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Close Encounters with Joshua Banks - Chapter I He was my neighbor, had been since I was a little boy and his family moved to our city but we have never really been friends because we were pretty much opposites. I was your typical video game addicted, friendless nerd, while he was the jock superstar of our high school. The fact that we were never really friends quickly changed during our last summer break before we went off to college. Both our parents were gone, we were home alone and thanks to some miracle, we became very acquainted with each other. It was a fateful summer afternoon when I decided to leave my natural habitat, my basement, and go to the balcony. I didn't leave because I wanted to get some fresh air or maybe a tan in the beautiful sun, but because I wanted to marvel at the beautiful view. And, wow what I view I had from the balcony. I could stare straight into Joshua's garden and watch him in all his 200 pound glory as he sat on a lounge chair, eyes closed and enjoying the warm sun. His muscles heaved, massive balloon like pecs moving up and down with every breath, veins snaking all the way from his massive neck over his huge guns to his thick forearms and tree trunk legs which could barely be contained by shorts that were about two sizes too small. I sat there for what must have been an hour, just staring at him, admiring every single part of his glorious body. But then after some time I could not take it anymore, my dick was begging to be released and so I did. I took it out and began jerking off, keeping my eyes on Joshua the whole time. Suddenly his eyes flashed open and looked directly at me. I was startled, frozen, unsure of what to do. My heart stopped for a second, fearing what would happen next but then flashed a killer smile and ran his hand through his brown hair, flexing his massive bicep. That was more than I could take and I blew my load right then and there. Ashamed and confused, I ran back inside, into the shower and just sat there, trying to figure out whether I had just imagined that smile and he was actually plotting a way to kill me or not. The thought of his massive biceps bulging out as he choked the life out of me actually aroused me again which triggered me to start another jerk off session. After showering I decided to go to the living room and watch some Netflix in order to get rid of all thoughts related to Joshua. That became nearly impossible when I heard a knock at the door. I took a deep breath, braced myself and opened the door. Joshua stood there, now with a shirt that did little to hide his hulking physique, but to my surprise he wasn't here to kill me. Instead he had a friendly smile on his face. "Hey, sorry to impose but I just lost my measuring tape so could I maybe borrow yours," he asked, acting as if he hadn't seen my jerking off to him earlier. "I-I-erm-sure," I stuttered back. "J-just wait a second." I rushed into the kitchen and fetched it for him. "Here you are," I said, trying to force a smile. He grabbed it and gave me a very strong handshake with his massive hand as a thank you. He turned around to leave and I was about to close the door, before he turned back around. "Actually, could I ask you for one more favor?" he began. "I need the tape to measure my biceps but it's a kind of hard to do that on your own. If it's not too much trouble, I'd really appreciate it if you came over and helped me measure them." I don't think that I have ever agreed to anything as fast in my life as to that. We walked over to his house, where he led me the home gym in his basement. My hands were visibly shaking, as he flexed his right arm. It just looked so marvelous as it squeezed against the fabric of his shirt. Then I put the measuring tape around it and God did his arm feel god. I only got to touch it with a few fingers for a few fleeting second but it felt so warm and hard. 17 inches was the number on the tape. "New record for this bad boy.," he smiled. "But we're gonna have to top that today. You mind waiting as I pump up these guns? It's not gonna take long. I just need you to measure one of them afterwards." That was a lie. It took long, he worked out his arms for an hour, but I was more than happy to wait and watch him. I felt like I was in heaven, watching him move weights up and down, pumping his biceps to new heights. My favorite part of his workout was when he did bicep curls. It was such a beautiful exercise to watch because you could his biceps or his thick looked as if they were about to rip out of their beat red skin. Luckily they didn't rip out of the skin but out of Joshua's tight shirt. The shirt had fought long and well but it proved no match for Joshua's arms, as it slowly ripped at the seams with each curl. After the hottest hour of my life (up until that point), Joshua asked me to lay on his back as he did push ups. "I always do a hundred or so push ups after each workout but they've become too easy so I need some extra weight." By then, my boner was unbearably hard but I didn't care and I doubt he did either. He took off his shirt and dropped to the ground, in perfect push up position. I slowly got his wide and shredded back, my boner pressing onto his hard, round ass and awkwardly holding onto him by his shoulders, because I was too shy to touch his arms. "What are you doing? You know you can hold onto my arms, right?" he said, seemingly reading my mind. So I did as I was told and if I hadn't reached heaven yet, I had now. It is a miracle that I didn't blow my third load of the day right then and there. In the entire 18 years of my existence, I had never felt anything so arousing. His biceps were like warm granite, pulsing with power and flexing and unflexing with every push up. I burrowed my fingers into his arms as they were unflexed, but they immediately pushed my fingers away once he went down and no matter what I did, once they were flexed, they were impenetrable. Finally after going up and down 200 hundred times at an unbelievable speed, I was instructed to get off him back and pull out the measuring tape. He gritted his teeth, growled and flexed his arm, somehow pumping up his already pumped to the max bicep even more, as I put the tape around his arm. I am not the most knowledgeable person when it comes to bodybuilding but I am pretty sure a two inch pump isn't normal, yet that is exactly what the tape showed. A staggering 19 inches. As I read him the number, Joshua raised his arms into a breathtaking double-bicep pose and roared: "I'M A BEAST." That was just the first of my many encounters with Joshua...

Chapter 60 I thought I had been talking to myself, but I looked up to find two stagehands. They blatantly looked down at my cock, aghast and surprised at my nakedness and enormity. The stare had been going on for five full seconds, past the point of politeness. I waved at them sweetly and said, “There wouldn’t be a robe I could borrow to get back to my dressing room, would there?” The simplicity and honesty of the question brought them back to reality, and they exchanged looks with each other, unsure of what to do. They could barely hear each other’s suggestions because the audience was still applauding. I just wanted to get back to my dressing room. The stagehands provided no help until the stage manager, an aspiring bodybuilder in a form-fitting uniform with a headset, came forward with his clipboard. He held it in front of my genitalia, but even an entire clipboard wasn’t quite enough to cover the tip of my cock, which dangled below it. The audience was still applauding. Over the speaker, a voice called me back onstage for an encore. I hadn’t prepared for this. No one had prepared me for this. The stage manager was talking furiously in his headset at a volume just quiet enough that I couldn’t hear him. He looked desperate, and it seemed like the voice on the other side was continuously interrupting him. Suddenly, the stage manager shouted, “Because we’re not licensed for nudity!” But that didn’t end his argument with the person on the other end of the headset. The audience was still applauding, getting even louder, trying to lure me back onstage. This wasn’t going to end until I went back out one way or another. I picked up my poser to survey the damage. As it turned out, only one leg had snapped: the pouch—the most important part—was still intact. I put myself back into the pouch and held the frayed fabric together. “Got a pin or some masking tape?” I asked all three of them. One of the stagehands came running forward with a small handful of safety pins. When I tried to pin the poser back together, the meaty flesh of my thigh kept getting in the way, forcing the fabric back apart. I stabbed myself twice, so the stagehand stepped in to hold the fabric while I tried to pin it. Between his bulk and mine, I couldn’t reach the damn poser anymore, so the stagehand who’d brought the pins came back over to put the pin in. One pin proved insufficient—that thing was going to pop off any moment, so the stagehand added another, and another. It took all three of us and seven safety pins, but I was now decent. Thankfully, under the bright stage lights, the silver of the safety pins and the metallic gold of the posers blended together. The audience was still applauding as I walked back out onstage. I waved to them, and the volume grew more thunderous. The room had actually gone up a few degrees in temperature from the fervor. I approached centerstage and was joined by a presenter holding two microphones. I could see the flotilla of television cameras moving closer to capture the interview. A colony of photographers surrounded them, flashing pictures by the score. The announcer handed me a mike and spoke into the other. The audience quieted. “I don’t think anyone in this room is going to forget that routine anytime soon.” And they were cheering again. “Thank you,” I responded as humbly as I could, trying to get the audience calm again. The photo flashes were constant and erratic, so I focused on the TV cameras. I looked directly into each camera as I spoke, moving gracefully from one to the next. As I spoke, the audience calmed down, and all attention turned to me. It only seemed appropriate to start thanking people, so I thanked Charles and recommended him as a trainer to any serious lifter in the area. I thanked Luke for getting me into weightlifting in the first place. I thanked Dave for being my friend and my manager. I stopped before thanking James. I didn’t know if that would embarrass him too much. To explain the abrupt stop, I looked into the final camera and added, “And my parents for supporting my various pursuits.” “You are a relative unknown to the bodybuilding circuit, so tell us a little about yourself.” I was never a fan of extemporaneous speaking, but I mentioned my school, my major, my course load, my recent performing endeavors, and the soccer team. I clarified, “But the soccer team is a technicality, really.” The announcer stood dumbfounded at my eloquence. The photographers never stopped taking pictures the entire time I spoke. “All I can say is wow. Is there some special lady at home who gets this all to herself, or are you on the market?” the announcer asked. His tone of voice indicated he thought it was an innocent, safe either/or. I had to correct him of that notion. “Neither. My boyfriend is in the audience.” I was nearly blinded as the flashes intensified. I didn’t expect an out gay bodybuilder to be a story, but apparently, to these people, it was. In what was left of my peripheral vision, I could see a spotlight begin to swivel to find James. I looked up at the light technician and pointed, “And if you shine a spotlight on him, he will never forgive me.” The light technician stopped swiveling. “Is your boyfriend a big fella too?” “Yes, he is, and do let’s talk about something else. He doesn’t like being the center of attention.” There was a firmness in my voice that the announcer respected. “Alright, then,” the announcer had a devilish look in his eye. “What took you so long to get back onstage for your encore interview?” “The answer is indelicate.” “Nonsense.” I could immediately tell he didn’t know what the word “indelicate” meant, in part because he kept prying. “What caused the delay?” “You don’t shy away from the tough questions, do you?” I steeled myself and looked the announcer dead in the eyes. I was about to admit this in front of a crowd of strangers, my parents, and television cameras. “My poser was too small for me, and I burst out of it backstage. It took some lateral thinking, two of your stage crew, and a handful of safety pins to get me back into it,” I turned my leg to the side and showed off the safety pins. I held the pose, knowing every photographer and camera operator was going to want a good, close look at it. “So, no more dancing today?” “Not unless you want to turn this into an entirely different show,” I said. The audience laughed. One of the cameramen even laughed. The joke wasn’t even funny. “However, I don’t want to give you nothing, so…” I handed my mike to the announcer, turned my body toward the cameras, and did a double bicep pose. A constellation of photo flashes. The announcer stepped closer to my bicep, and as he passed it, I saw that my bicep was as big as his head. My arms were the size of a grown man’s head. “This is inhuman,” the announcer said, squeezing the muscle. A supernova of flashes. All the attention was getting to my head. Well, my cockhead. If I didn’t end this soon, I was going to burst out of my poser again. So, I relaxed the pose, pointed a microphone at my face, and said, “Thank you, you’ve been a terrific audience. If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to change into something not held together by hope. Good afternoon.” Even though I could hear the announcer, the photographers, and the cameraman all shouting questions at me, I strode offstage and back to my dressing room.

Chapter 59 I slowly made my way to the stage. My body was larger than I was used to it, and the hallways in the backstage area felt impossibly small. I was too wide to comfortably negotiate a hallway. To make matters worse, my poser was ready to burst. I had to walk with an even wider stance than I was used to because my thighs kept getting in the way of my balls, and my balls kept getting in the way of my thighs. The hallway felt too small with just my shoulders, but adding in everything else, I felt like a massive boulder in a small cave. I also felt heavy in a way I never had. The ten pounds of muscle was noticeable, but the weight tugging on my groin was significant and portentous. I had gotten so used to the weight of my cock and balls at their previous monstrous size, so I was surprised by just how damn heavy they felt. Adding two inches in length, the extra girth, and the mass of my enlarged balls… Quick mental math assured me that my entire package was half again as heavy as it had been. That explained it. Gravity was pulling down on that extra weight with a vengeance, my poser threatening to slip down even further. I was suddenly grateful that Charles had come up with three entirely different posing routines. My unquestioned lord and master had left it up to me which one I did today, so I was free to do the easy one and get off the stage as quickly as possible, especially with all this extra cock and ball-meat practically bursting from my poser. When I got backstage, I relaxed a little because there was more space to breathe and expand. While I waited in the wings, I went over the simple routine in my head. Nervous wasn’t the right word; I was anxious to have this whole thing behind me. I peeked through a slit in the curtain to take in the crowd. It was larger than I expected, but there were still some empty seats in the back. The space was so crowded, though, that I couldn’t find James, or my parents, or any familiar face. I was surprised to see so many TV cameras, and mildly relieved that they were all labeled with local TV stations. This was going to be on TV? Great. I had gotten caught up in my own thoughts that I only heard every third word they said over the microphone. Then, before I knew what was happening, someone was pushing me gently into a spotlight. I walked to centerstage and held a neutral pose for the audience to take me in. That alone caused an uproar. Just standing there, breathing, my immensity on full display, was enough for the audience to go mad. James would never forgive me if I just did the basic routine with the audience that raucous, so I decided to go for the intermediate routine. My music started, and I it the first pose: side chest. I flexed my pecs so fiercely that they nearly careened upwards into my chin. They ballooned so fully when I flexed that they pushed my arms further to the side—I almost lost the pose. The audience, somehow, got louder. “Fuck it,” I thought to myself and went into the third routine, the hard one that I’d never fully mastered. I went through the poses, one by one, dancing to transition from one to the next—dances I’d never have been caught dead doing at a party (pop and lock, the robot, every faux-breakdance move from the ‘80s), but the audience was eating it up. I had a little trouble keeping up with the rhythm, but just a little. It took just a skosh more effort to heft my new bulk, and I had underestimated just how big ten more pounds would make me. During my double bicep pose, I felt my biceps graze the side of my face, kissing my ears. They’d never done that before. My smile momentarily faded into a look of concern, but the audience either didn’t notice or didn’t care. That’s when it hit me: I could do anything on this stage, even fall flat on my face, and the audience would just cheer louder. Overconfident now, I leapt into the air with all my might, doing a half-twist to turn around, showing the audience my defined glutes and impossibly wide back. I was so glad that my back was to the audience when I landed because my entire package bounced and heaved, nearly taking the poser with it. I hit several poses in a row, all on the beat, feeling the music flow through me. I repeated my leap-twist to turn back to the audience again, giving them a face full of my overfull, jostling poser. When I flexed my quads, they fought for space with each other, and my cock and balls were forced so far forward I thought my poser would tear right off my body. The audience loved it all, growing steadily louder as I posed. I sucked in my waist and held a vacuum pose. The audience briefly fell silent when they saw just how little fat my body contained. But the silence was just as quickly broken by a tidal wave of cheers and applause. Dave was right. I am a show-off. The audience’s praise was addictive, and I wanted more. Waving my hands in an upward gesture, I goaded the audience to applaud harder, then went into my front lat spread, my lats reaching so far outward I could barely get my fists to my waist. The music was reaching a crescendo, so I did a few body rolls in time with the music. I even threw in a few unplanned disco points and arm rolls Vanessa had me learn “just for the fun of it.” The audience ate it up with a spoon. Just as they were about to foment into a lather, I pulled out my best pose: the most muscular. The room literally shook with their applause; even the stage rumbled underneath me. The song was dying down, which meant it was time for the coup de grace: the one-handed handspring. It was the one move that I’d never successfully accomplished even once, but I was feeling cocky. When I landed on my right hand, I held the handstand for a second—a move I had been able to do a few times—then completed the handspring. The audience didn’t know how to react. They’d never seen anyone my size with my definition, and they’d definitely never seen him move that way. In the end, all those weeks of rehearsal had boiled down to a two-minute routine. As the audience applauded, I bowed to accept the acclaim, and did another handspring (with both hands; I’m not crazy) back offstage into the wings. When I landed behind the curtain, my poser gave up the ghost and exploded. “Guess I overdid it,” I said.

Superman's Gift Tagline: A young man's life is forever changed when the Man of Steel gives him his powerful spandex underwear. Author note: this one is a quickie. I do not know the Superman lore very well, but I think it is a fun universe to explore, and I wanted to try something lighter after writing my really dark Superman story a few years ago. This is part 1 of a 2 part, I think. Let me know what you think I really appreciate the community's feedback. I packed my bags and got on the bus leaving Smallville forever. I was finally getting my first job as an assistant editor at the Daily Planet, having just graduated from junior college. Smallville was full of bullies and small-minded jerks, I was tired of them giving me crap for my small frame and I was tired of being the little guy who was always picked on. But now, I was heading to the big city to live a new life, one where I could start a new identity, get new friends and maybe, finally, find some respect. We were only about 50 minutes outside of the city, a good few hours until we got to Metropolis, when we heard a loud THUD on the side of the bus. "Woah!" we all shouted, as the bus tilted back and forth. "HAHA!" a menacing voice came from outside the bus as it literally pulled it to a screeching halt. The voice echoed around us as the entire bus was literally lifted and shook back and forth, rising 40, 50 almost 100 feet off the ground. "Oh Superman?!" the voice beckoned< "where are you?" I looked out the window to find a huge monstrosity of a being cackling with glee as he took sheer joy in torturing us. It was Doomsday! I had seen him only once before. The brute was massive. "Oh superman, where are you?" he said, shaking us, "I have a group of victims for you to rescue." He had tried to kidnap a bus full of people once before, Superman was able to defeat him, but I remember reading the Planet article said that Doomsday became immune to Superman's heat vision. How was he going to defeat Doomsday now, I thought, if he even knew of our peril. I could hear a whirl noise around us, the Man of Steel did hear us! He was flying around us and Doomsday, trying to taunt him, to get him to drop the bus. "HA!" Doomsday shouted and dropped the bus with all of us in it. I thought for sure we would be smashed upon impact, but Superman caught us and quickly set us down. Superman was always my hero, he was everyone's! He was the man I always wished I'd be every time I was picked on, and despite fearing for my life, I thought it so cool that I could finally see him with my own eyes, in action! The two of them started fighting, I could see it out the window. Superman, probably only 1/4 the size of Doomsday was using brute physical force to shove the monster further into the forest and away from the street. The bus driver tried to pull away but couldn't. "Let's get out of here!" he shouted, realizing the bus had completely broken down. We all fled, running in different directions, trying to avoid wherever the superbeings were and get to safety. I kept running further and further south but realized I was all alone after a few minutes. I could hear punching and screeching getting closer and closer to my proximity, and decided to hide under a fallen tree. I couldn't believe it when the superbeings knocked each other, flying, right into the ground less than 20 feet away from me, shattering the surface and creating a crater that stretched to my feet. Doomsday had the upper hand, after laying some successive blows into Superman, he picked him up with his fist and licked him with a long, disgusting, reptilian-like tongue. "AARGH!" Superman shouted, the saliva from Doomsday turning his cheek. "Mmm, tastes good," the low, grumbly voice shouted in glee. "And now, to take all of your powers," Doomsday continued," I finally created a toxin made from black kryptonite that will extract your powers and feed them to me! HAHA" the being laugh manically. "I used the bus of kidnapped humans to lure, and now...I have you!" Doomsday started breathing heavily, taking long, slow breaths I assumed to ready his poison. "No, Superman!" I thought to myself, "you have to come through," I could tell the Man of Steel was growing weaker and weaker, but he was fumbling in his side pouch near his underwear, a little container of something that he had. I saw him open it. It was green kryptonite and as soon as he released it a green puff of smoke emerged, knocking both of the superheroes out, "GARGH!" they both shouted, as the both lost the force of Doomsday's grip. They flew backwards, most of the kryptonite landing on Doomsday and causing him to thrash about, flying him against a tree and slumping down to the forest ground. Superman flew in the other direction, landing in a small brush and topping onto his stomach. He appeared badly hurt. Lifting my head higher, slowly gaining more confidence to see the scene, waited for the two superheroes to see if either would move. When they did not, I quietly, but quickly rushed to my hero's side. Bad boils started to form on Superman's skin, they were turning red then burning to a char-like color. "Superman!" I whispered, "You need help! What can I do to help you?" Superman turned to me with his weak eyes. "You," he said, "you must complete what I have failed." "what are you talking about?" I answered, "You have to get up before Doomsday awakens." "I cannot," he said, barely able to utter a word. "The kryptonite will turn Doomsday back into his human form for a short while, while he recharges his powers, then he will take over his true form once more and steal my powers from me. He already has drained me. You cannot let him take my powers." I felt terrible for Superman, but couldn't believe that he was going to ask me for help. "What can I do?" I asked. "Anything." "The end is coming for me," he whispered, the burns now completely covering his face, burning off his hair and shredding his superhero outfit. "The poison is destroying me, Ohhf..." "Quickly, son," he said, "take my spandex loin, and wear it. They are going to contain all of my powers, you must inherit them and use them to defeat Doomsday!" My hands started shaking with fear. "No, wait, what? I'm not cut out to be a superhero!" I said. "But you must," he said, "for I am...no...more..." Superman gagged and his skin deflated, his entire massive body flatting and curling into his suit. His suit in turn started to dissolve, all of it folding and melting into a red and blue goo that soaked into the underwear, leaving only the one piece of cloth on the ground. "Holy shit!" I whispered to myself. I paused for a brief moment then grabbed the briefs. I turned around to see the grey, rock-like monster Doomsday start to lose his own size. The brute started shrinking from his 15 foot frame down to 10 then 6 as his muscle mass flattened out to something much more human-like. He was transforming back into a human form! As the grey bulky mass dissolved, a bulked and young looking, tanned skin emerged, and he became someone I had seen before, but I wasn't sure his name. The rock body soaked into the skin leaving a naked, but still well-bulked, young guy probably around my age. I had seen him at a hospital before, I thought, but didn't know his name. I backed away quickly, the creature would surely awaken soon. I ducked behind some bushes and stared at him only for a moment before the naked man opened his eyes, a red, evil glow emerging from them. "Oh Superman," the man beckoned, his masculine voice not all that different from when he was in his superpowered state, "where did you go?" I slowly backed away as the naked man stood, walking with total confidence toward the burnt indentation where Superman's body once lay. His uncut dick rocked back and forth, its girth knocking between his thighs. The man had no qualms about his total nudity, he was completely comfortable with himself. He bent at the knees and I gulped as I watched his bulk ass stretch inward as his thigh muscles tightened. The thin, black covering of hair on his legs moved over the sides of his butt cheeks with total masculine effect. I was both intimidated and entrenched by him. Even the bullies who used to kick me to the ground in the showers weren't as big as this guy. There was no way I would be able to evade this guy for long. I looked in my hands at the lycra underwear that Superman left for me. I knew that they were more than just a covering for one's loins. These things must have had Superman's power wrapped into him. What if I put them on? Would I, become him? Could it be possible? "Where did you go!" Doomsday shouted as he stood once more. He took a deep breath through his nose, smelling for something suspicious. Smelling for....me. "My senses might not be as strong as a human, but I know something is afoot!" he shouted as he looked around. I knew I had no choice. I had to either put on the suit, or risk having the super being overpower me and take the suit for himself. If Doomsday gained all of Superman's powers, he would surely see the end of me right then and there. I quietly stepped out of my shoes and pulled off my socks. I had no time to think. No time to be scared for what would become of me. It was now or never. I pulled off my shirt and slowly took steps away from Doomsday as he started to identify where I could be. "Who else is here?" He asked with a smirk on his face. "Could this be a challenge? Could I met a match in my quest for Superman's powers?" He started walking toward me with a faster step,. I had no time. I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans, but the "zipp" sound immediately turned him to me. We met eye to eye. And he knew what I was up to. "Oh I don't think so, you human!" He shouted as his pace quickened. "That suit is mine, little man, and when I get it, I will see the end of you!" "Ahh!" I shouted, sounding like a little wimp, watching his eyes looking to me with utter evil and pleasure in destroying me. Doomsday couldn't use his powers while in human form, I could see that, but it wouldn't be long before he had recovered and would be back into his super evil being, and anyway his human strength and agility would easily power over me. I had to get the suit on if I wanted to live at all. I dropped my jeans and now, only in my boxers, I ran, I ran as fast as I could, I hurdled over fallen trees and bushes, I jumped over a stream and bed of rocks. I moved faster than I ever had in my life. I had to hurry, I could hear the steps behind me running with ferocious energy. I pulled down my boxers and left them behind me, getting completely naked. I had no time to waste, no time to think for a moment, and certainly no time to be embarrassed by my skinny frame and nude figure. I unfurled the lycra but kept running. They were small but still fit Superman's massive frame inside it, they would surely fit mine. I slowed down for only a moment to slip my left foot through it, before picking back up the pace. I immediately felt my running ability hasten as I gained more stamina. The underwear was pushing some kind of strength into me, even if it wasn't all of the Man of Steel's powers. I gained just enough distance from Doomsday to fully stop and step my right leg through. I had no time to think. I started pulling the suit up my legs, feeling ever increasing amounts of strength and stamina fill my legs when Doomsday finally caught up with me. But he was too late. I wrapped the suit over my skinny butt and pulled the suit up over my crotch and onto my waste as fast as I ever could. The second the lycra "snapped" over my waste, Doomsday turned me around by force. But within that same split second, the suit started pouring power into me, up through my butt and pecker, into my balls and out through my body. I could feel it, the powers of the man of steel, and at that very moment all of my humanly desires and mortal wants flew aside, I was becoming Superman, I was becoming immortal. Doomsday grabbed the suit at my crotch but the suit, now my own, now fully claimed by me, sparked a red and blue shock of electricity on his hand, scarring it. "SHIT!" the monster shouted, backing his naked body away from me. "Oh no!" he said, "NO NO NOOOO!" "YES!" I Shouted in reply, "watch me, Doomsday, watch me claim what is now rightfully Mine!! ARRRRGH!'" As Superman's confidence pulled itself out of the suit and into me, so too did his powers. My back uncontrollably stretched and bent itself as I felt the suit's power pour out from my loins and into my body, my back and abs gaining muscle and girth, pushing themselves outward and defining a deep, crevice 8-pack as my Adonis cut a deep V pointing down toward my crotch. Doomsday stared as he saw my pecs flatten and bulk outward, doubling the size of his as hair emerged from over the suit and up my abs and onto my chest. My shoulders broadened as my arms bulked outward, biceps doubling then tripling their size both upward and outward, veins stretching under my skin and elongating my forearms and hands. My legs too exploded into footballs, growing outward and lengthening my frame from 6 to 6.5 feet, hair growing downward over my body. My cock started pushing itself against the lycra, and as it increased size, the power of the suit poured more into it, my sausage curving over my balls as they become completely discernible underneath the cloth. I rubbed it and felt an immediate explosion of orgasm, way better than I ever had as a mortal. "Fuck yea!" I told myself, growing ever more confident in my form as more hair emerged under my arm pits and on my face, creating a shadow over my face. "Watch Doomsday, for it will surely be your last time as a free man! HAHAH!" I said, my body lifting itself as I gained the power of flight. I could feel all of Superman's powers as well as some of Doomsday's powers from his black kryptonite toxin leaking into my own body, I had trouble making sense of how to use them for I knew nothing of super powers before, but the orgasmic feeling of gaining them was so intoxicating that I wished for nothing else. I didn't want it to end. "MORE! MOOOORRRREE!" I shouted as I exploded with Superman's powers. "Superman, I will completely your mission, as soon as I deal with this mutant!" I swore to him, and as I did, the lycra from the suit spread outward from the underwear, moving down my legs, and up over my bulked torso and abs, reforming a new Superman uniform over me. Growing a cap out behind me as I levitated above Doomsday. The transformation complete, I quickly flew around the sky before returning to Doomsday. I Kicked him to turn him around but saw him cackling. "You think this is it? Just because you're the new Superman?!" He shouted. He flew up from the ground in one jump, the naked man returning to his feet. I flew down to the ground and set my feet next to his, shoving him backwards. "You know not of what I am capable of!" He shouted, his body bulking up once more as a grey rock-like form returned to him once more. He was returning to his super form! "You want a fight?" He asked, bulking to twice the size of my own new super form. "Come and get it!" To be continued.

Chapter 58 I had expected a large, communal changing area, but I had a private changing room. It was a small room, but it was a private room. Meagerly furnished, it had a small wooden chair, a lighted vanity mirror, and a black metal coatrack to hang my clothes on. I don’t know what strings Dave had to pull to get it, but I would remember to thank him for it. As soon as James closed the door behind him, he locked it and leaned his back against it. I’d seen that look in his eyes. He was thinking ungentlemanly thoughts. “Not now, James,” I said as I pulled my pants off. “That’s not what I was thinking,” he said. “Wasn’t it?” After a second, he said, “That’s not all I was thinking.” It was less than an hour to my routine, and I was suddenly nervous because my parents were in the audience. And now James was being coy. “Well?” I asked, now standing completely naked. “Out with it.” James came over and began stroking my abs with his left hand. “I was just thinking,” he put his other hand on my shoulder and began tracing tiny loops with his finger, “that you’re so close to 300. So achingly close.” I could see where this was going, but I was enjoying the attention. James continued. “It seems a shame not to go out and give your best show. They audience came expecting to see a rising star of college bodybuilding. The biggest one.” “290 is plenty big. I’m already the biggest guy onstage. Maybe the biggest guy here.” “We can get rid of that ‘maybe,’” James added, lowering his left hand to my cock. It began to harden on contact. “That’s underhanded,” I said. “And if you wake my cock up, it’s your responsibility to put it back to sleep.” “I’d be delighted,” he said, moving his left hand lower to tickle my balls. “My official weigh in was 290 pounds. They’ll know something’s up.” “They’re not going to weigh you onstage,” James said, moving his lips closer to my ear to whisper. “And a guy like you, a guy who’s already so big, ten pounds might go unnoticed.” I was now at full mast. James fit as much of his hand around my shaft as he could and begin stroking it up and down. He started kissing my ear, his beard rubbing my check and neck. He moved his right hand to the back of my head and pulled me closer to him. “Fine,” I acceded. “Ten pounds.” “That’s my Big Guy,” James cooed. “My beautiful Big Guy.” I shuddered in the deep pleasure of the erotic euphoria, my entire body a current of electric excitement. I turned my head to kiss James. As I did, James backed away. “Fuck!” he said with a note of panic in his voice. “What?” I asked, coming out of my reverie. “Hand jobs count as sex,” James said. “Good rule to know.” “What do you mean?” I asked as I looked down. Even past my giant shelf of pecs, I could see my cock, enlarged and inflated to Himalayan proportions, pressing itself firmly into my pec cleavage. All trace of panic left James, and his wicked smile returned. “That looks absolutely delightful.” My cock was had thickened nearly to the size of a forearm—and not a weak one either, the forearm of someone Luke’s size. My balls were roiling in their newfound volume, each practically the size of a softball. The tip of my cockhead was nestled so gingerly in my pecs, but every breath in or out caused my pecs to heave, stroking my cock head. “I have an idea,” I said to James. “Get me something to strap this beast down for a bit.” Dutifully, James fetched my belt and strapped my cock to my upper thigh. The thigh and cock together were almost too much girth for the belt as my thigh was already much thicker than my waist. Once it was secure, I put James’s hand on my cheek. “Still want me at 300?” I asked. “More than anything,” he replied. “Well, then, you know what to do.” “Big Guy,” James said. “You’re my Big Guy.” I felt my muscles burst with energy and swell outwards as an intense fire of deep joy burned through my brain. Ten pounds might go unnoticed by the audience, but I could feel each pound push my body outwards beyond its known limits. My shoulders went wider, my arms rounded stronger, my chest pulled outwards. It may have been my imagination, but it actually felt like my waist pulled inwards. In the mirror I could see that I now definitely had a 10-pack. If they were an urban legend, then I was Bigfoot. As the growth hit my legs, my thigh/cock combo snapped the belt. I was an immense 300-pound behemoth with an 18-inch god-cock. Now free from its prison, my cock returned back to my pecs, but my pecs were now fuller, bigger, and harder, wrapping my cock in their grip. I flexed my pecs while pulling my torso up and down with my ab muscles, fucking my own pecs. I worked the tip of my cock harder and harder, flexing my pecs tighter, forcing in more blood until my cock and pecs blushed red like ripe fruit. James had pulled out his own cock and stroked himself mindlessly. I had never felt so powerful, massive, virile, or erotic. I turned to faced the mirror, and the sight of my giant cock fucking my giant muscles drove me over the edge, and I erupted. My arm flew to the wall to support myself, but it went right through the wall and left a hole. I pumped out more cum. With my other hand, I reached out for James’s shoulder to support myself but ended up pushing him to the ground. His cock also exploded, adding his cum to mine. I pumped out more cum. I threw my head back to get more air into my lungs. This huge body required a lot of oxygen, especially right now. I pumped out more cum. Still in the throes of it, I began grunting in time to my body’s vibrations. I pumped out more cum. James looked up at me in awe. I had trouble seeing him over my pecs. I could just make out his eyes and the top of his forehead. I pumped out more cum. Finally, I felt my orgasm subside. I collapsed backwards onto the chair, and it broke underneath me. “They were kind enough to give me a private room” I said, surveying the hole in the wall and the pile of splinters underneath me, “and I went and ruined it.” “Rock stars always wreck their dressing rooms,” James said, his pecs heaving. “They’re never inviting me back,” I added. “You didn’t want to come back,” James said. Changing the subject, he added, “Next time, can I fuck those puppies?” He pointed at my pecs. I laughed, loud and heartily. “I look forward to it,” I said. “Especially since I doubt I’ll be able to get this anywhere inside you.” “Where there’s a will,” James said. “But you’re right. It will be a lot of effort. And a lot of lube.” “That’s an understatement,” I said, standing up to begin getting ready. “It’ll be a lot of effort just to get this ostrich eggs into the poser I brought. Getting my cock up your ass will require contortion and the dark arts.” I reached up to wipe my pecs, and felt just how large my arms were. If I hadn’t been forced to do yoga every day for the last three weeks, I doubt I would be able to stretch my arm around my pecs to reach the front of them. As my arms flexed in full relief, blowing up like an overinflated football, James said, “If you keep growing at this rate, your arms are going to get bigger than your waist.” “I’m trying to get my cock to go down,” I said. “Save talk like that for our next fuck.” “Sorry,” James said, admonished. “So, what should I do now?” He, like the room, was covered in our cum. “Clean up. As much as you can.” With that, James was on his feet and licking off my chest. “I meant with a towel,” I said. “Where’s the fun in that?” James said between licks. “Besides, if I had to wait until after the show to feel up these mighty pecs, my head would explode.” Once James had gotten the bulk of it off me, I grabbed a towel and cleaned up the rest. “Are you just going to hide out in here the rest of the day?” I asked. James pulled out a change of clothes from the bag. “A gentleman prepares,” he said. “While you’re in there,” I added, “could you get my posers?” James pulled out my posers. It was bright gold, just like my Rocky thong had been, and unlike the posers I’d been practicing in all week, there was barely any fabric except for the prodigious pouch. “My posers are red,” I said. “The ones I practiced in all last week are red.” “This will look so much better,” James said. “You didn’t even bring my red posers, did you?” I asked. “Why would I do a foolish thing like that?” Getting the posers up to my knees was easy enough. Getting them over my thighs took a little effort, but once they were past the thickest part, they slid right up. I got one testicle into the pouch, and it fit easily, but the fabric fought the second testicle as I tried to put that one in. Once they were both in, I was convinced there was no room for my cock. Even flaccid, this thing was about twice the size of my original erect cock. But I fought and folded and futzed, and eventually got the whole thing in. I looked at myself in the mirror. It looked like I was trying to smuggle a watermelon. “They’re going to notice this,” I argued. “Maybe,” James said. “but so what?” “I’m going to get arrested for public indecency,” I said. “I will gladly pay your bail,” James said, kissing my shoulder. “This is sort of my fault.” I patted James on the head and took a deep breath. In the reflection, James and I locked eye contact, and his eyes flashed gold. “It’s show time,” he said.

Chapter 57 Dave drove the four of us to the convention center in the city. The car was a surreal experience. I’d been in it only two weeks ago, but in just those two weeks, James and I had gotten so big that the back seat was crowded with us, shoulder pressed to shoulder. And now I did need the seatbelt expander to get the belt around my pecs. “Don’t let your ego get too big, Chrissy,” Dave said. “Luxury cars always have small seatbelts. I was dressed in my nicest clothes—Dave insisted. James had my bag with my posing outfit; I was going to change after we checked in. Charles had arrived at the convention center before us to get our passes and itinerary, so we walked in through the front doors to find him. The first thing I did when I walked in was survey the other bodybuilders and muscle men who had been invited to compete. “It can’t be,” I said. “It just can’t be.” Luke, reading my mind, slapped my back. “Yep, buddy. You’re the biggest fucker here. There are some pros who go up above 300 in the off season, but for competitions? You’re still big dog.” My pants suddenly became tight. “Woof,” I said, trying to sound like I was playing along, like Luke’s comment had just rolled off my back, but I was betrayed by the doubt in my voice. “Do I detect a note of reticence?” Dave asked. “I don’t understand.” “I’m a fake. They’ll spot me for the fake I am. I don’t think I can do this anymore.” “Nonsense,” Dave said. “You have every right to be here.” “Do I? They earned their muscles. They’re athletes, Dave. You keep reminding me how much of one I’m not.” Dave burst out laughing. “Oh my God, Chrissy. You are taking this way too seriously. You’re not committing to anything. This is one bodybuilding show. You’re not going pro. You’re not stealing anyone’s livelihood. This is merely an opportunity. A key to a door that used to be locked to you.” “De-metaphor that, please.” “Let’s say you come to LA with me. To get a job in entertainment, you need name recognition. You’ve already got a little, but doing a good show here will give you a lot. Let’s say you take Nicholas Donner up on his offer to be his muse. To be valuable to him, you need a beautiful body. Doing a good show here will validate your beauty and raise how much he’ll pay for the privilege to photograph it. Let’s say you stick with your degree and go into medicine. To get into that career, you’re going to need a Masters, maybe a PhD. Doing a good show here will make you stand out from all the other applicants, making it easier to get into the program of your choice. This is just a feather in your cap, Chrissy. Enjoy your day. Don’t take it so seriously.” “Thanks, Dave.” “No problem. Just remember that beautiful speech in the next five minutes.” “Why?” I asked. Dave walked away from me into the crowd and shouted, “Angela! Matthew!” as he walked to two people who seemed utterly lost and out of place. Angela was a tall woman with a streak of gray in her sandy blonde hair and a look of nervousness on her face. She was wearing make-up, but the haphazard way it was applied gave away the fact that she almost never wore it. She was dressed in a maroon sweater and matching pants in an expensive-looking pair of flats. She had a death grip around her large black purse, as though letting it go would untether her. Matthew was a shorter man, only coming up to her shoulder, and his curly brown hair resisted being combed. His brown eyes sparkled with kindness, but he had a slight squint to them because he refused to wear his glasses. His cheeks showed the beginnings of smile lines. He was wearing a Christmas sweater and black denim pants. Somehow, the whole discordant look made sense when you saw his sneakers: this was a man who put on whatever was closest to him. “Angela and Matthew?” I repeated, shocked. “Are those?” James asked. “Yep,” Luke said. “My parents.” Dave led my parents back over to where the three of us were standing. When my father saw me, he tapped on Mom’s shoulder. “Angie, my glasses.” She fished them out of her purse and handed them to him. Dad put his glasses on and scrutinized his son. “Well, hello, Chris. It’s good to see you again. I like the blond. I might try it myself.” Mom put her hand on my shoulder and smiled. “It is lovely to see you.” Where was the shock? The surprise? The horror? “You two seem unfazed by my size.” “We follow you on Instagram and Twitter, Chris,” Dad said. “We’ve seen the steady progress.” “We ‘like’ all your pictures,” Mom added. “I have an Instagram?” Dave coughed and pulled out his phone. “So, all those pictures you’ve taken of me…?” I trailed off. “And about 9.000 more you didn’t notice,” Dave said. “So that wasn’t your account?” Mom asked. “Dave has been acting as my manager. He took care of it for me.” Seeing the tension that was about to build up, Luke took his cue. “We’ll leave you to the family reunion,” Luke said, leading Dave away. “Come on, babe.” “But I want to stay.” “I know you do, which is why I’m taking you someplace where you can’t add your color commentary.” With that, they melted into the crowd. Once Dave and Luke were out of earshot, Mom said, “I do think this is a bit extreme, but that Charles fellow assures me you are in prime health, and he’s sent me your medical records.” She looked me up and down. “You look eerily like Uncle Rudy, but he never got this big.” She shook her head. “It’s uncanny.” I hugged my mother and kissed her on the cheek. “I love you too, Mom.” Dad turned his cheek and leaned forward. “I love you too, Dad.” Dad got in a bit closer to size me up properly. “It’s hard to believe I’m your father. You’re huge. You could pick me up like a baby.” “One-handed,” I added, flexing my bicep. “That is quite impressive. That is the biggest arm I have ever seen.” He put his hands on my waist. “And yet you’re so trim.” His hands went back and forth between our two waists. He was dumbfounded to discover that mine was smaller than his, and he was a rather fit man. “How do you support that upper body with this little thing?” He knocked a finger against my abs, just a gentle knock, and the solidness of my core hurt his finger. “Ah. That’s how,” he said, blowing on his finger. “You built a retaining wall.” “Thanks, Dad,” I said, a little weirded out by how my dad was talking about my body. Dad let go of me and looked around. “So, we know Luke, and we just met Dave. Where’s the boyfriend?” I looked to my right. James had vanished. I turned around, and there he was behind me, cowering down so my parents wouldn’t see him. I gave him a look of mild amusement, and he waved at me sheepishly. “You got this,” I said to him. He took a deep breath and stepped from around me. “Hello, Dr…” Mom interrupted him by saying, “Sweet Jesus!” “What?” I asked, concerned. “This giant man was hiding behind you?” “Yeah,” I said. “He gets shy around strangers.” “Not my point. He’s huge, he’s big enough to compete, and he hid behind you.” This is the shock I was looking for. “You saw how big I was.” “Seeing and understanding are two entirely different things.” She turned to James. “I’m sorry for shouting. That was rude. You can call me Angie. This is my husband Matt.” Dad put his hand out for James to shake, and he just stared at it. “You don’t shake hands?” Dad asked. “He’s a hugger,” I said. A smile spreading on his face, Dad opened his arms wide, “Then come on and hug me.” Seeing my father and James hug was yet another thing to add to the list of surreal things I had experienced that day. “I’ll just wave,” Mom said. “I’m not much for hugging.” James nodded and stood next to my father, who looked James up and down from head to toe. “He’s a cute one, Chris. Walk with me, James.” With that, my father escorted James away to have a private conversation. “Don’t worry,” Mom said. “He’s just seeing if James is available to stay with us for part of winter break. We want to get to know him better.” Her voice had a mild sharpness to it. I knew this tone. This was the beginning of a guilt trip. “That’s cool.” “Since you’ve already spent a week with his fathers.” Her tone was intensifying. “A weekend,” I corrected. “And Thanksgiving,” she added, her tone even more pointed. And… I felt guilty. “I get it. I’m sorry. I didn’t know Thanksgiving was so important to you.” “Who cares about Thanksgiving? That patriarchal nightmare? We missed you.” “I’m sorry, Mom.” “I do understand, though. I was young once too. Though, I must say, my college boyfriend looked nothing like that young man.” “Mom,” I said, goading her a little, “are you saying my boyfriend is hot?” Mom remained un-goaded. “It’s an objective fact, son.” She looked at me and added, “Are his eyes purple?” “Violet,” I said. “Though he insists they’re blue.” “They’re medically fascinating,” she stated. Then, as an afterthought, she admitted, “And mesmerizing.” “I like ‘em,” I said, downplaying it. “And he’s bigger than I expected. Did he get you into weightlifting?” she asked. “It was more Dave and Luke who did that, but we workout together, yes.” “Are you going to be able to watch each other’s routines?” I laughed so hard I snorted. “What’s so funny?” “When you get to know James better, you’ll realize how funny it was to suggest he’d go onstage.” “You did say he was shy.” “Incredibly. And I’m not competing, Mom. I’m just doing a routine. I’m ineligible to compete.” “That’s right, Dave said as much.” She shook her head. “The soccer team? You never showed the least ambition or talent for soccer before.” “I still don’t. I’ll explain the whole thing at Christmas. It’s a long story. Right now, I want to know why you and Dad are even here.” “To support you, of course.” “I don’t follow.” “Well, we missed the senior showcase because it came up so quickly. We were all set to go to your soccer debut, but then I had to cover for a sick colleague. We’ve missed too many of your events this year.” “You knew about the showcase and the soccer game?” “Yes. Dave…” I interrupted. “Dave invited you? To all of them?” “Of course. We’re just glad we could finally make it to one. Although, it does feel a little silly coming all the way down here when we’ll just be seeing you next week anyways. But, I’ve never been to a bodybuilding show, and, well, I think it’s healthy try everything once.” She looked around the room and saw half a dozen men wearing only their posers. “Once.” She repeated. James came bounding back and grabbed me by the arms. “Matt invited me to your house for winter break. From the 18th, straight through Christmas.” My father slowly walked back and joined us. “It’s official.” “Dad, I have to ask,” I said, pointing to his sweater. “What’s with that ugly thing?” “I think it’s neat. Besides, I needed something to put over my t-shirt.” “T-shirt?” I asked. “Don’t,” Angela said, her hand going to her temple. Dad whipped off his sweater, and underneath was a light blue t-shirt, tucked into his pants, that read, in yellow letters, “Father of @SoccerTweetGuy.” “Dad, that is both horrible and awesome. Is that my twitter handle?” “Yep. Do you love it or do you love it? Or do you love it?” “It’s great, Dad.” “You should see the one he made for the soccer game,” Mom said. “Ever since he became this huge, hulking hero who looks almost nothing like me, I want people to know he’s my son. A father can brag.” “I think it’s awesome,” James said. “Thank you, James.” At that moment, Charles came from out of nowhere and threw an ID badge and a manila envelope at me. “Come on, schmoopsy. Let’s get a move on. Tickety-boo.” “Is he for real?” Dad asked. “Charles, these are my parents,” I said. “Charmed. Now, scoot, mister. Your routine is in just under an hour, and you’ve got to get changed.” Before I could even say goodbye to my parents, Charles railroaded James and me to the backstage area.

Chapter 56 As soon as we recovered, we dressed, found some cleaning supplies in a closet, cleaned up our table, and locked all the cafeteria doors behind us. We were back in our bed and spooning within a half hour, and back on Charles’s demanding schedule. I woke up on Tuesday. My calendar was so full, I had to take stock of everything that was headed my way. Counting that day, it was just over a week until the invitational. Thursday was the last day of class, my philosophy final was due in one week, and the day after that was the invitational. And Charles had promised that the last week of training was going to be the hardest. This was going to be grueling. Luke and Dave were nowhere to be found until lunch. When they did show up at our usual table, they had huge smiles on their faces. “Pleasant honeymoon?” I asked. “Something like that,” Luke said. “What did you two get up to last night?” Dave asked with a leading tone. James unabashedly announced, “Chris walked across campus naked and then we fucked at this exact table.” Dave, genuinely taken aback, said, “I thought I was the dramatic one.” Luke’s big, cheesy smile was back. “That’s right, studs.” He pounded James’s fist, and then mine. “It wasn’t on Charles’s schedule, but last night was special,” I said. “I’ll say,” Dave said, hiding something behind his voice. I would have pried to find out what the secret was, but Charles was expecting us in the athletic center. And then the days began to blur together again. Lifting. Posing. Fucking. Sleeping. Wednesday. Class. Homework. Eating. Lifting. Dancing. Fucking. Sleeping. Thursday Class. Homework. Eating. Lifting. Posing. Fucking. Sleeping. On Friday, the absence of class made my world feel like a record that had skipped its groove. Charles filled in the schedule with some extra lifting, posing, and dance practice. I had come nowhere near close to mastering the intricate feats of the hard dance routine, but I had nailed down the simpler two. I could barely do a handspring with both hands, but Charles was my unquestioned lord and master, so I still tried to do the one-handed one. And on top of all that, I still had to write my philosophy paper. The schedule changed, but only barely. Eating. Lifting. Posing. Dancing. Fucking. Writing Lifting. Dancing. Fucking. Sleeping. Saturday. Eating. Lifting. Posing. Fucking. Writing Lifting. Posing. Fucking. Sleeping. Sunday. Eating. Lifting. Dancing. Fucking. Writing Lifting. Posing. Dancing. Fucking. Sleeping. Monday. Eating. Lifting. Posing. Fucking. Writing Lifting. Dancing. Fucking. Sleeping I woke up, and it was Tuesday morning again. I felt mighty and powerful. All my lifts were insanely high, my clothes were feeling tight in the arms and shoulders, but loose around my waist, which was somehow even more taut and defined than it had been a month ago. I could swear I had the beginnings of a ten-pack, and I thought those were only urban legends. I put on my favorite long-sleeved workout shirt so I wouldn’t need to put on a jacket, and I walked to my philosophy professor’s office. I put my essay in his mailbox, and I felt a relief wash over me. Somewhere deep inside of me, I knew it was an A paper. I don’t know how I had managed it, but I had. When I got back to my room, James was waiting for me in his workout gear. “It’s weigh-in today.” I was blasé about the whole thing, pretty sure I’d still be around 285. I might even had dropped a little weight. Sure, I could tell I was stronger, so I might have put on some muscle, but it was counterbalanced and redistributed by some weight I’d lost. I was beyond shredded. I thought I could see my muscle fibers before: I now was a relief map of fibers and veins. James was far from blasé. Ever since Charles had forbidden us from weighing ourselves, James was excited to see what his weight was. He had never put on so much mass so much so fast. He’d been hovering around 210-215 before Charles’s boot camp, and he had to know just how much he’d put on. We got to the athletic center and found Charles in the room he was using as his private office. He was standing next to a scale. “Morning, dudarinos. I know you’ve been praying for this day. So, let’s get to doing. Chris, you first.” I stepped on the scale, and Charles said, “Excellent. Right where I expected.” I looked down at my mass, as far as I could considering how far out my pecs jutted. “Can you read the display for me?” I asked. “290, silly,” Charles said. I’d somehow put on five pounds. “Aren’t I supposed to lose weight during conditioning?” I asked Charles. “You’re an odd one, that’s sure as sugar,” Charles said. “Now, James, you’re up, fella.” We all knew James had put on muscle—Charles had had him on my diet and workout plan—but when James stepped on the scale, I was blown away. 233. James came over to get a huge hug, and I took my opportunity. “Eighteen pounds in three weeks?” I whispered to James, dumbfounded. “That’s not biologically possible!” “Really?” James said. “You, of all people, want to tell me what’s biologically possible.” “Hey, it didn’t take me three weeks. It took me thirty seconds,” I said. “I hear whispering!” Charles said in his sing-song. “You two love-doodles really whisper a lot.” “Sorry, Charles,” we said in unison. “Good work, team!” Charles said. He turned to James and added, “You’re as big as me now, Mr. Shy-Pants.” The realization that my James had grown so big as to be the same size as this frightening mountain of man muscle hit me like a ton of bricks. Of its own accord, my 16-inch cock grew so stiff that it pulled down the front of my boxer briefs and workout tights. I felt like I was going to explode right there. “I’ll leave you to take care of that,” Charles said. “Be quick like bunnies. You’re under my control for one more day, and I won’t let you slack.” Once Charles was out of the office, James locked the door behind him and lowered the blind. “We’re fucking huge,” James said. I could see he was equally erect. I kept Charles’s desk between James and me. I had questions before we celebrated. “You didn’t Big Guy me while I was asleep or something, did you?” “Of course not. Besides, it only works if you hear it.” “Are you sure? I wouldn’t be mad.” “I tried it, of course, back during fall break, and nothing happened. I promise you, if you don’t hear it, it won’t happen.” “Chris, I put on 18 pounds. You can’t Big Guy me.” “Was Charles dosing us with something? He did always have the cafeteria ladies set aside our food, specially made.” “I don’t care. I don’t care if it was drugs, or if it was the power of suggestion, or if it was magic,” James said. “You look unbelievable.” “I look unbelievable?” I said. “Look at you. You’re getting massive yourself, there. Your pecs are so firm and round, your arms are so powerful...” James interrupted with, “And you’re about to drip pre onto Charles’s desk.” I turned to the side so my cockhead was over the floor, and not his desk. Through the door, that childlike singsong came in loud and clear. “I hear more whispers when I should be hearing someone slay a dragon. Make it snappy.” James moved over to Charles’s filing cabinet and pulled open the top drawer. “I was going to have Charles give this to you after the invitational, sort of as a reward, but I think we need its powers now.” “What is it?” I asked. James took something out of the top drawer and dropped it on Charles’s desk. “Open to November,” he said. “The calendar’s in?” I asked. I flipped to November, and there I was. I remember when I took that picture, I was bigger than the entire soccer team, and my cock was so big that I couldn’t fit in the modesty pouch. And now. “I look so tiny,” I said. “That’s because the man in that picture,” James said, “that hot man, that man who the photographer called a beefy motherfucker, is tiny compared to you. Your cock is four whole inches bigger, and you weigh a hundred pounds more than him.” Four inches? A hundred? My orgasm came so suddenly that I had no time to brace myself. The force was so powerful that it knocked me back against the wall in Charles’s office. Stream after stream of cum sprayed out of my cock. I roared so loudly that I actually felt my torso rumble. The sheer massiveness of my body was enough to send me into this height of orgasmic rapture. Seeing me cum, James brought himself to a quick orgasm with his right hand, watching my humongous body explode, objectifying me as though I were a porn video and not his boyfriend. As I stood there, trying to get my footing, leaning against the wall, we heard Charles through the door. “Super-duper. Change into some fresh workout clothes, and let’s make the most of this last day.”

I sincerely apologize for the fact that I let this story go so long without a new chapter. I'm trying to be better! New deadlines and all that, so hopefully I'll have a new chapter up by at the latest, next month. (at the latest, promise lol) So, here's the story with more than a few changes. Not sure how long this will end up being, but with any luck, it'll be a good bit, at least as long as SeventhWaves Symbiote War. Without further ado, my story: ~~~ This all started when I moved in with my roommate, John. For starters, I was pretty well off, but since my parents had decided it was time for me to get a place of my own for college, I was pretty much kicked out until my four years were up. They said that they would pay my way into whatever place I chose, but there were to be no issues, “Or else.” My father had said. So I moved into the dorms with him. He was on the wrestling team, same as me, according the the receptionists in the lobby of the building, so I figured we’d get on decently. Rather, as well as most roommates do. I’d known that the start of move in day was going to be awkward; classes starting by noon for most of us, so we had little time for chit-chat, making what little conversation I’d be able to have with the guy would be even further limited. I was the first of the two of us to get to the dorm, and chose the desk to the left side of the bunk, as opposed to the one on the wall opposing the bunks. I figured it would just be easier, not having to listen to someone bitch about a light being on right next to their face. The dorm room was minimalistic, and everything served a purpose: the walls were bare and off-white; there was a small kitchen, and a bathroom just the right size for cleaning up after wrestling practice. I emptied my shit into one of the closets, throwing most of my underwear and spare gear into one of the drawers beneath my bunk. John arrived just as I was about to hop in the shower before my run of the campus began. It had been a long drive from the Nevada homestead to California, and my car’s a/c had very recently gone out. While the dorm room WAS cold, I was still hot and sweaty; due for a hosing off. I stripped off my t-shirt after I had put my clothes and bags away, and just as my shirt landed in the hamper, the door opened to reveal a guy built just big enough to be considered possible competition. All of maybe 175lbs, He was a hot, boy-next-door kinda guy. Blond hair, small-but-fit build, tan complexion, pale blue eyes. As I looked him over, he gave me a wolfish grin, looking me over in turn. Raising his eyebrows slightly as his eyes roved down the rows of chiseled muscle, I could tell he was impressed…with a touch of jealousy in the way his eyes narrowed at the edges. I took a look at his bags, happening to have a wrestling singlet sticking out of his sports duffel. He dressed in a tank top and shorts, complete with what looked like brand-new running shoes. My best guess, he was probably just about to scope out the gym himself. At 6’3”, dark haired, and a fair bit bigger than he was in muscle mass, I safely dwarfed him, my frame resting at a good 210 lbs. comfortably. Being that I had him on definition to boot, there was no denying who was the bigger man. He put his bags down by the door and walked over to me, scoping out the new digs but keeping most of his focus on me, stormy eyes that felt like they were boring holes into my skull from the intensity of his stare. “Hey man! Name’s John.” He said, giving me the official bro-hug, not letting his faux team cheer slide despite how obviously he envied me the current standing. “’figured coach would work with housing to get me in with another wrestler. Always trying to get me to make friends.” As he said this, he tightened his hold around me, demonstrating his crushing ability by pressing our bodies a little tight for friendly comfort. His entire front pressed against mine, the hug lasted just a little too long. Not one to be outdone, I returned with greater force, causing him to elicit a cross-breed between a moan of pleasure and a groan of pain. I assumed the latter. “I’m Nick.” I said, untangling myself from the sadistic hug. Immediately I felt kinda bad for not waiting on him to pick bunks. I look to my already made bed, navy blue sheets already neatly tucked in. “I kinda picked my bunk already, so I guess you can be on top?” “Works for me. I’m used to being on top.” He said with a wink, throwing everything but his duffle into his closet, setting an odd-looking black figurine on his desk before taking off, door slamming behind him. Puzzled and somewhat turned on by the cryptic behavior, I walked to the bathroom, stripping the rest of my clothes off on the way. . . . Since we attended an all-boys college, the nearest town, and girls, were about thirty minutes away. The college wasn’t particularly strict about dress code, so naturally, most of the guys wore whatever, but it being California, and the middle of July, we wore the bare minimum. Most of the guys on campus were either playing Frisbee, football, or catching up on summer work that hadn’t gotten finished between the semesters. Despite the sun shining, the school had a bluish hue in the very air around it. As I made my way across the quad, I shouted hellos to at least twenty of the guys, most being my friends having found this place on the scholarship roster in town after I applied myself; Room, board, tuition, all covered under some crazy donor program. I hadn’t exactly been worried about price when I’d applied myself, but even I knew the cost of admission was up there with the Ivy League schools. Finally hitting the biggest building on the campus, I make my way to the gym, four separate sections all devoted to letting loose and showing off your full physical potential. This was where I most excelled. Class didn’t start ‘til 12, so I figured it’d be a good time to practice, maybe do a few warmups with the guys before hitting workout room. The mats were down already, and the other wrestlers were already in the middle of practice. I walk past my teammates, two of them already looking a little worse for wear, and hit up the coach, making small talk about the improvements from some of the new guys. Carter and Benjamin were our “new talent” apparently, having gotten a late start into the sport but were steadily working their way up the roster as two of our best. Looking down at the growth charts, it’s amazing how much these guys have gained in so short a time. Impressed as I was, I was a bit skeptical, until coach shook his head, a knowing smile coming across his face as he addressed my exact concerns. “I know what you’re thinking, no, they’re not juicers. I’ve got them on strict watch. A little fruitier than I’d normally let on the team, but talent is talent, and we’re gonna need it to beat the teams from the rival schools.” He sighs, gazing off into the distance, presumably looking over at the trophy cabinet on the far wall. “You just don’t find raw talent like you used to anymore.” He gives me a look, a smile returning to his lightly bearded face. “But that’s why we pushed so hard to get you involved. Talent, Charisma, that’s what this team needs. I’ve never been so sure of a team captain in my life Nick.” He claps me on the shoulder, shoving me off toward the lockers. “Get dressed. We’ll get you warmed up and then you can be on your way.” As I make my way into the shared locker rooms, I passed half the swim team, the lifters, and the few teammates that hadn’t made it to the main floor yet. Mist throughout, I went to my locker to drop off my duffel and dress. I stripped my shirt, undoing the drawstring of my shorts, when the clank of a fist on steel alerted me to a presence on my right side. Deciding my attention was better spent preparing for my opponent, I let my mind drift until needed, until a pair of vaguely familiar sneakers appeared in my line of sight. “Sup dude?” “Hey John…” I looked up at him, trying to return his smile, the same smirk from earlier still on his face as I got out my singlet. I pulled it up, I watching from the corner of my eye as he appraised my body again, pulling off his clothes as he did so. “I’m not queer you know.” I said. Now in just his boxers, he stopped and turned fully to me with a cold glare. “What makes you think I’m queer, asshole?” He spat through clenched teeth. “You’re half hard bro, and you keep looking at me like I’m a steak or something.” My eyes narrowed. “I might be fine with guys checking me out, but you’re getting pretty creepy with the way you’re eyeballing me.” He pulls his boxers down past a modest-looking ass, and brandishes his dick toward me. “Does this look like a semi?” His dick filled his pouch to the waistband, but it was still completely flaccid. He was twice my soft length, and a little less than my girth. My guess was about 6 inches. Hard, he'd probably add two inches at least. He walks over to the mirror behind me, giving himself a once over before packing himself up, pulling his singlet taut over his chest, outlining the muscle. At my awed expression, his glare became a cruel smile. “As for how I’m looking at you…not that you’re hard on the eyes, but I wanna see just what my competition looks like.” He pulled his boxers and singlet up, “so I can figure out what needs taken care of.” “Forgot your cup, bro.” He struts past me, making a grab for my balls, forcing me to feign away, eliciting a chuckle. “Seeya out there, roomy.” . . . Practice ended about forty-five minutes later, and everyone was mostly packed up, leaving just me and John on the floor with coach. “Alright boys, you know the drill, last two to leave packs it in. And Nick, I’m expecting you here early tomorrow to pick up where we left off getting the new guys trained up, ya hear?” Without waiting for a reply, coach grabs his own bag, heading off to the showers to lock up his office. “Hey Nick.” John called from across the floor, most of the mats already set off in a neat pile. “How about a little friendly one-on-one? Winners pick for a prize later tonight.” I hesitated. I knew he’d ask for something ridiculous if he won…something degrading. However…I could see this working to my advantage. Humiliating him ought to get him off my back. Even if neither of us followed through, I could still walk away with my dignity. “You’re on-” I had barely started out when he barreled at me, knocking me on my back and straddling my chest. As he sat atop me, my frame seized up slightly. I didn’t feel capable of movement, though his cold-heat hands were not so much restraining my arms to the mat as caressing my biceps. “Told you that I liked being on top.” He smirked, his light blue eyes going dark, hungry. Feral. As he sat atop me, a feeling of intense violation rolled through me, like he was groping me intimately through the fabric of both the singlet and my underwear, though I could see both of his hands. His body rippled for a second, and as I felt waves of pleasure shoot through me, I could see a slight shift of his body. I felt cold chills, but his embrace was hot. His patronizing grin widened, and I watched from beneath him as he seemed to get more substantial. It had to just be my imagination, but I could swear that he actually GROWING… Though I claimed deceit from my eyes, his body seemed to stretch longer in his singlet, the fabric audibly stretching with the sound of the elastic being pulled too taut as he gained several inches in height. His arms, though barely flexing to support himself above me, flexed as his biceps mounded with strength, veins and mounds of muscle appearing where only small indents had existed previously. My eyes roamed his chest, his abs and pecs becoming more visible through the singlet with every passing moment. His four pack finally gaining enough size to qualify as a true 6 pack, tone and definition abound as the crevices ran deeper, his pecs becoming a decent shelf above them, ballooning with size and nearly ruining the straps keeping his singlet in place. As quickly as he’d pinned me and tapped me out for the ten second win, the exchange ended. “I’ll be back for the rest tonight.” He leaned down and whispered, his lips brushing against my ear. Patting my abs as he rose to a height that was just barely larger than before, but definitely larger, he walked off to the locker room, leaving me on the ground, sweaty, confused, and with a surprising amount of cum in my boxers. I lay there in a puddle of my own making and watched as he rose to a height just slightly taller than before, patting my abs before walking away, leaving me there, shell-shocked from our little encounter. His ass now perfectly filling out his singlet, my eyes lingered just a little too long as he turned one final time, smirked, and left the room. After a few moments I managed to peel myself off the floor and onto my feet, feeling very off-kilter, as if the ceiling had been raised. My own body felt foreign to me. I turned to faced one of the mirror walls along the sides of the room, and though I still looked impressive, subtle differences were apparent to me as my hands explored my previously immaculately chiseled body. Where I used to be ripped and defined seemed a little rounder, softer than before. Creases separating the tiles of mirror along the walls seemed more out of reach than before. I tried to shake the buzzing thoughts from my mind, trying to convince myself it was all in my head as I undressed and stepped into the showers after making sure John had gone. I started massaging the soap into my sweaty mass, thinking about how he seemed to just, expand on top of me. The vision of him made my length harden, and I couldn’t help but start to stroke myself under the steamy water. That same feeling of confusion took full focus once more when something felt a little different about my strokes. I looked down, and realized that my cock isn’t up to its usual eight and a quarter inches. “Fuck me, this can’t be happening…” The thought of being having lost size has me finishing all over the tiles beneath my feet, soap and cum washing down the drain as I finish rinsing off, stepping out of the shower and toweling myself dry. I look up at the clock by coach’s office, realizing I’m already thirty minutes late for my first class, shoving my clothes on, which aren’t near as snug as they’d been when I’d changed out of them not an hour earlier, and run across campus. I can barely concentrate for the next five hours, but by the time my last class ends I’ve finally convinced myself that I’d just let the little punk get in my head. I stop by one of the bathrooms in the cafeteria as I finish my dinner, flexing to my reflection, hyping myself up before walking back to the dorm Fuck yeah I think to myself, anyone would kill to have this body! I enter the dorm room confident, relieved to find the room empty. I peel my clothes off, exhausted after a long day, nothing but my boxer briefs on, closing my eyes as I fold my arms behind my head, drifting dreamlessly until I’m suddenly awoken by the door creaking open. I blink blearily up at the top bunk, the sheets around me soaked. I look at my wall-mounted alarm clock in the dim moon-light from the windows, looking at the clock: 11 at night. I hear the water running in the bathroom, and my heart starts pounding. John. I get up quickly, trying to make as little noise as possible while stumbling around trying to put on clothes that didn’t quite fit right anymore. Everything around me felt taller than I remembered them. My clothes looked slightly oversized where just this morning they had looked almost TOO snug. I look down, puzzled. I’m supposed to have an eight-pack, right? Where eight hard bricks of muscle had once occupied, six, less impressive bulges took their place. My pecs, also, didn’t quite obscure my view of them, as they usually did. I think back to today’s events, the feeling of dread I felt at being defeated by John in an area I should have creamed him in…and I can’t quite remember what happened after that. I remember John bragging to one of our teammates about his win against me in the lockers afterward, and then, my memories of the day skip to class. Brent, my lab partner caught me up on some of the new terms (I’d slacked on summer reading in favor of training, not my best decision, as I’d plateaued in my gains) and I’d tried my hardest to not fall asleep during the lecture. All day after the match I’d been exhausted and lethargic… “Hey bro.” John’s voice startled me out of my memories, and looking at him reminded me why I was trying to hurry out the door so quickly. John stood completely naked in the doorway, a wicked grin on his face, muscles slick with water droplets from his shower, hair combed back, and every carved muscle deeper than when I’d first encountered him. “Glad you didn’t bail on me.” He said, drying his hair and then tossing his towel to the ground. “We’re gonna have a lot of fun tonight.” My real memory swiftly returned to me, leaving me damn near breathless. He’d sat on me, pinning me to the mat. He’d grown. But something still seemed off. I’d been much bigger this afternoon. Now, I looked up at him now a couple inches taller and ripped beyond comprehension. It was hard to believe that in the course of a day, he’d outpaced me by such a wide margin. His abs were chiseled, his pecs jutted out in a hard shelf above them, and something I hadn’t quite noticed before, a small tattoo on his neck that looked like the outline of a diamond. It was stark against his now tanned skin, a marvel that I hadn’t noticed it before. His whole face had transformed into something more rugged. His blond hair and boy next door looks were giving way to something far darker, masculine, and powerful. His jawline was sharper, his blond hair darkening at the roots, and the stubbly beginning of a real man’s beard growing on what was once a baby-smooth face. His body hair seemed to have thickened also, the place between his pectorals sprouting a neat tuft that caught the water from his shower, a neat trail disappearing to meet his length, now even more massive soft than it had been earlier today. Six inches? Closer to seven now, and easily 9 inches hard. John knocked me out of my daydream with a clearing of his throat. “Well, you didn’t bail out on me. I believe our wager was winner’s pick for prize…” He looks at me with eyebrows raised and a smile that could get men thrice my size on their knees. “But-” I stuttered, trying to come up with the words to describe the reality of our present situation. “Doesn’t matter. A deal’s a deal when you’re playing a stranger’s game Bud. I learned that the hard way.” At his words, the lights flickered, the loud rumble of thunder resounding from outside, and sudden draft chilling the room. I tried to make myself move, but pure fear had me frozen to the floor. He walked up to me, his chin in my direct line of sight, thick veins protruding from his vascular neck, tracing into his arms and down his chest. He brings a hand to my waist, slipping it beneath the waistband, and grabs my right ass cheek, his other hand moving across my stomach, teasing my abs, running his thumbs across my pecs, before finally deciding where to start. His left hand grips my trap, squeezing down and applying as much force as necessary to get me groaning in pain. The worst part about the whole thing was not being able to struggle against it. My whole body had locked up, just like the wrestling match, my upper body strained as he squeezed down, until my will gave. I could feel everything slipping. My ass took up less of the space in his hand, finally making him adjust to the small of my back. His other hand, losing the ability to squeeze my trap as it disappeared into my shoulder, found purchase on my arm, squeezing my shoulder, moving down to caress my dwindling biceps as they too slipped out of my grasp. The sensation of falling, shorter and shorter, my eyes having to look farther up as I lost inches, and then feet of height to him. Knots had begun to curl my stomach as the theft robbed me of my core, each remaining brick from our last encounter now smoothing over, my pecs following shortly after. My legs that I’d poured so much effort into over the summer were half the size they’d been to begin with. And my cock, which had stuck with me thus far, dwindled, shrinking to 7, then 6, then 5, all the way until I was left with nothing but a nub. As I kept dwindling in height, I got closer and closer to his cock, which was now impossible to measure with just my eyes. It had to be at least a foot long now, and nearly as my old arms. His abs, as they absorbed my size, pushed farther outward, each mound standing out against the others. His pectorals engulfed some of my view of his face, my new stature completely beyond the capacity to see that far up his body without standing back. Looking up at him, he seemed to revel in my loss of power. His hungry eyes roved around each part of my body as it gave up its mass to feed his ascent to power. He made a show of testing out each muscle as it grew on him, jacking his cock as he looked on at me, like his personal slut. I felt the drain cease as my legs gave out, my newly minted twink form starved of almost all muscle tone. It almost hurt to breathe. As I looked over my body, even the air around me felt painful. But god, my fucking cock...it was about the only thing on me that hurt in a good way. A strange way. My balls couldn’t be larger than marbles, but they ached to blow one...more.... I moaned, convulsing, as my last, final jock load exploded out of me, blasting cum on both of us, pooling on my stomach and making a mess all the way up his body, even catching in his stubble. My final view as I passed out was John posing in victory; He flexed his new, massive biceps, veins running the length of his arm, his foot smooshing into the puddle of cum on my chest as he held me down on the floor, where I belonged. He smirked, leaning forward and licking a large splotch of my load off his bicep. “Much better.” Coach. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I had just been tidying up the office, getting ready to head off for the day, when what could only be the biggest troublemaker I’d ever had the displeasure of tutoring walked through my door, shutting it closed behind him. “So…it worked.” John folded his arms in front of me, raising an arm and demonstrating his newly minted gains. I clear my throat, looking up at him. “When I said you need to be serious about gaining, taking from other students was not what I had in mind. I paired you with him so you could mimic him, not use him.” He snorted, leaning up against the wall. “Some star pupil. Definitely no genius. He was so easy. Hell, I’m fairly sure he has the hots for me.” He waggles his brows. “I freed you from the rest of the rabble on that god forsaken rock so you could help me do my research, not make my students your food. Do you know how hard it’s been, writing off all my grant money to pay for all of this?” John gives me a look, his eyes going completely black before he shifts into his true form, a tan, dark haired twink of a demonic being now standing just below my height. His voice echoed weirdly, as if there were three different men speaking at once. “I am not ungrateful for your services rendered to me. I simply…want for a few more liberties. My existence has been barred to this one, singular place of existence. This “campus” is as far as my power reaches, for the moment, shrouded from the rest of the world. I crave more.” He saunters closer, his near nakedness in just a loincloth making me a little less than comfortable. “Stay back.” I command, pulling a white, opalescent rod from my pocket, earning me a glare. “You know I don’t partake of a man that will not have of me.” “I’d still feel better if you give me some distance. Especially after seeing what you did to Nick.” He chuckles, a darker, single deep rumble ringing out rather than his usual echo. “He’s but one king-turned-pawn in the grand scheme at work here. “Just… how badly will this affect him?” “He won’t remember much of what’s happened today. No one will ask questions while they’re in my domain. After all, my word is law.” We both hear the showers going, Nick finally having gotten off his ass to clean himself up. It was strange, knowing this’d be the last time I see the kid this size. “Well, I’m off to finish my meal.” I see the guise of ‘John’ re-emerge, muscles still as full as they had been a moment ago, his playful eyes the golden ambrosia of the Lex I’d freed, rather than the blue he’d worn today. “Catch you later big guy.” As he fades into the shadow, I put on my jacket and make myself scarce, locking the office and further horrors away behind me. It was far too late to have doubts. To be Continued...

Chapter 45 I’d felt so good on Sunday that I didn’t expect to be sore on Monday. I’d gotten used to a certain level of muscle soreness as background radiation in my life, but this was deeper and more thorough than anything I ever experienced in my life. In part because of the soreness, I still needed James’s help getting on my socks and shoes that morning, but since Charles had me down for yoga that morning before class, I was pretty sure I’d be stretched out soon enough. The pretzeled shapes Charles had me stretch into were ones I did not think were possible with my body. For instance, he wanted me to extend my head so far backward and leg so far behind me that they met in the middle. With my colossal ass, that seemed an unlikely proposition. James couldn’t even do it, but it was fun to watch him try. Charles, and his sugary encouragement, reminded me the goal wasn’t to master the positions in three weeks; it was to get as flexible as possible. I did feel much more limber after yoga. James thought he could squeeze in a quick blow job before my math class, but Charles must have known what we were up to because he followed us into the bathroom. “Is it 1:30 in the afternoon?” Charles asked when he saw us headed to the handicapped stall. “No,” James said. “And am I your unquestioned lord and master?” “Yes,” I said. “Then change and head off to calculus, you nutty bunny.” If people used to part way for me before, now they cut a huge swath around me. I used to feel like a shark swimming through the water; now I felt like an ocean liner cutting through the sea, parting the waves to either side of me. When I got to the classroom, I went to walk through the door as always, but the doorjamb stopped me. I’d walked into doorways before, a price of getting huge. So, I backed up and tried again. I bumped into the doorjamb again. This time, I stayed in the doorway and looked down to assess the problem. Both of my shoulders were hitting the frame. Both. At the same time. I was wider than the doorway. I backed up, turned sideways, and twisted my way through the door. Thankfully, I was the first person into the room, so there was no one there to be my witness. I took my seat at the back of the room, and if my ass had been too big for the chair before, now it was comically small against my mighty posterior. I contemplated taking the second chair for my own devices. No one sat there anyways, and now I was taking up three-quarters of a table designed for two people. But I wasn’t sure I could balance between the two chairs because of how thick my thighs were, so I didn’t risk it. I didn’t want to fall of my chair in the middle of class. The plastic storage bin still mostly worked for keeping my pecs out of the way, although now I had to pull it closer to me every now and again because my meaty chest kept butting it away from me. It was my biceps that were the real problem. Holding my arm at the slight angle I needed to take notes caused the mound to flex into full relief, which bumped into my pecs. As I wrote, I could feel my body fighting against itself for space, which made my cock get thicker in my pants. It wasn’t the exact chain reaction from before—the plastic storage bin mitigated it—but I was going to need to find a new workaround, and fast. When I went to walk out of the room, I walked into the doorjamb again. “Twist, then walk,” I reminded myself. Hearing the voice of Charles in my head, I didn’t deviate from the plan one jot. I diligently did my homework, stopping only for a mini-meal, until it was time for lunch. James assiduously ate everything on his plate, even though by the end I could tell he never wanted to eat again. “Why push yourself so hard?” I asked. “If I don’t eat all my vegetables, Charles won’t let me have dessert,” he answered. At 1:30, he practically tackled me, he felt so pent up for missing our usual morning blowjob. He had no room left inside him for my cock or my copious ejaculate, so he furiously fucked me to work off some of lunch. Then he and I had another workout, just as grueling as the day before had been. I felt swollen and raw at the end of it. I was so pumped that I didn’t want to put on my shirt for fear of ruining the sleeves. Finally, it was time for biochem, my class with Luke. As we walked to class, Luke got a little strut in his step. When I asked him about it, he said, “I thought walking next to you would make me feel small, but it’s making me feel like one of the big dogs. It’s intoxicating, buddy.” He wasn’t wrong. When we got to our class, I walked into the doorjamb again, and Luke let out a “Fuck yeah!” That afternoon was my first dance lesson. Charles had subcontracted that to Vanessa, and she had unrealistic goals for what I could do with this body. “Don’t worry your pretty face about it, Chris,” Charles said. “I had her develop three different routines. The first is a boring basic one in case of disaster. Then there’s the one we’re going to practice the most, with a little bit of funky flair and dazzling dancing. Then there’s the ambitious one.” “You’re going to make us learn three different dance routines?” James asked. Charles nodded and said, “You’re two smarty smarts. You’ve got room in your noggins for three different dance routines.” Vanessa then showed me all three routines. The ambitious one ended in a one-handed handspring. James just laughed when he saw that. They wanted my nearly 300-pound body doing a one-handed handspring. Charles was insane. But I gave it my all. And surrendered to my schedule. Class. Homework. Eating. Lifting. Posing. Fucking. Sleeping. Monday and Tuesday bled into Wednesday. Charles was right. This was going to be a hard three weeks. On Wednesday afternoon, Dave and Luke met up with James and me after we’d just cleaned up from our afternoon workout. I was about to robotically head to biochem, when Luke stopped me. “It’s the day before Thanksgiving. No afternoon classes.” I nearly wept. “My car’s outside,” Dave said. “I’ve already programmed the GPS, and I packed for both of you.” “That was really nice of you,” James said. “Charles demanded it. He said there wasn’t room for it on your schedule.” When we walked out of the athletic center, there was a giant luxury SUV waiting for us. “You own this?” I asked. “Oh, heavens no,” Dave said. “I lease it.” He pushed the button on his key fob so the doors unlocked. “Mother insisted.” I was extremely thankful Dave’s car was so big, because even with it as big as it was, James and I were cramped into the back seat. The seatbelt again fought to get past my pecs. “Do you need an extender?” Dave asked. “I have one in the glove compartment in case you’re just too manly for my seatbelts.” I clicked the seatbelt into place, and it slid in between the globes of my pecs. “Not yet,” I said. “But soon.” “Alrighty,” Dave said. “Off to James’s family Thanksgiving.” About a half hour into the two-and-a-half-hour drive, I got a face time from Charles, which I promptly answered. “Tell Davey-kins it’s time to pull over for yoga and a meal.” “You heard the man,” I told Dave. “There’s a scenic overlook in two miles, will that be soon enough?” “Super duper,” Charles said, and then hung up. At the scenic overlook, James and I did our yoga while Dave and Luke sat on the hood of Dave’s car and watched. “Why did you pick Charles for us?” I asked. “He’s…” “A tiny musclebound tyrant with the speech patterns of a kindergarten teacher?” Dave suggested. “Yes. Precisely,” James said. “Remember that guy I dated sophomore year that I was too embarrassed to introduce you to?” Luke turned to Dave excitedly. “Charles is Kitty Cat?” Dave nodded. “We all make mistakes in our youth.” I had forgotten all about Kitty Cat. James, bent in half trying to reach his foot, said, “Remind me which one was Kitty Cat. I used to zone out when you guys talked about your boyfriends.” “Kitty Cat was the one who gave Dave a new present every day, and each one was cat-themed,” I said while holding my Half Moon pose. “And they weren’t nice gifts either. Utterly tacky,” Dave said. “Cat ear muffs. Cat rainboots. Cat pajamas.” Luke could have kept listing, but he stopped. “I remember him now. If he was so embarrassing, why did you date him?” James asked. “I like it when a man bosses me around in the bedroom,” Dave said. “I take direction well,” he added. “And how,” Luke cheered. “How long did you date him?” James asked. “Four months,” the three of us said in unison. “You dated him for four months because he was good in bed?” “Not good,” Dave said. “Until Luke here, he was the best I ever had.” Luke beamed. “They only broke up because he tried to dress Dave,” I chirped in. “I draw the line at espadrilles,” Dave said. “If you hate him so much, why pick him for Chris’s trainer?” “The man wanted to control every aspect of my life. Where we went, what we ate, what we did, what I wore. Sounds like the perfect trainer to me.” Luke nodded. “I take it Davey-kins was his pet name for you?” James asked. “Yes, and he was the one who insisted I call him Kitty Cat. Why have a short, effective nickname when we can address each other with multisyllabic gobbledygook?” Dave was getting riled up. “Calm down, babe,” Luke said, rubbing his back. “See? ‘Babe.’ One syllable, practically a grunt. Shows endearment and affection.” Dave kissed Luke on the forehead. “Thank you for being the perfect boyfriend.” We finished our stretches and meal, and were back in the car. “You’re getting better at packing in the food,” Luke said to James. “I’m scared of Charles,” James said. “His eyes are shiny and dead, like a doll’s. Besides, eating is getting easier. I just have to work a little harder at the gym to make sure I don’t get a gut.” “That would be hard to do with the diet Charles has you on,” Luke commented. “I miss fries,” I said. “How can you think about food after all that Charles makes you eat?” James said. “And pizza,” I added. The rest of the drive passed pleasantly: talking, singing, reminiscing, and no calls from Charles. James’s family lived in a cul-de-sac, in one of those planned communities. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Dave said, pulling into the community, “we have entered suburbia. Keep your arms and legs inside the car until we have reached our destination.” “My dad bought the house when he was still trying to pass for straight,” James said. “But they made it homey,” he added. We could tell Doug and Henry’s house from down the street. There were statues, flowers, and hedges in the front yard, whereas every other house had a perfectly manicured monoculture of green. “Uncle Henry find lawns depressing,” James told us. There were also two bicycles in front of the house, and no car. “They have a car for long-distance trips or big runs to the grocery store, but they keep it in the garage. Uncle Henry prefers to bike to work, and Dad works out of the basement,” James clarified. If all of that weren’t enough to make the house stand out, it was a vivid, bright shade of blue in a sea of beige and white. “It’s Egyptian blue,” James said. “They got a fine for choosing a non-approved color.” “Worth every penny,” Dave said. “I like your dads already.” As I struggled with my seatbelt, Dave, Luke, and James got out of the car. As soon as their doors closed, Doug came running out of the house. “Jimmy!” he screamed, running up to his son. James hugged his father, picked him up, and spun him around. When James put his father down, Doug looked him up and down, just as he had at the cabin. “Did you get even bigger?” Doug asked. “Maybe a little,” James said. “It suits you,” Doug said. He faked a tear and said, “I guess you’re not my little boy anymore.” James smiled and, in a vaguely Southern accent said, “I done and grown. I’s sorry, pa.” Doug dismissed James’s joke with a chuckle, then turned to face Dave and Luke, “Let me guess.” He put his hand to his temple like he was trying to divine which was which with psychic powers. “This handsome devil,” he pointed to Dave, “must be Dave, and this hunky bloke,” he pointed to Luke, “must be Luke.” “Nice to meet you,” Luke said, putting out his hand. Doug stared at it with his usual confused look. “We’re huggers, Luke.” He then wrapped Luke in a bear hug. As Doug embraced Luke, Dave turned to James and said, “You make a lot more sense now.” Doug ended the hug and turned to Dave. With a resigned look in his face, Dave opened his arms and gave Doug a halfhearted embrace. Doug held Dave tightly. Then, to my surprise, Dave tightened his grip and held Doug close to his body. Doug softly said, “Somebody’s dad doesn’t hug him, huh?” Dave buried his face in Doug’s chest, and said, “Your dad is perfect, James.” Doug let Dave decide how long to let the hug go on, but it ended soon enough. I’d seen Dave smile a thousand different smiles, but I’d never seen him as happy as that hug made him. Looking around, Doug asked, “Jimmy, where’s boyfriend Chris?” I opened the car door and emerged. Doug’s eyes grew wide, and he said, “Henry, you need to get out here and see this.” Henry came out of the house, looking a little perturbed. “It’s impolite to greet visitors in the driveway,” he said, then he saw me. “Well, my my.” He came out of the house and joined us all in the driveway. “I thought that Charles fellow was exaggerating your nutritional demands, but it clearly all goes to its purpose. Hello, Chris.” “Henry,” I said. “Where’s my hug?” Doug whimpered. I took Doug in one arm, Henry in the other, and lifted them both into the biggest bear hug of their lives. When I put them down, Henry straightened his glasses and Doug enthusiastically slapped my arm. “Thank you for that, boyfriend Chris.” “Before I officially welcome you all to our house, I want to say how delighted I am you chose to have Thanksgiving with us,” Henry announced. “However, as a father, I have to take this moment to say you should call your parents at some point this weekend. They miss you. Now, with that unpleasantness over, shall we go inside?” When he got to Dave he said, “You’re quite fashionable. You must be Dave,” he linked arms with Dave. “I’m thinking of changing my hair from white to something new. Tell me, what colors are popular among your theater friends?” Dave turned to James. “I love your parents,” then, without missing a beat, turned back to Henry and said, “That depends on what type of look you’re going for.” The two walked into the house discussing hair color and style. Doug turned to Luke and said, “You look like you give excellent piggy-back rides.” “Is that…?” Luke started. “Get your mind out of the gutter, young man. No double entendres here.” “Well, in either sense you meant, I do.” “Good. So, let’s have the big guys bring in the luggage,” Doug hopped on Luke’s back and shouted “H’yah!” Luke, ever the goofball, trotted inside like a horse. “I guess we’re getting the bags,” I said to James. There were only four small bags. I could easily carry them by myself. “There’s something I’ve always wanted to do first,” James said. He threw his arms around my neck and kissed me. “I love you too,” I said. “But why the kiss?” “I’ve never been out at home. Now I am.” “In that case,” I said, and swept him off his feet. Holding James like a newlywed bride, I squatted to pick up the four bags with my right hand, and carried him inside.

Inspired a quick doodle