Leaderboard

So, before you go all ‘religious’ on me and say you can save my soul just because you don’t think my career is holy enough, please know that I love being a hustler. Not only do I love it, I’m good at it, too. I’ve got a California surfer look that drives the men crazy– even down to the long blonde curls and tight body. I’m known as Golden Boy on the circuit and I’ve reached a point where I don’t really need to hustle on the street – since I have a steady stream of repeat customers – but I still like to go out some nights and feel the thrill of snagging some hot customer. If it’s a guy’s first time, I feel like it is Christmas. I love breaking in a newbie. Taking a dude that’s nervous and swears he only wants to cuddle and then opening them wide – both figuratively and literally - is such a thrill. I love a guy that begins by saying certain things are off limits and then later on is begging me to pound him again – even willing to double the pay for a second round. My reputation is as long as my member – not to mention as thick. So, it’s Friday night and I’m cruising on the corner just down from a hardcore gym in a rough area of town. I have a thing for muscle men, so I sometimes come here knowing I can snag a wondering bodybuilder that wants to try new things. I’m sometimes amazed at how the bigger a fella is the quicker his legs will go up in the air. Now, don’t judge me on that fact – just know that I’ve been taken home by big guys before that ended up being more feminine in the bedroom than your sweet old grandmother. Don’t worry, I’ve never slept with her, it’s just an expression. Besides, I only do men. Tonight I look especially hot, cut offs and a light blue tank top that makes my eyes pop in the light. I know my golden tan is ravishing and my lean, gymnast body makes me even more appealing. I turn down a few regulars who drive by and honk, telling them that they need to make an appointment just like everyone else. I’m a businessman, after all. And besides, if you haven’t called by Wednesday, don’t expect me to be going out with you on Friday. A guy’s got to live by some rules. I really love good manners. It’s the swagger I notice first. I immediately think this dude has put the grrrr in swagger. I can tell he’s big – more than double the size of me. He’s clearly been to the gym because his t-shirt is soaked. I can see matted hair underneath the white material – even from a pretty far distance. I can’t see much more of him, because of the light. He’s got on dark sweats, so I don’t get to have an advanced look at my favorite part of a guy’s body – thick muscular thighs. It’s not until he reaches a certain part in the sidewalk where a streetlight is shining down brightly. When he steps into what feels like a spotlight I stop breathing and I’m pretty sure my heart skipped a beat. If you’ve ever wondered what would happen if you put Sam Eliot’s older face on Lou Ferrigno’s giant younger body, then wonder no more. That’s what would give you an idea of just what made me freeze. I pride myself on being able to say a guy is handsome and I’ve even been turned on by the looks of guys in the past, but nothing could have prepared me for the avalanche of feelings that caved in at that point. The dude was stacked so densely you got the feeling he could accidently bump into a light pole and knock it down – ripping up the concrete beneath it. The bushy handlebar mustache that I associated with 70’s porn, the leather guy from the Village People, and what made a supreme muscle daddy was right there – draped across the upper lip of the man of my dreams. His arms seemed to be testing the strength of his shirtsleeves and I was pretty sure the shirt would lose if the dude flexed. If you called a protruding chest a pec shelf, then this guy was the entire library. The front end of some cars didn’t stick out that far. Silver streaks in his closely cut hair, his mustache, the stubble across his chin, and surely the fur I knew that cascaded across his chest only made him more handsome – more desirable. I also hoped there were gray hairs in the trail that led further below, too. This dude had my balls churning out juice the way a Ford plant cranked out cars. Instantly, I knew I had to have the guy. He had stopped to tie his shoelace, - a movement that highlighted his muscles in a way that was mesmerizing - so that gave me a chance to make a plan. I walked to the edge of the light, just beyond where all of my features would be clear. I wanted to have a few surprises. I waited for him to stand up – suddenly realizing that he towered over my normal height body. “Hey, Papa Bear, you got the time?” I saw him smile without even turning to look at me. He glanced down at his monstrous watch and then looked my way. “Yeah, it’s eleven fifteen. That’s a little late for a boy like you to be out, isn’t it?” His words stung a little, but then I realized his smile said that he was just equaling the banter I had begun. It also registered that his voice was a lower than a low baritone and it seemed to rumble through the air like thunder. I noted that my ball sac tightened at the sound. I stepped into the light. “Wowza, you’re a stunner, little man. One might even call you a pretty boy.” “One might even call you a muscle daddy.” “I do my best. Gotta keep the young guys chomping at the bit.” “It looks like you succeed.” We stared at each other for a few seconds. I could tell he was sizing me up – calculating all the things I had been able to figure out about him while I was hidden in the darkness. I noticed right away that he was even more roughly handsome than I had thought. The perfect amount of wise man wrinkles and slivers of silver that seemed to sparkle in the light in every place that hair grew. And he was massive. Not the kind of chiseled big boy one finds at gay discos on Saturday night, but the outdoors kind of big that was saved for Paul Bunyan or for strongmen competitors. His bent arm that was holding on to the strap of the huge bag dangling from his shoulder highlighted a biceps that romance writers would have described as ‘monstrous,’ ‘enormous,’ or ‘mountainous.’ I just called it unbelievably big, hard-looking, and manly. I could tell he knew I was looking at his arm. He did nothing to highlight it anymore, since he knew he didn’t need to. He was the next to speak. “You look like you surf?” “Why’s that?” “The tan, the natural highlights in your hair, the kind of body that’s produced by water resistance.” “I’d have to say you nailed it. You look like you lift.” “Well, I did just come from a gym.” “Yeah, but it’s more than that. You waddle . . . well, it’s more of a swagger, but it’s the kind of movement that’s usually reserved for guys who move around incredible amounts of weight. You know, a hell of a lot more than water resistance. How much you bench?” “A small car.” I briefly lost control and sucked in air. Thinking of that body pushing up a car was too much for me. My reaction made him smile again. This time, pearly whites – as straight as they come – were highlighted by the light overhead. I instantly liked making him smile and made a mental note to do it more often. I tilted my head to regain composure and get him to confess a more accurate answer. “I did chest tonight and broke my personal record. I pushed up six hundred and forty pounds.” “Oh my fucking goodness!” There was no way for me to hide my amazement or how much this information turned me on. I knew the world record was higher than that, but I had certainly never met a guy that could lift so much weight. My reaction, again, pleased him. I’m sure he was used to people gawking at him, but I got the distinct feeling he was happy I was so pleased. “That’s just a little less than four of you, isn’t it Golden Locks.” I immediately got the reference going back to when I had called him Papa Bear. I had also already figured out the amount of weight he benched was more than three times my body. He was pressing more than three of me – put together – into the air. It was difficult for me to even imagine. I decided to switch gears and get my mind off of his size and abilities. I thought it might be fun to continue with our little allusion to a children’s story. “Got any porridge at home, Papa Bear?” “I’ve got a lot of things at home. Some you can eat, some you can drink, and some you can play with.” “You like to play, big man?” Again with the smile, which was going to do me in very soon. He finally tensed his bent arm and the biceps swelled bigger and harder. He could see that my gaze immediately went to the muscle. “I do like to play, but I can be a little . . . rough.” “When you’re as big and strong as you are how can it not be rough.” “Exactly.” “And tell me, Papa Bear, do you have any chairs I would find just right?” “Not really, but my legs are bigger than a chair, so you might find my lap just right.” I think the look on my face must have given my passion for thighs away. The big man clearly registered how his comment had sent my head reeling. He decided to take advantage of the situation – right there and then. He reached down with his free hand and shoved his sweats to his knees – revealing some Calvin Klein tight briefs that were losing the battle of trying to stay tight around his enormous legs, but what else was there made me light headed. I had heard thighs described as redwood trees and kegs of beer. Never had I dreamed I would meet someone where those descriptions seemed weak and feeble. I could have cum on the spot – his giant wheels were enough to fuel my whack-off sessions for the rest of my life. I somehow, however, prevented my body from giving into its desire. I was very thankful that he finally pulled his sweats back up, but once something that majestic is seen you certainly can’t unsee it. “Something tells me Golden Locks would love to be caught between my massive legs and it would be fine for me to squeeze away.” “Fuck yes.” “It seems we have lost the confident banter, kid. I’ve reduced you to someone who just uses swear words.” “I just need a second to recover. That sight was unbelievable. I have a thing for thick thighs.” “Really, I hadn’t noticed.” Papa Bear took a couple of steps toward me. I had to crank my chin upward to look him in the face. The dude had to be six feet eight or more. His shoulders seemed wider than the dark sky. I held my ground, even though every fiber of my body wanted to move back. He noticed I wasn’t intimidated. “You haven’t asked Papa Bear about his bed, Golden Locks.” “Tell me about your bed, sir.” He stepped even closer. I could smell his sweat, mixed in with a manly musk that he must exude at all times. I had to tilt my head further back. “It’s big – like me – and very comfortable. I think you’d find it just right, kid.” “I think so, too.”

Part 5 Dante had a wild night last night as he slowly woke up in his apartment king size bed. He felt heavier, but it had to be a dream. Then he saw it. He saw his new biceps as he reached his hand up to his head. His pecs were thick and partially blocked the view to his feet. The deep cuts in his abs rise and fall as he takes a breath. Just a couple of days ago, the king bed would have swallowed him. Now he felt bigger, he was bigger. But he wanted more. He walked out into the living area to find a very big breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, fruit. It seemed enough to feed a family of four, but Dante knew it had been Mr. K. And as if on cue, his stomach began to rumble. Dante tore into the food, and minutes later, every container and plate was empty. Two days ago, he would never have eaten that much. Two days ago, he would’ve been on the street begging for scraps under the warmth and confines of his bundled blankets. However, today was a new day, and the last day for Southern decadence. After tonight, many of the handsome bears would fly home to their respective (or non-respective) lives. Dante wanted more size…he NEEDED more size. And he knew just where to find plenty of suitors to deposit their load… Elsewhere, Kalfu looked on. This avatar was proving to be somewhat of the greedy kind. Normally, the avatar would be able to sense the wicked, grow from them, and then let Kalfu have the soul. However, this one seemed to be just interested in growth. This could pose a problem down the road. If Kalfu didn’t have the souls he needed, his strength would lessen. What’s worse, if he wanted to expand his grip on the land beyond Louisiana, he would need to tether his very own demigod force to his avatar. If Dante doesn’t have enough energy when passing over the state line, both would perish…he had to make sure the young and growing avatar was ready. Dante closed the door to his Lyft and wandered into Rawhide. Known as the local leather bar, Rawhide was a corner establishment. On the outside looking in, it seemed like any normal bar. A couple of large screen tv’s, a pool table in the middle…but Dante knew better. He could sense more, so he scanned until he found the signature black curtain. Beyond that curtain laid some elevated wooden benches and a small hallway leading to a restroom on one side, and a room for glory holes on the other. There were four holes, and due to the earlier part of the day, it wasn’t very crowded. However, Dante saw that all of the holes were filled with large cocks, ripe for the taking. He wandered over and knelt and took the first cock, while reaching to his right to stroke the second. He alternated back and forth between the two. In a while, he felt the first tense up and clamped his mouth around it taking in all the seed he could muster. Just shortly after swallowing that load, he moved on to the second cock while stroking the third. Dante could barely take notice of his growth when the second cock erupted down his gullet. He repeated this process on the third and the fourth, all the while paying little to no attention to the rips and stretches of his clothes as he grew out of them. Dante’s head started spinning as he wiped the drippage from his chin and stood up finally. He was enormous. His biceps bulging at around 22 inches, his chest had to be 56 inches. He thought he’d be able to keep his v-shape frame, but Dante was now built like an offseason bodybuilder. He traps engulfed his neck and shoulders, his back broad and tapered, his glutes were thick and hard. From his waist protruded six blocky-turtle shell abs. His thighs packed with so much muscle at 29 inches. His calves, not to be outdone, blossomed into humongous diamonds. But nothing could compare to the monster between his legs. At 12 inches hard, Dante began to stroke his massive cock. He maneuvered his new 265lb. frame over to one of the wooden benches, sat down and continued to stroke himself. By this time, those who were in the back dark room, had not seen the growth, but only heard the moans of this muscle mountain. People started stroking themselves, when Dante saw opportunity. “Where are you from?”, Dante growled, his voice had gone a couple octaves down. “Michigan,” yelped a bear cub. “And you?”, Dante barked at the larger bear beside him. “Boston”. “Tell daddy how much you weigh.” “200 lbs.”, said Michigan “240 lbs.”, said Boston “Well today’s your lucky day. One of you gets to fuck my ass, and the other fucks my mouth. The first to cum, gets fucked by this big cock.” Both men went to work. Michigan at the mouth and Boston in the ass, and both were in heaven. Dante playfully closed his anus around his invader to elicit moans, while he reached his massive hand up to squeeze the nipples of his mouth attacker. It wouldn’t be much longer now. Then he could feel it, Michigan and Boston erupted into Dante within seconds of the other, although, Boston had beaten Michigan to the punch. Dante felt so lightheaded as he ballooned with more size and more power. This is what he’d been waiting for! He reached up and kissed Boston deeply. Boston looked up at Dante as his 6’3” frame towered over him. His now 14-inch cock swinging hard between two mountainous thighs. Dante stared at the wall, over Boston, as if he didn’t even acknowledge his presence. “Ass…now, boy”. This wasn’t a request. Boston quickly assumed the position and waited for the big muscle bear to invade. Dante wasted little time inserting his monster cock into the 240lb. bear. It felt sooo good. He was just big enough to where he wouldn’t break him, but he needed to test his strength. He flipped Boston on his back, rammed his cock in and scooped his legs. Dante’s strong back began to straighten, and he raised the big bear in the air, still impaled on his dick, sliding further and further down. Boston had never been fucked in the air before, and the big man’s 24 inch arms were doing so with great ease. Dante grabbed the bear’s lats. They weren’t muscle-like at all, but with the extra fat, he began to pull and push the bear up and down on his cock until the chubby ass was filled with all 14 inches. Dante felt powerful, his muscles felt like they were getting a pump. And then, he began to feel the build up. After what seemed like forever, Dante exploded inside of Boston, the bear’s eyes rolling in the back of his head as he, himself, came a second time. Dante scooped up some of the cum and swallowed it…but nothing. ‘Guess it only works once’, he thought. After lifting Boston from his cock, he looked at his onlookers and bellowed, “Clean big daddy!”. Immediately, people grabbed towels from the storage closet and gave the massive muscle bear a standing cleansing, and made sure to get every nook; Boston, still in a daze from the fuck of his life, laid there in awww as the muscle daddy was scrubbed clean. Dante waddled from Rawhide after his cleaning. Now weighing in at a whopping 287lbs., Dante looked like he could take any offensive linebacker or pro bodybuilder for that matter. The only clothing remaining was a stretchy pair of Under Armour underwear and some flip flops he got from one of his onlookers at the bar. Everything was tattered. He’d have to ask Mr. K for new clothes, or else go purchase them almost naked. Either way, he couldn’t stop touching himself. However, it was still early in the day. He decided to grab his bag full of tattered clothes, and head to the nearest gym. He could test his strength along the way, and maybe even pick up a few new “clients”. Kalfu was pleased. 2 of the 6 souls would be his, but 5 of the 6 were from places outside of Louisiana. This avatar just might be able to do it. However, Kalfu would have to make certain before his next phase was put into place. As the young mountain got into the Lyft to head to the gym, Kalfu smiled…his plan could finally work, and he would be free.

Alternate title: The pump is life! The pump is...too much? The story isn’t done but I’m posting what I have for those guys that expressed interest in it, I’ll be finishing and editing it over the next day or two. Feedback is welcome. “Congratulations Max! You’ve been chosen, as you are required to do as per section 4 paragraph 3 of your sponsorship contract, to test one of the many fine products we make here at Unbound Beast! Project Pump Unbound is sure to lead to great things during your workouts and will leave with a pump like no other while giving you the energy to push yourself to levels you’ve never knew you could attain. Satisfaction? Guaranteed! Ensure you follow directions EXACTLY as laid out to give you the best results possible and relay your experiences back to the company ASAP. “ Yadda, yadda, yadda. The letter that came with the package goes on for some more self aggrandizing bullshit about the company. For a supplement company they really have their heads deep up their own asses. Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful they sponsored me and love what their “100% legal over the counter supplements” (and the not so legal ones they give people like me they sponsor) but I have to admit they worry me at times. Not just the completely soulless nature they do things but the fact, for all they hype them up, the men they sponsor and spend so much time and money on all seem to...quietly just disappear. At the same time though I do love the results I’ve been getting, the attention, money, and the chance at getting on the Olympia stage so if some shady shit is going on I don’t care so long as I get my due. With their help I’ve gone from an up and coming heavyweight bodybuilder tipping the scale at a, relatively, meager 253lbs while juiced to the gills to a rather staggering 328lbs, with a pro card now I might add, in a matter of a few short months. Thank fucking god that I’m over 6’ because the muscle just keeps packing on with no end in sight and I’d start to worry if I was any shorter about being able to get around properly. I mean at least this time they decided to have me act as a guinea pig on a preworkout of all things. I’d love to get to a nice even 350lbs with their help, so I can truly put the fear of ME into people at the gym and on stage, but it is starting to get a bit out of control. Whatever. Who the fuck actually needs clothes that aren’t painted onto every part of your body or to be able to fit in doorways...or cars...or plane seats without some severe discomfort for everyone involved? I sure as fucking hell don’t! I love this shit. I live for this shit. Unbound Beast can make me into a freak of nature but it’s my choice to stay one. So let’s see what this new toy they just sent to me on a silver platter can really fucking do. I put on my favorite pair of tights, spandex shirt, and high tops before grabbing my shit and a shaker full of this special “Project Pump Unbound” before getting into my truck and speeding my way to the gym like a child anxious for the arrival of Santa. I couldn’t hold in my excitement as I down the bitter and tangy preworkout the moment I saw the gym on the horizon. By the time I got out of my truck, which very visibly lurched as I stepped out of it, I could feel it start working. I swear the veins on my arms and what you could see all across my legs through my tights were pulsating with every heart beat as the supplement made its way throughout my body. I swaggered toward the gym with full confidence that this workout was going to be fucking legendary. Every step I could feel my arms bounce off my lats as they made contact, my quads grazing each other all the way down my knees, and my calves flexing into thick balls of pure sex and power with every step as I waddled through the front door. So single minded was desire for self worship through steel that I brushed past the front desk with the attendant looked at with a mix of annoyance and recognition. Not a single person at this gym did not know who I was or just how much of a muscled freak I’ve become over the last few months. Despite my best efforts people were intimidated of me and gave me a wide berth, I admit it bothers me that they feel this way even when I go out of my way to be friendly and approachable but you know? Tonight. Tonight it suits me just fucking fine. I’m on a mission to test this little prototype drug of UBI’s and I won’t be done until I’ve pumped every single muscle to the fucking max, time to stress test this shit. I made my way to the weight room floor stopping at the threshold to survey my kingdom, my temple of iron dedicated to the exultation of power, muscle, and personal dominance. I couldn’t help myself as I adjusted my inordinately sizes bulge as my dick too decided to begin its own praise of what as to come. One major thing I will give Unbound’s products, I don’t have to worry about my balls withering to nothing like I had to on hear despite my body hosting a chem lab’s worth of chemicals. With purpose I made my way to the nearest unoccupied treadmill to start a quick warm scaring a man I’d seen numerous times before at the gym. There was a spring in my step as I began a light jog which I couldn’t tell if it was due to the preworkout or my anticipation. I looked around the gym floor curious to see who was here tonight as I noticed that the man on the treadmill next to me was blatantly eye fucking me as I ran, the only noise that could be heard were my thundering footfalls that echoed through out the entire room and his hard breathing as he leered at my form. I laughed to myself and stared directly into his eyes which finally broke him from his trance, he blushed and turned forward again but stumbled off his treadmill and onto his ass on the ground. Immediately j stopped my jog and allowed the treadmill to deposit me on the ground next to him with a resounding THUD. He had a combination of surprise, hurt pride, and embarrassment on his face as I bent down to help him back onto his feet. Only then did I notice the respectably large tent in his shorts that was twitching with need as he looked at me. Defiantly he ignored my hand and scrambled into the locker room blushing so hard his face darkened several hues redder. I chuckled to myself about the situation while feeling sorry for kid’s predicament. I gathered my things, readjusted my dick again which was having a mind of its own since I drank that preworkout, and headed over to an open bench press. I put a plate on each side to begin warming up my chest, quickly busting out 20 reps to really get the blood flowing for a weight that is otherwise completely insignificant to me. As I sat back up I caught a quick glance of myself in the mirror. I could see my chest visibly swell just a little bit larger with every breath after this single set. Oh. Hell. Fucking. “YES!” I startled two guys next to me in the middle of their set with my outburst. I thought to myself now that I have their attention I may as well request they help my make the most of this. “Hey. Can you two do me a solid? Put on another 45lb plate when I tell you to, I want to bust out a quick pyramid set.” They glanced at each other before quickly nodding. I laid back down under the bar as they put another plate on each side of the bar for me and again I repped out a quick 20 reps with little exertion on my part. “Another!” A plate was added and 20 more reps went by. “Another!!” 20 more reps. “Another!!!” 20 again. “ANOTHER!!!” I finally slowed down but not due to fatigue or exhaustion, in fact I’d never felt so good, I slowly…slowly lowered the bar down to my chest taking my sweet time to burst back up with enough force to surprise my two helpers into taking a step back. I did this again, and again, and again until yet another twenty reps had passed with my brow finally starting to sweat from the show the combination of personal and chemically enhanced strength. I was spellbound as I went through the motions. Any pain or ache I’ve ever had no matter how minor was dispelled as if it was never there, I was like a conduit of human prowess made manifest as I started to scare even myself with what this drug was doing for me yet my only thought was “MORE!” With a jarring sound of metal on metal I racked the weights before muttering my thanks to the two slack jawed men that helped me. Keeping my head down so I could surprise myself with the results I made my way to cable area. Immediately I began to belt out rep after rep of cable crossovers, lateral raises, reverse later raises, pull ups, wide grip pulldowns, curls, pushdowns, and anything at all that could be done for my upper body in quick succession. The only time to sound of weight hitting weight as I acted like a demon possessed was when I changed the weight or exercises, I began to draw the attention of nearly everyone on the gym floor but I didn’t care. Well over an hour passed before I finally stopped to look at the results at which point I now knew why everyone was staring at me. My compression shirt was so tight across my hulking form that it looked like I had stolen a shirt belonging to a small child. I gingerly flexed one of my arms in the mirror as they were so bloated with blood and brawn that it became a feat to even do that much. What had once been about the size of my head now completely eclipsed it. My forearms were so thick and riddled with veins completely engorged with blood that it fought with my biceps for space as I flexed my arm. Quietly a sound of threads tearing as they futilely fought against my lat that stuck out like a wing belonging on a beast from legend. I gasped at the sight and accidentally began to choke myself as my chest puffed up like parade float balloon. Unable to help myself lowered my arm and began to flex my chest, making my pecs dance and put on a show for anyone watching, which at this point was so densely packed with muscle that they may as well make a Z cup size just for me. My shoulders made my shirt like I was smuggling two basketballs that both lead to a mountainous peak which lead to the bottom of my skull rendering me truly neck-less, the only thing ruining this image was my legs that had until now escaped my attention. Swiftly I made my way a leg press and the seated calf machine loading them both with as much weight as they could hold. I want to make sure I don’t neglect a single part of my body so long as this preworkout is in my system but I wanted to do something special for my own amusement and curiosity. With both haste and control I jumped back and forth between the two machines only allowing my increasingly pumped calves time to rest as I walked from one to another. Rep after rep, set after set, I pounded the bastards into compliance like a blacksmith at a forge attacking them at every angle for over half an hour until the pump was so fucking painful I could not take another step and sat down next to a squat rack. As my breath was so ragged it came out in bellows I began to laugh madly at the pain just completely fucking reveling in it. Delicately I stood up, my movements awkward, as I began to pile on plate after plate on the squat rack to finish my calves off completely. Flippantly I tossed another two plates onto the ground for me to stand on as I fought through the pain and the excruciatingly over pumped muscles to begin a standing calf raises using a weight that would have blown even my own squat one rep max out of the water. With every repped they bulged out wider, another vein appeared, and the pain from both the exertion and pump only got worse. Victoriously I slammed the bar back onto the squat rack after set after nonstop set to see what I had accomplished. Immediately I got hard, painfully so. Defiantly they ignored my commands to flex only responding with pain and a tightness that distended my overburdened skin but eventually my calves relented. So overloaded with muscle were they that my stance was forced into an inverse of a cowboy, the size ratio between my calves and upper legs were reverse making me look truly ridiculous but yet, to me, only aroused me further as a large wet spot began to form on the railroad spike bulge jutting from my groin. I got under the bar one last time as I had one last area that demanded my attention. With perfect form I squatted…and squatted…and squatted, the entire time my tights were being pulled forward by my dick which was no less turgid than when I started. Every ascent I was welcomed to my quads bloating up just a bit more, every descent I could feel my hamstrings flex and swell further as my ass bulged even more. Soon my calves were met and then exceeded by the size of my upper legs as they took their rightful place as the reigning monstrosity they were always meant to be. I only stopped when I could no longer push my feet outward to accommodate the muscle just take up every millimeter of possible space on my legs. Awkwardly I racked the weight and waddled out to see what I had made of myself. No doubt came to my mind that while my calves here half again as large as my legs used to be my legs were now half again larger than that; and to both my delight and surprised the pump I had worked so hard for on my upper body hadn’t diminished…in fact if anything it looked like it bloated up even more. I began to go through my pose routine laughing to myself every time I felt stitching on my tights or compression shirt rip and tear or when I wasn’t able to fully complete a pose either due to the pump or the staggering, almost bordering on offensive to the eye, size of my body. Winded from a long, grueling, and fruitful workout I stopped posing and grabbed my gym bag as I made my way to the locker room. Thoughts of how hard it was getting to move or that maybe I overdid it crept up to the forefront of my mind but I had little choice but to try and not think about it as I awkwardly waddled into the locker room, every step more of a challenge than the last. Unceremoniously I dropped my bag in a corner and began to flail around in vain while I attempted to pull off my clothes. I sighed in a mixture of defeat and worry as I heard someone enter the locker room behind me. Very stiffly I turned around as I heard someone begin to speak. “Look man I’m sorry about earlier, it’s just that you just a…fucking beast and I couldn’t help but stare at you.” It was the man earlier from the treadmill. He was looking down at his feet clearly too embarrassed to look me in the eye from his fall earlier. He began to look up as he continued. “I mean I’m sure you’re used to it and all but I know it’s rude as hell to stare at people but I just wanted to say…HOLY FUCK WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?” I quickly raised a finger to my mouth, or tried to at least I should say. My arms were too swollen from whatever the fuck this preworkout is doing to me that it was just an impossible task at this point. “Hey!” I barked at him. “Lower your voice damn it and apology accepted but can you do me a solid here?” He flinched slightly at my outburst and looked at me inquisitively. “I uh…sorta over did it…can you help me take my clothes off?” Immediately he began to give me a look as if he was wondering if this was a trick and simultaneously praying to whatever god that it wasn’t. “I swear to Christ I’m not fucking with you or coming on to you but I seriously need to take a cold shower and cool down but I really fucking overdid it in the gym man.” Like a wild animal accepting food from a human he slowly and very cautiously took a few steps towards me as if to make sure I wasn’t about to hit him or something. “I’m not going to bite man.” I laughed to myself and then muttered under my breath. “I don’t think I could right now if I wanted to anyways.” As his hands neared the hem of my compression shirt he stopped to look at me and check if this was really ok or not, I rolled my eyes and nodded my head for him to get on with it. He shrugged and delicately began to peel it off. I could hear the fabric protest and seams rip even more as he disrobed the shirt which was well past its max capacity. I could feel his hands explore my torso as he tried to take off the shirt without outright destroying the tortured and abused clothing. It ended up being all for nothing though as I could barely raise my arms at this point with how swollen they had grown that he ended up ripping it off the rest of the way. We both let out an involuntary gasp once we were both able to get an unobstructed view of the aberration I had turned into. Every single muscle on my torso simultaneously looked like it was made of the densest granite ridden with innumerous veins and striations but also as if they were inflated like a balloon struggling to not burst. Treadmill guy started to pitch another rather impressive tent in his shorts as I snapped my hand to get his attention. “Hey…uh…what is your name?” I asked while trying to hide my embarrassment at not asking him before asking him to take off my clothes. “Brent.” He responded as he put his hand onto one of my pecs. I snapped again to try and get him to pay attention. “Look I’m flattered but could you please help me take the rest off and maybe buy me dinner before you go any further?” Brent blushed as he took his hand off my chest and started his attempt at taking my tights off. With some patience, and extreme luck that no one walked in on us while he was helping me, Brent was some fucking how able to peel of my tights which were now severely distorted by the ordeal they went through trying to contain my legs. He also helped take of my shoes and socks with little fanfare but that left just one thing piece of clothing left that I still wouldn’t be able to take off in my current state...the posers I wore when I worked out. “Seriously?” Brent asked me in a tone mixed with humor over the audacity of the situation and hope that hope he wasn’t just dreaming. “…yes, seriously. Please.” I responded blushing and trying to avoid eye contact the entire time. “Ok then…” Brent said to reaffirm himself as he put his hands around my waist and pulled down my posers. Immediately my dick, which had softened but still left a very visible wet spot from my earlier excitement on both my posers and tights, popped out of my posers. It uppercut Brent’s jaw as it inflated like a twisting balloon with a mind of its own to the utmost size possible without popping. As Brent started to cuss at the unexpected dick uppercut my now excessively large, and did I mention erect, dick succumbed to gravity as it plopped down onto Brent’s face with the tip resting firmly in the middle of his forehead leaking precum all over his face. Brent stared cross-eyed at his assailant wondering what the hell just hit him and then leaked over him I turned around and wobbled away at a pace that would be ridiculously slow if not for my current predicament spouting a thank you over my shoulder before he could comprehend what happened to him. As I made my way to the showers, praying that maybe a cold shower would help ease my exceedingly pumped up muscle, I could feel a pressure begin to build up in my nuts. Every step the pressure got worse and worse, my dick was being pushed up until it was standing vertically as my balls began to swell and accumulate seed at a painful and worry rate. I got the counter and mirror before the shower room with every one of my erratic steps being followed by a resounding THWACK noise of flesh hitting flesh as my dick bounced around wildly when the pressure was too much. I bent over and grabbed the counter as all of the cum that had been demanding release could wait no more. I stared into my reflection meeting my eyes are I let loose a sound that no human should be able to make, my gaze never broke as I took in what a fucking freak of nature I became as what felt like gallon after gallon of cum erupted out of my dick ten times more powerful than any volcano but just as destructive as I could feel the wall, floor, and my feet be completely doused with my essence. It took me a few minutes to collect myself and catch my breath as I hurried as fast as my overly bloated legs could take me into the showers. Finally I made it into the open showers and fumbled about trying to turn them on in a final attempt to cool my body down or do something…anything at all to reverse or slow whatever the fuck is happening to me. I was on the verge of tears in my frustration that I finally got what I wanted, to be a freak, but it was just too fucking much when I heard Brent’s voice. “Hey man are you alright? I saw your…mess, do you still need some help man?”

Latest pages! http://www.patreon.com/gymjunkiemuscle

Paolo Paolo didn’t know what he was getting himself into. A young bodybuilder of Mexican decent, he had just lost his job last week at the diner he had been working his ass off for the past 2 months. Surprise, surprise being a huge bronze muscle man wasn’t a hiring skill. Fortunately, a friend of his introduced him to a website where men would put on camera shows for cash. On the first night It started awkwardly with just one or two people tuning in to see him in his tank top, but as the views rolled in, and the tips and comments called out to Paolo to show more skin he was more confident to oblige. He started by stretching the top of his tank top until his barrel chest was exposed. The audience went wild with the comment box exploding with demands for more. Paolo took the webcam and brought it closed to his dark black goatee, “Quieres más? Then Paolo gets to hear the tip button ring more, then you get all of this!” He lowered the camera along his pecs and placed it back on the table, the angle gave him a gigantic perspective. “Ding, ding, ding!” the tip counter began to fill as more and more thirsty comments demanded Paolo show them more. “Sí es cierto, I’m your muscle giant, your god!” Paolo grabbed the shirt’s collar and ripped it in half. His stomach was a thick muscle gut, with faint traces of abs covered by a soft layer of fat. Paolo flexed his pecs and ran his fingers between them. “Yeah, you bugs want to be trapped between these peaks? Let these powerful pecs suffocate you with their size!” A pop-up window appeared on his screen. The box read “Private room request for 1000 USD tip.” “Alright peeps, looks like I have a special show to go to, catch yall later, and bring them tips for this giant!” Paolo clicked Accept and the screen opened up a new window. Paolo saw a guy, a huge guy, just as muscular as him with wide shoulder that could block an entire doorframe, big meaty bronze pecs swollen like watermelons, and a hot 4 ab stomach wet with sweat dripping from the protruding nipple of the muscle man. The odd thing was that the guy was wearing a helmet to cover his head. It was made of tinted glass that made it impossible to see who was underneath it. “Hey there, thanks for the big tip.” Paolo said. The man in the helmet waved. "You like giants?" he asked Paolo. "I am a giant." Paolo raised his arms up into a double bicep pose. His thick arms bulged forming twin peaks of muscle. Deep curves and grooves formed around the triceps while branches of veins covered Paolo's forearms. He brough his right arm close to him and gave it a kiss. "Look at all this muscle, all this power. I am freaking huge!" Paolo announced. A deep growl came from Paolo's speakers. Peering down over his pecs he saw the helmet wearing bodybuilder stroking himself while the other hand cupped his own pecs. Paolo grinned, he always found it a turn on when others admired his body. Still, watching someone just as huge as him get off made him feel something stirring in his sweatpants. His soft cock began to harden and elongate. On camera Paolo's tent was instantly visible. The helmet guy began to talk. "I love it when wannabe giants think they are all that. Makes it even more fun when they realize how much fucking smaller, they are next to me." He stood up and waved his dick at the camera, bouncing his pecs as he said, “You want to meet a real giant tiny?” “Tiny? Who was this ass?” thought Paolo. Just as he was about to say something Paolo was silenced by the weirdest thing, the helmeted guy’s thighs were expanding in front of the camera. Paolo leaned in to the screen, the guy's dick was rising higher and higher until it disappeared from view. "Hey, papi! " Paolo couldn't believe what he was seeing, no he wouldn't believe it, "What cheap camera trick you pulling?" "This aint no trick," said the guy, but the screen only showed a pair hairless tanned quad. The man’s voice was deeper than before, like he was the villain of some superhero movie. Paolo fell back to his chair. He looked down and noticed a dark wet patch spreading across his left thigh. Shit, he came from just the helmet guy's growing legs. The camera from the helmet guy’s side shook, he had turned around and was walking away. His ass was the size of two beach balls. He turned around squatted. The man’s helmet returned to view, it’s size somehow adapted to his sudden growth, but Paolo was too stunned by the rest of him to noticed. “Fuck, you’re as wide as the room!” Paolo let out. "I can be much wider than this." He raised his right arm and flexed. The already globe sized arm hardened and rose. Paolo gulped, the snake in his pants stirred again. The giant brought his bicep close and gave his pit a deep sniff. "You want this tiny man?" the giant asked. Paolo nodded. "How badly you want it?" The giant's voise was soft almost like a whisper. "Very, I'll take that whole cock if I have to and more. Let me be a giant like you!" The man in the helmet tilted his head with a deep groan. "Bug you don't know how much I want to stuff all of this in your pretty little mouth, and watch you struggle just to take in the tip." His cock stood erect and grazed the bottom of his cement bag sized pecs. If it could be called a cock, the length of the giant's dick was almost the size of a standing lamp. Paolo's head was heavy, his gut was telling him to just turn the stream off and get some sleep, but his heart wanted more. This was the chance for him to be the muscle giant he always dreamed of even before coming to the States. "...Bring it on then, the moment I become the giant you'll be gagging on my cock!" Confidence surged back into Paolo as he beat his chest like a gorilla. "Ngh, yes! More, you got to want it more!" The giant's cock was thickening, as though responding to Paolo's desire to grow. The giant's head rose while his shoulders widened. His pecs, arms, and legs continued their ascension and packed on layers of muscle. The giant's cock fired a wad of pre-knocking out the camera. Paolo stood up, his boner pointing towards the black screen. Still the sounds were coming through the speakers. "Yes! Yes!" The giant's voice was deeper than before. "Fuck you ceiling, you can't contain me." A thunderous crash came through the speakers with the last words Paolo heard from the giant was, “My dick’s coming for you Paolo!” The earth began to shake and the sounds of people screaming could be heard from outside Paolo’s window. He walked over and peered through the curtains. People were running about or pulled out their phones taking pictures of something to the right of Paolo’s apartment, but he couldn’t see what it was. Forgoing his shirt, the Mexican bodybuilder ran into the streets. The moment he stepped out onto the streets everything was blanketed by darkness. People were running back into their homes or in the opposite direction of where the chaos began. Paolo looked up, and was frozen with fear. Standing behind the nearby glass factory was a wide bronze back wide enough to cover the entire street Paolo stood on. Broken concrete and steel fell from the giant’s back and bounced off his gargantuan ass. Paolo’s brain was screaming at him to run, but he couldn’t budge. The earth shook again as the giant turned, and there the jet black helmet that teased him throughout the cam session was back again, only this time it was the size of the city’s water tank. Gigantic pecs with thick plump nipples pointing downwards combined with the bulging traps obscured the giant’s neck. His muscle gut shook as he took his first step forward. The sounds of metal flattening and breaking echoed loudly from the factory to where Paolo stood. “Paolo! There you are!” The giant’s booming voice sent shivers down Paolo’s spine. He continued to approach the smaller man, he literally kicked his way through the factory, smashing through the orange brick walls like he kicked a piled of dried leaves. Paolo fell from the increasingly violent tremors. A wave of dust washed over Paolo’s half naked body. Paolo gasped for air and coughed loudly, al the while he tried to pull himself back up but the shaking was just too much. Amidst the choking wall of dust Paolo made out a massive object the size of a truck crashing down onto his left side and then another to his right. He looked upwards and was slammed onto the road by a thick what felt like a barrel of glue. Musky, warm glue. Suddenly, Paolo felt thick meaty logs wrapping themselves around his body and lifted him upwards. "Hahahaha, you looked bigger on camera," the loud voice of the giant boomed. "Can't see!" Paolo shouted. "We can't have that, all these muscle needs to be admired!" With his thumb as large as Paolo's entire body the giant wiped away the pre off of his face. Even up-close Paolo couldn't see even a shadow of the giant's face. He tried to struggle free but his years of weightlifting didn't prepare him to break free from a giant's grasp. "Fight all you like little guy, the more you squirm the hornier I get." The helmeted giant clutched his enormous dick and shook off more streams of pre onto the ground below. Paolo was panting heavily, exhausted. "Tired already? You better stay fucking awake. I paid for your ass, and I damn well intend to collect!" The giant tightened his grip, like squeezing a rag doll. Paolo's face flushed red, despite the pressure building around him, he was embarrassed to admit that he had never been more turned on. His cock was begging to be milked. "Well what do we have here?" The giant opened his hand letting Paolo lie face up on the palm of his hand. The giant chuckled as he brought his other hand over Paolo's lower half and ripped the grey sweatpants off of his tiny toy. Paolo's dick sprang free, dripping pre like a fountain. Paolo groaned heavily. "You know what I like about you Paolo? You have the body of a juiced up muscle man, but you still keep the size down there." The giant caressed Paolo's hard dick with his thumb. "How it feel to be so small and powerless?" The giant asked. Paolo grunted and squirmed, he wanted to cum so badly. "If you love being played with do you really call yourself a giant?" The teasing continued, but something snapped in Paolo. With a thunderous roar he yelled, "Fucking hell I want to be a giant! This changes nothing. Make me fucking big like you!" The giant pulled back his thumb and the two exchanged a moment of silence. "That's exactly what I wanted to here." To be continued

Part Six! Please enjoy.

Here are the next couple pages... ??? Sponsorships always welcome: http://www.patreon.com/gymjunkiemuscle

...And Sometimes, I Get What I Want by vertical Finally. <<PART 3: ...And Sometimes, I Watch My Dad Go to Work... --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- My hand trembled as I turned the knob to my father’s bedroom. Careful not to make a sound, I rested my hand against the door and slowly jarred it open. ‘Slowly, slowly,’ I told myself, cringing as if my bones were shattering as the door creaked. Goosepimples flared from my neck downwards, my nerves setting themselves on fire as the fear took hold. I paused in my advance, the only sound I heard, the blood rushing through my veins as my blood pressure skyrocketed. That, and the rhythmic rumbling coming from within the room. He was still sleeping. Thank Go- The only deity in this house was my father. I had only managed to get the door open a crack, but the eerie moonlight filtered in through the large bay window at the far side of the room. The outline of a slumbering giant was in stark relief to the darkness that surrounded him, his enormous silhouette tinted in a supernatural blue light, a halo. I had to see more. I cautiously pushed against the door, the hinges once again protesting my motion. I stop once again, dread setting in as I had to make a choice, my sanity on the precipice – I either stole away back to my room, tail between legs, or push on, risking waking the demigod that slept therein. I had always been a cautious guy... that is, unless it came to lust. And succumbed I did. Bracing myself, I pushed the door open, stepping into the room. The sound it made was pure agony, like nails against a chalkboard. The fear was so intense, I couldn’t move, just standing there, my heart beating out of my chest, my temples throbbing. He was still sleeping. My father’s body took up most of his king-sized bed. He was barely clothed, his shorts, or what must’ve been his shorts, was hiked up to his pelvic girdle, his quads now simply too massive after his latest growth spurt. His torso was barely covered at all, his stringer, a thin wisp on his brutish, musclebull’s physique. The strings barely made it over his protruding chest, dense forests of hair obscuring them. The tube of the shirt was so pathetic next to his overwhelming size, it only came down to the upper portion of abgut. His enormous feet dangled off the end and his shoulders, by the gods, they almost spanned the entirety of the bed. His meaty arms, each larger than my torso, flopped off the sides of the bed. As my senses returned to me, as the adrenaline in my blood simmered, I could hear his deep breaths, like wind moving through a cavern, each exhale like a low moan. His mighty abgut, dotted with 4 visible blocky slabs protruded from his stomach. It rose and fell with each breath he took, ballooning into a rounded mass when he inhaled and ‘chiselling’ into a blocky 4-pack when he exhaled. His bulge, well, it was practically the first time I’ve seen it not in some state of arousal. I took trepid steps around him and almost tripped. An audible squelch rings out through the room and as my eyes adjust to the dim light, I realize I had stepped in another one of my dad’s cum-soaked socks. I had half a mind to take it and huff its contents, but I was already so close to the real thing. I gazed upon my prize. From this new angle, I could see that his balls and cock distended the basket of his shorts and so much that the dense forest of pubes did more to obscure the base of the bullcock growing out of his crotch than the waist of the shorts did. Heck, the band looked ready to snap at a moment’s notice. Even in the lowlight, I could make out the veins dancing along the surface of that epic spire. I was so close. I could already taste the tangy flavour of his seed, my mouth beginning to water. Those balls made so much. The were stuffed so cruelly in their prison. I would free them. I approached the bed, stepping over a pile of discarded clothing. The smell from afar was musky and pungent, but up close, the masculine aroma of testosterone practically created a barrier around him. My eyes watered, but nevertheless, I persisted. I slowly reached out my hand to the band of his shorts and gently tugged at it, hoping to release my prize. My eyes darted between my dad’s prodigious bulge and his rugged, heavily bearded face, searching for any sign of stirring. Beads of sweat formed on my brow, yet it paled in comparison to how much my father produced. His shorts and a-shirt were translucent, his hairs matted to his muscled form. The heat around him was so intense, his sweat giving him an otherworldly sheen in the moonlight. My fingers wrapped around the band of his shorts. Coarse hairs roughed up my knuckles as they dig into the fabric. And I pulled… “Shit,” I huffed under my breath. The band snagged around his waist. The combined girth of his torso and his junk was too great. I gave it another yank, but the elastic band just dug back into my fingers. This was as much as I was going to get out… At least from this angle. I readjust myself, both in position and in my crotch. My loins anticipated this as much as I did. I get closer to the bed and stand by closer to the headboard from the side. From this new vantage point, I was able to get a little further down. My fingers graze across his rough pubes and onto the steely, hot flesh of his god-prick, moist from his crotch-sweat. But it still wasn’t enough. I needed to get both hands around the band and work it down from both sides of his giant babymaker. But his crotch was just too far to reach around to both sides… Unless… I had to get on the bed. I whimpered as I nervously brought a knee up to crawl onto the bed. The shift in weight was incredible. My father was so immense, that even when I crept onto the bed to his side, I almost fell forward onto him. I carefully eyed him as he slept. With one hand and leg, I slowly crept on top of him, my ass resting on top of his abgut – there was no other choice, his girth was so immense the space between my legs was completely filled with his mass as I straddled him like I was riding a horse. I stopped in my motion, looking over my shoulder to see if he was waking, but he just laid there deep in his slumber. I rose inches with each one of his heavy breaths. If he felt any pressure against his abdomen, he didn’t show it, his breathing unimpeded, as if I weighed nothing to him. Hungrily, I looked back at his crotch. From this angle, it looked like a monument, proud and built to impress. I was ready. I grabbed at the band of his shorts with both hands and pushed it down. A smile grew on my face as more and more of his shaft was revealed. I let out a small, giddy laugh as I got about halfway down his resting meat before I felt resistance. My heart beat out of my chest. The portion already revealed was as thick as my arm in circumference, the base covered in hair, like the trunk of a small tree was growing out of his crotch. I gave the band another tug, but it wouldn’t budge any further. I tugged harder… and that was a mistake. “Ungh,” my father grunted from his sleep. I panicked, and my head shot around to look at his face. He gulped in his slumber and thrust his pelvis forward, the fabric of his shorts must’ve hiked its way into his asscrack. Shit. The force he generated with that thrust was so much, I yelped as I was thrown back, my backside meeting his upper abgut, my head wedged underneath his giant, pillow-sized, rounded pecs. I was terrified that that’d wake him for sure. But he just grunted a little. No… more pressing was what was happening to his crotch. When I fell backwards, I slid forward, down his gut such that my legs now straddled the root of my father’s pride. I leaned up, planting my hands onto the bed on both sides of my dad, my forearms brushing up against his fur-covered obliques. I watched in horror as the band dug into his shaft… and slowly contracted, rubbing against the flesh of his cock. I wasn’t sure what did it, my legs rubbing against the base of his cock, or the band of his shorts, or a combination of the two that did it, but my father’s god-cock began to fill with blood. Rapidly. I sat up, leaning forward. The spire of meat before me grew like the plants did in a nature documentary. It bloated with blood, pushing the band of the shorts obscenely until an ungodly tent formed in his crotch. And yet, it did not stop. I winced as the fabric began to fray at the seams where the leg meets the crotch. I wasn’t prepared for what happened next. The crotch of his shorts failed catastrophically. In the blink of an eye, his gargantuan bull-cock ripped right out of his shorts. But, to my horror, as it shot up, it swung further up than I had anticipated, the head of his cock, the head as big as the one perched between my shoulders, slammed right into my face, hurtling me back once again. I whimpered as I came to my senses after the impact. Staring straight forward, I was greeted with the head of his shaft, one which was thicker around than my neck. There it was, the object of my desiring. I reached forward, and tilted my head up, the crown of my head digging into the underside of my father’s gargantuan pectorals, my hair mixing with that of his cleavage. I pulled at his cock as best I could, the length giving great resistance. Shit, even my dad’s cock was stronger than I was! I had to wrap my whole arm around the shaft to bring it closer to my face. It was like wrangling an animal, I’d get it close, but then with each of his thunderous heartbeats, it’d jostle out of my grasp. Finally, I managed to line up my mouth with his cum-slit. With a few gentle rubs from my other hand, a stream of pre-seed oozed out of his length. My eyes rolled back as it the liquid touched my tongue. It was pure ecstatic overload. Fresh from the source, his pre-cum was a watered-down version of the real deal, but it still had such an addicting flavour to it; creamy, salty, briny, powerful. I needed more of it! In desperation to get more of the sweet nectar, the ambrosia of my god, I reached back. My hand searched, my fingers and the palm of my hand grasping blindly at the rough, hairy surface of my father’s titanic chest until they found purchase on my prize. The nipple was thick enough to play in my fingers like a stress-ball. I squeezed and twisted it. The man-beast groaned lowly in his sleep as I twisted harder. Just like a spigot, the flow of his pre-seed increased and I lapped it all up like the horny son I was. I thrusted impudently as I came from the mixture of the taste of my dad’s pre-cum and the sheer power that he contained. How could my meek, soft-spoken father have become such a beast, the paragon of every man’s carnal desire to be bigger, stronger and more virile than every other male? I was enraptured, I was his. I blew a load right there and I still kept humping into my god. The muscle-beast began to breath heavily and short, his arousal mounting. I flit my tongue out and drank in his essence. “Corey,” my father moaned. I wasn’t sure if he was actually awake, sleep-talking, or if it was part of a feverish hallucination. I froze, but he continued to rumble. “Oh, Corey. That’s it, please your daddy…” He was sleep-talking… But who was I to deny a god? Using my arm around his shaft, I began to really use force, using the length of my bicep and forearm to dig into his flesh as I rubbed up against him. My wet crotch, having blown already, pressed into the base of my dad’s cock. I used my sweat-matted body in its entirety to jack off my father. I squeezed my pecs and abs into his length. I rubbed my face against his cockhead like a happy pup, lapping up the river of pre-seed cascading out of his length. I dragged my tongue against the corona, the crown, of the head. His whole body shuddered at that. My other hand was busy assaulting his nipple, flicking my fingers across the nub, eliciting weak, low growls from my sleeping father. He was getting closer, I could tell. The flow of pre-cum was becoming so great, I couldn’t keep up, my face covered in a gooey mess of lubricant. The king of all shafts, the largest prick on any man, my father’s godhood, it shuddered and spasmed randomly. The sound emanating from my father’s chest, his tympanic heartbeat quickened, the sound reverberating through my skull. But before I could have my prize, something happened… I felt my father’s skin grow hot, almost uncomfortably so. It was like pressing my skin up against a hot iron. And rather than see my dad’s cock spurt… I began to see the rest of him seize up. I couldn’t see much, only able to turn my head to the side, but I could feel everything. I felt my legs being pushed uncomfortably. My father’s shaft widened, spreading my thighs apart. But at the same time, his growing, thickening quads pushed my calves inwards as they rested on his bloating balls. My vision was blotted out as the shaft before me thickened even further, obscuring the dim light of the moon from outside. And as it thickened, it also lengthened. “No,” I whimpered as I watched the head of his shaft inch up. It brushed against my nose as it ascended to greater lengths. I desperately tried to get a hold of the cockhead, but the pre-seed had slicked it up so much that I couldn’t keep it in my hand. Soon, the tip was at eye-level, the slit oozing translucent slime all over, blurring my vision. I struggled to wipe the pre-cum out of my eyes and before I knew it, as I looked up, I was staring into the pulled and taut foreskin of my father’s uncut behemoth. I whimpered as I watched the head disappear above my father’s growing pectorals. The only reprieve of this situation was that his shaft, now as thick as my thigh, wasn’t pressing so hard into me anymore, a testament to how thick his pecs had become. At the same time, his giant man-tiddies cast dark shadows over my face, twin globes protruding into my field of vision. With each laboured breath, I felt myself rising less with each inhale. I could feel his abs become less cushioned, the support underneath my back flattening. In my struggle to readjust myself, my hands touched his obliques and serrati and I could feel their definition underneath the thickening man-fuzz sprouting out of every pore. I gulped, realizing that my father was probably more shredded than me at this point. His balls gurgled, the twin pair of soccer ball-sized orbs rolled against the head of my calves as they pulled up, ready to inject their contents into my father and mix with his prostate fluids to create the most delicious nectar on the planet. As they pulled up, the momentum carried into his pelvis, my father thrusting slightly. It took seconds before the base of his cock distended, filled to the brim. The wave of cum travelled up his shaft, the veins on the surface of his shaft bulging as his flesh and skin fought to stay intact from the sheer amount of semen being forced through his urethra. It went from the base, up the shaft past my face and then out of sight. But I could still hear it. A torrent of cum exploded out of the tip, sounding like someone had thrown a balloon filled with viscous fluid against the headboard of the king-sized bed. “Hrrng, huuuh... Ugh?!” my father grunted. I froze as I felt the right side of his body begin to move, his lats shifted, his pectoral fanning out as he brought his hand up to wipe at his face. “What... the?” he moaned. “Ooooh,” he cried, the sound like that of a barn animal, low and sonorous. Another wave was incoming. Slowly, his balls once again pulled up. My father let out a loud whoop as the fluids lingered in his tubing, the beast desperate to get his liquid payload out. Veins writhed all over his body. His massive mitts came forward and grasped around his meaty length, the space made between his shaft and abs had grown large enough that he could glide his hands along his length without even touching me. It was like he didn’t even know I was there. I was just an insignificant gnat compared to him now. I was completely enclosed, no possible way for me to escape anymore, I was trapped between my father’s arms, cock, pecs and abs on all sides – and he didn’t even know. His orgasm was agony, both for him and me. His balls pulled up so slowly, so heavy and bloated with cum that it extended his mind-numbing orgasm, each load taking several seconds. As for me, I could hear, smell and almost taste his cum’s tang in the air, splashing against the headboard of the bed, going to waste. “Unng, feels so good... to grow!” he moaned. His arms tensed, every part of his body fighting for precious blood as he flexed hard. His chest and arms bursted with extra inches, his cock lurching as his orgasm continued. “Oh shit, no way Corey can’t hear this... fuck it!” he bellowed. He let loose, giving out an eardrum-shattering roar, his one hand beating furiously at his meat, the other molesting his protruding nipple, coaxing more and more cum out of his balls and prostate. “MORE!” he cried. He continued to blow load after load, his virility unceasing. The whole bed protested his demands, but his incessant hips bucked up and down to no avail. With a terrific whine, the frame of the bed collapsed, sending the boxspring and mattress to the ground, with me and my dad with it. The impact just sent a jolt through his balls and I swore his loads renewed in their size and length. Finally, after a good three minutes, his balls were no longer pumping, just spasming softly. My father was breathing slowly, groaning lewdly as his hand on his shaft massaged the length, caressed it. I could feel him reach up to wipe his face, the beast returning his hand to his sensitive nipple now with a fresh layer of cum coating it, smearing his seed all over himself like a lotion. “Shit, when’s that boy gonna come check on me? I was so loud,” my dad growled, his voice filled with lust, his hands filled with his own meat. I felt a wave of dread wash over me. “I want to breed him so bad,” he snarled, his hands still roaming up and down his epic frame. I almost mewled but kept it in my throat. There was no telling what he’d do to me if he actually found out I was right there while in his sex-addled stupor. Jesus, if he actually tried to do anything with me, he’d kill me with this thing. Thick as my leg, his shaft would scramble my organs. “Fuck,” he said, his breath heavy. “I’d kill ‘im if I tried,” he whined lowly. Well, no duh. But I didn’t expect what he said next. “But I need more,” he said hungrily. “MORE. Where is that boy… I want him to see me grow,” he rumbled deeply. In the dark, his massive hand shot out to pull at a drawer on the adjacent nightstand, now level with him thanks to bed collapsing. He pulled at it and my eyes lit up as an iridescent glow emanated from inside. He pulled a vial out, a reddish, glowing concoction held within the glass tube. What the hell was this, this definitely wasn’t what he said his doctor was giving him! “Doc says once a week,” Dad reminded himself. “But I can’t wait that long. I need to be bigger… stronger!” He uncorked the vial and I could hear him taking a big gulp. He sat up and I was flung from my hiding spot. Oh shit. I flew forward, knocking into my dad’s epic cock, but it wasn’t enough to stop me. I flew off to the side and landed across his gargantuan quads. “W-what the…?” my dad gulped, his bravado evaporating. He stood, the floor groaning underneath his weight as he stepped towards the light-switch by the entrance to his room. The light burned my eyes as he flicked it on. As I squinted, I could make out a silhouette of his form, blurry at first, but gradually coalescing into the greatest man on the planet. He stood before me in all his grandeur. In the light, and not stuck underneath his cock and pecs, I could finally see what his latest growth spurt had done to him. His arms, my God, they looked like they were hewn from granite. Veins the size of his fingers carved their way across his biceps, feeding his howitzers with blood. His legs were no different, his calves jutted out in stark relief, unable to touch one another due to the sheer size of his quads. Each of those were the size of tree trunks. His balls were slick with ball-sweat and cum, the wiry hairs matted to spheres the size of small watermelons. The shaft growing out of the root of his crotch was almost thicker around than my whole torso at this point and it stretched up to hit my father right in the middle of his chest. I looked at him slightly from the side and my suspicions were confirmed, he had a chiselled six-pack, outlined by swirls of dense fur carpeting his skin. His chest jutted out so much, his chin rested on top, the nipples pointed downwards from all the meat stuffed into his pecs. He looked at me with trepidation, a sudden remorse filled his eyes. His hair, both on his scalp and face had grown in, salt and pepper and dense. His face had intensified, his features more angular. His ears brushed against his traps, the swells of his back muscles almost entombing his head. “Corey?” Dad blubbered. He took a step away from me. This god of muscle, of strength, of pure masculine power incarnate, was afraid of me? It was in this moment I realized my fears had been for naught, despite becoming a giant musclefreak, my father was still the soft, ‘cuddly’ man I’d always known him to be. “Wha- how, where’d you come from? How long w-were you here?” he stammered. “What did you see?” he said under his breath. “Everything,” I replied after a slight pause. “Jesus,” he exclaimed. “Corey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of it. I’d never…” “Dad, it’s…” I was cut off by my father letting loose a terrifying cry of pain. My eyes widened as the veins all across his body began to grow once more. A pained expression crossed his handsome visage as his head shot up once again. Bones and tendons snapped as they reconfigured my father into something greater. He grunted as his head brushed up against the ceiling, popcorn stucco dotting his hair. His traps flared out even further, rising even higher, giving him the appearance of a monstrous tank in human form. His pecs rounded out even further, becoming twin globes that would put the front of a truck to shame. His shoulders spread out even further, the seven bands on the lateral head were clearly visible. His arms bloated with even more muscle, the veins widening as his triceps flare and force his arms out wider as they competed for space with his lats and pecs. His abs tightened, from a chiselled six-pack to an eight-pack, the tight abdominals framed by shredded obliques and serrati. His balls filled, semen roiling inside, jostling the scrotum as they grew with abandon. His penis, so obscenely long, had thickened even more as the giant cockhead drooled pre-seed all over his clavicle. “Son, you have to… look away,” he moaned, barely able to get the words out as his mental faculties shut down from the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through his system. “I’ll tell you everything, just please–” “Dad,” I cooed, resting my hand against his gigantic glute. “I know about everything. The cam sessions, the home gym you built, the cum socks. And I know you’re into guys. I… I am too.” What a way to come out. I smiled coyly at him and he retreated from me. I shot a hand out and touched his shaft, the flesh warm underneath my touch. The beast of a man moaned lowly, a shudder rumbling through his whole body. “You’re so big.” He smiled and leaned over, flexing his arm for me to feel. Its size was incredible, and I found myself creaming my pants as I felt the boulder of muscle. We stood there in silence save for his heavy breathing, staring into each other’s eyes. I pulled away from him and began to peel my clothes off. I knew what he wanted. My gargantuan father whimpered lewdly as he shot a massive wad of pre-seed as I took off my shirt, exposing my gym-earned midsection, a solid six-pack for his viewing pleasure. I bounced my pecs, their mass casting a small shadow onto my abs. It was nothing compared to my father’s assets, but from his reaction he enjoyed it immensely. I smirked as I took off my pants, revealing nicely muscled thighs and calves. My dad was busy double fisting his monolith of a penis, groaning and bellowing like a bull. I fished out my 7” prick and stroked it, the cum from my recent ejaculation slicking up my fingers. My father’s eyes grew half-lidded as he bit his lower lip. “See something you like?” I asked coyly. My father nodded sheepishly, a red blush crossing his strong, proud cheeks. Heh, he was a monster of muscle and yet he was just like all the other curious guys I’d deflowered in freshman year. “I do too,” I growled. I approached him, once again taking his shaft in my hands. I knew what I wanted. I pulled as his penis, trying to angle it down so that I’d have access to the cockhead. But try as I might, his cock was stronger than my entire body. My father, bless his soul, helped, using a massive paw to push his own shaft down, the skin pulling taut around his pelvis. Drool pooled at the corners of my mouth. After all this time, I finally had access to what I wanted. I looked up at my dad, a warm smile on his face, an expression as if to say, ‘go on.’ I walked around, feet from my father’s body, and grasped at the knob of his shaft. Dad momentarily slipped his grip on his shaft, losing control for a brief moment as my hand came in contact with the most sensitive part of his engorged organ. Pre-cum splattered in arcane patterns onto the ground as the shaft bobbed wildly like an uncaged animal. “Sorry, Cor,” he whimpered, looking at me with the expectant look of an injured animal. He pushed his shaft back down, grunting, braying like a beast of burden. I stared at the cum-slit, my mouth watering. Its lips were as big as mine. But then I looked up at my dad’s face, marred with a nervous expression. I knew what I wanted. I drew closer to him and place both of my hands on his shaft, hoisting myself up onto his length and straddling it like a pack-beast. My dad gave me a goofy grin and with a wink, flexed his arms down and chest out. My entire field of vision was swallowed by this man. He flexed his pelvic floor and sent me jostling into the air, only to be caught in his paws as he brought me over his pectoral shelf. I wrapped my hands around his traps, pulling myself closer to his handsome face. As my cheek brushed against his, his breath went ragged. The curls of his beard tickled me as our lips met and parted. Pure waves of ecstasy washed over me, and from the increased splash of pre-seed gushing out of my father’s prick against my backside, it washed over him as well. As he pulled away, his eyes fluttered, much like the butterflies in my stomach. He looked at me and then at the side. I turned to look at what he was staring at. There were still 11 red glowing vials sticking out of his night-table. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- <<PART 3: ...And Sometimes, I Watch My Dad Go to Work... The end.

The final chapter of this one folks. Hope you enjoy. - Frank Pleasure Growth 10 by F_R_Eaky Part 1: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1116-pleasure-growth/ Part 2: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1117-pleasure-growth-part-2/ Part 3: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1118-pleasure-growth-part-3/ Part 4: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1256-pleasure-growth-part-4/ Part 5: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1257-pleasure-growth-part-5/ Part 6: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1389-pleasure-growth-6/ Part 7: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1489-pleasure-growth-part-7/ Part 8: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1551-pleasure-growth-part-8/ Part 9: http://muscle-growth.org/topic/1719-pleasure-growth-part-9/ Aaron walked around slightly in a daze. His memory was returning to him. Thoughts of his brothers, mom & dad, and Zeke were flooding his mind. This was also flooding his mind with emotions of love for Zeke, fear for what was happening to hia body, pleasure because it felt so good to be so be and strong and healthy. A couple times he stumbled, due to his mind wandering off and trying to make sense of what was happening to him, what was going to happen, was it done, what will be done afterwards? But the loud thumping sound his feet made reminded him of some of his older brothers, how they stomped around the house, or so it seemed, after their growth spurts and then filling out after joining the football team. The each loved it when they could make the floor shake and the thump of their feet reverb across the house. When Zeke came to work for them, he blended right on in, making large thumping sounds. "But now..." thought Aaron to himself... "Now... I can out thump them all tip-toeing. I make it reverb across a state!" The thought of how big he was came over him. The thought about how Zeke seemed to really love his new larger boyfriend. The feeling began to get a hold of Aaron. "No! I gotta stop... Can't think anymore like that. Can't grow.... but it feels sooooo good when and after I do...." Suddenly Aaron heard what sounded like hundreds of tiny elf or smurf like voices, and he looked down to see where he was and what was making the noise. There beneath his feet was a very large crowd of people, stands, and somekind of field. Not being able to clearly see it from his height, Aaron backed up a bit and knelt down, putting his head almost on the ground. Looking at everyone as if they were legos, or a miniature set of pieces, he began to notice several groups of things on the field: a semi with a large rope around it's bumper or axel; set of marbles made out of stone....no not marbles, large balls like a medicine ball and getting larger, all along some posts of some kind; a series of tractor tires; some very large posts; and several other items grouped together. Aaron then looked over at a set of small tents and noticed there were several men; some were in polos with stop watches and clip boards while the others were in t-shirts, tank tops, underarmor, and kilts. The men in kilts were a bit taller and quite a bit bulkier than the men in the polos. "Hey.... I know what this is.....You all are doing a strongest man competition here aren'cha?" Aaron said with a smile, his face beaming. "Didn't mean to interupt..." and then Aaron's smile turned into a smirk. "...but since I have..." Aaron moved his hand and grabbed the rope attached to the semi between his thumb and forefinger. "Hmmm don't want to pull this too tight. Might send the semi and trailer flying through the air and we don't want that!" And moving his hand and then his arm slowly, Aaron pulled the Semi and loaded trailer with ease all the way across the specific drive in about a minute. "Hahahahaa... you guys normally need to use your whole body to move that and it take you like five to ten minutes! What else do we have?" Now moving over to the large round stones, again with his fore finger and thumb, Aaron picked up each stone and after bending over to eyeball it as close as he could, place each stone on the large pedestal of which it was to go on top. It took him a few minutes to do this, but only because to him it was like threading a needle. "That was quick...and fun.... next! Oh yeah... got to flip those monster tires don't we?" Aaron leaned his body over put his finger and against one of the tractor tires and gave it a small flip. His small flip sent it hundreds of feet into the air, to have it come down and bounce out of control. Luckily it was rolling away from the crowd out into the dessert. "Whoops..." Aaron then proceeded to flip over all the tires using his thumb in a matter of mere minutes. Quickly made short work of all the strength tests he could find, he announced that he was disqualified from the bar bending as when he went to bend them he always did it too fast and they simply snapped in half. The crowd stood there in awe at this slightly over 500 foot tall extreme bodybuilder and all the stregnth acts were absolutely nothing to him. Course many looked because not only was his body the build of a God, but they couldn't but help see his huge porn like, in giant sized endowment, even though it was flaccid. Aaron turned a surveyed everything he had done, looking down at the stack of large posts, the only thing he had left to do. "The last bit of the competition....what were these things called? Caspers...capers... no cabers...the caber toss!" And Aaron picked one up with his hand, it not even looking like a baton, drum majorette nor conductor type in his overly sized hands. "Usually you have to cup your hands together and balance this thing near your crotch don't you?" Aaron mimic the movement with one of the gigantic posts and looked down. "Ha.... is this thing is even the size of my cock! Sorry, ladies. Well, guess sorry everyone... I'm so big I don't have any clothes to fit! hahaha...." Feeling a rush of power or adrenaline hit him... he laughed harder, and began to flex his upper arms doing a knelt double biceps pose, after tossing the caber, nonchelantly, nearly into the next county. Then he picked up a caber and snapped it in two. Picking up another caber he held it in his palm and moved it next to his cock. "HA! It's not even as long as my prick flaccid!" And he began to rub the caber along side of his cock trying to see how and were it even measured when suddenly his cock began to become erect and suddenly ooze and swell even longer. "Oh yeah... it's becoming erect! Let's see how much my cock towers over this caber when it's fully hard!" But more than an erection was filling Aaron, another of the growth spurts was coming in full force effect. Aaron moaned and then slightly screamed in pleasure as his cock errupted further and further out from his body becoming veiny and engorged, thick and solid with blood, looking extremely long even for his giant size. But his body too, began to lengthen and increase in size. The nails digging up dirt and his toes using that to gouge out trenches on the field, his feet widened and lengthened stretch more and more out. His knees began pushing up small rolls then mounds and finally mountains of dirt and they pushed and grew along the field. His head rising even higher and higher, his shoulders and back broaden wider and wider. As he grew taller and taller! But the weight of him was increasing at a phenominal rate. Not only was he getting heavier proportionately due to his extreme height, but he was packing on more and more muscle meat as the feeling over took him! Shoulders were pushing against traps. Traps were mounding up higher and higher threatening to engulf his neck, but it too grew taller and thicker pushing back until it seemed Aaron's head was encased in a helmet of muscle. His arms got fuller and fuller, thicker and harder, denser and stronger fighting for room the bis with the fore arms, the fore arms and bis along with the tris fighting against the lats and struggling for room against the chest. Aaron had started stroking his cock, but his arms were getting pushed so far up he could barely get his finger tips to touch his cock. He even tried to lick his prick head, but desite it having grown long enough, his chest simply pushed it too far away and kept his head from bending forward. His thighs and calves blew up even thicker as well, sending him into a standing kneeling position as they were now so thick he couldn't sit back on his calves and shins. The sensation stopped and Aaron let out a mighty roar that could be heard several counties, perhaps a state over. People ran screaming out of the stands, fighting one another to get out and make it to their cars. Some of those cars would never run again. Hitting a climax, Aaron managed one last stroke of his cock and erupted a full fledged gyser of cum that went soaring for several hundred feet and landed on the far side of the parking lot, sending cars careening down a torrent of cum that flowed like a river for about a mile out into the dessert. ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZOOM! ZOOM! ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZOOM! ZOOM! ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZOOM! ZOOM! ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZOOM! ZOOM! ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZOOM! ZOOM! ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZOOM! ZOOM! "Angel Three to Base, can you read us over?" "Copy that Angel Three. Do you have a sighting of Lumberjack?" "Boy do we ever, Major. We just did the tactical fly by... report from scanners coming in now...We'll do another pass anGOOODLORD ALMIGHTY!" "Come in, Angel Three. What do you see. Do you have confirmation of the 500 foot Lumberjack?" "Negative, Major. Not because we don't see him, but because he's grown...again! Computer analysis shows him to be one-thousand, twenty nine feet tall." "One thou....repeat, Angel Three. Did you say he was just slightly over one-thousand feet tall?" "Correct, Major. We are going to have to rethink operation Bunyan Down. I don't think what we have is going to work." "This is Angel Five approaching target for sand stinger." "Negative. Angel Five, Hanson, do not, repeat DO NOT FIRE!" But Angel Five had already gone ahead with the discussed plan. He zoomed close and let rip with a missle that had been turned into a giant size hypodermic needle, for all intents and purposes. "Angel Four and Angel Six behind ready with Buyan Bolo." "Negative. NEGATIVE. ABORT ABORT ABORT! Flywheel and Corkscrew get yourselfs out of there. He's grown, the old parameters are now too close!" The missle struck almost true, hitting Aaron just below his buttocks. It was exceptionally painful, it felt more like a large mosquito bit to Aaron than anything else, but it was enough of a shock to cause the typical knee jerk reaction: quickly pivoting his torso around, he swug his hand out high, fast, and hard to smack the region where the mosquito stuck. KRANG! Angel Four was accidentally back handed. Smacked but good and set soaring over the horizon. Angel Six was in it's path of trajectory and had to do some pretty fancy maneuvers to get out of the way fast and safely. It still sent him into a corkscrew which he nearly didn't get pulled out of, and cost him his lunch, which he was none to happy about. He had to fly away to get his air hose for his mask cleaned out. Aaron feeling what felt like a hot wheels die cast car hit his hand, moved his gaze directly in front of him and saw some of the other planes zooming at him or off to the side. "Oh! Oh! The fly boys are at it again are you?" Aaron stumbled a little bit feeling slightly dizzy. Shaking it off, a look of anger came over his face. "Did... did.... DID YOU DRUG ME! WHAT THE FUCK! Well, it's not enough you toy soilders! I'm even bigger and stronger than I was when we met earlier!" Picking up a couple of cabers he tossed them through the air. Angel Five saw the approach of the first and veered out of its way, but didn't expect the arrival of the second one so soon or higher than the last. KER-RUNCH! It hit and went through dead center of his tail section. Spinning out of countrol, he opened the hatch and waited as long as he could to see if the plane would stop rolling or slow down in revolutions before he hit the eject button. "STINGER! Angel Three to Base. Lumberjack has taken out Angels Four, Five, and Six." "We counted on this sort of thing. Back up is already on the way." But Aaron, having watched many a military movie when growing up and hearing his dad talk about campaigns, figured it would be more than the fly boys arriving. Picking up the bars, the stones, the pillars, the semi, the bars, the bleachers, and everything else on the field he began to hurl them in the direction from which the airplanes had arrived. One helicopter taken down by one of the stone balls. One tank ground to a halt as a bar was thrown with such force it pierced the tank just above the wheels but under the treds, and causes that set of treads to break free, leaving the tank only able to move in circles. After several vehicles were struck and many incapacitated by the damage, the order for a dead stop came. They sat there for a while from a distance while Aaron stood looking out towards them. Time its self seemed to suddenly hang longer and harder than Aaron's cock did. Finally there was the sound of explosions as many of the far ranging vehicles let loose a barrage of fire. However, Aaron had begun walking towards them just as they pulled the triggers, and hearing the shots began to run and then slam down sideways onto the ground and start rolling to where the men were. It meant most of the shots missed him, and the shockwave from his thud to the earth sent most of the vehicles bouncing upward and unable to immediately respond when told to fire once more. Rolling over the first line of vehicles, crushing them severely, Aaron rolled into a kneeling position, one knee down, the other up, and took a look around. Raising his hand he brought it down on a couple of vehicles and just smooshed them into the earth. His other hand lead his arm to sweep away another section of vehicles, looking like a conquerer gone mad while viewing a map of where his enemies were and simply sweeping them off. "I wasn't going to hurt anyone, you pricks....but you just had to try and bring me down....DIDN'T YOU?!? Now I'm three four times the size I was. I'm a fucking titan now! I am a colossal titan! My muscles are so fucking huge I could take down a mountain, and you think you're going to do something to me?! AAAAAAARRRRGH!" Picking up tanks left and right, hurling them with easy towards oncoming helicopters and planes. He was standing in the middle of them, so they couldn't fire as often as they would like or bomb the place as they'd take out their own. He chucked a tank. "HAHAHAHA FEEL THE POWER!" He swated a helicopter. "SEE THE STRENGTH!" He scooted platoons of soldiers over with his bare foot. "WITNESS THE SHEER SIZE!" "You fuckers thought you could just bully your way to me and take me. HA! and again I say HA!" and he raised his foot and brought it down hard upon the earth, sending shockwaves throughout several states and down to Mexico. Those on their feet or in lighter vehicles like jeeps were tossed and jostled about like beans on a paper plate being thumped from underneath. Picking up a tank he turned it upside, just a few feet above the ground. "Out!.... GET OUT OF THE TANK NOW!" The men inside finally opened up the hatch, battered and bleeding from being shaken inside the tank so violently. Aaron placed the tank up to his cock, the open hatch touching its head. "I'm so fucking big, this hole doesn't even fit around my cock!" One handed, Aaron began to crush the tank sending fuel and oil and such streaming down his hands. At that moment, the fact that he was so huge he could decimate an entrie army single handedly without weapons pleased him very much. He felt like he was the ultimate man. He knew he was an alpha male. He knew he was THE ALPHA MALE! His cock began to stir and he took his finger tips and fumbled for his cock, using the oil and gas as lube and began to stroke, stroke, stroke, as the feeling began to wash over him. "Oooooooooohhhh hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha you've not seen anything yet!" Once again, his body just ballooned out, soared up, stretched beyond, inflated, bullked, hulked, he just simply grew...and Grew.....and GREW.....and GREEEEEEEEEEEEEEW! In mere minutes as he stood up, his feet exploded in length and width, pushing jeeps, tanks, fuel cars, rocks, sand, rock ridges out, over, away for several field lengths. Some men tried to get out and make a run for it, but were crushed by the moving onslaught of toes they couldn't even begin to stand as tall as and they were only getting bigger and reaching out farther. Aarons body shot up taller and taller and taller. There were loud cracks and pops accompanied by moans and groans from Aaron as his shoulder morphed and mutated becoming inhumanly wide and taking on that much more muscle. His chest popped and inflated, ballooned, barrelled until it hung down to almost his second set of abs and nearly as wide as his shoulders, his arms were so huge and thick with muscle he was damn near impossible for him to bend them, so too were his legs. He just grew and grew till he seemed like he was nearly as wide as he was tall, one hundred percent pure muscle and maybe, just maybe an ounce of fat. He cast a shadow over the dessert that stretched for miles, some folks thought it was an early setting sun and feared the world was coming to an end. Stroking and pumping like mad, as best he could, Aaron laughed as he felt himself swell and grow with even more power, size, and strength. He enjoyed it even more when that size hit his cock and balls and he felt how huge and heavy they were. He was definitely a man now, with nads and cock to show it. He felt his skin itch just slightly as the hair that had started coming in a few growth spurts ago came in even thicker all over his face, chest, part of his upper arms, his under arms, forearms, abs, crotch, and legs, as well as growing long enough on his head to come down to his shoulders. "AAAH! OOOH!" Feeling himself getting ready to climax once more Aaron leaned back as far as he could, pointed his cock down as best as he could parallel to the ground and with a finally stroke released a load worse than any tsunami mankind has ever seen. "AAAAAAAAWWWWAAAAAAARRRRRRUUUUUUUUUUUUUAAAAAHHHHRRRRRRGGGGGH!" Most of the army in the center of the plain were drowned in a torrent of cum. Many others were wounded by vehicles moving fast in its current and crushed or pinned by those vehicles. The other men had to deal with a sudden microburst of a sandstorm, for upon his release, Aaron dug his free hand deep into the earth and threw a huge clod of sand in their direction. Burried, swamped, swept away, when Aaron came to out of his ecstacy stupor, he stood up and proceeded to head in the direction the army came from. He knew there had to be at least a base, if not a town, that he could reach and then inquire which direction to go from there. CCCCRRRRRCK "Major Jenkins to Base, copy, over?" "This is General Hargendorff, Major. We read you, over." "Lumberjack is on the move, the entire combative force has been wiped out. He complained we came after him and after seeing the devistation he caused, my adivce would be to let sleeping giants lie." "Major are you saying everyone was wiped out?" "Yes sir. He was bigger than we anticipate from our last fight, and he grew right in the middle of our current fight. We won't have a chance, sir." "How big are we talking major?" "General, my jeep is at the bottom of a twenty foot crater that is his footprint. I tried to follow him and ran into this. The scanner on my jeep got pretty banged up, but if it isn't a computer glitch, we're in big trouble." "Again, major, how big?" "Approximately two-thousand fifty feet big, General." ***************************************************************************** Night fell, and soon Aaron was looking down the horizon to decide which way to go. The sun having set, he noticed something like a sunset off in the distance and knew it must be a town of some size. He began to walk towards it. Reaching it within a few minutes, he began to have an immediate affect: people in their cars staring up at the giant suddenly coming into view, forgetting to look at the road ahead of them and slam right into the car before them. The city had lights, lots of lights. Lots of signs, too. Dozens of signs advertising hotels, casinos, diners, Aaron had managed to find Las Vegas. People, police, managers everywhere began to scream and panic as they felt what they thought was an earthquake after exceptionally loud booms. Their buildings shaking, some experiencing cracking, they came pouring outside to get to safety. Aaron had decided to walk down the main road and was completely destroying it with even the lightest of his steps. He was thinking about smiling, no, smirking and calling out to these people, taunting them for being so afraid of his stature and power, but admist the screams and cries of panic, he began to hear a faint sound of cheers and horns honking. Turning the direction of the cheers, Aaron walked down to the end of the strip to one hotel and convention center. Once there he heard the cheers turn into some kind of chant. "EX!....EX!....EX!.....EX!.....EX!...EX!" "I'm sorry, folks. I'm so tall, I can't hardly even hear you. I don't know what you're saying, but I appreaciate the cheerful sound you are making towards me." Suddenly the large marquee started flashing widly, all out of control. Aaron knelt down to look at it, thining he must have cause something to rupture or split apart in the sign. But when he got there, the sign began to flash. "LOOK AT HOTEL MARQUEE!!" Aaron turned his head towards the entrance of the hotel and there above the doors was a large sign that read: "WECLOME GUESTS OF MACROCON!" Aaron turned back to the grop of people and said, "Macrocon? What's Macrocon?" The convention center marquee flashed again and suddenly the words scrolled up, "IT'S A CONVENTION OF MACROPHILIA LOVERS" "Macrophilia lovers? What is macrophilia?" "LIKE, LUST, LOVE OF ALL THINGS GIGANTIC!" With that post on the marquee there was a huge cheer from the crowd with flashing of light and honking of horns. "So you guys love things gigantic?" flash flash flash "YES, WE ALSO LOVE THINGS EXTREMELY WELL BUILT.....AND HUNG!" More cheers came from the crowd. "Well, little people. I am definitely all that. Nice to make all of your acquaintances. Wish I could do something for you." Again the crowd began to chant, "EX!..EX!....EX!....EX!.....EX!....EX!...." and just before Aaron was ready to ask them again what they were chanting, the convention marquee flashed, "FLEX! FLEX! FLEX! FLEX! FLEX! FLEX! FLEX!" "Ohhh now I gotcha! You wanna see all this muscle in action?" CHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-WHISTLES----EEEEEEEEEEEE-HONK HONK-EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER "Well, alright! HOOMMPPPPPHHHHH" And the crowd proceeded to go wild. Aaron stood up and did a front double biceps pose, then moved into a lat spread. Next moving into a side chest, followed by a side triceps, and then a rear double biceps. Aaron was going through the motions he'd seen on many a bodybuilding competition he had jerked to when in high school and his parents and siblings were away. He wasn't sure if he was doing them correctly, but the crowd was cheers and applauding so loudly he knew many of them had to be going hoarse. He moved into a rear lat spread, then a hands overhead abdominal display, followed by obliques and intercostels display, then a forward quad display of first the right and then the left leg, then turned and rose one leg up on the ball of his foot to show off his calve development. He then faced forward again and raised his hands up high in the victory pose and while everyone cheered massively over that, he brought his arms down in the most massive most muscular-crab shot pose anyone has ever seen a bodybuilder perform. The crowd went ballistic. Several people fainted, several men came on the spot from the first pose, in the middle, or most definitely at the end with the most muscular. The crowd began to run at him and he wasn't sure what to do, he started to walk backwards a bit when suddenly the sign flashed: "WALK TO YOUR LEFT AND SIT DOWN ON THE BUILDING!" Surprised, Aaron stuttered, "I...I...I can't do that? I'll crush your building." "NOT OUR BUILDING AND WE DON'T CARE! WE WANT TO WORSHIP YOU!" Aaron smiled at those words and turn and walked to the building and began to sit down upon it. Using all his leg muscles to support himself on the way down, so he didn't just instantly collapse and sit, Aaron sat and went through the twenty-fifth floor....twenty-fourth...third...second...first...twentieth....boom Boom BOOOM. It finally stopped on the seventeenth floor and poor Aaron felt like he was sitting in the lowest sitting adorandack chair in the world. Settiling in he smiled down at the people and said, "Alright I'm going to get comfortable and extend my legs and feet. Becareful and move out of the way now.... .... .... .... ready? Here I go." Aaron extended his feet and then let them rest, where upon the people of the macro convention began to use anything they could to climb up on top of his feet. They began using ropes, cherry pickers, water jet packs in the convention center marquee pool... you name it they used it to climb up on top of his feet and began to spread out and fall down on top of them and rub him, and stroke him, and stroke his ankles and dance through the hair, and have picnics and wine and beer, and make love on top of him. Suddenly the marquee flashed again: "OH GREAT ONE, WHAT IS YOUR NAME?" "My name? My name is Aaron, lil' folk." "WE ARE WORSHIPPING YOU. WE WISH TO SEE HOW MANLY AND VIRILE YOU ARE.... IF THAT IS OK.... WOULD YOU JACK OFF FOR US?" Aaron tillted his head back, in as much as his traps and shoulders would let him, and laughed heartily. He reached for his cock, fumble feeling for it, for in its flaccid state he couldn't actually see it at all underneath his pecs. Stroking his schlong, Aaron closed his eyes and began to feel his firm strokes, as well as all the tiny strokes on his feet and ankles by his admiring crowd. Meanwhile out on the street a car pulled up and came to a screeching halt. The people inside had seen the way convention goers were communicating with Aaron and man in what appeared to be climbing gear had rushed inside the building. After a few minutes he ran to one of the feet of Aaron and got assistance up from several of the people. Whispers and comments began to spread from one convention goer to another and soon as the tall, fairly well built man in climbing gear began to run for the base of the ankles, the crowd began to chant: "GO! ...GO!....GO!....GO!..." Aaron felt a slight sting near his ankle, but resisted the impulse to perform a knee jerk reaction as that would send his new found followers flying through the air to land a couple hundred feet to the street or parking lot. Feeling the sharp tiny pains again he looked down to see this loan figure climb up him and knew he must be wearing logging boots or telephone pole boots and gloves, to climb up effortlessly. He began to get annoyed at the audacity of some individually just climbing up him without permission. "Alright, little man, who dares to just climb up me without my permission?!" Suddenly the marquee flashed: "OH GREAT, AARON. DO NOT SWAT THE MAN! WE HAVE A SURPISE FOR YOU!......" Suddenly there was a picture being run on the marquee, just large enough for Aaron to see. "Hello, my love. Aaron, it's me, Zeke. I have been following you, trying to catch up with you since the you ran away from your home. I was so worried about you... even more worried now that you've grown and grown and grown. But no matter how big you are. You are not a freak to me. You are invincibly beautiful and I still love you, more than ever. We may not be able to have a relationship like you wanted...and the cure Sanjay I have to stop this, well is now to late, but I can at least help you past this last hurdle to become the ultimate man, for I love you so much. I'm going to help jack you off, and then I will reside forever in your cock, to always help jack you off when you feel aroused. Love you." The crowd cheered their approval and a live picture came up on screen of Zeke making his ascent past Aaron's knee. Aaron became misty eyed, and cried a little. "I love you too, Zeke!" and with that he waited until Zeke had made the climb across his thigh, to his crotch, and then grabed a hold of his prick so it would be steady and not bounce as Zeke walked it's entire breathtaking length. Once there, Zeke, clamped into place to plates on either side of Aaron's piss slit, each one holding a bungee chord attached to a harness. Zeke stepped into the harness and made a motion signally that Aaron should raise his pecker up. As Aaron did so, Zeke walked to the top of the head, and then jumped as hard as he could into and down through the piss slit. Down down down he plummeted through the inside of Aaron's cock. where upon the slowing of motion and just before the return ride up, Zeke put on some weird kind of gloves, boots, and helmet made of a very slick and gooey material. As he was snapped back up he stuck his arms and legs out to rub the inner wall of Aaron's prick. Aaron sat up suddenly moaning loudly as he felt that inner rub travel down his cock, across his balls, over his asshole, up his buttocks, around his waist, up his abs, over his nipples, up his throat, until finally settling in his lower lip. "OOOOH MOTHER FUCK!" The crowd cheered madly and began to throw themselves, every single one of them, prostrate upon Aaron's massive feet. Aaron began to stroke harder and longer his might dong, while Zeke kept bouncing and stroking on the inside of it. Aaron closed his eyes and began to picture it was Zeke, his size giving him a blow job and the words escaped out of his mouth, "Oooooh Zeeeeeeke." Suddenly his cock lurched forward. No it just suddenly grew. Wham another few feet longer. WHUMP! And yet again. Aaron rolled his eyes in the back of his head over this feeling. The sound of breaking concrete and asphalt, crushing metal and car horns filled the air. The hotel that Aaron sat on began to moan and groan and give way all the way to the first floor. Aaron was once again growing... Growing....GROWING.... GROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWING! His last and final spurt. The feet grew into might support base slabs of manly meat. His legs just got longer and longer and longer pushing those feet past the marquee and into the convention cener. His head had torso rose higher and higher and higher still into the dark night sky. Every muscle fiber on his body twitched and stretched, split and grew, swelled and pumped, become stronger and denser.... Aaron would be able to look at the hulk, even if just as tall as he was and proclaim him, "puny hulk!" His biceps actually were the size of mountain tops. His chest barrels and spread out as far as large desset mesas and plateaus. His thighs became as big as redwoods, several of them tied together! Every breath, every motion, every twitch sent a flurry of bunching and contracting of the largest, most mounding and swollen muscles ever seen on a human body of any size. He just simply grew and grew and grew..... Finally Aaron couldn't take it anymore his growing, inflating balls, suddenly pulled back up inside him once more while his cock seemed to become that much larger, extend that much further, and his ass rose up and clinched tightly. "HOOOOOOOOOUWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Zeke heard the mighty roar of his lover even from inside his lover's dick. Looking down he closed his surprised eyes and smiled, waiting for the massive torrent to hit him. He thought to himself, "Nobody else will ever say they went 'white water rapids' rafting like I have." The stream hit him and carried him right on out of Aaron's prick. The blast so powerful, the clamps didn't even hold Zeke in place for one second. In an instant Zeke was gone soaring over the top of Las Vegas landing miles away where the gigantic lake sized pool of cum would splatter. Aaron smiled and said a very hushed thank you to all his devotees, rolled his eyes back into his head, and passed out into a very heavy sleep. *************************************************************************** "Robert, I'm at the scene of the Titanic Hotel and Convention center where the young man, now giant, Aaron Shelley, lays in a very deep sleep after having caused massive amounts of destruction and devestation from pleasuring himself. We've been trying to get witness statements of how horrible this has been, but all we can find are people who have become, well, devotees and worshipers of this incredible young man. It seems that no one here at the hotel mined all this devestation as they belong to subset of people who love extremely gigantic men. They love men, or women, who are colossal in stature, with genitalia or breasts like a porn star, and muscles so strong and huge the incredible hulk, hercules, and superman would have problems living up to this paragon of physiques. "The lastest reports from the military have come back and what they confirm is astounding. As you can see from this panoramic shot, most of Aaron's torso covers the Ambassdor Hotel next door to the convention center. That's most of Aaron's torso. His shoulders and head extend past the foundations of the hotel, the hotel itself lies in ruins beneath him. Aaron's legs on the other hand stretch all the way across the length and width of the parking lot, even beyond in width, and into and nearly through the convention center itself. This is because, according to the military, Mr. Shelley stands four-thousand one-hundred and one feet tall. Scientists around the globe are trying to figure out exactly how much, with all his muscle mass he weighs, what kind of devestation this could do to the planet, as well as figure out how Aaron was able to grow this big, which should be a medical impossiblity. We further more must figure out how he's going to eat, what he's goint ea.....Oh! There's a tremor here, Robert!" "An earthquake, Lucy?" "I'm not sure... there are several tremors and they're getting stronger. Everyone is looking to Aaron, but he's still sound alseep. The ground is shaking horrifically. I'm asking our camera man to get down on his knees as I joing him and hope to keep reporting.... This is really quite difficult to keep standing even on my knees. The thuds or explosions are getting louder, almost like they're coming closer. Wait... there are several people screaming.... the convention goes are cheering, some of them have binoculars and see something on the horizon. There is a large something coming this way... OH MY GOD! It's another man... I mean another giant! Another colossal man and he looks to be the same size as Aaron here. It's like... It's like the invasion of the Titans or something from Greek Mythology. He looks confused... no wait he's looking this way and smiling... He's coming our direction!" "AAAAARRON! Aaron, wake up! It's Zeke! It's Zeke, baby. The formula spread to me with instant affects. Now we can really be together." "The raven haired giant is kneeling next to Aaron. Aaron is waking up and he looks surprised, shocked, now he's smiling. They're embracing... they're kissing. These convention goers are cheering like made like it's the Second Coming or something. And now... now..... OH MY GOD THE SIZE OF THEIR DICKS! Oh! I'm sorry, Robert, viewing audience... it's just the two giants have just become aroused and it appears... it they are... they are going to... OH THAT BULDING! Oh... uhm....back to you, Robert."

First time posting content on this forum... Thad this story floating around on other sites for a few years now. It’s still relatively short because I don’t often have the motivation to WRITE erotica, if you know what I mean CH. 1 "Graaarrr, I need to grow BIGGGEERR!" CLASH. Two 500 lbs dumbbells flew across the fully stocked basement gym, cracking the concrete walls. "Get in here NOW babe," bellows Meghan as she slowly raises her massive 750 lbs muscled bulk off a now busted bench. Her husband Nate rushes down the reinforced concrete and steel staircase, carrying a tray of hypodermic needles. Steroids. Lots and lots of steroids. No sooner did he reach his wife, when she flexed a massive most muscular pose, roaring like a lioness as her enormous upper body exploded, her mass swelling to three times it's 'relaxed' state. Meghan's outburst had its desired effect, as her husband's erection grew. "Hurry up and inject me Natey poo, your giga-huge muscle monster of a wife needs her juice if she wants to GROW even more MASSSIVVEEE!" Nate grins, and begins the injections, one in each muscle group. As the highest quality anabolic drugs flood his wife's blood stream, Nate asks, "Do you think you've gained any inches on your arms since earlier?" Turning to the full length mirror behind her, the former Sports Illustrated bikini model appraised her muscle bound physique. Smirking, she slowly lifts her muscle bound arms to vertical, her exercise ball shoulders crushing her ears. Even unflexed, her thick, meaty, golden tanned triceps dipped 2 whole feet below her elbow. Without bending her arms, Meghan clenches her dainty, feminine fists, causing her ripped, bulging masses of pure female muscle to rise into arms 85" around. Meghan purrs in sexual delight, warning Nate of the impending erotic explosion of flesh. Like a crane, she gradually cranks her arms up, every inch her fists move upwards causing a half doze inches of solid beefy bicep to rise. Her rugby sized forearms finally collide with her biceps at a 60 degree angle. Over 3 feet of brawny bicep, combined with her massive triceps make her majestic arms 6 feet tall, far above his 5'8" wife’s head. "Measure them now sweetie!" Nate rushes to get a step ladder and measuring tape, his erection ready to burst. Standing on the ladder, Nate can't help but feel tiny next to the beastly mass of Meg. Standing 6'1, at 275lbs, Nate is no small man. A bodybuilder himself, the former college lacrosse player, and current U.S Marine Colonel was used to being in control. Placing his large tough hands on his wife’s surprisingly smooth silky skin, and feeling the steel underneath sent his control out the window. Your arms are 230" baby girl! "That it she says?" Meg pouts her luscious lips, and shakes her head causing her long golden locks to become messy. "I can't look small for my man. Just look at my pathetic little chicken wings, I'm withering away for christ sake. Hold on, let me pump some." As the uber buff Meghan walks to her weight rack, her near half-ton weight cracks the floor, each step a mini-quake. Falling to the floor from the ladder, Nate looks up at the 7 ft wide back of his goddess wife. Unable to turn her head, Meg blows him a kiss in the mirror, flashing a sultry, movie star smile. "Want to watch me GROW?...." CH. 2 In 2013, Meghan Wakefield was a sophomore marine biology major at UNC Chapel Hill. A bright young woman, with devastating beauty, and a bombshell body, she was a true southern belle, at the top of the world. She was captain of the cheering team and Class President. Her long blonde hair, perky C breasts, big bright green eyes, and long athletic legs easily got her a modeling career with Sports Illustrated. She ended u meeting Nate over Spring break 2014, in Florida. Nate, a handsome country boy, and a Harvard law student, was in town for his lacrosse teams championship. Little did they know that they're lives would be forever changed. CH. 3 Laying on the floor of his custom built basement gym, Nate had the perfect view of his perfect woman. Not four feet from him was the most massively muscular, most insanely jacked female. Make that the most muscular HUMAN ever. Only two years ago, Meg had been a fit, long legged bikini model; what stood before him now was a monstrous musclebound goddess, of giga-proportions. At a mere 5'8" tall Meg was at least 11 feet wide from exercise ball sized shoulder to exercise ball sized shoulder. Her aircraft carrier back alone was 7 feet wide. "Honeybuuun, whatchya doin?" drawled Meghan. "Quit daydreaming and pay attention. Y'all don't want to miss the show do you?" Taking slow, deliberate and quaking steps, Meg went to the far end of her dumbbell rack, her oversized oil drum thighs forcing her to waddle. "Let's see, those light 500 lbs single arm bicep curls barely warmed me up. I got to go REALLY heavy to impress my big strong Marine." Picking up a 700 lbs dumbbell in each hand, Meg turns toward the mirror and starts repping out alternating hammer curls at a blistering pace. "Oh yeah baby, ohhh yeah! LOOK AT ME! Have you ever seen arms this fucking huge? Oh god am I hot, like I AM SOOO MASSIVE I FRIGGEN LOVE HOW THICK I AM!" Rarrrrrrg! With a ear spitting roar, Meg rips out 1 more curl and with massive power hurls the quarter ton weights at the wall, embedding the steel two feet into the concrete walls."I am THE MUSCLE GODDESS! Look at these biceps, they must weigh 150lbs each! Your muscle freak wifey gained 50lbs in the last 15 minutes alone!" With a coy grin, knowing it will rial his wife up, Nate says, "Babe your arms are pretty big, but your chest and legs look a little small..." With a smoldering look in her gorgeous green eyes, the 800 lbs female behemoth growled, "I'm just getting started." CH. 4-6 So swole. So thick, so wide, so meaty. So...fucking. Sexy. Meghan was staring vainly at herself in the mirror waiting for her husband to come back with her next round of steroids. God I love juice, thought Meghan, almost as much as I love muscles. Hearing the basement door, she quickly clenched her glutes, giving Nate a spectacular view of her ass. Each cheek was the size of medicine ball. "Bet you could bounce a quarter off this ass huh babe." "You could bounce a bowling ball off that butt Meg," smiled Nate, as he began injecting the steroids into his wife's glutes, hamstrings, and calves. As Nate bent down to inject her calves, Meg suddenly raised up on her dainty feet. Nate had always been a leg man. Meghan had legs alright. Flexing down hard, Meg's calf kept getting thicker and thicker, until it was easily bigger than a basket ball, bulging a foot and a half from the back of her leg, and so wide that even with her legs spread, her calves rubbed against each other. Knowing she had him now, Meg cooed, "Just wait until I actually do some lifting before you cum all over my beyond huge calve." " But let me pump up my sexy little quads first okay pumpkin?" The mere act of dropping back down to her feet caused a massive shudder to rattle the gym. Walking to the squat rack was more difficult than it should have been, given the insane mass of her planet shaking quads. "Ohhh wow does that feel good. I just love knowing my weight alone cracks reinforced concrete. Imagine what would happen if I actually tried, imagine the POWER I posses. Taking her place in the squat rack, Meg unracked the bar and raised it to her shoulders. She was so wide that Nate had to specially build the entire set up, and the bar was made of 4" diameter titanium. Every inch of the bar was filled with 200 lbs weights, bending the super strong bar. 20 plates total plus the 200 lbs bar meant Meg was about to squat 4200 lbs...Jeesh, thats as much as my truck Nate realized. "Hey stud, get a load of this." Meg was so built, she couldn't even reach proper form, her ultra huge hamstrings and ass slamming into her lower legs preventing her from going lower. "2 tons is sooo taxing on my tiny little legs Nate. Can you 'cum' spot me pleeasse." As he went behind her, Meg yelled, Never mind, just kidding! And proceeded to push the weight up over her head, holding it there, and with a massive grunt, heaved the entire 4200 pound bar up, sending it through the ceiling and into the next story of the house. "Dammit, there is no weight in this house capable of quenching my thirst for pump. There is no weight on EARTH that my genetically superior mega muscle won't lift. I am UNSTOPPABLE!" Nate was worried now, he'd never seen her this way. "Baby I am the strongest woman in the universe!" "Just think about my power, my strength. All I want is MORE MASS. MORE POWER. MORE MUSCLE! Measure my legs before I work my beastly chest!" Slightly unnerved at the dominating tone, Nate grabbed the tape.He literally couldn't fir his hand between Meg's thighs, there was just that much beef. Each redwood thigh was 5 feet wide and almost as thick as he was. " 270" quads must be a record hun!" "Hey babe. Measure my calves before I squish you like a pancake between these record breakers." "115" calves! Holy shit!" From his knees, Nate looked up to try and see his wife's expression, but could only see her chest. Meghan suddenly laughed, her entire body swelling with new found beef as she inhaled more and more air. "The power the strength, the mass! What a rush!" she screams as she plows a fist into wall. Nate falls on his back, now afraid. His wife just put a 3 foot deep crater into walls built to survive a nuclear explosion. Lifting her foot, Megan slams it down between Nate's legs, sending cement flying with a massive boom as her leg is buried to her knee. "Take a good look at this monster leg you skinny little runt. See the size difference? You are NOTHING compared to me! I could tear you to shreds!" Meg strides to the weight rack again, sinking deep into the floor with every step."This will blow your mind!" Bending over, she grabs the rack, and LIFTS THE ENTIRE THING UP TO HER WAIST. "See my power? Just think what 300" arms can do! No, watch what they can do!" With an orgasmic roar, Meg begins curling the 3 ton rack to her chest. Her now uber pumped biceps only manage 6" before they meet her now truck tire forearms. "You think this is heavy? You think this is as big as I can get? You think I'm fucking big now ?" " Well I'm going to school you in the personification of ENORMOUS!" Taking a deep breath that expands her mass by 50%, she violently throws the rack into the wall, causing massive destruction and shacking the entire foundation. Flexing a jaw dropping crab pose, Meg orders Nate to get the rest of her steroid supply."Got to get bigger bae, the only thing I want is pure mass. Pure muscle. I must weigh 1,000 lbs, but the body you see before you now is a 90 lbs weakling compared to whats next." Throwing her head back in ecstasy , Meg roars, "I WILL GROW EVEN BIGGER!" Shit, shit, shit, Nate mutters to himself as he sprints up the basement stairs at a break neck pace. Bursting into the kitchen, he races towards the double door fridge where Meghan's steroids are kept. Might as well grab it all, he says to himself, as he picks up 22 syringes of a secret, experimental steroid designed by the DOD. Nate cringes as he here's more concrete crack; knowing the bill to repair today's damage will put a decent dent in his savings. I guess that's the price to pay for having the worlds hottest wife. Turning to the door he looks down toward the end of the hall where the dust is still settling from a 4,200 lbs weight shooting through the floor. Nate almost falls down the stairs as the entire house rumbles and shakes. "Rarrgggg! HAH, puny steel! Feel the power of my super pumped muscles!" Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Nate sees Meghan flexing over what was previously the dumbbell rack, only now it looks like an accordion, shoved deep into the foundation. Dear lord, it took 6 of my men to to lug that down here last month... "Honey bunches! Oh look, more juice! Is that for me? Ohh, you shouldn't have!" "Look honey, look at that pathetic piece of crap you call steel. Weaker than butter if you ask me Get to the injections, I just love how I feel right now. Like, I'm literally 4 times the size of you! My strength is superhero shaming, but my size is the real turn on." Raising her arms out like the goddess she is, Meg whispered, "Make me grow my king." Nate's more than happy to oblige. Five minutes later, he takes a step back, stepping around the now empty syringes, kind of looks like a heroin addict lives here, he thinks. Almost like she could read his mind, Meg coos, "I'm a muscle obsessed, steroid junkie addicted to getting bigger, gaining more and more massive muscles is all I think about. I'm by far the largest bodybuilder history has ever known. My bicep alone is bigger than Jay Cutler's entire body. And just think babe, I'm not done. No. Not even close. In fact, look at this." Stepping on the heavy duty scale in the corner; that he'd bought from the local zoo (to weigh elephants, rhinos etc...), she sent the numbers on the screen reeling. 700lbs. 850lbs. 1000lbs. 1200lbs. Good lord, Nate mumbles. Finally, the readout stops at 2050 pounds."Just think Nate. Your mega massive muscle wifey weighs over a TON! And I just took even more roids! Grrrg! Roooaaar! More! Yeeeess, I can feel myself growing, I can feel myself getting heavier! Just flexing is adding serious mass. I AM POWER! LOOK AT ME NATEY POO, I JUST GAINED 100 LBS FROM FLEXING MY ARMS! You better run for your life, because this house is comin down y'all." CH. 7 It was approaching dawn when the entire gated community of Orchard Heights shook to its foundations. Raaaarrggg! Mother fucker get bigger!!!! Megan bellowed as she again slammed the mangled remains of Nate’s trucks together. She’d been repeating this motion for well over 4 hours now, trying to work her monstrosity of a chest. Meghan was getting angrier and angrier with ever “rep” as each 10 foot wide pectoral would swell immensely and crash into each other with enough force to create a sonic boom. Her chest stuck out 14 feet in front her so it was impossible to do a normal bench press. That and her biceps which were each pushing 6 feet WIDE and even thicker. Her bicep alone was almost 200” flexed. Her tricep was 2/3 bigger!!!! Her muscles were not ripped, or shredded, or any other word that could describe a human being. She’d long surpassed that species. The definition between muscle groups was insane. Sickening. Her shoulders were so jacked that when she raised them a mere 6 inches, her head was at risk of being sheared right off. She liked the pressure though. It wouldn’t be impossible to create diamonds if you placed a lump of coal between her striations. In her hands, she had taken two military hummers of Nate’s, grabbing the bumper of each one and swinging them in together to simulate the pec deck motion. Only she was single handled swinging a 7,700 lb armored vehicle by its bumper. (The US Army took some pride in that engineering marvel) Nate had once seen a strong man take one end of an Olympic barbell and raise it straight out in front of him. He held it horizontally with one hand for maybe minute before his arm shook and he dropped it. The exercise worked stabilizers and forearms etc.. Meghan was doing a similar movement. With 8 plus tons. Meg’s bright white and pink, size 6 Nike Shoxs and thick pink hooters slouch socks were planted firmly on the pavement, which itself was no longer very firm, considering a woman who weighed more than an African elephant was pressing down on it with immense strength and power. Her insanely tight white yoga pants that could cover a circus tent, despite barley serving on her, were stretched so tight that her deeply tanned skin shown through completely. The military had wanted to design a new material similar to Spandex, that would be bullet proof and tear resistant. When Nate had heard about it, he figured Meg would be the perfect test for the material. Her monster quads and hamstrings were slowly but surely bulging so massively that the thread was coming unstitched. So much for that, better luck next time DOD. Freakishly inhumanly thick traps throbbed far above her head, they peaked more than a yard above her hair. Her shoulders, pecs, and traps already enveloping her head, each rep smooshing her almost to point of strangulation and blocking her entire view. All she could see when her arms were raised was her own musculature... and as far as she was concerned, there simply wasn’t enough of it. With her arms straight out holding the trucks, her triceps dipped low. Hanging like a side of beef was incorrect...her triceps were bigger than the whole cow! Hanging so low they merged with her “wide as a barn door back. Once again, misleading because her back was bigger than a whole barn! Much bigger! Her back was pushing 30 feet wide at this point. That’s 360 inches. 914 cm. Bigger than an entire Mr. Olympia lineup combined. And then multiplied by two! With her biceps peaking over her head and her triceps dropping so low they hit her knees (they literally pressed down into her massively exaggerated wide hips and quads) she would take a deep breath and then tense her enormous chest muscles, bringing her arms as close together as possible and really squeezing her pecs. The sight was ridiculous. The noise was deafening. The air sizzled with the heat of her raw sexual, beastly power and mind warping size. Sweat glistened and dripped flowing down the huge cuts in the chest muscles, turning to steam in the brisk morning air of New England. Pure raw power. Pure sex. Pure MUSCLE. The quiet gated suburb of Orchard Heights was alive with the sound, sights and smells of Meghan Wakefield erotically pumping her massive muscles. Held in her deceptively dainty well manicured hands were two military humvees weighing 4 tons each. “Fucking look at me and tremble you scrawny bitches, look at this power this size! MY power! MY size! Im unstoppable!” I AM POWER! I AM MUSCLE! I’m the most insanely pumped up, super humanly strong, mega-ultra-super-heavy weight bodybuilder! I am the most muscular living thing to ever exist or ever will! Worship me as I obsessively pump myself even more massive!” Meghan roared, to nobody in particular, but yet for all the world to here. Of course, the neighborhood had been evacuated hours ago when the “earthquake” struck. Or at least that was what the news was calling it. Technically, there WAS an earthquake, or better yet, a “Megha-quake” if you will. After destroying the basement, Meghan’s roid- induced mania and wild, driven desire to bulk up went into overdrive. Against Nates adamant pleas to calm down, Meg had pulverized the entire basement and house when she tried to exit the basement. Walking up the stairs proved unsuccessful as her giga-weight was so heavy she completely crushed the heavily reinforced concrete and steel stairs when she stepped on them. The futility of the construction had enraged Meghan and she hulk smashed the stairs into crumbling bits. With hellfire in her eyes, Meghan had turned full on to Nate and flexed an ab and thigh pose so huge that her quads and chest actually knocked him over. Roaring with spit flying, she’d proceeded to crank her arms up and down over and over again, squeezing and flexing her monolithic traps and shoulders until they were bright red. Then she spied the old weight rack in the corner where Nate kept his weights. Giggling like a crazed school girl, Meg pounded her way to the rack and proceeded to upend it with one arm. Maneuvering her other arm into position, she hurled it across the room like a soccer player might do with a ball. A steal I-beam floor hoist was torn from the ceiling and sparked another idea. “Babe, I’ve always hated that you built this house with such roomy ceilings, it really makes me feel short. But I think I know how to even the score. Watch my fucking power babe! Meg ripped the I beam the rest of the way out of the ceiling and started swinging it over her head like a club, tearing through the floor and utterly demolishing the rest of the house. Nate cowered in the corner to avoid being hit by all of his nice things that were now falling hazardously around him from upstairs. To say he was scared shitless at this point was an understatement. Meg had gone completely off the rails and was a literal ton of roid-raging muscle and fury. (If not more). Who are we kidding, it was way, way WAY more. At some point Nate must have lost consciousness from fear/arousal because when he woke up, he was covered in concrete dust surrounded by remnants of what was once his beautiful home. Meghan was no where in sight but he could hear her animalistic, predatory grunts from the front yard. Nate quickly pulled out his phone to contact his security team at the Pentagon. Things were going bad fast. Worriedly wondering why Meg was grunting, he’d no sooner heard his office secretary answer when the quake hit. Knowing better, Nate wobbled over to the massive hole in the basement wall to see Meghan standing in the driveway with his Porsche flattened at her feet. She’d managed to jump (who knows how high) and came down like the hand of god on his prized 911. Still on the phone, his secretary was going crazy, “Oh my God, Sir, are you okay what’s going on omg!” “Wake up SecDef and alert Homeland and the President... not sure how this will end. And I want this area under an immediate mandatory evacuation order.” Now recovered from his shock, Nate was beginning to get royally pissed. His million dollar home was destroyed. His $150 super-charged Porsche was now a candy apple red pancake and he was pretty sure his insurance didn’t cover “acts of enraged muscle monster?” “Meghan Marie, calm down right now!” Nate bellowed her middle name in anger. (Maybe yelling at your girlfriend who weighs more than your HOUSE was a bad idea in hindsight.) Not bothering to turn around, Meghan’s voice effortlessly boomed, “you are an insignificant RUNT compared to my awesome godly power and I could literally rip you into pieces. I won’t because I love you obviously but it would be this easy.” She picked up the flattened Porsche and ripped it in half like paper, her biceps and forearms bulging and growing and thickening even further. “To make it up to your goddess you will worship at my feet and tell me how huge I am.” It had been around that time that Marines from Nate’s unit arrived and evacuated the street. The neighbors were being debriefed and fed the official story of “just an earthquake.” Of course, 2.0 earthquakes weren’t totally uncommon in New England but still.

Such hot fiction. Looking forward to more!

Thank you so much for that update. I for one, fully understand how time can escape you, so I very much appreciate that you posted a longer chapter - so soon!

Very good story

So on a day away from family, friends, internet, and work, I had an impulse to write a story for the first time in years. I didn’t get out of my chair until I finished the eighth chapter. I’ve got a few more chapters to go I think, but I feel confident I’ll have the entire story posted (in pretty regular intervals) within the month. Fair warning, (1) it takes a couple chapters before the real growth starts and (2) it’s got some hetero content in it. I hope you all enjoy… CHAPTER 1 I wiped a bead of sweat from my brow and sighed as I resumed the email I’d been writing. Fans hummed throughout the room but only made the hot air feel the devil’s own breath. I reached down to my lapel and gave my blouse a shake. Fuck these uniforms, I thought for the hundredth time. What’s the use blending into the desert if you’re dead of heat exhaustion? I looked out the door to my office at my staff, each dutifully working at their respective cubicles, knowing they were equally miserable. “Whoever decided to install shitty AC units in the middle of a god damn desert country needs to be drug out into the street and shot,” Staff Sergeant Whitaker said as he dramatically wiped sweat from his muscular neck. That desert country was Kuwait and those shitty AC units were probably top-of-the-line twenty years ago when these buildings were originally constructed. I decided to let Whitaker’s outburst slide; lord knows he’d be guilty of another at some point that day. Not for the first time, I wondered at the strangeness of this group. Myself, a navy lieutenant, in charge of four air force and two army enlisted men of varying ranks; a regular kumbaya commercial showing how the US armed services could work together. Each of us were at varying (but mostly early) months of one year tours at a Kuwaiti Air base where the United States oversaw its assets in the entire Middle East. It was a large base, housing about five thousand NATO personnel, most of which were from the US. I had been pulled unceremoniously from my normal navy career path to “support” joint efforts…the navy’s diplomatic way of saying “we can play in the desert and kill terrorists too!” I chuckled. I didn’t see myself killing any terrorists today. I was more likely to get a papercut. What my staff and I were actually responsible for was all confiscated foreign assets from the decades of wars we’d fought in this region. This meant supervising a dozen warehouses filled with the tanks, trucks, and weapons confiscated from Iraqi, Syrian, or terrorist organizations. We intended to hold it until peace broke out or something…then we’d return it. In practice, I was the overlord of a pile of rusty shit that wasn’t going anywhere fast. I wiped another bead of sweat from my forehead. Fuck it, I thought before saying: “Okay everyone, feel free to de-blouse.” A collective “yaaaaayyyy” went through the room and my team immediately tore off the heavy camo-print over-shirts (aka blouse) that made up the standard military OCP uniform, leaving them in their mud brown undershirts. My eyes immediately and covertly darted to Staff Sergeant Whitaker. Goddam, I thought as he threw his blouse onto the floor as if it was a pile of shit. His undershirt, darkened by sweat, was plastered to a body made of bulging muscle. I could see the striations in his shoulders dance as he returned to typing on his computer. Dinner plate sized pecs stretched the shirt comically over visible blocks of abdominal muscles. Those globular shoulders, bulging like pumpkins under short sleeves screaming for mercy, sat above the most beautiful upper arms I had ever seen in my life. Full and swollen yet cut and hard. A single bulging vein laced down the front of each one, bunching up each time he bent his elbow. God, they were perfect. I couldn’t wait to build a set of those myself. An isolated US Air Base in the middle of a desert country left little to do, leaving its inhabitants with a small set of options: work, eat, sleep, workout, or fuck. And all five options were in ample and endless supply. I noticed it the day I landed, almost everyone walking around the base was exceptionally fit, men and women alike. In the month since, I still wasn’t bored noticing the tight and taught bodies working out in the gym or walking by when civilian attire was authorized. I’d already made some progress. Always obsessed with fitness, I landed here a pretty fit 180 pounds. At 5’11, that doesn’t make me huge but people who saw me knew I worked out. In the month since, I’d gained three pounds. Certainly not something to write home about but if I kept that up for the next eleven months I’d be heading home weighing a ripped 215 pounds. That was, not coincidentally, Whitaker’s height and weight. I took another look at the Staff Sergeant, who now had his hands clasped together and arms stretched above his head. His lats bulged like wings under those beautiful arms. Striated horseshoe triceps flared as he gave one last good stretch and lowered his arms. He turned his head. “Jesus fucking Christ, Lewis,” he said in his testosterone laden voice. “You got your head suck on a scarecrow?” My eyes darted over to the subject of Whitaker’s comment, Airmen Lewis, my newest and most junior staff member. The nineteen-year-old was on his first overseas deployment and showed up only two weeks ago. My guess is he was 5’7 and couldn’t weigh more than 135 pounds. His brown undershirt hung loosely on a shrunken body, his twiggy arms void of shape or definition. Until now, his diminutiveness had been hidden under the baggy and ungainly blouse we’d just removed. The OCPs wore like pillow sacks on everyone whether fit, fat, skinny, or what have you. Even Whitaker’s body didn’t look exceptional when wearing the uniform…if one ignored his impressive bull neck. “Cool it Whitaker,” I said sternly from over my computer screen. I meant it too. I can both appreciate the guy’s body and completely loath his personality…which I did. The Staff Sergeant was a bona fide bully, always making every effort to cross the line if there was one to cross. “But look at him, sir,” Whitaker said and gestured to the airman with his paw of a hand. “Dude,” he continued as he turned back to Lewis. “How the fuck did you make it through basic?” “Knock it off!” I said loud enough to make Whitaker involuntarily cringe. “Fucking beta,” I heard him whisper to Lewis. I saw Lewis’s face redden and was about to formally council his bully when a female voice chimed into the room. “Hey guys,” the voice said to the room as it made its way to my office. Air Force Captain Dasa White turned into my office and smiled when she saw me. “Hey there sailor,” she said. “Hey Dasa,” I said as blandly as I could to the hottest female this base had to offer. This was not my opinion, it was fact. Captain White was gorgeous and she knew it. Her blond hair was pulled back into a tight bun that only accentuated her wide smile. Her blue eyes sparkled at me. I tried to avoid looking down as she too had debloused and sported only the brown undershirt that somehow hugged her well developed and femininely muscular body in all the right spots. Did she have those tailored? She was within a year or two of my own twenty-eight years, our ranks being equivalent, so we usually called each other by our first names instead of the more formal rank. “You up on the high side?” she asked. “I am,” I responded and shifted my computer screen to the military’s SECRET level internet. She invited herself to my side of the desk, leaned over my left side, and took over my mouse and keyboard. Her toned shoulder brushed lightly against my face as her tan arms did their work. She smelled of faint and distant perfume. Her breast rubbed against my arm just once as she reached for the mouse. God, she knew was she was doing and she was good at it. But I didn’t push it any further. Over the last month I’d given her both subtle and not so subtle hints that I was incredibly interested in her but she’d kindly and just as subtly rebuffed every advance. I’d noticed during that time she was only truly interested in the really muscular guys. I don’t think even Whitaker was big enough. She tastefully flirted with everyone but he’d only seen her mean it when the guy was at least 6’3 and 230. And there were plenty of those types around here. “Look at this,” she said once done with my computer. I looked at the screen and the first thing I noticed was the grainy picture in the middle of the screen. It looked like a still from a shitty security camera but in it was a group of about one hundred men, all obviously Arabic by their faces, naked from the waist up and wearing military fatigues from the waist down. It was immediately apparent the men were huge. Grainy as it was, they were as broad and wide and vascular as any professional bodybuilder. An old Iraqi flag hung over their heads and some Arabic script was imprinted on the bottom of the photo. “Iraqi bodybuilders?” I asked innocently, trying to make light of a picture which definitely had my attention. “Bodybuilders?” she asked back with incredulity dripping from the word. “Look at the rifles they’re holding.” I was embarrassed to note I was so taken by these men’s bodies that I had missed that each of them held an AK-47 in front of them. Well… they looked like AKs but something wasn’t right about them. “Are those toy guns?” I asked without taking my eyes off the picture. It took a bit to put my finger on what was wrong but I finally noticed the guns were too small. “No Alex. They’re real,” she said, letting me put the puzzle pieces together myself. “But that would mean…” My mouth dropped. She nodded, her perfect smile broadening. “My guess is those guys are eight feet tall.” “No fucking way,” I said but the more I looked at the picture the more I had to believe it. It wasn’t just the guns. These men were lined up on bleachers that looked a little too small. The doorway cut in half by the edge of the picture looked too small. Everything looked to small next to these guys. “It has to be a fake,” I said finally. “Look at the file name,” she said. I minimized the picture and looked at the folder she had open. “Saddam’s Supermen,” I read aloud. My heart fluttered a bit. “But that’s just a bullshit rumor.” The rumor apparently originated during the Iraqi invasion of 2003. I was a middle schooler at the time of that invasion so wasn’t around to hear it at the beginning but the story still cropped up jokingly in small circles from time-to-time. Who knows now much the current rumor had changed from the original one. Regardless, the version I heard stated that Saddam Hussein was obsessed with turning his famed million-man army into super soldiers capable of taking over the entire region. The rumor also suggested that we’d invaded Iraq back then because these supermen were the ACTUAL weapons of mass destruction we were desperate to take off their hands. “I guess you could call these giants weapons of mass destruction,” I said aloud with a laugh. “Hell yes you could,” she said, her eyes glued to the screen. “It would take an entire magazine to take one of those beasts down.” I looked at the folder from which she pulled the photo. It and the slew of parent folders housing it gave no indication a photo of supermen was to be found. “How did you find this?” “By accident,” she said simply. “I get bored on the watch floor and like to surf the web so-to-speak. There’s probably millions of files scattered in the guts of our SIPR servers and as unorganized as those warehouses you’re responsible for. I’m probably the first to stumble across that picture since it was first dropped there.” “Are there any more?” She shook her head. “Believe me, I tried. There could be. Finding a specific photo here is like trying to find a needle in a haystack.” Her eyes were still locked on the photo and were hungry. She liked what she was looking at. “You think they’re still around?” she asked. “Doubtful,” I said, shrugging. “I think people would raise an eyebrow if guys like this found their way into Abu Ghraib.” “Hm,” she muttered, nodding before shaking herself. “Anyway,” she concluded. “Thought you’d be interested.” She gave me a knowing wink that confused me but I willed the confusion away. “I’m heading to the gym. Dinner at six?” “Yeah,” I said as she turned to leave. I saw the heads of my team all snap to their screens in comic unison as she walked by and headed to the door. Their heads then bent to get a final shot of her backside as she walked through the door and shut it behind her. I couldn’t blame them, she was the only one I knew who could make those thick baggy uniform pants look good. The door was barely shut before Whitaker clapped his hands together loudly. “Ooooh, sir,” he said, a broad smile cracking his square head. “You gonna fuck that tonight.” He moved his hand as if slapping an invisible ass. The rest of the room looked shocked at the outburst. Proper military decorum was more than a bit dulled in a forward base like this one but there were certain lines that one did not cross. Sexual references of an officer was one of them. I slapped my hand on the table loudly. “That’s it, Staff Sergeant,” I bellowed and spoke to the broader room. “I don’t know who has the midnight watches on the silos this weekend, but you can thank Whitaker for taking them off your hands.” Whitaker’s face dropped. “But sir.” “Both of them,” I said over his objections. I looked at the time on my computer. 4:30 pm. Close enough, I thought as I felt another bead of sweat drip down my back. “Ok everyone. Close up shop,” I said, ignoring Whitaker’s sputtering. “See you all on Monday, when the AC is hopefully working again.” The team rushed out as if on fire, readily escaping the hundred-degree heat. I yelled after Whitaker before he made his way out the door. “Your first watch starts in thirty minutes Whitaker. Be. On. Time!” He grunted as he walked out. I spied Lewis close behind him. “Wait one, Airman Lewis.” Lewis lowered his head as if struck, turned, and begrudgingly made his way into my office. “Shut the door,” I said as gently as I could. Lewis did so and sat across the desk from me. His face was youthful even for nineteen. Sandy blond hair was tightly cut to his head. His narrow face was pale (unusual for desert dwellers) and blemish free. Bright blue eyes stared at me with apprehension. “I’m going to address what Staff Sergeant said with the Master Sergeant.” Master Sergeant Reeves was my second in command and the senior enlisted leader of my staff. It was technically his job to quell personal issues like this but he was on a trip to Afghanistan until Monday. “Don’t bother, sir,” the Airman said. “Master Sergeant is on him every day and it hasn’t done much.” The boy shrugged. “Besides, he’s right. I’m skinny. I’ve tried to bulk up since I’ve gotten here but I think I’ve actually lost weight.” “Eat,” I advised. “I have a fast metabolism too but the food here is free and you can get as much as you want. You should leave every meal stuffed to the gills.” Lewis just nodded. His eyes flickering to my computer screen and his jaw dropped. “Wow,” he said at the monsters in the photograph. “You think that’s real?” he asked. I turned my eyes back to the picture. “Could be,” I said noncommittally before continuing. “I’m no superman in the gym, Lewis, but I can give you some pointers in that arena if you like.” Lewis shook his head, his eyes remaining on my computer screen. “Thank you, sir, but no. I can take care of myself.” “I’m sure you can,” I said, removing my access card from the computer, sending the screen dark. Lewis shook his head as if breaking out of a trance. I grabbed my blouse and began putting it on. “You coming?” I asked as I made my way to the door. Lewis followed but broke towards his own desk instead of following me out the room. “If you don’t mind, sir,” he said awkwardly. “I have some work I forgot to finish.” “Suit yourself,” I said and gave the room a once over to ensure no classified material was left out in the open. Finding none, I walked out. Looking over my shoulder upon leaving, I saw Lewis back on his own computer, the picture of Saddam’s Supermen sitting boldly in its center.

An amazing start to a story that I hope continues

This is my first story in quite a long time. I’ve been hesitant to share anything on the forum, but this idea struck me the other day and I’ve been working away to try and get it out before Christmas. This part is really just setting the scene, but I promise there’s a big payoff in the next part. Please enjoy, and let me know what you think! ___________________________________________ Noah had been planning this, in one way or another, ever since he learned that Santa was real. He of course had reached the same conclusion that many children reach as they grow older: that Santa was no more than a fixture of the season, utilized by parents everywhere to instill the holiday spirit (and ensure good behavior). What many children and parents didn’t realize, however, was that this aging out was entirely by design. Santa may very well be a man with incredible abilities: delivering gifts all around the world in a single night, flying a sleigh led by reindeer, even eating all the cookies and drinking all the milk that children left out. But Santa is after all still a man like everyone else. Sure he’s able to give children presents all in one night, but tweens? Teens? Young professionals? People in their midlife crisis? The elderly and infirm? It would simply be too much. For that reason, Santa works his magic to gradually age children out, allowing him to maintain a more manageable Nice List. Children gradually begin to suspect their parents are behind it all, and Santa uses a little bit of magical suggestion to make all parties involved believe it. But as I mentioned earlier, Santa is still a man underneath that red coat and holiday cheer. And like any man, he can make mistakes. Noah Lawson was just such a mistake. It had been innocent enough, just a last minute flight cancellation and a cobbled together plan for Christmas Eve. His mother, insisting that distant family was better than no family on Christmas Eve, had arranged for him to spend the night at his second cousin’s (more specifically his mother’s cousin) home for the night and then catch a flight the next morning to make it home for Christmas dinner. This would have been more than fine, except that the shuttle from the airport broke down not even a mile from the airport. By the time he managed to get back to the terminal, hail a taxi, and actually make it to his second cousin’s home, it was well past midnight. When Noah arrived that night, he was greeted by a house with darkened windows and a note on the door, barely legible in the warm light from the lamppost down the street. It apologized that nobody was awake to greet him, and asked him to let himself in quietly to avoid disturbing the kids upstairs. The note also directed him to use the guest bedroom off of the living room on the main floor. Noah did just that, quietly slipping in the house, down the entry hall, through the living room, past the fireplace and Christmas tree, and into his room for the night. As he was rummaging in his suitcase and getting ready for bed, Saint Nick was finishing making his rounds of the neighborhood. That last house was, as you may have guessed, the one Noah had just let himself into. Now Santa was generally very good about making his list. He knew who lived in which house, what general schedule they kept, and who needed presents. The list would also update to reflect guests, if someone was awake, and even if he had a chimney to go down or not. Santa was also very good about checking the list. Before he went through a new neighborhood, he would check for any changes on the list or any potential problems with delivery. Most of the time he would even check it twice. But this was not most times, and if it had been, he would have noticed the house he was currently descending towards had a new addition, a certain Noah L, and that said addition was currently very much awake. So as it landed on the roof, Santa’s sleigh made only the faintest of clacks against the shingles, a sound which wouldn’t rouse even the lightest sleeper. But, given that Noah was rather awake, he heard that thud ring out in the quiet house. Noah was a very cautious 18 year old, and for that reason he had visions of burglars rather than sugar plums dancing in his head as he peeked out through a crack in the door into the living room. This position gave him an excellent view of the fireplace as Santa emerged into the living room. If you asked Noah what it looked like, he would tell you that it was as if the fireplace gave a big sigh and blew a bubble at the same time, if the bubble was actually a large man in a red coat. Although Santa’s legs came first, it was hard to miss the large belly that followed, filling up that trademark red suit. The size of the gut wasn’t what surprised Noah the most, though. It was how spry the man seemed to be in spite of it as he went about his work. Pulling a large sack out of the hearth behind him, Santa stood to his full height (almost level with the top of the tree, Noah couldn’t help but notice) and pulled out an armload of gifts. He splayed them under the tree with expert precision, barely disturbing any of the gleaming ornaments. Noah couldn’t help but notice how the thick, cord-like muscles of his arms strained the fabric of his coat a little as he did so. Then Santa strode over to the milk and cookies left on a small tray by the hearth and downed them in a flash, giving a small belch as he finished. “Oof,” Santa grunted as he turned back towards the fireplace, “wish I was a bit stronger. Then maybe carrying this big ol’ spare tire would be easier with how big it gets by the end of the night.” And with that, the fireplace seemed to take a deep breath, and Noah was left gaping at an empty living room with an erection he wasn’t quite sure why he had. Though Noah only heard those two short sentences out of the man, they stuck with him through the next decade. They were in his mind when he decided to study biochemistry and pharmacology at college, when he kissed a boy and realized he never liked girls in the first place,when he went on to pursue his MD, when his gaze lingered a little too long at the burly men at his gym, and when he accepted a position at a well-known pharmaceutical company as a researcher. They were especially on his mind in late July almost 10 years later when he finally perfected his modification of a workout supplement the company was developing to help increase muscle mass and burn fat. It was from that point he began to formulate a plan for Christmas Eve that year, one he was sure both he and Saint Nick would enjoy. In August, he applied for a transfer to the research department in Anchorage. In September, he was approved and began looking for housing. In October, he found an excellent unit in a duplex with a lovely family living next door and moved in. In November, Noah had some problems with the fireplace and had some maintenance work done on the chimney. In early December, he began smuggling his modified supplement out of the lab and storing it at home in a jar innocuously labeled ‘Sugar.’ On Christmas Eve, Noah slid perfect gingerbread men onto a wire rack to cool, counting down the few remaining hours until his plan came to fruition. Noah had been planning this, in one way or another, ever since he learned that Santa was real.

I absolutely take it as a huge compliment, mate! I love that people are coming up their own ideas for sequels and follow up stories! Funnily enough, I had a similar idea (one of a few) that they would be reunited years down the line after having split up again. I'm not sure if that would betray the ending to this story though. I'm also not sure how many times Noah would realistically go back to AJ! That's an interesting idea, mate! It might be worth pointing out that even if I don't do another story/follow-up next, there's always a chance that I'll do one sometime in the future. Somewhere down the line!

Apologies for the delay! With all the festivities I severely misjudged the time I would have to write this last part (not to mention how long it turned out). Despite it being almost a day late, I hope you all enjoy this final part. Merry Christmas to those of you who celebrate, and Happy Holidays to those of you who don’t. Without further ado, here is the third part! __________________________________________ “What have you – ooh – done to me?” Nick managed to ask between grunts and moans as he sank back into the armchair. “Well,” Nick said cautiously, “a few years ago I, well I saw you on Christmas Eve on accident, and I heard you say that you wished you were bigger so you could carry all the weight you gain by the end of the night and, well, here we are.” I’m not sure what you’ve done to me Noah, but-“ Nick had to pause for a moment as another gasp escaped his lips and he began to writhe in the armchair. “It feels... why it feels absolutely amazing.” And, after managing to get that last sentence out, Nick let himself fall further back into the armchair, followed by a small moan. With Nick’s rhythmic writhing, Noah could occasionally see various muscles and body parts as they pressed up against the loose fabric of the suit. His chest, his arms, his legs; everything danced behind the red veil of his suit. As he watched though, Noah noticed that he could see more and more detail. Biceps began to bunch up against Nick’s sleeves. Quads began to swell and fill his pants. Pecs began to push out against the tightly drawn coat. And as Noah Took this all in, Nick regarded him with half lidded eyes. “Well you seem to like what you see,” Nick breathed between gasps and moans, “why don’t you - huuuuuh... why don’t you come over here and get a closer look.” Noah, not wanting to hesitate should the invitation be retracted, approached the writhing man seated in his armchair. “How about, huugh, you get a little, hmmf, hands on?” Nick huffed, a sly smile played across his lips. Noah needed no further prompting, and he pushed his probing hands into Nick’s chest. There was still some excess fabric in the suit, but nonetheless Noah quickly found Nick’s solid chest. Where the man had previously had soft mounds Noah now found some solid pecs. Their size easily pushed out his hands and, as Nick gave another moan and a flex, they surged out further. In an uncharacteristically mischievous move, Noah managed to find Nick’s nipples and give them a pinch through the suit, eliciting a groan of pleasure. In response, Nick’s pecs seemed to grow even faster, and at this point Noah was sure they had formed a decent shelf underneath that coat. With a low growl, Nick leaned forward towards Noah, grabbing his waist. “Why don’t you sit in my lap,” he rumbled, “and tell me what you want for Christmas.” With that, Noah felt himself being tugged forward, and soon found himself sitting on two large, thick thighs, which he could slowly feel swelling under him. He could also feel, just in front of him, the slow swell of something else. In a flash of risqué inspiration, Noah looped his arms around Nick’s neck, threw his legs up over the legs of the chair, and pulled himself up flush with Nick’s body. “All I want for Christmas,” Noah murmured, “is you.” And with that he began to grind on Nick’s growing package. The effect was nearly instantaneous. Heralded by a long moan from Nick, his muscles began to expand at a more rapid pace, especially the one receiving the most attention. Nick reached down and, enveloping Noah in his expanding arms, locked lips with him in a passionate kiss. Noah continues to gyrate against his swelling member, and Nick responded in kind with the occasional small thrust of his hips. Both of them broke of the kiss though when they heard the slow and tortured snap of threads in a seam. It seemed that, having been tailored for legs which did not have much fat on them to begin with, Nick’s pants were the first to give up the ghost. Through the ripped seams, Noah could now see the still expanding cables of muscle that formed Nick’s quads, as well as a The festive mistletoe print of his briefs. With a few more pops, the seams were completely torn from the waist and down to the knees. “Well that won’t do,” rumbled Nick. He then picked Nick up off his lap with relative ease (with arms that severely strained his sleeves, Noah noticed) and placed him to the side of the chair. Then, standing up for a moment, Nick ripped the remains of his pants off before sinking back into the chair, another ecstatic moan escaping his mouth. It was then Noah noticed two things. One, that Nick’s package was much larger than it had been before and was beginning to put a strain in even the stretchy material of his briefs. Two, that Nick was not even half mast yet, which was hard to believe since the thing was almost as large as his head now. Noticing that Noah had become momentarily stunned, even through the haze of his growth, Nick have him a wry smile. “Big gifts are great, but, hmmmmm, is there anything else you want to open first?” Pulling himself from the gravity of Nick’s massive endowment, Noah surveyed the rest of his body. By this point the formerly baggy suit was beginning to tighten around Nick’s expanding bulk, leaving almost no mystery about what laid underneath. The buttons of the coat, formerly strained by the bulk of Nick’s massive gut, now found themselves strained by the inexorable forward march of his titanic pecs. The plush white collar had previously concealed whatever definition Nick’s traps had before, but now it was pressed firmly up to tickle his ears by the considerable mounds growing from his shoulders. Nick’s arms, having not been inconsiderable before, fought against the seams of his jacket and peered out through slowly expanding gaps. Even Nick’s abs, thought they could not yet be seen, caused the thick leather belt to groan in protest. “Looks like I’ve, huh, outgrown my coat,” Nick said with a chuckle. With that, he lifted his arms up and flexed hard. The sleeves, already taxed as they were by the growing biceps beneath them all but exploded off, revealing arms thicker than the base of his Christmas tree twice over. With the sleeves taken care of, Nick shifted into a crab pose, sending the top 5 buttons of his coat clattering to the ground and revealing pecs that put two pumpkin pies to shame. All that remained of Nick’s trademark suit were some red tatters held up by a straining black belt, and with a quick yank that was gone too, revealing perfectly cobbled and deep set abs. Not wanting to miss any more of the action, Noah returned to straddling Nick’s lap, settling down on top of the still expanding endowment. Nick gave a small huff, grabbing onto Noah’s waist and grinding against the smaller man with small, languid motions. “Why don’t I help you out, since your hands are a bit occupied at the moment,” Noah suggested as he brought his hands up to caress the monstrous slabs of meat before him. His hands were completely dwarfed by Nick’s pecs, and if he put his hand into the cleavage between them, Noah was sure they would swallow up to his wrist at least. Even sitting on his lap as he was, Noah could tell that Nick had to crane his neck to peer past his enormous chest and see what was going on in his lap. Even then, his pecs’ still expanding mass were quickly making that an impossibility. Nick then became aware of a slightly growing pressure on each of his shoulders and, thinking that Nick has shifted his grip up, moved his hands to each side to caress each hand. What he found instead was the bulging mass of two eye popping biceps. Pressing up against him. With Nick’s hands still on Noah’s waist, his biceps had begun to run out of room and push into the space Noah occupied. Noah gave one of the peaks, which was quickly surpassing the size of his waist, a slow lick. In response Nick gave a low groan and pulled Noah closer into a meaty embrace. Noah now found himself face planted into the two gorgeous pecs he had been admiring earlier, with the bulk of Nick’s arms keeping his own pinned to his sides. With no other recourse, Noah began to run his tongue up and down the cleavage between Nick’s pecs. “Whuuuuhhhhhh,” Nick huffed, his voice heavy with lust. “You’re a, huhhh, real pro at this, hyeugh, aren’t you?” Noah responded by moving his mouth over to one pec, tilting his face up, and swirling his tongue around Nick’s left nipple. A guttural growl rose up from Nick’s chest as all his muscles tenses for a moment and he thrust his waist up and pressed Noah into the bottom of his pecs. It was at this moment both men realized the chair beneath them had been groaning in protest for quite some time and, with that last erotic push, finally collapsed in on itself. Nick fell onto his thickened glutes with Noah following close behind, bouncing off of Nick’s pillowy pecs and onto the floor next to him. Nick, pushing himself up out of the remnants of the armchair, stood up and turned to offer Noah a hand up. Noah took it, and after standing to his feet appraised the changed (and still changing!) man before him. Nick had not been a short man before, and was already an inch or two taller than Noah’s even 6 feet when he came down the chimney earlier that night. But now he nearly scraped against the ceiling. As Nick regarded him over his immense chest, no small feat at this point, Noah could see that the man’s pecs had grown so large they now mounded up and pushed against Nick’s well-trimmed beard. His traps had grown as well, now swallowing his muscles neck and reaching up almost to Nick’s ears. His biceps jockeyed for space on his crowded torso, their bulk combined with his large chest forcing his arms to rest jutted out at his sides. Noah was fairly certain that those considerable arms were now larger around than the breadth of his own torso, each. Though not as large, Nick’s forearms had grown in tandem with his biceps, now at least as large as a large piece of firewood each. Noah also noticed for the first time just how broad Nick’s back had become. It had assumed a sharp triangle shape, his broad lats tapering quickly down into a tight, muscled waist. Even from the front, it was easy to see the muscles of his back has been growing just as much as his chest. Further down, Nick’s quads were, in a word, monstrous. They had ballooned out to be even larger than Nick’s still impressive waist, forcing him to stand in a slightly spread stance. His calves weren’t fighting for space, but their toned, wide diamond shape was nothing to shake a stick at. When Noah’s gaze reached Nick’s feet, he couldn’t help but laugh. The boots had been putting up a valiant fight, but the laces had all but snapped and the toe was clearly being pushed to its limits. Nick’s feet were comically constrained, and Noah’s laughter made him suddenly aware of just how uncomfortable he was. “Could you, uhh, help me out a little bit?” Nick asked, slightly sheepish. Noah nodded and bent down to unlace the tortured boots. The laces came undone like a coiled spring, and Nick gave a deep sigh of relief as Noah popped the boots off his feet. As Noah unbent his back from his crouched position, he felt his head bump against something large and soft above him. Shuffling back a bit, Noah tunes his gaze upward and was greeted with a rather enormous and festively wrapped package. By this point the mistletoe pattern of the briefs had been distorted into a squiggly mass of red and green by the burgeoning endowment beneath it. The briefs were stretchy, but even they had a limit that was quickly approaching. To buy some more time, the briefs had ceded some ground, and now the thick root of Nick’s cock was visible above the distended waistband. Though the struggling briefs still nominally covered all the important bits, they left little to the imagination. Noah could clearly see the outline of Nick’s massive sack and thick tool through the threadbare briefs now, a situation which only became more apparent as Noah watched. Standing up, Noah reached out and ran a hand across the fleshy head on Nick’s cock, now quite visible despite still being technically contained. Nick sucked in a quick breath as he did so. “Well you’ve saved the best gift for last,” Nick said with a wink, his glinting eyes regarding Noah over his looming pecs. “Why don’t you open it?” “Hmmm,” Noah said pretending to ponder Nick’s offer. “I think I’ll try and figure out what’s inside first.” Noah then grabbed both sides of the package and gave the whole thing a shake, then put his head down near it in a mock attempt to discern its contents. This earned him a sharp intake of air from Nick, followed by a lusty huff. “Hmmmm, still not sure,” said Noah, continuing his charade.” Noah rubbed his hands down the thick shaft, grabbing as he went, until he reached the large head. “I wonder what is could be?” Bantered Noah as he kneaded the soft head. “Maybe a large stuffed animal?” Santa, still giving the occasional heavy grunt or sigh, locked his hands behind his head to keep from grabbing at his bulge, treating Noah to a gorgeous pose of rippling abs, bulging arms, and swelling pecs. After admiring the view for a moment, Noah returned his attention to the somehow still contained package. Though his previous ministrations had clearly excited Nick, Noah saw that he was still nowhere near full mast. With a small scowl, Noah decided he was going to have to significantly up his game. Nick has then grown to the point where, if he stood at his full height, he would bump into the ceiling, and as a result he had adopted a wider stance and bent over slightly. This meant that Nick’s package was now almost at chest level with Noah, and that gave him a rather... exciting idea. With a small jump, Noah threw himself onto Nick’s bulge and clambered to the top. Pivoting around so that his back rested against Nick’s stomach, Noah straddled the large cock and, with a devilish grin began to rock and gyrate his hips, running his hands over the surface as he did so. “On Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer,” Noah cheered, barely suppressing a giggle. Nick let out a long, loud moan of pleasure and, having to do something with his hands while this happened, latched on to his nipples and began to tweak them. Though his body had overall seemed to stop growing, Nick’s cock was still growing in another way. As it continued to swell, there was suddenly a loud snap as Nick’s briefs gave way and his cock burst out. It quickly rose up, the head throbbing and tinged purple, soon pressing Noah snugly against Nick’s abs and cocooning him under the shelf of Nick’s pecs. The head rose steadily higher, soon curving slightly backwards and nestling in between his mammoth pecs. A dollop of precum glistening as it oozed from Nick’s cock. Reaching his hands up from his nipples, Nick caressed the sensitive head, releasing a shaky breath as he smeared the precum down its front. With this greater attention, precum began to run down onto the burgeoning shaft. With this new source of lubrication, Noah took it upon himself to move beyond just grinding the base of Nick’s cock. Wrapping his arms as far around the towering endowment as he could, which he soon found meant barely touching his fingers together on the other side, Noah began to work his arms up and down. “Ho ho hooooh,” groaned Nick, his hips giving an involuntary buck as pleasure emanated up and down his sensitive cock. “D-don’t stop, Noah.” This encouragement egged Noah on even further, and he sped up the already vigorous motions of his arms. Nick’s breaths became more and more labored, his own hands rubbing slower and slower across the head of his cock until he gripped it like a life preserver at sea. “Noah,” he managed to choke out between breaths. “I’m... I’m, hahhh, so close now. Where... where should I... huff... point this thing?” But Noah was too caught up in servicing his giant cock to notice, and so Nick contemplates his options. Bending his cock down to aim anywhere was simply out of the question. The thing was hard as iron and about as bendable too. That left him two options. Allowing his cock to shoot into the air like a fireworks display not only would give the ceiling a new paint job, it would likely splatter across the room and create a horrendous mess, likely ruining whatever got caught in the splash zone. All too aware that he had already broken an armchair, Nick went with the second option. Hunching over as much as he could without crushing Noah, Nick wrapped his arms around his lodgepole sized member and hugged it as close to his body as he could. He then strained his neck down as much as he could and latched his lips over his cockhead, fitting as much of the mushroom tip as he could into his mouth. With his pecs already pushed firmly against his chin, Nick began to thrust his hips, slowly sucking more and more of his endowment. At this point, Noah could to little more except wrap his legs around the base of Nick’s cock and hold of for dear life and the thrusts came after and faster, sandwiched as he was. With a strong final thrust and a muffled moan, Nick hugged his cock as tight as he could as a torrent of cum travelled up the length of his member and poured down his gullet. He gulped down the flood as fast as it came, and after a few moments Nick let the head pop out of his mouth, gave a contented sigh, and released his hold on his titanic manhood. Now free from Nick’s grip, the cock sprang forward and came to a rest in it’s still-softening state jutting straight out, as if a dowsing rod for fireplaces. Noah took the opportunity to jump down and turn back towards Nick, taking a few steps backward so he could see the man’s face past his immense chest. His common sense and usual personality returning after the last bits of lust drifted from his mind, Noah was suddenly rather nervous to be standing in front of a man who he had turned into a hulking titan of muscle without asking. “Er, tada?” Said Noah, gesturing lamely up at Nick’s transformed body. Nick regarded him with a cocked eyebrow for a moment, then burst out into a hearty laugh. “It’s been a long time since anyone has given me a gift,” Nick said, grinning merrily, “let alone one this... unique. What exactly did you gift me? And though I do not wish to be unappreciative, why me?” Noah proceded to explain how he had come to know of Nick’s existence, how he overheard him, what his job was and how it related to the modified muscle building and fat burning supplement he had been working on, and how it all culminated in the gingerbread cookies he gave him that night. “So the compound works by...?” “ using a compound in the supplement in conjunction with molecules with high energy content, in your case fat, to rapidly build muscle mass,” Noah explained. “The supplement generally requires a large amount of a substance to kickstart a reaction, like it did for you. It’s fascinating though that the supplement doesn’t just use fat. It could be any other molecule with a high energy content, why it could even be-“ Noah’s eyes widened at his sudden realization, and he took an involuntary step back. “Cum.” As if on cue, Nick gave a low moan of pleasure as his body began to expand again. His head bumped against the ceiling and was pushed forwards into his pecs as he stopped slightly to fit his delts now firmly pushed up against his ears, not to mention they now sat flush with the ceiling. Nick’s pecs, already considerable, ballooned further out, the monumental rift between them large enough for Noah to lose an arm. Their new size pressed even more firmly against Nick’s chin, almost prohibiting him from speaking. His lats pushed out his arms even further, leaving Nick’s arms resting at an almost comical angle jutting out from his body. Any space this may have created was soon swallowed by the massive bulk of Nick’s biceps, now considerably larger than even his own head. The crevasses between his abs deepened as the muscles grew more defined. His ridged, immense back widened even further, his previously wide v shape being superseded by more of a T shape. His quads, already forcing him into a wide stance, expanded even further and thicker, pushing his feet out well past his waist and into something reminiscent of a more reserved sumo stance. This pose also thrust his massive endowment forward as his cock also grew in size, surging out at least another few inches in size. His sack, and not the one he left back by the tree, now contained two large balls that dangled down to nearly his knees, each roughly the size of a volleyball. As the growth reached his calves, widening them even further into even more exaggerated diamonds, Nick sank to his knees and rested his hands around the base of his member. His ballsack now resting on the hardwood floor, his cock almost in the flue, and his chin somewhat snug against his hefty pecs, Nick gave Noah a lusty smile. “It looks like I could use some help finishing up tonight,” Nick said with a twinkle in his eye, “ maybe in more ways than one.” “You mean you want me to come with you and finish delivering presents?” Noah asked, his excitement barely contained.” “Hopefully in that order too,” Nick responded playfully. “But in all seriousness, yes. You seem like just the sort of man I’ve been looking for. If you want, you can even accompany me back to the North Pole after we finish this last little bit of work.” “Well that would... that would be amazing,” said Noah, slightly in shock. “I would love that.” “Then it’s settled!” said Nick, a warm grin spreading over his face. “But first, you think you could, ah, help me with this?” Nick gestured to his cock, which was starting to rise off of the floor and leak precum. Noah gave a small chuckle, nodded, and sauntered over to his new lover. And so ends this holiday tale of muscles and growth, of Noah and Nick, and merry hijinks. So, in the spirit of the season, a Merry Christmas to all, and to all a growy night.

Merry Christmas, everyone. Part 3 *** Dr. Ben was presenting his newest analysis to a late-night gathering of researchers. "You can see how Jordan's endocrine system is morphing in several ways. It's not just the abundance of testosterone - which still seems to be rising - but his entire body that's changing. The proliferation of hormone receptors mean that his body could be up to twice as sensitive to testosterone as a normal person. And the exaggerated muscle growth response is also accelerated by the virus, through mechanisms like neural myelination. "Furthermore, the virus is changing Jordan's muscle into a denser tissue than what we normally expect. It is heavier and denser, but it has comparable maintenance cost to the body. We believe this was how Jordan was able to gain weight on a calorie deficit. "All of these adaptations have been observed before, but never in a single patient. We think that Jordan's viral strain is the 'perfect storm' of hypertrophy-inducing characteristics. The potential for transformation is frightening. But, we will continue to support him as much as we are able." *** Jordan was dreaming he was back at his dorm room. In his dream, he was trying to get dressed, but none of the clothes he had fit him any more. He searched his closet for anything that could contain him. He tried some "XXXL" shirts but they hung off his pecs down to his navel. He realised he must have grown taller. Then he noticed that his head was practically bumping against the roof. He tried to leave the room wearing nothing but a too-tight pair of shorts. But he could barely fit through the door. He had to squat down and squeeze through, but half way through he got stuck. There's no way, he thought... Jordan woke up with a start. The first thing he noticed was that he was horny out of his mind. His first impulse was to jerk off immediately. He reached down to his crotch. His dick was hard so often these days it felt like he barely had time to keep it satisfied, in between lifting and feeding sessions. Thank god his roommate was cool with it. The big athlete started to jerk his throbbing tool. But something was different. He looked down his body. There was enough light to make out that his dick head was now sitting above his navel, closer to his pecs than before. Unbelievable, he thought. His cock was growing as well. It was like a second puberty. The head of his cock belched out precum. Jordan's mind was becoming a haze of lust. This intense arousal was becoming his new normal. It was like being a 17 year-old who hadn't jerked off for days, but all the time. Fuck. His cock was so big. So much huger than John's pencil dick. God damn, Jordan realised, he was a fucking beast. Most people could spend their entire lives fantasising about someone like him and never meet one. But here he was. People - men, women - would absolutely pay money to worship his body and cock. And the sickest part was that he had only just started to grow. Who knows how huge he would be by the end. Even the world's greatest experts couldn't say. He was blessed, chosen to become a freak, a walking force of fucking nature. Groaning, he reached a climax, and sprayed himself with seemingly unending waves of cum. Even his orgasms were better now, lasting well over a full minute. As he came down from his post-orgasm high, he couldn't imagine going back to what sex used to feel like. Still somewhat disoriented from his climax, he sneaked into the bathroom to freshen up. He used a damp washcloth to clean up the mess all over his chest and abs, marvelling at how much distance his ejaculation had covered. If he wasn't careful he could get a face full next time. Or start painting the furniture. On his way back to bed, he couldn't help but notice John. The bed, that seemed normal-size to Jordan, seemed to swallow up John. The dim light cast a long shadow, exaggerating Jordan's size even more. He looked like a giant, or an ogre, towering over the smaller man. Jordan felt compelled to do something to share the moment with John. He wanted to move his bed next to the other man. But, he decided they should probably both be awake and talk about it first. So, he put that thought away for now and fell back on his own bed, falling quickly into a relaxed sleep. *** John was picking away at his breakfast the next morning, while watching Jordan devour what seemed like an entire day's worth of food. The facility was trying to feed them both nutrient-rich, calorie-dense foods. John had eaten a small bowl of oatmeal with berries and syrup, followed by bacon and eggs on toast. He had some tablets to take with a glass of water to help round out any nutrient deficiencies. But Jordan had practically drunk 2 large bowls of oatmeal and was now eating the biggest fried English breakfast that John had ever seen. In addition to entire packets of bacon and sausages, there were stacks of fried bread and potatoes, a large bowl of beans, and an omelette with at least 12 eggs and a generous portion of cheese. "Is it ok for him to eat so much fried food? Isn't it, like, I dunno... bad for his heart or something?" John asked a researcher who was taking notes. "From what we can see, it doesn't make much difference. As long as he gets enough calories, protein and fibre, he can't really go wrong. "Well, there are a few minor optimisations that we need to make to his diet. We're planning to feed him fish every day, for the oils, and the vitamin D that he loses from being in quarantine all day. But apart from that, the virus makes it difficult to go wrong. We monitor his arteries, and they are as healthy as they can be. Any excess fat is is immediately converted to sustain the existing muscle mass, or to fuel exertion during exercise, or for further growth." John sipped at a tall glass of orange juice. "It's just amazing, doctor. It's like... he's a sponge that can absorb energy from food.” The researcher laughed. "Yes, it is remarkable, isn't it? I hope some day we can find some way to isolate the mechanism of action and give people the ability to grow like this. Until then, well, I'll have to settle for watching it unfold in people like Jordan. It's hard not to be a bit jealous." John thought about it a little. Yes, he was jealous, for sure. But mostly, he was in awe. He wondered how Jordan felt about it all. They hadn't had much time to talk yet. He hope that Jordan didn't find his admiration weird or creepy. After breakfast, they had a bit of waiting time before the next body scan. Jordan was sipping - more like slurping - on a huge milkshake. John had seen the staff prepare it, it was made from a tub of Haagen-dazs and 4 scoops of protein powder. "So, are you full now? That seemed like a lot of food." "I mean, sort of... I mostly just feel... uncomfortable. I guess I feel 'full' physically, but still hungry. If that makes sense?" "Geez, are you ever NOT hungry?" "Haha, I mean, it stops bothering me after a while. But I would never, like, turn down a sandwich. The doctors say that unless I want to bloat out my stomach, I need to eat 5-6 small meals, like that one." "Holy crap. Is that what you call a small meal?" Jordan laughed a deep belly laugh. "I need calories to feed these gains!" He flexed a bicep for emphasis. "God, you are too much sometimes..." "Hey, buddy, I know how this must feel for you. You really like muscle, don't you?" "Ha, yeah... I guess I was an idiot for even thinking I could get big one day, like you. It's like I'm just fated to live in your shadow." "Dude. You heard what they said last training session. You had the best lifts of anyone with your condition. You and me, we're freaks of nature. They don't know how it's gonna end. So, you can't give up yet." "Hey, man, I appreciate the gesture. But, hey, who said anything about giving up? I might not be gifted like you, but I'm not going down without a fight. Why quit now, when I can just keep going?" Jordan grinned. "Sure, man. That's the spirit. I think." "Hey, man, you know I have, like, a thing, for, er, big guys... right?" Jordan raised an eyebrow. "Um... are we cool about that?" "To be honest, this is all new to me, little man. So consider this a voyage of discovery together, buddy. But, um, if I start getting uncomfortable, I might ask you to back off. Is that ok, dude? Like... I don't want you to get the wrong idea, you know." John was a little amused to see that Jordan was kind of embarrassed. "Hey, man, it's cool. No strings, or whatever. I just don't want to overstep your boundaries, I guess." "Thanks, dude. It's good to clear the air, man." *** The researchers were processing the latest body scans. "He's up to 265lbs now, muscle gain is within our expected projections." "You know, doctor, Jordan's genitals are getting larger... is that normal?" Dr. Ben took a look at the data in the print-out. "It's not unheard of... we aren't sure what the mechanism is exactly. As the virus stimulates testosterone production, it can increase the size of the male genitals at the same time. How much bigger are we talking here?" "It's difficult to say for sure, because there's a certain margin of error. It looks like the penile tissue mass is about 8% greater than our last reading, which was only a few days ago." "Hmm... keep tabs on it. That's quite rapid growth. I doubt his body can sustain it." "Also, the patient was reporting increased arousal and spontaneous erections, doctor." "Yes, that is quite normal. It will probably get worse in the weeks to come. He has internet access in his room, right? He can take care of it, surely." "What about John?" "If he complains, we can move in a curtain or something. His room won't be ready for at least a couple more weeks. And we can't allow them to leave." "Alright, doctor. I guess we will just wait and see how it goes, for now." *** Jordan was playing the new Street Fighter on a PlayStation and a TV that had been provided in the shared room. He was only wearing workout shorts. John was watching, sat on his bed, his laptop on his lap, untouched. The fighters in the game were ridiculously buff, cartoonishly muscular. Most people would probably find them gross. John got a hard-on when he thought about Jordan getting as big as that. No way that could happen. It had been deadlift day in the gym. The gym staff let John tap out after one shaky set of five at 225 lbs. Jordan started warming up at 300lbs. He had done six sets of ten at over 600lbs before the staff made him stop. John had never seen anyone move that much steel. Jordan insisted that he had some gas in the tank, so they let him barbell row nearly 400lbs for one mammoth set until he was too tired to continue. Jordan's back was ridiculously pumped and swollen. Sat on the floor, it looked strange the way his slim waist folded underneath his wide lats. He definitely looked like a pro bodybuilder at this point. "Jeez, man, how much bigger are you gonna get?" "Dunno, my dude. The doc says I'll eventually hit the limit of what I can grow on my frame, and that'll be that. The virus will run its course, and I'll be left with whatever I have as my new baseline. I probably won't be able to compete in sports as my testosterone will be permanently enhanced. It'll set off any doping tests." John thought that sounded pretty sweet, anyway. "OK, but how big do you want to get?" Jordan laughed. "Hey, I dunno, I never really thought about it until recently." John couldn't imagine not thinking about it. "Um, to be honest, just being this big is awesome. It's kind of embarrassing, but I hope I get really huge, you know? Like, sometimes, I dream about being TOO big. Like, unable to walk through doors and shit. Haha, is that weird, little dude?" John swallowed but didn't reply. "Hey John, are you horny? Because I am." Oh, shit, John thought. His cock was hard under his laptop. "Um..." Jordan paused Street Fighter and got up. He struggled to pull down his shorts over his pumped legs. John gasped as the athlete's thick throbbing dick bounced up. "You can watch, if you want." John didn't know what to say. Jordan walked over to his bed, laid back, and started casually stroking his cock. "It's bigger now, you know... since this started," he murmured. "Do you want to touch me?" John swallowed and told him the honest truth. "More than anything, right now." Jordan grinned. "Good answer. Let me see what I can do. Let's move these beds a bit closer." He got out of bed and reached under one end of the bed frame. He tried to drag it over to John, but it was heavier than he thought. "Uh, Jordan, I don't think you're supposed to..." With a grunt, cock throbbing, Jordan deadlifted the end of the bed off the ground. As it came up there was a loud snapping sound. Jordan looked down and saw that the bed had been bolted to the floor. "Uh... oops," he said with a cocky grin. John stared in awe as Jordan walked around the bed, cock bobbing, and snapped the bolts on the other side. "That's better", he said, as he dragged the bed so it was side-by-side with John's. The legs of the bed ground against the concrete floor, the steel spitting out sparks as it went. John's mouth was dry as Jordan climbed onto the bed. He started stroking his cock again. "My dude, check out my legs. They're so pumped from the workout today. Touch 'em." John reached out with both hands and ran them along the inside of Jordan's thigh. It's true, they were pumped, and vascular too. Compared to his skinny arms they seemed enormous. John felt his body was like a sick joke compared to Jordan. Jordan was what people were supposed to look like, and everyone else was a pale imitation, a shadow of his glory. "Fuck, dude. You look gorgeous between my legs. You should suck my cock." Lying back there, with the small man wrapping his lips around his cock, Jordan couldn't deny that this was better than the sex he had with women. One of John's hands played with Jordan's huge balls while another ran over his washboard 8-pack. John's skinny, veined arms were trembling at the raw masculinity of the larger athlete. Jordan realised that his dick was too big for John to deepthroat comfortably, so he was happy for John to only swallow part of the shaft, while jerking off the lower third of his dick. It was cool, most chicks struggled with his cock back when it was "normal sized", and John was honestly smaller than most of them. What if John wanted to get fucked in the ass by his new cock? The thought sent shivers through Jordan's body. He imagined slapping his dick against John back and ass. It had to be the biggest fucker that John had ever taken, he assumed. As his cock lurched and spewed sticky precum down John's throat, John's hands found their way to Jordan's huge pecs. Feeling for the nubs of his nipples, John grabbed on and twisted. "Holy fuck!" Jordan yelled as John yanked on his big pecs. He suddenly started shooting a huge load down John's throat, his cock pumping out sperm, John coughing and choking, finally spitting it out as it continued to spew sperm, all over his upper body. "Dude! How much cum was that?? Give me some warning next time... Jesus, it's all over my clothes..." "Fuck, man... that was great... so much better than jerking off..." John looked up from his ruined clothes to the sexiest thing he had ever seen. Jordan, resplendent in all his muscular glory, his huge dick still spurting small amounts of cum, his abs covered in sticky mess, his chest gleaming from sweat... John's head was spinning from the scent of sex and sweat... and gazing up at Jordan's eyes, glaring down at him with a satisfied smile, a cocky look that told John his place... he whimpered suddenly as he realised he was cumming in his underwear.

This next part is not quite up to the climax of the story, but there are some things in here that might tickle your fancy. I’ll hopefully have the last (?) part done and lightly edited by Christmas morning for all of you. Thanks for your patience, and Merry Christmas! __________________________________________ Noah’s living room might as well have been the setting for a hallmark Christmas movie. A glorious pine tree dominated the room, bedecked with lights, beads, and baubles on every available branch. Above the fireplace hung two stockings spaced just perfectly, embroidered with holiday scenes. A garland of pine boughs bound with brilliant red ribbon was festooned over the mantle as well. And to bring it all together, a neatly plated collection of gingerbread men occupied a small table to the side of the fireplace, accompanied by a tall, cold glass of milk. All Noah had to do now was wait. At this point you might have a number of questions, many probably something like “why is he in Alaska? How does he know Santa will come to his house? How will this work if he’s awake/ not a child/ some sort of Kringle pervert? Why am I reading this smutty holiday story?” I may not be able to address all of your questions, but I hope that, by laying bare Noah’s plan, I may be able to answer some of them. You see, Noah’s plan was not slapdash or hurried by any means. He had thought through almost every detail. Noah may have only heard two sentences from Santa, but the phrase “by the end of the night” particularly caught his attention. If that jolly old saint was already that big when Noah saw him in Maine, how big would he be after he had covered almost all of the Americas? To this end, Noah tracked down a pharmaceutical company with a research facility as close to the international dateline as he could find, thus ending up in Anchorage. This got him in the right location, but Noah knew he would need a fluke of some sort for Santa to come down the chimney for him on Christmas Eve. For this, he came up with a rather cunning plan. To set it in motion, Noah decided on living in a duplex with a family next door. This was for a few reasons. The first was that the family next door had children who were young enough to receive presents from Santa, thus necessitating a visit to the area from the man himself. The second was that the fireplaces and chimneys of the units mirrored each other and shared a wall and allowed him to carry out the next phase of his plan. When doing ‘repairs,’ Noah had his and his neighbors’ chimneys swapped so that the chimney above his home actually fed into the fireplace of his neighbor, and vice versa. Of course only he and the contractors knew this, So when Santa came down the chimney to deliver the children’s presents, he would instead land in Noah’s living room. And so Noah waited in the hall closet, huddled with his back against a swath of coats and jackets and peering through the crack in the door at the fireplace in his living room. Sure enough, he soon heard a light thud from the roof above him. Noah held his breath and watched the fireplace, willing a black boot or a scrap of red fabric to appear. And appear it did. Much like the first time, the fireplace seemed to exhale and blow a red suited bubble. But unlike the first time, the bubble just kept coming. With the smaller sound of straining fabric, Santa’s red clad paunch just kept coming out of the fire place. Further and further it strained, until the stockings hung above were draped across the massive gut and began to be dragged along with the still exiting bulk. Eventually though, the rest of the man followed. Noah was greeted with a sight somewhat different than before, and Santa’s gripes about needing a little more strength certainly seems an understatement now. The man’s gut was absolutely gargantuan. The whole thing hung down low enough to almost completely cover the man’s thighs, though Noah assumes they must be rather large themselves to support the massive man before him. ‘Hung down’ may have actually been the wrong term to describe the gut before Noah though, because as Santa turned to drag his sack of gifts from the hearth, he could see that the sheer size of the thing simply didn’t allow it to go anywhere else but down and out. Yet this did not seem to bother Santa much, as he worked around his considerable waistline with an unusual grace. He quickly scooped the correct (he thought) presents from the sack, turned to the tree, and with what appeared to be no difficulty stooped down and placed each gift underneath. Noah might have tricked himself into thinking the man’s stomach was no more than a gag, maybe stuffed with pillows, had Santa’s footfalls not been so loud and heavy as he approached the tree. His main task complete, Santa pivoted to the tray of cookies which he regarded with a chuckle. Noah had indeed baked him gingerbread men, but the cutouts has not been standard. He had used a novelty bodybuilder cutout he found online, and carefully decorated each to have perfectly iced abs, pecs, biceps, and all the rest. “A shame to eat such eye catching cookies,” said Santa under his breath, “but I have a reputation to uphold.” And with that, Santa downed the cookies quick as a flash, with the glass of milk following soon after. Santa gave a contented sigh and patted his stomach. The gesture, although small, was too much for one of the poor buttons on his coat, which ripped from its thread and clattered to the floor. The white-clad bulk underneath quickly surged forward into the new space. Bending down, Santa swore as he realized he couldn’t reach his arms around his girth to pick the button up off the floor. Noah, realizing if he didn’t act now his plan would be for nothing, confidently stepped out of the hall closet and into the living room. Shocked by his sudden appearance, Santa snapped up straight and took an involuntary step back. Before he could say anything, however, Noah scooped up the button and offered it to him. “I noticed you were having trouble so, well, here you go,” said Noah, almost immediately wishing he had said something even slightly more charming or sophisticated. Santa stood there in stunned silence for a moment. Mutely, he took the button, nodded in thanks, and began to pivot back towards the fireplace. “Wait!” Noah said, taking hold of Santa’s coat sleeve. “I have something else I wanted to give you...” “Now, ah, what would that be?” Santa asked, clearly unused to receiving gifts from another person face to face. “Well it should be, err, right about now,” Noah said, checking the clock on the wall. Santa opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to ask what on earth Noah was talking about, but all that came out was a small grunt as Santa clutched at his stomach. “Oh sorry, I meant to warn you,” Noah apologized. “ This might be a little uncomfortable. It might be better if you sit down for this part.” Noah ushered Santa over to a plush armchair in front of the fireplace, into which Santa plopped down and let out a choking gasp. “I’m really sorry, but this shouldn’t take that much longer,” Noah said, a hint of anxiety edging into his voice. “What on Earth-“ But Santa, suddenly wracked with a much larger spasm, wasn’t able to finish his sentence, and he contented himself with gripping his gut and riding out whatever this was. He began to notice though, that with each spasm he seemed to be sunk less and less into the armchair, and his hands seemed to be coming close and closer together at the front of his stomach. In fact, as he looked down at them, he could actually see his hands slowly moving towards each other as his gut seemed to recede. The buttons on his coat were no longer strained, and as he continued to watch he could see folds and wrinkles begin to appear in his red coat. His black belt, which had been keeping his belly contained more so than keeping his pants up, now was draped loosely across his lap. With one final grunt, the last of his fat seemed to disappear. “Well, that was quite a trick,” said Santa in what was possibly the understatement of the year. Standing up, Santa gathered the loose fabric of his suit in one hand and the belt in the other. He ratcheted the belt to the last hole and resecured the buckle, though even that was almost too loose to keep everything together. Though Santa was still just as tall as before and had kept all his strength, he was still left as a much skinnier man swimming in the folds of a suit made for someone much wider. “I, ah, appreciate your gift,” Santa murmured, slightly awestruck with the transformation he had undergone. “Mr....?” “Lawson,” he replied nervously, “Noah Lawson, Mr. Claus.” “Oh please, none of that ‘Mister’ business,” interjected Santa. “Call me Nick.” “Oh, uh, alright then... Nick,” Noah replied. “I feel like I should tell you though, it’s not over yet.” “What?” “Yea, there’s um, there’s one more stage left” Nick looked like he wanted to say several things at that moment, but all he could get out was a low moan as a pleasurable burning sensation began to spread through his body.

Latest updates to this months story!

First Pages of the December MG Comic! http://www.patreon.com/gymjunkiemuscle

Wow! I almost don't know how to respond to this!! Thanks so much for this wonderful and thoughtful feedback @Wolf9! I can't tell you how awesome it is to hear that you've been touched by this story, and in turn, I feel genuinely touched by these lovely comments! ? I also love that a new reader has come on board this late in the story when it's almost finished. I love the idea of new people discovering this story long after I've finished posting it, but I guess that's out of my control! ? And I'm glad you ahem...enjoyed (??) that particular part of the story so much! What would a bit of flexed bicep squeezing and worshipping be without some hot, cocky grunts from the owner?! ??

Hey everyone, thanks for the feedback on the story so far. Special thanks to @dredlifter for some help with this part. Part 2 *** The next day, John woke up to find himself gazing at his new roommate fast asleep on his bed. At first, he thought he was still dreaming, until he remembered the previous day. He felt a slight wave of dread in his stomach. But in that moment, he was distracted by Jordan's naked body. Jordan's bobbing, 8-inch erection was connected to his washboard abs by a string of fluid. He had one beefy arm propped above his head, tufts of hair on display. He had the biggest chest that John had ever seen in person, with the perfect waist to go with it. John found the jock fascinating to look at. His own 5-inch dick was fully hard just admiring the other man's physique, and his rising and falling chest. "Ugh, gross," he thought to himself, "don't be a creeper." He rolled over in his bed so he was facing the wall. What was that guy's problem, anyway? Going to bed like that, there's no way John wasn't going to see him. Unless that was his plan the whole time. Maybe he likes being watched. Maybe that's why he shows up to a doctor's appointment in a stringer tank top. John sighed, and climbed out of bed, trying not to look at the jock. He rummaged through his posessions as quietly as he could until he found a towel and some clothes. Then, he snuck his way to the en suite bathroom, trying not to wake his roommate. The bathroom was quite roomy. Not only that, John found there was even a sauna attached to it. There was a sign on the door to the steam room with some health warnings. Apparently, it was normally used to treat muscular problems like persistent muscle fatigue. Maybe he could persuade the doctors to let him use it at some point. For now, though, John was happy with just a shower. With a sigh of relief, he stepped under the warm water flow. He took his time. He'd been thinking over the doctor's offer last night, but honestly it didn't seem like much of a choice - it was an offer he couldn't refuse. That means he was stuck with his new roommate, maybe for a few weeks. He would need to get to know him at some point. What if they didn't get along? His roommate's confidence and self-assuredness was hard for John to understand. But he couldn't deny, it made his dick hard. *** Jordan was woken up by the sound of his roommate rooting through boxes. He decided to pretend to be asleep. He noticed John trying to sneak past him while stealing glances at him. Jordan couldn't help but grin. The kid wanted his body, it was obvious. His morning hardon glistened with pre-fuck. He had only cum 8 hours ago but it felt like it had been weeks. He'd been noticeably hornier lately, but what Dr. Ben had told him had fired him up even more. The idea that maybe he could become MORE powerful and muscular was, he had to admit, a huge turn on. And, although he wasn't totally happy about it, he would rather be sharing a room with a gay twink than growing his body by himself. God, he hoped John was a cocksucker as well as a muscle admirer. Fuck, his body would provide the perfect contrast to his chiselled perfection... and make him feel even bigger and stronger and more masculine... Jordan was stroking his cock while listening to the shower starting. "Boy, that guy was small. He looks like a kid next to me." The thought made him horny. He wanted to measure John and compare stats. Is it weird that it turned him on? Did it matter? He needed to get off so much these days, any fuel was welcome. He started to lazily jerk his cock. Thoughts about his roommate filled his head as he did. He would love to be able to overhead press his roommate, flex their muscles against each other, pull out the measuring tape... maybe he could talk the kid into some kind of massage... fuck, maybe they could compare dick size, and... "Ah, SHIT!!" He'd got carried away feeling himself up and thinking about his new roommate, that he blew a huge load all over his body. His dick kept firing load after load, all over his chest and stomach. Panting and grunting the whole time, it must have shot 7 or 8 times. Trying to catch his breath, he looked down over his ripped torso, now dripping with spunk. He needed to use that shower badly. Fortunately, he couldn't hear the shower running any more. Glancing at the door, he saw John standing there in nothing but a towel, red-faced. "Oh... hey buddy. Shower free?" He asked with a grin, jumping up onto his feet, sauntering over to the kid. Dang, he really was tiny. "I made a big mess, excuse me while I freshen up a little." He cockily wandered past the speechless John with his half-hard prick still drooling onto his beefy legs. *** The doctor and his team were looking over the first body scan results. The boys had been well behaved. The scanning pods involved immersing their bodies in fluid for half an hour or so. It was relaxing, like a jacuzzi. "The scans are what I expected based on the symptoms. For John, it seems like the infection is struggling to take hold. Probably, there was insufficient muscle mass to begin with. Now that the body's defence mechanisms have kicked in, it's hard for the virus to infect more than 10-20% of the available tissue. "Jordan, on the other hand, is fully saturated with the virus. You can see the tissue itself is denser than we would normally expect. We will need to run some strength tests in the gym this afternoon to gather more data on this. "Blood testosterone results are within expectations. John - 105 ng, Jordan - 1585 ng. "Viral presence in the endocrine system is still relatively constrained, so Jordan's numbers are likely to go higher as the virus progresses. However, the testosterone levels alone don't account for Jordan's growth. Even people taking synthetic testosterone don't pack on mass like he does. So, there must be other mechanisms that are further stimulating muscle growth. We should keep an eye out for this in future tests. "John's testosterone levels can't get much lower, so I would expect them to remain fairly stable. "Let's take some strength measurements next. I want to see how much strength John has been able to preserve. I'm also interested to know how effectively Jordan can operate his expanding muscles." *** John was panting with exhaustion from the workout they were putting him through. This was tougher than the workouts he had been used to - a mixture of high intensity and volume. Jordan was on a bench, watching, looking bemused. "John, your strength is actually excellent considering the state of your immune system. I've never seen anyone in your condition capable of lifting these numbers. We'll do our best to preserve as much as your strength as we can." John beamed. "... really?" was all he could muster in his exhaustion. "The runt is stronger than he looks!" Jordan said with a grin. "We don't want to overdo it," the researcher said. "We'll call it here, and we'll do another session in a couple of days. Jordan, you're up." "Finally!" Rather than go straight to the showers, John decided to stick around for a bit. He got the feeling that Jordan wouldn't mind an audience. "Yesterday, we took some general measurements, but today let's start with some strength measurements. Let's warm up on bench press..." They started with 1 plate - 135 lbs total. It was pretty close to John's 1-rep max. Jordan, of course, made it look effortless. "I can barely feel it, doc," Jordan said as he pumped out a dozen reps. "Alright, stay there. Let's try 2 plates." Jordan pumped out another dozen reps. "Bit of a pump now, doc, but it's no sweat." Slowly, they worked there way up to 3 plates. "Jordan, you said the best you'd ever benched was 330 lbs? You're now benching comfortably over 300lbs." "Ohh, ffuck yeah..." Jordan murmured, seemingly only half in the moment as he grinded out 5 reps. His face and body was damp with sweat. John was watching in quiet awe as the research assitant continued loading more weight. Jordan finally topped out with a 1-rep max of 405 lbs. He cried out a roar of primal fury as he pushed the bar through the air. John was in shock. John could deadlift 150lbs less than Jordan could bench. "Not bad, Jordan, but you can probably do better. With training, we can probably add another 50lbs as your neural systems adapt to the rapid muscle growth. And you'll start to see your weight increase as we up your calorie intake. That should quickly carry over into strength gains." "Huff.. come on, doc... we can go heavier... hit me with all you got..." "I've seen enough, Jordan. The worst thing we can do is injure you. What you need now is rest and recovery." "Geez... if you say so..." Jordan rolled his hulking frame off the bench. He glanced at John. "You still here, squirt?" John blushed, barely able to make eye contact with the sweaty behemoth. "We should freshen up, don'tcha think?" *** As he stepped into the communal shower, Jordan could hear John washing himself in one of the private cubicles. "Yo, John, are you in there?" "Hmm?" "Can you give me a hand with something?" John turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He opened the cubicle to see Jordan in all his naked glory. The shower area had cubicles, but also a shared shower area, where Jordan looked like he was about to wash himself. Only the two of them were in there. "Bro, since I started hulking out, it's hard for me to reach the middle of my back. They don't have any brushes or anything. Can you reach back there and soap it up for me?" "Uh, sure thing, buddy," John said, a little apprehensively. He soaped up both his hands as Jordan turned to face away from him. Even relaxed, Jordan's back was wide and intimidating. Jordan carefully rubbed the thick muscular centre of the back, then rand his hands up along the jock's wide lats. Jordan sighed as he was rubbed down. John's small hands were surprisingly smooth for someone who lifts weights. They reminded him of a girl he met who gave massages. Man, he could use a massage from time to time... he felt his dick twitch from the thought. "All done, man," said John. Jordan turned around and John found himself face-to-face with Jordan's thick eight-pack. "Nice job, bro, cheers. I owe you one. Hey, am I going crazy, or do my pecs look bigger to you?" John gazed up at the fat slabs of muscle protruding above his face. "Your pecs look amazing," was all he could say. "No, I mean, did they grow already? Dude, I think I'm seeing things, haha. I'm pretty excited about all this," Jordan said with a smirk. His cock bobbed at half mast, brushing against John's torso, almost like it was nudging for attention. "Sorry about that, little dude. My dick has a mind of its own. I've been horny for weeks now. I thought that the gym would help, but honestly, it just made it worse. The doc told me I shouldn't ignore it, he said it might be important for growing, or something. But it needs attention, like, two or three times a day. Hope you don't mind if I jerk off in our room." Jordan's fat cock was fully hard and leaking now. "Hey, little man. You know, you can go ahead and touch it, if you want..." John swallowed. He could hardly believe what he was hearing. He cautiously wrapped his hands around Jordan's cock. Jordan let out a deep growl as John ran his hands up and down, appreciatively. Of course, he had large, low-hanging balls to complement his large endowment. John's own 5-inch cock was rock hard already under his towel. John kept moving his hands up and down, marvelling at the firmness and thickness of the length. Jordan was uncircumcised and the extra skin made his dick look even longer. John felt a pang of inadequacy at the thought of his own, circumcised cock. "That feels really good, dude... how about I take over and you can play with my nuts?" Jordan's cocky grin never left his face. John wrapped one hand around those bull balls. He couldn't get over how much bigger Jordan was. Bigger in every way. "Oh yeah, just like that. Oh fuck. Pull down on my balls, dude." Jordan started jerking himself faster. "Pull down harder, god damn it... fuck... FUCK!" Jordan's cock sprayed seed all over John's chest and face. Jordan had to choke back laughter at the smaller man's shocked expression as he got a surprise bukkake. "S-sorry, buddy, I'm not good at controlling myself yet. I'm just, so horny all the time. Hey, why don't you go clean up, and I'll meet you back at the room?" "S-sure thing Jordan... I'll see you later..." "Oh, absolutely, little guy. Once I've had some time to rest and recharge, we can have some more fun."

Next chapter. Tell me if I'm going too fast! ? Nine Every day for the rest of that week I exchanged messages with AJ Jones on Facebook. Some days just a few for a short period of time, and other times lots of messages sent over a period of hours. Most of the time the messages were cheeky and funny. Jokes about me going to Scorpio’s and becoming a cocky, shredded, posing trunk sporting (fuck!) bodybuilder like AJ. Other times they were more serious. Messages about training. Advice from AJ about diet and supplements. We also sometimes reminisced about school. He even asked me about uni a few times too. On the morning of that Friday I was getting my gym stuff together and (again), felt ridiculously nervous, yet admittedly excited, about the prospect of seeing the boy I’d spent the past week exchanging cute, funny, awesome Facebook messages with. I wasn’t sure whether I could handle spending the whole gym session wondering whether I was going bump into AJ or not, so I decided to bite the bullet and sent him a message to try and find out whether he’d be at the leisure centre. “OK, I’m braving it. I’m just about to go to the gym to do (gulp!)…LEGS!” He replied straight away. “HAHA!” “God help me!” I replied. “How funny. I’m just about to head to Scorpio’s! Only it’s chest day for me. GRRRR!” I instantly started to swell at the “GRRRR!” Or maybe it was just the thought of AJ pumping up in the gym. Or just the thought of AJ full stop. I’d never met a man before with the ability to make me rock hard from a single text message. But AJ had been doing that practically every day that we’d been in contact. “Both getting our pump on! HELL YEAH!” I messaged. And then I sent the AJ emoji. “Watch out Little Denton Leisure Centre. The Buff Cookster is coming and he’s taking NO prisoners.” “Ahem. I think you mean Noah “What’s Cooking? Shredded Fucking BEEF” Cook is coming!” I replied. “Haha! Oooops. Silly me. Well have a good workout, mate!” Well that solved that then. I wouldn’t be bumping into AJ at the gym. I thought I would feel relieved, but I didn’t. In fact, I felt an almost crushing disappointment as I stared at my phone and messaged him back. “You too, mate.” I put my phone down on my bed, but it pinged straight away. AJ had sent me another message. Just one word. “Unless.” Oh my God! Three dots. The longest three dots ever. “You wanna come to Scorpio’s with me?” FUCK! My heart swelled and seemed to fill up my whole chest. Was this a genuine offer? Or were we doing the whole, jokey, “Noah The Bodybuilder” thing again? “Are you serious?” My heart was pounding. My head was spinning. “Yep.” Three more dots. “Why not?” Erm … because I’m NOT a two hundred and fifty pounds, ripped to buggery competitive bodybuilder! I’m a slim built, casual gym goer who doesn’t look like he belongs anywhere NEAR a hardcore bodybuilding gym and I’ll probably get laughed out of the fucking building the second I walk in there! “We keep joking about it. So why don’t we do it? I’ll show you what a real gym looks like. Hehe!” My stomach was twisting in knots. “Don’t I have to be a member?” I messaged. “No. They do guest passes if you go with someone whose already a member.” I wanted to go. I really, really wanted to go. But, well … FUCK! “Promise you won’t end up in Mark Green’s protein shake!” And then he sent the crying with laughter face emoji. “Hehe!” I replied “I’ll look after you.” And that’s what did it. I melted. I grinned. I took a deep breathe and typed. “OK! Let’s do it!” FUCK!! What am I doing?! “Awesome!” And then he sent the big, teeth bearing grin emoji. “You’ll get to see AJ “The Ripper” Jones pumping up in action.” Instant fucking hard on. “The Ripper??” “Oh yeah. It’s a new nickname I’m trying out. We can discuss that later.” And then he sent my favourite emoji. The AJ emoji. He gave me his phone number (I had a competitive bodybuilder’s phone number! What the fuck was going on?!) and shortly afterwards texted me his address. AJ was apparently going to drive us to Scorpio’s. I was absolutely bricking it when I approached AJ’s house. I knew it was his straight away because there was a motorbike on the drive. Apparently AJ’s mum and big, bald, built like a brick shithouse, leather wearing Andy (i.e. my first ever male crush) were still together. I felt an incredible rush of excitement. At the prospect of maybe seeing Andy for the first time in about twelve years, but mostly at seeing AJ again. My heart was pounding when AJ opened the door. He was smiling at me. That gorgeous grin, but something else was going on too. Beneath the smile, he, oddly, looked kind of nervous. His hair was as styled and preened as it was for our personal training session and he was wearing a bright red hoodie. It was the most covered up I’d ever seen him, but he still looks like an absolute tank. It wasn’t the tightest of hoodies, but I could still see his huge chest bulging underneath the material. There was a symbol of a scorpion and wording around the image embedded on the left side of the chest. It was a Scorpio’s Gym hoodie which, for some reason, I found crazily hot. A proper, little bodybuilder wearing clothes from a proper, hardcore bodybuilding gym. GRRRRR! As soon as we were both sat in the car, I got an instant hard on. Just being sat so close to AJ was an incredible turn on. My ordinary sized legs so close to his thighs, which looked ridiculously thick under his black baggie trackies, which had the word “GASP” written down them, and which I knew to be a proper bodybuilding clothing brand. Thank GOD I had my backpack in my lap to cover up my crotch. “Mate, you can put your bag in the back if you want.” FUCK! “Oh, er … that’s alright.” He looked at me and shot me one his heart melting grins. He didn’t look quite so nervous anymore. “Nervous?” he asked me. “A little!” I replied. His grin got wider. “You’ll be fine! Just watch out for hungry looking bodybuilders. And if you see Mark Green coming towards you with a knife and fork, just run!” I laughed but felt flustered at the same time. What if 6’3 muscle monster daddy Mark Green was there? FUCK! “No, seriously, mate. It’s not just bodybuilders and huge guys who go there.” “Phew!” I said. “You’ll blend right in. Especially when you’re a bodybuilder yourself!” I coyly grinned and nervously looked at him and he was flashing me a mischievous grin. I suddenly felt relaxed. With it, came a surge of bravery. “So, what’s this new nickname?” A huge grin filled his whole face. “The Ripper! AJ “The Ripper” Jones. Ripper as in, you know … fucking ripped!” My hard on stirred under my backpack. Fuck yeah! “Hmmm. Not bad,” I replied. “Kinda sounds like you fart a lot, though!” AJ howled loudly. “Well … I kinda do!” I pulled a face. “Thanks for the warning!” He giggled. One of his cute, little, laddish giggles I loved so much. “Noah, I eat two hundred grams of protein a day. Of course I fart a lot!” I think it was the first time he’d actually called me Noah since we’d bumped into each two weeks before in the meat aisle of Tesco. I suddenly felt giddy and couldn’t refrain from smirking. He asked me how my diet was going and gave me a mini lecture in how most of building muscle is down to what you eat when I told him I’d been struggling to stick to the diet plan he’d made for me during our personal training session. “I hope I don’t bore you with all this bodybuilding stuff!” AJ said. “No!” I replied, perhaps a little too eagerly. AJ grinned and I felt a little coy. I suddenly felt nervous again. “I find it really interesting!” And I swear I actually blushed. “I can tell you do! Most people don’t get it.” AJ’s reaction gave me the confidence to carry on with the subject. “I completely get it! I find it kind of incredible that you can actually do that to your body. Sort of … mould and transform it into this thing that’s … not of the norm.” “Exactly!” AJ said, excitedly grinning. My heart fluttered and my crotch twitched under my backpack. “And that final look, when you’re in competition condition,” I continued. “It just looks … amazing! Almost inhuman!” I couldn’t believe what I was saying, but it gave me such a buzz to talk openly about my feelings towards bodybuilders. Or at least, some of them. “Hell yeah!” AJ replied, grinning wildly. “That’s what it’s all about, mate. That competition look. Huge and shredded! Muscle bellies popping. Striations fucking everywhere!” OH MY FUCKING GOD. My dick was juddering furiously. If only AJ knew what he was doing to me. “Striations are these lines you get in your muscle when you’re super duper shredded,” AJ explained. I smiled to myself. I knew this, of course, but I decided to play dumb. AJ clearly loved teaching me about all things bodybuilding related, which I found completely adorable. Or was this just AJ trying to corrupt and lead me astray, much like he did when we were younger? “Oh, right!” I replied, playing dumb. “More lingo!” “I’ll show you a picture of a really shredded bodybuilder later!” Judder, judder, judder. FUUUUCCKKK! “You’ll be shocked!” Of course I will, AJ. Because I’ve NEVER seen a picture of a shredded to death muscle freak with striations in his ass and a full on, bonkers, Christmas tree shaped lower back. I had the overwhelming urge to ask AJ what it felt like to be in shredded, competition condition. To stand on stage and flex for an audience. But I didn’t quite have the nerve. Maybe those were questions for another day. If there’d even be one, of course. Scorpio’s Gym was absolutely nothing like what I was expecting from the outside. It was a brick building on a run down industrial estate. I almost wondered whether AJ had taken me somewhere else, until I saw the words “SCORPIO’S GYM” written on the side of the building, with the same image of a scorpion that was on the chest of AJ’s bright red hoodie. It was only because the building was so inconspicuous looking that I wasn’t feeling half as nervous as I expected to. As I followed AJ Jones into the gym, I felt the most amazing buzz. I really couldn’t believe what I, Noah Cook, was walking into a proper hardcore bodybuilding gym with an actual bodybuilder. But it wasn’t just that. It was also the simple act of just being with AJ. After spending so much time over the previous few days, laughing and smiling to his messages and dreamily gazing at my phone, I was now actually with him in the flesh. It was like he’d ignited a fire inside of me. The more time I spent with him. The more times he made me laugh, and blush, and smiled at me, in that cute, gorgeous way that he did, the more it felt like my insides were burning.

So there I was at the age of 45 trying to build my life again. I mean, not again, ufff… it's hard to explain… but let's say I had the opportunity of a fresh start. So I moved to Buenos Aires, Argentina. Why Argentina? Well, I’ve traveled a lot and from all the places where to find a balance between nice city, cheap economy and sexy guys this is THE place. So I rented a small apartment in Palermo and decided it was time for me to start a new business. I had some ideas that I thought could work very well and maybe after a year or two sell them as a package for big investors. This was going to be the third time. The idea was quite simple: an e-commerce for wholesalers. Easy, possible and cheap. I only needed a developer. Not too experienced, actually an intern would suit the role more than well. So I started interviewing. I'm not going to bore you with all the interviews I did and all the people (nice people, by the way, love you all). Let's move faster at the end of the line where Ivan was. Ivan was 20 years old. He was a morocho (they call them like that in here), not a black person, not a white person neither but maybe closer. Was he handsome? Mmmmm he wasn’t bad… you know… I mean thinking about his head… he was kind of nerdy… worst haircut ever… like dumb and dumber you know? But… ok Was he tall? Probably 2 inches taller than me. I’m not Mr. statue, but I don’t feel I'm a hobbit… I’m a decent 5 foot 5 (no one will remind because of my height, ok). Was he built? Ok, now we have something to talk about. You know those guys that have big muscles (or decent muscles) but covered in fat? Well, he was one of those. I mean, he wasn’t fat at all. He had like a broad back, big shoulders, big arms and his body stretched that shirt especially on the shoulders. But because of all the fat he had there was no chest definition, no six packs… It was a trained boy, with a big body. He looked strong, no doubt about it. So we talked for 30 minutes. I felt he was good for the role. —So, do you have any other interests? Hobbies? —Oh… hobbies? I like to train!… Gym! —his English was as rough as himself. —I can tell! He laughed —Do you train a lot? —Oh, four times a week… I used to be personal trainer… —Really? When? When you were 10? —haha! No no, two years ago… I’ve been training since I was 15… —Nice… ok then, let me call you back… That night I jacked off thinking about him. I mean I could be his father… or he could be a friend of my son? That was much better… (I'm not THAT pervert…) So… Ivan… big and powerful and young Ivan… when you reach certain age there are some things that look way different from before… youth was one… and body of course… cause actually they are related. I couldn’t help but get horny with the idea of a much younger man than me… overpowering me… dominating me… ok ok… all the humiliation games you probably know… Sex, for christ sake! So next day I sent him an email: Congratulation! You are hired! And sent him the address of the office I rented and asked him to be on Monday at 9 AM. I'm not going to give many details of the work itself. Let say I had money and was good at business, to make things short it was easy for me. It was a very nice office, a small one with two desks I bought, a bathroom (with a shower and a small dressing room!) and a nice kitchen. So on Monday there we were, young and big Ivan and me. I took the first week to explain to him every detail of the business so he would know what to do. He learned fast and looked happy with his tasks. By the end of the month, we were working 100% of our time. Things moved fast, so did Ivan… Winter came and since I like doing sports I started jogging at noon. It was my favorite moment of the day to do that and the only possible moment to avoid freezing. I changed myself in the dressing room and went out. Ivan kept on working with his headphones on listening to some metal (I hate metal!). After some days of doing that routing I said: —Hey, Ivan! Don’t you wanna go out to do some jogging? —What? jogging? I’m not that fan of that… —I mean not necessary jogging… you could do whatever you want… don’t know… do some training… I mean... There are a lot of gyms nearby… —Really? —his face lit up— That would be great! Thanks, Mr. Johnson. —Ivan, you can call me Andy. —Oh! Ok, sorry, Mr. Johnson. So he kept calling me Mr. Johnson. That was something that made me feel older but at the same time… hot? Don’t know… Oooh, sex… what a mystery you are!! Ok so I kept on jogging and Ivan started the gym. And after that each of us would eat at their desks, working. I was in front of him and the screen blocked us from seeing each other. From time to time I would stand up to answer some doubt next to his computer and sometimes it was the other way around. Normal business, people. Keep going, nothing to see, except Ivan. At first, I didn’t notice it. But it was true that he used to use jogging suits all the time. So, what could I notice below that?. But once I stumbled next to him and grabbed his arm to keep from falling. What happened? Don’t know but that wasn’t an arm! It was like concrete or something even harder… —Are you ok? —he said. —yeah… sorry… sorry I grabbed your arm… —Oh, it’s ok… I didn’t fell anything… So there was something going on… Autumn finally came… and that Monday Ivan came with a t-shirt of a smaller size than his body. I remembered he was big… but now for sure, he was bigger. —Hey, big guy! —Hey Mr. Johnson —he said and left his bag full of who knows what. —You grew some muscles over there… —Oh? ha! yeah! I'm training a lot… —Really? I can tell! How many times? —Oh five… yeah, five… —Nice! Good progress! —Oh, thanks! —he said. I did notice he was quite ashamed. But that wasn’t the only thing that was changing. There was this day. Both of us were working in a certain feature and I wanted to check something with Ivan. —Hey, Ivan! Come here —I said from my desk. He stood up and came just right next to me. I showed him some things that he was doing wrong and told him how to fix them. Then I said: —Ok, we’ll do that later… I’m going to jog —and then I stood up. What happened? I froze… —Are you… bigger… I mean… taller… —Ah? —he said looking at me from his good head taller. Not only taller, I mean he was bigger… way-way bigger than before… his shoulders… he had… he had a chest… —You think? —he said taking a step closer to measure himself My heart skipped a beat. I was two inches from his body. I didn’t realize how big he was. He lifted an arm to measure my height against his chin and I saw what was going on at his arms. Muscles! Big muscles. —Yep… you are right… I'm taller… How tall are you? —Oh… don’t know… 5 foot 7? —Mmmm don’t think so… I was that when we met and I was taller than you… —Oh… —I must be 5 foot 8… —That is tall… —You think? —Yep, you are starting to look big… —Yep! —he laughs— My girlfriends say that too. —Does she? —so there was a girl… What happened? Oh, nothing, Ivan kept growing. Did it make sense? Of course not! I mean he was too old to have a growth spurt… how late was that? Well… never mind… Was I was enjoying the whole thing? I was going nuts… Every day his clothes were tighter, shorter, smaller in comparison with this huge body. But not only he was getting bigger, he was losing some fat… and muscles started to show themselves. —Hey, Mr. Johnson! —Hey… wow! Ivan… what happened? I mean… you look huge! —Haha! You think so? Thanks! I feel great! He would never do a double bicep or something… he was super shy… but there was no chance he could hide that muscle body… —How much do you weight? —Oh… don’t know… I don’t weight myself that much… —Really? We’ll have to fix that! That afternoon I bought a scale. —There you go… step there… take off your sneakers and your sweater… He did… OMG! What a back! He was becoming a beast! —230lb… Ivan, you are huge! —Wow! I didn’t think I was that big… I mean I see myself in the mirror… and I feel good… —Do you? —Yeah! I'm lifting a lot! —How much are you bench pressing? —Oh!… let me see… 100… 150… 300 lbs I guess… —Wow! —Ha! yeah! But my trainer told me is ok for someone as big as me… I'm 6 foot tall now… —What? —haha! Yeah, you were right Mr. Johnson. I'm getting taller! —You are giant! I’ll have to look too high to talk to you! —Haha! You are not that short… —Let me prove my point! —I step closer and look directly to his chest— You see? From here I can only see your chest… huge chest, by the way? But to see your face I have to move back… you see? Huge! —Haha… you are getting smaller Mr. Johnson! So every Monday we had our scaling session and I added a tape to measure his height. —Haha! 250 lb, Mr. Johnson! —Come here, you giant! Let me measure you! He steps next to me. I was facing just the bottom of his chest. Every part of his body was getting too huge for his clothes. I raised my hand and touch the top of his head to read: —6 foot 2… He was enormous but at the same time, he was so shy that was like a little kid in the body of a supergiant muscle man filled with strength from head to bottom. A few weeks later: —Wow! 270lb, Mr. Johnson! —Really? Let see if you grew… But when I tried to measure him I realize I didn’t reach his head. —Let me help you —and lift me so I could reach his head. His hands were enormous and I felt the strength on his arms that didn’t tremble, not even for a second. —Wow! You are getting strong, Ivan! —Haha! Yes, that was easy… how much do you weight? —Let see… The scale said 145… —Wow! That felt like nothing, Mr. Johnson! And then I read the tape… —Ivan, you are 6 foot 3… I was starting to freak out… A month later he went to the scale by himself. —How much, big guy? —I said. —Can’t read… It was true. The scale was next to the wall and to read the scale he had to bend over this chest but the wall was there. —Let me do it —just getting close to him was amazing— 310lb… its official: you are a giant! —You think so? I feel all things around me getting smaller. You too, Mr. Johnson —and he lifts me up— You are getting lighter! Measure me! So I did. —Oh… Ivan, you are 6 foot 5… —Are you for real? Let me see! —he was still holding me— Wow! I'm as tall as a basketball player! —Ehhhh… Ivan… Can you let me go? —Oh Sorry! I forgot I was holding you! You weight nothing, Mr. Johnson you should put some weight! But next week his mood changed dramatically. On Monday he didn’t even get close to the scale. He was silent and I could see he was sad. His expression was even different. —Are you ok, Ivan? —Yes, sure… —You don’t look ok… is there something worrying you? —Mr. Johnson… do you have a wife? —I did —It was 50% true… —Did you ever fight? —A lot. Did you fight with your girlfriend? Did something happen? —She says… —he paused. —She says....? —She says I'm too big. —You are big… that is true. But is there something bad about it? Some people are big... some are not. Is she worried because you grew too much? —No, you don’t get it… It’s not about my height… —Ok, it's about your muscles? —No!!!!! —he almost turned red just because I said that. —Then what is it about….? —and then my heart skipped one… two… three… four beats— Oh! Oh! Oh! You mean… —Yeah… —Oh… —I went silent— Really? I mean… how much? —She says it hurts too much! She doesn’t want to be with me anymore! She thinks its weird… O was starting to feel a heat. —And… mmmmmhh… And… aahhh.. what… do you… think? —I don’t know! —Do you like it? I mean do you like to be… big? —I don’t know! —I think you do, Ivan… He looked at me. He was a boy. A muscle giant with a huge (how fucking much????) cock, but a boy. Strong as a fuck but lost… —I think you know… and even more… I think you like it… am I wrong? you like to be big. He kept on looking at me. I punched him on the shoulder (my god… it was made of concrete) —Don’t be sad, big man. Maybe she is afraid, maybe you need to think about you… what do you want? Can you answer that? You like to train… right? Go to the gym? —yes…. —And you like getting bigger… –yes… —And you like getting taller… —yes —Now, don’t tell me you don’t like to have a big… you know… everyone man would like that… What do you say? You like it or not? —I think I do… —Ok —I stood up— Let’s do this… I'm going to sponsor you… Ivan was shocked. —Sponsor me? —Yes! I’m going to help you in your training. I’m going to sponsor you. You know! I’ll buy you all the things you need to have a proper training. Proteins, carbs, creatine, all that stuff. What do you say? —Really??? —he was smiling now— Mr. Johnson! Don’t know what to say! —Say you’ll train harder! He stood up. His face went up up up and all his body erupted like a mountain of muscles. I didn’t reach his chest anymore. He hugged me and pressed my face against his mighty pectorals. They were there, I felt them like a wall of concrete. Solid and powerful. I had to see him without clothes. I felt like a little kid crushed by a muscle man. —I’ll get huge for you, Mr. Johnson! —and he pressed me harder. Spring came and Ivan started to use fewer clothes. He was not only happier, he was bigger than ever and growing like never before. I bought him t-shirts and a lot of tank tops. Lots of very tiny shorts, and lots of supplements for him to eat. A few weeks later, the heat raised a lot. Teenagers were outside having fun. I was walking to the office and then I saw him coming. Ivan was on his bike bare-chested and using just a pair of lycra shorts. He wasn’t big... He was the biggest stud I’ve ever seen. His back was so wide that the bike looked like a tooth stick. His arms bulged with rocks of muscles and so did his shoulders. Those shoulders were bigger than my head. The muscles on his legs were so big that erupted like jams on each side. He was the image of strength and power. The most impressive man. I ran to catch him at the entrance. —Hey, big man! He stood up and I saw his huge (HUGE) abs… 8 impossible big abs and the two enormous rocks filled with power on top. The biggest chest I’ve seen in a person. I looked him from top to bottom. I did notice the incredible big meat on his pants. But his huge body was shinning. It was all sweaty. The most marvelous man was in front of me. In front and above: he was way taller than me. I only reached his abs. I moved closer. —Nice bike! —I said just as I moved even closer. I looked like a small little girl next to her giant muscle brother. Shirtless and hung as a stud. —It’s not mine. It's from my dad. It's too expensive for me to buy…. —Oh! Really? Do you like me to buy you a bike? —Oh! No! No, Mr. Johnson, you’ve done a lot for me! I could never…. —Stop right there, big fellah! I like to help you! You are happy and that what matter most! Because you are happy, right? —Happy? I'm like crazy… I have to tell you… —Did you grow right? I mean… —I had to say it— you look impressive. I’ve never seen you without clothes before. —Oh yeah! I'm way-way bigger! —We should weigh you! —That would great! —he lifted the bike and carry it above his shoulders. —You first! —I said to follow him. Walking was even more impressive that cycling. Every muscle on his back was working in something different. His legs were so long and big that he has to move them in a weird way. And his arm, his flexed arm that was holding the bike looked like metal or even more: pure muscle of a man. He stepped into the scale… and… broke it! —Ivan, you broke the scale… —Oh! I'm so sorry, Mr. Johnson. I’ll buy a new one! —Don’t be silly! —I said and punched him on his abs cause it was the only part of him I could reach. Believe me: it was as solid as the wall— Go take a shower! I’ll buy a new one! So I run to buy a new even more resistant scale. —There you go. Take off your clothes so we can get the real number. —Sure He said and tried to take off his shirt. But he couldn’t —Haha! I can’t take it. Would you help me? —Sure! —I said trembling! I grab it and helped him. When his muscle torso was free he moved closer. —Thanks! It’s hard for me to take them off, my back is too big. I lost my breath. He steps on the scale and said: —I can’t read. —Oh my god… —What? Did I break it? So sorry, Mr. Johnson! I promise I won’t do it again! —Ivan… you weight 420 lbs… —What? Are you for real? I’m huge! I was right next to that giant muscle man and I did notice the big python starting to move. —Ivan… you are an impressive man… I’ve never seen someone as big and muscular as you. —And you didn’t see me naked! My heart stopped… —Oh Sorry Mr. Johnson, I didn’t mean to say that! It just! Oh shit! —It's ok, Ivan! I understand! You had something to tell me…. —Oh! yes! —he said and he turned red— Last night… ahh, I went to a party… and there were a lot of sexy girls there… —Oh! I see. And you met someone! —Yes! and no! I mean. I didn’t meet them! —Them? He looked at me and turned red. —Did you have sex with more than one girl? He said yes just moving his head and smiling like a child. —Two? —He said no— Three? —he was smiling even more— Wow! How many? Four? —Seven… —What? —It was incredible, Mr. Johnson! They were crazy over my muscles!! They started touching me! And kissing me! It was amazing! You were right, Mr. Johnson! Girls love big muscles! They said I was huge and asked me to flex! I was so horny that I did! It was funny! I’ve never done that before! —You never flex, before? —Nop. —You should try it… —You mean alone? I don’t get it! What for? —I don’t know… I mean… I could help you with that if you want… —Really? that would be great! I would flex for you! Thanks! —No problem! And Ivan, you don’t need to wear a t-shirt in here. So feel free to be like this if you want! —Oh! Great! —and even without noticing he bounced his chest. Unbelievable. Pure mass of muscles. A man filled with strength. —Oh! We forgot to measure you! —Oh, yeah! Without even saying anything he lifts me. But I didn’t have the chance to grab the tape. So he just uses one hand to hold me. I was using his palm as a seat and grabbed from his arm not to fall. It was like a tree, muscles over muscles, strong and expanded. —There you go —he said after getting the tape. —Ivan… you are holding me with one arm… and your arm… is huge! —Oh! yeah! you are not that heavy you know! I use barbels bigger than you. —Can I touch it? Your arm I mean… —Sure! Look at this —and he flexed his arm in front of my face—Look, Its bigger than your head! —Can I touch it? —I was trembling. —Sure! I grab his bicep with both my hands. It was a rock. A huge a powerful rock. The strongest arm I’ve ever felt. On the biggest muscle man, I’ve ever seen. —It's so… hard… —Squeeze it… —Oh… really? Ok… —he was still holding me with his other arm. —Harder… —Oh my god… —Harder… —I can’t… —Haha! You can’t even dent it! —he straightened and I lost balance. Without even thinking I placed my hand on his chest. It was even harder! —Oh sorry! —Don’t be sorry, Mr. Johnson! You can touch my body! These muscles are all yours! I'm this huge because of you! You can touch my chest anytime you want! —Really? —Really… go ahead! Feel how hard I am… —Oh my god… Ivan…you are so big… and hard… —Told you…hit me… —What?? No! —Come on, Mr. Johnson! You won’t hurt me… —Are you sure? —Yeah! —he shouts and bounces his pecs I hit them. It was like hitting a tank. —Again! I punched again! —Come on, man! Hit hard! Hit like a man! I used all my strength. His body was even harder! —Harder! Hit my muscles! I obey. —Come on! Hit this chest! I was exhausted but I tried again. —Told you! —I was so tired that I rested against his chest without noticing it— You can’t hurt me, Mr. Johnson. I'm too big. I was just caressing his chest. —You don’t know how good it feels to have muscles this big! I feel like a fucking beast… I could lift you like this for hours, you know?!! How does it feel, Mr. Johnson? To be next to someone as huge and strong as me? —It's amazing —I was about to start kissing his chest. —Did you ever see someone as big as me? —No —I said not only to answer his question but also because he left me on the floor again. —Stand up next to me, I want to see how big I am. I was almost shaking. I was just millimeters away from his abs. And his python cock was almost burst his shorts. —You are getting smaller, Mr. Johnson. I have to bend to see you over my chest! Hows the view? Am I big enough for you? —You are impressive… —Do you want me to be even bigger? If you want I can grow more. —Oh yes… please… —I can make my muscles much bigger… and you won’t even reach my abs. Do you want that? —Yes, please! —Ok, Mr. Johnson. I’ll get huge for you! I’ll make my muscles even bigger! I’ll show you how big can I be. Enjoy the view, Mr. Johnson! Summer came. What could I say? I was living a dream. Ivan was beyond of being big. He had to duck to pass through doors, he had to turn because his back was wider than frames. He was not only getting big, his muscles were gaining more definition, thickness, and density. He wasn’t using shirts anymore, days were so warm that it made sense for him to be bare-chested. But what a chest! It was like looking someone with his armor on all the time. From time to time a would stand up and go to his place to show him something. But instead of that, something like this happened all the time: —You look amazing, Ivan. —Thanks, Mr. Johnson. I’ve trained shoulders today… You should’ve seen me lifting like crazy… I would place both my hands in each of the huge and rounded shoulders. —Your shoulders are huge… You are such a man… —My muscles could use some massage… And I would do that like a servant. I would massage his back, his shoulders, his arms, and his huge chest. —Mr. Johnson, you are great with your hands… Feel this… And then he would tense his chest. —You are so strong, Ivan. I can’t believe the size of your muscles! You are a god! —Ok, I'm off —he would stand up— This god is going to get even bigger. I would stand next to him. He was so tall that I was face to face with his python. His legs were huge as tree trunks. I placed my hands on his strong legs and huge legs. —You like that, don’t you, Mr. Johnson? —Oh, you are such a man. —You I’ll see how much this man can grow, Mr. Johnson. And he would leave me there. That was almost every day until the bathroom thing happened. One day he came back from the gym. He had not showered there because they had a problem in the gym so he came back to take a shower at the office. I followed him like a zombie. —Can I help you, Ivan? —Oh… Yeah… I’m so hard after training I can barely move. Would you mind taking my clothes off, Mr. Johnson? In other people, I would detect the perversion at these words, but there was none in Ivan. He was like a child. —Oh, sure! He sat on the small bench the dressing room had. He was still taller than me even seated, but I got in front of me his wide and big chest. What a view! He lifted his huge arms and I took his tank top from his waist up, up, up and he was free. All his body was shining, rock solid and filled with the biggest muscles. I placed both hands on his chest and filled his strength. Without even thinking I kissed them. A second after I was frozen. I didn’t dare to look him in the eyes. —That was nice, Mr. Johnson —he said and added— You can kiss my muscles. Girls do that. They go crazy with my chest. You can do that as well. Let me show you. He placed one of his big and powerful hands on my head and pressed me against his chest. —How’s that Mr. Johnson? Feel my power. You can use your tongue, you know. Girls do that. There you go, lick those big muscles. Lick my chest like a girl! Oh, you are good with your mouth. Do you like my big chest? —I love it. —I know you do. He stood up. But he was too big to fit in the dressing room. —Take off my pant, Mr. Johnson Was that possible? I mean how did he fit in those pants? They were super tight at his waist but below that, he had the biggest and most hard legs I’ve ever seen. I started to throw but it was impossible. I only got to see his underpants and his huge python resting there. —What happens, Mr. Johnson? Do you need some help with my shorts? —You are too big, Ivan. I can’t —Haha, don’t worry! Let a man handle that. And with a single movement, he destroyed his shorts. —There you go. I was just looking at his giant muscle body in front of me. My hands were shaking. —Are you going to stay there, Mr. Johnson? —Ivan… —I didn’t know what was I going to say —Don’t be afraid, Mr. Johnson… —Would you… would you call me… would you call me “little man”…? He smiled. —Don’t be afraid, little man. I'm a huge man, but I'm not bad. I have huge muscles but I'm a good guy. Do you want to see my huge cock? I said yes with my head. —But first take off your clothes, little man. I want to see how small you are. I did as fast as I could, though I was trembling. —There you go, little man. You are so small and fragile… haha! it makes me feel huge. He did his first most muscular pose. —Look how big I am… Look at my body. This is how a man should look like. Look how big is my arm comparing to yours. You are so weak… His python was raising below his underpants. —Do you want to see my huge muscle body naked, Little man? You are going to cry when you see the size of my dick. Take off your underpants. I did. —Whats there? You call that a dick? Haha! It's the size of my pinky. Let me show you how big is the cock of a real man! And he started to flex his body and while he talked his cock grew and grew and grew. —I love to be this big and you that small. Hows the view of my body? my big and powerful body. I love to see all the little people like you look at me from below. I love how they get scared of this chest. I have all the power here, you know. I like to see you drooling over my muscles, Mr Johnson. I'm your biggest turn on, ha? You are such a fag for my muscles and you are so small, I could crush you with my fingers. I love seeing you get smaller day after day. I love to show you how much I can grow. You call yourself a man? With that dick? Really? —his python was the size of my arm now and pointing up— This is how a man should look like. Muscles everywhere. Strong as a fuck. Oh, Mr. Johnson, I'm so big. You don’t know how strong I am! All these muscles are so fucking strong. Hit my legs. Come on! Harder! Hit like a man! Yeah! Keep hitting, Mr. Johnson! I don’t feel anything! You are just a fag, this is man. Look at this arm! Look at this muscle! I’m a fucking giant! Lick my legs! There you go, lick them like the fag you are. I should rape you to show you how a real man fucks! But I think I'm too big! I would fucking kill you! Haha! I'm huuuuuge! —his python was almost the size of my leg—. Pay attention Mr. Johnson, LOOK HOW HUUUUUUGE IS THIS FUCKING MAN! And his underpants split in two. The biggest cock I’ve ever seen was above my head. —HAHA! You won’t even reach my cock —he said starting to stroke the immense shaft— I love to be this big. I'm a fucking beast. LOOK AT MY COCK! THIS IS HOW A MAN SHOULD LOOK LIKE! LOOK AT THE SIZE OF MY BODY! OH MR. JOHNSON IM TOO FUCKING BIG! COME HERE, STEP ON THE BENCH, LITTLE MAN! IM GOING TO SHOW YOU HOW BIG I AM I did and there I was in front of that huge, long, and filled with power shaft. He was stroking his monstrous cock very slowly. —ARE YOU SURE YOU CAN TAKE THIS COCK, MR JOHNSON? IT'S TOO BIG FOR YOU! LICK IT. I grab it with both hands and lick the huge head of it. It was way-way bigger than my mouth. —Haha! THERE YOU GO, MR. JOHNSON, LICK MY MUSCLE COCK! YOU HAVE A LITTLE TONGUE THERE… USE IT… COME ON…. WORSHIP MY COCK MR. JOHNSON. WORSHIP MY FUCKING HUGE BODY. DO YOU LIKE MY MUSCLES DONT YOU? YOU CAN’T HELP TO FAG ALL OVER THIS GIANT BODY! YOU WANT MY CHEST, RIGHT?. ITS FUCKING ENORMOUS! IM SUCH A MAN! LICK HARDER! SUCK IT! OPEN THAT MOUTH MR. JOHNSON! MY HUGE COCK WON’T FIT IN THERE IF YOU DON’T OPEN BIGGER! COME ON, DON’T BE A PUSSY! OPEN IT! OPEN BIGGER! HAHA IM GOING TO BREAK YOUR JAW WITH MY COCK! ARE YOU AFRAID? ARE YOU AFRAID OF WHAT THIS MUSCLES CAN DO? YOU CAN’T STOP THIS BODY! IM TOO BIG! TOO STRONG! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND HOW IS IT TO BE THIS STRONG! ITS SUCH A TURN ON! I CAN FUCK EVERY ONE I WANT! HAHA ARE YOU AFRAID? OPEN BIGGER! HAHA GIRLS GO CRAZY ON MY BODY! JUST LIKE YOU, MR JOHNSON. YOU CAN HELP TO WORSHIP MY MUSCLES, SPECIALLY MY CHEST! EVEN NOW YOU WANT TO TOUCH IT RIGHT? YOU WANT TO FEEL HOW STRONG IS MY CHEST! EVERYONE WANTS TO TOUCH THIS CHEST! OH FUCK… I HOPE YOU ARE READY MR JOHNSON. YOU ARE GOING TO DRINK ALL MY MAN JUICE. And he came all over me and sent me to heaven.

Hey. A new story. This one's a bit of an experiment. -X- ==== Really? No? Look, it's fine if you're iffy on the whole proposition. I know it sounds like bullshit. So let me tell you about Joey's story. It all started when he decided to juice, which probably tells you a bit about him. You'd be right if you guessed he was on the small side, back then. Like you. Not scrawny, no. He worked out too much for that, and 167 pounds lean and pumped at 5'7 isn't a bad build, even if he did claim to be 5'8 most of the time. He worked hard for that inch: wore thick-soled shoes; spiked his hair. But he worked out with Trevor Millar, so he could be excused for feeling a bit inadequate. You don't remember Trevor? Right, of course. He moved away last year. BMOC for as long as anyone could remember. Tall; a bit over six feet, and he'd been lifting since he was a kid and it showed. That platinum blond hair and dark tan of his were the perfect complements to the body of your dreams. Huge chest, lean waist; bis that popped like baseballs when he flexed. And let's face it--when wasn't Trevor flexing? Or shirtless. The word around town was that he was allergic to shirts. So, like I was saying, the two of them worked out together. For a while it was good for them both. They pushed each other. They grew. The problem was that Trevor always grew more. Faster. And that's why, earlier in the week, Trevor had told Joey they couldn't work out together any more. "You'd only be holding me back," he'd said. That's why Joey got the juice. He wouldn't say where he got it from, exactly. Never did. But here in San Cristobal, things like this happen, and you just start to accept that it's how things are. The Saturday that it all went down, Joey showed up to Trevor's place with white smile and a hard glint in his eye. When Trevor opened the door, Joey barely noticed. That wasn't like Joey, not at all. He always went a bit wide-eyed around Trevor. Let him take the lead when hanging out, or in the gym. In bed, too, but they'd stopped doing that when Trevor had gotten bored and moved on to bigger and better guys that were more his taste. Trevor wasn't wearing much beyond a pair of gym shorts that day. He folded his arms across his chest, the huge globes tightening with his irritation. His arms flexed dangerously, the blue veins straining under the skin. He wasn't used to being disregarded. He took note of what had superseded his presence in Joey's attention. The smaller jock was cradling a leather-bound case in his hand. He kept stroking the clasp on it. It was only when the weight of Trevor's glower fell upon him that he looked up at last. "Hey dude. Can I come in?" he asked, and pushed past Trevor into his untidy apartment without waiting for a response. That didn't improve Trevor's mood any. It was messy inside, but not much more than usual. A half-drank protein shake on the den table and some weights scattered on the ground, right next to a mirror so that Trevor could watch himself lift. The weights were more than Joey could lift for sure. And the place smelled like man. A bit of musk, some sweat, the faint hint of laundry waiting to be done. Nothing too foul, just unabashedly masculine. It normally sent a little jolt straight to Joey's groin, and sometimes enough so that he had to hide his body's reaction, but to be honest, he didn't have much down there to conceal. Not then, anyway. "What's up with you?" Trevor asked. His eyes followed Joey's fingers as they traced over the case. He was pretty horny that day, and wondered if they wouldn't look better stroking him off. "I finally got this stuff," said Joey, almost as if he was talking to himself. "Been looking for it for a while, but this dealer I know came through." For a second, Trevor thought he meant drugs. Then, awareness dawned. "You're doing 'roids, bro?" That brought Joey out of it. With a deft flick of his wrist, he popped the case open. Whatever was inside didn't look like steroids. There were just two pencil-thin syringes. The liquid inside them was a bit greyish, a bit glittery, like liquid metal. Quicksilver, but darker. "Fuck no, man. This is way stronger; way faster," Joey said. "It's just... a bit of a gamble, that's all." The first part of his proposal had enticed Trevor, but the second, well, that didn't sound good. He scrunched up his features. Even making a face, he was beautiful. Bronzed skin, rosy lips, blue eyes the color of calm seas. A little too pretty for a guy his size, but no one was stupid enough to say it. "What do you mean?" Joey shrugged. "Doesn't work for everyone, the guy said. And if it doesn't--" "Well, that's fucking dumb," Trevor thundered. "Sounds like a good excuse for when it doesn't work. How do you know it won't kill you?" He reached for the case. Joey yanked it away. "It's not gonna. I trust my guy." He didn't sound so sure. "Whatever, man," said Trevor, rolling his eyes. "If you think it'll help you keep up. I clearly don't need the shit." He flexed to prove his point, bringing his big split biceps peak up in front of Joey's face. That pulled the smaller guy's eyes away from his new juice. It also had the reaction that Trevor had been looking for. The smallest hint of movement stirred in Joey's shorts. "Wow," said Joey, in spite of himself. "You're bigger." "Always. Hey, I was thinking. I'm a little bit horny," said Trevor. He reached down with one hand and adjusted his bulge lewdly. Still completely soft, the thick tube of meat hung a good way down his thigh. Trevor was gifted everywhere. Even at his softest, he was longer and wider than Joey was hard. And at its full size, Trevor's beast was-- "No, bro. I wanna try this stuff here with you. That's why I brought it," Joey said. "Like I said..." "Fine. You don't have to try it," said Joey. "More for me, I guess." Without waiting for any more argument, Joey set the case down on the messy table. He pried one of the syringes free and brought it up to the light, flicking it with his fingertip like he'd seen mad scientists do on TV. Maybe it was a bit crazy, but as his eyes drifted back to his behemoth of a buddy, he knew what he had to do. Like he'd been told, he jabbed the syringe into the flesh of his shoulder and squeezed the plunger until it wouldn't go down any more. He shivered. "You all right?" Trevor asked, evincing a rare bit of concern. He had a look on his face like Joey might keel over at any second, but as seconds passed and that didn't happen, his features settled back into vague disinterest. "Yeah, feels fine. Like any other shot I've ever had," Joey said. He sounded a bit distracted. Trevor shrugged his boulder-like shoulders. "So you going to keep on it for a few weeks, see what it does?" Joey frowned. "No, he said it oughtta be instant. Do I look any bigger to you?" He flexed his own arm and looked down at it. It was a nice ball of muscle, if you were into that sort of thing, but no bigger than before. Just fourteen and a half inches, where it had been stuck for months. "You got robbed. Hope you didn't pay too much. Guess you're gonna have to get big the hard way," Trevor couldn't resist the mocking smirk that twisted his lips. But then Joey grunted. It sounded like the wind had been knocked out of him. Trevor's sneer faltered. "What's wrong?" "Nothing," said Joey. Gasped, really. "Feels really good, actually." He grunted again, and this time a spasm seemed to go through his body, like all his small and well-toned muscles were clenching at once, even his still-flexed arm. Especially his arm, which seemed to flex a little harder and rise a little higher, and didn't go back down when the spasm had spent itself. Trevor reached out to touch it without asking. His big, callused hand easily spanned the solid rise of muscle. It still wasn't especially large, but he found himself wondering if it was just a bit bigger than before. Had it always been so hard? He knew Joey had been working his ass off lately. The next spasm answered his questions. It surged through Joey, rocking his body, much more intense than its predecessors. As it passed through little Joey, he seemed to swell, expanding in every direction. Broader, thicker, even taller. His arm, still in Trevor's grip, piled on an inch of mass easily. More, it hardened, turning to concrete beneath his workout buddy's fingers. Trevor's hand fell away, shaking. Disbelief made his eyes wide and his face pale. "Fuck yeah, man!" That was all Joey could manage between spasms. Another one hit, and his toes burst through tennis shoes suddenly too small for his growing feet. A second, and seams popped along the shoulders and arms of his shirt. With the third, his grunts dropped in pitch from tenor to rich baritone. It looked like he should be in pain, with his body twisting and transforming, muscles reshaping themselves and pressing their jagged striations up under his skin. But pleasure drowned out whatever pain Joey felt, a fact made clear by the steel-hard impression of his average member pressed up against the fabric of his gym shorts. They were increasingly inadequate as his ass swelled into two spheres of solid muscle. He stretched up to his full height. To Trevor's shock, 'little' Joey's eyes were just a shade below his own. When Joey groaned once more, Trevor braced himself to see his formerly small partner surpass him. He held his breath. But Joey didn't get any taller or any broader. Instead, his cock twitched in his shorts. He threw his head back, moaning as if he might cum. Instead, the shape of his dick lengthened and widened, straining out like a water balloon. Another jerk and it swelled again, going from average to thick, and by the third, it strained toward his waist. The changes subsided abruptly, leaving him gasping and swaying and his shorts drenched with a torrent of precum. When at last he came to himself, Joey saw Trevor still shocked and staring. Trevor, who'd always seemed impossibly large, who was now not that much bigger than the new and improved Joey. Trevor, whose gaze was developing a tinge of envy. Trevor, whose impossible cock was at full mast in his shorts. Over Joey, and the stud he had become. As Joey regarded his gym partner, still riding the wave of hormones and adrenaline from his incredible transformation, he felt that something familiar was missing. It took him a moment, and then he realized what it was. He'd always been a little afraid of Trevor whenever they'd spent time together. Whether it was their size difference, or his larger friend's somewhat mercurial temper, all of their interactions had been drenched in an undercurrent of fear. And now that fear was gone. "You like what you see?" Joey asked, ego buoyed by endorphins and newfound confidence. He tried to lift his shirt, but it was much too small for that. Painted on, almost. So he reached up, and with boldness that surprised even he, tore it at the neck. It ripped like tissue paper, revealing two heaving pecs bulging beneath a thin dusting of dark hair. Below them were eight perfect abdominals, marching downward toward his groin with the precision of a perfectly cobbled path. He couldn't wait to see his new cock. So he didn't. He peeled his precum-soaked shorts away from his Adonis belt and tugged them down, which wasn't easy given the mass of his legs and muscle ass. It was so worth it. His hands had grown along with him. Whereas before, he'd been able to stroke his dick with a few fingers, now it took both hands to span the shaft. There were at least a couple inches of hot, veiny meat extending beyond them. And good luck closing those fingers around the tower of flesh. It was way too thick for that now. In that time, Trevor had recovered. "My turn," he said. He grabbed the second syringe. Joey reached for it, but Trevor swiped it away. "You said I could have it." "You didn't want it," said Joey. "I do now," said Trevor. He jammed it into his shoulder and injected the grey gunk inside. All the old feelings flooded back into Joey: the fear, the jealousy, the frustration. He'd come over meaning to share the experience with Trevor, but now that he was finally on par with his friend, he liked it. And now Trevor would be the big guy again, except this time, he'd be gigantic. Trevor, for his part, seemed eager to reestablish his dominance. Deep blue eyes shining with triumph, he cast the syringe aside and hiked his shorts down with his thumbs. His double-digit dick thwacked against his belly. Even the new Joey had to marvel its length and width. "Let's see how big you got, stud," said Trevor, adding a teasing, "While we're still close in size." He reached out and grabbed Joey's dick, pressing the two oversized cocks against each other. To Joey's shock, his was nearly as long as Trevor's, and maybe just a bit wider. Even after all that change, Joey was still second best. Trevor was still a little broader, about an inch taller. Still the better man. Trevor grinned at him. "I think I feel it starting." And then something happened that neither of them expected. Trevor's body spasmed all over, ripping the breath from his lungs. When the fit passed, he found that he was staring at Joey dead in the eyes. Well, that wasn't right. He glanced down, thinking that Joey was standing on the tips of his toes, or maybe wearing those thick-soled shoes he'd always worn to boost his height. But no, Joey's feet were flat on the ground. And they were bare, his ruined shoes on the ground nearby. With a wave of weakness, the room spun around him. When he was able to collect his thoughts, Joey was supporting him with one big hand on Trevor's arm. That hand looked bigger than it had before. "What the fuck?" Trevor asked. "I took the shit. Why are you growing again?" Joey hesitated for a heartbeat, a specter of his old fear staying his tongue. "I don't think I'm changing. You are," he said, at last. "That's not how this shit works!" Joey backed away, and Trevor stumbled. "I tried to say--" "You what!?" "It's a bit of a gamble, the guy said. Some people have an inverse reaction," Joey managed, his features going rigid with horror as Trevor slipped down another inch or two. Then Trevor made his second big mistake. He took a swing at Joey. Joey caught the fist easily. In fact, he was shocked that it had been so easy. Trevor had always seemed like a giant bull, unstoppable in his power. But at that moment, it dawned on Joey that he was the bigger man. He was in control. Trevor took the lesson a bit more slowly. His hands scrabbled for purchase but found only sweat-slicked bulges of hot muscle. That was his second mistake, because the writhing of his dwindling body only served to turn Joey on. "C'mon," Joey said, his rush of confidence rekindling. Trevor wrestling against his body with such futility made him feel almost godlike. And like a god, he decided to take what he wanted. Trevor's tremendous cock bounced as Joey hefted him in the air with surprising ease. He wondered, absently, how much mass Trevor had lost already. The change seemed to be slowing, now, but he couldn't be much larger than Joey had been before. All rational thought left the moment the head of his new-grown dick found Trevor's hole. The former jock's cursing and struggles halted in one cry of mingled pain and pleasure as Joey pushed in. It didn't take Joey long. He used Trevor, holding him easily aloft. Only a few long thrusts into his tight ass, and Joey's long-held load churned up in his balls, molten and white hot. Trevor came first. With every spurt that sprayed out of his cock, it wilted a bit, until it didn't look very impressive at all. And for Joey, that was all it took. He was the bigger man. Bigger and better in every way. That sent him over the edge, his cock bucking and filling Trevor with his seed. The orgasm stretched on into forever. When it was all over with, Trevor huddled up on the couch, staring at Joey with a mixture of hate and envy as he tried on one of Trevor's tank tops. It fit, and that just made Joey smile. He wanted to feel bad, but everything that had happened, Trevor had done to himself. Minus the last part, of course, and that wasn't anything they hadn't done together dozens of times before. So, he was pretty much done with guilt when he turned to Trevor and said, "I'm going to go to the gym. I'd invite you, but you know how it goes. You'd only be holding me back." And that's how Joey got big, and how Trevor got small. Yeah, it's a gamble, but you look like the gambling type. The price? Negotiable. Really, the important part is that there's one big rule. You don't tell anyone where you got it. Just like Joey. You don't, because that could mess with what we're setting into motion here, and the boss wouldn't like that at all. No, no. I'm not threatening. Just saying. He's been working at this for a while, ever since that mess back in '03. And, well, that's more 'need to know' information, and you... all you should care about is the fact that this little syringe has your wildest dreams in it. Or your worst nightmares, sure. But I can tell your answer already from the look in your eyes. Heck, I can practically hear you thinking it. So what do you say? Are you in?

I knew what I did could land me in jail, but everyone in the brokerage business was doing it. I was sure I wouldn’t get caught, but my luck didn’t work out that way. Now I found myself entering an upscale white-collar prison in upstage New York. I had no idea how much my life was about to change. “Put him in the cell with Tiny – this pretty boy doesn’t stand a chance with anyone else,” the elderly guard at the check-in point said to two other guys as I stood there waiting. “He must know some prick in high places. It says here that the fucker gets to keep all his stuff – even his own clothes. I’m feeling generous today, man, so I’m going to let it happen.” The guy tossed me a box containing my stuff and the other two guys began leading me through a maze of hallways and sliding iron gates until we reached cell number 423. One guy opened the barred door and pushed me in. It was late, so most of the large space was dark. I could barely make out a figure lying on a bed against the back wall. There was a couple of desks, a commode, a sink, and my bed, which was up front near the door. I placed my things on the desk near my bed. “What’s up,” I said, trying to appear calm and cocky. I had been warned about the need to act in control from the get-go. “Hmmph,” was the only sound that was returned. It almost sounded like a low growl. The hairs on the back of neck sprang to life. There was something in the deep guttural voice that made me worry that my cellmate was sick – like he had a bad cold or worse. I couldn’t make the guy out in the dimmed light, so I just returned to unpacking my stuff. I hear the bed make a noise like it’s screaming for mercy as Tiny moves to sit up. I force myself to not look over – mainly because I want to make it clear that I’m not here to make friends. As I unfolded some clothes a new noise came from the back – one that forced me to look. It was like heavy breathing, but it was steady and had a rhythm to it. I turned and stepped further into the cell, in order to move out of the glare from the hallway and get a better look at Tiny. What I saw caused me to fall back against my desk. I had to grab the chair to prevent myself from falling. There, on the bed, cranking out alternate curls with the heaviest looking dumbbells I’d ever seen, was something that looked like a cross between a rhino and a real-life Paul Bunyan. The first thing I noticed was size – monstrous size. Every thing about Tiny was the complete opposite of the name. The dude must have been fucking six-seven or more. I could even tell while he on the bed because his head was higher than mine and the guy was sitting down. I first thought the orange prison outfit he was wearing must have been old because it had holes everywhere and looked worn out, but then I noticed that it was actually ripped at the seams in many places because what was probably the largest size they made couldn’t contain the monstrous body. There were rips at the shoulders, across the biceps, and big tears running up and down the upper legs. The front part of the uniform was unzipped down to the guy’s stomach just because he couldn’t have made the two sides meet if he had an army of guys tugging – the massive chest beneath was just too huge. These gaps in the material caused the second mind-blowing realization in the midst of my astonished first look at Tiny. The man was covered in manly fur – just like the lumberjack mythical figure of olden stories. Dark hair cascaded over the two giant pecs busting through the upper part of his outfit. His sleeves had obviously been shredded by thick forearms and then rolled up to his elbows – revealing a forest of heavy fur there, too. But what really drew my eye was the substantial head of dark hair and the closely cropped dense beard and mustache. I instantly thought of old commercials for Brawny paper towels and the giant flannel shirt-wearing monster that promoted them. This guy could have easily been the live version of that animation. Tiny – how could this man have that nickname - didn’t look at me. He concentrated on the movement of the immense looking weight in each hand, as he brought them up one at a time. The motion made both biceps swell up through the holes in the sleeves like a pair of giant whales alternately breaking through the ocean surface. He was grunting loudly and it was obvious the weight on one dumbbell was more than my entire body could ever lift. The sight before me made me become an ignorant fool immediately. I had no control over any part of my body or mind. “Fuck, you’re huge!” blurted out of my mouth without any forethought. The weights stopped in mid-motion and the man lifted his head to look at me. Eyes so piercingly blue that it was like looking at a double full moon on the darkest night of the year. He said nothing and his stare made me almost piss on myself. I suddenly turned into some kind of frightened puppy that knows he has done something wrong – cowering in front of his owner. Paul Bunyan had suddenly turned into a terrifying colossal beast and I wished I could disappear. The man finally lowered his gaze and began cranking out reps again – what number was he on by now, a hundred? Or was it more? The cell was filled with a mixture of his deep exhaling gusts of wind and grunts of exertion. The sound was so primeval that I was sure if we had been in the jungle gorillas would have flocked to us by the hundreds just to be fucked by this behemoth. I was shocked by my sudden need to be dominated by this man. What was up with me? I was a powerful man that had never thought of another guy in this way. I usually told other people what to do, but here I was with this deep desire that my cellmate use me like a toy. I shook my head in hopes of clearing these unwanted new thoughts from my head. That’s when the foundation of the building shook – I looked over and saw that Tiny had dropped his weights to the floor. He was sitting there rolling his clamped fists in circles, which made his forearms and biceps explode like mountains of granite-like muscle. My vision blurred as my mind tried to comprehend his size and power. Then the man stood up and my legs gave out. I knew Tiny was a giant, but nothing could have prepared me for the way that his huge frame filled the entire pace. It was like those small toys you got when you were a kid – those capsules you’d drop in water and they’d balloon out to large sponge animals or something. His upper body expanded beyond anything I had ever seen before. His shoulders would have almost filled a double doorframe and his pecs seemed to poke out so far that I could have stood under them in a thunderstorm, not feeling a drop of rain. And seeing his super pumped-up arms made me want to lay on the floor in a fetal position and suck my thumb. Nothing in my entire life had ever made me feel so weak. I knew instantly that all my preconceptions of strength were now obsolete. Only now did my eyes feast on something that was true power. My subconscious clearly understood this and that’s why I had turned into such a shivering meek wimp, for compared to Tiny that’s exactly what I was. The huge man just stood there tensing different parts of his body. My eyes would dart to whatever muscle he chose to tighten and my stomach would do somersaults as I gazed on how everything bulged to insane proportions. I could not fathom how a human could grow so enormous. My ogling his body ended when I suddenly became aware that the man was staring at me. I hadn’t even looked up at his face, but my entire being knew that the giant was boring a hole through me. I glanced up at his beautiful, but hard, face. He didn’t speak at first and this caused me to get even more frightened than I already was – fearful that I might do something to cause him to easily rip my body apart. My lip actually started trembling and for a second – but only a second – I thought I saw pity in his eyes. When he spoke his deep voice reverberated off the cellblock’s walls and it felt like a helicopter was landing inside my chest. "Come here boy," he said calmly, but I could hear such authority in his voice that I knew my life depended on my response. I looked around – as if he might be talking to someone else. I so didn’t want to do anything wrong, but in my present state of complete fear I also found it hard to make my body move. I waited too long. "Come here boy," he said again in a louder voice. The increased sound level and the fact that he had asked a second time caused my body to react without even getting orders from my brain. My legs jerked forward quickly and I basically ran to him, not gauging how fast I was moving or how far his chest stuck out from the rest of his body. My head bumped into his pecs hard and it was like hitting the side of a mountain. I bounced off and fell backwards to the ground. My hand instinctively moved to my forehead to rub away the pain caused by his marbled muscle skin. For a second I got confused and wondered if I had actually smacked into the concrete wall instead, but then I looked up and see Tiny bent over so he was able to see me over his massive chest. It was the first time I had seen him smile, but it actually made me again shiver in fear. "Damn boy you are weak, get your ass up now," he ordered as he straightened back up. I quickly stood up, but I couldn’t look at the man. I kept my gaze downward because I was ashamed. I then got my first up close look at his giant quads – wide and bulging through the stretched-to-the-max tears in the upper legs of his uniform. It looked as if any movement at all would make the rest of the material shred to pieces and fall from his tree-trunk legs. My shock and admiration for his legs did not go unnoticed by the colossal beast. "Mmm, good boy,” he said firmly. “That’s the first correct thing you’ve done since you got here. It’s right that you should admire my monster quads. You like ‘em, don’t you, little man. Yeah, those things could squeeze the life out of you – without much effort at all." With that, the big man turned his body a little to the right and he looked up. I followed his gaze. There was a thick metal bar running across the cell. It looked like it had been slammed into the walls on either side, mainly because chunks of the plaster and concrete were missing. It was way too high for me to reach, but I knew a simple jump from Tiny could take his hands to the strong looking piece of metal – and that’s exactly what he intended to do. He pushed off the ground lightly and latched on to the bar with his huge hands. "Now boy, grab onto my waist, I need more weight as I do my pull-ups," he said, without even looking at me. "Uh . . . what? How do I do that . . . sir?" I asked without thinking. I immediately knew the question was a mistake. "Put your arms about my waist and place your legs around my lower body,” he said gruffly. “Damn, boy, are you deaf, dumb or stupid? Or maybe all three." "No sir," I replied quickly. I immediately wrapped my arms around his rock hard stomach and tried to lock my hands across his back, but the guy was just too wide and thick. I squeezed tightly, pressing my face into his chiseled abs. I lifted my feet and latched them on to his hard calves. My entire body quivered from touching so much muscle and my cock became harder than granite. Instantly, both bodies traveled up into the air and then back down as Tiny began to crank out reps. I glanced up and freaked out, watching dumbfounded as he let go of the bar with his right hand first, doing chin-ups with just that arm, and then he did the same with his left. After about 50 repetitions with each arm by itself, I could sense that he settled in to do a long set with both arms. He began to pull us up very slowly – getting the best pump possible and making sure his shoulders, back, and lats were doing all the work. The motion was making his muscle wings burst out insanely during each slow raise. A light sheen of sweat was spreading across his body – nothing compared to the buckets of sweat pouring down my body, caused by me trying desperately not to spew cum into my underwear. My arms kept sliding down his hard-as-marble body and I’d have to squeeze hard and squirm back up his long torso. This caused my face to go bouncing in and out against the thick-as-shit abdominals across his roided gut, which actually caused a lot of pain. It also made my throbbing cock brush against his more than solid quads, sending me closer and closer to ejaculation. There was no way, however, I was going to complain. After what seemed like 75 to 100 reps, the big man stopped in mid lift – I swear his arms were holding all our combined weight like it was nothing – and looked down at me. My heart stopped from fear I had done something wrong. “We’ll take care of that little boner in a while, boy,” he growled. His voice was so intensely masculine and direct that just this short sentence caused my cock to deflate like a pin-poked balloon. I couldn’t explain the reaction, but I had never felt so puny and insignificant. I actually began to shake from fearful thoughts of how he would “take care” of my hard-on. I felt Tiny’s chest and gut shaking a little and I realized the man was chuckling at me – even though it felt like a hungry bear’s stomach rumbling. That’s when I realized he sensed my fear completely. I also could sense he loved the response his presence caused. At the same time I could tell there was something else percolating in the behemoth’s brain. It was something I couldn’t name, but it was like he had a sixth sense concerning how I’d suddenly and unexplainably become such a muscle whore. He knew he could control me just by flexing his super-enlarged body. I unconsciously started whispering numbers as he cranked out more reps. I went deeper into some kind of muscle trance as I continued to brush my face up and down his hard sweaty abs. I didn’t even realize I was moaning like an animal in heat by the time he was done with 200 repetitions. A huge circular pre-cum stain had appeared at my crotch, making it look like I had already shot a big load. Tiny knew instinctively, though, that I wouldn’t erupt until he gave the order. He finally started to slow down the movement of our bodies and actually held the last lift for a long time – as if he were trying to squeeze a few more fibers of muscle into his already massive-packed biceps. He lowered his body and his feet touched the ground. I continued to hang onto the large sweat-drenched man as if my life depended on it. “You can let go now, boy,” he said, chuckling again. While I was forcing my unwilling body to pry itself from his hard muscles, Tiny raised his arms to stretch out the pump. The movements actually made his body become harder and I was literally shoved off – falling to the ground again. At the same time the giant above me flexed into a double biceps pose and instantly I heard the sound of material ripping. I scooted back on the floor, getting my line of vision beyond his protruding chest. I mouthed the word fuck when I saw what had happened. The upward motion of Tiny’s arms and the insane peaks of his guns caused his prison uniform to tear completely in two. The orange jumpsuit was now a strained shirt barely covering his upper body and what looked like a pair of skin-tight shorts because of the way his quads bulged. Tiny continued to stretch and flex parts of his body. He flared out his lats and I immediately heard a second loud tearing noise. We both knew, without even looking that the upper part of the uniform had shredded down the middle of his giant back. And as if the material was confirming what we both knew it slid off his giant shoulders as soon as he dropped his arms. He caught the two pieces of material in his big paws, wadded them together and tossed them to me. They were soaking with sweat and smelled like an army of men had shared wearing them for weeks. The sight of his upper body was so unbelievable all I could do was whimper loudly like a hurt little body. His enormous chest completely boggled my mind and I simply stared with my mouth hanging open as he bounced his mega pecs. I began to shake my head in disbelief and this caused the behemoth to laugh hard and loud. He pointed to my crotch. “That better just be pre-cum, boy,” he said in a somewhat terrifying tone. “I’m still counting on you to churn out enough spunk to fill my big rock-hard belly. I could tell he was fully aware that I was saving my load for when he gave the order, but he wanted to make sure I knew he was in control – as if there were any doubt. He wasn’t shocked at all that his big muscled body could make me leak more pre-cum than I’d shoot in a month – even if I jerked off each day! His confidence and self-awareness was so intense that it felt like some kind of invisible force that surrounded him. His mere presence made me want to find ways to make him happy or win his pleasure. I was a muscle-whipped puny man who only desired this powerful monster standing in front of me. ********* The behemoth nicknamed Tiny stood in front of me – smiling like the Cheshire Cat. His size was so beyond comprehension that my mind simply shut down and I no longer tried to make sense out of the mountain of muscle looming over me. I just stared at his body and enjoyed the rush of blood and cum he caused in my body. My entire being focused only on his hard pecs, his bulging arms and those shoulders that seemed wider than our prison cell itself. By this point I had raised the remnants of his shirt to my nose and I was inhaling deeply. My other hand went directly to my crotch without any message from my brain and started pushing up and down against the hardness in my pants. The material at my nose reeked of Tiny’s scent – a mixture of sweat, muscle, musk, and manliness. I glanced up at the big guy as I continued to sniff his pungent aroma into my body. I let my tongue dart out and run across the shirt – sucking in some sweat. I was trying desperately to get some of his man-juice into my body, thinking it might help get a permanent feeling of the giant inside of me. I rubbed the shirt all over my face and hoped the smell would stick with me forever. As I lowered the shirt back to my mouth, I saw that the big guy was grinning at my actions. He knew I was his completely. “Damn, boy, my thoughts about you were right. You are a sweet muscle-loving pig, aren’t you,” Tiny said as he continued to bounce his monstrous pectorals just to tease me. “Well, I think you need to get up close and personal with all my bulging friends, here. It’s time for you to clean the sweat off of this fucking big body, boy. Let’s get that shirt sopping wet for you. Scramble over here and wipe me all over. And after you clean the massive top half, you can help this giant out of his pants and clean down there, too. I’m so huge it’s hard for me to bend over and pull these tight things off.” Tiny chuckled as he said this. The man’s voice made my balls churn out more juice and force it into my hard cock – causing me great pain. I still wasn’t going to shoot until he said I could. The big man knew nothing in the world could keep me from wiping down his muscles. He also knew the idea of seeing his enormous legs – and the giant club that swung between them – was almost too much for me to handle. I stood up quickly and then stopped in my tracks. I wanted to ask what to do, but I knew I shouldn’t. I reached up – having to stand on my tiptoes – and was barely able to reach the top of his massive shoulders. I ran the shredded shirt over his swollen traps and then started moving down his bulky chest. The shirt soaked up the sweat from the fur that covered his pecs like a sponge dropped in a bucket of water. Being this close to his body caused my knees to give out again and I had to brace myself by placing my free hand up against the big man’s stomach. His manly gut was hard as stone and I could easily feel the ruts between his tight abs. I forced my legs not to buckle and I marveled at how there was no give to his fur-layered gut. I then moved the shirt down the trail of hair in the middle of his stomach and wiped across each perfect row of muscles. It felt like speed bumps in a parking lot. I finish rubbing his body with the shirt and noticed the thing was so wet it felt like I had been soaking it in a tub. I quickly brought the rag to my mouth and sucked in hard – gathering a mouthful of his man-sweat. I savored the liquid in my mouth and then swallowed. I hoped that it would make me taste his body for days. At this point I placed the shirt on the desk behind me and reached out hoping to pull the bottom half of Tiny’s torn jumpsuit off of his body. I could tell, just from looking, that it was going to be difficult to get the tight fabric over his monstrous thighs. “Hell, boy, just tear these things off my body. I need to let my monster hang free – and quickly,” he said loudly and I could see his huge cock twitching through the fabric. “Here, I’ll help you out.” And with that statement the big man flexed his quads – causing layers of muscle to explode everywhere. The stretched-thin material ripped in multiple places at one time and then, as if magically, fell from his tree-trunk legs. It all landed in a pile on the ground at his feet. Seeing the striations and valley-like cuts in his legs caused me to fall forward from lust. My hands brushed against the mega pouch of his jock as I braced myself against his thighs. I moaned out loud as I felt the heat emanating from the stuffed stretched-to-the-max piece of material trying to contain his cock. I then became dizzy as I tried to grab the front of his monstrous quads, which felt harder and thicker than marble. I let out a loud whimper as I gazed at the obviously old jock strap. It had holes all over it – with juicy bits of meat bulging out. It seemed like any movement by his dick would cause the material to bust just as the bottom of his jumpsuit had done. The pitiful cloth was strained beyond belief – trying to contain a huge slab of beef that matched the giant size of the man in front of me. Tiny’s rod was much bigger than my forearm and his balls looked like basketballs stuffed in a weak bag. I gasped out loud and my right hand went to my mouth. I had never seen such a beautiful and frightening sight at the same time. I was scared at what this big dick would do to my small body, but I was also drawn to the idea of riding his monstrous pole. I begin to question how a man could be so huge below the waist, but then I simply accepted it as so because the big club had to match the rest of him. I absentmindedly grabbed the wet torn shirt behind me and started to move it all over Tiny’s big quads – never taking my eyes off of his giant cock. I then remembered that I was supposed to take the jock off too. I stopped suddenly, realizing that as soon as I touched this huge man’s love-pouch I was surely going to pass out. I knew I couldn’t do it. He must have realized what I was feeling, as well, because I watched as the beast flexed his giant prick and the strap immediately exploded off of his body, hitting me in the face like a giant rubber band. I felt great pain, but loved every moment. “Damn boy, you are a good cell mate,” he exclaimed as I started to grasp what he had just done. “I’m going to do you another favor, little man. Pick up that jock that just smacked you in the face.” Tiny continued to flex his cock so it bounced up and down in front of me. I simply stared at the big log and moaned out loud. Suddenly, I was only aware of the big man in front of me - nothing else in the world mattered. He could have asked me to do anything and I would have obeyed. I reached down, grabbed the strap, and placed it in the huge waiting hand of my cellmate. The giant took the large busted strap and tied it around my neck – almost like a scarf. “There you go, little one,” he said smiling at me, “this way you can’t say I’ve never given you anything nice. And also, now my manly musk will stay with you always.” With this statement, Tiny wiggled his waist and caused his huge hardened cock to strike against my face. I sucked in hard and held my breath, trying not to shoot a load of cum from the thrill of feeling his dick banging against my cheek. He hit me a little hard on the third pass and the smack that echoed in the room was loud and sounded painful. This caused the big man to roar with laughter. Tiny laughed mainly because the light tap had actually sent me flying across the floor against my bed. Even the guy’s dick had tons of power. What he thought was a light tap could have probably brought down a tree. I sat up slowly and looked at the big man. He was smiling, but not in a way that offered remorse. He loved the fact that his cock could send me flailing. I took a deep breath and loved the fact that the jock around my neck helped me to smell the best part of him – his muscled giant beef-pole. My body jiggled with excitement as I savored the strong whiff of manliness. Still laughing, Tiny walked over to me and looked down his muscled body at my smallness. With lightning speed he bent over, grabbed my pants, and ripped both the slacks and underwear from my body. It didn’t register what had happened until I felt my cock standing straight up in the air and a cool breeze rushing against my skin. “Now get up and finish the job, boy. We don’t have all night,” he said and his order made me very nervous. “My underarms need cleaning.” Tiny straightened and held out his big tree limbs at both sides of his body. I stood up quickly. I looked at the big man’s face and he could see I had a deep pleading in my eyes. It was obvious I wanted to speak and he knew I wasn’t going to say anything until given permission. “What’s up boy?” Tiny asked gruffly. “This had better be good. You can talk while you continue your job.” “Please sir,” I ask softly, “may I use my faced to clean your pits?” “Shit, boy,” Tiny said loudly, “there’s nothing better in the world than a sweet tiny muscle worshipper. Sure you can use your face. And after that it will be my pleasure to give you a special treat.” I almost came at that moment from the excitement and anticipation. I again had to stand on tiptoes to bury my face into his right pit. It hurt my nose as I hit his hard muscled skin, but I marveled at the fact that even his pit felt like stone, even forgetting the pain. I immediately began to lap up his pit hair with my tongue and lips. I quickly moved around the entire cavernous area. I even used the hair on my head to dry it off when I had completely licked it all. I then moved across his chest – a distance that felt like an entire county – to the other pit and did the same. My pre-cum had turned into a steady drizzle by this point. “Hurry up, boy,” he said expectantly, “I’ve got something else planned for you.” I pushed back from his body, pretty sad that I couldn’t continue to bury my entire face in his pit, but I was also very excited about whatever it was he was going to do to me. I stood there – in front of the giant – like a proud little boy. I was definitely ready for my prize. Tiny then grabbed me in his hands and easily carried me over to his bed, placing me back down on the ground. He then bent over and pressed a finger against one of the cinderblocks in the wall. It gave easily, because of his strength, and the big man reached into a secret compartment, pulling out a big bag of something that seemed like a dark liquid. He then grabbed a big cup-like container off of his desk and squeezed some of the gooey looking thick mass from the bag into the large opening. He lifted the blender-sized container in one hand and then wrapped his other hand around my neck, pulling my face into his huge right pec. “And now for the major ingredient!” he said, smiling broadly. With that, Tiny wrapped his fingers in my hair and pulled my head back, roughly. He brought his face down and pressed his lips against mine. He shoved his tongue down my throat and started sucking. It was, again, a mixture of pleasure and pain. He released my hair and lowered his arm around my waist. The suction of his mouth kept my face against his. Tiny then lifted my body into the air as he continued to kiss me with more eroticism than an army of over-sexed Italians. I was still amazed by how easy it was for him to lift my body with just one arm. His strength made me feel like such a weakling, but the security of his massive arm around my body quickly erased any bad feelings. He then slid his hand around my ass and lifted me higher. My mouth separated from his with a loud pop and he quickly guided my rock-hard cock to his waiting hot mouth. He sucked my prick in like some super-charged vacuum and then began to milk me like a pro. In between hurricane-like forceful sucks on my cock, he spoke from the side of his mouth. “Come on boy, give me your sweet cream,” he said quickly and then sucked again. “Even a puny ass like you has to have some – every man has some spunk.” Tiny then continued to suck me hard as he laughed out loud. He manhandled my body like I was nothing but some kind of rag doll. Right before he could feel that my body was going to shoot like a rocket, he pulled me away from his face and shoved my cock into the large container. I blew like a massive volcano that had been building up for centuries. My body bucked around in Tiny’s grip, but he held me in place as if I weighed only a few pounds. He squeezed my body tighter with his bulging arm, as if he hoped it would help me shoot more of my sweet juice into his giant cup. I continued to spew cum so hard that I worried organs might come blowing out my dick. I looked down – even as I continued to rock violently from the ejaculation – and saw that the big container was actually overflowing. “Damn, little man,” he said and then whistled, “look at you – shooting enough juice for your big giant and then some. I’ve never seen anyone fill my cup!” I was still flopping around in his arm, but I could tell my cock was no longer spitting out juice. It had begun to do something akin to dry heaves. Tiny must have noticed the same thing. He quickly used my hard cock to stir up the cum-concoction in his glass. He then easily tossed my body onto his bed and momentarily watched as my body continued to convulse on the mattress and my cock twitched back and forth hard. He then took a large swig of the juice and I was conscious enough to notice it left a milky-white coating on his mustache. “Shit, boy,” he exclaimed looking down at me, “you’ve got some sweet man-milk. It’s like a fucking cum shake. This stuff is going to make me grow more than ever before, little man – just you wait and see. You’re going to be ready to explode again in about five minutes when you see my body expanding like some kind of pornographic 3-D movie.” His words made my semi-resting body begin to flop around on the bed again as my cock shot painfully hard instantly.