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Hey. Just a quickie - Roger was a good looking guy in his mid forties, square jaw, nice blue eyes, dark brown hair. However the only thing was he was skinny as a rake and really lacked in confidence - something his two brattish step sons, Chad and Cody took advantage of. Roger felt sorry for them because their mother passed a few years back but they had really taken advantage of Rogers sympathy to be given money, clothes, anything they wanted while they lazed around the house watching tv and playing video games. This made Roger depressed. While on his lunch break Roger was walking through town when he saw the new fountain that had been installed in the square, and next to that fountain was a sign that read 'Wishing Fountain - donate £1 In the fountain and your deepest desire will come to fruition within 24 hours.' 'What the hell' Roger thought and tossed a pound into the fountain, although he wasn't really sure what his deepest desire was. He wasn't materialistic, didn't care for money, and had no deep dark sexual fantasies (he was aware of). Nothing happened immediately after Roger tossed in the coin so he thought no more of it. When Roger got home that evening, Cody and Chad started bossing him around as usual "did you pick up the new Resident Evil, Roger?" Cody barked! "Umm no sorry" Roger said, a tone of cowardice in his voice "What the fuck do you mean No!!" Cody shouted stomping over to his step dad. "Listen "pops" we'll always be bigger than you so really need to start doing EVERYTHING we FUCKING SAY!" yelled Cody looming over his meek stepdad before stomping off. Just then Roger noticed there was a package for him. He opened it up, having no idea what was inside to reveal a silky, spandex Superman costume, just like the one Christopher Reeves wore! Red trunks boots and cape to complete it! Roger was amazed and really drawn to the costume, he loved superman as a kid and secretly had a thing for the man of steel too. He quickly and sneakily took it up to his room before the boys could notice it. Once in his room with the door shut Roger wasted no time in stripping himself of his shirt tie and slacks, before peeling off his socks and briefs as his cock began to awaken and stiffen. He unravelled the superman suit and slipped in one leg than the other, and surprisingly the suit was just the right size for his weak body. He continued to pull the suit up on his chest pulling his arms through the sleeves, pulling the trunks up, throwing the cape on and putting on the boots. Roger took a look in his mirror and loved the look of himself as Superman. Just then Roger heard a voice in his head, "Hello Roger do you hear me?" "What the fuck who's this?" "This is Superman, Roger, I see you like the suit I sent You, I've been watching you for a long time, and when I saw you toss that coin into that fountain I knew deep down what you wanted." "A superman suit?" "Haha no Roger, to BE a new Superman, if you truly desire it, to be like me and help protect the earth as I see you're a good guy. You can have my powers, my abilities, my strength, speed, stamina and my godlike body if you wish it, as I've come to realise i can't protect this world by myself. So, do you wish it?" Did Roger wish it? Fuck yeah he thought! To be a god amongst men and teach his stepsons a lesson or two? Roger didn't give it a second thought. "I wish it Superman! GIVE ME POWER!!!!" The door suddenly burst open as Cody and Chad heard their stepdad shout. "What the fuck Roger? Why are you dressed like that? Haha you look pathetic!!" A deep chuckle came from Roger as he started to feel power flow through his body, "oh pathetic am I? We'll soon see about that!" And with that Roger began to flex in his costume as a bright light engulfed him and then the boys couldn't believe their eyes. Muscle upon muscle was being inflated into their stepdad, as his body went up from 130lbs, to 180lbs in a matter of seconds. "HAHAHAHA FINALLY I'M THE MAN OF THE HOUSE NOW BOYS" shouted Roger as his pecs jutted out in front of him, biceps exploded into the size of softballs, legs became as thick as tree trunks, all the while stretching and expanding the superman costume. Chad and Cody couldn't help but look at their step dad In awe, wonder and slight horror at the thought of what Roger would do to them. Roger just continued to grow and grow, becoming taller and taller too soon looming over his boys with shit eating grin, 180lbs became 240lbs, 240lbs became 300lbs! Roger was in ecstasy as he felt his body stretch, harden and grow even more as he became a demigod, he felt and acknowledged his powers and how to use them as he continued to flex and feel his body through the skintight suit, turning himself on even more. As the transformation was complete and the light faded, Roger moved at lightning speed grabbing Cody by the scruff of the neck and lifting him high with one arm like he was Nothing! "Check me out boys! Say hello to Superdad! HAHAHAHAHA!....Hey Cody, fancy a flying lesson?" And with that Roger bearhugged Cody then took off at lightning speed flying into the air making a hole in the roof with Chad looking on in amazement and getting quite hard at what he just saw... "TIME TO TEACH YOU A LESSON SOME yelled Roger as he continued to fly above skyscrapers and mountains with Cody in his arms, kicking and squirming and absolutely shitting himself. "Please dad I'm sorry I'll do anything I swear" 10 minutes later Chad was naked on Rogers bed jacking himself off at whar he just witnessed when there was a blur and standing there at the edge of the bed in all his red and blue glory, huge muscular arms folded across his chest was Roger. "Like what you see boy?" Said Roger and he flexed his pecs then his arms. "Wh-what did you do with Cody?" "Oh I just left him on a tiny deserted island for a while, teach that punk brother of yours a lesson. You, on the other hand, I can think of another form of punishment" And with that, Roger closed his eyes and wished the suit away, showcasing his naked muscular godlike glory. His monster cock starting to rise...

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.”

You’re Fired! Custom story request from a supporter on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/MuscleNexus. I released it a few months ago there, but I wanted to post it here for all of you as well. Thanks for reading! Tags: SFW, muscle growth, forced growth, getting hairy, “You’ve got ten minutes to pack up your stuff and get out of here. You’re done doctor!” “No, no, no. You don’t understand. I’m so close!” Dr. Owen Nex stammered. “This work will change your military. The world even.” Owen’s boss leaned in close, his coffee breath puffing into the lanky scientist’s face. “If I had a dollar for every plucky PhD that told me his idea would change the world then I would have enough funding for your project. But that’s not the case. Months of work and almost nothing to show for it. You’re done.” The general turned briskly and stomped away. Owen opened his mouth to protest, to yell to the hulking man quickly retreating down the corridor, but then he let it shut. He was done and his dream would never reach fruition. He looked around his lab. notebooks, tubes, and large genetic material processing machines littered the cramped room. “So close,” he whispered to himself. He picked up a crate that had come that morning. PURIFIED OX DNA it read in bold letters on the side. It was his last desperate attempt to make his ‘super-serum’ work. The serum had been his obsession since high school. He was always skinny, puny in fact, and he hated that. But he hated lifting weights more. He knew that even the best steroids required weightlifting and a high calorie diet, so it was his mission to create a new kind of steroid that could bypass all that. Promising results during his PhD research netted him a contract with the government. A contract that was now expired. The crate was empty, he had tossed the ox DNA into the synthesizer with the rest of his half-baked serum - a final move that had ended once again in failure. He tossed some notebooks into the crate along with some personal items and turned to leave the lab and his dream forever. “Ding!” The synthesizer lit up and the cover slid open. A small cuvette of red liquid slid out. It was property of the government now, Owen thought. Not like it would do anything anyways… “Fuck the government.” He took his water bottle out of the crate and emptied it into the drain. “They get nothing,” he said to no one in particular as he dumped the red liquid into the bottle. “This is mine.” Owen dropped the crate into the trunk of his car and screeched out of the parking lot. “How was work?” Owen’s boyfriend Greg asked over the car’s bluetooth. “I got fired.” “WHAT!? Those assholes…” Greg was silent for a second. Come on home babe, I was just about to go for a run, but I can wait for you.” “No go. You know I don’t like running anyways. Besides, it’s raining” “Fine, but we’re going out when I get back. You know I can’t stand you sulking around the house.” Owen grunted his approval and hung up the call. By the time he pulled into the small bungalow that him and his partner shared the sun had begun to set and the rain had stopped. He popped his trunk and stepped around the car to retrieve his things. The air smelled metallic, electrical. Owen let the crate thud onto the kitchen table. He wasn’t going to pay attention to it anytime soon, he thought, broken dreams could wait. He pulled a bottle of beer out of the fridge, snapped the lid off, and settled on the couch. Not long after he heard the front door click and Greg came stepping in.”I’m drenched!” He called from the other room. Owen didn’t look up from his beer, “hey Greg.” “Ooh a beer sounds good,” Greg said, motioning to the beer cap on the counter. Let me get dried off and hydrated and I’ll come join you. Owen heard his boyfriend rip a few paper towels off the roll and the tap come on. “That was a good run,” he muttered to the living room in between sips of water. “I know it’s not really your thing, but maybe you could come with me someday?” “Maybe,” Owen answered. “Or maybe we can start going to the gym!. I know you’ve got a thing for muscular guys. It’s tragic that you ended up with a beanpole runner like me. That’ll never change, but it might be fun. What do you say?” “No.” “Oh okay.” Greg wiped beads of sweat from his forehead. “I’m still sweating like crazy, I’m going to have a shower.” Owen didn’t answer so Greg put the empty water bottle down and headed upstairs. He began panting as he made his way up. “Must be really winded from that run…” He thought. The stairs creaked under his footsteps, each one slightly louder than the last. “Damn, when did I get so out of shape?” He pulled the collar of his t-shirt, it felt tight on his neck. He noticed with his arm reaching up that his sleeves were also unusually tight, the material rode up his arms. “What?!” He hissed to himself as he looked at his arms in front of him. The back of each arm and hand were covered in matted dark hair and thick corded veins. His forearms bulged meatily in a way that was totally foreign to him. “Gah!” He grabbed his thickening, hairy arm and made a few lumbering steps into the bathroom, barely noticing the loud slaps of his larger feet. He slammed the door and quickly locked it before staring into the mirror. “Woah.” Greg held on the counter to keep his balance. He was definitely bigger. But how?! His eyes moved up his torso. His shirt was pushed forward tightly by thick abs with slab-like pecs overhanging them. They were still pushing out, creating a meaty shelf with a deep hairy crevice between them just becoming visible at his straining collar. He felt the material of the shirt straining as his back widened and his shoulders slowly throbbed into beefy boulders. Each sleeve cut into his ballooning biceps and triceps, making the bicep vein on each arm pop even more. He shut his eyes and grimaced as he heard the fabric begin to tear. He gasped in relief as the shirt finally fell away, in shreds. Breathing heavily Greg fixed his eyes on his hulking body. Each pec looked thick and full of hard muscle. They were covered in the same dark hair that he noticed on his arms. His jaw was also darkened with a short dark beard. He moved his arm up to rub it, grazing his thickened neck in the process. “What the fuck….” He grumbled in a deep, powerful voice. He then noticed that his running shorts had also fallen away in shreds. His briefs strained thinly over his mighty legs and ass. Already decent sized from years of running, his calves had thickened to immense proportions, each muscle easily bigger than his head, covered in thick veins and even thicker hair. He cupped a meaty pec in his hand and gave it a flex. The muscle bounced powerfully under his palm. “Oh shit….” --- Owen set the empty beer bottle on their coffee table and shut his eyes. Greg was taking a long time in the shower. He got up to get another beer. He cracked the cap off and let it tumble onto the kitchen table. It landed on it’s side and rolled until it clinked off the metal of Owen’s water bottle from work and fell on its side. Owen’s eyes narrowed at the bottle. It was uncapped, empty. “Oh shit.” Owen leapt up the stairs two at a time. Before pounding on the bathroom door. “Greg?!” There was no sound of water running, just heavy breathing. “You okay?” “Yeah.” Owen recoiled at the deep brutish sound from the other side of the door. “How about you let me in? What’s going on?” Silence, only punctuated by Greg’s heavy breaths from the bathroom. Finally Owen heard the click of the lock. He opened the door slowly. He smelled Greg before he saw him. A dense musky smell that frightened the small man and aroused him. Then he was face to face with two of the most muscled tree trunk legs and thickest muscle gut he had ever seen. He looked up to see his gargantuan beast of a boyfriend. The enormous man’s head almost brushed the ceiling, his dark dense beard tangled with his chest hair as he struggled to look over his pecs and gut to see his tiny boyfriend. “You did this,” he boomed at the small scientist. “Yes,” he gulped. “I mean no. I don’t know! What the hell Greg?” He stammered for words, half noticing the throbbing tent forming in his pants.”What are we going to do? You’re a monster! Oh god, I’m so sorry.” Greg half smiled, half sneered. He crouched down, making his massives calves flare out even bigger and coming eye level with his boyfriend. “It’s not so bad.” He moved an arm next to Owen’s head and flexed it tightly. He watched as the muscle balled up into a massive mound bigger than Owen’s head. Owen’s heart leapt into his throat as he caught the sharp smell emanating from Greg’s hairy pit and felt heat radiating from his massive veiny biceps. “In fact,” Greg growled playfully into Owen’s ear. “I want more.”

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

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.

Dad’s Changes - Part 1: Pick Up Although Dad and I always got along well when I was growing up there were times I’d look at the other younger dads and wish mine was more like them. I’d see them at the park playing with my friends; young, sporty and cool dads. My dad was definitely not what you’d call young and cool; a maths teacher with grey receding hairline, a bit of a pot belly and the cheesiest Dad jokes imaginable. Although he was a bit older he was still pretty active. He’s always the first on the slopes when we go skiing, always the first to give a track a go when mountain biking and he’s always keen to take the boat out and go fishing. This year is a milestone year for us both. I turn thirty and he has just hit retirement. I guess it’s to be expected that it’s a time for big changes for him. More time to spend on his passions, like his boat and fishing. So with some annual leave owed to me I thought it was a good time to head down from my home in the city to see how retired life was treating him. In the usual spot at the station he was there is his ute, the name we use for a pick up truck here in the South Pacific. I threw my bag in the tray and came round to give him a hug. When I rounded the cab I did a double take; the man getting out was undeniably Dad with his blue eyes and bristly moustache but everything else about him felt just a bit different. Was that definition in his forearms when he reached around me to give me a hug? Was his stomach now suddenly flat and his hair thick and full? It wasn’t until his arms were around me that I felt the strength. Dad was fit! Where did this come from? What happened? We got in the ute and started driving back home. I couldn’t take my eyes off Dad. Everywhere it was evident things had changed, all over he was toned and built. While I looked him up and down I realised Dad was speaking to me about some project he was working on but I couldn't focus at all on what he was saying. Finally I noticed we’d pulled over and Dad had a giant smirk on his face. ‘Notice a few changes huh son?’ I nodded weakly. ‘This change of lifestyle has really done me a world of good. I feel like a new man!’ ‘Well what’s changed Dad?’ I asked. ‘Well since work finished I joined the local gym down the road, just to fill in some of my spare time I guess. I didn’t think it’d make any difference but I have time on my hands now!’ He grinned So ‘I met a couple of nice guys there and they set me up with a bit of a programme. I never guessed it would make much of a difference but I guess what I’ve been doing has been working.’ As he said that he flexed his arm in front of me and my eyes fixed on the sizeable mound that appeared through his t-shirt fabric. ‘This is crazy Dad!’ I finally muttered without taking my eyes off his biceps. Like a zombie I reached out and give his arm a squeeze just to see if it really was real. It was hard, really hard and in response to my touch Dad gave it another flex. I could tell that there was more than just a little definition there. ‘So as you can see I’ve been growing! All over too! Everywhere except for this I guess’ he said patting his tight belly ‘Even my hair has been growing back in!’ Looking at him I could see he was right. He did seem bigger all over. ‘Even this has been growing’ and he gave a quick squeeze of his crotch. My mouth dropped. My eyes had followed his hands to his crotch and watch him squeeze his package. I couldn’t take my eyes off it. His pants were tight and full. And his package seemed to be growing more right under my eyes. Unconsciously my hand had still be squeezing dads bicep. But I felt it move towards his crotch. I couldn’t stop it. I had to give it a squeeze myself. Dad must have realised what was coming next. He didn’t stop me, instead he moved his hand to give me full access. My hand wrapped around the bulge that was pushing out my dad's chinos. It felt meaty, full and burning hot. I felt the bulge throb under my touch and proceed to grow even larger. I felt dads arm wrap me around my shoulders. I felt the strength in his arms and shoulders as he pulled me in closer. ‘Who would’ve guessed your dad would get bigger at my age.’ I felt myself sink into his embrace and felt his strong arms and hard chest against me. I realised I was now squeezing dad’s cock through his chinos. And then I realised my face was now right next to dads. His silver moustache framed his full lips and his blue eyes pierced right into me. I felt myself in slow motion falling into him. Our lips met and I felt a shock of electricity. Never before did I ever have any thoughts or feelings about my dad in this way. Never would I have ever imagined here I would be, on the side of the road in my dad’s arms, kissing him… But something had changed. This wasn’t the dorky unfit maths teacher I once knew. This was a strong dominatinate man I was unable to resist. I felt his arm reach up and grab the back of my head as I feel into the passionate kiss. His tongue entered my mouth as I felt his moustache against my lips. His kiss intoxified me. Dad moved my hand from his crotch and slowly began to loosen the button and unzip the fly. With his pants open I couldn’t help but stare at the huge throbbing member now visible through his white y fronts. It was incredible. Clearly far too big for the confines of his underpants. He slid his thumb under the waistband and slowly pulled his undies down and under his balls. I was mesmerised by the cock that stood in front of me. Pushing the 9 or 10 inch mark easily and with a thickness to match. His balls not only matching in proportion looked so hefty they must have been at least double normal size. Despite being overwhelmed by the sight of this magnificent cock I couldn’t help but notice other changes that had taken place with Dad. When he lowered his pants he also pulled up his shirt to make room for his hard cock. His exposed belly which only months ago poked out over his belt line now rippled with hard abs clearly defined on either side of his silver snail trail. His legs either side of his huge smooth balls were now equally large and defined with muscle. I felt my hand explore this new found muscle and run up his rippled abs and push his shirt up higher. As more of his torso was revealed I began to get a sense for just how dramatic the changes actually had been. Where only months before I would have expected to see some soft hairy man tits my hands now found hard and pointed nipples sticking downwards from two large, round and muscular pecs. My mouth left my dad’s lips and found one of his hard nipples. I heard a deep moan from him as I sucked and nibbled on the rock hard nipple. Dad slightly arched his back in response to my touch which just accentuated the ripped torso he now possessed. I found my lips leaving his hard nips and travelling down his ripped abs until I was met with his huge throbbing, angry looking cock. I felt a desire like I’ve never felt before. This was it, the point of no return. Things would never be the same after this. I decided in that moment to put aside my doubts and follow my instinct. I had to wrap my mouth around that huge cock, my whole body compelled me to. I opened my mouth wide to take in the huge flared head of his cock and slid my lips down his shaft. I could clearly feel the veins running down the length of his cock. Dad let out a deep guttural moan as I filled my mouth with his burning hot member. Before I’d even reached halfway down his cock my mouth was already stuffed completely full. I began bobbing up and down on dads huge thick rod and a rumbling sigh of pleasure escaped his lips. ‘Ah son!’ Dad sighed, ‘you really are a natural at this. Yeah suck on your daddy’s thick cock!’ Hearing Dad talk to me in that way turned me on even more than I already was. I needed more of his cock. Despite his girth I knew I wanted to swallow him fully. On the next downward stroke I pushed further till his thick head was right at the back of my mouth and squeezed him down my throat. Slowly I swallowed inch after inch until all the remaining inches of his 10+ inch cock were either in my mouth or down my throat. I felt my lips brush up against his pubes and the smell of his balls intoxified me. ‘Fuck son!’. He roared and he grabbed the back of my head with his meaty hand and began guiding my head up and down on the full length of his cock. On the upstroke I’d try to swallow whatever air I could before my throat got stretched wide on the next downward stroke. Gradually I could feel his tempo pick up and suddenly he gripped my head steady and held me in place and began face fucking me hard. Tears rolled down my checks and my lungs screamed from the lack of oxygen but despite this I was loving the power and dominance my changed Dad had over me. My own cock which I’d ignored till now begged for release. I slipped my hand under the waistband of my shorts and lowered them letting my own 8 inch cock free. I’ve always been proud of my cock, and it’s one of the biggest of all my buddies but next to dads huge impressive cock it didn’t compare at all. I started stroking my cock as Dad fucked my throat. He reached his arm down behind me and grabbed my ass. ‘Hot ass you got here son’ he said as he gave it a squeeze. His finger slid down my crack as he explored my ass further till he found my smooth and tight pucker. He played with my ass lips and the entrance to my hole. This was driving me crazy and I moaned with a mouth and throat full of my daddy’s cock. He lifted his hand to his mouth and spat on it before finding my crack again and sliding straight into my hole. He started sliding in and out of my hole with his fat middle finger. I arched my back in pleasure and his cock slid out of my mouth. ‘Fuck yeah Dad.’ I groaned. He took no notice of this and just grabbed my head and slammed it back on his cock. He slid another finger in my hole. And before long he was finger fucking me as hard as as he was fucking my throat with his cock. I was amazed at what my dad had become. I would’ve never imagine he would anything other than the old Dad I knew, let alone become this dominant, massively hung and hugely muscled daddy. Dad lifted me off his cock and then pulled off my t-shirt and shorts. I suddenly became aware that we were still just parked up on the side of the country road halfway back to his house. Every so often a car would drive past. But Dad didn’t give a shit. He didn’t care that his own son was sucking his cock in plain sight if anyone cared to look in the cab of his ute. He was a changed man now and his body had needs and no one was getting in the way of those needs being met. Dad picked me up in his strong powerful arms and positioned me over his lap face to face. It was only now that I really began to appreciate the muscle mass Dad had stacked on in such a short time. His pecs stood out like a shelf and his nips pointed down. His traps bulged and his neck looked so thick. Lifting me up had made his arms bulge to the point where they looked like they were growing right in front of my eyes. He had me kneel either side of his thick legs. He spat on his hand and spread his spit between my ass cheeks and slicked me up. He began lowering me down onto his cock. Due to my own sizeable cock I’m usually the top when it comes to sex but my dominant muscle daddy didn’t give me a chance to protest. I knew his huge muscle cock was about to spread me wide open and there was nothing I could do to stop it. His big head slid along my crack till he found my pucker. Next thing I knew he pushed me down forcefully onto his cock. I instantly felt the most intense feeling I’ve ever felt in my life. The pain of being torn apart by this huge cock was mixed with pure lust from feeling my newly muscle daddy penetrating me for the first time. I let out a sound that was halfway between a yell of pain and a moan of pleasure and Dad proceeded to rock me up and down on his huge shaft as more and more of his hot cock slid into me. ‘That’s right boy. Let’s see you take all of you dad’s cock inside that tight hole of yours, that’s a good boy.’ he growled as he roughly pushed me down the final few inches until I felt his balls hit my stretched puckered hole. He pulled my face down into his and we kissed roughly. He grabbed my ass to bounce me up and down on his cock. I felt the whole length of his massive cock as I slid up and down upon it. Once he had got me into a rhythm he took his hands off my butt and put his arms behind his head. This caused his shoulders and biceps to bulge massively more than I imagined possible. The sight of this turned me on so much I began fucking myself even faster on his fat cock. My hard cock slapped on his ripped abs and a drop of precum formed at the head. He reached down and swiped this off my cock and rubbed it on his lips. He then pulled me down and kissed me letting me taste my own precum on his lips. As we kissed he pinched my nipples hard which caused me to shudder all over and let out a deep moan. I was so turned on I began pounding myself on dad’s cock faster and harder than ever. I pinched his big hard nipples too and he let out a groan to match my own. His cock deep inside of me seemed to be pulsing and growing even larger and harder. Every downward thrust felt deeper and my hole felt more stretched out that ever before. He grabbed my butt and spread my cheeks wide and started slamming into me with more force than I felt like I could take. All I could feel was my ass pulsing around his enormous cock and his own cock hot and pulsing inside of me. I couldn’t take it any longer. I screamed as my cock started violently unloading all over dad's chest. This caused my hole to tense tight around dad’s cock and this sent him over the edge too. While my own cock continued to unload I heard Dad let out a roar and I felt his cock explode inside me. More and more he pumped into me I couldn’t count how many times he shot deep inside me. He pulled me down and kissed me hard and as he did he fat cock slid out of my abused hole still pumping load after load. My whole body felt weak and I collapsed into his arms. When my mind cleared I realised my whole body was twitching all over. My hole was gaping and out was spilling copious amounts of my own daddy’s cum. ‘Dad that was amazing!’ I exclaimed as I lay in his arms. ‘It was son, you took my cock like a champ!’ With that he reached down and ran his fingers over my abused hole and collected the cum that was dribbling out of me. He brought it to his lips and took it in his mouth. I kissed him and we shared a sloppy cum filled kiss. Finally Dad lifted me off his lap and sat me back beside him on the seat of the cab. I looked down at his cock. It looked massive. It was at least 12 inches now of thick pulsing man meat. Then I noticed all over his body it looked like he had just blown up in size. He looked bigger all over. ‘Dad what the hell is going on. You look even bigger than before!’ ‘Son I’ve got somewhere to take you before we head home, and that might shed some light on some of these changes I’ve been going through. In the meantime, why don’t you lean down here and clean this up.’ Without a second thought I leaned down and started licking up my cum from his abs and his cum that had spilled all down his fat cock. ‘That’s a good boy’ Dad said as he started the engine of the ute and pulled into the traffic.

Chapter 3: The competition It was a packed auditorium for the Leeward Islands classic bodybuilding competition. Fans were eagerly awaiting the Men’s heavyweight class to take the stage. Among the close to 500 spectators sat my girlfriend Katie. She giddily looked from side to side taking in the faces of all the people seated around her, sure that their minds were about to be all blown. I was the most muscular human any of them had ever seen, and I would soon step onto the stage. Katie had dropped me off backstage only 40 minutes prior, mere minutes before the judges were due to finish the weigh-ins. We had wanted to make my presence a secret until the last minute, and so we timed our arrival to be as late as possible. I was ushered to the scale and told to strip down to only my posing suit. I could already feel a dozen sets of eyes looking at me, other heavyweight guys in my class, some of the figure women who’d just come off stage, and some judges. They saw me walk in wearing my loose fitting sweat suit and likely thought I was some strong man competitor, wanting to make a go of bodybuilding. Some fat, overfed and out of shape guy who didn’t belong here. After all, it looked like I must have weighed 400 pounds! Keen to prove them all wrong, I pulled off my sweatshirt. I think one of the figure girls and at least 2 of my fellow heavyweight competitors gasped. I stepped onto the scale, and my weight was recorded: 408 pounds. I’d put on a few more pounds of muscle just since I’d gotten to the Island. When my class was announced, I was at the back of the line walking on stage. Finally after the other 8 competitors had strode under the lights, I made my appearance from behind the curtain. The buzz in the auditorium rose to a bit of a roar and people began to stand up and jockey around to get a better view of me. At least a couple hundred people ignored the ban on cell phone photography and started to snap furious pictures and videos of me. I honestly felt like my muscles could sense all the attention and they literally seemed like they were swelling right then and there as I was walking. That made me strut just a little bit prouder until I took my place at Stage right. At 6’4” tall I already stood above the rest of the guys in my field, and I must have outweighed the next heaviest competitor by 150 pounds. This was an amateur competition after all. All the other guys stepped back a few steps to give me a spot at the centre of the stage right under all the bright lights. The judges started to call the mandatory poses: “Front double biceps.” I bring my colossal arms up to the side, then flex them intensely. Mounds of muscle form a perfect bicep peak. My arms are bigger than the next biggest guys quads. “Side Chest.” From the side, my Pecs jut out from my body by 6 inches, and I simultaneously flex my glutes so the side of my ass in also on display. “Back lat spread.” Turning my back to the crowd, my flexed back is so developed that the different muscle groups look like they were chiselled out of granite. My tiny posing suit can barely contain my enormous tight glutes, and even my hamstrings and calf muscles are bulging at this point. The judges narrowed the field down to 3 of us, and we performed some more off the cuff poses for the crowd. The audience really roared when I gave a “most muscular” for them. And after what must have been the shortest deliberation in the history of bodybuilding, I was announced the winner. Second place wasn’t even close. After the post competition fervor died down, and I’d finished giving interviews and getting my photo taken by the various media outlets who were there, it was time for Katie and I to head back to the resort. We met up backstage where she literally ran and jumped onto me, putting her legs around my waist. She jammed her tongue into my mouth and kissed me like never before. We kissed like this for a while, then Katie whispered into my ear. “You are unlike any other man on this planet. You’ve left mankind in the dust. Humanity is all in awe of you and your muscles. I AM IN AWE OF YOU AND YOUR MUSCLES. You’re a conqueror, so take me, like I’m your prize. I want you to go medieval with me tonight, you’re the king and I’m your subject. I am here to serve you and your muscles.” I wasn’t going to turn down an offer like that! I didn’t even bother going to look for my sweat suit that I’d changed out of when I arrived at the auditorium. Fuck that, I looked so good, I didn’t care about modesty. So still oiled up from the show, and still only wearing my Red spandex posing suit, I took Katie, threw her over my shoulder and out we went from the auditorium. When we got outside, a black Masserati was waiting there. A driver and the manager from our resort were standing there and waived us down. “Excusez-moi monsieur. In honour of your victory, we would like to chauffeur you back to the resort, where your room has been upgraded to the presidential suite. Perhaps tomorrow you can perform a posing session for the rest of our guests on the beach?” “Yes, tomorrow. Certainly” I answered. “But right now, please take us back to the resort.” I gently placed Katie into the car’s back seat. On the short drive we made out furiously. Katie was normally quite an active sexual partner, but I could tell she had a different attitude tonight. She was being submissive, and almost begging for me to touch her, kiss her, run her hand over my abs. I had thought the whole “conqueror/master” thing she had whispered was just a ruse to get me turned on, but maybe she was actually as hypnotized by my muscles as everyone else had seemed to be at the show. When we got to the front of the resort, I got out of the car and threw Katie back over my shoulder. My posing suit was now bulging a little obscenely in the front from my dick which was now at half mast from making out with Katie on the drive. But I didn’t care. And neither did the couple hundred people all watching us arrive from the lobby. The Hotel manager led us to our new suite, and I swiftly closed the door. Our new room was 2200 square feet, with a loft, and huge sitting area. Along one wall, there was a 8’x8’ mirror. “What do you want from me? Ask anything and it’s yours.” Katie pleaded to me as soon as the door was shut. “Show these muscles some love. Starting with my biceps” I stated. Katie jumped up on the bed so she was standing level with my arms and immediately started devouring my bicep with her tongue. She was making out with the indent between the two heads of my bicep, flicking her tongue in and out. Simultaneously her right hand was groping my rock hard glute, and her left was going over and over my abs. I was getting pretty turned on, but there was something else I wanted to try that I figured would drive Katie nuts. I lowered down on to my knees. “Katie, get that dress and those panties off and come here.” I extended my right arm and flexed my bicep. “Now come grind your pussy on this.” Katie took the hint and dropped her dripping wet pussy onto my 26” bicep. Her vagina couldn’t even come close to taking something that massive, but she got her clit involved in the motion and within a minute had an orgasm, leaking pussy juice all over my arm. After her gasping and panting died down a few moments later, Katie got an idea. “Steven, your muscles turn me on so much, but I think we need to let you enjoy them as much as I do. Come over here.” Katie led me to the wall with the 8 foot mirror. “Now, flex as hard as you can.” I performed my front double bicep pose and the sight was my fantasy come true. I was the biggest, bulgiest, most obscenely muscled human to have ever lived. My biceps were enormous, my Pecs were gigantic, my abs were so perfectly chiselled they looked fake, my shoulders and traps were so huge and freaky they almost went up to my ears. Not an inch of my body was undeveloped. I was so turned on by the sight of my muscles that I immediately felt my posing suit being stretched by my growing hard on. Katie got down to her knees, and put her mouth up against my crotch. Sensually putting her mouth against the outside of the tightly stretched lycra of my posing trunks, she began to kiss my erect dick through the fabric. In between kisses, she started talking dirty to me and my muscles. “Steven, look at yourself. You’re huge.” And then back to work on my crotch. She removes her mouth to take a breath “That bicep of yours is perfection. If you were any bigger you wouldn’t fit in that 8x8’ foot mirror.” More kisses on my dick which is now so hard that it is sticking up out of my posing suit. “Everyone who sees your massive size must fantasize about getting to feel up your muscles. I know I would if I didn’t have them all to myself.” She takes my posing suit off, then starts sucking my shaft in earnest. But every few strokes she comes off and continues to talk me up: “Come on baby, come for me. Explode with pleasure at the sight of your perfect muscles. They are a wonder of the world.” I’m close to orgasming now, Katie is giving me the best blow job of my life. And Katie’s comments are the exact thing I want to hear. This is all I’ve ever wanted, to be the biggest, most muscular person on the planet. Not just so other people would stare at me, but so I could stare at MYSELF. Because there is nothing hotter than muscle. And I have the most muscle in the world! With those thoughts, and my reflection in the mirror running through my head I come like I’ve never come before. I shoot an enormous load into Katie’s mouth and she swallows the whole thing like a champ. She then stands up, places her arms around me (well actually her arms won’t wrap all the way around me because my back is too big) and we embrace. The two of us are as happy as we’ve ever been. Thankful that I’ve been blessed with this gift of muscle, and thankful that we’ve found each other. The two of us then go to bed, Katie’s head resting on my massive Pecs. Right before we fall asleep, Katie whispers “and to think, you’re only just getting started…” I fall asleep with a hard on.

The Janitor’s Secret 　　　The sound of feet stomping and clawing against the floors mixed with the murmurs of the students passing by the college hallway. Henry the newly hired intern watched the students passing by his window office with envy in his eyes. How not too long ago he was one of them, a fresh eyed bunny going class to class thinking that after graduation he would be doing something meaningful with his degree. With a heavy sigh he turned his attention back to the outdated computer in front of him. He clicked his mouse furiously but to no avail, the computer was hanging again. 　　　“Ughh! Come on don’t do this to me now. I got to finish tonight or I’m screwed out of my bonus.” Smacking himself in the forehead for not saving fast enough, the ash brown bunny had enough and decided to get away from his desk. 　　　The other students and faculty members didn’t pay much attention to Henry as he walked towards the vending machine down the hall. It was just how he liked it, they didn’t bother him and he could hardly careless about them, though sometimes he wished he had someone to talk to while working, it would make the hours more bearable. Just as he reached the bright orange machine, he scanned through the displayed snacks and drinks only to be disappointed by one empty B5 slot. His favourite peppermint cola was sold out. Cursing the machine Henry grumbled to himself and made mad gesture to the air like he was punching some invisible force. 　　　“Hey, bunny boy,” a deep gruff voice called out to Henry from behind. 　　　He turned to face an older brown rabbit walking towards him, his hands behind his back like he was hiding something. It was the college’s janitor dressed in his dark green jumpsuit, a white patch on the right of his chest wrote “Jeff”. Henry was instantly drawn towards the thick light brown moustache covered Jeff’s upper lips giving the illusion that the bunny spoke through his moustache. 　　　“Looking for these?” He pulled out from behind two bright pink cans with a green mint tea design plastered on the centre. 　　　“Peppermint Cola!” Henry leapt into Jeff’s arms and hoisted the older bunny into the air by the hips, spinning him around as he celebrated his knight in green jumpsuit. As they spun the excited bunny missed a step and nearly tripped. 　　　“Woah, careful, careful. I don’t want to end up in the E.R. for getting tossed by a coke addicted bunny.” 　　　“Sorry.” Henry gently lowered Jeff back onto the ground. “Did they set up another vending machine in the college?" 　　　“Nah, I just passed by this one during my route and noticed there were only two cans left. And guess who I thought about right away.” 　　　“Aww, shucks you shouldn’t have. Hey, let me grab my sandwich from the office and I’ll meet you and at the usual spot.” 　　　Jeff nodded and walked away with the drinks in hand. Henry skipped back to his office with a song in his heart. His computer’s screen flickered for a few seconds before projecting a completely blue screen, but Henry didn’t have time for it. Just as he was about to step out the office again a shrill female voice called out to him. “Henry! Henry, I’m talking to you!” 　　　Chills ran down the bunny’s spine. He was so close to getting away. Turning back there was no one there, but that was nothing new. The head clerk had her own room while Henry worked the desk job where all the students can come and go. “Henry, where are the test results I asked you to key in for the new semester?” She asked again. 　　　“It’s a work in progress. The dumb computer is acting up again, I can’t do anything about it.” Henry yelled back towards the door of the head clerk. 　　　“That’s no excuse Henry, get IT to check,” her voice answered back. 　　　“I did. They came in earlier and said they can’t do anything about it, and we don’t have any spare computer’s left.” 　　　“Well, I hope you figure out a way out of this Mr. Henry. It’s your head on the line if you don’t fix this mess.” 　　　Henry growled on the inside, his ears stood up and his bunny tail did an unnoticeable swish. Still he managed to hide the rage in his voice. “I’ll get to it when I’m back Ms. June. I’m just out to get my lunch. 　“Make sure you do.” 　　　He grabbed the brown paper bag he stuffed into his drawer and headed back to meet Jeff. 　　　Henry was rummaging through the bag making sure he did have the ham and cheese sandwich he made for Jeff earlier in the morning. It was a weird experience for the bunny to cook a piece of meat, usually the bunny kind were vegetarian, not that there weren’t a few omnivores in the crowd. When Henry first saw Jeff eating a whole hoagie he was only mildly surprised. Having an odd diet seemed to fit Jeff’s already odd long ears and the fact that he had a Ph.D. in Genetic Engineering but ended up working as a janitor. 　　　From a distance Henry could see Jeff sitting in their usual spot, a metal table and two chairs tucked in the corner of an empty hallway. Two plastic plants blocked the window behind the seat giving their place a nice cool atmosphere. The older bunny had unzipped his jumpsuit down the front middle, exposing his firm and fit body hidden under his thin white t-shirt he wore underneath. Henry gulped, his eyes widened at the sight of the mature beefcake in front of him nonchalantly browsing his phone, not noticing the growing tent in Henry’s pants. 　　　Henry quickly took a seat. “Sooo, here’s the sandwich I promised” He pulled out the aluminium wrapped snack and placed it close to Jeff. 　　　Jeff tapped a few buttons on his phone before putting it away. “Thanks man,” said Jeff as he unwrapped his meal, “so you catch the documentary I recommended last night?” 　　　Henry was caught off guard with a bite of the sandwich in his mouth. “Mmm,” he swallowed, “not really, I got home pretty late and by then I just wasn’t in the mood for another lecture.” “Really? How tiring can it be to sit behind a desk and type long boring reports?” Jeff asked with a sarcastic tone. 　　　“Pff, well not all of us can have an easy job wiping off paint from the lockers.” Henry took another bite of his sandwich with a sly smile. 　　　“Don’t remind me, the thing still won’t come off, and I know for sure there is a pool right underneath the locker that I have to deal with all on my own, it’s going to take the whole night!” 　　　“Better you than me,” Henry replied, “is that how you stay in shape? Cause seriously how do you keep up that bod?” 　　　“You really want to know?” Jeff pulled his seat closer to Henry, he leaned close, their face just inches away. Henry nodded. “Then you got to watch that documentary,” Jeff announced to a confused looking Henry, “You’ll understand once you see it. Anyways here, these are for you.” Jeff placed the two cans of cola on the table. 　　　“Wait, you don’t want one?” Henry asked 　　　“Nah, I got them for you. One of your two favourite things in the world, this and, “Jeff leaned in close to whisper, “huge muscular guys.” 　　　Henry blushed, “You make it sound so dirty.” 　　　“Well muscle fetish is rare but not the oddest fetish in the world. That’s why I told you to watch that documentary?” Jeff ate up the rest of his sandwich. 　　　“No way, you mean it’s a documentary on muscles?” Henry asked, his eyes widened with excitement. 　　　“Well no, but it’s related,” Jeff replied, “anyways I got to head off, my lunch break got cut in half today anyways. I got a massive spill up to clear courtesy of the Cullinary club. See you later kiddo.” 　　　“Bye,” Henry waved as he watched the janitor head off. He looked at the two cans of cola and thought to himself, “Jeff is so sweet. Would he… would he ever want to be with me?” The young rabbit had long developed a crush on the older custodian, but never had the guts to tell him about it. What with the age difference, and how wise Jeff was, Henry never thought himself good enough for him. But still, he found peace with just imagining one day being with the older bunny. 　　　The rest of the day passed by at a breakneck pace. Henry ran up and down trying to find someone who had a spare computer he could use, but to no avail, so he had to beg the lecturer that needed the report and managed to buy himself another few days at least. 　　　His shirt was a mess with sweat stains and the wrinkles of the day. Henry stared blankly at the ceiling having just completed a stack of invitation letters that his superior so graciously forgot to tell him to do earlier. His eyelids felt heavy. His stomach growled angrily. “What tine is it?” he pulled out his phone. “8:20 p.m. Yeah I think that’s a good time to head back.” 　　　Henry turned off the office lights and started his march down to the ground floor. The escalators were out, so they were practically overpriced stairs. To make matters worse, every floor was dimly lit with the most minimum of light possible, so half the time Henry was walking through darkness. Fortunately, he had his phone’s flashlight to guide him. When he came upon the first floor he heard the sound of metal clanking, it came from further within the hallway-near the student lockers. The bunny wondered if that could be Jeff still working on the locker clean-ups, if so he would want to say goodbye to the old guy first. Henry turned towards the hallway on his left and noticed Jeff facing the entrance under the orange light. The janitor bunny didn’t seem to notice Henry hiding behind the side of the door. To the right of Jeff was his bucket and mop leaning against the wall. 　　　“Hey Je-“” Henry’s voice faded into silence when he saw Jeff grimacing, his hands formed into fists. His first thought was to rush over and help Jeff, he looked like he was in pain. Then the weirdest thing happened, he saw Jeff slowly growing taller and taller. “What the hell?” Henry whispered. 　　　As Jeff grew closer to reaching the 8-foot-tall ceiling. The sounds of fabric stretching and tearing echoed through the empty hallway. Henry’s jaw dropped when he saw Jeff’s chest expand and fill until they were the size of two huge watermelons. The sudden shift in size caused his zipper to fall all the way down releasing his heaving pectorals. Even his white shirt underneath gave in and tore down the middle exposing the juicy, muscular pecs and his large erect nipples. The sleeves of his jumpsuit tried keep up with his growing arms, bulging and stretching as his biceps and triceps engorged with size, slowly getting bigger and bulkier causing holes to tear on his sleeves. Jeff moaned, and kissed his right bicep now larger than his own head. “Fuck, yes! More!” he erotically said, his voice now deeper. With a guttural growl Henry watched as Jeff’s shoulders grew in length, blocking out the back of the hallway. Jeff’s eyes were mad with power, he threw his head upwards showing his thickening neck, with one deep vein visible even under his fur. Henry nearly yelped when he saw the janitor’s traps suddenly enlarge and even encompass the rabbit’s neck, until he looked like he had no neck at all. 　　　Then came his legs, ballooning with thickness. The growth spread from his thighs down to his calves, which literally exploded off the lower part of his jumpsuit. His shoes followed suit, breaking off into pieces of fibre as the bunny’s gargantuan paws burst free. Down the older rabbit’s right thigh it looked like a snake was slithering down. Jeff dug his meaty fingers into his jumpsuit and pulled out his hefty melon size balls and the ‘snake’, a long pink member with an exposed tip. “YES!” Jeff let out. The growth was complete. 　　　Henry didn’t understand was going on, but the stiffness in his groin kept him watching. His hand reached down and started to grope his hard dick through his pants. 　　　The janitor was a hulk of his former self. With ever movement the top of his head would graze the ceiling. The muscular janitor turned towards the row of lockers. He stretched his arms out and managed the grab both sides of the stack of lockers. Jeff spread his legs out, letting his balls dangle freely, and with a grunt he lifted the lockers into the air. Henry gasped. The gigantic muscle rabbit shifted a bit and placed the lockers further away along the hallway. He turned his now V shaped back, with deep groves running down them towards Henry, still oblivious to his adoring fan. The janitor clapped his hands and grabbed the mop. 　　　Henry wondered what other feats of strength would the senior rabbit do? Will he break the mop? No- he just dipped it into his bucket and started mopping the floor. An anti-climatic ending to what Henry had witnessed earlier, he smacked himself on the forehead in disbelief. A slap so loud that it perked the ears of the overgrown janitor. 　　　“Who’s there?” his deep voice commanded to know as he turned to face the door. 　　　Thoughts of fleeing and surrendering himself to his friend raced through Henry’s horned up brain, and in that horned up manner he made the stupid choice-to run. Henry ran the opposite direction, and with each step he felt the ground shook, Jeff was after him! 　　　Henry made a quick turn to the left into the men’s room, and hid in the first stall. He placed a hand over his mouth and cursed himself for trapping himself. The shaking grew stronger with every passing second. He shuddered at the sound of the toilet door slamming open followed by the frustrated grunt of Jeff. “Fucking hell, why didn’t they make bigger toilet doors,” Jeff complained. 　　　The walls shook with the sounds of Jeff slamming himself through the doorway. If he wasn’t scared shitless Henry might have enjoyed seeing that. With one final push Jeff broke through, and some pieces of the doorway too. “Make it easy on yourself and come out! I can rip these stalls apart with one hand. Now show yourself, I know you saw the whole thing…Henry!” Jeff said, his back against the doorway to prevent another escape attempt. 　　　Henry opened the stall door and stepped out slowly. He held his hands together, and his shoulders caved in like a nervous high schooler about to ask the girl of his dreams out to the prom. He took a quick peek upwards and saw the tip of Jeff’s nose past his pecs. “Shit, that’s hot!” Henry thought. The front of his pants was in full mass, but there was no point in hiding it anymore, he probably was going to be killed off for knowing too much. 　　　The scared rabbit looked up again and started to speak. “Before you kill me- I just have one thing to say-“ 　　　“Henry,” Jeff tried to interrupt. 　　　“I am more useful to you alive than dead. For one thing if I die, you have a bigger mess to clean up-” 　　　“Henry,listen to-“ 　　　“And, it’s not like I am going to tell anyone. I mean a janitor turns into a muscle giant, who would believe that-“ 　　　“Henry!” 　　　“And I will do whatever you say. I’ll be your loyal slave, Igor, sidekick, whatever. Please just don’t kill me-” 　　　“HENRY! I’M NTO GOING TO KILL YOU” 　　　“Ok, just butt fuck me to death at least! Err, what?” 　　　The colossal bunny laughed, and pushed Henry against his titanic chest, practically suffocating the tiny guy. “I’m not mad ok. I’m actually glad you found out about my research,” Jeff said. 　　　Henry pulled his head up and looked into his giant captor’s eyes. “This was your research? Oh my gosh, it’s so cool.” 　　　Jeff had a cocky smile plastered on his face. He signalled Henry to wait. And in a blink of an eye grew again, ripping apart his jumpsuit into tiny pieces of rag on the floor. The muscle bunny was naked like a new born baby. 　　　“Yeah you like it? Instantaneous muscle growth,” Jeff released Henry and pulled his arms up into a double bicep pose, “I can control how big I get just like that. You like?” 　　　“Hell yeah! You-you’re like my muscle wet dream. Those arms!” Henry said leaping with joy as he pointed as Jeff’s arms. 　　　“Oh yeah, these babies can lift a house if I try to, give it a feel,” Jeff crouched down and Henry happily accepted the invite and pressed his fingers deep into Jeff’s bicep but it barely moved. 　　　“Fuck,” Henry exclaimed. 　　　“What do you think of these?” Jeff placed his hands on his hips and jutted out his chest. 　　　Henry buried his face between Jeff’s pecs and moterboated them. “They’re perfect” he said though muffled by fur and muscle. 　　　Jeff laughed heartily and stood back up in his full height. He turned his back and gave the largest lat spread Henry very saw in his history of watching porn. “What about these buns?” Jeff shook his bubble butt and cotton tail. 　　　“I could eat them all day,” Henry said as he approached and cupped the firm glutes in his smaller hands. He also noticed that Jeff had a white patch on the middle off his butt. 　　　Jeff could Henry’s boner poking against this ass, the bigger rabbit then wiggled his ass until Henry’s boner stuck between his ass cheeks. Henry moaned and his face turned a deep shade of red. “Jeff, what are you?” 　　　The muscle rabbit placed his thick hands against the doorway and started riding the trapped dick as best he could. Jeff’s body craved it, every fibre of his body wanted to pleasure Henry and to have his warmth inside of him. 　　　“Jeff, stop!” Henry pulled his dick out, now with a big wet spot on the front. 　　　“What?” Jeff turned back, looming menacingly over Henry. The older rabbit’s dick was hard as a rock, and came up to his stomach. A thick odour of musk washed over the smaller rabbit, and he could feel his dick ready to burst at any second. 　　　“You still don’t want me? What’s wrong? I did this for you! Am I not big enough? Cause I can get huge!” Jeff was coming closer and closer to Henry, forcing him to back away to the back of the wall. The older rabbit’s dick shuddered as Jeff moved forward. 　　　“TELL ME,” Jeff bent down his face a mix of rage and sadness. Henry never saw him like this before. 　　　“No, no. You got it all wrong. I like this, I like you. Just I pictured our first time would be a bit more romantic?” 　　　“Oh,” Jeff retreated back, he wiped the back of his neck. “Sorry, I, err this form kind of makes me more easily aroused and aggressive.” 　　　Henry nodded. The larger bunny then took Henry’s hands and held them. “I would really like to try again if you would give me the chance.” 　　　“Of course, and well… I wouldn’t say no to the bigger proposal,” Henry replied. 　　　“You size queen. Now come on, I think you had a bit too much excitement for one night. I’ll message you soon, and yeah, let’s go on a date,” Jeff said. 　　　“Totally.” Henry beamed with excitement. He broke their hand holding moment and was off. 　　　He still could not believe what had just happened. On the bus ride home, he expected to suddenly wake up and everything would reveal itself to be a dream, but it didn’t happen. Just as the bus pulled over he received a text from Jeff. Henry blushed and ran quickly inside his home, running past his sleeping big brother on the couch. 　　　Inside his room, he opened the text which had a picture attached. It was Jeff all muscled up with a his hardon. In his hand he was holding a trash can next to his member just for comparison. The dick was almost of equal length to the container. At the bottom, the caption read, “This can be in you if you just ask.” 　　　Henry sank back into his bed and smiled. He knows what he will be jerking off to tonight. To be continued… Do comment

Sorry to hear you're not getting the response you'd like from this forum, joeysilverado. I've enjoyed your work -- especially The Twenty -- and admit I don't post much feedback. With a long piece like The Twenty, I know that I get bogged down, don't read for a while, and then binge a bunch of chapters. And then I don't say much about the experience because I feel behind! Yes, I can be a lousy audience! Maybe other posters have similar experiences too? With The Twenty, specifically, I love any sections involving Casey, Sam, and Casey+Sam (especially!). The other characters are fine, but not as interesting or arousing to me. Moster is a good character to keep the plot moving and has had some great lines and moments, but I'm not invested in him on his own. Authoritarian and Sub/Dom aren't my favorite genres -- although I think you do these aspects well -- so I find myself reading those sections quickly to get to the muscle growth, worship, and gear fetish stuff. If you remove your work from the forum, I'll be sad to see it go, but as a writer (not of erotic fiction, but on other topics) I do understand where you're coming from. Thanks for all you've shared so far!

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!”

Part Two "And then a most muscular to finish" As both Larry and James flexed their pecs hard, James started to pant. "Yeah, yeah, yeah coach, I can feel it. Something deep down in me in coming to the surface. Something that is telling me that in three years I will be doing this on stage, getting the sort of reaction that you do now, and allowing me to win a trophy. Oh yeah, coach, tell me I can do that!" Larry smiled as he walked back to the gym's locker rooms knowing that the fairly unassuming lad he had taken under his wing a year ago who had come to him with a simple request of "I'd like to be stronger and more confident, please" now had the confidence needed to step onto a stage and pose, but as he did, James called after him "No, please, stay, I...I need you to see this" and with that resumed his flexing in the mirror. "Oh, the strength, the power, coursing through me" moaned James, "I...I...I need to test myself!" and instantly declared, "Arm wrestle, me, coach!" Larry nodded, knowing that once James had, what he dubbed "the scent of muscle" in his nostrils, nothing would stop him and so sitting down next to a counter top, he placed his hand ready. James grasped hold of his coach's hand and after readjusting his hold, Larry looked at James and said "Ready?" to which James just grunted and with that Larry pushed. Instantly, James started to grunt, resisting his coach's power with everything his bicep had to offer. As his arm wobbled, the grunting become more and more animalistic with James grunting "I'm resisting you, defeat me coach, defeat me" and yet Larry's arm remained absolutely static. After nearly thirty second, James conceded but as Larry stood up, James moaned "Thanks, coach, that's worthy of another lift" and with that wrapped his arms around his coach's pecs, stood ready and counted to three lifting his coach for five seconds. As James lowered him to he ground, he moaned "Coach, can I...can I sit on you whilst you do as many pushups as you can?" Larry consented and as James sat on his coach's back, he wrapped his hands around the now hardened pecs and grunted "Lift". Larry took a deep breath and performed three perfectly formed pushups which made James groan "Forgive me, coach, I'm..." and with that he managed to catch the cum that he expelled. As he wiped his hands on a cloth he grunted "Lift me, coach, you're the strongest little man I know", however as Larry wrapped his arms around James's waist he expressed a concern that he wouldn't be able to, concerns that James dismissed as "lulling me into a false sense of security" but as Larry lifted the roar of power he exuded only lasted a second before he panted "I can't, you're too tall" James's world collapsed around him. His coach, capable of 122% bodyweight bench presses, capable of lifting him on his back in a push up and the man who was the strongest man he had ever met couldn't lift him up and all because of his height. Turning around James apologised to which Larry replied "It doesn't matter, there's nothing can be done about it" however from that moment on James was determined. Larry would pick him up and hold him for as long as he could, one way or the other.

Umm, what they said! Please, sir, may I have some more???

Hey all, I am on long Island. Into building muscle.

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.

I too want more

With speed that made the cheeks of the guerilla guard push back as if he were traveling on some kind of rocket ship going through the layers of the atmosphere, Antoine jogged to catch up with the two guys who had recently departed like bats out of hell. As Mr. Alpha and the small man caught up, then passed the other two men – clearly at such a speed that they could not even be detected – Antoine’s new friend stared at his two comrades running at full throttle beside him. It was like a slow motion movie. They had no idea he was right there watching them. Antoine easily ran a few yards ahead of the two fellows. He then stood his small friend, whose head was still spinning from the supersonic run, in front of him – with his own big arms under the guard’s and his massive palms facing out. The small guard looked like he had supersized forearms and paws as big as hubcaps. Antoine knew exactly what he was doing. He had moved so fast that the two runners had no time to stop before suddenly seeing their friend and the huge muscleman appear before them. They ran smack into Antoine’s palms with full force. The guard between the big man’s arms got a bull’s eye view of the entire thing. He noticed that Mr. Alpha’s hands didn’t budge even a fraction of a centimeter or whatever would be the smallest amount of measurement – basically they didn’t move. He also witnessed his two guerilla buddies bouncing off the big palms as if they had run into a wall of stone or something thicker and stronger. Next thing, he saw the two men sitting on the ground dazed and confused. They had no idea how the giant and their comrade had appeared out of nowhere. They both assumed it was magic. “And now, my little oh-hell-your-crotch-is-already-hard-again friend, let’s show you what it feels like to manhandle grown men as if they were small dolls.” Antoine cupped his big hands around the backs of those that belonged to the guy standing in front of him – interlocking his huge fingers between those of the little man. Then, moving the guy like he was nothing more than a puppet, Antoine bent down and grabbed both men by the front of their uniform – being careful not to crush the small guy’s hands at the same time. Then, Mr. Alpha lifted up – a little too high at first – and took all three men off the ground. He definitely wanted his little friend to feel powerful so he bent his legs, returning his accomplice’s feet to the ground. This action gave much pleasure, just as Antoine had planned. The small guy felt as if he were lifting the two other guys off the ground. Antoine spoke, without moving his lips, a ventriloquist with his dummy. “Okay, you bad, bad men. It took nothing for me to stop you. I am Mr. Ecuador and you two are now my playthings. What do you say to that? Ah, I see the little cat has got your tongue. Maybe I can shake some sense into you.” Antoine shook his hands, which made it seem like his little partner was shaking his hands, which made the two men flop around vigorously. Both men let out yelps that made it sound like there were in a vehicle going down a very bumpy road. Antoine could tell his little friend loved the charade of feeling like he was super powerful. Even when Antoine stopped shaking and the fellow’s bodies stopped flopping around it was clear the insides of their head were still spinning. The ventriloquist continued. “You bad men have made me angry. You’re not going to like me when I’m angry. See how I lift you with no effort at all? You’re both as light as a feather – and that’s when you’re combined. It’s taking no strength at all to pick you both up. Oh what to do with my light little playthings. Well, first, let’s toss you both in the air – you know, like a grown man might do to a toddler. One, two, three, upsy-daisy!” Antoine didn’t use much strength to send the two men upward – he didn’t want to send them through the ozone or anything. Having them top out at the tips of the trees was enough. The big man’s little puppet squealed with glee as their hands, together, seemed to make the men shoot off into the air like rockets. Screams of terror followed both men as they zoomed upward. Antoine glanced down at his friend and noticed a panicked look on the guy’s face. He clearly was worried if they’d be able to catch the two men on their journey back down. The big man chuckled; amazed that after all he had done the smaller man doubted his abilities. He knew something that would add a lot of pleasure to the fun they were having. “Stand on my feet, little friend.” The small guy did as he was told and immediately noticed it was like stepping into skis. Antoine’s booted feet were about five sizes bigger than those of the other guy. The smaller man looked back up at the muscled stud, with a face of both shock and admiration. Antoine smiled back, since he knew what the guy was thinking. “Yep, it’s true what they say, bud. I swing a bat so big the airlines make me pay for an extra seat. That is, if I needed to take airplanes.” With that statement Antoine, along with the guy standing on his enormous feet, flew up into the air. They simply levitated as if some big crane was lifting them upward – except there were no cables and there certainly wasn’t a crane. That’s when the superhero and his friend heard the screams of the two men falling back to earth. Antoine, still cupping the other guy’s hands, reached out and they caught both guerrillas as they zoomed past. Both men continued to scream even after they came to an abrupt stop. It took them a few seconds to realize they still weren’t falling. Antoine started to speak, but his little friend cleared his throat – making it clear he no longer needed someone to supply the dialogue. Antoine looked down, amused, as the guy spoke in a voice similar to the one Antoine had made earlier. “You enjoy the ride, little men? Maybe now, you understand what power I have. I think it is time I let your feet feel ground again. Careful, though, that first step is a . . . what do we call it, oh yeah . . . a doozey.” Antoine started laughing – both, at the little guy’s imitation of him and at what he was planning. The big man knew exactly what to do, but he took his cue from his new friend. As soon as the smaller man released his grip, so did Antoine. Both men immediately dropped to the ground. It was less than twelve feet down, but it shocked the hell out of the two guys, who thought that Antonio and his friend had been firmly on the earth – not floating above it. Antoine descended back down and re-grabbed the men by their shirts. Sirens had been going off at the main house for a few minutes. Soon, the guerillas would try to open the vault in the cellar. These two jerks needed to be taken care of. Antoine looked down at his friend. “I know the pool’s pretty far away, but do you want to see me hit a hole in one with both of these guys?” “Yes, please.” “Oh . . . and do you happen to know which is the deep end?” “No.” “Well, let’s hope I guess right. I think they usually put the deep end away from the house.” While still holding on to the two captives with just his fingers, Antoine released his friend’s hands and then spread out his monstrous arms. The smaller man stepped off Mr. Alpha’s giant feet – shivering at the thought of the tool that matched their size – and stepped a few feet away. Antoine held the two men in the air as he turned his super gaze toward the pool – a long way away. There were trees and buildings to be avoided in the path to the pool. Antoine calculated everything quickly and then turned back to his waiting, excited friend. “One at a time or both together?” The little guy’s mouth dropped open wide – as if throwing two men at the same time would be that much harder than one. But, somehow, it just impressed him more. He meekly held up two fingers – as if he were begging Antoine to do what the huge man already wanted to do. There was no way to not notice the growing wet spot at the smaller man’s crotch – he was clearly unable to contain his admiration for Antoine’s strength. The muscle man flicked one guy into he air and as he came down he caught him with his big palm in the midsection. Antoine then flicked the other guy into the air and caught him on the back of the first guy. They were now stacked like a couple of pancakes in Antoine’s huge upturned hand. Mr. Alpha then went into the stance of a javelin thrower and cocked his giant arm back – only stopping when he heard his little friend clear his voice and point toward the pool in the other direction. “Oh, that way? You mean you didn’t want me to throw them around the earth and have them enter the pool from the other angle?” The guerilla’s face turned white and his eyes grew as big as saucers. This idea was almost too much for the little guy to handle. Antoine could see the guy trying to figure out if this supposed feat was even possible. He turned to face toward the pool and cocked back the big arm holding the two men in the air. He motioned to his friend to use the binoculars attached to his belt – the little guy having forgotten all about them in his excitement. As soon as Antoine got the thumbs up that his pal was focused on the pool, the giant muscle man pumped his arm in the air sending the two bodies soaring. The two men stayd connected for most of the flight – only separating right before they landed smack middle of what was clearly the deep end of the pool, which was far away near the house. The look of astonishment and awe on the small guerilla’s face as he looked up at Antoine almost made the big man blush. The muscleman held up his giant paw to high five the little man – forgetting he was so tall that the dude would have to jump up to make his palm hit Antoine’s. “Would you call that two holes in one or a hole in two’s. I’m not sure. All I know is I just threw two men into a pool that’s about six football fields away. Pretty awesome, huh. Oh, let me bring that high five down, for you, bud.” Antoine lowered his hand. When he went to smack palms with his small friend, however, he used way to much force and he sent the guy flying backwards about two feet and immediately worried that he had broken the dude’s arm. He quickly stepped over and lifted the man off the ground. “Damn, little friend, I’m so sorry about that. I just constantly forget how weak other guys are. I really do. I just assume everyone can toss two grown men like it was nothing or fold up a machine gun as easily you would a piece of paper. It’s only when I send a guy sailing through two backflips in the air because of a simple high-five I remember how awesomely strong I really am. You’d think all these really huge muscles would help me to remember, but I don’t. That arm of yours okay?” The smaller man nodded his head up and down, loving the fact that his feet were nowhere near the ground as Antoine easily held him in the air. The guard was busy shaking out his hand and arm that was still stinging a little from what was clearly a light tap from Antoine, but had sent the guy tumbling through the air. It was getting more and more difficult to wrap his head around just how much power this huge almost-naked muscleman had in his body. Suddenly there was a noise that made both men turn their attention to nearby. What appeared in the road made Antoine let out a roar of pure joy. “Oh hell yeah! They sent a tank! And it’s about to fire. Sorry about this, dude, but I really want to protect you so we can have some more fun together. Hold on to the branch until this is over.” With that statement, Antoine tossed the man skyward. He went sailing up with perfect aim and just enough force to land on the limb of a huge tree about three stories up. The dude immediately grabbed hold of the wood to pull his body up so he could sit and watch the fun below. He looked like an innocent chipmunk peering down on some hikers. Antoine turned to look at the slow moving tank – shortening the distance between them. Suddenly the sound of the tank going off made Antoine’s poser’s throb noticeably. The big man was finally getting to see the kind of action he had longed for. With lightning speed, Antoine raised his hand and caught the speeding weapon that was intended for mass destruction. He looked down and smiled. “Aw, a kinetic energy penetrator – the kind of ammunition designed to penetrate vehicle armor. Finally, these guys are starting to think like intelligent villains. Not that this thing could hurt me, but I’m so glad they upped their anti. I should have let it hit my chest, too – just to watch it flatten against my skin and then fall to the ground. How about some one handed destruction instead.” Antoine held up the large bullet-like contraption in one giant paw. He wanted to make sure his friend, above, in the tree, whatever team was in the tank, and whoever was watching with their binoculars from the house, saw his little display. His fingers pulled the sturdy metal beam on both ends, making the thing immediately bend, as if it were just a straw or something. He then continued to pull in and crush whatever was in the way. It felt so good to easily destroy something he knew could rip through a tank or the side of an armored truck. Soon, the penetrator was nothing more than a glob of demolished steal – or whatever it was made of. Antoine let it drop to the ground. His little display caused the friend in the tree above to moan loudly in appreciation. It also gave the tank time to reload and fire another weapon. This time the sound was different and Antoine anticipated it was some kind of intense explosive. In nothing more than a second the big man made a choice and, again, caught the missile with his hand. He knew he had only a fraction of a fraction of a second for his intended goal, so he moved his arm as fast as he could. As soon as he caught the speeding thing he quickly pulled it down to his crotch, having opened his posers with his other hand. He shoved the explosive down against all his huge junk right as the thing went off. The huge hand covered everything, thankfully, so the posers weren’t ruined. The impact of the blast simply rocked against Antoine’s ample package. Antoine threw his head back and moaned loudly, himself. “Aw hell yeah, almost as good as beating off. The best foreplay ever! I wonder if two or three of those things at the same time could make me spurt?” When the elastic band at the top of the posers snapped back into place, smoke still seeped out of Antoine’s crotch. The missile-like hard-on underneath the fabric looked a hell of a lot more powerful than the missile or the penetrator that had been shot off by the tank. For a few seconds the need for sexual release clouded Antoine’s mind and he thought about using his tool specifically for mass destruction of the tank – but quickly calmed himself down and decided against it. He knew that Marty would flip out if the internet go hold of videos where he was plowing a tank. Not a wholesome image for Mr. Alpha. The moans had grown louder from the guy up in the tree and Antoine didn’t even have to look up to know the guy was going to town with himself as he watched all the action. The huge man anticipated some thick gooey rainfall before the tank was destroyed. “Don’t fall, little man. The fun has just begun. Let’s open that thing like a can of sardines. I’m thinking it’s about time for another missile.” Sure enough, the men in the tank had loaded another explosive and shot the thing at Antoine as he slowly advanced in their direction. The superhero was, again, perplexed by their stupidity. Had they not seen what he had done to the first two things they had shot at him. Did they think the third time was their lucky charm? For the second time today he marveled at how slow the bad guys were at picking up on things. Antoine remembered another time when three thieves were trying to get away in their SUV and he had easily picked the entire vehicle up off the ground – holding it in the air at chest level looking at the guys through the front windshield. He was holding the entire thing in the air, not just the front end or something. But the driver kept his foot firmly against the gas pedal, with the thing slammed to the floor – as if by some sort of magic the car would catch some traction on air molecules and take off. Antoine continued to hold the car up off the ground and the slow-to-the-take driver continued to gun the thing until it ran out of gas. The bad guys actually used up all of their fuel thinking their luck would change any moment. When Antoine dropped the car to the ground he almost laughed himself silly as he watched the three thieves frantically lock all the doors. To show off and to avoid the locked doors Antoine just shoved his hands into the front of the car and started ripping the thing into two halves down the middle. Finally, the windshield shattered and the big man had pried the SUV apart all the way to the front seat. The three men simply offered their guns to the muscled giant and gave up. And now, the men in the tank seemed destined for the same lesson. Antoine let the incoming missile blast into his abs, absorbing the explosion with what felt like nothing more than an itch. “Thanks for the stomach exercise fellas! I’m not sure your little weapons are going to help these tight puppies get any stronger, but it sure is fun to deflect missiles with my tummy! Let’s first cause a little tornado in your little hiding place.” By this point, Antoine was right in front of the tank. He was so big that his face was pretty even with the tank gun. He brought his lips to the opening, took a deep breath, and then let out a super exhale. He immediately heard multiple bangs on the inside of the tank and he knew he had sent whoever was inside sailing across the compartment into the other side. Antoine paused for a second and heard what were probably a few bodies falling to the floor after the air pressure had been released. The big man then inhaled deeply, keeping his mouth pressed against the opening. Those same bodies probably came zooming to the side nearest Antoine because of the super suction. When he stopped sucking, again there was the sound of things falling to the inside floor. Mr. Alpha spoke down the barrel of the long gun. “You fellas okay? I heard the weather report for inside this tank was really nasty today. I also had a lot of garlic at lunch – sorry about that. And get this, that was me blowing lightly. Just imagine what I could do if I really let out some air. I could probably make all the islands of Hawaii join each other. That would be something, wouldn’t it? So, let’s open this little present and see what I win as my prize, today.” Antoine brought his head back and then placed his two thick forefingers into the barrel. He marveled at the fact that there wasn’t much room after that. He really did have enormous hands. Well, again, you know what they say – he thought to himself. He then started to pull and the end of the barrel snapped apart. Antoine kept pulling and the gun ripped apart as easily as if he had been peeling a banana. The monstrous dude whistled ‘Hi ho, hi ho, it’s off to work we go’ as he created a big bow with the tank gun. He squeezed the base of the thing and knew not even a drop of water was coming out of that nozzle. He stepped back to admire his work. It did look like a giant two-looped ribbon on top of the machine. He smacked his hands together as if he were knocking off dust – just to say ‘job well done.’ Mr. Alpha then jumped up onto the tank with a hard enough landing to rock the thing terribly. He imagined the men inside being knocked about. With one hand, Antoine reached down and slid his fingers into the ring – where the tank’s turret connected with the hull. His hulking hand grabbed underneath and he slowly started to pull. The metal screamed in protest – as if it had a choice in the matter. As easily as a kid takes off the foil top of a manufactured fruit bowl, big Antoine started tearing open the tank. “Papa’s home, boys! And he’s freaking huge and strong. Get ready! He’s here to play” On some level it hit Antoine what he was doing. He knew it was incredible that there was this super dude that was able to crush the armor of a tank with his hand. It registered that he was ripping apart some super strong combination of steel, titanium, and other metals like it was tissue. The turret started to warp as he easily pulled it away from the body of the tank. The perfect bow he had made bent from the tugging, as well. Within a minute, Antoine completely tore the plated armor apart and tossed the turret to the side. He gazed down in the tank and saw three uniformed guerillas – each with his fingers in his ears because of the loud screeching of the metal and each with a wet spot at his crotch because he had pissed himself in fear of the beast that was mutilating the tank with ease. “Hello fellas. I knocked, but nobody answered, so I thought I’d just let myself in. Wow, it smells like pee in here. I hope I didn’t frighten you, little men. I just thought it would be fun if I showed you how simple it was to rip a tank apart. It gave this big arm of mine a good workout. Just look at the pump Mr. Alpha got.” Antoine shot his arm up into a side biceps pose and flexed his gun hard. The thing ballooned to twice its normal huge size. All three men visually swallowed and their eyes shot wide. The big gun looked immortal – like something straight from Mount Olympus. Antoine was proud of his body. Even though he was a superhero he had continued to lift, exercise, eat right, and sculpt his muscles into something that was more than just fit. He always wanted to have the kind of bulges that made women and men swoon. Antoine had never been picky about who admired or lusted after him. At first, the desired bulges had been all about looking good in some super cool spandex superhero costume, but as Antoine curled bulldozers and benched battleships he saw his muscles grow into something that surely could not be covered. When performing super feats, the big man wanted to impress – but he also wanted people to freak out about his body as much as they did about the amount of weight he was lifting or the indestructible thing he was easily manhandling. Ripping apart a tank was just half the fun, he wanted the occupants to ooh and ah at his giant, rippling, hard-as-hell body, too. Antoine knew he was a narcissist – through and through. He decided, however, that came with the territory. At age ten he had been able to win a tug of war contest against every grown man and boy in his small town – every last one of them. This was almost too much for a young lad to comprehend. Antoine’s mom had made sure he didn’t get too big for his britches – well, metaphorically speaking. He outgrew his clothes by the month. His mom had always been able to help keep Antoine in check and see his powers as a gift . . . a ‘blessing’ is what she’d call them. Out of respect and love for his mom, who still called him at least three times a week, Antoine had limited his self-praise and the much needed gawking at his own body for when he was in front of criminals or alone. Today seemed like a good day for some self-admiration. “Look at that flesh-covered mountain, boys! Have you ever seen something so huge and powerful? I’ll take your silence as confirmation that you have not. My flexed gun is bigger than all three of your right arms put together. And did you see how your powerful tank gave into this one arm? I bet you three thought you were all safe and snug in your little machine, didn’t you. It must have been scary as hell . . . or maybe hot has hell to see four fingers suddenly poke through the armor like it was just some tinfoil and then to see sunlight start streaming in as this giant hand started ripping a hole that got bigger and bigger until the entire weak turret had been separated from the hull. And then to see big old me – all full of tensed glistening muscles – toss the thing to the side like it was a piece of crumpled paper . . . well that must have been something glorious. And now look at this flexed biceps, fellas. This thing just screams power, doesn’t it? If Helen had a face that launched a thousand ships, then Mr. Alpha has biceps that will launch a thousand orgasms. I need to show off a little more for you fellas, okay? Besides, there’s way too much of this tank still in recognizable condition. I’m coming in, boys.” The ripped apart opening that Antoine had made was definitely bigger than the little metal trap door that had been the entrance, but it was still pretty small compared to the super wide upper body of the muscleman. Unless the opening became bigger, Mr. Alpha would not be able to squeeze inside the tank. Also, because Antoine’s thighs were so huge, room for the three men underneath became restricted. As if he knew he needed to make some more light for the dark cavity, Antoine placed his hands on the inside metal ring that had held the turret in place. He had one arm on one side of his body and the second on the other side. Antoine imagined he was Hercules or Samson with his hands placed on two giant columns holding up the palace. He started to straighten his arms – his outward turned palms moving away from his shoulders. Tanks were never made with the thought that some man . . . some super man would come and play with them as if they were nothing more than Styrofoam. As Antoine’s elbows straightened out he easily deformed the well planned, intentionally made sides of the tank. The armor bent outward from the pressure of Antoine’s push and the metal screeched like a bunch of wild monkeys being pursued by a lion. Deforming the titanium and steel mix was as easy for Antoine as pushing on a sheet hanging from a clothesline might be for someone else. The opening got wider than Antoine’s shoulders and the body of the tank was now majorly deformed. Mr. Alpha stopped and turned his body sideways. Again, he placed his big paws on the inside rim of the tank’s hull and started pushing. The opening easily expanded that way, as well. The mid-section of the tank was now unrecognizable. It actually looked like some kind of army-sanctioned convertible – the opening wide enough for Antoine and all three men to easily stand and leave lots of extra room, as well. The big man looked at his palm and finger indentions along side of the metal rim – beaming at how easy it had been to make supposed indestructible metal do his bidding. “That’ll never get old for me, fellas. Taking something supposedly so strong . . . so powerfully made that people cannot fathom it being destroyed by anything other than mega ton bombs and manhandling it like a kid playing with clay. I just put my big paw against stone, metal, titanium – whatever – and push – loving the way whatever it is can’t stand up against my strength and it submits so easily. I love it mostly when metal screams in defeat. It’s as if the molecules of the steel are saying ‘this isn’t possible’ or ‘how in the hell can a man be so powerful?’ Surely something makes you fellas feel the same way? Maybe you get a rush in your southern region when you shoot off this thing that used to be a tank. Did watching something explode give you a thrill? Did it make you feel powerful? Well, little men, that’s the same feeling I get when I tear your tank apart with my bare hands as if it were paper. Mr. Alpha loves saving the world, but – to tell you the truth – I love showing off more. I love getting to use my strength without worrying about what I might break or what might get destroyed. A man like me shouldn’t have to live with restrictions. You see what I’m saying?” The three guerillas stared up at the giant muscled man who was leaning up against the tank opening he had manipulated wider with just a few pushes. It wasn’t clear how much of what Mr. Alpha said they understood, but it was clear that they were filled with fear and awe at his super strength. Antoine had folded his enormously muscled arms across his chest, barely able to bring them together in that way because of his bulging biceps, and had glanced down to the fellas with his questions. Not one man moved. It was as if they had not heard anything Antoine had said since he had ripped open the tank. They only stared at his arms – in probably the same way they had stared at the tank the first time they had been allowed to fire it. It was definitely true what they said about most men – they loved power. Before today, getting behind the gun of this tank had probably felt like the most powerful thing these guys could have ever experienced. Fortunately, that had all been wiped away as soon as they met Mr. Alpha. Now their tank seemed so insignificant . . . their ammunition so puny . . . and their own bodies so tiny and weak. They had now been introduced to a strength that was unimaginable just an hour ago. Each man suddenly had memories from childhood of famous wrestlers and superheroes that had existed only in comic books or on television. Now meeting the real thing changed their perspective on the world. Their intense desire to help some ‘cause’ and join the rebel forces was immediately gone. If they had felt any kind of allegiance to their leader – probably presently scrambling into action somewhere in the big house – it had now disappeared. Arms the size of giant banana tree leaves and as strong as the men of entire nations put together had won them over instantly. They now had a new leader. Anyone who could take missiles to the chest like it had only been a drop of sweat hitting him or rip apart a tank in a way that made it clear he wasn’t using even a fraction of his strength was worthy of their service, if not their worship. Antoine could read all of this in their face. It was a look that he had become quite accustomed to. He instantly knew of their defection to the side of right and might. Most men, if given the choice, will choose the side of a battle that is going to win. It is part self-preservation and part awe of the victor’s power. In this case, Antoine knew he had swayed these three men to the side of good for the rest of their lives. The guerillas, now turned honest men, knew they would never meet anyone . . . or anything as strong as the huge muscled man in front of them. They were ready to do his bidding. “Aw fellas, you three are all looking like love sick puppy dogs. How can a superhero hold you accountable for your actions if it’s perfectly clear that you’d now follow my every order? It’s quite clear you’ve all left the dark side for good. I get the feeling you’ll do things like run for political office in the future, clean up the crime in your local towns, and one day set aside a special ‘Mr. Alpha Day’ just to commemorate the memory of our time together. How can I punish you anymore if it’s clear you three have joined the straight and narrow path just because I can fold up your little tank like it was just a small washed and dried rag? Hey, that gives me a fun idea. You guys want to see some more power?” Antoine’s new comrades immediately shook their heads up and down. Antoine reached out and grabbed two of the men by their uniform and then brought them together so he could hold them with one hand. He then grabbed the third guy with his free hand and lifted all of them out of the tank. He leaned over the side and placed the three guys on the ground. It didn’t go unnoticed by anyone how easily Mr. Alpha had done this. It was like moving three grown men was nothing more than an afterthought – something that could be done by anyone on any given day. Legs were wobbly – partially from being cramped up in the tank for a while, but mostly because the three men were still shocked by the muscular behemoth that lifted them like they were simply a toothbrush or something lighter. Antoine could tell that each man had fallen into what could only be described as a bromance with him. They watched his every move, sighed when a muscle bulged because he bent it, and looked at him with eyes that should have had hearts pumping out of them if this had been a cartoon. Mr. Alpha had to reach down and adjust his posers – having groups of men or women swooning like they were back in junior high with their first crush was such a turn on for him. Antoine felt like Cupid, except the unintended outcome of every arrow was instant infatuation of the big man, himself. This was not a problem, however. Antoine loved the attention. “Aw fellas, from the looks in your eyes I can tell I’m going to have to come to your village one day and spend an afternoon drinking beers and showing off. Am I right? No need to answer, I see it perfectly in every face. Gotta warn you in advance, I like my beer, so get ready to dole out some cash. It will take at least twenty to get me a little intoxicated – and I mean twenty cases. I have a feeling you three had figured out that when I’m a little tipsy I like to show off the most, right? Well, it’s true. Somewhere, in some manual, it probably says you should never feed a Gremlin after midnight, never go out on a date with a werewolf during a full moon, and never ever get a superhero drunk. Can’t lie to you bros, I love my beer. As you might have guessed I can drink an entire army under the table. But I turn into a muscle slut when I’m feeling good. There’s nothing I won’t do. If you want me to make you an animal out of a light pole from the highway, it’s done. You want me to stack twenty cars in a parking lot into a pyramid, no problem. You want me to go mess with an ex-bosses house by turning it around so he’s all confused when he comes out in the morning, I’ll be glad to help you. Not that I’ve ever done any of those things, I’m just telling you what could happen when we go out drinking together.” This clearly only made the men more bro-infatuated. Antoine lifted himself out of the tank like some gymnast dismounting a pommel horse. When he landed, the ground around them shook a little. The three men suddenly realized Mr. Alpha was not only huge, but his body was probably more thickly dense than anything they’d ever seen. As if to prove this theory, the biggest guy of the three now-turned-good guerillas walked over to Mr. Alpha, bent down, wrapped his arms around the superhero’s legs and attempted to lift up. Nothing moved even a slight bit. The guy took a deep breath, grabbed tighter, doubled his effort, and tried again. Attempting to move a mountain would clearly have been easier. The thickly muscled gargantuan demi-god in front of them wasn’t budging unless he wanted to. “Speeding trains, wrecking balls, bundles of dynamite, and the like have all tried and failed, too, good sirs. I’ve just packed on too much muscle, it seems. Even if your little kinetic penetrator that can bust through armor like this…” Antoine, without warning, shot his right arm out to the side and pounded through the metal side of the tank’s hull with one punch. This made the three men jump. The exact response Mr. Alpha had hoped for. “…still, it couldn’t begin to dent my muscles in even just a little bit. Hard to imagine, isn’t it, fellas – skin and muscles that are stronger than your tank. Speaking of this little plaything, here. I was thinking it’d be fun to compact this machine to something we could fit in a breadbox. You fellas game?” Again, it was pretty clear that none of the men full understood what Antoine was saying, but they could tell by the excitement in his voice that he wanted to show off and that was perfectly fine with them. Mr. Alpha was sure he had a lot more time, since it was going to take the bad guys up in the house a long time to get into the prison vault where they thought they still held the Ambassador and his family – that is, if they ever got in. The big man motioned for the three men to step back. He didn’t want anyone getting hurt. “Clearly, I need something pretty strong to help compact this tank and what’s stronger than the earth, itself? I know, I am, but besides me, fellas. I remember the first time I held a car in the air with one hand, guys. I was in fifth grade and my math teacher had given me a low grade on a test. Yes, I hadn’t studied and yes, I truly deserved the grade, but that was beside the point. I mowed this teacher’s lawn and did odd jobs around his house. I knew he was into my strength, too. By age eleven I was bigger than most adults, so when I was at his place he’d have me move bags of sand, pull up old stumps from the ground, bust up concrete decks he didn’t need anymore and stuff like that. You know, odd jobs for kids. Anyway, I ran to his house about twelve miles away one afternoon after checking my grades online. He was backing out of his driveway when I got there and rolled down his window to talk to me. He instantly knew why I was there. I complained and he said he couldn’t change the grade. I even pleaded, something I never did – mainly because my parents were going to be mad about the grade and I knew I’d be banned from my makeshift weight set of huge concrete blocks for a few days. My teacher told me he was sorry and started to ease down the driveway. Without thinking, I stuck my hand in his window, placed my open palm against the roof of his car, and lifted. Instantly the four tires came off the ground. My teacher still had his foot on the pedal so the tires were spinning, but he was going nowhere. He quickly glanced at me and I first saw the awe in his eyes, but then I saw the disappointment, as well. He didn’t need to say a word. I waited for him to take his foot off the accelerator and then put the car back down on the driveway. He put the car in park and got out to talk to me. He assured me this was just one test and that I could do better next time, which I did. He also gave me a long lecture about my abilities and being responsible for keeping my temper in check – a lesson I remember to this day. So, the purpose of that long story is to say that I’ve been lifting vehicles for as long as I can remember. And today, I get to lift a tank!” A couple of weeks ago, as Antoine had brought two criminals into police headquarters the big guy had not noticed what he was doing and he accidently walked through an archway that was too narrow for the insane expanse of his shoulders. He had always noticed that two normal sized men could pass through the thing with room to spare, but he definitely had to turn slightly to get through. That day he had been too excited by the fact that he had gotten to rip the roof off an SUV to the shocked faces of the criminals that he had forgotten to let one shoulder lead through the arch. Plaster, concrete, and wood came crashing down as his shoulders plowed through the walls as if he had been a football team breaking through a paper banner at a pep rally. He had been slightly embarrassed by his massive broadness that day, but today he knew it would come in handy. He reached down and grabbed underneath the track of the tank. Lifting the side of the vehicle was a breeze, but he heard his three amigos gasp in awe as he did it. He figured the tank was about four meters wide – or thirteen feet. He knew his broad shoulders and long arms could easily stretch beyond that. He reached down with his other hand and grabbed around the other side of the tank. He then lifted the thing – which weighed more than sixty-five tons – straight-armed over his head. Two of the onlookers immediately mumbled and crossed themselves – clearly sure that Antoine’s strength was from the devil. The third guy merely licked his lips. Antoine looked at his friends with a disappointed face. “Damn, I thought it would surely weigh more than this. Still, pretty impressive, huh? Anybody want to play catch? Naw, just kidding. Let’s make this thing small.” Antoine pulled his hands inward. A sound like a hundred orca whales mating rang out from the middle of the huge army tank as the two opposing tracks started moving toward each other. Basically, Antoine was folding the machine in two while holding it above his head. Thankfully, one of the dudes watching pulled out a smart phone and was filming the entire thing. Antoine didn’t want this feat of strength to go by and the world not see. He suddenly thought of Ambassador Dreyfuss sitting in his room at the resort hotel channel searching in hopes of catching Antoine in action. Surprisingly, bending an army tank was a lot easier than he had anticipated. Soon, Mr. Alpha had the two tracks, which surrounded the wheels that made the thing go, banged together. The entire hull was folded in on itself and there was a nice crisp seam down the middle. Antoine suddenly slammed the front end of the mangled tank down on the ground, causing all three men to fall from the tremors it sent out. The tank’s front end crunched in on itself, like it was some giant accordion. It resembled the way you could fold up paper to make a fan. Just as the three onlookers were getting back on their feet, Mr. Alpha lifted the chunk of battered metal and then slammed it back into the ground. Again, the men tumbled to their backsides. The giant army tank was now half its original size and resembled a large piece of junk more than anything else. “I don’t think your tank is working anymore, fellas.” Antoine tossed the long piece of metal - with one side banged in - up in the air and forced it to spin at the same time. When he caught the thing it had turned completely around so the battered end now stuck up in the air. As soon as he caught the heavy, narrow, compacted tank he brought the new end down against the ground even harder than the other side. By now, there was a pretty substantial hole in the ground where rock and dirt had submitted to Mr. Alpha’s powerful blows. The men had ceased trying to stand and just watched as the huge muscled superhero slammed their once invincible tank into a chunk of metal that was now the size of a two-person loveseat. Antoine smiled at his handiwork. He knew evryone that came upon that chunk of metal – and had not seen him at work – would have trouble saying exactly what it was. They would probably say it was some small car that had been through a compacting machine. Little did they know that it had been a human machine that had compacted an entire tank with just his bare hands. The big man put the sixty-five ton compressed tank between his palms and pressed in – like he was trying to squeeze the final drops out of a lemon. Freakishly, his arms ballooned out huge as Antoine actually compressed the block of titanium even further. He kept turning the thing and pushing in hard until he finally held something the size of a suitcase – smooth on all sides and no indication that it had been an army regulation mega tank used for major combat. He tossed the thing into the air and caught it a few times. On the third toss he let it fall to the ground and it sank into the earth – its insane weight instantly apparent. The three amigos, as well as Antoine’s original friend still up in the tree, clapped and cheered loudly. The workout had pumped Antoine’s body to even bigger bulges than before and he dwarfed the men around him. “Damn, that was fun, fellas! You’ll never know how much something like that turns me on. I really thought a tank would be a lot stronger than that. The poor thing had no chance against these!” Antoine flexed his big guns – gazing, himself, at how huge they bulged. The men, again, cheered and applauded. Mr. Alpha also noticed they kept staring at all of his swollenness within the posers, as well. During his demolition of the tank, Antoine had not even attempted to control himself from getting hard. He threw caution to the wind, since it was only guys around. His three amigos were flabbergasted by his strength, but just as they were by the weapon he was packing – or attempting to keep packed – within the material of his posers. Antoine recognized the looks of utter shock mixed with envy and downright anger at the fact that they had not been blessed with something so monstrous and manly. As fun as all of this was – and as much as he had come to really like his new admiring friends – it was time for him to move on to the house. He knew he needed to send these fellas home. He walked over until he was beneath the guy high up on the limb. He thought about flying up to get him, but decided it would be more fun if he caught him. “Okay, friend, papa’s here. Jump.” Without hesitation the guy pushed off from the branch. He knew how strong the arms were that waited for him. At that moment, he feared nothing because his friend Antoine was there. He landed in the big man’s arms with a slight thud and Mr. Alpha set him down on the ground. The men gathered around. “It’s time for you three to head home. Now remember, you’re only going to do good from now on. I’ll come and drink beer with you soon. Make sure you invite your extended families and I’ll put on a really good show.” Antoine turned to his original friend as he translated for the other three. There was disappointment on their faces, because they had to leave and miss more of the show, but they also looked forward to being visited by the muscled behemoth. As a parting gift one of them pulled out his pistol and made crushing motions with his hand. Mr. Alpha knew exactly what he wanted. The man desired a souvenir that he could take home. Antoine took the gun and easily twisted it. He made sure to not compress it completely, knowing it was important that you could still tell it was a gun and that someone’s hands had easily mangled it. Antoine made sure to leave finger indentions. He handed it back to his smiling fan. Immediately, the other two wanted the same thing – pulling out their guns quickly. Antoine obliged and then sent them on their merry way, the three of them running over to a nearby jeep and tearing away, waving and cheering loudly. They went the opposite direction of the house – showing their new allegiance to Mr. Alpha, completely.

Thank You for continuing A is for Alpha with Antoine! You know how I feel about your stories as you and I have had some conversations about them. I had to read this in two parts since it got me turned on, I had to relieve myself. I hope there will be more of this fantastic superhero story. I love it!!!!

Drying him off was a favorite pastime of mine. Tommy tried to help as much as he could, but he wound up just getting in the way, our thick paws constantly running into each other until it got frustrating. “Just…let me!” I snapped, running a towel all over one of his pecs. He smelled so good after his showers, and he was so hard and huge and hairy I couldn’t help but pull his head down for another kiss. That made him smile. Then he jabbed one of his sausage fingers into my sides, making me jump out of my skin. His husky chuckle came from deep in his chest as he buried his head into my neck. He was so thick, he had to lean at a funny angle to get in close only to pin me to the counter. He jabbed me again, running his hands all up and down my sides, into my pits, he even grabbed this weird spot on my thigh, tickling me roughly. I thought I was too muscular for all that, but Tommy was so strong he could dig deep. He tortured me for a little bit, and all I could do was just writhe in agony, laughing hysterically as he worked me over. I may have been a stiff monster too, but he could bend and manipulate me like a little toy. When he stopped, I was so completely spent, I didn’t move as he swallowed my cock practically whole. My eyes rolled to the back of my head, propped up against the mirror that had yet to crack somehow. The sink was running, with all that thrashing one of us, probably me, had torn one of the handles off, and it was all I could do to turn it off before a wave of goosebumps pulsed through my body, making me shiver. Tommy had shoved his thick fingers into my aching asshole, grinning with those big lips of his. I grabbed a handful of the wet, blonde, lion’s mane that was his hair as he forced a moan out of me. He drove his fingers deeper in my ass, sucking hungrily, and I made the strangest, most unsexy sound I think I’ve ever made. It just forced its way out of me, but Tommy smiled, trying not to laugh at me. As Tommy started playing with my balls, he ran his free hand all over my body, running his fingers through my chest hair, tweaking my sensitive nipples. At first my skin tensed at the feeling of his rough callouses, a split second of surprise, but it was enough to make him back off. We locked eyes, he stopped sucking, but in the next moment I clutched his hairy forearm, getting all the harder as I dwelled on the thought that he was mine. That while I was a freak, he was a monster. He was my monster. If he were to get off all the shit he was on now and never workout another day in his life, he would still live out his days incapable of properly fitting into anything vaguely human-sized. His hands would always be thick paws almost too thick to even hold a pencil, and so rough and hard his palms felt a lot like sandpaper. Sometimes he grew self-conscious about it, even in a place like this. Sometimes he grabbed ahold of me, and it hurt, and he worries about what his life would be like if we hadn’t built our home like we did. So when I clutched his arm to me, it killed the sudden awkwardness and he went back to servicing me. But this time he was doing things differently. He was torturing me again, bringing me right to the edge and then backing off to torment some other erogenous zone. It may have been twenty minutes, it may have been an hour before I couldn’t take it anymore and exploded. Tommy was quick to the draw, guzzling my cock once more to swallow my entire load without a moment’s hesitation. I sank to the floor, my legs were like jelly. I couldn’t catch my breath as I spun in the afterglow, and when I tried to reach out for Tommy’s new hard-on, he walked away. Probably, he just didn’t notice. He chuckled heavily again, and strut off to get something to eat. His dick swung back and forth like a batter teeing up; a baseball bat was definitely a proper likeness for this freak. I sat for a while, letting myself recover, making a few notes to myself of some stuff to clean or reorganize that I noticed at this new angle. Then I started playing with my legs, flexing them in different ways, watching the veins and muscles roll around like the barrels they had become. When I started to get really big, I thought it was kinda hot that I was starting to have trouble moving around. Then it got old and frustrating, so I started stretching more, and then I started stretching a lot, and then I got into yoga, sort of. By this time, we had already started working with all kinds of fitness specialists and sports doctors, we were able to figure out an improvised routine for me. Tommy tried it for a grand total of three days and stuck to good, old fashioned, middle school gym class stretches. It really showed too, because aside from actually being able to touch my toes and put my own shoes on, I was actually a functional human being. That being said, Tommy was a great deal bigger than me, so even if he had stuck to that routine, he’d still have trouble doing things. As flexible as I was, compared to him, we still really struggled to get dressed. Most guys like us never really lived alone because we just couldn’t, and it was common that we wound up dressing one another. We generally dressed Tommy first because he was more difficult. I fished out some underwear, his favorite pair of bright red briefs we had custom made to be able to withstand his thighs and package. It was made of some soft but incredibly stretchy and sturdy material that pulled his sack up enough that it was easier for him to walk without giving his balls a pounding with his giant legs. Getting those on took a while because the leg holes were a tight fit just getting over his calves, then it was a battle to get them up over his thighs and ass. The waistband stretched just enough for me to force his balls in without much discomfort, but then we had to work with his shaft. “Honestly, this is the worst part.” Said Tommy, as he stuffed his log of a cock down, into the undies. He paused a moment, then tried to adjust himself, his face reddening a bit as it buried into his pecs. I tried to help too, if not, he would be doing that all day, and we had to go. Then came his shorts, which were only a little bit easier to slip on now that I didn’t have to fight with his giant ass ball sack. These shorts barely came halfway down his thighs, and they were starting to split, but he said they were the most comfortable pair. His bulge was so huge, the trunk of his shaft and a generous amount of scrotum was exposed to the open air…Maybe that was why those were his favorite. Even through all that hair, you could see every vein bulging in Tommy’s body. His legs rippled like waves with every step, even at the slightest of adjustments to his stance sent his vascular body into a riot of motion. Tommy’s favorite shirt was a cheap, ripped up and raggy sweatshirt whose sleeves he had long since flexed out of; then he cropped it short so his midriff was exposed. The only thing it even sort of covered was his chest, and at this point, the collar was beginning to tear open. Then I helped him into his boots and tied his long hair back with a bandana, and he was ready to go. Now it was Tommy’s turn to help me get dressed. I managed to get my bottoms on most of the way, though Tommy sure had a grand ol time pinching and patting my thick ass as I wrestled with my compression shorts. He had to help me adjust my balls, though, but he got frustrated because he couldn’t reach over his own mass and threw me onto the bed to get at me from a better angle. Then he grabbed me up again, set me on my feet and helped me work with my shorts. He put my shoes on, and then guided my thick arms through an incredibly tight, bright pink shirt he picked out himself. As much as I like tight clothing, Tommy liked it to the point that it nearly strangled me, and he liked it when I wore bright colors so I stuck out like a sore thumb. He knew it made me uncomfortable, sometimes, but that was where a lot of the fun was at. Usually I would have just torn the sleeves off, but he liked how my arms bulged and warped the fabric. I had long since learned to just give in when Tommy decided I was going to wear something; at least it wasn’t too bad this time. Tommy had already started eating before we got dressed, but he was peckish afterward and I was starving, so we destroyed several omelettes, practically an entire loaf bread each, and several steaks. That would last us a while, and it gave us a chance to relax a bit and sip some coffee and hydrate before we had to stretch out. There wasn’t any time for yoga today, but if we both didn’t warm up and stretch, even on our off days, things got challenging. Our systems were a lot more demanding now, and we required almost constant supervision. The only thing is that we’d been at this so long, we knew what we needed as we needed it and could watch for signs of what we would need in the future. Our whole routine took quite a while, and that was why we got up so early. That was why we built this place, where people could dedicate their lives to growing and pushing themselves beyond what should have been humanly possible. We had started this compound toward the beginning of our transformation when it became apparent that we and all our clients would soon outgrow the rest of society. It wasn’t like we weren’t allowed to leave or anything, it was just a better place for people our size because everything was extra wide and super reinforced. Everyone took to calling it the Bulk because, well, it was built out of an old factory yard along a bulkhead, but also because of the freaks of nature that lived inside. You had to be at least four hundred pounds to be considered for a membership, or you had to have some kind of goal of shooting beyond that size. All of the old factories had been repurposed and renovated into several colossal gyms and living spaces, along with a small lab, a medical station, and a few other amenities we were eventually able to afford. It was still early in the morning, but the place was crawling with people. Muscle beasts waddled every which way. The extra wide sidewalks they had installed still did little to prevent massive collisions and pileups as dudes too caught up with their own size to notice, struggled to adjust course or pay attention. They had long since given up on maintaining any kind of lawn; what grass they had was kept short by being constantly stepped on and crushed by tons and tons of man-meat. Besides, most of these guys totally didn’t mind plowing through mud or snow. They were usually a sweaty, smelly mess to begin with, so what harm could a little dirt do? No one could really move all that fast, but Tommy moved at a glacial pace, and he was already panting a third of the way there. “Babe…slow down.” He huffed. I laughed. “You old man.” “Fuck…you…” he growled. “I’m a fuckin beast! We need to get one ah them carts…” “Nope.” I said. “You’re gonna walk, maybe even run one day.” “HA!” He scoffed. “Sure.” “I mean it.” I said, now having completely stopped to let him catch up. Guys were watching us, but this was a familiar sight, a giant amongst giants. “When I can touch my toes again, then I’ll go running.” As we walked, we passed by one of the new buildings where we kept the really big boys. See, Tommy was generally considered the biggest guy here, but that was only true in that he was the biggest guy here, who could still move. We had done that on purpose, partly because I couldn’t bring myself to let him grow so huge all our time together would be spent in a single room, but also because Tommy was something of our mascot as he needed to keep up appearances. So he stayed on a regimen of supplements and hormones that made him taller, made his bones longer and thicker, sturdier. But there were freaks among us who grew so huge, so wide, and so muscular that they couldn’t move. For some it was a dream, but for others, who were not so well behaved, it was a prison. Everyone who came to live here, knew about it, and it worked quite well to keep everyone in line. You could ask to grow out, become a mega bull, and live out your life being fed and milked and masturbated, though that was probably the only thing that was reversible here. Some guys just wanted to grow to immobility and then watch themselves slim down just enough to be able to stand. They never got very far, and generally just waddled around the bull pin for a while before they toppled over, but a few managed to live happily with a helper or two. There was never a shortage on staff at the Bulk, to no one’s surprise. But these guys, for all their mass, were never quite as tall or heavy or as strong as Tommy, not that they minded. They were carting a new addition to the herd as we passed by. He was a familiar face too, a handsome fellow named Jared who had been half this size the other night. He was one of those who chose to remain their normal height, but had almost been as wide as he was tall since we’d known him and well over five hundred pounds. His chiseled, olive-complected face had always been scruffy and dark, with perfectly swept hair and cute, round little glasses that only highlighted his incredibly powerful jaw. Now his face was almost unrecognizable as every vein bulged, the lower half of his face jut out so far with rippling muscle and his lips were so fat he had trouble speaking. Even his nose looked different, once aquiline like a roman statue, it was almost pug-like and brutish. He hollered with what could have been frustration, but might have been devastation too. He seemed delirious as he fought against his own mass, his neck all but disappeared behind traps that towered over his own head. His body had now wider than it was tall, and from his the mountains that were his pecs, on which his chin was now permanently resting upon, streams of milk drizzled out steadily. Someone would have to go in and reteach him how to speak with his new features. “Wow, Jared’s a mega bull now.” Tommy said, pressing his hand in the small of my back as we came to a stop. It bothered me a bit how upset he seemed, going in. “He look okay to you?” I asked. “No.” Tommy replied. “Probably an overdose of something.” “Oh, I hate to see that. We should check up on him.” “Not now, let him get settled in.” Conveniently, we had our home built close to our favorite gym. It was also no mistake that the bull pit was on the usual route we took, or that the big building had huge windows through which everyone could watch their favorite monsters on display. There was always a crowd around the bull pit, and getting a proper tour booked was near impossible unless you were us. But there was no time for all that. We had to workout. Our gym wasn’t the biggest, it really wasn’t anything out of the ordinary from the rest of them except it was closest to where we lived, it wasn’t overly crowded, and since we lived in the older part of the Bulk, lots of bog boys liked to play there. We know it was one of the original factory buildings we bought initially, but Tommy and I argued if it was one of the ones we personally helped clear out. Those days were so hectic, we both lost weight and lulled in our progress, to everyone’s dismay. But once we got everything cleared out, cleaned up, and restocked, it was a major milestone and from there we went from freaks to monsters. Whoever was on staff today had EDM playing softly over the speakers, and all the doors that hadn’t been torn off their hinges had been drawn up or rolled aside. Some little freaks, somewhere on the edge of five hundred pounds, all under six feet tall, waddled their way in front of us, bumping shoulders and booming about how sore they were. Even from behind, the one that stood furthest back, closest to us, I could tell was very clearly not wearing underwear and had a crotch that hung so low and bounced so furiously I could only guess at how big it really was. It was clear he was a fan of our male enhancement regimen. Tommy must have seen me staring because he pinched me on my ass and shouted “LIKE WHAT YA SEE?” That caught their attention. Their eyes bugged out of their heads when they saw us. “Oh shit, Sammy Strong!” said the one I’d been staring at. Now that I could see his face, his hard jawline, with that bronze skin and those bright green eyes, I blushed. And when I saw that beast between his legs, halfway down his shin bones I felt my own cock stir. “You like what you see, baby?” His paler colored friend tried to put his hands behind his head, flexing his abs, hard. The tiny stretch of fabric swallowed up by his legs nearly burst as he swayed his hips, sensually. Unlike his friend, it was almost like this one didn’t have anything between his legs at all. “I like all a’ that, but no one comes near Tommy.” I saw, running my hand over Tommy’s exposed midsection. They laughed, and went on after we all bumped fists. I gave the green eyed one’s cock a good squeeze and he stood a little taller after that, strutting in like he was three times as big. As we walked in ourselves, we saw that Frank, our favorite milker, was servicing clients in the lobby. Irritated, I handed Tommy my bag and let him go on as I marched over to him, ignoring the two hulks twice my size crouched over, sucking at his breasts, and slapped him right on his fat ass. “Frank!” He looked at me, but I barely recognized him. He’d shaven off his bushy black beard that had always given Tommy’s a run for his money. Now, he was baby faced, and it reminded me that despite his huge size, he was barely in his twenties. Probably one of the fattest people at the Bulk. His gut extended out nearly as far as his huge, leaky tits. But Frank was also probably one of the strongest guys here, that could move. He was a hairy, six foot five beast with massive legs and a gigantic ass that spilled out of everything, nearly as bad as his breasts, with a long dick, and huge arms. His proportions were all out of wack, but he liked it that way, and did we. “Sorry, man.” He grumbled, smacking both hulks on their puffed out cheeks. They let go, each handing him forty bucks before lumbering out. “They said they needed a boost.” “B…but that’s not gonna do anything…” I said, bewildered. “And in the lobby? Come on, man.” “Hey, no one else seemed to mind.” He shrugged. I just couldn’t get over his fresh, chubby, cheeks. “Your milk won’t do much for them without any added hormones.” I said. “They might grow breasts of their own without it.” “I think that’s what one of them wants.” He said. “I dunno, I don’t ask questions when they start flashin cash.” I sighed. “Just…do it in the bathroom or something next time.” “Sure, sorry man.” He said, slipping caps over his swollen nipples to keep them from flowing. Frank was one of our closest friends, and was one of our first guinea pigs. In fact, he was the first milking bull we had. I knew him from college, before he dropped out. He was a sweet guy, but it was painfully obvious how badly he wanted to be huge. By then I looked like something fresh off the stage at Mr. O, and Tommy was just breaking four hundred. He followed us around the gym like a puppy, so we introduced him to the right people and started pumping him up. At first the milk came as a shock, but when we saw how much protein it carried in it and how well it mixed with certain supplements, we sort of bullied him into it. I would feel bad if Frank hadn’t fallen completely in love with his tits right off the back. He’s retired now, really only swelling up when he was bored or someone paid him enough, but when he was at his biggest, we had to move him into our old basement. There, he grew so big, it was painful for him to stand for very long. By then, Tommy had started up on how own bone supplements, but where Tommy grew taller, Frank grew wider. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a big boy all around, but back then, he was almost as wide as he was tall, with breasts he could rest on his knees whenever he sat down. Then he got lonely, and being that big started to take its toll on him. He slimmed down a bit, but promised us he would stay a freak. So we kept him around, tested most of our new stuff on him, which he loved. Frank was always going up and down, never really staying one size or shape for very long. Right now, he was a supersized bear, but with time, he would either get really cut really fast or stay thick but get even fatter. That was his kink, and the string of boy toys he kept around ranged from tiny twinks outside the Bulk to several of our own mega bulls. “You see the new people?” He asked, fighting to pull his shirt back over his manboobs. “No, but it won’t take long to find them with Tommy here.” “There’s one you should really check out, his name is James, he’s a freak.” Said Frank’s boyfriend. “His buddies pay extra for milk straight from the source, been here maybe a month and he’s blimped up so much even his face is swollen.” “That him over there?” Tommy asked, nodding in the direction of one of the small packs of brutes grunting and growling, bumping shoulders and barking words of encouragement. I only caught a glimpse of something red, but whatever it was got Tommy all excited, his bulge stirring. I was half tempted to grand me a handful, but he plowed forward before I could make up my mind. We needed to get started anyway, so I hurried after him, narrowly missing a pair of big breasted milkers as I went. Trying to be slick, we started into our warmup, trying to steal glances at the short hulk being shoved from one workout to the next. These men, much taller but way smaller, would have been menacing if they weren’t the smallest guys here. Tommy put a stop to all that when he passed by them, making his way to one of machines they had modded out for all the really big boys. Luckily there weren’t that many in this particular gym this day, and since there weren’t near as many big big boys like Tommy, their machines were never very busy for very long. He started in on an improvised kind of leg raise pushing ridiculous amounts of weight, every vein, every cord, every fiber in the lower half of his body already tensed and pulsing. I couldn’t really help him much when it came to working out, so I started in on my own routine, watching the little pack of bullies practically drooling as they watched my baby get jacked. All I could think about was how much of a bitch it was going to be to get him home when he’s lost what little space he has to bend his legs. One of the bullies threw an arm over the meaty shoulder of who I had figured was James and loudly proclaimed that he would be that size in a few months. The poor kid could have passed for maybe twenty, He couldn’t have been any taller than five foot six, but he was wider than he was tall. He carried most of it in his chest and shoulders, the slight sag in his pecs and the size of his nipples showing through his raggy workout shirt were all signs that he was definitely on his way to becoming a milker like Frank. But his legs and ass were no joke either, though he wasn’t really packing much where it really mattered. His red tights were made of good material and sculpted to his beefy body, but it seemed like he wasn’t all that accustomed to his size. His waddle was even more pronounced than Tommy’s was, he looked tired and upset as he broke away from the brute and stumbled toward the locker room. I couldn’t help myself. I had heard some of our guys had been forced to move out here, but I’d never actually seen one. First, this kid barely made it to the bathrooms the way he bumped into everything and everyone, his arms stuck out farther than mine did and I was three times his size. He was so stiff and unaccustomed, I was a little worried that maybe he had been grown too fast, which was a whole other issue in and of itself. But he just seemed so pitiful, I followed after him. He was taking a piss when I caught up to him, we had long since given up on using individual urinals and went for the giant metal troughs that guys could line up at a few at a time if they could still reach their dicks on their own. James’ back wasn’t all that defined, but he was so incredibly thick I was half-chubbed as I stood beside him. “Hey, man!” I said, perhaps a little too cheerily as I pulled my own dick out, waiting for shit to start flowing. “Huh? Oh…hey.” He said, a little bashful. “You new?” I asked, trying to peek over our collective masses to steal a glance at his thick cock. Truth be told, I was a little disappointed. Something told me those guys didn’t really have a good grasp on how our regiment worked, or at least all that we had to offer. “Uh…yeah, been here maybe a few weeks?” He replied. “I’m Sam, what’s your name?” “James, but my friends call me Jimmy.” “You’re lookin pretty awesome, Jimmy.” I said, shaking my dick out after an awkward pause. Jimmy, meanwhile, had very awkwardly tried and utterly failed at maneuvering his bulk without bumping into me. I just chuckled a bit, a little surprised, but he looked completely mortified. Still, he seemed to lighten up a bit when he heard me compliment him. “Those guys seem like they’re kinda rough.” “Hm?” He said, trying to wash his hands. “Oh…yeah, they’re a little…high strung. Did you see that freak working legs? My friends actually left me alone for once, usually they’re…” His face fell. “All over you?” I asked. “Why you come spot me for a while? How far along are you with your workout?” “Almost done, actually.” I just now noticed how much his jaw flexed as he spoke. What I took for an unusually large jawline was actually just thick face muscles jutting out almost obscenely. Not sure what all that was about, but I found it so freaky and hot resisted the urge to cup his face in my hands. Even his chin was clefted and huge, impossibly so. “Well…why don’t you come spot me? When my husband gets in the zone, it can be pretty annoying to get him to help me out.” “Uh, sure. I don’t think my friends would like that very much, but screw em. They’re assholes anyway.” I kissed him. Initially, he was surprised, but he never stopped me. In fact, he practically melted in my arms as I guided him backward, into the really big stall for the really big guys. Those were everyone’s favorites because even the biggest guys here, who could move at least, didn’t feel cramped and the toilets were the widest and sturdiest. Surprisingly enough, it smelled cleaner in there than it did by the lockers. And it was there that I backed him up against the wall, him being completely overwhelmed by my sheer size and bracing himself on the railing digging into his back. I yanked his leggings down, and took his disappointingly average sized cock into my mouth. His eyes went wide as I swallowed his entire penis, even his balls, and sucked hard. It was intimidating, I was so aggressive in servicing him, he couldn’t do anything but lay back and enjoy the ride. He ran his fingers through my hair, drool escaping both our lips as I worked him over and he lost himself to the sensation. When he finally blew, I swallowed his whole load down and was actually a little disappointed. It was used to freaks with dicks so big they touched the ground, but judging from the way his thick legs went to jelly, I was pretty sure I did my job right. As he reeled in the afterglow, I eased him onto my lap, on the floor. My big arms swallowed him up, and he rest his head back, against my chest, panting furiously. “I like you, Jimmy.” I said. “Yeah?” He relaxed a bit more. “I…I like you too…Is your husband gonna kick my ass, now?” “Actually, I think he’d love to meet you.” I said. “Every now and then we keep a little pet, grow him into a monster, then ship him off to the milking station. It’s a lot of fun, and I think you’d be perfect for it.”