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  1. Austin peeled off the skintight t-shirt from his bulging muscles, tossing it to the floor. He glanced at the mirror - almost pausing in shock from his own beauty - and flashed himself a seductive wink. God damn. He was beautiful. So god damn beautiful. And he was making himself hard as hell. Austin had a face that would look right at home as a Hollywood sex symbol. His mysterious brown eyes and powerful jawline were irresistible, and when he spread those lips into his trademark cocky smirk, he drove the bitches wild. He realized he could make women do anything he asked if he gazed into their eyes long enough - girls, and even some guys, were always happy to do minor favors and give him random gifts in exchange for a few moments staring at his perfect face. He still couldn't believe his transformation. Only a year ago he was an awkward nerd, his high school's valedictorian and a skinny 5'6 twig of a boy. Puberty caught up late, but when it hit him, it hit him like a fucking truck. Almost overnight, his pimples disappeared and his skin cleared. His jaw grew heavier, his voice deeper, his gaze stronger. On a friend's recommendation, Austin replaced his glasses with contacts. Suddenly, every girl in class was chatting him up and messaging him after class. "Damn, college girls are so much nicer than high school girls!" he told his friend one day. The friend rolled his eyes. "That's not it. You're just hot now." Austin took a quick selfie, and to his surprise, his friend was right! He was cute. Handsome. Sexy. Fuck, he was boning up looking at his own face. When did he get so arrogant? Austin started growing around the same time. Over the course of two months, we blasted up from 5'6 to 6'0 - Nearly an inch of height every week! "You're soooo cute!" a random chick told him one day, "and you're so tall as well!" Austin shrugged. "Yeah, I know." He was used to unprovoked compliments at this point. "You'd look even better if you bulked up, though," the girl continued. "Like, you look great already. But you're super lean. Girls love guys with muscles!" So Austin hit the gym. He had never done so before. He was really weak at the start, a frail 140lbs, but his body seemed to blossom with strength and muscle after every workout. Before long he was addicted, lifting 6 times a week, gaining muscle each and every day. He learned about "bulking", and how he needed to eat a shit ton of food if he wanted to grow bigger. Fortunately, Austin had a crazy fast metabolism, so he never gained a pound of fat. Every waking moment Austin was either eating or lifting. The rich girls who flirted with him were super happy to take him out to eat - they didn't mind spending a few hundred dollars a week on protein and carbs for a few moments with this irresistibly handsome, genetically perfect muscleboy. Austin gained 5 pounds the first week, then another 5 pounds the second, and another 5 pounds the third. People told him that he would hit a "plateau" soon, but a few months and over a hundred pounds of muscle later, he was still growing like a weed. As his body grew his appetite did too, and soon Austin had a squad of thirsty girls (and a few guys!) who were paying for his expensive bodybuilder lifestyle. At their request, Austin ditched his lame high school outfit and started taking his wardrobe seriously. With every visit to the mall, he was surrounded by a group of girls and gays who were only too glad to feel him up and provide fashion advice for his rapidly growing body. Austin began exclusively buying t-shirts and button-ups a size too small, getting them tailored so that only barely fit over his bulging muscles. Whenever the boy's massive flexing bicep or enormous expanding back burst through a shirt - a weekly occurrence at the rate he was growing - his squad would take him shopping for a new set of custom-fit tops. Austin's bottoms consisted of a variety of jeans, chinos, and sweatpants that hugged his breathtakingly perfect ass. Squats were Austin's favorite workout, and it showed. No matter what he wore, the boy's muscular bubble butt made his fans scream and giggle. In the privacy of his bedroom, he could barely believe how beautiful his own ass was, or how its delicious rock-hard mass filled up every pair of briefs he owned. By the end of the school year, nearly 7 months later, Austin had doubled his weight. Standing at 6'4 and 280lbs with scarcely a pound of flab on his body, the boy was big enough to compete with the greatest bodybuilders and toughest powerlifters. Yet he was perfectly proportional, perfectly aesthetic, with a body that could grace any fitness magazine and a face like a Hollywood heartthrob. Of course, with his new body Austin was getting even more attention! The girls who only casually flirted with him before had transformed into desperate stalkers, creeping on his social media and following his every post. The female and gay professors who had previously lectured him for skipping class now begged him to come to their office hours for some private tutoring. Even straight men found it hard to resist Austin's sexual energy - just staring at his cute smile or enormous biceps could make a lifelong hetero pop a woodie. Austin started getting intimate with girls, and quickly realized he was a great kisser. He could give a woman a genuine orgasm with just his tongue and his lips. Of course, he was gifted in other ways as well. He had mind-boggling stamina, fucking for hours and hours with such skill and power that each and every thrust brought forth a new orgasm from his partner. He was incredibly versatile, rough or gentle, fast or slow, and no matter who he had sex with, Austin's every touch gave his partner more sexual pleasure than she had ever experienced before. Before long, Austin was bringing home a new harem every night. They fucked like a wild one-man orgy till the sun cracked over the horizon, Austin's incredible staying power keeping him erect the whole time. A night with Austin would ruin a girl for life - there wasn't a man alive who could satisfy a woman half as well as Austin did on a daily basis. One day, one of Austin's regular fucks invited him to a club downtown. He quickly became a local celebrity. Club owners didn't care that he was underage - with a body like that, it didn't matter. Wherever Austin went, so did the crowd - the boy's fans crowded the streets wherever he went, dying to catch a glimpse of his beautiful smile or cop a feel of his rock-hard muscles. Austin made jaws drop with the way his body moved - he was a naturally gifted dancer, with irresistible steps that drove the crowd crazy. His fans screamed at the way he seductively gyrated his ass, his biceps jumping in tune, his pecs dancing to the beat. Most nights ended with a massive orgy, women and men alike unable to control themselves in the presence of his overwhelming sexual energy. For Spring Break, he went back home and happened upon the old high school football team and their cheerleader girlfriends at a club downtown. They didn't believe him when he told them he was the same loser they bullied only a year ago, the nerdy dweeb too weak to lift a dumbbell or run around a track. The old head cheerleader started making out with him, right there in the middle of the club, and before he knew what was happening he was fucking her in front of everybody, her teammates cheering her on and their jock boyfriends powerless to stop him. Then he fucked each of the other girls, making them come over and over and over until they begged him to stop. And when he finished with them, he did their boyfriends, fucking them so hard and so deep that they never had a single straight thought for the rest of their lives. The entire group broke up after that - the cheerleaders knew they would never experience true joy ever again, not after the ecstasy of that night with Austin, and the footballers knew that the knowledge of their inferiority and submission would haunt them for as long as they lived. Nobody ever saw them after that. After getting back from break, Austin began taking Instagram more seriously. With the help of his friends, he quickly became a social media sensation. He loved posing in nothing but his briefs, showing off the way his jawdropping junk and mouthwatering bubble butt filled up his tight underwear. The comparison between his wasplike 30-inch waist and sleeve-bursting 26-inch biceps drove haters to claim "photoshop!", but a record-breaking livestream quickly shut them into shame and silence. The unprecedented viewership of Austin's first livestream caused the video to cut off unexpectedly, prompting fan outrage that forced Youtube and Facebook to expand their network capacity. Austin's massive, heavy pectorals and flawless 8-pack abdomen made the college boy's torso a popular object of worship. A particularly wealthy fan offered him a million dollars to eat a full meal off his belly - and Austin accepted! The next day, he uploaded a photo of a half-dozen supermodels seductively licking a mess of ice cream, chocolate, and honey from his pillow-sized pecs and delicious abs. It took less than an hour to become the most-liked image on Instagram and Twitter, a flood of activity that took down half the world's Internet infrastructure. Good memories. Back to the present. Austin smiled at himself. That same smile that made women pass out in ecstasy, that same smile that forced orgasms from confident straight men. Freshman year ended yesterday. Here he was, 19 years old, the sexiest man on Earth. What would he do next?
    11 points
  2. Part 3 As the party winds down and more guests filter out, Seth finds Trevor again. “Hey, I hear Brooke is going to be back in town in a couple of days. Would you and her like to go on a double date with me?” "A double date? Hey man, good for you! So, you finally snagged yourself a girl! Good for you!" Trevor teases, "Did you find her at Walmart of something, HAHA!" Seth grins smugly at Trevor and replies, "Nah bro. I think you might know her. Real sweet girl. Scorchingly hot too. Fine and fit as hell.” Seth bounces his exposed pecs and adds, “She loves big men. Says I fit the bill perfectly." Trevor is still having trouble processing the new change in attitude for Seth. He's acting like a cocky jocked-up fratboy...he then realizes that Seth is acting just like he used to... “Ok, well sure thing Seth. Let's set something up and have great night with our ladies. Proud of you bro!” Trevor's girlfriend Brooke has also been away that summer at a fashion internship in NYC. She loved it out there. Trevor could still remember her raving about it. "The shopping, Trev! It was AH-MAZING!" She would say over and over when they would text and FaceTime. Every time Trevor saw her on his phone screen he was amazed at how good she was looking. Trevor had beat off several times throughout the summer when Brooke would send him some pics in her swimsuit. Working at a fashion organization, she had even had some modeling test shots taken. It made him proud that this stunningly beautiful woman was his. While the couple texted and FaceTime-ed while apart, neither of them ever discussed their growth at all. Whether it was still occurring for either party. Trevor had put it out of his mind until she arrived at her apartment two day later. On his way there he contemplates her progress. At first, the thought of tall, hot vixen girlfriend excites him, but then he goes cold. "What if... what if she kept growing too?” He shakes his head, “She may have kept growing, but she would've had to grow a lot, even more than Seth to catch me.” Relaxed and excited, he finds his way to her apartment and knocks on the door, which swings open. She left the door cracked so he could enter. A loud 'whirrrrr' of a hairdryer emanates from the down the hall. Trevor chuckles, like a typical woman, she's still getting ready. “Hey babe, I'm here!” Trevor announces. “Ok, Trevor, just a few more minutes.” Trevor laughs again, knowing it will likely be another 20. The couple shout a conversation as she primps and preens, catching up. She's excited that they will be all going to the new restaurant, 'Harvest', in town. "Farm-to-table is SO in right now. So many places in the City are doing it!" Trevor shakes his head, laughing internally at how ten weeks in a big city has totally changed her perspective on things. Predictably, fifteen minutes later he calls out to her. "Come on, Brooke, let's head out. We are going to be late!" “Okay okay! Just finishing up...now. Coming!” Trevor stands and gives himself a once over. He has opted for a trendy long-sleeve black button down. Even though it was summer, he opted to cover himself up more than he usually would, still slightly embarrassed that he wasn't at the top of his physique game. He couldn't deny though, even with the dip in his physical progress, he still looked very good. Far better than most guys. He hears the “click-clop” of high heels coming down the hall and watches Brooke strolls into the living room. His heart flutters. She's GORGEOUS. Her slim black dress accentuates all of her curves perfectly. She looks like she's lost some weight, not that she needed to, meaning she was even more toned than he remembered. And on top of that she's wearing heels that show off her long, LONG legs. "Wait" -- alarm bells go off in his head -- "long legs?" Trevor feels that time slows as she approaches. Getting closer and closer... and taller and taller... until she's right in front of him. Staring DOWN at him! "Hey honey, up here!" Brooke giggles, looking down at him by an inch or so. Trevor's eyes go wide, and inside he is horrified. "Brooke... you... um-" he stammers a bit before she finishes for him. "-Look so tall?" She beams, "Well, the three inch certainly heels help!" She shows them off. "Don't worry, honey, you are still taller than me with them off..." Trevor sighs in relief. "Probably, anyway... don't you like them? I got them this summer at Jimmy Choos... they are PERFECT!" Trevor controls his inner struggle and smiles. And who could blame him. His girlfriend was like a Victoria's Secret model. She was so hot and energetic and perfect. At that moment, maybe for the first time ever, he felt out of her league! However, even with her new height unsettling him, her hot looks and body were certainly revving his engine. "They sure are, babe. Let's head out. You are going to turn some heads tonight. Hell, Seth is going bug out seeing you in these!" The pair embrace and engage in a deep sensuous kiss. Trevor's hands run up and down her perfect, long figure, causing his groin to stir. Although having to bend his neck UP to reach her luscious lips is a new sensation for him...and one he doesn't particularly like. He comforts himself by reminding himself that she is wearing three inch heels, giving her an artificial advantage. They release the kiss and Brooke heads quickly back to her room. “Just let me grab my pocketbook and we can go meet Seth and his new girlfriend. Ooooo! So exciting. I can't believe our Seth has a girlfriend! I wonder if she's cute.” “She'll have nothing on you, babe!” Trevor watches her long form walk back down the hall. He laughs and think to himself "Well, if I can't be taller than Seth, at least my girlfriend will be close!" He suddenly winces at realizing how insane that sounds. He should be the tall one, not Seth. He feels bad but the envy seeps in as he starts to feel short again. The power couple head to the restaurant. Trevor starts feeling better loving the attention he and his woman are getting. Even though Brooke is taller than him in heels he is still couple of inches taller than her, so it's completely acceptable...at least that's what he tells himself. Plus, he realizes all the guys have to be crazy jealous of him as they make their way around the shopping area, Trevor with his arms around what looks to be a brunette supermodel. As they near the restaurant Trevor spots Seth above the crowd. Wait a minute. "Above the crowd??" he thinks to himself. Once again his heart beats faster as he realizes how tall Seth now is. Still not crazy tall, but well above average. Seth spots Trevor and waves them over. As they approach, Trevor notes how Seth is filling out his button down to the max. Unlike himself, Seth has opted for short sleeves. The effect is that his pumped shoulders and bulging arms are filling the sleeves. Seth has left the top button open because his neck and chest are too big to close it. Brooke squeals as she sees him. "OMIGOD SETH! LOOK AT YOU! SO BIG AND HANDSOME! YOU LOOK SO HOT!" She hugs him and kisses him heavily on the cheek. Seth returns the embrace in his big arms. "Well hey there little lady!" As the two hug, Trevor notes his reference to her because even in her heels Seth is taller than she is, unlike him. Just after, another stunning woman, curvy, yet fit and blonde, walks up and places her feminine hand on Seth's large arm. She looks familiar to Trevor, though he can't place her...and then it hits him. She's the hot girl from the gym. “Trevor, Brooke, this is my girlfriend, Stacy!” As the two girls hug Seth looks Trevor in the eyes and you winks back at him. He has landed one of the most sought after chicks on campus. Stacy is in high heels too, thus she is also and inch or so taller than Seth right now. As the four all make acquaintances Seth chuckles and makes light of this fact, much to Trevor's chagrin. “You girls are going to have to take off your shoes for poor Trev, here!" The girls giggle with delight. Stacy adds, "It's ok Trevor, you're still cute!" Trevor knows it's meant as a compliment, but he'd always felt that being called 'cute' was something meant for...well...small guys. Seth jumps in. “Trevor and I used to be roommates, we also lifted together.” “Oh ok, Seth. Oh that's cool. So, Trevor, did you pick up any bodybuilding tips from this handsome big ox here?” Stacy says as she squeezes Seth's biceps. Seth busts out laughing, “Not quite, babe. Actually Trevor here was the one who got me into lifting.” Stacy embarrassed, tries to deflect. “Oh. I see. I..I can uh, see that you are quite fit too, Trevor,” she says unconvincingly. Brooke jumps in to save face. With a bright smile she compliments her man. “Trevor is in great shape. He just opted for the looser look tonight, so it's harder to tell.” Thankfully Trevor's embarrassment is cut short as the hostess arrives to seat them. Trevor frowns as he sees Seth continuing to chuckle to himself. The foursome sit down for a nice meal at a fancy Italian restaurant. Brooke continues to compliment Seth on how good he's looking, even copping a feel of his big arm at one point, causing Seth to laugh and ratcheting up Trevor's jealousy. She hadn't grabbed his arms like that at all tonight. She used to all the time back in the Spring. Seth in turn thanks Trevor for all his help and advice on his “journey to getting big” as he puts it. Thankfully for Trevor, the rest of the meal focuses on typical college-aged conversation and less on their physical attributes and he is able to relax. That is, until after their meals when they are enjoying a slow evening walk back through the upscale shopping district. At one point the couples split up to use the restroom before they depart for their cars. In the bathroom, Seth brings up the Elongro. “Hey Trevor, I was talking with Stacy. Have you sold anymore of your Elongro shots?” “No.” “So you still have two or three doses let then. I know Stacy would like to have a shot, she's been very impressed by how much muscle and size I've put on over the summer. I told her she could have a dose. She'd pay of course.” Trevor stares straight forward as he washes his hands, letting Seth's words sink in. This feeling of being "little" has been nagging him all night. The idea of Stacy, an already tall, fit girl, growing even more makes his stomach turn slightly. “Um...I'll think about it.” Seth can sense that Trevor has reservations. “Ok. Yeah man, let me know. It'd be an nice easy $200. Could buy a few months worth of supps!” After dinner the four head to Seth's for a night cap. His roommates have decided to party elsewhere for the night and the place is quiet. Back at Seth's house, he has opened another three buttons of his tight shirt. The deep, tan, pectoral valley displays itself to the group, which Stacy can't keep her eyes off of, even though her own impressive cleavage is showing and Seth's eyes return the favor. “This is one of the reasons I had to get to know Seth! I mean, just look at this chest!” Stacy smiles brightly, reaches her hand inside Seth's shirt to rub his pecs. Brook and Seth join in laughter although Trevor just watches, silent. “So is that how you two met, at the gym?” Brooke asks. “Yes, I work at the rec center. Seth comes in every day to workout. At first I didn't even really notice him. I must've been blind, haha! But soon I was wondering who that buff hunk was that came in to lift every night at 6:30pm. After that he was hard to miss. He's one of the strongest guys that come in. Since it's summer there's not a lot of lifters, and one night Seth was benching and I was the only worker in the weight room at that time. He came over to ask me to spot him. I about died when he came over!” Seth chuckles and adds, “You about died? I was so nervous to go ask YOU to spot me, the hottest girl I'd ever seen.” The sexy college pair smiled at each other and gave each other a quick peck on the lips. “Seth was benching so much weight I wasn't sure I would be able to spot him! But I just couldn't say no to these big arms!” Stacy grabs Seth's arm in both of her hands and tries to encircle it. She doesn't even come close. Seth merely rolls his eyes, “She is always groping me.” The girls giggle and Stacy retorts. “It's so hard not too! Look at his muscles! I joke that he almost has bigger tits than I do! Plus, he gets to return the favor in private!” More giggling. Trevor watches on, in shock as what may be the hottest girl on campus, save for maybe Brooke, seems to be completely smitten for Seth. Stacy constantly caresses his big arms, exposed pecs, delts...everything. At one point he swears he sees Stacy try to sneakily reach down under the table. All the while Seth sits there, proud as a peacock, a total stud, grinning stupidly. “Aww, that is so sweet,” Brooke coos as she too grabs Trevor's arm lovingly...finally, perhaps remembering what it was like when she and Trevor were first dating. “You two are adorable.” After their fancy night out, the realities of being poor college kids sets back in. After some drinks and a couple of rounds of card games, the girls break for the ladies room. The two girls have really hit it off which pleases both guys. While the ladies are in the bathroom, Seth presses Trevor on Elongro. "Dude, what's the concern? Remember how badly you wanted to recoup your investment. That's $200. Hell I'll pay it right now if you want," Seth says grabbing his wallet. Trevor waves him off. "It's not that... it's just..." he sighs. "Ok man, I think I know what's up. Are you worried that Stacy would get taller than you? Trev, I've got news for you... She nearly is already WITHOUT the injection. PLUS, girls end puberty WAY before guys...." and in a response Trevor has heard before, "...and it probably won't have any effect on her anyway, so really there's nothing to worry about!" Seth grins. "What's the harm, li... Trev?" Trevor knows that Seth was about to call him "little guy" again but caught himself. He sighs, exasperated. "Ok, ok, fine." "Awesome, dude! You're the best." Seth pulls the cash out of his wallet and hands it to Trevor. Trevor promises to deliver the injection to Stacy when he sees her at the gym tomorrow. Seth gets up and hugs his friend, surprising Trevor. Once again, Trevor feels his feel leave the ground. "I can't thank you enough, Trev. This shot has changed so much for me. And all for the better. I'm so glad that you have always looked out for me. It's all thanks to you! You are my best buddy. You'll always be! No matter how big you and I get!" Trevor instantly feels guilty at his attitude. All night long he been internally raging with jealousy. He knew he should be more happy for his buddy. Plus, it was still likely that he himself would grow some more. He just had to be patient. The ladies come out from the bathroom. Mercifully, in bare feet, and now both are now shorter than Trevor. Although, they are close enough to his height to make him uncomfortable. Both of the girls looks so tall... and then there's Seth, looming HUGE in the room. Trevor can't believe how much has changed in such a short period of time. Seth clearly loves the attention, especially the attention he's getting from Stacy. At one point he gets up to grab a beer and Trevor notes the fullness of his bulge. “Geez, I hope he's fluffed up from Stacy's groping,” he thinks to himself. The four talk late into the night before calling it. Trevor mentions to Seth how he wants to get back in the gym. Having lightened up, just slightly, he jokes. "Maybe you can start training me, Seth!" Seth smirks, enjoying the role reversal. "Any time brother... but I still have lots to learn!! We can teach each other... just like old times. The pair make plans to hit the gym more regularly. The couple make their goodbyes and Seth and Brooke head to the door, escorted by Seth. “You and Brooke have a great night.” Seth clasps hands with Trevor and leans in close for a bro hug and whispers, “You better believe Stacy and I will be. She can't get enough!” Seth and Trevor break the hug and Trevor gives him knuckles. On their way out, Seth reaches down and grabs Trevor's shoes for him. "Man, haven't seen this size in a while..." Trevor looks at Seth, puzzled. "Oh, I'm in 14s now. Guess my feet are growing faster than the rest of me!" he laughs. Trevor grabs his size 11s and slips them on. He hears that proud laughter ringing in your head the entire way home. * As planned the night before, the next day the two meet in the gym. Seth comes out of the locker room in a sleeveless shirt and greets his training partner. Trevor can't believe how huge and ripped his fully exposed arms and delts look. Like last night, Trevor is wearing a more conservative t-shirt compared to Seth, a little bit embarrassed at the small amount of fluff he has put on. Trevor is still in better shape than most of the gym goers, but Seth is now in another league which gives Trevor and unfair comparison. The lifting buddies start with bench press. Since Trevor is bit out of sorts with his lifting he can only manage 225 lbs x 6 times. He sits up after grunting out a tough set, looking disappointed. "Trev, you'll get it back, bro. Just keep lifting hard. Hop up, my turn!" Without changing the weight, Seth lays down on the bench and reps it out easily ten perfect times. He proudly stands back up, swinging his arms to loosen his joints. "Good warmup. Your turn again!" With Seth spotting, Trevor ekes out another 6 reps, but clearly he can't do any more, having exhausted his unconditioned muscles. Seth then starts to grab some of the smaller plates. "Throw on a ten and five on each side,” he demands. They load up the bar, Trevor is surprised at the weight. He watches as Seth then lays down again and with light effort, benches 255 lbs 10 more times! He quickly stands up and cockily proclaims. “Damn bro! I'm really feeling in my pecs today" Soon after they move on to biceps dumbbell curls. Trevor grabs the 25s and does a set of 10 for each arm. When he finishes Seth is happy to throw his buddy a some encouragement. "Nice job dude, looking big!" Seth winks, Trevor can't tell he is being sarcastic or sympathetic. Seth then grabs the 35s and easily completes a set for 12 reps. Trevor gazes as Seth's big arms pump thicker and tighter, bloating with nutrient rich blood. The workout continues with like this. With Seth consistently doing 10-20 more lbs and an extra 2-5 reps. By the end of the workout Seth is looking massively pumped. As the two head into the locker room they run into Stacy at the towel desk. “Hey boys! My you are looking BIG today, Seth,” she coos. Trevor notes she doesn't say anything about him. Seth grins as she feels up his arms and they quickly kiss. He then looks at Trevor, smiling brightly. “Trev, my man, would you mind getting that injection for Stacy?” Trevor runs and gets the pre-loaded syringe of Elongro from his bag. The trio enter a private office and Seth gives her the injection in her tight booty. Stacy, excited at what she hopes lies ahead, groans as the needle plunges in. "Oo! That stings a little. Awesome. Thank you so much for giving the dose, Travis!" Seth is holding in laughter as Trevor corrects her. "Um...actually it's Trevor." Stacy's eyes widen as she realizes her mistake. "Oh I'm so sorry, yes Trevor. That's what I meant." Trevor knew that wasn't true. He realized he just wasn't man enough to make an impression on the hottest girl on campus who likes 'big guys'. Guys like Seth. Before the two men split away, Stacy walks over and again squeezes Seth's arms. She really can't keep her hands off him. "Baby, you are looking so buff!" she says as she gropes him. At her touching, Trevor then notices Seth's already full bulge growing even more pronounced. Her fondling is getting him excited. Trevor could see that it looked like Seth was packing some major heat. He didn't remember a bulge like that when they were dorm-mates. “It has to be the lighting,” he tells himself. With one last kiss the couple split up and the two lifters head to the locker room to change. Seth strips off his shirt. “Fuck,” Trevor thinks. He's seen glimpses of Seth's physique but not yet fully exposed. Not since last May anyway. Seth looks fucking PUMPED! "DAMN SETH. You look like an amateur bodybuilder!" Seth lights up at the compliment, "HAHA Thanks bud! Ya know, I've been getting that A LOT lately. I think I like being huge. They say it's harder for tall guys to put on muscle, doesn't seem to be the case with me! BOOM!" Seth punctuates his last statement with a most muscular pose, bring his arms down and flexing his frontal muscles. All his muscles tighten and bulge outward except for this deep cut abs. Trevor is taken aback as the display of young male masculinity right in front of him. He can't help but admit to himself that Seth is damn impressive. "Shit, Seth. How much did you say you weigh nowadays, 210?" Seth grin, "Yeah, the last reading was 210, that was last week though. I feel so pumped though, maybe more now! Wanna see?" Trevor nods his head, so they head toward the end of the locker room where the scales and stadiometers are. A few guys changing stop what they are doing to watch. Some of them know Seth in passing from the weight room - some try to pretend like they don't care, others fully watch. All are impressed by Seth's physique. He may have had one of the most all-around complete physiques on campus by now. There may be others on campus that were bigger, others that were stronger, more ripped, better looking and taller. But he may have had the best combination of all those attributes in one body. Seth steps on to the scale. The dial spins up and up before stopping at... … 217 lbs. Trevor's eyes bulge out of his head. "Dude... you've put on... over 40 pounds in like 10 weeks!! And seven in just the last week!" Seth and Trevor hear a few claps in the background from the guys watching. Seth knows a couple of them as they also lift regularly. They are all thoroughly impressed! Trevor asks a guy if the scale is calibrated correctly. He nods in confirmation. "Damn....." Trevor continues, saying slowly, completely impressed and stunned at the same time. "I can't believe you have that much mass and definition at that size, Seth..." he says, totally in awe of his former roommate's growing body. Seth turns to look at the small crowd of dudes and hits a most muscular pose, sending the fellas clapping and whooping again. “You are jacked as hell, brah!” One of the more ripped guys calls out, causing Seth to smile at this fellow impressive specimen. “How tall are you? Like 6'0?” “Something like that,” Seth replies with a shrug. "Measure his height!" another guy shouts. "Yeah, I want to know how tall he is!!" Seth stands with his powerful hands on his hips, the superman of the locker room. He chuckles, "Well, Trevor, dude, the crowd has spoken!!" Seth steps over to and onto the stadiometer. Trevor begins to extend it upwards, standing on his toes as he does. Seth stifles a laugh as Trevor brings down the level to the top of his head. Trevor's eyes go wide. "Holy fuck, Seth...." he says slowly, "Fuck, you are SIX FOOT TWO!!" Seth steps forward and throws back his head in laughter. He reaches his long arms into high as if stretching for more height. He emphatically boasts to the men in the room, noting proudly to himself how he is bigger...taller and bigger than ALL of them. Sure, it's a very small sample size, but this is the first time in his life that he has experienced being the biggest and tallest man in the room. "Damn! Well Trevor, I HAVE been feeling TALL lately... I guess I know why...BECAUSE I AM! I mean, six foot two? That's definitely in the 'tall' category, dontcha think?" Trevor nods to his larger friend. “Plus, I'm not only tall, I've got all this muscle. Look at these pythons! They might be closing in on 20 inches! Haha, all you boys better start lifting harder or I'm going to leave you all in the dust!” Seth is smiling from ear to ear while guys all around the locker room compliment and congratulate him. Trevor stands back and also notices that the small group of lifters are all smaller than Seth, both in muscle mass and height. Seth certainly has them beat in looks too. Seth has firmly established himself as one of the tall guys at the gym when a few months ago, he was one of the shorter ones! After the moment dies down a bit and the other guys head back to normal routines, Seth looks over at his nervous friend. "Well we took my stats. You want to measure too, bro? Since we are here. Like you said, it's good to keep track. Now that you are back in town and back on the lifting train you want to follow your growth, right?" Trevor thinks on it a moment, trying desperately to think of a way out. However, he knows Seth is right, especially since Seth used his own words as the argument. Trevor decides to go ahead with it. At this point, he acquiesces to himself that Seth taller. "So what?" he thinks, especially since he believes – nay, hopes - that he's been growing too. He just has to be. They take his weight first. "Trev, looks like your 205. Not bad. Well you caught up a little bit to me, dude...sorta!" Seth chuckles and says, slapping Trevor's belly which jiggles just slightly. He sees Trevor redden a bit and further comments, "Don't worry, you'll get that body fat back down in no time working out with me!" In the back of his mind though, Trevor knows he could realistically lose the flab and gain back the muscle. What really worries him right now is...the height. They both know that height is one of the prime measurements that matter. Seth looks down at Trevor, he can see his apparent apprehension. In that moment Seth honestly does feel bad for Seth. Right at the moment he realizes that Trevor must feel like Seth won the lottery while he missed out. "Ready?" Seth asks as Trevor steps forward on the stadiometer. Trevor stands as tall as he can. Seth reviews the measurement twice to be sure. "Well, Trev, good news! You got a bit taller!" He sees Trevor light up. "Really? Am I over 6ft?? By how much?!?" Trevor asks eagerly, but Seth's smile fades a bit. "Erm... well.. you aren't quite there yet, dude. I'm seeing a quarter inch under 6ft. So real close! That's like another quarter of an inch since we measured last. So you are still growing! That means a big growth spurt like I had may be right around the corner, bro." Seth reaches out to give his friend a high five, but Trevor walks away, dejected and pouting. He mutters a few things before he changes and throws his stuff in a bag and heads for the door. Seth throws on a shirt and goes to catch him before he exits the rec center. "Dude....are you-" But Trevor brushes him off. Seth understands how he feels and knows best to leave it alone. As Trevor walks out of the gym, Stacy heads in Seth's direction, having heard all about the measurements from one of Seth's casual lifting buds that was a mutual friend of hers. She grins excitedly, reaches up and wraps her arms around Seth's neck. "Looks like my evening plans were canceled, Trevor. I want to have some fun with this TALL six foot two muscle hunk I heard about." Seth grins as he grabs her around the waist. With just one arms he lifts her up for a quick kiss and she emanates a girly squeal at his strength and size. “That's sounds great, Babe. Let's head home for a long, FUN night ahead! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Jump to Part 4: https://muscle-growth.org/topic/16655-elongro-added-part-3-on-1819/?do=findComment&comment=208537
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  3. Thanks for the comments - part 3 coming soon!
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  4. Ich LIEBE diese Story. Ich kann kaum auf den nächsten Teil warten
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  5. Part XIV “So, are we going to do this thing or not?” I ask bluntly. “Yeah. Let’s get down to it.” Blake removes the tank he was wearing so we’re both naked now. Me with my gymnasts body and hardon. Blake with his bodybuilder physique and slumbering giant. “Ok, we’ll start off the easy way.” Blake says as he shoves me hard and I crumple to the floor. “Get up small fry!” He booms. I stand up, confused but more angry. “What the fuck was that‽ “ “I’m putting you down where you belong. At my feet.” Blake smirks, towering over me. He brings his huge arm up and flexes his bicep. “You see this, this is real man muscle. Look at that twig you call a bicep. Pathetic.” “I. Am. Not. Pathetic.” I growl. “The fuck You aren’t. Look at me. All this fucking muscle.” Bland breaks his flex and places his extended palm on his chest. His huge hand looks small when he places it on his pec. That meaty mound of muscle spreads from his delts to the center of his chest where it meets its twin and form a deep groove. His hand slips down to meet his firm 8-pack. It traces the cracks that each taut muscle makes until his hand is down to his navel. It then slides over to where his Adonis belt bulges away from his hip. He grabs the meaty muscle tightly in his hand and squeezes, massaging the muscle. “Come on little guy. You know you want to touch it.” He gestures down to his sleeping monster, hand on his hip. “No one can resist touching it. Especially when they’re used to handling their own pathetic worm like yourself. The flash of heat floods my face but the pull to his cock is so much stronger. I focus myself and don’t move. “You mean people line up for that weak, soft cock?” I reply cockily to Blake. “You can’t even get it up.” Silently Blake closes his eyes and grits his teeth. I see the head on his cock begin thickening and expanding. In seconds it’s reached its full size from earlier. It looks insanely huge on his soft shaft. All flared and red. But it doesn’t look out of place for long. His shaft balloons larger in long pulses as it also begins to straighten out, rising from its resting place on his balls. Once the show is over and his cock reaches its monolithic size he grabs my wrist. I lock eyes with him and become startled. His normal soft, brown eyes aren’t looking at me, but cold, black eyes stare me down. “Careful brother, I am slow to anger but once provoked I have difficulty controlling my rage. You must feel it too. The jealousy of being smaller. Don’t you crave the size? Don’t you thirst for it?” I gulp loudly. The fear in my body making me nauseas. Blake moves my hand to his cock and places it on his angry head. “Now, how does a real mans cock feel?” “It feels...” I trail off as I feel my arm grow tight. I look down and see my forearm striated with unfamiliar muscle and fueled strength. I smirk and squeeze Blake’s cock head tightly. He winces in a bit of pain but he’s so hard not much damage is done. “I feel strong.” I release Blake’s cock and immediately place my hand on my bicep. I can feel it swelling with new mass, growing firmer under my hand and spreading it apart. My eye travels up my arm and I watch my shoulder stretch outward, nicely capping off the enhancement to my bid and tris. My chest has too expanded morphing into squared off slabs of meat that touch in the center to form a deep groove. They now stand off from the rest of my body a solid inch. A field of dark, smooth hair now spreads from the groove outward giving my pecs an even more masculine look. The hair is more concentrated around my darkened nipples. My lats flare out from my body as I feel my back widen in strife with the other changes. I can feel my traps growing up my neck, thickening and strengthening. My stomach still maintains the six pack it has but the individual abs have grown wider and taller. They also have grown in thickness to push away from the rest of my core. My abs now look strong instead of just superficial. My Adonis belt has too thickened, adding pounds of muscle and extending off my hips like Blake. The hair from my chest doesn’t cover my stomach but a dense treasure trail forms below my navels and snakes down my thickly muscled groin to my pubes. Sadly I don’t see that my cock has grown and my nuts still resemble large eggs, hanging loose in their sack. But my gaze is drawn down to my quads. The striating muscle forms thick ropes down my legs. I feel their power building the size taking shape. It makes me feel weak in the knees but I know my muscle wouldn’t dare let me fall. Then I feel my ass twitch. I reach around and feel a large mound of tight, firm flesh covered in a light dusting of hair. I give it a squeeze and let out a soft moan. “Fuck yeah bro.” Blake Says, snapping me back to reality. I had almost forgotten he was in the room. I turn to face him and see that he looks a little shorter than I remember. But everything looks further away now. I must have grown taller too. And by the looks of it by almost two inches bringing me up to 6’4” of man meat. “Looking good bro.” Blake smiles. “And I think you got one last surprise in store this time around?” “What?” I reply. Blake motions at my crotch. “It’s usually the last to catch up.” He says as I see my nuts drop lower, my sack loosening. Then I can feel an increase of weight in them as my nuts visibly expand. I cup them softly in my hand as they spill over my grip. But my fascination with my nuts is cut short by the stirring in my cock. I feel a surge of blood rush to it and veins explode out of the shaft. I almost cum from the pressure but bite it back remembering Blake’s words. The pressure increases and I feel myself getting hard, lengthening. Which is odd since ive been rock hard for so long. But my cock swells larger, growing to reflect my change in body size. The head swells and turns a bright red. The ridge of my head flares out and swells thickly. The shaft thickens and grows longer, forcing my head further from the base. I desire to stroke its length but I don’t dare touch...yet. I swear it must have grown to at least a full foot long if not more. I can feel the slit of my cock growing larger, willing to accommodate more of my seed. My nuts begin to itch as they grow increasingly hairy, making them look like hyper masculine. I begin to smell an odor coming from my crotch. It’s musty and has tones of salt but it’s enveloping and strong. It smells like man. Not dirty or rank but comforting and sexual. And then I feel a click in my body. Like the tap feeding me was shut off. “How you fucking feel stud?” Blake says, his rod swinging in front of him. “It’s so heavy.”I say gesturing to my body. “We can take care of at least one heavy thing right now.” Blake says as he cups my balls in his hand. “Because I got a big load I need to dump and I want to see you take this puppy on a test drive.”
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  6. This is my first ever written story published here. I have actually written one story before, but it was lost when my old laptop gave up. I've been hesitant to put anything here as I don't want my story telling getting too judged, but, this is an idea which is so hot to me, I just had to share. I hope you all enjoy, and any feedback is much appreciated, or feel free to drop me a message. “So, anything else that needs discussing before the next news meeting?” My editor asks. “Umm, well, is there anything I can be focussing on?” My voice slightly cracks, I’ve only been at the BBC offices for a few weeks but I’m trying to make myself come off as keen, but not too keen that everyone around me hates me and thinks I’m going to gun for their job. The World Service has been through some really, really tough months, job cuts, redundancies, people moving abroad to other networks, the BBC was not the place everyone wanted to work anymore, and certainly a young 25 year old upstart like me joining the most respected name in news worldwide might rub some up the wrong way. My game plan was simple, move in the right direction but slowly, and never appear too fast or eager. I genuinely wasn’t there to steal anyone’s job, certainly not deliberately. “Actually, there’s something we want you to do, wait behind.” The room vacated, everyone doing awkward British nods and smiles at each other as they left to complete their tasks. “We’re impressed, you’re progressing well,” she says, “so we’ve got a small interview we’d like you to do, but it is an important one, and it’s a foreign assignment so it’s a good first job.” “Oh wow, okay,” I pause, “go on.” “Prince Abdul Al-Aziz Al-Hamza is shortly to take over the small island nation of Thazzan,” she starts. “Isn’t that the country which has insanely high oil revenues but doesn’t really look after its people?” “Oh yes,” she says, “we’d like you to go there and interview him. His father’s in his dying days and he’s willing to give one radio interview, specifically radio, we don’t know why, to discuss what’s next for his country.” This was a perfect scoop, I mean, it was going to be boring as hell, but good. By boring as hell, I mean there would be no chance for real questions. Interviews with dictators and their sons always followed the same format and went on the same lines, how thrilled the people are to have them and how many changes they have planned for the country. No-one actually ever takes these kinds of things seriously. “I’m a bit concerned about LGBT rights,” I say, after a few moments of pondering. “They’re inviting you, it’s not going to be a problem, in fact I’ve already checked that,” she replies. “Wait you what?” I ask, rather startled. “You’re our only free reporter, so I was upfront about it,” she replies, calmly, I forget my editor has been doing this for years, “we used to check this kind of thing with reporters in other slightly homophobic countries nearby, it’s standard practice.” “How is that, remotely standard practice?” I ask, blood pressure raised. “Because then there’s a record that we checked that it was fine for you to go as a gay man, actually it protects you from being arrested for debauchery if they were to find out you were while you’re there.” “The last thing I’m going to do is hook up with some guy from a country where it’s so repressed and I can get thrown in jail for it,” I say, almost losing my temper, but, then remembering this is the person in charge of assignments, “but thank you for your concern,” I add, through slightly gritted teeth. “Can you leave this evening? It’s either this evening or an early morning flight I’m afraid. You can leave the office now. We’ve planned around 4 days for you there, there’s a visit to some oil refineries, some oil treatment works, some oil fields, and then the final day is the interview itself,” she says, “did you know the country’s economy is almost entirely dependent on oil?” She asks, with a wry smile. “I could have guessed.” I say. ******************************************** 24 hours later and I wake up my first day in Thazzan. The air conditioning perfect, the hotel nice, the BBC could never afford a really, really nice hotel, especially for an inexperienced reporter like me, but it was comfortable. Certainly more comfortable than most hotels around the M25, although that’s not saying much. My first visit to an oil field was boring, as I guessed all the visits would be. I ended up having a chat with the manager as we were wrapping up. Oil was booming, he was telling me, no he wasn’t concerned about the sudden drop in oil in the coming decades as the country was investing now, yes he was very confident in the new Prince. “He telephones in to our board meetings across the company,” he said, excitedly. “Oh so he is more hands on than most bosses?” I ask. “Oh, absolutely,” he says, “much better than in neighbouring countries. He always dials in and he’s very good at giving direction, after all, the country shares the oil wealth so we have to do it for the benefit of all.” He replies. It’s worth pointing out at this point that corruption indexes but Thazzan at one of the worst in the world for corruption, and the UN has repeatedly said that even though they have all this oil wealth, it is not trickling down to the people. Pleas have been made repeatedly to have the wealth shared more effectively, it’s all gone unheeded. I look up from his desk, sure enough, there was a smiling Prince Al-Hamza, probably embezzling huge amounts of this money for himself, not that the people would ever know. I hated myself for thinking this, in a country of such poor gay rights, but he was hot. The guy was hot. His Excellency, or whatever his formal title was, was hot. He had the kind of manicured facial hair and beautiful dark brown eyes that really turned me on to Arab men. Not one guy so far had really piqued my interest, but the Prince did. “Ah yes, it is his official portrait, we are all very pleased with him,” the manager grinned. I notice the date mark in the plaque next to his smiling image. “2008?” I ask. “Yes, why?” he asks. “That’s ten years ago.” “It is the most recent official portrait, he is twenty there, if something more recent comes, then we all have to change. We used to change them once every six months.” “Oh right, so does he look like that now? I mean, during your teleconferences?” “Oh no, you misunderstand, we never see him, he calls in on the phone.” This struck me as odd. I sat back in my chair and looked at the image of the attractive Prince in full Thazzan flowing white robes of national dress. It also made me wonder why the man had specifically asked for a radio interview with the World Service, any Prince on a good PR job would be after BBC World News on TV, not radio. TV had a better reach and could be used on YouTube, radio, not so much. “Have you ever seen him? Met him? He’s nice?” I ask, digging. “Nope, but he is a very kind man, he cares deeply about the people,” says the manager, “sometimes when oil revenues fall, he will call me personally and discuss.” “So he’s never visited your oil field?” “A Prince is far too busy for something like that, he has many diplomatic things to attend and people to look after, I would not expect him to come visit.” “But it’s your country’s main source of revenue?” I ask. “Of course!” He replies, he’s not going to comment further. I let his last two words hang in the air briefly, most interviewees will almost always talk more when you leave the room quiet, this man, not so. Perfectly trained in PR. The two officials standing near the exit to the office probably didn’t help either, while they were there ostensibly to help me around, they were almost certainly there to make sure all my visits were perfect. With that, I left the facility. ************************************** My final day had arrived, this afternoon I was told I had an hour with the Prince, to ask him what I wanted. He wouldn’t answer any question we hadn’t planned from the news team, but we could at least try. He would give highly scripted answers to complex questions and that would be done. I didn’t know why the BBC was going through with this total farce of an interview, but there we are. I was taken to the royal palace at 1pm. The huge, vast building opened up like an oasis in the desert as we drove nearer. An enormous monolith dedicated to housing the ruling family, it had hundreds of acres of perfectly manicured grounds and guards every few metres. I was shown into a big room, then another big room, and finally another big room. I was sat down at a table with a phone on it. “The Prince will talk shortly.” I was assured by a small man in perfectly fitted attire. I got ready to read through my notes for the upcoming questions, I got out my radio microphone, I worked out the best lines of attack. I thought I’d start out slow and ask about oil revenues, then start asking why the country was still not dealing with its poverty effectively. The phone rang. I looked around, but I was in this empty space alone. I gingerly picked up the receiver. “Hello?” I asked, my voice cracked slightly, I needed to drink more, the country was too hot. “Hello, I believe you have some questions for me,” came a slightly deep, immaculately accented English from the other end of the phone. My mouth went immediately dry. “Your Excellency! I didn’t realise we weren’t doing this in person?” “I am a very busy man. You must understand.” “I do, I do,” I say, biting my tongue, before realising I needed to state the obvious, “how am I supposed to do a radio interview over the phone?” “My people will record it,” he says, assuredly, here’s a man no-one has ever said no to. “I can’t do that,” I say, holding back a frog in my throat, “BBC guidelines, I have to record it myself.” “Why?” “You could tamper with the recording, it has happened.” A deep laugh came from the other end of the receiver. “Surely not?” he asks. “Yes.” I reply. “But you would know if it had been edited, you’ll have done the interview.” “Yes but that isn’t the point.” “Okay so what is your first question?” He asks, pointedly. “No, no, I’m really sorry, I have to insist, I have to interview you in person. There’s no point in me being sent all the way here in order to get audio from a telephone recording, I could do that in London.” “London is a beautiful city,” he said, randomly. “Yes,” I say, slightly caught off guard, “it is.” “I have many houses there, would you like to know how many?” “Yes, actually,” I say. “A few, Knightsbridge and Belgravia, all of my neighbouring royal families have houses in the same areas, you know, it’s a second home for us, so many of us in the Middle East are educated in London or around London, we like the UK.” Whilst this is interesting, I get what he’s trying to do. Distraction techniques don’t work with me. “I can’t do the interview like this. It has to be in person.” There’s a loud sigh let out on the other end. Then, some barking of Arabic at an assistant. “Wait,” he says. More Arabic is exchanged. A second voice enters his room and more Arabic is discussed. They have a slightly politer form of Arabic in Thazzan, clearly, more like Lebanese, softer, not the harsh guttural tones of Saudi Arabia. A new voice joins the line. “Hello, I am chief lawyer and legal officer here at the palace.” “Oh hello,” I say, just a trifle taken aback from this new development in proceedings. “It is highly against protocol to let people meet the Prince himself.” “I know, but it is also highly against protocol to even invite foreign journalists to talk to your officials, so this is a rather new day for you, isn’t it?” I say, smirking slightly at the way I am holding myself, surprising myself, really. A long sigh is let out. “We can let you see him,” he continues, “but you don’t have a camera, do you?” “Well I’ve got my phone.” “Surrender the phone, you need to hand us everything bar the microphone and any notes you may need.” “Okay.” “There’s also a contract you need to sign, what you in the west call a non-disclosure agreement, you do not discuss the Prince’s appearance with anyone, not even your colleagues or direct bosses.” “What?” “It is radio isn’t it?” “Yes.” “Then this is not a problem, the contract should be there now, it’s standard royal protocol to not discuss the Prince’s appearance.” “Why?” I struggled to hold back laughter, this was bizarre protocol. “I cannot comment, sign the form, you will see him.” “Thank you.” I say, to his rather curt previous remark. The perfectly dressed assistant who showed me to the table comes back in, this time a gold tray with a piece of paper is handed over, as well as a fountain pen. “Please sign,” he says, bowing. I read through it, it is literally nothing else other than that I must not discuss his appearance with anyone, no hidden clauses, nothing confusing, just that one stipulation. I shrug and sign, if this is going to give me the high quality audio interview we need, that’ll be it. “Please,” he gestures frantically, “leave this room, turn right, walk to the end of the corridor, it is the last door on the right.” I really didn’t need those instructions as a man had now come to stand next to me, and started walking very closely beside me. He was hot, too. I needed to focus. ******************************************************** The doors clicked open upon my approach, but no-one else was going into the room with me. They swung open and I walked in. The room was markedly cooler than the rest of the palace. To the left, at least twenty floor to ceiling windows looked over a perfectly manicured garden being tended to by a multitude of staff. I walked in, distracted by the windows and what they had to show. There didn’t appear to be anyone in the room, I meandered slowly towards the vast view of the courtyard, and the gardens beyond. “Hello?” I ask. My voice dying in the room as it bounced off the walls and marble floors. Nothing. “Hello?” I say, voice slightly raised. I hear footsteps and two men are now leaving the room behind me, the doors click shut. I frown. I hear heavy footsteps, ones more sounding like a rhino crossing the perfectly varnished, clean, white floor. I see a broad man approaching in a beautiful crisp, white national dress. I say broad, he’s across the room and I can see that he is built like a tank. He continues to walk heavily toward me, each step making a noticeable sound on the floor. This is a man who works out. I see it is the Prince, he has barely changed facially, but there are some noticeable changes. He extends an arm to shake my hand and smiles broadly, at which point I notice his neck is almost thicker than his head. Even under the free-flowing gowns of the Arabian Peninsula, it is obvious that this man works out, all the time. He places his large hand into mine and says the Arabic for welcome, I extend the same courtesy back. As he walks towards me, one leg is being placed purposefully in front of the other, clearly due to huge legs. The arms are stretching at his national dress, and it is by no means small. “It is nicer to see you in person,” he says, “my people were very talkative with your editor, I have heard much about you, you have been in the BBC long?” That perfectly accented English makes me weak at the knees, he has a perfectly manicured beard and immaculate teeth, the deep brown eyes make me melt and that thick neck makes me swoon, I wonder what he’s packing underneath the robes. “A couple of years,” I say, looking solidly at his neck. “You will see I am different to portraits, I am more of a man now,” he smiles. “I can see there have been some changes,” I reply. ***************************************** He turned his back to me, his huge, broad back stretching at the seams of the otherwise flowing robe. He walks off to a couple of extremely comfortable looking chairs at the other side of the room, still near the windows. I’m focusing on how heavy his footfall is with each step, his purposeful gait gives the air of someone who is used to dominating a room. He sits down, the chair creaks under his weight, I pretend not to notice. “I don’t have much time, I’m sure you’ll appreciate I am a busy man,” he says, straight away, rubbing his left hand with his right. “That’s fine, I want about half an hour with you, if that’s okay? Just to clear up all the questions the world media have.” “I completely understand, please, I will answer the best I can.” I look through my notes. “May we begin?” I ask. He nods and smiles. “Oil revenues are increasing, aren’t they, how do you use these to pay for the infrastructure of Thazzan?” “My kingdom is very fortunate to have been blessed with such resources to help us out. We have historically always struggled with our economy, imports and exports. It is just one huge export, but it helps out my country hugely, we are moving into the 21st century.” “Do you think the country could be doing any better?” I ask, trying to look at his arm slyly while he rubs his mouth with his right hand in thinking. “I think we have historically had problems with corruption, from previous administrations before my branch of the family came to power, we had big problems.” “What do you say to people who say that the country still has too many problems, too much poverty, for one which last year was estimated to make a few billion dollars a day in selling oil?” He shifts in his chair, it creaks again, he pushes his head back, his neck looks as though he just flexed it, is he trying to intimidate me? “Of course there will always be these problems, but in a Muslim society, we do the best we can to help those in need, I hope that these problems will continue to be eradicated, any poverty is too much poverty.” He shifts in his chair again, he looks uncomfortable. I think he doesn’t like asking questions from a media which actually searches. This is not the fawning state media he’ll be used to. “What are you doing to promote tourism? I understand you are bidding for worldwide sporting events?” He looks relieved at this question. “We are bidding for the World Cup, and for more sports to take place here, we need to boost our economy further with tourism and to show the correct Arab culture around the world, you know, Arabs are seen as so hospitable, yet everyone just associates us with terror attacks, it is awful.” The chair lets out a larger creak as he shifts again, he takes a deep breath. “In terms of your tourism economy, what -“ “Stop,” he interrupts. I momentarily pause, still looking at my notes, rather taken aback by his interjection. He reaches forward and rips the batteries out of my recorder, his huge arms at work under that national dress make me do a double take. “I am sorry, I am not feeling well, I had a brief illness last week, and I thought I would be okay, but I just need to get some water. This is off the record, illness is something my people would not associate with me.” I’m rather taken aback by the admission here, but pause. It’s highly unusual, but if he wasn’t feeling that well at the beginning of the interview then why did he proceed anyway? I ask him this. “I thought I’d be okay, but…” he lets out a long sigh, I notice the chair is creaking again, surely he can afford better chairs, “pass me some water.” He gestures at an ornate table, about five metres away, it has two huge pitchers of water on it and seven glasses. I walk over and pour some out. Hopefully we can bond over me helping him. I have my back turned to him and I hear another creak, he lets out a low groan. He isn’t going to be unwell is he? I can’t be accused of trying to poison him, can I? Is this a trap? I suddenly realise this man knows I’m gay in a highly homophobic country, is asking me to pour him water and hand him it, he could accuse me of all kinds of things, there are literally no staff in here. I don’t carry poison, but what can they accuse me of? I turn back around to face him, he’s sweating. “Are you okay? Should I get staff?” “No, honestly,” he lets out a huge burp, covering his mouth, swearing under his breath in Arabic, “I need some water.” He shifts back in his chair, then more upright, both times the chair makes the loudest squeaks and creaks yet. I rush back with two glasses of water. He has some beads of sweat forming on his forehead. This has to be real, he can’t be faking it at this point. He gulps down both glasses. His face is red, sweaty. “Can you stay longer? We may have to reschedule, I think,” he says. “Yes of course I can, what -“ I’m interrupted by the sound of ripping fabric. His eyes let out a look of panic, briefly, locking straight on to mine. I have no idea what to say, the pause hangs there immediately after the ripping. He continues to stare at me, rabbit in the headlights, as I notice the seams on his shoulders are giving way, the previous flowing robe now bursting at the seams. We both continue to stare at each other. In the corner of my eye I can see the seams getting wider on his shoulders. “Are you -“ I’m speechless beyond that, I don’t know what to say. I’m standing in front of him in the chair, staring. He continues to stare at me, almost completely vacantly at this point, but still panic-stricken. There’s no more words to be formed, I fantasise about this kind of thing all the time, every day, but is it actually happening? Had I finally gained the ability I had always wanted to have? This is the kind of thing I read about on muscle fantasy forums every night, night after night, after work, one handed typing, as I read hot stories of men growing. But this guy is doing it actually in front of me. This isn’t a wet dream. He lets out a deep breath and burps again, says something else under his breath in Arabic. I, automatically, in my British sentiment, excuse him. He thanks me under his breath. The pregnant pause continues, it’s unbearable, I want to watch him grow but I can’t believe it’s happening. There’s no batteries in my microphone, I can’t take notes. I just continue to look at his face. He continues to take in great gulps of air, a bead of sweat forming at the end of his nose and another trickling down the left side of his face. Finally, both stretches of fabric covering his shoulders give way and tear. At this point I sit down, my burgeoning erection had been going since I realised that this was happening, and that he wasn’t actually unwell. He smirks, gently. “You like this, don’t you?” He says, absent-mindedly rubbing his exposed left shoulder with his right hand. I can’t reply. I am staring. My boxers are wet. “Being trapped in such a small, island nation with only a few hundred thousand people and such bad gay rights, I was thrilled to find out a gay reporter was coming.” My mouth is dry. The chair creaks again, he didn’t shift in it this time. “Imagine how surprised I was to find that the security detail provided to you by my security services included that you were a member of the muscle growth forum?” Rumbled. I feel the colour drain from my face. I really want a glass of water now. “When we got into your account, had a look through, you’ve always dreamed of being the guy who encourages, stays the same while his partner gets bigger,” he continues. “I have to say, when I was handed the report by my special security services, and I came across that section in the online activity chapter, I knew I had found the man for me,” he groans under his breath and throws his head back, closing his eyes while something else rips elsewhere. My mouth is as dry as the desert outside. I struggle to prevent my hands shaking wildly. “I bet you want to know why poverty is so bad in my country, why healthcare is so bad,” he says, opening his eyes, staring at me again, those deep, beautiful eyes. I nod, mouth open, catching flies. “I have always wanted this,” he says, grunting a bit at the ‘this’, “ever since I was a child, I wanted to be bigger and better than everyone, I went to school at a private institution in England, I could never become the rugby player I wanted to be. “I have always felt like the only one in the world, who wanted this, like you do, but for me. But then I realised, I’m coming to power, let’s spend my family wealth on the one thing I want, I can be in charge of the government, let’s change government research and development from medical research to muscle.” The chair underneath him lets out two staccatos of creaking. He groans a bit. “My family makes billions per day, of course I use it for the people, and some offshore, but at least one billion of that goes into this.” He stands up, the robe falls to the floor, I involuntarily make a sound like the slut for muscle I’ve always known I have been. “You are literally looking at the only guy in the world who can grow, and grow on command. I have pills, I popped some before you came in, I take them when I want, they’re not perfect, I rarely go out in public, sometimes the growth takes over, so I rule from my palaces.” I look at the striations of muscle across his body, the tensing and flexing, the beads of sweat dripping down his hairy chest and arms, the only clothing he still has on are his undergarments, sandals and his headwear. He reaches out a hand to me, and pulls me out of the chair, I’m weak at the knees. His hands lead me to put my left hand on his chest, my right on his left arm, he tenses both areas. I feel a wet patch forming. “No-one is allowed to touch me except family, that’s a sackable offence in royal palaces,” he continues, “but you, you have always wanted this, you don’t want to admit it but a multi-billionaire prince who can also grow must also be something you want.” He flexes his left arm, I realise my voice box is involuntarily engaged as I let out a huge, sudden breath, I feel my body tense all over. I came. He looks at my now sticky trousers. “Well, well, well, your profile was not fake.” “I’m so sorry,” I say, shakily, sweating, barely able to get a word out, voice cracking. “Why are you apologising?” I stare, dumbly, I can’t take the situation in. “When you came in I was around 270lbs, I’m around 6’3, at this point I’m usually 100lbs more than that, there’s more to go, yet.” This makes me acknowledge the current situation and regain some ground. “How big do you,” I say, I pause to run my tongue round my mouth, “how big do you go?” “Well I only took a couple, so, erm, 200lbs more? I’ll end up somewhere around 500, it’s not an exact science.” My dick is hard again. Throughout all of this, I have noticed how huge his penis is, but there’s been so much else to take in. “And you’re hard again! Oh this will be fun,” he playfully states. He lowers his under robe, a huge, footlong, and thick as a wrist dick springs out, balls the size of small lemons. “You may touch elsewhere, I have no intention of firing you,” he flashes a shark-like grin. ********************************** I gingerly touch his huge, throbbing cock with my hands, left hand towards the hilt, right hand towards the head. I push the skin back towards the hilt and forth towards me, I start gently jacking him. “I love that you’re into this,” he grunts, “I usually have to get prostitutes, no-one likes a man to be this size.” I try and steady my breath, I want to have a calm conversation and not get too ahead of myself. “This is something I’ve noticed, there’s some sizes that most people just think are too much -“ I start to say. “As if there’s a too much,” he says, before groaning again under his breath. “I couldn’t agree with you more,” I say. I grip his huge dick slightly more with my right hand, keeping the rhythm going, while playing with his enormous balls. “Once I finish I usually start shrinking a bit back to my normal size,” he says, “sometimes it takes a few extra hours to reduce down.” “Your normal size is something I was impressed by,” I reply. “Oh believe me, it can go so much more than that,” he says, smirking, “actually, I’m taking the stuff so often it seems to have a residual effect, my smaller sizes are much larger than they used to be.” He flexes his hairy pecs, I moan and bury my face in them. He lets out a moan of approval. As I rub the left side of my face into his pecs, he raises his left arm and shows me its progress. I groan involuntarily, lean over and start kissing the huge growing bicep and tree trunk arm. He’s even thicker and bigger than he was before. “I like food too much to be a ripped god, but I guess from your messages on your muscle growth profile you like men beefier anyway,” he says, his voice has now definitely dropped an octave. “Size and mass are my thing,” I say, leaning over to kiss his now much enlarged arms. “You’re perfect,” he says. I hear a low rumble come out of his chest as his body expands further. “I must be getting close to the 400lb mark,” he adds. I step back, my hand still working his huge, perfectly cut and girthy footlong. He has expanded. He’s now starting to seriously take up my view of the room behind him, even when I step back. “Oh my god,” i whimper, under my breath. “So you’re enjoying this?” He flashes me a grin with those beautiful, perfect teeth. His eyes catch the light streaming in through the windows. The dark brown gets turned to a slightly reflective brown in the sun. He’s perfect. He lets out a low moan as I run my tongue along my lips. His huge arms envelope my back and he holds me tight to his huge chest. My face is buried in between the crevice of his impossible pecs. His slabs of abs, not super defined, but there, press into my stomach beneath my shirt. He squeezes me harder and I let out an involuntary whine. He gets his big hands under my armpits and lifts me just above the ground so we are eye to eye. “I told you I get bigger,” he says, his eyes looking at his enormous biceps. I can see them actually swelling, now that he’s holding me. Every pump of his heart is leading the muscles to engorge slightly more. In this position, hovering just a foot above the ground, his huge body visibly expanding in front of me, I feel something I didn’t want to feel again this quickly. My dick starts tensing incredibly hard, and before I know it, my cream trousers are once again coated on the inside. He looks at me closely as I groan under my breath. Then he realises. “Again?” He says, his voice even deeper than before. Those perfect teeth make another appearance in between smiling lips. My face flushes and I nod. He puts me down and starts unbuttoning my shirt and undoes my belt as I take off my clothes hurriedly. He gets to my boxers and runs his fingers along the huge wet patch. I’ve always been proud of how much I can cum. He rubs his fingers into it, and takes them to his mouth, and licks gingerly. “You taste good, actually,” he says, hesitantly. I hear him groan slightly under his breath. The traps and his neck now have no definite start or end point. He reaches out his hands and forces off my shoes, boxers and socks. I stand naked, in front of the Prince of Thazzan, he at around 450lbs I must guess by now, just his undergarments on, torn clothes on the floor, sandals and head garment still on. He holds me close to him again, my back clicks slightly as he squeezes me, I whine again. He kicks off his sandals and pushes me to my knees. He bends his huge body down slightly to lower the undergarment to his ankles and slaps his heavy dick across my face. His hands connected to his huge swelling arms wrap around the back of my head and force the dick between my lips. He gets two thirds in and I gag. My jaw is fully relaxed as it’s the only way to ensure I don’t bite any part of it. He pulls my head back and then fully back into his dick. It gets around 9” in. I gag again. I look up at him, eyes watering, his eyes and eyebrows just visible beyond his pec shelf and huge stomach. “I’m going to have to train you,” he growls. I feel my dick start to helplessly tense again. It’s looking up at his huge body that’s doing it. I beg internally for it not to happen as his huge dick tries to explore my mouth further and work further down my throat. I try and pull my head back but it’s useless to try something like that when there’s a 480lbs muscle guy restraining you. I close my eyes as they water, tears streaming down my face as I let out a moan on his dick and I shoot across the marble. I open my eyes and look up at him through the tears, dick still firmly lodged down my throat, my breathing partially constricted on it. He smirks, “you’re passing all my tests.” He grabs me under the armpits again and lifts me up, puts me down on the ground and my feet land in my own sticky mess. Great. He takes two steps back and I can feel every bit through the marble. “It’s solid foundations beneath this, you know,” he boasts, “that’s how heavy I am.” He gets on to the floor, when his hands touch the floor I feel reverberations too. “Pass me a pillow,” he says, I dumbly oblige, standing in my own cum. “Lie down, head on the pillow,” he growls. I get on my front on the cool marble floor as he stands up. Bones and joints click in his body. “On your back. I want to see you when I do this.” I dread what’s coming. He’s a monster. I knew this was going to happen but I’m still not prepared for it in the slightest. He lifts me legs with such effort as he gets on his knees, and the floor shakes, that I feel my ass and body being lifted up, up to my neck. “Oops,” he grunts, “you weigh nothing now.” He sits my feet on his shoulders and look up. I’ve never been more turned on. If I tilt my head left or right he still dominates my view. I feel the pain as my hole is stretched beyond belief. His now 500lb body lowering into me. Every inch feels like six with the added girth and pain. I am paralytic from pain and can’t even scream. My mouth is open but no sound comes out. He lowers his head right up to mine, forcing my legs back into a position I didn’t think possible, but his weight made inevitable. He kisses me on the lips, before moving his mouth to my ear. “This is my biggest, do you like?” he rumbles. He raises himself back up as his dick starts working in and out of my hole. I just want it to be over. He can train me, but the pain is too much. It would take years to adjust to a dick like this. I finally find my breath and let out a yelp of pain. He puts his right hand beside my head, I feel the ground shake, and his left hand covers my mouth entirely. “Shhhh,” he says, “I thought you liked guys my size,” he smiles. He removes his left hand from my mouth and flexes his left arm in front of me. My hands reach out for his arm like a thirsty person reaching for water and I realise both of my hands have no chance of ever being able to reach around his huge tree trunk arms. One hand barely covers a quarter of the circumference. “Do you like guys my size?” He asks, flexing his hulk-like left arm as I reach at it like a pathetic kitten. “Yes,” I moan, in between trying to breathe when not all of the 12 inches are inside. “This is two pills,” he gives me a wide grin, “I’ve got an unlimited supply,” he continues. I moan in approval, my hands now roaming over his impossibly huge, hairy chest and body. “I can grow like this any time I want,” he continues, as I continue to feel his burgeoning form, “any time,” he repeats. His thrusts get stronger, heavier, I feel his dick tensing inside my hole. “If it were up to me I’d be big like this all the time,” he says, I feel my dick starting to tense again involuntarily, I know what’s coming. “I want to be bigger than this, and I can get bigger than this any time I want, I only want to be this kind of size, only you understand,” he lets out a load groan and I feel what’s coming. His dick is pulsing hard deep inside my gut. “I have no limit!” I yell. I feel my hole suddenly flooded with sperm, his orgasms seem to actually be getting stronger. He lets out a deep, masculine roar as he collapses onto me, my legs flexed fully back beside my head. My dick tenses again and pumps out what it can from the very active half an hour it’s had. His orgasms seem to subside slightly before he groans into the pillow again, his full 500lbs of weight is seriously restricting my breathing and I start to panic slightly. I feel his huge strong dick continue to pump and tense inside me before he lets out a slightly higher pitched grunt and he feels less heavy on me. We lie there, breathing heavily.
    1 point
  7. A year long wait for Part Six, sorry, school got ahead of me and when I was finally free I wasn't in any mood to write. This part is mostly filler and some plot, more transformations to come in the next part though. Thanks for reading. Read Part One HERE Read Part Two HERE Read Part Three HERE Read Part Four HERE Read Part Five HERE Liquid Manhood Chapter Six Chris lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling deep in thought. The room was still dark, but dim light shone through the gaps in the curtains. The light illuminated the cause of Chris’ thinking, a large tent in Melvin’s bed sheet, and two massive feet that hung out the end of that bed. A couple of months ago Melvin had been a small runty nerd who Chris could twist around his little finger, but then Melvin took some of the magical elixir home. Now Melvin was more confident, he was questioning Chris’ decisions more and he was keeping Chris awake with hour-long fuck sessions every single day. The only benefit to being kept up so late is that Chris had the time to think over the events of the past few days. That first day when he found out what had happened to Melvin had been the hardest. Hearing that deep voice over the phone made his heart drop, but he nearly died when he found Melvin. Melvin had directed Chris to come talk to him at some apartment, his nerdy roommate opened the door in just his underwear. He was now tall, built and from the look of the bulge in his briefs, hung like a donkey. Seeing Melvin had only added fuel to the theory that the elixir had a plan of its own, that the changes it caused weren't random. That in fact it mattered on what sort of person you were, an undeserving person would end up as unappealing, but a deserving person, as Melvin appeared to be, would end up owning mouthwatering pecs with big silver dollar sized nipples, abs you could wash clothes on and a bulge that looked like it could feed a small village. The conversation between the two roommates was awkward mainly because Chris could see the four girls who lived in the apartment had been fucked senseless for what must of been several days. From where Chris sat he could see the girls in a sleeping cum stained heap on a bed in a bedroom, the doors having been pulled off its hinges, they all had smiles on their faces. A smile which matched Melvin’s smug smirk, he knew the situation between them had changed. Melvin though didn’t rub it in that he was now a towering stallion compared to Chris, which Chris had expected. Instead he talked about what had happened to him and what he’d thought was going on with the elixir. In the days following Melvin’s marathon fuck session both boys shared their theories on how the elixir affected the user. Chris’ theory that who you were mattered held more water then anything Melvin offered. It was nearly confirmed when Chris and, the now meathead, Melvin found out what happened to the people dosed by the water bottles from the school gym that Chris had tainted. The equipment manager Thaddeus Stern had ballooned into some ebony black beast of muscle and manhood, he was instantly recruited by football team to his own delight. Yuri was also dosed too, and to Chris’ delight he didn't end up huge. Instead the slim swimmer had swelled into some hairy bear. A gut of muscle and fat replacing his toned abs. Melvin didn't think the change was that bad, Yuri looked pretty intimidating, an opinion which seemed to be shared by others. Yuri had been recruited to the football team too. The third person to be dosed had surprised Chris. Coach Peters had changed and it seemed to have knocked him out of the funk that losing his football team had caused. His flabby gut had been sucked in and tightened, his hair darkened and his face lost a good 20 years of wear and tear. The man who now stomped around campus in a sweat suit with a big cigar in his mouth was nothing like the old Coach Peters. Scary was the word that Melvin had used after he'd been cornered and almost forced to join the football team by the new Peters. He was rebuilding the team and taking anyone who even looked like they lifted weights. Chris though was half attracted to the new barrel chested daddy like-coach. He would have expected that Peters to get the bad side of the elixir, but instead Peters’ love and loyalty to the boys on his team had instead made the elixir turn Peters into a better man than he already was. Chris’ reminiscing was ruined by the loud wet slapping coming from Melvin’s bed. The big lug had thrown back his blankets and was fisting his Pringles can cock with both of his meaty fists. Chris just rolled over and buried his face into his pillow hoping Melvin would only jerk off once this morning. ——————————————————————————————————————————— “Good workout today man” Thaddeus’ Barry White-like voice said Both he and Sean were standing in the locker room of the school gym, they had it to themselves as the other patrons seemed to flee the room when they both came in sweaty from their workout and stuffed into gym shorts that looked close to bursting. They'd both showered on the far side of the showers from each other, both trying to sneak in a quick wank, though it was hard to keep two massive muscle men jerking wrist fat monster cocks secret. Neither of them brought it up, even thought they’d both cum at the same time. “Yea, good lift” Sean agreed, pulling on his shirt The two muscle men were both buttoning up their shirts, both having the same issue of pulling the shirt together over their pecs. Thaddeus with his glistening ebony pec pillows and Sean with is fire-red furry slab like chest. Sean and Thaddeus had met soon after Coach Peters had recruited them both for football team and they’d become fast friends. Mainly it was due to them being forced together as they were both of similar size, but they shared an intense interest in video games, so a friendship had blossomed. A tv bolted up to the wall loudly played some sporting news show, the announcer worriedly talking about the removal of some big name athlete from the Dallas Cowboys because of some sort of disease. Sean had seen the guys face all over the internet and he’d even jerked off a fair bit to the guys modeling pics. Sean gave up on closing his shirt, his entire hairy pec cleavage on show. The button just below his pecs barely holding the shirt closed. “You coming round mine tonight to game” Sean asked pulling up the zipper of his jeans again Since his last growth spurt Sean had found a guy on Craigslist who was selling a tonne of clothes in sizes that could actually contain him, but now after a couple of months of actually working out, playing football and slowly growing he was beginning to outgrow them. Thaddeus, was himself just stuffing his overpacked undies into some jeans. He pulled the zipper up and gave his hefty bulge a good grope with a big black hand. “Nah man” Thaddeus chuckled deeply “Got a date tonight” Sean laughed “What again… did last nights go so well” Thaddeus left their gaming session last night with some cheerleader under this arm. The big black stud had been grinning ear to ear earlier when they started their workout, so it must of gone well. “Yea, yea, it did, nearly broke her bed” Thaddeus laughed, doing a little thrusting movement with his hips “But its not the same girl… her friend" “Slut” Sean laughed lightly punching Thaddeus’ shoulder Thaddeus packed up his gym bag and seemed ready to leave, obviously eager to get to this date. “Yea pretty much, I used to be some pathetic virgin” the black stud laughed “But since my growth spurt I've been getting pussy every day… even multiple pussies sometimes” Sean felt his eyes roll, Thaddeus just laughed at his reaction. The two friends said goodbye and the black beast thudded out of the locker room, leaving Sean to struggle to get his clown feet into sneakers that were falling apart because they were at least a size too small. The walk back to his dorm room was quick, but it was a constant barrage of stares as he stomped across campus. He knew his heavy bulge was bouncing from thigh to thigh with each step and his pecs were dangerously close to launching the remaining buttons of his shirt across the path ahead of him. Sean was struggling with his keys at his door, his big meaty fingers fumbling over the tiny, little pieces of metal. “Sean” a quiet voice asked Sean turned to look and just saw an empty corridor. Then he looked downwards. A nervous yet smiling brown haired boy stared up at him. It was the guy he’d brought all the old clothes from. A guy of barely 5ft2 who for some reason owned clothes ranging from XXL to XXXXL, Sean didn’t ask why. “Hey... Ben right” he asked, hoping he’d got the name right Ben nodded as Sean turned away from his door to look down at Ben. The smaller guys eyes widening as he stared at the thick overhang of Sean’s pecs. Thankfully his eyes weren’t looking down to the overstuffed bulge of his pants which was shockingly close to Ben’s eye level. They were silent for a few moments, Ben just watching as Sean’s pecs slowly heaved with each breath. Sean broke the silence “So, why are you here” He knew that Ben didn’t live in the dorm. He loved in one of big frat houses on the other side of campus. Ben muttered something, sounded like he was nervously gathering his words. “Just… just... wanted to see if you wanted to hang out” Ben asked, smiling slightly Sean wondered if Ben had actually wanted to ask something else, but the sight of Sean’s hulking hairy form had knocked all the confidence out of the little guy. Sean chuckled slightly “Sure, I was going play some games, but we can hang out” Sean opened his door, the gust of warm musky air washed over them both. Ben actually squeaked in surprise. “It's only a single-player game, but I’m sure we could find you something to do” Sean said, letting Ben pass into the room Sean followed him in, giving his big bulge a quick rearrange before closing the door and trapping the little guy. ——————————————————————————————————————————— “Do you have any books on witchcraft” Barrett asked up to the librarian Without even looking pass their glasses and down to the runty Barrett, they muttered a floor number. Barrett had gotten used to being ignored since his fall from grace. He quickly headed up the stairs, taking two at a time, which was a stretch for his short skinny legs. Luckily no one would recognize him, he wasn't the Barrett anyone on campus would recognize. A few months ago Barrett had received an email about his campuses links to magic and witchcraft, since then he’d been researching the subject. He’d read more books and written more down in these months then he’d ever done in his life. It had started as a simple way of passing the time and maybe distracting him from his diminished body and from the housekeeper's son cleaning the swimming pool shirtless, but it had become a desperate passion once AJ returned home. The doctors had said that AJ had a muscle wasting disease, the same thing that the doctors has said to Barrett. AJ had lost his position in the NFL and returned him a broken man. AJ was nearly as small and runty as Barrett was and was getting smaller all the time. His personality shift was more dramatic than Barrett’s had been, Barrett regularly could hear AJ crying himself to sleep. When AJ was a towering beast Barrett had never even heard a single word spoken in a unsure tone, let alone seen him shed a tear. The CDC had even visited the house to check it out for any environmental causes, they found nothing. Just like they’d found nothing at the athletic department on campus. Barrett had actually stopped off to see how things had changed. It was just the same as Barrett had left it, without any reminder that Barrett had ever existed. The CDC had even kept an office on campus, but they didn’t seem to be doing anything. Just some guy sitting alone in an office bouncing a tennis ball off the far wall. The suddenly collapse of his brothers obscenely manly physique and the CDC’s continued inability to find a medical cause had only pushed Barrett closer towards witchcraft and magic. It had knocked Barrett out of his depression, he’d become more active, more set on finding an answer. He’d be researching anything and everything that could link to his and AJ’s situation. Quickly moving away from any sort of scientific explanation and focusing almost entirely on the thin hope that something beyond explanation had caused his and AJ’s predicament. He came to the correct floor, wheezing, he was so unfit now. He moved through the cases and desks looking for some sort of sign directing him to his answer. The floor was pretty much empty of students. Just one guy with long black hair sitting at a desk with headphones on. Barrett stopped to stare at his guy, he was well built. Large pecs straining at his shirt and thick arms gripping the table. Barrett bit his lip, muscle really got to him, his little cock hardening in his pants. The guy let out a moan and Barrett could see a hand was beneath his shirt feeling up his pecs. Barrett knelt down to check under the table, having to look between the legs of chairs and desks between him and the big guy. A blond haired head was moving back and forth between the guys massive jean clad legs. Barrett let out a gasp and scurried between some bookcases. He heard a sloppy sounding slap and a guy, probably the blond, taking in deep breaths. “Zach, did you hear something… I think someone is here” one voice said between deep breaths “No one is here” another deeper voice said “Get back to sucking bitch” There was slapping sound and a return to wet sucking noises. Barrett was sitting on the floor, his back leaning against a bookcase. His cock rock hard at the sound of the blond struggling to deepthroat whatever this Zach had between his legs. Down the line of books, Barrett saw a massive ornate bookcase. Leather bound books of various sizes filled its shelves and a sign above in posh looking gold lettering read. “Tiberius J.J. Haber Occult Library” Barrett jumped to his feet, for the first time thankful that he was small, his feet making no sound as he moved. He ran down the aisle towards the bookcase. As he approached he saw how run down the bookcase was. The golden sign was faded, the wood chipped and in placed moldy. The books were covered in thick dust, but Barrett saw a few finger marks. A couple of books on the middle shelf had been touched recently, but only those books. He strained to reach up to them, again hating how small he was now. “Did you see that guy… getting a blowjob in the library” an insanely rich and deep voice boomed from down the aisle “From a guy…” another voice stated sounding annoyed “Damn” the deep voice muttered “I mean, nothing against gays, Chris, you know that…” The other guy, Chris, just sighed loudly. Barrett fell back to another set of shelves and hid behind them as the two men approached. One was tall with strong features, almost model like in his movements. The other was a brute, towering nearly as tall as the bookcases and nearly as wide as the aisle. The massive dude had a hand down his shorts and was obviously scratching at his balls. Chris though was inspecting the occult bookcase. Chris gently lifted the middle books away from shelf and tapped at the wood behind them. “Good, it’s still jammed” Chris said returning the books to their place “Huh” the big guy said, he’d been busy sniffing his hand after scratching his nuts “The compartment where we found the magic book… we jammed it so we’d know if someone else found it” Chris said, trying not to raise his voice at the giant guy The big guy's viking like face made an expression of understanding. His heavy lantern jaw moving to make an ‘oh’ sound. “It’s still jammed so whoever was asking about witchcraft never found it” Chris mused “Wait… how’d you know someone asked about that” the big guy asked “I paid the librarian to call me if someone did, why do you think we even rushed over here” Chris said smirking arrogantly “We don’t want anyone finding out what we did… well not till I’m your size” Chris gave a playful backhanded tap to the big guy’s abs which were showing through his shirt. The two turned and left, Barrett’s head spinning, could magic actually be real, what where they are hiding. He waited for the big guys wide back to vanish around a corner before slowly he started to follow them. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Sean was laying on his front on his bed. It was too small for him. His pecs were hanging off the end and he was awkwardly propping his meaty arms on the edge so he could play his game properly. His big mits pressing buttons and his TV loudly sounding out the gun shots of his character. “You ok back there little dude” Sean asked peeking over his shoulder to Ben Ben was laying between Sean’s legs, the big guys legs bent and pressing down on Ben’s back. Ben’s face was pressed between Sean’s rounded muscle ass and his tongue deep between the cheeks. “Just slap my ass once if yes, twice for no” Sean said, trying not to chuckle Ben’s little hand flew up and slapped the rock solid left cheek of Sean’s ass and then fell back to gripping at Sean’s thigh. “Good boy” Sean said returning to his game “In a bit I’m move across to my gaming chair, you can suck or sit on my dick if you like” Sean’s cock was rock hard and laying between his legs and throbbing against Ben’s tummy. “Well you going suck or ride it either way, I’ll let you choose which happens first” Sean’s let out a deep moan and almost crushed his controller as Ben excitedly assaulted his asshole with his talented and surprisingly large tongue. ——————————————————————————————————————————— On opposite sides of campus, two groups of friends were meeting. One a group of young men who were busy planning the next phase of their Homes for Humanity project. The other a group of young men planning which news agency’s website they were going to bring down with a denial of service attack. They were in similar number and a similar makeup of guys, just different in personalities. But one thing that these groups shared was that the refreshments at their meetings tasted weird.
    1 point
  8. Meine erste Muscle-Growth Geschichte. Leider komplett in Deutsch, da mein Schreib-Englisch echt schlecht ist. Ich hoffe dennoch, dass sie gefällt! ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Mein Leben als Muskel-Monster 1. Tag der Ferien Es war der letzte Schultag vor den Sommerferien als ich, mal wieder, heulend nach Hause kam. Eigentlich dachte ich, in der Oberstufe würde alles anders werden, aber die 11. und 12. Klasse war noch immer der Horror. Mobbing und üble Späße der sogenannten „Klassenkameraden“ waren an der Tagesordnung. Warum? Das wusste ich selbst nicht. Weder war ich „der dicke Nerd“, noch die „Bohnenstange“ oder sonst was. Ich war einfach nur David. Mit 1,90m vielleicht eigentlich ganz groß und mit knapp 78kg vielleicht etwas pummelig, aber nicht zwingend das typische Feindbild der coolen Kids. Meine Eltern waren noch auf der Arbeit und ich ging also in mein Zimmer, machte den Rechner an und versuchte die letzten Stunden einfach zu vergessen. Jan und Sven, die Anführer der Mobber hatten.... ach... eigentlich auch egal. Sie hatten jeden Tag irgendwas gemacht. Ich surfte also bei Tumblr, Deviantart und Co und schaute mir die Bilder von den muskulösen Männern an. Ja, natürlich. Ich war schwul. Vielleicht reichte das den beiden Idioten auch schon aus um mir das Leben zur Hölle zu machen. Wenn ich so Musklen hätte. 2m groß wäre und ein mega Ding in der Hose.... dann würden die sich aber umschauen. Genau als ich dies dachte poppte eine Werbung auf. War ja klar, dachte ich. Anhand meines Surf-Verhaltens waren ja immer zur passenden Zeit die richtigen Ads da. „Du willst Muskeln? Eine haarige Brust? Einen großen Schwanz? Dann bist du hier richtig? Nur zwei Klicks entfernt!“ Das alles und natürlich noch viel, viel mehr, verprach mir die blau-leuchtende Reklame. Es war wohl eine Mischung aus Verzweiflung und der aufkeimenden Idee ein Musklen-Monster zu werden, das mich die Anzeige anklicken ließ. Es folgten diverse Bilder von echt hübschen, großen und gut bestückten Männern bevor ich einen Fragebogen ausfüllen sollte. Wie groß bist du? Wie groß willst du werden? Gewünschtes Gewicht? Fettanteil? Penis Länge? Wunschlänge? ... und noch viel mehr. Ich füllte alles artig aus (oder besser gesagt, ziemlich geil und übertrieb ein bisschen) und kam an die Stelle, wo ich eine Telefonnummer oder Mail Adresse eingeben musste. Kurz überlegte ich und die Geilheit stach die Vernunft aus. Ich gab alles an. Es folgte sogleich eine Whatsapp: „Vielen Dank für Ihre Eingaben. Ihr Auftrag wird in Kürze bearbeitet.“ Oho... eventuell hatte ich jetzt doch Probleme. Wenn ich jetzt was bestellt hatte... meine Eltern... Oh. Mein. Gott.Panik machte sich breit, als ich aber drohte durchzudrehen kam eine weitere Whatsapp: „Lieber David. Wir haben dein Anliegen geprüft und können dir die Freigabe erteilen. Die Anpassungen werden wir vornehmen und in einem Zeitraum von 4-6 Wochen zur Verfügung stellen. Die Teilnahme an diesem Services ist aus bekannten Gründen für dich 100% kostenfrei. Wir würden uns freuen, wenn du uns weiterempfiehlst.“ Verwirrung machte sich breit. Sollte das ganze doch funktionieren? Ernsthaft? Es wirkte zu seriös. Oder machte sich da jemand einen Spaß draus, Leute zu verarschen? Ich war unsicher, aber auch ein bisschen geil und so beendete ich den Nachmittag mit einer ausführlichen Jack-Off-Session. Immer mit dem Bild von mir als Heavy-Weight-Bodybuilder vor Augen. Am nächsten Morgen war schon wieder alles vergessen und auch die erste Woche der Ferien war herrlich unspektakulär. Andere Kids verabredeten sich, ich spielte „League of Legends“ und „Overwatch“ mit Internet-Freunden. Denen war es egal, auf wen ich scharf war, solange ich gut war. Die 2. Woche Es war in der zweiten Woche, als ich nach dem Duschen mich mal wieder auf die Waage stellte und diese auf 83kg sprang. Ok... vielleicht hatte ich beim Spielen ein wenig viel Chips gefuttert. Ein genauerer Blick in den Spiegel zeigte mir aber, dass mein Bauch sogar flacher wirkte. War meine Brust definierter? Und... waren da Brusthaare zu sehen? Sogleich meldete ich die Erinnerung an die Anzeige und einen Augenblick später stand ich mit einem Latte im Bad. Ich fing an dümmlich zu grinsen in freudiger Erwartung, was da alles kam. Dieses verflog aber recht schnell, als ich mir nur ein paar der fiktiven Werte in den Kopf rief. Oh fuck. Die 4. Woche Ich machte langsam die Augen auf und stöhne leicht. Es war unerträglich heiß die Nacht gewesen und ich hatte – zum ersten Mal in meinem Leben – komplett nackt geschlafen. Aber langsam konnte ich mir das auch leisten. Ich wuchtete mich aus dem Bett hoch und wankte schlaftrunken Richtung Bad. Dort angekommen stieg ich zuerst auf die Waage. 103kg. Die Zahl war etwas schwer zu erkennen, da meine Penis... (ich musste mich noch des Wortes Schwanz ein wenig erwehren) mit seinen nun harten 18cm einen Teil der Zahlen verdeckte. Es folgte ein Blick in den Spiegel. Ich sah aus, als ob ich nichts anderes machen würde als Gewichte zu stemmen. Ich hatte langsam schon ein gut sichtbares SixPack, definierte Brust, großen Biceps, schmale Taille und wuchtige Beine. Als Bonus oben drauf: Haarige Brust, 3-Tage-Bart und markantes Kinn. Ich würde Jan und Sven fertig machen und dann in Grund und Boden ficken. Ich vermutete, dass das erhöhte Testosteron mich so denken lies.... Ich hoffte es zumindest. Meinen Eltern schien die Veränderung nicht aufzufallen. Auch nicht, als ich sie innerhalb kürzester Zeit schon wieder um Geld für neue Klamotten bat. Ich bekam 200 € und durfte Shoppen gehen. Langsam verabschiedete ich mich auch von Shirt von C&A und ging zu lässigen Tanktops und Sportbekleidung über. Einfach nur geil. Die letzte Ferienwoche Langsam kamen mir Zweifel. So geil dieser Körper auch war, so sehr fing er auch an mir Probleme zu bereiten. Mein Gewicht lag bei 146kg. Meine Abs konnte ich nur noch im Spiegel anschauen, da meine Brust zu wuchtig war. Mein Hintern war gigantisch und sorgte dafür, dass in jeder Unterhose mein Schwanz so aussah, als ob ich einen Fußball schmuggeln wollte. Ok... bei schlaffen 25cm ist das auch gar nicht so weit hergeholt. Aber Kleidung wurde langsam echt ein Problem. Tanktops waren ganz ok, aber für die Schule? Und meine Trainings-Hotpants? Die überließen nichts der Fantasie. Auch teilte mir mein Vater in einem ersten Gespräch mit, dass meine Sportsucht meinen Eltern Sorge bereitet. Er meinte, er kenne nicht viele 17-jährige mit meinen Ausmaßen. Weiterhin müssten sie schauen, da ich wohl einen mehr als gesunden Appetit an den Tag lege würde. Die Lebenshaltungskosten seien enorm gestiegen. Ich hatte übertriebe, aber der Gedanke daran Jan und Sven eins auszuwischen war es mir wert. Ich sagte meinem Vater, dass ich langsam machen würde im Studio und mir einen Nebenjob suchen würde. Vielleicht als Porno-Darsteller. Das, war zum Glück nur gedacht. Der erste Schultag Oberstufe. 13. Klasse. Ich war eine Stunde vor dem Wecker bereits wach und machte mich fertig. Ich hatte mein Outfit wohl überlegt und musste nun an die Details gehen. Mein finales Gewicht lag bei 151kg bei 8% Körperfett. Ich hatte angefangen seit Woche 4 mir einen Bart wachsen zu lassen und hatte nun einen dichten Vollbart, den ich nochmal in Form brachte. Das war durch meinen gigantischen Biceps gar nicht so einfach. Meine Hose war eine Skinny-Jeans die wie eine zweite Haut an meinen Beinen anlag und man die Outline von meinem Schwanz gut sehen konnte. Darüber kam ein Long-Tee mit weitem Ausschnitt. Ich verdeckte also die Kontur von meinem Gemächt (ein bisschen) und man konnte die trainierte, haarige Brust sehen. Ich zog mir noch meine Schuhe an, was bei meiner Größer und Umfang auch ein bisschen schwerer war , und ging runter zum Frühstück. Ein letzter Blick in den großen Spiegel im Flur. Ich sah aus wie ein 17-jähigers Testosteron-Monster, das jede freie Minute im Fitnessstudio verbrachte und einen mehr als gesegneten Genpool hat. Zeit Sven und Jan hallo zu sagen und sich auf ein tolles, letztes Schuljahr zu freuen.
    1 point
  9. The Perfect Couple by Ultrabeef Skyler and Parker finished up their workout and headed to the showers. The cute 20 something gay couple were the envy of all their friends. Their attractive toned bodies and chised features made them look like a couple of fashion models. Skyler had short brown hair and a perfect physique and was in finance however while Parker, blond and also toned, was getting his start in real estate. They were the perfect couple and living the American dream: great realtionship, attractive partner, making great money. As they headed to the locker room a huge roided behemoth blocked their path. They had seen the guy at the gym often; grunting and heaving ridiculously heaving weights in the free weight area while Skyler and Hunter used the treadmills and machines. "Hey bros, looking good out there today" the huge bodybuilder rumbled in his deep bass. "Um, thanks...'bro'" Parker replied, somewhat sarcastically as Skyler nudged him hissing "Shut up, do you want to get us killed?". The huge guy, ignoring the latent sarcasm continued "My name's Ian. Ian Walsh." The two hunky twinks stared at him blankly until he continued "And you are?". "Oh...um...sorry" Skyler muttered, realizing his rudeness. "I'm Skyler" he smiled weakly extending his hand that was almost ripped off by the huge meaty paw of Ian. "Nice to meet you Skyler. Who's your friend?" "I'm Parker. Skyler’s boyfriend" Parker replied with an emphasis on "boyfriend" in case Ian might have gotten the wrong idea. "Nice to meet you too" Ian purred, grabbing Parker’s arm and shaking his hand roughly. "You know, I've been watching you two for a while" Ian continued as Skyler and Parker looked at each other confusedly. Ian continued unphased "I think a couple attractive guys like yourself would look awesome with some muscle mass on you". As he spoke Ian bounced his pecs in his sweaty stringer tank. Skyler's eyes widened and the bulging beef in front of him. "Um. Thanks but I think we're good" Parker politely replied. "Well, that's a shame. If you dudes change your mind and want to get huge and jacked like me, give me a call". Ian flexed his huge bicep as he handed Skyler & Parker a plain, white business card. On it were the words "Ian Welsh, Muscle Growth Specialist" and a phone number. "Thanks" Parker replied. "Um, yeah...thanks" Skyler mumbled as Parker shoved him toward the showers. That evening, as Parker packed for a trip home from the big city to visit his parents, Skyler was uncharacteristically quiet. "What's on your mind babe?" Parker asked, snapping Skyler out of his daze. "Oh...nothing" Skyler lied. "Come on, I know that look. What's up?" Skyler sighed "It's that freaky musclehead at the gym. He really got inside my head today”. "What? You're kidding right? You don't want to be some huge musclehead. Do you?" Parker paused and looked at Skyler's face. "I...I guess not. I mean who wants to be some overgrown freak, right?" Skyler laughed. "Yeah!" Parker laughed too but was troubled by Skyler's strange behavior. Parker had arrived back from his parents' house early Sunday morning and had jumped in the shower. As he got out of the shower and dressed he could hear Skyler making breakfast in the kitchen. "Hey sweetie! You're up! I'll be right there" Parker called from the bathroom. "Hey babe, eggs ok for breakfast?" Skyler called in a rough, deep voice from the kitchen. "Eggs? You always have a kale smoothie. And what's with your voice? Are you coming down with a cold sweetie?" Parker was saying as he entered the kitchen and froze in his tracks. There at the stove, with his back to Parker, was an enormous bodybuilder. He was wearing a tattered t-shirt that had the sleeves ripped off to accomodate his thick, gorilla-like arms. His back was impossibly wide and tapered to a relatively small waist. The guy had a big, thick bubble butt that was straining against his pajama shorts. His legs were thick and corded with muscle. Then the guy turned around and Parker gasped "S...Skyler?!" The huge guy bounced his ample pecs and smiled "Mornin babe". “Wha...what the fuck did you do to yourself?!” Parker gasped taking in the freakish bodybuilder his boyfriend had become. Skyler smirked a cocky grin as he adjusted the thick cock that bulged obscenely in his shorts. “I gave that Ian guy from the gym a call, babe” Skyler flexed his freakish arms in a double bicep pose and grinned “you like?” “Um, fuck no!” Parker snarled. “You look like some overgrown roid-head, the kind of guy we always made fun of at the gym! You’ve got to turn yourself back to normal! I mean how is it even possible to transform your body like this in just a few days?!” Skyler was getting worked up and shouting at his huge boyfriend. “I think I look hot. And so does Ian” Parker mumbled, “besides, I can’t transform back, it’s permanent”. “How are you going to even go to work looking like that? You’re disgusting. All veiny and bulging. None of your suits will even fit!” Parker staggered to the kitchen chair and slammed himself down. He was so upset and confused. Two days ago he and his hot toned boyfriend were living their dream life and now Skyler had ruined everything with his ridiculous muscle growth. “I can’t believe you’re acting like this babe” Skyler put his huge hand on Parker’s shoulder. “Don’t touch me, you freak!” Parker screamed causing the massive Skyler to pull his hand away. “I’m going to the gym” Skyler mumbled grabbing his gym bag. “To meet up with that asshole Ian?” “Yeah, probably. Why? You got a problem with that?” Skyler flexed his pecs intimidatingly at Parker. “No. Why should I care?” Parker mumbled, his voice cracking as tears streamed down his face. “Look babe. I love you! I don’t give a fuck about Ian. I always wanted to be a big manly guy and now I am. I love feeling so strong and masculine. I thought you’d love it too. I guess I was wrong.” “Yeah, I guess so” Parker sobbed. “Look, I’ll be back later and we can talk, ok?” Skyler’s looked so dejected that Parker just mumbled “sure” instead of telling him off. Skyler kissed Parker on the head before waddling to the door, his massive back as wide as the doorway. As Parker sat in the silence of the empty apartment he wiped the tears away from his chiseled cheeks. Then he went to his bedroom and reached into his gym bag. He pulled out the card Ian had given him with his number “Ian Walsh, Muscle Growth Specialist”. Pulling out his cell phone, Parker dialed the number on the card. “Yeah” a deep gruff voice answered. “Um, is this Ian?” Parker sheepishly asked. “Sure is dude”. “Um, my name is Parker. We met at the gym last week. You um “helped” my boyfriend Skyler”. “Ha! Hell yeah, I remember you, sarcastic little punk. l wondered how long it would take you to call.” “Uh, yeah, I...” Parker, not usually at a loss for words stammered. “I’ll be right over” Ian growled and the phone went dead. “Shit!”mumbled Parker to himself, “what have I done?” Within a few minutes there was a loud knock on the door, Parker opened it to find the massive Ian standing there. Ian was wearing white spandex shorts that could barely contain his massive cock and glutes and a black stringer tank that left little to the imagination as his wide pecs and shoulders bulged from the flimsy shirt. “Um, hi. Come in” Parker weakly invited Ian into the apartment. “It seems like I was here only yesterday! Oh, I guess I was here yesterday!” Ian laughed a deep, mocking laugh. “So, what can I do for you cutie?” Ian eyed Parker up and down, “damn, I hope Skyler realizes how lucky he is to have a hottie like you!” Parker blushed uneasily and looked toward the floor, his former sarcasm drained in the presence of the large bodybuilder. “So, do you like how Skyler turned out? Awesome, isn’t it?” “Actually, no. I hate it. You have to change him back.” Parker replied, finding his voice. “Change him back?!” Ian laughed again in his deep hearty laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me? He’s a total uber muscle stud now! I saved him from being a nobody! Plus, the change is permanent!” Parker stared glumly at the floor, not sure what to say. “Oh fuck, is that why you called me? To change Skyler back?” the realization dawning on Ian. “Well, of course, why did you think I called you?” “Well,” Ian smiled dangerously, “I thought you wanted to get huge too!” Now it was Parker’s turn to laugh, “you’ve got to be kidding me! Who would want to be a fucking roid-head muscle freak like you?” “Well, your boyfriend seems to like “being a freak” as you say” Ian advanced menacingly toward Parker. “Personally, I think a handsome cocky little shit like you could use an attitude adjustment and some manly muscle like this!” Ian bounced his huge pecs in Parker’s face before roughly shoving him against the wall. Parker yelled “Stay away from me, you fucking freak, or I’ll...” “You’ll what?” Ian smiled an evil grin. “You’re gonna be so fucking hot when I get through with you”. With one huge muscular arm pinning Parker against the living room wall Ian whipped out a large syringe filled with green liquid and quickly jabbed it into Parker’s chest with his free hand. “What the FUCK!!” Parker screamed, “what the fuck did you do?”. “Well, considering Skyler paid for our 2 for 1 special, I just completed his order” Ian grinned. “Skyler did what?” Parker asked in a daze as his head started to cloud over and a buzzed sensation filled his brain. “Oh, this is my favorite part!” Ian sat on the sofa to watch the show as Parker staggered toward a chair to keep his balance. “Wha...what’s happening?” Parker mumbled in confusion. “What’s happening is you’re about to grow into a nice big bodybuilder boyfriend for Skyler” Ian purred. “No...fuck! This can’t be happening!” As he spoke, Parker looked down and saw his hands swelling larger, his forearms expanding wider stretching his Oxford dress shirt. “Urrggh!” Parker growled as his muscles started to swell larger. “Fuck...no! I...don’t...want...to be a...freak!” Parker panted as his shirt grew tighter and tighter, he could see his biceps straining against the fabric of his shirt and could feel his shoulders and back stretching the shirt tight as they grew wider with each passing moment. Parker grunted as be felt a heaviness forming in his chest. “Oh fuck! No!Not my pecs!” Parker tried to hold his shirt closed as his chest swelled with beefy brawn going from toned to swoll. “Oh fuck yeah!” Ian was sitting on the edge of the couch and was stroking his hard, thick dick as he watched Parker’s shirt burst open sending buttons spraying across the room and allowing his swelling pecs the freedom they desired. Parker’s chest heaved and the weight of his burgeoning pecs forced his expanding nipples toward the floor as a deep crevice formed between them. Parker could feel his abs bulging, from the perfect six pack that he was so proud of and was the envy of all the guys and girls at work, into a thick, hard, muscle gut. His swelling midsection caused his tight skinny jeans to burst open at the waist. “Shit, shit! Shit!” Parker moaned, his voice deepening to a rich baritone as his neck thickened. His quads were thickening as well, easily shredding open his jeans at the seams, his calves swelling into perfect pillars of muscle. Parker could feel his butt growing too. No longer a cute, toned, bubble butt Parker could feel his glutes swelling into a huge, thick, muscle-ass. As Ian shot his load across his spandex shorts, Parker’s growth began to slow. “What the fuck have you done to me?!” Parker growled in his newly deep voice. He staggered to the bathroom mirror and took in the sight of his new body. Too engrossed in what he was seeing to notice Ian sneaking out the door, but not before texting Skyler “your order is complete, and I think you’ll love the results”. As soon as Skyler received Ian’s text he cut his workout short and hurried home. As he entered the apartment he could tell something was different. The living room and kitchen were a mess, furniture was out of place and overturned and the smell of manly musk and cum was thick in the air. Skyler hurried to the bedroom but it was empty. “Parker? Are you here?” Skyler called out. “I’m right here babe.” The deep, rumbling bass shocked Skyler, he slowly turned around and gasped. Standing in the doorway (filling it actually) was a massive blond bodybuilder. He was totally jacked, thick veins and stretch marks snaked across his skin. His face was still chiseled like Parker with high cheekbones, full pouty lips, and a wide jaw, but it was dusted with scruff giving him a dangerous, manly look. The hulking muscle beast was squeezed into a white thong, wet with cum, that attempted to contained his massive cock. “Holy shit! Parker?! Is that really you?” Skyler breathlessly moaned. “Oh you better believe it babe!” Parker raised his arms into a wicked double bicep pose and bounced his ample pecs. “I...I’m sorry to turn you into a freak, like me, but...” Skyler suddenly felt badly, overcome with the realization that the old Parker was gone forever. “Fuck babe! Are you kidding me? Look at me, I’m fucking jacked! And I’m all yours, stud.” Parker rubbed his muscle gut causing Skyler to moan softly. “You like all this beef babe?” Parker turned around and bent over the bed revealing his huge, thick muscle ass. “Oh fuck!” Skyler purred, ripping his gym shorts off revealing his raging boner. “Fill me with that big dick, babe” Parker moaned as Skyler mounted the hulking stud.
    1 point
  10. I had mixed feelings about letting my cousin Eddie move in with me. I hadn't seen him for several years, since I graduated college and moved out of town. He had moved in with us when he was 13 and I was 18, just about to finish high school, so we didn't exactly hang out much. Especially since I was kind of an egghead, and he was a jocky kid, even then. We didn't have a lot in common. So when my sister called to ask me to take him in for awhile, I wasn't sure. "Come on, Jack," said my sister Ann. "It would only be for a month or so. Two at the most. He just got out of jail and is having a hard time...." "Wait....What? He just got out of jail? What for?" "It was only for 3 months. He got into a bar fight. From what I heard, someone was bothering a friend of his, and Eddie beat the guy up." "Jesus, Ann. How badly?" "Pretty bad, I guess. The guy was in the hospital for awhile, but he's OK now. But you know how Eddie was always big for his age. Sometimes he forgets his own strength. Remember how he put that pull-up bar in the dining room doorway, and would do chin-ups for hours?" "Yeah, I remember." How could I forget. The kid would do set after set of chin-ups, then strip off his shirt and check himself out in the big mirror over the dining room breakfront. At 13, he already had the exaggerated V torso of a twenty year old gymnast. "And then he did all that wrestling," Ann said. I remembered that, too. As a freshman, he had pinned the coach in his very first practice. The story flew thru school about how the new kid had trounced Coach Eakins. When he got home from school that day, I was in the kitchen. He opened up the refrigerator, grabbed a gallon of milk, and downed the whole thing. "Time to get huge," he'd said. Defeating the coach had fed his ego, too. He'd looked me up and down, like he was sizing me up. He was already slightly taller than me, and clearly much stronger. "Wanna wrestle?" he'd asked me, then sort of laughed, and sauntered out of the room. He'd continued to grow after that, and in his junior and senior years, he was state wrestling champ in the heavyweight class. About the last time I saw Eddie, I'd come home for a couple of weeks after college. I was watching TV in the family room, when I realized someone was standing in the doorway. I looked over and saw him standing there in a pair of sweat pants and shirtless. He took a bite out of the apple he was holding, and said, "Wanna wrestle?" At the time, I was 22 and around 170lbs. He was 17, 5'11, and around 245lbs, bulked and thick, but solid. Before I could even answer, he just sort of laughed and walked away. "And since you moved away," Ann continued,"he's gotten into powerlifting. He's gotten bigger." "How big?" I asked. "Well, he really shot up in height. I'd guess he's around 6'6". I'm not sure how much he weighs, but he's kind of massive. He got even bigger during his three months in jail." Probably from all the prison roids, I thought to myself. "And you want him to move in with me?" "Oh, Jack. It's not like he's going to beat you up, you're family. Besides, he was provoked that night. He only hit the guy once or twice. He's just so strong." "And what's he have to come here for?" "Because you're the one in the big city, and he needs to find a job as part of his probation." Great. "OK, but only because you're asking me to. You owe me one, sis." That next weekend, Eddie showed up. I looked out when I heard a truck pulling into the driveway, and saw a big red Ford pickup. As Eddie climbed out, I couldn't believe my eyes. He had definitely gotten huge. He had on a stringer tank and baggie sweats. He grabbed a big duffel bag out of the back of his pickup, and started walking toward the house. It looked like Dennis Wolf was walking up my sidewalk. Big blond strapping musclehead. I opened the front door before he got to it. "Hey, Cuz," he said, looking me over. "Long time no see." Gone was the blocky shaped heavyweight build that he had in high school. Now, at 6'6" and easily 320lbs, he had the pronounced V torso of an advanced, elite bodybuilder. His delts were the size of soccer balls, and I'd never seen such overly developed traps. The stringer tank highlighted the size and rise of them, as they swelled up into his thick bull neck. "You still look the same," he said. I wasn't sure how to take that exactly, since I'd gained 20lbs of muscle since college, and at 5'10, 185lbs, was in excellent shape, albeit puny next to my massive younger cousin. "Come on in," I said, stepping back from the door and letting him in. He seemed even bigger as he ducked his head thru the doorway and stood next to me in my small entranceway. "Sorry if I smell kinda ripe," he said, lifting his arm and sniffing his armpit. "The air is broken in my truck, I've been sweating like a pig the whole way here." And he was right, he was definitely ripe. His scent filled the room like a pheromone. I noticed that his tank top was soaking wet with sweat, and watched as it rolled down from his armpit, down his lats into the wet waistband of his sweats. "You want to take a shower?" I asked him. "That'd be great, Cuz." "Come on upstairs. I'll show you your room and you can get cleaned up." I headed to the stairs with Eddie following me up. "This is my room on the right. Yours is down here on the left." He looked into my room for a second, then came to his room. He looked inside. "Dude, that's a twin bed. You think I'm gonna fit on that?" He had a point, although I thought, as a guest, he might have at least tried it out. "I didn't expect you to be quite so big, Eddie. Besides, this is the only guest room I have. Didn't you have to sleep on a bed this size in jail?" He frowned down at me. "No, I just slept of the floor of my cell. It made me tougher." Then he knocked into me with his big shoulder and sent me slamming into the door jam. "Jerkoff," I said, rubbing my arm. He just laughed. "Hey, I know, Cuz, let's wrestle for your room." I looked at him as he stripped of his soaked stringer and tossed it to the floor. The thick muscles of his torso were etched and striated. I backed away from him into the bedroom. "Come on, Cuz," said Eddie, motioning for me to come at him with his hands. He crotched over into a wrestling stance, and he was still taller than I was. "You and the wrestling thing again. Forget it, man, you could take two guys my size." Eddie smirked. "More like 3 or 4," he said. "It's my room," I said. "Not for long," he responded. Then he lifted his arms and flexed them up. "Check it out," he said. "twenty-four inches of cousin-crushing pythons. I tell you what, Cuz, if you can get by me and get to your room, you can keep it." "Fuck yourself, juicehead, I'm not fighting you for my own room." I turned as if I was going to look out the window, but then I turned back and darted towards him. I ran around his left side, and made my way for the doorway. I was halfway thru it when I felt him grab me by my belt and hurl me back inside. He tossed me one handed, like a bowling ball, and I flew into the far wall and bounced down onto the twin bed, hitting the edge of the frame so hard that it bent down in the middle. Eddie laughed. "See that, the fucking little bed won't even hold a shrimp like you." He came over and straddled me in the bed. My face was pressed up against his big pecs. He had veins snaking across his chest, pencil-thick veins, especially on the upper roll of his mounds, snaking like the Mississippi, on their way to his huge delt caps. He was wet with sweat, as if he'd just come out of a rainstorm. "You fucking reek," I said, as I caught a good whiff of him. He shifted to his right, opened up one deep pit and pulled my face into it. I almost gagged. The stench reminded me of the locker room in high school, where the big dumb jocks would wear the same clothes to gym class for weeks at a time. That ripe, jocky smell of test and growing muscle and over-ripe sweat. The bed frame continued to sag as Eddie leaned into me, until the middle was touching the floor. The legs began to bend inward. "All that tren is making me sweat buckets," he laughed. "But also making me insane strong. I could fold this frame in two with you in it," he said, and I felt his muscles start to flex and ripple. His upper arms were as big as my quads. I choked on his funk, but I couldn't help breathing it in deeply. "Instead, I'm calling dibs on your room," he said. I moved my head out of his steamy pit and tried to push his weight off me. He leaned closer into me. "Push harder, Jackie," he growled into my ear. I pushed harder and harder, but it was like trying to move a bank vault. I pounded on him with my fists, with no effect except to make his sweat splatter. He ground his heavy leg against me, and I could feel his cock pressing into me thru his sweats. It felt like the size of one of those rolls of cookie dough you buy at the supermarket. I could hear his breath deepening. I looked up at his face, and he was staring right back at me, sweat dripping off his nose. Neither of us said anything for a few seconds, but then, at the same time, we both went "Whhhoooa." Eddie pushed himself off me and got up off the bed. He stood with his back to me and adjusted himself in his sweats. His huge back muscles rolled with muscle even from this slight motion. "That was weird," he said without looking at me. Then he picked up his duffle bag and headed out of the spare bedroom, turning down the hallway toward my room. "Hey, ya big Ox," I said, "where am I supposed to sleep?" When he didn't answer, I struggled my way out of the broken bed. I looked at it for awhile, then pulled the mattress out of the twisted metal, and laid it out flat on the floor. When Eddie came back to the doorway, he'd stripped down to a pair of tighty whities, which looked like the kind he used to parade around the house in when we were growing up. In fact, they looked old enough to be one of those pairs, with holes along the waistband and more of a gray color than white. They stretched out so tight on him, they looked like mesh wear. "Aw, geezus, Eddie," I said. "I'm gonna take a shower," he said, leaning against the door frame, adjusting himself in his too tight briefs. "If you move my duffle bag out of my room while I'm in there, I'll mess you up, Cuz." I couldn't help but stare at the size of him. Especially his quads. A good 32 inches of pure hard muscle, and, like his pecs, snaked with veins. And the biggest calves I'd ever seen. He saw me looking at them, stuck his left leg forward, shook the quad muscle back and forth, then flexed it hard. The muscle tightened up like granite. "Fuck," I said. "Anytime you wanna wrestle for your room back, let me know," he said. Then he walked down the hall to the shower. I heard him chuckling. While he was in the shower, I went downstairs and tried to do some work on my iPad. I wasn't getting much done. I couldn't get my mind off the big galoot who'd just taken over my bedroom and was now living with me. I should have thrown him out right then and there. But I had to admit, I liked the idea of a huge powerful alpha galoot living with me, taking what he wanted, telling me what to do. I wasn't thrilled that I liked it, but I did. When I heard him come out of the shower, I went back upstairs. Eddie was in my room, with a towel wrapped around his waist, flexing in the big mirror above my dresser. "Oh yeah, I am gonna like this room," he said. He flexed into a most muscular pose. "Geezus, Eddie," I said from the doorway. "Yeah, you believe this size, Cuz? And I'm just getting bigger. Bigger every week." He flexed down harder. "Have you ever seen how big your back is, man?" I asked him. "Not lately. Why?" "Let me show you." I still had my iPad in my hand. I held it up. "Stand there relaxed, I'll take a picture." Eddie stopped flexing and shook out his arms, then stood full upright. I took a shot of his broad back. "Now do a lat spread," I said. Eddie eagerly complied, bringing his shoulders up and back, putting his hands on his waist and digging his thumbs into his lower back. "Bam!" he said, as his lats opened up and out. I took a couple of pics. "Take some more," he said, and he leaned forward, then stood back up and spread his back out even farther. "Get a good shot of these bat wings," he grunted thru his flex. I took some more shots. He stopped flexing and said, "Take some more relaxed shots." So I did. His back muscles, just from that short amount of posing, were popping out thicker and more pronounced. His arms, hanging at his sides, were being pushed up higher by his swelling lats. I took a bunch of pics from different angles. When I was done, I pulled the pics up on the screen, and started scrolling thru them. Each one was better than the last. "Lemme see," said Eddie, coming over to me. We both leaned over the iPad as I showed him the shots. "Oh, yeah," he said, very pleased with himself. "Look at that shit. Fucking huge." He walked back over to the mirror and checked himself out some more. Then he undid his towel and let it drop to the floor. "Aw man, what the fuck?" I said, turning aside. Eddie laughed. "What's the matter, you never seen a dude naked before. Besides, I have to get dressed. I gotta go out tonight and get laid. I'm so fucking horned up." I tried not to check him out naked, but I couldn't help a sneak peak. His big schlong swung between his quads like a pendulum. "I thought all those roids woulda made your junk shrink," I said. "Not for me, little Cuz. My dick's twice the size it was before I started." He cupped it in his hand and bounced it up and down as if to weigh it. "My balls mighta shrunk up a little, but they were always too big to begin with. You wanna see?" Then he cupped them up too. "Jerkoff," I said, going toward the door. "Get dressed." He laughed as I headed downstairs. Ten minutes later, Eddie came downstairs. He had on a pair of jeans that fit his big legs and glutes like they were tailor-made. He had on a shirt that looked two sizes to small, so that it highlighted his mass. "Hey," I said after looking him over, "is that my shirt?" "Yeah," he said, grinning. "I found it in your closet. You don't mind, do you?" It was a $300 dollar silk Versace shirt that I had splurged on for going out clubbing. I had only worn it once. It was two sizes to big on me, but I had liked the way it looked until my friends told me it looked too blousey. Eddie was about to rip right out of it, it was so tight on him. It totally magnified his size and power. "No, it's cool," I said, resigned. It looked way better on him. "Just one thing," I said. I got up and went over to him. I reached up and unbuttoned the top two buttons, which were about to pop off anyway. The shirt spread open like a lotus flower, exposing a broad V of thick chest muscle. The seams on the sleeves were straining, the silk so tight on his arms that I could see the big veins on his arms showing thru the fabric. "Thanks, Cuz," he said. "You wanna come with me?" "No, that's ok. I have an early day at work tomorrow. Maybe next time." I gave him the address of a club in town I thought he'd like. He grabbed his keys and went out the door. I heard his truck start up. I had the ipad in my hands before he was out of the driveway. I pulled up his pictures. I'm sure I had my hand on my dick before he had turned off my street. His back was so huge. Dennis Wolf huge. Big powerful wings. This was so wrong, jerking to my cousin. I couldn't help it. Biggest strongest muscle I'd ever been near. Back muscles so big they looked morphed. Goddammit. Can see his huge glutes even thru his towel. So big. Look at him. Superheavyweight cousin. So wrong. Looking bigger in each pic. Spreading his back out like a pro. Big cocky ex-con musclehead cousin. Look at his spread...so wide...arms jutting out to his sides. Each picture better than the last. I used my fingers on the pad to bring his back up even closer. Till his lats and traps filled the whole screen. oh my god what an Ox......a whole screen of thick, moprhed back muscle..Then I thought of his scent..his pungent jocky musk..so thick and vile, yet I couldn't get enough. I couldn't hold back either, as I let my jiz spray to my own kin, came so hard, felt it from my toes on up. Sprayed to my forbidden lust for my genetic freak cousin. I'd never had a better orgasm.
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  11. I haven't posted a story in a while - here's my next offering, I hope it's enjoyable...I really loved writing it. There are three parts, all pretty much written so I might post some more later. Part 1 “Oh FUCK baby…give it to me,” Justin moaned. I looked down to watch my thick cock sliding in and out of my boyfriend-of-2-years’ tight ass. “Mmmm, you fucking slut,” I growled, picking up the pace, ramming my 8-inch cock in hard and fast, enjoying the sound of Justin’s breath catching in his throat as I did. We both LOVED fucking doggy style. I grabbed his hips with both hands, pulling him back onto my cock and looking down to see my flexed biceps bulging. Justin screamed with pleasure. “OH FUCK YEAH”. Sweat dripped from my heaving, swollen pecs down onto my defined abs. Still pounding Justin’s sexy ass, I ran one hand up his back, feeling him shiver to my touch, and grabbed his hair, pulling his head back hard. “Mmmmmmm YEAH,” Justin moaned, desperate. He loved it rough. “TAKE THIS THICK COCK SLUT BOY,” I roared, fucking him even harder. Justin gasped, moaning continuously and pushing his twink ass back onto my cock. “Breed me Daddy,” he begged. I was getting close. “Oh I will boy,” I grunted, pounding him like an animal rutting. I looked up at the mirror on the wardrobe opposite our bed. God we looked hot when we fucked. I brought one arm up, flexing my bicep as I hammered Justin’s ass hard. I loved the look of my swollen peak, veins mapped across the surface, the epitome of manliness. Justin loved it too – he looked up while we fucked and then reached down, starting to jerk his cock as he stared at my pumped bicep. “Mmmmm look at your fucking huge biceps,” he groaned, clearly close to cumming himself. The sight of my hot twink boyfriend jerking his cock to my muscular arms, pushed me over the edge. “FUCK BABE I’M GONNA CUM,” I roared, feeling the orgasm start to rise up from my swollen balls. “BREED YOUR BOY,” Justin moaned in response as I grabbed his hips again, thrusting my throbbing dick deep in him. With that, my thick cock swelled even more, pleasure ripping through my entire body and an animalistic scream escaping my mouth. Jets of cum shot from my cock and I looked down to see Justin writhing too in his own intense orgasm. It was always like this for us. “FUCK,” we both screamed over and over, bodies writhing. I collapsed forward, my hard cock still in Justin’s tight ass. I knew he liked the feel of me on top of him like this and heard him sigh in pleasure. We lay like that for several minutes as our powerful orgasms continued to subside, our rapid breathing starting to settle. “Right babe…I need to hit the shower,” I said, suddenly aware of the time – I couldn’t be late for work again. He tried to reply but no real words came out. I chuckled as I headed to the bathroom, pleased I could still fuck him into a sex coma. I turned on the shower and, as I waited for the water to heat up, I appreciated my reflection in the large mirror above the sink. I couldn’t deny I was pretty happy with what I saw. Pushing on for 35 and with a busy job that involved plenty of shift work I had to put in a lot of effort to stay in shape. A boyfriend 10 years younger than me certainly helped as motivation. I’d been hitting the gym 4 times a week for 15 years and I guess it showed. I liked how my slightly hairy pecs jutted out over my abs, still heaving from the exertion of the fuck. I liked the size of my arms – I couldn’t help pulling a double bicep flex and watching the symmetrical mounds of muscle bunch up tight. Impressive peaks for an amateur lifter. I liked my 8 pack abs and the “v” leading down to my thick, now soft, cock. And I fucking loved my quads – big and thick – just looking at them made me feel so strong. I quickly jumped in the shower, conscious that if I kept up this line of thought I’d be rock hard again and subsequently late for work. I let the warm water cascade over my worked-out body, totally relaxed from the amazing fuck session. Five minutes later, I was back in the bedroom, a towel wrapped around my waist. Justin had barely moved, other than to flip himself over so that he was now lying staring at the ceiling, his arms above his head. I couldn’t help letting out a deep moan as I took in the beauty lying in front of me. I loved his slim figure and smooth skin, still glistening with drops of sweat from his pounding. His cute boyish face was totally peaceful and a beautiful smile lightened his features as he opened his eyes to look at me. I ran a hand up his tight abs (Justin too kept himself in shape) and then tweaked his hot nipples causing him to shudder in response. “Don’t…” he moaned. “You’ll be late for work…”. A mischievous smile on his face. I knew he was right and headed over to the wardrobe to find my work clothes. “Erm…Dan?” Justin said a minute later, his hesitancy causing me to turn and take in the slight frown that had appeared on his face. “Yeah babe…what’s up?” I asked, pulling on my scrubs and walking over to sit next to him again. “I was just thinking…” Justin was never nervous. “Go on babe, spit it out,” I said kindly, stroking his short blond hair. “Well…could we…perhaps…try it the other way round next time?” he asked, immediately looking to the side to avoid my gaze. Ah. “Justin…we’ve talked about this. I just don’t think it would work babe,” I replied, full of love for him. “Why not Dan? You never tell me why…” he said, accusation in his voice. This conversation came up from time to time. At first, it had been natural that I’d be the one doing the fucking – Justin loved riding cock and I loved to give it. Recently though he’d been more questioning…why couldn’t we swap sometimes? It was getting more and more difficult to diffuse the situation… “It’s because of this isn’t it?” he questioned angrily, holding his cock in his hand. I was surprised at his directness and was too slow to deny the accusation. It didn’t help that there was truth in what he said – Justin was blessed with a cute face and fit body but his smaller-than-average cock had always been a sore point for him. I didn’t want the experience to be disappointing for either of us… “I knew it,” he barked, his normally beautiful features rearranged into a mask of anger and humiliation. “No Justin…it’s not that,” I replied, trying to placate him. It was not a total lie. There was something else contributing to my reluctance – I had to admit that I’d gotten used to being the “big spoon” in our relationship. It just worked for us. The idea of taking on a more submissive role would be hard to swallow and even harder to admit. “You’re lying,” he shouted, tears welling up in his eyes. “No babe…wait,” I pleaded as he jumped up and ran to the bathroom. I heard the lock click and knew it was too late to convince him otherwise.
    1 point
  12. So who is the hottest of the four, Roger, Ben, Tom or Roman?
    1 point
  13. Kein Problem @BigBigger. Deine Geschichte ist es Wert zu waren
    1 point
  14. I think this is the longest non english ongoing story on the site. I hope someday someone decides to give it a proper translation. It's great man. Keep the good work
    1 point
  15. Sorry für die wirklich lange Wartezeit! Zu Hause angekommen warfen wir unsere Schultaschen in die Ecke. Hausaufgaben? Ja klar… Meine Mom begrüßte uns und beherrschte sich aber gut, als sie die beiden Bodybuilder in ihrer Küche sah. „Ihr Kids heutzutage werdet auch immer größer.“ Jan wurde rot, ich grinste. „Dann haut mal rein. Ich hoffe, ihr habt Hunger.“ Da wir bereits schon jeder zwei Döner hatten, schafften wir nur etwa ¾ der Auflaufform an Lasagne. Meine Mutter war schon ein wenig verwundert, legte sich es dann aber selbst zurecht und meinte: „Ihr müsst wahrscheinlich auf euer Gewicht achten.“ Wir beide nickten syncron. Nachdem wir meiner Mom noch beim Aufräumen geholfen hatten verzogen wir uns auf mein Zimmer. Jan wirkte, da er nun nicht mehr abgelenkt war, wieder niedergeschlagen. Ich machte die Playstation an und wartete auf Anmeldung und Start des Spiels; bemerkte aber trotzdem die Depri-Stimmung im Raum. Etwas unsicher, wie ich das Thema angehen sollte, fragte ich: „Bedeutet dir Sven echt so viel?“ Es herrschte kurz Stille, dann nickte Jan und schüttelte kurz darauf den Kopf. „Nicht so… wie du denkst. Er war halt immer mein Freund und gerade da, als sich meine Eltern getrennt hatten.“ Es folgte ein massiges Zucken mit den Schultern. „Ich habe keine Vater, der mir hierbei hilft und ich habe einen meiner besten Freunde wohl verloren.“ Er deutete dann an seinem Körper herunter. „Für das hier….“ Ich schluckte schwer und wusste nicht wirklich, wie ich darauf antworten sollte. Ich hatte verständnisvolle Eltern; ich hatte nie richtig Freunde gehabt. Ich wollte einfach nur Muskeln. Aber Jan schien es echt zu belasten. „Hör zu. Wir spielen jetzt ein bisschen, das lenkt dich schon mal ab. Und mit Sven und deinem Dad wird sich wieder alles regeln. Ja, du wirst noch wachsen. Daran besteht kein Zweifel. Aber wir schaffen das gemeinsam.“ Jan versuchte tapfer zu wirken und nickte, aber er glaubte mir nicht wirklich. Wir setzten uns dann vor mein Bett auf den Boden und fingen an ein wenig Battlefield zu spielen. Nach einer ganzen Weile klopfte dann meine Mom und luckte durch die Tür: „Unten steht noch ein bisschen Cola für euch. Dein Vater und ich sind jetzt unterwegs…“, es folgte ein seltsames Grinsen und sie fügte hinzu: „…bleibt anständig.“ Wir schauten uns beide an, wurden rot – aber meine Mutter hatte die Tür schon wieder geschlossen. „Das heißt… deine Eltern sind jetzt weg.“ Ich grinste breit und nickte. „Aus diesem Grund, junger Mann… ausziehen. Wir vermessen dich jetzt.“ Während ich mein Maßband holte, schälte sich Jan aus den engen Klamotten. Er stand in Unterhose da, die aber auch schon spannte und ich zog eine Augenbraue hoch. „Ehrlich?!“, fragte ich und trotz allem streifte der Fußballer diese nur zögerlich ab. Bizeps, entspannt: 39,5 cm Brust, entspannt: 130,5 cm Taille: 82 cm Oberschenkel, entspannt: 75 cm (da merkt man den Fußballer) Waden: 50 cm Penis, hart: 21 cm Hoden: Eier-Größe Ich war, schon als ich nur den Bizeps gemessen hatte, mega hart und machte daraus keinen Hehl. „Gott… du bist echt gigantisch. Überall.“ Ich fuhr langsam über seine Brust und merkte, wie die zuvor noch glatte Haut mit ziemlich vielen Stoppel übersehen war. Ich fuhr sein Six-Pack entlang und konnte schon die nächsten zwei Reihen erahnen und erfühlen. Sein Penis war unfassbar hart und mit Venen überzogen. Er hatte sich hier komplett glatt rasiert, was ihn noch größer wirken ließ. Vorsichtig und um regelrechte Zustimmung bittend, sah ich ihn an und er nickte kurz. Dann nahm ich seinen Schwanz in den Mund und saugte, spielte mit meiner Zunge an seiner Eichel und begann langsam die Hoden zu massieren. Jan spannte seinen Bizeps an und verlor sich selbst in seinem eigenem Körper. Sein Hintern, sein Waschbrettbauch, seine sensiblen Nippel. Alles wurde angefasst und schon bald hörte ich den Fußballer nur noch stöhnen. Nach einer Ewigkeit stand ich dann wieder auf und Jan zog mir mein Shirt aus. Nun betastete er meinen Körper und fuhr meine Konturen nach. Dann kam der Kuss. Wir hatten uns schon vorher geküsst, aber das war anders. Es war fordernd, es war sanft. Es war ein Augenblick und doch irgendwie für immer. Jan übernahm nun die Führung und man merkte den Stürmer. Er positionierte mich auf dem Bett, legte mich um und zog mir die Hose aus. Mein eigener Schwanz spannte die Unterhose zum Bersten, während die Hände des Fußballers selbigen kraftvoll massierten. Er griff mit beiden Händen nach der Unterhose und schaffte es mit purer Muskelkraft diese zu zerreißen. Sein Bizeps spannte sich dabei weiter an, wirkte voluminöser, mit Adern übersäht. Er beugte sich über mich und während ich nach einem Kondom griff und es überstrich, küsste er sanft meine Nippel. Dann ließ er sich langsam auf mich herabsinken und Zentimeter um Zentimeter von meinem Penis verschwand. Wir hatten schon vorher einmal Sex. Aber könnt ihr euch vorstellen wie es ist, mit 150kg Muskelmasse von einem 110kg Bullen geritten zu werden. Das Bett quietschte, ich stöhnte und verlor sämtliches Gefühl für Zeit und Raum. Ich spürte, wie immer ein bisschen mehr Pre auf meine Bauchmuskeln tropfte und der Raum generell vom männlich herben Duft erfüllt wurde. Irgendwann wurden die Bewegungen von Jan langsamer und er beugte ich an mein Ohr, liebkoste es, biss hinein und flüstere: „Lass mich dich ficken. Ich bin irgendwann zu groß dafür.“ Ich nickte und hätte wohl auf alles genickt, was er gesagt hätte. Ich kniete mich also auf mein Bett und langsam drang Jan in mich ein. Es war am Anfang sehr schmerzhaft. Sehr, sehr schmerzhaft, wenn man direkt mit einem 21 cm Brecher anfängt. Zentimeter um Zentimeter drang er in mich ein und mit jedem weiteren Stück wurde es geiler. Schmerz wurde zu Euphorie und als ich seine Hüfte an meinem Hinter spürte brüllte ich zufrieden. Dann nahm der Stürmer Fahrt auf. Langsam und immer schneller werdend nahm er mich und ich konnte nichts anderes als stöhnen, schreien und meine Hände in die Kissen und Decken krallen. Ich kam währenddessen schon bereits zwei Mal, aber es störte mich nicht. Das Gesamte hier war ein Erlebnis. Jan hatte eine unglaubliche Kondition, dennoch musste auch er irgendwann kommen und das war…. Gigantisch. Erst als ich das Auto in die Garage fuhren hörte, lösten wir uns aus unserer Umarmung auf meinem Bett. Wir hatten die ganze Zeit einfach geredet und auch wenn hier knapp 300kg an Muskelfleisch, Samensträngen und Schwanz auf dem Bett lag, war nach diesem Sex das beinahe sekundär. Ja, wir fuhren über unsere Körper, aber wir sprachen auch darüber, wie es für unsere Bodybuilder-Körper weiter gehen sollte. Angezogen waren wir vergleichsweise schnell, rissen die Fenster auf und als meine Mutter an die Tür klopfte, wurde das pausierte Spiel einfach fortgesetzt. Jan verabschiedete sich dann und wir wollten uns am Sonntag auf jeden fall treffen. Sonntag. Ich bekam eine kurze Nachricht, dass es heute nicht klappen würde. Ich zögerte kurz und überlegte, ob etwas mit seinem Dad war. Aber vielleicht hatte er auch einfach keine Zeit. Montag. Jan war nicht in der Schule. Ok… ich war alarmiert. Ich schrieb ihm, ob alles in Ordnung sei, bekam aber keine Nachricht. Dienstag. Jan war immer noch nicht da. Fuck. Ich traute mich also und ging zu Sven und wollte wissen, ob er etwas von ihm gehört hatte. „Ist wahrscheinlich geplatzt. Das gleiche, was dir passieren wird, Doris.“ Danke… Arschloch. Mittwoch. Ich entschied mich vor der Schule bei ihm vorbei zu schauen. Ja, ich hätte schon früher gehen sollen, aber vielleicht war Jan tatsächlich depri drauf und wollte Zeit für sich? Ich war so schrecklich unsicher. Ich klingelte also und stellte mich schon auf eine Konfrontation mit dem Vater des Jahres ein, jedoch blieb das Haus ruhig bzw. die Tür unbeantwortet. Ich schaute kurz im Vorgarten rein und konnte nirgends ein Auto sehen. Waren sie weg? Ich ging um das Haus herum und betrat den Garten, dann die Veranda. Die Balkontür zum Garten hin war offen. Ich lukte hinein und war schockiert, was ich dort sah… Jan saß auf der Couch, stopfte irgendwelches Essen in sich hinein, war splitternackt und holte sich gerade einen runter. Er kam nun fast in meine Gewichtsklasse und nach einem kurzen Kopfrechnen-Exkurs musste er wohl bei 130-135kg sein. Sein Schwanz war von 21 auf 25 cm angewachsen. „Fuck!“, meinte ich und erntete so die Aufmerksam von Jan.
    1 point
  16. Damn, those Airforce uniforms are impressive. Super stretchy, he must have gone up at least three sizes. Loving the work you do.
    1 point
  17. Part 9 Amos had been researching since the night he first encountered Dante. He loved seeing the muscle titan grow bigger and more powerful each time. Since Dante had tapped into his powers a lot more, he’d since found a way to keep the energies he drained for his own, rather than that energy transferred to Kalfu. But Amos knew the demigod would be wise to his lack of energy soon. And he had to act fast if he were to prepare Dante for what was to come. Since Dante’s new management of the gym had taken off, dozens of new members had joined in that time. This partly due to Amos setting up social media accounts for the gym and making a few much needed updates for the society. Being stuck within the gym for the last few decades had given the former Mr. Olympia some perspective. He had been worshipped during his glory days, but now technology had made it so much easier. Two weeks ago, while scrolling through Instagram, he noticed several muscular men who weren’t even professional bodybuilders. However, it was quite clear they were juicing and pumping their bodies up to extreme levels. One lived as far as England and worked as a stripper, while one 300lb. beast doubled as a massage therapist and gigolo. The commonality between these pages were links to what was called an “Only Fans” page. Amos found out that hundreds of people would subscribe to these pages, and after paying a monthly fee, would be able to browse pictures and videos of these muscle men that they normally wouldn’t see on more docile social media pages. This gave Amos the idea to make a Only Fans page for Dante. With Dante constantly growing and people seeing his workouts on Instagram, it only made sense that his more devoted followers wanted something “extra”. The Only Fans page was full of content. There were pics of Dante in his size progression, videos of him lifting heavy weights in the nude, the occasion video of Dante jacking himself off in the sauna, Dante flexing, one of Dante sucking himself off, and of course a phone cam video of Dante fucking Amos from Dante’s perspective. Amos liked that one the most. He would often replay it throughout the day. Hearing himself moan from the creole behemoth’s large cock widening him even further. At this point, Amos would never again find satisfaction in sex with another man. He even tried having two of the other acolytes double penetrate him, but even with the both of them combined, Dante’s obelisk still reigned supreme, and Amos only felt half full… Amos finished uploading the content and took the iPad out of the office to Dante, who he saw had just finished growing. “It’s ready sir”. “What’s this?”, Dante bellowed, his massive chest and nipples heaving over his turtle shell abs. “It’s something I’ve been working on for the gym sir. It’ll help get you more follwers, and bring in more money.” “I trust you, Amos. Start it up. I need to shower, and then I’m gonna loosen that sweet ass of yours up even more.” Dante waddled off to the shower, his muscles literally rolling over one another. Amos could swear he had grown a lot taller also, like he had to be at least 6’6”. The acolytes grabbed towels and immediate followed their gym god into the mens locker room. Amos hit the “Launch” button on the site. The Creole Colossus Only Fans (Amos couldn’t think of a better name at the moment) page was officially up and running with a link connected to the Instagram page. -- Marcus had just finished his gym workout. The Iron Fitness gym in Brixton, London really was the most hardcore gym in the area. Suddenly his phone alerted him that the Prime Fitness Instagram had some updates. He loved that gym, especially the larger-than-life new gym owner. He had been planning to make the trip to the States for some time, just for the sole purpose of going in there to lift. He had pushed his body to 240 naturally with hard work and diet, but now he was cycling steroids to push past his limits. It was all he could do to pay for the stuff, since being a stripper only made so much money. Marcus would love to know what kind of juice THAT guy was taking. He noticed the link to an Only Fans page in the Instagram account. Marcus eagerly clicked the link and was brought to the “Creole Colossus” Only Fans page. That’s an interesting name. The account was asking for $19.95 each month. Marcus thought that was easily one of his lady fan’s tip. He could spare that much. Plus, it was only about 14 pounds in British currency. He agreed to pay the fee, clicked NEXT and was brought to a weird page. In the top center, it had a picture of Dante in a most muscular pose, each saturated with power. However, there was some weird text under the picture. It read: Welcome to the ONLY FANS page of Dante LeBeaux, the Creole Colossus. Dante is a muscle titan; one who aspires to true godhood; one who requires your service and devotion. Pledge 5% of your muscle to him today, and enter to worship. There was an electronic signature box underneath. ‘What the hell’, thought Marcus. ‘It was probably a part of the act. After all, someone that big would probably have a daddy complex.’ Marcus typed his full name in the electronic signature box and hit SUBMIT. Immediately, he felt a little weaker, his muscles didn’t look quite as full, he didn’t feel quite as strong. But his phone lit up with content from the page. He clicked on the muscle orgy first. All of that muscle just dominating those smaller guys, and one of those guys were bigger than him…he clicked on the next video, a masturbation video where four muscle heads were attending to the muscles of the larger man. Slowly, Marcus’ hands found their way to his dick, and began stroking. Had Marcus not been in so much bliss and awe, he may have noticed that he now weighed 228lbs. Marcus continued stroking in the locker room sauna, and then he heard the recorded Dante speak to him… “Keep stroking boy. Don’t cum until daddy does.” “Yes sir,” Marcus moaned out loud. Just as he thought he was about to blow, he found his balls relaxed, ready for the continued assault as Marcus kept stroking. He was in the steam room of the gym and could be heard by all those passing by. But he didn’t care. He compelled to obey the muscle god on the small phone screen leaning against the wall. After about 20 minutes, the video behemoth finally erupted. Torrents of cum splattered over the gigantic torso. And as if on cue, Marcus, himself, came in the sauna. His back arching as cum splattered on his chest and slowly dribbled down his abs. “Lick it off boy. Taste and savor what daddy made you do.” There was a pause from the video, no doubt meant to give its viewer time to comply with the demand. After a short while it spoke again to Marcus, who by now was savoring his own seed. “Keep pumping those muscles, and maybe one day you should come give me a workout here at Prime Fitness.” Marcus felt energized, like the last grueling workout was nothing. He went back into the gym, and continued to work-out for another hour and a half. After finally getting home, he began to pack his things. He needed to work out with his master… -- As Dante was being washed by his four acolytes, he began to feel full, like he’d just eaten a really big lunch. None of the acolytes had fed him in a while, but he felt his muscles pumping larger. He thought about the day. ‘Was this residual growth left over from that shake?’ Amos walked into the shower stall, and looked at his master. Dante locked eyes with Amos, and knew then that whatever Amos had done had caused the growth. Suddenly, Dante doubled over with pain. His acolytes looked worried…they’d never seen their master with pain before. Suddenly the pain turned to pleasure as Dante began to hulk out even more…his back widening to fill even the wider handicap shower stall; his bones creaking, thickening, and expanding to accommodate even more mass to his already growing frame. His traps now soundly touched his ear lobes, supported by shoulders that could tackle and tip a Hummer; biceps, triceps, and forearms all growing in unison of each other; his chest thickening and growing hairier as his nipples were now swallowed by the overlap and thick as Hershey kisses; his muscle belly rounded and supported by bulging thighs and the shelf-like ass protruding from his back; his legs packing on muscle muscle and size, but not to touch each other, as the swinging elephant trunk planted in between them fought for space and domination. At 22 inches, his veiny muscle cock was truly a sight to behold. Dante could feel the energies flowing through him, growing him, changing him. London, Seattle, New York, Orlando, Japan, Australia, Los Angeles…all of these people giving their muscle to him, growing him, worshipping him. Amos and the other acolytes backed away as Dante continued to swell in height, power, and size. Suddenly, they heard a huge bang. Amos looked out into the gym area. The entrance doors had been kicked in, and a near 500lb. Kalfu entered fuming and rage filled. “Come out my little Avatar! I need to take back what’s mine and teach you a lesson in who’s the demigod, and who’s the runt.” Amos looked back at Dante who finally stood, his head almost near the ceiling; he had to weigh more than 900lbs.; more than enough to squash the large demigod in the lobby. Amos looked on as Dante’s eyes turned a deep white, and his licked his lips as if he were about to eat a tasty meal… “Be out in a second, Mr. K”, Dante smirked, and stomped towards the locker room entrance, rumbling the very foundations of the building with each step he took…
    1 point
  18. Part 2 I didn’t see Justin much in the next few weeks – with both of us doing shift work this happened from time to time. When we did see each other, I couldn’t help but feel that there was an elephant in the room that neither of us acknowledged. I knew it would have to be me that brought up the subject again but, cowardly, I just couldn’t do it. The truth was I had no idea what to say. Finally, driving home from a long shift one day, I decided enough was enough. I was going to have to tell him about my insecurities “Justin,” I called as I came through the front door. “We need to talk”. “Just a minute…” I heard him shout from upstairs. “I’ll be down in a sec…” I didn’t want to wait, scared I’d lose my nerve, so bounded up the stairs two at a time and burst into our bedroom. I gasped in horror, taking in the sight in front of me. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” I roared. Justin was stark naked in front of the mirror, a syringe of blue, viscous liquid in his hand, looking at me in terror. “Justin…don’t…” I begged. But it was too late. Before I couldn’t even get close he’d flipped the cover off and plunged the needle into his ass cheek, injecting the strange-looking fluid in one go. “Oh FUCK Justin,” I moaned in dismay. “What the HELL was that?” “J-just a supplement,” he stammered, nervous. I spotted the packaging on our bed, snatching it up before Justin had a chance to grab it. “No…please…don’t look,” he whimpered, his eyes pleading. I looked down at the product information leaflet in horror. -------------------------MIRACLE GROWTH------------------------ “The ONLY penis-enlargement supplement worth taking” Other than this attention-grabbing slogan, there was barely any information in the leaflet at all – it was just filled with wishy-washy testimonies from ‘satisfied customers’. Certainly, there was nothing that even got close to telling you what was in the damn thing. “This could contain ANYTHING” I bellowed, apoplectic with rage. “HOW COULD YOU?” “I had to,” he replied, trying to stand his ground whilst his face betrayed him, flushing with embarrassment. “Do you really care THAT much,” I responded, still shouting. “YOU MADE ME CARE,” he cried, starting to cry. I was about to shout some more when a spasm crossed his face and I halted in my tracks. “What is it babe?” I asked, all anger suddenly leaving me. “I-I-I feel s-strange,” he moaned. My heart dropped 40 feet. I knew it. This was bad. “Strange how Justin?” I asked, doctor-mode taking over. “Come on, lie down on the bed”. Justin did as he was told, lying back on the bed, a strange expression on his face. “Tell me what’s going on babe…this is killing me,” I pleaded, kneeling next to the bed and stroking his hair in desperation. “No Dan…it feels…good,” he moaned, letting out all his breath in one go. I still couldn’t relax. “What do you mean, ‘good’?” I questioned. “I dunno…I just feel…good,” he repeated infuriatingly. I watched in amazement as he started rubbing his hands over his body, his eyes tight shut, a look of pure ecstasy on his face. He let out a deep moan as he played with his hot nipples. I felt my cock start to grow in my pants despite myself. Justin’s cock was starting to get hard too. He ran one hand down his abs to squeeze it, his fingers pulled tight around his growing member. Within seconds his cock was fully hard, around 3 inches. “Fuuuck,” he moaned, deeply. “What is it babe?” I asked, nearly hysterical. He moaned in response, starting to stroke his rock-hard cock, two fingers wrapped around its small girth. I noticed how even using just a few fingers, you could barely see his small cock head over the top. “My cock…” he groaned. “What about it Justin?” “It feels…amazing…” he moaned, now stroking faster and faster. I watched as his whole body started to writhe in pleasure, moans escaping his mouth with every breath. He jerked his tiny cock like there was no tomorrow. “Oh FUCK,” he gasped suddenly. I nearly asked what was wrong but stopped myself, realising that there was nothing wrong at all. Justin was experiencing more pleasure than I thought was possible and the cause was blindingly obvious. I could barely speak as I noticed that Justin’s previously tiny cock was starting to swell before my eyes, its bulging head now an inch clear of his stroking fingers. It looked thicker too, starting to pull apart his fingers so that he had to readjust his hand. My own cock was now painfully hard in my tight boxers and I reached down subconsciously to pull it out, starting to stroke as I watched. Suddenly, Justin’s eyes sprang open and he looked down at his rapidly enlarging member. “FUCK YES,” he moaned deeply. “I’m growing”. His eyes shut again as he continued to stroke himself. His cock looked nearly 5 inches long now and was showing no signs of stopping its continuous growth. A thick stream of precum was leaking from his swollen cock head, running over his fingers. “It’s going to be fucking MASSIVE,” he roared, making me jump. I could tell he was right and I couldn’t help jerking my own cock hard and fast as I watched. This was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. Justin was now using his whole hand to jerk his cock – something he could never have done before – and still it continued to lengthen. An inch beyond his fingers. Now two. When the fuck would it stop? Justin’s moans were getting deeper, more erotic. I would cum soon just watching him. His balls too had swollen in size, two globes nestled between his legs, full of hot twink cum. His massive cock was thickening, stretching apart his fingers so that he struggled to wrap them all the way round. I guessed it was about 7 inches long now. We both had the same thought at the same time. “FUCK. I’m going to be bigger than you,” he moaned, letting out a slight laugh. I almost thought he’d forgotten I was there. I looked down at my own not unimpressive cock and realised he was right. In that moment I didn’t care. “OH FUCK THIS FEELS AMAZING,” he roared, his voice deeper and more masculine than ever before. He reached down, rubbing his fingers over his bulbous cock head as he continued to stroke with his other hand. I watched as he then brought his fingers, glistening with thick precum, up to his mouth. He sucked on them, moaning deeply. “Mmmm I taste good.” My mouth watered as he reached down for another taste. “Suck me,” he ordered, as if reading my mind. I didn’t hesitate. His hand was immediately replaced by my hungry tongue and lips. I licked up and down his still-growing, veiny shaft before wrapping my lips around his swollen cock head. We both moaned together. Fuck he did taste good. Within seconds I was bobbing up and down on his dick, taking as much as I could but feeling it hit the back of my throat. I cradled his distended balls in my hands, amazed at their weight and size. His cock had to be bigger than 8 inches now. Bigger and thicker than my own. Still, I kept sucking, his moans feeding my own throbbing boner. “FUCK,” he roared. “You’re a good COCKSUCKER”. I bristled slightly at his words but there was no way I was going to stop worshiping his Godly cock. Justin started thrusting his hips up and down, forcing his mammoth cock into my mouth over and over, now holding the back of my head. In a frenzy of bliss, I marvelled at how my twink boyfriend was now fucking my face with his enormous man meat. He was letting out deep, animalistic grunts with every thrust. Noises I’d never heard him make before. My throat was getting sore, abused by his immense tool. Gallons of pre were still oozing from his throbbing cock head, the taste making me dizzy with pleasure. I felt as his thickening cock started to stretch my lips…I could barely take half of it in my mouth now. I pulled off his cock, looking down to take in his full size. He was now over 10 inches and fuck he was THICK. I wrapped both hands around his cock, stroking hard and fast, hearing him moan in response. “I’m MASSIVE,” he bellowed looking down at me, his cock looking obscene next to his twink body. I could tell he was close and started to jerk him faster. I couldn’t wrap my fingers all the way around it anymore. I licked his cock head as I stroked, drinking down his delicious pre. His moans were getting closer together. Deeper. More like grunts. His hands explored his body. Twisting his hot nips. Running over his abs. Constantly moving. “FUCK!!” he roared. “I’m going to cum…” “YES babe…Cum for me,” I moaned, hungry for his load. He started thrusting his hips again and within seconds I saw his balls tighten. “YEEESSSSSSSSSSSS” he roared, grabbing the back of my head and forcing me down onto his cock. I felt it swell in my mouth even more before thick, hot streams of cum hit the back of my throat. I tried to swallow it all but it was no use. Justin was still screaming in ecstasy as rivers of cum poured from my mouth, escaping down his veiny shaft. And still it kept flowing. And flowing. I drank down as much as I could but the bed was soon soaked with his man juice. Eventually, after an eternity it seemed, the cum stopped and I pulled my mouth off his enormous cock. I looked down to realise that I’d cum without even noticing, my own tiny load paling into insignificance in comparison to Justins. “Clean up the rest,” he ordered, without opening his eyes. His voice was deep. I nearly refused but then I realised – I wanted to. I leaned down licking up the cum from his shaft, his abs, his balls – savouring it all. I moved on to the bed, licking up as much as I could from the soaked bedding. “Good boy,” he whispered, a deep rumbling. Boy? He’d never called me boy before.
    1 point
  19. 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?”
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  20. I absolutely love all your stories. Thank you.
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  21. Die neue Woche startete vorbereitet. Wir wussten, dass Ende der Woche Jan über Hundert Kilo wiegen würde – unbeachtet von allen in seinem Umfeld. Was mich an diesem Punkt auch ein wenig wunderte. Ich war der Einzige, der sich an all das erinnern konnte und den „Vorher-Nachher“ Vergleich hatte und ziehen konnte. Wahrscheinlich, weil die Mail von mir kam und ich selbst das alles genutzt hatte. Aber zurück zu unseren Vorbereitungen. Wir wussten nicht ganz, wie sich die zuästzlichen 40 Kilo verteilen würden und deshalb hatte ich noch am Sonntag ein paar meiner Klamotten zu ihm rüber gebracht. Dann würde es nicht ganz so auffallen. Aber wir wussten auch sicher, dass wir bald neue Kaufen mussten. Ich hatte nur bis 3XL bei mir zu Hause. Jan würde das spätestens in der nächsten Woche tragen und in Woche drei zerreissen. Ohne Anspannung. Wir spekulierten darauf, dass sein Dad vielleicht was locker machen würde – wobei das auch das größte Problem von allen war. So wie der gute Papa auf mich reagiert hatte konnten wir nur schwer abschätzen, was er zu seinem Sohn sagen würde, der mich um knackige 70kg übertreffen würde. Montag Laut unseren Rechnungen war es so, dass Jan pro Tag durchschnittlich 5,5kg zunehmen würde. Ungeachtete der Tatsache, was er zusätzlich essen würde und wenn er noch trainiert. Ja... Jan hatte tatsächlich vor so lange zum Fußballtraining zu gehen, bis er nicht mehr mit kam. Schnelligkeit war ein Ding der Vergangenheit. Aber er bekundete schon Interesse an Football.... In der Schule am ersten Tag sah man nicht viel. Er hatte jetzt seit Sonntag insgesamt 11kg zugelegt. Das Shirt saß um die Brust etwas definierter, der Biceps füllte den Ärmel etwas besser auf. Alles nichts dramatisches. Dienstag Sport Tag! Nach unserem kleinem Intermezzo der letzten Woche sah ich nun Herrn Becker wieder. Er wirkte in seiner ganzen Erscheinung autoritärer und uns gegenüber reservierter. Jan war jetzt mit 75kg in einer Liga, wo man schon von einem light-weight-junior-Bodybuilder sprechen konnte. Das 6pack war höchst definiert und man konnte sogar schon die letzte Reihe sehen und der Weg zum 8pack war deutlich zu erkennen. Die Taille war schlank, die Brust schon deutlich massiger, breitere Schultern und die Fußballer-Beine waren größer denn je. Aber all das erregte in der Kabine kein großen Aufsehen. 75Kg... ich bitte euch. Ich war mit meinen 150kg immer noch eine Augenweide. Aber.... Jan gewann recht viel Aufmerksamkeit durch seine Beule in der Hose. Gestartet mit schlaffen 10cm konnte er jetzt schon knapp 13cm vorweisen. Zusammen mit größerem Umfang und größeren Eiern. Und so wie Jan grinste, gefiel es ihm. Sport an sich war unspektakulär und nur das Duschen wurde durch ein paar Sprüche interessant und den ein oder anderen, der seinen Harten verstecken musste, als Jan und ich zusammen mit schwingedem Gehänge in die Kabinen kamen. Donnerstag Ich bekam relativ früh eine Whatsapp von Jan in der er um ein Gespräch vor der Schule bat. Sein Dad.... Als Jan auf mich zukam musste ich schon schlucken. Ja, ich sah in jeden Tag, aber als dieses 100kg Fußballer-Muskelpaket auf mich zukam, wurde mir ganz anders. Ich wurde augenblicklich hart, konnte es aber ganz gut verstecken, da ich auch merkte, dass Jan niedergeschlagen wirkte. Das Shirt, das er anhatte, war bereits eines von meinen und wirkte (noch) recht gut passend. Die Hose machte keinen Hehl daraus, dass sie nach diesem Tag in die Tonne konnte. Die Oberschenkel versuchten alles um den Stoff zu sprengen und die Beule in seiner Hose war so prominent, dass ich mich fragte, ob das nicht weh tat. Als mein „Kleiner“ dann bei mir stand erzählte er mir sofort, dass sein Dad heute morgen schon einen Ausraster bekommen hatte. Er beschuldigte ihn Steroide zu nehmen, Drogen und was weiß ich nicht noch alles. Er hatte wütend sein Zimmer durchsucht und ihm eine sehr lange Standpauke gehalten, dass solche Muskel-Freaks sich ihr Leben nur kaputt machen und noch andere, erfundenen und fadenscheinige Gründe. Wir unterhielten uns noch eine ganze Weile vor der Schule und verblieben dann so, dass er Freitag nach der Schule mit zu mir kommt und zumindest Freitag auf Samstag bei mir übernachtet. Dann konnte er mal auf andere Gedanken kommen. Meine Eltern hatten nichts dagegen und ich hoffte, dass ich sie noch aus dem Haus bekam. Ich brauchte Sex.... Freitag Ich bekam erneut eine Whatsapp mit einem einzigen Inhalt: „110kg.“ Jan hatte sogar 3kg mehr zugenommen als berechnet. Aber er hatte auch Training die Woche, am Sonntag ein Spiel und Alter... er war fast nur noch am Essen. In der Schule lief soweit alles gut und auch der väterliche Zwischenfall von gestern war vergessen. Meine Eltern freuten sich, dass sie einen Schulkameraden von mir kennenlernten. (Früher hatte ich nie jemanden mit nach Hause gebracht und daran konnte sich meine Mutter wohl noch erinnern.) Ich meinte, dass wir ein bisschen Playstation spielen wollten und mit anderen Joysticks... Ich wartete nach der 7. Stunde an der Treppe auf Jan und konnte nur in der Entfernung seine Stimme hören, die relativ laut und ungehalten war. Die Neugier siegte und ich ging dem nach. Versteckt (sofern das für 150kg Muskeln möglich war) belauschte ich ein Gespräch zwischen ihm und Sven. „Alter. Du platz noch bald. Mach mal ein bisschen langsam. Oder willst du so ein Freak werden wie Dori?“ „Sein Name ist David und was kümmert es dich?“ „Ergreifst du jetzt etwas Partei für das Steroid-Monster?“ „SVEN! Sei nicht so ein kompletter Arsch. Ok? Es gibt halt Leute, die stehen auf Muskeln.“ „Ja... die lecken auch Schwänze.“ „...“ „Alter... Sag jetzt bitte nicht, dass du den Schwanz von dem im Mund hattest.“ „Fick dich, Sven. Ich dachte echt, wir wären Freunde.“ „Das waren wir, bevor du wie ein Hefekloß aufgegangen bist und dich entschieden hast 'ne Schwuchtel zu werden.“ Dann hörte ich nur, wie jemand auf den Boden fiel. „JAN! Was fällt dir ein! Spinnst du!“ „Halt dich einfach von mir fern, Arschloch.“ Dann stampfte Jan wütend weg und ich versuchte schnell wieder auf meine ursprüngliche Position zu kommen. Als Jan kam und das Gesicht hass-verzerrt war, wollte ich schon ansetzten etwas zu sagen, aber der Fußballer meinte nur: „Du hast doch alles gesehen. Was hättest du getan?“ - „Ich... ehm... also... ich....“ Jan rollte mit den Augen und meinte: „Alter.... du bist ein fucking Bodybuilder. Denkst du echt, so ein Gebüsch kann dich verstecken. Sei froh, dass Sven mit dem Rücken zu dir war.“ Ich holte tief Luft und wechselte sofort das Thema. „Wollen wir uns einen Döner holen?“ Jan nickte nur und wir liefen schweigend in die Innenstadt. Es wurden zwei Döner für jeden und als wir auf den bedrohlich knackenden Plastikstühlen saßen seufzte Jan deutlich und fragte: „Wie war das bei dir? Waren deine Eltern auch so kacke und dein bester Freund ein Arsch?“ Ich lächelte und meinte: „Meine Eltern fanden es auch nicht so gut. Aber... du hast einen guten Freund an deiner Seite. Sven wird sich wieder beruhigen. Und im Notfall schicke ich ihm auch den Link.“ Ich zwinkerte und auch Jan konnte leicht lächeln. Wir gingen dann nach Hause und bereiteten uns auf einen Spiele-Nachmittag vor....
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  22. Ein kleines Update - für alle Zahlenfreaks unter euch! Mehr folgt hoffentlich bald! Eine halbe Stunde später – so schnell ich mich anziehen konnte und meine muskulösen Beine durch die Stadt getragen hatten – stand ich vor der Tür von Jans Haus. Nachdem ich geklingelt hatte machte mir Jans Vater auf. Ein älterer Herr, Anfang 50, adrett gekleidet, silbernes Haar, schlank und mit einem absolut abwertenden Gesichtsausdruck, als er mich sah. Seine Augen glitten an meiner muskulösen Erscheinung herunter und prüften ganz genau. Mein Top (ein Tanktop) wurde durch meine Brustmuskeln stark in Anspruch genommen, war aber Strech genug, als das man weder Nippel noch sonst was sah. Meine Bauchmuskeln zeichneten sich dank des Elasthans auch super ab. Meine Jogginghose tat ihr bestes um meinen zusammengenkeulten Penis zu verbergen, der jedoch durch meine Oberschenkel nach vorne gedrückt wurde und trotz schwarzem Stoff gerade zu prominent auffiel. „Ja?“, wurde ich kühl begrüsst. Ich versuchte zu lächeln und das Beste aus der Situation zu machen – verstand aber langsam Jan, warum er so viel Angst davor hatte unkontrolliert in die Breite zu gehen. „Hallo Herr Sundermeier. Mein Name ist David und ich bin ein Freund von Jan. Er hat für mich ein Arbeitsblatt für Mathe.“, log ich so schnell wir möglich und so freundlich wie möglich. „Mathe? Aha. Ich dachte ihr Bodybuilder müsst nur bis maximal 10 zählen können.“ WOW.... ok... der Vater war ein Arsch. Ich wusste tatsächlich nicht, was ich darauf antworten sollte. „Soll ich die Garage aufmachen, oder passt du durch die Haustür?“, fragte er dann, als er mir Platz machte. Soviel Verachtung für meinen Körper und meine Erscheinung hatte ich auch noch nicht erlebt. Ich war still, nickte nur mit verhärteter Miene und trat dann in das Haus ein. Wirklich einen Blick für die Inneneinrichtung hatte ich nicht, folgte nur den Anweisungen des Iditiones zu Jans Zimmer. Dort angekommen klopfte ich und nach kurzem Zögern ertönten Jans Stimme. „Ja?“. Ich trat ein und sogleich wurde der Ausdruck von Jan verwundert, dann wütend, dann jedoch dankbar. Alles im Augenblick einer Sekunde. Der Fussballer saß mit nacktem Oberkörper und nur Boxershorts auf der Bettkante und hatte wohl geheult. Die Augen war doch sehr rot. Nachvollziehbar, nachdem ich seinen Erzeuger kennengelernt hatte. Jan lächelte jedoch nach einem Moment und wollte dann wissen: „Na... Das dich mein Dad reingelassen ist auch ein Wunder...“ Ich konnte nur mit den Augen rollen. „Ich verstehe nun voll und ganz deine Sorge...“ Etwas unschlüssig was ich jetzt eigentlich hier sollte, versuchte ich einfach drauf los zu reden. „Ehm... also... es tut mir echt Leid, dass ich...“ Er winkte jedoch sofort ab und zuckte mit den Schultern: „Du hast die Werte nicht eingegeben und auf OK gedrückt. Ich hätte dir... einfach glauben sollen. Auch wenn du zugeben musst, dass das echt mega unrealistisch ist.“ Sogleich wurden die Augen wieder etwas feucht. „Es ist halt... mit meinem Dad.. einfach scheiße.... er...“, er schniefte und bevor er weiter reden konnte fiel ich ihm ins Wort: „Er wird sich an nichts erinnern.“ Nachdem ich die Aufmerksamkeit von Jan hatte, erklärte ich ihm, was mir alles passiert war. Das meine Eltern für meine Eltern es immer so war. Es schien ihn sichtlich zu beruhigen. „Vielleicht ändert sich ja die Einstellung von ihm.“, hoffte er schliesslich und fragte: „Kannst... du mir helfen? Ich werde... neue Kleidung brauchen. Viele „X“...“ Dann packte mich aber doch die Neugier. „Was... hast du denn alles für Werte eingegeben?“, wollte ich wissen und sah Jan an, als er zum Rechner ging und einen Screenshot aufmachte. Ich ging zu ihm und schaute mir die Eingaben an. Mit jeder Zeile wurden meine Augen größer. „Scheiße... Alter... wie geil warst du an dem Abend?“, versuchte ich lachend zu fragen – aber ich machte mir doch ein bisschen Sorgen. Tatsächlich verbrachten wir dann ein wenig Zeit mit Mathe. Jan wog zur Zeit 64 Klio. Das Ziel waren 220 Kilo. Der Zeitraum 4 Wochen (maximal Express....) Er würde also pro Woche 39 kg zunehmen. Fuck. Pro Tag war das also ein Zuwachs von 5,5kg.... Bei seinem Schwanz hatte er mehr als übertrieben. Zur Zeit hatte er folgende Werte: Schlaff 10 cm, Umfang 8cm Hart: 16 cm, Umfang 11cm Ziel: Schlaff 35cm, Umfang 25 cm Hart: 45 cm, Umfang 30 cm Das bedeutete pro Woche ca. 6,5 cm Zuwachs... Warum sollten wir ihm überhaupt noch Klamotten kaufen... Bis wir die hatten, waren sie zu klein.... Wir mussten uns tatsächlich dafür etwas überlegen. Es standen uns große Zeiten bevor.....
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  23. OK here's the first half of chapter 19. I still need to do some work on the rest but I wanted to get more of the story posted and it's quite a big chapter so hopefully you guys won't feel too cheated! Nineteen I couldn’t stop staring at AJ’s Facebook messages. “I’m OK. Sorry I just left.” “I just had to get out of there.” “It was because of you.” “Because of you and that guy.” It felt like my heart was about to burst. There it was. Undeniable proof that no matter how crazy and unlikely they seemed, both mine and Naomi’s suspicions were right. There was something going on between me and AJ. Exactly what that was, I still didn’t know. But I knew this; that AJ had seen me kissing Eddie and it had had such a strong effect on him and had bothered him that much that he’d gotten upset and angry and left the bar without saying a word to anyone. I lay awake in bed for hours after reading the messages. My head just wouldn’t stop spinning. I kept going over everything that had happened since I’d bumped into AJ that afternoon in Tesco. Looking for signs that he had feelings for me. I thought about our very first personal training session. How it looked like he’d made an extra special effort in his appearance. How he’d looked disappointed when our session had come to an end. How he’d seemed to backtrack when he’d told me that booking another session would be a waste of time. How he’d likened Mark Green to being the “bodybuilder version” of me, and how I’d thought that it was odd that he’d put that much thought into what I was like. I thought about the first time he’d taken me to Scorpio’s. How he’d looked uncharacteristically nervous when he’d opened his front door to me. I thought about our Facebook messages. How he’d asked me if I’d be his groupie that one time and teased me about taking off his lime green posing trunks and throwing them into the audience at me. How he’d said he’d hold my hand during my first bodybuilding competition the night I was sat up messaging him in Eddie’s bathroom. I thought about the Scorpio’s Gym hoodie he’d gifted me. How he’d said he’d managed to obtain it because he knew the owners of the gym, but then slipped up In the bar and told Naomi and I he’d actually bought it for me. I thought about what his friend, Nathan, said to me about it not being his birthday, even though that was the reason AJ said he’d be in town. I thought about how he’d hugged and kissed everyone in the bar apart from me. Because wouldn’t that mean too much to him? And I thought about how, when his leg had touched mine that night at his while sitting on his bed, he hadn’t moved it. That amazing moment when I felt like I was dying. When the seconds felt more like minutes. I finally managed to switch off my thoughts and drift off to sleep, but when I woke up later that morning, the euphoria I was feeling at AJ’s confessional Facebook messages and just what they meant was tarred by something else; the thought of exactly how I was supposed to respond. And then something else came into my head which filled me with dread; the thought that maybe AJ had regretted sending those very messages. A dozen potential replies to his messages went through my head. “Are you OK?” “Do you want to talk?” “You know you can tell me anything.” But they all sounded so dramatic. Before his drunken confessions earlier that morning, mine and AJ’s messages had never been even remotely serious. And so I played it safe. “How’s the head?” I messaged him, my stomach twisting in nerves as I sent it. But nothing came back. He was probably still asleep, I reasoned. But when hours passed with no reply, I started to feel sick with worry. I feared the thing I had dreaded was true. That AJ regretted his messages. Regretted the whole night, in fact. What if he didn’t want to have feelings for me? What if he found it easier to just suppress or ignore them? And what better way to ignore them, than to ignore me? And then the biggest fear yet came to me. That because of the night before, and AJ’s confessions, whatever we had was now over. That AJ didn’t want to be friends anymore. That he no longer wanted to hang out with, take me to Scorpio’s or send me cute, funny messages. Maybe it was just easier for AJ to forget about me? Just pretend that the past month had never happened? I wondered whether we could just carry on as normal. Pretend like the night before never happened. Just carry on being friends as if AJ had never sent me those messages. But was that what I really wanted? I wasn’t so sure. The only things I knew for sure that was last night had changed things between me and AJ, and I had no idea what was going to happen next. I went to Naomi’s for a few hours that evening. It was her last night in Little Denton and I wasn’t sure if I’d see her again before the end of the summer. “Maybe he’s never had feelings towards a guy before and it’s freaked him out?” she suggested, when I’d told her that AJ wasn’t responding to my message. “Maybe he’s just confused?” I reasoned. “Maybe he can tell I like him and he likes the attention and it’s making him think that he might like me back, when actually he doesn’t?” “Mmmm. You hear about people, though, who just assume they’re straight, and never think any differently, and then one day they meet someone of the same sex and it changes everything! Maybe that’s him?” Naomi suggested. I didn’t tell Naomi this, but a fellow muscle addict had once told me that “no bodybuilder was one hundred percent straight”. At the time I’d thought it was complete bollocks. And probably wishful thinking on his behalf. But maybe there was something in that, or at least where certain bodybuilders were concerned? I’d heard of guys who were only attracted to bodybuilders. They had no interest in regular sized guys. Sometimes they liked them in addition to girls. Maybe that was AJ? He liked girls, but he was also turned on by freaky, shredded muscle? And then I’d come along, and played with his head and confused him. Maybe if it really came down to it, maybe if we actually kissed, he’d realise he didn’t like me at all? That he could never be with a guy in that way? And certainly not a regular sized, non bodybuilding guy like me. I still hadn’t heard from AJ when I went to bed that night. When I woke up the next morning, I frantically looked at my phone, but there was still no message then, either. When my mum asked if I wanted to go with her to visit my nan that afternoon, I jumped at the chance. Anything to take my mind off the fact that AJ was ignoring me. I even left my phone at home, which felt oddly liberating. “You don’t seem like your usual happy self!” my mum said to me on the walk there. “I’m fine!” I protested. “Is it because Naomi’s gone back?” I rolled my eyes in response. “You can always go down and visit her before you go back to uni!” she suggested. “I know!” I replied. Maybe I should, I thought. Maybe it was what I needed. To get away from Little Denton. To get away from whatever was going on with AJ Jones. Maybe I’d deactivate my Facebook profile and go to Brighton? Try and forget about AJ. Make him worry and wonder why I’d suddenly vanished. Even though the only thing I really wanted in that moment was to hear from him. To know that he was okay. To know that whatever we had wasn’t over and that I would see him again. My nan was as happy to see me as she always was. I told her Naomi had been in Little Denton for the weekend. “Yes, they were out boozing at the weekend!” my mum informed her. “I was awake half the night worrying.” “He’s sensible, aren’t you, Noah?” my nan said. My mum scoffed. “I’m not sure about that! That Naomi definitely isn’t!” When my mum went to use the bathroom I was left alone with my nan. I was feeling brave. “Nan, why do you call Naomi my special friend?” She just shrugged and smiled in response. “You know she’s not my girlfriend, right?” Her mouth curled into this really warm, kind, understanding smile. “I know that, dear!” I thought about what my mum had said. Maybe “special friend” really was my nan’s word for gay people? Or however my mum had worded it. “It’s a shame you stopped being friends with that boy,” she said. “The one with the funny name!” Oh God. My stomach twisted at the mention of AJ. I never would predicted what my nan said next. “I think he was a bit of a “special friend” too!” What the fuck?! I was gob smacked. Before I had chance to question my nan, my mum returned. My eyes suddenly watered. I didn’t really know why. I couldn’t believe what my nan had said. Did she know something about AJ that I so badly wanted to be true? Had she known all this time from when we were at school together? I decided in that moment that as soon as I got home I would swallow my pride and message AJ again. I couldn’t risk losing what we had. Even if it meant ignoring his drunken confessions. I would make AJ talk to me. I just wanted what we had back. And I wanted to see him again so badly. Little did I know that he’d already beaten me to it. My heart blew up in my chest and my stomach somersaulted when I saw those words I loved so much on the screen on my phone; AJ Jones has sent you a message.
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  24. Eighteen “I suppose he’s told you all about this mystery person he keeps on going off to see?” my mum asked Naomi as were heading out the front door. “And who came to pick him up the other day in a car!” she continued. ARGGHH!! “He won’t tell me anything, Naomi! I bet you don’t keep secrets from your mother!” “BYE, mum!” I dramatically said, pushing a giggling Naomi out the door. “For fuck’s sake!” I said as we walked away from my house and made our way to the Little Denton train station. Naomi laughed. “I love your mum! At least she’s cool with talking about that kind of stuff with you. My mum would never ask me about girls!” “Ugh! Wanna swap mums?” I hadn’t heard from AJ since he’d suggested coming to meet us for a drink the day before. All day I had been wondering whether he’d message me and bring up the subject again. Something I was nervous at the prospect of happening. Because, while a part of me had really wanted to hear from him, for the first time ever, another part had hoped that I wouldn’t. When it had got to the evening, I assumed that AJ had either changed his mind about the idea, or that his friends weren’t keen on coming to a gay pub. I wasn’t sure whether I was more disappointed or relieved. What me and AJ had was so special, but it felt like it only existed in Facebook messages, Scorpio’s Gym, his car and his bedroom. We’d created our own little world and those were the spaces it existed in. For AJ to come to a gay pub, to meet my other friends, it felt like it would throw everything off balance. What would he be like in front of Naomi and Eddie? What would I be like? I’d have to create this whole new version of myself, which lay somewhere in between the person I was with Naomi and Eddie, and the person I was with AJ. As I knew they would, Eddie and Naomi got on brilliantly. We were in the bar Eddie and I had been to previously with the two for one cocktails deal. Certain that I wouldn’t hear from him, I had taken my mind off AJ. And then my phone vibrated and all of that changed. Before I even looked at my phone I just knew it was a message from him. “Cookie Monster! We’re coming to meet you. Where you at?” Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I went into a slight panic. I considered ignoring him. Switching off my phone. Because AJ didn’t belong in this world. Because if me, AJ, Eddie and Naomi were ever in the same room the universe would surely implode. “Is that him?” Naomi asked me. She had this sly grin on her face. I bit my lip and nodded anxiously. “What’s up?” Eddie asked as he returned with drinks. Naomi’s grin widened. She was loving this. “Erm … our friend from school says he wants to come and meet us,” I told Eddie. Our friend from school! Naomi was never friends with AJ. “Ahhh, cool!” Eddie replied. “Erm … yeah. Well, it’s that personal trainer guy. Remember the guy I showed you a picture of?” Eddie suddenly looked excited. “The hot, huge bodybuilder guy?” Oh fuck. “Yeah!” I sheepishly replied. I blushed slightly at hearing Eddie describe AJ in such a manner, but I also felt an undeniable rush. “I thought you only saw him that once?” Eddie said curiously. Oh God. “Ummm … no, I see him quite a bit,” I replied, suddenly feeling both nervous, and oddly guilty. “He works at the gym!” I explained. It was the truth after all. Even if it wasn’t exactly why or where I saw him. AJ took a ridiculously long time to arrive. Which was fucking torturous. My stomach was in knots and I was drinking at a faster pace than usual. “Oh my God! Is that him?” Naomi suddenly exclaimed. I turned around, and sure enough, there was AJ Jones, looking bigger and more gorgeous than he ever had. Fuck. His arms were bulging out of a tight, white t-shirt and his absurdly thick legs were squeezed into a pair of light blue jeans that were so tight they looked like they were painted on. Suddenly, all of the nerves seemed to evaporate, and I was filled with this incredible warmth. Because AJ was here. And wherever here was didn’t matter. Even just seeing him again made me feel ridiculously happy. I had wondered whether he might feel uncomfortable or awkward walking into a gay pub. He clearly didn’t. In fact, he looked so extraordinarily confident as he walked towards us. And fucking HELL did he look gorgeous. He was more tanned than he had been the other night. His hair was preened to perfection. His tits were bursting through his t-shirt. And those arms. Those enormous fucking arms! It was so surreal to see him in the setting of a gay pub. He looked like a fucking cartoon. Naomi and Eddie seemed shocked at the sight of him. But it was a good shocked. I actual fucking loved the expressions on their faces. And the fact that AJ had caused them. But it wasn’t just my friends who were reacting to his entrance. It felt like the whole pub was looking at the huge, gorgeous bodybuilder who’d just practically strutted into the pub with a perfectly regular sized, and rather nonchalant looking mate. I couldn’t stop smiling as AJ joined our group. “You remember Naomi?” I said to him. What happened next completely surprised me. AJ put his arm around Naomi and kissed her on the cheek like they were old friends, even though they never had been at school. “And this is Eddie!” And then I was even more surprised, because AJ greeted Eddie in the exact same way. He amusingly responded with an excited and flustered, “Oooh!” that the hot, gorgeous bodybuilder had kissed him. It was absurd, but I felt instantly jealous of Eddie. Interestingly enough, AJ didn’t greet me in the same way. I didn’t get so much as a tap on the shoulder. “Sorry, we went to another pub first!” AJ explained, after he introduced us to his mate as Nathan. “Drinks?” he asked, addressing the group. As he and Nathan went to the bar, I watched a dozen heads turn. People were excitedly whispering and unashamedly staring as AJ waddled through the crowd. I really loved the fact that he was causing such a stir. “He is HUGE!” Eddie exclaimed. Naomi just shot me an amused, knowing smirk. AJ and Nathan came back with a round, then disappeared and quickly came back with a round of shots on top of that. “SHOTS!” he exclaimed, to which Naomi looked especially pleased. I couldn’t believe how confident AJ was. I mean, he was always confident, but never like this. He was more animated too. Whether it was the alcohol or being in the setting of a bar I wasn’t sure. Whatever it was, though, it was like AJ cranked up to ten. It clearly rubbed off too, as Naomi and Eddie seemed to become more lively too in his presence. “I LOVE HIM!” Naomi exclaimed to me not long after. As much as I was enjoying seeing my friends fall in love with AJ, as we all stood around and chatted in a group, I started to crave a bit of one on one time with him. It might sound selfish, but watching him stood in the middle of Eddie and Naomi, a part of me just wanted to take him off somewhere so it could just be the two of us like it normally was. Soon after, he ended up reshuffling so he was stood next time. It was like he’d read my mind. “And why aren’t you wearing your Scorpio’s hoodie?” he leaned in and teasingly said to me. I grinned and playfully rolled my eyes. God. I would have done anything to have kissed him in that moment. Sexy AJ and his bulging biceps and ridiculous chest. Gorgeous AJ and his cute little button nose and heart melting grin. “I wasn’t sure if you were gonna come! So how’s your first gay pub?” “It’s cool!” he said. “Haven’t been mobbed yet though!” I laughed. “You’re getting loads of attention!” He playfully shook his head. “Ugh! I know! I hate it!” And then he wiggled his eyebrows up and down and gave me the most gorgeous and mischievous grin. “Naomi, I hope you’re prepared!” AJ exclaimed. “Because Noah’s gonna be a huge, shredded muscle freak soon!” Oh my fucking GOD! I shook my head and grinned, while blushing slightly. “His arms definitely look bigger!” an amused Naomi said. “They’ll be TWICE as big as that when we’re done! I’ve been teaching him all the bodybuilding lingo! And we’ve picked out a nickname for him!” Naomi nodded and shot me a sly, knowing look. My cheeks were burning. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. “The Cookie Monster!” AJ exclaimed. “GRRRR!!” I felt so incredibly sheepish, but I couldn’t help smiling. AJ was letting Naomi in on the little world we’d created, and I knew exactly what was going through her mind. How much I loved it. Whatever I had with AJ. And how much I clearly liked him. “And what does your mum think about all of this, Noah?” Naomi teased. I groaned in response. “I need to see your mum!” AJ excitedly exclaimed. “She’s such a legend!” “NO! That is NOT happening!” I said. “Why?” AJ said. “Because she’ll embarrass the fuck out of me!” “What if I just popped round to your house one day without telling you?” “You better NOT!” I exclaimed. AJ playfully shook his head and turned to Naomi. “Honestly! I buy him a hoodie and he won’t even let me talk to his mum!” The statement completely knocked me for six. Wait, AJ bought me the hoodie? What the fuck?! Maybe it was a slip of the tongue, but Naomi was looking at me wide eyed. AJ didn’t seem to register what he’d said and we carried in as normal. When he disappeared to the toilets shortly after, Naomi broached the subject. “He bought you a hoodie?!” she asked. I was so confused. My mind was racing. “It’s just a hoodie from the gym. He said he’d managed to get it for me ‘cause he knows the owners!” I explained. “They do have a shop there though!” Naomi raised one eyebrow, and had this suspicious look on her face. “Hmmm. I dunno!” she replied. “He, just … seems to like you! It feels like there’s something going on between you two!” FUCK! “Did you notice how he hugged and kissed you and Eddie but not me?” I asked Naomi. “Yeah,” she replied. “But you probably wouldn’t do that if you liked someone, would you? It would mean too much to just do it that casually!” My stomach was doing somersaults. Was Naomi right? Could the thing I’d been thinking since the leg incident actually be true? Fuck, fuck, FUCK. AJ came back to the group. “Noah, come with me for two minutes. I just wanna show you something!” I looked at him with a confused look. “What?!” I asked. “Just come with me!” he demanded. What the fuck?! I followed AJ, excited but confused. It was such a fucking rush following him through the bar. So many heads turned at the huge, cute muscle bull bulging out of his tight, white t-shirt. The same huge, cute muscle bull who was with me. AJ led me into the empty men’s bathroom. He peeped round the door to check no one was coming. I had no idea what was going on. “I’ve just got something to show you on my phone!” he said, standing about a foot away from me. He looked down and his hand slipped towards one of his jean pockets, but in one swift movement, he bought both of his arms up to his shoulders, looked at me with the most manic grin, and then bought both of his arms down into a most muscular pose, with a loud, grizzly, “YEEESSS!” OH MY FUCKING GOD!! I didn’t know where to look. Or what to do. I was frozen to the spot. As he’d teased two nights before, in the middle of the toilets of a gay pub, AJ had just surprised me by squeezing a crab most muscular pose right in my fucking face when I had least expected it! An actual bodybuilder, right in front of me, posing just for me, in the cheekiest and horniest way imaginable. “Your face!” he said, giggling. I must have looked horrified because AJ suddenly looked concerned. “Noah, are you OK?” I shook my head. “Ummm … yeah!” I said, trying to regain composure. “You just scared the shit out of me!” It was true. He had scared me. But scared wasn’t the only thing I was feeling. Shock. Amazement. An overwhelming desire for AJ to crank out another pose in my face with that crazy, manic grin and outrageously cocky sound he’d made and to see his muscles bulging under and around the fabric of his t-shirt. FUCKING HELL!! I finally relaxed my face. “You’re a fucking nutter!” I managed to say. AJ giggled. “Told you I’d do it when you least expected it!” he said with a mischievous, proud grin. He clearly loved the fact that he’d made good on his promise and pulled off his outrageously cheeky stunt. Still flustered, I grinned at him back. Because I’d loved it too. So, so fucking much. Amazingly, standing so close together, looking at each other and smiling, sharing a moment, it felt like something was happening again. Time seemed to slow down. The butterflies were going crazy. And I wanted to kiss me so badly it felt like I was going to explode. Two guys came into the toilets and broke the tension. They both clocked AJ straight away. “My God! Your arms are HUGE!” one of them exclaimed, with absolutely no inhibition. I could tell he was a bit of a character. Loud and animated and a little camp. And probably a little bit drunk too. AJ laughed and flashed him a warm, friendly grin. “Can I ask you a question?” the guy said. “How often do you go the gym?” Fuck, I loved it. Just seeing AJ getting attention and people reacting to his muscles. AJ shook his head. “Never been to the gym before in my life, mate!” he replied, with a straight face. The guy laughed. “Can I have a feel?” Oh. My. Fucking. GOD! “Sure!” AJ replied, his mouth curling into an excitable grin and his whole face lighting up. WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?! I felt like I had slipped into an alternative reality as AJ stuck his arm out and curled his fist into a flex and an insane ball of bicep muscle, bigger than I ever would have expected, exploded off his upper arm, and this incredibly lucky stranger before us place a hand around the bulging muscle and gripped it tight. There were so many emotions running through my mind at that moment. Amazed and aroused at seeing AJ’s flexed bicep. Dumbfounded that this stranger had been so bold and brazen as to ask if he could feel his muscles. Impressed at how casual AJ had obliged. Aroused at how he seemed to be loving the attention, and having his muscles felt. And an almost insane jealousy and envy that this complete stranger had walked into the bathroom, and two seconds later was doing the thing I had longed to do since purchasing my very first muscle magazine; feeling the flexed bicep of a genuine, competitive bodybuilder. The stranger’s face fell open in shock and his eyes were transfixed on the flexed bicep underneath his fingers. “Fucking HELL!” he exclaimed. AJ’s grin grew wider in response and then I felt a sudden, strong pang of nerves when AJ briefly glanced in my direction and locked eyes with me. And I knew exactly why. I was terrified of the thought of him being able to read my expression in that moment. Which I’m sure he did, because his smile faded and he was suddenly looking at me with a serious expression, followed by a sheepish little smile. Like he knew what I was thinking. Fuck. It felt like another little shared moment. My stomach twisted and he quickly looked back at the guy feeling his bicep. A thought suddenly flashed in my head. More of an image, of AJ turning to me and saying, “OK, Noah, your turn next!” I wanted it so badly. I wanted to feel that muscle. I wanted to touch AJ in an intimate way. But at the same I didn’t. Because I was terrified of what my response would be, and what my expression would give away, if it hadn’t already. “That is bonkers!” the stranger said, releasing his grip on AJ’s bicep. They exchanged names and gave each other a little hug, then me and AJ exchanged knowing, amused smirks at what had happened as we walked out of the toilets. “Guys here are so friendly! I might have to come here again!” he said, as we walked back to the group. Meanwhile my head was still spinning at what I’d just witnessed. “I’ve just been felt up in the toilets!” AJ outrageously announced to everyone as we returned to our friends. “I’m not surprised!” Eddie exclaimed. “OK, there’s a guy over there,” Naomi said. “And I’m pretty sure it’s Reece Miller!” My stomach lurched. “Oh no! Really?!” I asked. “FUCK! OFF!” AJ replied, spinning his head around to where Naomi was looking. But while I was nervous at the prospect of seeing my ex best friend from school who’d outed me to everyone in Year 11, for the first time in years, AJ seemed excited. I looked to where Naomi was directing my attention to, and sure enough, it was Reece. My stomach twisted at the sight of him. “Who’s Reece Miller?” Eddie asked. “A little fucking PRICK!” AJ exclaimed. My heart fluttered. I loved how much AJ hated Reece. “My ex best friend from school. I told him I was gay and he told the whole school!” “What?!” Eddie exclaimed. “Why’s he so orange?” Naomi asked. “Think he’d be surprised to see us together?” AJ asked mischievously. I smirked in response. “Noah, come on!” AJ said, signalling for me to follow him. “What?!” “We’re just gonna have a little chat with him!” AJ said, firmly. “NO WAY!” I exclaimed. “Come ON!” he said forcefully. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! I couldn’t not go. Even though I was nervous as hell. But I had to admit, I was kind of excited too. I had no idea what AJ was about to do. So I followed him towards my ex best friend. “Reece Miller!” AJ said in an animated, overly friendly fashion as we closed in on him. Reece and the guy he was with looked surprised at the. Reece and the guy he was with looked shocked at the sight of AJ. “AJ Jones from school!” AJ said. Reece didn’t seem particularly impressed with the fact that AJ had morphed into a muscle bull. He briefly gave him a quick, fake smile, before it faded and a brief look of judgement and disdain fell on Reece’s face, which he failed to mask. Almost like he was looking down on AJ. I felt a sharp pang of hatred towards him in that moment. How fucking dare he look at AJ at that way? “You remember Noah?” AJ asked. Reece looked at me. He nodded and his mouth curled into smile. I couldn’t help noticing there was a sly, smugness about it though. Like he still got a kick out of what he'd done to me at school. “Yeah! Of course!” Reece said. “This is David!” he said, signalling to the guy standing next to him. On first impressions, David seemed nice enough. Way too nice to be hanging out with a little bitch like Reece. “Weren’t you two best friends at one point?” AJ asked. Oh God! I suddenly felt nervous. Reece looked surprised at the question and gave a slightly awkward, forced smile. “Yeah, you were. I remember!” AJ continued. “Didn’t Noah confide in you that he was gay and then you went behind his back and told everyone at school?” OH MY GOD! I was shocked. Everything suddenly felt really awkward. Reece and his mate were speechless. Reece’s mouth actually hung open for a little while. AJ then turned to David and put his hand on his shoulder. “Yeah! Your boyfriend’s a fucking PRICK, mate!” And then he confidently and casually strode off, with me in tow, leaving an embarrassed and clearly outraged Reece behind. My heart was bursting in my chest. Fuck. I’d loved what AJ had done so much. It had been so fucking slick and smooth, and he’d been so confident and ballsy. But it wasn’t just the way he’d done it, but the fact that it had all been for me. It felt like I had my very own hero. A knight in shining armour. Or should that be a knight in shining posing trunks? I’d never felt that Reece had gotten his comeuppance for what he did to me. Sure, I’d confronted him and shouted at him. My mum had stormed round his house, too and shouted at his mum. But nothing had ever really happened after that. I’d never gotten the impression that he’d ever felt particularly guilty for outing me and causing me months of hassle at school, either. He definitely hadn’t shown any sort of remorse. And now he’d been exposed and humiliated in front of either a boyfriend, friend or date by the hottest guy, probably to ever set foot inside the bar. I couldn’t help thinking how much my mum would love to hear about how AJ had humiliated him, too. “That was fucking AWESOME!” I said to AJ as we walked back to the group. He turned around and flashed me one of this warm, gorgeous, coy grins. And in that moment, my feelings for him felt bigger than ever. “AJ’s a bit of a character!” Eddie said to me when AJ and Naomi went to get another round of drinks. “Yeah. Just a bit!” I said, grinning. “And you were right. He is pretty hot!” Oh God. I suddenly felt nervous. I had completely forgotten that I’d described AJ that way, back on my second date with Eddie after my personal training session with AJ, before we’d really started to get to know each other again, before all the cute, funny Facebook messages, the trips to Scorpio’s and the nights in at his. I nervously smiled at Eddie, trying to play it cool. If only he knew how I really felt. AJ and Naomi came back shortly afterwards with another round of shots. I remember looking at the two of them in that moment, getting on so well and feeling this incredible sense of warmth towards them both. My best friend Naomi and my old slash new friend AJ. Both so incredibly special to me. I couldn’t think of any two people I would have rather been with in that moment. Up until that point it had been such an awesome night. AJ joining us and completely making the evening what it was. Him and Naomi getting on so well. The way he’d confronted Reece Miller. The most muscular he’d squeezed in my face in the toilets (FUCK!) and the lucky stranger who’d felt one of his flexed biceps shortly afterwards. I never would have predicted how that night would end. You could probably argue that it didn’t really end that well, but I’m not sure that’s entirely true. But that particular round of shots seemed to be something of a turning point. Things got extremely hazy from that point on, but I’m sure that most of the next half an hour or so I spent mostly talking to Eddie. Naomi was there for some of it, but there were definite periods where she wasn’t. The same went for AJ. What I do remember is this. That at some point, AJ turned from the fun loving, happy, outgoing life of the party into something else entirely. I remember him looking, not so pissed off, more upset about something. And I didn’t know what. I remember this overwhelming feeling of concern. And asking his friend Nathan if AJ was okay and him telling me that AJ had just had a lot to drink. And then I remember Eddie telling me that he’d had fun the Friday before when we’d gone for Chinese and ended up back at his, and not long after he kissed me. Then I remember going to the toilets shortly afterwards and suddenly having a pang of worry for AJ in my stomach and thinking that I really wanted to find him. Things were more clear after that. Like my worry for AJ sobered me up a little. Or maybe it was what happened next. On the walk back to the group, Naomi approached me and what she said made my heart drop. “AJ’s gone!” “What?! Why?” “He didn’t say goodbye to anyone,” she explained. “He just kinda stormed out. He looked … pissed off. More upset actually!” Fuck! A dozen questions were racing through my mind. Had I done something wrong? Why had he left without saying goodbye? Was he okay? Why was he was so upset? And then I had a sudden, strong urge to run after him. His friend, Nathan, then approached us with his phone in his hand, shaking his head. “He’s just text me. He’s on his way back to the station!” he said, rolling his eyes. “Is he OK?” I asked concerned. Nathan shrugged. “Yeah. He’s wasted! He’ll be fine. He gets like this sometimes!” he said casually. I couldn’t help noticing how little Nathan seemed concerned about AJ. Meanwhile, I was barely able to breathe from worry. “I’d better go after him. See you, guys!” “Yeah. See ya, mate!” I replied. “Oh, Happy Birthday by the way!” Nathan furrowed his eyebrows. “It’s not my birthday!” he said. “Oh!” I said sheepishly. It was a weird, awkward moment, but there were bigger things going on, and Nathan had to rush after AJ. I was sure AJ had said it was his mate’s birthday and that’s why he was coming into town. He had said it. Unless he’d ditched some other mates to come and meet us? I text AJ. A series of frantic messages that I may have had second thoughts about sending had I not been drinking shots all evening. “Are you OK?” “How come you just left? Naomi said you looked upset?” “Just let me know you’re alright!” But I didn’t get an response. “Maybe he just realised he was really drunk and had to leave?” I reasoned with Naomi. She was shaking her head and looking at me with a smug grin. “What?” I asked. “It was because of you!” Naomi said to me. “What?! WHY?! What do you mean?!” I asked, anxiously. “Weren’t you kissing Eddie?” Fuck! My heart started to pound. No. Surely that wasn’t it? What the fuck?! “Why would that bother him?” I asked her. But I think I already knew the answer. And Naomi looked at me again, excited with one eyebrow raised. And I felt excited too, because maybe she was right, again. “There’s something going on with you two! The way he talks to you.” Fuck. “The way he looks at you!” Fuck, fuck, FUCK! I can’t describe the buzz I was feeling at that moment. It was like I’d slipped into another world. A world where AJ, the boy who said he’d look after me, the boy who spent hours sending me funny, cute messages, the boy who the week before told me he’d hold my hand to protect me, the boy who’d potentially bought me a hoodie, not just obtaining it for free as he’d told me, the boy who’d possibly lied about being out for a friend’s birthday just so he could come and meet me, the boy who’d transformed and moulded himself into the kind of cocky, shredded, competitive bodybuilder who turned me on more than anything else in the world, could actually, possibly like me back. It was around five am that morning when I read the drunken Facebook messages AJ had sent me a few hours earlier that that very world would seem even more likely.
    1 point
  25. Jan wirkte noch ein wenig perplex meiner plötzlichen Überleitung wegen, ich war aber schon aufgesprungen und (während mein Penis auf meinen Oberschenkeln aufschlug ) zum Schreibtisch gegangen. Während der Rechner hochfuhr sagte mir dann der Fußballer seine Mailadresse und ich hämmerte mit meinen großen Pranken ein wenig auf die Tastatur ein. Ich ging auf die Seite und fand sogleich den EMPFEHLEN Button. Ich drückte ihn und gab die Mailadresse von Jan ein. „David!“, rief Jan plötzlich lauter. Anscheinend hatte er schon länger versucht mit anzusprechen. „Was ist los?“, fragte er dann erneut. Es ertönte das Geräusch einer versendeten Email und ich drehte mich dann langsam um. Mein Penis war schon wieder am hochfahren – allein der Gedanke an Jan der in meine Gewichtsklasse und Liga aufsteigen würde.... Ich ging langsam auf ihn zu und fing etwas zögerlich an ihm alles zu erzählen. Dass ich vor ein paar Wochen noch ein leicht übergewichtiges Mobbinopfer von ihm und Sven war. Dass ich langsam über die Ferien dank dieser Seite wuchs und meine Muskeln, mein Schwanz und meine Dominanz sich änderten. Während ich sprach stand mein Gemächt irgendwann in voller Größe; Jans Gesicht verhärtete sich aber ebenfalls von Minute zu Minute als er mir zuhörte. Ich war fertig mit meiner Geschichte und der junge Mann mir gegenüber stand wortlos auf, zog seine Hose und Shirt an und ging Richtung Tür. Es war nun an mir perplex zu sein und ich ging im mit fragendem Blick nach: „Ehm... Jan?“, versuchte ich ihn anzusprechen. Er stoppte, drehte sich rum und hatte Tränen in den Augen – aber vor Wut. So sein Gesichtsausdruck zumindest. Er wirkte echt sauer, als er trotz allem beherrscht sprach: „DU! Du warst ein Mobbingopfer? Ja klar. Seit ich dich kenne und mich erinnern kann, warst du ein Muskelmonster. Fetter Biceps, dicke Brust und immer nur im Fitnessstudio unterwegs. Ja klar. Verarsch nur den kleinen Jan mit so einer Muskel-Wachstums-Gesichte. Ich kenne die aus dem Netz. Die ominöse Seite die dich wachsen lässt. Ernsthaft.... Meinem Dad habe ich mal gesagt, dass ich Bodybuilding probieren will und er hat es mir verboten. Das war NACHDEM er total ausgerastet ist und diese Typen als grenzdebile Narzissten mit einem gestörten Verhältnis zu ihrem Körper tituliert hat. Dir erzähle ich es und du verarschst mit so einer Story. Hätte ich doch nur mein dummes Maul gehalten.“ Ich wusste nicht, was ich sagen sollte und wollte nur nach seiner Schulter greifen, er fegte sie aber schon in der Bewegung weg und schnauzte mich an: „FASS mich nicht an! Zieh dir was an und LASS. MICH. IN. RUHE!“ Damit stampfte er aus dem Haus und ich hörte nur, wie die Tür geknallt wurde. Unschlüssig was ich tun sollte und warum es sich in meinem Magen und in der Herzregion so seltsam anfühlt, saß ich auf meinem Bett. Keine Ahnung wie lange, denn irgendwann hörte ich erneut die Haustür und meine Eltern kamen nach Hause. Ich kippte schnell das Fenster, dass der Geruch rausging und dann legte ich mich ins Bett und tat so, als ob ich schlafen würde. Es dauert noch sehr lange, bis sich mein Kopf und Magen beruhigt hatten und ich dann tatsächlich schlafen konnte. Am nächsten Morgen hoffte ich einfach mal auf beruhigte Gemüter und das alles nicht so schlimm war. Mit unsicheren Schritten ging ich in Richtung der Schule und dann in die Aula. Ich suchte alles nach Jan ab – fand ihn aber nicht. Erst in der 2. Stunde bekam ich ihn dann zu sehen. Unsere Blicke trafen sich auf dem Gang und er schaute bewusst und immer noch sauer dreinblickend weg. Ich ging auf ihn zu und wollte anfangen zu reden, doch er fiel mir direkt ins Wort. „Na was ist, Dominik? Auf der Suche nach Steroiden?“, dann ging er weiter. Ok... Ich hatte es total verbockt. Die Woche ging noch so weiter. Egal wann ich Jan ansprechen wollte kam ein dummer Spruch, der mich nicht wirklich verletzte, aber zeigte, wie sauer der Fußballer war. Mein Spaß an Schule, Sport und Co verflog mit jedem weiteren Tag. Ich kam mir wie ein Idiot vor, dass ich tatsächlich vergessen hatte, dass die Seite wohl auch die Erinnerungen aller Personen angepasst hatte. Meine Eltern, Lehrer und (Ex-)Rivalen. Meine Eltern merkten, dass etwas los war, ich blockte aber ab und erzählte irgendwelche Dinge von der Schule und viel Streß und so... Am Sonntag morgen klingelte mein Handy und mit verschlafener Stimme ging ich ran. „Ja?“, murmelte ich. „David. Jan hier...“ er wirkte nervös. Mit einem Mal saß ich aufrecht im Bett. „Hey!“, versuchte ich normal zu klingen. War das zu viel? Zu freudig? „Was gib...“ „... ich muss dich was fragen.“ Unterbrach er sofort. „Ja?!“, meinte ich neugierig. „Den Link... die Seite... die du mir geschickt hast. Ja.... ehm... stimmt das?“ „Was genau meinst du?“ „Naja... das du... vor ein paar Wochen... noch dick und so warst....“ „Jan... ich wollte und habe dich nie belogen. Es ist wahr und ich will nur, dass du auch das bekommst, was du dir so sehr wünschst. Es passt automatisch die Erinnerung der Leu...“ „Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.“, kam es dann nur von der andere Seite und ich konnte nicht zu Ende ausreden. „Was ist los? Was ist passiert?“, fragte ich alarmiert. „...“ „JAN! Was ist?“, hakte ich energischer nach und es folgte auf der anderen Seite ein Seufzer, bevor Jan erzählte. „Ich.... Sven und ich waren verabredet, er hat aber abgesagt. Ich saß am Samstag Abend alleine zu Hause und wurde... naja... geil. Ich wollte im Netz nach „Material“ suchen und ich erinnerte mich an deine Mail. Ich dachte immer noch, dass du mich verarscht hast und klickte dennoch auf den Link. Ich dachte, da kommt dann so ein 3D Modell, dass du anpassen kannst und ich kann... naja... ein bisschen rumspielen. Ich gab Fantasie-Werte ein und das alleine machte mich schon mega geil. Kurz bevor ich kam schickte ich dann die Werte ab und dachte an nichts. Es kam kurz darauf eine Antwortmail, dass meine Anfrage beantwortet wird. Ich war... total fertig mit den Nerven da ich nicht wusste, was das sollte und ob ich jetzt Probleme bekommen würde. Dann die Bestätigung. Mein Auftrag wird bearbeitet und auf Grund der Dringlichkeit sind die Korrekturen in 4 Wochen umgesetzt. Ich dachte immer noch, das sei ein Scherz... und heute Morgen habe ich mich gewogen. Ich habe 4kg zugenommen! DAVID! 4-fucking-Kilo!!!“ „Das ist doch super!!“, versuchte ich positive Energie zu verbreiten. „NEIN! Du verstehst nicht... Ich habe FANTASIE Werte eingegeben.“ „Oh...“ dämmerte es mir. „Was für ein Gewicht hast... du denn... eingegeben?!“, fragte ich nun vorsichtig. „220 kg bei 5% Körperfett.“ „Fuck.“
    1 point
  26. Die Zeit wirkte wie eingefroren. Wir beide standen da, unsicher wie wir reagieren sollte und ich nur mit einem kleinen Handtuch bekleidet. Irgendwann fand ich wieder zu meiner Sprache zurück und versuchte, die Situation beherrschend, selbstbewusst zu fragen: „Was geht?“ (Ernsthaft... WAS GEHT.... wie bescheuert.) Jan schien aber mein verbaler Fauxpas nicht aufgefallen zu sein und meinte: „Ich... ehm... wollte mir dir.... ehm.... reden.“ Auf einmal wurde der Fußballer total rot im Gesicht und fügte leiser hinzu: „Über.... heute... den... Unterricht.“ Keine Ahnung ob ich rot wurde, aber auf einmal fühlte ich mich auch etwas anders. Ich trat beiseite und machte den Eingang frei. „Komm rein.“, meinte ich und stand an der Tür regelrecht Spalier. Jan trat ein, schaute sich kurz um und ich geleitete ihn dann in Richtung des Wohnzimmers: „Willst du... eine Cola?“, fragte ich und wirkte nun auf einmal gar nicht mehr so selbstsicher, wie es mir recht gewesen wäre. Wo war dieses Testosteron, dass mich zu einem Alpha machte, wenn man es brauchte? Jan schüttelte nur den Kopf, setze sich und wirkte in seiner ganzen Haltung extrem verspannt. Ich setzte mich ihm breitbeinig gegenüber, dachte nicht nach und wollte dann tatsächlich mit ihm ein ernsthaftes Gespräch führen. Die Augen meines Mitschülers weiteten sich nur, als meine Männlichkeit relativ prominent aus dem kleinen Handtuch raushingen. Als ich den Blick bemerkte und ihm folgte wurde ich anscheinend wirklich rot (warum wurde ich ROT? Ich hatte vor ein paar Stunden seinen Mund an meinem Schwanz, wollte mit meinem Sportlehrer schlafen und jetzt war mir DAS peinlich?), nahm schnell das Handtuch und verdeckte damit so gut es ging meinen Penis. „Sorry.... Ehm... was wolltest du besprechen.“, leitete ich dann das Gespräch ein um diese seltsame Situation zu entschärfen. Jan holte tief Luft und ratterte dann, wie auswendig gelernt runter: „Das war ein Versehen. Das sollte eigentlich gar nicht passieren. Es tut mir Leid, dass ich das gemacht habe und zum anderen dass du Ärger mit Herrn Becker bekommen hast. Weiterhin wäre es super, wenn du das für dich behalten könntest.“ Jetzt dämmerte es mir und ich wusste, worauf Jan raus wollte. Ich schaute ihn ruhig an und fragte, so neutral wie möglich: „Du bist schwul und keiner weiß es, oder?“ Jan’s Kopf drohte zu explodieren, so rot wurde er. Er schüttelte den Kopf. „NEIN! Nein! Ich... haha.... ich bin das nicht. Mädchen und so machen mich total geil.“ Ich antwortete auf diese offensichtliche Lüge nicht und schaute ihn nur ruhig an. Es herrschte wieder einen ganzen Moment Stille und nur auf der Straße konnte man das ein oder andere Auto fahren hören. Irgendwann brach dann der Widerstand von Jan und er seufzte. „Du darfst es KEINEM erzählen.“, begann er dann zu sprechen. „Ja. Ich stehe auf Männer. Seit ich mit Fußball angefangen habe und in der Umkleide all die Kerle mit trainierten Körpern gesehen habe, wusste ich es. Ich finde einen Schwanz halt geiler als Brüste.“ Ein erneuter Seufzer. „Aber sag das mal deinen Eltern. Oder deinem Trainer. Oder so jemandem wie Sven. Er ist mein bester Freund seit der Grundschule und er wirkt wie ein Arschloch. Aber er ist vollkommen ok.“ – „Na anscheinend nicht, wenn du ihm sowas nicht sagen kannst.“, antwortete ich dann sogleich. „Du verstehst das nicht. Das ist nicht... so einfach.“ Und tatsächlich wirkte Jan eher verzweifelt. Ich betrachtete den jungen Mann einen Moment, nickte dann aber und sagte: „Ich... behalte es für mich. Ok? Versprochen.“ Ich wusste nicht ganz genau, was in ihm vorging und warum er es nicht einfach erzählte oder dazu stand, aber ich akzeptiere die Entscheidung von ihm. Jan lächelte matt und nickte einfach nur. Es herrschte noch einen Moment Stille und ich wusste nicht so recht, warum er nicht gehen wollte und warum ich ihn nicht einfach wegschickte. „Kann... ich dich noch um... etwas bitten?“, fragte Jan ohne aufzublicken. Ich nickte erneut und mir blieb regelrecht die Spucke weg, als der Fußballer sagte: „Schlaf mit mir. Sags keinem, behalte es für dich, aber schlaf mit mir.“ Und wieder war der Kopf hochrot. Jans, als auch meiner. „Ehm....“ Unverbindlicher Sex. Hier und jetzt. Meine Eltern waren weg. Ich könnte... was wenn die Nachbarn... ach egal.... Tausend Gedanken steckten hinter diesem einem „EHM“ . Unschlüssig was ich nun tun sollte beobachtete ich nur, wie Jan aufstand, nun auf mich zu ging, eine Hand an meine Wange legte und dann seine Lippen auf meine drückte. Nach kurzem Zögern trafen sich unsere Zungen und dann (endlich) übernahmen die Hormone die Kontrolle. In Rekordzeit war mein Schwanz zu voller Größe angewachsen und die Spitze berührte schon den Bauch von Jan. Er beugte sich sogleich runter, nahm ihn in den Mund und ich konnte nur Stöhnen und Zittern vor der Sensibilität. „Gott... der ist so gigantisch“, meinte Jan als er kurz den Mund frei hatte. Ich selbst war wie ein Zuschauer, der beobachtete, was ich rein instinktiv machte. Meine Arme schlossen sich um den (vergleichsweise) zierlichen Körper von Jan, meine Biceps spannte sich an und die Adern traten hervor. Ich nahm den Fußballer hoch und ging mit ihn in mein Zimmer im ersten Stock. Ich warf ihn leicht auf mein Bett und beugte mich sofort über ihn. Unsere Lippen berührten sich wieder und wir küssten uns, während ich immer fordernder wurde. Mit meinen Lippen selbst konnte ich die leichten Stoppeln von Jans Bart spüren und mit meiner Hüfte, die seinen Schritt versuchte leicht zu massieren, konnte ich seine Erektion spüren. Ich zögerte nicht lange, riss ihm das Shirt auf und begann mit meiner Zunge an seinen harten Nippeln zu lecken und zu beißen, bevor ich mich über seine Abs hermachte. Der Fußballer war total trainiert und ich konnte jede Wölbung mit meiner Zunge nachfahren, bis ich an seiner Jeans angekommen war. Ungeduldig machte ich diese auf und hatte nun tatsächlich meinen ersten Schwanz direkt vor meinem Gesicht. Mit instinktiver Routine nahm ich nun sein bestes Stück in den Mund und begann mit meiner Zunge daran zu spielen, zu saugen und währenddessen ihm irgendwie noch weiter die Hose auszuziehen. Ein paar Minuten später folgen die Reste des zerrissen Shirts und die Hose unachtsam auf den Boden und unsere beiden, nackten Körper waren eng in einander verschlungen. Ich spürte unsere Schwänze zwischen unseren beiden Sixpacks eingeklemmt, während wir uns fordernd und regelrecht aggressiv küssten. Meine rechte Hand wanderte dann irgendwann wieder nach unten und fing an den Hintern von Jan zu massieren und langsam einen Eingang zu finden. Mein Zeigefinger an seiner Öffnung, zögerte ich doch einen Moment, blickte dem Fußballer kurz in die Augen und als dieser nickte schob ich meinen Finger komplett in ihn. Er stöhnte laut und beruhigte sich auch nicht mehr, als ich Finger nr. 2 und nr.3 dazu holte. Leider war das nicht mal ansatzweise der Umfang meines Schwanzes. Wie lange ich das Loch weitete, damit ich reinpasste, weiß ich nicht mehr. Irgendwann waren Jans Beine dann in der Luft, drückten gegen meine haarige Brust und ich war mit der Spitze meiner Eichel direkt an seinem Eingang. „Mach!“, forderte er und wirkte beinahe aggressiver als ich auf Testosteron. Von Schreien begleitet rammte ich nun 32 cm in den jungfräulichen Hintern. War der erste Widerstand gebrochen wurde es von Minute zu Minute besser. Jan kam, während ich in ihm war bereits zwei Mal und sein Sperma bedeckte seinen Waschbrettbauch. Ich schwitze, ich stöhnte, ich röhrte und es war das geilste, was ich jemals gefühlt habe. Es könnten 10 Minuten, 1 Stunde oder auch nur 10 Sekunden gewesen sein, bis ich merkte, dass ich kommen würde. „Ich.... komme...“, stöhnte ich und wollte mich aus Jan zurückziehen, aber dieser beugte sich leicht nach vorne was seine Abs anspannte, griff zielsicher nach meinen Nippeln, drückte sie hart und meinte: „Gibs mir, Großer.“ Den folgenden Schrei der Freude und Erleichterung hatte sicherlich die halbe Nachbarschaft gehört. Ich brach zufrieden auf meinem kleinen Freund zusammen, keuchte und zuckte noch immer ob der Anstrengung. Jans Hände strichen mir leicht über den Rücken und wir genossen einfach noch einen Moment. Nackt, verschwitzt und verklebt lag ich auf dem Rücken, Jan zu meiner rechten in meinem starkem Arm. Sein Kopf lag auf meiner Schulter während er mit einer Hand immer wieder durch meine Brusthaare strich. „Wie kann ein Mann nur so gigantisch und gut sein.“, fragte er mit einem zufriedenen Lächeln. „Gute Gene...“, log ich und seufzte innerlich, da das hier nicht wirklich mein Verdienst war. „Ich wünschte... ich hätte auch so einen Body.“, offenbarte sich Jan auf einmal. Ich wirkte überrascht und schaute ihn, sofern das in der Haltung möglich war, an und meinte: „Aber als Fußballer ist das nicht zwingend gut. Du hast mich beim Basketball gesehen.“ Jan seufzte und meinte: „Mein Dad will, dass ich Fußballer werde. War auch ganz nett bisher. Aber ich stehe halt auf Muskelberge. Große Brustmuskeln. Sexy Abs....“, wobei er bei jeder Aussage über das passende Körperteil bei mir strich. Ich folgte der Bewegung und auf einmal kam mir eine Idee. Ich sprang aus dem Bett auf und meinte zu Jan: „Gib mir deine Email Adresse.“
    1 point
  27. So.... ich habe mich mal hingesetzt und zumindest ein bisschen weiter geschrieben! Ich hoffe, dass das Warten sich für euch gelohnt hat und entschuldige mich für selbiges! Ich hatte es gar nicht wirklich realisiert, dass jemand gekommen war und etwas gesagt hatte. Ich war so im Moment gefangen, dass ich mich erst umblickte, als Jan aufgehört hatte. Wie zur Salzsäule erstarrt stand er da, mein Schwanz vor seinem Mund und weit aufgerissenen Augen. Herr Becker war wohl mit der Situation ein wenig überfordert (ich denke nicht, dass man sowas in der Uni beigebracht bekommt) und gestikulierte erstmal wild mit den Händen rum. Als Jan langsam aufstand und versuchte im Erdboden zu verschwinden, übernahm bei mir das Testosteron und der Alpha brach durch. Ich lächelte leicht und ging auf meinen Sportlehrer zu. „Ihr.... geht sofort... zum Rektor....“, stammelte er, als ich wie eine Naturgewalt auf ihn zu kam. 150kg pure Muskeln, 32cm Manneskraft und alles feucht von der Dusche. Ich griff mit meiner großen Hand direkt nach seinem Schritt, spürte seinen langsam hart werden Schwanz und meinte mit meiner tieferen Stimme: „Oder wir haben alle Spaß zu dritt. Du hast doch auch Bock drauf. So jemanden wie mich sieht und fickt man nicht täglich.“ Damit drückte ich ihm meine Lippen auf seine und küsste ihn lange und fordernd. Meine Hand massierte langsam seinen Schwanz der, rein gefühlt, auch recht groß war. Herr Becker stöhnte leicht und ließ es geschehen, bis er auf einmal mit aller mentalen und körperlichen Kraft mich wegdrückte. Die Outline seines quer liegenden Harten konnte man deutlich durch die Sporthose erkennen und auch die Nippel die gegen sein Poloshirt drückten. „Ihr.... beide.....RAUS!“ Jan rannte, wie von der Tarantel gestochen aus der Dusche, rutsche beinahe noch aus und schien froh darüber zu sein, endlich gehen zu dürfen. Mein Sportlehrer keuchte noch immer erregt, hatte sich aber wieder genügend im Griff. „Ich habe meine Grenzen überschritten und DU ebenfalls, David!“ – „Du gehst nach Hause und hast Freude mit deiner Hand oder Jan. Was ihr zu Hause macht, ist mir total latte!“ Ein Grinsen konnte ich mir auf seine Beule bei dieser gewagten Wortwahl nicht verkneifen. „ABER ich bin dein LEHRER, David! Das bleibt unter uns und du fasst mich NIE wieder an!“ Sein Blick war hart und machte deutlich, dass ich hier keine argumentativen Chancen mehr hatte. Ich nickte und trotte dann langsam an ihm vorbei in Richtung Umkleide. Auf dem Weg zu meinem Spint war mir aber eine Sache sehr klar. Ich würde Herrn Becker irgendwann das Hirn rausvögeln. Zu Hause angekommen hatte meine Mutter groß aufgefahren, eine Portion für eine Fußballmannschaft – oder ein einfaches Mittagessen für mich. Ich haute rein, denn die Lauferei hatte mich doch hungrig gemacht. Während ich aß und grob von meinem Schultag erzählte (wobei ich ausließ, dass ich einen Blow-Job in der Dusche von Jan hatte und meine Sportlehrer flachlegen wollte), fing meine Mutter an ihre Handtasche zu packen und generell war sie... aufgedonnert. Ich schaute sie fragend an und sie rollte nur mit den Augen. „David... ich habe es dir doch schon erzählt. Dein Vater und ich haben heute Date-Night und treffen uns vorher noch mit den Meyers.“ Ah! Einmal im Monat machten meine Eltern zusammen einen auf „Wir-sind-so-jung-und-gehen-fancy-essen-mit-Kino-Besuch-danach.“ Ich nickte und versuchte beiläufig lustig zu klingen: „Ihr seid dann aber bis 10 auf jedenfall wieder da, junge Dame.“ Meine Mutter grinste ebenfalls und sagte: „Das ist unser Spruch und nein. Der Film geht erst um 20:00 Uhr los. Wird also wohl eher 11.“ Ich nickte und schaute runter auf mein Essen, denn ich musste mir ein breites Grinsen verkneifen. Ich hatte von 4 bis knapp 11 Uhr sturmfrei. Nachdem meine Eltern gegangen waren, warf ich alle Kleidung von mir und saß nackt vor meinem Rechner. Ich stöberte die klassischen Porno Seiten durch sowie Tumblr, muscle-growth.org und blogsport. Muskel-Typen überall in enger Bekleidung und doch war keiner annähernd so groß wie ich und hatte in Kombination mit den Muskeln auch einen Monster-Schwanz. Ich spielte mit meinem Semi-harten ein wenig rum, eher lustlos, da keiner der Männer mich da wirklich ansprach. Früher hätte ich nicht wirklich lange gebraucht um zu kommen, wenn ich da einen Typen wie Kevin Wolter nackt gesehen hätte. Heute... ich wünschte mir, so ein Typ würde sich nach mir mal die Finger lecken. Und anderes lecken... Etwas unbefriedigt, in vielerlei Hinsicht, ging ich nach unten um mir einen Nachmittagssnack zu holen, als es an der Tür klopfte. In Erwartung den Hermesboten ein wenig zu verunsichern, holte ich mir schnell aus dem Gästeklo ein Minihandtuch, was gerade so um meine Hüfte passte. Mein Schwanz schaute ein bisschen raus und floppte leicht, als ich zur Tür ging. Ich öffnete diese und war für einen Moment genauso perplex wie Jan. Dieser schaute an mir runter, die Augen weiteten sich und er meinte: „Ich... ehm....wollte....“
    1 point
  28. Thanks for all the comments, part four should be up by the weekend at the earliest. Read Part One HERE Read Part Two HERE Liquid Manhood Chapter Three “You are in very good health Mr Wington” the doctor finally said after poking and checking Barrett out for nearly an hour The doctor had seemed to take a great deal of pleasure in having Barrett strip, the older man’s hands running along the ridges of Barrett’s stomach and chest. Ridges that to most people would of been considered amazing to possess, but Barrett knew they weren’t as cut as they had been last week. “We’ll have to wait for the test results to come back in a few days, but from what I can tell you are a fit healthy man in his early 20s” the doctor added, flicking through a chart Barrett looked the doctor in his almost-orange-with-fake-tan face, annoyance plastered over Barrett’s handsome, but exhausted features. “Nearly two months back when you gave me my start of the year physical you said I was the most healthy person you’d ever saw” Barrett explained Even back then the doctor has spent more time than he needed to feel out Barrett’s body. He remembered the doctor fingering each solid brick of Barrett’s abs. Shaking off the memory of the obvious groping he heaved himself off the examination table, pulling at the bottom of his shirt to hide his still amazingly ripped abs. He’d been doing it more and more recently, he just had this thought in the back of his head that he was on display, like he was suddenly all self conscious. He even dug out an old long sleeved shirt from his closet to hide the thick toned pillars he called arms. The Barrett Wington who had always tried to not wear a shirt suddenly didn't want anyone to look at him. “Yes…well Mr Wington, that was last month” the doctor replied “You still are in very good shape, and very good health” There it was, ’very good’, not ‘amazing’ or ‘incredible’. Barrett was used to being perfect, ‘very good’ was a demotion. “Like I said when you arrived and when you called last week” the doctor continued “You might just have a bug, happens a lot in the first few months of the academic year” Barrett just nodded, the doctor was most likely right. A virus or infection was the only explanation for how Barrett felt, and how it seemed the entire football team were feeling the same. The doctor handed Barrett a small box of pills. “Takes these twice a day” the doctor said “Should give your immune system a little boost” Barrett just nodded again, finding it harder to find his voice, like he was getting nervous around people. As he left the doctor called back “Come back in a few days, we’ll have your results then, but remember to take it easy.” Barrett ignored him and slowly walked back to the frat house, scratching at his crotch the entire way. His jock strap was still itchy, even though he’d had it washed everyday since the itching started. He probably shouldn't wear it anymore, but he just couldn't get comfy in other underwear. It was like he’d gotten used to the itchy jock. Going to the local clinic felt like a waste of time, he’d felt like shit all week. It had messed with his workouts, even football practice had been terrible. Coach Peters nearly burst a vein bellowing at the failing athletes, and at Barrett especially. But Barrett had a horrible thought in the back of his mind, a virus could cause every symptom he had. It would cause the soreness, the exhaustion, the failure to be an active jock, but even with Barrett’s basic knowledge of biology he knew that nothing could make your feet a size smaller. He stared at his feet as he walked, both out of a want not to make eye contact with others and to also examine his feet. Barrett’s size 15 sneakers were feeling loose. Maybe it was time Barrett pulled out his old size 14s. Barrett’s next step ended up with his shoe being left behind. His eyes widened and Barrett quickly slipped his foot back into the too big sneaker. His pace quickened and he crossed his meaty arms over his still impressive chest defensively, on second thought he’d borrow a frat bro’s size 13s. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Chris and Melvin sat in the greasy pizzeria just outside of campus, huddled in a booth a back. The red leather seats fraying and the table still stained from the meals of the last few dozen diners. The dingy restaurant was Paulie’s Pizza, a place famous on campus as the go to place for a cheap meal, just as long as you liked pizza. Paulie, if that was his name was a Persian who clothes were always stained with pizza grease, he was as Italian as Super Mario. But Melvin had to admit he did make a good pizza. The nerdy student was chowing down on a large slice of pepperoni. Chris just stared over his expensive sunglasses at the other students in the restaurant, tightly held in his hand was a specimen cup of emerald green liquid, it was the elixir. A week had passed since they'd started collecting the liquid by draining the football team and Chris had finally decided to test the elixir out on a human. Melvin’s roommate had been very encouraged by the change to Burt the cactus, and even more encouraged by the change in the football team. Everyday Chris would describe all the small changes he’d seen in the athletes, he barely breathed as he hurried out the sighting of Barrett Wington’s shoe falling off his foot yesterday. Melvin was sure that Chris has jerked off that night thinking about Barrett’s feet shrinking. “See anyone yet” Melvin said between bites of pizza Chris nodded with a small smirk on his lips. “Stefan, that German student who's staying for a semester” Chris said in a quiet voice Melvin craned his head around to look for Stefan, he wasn't being subtle. Stefan was sitting at one of the tables in the middle of the restaurant, he was alone and clicking on his phone. He was fair skinned and very blonde. How Melvin imagined all Germans to look, he was lean, but probable had a very average body under his loose hoody. “Why him” Melvin asked returning his gaze to Chris Chris shook his head at Melvin, angry at Melvin’s obvious stares. He explained slowly and with fierce patronisation in his voice “Stefan is the best candidate because he’ll be returning to Germany in a month” Melvin nodded, his voice a little shaken by Chris’ mild anger “So his change won’t attract much attention” Chris nodded and then pulled himself out of the booth. Melvin watched Chris slip past the tables and other patrons, he passed the counter where plates of food waited for the waiters to delivery them to their tables. As he passed Chris poured the sample cup of elixir over one of the plates. Chris quickly vanished into restaurant restroom, always trying not to draw suspicion. Melvin again with his eyes obviously pointed at Stefan watched the short dark haired waiter with a name tag reading ‘Zack’ place a plate of elixir soaked pineapple pizza at Stefan’s table. Chris returned, maybe walking a little too fast. He slapped Melvin on the shoulder to get him to stop staring at Stefan. Melvin looked down at his half eaten pizza slice, picking at the stringy cheese. He heard Chris swear under his breath. “What” Melvin asked without looking “He fucking left” Chris muttered, slapping the table, no one looked towards the bang in the loud restaurant Melvin looked over to Stefan’s table, and it was empty. The pizza hadn't been touched. “Looks like he got a text, and he just left” Chris explained “The idiot paid for the pizza and everything” “So…another target” Melvin asked Chris nodded “Yea….I’ll do some more searching and find someone to dose” The two roommates got up and left, Chris muttering about how stupid people were and how they never did what they should do. Chris not even letting Melvin finish his pizza. Neither of them noticing Zack the waiter with the greasy olive toned skin return to clean the table, or how Zack even though he hated pineapple eagerly ate the abandoned elixir soaked pizza on his way back to the kitchen as Paulie didn't let his waiters have a lunch break. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Sean kept pulling at his shirt, but not because it was tight or because it was riding up his belly. He was pulling at it because it was loose, it hung around his neck and stomach. For the first time in years he was standing in front of and checking himself out in a mirror. The sink below it was flushed lime green, Sean had just washed his mouth out with Mountain Dew. He’d noticed the bottle was a darker green than normal, and the taste was a little different. More savory, almost salty, maybe he’d just picked up a soon to be out of date bottle. The strange tasting beverage wasn’t taking up much of Sean’s attention though, the sight in the mirror was more interesting. Even though he looked just like he always remembered, ginger, chubby and below average, there was something different. He wasn't as plump as before, his face and neck were thinner. There was even the hint of some bone structure peaking through. Nearly every piece of clothing he owned felt looser, except for his shoes. He looked leaner, healthier, like he’d been eating right. Which was wrong, the take out boxes in the trash can a few feet away saw to that. Sean had always thought he could do with losing some weight, and the mirror was proving him right. He just didn't have the mind and will to do it. But he liked the new him looking back from the mirror. Slimmer, eyes a little brighter and not a spot in sight on his pale skin. He even seemed to be holding himself taller. He turned from the mirror and swung his shoulder bag on, it was stuffed with books, but Sean could hardly feel the weight. With a smile on his face, and without his usual setup of headphones blasting music to repel any social interaction he headed out of his room for the campus library. Sean made sure his door was locked and walked straight into a raven haired boy. It was Chris from next-door, close behind him was a quiet blond nerdy boy. Sean didn't know his name, but had seen him enough times to know he was Chris’ roommate. Chris stepped back from Sean, quickly scanning who it was who’d bumped into him. Sean smiled politely at both boys, the blond with the crooked nose smiled back. Chris though stepped forward so he was inches away from Sean, staring him down. Sean surprised himself and almost laughed at the lithe boy’s attempt at intimidation. “What do you think you’re doing” Chris sneered down at Sean The taller boy stared down at him from behind expensive designer glasses. Sean had guessed that Chris was about 6ft tall when he first saw him moving in a few weeks back, but now Sean was maybe an inch shorter then him. This revelation caused a shot of excitement to drop right into Sean’s balls, he’d gotten taller. He’d never in his wildest dreams thought he’d reach 6ft, and he was now a hair’s length away. “I’m heading to the library” Sean explained knocking himself out of his thoughts, and surprising himself with how confident he sounded. Suddenly Chris’ slightly angular face softened “Oh, you mean the Haber Library” Sean nodded, knowing this was leading somewhere. Chris just smiled with perfectly straight pearly whites. The blond boy sighed in relief, Chris must get angry at the drop of a hat. “My last name is Haber you know” Chris stated grandly Sean just shook his head at the arrogant dark haired boy. Chris was attractive by anyone’s standards, but the speed at which he could switch from mild anger to lording something over someone else turned Sean off the high cheekboned student. Chris flicked his glossy black fringe “Yes, we’re an old family, been going to this college since its founding” Sean again just nodded, adding an ‘oh really’ for good measure. He could feel his cock hardening as he stared at Chris’ pretty face, his libibo had been sky high the last few days. He felt dirty getting hard over such an arrogant jerk. “We Habers were here long before the Wingtons” Chris continued rolling his eyes at the dorm room corridor “This shit hole is all they can throw together” Sean remembered the dorm room was named Wington Dormitory, he also remembered that some guy on the football team was called Wington. He then thought ‘It’s a shit hole you live in Chris’ but he stopped himself. Chris gave Sean a friendly slap on the shoulder, it didn't jiggly like it would of a week ago. “Have a good one” Chris smiled widely, seemingly having forgotten the earlier insult Sean watched Chris and the blond vanish into their dorm room. He chuckled to himself and head out, even whistling a little tune. As he left the main doors of the dormitory his nostrils flared and his cock throbbed. There was something rich and musky in the air. He followed it. The thick stench led to the trash cans, they were piled high with trash, having not been emptied this week. Perched on a slant between two black trash bags was a cactus. A large green cactus with a dark red flower atop it. Sean liberated the plant from the trash and inhaled deeply. He only got the small whiff putrid trash, the rest of his sinuses were filled with the musk rising off the cactus. Sean hid the potted cactus behind the trash cans, he’d return for it after he’d finished in the library. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Zack Buffone, like a lot of wait staff was a drama major, and like a lot of drama majors he never imagined he’d be a waiter. But he needed the money, college didn't pay for itself, especially when you had a father disappointed at your life choices. His dorm room in the Wington Building was like most other dorm rooms, two beds, a shared desk and with the simple decorations that each of the roommates had placed around to make it feel like home. Zack had placed a few posters on the wall above his bed, all of them for Broadway musicals. Rent, Wicked and Les Miserables to be specific. His roommate Lance, a golden blonde beach boy had two posters one an idolised version of his native San Diego and the other of some band that Zack was sure he only had up because it was the ‘in’ thing to do. Zack and Lance were different people, Lance naturally athletic, he’d even taken to lacrosse at the start of the year like he was born for it. While Zack was creative, and desperately trying to make a name for himself in the college drama department. They rarely talked, but they had talked it had always been civil, mostly about how to log onto the college computer system, or about their neighbour and his noisy arguments with his girlfriend. But right now their shared room looked like a tornado had torn through it. A neatly kept pile of Lance’s business books had been strewn across the desk. The desk chair had been knocked over and Lance’s mattress had been partly pulled off of the bed’s base. On Zack’s bed lay the tattered remains of his Paulie’s Pizzeria workshirt, like something had burst out of it. Sweat had drenched the sheets and the mattress appeared to be permanently imprinted by the sudden weight of a much too large occupant. The air was thick with the ripe smell of fresh cum and the sound of flesh slapping flesh bounced off the walls. A layer of musk was descending over the dorm room, the odour of sweat and muscle. Zack was standing at the small sink and mirror that all dorm rooms in the Wington building had. This wasn’t the Zack who’d waited tables the day before, the Zack who’d come home in a sweat and collapsed exhausted onto his bed, the Zack who was already feeling the effects of the cup of elixir he’d been accidentally dosed with. A cocky smirk lined his newly chiseled face, his right arm up and flexing. He wasn’t skinny anymore, his arm was thick with muscle. The rounded bicep bulging with the slightest movement. The rest of his body was just as big as his arm. His hand every now and then would grope at the meaty pecs he now owned, his entire body shining with a hearty olive tone. His black hair was glossy and now ran over his boulder like shoulders. Zack now towered above his dorm room, having grew over half a foot. He guessed he had to be at least 6’5 now, and with over a 100lbs of extra mass. Since nothing of his would fit him he’d steal something from Lance’s closet. He doubted anything of Lance’s would be anything but skintight. He was excited, barely thinking about what could've caused his growth. He was too busy stretching out his new muscles. Zack had tried out a number of poses, learning how to get his new muscles to listen to his commands. Lance though was having a completely different experience. Between Zack's newly thickened muscle thighs and with his head painfully banging against the sink was Lance. His hazel eyes bloodshot and teary, his jaw sore and Zack’s monstrous horsedick stretching out and down his throat. Zack’s rounded bare ass flexed with each thrust as he fucked his roommates struggling mouth. Lance had given up punching at Zack’s thighs and ass after the second load of cum had been shot down his gullet. Zack left hand was gripping tightly to Lance’s golden locks, “Fuck…….” Zack said for maybe the dozenth time His voice was deeper, richer and oozed confidence. An almost natural authority, it was how he’d got Lance onto his knees after their brief struggle. The smaller blonde boy didn't know how to pick a fight. He’d punched Zack in his steel hard abs, probably thinking Zack had broken into the room. He remembered asking what Lance wanted, the blondes eyes on Zack's bulge. The newly grown muscle man cupped his crotch, the blonde's eyes only widened. Then something just clicked into place in Zack’s head and he grabbed Lance by the throat and tossed him onto the floor. He cock slapped Lance’s beach tanned face a few times, then went to force open Lance's mouth, only to find it already opened wide. That was nearly two hours ago. Zack looked down his thick smooth pecs at Lance’s spit and cum covered face, he smirked. “You enjoying that” he asked He loosened his grip on Lance’s hair, his thrusting slowed. Lance’s head moved as much as it could, he didn’t need Zack to fuck his throat, he appeared more then happy to impale himself on Zack’s meat rod. A few drops of fresh sweat fell onto Lance’s hungry eyes, the cock tight in his throat, but Lance kept sucking. Zack just boomed out a laugh “I fucking knew it, weird that I’d wanted you to fuck me when we met” His speed returning to his thrusts “Never thought seeing you choke on my dick would of been the better option” With that he pulled out, Lance gasping for air. Zack’s fat cock swung for a second before rising up to slap at his six pack. Lacne’s hands were still holding onto Zack’s huge thighs. Zack pulled him to his feet. Happy to have Lance at chest level, he bounced his pecs in quick succession. Zack caught the growing bulge in Lance’s boxer shorts and smiled. He pushed Lance towards the beds, and gave his perky ass a slap that probably stung. “Pick a bed, I want to dump this load in your ass” he ordered.
    1 point
  29. Da am nächsten Tag so oder so Sport geplant war, hatte ich mich bereits für eine (mehr oder weniger) lose Sporthose entschieden und ein wirklich enges Shirt. Mein Auftritt in der Aula und mein Weg durch die Schule war ähnlich spektakulär wie am Vortag. Vielleicht lag es an dem Shirt bei dem man meine ABS sehen konnte, oder es lag an der wirklich auffällig großen Beule in meiner Hose. Mein eigentliches Ziel des Tages war der Sport Unterricht. Jeder von euch, der das liest, hätte doch gerne so ein paar Schul-Idioten mit seinen großen Muskeln und großem Schwanz mal gerne im Sport in die Schranken gewiesen.... Oder? 1.+2. Stunde. Mathe. Den Tag mit Mathe zu beginnen ist echt scheiße. Aber es war noch die erste Woche. Unser Lehrer (übergewichtig, kurz vor der Rente und unmotiviert) hatte eh keine große Lust. So wurde erst mal ein bisschen gequatscht. Dann gab es Integral Rechnung und Co. Also absolut spannend. Ich selbst merkte, dass die Stühle und Tische für jemanden wie mich echt unangenehm waren. Die Sitzfläche war für kleinere Menschen gedacht und wenig muskulösere. Jeder Stuhl knarzte bedrohlich und durch meinen Bubble Butt und sowie meinen gigantischen Quadrizeps waren meine Kniescheiben fast ohne Probleme an der Unterkante des Tischs. Dann gab es da noch mein Gemächt. Ich musste mich breitbeinig hinsetzten, damit alles Platz hatte und es keine Rühreier gab. Mein breites Kreuz sorgte für den Rest und ich musste alleine an einem Doppeltisch sitzen. Ich war zu breit. Zu groß. Und so einschränkend das auch war: Es war geil. Während des Unterrichts kam mir alles so klein vor. Meine Mitschüler, den Stift mit dem ich schrieb und das Heft. Meine Hände wirkten so groß. Mein Unterarm war mit Adern übersäht. Mein Bizeps hatte die durchschnittliche Größe von Oberschenkeln meiner Mitschüler (und den Taillenumfang von Stefan. Stefan war wirklich mega dünn....) Wir rechneten unsere Aufgaben des Arbeitsblattes und natürlich wurde ich gebeten, die Ergebnisse schriftlich an der Tafel aufzuschreiben. (Ich glaube, der Lehrer wollte mich sehen.) Ich erhob also meine Masse aus dem Stuhl und ging zur Tafel. Spannte ich meinen Hintern an? Spannte ich die Rückenmuskulatur an? Hielt ich die Kreide fester als nötig, damit die Adern hervortraten? Ich kann dies alles mit einem eindeutigen JA beantworten. Ob die Lösung und der Rechenweg komplett und richtig waren? Ich glaube, das hat keinen interessiert. Pause In der Pause hatte ich mich gleich zurückgezogen. Zugegeben, die Aufmerksamkeit war schön, aber letztlich war es ja nur wegen meinem Aussehen. Die Mädels da draussen sahen nur den Bizeps, die Brust, die Abs. Aber charakterlich hatte ich mich ja nicht wirklich verändert. Es war das erste Mal, dass mir die Oberflächlichkeit bewusst wurde. Ändern konnte ich es aber so oder so nicht. Ich „versteckte“ mich also in unserem Schulgarten. Da ging nur der Bio LK hin. 3.-6. Stunde. Irgendwas halt. Der Rest der Stunden und Pause verlief ähnlich. Muskeln, knarzende Stühle, mehrerer Gänge zur Tafel und Bewunderung. 7.+8. Stunde. Sport. Es war so weit. Nicht nur würde ich Sven und Jan wieder sehen, auch könnte ich Jahre der Angst vor der Umkleide endlich bewältigen. Wir warteten im einem Pulk von Jungs vor der Halle, damit unsere neuer Sportlehrer kam. Sport war bei uns nach Geschlechtern getrennt. Man wollte nicht, dass die Jungs im Unterricht beim Anblick von wackelnden Brüsten einen Harten bekamen. Das war auch nicht nötig. Ich würde ein paar Erektionen verteilen. Angesagt war Basketball. Man wählte bei uns im Jahr davor den Kurs fürs nächste Jahr. Bei meiner Größe dachte ich damals, das sei ganz angemessen. Jan und Sven standen direkt in der Mitte von unserer Sportklasse und während sich Sven mal wieder profilierte, nickte mir Jan ungesehen und schnell zu. Ich erwiderte den Gruß, als hinter mir die Stimme ertönte: „Na? Hat da einer Kraftfutter bekommen?“ Als ich mich herumdrehte war es der neue Sportlehrer Herr Becker. Er war mit Uni und Referendariat fertig und unterrichtete bei uns jetzt Sport und Physik. Schlau und sportlich. Er war ca. 1,95m groß, schlank gebaut und hatte ein freundliches, offenes Gesicht mit zierendem 3-Tage-Bart. Ich grinste, flexte für ihn und sagte: „Hartes Training und gutes Essen.“ Er musterte mich ausführlich und nickte dann lächelnd. „Rein mit euch.“ Sven rollte mit den Augen. Drinnen angekommen umfing uns sogleich die gewohnte Mischung aus kaltem Schweiß und viel zu viel billigem Sprühdeo. Jeder suchte sich seinen Platz und ich sorgte dafür, definitiv als letztes reinzugehen. Ich suchte mir einen Platz ziemlich in der Mitte, für jeden gut sichtbar. Während alle mit ihren Sportsachen beschäftig waren, zog ich langsam das enge Shirt aus. Dank Bizeps und Latissimus gar nicht so einfach. Zuerst kam mein (fast) 8-Pack zum Vorschein was von dunklen Haaren konturiert wurde. Dann kam meine Brust mit meinen bereits harten Nippeln zum Vorschein. Sie sackte schwer nach unten, als ich meine Arme wieder sinken ließ und das Shirt zur Seite warf. Deutlich sichtbar war das Brusthaar. Aus meiner Tasche kramte ich mein Tanktop und streifte es wesentlich einfacher über; jedoch war es eigentlich nur zur Zierde. Es war tief und weit ausgeschnitten. Man konnte eigentlich alles sehen. Und alle Augen wurden auch langsam auf mich gerichtet. Ich zog nun meine Hose aus und die lose Boxershorts überlies wenig der Fantasie, da auch schon die Spitze von meinem Schwanz aus dem rechten Hosenbein rausschaute. Es folgte auch die Unterwäsche und meine 25cm pendelten sich zusammen mit meinen Tennisball-großen Hoden erstmal aus. „Oh Gott! Pack deinen Mutanten-Schwanz wieder ein, Harald. Das will keiner sehen!“, brüllte Sven quer durch die Umkleide. „Im Gegensatz zu deinem Micro-Schwanz muss ich die Unterwäsche wechseln. Stell dir mal vor, ich renne und mein Ding klatscht dir ins Gesicht... Man könnte noch meinen, du wärst Schwul weil Mega-Schwänze so auf dich fliegen...“, erwiderte ich gekonnt und auch lauter, als nötig. Es wurde von vielen ein Schmunzeln unterdrückt. Andere hingegen lächelten breit. Während ich noch sprach betrat Herr Becker die Umkleide. „Was ist denn hie...“, er stoppte mitten im Satz als ich in voller Pracht da stand und Sven gerade zur Sau machte. „Alle anziehen und aufs Feld! SOFORT!!“, bellte unser Sportlehrer. Sven wurde sichtlich etwas kleiner und schnell schlüpfte ich meine eng anliegende Sportwäsche. Verstaute und richtete alles aus und zog die Basketball Shorts an. Von vielen anderen wurde mir zugelächelt. Sven war nicht nur zu mir ein Arsch und anscheinend freute sich ein paar, dass er es mal (zumindest ein bisschen) heimgezahlt bekommen hatte. Uns wurden dann die Grundlagen des Basketballs erklärt, wir machten ein paar Übungen und dann hauptsächlich Test-Spiele. Nach bereits einer viertel Stunde merkte ich, dass Basketball keine gute Idee war. 3 Zentner über die Halle zu bewegen war schwer. 3 Zentner SCHNELL darüber zu bewegen fast unmöglich. Ich schwitze wie blöd, sorgte für ein „angenehmes“ Aroma in der Halle und egal in welcher Mannschaft, wir verloren. Meine Teamkameraden rieten mir dann an, dass ich einfach vor dem Korb stehen bleiben sollte und alles blocken sollte, was da kam. Sven und Jan versuchten bewusst auf Distanz zu gehen und zweimal konnte Sven mich einfach aus-rennen. Ich war zu schwer und zu langsam. Er murmelte auch irgend eine Beleidigung, die ich aber nicht mitbekam. Nach 90 Minuten war ich platt. Ich tropfte vor Schweiß und keuchte wie nach einem Marathon. Becker schickte uns dann in die Umkleiden duschen; bat mich aber mit in sein Büro zu kommen. „Büro“ war ein bisschen übertrieben, da es eigentlich nur ein kleiner Raum mit vielen Schränken voll mit Sportutensilien war und lieblos ein Schreibtisch in die Mitte gestellt wurde. „Du hast dich echt gut gemacht, David. Profi-Bodybuilder wären stolz über deine Masse.“, fing er das Gespräch noch im Gehen an. Er umrundete dann den Schreibtisch und setzte sich, während er auf den freien Stuhl im Gegenüber deutete. Ich quetsche mich in den Stuhl und versuchte noch immer meinen Puls ruhig zu bekommen. „Danke.“, keuchte ich immer noch ausser Atem. „Aber du musst schauen, dass du auch genügend Ausdauersport machst. Es geht hier im Kurs um Technik und sportliche Leistung. Diese wird beurteilt anhand von Teamfähigkeit, Siegen und natürlich der Geschwindigkeit. Ich sehe, dass du mehr als genug Sport machst. Aber im Bereich „Basketball“ kann ich dir – wenn das so bleibt – keine gute Note geben. Ich weiß, dass das unfair ist, aber ich muss euch halt anhand der Rahmenbedingungen beurteilen.“ Ich nickte und war dankbar dafür, dass ich sitzen konnte. Mein Puls verlangsamte sich, während Herr Becker sprach und so konnte ich antworten: „Ok. Danke Herr Becker. Ich schaue, dass ich Studio mehr Cardio einbaue.“ Oh Gott... das waren so viele Lügen. Ich würde niemals in ein Studio gehen. Ich würde niemals Cardio machen. Mir war sogar die Note in Sport egal. Der Lehrer nickte und fragte dann nach einen Moment: „Darf ich fragen, was du wiegst?“ – „So um die 150kg.“ – „David.“, meinte er dann mit ernstem Blick: „Du nimmst doch keine Steroide oder anderen Scheiß? Ja?“ Ich lächelte breit und schüttelte den Kopf: „Das ist lieb, Herr Becker. Aber ich habe einfach nur geniale Gene.“, antwortete ich, während er mit Blick auf meine Hose nickte und meinte: „Oh ja...“ Ich wurde dann entlassen und durfte auch endlich duschen. Die meisten waren schon fertig und auch Jan und Sven waren nirgends zu sehen. „Gutes Spiel, Großer.“, rief mir der ein der andere noch zu. Es war eine Lüge. Aber hey.... Ich streifte also die nasse Kleidung ab, nahm mein Handtusch und Duschgel und ging mit schwingendem Schritt in Richtung Duschen. Die warme, stickige Luft von heißem Wasser lies die Schuldusche eher als Finnische Sauna wirken während ich mir eine Brause suchte. Ich machte das Wasser an und genoss den ersten Schwall vom kühlen Nass, als ich wieder hinter mir Schritte hörte. Wie das letzte Mal stoppte Jan wieder. Ich warf einen Blick über die Schulter und nickte ihm lächelnd zu. Entweder lag es an der Hitze, aber er wurde leicht rot im Gesicht. „Ich... war noch auf der Toilette.“ – „Ok.“, gab ich zurück, da ich nicht wusste, wie ich darauf sonst reagieren sollte. Jan nahm die Dusche auf meiner Seite der Wand ein und lüftete dann auch sein Handtuch. Ich konnte mich eines Blickes nicht erwehren. Der Junge spielte ja Fußball und hatte neben einen schön definierten Sixpack auch Mörder-Beine. Alles sehr schlank, aber unglaublich trainiert. Schöne Waden, große Oberschenkel und einen ganz „normalen“ Schwanz. Jan selbst vermied anscheinend jeden Blickkontakt, aber ich wollte provozieren. Ich rieb also mit ausführlich Shampoo alles ein, bückte mich mehrfach unnötiger Weise und machte eine Show-Dusche bis ich merkte, dass Jan mit seinem Harten kämpfte. Er drehte sich immer wieder weg, damit ich ihn nicht sah. Ich schätze die Länge auf solide 15 cm. Ich weiß bis jetzt nicht, was genau mit mir passierte, oder was in mir vorging. Der Anblick von diesem hübschen Mann, die Schuldusche, als das war unfassbar anregend und bald war ich ebenfalls hart. Halt nur fast das Doppelte von Jan. Er zögerte noch kurz, dann schienen aber die Hormone die Kontrolle zu übernehmen und der Fußballer trat mit einem schnellen Schritt auf mich zu, nahm meinen Schwanz in beide Hände und begann in fest zu massieren. Ich konnte mich eines Stöhnens nicht erwehren und sogleich ging Jan auf die Knie und nahm ihn – sofern möglich – in den Mund. Ich weiß nicht, wie lange wir das standen als die Stimme unsere Sportlehrers ertönte: „WAS SOLL DAS DENN! ICH GLAUBE ICH SPINNE!“
    1 point
  30. Hier Teil 2. Vielleicht etwas kurz, hoffe aber, dass es euch gefällt! Meinen Zweifel über die Größe und Ausmaße meines Körpers waren wie verfolgen, als in den Bus einstieg. Alle Augen richteten sich auf mich und (vielleicht war es nur Einbildung) der Bus neigte sich ein bisschen mehr, als ich einstieg. Ich schaute mich nach einem freien Platz um und nahm dann gleich mal zwei Sitze in Beschlag. Mein breites Kreuz forderte doch seinen Tribut. Dennoch war es eng. Ich saß mittig auf beiden Sitzen, damit meine Schultern Platz nach rechts und links hatten. Meine Hose war so eng, dass mein Schwanz unangenehmen eingeengt wurde. Die Fahrt selbst war ereignislos. 07:45 Uhr Natürlich hatte ich einen Bus später wie sonst genommen. Ich wollte, dass die Aula voll war, wenn ich eintrat. Selbstzufrieden und mit Stolz geschwellter Brust (naja... muskulöser Brust) betrat ich dann die Schule. Die Blicke richteten sich auf mich und sogleich begann eine Gruppe von Mädels zu tuscheln. Ich ging durch die Schule in Richtung des Aushangs und Tobias – einer von den „coolen“ Jungs – kam auf mich zu. „Na Digga? Gut Protein gefressen und gepumpt? Wie viel hast du denn zugelegt?“ Kurz war ich ein bisschen perplex, dann dämmerte es mir aber. Meine Eltern hatte ja auch anscheinend irgendwie angenommen, ich hätte das alles antrainiert. Harte Arbeit und so. Ich antwortete: „Nicht genug...“ und zwinkerte, während Tobias mir eine geöffnete Handfläche hinhielt für einen Handschlag und ich folgte dem Angebot. „Man sieht sich.“, sagte er und ging weiter. 07:55 Uhr Ich war am Anschlag und suchte meinen Namen und den Raum, zu dem ich gehen musste. Man machte mir, als ich auf die Tafel zukam, regelrecht Platz und beäugte mich. Arme. Brust. Beule in der Hose. Dem ein oder anderem lächelte ich zu. Ich musste zu Raum 404. Und zum Glück war in meinem Tutor-Kurs auch Sven und Jan. Auf eine geile erste Stunde. 08:05 Uhr Angekommen im Raum wurde es kurz still, als ich mit meiner Masse den Türrahmen komplett einnahm. „Morgen.“, grüßte ich laut, bassig und männlich in den Raum hinein. Ich setzte mich in die erste Reihe, damit ich hinter mir auf jeden fall jemand den Blick verdeckte. Nachdem der Stuhl lautstark protestierte und knarzte, lehnte ich mich leicht zurück, setzte mich breitbeinig hin und wartete auf meine beiden ehemaligen Peiniger. Sie kamen, wie immer, zu zweit in den Raum. Sven war „der Alpha“ von beiden. Er hatte früher im örtlichen Schwimmteam traniert und hatte somit schon immer eine schmale Taille und ein breites Kreuz. Vor zwei Jahren fing er dann an auch zu trainieren und das mit Erfolg. Er war bei weitem nicht annährend in meiner Liga (aber wer war das schon in meinem Alter), aber ein Hingucker war er. Und halt auch leider ein Arschloch. Jan hingegen war von beiden immer der etwas Schmächtigere. Wobei er mit seiner Leidenschaft Fußball auch einen gut trainierten Körper hatte. Ich hatte die beiden mal im Sportunterricht belauscht und Jan ist der Meinung, wenn er Profi-Fußballer werden will, sollte er eher auf Ausdauer statt auf Masse gehen. Sven beäugte mich von oben bis unten und meinte abschätzend: „Irgendwann Platz du, Dennis.“ Ja, er nannte mich Dennis. War er nicht ein Sonnenschein? Dennoch – und das reichte mir aus – musterte er mich mit einer Mischung aus Neid und Respekt. Zufällig spannte ich meinen Bizeps an und die Adern traten deutlich hervor. Jan hingegen brachte mich zum Nachdenken. Er sagte nichts, beäugte mich nur und... lächelte mir zu. Es folgte ein anerkennendes Nicken und er ging mit Sven in Richtung eines freien Doppeltisches. Ich zuckte leicht mit den Schultern (was bei meiner Masse doch einiges in Bewegung setzt) und wartete dann auf unseren Tutor. 09:30 Uhr Die erste richtige Pause. Nachdem ich mich aus dem Stuhl hochgewuchtete hatte und im Hof war, wurde ich sogleich belagert. Eine bunte Mischung aus Mädchen umringten mich und erzählten mir Dinge, die ich nicht wissen wollte, fragten mich Sachen, auf die ich keine Antwort hatten und flirten mit mir, was das Zeug hielt. Irgendwann wurde es mir zu bunt und ich verabschiedete mich unter dem Vorwand, auf die Toilette zu müssen. Es wurde mir noch angeboten, dass man mir halten helfen würde. Aber ich spannte meinen Bizeps an und sagte: „Dafür trainiere ich doch. Schaffe das Gewicht ganz gut alleine.“ Ein bisschen Show musste sein. Auf der Toilette atmete ich dann erst mal tief durch, was ich im gleichen Moment wieder bereute. Ich ging zu einem der Pissoirs und hörte wie hinter mir die Tür geöffnet wurde und die zuvor schwungvollen Schritte abrupt stoppten. Nach einer kurzen Pause kamen sie dann näher. Während der ganzen Zeit kämpfte ich mit einer Skinny Jeans und 25 cm Manmeat und schenkte Jan erst dann Beachtung, als er neben mir stand. „Hey.“, meinte dieser nur und.... was war das für ein Unterton? „Sorry für den Spruch von Sven vorhin. Er meint es nicht so.“ Ich war so perplex das Jan mit mir ein normales Gespräch führte, sich für das Verhalten seines Kumpels entschuldigte und irgendwie ganz normal wirkte, dass ich mit offener Hose, hängendem Schwanz und offenem Mund da stand. Der Blick meines Gegenübers huschte kurz nach unten, bekam große Augen und konzentrierte sich dann sehr ertappt wirkend auf sein eigenes Gemächt. „Ähm... du... kein Ding.“ Ich wollte einen coolen Spruch raushauen, aber mir fiel nichts ein. Konnte es echt sein, dass die Musklen mir Respekt verschafften? Es herrschte eine seltsame Stille, bis wir beide fertig waren. „Bis dann.“, meinte Jan und ging schnell zur Tür raus. Ich stand noch immer noch total überfordert mit der Situation da. Das musste doch ein Trick sein... 13:00 Uhr Der erste Schultag war vorbei. Zum Glück. Ja, meine Muskeln sind geil, aber habt ihr schonmal einen Harten im Unterricht bekommen? Ja? Auch mit 32cm? In einer Skinny-Jeans. Also ich musste mir dringend eine Outfit-Lösung einfallen lassen. Aber da wollte ich mir heute Abend Gedanken machen. Noch immer etwas unsicher bezüglich Jan stieg ich den Bus ein, nahm eine Reihe ein und fuhr nach Hause. Neben der Tatsache, dass ich mit dem Tag eigentlich sehr zufrieden war, freute ich mich noch mehr auf Morgen. Auf dem Unterrichtsplan stand Sport. Endlich... meine Rache in der Umkleide....
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  31. Die erste Geschichte auf Deutsch, die ich hier lese! Weiter so! ?
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  32. Should of been up for Christmas, but the holidays was crazy busy. Hopefully shouldn't be as long a wait till Part Six. Thanks for reading. Read Part One HERE Read Part Two HERE Read Part Three HERE Read Part Four HERE Liquid Manhood Chapter Five Sean normally enjoyed Christmas, but this year he nervously dreaded it. The second he stepped off the train at his hometown’s small country station his parents were amazed by his transformation. His father who was only 5’8 beamed with pride at his now 6’3 son. Sean’s mother joked about having to return some Christmas presents. The next day Sean saw her carrying a bag of already wrapped gifts out to her car, so she wasn't joking. Things got worse for Sean when his uncles, aunts, and cousins turned up. To start, Sean was as horny as ever and not being able to jerk off several times a day was really affecting him. He was washing his own sheets once every couple days just to hide the evidence and the smell. Those nighttime cum explosions were a terrible mess to clean up. He, at over 6ft and with a lean muscled body, didn't fit the Doherty family frame. Sean was a head and shoulders taller than most of them, and was probably the only one who could see his feet without sucking in his gut. The surprise and admiration at his body caused him to spend most of the winter break with a constant blush. A blush which at times could of had him losing consciousness with all the blood that rushed to his face. Like when a cousin walked into him in the night after he’d gotten up to use the bathroom. Sean was shirtless and his cousin almost screamed out in excitement at the ridges of his abs. Sean’s face went as crimson as his hair. Christmas Day revealed the new outfits his mother had chosen for him, and no doubt expected to see him wear. Two pairs of jeans and a sweater were actually something Sean wanted. A number of plain t-shirts, colourful button up shirts, and even some workout gear wasn't what he wanted or even expected. He’d spun a lie about working out to explain his new physique, so he should have expected workout gear. The other clothes weren't his normal style of dress. They were missing the puns, funny images or nerdy logos every other piece of clothing he owned had plastered over them. Though those pieces didn't fit him anymore. Sean told his parents he loved all his gifts anyway. He was very happy that they’d got him the games he asked for, but he didn't have the heart to tell them that in the days that followed he returned about half the clothes they’d brought for him. He kept the workout gear just in case. Sean even dropped to the floor and did some sit ups or push ups when his parents came knocking on his door. He wanted to avoid the awkward questions about his sudden change, questions which he himself didn't have answers for. ——————————————————————————————————————————— “My parents really like you,” Lance said to Zack as he stared into his eyes while they lay in bed together. Zack sat up slightly, pushing his meaty torso upwards with his thickly muscled arms. The two boys, now boyfriends, were spending Christmas together. This gave Zack a chance to see San Diego and Lance a chance to reveal he was gay to a very surprised family and friends. Though a number of them understood Lance’s attraction to Zack once the olive toned stud started wearing clothes more fitting of California. Right now Zack’s pecs and abs glistened with a light sheen of sweat above Lance, who bit his lip in appreciation. “Seriously… you’re gonna mention your parents while I’m balls deep in you?” Zack asked, laughing with a hint of annoyance in his voice. Lance whimpered slightly as Zack flexed his oversized cock, the thickening girth pushing against Lance’s tight hole. “Sorry,” Lance quickly replied, his eyes closed as pleasure rocketed through him. “Good, now shut up,” Zack ordered, returning to his fierce thrusting “This bed is already way too loud” Lance’s parents were downstairs, trying to ignore the sound of their darling boy being power fucked by his boyfriend, the sound of the bed’s wooden frame hitting the wall echoing through the house in time with each of Zack’s titanic thrusts. ——————————————————————————————————————————— A few days had passed since A.J. had arrived home and Barrett was hating every second of it. He could deal with the sympathy and concern from his family. He could deal with how his relationship with A.J. had moved from athletic manly rivalry and into one of just pity towards him. But Barrett couldn't deal with A.J. being his normal half naked over confident self all the time. A.J. was over 6’5 tall and stacked with well toned muscle. Unlike a lot of linebackers he was pure muscle, his six pack abs have been several stories high on a billboard in Times Square only last summer. With Barrett’s new found attraction to muscle he was struggling to control himself around A.J. He knew it was going to be hard the second A.J. arrived home, his big brother pulled off his coat to reveal a skin tight tank top. Barrett’s eyes followed his brothers pecs as they rose with each breath, the tank straining against them. Barrett then found his face pressed between them as A.J. pulled his sick little brother into a hug. There had been other incidents and they all could have been avoided if Barrett hadn't tried to be like his old self. He was forcing himself to be more confident, like the old Barrett, so he was finally leaving his room which just put him in line for running into A.J. The amount of times he’d be walking down a hallway, his eyes staring at the ground, and then he walk straight into A.J. ripped sweaty abs. A.J. never saw him coming, his big brother was always looking right over tiny Barrett’s head. Barrett was woken at 6am one morning by A.J. who just burst into his bedroom. Barrett sat bolt upright, his eyes level with the overstuffed Calvin Klein briefs that A.J. had gotten for free after a modelling shoot. “Hey bro, sorry about waking you” A.J. boomed rubbing sleep from his eyes, his bicep bulging just as much as his briefs “I’m heading out for a jog and I haven't packed anything with support” To show what he meant A.J. gave his bulge a little heft, it bounced and pushed the fat soft head of dick up against the fabric. “Ok” Barrett said simply, crossing his skinny legs under his covers Even though his erection was unnoticeable beneath the heavy sheets, he wasn't taking any chances. The smell of his room still set him off, but he thought what if now instead of imaging his old self when he inhaled his old musk he began picturing the underwear clad muscle giant in front of him. To make things worse as A.J. breathed his abs tightened and he bounced a pec impatiently. “Sooooo” he asked elongating the word This knocked Barrett’s attention from his big brothers brick sized stomach muscles and back up to his chiselled face. “So what” Barrett asked, trying not to focus his attention to his brothers jaw line A.J. sighed and dropped his meaty ass, which was barely covered by his briefs, onto the bed. The mattress sagged and Barrett rolled towards his brothers vast toned back. “You got a jock, or some compression shorts” A.J. questioned “You know, I could knock myself off running without support…. like you used to be able too” A.J. continued like he hadn't just rubbed salt on to Barrett’s still bloody wound. “I know you got rid of most of your old clothes, but are you sure you don’t have anything for me you could….. well it would be a hand me up, wouldn't it” A.J. chuckled at his own joke Barrett shook his head, but his eyes fell on his old jockstrap. It sat on his desk, next to his console controller. He’d been sniffing it only last night, thinking about the difference between his brothers and the housekeeper’s son Andre’s pecs. A.J. spotted where Barrett was looking. He pulled himself off Barrett’s bed and the floorboards creaked beneath his oversized feet. He quickly scooped up the jock and stretched it out in his hands. “It’s a bit small for me” A.J. boasted “But thanks bro” A.J. crammed his legendary equipment into the jockstrap and left the room for his jog. Barrett just signed, he slightly wanted to go watch his brother change, but he killed that thought quickly. He was going to return to sleep, but his phone buzzed as a new email arrived. It was from his college, their newsletter. Barrett wouldn't have ever read it before his change, but now he read every email he got, which wasn't many since his social life had collapsed. His eyes widened as he opened it. The email was fronted with a family crest, one he recognised from the few times he’d journeyed into the campus library. He’d only ever been there to pick up chicks, from his experience nerdy girls were always crazy in bed. It was the crest of the Haber family. Barrett was sure he’d heard that name a few times and not just from the library, he thought he heard his father mention it once or twice. The email’s title was interesting. “Lincoln University- From Salem to Campus” “A history of myth, legend and witchcraft” ——————————————————————————————————————————— Sean returned to campus sooner than he’d wanted too, he just couldn't deal with his family anymore. He’d always been close to them, but now that he was different they were clinging to him all the time. His father was adamant that Sean should try out for some sport, preferably football. Sean just couldn't handle all the attention. So he wasted money on a new train ticket, ignoring the one he had for next week and jumped on the train. His dingy dorm room was a welcome sight. He could have sworn the odd cactus’ flower even opened and oozed its strange sap like it was it happy to see him. Sean opened up his bag and eagerly set up his PlayStation, but as it turned on it started to update. The dorms horrible internet connection meant the update was going to take over three hours. Sean just sighed and started to unpack his clothes, he’d thrown out all the clothes he’d brought home and only had the new clothes he’d received for Christmas. He was currently wearing snug jeans and a chest hugging sweater. It was one of the only outfits he felt normal in, nothing like the naked feeling he had when he wore the skin tight workout gear he’d been gifted with. Sean smirked when he spotted the Captain America shirt. He’d forgotten he’d dumped it on his bed before he left. Though he thought it had been blue beforehand, now it was an odd shade of green. The blue and red shield on its front was stained green and the sky blue colouring had turned a lime colour. He sniffed the shirt gingerly, it reeked of his room. A nice familiar smell, a mix of the musky air and the slightly floral stench of the cactus sap. Maybe the colours had just run in the wash. Sean remembered a faded pair of green socks he’d tossed before Christmas, must be wear the green dye had come from. Above Sean a vein of elixir pulled itself back to the edge of the ceiling safely out of view of Sean. Sean draped the shirt over his desk chair and pulled off the warm sweater. He quickly checked himself out in his dorm rooms mirror. He couldn't help but smile at his abs, he even tried to bounce his chest, but there wasn't any movement, they just tightened. He lifted the shirt off his chair and gave it another sniff, his PS4 only on 4% download. His jaw was stained green as he pulled the shirt away from his hair. Red hairs had already started to sprout over his jaw. Sean quickly pulled the shirt over his head, it was a little tight. The shirt reached his waist, but clung to his chest and arms. He pulled at the collar, trying to loosen the high neckline. He kicked off his shoes and pulled his socks off, they were sweaty from the long train ride. Sean undid the buttons of his jeans while scratching at his jaw, he was surprised he needed to shave already. His jeans struggled to get past his thighs and then his calves, they’d been tight, but hadn't been so clingy. He pulled at his briefs, trying to get the fabric off his packed in balls. Sean sighed at the thought that he’d have to go out and buy a larger pair of jeans so soon after getting this pair. He really needed to get his head around how to wash clothes, he kept shrinking them or ruining the colour like his Captain America shirt. He checked his PS4, now it was up to 19%. Sean’s vision went fuzzy for a moment then returned with increases clarity, he blinked a few times in response to the weird change in vision. He couldn't see himself, but Sean’s eyes are brightened into deep emeralds. Sean rubbed his eyes, thinking he was just tired. He didn't noticed the light green staining fading away on his hand that he’d just scratched his chest with, nor did he notice that the hand was also slightly larger than the other. Sean almost fell over as his chest tightened, pain pulling his pec muscles and admirals inwards. He collapsed onto one knee, one hand gripping his bed and the other clutching his chest. The Captain America shirt was splitting done his back, his neck fighting against the skin tight collar. Sean pushed himself back to his feet, his legs throbbing as they magically thickened. The leg holes of his briefs strained against the muscles, and pushed against his ass as it rounded out into a boulder of muscle. Sean was knocked onto his back as the shirt burst apart. The thud of his growing mass echoed throughout his room and down the dormitory corridor. His pecs had exploded outwards in size, going from tight pecs into a shelf that you could balance a drink on. Small slithers of blue cotton fluttered in the air, the tattered remains of Captain America’s shield rested in the grooves of Sean’s brick like abs and the crevice between his slab like pecs. The green stain was gone, having been drained to fuel Sean’s growth. Sean’s mitt like hands grabbed at the carpet, his teeth gritted as pain rocketed through him. His bones creaking as they stretched longer and thicker. The remains of the shirt slipped beneath his widening back as his bowling ball shoulders popped the seams of his sleeves and finally destroyed the too small shirt. His biceps bloated by several inches, flexing even through Sean’s arms were held straight out. Hair grew down between his abs and joined up with the rich pubes that spread out from his now too small briefs. His bulge, which was already a hearty endowment looked obscene now. His growth was not focusing on that area, the imprint of his fattening balls rolled around in the overstuffed pouch. His briefs were tented upwards by an ever growing trunk of sexmeat. The pain that rocked Sean’s body died and he signed with relief, his voice husky and deep, as his briefs burst. His horse like equipment swung around splattering the surrounding area with thick pre cum. Sean took a few deep breaths, his pecs rising and falling, the light of his PS4 glittering off his sweaty chest hair. Then with fury in his eyes Sean started to jack his fat bull cock with his dinner plate hands, his grunts and groans roaring out into the dormitory and through his dorm rooms thin walls. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Chris returned to college with a reinforced wariness of the elixir. It wasn’t some simple muscle potion like he’d feared, the changes it caused appeared to not measure up to what was promised by his ancient spell book. But he wouldn't give up on it, he just needed a few more tests so he could work out the rules. Magic always had rules, ways in which it operated which could ruin everything if you didn't understand its nature. He already had a plan ready before his family’s private jet took off from the tarmac in Europe to take him back to America. Chris dosed three water bottles with the elixir, bottles which Chris had stolen from the college gym during workouts there last semester. They had the college logo on and would blend in with the untainted bottles the gym offered to refresh its users. He took the bottles to the college gym and mixed the dossed bottles in with gym’s normal water bottles. The gym was a lot quieter now thanks to the draining of the football team, so Chris was able to record who went in and out over the course of one day. This was grunt work that Melvin should of done, but the blond nerd wasn't even back yet, so Chris had to wait around an entire day. Chris recorded 17 different people enter and leave the college gym, half of them left with water bottles in their hands. Chris would find them over the next couple days. He had his fingers crossed that Yuri didn't get dossed, he didn't want that cocky Russian to end up huge. Though there were a few people he didn't really recognise, he had to do some snooping of the gym’s membership files to find out who they were, which while illegal was a perk of being the son of college’s largest donor. One scrawny black kid turned out be a 20 year old who was the football teams equipment manager, Thaddeus Stern, which was a name that didn't fit the guy at all. Chris thought the guy had gotten drained when he cleaned up the teams jockstraps when they’d first been dosed with the powder. A quick check of Thaddeus’ Facebook found that he had always been short and scrawny. Plus the jockstraps could only drain the first person to touch them or their relatives. When Chris returned to his dorm room after a long day spying his nose wrinkled at the musky smell wafting out from the room next door. A TV inside sounded out loudly, Chris vaguely remembered the guy who lived there, he was tallish, a slim build, red hair, he was kinda cute. He must of gotten back and forgot to clean up the mess he’d left last semester. Chris should have just knocked and mentioned it to the redhead, but the chance to use his family’s power was too good an opportunity to waste. So he wrote an email to the Dean’s office about the smell, he knew the Dean would get it sorted out within days. The red headed idiot had most likely left some filthy clothes out or some half eaten food had been left out to rot. Though Chris had a nagging feeling that he recognised the musky, overpowering smell. But before Chris could consider it more his phone buzzed and Melvin’s name appeared on the screen. He nearly jumped at it, eager to explain his ideas to his absent roommate. “Melvin” he called down the phone, he was already passing the room. “Where the hell have you been? I thought you were coming back days ago… but never mind that.” He took a breath and started to explain. “I dosed a few of water bottles at the athletic department’s gym, I have a list of who uses the gym, they would have access to the water bottles,” he breathed and then started again “So I can see how it affects them, because I have a theory, I think the elixir doesn’t do what we think it does, I tested it out over Christmas and the result was horrific…” He paused, Melvin was silent on the other end. He must be angry that Chris had broken the promise not to use the elixir. “I know, I broke my promise, sue me,” he continued. “But I think these water bottles will prove my idea. I think the elixir has rules on how it changes people. I just need some more test subjects to prove it.” Chris stopped and waited, a few seconds passed before Melvin replied. “Chris… we need to talk,” a voice that didn't sound like Melvin replied, it was deep, rumbling and very masculine.
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  33. Hello everyone! So I’m very into superheroes, and into muscle/power theft. The following story is the prelude to a character that I’ve imagined. The story involves muscle theft, heroes and villains, mild violence, and sex. If you want an approximation of “Bael” I’d say Simeon Panda is a close fit for what I’m imagining. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. I’m going to follow up with Bael’s adventures destroying heroes and getting defeated now and again. If you’d like to be featured as a hero and/or have an idea for an original hero, please PM me. I’m happy to be flexible with ideas (and also welcome the chance to test Bael’s limits). Anyway, please enjoy. -- The first reports were that the men who had been excavating on the project had met a grizzly end. Four scientists had unearthed a slab of rock with strange carvings just outside of Duckwater. There were no reports of Native American activity—which made the find altogether strange, meaning more that someone had placed the artifact there on purpose. They were found close to a week after the find—their radios had gone silent, and the university that had sent them via grant had a state patrol head out to find them. Their bodies had been “licked clean”, or so it would have appeared. Just skin and bones, faded grey, withered to almost nothing. He’d never seen a thing like it. Simon had been watching the news and taking careful note of what they were reporting. The eighteen year old was a wunderkind—the most athletic of his classmates by far, and generally handsome. Tall, over six feet, two hundred and ten pounds, a monster for anyone his age. He’d gone through a quick puberty, or so he told everyone. Hitting the gym, good nutrition, all the secrets that hid the truth. When he was sixteen, he’d been out joy riding in the desert too, and found a crafted necklace waiting in the sand for him, just a short walk from where his car had gotten a flat tire. The black obsidian necklace had gleamed in the sunlight, almost pulsating—as though it wanted to be picked up. Simon had put the thing around his neck before even knowing what was happening. He remembered how he’d been lifted into the air, the pain that filled his body. A whole cloud of dust seemed to circle around him, and then the world stopped. He’d had a vision—a trip that he thought may have been brought on by some of the pot he’d smoked—of a muscular figure standing in front of him, a tall man with rippling abs and a wide back. He spoke to him, the words now almost forgotten, that Simon had been chosen as the Guardian, and that he needed to protect those from evil that lurked. He’d have many test of his strength, but he would be able to use his powers for good. The necklace would instill in him immense strength and vitality. He had awoken next to his car, drenched in sweat. Already he was twenty pounds heavier, and could feel the strength in his arms, his legs. The necklace had shattered into pieces in front of him—his power would flow through him, granting him all that he had ever wanted. Of course, the young man he was, he couldn’t just abandon his studies. He was just finishing high school, all the world watching as he began his transformation into a mutant of power and size. His peers gawked as the muscular figure that walked through the halls, and whispered about how strange it was he grew so quickly. There was talk of steroids but all those that knew Simon knew he didn’t do anything but eat healthy and work out often. He was just an anomaly, one that would certainly be granted a full scholarship on his athletic prowess wherever he felt like going. That evening was different. He could feel the strange tingle rush through his body, the thought that there was something that shouldn’t be there. Another artifact, perhaps one like his, had been found. Something with power, something that could threaten the residents of his small town. He knew, somehow, that this would bring him into the fray. He flipped the switch on his television set in his room and sat for a minute, thinking. He needed to go for a drive—maybe to the twenty-four hour gym. He could clear his mind. There was a line of police tape waiting for him there—two more men had fallen to whatever strangeness was happening. “Can’t cross, I’m afraid.” The office at the tape waved to Simon, who’d gotten out of his car to gawk. Another officer had set up a lap top with his compatriot, and they were streaming a video. They both gasped at the sight they saw. Simon peered over their shoulders. The small town law enforcement didn’t mind—Simon was, after all, something of a local celebrity when it came to high school sports. The security footage was the first determination that something was awry. The two men had been working out—amateur bodybuilders in stature, working out late. Another man entered into the building, wearing nothing but what looked like a loincloth. His black skin was pierced with sweat. His shoulders were impossibly wide and his waist incredibly small; he put the men working out to shame. They looked and laughed at his attire, to which the figure simply stopped and stared. He moved closer to them, and the men began to say something. It didn’t last long – the figure pointed at one and had him in the air, as though lifted by an unnatural force. The other soon was grabbed by the neck with his fist. He looked on in horror as his figure shrank, his biceps deflating, his chest receding. All the while the figure’s eyes grew red, his muscles more taught. When he finished with one, he moved to the other. He tossed both of their bodies aside before exiting the gym. “The fuck was that,” One said to another. Simon was wide eyed, his stomach now turning over. He felt strange—whatever this creature was, he was nearby. He would strike again, and he needed to be stopped. “We have to find him,” Simon said to no one, the police now wondering what he was talking about. “And who are you?” The short one asked, an eye brow raised. But Simon had already raced to his car and started the engine. He didn’t know where he was going—only that he could feel that he was being drawn by whatever was going to strike. -- He cut the engine along highway 39, not far from the water tower. He wasn’t sure what made him come here, other than the tensing of his muscles. He was no hero—never claimed to be one, anyway—but he’d seen the men and women on television. The ones in spandex, saving their cities and town from certain destruction. He’d been given a gift, and it was time for him to use it. He would bring the villain to justice—stop whatever this thing was. Justice. That’s what he would call himself. It was a suitable enough name. One that was honorable and campy enough for a young man. He got out of his car and walked toward the water town, his chest suddenly flexing. He grit his teeth—it was as though his whole body could feel the urgency of this encounter, that he needed to call upon whatever well of strength that he had. His tee shirt began to rip as his muscles expanded. His jeans started to tear until he was in his boxer briefs. His hulking, muscular form exposed to the warm night air. He would have to work on getting a costume before taking on more villains. “You’ve come for me?” A voice rang out across the landscape, and Justice could see the hulk emerge from behind one of the water tower columns. He narrowed his eyes and grinned at the young hero. “I don’t even know who the fuck you are,” Justice spat out, “But I know that I’m supposed to be the one to put you down.” The man raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms across his chest. “Oh really? Why don’t you just call me Bael. We can start with that. Until you’re just a part of me, like everyone else.” Simon cocked his head at this remark. What did he mean? “You going to go quietly, or am I going to have to punch your face in?” He flexed again, feeling more powerful than even when he’d put on the necklace. It all made sense—meeting this man, starting his life as a hero. This would be his big break; this would be the start of what he was born to do. He knew it. “Go ahead.” Bael put up his hands, and then placed them on his hips. “Give it your best shot. The first one is free.” Justice sneered. He hated people that were this cocky; he hated anyone that thought they were god’s gift. He clenched and unclenched his fists. “With pleasure.” He took off in a run, ready to get a swing at whatever this thing was, his shoulder leaned in, his fist cocked back. He put the full force of his might into the punch, and connected to Bael’s stomach. The man crumpled some, leaning back, shoved backwards in the sand. The dust rose, and Bael coughed. Justice didn’t wait for a response, and threw another punch into his chest, and then one into his face. The man stumbled backward again. He didn’t let up on the punches, another finding his stomach and then his chin. He cocked back one more time, before Bael caught his fist in his right hand. There it stayed. “You ever think that feeling you got, telling you to come out, to find whoever did those horrible things, may have been a warning?” Bael whispered to Justice. He tried to swing his other fist, but this was caught too. He suddenly felt powerless—this strange, overwhelming warmth that trapped him in Bael’s fists. He closed his eyes and tried to pull away. “Nnnnnng….” He grunted, sweat now dripping from his body. Bael stepped forward and twisted the boy’s wrists. “You’re practically delicious. I haven’t had a meal in so long… it’s a good thing I found you, you’re a perfect appetizer to start with.” Bael grinned. In a fluid motion he slid behind Justice and clamped his hands onto the hero’s chest. Justice’s eyes snapped open and he let out a gasp. He couldn’t move. He could hardly do anything but feel the villain’s massive form pressing against him. He coughed, and found it hard to breathe. “W-what… what are you doing to me?” He managed to get out. He tried to concentrate, to call on whatever power he’d been given, but each time he could feel Bael’s grip tighten. “I was locked away long ago—for taking the strength from more than mortal men. But I was freed by mistake. And now that I’m free, I’m going to make myself strong again by taking down people like you.” He sneered, his words were like ice. Justice could do nothing in his grip. He flex his pecs tense underneath Bael’s hands and cried out. He moaned, weaker still. At last the villain let go of Justice, letting him fall onto his knees in the dirt. The villain stood over him, and cast a shadow. Justice took deep breaths, and rested on his hands. He could barely hold himself up. He needed to escape, he needed to… “Oh you’re not going anywhere,” Bael had grabbed the hero by his right ankle and put a stop to any chance he’d had. Justice fell flat onto the ground. “I don’t let anyone escape—you’re going to become a part of me. And I’m going to take everything from you. That’s how this works.” The loincloth was removed to reveal Bael’s massive member. He pressed close against the fidgeting hero, his massive glutes already slicked with sweat. He let out a moan as he felt the demon—was that what he was—press against his tight hole. He could do nothing but close his eyes as the man began to penetrate him. He could feel the thick, long cock burrow into him, pressing deeper and deeper. The gigantic tool pressing apart his glutes with ease, welcomed in by the hero’s ass. He gasped—pleasure coming then, as though he shouldn’t resist what was happening. His own cock began to spring upward. The warmth was flowing through his body, his muscles twitching with excitement. “F-fuck…” he could do nothing against the heavy thrust of Bael. He moaned with every inch he took. He was puddy in his hands as the villain grabbed at his shoulders and forced himself deeper and deeper. He could feel his strength melting from him, his mind growing hazy. “Become one with me, hero…” Bael whispered in his ear. “Join me and give me the strength I need to take down more heroes…” “Oh god…” Justice moaned. Bael’s cock was getting thicker, digging deeper. He only wanted more, he wanted to submit to him. He wanted to become him, he wanted to join with his muscle and strength. And it was then he could feel his tree trunk legs shrinking, his chest deflating. He could fell his biceps fail him. “Part of you…” “The final blow…” Bael leaned in to thrust deep. He placed his hands onto Simon’s cock and closed his eyes. The inexperienced eighteen-year-old couldn’t help himself. He began to blow his hot, creamy load into Bael’s hands. He cried out as he came, over and over again. He couldn’t stop—what was happening to him? “That’s it… that’s it!” Simon’s eyes grew wide as the world started to grow dark. This was to be the origin of Justice, the super muscled superhero. But now he had failed, his body skin and bones. His dick sprayed out a few final drops—and he was finished. Bael slid his long, python cock out of the finished meal and stood. His body slick with sweat, he breathed in the last of the essence of the hero in front of him. This was just the beginning. This, my friends, was the rise of Bael, and the fall of all who would stand in his way. --
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  34. Sorry for the wait, back at school and its kicking my ass. Here's part four. It was gonna be one large part covering all of Christmas break, but I came up with too many ideas for Christmas, so its gonna be two parts. Thanks for reading. Read Part One HERE Read Part Two HERE Read Part Three HERE Liquid Manhood Chapter Four The Christmas Break had come, Thanksgiving had passed with Melvin leaving Chris alone with the elixir. Surprisingly Chris hadn't used it, and it appeared that the large jar was filling a lot slower now. The size draining jockstraps were either not being used anymore or had drained all they could. Melvin hadn’t seen any of the jocks running around, or he didn't recognise them anymore. Chris had vanished off one night, having locked up the jar with a padlock, so that Melvin couldn’t get at the elixir. He’d made them both promise not to take any of the elixir and use Christmas break to think out a plan. Melvin though was too curious about the elixir, so he’d learnt how to pick the lock It took him two nights, but he was able to get the padlock off the jar. He turned the faucet and filled up a sample cup of green liquid. He made sure he replaced the padlock. He even remade Chris’ bed after he’d messed it up by standing on it to get at the magical filled jars. Before Melvin left he searched the room for the leather bound magic book, he hadn't seen it in over two weeks. Chris must of hidden it, he knew he hadn't taken it, Melvin had pretty much packed Chris’ bags for him. He found a lockbox under Chris’ bed, he gave it a shot with the lock pick, but his parents turned up to collect him before he could get it open. Melvin returned the box and wrapped the sample cup in some clothes before gently packing it away in his bag. He locked up the dorm room and headed down to meet his parents, eager to get away from the dorms and out of Chris’ shadow so he could get a good look at the magic liquid in his bag. ——————————————————————————————————————————— He’d watered the strange cactus that sat erect and proud on his desk, he’d turned all his electronics off and even cleaned his room. Two bulging bags of empty bottles and candy wrappers were carried out to the trash only this morning. Sean’s PS4 was packed away. He wished he could bring his TV, but it would have to wait for him here in his dorm room. His one piece of luggage for the train ride home was more videos games than clothes. Mostly because very few of his clothes fit him anymore, Sean’s growth spurt was still continuing and didn't show any sign of stopping. He was already 6’3 and his body had leaned out, all the extra fat gone from his frame. His stomach was flat and he’d spent nights jerking off while feeling the light ridges of his now visible ab muscles. His hair was now permanently styled, even in the mornings he looked like he’d just had a stylist go through it with all manner of products. Sean’s skin was still pale, but like marble and completely clear of spots or blemishes. Sean was now getting a lot of looks, he knew whatever was happening, a second puberty or something, it had changed his face more than anything else so far. His lips were pouty and his jaw had squared slightly. The loss of his fat had allowed cheekbones, that Sean never knew even existed, to strengthen the bone structure of his face. In class he’d found girls giving him longing stares, he’d just smile nervously and they’d melt. He was getting a lot of people asking for tutoring, which wasn’t a surprise to him, as he was top of his class, just now he caught girls popping a button on their shirts before they came to ask him. The guys were a bit different in their reactions to him, he was getting invited to more parties and even a few of the sporty frats were making enquires if he wanted to consider joining. He’d attempted to play frisbee with a few guys after class once, entirely because of one boy with big eyes and ass that bounced when he walked. He was very nervous, but found himself catching the frisbee every time, even running to catch it. Sean had never exercised in his life, or even played a sport, but he was good at frisbee. He’d never played it since then, his sudden skill and athletic ability had scared him. Sean was spending all his time in his room, even though he now looked like the guys he jerked off over he was unwilling to try his new looks out. Sean zipped up his luggage, tossing a shirt with Captain America's shield plastered across it that wouldn't fit inside his bag onto his bed. He checked that he had his train ticket, it was in the back pocket of his jeans. Which were being pushed out by Sean’s ass having gone from a fat mess to a tight rounded perky butt. He gave his room one last look over, the green tinge that everything seemed to have was so familiar to him, he didn't even know that no other room in the dorm building looked like his. Sean left, locking his door behind him. A slow drip started the second the door clicked closed, a green stain started to spread across the light blue fabric of the shirt Sean tossed onto his bed. ————————————————————————————————————————— The house was emptying, the fraternity has already lost a few members, not because they had returned home for Christmas, but because they’d left the university all together. Danny had been the first, he’d lost over a foot of height and could barely run without losing his breath. It had been horrible to see him shrink, going from a guy who could run miles without breaking a sweat to wheezing after walking up some stairs. The college reacted pretty quickly, calling in many doctors. A viral disease that caused genetic damage, primarily bone contraction, hormone deficiency and muscle wastage was the official reason for the sudden collapse of the Lincoln football team. They’d even had the Center for Disease Control turn up, taking blood samples and running tests. They’d concluded it was something in the athletic department, so the entire place had been closed for nearly a month as it was deep cleaned and tested for anything and everything, but the damage had already been done. Coach Peters had suspended the football team and more or less abandoned all of them as he tried to rebuild from the slim pickings left on campus. Big Ben, or just Ben as he was being called now was probably taking the changes the best. He peeked out of his window down at his frat brothers being collected by their parents. The unaffected towering above a few dozen tiny slim boys. Guys of their size used to get Ben rock hard, but now his monster cock was tiny. He could jack it with two fingers when he used to need two hands. His tastes had changed along with his stature. Ben found himself getting rock hard around his still big frat brothers, he’d also spend every jerk off session of his with his face buried in his old jock strap. Sniffing in the musk of his old horse cock. Speaking of his new tastes, Yuri was on his bed. Shirtless, his toned swimmer's torso glistening with sweat. The taste of Yuri’s cum still lingering in Ben’s mouth. Ben had dropped straight facade and found that no one gave a shit that he was gay. Yuri was becoming a regular in Ben’s room nowadays, he was adamant he wasn't gay, but he sure loved to fuck Ben’s tight throat. Ben was holding out for the chance to ride Yuri’s Russian meat stick, but Yuri was the cum and go kind of guy. “What you looking at” Yuri asked, checking the time on his phone Ben turned and walked back to the bed, perching his slender ass on the edge. “Just watching the guys leave” He replied, his voice no longer a rumble It was almost musical, but only a few days ago it was jumping octaves, like his voice was breaking all over again. “You not gonna be lonely in this big house all by yourself” Yuri asked, poking Ben with a foot playfully Ben chuckled “I’ll be ok, got all those chores to keep me busy, Mr President” Yuri had taken over as Frat President, Barrett had quit last week. Ben was sure the diminishing quarterback wasn't going to come back to college after Christmas. Yuri though was very happy with the new arrangement, and seeing as Ben was the only one remaining over the holiday he’d given a long list of chores for Ben to do. Since around half the frat had almost halved in size the odd jobs had gone from being a ‘everyone pull your weight’ thing to a ‘do what I say shorty’ affair. Ben was sure that was a major part to why a lot of the football team had left college, they just couldn't deal with the sudden change in their social standing, Ben though was used to it. He had three brothers, all big like he'd been. He was used to being at the bottom of the ladder, though just not as far down the ladder as he was now. Yuri laughed loudly, sitting up and ruffling Ben's hair “Good boy” Ben blushed, his cock stiffened a little in the gym shorts he borrowed from Danny before he quit college. He still had to pull the drawstring as tight as possible to make them fit. “I’ve still got an hour before I have to leave for my flight” Yuri said, his cock rising up Ben licked his lips, his eyes running over the length of the seven inch dick in front of him. He remembered when he was nearly that big soft. “You want to suck a couple loads out before I go” Yuri asked already pulling Ben’s head down into his lap Ben didn't even have a chance to reply before his mouth was full of cock. —————————————————————————————————————————— Chris was spending Christmas on the Haber family’s personal yacht. The Gold Standard, a pure white ocean going monstrosity with gold highlighting. It was a triumph of affluence and gaudy taste in decoration. He was alone with just the crew and a gaggle of tag along ‘friends’ as company. His mother was in Milan with her Italian lover that she didn't think anyone knew about and his father was probably running the universe from his office in the Haber building on Wall Street. He was sailing along the French Riviera and had already lost what most people would make in a year at one of casinos in Monaco. Like Melvin he’d broken the promise not to use the elixir. He’d filled himself a few sample cups and was continuing his tests, still uneasy and unsure about the nature of the green liquid. Chris had already dosed one of his ‘friends’, a picture perfect European boy of noble birth for a title that didn't exist anymore. His family ran an arms company or something. He was Swiss, or maybe French, Chris didn't know, only that he claimed to be in line for the French crown. Jean was slim, short, but with a head of rich brown curls and bright silvery grey eyes. Chris couldn't deny an attraction, and if the boy was more interesting he’d might of made a move. Instead Jean became a target, but it had been the luck of the draw. Chris had dosed a glass of champagne on the first night he’d arrived in Europe, and it was Jean who took it from him. The changes took a few hours to take hold, firstly Jean appeared to be develop a fever. He was sweating buckets as the party started on the yacht’s deck. Then the exhaustion set in. Chris had even helped Jean to his cabin, the crew almost in shock at seeing Chris help another human being. Chris would pop into Jean’s room throughout the night, trying to keep suspicions low by still appearing at his own party. Each time Jean was different, he hadn’t gotten any taller, but he’d bloated with beefy muscle. Becoming a fireplug of a man, his chest and arms thickening with muscle. His curls got longer, becoming a mane, though they lost their rich glossy colour. Darkening to a dull simple brown. His noble features, chiselled from years of selective breeding were hardening. Jean’s forehead jutted out, his jaw widening into a solid square. Hair was sprouting over his jaw and a tuff popped out from the collar of Jean’s shirt, which was struggling to hold back his enlarged pec and shoulder muscles. Chris could tell that hair was growing over Jean’s shoulders and down his stomach, he could see the mattered imprint appearing through Jean’s shirt. Chris even had to pull Jean’s shoes off, the changing boy looked in pain as his feet grew. Chris less worried about Jean’s wellbeing and more concerned with Jean waking up due to the discomfort. Jean’s feet now free of their shoes had already burst through his socks. The tattered remains clinging to his ankles. The feet though were hairy and massively oversized for possibly even a 7ft basketball player let alone a man of Jean’s small stature. Chris had Jean removed from the yacht, telling the crew that some gate crasher had got too drunk. He blocked Jean from his phone and had the boat moved to a new mooring, ignoring the complaints of guests who were now a fair distance away from their hotels and cars. Chris hadn’t expected the elixir to cause changes so uneven. Jean had grew massive muscles, but had stayed short. His features had hardened but there was no grace or manly beauty to them, just brutish shape. Chris would have to run some more tests, maybe he’d made a mistake with this elixir. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Barrett’s world had fallen apart, his friends were gone, his future in athletics were gone, and his family were treating him like a leper. When he returned home last week Barrett saw his father’s heart break, his dreams of creating a sporting dynasty were mostly dead. His mother was avoiding contact with him, which was easy to do when you lived in a mansion and Barrett never left his room. She did though leave food she, not the housekeeper, had cooked at his door. Barrett knew she cared, she probably just didn't know how to deal with everything. Barrett was barely 5’5 now. His entire body was now slender, near skeletal in some places. The muscle wasting disease had burned through Barrett’s body, nothing was left of the young stallion he’d been. He didn't even recognise himself in the mirror anymore, not only had the disease shrunk his bones it had cut away at Barrett’s chiselled bone structure. Barrett’s jaw was nearly nonexistent, his cheekbones were getting less pronounced by the day, like someone was smoothing them out while he slept. His bright eyes were darker now, his hair having taken on the texture of straw. He knew some guys had it worse, he had no idea what Big Ben must be going through, but then he hadn’t spoken to anyone from college since he left. He just lay in bed most of the time, though he’d taken to his old game console. He’d never really played it before, but it sure helped pass the time between sleeps. Barrett had even had a gaming headset and some new games delivered, he had an old picture of himself as his profile, so he could still pretend online he was a hunk. Apart from maintaining a sexy online persona Barrett had removed every other trace of his old self from his room. All the pictures were hidden away, his old sport trophies and framed high school quarterback jersey were packed away in the attic. His mother had brought him a load of new clothes, all sized for his tiny new body. His old wardrobe was either burnt to ashes or donated to goodwill, he had no idea what his dad had done with all the expensive designer gear. Barrett’s room looked alien to him now, look big and with a lot of empty space now that old Barrett was erased. He sunk into the imprint that his old self had left in the mattress, a new bed was the next thing Barrett wanted changed, and maybe new carpet. Barrett was sure his old smell was lingering in the carpet and it was messing with Barrett’s mind. It was the reason he kept getting rock hard at random times, his shrunken peanut cock getting turned on by his old self. He knew it was more that he was attracted to guys who were like he’d been. He liked muscle now, or at least athletic guys. Which made things weird when the housekeeper’s son came to see if he was ok. It was just him being nice to his mother’s boss's son, but it had screwed Barrett up a little. His name was Andre and Barrett knew he’d just left high school, he’d even gotten a full scholarship, which Barrett’s dad had helped him get. What was bad was the shape of Andre’s pecs against his shirt as he talked down to Barrett, who didn’t remember ever thinking of Andre as tall. Barrett had spent the rest of the day watching Andre from his window as the guy helped the elderly gardener rake leaves. This sudden attraction, or maybe it was an odd sadness at his own loss of manhood, must be why he kept his old jockstrap. He liked the smell, the stretched out pouch. He’d give it a sniff sometimes, or press his face into the cotton before remembering he used to be as straight as an arrow, banging multiple chicks at a time. Then his NFL player brother A.J arrived and things got worse.
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  35. Read Part One HERE Liquid Manhood Chapter Two The bed shook, the headboard banging against the wall. Big Ben liked having his fraternity brothers know when he was beating the monster. His battleship-sized feet hung off the end, his 50 inch TV blaring out the moans of some porn he’d stolen from another brother. But in Big Ben’s huge meaty hand was his phone, a blond twink choking down a fat cock drawing all of the giant linebacker’s attention. His other hand was furiously pounding at this swollen meat stick; his hearty bull nuts bouncing against the sweaty sheets. A load of cum was already drying on his heaving pecs. Big Ben was so grateful he wasn’t hairy. The flood of cum he shot every time he jacked off would’ve been hell to clean up. The look of his pecs having rich brown hair on would be sexy, and it only made Big Ben jack off harder. The room reeked of him, he was still covered in the gunk and sweat from practice the night before. He’d shower after he had come. After that he would wipe down his pecs, wishing he could get some guy to do it for him. He’d returned from practice and slept the rest of the day, more exhausted than usual. He could hear his brothers starting to wake, it was nearly time. Big Ben always timed his pre-shower strut so that he caught a couple of his brothers waking up. His heavy footfalls getting their attention as they wiped sleep from their eyes. They always laughed, though Big Ben could see some fear in their eyes as he thudded down the hall. Comments like, “Thank fuck my girlfriend isn't here” or “Taking the beast for a walk huh” would be uttered. Big Ben would just grunt or make some comment about the guy’s girlfriend. Then he’d get into the shower and as silently as possible he’d cover the tiles with cum thinking about doing the same to his fraternity brothers faces. Big Ben bit his lip as he shot. Cum splattering over the cold load from before, his balls unleashing an epic load. But Big Ben sat bolt upright, his hand looked odd on his cock, his fingers were wrapped around his fat cock, still rock hard and waiting to go for two or three more times. His fingers though were touching they hadn’t touched since he was 15. The floor shook as he got to his feet, wiping the cum off his thick chest with his blanket. He looked down as his now soft cock, the shock having killed his boner. It looked slimmer, not as salami fat as it used to. Even though he was near to grazing his head on the ceiling and making the oak floor struggle under his weight, he, Big Ben, the hulking linebacker, felt small. He grabbed his jockstrap from the floor and gave it a sniff, holding the reeking pouch against his face. The musk, his musk calmed him, the cotton tickling his stubbled jaw. He pulled it on, heading to the shower as quick as he could, for the first time in his life not wanting to be seen. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Melvin woke not to the sound of Chris’ alarm waking him hours before he needed to be woken, but to a horrific painful smell in his nose. He coughed and spluttered as he breathed in, it tasted like a locker-room. Reminding him of the smell of his fingers after handling Big Ben’s jock strap. “Good you’re awake” Chris said, he was already dressed and looked like he was heading out. Melvin let out some sort of sound that was meant to be words, but he was still too tired. “I’m going to check in on the jocks, I’ve got an hour or so spare.” He grinned, “Oh and check out Bert.” Melvin blinked a few times trying to get his eyes used to the bright light, Chris had opened the curtains and Melvin was blinded. He watched as Chris left, slamming the door. Melvin climbed out of bed, his baggy pajamas hiding his frumpy shape. He popped open a window. Must be the elixir making that smell. As he pulled back from leaning over the best he felt a strip of wetness spread down his shirt. It was Bert, or a cactus that must be Bert. Gone was the small little cactus, now a thick almost throbbing green foot of plant sat in the pot, two bulbous bulbs at its base. A large bright red flower had erupted at the tip, oozing ripe sap. Melvin sniffed the wet sap on his shirt, it smelt like the funk he’d woke up choking on. The door suddenly opened, Chris was back. “Bert…” Melvin started “He….” Chris butted in, “Looks like a penis. Yeah, I noticed” “So the stuff works,” Melvin asked excited. Chris nodded and stepped over to the desk picking up Bert’s pot, trying not to get reeking sap on himself. “What are you doing” Melvin asked following Chris as he headed to the door “I’m throwing Bert out, not having our room smell like a jockstrap,” Chris said and he turned, poking a finger into Melvin’s chest. “Don’t touch the elixir. We know what it does to a plant, but not what it does to humans.” Melvin nodded, “But can you buy me a new Bert?” Chris smiled sweetly, “Sure.” And he left, taking Bert with him, Melvin knew he’d never get a new one. ——————————————————————————————————————————— “19, 20, 21,” Barrett counted out loud as he continued his morning exercise routine,clad in only pajama shorts with the straps of his jockstrap peeking out from the waist line. His body dipped down and up with each push up, he was already sweaty, and feeling tired. He’d woken up refreshed, but oddly stiff, like he’d overworked himself at practice. But he hadn’t. He’d barely pushed himself. “25……..26...” he started, but his arms gave way half way through the last push up. He rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, the sounds of his frat brothers waking up echoing through the house. A second ago he’d heard the unmistakable sounds of Big Ben’s monstrous frame thudding past his room. He wondered if Big Ben was feeling just as odd as he was. It seemed that everyone at practice was off, and it wasn’t just because of the over partying on the weekend before. His room was massive, it had been his older brother’s when he was a member of the fraternity. A floor to ceiling mirror decorated one wall, hiding a closet. Barrett always hid how often he’d stare at himself in the mirror, flexing a bicep, arrogantly smirking at himself. But today as he sat up he looked at himself with concern. Even though he’d slept longer than normal he still looked tired. Greyish bags hung heavily under his eyes. Barrett stood up and stepped close to the mirror, flexing his bicep. It looked odd. It felt stiff, but looked softer. The skin wasn’t as taut over the muscle as it had been. He scratched at his balls with his free hand. “Gotta be sick,” he said to himself. He popped open the bedside table, ignoring the half full box of condoms he grabbed an assortment of pills. Throwing back his head he swallowed them down, covering all the bases: flu, allergies, headaches, he wasn’t letting this illness get any further. Barrett went to leave his room, time for breakfast, he stopped though and looked down at his ripped bare chest. He sighed, and like all the other footballers he grabbed something to cover himself up, unsure about his own perfection. He flexed his arm one last time, the sleeve of his shirt not near to bursting as his muscle bulged. He jogged down the stairs, whistling, putting on his cocky demeanour. The kitchen was alive with big beefy jocks grabbing their breakfast, barely any bare chests. Only the best built non-football players were shirtless. Barrett grabbed a piece of toast another brother had cooked for himself, the guy wouldn’t complain, at least not to Barrett’s face. He leaned against a kitchen counter, watching the group. His fraternity was a house of beasts, all the main guys from the football team in one place, and most of the other star players of other sports, with Barrett as the top dog. The rest of the football team’s massive roster were in lesser frats or lived off campus, Barrett couldn’t think of any freshmen still living in dorms, maybe one or two of the new guys hadn’t been sucked up by the fraternities yet. He scratched at his balls while he ate, his fellow football players looked just as tired as he was. Bags under their eyes, paler than normal. All with hunched shoulders and dim looks on their faces. “Gotta talk to Peters,” Barrett muttered Maybe they needed a break, whatever illness Barrett had looked to be spreading around the frat. He’d have a word with Coach Peters about an easier practice schedule. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Next door to Chris and Melvin, their rarely seen neighbour was still sleeping as the clocks passed noon. His name was Sean and he’d worked all summer so he could afford to pay for a single room. He didn’t want to share his personal space with anyone. His single room was dark with only the dull glow of his PS4 on standby lighting the room. The curtains were pulled tight and were dusty, never having been opened since he moved in. A plush gaming armchair sat in front of the rooms desk facing a large top of the line TV Sean had got from his parents for winning the scholarship to Lincoln University. An indent of Sean’s fat rounded ass was visible on the seat’s cushion, the fabric tainted with Dorito dust. Sean was a nerd, a massive gamer, and an avid reader of comic books. He was a stereotype. He was also a loner. He only left his dorm to use the bathroom, for classes and food shopping. He was greasy, spotty, and rounded with limp plump fat, but he was a nice guy. Always helping classmates in class, even though he hated public speaking. If he was a little more sociable he'd have a lot of friends, he’d already been invited to join a couple of fraternities and his professor wanted him to run for the student council, but Sean just wanted to be alone and play games with people on the other side of the world he’d never have to talk to. He was snoring loudly, the weight of his fatty chest causing the choke sounding rumblings as he lay on his back in bed. His greasy bright red hair plastered to his spotty forehead. Only his head was visible from behind the covers. He was only 5’6. Even the dorm room’s small single bed was too big for him. Drip, Drip, Drip. Drops of green liquid fell onto Sean’s blankets, above Sean a line of green was spreading over the ceiling. Rising up from a crack in the wall, a patchwork of vein like green stains were stretching out from behind a set of shelves cluttered with books and PS4 games. With an almost sentient intent the green liquid grew out over the ceiling, it drips moving further up Sean’s blankets till the drops started to land in Sean’s gaping maw. The drips increased in intensity, and size, soon it was like a steady stream trickling from the ceiling down Sean’s throat. He didn’t splutter or gag, the liquid quickly vanishing into the walls of his mouth and throat. But the taste was horrid, a foul salty taste. Like drinking cool sweat. Sean’s eyes fluttered behind his eyelids and the dripping stopped. In the dark though the green stains on the ceiling and the wall wasn’t noticeable, even with a bright light it would be hard to notice against the darkly painted room. Sean made a moaning sound and sat up slowly. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, a hand then wiping green liquid from his lips and onto his pajama shirt, thinking it was just drool. The chubby nerd climbed out of bed, his hand reaching for a cola bottle on the small snack table next to his gaming chair. He took a long swig from it and then dropped his fat ass onto his armchair. His console controller already in hand he flicked the PS4 on and started to play, he had a couple hours spare before class. With Sean’s attention on his gaming the green liquid snaked its way over the ceiling. A fat raindrop of the elixir fell, landing in the open cola bottle, just as Sean reached over to pick it up to take another sip. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Barrett was on the treadmill in the college’s expansive gym, he’d just gotten the shit verbally kicked out of him by the Coach. How dare he ask to lighten the load, the Coach had bellowed at him. He was even threatened with losing his captaincy, and again compared to his older brother. How his older brother would never have asked for something so stupid, especially when there was so much competition this year from other teams. He was being punished, half an hour on the treadmill. It was meant to be easy for Barrett, more a punishment that would screw up his schedule, but Barrett was struggling. It was like all his stamina was gone, he was sweating and panting. His balls were so itchy, the cotton of his jock rubbing his hefty balls and was making them beg for a scratch. He’d almost fallen over whenever he went to itch them, and it was messing with his mind. It was like when he was doing laps at practice, he just felt drained. He’d have to get an appointment with a doctor. He was sick. With still 10 minutes left Barrett slowed down the treadmill, now walking he coughed out and spluttered. He gripped his chest, under his toned pec muscles his heart was racing. He’d never been his unfit, he’d never struggled like this. His free hand scratched at his balls, they were overheating like the rest of him. Slick with sweat and so itchy, he’d have to wash his jock. His face was bright red as he dragged his worn out legs to a water fountain. His arms screamed as he braced himself against the fountain to take a dozen or so mouthfuls of cooling water. “Barrett” a voice asked Barrett stopped drinking and sighed, it was Yuri the captain of the college swim team. He was a frat brother. Barrett pulled himself up, standing tall to look down at his frat brother and rival. It was an unspoken rivalry, but Yuri had wanted to head the frat, but Barrett beat him to it. He was sure that Yuri hadn’t let it go. “Yuri” Barrett smiled “How you doing” He was trying to be cocky, trying to be Barrett, but he was still red faced and sweating through his shirt. “You ok” Yuri asked, the ripped half Russian looking amazing in his workout gear “You look sick” “Yea… I think I’m coming down with something” Barrett said dropping his attitude Yuri held out his full water bottle and Barrett took it. “I have a spare, drink this on the walk back” Yuri said with a smile Barrett knew it was sign of submission, he was showing weakness to someone he was fighting with, even if the fight was all in Barrett’s head. Yuri turned and headed further into the gym, Barrett watched him leave. He felt deflated, but he took a long swig from the water bottle. He took a few deep breaths, feeling his energy coming back. Barrett left the gym, his footfalls slow and laboured. His shirt felt a little loose, maybe it was just cause it was being weighed down by all the sweat. He scratched his balls, he had two things to do today get a doctors appointment and wash this itchy jock. First though he needed to sleep. He hadn’t planned on getting this worn out today, but if he had it wouldn't be on a twenty minute jog. He yawned as he stepped out of the gym and his shoulder thudded into a shorter very well dressed guy. “Sorry” Barrett muttered as he hurried pass The first time he’d apologised for such an action, usually he’d berate the other guy. Instead he continued back to the frat, swigging from the water bottle. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Chris stared as Barrett walked away from him. He rubbed his shoulder, Barrett was still solid, but the reaction was a change. He’d seen Barrett explode in anger after someone just looked at him wrong. But he apologised, the powder was working, not only draining Barrett’s size and strength, but taking more. It was sapping away at Barrett’s ego, his confidence, and it had only been a day. The powder worked fast, Chris could only imagine what would happen in a week or so. He sent a text to Melvin, saw Barrett the guy looks sick, it read. He was being careful, Chris didn't know where the magic book had came from. For all he knew there was an entire magical world which wouldn't look to kindly on him playing in their world. So he was being as normal as possible and he’d warned Melvin about doing the same. No mention of the stones or the plan on any computers or phones. Only the notes he’d written down in the magic book. He took a quick lap of the gym, only seeing Yuri the swim team captain on a rowing machine. Chris wondered whether he should move his sights onto the other sports team after the football team were drained. But then what would he do with all the elixir, it wasn’t like he and Melvin would need very much to get the bodies they deserved. That was if Chris even let Melvin have any elixir.
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  36. New story, been in the works and then forgotten about for a while. Came about after chatting to another member of the forum about how muscle-lost or muscle-theft wasn't getting much screen time here, so I thought I'd give it a shot. Got three parts written and got three more parts planned, tell me what you think Liquid Manhood Chapter One “Hold this” Chris ordered and stuffed the flimsy plastic bag into Melvin’s hands Melvin held the bag away from him, slightly wary of its contents. His hands like Chris’ were gloved not just to mask fingerprints but to stop any contact with the grey powder inside the bag. He was still unsure of the plan, but Chris had talked him into it. Melvin didn’t even think it would work, how could a powder do what Chris promised. “It’s gonna work” Chris said like he’d read Melvin’s mind “I’m sure it will” Melvin said his voice crackly like it had never fully broke during puberty “You saw what happened when I carved the symbols onto the stones” Chris stated turning back to look at his smaller roommate Chris stared down at Melvin, some menace in his dark eyes. He was trying to sense doubt, but Melvin won him over. Chris smiled and Melvin sighed internally. Chris could be intense at times. Melvin followed his roommate down the winding corridors of their university’s athletic department with the bag held an arm’s length ahead of him. The memory of the stones that the two had crushed into easy to transport powder was fresh in Melvin’s mind. They were just normal pebbles taken from the college green. But when Chris flicked out a pen knife and scraped strange runic symbols into the greyish surface of each pebble they changed. One blue, one red, one yellow and pink. Their hard grey surface flushed with their new colouring, and then how Chris had carefully crushed them with the but of his penknife. They reached the doors leading into their college’s locker rooms, a roaring cartoon lion had been painted on the doors. The Lincoln Lions, the 8 time championship winning football team. Chris hated them, and Melvin didn’t like them any better. Chris held out a lean hand and muttered something, there was a crack and the locked doors swung open. “The book hasn't failed me yet” Chris grinned and stepped into the dimly lit locker room. Melvin just nodded, the book scared him. Chris was obsessed with it, a massive, ancient, leather bound tome. He would spend hours reading it, translating vast passages into English, testing countless times the various spells and incantations, half of which barely worked. But this time it turned out the ‘lock pick’ spell worked just as it said it would. Maybe these ‘drain’ stones would work as the book claimed. “You’re more confident now aren't you” Chris said, and Melvin could hear the smile in his voice Chris strode confidently through the lockers. He knew what he was after. He must have staked out the place, Melvin thought. “Here we go” Chris said gleefully He pulled a wheeled laundry basket out from a small alcove between two rows of lockers and gently pushed it towards Melvin. “Hand me the bag” Chris ordered and Melvin passed it back “You search the laundry” Melvin nodded and watched as Chris tore the bag open. The grey powder pooled in the centre of the ripped plastic and Chris looked around for something to scoop the powder up with. Melvin started to look through the laundry for their desired prize and he grimaced. “Here, will this work as a scooper” He tossed a large sweaty athletic cup to Chris Chris frowned and let the cup drop to the floor before picking it up and scooping a cupful of powder out of the pile with it. “Ready,” he said as Melvin searched deeper pass the large jerseys and padded pants Wordlessly he tossed a jock strap over his shoulder, he’d rather bathe in the magical powder then touch the cock sweat soaked cotton. Chris grabbed at the jock eagerly and emptied the powder filled cup into the pouch. The powder glittered as it fell and then slowly seeped into the cotton as it made contact. Melvin watched... it was really working. “How….” He started. Chris anticipating his question started before he could finish speaking. “It’s the sweat, it’s why we needed to catch the laundry before it had been washed” Chris explained filling the cup again “The powder fuses with the fabric only if its been in contact with biological matter” “So the player's cock and balls,” Melvin said, tossing another jock over his shoulder “You got it,.” Chris smirked, tainting another strap with the powder Melvin knew he needed to find 83 different jockstraps to get the entire roster of players. Even then some might slip through the net. Their chances of getting them all had only been boosted because Coach Peters had ordered a full team practice in full uniform, the first one since the freshman year had started. Melvin knew that Chris had been ready to do this from the first day of the year, but he was waiting, waiting to get them all. He remembered when Chris had explained the plan to him, it was after he’d got drenched by a water balloon tossed by Barrett Wington, the golden blond captain of the football team and alpha frat boy of Lincoln University. Melvin knew Chris was manipulating him, getting him more and more angry at Barrett and the other jocks. Almost getting Melvin to beg for a way of getting revenge. He hadn’t expected such a massive plan, such a damaging plan, but at least he was getting back at Barrett and in turn every bigger man who had fucked with little shy Melvin during high school. “How many is that” Melvin asked, tossing another jock into the tainted pile. He’d already found another laundry trolley after emptying the last one of all the jock straps. “82,” Chris said. “Maybe one didn’t come,” he shrugged. Melvin gave the trolley one last look. “Nope… here it is.” He pulled the jock out from the laundry and hooked his fingers under the straps. It was a monster, a basket of cotton, and it reeked. “Who the fuck do you think packs himself into this,” he asked. “Damn,” Chris laughed. “Gotta be Big Ben.” Big Ben was a 6’10 linebacker, a walking wall. “You’d hope, cause no one else has the size to warrant a cock this big,” Melvin sniggered, tossing the tent over to Chris. It almost parachuted down into Chris’ hands, and, with a moment of thought, Chris poured what was left into the jock. “Big guy is gonna need a little more to bring him down,” He explained With the dirty jocks glittering slightly the two gloved freshmen tossed the jocks back into the laundry trolleys. They covered their tracks by pushing the trolleys back to their original places. “No evidence,” Chris said, washing the ripped plastic bag under a shower head before tossing it in the trash. Melvin nodded and traced his steps back, finding nothing to hint at their presence. The two left the locker room and, with a soft thud, the locks popped back into place as Chris pulled the door closed. “When will we know if it has worked,” Melvin asked when they returned under the cover of darkness to their shared room. “When the jars start to fill,” Chris said pulling off his gloves. The jars were four large glass cylinders with taps at the bottom. They sat on a high shelf on Chris’ side of the room. Each with a sticker with the different symbols of the stones they represented. Chris had explained that each symbol had a colour for what it would drain. Blue for Fortitude, or strength and agility. Red for Dominance, or attitude and power. Yellow for Stature, or size and grace. Pink for Virility, or looks and charm. These stones, when combined, would drain everything that makes a man a man. The inside of the jars had what Chris called a ‘condenser’ stone glued to the top. Chris had spent hours explaining the magic to Melvin since the start of the year. The ‘condenser’ would receive the stolen essence from the tainted jocks, and, in turn, the essence would drip down into the jars. When the jars were filling the taps would turn on and slowly empty the essence down the pipes into a larger jar on the shelf below. This jar was the ‘Master Jar’ as Chris kept calling it. The stolen essences from the four stones would combine into a complete manhood elixir. Chris would always end this explanation looking like he was about to cum. He was obsessed by it, but Melvin too was beginning to obsess over it too. “Should happen on Monday,” Chris explained. “There is a practice then, so it should start draining the first of the jocks then.” Chris dropped onto his bed and flicked off the light, leaving Melvin to find his own bed in the darkness. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Barrett swaggered down the corridor, his size 15 sneakers stomping across the floor. People stepped aside when he came towards them. It was almost enough to get his swinging cock hard. He was the big man on campus, a god, and part of a proud dynasty. Barrett Wington was only the latest Wington to come to Lincoln, but it was his older brother who’d left the biggest mark. Andrew Jackson Wington, or A.J. to most, was the captain who’d taken a terrible football team and made them champions. He’d started the team’s 8 year winning streak, which had continued under Barrett. He brushed a hand through his thick blond hair and then slapped his older brother’s football helmet which sat in a shrine outside the athletic department. It was a tradition, before every game and practice the helmet got slapped. But the shrine’s oversized picture of A.J in his Dallas Cowboys uniform made Barrett feel like he was a 10 year old again, only downside of being a Wington in Lincoln was that A.J would always be looking down at you somewhere. The guy was a hero, even though he’d only won two championships, while Barrett had won three. Then again, the added weight of three super-bowls really made A.J. a legacy to compete with. Barrett rolled his shoulders as he passed into the locker room, most of the guys were already there and changing. He stopped at his locker, his entire uniform was freshly washed and waiting for him. He smiled and started to strip. He decided to go shirtless today, the cheer team would be practicing on the other side of the field, he wanted to impress. Shirtless and with his tanned abs glistening under the locker room lights. He dropped his basketball shorts, his soft cock swung a little as he slipped his big wide feet through the straps of his jock and pulled it up. A chill ran down his spine, what the fuck were they washing these jocks in he wondered. He rearranged his packed pouch. “Better” he muttered in a smooth voice He led the team out onto the field and they started some stretches. His 6’4” frame appeared more bendy than many expected. Giving anyone watching a good view of his athletic ass as he stretched out his legs. The guys though seemed unfocused today, probably the hangover running through from the party on Saturday. “Light weights,” he muttered. A shadow fell over him. “What was that, boss,” Big Ben asked down to him. “Oh shit,” Barrett chuckled, spinning round. “How the fuck can you sneak up on someone?” Big Ben just laughed deeply and gave his crotch a tug. A grimace on his square face. “You ok,” Barrett asked then poked Big Ben in his solid stomach. “You feed that thing today?” Big Ben didn’t laugh. “Yea, I’m cool,” and he stomped over to do his warmups, the ground shaking with each massive step. Coach Peters appeared, a cigar in his mouth and a baggy sweat suit pulled over his flabby frame. “Boys…..” he bellowed and the team gathered Barrett gave his cock a scratch through his shorts as he jogged over. Big Ben looked like the monster was trying to escape with how rough he was rearranging himself. “It was a tough practice last week. No one let me down,” Peters continued chewing on the end of the cigar. “Today we are gonna be a little lighter, some cardio, then hit the gym.” Barrett smirked. “Some cardio” was code for “as many laps as you can do before you fall down and then five more.” Peters was a slave driver, a hard ass, but he was the best. Barrett led the pack of built, hulking athletes, his thighs flexing with each long stride around the field. He’d quicken his pace when he passed the cheerleaders though, get some distance between him and the other guys, make it look like he was always miles ahead. The entire time though he had this scratch at the base of his balls that he just couldn’t shake. No matter how many times he palmed his swollen nuts it was still there. “Man, I can’t go on,” Danny one of the players said as he caught up to Barrett. “Fucking off my game, I’ll see you in the gym.” Barrett slowed and watched Danny walk off the field.Others were joining Danny. “WHAT THE FLYING FUCK,” Coach Peters screamed at Danny. “My mother can run more laps and she’s been dead for decades!” Barrett winced. Peters could reach a high pitch when he was pissed. “Weird, isn’t it,” Big Ben said as he thudded to a stop next to Barrett. “Danny usually is the last to stop running.” “Fucking prides himself on it,” Barrett added. Both jocks scratched at their ample manhoods. “Something is up,” Barrett said and they looked curiously at each other. “No more parties,” Big Ben offered. “Damn right, can’t start getting sloppy,” Barrett answered and the two headed into the gym their hands deep in their sweaty jock pouches. ——————————————————————————————————————————— Melvin was crooked nose deep in a fantasy novel when Chris burst into the room. Chris was tall, about 6ft and very wealthy, dressed in all designer clothes he looked like he’d come off a runway usually. But today he was sweating, excited and red faced. “It’s happening,” he exclaimed and knelt on his bed and looked to the jars on the shelves. “What,” Melvin questioned, gently placing the book back on his own shelves above his bed. “I saw the football team in the gym. We should be getting some essence,” Chris said in a rushed voice. Melvin looked to the jars. They were filling, blue, red, yellow and pink liquid dripped from the stones at the top of the jars. About an inch of colourful liquid was filling each jars. “Shit,” Melvin said, awestruck. “I knew you doubted me,” Chris grinned as he checked out the master jar and its pipes. He pulled the jar back and then pushed it back further onto the shelf. He didn't want it falling off. A hairline crack appeared on the underside as it gently hit the wall, but neither Chris or Melvin noticed. With great excitement Chris turned the taps on each jar and the two roommates watched as the liquids slowly flowed down into the master jar. “Green,” Melvin said as the colours mixed and a rich emerald green colour emerged. “Never thought green would be the colour of manhood,” Chris chuckled lightly. Chris jumped past Melvin and grabbed Melvin’s potted cactus, “Bert”, from their shared desk. “What are you doing,” Melvin asked, trying to get Bert out of Chris’ hands. “Testing the elixir, we can’t just swallow it down, can we,” Chris explained. He held the pot under the master jar’s tap and turned on the flow, a couple drops oozed out and soaked into Burt’s surrounding dirt. Chris turned off the flow and handed Burt back to Melvin. “Give it till tomorrow morning,” Chris said and he just sat and watched the liquids mix. Melvin placed Bert back on the desk, next to “Ernie” his fellow potted cactus. “If Burt dies you’re buying me a new one,” Melvin sighed. Chris didn't respond.
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  37. Thanks for your support! I intend to keep this going and doing chapters as they come to me. May post another very soon. I'm also hopeful that people will volunteer ideas for heroes of their own making. If you've ever seen yourself as a superhero, or want to get defeated, feel free to PM or skype me! We could come up with the next chapter and have some fun!
    1 point
  38. The audience went wild as Jake Arness rode on stage. The hugely built muscleman wore only a loose pair of tattered jeans as he sat on top of a junky old motorcycle, his 285 lb bulk making the suspension visibly compress. The rippling beefcake dismounted and flexed his awesome muscles for the hundreds of horny men (as well as a few women) in the packed nightclub. His body was pure muscle pornography, bulging outgrageously with 25 inch thick biceps, titanic pecs, and huge flared thighs. Combined with his massive musculature was a gorgeous, clean shaven face topped off with a short cut mop of dirty blond hair. But what really caught the everyone's eyes was Jake's abdomen. It was so packed with muscle, so incredibly well-developed, that the horny crowd could hardly believe it. His stomach had a fantastically clearly defined six-pack, even when relaxed it was more contoured than a champion bodybuilders when flexed completely! Hundreds of men simultaneously became excited as their eyes traced over the muscular curves of Jake's awesome body. For his first feat of strength, the brawny stud bent over and hoisted the huge motorcycle up to his chest in a single powerful motion. Some in the crowd gasped, the others who already knew of Jake's impossible strength simply yelled and screamed their approval. Roaring for effect, the hugely muscled 24 year old overhead-pressed the 700 pound bike to thunderous applause. Flashing the crowd a dazzling smile he began pumping the heavy motorcycle up and down, wrestling it upwards again and again. Then, with the motorcycle resting high on his shoulders, he turned around to show a magnificent back wider and thicker than most doorways. He then began squatting the bike, belting out powerful reps with amazing ease and grace. Jake's jeans, ones that initially seemed several sizes too big, now swelled with expanding muscle has he quickly powered through nearly two dozen reps of super-heavyweight back squats. He turned around again and the audience gasped once more, partially at the sight of his thick quads jutting out from tears in his jeans, and partially at the sight of his semi-engorged horse cock, snaking its way down one pantleg. Jake was now the only person in the club without a boner, and yet he still possessed the longest and thickest dick in a room of 200 people. Jake, muscleboy extordinaire, smiled again and began exerting his immense strength against the poor motorcycle that lay across his vast shoulders. The steel frame visibly started to bend around his traps as he poured a small amount of his total power into it. Not wanting to completely destroy his prop, he let the bike fall to the ground, the impact making the floor of the club shake. Finally, he lifted it again and, with a masculine grunt, hurled it offstage where it landed with a deafening *crunch*. He began to flex proudly, puffing up his chest, eagerly showing off his pumped up body. While the sexy He-Man flexed for the crowd, stage-hands led 50 audience members onstage. They had been preselected for their size and strength, even the smallest of them weighed 180 lbs and was visibly beefy. However, they all looked like small children next to Jake's hugely muscled superbody. Separated into two groups of 25 with two sets of long, thick rope each, they formed a line with Jake in the middle, the powerful man holding one end of each rope in his strong hands. "This is Tug-Of-War Gentlemen, now go! Rip him apart!" shouted the MC. 50 men leaned backwards, pulling with everything they could muster. Jake braced himself against the power of two and a half tons of male muscle pulling against each arm. He smiled, all these men were avid gym rats, but the most intense workout of their lives was nothing compared to one of his 'easy' days. He slowly curled his arms, his massively thick super biceps defeating the combined pulling power of 25 men per side. The huge man smiled as he enjoyed the feeling of his bulging muscles overpowering all these big dudes. His dick slowly grew past the 10 inch mark as the feeling of male strength turned him on more and more. Jake crossed his arms in front of his titanic pecs, and, slowly and carefully, he transferred both ropes to just his right hand. The audience was going crazy as they watched their idol restrain the pulling power of 50 brawny men with only one hand. Try as they might, they couldn't defeat the powerful grip of his mighty fist. Jake rubbed his free left hand all over his body, across his pecs, over his glutes, cupping his gigantic dick as he made it plainly clear that he could stand here overpowering these men all day. Only after several minutes did he finally open his fist, making 4 dozen men fall to the ground in an instant. Jake helped several of defeated men to their feet, lightly kissing them, and whispering to several that they should stick around after the show. As the awestruck men went back to their seats, Jake reached for his next prop: a pair of 20 lb chrome dumbbells. The audience laughed, they looked so small and puny in his thick, calloused hands. Handing one to an audience member, he held the remaining dumbbell in his palms level with his magnificient pecs. The audience, all of them, then gasped in unison as his fingers literally dug straight into the chrome spheres, the steel emitted a muffled squeak as the heavily muscled stud really poured on the power. Pausing for breath, he began pushing his hands together now. Massively thick shoulder muscles, easily the size of a pair of football helmets, bulged hugely as the chromed steel dumbbell began to collapse. Some of the more brash men had shoved their hands down their pants, furiously stroking and jacking themselves off as their eyes raped Jake's insanely sexy body. The room started to smell of faintly of sex as the male audience cued off of each other and began pleasuring themselves and their partners. Within seconds Jake had nearly flattened the thick steel dumbbell between his open palms. He handed the wrecked object to an audience member, who turned over the chrome ball in his hands with wonder. Grabbing the undamaged dumbbell, he repeated his awesome feat once more, the 20 lb object easily succumbing to Jake's monstrously pumped up physique as he flattened it into a pancake of warm steel. And yet he wasn't finished mangling it. Digging his fingers into the metal once more, he pulled outwards with all his strength. The poor dumbbell shrieked as Jake unleashed everything his godlike body had. For a second it looked like the dumbbell was made of chewing gum, stretching out impossibly before the hot metal snapped in half. Half the audience cheered, the other half moaned, completely overtaken by strength-lust. Jake flexed his body now, which bulged larger than ever. His arms were 26 inches and growing and his cock had just passed the 11 inch mark. His dickhead was now visible, having been partially pushed through his jeans by his massive quads. Stage hands carted his next props over, an audible rush went through the audience as they realized that they were engine blocks. "250 lbs a piece" said the MC. Jake bent down and gathered them all in a brawny embrace, 750 lbs easily pressed tightly against his chest. The audience gasped once more as this rippling, bulging super-stud began to juggle them. His Herculean arms hurling them far above his head. The audience's errupted in applause at Jake's incredible display of strength and agility. He smiled, soaking up the adoration. For a minute he kept almost a half ton of steel whizzing overhead. Finally, with grace afforded to him by his superhuman body, he gently caught all the engine blocks, setting them down lightly to an immense standing ovation. Not pausing to rest, he grabbed one of the blocks and wedged it between his redwood sized thighs. Unbeliveably, his quads because even more massive as he began squeezing them togther. Some in the audience were pressing their hands against the foreheads in disbelief, but most were jacking off with wild abandon, sexually excited to the extreme by this boy's incredible muscles. The engine block was visibly compressing as Jake's immense quads squeezed together with the strength of a hydraulic press. His jeans were in tatters, both of his gigantic quads jutted out several inches as the denim was overwhelmed by their sheer size. His calves were now larger than any Human calf ever, diamond shaped and harder than steel. His manhood was becoming very visible now, and a rush of lust spread through the men as they feasted their eyes on a glans as big as a big man's fist. Nuts bigger than any five men each were also on display as Jake's amazing body exploded its way out of his clothes.
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  39. It had been two years since Vinny started balancing between his bodybuilding career and his pro wrestling gig, and it wasn't getting any easier. He loved bodybuilding, but it didn't exactly pay the bills, and he was getting to the point where the wrestling was paying pretty well, and he was due up for a two-year contract. Given his popularity in the circuit, he knew he could ask for a lot more. Still, that didn't stop him from entering a major bodybuilding contest just a week before the big wrestling match he was on the roster for that night. He was still a little drained from the hardcore dieting he'd done for the contest, but at 6' tall and 230lbs, he was ripped to the bone, and would drive the crowd wild with his flexing. Besides, the match was pretty much all choreographed out, and he was due to beat the Urban Cowboy for a chance to go for the championship belt. He'd fought the Urban Cowboy about a dozen times before, and they both had their moves down. What could go wrong? But when Vinny got to the arena, he was met in the locker room by two of the promoters, both of whom looked agitated and nervous. "What's going on?" Vinny asked them. "Ok, here's the deal, Vin," said one of them, a heavy-set guy in an ill-fitting suit. "The Urban Cowboy broke both his wrists in a rodeo this afternoon." "So the match is off?" asked Vinnie. "No,no, we can't do that. But we found a replacement....you've probably heard of him, he's called the Mighty Beast." Vinny got a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Wasn't he that fat hairy old guy. I remember watching him when I was a little kid. I thought he retired?" What he failed to mention was that as that little kid, his older cousin had taken him to see pro wrestling, and the Mighty Beast was on the card. When the big gutted, bulked up powerhouse came out, Vinny had gotten that same tug in his gut. And as the brutally strong pro wrestler had beaten his opponent to oblivion, little Vinny had gotten his first boner. After that, he would ache for the Mighty Beast to show up on TV wrestling matches so he could masturbate to him. "Not exactly retired," said the promoter. "He's been wrestling on and off in Japan." "So I'm supposed to fight some old washed up dude on my way to a championship belt? What is he, like 50 years old?" The second promoter mumbled thru his hand, "Fifty-seven." "No way," said Vinny, "I'm not gonna beat up on some old timer like that. I'm 25 years old, I'll look like a jerk." Meanwhile, he was calculating in his head that the Massive Beast must have been in his forties when Vinny first started getting off on him. It was because of the thick brute muscle daddy that Vinny, when he was in his teens, started building his own muscles and flexing out in the mirror in his bedroom. "Listen Vinny, I know it's last minute, but we have a full house tonight, and we need that fifth match. Just do this for us, and we can pretty much guarantee that 2-year contract and the championship match down the road." Those sounded like some vague promises, but Vinny's heart was pounding hard at the thought of facing off with his idol. Still trying to sound nonchalant, he said "Ok, I'll do it. Does the old man know the routine?" "You said it yourself, Vin, he's an old timer. He knows all the routines. You won't regret this." As the two promoters left the locker room, Vinny thought he heard the smaller guy say, "He's gonna regret this, isn't he?" As the night progressed and the early matches started, Vinny stayed backstage, warming up and flexing in the mirrors. He couldn't help but admire his condition. His body fat was holding at about 4 percent. His muscles rippled at his slightest move, and his 8pac abs popped out like cobblestone when he flexed them. Some of the other wrestlers told him he was looking good as they passed by him, and he couldn't have agreed more. Although he had never been able to attain the sheer massive bulk of a guy like the Mighty Beast, he was still jacked up better than 99% of men. Meanwhile, there was still no sign of the old time wrestler. "Maybe he won't show up," said Vinny out loud as he hit a double-bi shot. Now that he'd had time to think about it, he had mixed feelings about beating down his long time hero. He watched himself in the mirror as his 18" biceps rose up. He kissed each hard peak, in a prelude to what he'd be doing when he got into the ring. When the time came for his match, Vinny made his way to the ring. He loved having the spotlight on him, and hearing the cheers mixed with the boos. Billed as Vin the Viking God, he'd become popular in his short time as a wrestler, and his blond hair and good looks didn't hurt, but some people loved to hate him for his arrogance. That didn't bother him because he figured they'd be arrogant too, if they looked like him. He hopped into the ring, wearing only his wrestling boots and a pair of Speedo sized trunks. He put on a show of flexing his muscular body, making sure to hit each side of the squared circle. The crowd ate it up, even the ones that heckled him. He hit pose after pose, till he was dripping sweat. Just as he was starting to think that the Beast was not going to show, entrance music started to play in the arena. The houselights dimmed, and a spotlight shown on a big hulking figure that was making his way down the main aisle. The big man wore a black cape that flowed around him as he sauntered toward the ring. He didn't wave or respond at all to the audience's cheers, but instead, seemed to be focused solely on Vinny. His dark eyes glared toward the ring . His grizzled face had an extremely powerful jaw line, thick with stubble, and an overdeveloped brow that was Neanderthal-like as it jutted out over his eyes. As he grabbed the ropes and pulled himself up, Vinny felt the whole ring shift. When he got inside the ropes, still cloaked in his cape, he jumped up and down a few times. The whole floor of the ring bounced like a trampoline. Both Vinny and the ref almost lost their footing. Just how fat had the old dude gotten, Vinny thought. But then the Mighty Beast undid his cape and let it fall behind him. There was a collective gasp from the crowd. Standing at 6'6", he weighed easily 350lbs. He was not fat. He looked solid as an ox. His chest was huge, and covered with thick salt and pepper hair. His roidgut rounded out, and even thru his thick gut hair you could see his ab ridges, cutting deeply into his hard 6pak. He had on black square cut trunks which were stretched tight as seal skin over his huge glutes and thighs...huge swollen thighs that pushed the legs of the short trunks up higher toward his crotch. His leg hair had not turned gray at all, but was jet black and curly on his 36"quads. He was barefooted, and after kicking his cape out of the ring, he turned and focused his full attention on Vinny. He stepped into the middle of the ring and put his fists up into a boxing stance. Vinny, deciding to play along, stepped up to him and put his hands up too. Vinny realized that he must look small in comparison to the massive old wrestler. He also noticed that the big man's face was overly bloated, as if from doing large amounts of anabolics. That would explain his extremely heavy muscularity. He was much bigger than Vinny had ever seen him as a younger man. Vinny noticed the size of the Beast's forearms. They had to be 18 inches, as big as Vinny's biceps, and all gnarly with twisting veins. Even his fists were over-the-top huge, with big bulging knuckles, made even bigger by his clenching of his meaty hands. Suddenly, he opened one of those meaty fists, and pointed to his big jaw, motioning to Vinny to take his best shot. This was off scripted, but Vinny decided, again, to play along. He swung up at the bigger man's jaw. The Beast dodged Vinny's jab with ease. The crowd laughed. This made Vinny bristle a little. He swung at the bigger man again, this time harder and faster. The Beast dodged again, easily. Then he did a little rope-a-dope in front of Vinny, which made the crowd laugh louder and start to cheer. Vinny didn't like the way this was going at all, so instead of throwing another punch, he swung a roundhouse kick into the side of the big man's knee. Vinny might as well have kicked a telephone pole. All he did was hurt his own shin. It felt like it almost shattered. The Mighty Beast glowered at him, balled up his ham-sized fist and slammed it into Vinny's abs. Vinny flew back like a rocket. His feet actually left the ground from the force of the blow. He hit the ropes hard, then fell to the ring. He could barely breath, he'd had the wind knocked out of him so badly. He looked up as the Beast made his way over to him. The big older man leaned over from his towering height, and put two thick fingers under Vinny's chin. He lifted Vinny up to his feet, and then kept pushing upward with those powerful fingers. Vinny, gagging and choking, grabbed the big man's 18" forearm and tried to push him away, but the powerful Beast kept digging in, until Vinny was on his tiptoes. And then, completely off the ground. Vinny's eyes teared from the pain of it. The old man held him airborne with his two fingers, then flexed his free arm, letting it rise up to its full 26" size. He kissed the peak, then lowered Vinny down till they were face to face. "This is going to be fun," said the big man, his breath hitting Vinny's face like a heat wave. He dropped Vinny to the mat, and then hit a most-muscular pose over him. His traps rose up, thick as an ox yoke. His delts swelled to the size of basketballs. The crowd went apeshit. Vinny had never seen so much muscle on one man. The tug in his gut was ten times stronger than he'd ever felt it, and it spread to his loins. He felt his dick engorging. He knew that if he stood up, the crowd would see his hardon. But before he had a chance to move, the Beast scooped him off the ground and pressed him overhead, one hand on his crotch and one hand on his neck. He started walking around the ring, showing the crowd how he could press Vinny's 230 pounds up and down like a broomstick. Vinny saw the ref leaning against a turnbuckle with awe in his eyes and a pup tent in his pants. Vinny had never felt such strength. And then he felt the Beast's thick thumb rubbing into his crotch until it stroked up against his swelling cock. Vinny's vision went white with pleasure. He put his left hand down onto the top of the bigger man's delt, a delt that was bigger than Vinny's head, and bowling ball hard. He could feel the power of it as the Beast pressed him up and down, up and down. After twenty reps, just as Vinny thought he was going shoot in his trunks, the Beast dropped him behind his head, letting Vinny fall the eight feet to the ring with a thud. With the wind knocked out of him again, Vinny struggled to his knees. He looked over and found that he was eye level with the big man's calves. They were immense. Vinny shook his head in disbelief. The Beast saw him looking at them, so he raised on foot up onto its ball and flexed the calf muscle. It swelled out like an over-filled hot water bottle. Vinny grunted out in awe. But then the Beast dove on top of him, driving Vinny flat onto his face. It felt like a bank vault had landed on him. "Come on, babe, fight me," growled the big man, as he ground his weight into him. Vinny twisted and squirmed as hard as he could, and maybe it was because he was so slippery from the heavy sweat he'd already worked up, he was able to slip out from under his brutally strong opponent. He rolled away from him quickly, jumped to his feet, ran to the ropes, bounced off of them and bodyslammed himself on top of the Beast. It was like landing on top of a boulder. At least when he landed on the mat, it had give. The big brute's back muscles had no give at all. Vinny shimmied his way to the back of the Beast's neck, slid his arms around and under the huge back and applied his full-nelson as tight as he could. He felt the massive mountain of a man underneath him start to move, the back muscles tighten as he got to his feet, Vinny clinging to his hold. By the time the Mighty Beast stood up to full height, Vinny's feet were dangling off the ground. He struggled to maintain his full-nelson, but the big man's lats were so wide and thick, he felt his grip slipping. And then, the Beast took a hold of Vinny's forearms. Vinny felt the powerful fingers wrap around his wrists like vices. Then he felt the Beast break his hold, pulling his hands apart with ease, then pulling his arms upward and judo flipping Vinny's whole body over his head and down to the mat onto his back. Vinny looked up, his eyes glazed, and watched as the Mighty Beast put his big foot on Vinny's chest, then flexed into a double-bi shot. The Beast was so heavily muscled, he reminded Vinny of the cartoon wrestler from the Bugs Bunny cartoon, whose muscles piled up and up, muscle on top of muscle, just like the Beast. Vinny was harder than he'd ever been in his life, and when his massive opponent bent over and picked him up, slamming him into a tight bearhug, his feet dangling in the air. Vinny let out a groan not from the crushing pain of the hug, but because he felt his hardon pressing into the stone hard roidgut of the big man. "Oh yeah, babe," the Beast said to Vinny, "you like this, don't you?" He squeezed Vinny harder against his huge chest and gutball. Then he slid Vinny up and down his hairy torso, grinding Vinny's dick into his thick pro wrestler muscle. "Oh god....." groaned Vinny. "And I just keep getting bigger and stronger. Feel it?" said the Beast as he squeezed harder. Vinny felt like his ribs would shatter. "Ffuckk," said the young pro. "That's it, babe. Cum to this muscle. Worship it. Spew to my 350lbs of superior size and power." He slid Vinny up and down. Vinny couldn't hold out. He busted right in his trunks. He came and came to his powerful opponent. He leaned his head against the Beast's thick neck and breathed him in. His scent smelled like leather and gun metal. Vinny came some more. Then he heard the roar of the crowd, and remembered where he was. "They can't see this...." Vinny said, realizing that his reputation might be sullied if the crowd got a look at him in this state. "Don't worry, stud," said the older fighter, "I'll get you out of here. Just tap out on my shoulder." Then he shook Vinny back and forth a couple of times, then squeezed him hard. Vinny tapped out on the massive wrestler's right delt. The ref called the match and the bell rang. The Beast lifted Vinny up and laid him over his right shoulder. The ref tried to raise the Beast's arm in victory, but the look that the big man gave him made him back up against the ropes. Instead, the wrestler flexed his free left arm and held it up next to Vinny's leg, showing that his biceps were bigger than Vinny's quads. Then he carried Vinny out of the ring, climbing down with the smaller man on his shoulder. He strutted up the aisle as the crowd went wild, and disappeared into the backstage area. "Now we're going to shower off," said the Beast, as he set Vinny down in the locker room. "Then, I'm taking you back to my hotel room, where you can service me proper." The big man stripped off his black trunks and his big dick flopped out, swinging between his massive thighs. Vinny wasn't sure what he could do with something that big, but he was eager to find out.
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