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A month after Dino had gotten his prostate exam from Doc, and had met up with Ruben, all three of them were living at Doc’s house. Doc had put Dino on the same regiment that he and Ruben were on, and Dino had responded well. Real well. And he wasn’t going for shred so much as for bulk. He’d gained 50lbs in 30 days, and was loving every minute of it. He couldn’t pass by a mirror without getting a big dumb grin on his face. He rub his big hard powerlifter gut, then bounce his big bloated pecs, and snort with pleasure. Then he’d go into the kitchen and make a gallon of mass gainer shake. Doc was buying it in bulk now, bringing it in by containers the size of spackle buckets. The three of them were going thru several buckets a day. On top of the vast quantities of food. They were each taking in tens of thousands of calories a day. Doc was up to 290lbs, and had stayed lean and symmetrical, like an oversized Frank Zane, or Bob Paris. Ruben had muscled up 525lbs. He’d taken to hiking into the woods behind the house for his workouts. He liked to uproot trees, then snap their trunks across the back of his neck. He loved the sound of his power splintering the wood and the feel of his huge traps against the bark as the trunk bent across them until it cracked. He’d toss the splintery remains into one of the ravines that ran deep into the woods. The ravines were full of boulders that he could rip out of the ground and carry them up and down the steep slopes, bloating his monster quads and calves to superhuman proportions. He loved feeling the blowtorch-like burn in his massive thighs as he powered his way up the hillside. On his way back to the house, he’d clothesline more tree trunks with his clublike forearms, snapping them like toothpicks. He felt his loins churning as he used his strength and size to plow through the woods. Local police started getting reports of Sasquatch sightings, and Doc could understand why. When Ruben reappeared in the backyard after several hours in the woods, he looked like a primordial beast, his massive frame covered in dirt, broken bark, leaves, his massive limbs scraped from thorns and branches. Sweat rolled down his torso, turning the dirt into rivulets of mud as it ran down his bulging gutball. He’d be raging to rut with whoever he grabbed first, Doc or Dino. Good thing they weren’t fragile. Ruben raged inside them, his eyes glazed over with lust. Afterwards, Doc would clean him up with rubbing alcohol, cleaning all the debris and scrapes until his skin was shiny and tight on his massive muscles. Then they’d blow each other. It was a good life. Money, however, was a growing concern. Doc had cut way back on his practice, as he was now only taking new patients who already weighed over 300lbs and who wanted much more. Doc came up with the idea of starting a sperm bank after he did DNA tests on his remaining patients, and also Dino and Ruben. All the men turned out to have a high percentage of Neanderthal DNA, which explained their thick powerful bones, heavy limbs, extra thick necks and traps, protruding brows and jutting jawlines. And the ease with which they added slabs of muscle to their already powerful builds. None of them ever got colds or the flu. Doc had their sperm tested too, and found out that the gear they were all on had permanently altered their genetic codes, triggering a stronger response from their Neanderthal chromosomes. Doc got ‘deposits’ from all of them, and marketed it on the dark web, in order to avoid any legal issues. He found a niche market very fast, of people wanting physically superior offspring, and money started pouring in. Dino, to do his part, got a job as a security guard at a nightclub in a seedy part of town. It was known for having a rowdy crowd, especially in the wee hours, but the owners were smart enough to let Dino work with no shirt, and the number of brawls and street fights plummeted immediately. All Dino had to do was strut thru the club, his huge hairy arms sticking out as they rested on top of his barndoor lats, and the place stayed calm for the most part. If some dude got drunk enough to cause trouble, Dino would take them to a dark corner and explain to them how he could deadlift 1200lbs, so what did they think he could do to their fragile little bones. That calmed them right down. That, and having a 350 pound shirtless powerlifting gorilla about an inch from their face. The owners also let Dino get up on stage to put on a muscle show. Dino was a huge hit. Turns out his 350lbs bulk, covered with thick black hair front and back, was a welcome change from the normal strippers the club usually hired. His massive bloated pecs were like two oversized hot water bottles, filled to the max, and he could control them perfectly, bouncing them up and down rhythmically, or heaving them out far and resting a beer mug on each pec, then walking around the stage with them balanced on his magnificent furry slabs. He loved seeing guys get wet spots in their pants as they watch him flex and strut. He knew which ones he could push over the edge by going closer to them and sucking in his big gut, then letting it out. Sucking it in, letting it out, until the pelt of his big ballgut brushed against their noses. Some men fainted from it. Dino would smirk and move onto his next victim, rubbing his thickly muscled gut along the way. He was coming home with thousands of dollars in tips every week. One morning, two cops showed up at the front door of Doc’s house. Doc was at work, and Dino was sleeping in, so when no one answered the door, the cops started snooping around toward the side of the house. Someone had called in about loud noises coming from the area. The cops heard some deep guttural grunting coming from behind the house, so they walked around the side of the house to the backyard. Both of the cops stopped dead in their tracks as they saw a 525lbs Ruben doing curls with an Olympic bar loaded with 405lbs, wearing only a black pair of posers. He grunted out one slow, controlled rep after another, his biceps swelling bigger with each curl. “Holy shit,” stammered the one cop, who was a 21 year-old rookie. “Look at that fucking guy.” “Stay cool, Tom,” said the older cop, even though he was pretty stunned himself. He stepped into the backyard far enough for Ruben to notice him. Ruben saw them, but continued to do his curls. He started counting out reps, grunting 54, 55, 56….until he reached 60, then he dropped the bar to the ground, the plates sinking 4 inches into the sod. He took a step toward the cops and said, “What can I do for you boys?” His voice so deep and strong, the cops felt it in their bones. He casually bounced his massive pecs as he stood before them. He glistened with sweat, and both his huge arms had a vein the size of a garden hose pulsing down them and branching into multiple veins like a river delta. His delts were the size of basketballs, and rippled with thick ropey muscle as he rolled his shoulders up and back. “Jesus,” said the rookie. The older cop said, “Um, we’re just checking out the neighborhood for a noise report.” He was having a hard time not staring at Ruben’s unbelievable torso. “Have you heard anything unusual around here lately?” “Not around here. Unless you mean something like this.” Ruben leaned toward them and flexed into a most-muscular pose. As he did so, he let out a tremendous roar. Muscle swelled up all over him, and veins emerged everywhere, even on his forehead. Both cops staggered backwards. Ruben stepped closer to them, and squeezed into his pose even harder. “Holy crap…” said the rookie, feeling his knees start to buckle. The older cop grabbed him by the arm to steady him. Ruben chuckled at how easy it was to stun the two cops with his mass. “Want a ride?” he said to them, as he grabbed both cops by their belts and lifted them. The cops each weighed around 200lbs, but Ruben was straight-arm lifting them like they were two pillows. Their feet dangled off the ground. Ruben curled them upward, and his huge arms bunched up into boulders that were bigger around than the cops’ waists. He hoisted them straight up overhead and walked around the yard with them. Meanwhile, from an upstairs window, Dino was watching. He’d gotten up when he heard voices, and was now naked and jerking off as he saw Ruben using the two cops like light dumbbells. He was already leaking when Ruben turned and walked toward the back of the yard, his massive, stone-hard glutes bulging out of the sides of his posers. Dino could see the striations in the huge muscle ass even from upstairs. It pushed him right over the edge. He put one big hairy hand on the window frame, and then he spewed all over the window. Ruben put the cops down. Their legs buckled and they went down to their knees. Both of them were hard in their pants. Ruben smiled, then flexed his 8pak roidgut an inch from their faces. Both of them groaned. “Want to touch?” Ruben asked. The cops reached out and laid their hands on Ruben’s tight belly skin. Ruben pushed his abs out. They rounded out like 8 curved paving stones. The rookie cop was getting a wet spot in his crotch as he felt the stubble on Ruben’s rockgut, and ran his fingers along the deep ab ridges, slippery with sweat. Ruben looked down at him, feeling pleasure at the young man’s awe and worship. His posers were tenting out. Worship and awe always made him want to rut something. Out front, Doc pulled into the driveway, arriving home early from the sperm bank. He got out of the car, wearing only a lab coat and a pair of boxer briefs. He’d discovered early on that he could get ‘donations’ from the musclebound freaks at the bank much faster if he went into the exam room with them, and pulled his lab coat open at the chest, exposing his shaved, heavily striated pecs. None of his donators had muscle development that was as shredded and grainy as Doc’s. And he kept his pecs shaved and oiled to highlight that shred. When he flexed them, thousands of striations popped out, tight as guitar strings. “Strum them,” he would say, and almost as soon as the big men’s fingers touched Doc’s chest, they would cum in their cup. When Doc saw the cop car, he went around to the backyard, curious. He came around the corner just in time to see Ruben shaking out his 48”quad in the older cop’s face. “MASS,” said Ruben, and he flexed his leg. The quad muscles tightened up like stone, and his extreme vascularity pulsed through his skin. The cop put his hands on the monster quad, and when Ruben said, “Bigger than your chest,“ the cop came in his pants. Ruben snorted, then he grabbed the rookie by the back of his neck and lifted him to his face. Then he kissed him on the mouth. Deep and long and rough. The young cop came in his pants from the feel of Ruben’s muscle tongue owning his mouth. Ruben sat the rookie down on the ground. When Ruben saw Doc watching them, he smiled, and flexed into a double bi, Doc’s favorite pose. Doc was already swelling up when Dino came out of the backdoor, still naked and hard. “Need to rut,” said Ruben, as he ripped off his poser. “Jesus,” said both cops at the sight of the naked behemoth, his big cock rising up as it engorged in the fresh air. The rookie looked behind him and saw the thick naked bulk of Dino, standing next to the 290lb Doc. “What is this place?” Dino walked over to the rookie with the swagger that someone gets when he knows that guys will stuff 100 dollar bills into his jockstrap just to get close to him. “You’re in Muscle Heaven, little dude.” Then Doc walked over. He stood over the rookie, and opened up his lab coat, completely exposing his shredded torso. He flexed. Thousands of muscle fibers popped out all over him. The rookie fainted. The older cop craned his neck around to see. Doc turned to him, and flexed some more. “Oh my god, look at you,” said the cop, bracing his hand on the ground. Dino, Doc, and Ruben looked at each other, grinning. They stripped down the cops, and for the next couple hours, they had a 5-way in the backyard. Doc focused on the rookie. Ruben focused on the older cop, reminding himself to be careful not to break him. Dino switched back and forth between the teams. The cops would never be the same. They ended up quitting the force and moving into Doc’s house. They pulled their weight by servicing the three huge musclemen in every way. They cooked and cleaned and maintained the house in return for hours and hours of worship and adoration. They got bigger themselves, just from all the muscle spunk they were taking in, but Doc never put them on gear, and they were perfectly happy just serving their muscle superiors. On Ruben’s 60th birthday, they baked him a protein cake and celebrated his age and the fact that he’d hit 600lbs of muscle at 2% bodyfat. Life was good.

Mr.Branson opened his eyes looking at the ceiling, 'where am I?'. For a moment Mr.Branson thought he was at home. His old house. The same roof he once shared with his father, his wife, and his kids. As his eyes focused, he felt a warm presence, he could feel the heat irradiating off of a massive body by his side, and feeling on his skin the displacing air coming from powerful lungs with 30 times more capacity than his own. "D... doctor Breneth?" He said looking back at the seated giant, "you've..." his eyes went from the doctor's confident expression and unique handsomeness downwards to the O-M-G bulge enveloped by the tight pouch of his skin hugging dark pants, "...grown." "How are you, Mr.Branson junior?" Said the Musclegod, the deepness of his voice that could replace James Earl Jones' legendary 'This is CNN'. Intimidated by everything, the size of the Musclegod, his voice, his eyes, his perfection, and his barrel-like upper legs and the enourmous bulge that couldn't escape his view, Mr.Branson had to swallow hard to muster a response, "Fine... no, I'm not fine. I'm... I'm..." He felt butterflies in his stomach, he couldn't even think straight. The Musclegod's presence was dumbing down his reasoning. He felt like a teenager asking a girl out the first time. Or like when he asked his (ex)wife to marry him. Very few life events gave him such twisted feelings. "Disoriented?" said the Musclegod, writing down on his notebook. With the Musclegod's eyes down on the paper, Mr.Branson took the opportunity to gawk at the doctor's chest once more. He changed his shirt. Another color. Most of his godly pectorals were still exposed. Just as his oppressively large traps. Even seated, Mr.Branson saw the four pairs of stones under a compression shirt that belonged to the Marvel movies. "Yes..." Mr.Branson's eyes were still trapped on the doctor's tectonic pectoral shelves on full display. The Musclegod looked on his big watch, noting the hour, making his absurd bicep to twitch into a hardball. "You... don't need glasses anymore?" Mr.Branson asked looking back the green eyes above him. The seated Musclegod doctor could see that his patient was more willing to talk about musclegod features than his own woes. As usual. "My visual acuity is up to 20/100 these days." "Jesus... what it means?" "I can see the license plaque of that Prius," the Musclegod said with a single glance to the large window outside. Mr. Branson could only one car at the whole deserted street, it was three blocks away turning into a bridge. "Is that even a Prius?" He felt even more intimidated by those same inquisitory eyes, aware that this Musclegod's vision could see every pore and imperfection of his face and body. "To tell the truth, I need to exam them again," the musclegod said while still writing, making his huge writing bicep to bulge like a solid sphere under the highly stressed sleeve. "My vision is always improving," he completed. Mr.Branson's eyes fixed once again on the musclegod's biceps and had a flashback of the sleeve of the prior shirt tearing apart at his face. His felt uncomfortable with his pants all messy and wet, making him feel dirty, ashamed of such position before a huge Musclegod, completely exposed and defenseless, and yet waning more of it, savoring these same memories the shirt exploded by sheer mass of the doctor's immense muscularity. The Musclegod doctor noted his wanting, and flexed an arm for his patient, watching Mr.Branson's pupils to dilate as the colossal muscles piled on the musclegod's bent arm, "I take that has been a long time since you last have been close of a Musclegod?" How did he guess? "Yes... I've been living in an old cabin not too far from here, Dr. Breneth. I... just disconnected from the world... I didn't want to be found... by them." "By Them, you mean your family?" "Yes... I tossed my phone on the road, tablet, everything. Stop using internet. I just couldn't bear any more. With the little money I had, I rented an old cabin in the woods, hiding. Hiding from those monsters." The godly muscular doctor kept writing, Mr.Branson never saw a pen moving so fast, in a little more than a minute, his sharp and precise handwriting covered yet another page. "For how long?" "Two and a half years..." "900 days completely disconnected from the world, Mr.Branson?" "Yes. There was not even a radio signal on the lake valley. I knew if I ever appeared in front of a computer, or a security camera, dad would find me. Dad has now connections with the CIA, NSA, the Army! I'm absolutely sure that he'd put the entire nation after me!" The Musclegod doctor didn't react to any of those possible delusions, because he had contacts himself within the major government offices as well. The giant brought the conversation back to Mr.Branson's life, "how you kept yourself occupied there for over two years, Mr.Branson?" "Books. Books are my passion. I know I'm a good businessman but I never had the time to do my calling. I can write. I always knew I had the knack for it. Every English teacher told me. I spent my time there reading all my favorite authors during the night and writing in the morning. I decided to make a sort of autobiographical novel, to be truthful about the unfairness of the world, make sense of the hell, and yet still aspiring, but..." "You abandoned it," the Musclegod doctor completed while filling out yet another full notebook page on his patient like a stenographer. "It was too depressing. Every page was like cutting my own wrists. One day drunk I just burned every page. It was fit of rage. All those drafts gone. Like it never existed. I guess I won't be on the NYT list any time soon." The Musclegod raised his eyebrow, "did any member of your family ever hurt you physically?" "Physically? Oh, yes, once my monster of a father broke my shoulder! He almost tore my arm from its socket!" "How exactly it happened?" "I... well, okay. It wasn't his fault. We were crossing a street and I was so disturbed that I didn't saw a bus coming and he yanked me towards his big chest so hard that he broke a few bones of mine. I think the bus would hurt less." "Did he blamed you?" "Yes! I mean, no. Actually, it was the one few times he got 'nice' with me. At least until it was healed." "So, he still cares about you." Mr.Branson did not reply to that, choosing to look the other way. "I... I have to say that I don't have 2000 dollars to pay for this." "You do not need to worry about my fees," said the Musclegod. Two thousand wouldn't even affort the doctor three days of food, or the pay back the custom made compression shirt he just destroyed to remove Mr.Branson out of his catatonic state. "I don't do this for the money, Mr.Branson." "Why charge 2000 then?" The Musclegod wasn't used to be questioned by tinies anymore, and neither he liked the scrutiny coming from such a tiny patient, the doctor's titanic chest took a deep breath to calm himself and not let his domineering nature to get better of him and teach Mr.Branson why a Musclegod should be always addressed by SIR. "I have countless other more profitable options than this, Mr. Branson. But those heavy fees are there to discourage new clients as my available time became too limited. Either way, I do make more than enough money to keep my old career, and it let me give guidance to my long-standing clients, like I'm doing for you, Mr.Branson." "Do you have a new career?" Mr.Branson asked. Both heard a small knock on the door. The young shrink was back, making his presence known to his own office. Breathless like he just came out of a marathon, the young man approached the Musclegod with a wide and heavy 600-page book in his hands like a trophy, "I've got one, Dr.Breneth!" "Why you took so long to find me a copy?" The Musclegod noticed that the hard cover book was used, very often used. The young man treaded lightly "w... we don't have any more copies in this office, Dr. Breneth. It is not Janine's fault. Or mine. We asked for more copies last week, and they're all gone, again. Now every client asks for them. It is still hard to find it in online stores. You know it." Doctor Breneth inspected the book and found his own autograph, "is this yours?" "Yes. I... went home to pick it up for you as you asked, Dr. My home is not that far. And it is a very well preserved copy. We wont need it so soon. Actually, my girlfriend prefers the audiobook version, she listens to your voice all the time, it helps her to get in the mood... to, hmm, give her... clarity... about the world. I prefer the book than the audiobook, but Mr.Branson needs it more than me." "Well, then, now it belongs to Mr.Branson," said the Musclegod extending his blue-sleeved veiny python arm handling the book to the small (for him) patient. "It looks expensive," said Mr.Branson. "No, seriously, you need it way more than I do," said the young shrink honestly, but their eyes didn't meet, as for the whole time, the young man could not tear his eyes apart from Dr.Breneth's hypnotic ocean of musculature, always shifting and moving as the Musclegod adjusted his 1000 pounds body (450 KG) in his large creaking military-grade office chair that took half of the free space of that room. While the book seemed small in the Musclegod hands, it felt like a slab of concrete once it got in Mr.Branson's hands. Its BIG title: "THE NEW NORMAL", and the subtitle: "The New Era's Bible" On the book's 'deep space' black cover had the picture of a cosmic herculean arm with our planet by the tip of its fingers. In golden letters was the author: 'DR.ERIC BRENETH, PhD.' The arm in the cover was just as cut and big as the relaxed arm on in front of Mr.Branson's couch. On the back cover another picture, this time with the Musclegod's chest, and again, with a tiny planet Earth being compressed between the muscular enormities of his twin chest mountains. "We are releasing the third edition with updated pictures. My assistant will mail you a copy," "Third edition!? It is a hit, then, doc! Congratulations." Mr.Branson opened the big book. It was damn heavy because every single page had a glossy finish, and every even page of the book had a full picture of Dr.Breneth; the first chapters were a diary of his transformation into a Musclegod. The first pictures were clinical and detached images of an old man fighting cancer. And progressively, as the old decrepit Dr.Breneth started to win over cancer and get muscles instead, the pictures became more stylistic than clinical, by the third chapter of the 600-page book Dr.Breneth was a whole other person, breaking the two meters tall barrier (or seven feet), and every photograph then on was a work of art, of passion and commitment, elevating the Musclegod into a mythical being. One picture in the middle of the book grabbed his attention, taken at the second that the doctor's extreme quads burst a 501 to shreds like a collapsing dam, "that's... great photograph." If Mr.Branson had that book earlier, he would find more things to keep him occupied in the cabin by the lake valley. "My son is the photographer." the Musclegod said. "All pictures completely untouched. Just as in real life" "Oh, your son, that's why they feel so... intimate." "My life is literally an open book. His partner and he followed me every single day of my transformation for over three years." On page 202, at the start of the chapter titled 'Eight Feet and Beyond,' the Musclegod was reaching his 'final form', with two SUVs worth of concrete against his explosive chest on a concrete bench, splitting and cracking to accommodate both massive weights. "Your son does really have the talent to make them... rather dramatic." "He always had a huge talent and he found a subject worthy of his talent," the Musclegod said making one huge pectoral to bounce magnanimously for a brief moment. Most Musclegods had the habit of bouncing their pectorals while talking about themselves. Even psychologists couldn't escape from having such Musclegod subconscious antics, and anytime they bounced like this, it would take Mr.Branson breath away. Mr.Branson couldn't flip the pages further without the first photo his eyes laid on grabbed his whole attention, on page 353, the chapter titled, 'The Spiritual Limits of Domination', the Musclegod wore nothing but a white toga drenched in water. His cock at half mast and nearly thick as a two-liter pepsi bottle, fully diplayed at the center of the picture. No inhibition at all. Mr.Branson turned to another page in hope to find such cock completely hard, just to phantom its size. "On page 505 there is a picture of me with son. He won more awards for those pictures than me as a writer. I'm very happy for him." "I wish my father was like you," he said turning on page 505, the Musclegod's son was his age, an average man like himself, being dwarfed by his Musclegod dad with a gym/superhero outfit like he once was. "Your father is like me," the Musclegod said bringing his hand to his chin, making gigantic forearm to fiercely compete for space with an even greater bicep. "Like me, he can do great things." But was that book a great thing? Mr.Branson thought. Surely, Mr.Branson would buy the book without thinking. Some would say it was vulgar, but he couldn't stop turning its pages, almost addictively. But his father was into GREAT BIG things since he came to be a member of the Three Comma Club. By 2018, Mr.Branson Senior owned an entire fleet of ocean liners being refurbished to allow big Musclegods to spread and show off their muscles free from social norms. A Carnival business where Musclegods had little to pay, and lines of ordinary young men and women hoping to buy a cruise ticket to be with them. His father was making billions. Mr.Branson opened a double page picture at the middle of the book, with several beautiful young girls screaming fighting between themselves to touch the Musclegod's bicep like a rockstar in a concert. How could a single picture be so heart-stirring, hair-raising, and spine-chilling... how it could steer such strong emotion in himself? Mr.Branson thought. The Musclegod's pride oozed from its glossy finish. Great photograph with an even greater subject, sure, but not anything as BIG as his father was able to attain as a Musclegod. People would be lured by such nearly obscene, lustful epic pictures of Dr.Breneth, but not the writing, Mr.Branson thought. Janine, the receptionist knocked on the door, "Dr.Breneth, HBO is on the phone's office, again." Janine in her early twenties, still in college, not only was biting her lips while stripping the Musclegod naked with her eyes, but her nipples shown like little bullets in her flannel shirt, tied with a knot urging for the Musclegod to unfasten it. The Musclegod was not amused by the session getting interrupted, "and why is that important?" Janine kept focus, "a man told him that another man told him that if you don't sign their contract by the end of the week, they will phone Dr.Memphis." "Dr.Memphis? He is a HACK!" The glass over the table trembled at the doctor's full voice. Both Mr.Branson and the young shrink protected their ears, while Janine's legs trembled as his loud voice alone was edging her to multiple orgasms, she was THAT sensible to his powerful voice, more so than all other countless young women and amazons the sex symbol doctor encountered. "You," the Musclegod pointed to the young man, "stay here with Mr.Branson while I resolve this." "No problem, Dr.Breneth. I'll do anything you want. Anything..." The young man noticed he was being too pushy, "I'm just glad to help," he said not being able to avoid looking at the pants-life-threatening bulge resting on the Musclegod's supremely powerful looking thighs. Watching a Musclegod standing up was a spectacle in itself. Rising higher and higher, always perplexing to the ordinary people around him. Mr.Branson surely had his share of this experience with his father. Didn't matter if this simple act was a daily, or an hourly occurrence, it would invariably impress him like the time he saw naked breasts for the first time as a teenager. There is something that snaps when a Musclegod breaks the two-meters/seven feet barrier. And it happens again at two and a half/eight feet, becoming unbearably too hot to anyone too close. And then, they watched his apotheotic swagger as the 8'5 feet Musclegod thumps on the ground as he turned to the door. They kept their buggy eyes at the big bulge package bouncing as it was so big and heavy as the Doctor's overwhelming muscles. Janine could not stop mentally comparing the volume of that package with the size of her hands. Even soft, those balls and the mass of cock would overflow her open palms. "Oh, shit..." Janine cried while crossing her legs again as if she needed to pee urgently. She forced herself to stop those impulses as there was a client in the room. Not just any client, but DR.BRENETH's client. He must be important, she thought while her eyes feasted at the butt, as hard, big and jutting as two bowling balls rolling one over another, walking away from the room by the narrow (for him) double-sized doors. Their clear lack of self-control made Mr.Branson feel somewhat more 'normal' about himself. The 'New' normal, he thought. How many times he didn't found himself in this same situation with his father. Of course, Mr.Branson junior never told any of those moments to Dr.Breneth. It was just, too damn private to get hard beyond any control for his Musclegod dad. The more he attempted to avoid fantasies and daydreams involving his father's muscles, his cock wouldn't avoid it, it would rebel. "HBO?" Mr.Branson asked once his senses allowed. "Is he going to be on Game of Thrones or what?" "A deal on the book. That's what we know," said the young shrink. "Seriously? How quaint. It must be a vanity project." Both Janine and the young shrink looked back at Mr.Branson like he was crazy, "what?" Mr.Branson asked back. "Dude, he sold 80 million copies," said the young shrink. "Everyone is talking about it. It is... controversial." "80 million! Those are Harry Potter numbers!" "Were you living under a rock?" Asked the young shrink. "You should know, you are the therapist here." "I'm only doing this for the credits. I'm probably the worst shrink in the whole United States." The young shrink did not mention about his fixation fever on the Musclegod doctor as the major (and sole) reason for being there. Everyone had their secrets about a Musclegod. Mr.Branson looked back at the heavy book with the tacky muscle cover. "80 million?? That's Da Vinci Code Big. He must be a millionaire by now." "He's making 20 bucks on each copy, do the math. He is making fucking bank! He is so awesome. Dr.Breneth don't even sell his face. He could make much more money if he wanted to. But he says that integrity doesn't have a price... which makes them even offer more money." "Did Dr.Breneth got on the NYT list?" "The 'New Normal' IS on the TOP of the NYT bestsellers, Mr.Branson." . end of the third part (of the second part)

Chapter 23 The end of September quickly became the beginning of October, and James and I were closer than ever. We weren’t attached at the hip like Dave and Luke, thankfully, but we were fast approaching that territory. James still slept in his own room, sometimes I went 15 or 16 whole hours without seeing him, and we didn’t text each other when we were in separate classes, but we were firmly established as a couple. Sometimes, when James was walking through campus by himself, strangers would recognize him and shout, “Soccer tweet’s boyfriend!”—something that always made him look down and speed up. The beard made James easier to recognize. He did nothing in half-measures, and he felt he had to out-do the photographer. Most 22-year-olds can’t grow a beard so thick and luxurious at all, and James did it in ten days. I stopped him before he went full Duck Dynasty, and now he kept it neat and trimmed near his face. Our relationship had definitely progressed over the past few weeks—James was eating off plates and no longer tripped or got tongue-tied. However, I was painfully aware that I had never seen my boyfriend naked. And the few times he’d gotten undressed near me (mostly at the gym), he did it behind a door or made me turn around so I wasn’t looking. “Like a gentleman,” he always added. We hadn’t moved past second base, and even then, I had to reach under his shirt. He wouldn’t take it off. My body demanded sexual release, even more so since I had a cock like an aircraft carrier. After James got me hot and heavy during our make-out sessions, I’d have to run off to the men’s room and jack off two times really quickly just to be in the same room as him again. I decided to confront him in my dorm room one afternoon when Luke (and therefore Dave) was at soccer practice. “I’m fine with going slow,” I told him after explaining my frustrations. We were sitting on my bed, and James’s eyes were opened wide after my confession. “I don’t want to put pressure on you. I know you’re a virgin, and your first time can be a big deal. But I want a physical aspect to our relationship, and I need to know we’re headed there.” “You’re right,” he said. “I’ve been doing it on purpose.” “Why?” I was past confused. James steeled himself and said, “I’m scared.” “Of sex?” “Of what comes next. If I disappoint you, I’m scared you’ll leave me. I know you’ve had a threesome. I heard Victor’s screams at the theater party. Fuck, I’ve known you since freshman year and know how many exes and one night stands you’ve had. I’m still getting used to kissing.” “I don’t expect you to be a porn star right out of the gate,” I said. “Heck, I might disappoint you.” “That’s another fear I have,” James admitted. “I had you built up so much in my mind, I had you on a pedestal for so long, that I’m scared that if the sex isn’t mind-blowing, I’ll be disappointed and resentful. I’ve been working on reminding myself that sex is just sex.” “Exactly!” I said. “And we might not even be sexually compatible at first. We have to find what works for us, and that could take a few times.” “I’m getting there; I swear,” James promised. He looked nervous and agitated, like the tripping, inarticulate James I’d known for three years. “I’m just not a me who’s that me yet.” “I’m not saying we have sex tonight. There are steps in-between.” I put my arm on his shoulder and pulled him in close. With my other hand, I stroked his beard. “For instance, I haven’t even seen you shirtless.” “I don’t like being shirtless in public.” “I’ve never even seen you shirtless in private.” “Never?” “Not even when you change at the gym. You do it in one of the stalls.” James sat back and said, “Never?” I shook my head. “That’s easy enough to fix.” James got up and started to take his shirt off, a t-shirt striped with thick lines of dark green and navy blue, but then he suddenly stopped. “I’m going to do this right,” he said. “I might not know how to have sex, but I know I can dance.” He took his cell phone out of his jeans pocket. They were my favorite pair of his pants: tight black denim with silver fixtures. He scrolled through a few screens, selected a song, and then pressed play. It was some slow, old school R&B song I’d never heard, but it sounded like a sex scene from a 1980s movie. Once the music got going, James began to undulate his hips and move closer to me in tune with the music. He then turned to his left profile and did a few body rolls, one fast, and then three slow. I could clearly see all of his muscles flex in and out, even through the shirt. He then took his right hand and reached over to the bottom of his shirt on his left side. Slowly pulling up, he flashed me his abs. They were prominent and powerful, set in a tight waist and covered with thick, chestnut hair, the same thickness and color as his beard. He then lowered his shirt back down and wagged his finger at me, as if to say, “Not yet,” all in time to the music. He then jumped, turning in mid-air to repeat the tease on the other side. I had never realized James was this nimble, and this time when he lifted his shirt, my eyes were drawn down to the top of his jeans, which had crept lower. A small tuft of hair was situated just above his zipper—a trail leading to buried gold. The song entered its second chorus, and James faced me, slowly rolling his body closer to and the further away from me, his crotch front and center. James was definitely getting worked up, as the bulge in his pants grew. The fabric was too dark to get a good picture, but the mystery was intense and captivating. When the song hit the bridge, he crossed his arms in front of himself so each hand could grab the opposite shoulder of the t-shirt. Then, with a forceful tug, pulled the shirt in two directions at once, tearing it in half, revealing his glorious pecs. They were thick and rounded with a pleasant swirl of hair, slightly darker than his beard, spreading from one side to the other, denser in the middle than at either side. His nipples were smaller than I expected, but pert and forthright, darker than the skin that surrounded them. James shed the remains of his t-shirt and put them in his right hand, swung it around the back of my head, and caught the other end in his left hand. He pulled me up tight and close against his body. As the song came to a close, he whispered in my ear, “Is this a step in the right direction?” I answered by bending down and slowly covering every inch of his torso with staccato kisses. Eventually, we tumbled to the bed. We lay in each other’s arms; I traced my hand through his chest hair and ran my pinky over the ridges in his abs. “Thank you. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to reciprocate.” “You can lend me a shirt,” he teased.

Chapter 22 The first week after the soccer game passed. After chem lecture on Friday, Dave and I went to meet our boyfriends at the cart, but there was a crowd waiting there. “Why are there so many people in our spot?” I asked. Dave looked through the crowd. “Except for James, they’re all on the soccer team,” he said in fake surprise. I pulled out my phone. There was a reminder flashing—a reminder I didn’t put in my phone. It said: “Photoshoot! Today at 11!” I showed Dave my phone. “Oh good,” he said, “you got my reminder.” I had completely forgotten that was today. When Dave and I joined the group, everyone stood. I made my way over to kiss James hello, and Luke started talking. “Now that everyone’s here, let’s go.” We moved as a group to the photoshoot. The whole time, I stood close to James and we whispered to each other. “I don’t get it,” I started. “The guys on the soccer team love it when the girls in the stand fawn over how hot they are. Even when Dave does it. They had no problem doing the shirtless car wash last year. Why would only 11 of them do the calendar?” James shrugged and said, “I assume they have tiny dicks.” The herd of us had arrived at the art building. Before half the team had backed out, Luke had secured one of the studios in the basement for the shoot, and the photographer was meeting us there. His name was Nicholas Donner, and he was nothing at all like I expected. He was a fireplug of a man, a really macho, burly guy dressed like he was going on a hunting trip, not to a photoshoot. He was wearing a tan vest covered in pockets, a flannel shirt, faded jeans, and paint-stained boots. He completed the image with a thick beard. The studio was intense, full of professional equipment and more workers than I expected. “How can the soccer team afford all this?” I blurted out loud. Dave coughed. “No way,” I said. Dave demurred. “I’m not saying that I tricked my mother into footing the bill for a nude calendar of my boyfriend,” he paused, looking for a way to finish the sentence. A moment later, he said, “But that’s exactly what I did.” “You masterminded this whole thing.” I was almost impressed. Dave feigned an innocent look. “What? She can write it off.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “It’s for charity!” For the ease of organization, the team had decided to do the shoot in the order of the months. I was November, so I was going dead last before the group shot. To protect our modesty—a notion I found adorable given the circumstances—Nicholas had cordoned off part of the room with a portable partition that went two-thirds the way across the room, designated as the nude area. Only naked people, Nicholas, and his staff were allowed in the nude area. Two teammates would be behind the cordon at any given moment: the one being prepped with hair, make up, and minimal wardrobe, and the one being shot. When it was Luke’s turn (June), Dave tried to peek over the cordon, but a lighting guy fended him away. While October was going, I was asked behind the cordon to get ready. Once behind the wall, I was surprised to see just how many people were on this side: three light technicians, two runners, a costumer, a makeup artist, a hair stylist, and Nicholas. How rich was Dave’s mother? One of the runners pointed to a place I could hang my clothes, and I stripped naked. I was then pointed over to the makeup chair where the artist, an older red-haired woman with a gravelly voice—said, “You don’t need much, now do you?” Apparently, she’d been using makeup tricks to make the other guys’ muscles pop out more. For my shoot, I needed to look wet, but sexy wet, so she sprayed me with a glycerin solution. I wanted to ask about its composition, but this wasn’t the time or place. At the same time, the stylist, a rail-thin woman with hip-length ashen blond hair, looked closely at my hair and said, “Oh, thank God, you dye it. If this was your natural hair color, I would have to poison you.” She rubbed a styling gel through my hair to give it a faux, messy, I-just-stepped-out-of-the-shower look. I shook my head back and forth, and not a single hair moved. That was weird. Nicholas called me over after October was finished and had me stand in front of a green screen. The background was going to be superimposed later. He looked me up and down, up and down, smiled, then looked me up and down again. “So, soccer tweet guy actually looks like that,” he said, nodding in approval. He turned to his lighting technicians. “Let’s get some split lighting on this beefy motherfucker.” He turned back around to me. “Can you tuck that thing,” he pointed to my cock, “or do we need a prop to hide it? Like a firetruck?” Every word he said sounded like an accusation. “I doubt I can tuck it,” I said honestly. “Of course not,” he said. He turned to a runner. “Get him a prop.” He turned back to me, “We want to give the audience a thrill, not a heart attack.” “Whatever you want me to do.” He grabbed the back of the runner’s shirt to stop him from leaving. He then said, very slowly, to me, “You’d let me shoot your whole dick?” “Sure,” I said bluntly. “From base to tip?” “Isn’t that the point of this calendar?” “Everyone else teased,” he released his runner and had a one-sided conversation with him. “If he’ll show that mighty cock, I have to seize this opportunity.” He paused, and then, filling in the other half of the argument, added, “But no one else did, so it would throw off the calendar.” He paused again, and then taking up the first half, suggested, “Compromise? Show most, not all?” I had been standing in a neutral stance, but I decided I had to end this man’s torture. I spread my legs further apart so my cock and balls dangled between my legs. I then began swaying back and forth so they would swing, showing their weight. That made up Nicholas’s mind. “Okay, we’re making erotica, not a monster movie. Get the prop. Now, you, November. In this picture, you are getting ready for the big game. You’re fresh out of a hot shower, and the camera catches you getting dressed.” “If you made it a cold shower, my nipples would be hard,” I suggested. Nicholas turned to the other runner. “Get November some ice.” The second runner ran off. The first runner came back from the costumer with an athletic cup, and I laughed. “What’s so funny?” the runner asked. I held the standard-sized athletic cup in front of my meat to show how woefully inadequate it was. Nicholas growled, “Are you serious?” Then he snorted. “For the love of fuck, get him something big enough!” As the runner scurried back to the prop table, Nicholas said to me, “He’s my nephew, or I’d fire him.” The runner was stumped. He hadn’t brought anything big enough to suffice. So, I put up my finger to tell them all to wait, and poked my head around the cordon. “James, my bag.” James handed me my bag, and I went back around the cordon. I took my jock out of my bag, held it in front of me as though I were about to step into it, and asked, “How’s this?” Nichola grunted his approval and then yelled, “Ice!” The second runner came up to me and offered me a bowl of ice. I took a handful and iced my nipples until they were hard and sharp. The first runner then handed me a towel, which I draped over one shoulder. I put my jock back into position. Nicholas then shouted a bunch of directions in a row about how to hold my body, and I complied. He was about to take the first photo, when he whispered something to the second runner, who swapped the towel with a tiny wash cloth. Once the swap was made, I returned to the exact same pose, and Nicholas took a dozen photos in rapid succession. After he had his shot, he turned to his costumer. “Do we have a pouch big enough for him?” “Pardon?” I asked. “The last shot’s all 11 guys—the group shot. Everyone else is going to be wearing a modesty pouch, but I’m pretty sure these fuckwits didn’t bring one big enough for you, and you’ll go commando.” He thought about it for a moment, then added, “The would be great for the photo, but shit for their egos.” Then, to the costumer he said, “Give him the biggest one, see if it fits.” The costumer came over with what looked like a beige colored sock with an elastic ring at the top. I put one testicle in, then the other, and then there was no room for my shaft. The costumer, undaunted, handed me a second pouch just for my cock. All by itself, the cock was thick enough to hold the elastic in place. “The difference between a professional and an idiot nephew,” Nicholas decreed. The other guys all came back behind the cordon. The conceit for this picture was that we were all in a huddle. The guys on the team protested that huddles were more of a football thing than a soccer thing—something I did not know—but they relented when he explained the camera would be pointing up from underneath us in the middle, making us all look like giants. When the shoot was done, we all got dressed. James and Dave were happy to see us, and as we were about to leave the studio, Nicholas came up to me, lit a cigarette three feet from a No Smoking sign, and called out, “November.” I turned around instinctively. “Who represents you?” “Represents?” “Agent. Manager. Whoever got you this gig. You’re clearly a ringer.” “I’ve never done this before. I’m on the soccer team. Technically.” “That was your first nude photoshoot?” “That was my first photoshoot,” I corrected. He handed me his card. “If you ever want to take pictures like the one we almost took, I’d love to work with you again. This time, I’d pay you.” “You’re not hitting on me, are you?” I said. “My boyfriend …” Nicholas interrupted me. “Fuck no,” he said, flicking some ashes. “I have a wife and two mistresses. I need to take the photograph you deserve because I take photos of beautiful people. Who gives a fuck if they’re men or women? Beauty’s beauty. I would love to shoot beautiful you again. I could do a whole gallery show on you.” “Maybe,” I said, and the four of us left the studio. Once we were away from the art building, James asked, “When you thought he was hitting on you, were you tempted?” “Not even a little.” “He was hot,” James admitted. “The only thing hot about him is his beard,” I said, kissing James on the cheek. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.” That was the moment James decided to grow a beard.

What's that smell? I wonder as I enter the seemingly deserted house. "Dad? Hello?" The weird mixed smell of burning grew stronger as I headed toward the door leading to the basement. I was worried. Dad's certainly not been the same since mom left a year ago. He's not been eating properly, lost heaps of confidence and just lately he's been secluded and quiet, keeping himself to himself. As I opened the door I could hear what sounded like....chanting? What the hell? I slowly headed down the flight of stairs and as I did I saw my dad come in to view, sat cross legged on the floor, dressed in his pyjamas, surrounded by lit candles and staring deeply at his reflection in a large mirror while he finished chanting some kind of ancient language. What the hell was going on? My dad then stood up and turned toward me, he didn't even look surprised or embarrassed that I saw him just doing some weird chant. - ah son, great timing! You should say goodbye to the father you thought you knew - What do you mean Dad?! What the hells going on? Just then a sharp wind powered up outside and smashed the small basement window and whirled inside engulfing my dad. My Dad though seemed to welcome this mini tornado engulfing him. It felt...hot! I could feel the heat radiating from it. It had some kind of red hue to it as well. My dad lifted his arms to his side, opened his mouth and the mini red tornado dove inside him! What the hell was going on? What did he mean by the father I thought I knew? - AHHHH YES! I CAN FEEL IT SON! - What Dad? What can you feel? - power, son!...ultimate power! And as I saw something changing...My dad inching taller and taller....surpassing me, heading toward 7 feet tall...I knew exactly what was happening now...and I was glad to have a front row seat. - hahahaha YES, everyone will have to look up to me now son. FUCK!! My dad then started filling out his pyjamas with obscene amounts of muscle piling on by the second! His body weight must have increased from his average 170lbs....to 200lbs....to 250lbs.....to 300lbs! As his pyjamas gave way to mountain like shoulders and pecs, monstrous veiny arms, tree trunk like legs and a cobble stone like 8 pack! The only piece of clothing that still remained and what my dad kept hidden was a bright red pair of posing trunks sporting a huge package! - AHHHHH YES! What do you think to your old man now son? I'm a god damn bodybuilder! Always wanted to get away with a pair of these on! Hahaha My dad was in fucking heaven as he continued to grow and grow, and flex in his trunks! Piling on more muscle and inching up higher and higher toward the ceiling! - Holy shit Dad! When are you gonna stop! - stop! Nah son this feels too fucking good! Bet you wish you were this big! Do I wish I was that big? Obscenely muscular and the biggest man on earth! HELL YEAH! - of course I wish I was that big Dad! You're a fucking god! - then let's be gods together! Open wide! And with that my dad opened his mouth and the red tornado came flying out heading straight for me! Forcing my mouth open and down my gullet! - FUCCCCCK! I CAN FEEL IT! - Time to grow, boy! It was like an explosion inside me, a sensational explosion as I grew taller and taller and wider, bones snapping and cracking and rebuilding themselves to accommodate all my new mass! My will made my growth faster as I burst out my clothes and caught up with my dad in mere moments flexing a godlike double biceps! We must have both been 12 feet tall and weighed about 1000lbs each! My dad was still in his posing trunks that were struggling to contain his package and there was me, completely naked, my cock completely hard and stood to attention at 15 inches! Not that I cared! I was a freakin behemoth! - wow son! Looks like you have me beat in the cock department! Let's see if we can fix that! And with that my dad concentrated with his hands on his hips and actually willed his cock to grow! The thing bulged inside the posing trunks, then completely burst out like a torpedo being fired completely destroying the trunks, the cock shot up to 1 foot.....2 foot. And thick as an anaconda! - OOHHHH YEAH! THAT'S A REAL MANS COCK BOY! - Fuck Dad! Let me catch up! I found that I was able to will my cock to grow too! I matched my dad's and we both began stroking our monstrous dicks, flexing and worshipping each other. - No more ordinary life left for us at this size boy! Might as well keep going! C'mon! Concentrate with me! Becoming a giant with my Dad? FUCK YEAH! And we concentrated!....and we grew! Bursting out from our house in mere seconds ready to show the world their new gods! Higher and higher we grew! Our muscles and cocks growing in proportion. We flattened cars. Then we grew even bigger. Then we flattened houses. Then we grew even bigger! Then we fucked skyscrapers! People ran in terror. Then the military attacked. Their bullets and rocket launchers bounced off our skin like nothing as we laughed! We had a fun time disposing off them. Me and my dad winked at each other before stroking our huge cannons and firing load after load back at our attackers! Me and dad were gods on earth thanks to his little spell. Being worshipped in all our glory. Our power was limitless. I sometimes willed myself to grow an extra cock, or extra arms, just to heighten my pleasures. My Dad was just happy willing himself a new pair of blue posing trunks to accommodate his gargantuan size and cock. Life was good.

Spanish Decidí hacerle una pequeña broma al nerd de mi hermano sabía que iba a tener una pequeña reunión con sus amigos y ya que estábamos en verano iban a utilizar la piscina de nuestros padres para nadar un rato. Así que unos días antes ordene una botella de tinte de broma según el sitio solo tenía que agregarla al agua de la piscina y quienquiera que se metiera saldría con la piel pintada de azul y con comezón. La botella de tinte llego, pero era algo diferente a la que ordene en lugar de decir tinte azul decía tinte musculoso con un pequeño dibujo de un brazo flexionado en la botella imagine que tal vez se habían agotado el tinte azul y me habían mandado un sustituto que funcionara similar. No tenía tiempo ya que los amigos nerd de mi hermano no tardarían en llegar vacié la botella en nuestra pequeña piscina y me senté a esperar que llegar a mi hermano con sus amigos Unos minutos más tarde vi como enteraban al patio mi hermano junto con sus dos amigos un grupo de nerds flacuchos en traje de baño mi hermano el mayor nerd de todos con sus gruesos lentes corta estatura y peinado de hongo, sus otros amigos también eran nerds, pero ambos lo rebasaban por unos cm y no eran tan esqueléticos como mi hermano. Mi hermano y sus amigos no perdieron tiempo y saltaron a la piscina yo observaba desde la ventana intentando no reírme al verlos entrar al agua. Espere unos minutos que pasara algo, pero simplemente chapoteaban y nadaban sin preocupaciones. Por un momento pensé que me habían estafado y esa botella no hacía nada. sin embargo, de repente uno de los amigos de mi hermano se empezó a quejar que sus músculos se sentían adoloridos y comenzó a rascarse, pronto mi hermano y el otro amigo comentaron lo mismo todos salieron del agua y comenzaron a masajear sus cuerpos delgaduchos. Sali al jardín a burlarme al parecer la botella era una especie de líquido pica pica, sin embargo, algo estaba pasándole a mi hermano y sus amigos. Mientras masajeaban sus cuerpos pareciera que sus cuerpos comenzaban a expandirse .Mi ojos se abrieron como platos mientras veía los delgaduchos cuerpos de mi hermano y sus amigos empezarse a llenar de bultos pero no eran bultos de hinchazón o comezón sino que sus músculos en verdad se empezaron a hinchar .Sus brazos los cuales eran como fideos engordaron con capa sobre capa de musculo convirtiéndose en unos bíceps gigantescos y bien definidos, su pechos los cuales eran planos y dejaban ver las costillas comenzaron a llenarse hasta convertirse en enormes y voluptuosos pectorales . sus abdominales los cuales antes se marcaban un poco debido a la nula cantidad de grasa que tenían ahora eran un 8 pacle perfectamente definido y macizo. por último, sus piernas flacuchas comenzaron a engordar para poder soportar sus nuevos y musculosos cuerpo, pero no solo eso, sino que se empezaron a alargar también pronto vi como sus cabezas se alzaban más yemas hasta que me rebasaban yonque daba a la altura de sus grandes pectorales. finalmente su crecimiento termino y me sentía empequeñecido ya no estaba enfrente de unos adolescentes flacuchos pero en lugar de eso enfrente de 3 gigantes enormes llenos de músculos , el cambio que más me impacto fue el de mi hermano su cara seguía siendo la misma de un nerd con esos anteojos gruesos pero ahora estaba conectado al cuerpo de un coloso, el seguí siendo el más bajo de los tres pero su cuerpo ahora debía medir cerca de 1.90 y era ahora el más musculoso por alguna razon.Mi hermano y sus amigo empezaron a reír mientras flexionaban y sentían sus duros cuerpos, yo seguí incrédulo mire hacia el agua era obvio que la poción tenía algo que ver intente saltar a la piscina tal vez ala poción aun tuviera efecto pero antes de poder hacer algo mi hermano y sus amigos rápidamente se pusieron en mi camino bloqueándome como un muro de músculos enormes. Ellos también habían deducido que el agua les había hecho algo y que yo tenía algo que ver con esto, aunque el resultado no fuera lo que esperaba. mi hermano finalmente hablo su voz sonaba ahora gruesa y masculina "Hay chicos creo que ya hemos nadado lo suficiente que le parece si vamos adentro a jugar un poco con mi hermano mayor" dijo con una sonrisa, yo solo veía con impotencia mientras estos mojados y musculosos gigantes me empujaban con facilidad al interior de la casa... English I decided to make a little joke to my nerdy brother , I knew that he was going to have a small meeting with his friends and since we were in summer they were going to use our parents' pool to swim for a while. So a few days before I ordered a bottle of dye according to the site I only had to pour it into the pool water and whoever got into it would come out with the skin painted blue and itchy. The bottle of dye came but it was something different to what I ordered instead of saying blue dye said muscle dye with a small drawing of an arm flexed in the bottle. I imagine that maybe they had sent a substitute that worked Similar . I did not have time to order a new one since my brother's nerdy friends would soon arrive so I empty the bottle in our little pool and I sat down to wait for my brother to arrive with his friends A few minutes later I saw my brother and his two friends in a bathing suits arrive to the backyard, my brother the biggest nerd of all with his thick glasses short stature and mushroom like hairstyle, his other friends were also nerds but They were a few inches taller and were not as skeletal as my brother. My brother and his friends did not waste time and jumped into the pool and I watched from the window trying not to laugh when I saw them enter the water. I waited a few minutes for something to happen but they just splashed and swam without worry. For a moment I thought I had been swindled and that bottle did not do anything. However, suddenly one of my brother's friends started to complain that his muscles were sore and he began to scratch, soon my brother and the other friend commented the same thing, they all came out of the water and began to massage their skinny bodies. I went out to the garden to mock, however something was happening to my brother and his friends. As they chewed their bodies, it seemed that their bodies were beginning to expand. My eyes widened as I watched the thin bodies of my brother and his friends begin to fill with lumps but they were not lumps of swelling or itching but they were their muscles that started. to inflate. His arms which were like noodles fattened with layer upon layer of muscle becoming giant and well defined biceps, his chest which were flat and allow you to see their ribs began to fill up to become huge and voluptuous pectorals. his abdominal muscles which were marked a little earlier due to the null amount of fat that they had now were a perfectly defined and solid 8 pack. finally their skinny legs began to gain weight to support their new and muscular bodies not only that but they began to lengthen too. soon I saw how their headd rose more and more until they surpass me. finally his growth ended and I felt dwarfed I was not in front of some skinny teenagers but instead of 3 huge giants full of muscles, the change that hit me the most was my brothers, his face was still the same as a nerd with those thick glasses but now he was connected to the body of a colossus, he was still the lowest of the three but his body should now measure about 1.90 and he was the most muscular by any means. My brother and his friends started to laugh while they flexed and felt their hard bodies, I continued to look incredulous towards the water it was obvious that the potion had something to do try to jump into the pool maybe the potion still had effect but before I could do anything my brother and his friends quickly got on my way blocking me like a wall of huge muscles. They had also deduced that the water had done something to them and that I had something to do with this although the result was not what I expected. my brother finally spoke his voice sounded now thick and masculine "Hey guys I think we've already swum enough that sparks if we go inside to play a little with my older brother" he said with a smile, I only watched helplessly while these wet and muscular giants pushed me with ease to the interior of the house...

“Why don’t we shake hands to start the match?” The big guy smiled. God, these dumb jock-boys were all the same. He thought just because he was a little taller and looked a few more pounds heavier he’d show off in a handshake. We locked hands and the big oaf immediately squeezed with almost all of his might. He was sure this would be a short match. They sure didn’t come any dumber. I was impressed by his strength – not to mention the giant size of his hand – but it barely registered to my own mitt that he was squeezing. I rolled my eyes in an expression that made it clear I didn’t feel a thing. This caused him great consternation and he doubled his efforts. I decided it was time for me to squeeze. I loved how his face went from determination to shock to utter panic as he began to feel the mighty force of my grip – the kind of tightening that was usually reserved for humongous machines. I could feel his fingers starting to break at the knuckles – the crushing sound kind of turning me on. Suddenly, red lights were flashing and I heard ‘system malfunction’ over a loudspeaker in the distance. The inside of his hand was literally turning to dust. I was enjoying demolishing what I held. I squeezed harder and at the same time I jerked my arm back. The poor dude’s hand came ripping off with just one tug. He held the stub up in the air and had a look on his face that was priceless – he saw only wires, electrical sparks, and smoke where his hand should have been. “God, I hate bots,” I said. I then pulled my right hand back, squeezing it into a ball, and let the powerful thing fly into the mid section of the guy in front of me. My fist plummeted though his stomach coming out the back leaving a good size hole where his abs used to be. Now sirens were really going off. I could hear in the distance voices over the loudspeakers saying something to the effect of sending in the entire battalion of prototypes to take care of me. Oh boy, I thought, they’re going to send in more. I reached down with my other hand and grabbed both sides within the hole at the guy’s gut. I then pulled my hands apart – ripping the dude completely in two as the doors to the large room opened and about forty other ‘prototypes’ came trampling into the room. It sounded cool to have that many feet pounding on the floor as they entered. This was going to be fun. I still marveled at how I could tear a guy in two – from his groin to his head – with just a little outward yank of my arms. I held the two halves of the big guy in both my hands. He had thought I would be weak – that was his biggest, and last, mistake. The eyes on both sides of the split head still blinked. It was really creepy. I tossed the two pieces to the side and surveyed the little gang that had been sent to do me in. I knew the head guy on this bot project had a secret crush on a porn star named Zeb Atlas – so every single prototype resembled the guy. I wasn’t complaining – the dude was hot – but it was a little strange to see forty identical versions of him staring at me from across the room. I knew the bots were waiting for orders and I knew somewhere a few rooms away some of the army’s top brass was watching all the action. The top general had said no prototype would be allowed into combat until I had been beaten. I was the only thing preventing androids from going into battle for our country and surely killing many civilians. That was the main reason I didn’t mind being so violent – to show them that they weren’t close to winning. Besides, crushing bots was fun. Two of the Zebs were clearly given the orders to attack. They moved toward me. I stood there – stock still – waiting for their first move. The onslaught of intense punches to my stomach – coming from the two big men – would have been too much for any normal man, but then I wasn’t normal. I had been changed – made into something even far superior than bots. I had, in fact, been made stronger, faster, and smarter than the bots on purpose. A man named Dr. Dan Quigley had made it possible for me to become the immovable super structure that deflected punches in the same way a racing windshield splattered insects. Dr. Dan, as I now called him, disliked what the army wanted to do with bots even more than I did. We had become friends at a local watering hole a few years ago and he had quickly figured out I had a certain fetish he could enhance a hundred fold. One night, after many shots of tequila, we had surprised the hell out of each other and ended up in his bed fucking like rabbits. During our multiple rounds of sexual intercourse that night I made it very clear I had a strong desire for alpha status – flipping him in every direction I wanted to serve my needs, and his, by the way. He must have connected with my intense need to dominate on a different level than most people did because he chose me out of everyone else for a little proposal he had been working on. As we lay in bed – my cock still piercing his tight ass – we chatted intimately, loving how it felt to be connected in that way. “What if I could make it so nothing could stop you?” he asked, and I heard seriousness in his voice that caught my attention. “What – you mean like advancing me up in the army – maybe making it to general?” I asked, totally satisfied with the possibility of advancing up to round three of plowing him crazy. “No, I mean like a fucking charging rhino couldn’t stop you,” he answered – still with the same serious tone. My cock hardened inside of him and he squeezed his ass – fully aware that his words had definitely piqued my interest. The man had clearly caught on to my hidden desire to be indestructible – powerful beyond anyone’s wildest imagination. “I’m talking about the kind of advancement that would enable you to stop a speeding train,” he said, egging me on more and my cock responded in the same manner as before. “And what if I could make it where you’d become more powerful every time you had sex?” I immediately wondered how the guy had caught on to my two most favorite things in the world – strength and pounding ass – in such a short amount of time. My most secret fantasy was to have the strength of a thousand men. I wanted to be so powerful that I went through the day differently than other people. I’d move slower – taking my time – knowing that if I got some place late and doors were locked I could easily rip them open or just bust through the wall any time I wanted. I secretly desired to be able to pick up the overweight jerk that got in the eight items or less aisle with over fifty things in his cart and easily toss him to the rafters of our local Costco. I wanted to be able to put my forefinger on the hood of the SUV that parked across three spots at a crowded lot and press so hard that the hood, roof, and entire body of the vehicle caved in at the middle, making it look like a creased piece of paper with its tires sticking out to the side. And the idea of pounding my way into that kind of superhuman power go me so excited I deposited another huge cum account into the doctor’s ass right then and there. I still don’t know why I never questioned the man. I somehow knew, instinctively, he was a person who could back up his words with action. I just understood he could do everything he offered. In the same way, he knew I was the right man for the job. I clearly had the aggression he sought, the desire to be powerful, and he realized I needed sex in the same way a fish needed water. He had a feeling my appetite for doing the nasty would even surpass his original plans for his test subject. A week later he was injecting me with a fluid specifically made for my DNA that made my cells thicker, stronger, and more powerful every time I came. I’m pretty sure the doc wasn’t prepared to have me plow his ass six times in those next few hours, but I really wanted to start my journey into super powers as quickly as possible and, besides, the injections made me super horny. Being able to lift one hundred more pounds than usual the next day in the gym had been all the encouragement I needed. I went straight to the doctor’s lab after my workout and pounded him loudly in one of the bathroom stalls. It was during that particular round of satisfying sex that I realized the doctor had wanted all of this just as much as I did. As I easily held him in the air and fucked him savagely he looked at me with so much gratitude – so much incredible happiness – that I complexly understood he needed the sex on the same level as I did. The Doc was a dirty whore and that was amazing. I had a fuck buddy who would never get tired of my incessant need for pounding. As a matter of fact, he needed it just as much. I fell in love with the guy right then and there – as my power hungry cock bounced him up and down in my arms. I knew he’d be my only source of growth for the rest of our lives. It also became obvious that the Doc wanted me to grow powerful as much as I did myself. Many nights I was awakened to the incredible sounds and feelings of the guy slurping my rod under the sheets and when he realized I was finally awake he’d jump up and impale himself on my hard shaft and then hang on like some kind of bull riding champ as I started thrusting. He even came to my office on numerous occasions and scoped out a utility closet where we could lock the door and I could smash his body against the concrete wall as I made him heavier from dumping mega loads of my thick juice into his ass. I actually became alarmed that the Doc might be some kind of crazed nymphomaniac, but that’s when he told me about the army’s plan for prototype robots and I instantly shared his distrust and hatred for the program. He explained that the Colonel had told him to create a being to compete against the robots. The Colonel clearly had not intended the competitor to be a live human – but the doctor was light years ahead of any scientist of artificial intelligence and realized creating Terminator-like beings to fight each other would never work. He needed something with human emotions and the ability to think outside the box. That’s when he had stumbled upon a serum that could make me pack on so much thickness that it would seem I’d gown a lot bigger, but it was just be reinforced cells becoming denser and denser. I was now so swollen I looked like a guy with normal height, but with the bulk of two Incredible Hulks packed into my body. I fucked the Doc senseless that first week – watching my power reach new goals: lifting heavy weights, bending rebar, picking up the back of the Doc’s truck, and then taking on early editions of the prototype bots. The first few bouts with a bot one-on-one were pretty close. The early bots were strong and I was still beginning to grow – but over the next year I had averaged out to rutting the Doc four or five times a day and sometimes as many as eight times in a twenty-four hour period. This had made my strength and compactness improve expediently. I’d been easily destroying bots for so long it had actually become quite boring. That’s why I was so excited that the powers-that-be had decided to up the ante by letting me take on a lot more bots at one time. Part Two Back in the room with the prototype robots, the two Zeb Atlas look-a-likes in black suits were pummeling my stomach with their best punches, but I wasn’t feeling a thing. I imagined it bothered the bots a lot that I didn’t move even a smidgen as they punched away. Man, I loved frustrating bots and their makers. They didn’t even realize their fists were being dented in and ruined as they hit my powerful abs. Demolished machines, just because my tummy was so strong – you had to love it. I moved with lighting speed for something so dense and muscle packed – grabbing both men around the neck with my thick fingers. I marveled at how lifelike and fucking hot they had made these prototypes – the V of my hand grasping skin-covered machinery, but it felt like humans. Even though both bots were probably over three hundred pounds each, I easily lifted them off the floor. I squeezed harder – listening as hard metal crunched and millions of dollars of technology was destroyed by my powerful grip. Suddenly, both heads lopped to the side, draped over my fingers, as I completely stopped all electrical current and computer messages from passing to the body from the head. Arms and legs immediately went limp and the punching stopped. Two more bots lifeless in my hands – how great that made me feel. I had crushed their necks into wet noodles – metallic bones destroyed by my powerful hands. I shook the two bodies a little to make sure there was no current remaining – their big frames flopping around in my hands. I debated what to do with the two big pieces of junk – wanting to freak out the top brass watching me through the cameras. I lowered my densely packed arms and then swung them upward with much force – sending the two demolished bots upward. Pieces of the ceiling sprinkled down around me as they plowed through it. Their upper bodies disappeared until the only thing we could still see were their legs and finely shaped hot asses hanging down. I got a little turned on by the construction of those hot, bubbled muscled butts. Throwing two guys though the roof was a big turn on. I undid the top button of my shorts and reached in to squeeze my cockhead hard – just to give myself a little thrill. There was no bigger turn on that crushing bots. I knew I’d need to plow the Doc hard after I finished playing with the rest of these Zebs. I looked up at the hot asses and thought about how much fun it might be to plow a bot until he was destroyed – my powerful dick ripping the bot apart from behind. Feeling my cock shove through all that dense machinery would bring the kind of excitement I was always searching for and could give Doc much needed break. It was very clear I was going to need release very soon. That’s when three of the remaining big men jumped on me. The army was so damn predictable. It was time to try three bots since two had been unable to do the job. Forget about letting all of them rush me at the same time – we had to do this systematically. I would have loved to take all of them on at one time – but then it would have been over way too quickly. I wouldn’t get to edge my cock as much as I would from demolishing a few at a time - until they were all destroyed. I imagined the Colonel’s own cock getting hard as he watched three huge bots jump on top of me and my legs didn’t buckle a bit. Carrying the weight of three big guys was nothing and I wished again it was all of the men on top of me. I didn’t stagger or hesitate at all. I simply walked over to one wall – easily transporting the little gang of bots – presently punching away at whatever part of my body was near them – and stood there with tree trunk like legs spread slightly apart. I did a few squats with the over 900 pounds on my body – simply to emphasize the power in my legs. There was an ever-slight burn, like I would get after I did five thousand steps on the stairs machine. I knew having fifty bots piled on top of me wouldn’t even slow me down, so three was a piece of cake. After a few squats, I reached up and grabbed one man at a time – easily pinning all three of them together against the wall. They were lined up back to front and I easily held them in place with one huge thick hand on the first bot’s expansive, hard chest. My powerful palm started to press against the first guy – all three of the bots struggling hard to try and free themselves. Just for show, I decided to flex my other arm as I did my demolishing. It was mainly for Doc, whom I knew would love it, but it was certainly cool if other people watching from the mystery room got off on my bulging thick biceps, too. Showing off my power to bots was one thing, but real men freaking out as I did some amazing strength feat got my juices boiling quicker than anything. I imagined I could see panic on the first guy’s face – if bots could show panic. I knew the computer in his head was desperately trying to figure out what to do to alleviate the tremendous pressure at its chest. Maybe the computer working overtime was the same thing as panic. I pushed in harder – still using a fraction of what I was truly capable of. I looked over at my own flexed giant gun – knowing the sight would give my cock a little jolt of pleasure. It was at that moment I realized I was holding these three bots against the wall with my arm not even fully extended. It was bent at the elbow, like I was at the start of pushing a door open. I pressed my arm out to a full extension, like it was just an afterthought. Suddenly, the first guy’s chest cavity gave in with a loud pop and his front folded inward toward the second man. I watched as the bot’s eyes went blank – his entire system ruined as I easily crushed his body. It had felt like I was pushing in cardboard. Compressing the hell out of a dude was such an awesome feeling. He was so powerless to my one hand – all three of them were. The lifeless body of the bot kept deflating as I smashed all the state-of-the-art technology within. The other two bots behind started squirming more frantically, clearly they were feeling more pressure and their computer brains were freaking out. “Your friend, there, suddenly lost a lot of weight. He’ll easily fit in tight spaces, now.” Toying with the bots was such a kick. There little brains tried to compute what my joke meant even as their body told them to focus on releasing the tremendous pressure against their chests. I wonder if it even registered that one of their own had just been crushed into something as thin as a laptop. I decided to test a theory that popped into my head. I leaned into my push – shoving against the floor with my back leg with a little more force. It still wasn’t all the power I had to offer, but I wondered if it was enough to attain my desired goal. Crushing one guy’s chest had offered up a loud noise, but it didn’t come close to the loud explosion when the remaining two in my little trapped line-up popped at the same time. This time, the dude’s body at the back, against the wall, burst open from the pressure and computer bits, electrical parts, and the like came flying out. That just made me push harder and faster, causing his innards to splatter against the wall and floor around him. I just kept on pushing. Soon the feet of all three bots started coming off the floor as I easily shoved their bodies into the concrete wall behind them. It was like when you stuff a strip of rubber in the hole of a tire and the two ends stick out as you continue to press in. The bodies folded in on themselves around my hand as I rammed their bodies into concrete like it was nothing. Soon, all you could see were three heads mixed in with six legs sticking out from this hole in the wall. That view, combined with the legs and butts dangling from the ceiling made it look like I was installing some modern art exhibit in the room. I turned around to the remaining bots in the room and threw my humongous pumped body into a most muscular pose, while letting out the kind of roar usually reserved for an angry King Kong. I must have scared the shit out of some technician in the other room and made his hands panic at the keyboard because every remaining bot took a step back, as if they had truly been freaked out. Scaring the hell out of bots – I loved the thought of that. I was now tired of being on the pansy-ass defensive. I wanted to be in attack mode. I wanted to show the brass in the other room what a real weapon of mass destruction could do. I walked forward and grabbed the nearest bot by his clothing at chest level. As I effortlessly lifted his body into the air I grabbed his crotch with my other hand – freaking out, again, that these hulking creatures didn’t have hot large endowments below. I swear it would have made them stronger. I took aim quickly and pummeled the guy through the air at two bots standing near a huge metal cabinet across the room. I threw the guy with so much force that when he connected with the other two they immediately came off the floor like a tornado had suddenly sucked them into the air. All three bots went slamming into the massive metal cabinet with so much force that the thing dented in, crushing all the equipment inside and totally destroying the bodies of the trio. Again, the men remained compressed in the metal cabinet to add another sculpture to my exhibit. I didn’t waste a second to stop and admire my handiwork. I immediately shot out my left fist straight into the face of the unprepared bot now standing beside me. To have your unstoppable knuckles connect with a nose, instantly smash it to smithereens, and then continue to drive forward taking out a chunk of a face and making an almost perfect circular hole in a guy’s head was almost as good as hot sweaty sex, but not exactly. The dude’s disconnected bashed-in face went flying backward as my fist stuck out of the back of his head. When I pulled my arm out, the bot miraculously remained standing. I figured the guy’s original stance had been really strong and balanced. I merely inhaled and then let out a quick burst of breath in his direction. The ruined machine fell backwards to the ground. I looked around for what to do next. A weight set in the corner of the room, long abandoned because I had become so freakishly strong that all of the plates combined gave me no resistance whatsoever, became my next choice toy to help me wreck havoc. I couldn’t believe the dudes in the other room hadn’t snapped to attention yet and ordered a counter attack, but then I figured they were still cleaning themselves off from my most muscular pose – having cum on the spot or pissed themselves. I grabbed, with one hand, an empty steel barbell sitting on a rack and moved with lightning speed. I slammed the end of the bar into the lower abs of a bot to my left – causing the thing to penetrate his body easily. I then lifted him from the ground and sent the bar flying to my right, skewering another bot in the same fashion. I then lifted the bar above my head, taking the two still moving bots into the air as if they weighed nothing. Man, making two guys into my barbell bitches was such a turn on as I lifted them up and down a few times I had to reach back into my shorts and stroke my hard cock – loving the idea of my cute Doc doing the same thing in the other room. I slid the bar in between my first two fingers and started twirling it hard above my head. Within seconds both huge men went soaring off across the room, taking out a few bots as they traveled and then slamming hard enough into the walls to cause concrete blocks to be shoved into the other rooms. Suddenly, there was much action in the room. The army had clearly had enough of my playing. The entire brigade of bots sprung into action. My dream of taking on about twenty of them at one time was about to come true. I watched as bots picked up their own weapons – some grabbed other empty barbells, one picked up a heavy metal chair, and one even impressively ripped a chin-up bar from one of the doorframes. I couldn’t help myself and started to leak pre-cum from the sheer enjoyment of what was about to come. When you are as strong as I was – as invincible – there is a certain amount of confidence . . . hell, let’s just call it cockiness that enables you to stand taller, wider, and more powerful than anything around you. I looked at the sea of bots in front of me and actually chuckled out loud. They had no idea what they were about to face – even after seeing all that I had done before. It was mainly because their masters in the other room didn’t see it, either. These guys only did as they were told. The numerous top army brass in the other room, probably all secretly stroking themselves, assumed they had seen my limits. They were calculating what it would take to defeat me. How could those men know that everything, so far, had been child’s play for me? Squeezing, crushing, and breaking bots came as easy as brushing my teeth. Doc had continued to mold me into something unstoppable . . . something that could not be destroyed – over the last few years. I raised my now empty barbell and tossed it like a javelin. It easily speared one of the bots in the chest, lifted him into the air, and then carried him across the room until the thing sank into the wall like an arrow hitting a target. That was my sign to let the fun begin – a bot dangling from the wall. It was also another piece of art. Bots with weapons raced at me all at the same time. Barbells, dumbbells, a steel chin-up bar, and a metal chair all hit my body at the same time. The anticipation was that I would surely go down. I believe even the bots thought I would fall to their crushing blows – if they had been able to think. Everything bounced off since their weapons met something much more dense and immovable. I let out another loud roar and raised my arms into a jaw-dropping double biceps pose. The hands of every bot were registering massive reverberations because I had easily deflected their blows. I released my pose and first grabbled the big metal chair that was still shaking in the bots hands. I noticed it was no problem for me to hold the big thing in one hand, but he had used two. I jerked it from his grip quickly and then brought the thing above his head. Reaching up with my other hand I grabbed the backside and bent it towards the seat. I caught the bots head in between the two as I easily twisted metal like it was only a paperclip. Smashing his head in the demolished chair gave me such satisfaction. I watched as his face came squeezing out between the metal rungs on the back. I let go and the bot was still standing with a big metal blob crushed around his head. I swung my arm in a circle a little harder than anticipated and hit the guy’s midsection with the butt of my palm. He shot across the room with so much momentum that he plowed through a wall – leaving a big bot-sized hole. Meanwhile, the bot dude with the thick chin-up bar had regained control of his hands and swung the steel thing with all of his might into the side of my head. I heard it smack against me, I could sense the thing bending to the contours of my face, but not only was there not any pain, I only felt a slight tap – not even enough to make me blink. The poor bot’s hands were now so stunned they had to let go of the bar, which stayed plastered to the side of my head. I reached up and pulled it off. While the bot was still trying to recover from the shock my head had brought to his body, I quickly twisted the steel around his neck. I tightened his new thick necklace and then grabbed both ends of the pole. I pulled strongly and swiftly as if merely tightening a knot. I decapitated the bot with one smooth tug of the bar. His head went flying a few feet away and I then placed my right hand on the exposed part of his mechanical neck. I pushed down with tremendous strength. I compressed the bot’s body downward like a smashed paper cup. Flattening one of these big guys with just one of my powerful hands almost made me lose the load that had been edging ever since the army of dudes had entered the room, but I refrained from exploding. There was too much more fun to have. About twelve or more bots remained.

(Took a little bit from an older CYOC story, can’t remember which, and added from there) He slams the door shut behind you and sits you on his lap as he sits his muscular ass on the closed toiled lid in the guys bathroom. He then reached out with his right hand and began groping one of your ass cheeks, as you began feeling along his muscular black arm. You squeezed, but couldn't hurt his steel-hard bicep, then he flexed it for you. The large ball of muscle jumped out and you gasped, "Wow. You're so strong." "Fuck yea I am bitch," replied Carlton in a dominant tone. He pulled away from your ass to reach up and fully flex both his incredible massive arms. He had decided to take you to the bathroom stall to fuck you in private, cause he’s straight, or so you thought. Because with how eager he was getting into the bathroom alone with you, you were beginning to have second thoughts. He then flexes both of his incredibly massive bit ps again, only this time a little harder. You look up at his imposing black form as he sits on the toilet lid in the bathroom stall and you on his lap. His arms looked even bigger. "Go ahead and feel em fag'." He smirked and looked at his own impressive limbs. 'They do look bigger,' he thought. While you continued to worship Carlton’s bulging right arm, you began making out with the god stud and teasing his large black nipple at the same time. You were trying to straddle his wide left thigh and pressed your chest against his, but for some reason you were having difficulty getting positioned, almost as if as soon as you found a comfortable position, it instantly went away. Suddenly, Carlton felt very uncomfortable in his xl boxers. He pulled his tongue out of your mouth long enough to say, "Fuck nigga it felt like my pants just got tighter." You then placed your hands on his thick right pectoral and then moved them down his cut-up eight pack to his sick atlas lines. You begin to anxiously undo his pants and pull them down, and was not surprised to see that the muscle jock was wearing his Calvin’s. Carlton’s thick black god cock sprang up to a full 13 inches and throbbed with as many veins as his vascular arms. And below that, big black lemon sized balls pumped testosterone and hormones into is godly form. The wide root was hidden by a large amount of black hair that was framed by his incredibly muscular thighs. You gasped at this porn-star sized dick. "Oh my god. You're big," you said, sounding incredibly aroused. "Fuck yea I am, I’m a huge fucking black god!" said Carlton who was too entranced with his own muscles to notice he was a good inch longer than usual and that his voice was slightly deeper. You then began swallowing his huge veiny black cock down your throat, “Fuck, that feels sooo good." The feeling of his fat black head deep down your throat made him shudder. He puts his hand on the back of your head and forces your head down it further. You start sucking, and are surprised, but not really, to feel him shove his cock deep down your throat so far as to where your nose is smashed up against his body. But then you feel him do it what seems like a second time, only much further, even though he never pulled out between thrusts. You then feel like his cock is quickly being filled up like a balloon as it fills up your mouth and throat to an unreal level. As his cock throbs bigger in your mouth, you feel Carlton’s already massive nuts begin to surge bigger underneath your chin. You reach up with both hands to feel that they have grown to each being goose-egg sized stuffed in his underwear. Once your hands, through the fabric of his underwear, make contact with each of his giant nuts though, Carlton stretches out and bulges your throat and mouth so full with his, now 20in and increasing, god cock that it begins to stretch past humanly possible. And you begin to worry he could tell that. “Oh fuck me that felt good, but don’t do that again, my huge balls are sensitive and I don’t want to outgrow this stall just yet.” You looked up at him in extreme arousal after hearing what just left his mouth. “Yea thats fuckin right fag!” He said looking down on you “choking” on his huge black dick puffing out of your mouth with size and power bulging all the way down to your throat oozing pre into your stomach. “I found out you are magic and can grow people with your arousal a while ago. But then I also found out that you are attracted to dominance, and well... you know me” he said as he made his big muscular pecs bounce. “And then I caught you sneaking looks at me in the dining hall and I knew, I fuckin knew I was going to become a fucking massive muscle god!” He looks down at you and flexes all of his bulging black muscles. Your cock then begins to weep pre from how hot he’s making you as you feel his junk bulges even more inhumanly large in your throat and beneath your chin. You see his muscular form then begin to take up so much space that his massive muscles arms are now touching either side of the green bathroom stall. Seeing this too then made you repeat the process as you see his abs tighten and bulge to the size of your fists as you heard a a much deeper version of Carlton’s voice escape from his quivering lips above you “Holy Fuck it feels so fuckin good, everything feels so incredible and incredibly fucking powerful...” The black god is left awestruck with his growing body and begins to feel himself up. Meanwhile you continued without success to get the god to cum but Carlton only said, “Its gonna fucking take a lot more than that to make this BEAST cum!!” So you then hoist his now massive throbbing hard cock out of your mouth and began to guide it into your ass. The waves of pleasure were so intense you couldn't even concentrate completing on your self-appointed task of fully stuffing his tremendous manhood all the way in. "OH FUCK. I feel so big. So buff. I'm a huge fucking stud. Yeah." The young god grunted, enjoying his new size. Beneath you, His big black balls slowly bulging and inflating to the size of grapefruits. Carlton had left his balls in his Calvin’s cause, one they were the most sensitive part of his body even when they were at their original size, and two he liked to see how even with his god cock out of the underwear, he can still see his two giant black nuts stretching out his underwear when he fucked someone sitting down. And now he was certainly going to see that, cause tears on Carlton’s underwear begin to form as his bulging growing black god balls fill his xl Calvin Klein white underwear to the tearing point. His immense thighs became so defined that the teardrop shape grooves were impossibly deep Carlton had started out as an, albeit above average, college alpha god stud black muscle jock, but was now a 8’10" overly muscled heavyweight bodybuilder with a twenty five inch cock. The beastly muscle nineteen year old moaned louder as he felt your tight hole growing smaller and smaller around his ever expanding black monster. "Oooh. So Fucking TIGHT BITCH. I'm too fucking GODLY AND HUGE. Yeah. Huge Muscle jock." You looked down and watched as his shelf-like pecs ballooned out, the cleft between them ran deep. His massive shoulders stretched to three feet wide, close to the size of bowling balls now. You felt his expanding abs pressing hard against your naked butt. His huge thighs continued to push your legs even wider and his head began slowly growing further away. His now incredibly muscular black body was completely filling out his stretchy workout shirt and shorts with massive muscle and black manhood. So much so to a point you could hear and see tearing coming from the fabric. His size fifteen 1/2 shoes explode off his humongus black feet. You sat on his immense thighs, having now takin Carlton’s 30’ massive cock. The feeling of his growing black veiny god cock was intensified as Carlton made a really orgasmic face and a massive involuntary thrust came from the black gods groin as his now obscenely massive nuts that were falling out of the sides of his underwear swelled massively and destroyed their previous confines flooding the god with testosterone as his body then throbs even bigger and more muscular completely destroying what was left of his clothes and leaving his growing muscular ass to begin engulfing the toilet seat. Carlton then gets harrier in certain places especially his armpits and around the base of his monolithic tower of a cock. His rich hot musk begins to fill the room, but apparently, this kind of power was not intense enough for the ever gaining power muscle jock. Carlton began lurching and thrusting his enormous, muscular haunches, as waves and waves of infinite power begin to flow into him, lifting you higher into the air. Wracked with pleasure he reaches up with his enormous black arms and grabs hold of you. You look down and yell to get his attention. His arms are now gigantic. Carltons thick bulging black forearms are bigger than your waist and his bicep peaks are easily 38 inches. The yell wakes Carlton from his pleasure dream and he lets go of you just as the god throbs bigger and the toilet collapses under the muscle giants steel-hard ass. Carlton looks down at his 10’3", 750 pound body and grins. "Shit, I am fucking huge. I'm a FUCKING MUSCLE GOD BLACK BEAST! I’M SO FUCKING STRONG I COULD DESTROY THIS BUILDING!," he yells. He then notices you, still thrust upon his now 40 inch god black cock, now looking extremely horny. He laughs at you and begins flexing and feeling his huge muscles “FUCK YEA, Make your big powerful god fucking bigger and MORE POWERFUL!” Carlton’s muscles are so massive that he takes up most of the restroom with his big black imposing god form. The giant young black god then stands to his full height, his head bumping into the ceiling, with you still impaled on his twitching thick black monster actually suspended in the air. Carlton begins to flex his huge body. “Maybe if I flex harder and show more dominance it will turn you on more.” He says hitting a double bicep pose, he laughs at the enormous muscle peaks which are bigger than your head throb and swell magnificently. "OH FUCK! GUESS FUCKING SO!” he booms. "I'm so FUCKING HUGE. I'm the biggest fuckin nigga on the fuckin planet. I fucking love being such a HUGE FUCKING MUSCLE GOD." Carlton begins to laugh and revel in his power as you quickly jump off his dick as much as you don’t want to, but you don’t know how big he’s about to get. He hits a few more double bicep poses flexing his guns and admiring how huge and godly his body now was. And while doing so he begins to stagger to the ground as if trying to hold a bolder above him as power pours into his being. All the while with each stagger, different parts of his godlike being throb and pulse outwardly larger and bigger, and especially more girthy. His ampit hair grows denser and hotter as his biceps bulged stronger and bigger, followed by all of his other giant black muscles. Carlton’s dick throbs bigger comparatively to his muscled black body, and underneath, Carlton’s massive nuts are gaining even more size to keep up with his huge black dick. Being the cocky black god that he is, Carlton wants to feel the power that each of his balls contains. So with his massive hand he tries to cup one of his balls, manages to get his hand around enough to hold it, but barely able to keep from having it fall out of his hand from the sheer mass of it. Carlton then gives it a squeeze, and not a moment later than when he did that did his massive godly body surge with incredible size and strength completely filling the entire boys bathroom. “Fuck yea I’m a fucking god nigga” Carlton said in his deep voice under his breath. “I’m gonna be a FUCKING GOD!”. He squeezed it again, then again, and then again, completely destroying the bathroom and building with his growing form all the while his bulging cock head just oozed his cum onto the ground beneath him covering some trees, then some buildings, then all of his College campus, each throb of growth induced by Carlton made him shoot his thick god load in larger and larger quantities. Carlton then squeezes hard on both of his giant powerhouse balls and in one giant surge in both size and cum, he begins to dwarf the biggest skyscrapers. The black muscle god works himself into a flexing frenzy, actually getting turned on by his new size as his body continues to expand, gaining infinitely more power to make Carlton into the muscle god he was soon to be. The biggest bodybuilders would look like dust compared to his godly form. his gigantic pecs engorged with power and bounced with every flex. Your entire apartment was the size of any of his amazing 10-pack. "OH FUCK. IM SO FUCKING BIG, AND IM ONLY GETTING FUCKING BIGGER, SO FUCKING MASSIVE. YEAH. SOON ILL BE A FUCKING GOD, OH FUCK!” Muscles bulge all over his body, “GONNA FUCKIN REALLY FUCKIN CUM!!!" His giant muscled frame exploded with veins and pumped up to unbelievable proportions as his entire body flexed at once. His incredible already inhumanly deep voice jumps down an octave as his deep godlike moans begin to rumble everything around him. His orgasm was so powerful it actually covered all of the city. As the black giant muscle god surged bigger and more powerfully into the sky, you decided that you wanted to see Carlton become the Ultimate God. You then wished that Carlton would gain so much power and godly muscle, that he would become an actual god. Carlton’s deep moan then stopped. He looked down at you in confusion and almost anger because his godly body had stopped growing. Carlton’s entire black god body then lurched and began to rise up off of the ground. His big bulging black muscle body and huge black god cock and balls began to obscenely inflate. His powerful bulging muscles then seemed to shrink for a moment, but then get ten times bigger; You notice that this is happening because they are only beginning to get infinitely denser and stronger as his huge black cock head began to ooze thick ropy cum. “YEESSSSS!!!” Carlton bellowed in his newly godly deep voice. “MAKE ME YOUR GOD!!!!” Cartons huge bulging form began to gain more and more power as the sky around him began to twist and warp due to the sheer density that Carlton’s godly body now possessed. With a huge typhoon of god cum that explodes out from his increasingly growing black dick head protruding from his exponentially growing black muscle god body, Carlton’s deeply godly voice booms, “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR NIGGA!?!?!MAKE ME YOUR FUCKING BLACK GOD!!!MAKE ME THE FUCKING GOD OF EVERYTHING!!!” You then concentrate all the energy and power around Carlton and begin to force it into his growing godly form. The black god looks down at you with an extremely dominant and almost evil grin. The black god then grabs his titanic bulging cock with both of his hands and starts to stroke it as power from all around him rushes into his being. With each orgasmicly struggled stroke the massive black god made, deep from within his giant cock comes a shudder that runs through Carlton and with that, the black gods muscle body and cock and balls bulged titanically, his muscle becoming infinitely powerful as his black godly deep voice drops even lower and gets louder and louder as all you can hear is something of a deep bellow like orgasmic moan come from the god Carlton’s muscle throat “SHIT NIGGA!!! FUCKIN SHIT NIGGA!!! SO MUCH FUCKIN POWER!!!”He then reaches back down to his balls as another powerful wave of growth hits him. “MORE NIGGA!!! MORE FUCKING POWER!!!”Carlton’s muscled twitched and bulged. He starts rubbing and needing and squeezing his big black balls with an almost brain dead look on his face as his hot lips hang wide open and drool and his eyes roll into the back of his head from the amount of orgasmic pleasure running through his bulging throbbing body. His cock starts spewing an endless stream of cum like a fire hose turned on full blast as he expands in all directions exponentially with muscle, size, power, and masculinity as his huge black body becomes buffer and stronger and bigger and more powerful then the fucking earth. Carlton then begins to shove his god cock into the earth as he feels another extremely powerful surge of growth come from deep within him. “OOHH FUCK ME!!!”Carlton’s entire being then surged bigger as his cock began to tear the world apart. His body siphoned in the earths energy through his cock as he held onto it. His big bulging muscular ass began to encroach the moon and completely encapsulate it. The giant black muscle god felt this and his asshole twitched as he crushed the moon between his ass cheeks and absorbed it’s energy. The black god moaned as the energy’s power flowed into him and his cock began to twitch and expand inside of the earth. This was followed by a large throb that cause his dickhead alone to grow bigger then the earth as he was filled with exponential godly power. Carlton then began to expand in all directions as his muscular black body packed on more and more size. BIGGER!!! FUCK YEA FUCKING BIGGER AND MORE GODLY!!!! YESSSSS!!!!! I AM THE FUCKING BIGGEST THING IN EXISTENCE!!! AND IT’S ONLY FUCKING GETTING STARTED!!!” Carlton’s thundered in his omnipresent voice as he got so massive and powerful that his black god piss slit was infinitely bigger then the observable universe, and then he exponentially grew bigger in constant spurts with each spurt infinitely growing him bigger and more powerful then the last.

Man you are a tease. This whole chapter was a set up. Im interest to see how the dr thinks his book will help his patient with how he feels.

A big thank you to @Trekka for training with me and helping me to work on getting better form. I appreciate your kindness and patience. You also provide a lot of motivation, because you’re huge already and only getting bigger. Thanks again! — EverHopeful

I'm one of those people who's torn between the journey of a man becoming a god and just having the god fill the room. Absolutely awesome!

Interesting take on this. I love where it's going. It has a flair of Elongro. The big guys just don't really see the world as the little ones do. It's all benevolent, but there's more of an order to it. A hierarchy was established. I bet the political structure has changed quite a bit over the time that Mr. Branson was in seclusion. More musclegods in office reinforcing the new normal leaving room for the little ones but knowing full well the future belongs to them. After all, the only ones in the future that remain small will be the ones who took V early. Future generations will all be V size. Mr Branson junior signed his own prison sentence by taking V too early. Unless they find a way to make those that took it too early to recover. But I doubt that will happen because it wouldn't be needed once the non V generation dies out. Mr Branson junior is doomed. If his father ends up benevolent... maybe junior will find some solace. It kinda makes me wonder if Branson senior is being more overprotective than harmful... I think senior IS actively searching for his son if not already knows where he is and knowing that his son was in a secluded place made him comfortable for the time being. Dr. Breneth may actually use his contacts to see if there may be a search going on. Maybe just maybe, senior may know that junior took V early and may be planning recovery for him especially if he loves him that much and is willing to go to such lengths to find him.

This is such a great story. I love Dr. Breneth's attitude and how he seemingly fights the urge to be completely dominating while still be just dominating enough to let the little people know their place. It also seems that perhaps Mr. Branson's father isn't as cruel as he envisions him to be. Perhaps Junior has just been unable to cope with his father's growth. If he would accept that fact perhaps their relationship could be much more mutually enjoyable.

"Oooh, my lover, I cannot wait to take off this blindfold. Even now I am imagining you strapping me into an electrical chair, attaching my nipples, cock and balls to the power of your land, yes, even now I am getting hard, yes, my lover, I will wait until this blindfold comes off and then...then I shall take you to heaven" As Porthos practically panted every step that he took, Henry and Roger looked at each other and nodded solemnly. As Henry reached for the blindfold that was covering Porthos's eyes, he said "Porthos, when I remove this blindfold, you are given carte blanche to make any declaration you wish based on what you see, do you understand?" "I understand mon amis" came the moaned reply and with that the blindfold was removed and as Porthos's vision cleared his moans of desire stopped suddenly and were replaced by a mighty "NON!" as the vision in front of him cleared. "What...What...What happened?" he stammered "There was a fire" replied Henry as he stood next to the bewildered Titan, "started by accident I should stress, that burned for a good four or five hours!" "But...But...But...this is not possible!" added Porthos "It is my lover" sighed Roger, "the whole of the roof burned, the spire collapsed and at least one window was destroyed!" As Porthos slumped to his knees, he wailed "But, this was the first thing I saw when I came to Paris all those years ago, please, mon amis, tell me, this is a dream, oui?" "It's not a dream" replied Henry helping Porthos to his feet, "this really happened, but at the same time so is this" and with that he held the Titan's hand and led him towards the building where a group of firemen were clearing up after them. Nodding his head Henry said, in slightly broken French, that he was a visitor to Paris and having brought two friends with him wished to console them that the cathedral had been saved. The fireman nodded confirming the statement and pointed to a notice next to the front door. As Henry read it, his reading better than his talking, Porthos's glum expression started to change. "We have much to rebuild, We will rebuild Notre Dame Cathedral even more beautifully. We can do it, and once again, we will mobilize (to do so)" "AYE!" declared Porthos, puffing out his chest as far as it was possible to do so and as he did so he stood tall and saluted the building declaring "My lover, my friend, let us volunteer immediately. The strength of the Titan will help this building be restored!" The President of France (Emmanuel Macron) has issued a statement this evening stating that he wants to see Notre Dame completely restored to as it was when it was first constructed by 2024 and has solicited funding to do so. So far various companies in France have donated €800 million ($902 million, £692 million) of an estimated total cost of some €2.25 billion ($2.54 billion, £1.94 billion) and given my interest in French history I shall certainly be donating at least €50 ($57, £43) to the appeal)

more? more? more? MOAR!!!!!

Very slightly inspired by a recent news story...……………. For the second day in a row, the doctor noticed the white van parked across the street as he pulled out of his driveway, heading to his office. The cul-de-sac he lived on had only two houses, his, and his neighbors, who had left for Florida for the winter just last week. They had mentioned before they left that there might be a handyman around, fixing things at the house while they were gone. That must be his van, thought the doctor as he drove by it. That evening, as he arrived home, he saw a ladder leaning up against the neighbors’ house, and the handyman was just climbing down off of it. It was dusk, so it was a little hard to see, but the doctor could tell that the handyman was a big guy. And as he stepped off the ladder, he triggered a security light that was on the house, and the doc got a better look at the size of him. “Whoa,” said the doctor out loud, inside his car. The handyman was not young, but he was thick with muscle. He had on a black sleeveless Under Armour shirt that showed off the size of his big delts and beefy arms. As he turned to pull the ladder off the side of the house, the doctor could see the guy’s back muscles bulging around thru his tight shirt, and thru his sweatpants, he could see that he had the glutes of a prized champion bull. The doctor had slowed his car to a crawl to see as much as he could. Even as a kid, he had lusted for muscle, and now, at 35, that lust was stronger than ever. As he watched the beefy handyman lift the extension ladder like it weighed as much as a pillow, the front tire of his car scraped up against the curb. He stopped the car, but the noise of the scraping made the big handyman look over. As he carried the ladder toward his van with one arm, he waved at the doc’s car with his other. “Holy shit, the size of his arms,” thought the doctor to himself, as he waved back weakly and embarrassed, but highly titillated. He steered his car away from the curb and into his driveway. He pushed his garage door opener and then pulled into the garage. As the garage door shut, he stayed in his car, his head spinning, his thoughts racing. Good Lord, he thought, the guy’s arms have to be over 20 inches. And that ass! So thick and mounded, swelling the sweatpants into two perfect globes. God, I love muscleheads too much, he thought. And he was right, he did love muscle too much. At 5’10” tall and 200lbs, he kept in shape himself, but he was nowhere near the size of the beasts he admired. That’s why he belonged to several different hardcore gyms in town, so that he could go scope out all the musclebulls he could. He discovered early on that most of these alpha meatheads wouldn’t notice him or give him the time of day, until they found out he was a doctor. Then the whole dynamic changed. And the doc took advantage of that change. When the topic of PE drugs would come up, which it always would, he’d tell the biggest of the men at the gym to make an appointment with him. Pretty soon, a good sized group of powerlifting and bodybuilding cops, firemen, bouncers, construction workers, even lawyers, were coming to him for pharmaceutical grade gear. As the list grew, he started ordering supplies from eastern Europe, so he wouldn’t get in trouble when the state came in to go thru his records. He found that the stuff from Europe was vastly more effective than what he got from the states. His office began to get overrun with big musclemen looking to grow, so he opened a second office downtown just for them. Lately, though, he was getting a little nervous about how many guys were showing up. He started asking his ‘patients’ to stop sharing where they were getting their gear, and had his musclebound male nurse tell anyone who called that they weren’t taking anyone new for now. Unfortunately, some guys don’t like taking ‘no’ for an answer, and one night, right after the doctor got home, someone knocked on his front door. When he opened the door, there stood a guy from his gym. The doc knew from other people that this guy was an ex-con with a temper. His neck tattoo also added to the sense of menace coming off him. He muscled his way into the foyer, and told the doctor that he knew what he was up to, and that he wanted free gear and a lot of it, or he’d report the doc to the cops. The doc backed up in the foyer as he began to panic a little. This guy was wearing a tight tank top, and was bigger than doc remembered, probably around 220lbs of muscle that was tight and wiry. Doc was good at guessing ages, and figured the guy for about 30. And he looked fast. There was really nowhere for the doc to go to get away from him. Despite that, the doc looked behind the guy, thinking about trying to get around him and out the door. The big con just snorted a laugh and said “Try it”. But when the doc looked out, he saw the handyman walking up onto the porch. “You got a problem here, doc?” asked the handyman. He looked almost twice the size of the ex-con, who turned back, startled, and his whole body language changed as he soaked in the mass of the powerhouse standing before him. The handyman put his beefy hand on the guy’s shoulder and squeezed hard. The doc saw the skin on the ex-con’s delt turn white as the meaty fingers crushed the blood out of his shoulder. The guy’s legs buckled from the pain, and he sank to his knees. “Grab his wallet, Doc,” said the handyman, holding the guy down with ease even as he twisted and pulled trying to shake loose. The doctor grabbed the wallet out of the guy’s back pocket. “Now read his address to me,” said the powerhouse. The doc read him the address, and the handyman squeezed down harder with his thick fingers. Doc could almost hear the muscle fibers of the guy’s deltoid smushing to pulp. He was going to have purple deep tissue bruising for a month. The ex-con’s face blanched white from the pain. The big man leaned into his face and shook him as he said, “Listen to me, boy. You go on home now, and you leave the good doc alone, or I will hunt you down like the scumbag you are, and you will wish you were still in lockup. I’ll gouge your eyes out with my bare hands.” Then he released his grip. The guy gasped from the release of the pain, and almost crumpled to the floor, but caught himself and pushed himself to his feet. He slid along the wall, past the big man in front of him, and scurried out to his pickup. As they watched him peel out of the cul-de-sac, the doctor said thanked the hugely muscled handyman. The big man wiped his hand on his skin-tight black sleeveless UA shirt, as if to rub the grime of the ex-con onto his ridged roidgut. Even this casual motion made the heavily yoked up arm ripple and bulge. “You like what you see, Doc?” That wasn’t hard to figure out, since the doctor was swelling up inside his pants. “How’d you know I was a doctor?” The big man laughed. “I see things, Doc. Like your license plate that has MD on it.” He laughed again. “Plus, I’ve been to that gym of yours lately. I’d seen that guy there, and heard things. You were bound to run into trouble sooner or later.” He stepped in closer to the doc. “You wanna feel my muscle?” Then he flexed his left arm. “Holy shit,” whispered the doc. “How big is that?” “23.5, and growing. Go ahead and touch it, I know you want to.” The doc reached out and put his hand on the big peak. Then ran his hand up to the soccer ball sized deltoid. Then around into the deep armpit that was damp with hot sweat. The handyman lowered his arm and trapped the doc’s hand in his musclepit. “You’ve got the densest muscularity I’ve ever felt,” said Doc. “That’s from 40 years of heavy juicing, Doc.” This took the doctor by surprise because he thought the handyman looked to be about 40 years old. “ So, how old are you?” “I turn 57 next week.” “My god, that’s unbelievable. So you’ve been using since you were 17? “More like 15. Does it show?” Doc’s hand was still trapped in the big man’s pit. He was fully aroused now, and could see the handyman swelling up in his sweats too. “How much do you weigh?” Doc whispered into the big man’s ear. “340. You want me to fuck you with it?” he asked, as he pinned Doc to the wall. “God,” groaned Doc. “I tend to get a little wild once I get going, and I don’t want to bust up any of your nice furniture, Doc. Let’s go out to my van. It’s got reinforced shocks and a mattress in the back.” He curled the doc up the wall until his feet weren’t touching the floor. Then he tossed him over his left shoulder and fireman carried him out toward the van. As Doc bounced up and down on the broad shoulder, he had a great view of the big man’s glutes, and noticed that his sweatpants were pulled up over his huge calves. Doc had never seen calves so overdeveloped and veiny. He could spend a week just worshipping the massive gastrocnemius muscle on this monstrous man. When they got to the van, the handyman opened up the back and tossed Doc roughly onto the mattress inside. Then the big man peeled the skin-tight UA shirt off and tossed it inside too. As he climbed inside, the van creaked and moaned from his weight. Doc couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d seen pictures and videos of men this developed, like Big Ramy and Hadi Choopan, and just the visuals of them drove him wild. But in person…oh my god. And the smell inside the van. So thick with the man’s musk. As Doc looked around, he realized that the guy must be living in here. He was overwhelmed with lust, but also a little frightened. “Fuck me,” he said, not so much as a request, but as a statement of wondering what he’d gotten himself into. “Oh yeh, babe,” growled the big man, “I’m gonna fuck you alright. Fuck you till the sun comes up, you sweet piece of candy.” “Hey,” said Doc, as the huge handyman swelled up onto him like an incoming storm cloud. “What’s your name?” The big man pulled back a bit. “What’s it matter?” he said darkly, staring down at the doc as he began to pin him to the mattress with those powerful hands. “I just wanna see if you can make me scream it out as you fuck me,” said Doc, thinking quickly, and hoping he hadn’t hit a raw nerve. “Oh, you’ll be screaming it out alright. At least 4 or 5 times. You’ll be hoarse from screaming it out. Name’s Ruben.” “God, you’re so fucking big,” said Doc, as the massive muscle loomed over top of him. “Just wait, Doc.” “How big you wanna get?” “I’m gonna be the first 60 year old weighing a shredded 450.” Then Ruben started tearing Doc’s clothes off of him. From outside, anyone watching would have seen the van start to bounce and tip from side to side. They’d hear the muffled sounds of grunts and groans and an occasional thud as limbs hit the sides of the van, denting it outward. The windows quickly steamed over from the inside. As the night wore on, the thumpings got louder and harder, to the point that the van tires began to inch forward, leaving skid marks on the road. As the sun came up, the back doors of the van opened. Doc stumbled out as he pulled on his tattered clothes. He looked back inside as he closed the doors. Ruben was in a deep slumber, snoring like a hibernating bear. Doc limped toward his house. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck, and he sort of had been. His arms were bruised up and down. His wrists hand burn marks from where Ruben had tied his belt around them, then hung him from a bar at the top of the van. He didn’t think his ass would ever be the same. Whoever thought that steroids made a man’s dick shrink had never met Ruben Ruben took him six times overall, but also let him pec-fuck his 74” chest. Doc shuddered with pleasure at the thought of it, the biggest set of pec mounds he’d ever slid his dick into. As he climbed up the stairs to his porch, he had to use the railings. He was pretty sure he had a couple of broken ribs. He had to shower and get ready for work. It was going to be a long day. But as much pain as he was in, he knew all he was going to want to do was get back home so he could get back in the van and let Ruben demolish him all over again. He limped up to his bathroom and took his tattered clothes off. He saw in the mirror how bruised up he was. “Jesus,” he said, as he touched his ribs and winced. Then he saw the hickey on his neck. He remembered Ruben giving it to him, as he pinned him to the wall of the van. Doc almost came as the huge handyman sucked on him like a musclebound vampire. He almost came again as Ruben had him suck on his 24 inch neck. His skin was leathery and tasted salty as caviar. He started getting hard as he touched the big hickey and remembered the taste. Now, he was going to have to pull out an old turtleneck to wear to the office. He took the hottest shower he could stand, which helped him feel less battered up. Still, as he limped his was into work, his big Filipino male nurse said, “Damn, Doc, what happened to you?” “I had a rough night.” “It looks it. How’s the other guy look?” “Not so bad, actually.” They both laughed and got to work, but it made Doc think about the superheavyweight beast sleeping in his van, and it made his loins throb. He made it thru the day somehow, although he did leave a little early. His juiced up patients were less enticing to him than usual, as all his thoughts were back at his cul-de-sac. When he pulled up to his house, Ruben was in the neighbors’ yard, doing landscaping. He had pulled up a couple big trees and was tossing them to the curb. The trunks of the trees looked liked they’d been snapped rather than sawed. Ruben’s thick mounds of back muscles rolled as he tossed them. He was shirtless and caked in dirt and pine needles. He waved when he saw Doc, who put down his window. “Man, you’re a mess. You want to shower off?” Ruben sauntered over to the car, put his hands at the top of the open window, then pushed the car up onto two wheels. “Whoa,” said Doc, as he slid in his seat. Ruben looked in at him with a grin. He smelled of outdoors and freshly cut wood. Sweat ran down his chest, making little muddy rivers on his big heaving pecs. “Yeh, I could use a hosedown,” he said, as he lowered the car back to the road. His size and strength were making Doc throb all over. He pulled into his drive, and the two of them went into the house. Doc led the big man up to his master bedroom. “Nice place you got here, Doc,” said Ruben as he stripped out of his sweats. His big dick flopped out, then his big balls. Nothing on him had shrunk up from decades of roid use. In fact, he had the biggest set of balls the doc had ever seen, and his sac hung halfway to his knees. Ruben smirked as he noticed the doc checking out the goods. “And they just keep getting bigger. Every year, Doc.” Doc swallowed hard at the thought, then led Ruben into the bathroom. It had a big open shower that could fit six. Ruben made it look small. His big shoulders almost touched opposite walls. Doc turned on the water. When the water got hot, he lifted the hand wand and hosed down the big man’s traps and back. Ruben spread his lats out as the muddy water ran down them, and they jutted out like hams on each side. Doc could barely speak as he watched them swell outward, but he managed to ask, “Are you living in your van, Ruben?” He’d been wondering about it all day. “Yeah.” “Do you need some money to get your own place?” Doc asked as he hosed off the back of Ruben’s huge thighs. “Hell no, Doc. I like it. Gives me freedom to come and go. Besides, I’m flush with dough right now. Your neighbor paid me 10,000 dollars to watch me fuck his wife.” “He did?” Doc moved around in front of the big handyman, and pictured his big club inside his neighbor’s wife. Ruben chuckled. “Yep. Did her three times the first night. Then a couple times after that, before they left for Florida. She was having trouble walking, but I don’t think she’ll ever forget it.” “No, I doubt she will.” He looked the big man over as water ran down his enormous chest. “Man, where did you come from?” asked the Doc. The look on Ruben’s face darkened. He grabbed Doc around the throat with one big hand and shoved him against the wall hard, causing Doc to drop the wand. “You writing a book?” Ruben snarled. He squeezed Doc’s neck harder, making him choke. “I don’t like getting grilled, little man.” Doc didn’t think he’d been grilling and he was starting to panic a little. What had he gotten himself into? He was trying to pull back on Ruben’s wrist with his two hands, but there was no budging that grip. But just as fast as it had started, he saw Ruben’s face relax. He loosened his grip and leaned in and whispered, “Let me kiss it and make it better, baby doc.” He put his lips on Doc’s neck and started sucking on it. Doc’s eyes almost crossed from the pleasure of it. “Gonna give you a hickey necklace, hide the bruising.” Ruben took his big hand off Doc’s neck and sucked his way around, sucking hard yet tender. Ruben reach the other side of Doc’s neck, stopped sucking on it, and stepped back,. “Sorry about that, babe. My temper gets the best of me sometimes. Why don’t ya suck me off, calm me down.” Ruben forced Doc to his knees. Doc didn’t know rather to break free and make a run for it, or do as he was told. He wanted to do both. He was pretty sure his larynx had been damaged. He would be hoarse for a month. Despite his concern about his own safety, he grabbed a bottle of body oil and lubed the big man’s monster cock with it. The water wand was still spraying hot water all around the shower, steaming it up. Doc popped Ruben’s big mushroom cap into his mouth. The big man let out a deep groan, and shoved himself in. Doc wondered if some nerves in his neck had been damaged, because the big club slammed down his throat without him gagging once. “Oh, you way better than your neighbor lady, Doc,” grunted Ruben as he face-fucked him, grabbing his ears and working him up and down his oiled up shaft. Doc could feel the big man’s quad veins under his hands as he braced himself. He felt the heat of pre-cum start to ooze down his throat, and soon after, Ruben’s ejaculate exploding in ropes. Doc knew the average volume was around 5cc’s. Ruben’s just kept going up and up. Over 100. Maybe 200, thought the doc, as he swallowed and swallowed. He felt like he was milking a soft serve ice cream nozzle, only the custard was hot and thick. When he finished, Ruben pulled himself out of Doc’s mouth. Doc reached to turn off the water, but Ruben stopped him. “I’m not done yet,” he said. He picked up the bottle of body oil and pored it on his hand. He flipped Doc around, face first into the tiles. Then he shoved two big fingers into Doc’s ass. “Got to loosen you up, wouldn’t wanna hurt ya.” He rolled his fingers around and around inside him. Doc’s whole body twitched from the feel. The big man popped his fingers out and lubed his still-hard dick with the rest of the body oil. Doc heard the bottle slide across the shower floor. Ruben jammed himself inside Doc and began to rut. When he was fully inside, he lifted Doc up and began to air fuck him like a blowup doll. Doc arched himself as much as he could, pain and pleasure searing thru his body as he felt Ruben’s insane power and size in him, heating him up from inside. “Oh yeh, you way better than your neighbor, sugar,” said Ruben. Then he wrapped one big arm around Doc’s neck, still holding him in the air. Doc could feel his thick biceps peak pressing into his bruised Adam’s apple. “You like my sleeper hold, Doc?” Ruben tightened his hold and Doc started choking for breath. “Gonna put you out as I cum inside you, babe.” He rammed Doc harder and harder, yanking him back and forth in his choke hold. Doc couldn’t breath, and could feel himself losing consciousness. He felt ecstasy and agony at the same time. Was this going to be how it ended for him? He hated it and loved it. He wanted it to stop, but he wanted it to keep going. The supreme power of the brute behind him, using him, owning him like no one ever had. What a way to go, he thought, as he spiraled into darkness.

Chapter 17 By the time I got back to the locker room, Luke and Dave were gone. Instead, I found my shoes on a bench next to a neatly folded stack of clothes. On top of the clothes were the keys for the athletic center, my room key, and my cell phone. My phone screen was glowing: I’d missed texts. They were all from Luke. He explained that he was spending the night at Dave’s so I could get a good night’s sleep. Also, Dave wanted to be genuinely surprised when he saw me in class tomorrow. The clothes on the bench were of a bigger size and would fit me. He ended by reminding me to lock the front door behind me. Luke’s spelling was atrocious. I went over to the mirrors in the locker room and stood in awe. The first thing I saw was my face. It looked fuller and thicker. My cheekbones stuck out like harsh cliffs; my jaw and chin looked more intense and powerful, leading down to a thick neck and thicker traps. Even my eyebrow ridge looked more muscular, somehow. It was still unmistakably my face, but my face from my wettest dreams. I looked down to the rest of my form. I was getting beastly. With all my new bulk, my waist demanded my attention. It looked somehow both petite and mighty. My abs were deep grooves in my torso, and I was pleased to discover that now I had my own Adonis belt. My shoulders were so wide that I couldn’t keep them both in the mirror at the same time. My arms had gotten so huge that they looked flexed, each with a thick vein running its length, even when perfectly relaxed. But, then again, they couldn’t stay perfectly relaxed because my back, a part of my body I seldom thought about, had gotten so wide that I could see it from the front. My muscles were a paradox. My legs were a surprise. Still tired from their day of exercise, the growth had hit them extra hard. My calves stood out like angry outcrops, shaped like upside-down hearts. My thighs would never be separate again. They pressed slightly into each other, shoving my cock forward. And, oh, what a cock. I was never much of a grower, so even before my cock started to grow, I was used to being larger-than-average even soft. Now that I proudly sported a 12-inch erection, it was longer and thicker soft than I used to be hard. And my balls had seemingly doubled in size from a month ago. I could barely hold both in one hand at the same time. They were like plums. I had to get dressed or I’d never leave this mirror. The shorts looked a size or two too big for me. That is, until I tried to put them on. They clung to my thighs so tightly that I had to shimmy each leg up individually. My ass at its new volume was also a challenge. I needed to guide each cheek in, one at a time. My ass was too big to just pull up my pants. From now on, every time I put on underwear or pants or anything that had to be pulled up, I’d have to stop at my ass and coax each cheek in before continuing. The same was true of my balls. I had to put each of my nuts into the short one at a time. Each one took both hands: one to hold open the shorts, one to maneuver the ball into the fabric. Before I had my shaft into my shorts, my shorts were already overfull. My ass stuck out behind me, my balls in front. I did my best to cram my cock in there too, but it ended up sticking to the side, hugging my hip, obvious through the fabric. The waist of the shorts proved to be a challenge too. It was too big. I’d barely gotten my legs, ass, and cock in, but my waist wasn’t thick enough to support the elastic, so it sagged in the front, my cock threatening to spill back out. I then realized I would have to hold my phone and keys because my shorts were too tight. There was no room in the pockets. The shirt, a normal t-shirt thankfully, also stymied me. I was used to putting both arms in through the arm holes and then pulling down, a procedure that took five seconds. I was now too big to dress quickly. I had to put one arm in first, making sure the sleeve hooked on my shoulder or it would slide right back off. Then, I put my head through the head hole, the fabric bunching around my neck. Then, I had to wrangle my other arm up and through the fabric and out the arm hole. Only then could I inch the shirt over my pecs, one side then the other, a little at a time, back and forth like a broken Venetian blind. After all of that, I had to rearrange the sleeves to make sure they were facing the right direction so I didn’t cut off circulation. It took me forever to get dressed. When I went to put my shoes on, I couldn’t. My feet had gotten too muscular for my shoes. My feet were too buff for my own shoes. I abandoned them to the locker room. Some lesser-footed man would benefit from my largesse. I was walking home barefoot. I got to the front door as it started to rain. What force in the universe wanted me to be wet today? I’d taken multiple showers, sweated through three shirts, and soaked in a hot tub. It seemed almost comic it was going to rain on the way home. I locked the athletic center door behind me and tugged on the handle to make sure it was secure. When I turned around, I almost crashed into James. He was standing there wearing his messenger bag and holding an umbrella. “James. What brings you here?” He held up my wallet. “You left this at the cafeteria.” He flipped it open to my driver’s license and examined my picture. “At least, I think it’s you. The you in this photo doesn’t look like the you who’s you. The you who’s you looks like you’re two of the you in this photo.” “Thanks, James,” I said, taking my wallet. James opened the flap of his bag. “You can put your stuff in here,” he offered. I loved the way the strap got caught between his pecs, clearly separating them into distinct mounds. At this proximity, I could tell he was still bigger than me, which was oddly comforting. But he wasn’t bigger by much anymore. “Thanks again,” I said, depositing my belongings. I noticed that his shoes were in his bag. I looked down at his bare feet and asked, “Since you’re not wearing your shoes, can I?” “Why would you want to wear shoes when we can walk home barefoot through the grass?” “Why indeed?” I asked. He offered me room under his umbrella, and we began to walk back to the dorm. We walked slowly, deliberately. We were quite a sight: two large men trying to fit under the same umbrella. We ended up practically on top of each other as we made our way across campus. Despite our hindered pace, we took every opportunity to walk through puddles and kick small bushes. When we got back to the dorm, I stood under the overhang as James closed and shook his umbrella out. When he was satisfied, he turned around and asked, “Is it my turn?” “Pardon?” “Is it my turn?” “Turn for what?” “Well, Luke and Dave have been talking for days about their plans for tonight. And you’ve been dating about 15 guys this month. And I’m just wondering if it’s my turn.” I stood silently. “I’ve wanted to ask you out since freshman year. But I was so afraid of ruining our friendship that I never acted on it. Never. And I’ve really wanted to. And now you’ve just slept with your closest friend, and it doesn’t look like it ruined that friendship. And you’re getting hotter and sexier. And bigger. And if I don’t speak soon, I’ll never have my chance. And…” I interrupted James by kissing him fully and deeply, practically cutting off his air. James took a step back, surprised. “You mean?” “Yes.” “I want to be clear. I don’t want to be just one of the many. I want just you, and just me.” “That sounds fine by me.” “Okay, then.” He said, nodding and taking out his ID card. “Do you want to come up to my room?” The question excited James so much he missed the card swiper. “Yes.” He paused. “But no.” He paused again. “But yes.” Another pause. “But no. But yes.” “I get it,” I said. “It’s too soon.” “You have to tell the other guys that it’s just you and just me.” I nodded. “And before we…” he couldn’t finish the sentence. “Go to my room,” I suggested. “Yes! Before we go to your room, you should know that I’ve never been in anyone’s room before.” Quickly he added, “Or had anyone in my room.” “Never?” “Never,” he confirmed. “Okay,” I said. “We’ll take it slow.” James swiped the card, and we walked the rest of the way to my room silently. When we got to the door, he bid me goodnight with a kiss on the cheek.

Absolutely brilliant descriptions and a godly doctor. I'm glad the younger therapist got taken down a few pegs. The now musclegod therapist definitely has a soft spot for Branson Jr. I can't wait to read more!

Well paced and with enough background to make whatever happens in the future quite believable. I am loving the Serve and Protect title and hope to see John save Gabriel again as Gabriel has done for him. This story is ripe for awesomeness and I can't wait to be a part of the ride.

I'm frankly astounded at the detail in the medical parlance here. It isn't easy to pull off without becoming heavy and too detailed. You do it well here. There is detail here in your descriptions that bring us into the mindset of Declann. The scenes before he leaves work, looking into the gym and feeling that he is overmatched to enter (to be a beginner - we've all been there at one point or another), the massive powerful men of the extraction unit moving past with the inner dialog in his mind exposing some deep insecurities, and that impulse to do Good, with a capital G. Then there is the doc. There is a lot to him, many secrets I would say. And I hope we learn much more about him. You've set up the mystery well and accelerated the pace of the plot at the end which contrasted nicely with the more deliberate character development at the beginning. For not having written in 4 years, I would never have known that. You hide your dusty writing chops very well. And we should thank Dredlifter for the idea suggestions too. Good writing is so often a product of at least minor collaborations, yes? Please, proceed with the next bit when you are able.