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Showing content with the highest reputation on 12/15/2018 in all areas

  1. OK, here it is. The final chapter! I just want to say a few words before I post it. Apologies if any of this sounds OTT or cheesy! This has hands down been the best experience of sharing a story for me, and that's all down to you guys here and all the amazing and wonderful feedback you've continued to give me! Reading everyone's thoughts, knowing that so many of you like it, hearing people say that they're emotionally invested in the characters and that the story has touched and moved them is more than I could have ever imagined when I wrote the fist draft of this story back in the summer! It's been fun and exciting and genuinely touching, and even a little bit overwhelming at times too! As for the story itself, I can't lie, I am really proud of it! It's my favourite thing I've ever written and again, at the risk of sounding cheesy, it's the kind of story I've always wanted to write but never really knew if I could. So here goes. One more chapter. As I've teased already, it's quite a lengthy one. There are quite a few nods to things that have happened in previous chapters, particularly towards the beginning of the story. When you read it you'll know what I mean by that! Thirty Eight I lay on the guy’s bed with my legs up. I just really wanted him to fuck me in that moment. I’d met him in the club a few hours earlier. The last of a number of one night stands and casual fucks during my first term back at university. He pushed himself inside of me. Fucking hell. This is gonna hurt tomorrow, I thought. He fucked me for a little while and then collapsed on the bed. I was kind of relieved. And then I suddenly just wanted to get the hell out of his flat. Wherever it was. Hove, apparently. A fair walk from Naomi’s place, but it was doable. He offered to call me a taxi and pay for it. I told him I was okay to walk but he insisted. But when I was putting on my shoes he made a snide comment about paying for the taxi in a sarcastic manner. And I just thought, why offer and insist if you’re then gonna be a fucking prick about it?! I collapsed on Naomi’s bed when I got back to hers. I was an absolute mess. I hadn’t planned on taking anything the night before, but one of Naomi’s flatmates had put a pill in the palm of my hand in the club and I hadn’t been able to resist. “My arse hurts!” I said. She grinned at me. “Serves you right for being a slag!” she joked. “Your behaviour last night. Poor Richard!” I groaned and sunk my head into the pillow. Richard was a guy I was sort of seeing. He wasn’t my usual type at all. 6’2, slim built and camp as tits. In other words, the complete opposite of AJ Jones. It was the last thing I’d been looking for after what had happened with AJ in the summer, but I’d pulled him in a club down here in Brighton one night and afterwards he’d wanted to see me again. And then again after that time. He definitely didn’t give me butterflies, but he was a nice guy, so I’d just sort of gone along with it. He’d come out with us the previous night and had actually used the words, “Do you want to be with me?” I’d then kissed that other guy in front of him and ended up going back to his. It wasn’t my proudest moment, I’ll admit. I guess I just kind of freaked out. Because the last person I’d been involved with had broken my heart and it had almost fucking killed me. There was another reason too, of course. I tried not to let myself think about it, but even though I hadn’t seen or heard from him for months, what I’d felt for AJ Jones in the summer was very much still there. I felt bad about what I’d done to Richard. I thought about texting him and apologising, but what would I say? Sorry for getting off with another guy and then going home with him right after you asked me if I wanted to be with you? Sorry for leading you on when I’m still secretly in love with a junior competitive bodybuilder who lives two hundred miles away? Sorry for being an absolute fucking dick to you because a guy you never met broke my heart four months ago? “My dad will be here in, like, two hours!” Naomi said. I groaned again. Naomi’s dad was coming to pick us up and drive us back home to Little Denton for the Christmas holidays. As I thought about the day ahead, a sick feeling churned in my stomach. It wasn’t at the thought of being driven halfway across the country by Naomi’s dad on no sleep and still feeling trashed. It was the thought of being back in Little Denton. I hadn’t been back home since the term had started. When I hadn’t been at my lectures, a lot of that term had been spent with Naomi in Brighton. I guess I’d found it easier to be around someone who knew the scale of what had happened. Sure, I’d told most of my uni friends in London about AJ. That I’d bumped into an old school friend. That we’d fallen for each other and ended up being boyfriends. That he’d messed about with another guy and begged for forgiveness, then went to Ibiza, completely cut me off and told me he wanted to end it. And they told me they were sorry and that it sounded like I was better off without him and all of the things you’re expected to say to someone in that situation. But none of them knew AJ. None of them saw what I was like with him. None of them knew how much I was in love with him. To the point where I didn’t think I’d ever love anyone as much again. But Naomi knew. Even if she never saw us when we were properly together. Never saw that version of me. She knew what I’d been through. She knew in those months that had followed that I was going through hell. Feeling the lowest I ever had. This feeling of sadness running through everything I did. And she didn’t judge me when I drank too much and acted out. When I’d bought guys back to her house to shag then turned cold and frosty with them when I’d sobered up the next morning and spent the rest of the day feeling sad. Or when we’d been having a good night out but I’d randomly returned from the toilets of a club with a red, blotchy face because I’d started thinking about AJ and it had all got too much and I needed to leave. She worried about me, obviously, but she understood everything. Mostly she was just there. Like best friends should be. I’d forgotten how much I’d missed my family until I was home and my mum was kissing me on the cheek. “Oooh, here is. The stranger!” she said pointedly, but she was smiling and happy to see me. My mum studied my face and gave me a suspicious look. I knew I looked a mess from the night before. “You look … tired,” she said. Then she sighed and gently shook her head. “God knows what you and that Naomi get up to down there!” I rolled my eyes in response but I couldn’t help but smirk. Mum never changes. “Yo, bro!” My sister, Kayleigh, who was also home for Christmas, gave me a hug. “Wow! You look like shit!” she said. “Charming!” I replied. My sister was one of those people who didn’t have a filter. She basically just said whatever came into her head, regardless of whether it might cause offence. I’d often wondered how two people with the same parents could be as different from each other as me and Kayleigh were. As nice as it was to see my family, I couldn’t wait to collapse on my bed in the bedroom I’d grown up in. It really did feel nice to be back. Whatever few bad memories I had associated with that room from the end of the summer, I think I’d always love it. It felt like one of the few places in the world where I truly felt safe. I had felt that way about AJ Jones’ bedroom once too. As Little Cat jumped on my bed and curled into the back of my legs, I thought about that one afternoon in the summer when AJ was here, lying on my bed. His gorgeous, smiling face an inch away from mine, his ridiculously muscular body squashed up against me, his huge biceps bulging out of his blue, Tesco polo shirt. That was the day my mum had come home unexpectedly and I’d had no choice but to re-introduce him to her. Awkwardness aside, I had been so happy that day. Me and AJ in our own little bubble. I never imagined it would burst so easily. And then I start thinking about another occasion; sitting on this very bed and crying into my pillow after getting that text from AJ telling me that it was over. I never replied to that message. I thought about it. That night, the next few days and a dozen days after that. I thought about all the different ways I could have responded, and all the different things I could have said. I thought about getting angry. Calling him a coward for ignoring me. Letting him know how hurt I was. Accusing him of not really caring about me. Reminding him that what we had was so special and that I couldn’t believe he was just throwing it all away. I thought about being understanding. Telling him that I knew why he’d done what he had. That it was probably for the best that we ended it now and that I hoped one day we might be able to be friends again, even though I knew that that could never happen. And sometimes I thought about fighting. Telling him that I wasn’t going to let him end things that easily. Telling him that we could make it work. That I could forgive him for messing about with another guy. That what we had was too special to give up. Doing whatever I could to change his mind. To make sure that I didn’t let him go like I’d let him go before. But I couldn’t bring myself to do any of those things. Much like when AJ had hurt me when he’d messed about that guy, Dale, I had closed down to him. That imaginary wall between us had gone up again. And honestly, I just felt like giving up. I couldn’t be hurt anymore by AJ Jones. So I deactivated my Facebook profile. I hid away in my room for the last few weeks of the summer with only Little Cat for company. I stayed away from the leisure centre and Tesco. And any other place that AJ Jones might be. Much like I had on numerous occasions over the previous few months, I then found myself wondering what AJ had been up to since the summer, and what he was doing now. Did he still work at Tesco? Maybe he was now a full time personal trainer at the Little Denton Leisure Centre? Or even a trainer at one of the bigger gyms in town? Did he go out on the gay scene? Had he met any guys off any dating apps? Did he have a whole new set of gay drinking buddies? Was he now boyfriends with the hottest muscle guy in town, me just a distant memory? The more my mind started to wander with possibilities, the less I wanted to know. Maybe it was better to remember AJ as he was the last time I’d seen him. Sorry and hurt for what he’d done with Dale. Asking me for forgiveness. Gripping me tight with his ridiculous arms and sinking his head into my neck near the front door of his house before he left to go to Ibiza for a week. Me and my family had a tradition. Every Christmas Eve we’d go and visit my grandparents on my mum’s side. Sleeping in my bed at my parent’s house the previous night had given me the best night’s sleep in months. Apparently though, I need more. I woke up in the back of my dad’s car, my mum twisting her neck and looking at me with this amused, affectionate grin. And my sister also looking at me. Giving me with cheeky grin and rubbing my cheek with her finger. “Awww! The baby’s awake!” she said, in a cutesy voice. Then even my fucking dad looked around with a big, cheesy grin on his face, also clearly amused that I’d fallen asleep in the back of the car. Jesus fucking CHRIST! I seriously couldn’t do anything without my whole family making a massive fuss of it. I rolled my eyes. I was annoyed. But, I don’t know, truthfully, I kind of liked it. In that moment, still half asleep, I felt this overwhelming sense of love for my family. The car seemed to be slowing down. And then my stomach suddenly lurched, because I realised where we were and what we were doing. Pulling into the car park at the local Tesco. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Why are we stopping here?” I asked my parents, anxiously. “Three guesses! Your mother needs something!” my dad groaned. “Shut up, Keith! Two things I need. I’ll be ten minutes!” “We’ve heard that one before!” my dad said. “Noah, you can stay here in the car with Kayleigh if you want. We won’t be long!” my mum said as my dad parked the car. Still feeling a little groggy from not having long woken up, I didn’t really think about what I did next. I think I even surprised myself. Because I was suddenly undoing my seatbelt and opening the car door. Maybe if I hadn’t fallen asleep, had known in advance that my parents would be stopping there and had been given time to think about what I was going to do, I wouldn’t have gotten out of that car. But there I suddenly was, trailing behind my parents and walking into the place where it had all begun. The place I’d been reunited with AJ Jones that Friday afternoon, all those months ago in June. Where I’d found out that one of my old best friends from school had transformed himself into a mini muscle bull of a bodybuilder, with ridiculous biceps, a big, beefy arse and massive tits which strain through the material of his work shirt. As we walked passed the big Christmas tree and the people dressed as Santa’s collecting money for charity, my mind started spinning with questions. Did AJ even still work here? And if he did, would he be working on Christmas Eve? And what the hell would I do if I actually ran into him? As soon as we walked into the main store, I got my answers to all of those questions. My heart jumped into my throat, and my legs felt like they were going to give up on me. Because standing next to a big display of discounted Quality Street, in the very same blue polo shirt, his arms still ridiculously huge (if not fucking more so!), his tits still straining through the material, his face just as fucking cute and oh-so-gorgeous as before and wearing a red and white fucking Santa’s hat, was the boy who’d broken my heart. I couldn’t decide what I wanted more as I looked at AJ Jones for the first time in four months. To turn away from him and run the hell out of the shop, or to run towards him and sink my body into his. And tell him how much I’d missed him. How much I’d thought about him. And how I very much still loved him more anything. I knew as soon as AJ had spotted me, because his expression suddenly changed. He looked surprised. He definitely looked nervous. Even a little bit scared. I was incredibly nervous myself. But my legs just kept walking towards him. There was nothing I could have done then anyway. He’d seen me. I had no choice but to go up to him. My mum had obviously spotted AJ too. “Come on, Keith, let’s go get the sausages!” she said, ushering my dad away. I was both surprised and impressed at how much my mum respected the fact that I wouldn’t want them around in that moment. As I approached AJ, his face softened. He still looked really surprised. Almost like he’d seen a ghost. I guess he kind of had. But I could also tell, that even though he was nervous, he was actually pleased to see me. “Hey!” he said, nervously. “Hi!” I replied, my heart pounding. It was funny. I had always wondered what would happen if I saw him again. I had thought that I might still be pissed off at him and want to start shouting at him for what he did. But standing in front of him again in the flesh, looking at his cute button nose, rosy cheeks and his slightly jug ears sticking out underneath the white fluff of his adorable Santa’s hat, I was filled with this overwhelming feeling of affection. Even though I was nervous as hell, it was so fucking nice to see him. I never would have predicted I’d have felt that way. He still smelt exactly the same. That unique, intoxicating, masculine scent I once loved so much. I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed it until that moment. “Nice hat!” I said, playfully. AJ rolled his eyes and his mouth broke into a little grin. It was still as gorgeous as ever. “Back home for Christmas then?” he asked. “Yep!” I replied. “Back in boring Little Denton!” AJ said, with a knowing grin. My heart fluttered like crazy. He had said those very words to me the day we’d bumped into each in the meat aisle of this very store. Clearly he’d remembered. I realised in that moment how ironic it was that I’d always found Little Denton so boring as a teenager. How I’d been so desperate to move to London at the very first opportunity. And yet, both the most amazing and the most heartbreaking thing had happened to me right here in the place I grew up in. “Still working at the leisure centre too?” I asked. “Yeah!” he replied. “Nothing changes much round here!” I said. AJ had said those words to me that day too. The cute, heart melting grin he was giving me told me he very much remembered that too. An elderly woman who’d picked up a tub of the Quality Street from the display and was studying it was suddenly trying to get AJ’s attention. “How much are these, love?” GAAAHH!! Five fucking pounds! It says it on that big plastic sign in big letters right in front of your bloody eyes. “Five pounds!” AJ said, cheerily, with a big, warm smile. God. He was still such a little fucking charmer. The woman’s mouth then broke into a mischievous little grin as she then placed her hand on AJ’s wrist. “My grandson, Simon! He’s into all this muscle building stuff!” Then she looked at me and gave me a cheeky wink. AJ shot me an amused look. “Awesome!” he said to the woman, grinning wildly. I bit my lip and tried not to laugh. “I keep saying to him, ‘You’re getting too big, Simon!’ But he won’t listen!” AJ was smiling and nodding and the woman was shaking her head and chuckling to herself. As she walked away, me and AJ looked at each other and exchanged amused grins. “Think Simon goes to Scorpio’s?” I asked AJ. And then he made a sound I never expected to hear again. He giggled. One of his cute, little giggles I used to love so much. And God, I wanted so much in that moment to be back where we were in the summer. Even after everything that had happened, the chemistry between us was very much still there. Looking at AJ’s cute, smiling face as we exchanged a personal joke, this incredibly warm feeling washed over me. Just for one moment, it felt like nothing had changed between us. And then I remembered that it had, and suddenly my stomach was twisting and my whole body felt heavy. A scary looking woman was walking in our direction and glaring at AJ with her eyes narrowed. I’m pretty sure it was the same woman who’d interrupted us when we’d bumped into each other that afternoon in the meat aisle. “AJ!” she said to him, sternly, as she walked passed. AJ looked at me and this sudden look of disappointment flickered across his face. “I’d better …,” he said, nodding to the people looking at the Quality Street display. My heart dropped. “Yeah!” I said, understanding that I needed to leave him to it. “Good to see you, anyway!” I said, my voice shaking a little. “You too! See ya!” he replied, with a look of sadness in his eyes. And then it was suddenly over, and I was walking away, not knowing if and when I’d ever see AJ Jones again. Christmas Day was pretty much always the same with my family. My nan would come over in the morning. We’d open our presents. My mum would make sausage sandwiches for everyone’s breakfast. We’d probably have a Bailey’s or a Bucks Fizz each not long after that. My mum would say that lunch would be ready by two o’clock. We’d all know it would be more like three o’clock, which my dad would make jokes and sarcastic comments about. We’d watch whatever films were on TV in the afternoon while still wearing our paper hats from our Christmas crackers. Probably one of the Harry Potter films for the four-hundredth time and me and Kayleigh would know almost every line of dialogue that was coming next. That Christmas was no different. Except for one thing. The whole day I had been thinking about my encounter with AJ Jones. Had been going over it in my head a hundred times. How he still looked the same, apart from his arms, which I could have sworn were slightly bigger than the last time I saw him. The expression on his face when he’d first spotted me. The way his ears had stuck out underneath the white fluff of his cute little Santa’s hat. The way he’d grinned at me like he always had done and given me one his little giggles as we’d laughed and joked at that adorable woman, who’d brilliantly told us about her muscle building grandson, Simon. I had been thinking about the way he’d smelt. And the way he made me feel. The same way he’d made me feel in the summer. And I’d thought about that gut wrenching feeling I’d had when I’d walked away from him. It was a few hours after our Christmas dinner that it happened. Harry and Hermione had just used the time turner to save more than one innocent life when I heard my phone ping in my pocket. I took it out, thinking nothing of it, and my heart suddenly felt like it had stopped. Because, for the first time in four months, AJ Jones had sent me a text message. I jumped up and shot out of the living room. In the hallway, alone, I looked at the text. AJ had written three words. “I miss you.” Fuck! My heart was suddenly expanding and filling up my whole chest. I dashed up to my bedroom, closed my door and sat on my bed, smiling and staring at the message. Scared but excited at what had happened, while not knowing what to do or how the hell to respond. And then my phone pinged again. AJ had sent me another text. “I miss our Facebook messages.” And then he sent another. “I miss teasing you about being a future shredded muscle freak.” A huge wave of nostalgia swept over me, mixed with an overwhelming feeling of happiness. I grinned wildly into the phone and felt like I was melting into the wall I was leaning my back against. “I miss thinking up awesome bodybuilder nicknames with you.” I couldn’t believe what was happening. Couldn’t believe what was coming through on my phone. Text after text from AJ Jones. “I miss calling you The Cookie Monster.” “I miss taking you to Scorpio’s.” “I miss watching Dom and Cole In The Land of Ug with you.” “I miss lying on my bed with you.” And then I was suddenly crying. Staring into my phone in disbelief, as AJ continued to text me, tears running down my cheek. “I miss kissing you.” “P.S. I promise I’m not drunk!” And then I was laughing, while still crying. “I miss flexing for you.” “I miss seeing your face when I hit a most muscular.” And then my dick started to swell in my jeans. I was crying and laughing and getting a bloody hard on. All at fucking once. “P.P.S. Really, really, REALLY not drunk!” And then he sent the AJ emoji. I hadn’t used that emoji for months. “I miss the way you used to kiss my head every time you cuddled me.” “And I miss the way you made me feel.” I remembered what he’d text Naomi that afternoon in his bedroom when he’d told her we were together. He makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. And then another text came through. “Things I’ve never felt before.” And then the messages stopped. And the tears stopped. And something rose up in my chest and seemed to take over my whole body. I knew what I had to do. I didn’t even stop to think about it. There was just one obstacle to overcome first. I hovered by the kitchen door. My mum was tidying up while everyone else was sat in the lounge. “Mum. Is it okay if I just pop out for a bit?” I cautiously asked. She spun around, looking flabbergasted. “What do you mean?! Pop out where?!” she asked. I wasn’t surprised at her reaction. Going out on Christmas Day in our family just wasn’t a done thing. I thought about lying to her. Telling her that I was going to see Naomi. Maybe I could spin a lie that I’d forgotten to give her her present. But it didn’t really seem necessary to lie to my mum anymore. Not after what had happened the day I’d found out AJ had cheated on me and she’d put her hand on my leg and sat on my bed. It felt like we’d reached a bit of a turning point that day. I was still a little dubious to let her in on the whole truth though. “Just to see someone!” I said, my stomach twisting, a little. She narrowed her eyes and looked at me suspiciously. “Let me guess. Someone from school?” That was the lie I had spun that night I was going on my first date with Eddie in the summer. Only this time it was true. I blushed a little, but smirked too. My mum knew exactly which friend I was going to see. “Don’t be too long! It’s Christmas Day!” she ordered. But both her voice and her expression were soft. And then she gave me this affectionate grin. “Thanks, mum!” I said, grinning back. Then she playfully rolled her eyes. Which I thought was kind of funny, because it was usually me doing that to her. I had always thought that if I was ever stood on AJ’s doorstep again I would be filled with nerves and anxiety. But I wasn’t feeling that at all. Maybe the adrenaline and excitement of what was happening was overriding everything else? Or maybe it was just my sheer single minded determination of what I was doing? My heart fluttered as the front door opened. Even before the person behind it was revealed, I knew it was him. He looked so surprised standing in the doorway, his huge body bulging underneath his painted on jeans and the most adorable purple coloured Christmas jumper with a big snowman on it. He was even wearing a little green paper hat from a Christmas cracker. “Noah!” he said, with surprise. “Hi!” I said, with a nervous grin. AJ bit his lip, but his mouth curled into this big, happy grin. His cheeks were all flushed and rosy. “Have you got a thing for Christmas hats?” I asked. AJ’s eyes veered up and he suddenly whipped the paper hat off his head in embarrassment, which was so fucking adorable. Then his mouth curled back into a little grin. He no longer had his shaved head. His hair was back to the way it was before, though not as styled and preened as it usually had been. It was more fluffy like it was the day I bumped into him at the gym when he hadn’t expected to see me. It was kind of perfect. “Come in!” he said. My insides fluttered as I stepped inside AJ’s house. He closed the door behind me and we were stood close to each other. I wanted to touch him so badly. He had this coy, little grin on his face. It was like he couldn’t stop from smiling. And there they still were after all this time. Those fuck off massive butterflies in my stomach. All one hundred, thousand of them. The door to the living room opened and AJ’s mum appeared. “Oh, hello, Noah!” she said, surprised. A look of curiosity crept over her face as she looked at the two of us standing in the hallway together. It was almost as if she knew something was going on. Then her mouth curled into one of her big, warm smiles. “This is a nice surprise! Merry Christmas!” she said, leaning forwards and kissing me on the cheek. I could hear Harry Potter coming from the TV in the living room and behind her shoulder I could see Andy sitting down. Apparently even on Christmas Day he wore his black leather biker trousers. “Merry Christmas, Mrs Jones!” I said. “We’re just gonna go upstairs, mum!” AJ said. And then, trailing behind AJ, I felt that all too familiar rush of excitement as we ascended the stairs to his bedroom. His room looked exactly the same, apart from one thing. He’d changed the picture he had of himself stuck to his bedroom wall. Gone was the shot of him hitting a crab most muscular in his lime green posers while cheekily sticking his tongue out. And in its place was a picture of him hitting a similar most muscular on stage with his mouth wide open in the shiny pink trunks I’d bought him. It was from the guest posing spot he’d done at the bodybuilding show during the weekend we’d spent in London. I couldn’t quite believe where I was standing. That I was actually back in AJ Jones’ bedroom. Stood just a foot away from him as his thick chest bulged through the purple wool material of his cute Christmas jumper. He still looked happy. But nervous too. Even a little unsure. I suppose I couldn’t blame him. He’d sent me all those text messages. Opened up to me in the most wonderful and brave way. And I hadn’t responded to any of them. I knew what I had to do. I knew it was my turn to make the next move. “Thanks for the texts!” I said, my stomach twinging with nerves. AJ’s mouth curled into an adorable, coy grin. I stepped towards him and gently put my hand on his waist, feeling the soft material of his jumper on my skin. And then his muscular body was leaning into mine and his oh-so gorgeous face, with his cute button nose and his rosy cheeks was coming closer. And then my whole body exploded with joy as my lips met his and I was doing the thing that I had longed to do more than anything since the summer had come to an end. I was kissing AJ Jones. When we parted lips, we just smiled at each other, our foreheads touching. My hands were gripping his impossibly broad back and his ridiculous arms, which definitely felt bigger than before, were wrapped tightly around me. His scent and incredible mass engulfing me for the first time in four months. “Merry Christmas, Arthur-John!” I said. AJ’s grin grew wider. “Merry Christmas, future shredded muscle freak.” “Is it my imagination, or did you get bigger?” I asked, still squeezing him. His grin transformed into a cocky little smirk. “I’m bulking!” he said. My chest fluttered with excitement. “I’m competing next year!” he explained, with his eyebrows cheekily raised, knowing exactly what kind of effect those words would have on me. “Wanna help me tan up backstage again?” I grinned like crazy. “God yeah!” I exclaimed. He grinned back and then it faded. And then he was just looking at me with this pensive expression on his face. Like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. He inhaled and exhaled and his huge chest heaved up and down. Almost like he was releasing the last four months of heartache from his body. Still wrapped tightly around him, I looked back at him. AJ Jones, the bodybuilder. AJ Jones, the boy I fell in love with. AJ Jones, who broke my heart. If he broke it again, I’m not sure it would mend. He nuzzled his face and head into my neck. “I can’t believe you’re actually here!” he said. I never really left, I thought. But I didn’t say anything. I just sunk my head into his thick, bull neck and squeezed him tight. This time I wouldn’t let him go. THE END
    9 points
  2. It took most of my strength not to grab the guy and squeeze him so hard I’d probably had broken something. I just had this intense desire to hug him – to show him how I felt about him. He was pinching my hard nipples through the heavy shirt I was wearing and mumbling to himself quietly. I caught snippets of what he was saying – so huge, hard as hell, gonna piss on myself - and stuff like that. I could tell he was in some sort of muscle worship fantasy world and he did not want to be disturbed. That was fine with me; because not only were my nips getting pleasured roughly, I was also getting to take a closer look at the guy. It was very dark in the back room of “The Pit,” my favorite bar, but I could still see him clearly. I liked to come here because I fit in – the place was full of huge older men looking for young pups they could take care of. I was the definition of a muscle daddy. At ‘The Pit’ I was also known as the king of muscle daddies, because no one came close to matching my daddiness. I loved smaller guys that were into worshipping. I also loved a young buck that needed a wisdom figure to lead him. I didn’t care if people judged me or not, but it was good to be in a place where other guys got off on the same things I did. I had become good friends with many of the other huge older men that frequented the place. We even shared our pups, sometimes – or warned each other about dudes that weren’t worth the fuss. The guy chatting with himself in front of me was probably twenty-five – more than half my age. He was about two hundred pounds lighter and possibly eight to ten inches shorter, too. I was in daddy heaven – taking in how small he was. He fit the bill physically and I was hoping he’d have the internal affinities to make him a proper pup. He was a little more built than I liked ‘em, but that was fine. He had a wiry body that looked beautifully knotted in all the right places. It was a gymnast’s build and that made me hope he was very flexible. He kept his hair short and neatly trimmed – something that I insisted my pups do, so he was already doing well and we hadn’t even left the gate. He dressed the part, too – a Ralph Lauren button down, some khakis, and loafers with no socks. I was such a sucker for little prep boys. In college I had plowed my way through the Sigma Epsilon frat house and I still had a thing for ‘gators.’ That was a nickname I created because of my dick-hardening lust for all things Izod. If a dude wore bright red pants and a pink shirt I could cum on the spot. I was just into little prepsters and I didn’t apologize for it. Every now and then the little guy would squeeze my huge nubs just right and an intense thrill would shoot through my entire body. This is what made me want to crush the dude in my arms – not out of meanness, but because I wanted him so much. My big chest was like an avalanche of muscle spread out thickly wide before the guy. He’d stop his nipple play every now and then to cup his hand under one of my enormous pecs jutting behind the material of the shirt and he’d try to push up but the thing was too heavy and too stubbornly hard to move. This would make the guy squeal a little and then his mumbling would intensify. I had a feeling the kid could have played with my shelf all night long, but I had other plans. I reached down, grabbed him by his ass, and lifted his body upward. His legs wrapped around my waist instantly – a move I figured he had dreamed about all of his life. I knew I was showing off and that people in the bar were probably thinking I was acting crude, but I didn’t care. I was a big muscle daddy and making some pup almost cream in his pants because I could pick him up so easily was what I was supposed to do. I distinctly heard the dude let out an “oh god yes” as I moved him toward a stool at the bar. People parted as we moved through the crowd – some clearly jealous of my little friend. They wanted to be carried, too. I put the prepster down on the stool and then leaned his back against the bar behind him. He kept his legs locked around my waist – his feet hooked together just above my bulbous butt. His hands were still latched onto my man plugs and he was twisting even harder. I pressed my growing hardness into his balls and ass – kind of gently shoving his back against the wood of the bar. I wasn’t being abusive – it was just a natural reaction to his teasing grip on my nipples. While I had carried him the short distance I had marveled at how huge my hands felt holding his body. He was a decent sized guy, but compared to me he’d be considered pretty small. Or maybe I’d just be thought of as freakishly big. Either way, I was wild about how my thick long fingers could hold his tight ass even in one hand if I had wanted to. A thought shot through my mind – I wondered if I would have been able to palm the dude’s butt and hold him upside down. That would have been impressive. The fella twisted my nips perfectly and this caused me to slam my giant meat into his ass, which – in turn – slammed his body against the bar. I could tell he loved it, but it did cause him some pain. “Sorry man, but if you don’t let go of my nipples soon I’m not going to be responsible for any of the damage I cause to your body or this bar,” I threatened. He instantly lessened his grip on my protruding nubs – mainly from fear – but he also smiled broadly, clearly proud of the fact that he could bring me to a point of no control. He quickly spread his palms out on my chest and started massaging the mounds of muscle – mesmerized at how huge my upper body was. While he tried to see how many of his hands it could take to cover my entire pec shelf I, again, got a chance to look at the little guy. I swear if he told me his name was Biff later on I was going to gush out such a big load that he might need a life jacket. He was such the little preppy-meister. Dark wavy hair that looked like it was trimmed every week, green eyes the color of lagoons I’d swam in while visiting Hawaii, and an air about him that made it clear he was even more my type than previously thought. Even though I was a bona fide, card-carrying, little-pup-dominating muscle daddy that didn’t mean I was a babysitter. If a dude needed me to be his everything – his source of income, his self-esteem booster, and even his ass-wiper – then he was usually only good for some throw-down time in bed for one night. Being somebody’s daddy does not mean I think for them – it only means I try to influence what they think. It’s actually more stimulating for the older, wiser alpha if his pup is someone that questions things, argues sometimes, and, yes, even challenges his elders. I did not need a wimpy dude that sat on the sofa all day eating Bonbons. No, I needed someone that was successful and confident, himself. That made being a daddy so much more interesting – more fun – and exactly what I wanted. If a well-educated, well-motivated guy submitted himself to a daddy it was the ultimate compliment. A guy that is energetic and ‘in charge’ in other parts of his life, but wants to come home and let someone else be the lead is so much more appealing than someone who doesn’t care. I did not want to get my hopes up, but signs pointed to the probability that this guy was a muscle daddy’s dream come true. He was drinking scotch that cost four times the amount of what I usually ordered and he was wearing a Movado watch – at what people would call a biker bar, no less. I decided it was time to find out a little more about this potential pup. “What do you do?” I asked, loudly – to draw him out of his lustful trance of my chest. “Big mature men,” he replied, looking me in the eyes. I saw confidence in those pools of green and it made me thrust my crotch against his ass hard. He moaned a little – again loving the fact that he could make me react that way. I made a face – trying really hard to show my disapproval even though his answer had thrilled me. Well, the tone of his answer had thrilled me the most. “Oh, you mean for work,” he said – clearly getting the fact that I was teasingly not pleased. He took an apologetic tone and added, “I own an internet company.” He then went on to name the company and it was one I recognized. I also knew the company had recently gone public. I further knew it was reported that the owner had become a billionaire. He recognized in my eyes the fact that I knew all of this. He also quickly gathered that it satisfied me in some way. He was like a sprinter that had just made it over the first hurdle. I watched a specific shift in the man’s attitude at that moment and realized it matched the new paradigm I was moving into, as well. I was moving, for him, beyond that ‘this is just a big hot older man I’ll let fuck me for one night’ starting point. We were beginning a little muscle minuet that was certainly going to last for a while. He needed to test the waters, too. “What do you do?” he asked. “Little preppy men with tight asses,” I replied. He tried to make a disapproving face at my answer, but it was kind of hard to hide how much what I said thrilled him. This time, he actually shoved his butt into my still-hardening cock and we both let out soft moans. He smiled at me, but made it clear he was going to wait until I gave an honest answer. “I own a construction company and have multiple properties around town,” I answered and loved how this answer thrilled him. It was clear that he, like me, had always hoped to find a muscle daddy that didn’t need supporting. I went on to blow his mind by telling him the name of the company and a few of the places I owned. I didn’t mention all of them because I didn’t want him to be intimidated. “So, the big daddy has some brains, too, I see,” he said – and I could immediately sense it was a huge compliment. “And I see the little pup doesn’t need someone to take care of him,” I said, choosing my words carefully because I needed him to answer in a specific way. “That, my big friend, depends on what you mean by ‘take care of.’ Do I need someone to put food on my table? No. Do I need someone to take me to the opera? No. I do, however, need someone to put me in my proper place and keep me there,” he answered – and the seriousness behind what he was saying was quite clear. My cock was now fully hard – mainly because I was suddenly realizing that this creature in front of me, this small man I could easily toss around physically, was teetering near my ideal mate. I knew there were still hurdles to jump over – probably for me, as well – but I was beginning to sense that we understood each other on a level that was imperceptible to other people. I pulled my big arms forward – causing the dude to come off the stool. He was, again, held in my big hands – crotch against crotch and his face a half a foot below mine. I looked down into his eyes and felt an electric charge that seemed both familiar and totally new at the same time. I could see in his expression that he felt the same way, too. “I don’t need a kid, if that’s what you mean. Let someone else change your diapers. I do however need a . . .” I paused to collect my thoughts and then continued, “I do however need a guy that I can tame, mentor, spar with, and dominate.” Part 2 The last word actually made his cock twitch hard. I could feel it next to mine. His entire body seemed to vibrate, as well, as if in unison with his stiff meat. I could have sworn the guy whispered the word ‘finally’ but it could have just been my own hopeful imagination. I could feel his ass clamping tightly together, as well. I didn’t know exactly what was causing his reaction, but I knew I liked it. Again, it took almost all of my strength not to squeeze the dude so hard that something broke. It was like I wanted his body to melt into mine. I had a need to be so close to him that a mere hug wouldn’t and couldn’t be enough to satisfy. Instead, my big paws squeezed his hard ass tightly causing the dude to wince a little, but he also gurgled something aboutThe me being ‘so big and strong.’ I knew it was best to distract myself from my intense desires of the moment, so I went back to asking questions. “What’s you name, kid,” I said, smiling at his face. “Bradley,” he replied. It wasn’t Biff, but it was close. He definitely looked like a Bradley and I bet he was a ‘the second’ or better yet ‘the third.’ That would make things even more complete. Hearing his name made me want to flex my guns, so I tensed my arms as I held his body at my waist. His eyes shot exactly where I hoped they would when my biceps swelled thicker. He mouthed some words but it wasn’t hard to see they were ‘fuck yeah.’ This high-powered businessman, this preppy ‘I come from old money’ dude clearly got off on things more powerful than him. I bet he owned a fast car. I bet he employed a trainer that looked like a trainer should – huge, hot, and virile. I bet he loved to skydive. The guy probably loved being near things that reminded him of his own mortality – his limits. I was pretty sure he loved anything that could subdue him. That’s why my arms easily caught and kept all of his attention. He could feel the power of my guns, since they were easily holding him in the air, but looking at their power – taking in their hugeness and beauty along with knowing what they could do – that’s what turned him on even more. It was like he was some kind of tactile learner, who needed to see and experience things to believe them. But he definitely loved it when things looked powerful. I could again feel his cock twitching for joy as he gazed at my tensed arms. There’s something special that happens to a mature muscle man when he figures out some young thing is attracted to his daddy strength and size. It’s hard to explain, but there’s a switch that goes on inside the big man’s head and he instantly intuits what will make the other guy happy. I’m pretty sure it comes with age and not just from being big. I’ve seen some big men in my life that had no idea how to please little fellas. But give a muscleman some years and a whole lot of experience and the wisdom flows as easily as a posing routine. My dick registered the little pup’s reaction to my tensed arms way before my brain did. It’s like the synapses from what my hands were feeling and all that my eyes were witnessing decided to go south first, alerting my cock to potential pleasure before it did the same for my brain. The pup’s expression as he gaped upon my massive biceps signified another hurdle had been leapt over in this little muscle tango he and I were doing. I was passing some test, moving to the next round, and being moved to the front of the class in this guy’s opinion – and that was just as important as him getting to new levels in my estimation. In order for a young small buck to want to be controlled, subdued, or dominated he needs to trust his master completely. He’s got to want his master completely. I learned a long time ago there are guys out there that say they love big men, but I quickly realized they knew nothing about true muscle worship. Let me give all my big muscled brothers a little word of advice – if you come across small dudes who think that worshipping your big bod is only about them touching or you flexing please turn around and run. For one thing, the verbal ascent to worship needs to be intense and should almost equal the final explosion. A true worshipper is not afraid to talk about your huge muscles or their thirst for said mounds of beef. A sure sign of a lousy worshipper is a silent worshipper. Another way of weeding out unsuccessful worshippers is listening close to their terminology. If a small dude can only say ‘I love your fucking huge arms’ and ‘Wow, what a giant chest,’ it’s more than likely you have only a muscle whore on your hands. Don’t get me wrong – there’s a place for muscle whores in every big man’s life, but they aren’t meant to be long term. They’re good when you want to just get a superficial boost to your ego. These guys are what I call the lightweights. They usually shoot their loads before you even get fully charged – mainly because they just love bulges – and not what has gone into making those bulges. These shallow dudes will squirt all over the place as soon as you flex a little or let them touch your body. Rarely are they concerned about you getting off and the thought of you being a little rough makes them go nelly screaming out of your apartment. Like I said before, there’s a place for such guys in the world – but I’ve grown wise in my old age and I’ve learned to look for something much more substantial – something a lot deeper. A true muscle daddy worshipper appreciates your wisdom as much as he appreciates your size. He’s into your bulges – I guarantee that – but he’s just as excited about seeing how those muscles influence your daddy psyche, as well. The guys that turn out to be keepers need their big man to be three-dimensional. A good little pup’s says about his muscle daddy, “He, of course, needs to have the body from hell, but he better have the attitude from hell, too.” I’m not talking about being some ax murderer or psychopath – I mean the muscled dude has to have a cockiness that enables him to squeeze his pup’s neck hard for a greeting or can make flirts back away from his pup with just a low growl or an intense stare. If a young stud is a real worshipper he’ll be looking for the daddies that have the third aspect of a complete package – the big man has to have experience. This is why most young men can’t reach true muscle daddy-dom. They don’t have the years that make them fantastic kissers, charming beyond your wildest dreams, pro sexual athletes, and – most importantly – men with a sixth sense about exactly what will make their pup happy. It’s, of course, rare that such specific and powerfully-charge individuals can find each other, but it does happen. I knew many couples that were living in daddy-pup bliss and had been for years. Unfortunately, that special prize had eluded me for all of my life. I had been with some fantastic guys – but most of them had merely turned out to be muscle whores. They were into my hard beef, but could not have cared less about my thoughts, my wisdom, or my need to truly dominate a guy. Let’s stop and get one thing straight – the word dominate has gotten a bad rap in recent years. Everyone views it as something negative or demeaning. I think the great work in the area of spousal abuse had really brought the wrong kind of attention to the type of domination I’m referring to. In the muscle daddy world – to dominate means there first had to be an invitation. It’s like the big man is standing on the side of the ballroom and he only enters the dance if some young pup walks up to him and asks. That’s why most of my evenings with so-called muscle worshippers merely ended in them getting off on my massiveness. That’s all they wanted. But it can be so much more – it can be so much more empowering to be dominated. It’s when that special someone trusts you so completely and needs you so completely that they actually request you to become something special for them – something more powerful. That’s when the true magic happens. That’s when lives change. And what’s crazy – what you might not fully understand – is that the dominator is subdued, as well. He becomes a slave to his pup. There’s no way for you to fully understand until it happens to you, but let’s just say that you give up all rational thought when you become somebody’s full fledge muscle daddy. You become their protector, their trainer, their disciplinarian, and so much more – but you also become tied to them in a way that all the fucking strength in your body could not undo no matter how hard you try. You become theirs as much as they become yours. So, you can see how thrilling it could be to pass certain hurdles in this dance the young pup and I were doing. I could feel my own heart swelling with hope – with anticipation over what the next few hours could bring. I had been on the precipice many times before – only to be a solo jumper, the would-be pup preferring the safety of the ledge instead of joyously falling into the abyss of true muscle worship. My fantasies of what might be had taken me to some other place and the pup had finally torn his eyes away from my bulging arms to notice (another sign of a true worshipper – caring about what was happening with the daddy). He wanted to bring me back into the glorious here and now. “And what’s your name, sir?” he asked, clearly knowing full well what the word at the end of his sentence would do to me. To a muscle daddy – a good one – hearing the word ‘sir’ sends a jolt to his balls that equals the electricity it takes to light up a small town. My mother always made me use the words ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ to show that I was raised right and I think it is a very similar situation when pup’s say ‘sir.’ This dude was sending me a message with a simple three-letter word. He wanted me to know that he was raised right when it came to respect and adoration of elders. He also wanted me to know that he had some basic knowledge in the world of submission. Since gay men were now allowed to live such open lives the new ‘in the closet’ was when it came to fetishes. Gay men today had learned to talk in code to make clear what they were into – or what they weren’t into. The word ‘sir’ was definitely part of the muscle daddy worshipping scene – and it was used frequently to help others know if they could proceed with their flirting or not. The pup was clearly inviting me to move to the next level of our ever-evolving understanding of each other. We were peeling back the layers of the onion until we got to the core – the place where we both would be free to assume the roles we both desperately wanted. Each of us, however, knew to take it slowly. One false step could ruin the entire dance and we were definitely far too engaged in the glorious ball to let that foolishly happen. “People call me Butch,” I replied. “Of course they do,” he said seriously. “I’m glad to know your name, but I think I’ll just call you ‘sir’ if that’s okay with you.” There was that word again. My cock thumped against his hard-on. He felt it – I could tell by the smile that sprang to his face. My body had betrayed me. It gave away in a clear and precise way what that word did to me. I could see that he was overjoyed to recognize that fact. I got the feeling my little pup was checking off some list in his head as he got to know me better in the same way I was doing it for him. This seemed to solidify our connection even more. He, of course wasn’t going to be a total gentleman and let my body’s involuntary jolt of pleasure go without being alluded to. “You deserve the respect, sir,” he said, emphasizing the last word on purpose – and smiling even more when my cock again throbbed noticeably. “I know I do,” I shot back – my cock was uncontrollably reacting to this guy’s tone of respect, but that didn’t mean he was in charge. Cockiness was one of the three supports of being a muscle daddy and I could call on that reservoir of confidence whenever I wanted. I truly knew how incredible I was – and not only did it make me sure of myself, it also helped me to shower that same feeling on others. “I get the feeling you can be the perfect respectful pup.” I had anticipated his lust for that certain word correctly. His entire body shook with revealing pleasure – a response similar to mine. We both realized another hurdle had been easily sailed over. I loved the fact that he had to close his eyes – until the joyous jolt of worshipper euphoria passed. I wondered briefly if he was also saying a silent prayer to the muscle gods in hopes the beefy older dude holding him might be the real deal. I added my own plea to Mount Olympus or wherever for the same thing. I was beginning to worry that I was moving beyond a point of return. I was so hopeful about this pup I was beginning to worry that I might be projecting a lot of his reactions. I tried to be reasonable and realistic, but it was hard when all the signs pointed to your desired end. Part 3 A true pup knows he is never a slave. He can walk away from the relationship at any time. That’s part of the intense thrill between a daddy and his young mate. If the big dude is a true muscle daddy then he’s like this huge pup-magnet that pulls on the smaller dude with such a force that the smaller dude never even contemplates leaving his master’s side. It’s the most natural and comfortable relationship ever created – pup needing security and daddy needing adoration. The more your love grows for an admiring young thing the more you want to protect him, mentor him, and even grow him. Yeah, part of being a good muscle daddy is knowing that you should always be working to create your replacement. Big guys are a dime a dozen but true muscle gods – the kind that can truly breed others are very rare. Of course, it takes two to tango. You have to have the perfect pup to train. If you get a good one then half your work is already done. I was lucky – being a pup builder was now in my DNA. I had been formed by one of the best. The day he had set me free to go and find my own little men had been one of the hardest in my life, but I had realized how important it was. I was carrying on a tradition – one that had been around since the beginning of time. I needed to go plow my DNA into some little worshipper that, in turn, would someday grow big enough and strong enough to train other pups into becoming muscle daddies. It was the evolution of huge men. “Butch, sir, I’m looking for something,” the pup said, pulling me back into the moment. “Well, actually I’m looking for someone. But not just anyone. I’m looking for someone powerful, because I’m looking to be tamed and it’s going to take someone very, very strong to accomplish that.” More beautiful words had never been spoken. What Bradley was basically doing was giving me permission to be myself – completely. He was taking a chance and letting me know that he wanted to be dominated. Again, he was speaking in code – testing the water to see if I might be exactly what he was looking for. A pretty muscle boy would simply just flex and say, “I’ve got the body you need.” That’s not what Bradley wanted, though. He could probably get any handsome big man he’d ever laid eyes on. That was a simple catch for a guy like him. But to find a guy that saw the situation in its totality was very hard. Bradley wanted a guy that had the muscles, the inner strength, the patience, the attitude, the intelligence, the wisdom, and all that comes with being a true daddy. It wasn’t about getting laid – it was about being able to submit yourself completely to another man. I also had a feeling Bradley was powerful as shit in the business world. I had a feeling he had people jumping at his every word all the time. He was looking for someone that would make him jump. He was looking for a guy that would laugh at him if he uttered a command. I had a feeling I was Bradley’s man, but I knew there were some more tests before we found out if we were “made” for each other. I thought it was important, however, that I answer his latest question in a way that he’d never forget. I placed the little guy back down on the barstool. I then leaned down and flexed my big gun right beside his head. I then placed my face against his – pushing his cheek, ear, and head into my hard bulging biceps. My mouth was next to his ear. The guy moaned slightly from the feeling of being surrounded by muscle and a scruffy beard. “I can be as powerful as you want me to be . . . and then some,” I whispered softly, flexing my arm even harder to emphasize my point. The dude sucked in air and I’m sure he got kind of dizzy. His body was in reaction overload. I could hear him whispering as he counted to ten over and over – clearly trying to prevent himself from spewing. I had answered him in almost the exact way of his fantasies – I’m sure. I could tell his brain was battling between thinking I was too good to be true and the fact that he wanted to submit to me completely right then and there. Bradley was a sharp businessman, though. I could tell. He knew not to blow his wad – forgive the pun – on an unproven entity, but everything in his body was confirming I was a muscle daddy beyond compare. I decided to drive home my point. “Need something broken, Bradley? I can break it for you,” I said. “Need someone punished? I can punish ‘em and I can be as brutal as you want me to be. Need to be pounded dude? I’m the best pounder you’ll ever meet. Need protection? Nothing’s ever going to get through me. Need something big to hold onto? Well, I think you’ve already realized that’s not a problem, either.” “Sir, if you don’t be quiet – even just for a minute – I’m going to pass out,” he said putting a hand to my mouth. “If you want something massive to be flexed, I’ve got lots of big things to tense,” I said out of the side of my mouth, just to tease him more. He turned his hand sideways so it would cover my lips completely. I took the chance to kiss his palm gently. He opened his eyes, which had been closed so he wouldn’t spurt out a big load, and gazed at my face. His look said so much. There was a deep pleading that almost choked me up. The dude was clearly desperate for me to be the one – for me to be real. I understood this, because I felt the same way about him. Earthquakes, hurricanes, and tornadoes would not have moved me from this man at that moment. Something incredibly magical was happening. Two souls were meeting on a plane that was only perceptible to them. No one else in the room would have understood or even felt what we were feeling. He bit his upper lip and forced his breathing to not be so hard. He had been on the brink of ejaculation, but something much more intimate was taking over. “I really need this to be real,” he said – and I knew it would be the most heartfelt thing I’d ever hear in my entire life. “I know it’s been less than a few hours, but my body had never been this fucking sure. My head says yes. My gut says yes. My heart says yes. And my cock screams yes. Hell, I even think my small toe says yes. But don’t take me down this road, big man, unless you’re sure, too. I could get lost in you. I could get very lost. You could break my bones and I’d finally heal, but I’m pretty sure if you broke my spirit, I’d never trust anyone ever again. So walk away now, if this isn’t right for you, too.” I leaned in and kissed him. I realized – at that particular moment – no words would be sufficient. I knew that I needed to show him how I felt – instead of trying to prove it with weak sentences. He needed the kind of confirmation that only strong lips and a prying tongue could give. Our kiss turned ravenous instantly. He grabbed the side of my face and pulled my head into his with a force that even impressed a big guy like me. His tongue actually gave mine a run for its money and we battled powerfully as we traded spit. I, of course, would prove something different at a later time. We both were moaning a little and I could sense that people were staring. I didn’t care. This little fucker knew how to lip-lock like a pro. I was tensing every muscle in my body trying not to explode because of his incredible oral skills. I finally had to pull my face from his – fearful that I might orgasm at any second. “Holy shit, little man, where’d you learn to do that?” I asked, reaching up to fan my face. “Just now, sir. I needed you to know how much I cared.” he replied. “Well it worked,” I shot back. “That’s like a secret weapon, dude.” “Did I find the big man’s kryptonite?” he asked. “Hell no, just the opposite. Kisses like that can make me take on the world,” I answered. “Something I’d love to watch,” he teasingly said. “You need a big knight in shining armor, little man?” I asked, deciding to toy with him, too. “I’d prefer a muscle daddy in leather, sir,” he replied. I had anticipated him to continue the playful banter, but – instead – he went for honesty. A big surge of juice shot from my balls when I heard his answer. The little guy was so spontaneous and such a mystery. He could be so cheeky and joking at one moment and then he’d surprise me with a comment I knew revealed corners of his soul. I’m sure part of what made a good businessman was to always keep them guessing – and he was doing that quite well with me. I was still being tested. He was making sure I had the ability to keep up with him – to banter with him when he needed to play and to turn serious when it was time to – even if only briefly – open up. I’d seen his type before – but no one had ever been this deliciously honest before. Most guys could volley a cute conversation for a while but usually they’d become distracted by my body or quickly become bored. It seemed like this guy was a pro – but I still treaded lightly. Neither of us wanted to be hurt – and we both knew it could still happen. “I’ve got a drawer full of fun leather apparel. Maybe you’d like to see me model it sometime?” I said, noting how his crotch twitched at the statement. “I plan on it, sir,” he replied – and his tone told me something that solidified this guy as a major contender for my next long-term relationship – maybe he’d even be the ‘one.’ “It’s not going to be tonight, though, is it?” I asked, crossing my fingers in my mind, hoping for the right answer. “We both know the answer to that already, sir,” he replied, smiling broadly. “If I came home with you tonight I’d be just one of them. You’d be the same for me. Either one of us can easily find distractions, but I have the feeling that you’re actually looking for the same thing I am. You’re looking for honesty, dedication, adoration, and someone who needs you desperately. Someone that needs all the things you can offer and all the things you can do. You’ve been testing me all night long – just like I have you. Sure, we can go get our rocks off at your place if we wanted to. That would be nice, I’m sure – but we can do that any night of the week. What’s been happening to both of us during these last few hours only happens once or twice in a lifetime. I’m going to wine and dine you, my friend. I’m going to show you off as much as I can. I want to see how you do outside of this bar – which is clearly your domain. I’m simply a visitor in the kingdom of muscle daddies. I have a feeling there’s no test I could give you that you won’t ace easily, but when it comes to protecting my heart I have no problem sticking to a game plan. I’m sure all of this makes sense, doesn’t it.” “Most of it makes perfect sense. You seem to have one part wrong, though,” I said – leaning in to emphasize my point. “Oh,” he said, looking a little disappointed that I might say something wrong, “What’s that?” “If someone’s going to be leading the wining and dining it’s going to be me,” I said, oozing so much confidence my own words even turned me on a little. The man stopped breathing. I had usurped his authority – his leadership abilities – without him even seeing it coming. This didn’t distress him – no, it actually did the opposite. It thrilled him. He had forgotten one of the golden rules of being with a muscle daddy – the big guy’s always in control. I had assured my dominance in just one sentence and he loved it. “Of course, sir,” he said, quietly. I grabbed his chin softly with my big hand and again brought my face into his. This time, he was ready for me from the start. His lips, tongue, and mouth took over the kiss in a way that made my toes curl tightly in my boots. I also squeezed his chin harder which made him moan with happiness. The guy shot a hand up to my biceps, copping a feel of my muscle mountain. I could tell by the way he latched on to my gun that he was falling for me, big time. I was feeling the same way about him. I pushed his face back a little, just so I could remind him of who was boss. “Did you forget your proper place, little stud,” I asked, smiling so he’d know I was teasing. “Yes sir,” he sheepishly replied. “Don’t let it happen again,” I said, pulling his face back into a passionate kiss and then letting him go. Bradley let go of my big biceps and made a fist with his hand. He started punching my big mound of muscle and then moaned a little when the hard thing didn’t give at all. I tensed it even more and he put a little more power behind his punch, marveling at how the thing still didn’t budge when he smacked it with his clenched hand. He kept pounding it harder and harder – which, in turn, made my cock get harder and harder. He finally stopped – probably because his fingers had started to hurt. He pulled back and looked up into my face. “Hard enough for you?” I asked. “I don’t know, sir, you’re not inside me, yet,” he quickly replied and I almost fell over from the thrill his words gave me. “Aw, little man, you can’t come out of nowhere with comments like that. You have no idea what that does to me,” I said, closing my eyes briefly to calm my dick down. “You see, that’s the problem,” he shot back, “I know exactly what it does to you . . . sir.” “Are you sure you’re going to be able to handle what you’ve started here, little fella? I can be wilder than a herd of stampeding buffalo when I get a little excited,” I warned him. “I hope you’re more than just a little excited, sir,” he said with an impish smile. “I’m feeling like I may go ‘all in’ for this thing happening between us, so I’d like to know that I’m turning you on something fierce.” “We’ve got to slow down, little man or I’m going to either explode or rip you apart,” I said, quickly putting an end to our little teasing session. “I hope that explains how fierce I am.” I meant it, too. I had gotten jacked to the point where I could have easily gone beyond the point of no return. I wanted the little guy so much that my body was screaming for me to attack. That’s the thing about finding a true worshipper, though – he’s worth the wait. You force yourself to not give into your basic urges, just so you can be with the ideal mate. Even though I was a pro muscle daddy, I still didn’t trust myself when it came to preventing myself from giving in to my need for pleasure. The bigger a man is the bigger his desire. I was aching for my new buddy so much that all I could think about was him being speared on my hard rod. But that needed to wait. I was still convinced that he could be so much more than just a good fuck. I moved away from him so the heat between us could cool a little. Part 4 “God, you’re so tiny,” I said and he could tell it was a compliment. “You like that?” he asked. “You know I do. Need a big man to protect that small body?” I continued. “Ummm, yes, but I also need you to play with me, too. And you know without even asking that I like it when a big guy plays rough,” he replied, squeezing my nipples hard. “Aw fuck, I want to squirt so badly,” I said, pushing his body up against the bar. “This common decency crap is overrated. I’d like to have my way with you right here, right now.” “I have a feeling nothing . . . or no one . . . could stop you, sir,” he replied – clearly loving the fact that I was so close to being out of control. “Wild horses couldn’t stop me when I get going, Bradley. I’m like a gray-haired Hercules defeating an arena full of competitors one by one and not even breaking a sweat. If you’re the prize, little man, I’m going to destroy anything that challenges me,” I said, in a deep rumbling voice that emphasized the words in a way that seemed god-like. A true muscle daddy exudes power in everything he does. Taking a swig of beer or even doing something as mundane as folding laundry is naturally done in a way that emphasizes the man’s size and strength. The daddy doesn’t even need to try and be something – he just automatically is . . . huge, intimidating, and jaw-droppingly impressive. It’s like there’s an aura of hardness and mass that surrounds him and envelopes anyone and anything that comes near him. I knew I made the world around me seem smaller – rooms, furniture, men. This had been a fact for so long I had become oblivious to it by this point. It was only when little men became tongue-tied or frozen in awe that I was reminded of how intense it could be to meet me for the first time. Or when I accidently broke something, because I used too much power – that was always a reminder, as well. I put out so much muscle daddy heat that Bradley was starting to perspire a little. The dude couldn’t drink in enough of my body or attitude to satisfy him even for a few minutes. It was like he was scared I was a mirage that was going to disappear any second. I was so turned on by my preppy friend I had become a little love-drunk. I leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I want to hold your body against the ceiling with one hand,” I said, letting the intimacy of the moment emphasize my point and keeping my bearded chin lightly against his neck. How the little man kept from spurting out a major load was beyond me. I knew, instinctively, that my comment was going to release something primal in the guy. I was this elder giant emphasizing all of my daddiness in one little statement. First, there was the fact that I’d be lifting him with one hand – that was almost too much by itself. Second, he would be completely defenseless and I’d barely be using even half of my true power. Third, I was more than twice his age and I’d be easily reminding him how simply he could be manhandled. Lastly, everyone in the bar would instantly know how inferior they all were and, at the same time, wish they were in Bradley’s place. There was certainly power in my biceps – power beyond Bradley’s imagination – but there was even more strength in my words . . . in my attitude. I let my warm breath caress the side of his face and neck as he swallowed hard and let my words sink in. The little man was desperately trying to conceive what it would feel like to be pressed in the air by one of my massive arms. He was letting his backside dream about being smashed against the wood above him. At the same time, however, I knew he wanted to force these visions from his head so he would not explode in some muscle daddy induced eruption. If he hadn’t been mine before that moment, I now knew Bradley submitted to me completely. He wanted to give up all control and let the daddy beast in front of him lead in all things – sexual and beyond. I decided to not play fair. “And while I easily hold you in place, I’d flex my other big arm so you’d have something monstrous to gaze upon from way up there,” I whispered. Every time I worked out I’d always take time between sets to flex in front of the mirror. Most people thought I was just checking out my progress, but what I really was doing was taking a look at what my little worshippers always saw. I made it a habit to look at myself from their eyes – from their perspective. This inspired me much more than how I might see things. I’d been huge for so long I’d really forgotten how impressive it was – but not when I saw some guy’s face lit up like a Christmas tree as he gawked at my muscles. Being a muscle daddy fairy that granted little men’s fantasy wishes was what made all of the workouts worthwhile. I built my body beyond big merely because little men like Bradley could come close to passing out just because I whispered what I might do. Pinning him against the ceiling would have been a simple feat for me – telling him that I could do it, however, was even more fun. His imagination – even though it couldn’t come close to comprehending the real thing – went wild and took him places where a mere act of strength could not. Later on, when I truly lifted him with one arm, he’d remember this moment and realize his fantasy was sorely insufficient in comparison. My comments had made Bradley step off into muscle heaven. He was completely in lust. “What do you say to that, Bradley, man?” I asked, keeping my lips close to his ear. “I . . . uh . . . I . . .” he stammered, clearly still trying desperately to control his body. “No need to speak, little man. Your body radiates your answer. You take a few minutes to recover. I’m not going anywhere. I feel like the luckiest muscle daddy in the world, right now. I get the feeling I’ve won a prize sent from the heavens,” I said, pulling my head away from his and staring down at the frozen pup – clearly scared that any motion whatsoever would make him convulse in a pleasure dump. The poor dude just stared forward – not wanting to move at all. I knew I needed to give him some time. I used the short break to reflect on something I had been contemplating recently. I have no idea when a guy graduates into muscle daddy-dom. I know it has something to do with age, but I knew a lot of older men that weren’t even close to being a muscle daddy. I also knew it had something to do with size, but there were lots of big men that couldn’t be considered for the title – no matter how much they wanted it. I also knew it definitely had a lot to do with attitude, but some guys just assumed it meant you had to be mean or constantly domineering – and it was so much more than that. Lately, I had realized that while all of those things were definitely needed for you to become a muscle daddy, it was clearly something else that tipped the scale for a guy. “You alright there, little Bradley?” I asked, checking on the guy and smiling when he let out a slight whimper – making it clear he needed more time. So, what I’d come to understand about muscle daddies was that a guy got big, a guy grew older, and a guy developed the right attitude, but it was the little men that were the professors handing out the diplomas. You couldn’t be a muscle daddy on your own – since that just meant you were a huge older man living by himself. You needed the worshipper – the awe-struck little one – the Bradley’s of the world to make you a muscle daddy. I couldn’t remember the exact moment when I was awarded the title, but I could remember instances where the transformation had started. The moment in the produce section of a grocery store when a young man had dropped the two grapefruits he was holding and they rolled across the floor because I had come up beside him and my giant arm had shaken him a little, but he had fallen apart as soon as he turned to take in all of my daddy-ness. Or the time the UPS man had turned as rigid as a statue when I opened the door wearing only flimsy cotton gym shorts. He couldn’t say or do anything. I had to take the box, sign the little machine they use, and then carry the guy and set him back in his truck. It took him about thirty minutes to recover. I knew it was time to check in with Bradley, again. “You alright there, sport?” I asked and, again, smiled when all I got was a whimper and a slight nod. Another moment when I realized I was becoming the daddy of most guys’ dreams happened at the hardware store. I hadn’t realized the small dude helping me was seriously infatuated with me, since I was focused on some item that was a few feet above both of us on a top shelf. The guy said he’d go get the ladder and I told him there was no need – I was kind of in a rush. I simply grabbed him by the waist and lifted him up so he could reach what I needed. It had seemed like an easy solution. I had not anticipated, however, what it would do to the poor kid. As soon as I got him hoisted into the air his body started flopping around in my hands like he was having some kind of seizure. It took me a few seconds to realize what was happening. I was kind of embarrassed I had caused him to ejaculate so hard, so I just held him in the air until he stopped cumming. He grabbed the item and I set him back on the floor, apologizing profusely. He merely looked up at me and said thank you, sir. Looking back on that memory, I now realize that the ‘sir’ at the end of his statement of gratitude would become the telling sign of when you had become a muscle daddy. “Drink . . . please, sir,” Bradley suddenly said in a soft voice, as if he had known what I was thinking. I immediately knew what he needed. I brought his glass up to his lips and let him take a small sip. He still stood there frozen, as if he were concentrating very hard on something. I could see he still needed more time. I went back to thinking about the word ‘sir.’ It was when waiters started saying things to me like ‘right away, sir’ or bartenders saying ‘here’s your drink, sir’ that I truly began to realize my new role. I grew a bushy mustache and always had thick stubble across the bottom of my face. I made sure my clothes emphasized all my massive bulges and I started making sure my movements were determined and strong – flexing when I did normal things. Crowds at bars or in the gym started parting when I came walking up. I no longer paid for drinks at bars unless I wanted to – admirers always bought them for me with a ‘this is for you, sir’ accompanying them. Upgrades on flights, at hotels, or being given other free stuff was a common occurrence. And then there were the open-mouths, saucer-sized eyes, and hard crotches gifted to me on a daily basis. I started marveling at how men chose to hide their erections – the doctor with his clip board held at waist level, the businessman that wouldn’t stand up from his desk when I prepared to leave, the motorcycle cop that kept his helmet at crotch level as I flexed my way out of a ticket, and the trainer at my gym who confessed to wearing three pairs of tight underwear on days he knew I’d be working out – both to keep his hardness flat and to soak up any leakage. It really was astounding how I had so easily moved into the role of an extreme muscle daddy. And now my title was being ignited beyond my wildest dreams because of the fire my body had stoked in Bradley. He made me want to be an even better elder muscleman. “Mind if I come back in, Bradley?” I asked as I moved in closer to the fellow. The little guy had returned from muscle heaven. He looked up at me with a smile and nodded. I placed my big hand on the back of his neck, squeezing kind of hard. I knew he was at a place where intimate contact no longer threatened to release a tsunami in his pants. The poor guy winced as I squeezed, but I knew he could handle it. I also knew he wanted it. “Had to drift away to muscle la-land for a little while, huh, Bradley?” I teasingly asked. “You can be a little too much, sir,” the small guy responded. “But that’s a good thing, right?” I added. “Definitely, sir,” he answered. “When it comes to you, sir, there’s no way I could have too much of a good thing.” “Aw, kiddo, that’s probably one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me,” I said, squeezing his neck even harder and watching his face scrunch up in appreciated pain. “You like it when I use my strength, don’t you?” “Yes sir,” he answered with tight lips, even after I had stopped squeezing. Part 5 “You know, Bradley, I should come visit you at work some day,” I said, taking a sip of my beer and pressing up against his hard cock at he sat on the stool with my big body between his legs. “Get a good look at you in your expensive suit, running your big company, and telling lots of people what to do. I’d make your big office seem small – you know, like the way a big elephant seems to make a tall tree shrink. Maybe I could bend something metal as you talk on the phone – sending you back to muscle heaven and making it impossible for you to concentrate. Or I could just stand behind you when your board members want to come in and say something unflattering to you. You know, intimidating them just with my presence. How about I just wear a tight tank top and shorts – making sure all of my muscle daddy massiveness is so emphasized that no one would be able to get any work done – especially you. I could put you on your huge desk and lift both it and you into the air for a little exercise. Sound like a plan, Bradley?” “Yes sir,” he replied – clearly loving every part of the idea. “One of our attorneys likes to bully me, sir.” “Really,” I said, thrusting my massive thigh against his crotch, “Well, we can’t have that, now can we. You just point out the guy and I’ll fold him up so he fits in his briefcase. No one bullies my little Bradley. And I mean no one. Tell me who else I can take care of for you, sweetheart.” “Well, there’s a neighbor near my beach house that likes to blare loud music all the time and ignores all of our requests to turn it down,” Bradley quickly answered, clearly excited by the idea of me taking care of some people for him. “He’s got a posse of bodyguards, though, so that could be a problem.” I smiled and brought my arms up into a double biceps flex – making sure my massive peaks were tensed into hard, intimidating muscle. That ever-so-familiar shocked awe-struck look swept across the small man’s face. The conversation had to stop for a few seconds so his brain could catch up with the rest of his body. It was difficult for him to fully comprehend my size – or my obvious power. I took a glance to the right and to the left, wanting to savor the moment through his eyes. Seeing the giant mounds of muscle the way a guy that was never even going to get close to being my size would view them. My cock hardened even more as I beheld my biceps in the way he was clearly admiring them. “Bouncers, bodyguards, thugs, and the like have all tried to get the best of this muscle daddy, son,” I said, making sure my voice was full of swagger and cockiness, “But nobody’s even come close. You’ll love it when I toss guys through the air like they were just wadded up paper. And what about watching me crush huge speakers with my arms or between these massive thighs. Or maybe I just push your neighbors house into the ocean. How does that sound?” We both knew I wasn’t super strong, but it made no difference. Just thinking about me doing the things I could – tossing a guy through the air – and the things I couldn’t was enough to turn us both on even more. I hadn’t thought that was even possible. But seeing Bradley contemplate me taking care of his neighbor for him was almost enough to send me into ejaculating bliss. It was like seeing a kid meet someone pretending to be a superhero. Bradley had the same kind of worshipping awe-struck eyes. I balled my fists tighter and pumped my arms back and forth a little to make the rock-hard biceps bulge even more. My efforts were rewarded with a little drool sliding down the kid’s chin. “Wanna kiss one, boy?” I asked roughly, knowing the answer before I even asked and chuckling when Bradley merely shook his head in a big yes. I knew I could lower my arm for my little admirer, but I also knew Bradley deserved better. I would have lassoed the moon and pulled it closer for him if that’s what he had wanted – that’s how powerful he made me feel. So, I knew this kiss needed to be really special. I let go of the flex with my left arm and reached down to grab one of the legs on the stool Bradley sat on. My arms were so long it didn’t require any bending. Lifting the stool and the guy was amazingly easy. The little man’s drool and lust-filled eyes had been enough to pump more testosterone through my body so I even felt much stronger than usual. “Let’s bring you up to your prize, Bradley, man,” I said, guiding the guy’s already puckered lips up to my giant arm. Even in the noisy bar I could hear the contented moaning of the little man. Bradley’s lips turned into a Hoover and aggressively attacked my hard biceps – as if he were a starving wolf being given some raw meat. Within seconds my flexed muscle shimmered in the light because of the sheen of saliva Bradley’s lips were leaving. His nose bent to the side because of the steel-like firmness of the sinew beneath my skin. My flexed gun was double the size of his head. I immediately made a mental note to show Bradley the size difference in a mirror one day. I knew my little friend would find that thrilling. One of the things that had confirmed my muscle daddy-ness had been my intense affinity for difference in sizes. Standing beside a grown man who was much smaller and seeing our reflection in a mirror or window was enough to thrill me for a week. Having both of us flex at the same time and seeing how tiny the guy’s muscles were compared to mine was like icing on the cake. Bradley was a normal sized guy – and had that gymnast’s build I had mentioned before – but compared to me he was a tiny boy beside a pro bodybuilder. A gray haired massive elder pro bodybuilder. I laughed as Bradley took quick breaks from savagely kissing my arm so he could look down and see how far he and the stool were from the ground – being held in the air by one arm, albeit a huge one. It was clear the guy knew I could continue holding him like this for a while. I finally figured it would be good to give his lips a break – knowing they were already pretty chapped. I placed him back on the ground and let my right arm drop out of its flex. The poor guy looked disappointed. “Don’t worry, little man, there’s enough of me for seconds, thirds, and even thousandths,” I said. “You’ll never run out of muscle. Geez, you sure are light, Bradley. I barely even notice it when I’m holding you in the air.” “Trust me,” he said, smiling, “I notice it.” I had learned a long time ago – even before the young guy at the hardware store – that a true muscle-worshipping pup loves to be manhandled. The pup is turned on when his muscle daddy treats his strength as an afterthought. An accidental bump sends some dude crashing to the floor and that offers the opportunity for the muscleman to reach down and lift the other dude – like he might pick up a dropped sock. Or squeezing too hard during a handshake and totally missing the fact that the smaller man is wincing in pain – maybe even letting out a loud yelp. Or maybe it’s easily moving a piece of furniture that would normally take three to four guys to budge. A devout pup needs moments like these – moments not overtly obvious to the muscle daddy – to help with a sense of security. An experienced big man instinctively knows his admirer is always watching. Drying off from a shower is a good time for some quick poses, there’s no need for wearing a shirt when it’s just the two of you at home, and any chance the big guy gets to lift something so he can get in a quick workout he must always take it just to please the pup. Another very important rule is a muscle daddy never showers at the gym. To come home sweaty, pungent, bulging, and horny is a must demand from any card-carrying pup. You owe it to the little man that he be given the chance to smell, taste, and feel the fruits of your Herculean efforts. And, if by chance you’ve got a pup that actually likes to go to the gym with you, you must pause every now and then to go to the little weights section where he’s working out so he can get a good grope and whiff. “Bradley, sometimes a crashing wave of desire overwhelms me and I want to grab you into a big bear hug and squeeze your insides out,” I said, tensing my body all over. “Well, I’m glad you don’t,” he responded, “Although I’d probably like it on some level.” “Part of the fun of having a new boy is testing just how much pressure he can stand,” I said, looking into his gorgeous eyes. “I have a high tolerance for pain . . . especially when given by a gray-haired hulk with hands bigger than my head,” the young man responded. His comment made me smile. I had always been super proud of my thick-fingered giant hands. At age seven I could easily palm a basketball. When I was just a teenager I got in the habit of always shaking a man’s hand when I first met him – just to get a thrill out of watching the dude freak out when my giant mitt engulfed his making him feel small and demure. Bradley held up his small hand with its palm facing me and I knew what he wanted. I placed my monstrous appendage against his. When you were just looking at the hands you would have never known the smaller one was a grown man. The enormity of mine made it seem like Bradley was a kindergartner playing patty-cake with a giant. I could actually bend my fingers at the knuckles over his. Again, the sight of such a size difference clearly pleased both of us. We simply stared at our hands as I felt the heat between our palms skyrocket up from the thrill. “Never met a jar I couldn’t open,” I said, smiling. “Or a locked door, I’m sure,” Bradley quickly added – and that made me chuckle and nod. “I’ve been an arm wrestling champ for all of my life,” I continued. “There’s nothing better than watching some guy struggle hard – sweating and grunting up a storm – getting nowhere, and I’m barely using any strength at all to beat him. I also always have to make sure I don’t squeeze too hard. Hands can be fragile things.” “Around you, sir, I think anything would become fragile,” Bradley said softly, knowing full well his comment would turn me on. “Damn, boy, you’ve got the sweetest mouth around. I hope all of you is that perfect.” I said, dropping my huge hand to my crotch to adjust my hard-on. Part 6 I was starting to get a little weak in the knees for my little man, Bradley – and that never happened. One thing you could never call me was weak. There was something about this guy, though. I still needed to wait it out and get to know him better, but every fiber of my body was getting turned on by the small fella – and I had learned a long time ago that my big body never lied. I started imagining us watching television together and him begging me to put him in a headlock. Then, I’d squeeze my biceps into his face so hard he’d have depressions across his cheeks and forehead where the veins smashed against him. I’d wake him up at two in the morning just because I felt like lifting and didn’t want to get out of bed. He’d be my sleepy little barbell that I pressed into the air until I’d be read for sleep again. I’d come home after work and make him sit in my lap as I had my beer, so I could play with him before we began our evening. He, of course, would also get to grope my bod as we sat there. He deserved to have some fun, too. The transformation into a muscle daddy happens over a long period of time – that’s why it’s linked to maturity. However, once you’ve reached the title of an elder flexing god, reading the likes and turn-ons of an admirer becomes second nature. You’re able to size up a pup in mere moments. That doesn’t necessarily mean a guy can become your one true pup instantly – no, that takes time. But muscle daddies that have reached a maximum level of testosterone oozingness and naturally drip with manliness can intuit exactly what makes a little guy tick – what makes the smaller fella get rock hard or even spew uncontrollably. A king of wrinkled muscle knows if the fragile bod in front of him needs his ass manhandled, his crotch crushed by a huge thigh, or his hand tightly squeezed – close to breaking point. Knowing how to please the pup is as automatic as whipping out your own substantial meat and pumping out a loud, enthusiastic daddy-load. Being cocky and dominating is actually muscle daddy masturbation. As you crank up the juice in your adoring fan, you crank up your own massive tool. It’s always mutually satisfying or it’s not a true muscle daddy. The more your muscles and strength excite the little one you’re holding in the air or flexing for, the more you got to give him. It’s a glorious muscle cycle – enhanced by daddy talk, grunting, terms of endearment or just purring like an enormous lion. I had become an expert of reading subconscious signs offered by little men I was flirting with. Most of the time, the dude didn’t even know he was blatantly offering me erotic maps to what would make him happy. A dude that can’t take his eyes off of your arms wants flexing – and lots of it – but he also clearly wants you to use those arms to show off, too. He needs to personally feel the power your massive biceps naturally and easily produce. He wants you to lift him every chance you get – whether it’s to the stool by the bar or a toss to the bed a few feet away. The cute thing that keeps taking every opportunity to move between your massive legs spread invitingly apart wants you to squeeze him with the monstrous things until he gets close to passing out. A guy that compliments your clothes over and over again clearly loves the way giant muscles look in skin-tight material. You want to pump every muscle you can so the material gets stretched to the ‘almost ripping’ point. And if you can afford to lose some shirts or pants by flexing out of them, you’re going to cause euphoria in the man that’ll be on par with an erupting volcano. Then there are the subtle signs - the ones that most amateur muscle daddies miss. A guy that keeps talking about how huge you are is obviously sending you messages that he likes size comparison. He might not even know he loves seeing your giant muscles next to smaller ones. When you get one of these fellas you want to always make sure you stand next to smaller men – the smaller the better – so your admirer gets a full view of just how mammoth you really are. You bend your arm next to the guy at the bar beside you so your pup’s mouth will drop open wide as he compares the anthill to your mountain. Another unspoken desire most gray-haired muscled behemoths miss is what a guy truly wants when he takes the time to introduce you to his friends or acquaintances. If your pup is taking the time to share you with others, he is actually begging you to impress the hell out of them. You’re secretly being asked to intimidate other men – and your poor date might not even realize it’s what he wants. Of course, there’s the powerful squeeze when you’re shaking hands with his friends – that’s an expected treat. Your pup wants to see his friends wince a little from the pain and, at the same time, see how monstrous your hand is compared to the delicate one you’re gripping. But some added unexpected pleasure comes if you choose to stand really close to his friends as you talk to them – the size difference being fun, but also getting to watch the inferiority complex your massiveness causes in his friends fills your pal with a raging desire he didn’t expect. He watches his friends unconsciously buttoning up their opened shirts because they know their chest doesn’t come close to yours. These same friends cross their arms and press against their biceps with the backs of their hands to make their tiny bulges bigger – in hopes they don’t look so small compared to yours. And then there’s the obligatory deepening of their voice and attempt at copping an attitude in hopes they could come close to matching your oozing manliness. Of course, they never do and this pleases your pup to no end. I had picked up on some definite subconscious desires from Bradley. He was clearly a fur man – my beard scraping against the side of his face as I whispered to him had sent jolts through his body that were powerful enough to light up an entire town for a week. The little guy loved my bushy, manly mustache and thick stubble. He understood – without even thinking about it – that I could shave my chiseled chin completely smooth one morning and by two in the afternoon I’d have enough bristly hair to rug-burn the inside of his thighs as I toyed with his pulsing balls. He didn’t need to see the dense forest sprouting out across my chest – even noticeable through my shirt – since he automatically knew it was there. Bodybuilders shaved all over, while muscle daddies – true muscle daddies – pumped out so much testosterone that they sprouted thick, hard fur that pleased a cheek, begged for caresses, or longed to get caught between teeth as the little man’s mouth went to town on your chest. Bradley was especially turned on by the salt and pepper fur across my mammoth pecs – visible because of my open shirt. My pretty little prepster was also sending me subconscious messages about his ass. When I lifted him up against my body – groping his globular cheeks in my mammoth hands – he twitched his dimpled butt in a way that made it perfectly clear that a muscled daddy pounding not only made him happy – it was a gift he liked to bestow on his elders. He had an ass that just wouldn’t quit and he knew exactly how it sent me into pleasure overload – just feeling it and imagining what I might do to it later on. It was his golden chalice – his secret cave – and his most precious offering for any man deemed worthy of its access. I had instantly known there were many hurdles and labors I would have to perform before I would even be considered for that hard, juicy reward. My giant hands groping the gorgeous ass, however, had been the first perfect score I had received in the long list of tests. I had instantly made it clear I was a master at manhandling buttocks. I used the perfect combination of painful squeezing and comforting massaging – making it strongly obvious that I was the kind of ass man that gave as much power as I received. A powerful pounding that does not make your little man squeal in delight and shoot off like a roman candle is a wasted pounding. I knew his chute longed for my massive tool in the same way his mouth desired my huge, hard nipples. It was second nature to both of us. Hidden deep in his desire for domination was something Bradley could not even fathom he wanted, however. I was so attuned to little men, I had picked up on something in our short time together that he was – at this time – unable to know existed deep in the recess of his brain and heart. Bradley needed something that was actually rare in most muscle daddy – pup relationships. It was also something that most towering, bulging, elder men would miss. The man desired total freedom . . . the kind of freedom that could only be obtained through absolute abandonment. The thing that came closest to describing it was that moment you first leapt from an airplane when skydiving. It had to be the first time, though. For, even as much as every jump was thrilling, that first one would never be repeated. Freefalling through the sky on that initial time connected immortality with mortality – fear and excitement – control and loss of control. Unbeknownst to Bradley, he hoped I might be the man who could finally empower him to give up control. He was so used to controlling everyone and everything around him he could not even begin to fathom what it would be like to wake up one morning and not immediately start a list in your head that would later be ticked off. He had absolutely no idea how freeing it could be to not have to make a decision – and, yet, that is what he desired. Bradley unconsciously wanted his first thought every morning to be about feeling muscles, pleasing someone big, and getting off in return. Every leather-like crinkling sounding flex of my mature muscles was now focused in one – and only one direction – helping Bradley become aware of what he truly wanted, desired, secretly needed in a way that could never be revealed before I had come on the scene. I knew, now, that we were the ying and the yang of muscle worship . . . of muscle relationships. All of the densely packed electrons in my body were alive with awareness of one thing – pleasing the small man before me. I needed to advance slowly, for it was still possible to ruin the potential bond that was quickly blossoming between the muscle daddy and the adoring admirer. One false move – one action that forced the issue too quickly – could send both of us home forever empty handed and our core beings fully aware of the gloriousness we had missed. My advanced years and my experience put me at a definite advantage in this awareness. I knew, instinctively, that Bradley’s soul and desired-filled libido was completely in tune with what was happening, but I also realized that all had not become apparent to his conscious brain yet. He would need more time to fully understand that he truly only wanted to wake up in the morning and have his first thought be about muscle, pleasing me, and being pleased by me. He wanted coffee, business, friends, and all other things to be an afterthought. He wanted waking up consciousness to be purely and only submerged in hardened bulging arms that surrounded him, a powerful heartbeat that sent tremors through his own body, and a desire to be pleasured that was so intense that his entire being opened to being invaded by the giant force that held him. It was truly when two bodies became one and all lines between pleasing and being pleased were so blurred that it felt like you were pounding yourself. I, of course, had already realized – to the full extent – how I had fallen into the abyss of complete and utter desire for this man. I was lost in Bradley-dom. I was his pawn, his dominator, his keeper, and his prisoner all at the same time. I now knew my strength, my hugeness, my maturity, and my life, itself, existed to merely give Bradley – and in turn, myself – what he unknowingly desired. Fulfillment for me would only come if he were absolutely and thoroughly happy. The pup in front of me did not understand any of this – and he had no idea that I was the only one – on the planet – that could give his inner being what it so desperately desired. This awareness would come later. The businessman within my little guy was still ticking off lists to see if I met his requirements. He was Lois Lane, completely blinded to the fact that his Superman was blatantly disguised in front of him. I had never felt so powerful in my entire life, but – at the same time – I had never felt the potential for total powerlessness. If I lost this pup . . . if I did one wrong move and sent him away . . . I knew I would be devastated beyond belief. The fear of losing him was now my kryptonite. This was my moment to prove my true muscle daddy-ness. It was enough to make me want to toss the little man through the wall – that’s how scared I was, but I also realized that all of my years of training, all of my moments with other pups – showing off my body and my strength – had led to this moment. Suddenly, I felt more focused, wiser, and more dedicated to one goal than ever in my entire life. I was the muscled god coming down from Olympus to offer some mortal all the pleasures my divinity could offer. At the same time – all of my desires and needs would be met. “Bradley, little man, I know you keep your calendar in your phone – that’s just the kind of powerful man you are – so I want you to take it out right now and type in my name as your date for tomorrow night. And then I want you to hit the button that says ‘repeat forever’ so it goes on every day from now to eternity,” I said with enough seriousness that the guy actually took out his phone. “Um, I have some other evenings already planned, sir, “ he replied as he unlocked his phone, “You know, with other men.” I moved in closer to him and placed my massive hands on his shoulders. I was amazed to see that there wasn’t much room left of that part of his body with my big paws sitting there. I was pretty sure he noticed the same thing, without even turning his head to look. I squeezed hard – teasingly, making sure to offer a slight amount of pain. At the same time I tensed my chest, making sure it inflated tremendously before his face. He stared at it for a few seconds – his eyes growing wide – and then he looked up at me. “See anything – or feel anything – that makes you want to cancel those dates, son?” I asked. “Yes sir,” he instantly replied, his shoulders trying unsuccessfully to escape from my powerful grip. “That’s a good boy,” I replied, “You wouldn’t want me to start paying visits to potential rivals and intimidating them, would you.” “Maybe sir,” he said, honestly, and this made me very happy. The way he kept glancing at my swollen chest made it very clear that it was time for me to bless him with another present. I had definitely passed some other unspoken test. I pulled his body forward and let his face smack loudly against my hard chest. The moan that escaped his body, at first, made me worry that he had cum instantly, but then I realized it was merely his reaction to finally getting to feel some of my generous fur, taking a strong whiff of my manly scent, and finally feeling the hardness of my pecs with his face. For a split second I envisioned this would be how we would one day wake up nestled together, but I immediately forced that thought out of my brain. That was one of the surest ways to move too quickly and ruin everything. Let the present moment be enough – and it was – to please you. If you desired other things too quickly, you wouldn’t allow your pup to catch up with your awareness, your desire, or all of your abilities. Maintain your muscle daddy-ness at all moments. You can lead a pup to your pecs, but you cannot make him automatically suck with passion – that had to come from within him. I knew to let him go at his own pace. To say the little dude inhaled deeply would be an understatement. He nestled his nose and face in between my massive pecs and seemed to go into some kind of trance. I squeezed my chest even tighter around his cheeks and he mumbled incoherent words into my muscles. I knew we were drawing a lot attention from other guys in the bar, but I didn’t care. I was giving my little man what he needed and I would have flattened anyone or anything that got in the way of doing that. “Pretty PEC-tacular, huh, Bradley,” I teased. “Yes sir,” he mumbled back, but I could understand what he was saying – mainly from the adoring tone. I could feel my mounds of muscle squeezing the hell out of his face. I’m sure it was painful, but he didn’t care. It was just another moment of me showing him my power. I probably had him trapped there – but you really can’t trap a willing prisoner. I could feel his tongue darting out to get a taste of whatever it was that my body radiated – testosterone, sweat, manliness, dominance, or a mixture of it all. The little man had made me perspire a lot throughout the evening, so I’m sure there was a strong aroma of my hugeness and power. I got the feeling Bradley could have stayed there for hours, but I wanted to converse with the dude a little more. I released my flex, releasing his face, and moved back a little. His body leaned forward as his tongue tried to follow my massive chest. I caught him before he fell face forward off of the stool and set him upright – aware he was still entranced by the bulges that had surrounded him. “So, do we have a date tomorrow night?” I asked. “No sir,” he replied and smiled at the immediate disappointment in my face. “We have a date tonight. It’s past twelve.” I flexed my arm hard and turned my wrist slowly to look at my watch. It was a move made purely to grab his attention and remind him I was still in charge, even though he had put me in my place concerning the day of our date. My biceps was like superglue to his eyes and his gaze honed in immediately on the bulging mass of muscle. I bounced the flex a few times, just to make the peak twitch. Appropriately, his eyes got wider. “So it is. I stand corrected,” I answered. “And this muscle daddy doesn’t like being corrected.” Only the tone of my voice could tear Bradley’s stare away from my biceps. He looked up at me and instantly we both got a surge of power to our balls. When our eyes met there was an unspoken awareness that shot through both of us. I had teasingly been stern when I spoke to him. The sound of my voice had immediately done something to him. He became like a puppy that had been caught in the middle of the destroyed box of tissues – unable to escape blame and fully aware of how cute he looked even in his terrible mistake. I distinctly saw that part of Bradley’s thick wall of control had been chipped away. Someone more powerful – in every way – had spoken and he was upset he had displeased that person. I saw incredible love and a deep desire for forgiveness in the face below me. I was almost overwhelmed by the look – and nearly exploded with a harsh ejaculation. It took a lot of my strength to prevent me from cumming. I had seen a glimpse of what was to come – a slither of the true muscle daddy pup that Bradley could become. For a split second he had truly worried I was displeased. He was very nervous he had done something that might interrupt this trajectory we were on to a true muscle communion. Immediately, he recovered and saw that I had been kidding – but that glimpse of raw fear that his muscle daddy was not happy had been enough for me to know that we were destined for great things. I also realized we had inched our way past another milestone. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said – mustering enough sincerity to make my cock twitch with excitement. Some would-be muscle daddies found pleasure in tying their pups up – binding their hands and their feet or even wrapping rope around their entire bodies. I found this a sure sign that someone was not a true muscle daddy. An elder man didn’t need rope, chains, or locks to be his power. A true muscle daddy knew his body was the only power he’d ever need. I could have subdued Bradley easily and made it impossible for him to move a muscle – all with just my own huge, powerful body. Keeping a man in place wasn’t about cages with metal bars – it was about cages created completely from the knowledge that his muscle daddy would protect him no matter what. A guy felt subdued because he knew his huge partner could easily dominate him – something he wanted as much as the big man did. That split second in Bradley’s consciousness – his worry about me not being pleased – did more for opening his soul to me than anything I could have ever said. A muscle daddy that is genuine actually never raised his voice or reprimanded too much – simply because his dominating spirit, the power he exuded was enough to make his pup be submissive forever. It’s actually been proven that a muscle daddy can have a submissive pup who is actually bigger and stronger than him – the pup giant offering himself to the other man simply because the elder man is seasoned, more mature, and can lead without any need of material things. I easily commanded respect and attention by my massive presence – not merely by anything I said or did. “That’s fine, pup. I knew you meant it in a good way,” I replied quickly. “You’re just that excited about our upcoming date.” And, like that, the guy lit up like a Christmas tree. My statement of forgiveness was like he was given a new lease on life. I had darkened his life by a small reprimand – making him think I was displeased, but I had released a tsunami of endorphins by blessing him with understanding. His face broke out in a giant smile of gratitude and he almost seemed to swell in pride from the fact that I acknowledged his excitement. We had reached a new plateau in our relationship. He was beginning to show signs of the ultimate pup I knew he’d be. I had once made a guy gush a big load simply by barking out the order for him to ‘cum.’ I had a feeling that Bradley was going to be way more easily influenced than that. I actually think he would one day be able to squirt simply if I invited him to. His serving spirit was going to be that intertwined with my dominating one. Of course, he was going to probably be able to do the same thing to me. He’d probably be able to ask his huge super-strong daddy to spurt for him on the spot. That’s how much I’d probably want to please him. I had a feeling my body would take over my brain and instantly do whatever he asked of me. Of course, all of this was down the line a little while, but we had both already caught glimpse of how it would be. “And what does my main man want to do for our first official date,” I asked, tensing my arm by my side and moving in closer so he could immediately try to grope the hard muscle. “Feel your muscles,” he quickly responded. “Isn’t that what you’re doing right now?” I asked. “Yes sir, but I’ll never get enough,” he shot back, not taking his eyes or his hands off of my huge biceps. “Well, how about if I promise a lot of groping later in the evening and we started with dinner at my favorite little French restaurant,” I suggested, and then added, “It only has about twelve tables, so I kind of fill up the place.” “That sounds great, but I promise you I’ll pout if I don’t get to grope,” he said – still working away at my arm. “What kind of muscle daddy would I be if I didn’t let you play with all this?” I asked. His hands stopped their motion and he turned his gaze toward me. I could tell the look on his face that he wanted to say something very important. “You have no idea, sir, the kind of electricity that shoots through my body when you call yourself my muscle daddy,” he said. “I think I do, Bradley,” I replied. “The same thing happens to my body.” “I’ve got a list in my head, sir . . .” Bradley started. “I’m very aware of that, son” I interrupted and the comment caught him off guard at first, but then he smiled as if to say ‘of course you do.’ “Well, it’s like you’re ticking off everything on that list, sir. As the night progresses I seem to be getting closer to say everything’s taken care of,” he answered. “Everything is taken care of, my boy,” I said and the seriousness in my voice made him suck in air audibly. His hands had automatically restarted trying to grope my huge gun, even though one of his palms didn’t come close to covering my giant tensed peak. He just pressed in with his fingers over and over, again, as if he was astounded that all of his strength couldn’t press in my muscle at all. My hardness was a mystery to him. He hadn’t been in the gym all of those countless days I lifted more weight that he could imagine – pumping blood into the tissue that would multiply and become like marble. He didn’t know about the days when my muscles ached as much as my cock was aching at that present moment – because of the poundage I moved around at the gym. And he didn’t know those days when I had to crawl up stairs because my legs hurt from squatting what seemed like a bar loaded with enough weight to equal a city bus. The pup didn’t need to know any of that. He simply got to admire, worship, and love the product of all my hard work. He was awarded a groping session that kept him rock hard merely because he had not idea an older man could be so buff, so huge, and so fucking cocky. His tiny hands pressing against my giant gun looked so puny and weak. It made me want to protect him even more. “Let me be your rock, Bradley. Your foundation. Let me be so strong for you that everything else in your life seems fragile and breakable,” I said, and I instantly realized he was silently begging me to continue. “I’m a hurricane of power just waiting to be released. You can just say the word and I’ll be everything you’ve ever dreamed a man could be . . . and then some. Trust the message your hands are sending to your brain right now – that the power in my guns is more than you have ever imagined. You can’t believe a man my age can be so huge . . . you can’t believe a man of any age can be this huge. But your hands don’t lie. You can sense my power without me doing a thing. You feel the same way I do right now – that there’s nothing in the world more powerful than the bond we are feeling.” “Yes,” he said, softly, and then added, “I feel it, too.” I leaned down and we let our lips meet – barely – so they just brushed against each other, as if teasing. His tongue slid out and pressed between my lips to meet my own. We then pressed our mouths into each other harder – with a passion that seemed to be equal to the heat at the earth’s core. I let out a deep rumble-like moan that must have made the little man’s body shake like a train was screeching by. His oral assault temporarily stopped, as if my moan had frightened him – the way a lion’s roar might cause smaller animals to flee. He also might have been listening for some kind of echo in the wide expanse of my upper body. Either way, I noticed the sudden thrill that must have shot up from his toes to his head. I wrapped my huge paw around his head and pulled him into me even harder, making our lips smash together like squashed cement between bricks. It quickly became clear that even my tongue was bigger and more powerful than his. And, as if a sign of things to come, he simply submitted to it’s power and let me take control of our kiss. I sucked so hard it felt like I might make his toes come out his mouth. I plowed his throat with my tongue in what was clearly a sign of what another part of my body would do at a late date. I anticipated when he needed air, when he wanted more force, and when he wanted gentleness. I used my muscle daddy sixth sense to the nth degree – making sure he got a good idea of what I was capable of. I slid my other hand under his ass and lifted him off the stool, standing erect and easily bringing his body with me. At the same time, I never let our mouths separate. I could tell the little man was impressed because his hands, which had moved from my biceps to my huge chest as I lifted him, shook uncontrollably from being overwhelmed. By this point, he was moaning almost louder than me. When I finally moved my mouth from his, he kept his eyes closed and continued to breathe deeply – as if he was recovering from a long run. Finally, he spoke – without opening his eyes. “I really need to go home, sir” he said, “Tomorrow is a work day. To say this has been the best night of my life is an understatement.” “Maybe it’s just the beginning of the best part of your life,” I replied – still, his eyes remained closed. “I hope so,” he whispered. I lowered his body to the ground but kept my hands in place because I could tell his body was a little shaky. I was used to having that effect on guys. I was feeling a little wobbly myself – a totally new experience. I finally sensed I could release him completely since he opened his eyes. I stepped back, enabling him to get a good look at my entire huge frame. I watched as he looked me up and down, clearly wanting to memorize every inch of me – surely for a few rounds of masturbatory pleasure into the wee hours of the morning and beyond. The thought of him having to step into his private bathroom at work later that day to relieve his hard cock gave me much joy. I had a feeling I’d even surpass my own personal record of five orgasms in a span of six hours – that’s how much little Bradley turned me on. We stared at each other for a few seconds – neither of us wanting the magic to end. I finally spoke, knowing full well that the magic would begin again as soon as we were within ten feet of each other. “Shall we exchange information?” I asked. “I’m eight inches,” he replied, smiling and clearly thinking he had gotten me. “I’m two more than that flaccid,” I quickly replied and was immediately rewarded when his eyes grew wider and he licked his lips. “Get me really hard, and I’ll really surprise you.” His hands shook as he took out his phone and tried to type in the information I gave him. I finally had to take his phone and finish it for him. He had recovered by then and ended up showing me how he could send his information via some app – I had never fully learned how to use a smart phone. I figured my huge muscles made up for it. Right before we parted I bent down, wrapped my arms around him, and bear hugged him hard as I stood up and took him off the ground. I again brought my face next to his and whispered in his ear, “I’ll be thinking of you non-stop until tonight.” I put him back on the ground and we walked out together. Like a good muscle daddy I walked him to his vintage Jaguar – of course – and watched him drive away. I immediately felt a profound loneliness and knew I needed a wank session thinking about Bradley to make me feel better. I actually didn’t wait until I got home. Thank goodness I had some tissues in my truck. Part 7 I waddled by his secretary’s desk as she stood and started to tell me I could not go in. I just did a most muscular flex and grunted loudly. She immediately sat down and shut up – her face white as a ghost. I made her huge desk look small and she definitely noticed. I opened the door to a humongous office and there was Bradley sitting behind an even bigger desk - the biggest I’ve ever seen. Suddenly, I had desk envy. Windows on three sides surrounded him and the view of the city was spectacular. He looked up and immediately smiled. He didn’t move, though. He just remained seated behind his desk and that simple action turned me on so much. He leaned over and pressed a button on his phone as I shut the door behind me. “Sarah, I don’t wish to be disturbed. The big man is a friend,” he said and the way he didn’t wait for a response told me he knew I had scared the crap out of his secretary. I walked slowly across the floor of the big room to the area where he sat. I wanted him to get a good view of the tight black muscle hugging t-shirt and even tighter jeans I was wearing. I could see him adjusting himself beneath the desk as I moved toward him. His eyes went over every part of my torso like a ravenous wolf looking at a big chunk of meat. There was something about the way he was acting that immediately told me he had expected me to come for a visit. I thought I would be a huge surprise, but the little dude might actually be my equal in cunning. I tensed my upper body to make him breathe heavier and the anticipated reaction did not disappoint. I had a feeling my biceps were almost an inch thicker because of all the beating off I had done the night before thinking about the little stud. He had cute circles under his eyes that led me to believe thoughts of me had kept him up all night, as well. I was caught off guar by how happy that thought made me. “Take a chair,” he said, pointing to one of the large wing back chairs in front of his desk. I bent down, grabbed the humongous thing by the leg, easily lifted it into the air, and said, “Where would you like me to take it?” His face lit up like a Christmas tree. I had a feeling he was going to ask me sometime to do that with him sitting in it – I could see him making a mental note. Little Bradley, always making lists. I put the chair down and walked around to sit in it. I, of course, turned so my ass and huge back was on display for him for a few minutes – just to wreck him completely. He actually sucked in air. He quickly regained control, though – something that continued to impress me. The little guy obviously had some hidden inner strength. “How did you get by security in the lobby?” he asked and I noticed both of his hands were still underneath the desk, moving back and forth. He was blatantly and proudly stroking a hard on my presence had produced. Or maybe he had remained hard since we parted earlier. “I simply held them in the air and fucked them both senseless in the broom closet,” I teasingly said. This made the man moan a little and then break into a knowing smile. “Naw, just kidding. It was easy. I’m bigger. They really didn’t have a choice. They asked me to flex, which I gladly did. We arm-wrestled a few times – both of them against me at the same time. They foolishly thought I might be too tired to win the third time. They, however, were so worn out by that point all I had to do was tell them you and I had a serious thing going on and they went all gooey inside, instantly allowing me access. It pays off to be big sometimes” “I’m pretty sure it pays off being big all the time, sir,” Bradley said, smiling a knowing grin. “It certainly did last night,” I replied and he nodded ‘yes.’ “And why, Mr. Butch, sir, have you decided to grace me with your presence today,” Bradley said – encouraging me on even more. “I thought I’d get a glimpse of the wild beast in his natural habitat,” I replied. “It seems to me you had some staff members and board members that needed some intimidation from a huge muscle daddy.” “And what do you think, sir?” he asked. “Pretty nice digs. I’ve never had an office in a high rise. I tend to work outdoors mostly,” I replied. “Hence the perfect golden tan,” he said, making sure I felt complimented. “I have an awesome tan line,” I said, smiling. “I’ll have to show you sometime.” “That would be wonderful, sir,” he answered. I pushed my chair back a little and put my feet up on his desk. It was a bold move. I was ready to take my presumed dominance – even in his office - to a higher level. I crossed my giant legs and made it so we looked at each other between my huge work boots. I could see Bradley staring at the size of my shoes. I saw him swallow hard, but I also saw a little gleam in his eye and knew right away that he was rising to the challenge in more ways than one. He finally got up from his chair slowly, making sure I got a great view of the hard cock unashamedly pressing against his suit pants. Of course, it was a given that his clothes were tailor made. He looked impeccable. He walked around his giant desk, not even trying to hide the rocket at his crotch. When he got near my massive thighs he looked at my face and without him saying a word I knew exactly what he wanted. I impressed the shit out of him when I raised the top leg almost straight up, showing how flexible I was. He stepped in between my legs and turned toward me. I lowered the big thing back to the desk and immediately squeezed – pulling him closer by flexing my muscled calves. Our hard-ons were pressing against each other and the small man started running his hands up and down by big quads, purposefully avoiding my hard shaft. We both looked at how tiny his fingers and palms looked compared to my mega thighs. “I could smash your little body until you passed out, Bradley,” I said. “I know you could, sir,” he replied and I could feel his hands tremble a little with excitement. “Would you like me to do that?” I asked – and my tone was suddenly serious. His face showed that he was right there with me as far as intensity goes and he said, “No, sir, I’d rather not have to change my clothes and I know I’d certainly explode right before I blacked out.” “You know, of course, that you really don’t have a choice,” I continued – just to emphasize my point. “Those big things wrapped around your body control the situation completely.” “Yes sir, I do, but I have a feeling that if I ask politely you’ll save this particular thrill for another time,” he responded as he continued to stroke my thighs. It took almost all of my strength not to immediately squeeze the breath out of the little guy. He was right, for sure. I wouldn’t do anything without his approval. That approval didn’t need to be verbal, though. Sometimes, a muscle daddy just knows what his pup needs by looking at him. Bradley wasn’t ready to feel the full force of my giant trunks. He was not a delicate man, but we both knew he wouldn’t last long if I chose to intensify the pressure of my legs. I lessened the present light compression just to help myself move away from uncontrollably squashing him – just because I wanted to so much. I was proud of myself for waiting. This little guy was proving to be way more than I had ever dreamed possible in a worshipper and I wanted to make sure he knew how much I appreciated him. “Your self control amazes me, sir,” he said with much admiration. “We’ll wait, tiny fella, we’ll wait. You’re certainly worth it,” I said, smiling. “What’s it feel like to be the top man of this place?” “Probably the same as when you have a small guy between your legs and you know you could squeeze the life out of him,” Bradley replied. My legs automatically tightened at his response. I couldn’t help myself. He had pushed all of the right buttons to egg this alpha on. He was toying with me – trying to see if I could hold out. Then I realized it was another test. That made it easy for me to not squeeze. I lessened the pressure and just smiled. Bradley smiled, too. He was beyond impressed by my ability to not give into my base desires. He knew a sign of a true muscle daddy was to always be in control – to be the one that makes all the decisions, even when it comes to getting off. He was getting closer and closer to offering himself completely to me. “It would be hot to watch you turn red and see your eyes bug out, but we’ll have to wait until another time,” I said, making it clear that I was still in control. “You’re getting closer to the prize,” he said with much sincerity. “Am I? And what if I just took the prize whenever I wanted to?” I asked. “You would never do that. We both know that the moment will reveal itself to us at the same time. It will be like two bolts of lightning coming together. There’s a few more things we need to find out about each other,” he said, calmly – still stroking my legs. “You mean like whether or not I squeeze the toothpaste from the bottom or the middle of the tube?” I questioned. “Yes sir, something like that,” he answered, chuckling at my joke. “Or maybe more like whether my muscle daddy can truly meet all of my needs.” “Little man, Bradley,” I said leaning forward a little, “I need a jolt of that lightning you spoke of right now. That’ll show you what I’m capable of.” He knew what that meant. The guy grabbed the sides of my face and drew our mouths together. My entire body tensed hard when our lips met and his tongue darted in. I’m pretty sure we stayed locked together that way for a good ten minutes – or even longer. My rough stubble and mustache scraped his pretty face raw. By the time we separated our heads we were both so hard that it was clear we shouldn’t even be touching each other. I removed my legs and set his small body free. He leaned back against the desk and I spread my legs wide enough so my knees were about a foot from his body – even that was too close. “Damn, boy, I’d still don’t know where you learned to suck face like that?” I said, desperately trying to calm my body down. “It just depends on who I’m kissing, sir. If the connection is there the sucking face part just comes naturally,” he replied and I knew he was right. “So you feel it, too, don’t you, Bradley?” I asked and I could see by the look on his face he was ecstatic to finally talk openly about what was going on. “Butch, sir, I haven’t gotten anything done at work today. I’ve been too busy thinking about you,” he replied honestly. “Why the hell do you think I came over – I’ve been having the same problem,” I responded. We just stared at each other. This was one of the last hurdles to clear before we dove head first into this magic that was happening between us. I ached for the man. I had been searching for someone of his caliber for over thirty years. He had no idea how I could rock his world, but I was determined to show him. I could see he was thinking the same thing about me. He was dying to submit himself totally to my alpha-ness. He was desperate to give up control – since he never ever got to. I could feel Bradley internally begging for something even though he was a few feet away. I just knew it like I knew my own face. I brought my arms up slowly, balled up my fists, and then started flexing my biceps to their full height. The small guy let out a whimper that made me tense even harder. Somehow, I made my big guns bulge bigger, harder and stronger than I ever had before. I saw a tiny dark spot appear at Bradley’s crotch and I knew he just couldn’t help himself – a little spooge had to bubble out. I didn’t hold the flex long. I instinctively knew I should not. It would have been too much for the little guy. I brought my arms down and put my hands in my lap. I gave Bradley a few minutes to recover. “What do you bench,” he asked quickly and I instantly knew he was in interview mode. “More weight than you can imagine,” I replied, and his moan told me I had answered correctly. “How big are your guns?” he continued. “Much thicker than your tiny waist,” I replied and he moaned even louder. “What’s your favorite thing to do with a little man?” he asked, even more excited than before. “Walking around the room while I hold him upside down and we sixty-nine,” I answered, now anticipating the moan. I knew it was my turn so I asked, “How much are you worth?” “More than the GNP of some small countries,” he replied and it was my turn to let out a little gleeful sound, although mine was much deeper. “What’s your favorite muscle on a big man?” I asked. “The one that’s the largest!” he said laughing and then he added, “I’m a gun man, sir, but I love them all.” “And what’s your favorite way to worship a muscle daddy?” I joyously asked, knowing his answer would thrill me – no matter what it was. “Facing him while I sit on his lap straddling his quads with his big pole inside me. I love groping all of his upper body as he slowly invades me,” Bradley said confidently, knowing full well that I’d get a small wet spot on my jeans, as well – which is exactly what happened. Part 8 It was clear we needed to shut up for a while. We simply stared at each other and the electricity between us was palpable. The little pup was gorgeous – all suited up with expensive cufflinks, shoes that probably cost more than my truck, and a blue pin-striped suit that was so impeccably made I didn’t think I’d have him take it off even if we were to have sex right there in his office. He was staring at me with the same kind of lustful eyes as me. “I gotta have you, man,” I said – staring into his eyes. “Do I have a choice?” he responded. “Always . . . you know that. But give me the sign that you’re mine and I’ll make sure you never have to worry about a single thing for the rest of your life,” I said with a tone that was both serious and inviting. “I was just teasing, sir. I know I have a choice. We both know there are a few more things we need to sort out before this thing between us is signed on the dotted line. You know, I went to one of your construction sites today – to chat with one of your crews so I could get an idea of what kind of guy you are outside of a big-man bar,” he confessed – and the look on my face made it clear that I was both surprised and pleased. “Yeah? What did you find out?” I asked. “All of them said you were the most fair boss they’d ever have and they loved working for you. A few even said they’d been with you for over thirty years. One guy was hilarious – he just kept talking about how ‘fucking’ strong you were and I could tell he was getting excited,” he said, smiling at the last part. “That would be Damien. You must have gone to the site a few blocks from here. Yeah, he’s a muscle whore. He makes me show off every time I come to the yard. He’s such a strength junkie,” I replied. “I could tell.” Bradley responded. “You find out anything else?” I asked. “Yeah, you’re respected. That’s what I had gone to find out. Your crew respects the hell out of you,” he said – and I heard a definite tone of approval. Bradley had surprised me – something that didn’t happen very often. He had taken the initiative to find out more about me. He had said he wanted to know me outside of the habitat of a dark bar where big men cruise little guys. He was making sure I wasn’t one of those muscle daddies that said all the right things, but when it came to a relationship I turned into some kind of tyrant that belittled or, even worse, abused my pup. It wouldn’t have been enough for me to tell him I was a straight up kind of guy – he needed to find out for himself. That’s probably what made Bradley such a successful businessman. “Funny, I asked the two beefy security guards what they thought of you,” I told him. “Of course you did. And what did you find out?” he asked. “That you stop by every day to chat with them, which they appreciate very much, by the way,” I replied. “You also sometimes bring them doughnuts. That’s calories, little man.” “They’re both fit as hell, sir. I don’t think I’m ruining their figure,” he replied. “So . . . you’ve noticed their muscles, have you,” I said, standing up and moving towards him and wedging my big body between his legs. “How could I not . . . sir?” he replied – and I felt his cock hardening against my crotch. “Hmmmmm . . . and how do they compare to me?’ I teasingly asked. “They’re like fleas next to you, sir.” Bradley cooed. “Oh yeah, I like the sound of that.” I said, bringing my lips down to his neck. “You could squash both of them with one swat,” he said to egg me on even more. “I bet you’d like to see that, wouldn’t you, Mr. Bradley?” I responded. As I spoke my breath made goose bumps pop up all over his neck – and probably the rest of his body. As soon as my tongue hit skin he sucked in air loudly and immediately stopped speaking. His hands instantly traveled up my thick forearms and quickly rested on my bulging biceps. I kissed his neck silently and he groped my big arms – trying desperately to dent in the hardness. “I’m lost in you,” I whispered. “That’s funny, with you it seems I’m found,” he answered softly. “I’d do anything for you,” I said – and it was the most honest thing to ever cross my lips. “And I’d never ask for anything you didn’t want first, sir,” he replied – just like an obedient pup. It’s a powerful thing to know that you could easily make a man submit to you and yet you still wait for his permission to dominate him. I was so much bigger and stronger than Bradley it would have taken almost no strength at all to force him to do anything I wanted him to. There was a part of me that wanted to grab the little man and manipulate his body and his will for my own pleasure. I called this part of myself “The Beast.” Being a true muscle daddy meant that I had learned how to control The Beast. Throughout the ages many men – Neanderthals, Vikings, gladiators, rednecks – had let The Beast take over their lives. These men were never satisfied and it was mainly because they never found true companionship. It is only when you can tame The Beast and wait for permission to dominate that the connection with someone else becomes so intimate that complete satisfaction happens. A true muscle daddy knows this. It’s very difficult to reach this point, though, to finally be strong enough and smart enough to not give into the needs of The Beast. There are certainly times when The Beast can be released – lifting at the gym, when three or four men pick a fight with you, and during intense sex – but learning to control that part of you is what separates us from the animals. I wanted to grab Bradley’s shoulders, lift him off the desk, and then press down with so much power that his legs would buckle and he’d end up on his knees, the perfect position for me to stuff his mouth with my hard throbbing meat. I’d then face-fuck him so hard that he’d pass out from our mutual explosions. I, however, knew how to control this desire – to not give into actions that would give me immediate pleasure, yes, but would not create an enduring relationship with this man that had now entranced me so. I wanted Bradley more than I wanted immediate gratification. A muscle daddy learns to control his body and his desires. He knows this will ultimately bring about a deeper and more fulfilling satisfaction. I had a feeling this little man in front of me was that ultimate prize for me. He made it easy for me to control The Beast. I could sense that Bradley understood this. “I almost want you to just take me, now,” he knowingly whispered. “As you say, it’s not time,” I replied. “It seems the strength of your will matches that of your body, sir,” he said. “The perfect pup is worth the wait,” I answered, knowing full well the word would make his cock twitch. “I’m strong enough to wait for something as good as you.” When exactly does lust turn into love. When does a muscle daddy move from just wanting to plow the ever-living daylights out of a little fella to the point of wanting him to become his pup? A pup is so much more than a toy. A toy is just there for pleasure. A toy serves a purpose, for sure. It helps the muscle daddy to get his rocks off and usually it means multiple times in one night. There is, however, no long-term commitment with a toy. You simply play with it until it becomes boring or worn out. Most boy-toys don’t even realize they’ll never reach pup status. They actually think you can work up to being a pup, like you might advance in an office. It doesn’t work that way, though. You have to come into a relationship already at pup status. There were many times I took little guys home even though I knew there was no chance in hell they were ready to be my pup – I was just basically using them to bust out a giant wad. Most of the time they knew that, too. But always, during the night of sex and worshipping, the boy-toy falls for the muscle daddy. It’s just the way of the world. I’d always end up breaking hearts, but there was no way I could become entangled with someone not capable of being a true pup. Most people think the muscle daddy turns a guy into a pup – as if he waves some magic wand. It’s not that way. The first thing a pup has to have is potential. A muscle daddy can sense right away whether or not a guy can be molded. There are lots of things that can prevent a guy from being enhanced by a muscle daddy – stubbornness, stupidity, apathy, and so much more. A true pup, however, opens himself to all possibilities – in the bedroom, in learning from his big man’s wisdom, in exploring new ways to serve and many other joyous avenues. Bradley oozed potential. His small frame would definitely take to building muscle like a fish takes to water, but it was his emotional potential that got me juiced the most. The man was desperate to be controlled. He lusted for domination much more than he desired my big body – and he desired my muscles big time. “When will it be time, sir?” Bradley asked, softly. “The moment you realize your heart will break if I left your side,” I replied. “That time is close,” he responded. “For both of us,” I added. “What makes you the one, Butch?” he pushed further. “I anticipate your needs. I desire to make you happy more than I want to please myself,” I responded, truthfully. “You are changing, too. You are taking the required time to learn how to give up control. You are finding out what it takes to trust someone completely. You trust no one, Bradley. It’s the burden of being a powerful and rich man. I have to earn that trust. I have to prove that I would use every ounce of my strength to make sure you are safe. Your body is also getting ready – ready to submit itself to me in every way. I will make you have orgasms you never thought were possible. I will, however, also expand your mind and your inner strength. In the gym I will push your body way beyond what you thought were your limits. I will force you to stretch your muscle worship fantasies to new heights by fulfilling them one by one. You won’t be my slave, Bradley, you’ll always have free will – but you’ll be my devotee. You’ll want to please me as much as I please you. You’ll want to make this muscle daddy proud as often as you can. Making me happy can be a full-time job, boy.” “I think I’m up for the challenge,” he answered. “I know you are,” I shot back. I tensed my entire body – making my big biceps bulge more and my chest puff out even further. None of this was missed by the pup. He was watching every part of me at one time. His gaze always seemed to come back to his favorite part – my arms – but he didn’t want to seem too partial. I took some time to look at him. I had no idea why a crisp white shirt, a fancy tie, and some butt-hugging slacks could make me so horny, but at that moment my hairy mega balls were scrunched up in edging delight. He looked immaculate. The clothes were clearly tailored, for they fit him like a glove. He was like a big old chocolate bunny you got at Easter – I could have gobbled him right up. I loved slacks because they weren’t made to hide hard-ons. His pulsing cock was outlined against the light gray material in a way that almost left nothing about the gorgeous thing to the imagination. I could see the perfect mushroom head, the shaft’s surprising thickness, and the substantial balls threatening to tear his expensive clothing. “That’s quite a tribute to this big old man,” I said, my head tipping in the direction of his crotch. “A muscle god deserves a worthy offering,” he replied softly – knowing his words would thrill me. “Could you call up those two security guards? I need to let off some steam and beating them both at wrestling would do the trick.” I asked. “That’s something I’d like to watch,” he answered, without moving. “You’ll get the chance as soon as you’re under what I like to call my ‘muscle daddy’ protection,” I shot back. I sometimes beat off to pictures of guys in catalogs for stores that sold preppy clothes, suits, and even tuxedos. A well-dressed little man was like a lightning rod to my own huge tool. I didn’t like wearing those clothes, myself, although a button down shirt pulled so tightly across my chest that you could see the buttons were about to pop off was pretty hot. No, there was just something about a cute face, light-for-lifting body, and a firm bubbled ass decorated with form fitting, lip-smacking neat, expensive clothes that could unleash the Beast in me more than almost anything else. I needed to live out some of my muscle daddy fantasies with Bradley – mainly to distract my mind so I wouldn’t attack him right there in his immaculate office. “You have a different suit for every day of the year, don’t you,” I asked, smoothly. “And then some,” he replied, knowing it would send me through the roof. “I also have them personally pressed at my house . . . daily.” When I talked about my huge muscles or what they could do, I turned on Bradley so much that he couldn’t hide his reaction or his erection. When he talked about his clothes, his preppiness, his smallness, or his business power it did the same thing to me. The crotch of my jeans was so tight because of my hard-on you would have thought I had an anaconda in my pants – especially because it was throbbing so noticeably. Bradley wasn’t through with me, yet. “I also wear silk pajamas,” he softly said. “Fuuuuuuccckkk,” I growled and suddenly I was worried I might lose control of my anaconda. “And I have a warm, comfortable robe for every night of the week,” he tauntingly added. I let out a very loud growl and I was standing up in less than a second. I grabbed him by the waist with my huge hands and lifted him high in the air above my head before he could even blink. I immediately started walking around the office to calm myself down. I needed to show him my power to even out our playing cards – to show him that I could toy with him as easily as he could with me. I looked up into his shocked, but thrilled face – staring down at me. I had moved as quickly as a jaguar – something he didn’t expect from someone so big. I had also raised his body into the air with such little effort he had instantly been reminded of my true strength – my ability of true domination. This is the reaction I had wanted. I needed him to know I could always take back the reins of control no matter how turned on he made me. Then, like a lightning flash I realized this entire exchange had been another test. His face now had the kind of smile that confirmed this revelation. He had wanted to make sure I couldn’t be forced to lose control. He needed to know that his big muscle daddy would always be in charge – even of his own big body. This knowledge made me tense my arms, tighten my grip at his sides, and start lifting his body up and down in the air as I continued to walk around his big office. “You want to slam me against the wall, don’t you, big man?” he asked, knowing the answer already. “Yes, but I would never hurt you. I want to do it only to show you my power,” I replied. “You need to know I’m always in control of my huge body . . . my will . . . my emotions.” “Yes,” he said, knowing we understood each other in a way absolutely no one else would understand. “Maybe I’ll just rip that crisp shirt off of your body and turn it into shreds,” I answered – still holding him in the air. “No you won’t. It turns you on to much,” he replied. “You know me so well,” I said. “We know each other so well,” he softly answered. I stopped walking and we just stared into each other’s arm. We were now teetering on that deep abyss called love. We both knew that soon and very soon we would join hands and jump into that darkness with our eyes and hearts wide open – we would become muscle daddy and pup in a bond that no one or nothing could ever separate. My own heart was about to explode from desire for this gorgeous young pup. I wanted to fill his every waking hour with pure muscle joy – like a good older muscle daddy should. He completely understood how smitten I was, because he felt the same way, too. Our moment of intimacy was interrupted by a woman’s voice. “Mr. Smithson, do I need to call security?” his secretary asked. “Not unless you want to watch them be easily defeated,” Bradley said without taking his eyes from mine. “I heard something like the cry of a wild animal, sir,” she added. “That was just my big friend, here, getting excited as we worked out the details of a big merger,” Bradley responded – still staring at me. “Shall I draw up so papers, sir?” she asked. “No, this is the kind of merger that is sealed in a much more intimate way and place than in a boardroom full of lawyers. You might want to start looking at china patterns for me, though.” Bradley confessed – and the surprising information was not lost on Sarah. Her response immediately told me she was very good at her job, but, then, I never doubted Bradley wouldn’t have the best. “I know some excellent wedding planners, sir,” Sarah said, and both Bradley and I turned to see her big smiling face before she turned and left the office. I immediately set the young handsome man down on the floor, noticing he was a little unstable merely because he had already gotten used to being held in the air. I took a step back. The word ‘wedding’ had made all of this emotion . . . all of this lust . . . all of this desire instantly real. I was suddenly a little dazed and confused. Bradley sensed all of this. He simply stepped forward, grabbed the front of my shirt, pulled, and was thankful that I bent over. He then kissed me gently, passionately, and lovingly. Instantly, my mind was clear and that one-point focus returned. His kiss made my body invincible. He made me feel like Superman. My muscle daddy-ness came roaring back into my body with a force so strong I had a feeling I could twist a bunch of iron girders into a bouquet for him. He pulled his face back and looked me in the eyes with a type of love I had never sensed before. It almost brought tears to my eyes. I knew what he was going to say before it even came out of his mouth. I realized, instantly, that a moment as special as this would never come again. I forced my humongous body and mind to be fully present – so I’d remember how all of this felt for the rest of my life. “I need you to be my muscle daddy, Butch,” Bradley said with more love than I knew was possible. “I don’t ever want to take another breath without you by my side. I offer you my heart, knowing you’ll protect it as if it were your own. I want you to help me to give up control.” I knew I didn’t need to respond with words. A man like Bradley needed actions. I raised my right arm into the most tensed biceps flex I had ever done in my entire life. I marveled at how blessed I was as the small man moved his face toward my big gun. When his lips met my hard muscle my body shook with incredible joy, my heart was filled with a love that couldn’t be explained, and my mind became completely jammed with only thoughts of Bradley. I instinctively knew to cup the back of his head with my other big paw and push his face into my big biceps even harder. I was sealing our muscle daddy – pup pact with a loving, but domineering action. It was what Bradley needed me to do. I was still – and would always be – a muscle daddy, no matter how much I loved the young man. That’s how he needed it to be. That’s what he wanted more than anything. I slowly brought my big arms down and wrapped them around the gorgeous man of my dreams. I lifted him off the ground in a tight, powerful bear hug. I surrounded him with muscle, but, even more so, I surrounded him with my daddy-ness. The end.
    8 points
  3. Part 2 Dante awoke the next morning in a comfortable hotel room bed. Normally, hotels were booked during Southern Decadence, but his young benefactor had just assured him that an accident caused one of the rooms to suddenly open…something about the tenants wanting to commit suicide or something. “What could’ve spurred that on?”, thought Dante. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Dante went to open it, and there standing before him, was a man holding a suitcase. The man was bald with tattoos running up and down his arm…and my, what an arm. The man before him looked as if he went to the gym regularly. Not a bodybuilders physique by any means, but he was definitely built like a bear. His burly chest was thick and ruddy, and his belly slightly overlapped his jeans, but it was supported by tree trunk legs. He looked down at Dante, and the skinny hobo had to wager his weight at around 280lbs. “Mr. K said he had a client in need of my services. Aren’t you gonna invite me in”? Dante moved aside to let the big man into the room. He set the briefcase on the bar and motioned Dante to sit in one of the high chairs. Dante looked at the briefcase, and when the bald man opened it, it was filled with razors and electric trimmers. “Looks like someone needs a haircut.” Dante closed his eyes as the barber worked his magic. His heart beating and purring in time with the buzz of the clippers. He suddenly got lost and remembered the events of last night…what did that strange man, Mr. K, do to him? What kind of job did he have? Suddenly the pop of the closed suitcase awoken Dante from his stupor. “All done little guy. Why don’t you shower and use this for your scalp. It’s bald now, and the skin will need treatment.” Dante hopped in the shower. It felt soooooo good to be able to shower, and Dante had lost track of how long it had been. He later applied the head cream and noticed how smooth his bald scalp was. His beard, however, stayed and was trimmed to perfection. “The barber was truly an artist”, Dante thought. When he was done, Dante grabbed the hotel towel, dried off, and stepped into the bedroom. On the king size bed was his barber, completely naked. Dante could see the massive meat hanging in between the big bear’s legs. “I’m here to provide my other services as well”, the mountainous man grinned. He gently leaned up to grab Dante’s waist and pulled him down on the bed. Dante was resting on the massive torso, when he felt the lips of the bear embrace his own. The kiss was fantastic, and Dante kissed back with all the strength he could muster. Dante’s hands wandered down to his lover’s nipples. He began to fondle them, and then the bear stopped. Dante looked at the big man and noticed for the first time that his eyes were pure white…just like Mr. K’s. The bear spoke. “Look little man, I want this, but I’m not a rapist. I’ve seen what that’s like. You’ve got to want this dick. Tell me what you want, or it’s no deal.” Dante was taken aback. Usually, no one ever gave him the option. They just took. He looked back into the face of his dominant hookup. “Yes daddy, please give it to me. Give me all of it.” The bear grinned. He then rubbed the precum from his leaking dick on Dante’s ass and slowly began to penetrate Dante’s hole. The monster cock stretched Dante as he slid further down to take more and more. The barber used Dante as a sex toy for hours, trying different positions here and there, and finally throwing Dante face down for a brutal fucking. “Oh boy, daddy’s gonna cum!!!!” Shortly after, Dante felt jets and jets rocket into his insides. His body felt flushed and he suddenly felt full, like he’d eaten a really big lunch. But he also felt energetic. “Damn boy that ass is good. I’m gonna go home now.” Dante felt that it was sudden how the big man had to leave, but he was used to it. He showed the barber out, and then went to shower again. He noticed a scale and step on it while waiting for the hot water…164lbs. He’d gained exactly 14 pounds, and it seemed to come after he’d been fucked. ‘That can’t be right…’, Dante thought as he stepped into the shower, but it showed. He saw his muscles were rounder and fuller than before. He was still small, but now he was a lot more muscular. He flexed and saw a tennis ball form where the bicep should be, and he now had enough muscle control to flex his pecs. While Dante admired his muscles, ambulances rushed to a nearby apartment complex. Reportedly, a barber was found dead in his bathtub with plugged-in clippers causing an electric shock in the water. The only reported witnesses were a young dark-skinned man in a black blazer with pierced ears and pearl white eyes.
    7 points
  4. Sorry it’s been a while, life got in the way. Also, I’ve switched to the first person and will try to keep it that way going forth. Without further adieu... Part VIII “What do you mean?” I say meekly. “Nothing man. I was messing with you. But don’t ever shove that down my throat without asking first, ok?” “Yes, of course. I don’t know what came over me.” I reply with my head aimed at the floor. “Anyways. I guess I better get going. Got some family stuff planned for today. Want to hang out again tonight? Jay replies eyeing my crotch. “Yeah. Sure.” I say nonchalantly, relieved he’s not upset anymore. Jay packs his stuff and heads to the front door leaving my in my room. I hear a “see ya bro” from Blake’s deep voice boom. I settle back down into my routine grabbing my controller to play some video games. When I get in the zone I totally blank and lose hours of time. It borders on an unhealthy escape from reality. As I play I feel my underwear getting tighter around my package in my tight whities. I know the beast is awakening and my hand immediately is drawn to it but I stop short of touching it. I want to feel the body wide swelling take its time, slowly stretching my underwear and shirt. As I play I feel my shirt tightening around my chest. I place my controller down and reach underneath my shirt to give my pecs a feel. A patch of hair greets my hand as it spreads from the center of my chest outwards, enveloping my nipples. I begin massaging my swelling chest, feeling the ropes of muscle tightening. My hand wanders down toward my semi-hard cock but gets sidetracked as I feel 6 defined lumps on my stomach. I pull my shirt up and greeting me is a thick set of abs that frame a patch of hair running from my bellybutton down to my underwear. I feel up my stomach, caressing the peaks and valleys formed by my abs. My other hand twirls my treasure trail. One hand begins to meander down to the distinct bulge formed in my underwear. Rubbing the thickening head and feeling the moist spot forming by my slit. I begin to pull my waistband away from my body to fully waken the monster from its slumber when I hear my doorknob squeak. I quickly pull my shirt down and try to grab my controller. “What ya doing, squirt?” I hear Blake boom from the door. “About to jerk off or something?” “No, just playing a game.” I reply trying to focus and not think about my cock and how good it feels stretching my underwear. I hear a rattling coming from the door too and turn my head to investigate the noise. “What are you doing?” “Just getting some preworkout in my system before I hit the gym.” He takes a big swig. “Get dressed, you’re coming with me.” He demands. “I...I don’t have any workout clothes.” I mutter. “You can borrow some of mine.” He grins and disappears from the door. He futures a few minutes later with two gym bags. He throws a shaker bottle my way that’s filled with a neon green liquid. “Drink up and let’s go.” In his Jeep I crack open the lid and take a sip of the unnaturally colored liquid. “Ugh. Takes like the color green.” I say. “It’s good for you.” Blake Replies downing his as he pulls into the gym. We walk into the gym and Blake scans his pass and puts me down as his guest. The guy behind the counter gives him a small smile and we head to the locker room, each carrying our own gym bag. We get inside the locker room and it’s pretty dead. I can hear a shower running but the main space is dead. Blake cracks open his bag and begins to undress. His stacked body comes into view as he removes his shirt, revealing his tight, ripped midsection. As the shirt is pulled up how thick, beefy pecs come into my view. They are wide and combined with his lats they make his upper body resemble an upside-down triangle. He peels off his sweats next and I see that he’s a trunks man. He turns to the side and his ample package bulges outward obscenely. He turns to me and says “you gonna stare or get changed bud?” I blush and turn around, slipping my shirt off. I peel off my sweats next, revealing my stuffed tighty whities to the room. I turn back around to get the clothes out of the bag to see Blake staring me down. “What?” I ask, still red in the face from earlier. “Nothing. You look like you’ve put quite a bit of size on recently.” He says incredulously. “Guess you’re finally growing into the family genes.” He chuckles. I rummage through my bag and find a pair of shorts pulling them out. “Not so fast.” Blake says as he pulls out a pair of underwear that’s missing the back piece. “You need to put that jock strap on first bud, gotta keep the package safe.” He smirks. I pull out the half underwear from my bag and hold it up. “Where’s the rest?” I ask. “Ahh. That’s it. Just there to keep the boys from bouncing around and let’s your ass get some air.” He says as he grabs his overflowing package. My face gets a shade redder as I turn around to shuck my underwear, revealing my slightly hairy butt. I put on the jock strap and try to get the bands all settled and my cock and balls stuffed inside in their swollen, semi-soft state. While my junk is not as big as it has been when I’m hard it prices difficult to get the entire thing completely covered. I finally get the most of it contained but a bit of my right but still won’t fit. I turn back around to retrieve the rest of my outfit from the bag. Staring back at me is the biggest penis I’ve ever seen before, not that I’ve seen many. “I figure since I’ve seen yours so many times in the past few days that it’s about time you saw mine. It’s only fair.” He gives me a toothy, canine-heavy smirk. “So, What do you think? Live up to your expectations?”
    4 points
  5. 4 points
  6. Five Percent pt.1 Night in New Orleans was always special, but this weekend, things were heating up. Hundreds of gay people flocked to Bourbon Street for Southern Decadence. The streets were filled with shirtless men ranging from bears, twinks, otters, and cubs of all races and sizes. As they paid money for clubs, made the frequent hookups through apps, and downed shots from aggressive ladies pulling in their unsuspecting and often drunken customers from the streets, Kalfu observed them all. He walked the streets bumping into people here and there. How fortune would soon change for them. Kalfu was one of the great voodoo dieties. His power rested in controlling the crossroads of fate and bringing people deliberate misfortune, bad luck, destruction and injustices. Kalfu had walked the streets of New Orleans for millennia, but to most, Kalfu resembled a young man. His blazer opened to the wind, revealing an athletically toned chest and defined abdominals; his tight with muscle within the trousers he wore, clean shaven face with ear piercings and a nipple ring on his right ariola. His ebony skin shone with the moonlight, and his eyes were pure white. After a while, he came across a bundle of wet blankets. The stench was nearly unbearable and the blankets seemed to be rising and falling on their own. Suddenly, Kalfu was greeted by a pair of dull eyes and a bearded face. “Hey guy, I’m trying to get some sleep, so if you’re here to piss on me too, could you hurry it up?” The demigod was taken aback by this, and scanned the man’s soul. “You’re Dante, aren’t you?” “Yeah, I was in a former life.” The demigod had come across bad luck, but never like this. As he continued using his powers to scan Dante, he saw everything…a young African-American boy of 14 who was outed by his teacher and deemed unholy at the Catholic school in his Parish; next, he saw that same boy being fucked under the school bleachers in the hot summer day, his assaulter, a football player, taking his virginity…and the boy enjoying the feeling he got; later the same boy wandering the streets forced to steal and taken in by a house “mother” after being kicked out of catholic home; the night the young man stole a loaf of bread from a store, and shared that loaf with other hungry men and women on the streets; now that man growing up gay and alone each and every year…longing to be loved and admired for who he is; to the last several hours, drinking his cares away. Kalfu saw everything…and then he saw opportunity. “I’m not here to piss on you, friend, but I sure could go for a drink. It’s been a long night.” Kalfu smiled, for he knew the next course of action. Dante looked at the bottle of rum stashed under his blankets. The bottle had a small corner left, maybe 5%. Dante handed the bottle to Kalfu. “It’s all I have left, but please feel free to take it.” Kalfu loved rum, and all he needed was an offering to seal the deal. Kalfu stretched out his long fingers and touched Dante on the shoulder. Then with lightning fast resources, Kalfu lightly stabbed Dante’s neck with his sharp fingernails, just enough to draw a drop of blood. “Ouch! What was that for?”. Dante yelped in pain. “Just a little trade. I’m gonna help you get what you want, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll get what I want.” Kalfu kicked the blankets aside to get a better look at Dante. On first glance, Dante seemed to weigh no more than 150 lbs. of wiry muscle. His fairer color complexion was a staunch difference from the demigod, but being in New Orleans, the demigod knew a blood creole when he saw one. Suddenly, Kalfu reached out his hand, and pulled Dante up from the sidewalk, standing at neck level now with the voodoo deity. All Dante saw was Kalfu mumbling some phrases, and then he was out…but not before hearing, “Let’s get you cleaned up. I’ve got a job for you.”
    3 points
  7. @muscleaddictSorry about the language but Fucking Awesome chapter Mate! I’m a sucker for romance and happy endings and I’m SO glad you delivered.?????? Thank you for writing this story for us, the time you spend editing it and rewriting it. Thanks for all the posing, Most Musculars and posers. Thanks for your dedication in writing this freaking awesome story. I really appreciate it. Now, I can go and read your old stories. I was saving it for when this story was over. They may tide me up till you come with the next one. ??? P.S. Keep on writing dude. Your style and writing will just get better and better with practice. ? P.P.S.Happy Holidays! ?????
    3 points
  8. Awww, thanks, matie!! ? Well it has taken a while to complete (I started the first draft around May) but I've loved every part of it! Writing the first draft, all the editing and polishing and of course sharing it on my blog and with all you guys here! My other stories aren't on the same scale as this one and they're all very light in tone but I hope you enjoy them anyway! You'll have to let me know which ones you like! ? And yeah - I'm hoping my writing will continue to get better! I still have so much to learn and improve. Happy holidays to you too, matie. One more week of work for me then I'm off until the new year! ?
    2 points
  9. YES!! One of you finally cracked. ? Awww, mate. I'm sorry, but also not sorry because I'm happy it touched you that much! Thank you for all the support you've given me throughout this story! ?
    2 points
  10. You made me weep.
    2 points
  11. Doc woke up, sore all over, again. He heard Ruben coming in from outside and tromping up the steps, the hard wood stairs creaking under his prodigious weight. He came into the bedroom shirtless, with Doc’s workout pants on, which fit Ruben like leggings. He was shiny with sweat. Doc noticed that he had some kind of a harness around his waist. “Where you been?” asked Doc. “Went for a little jog.” Ruben’s big roidgut and chest heaved in and out. “What’s that around your waist?” asked Doc. “Just a tow rope. Used it to pull your car behind me as I ran. Hope you don’t mind.” Doc twitched at the thought of Ruben running up and down the streets of his neighborhood, pulling his car up and down the steep hills around him. “Didn’t people honk at you?” Ruben laughed. “You think someone would honk at this?” He bounced his pecs. “Actually, someone did, but when he passed me, he got this panicky look on his face and then ran the stop sign we were coming up to.” “How far did you go?” “You remember the address we got off that little hoodlum that tried to shake you down for gear?” “Yeah.” “That far.” “You went to his house?” “Yep. I just stood on the street looking at it. He didn’t see me until he came out to go to work. That’s when I unhooked the tow line and started walking up to him. You should have seen him scurry to his car, fumbling to unlock the door. I got to him just as he got inside and slammed the door.” “Then what did you do?” “Nothing. Just watched him back out. I could smell pee though, so I don’t think he’ll be a bother. I just wanted to remind him not to be.” Doc shuddered at how the guy must have felt seeing a 365lb superheavyweight bodybuilder unhooking himself from a car he was towing, and then walking menacingly up thru his yard at him. No wonder he peed himself. Doc got up and walked over to his dresser and opened up the top drawer. “I have something for you, for making me feel safe,” said Doc, pulling out a pencil case sized box. He opened it up, and inside were 6 pre-filled syringes. “What’s that, Doc?” “It’s a six month cycle of the newest gear from eastern Europe. Supposed to promote unreal gains. I just got it in. Haven’t tried it on anyone yet. You game?” “There’s only six needles in there.” “Yep. One shot per month. If you still have open receptors for it, it should act pretty fast.” “No shit? Pin me with it, Babe,” said Ruben. He took the tow line off his waist and tossed amongst the rubble that was strewn around Doc’s bedroom. Then he pulled his jogging pants down over his huge glutes, turned around, and bent over. “Jesus,” said Doc as he soaked in the sight of Ruben’s oversized glutes and hamstrings, stretching out and rippling with striations. It reminded Doc of the rump of the thoroughbred horse he’d looked at once when he was thinking about getting into horse breeding. The same kind of muscularity and power. “Jesus,” he muttered again as he took an alcohol swab out of the kit and swiped Ruben’s ass with it. Then he jabbed the needle into Ruben’s thick right buttocks. “This might take awhile, the oil is very viscous,” said Doc, as he pushed down on the plunger. “That’s OK, Doc. Give it to me deep.” Doc looked over the massive glutes jutting out at him as he pushed the super roids into them. “You ever bottom?” he asked the big man. Ruben snorted. “About once a century,” he said. “That century almost up?” Doc asked. Ruben turned his head back and looked at Doc. “You think you could handle all that, Babe?” “I wouldn’t mind trying.” Doc pulled the needle out and wiped Ruben’s hard ass with the swab. Then he rubbed his fingers on the injection site. The muscle didn’t press in at all, but the skin over it was tight as a snare drum, and slid back and forth across the site. “Jesus,” muttered Doc for the third time. Ruben laughed as he pulled up his pants. “Tell you what, Doc. Let’s save that for another time. Your neighbors need their driveway resealed. I gotta get to work. Hey, you know what, man, I think that shit might already be kicking in. Either that or it’s getting really hot in here.” Ruben turned and looked into the full length mirror on Doc’s closet door. “Oh fuck yeah, look at me, Doc!” The skin on Ruben’s upper torso had flushed a deep red. New veins were popping up across his chest and down his arms. “I look like Bane!” Ruben declared. He flexed and his muscle stood out like never before. When he relaxed, his arms stuck out almost parallel to the floor, pushed up by his rising lats. “Goddamit, Doc. This is the best! I’m gonna go knock out that driveway job double time, then go lift. Fuck. Then I might go hunt down your little thug, show him what’s going on. He won’t just piss himself, seeing this!” Ruben turned and faced Doc, who, for the fourth time, muttered, “Jesus.” Ruben was a muscle freak extraordinaire, pumped to the extreme without having pumped up. Ruben stepped toward Doc, and his quads ripped thru his running pants, shredding the nylon like paper towels. The pant tatters fell around his feet, leaving him wearing just an old jockstrap. “And you know what, Doc? I’m not doing this on my own.” He grabbed a syringe out of the kit, then pinned Doc down to the bed and jabbed the needle into Doc’s ass. “The fuckk….”cried out Doc, as he felt the needle and the oil start to go into him. But he didn’t even try to struggle, not that he could have fought it. He had secretly been thinking about trying this stuff out, but just hadn’t had the nerve to do it himself. His body relaxed as Ruben plunged the syringe into him. After what seemed like ten minutes, Ruben pulled the needle out and massaged Doc’s glute with his big beefy hand. “There ya go, Doc. You on a new journey. Now I gotta go knock out that driveway.” He slapped Doc on the ass, then stood up and sauntered out of the room. Doc stayed in the bed for awhile, feeling the new gear course thru his veins. The temperature in the room felt like it had been turned up to 100 degrees. His skin was sweaty and flush. He sat up and wiped himself down with the sheet. When he stood up, he realized he didn’t feel any soreness. He walked over to the mirror and noticed that all the deep bruising he’d gotten from roughhousing with Ruben were fading. There were pencil-sized veins running down his arms. He flexed his biceps, and instead of the rounded bulge he was used to seeing, a big peak rose up and a deep split ran across the top. “Fuck yeah,” said Doc, with a big grin. He got dressed and went across the street to his neighbor’s front yard. Ruben had put on a pair of cargo shorts and was about to start work on the driveway. “Put that shit away, man, aren’t you hungry? Let’s go get something to eat,” said Doc, who had never been hungrier in his life. “Good idea, Doc. But we can just go into your neighbor’s kitchen. I got the fridge stuffed with food.” Ruben got the keys from his van, and they went inside. For the next hour, they gorged themselves on anything they could find. Doc was ravenous, and everything tasted so good, he couldn’t stop himself. Neither of them even spoke, they just ate. And ate. Doc felt like a bloated animal, and he loved it. “Let’s go lift,” grunted Ruben as he wiped his mouth with his huge forearm. They headed to the most hardcore gym in town. For the next 3 hours they went thru a grueling workout. Doc had always limited his workouts to an hour, knowing that anything more than that could lead to muscle atrophy. But now it was different. He felt super charged, like he’d been giving ten B12 shots. They both stopped between sets and flexed in the gym mirrors. Doc’s muscles popped out like he was ready to go on stage as a middleweight bodybuilder. When he lifted his tank top and flexed his abs, an 8pak showed up. Doc grinned like a kid, seeing the stacked bricks. He used to have to try hard just to get a 6pak to show. Not anymore. And Ruben. He was pumped up beyond superheavyweight. Doc helped him peel out of his UA shirt, and he seemed to expand out even more. He roared with every pose he hit in the mirror. His upper arms had to measure over 26 inches. There wasn’t a guy in the gym that wasn’t staring at them in awe and envy. At the end of the workout, they spent another half hour flexing and posing, side by side in the wall mirrors. Doc had stripped down to his briefs, Ruben to his jockstrap. Both of them had a pool of sweat at their feet when they were done. Some of the guys watching had shot in their gym shorts. Doc couldn’t believe it was him he was looking at in the mirror. So swole and veiny. When they weighed themselves, Ruben came in at 379lbs, a 14 pound gain. Doc weighed in at 223, thirteen more pounds than he’d ever weighed, and far more lean. And this was just Day One of the cycle.
    2 points
  12. Since not everyone ventures to the artwork section, I figured ( and asked an admin first) that since my MuscleGrowth Graphic Novels are also steeped in story - that it would be cool to share with everyone in the story section. So far I have had 3 full comics published for my patrons on patreon, with the 3rd's epilogue being published this month. Anyway - I'm rambling... So without further adieu. Here ya go! Covers of comics with corresponding PDF links to read the stories. My other works and muscle art can be found here: http://www.patreon.com/gymjunkiemuscle A L I E N: Antares: https://www.dropbox.com/s/bftmbban7xiq5t2/ALIEN_ANTARES.pdf?dl=0 (Original Story 20+pgs) A Night in the Museum: The Crown of Hercules: https://www.dropbox.com/s/8tfbexaw6v43ccw/Night in the Museum.pdf?dl=0 (Original Story 20+pgs) King of Thieves: The Stone of Power: https://www.dropbox.com/s/i6o40u35q3jfa2x/KingOfThievesComic_0618.pdf?dl=0 (Based a short story I saw on Tumblr somewhere)
    1 point
  13. As they say in the theatres, Bravo! As a side, theres so much of me in this story it's scary! Keep up the good work!
    1 point
  14. Enhancements Part Eleven: Rebirth Eddie stood in the small antechamber to the exam room, unscrewing a plastic water bottle as he glanced at the dual monitors of the control computer. He gulped down a few sips of water. “Thanks, C,” he said to the tall black guy he had just shared Trevor with. “Maybe see you in the club tonight?” ”Goin’ out of town tonight to see my sister,” he answered. “Ok, maybe the staff retreat next week then. Later.” C nodded in the affirmative as he grabbed his clothes from a drawer embedded in the wall and left. Now to business. This was going great, thought Eddie. The control screen read “Final Stage: Second Puberty. Step 1: Selections.” There was a long form of options on the other monitor. Meanwhile, Trevor scrolled through a series of icons back on the iPad in the exam room. They had silhouettes of men on them, each with different body shapes. The icons represented the stereotypical gay archetypes, like bear, twink, and jock. The text on the screen read “choose for self”. Trevor tapped jock without much needed deliberation. There were more icons now, with new images. “Let’s see...” Trevor swiped through the different icons, surveying them and imagining what they meant. Baseball jock looked hot: there was a tall, lean guy with thick arms and nice pecs. He had was mostly shaven, save for a light spread of hair on his chest and under his arms. He wore a white jockstrap with a gray bike waistband and a cup. Next was swimmer jock, an even thinner guy, unsurprisingly completely smooth. This guy was wearing a tight green Speedo. Next came the wrestler jock, shorter than the other two, but considerably stockier, and hairier. He was wearing a silver singlet, which left a defined outlined bulge of a thick long cock. Second to last was the quartback, who looked like the baseball jock, but considerably beefier. He wore a jockstrap with a thicker waistband, a gray pouch and streaks of electric blue in the straps. The last icon was grayed out unselectable and had the words “ultra jock”, but Trevor only got an irritating error sound when he tapped it. ”In that case I’ve gotta go for the cliche quarterback I guess!” He tapped the icon enthusiastically. Back in the control room, Eddie was receiving a data on Trevor’s current physiology and needed stats. “Quarterback, eh?” He dragged up another window into the main screen and surveyed the report. “Muscle growth: 200% mass. 140 lbs => 210 lbs. Height increase: 5’10” => 6’3”.” Eddie clicked the “Advanced” button next to these stats. The options were all disabled with a large “even distribution” checkbox overriding further edits. Eddie unchecked the box and tweaked the numbers a little to give Trevor’s pecs, biceps, and glutes a little extra mass. He returned to the main window, leaving the body hair options to default: chest moderate, stomach moderate, back none, pubic light, armpit heavy, face none, arms and legs light. Next was genitals. Cock length was set to grow from 5” to 7”; why don’t we make that 10, thought Eddie. Next was girth, which Eddie was bad at estimating from numbers. He simply dragged the slider a little further to the right. He increased the testicles slider: Trevor currently had them at “normal”, which Eddie moved two notches up to rest at baseball. He left the cum production and musk settings alone, then made some edits in the behavior module. Eddie was prompted to enter a behavior scenario, and after some debate between “locker room rivals” and “coach’s best player”, he chose the latter. Playing a coach seemed hot, and he hadn’t done a sports scenario like this in a while, he thought. Next he needed to choose his own mods. Hmm, what kind of coach should he be? Maybe an older hairy guy... nah. Maybe a young guy, nearer to Trevor’s age. Maybe Coach got injured in his prime and had to give up playing and start coaching. Yeah... Eddie entered in his growth options, popping a modest boner in the process. He had filled in the blanks that Trevor unknowingly provided him- scenario one down. A few minutes later, Eddie wrapped up his work and confirmed. A new alert box appeared, with two columns, one for Trevor and one for Eddie. Under his own name, Eddie read: Delivery Methods: Clothing (Jock) Hormones (500mL, Oral) Pheromones (Subject A) Transition stage: wear off (2 hours) And for Trevor, it read: Clothing (Jock) Hormones (3 L, oral) Subject B ejaculate This was the recipe for the two men’s enhancements. This was the final stage of the conversion program: a transformation and role play; and these were the ingredients to do it. “Damn, 5 liters of Hormones?!” thought Eddie. He knew that might be a pain. That was a lot of liquid, and the stuff didn’t start to taste good until you’d already had some of it in your system. Still, he had never tried the clothing delivery method yet, and he had an idea for how to work all of this in to the scenarios he crafted for Trevor. Eddie went over to the side of the room and pressed a few buttons. After some clicking and whirring sounds, a panel in the wall opened and a black and white Pump jockstrap dropped down from a hidden recess. Next to it were two bottles, one about the size of a bottle of soda and the other slightly bigger than a milk jug. A fountain machine like nozzle dispensed a thick white liquid into each. Back in the exam room, a similar panel in the wall opened up to reveal a jock for Trevor to put on. It was the same one the guy in the quarterback photo was wearing. Trevor kicked off his gold jock and pulled this one up to his waist, struggling to stifle his erection to to fit into it properly. It felt nice, he thought. Snug, not too tight, and a nice soft material. He went back to the iPad to see if there was anything new to do while waiting for Eddie to return. The jock kind of itched a little. Trevor rubbed his package, thinking about the quarterback from the photo. “Damn,” he thought. “If only I could be as studly of a quarterback as him.” Wait- that wasn’t right. He had never played football before- yes, yes he had and still does! I’m the third-string quarterback for the Arbor University Wolves! I’ve even got the uniform, he thought, pulling the jock waistband away from his body, allowing it to snap back proudly. The door in the back opened. Eddie was coming back- no, he wasn’t supposed to call Coach by his first name. He was just Coach to Trevor. Coach was carrying a big jug of what looked like milk. He was hairless now, save for big tufts of black fur under his armpits. His biceps and shoulders were thick and built, and his pecs were plump globes of muscle. He was naked, save for a pair of short red gym shorts which ended above his middle thigh. A white waistband poked out from above the shorts, revealing a thin strip of Coach’s ass between it and the top of the shorts. “Well, if it isn’t Trevor the Third... whatcha doing, dreaming of what’ll be like to be the real quarterback someday?” ”No...” Trevor was ashamed. He was scrawny compared to the rest of the team, compared to Coach. He couldn’t remember why he even joined in the first place. Coach answered that right away. “Why’d you even join this team anyway? Was it just because you’re a horny gay boy looking to see what a true man is like? Huh? We couldn’t deny you a spot on the roster... what with fair participation rules and all that. But you know, we do get a guy like you joining the team every now and then, and we’ve got ways of dealing with it.” Eddie smirked. This was one of the hottest scenes he’d ever acted out for someone’s final transformarion. And with Trevor having such a drastic change from a 1 to a 6... Well, no wonder he needed to bring in so much stuff. “You know, I’ve got this special protein shake right here for you, Trevor. I can sympathize with you a little... wishing to be manly and powerful. All you gotta do is drink this and you’ll be well on your way.” Trevor rubbed his hand over his package again. This jock was starting to feel tighter, and he felt himself beginning to sweat. That jug was huge...how could he finish it all? He twisted off the plastic cap and took a whiff- it smelled ok; a faint milky odor. He picked up the jug, supporting its weight with his other hand, and raised it to his lips, taking a tiny sip. It was gross. First, it had a thick consistency, like a smoothie that someone hadn’t added enough liquid to. Second, the taste was somewhat medicinal, and made worse by the addition of some kind of artificial vanilla flavor which only drew more attention to its awfulness. Finally though, was the feeling Trevor felt after he swallowed. Even the small sip felt heavy in his stomach, like he ate something very substantial and filling. He estimated he could drink maybe 5 or 6 more before being full, let along drinking the whole jug. As he lowered the jug down to work up the courage to drink more, Eddie became irate. “You don’t got all day little man! Drink it!” Trevor pushed the jug up to his mouth again, this time taking a bigger sip at first and then leaving it there to chug it as slowly as he could. He felt uncomfortable and humiliated- maybe this was some kind of prank Coach was pulling on him? Any second now, could every teammate come out of hiding to laugh at him? Still, he had to keep going. If it really worked... his life would be changed forever. Eddie sensed he needed to give Trevor some encouragement, so he knelt down and whispered in his ear: “if you finish all that, little stud in training, I’ll let you have all of this.” He stood up, stepped in frame of Trevor’s view as he continued to drink, and lowered his shorts to reveal the front of his jock. His dick was rock hard, pointed up and to the left, straining the fabric and leaving a massive outline through the thin white stitching. His balls sagged outside the pouch, too massive to sit within, and the tip of his cock peeked out from the top, only kept in by the tightness of the jock pulled over his entire manhood. “Fuck,” Trevor thought, and continued drinking. He was starting to feel full, but he tried to banish that thought from his mind. How much was left in the jug? It didn’t matter, his conscious argued back, all that mattered was that he finish it. He felt stronger now, not just of willpower but of physicality. Inside his body, the growth compound started to be absorbed by his digestive system, its speed of processing greatly exceeding that of standard food. The compound entered his blood stream and was carried around to every tissue in his body, delivering to each cell a singular message: grow. Along with the growth compound came flood of nutrients, the main reason behind the thick viscosity of the stuff, which supplied Trevor’s body with all it needed to expand. Every aspect of his body would be enhanced- and first, of course, there were the muscles, thick fibers of protein multiplying and thickening into powerful slabs. Trevor felt his whole body tighten as if his muscles were flexing without any physical movement. First, he felt it in his biceps, which swelled up. He noticed the weight of the jug less and less, lowering it from his mouth to assess the cause of this sensation. His jaw dropped as he saw his arms in the mirror, now nearly twice as thick in diameter. Next came his chest, the growth of his pecs, lats, and delts manifesting as enormous tightness. He looked at his chest in the mirror, grasping his pecs with his palms in disbelief. Gone were the days of flat chested, skinny boy Trevor; now it was tike for stud Trevor, and stud Trevor has big, meaty pecs. The rest of his body multiplied in a similar way, including his ass, which swelled up into a perfect bubble butt, still somehow framed by two straps of electric blue elastic. Though his body had grown significantly, his jockstrap was still holding strong. The elastic of the waistband and straps was pushed to its limit, and Trevor’s arousal at his new body started to stretch the fabric of the pouch. But he was still just under half done with the growth juice. “Keep going,” commanded Coach. Trevor was eager to comply, now not even caring about the rank taste of the compound. He raised it to his lips once more, this time turning the bottle fully upside down and chugging as fast as he could. It felt different, now. He became accustomed to the taste and thickness of it, and now even welcomed the previously uncomfortable feeling of fullness. In Trevor’s body, new changes started to manifest. The growth compound was composed of a mixture of different molecules: of course, the standard muscle enhancing variety was the most abundant, but now that Trevor had ingested more volume, some of the other molecules were now present in high enough concentrations to become active. Simplest of all dealt with hair growth. Thousands of growth molecules swarmed the existing hair follicles in Trevor’s torso and armpits and caused the hair there to thicken and grow longer. New follicles were formed too, causing even more body hair to sprout from Trevor’s body. He felt a small prickling sensation as his previously bare chest erupted into a thicket of sweaty black hairs. A dark trail grew down the center of his abdomen to his pubes, and his armpits exploded with what was now truly a jungle of hair. Still more molecules were at work. Other compounds migrated to various areas of Trevor’s body, including his pits and crotch. There, they grew into new glands, some to produce sweat, but others to produce powerful pheromones. As Trevor’s new testosterone-producing glands embedded themselves beneath his skin, an overwhelming musk filled the air of the room. Eddie, who was become increasingly turned on by watching Trevor’s transformation, took a deep breath, inhaling loads of testosterone laced pheromones that the newcomer was pumping out. He pulled off his jockstrap, allowing his 8” cock to spring to freedom. Precum dribbled from its tip as Eddie pumped his shaft with his left hand and reached for lube with his right. ”Keep drinking, man,” Eddie commanded, as he stroked his cock to cover it with copious amounts of lube. He walked around to Trevor’s backside and slapped his cock against the stud’s muscle ass. Trevor was hunched over now, having emptied the jug, presenting his ass to Coach. His gut felt heavy and full, his body unable to keep up with the voracity with which he chugged the protein. Slowly but surely, his stomach digested the thick slurry and the growth compounds migrated to the one part of Trevor’s body yet unenhanced: his cock and balls. Meanwhile, Eddie was rubbing the head of his dick against Trevor’s hole. “Well now you look like a real man, time to treat you like one!” he grunted, thrusting his cock into Trevor’s ass. The feeling was immediate, and indescribable. Trevor felt the warmth and power of Coach’s cock plunging into his wanting ass, the sounds of grunting and sex only enhancing the eroticism. Eddie’s cock pulsed and throbbed with some new growth of its own as Trevor’s pheromones took effect. This growth pushed into Trevor, who was roaring in pleasure commanding Coach to duck him harder. Finally, all the remaining compounds in Trevor’s cock and balls reached a critical mass, causing an explosion of growth and sex. It hurt for only a moment as the pouch of Trevor’s poor jock ripped and gave way to his enormous and thick 10” cock. His big swinging balls pulsed as rope after rope of hot cum erupted from his huge meat, spraying an endless stream of seed across the room. Eddie kept fucking, meanwhile, until finally coming himself, delivering another surge of growth juice directly into Trevor’s ass. In his brain, synapses formed and memories were imprinted as testosterone took over. Gone we’re the days of ever being attracted to women, replaced by thoughts of muscle studs and hard cocks. Eddie pounded Trevor every way imaginable, after that: cowboy, missionary, jackhammer, you name it, and Eddie delivered another load deep into Trevor. Trevor was in bliss, full of cum like any new gay stud should be, he thought. But unbeknownst to anyone were the permanent changes Eddie brought to Trevor’s body....
    1 point
  15. Hello all. Found this story on an old computer. If I remember correctly, it was inspired by a story about the wrestler Scott Steiner taking on a bodybuilder from the 80’s. I can picture the bodybuilder, but for the life of me I can’t remember his name. Anyway, here’s my story inspired by the theme. It’s way over the top and fantastical. It’s unfinished so feel free to add (and share) your own ending. Wrestler vs. Bodybuilder Scott Samson made his way to the ring with his trademarked air of utter confidence. Standing in the ring, shaking himself out, the renowned professional wrestler glared at the entryway, awaiting his opponent as he removed his robe to reveal skin tight, mid thigh length black lycra shorts. The man was massive. His fans roared their approval when he unveiled his hugely muscular physique. They could hardly wait for the spectacle of this huge man flexing and posing. His signature post introduction routine always drove his fans into a frenzy. This special exhibition match was going to be unique. Samson, arguably the greatest wrestler ever to prowl the squared circle, would be taking on one Matthew Robert Horn. Horn was bodybuilding's current Mister Olympia and had won that title consecutively more than any man in history. To make things even more interesting, The massive Mr. Horn was fresh off winning one of the year's major grand champion titles in Mixed Martial Arts, the first professional bodybuilder ever to do so. Horn appeared and a stunning sight he was. He appeared to be in the best shape a human specimen could be in, even bigger than most fans remembered. He wore black and yellow striped, square-cut posers and nothing else aside from a black, rubber wrist band with the slogan “No such thing as too big!” printed in yellow letters. Almost as wide as he was tall, the first thing that dropped jaws was the size of his upper arms. He had an enormous overall build, but his arms stuck out in particular, the triceps and biceps bulging out without even flexing them. His signature single biceps pose was so awe inspiring that it had earned him the nickname “Matterhorn” in the elite professional bodybuilding circles. Horn stepped into the ring and the two opponents glared at each other as the ring announcer made the introductions. Samson raised both his arms in a double biceps pose and as he’d expected, the fans roared their approval as the two guns peaked into their full physical majesty. Horn didn't flinch. He slowly raised his right arm and flexed his own massive biceps. A hush came over the crowd as the mass of his biceps and the thickness of the triceps combined to make an unbelievable sight. Horn smirked at Samson for having the nerve to keep flexing in the face of such sheer muscle size and power. Horn moved his forearm back and forth, accentuating his muscle and turning his wrist to add to the definition, expanding that massive forearm in the process. Samson continued flexing and the ref appeared in the ring, a tape measure trailing behind him. "Looks like these two have something to prove.” The fans loved this and roared with approval, the prospect of these two behemoths engaged in a flex off prodded them out of the stupor that the shock of Horn’s sheer size had put them into. The ref placed the tape measure around Horn's right bicep. The big bodybuilder steadied his flex at maximum so that the ref could get an accurate reading. The referee’s eyes went wide with shock. After a moment of being struck speechless, he managed to read the measurement aloud: “Twenty-four inches”. These were wrestling fans. Samson was their guy, but the sheer mass of Horn’s biceps stunned the crowed. Many were shaking their heads in disbelief. The silence was broken by Samson. He said nothing, merely clapping his hands slowly in mock applause as he smirked at Horn. The big blond wrestler then raised his left arm but rather than flex that massive biceps right away, he merely snapped his fingers to get the ref’s attention. Tearing his attention from Horn, the ref moved to measure Samson's left biceps which loomed huge even relaxed. Samson turned his wrist in and his forearm bulged huge with thick veins everywhere. He brought his wrist out straight and then flexed that muscle up high and huge. The ref wrapped the tape around the wrestler’s bulging upper arm and carefully took its measure. “I don’t believe it Ladies and gentlemen, Twenty-four huge inches!”, the referee shouted. “The Matterhorn has met his match!”. The crowd erupted in a frenzy of cheers and applause! Samson merely raised an eyebrow as he directed his gaze from his flexing biceps to Horn who was gaping at Samson's arm, then back at his own. “I-It’s as big as mine?!” Horn stammered, clearly shocked that a mere wrestler had been able to match him. “A tie”. He said, absolutely stunned. Samson’s expression changed to a slight knowing grin. “Nah, ties are boring.” Bearing down, Samson forced his biceps to bulge still larger. The tape measure slipped in the ref’s fingers from twenty-four to twenty-four and one quarter! Twenty-four and one half! Twenty-four and three quarters! When that awesome arm reached Twenty-five massive inches, Horn's jaw dropped. He slowly lowered his own arm, no longer eager to see the enormous muscle he’d spent years sweating for in the gym get ever more dwarfed in comparison to Samson’s As the wrestler’s biceps just continued to bulge larger, Horn shook his head in abject disbelief. “You’re...HUGE!” Blurted the big bodybuilder. He then glanced around, embarrassed that in his shock he’d exclaimed his awe aloud. Samson smirked at Horn’s dumbfounded remark and brought his right arm up, going into a double biceps pose. “Matterhorn, say hello to a couple of Mount Everests.” He laughed with smug satisfaction as he continued pumping those mountainous muscles larger, the tape measure reading inexorably increasing as Samson flexed. Twenty-five and one quarter! Twenty-five and one half! Twenty-five and three quarters! Twenty-six! Samson’s mighty arm was utterly dwarfing that of an Olympia class bodybuilder! Its sheer mass was making Horn feel queasy. He felt himself sway unsteadily on his feet. He had to concentrate to maintain his balance as he wiped at the cold sweat that had broken out on his brow. Samson smiled as he surveyed the massive peak that was straining the referee’s measuring tape . “Think I’ll stop right there. Looks like I'm making the muscleman go a little bit green around the gills, wouldn't want to make him faint dead away before the match even starts”. Deafening cheers drowned out the announcer who was attempting to call the measurements. The announcer moved for the mic. "And your winner, Scott Samson with 26 inches!” The crowd went wild as the announcer continued, "We know who's bigger now, how's about we find out who’s stronger”. Through his astonishment, an explanation for Samson’s impossible mass suddenly occurred to Horn. He'd seen it all in his career, the myriad of ways unscrupulous competitors used artificial shortcuts to achieve fake gains. Samson must have cheated his way to such implausible massiveness. Whether it was implants or some kind of injectable, Horn didn't know. The technique might have been flawless but faking size was one thing, strength was a different story. Horn was determined to crush Samson’s superficial bulk, arm to arm. He'd show this preening faker the power within true, hard earned muscle. The crowd roared their approval. The ref had an armwrestling table brought into the ring. As soon as it was set up the two muscle gods charged the table and crashed their mighty guns together. Samson pressed ahead three inches and Horn pushed him back to center. Horn tried an offensive thrust but Samson didn't budge, a big smile on his face as he held Horn, at bay. Horn sneered. “Get ready to have that stupid smile wiped off your face. I'm gonna give you until the count of three, then I’m going to snap this puny, puffed up arm of yours like the little twig it really is!” Samson smirked. “Not sure a muscle-head like you can count that high, so allow me.” Samson began to count aloud. "One", he called and he pressed Horn’s gigantic arm four inches past the neutral position. Horn’s mighty arm flexed to new heights as he struggled to regain lost ground but he couldn’t budge Samson’s enormous arm. "Two", Samson took Horn down 4 more inches, four inches closer to defeat, like the other man wasn’t even there, even as he increased his mighty effort to resist Samson’s powerful onslaught. Horn’s arm began to tremble, every vein and fiber of muscle present on the big bodybuilder’s arm was visibly straining in an all out effort to resist Samson. At that instant, Horn’s biceps seemed beyond the size that any human muscle should be able to attain. But Samson’s big, rock-steady, mountain of a muscle totally absorbed all the incredible power Horn’s massive, straining biceps could muster. Samson grinned cooly. Then, he flexed his mighty biceps up to new heights. The sheer size of it was astounding and the move demonstrated that he had been able to drive Horn to the verge of defeat with only a fraction of his biceps true power. Horn’s biceps quivered and quaked with strain as it was utterly dwarfed by Samson’s even larger muscle. Eyes wide, Horn could only shake his head in disbelief. In all his years of bodybuilding, he had never seen an arm so huge. He'd been sure such size couldn't be real. But the wrestler’s strength was all too real. He knew what was coming. “Three.” Samson declared and with almost casual ease, he finished Horn off, slamming his arm to the table with a loud thud that seemed to reverberate throughout the stadium. Samson’s huge biceps had put Matt`s massive peak down for the count, literally. "Your winner…..Scott Samson!" The ref lifted Samson's arm in Victory for the crowd’s approval. Humiliated, Horn hurled the table aside and charged. He was going to enjoy taking this smug bastard apart with his peerless MMA abilities. The two opponents started trading blows. And not just any blows. These were mountain crushing roundhouse rights that came fast and furious, each opponent alternately delivering one to the other. First Samson’s massive, balled fist plowed into Horn’s thick chest with a resounding thump. Then Horn let fly in return with his own haymaker that landed against Samson’s chiseled abs with a teeth rattling thud. A huge one from Samson pummeled Horn’s abs in return. Horn shook it off with a grunt and his careening fist pounded Samson’s bulging pecs with a sound like a sonic boom. Feeling his battle lust rise, Samson laughed heartily as his powerful body shrugged off Horn’s punches. He focused attention on that perfectly developed bodybuilder chest of Horn’s, wanting to pit himself against the muscleman’s strongest attribute. The two titans continued to take each other’s measures with probing punches, testing for weaknesses that could be exploited. Horn decided that it was time to take the wind out of Samson’s sails. Clasping both hands together into a club-like double-fist, he brought down a devastating blow just above Samson’s solar plexus. The plan was to stagger his opponent with the devastating hit, then follow up by pounding his vulnerable midsection, reducing him to a breathless sitting duck to be finished off at Horn’s leisure. Instead, Horn’s opening punch merely bounced off Samson’s chest as the wrestler anticipated Horn, flexing his pecs into the incoming punch. Those granite-hard muscles deflected Horn’s fists, the recoil causing the bodybuilder to stagger backwards. Horn struggled and managed to recover his balance enough to follow up with his planned assault on Samson’s exposed eight-pack but the way all his power had just bounced off Samson’s thick pecs unsettled Horn. The wrestler had to be putting up a front. No one could absorb such a blow without feeling it. Horn roared with fury as his powerful right found its mark, pounding Samson’s abs. Still roaring, Horn pressed his assault, landing one devastating punch after another against Samson’s gut. It was like punching a brick wall, but given enough time, Horn knew that even a brick wall would crumble before the titanic muscular power he’d worked so hard in the gym to acquire. Horn looked up to make sure Samson didn’t slip in a lucky punch and interrupt the rhythm of his onslaught. Horn expected to see Samson’s face contorted with pain, his limbs flailing uncontrollably as he was battered so relentlessly. To his shock, he was met by a big grin of amusement as Samson stood tall, bouncing massive pecs that made even Horn’s renowned chest development suffer by comparison. “Careful there Matt. Ya never know when I might decide to flex the old beer gut. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” Horn struggled not to show his shock at Samson’s imperviousness to his punches. ‘Beer gut?’ Samson was mocking him, he may have been a mere wrestler but the man had abs that could hold their own on any bodybuilding contest stage in the world. And what did he mean ‘might decide to flex’, Horn wondered as he reluctantly marveled at Samson’s mid-section. Those abs...those obliques, the way his fists were beginning to throb with pain as his mightiest punches bounced impotently off them....Samson had to be at full flex. “Not...gonna psych me out. No way you can take much more of this.” Horn growled as he intensified his attack, strengthening his punches and increasing the speed with which they came. Samson's face changed, the grin was gone, replaced by cold glare. “Not calling me a liar now, are ya Matt?” When Horn drew back for his next punch, Samson put both massive arms behind his head and with a sneer of contempt at Horn’s puny punches, he crunched down hard, flexing his abs into super-defined columns of muscle that looked like a wall of cinder blocks. But cinder blocks would have yielded more beneath Horn’s fist. Horn’s battle roar transmuted to a howl of pain as his hand nearly shattered against Samson’s abs. Horn clutched his battered fist as Samson held his pose, flexing his impervious abs. The cocky wrestler even gyrated his hips, taunting Horn. “Why are you stopping muscleman? Thought you said this ole boy’s Bud belly couldn't take it. Surely you’re not gonna wimp out just because of a few bruised knuckles.” Horn gulped at the diamond hard cuts of muscle undulating powerfully over every inch of Samson’s midsection. He fumed at the patronizing way Samson kept using phrases like beer gut and Bud belly to describe abs that put Horn’s own to shame. “Or maybe you’re just mulling over some advice to give me; help me whip this gut into shape like you muscle show boys do.” The bodybuilder’s face burned red at the wrestler’s condescension. Even though Horn was currently in peak contest condition, his hyper-trained abs looked soft and barely defined compared to Samson’s astoundingly ripped abdominal display. Horn was becoming almost mesmerized by the wrestler’s undulating abs and obliques. The crowd was going wild. Samson seemed as though the cheers were a charge of electricity. He landed one of his own punches and Horn flailed back. “Snap out of it, boy, you're starting to drool.” Horn drew back to retaliate but Samson swatted away the punch with ease. His name was being shouted from the entire arena. He landed two quick, easy jabs, one to the right side of Horn’s square jaw and followed up by a left, the perfectly executed hits whipped Horn's head from one side to the other. Horn's arms fell to his sides. “Down goes your guard.” Samson narrated with a smirk and two more jabs that left Horn's body swaying unsteadily. “And there goes your balance.” Samson’s precise jabs seemed effortless, as though designed only to demonstrate his precision. But their power devastated Horn. “I could knock you out cold with these little love taps but I'm guessing this crowd wants me to show off a little.” Samson decided to put more raw power into a punch. “Let’s see how them mighty pecs stand up to a punch with a little more oomph.” Stomping the canvas like an enraged bull might paw at the dirt, he charged at Horn and let him have a haymaker of a right directly to the bodybuilder’s muscular, prize winning chest. The sheer power of it lifted Horn off his feet, catapulting his big frame into the ropes. The big bodybuilder struggled not to pass out from the devastating concussive force. He had never imagined that his mightily muscled body could be hurled through the air with such ease by one single blow. How could this buffoonish wrestler turn out to be so impossibly powerful. In perfectly timed anticipation, as if to confirm Horn’s fear of being out of his league, Samson planted his feet, put his hands behind his back and flexed his chest and abs into a wall of rippling muscle. The ropes had slingshotted the hapless Horn back toward the waiting wrestler and the big bodybuilder thumped into Samson’s muscles as he flexed them. Incredibly, Horn bounced off that wall of flexing muscles and back toward the ropes. His ears ringing and his vision blurring from the force of the impact. Samson charged closer and when the helpless, disoriented Horn careened off the ropes once more, he was again driven into Samson, who again flexed his pecs, bouncing Horn back into the ropes. Samson now stood toe to toe with Horn hemming him in against the ropes and with nothing more than the flexing of his mighty pecs and an expert sense of timing, Samson was pec-bouncing Horn senseless, hammering the bodybuilder into the ropes only to have them rebound Horn back against his flexing pecs over and over. Complete chaos erupted in the stands as the huge muscleman was bounced back and forth with each of Samson’s flexes like Horn was little more than a plastic ping pong ball. Being pummeled helpless by the immense power generated by the mere flexing of Samson’s thick pulsating pecs broke Horn’s will. “H-how can he be doing this to me? He’s gonna pound me to pulp...just by f-flexing”. There could be no doubt. The wrestler had him powerfully, even frighteningly outmanned, overpowered and outmuscled. Horn knew he had to get the ref’s attention, he had to concede before Samson killed him. But he was at the mercy of the wrestler’s mighty flexing pecs. Samson was watching Horn’s eyes closely as he effortlessly and repeatedly bounced the big bodybuilder off his pecs. When he saw the look of defeat there, Samson clamped a bearhug onto Horn on his next impact. He stepped back toward center ring with the dazed muscleman as he spoke close to his ear in order to be heard over the crowd. “Thinking about tapping out, muscleman? You wimp out on me and I’m gonna find you after the bout and I’m gonna stretch out on my back and instead of bouncing you off the ropes I'm gonna bounce you into the stratosphere, then into orbit.” As if to prove he could do it, Samson performed a slowly building flex of his pecs as he spoke that made Horn’s eyes go huge with disbelief. “Y-yer pecs…” Horn wheezed. “...crushing...me.” “Aw, I’m barely flexing, runt. Now man up and pay attention. Stay in the match and you stay alive. Got it? Otherwise I show you what happens when I flex these pecs for real.” Eyes wide with fear and awe, Horn nodded his obedience. “J-just please...stop f-flexing.” “Good boy.” Samson grinned and as a reward he briefly relaxed those dominating pecs. “Now, where were we? You made me lose count.” He released Horn but immediately pulse flexed his pecs, hurling the stunned bodybuilder across the ring into the ropes yet again, then bolted after him. The ropes stretched to an an almost cartoonish degree as the sheer power of Samson’s flexing chest drove Horn’s body into them with such force that the turnbuckles groaned with the strain. Unfortunately for Horn, the ring held together and the ropes snapped back, whipping him violently back toward center ring. He could see Samson sprint to a stop, halting his hugely muscled frame on a dime at the edge of the ring with a frightening degree of controlled athleticism for such a massive man. Clasping his hands behind his waist, Samson arched his back and presented those massive pecs as he waited for the impact of the hapless bodybuilder against them, a devilish smirk on his face just barely visible over the huge muscular display. “NO!” Pleaded the world renowned bodybuilder in the split second before, with practiced precision, Samson flexed into Horn’s impact. The thick torsos of the two men slammed together. Horn’s pecs slammed into Samson’s, flattening against the wrestler’s thicker, broader chest muscles which were expanding toward him. That explosive muscular expansion hammered Horn through the air like a baseball being blasted off the bat of a hall of fame slugger. Grinning, Samson alternately flexed each pec in an intimidating, rapid fire display as he watched the terrified, barely conscious bodybuilder ricochet off the ropes and hurtle back toward him. Samson bounced the Multiple Olympia title winner until Horn began to lose consciousness. "Gotta say Matt, I'm a little disappointed here." Samson sighed, as the repeated impacts of Horn against his unyielding pecs failed to even register as perturbations in his voice. "Didn't think I would have you this out-manned." Samson stopped bouncing his pecs, then with a big grin, flexed into a double biceps pose as Horn thudded to a stop against his chest and then crashed to the mat in front of him like a collapsing building. "Ohhhh!" groaned the announcer as he vicariously absorbed the punishment that Horn was receiving. You couldn't hear anything in that arena because of the sonic boom roar from the crowd and Samson's name being called out from every corner. The announcer tried to shout a commentary over the pandemonium but failing to be amplified over the thunderous ovation, gave up. Fans were even posing in a mock-Samson pose in the stands as well as giving Samson the applause of his life. Horn, meanwhile, breathed in the grit of the canvas as his face was ground into the mat from his massive frame crashing down. He couldn’t believe the power of Samson. Horn was arguably the most muscular bodybuilder on the planet, but Samson had pummeled him senseless just by flexing. As if to confirm his muscular superiority, Samson was hitting a flawless side-biceps pose as the ref ran around the ring pushing photographers away who had climbed up on the ring apron. Horn manage to sit up. Samson noticed and decided that he’d had enough posing. He moved to Horn and reached down for a handful of Horn's hair which he used as a handle to raise his dazed opponent to his feet. Horn returned his gaze with an open mouth and glassy eyes. “You’re tougher than I thought.” Releasing his hair, Samson held Horn’s eyes with a confident glare as the bodybuilder swayed unsteadily on his feet. Samson bounced the pecs he’d just used to devastate the big bodybuilder. “What I just did to you by bouncing these big boys was just a warm up, though. Ready for the main event?” Samson struck that unmatchable double biceps pose he was famous for. Horn swooned as those biceps towered over him. His eyes rolled back and his trembling body crashed back to the mat, his face eating dust again. Samson turned to the audience, giving them the best possible view of his unmatchable guns. “Guess I got too much muscle for the muscleman, huh.” He flashed a white-toothed grin as the crowd roared anew. The ref took to the center ring with his mic, trying to restore order. "I think Horn has had it, ladies and gentleman. Samson has, so far, out-muscled and out-gunned Horn!", shouted the announcer, relieved at being heard again over the din. "I've never seen Horn look like that! Samson is just too much for him!" The fans were in agreement as they shouted in approval. Samson agreed as well, and he continued flexing for the cheering crowd. Horn was showing signs of consciousness again. Again, Samson assisted the groggy Horn to his feet wasting no time, he sent him careening into the ropes. Planting his feet squarely in the center of the ring as he’d done when bouncing the muscleman off his pecs earlier, he waited as Horn rebounded. This time Samson raised his thick 26" gun, flexed quickly, then charged the oncoming Horn. The massive Samson arm clotheslined Horn and he flipped him into the air where he spun through 360 degrees! Samson kept his arm in the clothesline position and Horn fell from the air to land, draped across it with the giant biceps peak driving into his gut. Samson bent his arm at the elbow and flexed. In defense, Horn flexed his abdomen against the motion, abs against biceps. Biceps won. As his overmatched abs collapsed, Horn feared he was about to be snapped in half by Samson’s bulging arm. But Samson whipped the gasping man around into a bearhug. As he’d done with his abs, Horn desperately flexed his pecs against Samson’s chest to defend against their crushing mass. Samson smirked at Horn’s puny effort. He slowly increased the flexing of his unstoppable pecs as he spoke. “We already know you don’t stand a chance against a real man’s chest, don’t we runt?” Samson’s point was reinforced by the relentless way his bulging pecs were flattening Horn’s chest, considered one of the greatest in the sport of bodybuilding, but totally outclassed by the mighty wrestler. “I said ‘don’t we runt’!” Samson shouted, ramping up the bulging expansion of his pecs. Horn felt his torso being deformed painfully as it conformed to the rock-hard curves of Samson’s burgeoning chest. “Y-yes,” gurgled Horn. “please...y-your chest. Can’t...breath…” Samson laughed. “Well, well, well. I guess it’s time for the best chest in bodybuilding, to say hi to the best biceps in wrestling.” Relaxing his mighty flexing pecs, the wrestler rotated the bodybuilder in his bearhug so that Samson’s right biceps was bulging directly against the center of Horn’s battered pecs. “Flex ‘em up, boy.” Samson goaded as he began to tense his right biceps against Horn’s chest. “But your b-biceps, I...I can’t win.” Duval virtually groveled. “You're...too much…” But he flexed down as hard as he ever had in his life, afraid of defying Samson’s command. His thick pecs bunched up into a rock-hard shield against the slowly flexing peak of Samson’s impossibly massive right biceps. “Tell ya what, wimp, I’m gonna give you a fighting chance here. Not gonna squeeze ya, just gonna drive my fist into my palm and flex. All you gotta do is contend with a little bit of bulging from the flexing of my biceps.” Horn gulped with something like relief as he felt Samson’s bearhug go slack. With a glimmer of hope, he flexed his chest even harder, maybe he could still show Samson what a world class bodybuilder was made of. Neither the relief nor the hope lasted very long. Samson tensed both biceps and Horn’s eyes opened wide in sheer awe. The wrestler’s left biceps expanded at his back. It felt like being pressed against a giant unyielding anvil. The hammer was Samson’s massively peaked right biceps. The iron of Horn’s desperately flexing pecs was overwhelmed instantly. Horn managed a desperate, breathless groan of pain as he was slowly crushed between those impossibly hard, huge biceps. “What’s the matter Matt? Stuck between a rock…” Somehow Samson flexed his guns even larger, “...and a hard place?” Horn felt his ribs all but fracture, but he couldn’t make a sound at this point. As Horn began to pass out, Samson relented. “Yeah! Biceps win, huh, Matt?” He cradled the swooning bodybuilder in his left arm as he flexed up his right in a single biceps pose. He then draped Horn over his flexing arm again and began to pulse flex the giant muscle up and down. Horn’s entire body rose and fell along with Samson’s flexes. Samson noted Horn’s silence. “What, not convinced? You wanna try again?” The idea of that terrified the gasping bodybuilder. He shook his head desperately and finally managed to speak. “Buh-Biceps...w-win.” He concurred. “Biceps...win.” He repeated to make absolutely sure his surrender was understood. “YEAH they do.” Samson crowed, nodding his head. He seemed to be saying "Oh, I’m not through toying with this wimp." Plucking Horn From his flexing biceps, he slung the huge man over his shoulder and then pressed him overhead, using the massive bodybuilder like an exercise barbell, Samson pumped him up and down with absolute ease. Manhandling Horn’s mass with no sign of strain, Samson brought the bodybuilding champion around in front of his chest and, maintaining his grips at Horn’s left knee joint and neck, Samson started curling him for rep after rep. Samson never showed the slightest sign of slowing or tiring, but the motion alone was enough to make his 26 inch biceps pump up to their unbelievable max. Samson seemed to grow frustrated with the lack of challenge presented by curling Horn like an oversized dumbbell. “C’mon Matt, you need to put on some real muscle. It’s like curling with a toothpick .” Samson hoisted Horn high overhead with one arm and then slammed him bodily to the mat like a discarded paper cup. The impact bounced the ref off the canvas. He managed to come down on his feet but he had to steady himself on the ropes. Samson scooped up Horn like a ragdoll. He wedged the struggling man’s head between his left biceps and forearm, then climbed to the second rope at one corner of the ring. Samson stood balancing against the top rope and suspended Horn over the crowd by hitting a single biceps pose and dangling the muscleman with his head still trapped by that flexing biceps. Horn clawed at Samsons steely arm, trying to free his head as his feet flailed in the air. “Aww, that big mean ole muscle too hard on your poor noggin?” Samson teased. He grabbed Horn by the neck and held the man high, showing him off like a trophy. When the cheering this induced died down, the wrestler flexed his mighty right biceps once again. The crowd cheered more. They never seemed to get enough of those god-like arms. Then Samson folded Horn almost gently over his flexed arm. With a mighty grunt of effort he flexed his right biceps with such speed and power that the explosively expanding muscle catapulted the defeated bodybuilder high into the air. Laughing, Samson watched Horn fall back toward him. He flexed up his left biceps and twisted at the waist so that Horn crashed back down onto that mass of bulging muscle. “Gotcha!” Samson called out as Horn’s big frame slammed into the even bigger muscle, where the bodybuilder once again lay limp, folded over the wrestlers arm. The feat stunned the crowd to silence. It didn’t seem possible to be so far above other men in sheer size and strength. There was a single sound that could be heard in the awed silence. “No...m-more.” Pleaded Horn as he slapped weakly at the wrestler’s huge biceps. “S-someone...someone...help me.” Samson laughed. “Who’s gonna help you, runt? One of yer muscleman pals?” The wrestler flexed his left biceps again with unimaginable speed and force. The bodybuilder was hurled high again almost to the ceiling of the facility before plummeting back down to thump bodily against the wrestlers insanely powerful flexing right biceps. “Bring ‘em on, I say. The more the merrier.” They watched in awe as Samson flexed again and again, bouncing an Olympia worthy bodybuilder from one mighty biceps to the other like a child toying with a rubber ball. “Might be fun pumpin’ these big ole biceps like this, only juggling you and Priest and Wheeler and Yates. HAW HAW, now THAT might even be a challenge. See how many of you Olympia types I can keep in the air at once.” At this point the crowd was actually starting to flee the arena out of fear. The ref was watching Horn bounce off Samson’s biceps repeatedly in a stunned trance, oblivious to the pleading, half conscious looks the helpless bodybuilder managed to affect after each impact with one of those omnipotent muscles just before being heaved skyward to new heights by the next unstoppable flex. Finally, Horn slammed into the multi story high roof of the arena after one of Samson’s phenomenal biceps flexes. “Oops.” said Samson with an almost sheepish grin. “As tempting as blasting you through the roof might be,” Samson explained as Horn’s huge but limp body slammed back down onto his massively peaked left biceps. “the owner is a pal of mine.” “P-please…” Horn managed, gasping for breath. “I’ll do...anything. Just...no more.” Samson laughed, flexing his left biceps larger and sending Horn higher. “I think it’s safe to say that I got the muscle to make you do what I want, with or without your cooperation.” He reached with his free arm and grabbed Horn, wrapping a thick, powerful hand around the traumatized bodybuilder’s neck and lifting him off that mountainous biceps. Samson wrapped his arms around Horn and pulled him against his bulging chest. “So your offer don't mean much, does it?” Horn was in no position to argue the point. At his back, forearms like sequoia pinned him against the impossibly huge, muscular expanse that was Samson’s pecs, while on either side of him, like massive planets poised to collide, the wrestler’s gargantuan biceps threatened to pulp him between them with the merest flex. “Please.” Horn pleaded, gasping. He was aware of his powerfully developed chest rising and falling as he struggled to catch his breath. The mere sight of this never failed to elicit slack-jawed stares of awe in the gym after an intense session. But against Samson’s vastly thicker, denser pecs, his frantically heaving chest was like the beating of butterfly wings against the steel hull of a battleship. “Your muscles...you’re super...human. I never...had a chance.” Samson tensed his pecs ever so slightly. Horn’s body was compressed between those two burgeoning slabs of muscle. “Guess you shouldn’t have challenged me then, huh muscleboy?” Horn struggled futilely to free himself, but Samson responded to the big bodybuilder’s efforts by flexing those awesome pecs to such massive proportions that Horn’s entire torso began to be wedged into the cleavage between them. “NO! God no! I'm...stuck between...you gotta stop.” Horn pounded futilely against the surging, titanic slabs of muscle that were Samson’s unstoppable pecs. “You...can’t keep flexing bigger...you’ll flatten me!” Laughing, Samson released the bearhug and placed his hands on his hips, holding Horn in place between his pecs with nothing more than the crushing force of his flexing chest. “Flatten you? Such a drama queen for one of the mightiest pro muscle dudes on the planet.” Samson grinned wickedly as he continued flexing those mountainous pecs slowly larger. “
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  16. Frosty and Nick get frisky in the snow, then take the action inside so Nick can try some of Frosty's fresh egg nog! Chapter 3: Nick walked up to him, staring at the huge man in awe. Frosty was thicker, broader, fatter, and more muscular than ever and had to be pushing nine feet tall. “Frosty, you’re… you’re really strong!” Nick blurted, unsure of what else to say. “Yeah, I am, huh?” Frosty said with a grin and he put his two huge fists together and flexed his chest and arms. “Feels pretty good to be the biggest and strongest! Makes it all the easier to make this the best Christmas EVER!” Frosty then sat down in the snow, his body bulking up suddenly with more thick muscle as his body absorbed the snow. He was about eye-level with Nick again. He rubbed his hand against his spikey Mohawk and grinned. Frost reached up and waved his hand, and a swirl of ice formed and coalesced into a perfect crystalline mistletoe. He held it up over his head and grinned at Nick. “I’m standing under the mistletoe…” Frosty said in a cute, sing-songy voice. Nick stepped in between Frosty’s huge legs and he leaned in for a kiss. Frosty tasted incredible, a kaleidoscope of Christmas flavors swirling in his mouth, like a candy cane, gingerbread, fresh snow, and powdered sugar all at once. Frosty reached up with his hand and gripped the back of Nick’s head, wrapping all the way around Nick’s skull as he pulled the little man in closer. They made out aggressively, rubbing their beards against each other, tongues wrestling, pushing against each other. Nick reached up and let his hands freely explore Frosty’s enormous body, feeling the impossibly large chest, bowling ball shoulders, huge thick traps. He tugged at the big man’s harness and pulled Frosty closer, and Frosty chuckled; they both knew Frosty was exponentially stronger than Nick, but he let Nick feel like he was in control. They separated for a moment so Nick could catch his breath. “I’ve…I can’t believe this is happening,” Nick said, gasping for air. “You’re so perfect!” he said as he reached over to Frosty’s massive upper arms and squeezed, feeling the hard, thick muscles. Frosty flexed and enjoyed Nick’s shocked reaction as he felt Frosty’s impossibly huge, strong biceps grow. “Hehe, so are you, my little saint Nick,” Frosty said as he reached under Nick’s arms and lifted him up. Frosty fell onto his back, carrying Nick until they were on the ground. Frosty absorbed a huge pile of snow as he laid down. “Did you feel that?” Frosty said as he stretched to his new, bigger size. “Did you feel me growing? I love it!” “Oh yeah, fuck,” Nick breathed as he sat up on Frosty’s perfect round gut. He leaned against Frosty’s chest and watched Frosty grow underneath him, the harness always growing with his swelling body. “How much bigger do you want to get?” Nick asked, eager for more, pressing against Frosty’s huge pecs. Frosty shrugged, his giant traps engulfing his neck and pressing against his ears. “I don’t know. Big enough to never melt again! Big enough to spread Christmas all over the world!” he boomed and raised his hands into the sky, shooting a burst of frost into the air and started falling down around them like powder. As he said that, Nick could feel something huge and cold poking against his back. Frosty’s massive cock was almost two feet long now and as thick as Nick’s forearm. “Holy shit!” Nick breathed as he rotated around to face the huge cock. “Yeah,” Frosty groaned and spread out his arms and legs into the snow, making a huge snow angel. “All this growing has got me going. Wanna help me out with that, little saint Nick?” he purred and brought his arms together, packing more snow against the sides of his body, triggering another surge of growth. His cock pulsed and grew thicker, harder, and fatter, the slit leaking pre. “I think you’ll love how it tastes,” “Oh yeah,” Nick groaned as he turned fully. He took off his jacket and threw it aside and gripped the enormous dick with both hands, squeezing it hard and rubbing it up and down. He leaned forward to lick the huge cock head – it was too big for his mouth already – and slurped up the precum. The taste was sweet and intoxicating, and Nick wanted more. “Oh fuck, yeah little buddy, go for it,” Frosty groaned as he kept pulling more and more snow into his growing body, spreading his arms and legs out as far as he could, then sweeping more snow back in. Each time he grew and grew, expanding taller, thicker, wider, longer, reaching out for more snow every time. “I’m growing more, Nick, just like that huge cock you’re working,” Frosty growled. “You want me to grow bigger, huh?” Nick answered by licking and rubbing more vigorously, spreading Frosty’s ice-cold precum all over his face and beard, gripping the huge cock as hard as he could but unable to dent the ice-hard pole. He could feel the big snowman growing underneath him. “Yeah, big Frosty is gonna be giant-size soon, just you wait,” Frosty rumbled, his cock twitching and pulsing as he got ready to shoot. Nick’s mouth was stretched to the max, and he sucked and slurped and flicked the giant, cold cock as hard as he could, like he was eating the biggest popsicle he’d ever seen. Nick came up for air and breathed hard, a plume of steam rising from his mouth. He shivered against Frosty, suddenly realizing how cold he was. Frosty’s cock throbbed and smacked against Nick’s cheek, smearing icy pre cum on his face, and they both chuckled. “Getting cold, little guy?” Frosty rumbled, reaching a hand up to rub Nick’s back. His big paw spread across most of Nick’s back. “We can go inside and take care of this there, if you want,” he said, his big breaths making Nick rise up and down on his belly. “S-sure,” Nick said, his teeth chattering a big. Between the cold air and Frosty’s icy body, he was indeed cold. Frosty hooked his hands under Nick’s arms and effortlessly lifted him into the air as he rose to full height. Frosty set Nick down, and Nick realized he only came up to Frosty’s belly button. Frosty’s red cock swelled and throbbed as Frosty saw how much bigger and taller he was than Nick now. “Aww shit, you’re so little now, bud,” Frosty said. He stepped forward and his big dick bumped against Nick roughly. “Let’s go inside,” he rumbled breathlessly. Nick looked up at the giant snowman in awe. Frosty stretched his new muscles, popping his thick neck and shoulders, tensing his pecs and shaking out his massive quads. Nick could hear a crunching sound, like snow packing together, as Frosty’s huge body adjusted to his new size. Nick led the way back to the door, Frosty’s big steps rumbling behind him. They encountered a problem when they got to the door though. “Uh, little saint Nick, I’m not sure I’m gonna fit,” Frosty rumbled. The top of the door frame only came up to his chest, and he was clearly wider than door itself. “Well, uh, hmm,” Nick said as he opened the door and went inside. He opened it all the way and looked around, but there wasn’t really anything to be done. He looked back outside, a wall of thick, pale muscle taking up every inch of the doorway, centered by a massive, inpatient-looking cock. “Can you try squeezing through?” Nick asked. “I’ll… I’ll try!” Frosty said, more determined now. He bent his knees and turned sideways, then reached one big arm through the doorway. He stooped down, but still bumped his head against the frame with a crack. Nick flinched. “Oof, heh, now I know how Santa feels!” Frosty chuckled as he managed to crane his head and neck through the doorway, his big shoulder coming through. His barrel chest, huge ass, and round belly presented the next problems as they both scraped against the frame of the door. “Come on, chubby, suck it in!” Nick laughed. “When I get in here… you’re gonna get it for that!” Frosty growled with a grin as he finally pushed his gut through with an “oof!”. Finally, Frosty was able to shimmy the rest of himself through the tiny door and into the house. He had just been inside minutes ago, but it all suddenly seemed far too small for the big snowman. “Everything is so small in here now! Heh, they don’t make houses for big guys like them,” Frosty said as he straightened to his full height. His spikey Mohawk scraped against the ceiling, and Frosty grinned as plaster fell down around him. “Now then, where were we!” Frosty boomed, his massive cock thickening harder, big around as Nick’s wrist and about as long. He stepped closer to Nick, and Nick realized he could reach Frosty’s enormous cock with his mouth without having to kneel down. He hardly had to bend his nick. “Oh fuck yeah,” Nick breathed as he gripped Frosty’s pole and opened his mouth as wide as he could to slurp up the red, leaking head. “YEAH Nick, take it,” Frosty grunted. He put his hand on Nick’s head and held the smaller man there, feeling about half of his cock fit into the little guy’s mouth. “You liked seeing me grow?” Nick just moaned and nodded his head up and down, the motion sending shivers up Frosty’s spine. “Yeah, I knew you would. You like big guys, huh? Bigger the better? Well I’m the BIGGEST. And guess what, little elf? You’re gonna see me grow even MORE!” Frosty growled, getting into it, dreaming of growing more and getting off on the idea of packing on more muscle. Nick frantically reached down to stroke his own cock while Frosty held his head in place, thrusting against Nick’s tight lips, his huge glutes flexing as he did, his massive round gut smooshing against Nick’s forehead. “I’m so much bigger than you already, Nick, damn you’re just gonna be a little snowflake eventually, huh?” Frosty groaned as he felt the cum welling up in his hefty balls. “Oh yeah boy, take my cum!” Frosty grunted and then roared, cream erupting from his cock like a hose, spraying ice-cold jets of it into Nick’s waiting mouth. It got all over Nick’s pants, shirt, and face as he dribbled from his lips. It was unbelievably delicious, like candy and cookies and milky winter cocktails, and Nick tried guzzling as much of it as he could. It didn’t just taste good but made Nick feel emotions he never thought possible, perfect holiday bliss and contentment radiating through his body. “Tastes like Christmas, doesn’t it?” Frosty boomed as a shiver of pleasure rippled through his icy body and frost spread out from underneath him, extending along the ground to frost the entire entryway of the house.
    1 point
  17. Enhancements: Part Ten Conversion Eddie went over to the computer, where he grabbed an iPad from the drawer below and used it to the dim the room lights. The TV across from me began displaying still images of men from gay porn, all kinds of body types and ethnicities, posing to the camera. Most were naked; a few were wearing fetish gear like the harness Eddie had on, or a jockstrap. Some looked seductive and playful, others aggressive and dominating. I was pretty enraptured with them, even though none of them were actually engaging in sex. Is this what I was going to become? My cock continued to twitch, but I could tell it was still from the hormones and not because of what I was seeing. Eddie came over and lifted my shirt off my body, undoing the arm shackles briefly to do so. “Afraid I’ll run off?” I asked. “Not just yet,” Eddie explained. “But it’s important we see this through to the end, and some patients have been known to be difficult.” He next removed my jeans, leaving me in just my gray boxer briefs, my cock now forming a bit of a tent. “Oh Trevor, those won’t do,” Eddie chided me. He scurried around the room, attached a couple of wires and sticky pads to my pecs, temples, and thighs, and then opened a cabinet and pulled out a fistful of cloth. ”Look, if you want to wear those to work everyday, that’s one thing. But today, for your new life as a gay man, you need to look and feel sexy, and the first way we’re going to do that, is with these!” He held out four pairs of underwear, each one more colorful and skimpy looking than the last. “Well, cmon future stud, pick one out!” I glanced at my options: first, a simple jock with a white pouch and gray waistband. Too boring, even for me. Next, a pair of purple briefs, which I could tell had a super thin cut that I would barely fit into. Third was a weird looking thong, which seemed like it would be too uncomfortable... which left me with, great, another jockstrap, this time with a glittery gold pouch and thin-as-fuck straps. “I’ll take that one, I guess,” I said, motioning to my new glitzy prison. ”Ooh, perfect,” said Eddie, who I craned my neck to see quickly popping a pill in the background. “Ok big Trev, we’ll get you into that new sexy jock in a second, but first I think we’ve got a big problem that needs to be answered.” He motioned to my poor strained boxer briefs, my cock struggling for freedom. Eddie pulled them off and squirted some lube in his palm. My 5” cock was free now, rock hard and throbbing with pleasure. I was so horny, I thought, but I wasn’t sure why. Sure, I was excited about all the kinky shit I was going to get up to, but when I thought about it, I couldn’t even name one gay thing I actually wanted to do. Eddie took his lubed palm to my cock, and I wanted to ask if I could just do it myself, but I left it alone and let him stroke a little. He lubed up my cock with his warm hand. “Oh yeah, you’ve got a big piece here Trevor,” he intoned. He loosened my wrist straps and me start jerking myself, then handed me the iPad. “Why don’t you pick what you wanna watch,” he said, “and maybe I should join you?” He pulled a chair over to the side of the TV and sat down just in my line of sight but without blocking the TV, and pulled down his jean shorts, revealing his full black and blue CellBlock 13 jockstrap held up by a matching harness. He stroke his package a little then pulled his cock out to the side and started stroking it, facing me and giving me a seductive glare. His cock was bigger than mine: maybe 7” long, and thick. It looked good, I thought, then remembered I was supposed to choose a porno. Down at the iPad there was a selection of about 9 movies to choose from and the large header “Stage 1”. Most of them featured women pretty predominantly but still had a guy taking up nearly half the thumbnail. I selected the movie and went to town. I split my attention between Eddie and the movie, but I found myself more and more curious to see how he jerked off. The thought of seeing how another guy does this was super hot, I thought. Eddie stoked slowly and methodically, rubbing his chest with his left hand and occasionally letting out a deep moan of pleasure. His whole body undulated with pleasure, compared to my frantic jerking off. Eventually, my eyes met his and stayed there. ”You never jerked off with another guy before, eh Trevor?” Before I could answer, he continued. “But still, I don’t think I could really consider this jerking off... together.” Eddie stood up, still stroking slowly, and came towards me. I ignored whatever the fuck was going on with the TV; I wanted to know what Eddie would do next. He slinked over to me, eventually reaching my side, and started giving me a kind of lap dance while I stoked. His body was really hot, I thought, and when he turned and let his strapped ass graze my shaft, I felt myself slip into a new level of horniness I thought was impossible. I stoked harder and harder, and eventually Eddie turned around and pressed his cock up against mine, the two shafts joined together with an impressive heat. He stoked them both for a little while, then stepped back. “Time for me to cum,” he said, breathing heavier. He turned away to face away from me, and I wanted to tell him to turn back, that I didn’t care if it got on me - that maybe I even wanted to get it on me - but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Eddie roared and let out a jet of cum - which I couldn’t really see - and in the glow of Eddie’s ass I felt myself ready to explode. I let out a jet of cum all over my chest, moaning hard in the process. After a few moments of quiet, Eddie readjusted his now soft cock back into its pouch, turned off the now annoying porn movie, wiped the cum off my chest, and helped me pull the gold jockstrap up to my waist. ”Now that was quite the start,” I breathed. ”You’ve got a long way to go, stud. How’d you feel in that jock?” Truthfully, I felt a little adventurous now. What had been trepidation about having to wear this skimpy underwear turned into genuine excitement. “I feel hot,” I said. I don’t know if I had ever “felt hot” before, but I did now. ”Good boy,” Eddie answered, now glancing at an iPad with my vitals. The slideshow of men had resumed, but now there were more images of multiple men together, occasionally embracing or kissing or about to give a blow job. ”So, according to your questionnaire, you’ve never given or gotten a guy head before. You ever gotten head from a girl? Did you like it?” I had, and I did. It was after my senior prom, I think. Eddie moved around the room as I heard a door in the back open and close. “The thing is, girls don’t love to suck cock like gay guys do.” I heard two pairs of footsteps behind me now, as Eddie and someone else moved to the front of the room. I felt my cock hardening in my gold jock. ”They just don’t crave it, like I do.” The new guy came into view: he was tall, dark skinned, and fully naked, with a huge 8.5” cock. Eddie motioned for me to get up, as the new guy took my place in the chair. Eddie knelt down and started servicing the guy, licking the length of his huge shaft. He paused and turned to me, “they don’t crave it like you do.” Eddie continued his blow job, licking the guy’s balls and playing with his enormous cock with ease. It just looked... fun. Something about that dick... I wanted it. I knelt down next to Eddie and thrust my face into the tall guy’s crotch, joining Eddie in his fun. We took turns sucking and slurping on the huge hunk of man meat, stopping here and there to share a wet kiss. Eventually, Eddie took the huge cock into his mouth proper, sucking and gagging himself on the length. A few minutes later, he stopped, and passed it over to me. I thrust the big dick into my mouth and started sucking. With each minute, I felt my throat expand to accept more and more of it into my mouth. My own cock hardened and formed a tent in my gold jock as I moved my mouth further and further down the length of the cock with each pulse. Eddie started stroking himself as he watched me give my first blowjob. I wondered if he wanted a turn again, but I didn’t really care. I wanted it now, and I didn’t want to give it up. Eventually, the tall guy stood up and moved to the right of the chair. I sat in the chair in his place and turned over to continue sucking him, as he now put his hand on the back of my hand to get forceful with me. Meanwhile, Eddie pulled my jock off and took my own cock into his mouth. I had gotten head from a girl before, but this was on a completely new level. Eddie went to town on my cock: sucking and gagging himself with it like it was the air he needed to breathe. I felt the swirling warmth of his tongue on every surface of my dick; it was true, he really did crave it. Turning back to the tall guy, I redoubled my own servicing, taking his shaft even further than before. I closed my eyes and focused on the sensations of having Eddie suck me off while I had this guy’s huge tool in my throat, gagging me. I truly couldn’t get enough, almost mad that I wasn’t able to suck him for longer without taking a breather. Soon, Eddie stopped and stood up as the tall guy scooted over in the chair for him to join. Eddie sat down next to him as I stopped sucking to watch. He put an arm around the new guy, and another guy on his chest as the two started to passionately make out. This was fucking incredible, seeing two studly men kissing each other passionately, their cocks throbbing, struggling to push the limits of their size and hardness. Their bodies, each covered with a healthy serving of black hair at the chest, abdomen, and armpits, slick with sweat and lightly smelling of an usual musky odor. To say I was in awe was an understatement: I was almost in a trance at the beauty and power of these two men. Was the “process” done? Was I fully converted now? Lightly tugging on my cock, Eddie pulled away from his kiss to command me. “I know you like this, boy, but you’ve got a job to do. And a reward to get.” He reached out to pull me back into his crotch, then slapped his dick against my face aggressively, forcing it near my mouth. The sheer weight of his meat felt extremely erotic, and I returned to sucking, now alternating cocks and attempting to do anything I could to rub them both in my face. It didn’t take long for the two guys to reach climax. I had my mouth firmly around the tall guy’s enormous cock when I started to feel him pulse and stretch my mouth even further. He moaned, loudly, as I felt a surge of hot cum fill my mouth and throat. I could barely process the taste before I became overwhelmed by the sheer volume of cum that this man was pumping into me, eventually needing to let go and feel the rest of his load splatter off my cheek and down to my chest. I started stroking myself furiously, and Eddie also began to climax. “Fuck yeah, take it,” he roared. “I love when a new gay boy gets his first load!” I sort of expected Eddie’s cumshot to be a little tamer, given that he jerked off with me before, but I was very wrong. Spurt after spurt of magnificent jizz landed on my face and chest, coating me with Eddie’s seed. Each new blast felt like a badge of merit for me, the newly minted gay boy. Not long after, I let out my own load, spraying cum on myself and the floor. Eddie helped me up and gave me a little kiss, licking some of the cum off my face in the process. He and the other guy walked to the back of the room to leave as I followed them out. “Fuck, or feels good to be converted,” I said, wondering who I could find next to have fun with. ”Not so fast,” Eddie cautioned. “You’ve still got a little bit left,” he said. “Wait here for a bit, then the real fun can begin.” The door shut behind them on their way out, leaving me basking in my new found sexuality, wondering what might come next.
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  18. Chapter Five But, of course dear reader, you have no idea what this robbery was like do you? Then let me explain and to do that, we leave the Reform Club and head to Scotland Yard, home of the Metropolitan Police, that fine institution whose members were always on call and ready to do their duty. Because of the seriousness of this case, their Commissioner Rowan was leading the investigation and was even now talking to one of the witnesses, a poor man by the name of Jenkins who was nursing a large bump on his head and as he explained why to the Commissioner, the Commissioner paced the room formulating his theories. “So” he said, “a gentleman snuck up on you from behind and hit you on the head with his cane?” and as if to demonstrate the cowardly action, hit himself on the head which caused him to howl in pain. “Yes” replied Jenkins, concerned that the Commissioner might have hurt himself, “just as you say!” Taking this information on board, the Commissioner resumed his pacing and said “So, let me see if I understand you correctly. At five minutes to five o’clock in the afternoon, three days ago, you placed a pile of notes to the value of fifty-five thousand pounds on the principal cashier’s table with the intent of placing them in the vault when a gentleman came up to you, hit you over the head with his cane and caused you to black out?” As Jenkins held his head to protect it from the roars of the Commissioner, he nodded in agreement. “Right then” said the Commissioner, rubbing his chin, “I understand the situation perfectly!” “The idea that a gentleman could be a robber” said Jenkins, “in this day and age. It beggars belief, sir!” Taking pity on the poor clerk, the Commissioner smiled and said “You can’t judge a book by its…” and then paused as he tried to think of how the proverb ended, “…lining, no, that’s not right. Cover, unlikely” and then he snapped his fingers and declared “You can’t judge a book by its index, Jenkins!” “Please, sir” said Jenkins, “you have got to catch this man. I dare not show my face in the bank again. You know what a temper Mr. Sullivan has. He is convinced that it is all my fault. He might even…” and he gulped as he said “…sack me!” Just then, the door to the Commissioner’s office burst open and in ran a police constable in plain clothes saying “Sir, Sir!” but he was pulled back by his colleague. The first man to enter was Constable Drummond, a man described by his fellow constables as "Bully" not because, as you might guess he was an expert at getting bullseyes in any game of darts that he played down the pub, although he was, but because of all the constables on the force, he was by far the strongest, indeed he was so strong that he was feared by the criminal underclass of London as "The Bull and the Inspector", sadly however whilst he was endowed with strength, the same could not be said of his mind and many people wondered how the inspector, a gentleman of distinguished tastes, ever came to be partnered with him. As the inspector took the pipe out of his mouth and announced “We have the artist’s impression of the robber!” and he placed a collection of pictures on the table and was congratulated by the Commissioner who handed them to Jenkins and asked him if any of the pictures looked familiar. As Jenkins thumbed through them he picked one out and said “I recognise this gentleman” and handed it to the Commissioner who, without looking at it, showed it to the two men who had entered. "Gentlemen" he announced, "I want you to find this man instantly and bring him in for questioning!” “Sir!” replied the constable scratching his head, “do you really mean that?" “What do you mean?” bellowed the Commissioner, “Are you not members of Scotland Yard?” “We are, sir!” replied the inspector, “but we can hardly question you, can we?” As the Commissioner turned the picture around he gasped. There in his hand was a picture of him and as he demanded to know where it came from Jenkins noted, “It’s a good likeness!” which prompted the Commissioner to tear the picture up into shreds. As he did Jenkins suddenly declared “That’s him. That’s the man who knocked me over the head!” and picked up another picture and handed it to the Inspector. “That is Mr. Phileas Fogg” replied the Inspector demonstrating why he and Drummond were complete opposites, “He lives at number seven Saville Row, is a member of the Reform Club and if my sources are correct has recently employed a new manservant” “Then find him!” bellowed the Commissioner and added as the two men left, “If you bungle this case up, then you’re both be demoted to the ranks” but as the constable raised a hand, the Commissioner shouted “and that means mucking out the horses of the mounted division for you, Drummond!” “Sir, yes, sir!” they both saluted and with that left the Commissioner’s office.
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  19. All stories by Londonboy, our most prolific author on the story archive: AUTHOR TITLE STORY_LOCATION_URL Londonboy A Big Helping Hand https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23465-p1.html Londonboy A Muscle Daddy Built to Order https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/28659-p1.html Londonboy A Muscle Daddy Built to Order - The Final Vial https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/66746-p1.html Londonboy A Muscle Daddy Built to Order - Vial 2 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/32136-p1.html Londonboy A Muscle Daddy Built to Order - Vial 5 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/33620-p1.html Londonboy A Muscle Daddy Built to Order - Vial 6 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/35947-p1.html Londonboy A Muscle Daddy Built to Order - Vials 3 and 4 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/33107-p1.html Londonboy A Muscle Love Story https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23420-p1.html Londonboy A Prowling Muscle Master https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/42690-p1.html Londonboy A Prowling Muscle Master - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/44304-p1.html Londonboy Aged Beef https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/66970-p1.html Londonboy Aged Beef - Finale https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/67087-p1.html Londonboy Aged Beef - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/67063-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6445-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London - Part 10 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6665-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London - Part 11 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6803-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London - Part 12 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6820-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London - Part 13 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6857-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London - Part 14 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/7463-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London - Part 15 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/7835-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London - Part 16 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/8154-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman In London - Part 17 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/11570-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman In London - Part 18 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/11615-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman In London - Part 19 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/11684-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London - Part 2 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6466-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London - Part 20 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23852-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London - Part 21 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/32411-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London - Part 3 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6479-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London - Part 4 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6491-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London - Part 5 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6507-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London - Part 6 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6521-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London - Part 7 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6577-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London - Part 8 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6615-p1.html Londonboy An American Muscleman in London - Part 9 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6653-p1.html Londonboy Awakening the Shy Muscleman https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/16549-p1.html Londonboy Awakening the Shy Muscleman - Conclusion https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/16756-p1.html Londonboy Awakening the Shy Muscleman 2 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/16631-p1.html Londonboy Awakening the Shy Muscleman 3 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/16639-p1.html Londonboy Awakening the Shy Muscleman 4 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/16651-p1.html Londonboy Beauty and the Bear https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/28460-p1.html Londonboy Best Freinds - Part 2 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6423-p1.html Londonboy Best Friends https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6421-p1.html Londonboy Best Friends - Part 10 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6475-p1.html Londonboy Best Friends - Part 11 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6640-p1.html Londonboy Best Friends - Part 12 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6709-p1.html Londonboy Best Friends - Part 13 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6777-p1.html Londonboy Best Friends - Part 14 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/9816-p1.html Londonboy Best Friends - Part 3 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6429-p1.html Londonboy Best Friends - Part 4 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6433-p1.html Londonboy Best Friends - Part 5 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6437-p1.html Londonboy Best Friends - Part 6 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6439-p1.html Londonboy Best Friends - Part 7 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6452-p1.html Londonboy Best Friends - Part 8 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6458-p1.html Londonboy Best Friends - Part 9 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6468-p1.html Londonboy Big Man and Pretty Boy https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/67557-p1.html Londonboy Bigger Bro https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27473-p1.html Londonboy Birthday Wishes, Part One https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/10331-p1.html Londonboy Birthday Wishes, Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/10356-p1.html Londonboy Bromance https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/24718-p1.html Londonboy Bromance - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27871-p1.html Londonboy Caleb's Big Problem - One https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/10456-p1.html Londonboy Careful What You Wish For https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/68052-p1.html Londonboy Changed for Good https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/7996-p1.html Londonboy Control https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23899-p1.html Londonboy Control - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/24462-p1.html Londonboy Crossing Over https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/20737-p1.html Londonboy Crossing Over - Part Five https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/21593-p1.html Londonboy Crossing Over - Part Four https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/21371-p1.html Londonboy Crossing Over - Part Three https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/21309-p1.html Londonboy Crossing Over - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/21188-p1.html Londonboy Cumming and Growing https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/31730-p1.html Londonboy Cumming and Growing - Part II https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/32483-p1.html Londonboy Cumming and Growing - The Finale https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/32584-p1.html Londonboy Daddy's Little Girl https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23528-p1.html Londonboy Empowered https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/24106-p1.html Londonboy Eternally Grateful https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/31232-p1.html Londonboy Finding Mark: Chapter Eight https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/5858-p1.html Londonboy Finding Mark: Chapter Eleven https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6068-p1.html Londonboy Finding Mark: Chapter Nine https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/5936-p1.html Londonboy Finding Mark: Chapter Seven https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/5833-p1.html Londonboy Finding Mark: Chapter Six https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/5722-p1.html Londonboy Flip, This House! https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/8174-p1.html Londonboy Flip, This House! - Continued https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/8177-p1.html Londonboy Getting Used To Being Unstoppable https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/18730-p1.html Londonboy Getting Used to Being Unstoppable - 10 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/19310-p1.html Londonboy Getting Used to Being Unstoppable - 11 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/19442-p1.html Londonboy Getting Used to Being Unstoppable - 2 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/18747-p1.html Londonboy Getting Used to Being Unstoppable - 3 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/18759-p1.html Londonboy Getting Used to Being Unstoppable - 4 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/18781-p1.html Londonboy Getting Used to Being Unstoppable - 5 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/18801-p1.html Londonboy Getting Used to Being Unstoppable - 6 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/18839-p1.html Londonboy Getting Used to Being Unstoppable - 7 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/19001-p1.html Londonboy Getting Used to Being Unstoppable - 8 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/19016-p1.html Londonboy Getting Used to Being Unstoppable - 9 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/19249-p1.html Londonboy Grandpa's Wine https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/25554-p1.html Londonboy He's That Into You https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/17604-p1.html Londonboy He's That Into You - Part 2 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/17632-p1.html Londonboy He's That Into You - Part 3 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/17658-p1.html Londonboy He's That Into You - Part 4 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/17666-p1.html Londonboy His Cup of Tea - Part Eight https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/21472-p1.html Londonboy His Cup of Tea - Part Five https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/13542-p1.html Londonboy His Cup of Tea - Part Four https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12952-p1.html Londonboy His Cup of Tea - Part One https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12770-p1.html Londonboy His Cup of Tea - Part Seven https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/21423-p1.html Londonboy His Cup of Tea - Part Six https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/15412-p1.html Londonboy His Cup of Tea - Part Three https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12874-p1.html Londonboy His Cup of Tea - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12798-p1.html Londonboy It's Inevitable - Part One https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/69512-p1.html Londonboy It's Inevitable - Part Three https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/69622-p1.html Londonboy It's Inevitable - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/69604-p1.html Londonboy JT's Adventure https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6622-p1.html Londonboy JT's Second Adventure https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/6800-p1.html Londonboy Make Sure You Take Your Medicine https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/11009-p1.html Londonboy Martin Gets Big and Strong https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27191-p1.html Londonboy Martin Gets Big and Strong - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27299-p1.html Londonboy Meanwhile, Across Town https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/9086-p1.html Londonboy Mentoring Muscle - Part 2 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/3492-p1.html Londonboy Mentoring Muscle - Part 3 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/3516-p1.html Londonboy Mentoring Muscle - Part 4 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/3535-p1.html Londonboy Mr Ross Takes a Husband https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/19534-p1.html Londonboy Mr. Gaw - Senior Muscleman https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/38563-p1.html Londonboy Mr. Muscle Daddy's Prize https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12688-p1.html Londonboy Mr. Muscle Daddy's Prize - Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12937-p1.html Londonboy Mr. Ross https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/19449-p1.html Londonboy Mr. Ross Becomes Human https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/30280-p1.html Londonboy Mr. Ross' Endless Energy https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/21772-p1.html Londonboy Mr. Ross Grows https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/19483-p1.html Londonboy Mr. Ross Grows His Pup https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/28376-p1.html Londonboy Mr. Ross Plays Rough - Part 1 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23055-p1.html Londonboy Mr. Ross Plays Rough - Part 2 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23066-p1.html Londonboy Mr. Ross Shows Off https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/20684-p1.html Londonboy Muscle Fantasy Isalnd https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/21789-p1.html Londonboy Muscle Fantasy Island - Part Eight https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23397-p1.html Londonboy Muscle Fantasy Island - Part Eleven https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/24872-p1.html Londonboy Muscle Fantasy Island - Part Five https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23073-p1.html Londonboy Muscle Fantasy Island - Part Four https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/22908-p1.html Londonboy Muscle Fantasy Island - Part Nine https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23905-p1.html Londonboy Muscle Fantasy Island - Part Seven https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23196-p1.html Londonboy Muscle Fantasy Island - Part Six https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23091-p1.html Londonboy Muscle Fantasy Island - Part Ten https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/24171-p1.html Londonboy Muscle Fantasy Island - Part Three https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/22065-p1.html Londonboy Muscle Fantasy Island - Part Twelve https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/25292-p1.html Londonboy Muscle Fantasy Island - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/22059-p1.html Londonboy Muscle for Hire https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/10209-p1.html Londonboy Muscle for Hire, Part 2 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/10224-p1.html Londonboy Muscle for Hire, Part Five https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/10503-p1.html Londonboy Muscle for Hire, Part Four https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/10354-p1.html Londonboy Muscle for Hire, Part Seven https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/10628-p1.html Londonboy Muscle for Hire, Part Six https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/10576-p1.html Londonboy Muscle for Hire, Part Three https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/10326-p1.html Londonboy Muscle Speed Dating https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27019-p1.html Londonboy Muscle Therapy https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/24219-p1.html Londonboy My Grizzly https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/37025-p1.html Londonboy My Grizzly - Part 2 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/39472-p1.html Londonboy My Hero https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/17361-p1.html Londonboy My Muscle Muse https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/29254-p1.html Londonboy My Muscle Muse - Part II https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/29578-p1.html Londonboy My Muscle Muse - Part III https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/29930-p1.html Londonboy My Muscle Obsession - Part One https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/36172-p1.html Londonboy My Muscle Obsession - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/38180-p1.html Londonboy My Perspective https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/10791-p1.html Londonboy My Protector https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/19488-p1.html Londonboy My Protector: Part Four https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/19548-p1.html Londonboy My Protector: Part Three https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/19529-p1.html Londonboy My Protector: Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/19513-p1.html Londonboy My Roommate's Body https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/7789-p1.html Londonboy My Roommate's Body Part II https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/7804-p1.html Londonboy My Roommate's Body Part III https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/7861-p1.html Londonboy My Roommate's Body Part IV https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/7976-p1.html Londonboy My Roommate's Body Part IX https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/8460-p1.html Londonboy My Roommate's Body Part V https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/8082-p1.html Londonboy My Roommate's Body Part VI https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/8134-p1.html Londonboy My Roommate's Body Part VII https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/8186-p1.html Londonboy My Roommate's Body Part VIII https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/8448-p1.html Londonboy My Roommate's Body Part X https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/8929-p1.html Londonboy My Roommate's Body Part XI https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/9094-p1.html Londonboy My Roommate's Body Part XII https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/9108-p1.html Londonboy My Roommate's Body Part XIII https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/9634-p1.html Londonboy My Roommate's Body Part XIV https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/9646-p1.html Londonboy My Roommate's Body Part XV https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/9803-p1.html Londonboy My Roommate's Body Part XVI https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/10236-p1.html Londonboy NEW STORY - Transform: New Blood (Postscript, Part 2) https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12304-p1.html Londonboy New Story: Mentoring Muscle https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/3478-p1.html Londonboy No More Mr. Nice Guy https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/25470-p1.html Londonboy No More Mr. Nice Guy - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/25526-p1.html Londonboy Not in the Architect's Plans https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/24942-p1.html Londonboy Not In the Architect's Plans - Part Eight https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/25385-p1.html Londonboy Not In the Architect's Plans - Part Five https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/25157-p1.html Londonboy Not In the Architect's Plans - Part Four https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/25140-p1.html Londonboy Not In the Architect's Plans - Part Seven https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/25317-p1.html Londonboy Not In the Architect's Plans - Part Six https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/25222-p1.html Londonboy Not in the Architect's Plans - Part Three https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/25065-p1.html Londonboy Not in the Architect's Plans - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/25020-p1.html Londonboy Old Man Stevens https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/7648-p1.html Londonboy Old Man Stevens - Part 2 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/7836-p1.html Londonboy Old Man Stevens - Part 3 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/7872-p1.html Londonboy Old Man Stevens - Part 4 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/7907-p1.html Londonboy Old Man Stevens - Part Eight https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12980-p1.html Londonboy Old Man Stevens - Part Eleven https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/36053-p1.html Londonboy Old Man Stevens - Part Five https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12166-p1.html Londonboy Old Man Stevens - Part Nine https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/13086-p1.html Londonboy Old Man Stevens - Part Seven https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12232-p1.html Londonboy Old Man Stevens - Part Six https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12172-p1.html Londonboy Old Man Stevens - Part Ten https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27166-p1.html Londonboy Pleasing Mr. Ross https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/20235-p1.html Londonboy Polar Opposites - The Beginning https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/19375-p1.html Londonboy Polar Opposites - The First Date https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/20017-p1.html Londonboy Power Full https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/67664-p1.html Londonboy Promoting Jet https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/11107-p1.html Londonboy Promoting Jet (Part 2) https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/11142-p1.html Londonboy Promoting Jet (Part 3) https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/11177-p1.html Londonboy Pursued by Muscle https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/28834-p1.html Londonboy Read My Lips - The Beginning https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/9625-p1.html Londonboy Read My Lips II https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/9753-p1.html Londonboy Read My Lips III https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/9774-p1.html Londonboy Read My Lips IV https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/9789-p1.html Londonboy Robby's Imaginary Muscleman https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12249-p1.html Londonboy Robby's Imaginary Muscleman - Finale https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12723-p1.html Londonboy Robby's Imaginary Muscleman II https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12263-p1.html Londonboy Robby's Imaginary Muscleman III https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12273-p1.html Londonboy Robby's Imaginary Muscleman IV https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12290-p1.html Londonboy Robby's Imaginary Muscleman V https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12665-p1.html Londonboy Robby's Imaginary Muscleman VI https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/12701-p1.html Londonboy Secret Strength https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/28974-p1.html Londonboy Secret Strength - II https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/28983-p1.html Londonboy Secret Strength - III https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/29002-p1.html Londonboy Senior Living https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/67262-p1.html Londonboy Senior Living - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/67310-p1.html Londonboy Sherlock Holmes and Watson https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/28110-p1.html Londonboy Sherlock Holmes and Watson - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/28131-p1.html Londonboy Size Doesn't Have to Matter https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/10187-p1.html Londonboy Size Doesn't Have to Matter: Finale (For Now) https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/10204-p1.html Londonboy Size Doesn't Have to Matter: Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/10196-p1.html Londonboy Stack is Stacked https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/26907-p1.html Londonboy Stack is Stacked - Part Five https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27483-p1.html Londonboy Stack is Stacked - Part Four https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27063-p1.html Londonboy Stack is Stacked - Part Six https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/29485-p1.html Londonboy Stack is Stacked - Part Three https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/26966-p1.html Londonboy Stack is Stacked - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/26934-p1.html Londonboy STORY: Seducers (Chapter 23) https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/4754-p1.html Londonboy Teaching a Big Bear New Tricks https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23545-p1.html Londonboy Teaching a Big Bear New Tricks 2 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23569-p1.html Londonboy Teaching a Big Bear New Tricks 3 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23594-p1.html Londonboy Testosterone With a Capital T https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/32355-p1.html Londonboy The Alpha Dog Gets A Leash - Part Five https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/16317-p1.html Londonboy The Alpha Dog Gets A Leash - Part Four https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/16077-p1.html Londonboy The Alpha Dog Gets A Leash - Part One https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/13727-p1.html Londonboy The Alpha Dog Gets A Leash - Part Three https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/15560-p1.html Londonboy The Alpha Dog Gets A Leash - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/13808-p1.html Londonboy The Aphrodisiac https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23246-p1.html Londonboy The Aphrodisiac - Chapter Four https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23350-p1.html Londonboy The Aphrodisiac - Chapter Three https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23286-p1.html Londonboy The Aphrodisiac - Chapter Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23261-p1.html Londonboy The Bestower of Pleasure https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/32826-p1.html Londonboy The Bestower of Pleasure - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/33423-p1.html Londonboy The Boss - Part 1 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/34292-p1.html Londonboy The Boss - Part 2 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/35832-p1.html Londonboy The Bully's Secret https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/23088-p1.html Londonboy The Cell Mate https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/22196-p1.html Londonboy The Cellmate - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/22898-p1.html Londonboy The Creation of Mr. G https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/16244-p1.html Londonboy The Good Doctor - Ask Me Out Already https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/18316-p1.html Londonboy The Good Doctor - The Beginning https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/18282-p1.html Londonboy The Muscle Fairy https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27507-p1.html Londonboy The Phoenix - Part 1 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27078-p1.html Londonboy The Phoenix - Part 2 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27082-p1.html Londonboy The Phoenix - Part 3 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27093-p1.html Londonboy The Phoenix - Part 4 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27103-p1.html Londonboy The Phoenix - Part 5 https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27120-p1.html Londonboy The Power https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/66726-p1.html Londonboy The Power of Attraction https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/3494-p1.html Londonboy The Power of Attraction - Part Three https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/3525-p1.html Londonboy The Power of Attraction - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/3503-p1.html Londonboy The Pupil Earns a Muscle Gold Star - First Half https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/30712-p1.html Londonboy The Pupil Earns a Muscle Gold Star - Second Half https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/30811-p1.html Londonboy The Rehabilitator https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/69640-p1.html Londonboy The Rehabilitator - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/69965-p1.html Londonboy The Taming of the Brute https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/66863-p1.html Londonboy The Taming of the Brute - Part Three https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/67887-p1.html Londonboy The Taming of the Brute - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/67860-p1.html Londonboy The Thrill of the Hunt https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/19268-p1.html Londonboy The Turning https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/5219-p1.html Londonboy The Turning - Time Apart https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/24401-p1.html Londonboy Timmy's Fetish https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/67745-p1.html Londonboy Timmy's Fetish - Part II https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/67762-p1.html Londonboy Timmy's Fetish - Part III https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/67782-p1.html Londonboy Timmy's Fetish - Part IV https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/67817-p1.html Londonboy Timmy's Fetish - Part V https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/67852-p1.html Londonboy Timmy's Fetish - Part VI https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/68240-p1.html Londonboy Timmy's Fetish - Part VII https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/68249-p1.html Londonboy Top Secret https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/43617-p1.html Londonboy Top Secret - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/66803-p1.html Londonboy Trading Up https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27763-p1.html Londonboy Trading Up - Part Five https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/28742-p1.html Londonboy Trading Up - Part Four https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/28228-p1.html Londonboy Trading Up - Part Three https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27862-p1.html Londonboy Trading Up - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27797-p1.html Londonboy Unbridled Domination https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27620-p1.html Londonboy Unbridled Domination - Conclusion https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/29609-p1.html Londonboy Unbridled Domination - Part Four https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/28712-p1.html Londonboy Unbridled Domination - Part Three https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27686-p1.html Londonboy Unbridled Domination - Part Two https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/27638-p1.html Londonboy Vladimir's Tutor https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/28299-p1.html Londonboy Who's the Chairman of the Board https://archive.muscle-growth.org/threads/67007-p1.html
    1 point
  20. Man, I am so glad I ran into this – it has been something I’ve needed for a LONG time. Back when I was 18, I was 5’8” and 225lbs of lard. Over the years I’ve been able to lose most of the weight, but gaining any muscle has been an impossible hurdle with my body. At 36, I was 163lbs but still weak as fuck. Something HAD to change. Just like you said, at 9:00 I went outside and wrote the P on the door with chalk. I had a little trouble getting the chalk to stay on the door since it’s painted glossy, but managed to get the P bold enough. It didn’t take too long to gather the rest of the items, so I had them stacked up in my living room by 10:00. Thank goodness I had a book of matches in the bottom of my junk drawer – I don’t smoke and usually use a lighting torch to light my grill, so I was glad to find them. While waiting anxiously for 11 to come, I changed into some more comfortable workout clothes. About 10:45 I ventured down into the darkness of my basement, waiting for the minutes to tick by. I saw my watch tick down to 11, prompting me to draw the pentagram onto the cold concrete. My art skills are nothing to write home about, but I managed to get it looking pretty good! I had to draw it kind of large so I could fit one of my push-up handles into the center. Once the candles were in place and lit, I slid the pushup handle into the center and quickly opened the box of salt, pouring the circle around me. Thank goodness I had the extra salt from brining a turkey last Thanksgiving. Man, my heart was POUNDING at that point, nervous as hell. I had to wait a few anxious seconds until I could manage the courage. I yelled out loud, trying to make sure he could hear me from outside, “come in I’m ready!” I could hear the front door open, the squeak of the hinges undeniable. My heart racing fast, the pounding almost too loud of me to hear the creek of the stairs, step by step, as he slowly descended. My face staring down at the front of my football shirt, trying to focus on the letters so as not to look up. My hands were shaking so bad, arms feeling ice cold. “And look here, a fucking weakling…” I hear him growl DEEP above my head, “what do YOU want?” It was hard to talk through the nervousness, the fear within me, but I managed to start after stuttering a couple times. “I’m tired of being called weak sir, I can’t stand it anymore. I want to be strong, to be big, to be an alpha sir. That’s all I need, please sir…” I moan out, still incredibly nervous and scared yet relieved to say it. It seemed like the heat from his body radiated into me as he got a bit closer, kneeling down and grabbing the metal push-up handle from the center of the pentagram. Not looking up I couldn’t see what he was doing to it, but suddenly I heard him start twisting the metal, busting it apart with only a few flexes of his arms, the shards crashing to the floor loudly. It startled me, I started to moan out “please” in desperation but stopped myself, staring at the scraps spread before me. All I heard was a deep grunt before he growled out “step out of the circle,” scaring me even more – do I do it? Was he going to help or hurt me? My fear was totally consuming my mind, but because my need for this was so desperate, I forced myself to place a foot out of the circle. Another step, completely out. The heat from his body so intense it’s spanning the distance between us, I can feel it radiate into me. My eyes clamped shut, afraid to look. “Another step…” he growls again, lifting my right foot forward and feeling within inches of his obviously huge body. I hear him move around me, his muscular arms…hands…starting to clamp around my body, pulling me into his chest. The caress of his skin smooth yet tough. I moan out a mix of fear and arousal as I feel his abs push into me HARD, his arms pressing me harder and harder into his SOLID body. With a motion of his huge hand, he grabs the collar of my shirt and growls out “this is mine now…you better play football after this!” with a deep laugh, ripping my shirt of my body with one solid motion. I feel his hands push me down onto the floor as he turned, ultimately stepping toward the stairs. Just as the first step creeks, I hear him grunt one final time “that weakness is going to BURN out of your body” with a deep, guttural laugh. Before he even got to the front door, I started feeling my body heat up. Fuck man, I was sweating profusely, my body feeling nauseous. Seconds passed again and I started feeling my entire body engulfed with pain like I’m on fire, making me scream LOUD as I fall back onto the hard concrete, unable to move. My body beginning to thrash as it feels like every muscle in my body is forced to spasm, ball up, and swell. I struggle to look at my body, barely able to lift my head as I watch two huge globes of my chest rise inch after inch before my eyes. Lats forcing my arms to spread out, thighs and ass relentlessly pushing against the concrete. Sensations of snakes up and down my arms and legs as I realize how vascular I’m becoming. My voice cracking from the pain, yet I keep feeling my crotch getting harder. Harder. Harder. An uncontrollable desire building down there even though the PAIN is intense. My shorts starting to rip from the sheer size of my rod within them, precum oozing out onto my abs as they pulse out from my gut. An itching yet arousing started overcoming my entire chest, back, and face as I feel thick, black hair start filling in. Even though I couldn’t see my own face, it felt like there was a thick carpet there to show my ALPHA status. It felt like an eternity has passed yet the pain and pleasure continues as it feels like my entire body is being FORCED to PULSE with muscle, every involuntarily FLEX making it feel like my skin is stretching over huge globes within me. On the fifteenth flex it felt like my body had locked into place – LOCKED while forcing my MUSCLE to bulge – and my rod start pouring out cum, shooting it all over my pecs, face, and everything surrounding me. At some point while cumming I blacked out for who knows how long. I woke up, the cum dried all over my body, and managed to coax myself upright. My new size was so incredibly obvious…and arousing. Step after step, feeling the weight of my back, chest, arms bulging at my sides. Walking into the bathroom where I have a big mirror, I found I couldn’t see my whole body. “Fuuuuuckkkkkk” I moan out, turning and seeing a huge pec shelf protruding out my front while my ass looked like it was carved out of steel. It took some searching, but I found a measuring tape. My Fitbit scale shows 348.5. It doesn’t look like I grew in height that much, as I stand 6’ even now. But DAMN, he made me one thick brute and that’s fucking ALPHA enough to me! Bros, it’s worth it to go through the pain. Let me tell you you think you’re gonna die. But fuuuckk, afterward it’s PURE PLEASURE. Just like Astromuscle here, I’ve gotta order some new clothes. And it looks like I’m gonna have to find a local semi-pro team to play football with!
    1 point
  21. 4/20 (Continued from the OP) Will felt weak as he sat on the couch. He didn't even feel like turning of the TV, even though it just said "Technical Difficulties". His phone rang, he struggled to lift it to his ear and hear the voice of Crystal. "Hey babe, heard you were sick. I've got some soup I can bring over." "Nah, just a COUGH*Hack* cold" "You don't sound so good. Maybe I should come over." Crystal hung up before he could reply. Soup actually sounded pretty good right now. Shortly he heard her key in the lock and she let herself in. She was carrying a covered dish of something that smelled amazing. Will had stretched out on the sofa. She set down the soup on the coffee able and lifted his head so she could sit. "You really should be home...*COUGH" "Maybe you have that new virus going around. Soup might do you good. Sit up and eat some." Will struggled upright and held the spoon he took a couple of sips. "That tastes pretty good. And I already do feel a bit better" He was hunched forward and Crystal saw his back begin to widen out slightly. "I think you might have that virus" He sat up and turned to her. "What virus?" She saw his pecs pushing against the front of his shirt and he appeared as yet unaware of the changes. She smiled, "You do have it. And I, for one, am glad." She suddenly leaned in and kissed him. He pushed her back, "If I have a virus don't be kissing me." "I can't catch it. Only men get this" Then he noticed and gasped. His back flared out bursting his shirt and pushing his arms away from his sides. Crystal leaned in to rub the pecs and fell them swell in her hand. More popping and snapping as his arms blew out of his sleeves. Crystal saw his already large package grow even bigger and she grew wet and pushed him back into sofa and crawled on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her and she could feel his hands thickening. There was a loud snap as his feet burst from his sneakers. "This feels...uhhhhh.....so damn good" He was bucking against her. His voice much deeper caused her to moan. His waist thickened and his butt bubbled out causing them to rise upwards. With a loud groan the sofa collapsed under them and the floor cracked when they hit it. Will was only 5'7 but he was beginning to stretch upwards. Crystal ripped what was left of his shorts away and began stroking his 3 foot dick. The tip of it rubbing against her breasts. This only cause Will to go even more wild. He moaned, I'm going to cum and suddenly released so violently it threw Crystal back and he continued to coat the entire living room. After his last gasp he struggled to his feet, adjusting for his new size. Crystal looked up at her now 6'5 400 pound man and said, "Now that's a boyfriend"
    1 point
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