Leaderboard

Can't believe it's taken me over a year to write this. But here's the next chapter. Chapter 8 I stood alone in the sitting room. Sir had excused himself to answer the door. I was alone, wearing only a cum soaked electric blue Andrew Christian jock strap. I could hear voices through the closed door, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Suddenly I felt exposed. Other than the first time I came here, I had always felt “dressed for sex” whenever I was around Sir. He was complimentary, he looked at me in a way that made me feel like he was evaluating and valuing my body, in the same way I was assessing his. There aren’t many tall, hugely muscled, men that can do that. Normally they would only be interested in the worship. Sir certainly got off on the worship, but he appeared to get off on my reactions more than my admiration. He also always seemed to take pleasure in my body. Perhaps he enjoyed our size difference as much as I did. I felt like I was in the presence of a giant. I could hardly imagine what it must feel like being the giant! Sir saw something in me that no one else had. And it has awoken a spark of self confidence that I’ve never explored before. Being small and skinny I’ve always looked to hide away. But I wouldn’t. Not this time. Whilst I stood there, alone, I spread my feet shoulder width apart, straightened my back, lifted my chin and clasped my hands behind my back. I would stand as if I was waiting, rather than hiding. A few moments later the door opened and Sir stepped in. He grinned as his eyes roved over my body. I saw him relax, he seemed to approve of my confidence. “Wee Jock, a… friend of mine has stopped by. We were suppose to meet earlier, but he’s turned up now. I don’t like springing this on you, but I’ve got a feeling you would enjoy it if he stayed.” I knew it was daft to believe that I was the only one of Sir’s “friends”, we weren’t dating, this wasn’t a relationship, we haven’t even kissed (not on the mouth anyway). But it was still jarring to think that there was another muscle hungry twink just on the other side of the door. Has he told him that he’s the best in town too? “It’s ok, I don’t ever want you to do something you don’t want to do. I enjoy your enthusiasm far too much.” I have a very expressive face, I would make an awful poker player. Sir must have interpretation my reaction as panic at his proposal. He put a hand on each shoulder and said “I’ll go see him out.” As he walked towards the door my mind suddenly focused to a sharp point. I ran around the back of the couch and reached the door before him. I would see who this other muscle worshiper was. I knew that whatever I imagined would never be as bad as what I saw. And I could decide what to do once I was face to face with him. As I started pulling open the door I turned to look at Sir, who had paused, mouth agape in surprise. I gave him a little wink as I squared my shoulders and entered the hall. In front of me was a ginger giant in a suit. A familiar ginger giant. “Wee Jock?” Red said whilst raising a ginger eyebrow. His glanced raised over my head to Sir behind me. “When you said you had something special planned for after the deal, I thought you were talking about a lass… not that I… I mean…” Red blushed again, maybe I wouldn’t make the worst poker player. “Calm yourself, Red. I find lads better at handling men like me, and Wee Jock here,” Sir stepped behind me and placed a hand on each of my shoulders, “he’s tougher than he looks.” I daren’t look around. I was just looking at Red. Where Sir’s suit wrapped and framed his impressive build; Red’s muscular body filled his suit to its limits. The sleeves bulged and swelled with his massive biceps. His quads looked like they were going to burst through the grey material, the central creases pulled tight until below his knees. The lapels of his double buttoned jacket gaped slightly, showing Red’s compromise between having enough room to fit his broad back, but not having a tent around his waist, The effect overall effect was impressive and imposing, but just not as sleek as Sir’s obviously bespoke suit. I stood speechless, unable to piece together what was going on. Had Sir planned on introducing his mate to his muscle hungry booty call? Was it a genuine mistake and Sir decided to try his luck? Red smirked, “so this is why you’ve been in a better mood recently?” “Aye.” Sir replied from behind and above me, I could hear in his deep voice that he was smiling too. “Wee Jock is full of enthusiasm, and skill. And as for stamina… this wee guy continues to surprise me.” I could feel myself blush at Sir’s praise and stood straighter. “Surely… I mean, no disrespect Wee Jock, but… um… I’ve seen this guy in the shower, there’s no way you could…” his glance went over my head to Sir and Red’s jaw hung a gasp. “Full of surprises, this one.” Sir stated. Red’s expression changed from one of shock to an impressed and respectful nod. He made a couple of fall starts to speak, as if trying to pick the right phrase. “… I don’t want to intrude, but… well, you know I’ve hinted at you joining me and my lass before, I’d kinda like to see you in action…” He raised an eyebrow, leaving the statement as a question. So other than the shower, Sir and Red hadn’t played around before. But Red had obviously been thinking about it, and Sir had suggested I might enjoy it if he stayed… “What do you think Wee Jock?” Sir groped my shoulders, his left hand slipping around my chest to play with my right nipple as his right hand descended down my back, and he stage whispered in my ear. “Want to let Red here watch as you worship my body and drive me closer and closer to the edge with that amazing mouth and your hot-as-fuck arse?” His right hand was groping my arse now. Red looked hopeful and a little aroused. “No.” Red was visibly disappointed and looked at Sir, who stood up and started ushering Red towards the door. “Sorry mate, but I’m not doing anything to upset this guy. Best fuck I’ve ever had, and man, does this wee guy like the muscles!” He opened the door for Red, who looked a bit dejected. “No, no, I understand, but you can’t blame a lad for trying. Looks like you two are going to have a wild fucking night ahead of you.” “No, he can’t watch.” I said calmly from the middle of the hall. “But if he proves himself, he can join in.” The two behemoths turned slowly to face me. Red a little confused; Sir close to laughing. “And how would he prove himself to you, Wee Jock?” Sir asked, obviously pleased with me. “He can show me he’s man enough to wear a suit in this house. He obviously likes to fill it, now he should show me he can push that suit to its limits.” I had addressed Sir, but then turned to look at Red. Sir still stood with the front door open, handle in his hand. “The lad wants a show Red. You in or out?” Red took two giant strides towards me, did a slight hop, planting his right leg, and twisted himself in to an obviously well rehearsed body building pose, double bicep and looked straight down at me, face screwed up with the effort of the pose. The shoulders of his grey suit bunched in to points, the seems never suppose to bend that way. The fabric around his biceps pulled so tight that little stress lines started appearing around their circumference. I heard the door close and Sir stepped round to join me in watching the show. Red brought his arms down, whilst changing his stance so that his left leg was stepping out in of don’t of him. He unbuttoned his jacket and swept the left portion away, highlighting his left thigh. As he made the dramatic gesture with his hand, he tensed his quads, revealing a solid thigh, the individual muscle heads visible through the trouser material. I reached out and ran my finger down the deepest groove. Feeling the two dense muscle heads on either side of my finger, I felt my cock stir in my jock. Red moaned and seemed a little caught off guard that the noise had come from his own mouth. He quickly grabbed his lapels and removed his jacket as he spun around, throwing the jacket on the same chair Sir had draped his early. He wore a very fitted white shirt, gripping to every undulation of his body. He put his hands on his hips and performed an impressively wide lat spread. Right leg back, arse clenched so tightly I’m not even sure Sir would be able to get his fingers in between those cheeks. Red gave a little grunt as he heard the pose. He turned to face me once more, repeating the double bicep, this time looking at his own right arm, and then bringing his left hand over to feel himself. This sight of this giant worshiping his own body, whilst dressed in shirt, tie and suit trousers, was enough to bring my cock to full erection, fresh fluid mixing with my previous ejaculation. Red looked directly in my eyes, brought his left hand back up to double bicep pose before growling and throwing down in to a most muscular that was more impressive than it had any right to be, considering he was fully clothed. I couldn’t stop myself from reaching forward and feeling his biceps, past the slim black tie, and groping his tensed pecs through the rich white cotton. After a few seconds Red stood again, shaking his limbs slightly. “Man enough for you?” He smirked a bit, red in the face from the effort, truly taking after his name. In response I went forward, and placed my hands on his chest. I ran my hands down over his massive pecs and the ridges of his six pack, which he tensed as my hands crossed them. I knelt in front of him, my hands now groping up and down his quads, which he tensed and relaxed in slow pulses. My left hand migrated towards his crotch, and I was pleased to feel firm resistance. My right hand started undoing his fly, I was met with white cotton. For some reason I had assumed he would be free balling, as Sir has been whenever we meet. I had forgotten this was not a planned meeting. I explored inside his trousers. Trunks: difficult to pull aside. I tried to lower the waist band, but the trousers were too tight. Red was making some grunting and groaning noises, as well as a few uncomfortable noises as I tried to free his painfully hard, and obviously thick cock. His breathing was getting faster and as I looked up, I could see he had gone red in the face again. “Hold on, hold on.” He gasped. He desperately undid his belt and buttons of his trousers. With them being so tight he had to almost roll them down to mid thigh before he stood up looking relieved and proud of himself. He put both hands on the back of my head and brought me closer to his still enclosed rod. I nuzzled and mouthed his shaft, head and balls. He was leaking precum almost as much as I do. I reached up to pull down his white trunks, gripping the elastic at each hip and leaning in, so that as I pulled down, his cock was trapped by the elastic and bounced back to slap me in the face. Red made a satisfied noise. I looked up to see him looking down at me, a confident, satisfied grin on his face. I looked back at his dick. It wasn’t small, but I had just been playing with Sir’s not twenty minutes beforehand - there was no way he could compare. He was about six and a half inches, slightly bigger than average. He did however have pretty large balls, each about the size of a lime, hanging low. I reached up to play with them with my right hand, my left hand now holding on to his smooth, muscular arse. “Well, I guess you’re bigger than average in more ways than one.” I said before giving the underside of his shaft a long, controlled lick. If Red had seen Sir in the shower soft, he would know that he already wasn’t measuring up. But I wanted to say something complimentary, since I had been toying with him earlier. Red’s flush turned more to a blush. “I guess the big man’s got me beaten in the cock department, as well as muscle mass?” We both glanced at Sir to find him leaning against the sideboard, stroking his cock head, about a third of the way down his left leg. He grinned. “Looks like enough to keep anyone happy.” He gave Red a nod. “Never had any complaints… well that’s not true… The lasses keep telling me to go slow.” The lasses? Red certainly seemed comfortable with a guy licking his shaft for a straight man. I gripped his shaft and started slurping his head like an ice cream. “Wee Jock here is the first time in a long time I’ve been able to go wild.” I grinned hearing Sir’s comliments. “When was the last time you were deep throated?” Sir asked. “Never happens. A few girls have tried, but it’s never been any good, I’m happy with a normal BJ. But fucking hell, this is amazing.” Red gave me a pat on the shoulder, as if I had just finished some reps at the gym with excellent form. The pair were quite happy having this conversation over my head, as if I were shining his shoes, not sucking him off. A part of me felt a little, I don’t know, ignored? Objectified? But a bigger part of me was finding it a turn on. “Ha! That’s what I thought too. Just wait, you’ll see what you’ve been missing.” Sir had stood up and was now standing beside Red, his hand stroking the back of my head as I slurped and sucked on Reds arrow-like head. “Wee Jock is going to give you the best head you’ve ever had!” Yup, definitely finding this sexy! I had to adjust my erection. I started flicking my tongue across the tip. Red rolled his head back and groaned. “It gets better?” He asked in disbelief. Sir leaned in and in another stage whisper said “just you wait.” He stepped back, moved the chair and sat about two feet from us. His left elbow resting on the chair back, he sat slightly askew, legs wide, rubbing the obvious outline of his erection down his left trouser leg. Any hope of avoiding stains was abandoned, as a wet spot appeared. I set to work lathering up shaft with my tongue and sucking on his head. So far only the head had entered my mouth. Red was obviously enjoying himself. He was groaning, rolling his head back, and thrusting his hips forward, mashing his meat in to my face. He kept grabbing my head and trying to push my head back on to him whenever I moved away. Normally with Sir I love when he takes control, but there was something about being here with Red, in Sirs presence: I didn’t want to give control to Red just yet. And my glances at Sir seemed to confirm that he was enjoying me teasing him. It must have been quite a sight: me naked but an electric blue jockstrap, servicing his gym buddy’s cock; Red standing with his suit trousers half way down his enormous quads, dress shirt, black tie, and pale white arse exposed. When I knew that I had covered his shaft in a mixture of my spit and his precum, I took a forceful grab of Red’s sac, pulling his nuts down just enough to cause a bit of a shock and take control. “Grab his hands.” I instructed Sir. Within three seconds, Sir was standing behind Red, holding both hands behind his lower back. Red was obviously confused and tried to struggle a little, but between Sir’s grip on his hands, and my grip on his balls, he wasn’t going anywhere. “Stand still.” I ordered. I didn’t shout, I kept my voice calm and level. When he stopped squirming I let go of his balls and put a hand on both hips. I lowered my mouth on to his pulsing tip, dripping with precum. My lips parted gently as the arrow head flare of his cut cock began to fill my mouth. I tensed the pressure on my lips as I slowly descended. When the flare of his corona popped past my lips Red made an involuntary gasp and his knees momentarily buckled beneath his. If it weren’t for Sir holding his hands I think he would have collapsed to the ground. But he quickly recovered and stood up, thrusting his hips forward as he did. I knew this was coming, so pulled my head back at the same time. This was not my first rodeo. Sir tightened his grip again, “manners” he reminded him. After a few seconds pause, I continued my achingly slow descent down his shaft. Red was obviously use to being in charge. He kept moaning, and trying to thrust forwards, but I kept moving my head backwards with him. I even caught Sir having a little laugh at Red’s pleading moans. When I was about five inches on to his shaft I paused. I felt Red tense, fighting against the urge to move. I extended my tongue, the tip of it touching his balls. He actually whimpered, I looked up to see his red face dripping with sweat looking down at me over his enormous pecs. Maintaining eye contact I dove down the last inch and a half and buried my nose in his pubes. The head of Red’s cock was pushing up against the back of my throat. Red groaned and his legs buckled again. Sir was ready for it, half supporting his weight. I tightened my lips and pulled off of his engorged cock, before opening my mouth wide, sticking my tongue out flat and broad, and plunging back down the full length over and over again whilst moaning. “Oh God. Oh God!” Red was getting really wound up now. Half way down his cock I paused, thrusting my tongue back and forth. Red was now standing on his toes, wrists still held behind his back by Sir. I reached around and tapped Sir’s wrists. He let go of Red, who stumbled a bit, but I kept my mouth half way down his dick. Over the last ten minutes Sir and I had been training him not to thrust. And now he was standing there tense and grunting, similar to when he was flexing for me earlier, but this time just preventing movement rather than showing off. With my mouth wrapped around the first half of his twitching cock, I stayed still. So did Red. Sir stepped round and stood behind me. I looked up; Red’s black tie cascading over his pectoral cliff, somewhat obstructing my view. He was looking down at me, face red and straining to keep control. He looked at Sir as he stepped behind me. I felt Sir’s thighs against my back, his thick, hard cock, still within his trousers, pressing against the left side of my neck. He placed his right hand on the top of my head, slightly gripping my hair. His left hand he used to grope Red’s chest. When his finger tips found his nipple, Sir rubbed it gently and then slowly twisted it. Red grunted uncontrollably, and thrust his hips forward. Burying his wide cock in my mouth, right up to the hilt. The two giants stood over my, their hard bodies pressed against each other. Sir’s crotch pushing up against the back of my head, Red’s cock filling my mouth, his red pubes against my nose. I heard Sir’s deep voice “go wild, mate!” Hearing Sir instructing Red to use me like that made me painfully hard. I knew I would only have to stroke myself a few times to come for the second time that evening. “Wild” was the right word. Red grabbed both sides of my head so forcefully that Sir barely had time to let go. He started shouting as if charging in to battle, as he pounded in to my face over and over. Sir stepped away but I was unable to tell where to, as I couldn’t move my head, all I could comprehend was the powerful skull fucking I was receiving. I found myself beginning to lean back as Red’s thrusts were driving us in that direction. It was wild. It was raw. It was animalistic. Red’s long battle cry paused whilst he took a breath, his thrusts pausing as well, so he could slam in to me harder, still holding on to either side of my head. Suddenly Red withdrew and started pumping his cock himself. I stayed on my knees, tilted my head back and stuck out my tongue, ready to receive his donation. Seconds later Sir was by his side, his own mammoth cock in his hand, aimed for my face. The sight of these two muscular giants jerking off in their suits, massive cocks aimed at my face tipped me over the edge. I came hard, yet again soaking my blue jock. I juddered and groaned, my face twisting with the effort to keep my tongue out to accept the cum of the men before me. I didn’t have to wait long Red roared as volley after volley of cum hit my face. Closely followed by Sir’s second load of the evening. My face and hair were covered, but I leant up again and gently sucked the cocks clean of the two men before me. I looked up to see Sir had his arm around Red’s back, Red in turn had his arm across Sir’s shoulders. Two mates enjoying a blow job together. Fuck this is hot. “What do you think Wee Jock, is he man enough to stay?” Sir asked with a cheeky smirk on his face.” “I don’t know, that blow job seems to have taken a lot out of him. Think he’s ready for the main event?” I answered as I stood up. Sir chuckled a bit, patting his mate on the back. Red seemed a little confused looked back and forth between the pair of us “there’s more?”

Chapter Four Normally, it would be unusual for me to work out with Cris. It wasn't because my attraction to him made either of us uncomfortable, although there was a trend of me experiencing some discomfort when I saw his shirt clinging to his sweat-soaked body. Some people looked fatigued or haggard when they were getting a particularly good workout. Cris just looked more enthusiastic with each rep, no matter how hard it had been. No, the first reason I didn't usually work out with Cris is because I always walked away feeling like I knew nothing about the gym. He could be a bit insensitive, tactless, patronizing. The few times I had worked out with him, I found it easiest to just copy what he did, but with smaller weights. That way he wouldn't scoff at my choice of muscle groups to work out together or interrupt his own workout to correct me. It had been months since the last time we had worked out together, and I had improved my form. I knew a bit more about which muscle groups to work out together. And most importantly, I had put on a significant amount of muscle - and lost a good amount of fat - since then. I wasn't much concerned that I would leave here having made a fool of myself. The other main reason I didn't like working out with Cris was that I had a habit of following his line of sight to the other guys in the gym. He would check them out, and for the briefest of moments a lustful expression would flit across his face. Instantly I could tell he was fantasizing about squeezing, kissing those biceps. Raking his fingers across those rippling back muscles while he inched his cock into that guy's thick, muscled ass. Being held down and dominated by the 6'2" stack of muscle with the blond hair Cris liked to privately refer to as "Thor". I wasn't quite as concerned about this either - between accidentally using this voodoo serum to take muscle from Cris and Arturo and my own regular workouts, I had gotten as far down as 185 and started adding more muscle to my frame. Cris was about to learn the hard way that there was a new man in front of him, not the doughy pal he was accustomed to. And, to be fair, my drunken confidence and the effects of Freddie's serum had an effect. When we arrived at the gym, I told Cris I needed to go change and proceeded to the locker room. It was empty when I came in. I checked out a temporary locker and began stripping out of my work clothes. I carefully hung my dress shirt and pants on the hooks in the locker, then placed my dress shoes at the bottom with my socks inside. I had just pulled off my boxers when I heard the door creak open. I turned partly, showing myself in profile to whoever was at the door. I was hoping it'd be Cris - I knew seeing me like this would make him gasp a bit. There was a slight gasp, but the man at the door wasn't Cris. It was "Thor". He was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt that clung to every curve in his heavily muscled frame. He smiled and even blushed a bit as he saw me. "Sorry," he said, letting the door close behind him. "Didn't mean to give everyone out there a show." I chuckled. "I doubt they saw much. And if anyone was looking, I doubt they saw anything they didn't want to see." He laughed at that too. "You got that right." He chose a locker near mine and pulled his shirt off in a single motion. I stood there, naked, and watched. His pecs were huge and had a light dusting of dark hair over them. His abs were hairless except for a happy trail that led from his belly button down to the waistband of his jeans. He saw me looking and a devious grin grew on his face. "You gonna stand there and watch or are you getting dressed?" He gestured at the clothes hanging in my locker. "Actually," I said, pulling my jockstrap out of my bag, "I just got here." I turned away from him as I pulled it on, allowing him the view of my ass between those white straps. When I turned back to look, he had done no more than undo his belt and unbutton his pants while watching me. He gave an appreciative nod. "Cool, so I'll see more of you out there." He unzipped his jeans and let them drop, then stepped out of them and bent over to pick them and toss them in his locker. "I think you already saw all there is to see of me," I quipped at him. I pulled on my gym shorts. My semi, tucked into the pouch of the jock, made a still-visible bulge. He chuckled and said, "Yeah, just about." With that he pulled off his boxer briefs. I blinked in surprise as his cock and balls swung freely. His dick was much larger than I'd have guessed from the bulge, and his balls were proportionally huge and hung low beneath his heavy meat. He gripped it at the base and gave it a quick tug. I tore my eyes away from it to pull on the tank top I'd brought with me. I pulled on my socks and shoes as he began slowly rifling through his bag for his own jock. He turned away from me and bent over to pull it on. The crack of his ass was shaved hairless, his hole puckering a bit as he stepped into the jock bent over. I gulped and hoped my erection would go down some before I left the locker room. Dressed to go, I fumbled with my locker as "Thor" quickly pulled on his shorts, shirt, socks, and shoes. Safely flaccid again, I led the way to the door. As we stepped out into the gym, "Thor" reached out to shake my hand. " "I'm Danny, by the way," he said. "I'm Mark," I replied. "Nice to meet you." My eyes slid past Danny as we went our separate ways. Cris had his eyes locked on me. I watched as his expression changed from lust, to shock at being caught, to recognition as he realized it was me, to shock again. I made my way over to him and did a little flex while spinning slowly. "You like?" I gestured to the shirt, and Cris took the out gratefully. "Yeah, your gym style is way better than last time we worked out together. Was that, uh," he licked his lips, "was that Thor you were chatting with?" "Yeah, we met in the locker room. His name is Danny." I moved toward the rack of dumbbells nearest Cris and began looking them over. "What are you starting with?" I asked. Cris raised a hand to rub the back of his head. "Uh, the forty-fives. Overhead press." He took them and got into position in front of the mirrored wall to watch his form and the other men in the gym. I took up position next to him with the 50-pound dumbbells. He looked shocked that I chose more weight than he was doing. It was more than shock, though - for the briefest moment, he looked turned on. Every exercise, when Cris went for his weights, I went for the next heaviest ones. When we used the barbell for squats, deadlifts, and bench press, I spotted him first and added another weight to each side after. I noticed while bench pressing that he was starting to pitch a tent in his shorts from watching me, a few inches from my head. I tried not to imagine racking the weight to pull out his cock; otherwise I might actually suck him off in full view of the gym. Admiring me while I pumped iron was a sexual experience for him: and that's when it hit me: if he got sexual pleasure from this, was it enough to trigger the serum's effects? I felt muscles burning all over my body, but I wasn't sure if it was because of the serum or my own exertion. I decided not to worry about it and let things play out. Play out they did, and I got my answer in short order. I felt huge by the end of my set, and no more tired. And Cris, despite looking no more fatigued than I did, was clearly slowing down. After another half hour, he was shaking and approaching muscle failure. He looked less small than he had after fucking me, but still smaller than he normally did. My shirt was tighter than I remembered around my neck. My pecs stretched the fabric between them. The only place the shirt seemed less tight was around my midsection. I decided to check myself out in the mirror when I got back to the locker room. "All right," Cris said after swallowing a few mouthfuls of water, "time for cardio." "Actually," I said, "I did my cardio this morning. Three mile run. Nineteen and a half minutes." "Oh," he responded. "Well, I'll get my run in while you..." "I'll get a shower," I told him. "You normally shower at home anyways, right?" "Yeah," he answered. "Let's do that and meet back at my car in thirty." I headed to the locker room and pulled off my shirt as soon as the door closed behind me. I admired the V that pointed from my abdomen to my crotch. I counted visible abdominal muscles, touching each one to ensure I didn't double-count. Eight. Three weeks ago I had a gut. Now I had an eight-pack. I took out my phone for a quick seflie, then dropped my shorts for another. Lastly I took off my jockstrap. My cock looked bigger soft than I ever remembered seeing it. Normally, depending on the temperature, it was about three, three-and-a-half inches soft and about six-and-a-half hard. It looked almost five inches soft now. I wrapped my hand around it, the pinky lying against my pubis. Soft, my cock poked out another inch from my hand. "Huh," I said aloud, wondering whether it would be any bigger hard. I decided not to find out here, though. I left my clothes on the floor in front of my locker, pulling out flip flops to wear in the shower before closing and locking my locker back up with my phone inside. I went to the showers, grabbing a towel from a stack of neatly folded, fluffy, white towels on a nearby shelf. I hung it up and turned the water on, adjusting the knob so that the water was slightly cooler than my elevated body temperature. It was soothingly cool when I stepped under the shower head and rinsed away the sweat from my body. "Oh, hi Mark," a voice called from the entrance to the showers. I chubbed up slightly, then brushed water from my eyes so I could see the exquisitely chiseled Danny taking a shower next to mine. "Danny," I replied, "Pleasure seeing you again." I was looking at his cock when I said it. "Where are you headed after this?" he asked me innocently, turning away to expose his entire body to the shower water. "I carpooled with my buddy," I began. "The bald one?" he interjected. I nodded in response. "He's pretty hot," Danny continued. "How long you been together?" "Oh, we're not..." I said, conscious that my face was turning red. "I mean, he isn't... I wasn't..." Danny laughed. "No need to explain, man. You clearly have the hots for each other, is all. I didn't want to intrude if you were spoken for already." I took a breath and responded evenly, "I'm not spoken for yet." Danny smiled and turned back to me, his cock more than halfway hard and pointing straight ahead of him. "I'd love to speak for you for tonight then, at least," he said. When I met Chris outside, I asked him to take me to my car. Since I had gotten to his place, I was pretty sure I'd sobered up enough to drive. "Sure," he said. When we were driving to my car, he asked, "You coming back over after?" I didn't want to tell him I was hooking up with "Thor", so I nodded. "Sure, we can watch some TV, hang out a bit," I said. "Cool," he said. "I'll probably need you to work this kink out of my neck," he said, rubbing the offending area. "That is, if it's okay with you." He didn't normally ask me, just took it for granted that I'd be willing to massage him. I appreciated this change. "Yeah, I have some errands to run but I'll come back over after." When we got to my car, I leaned over and gave him a one-armed hug before hopping out. "See ya later," I called to him. He waved goodbye. From there, I drove to the address Danny had texted me after our shower. It wasn't a long drive, so before I knew it I was parked in his driveway. I strode up to the door to ring the doorbell, but he answered before I could. "Heard your car come up," he said. He was wearing sweatpants - nothing but sweatpants. I pushed my way inside and took charge, worshiping at the nipple of his left pectoral before kissing my way between the two bulging slabs of muscle to his right. He swung the door gently shut and slowly moved back to the beige faux leather couch while I followed, still attached to him via the mouth. I squeezed at his biceps. He flexed them as I did so. I knew I probably couldn't close both of my hands around one of them. I slowly sunk to my knees, lips and tongue scrabbling over the ridges of his abs, brushing over the smooth hairs of his happy trail. He undid the knot at his waistband and the loose sweats fell to the floor. I immediately took him into my mouth, tasting a bead of precum and smelling the clean scent of soap. I got about eight inches down before my throat wouldn't accommodate him anymore. Unwilling to accept that, I pushed him into a seated position. He leaned back on the couch, almost reclined. I lied down next to him and continued attempting to swallow his entire length from the new angle. Here I was able to get my lips around the base of his cock, and despite the fact that I couldn't breathe, I darted my tongue out to lick his balls while I held myself in position. The longer I stayed there, bobbing my head to increase the sensation, the louder his moans got. Far too soon, I was forced to choose air over his dick, and I slid off, saliva mixed with precum leaking from my mouth. I took a few deep breaths and went in for more, groping his chest, his arms, his legs as it occurred to me that I wanted more from him than just his cock. Danny wrestled my pants down. He reached a hand down and held it next to his crotch, palm up. I slid up to give him the lubrication he was looking for, and allowed the mixture of saliva and pre-ejaculate to coat his palm. He made sure his fingers were covered in it. I dove back down on him as he began to finger my ass. I could barely feel the penetration as he went in with his index finger over the burn of my body adjusting to match his godly form. I had thought of myself as looking divine before. I couldn't even imagine what I'd look like after this. Within a few more minutes, he had three fingers in me and was reaching for his pants with the other hand. He pulled out a packet of condoms and a small bottle of lube. I took the condoms from him and tore one off before ripping the packaging open with my teeth. He lubed up his hand and continued fingering me with three fingers. (I could feel that burn now.) I deepthroated Danny's cock one last time before I unrolled the condom onto him. It looked obscenely tight on his throbbing meat. I could see little rivulets of precum beginning to form inside it. Then I turned around on the couch and felt him line up. The best thing I could say about it is that he went slow, perfectly aware that his huge cock could tear me apart. After he made it about six inches in, he was filling me up so much that my prostate was getting constant pressure. I was jerking off instinctively, finding my pleasure despite the pain. I could feel myself getting bigger as he bottomed out inside me. I was on fire. I laid my head on the armrest of the couch and took my weight off the arm I had pressed down into the cushions. I put the hand I was jerking off with at the base of my dick and closed my right around it as well. With both hands, one on top of the other, there was still at least an inch and a half of dick uncovered. I struggled to do the math as Danny began pounding faster and harder. Nine? Nine and a half? Surely not ten. I arched my back and pressed back further into Danny. It hurt like a bitch but I wanted all of him, wanted everything I could take from him. I knew I was already in the best shape of my life, already in the best shape of any of my friends. After this, I would be bigger than Arturo, bigger than Cris, bigger than "Thor". Danny felt like he wasn't filling me up as much now - but he was still well beyond the point of hitting my prostate. I resumed stroking myself, slowly but firmly. Long, deliberate strokes. Danny whispered in my ear, "turn over. I wanna fuck the cum out of you and watch you bust. He pulled out slowly as I did so, and applied more lube before sliding back into me. I looked up into his eyes. He had a lustful look there that reminded me of Cris, and the way I had caught Cris looking at me in the gym. It was all I had wanted - my inspiration for getting back into shape. But I was here instead of with Cris when I knew he finally wanted me. I focused on those memories: Cris's lustful gaze lingering on me at the gym. His bulge growing next to my face as I benched 250 for the first time - and managed to do ten reps, to boot. The sight of his dick leaping to attention when he had seen me coming out of his bathroom naked the night I massaged him. With that, I passed the point of no return. I began stroking faster, more furiously, imagining it was Cris inside me now. Danny was pounding me so hard my eyes were rolling, so it was easy to pretend the blurry figure on top of me had a shaved head instead of closely-cropped blond hair. I came as he began pulling out of me, and his head relieved the pressure on my prostate and then hit it again. One shot went right over my head. The next landed partly in my open mouth as I called out in pleasure. I was bucking my hips, and impaling myself further on Danny, who slid all the way back in before pulling out again and ripping off the condom. "It'll break if I cum inside it," he explained. "Just get the fuck up here and cum in my mouth," I answered. His load was huge enough to put mine to shame. He held his cock steady while I nursed the head than squeezed and stroked his balls with one hand. My other was exploring his chest again. taking what I still could in the aftermath of his orgasm. I swallowed his thick load, then milked a few more large droplets of semen out of him, to swallow those as well. "Let's get a quick shower," he suggested. I nodded and he led the way to a bathroom with an ample standing shower. I got in and started the water running. It was cold at first but I was running hot - and it felt amazing on my skin. I rinsed the cum and lube off of my body while Danny still waited for the water to heat up to his liking. I looked at him critically. He was as deflated as his softened dick. He didn't even look like he was five inches taller than me anymore - at a guess, I'd say he looked to be about 6 feet tall even instead of the 6'2" I knew him to be. As I watched his movements, though, he didn't seem to be confused about being shorter than usual - and then I realized that he was still 6'2". I had just gotten two inches taller. He entered the shower when it was finally warm enough and all but collapsed against the wall, huffing and assuring me that the sex had been exemplary. "Thanks, I had a lot of fun too." I picked a few more chunks of cum out of my chest hair, a task that was much easier now that the water was hot. "I gotta hurry though, I have to go. Dinner plans." "It's like... ten at night," Danny said. "On a Tuesday." I hadn't realized how much time had passed. I had gotten off work at three, spent some time at that bar, then gotten to Cris's by five. Then we had spent an hour, maybe one and a half, at the gym. The remaining three and a half hours had been spent with Danny. Cris would be pissed at me for leaving him hanging, especially if he knew I had done so to hook up with his gym idol. "My plans have probably fallen through, then," I said, chuckling to hide my anxiety. "But I have to go anyways. I have to be up by five." I toweled off while he finished showering, then made my way back to the living room, naked, to find my clothes. As I dressed, I pulled out my phone to check my messages. Sure enough, from Cris, about an hour before, was a series of text messages. I read the most recent one. Guess you're busy. Don't worry about coming over tonight. Maybe later in the week. I sighed as I put my phone back in my pocket and pulled on my shoes. Then I called out, "Gotta go, Dan. I'll see you around!" before heading out the front door and making my way back to my car.

Eight It’s kind of cute how much effort Luke makes just to go to the crappy Students’ Union bar. He has a shower (hello little abs and novelty Mr Strong boxer shorts), puts in contact lenses instead of wearing his black, plastic framed glasses and spends about ten minutes in the mirror fiddling with his hair. All the time I’m lying on my bed doing sweet fuck all. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” I say, leaping off my bed as Luke pulls a new t-shirt over his head. He turns around and looks at me confused. “What is THIS?” I ask, looking at his rather tight fitted, bright blue t-shirt. His mini pecs bulging through the material. It’s not the fit I’m surprised at though. It’s the t-shirt itself. There are no Marvel superheroes on it. No Batman logo. Nothing Harry Potter related. It’s just plain. A perfectly ordinary, plain blue t-shirt. He looks down and then smirks and rolls his eyes. “Have you finished faffing about?” I ask him. I won’t lie. Luke does look nice. The tight t-shirt gets a definite thumbs up. I can see his eyes a bit better too now that he’s not wearing his glasses. They’re really blue. Kind of piercing. I’ve never really noticed that before. “Are you going like that?” he asks me, giving me the stink eye. “Yep!” I say, defiantly. I’m wearing the black vest and painted on skinny jeans I’ve been wearing all day. My pecs are spilling out around the material of my vest. My shoulders and biceps are on full display. And my arse looks fucking massive straining underneath the denim of my jeans. Why the fuck do I need to change? I’m tempted to make a comment about the fact that I’m not exactly likely to pull at the fucking SU bar, but I don’t. Any hints or suggestions to my sexual preferences have been absent from mine and Luke’s conversations. Which is how it is with all the guys here at Muscle University. “I can’t get any sexier than this without taking off a layer of clothing I’m afraid!” I tell Luke in a deadpan manner. He pulls a face and rolls his eyes. But he’s smirking too. “Oh, wait!” I say, suddenly thinking of something to add to my outfit. I take my black cap with the word “ICON” written on it in white from my drawer and put it on. Just to give my look a bit of an edge. Luke looks suitably unimpressed. “Beauuutiful!” he says, in a sarcastic manner. And suddenly I’m grinning like mad. Because that’s one of my little sayings. I wonder if Luke has any idea that he’s picked it up from me? The SU bar is pretty dead. There’s a group of guys who look like second years gathered in a booth in one corner. Other than them and us, there’s pretty much no one else here. Luke looks predictably disappointed. “Welcome to the most exciting nightlife in a twenty mile radius!” I tell him. He looks around and shoots me a look which pretty much sums up my feelings about the place. “It can be okay in here, to be fair!” I tell Luke as we sit opposite each other in a booth with our drinks. “They do, like, themed nights sometimes. Nineties night. Stuff like that! Although … that’s usually when lads start acting like twats!” Luke nods at me. Then he stares off into the distant and shakes his head. “Jesus!” he says. “What?” “I’m just thinking about what Deano would be like drunk!” I laugh. “Well he’s about twice as loud! And twice as annoying. He’s basically just a bigger prick than he normally is!” Luke grins and takes a sip of his vodka and coke. “I actually got the impression you were a bit like him at first!” I laugh out loud. “Oh, cheers!” “Well can you blame me?” he says smirking. “I mean, the way you acted in Posing Practice 101!” I’m a little taken aback. But I guess I kind of see Luke’s point. I shrug. “That was just me being cocky!” Luke raises an eyebrow at me. “Hmmm. And the rest!” I pull a face and shrug like I don’t know what he’s talking about. “Oooh, how about one more pose, sir? I’m thinking, hmmm … a most muscular?" Luke says, in a whiny voice to imitate me, which makes me laugh. “Okay, that sounds nothing like me!” Luke rolls his eyes and just smirks at me. “Look, I told you the other day, I was pissed off about the roommate thing! But … okay, maybe I was showing off a bit!” Luke laughs. “A bit?! It was like you were trying to impress him, though. Deano! Not just him. All of them!” I’m kind of surprised at how open Luke is about what he thinks. He doesn’t seem to hold back much. I actually respect that. “I wasn’t trying to impress Deano!” I say defensively. But I’m not entirely convinced that’s true. Maybe I was? I sigh. “Look, it isn’t always easy to get attention round here! And it doesn’t really happen very often so …,” I stop there, feeling slightly anxious that I’m revealing so much, while also being kind of impressed by Luke’s ability to get me to open up. Luke nods at me. This little smirk on his face. Like he’s got me. “I’m not sure it’s that hard to get attention round here, by the way!” Luke says. “I know one really easy way!” I look at him blankly. He shrugs. “Just wear Harry Potter boxer shorts to Posing Practice 101!” I laugh. “You know it’s kind of ironic. The smallest guy here gets loads of attention and doesn’t want it. And I’m here, a two hundred and thirty pounds bodybuilder who’s acting like a complete twat just to be the centre of attention for ten minutes!” Luke just grins me. “Wanna switch bodies?” I ask him. His eyes widen comically. “YES PLEASE!” he says, his eyes veering to my chest. I laugh and feel flattered. Really flattered actually. Luke’s never really commented on my body before. And now I’m wondering again whether Johnny Hoxton was right when he said that Luke probably looks up to me because of my size. I look down at my chest and give my pecs a little bounce. “You couldn’t handle having pecs like these!” He’s shaking his head, but he’s grinning. Fuck, is he grinning. Like crazy. His cheeks looks a little flushed too. I guess my muscles have an effect on Luke like they do on most non-bodybuilders. I feel a sudden rush of excitement at that thought. “Meh! You’ll be as big as me in no time!” I tell him. “Hope so!” he says, with this dreamy grin. I can tell he really wants it. It’s pretty endearing really. “So what do your parents think about the whole bodybuilding thing?” I ask Luke. Something flickers across his face for a second and I can’t work out what it means. “Oh, it’s just my mum!” he replies, his voice suddenly sounding smaller. “She’s fine with it. Dad passed away last year.” Shit. I feel a sharp tug in my chest. And then I remember what Johnny Hoxton said to me. That Luke’s had a rough year. Fucking nice one, Woody. “Sorry!” I say, feeling bad and not knowing what else to say. Luke gives me a kind smile and shakes his head. “It’s fine. I don’t mind talking about it. I think it’s safe to say he would have approved of me being here!” he says, mysteriously. I give him a quizzical look. Luke smirks and gets his phone out of his pocket. He plays with it for a few moments and then hands it to me. “Can you see the resemblance?” I’m looking at a picture of a bodybuilder. Shredded and impressively sized in a pair of red posing trunks. His muscles are like thick, chunky balloons. There’s a real hardness to his physique too. His arms are particularly impressive. And fuck, he looks like Luke! The same piercing blue eyes and a similar grin (only more self assured). “Oh wow!” I say, barely able to believe what I’m looking at. “So your dad was a bodybuilder?” Luke nods. “He never became a pro or anything. But he competed quite a bit. He mostly just did NABBA stuff!” “You look just like him!” I say. Luke smiles but it quickly fades. And now he looks kind of pensive. A little sad even. And something twists in my stomach. I give him his phone back, thinking about what Johnny said to me earlier in the week. That it means a lot for Luke to be here. And now I know why. “So I guess you’ve got a bit of an idea of what you’ll look like when you’re a competitive bodybuilder then?” He gives me this cute grin. “Mmmm. A bit! Only I reckon I’ll be bigger. Sorry dad!” he says, pulling a playful face, which makes me laugh. “So what about your parents?” he asks me. I nod. “They approve!” I reply, feeling a little cagey. Then I think about the way Luke just fearlessly opened up to me. “Mum took a bit of persuading!” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Dad’s pretty supportive! I think it’s the whole competitive thing that he approves of!” I say, rolling my eyes. “As soon as I started doing shows he suddenly showed an interest. He’s pretty competitive in general!” “Have you done well in your competitions?” I shrug. “I’ve won every one!” I say casually. Luke looks surprised and grins. “Huh! I thought you’d be really cocky about something like that?” I smile back at him. “Funnily enough, the whole competitive side of it has never been that important to me. I mean, it’s nice to win and everything, but it’s not what bodybuilding’s about for me!” “What’s it about for you then?” “Hmmm. Being a big, sexy muscle freak!” I say with a smirk. Luke rolls with his eyes and grins back at me. “Having pecs to bounce. Biceps to flex!” Fuck. I’m actually starting to turn myself on a bit. Luke’s smirk turns a little sheepish and for some reason I feel a shiver of excitement. I’m tempted to add “wearing shiny posing trunks that get devoured by my big greedy glutes”. What the hell would Luke’s expression do then? “It’s the whole thing, I guess. I mean being on stage is, like, AMAZING. Posing for an audience. Showing off your muscles with a bunch of other freaks. Having fun. Being, well … cocky!” Luke playfully rolls his eyes. “The audience cheering you on. It’s … a real fucking rush! You’ll find that out when you compete!” His blue eyes seem to light up when I say that. “And … I guess if I’m being honest, I kinda like being … a bit different?” I say, wincing and feeling a pang of anxiety at being so open. Luke smirks and raises an eyebrow. “I kind of guessed that one for myself!” I grin back. “So I have NO idea what my dad’s gonna think when I don’t win a competition. Which is definitely gonna happen! I mean, you’ve seen the guys here. I’m not even the biggest lad in our year!” “Mmmm!” Luke says. “You’re not far off though!” And he’s grinning at me and fuck, I feel something. I’m definitely feeling something. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s just Luke complimenting me, but, I dunno, I’m liking this a lot more than I thought I would. Being here. With Luke. “Want another drink?” he asks. “About time!” I tease. Luke grins and walks off and I watch him walk across the bar. His pert little arse sticking out in his skinny jeans. GRRRR. What are the chances that he sneakily put his new posing trunks on underneath his boxers when I wasn’t looking? And his cute, beefy buns are spilling out of the shiny blue material at right this second? Aaaand now I’ve got a hard on thinking about Luke’s arse. Again! Fuck - I really need to try and stop thinking about his bloody arse. I mean, I guess it’s not that unusual when you think about. The guy did stand in front of me tensing his glutes in a pair of shiny posers, for Christ’s sake. And those posers are some of the hottest I’ve ever seen. And his arse is pretty cute. Okay, okay, his arse is really fucking cute. Do you know what are also pretty cute? His lats! I’m looking at them now, peeking underneath Luke’s tight, blue t-shirt as he leans across the bar and orders our drinks. Oh, and the calf muscles stretching the denim of his skinny jeans are pretty cute too. And as for those dimples. Bloody hell! There’s just a lot of cuteness going on with that boy. Cute Luke. Lukey The Cutie. JESUS. Easy on the fucking vodka, Woody. I shake my head, look away and snap myself out of checking out my straight roommate who I’ve known for less than a week. I get my phone out of my pocket and fire up Instagram. Since I last checked the app, I’ve had dozens of new likes and even a few new comments on the front double bicep shot from the gym I posted yesterday. Someone says I’m “killing it” (always!), another user has written “F****g beast bro” (you know it!) and someone else has asked me how much to feel my biceps. Haha! Fucking cheeky bugger. Wait - I think I recognise the username of the person who’s written it. I check back to the post I made last weekend on the train back to MU and, as suspected, it’s the same guy who asked to feel my biceps. The guy I sent the blowing kiss face emoji to and earned me a weeks worth of twattish comments from Deano and Shaun. Plus a warning of how flirting with gay guys on Instagram might affect my reputation as a bodybuilder. Ugh. Luke comes back to our booth with the drinks. “What are you smirking at?” he asks me. “Remember that guy who asked if he could feel my biceps on Instagram?” He gives me a coy smile. “The one you blew a kiss to?” I nod. “He’s commented again!” I say, passing my phone to Luke. He reads it closely. Then his eyes bulge and he shakes his head, with this little grin on his face. “Outrageous!” he says, passing me the phone back. “What’s Deano gonna say?” “Fuck Deano!” I say. “Hmmm!” I do a pretend thinking face, then I start tapping away a reply. “You’re NOT replying?” “Of course I am!” For a moment I question whether I should reply. And whether I should actually think about what Deano said instead. Not replying would be the safer option. And the easiest one. But where’s the fun in that? Plus, Deano will definitely have something to say if send a reply. I know he will. “Aaand … sent!” I say. Luke’s grinning and shaking his head at me. I can tell he secretly approves. “What did you write?” I teasingly smirk at him and shrug. “Let me guess. TWO blowing kiss emojis?” “NO!” I scoff. “I’ve got more imagination than that.” I hand him my phone and he reads my comment out loud. “Fifty pounds for the biceps in my left arm. Sixty for the ones in my right arm (cause they’re ever so slightly bigger)! Tongue out emoji!” Luke’s giggling and shaking his head. He hands me back my phone. “Now delete it!” he orders. “Fuck that! And, before you say it, FUCK DEANO! Anyway, how’s your new page going, Geek To Freak?” Luke mouth curls into this cute, sheepish grin. “I’m thinking about it!” “Don’t think. Just do it!” “You sound like a Nike advert!” “We can take the first picture right now! Gimme your phone!” He suspiciously narrows his eyes at me. “Mmmm!” “Give. Me. Your. Fucking. Phone!” I playfully order. He sighs and gives in, smirking. “Right, why don’t you do … a front double bicep?” Luke groans. “Do I have to?” “You know you wanna!” I tease. He sighs and I can see a hint of a smile forming. He looks around the bar to see if anyone’s looking which is pretty fucking adorable and my heart flutters as he awkwardly brings both of his arms up and his little biceps bulge through the tight blue material of his t-shirt. His face is a little flushed and embarrassed, but that hint of a smile is back again. I actually didn’t expect Luke’s biceps to be that big when flexed. Fuck. I’m actually really impressed. “Well helloooo, Mr Bicep! Mrs Bicep!” I say. Luke laughs and tells me to shut up and just take the picture. “Are you gonna pull a cheeky face or something?” “What like you do, you mean?” “Luke, have you been checking out my Instagram page?” I tease. My chest expands at the thought. He looks a little serious for a second. Even a little embarrassed. And then he relaxes his expression. “Well I fancied a laugh!” he says, pronouncing it "laff" as a posed to “larf”, with his Northern dialect. “Cheeky!” Luke does this kinda coy grin as he looks at the phone and I take the picture. For some reason I’m finding it hard to say anything as I look at the picture of him. “Perfect!” I say, handing his phone back. I have no idea where that came from. There’s not a hint of sarcasm in my voice either. He looks a bit suspicious as he takes his phone off me and looks at the picture. Like he’s waiting for the punchline. “For a physique competitor?” he asks me. I smile and shrug. “For a future freak and former geek!” He still looks a bit suspicious but he’s smirking too, clearly flattered by my words. I’m starting to think that Johnny was right, because Luke really does seem to look up to me. At least in a bodybuilding sense. “Upload it right now!” I order. Luke laughs. “Jesus! Do you always get you want?” “Yep!” He shakes his head and messes with his phone. “Are you gonna change your username to the geek to freak thing too?” “Yeees!” he groans, as if I’m nagging him. “Good lad!” I tell him. “Wait - what caption are you putting with the picture?” He shrugs. “Do I need one?” “Ummm … YES! That’s half the fun of posting on Instagram! Jesus. Here - let me write it!” He looks at me warily, like he doesn’t trust me. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep it safe!” He hands me his phone. “Well … ish!” I add, with a smirk. I bite down on my bottom lip and type away. And I think once again about how much I’m enjoying being here with Luke. Who knows, maybe we could actually be friends? Luke looks nervous as I’m typing away. “Aaaand … posted! Beauuutiful!” I say, handing him his phone back. Luke reads the caption out loud. “Living my dream at Muscle University. Can’t wait for these bad boys to GROW!” And now he’s got this big, giddy grin on his face and my insides are doing weird things again. “Awww!” he says. “That’s actually really nice!” Luke just looks at me, still smiling and huh … I'm getting a bloody hard on again. What a fucking weird time to get a boner. “Don’t forget the hashtags!” I tell him. He excitedly looks at his phone again and reads them out. “Hashtag geek to freak, hashtag gun show, hashtag watch me grow, hashtag muscle university, hashtag SEXY BUGGER!” And now he’s shaking his head, but he’s still grinning like mad. “I would NOT write that!” I just smile back and shrug. “You’ve got to be a little bit cocky though! Standard bodybuilder behaviour!” He’s still smirking, but he suddenly looks a little coy. Even a little embarrassed. I wonder if that’s because of the sexy bugger comment. I basically just implied he was sexy. Maybe that kind of stuff just embarrasses him? God, maybe he even suspects I’m gay? No. He can’t do. Why would he suspect that? “Are you sure about the Muscle University hashtag?” he asks. “Yeah! Why?” “Mmmm. It’s just … won’t everyone see it now?” I laugh. “Yeah! That’s the whole point!” He looks nervous and pulls his eeek face. “What do you want, Luke? To be an unknown, invisible bodybuilder?” He pulls a face and shrugs. “I guess not!” “Anyway, you wanted to fit in, so … this will help. Everyone here has an Instagram profile!” “I think I said blend in!” And then I realise, it was Johnny Hoxton who used the words ‘fit in’. Help Luke fit in with the other lads. “Mmmm. Same thing!” I say, shrugging it off. “Oh wow!” Luke says, looking at his phone. “That post is getting loads of likes. And loads of people are started to follow me!” he says, excitedly. “Someone’s commented too. Welcome to MU. Those guns will grow in no time!” “Awww! See! Fitting in. And blending! Who knows, you might make some new mates from it?” Luke nods his head and looks a bit confused. “What, so you won’t have to hang out with me?” I’m completely thrown. I don’t know why, but I even feel a sharp panic. “No! That’s not what I meant!” I tell him. “I’m kidding!” he says, giving me a nervous smile. Then he looks at his phone again. “Oh God!” he groans. “Look who’s just followed me!” Luke holds his screen out to me and I read from it. “Deano The Pocket Rocket!” And then I laugh at Luke’s expense. “Oooh, that means he’s probably seen my comment from earlier. Oh well! Too late to delete it now!” I say. But I have to admit, a part of me is a little bit nervous about it. Luke narrows his eyes at me. “You WANT him to see it, don’t you?” I shrug and smirk. “Cause you like the attention? And you like the idea of being different from the other lads here?” he says. “Alright, Jeremy Kyle!” I joke. But he’s right. He’s so fucking right. “Maybe you don’t need to try so hard?” “What do you mean?” I ask him, confused and curious as to what’s coming next. He gives me a little shrug. He looks kinda serious. And a little bit nervous. “Maybe you already are a bit different from the other lads here?” I feel a sharp pang of nerves. Is Luke implying what I think he is? Has he figured out that I’m gay? I give him a confused look like I don’t know what he’s talking about and take another sip of my drink. And then he says something which sends my heart racing and my mind spinning. “Maybe I’m a bit different too?” What. The. Fuck? Wait - is Luke gay too? Is that what he meant? Different = gay? Is there any chance that the cute guy who I’ve been increasingly enjoying hanging out with and whose arse I haven’t been able to stop picturing for the past few days is actually gay like me? And now there’s an awkwardness between us. And Luke looks a little sheepish. Nervous even. Like maybe he’s regretting what he just said. “Just need the toilet!” he announces, before leaving the booth. He doesn’t say any more about it when he comes back, and neither of us mention his comments for the rest of the night. It’s almost like we just pretend it didn’t happen. But I can’t stop thinking about it. In the bar. On the walk back to our room. When he’s climbing into bed in his little white vest and cute Mr Strong boxers. When I wake up the next morning, and pretty much for the rest of the day. Luke’s words. “Maybe you’re different from the other lads here.” “Maybe I’m a bit different too.” And the more I think about it, the more I’m hoping that Luke really was implying that he’s gay. And the more I actually want it to be true.

Not responding to someone he doesn’t know on social media is not sign of being a douche at all. Zach is a very nice guy who’s dedicated to his craft. He keeps pretty low profile and to himself and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Yep...those are pretty much what AJ's painted on skinny jeans would look like too! 25 year old blonde bodybuilding farm boy? How about Zach Merkel...

Yeah, mate. That's kinda what I have in mind for Deano (looks wise). It's tricky with Luke. He's so specific in my head. Very cute, wholesome looking and also a little geeky and intelligent looking. I guess maybe a bit like a younger version of this guy... And if I had to pick a bodybuilder for Woody I'd probably go for this guy. But a British version who's a LOT cockier! So every time he wears skinny jeans you guys can just picture this... These guys were not inspirations for the characters by the way. Just probably the closet real life bodybuilders to how I imagine them!

This is my first complete story. Some of you have been reading this in the Unfinished section of this forum. It's now finished, so I'm posting it here. Thank you to those people who have already given me positive comments on this story. They will undoubtedly encourage me to write more stories. The story has six chapters. Some of them have gay themes, others straight themes, and others bi. I have made some very slight edits to the original six parts that were posted originally, to hopefully improve the story slightly, when it comes to grammar and continuity. Hope you enjoy my story! ------------ BLACK HULK Chapter 1: Kris meets Black Hulk Everyone gasped when he entered. He swaggered slowly to a deckchair, with his belongings, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. This was not odd, since we were in the hotel indoor pool, me and around six or seven strangers. What made everyone gasp was the sheer amount of muscular development this man's body was presenting to our senses. To me, those muscles were instantly recognizable. They belonged to Henk Kuria, or, as everyone in the porn industry called him, Black Hulk. Winner of the past three Mr. Olympias and a long string of other bodybuilding contests, Black Hulk stormed into the bodybuilding scene in 2020 as a 6'4, 380lbs unknown 20-year-old from Kenya. That year, he not only easily defeated, and humiliated, the then Mr. O. Phil Heath, but has won every bodybuilding contest he entered. The incredible thing is that, according to the latest news from the IFBB, Black Hulk weighed an astonishing 420lbs in last year's Mr. O., with a barely comprehensible 4% bodyfat. How do I know this? Well, I've jacked off at least once everyday as soon as my eyes feasted on this giant monument of musculature back then in 2020. So much, so that this year I decided to travel all the way to Las Vegas to witness this guy live. I truly am a huge fan of his. Not just for his giant muscles, but also for his lifestyle. A few months after he won his first Olympia, Black Hulk came out as bisexual. At first, there were rumors that the IFBB would retract his title, but soon common sense prevailed. At that time, Black Hulk started to feature in a lot of porno movies, some straight, some gay, and some bi. The astonishing thing is that, as time went by, not only did his incredibly huge muscles became bigger and bigger, but also, visibly, his cock and balls grew in unison. In his first porno, fucking Lela Star, he had a very respectable 8 inch cock. In his last, not only did he grew 40lbs of muscle since that first porn flick, but also 2 inches of cock; moreover, his dick is visibly much thicker. This last porno was a reverse gangbang, where Black Hulk fucked 20 women in 2 hours. One after the other, every woman roared in an earth shattering orgasm, begging him to stop. Then, in the end, he climaxed on all of them at once, in a cumblast that lasted a full minute. Needless to say, this porno flick proved very popular. The gay porn community have now asked him to film a gay-themed similar flick, with 20 men. Anyway, Black Hulk is here, a few feet away from me. Apparently, he decided to use the services of the same hotel I was in, during his stay in Las Vegas to undoubtedly conquer Mr. Olympia for a fourth time. My cock instantly grew rock hard in my swimtrunks; luckily I was in the pool, so nobody noticed. What also helped somewhat was the fact that every other person that, up till that point, were with me in the pool decided to pack their things and leave. Maybe they were disgusted by his muscles, or by his well-known overly sexualized lifestyle, who knows. Fact is, I was the only one to witness him casually removing his towel from his overly-muscular waist, revealing a swimsuit that was clearly struggling to contain the massive cock and balls inside it. Then he proceeded to jump in the pool, with a grace that beguiled his enormous frame. This was too good an opportunity to miss. I had to talk to him! But... I completely froze! "Hey man, nice traps" a heavily-accented voice said. It took me a while to realize that Black Hulk has just spoken, and, further, that he was referring to... me! "Uh... fuck. I mean... uh... thanks" I stammered. "I'm... I'm Kris... I'm... uh... sorry, I... big fan... I... I..." "No need to be shy around me, Kris" he grinned, his teeth's sparkling whiteness contrasting sharply with his dark black supermuscular body. "You must work out? I like your traps a lot." Black Hulk is complementing ME? Wow, this must be a dream. "Uh, thanks, uh, yes, I do..." That was all my brain could muster. "You've got a nice package down there too", he continued, grinning even wider. Instinctively, I turned beet red, and tried to cover my erect genitals. Damn, I must be so erect that he could notice from above the water. "You are indeed a big fan." he continued. "Am I responsible for some of your orgasms?" "ALL of them" I blurted out loud. "Since your first Mr. Olympia win, I haven't orgasmed to any human being except you." That was the brutally honest truth. "Good. I like sexy fans like you. You here to see me win another Olympia, right?" "Yes... yes I am. Nobody comes close to your hypermuscular body." "Indeed, nobody does." He climbed out of the water. "Come here. Feel my body. I don't bite." Suddenly, like a wild animal overcame with lust, I jumped out of the pool and started squeezing all of his bodyparts. Those traps, that seemed to go all the way level to his ears. That barrell neck, thicker than the circumference of his head. Those huge shoulders, so monumentally massive and defined. Those impossible biceps, that, even relaxed, seemed like somebody had stuffed a melon inside them. Those triceps, that protuded so far out of his arms that they almost looked like biceps. Those forearms, so incredibly thick, thicker than a normal man's legs. Those pectorals, incomprehensibly thick and full shelves of muscular power. Those abdominals, looking and feeling like eight slabs of diamond-hard bricks on his tapered down waist. Those lats, popping out so ridiculously wide of his back that they seemed like almost having a life of their own. That unbelievable back, so thick and defined and wide and massive. Those quads, impossibly muscular and immense, so massively muscled that I couldn't even hug one. Those calves, scarcely comprehensible slabs of meat, each bigger than my own pecs. Those glutes, protruding out of his hips even more than his monstrous back muscles. Every single bodypart of this incredible human specimen required your constant attention and worship. I found myself squeezing, feeling, massaging, sometimes even licking each and every one of his bodyparts. "Mmm, you really like my body, don't you Kris? This year, I weigh 440lbs, 4% bodyfat. That's another 20lbs more than last year's Mr. O." He moaned contentedly. I was slowly turning him on. "How do you do it, Black Hulk?" I asked him I licked one of his nipples, then continued "I mean, I'm proud of my 5'9, 190lbs body, but I have to work really hard to stay in shape. You look godlike all the time. I'm squeezing as hard as I can and it feels like squeezing a marble statue." "Man, you want my body so bad. Your lust for me is actually turning me on" moaned the superbodybuilder. "Let's go to my room. It's more private." He dried off, and re-wrapped his towel around his waist. Even like this, the towel was slightly tented... his cock was indeed half-hard. "You sure? I mean... yes, YES" I almost shouted. I hurriedly dried off and wrapped my own towel around my waist, concealing my own totally erect cock that had been straining my swimtrunks for the past half an hour. As we were leaving, a family entered the pool premises. The mother and the father were shocked by the dimensions of my idol, and they were relieved that we were leaving. Their son, who couldn't have been older than 7 years old, pointed at him and said "Look, Mommy, it's the Hulk!" We exited the pool amid the voices of the mother and father trying to explain to their kid that my idol wasn't the Hulk because his skin wasn't green. It took us around five minutes to reach his room at the twenty-first floor. During those five minutes, a million thoughts raced through my head. Are we going to have sex? Will this be just a worship session? Am I dreaming? Whatever it was, I thought how blessed I was to be with the man of my dreams, even if this was, indeed, a dream. We entered his room, and I closed the door. The room was huge, almost like an apartment. I was marveling at the beauty and size of the room, when I felt him hugging me from my back. Then he whispered, in that sexy accent of his, "Let me give you a pre-show." He allowed me to turn around. His cock and balls were now visibly straining his swimtrunks more than before. He started to practice his posing routine in front of me. Now I already described to you his incredibly huge muscles, how massively thick, huge, hard, and bulging they were. That was when he was relaxed. When flexing them, his muscles really came alive. When he did a crab pose, his already enormous and thick pecs inflated outwards like balloons, except that they were even harder than before. I found myself getting so hard that I had to take off my swimtrunks, because they were hurting. He slightly gasped when he saw my erect cock, probably because it was leaking precum. He did a back pose, copying Ronnie Coleman's signature pose, where he would spread his lats more and more, until he reaches their maximum spread. Except this man's back was infinitely thicker and infinitely wider, to the point where, in his final lat spread pose, his fists couldn't even reach his relatively small waist. I moaned slightly in response, as my precum was forming a small puddle below me. He then turned sideways, and here his absurd thickness was made clear. My eyes traced through his neck and traps, going outwards through his immense back muscles and monstrous pecs, to then narrow down to his waist and well-muscled abs, to then stretch out absurdly by his impossibly thick glutes and monumental quads. He started doing his signature pose, where he slowly flexed his right bicep, making it turn from a melon, to a bowling ball, to a watermelon. As my eyes bugged out, witnessing the incredible flexing of his bicep, I was absolutely sure that bicep couldn't grow any bigger, but then he grinned and effortlessly flexed it further, making it probably as big as a basketball. I lost it; I started to cum powerfully all over myself, at the sight of this incredible display of musculature, all without ever touching my dick. So powerful was my orgasm that most of my cum hit his forearm, bicep and right quad, even though I was a good two feet away from him. My cock was an erupting volcano that was being kept in check for far too long, resulting in a more massive eruption than usual. My orgasm took about seven seconds to complete. It was, easily, my most satisfying orgasm ever. "God, that's so hot" he murmured, as he scrambled to remove his own swimtrunk, which only succeeded in tearing it off his hulking body. His own cock was now rock hard. "I made you cum just by flexing my muscles... that's the hottest thing I've ever witnessed." he moaned. His cock was covering his navel and his midsection, probably around a foot long and as thick as my wrist... no, probably even thicker. His balls hung low, and looked as big as the rest of him. I came closer to him, rubbing my own cum along his quads, then my left hand cupped his balls. They must have easily been five times bigger than mine, maybe even six. My right hand managed to just encompass the huge girth of his erect cock. Then I started to stroke it, caress it, marveling at its incredible size. "Harder, Kris. Use your full strength with me! Do not hold back!" the massive superbodybuilder implored. "Yes, yes, certainly, I apologize, Black Hulk." "Do not apologize. I like you a lot, Kris. Nobody has ever turned me on as much as you have done today." I started to nibble on his left nipple, which was almost the size of a small penis, while I simultaneously pinched his right nipple and jerked his amazing cock with my hands. He moaned in delight. "Ohh yes, you're good at this" Black Hulk moaned. I'm GOOD at this? This is my very first sexual encounter with anyone, and fate wanted that my very first sex session was to be with the biggest, most muscular bodybuilder on the planet. "Please, don't stop" he continued. I rubbed my hands against his abs, with all my might, in the meantime licking and biting them. I tasted his savoury sweat and a bit of my own cum. His huge cock became even bigger, as it almost hit my head. "FUCK, that's it, I HAVE to fuck you," he roared. He lifted me up like I was a rag doll. He let me face his gigantic upper body while pointing his giant dickhead towards my ass. "Hold on, hold on, Black Hulk! Please... please... be gentle... this is my first time." I felt his massive dickhead penetrating me. Surprisingly, it didn't feel as uncomfortable as I thought. Using just a fraction of his hulk-like strength, he pushed inside me, using his own precum as lubricant, until most of his cock was in. "Relax," he whispered in my ear. "Let go of me, balance on my cock alone, feel how even my cock is super powerful." I did as he told me, and indeed, his cock managed to support my entire weight. I also felt some liquid squirting inside my ass. "Are you... cumming?" I asked him. "That's my precum, Kris. It squirts as far as most people's cumshots. It will help with keeping your insides nice and moist for my cock to slide easily." "Wow, you're amazing, Black Hulk!" I hadn't finished saying this completely... he grabbed my ass and pushed his cock partially out of my hole and pushed it back in, slowly. "Did that hurt?" he asked. "No, no." "Good. Enjoy the ride. Cling to wherever of my body you like!" I grabbed his giant pecs as he started fucking me, first slowly, then faster and faster. At some points, he was almost hitting my prostate. My dick went rock hard again, as I realized that I was completely at this monstrous hulk's mercy. Soon, he started to moan louder, and his body started to glisten with sweat. His glistening muscles flexed several times as he edged closer to orgasm. Then he hit my prostate, sending me into an instinctive orgasm, and... "Oh GOD, Kris, I'm CUMMING... OH... OOOHHHOOHHH... Fuck YEAH!" My butt was blasted repeatedly with this incredible man's cum, in an orgasm that must have taken a full minute. Then, slowly, it abated, and his breathing became more normal. "Ohh... phew, that felt really good Kris." He disengaged his cock off my ass. Surprisingly, none of his cum rolled out of my butthole, and I did not feel bloated or anything. "Uh... where did your cum go?" I asked him. "Is this normal?" "I honestly have no idea" he told me, concerned. Then it hit me. A massive spasm all over my abdomen. Then all over me. Then it went as quickly as it came. Perhaps it took two seconds, tops. "Fuck, what was that?" we asked, together. ---------------- Chapter 2: Mysterious Bodily Reactions We looked at each other, stunned. "Did... did it hurt?" the overly-muscular black bodybuilder asked, after a protruded silence. "No, no. It felt... weird, though. Like there was something inside me stretching my body parts. But now, I feel fine." "You sure?" the muscle monster mused. "Really, Henk, I do." It was the first time I called him by his real name. The hulking muscleman smiled faintly, in approval. "Look, today has been unbelievable getting to... know you better, Henk. You fulfilled my utmost dreams, and more. I'll never forget this day, ever. But now, I'm sure you need to prepare for tomorrow's prejudging and Saturday's contest." "Yes, I do, Kris. But I have an offer for you. Would you want to be backstage tomorrow and Sunday, with me?" "You're kidding? I'd really, REALLY love to! But, I'm not, uh, very well-acquainted with... being back-stage." "I just need you to apply oil on my body. You know, to make my muscles show more. I'm sure you'll do very well in that regard, after how you worshipped me earlier." The huge muscleman winked and grinned. "The rest, leave it up to me. You in?" Rubbing Black Hulk's giant muscles with oil? Who in their right mind would refuse such an offer? "Of COURSE I'm in! I'm just afraid that I'll be turned on all the time by your..." "Good. That's exactly what I want." Black Hulk grinned again. His grin is so hot, I thought: pure white teeth atop a sea of bulging black muscles. "What do you mean?" "You'll see tomorrow." I wanted to ask him why such a successful bodybuilder does not have a team of trainers, nutritionists, sponsors and spokespersons, but I decided not to raise this issue. Still, this IS a little weird. He seems to be all alone in this hotel, after all. The other Mr. Olympia contestants are probably answering questions in press conferences, whereas Black Hulk is in a hotel fucking a stranger... "Oh, and another thing. You're free to come to my room any time while you're staying in this hotel," continued the multiple Mr. O. winner. "Likewise, Henk. Listen, I'm starving. Shall we get something to eat?" "Yes, there's a buffet going on. It started while we were... swimming", the massive black bodybuilder winked. "Let me shower first. I still stink of your cum." He laughed. "Okay, I guess I'll go shower in my room and come back," I said. "No you won't," the immense muscle mountain quipped. He lifted me up with one arm. "You'll shower with me. Why waste water? Besides, you can lather my back much better than I can." "Oh, I can lather every INCH of you, not just your back" I moaned, getting horny again at the prospect of showering with the man of my dreams. He carried me to the shower, and opened the water. We lathered each other. He was right: his upper body was so wide that he couldn't ever lather himself at various places. I paid extra attention to each of his bodyparts, rubbing them with shower gel repeatedly. Even though I had orgasmed twice in the past half an hour, I found myself getting hopelessly horny again. He showed me his massive biceps again, flexing them for me, making them basketballs of power. "Fuck, man, those biceps, they make me rock hard every time. They're so FUCKING immense," I moaned. He placed my cock between his super thick left forearm and his giant left bicep, and flexed the bicep around my cock. Needless to say, this had a very quick effect: my cock blasted another copious amount of cum all over him. He smiled. "It's my turn now" I told him, as I recovered from my third orgasm in thirty five minutes. I grabbed his cock and gave him a good handjob. The cock rose to its barely-believable length and girth. Then I took his cockhead in my mouth; it was as big as a fucking apple. I sucked him as hard as I could, while simultaneously jerking it off with all my might and fondling his oversized balls. He started to moan louder and louder, until finally I was rewarded with a mighty roar, accompanied by a large stream of cum blasting out of his cock, hitting the sides of the shower with impressive force. His orgasm took about half a minute to abate, which was incredibly amazing, considering that only half an hour before he was spraying cum for an entire minute. We finally headed off the shower. I dried off and wrapped my towel around myself, when I noticed something. "Hey look, that's weird... I don't have any hair anymore! Like, no hair on my chest, my forearms, my legs, my armpits... I don't even have pubic hair!" I touched my head and face. My hair and stubble were still there, thankfully. "Hmm... that IS strange..." the black muscleman mused. "You're... you're kinda like me, now, with no hair below your neck at all." "That's different - you probably waxed it for the contest. Right?" "Uh, actually I didn't. I don't have any hair on my body. Below my head, that is. Maybe... that's what your spasms did to you earlier... still, why would your bodyhair disappear so quickly?" The overly-sized muscleman was deep in thought. "Don't worry about it. I'll get used to it. And, maybe it'll grow again. I'll pop out to my room to wear something. We'll meet near the elevator," I said. A few minutes later. I was next to the elevator, wearing shirt and trousers. I saw him coming, and was stunned again. He was wearing a white T-shirt with the words 'BLACK HULK' embroidered in black, and blue shorts. However, they were so tight on his bulging mountains of muscle that all of his muscle beneath the fabric could easily be traced, including not only his immense pecs, but also his abdominals and his nipples. His shorts expanded ridiculously around his superhuge quads and glutes, each overinflated muscle group threatening to rip it off at any moment. "Jesus, Henk, your clothes leave absolutely nothing to the imagination, don't they?" I murmured. "They don't. I had made these to order when I was 410lbs, a year and a half ago. Now that I'm 440lbs, they are juuuust a little bit tight," he teased. We entered the restaurant and took a plateful of the buffet food. People actually stopped and stared at the huge muscleman. Some murmured something to themselves, others turned to their friends and nudged them to take a look at Henk. I felt proud that I was next to him. Nobody in the whole world has an amorous partner as hot as mine. I was really starving, so I visited the buffet several times, like four or five times. The massive bodybuilder did likewise. I noticed that he was not much choosy with his food; he was eating carbs, protein, fibre, milk products... he was enjoying everything. That's weird, I thought: this guy is going to be in the world's biggest bodybuilding contest tomorrow, and he's not even trying to eat well for it. What I soon found weirder was how my appetite was not satiated, even after eating 7 platefuls of food. Even Henk said he was full after taking seven plates of delicious food. On the other hand, my stomach felt like I barely even started. "Man, you eat even more than I do... that's impressive," the black muscle mountain mused. "I'm surprising even myself... I usually just take three plates, tops, including dessert," I said. "What's happening to me? I'm still starving!" "I honestly have no idea... good thing we have this buffet going on... you can keep eating without paying extra!" Black Hulk said, glancing towards another table. Looking in the direction he was glancing at, there was a young woman sitting down, eyeing both of us, but especially staring at my idol. "You know her?" I whispered. "I don't think I do," confessed the huge bodybuilder. "She wants me badly, though, judging by how she's looking at me. I know that look. Bet her panties are soaking wet!" He laughed faintly at his own joke. "I'll go get another plate of food," I said. "Cool. I'm good. I'll wait for you." As I filled my plate for the eighth time, I actually felt a little bit jealous. But then I remembered that his superhuman musclegod is a well-known pornstar... it is to be expected that he's not into one stable sex partner. Just then, I noticed the top button of my shirt had popped off. That's strange... even my sleeves are filled more than before. It seems like my body is getting bigger. Well, of course it is... I must have eaten close to 8000 calories in the past hour or so. But, my waist was still as trim as ever... it's like the extra weight has gone to my... pecs and arms? I went back to my restaurant seat, noticing that, in the meantime, Black Hulk was in the company of the girl that was eyeing him earlier. "Uh, excuse me, I'll go to the bathroom quick," I quipped, then immediately raced to the bathroom close by. * * * Everyone gasped when he entered. He swaggered slowly to a restaurant seat, accompanied by a man who must have been in his mid-twenties. This was not odd, since we were in the restaurant buffet room, me and around six or seven strangers. What made everyone gasp was the sheer amount of muscular development the former man's body was presenting to our senses. To me, those muscles were instantly recognizable. They belonged to Henk Kuria, or, as everyone in the porn industry called him, Black Hulk. This guy was, in a word, freaky. I've always secretly loved professional bodybuilders. My female friends somehow always found them 'gross' or 'disgusting', and, in front of them, I agreed. But, secretly, I get wet whenever an overly muscular man flashes past my eyes. And Black Hulk wasn't just overly muscular. He was, like, twice as big as the biggest pros. This guy's muscles were astonishingly huge... really, there was no comparison. It was like his muscles had muscles of their own. And he was BLACK. I LOOOVE black men. They look so virile. His skin was really, really dark, too; he was one of the blackest men I had ever witnessed. That made him even hotter, in my books. I had searched for his name ever since I stumbled upon the first porno I watched that featured him. He fucked Lela Star senseless in that porn flick, and the poor girl with the comically enhanced butt just didn't know what hit her. She must have felt like she was being fucked by a bulldozer. And then, his orgasm, showering all over her body... his cumshot was easily that of 10 men combined. After that flick, Lela Star actually took a six month break from porn, citing 'personal issues'. But the stage was set. Black Hulk had stolen her limelight, and that light is still shining brightly. Indeed, he not only shot several other porn flicks, with men, women, or both at once, but he became even bigger, and his orgasms even longer and more powerful. Some people started to question how real his orgasms were, although most did not care. The porn industry made sure to mention that none of what they're filming was staged or faked. And, in most nights, I end up shoving a cucumber in my pussy, fucking myself furiously, wishing that cucumber was Black Hulk fucking me into oblivion as I watch him on my phone in my bed. Anyway, Black Hulk is here, a few feet away from me. For some reason, he happens to be in the same hotel I'm in. Maybe for a new porno shoot? Who knows. I was staring at him. He was wearing a white T-shirt, with the words 'BLACK' and 'HULK'. The word 'BLACK' was stretched all around the top of his enormous pectorals, while the word 'HULK' was below it, in the middle, with his two nipples on either side of the word. Fuck, his T-shirt was so tight that even his nipples were visible; that's insane. His pectorals must be much bigger than my own breasts. That's really saying something, as I wear a 34M cup size. I'm a chubby 5'7, 175lbs woman with a 48-32-40 figure. You either love or hate my body. Some guys find me disgustingly fat, while others just adore my voluptuous body. I've had a few one-night stands with men from the latter category, and they have honestly given me much-needed self-confidence about my body. This made me accept what God has given me, and now I flaunt what I have, rather than try to hide it. Which is what this incredible male specimen a few feet from me certainly does; that T-shirt he's wearing just makes him flaunt the godlike upper body he has. Fuck, he's even hotter up close than in the pornos. My juices were flowing. Just then, the guy he was with him stood up to take another plate. I decided to show slightly more cleavage, to see if the giant black bodybuilder noticed. He did, and smiled. I smiled back, then stood up and came next to him. "Hi, I'm Chloe, nice to meet you, Black Hulk." I extended my hand. He took it and kissed it. "Likewise, Chloe. I'm Henk. You've got a very naturally beautiful body, miss." He smiled. "Thank you. Nowhere near close to your magnificence, though," I said, my heart racing. He likes me. Helikesmehelikesmehelikesmehelikesmeeee... "You're a fan, Chloe?" asked the god, known to us mortals as Black Hulk. "Yes. Big fan of your, uh... movies. Big fan of your huge muscles. You're the best!" I enthused. "Thanks, dear. On holiday?" "No, business trip. I'm a journalist, working for the website CoolnHot.com. I'm assigned to write an article about the gambling and entertainment industry here in Vegas, by witnessing them first-hand. I return home tomorrow morning. You?" "I'm here to win the Mr. Olympia contest for the fourth time." I stared at him blankly. I never heard of a Mr. Olympia contest before. "What's that... a pornstar award?" I asked, innocently. Black Hulk laughed. "No, no. It's the biggest bodybuilding contest in the world. I've won it three times already. I'm here to win it for the fourth time. It starts tomorrow and ends Saturday." Just then, Black Hulk's friend returned, and told us he was going to the bathroom. He left the plate on the table and rushed away to the lavatory. "Who is he?" I asked, curious. "He's Kris. A REALLY good friend. He's responsible for making me look good during the contest while I'm backstage. Mostly by rubbing oil on my body." Wow, I'd love to do that, I thought. "You'd like to do that, don't you?" the massive muscleman asked, grinning. "Uh... yeah... admittedly, I'd love to." How did he know what I was thinking? Am I really that easy to read? "Then come to my room... I will let you do that, and more." He winked at me and smiled again, flashing those pure white, sparking teeth. "That's if you've finished eating, of course," he added. "No, no... I'm finished. But... what about your good friend... Kris?" "I'll just leave a note on the table that I had to leave suddenly. Come on, I'll pay for your meal." Just then, he stood up. "Oh, uh, you don't..." I stopped midway through speaking, as I witnessed his 6'4, 440lbs supermuscular frame towering over me. "I mean, uh, thanks," I corrected myself. The black god endowed with the most immense muscles I had ever seen went to the counter and paid for three meals. He then scribbled a note and left it on the table. I was actually impressed that his thick, muscular fingers could still hold a pen relatively easily. "Let's go, my room is in the twenty-first floor," Black Hulk cooed. People stared at us as they walked out of the restaurant and into the elevator. My panties were practically soaked now. I was worried that some wet spot would be visible down my dress, especially since there was another couple with us in the elevator. Their eyes bugged out when they saw the mountain of muscle that was with me. I felt proud of my catch tonight... I was sure this one-night stand will be my best one ever. We arrived at his room. I guess it was some kind of executive suite, because it was much larger and spacious than my room. I closed the door behind me, and immediately sneaked in his bathroom, removing all my clothes. I was never so wet and horny in my life. I tiptoed out, and, before he had even turned around from placing the door key on the desk, I rubbed his massive back, and whispered: "Ready when you are, Black Hulk." ---------------- Chapter 3: Chloe Sex and Muscle Growth He turned around, surprised at my directness. His deep brown eyes scanned my naked body from top to bottom. They approved of what they saw. "I'm always ready, Chloe. You have a very curvy, beautiful body. It reminds me of the beautiful women from my home country. Except your white skin, which I find very appealing," the muscular pornstar said. He put his well-muscled arms around my nude lower back, inviting me to draw myself even closer to his titanic body. I gladly accepted the invitation, and began to grind my entire body, especially my ample breasts, against his hulking, bulging muscles. My head could only reach his monstrous pectorals, so I cradled it between them. He moved his hands towards my round butt, and squeezed them. Being so close to him, I felt his cock starting to stir. "You like my ass, huh?" I cooed as I lifted his T-shirt, willing him to remove it. This exposed his fantastically muscled eight-pack abdominals. I started to squeeze them, but they felt like hard bricks. They were so thick that I could insert my entire index finger in the space between each of the brick-like abdominals. "Holy cow, you're a fucking muscle brick shit-house. Your muscles are even bigger than they look in your pornos," I continued, in absolute amazement. He said nothing; he only grinned at me. Then, his right hand moved towards his T-shirt. Tugging it from the bottom, he tore it off his ridiculously overdeveloped upper body like he had been tearing off toilet paper. His entire upper body was now exposed, and I almost fainted. From the position I was, I could see two enormous orbs of pectoral muscles, each as big as a gravel sack. I rubbed them slowly. They were dense, thick slabs of power; no wonder he could rip off this oversized, yet barely-fitting T-shirt so incredibly easily. The minimal effort he produced to tear off his T-shirt off his body made his arm visibly bounce... it looked as big as one of my buckets I use when I wash my apartment's floor. It was my turn to get speechless. I felt my vaginal fluids roll down the inside of my thighs - I was THAT turned on. My breathing grew heavier. He then gently lifted me up, so that my eyes were level with his. His grin was confident, cocky. He was definitely my first one-night stand that could lift me up so easily, as if my curvy, 175lbs body was as heavy as a book, to him. He lowered his head and sucked my right nipple, which I felt was as big as one of my lipstick bullets. Instinctively, I lowered my head back in ecstasy, as I felt his lips leave my right nipple to plant themselves on my left. I started moaning loudly, wishing him to ravage my pussy with that huge cock of his, that 10 inch monster I always fantasized would, one day, be sliding inside MY pussy instead of the pussy of some random plastic-surgery-filled pornstar. He placed me back on the floor. My eyes were transfixed on the ridiculous bulge between his massive thighs. He removed his shorts, freeing his massive cock from its confines. It immediately sprang upwards, hitting my abdomen in the process, then started to lengthen and thicken further. He had no pants beneath the shorts. Finally, the magnificent dick eased its growth. It pointed directly to my face; I imagined it telling me that, since I was responsible for waking it up, it was going to fuck me really hard. It looked bigger than 10 inches, and thicker than the cucumber I practise with when watching his porn flicks. My sexual arousal has never been this high. My mind was completely blown away by this god. I felt my juices trickle down my thigh and reaching my knees. "You told me 'ready when you are' earlier. Well, I'm definitely ready NOW," Black Hulk announced. He lifted me with one arm and placed me on his bed in a doggy position, with my ample butt facing him. I then waited for him to insert his giant black fuckstick inside my waiting pussy. I felt him do precisely that a moment later. His cock felt really hard and filled up my vaginal walls completely, but I was so well lubricated that there was no pain at all, just ecstasy. "Oh God, you're so big, you fill me up so much. Fuck me, fuck me HARD!" I shouted in delirium. He didn't need my compliance. I felt his hands grab my ass, then he started to fuck me senseless. Each push of his cock inside me felt like a mini-orgasm. I started shouting obscenities, strings of dirty vulgarities that my mind was stringing up there and then. I was nearing an earth-shattering orgasm, so my slurs were becoming more and more high-pitched. In response, he fucked me faster. That was it: my eyes rolled backwards and my mouth made an exaggerated 'OOOOOOOHHHHHH' shape as I climaxed powerfully, my vocal chords trying to keep up with the intensity of my orgasm. He slowed down, waiting for my orgasm to subside, then picked up the pace once again. I felt his cock throbbing even bigger inside me, probably triggered by my insane climax. "Fuck, fuck, fuuuckk, FFFUUUUUCCKKKKK OOOOOHOHOHHHHOHOHHH GODDDDDDDD FUUUUUUUUUUCK YEEAAAAAAAHHHHH!" I shouted as another orgasm hit my senses. He slowed down again, then restarted his relentless pussy drilling with that insane cock he has. I've seen him do it several times in his porn movies; how he'd fuck a girl repeatedly, sending her into countless orgasms, until she literally couldn't take any more, and then, and only then, he ejaculates. I used to think that a lot of editing was involved for that to truly happen. It turns out no editing was required; this man, or should I say, god, knew how to please a woman in a complete, entire way. "Fuck... fuck... Hulk... HULK... BLACK HULK... PLEASE... no more... oh god... you're so good... but please... no more... that's more than enough... fuck... so much cock..." I finally told him after my latest mind-blowing orgasm. I must have orgasmed eight, nine, ten times, I don't remember. He slowed down, then proceeded to slide his cock off my pussy. "No, Black Hulk, what are you doing? I want you to fill my pussy up with your seed." "You sure?" "Yes, I am. I'm on the pill, and I've had my period six days ago. It's safe. Please fill me up with your seed. I beg you. It would make me complete." Black Hulk obliged. He inserted his still rock hard, massive cock inside my vagina. He started to fuck me yet again, but this time, his technique was subtly different. This time, he was doing this to pleasure himself, not myself. Soon I heard him moan louder and louder. I figured he was getting close to orgasm, as his fucks became quicker and more powerful. Finally, I felt him insert his cock completely inside me, almost together with half of his balls, and he roared loudly. I felt my pussy being blasted by an incomprehensible amount of cum. His orgasm lingered on for what seemed like a full minute. During this time, his cock was spewing cum non-stop. I felt my belly actually expand a little bit as my internal organs tried to accommodate this insane amount of cum that was being introduced to them. Finally, his orgasm abated, and he sighed contently. My belly went back to its usual form, and he disengaged his gigantic organ off my vagina. I turned round slowly on the bed to face him. He was covered in sweat, which I found really hot. I opened my legs to allow some of his cum flow out of my vagina, but, surprisingly, none did. "Hey, what the hell? Where did all that cum go?" "I... I have no idea," Black Hulk said. He looked concerned. Then, I suddenly felt it. A massive spasm all over my abdomen. Then another one all over me. Then several spasms, one after the other, shaking my entire body. I continued spasming like this, for what seemed like an eternity. During all this time, I couldn't speak, nor move, nor do anything except spasming, although I was completely conscious. Then, finally, as I was expecting another spasm hitting me, it did not come. I waited and waited, but nothing happened. I must have spasmed for, like, an entire minute. Black Hulk looked at me, and uttered "Oh my god!" * * * I went back to my restaurant seat, noticing that, in the meantime, Black Hulk was in the company of the girl that was eyeing him earlier. "Uh, excuse me, I'll go to the bathroom quick," I quipped, then immediately raced to the bathroom close by. I looked in the mirror. My pecs were definitely bigger. I felt them, and confirmed my suspicion: they were not only bigger, but firmer, denser. Removing the remaining buttons of my shirt, my eyes analysed my abdominals. They looked more defined. My arms looked like they were tighter around my half-sleeve, too, and, although I wasn't feeling uncomfortable yet, my trousers looked tighter around my quads. I smiled. I redid the buttons of my shirt - well, all of them except the top one, which popped earlier - and went back to the restaurant. Strangely, my massive bodybuilding friend was nowhere to be seen. When I went back to our table, there was a note: "Something came up. I paid for your meal. See you tomorrow. BLACK HULK." Something came up, huh? He's probably fondling that bitch's huge boobs right now. Oh well, he's a pornstar, after all... I wolfed down the plate that I had filled up earlier, the one I had left on the table. I was still hungry. Like, REALLY hungry. I revisited the buffet table many other times. Each time, I devoured the food like I had not eaten for weeks. After five more plates, another button popped off my shirt. I decided to undo all the buttons at this point. People were leaving the restaurant, it was getting late. I continued to relentlessly gulp down plateful after plateful of food, amid occasional tears of fabric from my short sleeves or trousers. Finally, after eating about 30 plates of food, I was satiated. Mind you, it felt like I've just eaten a salad, but, at least, I wasn't hungry anymore. I stood up to leave, when the kitchen staff manager stopped me. "Sir, you have to pay." "Uh, my friend paid for my meal already." "Yes, he did," he explained, glancing at my upper body, partly concealed by my tattered shirt, then at my face again. "But, uh, you ate much, much more food than I had ever seen in my twelve years of being head of this restaurant. So we thought that, uh, you'd pay again? It would still be a bargain for you, you know." He sounded sheepish, which was something I never got from other people before. It was as if he was afraid talking to me. "Uh, sure, I understand. Here, I'll pay twice as much as the price bill. You deserve it, the food was delicious." My hands reached out for my wallet. In doing so, my right bicep involuntarily flexed, causing my right sleeve to rip completely. The restaurant manager gulped. "No, no, no... uh, you know what, we're fine. We're glad our service was to your satisfaction. We're good. You may leave." "Take this as a tip," I insisted, handing him seventy dollars. "And I'll be sure to recommend your restaurant to my friends." "Thank you, sir. Much appreciated." He took the money and hurried back to the kitchen, relieved. I proceeded to go back to my room. People stared at me as I walked. Part of my shirt and trousers were in tatters, so I thought that's why people were staring. I arrived at my room, removed my clothes, and looked at the bathroom mirror. The reflection depicted on the mirror shocked me. I looked like a professional bodybuilder. My muscles, even relaxed, were round and hard. Nowhere close in size as those of Black Hulk, but easily as big as those of the bodybuilders from the noughties era. I looked like Jay Cutler in his prime. No wonder people were staring at me, and no wonder that restaurant manager was stuttering. I started flexing, and my muscles responded beautifully. My biceps were particularly huge, perfect peaks of muscle flesh. My pectorals were thick and heavy. My abdominals were massive and well-defined. My quads were twice as big as before, and even my cock looked bigger. I felt it grow and harden as my eyes feasted on my own, hot, muscular body. I marveled at its size... easily two inches bigger than before, both in length and in circumference, and completely hairless - like the rest of me. My balls felt fuller and bigger, too. I then noticed a bathroom scale tucked away in the corner of the hotel room. I reached out for it, and stepped on it. My eyes couldn't believe it when the needle stopped at... 260lbs. My brain was trying to comprehend my new mass. Even if I assumed that the scales were not calibrated correctly, it still meant that I had somehow gained 70lbs of mass in a few hours. Even weirder, from what I saw in the mirror, all of this mass was added to my muscles and cock, and none of it went in my body as fat. "Wow," I finally gasped. "I look incredible." But, what caused this? My mind started to recall the earlier events of the day. Then I remembered. The spasms. The cum somehow magically disappearing inside me. Black Hulk! His cum must have done this to me. I didn't mind this at all, of course. In fact, I was grateful for this gift that he gave me. But, I had to go back to his room to have some answers. Problem was, I did not know what I was going to wear. Nothing fit me. I then decided to wear the swimpants I was wearing in the pool earlier. It was still wet, so I wrapped a towel round my waist. People won't ask too many questions, seeing me like this. It would look like I was going for a late pool dip. I arrived at his room. As I was going to knock on his door, I heard muffled voices speaking inside. One of them was of a lady, and she sounded upset about something. Then I heard Black Hulk's voice, seemingly trying to calm her down and reassure her. In the next few minutes, her voice took a different tone, and she seemed much more amiable. I heard them approach the door. "My clothes still fit me," I thought I heard the lady say. "I look really hot!" "You were hot before, too," I heard Black Hulk's voice say, "only now you're even hotter." "I'm ready. Let's go," she said. I decided to knock on the door, otherwise I'd be accused of overhearing their conversation. "It's me, Kris. Am I disturbing?" The door opened. Black Hulk was wearing a T-shirt and shorts, identical to those he wore with me at the restaurants, but, this time, the colours were inverted: the T-shirt was blue and the shorts were white. Then a lady appeared, who I recognized as the woman we met at the restaurant. She looked slightly different, but I couldn't put a finger into how. "Uh, hi Kris. This is Chloe. We were just... OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?" ---------------- Chapter 4: Chloe's Transformation "I grew." I flexed a bicep. With little effort, it became as big as a grapefruit. "I grew a LOT," I continued. "And I wanted to ask YOU, man, what happened to ME, because YOU caused this." "Don't waste time, sexy," the girl who Black Hulk introduced as Chloe mused, "I have already asked him how he did THIS to ME, but he claims he does not know." With that, she lifted her dress, and I gasped. Her breasts were still really big, but now her belly was gone. Instead of it, she had a flat stomach, with visible, but faint, abdominals. Her arms looked narrower and more toned, as did her legs. "He transformed me into a fitness model," she continued, "just by, uh, having sex with me. I started to spasm uncontrollably, and when that was over, my body fat had melted, except for the fat in my breasts and butt." Wow, I thought to myself. What the fuck? "Listen, I already told you that I don't know what's happening. It's the truth," the immensely musclebound, black musclegod said. "And you - and I -love your new look, anyway." "That's besides the point. I look too hot, now, to work in any normal job. Do you think I can continue to be a journalist with a body like this?" she said. "I told you already, you can be my spokesperson. And you agreed, didn't you?" Black Hulk replied. "Yes, I did. And I'm looking forward to it. It gives me an amazing opportunity to be close to you. Although," turning to me, "Your friend Kris here is HOTTT too. Wow, look at that body!" "Thanks, Chloe, but if you're trying to seduce me, it's not working. That's not how I swing. Sorry to disappoint," I smiled. Honestly, however, she did look incredible. Perhaps I could make an exception with her... "Pity," she uttered. Then she changed the subject. "I'm starving to death here. Let's go eat something. Isn't that why we were leaving?", she said, as she lowered her dress again. "Hold on a minute," I said. "What did you say? You're hungry?" "Awfully so. I feel like I haven't eaten for an entire month," she answered. "Well, the same thing happened to me. I don't know if this super muscle god," - referring to Black Hulk - "told you, but we had steamy hot sex earlier today." I stopped, reminiscing those incredible, orgasming moments. "Anyway, my body also spasmed a bit, though only for a couple of seconds. Also, all of my body hair disappeared. Then, I started feeling REALLY hungry. I've just finished eating, actually. More than thirty platefuls of buffet food. And I could eat more, if I wanted to... after all that food, I feel like I've eaten a salad. That is how I got all these muscles." "Wait, so... if I eat, I'll grow muscles?" she mused. "Probably. Judging from what happened to me, anyway." Turning to the massive bodybuilder, I said, "that's why I came to your room, Henk, to demand an explanation." "And I don't have any," Black Hulk said. "I'll repeat what I said to Chloe. I'm as puzzled by what happened to each of you as you are. Honest to God." "So, let me get this straight. If I eat, I'll become big and muscular?" Chloe repeated. "This fitness body is hot, and I can certainly live with it. But, me being huge and buff, like both of you... I don't know if I can handle that. But... I'm SOOOO hungry, dammit!" "Look, uh, maybe it doesn't work the same way for women as it does for men" said the black, musclebound god, to try to calm down the situation. "Come on, let's go. I know of a place close by that offers huge servings; if you eat it all, you get it for free. You need to eat first, Chloe, then worry about what you look like later." "So THAT's how you solve this problem, huh?" snapped the lady. "I eat first, then worry about how I look like later?" "Have you got a better idea?" the insanely muscular hulking man answered, quietly. Then he continued, "Look, if it helps, I did not want to be this big, either. But I did become this big, and I learned to embrace my body." "What do you mean?" I interjected. "You started going to the gym to get bigger, right?" Black Hulk paused. Both my pair of eyes and Chloe's were on his. For once, we were not looking at his outrageously muscular body stretching his T-shirt and shorts to their absolute limits. Then, he broke the silence. "Would you believe me if I told you that I never set foot in any gym in my entire life?" "WHAT???" me and Chloe shouted simultaneously. "Look, man, that's simply not possible," I continued. "Nobody grows a body as huge, dense, and bulging with muscles as the one you possess without lifting stuff. Then again..." I paused, then continued, "nobody grows 70lbs of muscle in a couple of hours, either. So many weird things happened today that what you've just said could also be true!" Black Hulk nodded. "Is that how much you grew?" asked Chloe, still shaken by the events that have unravelled in the past few hours. "Yes. That's how much I grew." I answered. "I weighed 190lbs this morning. Now I weigh 260lbs." "Wow... then I will REALLY become buff, if that happens to me as well," Chloe mused. "Say, I wonder how much I weigh right now." She stepped on the scales, which, unlike those in my room, were actually easily accessible in this one. "Wow, I only weigh 145lbs. I lost 30lbs!" "Really? Then maybe that's what the spasms were doing... they were melting away your fat," I suggested. "Maybe that's why I did not spasm as much as you did, too." She was probably going to retaliate my last suggestion that she was fatter than I was with a tirade of verbal abuse, but then she felt her tight stomach rumble. "Hey, can we continue discussing this later? I kinda need food URGENTLY." "Sure. You're coming with us, Kris?" Black Hulk asked me. "I'd love to, but nothing fits me. Can I lend some clothes?" I asked. "I could, but I'm 6'4 and I outweigh you by almost 200lbs. You're only, like 5'9." "I don't mind. I can still wear something." Black Hulk rummaged in his luggage. "Here, try these," he told me after extracting a yellow, full-sleeved, shirt and black shorts. "I was going to give them to a lucky fan next Sunday. They're from my first ever Mr. O. win, when I was 380lbs. Sorry, that's the smallest item of clothing I've got." I went to his bathroom, and tried them on. They were definitely too big for me, even though I was a veritable bodybuilding specimen myself. But there was nothing better to wear. I adjusted the sleeves to fit on my body as well as possible, and came out of the bathroom. "This will have to do. Let's go." We hurried to the restaurant, which turned out to be a pizza place. The decor contained a few pictures of past Mr. Olympias. In the middle, there was a picture of Black Hulk from last year's contest, triumphantly flexing his left arm, a barely comprehensible basketball of power, and clutching the trophy with his right. Some of the other clients greeted the arrival of the man, who seemed so revered in this restaurant. The owner greeted us, too, and shook Black Hulk's hand. "Good to see you, Paul," the musclegod said to the owner. "This is Kris, and she is Chloe." "Nice to meet you all. Hope you enjoy my food! Today I've got the Black Hulk pizza. We usually serve it to a group of 6 to 8 people. If somebody of you eats it alone, he... or she... gets it for free!" "I accept the challenge," said Chloe promptly. "My, my, lady, you have a huge appetite," smiled Paul the restaurant owner. "Mind you, if you lose the challenge, you'll have to pay for the pizza. It's worth $80, but, since you're a friend of Black Hulk, I'll give you a discount." "She won't lose," said Black Hulk the person, grinning. "Me and Kris here will split another Black Hulk pizza. What do you say, Kris?" "That's fine by me," I said. "I guess we can manage that." "Cool. Two Black Hulks then! One of my servers will be right back in a moment with your pizzas!" He hurried to the kitchen. "Look, Chloe, bill's on me, so don't stress if you lose the challenge," the supermuscular hulk told Chloe, softly. "But, I'm rooting for you!" "I WILL win the challenge! I've never been so hungry! I swear if I don't have food in front of me in fifteen minutes, then I'll eat both of you alive!" She laughed at her own joke. She looked happy, and raring to go. I smiled at her joke. I was happy too. Today's events made me happy. I was grateful for today. In the space of a few hours, Black Hulk turned from a distant idol to a close friend, who gave me an incredible gift; the gift of massive muscle size. Actually, he gave me another gift: the gift of friendship. I looked at him, at that body, and smiled. Shit, looking at his magnificent, supermuscular, bulging body never gets old. My cock stirred in my pants. The pizzas soon arrive. They were indeed HUGE. They couldn't fit together on our table, so one of the servers combined another table close by to ours. The server bringing the pizzas was a girl. She gave one to Chloe and split the other one. "I'm Amanda, your server" said the girl. "I'll be making sure that none of you boys will be helping the lady with her challenge. Especially you, Black Hulk. Pleased to meet you, by the way. You are even bigger than the pictures suggest." "That's what everyone tells me. Pleased to meet you too, Amanda. I'll be a good boy; I won't help Chloe here in any way!" Black Hulk answered, winking at the girl. The moment her pizza was served in front of her, Chloe began wolfing it down. It was a bit hilarious, in a way, seeing this 145lbs, 5'7 woman eating such a huge pizza. Not only was the pizza huge, but it was also topped with lots of ingredients: pepperoni, minced meat, artichoke hearts, tomato, peas, onion, green pepper, olives, and, of course, cheese. Me and my impossibly-muscular friend started to eat ours. The pizza was, indeed, delicious. Chloe was on a mission, eating a quarter of the pizza before we had even eaten our first slice. She didn't say anything, just ate and ate and ate. Amanda, for her part, had her eyes transfixed on Black Hulk. His upper body bounced and flexed involuntarily as he ate the pizza. She saw the bulging pecs and arms, and swallowed hard. She went in a dream-like state, as if she was thinking about a raunchy situation - indeed, her face turned slightly red. "Amanda, you should keep your focus on Chloe here, you know..." the monumental musclegod told her, grinning. "Uh, yes, sure, sure, I'm completely focused on what she's doing," the girl stammered. But she really wasn't, of course. She was mesmerized by Black Hulk, the supermuscular god of male bodybuilding perfection. Chloe was already on the sixth slice of the 16-slice pizza. She had already eaten more than two person's worth of food. By contrast, I was on my third slice, and Black Hulk was on his second. I watched, fascinated. It looked like her dress was slightly tighter around her bosom and shoulders. While eating her eighth slice, there was the sound of tearing fabric. Chloe seemed not to notice, and continued eating. Glancing at her, I noticed that her dress had ripped slightly from her back. She continued to eat and eat, amid more tearing sounds of her clothes. Black Hulk only ate two slices, then said he ate enough. I managed to eat six slices; not bad, considering I had eaten so much only an hour before. Now, however, I was really full. We could only stare at Chloe eating her pizza and, seemingly unbeknownst to her, growing out of her clothes. Meanwhile, the server girl, Amanda, was barely noticing what was happening to Chloe either. She was still apparently daydreaming about Black Hulk's gigantic slabs of muscle being proudly displaying through his overstretched clothing. She couldn't stop staring at him. I saw her grinding her feet together. Wow, Black Hulk's effect on some people is so strong. But, really, I understand Amanda's reaction to him; after all, I had a similar reaction to him, and probably so did Chloe. Chloe was now two slices away from eating an entire Black Hulk pizza. Her eating rate was steady; she never once took a break. I understood better than anyone how she was doing it, since I went through the same thing a few hours before. People were now approaching our table to witness this busty 5'7 woman manage the feat set by the pizza owner. I noticed her arms were now not just toned, but there were clear biceps, and even triceps, where none were before. She was much wider, too, which was part of the reason why her dress was ripping from her back. Finally, she did it. The last morsel of the pizza was consumed. Everyone cheered. Hearing these sudden cheers, Amanda snapped to her senses, and congratulated Chloe. Sensing that her job was done, she hurried back to help with the other tables. "That's amazing, Chloe. You ate a pizza made for 8 people!" I enthused. "I... I'm still hungry. Can I eat what's left of your pizza?" she meekly uttered. I gasped. "Uh... sure, sure. That's okay with you too, right, Henk?" "Yeah, go ahead. Better not let it go to waste. I'll go to the bathroom in the meantime," said the immensely muscular man after which the pizza was named. Just then, Amanda came out with a tray of drinks for some other table, and noticed the enormous bodybuilder walking to the bathroom. She quickly served the table, then hurried to meet Black Hulk before he entered the restroom. He somehow was not surprised by her; he looked like he was actually waiting for her to meet him there. She entered a staff-only room and invited the huge musclehulk in. After a while, I decided to investigate. "What's taking Black Hulk so long? I'll go see if everything is okay," I told Chloe. Of course, I knew what was happening. I went outside the door marked 'Staff Only', and immediately I could hear moaning and heavy breathing, and an 'oh my god, you're fucking huge!'. Yeah, as I suspected, the black musclegod was making out with the waitress. I went back to my seat. Chloe was almost finished with her pizza. "You okay, Chloe?" I asked her. "Yes, Kris. I'm starting to be full. After eating this last pizza slice, I should be satiated" she said, happily. "You know that you grew, right?" I asked her, softly. "Yes, I know. I actually liked it. How my body was making my dress small. How it couldn't contain it. It felt so good. In fact, I WANTED to grow muscles." I was taken aback by this confession. Just then, Black Hulk came back, looking sprightly as usual. Amanda was close behind him, slightly red-faced, but smiling widely. I went next to my massively muscled friend. "Hey, I know what you did back there," I whispered in his ear. "Yeah, she wanted to see me without my T-shirt. I obliged. Then she grinded her pussy against my right quad until she orgasmed loudly. That's it," Black Hulk whispered back. "After what happened to you two, I'm more careful now," he continued. "Okay, I'm satisfied now!" said Chloe suddenly, chewing the last morsel of our pizza. "Thank you, Black Hulk, for the free pizza, it was delicious!" "Sure, Chloe. I guess it's time for us to go back to the hotel, then. Let's pay and leave," Black Hulk said. He winked at Amanda. She came quickly. He gave her a hundred dollar bill. Paul the restaurant owner came by, to make sure we were satisfied by the food. After assuring him that we indeed were, we left. It was late, almost midnight. Chloe's dress was barely managing to hold her visibly wider frame. I still had a million questions to ask Black Hulk. How did all of this happen? Was it true that he never went to the gym? How did he get so huge, then? Was he somehow affected by someone's cum, the way his cum affected me and Chloe? As I was pondering these things, Chloe suddenly turned to me and said, "Hey, Kris, uh, you have already gone through what I'm going through. Would you mind if you sleep in my room tonight? My room has a double bed, because they couldn't find me a room with a single bed. I... I just want to make sure that nothing happens to me, you know?" "Uh, sure, sure Chloe," I answered. Then, referring to the black, tall, musclebound bodybuilder, I continued "Good night, Black Hulk. And thank you. Today was the best day of my life." "You're welcome, buddy. See you tomorrow at 8. We have breakfast together, okay? And see you too, Chloe. I'll extend your stay a couple more nights, from my own money." And we parted ways. Chloe and I entered her room. It was almost identical to mine, except it had a double bed, as she said. Almost immediately, she removed her dress, shamelessly in front of me, and went in front of the mirror. She gasped at her new, muscular body. Actually, so did I. I'm gay, but this woman was packing so much muscle that this was actually turning me on. Then came a huge surprise. She turned round, removed her bra and her panties, and cooed, in a really sexy voice, "You've feasted your eyes on MY body. Now let me feast my eyes on that sexy bod of yours, Kris." ---------------- Chapter 5: Kris and Chloe Make Out I was taken aback. "Uh, Chloe... you know I'm gay, right?" "Tell that to the bulge between your legs, honey," she replied, pointing to my crotch. "Besides, I only wanted to see your body, not to fuck me." "Fair's fair," I said. And, with that, I removed my oversized shirt, and my shorts. These clothes had made me forget how massively muscular I had become. "Jesus, Kris, you're fucking massive." Chloe's jaws dropped. "You look even bigger than before." "Yes, that could be the case, since I ate almost half a pizza, rememb..." "Oh, shut up. I don't care. All I care about is being in this sea of bulging, sexy, thick, hard muscle." With that, she started feeling my traps, my shoulders, my pectorals. On every bodypart she felt, she moaned appreciatively. "Shit, you're built like a brick shithouse. You're so hot. You're making me so fucking horny," she murmured. This was an absolute first for me. Usually, I'm the person who says these kind of things to another man. This role reversal was unexpected. However, I felt horny, too. Really horny. This woman was turning me on so bad. Her hands traversed my abdominals, a six pack of ripped musculature, then my butt, composed of incredible, striated glutes. I slowly removed my pants. I had to. She smiled. "For a gayboy, you're really turned on right now," she laughed. "Shut up." I admit, I was hurt by her comment. "Good, I hurt your pride. That's what a real man..." she started, but I stopped her. I shoved my half-hard cock in her mouth, and forced her to suck it. Even though she was considerably strong, she was no match for my much bigger strength. "Mmmmmphmphmmphmmphmmppphh!" she complained. The more she struggled, the more turned on I got. Her eyes bugged out as my cock expanded in her mouth. Suddenly I was apprehensive, and let her go. She lashed out at me. "What the FUCK, Kris?" "I... I'm sorry, Chloe. I don't know what hit me. I swear..." "Shut up, silly. I actually LIKED that. A lot. I like it when you're rough. Hey, I can take a beating!" she smiled, as she flexed her biceps, turning them into considerable mountains of female musculature. "In fact," she continued, as she went down on her knees, "let me show you how much I liked that." She took my now hard cock in her mouth, and started to suck it, while her hands tugged at it with all her might. "God, oh GOD, yes, that's good, baby... so, so GOOD. Fuck, you're so good," I was murmuring non-stop. She disengaged her mouth. I was rock hard. My cock felt really huge and thick. Bigger than ever. Probably because it was. "Let's get to bed, honey," she cooed. We did. The double-bed creaked as it took the mass of our considerably developed bodies. I put a finger in her pussy. It was soaking wet. Chloe moaned, and bit her lower lip. "Let me be on top," Chloe whispered. "Let me ride you. I know, this must be strange for you. Sorry about earlier, calling you a gayboy. You're an incredibly handsome man with unreal muscles. You turn me on so bad. I say silly things when I'm turned on. Let me make it up to you." She plunged her soaking wet vagina on my superhard cock. It felt great. My cock felt like it was being sucked by a thousand tiny mouths. So this is what a pussy feels like, huh? I thought. Hmm, that doesn't feel half-bad. In fact, it feels fantastic. Chloe started to ride me. Her ample breasts bounced with each of her thrusts. I was never enamoured with female breasts at all, but now, they suddenly looked really hot. In fact, Chloe looked fucking hot, from head to toe. And not because she was a muscle beast. She was hot because she was a really, really sexy human being, like Black Hulk is, only in a very different way. Her moans got quicker and higher-pitched, as she neared orgasm. Wow, I thought, a woman is going to orgasm because of me? That's so hot. I saw her eyes roll backwards, then her mouth let out a really loud moan. She was in orgasmic bliss. She orgasmed hard. Her body shook all over. Her orgasm was long. It took, like, more than half a minute. All the while, she was convulsing in sexual delirium, and moaning, almost shouting, in delight. Now I'm not obviously an expert in fucking females, but I thought that this wasn't normal. Seeing her climaxing for so long because of me turned me on SOOO much, though. I couldn't believe it. My body, my power, my muscles, must have done this to her. What happened to me? Why am I fucking a woman? Why am I enjoying it so much? Before a few hours ago, my sexual fantasies always involved being with a huge, muscular guy fucking me from behind. Well, I still find that fucking hot. But now, my fantasies are also including people worshipping my muscles and sucking my long, thick, hard cock, which then fucks them hard until they orgasm uncontrollably. Yes, I want to fuck this super sexy, hot woman HARD. "Oh fuck, that orgasm was so intense... your cock is so good! God, that orgasm continued to roll and roll, like a wave... I never felt anything like it!" she enthused, when her orgasm finally subsided. "Now it's my turn, sexy!" I told her. I sat up and grabbed her from her ample back, making her huge breasts squish against my upper body. She was very muscular, but I was stronger, and could easily lift her entire body in this way if I wanted to. Then I started to fuck her, pushing my cock inside her moist pussy. She appeared to like this; her eyes closed and her mouth went slightly wide. I continue fucking her, upping my pace little by little. Soon I felt my orgasm nearing, and I started moaning, first slowly, then more frequently. She sensed my climax was near. "Shoot inside me, honey, gimme your sperm!" I did. And how. "Oh, fuck, FUCKKKK, OHHHHH I'm CUMMINGGG! OHH YESS, OHHH, OHHHHH... it's still going... OOOHHHHOOHHHOHHH SHIIITTT! Ohh god, GOD here it COMESS AGAIN HOLY SHITTT... OHH FUCKK IT'S NOT STOPPINGG! OH MY GODDDD! OHHHH GOD YESS!" I came buckets. My orgasm must have taken way more than half a minute, perhaps even a full minute. It felt so intense, so amazing, so pleasurable, so powerful. That was, undoubtedly, my most satisfying orgasm of my entire life, easily topping my three powerful orgasms I had with Black Hulk a few hours ago. "Holy fuck, that felt REALLY good! I also felt it, the orgasm coming in waves of sexual pleasure." I was almost laughing with pleasure. Chloe was also grinning widely. She disengaged my cock off her pussy. A pool of my hot, white cum poured out of her vagina. "You know, Kris, I thought 'here we go again' when you cummed inside me. Your orgasm felt very similar to Black Hulk's, both in duration and in intensity. But no, your cum was not absorbed inside me, like his did. That's... that's a relief, I guess." "It is," I confirmed. "I never came so much in my life, though. Not even close. Black Hulk must have given us more than one gift. It's not normal for your orgasms to take that long, right?" "No, it's not. It left me completely satisfied, though. It felt better than 10 of my usual multi-orgasms." Then, she looked at my body, again. "God, you're so hot. Your muscles are so thick, so bulging with power. You fucked me there like I weighed nothing to you. Even though I feel very strong myself, and weigh considerably more than an average woman." With that, she climbed out of the bed, and lifted the end of the bed, with myself on it, supporting the bed on only its two front legs. "Wow, girl. You ARE strong. I'm sure many men are incapable of doing that," I enthused. Chloe placed the bed back in its original position. "You know, that surprised even myself," she admitted. "Is there a scale here? I want to find my weight." "If this room is like mine, there should be one stowed away behind the corner of the room, near the door," I said. "Ah yes, there it is. Here goes nothing." She stepped on the scales. "180lbs. Wow, I gained 35lbs. Probably more, since this is my naked weight. Holy shit." "You know, Chloe, your body is not biologically possible," I suddenly said. "What do you mean?" "Your breasts are beautiful and large. So is your butt. On the other hand," I continued, "the rest of your body is completely devoid of fat. This is clear from how apparent are your muscles. Now, that's impossible, because, when females gain or lose fat..." "... they gain or lose it in their breasts, first," Chloe continued. "Precisely. In fact, many female bodybuilders look like men for exactly this reason. To make their muscles visible, they need to lose fat, and they end up literally without breasts. That's why some of them resort to plastic surgery to augment their breasts back. But you... your breasts are enormous, and are mostly fat, and your hips are still very female-like. That's... biologically impossible." "Another gift from Black Hulk?" "Probably. Man, I have so many questions to ask him tomorrow." I then climbed on the scales myself. "Hmm... 270lbs. I gained 10lbs from the pizza restaurant." "You know, I think I'm ready for another round of powerful sex," teased Chloe, as she rubbed my back, feeling its rippling, muscular power. And we spent the rest of the night fucking, fucking and then fucking some more. * * * My phone woke me up. It was 7:30am. Yesterday was a great day. I met two incredibly beautiful persons. I fucked them hard. The sex felt incredible, way better than the sex I perform in my porn movies. They grew after I fucked them. That's weird; that never happened with any of the porn actors. Maybe because I never orgasm inside porn actors - that's strictly prohibited in my contract. Let's hope they don't ask too many questions about that. I stretched my monstrous, black arms and climbed out of the bed. I hope Chloe and Kris wake up in time. You see, I asked the receptionist to extend Chloe's stay for two more nights before I slept yesterday, from my own money. The receptionist rejected the offer, because her room was already booked for today by somebody else. However, he arranged that Chloe switch to my room, so that it becomes a two-person room from a one-person room. I accepted this change - after all, it's cheaper too. So, after asking the receptionist for her room number, I went to tell her the news. However, I heard moans of sexual pleasure when I arrived at her door. She was probably having sex with Kris. So I decided to tell her the news when we meet for breakfast tomorrow. Suddenly, my cellphone rang. "Hello?" "Hi, is this Mr. Henk Kuria?" "Yes, speaking." "Good morning, Mr. Kuria. I'm Tony Halep from the IFBB. You have been chosen for a random doping test ahead of your participation in the Mr. Olympia contest this weekend." "Uh, okay, and what does that... entail, exactly?" I asked. "We'll need you to provide a urine sample by noon today." Shit. That's bad news. Like, really, really terrible news. "Hello? Mr. Kuria? Are you still there?" "Yes, yes, uh, Mr. ... Halep." "We can collect the sample from backstage, don't worry. The prejudging starts at 7pm, as you know, but I'm sure you were going to be here earlier... unless you do a no-show like you did yesterday for the press conference." "Uh, yes, Mr. Halep... I'll be there... at noon," I stammered. "Good. See you then, Mr. Kuria." "Uh, see you." And the line went dead. "Shit, I'm in trouble. Better wake up the others." I said to myself. I dressed quickly, feeling my monstrous, black, hyper muscles stretch the T-shirt and shorts to their limits. I paused... shit, the clothes hugging my huge muscles always feels so good. Then I hurried to Chloe's room, and knocked on her door. "Chloe, Kris, wake up. It's me, Henk." No response. I knocked harder. "Chloe! Kris! It's 8 in the morning. We need to have breakfast together, remember?" Still no response. "Come on, Kris! Chloe! Anyone! Wake up!" as I banged on the door, hoping for someone to wake up. Well, I must have hit on the door a bit too powerfully, because it suddenly gave way, and it fell into their room with a loud bang! The sound was deafening, but, strangely, whoever was inside did not budge. I decided to enter. "Kris? Chloe?" But there was no one there. Then I looked at the door, flat on the ground. There was a number written on it: 427. "Shit, I'm on the wrong floor, I should be on the fifth!" And, with that, I ran the stairs to the fifth floor, and double-checked that I was in front of the right room. 527. Good. I knocked on the door. "Chloe! Kris! Wake up! It's me, Henk." No response. "Come on, Kris, Chloe, please." Then I heard Chloe. "Uuuhhhh... can't we sleep a little more... we're tired." "It's 8 in the morning. Come on. We need to have breakfast soon." The door opened. Chloe was still naked. Her body was perfectly muscular and curvy. She was, simply, a goddess. I never saw another woman as muscular as her, not even among the female pros. At the same time, her figure was sexier than any female pornstar I fucked. She was stunningly hot and massively muscular at the same time. I entered, and closed the door quickly. A massive stink greeted me... the stink of dry cum. "Fuck... did you... holy shit, you both stink of cum." "We do. But we're gonna shower quickly," said Kris, as he woke up. He, too, was naked. He looked gloriously handsome and muscular. Certainly the second biggest muscleman in the world, second only to me. His cock rivalled mine in terms of size. "Good to see you, Black Hulk." "Wow, Kris. And I swore you were gay." "I was. But have you seen Chloe? I mean, holy shit. She's, like, perfection incarnate." "She is. And, so are you, you know." I said. "All thanks to you, man. You still haven't told us how you did it." "I'll tell you today. But first, can you shower quickly? And no more sex, for now, please. Although, admittedly, you do look like a sex god and a sex goddess." "Yeah, let's shower. But we need to buy some clothes that fit us," said Chloe, as she entered the shower. Kris followed her, and they showered and rubbed each other's bodies with soap. This, of course, turned them on considerably. They started to touch each other's sexual organs. But then they decided enough was enough for that day. They turned off the shower and stepped outside, drying in the towels. "Guys, I have a problem." I confessed. "Long story short, I need to provide a urine sample by noon." "Yeah, so? We have ample time to have breakfast, go shopping for clothes, and then go to the contest by noon," said Kris while drying off his huge muscles. "You don't understand... I cannot give a urine sample!" I told them. "Uh... why not? You didn't take... drugs, didn't you?" Chloe said, as she dried her ample breasts. "So THAT's what you didn't want to tell us, huh?" "No, no, of course I didn't," I said. "You took a diuretic this morning. Right? Is that it? Honestly, these diuretics rules are bullshit," Kris mused. "It's not that, either." "Then, what is it?" they asked, together. "Because... because I haven't urinated for the past three and a half years." ---------------- Chapter 6: The Origin of Black Hulk (Three and a half years ago.) I met Chitundu a few weeks ago. He was tall and handsome, with a nice, ripped body. I was actually slightly taller, at 6'4, but I was skinny, and weighed only 155lbs. But he liked me. We were a gay couple, in a country, Kenya, where being gay is punished harshly. I've heard of a friend going to 10 years imprisonment because they caught him having sex with another man. Another gay couple were beaten to death. Indeed, that gay couple was us. We were enjoying ourselves, in a barn. After rubbing each other's bodies and turning each other on, Chitundu penetrated my ass. It felt great, being fucked by my soulmate. But then, suddenly, the barn door burst open, and four men, armed with sticks and tree branches, started beating us left right and centre. They insulted us, calling us things like 'filthy pigs', 'homos', and 'nasty animals' as we succumbed to their beatings. Soon, I lost consciousness. When I came to, I was still in the barn, covered in blood. I tried to move, but it ached horribly. They must have broken a few of my bones. I tried to see if Chitundu was there with me. Somehow, I managed to spot him. He was motionless. "Chitundu! Chitundu!" I called him, weakly. But he didn't respond. "Help! Help us! Please! We were assaulted! Help!" I tried shouting, but my voice was feeble. I was trying hard to stay conscious, but I drifted away again. When I woke up, I found myself on a bed, in a make-shift clinic. I was alone. Somebody must have found us, and took us to some kind of hospital. I had bandages all over. "Hello? Hello?" I called. Soon, a white man dressed in white overalls came in. "Oh, you're up, thank God," he said, in an American accent. "What's your name?" "Henk. I'm Henk." I answered. "Do you have family?" "No, I don't. My parents were both from Kenya, although my Dad had Dutch ancestors. My family died in the polio plague, though, a few years ago. I live with Chitundu, the other guy. Who are you?" "You're in very bad shape," he said, ignoring my question. "You've got a broken arm, a broken leg, and at least three broken ribs. You also have countless bruises and cuts, some of which are infected, and others starting to get infected. Unfortunately, I don't have the necessary tools and equipment here to mend you adequately." "Where am I? Where's Chitundu? And who are you?" I asked him. "That's not important right now. What's important is that you're safe here, for the time being. I'll soon try an experimental cure on you. It's the only way you can heal completely, but it's never been tested on anyone." "Wait, I don't want an experimental cure!" I cried. "It's either this, or you die by the end of the week," the white guy in white overalls said firmly. "Okay, okay then. Please, I don't want to die. I've only just turned 20." "If you believe in my methods, you won't die, Henk. Trust me," the white man said, smiling faintly. "Now, I'll soon administer a rectal suppository." "What's that?" "It's medicine that is administered through your rectum... your... butthole," the mysterious white man said. "This is very modern, cutting-edge technology. I travelled from America to Kenya because my studies show that Kenyans' DNA should accept this medicine better than the DNA of any other person coming from a different country." He paused, then told me, "I need you to help me turn you over." With a lot of pain and suffering, I managed to do a quarter-turn. "That's enough. Thank you, Henk," as he produced a bullet-sized device. He quickly literally shoved it in my butt. My butt muscles accepted the device, and it was inside me. Suddenly, I started spasming uncontrollably. Each spasm was really painful, due to my broken ribs. I started shouting frantically in pain. But, after a while, the pain started to subside. Eventually, after about ten minutes of spasming, the pain had disappeared completely, and the spasms soon stopped. "How do you feel now, Henk?" the white man asked. I turned around to face him. "Much better. The pain is gone completely. In fact, I think I've never felt better." "Good, Henk, I'm glad. The experimental medicine was a success. It should have mended all your broken bones, and healed you completely." I started touching my arm, my leg, my torso. No pain at all. "Wow, it must have! It just works... just like that?" "Yes, just like that. That's the miracle of science," he said, smiling. "I'll need to keep you here for some more tests, but the initial impressions look very encouraging." I suddenly remembered my friend. "Where's Chitundu?" I asked again. The man in the white overalls sighed. "I'm sorry, Henk. He's... gone." I started crying. I lost the only acquaintance I had. "I'm really sorry," the white man tried to console me. "I couldn't do anything for him. He was already dead when I found both of you." Then I felt it. A big stomach rumble. I clutched my stomach. "Do you have something to eat... uh... Doctor?" I asked, amid tears still rolling down my eyes. "I'm hungry." "Sure. In fact, I have something better," the man in the white overalls said. "I predicted that you should feel really hungry after the medicine has performed its... uhm... magic. So I'm going to give you food through a pipe from your nose to your stomach. I'll be monitoring you, don't worry." The man motioned to a large tank, which, apparently, contained food in liquid form, and drew a thin pipe out of it. I winced slightly as the pipe got through my nose, but it wasn't that bad. The man in the white overalls switched on the tank, and that was that. "I'll be in the next room. Please, for your own safety and well-being, do not leave the room. Even more importantly, under no circumstances should you remove the pipe from your nose," the mysterious man said. "Thanks, doc, for saving my life," I told him. He smiled faintly, and left. I tried to be motionless, but soon I was getting bored. Even though I was still naked, I was, at least, covered by a white bedsheet. I started feeling a bit awkward in certain positions, so I tried to shift my body to be more comfortable. After a little while longer, I was feeling... more built? My arms were not twigs anymore, but were getting a bit more manly. My pectorals weren't practically non-existent anymore, but were filling up nicely. My stomach, which was a washboard, was now getting slight hints of abdominal muscle. I was growing muscle, at a steady pace. This wasn't stopping, either. I was getting bigger and bigger. I shifted my legs a bit further away, because they were thicker and were hitting my balls. This felt really good. My arms were now quite thick, and my biceps were now much more prominent. My pectorals were big and strong. At this point, I thought I was as big as Chitundu. But my growth did not stop. Even my bedsheets now took a different shape, due to my bulging muscles beneath them. "This feels so good," I said to myself. I felt my cock getting bigger. I was getting turned on. I started to slowly stroke it, under the bedsheets. I was surprised how huge it felt. I moaned softly to myself, as my strokes became faster. All the while, my muscles were still getting bigger and bigger; I was as big as a fitness trainer now. "God, I'm gonna cum!" I murmured to myself, so turned on by my own expanding body. And cum I did. An orgasm that soaked up my bedsheets completely, that lasted at least half a minute. I must have been moaning really loudly, because, mid-way through my orgasm, the man in the white labcoat returned, alarmed. "Oh, my, you're masturbating!" he said. "That's a relief... I thought you were moaning in pain. Oh my, that's an astonishing amount of semen... I've never seen anything like that in my life. Wow." The white man's jaw dropped. Then, when my climax had finished, he said, "Let me change your bedsheets." I had, indeed, finally done blasting cum, but I was still growing muscles. I sat up on the bedside, naked, with my increasingly muscular body now plainly visible. The man in white was shocked. "What is happening here? This is an unexpected side-effect," he said, more to himself than to myself. He hurried to change my bedsheets, and I covered myself again. "Sorry I masturbated. But, my growing muscles... feel so good," I said. "Tell me, Henk, are you still hungry?" the white man asked me. "Yes. Still hungry." "Okay. Try not to masturbate until the machine finishes its job, okay?" "Okay, doc," I sheepishly said. "By the way, my name is James, and I'm actually a molecular biologist." And, he left. I was getting turned on again. But, I resisted the urge of touching my dick. My muscles were still getting bigger. My biceps now looked as big as volleyballs. Touching them, they felt amazingly powerful and hard. My pecs were like two sacks of gravel. It was like somebody was pumping them up, inflating them like balloons. Except they were hard as diamonds, not soft and squishy. My abdominals were like six... no, eight, perfectly-placed, hard bricks. My thighs were like monstrous barrels. I was wider, too, to the point that my shoulders and biceps couldn't fit under the bedsheet anymore. Finally, my hunger was abating. James, the molecular biologist, or so he claimed to be, returned. "Hello, Henk. Everything alright?" "More than alright. I feel like a god," I truthfully answered. He switched off the machine, and removed the pipe off my nose. Almost all the liquid food inside the machine was gone. I had somehow absorbed all of that food inside me, during the past hour or so. "That's it, then. Good as new. Literally," James said. "I wish I'd keep you a little more while I do a few tests on you, to see exactly what caused this... muscular side-effect, and if other side-effects manifest themselves in due time." "Sure. I don't have anywhere to go now. Might as well stay here. And I don't have any clothes, either, so it's useless to leave," I said, matter-of-factly. James not only did a few tests on me, but treated me like a son. He bought me clothes and brought me meals. Another side-effect he noticed was that I never urinated or defecated anymore. It seemed like any food and drink intake was being completely used to sustain my body, to grow bigger muscles and to produce sperm - a lot of sperm, for that matter. He also noticed that I did not have a single hair below my neck. Looking at my skin under a microscope, he noticed that I had no hair follicles at all, from my neck downwards. His medicine must be completely focused on improving my body all the time, and it had no reasons to produce by-products like body hair and feces, he theorized. Once he was finished with his experiments, he proposed that I fly to America with him. Since I had no family in Kenya, I gladly accepted. My passport and visa took a little while to be issued, but, finally, me and James were in America. I started working in construction. My workmates were astonished by my strength and muscles. I could lift stuff with one arm that required the strength of two men. One of my workmates, Steve, was gay. He once literally threw himself on my body while I was showering. I fucked him and came all over his body. That was the first time I was the one doing the fucking, rather than being on the receiving end of a fuck. It felt so good. Steve loved it, too; he told me he was never so turned on in his life. This 'love affair' continued for a little while. After earning a bit of money, I could afford living in an apartment alone. It was hard leaving James, after what he has done to me. James understood, but asked to keep in touch. I agreed. People stared at me wherever I went. Once, a lady stopped me while walking outside my apartment, and asked me where I worked out. I told her that I didn't. "Jesus, you've got crazy genetics, honey. You should become a pro bodybuilder!" she suggested. "Bodybuilder? What's that?" I asked, curiously. The lady was surprised. Then she told me, "Google it, honey. You'll know." A minute later, she was inside my apartment, and I was fucking her senseless. She orgasmed several times, and I erupted my dick's contents all over her naked, curvy body. It was at this point that I realized that I was not necessarily gay, but that women turned me on, too. Especially women who literally drooled over my incredible, mountainous, enormously muscular black body. I did follow her suggestion. Pictures of men and women with huge muscles emerged off Google. But none had muscles bigger than mine. I dwarfed even the biggest, most muscular bodybuilder. I learnt that there were contests for bodybuilders. The most prestigious one was called 'Mr. Olympia'. I decided to take part. The IFBB were shocked by my size, so they decided to throw me in as a wildcard. Guess what: I won the contest, beating 9-time Mr. Olympia Phil Heath comprehensively, coming literally from nowhere. People started calling me 'Black Hulk', and it stuck. I became an overnight sensation. I did magazine photo shoots, interviews, documentaries... the list goes on and on. I even starred in a movie cameo. People couldn't get enough of my size. They couldn't believe that I was a 6'4, 380lbs supermuscular man with only 4% bodyfat. Men and women, young and old; everyone wanted to know about me, or drool over my hypermuscular body, or both. The photo shoots exposed something else about me: my dick, apparently, was much bigger than average. This prompted some porn houses to call me, asking if I would consider being a pornstar. I told them I'd do it, for the right price. And so my first porn movie was born, where I fucked this woman with an outrageously big, but fake, ass, called Lela Star. The camerapersons were astonished at my stamina, and how my cock stayed hard throughout the whole shoot, without me needing to take breaks or taking substances to keep my penis hard. Lela Star later confessed with me that it was the first time that she orgasmed for real, on set. I took that as a big compliment. Two hours after the porn flick shoot, I was fucking her again, in her house. My sexual stamina was insatiable; I could perform amazing sex after only half an hour of having my cum erupting from my huge dick. After the success of my first porn movie, more and more porn producers asked for my services, including gay companies. I accepted the gay porn acts too, automatically revealing to the world that I was bisexual. The IFBB called me after this, telling me that my bisexual lifestyle was 'damaging their reputation'. I told them, with contempt and disgust, that, apparently, the fact that Mr. Olympia is a pornstar does not damage the IFBB's reputation, but the fact that Mr. Olympia fucks other men does. Year after year, I continued to grow bigger muscles, albeit at a slower pace. On average, I was gaining 20lbs of muscle every year. And in 2023, as a 6'4, 440lbs ultramuscular bodybuilder, I walked in this hotel to participate in my fourth Mr. Olympia contest. * * * I ended up withdrawing from the contest, and resigning from the IFBB as a professional bodybuilder with immediate effect. That was the first thing that Chloe had to do as my spokesperson: announcing that I was not going to produce a urine sample and withdrawing from the contest, citing lack of transparency in doping tests. As a former journalist, she knew what kind of questions journalists ask, and she handled the press brilliantly. I was enormously proud of her. Although maybe, some of the journalists could have also been a little intimidated by this muscular spokeswoman... An uproar ensued, with people furious about having bought tickets for the Mr. O. to see me in action, only to see me announce my withdrawal. Most of them blamed the IFBB for their hypocritical way in which they do doping tests. In order to calm down the situation, I suggested that I could do a free posing routine after all the contestants do theirs, a routine which did not have anything to do with the contest; it was just a bit of entertainment for the public. The IFBB liked this idea, and, after negotiating the right price, I agreed to do it. I got Kris with me, backstage, of course, to 'rub oil' on my massive, bulging, huge muscles. Kris wasn't out of place among these contestants at all; he was easily as big as the biggest Mr. O. contestant there. Mamdouh Elssbiay, who most people called 'Big Ramy', came over and expressed sadness at what happened to me. He also congratulated Kris on his physique. I sincerely wished him all the best during the contest. "You know," he told me, "thanks to your withdrawal, I'm really in with a shot this year. But I'm not sure if I'll win it next year, if Kris here decides to participate." Long story short, Big Ramy did end up winning that Mr. Olympia contest for the first time. In so doing, the Mr. Olympia trophy was transferred from an African man to another African. But the plaudits went for me. The audience erupted in applause when I set foot on stage, and shouted 'Black Hulk, Black Hulk' repeatedly in support. Chloe suggested to wear my posing pants a little lower than usual, to reveal juuuuust a little cock, to spite the IFBB. After all, I was doing this just for fun, not to compete. The audience loved it. I wowed them with my physique as much as I could. As I was leaving the stage, the audience erupted and wanted more. I got back to the stage and did my customary bicep pose where my bicep inflates bigger and bigger and BIGGER. Some of the audience audibly gasped at the impossible size of my flexed bicep. Then I left the stage, this time for good. When I returned to the hotel, I was informed that the security cameras on the fourth floor detected a person of my size ripping off the door of room number 427... ---------------- Epilogue It's been four years since that Mr. Olympia contest; since Kris and Chloe received 'the gift', as we started calling it. I grew even bigger since then. Still at 6'4, I now weigh 500lbs of solid, massive, freaky, black muscle beef. I settled down with Chloe and Kris, and we three live together in my apartment. They are both incredible human specimens in their own right, not just physically, but also emotionally and, why not, sexually too. So I thought, why not? My job is now full time as a porn actor, sometimes even shooting 'amateur' footage with Kris, Chloe, or both. Life is good. Kris is now a superhuman god of muscle development. Incredibly, even though he's only 5'9, which is more than half a foot less than I'm tall, he weighs a scale-crushing 510lbs of incomprehensible slabs of immense muscle - 10lbs MORE than I do. His secret? Well, he still eats well and goes to the gym regularly - unlike me. His muscle development is really insane. The Internet calls him 'Blond Hulk', and I find it quite appropriate. Due to how much shorter Blond Hulk is than I am, his muscles appear much, much bigger than mine. Of course, sex with him is as insanely hot as his muscles, if not more. Recently, he fucked me, rather than vice-versa, and then I fucked him back. It's good to finally have someone with the necessary muscle to fuck Black Hulk; I kinda missed the feeling of being fucked from behind. Kris never competed as a professional bodybuilder, partly because the IFBB dissolved itself a year ago. More on that later. Chloe is also an incredible muscle specimen. She now weighs 225lbs, which, on her 5'7 frame, is really quite a sight to behold. Her muscles are really dense - probably denser than mine or Kris'. She's still got two magnificent orbs of breastflesh jutting out of her pecs, and her biologically impossible hourglass figure is still definitely eye-turning. She's still my spokesperson - now for my porn endeavours, though. People call her 'Curvy She-Hulk' online... I kinda like it! Of course, our lives does not revolve solely into having just us three as sex partners, fucking each other. Part of why we're in this porn business is our extremely sexual lifestyle. We cannot do otherwise; 'the gift' forces us to have frequent sex, or, at the very least, masturbate often. When Kris, Chloe or I go out to eat alone, or go to buy some new clothes, or whatever, it's not unusual that one of us picks some hot guy or girl and give him or her a bit of sexual bliss. If we really like the person, Kris or I ensure that we orgasm inside their pussy, or butthole, thus giving that person 'the gift', slowly turning them into a veritable god or goddess - just like I did to Kris and Chloe four years ago. Interestingly, we recently discovered that Chloe can also give 'the gift' to her sexual partners. It turns out that her ample breasts ooze out a liquid when she's sexually excited, which, when drunk by a person in the right amounts, gives 'the gift' to that person. This allows Chloe, like us, to give 'the gift' to both sexes. We three are, of course, all bisexual. Indeed, that's one other side-effect of 'the gift', we learned - it turns that person bisexual, no matter what sexual orientation he or she leaned to prior to receiving 'it'. Slowly, 'the gift' started to become more widespread. People receiving 'the gift' - which we started calling 'gifters' - of course, fucked other people, due to their heightened sexual desires, spreading 'the gift' like wildfire. Many people, males and females, started becoming hugely muscular humans literally overnight. The professional bodybuilders training night and day in the gym simply couldn't compete anymore. This prompted the IFBB to dissolve bodybuilding as a sport for good. Moreover, the ideal female body perceived by the world at large slowly started shifting to the one that Chloe, and all female 'gifters', possessed. And James? We did decide to meet James, to ask him to study the process of how 'the gift' works. While doing so, James became totally obsessed with Chloe's incredible beauty, and - long story short - he received 'the gift' himself from her. One aspect of 'the gift' that was puzzling James was pregnancy - or lack of. The amount of semen produced by male 'gifters' was about 10 times as much as normal males did, and female 'gifters' had the perfect, ideal vaginal shape to accommodate these males. Moreover, the sperm count of male 'gifters' was astonishingly high, at around 800 to 1000 million sperms per millilitre, with close to 100% rapid progressive sperm motility. Female 'gifters', on the other hand, ovulated more frequently than non-'gifters', and did not have periods. In spite of all this, it seemed like male 'gifters' were incapable of impregnating female 'gifters' at all. After studying this anomaly for long, James finally managed to crack this mystery too. Incredibly, male 'gifters' couldn't impregnate female 'gifters' alone; there needed to be the semen of TWO different male 'gifters' in the vagina of a female 'gifter' for pregnancy to happen. This was confirmed to be true when me and Kris impregnated Chloe the same night that James made this discovery. Our family is expecting our first child; the first child in the entire world that will have two Dads and one Mum. Will we tell the story of our child, and of our future children, in the future? Who knows... time will tell. THE END

This is my first go at writing a story. If anyone has any feedback (good or bad), please feel free to comment. This chapter is more scene setting than sex. But I promise, there will be plenty of it. I've got a few ideas stored up. CHAPTER 1 I was nervous when I first went to his door. I was nervous every time I went to his door. I had met internet hookups before, but this was different. This guy seemed to have something more than a simple fuck in mind. Something I said had sparked his interested. His one pic was hot. Really hot. It didn’t even have his face, it was just his left pec, shoulder and arm reaching across his body. The way the muscles were flexed and defined emphasised their size. I wouldn’t normally message a guy with only one picture available, but that picture had me hard as soon as I saw it. When I messaged him he didn’t ask to meet for a fuck straight away (unlike 95% of the other guys on that site). We’ve been messaging for weeks now and it’s finally happening. I got a taxi to the address he sent me. It dropped me off outside a large, victorian, terraced house in Glasgow’s Westend. I didn’t even know houses like this existed here. I was use to the ageing student flats close by. These were much better cared for. He had given me instructions. I was to arrived at 10pm. I was a little early, so I waited outside. The storm door was unlocked, so I let myself in to the small porch, closing the door behind me. To the left of the main front door, was a narrow door flush with the wood paneling. As instructed, I opened it to find a small cupboard. I assumed most houses would keep their wellies, and umbrellas in here. But this cupboard was empty, save for a shoebox on the floor with the word “Open” written on top of it. Inside the box was a white jockstrap, size small, a key and a note saying: “Take off your clothes and shoes. Put on your jock strap. Come stand in the hall and don’t speak until instructed.” My heart was beating so hard I could hear my pulse. I felt my stomach constricting and was pleased I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. I took a few deep breaths and took off my shirt. I was doing this. I could best be described as skinny. I thought I might have filled out a bit more when I entered my twenties, but it never happened. I had a visible six pack due to my low body fat, you couldn’t see my upper ribs, but there wasn’t much muscle there. I guess that’s one of the reason I find muscle so attractive. I removed my shoes, socks, jeans and briefs, placing them all in the cupboard and retrieving the plain white jockstrap. I’d never worn one before, and I was so nervous I put my leg in the wrong bit first time round. But once on, and the straps adjusted, I looked at myself as I ran my hands down from my chest to my balls, and then round to my exposed arse cheeks. It felt good and despite the lack of a mirror, I was pretty sure I looked good too. I used the key to unlock the front door and let myself in. It was strange letting myself in to someone else’s house, let alone doing it near naked. The hall was almost square, with tall ceilings and four rooms coming off of it: two doors on the right, two on the left. There was a large mahogany sideboard up against the back wall holding a vase of flowers, and above it hung a large, grand mirror. I could here muffled music coming from the ajar doorway at the far right corner of the hall. I daren’t venture in so I took up position in the centre of the room. I adopted a military ‘at ease’ pose, with my legs spread, and hands clasped behind my back, my heart still thumping against my chest. The room was pleasantly warm, so the slight tremble I had was through nerves rather than cold. After only a few minutes the music shut off, and I heard movement in the next room. The door opened and out stepped a god. A large white towel was wrapped around his waist, covering his legs down to his thick calves. His torso was the most erotic thing I have ever seen in real life. His skin was tanned and still glistening with moisture from the shower. The grooves between each abdominal mound - deep enough for me to get my fingers in and grab hold of each one - channeled little water droplets as they formed, running down past his navel to be absorbed by the towel. His powerful chest overhung this perfect abdomen. And it was flanked on either side by a pair of thick lats, impressive even though they were stretched as he dried his hair with a second towel. I could feel my cock thickening and pushing against the material of the jock. I must have taken a loud breath, or said something, because the god stopped in the doorway, dropped one arm and shifted the towel away from his face. He caught my eye and smirked. He walked in to the hall and leant against the sideboard, his right hand continuing to rub his dark hair. “On time and following instructions. We might get along.” His voice was deep, and although his accent wasn’t Glaswegian, it was certainly Scottish. I didn’t know if this counted as an invite to speak. I stayed silent, partly out of fear of upsetting him and having the encounter cut short; partly from not trusting my mouth to form words correctly. He continued to look at me straight in the eyes, as if sizing me up. A dozen, rapid, thumping, heartbeats passed and he stood up, leaving the secondary towel on the sideboard. He took a few steps towards me and stopped so that he was just out of arms reach, brought his hands together at hip level and flexed his chest. He could have crushed an apple in between those massive pecs. His shoulders ballooned out and the light catching on the still damp skin highlighted every groove of his deltoids. I had never experienced someone flex for me before... no one with anything decent to flex anyway. Not only did he have the size, but he knew what hew as doing as well. This was obviously not the first time he had shown off like this. I knew I wanted to step forward and start touching him, but I was hypnotised into motionlessness; only my eyes roving over his hard, gargantuan body. He brought both arms up into a double bicep pose. My gaze traveling from one peak to the other. His frame looked enormous as he held that pose, his lats spreading like a cobra’s neck, tapering down to his tight waist. All angles directing me to the bulge underneath the towel. I looked back to his face. His ice blue eyes were staring directly at my own. His grin revealed that he was enjoying how much I was enthralled by his display. He took another couple of steps forward, and that’s when I realised just how tall he was. I am a mere 5’5”, below average by any standard. My eyes were in line with this man’s chest. He must have been about 6’4”! He continued to make his slow advance until my nose was between those two mounds of powerful muscle. “Do you like what you see so far?” I looked up at him, towering over me. His face looking down at me, his left eyebrow raised, waiting for my answer. “I...I...” I stammered, “YES!” In my panic to say something my answer came out far too loudly. The god’s smile grew and he gave a single “ha,” as his chest heaved, almost touching me. I exhaled loudly, causing goosebumps on his sternum. “I hadn’t realised you’d be quite so short.” I couldn’t think what to say. I hadn’t realised how big this guy was going to be, or how dominant. Despite being mocked about my height all my life, and having witty retorts for almost any insult, I couldn’t think of anything for this situation. After all it had only been a statement. I started trying to form a response but just mumbled as my cheeks flushed red. The Goliath thrust both hands into my armpits and picked me up as if I were a doll. My hands at that point were still clasped behind my back. I immediately brought them round and grabbed hold of his arms to steady myself before I could register what was happening. “I shouldn’t have to pick you up to hear you. A lad so short should be use to making himself heard.” He held me in the air, almost a foot off the ground: his elbows at the same height as his shoulders, his arms bent at ninety degrees. His massive deltoids were flexed, but not struggling. His biceps... holy fuck my hands were on his biceps. I looked at my right hand, then back to those blue eyes. He winked. My breath shuddered as I took in this moment and squeezed my hands around his thick, bulging upper arms. My fingers gripped on to one of the tricep heads, whilst my thumbs tried to make an impression on his biceps. I couldn’t. I grew confident of his hold on me and started to run my hands slowly over his arms and shoulders, exploring them with my fingertips and palms. This was it. This was the reason I had come here tonight. He had promised I would get to feel power and strength like never before, and here it was. My heart rate increased, and I could feel the jock strap straining against my erection. “Fucking hell, this is unreal.” The first clear sentence I had made since entering his home. “My skin is drying out. How would you like to help rub in some oil?” He asked whilst placing me back on the ground. “I’d like that very much... Sir.” He cocked his head slightly to one side, giving my an approving look. He reached down, and pulled at one leg strap on my jock. “You’re a natural at this, Wee Jock.” He let the elastic go, slapping against my arse. “I like my guests to call me Sir.” With that he turn and walked back in to the room he had come from. I stood still, marvelling at the breadth and taper of his back as he walked away. “Follow me, Wee Jock.” “Yes, Sir!”

Long time lurker - finally got my fingers down to write a story, and hopefully many more to come. Posted in WarpMyMind (leejhaw) and MuscleGrowth.org (shawnkid). -Chapter 1- Meet Charles "Sup," my roommate nonchalantly greeted me as he walked out his room. My eyes almost fell out of its socket. The reason is apparent - my body-conscious roommate is walking around half naked. Beneath his grey sweatpants, his VPL proves that he's freeballing too. That could only mean one thing - it worked. What I did actually work! It's true - some of us are more susceptive to hypnosis. And it comes in many forms, you have the usual suspects: binaural, subliminal, and the trance, which opens up a wide array of possibilities, especially for a closeted gay man like me. It's financially impossible to live in the city nowadays, especially when the rental is through the roof. Since I'm the only occupant in the one-room studio, it's natural to resort to renting out the room to another person to offset the cost to enjoy the convenience of the centrally-located apartment in the city. The first time I met Charles, he wasn't much of a looker. I blame it on his hair, which is in need of serious professional help. He was wearing an oversized t-shirt that did not do justice to a man of his size. He works at the local coffee shop down the road, which explains the coffee scent in his hair whenever he walked past me. I reckoned he's around 25 years old, though I did not actually ask. He promised to clean the entire place once a week, I couldn't be any happier. Truth to be told, I was kind of desperate, and he looked decent enough - at least he has a job - so we shook on a deal. When I stumbled upon the whole new concept of hypnosis, I was thrilled. But, how would I know if it truly worked if I have done so on myself? It wouldn't take anyone much to consider the case of convenience, right under the same roof. I went to the local hardware shop and bought some speakers and downloaded some audio software on my computer. It wasn't easy to get this figure out, but I was really eager to try. When Charles left for work at 7 am, I set my plan in motion. I equipped his room with speakers over the plastic ceiling and wired it across my working desk. So, it would play whatever I needed it to play for an extended period of time, albeit needing to run in and out just to check if the volume is optimal for subliminal tracks to play without causing any distress and potential fallout before the plan see the day of light. I move quickly, knowing that he will come back in the evening after dinner. And the rest will happen throughout the night. My moral conscience would reprimand me if I ruin one's life for my own pleasure. So I decided to start off my experiment with something light. After going through tons of hypnosis books, I attempted to write a hypnosis track that focuses on confidence and preferences. Charles would sleep naked because it's more energy efficient as such - less laundry and less electricity needed to keep cool. He would be more comfortable with his own body, and perhaps begin pay attention to his body more. That should be relatively fine and not qualified as manipulative? I have my doubts, especially on my ever-changing standards. Heh - oh well. I let the track run for a week until one faithful morning - I see my roommate walking out of his room with nothing over his bare torso. I must say, he definitely look better with his shirt off. Why would he hide his toned body over all the baggy shirts - and that would be the next thing to go. And now I know my proof of concept works. I sat back down on my computer and prepared the next script for my dearest roommate, Charles.

Hi all, this is my first bash at putting up a story. Part 1 is a little on the short side, but serves as the introduction. I write primarily for fun, but enjoy the process (when writer's block doesn't strike, that is) - so any and all feedback is very much appreciated. Part 1: The Hunger He can't stop growing. Not that he wanted to, of course. He was addicted. It always ends up that way. The hunger is dormant at first, biding its time. Like many appetites (or should I say addictions?), it requires a trigger - a first taste. That first taste of muscle is like nothing else after; it stays with him forever. Often it’s a cartoon, featuring some character growing more muscular. Depending on the when he first imbibes, it may not even arouse him...merely intrigue - fascinate - him, for reasons he can’t yet grasp. But the hunger is awakened, and over time it starts to make itself known. Almost subconsciously, he will begin to seek out more. The hunger is insidious, and insatiable. Inevitably, it enslaves them. With each indulgence, it only grows more voracious. Stories of growth are joined by videos of bodybuilders; but the hunger soon demands more. He then joins a gym, and starts to grow, clothes tightening and giving way. Yet still the hunger is not satisfied. Each fall, deeper and deeper into the addiction, is easier to stomach than the last. It starts becoming easier to embrace the hunger. At first he resists the allure of steroids, but that resistance falters when the growth slows. As it happens, the ones who resist tend to perform the best; those who give in early often self-destruct, which just cuts short the pleasure. Inevitably, he succumbs to the promise of more, and faster, growth. Another fall. It will be followed by more - stacking numerous drugs, again and again. By this point, the hunger is all that’s left. Day and night revolve around feeding it. Such an innocent beginning. Such a glorious end. *** He is wanking furiously, pleasuring himself with dreams of enormity. His pecs - heaving as he grunts and groans - are so bloated he can’t reach his arm around to properly grasp his cock, forcing him to violently buck his hips. The chair is smothered by his mass, and creaks ominously with each thrust. His grotesquely swollen body glistens with sweat from the exertion (it’s hard work moving that much mass), filling the screen through which I watched him. He is monstrous. He is beautiful. His face - which looks comically small and awkwardly placed atop his body - is the sole remaining physical hint of what he once was. Boyishly handsome, dirty blond hair and brown eyes. Even contorted in pleasure - as much mental as physical - he remains handsome. That face is all that’s left of the days when he was a mere 120lbs at 5’7”. Today, he tipped the scales at 287lbs. I gave him a smile, to show I was happy with how far he’d come. “You’ve grown into quite the big boy!” I comment. He thrusts and groans as he hears my compliment. Something in the chair breaks. His shoulders are too broad to fully fit in the screen, and with each stroke of his hand striations ripples across the deltoid heads. His arms are swollen with power, each the size of his head, with the intersections of the deltoids and biceps etched in stone. My mouth salivates at the sight of them. Below the pec shelf, so heavy it sags, comes his rock-hard abdomen, with eight thick abdominal blocks carved in splendid relief, as if my a master sculptor. Framing his engorged manhood are splayed quads thicker than my waist (by several inches), the hugely overdeveloped heads of muscle flexing slightly with each buck of his hips. Between his moans - and dreams of being so much bigger - he manages to whisper: “More...please, more…” I cock my head teasingly, pretending not to have heard him. In truth, though, his question has deeply affected me. Tears almost come to my eyes. I can’t help but admire the hundreds of pounds of perfect, beautifully overgrown muscle desperately fighting for space on his tortured body. He has pushed it hard, punishingly so...but it did the only thing it could do: balloon, and balloon, and balloon, with muscle. He can easily go further. How much further? I don’t know. But we both want to find out. Poor boy. So desperate, and oh so so hungry. He’s gone so far. “Please!” he pleads, he begs, between frantic thrusts. His eyes crying out to me. “Make me bigger!” It’s curious. He knows he’s a freak, a monster. And yet, he doesn’t. He sees the great mountains of muscle he has grown, but doesn’t quite comprehend them. He never thought he could come so far, but he cannot imagine stopping now. It’s a vicious - or perhaps virtuous, depending on your viewpoint - cycle. Growth simply spurs the desire - the need - for more. A feedback loop of transitory pleasure. Each fix sets the stage for the next. It does not end. But that is what makes it oh so glorious. I smile again, a tear flowing this time. Such a beautiful, eager boy. He is a wonder to behold. “I think that can be arranged,” I reply. He explodes.

--

(Continued from part 1) I stood in the bathroom doorway, feeling my huge muscled body become warm as Anthony gaped in awe from his bed. Anthony’s hunky form was now tiny compared to my immensely built figure, which towered a whole head above him. He eagerly looked me up and down, his eyes pausing hungrily at the outline of the massive package in my briefs. “Whoa, Adrian,” he finally managed, swallowing wetly. His dick became hard in his camo lycra underwear, and he began to rub it slowly. “You like it?” I said, smiling cockily. I walked in front of where he was sitting, and he placed his left hand on my huge chest. “Oh yes,” he responded, sliding his hand over my abs in amazement as he stroked his dick over his briefs. He slowly stood up and ran both hands over my body with a grin, and then began licking my pecs and abs with his long, juicy tongue. “Ohhhhh...” I groaned in pleasure as his soft lips enclosed my hard nipple, and I started flexing vainly. He moved down my body until he reached my briefs, nuzzling the thick cock inside playfully with his tongue. My soft 13 inch dick dripped cum that seeped through the briefs, and Anthony happily lapped it up. He pulled down my briefs, unleashing the enormous floppy monster, which he immediately started licking, running his saliva from base to tip over and over again. I lied on my back on the bed, and Anthony followed, crawling over me with his butt in the air like a submissive twink. He opened his mouth wide and grabbed my giant throbbing meat with two hands. Repeatedly, he throated my horse cock, each time getting it further in. ”Ohhhh fuck yeah!” I yelled, and grabbed Anthony’s spiky-haired head, moving it up and down, feeling the sticky, wet, amazing heat that emanated from my cock fill my entire body. Sliding my still soft drool and cum-covered dick out of his throat, I powerfully grabbed his toned hips and flipped him over so that his thick ass was facing me. I instantly tore his underwear off and stuck my tongue into his hole, licking the rim of his pussy in delight. My cock was getting harder, and was now almost 17 inches, red and covered in pencil-thick veins. I plunged the monster into the gaping hole before me, feeling the hot flesh enveloped by Anthony’s body. He cried out in delight, jerking off his own cock as I thrusted and pulled my immense meat in and out of his hole wetly, its length increasing in full to two feet hard. Impossibly, my whole dick fit entirely inside of Anthony as unimaginable pleasure rolled through my core. “Unnnnnhhhhh!” I moaned, thrusting in and out and in and out and in, back and forth and back and forth. Feeling myself about to unload, I couldn’t bring myself to take my cock out. It was too fucking good. This one was going to be much bigger than the first, I could tell, as I felt cum rushing to the head of my monstrous dick. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!” I shouted, and then my giant fucking cock exploded with cum, spewing and spurting it into Anthony, who was violently jolting, his eyes pointing up and his mouth wide open. “YESSSS!” he cried out, clenching the bedsheets tightly as his body filled with my sticky warm cum. Suddenly, he began to undergo a transformation, his muscles pulsing and bulging out, his already hunky body becoming even more jacked. His cock swelled and extended with each stroke, and his ass popped beautifully forth with my dick still inside. “Holy fuck!” I cried, realizing the serum I drank must have transferred into my cum, and that I had just given Anthony a full dose of it. I pulled my cock out of his ass, letting my heavy wet meat fall back down with a loud slap against my legs. I was even more surprised when I realized that I had shrunk a little, my cock no longer reached past my knees, but hung instead just above my knees. My muscles were still athletic, but they weren’t monstrous, like Anthony’s, which had swollen into the huge hulkish body I had previously. Anthony and I had traded muscle. “Hey!” I cried angrily, as Anthony looked at his new muscles in the mirror. “You stole that body from me!” “I didn’t try to do that,” he responded, tugging at his massive cock gleefully. “At least you aren’t as skinny as before. Look.” He pointed at my body, which was as hunky as Anthony was before. My dick was still at least 10 inches soft, and I was perfectly toned. My muscles were big, without being awkwardly huge, so I looked like an underwear model. Because of my reduced muscle size, I could now fit into my clothes, and although they were tight, they revealed my muscles attractively. My arms and shoulders were hugged closely by the shirt, and my pants bulge was mouthwateringly bouncy in my gym shorts. My perky pecs and stone-hard abs were visible under my red t-shirt, which was now a little too short but showed off my amazing v-lines perfectly. Anthony, however, was unable to fit into any of his clothes. “What am I supposed to do?” he asked, rummaging through his underwear drawer, which was filled with speedos, thongs, and jockstraps. “I don’t know,” I responded, shrugging, “maybe you could find someone with extra large clothes and “borrow” them.” “I can’t leave this room!” he said exasperatedly, trying on a tank top that ripped instantly. “You’ll have to do it for me, Adrian.” I paused and tried to think of someone who had extra large clothing. “Hey,” I said, “what about the gym coach? I heard that he’s basically a bodybuilder.” “Good idea,” Anthony answered as a speedo snapped beneath the weight of his engorged horse cock. The next day, I entered the locker room determined to bring Anthony one of the gym coach’s outfits, and I ran into a familiar, stupid face. Jason Tyler, who I now looked slightly down at, bumped into me as I made my way toward the coach’s office. “Hey, idiot! Watch where you’re-“ he began to say, but stopped as soon as he realized it was me. “Adrian? What the fuck?” He looked astoundedly at my physique, which now exceeded his in almost every way imaginable. “How the hell did-“ “Get out of my way, Jason,” I said firmly, pushing him aside with an effortless swat of my hand. I continued heading toward the gym coach’s office, but Jason confronted me again. “Wait a goddamn second!” he shouted furiously. “You can’t just shove me like that, I’m-“ I cut him short by pulling his shorts down, revealing a very hard dick. One of his friends who was watching said “What the hell, Jason. Are you fucking gay?” With bright red cheeks, he said “No! Stop it! I’m fucking like five girls at the same time! Shut up!” I stepped on his pants to prevent him from pulling them up, and whipped out my 10-inch cock, saying “Who’s got the better dick now, Jason?” He gawked at my dick, a small trail of saliva falling from his mouth. “Fuck...” he said slowly, and as his friends walked away, I grabbed his shoulder and shoved him into a nearby bathroom stall and locked the door behind me. Instantly, he began to suck my cock, his lips moving quickly back and forth over my long shaft. I ran my fingers through his wavy blond hair, feeling his fleshy throat and his quivering tongue repeatedly sliding across my meaty cock. I laughed with delight when I saw that he was already cumming, and before I shot my load I decided to stop. Jason wasn’t worth it, and I wasn’t about to let him steal my hot body from me. I squeezed my cock back into my incredibly snug shorts, and pushed Jason out of the stall, where his friends were waiting to laugh mercilessly at him, as they had heard everything and seen under the stall doors. As Jason fumed from the locker room, hounded by his cronies, I walked over to the coach’s office. I knocked on the door, and heard a loud baritone voice gruffly boom “Come in!” I opened the door to find the coach sitting in a chair with his back to me, pumping a dumbbell with his left hand, his huge bicep expanding like a balloon with every flex. “Hey, um, coach,” I began nervously, intimidated by the sheer size of his bicep. ”Call me Coach Tyler,” he bellowed back, setting his dumbbell on the ground and rising to his full, nearly 7 and a half foot height. I gulped, trembling with fear, when suddenly it dawned on me; Jason was Coach Tyler’s son. I was in big trouble. (To be continued)

The following is a written adaptation of the story drawn by @SuperWaffle and has been agreed in advance with me to add the words. Each chapter will relate to each of the panels as drawn by him Chapter One "You wanted to see me, Prof?" As Tim, one of the college's best basketball players entered the lecture hall where the professor had asked to see him, he was instantly struck by the lack of a professor. "Prof? Are you hiding behind that desk again with another big fat F?" Tim wasn't the smartest person in the college, after all his scholarship was a sports scholarship, but he knew that unless his GPA went up a little his place was at risk, hence the belief that the prof was about to spring another F on him, but as he walked towards the desk at the front of the lecture hall, there was no one else there, save a flask full of a bright, green liquid. Tim looked at it for several moments pondering whether this was a wind up by Hank, his best friend and amateur lightweight bodybuilding champ for the last two years, or whether this was a test by the professor he had been asked to see. Thinking it was the latter and this was a test, he fell back on the little science knowledge he knew Chapter Two "I am examining a flask containing an unknown liquid" he declared, hoping that the professor was hiding and taking notes. "The liquid is bright green and therefore might contain copper. My first assessment is that this is a flask of copper chloride, the green colour being caused by a high concentration of negatively charged chlorine ions". As Tim continued to look at it, he hoped that his bluffing would pay off. He didn't know one end of an ion from the other, but knew the next thing was to smell the chemical so popping off the lid he smelled it. "OH, GOD!" he declared, "THAT IS RANK!" However, just seconds later, Tim froze in place. He could feel something happening to him. His entire body seemed to be unable to move, demonstrated by the lid of the bottle falling to the ground where it smashed. Slowly, the sensation eased, but as it did Tim looked at his hands. Was it his imagination or were they fractionally bigger than they had been a few seconds ago?

Incredible! I love a muscle overload! Can’t wait to see how they use Wee Jock next :)!

I kind of imagine him to be even more handsome than Zach!

What a come back.

Ohhhhh, if I imagine Woody looking like that, then I am a goner. Merkel puts me in orbit.

Chapter Sixteen (for convenience, Hank's viewpoint is in normal typeface Tim's is in italics) No sooner had Tim drunk the contents of the flask that he froze, the flask smashing on the floor as it dropped. Hank looked concerned as Tim's eyes glowed green wondering if his friend was still there "YEAH!" screamed Tim as his imagination propelled him into a fantasy world like never before. He found himself in the presence of his heroes, all of whom were completely naked and covered in a sheen of sweat. He-Man, Hercules, Conan, Captain America, Wolverine, they were all there and all beckoning him to join them. As he approached them it was He-Man would held his hand and said in a voice that made Tim cum, "Welcome to the Muscle Club, Tim, time for your initiation!" Hank couldn't believe what he was seeing. Tim was not only growing taller, but he was packing on muscle at an incredible rate. Indeed, it was only a matter of moments that he stood as tall as the chalkboard (fifteen feet) and his arms were as thick as his cock Chapter Seventeen "You're a man now, Tim" said Wolverine as he started to rub Tim's cock, "and a man needs to know what is needed from a man!" "Aye" declared Conan and Hercules, as they manhandled Tim's legs onto a table and restrained them with leather manacles "And do you know what is needed from a man?" asked Captain America, strapping Tim down with a belt across his waist "Resilience" replied He-Man as he restrained Tim by his wrists with more leather manacles and as they stepped back they all called "Oh, Porthos, he's ready!" Tim's cock was now back to its erect form and as Hank watched part of him wanted to experience what he knew was going to happen for himself "Greetings, o man" chuckled Porthos as he approached the restrained Tim, "you wish to become a man then?" Tim's moans as he nodded his head caused everyone to chuckle "Then you shall have your wish!" and with that placed a helmet on Tim's head and as he started to attach wires to the helmet, his nipples, cock and balls, the other started to stand around him. When they had finished positioning themselves, Porthos described what he was going to do. "Your nipples will be attached to Conan's nipples who will be attached to Hercules's nipples. They will teach you what it means to experience nipple stimulation, your cock is attached to Wolverine's cock, who else can teach you about the power of the male organ, your balls are attached to the balls of Captain America who will teach you stamina like never before, I am now attaching the helmet on my head to the helmet on yours so that you can understand the mind of a man and He-Man, well, he's the spark and with that nodded to He-Man who picked up his sword from the ground and held it aloft. "Do you wish to lean what it means to become a man?" asked Porthos "Yes" moaned Tim, as he started to pre cum, "Yes, Yes, YES!" "By the power of Greyskull" roared He-Man and as the bolt of lighting engulfed He-Man he lowered the sword and aimed it at Tim's chest and declared "You have the POWER!" and sent it surging into him "YYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSS!" roared Tim as he came with such force that compared to the last time he came, this was a river. It was so powerful that it just carried on and on and on leaving Hank stunned in amazement that a single man could produce so much in a single shot. Chapter Eighteen "Yes" screamed Tim at the top of his voice, as he could feel the essences of the men entering him, "Never make it stop!" Hank's eyes grew so large as the mass in front of him just carried on growing. He wasn't Tim any more,. he wasn't even Mega Tim, Super Tim, Ultra Tim, he was a literal god. A god with a cock that was almost as long as he was tall, a cock that... Suddenly Hank realised that Tim's cock was aiming at him and as another bout of growth hit Tim causing his head to hit the roof, Hank realised what could happen. Chapter Nineteen "I...can....take....it" panted Tim as the men around him with the exception of He-Man slumped to their knees, their sexual energies being drained into Tim, taking him into a literal god of man. The pain he was experiencing was like nothing else, but he didn't want it to stop and so screamed "Keep...it....cumming!" As Tim's cock came to within an inch of his nose, Hank knew what was going to happen and preparing himself accepted his fate "I....AM.....ULTRAMAN!" screamed Tim and broke free of the restraints showering all the heroes around him in cum Tim's cock exploded sending Hank to the far end of the theatre, a full forty feet from the desk where he was standing. "AND I AM ALL POWERFUL!" roared Tim as he orgasmed. Chapter Twenty "And I am all powerful" moaned Tim as his eyes started to open as they did, Hank managed to recover from his position. As he cowered behind one of the many chairs in the room, his eyes beheld a sight that his brain instantly processed and unable to help himself he commentated. "Tim" he breathed, "you are all powerful. Forty feet tall, taller than this theatre, sixteen thousand, three hundred and fifty pounds of solid, unbelievable, male, muscle. Your chest is two hundred and seventy two inches, a one hundred and thirty six inch waist, one hundred and fifty inch quads, one hundred and thirty one inch biceps, one hundred and forty four inch calves and a cock that stretches for over ten feet. Oh, Tim, I have never said this before, but if I don't say it now I will forever regret it. Tim, I'm gay, I have always been gay and...I want to marry you!" As Tim sat on the desk, the only thing in the room able to support his glutes, his cock started to pre cum again as if to reply "Then marry me, marry me and become the second most powerful man on earth!"

Ah, yes. That fellow has a sufficiently twat-faced look to him--hot in his way but hardly in Seb's league. Not exactly the pocket-rocket I was expecting but I endorse the vision completely and look forward to seeing what kind of trouble he creates for our heroes and himself.

If he looks like I think he looks, I'm not picky who you put him with!

Chapter Six For the first time in nearly five minutes, Tim was able to feel the power surging through his new muscular body. He could feel his pecs twitching, the nipples moving up and down every time they did, his abs, all six of them, appearing and disappearing as he breathed. His biceps, akin to boulders even in an unflexed state. His quads, bigger than any quads in existence, his calves like bulls, his cock... As he handled the mass that was making his briefs bulge, his excitement faded. He was bigger, stronger and more powerful than any man alive, so why was his cock not joining in the party? He knew, thanks in part to be a phallusphile (a branch of muscle worship where the penis was the centre of the attention), that the longest cock in the world belonged to Jonah Cardeli, or Jonah Falcon as he was better known in the porn industry, Jonah Falcon, whose mighty member was 13½ inches hard. True, the mass in his briefs had to be as least that big now, but that was soft, he wanted the mightiest of mighty members to reflect his body being the mightiest of all men. It was then he had a brainwave. If the flask's contents had made him muscular and large when soft just by catching a whiff, what would happen if he took a deliberate sniff? So, picking up the flask with one hand and pinching his nose with the other, he brought the flask to his nose, removed his fingers and breathed in. Chapter Seven "OH FUCKING YES!" he roared as he could feel his desires coming true. He could feel his cock surging against his briefs, his balls churning, every single part of his sexual organs in overdrive. And he was loving every single second of it. Throwing his head and arms back he let his cock explode from the confines of his briefs and become a monster. As it started to enter the room, it curved, before straightening a massive seventeen inches from base to tip. Chapter Eight "Beat that, Jonah!" moaned Tim, but the flask's contents weren't finished with him yet, everything experienced a second growth spurt, making Tim taller, heavier, thicker and more muscular than it was possible to be. After a few moments, Tim breathed again and as he looked down at his now average sized cock again he tutted "Oi, Herc, get a move on!" As if in response "Herc" did so, turning ninety degrees and shooting up his torso. Past his groin, past the lower set of his abs, past his obliques, and almost reaching to his pectoral cross where it then expanded outwards turning into a monster of a cock that had to be at least thirty inches long and twenty inches thick. Chapter Nine "I...I....I....LOVE IT!" screamed Tim and came, but this was no ordinary ejaculation. This was the mother of all ejaculations. It lasted for a good three minutes, blasting out cum at least twenty feet away and all in one continuous stream. This release of raw sexual energy caused another growth spurt that made Tim's back have the largest Christmas tree on record, produced lats that pushed Tim's arms a good six feet away from each other and caused his glutes that had been resting on the table to lift above the table. Chapter Ten As the orgasm faded, Tim hit a front double bicep pose and moaned "Ultimate" and found that the flask's contents had done something else. Enhanced his brain to such a degree that without even looking at himself he knew what he was. "Oh man" he moaned, "Eight feet tall, Eight fucking feet tall" and with that he punched his chest like Tarzan which caused him to moan "Five hundred and twenty three pounds of fucking class A muscle" and with that closed his eyes and moaned as he felt his body "A one hundred and five inch chest, ten and a half inch nipples, fifty two inch waist, two, four, six, eight, ten fucking hard abs, a cock that any man would want to suck, fifty seven inch quads, forty six inch calves, forty two inch biceps and one hundred percent pure stud!" and with that moaned again as he started to daydream his favourite muscle worship fetish of being strapped into a frame, electrodes attached to his nipples, cock, balls and zapped with not the current from a torch battery but the current from five nuclear power stations. It was just then that a buzzing grabbed his attention and noticing a cell phone on the desk behind him, picked it up. On it was a message from the professor. "Sorry, running a little behind on our meeting. Any objections if I send Hank ahead so that we can have our meetings one after the other?" The smile on Tim's face was so wide it was in danger of escaping his face.

Actually this is who I had in mind for Johnny...

BB Gun “Come in!” Terri yelled hearing a knock at his bedroom door. He didn’t bother taking his eyes off his computer screen. When his door swung open, he wasn’t surprised to see his hulking flat mate Wade enter a smug grin on his square face. It was obvious from the gleam in his bespectacled eyes that he wanted to show something to Terri. So, Terri paused the workout video he was watching on YouTube. “Were you watching porn?” teased Wade, smirking seeing the naked torso of a man on Terri’s computer screen. “No, you jerk, it’s a workout video. Some tips on exercises to help really pack on size.” Sighed back Terri irritably. He hated that he was caught watching the video, especially as people usually didn’t think he really worked out anywhere near as much as he did thanks to his little, scrawny body. When he’d been little Terri had hoped to grow huge, but unfortunately, puberty had dealt him the small card and he’d been dubbed Tiny Terri ever since arriving at college. “Nice.” Smiled back Wade, who didn’t workout anywhere near as much as Terri but looked like Clark Kent. His white T-Shirt visibly straining about the planes of his pecs and the bulges of his biceps. “Did you want something?” Terri sighed, annoyed and cocking an eyebrow at Wade who was just standing there in his room. “Oh yeah. I wanted to show you this. It’s a BB gun I made.” Beamed Wade proudly. Many people thought Wade was a dumb muscle jock, but when they got to know him they soon learnt he was far from it. Wade considered himself an inventor of sorts and was super smart, which was why Terri frowned at Wade. Building a simple BB gun was certainly something Wade could’ve achieved without effort and didn’t warrant such boasting. “Uh-huh, well I’m gonna get back to my video.” Drawled Terri, swiveling in his chair to face his computer screen. “Wait, wait. I call it a BB gun for short.” Protested Wade seeing that he was losing Terri’s interest “Uh-huh.” Terri grunted back again disinterestedly “It stands for Big Bulging gun.” Beamed Wade, his smile becoming more devilish as he saw he’d regained Terri’s interest “It’s a what?” Terri asked “It’s better if I just show you.” Smirked Wade, aiming the gun at Terri’s pillow and pulling the trigger. There was a beam like a laser pointer that hit Terri’s deflated, old pillow and Terri’s eyes widened as he watched. He saw as his pillow bulged and grew, surpassing its original plumpness and growing until it stretched from one side of his king single sized bed to the other. “Okay that’s cool.” Smirked Terri, looking forward to going to bed later and trying out the new pillow. The longer Terri stared at the pillow, however, the more wheels begun to churn in his head and a question came to life. Could that gun work on people? Terri turned to Wade who looked smug, no doubt expecting Terri’s question. “So Tiny Terri would do you think?” Wade asked, knowing he was goading Terri. He didn’t think Terri was a bad looking guy as he looked him over, sitting there in his dark blue shirt and grey sweatpants. Though small he was lean, with short, jet black hair, his fringe swept back away from his piercing blue eyes. Wade only wanted to help his friend and flatmate and he couldn’t deny it would be hot to see him huge. “Does it work on living things?” Terri asked, unable to help his fair cheeks from blushing. “I haven’t tested it,” shrugged back Wade honestly, “I’ve tested it on plants, towels and now your pillow.” “Would you test it on me?” Terri sheepishly asked, he felt embarrassed asking, but looking at the way his pillow had blown up, even if he could experience just a portion of that it would be amazing. Wade felt his crotch stir at Terri’s words and smiled. “Are you sure?” Wade asked, as though he was eager to test it and he knew Terri would be willing, he wasn’t sure what would happen. “What scared?” Terri sneered pushing up from his chair and getting to his feet. Sauntering over to Wade, Terri looked up at his face, coming only to chest height on his taller, beefier flat mate. “Worried I could tease you, the way you sometimes tease me if we were the same size or bigger.” Mocked Terri before a warmness shot through his body, a tingle and stirring like he was getting a hardon but throughout his whole body. To his surprise Terri saw he had to look up to meet Wade’s eyes less and less. Looking down Terri’s face split into a wide euphoric grin as he saw the laser of the BB gun striking him in the abs making him grow and bulge. In seconds Terri and Wade were eye level, Terri filling out his cloths like he never had before. The two young men couldn’t believe how well the gun had worked as Terri’s muscles had ballooned. “Okay so there’s side effects.” Commented Wade trying to sound disappointed about the roid gut that was now poking out from under Terri’s shirt. In truth, Wade’s cock throbbed at the sight and the even bigger bulge in the front of Terri’s sweatpants. “Not a bad one though.” Smirked Terri, rubbing his protruding belly. He didn’t care about that he looked like he’d swollen a basketball, he was big now and muscly. Terri’s whole body was alight from the sensation of blowing up, but the feeling soon faded, which was replaced by curiosity. “Is there a limit?” Terri asked devilishly “You want to be bigger?” stammered Wade, his cock aching harder at the words. He was certain his boner was either going to explode or rip free. “We should test it.” Smirked Terri, gathering himself up into an akimbo pose that threatened to burst the front of his shirt. Wade taking a gulp, didn’t need to be asked twice and zapped Terri again. It was as hot for Wade watching Terri swell and grow as it was for Terri to see Wade shrink beneath him. It felt so good as his bulk swelled, throbbing like an all over boner. Though Terri’s cock was rapidly becoming the hardest throbbing part of him as he got turned on by the splitting and peeling of his shirt. The feeling of his bulbous mushroom gland atop his circumcised cock traveling down his pants leg. Terri opened his eyes in surprise when he felt the throbbing slow, ease then subside. “Why’d you stop?” Terri asked, looking over his protruding pecs to stare down at wade. “Your clothes were bursting off of you.” Spluttered back Wade, trying to ignore the twitching python of Terri’s now engorged and overblown cock in the now tight confines of his sweatpants. “So?” shrugged Terri “You want to be bigger?” asked Wade “Hells yeah, this feels so good.” Grinned Terri, flexing his biceps, showing off his massive weapons of mass destruction. Again, Wade thought he was going to blow his load in his pants from the view. “Even with the gut?” Wade queried, as again Terri’s belly had blown up further, looking like he had swollen a gym ball. “Size is size?” shrugged Terri rubbing his now fully exposed, distended stomach. Wade taking another gulp, didn’t want to deny his now hulk like flatmate nor dismiss his desire to see him grow even bigger. “Don’t hold back.” Winked Terri, before his eyes suddenly almost rolled into the back of his head, his tongue lolling as Wade zapped him once more with the BB Gun. It felt amazing like he was building towards an orgasm that was churning through his whole body not just his balls as he continued to swell and swell and swell and swell and swell. Wade taking a step back had to put some distance between himself and the now towering Terri who was continuing to fill the room. The young twenty-something was soon wider than he was tall as his muscles mushroomed into freakish proportions. His sweatpants at last bursting, freed his engorged cock, balls and legs. His thick cock hugging the underside of his growing belly, pre slickening his dark treasure trail as his cock lurched with growth. It was so hot Wade got mesmerized and distracted. It was only when he heard a thunk did he pay attention to the rest of Terri’s colossal bulk and realize his tremendous traps and back muscles were pressing into the ceiling. His head looking diminutive, nestled amongst his ballooning muscles. The look on Terri’s face was one of utter bliss, he was obviously enjoying the feeling of being blown up, of power welling up in him. The feeling of stretching across the room. He didn’t even care as he felt his arms lifting from his lats, his quads and balls spreading his legs making movement difficult. He was finally becoming huge which he’d always wanted. His barely socked feet curled resulting in the cracking of the wooden floorboards beneath them as the orgasmic like building tension continued to surge through him. “Don’t stop. Keep going.” Breathed Terri as if sensing Wade’s hesitance to make his flatmate even more of a muscle monster than he already was. Wade doubted Terri could even move, let alone get through his bedroom door as the obscenely bulky giant was forced to sit down to accommodate his still ballooning size. His socks at last shooting off his boogie board sized feet. Yet Wade continued to hold down the trigger, the beam of the BB Gun making Terri balloon bigger and bigger and bigger. “This feels amazing. I’ll be the biggest man ever.” Moaned Terri, which was answered by a groan from the confines of his room that was becoming increasingly enveloped by his bulk. “Say things like that you’re gonna make me cum.” Breathed Wade, tempted to reach into his pants, whip his cock out and start jerking it to the impressive sight of watching Terri continue to swell. “With how amazing this feels, keep growing me and you’ll make me cum.” Panted Terri, wishing he had enough movement and space to jerk his cock which felt truly huge against his overblown muscle gut. He knew if he tried to fuck Wade with that cock, even someone Wade’s size would be split in two. The thought making his cock ache and drip more profusely. Terri’s words egged Wade on and he squeezed the trigger of the BB gun even tighter as if it would make Terri grow bigger, bulkier faster. “Fuck yes. The power. The absolute power.” Terri rumbled, again his room rumbling in answer as he’d filled so much space. Wade had found he’d subconsciously stepped back into the hallway as Terri’s belly and cock grew further and further towards him. Terri was drunk in the absolute bliss his head spinning. It was better than any sex he’d ever had and he knew the approaching orgasm was going to be epic. “That’s it Wade, keep going make me burst out of this place. Keep me growing until I can shower you in my spunk!” Terri roared as his whole body churned and tightened. He was so close to coming from the sensation of being blown up it was unbelievable. He knew he was going to blow the most intense load of his life and he wanted it bad. Unable to hold back any longer, Wade whipped his dick out and started jerking it, keeping the BB Gun firmly trained on Terri’s belly, which along with his cock was filling up his doorway. Both were so wide now they couldn’t squeeze through and the door frame begun to bow under the pressure. “Keep going! I’m gonna cum!” came a muffled roar from Terri. It pleased Wade that Terri was enjoying the growth so much and his jerking became feverish as the bulging, ballooning masses before him rumbled and shuddered. “Keep going!” yelled Terri, enjoying as his muscles pressed in on himself, as they crushed his tiny belongings. It felt so good and like his confines were going to break any moment. He relished the tightening as his balls drew inward and his body surged and tightened. Wade panted and moaned as an orgasm tore through him as the shaking wall of belly and cock surged out to freedom from the doorway towards him, accompanied by a pleasure laden moan that told him Terri was cumming. As Terri went over the precipice and descend into the ecstasy of orgasm, he realized they’d gone too far. His bucking cock was like a fuse and he was the big muscle bomb at the end of it. “Oh fuck!” Wade and Terri cried in unison, Wade still holding the trigger of the BB Gun and forcing Terri to grow that little bit too big. A wave of spunk knocked Wade back against the wall as with a pleasurable roar, Terri exploded. Wade picking himself off the ground and looking at the empty spunk covered room. Wade gulped, looking at the gun and his still hard cock. From all the moans and grunts of pleasure that had escaped Terri he’d no doubt enjoyed himself up to the explosive end and Wade couldn’t help but wonder what it felt like to grow. Wade told himself he wouldn’t get carried away again though. However, while he told himself that, his cock throbbed at the idea of getting carried away.

Chapter Three Feeling a tightness in his chest, Tim looked down and as he did his eyes opened wide in amazement as his jacket, emblazoned with the school emblem, a leaping tiger, started to strain and then slowly, but surely separate. At the same time he could feel a sensation in his pants and for the next few moments was transfixed. The split worked its way down, past his chest, revealing two heaving masses, further down still revealing the starting of six perfect abs until unable to resist any longer the jacket completely separated allowing Tim to breathe again and as he took that first breath having been released from the prison of his jacket, it was more a moan than a breath as his pants started to show the tell tale signs of arousal Chapter Four "What the...?" Tim started to ask him as he examined his hands, now a good three inches longer and a good two inches thicker than they were when suddenly he felt compelled to flex. Acting on nothing more than instinct he raised his arms, making his massive chest look ever bigger and with a roar flexed. As he did so he could hear the jacket on his back start to tear and as it did, the sensation overwhelmed Tim. Chapter Five Ripping the jacket off, he dropped it on the floor like a piece of rubbish, and why shouldn't he? That jacket wasn't worthy to adorn the torso he was in possession of now. His pecs were bigger than watermelons, his abs could put Peter Andre's to shame, and as for his whole demeanour, forget that "The team won, not because I scored the winning basket, but because we all chimed in" he was now "Yeah, I am the team!". Perhaps that is why it took a moment for him to realise that his quads were now growing along with his manhood. As he began to realise his moans became even louder and also willing his pants to be destroyed, he tore them apart in a fluid movement holding both halves in his hands and chuckling to himself "No more pants more, eh?"

Chapter 3 After massaging Cris and then Arturo, I knew I had to learn more about why I was suddenly transforming like this. To do that, I retraced my journey with Cris the night we had our encounter. We had been at a party hosted by friends, and left fairly early. I was pretty sure there'd be nothing for me to find there - the hosts of that party were an older couple with kids, and I was sure that if either of them had a way of magically becoming more physically fit, they'd use it themselves. So from there, I went to the bar that Cris had taken us to that night. I had never been there before and hadn't really considered going again - although, of course, if Cris had asked me to, I'd have joined in a heartbeat. I didn't want Cris to know why I had come back, though, so I made this journey alone. I went to the bar on a Tuesday evening after work, shortly after they opened. I was one of three patrons in the bar when I entered. The bartender - a lean, scruffy, dark-haired thirty-something with a charming smile - asked what I'd like to drink as I approached. I knew next to nothing about alcohol, so I just asked for the first drink whose name popped into my head - an Old Fashioned, the drink Cris had ordered when we came before. "Coming right up," he said, grinning. As he prepared the drink, I glanced toward the door and the other patrons, making sure nobody else needed his attention. The two other patrons were seated at a table, deep in conversation. Nobody else had entered. I took in the bartender's clothes - black shoes, black slacks, a white dress shirt, and a black vest and tie, with a nametag on it reading "Shaun" - then called out to him. "Hey, Shaun, can I ask you something?" "Fire away," he said, looking me in the eye while dexterously preparing my Old Fashioned. "I was in here, Saturday night, a couple weeks ago..." He chuckled and cut me off. "Lemme guess, one of the bartenders hit on you and you're trying to get another shot with him?" I froze. That hadn't been at all what I wanted, but it seemed like being hit on by a male bartender here wasn't that rare an occurrence, despite it not being a gay bar. I played along. "Am I that obvious?" Shaun shrugged, making the motion look like it was part of the dance his arms and hands were doing with my drink. "I only guessed you're gay because of the way you sized me up just now. Most straight guys would probably look at the drink I'm making if they looked at me at all. That, and you look like you're the kind of guy Freddie would hit on." I struggled for a moment to recall the features of the bartender who had served Cris and I when we came in before. He had been blond, twinkish, and pretty openly lustful towards Cris. I described him to Shaun: "Blond guy, green eyes, small frame?" "That's our Freddie. He's not working tonight, but if you want to come back any night between now and Sunday he'll be here." Shaun pushed my finished drink across the counter. As I took it, I told him, "Thanks, I might do that. And I'll close out now." As he ran my card to pay the tab, he asked, "Do you want me to give a message to Freddie?" "Ah, probably not. I don't know when I'll be free to come back this week to come back, don't wanna get his hopes up. Thanks, though." I signed the receipt, tipping him 100% of the bill, and took my drink to an unoccupied corner. Periodically sipping it, I pulled out my phone and started scanning the bar's Instagram page for photos of Freddie. When I found one, it dispelled any doubts that he had been the guy who served us that night. The photos in which he looked the happiest, I noticed, contained men with muscular physiques. I wondered if he had put something in my drink that caused this change, and if so, why. Unless he had done so for purely altruistic reasons, I couldn't imagine why he'd risk exposing such a secret to benefit me. I could hear a whispered conversation at the bar, but I didn't look up. I was busy finding my way from the bar's Instagram to Freddie's private one. What did make me look up, however, was the sight and sound of someone pulling one of the stools away from my table. I casually swiped the home button on my phone, hiding the screen's contents as Freddie perched himself on the stool next to mine. "I thought you weren't supposed to be working tonight?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not supposed to be. I'm just covering a shift for someone who called in sick. Have we met?" He was taking me in exactly how I had checked out Shaun, with an interested look I was entirely unaccustomed to. "Uh, yeah," I said, somewhat nervously. "You served me and a friend drinks a couple weeks ago." He looked confused, but then smiled lasciviously. "I think I would have remembered seeing you, hot stuff." He laughed. I chuckled too. Then I realized he wasn't quite as small as I remembered. He was still much smaller than me, but his work shirt was tight around the chest and sleeves in ways they hadn't been a few weeks ago. Judging by the pictures I had just seen, they hadn't been that tight a few nights ago - there had been a picture of him on Instagram from Saturday, shirtless at the beach, with his arms and chest looking like they had all the toned musculature of a spaghetti noodle. Then one from Saturday night on the bar's page with him gazing longingly at some drunk muscled stud. Three days later, his sleeves looking like a sausage about to burst its skin; the fabric across his chest stretched tight. I downed my drink. "Well, maybe you'll remember me better after tonight," I said. "Let me fix you another drink," he said coyly. "Then we can talk about what we can do to make sure I remember you when I wake up tomorrow." He sauntered away, swinging his hips. His glutes stretched the seat of his pants as taut as his chest did that tiny shirt. I watched him go to the bar. He made me another drink - probably another Old Fashioned, I thought, resigning myself to drinking another one. I was already feeling the buzz coming on, and a second drink would put me over the edge. I watched Freddie making the drink. When he noticed me looking, he smiled warmly at me, then turned his back to me, still holding the drink, as he continued to mix it. Moments later, he brought it back, along with a drink of his own. I took a sip. It was an Old Fashioned, but there was something about the taste that didn't match up with what I'd just had. Not as if the drink had different proportions - there was a new flavor in the mix here. My suspicions had evidence to back them up. "So," I asked, the alcohol lending me a degree of charm I might not have been able to muster without it, "What does it take to get you to remember me next time?" I leaned in a little as I spoke, giving a small smile and letting the burning sensation in my throat give my voice a sultry growl. He stroked my bicep, admiring the way I filled out my own long-sleeved button-up. It looked great on me. I had started buying a wardrobe more appropriate to my new measurements. "You could come to my place when I'm off work," he said hopefully. I chuckled. "I could, but I have work tomorrow. And I probably start a few hours after you get off. I'd probably still be drunk. Wouldn't even have time to sleep," I added with an exaggerated wink. Freddie looked around the empty bar. "Well... there's also a back room we could go to. While there's nobody here." I took larger gulps of my drink. Freddie's eyes lit up every time I lowered the glass a little emptier than I had raised it. "That sounds like fun," I said. "And I could sleep before going to work." I tossed back the remnants of my drink, and Freddie took that as his cue. He stood, grabbed my hand, and let me to a door by the bar. On the other side was a dim hallway. He whispered furiously to Shaun after pushing me through the door, then followed and directed me to a storage room on the left. It was unlocked and mostly empty but for a few cases of rum. "We're getting a new shipment tomorrow, and this room will be mostly full. So today is the perfect day to do this," he whispered. Then he stood on tip-toes and kissed me. I made out with him for a good ten, fifteen seconds, then nudged his head aside. He took it as a sign to start kissing my neck. I allowed it, because it enabled me to whisper in his ear. "So how does this work?" "Well," he responded, "first I get this big dick hard by sucking it" (he groped my crotch, finding my cock completely soft) "and then once it's nice and wet, you bend me over that stack of boxes and make me scream your name." I chuckled again. I was drunk, but not drunk enough to forget that I wasn't here to fuck this guy. "No," I said. "I meant the stuff you put in my drink. How does it work?" He froze, then backed away from me. I grabbed his arm. "You put this stuff in my drink. I want to know why and how it works." He looked confused again, but had the decency not to try to lie. "You say that like you know what I put in it..." "Yeah," I told him. "Almost like you put it in my drinks two weeks ago, when I was a fat little schlub you wouldn't look twice at. Almost like it turned me into someone you would look twice at, and try to fuck at your workplace." Comprehension and horror dawned on his face. "You were here with..." "With the hot guy with the shaved head, yeah." "It was supposed to be in his drink," Freddie muttered. "He was supposed to go home with me." "Your first mistake was assuming that he wanted the weak, fruity drink. That was all me. Your second mistake was in assuming that he'd leave a drunk friend behind just to hook up." I considered how deep I needed to cut to break him down, then decided to go for it. I put a hand on the back of his neck and pushed down. He dropped to his knees. "Your third mistake was in thinking he'd be into you at all." The hurt in Freddie's eyes was only undercut by the excitement in them. Yeah, he was being told all the ways he had fucked up, but he clearly wanted to be on his knees in front of me. I unzipped my pants and pulled out my half-hard cock. "Tell me how it works, or else." He looked up me, trying to disguise his glee as defiance. "Fuck you," he said, spitting. His saliva landed on my dick. I responded by grabbed the base of my cock and slapping him in the face with it, over and over, without letting it enter his mouth and while silently begging it not to get any harder. His frustration at not being able to suck my cock mounted as I held his head in place with one hand while using the other to assist in cock-slapping him. He broke. "Fine," he said. "I don't really get how it works. I bought the recipe online. Dark web voodoo shit. I had to borrow from my retirement money to afford it." I held my cock still in front of his mouth, nd let his head move enough that he could just barely reach the tip with his tongue. He immediately began licking the slit furiously, desperate for a drop of precum. Despite my best efforts, my cock stiffened entirely, and he got the precum he was working his tongue overtime to earn. I yanked his neck back an inch, then asked my next question. "What do I have to do to get it to work? Clearly it works some times and not others. What's the difference?" He responded eagerly this time, willing to answer any question to get my dick again. "It only works if you cum inside the guy! If you do that, you drain his gains away. All of them for a while, but after an hour or so, he's back to normal and you're a little bigger than before." I moved forward far enough to allow contact between him and my dick, but only so I could slap him in the face with it again. "Fucking lies. It worked for me even when I didn't cum inside the guy I was having sex with." I held my cock just above his reach. A gob of precum slowly lowering from my head. He desperately reached his tongue out to catch it. I spun my dick a bit, not enough to hit him, but enough that the precum drooling out of the head ended up all over my shaft and hand rather than dripping onto his eager tongue. I held him still, thinking, while another rope of precum began to drip down. I swung that safely away too, and the third. Then I shared my thoughts with him. "You want me to fuck you. Or at least to cum in you. So that much is clear. Sex is part of it. But I'm bigger than you. Just like the guys I've stolen mass from were way bigger than me. Well, more muscled, anyway." Freddie looked up, startled. "Wait, guys? Plural? You got it to work more than once with only one dose?" "Yeah," I told him. "Twice so far." "It's only supposed to work once," he said, more to himself than to me. "It stops working when you cum inside..." He cut himself off. "Good to know," I said. "Tell you what. Give me that recipe and I won't report you to your coworker out there for drugging my drink." The expression on his face returned to horror. "You wouldn't..." "I would. And I will if you..." I slapped his face with my cock, splattering his cheek with precum. "Don't..." I made a matching splatter on the other side. "Share." I lifted my cock up and brought it down between his eyes. Precum oozed from the bridge of his nose down into his left eye. He began blinking furiously. "Okay," he said. "Whatever. Fine. The recipe is on my phone. There's a pic of it in my gallery." I bent down and pulled it from his pocket myself, holding the phone in front of his face until it unlocked. In his image gallery, among a ton of pictures of him sucking cock or being fucked, taken from the POV of the guy he was sucking or being fucked by, was a picture of a handwritten recipe. I showed it to him. "That it?" He nodded. I let my cock rest on his face. He began sucking and licking my balls. Precum began flowing onto his forehead. "I've figured it out, I think. Tell me if I'm wrong. One guy drinks this potion of yours. Then he hooks up with another guy. Regardless of who drank it, the more muscular guy loses mass and the other guy gains it. When the one who drank it cums inside the guy he hooks up with, the spell is broken. That correct?" He moaned, "Mmmhmm," with a mouthful of testicles, nodding at me for good measure. I turned his phone's NFC on, then shared the picture. Putting his phone in my shirt pocket, I pulled out my own, turned on NFC, and received the picture. I backed it up to my cloud save before I pulled his phone back out, turned off NFC, and deleted the picture of the recipe. Then I paused for a moment. "Oh hey," I said. "And I figured out how to make you remember me." With his phone, I took a picture of my cock, oozing precum across his face as he sucked my balls like they were the fountain of youth. Then I tugged my balls out of his mouth. He didn't resist - he opened wide, ready to swallow my cock. But the only thing swallowing my cock was the hole in my pants between my belt and my lowered zipper as I tucked myself back into my boxer briefs. I zipped up, then shoved him backwards so he was on his back. I dropped his phone on his chest as I left the store room. After I left the hallway, I told Shaun, "Sorry to leave so soon. I guess I'm not as into him as I thought." Shaun looked like he had no horse in this race, but empathized with someone not being into Freddie. "You have a good one, man." "You too," he said as I headed for the door. I drove a few blocks away, head swimming from the alcohol, then parked at a strip mall and called an Uber. I had my gym bag in the car, remembering that I had meant to go after swinging by the bar. I grabbed it as the Uber arrived. My head began to clear as the Uber drove me to the destination. It occurred to me that my newfound size was probably making me more aggressive. I had been uncharacteristically rough with both Arturo and Freddie, in ways I hadn't been with Cris or any guy I'd hooked up with before. I hoped it was something I could get under control. I was lost in my thoughts until the Uber pulled to a halt and announced, "Here you go." It was then I realized I wasn't at home. I had gone to the same place I had gone the last time I took an Uber. Cris's house. I was about to apologize and tell the Uber driver that I had put in the wrong address when I heard Cris call out to me from his car, whose spot my Uber had stopped behind. "Mark! I wasn't expecting you to come by. Does this mean you're hitting the gym with me again?" Oh shit, I thought. Here we go. I hefted my gym bag so that he could see it, and called back, "Hell yeah. Let's get swole."

Chapter 2 I wasn't sure what had caused the transformation that overtook me a few weeks before, when my evening out with Cris had turned into a lust-drunk fuck, but I had a hell of a good time trying to replicate it. At first, I tried massaging Cris again. He was more than willing to get the knots worked out of his shoulders, neck, and back. He would never say no to a scalp massage. He seemed distinctly uncomfortable whenever I tried to push the massage further, however, not wanting me to massage his arms, chest, or legs. If I had to guess, it was because he couldn't reconcile his image of me as his fat friend with what he still believed was an erotically charged dream. He had been hitting the gym especially hard lately, talking about lost gains and needing to catch up, especially since he could see that I had leaned up a bit. I had been having an easier time at the gym myself, and had lost another five pounds per week since I had massaged him. Since he didn't want the full massage treatment, I had to look elsewhere. Luckily, there were no shortage of guys on apps like Grindr and Scruff, but getting one who was extremely muscular would be difficult. Guys on those apps, I knew, could be pretty shallow. To be fair, I wasn't really interested in guys with my body type either, so how could I expect them to be? Within a few days, though, the promise of a free massage turned a few heads, and I managed to get the attention of a guy by the name of Arturo whose profile pic was his impressively sculpted pecs. They were covered in a light crop of dark chest hair, and from what I could tell of the pictures he shared, his entire body was tanned. He invited me to come by after he was done working out, and since I was free that afternoon, I accepted. He was short, maybe about 5'5". The four inches I had on him made me feel huge, at least until his clothes came off. His arms were like something out of a superhero comic. Without even flexing, I could see that his biceps were probably close to the size of a grapefruit. His triceps looked as big as golf balls. When Arturo took off his shirt, he turned his back to me. His back rippled with muscle as he raised his arms to pull the shirt over his head. His shoulders were large and round, and sloped downwards from his thick neck. He kept his shorts on, telling me, "You get to take them off if you do a good job." As he lowered himself, facedown, onto the bed, I mounted him and began warming his massage oil between my hands, then I started kneading his large shoulders. Almost immediately, I could sense a tingle beginning in my own shoulders. This was what had been missing with those casual massages with Cris. I presumed, then, that at least two factors were needed: an intense physical attraction to the man I was massaging, and that he be lying down during the massage. I wondered what else might be required to make this happen. As I squeezed, kneaded, rolled, and adjusted every inch of Arturo's astounding body between his neck and the waistband of his shorts. When I got to that point, I made as if to move to his legs, but he commanded me: "Not the legs yet. Take my shorts off." My shoulders, back, and arms were burning from both effort and whatever connection was draining Arturo, but I was too excited to grow fatigued. My heart pounded as I pulled the shorts down. He wasn't wearing underwear. When I got the shorts about halfway down his lean, hard thighs, I focused my attention on his ass. It was smaller, less shapely than Cris's, I had to admit. I wasn't sure if Cris's higher body fat was the reason, or if Arturo simply hadn't done as many squats. I would have to ask Cris about his workout habits to clear things up. Even so, Arturo's ass was taut as a drum. His crack had a line of fine, dark hair. Without thinking, I buried my face right there, in the center of his cleftal horizon. Arturo had quite obviously showered just before I arrived. He tasted sweet and clean. One of his hands reached around to grab my head and hold it in place. He moaned loudly as I forced my tongue into his hole. By the time I needed air, I had to struggle out of his grip to gasp for breath. When I did so, he muttered contentedly, "Let's come back to that later. For now, get my glutes and work your way down." I did so, reveling in the burn I felt in my own glutes and thighs. As with Cris, massaging Arturo's calves was something of a respite - my own calves were definitely bigger, with next to no fat to burn away. Then he flipped over. I gasped at the sight of his cock. It was huge, and looked monstrous on his 5'5" body. He had much more to work with than I did, with my own respectable 6.5" erection, or even Cris, who approached a beautiful 8 inches. Arturo had a solid nine-incher, uncut but with the foreskin pulled tight over his monster dick. There was no way he could fuck me. I would definitely get his cum inside me somehow, though. I climbed back onto him and began massaging his chest, using an ample amount of oil to prevent his chest hair from chafing him. I got his shoulders again, and his arms, and his armpits. His forearms looked like a braided steel cable coated in copper. As I watched myself massage the knots out of his forearms, I could see that my own were approaching that level of lean musculature. I especially loved working his gorgeous abs. He was clearly flexing them for me as I massaged them, loving the sensation of my hands moving across them. I could feel the extra weight around my midsection burning away as I did so. In time, I moved back down to his thighs. His cock bounced as I moved past it, and after only a minute or so of kneading his somewhat thin, but rock-solid thighs, he interrupted. "Forget the massage, suck my cock!" I did so gladly. It was difficult to deepthroat him, but I put my best effort into it all the same. I looked up to his face as I did so. He was in a crunch position so he could see me over his massive, hairy pecs. I thought they looked somewhat less massive now, but they were still beautiful. He grabbed my head and held me down. I jerked my head, not trying to get away, but to continue increasing his pleasure. He seemed to love the "struggle" and released me after ten seconds or so. He let out a long, low "fuuuuuuuuck" when I didn't come up for air right away, but continued bobbing my head while keeping as much of him in my mouth as possible. Then he slightly altered his position, and his dick pushed deeper into my throat. Suddenly, I couldn't breathe. His cock was filling my airway. He was holding me down again. My entire body was burning as I struggled for precious oxygen. Eventually I grabbed his hands and pulled them off of my neck, slowly and deliberately. I raised my head up so that only the last two inches of his cock were still in my mouth, took a deep, practiced breath, and resumed. He had clearly been expecting me to stay up longer to catch my breath. When I immediately began deepthroating him again, he let out a gasp. "Oh fuck, I can't hold back. You're gonna make me fucking bust!" In answer, I pulled back off so that only a few inches of him were in my mouth, and dove back down. He came buckets. It was a thin, liquid load, and tasted especially bitter. I swallowed it all regardless. He fell back onto the bed, shaking and moaning. "Damn Mark, that was amazing," he said between breaths. I smiled and got up on my knees. "Ready for me to get back to eating that ass?" He laughed. "Thanks, but my ass is off-limits unless you can overpower me." I decided to take that bet. "Worth a shot." I grabbed his left calf and twisted it, firmly but slowly, to the right. Arturo instinctively rolled with it, landing ass-up. I didn't know much about wrestling, but I knew that being so much taller and heavier than him, I had the advantage. Additionally, I noticed that his arms seemed smaller, his back less defined. His ass even seemed softer as I began to stroke it with one hand while pressing his head down into the pillow with the other. He tried to buck me off but couldn't gather the strength to do so. "If you tap, I'll oil my dick up before I fuck you," I growled into his ear. He fought back even harder, to no avail. I reached down to point my cock at his hole, lubricated only by my (admittedly ample) precum. I reached a lower to squeeze his balls, and found by the firmness of his taint that his dick was back at full mast. "Oh, you're not struggling because you want me not to fuck you, are you?" I said as I realized what was going on. "You're struggling because you want to make sure I'm strong enough to take you." He moaned an affirmative into the pillow. I rubbed my leaking head around his asshole and forced the head in. He was so tight, so warm, and so unbelievably silky. He yelped a bit as I pushed my way in, balls deep, but he pushed his ass back against my pelvis to force me in deeper. He didn't notice, or couldn't tell, that the thick belly fat I had had when I arrived was no longer there. I had transformed. I was what he would look like at 5'9", just hairier. Admittedly, I had a smaller cock and our facial features were nothing alike, and I was nowhere near as well tanned as he was - but facedown in a pillow, having his prostate pounded by my thick erection, he was in no fit state to notice any of it. I could see myself in the mirror of his sliding closet doors, however, and the sight of myself looking like some Nordic sex god helped push me over the edge much more quickly than I had hoped - and I had to give credit where it was due, that ass was so smooth on the inside for being so hairy on the outside. As I filled Arturo with my cum, I realized he looked smaller still. He seemed to have almost a swimmer's build, but with especially large pecs. My own could smother him, I could tell. It was a good thing my clothes were made to fit a much fatter me, because they still fit when I put them back on, although the sleeves of my t-shirt were tight around the shoulders and biceps. Arturo stayed in bed, facedown, shuddering, the rest of the time I was there. I drove home, and could slowly feel myself deflating. When I got back to my place, I had to tighten my belt before I could get out of my car. Once inside, I loosened the belt and my pants and boxer briefs fell right off. I heard my phone make the tell-tale Grindr chirruping noise and checked my messages. It was from Arturo: "what the fuck did u do to me???" I ignored it. He'd be fine in a few hours, if still somewhat smaller. I shucked off the rest of my clothes and made my way to the bathroom, where I stood on my scale. I didn't need to suck in my belly to read it - there wasn't much belly left, even though I had stopped transforming back to "normal" already. I felt a thrill of excitement as I saw what the scale's digital readout said. 190 lbs. I had lost another 25 pounds since I had last weighed myself. My stomach was flatter, my pecs more prominent, my arms - hell, my arms had barely changed from when I left Arturo's. They looked chubbier, but the added muscle underneath only made them look more impressive. As I flexed in the mirror, I knew I had to keep this up until I reached my goals.

Two Have you ever wanted something so badly, but when you finally have it, you realise it wasn’t what you were expecting it to be at all? And all that hope and expectation has gone. And you’re just left with this crushing feeling of disappointment? That is exactly what happened to me when I arrived at Montgomery University six months ago. I’d wanted to be a bodybuilder ever since my dad’s old business partner took me to a hardcore bodybuilding gym at the age of fifteen. I remember seeing all these pictures of huge muscle freaks and top bodybuilders in shredded competition condition on the walls. Huge pecs. Insane biceps. Veins everywhere. I was mesmerised. And I remember this strong feeling, a desire, to be like those guys. To be one of those huge flexing muscle freaks. God, I wanted it more than anything. All of my school friends wanted to be in indie bands, famous YouTubers or published authors when they grew up. But me? I just wanted to be a bodybuilder, flexing my huge biceps and crunching my thick abs on stage in nothing but a pair of shiny posing trunks. God yeah. So I trained my (then skinny) arse off. Read stuff on the Internet and in books about building muscle. Took advice from the bigger lads at the gym. I started drinking protein shakes and taking supplements and eating shit loads of calories a day. I soon started to pack on the muscle. I was the only lad in my year at school with a six pack. The other lads used to crowd around me in the changing rooms in P.E and comment about how jacked I was (which I loved). Some of them used to get me to flex my biceps too. Sometimes even in class, where they’d also try and get the attention of the teacher. “Sir? Sir? Have you seen Woody’s biceps, sir?” (Naturally I loved that too.) I soon became the biggest guy in the year. I got a reputation for being the “hardest” too. Which I always thought was hilarious. I didn’t get into a single fight at school and I’ve never had even the slightest desire to punch anyone (I’d much prefer to hit them with a witty and scathing put down). After a few years of serious training, I entered my first bodybuilding competition and won my class. An experience which affirmed what I’d felt that first day I’d attended the hardcore bodybuilding gym; that the only thing I wanted to be and the thing that I believed I was destined to be was a barely human, shredded to death, grotesquely monstrous muscle freak. Emily and all of my other school friends started applying to various universities. I’d never really had much of a desire to go. What would be the point? A university degree wasn’t going to help me become the next Blaine Holton. Then, one afternoon, my rugby playing Science teacher Mr Bentley (fantastic arse!) kept me behind and asked me the question I’d been dreading; what was I planning to do once I’d left school? I lied and said I was thinking of applying to do a design and illustration degree somewhere. After all, I’d always loved to draw, even if I hadn’t told many people about it. And then Mr Bentley said one thing that would determine my future plans. “I’m surprised you haven’t applied to Montgomery University.” I’d heard of it, of course, but I’d never really considered the idea of going. Montgomery University of Bodybuilding & Fitness (or Muscle University as it’s often affectionately nicknamed). Founded by bodybuilding legend Charles Montgomery, who was known for his academic achievements and his ability to speak several languages, it was the only school in the world dedicated to turning it’s students into professional bodybuilders. It was somewhere up in Scotland and the tuition fees were rumoured to be pretty high but it was supposedly not that hard to get in to. All you really needed, besides fairly decent further education grades, was to demonstrate that you had a passion for bodybuilding. Which I most definitely did. As soon as I started to look into the university, this burning desire to go started to brew. It seemed perfect. A place where I could train with other budding muscle freaks, learn more about bodybuilding and do nothing but train, eat, study, flex and grow into the mass monster I was already on my way to becoming. A place where I could live and breathe bodybuilding with fellow meat monsters and brothers in iron. Where I would take classes such as Posing Practice 101, Anatomy & Aesthetics, Muscle Food, Diet & Supplements and Bodybuilders In The Media, most of which were taught by real life bodybuilders, many of them well known pros who had retired from competing. At the end of the three years, every student competed in a bodybuilding show, where many of the competitors won their IFBB pro cards. And if they didn’t, many would get snapped up by muscle related companies for sponsorships, and most likely go on to win their pro cards not long after graduation. I suddenly wanted nothing more than to go to Muscle University. Of course, throughout the application process, convincing my parents that this was the right thing for me (mum took a while to come round to the idea) and the interview (which I smashed), there was one thing I didn’t factor in. One thing I never even considered. You see, the one thing I’ve always loved about being a bodybuilder is the attention that it’s bought me. The lads at school commenting on my abs and asking me to flex my guns. People in public looking at me when I’d wear vests and tight t-shirts in the summer. All the likes and comments whenever I posted pictures of myself flexing (or even not) on social media. I loved being different. I loved being special. I loved being the only bodybuilder at school. The biggest lad in class. The only one with genuine, full on, six pack abs. I loved being the town’s most well known competitive juniour bodybuilder. Even featuring in the local newspaper (my dad seemed especially proud of that achievement). And then I arrived at Montgomery and quickly realised that, much to my surprise and horror, I was no longer any of those things. I was no longer different. I was no longer special. I was no longer the biggest and most jacked lad in class. And I certainly wasn’t the only bodybuilder. Because every other fucker here at Muscle University is a bodybuilder like me. My classmates. My teachers. My short lived dorm mate Craig. They’ve all got abs. They’ve all got big biceps. Some of them (particularly the second and third years) are considerably bigger and more monstrous than I am. I don’t stand out. I’m not unique. No one stares at me when I walk down the halls. Fuck, barely anyone even notices that I’m here. I am just one of many freaks in the sea of barn door backs, massive shoulders, thick legs and huge arses I see every single fucking day that I’m at this frigging university in the middle of nowhere which now imprisons me for eight to nine months of the annual calendar for the next three years. Even now, as I’m walking down this corridor, passing a number of fellow meathead students on the way to my dorm room, barely anyone even looks at me. Twelve hours ago I was being gawped at in a club and having guys ask to feel my flexed biceps, even just two hours ago my freaky hugeness was (very rightfully) the command of every single passenger in a train carriage, and now I’m practically invisible. I breathe a deep sigh as I put the key in the lock to my dorm room. This is my sanctuary. Where I’m free from fellow bodybuilders, many of them bigger, more jacked and cockier than I am. As soon as I open the door my stomach lurches. There are things on Craig’s old bed. There is bedding on Craig’s old bed. And a poster of 212 super freak Tommy “The Tank” Foster pinned to the wall above the bed. Oh God no. No, no, NO. It can’t be. I can’t have. And then, I hear the toilet flush in my bathroom (MY bathroom which has been mine alone for the past three months), the door opens and my worst fears have been realised. I have a new fucking roommate.

Hey everyone, here's Part 4 clocking in at just over 5000 words (it's a long one). Apologies again for how long it's taken, but I think his part is the best yet! Enjoy. Part 4: the road ahead He was panting, enormous pecs heaving. Cum coated his chest and muscle gut, mixing with sweat. His body glistened with sweat - wanking was a lot of effort for such a massive man. In the year since we had begun, he had ballooned with 167lbs of muscle, growing from 120lbs to a jaw-dropping 287lbs - at a mere 5’7”, no less. A stone a month, on average. He was a muscle god, a monster; this is what he was meant to be. His purpose on Earth was to grow, and my purpose was to help him. We were both stunned when he weighed himself live on video for me. I’d had to read out the weight, as he couldn’t see over his pecs anymore. Just another step in his transcendence of the normal world. The goal had been 250lbs, and I could tell he’d comfortably exceeded that...but 287lbs? Such growth should not have been possible. It took me a moment to actually get the words out; I was speechless, as was he. He sat back down in the chair, which creaked under his weight, and we just looked at each other in silence, smiles of pure joy on our faces. After a few moments, he gingerly asked, “Sir, may I -” I interjected, knowing what he wanted. “Wank like you’ve never wanked before, James. You’ve earned it.” He obliged, asking me the most touching question he could have while he did so: would I make him bigger? It was our equivalent of him asking me to marry him. Here he was, my most magnificent creation. In truth, I’d never expected him to reach the milestones I set - they were deliberately insane, impossible. They were tests of his commitment and determination - how far would he push himself for me, for his dream of more growth? But he demolished them, and surpassed them. I’d never made a man so big. Usually the regime becomes too much for them, and they have to give up, their hunger unsatisfied through their own weakness. Or I discard them when they prove sadly wanting. James, however, had taken the regime in his stride; he seemed to have unlimited stamina, endurance. The grotesquely overgrown and bloated body, swollen with hundreds of pounds of useless muscle, was the result. His life was gone; all he had was me and his oh-so huge body. He’d cut out his friends and family; he’d quit his job. All for growth. All for me. Now he’d grown so much that he could barely even live, struggling to wash himself, clothe himself, even pleasure himself. Yet he still wanted more, so much more. The ultimate addict. No other boy had ever proven themselves worthy - or capable - or advancing to the next, and final stage. James was the first - my first. Poor boy, I thought. So desperate, and oh so so hungry. He’s gone so far, but there’s much further he could go. We both knew it. This was the end of the beginning. I loved him, and I was struggling to hold back the emotions. “Please!” he pleads, he begs, between frantic thrusts, the hopelessly overdeveloped muscles jiggling from the bucking. His eyes crying out to me. “Make me bigger! I need it!” I smile again, the tears of joy and love flowing freely now. Such an eager boy. He is a wonder to behold - and I love him like nothing else. “I think that can be arranged,” I reply, flashing my smile - genuinely this time. There was no other answer I could give. He explodes. *** Sometimes you have decide based on instinct. When James was vying for my attention, he was one of several. Several boys all eager to prove to me that they wanted to test the limits of the male body, desperate to impress me and gain my favour. James was the most handsome, but also the smallest and least-developed. Others had already forced their bodies bigger, and in tearful confession professed their supposedly insatiable hunger for growth. On the surface, James had little to show, and made no grandiose demonstration of his supposed commitment; just a few hurried sentences uttered by a nervous little boy. But there had been something in his voice, a glint in his eye. The suggestion of something truly enormous itching to be released. He had intrigued, more than all the other candidates who had merely spouted on about how they “wanted to get huge”. There was something different about James, and on a hunch I’d taken a gamble and chosen him. And that is how I witnessed the most beautiful transformation a man could ever undergo. It was the best choice I’d ever made. Stage 3 was altogether different from those before. Before James, it had always been a hypothetical. No-one had ever made it before; they’d all washed out, unable to withstand the punishment of the process or my exacting demands. But not James. He alone had proven himself worthy. In that sense, this was a first for both of us. Neither of us had been in a relationship (a meaningful one at least) before; now that was going to change. Since I was but a child I’ve had a fascination with muscle. Or, to be more precise, with men growing muscle. Lots of it. Endless amounts of it. Like the hunger, yet different - the other side of the coin. My purpose was to make little boys into gods, rather than become a god myself. While I had gained a shallow form of joy and pleasure from making a number of men balloon, I had always been seeking ‘the one’. He who could take our mutual desires to never-before-seen extremes, he whom I could love, he whom I could adore. It seemed that I had found him, after seven long years. James was to move in with me (the final severing of all ties to his old, much smaller, self) and then, together, in love, we’d then see just how far he could go; just how big he could get. I would care for him as he grew too big to look after himself. He would no longer have to worry about trivial things such as money and food; I would take care of everything now. He could devote himself to his - to our - passion. The endless growth of his body. This is what I had always dreamed of. It was what he had always dreamed of. Our purpose was clear. I’d been paying his rent and bills for him since the beginning of the process, so winding that up was easy, but nonetheless symbolic. I admired his final leap of faith, his ultimate trust in me. If this went wrong, he’d have nothing. In a rational sense, it was a monumental risk. And yet, he knew it was no such thing. In truth, he had nothing to lose anymore. I, and the body we had built together, were all he had. He packed his few belongings in a duffel bag, and travelled to me. I was to meet him at the train station, with my home being a short walk away. As I walked to the station, my stomach was in knots. This was it. I was about to meet - in the flesh (all of it!) - the boy whom I had grown into a man, and fallen in love with. Part of me was panicking - would this work? Fantasy was one thing, reality was another, as I had told so many boys in my time. Were we really in love? This was our first meeting. I fought to suppress the doubts, to remember how I felt when we talked. 11:00am. The last chills of morning had faded, giving way to a temperate spring day. I reached the station, and looked around for the man of my dreams amongst the crowd. It wasn’t hard to find him. A man that large was rather conspicuous, after all. As soon as I saw him, all my doubts melted away. He was looking in a different direction to me, giving me a side-on view. He was simply gigantic. In person, his size was in perspective, making it clear how enormous he really was. So...thick. He had to be pushing on two feet, taking into account all that pec and back muscle. His soft, dirty blond hair was neatly styled, accentuating his stubble (a result of his shaving difficulties I suspected) and prominent cheekbones. He’d clearly put effort in for this meeting - which I found rather sweet. He was as handsome in the flesh as he had been on-screen. He was wearing a white cotton tee and shorts (little else fit him now), which were painted on. His upper body was threatening to explode out of the shirt, which highlighted each massively swollen muscle group. His nipples pressed against the fabric, stretched taut as it was across his overdeveloped musculature. His duffel bag was slung over one shoulder, looking comically small compared to his body. Passers-by were staring at him, mostly in disgust at how someone could do that to themselves. Gaze upon his glory, you ignorant fools, I thought. They didn’t understand. Yes, he was a freak. But he wanted to be one. It was his choice. His destiny. His purpose. As I moved toward him, he must have caught me out of the corner of his eye, as he turned to face me. His face lit up in the most heart-warming smile, and mine involuntarily did the same. We came together, meeting halfway (him waddling adorably). Introductions weren’t necessary, we immediately entered into a heartfelt embrace. The contrast between us was hilarious, and arousing. I was 25, 5’6” and a svelte 110lbs. He was 20, 5’7” and 290lbs (I’d later find out he had grown another 3lbs in the last week). My arms wrapped tightly around him just below his lats, unable to make the slightest impression. His roid gut pushed into my own belly, while his muscles completely smothered me. All around me was muscle - pec, bicep, forearm. I was drowning in a veritable ocean of muscle. He was holding me firmly, but gently (his strength was as insane as his body). We said nothing, holding the embrace for a good minute. I drank in his scent - manly, but soft, with a hint of sweat - and the sensation of his muscles, letting his warmth suffuse into me. It all felt so...right. I could stay like this for hours. Both of us knew, in that moment, that this was meant to be. There could be no doubt. When we eventually broke the hug, we looked at each other. He smiled nervously; in contrast, my nerves were completely gone. For all his great size and strength, he was still the submissive one, needing me to take the lead and set the direction. I took his hand, exercising control, but also making clear to him that we were most definitely okay. I led James by the hand like a puppy to where I lived, ignoring the stares directed towards him. The short journey was a blur, and within a couple of minutes I had ushered him in and closed my door. I turned to face, and stepped close. He dropped the duffel bag on the floor, and I leaned in to kiss him on the lips. He returned it hungrily, and the kiss became more passionate, our tongues battling it out in our mouths. He pushed me against the wall, his pillow-sized pecs holding my measly weight in place. He moaned softly in satisfaction, while I breathed, “I’ve been waiting for this.” My hands eagerly grabbed at his muscles, and I tried to pull his shirt off, but it got caught on his lats. He simply brought his own hands up - calloused from all the weights - and tore the shirt clean in two, from collar to hem, exposing his body to me for the first time in the flesh. I gave a sharp intake of breath. There was just...so much of it. Mountains upon mountains of hard muscle, fighting each for other space. Hundreds of pounds of overgrown mass spilling in all directions, stretch marks testament to how fast he had grown. I broke the kiss, and stood there silently for a moment, admiring what James and I had built. The most glorious body I had ever seen; a monument to our love built of rock-hard flesh. I sighed in pleasure, and attacked that body with my mouth, tongue and hands. I spent the next 5 hours worshipping, appreciating, and sampling every last inch of his gloriously swollen body. For months I had wanted to do this, and I was making up for lost time. I kissed and licked his biceps and triceps - all 24 inches of them - as he flexed and pumped them for me, my tongue tracing the grooves, curves and crevices made by each head of muscle. I buried my head in his armpit - a vast cavern of muscle rippled with stretch marks - and drank deeply of his muscleboy sweat, armpit hair tickling my face. I teased and sucked his nipples while he slowly, methodically, bounced his pecs, and lapped up the fine layer of sweat that covered the downy, pillow-sized muscles, while my hands kneaded his cannonball shoulders. And so it went on, both of us groaning throughout. He obediently flexed and pumped every muscle at my command, enjoying my appreciation at the immense body he had built. He was my trophy, and he was proud of how impressed I was. By the end, we were both naked, cocks aching for release. I got to my feet, having finished savouring his enormous legs, and kissed him again. His hips bucked at the contact, our cocks rubbing against each other. I pulled away. “Suck,” I commanded. He knew what I meant. He negotiated himself to his knees (at his size, it was easy to overbalance) and gently, lovingly, placed his lips over my manhood. I exhaled sharply, looking down at his huge body, on his knees, pleasuring me. This was my dream made real. He hungrily sucked me, eager to taste my seed...I guessed (accurately) that he had long dreamed of this as well. “Pleasure yourself,” I offered, “but don’t make a mess.” One of his hands immediately clamped around his raging cock and began furiously pumping while he sucked me. He did not have to wait long: looking down on my grotesquely huge lover I was soon shooting, cumming like I never had before. He swallowed it all eagerly, a smile of ecstasy plastered on his face. Me cumming triggered him, and his bucked as he shot into his hand. He was careful to catch every drop, as per my command, before eating his own seed as well. My orgasm exhausted me, my brain overloaded from all the sensations. I stumbled on my feet, but suddenly his arms were around me and I was being carried (like a child - I weighed nothing to him) to my bed. He tenderly set me down, and then stood there. I chuckled and gave him permission to join me. The bed positively groaned under his weight, and he caused the mattress to sink, resulting in me sliding into him. Not that I was complaining; I snuggled up to him, resting my head in the groove between his pec and shoulder, while he placed his arm protectively over me. It was a prodigious weight in and of itself, but not uncomfortable. The warmth of his body suffused me. We lay there in thought. “What are your limits?” I asked. He was silent for a moment. “I don’t know,” he softly replied. “Much bigger than this. I still feel so small. Now that I’ve started, I don’t know whether I could stop, even if I wanted to.” I sensed he had more to say, so I said nothing. “I think of the boy I was...I’ve buried him in so much muscle. But the hunger is as great as ever, like I’m still that 120lb nobody. At first I just thought about being big, then a bodybuilder, then a mass monster...it doesn’t end. I don’t think it ever will.” He paused again. “It’s limitless, endless.” He looked me in the eye. I met his gaze, peering into his heart and soul. “Sir...grow me until you can’t grow me anymore. No limits. Don’t stop, no matter what.” I squeeze his lat lovingly, and nod in comprehension. “We’ll start tomorrow.” *** He was no fool. James knew what he had asked me to do. And I had been fully aware when I accepted. I was not surprised, knowing him as intimately as I did. But it was important that this final stage was done by mutual consent, given its end point. On the hand it pained me, loving him as I did. But on the other, this was destiny. It was meant to be. Quite simply, we were going to grow him to immobility and beyond. We did not know how long it would take, only that it would happen. Even his body, resilient as it was, could not endure the process forever. But in so doing, we would live in sublime happiness, exploring the extremities of humanly possible muscle growth. Full-time care, immobility...these were steps on the road. He would die in the end, but he would die a god. First off was helping him wash. My shower was a large walk-in one, meaning both of us easily fit. I gently cleaned every inch of his body - which he could no longer easily do - worshipping him along the way. I didn’t take long before he was on his knees milking me once again. Then it was straight to work. He came on the spot when I injected him with the first dose of his new cycle - one so extreme even the hardened pros would turn it down. He bowed his head in embarrassment, waiting to be punished. I stroked his cheek, raising his head to meet my gaze, smiled and lightly kissed him. “I’ll forgive my boy’s overexcitement this time...just don’t make a habit of it.” With the steroids (and other things) flowing through him, we made love for the first time. I straddled his roid gut, my erection thrusting proudly forward, and looked upon his body, laying spread-eagle beneath me. It was as if I were an aeroplane, flying over the most beautiful landscape below. Acres of muscle stretched in all directions, complete with mountains, valleys and forests. I took a moment to again admire what we had built. And to think it was just the beginning. What would he look like at 350? 400? The best days were still to come. On that note, I dived down to beginning worshipping his muscles once again. An hour later he was on all fours, his enormous backside - two globular glutes the size of my torso - thrust outward. It was time for me to claim him. I was no especial fan of anal sex per se, but this was a symbolic act...and I couldn’t deny that the thought of conquering my massive boy was rather enticing. I scrambled up the huge leg muscles to mount him, noting the ludicrous size difference between us. My tiny body perched upon his Herculean one. I positioned myself, and breathed deeply, before cleanly thrusting all the way inside him in a single motion. He groaned like a horse, and his glutes bucked into my hips, almost sending me flying from the strength. Fortunately, I was using his shoulders as rather sturdy handholds. After another pause while he recovered his composure, I then began thrusting. It didn’t take long before my own composure was lost, and I was pounding him like a jackhammer, with all the power I could muster. He absorbed that power as if it were nothing (and to him, it wasn’t). But he was in ecstasy, roaring with pleasure every time I thrusted. “Conquer me Sir, breed your growing boy...make me immobile…” “You wanna get bigger, little boy?” I panted. “Please Sir, make me bigger...grow me…” he begged. “What was that?” I teased, thrusting ever faster, sweat running down my forehead. “Please, grow me...grow me...GROW ME!” he screamed, as I came inside him. My puny body spasmed uselessly against his grotesquely overgrown mass, firing every last drop of cum I had into him. He was also spasming, but desperately trying not to cum. My edict remained in place, after all: he could only cum with my permission. And I hadn’t given it - deliberately. His eyes rolled back in his head, hips bucking like a bull, as I clung on, fingers digging into his shoulders. After a couple of minutes the bucking slowed, and came to a stop. He’d held it in. I loosened my grip, and stroked his cheek and withdrew from his arse (he whimpered as I did so), the glutes twitching as if hungry for more. “Good boy,” I told him, smiling in the aftermath of our love. “Now, you go to the gym. If you come back pumped enough I may just let you pleasure yourself.” He nodded like a puppy, and I kissed him. *** He stood naked in front of my wide mirror, studying his reflection as he casually flexed different muscles. His cock was hard, throbbing rhythmically. I came up behind him. “What’s up?” I asked. He brought his arms up for a double biceps, the engorged muscles ballooning larger than his head. I couldn’t help but suck in air, and my cock twitched heavily. He brought them down after a couple of seconds. “I’m a freak, aren’t I? How big I am, how much I’ve grown, that I still want to get bigger...all of it. I’m sick in the head.” I nod. No point in denying it now, given how far he’s gone. I had decided we’d only weigh him every 6 months, to increase the suspense. It had been 3 months since we’d met at the station, and he’s visibly grown since them. I’d guess he was somewhere in the 320s, but at his size it was hard to tell. “You are, yes. It isn’t ‘normal’ to want to do what you’ve done. But then I’m not ‘normal’ for finding it the most beautiful and erotic thing on Earth. If you’re ill, so am I.” I shrug at that, and put my arms around his waist, my chin resting on his mountainous shoulder. “We’re happy, right?” He nods back, smiling softly. “Happier than I’ve ever been. I feel alive for the first time. Knowing that I have built this body. Knowing that every day I’m bigger. Knowing that I’m growing with the man I love.” He turns his head to me, eyes giving me that ‘this is my soul you’re about to see’ look. “This feeling, this lifestyle,” he continues, “Is all I’ve ever wanted. Please...make it never stop.” I smile and kiss him gently. “I’ll do my best.” He picks me up, carries me over to the settee, and sits me down on his lap. This has become a habit of ours, where we’ll snuggle and read together. His enormous quads provide a more-than-ample cushion for me, and his pecs are perfect to rest my head against. His arms enclose around me, enveloping me in walls of muscle. There is little more soothing and comforting for me. I immediately feel myself relaxing into his muscles, feeling them push back against my feeble weight. We do this every day, and every couple of sessions I can feel he’s bigger. Something’s a little harder, or sticks out a little more, or is a little heavier. It’s exhilarating. We’re currently reading Tolstoy’s War and Peace. A bit of long one, I know, but I felt its theme was appropriate to our situation. James enjoyed it as much as I did, hearing of lost characters stumbling through life’s twists and turns, coming together in love. There was more than a passing equivalence to our own tale, we both thought. Not to mention the book was simply great, truly one of the greatest works of literature humanity has ever produced. We sit there in silence, reading one page at a time, occasionally giving small reactions - a chuckle to something humorous, or a tsk when some character is being a dick (not uncommon in War and Peace). I always finished the two pages first, with him a few seconds behind; when he finished, he’d give a sign - usually by flexing a muscle - and I’d turn the page and we’d carry on. *** 358lbs. He groaned as I announced it, precum leaking from his desperately hard cock. 68lbs in 6 months. Slower than his previous rate, but to be expected given his size now. Still damn impressive. I had worshipped his ballooning body every single day of those 6 months. Knowing that his muscles were bigger each and every time my lips and hands touched them was pure sex to me. Stretch marks spread from his armpits across his shoulders, pecs and lats, as his body struggled to keep up with the process. Discovering new ones when I sampled his body was a small joy in and of itself. His face - his beautiful, handsome face - wore a look of perpetual bliss, the pleasure centres of his brain firing constantly from the unceasing cycle of lifting, eating, roids, worship and sex. Our love had only grown with his body, making the last 6 months the best of both of our lives. We were perfect fits in every way. And there was still so much more to come. I took a moment to look upon the monumental body we had built together. His head was framed by traps that nearly brushed his ears, and sat atop a thick bull-neck. That neck flowed into shoulders so broad he couldn’t fit through door frames, each shoulder the size of a football, the three caps of muscle fighting each other for space. From those boulder-like shoulders hang arms the size of tree trunks. Horseshoe triceps that thrust three inches outwards when he flexed, and biceps bigger than his head made for upper arms approaching 30 inches in circumference. After them came forearms the size of my legs, contoured with the striations of the muscles and coated in a perfectly soft layer of light brown hair. I liked to stroke my cheek with that hair when we lay in bed together. Then came his pecs. Pecs had always been my favourite muscles, and James carried the most enormous pair I had ever seen (virtually or physically). They were the size of pillows, with a cleavage so deep it swallowed my hand all the way to my wrist. Sagging under their own weight, it took nearly a second for him to bounce the whole muscle, creating this glorious slow-motion ripple effect of muscle as he did so. The ensemble was completed by a coat of soft fur that made them sublime to rest my head on. The width of his shoulders required him to turn sideways to get through doors, and the thickness of his pecs meant doors were becoming narrow in that orientation as well. Just another step on the road. Worshipping those gigantic mounds of muscle alone could make me cum. Below his prodigious pec shelf came his roid gut. 8 abs, each the size of my hand, ideal for running my tongue over. I particularly enjoyed lapping up the sweet gym sweat from the crevices between each of the muscles. If it hadn’t been for the rest of his muscle, the gut would’ve made him look obese from its size. The gut was framed by a set of lats that stretched over a foot outwards when he flexed, forcing his arms to rest at a 40 degree angle to his sides, and fjords of intercostal muscles. It was as if every muscle in his body, from the greatest to the smallest, was stupendously overgrown. It served to give his abdomen the appearance of a granite column. Then came his manhood. Permanently erect from the sheer pleasure of his vast body, and from being high on an obscene cocktail of drugs, his penis stood at proud attention, almost saluting our efforts to make him even bigger. It was framed by two mammoth sets of quads, each bigger than his waist (which was very bloated from his roid gut), the four heads of muscle engaged in a ferocious battle of space. They bulged out in a landscape of peaks and troughs, taking up so much space that James found walking tiring. Each step required him to swing his leg out wide to get it around his other leg; it was slow, tiring work but gave him a delightful lumbering waddle. The bulging quadriceps flowed into calves the size of my head, rising an inch outward when flexed. Even his feet had accommodate his ever-increasing weight. I spent the whole day worshipping every millimetre of that body, culminating in me claiming him with such passion I nearly passed out. As we snuggled in bed afterwards, my head resting on his pec (he covered the whole bed nowadays), I softly asked him an important question. “Where next?” I sensed him pondering the question. Although I wanted him to get bigger (limits were for the weak), it was important that we both understand where each of us was coming from. His size was having a lot of consequences for him now, and if he didn’t want to go further I would accept that. There was more than enough of him to enjoy as was; more would of course be nice, but not essential. I felt a rumble develop through his pec, indicating he was about to speak, and looked up to his (still boyishly handsome) face. He was smiling, but his voice carried worry that I doubted him, that I wasn’t going to make him bigger. “I’m still mobile, Sir. You promised to make me immobile. I’m still just a little boy. Please Sir, make me a big boy. Please.” It was partly sex talk, but also serious. I flashed him my smile. “You won’t be mobile for much longer if I have anything to do with it, believe me. We’ll make you a big boy, you have my word.” His smile broadened with simple joy.

Back in Birmingham. The containment team get to the house. The J team they like to be called. James, a 36-year-old police sergeant and the leader of the two younger members of the team Jake and Jack. Jake is 22, and Jack is 23 years old. The J team is all gay; it was not planned that way just the shared a house as they did not have wives and kids and got talking and found out they like guys. James and Jack came up the front path to see a hole in the side of the house. They looked at each other thinking “What the hell did that!” James signalled on the radio “going in”. James and Jack entered the house in full body armour and a gas mask. Jake opened the back door and went into the house and checked the kitchen and bathroom. Then they have entered the living room with all broken furniture and plaster on the floor. All the J team shouted “Armed Police!” The room was empty the J – Team relaxed James clicked his radio “All clear in the house.” All of them lower their weapons, and Jake and Jack take off their gas masks. “Look at this place looks like a JCB has been in here,” Jake said, kicking some rubble and broken glass. “Yeah looks like someone took the guys before we got here” as Jack kick some timber and it lands on a box and smashes all the bottles of super flu poppers. James takes off his gas mask “well guys looks like we need to get out of here before this place comes down”. “Yes looks like it will not be long,” Jack said “what's that smell” added Jake. All three took a deep breath, “Humm smells like poppers” said Jake with a glint in his eye. The J teams cocks twitched as they remembered the first time they tried poppers in their shared house. Jake and Jack took another deep breath and filled their lungs with the poppers. James looked at Jake “looks like you are getting a bit hot under the collar Jakey boy!” as they all looked down at Jake’s body armour around his nut sack. It was moving like he was getting hard. James took a prolonged intake of air a poppers “breath it in boys, then let's get back to the police van.” Jake did as James did, but Jack could not his body armour was tight. Then a few seconds later, James and Jakes body armour was uncomfortable too. All three could not move as the armour was no too tight “what the FUCK is happening” Jack said breathlessly with some panic. “I don’t know,” said James trying to remove his ball armour as his nuts and cock were swelling. At the same time, he was trying to sound calm. “FUCKKK!” shouted Jake as the straps of his body armour on his legs snapped and his police issue trousers ripped open, and James and Jack watched as thick cords of thick muscle continued to rip apart his trousers. His quads pulsed with power his skin was covered in thick man fur as veins pop to the surface and feed the growing muscle. His calves swelled ripping open the lace of his high boot by lace. His thick growing bubble butt tore the trousers in two then his boxer shorts ripped on longer supported by any other material, and a huge cock flopped to the floor with two substantial rugby balls resting on his now thick bodybuilder's legs. Jake could not see how much his limbs had grown, his dense veiny pulsing muscle of a Greek god. As he was trying to open his Kevlar jacket, Jake started to unzip the jacket when his biceps and triceps started to bulk. They all where built guys in the J team but his thick vein down his bicep now was on a growing peak of dense muscle and his triceps are swelling to the size of a regular guys leg. Finally, his armour opens, and his thick mountains of muscle rip open his police shirt. But now even if he could open his Kevlar jacket, he would not be able to get it over his now monstrous delts and biceps his forearms are now as thick as his arms were. Boom went the fibres of the Kevlar jacket, and Jakes ballooning pecs and massive thick lats force open the Kevlar jacket. A few seconds later he heard two more booms as the other members of the J team break free from their Kevlar prison. Jake did not have time to check out the others as he ran a hand over his rock hard thick abs. “Fuck I am a muscle god” as his hand touched his rich man bush and he looked down. “Fuck look at my stuff” he shouted, as his thick cock came out of his man bush thick as a python running over the top of his colossal basketball sized nuts hung down to his knees. His bell end is touching the floor oozing pre-cum. He tried to turn around to show new his size to the other guys, but his thick thighs pushed open his legs. Making his balls hang lower. Jake felt pain in his feet as he moved then the sound of leather ripping could be heard as his feet bust open what was left of his boots. “AHHH! Yess!” Exclaimed Jake, now he was naked he looked at his hand and flexed his forearms “Fuck I am still growing!” shouted Jake”. “Fuck, YESSS, we are still growing!!!” shouted James and Jack. Jake Looked up to see James and Jack naked also. James was thick with man fur, and his pecs were huge round mounds of muscle his shoulders had to be as wide as a bus. Both of the men or muscle beasts sported a thick V Jacks shoulders were not as wide as James’s. But Jack was taller 7 ft and still growing, his legs are thick and muscled like Jakes but looked more powerful. The J team grunted as their bones lengthened, and their bodies grew broader and thicker. The men's dicks started to fill with hardening as they looked at each other. Their voices grew deeper and thicker like there muscles. The J team did not notice that six huge muscle teens were watching then grow from the massive hole in the side of the house. All of us watching the “hot fuzz” grow as big as we are? Jordan spoke up “How do you like your new weapons officers” as all of the teens had been pumping their hard super cocks watching the policemen grow. James looked up, and Jack and Jake slowly turned around all sporting massive hard-ons. “Not bad” shouted James lifting his now superhuman arm and flexing it. James looked and the peak it was huge and was the size of a yoga ball. Then it happened Nick could not help it “Fuuuuccckkkk!” as a full torrent of cum flow from Nicks heavy cock. The J team watched as all our teen balls started to churn and raise to our huge fuck poles. Volley after volley of hot jizz hit the J team they where covered. Every inch of their now thick muscled bodies was covered in cum. To our surprise, the huge men did not move, and after the last drop of cum hit the ground in front of them. They started to lick the cum off there faces at first then off each other. We just looked on in amazement as James started licking Jakes pecs and arms and Jake licked the hot cum from Jacks' arms. James then said “OK boys lets show them what the Police can fire” then lined up jacking there huge cocks. We licked their lips as slowly the J teams huge nut sack raised. Jake was the first “Fucckk!” as the cum flowed again this time on to us. Then all three police guys covered us in cum. The Cum smelt sweet like honey, I could not help it I licked Dan’s huge arm and sweaty armpit “hmm sweat, and law men's cum tastes good” with that we charged up to the three policemen and started licking all the cum off each other like a troop of huge muscle monkeys. All the hot sexual pressure and huge muscles with huge balls; therefore, tons of testosterone our dick started to get hard again. James shouted “Stop; there will be another team sent soon as we have not reported in” everyone was quiet (apart from the odd sound of a colossal muscle beast licking the last bit of cum from their face). The radio could be heard “Sargent do you read”. Jack looked at the other eight massive muscle monsters thick and gleaming with sweat, cum and spit. “We need to hide, but look at us all,” he said, pointing to his large body then his growing cock. “We can hide in the wood in the park until we can work out what to do,” I said. Nick looked at me “what are we going to do until then?” he said as he flexed his pecs and then huffed is huge cock and balls. Jake leaned forward and felt Nicks thick muscles and kissed then sucked Nick nipple “I am sure we can find something,” Jake said with a wink.

just love this story so much I did a little doodle trying to visualize how Seth looked at the end the drawing was meant to follow the stats at first but it ended up with lots of exaggerations (sorry, couldn’t help! I’m addicted to biceps that defeat almost all other muscle groups, and of course a HUGE cock) there are Seth’s flaccid/ half-erect/ full-erect dicks and a 5’4 man figure to be compared took a lot longer than I expected to get this done, too horny to focus on drawing (happened quite a few times) just gonna say thank you to Dredlifter for such amazing story and all your previous works! (also have a doodle for Dad’s Lost Glory Years lol)

- Chapter 4 - Meet The Perfect Subject "Hey, what are these?" My roommate holds up a stack of bills, which I did not realise it was there at the counter. He managed to see the sender before I do, and shit - it was the sound system company. "What were you doing? Soundproofing the house?" He asked me, half-jokingly. I panicked a little and told him that I have issues sleeping, and so I thought this might help. He nodded, seemingly accepted my answer. He put down the bills and walked over to the sink. "I'll get this done." He points at the dirty dishes and gets to work. "Phew, that was a close one." I scolded myself a little and reminded myself to be more careful with my plan. I'm glad he didn't press on further, but is that a little too easy? I shook my head and ignored it, for now, maybe I'm just overthinking this. I'll admit: I'm a useless piece of shit. What moral, what conscience - it's not happening, or rather, not giving me any self-control to stop this at once. With this power at hand, I am imagining all sorts of possibilities I can make of Charles. I look over to Charles as he washes the dishes - his wide shoulders are now looking like fitness model now, but I secretly want more. His lean body mass now adorned by visible veins, running down his arms. I shudder a little, I have a thing with muscles. I like my men big, you see - the bigger, the better. I was looking at Charles scrubbing the pots and pans, the rhythmic pattern sends vibration up his pillowy pecs and they bounce a little with every motion. I want him even bigger and I'm dying to make him even bigger. My cock responded faster than I did, I quickly turn away before it gets too obvious. "All done! Thanks for your awesome dinner tonight, man." Charles stretches his arm over his head, giving me the first view of his cobblestone abs. I swallowed my saliva, trying hard to hold myself from touching him. I nonchalantly wave back at him and he adjourned to his bedroom after waving back at me. My heart skips a beat when I hear the lock clicks and I quickly get to work. I swear I did not waste a single second as I switched on my computer and opened the script. It's time for a major upgrade for the script. I went through the script line by line, making sure I add every little detail to create my perfect subject. I'd probably let my lust took over me for a bit as I frantically type away, editing the script in its extreme details. I dropped in more muscle growth, setting his body to the maximum anabolic state. I optimised his hormone output, making sure that he's growing bigger, but not losing hair with the excessive testosterone. He would get a little hairier, a little taller and a little more promiscuous - flirtatious even, from the boost of the male hormone. To get the script lock and loaded from the inside out, I address self-image issues in the script. I wrote at length on how all we are is a mere human, what we have is just a body, you know the whole "taking care of your temple and share it with the world" kinda thing. I make him very competitive in the gym, and I make him feel very aroused after every set he lifts. It will arouse him immensely, he will crave from this release and the amazing euphoria that comes after every productive gym session. I also added in the part that grows his cock huge, as if it's a part of the muscles in his body. Then, I will increase his cum production in his heavy sack of balls. This is about to get interesting. Though I'm not sure if so many new suggestions would be the most efficient way to approach this, I am too horny at this point to analyse these factors. I save the script and let it run throughout the night like I always do. I look up at the clock and realised I've spent 3 hours on this - I too adjourned to my bedroom. That night, I have the most erotic dream about Charles, and strangely, me. I dreamt of us, growing into this muscular behemoth and woke up with the hardest morning wood in my entire life. "I need to take care of this, quick." I chuckle a little and dash into the bathroom.

Scott had been born with a special gift... a gift that laid dormant in his body until activated by the right person. Scott had always had sensitive nipples, and loved having them rubbed. Nipple play got him so hard! However, he didn’t realize that this nipple stimulation (when done correctly) would unleash a power inside him he didn’t know was there. Jacob was aware of Scott’s special gift... Jacob was a Macrophile...he was obsessed with giants and finding those capable of becoming giants. He’d found a few in his past, but none with the potential that he sensed in Scott. Jacob spotted Scott’s energy in a club the night before. He flirted with him and invited Scott back to his place for the night. Scott was looking forward to their evening of passionate sex. One thing lead to another, Scott and Jacob were both naked passionately fucking. Scott had never felt so good in his LIFE! It was like Jacob knew ALL the spots that turned him on! Especially his nipples! Jacob had what seemed like a fixation on Scott’s nipples. Little did Scott know... Jacob was activating Scott’s inner potential. “Oh FUCK!” yelled Scott, “How are you doing that so well??”.... Scott was hard as rock, dripping pre cum from the constant nipple play. Scott was in heaven. The sense of ecstasy started to evolve within him.... he looked down at Jacob’s eyes, they were fierce and determined... like he had some alterior motive in mind. Scott felt his cock pulse and pulse like normal until ..”STRETCH”... one pulse pushed his cock to a new length. Then again “Stetch” the pulsing sensation added a full inch onto his previously 8″ cock! “What are you doing to me!?” Scott exclaimed.... “my cock is... fuck, is it GROWING?”.... Jacob continued working Scott’s nipples ravenously. Scott’s Cock grew from 8 to 9 to 12 inches in a matter of moments. It felt AMAZING. He couldn’t believe his eyes! He then felt a stirring sensation in his feet, his size 13 feet were STRETCHING!! He felt them stretch across the fabric! They must have been size 15′s! Then it hit his calves and thighs.... his leg muscles pulsing and tensing, growing and shaking. The sensation was unstoppable. He felt his lower body grow out of his control... he knew Jason was doing it, but he didn't know how! Scott Moaned “FUUUUCCKKK!!”.... “How are you making me so....” *his sentence was interrupted by a burp, and suddenly his voice deepened about one octave* “BIG???” “Oh God!! Don’t STOP!!!” He bellowed. (Jacob had no intentions to do so! ) Soon Scott’s upper body began taking on its new form. Each muscle expanding and growing... larger, larger... and LARGER. His entire body was sweating from the transformation. His nipples seemed to be enlarging as well, like they’d been pumped or something. They were poking out, they were HUGE! Scott sat up in astonishment. He felt his frame expand... he was getting taller, wider, BIGGER! By the minute!! Jacob was latched onto his erect nipples. *CRASH* The furniture snapped below Scott’s crushing weight!! He laid on the floor, growing, stretching, filling Jacobs apartment! Scott no longer fit on the floor so he sat up in the crouched position, his head smashed into the ceiling ... books falling from shelves, ground shaking all around them. Jacob fell to the floor and looked up at the giant he had unleashed. Scott stopped growing for a moment ... looked down at Jacob, smiled and said “we’re not even close to done!!” Scott lifted Jacobs little body up to his nipples, rubbing Jacobs body all over his erect nipples... Jacob’s cum oozing all over... making his nipple erections wet. Scott had never felt such POWER! The stimulation of Jacobs body on his nipples caused a HUGE surge of growth! The building collapsed around them, Scott towered over the apartment complex. Smashing the building with his giant feet. He held Jacob in his hand... he soon was as tall as the skyscrapers. His body kept growing taller and taller, his nipples filling with more and more fluid. Becoming so huge, they looked like satellite dishes!! Jacob looked up with a smile... “this is what I always dreamed would happen”. Scott growled as his body continued to surge with GROWTH! Veins popping out EVERYWHERE! His cock as long as 2 city buses! His nipples needed to be milked! He squeezed his right pec, a clear cum like fluid oozed out all over the town below. A crowd of onlookers mindlessly licking it up... he kept milking himself, towering over the city! Soaking the onlookers with his milk. They craved it... it sustained them! Those who’d been drinking the milk would soon transform into beats themselves. Jacob begged Scott... “feed me, MASTER! FEEEED MEE!” Scott lifted Jacob up to his chest... Jacob expected to suck Scott’s nipples with his mouth. Instead , Scott turned Jacobs little body around and pushed Jacobs tight ass hole over his erect nipple .... fucking his little hole and pumping him full of milk. His nipple tips were bigger than any cock Jacob had ever taken... Jacob had no idea Scott would be feeding him THAT way! He was pleasantly surprised. Being fucked this way felt incredible.... But it’s not like he had a choice ! Scott was the god who did whatever he wanted. Because Jacob had been injected analy, his growth was almost instant. Moaning “FUUUUUUCCCCKKKKK MEEEEEE” as he grew to Scott’s size. The two giants worshiped each other... rolling over city streets and buildings. They were insatiable. They were alpha beasts. They were unstoppable. They’re enormous cocks dripping cum! Their nipples as as big as silos. They were obsessed with each other’s new bodies... The little people on the streets all BEGGING to be fed by their GODS! Jacob and Scott looking down... laughing... .....as if they were going to let anyone get as big as they were.

I enjoy the buildup of this, it isn’t just “he weighed 150, now he’s 400...” which is always great but it’s nice to see stories like this

Apologies for the (ridiculously long) delay everyone, had a lot of stuff going on and my motivation to continue writing faded somewhat. A few days back it returned, however, so I have finally written Part 3, which comes in at just over 2400 words. Without further ado, enjoy! Part 3: the metamorphosis Bodybuilding. Perhaps the most beautiful word in the English language. It just rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it? Bo-dy-build-ing. For me, it is synonymous with sex. The very word is erotic, is it not? When I hear it, I think of men bloated with muscle, of overdeveloped bodies so swollen they cannot be clothed...of men desperate to force themselves ever bigger, no matter what it takes. Men driven by the insatiable lust for more, more, more. You are perhaps wondering what it is that I get out of this. It’s not control, despite what you may think at first glance. I do not control his actions, I do not force him to grow. Every single step was his choice. I simply gave him the support he needed to do what he had always wanted. The ‘control’ I exercise is merely a tool to focus his mind. So I reject the label of ‘evil controller’. I will concede some slight manipulation, but you must agree it was necessary to help him overcome the constraints society had placed on him? To allow him to become what he had always wanted? What I truly get out of this is joy. The muscle is sexy, don’t mistake me. But it’s the journey, the process, the determination in his heart that truly satisfies me. Seeing him become the man he has always dreamed of being, day by day, pound by pound. Sharing in his development, his transcendence of humanity, is what gives me purpose and happiness. I had a front-row seat to the greatest show on Earth, and damned if I wasn’t going to watch it. Stage 2 involved a punishing routine of steroids, and an escalation of the dietary and exercise regime he had followed in the earlier months. This was not a pure test, like the first stage, but rather a process of getting the boy huge with maximum speed. I liked efficiency, after all. I’m not here for a slow ride. In essence, his body was given a choice: grow, or die. It chose to grow. As I knew it would. The hunger was unchained, and he was like a man possessed. I suppose he was, really. The old him, the skinny boy who secretly lusted after muscle but could never talk about it, was long gone. This was a new man. Even I, who had seen hungry boys before, was surprised by the vigour with which he pounded the weights, stuffed himself with food and dosed himself with roids. As before, I forbid him from weighing or pleasuring himself. This focused his mind on the goal, and allowed him to truly savour the process and the changes he forced upon his body. The boy was drowning in the euphoric orgy of his growth, gorging his hunger so much that not even my assigned programme could keep up. On the one hand it was almost sickening seeing the changes being wrought on his body, what he was doing to himself. But on the other, it was entrancing, erotic and glorious. I was making a monster - and I loved it. He was growing faster than I could ever have hoped. The armpit stretch marks deepened and spread, forking over his pecs, shoulders and lats like the tributaries of a river. That pec shelf began to sag under its own mass, nipples forced downward, overhanging a granite column that was his abdomen, thick with layers of muscle. His shoulders were rounded cannonballs with three leads, capping arms like hams with thick veins feeding the bloated muscles. Tree trunk thighs, so thick he began to waddle, and barn door lats completed the picture. The intricate musculature of his back was like a stone relief, each individual muscle carved by a master sculptor, tensing into fine relief with each movement. The boy looked like a bodybuilder already. *** If I must be labelled, I would rather be called an artist. From my paints of control, lust and muscle I was producing a masterpiece. Perhaps even my magnum opus, my greatest work. A portrait of male potential, the finest example of the male form. The most beautiful man there had even been; enough to make the Greeks weep (and they had good taste). A little boy buried in hundreds of pounds of overgrown muscle. A boy who had sacrificed it all to become a man; to fulfil his deepest, truest desire. 5 months into Stage 2 I had to up the steroid dosages. He was pulling ahead of my wildest projections; I might as well make the most of his potential. He nearly came on the spot when I told him (in one of our weekly video calls) that I was upping the dosages. His hips were bucking involuntarily, his pecs jiggling from the movement, high-pitched groans leaking from his mouth, his lips pursed in ecstasy. This was his life now, after all...he had discarded everything else to embrace this: growth without end. It was his sexuality. “So big...not enough...more...more…” he desperately stuttered, his brain drowning in pleasure. I intervened. “Don’t you dare,” I commanded. “If you cum, we’re over.” “Ugh!” he half-screamed. Quick, sharp breaths and some admirable self-control saw him slow and then stop the bucking. A lot of pre-cum had leaked from his still-hard cock, but I decided to forgive him that. I was pleased that he’d managed to control himself, and flashed him my smile. He smiled back, his hair plastered to his face with sweat, panting heavily. Our eyes met. Rivulets of sweat ran down his heaving musculature - I guessed he weighed around 220lbs now - and his skin glistened. He looked like a serious bodybuilder, biceps the size of his head, the works. The sweat pooled in the crevice between his slab-like pecs. His chest had originally been smooth, but was now coated with a soft down of light brown hair. I was overcome by a desire to lick the sweat off of that beautiful chest, savouring every fibre of overgrown muscle, feeling them twitch and undulate as he bounced them (yes, I have an especial taste for succulent pecs). He was stunning, even beyond the muscles. He had always been good-looking in a boyish way, but his handsomeness had grown along with his body. His face had grown leaner, accentuating his cheekbones, while the facial muscles had become subtly more pronounced, giving his face a distinctly angular and manly appearance. That face made my knees weak. I, who had owned so many boys before, found myself falling for this one. The greatest one yet. My greatest specimen, my greatest achievement. After what must have been a good ten seconds, the moment ended and our eyes broke contact, but I could not deny what had passed between us. I was now in uncharted territory. In a strange - and unexpected way - I found myself liking it. What was this? Was I falling for a boy? Growing soft? The shame! There was something about him, though. Not just his hunger, his potential...but I found myself actually liking him, his personality, his quirks. Unknowingly he had become more to me than just a boy to pump full of muscle (although I certainly wanted to do a lot more of that). He had become a person, someone I actually looked forward to talking with, rather than just a trophy to appreciate. He spent the next three months in a frenzy of growth. Even with my experience, I had never seen anything like this. The speed of his growth was nothing short of miraculous, perhaps as much as half a pound a day. His body was transitioning from that of a bodybuilder to a ‘mass monster’ - a hugely bloated mass of muscle, all the more so since he was just 5’7”. His BMI was pushing well into the 40s by this point, I reckoned. Some would say he was grotesque, a freak. I thought he was the most beautiful man I had ever known, and only becoming more so. Did he even have limits? I guess we’d find out soon enough. Muscles spilled in all directions, squashed against each other as they battled for space on his increasingly mammoth body. A pair of triangular traps the size of grapefruits framed his beautiful face, flowing into a neck the size of tree trunk and cannonball shoulders the size of melons. With each movement of his arms, the shoulders rippled with muscle, separating into flaring heads of raw power. Stretch marks - testament to his ballooning body - emerged from his armpits to run over the separations between the muscles. The thick layers of tricep and bicep muscle burst out from those shoulders, his arms rapidly widening in circumference. Each head of the triceps, and the many layers of muscle fibres that made them up, were distinctly visible, forming a landscape of valleys and mountains which raised themselves two inches above his arm when tensed. They were complemented by a splendid pair of biceps which, when unflexed, resembled a thick hunk of meat striped with single large vein. When flexed, they turned into veritable Everests: towering peaks of granite, the muscle bellies thrown into shadow. A faint stretch mark could be seen running the length of the belly. His arms were completed by a pair of densely muscled forearms, coated with a soft down of hair, and a pair of manly hands which had grown thicker from all his lifting. Moving across, you come to his pecs. Great pillows of muscle over four inches thick, sagging under their own mass. Like his shoulders, stretch marks ran from his armpits over the sides of the pillows, joined by rivulets of veins feeding the monstrosities. His pecs had grown so large that when he bounced them it created a wave effect, the whole muscle gradually bouncing as the fibres rippled. His nipples were forced downwards by the swollen masses, which were themselves separated by a deep cleavage that I just itched to run my finger down, gathering his sweet scent. As with his forearms, a soft down of hair completed the picture. The massive pecs overhang a rock-hard muscle gut, which thrusts forwards, straining his waistbands. This was a relatively recent addition to his body, the result of the most recent phase of his growth. 8 blocky abs, deeply etched, stood atop the gut, flanked by tiers of serratus muscles. It was the kind of abdomen you broke your knuckles trying to punch. No way you were going to wind him! Below the abdomen carved out of stone where a pair of quads each the size of tree trunks, fighting for space against each other. They spilled outwards when he sat, searching for room, leaving no gap between them. Each enormous head of muscle perfectly defined, far bigger than my hand. Those quads framed his manhood, which was usually erect nowadays, fed by the ocean of pleasure he found himself in. Diamonds quads, carved from stone, finished off the powerhouse legs. I wanted him more than I had ever wanted something before. His sheer size was beginning have consequences. He couldn’t run anymore - any attempts to do so saw him waddle forward for a couple of metres, panting and nearly falling over (it was terribly erotic, me having ordered him to do it a number of times). He found it hard to shave, as his bulging biceps struggled to get past his swollen pecs. An emerging muscle gut pushed forward through feeble clothes and pressured his waistbands. The breadth of his shoulders required him to turn to get through doorways, and his insane proportions made buying clothes next to impossible. He could only clothe himself in tank tops and gym shorts now. I won’t deny it was a sexy look. He was barely able to fit in his cubicle shower, either. My boy - James - was transcending normality, outgrowing the world that had sought to contain him, the world that had taught his desires were disgusting and obscene; the world that had tried to stop him fulfilling his destiny. Furniture groaned beneath him, not designed to hold so much man. Clothes strained over the enormous expanse of his body, bursting at the seams. This world was built by mortals, for mortals - and he was becoming a god. My god, that is. That’s a possessive ‘my’, by the way, denoting ownership. Remember that. His monstrous body was as much mine as it was his. But he liked it that way. Our partnership had...changed. Our calls became more frequent; soon were were speaking at least every other day, rather than just once a week. And we weren’t just talking about his growth anymore, either - but our interests, hobbies, and who we were. We opened our hearts to each other; he really was no longer just another boy to me. He was James. He liked books, games...the same ones I did. How had I fallen for him? He was smart, funny, and our intellectual interests were closely aligned. We were similar enough to have lots of common ground, but different enough to add dynamism and variety to the relationship. Never before had I yearned for someone, yearned to talk to them, to see them, to feel them. Yet I yearned for him. The sensation was unfamiliar, almost unsettling. My stomach roiled, making it difficult to eat. He strayed into my thoughts regularly, and without warning. Was this love? I didn’t know. How was I supposed to tell? I felt lost, and yet anchored - anchored by him. Whatever this was, it was good. I wanted it to continue, to grow. A year since we had begun. At the start, he had told me that he wanted “to be so huge I can’t live a normal life anymore”. Now, that was happening. He was a complete freak, one of the most muscular men on the planet, increasingly unable to live a normal life. And he loved it. His deepest desires were coming true, with my help. This is what he had always dreamed of, knowingly or not - those childhood dreams of huge men, the teenage wanks to posing bodybuilders, the adult euphoria of his first workouts. It had all been leading to this eventuality; his rebirth, his transcendence, his growth. There had been some unexpected twists - for both of us - as well. What a journey it had been. And to think, there was still so much further to go. It was time to see how big James had really grown, and where we were to go next.

Part 2 here. Again, all feedback is welcomed and appreciated. Part 2: realising his potential Let’s pause on that image for a moment. You may be wondering how we got here? How we ended up watching, through a screen, an overgrown freak wank himself off over the thought of more muscle? You see, I’m a facilitator. An enabler. I provide some muscle-hungry boys the means they require to embrace their destiny, to become the men they have always (knowingly or not) wanted to be. Allow me to elaborate. I’m careful with my selections. There are many boys who want to ‘get huge’. Most of them are unsuitable. I’m not interested in someone who just wants to look ‘hot’, and use their muscles to get sex. I didn’t waste my time on such types. No, the boys I’m interested in aren’t about looks at all. My boys are slaves to their hunger, and their only interest is in feeding it. In growing for the simple pleasure of growing. There is no end, no limit, for the hunger never stops. Like all addicts, these boys seek out those who can support their addiction. I am one of those. I give them the means to dedicate themselves to serving their hunger - and they love me for it. His name was James (not that it matters - he was just a boy; they all are). He was a hot boy of 19, 5’7” and 120lbs when he first reached out, saying he wanted to ‘transcend’. He was shy, embarrassed, and insecure as I probed his desires, his motivations. This was the first time he had discussed the hunger - in any depth anyway - with someone. But I was kind, cajoling and encouraging, and he lapped it up. The answers he gave to my deciding questions told me everything I needed to know. My curiosity was, admittedly, peaked as he poured his heart out to me. At just 19, the poor boy was already completely lost to the hunger, and its appetite was already so voracious. Quite remarkable, considering he hadn’t even indulged it much. I wagered that his potential was incredible. He just needed me to provide him with the release - and the permission - to serve his hunger in full. That’s what they always seek. Freedom from the shame of serving the hunger, and the means to do so. Permission to become a bodybuilder, and ignore society’s judgement of their ‘neurotic’ needs. I am only too happy to provide it, for the right boy - and for the right price. As I said, I’m a facilitator; I provide with all they need to grow, should they wish it. “How big do you really want to get?” “No limits, as big as possible.” “They always say that," I countered. It was true - I had encountered, and quickly discarded, many fantasists in the past. "But few really mean it, or comprehend what it takes -” He interrupts, his voice impassioned but desperate. It was the hunger speaking. He couldn’t afford to lose this opportunity, so he was going to come out of his shell...reveal the hunger in all its glory, in the hope that it would be enough to convince me. “This is all I want. All day, I think about it. Every night, I dream about it. I can’t stop. Nothing else makes me hard anymore. Everything revolves around growing. I don’t want a ‘normal life’. I want to be so huge I can’t live a normal life anymore. But I need your help.” I’m silent while I digest this. Party while I think, partly for the suspense. Don’t judge me. One has to enforce dependency from the beginning. But in truth, he’s affected me more than he realises - I’ve never seen such passion (at this early stage anyway) before. He stands at the edge of abyss, begging me to give him the final nudge to take plunge, and be lost forever. Little did I suspect back then that I would be holding his hand as the abyss took him. Fearing my silence, he whispers (while letting out a sound that can only be described as a sob): “Please...make me bigger…” I give a slight nod, to myself more than him, having come to a decision. He has convinced me with his hunger, his impassioned need. I give him a warm smile. Time to give him the release he craves so much. “Fear not, my poor, starving, boy. I will provide what you need.” Then came my price. It was steep - it always is - but they never spurn my offer. I know them too well. In return for providing everything he needed, I would own him. He was to be chaste, only pleasuring himself when I gave him permission. All my commands had to be followed without question. He was to provide weekly ‘progress reports’. He was to abandon all his life - work, friends, the lot. But most importantly, he had to put on 30lbs of lean muscle in 4 months, or I would discard him. He accepted without hesitation, as I knew he would. The trick was, of course, that I never expected him to reach that goal. It was nigh impossible. But his inevitable failure would only push him deeper into dependency on me, closing the circle. Call me cruel, call me a manipulative bastard if you want. But know this: they could always say no. They never do. He said he’d been working out for a year already, and put on 20lbs. I pretended to care. I was not interested in him for what he was, but for what he would become. I looked at him and saw a concept: the limits of human muscularity. I wondered how far he could go. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before he began to show me. Released from his own psychological constraints, as well as the chains of trying to live a ‘life’, he grew - fast. He lifted twice a day, and when he wasn’t at the gym he gorged himself on food and supplements. I was impressed by his devotion; I didn’t even have to encourage him. This is who he really was. And now he was free. He was visibly bigger for each of our weekly ‘progress reports’ - by which I mean a video chat where he flexed naked live and I examined every minute detail of his body, before asking him questions. He was constantly hard, such was the effect of his rapid growth, but I had not given him permission to pleasure himself. He obeyed the terms of our agreement to the letter. It was 2 months in he began to get the armpit stretch marks that are the telltale sign of a rapidly growing boy. I estimated he’d put on 15lbs already - which impressed me. Could he actually do it? Grow 30lbs in 4 months? Maybe. We’d soon find out. I’d forbidden him from weighing himself, to add to the suspense, but I was good at guessing this sort of thing. Call it experience, if you want. Even at this early stage I was developing a sense of his potential, and that aroused me like little else. His shoulders began to widen, his chest thicken, and arms swell. Separations between his biceps and triceps appeared, while his quads began to develop a shape for the first time. I signalled my approval, and he lapped it up. You would do well to ask whom he was doing all of this for. Himself, or me? Perhaps both. I’ll leave you to think on it. I told him how I was going to make him so big he couldn’t scratch his back. So huge he couldn’t run. So enormously bloated and swollen with muscle he couldn’t even wank. I told him how I was going to destroy his life, make him a freak, leave him a useless heap of muscle. And how that, even after all he had lost everything for muscle, he’d still grow bigger. As I told him his future, all he could do was groan while his cock raged. But I denied him permission to pleasure himself. He continued to grow over the next 2 months. If anything, he picked up the pace, inspired by my prophecy of his future. He’d gone from a lithe hot boy to a well-built gym rat, his body carrying a real heft to it for the first time. He couldn’t even begin to conceal the thrill that coursed through him as he saw his body grow. But, of course, I didn’t want him to. That was all part of the fun. To see him amazed, in awe, at his own body. After 4 months came the moment of truth. He weighed himself live for me. He was clearly terrified that he’d not met my 30lbs requirement. Although that milestone was merely a sham I had conceived to ensnare him, it was clear he’d gone much further - to my surprise, I must say - but I wasn’t about to tell him that. I was nonetheless intrigued to see just how much he’d grown, however. Neither of us had to wait long. 157lbs. He let out a sigh of relief. 37lbs of muscle in 4 months. I was impressed, and gave him a smile to show I was pleased - the first time I had done so. He licked his lips in response, and began flexing for me. There was a confidence, a cockiness, in him - the boy liked his new muscle. “Have I grown enough, Sir?” My smile faded as my eyes met his own. “No,” I replied, deadly serious, my face deadpan. His confidence faltered as did his erection; the desperate boy was still there. He was confident in being my trophy, nothing more. The confidence was submissive in nature - he was entirely dependent on me, and the imbalance between us was only going to grow with his body. It was thrilling. “You’ll need to at least double in size before I think of the word ‘enough’. Don’t ever mention it again.” His raging cock told me exactly what he thought about that, as did his terrified eyes. Terrified at the thought I was not happy with him. That he would fail me. I smiled again to reassure the boy. “But you’ve done well. I’m proud of how much you’ve grown. Time to move up a level.” This was the final step, really. There were more stages to come in this process, but this was the last time he’d be able to walk away. I knew he wouldn’t, of course. I would never have chosen him otherwise. Once he was on the steroids and lost control of his ballooning body, there would be no going back for him. The boy wasn’t stupid - he knew that. But he was willing. Steroids are a crude tool. If I’m honest, I don’t especially like them. They lack the finesse and elegance of natural bodybuilding. Of perfectly disciplined diet and training. That was the true, pure growth. I cannot, however, deny their effectiveness. For extreme and rapid growth, they are an unfortunate necessity. Needs must, as they say. The end justifies the means. His cock, rock hard, twitched and leaked as I detailed what Stage 2 would involve. He moaned as I listed the steroid stacks and cycles he’d be taking. His hunger lapped it all up. It seemed the boy liked steroids more than I did. Or perhaps he liked what they would do to him? I didn’t much care; the result would be the same. “In 8 months’ time - a year since we began - you must weigh 250lbs, or I will discard you.” There was a sharp intake of breath, his cock tensed, and his hand moved to grasp it...but his control won out, and his hand stopped mid-air. I had not given him permission. I had, however, commanded him to grow 93lbs in just 8 months. It seemed impossible. Normally it would be. It was another sham milestone, like the last. But with him, perhaps not. Time would tell. With the hunger, growth will come naturally. I couldn’t wait to see my 5’7” boy that swollen. My cock (hidden from his view, of course) aches at the thought. It would be glorious...but still only the Second Stage. His eyes were begging me, his breath ragged, but he dare not ask. I gave him my smile again, and saw him melt. “Pleasure yourself, my growing boy. You’ve earned it.”

If you like it let me know and i will continue making it. _________________________________________ A muscular white man was sitting next to a sleeping baby. He had a dark red beard and hair and bright green eyes. He sat with crossed arms wich made his big biceps bulge and wide open huge legs. His eyes looked tired but he kept a beautiful happy grin. -Markus, darling- a beautiful woman entered to the room. She put her hands on top of his husband huge shoulders. -Matthew will be fine don't worry- - I know i know, sorry. I was just wondering how he will be when he grows up, you know?- - I bet he will be as hung as his father- she said as one of her hand travelled past his balloon like pecs and grabbed his enormous package. Markus laughed in a deep manly voice. - not in front of the baby darling!- he stood up and kissed his wife in the mouth and as he lifted her he said - let's go to bed- ------------------------------------------------------------ Chapter 1 Matt woke up from what had been a horrible nightmare. He didn't remember the details but it had to do with his mother. He walked to the bathroom with a slow pace, it was saturday. His 5.6 feet body felt tired although he hadn't made any exercise the day before. He stood in front of the mirror, his deep blue eyes were the first thing that you would notice in his face. Then short hair black as coal and a cute face structure. His body was lean and hairless, he was what you would define as a twink even though he wasn't gay. He entered the shower and started washing his puny body. Today it was his 17 birthday but there was not going to be any celebration. When he had finished washing his 6 inches dick he dried his hair and went out of the shower with the towel on his waist. Matt felt his stomach rumble and decided to grab something to eat. He went down the stairs to the kitchen and opened the door. There he found his father ,Markus preparing a sandwich. Although he was already 45 years old he was still huge. His arms where as big as a basketball and his thighs looked as if they could break the world in two. His shoulder were really broad and his pecs covered with manly dark hair, looked gigantic to any human beings. He was just wearing boxer that could barely contain his round big ass and huge crotch. He didn't have the abs he had before but his belly was still flat and looked hard. -Hello dad- Matt said walking rapidly ro the fridge. Markus didn't answer he just growled. He was as gloomy as always since matt’s mother died. They never talked to each other a lot, just some “hello” and “goodbye” now and then. Markus sat his 7feet tall body in his couch and scratch his bulge obscenely. The doorbell rang and suddenly Matt was excited. He opened the door and as planned uncle Henry was coming to visit. He was younger than his dad, 35 years old and plays rugby with younger men. He is 6.5feet tall of raw muscle and masculinity power and much more fun than his dad. Golden grows over his head and his body stretches the rugby uniform. He has the greatest ass Matt has ever seen and although he is not gay he always thought about how it would feel to grab it. -we are going on a road trip- the visitor said ------------------------------------------------------------- -So I got two rooms one for you and your father and the other one for me- Markus didn't really know how they had gotten there. He had asked his brother to come to celebrate his son's birthday so he wouldn't to do it himself and now the were on a cabin in the middle of nowhere going to share a room with his son. Is not that he doesn't love his son, it’s just that he could never relate to him and when his wife died the bond just… broke. But his brother seemed really excited about it so he wasn't going to say anything. As the sun hided behind the mountain they decided to go to sleep. There was an awkward moment when Mark and Matt entered the room and saw that they will be sharing the same queen bed. Markus undressed and got inside the bed, a little bit afterwards he felt his son doing the same. As he slept he remembered how he used to sleep with his wife. His dick got hard. ------------------------------------------------------------- Matthew was woken up at 8:00AM by the smell of bacon and eggs. His dad's arm was on top of him not letting him stand up. He grabbed his powerful bicep and with a lot of caution he moved it. He stood up and glanced the sleeping body of his father, he was occupying most of the bed with his muscle. Matt wasn't prepared for what he saw in the kitchen, his uncle was standing naked while cooking and singing. -Oh! You are awake come here!- Henry turned around to receive his nephew. For his age he had a tight six pack and beautiful pecs. He looked like one of those 25 year old rugby players but with the face of a model. But the most shocking thing was his huge dong and 8 inches flaccid monstrosity that hanged between his hard rock legs. It was a fat cock and Matt couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to have its weight on his hands. Henry hugged Matthew and grabbed his ass pressing his cock on the young’s man abs. -YOU HAVE A NICE ASS SON!- Henry said. And he was right, a precious bubble but steached his pants and bounced with each step. - what are you cooking?- Matt said trying to ignore the awkward moment that he just lived. -Oh this?- Henry said as he stood behind him and grabbed his shoulder to get him closer to the cooking pan. -This is my special recipe- now he pressed his huge cock in Matt's butt and moved his mouth closer to his right ear as he whispered in a deep voice. -Uncle Henry's recipe- now Matt was uncomfortable, he could feel through his jeans the hard pressing hot roid of his uncle starting to move. -what are you doing?- Markus had woken up and he was standing confused as the sight of his naked brother with his son. Henry jumped scared by the voice and took a step away from Matt. -Nothing I was just showing your son the breakfast aaaaand i think its ready! Let's eat!- As they were eating in the table Matt felt Henry's hand touching his leg and crotch. It will be a long weekend

Big Billy “Billy where are you this isn’t funny?” called Macey stepping into the large, dark barn. Playing with a lock of her long, blonde hair, Macey contemplated just turning around and heading back to the house. She knew she shouldn’t be in her Pa’s barn he’d even forbade her from coming inside and yet here she was looking for Billy as he had apparently something to show her. “Billy?” Macey called out once more tentatively. That was when a shadow fell over her and she screamed as the tall shadowy figure reached out for her! “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s just me.” Laughed Billy lightly jogging after Macey who had sprinted away from him. Standing under the skylight that ran the length of the peak of the barn’s roof Macey’s jaw fell open as Billy stepped into view. Billy had always been shorter that Macey, his freckled but handsome face being about breast height on her, yet this Billy who strode out from the shadows into the moonlight was taller than her, his clothes hugging a larger, beefier body. Billy’s faced grinned at her from under his blue baseball cap. “How cool is this?” he smirked with his southern drawl. “What.. but… how…?” Macey stammered, trying to string a sentence together as her eyes soaked in all the details of this stronger and taller Billy. His green t-shirt was etched with the mounds of his biceps, shoulders his pecs, his jeans bulging around his quads, hamstrings and his calves. Billy had always had an athletic build working on Macey’s Pa’s farm but this was something she’d expect on Clark Kent or one of them big city body builder boys. “With this.” Smirked Billy, showing Macey a green beaker, “I snuck in here one night considerin was so curious as to what ya Pa was up to in here and saw him injecting this here stuff into his cattle and shwoomp.” Billy said gesturing with his hands along with the sound to emphasize how the cows suddenly grew. “But ya know how I hate needles Macey, so I decided when he’d gone to have a swig of the stuff and sure enough I grew just a smidgen because was just the tiniest mouthful. After a bit I shrank back to normal so I started sneaking in here more regularly and figured was time to show ya. What do ya think?” he grinned, his green eyes gleaming as he stood akimbo allowing Macey to drink in every stretched, bulging inch of him. “I just can’t believe it.” Breathed Macey, looking up with her blue eyes into the green eyes she was so used to looking down into. Billy laughed and shook his head, the heaving of his more muscular chest looking as if it threatened to burst the cotton of his shirt apart. “Then I’m guessin I’ll just have to show ya.” Billy laughed taking a swig of the green liquid from the beaker he held. Immediately Billy, panted and moaned, standing rigidly as his body, shook, quivered then begun to stretch. Macey’s mouth once more fell open as Billy’s shirt road up his defining abs exposing his light brown snail trail, the cuffs of his jeans rising up exposing more and more white sock until the legs caught on Billy’s calf which was easily a few inches above where his socks now finished. Macey, looked down as Billy’s brown boots creaked and bowed out ominously, undoubtedly struggling to keep in Billy’s now bigger feet. “What do ya think now?” chuckled Billy, his voice deeper his green eyes looking over his massive pecs down at Macey. Billy had to be nearly 9 feet tall now and was even more muscle bound than before. His shirt looked like it should be on a child, his jeans looked like leggings that creaked strenuously under the slightest flex of his bulging muscles. “You’re huge!” Macey gasped unable to control herself as she tentatively stepped forward and begun to feel Billy’s body. Her head only came up to his navel and as she groped she gasped as movement near her gave her a fright. Billy couldn’t help being arouse at Macey’s touch and he allowed an embarrassed laugh before hushing himself, as the button to his jeans popped right near Macey’s face as his cock engorged. “So big,” Macey muttered again watching Billy’s briefs struggle against the python that was coming to life in them. Billy’s cock had to be as long as her forearm and it was making her slick. Macey had never been turned on so much in her life. “You’re so massive I can’t reach your shoulders.” Macey groaned, standing on tip toes but failing to grab Billy’s boulder shoulders which made him laugh. Taking the failed grasp as an opportunity to rake her fingers along Billy’s pecs, the mounds of his abs. “Feel this then.” Chuckled Billy, bending and flexing his bicep for Macey to feel and hold. Macey couldn’t help a moan of pleasure as Billy lifted her off the ground as if she weighed nothing. “Oh my god…” whimpered Macey looking at the ground below her “Oh not yet.” Winked Billy as he took another sip of the green liquid. Macey felt Billy’s bicep tense beneath her palms, then vibrate before she felt her hands being spread apart, the ground falling further away beneath her as pops went off near her ear. Moaning and panting Billy grew bigger, his shoulders shredding the sleeves of his boob tube of a shirt, the neck splitting from his pecs, his jeans bursting at the sides and falling away. Looking down Macey watched Billy’s boost burst and unfurl allowing his confined feet to uncurl and stretch, his socks now at ankle height. “How’s this?” laughed Billy, his voice even deeper now, his baseball cap edged up his bigger head allowing some of his brown curls to fall free. Billy playfully bounce Macey by flexing his bigger bicep. Each bounce made the desire in Macey boil upwards. She had never seen anything so hot and she thought she was going to orgasm just watching Billy. Feeling Macey’s grip beginning to slip, Billy bent down and gently lowered her to the floor. “Ya like what ya see little lady.” Teased Billy, once more standing akimbo relishing how Macey fit entirely under his shadow now as he was easily half the height of the tall barn. Macey looked up at the hulk that had been Billy, the bulge in his tiny briefs poking from his hip. There was no doubt it was now as thick as one of her defined thighs and the length of her arm at least. She wanted to reach up and touch the musky mound of stretched fabric but she could barely reach his thigh, but her finger tips gliding over the muscled mounds made Billy bite back a moan as goosebumps coursed over his body. “You like that?” Macey whispered, Billy simply nodding, “I bet you do, but…” Macey cut herself off, regaining some control of her lust. “But what?” sighed Billy, his body aching for more of Macey’s touch “But can you get bigger?” asked Macey sheepishly, Billy smirking devilishly at the blushing he could see on Macey’s face even under his shadow. “Well this is as big as I’ve gotten before, considering I already busted me clothes.” Said Billy “But I bet it’d feel so good to bust a nut when bigger.” Cooed Macey, which made Billy’s cock throb so hard he thought he was going to cum then and there just from that. Lifting up the beaker Billy took another swig, one eye looking down at Macey who was admiring how his bicep bulged as he bent his arm to drink. The beaker felt barely like a medicine cup in Billy’s massive hands and as he shuddered, shook and tensed he watched as it shrunk even more in his grasp. Macey raked her hands against one lightly haired tree trunk of a leg as Billy grew once more, his socks at last unraveling and his briefs bursting allowing his man sized manhood to spring free. Macey allowed one hand to touch herself as she watched Billy’s expanding body rise up silhouetted against the night sky, his cock and pecs jutting out further above her. Macey couldn’t even see Billy’s face anymore. “Fuck Macey, that feels so good ya feel so tiny. Bet ya never thought I’d get this huge.” He chuckled, but Macey was silent, “Macey?” Billy’s voice tinged with worry that perhaps he had crushed her or she’d ran off from his growth spurt or worse gone to get her pa to show off the naked giant he’d become. “True, I’ve never seen a bigger man than you Billy, I could straddle your cock and I don’t think my hands would meet on the other side. But I wonder…. Could you be even bigger?” “Bigger?” stammered Billy in shock. He looked around over his protruding pecs and massive shoulders. He was already having difficulty moving due to his bulk and he was close to the ceiling height. “I don’t know…” Billy said one massive paw rubbing his head and neck nervously making him realize how disproportionately huge he’d already grown and swelled. However, his cock was practically oozing at the idea of being bigger and he couldn’t deny he was curious. “If you could become literally big as a barn I’ll give your meat pole the best pole dance you’ll ever see and felt.” Called up Macey seductively, feeling her own body twitch with arousal as the massive, muscled man towering above her throbbed at her words. “Ya want big as a barn? I’ll show ya big as a barn!” rumbled Billy, downing the rest of the tiny beaker. Once more Billy’s body shuddered and shook as it shot upwards and outwards. Macey putting a hand down her skirt retreated to a safe distance rubbing herself at the spectacle as Billy grew bigger and bigger and bigger. His body being forced out into a rigid starfish like pose as his bulk became more and more immense. Billy looked up at the glass ceiling that was approaching as he kept getting growing and growing. He felt his cock stretching out, expanding into the space of the barn, it felt like he had a truck jutting off his waist it was so huge, so thick, if only if it weren’t for his mammoth pecs he’d have seen it. His mushrooming nob the size of a dinner table. He could just imagine Macey eating of it, licking its massive slit. “Oh yes that’s it big boy, keep growing, keep growing and I’m going to cum!” Macey called up to Billy stroking harder and harder as Billy kept growing, kept swelling. He was mounting beyond a muscled parade float, Macey ached thinking that Billy might just fill the barn with his ballooning body. Macey’s words made Billy ache and he wished he could touch himself but from how tense his cock was and the way it made his whole body throb he knew he could cum without touching himself. “I’m gonna cum!” wailed Macey, her strokes becoming as frantic as the shuddering expansion that was wracking Billy’s growing body as he begun to press up against the ceiling making his moans muffled. “Come on big boy, grow, grow, grow.” Macey moaned relishing how every inch of Billy throbbed with growth as his body packed on more girth and size. “I’m so close!” Macey called feeling on the precipice of climax. Billy himself was on his own precipice his cock raging to erupt but his whole body felt so tight, so overblown, so ready to… pop he realized. Billy had grown too big. “Macey, ya need to calm down, if ya make me cum I think… I might… I might blow.” Billy protested. Macey couldn’t make out much of Billy’s protest except for ‘might blow’. “I might blow,” cried back Macey, “god you’ve got me so worked up, my knees are like jelly I’ll probably just collapse here in a puddle if you cum and make me blow.” “Oh fuck….” Gritted Billy, his body surging as his churning balls grew tighter at Macey’s words, the fuse was lit there was nothing else Billy could do but curse, moan and pant as his colossal cock thickened ready to detonate him. Billy’s final words were completely lost within the towering mound of quivering muscle he’d become as his body rapidly surged out in all directions, threatening to break the skylight when BOOOM Billy blew up, tatters of Billy and cum raining down making Macey cum the hardest she had ever cum in her life. His blue baseball cap landing with a splat among a pool of cum. Collapsing to the ground Macey looked at the now empty Barn and over at the opposite wall she saw vats of the green liquid Billy had drunk. Macey wanted to see more and though big Billy hadn’t measured up to getting as huge as her newly discovered fantasy wanted, she was sure the other big dumb farm hands on her Pa’s farm could rise to the occasion.

Chapter 18 By the time I made it upstairs Patrick was already face down in bed. His face was buried in pillow and he was shaking as he cried. I couldn’t remember a time in recent memory where he’d seemed as upset. I sat at the edge of the bed for a few minutes, and when he didn’t react to that I curled up next to him and spooned him. A few more minutes and he turned over and buried his head in my shoulder. I squeezed him tight and kissed him on the forehead as he began to calm down. “What’s going on stud?” I gently asked. “You were so happy earlier.” Patrick sniffled a couple times then looked up at me. I melted a bit because his tear stained face only made his puppy dog eyes that much more striking. “I *sniff* was working out *sniff* *sniff* with Cody. *Sniff*. This guy on the treadmill kept looking at me the whole time. *Sniff* Anyway I finished and went to shower. It was fine while I was alone but then the guy from the treadmill walked in and turned on the shower next to me.” “Is that why you’re upset? Because someone showered next to you?” I asked, trying to be sensitive. “No,” Patrick’s eyes flashed annoyance for a moment. After another sniffle he continued. “The guy was nice. He said hi and asked if I was new. I told him yes. He said he noticed I was making some good progress with Cody. I thanked him, then turned off the shower. I saw that they had a steam sauna so I figured I’d take five minutes before rinsing off again and heading home. *Sniff*. He came in like a minute later and sat down on the other side of the room. We talked some more. When I opened my eyes I saw that he was hard… he’s big like you but not as thick. I complimented him and he thanked me, then this fucking asshole walked in.” “How was he an asshole?” I could see Patrick’s expression shift as he shared what happened with me. He was hurt, and angry as well. “So this fucking asshole struts in, looks at me…glances down, then looks at the other guy and goes and sits by him. I started to ask the guy from the treadmill what his name was… but asshat fucking interrupts and tells him not to waste his time on me and my “shrimp dick”.” “What the fuck? Why was he such a dick?” “I don’t know, I’ve never met the dude. Anyway, the guy I had been chatting with started to answer me, but the other guy stood up, opened up his towel and slapped started stroking his dick right in front of his face. He’s fucking huge. Fucking huge. Bigger than you… soft. The other guy was speechless…hell I was speechless! Then this asshole asks him if he wants it. The guy stammered out yes. So the guy grabs him by the back of the head, and brings him down on his cock. He lets the guy take it in until there’s only like 2 or 3 inches left… then he stops him. He looks right at me and says to the guy sucking his dick “ So imagine this is thinner, and firmer. That’s about what needle-dick is packing over there. Isn’t this better already?” The guy mumbled something and tried to bob his head up and down. I tried to leave but he stepped over and blocked the door. He kept the guy on his dick with about 3 inches showing still. “See…this is a man’s dick. Oh, and just think… I still get thicker, firmer…and longer.” He started to get hard but kept the guy’s mouth firmly in place. He didn’t move but after I few seconds I could see the guy on his knees face start to turn red and he tried pulling off his dick. Tears started coming down his cheeks, and still the asshole held him on and kept growing in his throat. “Oh, I suppose you need air,” the asshole snarled. “I’ve got a bit to go still, but I suppose you can have a breath”. He pulled his dick out of the guy’s mouth, leaving him gasping for air. He stroked a few times till he was fully hard…and fuck he’s massive. Probably close to 12 inches! He looked down at his cocksucker, and asked, “You want to be one of my cocksuckers?” The guy frantically nodded yes. “Then promise me you’ll ignore this tiny cocked faggot over here.” He nodded in my direction. From his knees, the guy looked at me with an almost apologetic look in his eyes. Then asshole fucking smacks across the face with his dick. “Well? Answer now… you want this man’s dick, or to chat it up with this micro-dicked fuck that puberty skipped?” The guy dove down on the other guy’s giant fucking cock. He could only get like half of it down now that he was fully boned. If you were to take a ruler and mark on Fuck-face’s cock where my cock ended, the guy’s lips would have MAYBE just touched the top of the mark. To make it worse, while he was getting blown, this dude just kept staring at me. Then to make things worse I realize that I’m crying, and at some point I blew my load! I’m sorry I wasn’t stroking or anything I just came. I was ashamed, and the guy fucking knew it. He finally grabbed the other guy by the back of the head again and simply said “open up”. He then began to force his cock further down the guy’s throat. I mean he was already gagging on it, but this fucking asshole didn’t care. *Sniff*. The cocksucker started frantically trying to pull off this guy’s dick, but that only turned him on more. “Oh yeah, fucking take my load” he gasped… then I watched the dude on his knees eye’s bulge…and he desperately started trying to swallow. “Ha ha, don’t bother worry about that faggot, this is a direct deposit.” I thought the guy I had been talking to was going to pass out. Finally monster boner dude pulls his dick out of his throat, and the guy fell back, wiping his spit and tears off his face while gasping for breath. As he walked out of the steam room asshole guy looks at me again and said *sniff* “know your place.” Then rinsed up and left. I looked down at the guy on his knees, *sniff* *sniff* but he wouldn’t look at me. I didn’t rinse off. I just splashed a little water on my face and got dressed as fast as I could. I drove home, and here we are.” “Jesus honey, I’m sorry that sounds like a nightmare.” I tried to comfort him. “Forget that dude, like you said he’s just a fucking asshole.” “I know… I know, but he hit a nerve, Aaron.” *Sniff* “I don’t think I ever told you this, but right before I met you I about killed myself.” “Wait…what?” I exclaimed, sitting up. “I’m sorry, don’t be mad” Patrick hurried. “I’ve always hated that I’m so small. I’ve always been picked on, ridiculed, ignored. I hate it. When I was younger I thought that maybe I was just a late bloomer, but by the time I graduated I was beginning to realize that short of a miracle, I was stuck. I was never going to be a real man.” “But you are a real man.” “No.” Patrick countered, “I’m a man in a boy’s body. As much as I fantasize about being the big man, towering over people, having muscles, all that… part of me knew it could never happen. Seeing all these people that are huge… tall, buff, hung… having done nothing to deserve it. Or earn it, yet they abuse the power it gives them. It hurts. I’ve talked to counselors, they never understand. Bigger really is better.” “Patrick, I love you just the way you are. You’re more a man than that dickhead in the shower will ever be. You’re my man. Not my boy. Get it?” I finally got a smile out of him. “Besides… look at the last month, a miracle apparently has happened. You ARE a late bloomer. How many guys out there can say their dick grew an inch in a month…in their 30’s? You’re taller. You’re getting buffer every day. Hell, pretty soon I bet you’ll be bigger than that guy in the shower.” Patrick was smiling again, though his eyes had taken on a dangerous glint. “You know what? You’re right. I’m getting big. It’s only a matter of time and I’ll be able to put that asshole in HIS place!”

Chapter 15 The showers were open stall style. No wonder Patrick took off like he did. He’s always been shy about his cock in front of other people. He’s convinced it’s tiny. I don’t really understand. I mean he’s doesn’t have an 8.5” cock like mine that swings 6” when soft, but from what I’ve seen over the years he’s just about average, especially since his little growth spurt. I wondered to myself that if he got much bigger if he’d show off a bit more. The thought aroused me a bit, so as I turned the water on I was hanging closer to 7”. A few minutes passed with me being the only occupant of the shower area. Suddenly I heard the door to the area open and I heard someone’s sandaled feet slapping against the tile. I felt a pair of eyes on me, doing that one up guys do whenever they see another man naked. I decided I would turn and let them see the front so the show could be over, and being a man I was curious how they stacked up compared to me. Fuck… it was that twink from earlier. I did have to admit he had a nice tight body. He had a very light tan, which only enhanced his musculature. I don’t think I’ve seen that many abs outside of a fitness magazine. His shoulders looked great too. I couldn’t see his lower half yet because he still had his towel on. I made the mistake of making eye contact. He looked at me straight in the eye for a second, then down at my cock, then back to my eyes. He smiled, and turned to put his towel on the rack. I took the opportunity to divorce myself from the situation and went back to facing the wall. The fucker saddled up to the showerhead nearest mine and flipped it on. There were at least 10 other unoccupied showerheads. I guess I should have been used to it though. You don’t have a cock like mine and expect people not to want to get up close to it. Still… his lack of gym etiquette was annoying. I glanced over at him. He was facing away from me and soaping up his ass. I do have to admit he had a nice ass. It was perfectly hairless, and you’d swear someone had taken a basketball and cut in half. Looking further down I wish I could report that he never worked out his legs, but that obviously wasn’t the case. I don’t think he’s ever skipped leg day let’s just leave it at that. I worked my gaze back up to his ass... just in time for him to turn around. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. This guy was massive. His cock snaked down in front of him easily as long as my hard on and a bit thicker. Completely…fucking…soft. He caught me staring. “Like what you see?” he asked. I nodded. There was no use trying to lie to him, the moment I first laid eyes on the behemoth between his legs I had gotten hard. I’ve never considered myself to be a size queen, but I know when I see a unique piece. “I think I’m a tad bit bigger than you,” he said smugly. “Some people are showers some people are growers” I quickly replied. Surely he was in the shower camp. “Well you seem to be showing your full hand,” He laughed, gesturing towards my cock. “I haven’t started yet.” With that, he took a step back and moved his hands a little bit past shoulder width apart, pointing at his cock. He looked me straight in the eye with a look that said “go on, watch.” I looked down just in time to see his cock drop an inch closer to the floor. His dick pulsed, another half inch. Though it was beginning to rise to attention. He pulsed again, more length his dick was pointing closer to my kneecaps. He wasn’t gaining much thickness though. Another few pulses, another inch. I could tell he was finally about full size. One final flex of his cock and he was a full mast. He was twice as big as Patrick, in both thickness and length. “Holy fuck!” I muttered in awe. “Haha, 11.5” by 7” motherfucker,” he gloated. He began to stroke with both hands. I noticed his fingertips barely touched. “And super sensitive.” Precum began leaking from his dick. He took a glob of it and put it to his lips. He savored the taste of his own fluids then turned his shower off. He walked over to the towels, still fully boned. “I saw your shrimp-dicked boyfriend changing.” He said cockily. “When you’re ready for a real man, you know where to find me.” With that, he blew his load all over one of the towels. Nothing like Patrick’s load, but a fantastic load for anyone not on some experimental injection. He then grabbed the other towel and left the shower area. I looked down at my hard on. I felt guilty for being turned on by that giant dick, double entendre intended. I waited for my dick to go soft and shut down my shower. I looked around for another towel and there weren’t any so I ended up using the other side of the cum towel to dry off. As I made it back to my locker I saw the monster hung twink head out the door. I hurriedly got dressed and went to find Patrick.

Chapter 12 The sound of the garage door opening was my cue. I slipped the blindfold on assumed my position on all fours. I listened intently to try to determine where he was in relation to my asshole. I heard the door to the house open, and apparently he had some bags with him. Apparently he had some cold items because I heard the fridge being opened and the bags being jostled around. I was in agony waiting for him. Did he do this on purpose just to make me wait for it? My big cock was rock hard as I waited for him to come upstairs and fuck me. Though if he took much longer I might just have to go downstairs and pound his ass. Finally I heard his footfalls on the stairs. He entered the room and I heard him taking off his clothes. Then silence. Where the fuck was he? I was just about to remove the blindfold when I had to take a sharp intake of breath as I felt his tongue on my asshole. It was gentle, but just barely. He rimmed me with the abandon of man who’d just found water after being lost in the desert. I reached my hand to start stroking myself off, but he grabbed me by the wrist and put my hand back onto the bed. As if that was a cue, he spat on my hole and stood up. I felt the head of his cock on my hole. Was it bigger? I couldn’t tell. He worked it into me slowly. He pushed in a little bit, then pulled out. Then in a bit further, and then out all the way. Was he thicker? I was still struggling to separate real life from his fantasies. I felt Patrick’s balls up against my ass. He pushed in as deep as he could go and just stayed there for a second. I could feel his dick pulsing. God it felt good. “How’s that feel Aaron?” he grunted as he started pumping my ass again. “Feels amazing, fuck it feels good.” I replied. “Fuck yeah, feel my growing dick” he snarled as began to pound me. He grabbed my cock and began stroking me. “Can’t fucking wait until mine’s as big as yours is.” Even though this kind of sex talk was normal for him I couldn’t help but to join him in his fantasy. The “growing dick” thing was new, and I found myself wondering that if this was actually happening, how big was he going to get? If he maxed out at the 3” the doctor had initially said we’d be pretty much tied in the dick department by the end of the year. Though being the shorty he is, it’d look much bigger on him. I could feel myself getting close to blowing my nut. He suddenly pulled out. “Get on your knees” He ordered. He guided me to the floor quickly and turned me by grabbing my shoulders. “Open your mouth.” I did as he commanded, and stuck my tongue out because I knew he liked that. I hadn’t been able to count to three when the sudden feeling of being hit with a super soaker hit me on the cheek. Then my forehead. The third shot hit me directly in my mouth. Rather it directly hit my tonsils and then completely filled my mouth to overflowing. I swallowed and opened up my mouth again. He was still spurting. I could feel his jizz in my hair, pouring down my spine into my ass crack. Another shot hit my chest and quickly slid down my torso towards my cock. The second his spunk reached my junk I came. Slowly his flow ebbed and then ended. He must have cum with his eyes closed because the next thing I heard was “Ha! Shit! Let me get some towels. Don’t move.” I disobeyed slightly. While he was in the bathroom I lifted the blind fold off of my eyes. I glanced over to the full length mirror we kept in the corner. Holy fuck, I was completely covered in cum, as was the floor around me, (thank the design gods for no carpet) and our bed. I was definitely going to need to do laundry. Patrick came out of the bathroom with towels. There was something about his mousey self that I couldn’t place. He looked leaner but that wasn’t it. What was it? He must have caught me trying to figure it out. “5’6” as of this morning,” he beamed, handing me a towel. “My feet are now a size 9.” “Wait what?” I was flabbergasted. “Yup. I told you.” He laughed. “I haven’t gained any weight yet, but my body fat has dropped. Can’t remember what Doctor Stephens says it is now but I don’t care, when I flex I can see my six pack! Oh… and my cock,” he gave himself a grope. “5.75 inches and 1/8 of an inch thicker than before.” “Wait, a quarter inch? Are you sure you weren’t just more turned on than usual?” I asked. He shot me a cold look. For someone with such a boyish face, he sure as fuck could give a glare that could make your blood run cold. “If there’s one thing I know it’s how big my cock was, and how big it is. I just came, do I seem more excited than usual right now?” There was a challenging edge to his voice. “Well, no… I mean you’re still hard but you’re not throbbing.” I tried to say lightheartedly. He ordered “get me the tape measure from the hall closet.” Not wanting to make him angry, I complied. I went to hand it to him. “Measure me,” he said. “Your height?” I asked dumbly. “You can measure that in a minute if you want. Right now, measure my cock. Tell me what the tape measure says.” He was being deadly serious. I felt guilty that I was getting hard again. I got on my knees and placed the tape measure against the top of his cock. “Just a touch over 5.75” I said, shocked. I could feel his grin beaming down at me. His cock throbbed, stretching slightly further. I dropped the tape measure and began sucking like a man possessed.

Chapter 10 After fapping myself off twice in the restroom I managed to regain my composure. I cleaned up and headed to my boss’s office. I glanced at the clock as I neared his secretary’s desk. I was a few minutes early. Phew. I’d seen more people fired for being 2 minutes late than I could count on both hands in a two month period of time. The secretary motioned for me to take a seat, and just about the time I began to sweat bullets she notified me that I could enter my boss’s office. Not a word other than “Aaron”, and a nod. I took a seat across from my boss’s desk. He was working on an email, seemingly oblivious to my existence. I was too afraid to speak. “Please don’t fire me, please don’t fire me,” I kept thinking to myself. He finished his email before addressing me. “Aaron, I hope everything is ok at home,” he said. He seemed concerned. Was this a trick? “Uh… yeah… things are ok sir, it’s just my partner’s doctor wants to keep him for observation for a few days, I’m sorry for my phone interrupting you meeting, sir.” “Don’t worry about it, Aaron, overnight observation sounds pretty severe. Do you need to take some time to make sure he’s ok?” “No, I’m sure he’s in good hands sir, please don’t fire me.” I blurted. “Wait, what?” he laughed. “Fire you, why the hell would I fire you? You’re one of the few people in this place that actually has true work ethic, and you’re good at what you do! I didn’t call you in here to fire you… I’m actually concerned for your well-being.” He stood up, laughing. “I don’t know what nightmares you’re hearing from HR, but I’m not some monster that just fires people for no damn reason. Seriously though, do you need some time to be with your partner?” “No sir, I’m sure he would let me know if he needed me there now.” “Alright….if you’re sure, you’re sure. Just do me a favor, let me know if anything changes in the next few days. If you need some time, take it. You don’t have to do the work of 10 men.” “Yes sir, thank you.” “My pleasure. I’ll let you get back to your work.” I stood up and started for the door, shocked that I still had a job. Oh, and with new knowledge my boss actually likes me. As I passed the secretaries desk I heard him over her intercom. “Elle, please inform HR that we're going to need to let Steve in accounting go…” Chapter 11 The next two days were excruciating. I tried to busy myself with work, but there just wasn’t enough to keep me occupied. I hadn’t heard from Patrick since he told me he had to stay for observation. I was trying not let anxiety get the best of me, but I couldn’t help shake the “what if something went wrong” feeling. I kept looking at my phone hoping for some information about what was going on with Patrick. I was checking my phone so often that when it actually did ring I just about had a heart attack. I fumbled with my phone, literally slapping it across the room on accident. Swearing to myself I hurried to pick it up. “Hello?” “Hi Honey, it’s me” the familiar voice of my lover came across the speaker. “How are you?” “Seriously? I’ve been worried sick, why didn’t you call?” “Sorry, I was busy with doing these tests and stuff and the area in the Lab where I was has shit cell service. It’s so cool by the way. It’s got all this…” I cut him off. “I don’t care about the tests, I just want to make sure you’re ok. When are you coming home?” “I’m fine,” he said, sounding a little annoyed. “I told you there was nothing to worry about, I’m on my way home, should be back in about 2 hours.” “Ok awesome! Oh… and what did the doctor say? Have you…grown… much?” I asked. I don’t know why I was so timid about that question. We had role played similar stories over the years…but back then it was just role play. I think I was half terrified that in the past two days he’d gone from his adorable shrimp self to some towering muscle fiend. “Haha,” he laughed. “You’ll see… after we fuck though. I need your hole. When I get home I want you on all fours blindfolded and waiting for me. Ok? “Sir yes sir!”

Hey Men. This is my first story posted to this site (or any site). I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it. I have the other two parts outlined and will be working on those too. There will be plenty of turns and twists. My goal for part 1 is to introduce the characters and set up the background for what will be coming next. Shane: Confessions of an Underdog (pt. 1) The summer heat hung thick in the air. It was a few days before classes started at the University of Washington. Seattle isn’t known for its heat, but when it does get warm, it gets humid. So much water around. So many trees. August can be unpleasant. Cliff was carrying boxes to his new room for the year. He was a senior and finally going to graduate with his degree in psychology in May. He was the kind of guy that everyone liked. He wasn’t what the magazines and media would call “hot” but he was handsome, kind of like a movie star from the golden age of Hollywood. Many people said that if Cary Grant and Rock Hudson had a baby, he would look like Cliff. With dark wavy hair that he kept well trimmed, warm brown skin from his tan, and his large hazel eyes, he could see what they meant, but he never considered himself necessarily good-looking. He was built like a rugby player. Almost 6 feet tall, he carried a good bit of muscle under his clothes. His wide shoulders looked like they could put up some serious weight and his thick legs and round high ass made him appear shorter than he actually was. People were always surprised at how tall he was when he stood next to them. He wasn’t tight and ripped like many of his friends. He always seemed to carry around a little extra weight, especially around his waist, to his great chagrin. Even so, he had a beautiful masculine body that could do real work. And his smile. His smile was his moneymaker. He could melt just about anyone with his smile. Unpacking his car had been quite a chore today. As a senior, he was able to apply for a Resident Assistant at one of the dorms on campus. He had lived in the dorms his first year, but had moved out afterward for a couple of years and had experienced freedom from the tiny rooms and a roommate in the same cramped space. As an RA, he would have his own room in the corner of the floor complete with a kitchenette and en-suite bathroom. His friend, Rich, had talked him into applying and they had been assigned to the same building with Rich working on the floor just underneath Cliff. The two friends had been close since the first week of classes when they were freshmen. But they couldn’t be more different. Where Cliff was classically handsome and warm with a beefy body, Rich had an angular model-like face with sandy blonde short hair and piercing blue eyes. He was ripped. His broad shoulders supported athletic pecs and well-defined arms. His waist was tiny and he often found it hard to find clothes that would fit right. His glutes were tight and his legs were long but muscular. His skin was golden brown and he looked much more like a surfer-turned-fitness model than anyone in Seattle that Cliff had ever seen. He was beautiful and devastating. He knew it too. Cliff got along with everyone whereas Rich could be a real asshole. Mean and acidic comments often came out of his mouth and he was as catty as any of the Real Housewives, but Cliff (as is his personality) just shrugged and thought, “That’s just the way he is.” Cliff marched up the stairs with the last box. It was only four floors up, but with the heat and all of the other boxes he had already packed around, he was feeling it in his thighs and healthy backside. He opened the door, set the box down and started to unpack. It was going to be so nice to be in a room by himself this year. A knock at the door interrupted him. “Come in!” “Hey Cliff.” Standing in the doorway was Jesse. Jesse looked like a stereotypical science nerd. Thick black-rimmed glasses, thin almost skinny body, and a big beak-like nose screamed “chemistry or physics” as his major. He was also the head RA for the building and therefore, Cliff’s boss. They had also been friends since their first year. Jesse had been in Cliff’s English 100 course- and they both hated it. They sat next to each other passing notes and giggling like schoolgirls for most of the quarter. Jesse liked Cliff and had a lot of respect for Cliff’s social capital, something that Jesse didn’t have. Cliff liked Jesse of course. He was just that kind of guy. Cliff didn’t have enemies. Most people wondered if he had a mean bone in his body. Jesse, with his beak-nose, looked straight into Cliff’s eyes and shook his head a little. “Dude. I’m so sorry.” Cliff looked up from the box he was unpacking. “Why are you sorry? Did you fill the rooms on my floor with crazy problem freshmen?” Jesse just shook his head and looked down at the single sheet of paper in his hand. “Worse, man.” “Come on, Jesse. What? You look like you just licked a lemon. “ “Cliff, sorry buddy, but you are going to have to have a roommate for at least the first quarter of the year. We assigned this transfer kid to the building and we overbooked by one spot. You have one of the only single rooms and I can’t stick him with Rich. He’d probably make the kid cry every day just for making his life a little more inconvenient. I don’t know much about him except he is a junior and did his first two years somewhere in Montana.” “Oh man! You’re not serious! That’s messed up, Jesse! I even just moved the two beds together so I could have a king-size.” Cliff shook his head, annoyed. “One more thing, Cliff. He’s here. Now. Downstairs.” “Man, you are killing me. People aren’t supposed to start moving in for a couple of days still. I was going to get all set up and have some peace and quiet. Maybe jerk off a bit more than normal.” Cliff flashed Jesse that big smile and winked. He had always thought Jesse was gay or maybe bi if anything. He caught him looking at his meaty ass more than once. He didn’t mind though. Jesse was harmless. “Ya. Well, he emailed us at the end of last year when we made the assignments and asked if he could move in early. Some sort of sob story about not having a place to live right before school, or some shit like that. We responded that he could if he paid for the extra time. Sorry man. I know this sucks.” Cliff shook his head and went into the small bedroom and moved the beds apart again. He took a big long piss in the bathroom and started moving some things around so the new guy would have equal space. No reason punishing the new guy for the mix up. Cliff just thought that way about things. He was easy going as well. Nothing ruffled his feathers too much. “It was a nice dream while it lasted.” A few minutes later, he heard some shuffling in the hallway and a light knock at the door. “Come in!” he said maybe a little bit louder than he needed too. As easygoing as he was, he was still just a little annoyed at the situation. He had been really looking forward to some alone time with his cock. Being home for the summer hadn’t allowed him very much privacy and he was horny. The door slowly opened and it looked like whoever was going to come it was having trouble with their bag. He heard a little grunt and the door pushed open slightly. His new roommate walked in hesitantly. His eyes darted around the room and the first thing Cliff thought was that he looked like a scared animal. “Hi there. I guess we are going to be roommates this quarter.” Cliff stuck out his hand to greet his new roommate and walked quickly over to him. He flashed his smile and the annoyance was gone. He couldn’t hold a grudge against this guy. It wasn’t his fault. “My name’s Cliff. Sorry there are so many boxes and shit all over. I didn’t know I was going to have a roommate…so soon.” He added that last bit so the new guy wouldn’t feel so bad. He was sure that Jesse had told him downstairs about the situation. “I’m Shane.” Shane didn’t look Cliff in the eyes and barely stuck his hand out to shake Cliff’s big meaty mitt. The kid looked scared. Cliff looked more closely at him. He was looked of average height Cliff thought. Maybe 5 foot 8 or 9. He was thin though not skinny. He wasn’t an ugly kid, but he wasn’t anything special. He looked a bit pale and like he was exhausted. Maybe he hadn’t eaten in a while. His cheeks did look a little sunken in and his face a bit gaunt, but that could just be the paleness. Something made Cliff think the guy was very nervous. He still didn’t look Cliff in the eye. “Here, let me grab that for you.” Cliff stretched his arm out to grab the duffle bag that Shane had let drop to the floor. Shane held on to the duffle and pulled away a little bit and his cheeks flushed a little. Cliff looked out in the hallway for anything else. That’s all that he had with him. “Do you need help bringing anything else up from downstairs?” “No, I just have this and one box I left in the office with Jesse. I’ll run down and get it now.” Shane set his duffle bag on the floor next to the wall, well out of the way of Cliff’s full boxes. He turned around and walked into the hallway without saying anything else. “That was a little awkward,” Cliff said to himself when he knew he was alone. Why had Shane seemed so nervous? He went back to work moving his items to one side of the room, moving food to one half of the cupboard and organizing the refrigerator in a way that would give Shane half of the space. A few minutes later, he heard the footsteps return and Shane walked in with his box. He set the box carefully on the kitchen table and looked over at Cliff who had his backside sticking out of the fridge, still moving things around. Shane stared at Cliff’s athletic bubbled ass and his thick legs and looked away just as Cliff wheeled around with that warm smile again. “Shane, give me just a minute to move some things around in here and then you can start putting anything you want in your space. And, if you don’t mind, I’d like the bed next to the window in the other room. Is that ok?” He walked across the kitchen and entered the bedroom where he had put one bed against the window and the other against the opposite wall. There was only about 4 feet between the beds, but it was a dorm after all. Shane just nodded. “Hey Shane. I’m going to leave here in a few minutes to go meet up with some friends I haven’t seen since the beginning of summer. You are more than welcome to come if you want,” Cliff said warmly, looking at Shane. Finally Shane looked at him and quietly said, “No, I’m ok. Thanks for inviting me though.” “Ya, no problem. Anytime. I’m going to shower and get ready but make yourself at home.” Cliff turned on his heels and walked into the bedroom where he began to undress. As he was walking into the room, he pulled his shirt off and Shane stared at his back. Cliff was so at ease with himself. He didn’t have a perfect body, but he looked like he was well worked out. His back was broad and thick; his shoulders round with pendulous triceps. He was shirtless with only his form fitting brown dungarees on. He could see a strip of bright red briefs wrapping around Cliff’s waist just peeking out above his pants. And that ass. It didn’t look like it was made of stone, but it was thick and muscular. It looked like the rest of Cliff, comfortable and powerful. Cliff peeled his pants off so that he was just wearing his red briefs and still had his back to Shane. Shane blushed and felt himself getting turned on. Just then, Cliff turned around and grabbed his towel that was hanging off the door and walked into the bathroom. He just barely caught Shane staring at him and noticed the bulge in his pants. He shot him that warm smile and walked into the bathroom. As he shut the door behind him he chuckled to himself, “Looks like Shane is gay.” Shane stood there, mortified. He knew Cliff saw him staring. And he knew that his shorts couldn’t cover up his boner. He shook his head, disgusted with himself, and opened up his duffle and box to unpack his few belongings. “You doing alright in there?” Cliff called out from the bedroom as he was changing. “If you need anything, just use mine. We’re roommates now, so what’s mine is yours.” “Thanks,” Shane said quietly from the kitchen, “but I’m ok.” “Do you have something to eat for dinner? You don’t look like you brought much.” Shane was in the kitchen still. He hadn’t sat down or taken anything into the bedroom. Cliff walked out of the room just as Shane was pulling out a 36 pack of Top Ramen opening up one package and placing it into a small pan of water. “That stuff will kill you!” Cliff barked and started to laugh. “I can’t eat that shit. It makes me sick.” He said it in good fun and what Cliff didn’t know is that Shane knew this. He could tell what people were feeling. It was more than observation, it was empathic. Still, the comment somehow hurt him and he felt that he had to respond. “Ya, I know but I don’t have any money until next week when my financial aid comes in, so this will do for now.” He looked mortified and crestfallen. He was obviously embarrassed, but he already knew that Cliff wouldn’t mock him. “No fucking way, Shane. Ok, well eat that, but hold on.” Cliff walked over to the fridge and took out a rotisserie chicken he had bought earlier that day, some veggies, and herbs. In a total of two minutes, he had put some cubed chicken and the veggies in the pot with the ramen noodles. “It might taste like shit, but it will be better for you with some protein and fresh things.” Shane looked at Cliff straight in the eye for only the second time. He started to tear up a little bit and bit down on his lip. “Thank you, Cliff. I won’t forget how kind you were to me today.” Cliff looked at him puzzled, but Shane seemed sweet and innocent so he just let it go. What did he mean by that? Just then a loud bang on the door startled them both. “Get out here you big fuck,” bellowed another voice. It was Rich. “We have to get going. I’m hungry as fuck. Are you ready you big queer?” Cliff opened the door and Rich barged in. “Too bad you have some idiot loser as a roommate,” Rich spouted looking at his friend. “I heard about it. Jesse told me he looks like some homeless piece of shit.” Rich looked at Cliff who just shook his head quickly and glanced over at Shane who was staring straight at Rich. Cliff knew that Rich was an ass. He could get away with it usually. He was a stud with a perfect body. Vascular arms with well built and rounded muscles that oozed confidence, a tight waist with abs visible through the tight shirts he wore for the ladies, and long muscular thighs atop athletic lower leg muscles. He new he was hot and he didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought. “Rich! Shut the fuck up.” Cliff looked visibly pissed off. He looked at Shane sitting at the table getting ready to take his first bite of dinner and he could see his eyes getting glassy. “God, you are such an ass sometimes,” Cliff barked at his friend. “Shane, this is my idiot friend, Rich. Rich, this is my new roommate Shane.” Rich smirked and walked over and stuck out his hand to shake Shane’s. Shane felt something very mean about Rich. He could feel it like a white hot iron. Rich was cruel and arrogant. He was not to be trusted. Shane didn’t look him in the eye, but stretched his hand out to shake the other’s hand. He just stared at his dinner bowl. “Fuck man. Lets get out of here,” Rich said as he headed for the door. Cliff put his hands up as if to say, “Hang on a sec.” “Shane,” he could sense the emotions building up on Shane’s face; he looked like he was trapped. But when Cliff said his name, he seemed to relax a bit. “Shane, look at me bro. “ Cliff crouched down next to Shane at the table so that his eyes were slightly lower. “Don’t listen to anything that Rich says. He can be a real piece of work. He just opens his mouth without thinking and it hurts sometimes. He’s made me fighting mad so many times, but he’s my friend and he’s a good guy… usually.” Shane looked at Cliff again. Cliff felt as if Shane was reading deeply into his eyes. Like he was sizing Cliff up on some subconscious level. “Please eat and unpack and I wont be long. I want to get back to I can get to know you a bit more, ok?” The quiet one nodded his head and again looking into Cliff’s eyes and whispered, ‘Thanks Cliff. Thank you for being so nice to me.” With that, Cliff got up and turned around to join Rich in the hallway. He shut the door and Shane heard Rich start laughing, “Your roommate is a freak man. Holy shit. You are screwed.” “Fuck off, Rich.” And he heard a thud. Cliff punched Rich hard in the shoulder. Shane could sense that Cliff meant it when he punched Rich and he smiled and started to eat. A couple of hours later, Cliff returned from his dinner with friends. He walked in and closed the front door slowly. Shane was sitting on the couch. His box and duffle were in the corner, empty. There was nothing new on the shelves in the kitchen and he could see that there was a blanket spread out on Shane’s bed in the next room. Shane looked over at Cliff as he put the leftovers from dinner in the fridge. Shane hadn’t put anything into the fridge either. “I guess he is going to try to live on Top Ramen,” Cliff thought to himself. “Did you get all settled in?” he asked. “Ya. I don’t have much. I wanted to say thanks for sticking up for me with your friend, Rich. You didn’t have to do that.” “Rich gets what he deserves. Well, not usually, but he deserved to get a good punch for what he said about you. You are my roommate now and I’ve got your back. I don’t like talking shit about people like Rich does. I’m an optimist.” Cliff walked over to Shane and sat down next to him on the couch. “So let’s get acquainted.” He sat cross-legged on the couch facing his new roommate. Shane opened himself up in that way that only he could, probing the emotions and sentiments of the people he is around. He could sense that Cliff really did want to know about him; to understand him. He could tell he was good. He felt certain valiance about Cliff. He was emotionally strong, stable, and substantive-much like his physical body. Shane could feel the concern and worry that Cliff had for him, although they had just met. Cliff wasn’t wary. He wasn’t afraid. He wanted to know why his roommate wouldn’t look him in they eye, why he flinched when Cliff tried to grab his bag to help him, and why he didn’t own anything. He could feel that Cliff had questions as he looked into his roommate’s eyes. There was something else there as well, but he couldn’t identify it. “Well? Shane, you can tell me anything. I have heard a lot from my friends about their lives. Nothing that you say will bother me.” Somehow, Cliff felt that Shane was much more of a risk to himself than to anyone else. He also had an intuition about people that he had learned to trust. He didn’t realize that Shane had a much more developed sense, but Cliff was good at reading people. The young man that was only a year younger than him had cowered all day like a puppy that had peed on the carpet. It was concerning but not scary. He knew from the look in Shane’s eyes earlier at the dinner table that Rich’s comments had really gotten to him. Sometimes he just wanted to punch Rich’s teeth in for being such a fucking jerk. He didn’t notice, but when he thought this, Shane lifted the corners of his mouth in a subtle smile. “Ya Cliff. I wish you would have punched him in the face and knocked that smug look right off of it!” Shane thought to himself. But back to the moment… “Cliff, I don’t really like to talk about myself much. Could you tell me something about you? Something about your family or…?” “Oh, sure! I love my family. We are so close. I am the oldest of four – two boys and two girls. Boy, girl, boy, girl. My parents live about 3 hours from here in a little farm town. I grew up there. My parents are my best friends and my siblings are all married and have kids. Seriously, its like a fucking Disney movie. “ He laughed and smiled that devastating smile as he related to Shane more about his background. Shane could feel his good mood and energy and was eagerly lapping it up. He had never felt this sort of positive energy. Cliff stopped his story. He could tell Shane was lost in it. Shane’s eyes were glazed over and he was smiling a little. “Shane, how about you?” Shane’s expression changed dramatically. The smile went away. The warmth on his face was gone. Shane teared up again. He knew he could be honest. He knew, instinctually, that Cliff wouldn’t laugh at him or his wreck of a life. “I have a very different story. I don’t know who my parents are. I don’t know where I come from. I know that I am alone.” He was visibly shaken. His voice was trembling and Cliff wanted to just reach out and hug him and make him feel better – that was his way. But he hesitated and felt that it would violate some boundary. Shane was delicate right now and was exposing himself in a way that Cliff felt very careful of. “I have lived in over fifty foster homes in my life. Until I fell out of the system when I was 18, I had never lived in the same place for more than a year. It was easier when I was younger, but when I hit puberty, things were different. I wouldn’t spend more than a couple of months in a house at a time” Cliff nodded at him, urging him to go on. “I have never really had friends. My foster families would always think I was too socially awkward or ashamed of me to let me get to know anyone very well. In every single place I was placed, I would scare them I guess. No one has ever treated me like you have been treated every day of your life. I have no stories of birthdays or happy holidays or friends to go to dinner with.” He sounded more and more upset and angry as he continued. “No one has ever treated me with any respect or any compassion. I have always been on my own…alone. Some people chose that road, but not me. It was forced on me. I don’t want my past to ruin the rest of my life, but I don’t know what to do about it. I think I am a monster. Every one of my foster parents said as much eventually…before they asked for me to be relocated.” A knot rose up in Cliff’s throat. This guy was just laying it all out there – he thought so anyway. “Cliff, what you did tonight – offering me your food and hospitality and kindness – no one has every been that kind to me. Especially when they get to know me better…know things about me. I don’t want you to be like them and I can tell that you are not.” He looked Cliff right in the eyes and Cliff just wanted to hold him and wrap his big beefy arms around this little guy. “I don’t really want to say anything else right now but I want you to know that I haven’t met anyone like you before. You make me feel safe.” He cut the last word off as he said it. Almost as if he knew that it had gone too far, for him anyway. He didn’t want to scare Cliff away or make things uncomfortable-or come out of the closet. Shane could feel Cliff’s emotions welling up within him. He could exquisitely sense his big roommate’s desire to comfort him. Cliff went to reach out to put his arm around him and Shane pulled away. “Thank you again, Cliff. I think I need to go to bed soon and I’d like to be alone here for a minute.” “Shane, you can tell me anything. Whenever you are ready to talk, you can tell me anything. I can take it. I’m not going anywhere.” Cliff was the emotional one now. His roommate had never felt love in his life. He didn’t know what it was to really hug someone; to hug his mom or dad or brother or sisters. He didn’t know what it was to have friends. He stood up and walked to the bedroom leaving Shane on the couch. Shane watched as Cliff’s big beefy back and legs walked away. He let out a little whimper. He wanted so bad to just reach out and touch Cliff, but that could get dangerous for Cliff. He had learned that the hard way. Cliff whipped around and caught Shane looking at his ass. He just smiled. “Shane, you’ll be safe here. Now, shower and go to bed. Let’s hang out tomorrow, ok?” Shane nodded. He knew that he would do whatever Cliff asked. He surrendered to his roommate’s will and desires because for the first time, he knew that someone would protect him. Cliff was the one truly decent human being that he had ever met in person and the only one he wanted to make happy. He smiled a genuine smile for the first time in a long while and got into the shower just as Cliff had asked him to. He washed himself off and towel dried. He knew that this body was just a shell of the man that he could be, but he was still ashamed. Twenty-two years of hiding who he was would not go away in the span of one brief evening. Somehow, he knew that Cliff wouldn’t care if he were different. He also knew that he would do whatever Cliff asked – he was strong where Shane was not. Shane smiled as he realized that the opposite was also true. After showering, Shane quietly went into the bedroom. The corners of his mouth turned up to smile as he heard Cliff breathing heavily and snoring lightly—more like a purr than a snore. He climbed into bed and relived the last few hours of his life. Something had changed. Maybe it was hope. Whatever it was, he was horny and he couldn’t help but touch himself. Cautiously, he looked over at his big strong handsome kind roommate and started to rub the head of his cock. It was too warm in the room to go under his covers and have more privacy so he decided to stay on top of them. He spit into his hand and rubbed the swelling knob with his palm. Working his way down slowly toward the base, he felt the veins along the shaft start coming to the surface. He could feel them individually. Shane knew that he had extra senses and when he was sexually aroused, his senses were even more acute. He could feel the throbbing of his cock begin in earnest. He could not take his eyes off of Cliff’s body laying just a few feet away. Cliff slept on his side and he was looking at the most beautiful man he had ever seen sleeping soundly just at a little over an arm’s length. He pumped his cock more and more. It steadily grew until it reached a limit with the body he had forced upon himself. He thought that a thick 10” cock would be a perfect maximum for his 5’ 9” edition. Shane eyed Cliff up and down. Cliff had not crawled under the covers either. It was too warm. Seattle is not known for its need for air-conditioning. Instead, he had stripped to his boxers. His chest was thick and hard without effort. It lacked the striations and veins that Shane knew existed under his own body, but Cliff was undeniably one of the most masculine men that Shane had met. He exuded strength. He also knew that Cliff wanted to be ripped and huge like his fucking goon-friend Rich. The thought of Rich made Shane’s blood boil. But never mind that now. Shane kept pumping his cock. His hand was getting warm. Spit is not the best lubricant. His forearm was getting tired with the action that it had gotten tonight. But this was the body that he had forced upon himself. He would have to deal with the weaknesses for the time being. Just then, Cliff’s eyes shot open. Shane yelped and tried to flip around to avoid Cliff’s stare. “Shane, are you awake?” Silence. “Shane, I know you are awake. I have been for the past few minutes. It’s ok.” Shane was terrified. He could tell that Cliff was being honest – he could ALWAYS tell if someone was being honest. “Shane. It’s ok. I’m gay too. It’s ok, Shane.” Shane froze. He didn’t move a single muscle. He willed his heart to stop beating and it did. He willed every fiber in his body to stop moving. No electrical impulses were being fired outside of his central nervous system. He was a dead ship in the water, utterly still. “Shane, please. It’s ok. Please, talk to me.” Cliff knew that his new friend was delicate and the most timid person he had met. He needed to handle this delicately. On the other side of the room, Shane heard one thing that Cliff said and it resonated with him. He had, after all, told himself that he had surrendered to Cliff, entirely and completely. The only thing he cared about in the moment was Cliff’s request, “Please, talk to me.” “Cliff, I’m afraid.” “Why? Shane, it’s ok. Whatever you say, I can handle.” “Cliff, I’m gay. I’m gay! I’ve never said that before or out loud to anyone. Please don’t kick me out of your room. I don’t know what I’d do.” There was a certain desperate quality in his voice. “Hey man. I’m gay too, remember? I think I said that a few seconds ago.” Shane was so caught up in the emotion of the moment and the fact that he had willed his body to stop its normal functions; he had barely heard Cliff say that. “Shane, come over here. I’m not going to hurt you.” Shane allowed his heart to start beating and the rest of his body to start working again. He got out of his bed, naked, and stood up next to Cliff who was still lying on top of his bed on his side. “You don’t have to worry about me.” Cliff reached his big arm out and touched Shane’s left thigh. He just left his hand there. Shane could feel something amazing happening but he didn’t know what it was. He had never felt what he felt now. One thing he knew – Cliff was communicating with him on a different level. Cliff was starting to get hard too. “Shane, please move your bed next to mine. I think tonight we should cuddle.” Shane heard the directive and pushed the bed closer to his Master’s bed. The frames bumped up against each other. Shane crawled on top of his bed and lay in the middle, not knowing what to do. His heart was racing and his mind was on fire. Nothing like this had ever happened to him in his 22 years. He felt Cliff’s emotions rolling off of his body. He felt love and lust and compassion and caring. He felt that Cliff wanted him. He had NEVER felt wanted. His body and mind told him that he was irrevocably tied to this man. Anything, ANYTHING Cliff asked for would be granted to him. Shane almost (almost) felt normal, like any other guy. “Shane, get on top of your bed and then move towards my body…please.” “Cliff, don’t say the word ‘please’ to me. I will do you whatever you ask without question and without thought to consequence. You are different from anyone that I have ever met. I trust you… and I have never trusted anyone before.” Shane crawled slowly on top of the king sized bed that Cliff had commanded to be made. Cliff reached out his arm toward Shane and grabbed his shoulder, drawing him in. Shane’s tenuous resolve almost broke. He was trying to maintain control. Cliff pulled Shane closer. “I know this is scary for you. If you would like to, just back up into me and we can spoon. I’ll be the big spoon and you can be the little spoon.” “I don’t know what you mean. Spoon?” ‘Yes. I will cup your body into mine. It feels good.” “Cliff, don’t say things like ‘if you would like to.’ Anything you ask me to do, I will do. Anything.” Shane felt a pulse of energy coming from Cliff. Cliff desired him. He really truly desired him. Shane nestled into the larger man’s embrace. Shane was hard. All ten inches. Cliff wasn’t too far behind with a solid nine, and thick. Cliff put his arm around his new friend and just held him close. Cliff put a top-sheet over them both and thought how lucky he was to be able to care for his new roommate. There was something about Shane that drew him in. He hadn’t felt this kind of love in a long time. Shane, on the other hand, was attempting to control every muscle in his body. “FUCK!” he kept repeating inside of his head. “I have to slow down. I have to calm myself. I can’t lose the one person in my existence that really cares about me. I don’t want him to think that I am a monster.” Cliff brought Shane in closer. Shane could feel Cliff’s ample cock against his back. He noticed things about Cliff in this moment that he had not noticed before. He noticed how his chest had a light dusting of fur. He noticed his happy trail that erupted next to his navel and marched down to his crotch. He noticed that Cliff’s pecs were much harder than they looked from a casual glance. His nipples were beautiful and perfect quarter sized – well, maybe a bit bigger. He noticed Cliff’s breath on his own neck. It was warm and soft and eager. Shane could sense everything. Shane was losing control of himself…of the monster that was inside of him. And then it happened. He felt himself start to cum. He didn’t know that it could happen like this. His cock grew and lengthened. But something else happened too. His entire body shook. The barriers that he had made with other people in his life vanished in a moment. Shane embraced Cliff…embraced him in a way that made them one person. He could see Cliff in a way that Cliff couldn’t see himself. Shane surrendered. Shane knew he could get bigger and more powerful, but he didn’t know what that would mean for Cliff, so he tempered the effect and decided to re-set up barriers until he knew how Cliff would respond. Cliff—on the other hand—felt Shane change. He was emitting an energy that Cliff had never felt and somehow, it felt right and good – and extension of himself. Cliff gasped. He was feeling Shane’s body one second, warm and giving. The next second, Shane’s body was hard as steel. He couldn’t see with his eyes what was happening since it was dark in the room, but it felt powerful and like nothing he had experienced in his short 23-year life. Cliff didn’t know what was happening, but he did know one thing—Shane had opened himself up and Cliff wanted to give Shane the love and tenderness that he deserved and something that he had never felt. He continued to rub Shane’s shoulders and back and the petrification of Shane’s body commenced in earnest. Slowly and deliberately, Shane allowed himself to adapt into the being that he had feared. He grew harder. Everything on his body grew harder. Cliff said aloud, “Shane, I don’t know what’s happening, but I want to see it. I know there is something…something that you aren’t telling me, but that I can feel. I need, want, and must see it.” Shane simply responded, “Yes, Master. I know that you need to see this.” Shane lifted his index finder the smallest of degrees, coaxing the light switch to turn on from a dozen feet away. The room lit up with a warm incandescent light. Shane crawled off the bed and Cliff was lying supine staring at his new roommate. “What would you like to see, Cliff?” Cliff looked at the previous weakling that he had been talking with just a short while before and saw a GOD of muscle and strength. “Shane, please tell me what is happening. I can feel it, but my mind doesn’t know how this is possible.” “Cliff, Master. Should I call you Cliff or Master?” “Cliff. ‘Master sounds so weird.” “Cliff, this is the reason that I have never been loved. When growing up in foster care, I would start changing when I felt my foster family began to like me. I felt that their emotions were powering my body. I know that is foolish now.” Cliff began to understand what Shane had gone through. “I felt strong and invincible. But when my body began to change going through puberty, I couldn’t control it as much. I didn’t know I needed to. No one gave me guidance. No one loved me. “ “Shane, I am so sorry.” The waves of compassion that Cliff felt rippled through Shane and he began to grow again. It was more intense. Shane was responding to Cliff’s warmth. It was something so natural to them both. With the lights on now, Cliff could see what was happening. “Master Cliff?” Cliff winced. He didn’t like being called Master. “Yes Shane.” Shane’s body trembled as Cliff said his name. He was becoming hypersensitive to what Cliff wanted, needed, desired, or demanded. “Yes, Shane?” He repeated. Shane’s cock began expanding again at the sound of his name on the lips of the only man in his life that meant shit to him. Just the sound of Cliff saying his name made him raging hard. “Master Cliff…hmmmm… I mean Cliff… Sorry. I know you aren’t ready to be called Master quite yet. I am nervous about something. I am not as good as you are. I am not kind and pure and gentle. I don’t have positive regard for everyone like you do. If I am honest, I would like to kick Rich’s ass for making me feel embarrassed in front of you, Cliff. I want all of those foster parents to know how they made me feel. I want the guys that beat the shit out of me growing up to know that they fucked with the wrong kid. If I had developed to my potential then, I would have destroyed them all and I probably would have laughed about it. There is darkness in me that I am afraid of. I need you to help me Cliff. It scares me. I wish I was more like you.” Cliff watched Shane flex his slowly expanding muscles involuntarily, like he was just feeling them out, wanting to know that they were there. Cliff put his lips close to Shane’s ear and whispered. “Shane.” Shane let out a deep-throated moan at the utterance of his name by his owner. He looked almost crazed. The only thing he wanted was to please Cliff. It was arousing him and feeding him power that he had only begun to feel. Cliff’s mouth curled in a smile at the effect he was having on Shane. He wanted to fuck him but he wasn’t sure Shane was ready for that yet. “I will always be here for you, Shane. It is ok. Just like you jerking off watching me sleep, this is ok too. I don’t judge you for your past. I don’t blame you for wanting to mess up Rich and his pretty face, or the other people that have let you down. But I will never let you down. I care about you already and I know you know that.” Cliff leaned in and kissed Shane on his forehead. The veins in Shane’s body rose to the surface. Snaking around invisible boundaries and shields, thousands of vessels sprung up all over Shane’s body. On his shoulders, on his arms, on his abs, and face. Around his skull and down his traps where they nestled in his pecs. Angry finger-width vessels hugged his arms like a newborn to its mother. His legs were a veritable 3D puzzle of hard-as-stone muscle and sausage-width veins demanded attention. They were feeding something that was on the verge of being born. They were anxious and angry and pleased when Cliff commanded, “Show me what you are!” In the matter of a second, Cliff’s pulsing cock exploded a bounty of cum onto Shane’s chest. Shane looked like a rabid animal, snarling and gnashing his teeth in the air. “Yes! I will show you what I am!!!!” Shane howled with his head thrust back and pressing his chest toward the sky. The snakes that slithered all over Shane’s body pulsed with his heartbeat. They grew more thick and menacing. Cliff reached out to touch one and as he got close, the vein seemed to reach out for his touch. It seemed to respond to him. He pushed down and the snake that slithered across Shane’s upper pec bowed down to him and disappeared under the marble surface. Shane growled and emitted a sound somewhere between an orgasmic moan and the collapse of a mountain or eruption of a volcano. He looked at Shane’s face then down to his body. He touched the muscles that had been fed by the still-present snakes of vasculature. The muscle felt like stone, but instead of cold harshness, it felt warm and inviting. He knew that Shane was inviting him to enjoy this feeling and the compliance of his body to Cliff’s will. The solid chord of chest muscle leaping out of Shane’s pecs were delineated by a deep chasm – deeper than the individual bundles of muscle that rippled across Shane’s chest. Shane’s delts looked as if they were about to be over taken by a fleet of encroaching threads, but the threads were not threatening… they were muscle fibers willed into existence by Cliff’s request. Distinct. Hot. Pulsing. “Bigger!” Cliff thought and without saying anything aloud, Shanes delts exploded in every direction, every thread, sinew, and bundle fighting for real estate. He reached out to touch the newly formed monolith and as he touched the skin, he could feel electricity arcing out toward his fingers. Little sparks were being generated between himself and the muscle he commanded to grow in Shane’s shoulders. Cliff saw Shane’s neck and almost blacked out. The entire surface was covered with wriggling serpents under the skin. He looked at Shane’s chest. Giant slithering blood vessels moved freely just under the surface. He looked at Shane’s abs. Angry pythons engorged themselves upon Shane’s stomach with smaller tributaries branching off of the larger vessels. He looked at Shane’s arms. The monstrous veins were feeding something that lied beneath. He didn’t know how, but he knew that the veins weren’t the parasites; the veins were nourishing whatever was growing. Somehow, in the depths of his being, Cliff knew that this monstrous beast was being fed by the vasculature that he had just witnessed and he, Cliff, was in control of it. He was its Master. Finally he felt himself overcome by what he saw and felt. “Shane! Shane!” He reached out and grabbed Shane’s arm. The touch of his fingers against Shane’s skin caused the formerly quiet and cautious Shane to howl and begin convulsing. He shook and trembled. Cliff looked down into Shane’s eyes. They were open now but entirely black. Black as India Ink or the darkest of nights. Even without the pupils of normal eyes, Cliff knew that Shane was looking directly at him. Shane smiled wickedly and said, “Master, I will not make further requests of you, but I would ask for you to test the boundaries of my power. I do not know what I am capable of. Cliff, you make me feel safe and protected.” Cliff couldn’t believe that the thing that Shane was slowly becoming would need safety and protection from a mere mortal, but somehow, he understood that it was true. Shane needed love and caring. He needed to feel protected and safe. That is what he desired above all else. Then it became clear to Cliff. The muscle beast Shane was on the verge of becoming, the monster his arteries were now feeding, was only concerned with those basic needs. It didn’t matter how powerful Shane became. He would first need to feel the acceptance and unconditional positive regard that Cliff could give him. Cliff was that kind of guy. He could feel Shane’s power and strength growing without even touching him. “Are you afraid, Shane?” Shane once again convulsed at the mention of his name. It echoed in his mind. Cliff’s loving voice was ricocheting inside of his head and it made him need more. He composed himself for a moment. “I am afraid that you will cast me aside if I become something that you detest or find grotesque.” “Don’t you worry about that. I love muscle. “ Cliff grabbed a hold of Shane’s developing quads, picked out one of the muscles wrestling on the surface and applied pressure. It was hard, but it gave way to Cliff’s touch. “See that there? “ motioning to Shane’s growing quads. “We need more of that.” Cliff’s smiled and put his hand on the side of Shane’s cheek. “You want to test your boundaries? Let’s take you out for a spin.” Shane, with his marble hard body and expanding vasculature, looked into Cliff’s eyes and felt more love than has been known to man. The last thing that Cliff heard before his passed out was a loud crack and the sound of a mountain growing, moaning, and rumbling.