said. Now you gotta get me off. Please, they hurt so much -- they ACHE." The bodybuilder smiled, inadvertently licking his dark mustache. "You picked a good time," he said, drawing the boy inside, "I just finished working out and I'm STARVING…" He shut the door behind them. END

Catfished Custom story request from a supporter on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/MuscleNexus. I released it a while ago there, but I wanted to post it here for all of you as well. On Patreon there are little bonuses like illustrations/morphs to go with the story and lots of content that I don't post anywhere else. Thanks for reading! Tags: SFW, muscle growth, forced growth, getting hairy Rory swiped left. Again, and again, and again. “No, too old.” Swipe left. “No, too hairy.” Swipe left. “No, too much roids.” Swipe left. This was his nightly routine on tinder. Maybe once a week he found another man just like him: small, smooth, and slightly effeminate. But mostly he just said no to all the men that popped up on his app. “There are too many damn bears in this city,” he’d think angrily to himself before grabbing his average cock and settling in for another lonely night. ‘There’s no one new around you,’ declared Rory’s phone. He sighed dramatically, placed his phone on his coffee table and unzipped his skinny jeans. Before he even had a chance to fish out his semi-erect manhood one more face popped onto his screen. ‘Buck, 21 years old, only half a mile away.’ Rory sneered at the overly masculine name, but was intrigued. The man was everything Rory was into. Lean body with barely any muscle or athletic definition. No body hair, beard, or tattoos. And to top it all off, the man’s bio said ‘twinks to the top of the list.’ Rory swiped right. The match was instant. “Hey stud,” Buck messaged. Stud? Nobody had called Rory that before, but it didn’t matter, he was getting action tonight. “Hi. What’s up.” Rory replied. “This is it. Why don’t you come on over?” Normally Rory would’ve been put off by the man’s directness, but he was lonely and horny so he just said “sure.” *** Thirty minutes later Rory was standing in front of Buck’s apartment door. He was surprised to find that the clean cut man named Buck was living in a rougher part of town. His apartment building was old, not well maintained, and adjacent to a row of warehouses. Nevertheless, Rory was committed. Standing in front of the door he was irritated to smell cigarette smoke. “Wasn’t that illegal in most apartment buildings these days?” He smoothed his hair with his hands one more time and then knocked delicately on the door. Silence at first. Then he heard a creaking noise, what sounded like someone getting out of a squeaky couch or armchair. A few footsteps thudded from behind the door and then it opened. “Hullo little guy.” Buck grinned down at Rory. Rory stood stunned for a moment, taking in the site of the hairy behemoth that stood before him. Buck was short but exceptionally thick. Broad hairy shoulders sloped into a thick corded neck and a wide rugged face, partially obscured by a big but well groomed beard. Buck had a fat cigar sticking out of his mouth with a fragrant stream of smoke rising from it that Rory had mistook for cigarette smoke. Rory’s confusion turned to anger and quickly spat out “fucking catfish” and turned to leave. Buck gently but firmly grabbed the smaller man’s shoulder and turned him to face him again. He calmly blew a cloud of cigar smoke into his face. Rory grimaced in disgust and tried to turn away, but not before inhaling a lungful of the smoke. His eyes instantly watered and he became lightheaded. His thoughts slowed. “Where ya going little guy?” Buck said gruffly with a half smile. “I… I don’t know.” Rory concentrated, trying to remember. But his thoughts were slow and he suddenly felt safe with the big bear standing before him. “Wanna come in for a drink?” Rory nodded slowly and looked up pathetically at Buck. “Attaboy. Make yourself comfortable.” Rory stepped cautiously into the apartment. It was tidy and minimalistic. The furniture was large and comfy looking, clearly worn down by holding many big bodies over the years. He sank down quietly onto the couch. He heard a pop and a fizz and then Buck was holding a cold can of beer up to Rory’s hand. “Oh.” He said, almost apologetically. “I don’t drink beer.” Buck sucked on his cigar, letting the smoke fill up the room. “Give it a try, you might like it.” Rory looked at the open can in his hand, the label read ‘Lumberjacked, a Canadian beer by Nexus Brewery.’ He shrugged and sucked back the bubbly golden liquid. It warmed his innard and Rory instantly felt more at home on the big bear’s couch. “Like it?” Rory nodded shyly. He really did like it. It was sweet and bitter at the same time. Just like beer should be. But wait, he hated beer! Rory’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion until he breathed in another lungful of the heady cigar-laden air and took a sip of the Lumberjacked beer. Buck sat down on the big leather armchair opposite the couch, drinking his own beer and sucking on his cigar. He began talking about something. Rory wasn’t quite sure what, he was focused on the beer and an odd feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. He looked at the big man opposite him and realized he was suddenly feeling buzzed, maybe even a bit more than buzzed. Buck was wearing a loose tank top that showed off his oversized and hairy chest and arms. Rory’s gaze followed these down to the Buck’s shorts, which were made out of a sweatpants type material and clearly cut off at the knee. The big bear’s package was clearly visible, a fat cockhead outline betrayed his cut status. Almost as if on cue the bigger man adjusted his package and kept talking. Rory suddenly noticed a change in his own pants. His dick was pumping full of blood. The sensation of it radiated throughout the rest of his body. He gulped hard, suddenly feeling warm and heavy. “Wow, you finished that fast.” Buck said, motioning to the empty beer can almost hanging out of Rory’s hand. “Here I’ll get you another.” Another pop and fizz and there was another cold beer in his hand. “Thanks.” “Hey you ever think of growing a beard?” Rory blinked. “What? Oh. Me? No. I don’t like beards….” He trailed off thoughtfully, feeling his cock thickening unstoppably in his pants. “Well you’d look good with one,” Buck declared with a smirk. “You already got a pretty thick shadow man, just let it grow.” “No, I shaved before I came here.” Rory lifted a hand to rub his chin, it was covered in thick covering of stubble. “What?” Rory didn’t register the sound of the couch squeaking slightly under his weight, but Buck did. “You been working out man?” You’d look good with some beef on you.” “What…? No, gross.” Rory scoffed. But he suddenly found himself feeling constricted. His shirt was tight over his… Chest?! Rory felt the foreign muscle proudly jutting from his torso, it was hard and rippled sligthly as he moved his arm. He looked down at his arms and gasped with horror as he saw a couple of beefy hairy limbs in front of him. “What’s… What’s going on?” He groaned in pain and perhaps pleasure as his dick suddenly became uncomfortable tight in his skinny jeans. His cockhead was already peaking over his waistband. And it wasn’t just his cock, his quads, ass, and calves were also struggling to fit in the denim. Buck stood up to grab the younger man another beer. “You’re empty, here’s another one,” he thrust it into the confused man’s hand and grinned with approval as he immediately took a long sip. “Better get out of those jeans, doesn’t look like they fit anymore with all the beef you’ve put on recently.” “I… I’ve been working out.” Rory said to no one inparticular before heading to the bathroom, beer in hand. Rory began struggling to peel his pants off when he caught his reflection in his ear. His heartbeat began whooshing in his ears and he had the vague feeling that he was going to pass out or vomit. “What…?” He said, staring dumbly into the mirror. His jaw had squared into a dense meathead look that ensured he would never be totally taken seriously again. He motioned to run a hand across the new short beard that covered it and gulped as he saw his new giant hairy hands and gorilla forearms. A burst of pain from his all too tight pants captured Rory’s attention again. He looked at his new oversized bodybuilder arms, still piling on mass before his eyes. He gripped his jeans with his meaty paws and began to tug. With less effort than he imagined it would take he ripped the pants and freed his mighty, hairy legs and beer can cock which swung down with heavy appreciation. “Unfff,” he sighed in relief. Rory looked down at himself apprehensively. But as he inspected his thick furred chest, broad cannonball shoulders (also with a substantial dusting of hair), and impossibly meaty cock his apprehension turned to blind acceptance. ‘I’m a muscle bear he thought,” rubbing his thick beard with his calloused sausage fingers. The only clothing left on him unshredded was his socks, which were straining over a pair of enormous hairy daddy feet. They made a quiet thud as he paced around the bathroom. Inevitably his thoughts turned to the piece of meat sticking up from his groin. A slow dribble of precum perpetually dribbled from its tip expectantly. Rory grasped it with his hairy mitt and began stroking it. In that moment all that was Rory - the small effeminate man that would’ve been repulsed by the naked hairy bodybuilder in the bathroom animalistically stroking his cock - was replaced. He suddenly had an idea and stopped stroking. Buck would do that for him. He opened the bathroom door and stepped into his new life.

Part One "Yeah, come on, coach, you've got this in the bag!" James was not the only one cheering at the small, but powerfully built men on stage in the over 60's class of his local bodybuilding contest, but he was certainly the loudest, and with good reason. His coach, Larry, was almost certain to win his fifth regional title in as many years and as he finished off his routine with a most muscular that defied his size, he smiled, bowed to the audience and strode off back stage where his student picked him up and grunted "You may only be ten stone, but this is how much I want to congratulate you!" As he placed Larry on the ground a few seconds later, Larry just smiled and said "Remember, this time last year you couldn't even pick me up, but I thank you. It's nice to get some positive feedback from a student" and with that they went off to prepare Larry for the presentation. Larry and James really couldn't have been more different if they tried. Larry was 69 years old, had been training since his 14th birthday and although only standing 5ft 2 tall and weighing 138lbs, his 38½ inch chest, 33½ inch waist, 13 inch biceps, 21 inch quads and 14½ inch calves looked hewn from granite. James, on the other hand, was not only ten inches taller, but worlds apart. He weighed 220lbs, but with a 46 inch chest, 45 in waist, 13 inch biceps, 23 inch quads and 14½ inch calves, it was obvious that he had a long way to go to match his coach, but that did not dampen his enthusiasm for his coach and what he lacked in muscle, he more than made up for in cleverness. Indeed, it was his idea to create a social media account for his coach's bodybuilding exploits, accounts which were regularly shared by the stars of bodybuilding although James made quite sure that everyone realised that Larry's muscle development was following the "PHS method" of training which Larry explained as the "Porthos, Hercules and Samson" method of training until he couldn't do anymore and without any drugs whatsoever. That evening as the two drove home, James nursing the trophy like a baby, he looked at it and said "Larry, did you really mean what you said last year when I joined your gym. That in the space of three years I could win one of these myself!" Larry chuckled "Of course I did, I mean look at your progress. Your bench, squat and deadlift have increased exponentially from nothing to 104lbs, 94lbs and 84lbs respectively, you can pick me up for at least thirty seconds when you couldn't managed it before, and might I note that you've become more confident as well" and with that smiled at him. "Yes" smiled James, "my naked posing sessions after we train" and with that added, "I can't help myself, I say. After I train I feel, well, like, like the biggest and strongest man in the world, I want to rip off my posing suit and flex, flex, flex" "Tell you what then" smiled Larry, "special treat this evening. Before I tuck into my post contest ice cream, we'll pose down together, naked, and you can show me what poses I should do for my next guest posing session next weekend, Deal?" "Deal!" nodded James, frantically.

"Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty." The barbell, loaded with over 1000 pounds of iron, crashed to the rack. Krishna sat up, rolling his gigantic naked pecs in the mirror. Fuck, he was so perfect. Shoulders wider than two fully-grown men. Pecs that jutted nearly a foot from his ribcage. Abs that would make a pretty boy supermodel green with envy. And god damn, he was handsome. With his deep, dark, powerful eyes, seductively sensuous full lips, and blindingly straight-white smile, Krishna's face looked more suitable for a professional model than a professional bodybuilder. Krishna pulled down his shorts so his flawless body was covered only by a tiny bikini. It would have been ample covering for a normal man, but Krishna's prodigious endowment was so huge, it was practically spilling out. Standing up to his full height, Krishna marvelled at how small everything around him was. At 7'2, he towered over other bodybuilders. Most of them were eye level with his nipples - even the tallest had to crane their necks up to make eye contact. Krishna would be attending his first Mr. Olympia competition next week, but he knew would win. The other competitors weren't even in the same league as him. They dieted and trained for years, pushing their bodies to the limit to become as huge and hard and ripped as possible. But for the 18-year-old muscleboy, it seemed like new muscles blossomed on his gorgeous body every day. Krishna was starting to get aroused, his cock expanding and pushing away his desperately undersized bikini away from his body. In seconds, the garment snapped open, allowing Krishna's giant phallus to rise to his pecs, a thick trail of cum dribbling from its head. The girthy organ looked even more huge when contrasted with Krishna's tiny waist - he was as thin as a supermodel, and never seemed to gain fat no matter how much he ate. Krishna left the gym to go to the outside pool. Nobody was around yet. It was only 6am, and the only other people who came this early were the gym staff. He dived into the pool and swam twenty laps easily, stretching his huge, pumped muscles. He stopped, then looked over to see three couples staring at him. They looked like college kids, based on their fraternity and sorority clothes. Each women was absolutely beautiful - cheerleader types, with massive racks and tiny waists. The men were muscular and good-looking. Each one had his eyes glued to the teen's incredible body - Krishna smirked when he realized that they all were sporting huge boners, with growing wet spots on each of their gym shorts. Krishna swam over to the group, his hard muscles cutting through the water like knives through butter. His naked dick had shrunk in the pool water, but he was hard and horny as hell, and seeing these beautiful women was giving him an erection that normal people couldn't even dream of. Krishna smirked as he got closer, seeing that the women each had their eyes glued to his cock. They weren't sure if it was a trick of the water, but it looked massive. Krishna climbed halfway out of the pool, slowly, allowing the streams of water to travel through the crevices of his enormous muscles. The first woman, Nina, gasped as she gazed upon Krishna's unflexed arms. Her boyfriend was Ryan, a musclebound jock who was both a football and wrestling star, as well as an amateur bodybuilder. Krishna noticed Nina's reaction, and casually, as if he was yawning, stretched his arms behind his head. The backs of his arms formed half-moons, the hulking triceps themselves larger than any of the musclemen's quads. Then, suddenly, Krishna flexed, basketball-sized biceps erupting like cannons from his arms. Nina's eyes rolled up in her head, and she instantly came, falling to the ground, limbs flailing wildly as juice gushed from her pussy. Krishna stepped out of the pool, revealing his full body for the first time. The other two women gasped, amazed at his height and, more importantly, his cock! Krishna walked up to Lamar, the second guy. Lamar was the university's basketball star, and besides being 6'7 he was also gifted with a foot-long erection that drove his girlfriend Carmen wild. But his dick - even at full mast, as it currently was - looked childishly small next to Krishna's flaccid pussy-destroyer. Lamar looked up. He had never done that before - he spent his entire life looking down at his peers, and now that he was confronted by this incredibly muscular, incredibly well-hung nude giant, he was scared. But also strangely turned on. He had always been straight, and had fucked dozens of girls throughout high school and college. But right now, the only thing he could think of was how beautiful, how superior, how perfect this man was. Krishna looked down, and Lamar's and Carmen's gazes followed. The basketball star's dick had grown so long, it cleared the bottom of his gym shorts. Lamar was getting dizzy - he had never had so much blood drain to his cock before, never had he been so aroused in his life. But then he looked at Krishna's cock, and gasped. Although Krishna's height meant that his cock began a few inches higher than Lamar's, the head of his cock cleared Lamar's own amazing erection by almost half a foot! In total, Krishna's dick must have been nine or ten inches longer than Lamar's own erection! But then they noticed Krishna's dick extending. At first they was confused, until it hit them - Krishna still wasn't at full erection yet. This musclebound, gigantic, model-handsome teenager was so big.. so huge... so impossibly hung... that he was nearly two feet long... and still... growing... The couple both passed out, erupting in orgasm and hitting the ground cold. They joined Nina on the floor, her limbs in a mess, he snatch busted wide open with vaginal juices. She wasn't breathing, and soon, Carmen and Lamar wouldn't be either. Krishna turned to the last couple, Lisa and Tony. Tony wasn't as accomplished an athlete as his friends, preferring to go surfing than competing in sports. But what he lacked in athleticism he made up for in good looks. With blue eyes, blond hair, and an All-American smile, the handsome frat jock found it easy to sleep with any girl he wanted. Lisa valued a beautiful smile more than anything else. But Krishna was so much more beautiful than anyone else she had ever looked at. Even ignoring his flawless body, his face - photoshop-perfect skin and angelic lips, with deep brown eyes so beautiful that you could get lost in them - was so erotic that she felt that she was on the verge of orgasm just looking at it. Her boyfriend Tony, her favorite movie stars, those hot guys in Playgirl - none of them even rivaled Krishna's divine beauty. Krishna walked up to woman. His heavenly lips spread open, and he said "Hello." Lisa orgasmed. Such a voice. Such a incredible, sexy, erotic, earth-shaking, deep, booming bass voice. His voice was so powerful, the tree leaves vibrated and the water rippled at its sound. A light bulb shattered. Krishna turned away from the woman's breathless body and flashed the two standing men a naughty smile. "He's gorgeous," Tony whispered to himself. "Drop-dead gorgeous... literally." Krishna lifted Ryan and, tenderly, placed him on his cock. The musclebound jock - a lifelong heterosexual and a dominant alpha male - didn't even resist as his ass was split in half, his pelvis cracking like a pretzel, to allow entry for the superhuman sex organ. Krishna slowly began fucking. At first it was pleasurable, as his virgin ass experienced the giant teenage cock thrust in and out, a few inches at a time. But slowly Krishna went deeper, his two-foot-long dick going farther and farther into Ryan's body, pushing aside organs, rupturing muscles, shattering bones. Ryan cried out in pain, cried out for Tony to help him, but Tony could do nothing but watch, dick in hand, as his best friend got torn apart by the world's largest penis. Suddenly, Ryan felt an inhuman crushing grip on his right thigh, followed by a sudden, impossible pain as the muscular limb was ripped out like tissue paper. Ryan let out a blood-curdling scream as Krishna casually crushed the human leg in his grip, savoring the sound of sinew and bone crumbling to mush inside his guillotine grip strength. Soon, the pain was followed by the same sensation in Ryan's left leg. Then, both of his arms. Now Ryan was just a torso and a head, a human condom with four red bloody stumps, a decoration for the largest and most powerful dick the world had ever seen. Krishna wagged his dick up and down, and laughed as Ryan's head flopped around like a ragdoll. Tony wasn't able to resist anymore. He needed to feel that body, those perfect teenage muscles. Tony put his hands on Krishna's waist, marvelling at how tiny it was, how something so small could be capable of supporting such a gigantic chest and such a broad back. Krishna smirked, knowing that Tony was under his control. "You like this?" he asked softly, his beautiful, seductive deep voice overwhelming Tony's ears. The blond model could only moan in affirmation. Krishna lifted Tony, being careful not to break the college boy by squeezing too hard, and gently kissed him. Ton kissed back, harder than he ever had in his life. But Tony tried to let go, he found that he couldn't he couldn't. Krishna held him in his grasp. Tony thought he was going to die of suffocation, but suddenly, Krishna started inhaling. Tony panicked, feeling air getting slowly pulled out of his lungs. Krishna continued inhaling for nearly twenty minutes, until suddenly Tony's heart flattened like a pancake and unloaded his jittery seed. Krishna roared at the feeling of Tony's death in his hands - killing a man, literally just by kissing him - and unleashed his own load, hundreds of times more volumous and powerful than Tony's own. The cum-explosion shot Ryan's carcass off his cock like a rocket, shooting over fifty feet in the air before landing in the far distance. Krishna smirked, then wiped away the blood and shit Ryan's ass had left on his enormous cock. He dived back into the pool to cleanse his flesh of the grime these pathetic men always left on his perfect body.

NOTE: THIS STORY IS GONNA' BE VIOLENT. STOP NOW IF THAT TURNS YOU OFF. When Krishna was a child, he was, for the most part, normal. He always had an unnaturally beautiful face, one that could go on the cover of a magazine without any Photoshop. And he always was strong for his size, and loved playing rough. But nobody could have expected him to become the monster he is today. Once he hit puberty, Krishna’s growth skyrocketed past all human records. Krishna's metabolism was flawless - he never seemed to lose his pump, instead growing bigger and stronger after every workout. His body reacted explosively to even the slightest exertion, pumping up as huge and hard in fifteen minutes as a normal athlete would in an hour. He would eat at least eight times a day - a full meal every two hours - but only seemed to gain muscle, never fat. He could eat ten buckets of Blue Bell and still be as lean and ripped as Mr. Olympia. His heart pumped with enough force to kill an elephant, and his senses were so developed that he could see an ant and hear its footsteps from twenty feet away. His body naturally produced and utilized ten times more growth hormone than an average Olympic gold medalist. But despite experiencing a hyper-puberty that pumped his muscles with enough testosterone to swamp a high school locker room, Krishna never experienced any of the downsides of adolescence. His face seemed to evolve almost overnight from the sweet, effeminate innocence of a child to the seductive, masculine eroticism of an adult. He never once experienced a single pimple or an awkward voice crack. His voice dropped almost instantaneously into a deep, sexual rumble that made Barry White sound like a pipsqueak. His earth-shaking tones were so powerful that he gave straight men boners just by saying his name. He could hardly go through a day at school without giving at least one teacher a standing orgasm. By the time Krishna was a sophomore in high school, he had the body of Mr. Olympia and strength that surpassed any powerlifter. He destroyed the competition on the football field and the wrestling mat. He could shoot with perfect accuracy from anywhere on the basketball court. He ran cross-country with speed that would make Usain Bolt green with envy. And there was a genius brain behind that pretty face with a hunky body - by the end of his freshman year Krishna had already earned a perfect score on the SAT. His brain created neural connections so fast that he could read through entire graduate-level textbooks in a single afternoon. Krishna first learned of his love for violence when he was 15 years old. He was playing a game of football when he saw the kid. There was something about him Krishna hated - maybe it was his ugly smirk, or his nasally voice, or his obnoxious strut. But whatever it was, Krishna decided that he wanted to take the faggot down. He made it look like an accident. Krishna ran straight into him - a tackle so forceful that the man's spine, ribcage, and skull cracked. The boy hit the ground, breathless. After that, it was decided that Krisnha was too dangerous for sports. But Krishna discovered that killing that kid was way more fun than playing football. Later that night, Krishna went to his neighbor's house, an old pervert that was always ogling the hot young teen. Krishna showed up at the door wearing nothing more than a pair of black briefs, which were stressed and strained to the max by the boy's enormous manhood. The homo dropped to his knees, his eyes so wide that they might have popped out, his heart beating so loud that Krishna could actually hear it. The man rubbed his small, weak hands all over Krishna's quads and calves and ass, unable to believe such perfect musculature existed, unable to believe this was really happening, unable to believe that the hottest man in his sad little closeted gay life was standing right in front of him. Krishna pulled out his jawbreaking penis and shoved it in the man's inadequately sized mouth, tearing apart the sides of his lips and dislocating his fragile jaw. When Krishna was done facefucking him, the man was nothing more than a bloody stain on the dirty carpet. Krishna started sneaking out to the city after his parents fell asleep. He would find some skinny boy in an isolated part of the local college campus. Krishna would lead the poor sucker into a dark alley and give him a kiss with his full juicy lips. The guy would be so turned on, never having experienced such an amazing kiss in his boring suburban life, and he would cream his pants with his pitiful seed. Then Krishna would give the closet case a hug, and the poor sap would cream himself again, never imagining that he could ever be surrounded by so much dark,powerful, manly teenage muscle. But then he would squeal and beg for Krishna to let go. But Krishna wouldn't. He would keep tightening and tightening his death hug until the boy chest caved in and his spine shattered. Sometimes Krishna found a couple making out in the corner of a deserted parking lot. Krishna would make eye contact with the male, and the man's erection would grow bigger and harder than any woman could ever make him grow. Then Krishna would grab the woman and fuck her like a jackhammer as her boyfriend watched, his sex so mind-blowing that each and every thrust bringing forth a new orgasm from both the man and woman. Krishna's stamina was so great that he could fuck for hours without stopping. Eventually, the man's heart would give out, unable to handle so much sexual pleasure, and the woman's body would simply fall apart under Krishna's pussy-destroying cock. Once, a cop stepped in on one of Krishna's kills. Krishna started walking towards the cop, and the cop, panicking, drew a gun and emptied his barrel. Krishna dodged the bullets without even looking at them, his lightning-fast reflexes making the superhuman task easy for his overdeveloped body. When he was in arm's reach of the officer, he grabbed the officer by the head and crotch and forced the man’s skull backwards. The officer screamed as his spine cracked and his abs ruptured, Krishna forcing the head back further and further until his torso was bent in half and his head was shoved inside his ass. Then Krishna grabbed the man's arms and legs and ripped them off - Krishna's arms were so strong that the man's muscles and bones tore apart like paper in his hands. Krishna left the man to die - he didn't know whether he would die of blood loss or suffocation first, and he didn't care. The death of the officer was discovered the next day, and the headlines shocked the country. People were horrified of the photo of a muscular, middle-aged cop bent in half, head-in-ass, limbless and bleeding. When Krishna saw that photo, he masturbated to it for six hours. Krishna's career began when he was working out at a gym one day. A bald, tall man approached him. He was nearly as tall as Krishna himself, and would have looked muscular had he been standing next to anybody else. “Hey kid. You a bodybuilder? Powerlifter, maybe?” Krishna looked over at him. He had a confident smile on his face, despite the raging boner in his perfectly ironed dress pants and his nervously shaking hands. Krishna casually bounced his pecs, and chuckled at the way the man's dick jumped with them. “Why do you want to know?” The man strategically adjusted his hands to cover the growing wet spot at his crotch. “I'm an agent for bodybuilders and powerlifters. You're the most promising young man I've ever seen. I can provide you with tons of sponsors. Normally, getting to Mr. Olympia is a lifelong endeavor, but with a body like yours, I'm sure we can…” “Not interested.” Krishna interrupted. “I'm not interested in fame.” As Krishna walked away, the man frantically chased after him, an obvious trail of jism spurting from his pant legs. “Wait! It's not just fame. It's money too! Our sponsors can provide you with food, clothing. You'll be able to grow bigger, stronger. You'll be able to destroy your competition on stage in front of a huge audience. We'll give you all the…” “Destroy.” Krishna growled. The man stopped, practically holding his dick now, trying to stop himself from coming as he took in Krishna's impossibly beautiful body and sonorous, sexual voice. “Destroying the competition… I like the sound of that.” The man nodded vigorously. Now he was frothing at the mouth, his hips bucking, gargling incomprehensibly. “Give me your company's number. Write it down right here - I'll call them later.” The man grabbed the pen and erratically wrote the number down. The handwriting was barely legible, but Krishna was able to make it out. The man pounced on Krishna's relaxed arm, which hung lazily down his side. “Please,” the agent mumbled his last words, “flex it for me.” Krishna smiled, and slowly brought his arm to a horizontal. Then, with a casual flex and a sudden BOOM, the man died, his hands tightly grasping Krishna's literally heart-stopping bicep as he shot seed all over himself. Krishna soon made a name for himself when he broke every major weightlifting record ever set. He could bench and squat over a ton without assistance, for reps. He used weight for one-armed bicep curls that champions used for deadlifts. He became known as “The Last Lifter” because nobody else could ever hope to break a lifting record ever again. There were accusations of steroids, but doctors found nothing but natural teenage hormones flowing through Krishna's bloodstream. When Krishna stepped on the Mr. Olympia stage at 18 years old, he didn't even look like he was the same species as the competition. He stood over a foot and a half taller than the average competitor, with wasplike proportions - his powerful shoulders twice as wide as the biggest competitor, his miniscule waist narrow as a female supermodel. His muscles were unfathomable, so massive and monstrous individually yet so balanced and beautiful in unison. Every single man on stage had the largest erection they had ever experienced in their lives, yet their manhood was still dwarfed by the teen’s mouth-watering flaccidity. One of the judges had a heart attack. The others forgot where they were, so amazed were they by Krishna's unprecedented routine, bedazzled by his gloriously flexing biceps, his shirt-tearing triceps, his eye-popping chest, his tree-like quads. One of the competitors started crying halfway through, and soon, they all were. They weren't just crying that they lost the competition. They were crying that they would never be able to win. Crying that their bodies had no chance of attaining Krishna's size and power and perfection. Crying that not even the strongest performance-enhancing drugs could give them Krishna's body. Crying that their children and their children's children would still look like twigs compared to Krishna. They were crying from Krishna's beauty, his handsome face, his perfect smile, his flawless lips, his gorgeous eyes. Then they came, one by one, an entire stage of full-grown alpha males from around the world cumming at the sight and smell and thought of a single teenage boy, only barely legal but stronger and hotter than every one of them put together. Krishna took his trophy graciously and left the room, walking through a sticky mess of cum and jizz and pussyjuice covering the dead and dying bodies spasming across the floor.

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.

Author's Note: I wrote this story in 2017 -- a little muscle-growth, a little mind-control, and some gear fetish -- my usual tropes. Enjoy THE LUCKY JOCKSTRAP By absman420 “Gentlemen, it’s the last game of the season and you know what that means….” The boys did. Collectively eager sighs all around. Some of them murmured “lucky jockstrap” under their breath, hoping it would be them this year. Toby sat on the bench in front of his locker, shaking his head slightly -- he’d heard the rumors, but he thought they were ridiculous. There was no possible way… The Coach chuckled, his thick, muscular frame flexing as he leaned against the row of lockers. “That’s right,” he said, adjusting his own package as he spoke. “One of you boys is getting the chance of a lifetime! And with all the scouts out there looking at Goldy, you might get a free ride someplace yourself!” All of them -- Toby included -- glanced at Robbie Goldman, who was already dressed in his jockstrap and hip pads, slowly sliding his game pants up his muscular thighs. He was fucking gorgeous, built and handsome, his self-confidence radiating with the kind of casualness only possessed by the kind of guys who’d never suffered, who’d never known opposition, who’d never even had a zit. Toby hated the mother-fucker, the big muscles, the movie-star looks, the big cock that he showed off with pride in the shower. It just wasn’t fair. When he noticed them all looking, Goldy flexed his abs hard, all the grooved lines leading the eye to his big jock bulge. He winked and blew them a kiss. Most of the boys laughed -- not Toby. The Coach still had a smirk on his face -- he looked at Goldy like the boy could do no wrong. He was so obvious about it. “So suit up, boys!” he said, righting his stance to be on both feet. “One of you is about to have a helluva game!” Stuff and nonsense, Toby thought as the Coach left the locker room, glad-handing boys on the back and laughing with them. The pre-game excitement was nothing compared to the speculation over who would win the Lucky Jockstrap. “I think it’s bullshit,” said Eddie Brannigan at the locker next to Toby as he slid off his boxer shorts. “Agreed,” said Toby, pulling off his school shirt and stuffing it in his locker. “What chance would we have of winning, anyway, even if it WAS real?” Eddie bitched, picking the new, clean jockstrap left in his locker and examining it before his slid it on. “They’d just give it to one of the starters, the popular fuckers…” “Probably that douchebag Goldman already has it on,” Toby said, taking the jockstrap left for him off the hook in his locker. And then, as if he’d heard them, Robbie Goldman was standing right next to them, in his game pants and the t-shirt he wore under his pads, ripped to expose his entire, glorious core. “Did I just hear my name?” he asked, ever flexing. He saw the jockstrap in Toby’s hand and nodded toward it. “Think that might be the lucky one?” Toby barked a laugh. “Well, why not? Could be anybody.” “My guess would be you,” Toby said, pulling the jockstrap on and adjusting himself in it. “Coach has a fucking hard-on for you, anyway. Why not give your Gold Star some magical, Lucky Jockstrap?” Instead of taking his bait, Goldy shrugged -- his attitude dripped of the kind of casualness only produced by the most arrogant. “Cuz I won it last year,” he said, making his way back to his locker, “and I doubt I’d get it two years in a row. Like you could improve on this.” He motioned to his crotch. “Good luck, bitches.” With that, he grabbed his shoulder pads and jersey and headed toward the training room, muscular poetry in motion. “‘Like you could improve on this,’” Eddie mumbled under his breath as he belted his game pants. “I hate that fucker,” Toby said, stepping into his own pads. “I swear to God, I wish there WERE some kind of magic jockstrap that could make me big enough to pop that pretty-boy ass-wipe upside the head! I would fucking love that!” As he pulled his pants up and belted them, he didn’t notice his jockstrap feeling any different than any other jockstrap he’d worn in his life. He laughed to himself -- magic jockstraps! Obviously, the Coach was doing some weird, motivational thing with the team on this, the last game of the season. Maybe if they thought they were wearing a magic jock, they’d play harder or something. It was obviously a joke that had become an urban legend, thought Toby. Or maybe it was some elaborate prank on the New Kid in School -- he wouldn’t put it past this bunch of assholes. Even as a senior, maybe because he was a senior, nobody had made this new school feel like home to him -- they were all busy looking forward to college -- they didn’t have time. Toby looked forward to college, too. Sure, it meant starting over -- again! -- but this time, it wouldn’t be just him. EVERYBODY was a naive freshman. And he’d already gotten early acceptance to his Ivy-League favorite, so it wasn’t like he was worried. Just gotta get through senior year, shitty as it might be. He and Eddie grabbed their shoulder pads and headed their skinny asses to the training room along with the other boys -- all of them secretly wishing they were wearing the Lucky Jockstrap, whether they believed it was true or not. *********************************************** Things started getting weird for Toby during the very first play of the game -- the freakin’ punt return! He was a third -- or fourth -- string receiver, which automatically put him on special teams. He and Eddie were deep in the back and though the punt was clearly headed in Eddie’s direction, he didn’t signal a fair catch -- it was almost like he didn’t see the ball at all. Toby watched the ball smack Eddie clearly in the facemask, where it bounced clumsily toward him. Surprising himself, Toby caught the ball before it hit the ground and with a little twist, started running toward the opposite goal. He felt really good, easily going fifteen yards before meeting the defense -- this would be one his best return stats ever! Then, to his surprise, he passed the defenders like they weren’t even there. It seemed odd to him that such big guys moved so slowly -- he dodged them easily, almost reading their bodies and feeling their moves before they made them. He was open-running now, striding like a gazelle, feeling the strength of his hamstrings and glutes -- he felt so open and free, light and powerful. He could feel a defender approaching him from the rear, so like a rabbit, he changed his trajectory. The boy following him fell to the ground empty-handed just as Toby crossed the goal-line. Touchdown. He’d just scored a touchdown. He couldn’t believe it -- he wasn’t even breathing hard. He’d just scored a touchdown on the first freakin’ punt-return of the game! Maybe he was wearing the Lucky Jockstrap. And before he had time to laugh at his own thought, his team was upon him, cheering and smacking his helmet and his ass. “Where you been hiding those moves?” “Fuckin’ made them look like chumps!” “It’s gotta be the jockstrap!” That made someone laugh in the way of high school boys and fart jokes. “Yeah,” someone repeated. “Gotta be the jockstrap!” Then they all started in, laughing and picking at his ass. Toby, who’d never been the center of good-natured intention before, was flying high, though his own innate cynicism kept trying to rear its ugly head. He really wanted to believe that there might be some Lucky Jockstrap -- and that for some reason, HE’D been lucky enough to get it. He’d gotten the tiniest bit of wood at the thought -- his dick plumped up a little anyway -- but he kind of liked the way it felt, so it didn’t bother him. It made him feel kind of alpha male. Even the Coach patted his ass. “Good job, Toby. How’d that feel?” Toby laughed. “Surprisingly easy,” he said. “When can I go out again?” “I like your hunger,” the Coach said, “but I’m saving you. I got plans for you later.” With that, the Coach was back in the game, yelling as their punter kicked the point after. For the rest of the game, Toby wondered if he was the one. Other players were having good games, too. But every time Toby found himself on the field, he moved with strength and ease and an awareness of his body in space that he’d never felt before. He’d always been a nerd who played football because his dad made him, but now, in his last game of his senior year, he was finding a love for the game he’d never had before. And his jockstrap -- lucky or not -- felt great on his half-hard dick. It came down to the last play of the game. They were behind by a field-goal, but it was fourth down and too far to kick. Hail Mary. Coach put Toby in -- hell, ALL the receivers were in. “I need you to run, boy,” he said, as Toby, with a strange sense of confidence, trotted out to the huddle. The snap -- everybody went in motion. Like before, Toby suddenly felt like he was the only one moving in real time -- all the other players seemed to be moving slowly. It took no effort to dodge them, pass them, leave them behind. And then the strangest sensation of all -- he became aware of the ball, descending above and behind him -- he could feel its arc. And even with defenders on his tail and others crowding the endzone, Toby knew the exact right moment to break his run and leap, turning just enough for Goldy’s pass to land perfectly in his arms, like he knew it would -- right on the numbers. Picture perfect. He came down in the endzone -- touchdown! First and last touchdowns of the game, he laughed to himself. That’s when he knew he had the Lucky Jockstrap. Toby, a mediocre player at best, just scored the game-winning touchdown on the last game of his senior year -- if that wasn’t the definition of Lucky Jockstrap, he didn’t know what was! Why wouldn’t he get a hard on? His teammates were upon him, cheering and smacking him and lifting him off the ground. He even had this strange moment when Goldy ran up to him, hugging him close. “You caught it” he yelled happily. “You fucking caught that pass like you knew it was there!” “I did!” Toby replied, just as giddy. “I could feel it!” Goldy started banging their helmeted heads together. “You got the jock!” he yelled, and Toby could feel the start of Goldy’s erection pressing into his own. It was a fucking moment. The cheers and horseplay followed him all the way to the locker room -- the energy of the win had the boys at a fever pitch. Eddie danced around him like a puppy off the leash! “That was fuckin’ amazing! You were fuckin’ amazing! Gotta be the jock!” Toby had barely gotten his shoulder pads off when the Coach yelled, “Toby!” from his office door. “Toby,” he bass rumbled, an ear-to-ear smile, “get your ass in here!” A big, jealous grin from Eddie started him off. The boys cat-called him and slapped his ass as he made his way down the aisle toward the coach’s office -- it was the first time he ever felt part of the team! He was lucky -- jockstrap or not. The Coach closed the door behind them, cutting off most of the noise from the locker room -- he sat his muscular form on the edge of his desk, looking at Toby with a smile on his face. Toby stood there in his game pants and the sweaty t-shirt he’d worn beneath his pads and he felt kind of weird -- what was this all about? “How do you feel?” Coach asked, his thick, muscular arms crossed in front of his chest. “Pretty fucking great!” Toby said. “You know, for a guy who just scored the game-winning touchdown!” Coach chuckled. “Must be the jockstrap.” Toby smiled -- his dick still half-hard. He shrugged. “Must be.” “Let’s find out,” the Coach said, shifting his weight. “Take your shirt off.” And even though Toby said, “What?” he immediately found himself pulling his t-shirt over his head. “Flex for me. Let me see those abs.” Toby was more than a little confused when he put his hands behind his head and flexed his abs for the Coach. First, he was confused that he was doing it at all, and then second, he was confused as to where his abs had suddenly come from. What a rack! A tight, lumpy eight pack with deep grooves and separations -- an Adonis belt showing an obvious “V” leading into the front of his game pants. He turned to display his obliques -- why was he doing this? “What’s happening?” he asked, voice wavering, panicking -- not that that stopped him from flexing. The Coach smiled. “Relax, Toby. Don’t panic. You love flexing for me -- it turns you on.” That’s for sure, Toby thought, squeezing his abs tight and twisting his hip. If the old man wants to look, let him see. Toby’s cock thickened a little, kind of obvious itself. “Nice,” Coach said. “Lose the pants.” Toby undid the belt and the lace-front pants, then slid his thumbs behind the waistband, about to shove everything down, leaving himself naked, when the Coach said, “No, no. Leave the jock on. Never take off the jock.” And then he was standing there in front of the Coach in only his jockstrap, his half-hard cock obvious in its cotton mesh pouch. Toby calmly said, “I don’t understand what’s going on.” The Coach eyed him up and down, like he was a piece of meat, then made a motion for Toby to turn around. He obeyed, but he didn’t know why. “Very nice,” the Coach said. “You’ve gained some good size in your legs and ass. I’ll still need you to be bigger, though.” Bigger, Toby thought. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll get bigger.” And when he did, his cock twitched -- pleasure. He was so confused. “Tell me what’s going on. Please.” “Hold on a second,” the Coach said and sauntered over to the locker room door, his own massive legs swinging around each other. “Goldman!” he hollered, head through the door. “Get your ass in here!” Toby could hear the other boys laughing and joking to themselves, probably getting ready for showers. He wasn’t able to call out to them -- he just stood there, waiting. Goldy entered the office, wearing only his jockstrap and carrying a towel. “What’s up, Coach?” he asked, making quick eye-contact with Toby and smirking. “How’s our lucky winner?” “Flex for us, would you, Goldy?” Coach said. “Toby needs something to look at as I explain things to him. You don’t need to pay attention to us -- just focus on flexing.” “You got it, Coach!” Goldy said, immediately beginning his routine, flexing his abs -- his cock sprang to life in his jockstrap, beginning to stretch the pouch. Even Toby could see the guy had a big cock. He seemed to be really into posing. “You know Goldy’s going to State next year, full ride.” Toby DID know that, but when he turned to acknowledge the Coach, the Coach said, “Keep your eye on Goldy. Look at that incredible body.” Toby shifted his eyes back to the quarterback -- Goldy DID have an incredible body, so ripped and muscular. He didn’t mind watching while the Coach spoke. “Goldy’s gonna be a superstar there -- probably get drafted early -- as long as he stays focused on his game. That’s where you come in. Tell me, what do you think of him? Tell me the truth.” Toby watched the boy pose and flex, a vapid smile on the quarterback’s face. “I think he’s a douchebag,” Toby said calmly. A douchebag with an incredible body. “I can imagine,” the Coach said. “He’s a winning quarterback going full ride to State, and the pros beyond that, an incredible body, he’s gorgeous. And look at that fuckin’ cock. Imagine having a cock like that…” Toby looked at Goldman’s cock -- lucky bastard. “I can understand why you’d be jealous.” Jealous? thought Toby. Was he jealous? Is THAT what he’d been feeling? It must have been -- everything the Coach said was so TRUE. Had he let petty jealousy get in the way of appreciating Goldy for what he really was? That made so much sense. “In fact,” Coach said, “I think it would do you a lot of good to admit how you really feel, how you recognize Goldy’s natural superiority and wish that it could be you.” Toby had tears in his eyes. “It’s true!” he said, as if he were confessing. Why had it been so hard? “It’s not him -- it’s ME! I was so jealous I pushed all that negative shit on him when it was ME who was fucked up. He’s gorgeous! He’s perfect! He’s EVERYTHING! And I’m just some petty, jealous mother-fucker who’ll never be that lucky.” Goldy just kept flexing, oblivious to it all, a self-loving smirk on his face. “Feels good to get it out, doesn’t it?” And Toby did feel good, a wave of peace and ease overtook him. Everything was so clear. “Yes,” he said. “I’ve wasted so much energy hating him.” “Well, you can make it up to him. Goldy’s going to State next Fall and I need him to be focused on football, not worrying about homework and papers and grades -- that’s the stuff you like.” That was true, thought Toby. While Goldy may have been his physical superior, Toby was the brains of the outfit -- he was going Ivy League, after all. “But I’m not going to State,” Toby said. “I’ve been pre-accepted to…” “State,” said the Coach, interrupting him. “I just got you recruited to State. That’s why I put you in the Lucky Jockstrap, so the recruiter would see you making some sweet moves and snap you up. Now you can have Goldy’s back -- he can focus on football and training and you can take care of all the bullshit, the papers and the homework. Isn’t that awesome?” A smile crossed Toby’s face. It WAS awesome! It would be so much easier for Goldy if he didn’t have to get bogged down with all the stuff that Toby was so good at. Of course Toby would go to State if it meant he could help Goldy .The Coach had thought of everything. “One more thing,” the Coach said. “I need Goldy focused on football and training, not dealing with some sexual assault case or accidental pregnancy -- I don’t need girls fucking up the picture -- so there’s something else you can help out with.” “Wait a minute,” Toby said, calmly watching Goldy flex his magnificent body, “I’m not gay.” “I don’t care,” Coach said, sounding a little annoyed. “You kids and your labels. I don’t give a shit what you call yourself. My boy has needs -- you’re there to satisfy them so he can stay focused on the shit that matters: football and training.” “But I don’t want…” “Yes, you do. Now be quiet and drop to your knees.” Toby obeyed, kneeling in front of Goldy, the muscular quarterback’s sweaty jockstrap pouch right in his face, inches away from his mouth. He was repulsed.. “Look at that package,” Coach roughly whispered, squatting down next to Toby. “Look how full, how masculine.” Toby had to admit, whether it was gay or not, Goldy had a beautiful package -- he filled that jockstrap so fully. So masculine. “And look at his cock,” Coach continued. “Look how much he likes posing for us, how he gets off on it. Look how his cock gets thicker and more beautiful as it grows there in the pouch. It’s an amazing cock.” “It’s an amazing cock,” Toby agreed, and his own cock started to get hard in his own jockstrap. “Get in there close,” Coach said. “Smell his scent -- get to know it.” Toby did -- his nose was buried in Goldy’s sweaty jockstrap. He could feel Goldy’s amazing cock hardening against his face. “Kiss it,” Coach said. “Kiss that amazing cock.” Toby found himself kissing it, licking it, soaking the jockstrap in his spit. He couldn’t get enough. Goldy’s cock was rock-hard, straining the cotton webbing of the pouch to the max. Toby had never wanted anything so bad. “Feels like you’re ready,” Coach said. “Why don’t you take it out and suck it? Really pleasure him -- the way he deserves. It’s what you want.” He did -- Toby wanted it. He needed it. Frantically, he pulled the waist strap down and Goldy’s big, beautiful cock flopped out. Gorgeous. It was fucking gorgeous. As perfect as Goldy himself. Toby nearly gagged, it was so big and he was so anxious. Goldy moaned and Toby realized it was from the pleasure Toby was giving him -- that turned him on even more! Coach’s voice faded into the background as Toby worked Goldy’s cock -- he knew Coach was talking, but he couldn’t make out the words. He didn’t care. All that mattered was Goldy’s cock.. Amazing. He’d never felt anything like it -- never even considered it -- taking a man’s cock in his mouth, feeling it push itself against the roof of his mouth, the taste of his sweat and pre-cum. Giving pleasure gave him so much pleasure himself -- wave after wave coursed through him, reinforcing his desire. Nothing mattered but this -- nothing mattered but serving Robbie Goldman. Toby would do anything for him. Anything. He lost track of time as he sucked and Coach told him what he needed to know -- how he needed to feel. When Goldy came in his mouth, filling it with his salty ambrosia, Toby came himself, soaking his jockstrap in cum -- but he ignored it. He was too busy swallowing every bit of Goldy’s -- there was nothing better. No reward more fulfilling. And he wanted more. He was so lucky. ************************************************** Nine months later. State University -- the athletic dorm. The morning sun shines through the slits in the blinds, highlighting the sleeping muscular jock in striped shadows. His morning wood is quite obvious beneath the thin cotton sheets. From the darkness of the other bed, a heavily muscled young man carefully turns his alarm clock off before it rings and gingerly crawls across the floor toward the sleeping jock. Kneeling beside the bed, he carefully lifts the sheet away, exposing the jock’s glorious cock, rock hard and thickly lying across the jock’s hip. Without hesitation, he takes the jock’s cock in his mouth, gently sucking the jock awake.The jock orgasms in that moment, filling the heavily muscled young man’s mouth with his salty cum -- the first of many today. The jock has been awake for a while, but he doesn’t open his eyes or move until after he’s orgasmed. Then he casually wraps his hand around the heavily muscled young man’s head and affectionately pushes him off his cock. “Thanks, Toby,” he says quietly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “That’s how I like to start my day.” The heavily muscled young man takes the compliment and a shudder of pleasure runs through him. “As if I could resist a chance at that cock,” Toby says, standing up and adjusting his own morning wood in the jockstrap he never takes off -- his Lucky Jock. “What do you weigh now?” Goldy asks, lounging in bed, studying Toby as Toby brings him his coffee. “I was 238 at weigh-in yesterday,” Toby says, flexing seductively. “I’m getting there, aren’t I?” Goldy smiles over the brim of his coffee cup. “You know I like ‘em big.” Toby has already become too big to be an effective receiver, so they’ve made him a tight end, which Goldy thinks is hysterical. Toby’s new-found muscle size is more useful in that position -- and it allows him to train with abandon. Goldy likes a training partner who pushes him in the weight room -- and it adds to the illusion of their relationship. “I’ll get as big as you want,” Toby says, flexing his arms in a double bi. “I love being big!” “You love being anything I want,” Goldy says, chuckling to himself. “It’s too perfect!” “You deserve it,” Toby says, earnestly, kneeling at the foot of Goldy’s bed. “You need to focus on football and training. I’m happy to take care of anything else. Anything -- I’m so lucky!” “Did you get my English paper done?” “Of course. I also took two of your online midterms. I’m finishing your pottery project after practice.” “Cool,” Goldy says, rubbing Toby’s head like a dog, which makes a shiver of pleasure run through Toby. “Let’s go get some breakfast at the union and then hit the gym. I feel like pumping some chest this morning.” “You got it!” Toby says, jumping up to get changed as Goldy takes a piss in the bathroom. “You seen my yellow compression shirt?” “I did your laundry yesterday -- it’s folded and in the drawer.” “Damn,” Goldy says, coming out of the bathroom, grabbing at his crotch. “Someone’s looking to get fucked, isn’t he?” Toby laughs quietly ducking his head, sliding shorts on over his jockstrap as Goldy puts on compression pants. ”I only want to please you.” Goldy pats Toby’s butt. “Your ass in that jockstrap pleases me.” Some of the guys made fun of Toby because he never takes off his jockstrap, but he waves them off. “This jock changed my life!” he says. “The first time I put it on, I got a touchdown on a kickoff return and then the winning touchdown in the same game! I swore then that if we kept winning, I’d leave it on! It’s lucky, I tell you. It’s my Lucky Jockstrap!”

"Vintage Oscar, Jason, very nice.” “And I see Sebastian chose Tom Ford, sexy as hell.” The two men had met out in front of the concert hall. Even in the big crowd Jason had been able to find Sebastian quickly. The man’s gorgeous silver hair stood out among the crowd – especially in a sea of black tuxes. It was as if there were a hundred spotlights on the tops of neighboring buildings all pointed at the elder man. Also, there was the mustache. That pornographic weapon of lust, which, alone, made Jason’s cock ache like hell. The elder man was clearly manicured and cultured, but in a way that was still rough and sexy in what was a definite masculine way. He wasn’t a Botoxed plastic doll, he was all natural. And then there was the way his obviously muscled framed filled out even a tux. You could still tell he had muscles under all that glorious clothing. He bulged in all the right places and moved in that slow, determined way that bodybuilders moved – clearly thick and heavy from all the meat he was packing. When arms bulge noticeably through the sleeves of a jacket you know a guy is jacked. When it was an elder man jacked to the hilt; that only made the younger man happier. When Sebastian saw Jason walking up he broke into the sexiest grin the younger man had ever seen. White, white teeth popped out among the sea of people and Jason’s knees felt like wet spaghetti for a few seconds. It also seemed like all the massive bulges beneath the tux grew bigger, which made another bulge in Jason’s pants get bigger, too. “Good evening. You know, Jason, you looked very handsome today at work and now you’re even more good looking in your tux. I have a feeling you look hot in anything you wear.” “And any man that still looks big and hard as hell in a tux, must have a super fine body underneath, Mr. Sebastian.” “I do love tuxes – especially on dates. They make for good foreplay when you return home. It takes so long to take them off and it can increase the appetite, as they say. Shall we go in, sir?” Sebastian held out his arm so Jason could loop his within it. It was a simple move that somehow made the younger man extremely comfortable and protected at the same time. The more mature man taking charge of the situation and letting everyone know he had a cute young man as his date. As he reached out, Jason squeezed Sebastian’s arm just to cop a feel of the hard muscle underneath. The elder man immediately noticed and tensed his biceps at the same time to give Jason a thrill. “Are you into muscle, my friend?” “Only when it is on a hot daddy.” “It took me a while to embrace all of my daddy potential, Jason. I think it was because I associated being older with being put out to pasture. It wasn’t until I got the perfect mustache that I realized how hot an elder man can be.” “That, sir, is one freaking sexy strip of daddy fur. I bet it feels real nice in a passionate kiss.” The young man taking tickets glanced up as the two men approached and the kid’s mouth dropped open wide in clear and unashamed lust for the silver-haired fox that was walking up with his date. The poor guy didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at Sebastian’s huge body – his hand outstretched and open. The elder man placed two tickets in the open palm, but the ticket taker still did not move. He seemed to be in some catatonic state – caused by the handsome senior muscleman in front of him. Sebastian reached back out, tore the tickets in two and then placed half of them back in the still unmoving hand. It was clear that Sebastian was used to this kind of reaction. He led Jason into the magnificent lobby of the opera center and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened. “Maybe you’d like to find out sometime.” “I think you already know the answer to that. Have you always been big and muscular, Sebastian?” “No, I was rather sickly as a child and all the way through high school. In college I met a guy that changed my life. My dad thought it would be important for me to be part of a work-study program in school – even though he paid cash for all four years. He was just always into me learning the ‘lessons of life’ - as he called them. I wonder to this day if he actually planned what assignment I would get – knowing it would change my life. He’s a very perceptive and sensitive man. You wouldn’t know it from working with him, but he really is gentle and a good father. Anyway, I was assigned to Jackson Peters – head of maintenance for the entire university. I was there to help him do his department’s budgets and finances – since I was going to be an international business major. Well, when I went down to the guy’s office in the basement of the administration building I got the shock of my life. Jackson Peters was actually called ‘Jocko’ because he was about six feet three inches tall and built like Lou Ferrigno – you know the professional bodybuilder who turned into an actor? “Trust me, Sebastian, I know who Lou Ferrigno is. The man has caused me to lose more loads than I can remember.” “Well, Jocko, took an instant liking to me. I’m sure it had to do with the way I helped his department get their books in order and look really good for his bosses, but it probably had more to do with the way I stared at his body all the time. He could tell I was smitten with his size and his obvious strength. He used to bend stuff just to entertain his staff. Well, long story short, Jocko decided to take me under his wing and show me how to work out. But the dude wasn’t just into weightlifting, he was also into martial arts, tai chi, meditation, and so much more. I learned more about life in the basement of the administration building over those four years than I did in all my classes put together. I’m pretty sure Jocko knew that I was gay right from the start, but our relationship never strayed in that direction. He was married with about eight children, and although I know he grew to love me, it was more like a son or a protégé. He helped me turn my body into what you see today. I owe him a lot. I get back to the university every now and then to visit him. He still works out and visits the campus, but he retired years ago. I’ve worked hard to maintain a healthy lifestyle ever since my time with Jocko.” “I’d say you’ve done a good job. And kudos to Jocko.” That’s when the lights dimmed and the opera began. Sebastian reached over and grabbed Jason’s hand, holding it through the entire show – even during intermission when the lights were up and people noticed. The big man’s thick fingers intertwined in Jason’s did something to the younger man. It made him calmer than he could ever remember being before. He wasn’t nervous about the date in any way. He also felt really empowered in some way – to be more himself than he ever had been in his entire life. He laughed more freely, spoke more honestly, and showed his appreciation of the older man beside him more openly. He stroked the man’s hand with his own fee hand. He leaned his head on Sebastian’s shoulder during the really sad parts of the show. And he allowed the larger man to lead him without any hesitation. Sebastian would put his hand on Jason’s lower back to lead him through the crowd and Jason followed the lead like they were in some kind of incredible dance. Every now and then Sebastian would bring Jason’s hand up to his face and kiss it, making sure the sturdy bristles of his sexy mustache brushed against it firmly. It was clearly a sign of what was to come. When the opera was over, they both agreed that it was not the season’s best, but that being there with each other had probably made it one of the most memorable. “I have an idea, Sebastian. I know we were planning to go out to dinner, but I happen to be an excellent cook. I’m not bragging, I’ve just been obsessed with the Food Network for years, and it’s taught me a lot. Maybe it would be more fun if we went to my place and I made you dinner.” “That sounds perfect, but my loft apartment is two blocks away, so it might be more fun if we went there. I’m sure I have everything you would need to cook us a wonderful meal and it would be a lot faster. And right now, I’d like to be alone with you as quickly as possible. What do you think about that plan?” “Lead the way, sir. Lead the way.” Again, Sebastian held out his arm and Jason joyfully linked his through. There was the now obligatory groping of the hard biceps, which was, in turn, tensed even harder to give the younger man some pleasure. They walked in silence for a about a minute as Jason continued to massage the hard mound of muscle under the tuxedo jacket. When Sebastian spoke next he didn’t look down at his date, he stared forward and continued to walk. “Will you kiss it later, Jason? I love it when guys kiss my biceps.” “Kiss it, lick it, bite it, massage it – whatever you want, sir. I hope you’ll kiss it, too, Sebastian. That turns me on.” Jason had not hesitated at all when answering Sebastian. He hadn’t needed to. The question had seemed so natural, so normal, and almost as if the younger man had expected it. Sebastian smiled at the answer – and the fact that there hadn’t been any hesitation. He had a very good feeling about the young man attached to his arm. He had a better feeling about the fact that Jason was trying desperately to squeeze – even slightly – his big hard tensed biceps. “I’ll be glad to kiss it. That big thing’s no giving in at all, is it? No matter how hard you squeeze.” “It’s like someone put cloth over marble. I can’t wait to see the thing free of all restraints and flexed hard.” “Well, you won’t have to wait too long - here we are.” “Um . . . this isn’t a loft apartment, Sebastian, it’s an entire building.” “Well, yes it is . . . but it also houses my office, a gym, and a yoga center, so technically only the third and fourth floor are my apartment.” “I need to take note of how you hide the full truth, sir. It might help me understand you more fully in the future.” “Fair enough, but know that if you ever ask me a direct question I will always answer truthfully.” “Yes?” “I promise.” “Then here’s one – do you like to flex your hard body for younger guys?” “I find it the most stimulating foreplay I’ve ever experienced, Jason. Why do you ask?” “Because I find almost nothing in the world as exciting as worshipping a big older muscleman as he flexes.” “The yoga studio and the gym have floor to ceiling mirrors.” “That news almost made me cum, but first I feed you, so you’ll have stamina to keep up with me throughout the night, Sebastian.” “I look forward to the meal, Jason, but – trust me – I have the stamina of a hundred men put together. I think you make me that way.”

Awesome writing! My theory that their growth is caused by the thing that comes natural to them. For Wes it's being the boss (and drinking cum), for Marcus it's being in the centre of attention. And for Froy, I'm guessing it might be submission, which was being denied ("don't call me sir") up till now. If I'm right, I'd be delighted if Froy's growth would overshadow the other two afflicted.

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Wow, another incredible Krishna tale, killing people with his pure sexiness, stopping their hearts after having made them orgasm without even touching them, or himself. The next couple of deaths were much more tactile, but still, they were unique and not altogether unpleasant, at least Tony died while probably having had the best kiss he had ever received by anyone. Krishna is the god of destruction, but he also seems to be the God of sex, because quite frankly, he makes everyone who sees him cum so much, so hard, that they die. I wonder what would be the fate of the biggest, best NFL team against Krishna, in both a game and afterward?