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Fairly short chapter. This is more of a build up the next (better) one. I thought about posting both of them together but I think it would be too much for one post. Twelve “I can’t believe you have vodka stashed under your bed!” Luke says to me as I pour him a vodka and coke. “You make me sound like an alcoholic! Where else am I supposed to keep it?” I ask, handing him the cup. “Plus … it was a good place to hide it from my last roommate!” Luke takes a sip of his drink. He’s not wearing the super tight, bright blue t-shirt he wore to the SU bar as I suggested. Instead, he’s got an equally tight plain white one on. He’s also taken his glasses off and put his contact lenses in. His hair is styled. His lovely arse is sticking out in his skinny jeans which have rips on the knees. I really can’t envision him looking any fucking cuter. “What was he like?” Luke asks. “Craig?! Mmmm. An annoying little prick!” I reply in a casual tone. “Are you actually gonna tell me where we’re going?” I give Luke a teasing grin and wiggle my eyebrows up and down. “We’re going to the SU bar aren’t we?” “Oh, ye of little faith!” I say, before taking a big gulp of my drink. Then I pick up my phone. “Our ride will be here in ten minutes!” Luke looks so perplexed. “Ride?!” And then his expression changes to something else. Like he’s disappointed. Even a little winded for some reason. “Is someone else coming out with us?” My heart flutters and I’m not sure why. And now I’m suddenly smiling. And I can’t seem to stop. Luke really doesn’t seem to like the idea of someone else joining us on our outing. Is he just shy around people he doesn’t know or is it that he just wants it to be the two of us? I shake my head. “Nope! It’s just us!” I tell him. His face relaxes and he’s suddenly got this pleased grin on his face. “Get your jacket on!” Luke obeys my order and puts on a cute, trendy, bright blue downs jacket with a hood. I’ve never seen him wearing it before but it’s just so him. I grab my black and dark grey camouflage bomber jacket and Luke zips his coat up. He looks so warm and snuggly. I suddenly have the urge to put my thick arms around him and give him a big cuddle. Just squeeze the fucking fuck out of him. And now he’s putting on a pair of grey wooly gloves. For fuck’s sake. Could this boy be any more adorable? He looks at me and suddenly seems nervous. I feel a twist in my stomach. Because I realise I’m just standing there staring at him. “What?” he asks me, a little warily. Fuck! I playfully screw up my face. “You’re wearing gloves!” I tease. He smirks and looks a little embarrassed. “It’s cold outside!” he says with a shrug. I go over to the full length mirror near the door of our room to check myself out. I sometimes wonder if my personality would be different if I was just an average looking guy. I’m sure I wouldn’t be able to get away with acting as much of a dick as I do sometimes. People would definitely treat me differently. I know that much. I look like a fucking monster in my bomber jacket. I’m wearing a black vest underneath because why the fuck not? The deep groove separating my pecs is peeking out the top of the black material. I turn to the side and check out my laughably huge arse stretching the material of my skinny jeans. I’m feeling mischievous. I lift the bottom of my jacket up and stick out my arse in Luke’s direction. “Does my bum look big in these?” My stomach flips as I turn around to see Luke’s reaction. He’s shaking his head. But he’s smirking like crazy. And fuck. I swear he’s blushing a bit too. My phone beeps and I go over to my bed to check it. I gasp when I look at the screen. “Uber’s here!” “Uber?!” Luke cries. Ooops. I didn’t mean to spoil it, but I love how surprised he is. I mischievously smirk and down the rest of my vodka and coke. “Woody! Where are we going?!” He sounds a little anxious. “I told you. It’s an adventure!” “Where is there to go round here in an Uber?” he asks as we exit our room. I feel this giddy rush of excitement as we make our way through Hanson Hall, heightened by the buzz of the alcohol in my system. Because me and Luke are escaping the Montgomery University campus. “Luke, would you relax?” “I just wanna know where we’re going.” “Somewhere where you don’t need woolly gloves!” I look over at him and playfully grin. He rolls his eyes and smirks back. God. He really does look so fucking cute tonight. Is it ever socially acceptable to give your friend a random, no questions asked cuddle? “Okay, where’s the nearest train station?” Look looks confused. “Erm … Little Hatton? Isn’t that kind of far to go in an Uber?” “Not really!” I reply with a shrug. What about holding hands? Friends do that sometimes, right? “Okay, I didn’t realise this was gonna be an expensive adventure.” “It’s not,” I tell him casually. “Stop worrying!” “I’ll give you half the fare as soon we get to a cash point.” I groan. “Luke, it’s paid for! I have an account. Kind of.” Luke shoots me a suspicious look, his eyes narrowed. “Okay, technically it’s my dad’s account!” I explain. “Erm … won’t he be pissed that you’re booking Ubers to trek halfway across Scotland without asking him first?” I laugh. “Bit of an exaggeration on the distance! Luke, he won’t even notice. Trust me.” And now he’s looking at me even more suspiciously. And then the corner of his mouth is curling into an almost smug grin. Suddenly I feel oddly nervous. “You’re fucking loaded aren’t you?” “No! I’m not!” I reply firmly. “Hmmm. But your parents are? Loaded?” I don’t say anything. I always get nervous when this subject comes up. I always worry that people will treat me differently when they find out that my family is fairly well off. “They are aren’t they?” Luke says, still smirking. He almost seems excited to have figured something out about me. “They do okay!” I reply defensively. “Look … I’m not some spoilt rich kid, okay? I had a job back home and everything!” Luke gasps. “Wow! A job! Did daddy make you get one to learn the value of money?” I smirk and shake my head. “Fuck off. And don’t say “daddy”. It’s … weird!” “Did you have a horse? And a Bentley? Oooh. And a swimming pool?” Luke teases. I shake my head and smirk in spite of myself. Luke’s clearly pleased that he’s found something he can tease me about. “Come to think of it, you do talk a bit posh. Sebastian!” “Luke, you’re Northern. Everyone sounds posh to you.” “If you say so!” he replies, still with that smug grin on his face. He knows he’s got me. The little fucker. But I have to say, I kind of love it. The teasing. Him finding out something about me that I usually keep quiet. What else is Luke gonna figure out about me tonight? I feel a rush of excitement at the possibilities. When we get outside into the cold air and walk away from the university buildings, I’m reminded of that happy buzz I feel whenever I’m venturing out to stay with Emily for the weekend. Only this feels bigger than that. More exciting. I look over at Luke and he shoots me this excited grin and my insides suddenly feel like they’re on fire. I guess spontaneously kissing your friends isn’t normal either is it? “Uber for Henry Wood?” I ask the driver when we get to the car. He gives me a big grin and nods. Luke side eyes me and smirks as we both climb into the back seat. “It is … a college for muscle men?” the driver asks us as we pull away. I look at Luke and he gives me a knowing grin. “Pretty much!” I reply. The driver nods and lets out this jolly giggle. I can’t resist. “Shredded monsters only!” “Ahhhh!” the driver says, chuckling again. Luke’s biting his lip to stop from smiling so much. “And a couple of soon-to-be shredded monsters too!” I say, smirking at Luke with a raised eyebrow. He looks so fucking yummy sitting next to me in his shiny blue jacket and skinny jeans. “So, Henry, I take it we’re going to a pub in Little Hatton?” Luke asks. I pull a face. “Nope! I’m taking you somewhere much better than that!” “Oh God. You’re gonna lead me down some dark alley aren’t you? With Deano and Shaun at the end of it waiting to beat me up?” I know he’s only joking, but the comment completely throws me. Has he not gathered by now that I genuinely think of him as a friend? “Luke!” I exclaim, glaring at him. Then I shake my head. I feel like saying “so much for trusting me” but I don’t. “I’m joking!” he says, with a shrug. But he suddenly looks a little sheepish. Like maybe he regrets saying it. “If you must know, we’re going to a strip club!” “WHAT?!” he exclaims, looking absolutely horrified. I’m laughing and the Uber driver’s laughing too. Ha! I like this dude. “Okay, think about where we’re going,” I tell Luke cryptically. He looks confused. “Little Hatton?” “Yes, but more specifically!” “Ummm … the Little Hatton train station?” “BOOM! And what’s at the Little Hatton train station?” “Trains?!” “Exactly!” “Woody, where the hell are you taking me?” He looks genuinely nervous. “Just this little place I know.” “Called …” I shrug. “Glasgow!” “Glasgow?!” he cries. His voice is high pitched and squeaky. “Relax! We’ll get the last train back to Little Hatton. If we must. You’ll be tucked up in bed by one-ish.” Tucked up in bed in that white vest you always sleep in while your cute, little arse is snuggled into whatever adorable boxers you’re wearing today. Luke’s shaking his head. “I can’t believe you’re taking me all the way to Glasgow at this time of night. You’re absolutely mad!” But I can tell he’s secretly excited about what we’re doing. He’s got this little smile on his face. I look at him and smile back. I take him in. His cute grin. His amazing eyes. And those adorable dimples. I can already feel that tonight is gonna be good.

Beast Bunny 3: Tug of War The world of this story is one of superheroes and supervillains. The massively muscled supervillain who went by Beast Bunny had been working closely with his champion Buck Brawn and his ward known as Mooslave for several months. In the time they were together both Buck and the Bunny had grown their strength by leaps and bounds. There wasn't much that could give them a proper workout in their world but the workouts they gave each other during sexual activity. They always remained the same relative height, unless flexing larger, but their muscles gained density and power beyond power. Mooslave however, had gained another two feet in height, since our last tale, standing a full fourteen feet tall of massive moose muscles. They also made him change his villain name from Mooslave to Mooservant as in time he had become more like a valet and butler than any semblance of a slave. Buck had focused so much of his time on love interest in Beast Bunny that it upset one of the others in the feared five of the Legion of Lawlessness. Cock-A-Doodle Doom was not happy. He was so upset that the Legion's attentions were drifting from Buck's command alone that he left the Legion and returned to his home country of Wyandottia. His exit was extremely public and in the middle of a battle with several prominent superheroes on the news. The Legion could not let this stand and in his place there was an empty seat in the chamber of the Feared Five. It was declared that whosoever either brought in the head of Cock-A-Doodle Doom or managed, to cripple his forces, would be granted a seat at the table of the Feared Five. Supervillains from Armoredvark to Zappallama all tried to invade Wyandottia, many of whom were killed while others were injured and sent back with their tails between their legs. At their evening meal, Beast Bunny sat across from Buck Brawn while Mooservant served them several courses of expertly prepared meals. His former secret identity was a professional chef for years and so the meal was quite excellent. It was there that Buck, dressed in a tuxedo thong, with fancy cuffs at his writs and a black bow tie made an offer to his boyfriend, “You know. As strong as you are there is a good chance that you could take on the Cock and win.” The hyper muscular rabbit, dressed very similarly to the deer, shook his head, “Maybe but what would I do as a part of the Feared Five? I like having my boyfriend as the most powerful man in the world. We have it nice as is without both of us needing to be at that table.” Buck quirked an eyebrow, “Really?” “No not really. Tomorrow I'm gonna go to Cock-A-Doodle Doom and take over his country then maybe one of the surrounding countries if I feel up to it later in the day. Then when both of us are on the Feared Five we can fuck the world and there would be no one able to stop us...” Beast Bunny smiled, “All I need is those miles of tritanium cables we stole and I'll have them at my mercy.” The table suddenly started to splinter and then flipped over when Buck's massive cock ripped from his thong and shot forward ten feet in a matter of seconds. His balls expanded till they hit the floor where he sat. He smiled to the rabbit as his massive cock loomed over the head of his bunny love, “That's what I like to hear.” The rabbit then flexed his pecs upward to engulf a good portion of the cock, pulling himself up to hug onto it as he licked and kissed the huge throbbing humanoid deer cock. Mooservant, dressed the same as his masters and his now 36 inch hard on ripped free from the display of super strength that the deer exhibited by simply springing a boner. He looked to the rabbit and said, “Will that be all for dinner this evening, Master Krolik?” Beast Bunny looked to the moose and smiled then to the deer, “Maybe all for dinner, yes but I think we could both do with some desert.” The moose snorted in anticipation then gave a small bow as he approached his masters, “As you wish, sir. How should we proceed then?” Buck walked towards the moose and knocked him over with his giant boner that had a muscular bunny attatched to it by a combination pecs and legs hug. He looked down at the moose as his muscles began to swell to obscene sizes, “Get ready to take the first couple loads Mooservant. Next we're going to fuck this whole complex to the ground and sleep on the rubble. My boy's got a big day tomorrow.” The fuckening began in earnest and true to his word, they did just that. The next day Beast Bunny was on an automated super jet flying on his way to meet up in Wyandottia with his opponent. The rabbit kicked back in his regular super outfit, just the silver cuffs at his ankles and wrists, the black shoulder and neck cover he donned with a matching diamond mask, and then the red, overstretched, bulletproof thong and silver belt to match his cuffs. He was busy texting with buck on his communicator when a red warning light popped up on the display before him. He tapped the display and it showed them approaching the border of Wyandottia... and that missiles had been launched to intercept the aircraft. He barely had time to react, simply saying, “Huh...” The plane was blown up with an impressive explosion as twin missiles exploded in a blaze of glory and a fireball that crashed to the countryside of the poisoned lands of Wyandottia. The fireball crashed to the ground blew out a crater over 700 feet across. The billowing plains were further rent asunder by ten tanks and a giant robot shaped like an anthropomorphic that crossed the lands on the way to where the villainous rabbit crash landed. They all opened fire into the epicenter of the exploded wreck, firing tank shells and giant robot's missiles into the burning mess, cratering the ground out further as they exploded. The barrage lasted several minutes of nonstop firing and when they stopped there was practically no trace of any aircraft left on the land. It was hard to pick much out from the thick and billowing flames but the soldiers attacking relaxed a bit, assuming the victory had already been taken by their side. They were mistaken. From the flames walked a figure unlike any they had seen. Beast Bunny had survived not only the crash but the fires and the other blasts as well. He didn't walk fast but rather at a leisurely pace and appeared completely unharmed. His thong, mask and neck piece had somehow remained in tact while the metal of his cuffs and belt glowed white hot. He didn't seem to be burned in the least or even have the slightest scratch. Smoke and steam billowed off his form and all the heat did seem to make him break a sweat. He looked at the tanks and the giant rooster bot as he grinned and said, “Helluva sauna you guys have. What say I show you what a real beating looks like?” Everyone seemed to stare at him in awe before he placed a hand on the nearest tank and the sheer heat of his body caused the metal to turn red hot and melt from his touch alone. He smiled, “Man I am on fire today.” The destruction that followed was fast and brutal as he picked up one tank by the turret and swung it around to knock away a further two tanks. He then crushed it down with his bare hands till it was little more than basketball size and tossed it through the remaining tanks making a series of explosions that caused the robot pilot, and therefore the robot, to recoil from terror. The super heated super rabbit leaped at the giant robot and exploded through the chest, coming out the other side holding what appeared to be a rather important part of it's engine. He landed holding the melting metal in hand as it dripped and melted over his arm, still rather harmlessly to the powerful rabbit villain. He saw the spools of cable he brought with him and realized that he didn't want to risk melting them at his current temperature... so he set off to find a way to cool off. He tossed the engine behind him and ran off across the landscape at blinding speed till he came upon a lake and jumped in with a cannonball splash that exploded into steam, making a fog that spread over the surrounding landscape. He sank till he hit the bottom of the lake and then kicked off the bottom, rocketing off into the skies and landing several miles away with his super heated cuffs cracked from the extreme heat followed by the sudden cooling. He then ran back to the scene of the crash and looked around for the massive cable spools he brought with him. Five massive spools that were in the aircraft with him had luckily survived the crash, each of them the size of a tank with miles of cable spooled onto them. He brought all the cable spools together and He then hopped high in the sky with a light spin to give him a 360 view of where he was and where the capitol was. He saw the fleets of tanks, mobile fortresses, giant robots, soldiers, and airships headed his way from the direction of the capital. He landed with a cratering crash and then ran towards the fleets of enemies. Missiles exploded around him and gunfire bounced off his nigh invulnerable musculature. Tank shells exploded off his pecs and biceps, a very pleasurable experience but something he hadn't the time to focus on. He literally ran through the soldiers, tanks and even a mobile fortress with nothing offering him any resistance on his way to his target. Tanks, cars, and even that mobile fortress exploded as he ran through them on his way to the capitol city of Wyandottia. The gates of the castle-like city were rooster themed with giant metal gates that were two feet thick. The young muscular rabbit stuck his hands into the metal doors and ripped them from their impossibly huge hinges, tossing them behind him. Castle guards opened fire as the rabbit sped through the building on his search, blowing through thick stone walls like they were made of styrofoam. He made his way through to the center of the maze, blasting through walls rather than taking the time to solve the puzzle. Then he came upon the throne room. The size of a warehouse and ornately designed in a brutalist architecture. Beast Bunny stopped to look at the well-designed interior as the chamber guards emptied their clips on him, sending bullets bouncing around the room. Cock-A-Doodle Doom sat at the back of the room on a golden rooster throne in a royal outfit complete with a black cloak that mostly concealed his suit clad muscular body and the hood pulled down shrouding his metal-beaked face. The rooster sighed as his men finished emptying their clips but lifted a hand to signify them to stop. He tilted his head as he looked to the young rabbit with his fingers pressed to one another in classic villain style, “Fenevad nyuszi, milyen jó megjelenni a bejárati ajtónál.” Beast Bunny quirked his eyebrow, “I'm sorry was that words or just jibberish cause you're so scared of what I'm about to do?” The rooster felt like he was going to be doing a lot of sighing that day. He spoke in English but with a heavy Hungarian accent, “I see... so you don't find a need to improve your mind because you are made of muscles. There is more to being a villain than punching and kicking things, young man.” “With muscles like mine there doesn't need to be much more to the villainy,” the muscular bunny punctuated with a few flexes that made his arms and legs grow to obscene proportions. “Is that so?” asked the rooster. His eyes glowed purple and the rabbit floated into the air, glowing purple himself, “You see, I may command a country that I rule but I took my position by force. With finess no less. I fight with honor. You fight with sheer brutality.” The rabbit struggled but there was nothing to push against. He grunted and then inhaled with powerful lungs, drawing in vast amounts of air... then he blew out. The rooster never left his throne but a shield of shimmering purple light surrounded him as all the decorations were blown from the walls and his men were blown around the room. Cock-A-Doodle Doom simply sat in his seat and watched as the rabbit struggled. The rabbit then growled and started to flex his muscles bigger and bigger. His pecs swelling like a wall with his abs jutting out below them. His thighs, buttocks, calves and the soles of his feet expanded out larger. His shoulders became boulders on top of boulders and his biceps, triceps and forearms all exploded out with tremendous muscles that exploded forth larger and larger till they extended out more than thirty feet from the rabbit. The rooster tore off the roof of the building and tossed it aside with his mind alone. He then elevated the rabbit higher to ensure he wouldn't get any opportunity to touch the ground or anything solid. Beast Bunny flexed bigger in powerful bursts, only becoming more grotesquely muscular with each flex as his bands and even his neck piece burst from his body. He kept his cock under control until he realized that it was the key to his freedom. He let out his beast and it ripped free with balls the size of sedans. The cock extending fifty feet from his body as he flexed it and spurt forth precum that rained down over the countryside behind the castle city. The only thing the bunny wore at that point was his diamond mask. He looked down at the rooster and said, “I don't know that you are powerful enough to hold back one of my orgasms, and as much as I would like to find out... I had a different plan for conquest. Something that might appeal to you. Something with more... finesse. You like finesse right?” “I'm listening,” said Cock-A-Doodle Doom as he looked up at the grotesquely flexed mass of rabbit muscles. “Tell you what... I'll relax my flexes, you set me down, and I'll talk like a gentleman,” said Beast Bunny. The rooster nodded, “Agreed.” The rabbit then returned to his normal 4'3” height and the rooster lowered him back to the ground, mere feet before his throne. He looked to the older supervillain and said, “There. That's better, isn't it?” The rooster looked down to see the rabbit still sporting an erection that was half as long as he was tall as he said, “Gentleman don't usually have conversations with throbbing erections out in the naked air.” “Oh this?” Beast Bunny looked down, “Yeah that's not gonna go down till I cum. Besides I kind of flexed out of everything I was wearing.” “Very well. What was your proposition then?” asked Cock-A-Doodle Doom. Beast Bunny grinned and said, “A tug of war for the whole country.” “I'm not following.” “I brought with me some tritanium cables. Here is what I want to do. We rig them up to every tank and vehicle you have. Even rig them up to something that you pull with your mind powers. That's one end. On the other end, all those cables are hooked up to my throbbing dick. We draw a line in the dirt and if I can make all your armies cross that line by myself then I get the country.” The rooster quirked an eyebrow, “What if we pull you across the line?” Beast Bunny shrugged, “Then I will submit to you. I will surrender and become your loyal servant to have you command me to do whatever you wish. I'll be yours and at your beck and call.” The rooster pondered a moment and relished at the thought of that. The first thing he would have the rabbit do would be to kiss his boots. He could already see hooking up a personal transport to the muscular bunny but then he snapped back to reality and with a grin no less as he said, “Very well. I agree to your terms. If you can defeat all my armies in such a fashion then I do not deserve to rule this country.” The rabbit nodded and walked off stroking his cock a bit as he made his way from the throne room. It took a few hours to hook up all the vehicles. Thousands of tanks, dozens of mobile fortresses, hundreds of giant robots all hooked to the rabbit and all ready to pull. On Beast Bunny's end he had to work a clever way out to intertwine the cables and meld them together with his impossibly strong grip until he made the final wrap around his cock so that it was secure along the top of his shaft and up behind the head of his prodigious member that he had swollen and flexed to a thick length of five feet long, equal to his somewhat flexed up height. The line drawn was twenty feet away from the rabbit, five feet across, a thousand feet long and went ten feet down. The bunny rocked back and forth on the soles of his feet as he stood at the ready. Cock-A-Doodle Doom stood on the other side of the small ravine with his hands behind his back, “How shall we signal the start then?” “You guys can start any time. I'll be plenty ready,” smiled Beast Bunny. The rooster gave a nod and floated off on a disk of purple energy before he looked over all his forces, tied to the member of a teenager, ready to not only pull him to the ravine but to destroy him as well, should they be unable to move him. He didn't expect they should fail. He raised a hand and his forces revved their engines. The rooster brought his hand down and they moved forward at full force. The tritanium cords pulled taught and started to drag the bunny forward an inch or two. In retaliation, Beast Bunny flexed his calves to massive proportions till they swelled and jutted into the ground behind him. They dug in deep and held him firm in the ground. The massive bunny crossed his arms over his immense chest and flexed the soles of his feet as well, making them jab deep into the ground as well. The rabbit was not going anywhere. He watched in amusement as the armies of a nation pulled at his cock with super strong cables that were nigh unbreakable. His cock throbbed and the cables moaned in response. It twitched and pulled back on the cables, yanking the enemy forces but the rabbit had to take a deep breath and calm himself. He focused on the sensations and forced himself not to grow. He controlled the throbbing of his cock with concentration as he put his hands behind his head with his elbows pointing skyward. Beast Bunny let out a few moans as his powerful cock was tugged upon and started to spurt precum into the gulley pit between him and the armed forces of the rooster. The rooster looked upon the rabbit in disbelief as he held back thousands of men in very powerful vehicles by the strength of his cock alone. He marveled at the power and had to have it under his command. He floated over to the furthest edge of his forces, at the base of a mountain range, and raised a stone platform up from the ground with his mind powers. He stood upon it and then gripped the vehicles of his army with his mental powers and started to pull with ten times the force. He reinforced their structures with his mind to keep the vehicles together and then motioned for his airships to hook on to the city ships. They fired harpoons in and then started pulling at full force, yet the vehicles still gained no traction. Beast Bunny focused on flexing one muscle at a time to prevent his cock from outgrowing the cables and ripping free. He flexed his toes making them grow one at a time till they enlarged and dug into the ground. Then he flexed one calf muscle at a time before reducing it to flex the next. Then he went to the buttocks, then flexed each individual ab in turn before flexing his abs in unison with his buttocks for an incredible symphony of muscle growth and reduction that looked like a song made from muscle. He made his pectoral muscles join in the song of buffness that played across his body and brought in his arms, shoulders, neck, and ears the last. All the while his balls swelled and before he knew it they were swelling into the ground, cratering it under their weight and making their way towards the ravine. He didn't want to lose the wager on a technicality by having his massive balls enter the ravine for him and so he then moved to end the little competition. A simple flex was all it took. He flexed his core and his cock at once, making it go from pointing straight forward to standing straight up against his pecs with a sonic boom as it impacted his chest. The armies of the rooster never stood a chance. Every tank, every mobile fortres, every giant robot and airship were all yanked away from their positions and tossed into the air. The rabbit peeked around the pink pillar of his own massive cock flesh to see the tanks, fortresses, robots and airships all flying through the air in his direction. He relaxed the control on his cock and let it swell bigger and bigger. A few pulses later it was twenty feet long and thick as ever. It made the metal wrapped just below the head stretch and screech as it was torn apart and popped free off the end of his cock, leaving the rabbit nude except for his mask once again. The enemy forces all flew overhead and past him, crashing behind him with but a single flex. The sheer power of his cock alone turned him on to no end and so he brought his now fifty foot long cock down to the ground with a crash that knocked Cock-A-Doodle Doom from his footing and collapsed the stone pillar he erected. The display of strength followed by the collapse of the stone pillar did it and then he let loose an orgasm with a force he had never before allowed himself to release. He came like a bomb. To say that his load was massive would be to put the sheer magnitude of his load to shame. A tsunami tidal wave a mile high erupted from him and washed forth over the countryside towards the rooster. The rooster had no time to react as everything went white and then everything went dark. He came with that same force for a full five minutes and when the load subsided he saw that not only had he painted all he saw for miles in white super rabbit seed... but that he came so furiously that he split the mountain in half that the rooster had stood in front of. The country was his now to do with what he pleased. The position among the feared five was now secured. Hours later he found Cock-A-Doodle Doom, surrounded in a purple bubble of his waning powers, miles from where he was. The field collapsed as the rabbit stood before him. The rooster's body was beaten and bruised. His clothing torn. His metal beak bent and cracked from impacts. The rooster reached up at the rabbit that stood over him and pleaded, “Please... No more... I surrender...” Beast Bunny smiled and said, “I'm sure you do. Now you will send a message to the people of this country that I am in charge now.” “I will! I will! Just please spare me!” pleaded the rooster as he lay on the ground, almost unable to move. Beast Bunny scooped up the rooster and held him tight as they went to the capitol city of his brand new country together for the official surrender.

Well who doesn't love a cliffhanger? Hehe - thanks, matie! Glad you enjoyed it! The next one's ready to go so it won't be long before I share it.

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

NOTE: Hey everyone, a quick and dirty one. This one is a darker variety. I don't do fanfic much, appreciate hearing what the community thinks. Huge shoutout to BigBen, he wrote this awesome story called SuperGod and I'm kind of doing my own take on it; it's one of the best out there. Thanks to Ben for writing it. And thanks for reading. It sucks being the weak kid. It's my senior year and life as the school nerd was running me down. All the kids picked on me, even the younger kids. PE was my worst nightmare, Coach had us do hard drills and forced everyone to shower naked, the football jocks picked on me and my unathletic friends to no end. I grew tired of it. I grew vengeful, I grew angry. “I'm not going to stand for this anymore,” I said. “I gotta do something about it.” Superman was on the scene, all the rave, insanely popular, of course; he was rescuing people and aiding law enforcement. I remember as a freshman this senior named Clark did a lot of honorable stuff, he was also popular. But a few weeks ago I made a connection: this man of steel was actually the elusive man I remember from my freshman year, Clark Kent. No one else seemed to put the two together, and I sure wasn't going to tell anyone. When Clark was a senior and I was a freshman, he gained respectable reputation for himself but he didn't talk much and kept to himself. He was good at hiding the alien that he was. But I wasn't fooled. He never helped me, after all. He even looked at me during PE one day my freshman year, I could see him contemplating to rescue me, and he didn't. I got a black eye that day from the bully Bruce, a football lineman. He's still in my PE class today. I never forgave Clark for that. Shortly after that embarrassing incident I discovered something strange about Clark. He was changing in the baseball locker room after practice. I ran into the locker room to avoid the bullies who were trying to pin me down and use me for punching practice. I hid in a locker and saw Clark undressing. On his chest was a subtle, scar-like S. It grew red every few seconds. He didn't want anyone to see it. He was hiding something. Of course I didn't make the connection until I saw the S on the superman hero outfit, a tight fitting one piece of blue and red that proudly showed the hero that he was. Then I knew, it was the same guy. Superman? Clark Kent? He didn't fool me. A few weeks ago I discovered Clark's secret hideout at his parent's old farm in Smallville. He used it when he wasn't traveling to his fortress, or whatever it is. He didn't think anyone knew about this hideout in Smallville, but I hiked miles through the forest to find it. There I discovered everything about his past, about his alien ancestry, about his supernatural powers, about his incredible physique and stamina. I lusted for it. I wanted it, it was the answer to my own pathetic existence. But how could I get his powers? After my second visit to the barn, I discovered the kryptonite. Apparently it crash landed fragments of Clark's homeworld. Maybe the planet was destroyed, I don't know. But after leaving his hideout I found four chunks of red meteor glowing in the forest, near the path I took to his hideout. I picked up the rocks and stashed them away, running back to Clark's hideout to read about the red meteors he wrote in his journal. This stuff was the key. It was a special kind of kryptonite, it could literally pull and move the alien's power from one body to another. I wanted it. It was going to aid me in moving his power into me. I had been studying the effects of the meteor for a few weeks and was able to use some chemistry equipment from the high school to boil it down into a liquid form. I could use a modified version of the kryptonite, combining it with magnesium, to force Kent into a hypnosis, then I could use the liquid kryptonite on his suit to aid me in pulling his powers. I knew what to do, I only had to get the man of steel under my control. I sneaked back to his hideout on a Friday night and patiently waited for him to return. Now that he was a reporter or something in Metropolis he didn't come back to his hideout often, but I knew he'd come back tonight because he wasn't on the news. I fell asleep behind a haystack before waking to a shaking wind coming from a large hole in the barn. The man of steel, in his tight and muscle-defining outfit, flew into his domain and used his powers to barrier it, protecting him and me from the outside world. He had no idea I was there. I smiled. I watched him write at his desk, focusing on his heroic deeds of the day. He wrote an entry in his journal and read a book for awhile. The muscles on the alien were magnificent. I couldn't look away. His thick head of dark hair waved on his scalp, and his hair prickled over his hands and face. This create was magnificent, and he was going to be mine. He stood and stretched himself, looking around to see if anyone was looking. Of course he thought he was isolated. Then he did something that surprised me. He started to slip himself out of his suit! “oh this is perfect!” I told myself, as I needed his suit to aid me in transporting his powers into me. Superman took his left and right arm and with some struggle peeled the suit away from his arms before sliding it down his chest. Unhooking his cape and hanging it on a nearby hangar. The man peeled his suit down his chest exposing his large and bulked back and shoulders. He reached his waist and rolled it over his ass. The alien wasn't even wearing any underwear! Just his one piece suit. The man of steel didn't shave his ass or legs, and his dark hair prickled out as he slid it down his body and stepped out of the suit, revealing his naked, power-ridden body. He hung his suit and turned toward me. I hid behind the haystack. His rod was growing. The alien was getting aroused! He took his hands and slid them through his pubic hair staring at himself in the mirror, flexing his muscles, admiring his massive and sculpted physique. “This is too easy,” I said. I needed the alien in his most vulnerable state, and this was the perfect opportunity. With his back turned to me once again I grabbed a vial of the liquid red kryptonite and pulled off the top. I had to just splash a little on him to weaken him, then I could move forward with my plan. The man started pumping his massive rod, letting the world around him drift away. I quickly stepped behind him and flung the bottle onto his muscle-rocked back. “ARGH!” he screamed in pain. The liquid quickly sunk into the alien's body and he twisted and turned as his body seized in pain. “What the...who are you?” He said, falling onto the ground, letting go of his dick. “It doesn't matter,” I replied. “Go to sleep now, superman, I'll see you in a minute.” It took a lot of effort to pull the man of steel to a barn post in the center of his lair. I tied his chest to the barn post to hold him there, and took a chunk of my reduced magnesium kryptonite and hung it right above his head, just high enough to keep him weak and dreary, while still giving him some consciousness. After a few minutes the man of steel woke up. “What? Where...who are you?” he said, still in pain from my attack earlier. “What's it matter? I'm about to become superman.” I said smiling, watching the man of steel lift himself up, only to see himself tethered to the post behind him. “But you can call me Kyle,” That was my name, but I didn't really care at this point. “You were at my high school, but how did you know about me?” superman asked. “You fuckin neglected me when I was tormented, superman!” I said. “I knew you were Clark Kent ever since I saw you get naked after your baseball practice. I could see the S inscribed on your chest, you tried so hard to hide it, but you didn't know I was there, hiding in the locker room from the bullies who you neglected to protect me from! Well, it doesn't matter anymore. You let yourself get exposed. You let me find out about it. I discovered your weaknesses and I discovered what this rock can do. And now I'm going to take what you neglected, and I'm going to use it for myself.” The Kryptonian looked at me quizzically. He had no idea. “You're trying to tell me after years of batting your foes you don't know what this shit can do?” I asked. “This is red kryptonite, it can pull your incredible powers out of your body, and deposit them into me. And I'm going to use it.” I couldn't help but chuckle, these powers were about to be mine. “Don't you get it super FREAK?! This is the end for you! You locked us into your lair and now I'm going to use your powers against you!” Superman started to put the pieces together. He saw what the red kryptonite could do. He knew what I was going to make of him. “No, no you can't!” He started to beg. “Your planet needs me, I'm their hope for an oncoming siege, I'm here to save you not torment you! Don't do this! You don't understand!” His voice getting continually desperate. I laughed again. “Oh so the all powerful alien is begging now? I love it. Human's aren't hurt by the kryptonite. So after I gain your powers I will be unstoppable. I will be immune to all attacks. I will take over as the planet's new savior. But only after my tormentors feel the wrath of my powers!” I could feel my dick hardening at the fantasy. It was going to be awesome. I knew if I got this far I would get his powers. I would become Superman. No stopping me now. The naked man of steel struggled underneath the glowing red rock. He wanted to escape but he couldn't. I had come this far, I had to finish what I came here to do. I took the suit neatly hanging on the wall and found a bucket. I needed it to move his powers into me. I stuffed the suit into a bucket and dumped two vials of the red, krypton liquid into the bucket. The liquid starting cloning itself as it integrated into the suit, creating a full bucket with the liquid suspending the suit inside of it. The liquid thickened and darkened, mixing the blue of the suit with the red of the liquid. I sat the bucket in front of the alien and loosened his restraint from his right arm. “In order for this to work, super freak, you gotta get me some of your seed,” I said, pointing to his enormously large but now flaccid dick and balls. “Pump it.” He knew what I was doing. He knew my plan. “No!” he said with some struggle, the power of the kryptonite above and below him. “I won't succumb.” I smiled. “Yes you will.” The body of the naked alien was mesmerizing. He was perfect in every way. I stepped forward and lowered the glowing rock closer to the alien, entrancing him, making it difficult for him to see where he was, what was going on. I looked down at his dick, his balls heaving behind it in panic. I reached out and lifted his dick with my hand. The weight was insane. The girth of it huge, barely able to fit my small hands around it. I gave it a tug. The alien hadn't masturbated in awhile, it didn't take long for it to jump to attention. “Umm...” he said, yelping in pleasure at my stroke. I jerked again and again, the man of steel trying to evade my strokes of pleasure but unable to hold back, the rock beckoning him to continue. “This is your power, superman,” I said, “and it's going to be mine.” “Please don't,” he begged, his eyes shut, further losing himself in his own pleasure. Lost under the hypnosis of his own erection and the red meteor above him, superman brushed aside my hand and took his dick for himself, jerking it, lost in his own pleasure of his massive cock. His balls pulled into his body as his dick grew further, his body preparing itself to ejaculate his alien seed. His body was perfect. I could feel the heat of the alien radiating off of him. I touched my chest. As I was to be the one to gain his powers, I needed to add my own seed, too. And I could feel my dick jerking in my shorts, eager to join in on the fun. I threw off my shirt and kicked off my shoes. Superman opened his eyes, still lost in his own jerking. But looked me over as my pathetic body revealed itself under my clothes. I got to my boxers before he could see my own small erection underneath my underwear. “What are you doing?” He asked between breaths. “We need both of our seed in here. For the first time I think I'm not embarrassed to expose my naked body. Because I won't own it for much longer,” I said, peeling down my boxers and getting naked across from the man of steel. The massive alien was hypnotically massaging his dick, under the influence my newfound rock of power. The thought of gaining his powers were too much for me, I started pumping with the fantasy of becoming this muscular and powerful behemoth. It only took me a minute to explode with excitement, my semen landing in the bucket below me. “OH YEAH!” I whispered as pleasure wracked through my body. “This is mine! You are mine, aren't you super freak?” I asked, more confident than ever before. Superman was not completely lost in his own hypnosis, “No, NO, NOOOOOO!” he shouted before his dick choked and started spewing his seed. It was massive, loads of cum falling out of his dick and into the bucket I placed below. “Umm, no, ARGH AWW!” he shouted in pleasure as the cum mixed with my own, the krypton liquid, and his suit below. The red liquid ate it up and started sparking streaks of power, red electric bolts moving across the bucket and the suit. I hoisted the rock back above the alien and let his consciousness come back to him. I walked to the sink and washed off my hands. The naked man let go of his dick, surrendering himself to what was to happen. “Please, don't, do, this,” he said between breaths. “You don't know what you're gaining. The red krypton is evil. It will make you do things that you never imagined before.” I paused, listening to the alien. “That's exactly what I want,” I said. “I didn't go through this trouble for nothing, I want my new wrath to be heard on the world, I want them to know who I am.” For the first time in my life I didn't mind being butt naked in front of someone else. This was my time, this was my turn to become that which the world would fear, that which would succumb to my powers. “If I decide to become a hero,” I said, “it will be after I've exhausted my need for vengeance.” The red liquid had now soaked into the suit. It looked the same as it always had, but it was now ready for it's new bearer. I unfurled it and examined it. It was at least twice my own size, but I didn't care, that wouldn't matter. The man of steel looked up at me with concern, defeat and begging in his eyes. “Please don't,” was all he could say. I pushed my left leg, then my right, into the suit, curled it up over my dick, which was finally shrinking again, and over my skinny butt. I rolled it over my thin treasure trail and up and over my stomach and chest, slipping my arms into the right and left sleeves. The suit was huge on me, but it felt welcoming, encouraging. I was feeling more and more confident with every move I made, fitting my fingers into the gloves, attaching the back up to my neck and unfurling the cape. I could feel the suit vibrating over my body. It was feeling me, determining me. Matching itself to me. “Oh wow,” I whispered, the pathetic alien looking at me as it tightened against my body. The latex started shrinking as it grabbed hold of my skin and shrunk down to reveal all my pathetic figure. Then the pain started. Hot, searing shocks of pain erupted from the suit, it felt like lava was being poured onto me and scraped off. “ARRGH!” I shouted. The suit started lifting my body. Levitating me up 5, 10 feet into the middle of the barn. “What the fuck!” I was able to shout, “god what is this?” the suit was wracking my body, causing it to twist and turn in searing and painful movements, my head felt hot and heavy as waves of energy started to encircle me. My chest started getting particularly hot as the suit's large, red “S” started to glow and spark with red, electric bolts. The suit forced me to face the naked alien below me as the sparks shot out of the S and onto the alien. Searing him with the same pain I was feeling. “ARGH NOO!” he shouted as it burned off his ropes and pulled the muscular behemoth toward me. “My powers, NO!” he shouted again as the red bolts of electricity pulled the alien, lifting him off the ground and encircling him. As he slowly flew toward me the bolts literally drained him of his muscle and drew them upward in waves of immortal energy toward the suit and into my body. Immediately I went from pain and confusion and pleasure and confidence. “Oh god,” I said, “Oh yes, YES YEEESSS!” I shouted as I felt the immortal powers of the alien burrowed into me through his suit. “FUCK YEAH!” I shouted again as my chest twisted and turned before spasming pounds of muscle underneath the suit. My pecs grew outward into thick, tight slabs of meat, followed by my abs quickly rumbling and forming a deep 8 pack with a defined and sharp adonis belt, pushing my suit back outward, expanding it against my ever-increasing body. I reached down to feel the washboard, every contour tightening against the suit. My legs blew outward with thick, steel quads stronger than those losers on the football team. My knees knocked and my shins expanded, before pushing outward, stretching my legs as they gained length and muscle. The powers reached upward to my shoulders doubling them in size before extending out toward my biceps and hands, growing them to match the size of the once-powerful alien's stature. I could feel my legs elongating as my shoulders doubled up toward my neck, now thickening. The masculine overdrive of the superhero powered new masculine hairlines across my face and down my chest, building a physique of a powerful alien-god. I looked upward to the former man of steel, a look of fear and pleading on his face as he reached his skinny, disintegrating arm toward me, begging me to stop, quickly losing all of his stature and stamina. He levitated closer and closer to me until we were only a foot apart, “Don't do this!” he begged underneath my power of theft removing everything he knew before. “You can still stop this!” he said, the freak becoming smaller and skinnier and more pathetic than ever before, his hair receding, his muscle mass disappearing, his features fading. “You're mine, superman! I am now the new Superman! The most powerful being in the world!” I shouted, feeling my ass lock in and push a hard and defined bubble butt outward. As the man of steel dried and withered into nothing but the red electric bolts engulfing him, the last of his body literally pushed itself into me like a ghost, and I felt my immortal seed grow inside my package, my semen realigning itself to the pure power of the Kryptonians, growing with aggression as is pushed hard against my suit, my dick soon following with intense girth and power. The man of steel was gone. I was now Superman. The red powers engulfed me. “YESSS! YEAAHHHHHHH!” I shouted, “my POWERS!” as I gained the knowledge of the Kryptonians, the immortality, the ability to fly, the ability to morph and transform, I was becoming more than superman. I was becoming a superbeing of all power. “GAARRR!” I shouted as my eyes turned red. Erupting a stream of power onto the roof of the barn, burning the fortress that Superman had set over his lair. I could feel the powers coursing through me as they zapped into my body. I flew upward at the speed of light and into the upper atmosphere, feeling the burn of powers course through me. “This is who I am!” I shouted, my deep, defined voice rattling through the skies. “I am the power of the Kryptons!” I could feel Superman's powers coursing through me. I could feel my body relishing in what I had gained. I could feel the knowledge of what I could do, and the innate, begging need for me to exact some evil vengeance. The red of the kryptonite filled me with the vengeance I sought, and I intended to use it. I had been bullied too long, pushed around, ignored by those who deserved me the ultimate respect. Now they were going to get it. I willed my suit away as I floated in the skies and looked at my bare, immaculate chest. I turned to see my toned bubble ass, exposed with intense muscle, and I flexed my legs and arms to test their sinew and power. Stretching, I pushed my hands down to my dick just as Superman had done earlier and tugged on its power. My body rattled with intense pleasure. “Oh yeah, this is going to be fun,” I said, willing the suit back onto me and flying through the sky. “The football bullies are mine!”

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.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2-4 Chapter 5-6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 CHAPTER 9 I laid in the complete darkness of my room, naked and on top of my sheets, letting the fan blow cool air on my oversized, overheated body. I'd finished the day's fourth workout, followed it up with my eighth meal, and promptly collapsed on my bed near midnight, mind and body exhausted. Sweat still bled from my pores and the fan's wind was a welcome relief. I could feel the aches and pains of my broken body fade as it unnaturally repaired itself, growing larger and stronger. My gut, once bulging with food, slowly returned to the deep washboard sheet I still couldn't believe was mine. I could bury a finger between each ab block and make it disappear. I felt my skin tighten over the expanding body beneath it as I, not for the first time, ran my fingers from my thigh, up my abdomen, and across my chest, relishing the god-like body running under them. It had been ten days since I made the deal with Lewis, four until we agreed he could take the second canister. He'd tried to cut the deal to a week but I convinced him to hold course. Still, I made every day count and worked out like the obsessed man I was. I don't know how much weight I'd gained, I'd maxed out the scales weeks ago, but I knew it was a lot. What was I now? 400 pounds? More? I hadn't a clue. But, like Lewis, I looked far smaller: perhaps 6'3 240. But that loaded mousetrap feeling had only intensified. My 400+ pound body didn't want to be crammed in a 240 pound frame. It wanted to escape. It was a like a muscle that I couldn't flex but was dying to. It was both agonizingly frustrating and erotically exhilarating. I drifted in and out of sleep in the darkness, mind was exhausted but my body full of raw vigor. Fuck me. The sultry whisper made me stir. I smiled in the darkness, thinking I was having a dream. Then I felt fingers gently tickle the bare skin of my chest, sending goosebumps down my naked body. My eyes opened in vain. My room, as always, was pitch black. I really need to get a nightlight, I thought still half asleep. Then those ghostly fingers found my dick and a second later I felt something wet and smooth make its way up my suddenly swelling shaft. It was someone’s tongue. What the fuck?! I jolted up in confused panic, but a gentle ssssshhhhhh calmed my nerves and an equally gentle hand calmed my body with a slight push against my chest. The tongue became a mouth and I felt it wrap itself around me and skillfully thrust down and up, down and up, down and up. Its tongue pressed firmly against the underside of my shaft. I fell back with a moan. The hand that caressed my chest suddenly became two. They pressed down on my granite abs as I felt a weight being added to the bed. Whoever was in my room was now climbing on the bed with me. I didn’t care who it was, I just didn’t want that mouth to stop. My dick involuntarily flexed and swelled to a thickness I still wasn’t used to. Those hands found their way to my arms, still gorged and swollen from the workout. They squeezed hard as I felt the lips around my growing dick stretch wide. The tongue pressed harder and I spasmed in delight. I reached down to caress the face of this sexual wunderkind, but those hands rediscovered their composure and pushed mine away. The invader was not interested in my caress. The hands left my arm and moved down and down, down my lats and over the thick wall of my abs. I felt my nipples grow erect as those hands reached under my ass and pulled me closer to those straining lips. My dick was shoved into the back recesses of the intruder's throat but those lips barely made it halfway down my giant shaft. I squeezed my glutes together, sending a surge of energy though my body. My dick swelled even more and I heard a stifled moan from the intruder and suddenly my dick was released just as I was about to climax. I moaned but those hands masterfully grabbed my egg sized balls and gave them a gentle squeeze. My back arched and I rode the edge of orgasm as the weight on the bed shifted. The head of my dick was greeted by something warm and inviting. It just touched the tip at first then slowly and rhythmically fell over the head where it rolled me with that gentle rhythm. It slid against me, hugging tightly. I heard another moan, I didn’t know if it was mine or the invader's but then the hug started sliding down my dick, squeezing with its walls. Those hands returned and resumed the gentle caress until most of my dick was covered in that warm and strong embrace. Then I felt air brush my ear as a voice whispered. “Now,” it said. “Fuck me.” I squeezed my ass, arched my back, and pulled my dick back before rolling it back in, gently at first but with increasing speed and strength. The intruder’s moan became a surprised gasp and came almost immediately, lubing my dick and letting it slide through the tightness with and increased level of ease and power. Those hands grabbed me tight and I felt them try to dent the armor of my arms with all their strength as the climax intensified but they remained hard and unmarked. I flexed my biceps under those hands, letting them grow and swell, spreading those hands out. “Oh god oh god” the voice whispered, almost squealing. The intruder came again and so did I. Our bodies grew taught and hard, sweat creating a sheen across us both. I reached up now, my hands cupping the small of a back and I could feel the muscles underneath contract as our bodies grew ever closer. Breasts pressed against my chest and I felt a taught stomach brush against the boulders of mine as the body on top of me rose up and down. We used our hands as eyes and we liked what we saw. The voice muffled a scream of pure pleasure as it came yet again. Then I tilted my head up to the invisible face I knew was there and felt hair brush against my face. I found what I guessed was an ear. “My turn,” I said. With no warning, I held the body tighter to me and lifted it up. I was on my feet in less than a second. The body I carried was tall and hard but I held it effortlessly. Strong legs wrapped themselves around my waist and rested their ankles on the shelf of my glutes. They squeezed hard against my core but I barely noticed. I found a wall in the darkness and pressed the intruder against it and pressed my own body against the intruder’s. My dick found home again and those hands grabbed my swollen lats as if they were handle bars. They pushed and pulled on me and I let my dick do their bidding, finding the spots that made them squeeze tighter and not stopping until the moans became gasps and those hands practically tore at my sides. My muscles flexed harder and harder and I felt that now familiar exhilarating burn form in the pit of my stomach then grow outward in a radiant heat that was soon dancing across my entire body. Sweat beaded and fell across my mountainous back. The veins on my body bulged and I heard a gasp as I started to grow elsewhere too. I came immediately and the intruder’s head slammed back against the wall in sheer ecstasy as my dick grew harder and larger inside. The walls that held it grew tighter. My arms exploded in raw power and those hands were soon pinched from my lats. They moved to my gorged pumpkin shoulders and they pulled me close. I felt lips press firmly against mine and we kissed in raw passion as we both kept coming. The arms and legs wrapped around me squeezed until they shook with exhausted orgasm. The hands found a hold in the writhing crevices of my back. The moan was guttural and raw and then the limbs when limp and nearly fell away. I took the body’s weight and held it, gently sliding my still erect dick out and letting the intruder’s feet touch the ground. We held each other for a moment, both of us gasping desperately for breath. Our arms held each other tight, the intruder nearly swallowed in my mass. Then the hands pushed me gently away and I felt them touch my dick, exploring it in the darkness. I could tell by the touch it was a caress of awe and wonder. I moved back towards the naked body in front of me, wanting to go again. But those hands pushed against my sweat covered abs. The fingers curled into claws and scratched down my iron trunk. A breath released in ragged shudders. The intruder wanted more too. “Can’t,” the voice croaked. I felt a forehead rest, exhausted, on my chest and the voice gave a breathless “holy shit” before pulling back. Bare footsteps made their way to my front door. It opened and a dull, negligible light of the hallway beyond made its way through the door. To our night trained eyes it was practically sunlight but the intruder’s form was only blackness against the light behind it, silhouetting its naked body. It looked back with its shadowed face at me. My form, flooded in the grey light, must have looked like the marble statue of an ancient god. The intruder turned and closed the door behind it, leaving me alone in the darkness. I exhaled a breath I hadn't known I was holding and made my way back to the bed. It groaned under my inhuman mass and I was impressed it held up through what we’d just put it through. This wasn't the first time I'd been laid in the last couple months (my dick needed to be used at least a half dozen times a day and it was always nice when someone else took care of it). This was the first time some had snuck into the room, though. I smiled in the darkness and let the sweat evaporate off my body under the fan’s gentle breeze as I slowly drifted towards sleep. There was a knock at the door. So you want some more huh? I thought as I got out of bed. Dressed only by the air I walked to the door from memory opened it expectantly, hoping the visitor from earlier was back for another round. I was instead greeted by Lewis's hulking form. Still dressed in his laughably tight military uniform, his eyes were wide and he started speaking before I had the door all the way open. "Sir, we have a problem," he said, his voice shaking and breathless. He was visibly scared and must have raced here from his own dorm. "What is it?" I asked. “I don’t know what to do,” Lewis answered, wild eyes searching everywhere at once. Forgetting how naked I was, I reached a hand out and put it gently on his shoulder. “Lewis, calm down. Everything will be ok. Just tell me what went wrong.” Lewis took a few deep breaths and eventually found his words. "It's Whitaker," Lewis said finally. "He's...he's taken the serum."

Part 1: Why Not Try It? Bzzz bzzz. Evan heard his phone vibrations from across the room as he fixed himself a sandwich. He had been waiting for a text back from his friend Brandon. Evan walked over and picked up the phone, swiping it unlocked and deftly typing a response. “I’m home from college for the weekend. Wanna hang out?” Branson responded faster now. “Yeah bro! I’d been hoping you’d come home some weekend soon. Wanted to catch up with you.” Evan remembered when he was home last year for a few days and he and Brandon had met up with a couple of girls their age, partying with them and eventually fooling around with them in Brandon’s basement. “Yeah? You wanna do a repeat of last November?” Brandon was Evan’s best friend from hometown; they’d done everything together, from homework to baseball, to hooking up with girls. Even though Evan was going to a university about 3 hours away, and Brandon was still at home at the smaller local college, the two still kept in good contact with each other. It took a few minutes to Brandon to reply, and Evan was a little worried he offended his buddy. Maybe he was weirded out by getting a blowjob in the same room as his lifelong friend? Still, they didn’t watch each other or anything. As far as Evan knew, they were both straight as an arrow. ”nah” the gray speech bubble finally read. “Wanna come work out with me? We can go to my campus gym.” ”works for me” Evan quickly typed out. “Be over in 10 to pick you up.” Evan was excited at the chance to get a workout in with Brandon. The two guys were roughly around the same build and physique which made them perfect workout partners for each other; around 160 lbs, 6’ tall, they normally benched around 140, taking turns spotting each other while shooting the shit. This was the first time working out at Brandon’s college, Evan thought, as he hopped into his parent’s Mazda and began driving towards Brandon’s house. Pulling up to the curb some 5 minutes later, Evan looked down to text Brandon to come outside. He saw the guy on Brandon’s front yard start walking towards his car, but that must have been Brandon’s uncle or something. That guy was nearly 200 pounds and had much thicker chest, arms, and legs than Brandon. Still, the guy walked closer until he reached the passenger side door and knocked on the window. Evan could see him closer now and recognized him instantly. ”B?! Is that you??” He rolled down the window and unlocked the car. ”Hey Ev,” replies Brandon, his voice no different than Evan remembered it. Brandon opened the door and hopped in. He was wearing a loose cutoff shirt and short mid thigh running shorts, which his thighs were nearly too thick for. ”Good to see ya man,” Evan said. Not wanting to waste any of their workout time, he started driving toward the gym. “You look...” ”Huge??” laughed Brandon. “Yeah, I haven’t seen you since last June, right? I’ve been putting in crazy time at the gym. What do you think?” Brendan flexed a little as he directed Evan’s route. “Yeah, I mean you look crazy!” Evan exclaimed. “I’ve made a couple big lifestyle changes,” Brandon said. “I’ll tell ya about it when we get there.” He grabbed Evan’s upper thigh playfully. “If you can keep my secret!” Evan stayed silent while Brandon let go and laughed. “I’m kidding man. Nothing more than good old fashioned hard work and nutritional changes! Oh, you can park here.” They arrived at a brown brick building with the sign “Eastern Student Fitness” our front. There were no other cars around and no sign of anyone else on campus. ”Where is everyone?” asked Evan as they walked toward the entrance. ”Fall break. But since I work here, I’ve got a key. And since they’re all gone, we’ve got the place to ourselves.” He flipped through the keys on his maroon lanyard, finally selecting a silver one and turning the lock open. “After you...” The motion sensor lights flicked on as the two guys entered the linoleum hallway. “Wanna hit the weights?” Brandon asked, sort of skipping down the hallway. ”Hellll yeah man, show me what you can now!” called Evan. They ended up at the bench press where Brandon had racked up 2 plates on each side of the bar. Before Evan could even get in position to spot him, Brandon was busting out reps, racking the bar after completing his 10th with ease. Evan’s eyes went wide. “Ok, well I usually do about 5x5 of 135...” he said sort of meekly, removing a plate from his side of the bar. ”No problem bro!” Brandon hopped behind the bar to spot his friend. Evan felt motivated by Brandon’s new swagger, and felt his muscles surging a little as he pressed the reps out. This continued for a while across the deserted weight room, with Brandon pounding out an impressive set while Evan removes weight and followed suit. The two guys were starting to get a little hot, and since no one else was around, they decided to take their shirts off. Evan had some pec definition and a modest 4 pack, with a fledgling few strands of chest hair. Despite being 20 now, he had never been able to grow any. Meanwhile Brandon had pecs nearly twice the size of Evan’s, covered in a light dusting of blonde hair that was shaved down to a stubble. Evan eyed Brandon up and down, noticing both his huge upper body, but stopping to notice Brandon’s butt tightly stretching his black nylon shorts in the back. ”You must be hitting those squats hard too eh man?” laughed Evan. ”Hah, yeah dude,” said Brandon, adjusting his shorts a little to show the white and black striped waistband of his underwear sticking out slightly. “Let’s do it.” Brandon loaded up around 250 lbs as a warmup weight and squatted it down. Evan watched him intently, especially his friend’s butt. I mean damn... it was incredible the way Brandon had changed in the last 5 short months. Evan peeked a small strip of skin and the crack of Brandon’s ass between the bottom of his waistband and the top of his shorts as Brandon squatted down and back up again. “Bro, you wearing a jock or something?” teased Evan. ”Oh shit, sorry man, didn’t mean for you to have to see that.” ”Its alright B, we’re like brothers after all. I’m impressed with how far you’ve come.” ”Dude it could totally be you too. I just got lucky with the way my body kept growing after high school.” ”No way man, you put in good work. You must be getting tons of chicks now!” ”Eh,” said Brandon. “Not really. But to be honest with you, I’m happy that way. Hey, you wanna shower here? It’s just us two and we really fuckin’ stink.” ”Sure man,” said Evan, as Brandon motioned toward the locker room and followed him out of the weight room. Evan pushed the swinging heavy door to the locker room open and walked down one of the far aisles of orange lockers. He raised his voice to talk to Brandon, assuming he’d take the next row over. After all, why change together if they could have privacy, right? “So what kind of diet’ve you been eating?” he called, looking down to untie his sneakers. Brandon was basically right behind him as he answered. “Oh you know, a ton of protein,” he calmly replied, also untying his shoes. ”Fuck!” cried Evan, startled. “I didn’t expect you to come down the same row as me dude.” ”Eh what’s the big deal bro? Nothing you haven’t seen before!” Brandon laughed. He was naked now except for his white jockstrap. His cock was starting to stir a little, the pump from the gym, his shirtless friend, and the musky smell turning him on. Evan turned around and saw Brandon’s stiffening bulge. “The fuck, man?” He was now naked himself, and covered his own crotch with his hands. “Calm that thing down dude, I’m not your chick Jenny.” ”Nah Jenny’s been gone for a while,” Brandon said. “Actually I’ve been hanging out with ‘Dave’ these days.” That sent Evan the message. “Dave? Who’s Dave? You’re fucking gay?! After all we went through, I can’t believe it. I mean I still love you man, in a friend way, but damn, how could you not tell me!” Evan felt betrayed. And scared at Brandon’s out of character behavior, and his openness. But most importantly, Evan was scared of his own cock stiffening underneath his cupped hands. ”Its a long story,” Brandon replied. “But I’ll tell you. And it has to do with this-“ he flexed his left bicep- “and this-“ he cupped his rock hard boner bulge through the fabric of his jock with his other hand. “But hey man,” he started to say, as Evan couldn’t look away from his body and moved his own left hand away from his crotch to balance himself on the wooden bench as he stepped closer to his friend. ”I can tell-“ as Evan stepped within a foot of Brandon now, sweating and smelling the manly musk of the locker room and slowly moving his right hand away from his cock, ready to show Brandon in all its 6-inch erect glory, as Brandon’s bulge pulsed and bounced in its jockstrappy-prison, the tip of it gently poking out at the top right of the pouch. ”You’re curious.” Brandon concluded as Evan took another step closer, his cock now gently poking Brandon in the thigh as he rested his hands on the big man’s chest, gently feeling them up. Brendan tilted his head right and down to whisper in Evan’s ear as his right arm wrapped around Evan in a tight embrace, his left reaching town towards his crotch, pushing his jockstrap pouch to the side, freeing his 10-some inch beast to press up fully against Evan. The warmth of Brandon’s meat pressed against his crotch and leg turned Evan on even more, as his cock bounced and stiffened even further. “Why not try it,” whispered Brandon as his left arm grasped both their cocks and rubbed them together gently, his right arm now holding the back of Evan’s head and pushing him down slightly, as, unknowingly to the pair of men, Brandon’s body pumped out gallon after gallon of invisible pheromones of growth and seduction. To be continued next time in: Part 2: One of Us Now

@muscleaddictYeah, like you said Mate “extremely short chapter “ hahaha. I like the set up and the cliffhanger a lot. I can’t wait to read the next chapter. Since I’ve never been to Glasgow, I have no idea where Wood is taking Luke.

I'm glad that you came back to finish it! I wanted to show that it wasn't necessarily a bad thing to have/use the serum, but that it made Mark feel like he could lose control. I also feel like he would still remember how to make it, no matter how hard he tries to convince himself he forgot it. I would say that by the time they wear out the serum (and each other) Mark is at about a halfway stage between where he was before hooking up with Danny and after. Cris would be slightly shorter than Mark but would have a bulkier, more defined build. And they'd keep working out together... And working each other out, besides.

Next chapter and it's another pretty lengthy one. Look out for another AJ & Noah Easter egg. Oh and @brawnygods - your comments inspired me to add a little extra something into this one! Eleven The first guy I was ever really sexually attracted to was a bodybuilder called Brad McCarthy. Brad was one of the top pro bodybuilders from the nineties, often placing in the top ten of the Mr Olympia with the other well known monsters from that era. I’d been familiar with his name for a while before I actually saw what he looked like. Then one day an Instagram account I followed, who specialised in old school bodybuilders, posted a video of Brad posing in front of a white screen. I was instantly mesmerised by this huge, beautiful muscle monster flexing on my phone screen. It’s no exaggeration when I say that Brad McCarthy was nothing short of God-like. I can not think of a single bodybuilder competing in the IFBB today who even comes close to being as handsome as Brad was at his peak. With his strong jawline, chiseled All American features, smouldering eyes and gorgeous, heart melting smile, if he hadn’t decided to dedicate his life to being a roided out muscle freak, Brad could have probably had a successful career as a top Hollywood actor. And as for his body. Jesus. The guy looked like a fucking cartoon. He had that bubble look where his muscles really popped, like balloons of thick, juicy muscle bulging off his bones. His pecs were obscene, his biceps were insane and his abs were flat out gorgeous. And then there were Brad’s quads. Holy fuck those quads. Thickness for days and beautiful sweeps, if there’s one body part that Brad McCarthy was famous for it was his freaky, out of this world wheels. He was a mass monster for sure, but he wasn’t like one of the grotesque guys with roid guts and thick waists that are so common today. There was a “classic” look to Brad’s shape and physique. He really was like the quintessential nineties bodybuilder. He was also one of those guys that pretty much every gay muscle worshipper goes nuts for. Including (as it turns out) me. No video had ever had an effect on me like the first one I watched of Brad McCarthy. I was completely transfixed by the beautiful muscle freak on my phone screen as he tensed his crazily thick quads, revealing alien-like lines and conditioning I could only dream of having myself one day. I watched as he blew up his gloriously round, granite hard biceps and crunched his perfectly shaped, six pack abs, all the time displaying a handsome as shit grin and exuding the power and cockiness of a man who knew exactly what kind of effect his muscles had on others. And as Brad McCarthy looked square into the camera and scrunched up his face as the glistening, oil soaked balloons of muscle on his upper body bulged and squeezed into a most muscular pose, I blew the most intense fucking load into my boxer shorts. It was like a revelation. Muscle turned me on. Guys turned on. Thanks to muscle monster Brad McCarthy and his beautifully thick pecs and freaky wheels, I was finally able to accept something which I’d known for a while, but had chosen to ignore. I was gay. My best friend, Emily, was the first person I told, and the only person who knew about my sexuality for a good few years. There was no one else at school I felt close enough to to tell, I didn’t really know how my parents would take the news and I didn’t dare tell any of the bodybuilding lads at the gym. Emily came out to me shortly afterwards. I think in the back of my head I already knew she was gay, as she did with me. Maybe that’s why we were drawn to each other in the first place? Maybe we both sensed that the other was different? That we had this unspoken thing in common? It’s fair to say that I was a little naive when we took our first visit to a gay pub. No one really warned me how much attention a good looking, seventeen year old competitive bodybuilder, who looked considerably older thanks to his abnormally muscular physique, would receive in such a place. But then, who would have? Emily was the only gay person I knew at that point. I went home with a guy called Dale that first night we went out. He was no bodybuilder but the guy had one hell of a body on him. Over six foot in height and built like a brick shithouse with thick arms on show under the sleeves of his tight fitted t-shirt. It sounds naive to think about it now, but I was kind of surprised that gay guys that muscular actually existed. He was exceptionally fucking handsome too. Olive skin, almost model-like looks. He was a good few years older than me, probably in his late twenties, so I may have told a little white lie when he asked me how old I was. He seemed nice enough, if a little arrogant, which was something Emily picked up on too. She didn’t seem to like him much in general. “I don’t get good vibes!” were her exact words. I thought at the time that she maybe just being overly protective of me. Still, I didn’t really care what my best friend thought at that moment. I was in my first ever gay pub in London and the hottest guy in the room wanted to take me back to his. So I left with Dale and it was exciting and new and the sex was pretty good, if a tiny bit awkward at times, with it being my first experience. And the next day and the ones that followed, he seemed really keen to see me again. In fact, it’s fair to say he was a little full on. I got constant phone calls and texts from him. Telling me how much of a good time he'd had. Telling me how sexy he thought I was. How he wanted to introduce me to all these muscle guys he knew. Suggesting we do all sorts of stuff together. It was all a bit much. I mean, he didn’t even really know me that well. I very much got the feeling he wouldn’t have been half as keen on me if I hadn’t been a competitive bodybuilder. And that pattern kind of continued. Every time me and Emily went on the gay scene I’d get shit loads of attention. I’d pull someone in the club, usually a hot muscle guy, though sometimes I went with slimmer, more regular sized guys too (I found the size difference between me and those guys was actually really fun, not to mention pretty fucking horny). But the next day, they’d always be really keen to see me again. Ugh. I mean, yeah, some of the guys seemed really nice, and some of them I did meet up with again, but I think that I wanted to like them more than I actually did. And I think I only agreed to see most of them again because I felt like that’s what I should do. That that was the normal thing to do. And as Emily kept saying, maybe I’d grow to like them after the second or third time I saw them. But I never did. None of those guys ever really excited me. None of them ever seemed to get me. And none of them ever gave me those butterflies that people sometimes talk about. Not even James Newman, the short, jacked, gay Welsh bodybuilder I had unspeakably hot sex with after my last bodybuilding show in the summer. I guess I’ve sort of been waiting for all of that to happen. For someone to give me those butterflies. To meet that person who I think about constantly like Emily has multiple fucking times since we both came out to each other. I guess, to just meet someone who I like. I mean, really, really like. Surely that person can’t be Luke? And yet, as I lie here now in bed to the sound of the shower running in the bathroom as he’s getting ready for his morning A History of Bodybuilding lecture, why can I not think of anything else I want to do more than open that bathroom door, climb into the shower, grab my much smaller and very geeky roommate who barely even has pecs and spends his time watching kids cartoons, pin him up the wall and kiss him like I’ve never fucking kissed anyone before? Okay maybe this is just a phase? Maybe it will pass and I’ll realise that no, I don’t actually want to kiss Luke. That lying here thinking about what it would be like to cuddled up to him in bed, his body curled into mine, my pecs and abs sinking into his back and my huge arms wrapped around his much smaller body as I bury my face into his neck, his scent engulfing me, while all the time he’s wearing nothing but his bright yellow Harry Potter boxers, means absolutely nothing? Oh God. What the fuck is wrong with me? I mean, I guess when I think about it, it’s not all that surprising that I’ve started to have feelings for Luke. We have been spending a lot of time together. And he’s really fucking sweet. And he really makes me laugh. And, despite all his geeky affiliations, Luke’s actually pretty cool. I like how he doesn’t seem to apologise for who he is. He’s just himself. How well he handles being the smallest guy here on campus. There’s a quiet confidence there which is pretty fucking sexy. And I really respect how he just opened up to me about his dad when we didn’t really know each other. And how well he handled it when I was being a complete dick to him when he first transferred here (which I feel really bad about now). And there’s this really charming innocence about him. I kind of loved how nervous he was about buying his trunks. And I love his eagerness for anything bodybuilding related. The way his face lights up when I suggest he’ll be a monster soon. And the way he talks about Tommy Foster’s shredded abs. Which is also, incidentally, pretty fucking sexy. And, of course, there’s the fact that he’s also pretty cute. Okay, he’s really fucking cute. With his lovely blue eyes and cute grin and hot little abs. And not to mention that beefy arse of his which blows out the back of his obscenely shiny posing trunks, which I’ve thought about so many times over the last few weeks it’s probably not healthy. And which, I’m thinking about again right fucking now and getting a full on boner under my duvet. GRRRR! And then here’s the fact that I highly suspect Luke is gay. I mean, that has to be what he was referring to that night we went to the SU bar, right? “Maybe I’m different too.” The thing is, now that thought is in my head, I’m struggling to actually imagine that Luke is straight. This might sound weird but I can’t really picture him with a girl. It just wouldn’t look right. I can see him with a guy though. A much bigger guy. Say, a two hundred and thirty pounds, handsome as shit bodybuilder with twenty three pairs of posing trunks and a cheeky Instagram persona? I guess there’s always the chance that my mind is just going into overdrive because I think I’ve actually managed to find another student here at Montgomery University who might be gay? Maybe if there were tons of gay guys here, or even just a few more, I wouldn’t be having these thoughts about Luke? He comes out of the shower and I don’t flinch or move. I stay still in bed with my eyes closed, pretending I’m asleep. I can hear him pottering about. He’s so gentle and quiet. Like a five foot, ten inches tall mouse in specs. With hot little abs and the cutest fucking arse! I can tell he’s being extra quiet just for me. That he’s trying his best not to wake me up. Which is just, sigh, SO fucking sweet. I wonder what t-shirt he’s putting on for today. I’m gonna guess my favourite - the white Marvel one with all the superheroes on it. And now I’m wondering what boxers he’s wearing. He’s got these green and blue striped ones that are super duper cute. I bet he’s wearing his light blue skinny jeans. The ones he wears the most which his little calf muscles look super sexy in. Along with another certain part of his anatomy. I hear Luke go back into the bathroom. And then he comes out and everything is suddenly quiet and FUCK - I don’t know for certain, but I swear he’s standing near my bed. And I get the feeling that he’s just looking at me. Which sounds really creepy, but it doesn’t feel like that. It doesn’t feel like that at all. My heart starts beating faster. My stomach’s fluttering. And I feel this unexpected rush of excitement. Is Luke just standing there, watching me sleep? And then I hear him on his side of the room and I relax. And shortly after that he leaves the room for his lecture. Not long after and I’m still in bed, checking out Instagram on my phone. The side chest pose pic that Luke took the other day has gotten a shit load of comments and likes. It’s quickly become one of the most popular pics I’ve ever posted. I keep looking out for comments from the “how much to feel your bicep” guy who (according to Deano) I’ve been flirting with, but so far he hasn’t commented on this one. I’m sure Deano’s eagerly checking the comments too. Just for excuses to take the piss out of me. I’m sure homophobic Mike Hancox is probably looking as well so he can give me another lecture on why not to talk to “creepy little gay dudes” on Instagram. Ugh. Fuck off, Hancox. The pic I posted of Luke lifting up his abs with the “follow my buddie” caption has also been pretty popular too. He’s gained a ton more followers since I posted it and people are commenting and saying really nice things. Apart from one guy who posted, “THIS guy goes to Muscle University? Are they just letting anyone in now?” which made me SO fucking angry. I replied with, “Hey, dude. Your ex girlfriend just DM’d me. She said she wants you to check out this website.” And then I posted a link to a penis enlargement surgery page. Thinking about that comment now is pissing me off again. How dare some random dick be mean to Luke? I’m praying that he hasn’t seen it. I think about him reading it and getting upset and my stomach sharply twists. I go to Luke’s Instagram and look at the picture I took of him flexing his biceps in the SU bar last weekend and I smile and feel all fuzzy. That was a good night. It felt like our friendship went to another level. Or maybe that was the night we actually started to become friends. Who knows? I have a flash of inspiration. I’m not gonna go the gym until this afternoon, so I have some time to kill. I get my sketchbook out and, with Luke’s front double bicep pic, complete with cute, sheepish grin, on my phone, I start to compose a new sketch. And it’s funny, because I’m usually drawing huge, shredded freaks in tiny posers, but drawing Luke, I’m struggling to remember the last time I enjoy doing an illustration so much. Half way through the sketch, I decide that I’m going to ask Luke to go the gym with me again today. The thought of which makes my insides go fucking crazy. I know Johnny suggested taking him once a week, but fuck it. This will look good on me if I take him twice. Mostly though, I just really wanna go the gym with Luke again. I can’t stop thinking about what happened in our dorm room after the last time. Flexing for Luke with my top off. Hitting a side chest while I was insanely pumped while he took my picture for Instagram. The effect my muscles seems to have on Luke. That look of awe on his face. The atmosphere in the room as it was happening. And that moment when we were sitting on my bed when we were just looking at each other and all I wanted to do was lean over and kiss him. I couldn’t sleep that night. I was just lying awake for hours thinking about the day. Thinking about Luke. I even got my phone out and was checking out his Instagram profile under my duvet. Just lying there in the middle of the night looking at his fucking pictures as he lay asleep in his bed on the other side of the room. I get changed for the gym, thinking about how I’m going to ask Luke to go with me, which actually makes me feel oddly fucking nervous. But Luke's lecture finished a while ago and I’m getting a little angsty that he’s already gone by himself. I pick up my phone and think about texting him. But what would I text? “Hey Luke, where are you? Fancy going to the gym?” I bite my nails anxiously. Wait. What the FUCK am I doing? Jesus Christ. Fretting about texting a boy I‘ve only known for a few weeks. Hanging around my room on the off chance that he’ll want to come to the gym with me when there’s a very good chance that he’s there already. Fuck this. I grab my backpack and head towards the door and then my stomach flips because it’s opening, and now Luke is suddenly in front of me wearing a white Dom and Cole In The Land of Ug t-shirt. Which I kinda love so fucking much. “Hey!” he says, stopping in his tracks. “Alright!” I say, a little nervously. “Cool t-shirt!” Luke looks down and then his mouth curls into a cute grin and my chest flutters. “Just off to the gym!” I tell him. Luke nods. I don’t know why, but things feel really awkward. Which is crazy. Because it’s Luke. My roommate, Luke, who I see and talk to every fucking day. “See you in a bit then!” he says, squeezing the handle of his backpack. Is he nervous standing so close to me? I kind of get the impression that he is. I nod and he walks past me into the room. I step towards the door thinking, should I? Fuck it. “Unless you wanna come?” I say, turning around. My stomach tightly clenches. Did I ask him a little too eagerly? I feel like I did. Fuck! “Oh!” Luke says, looking surprised. “Ummm … I’ve just been!” And now he looks deflated. And seeing how disappointed he looks, my chest expands and I find myself wanting to smile. It also seems to give me an unexpected surge of confidence. “Shame! I wanted to take the piss out of your ridiculously light weights again!” I tease. Luke smirks and rolls his eyes. And I leave, practically beaming all the way to the gym. My stomach’s doing something weird. Butterflies. Maybe these are butterflies? When I get back to the room after the gym, Luke’s sitting on his bed in front of his laptop. He says hey. He’s got this big, excited grin on his face. I look at him suspiciously. “What’s up with you?” “Guess what I’ve found?” he asks, biting his lip. I let out a big, exaggerated gasp. “The Gryffindor common room!” “That would be of no use to me. I’m a Hufflepuff!” he says proudly. “I literally have no idea what you just said!” I say. Even though I do. Even though I’ve seen most of the Harry Potter films and actually think they’re pretty cool. I dump my backpack near my bed and turn around. Luke’s not responding. He’s just sitting there biting his lip and smiling into his laptop, looking pretty fucking pleased with himself. “Luke, the suspense is fucking killing me!” I say it sarcastically, but in actual fact, I’m really fucking curious to know what Luke has apparently found. “It’s on my laptop!” Luke says, eyeballing his MacBook with this teasing grin. I groan and roll my eyes, and then my stomach flips as I approach Luke’s bed. I’m trying so hard not to smile. Not to show how much I want to sit next to him on his bed. I have a feeling I’m not doing a good enough job as I’d like. I plonk down next to him, giving him a suspicious look. He’s still biting his lip, clearly excited. I swear his cheeks have flushed a little too. He plays with his laptop then turns it to face me and something starts playing. “Oh my God!” I exclaim, when I realise what it is. “JOHNNY BRAVO!” Luke’s nodding. It’s so fucking cute how excited he looks. “I found it on some dodgy streaming site!” “So cool!” I say as the opening credits plays. I feel a wave of nostalgia. It’s been so long since I watched this cartoon. “Check the pecs!” I say, imitating Johnny. Luke does his goofy little giggle. “Oh, sorry!” Luke mumbles. I’m confused but then he reaches for one of his pillows and my heart flutters when he hands it to me and our eyes meet and his mouth curls into a sheepish grin. I prop the pillow under my big chest and relax next to Luke. He grabs the other pillow and props it up behind his back. I literally can’t stop smiling as we lie on his bed watching one of my favourite childhood cartoons. “Hmmm. It’s kinda funny if you think about it!” I say. “What?” “Well I always wanted to be Johnny Bravo. And now I’m probably bigger than him.” I expect Luke to roll his eyes but he just gives me this cute, grin and hello dimples! “I’m definitely hotter than him, anyway!” I say. And then Luke does roll his eyes. Ha! We carry on watching it, laughing and giggling at various moments. Luke’s leaning against the wall, his legs flat out. I’m lying on my front with the pillow under my chest. He’s so close to me. I could so easily stretch out my arm and just gently tickle his tummy if I wanted to. I look at the image of Dom and Cole on Luke’s white t-shirt. “Think they do Johnny Bravo t-shirts?” I ask him, twisting my neck up to look up at him. Luke grins at me. “Yeah! They must do. Would you wear one?” he asks, with one eyebrow raised. He seems kind of excited at the prospect. I smile and shrug. “Probably! Although … maybe not in public!” Luke rolls his eyes but he’s still smiling down at me. “That. Was. Awesome!” I say as the episode finishes. Luke grins at me and we’re both a bit silent for a while. And then I feel this stab of disappointment, because I don’t know what’s next. I could quite happily stay here lying next to Luke on his bed. Probably for the rest of the evening, in fact. Luke reaches forward and plays with his laptop. He minimises the window and my stomach flips when I notice something on the screen. There’s another tab open in Luke’s Google Chrome window. And it has my name on it, followed by the start of my Instagram handle. WOODY (@woody_bodybuilder). For some reason, Luke was looking at my Instagram profile. He quickly clicks on the red dot in the corner of the window and it closes down and suddenly there’s this awkwardness between us. Fuck. I don’t look at Luke’s face. I just lie there, propped up by one of his pillows that smells like him. But my stomach’s going crazy. And I’m finding it really fucking hard not to smile. Because Luke was checking out my Instagram. “So … is there anything going on at the SU bar tonight?” Luke asks. There’s a slight hint of nerves in his voice. I look up at him and pull a face. “Doubt it!” But my chest is suddenly expanding. Because the last time me and Luke went to the Students’ Union bar he opened up to me in a way he hadn’t done before. About his dad. About how he could tell I liked attention. And he also insinuated that I was gay. And that he was gay too. Who knows what might happen if we go again? And then an idea pops into my head. Something I’ve done once before. Would Luke be up for it? Fuck. It’s pretty crazy. But right now, sitting next to Luke on his bed, his body so close to mine, I feel like I wanna go crazy. And I wanna go crazy with Luke. “You know the SU bar isn’t our only option for a night out?” I say to him, with a mysterious smirk, my heart starting to beat a little faster. “It’s not?!” he asks, looking perplexed. I shake my head and continue to act mysterious. “Luke Henderson. Do you trust me?” His stomach is still right there. I could just reach out and gently tickle his hard, tight tummy with my fingers through his white Dom and Cole t-shirt. “Is that a serious question?” he asks, with one eyebrow raised. “Yes! And that was the wrong answer. Luke Henderson. Do. You. Trust me?” I ask, glaring at him. He still looks confused, but he’s smirking too. I can tell he’s curious. Excited even. “Ummm. I … guess so?” he says, now giving me this cute grin. My tummy’s doing weird things again. Butterflies. These are definitely fucking butterflies. “Right then, Luke! Get your super tight, plain blue t-shirt on. I’m taking you on an adventure!”

Absolutely beautiful story! Thank you for the great work. -M

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.

oh damn. How did I miss this as well?? It's so good!

Epilogue When I got back to the room, James had made up Luke’s bed and was waiting for me to crawl into it. I got in and held James on top of me. I was used to being the little spoon, but with my new size, that was going to be unlikely. Once we were cozy under the blankets, James rolled over to look at me and said, “I want to show you something.” He pulled my phone out of his pajamas pocket, and pulled up a picture. “Remember this?” he asked. It was the picture of us in our bathrobes after I’d walked to the help desk with James trapped on my cock. “How can I forget? I think about this picture every time I walk down the stairs.” “The man in this picture is a muscle monster, right?” he asked leadingly. “Unquestionably,” I answered. “You have 85 pounds of muscle on this guy.” “He’s pathetic. Puny,” I said. “And five inches of cock,” James added. “My cock is a whole cock bigger than his. What a tiny dick he has.” James kissed my ear, glad I was pleased with the game. He put the phone on Luke’s desk, then rolled back over. I was ready to go to sleep, but James was obviously restless. “What’s wrong?” I asked him. James never had trouble sleeping. “I’m worried.” “About?” “Everything’s changing, and I don’t want it to.” “We can’t stop things from changing.” “I guess not, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.” “Is this about those internet comments? Because Dave said…” “That’s part of it, yeah, but it’s not just that. Everything is changing. I have no idea what’s going to happen next.” “Anything I can do to help?” “Walk me through tomorrow,” James said. His voice sounded dreamy; he was staring at the ceiling. “Okay. We get up. I’m going to wear what I wore to dinner because it’s the only thing I have big enough to fit me. We have breakfast from the cart as a foursome for the last time, and then go with Dave to the airport. Dave drives there. We bid him goodbye. Give him hugs. Tell him to break a leg and to write.” “I meant to get him a going away present,” James said, cursing himself. “He really likes goldfish. I meant to get him some goldfish for his new apartment.” “They wouldn’t survive the plane trip,” I said. “True. I guess I’ll have some delivered to him once he’s settled in LA.” James sighed. “What comes next after we say goodbye?” “Luke cries. We cry too, most likely,” I said. “I meant after that.” “Luke drives Dave’s car back, and we pack to go home for break. We have lunch with Luke, and if it takes us a long time to pack, dinner too. Luke’s staying on campus for the break—Charles’s orders—so we say goodbye to him once your car is loaded.” “I should’ve gotten him a present too,” James said. “Give him Dave’s goldfish,” I suggested. “Luke doesn’t like goldfish.” “Then their marriage is doomed,” I joked. Without rolling over, James slapped me playfully and asked, “What comes after we say goodbye to Luke?” “We cry again.” “After that,” James said, chuckling slightly. “Actually,” I said, “we might not cry when we say goodbye to Luke. We’re likely to see him again in January, especially if I decide to finish my degree on campus.” “That would be nice.” “Then, we find a way to squeeze me into your car. As soon as we’ve done that, for a while, it’s just you and just me. The two of us alone as we drive to my parents’ house for Christmas. They freak that I’ve gained another 70 pounds. Dad makes a ridiculous t-shirt; I tell him it’s funny even though it’s not. Mom makes me take a drug test; I pass it. We tell them I’ve maintained my 4.0 and gotten all these job offers. Mom forgets all her concerns. We go out for dinner to celebrate. Just drinks if it’s really late.” “And then?” James asked. “That’s the end of tomorrow.” “Then what comes after tomorrow?” “We have a lovely Christmas. We go to your place for New Year’s. Maybe even introduce your parents to my parents.” “I’d like that,” James said. “And sometime over break I decide if I’m finishing my degree on campus, or following Dave to LA, or something else.” “So, you really don’t know yet?” James asked. “No, I do not.” I said honestly. James sighed deeply and admitted, “Wherever you end up, I’ll end up there too. You should let that help you make your decision.” Since James was in such a reflective mood, I finally asked him a question I’d wanted to ask him since the beginning of the semester. “Why did you do it?” “What?” he asked, rolling over to look at me. “Why did you make me so huge?” James seemed confused. “You’re sexier that way. What are you even asking?” “Why did you make the magic?” “I don’t understand.” “Just before I started growing, your eyes flashed gold. And they did it a few other times this year. I mean, how else do you explain everything? The showcase, the soccer team, the calendar, the invitational. And it’s not just me. You got this sudden ability to take all of my cock, your sudden muscle gain.” “I don’t explain it,” James said. “I’m just happy it happened.” “You mean, you didn’t…?” I trailed off. “I didn’t do anything except say the magic words.” “Not even that day I was crying by the dumpster over Victor?” “I barely remember that day.” “You said that a guy like me should have his deepest wish come true.” “Yeah. I was trying to make you feel better, and I was tongue-tied because I was in love with you.” “But after that day, my deepest wish did come true.” “I had nothing to do with that, Chris.” “Really?” “Really.” “Huh.” I lay there silently for a minute. Breaking the silence, James said, “If anyone made any magic, Chris, it was you. The common denominator to all the crazy stuff that happened this semester was you.” “I guess,” I said. “You’re not just saying that, are you?” James shook his head. “Good. Because I love you. And I want your deepest wishes to come true too.” James had a shocked look on his face. “What?” I asked. “Chris, your eyes!” “What about them?” “They flashed gold.”

Chapter 71 When we got from dinner to the dorm room, James and I were glad to be alone. Dave had managed to find me something barely big enough to wear to dinner, but I didn’t want to be confined anymore. So, I stripped naked and collapsed into bed, James following suit. Luke and Dave were spending their last night together in Dave’s room because his roommate had already gone home for the break. Alone together, James shucked his clothes, and we got into bed. James ran his hands all over my massive body, so massive that James actually had to lie on top of me. A bed we once slept in comfortably side by side I now took up all by myself. His right hand fondled the mighty heights of my pecs while his lips caressed the sturdy roundness of my shoulders and the left hand explored the bulging burliness of my biceps. The attention caused my cock to wake up and crawl towards my pecs. “Can I ask for something crazy?” I said. “Sure,” James said. “Since I’m already too big to fuck you, can we make my cock bigger?” James bit my shoulder. “I thought you’d never ask.” “I just want it big enough to poke through the other side of my pecs when I pec-fuck myself.” “I already said yes,” James said. “Yeah, but you probably want to make me five feet long.” “Nothing so garish,” James teased. “Just three or four.” “I know you’re joking, but I’d still like to be able to wear pants. And if we grow my cock tonight, we can send the new pics to that fashion major tomorrow, and he’ll factor in my cock when he makes the clothes, and maybe I can have pants that don’t strangle my balls again.” “Okay. So how big we talking?” “I think two inches should do it, but let’s play it by ear.” With that, James got up and got the lube, as I leaned over the bed. I positioned my cockhead between my pecs, and stuck my ass out for James. I heard James walk back from the dresser, and then I felt one of James’s hands on each of my ass cheeks. “Your ass is a poem,” James said. “An epic poem.” Suddenly, I felt his beard all over my ass, even over the sensitive hole. James was nuzzling me. For fifteen minutes, he worshipped my ass, licking, teasing, caressing, stroking. My dick grew stiffer and fought to get its way through my gargantuan pecs. He was so attentive and thorough I was practically panting. When he was satisfied that he had worshipped every last inch of my ass, he poured the lube over his cock. “So, what’s the batting order? Do I make you bigger out of the gate? Do I wait for you to give the command?” Like a beast, I shouted, “Shove your cock up my ass and tell me what a Big Guy I am.” “Yes, sir,” he said. With great force, his cock went all the way up my ass. “Damn, Chris. You got tight. All this new muscle. You got so tight.” James was struggling to get his words out. “I barely fit.” He took a few seconds to catch his breath. “You got so big that you’re making my cock feel like it got bigger.” My cock twitched at the thought of James getting a bigger cock. “Glad to hear it.” “I bet you are, Big Guy.” I felt my cock surge longer, but it still was nestled in between my pecs. “Again,” I said. “Whatever you say, Big Guy,” James said. I again felt my cock thicken and stretch further, but the cockhead was still not through the twin masses of my pecs. “Again,” I said. “Glad to, Big Guy,” he said. As my cock swelled larger, I finally saw the head burst through my pecs. The head was the size of my fist, and purple from the exertion. “There,” I said, a note of relief in my voice. James began to fuck me as I began to fuck myself. I know James didn’t want a threesome, but we were having one: him, me, and my pecs. I matched my thrusts up through my pecs to James’s thrusts into my ass. The rhythm built, and James began to kiss the wide canvas of my upper back. I could feel his chest hair, torso hair, and beard rub against my hairless back. I was so big that the muscleman plowing his way into my ass, the one who was as big as a professional bodybuilder, felt small. With that image in my mind, I lost it and exploded, shooting a huge load into my face as I let loose a deep, primal bellow. Volley, after volley, after volley. My orgasm had caused me to tighten around James’s cock, and he began thrusting with even more force. Still I came. I could feel James swelling inside me. He began grunting and growling. Still I came. James picked up the pace. I could feel his balls slap against my ass. Faster and faster as he neared the edge. Still I came. Finally, James released a torrent of cum into my ass, guttural Ms escaping his throat as his hips took over and, on auto-pilot, he continued fucking me. Still I came. We collapsed into each other and landed on the floor. My orgasm finally subsided. “I wish we’d put a tarp down,” I joked. “We ruined the bed.” “We’ll sleep in Luke’s,” James said. His hand went to my chest to hold me, and it met a huge puddle of cum. “After we shower,” he added. James cleaned up as best he could while I went to shower. When I got to my feet, I expected to feel extra weight in my cock, but I didn’t expect it to be so much more. It felt like my cock and balls were made out of lead. I’d have to do the actual math when I wasn’t dripping with cum, but it felt like they’d doubled in weight again. I didn’t even bother with a robe or a towel—most people had gone home for the break; the rest deserved a show. When I got to the bathroom, I realized I would need to use the handicapped-accessible stall; I was too big for the normal shower now. In the shower, especially since I had some more room, I maneuvered the best I could to get a look at my massive nuts. To see if they could actually be twice as heavy as they were before their recent expansion. However, my chest was completely in the way; I’d have to do a manual inspection. Each ball could barely fit in my hand and was heavy like a boulder. But I could feel the warmth and the heat. They quivered as they produced gallons of sperm and semen, not to mention the torrent of hormones that flooded my body. Just their weight dangling from my body was erotic—even for someone of my strength, they felt immense. Back in the bathroom proper, I looked in the mirror to get a gander. They were glorious. Even soft, my cock made it most of the way to my knees, and my deep purple balls were pendulous and hefty, like coconuts. I leaned in closer to see if I should shave. And my face… I barely have the words for it. I was just starting to get used to my face being masculine and handsome and chiseled, but now the actual muscles of my face had enlarged: my brow ridge, cheekbones, jaw—all were lined with a thick layer of muscle. My face, still devastatingly gorgeous, was buff. I could still see traces of my old self, but they were just that: traces. I had a clear picture in my head of what I’d looked like in September. Now, I looked like a whole new person.

Chapter 70 I waddled my way down the hall to my last test, my shoulders grazing the walls of the narrow hallways. If I did well on this last test, I was going to outgrow the building. Thankfully, my seminar final was in the same building as my chemistry final, so it was just a short walk. When I got to the room, it took three tries to get through the doors. Between my shoulders, pecs, and ass, it was a logic puzzle just to enter the room. The professor looked at me skeptically when he saw my inhuman mass. He actually looked disappointed, and he made a noise of disapproval. “You were one of my most promising students,” he said. “Ever since you started to put on that ridiculous muscle, your work has taken a hit in quality. And this last month, you came to class exhausted and almost never participated. Why would you throw away a brilliant mind to chase something as transient as a physique?” “I’m not throwing away my mind,” I said. “You blew off your final for a bodybuilding contest. You scheduled the make up for a Saturday. What am I to conclude?” “If I were throwing away my mind, I wouldn’t be taking this final at all.” “Fine then. I made your final harder than anyone else’s. If you get extra time to study, it’s only fair.” He practically threw the test booklet at me. “Prove to me you’re not throwing away your mind.” “Can I sit on the floor?” I asked. “I’m having trouble with institutional chairs right now.” “Take the test standing on your head for all I care. That is the single hardest test I’ve ever written. I’d have trouble passing that test. So, a braindead roid-hog like you who’s blown off studying for workouts will likely drown in it.” That did it. I had respected this professor deeply, and now he was talking down to me, out and out insulting me. I was going to get every question correct, or I was going to die trying. The professor did not lie. It was a challenging final. On the first two pages alone, I found five trick questions. I couldn’t shake the worry that others had been trick questions too, and I just hadn’t been smart enough to spot them. When I finished the last question, I still had ten minutes on the clock, so I went back and checked my work. I went over every question thoroughly, making sure I left no crevice unchecked. “Time,” my professor said. I had been so focused on the test that I hadn’t even noticed my body once while taking it. I rose to my feet, wobbling a little as I found my new center of gravity, and handed him my work. He graded my test agonizingly slowly, looking for any jot or tittle out of place. I began pacing. Pacing with a musclebound body is surprisingly soothing. I had to focus on my legs and my arms, and it took me out of my head and put me into my body. When he finished grading, he looked up at me with a dark look. “How’d I do?” I asked eagerly. “It took me so long to grade because I was convinced you cheated,” he said, showing me my A+. “But there was no way you could’ve cheated with my noticing.” “Hell no.” “You proved me wrong,” he said. With that, I struggled my way out of the room, made my way outside, and told the guys the good news. Soon, we were all intertwined with each other in a group hug, and I leaned into it when I heard them all tell me, “Congratulations, Big Guy.” All three at once. They did that on purpose. My head spun with erotic pleasure and joy. My shirt burst off me, and my tights began to dig into me. My pecs were now so huge that when I inhaled deeply, they pressed up against my chin. That was so fucking hot I couldn’t even feel the December chill. My arms were so massive that my cannonballs had become beach balls. As Luke and David stood in front of me, I realized I was now as wide as the two of them standing side by side. I reached in as much as I could to feel my abs. They were so thick that, as far as I could reach, I could fit my finger into it down past the first knuckle. I picked up all three of my friends, spun them around three times, and put them back down. “Thank you guys so much!” “Look at you,” James said. “4.0 GPA, 18-inch cock, and 370 pounds of muscle stud.” “Let’s go see if we can find something that will actually fit you and then go out for my bon voyage dinner,” Dave said. “One thing I have to do first,” I said. My tights were digging so tightly into my legs that I couldn’t feel my feet. So, I flexed my thighs and ass as intensely as I could, and the tights snapped, flying off me like popped balloon. I exhaled in relief, completely naked in the middle of the quad. “That’s so much better. Now we can go.”

Chapter 68 Walking to the biochem final, I was so glad I was in new, super-stretchy tights. I had to practically throw my legs around each other to propel myself forward, and that was giving my ass a workout. My ass already felt so huge standing still; walking down steps and across campus made each ass cheek felt as large as a globe, but flexed into hard relief. When we got to the biology building, the front hall felt smaller. It was an older building, and I always knew it had narrower halls than the average school building, but now I could feel it. I could still walk down no problem, but I would have to turn to the side to let anyone else pass me. By myself, I took up practically the whole hallway. When I got to the classroom door, I had a moment of doubt that I could even get through it. I did get through, but I had to twist twice: once for my shoulders and once for my ass. Navigating campus was becoming a combination of a Rubik’s cube and Tetris. The biochem professor barely looked up from her newspaper as she handed me my test. As soon as I took it, she started a stopwatch and said, “One hour.” I walked to my seat, and sat down. My ass was far too big for the chair. I could only fit one cheek on it at a time. I tried balancing on one cheek, but that caused the chair to tip. I tried balancing half of each cheek on the chair, but I was pushed so far forward by the girth of my ass meat that I nearly fell forward. I tried sitting on two chairs simultaneously, but my weight kept splitting them apart, causing me to sink in between them. I used up ten minutes of my allotted hour just trying to sit down. “Professor, can I sit on the floor?” I asked, getting a little desperate about the passage of time. “Sure, whatever,” she said and turned the page of her newspaper. I sat on the floor cross-legged, and put my plastic storage box on top of my legs. I grabbed my pencil, and I finally took a close look at my hands. With all the muscle I’d been putting on, I hadn’t realized that my hands had gotten buff. My palm was thicker, my fingers bulkier. My hands looked meatier, altogether more rugged. I felt a familiar stirring in my crotch—my hands were turning me on. I had to take a few deep breaths just to prevent this whole situation from spiraling out. When I finally had myself back under control, I picked up my pencil; it felt as thick as a toothpick, and I snapped it in half. Thankfully, I had spare pencil, so I picked it up, but daintily, so I could finally start the test nearly 15 minutes after my time started. The material was exactly what Luke had quizzed me on. I cynically suspected that the professor had given Luke the exact same final one week prior, and Luke had not-so-subtly just tried to give me the answers. A lot of the test questions were long, open-ended ones that required me to draw diagrams, and my mitt of a hand and enlarged bicep made that a little slow-going. I knew what the diagrams were supposed to look like, but it was a challenge to get my body to make such fine, delicate motions. When I reached the last page, the stopwatch went off. “Crap,” I said under my breath. I hadn’t answered a single question on the last page. I turned my test in, and the professor unceremoniously graded it. She grunted and handed me back my test. “If you hadn’t spent all that time farting around, you would’ve gotten every question right,” she said. “Let that be a lesson to you.” With that, she folded her newspaper under her arm and left the room. James, Dave, and Luke came into the classroom. I looked down at my test. B. James ran into me full speed for a celebratory embrace, but with all my mass, I didn’t even wobble. Dave sauntered over and ran his hand through my hair. “We knew you could do it.” I knew what was coming, so I backed up. “Whoa whoa!” I stopped them, putting even more space between us. “A B is ten pounds. I already got those ten pounds by accident.” “We talked about it in the hallway,” James said. “We decided to treat those pounds as a bonus. You know, to keep your motivation up.” “You decided? Don’t I get a vote?” “Of course, you do,” Dave said patronizingly, quickly adding, “the vote’s three to one; you lose.” Luke snickered. “Can’t this wait until after my last two finals?” “What happened to the freedom of being beyond huge, beyond normal?” Dave asked. “What happened to getting big for me?” James asked. I gave in. “But one at a time, this time. I have two more finals to take, and I can’t take them naked. These are already my biggest clothes.” Dave and James began to move closer to me, but I quickly added, “And let’s do this outside. It was hard enough to get into this room. If I get much bigger, I’ll have to live here.” Once I’d safely gotten outside and Luke assured us the coast was clear, James and Dave stepped close to me. One, then the other, took turns calling me Big Guy. The pleasure dazzled through my brain behind my eyes, and I could feel myself grow heavier, solider, my body a more imposing, heavier mass of being. I had to move my legs further and further apart to make room for the sheer girth of my thighs. The tights were super-stretchy, so they hold well, but I was starting to get worried. When I looked down to check them or even pointed my head down just a little, my chin hit my pecs. My arms were so far to the sides that I felt like an airliner. The t-shirt cut into my arms, shoulders, and chest. It was clearly too small for me now, but it held firm and still hung loose around my waist. “You’ve earned your lunch,” James said. “Luke’s running to the cafeteria to get it. We thought we’d eat on the steps of the chemistry building to squeeze as much of a break between the tests as possible.” As we walked across the quad, my legs were so far apart that my steps had changed to a duck’s waddle, which made my ass flex and contract with every step. I was a juggernaut. When we got to the chemistry building, I asked Dave to take a picture of me so I could get a good look at myself, and the legs on me. Oh, my goodness. If my calves could get a normal distance together, they would rub against each other. I looked like a parade balloon version of myself from the invitational—I hadn’t lost any definition, just gotten bigger. I had to see if I could still do any of the dance routine Charles had taught me. When James and Dave realized what I was doing, they sat down in expectation. Dave, of course, pulled out his phone to film the whole thing. It was a little stiff, a little rough, and I had to exert triple to effort to get my biceps to their full flex because my fists and forearms were getting in the way, but I got through it. “Just checking,” I said. “What, no one-handed handspring?” Dave said, mockingly. I looked down to contemplate doing one, and my pecs crashed into my chin. “No, not today.” I heard Luke laugh from the distance. He’d returned with our lunches and had caught the tail end of the performance. “Not bad for a muscle blimp who’s twice as big as Luke,” Dave said. “Yeah!” Luke said. His tone of voice indicated he hadn’t realized that yet. “You’re more than twice as big as me now. Just over.” His pride a little dinged, he repeated, “Just.” “And you’re also just about three times as big as you were back in August,” James piled on. With all that attention an ego-gratification, I became erect so quickly that it flew out of my tights and slapped me in the chest. We were standing in the quad in broad daylight, and my 18-inch cock was sticking out, completely uncovered. If anyone were to walk by, my monster erection would be the first thing they saw. “James,” I said as calmly as I could manage. “Come here. I need you,” I added, and the two of us went off to the bushes. After a pro forma handjob that was too quick for me to even enjoy, I fertilized the bushes with my prodigious seed and returned to the quad. Lunch was surprisingly sans conversation. Between my test anxiety and Dave’s imminent departure, no one really felt like joking around.

Chapter 67 The calculus teacher looked genuinely surprised that I showed up. “You know you don’t need to take this test to get an A in my class, right?” she asked. “Oh, I need to take this test,” I said. I sat down at my desk. Thankfully, I had the room to myself, for I now took up 75% of a table meant for two people. The professor told me to begin, and I put the test on top of my plastic storage box. I did a quick once-over the test and realized it was far easier than I expected it to be, especially since I hadn’t really studied for this one. I whipped through the test in half the time allotted to me. The teacher took the test, graded it quickly, and handed it back to me with an A on top. I left the room excitedly dancing. Dave, Luke, and James were waiting for me in the hallway. “Well?” Dave asked. I showed him my A, and they burst into cheers. James came in for a celebratory kiss, and I felt Dave and Luke put their hands on my back. “Wait,” I said, but before I could extricate myself, they all said, “Big Guy” at the same time. My knees buckled the pleasure was so intense. I saw silver fireworks dance before my eyes, and my swelling body loosened James’s grip on me. They all had to back up a few steps to make room for my expanding girth. My pecs bloomed firmly forward; my arms lifted further from my sides. My shoulders were so wide I couldn’t see where they ended in my peripheral vision. As far as I could see, my shoulders went on forever, and then my arms stuck out past that. My shirt, the loosest shirt I’d ever owned, now fit perfectly. Maybe just a little tight at the shoulders and chest. Even kneeling, my legs pressed more firmly together and my ass jutted outwards. The color of my tights began to lighten as my legs stretched them further. I heaved with muscle. “What the hell, guys?” I asked, getting back up on my feet. “Did you forget?” “Forget what?” Luke asked. “That’s a yes,” I groaned, and my chest quaked mightily. “The day we first discovered this, all the way back in September, when you and Dave were getting me ready for the senior showcase, and you Big Guy’d me both at once, I put on fifteen pounds, not ten.” “I vaguely recall that,” Dave said. Luke cursed under his breath. “So how much did you just put on?” “If the pattern holds?” I did some quick mental math, already primed to think mathematically. “25. I am now 325 pounds.” “You carry it well,” Dave said. “Couldn’t you have waited until after I finished all four of my finals?” “No, we couldn’t. Not even a little,” Dave admitted. After a pause, he added, “Why would we?” “My muscles get in the way of delicate work, like doing a chemistry experiment or taking a test.” My voice grew rough in mock-anger. “You know, things I might have wanted to do today unencumbered.” I spoke plainly now; I was more vexed than angry. “I still have three finals to take.” “I thought this was the plan,” Dave said. “To motivate you. What isn’t motivating about ten extra pounds? You’re welcome, by the way.” I flexed my arm, and my cannonball was practically exploding. “It’s not just going to get in the way. I’m one sexy motherfucker. All this meat is going to distract me.” James rubbed me up and down, feeling the severe and impossible taper from my lats down to my waist. “You deserve the reward. And you’ll do fine on the other finals. We studied. You’re fine.” I saw a ghostly reflection of myself in a window; even standing over 100 yards away, I was too wide for my reflection to fit. “I’m definitely fine,” I said. “That’s my Chrissy!” Dave said, slapping me on the back.

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

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

Chapter 55 For a moment, I thought that James might have just returned to our room and wanted me to follow him there, but that didn’t match the wording of the note and felt a bit prosaic for James. Especially since he was feeling nostalgic. Then it hit me like a bolt from the blue. We had just re-enacted the time James met me; now he wanted to re-enact when I met him. I was headed to the cafeteria, not the dorms. I closed the door to the LGBT center behind me, delighted to find out that James had set it to lock automatically. The fastest way to the cafeteria was to walk straight through the center of campus, but that would mean walking through an open area completely naked. It was a chilly night, and there was a slight rustle of wind that added a bite to the air. But I wasn’t worried about the temperature; I actually delighted as my nipples stood at full attention and a small shiver caused my mighty musculature to ripple. I was afraid of getting caught. I doubted many people would be about on a Monday, but it only took one to call the security guards. Or worse, the cops. The most covered route to the cafeteria involved clinging to the walls all the way around the cultural centers, quickly diving into the bushes outside the library, and daisy-chaining my way across campus from building to building, crawling through bushes. I looked down at my exposed cock. I would need a machete to get through dense bushes. I would have to take the fastest route. For the first hundred yards or so, I could just stay close to the buildings and no one would be likely to see me. The absurdity of a nearly 300-pound muscle beast trying to do anything incognito was not lost on me. I couldn’t even press myself flat against the buildings: my upper back muscles and ass were too huge and my waist too small for me to lay flush. Making matters even worse was the bright, full night sky. Even if someone didn’t see me, they’d likely see my shadow. In the bright moonlight, I was such an edifice of muscle that I cast a mighty penumbra. Much to my giddy glee, even my shadow was monstrously hung. My shadow had a prodigious shadow cock dangling out of it. When I saw how huge my cock looked, even just as a shadow, the shadow started to thicken and enlarge. I quickly looked away; if I looked any longer, I would likely begin masturbating to my own shadow. When I got to the edge of the cultural centers, I peeked around the corner to the open space of the quad. At the far end were the library and the cart, and beyond that the cafeteria. There was no one out in the quad, so I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and began running through the quad. With the exertion of running, my pecs bounded up and down, my arms pistoned back and forth, the biceps bulging, fighting for space. My massive legs swung around each other speedily, colliding just enough to make the whisper kiss of skin-on-skin contact. The exhilaration of feeling my hulking body, naked and running through the open night air, filled me with a pure and simple erotic charge. I could be caught at any moment, and there was nowhere I could hide, and even if I put both hands in front of my cock, there was no way I could hide it, especially now that I had a semi. I was exposed in every sense of the word. My cock was soon at its full 16 inches. This was the biggest rush I’d ever had in my life, so why was I drawing it to a quick close? Halfway through the quad, I slowed down and began strolling casually. I even took a small detour to sit at my normal spot at the picnic table just to feel the cold wood press against my naked ass. As I sat there, I heard voices coming from around the library. Two men were walking through the quad, either arguing or punching each other in that friendly way straight guys do. I couldn’t tell which. There was no way to avoid this, so I just spread my legs open and put my towering erection front and center. When they got closer, I could tell they were both wearing coats with the same Greek insignia. Great. I was seconds from being discovered by two frat bros. The moment that thought flitted through my mind they saw me. They stopped dead in their tracks, and one pointed at me. The non-pointer shoved the offending arm down angrily, saying “Dude,” just loud enough to be heard. “Evening, gentlemen,” I said, tossing them a friendly wave. They took turns saying, “’Sup?” “Just enjoying the night air,” I answered. One of them visibly relaxed. “Dude, we thought you were a bear,” he said, so relieved he was practically chuckling. “Nah. I barely have any body hair. My boyfriend’s the bear.” The same frat bro said, “Cool. You do you.” The other frat bro wished me a goodnight and actually tipped his baseball cap at me. As they walked away, the first frat bro asked, “What was that about?” “It was the nice thing to do,” he said. “Yeah but did you see how big he was? His pecs were so big, you could use them for a bookshelf!” “His ass was so big you could use it for a bookshelf,” the other commented. “His arms weren’t guns. They were cannons. He could’ve pulverized us.” “He was being friendly, so I was being friendly.” “You didn’t have to tip your hat to him.” They walked away like that, bickering. Once they’d left the quad, I got up and walked the rest of the way to the cafeteria unobserved. I hoped that James had left some clue to indicate how I’d get in, or where, exactly, in the cafeteria he was, but there was no indication that anyone was in the cafeteria at all. Lacking a better idea, I pulled on the handle of the front door, and it opened. James was here alright; he was just making it difficult. Where in the cafeteria might he be hiding? Where was significant to him? He first saw me on the dance floor; I first saw him at… “Our table,” I said out loud. I strode through the cafeteria confidently until I got halfway to our usual table. There was James, lying on the table, completely nude. His cock was fully erect and slick with pre “What took you so long?” he asked. My cock was still erect, so I pointed it and said, “Everything about me is long.” James beckoned me to come join him. “You’re naked in public,” I reminded him. He furtively looked to the left and the right. “I don’t see anyone here.” “There are guards all over campus.” “No one’s going to catch us,” he said. “What makes you so confident?” I asked. “It’s a magical night; nothing’s going to stop it.” When I got to the table, James slowly lowered himself off it and sat in his usual seat, pulled out so there was room for me to position myself on his lap. “You’re not worried I’ll crush you?” I said. “I am a mighty man.” “I’ve been working out a lot,” he said, flexing his biceps. I don’t know if it was the moonlight or Charles’s regimen, but James looked massive, bigger than he ever had. I lowered myself on him and began pulling myself up and down, rubbing my hands up and down his hairy chest, occasionally pinching and tweaking his nipples. James’s hands were on my lower back, guiding me up and down. Deep inside me, I could feel his over 9-inch tool stretch me wider. Every time a ridge or contour hit my prostate, I gasped. James was growing red from the intensity and shined wet with sweat. I increased my speed, up and down faster, and James began breathing rapidly. I was on the edge myself. I leaned down to kiss him, hoping it would soften both our screams. That movement hit his cock at just the right angle, and James came hard and fast, his guttural M sounds filling the cafeteria. I closed my lips around him as my own orgasm burst out of my cock, ropes of cum spraying into his chest and stomach, dripping down to his legs and the floor. I pulled myself off him and crashed on my usual seat, James’s seed slowly trickling out of my ass and pooling on the chair. In between heavy breaths, I asked, “How are we going to clean up this mess?” “You didn’t bring my towel?” James joked.

Chapter 49 Thanksgiving dinner was delicious; James had no trouble eating his share. And the lecture afterward wasn’t half as boring as James made it sound. Henry and Doug pretended to feel excluded that we were going to a party (Doug might not have been pretending), but they also looked happy that their son got invited to a party. Because we were going to a party that night, James and I worked extra hard at sticking to the Charles-approved schedule, which meant we spent most of Friday alone in the shed. Henry took Dave to his art gallery to show him around; Luke and Doug decided to spend another day playing football in the yard. Before they started, Doug popped into the shed, holding his football. “Does it make you jealous to see me playing ball with your friend?” Doug asked James. “Not even a little,” James answered. “Good, because I love your Uncle Henry, but sometimes I really need someone to run around and act like an idiot with.” “That is not Uncle Henry’s speed,” James said. “No, it is not,” Doug said with a slight shake of his head. “Hey, man, are we playing or not?” Luke shouted. “He calls me ‘man.’ I like it.” “He calls his boyfriend ‘babe’ and me ‘buddy,’” I added. “Oh, that’s neat! Everyone gets a nickname. What does he call you, Jimmy?” “James,” James said flatly. Doug looked a little surprised by that, but then Luke came into the shed. “C’mon, man!” “See you guys later,” Doug said and went back to the yard. James was often quiet, but today he was extra quiet. It made our workouts serene, but I could tell there was something below the surface. “We don’t have to go to the party,” I reminded. “Oh, we do,” James said. “I have to know if the invitation was sincere.” At about 9 PM, a time at which James and I were normally already fast asleep, the four of us were in our best outfits, hand-picked by Dave, and we started the walk to the Barracks. James expressed concerns. “The Barracks aren’t the sort of place you wear a tie to,” he cautioned. “I want to look my best, and I look damn fine in this shirt and tie,” Dave said. “Hell yeah,” Luke echoed. “Besides, royal blue is my power color,” Dave added. Dave had wanted his Luke similarly dressed to the nines, but Luke refused in case, as he put it, he had to “throw down.” So, they compromised. Luke still had on his sunglasses, but Dave had coaxed him into a polo and khakis. By this point, I trusted Dave implicitly, so when he gave me a long-sleeved light-blue Oxford and white dress pants, I just put them on without blinking. Dave harangued James into a turtleneck and a dark pair of jeans, but James said he felt overdressed for the Barracks. “We are going to be the best dressed men there,” Dave said. The Barracks looked like a factory that survived a bombing. There were literally pieces of the ceiling and walls missing, and as we approached the building, a chunk fell off and crashed to the ground. The party was already in full swing. We walked into the crumbling building, and a cheer went up. Logan came over to the door to greet us, followed in tow by a woman half his height. “Jimmy! You made it!” He punched James affectionately on the shoulder and turned to us. “As the unofficial host of this soiree, I welcome you. I’m Logan.” He pointed at me, saying, “You’re Chris.” He then pointed at Dave and Luke. “You two?” Dave stepped forward, “I’m Dave, this is Luke. This is a charming ramshackle dive.” “Thanks!” Logan said. “This is my girl Lacey.” “Hi,” she said. “You remember her, right Jimmy?” James nodded. Lacey turned to Logan and said, “You’re right. Jimmy looks so much better with a beard.” “I know, right?” Logan said. “Tell me about it,” I added. A flock of unaccompanied women swarmed around us. “You’re Jimmy’s boyfriend, right?” one of them asked me. “Yes,” I said. Commiserating with her friends, she said, “Of course this hunk of gorgeous is gay.” She turned to Luke. “How about you, cutie?” “Gayer,” Luke said. She turned to Dave. “Gayest,” he said. Logan laughed, choking on his beer. “Leave them alone, ladies” Logan said. “They haven’t even gotten through the door.” One the flock of women had scattered away, Logan said, “It’s too bad none of you are into women. They outnumber us two to one at this party. Come in. Grab a drink. Dance. Mingle. Have fun!” I looked around the party. We were beyond overdressed. We might as well have worn tuxes to a pool party. Everyone else was dressed in t-shirts, flannels, sweaters, and jeans. Luke grabbed Dave by the tie and led him onto the dance floor. “Sir, yes, sir,” Dave said. James and I went over to the side to grab a drink and relax on the windowsill. “Seems it was a genuine invitation,” I said. “Seems it was,” James echoed. He actually sounded disappointed. I had to cheer him up. “Pretend we’re back in high school. You finally got invited to the cool kid club, and the hunkiest boy at the school is there with you. What do you do?” “I’m in high school? I run home. That’s too much pressure.” “Okay, fair enough. So what does suave, sophisticated 22-year-old James wish he’d had the guts to do at a high school party? This is your world. I’m down for anything. Even petty vengeance if that’s what you need.” “Thanks for the offer, but vengeance isn’t really my scene.” “Duly noted,” I said. “What would make tonight perfect for you?” “Honestly?” “Honestly.” “I just want to be completely gay. In-their-face gay.” “PDA? I’ve never seen this side of you before. I like it.” “More than just PDA.” “Oh, yes, please, James.” This was invigorating. “Tell me your dark fantasy.” “I’ve never been to one of these parties before, but I’ve heard rumors. See that teacher’s desk over there?” He pointed to an old-fashioned teacher’s desk bolted to the floor. “I’ve heard that if a guy climbs up to the bell and rings it,” he pointed to the dismissal bell above the door, “he gets to pick a brave lady to stand on that teacher’s desk over there and strip naked.” “Do you want to be the climber or the lady?” I asked. “Climber,” James said. “Obviously climber.” “You know I’m down for public nudity. Do I stop at my underwear or unleash the Kraken?” “Lady’s choice,” James said. “But let’s dance a little bit first. I need to build up my nerve.” I took off my socks and shoes and hid them on a ledge outside the window. “Why’d you do that?” James asked. “This way you don’t have to give me the heads up when you climb. No one wants to see a stripper take off his shoes. A lady prepares.” I swigged the rest of my beer, and we joined Dave and Luke on the dance floor. James and I had to have been dancing for a half hour when I realized that there were now twice as many people here than when we arrived. Even with the open windows and pieces of the roof missing, the room was getting hot and sweaty, so James sent me to fetch him a water. When I came back to the dance floor, I couldn’t find him in the throng of people. I was about to ask Dave where James had gone, when, over the crowd and music, I heard a bell ring loudly. Someone cut the music, and all eyes turned to James. He had scaled the wall and rung the bell. “Things are about to get interesting,” Logan said, walking over to James. “So, Jimmy, what lovely lady would you like to do a show for us?” James pointed squarely at my head, and I feigned surprise. “It’s a first, people of the Barracks. The climber has selected a dashing gentleman to do the stripping.” All the women in the Barracks screamed as one. “It’s about time,” Lacey said, escorting me to the desk. “Get on up, honey,” she said encouragingly. Logan came over and announced. “Ladies and gentlemen of the Barracks, I give you Chris!” The music started, some cheesy ‘80s song a stripper might have danced to in a soft-core porn. Thankfully, it’s the same kind of shlock Vanessa and Charles had been using at rehearsal. I began rocking my hips and stepping back and forth. As the beat picked up, I planted my left foot and circled around, shaking my ass in time to the rhythm. This elicited cheers from the women, so I shook it a little harder, and slapped my ass with both hands. I finished turning around so I could face my audience again. Once I was facing fully forward, I pulled out the tails of my shirt, giving them a flash of my abs. I then undid the top two buttons, and, right on a downbeat, pulled it open to give a flash of my pecs. The crowd was eating it up; even some of the men started cheering. I started swaying back and forth, getting lower and lower to the desk, like I was doing a squat, until my gargantuan ass grazed the metal. Then, I swayed all the way back up. It was a move Charles taught me day one. When the song hit the first chorus, I began flexing one bicep, then the other, back and forth, watching them rise up, almost to my ear, back and forth, swelling in masculine beauty. At the end of the chorus, I flexed into a most muscular, my body swelling into a mountain range of muscles. The crowd lost its mind. And I hadn’t taken anything off yet. As the second verse started, I held the two open sides of my shirt, one side in each hand, and then pulled hard, tearing open the shirt and sending my buttons flying everywhere. I held the left side to my body and flashed them the right side, flexing my pec, swollen and pumped from that day’s work out, so it undulated to the rhythm. Then, I held the right side close to my body and flexed the left. The crowd ate it up, so I whipped my shirt off and spun it over my head like a lasso. I spotted Luke in the audience, and threw the shirt at his face. He caught it, and the crowd roared. I flexed my 8-pack, bringing the bricks of my torso into full relief, up and down in a body roll to show off my minuscule waist. One woman in the front row started fanning herself. The second chorus was starting, so I spun around and flexed my back muscles. I spread my lats to show them how wide my back was in comparison to my tiny waist. Then I flexed my ass up and down, each cheek larger than a lesser man’s head. The fabric of my pants could barely contain me. Still with my back to the audience, I undid my belt and threw it out the open window. I unzipped and bent over as I pulled them down to the cold metal of the desk. Bending over like that caused my ass to swell to its true magnificence. The crowd applauded louder, one woman even screaming, “Oh my god!” like she was cheering for the Beatles. I kicked my pants to the floor, and on the bridge of the song, I spun back around. I was now only wearing my boxer briefs. When the crowd got a face-full of my giant bulge, each nut as large as my fist, the flesh of my still-flaccid cock a thick cord of flesh, easily double the size of a normal erection. The head strained through the fabric. A collective, low-pitched, “Whoa!” settled over the audience. During the last chorus, I hooked my right thumb into the band of my briefs, pulling it down past my Adonis belt. I was testing if the audience wanted to see everything. I’d pull it down a little, then pull it back up. Two or three times I teased them until Lacey screamed, “Take them off!” Soon the whole crowd was chanting those three magic words over and over. Not one to disappoint a crowd, I grabbed the band of my briefs with both hands, whipped them down, and threw the briefs high into the air. There I stood, in front of everyone, completely naked, my cock, slowly lengthening, slightly plumping from the attention. My balls swayed from my exertions. And the crowd burst into a peal of screams like I have never heard. The song came to an end, and I bowed. Logan came running up to the desk and said, “Let’s hear it for Chris!” At some point, James had come up to the righthand side of the desk, so I pulled him up onto the desk and pressed my naked body against his fully-clothed body. I spun him in front of me, tilted him into a dip, and kissed him deeply and passionately. The crowd screamed even louder. “Let’s hear it for Chris and Jimmy!” Logan corrected, and the crowd applauded again. James and I stepped down from the desk, and I asked him, “Was it everything you wanted.” James was blushing and having trouble breathing, but he managed to say, “And then some.” Dave and Luke came up to us. “That rocked, buddy!” he handed me back my shirt. “I had to grab these from a very angry woman with sharp nails,” Dave said, handing me back my boxer briefs. “You are such a showoff.” From Dave, that was a compliment, not a criticism. “And that was with only one week of dance lessons,” I said. “You’re welcome,” Dave replied. I put on my boxers and put the shirt on as best I could. My pecs and abs still peeked through as there were no buttons to hold it together. “Where did my pants end up?” I asked. Lacey squeezed through the crowd and showed me my pants. “I’ll give them back to you,” she said. “At the end of the party. I want you dressed like this for the rest of the party.” James showed me the time on his phone. It was ten minutes until our allotted time ended. “I guess I’m walking home without them,” I told her. “James and I have to go.” “So soon?” Logan asked. “People are going to talk about that for years.” “Let them,” James said. “I get to go home with the real thing.”

In this chapter, Chuck hits the gym, bigger and stronger than before, and learns to control his newfound abilities. Chapter 3 Chuck pulled up to the gym, still feeling great from fooling around with his fuck buddy Clint. He felt pumped and energized, more ready to hit the gym than he had felt in months, motivated and ready. He hurried from his car into the gym, the cold winter air causing his breath to steam into white plumes as he walked. As he walked into the locker room to drop off his coat, he couldn’t help but grin at how snugly his Underarmour shirt was hugging his shoulders and arms. He hadn’t lifted in a while, so why was he feeling this great pump already? It had started when he felt that tingling buzz when he was fucking Clint, a feeling of energy humming into his body. What was that all about, he wondered as he locked up his coat and went to step on the scale. The metal scale clanked as Chuck got on, and he adjusted the levels towards the usual 210 or so he expected. He set it there, and it still wasn’t balanced. Chuck decided to take his shoes off, as maybe that was throwing it off, but that didn’t make any difference. His clothes didn’t weight much, so that couldn’t be it either. He adjusted it down a bit—maybe he had lost weight recently from working so much?—but no change. He adjusted it up slowly, first to 215. Still nothing. Then to 220. No way, he hadn’t been 220 ever. Still nothing. “Hey, you guys know if anything is wrong with this scale?” Chuck asked a few of the other guys in the locker room near the scale. They just shrugged and went back to changing. Chuck’s stomach fluttered. What was going on? Had he… somehow gotten bigger? He felt pumped, his clothes were tighter… but how? He moved the level on the scale until it balanced out. 225! He had gained 15lbs since he last weighed himself a couple days ago. Chuck reached up and adjusted his Gophers hat, rubbing a hand across his bald head, his bicep bunching into a bigger, harder peak than he remembered having. How the fuck had this happened? He couldn’t have just gained 15lbs out of nowhere; he hadn’t been eating THAT much lately, and god knows he hadn’t been to the gym. 15 pounds didn’t just come out of nowhere, so what was going on? Maybe the scale was just wrong? But that didn’t fit with how pumped and swole he felt, didn’t fit with what he saw in the mirror earlier this morning. He couldn’t help but grin. He tensed his pecs and swung his arms back and forth in excitement. He was bigger! Just what he had always wanted. He felt that same buzz from earlier shiver through his body as he thought about getting bigger, and he grunted. Suddenly all he could think about was growing more and getting pumped up. It was time to hit the weights. He walked out into the gym and got to work. It was chest and tris day, and he started with some warm up weights on the flat bench, using 35lb dumbbells to get the blood flowing. They were way too easy and felt light even for a warm up. He worked his way up, feeling sweat start to spread over his body, feeling strong and energized, more pumped up than he ever remembered feeling at the gym. 45lb, 60lb, 70lb dumb bells; they still felt too easy. Every lift felt good. He looked at himself in the mirror after his 4th set and almost gasped. His chest had never looked so good, pumped up and swollen with muscle. He grabbed the 80lb dumbbells, more than he had ever used when doing dumbbell bench press, and cranked out a set of 8, easily a PR for him. He dropped the weights with a satisfying *clunk* and sat up. He looked down at his chest, pecs engorged with blood, and tensed them one by one. He normally couldn’t do the pec bounce thing, but right now it felt natural and easy. A chuckle escaped his lips as he felt his heavy pecs dancing under the Underarmour, which hugged his furry skin tightly. Chuck went about his workout and every exercise was like the first; weights felt lighter than ever, he felt like he wasn’t getting tired, and he put up PRs everywhere he went. Pec deck, incline bench, dumbbell flies, tricep pull downs, skullcrushers, everything felt great. Two-thirds of the stack on the pull down machine clanked down as he finished a set, more than he had ever done, and he looked in the mirror again, his tris swelling out into horseshoes of muscle, looking hard and strong, blond-red hair (had there always been so much?) covering part of his upper arm. His pale skin was ruddy with effort, and slick sweat made his arms shine. He was so locked into his workout that Chuck didn’t notice the other guys in the gym as much as he usually did. He definitely wasn’t the biggest guy in the room, which he liked; it was nice to check out the other big meatheads in the gym, and it usually kept him motivated watching the bigger guys lift. “Hey, would you mind giving me a spot?” Chuck snapped out of his reverie as an older, bigger guy in a grey tank top approached him and asked. Chuck grinned. “Sure, big guy, no problem,” Chuck said and followed the guy back over to a bench press. The other guy was a regular, and Chuck recognized him; probably 245lb and muscular, like he had been lifting for 30 years. He had 315lb on the rack. “What’s your name again?” Chuck asked as the other guy laid down under the bar and shifted his weight to get in position. “Dave,” he said and got his hands in position. “I’m gonna go for 8 or 10, help me out on the last few reps,” he said to Chuck as he grabbed the bar and started lifting. “Sure thing,” Chuck said and he put his hands in position under the bar, near Dave’s hands. Chuck had always admired this guy but never had the courage to introduce himself or say anything; he was in such better shape than Chuck and was much stronger. But that was the old Chuck. Not this new Chuck, who was riding high on newfound confidence. “Four, five, six, you’re looking good bud, keep going,” Chuck said, encouraging Dave, who was focused and huffing with effort. Chuck was jealous of how big Dave’s pecs were, how they tensed and squeezed as he lifted. Chuck wanted to be that big, or bigger, way bigger, and all of a sudden he wanted it so bad. Chuck HAD to get bigger than Dave, and he felt that familiar tingle surge through his whole body. “Seven, eight, come on, a couple more!” Chuck said and moved his hand closer to the bar. His hands brushed against Dave’s, and suddenly Chuck felt electric, an intense buzz shooting up his arms from where his hands connected with Dave’s. Chuck felt amazing, warm throbbing euphoria surging through his arms and into his body, and he felt every muscle of his body tense. “Whoa, shit, little help,” Dave said as he suddenly faltered, the weight almost pushing down on his chest before Chuck caught it and lifted it up. The bar slammed back into the rack, and Chuck backed up. “You alright, bud? Sorry I almost didn’t catch it in time,” Chuck said, walking around the rack. Dave sat up and shook his head. “I don’t know what happened, I was feeling great and then all of a sudden I just lost it, felt like I had no energy to get those last couple,” he said. “Weird. Glad I asked you for a spot, though, you got it. I think that’s a sign that I should be done for the day,” Dave said as he stood back up. Chuck compared their sizes as Dave stood. Dave looked noticeably less pumped up than just a moment before; his shoulders and traps seemed smaller, his arms less pumped, his chest didn’t have that nice fullness they had before. He was still a big guy, but not like before. “Heh, yeah man I know what you mean. I’m having such a good day today though, think I might try to push it a little longer,” Chuck said as he suddenly realized he didn’t feel tired at all, even after having lifted for the last hour. Dave shook his head and smiled. “Yeah man you look good! Haven’t seen you in a while but you look like you’ve been making some good gains!” “Yeah, you think?” Chuck asked, and looked down. He looked bigger. He felt bigger! “Yeah man, I guess you’re right!” Chuck looked back at Dave and realized Dave didn’t look much bigger than he did. “Anyway, have a good rest of your workout,” Dave said and he turned to head towards the locker room. Chuck went back to the pulldown machine and looked in the mirror. He looked jacked, bigger than he had ever been, and way bigger than he had been earlier this morning. He grabbed the pulldown bar and started another set. It was easy. So easy! It had been a PR just a few minutes ago, and now he was cranking out another set of 12 like it was normal. He didn’t even feel tired; he felt like he could lift for hours. He finished his set and took a step back. His shirt, a large, felt uncomfortably tight and showed off every bulging mound of muscle, especially his pecs and tris. What was going on? Everything was normal until he had thought about wanting to be bigger than Dave, tapping into the desire to be bigger that had been in the back of his head all day. He had felt that weird tingling feeling, and then he had accidentally touched Dave’s hands when he was spotting him. THAT’s when the crazy good buzz went all throughout his body, like… like energy was flowing into him from Dave. He looked up and saw Dave heading out of the gym, looked tired and worn out. He waved to him and Dave nodded and trudged off. He looked noticeably less pumped, even smaller, than he looked when he asked Dave for a spot. Almost like he had lost 10lbs… Chuck decided to go back into the locker room. He had to test something. Had to see for sure. He walked fast back to the locker room, an excited tightness in his chest. He got into the locker room and stepped onto the scale after he took his shoes off. 200. 215. 225. The scale balanced at 235lbs. Chuck stepped off the scale, dumbfounded. It didn’t seem real, or possible, but there it was. He had grown 10lbs in the last hour somehow, and he was pretty sure it was from touching Dave. A shiver rippled up his spine as he realized this, like something inside him was telling him he was right. “Holy shit,” Chuck said to himself as he realized the impossible was somehow true: he could drain people of their energy and steal their size to make himself grow bigger. “This is some sci-fi shit,” Chuck thought to himself as he clenched and unclenched his right fist, feeling a tingle rush along his skin. He looked up and saw another guy changing at the locker next to his. He was smaller than Chuck, but had plenty of muscle on him. He looked like he had just showered. Chuck had to test it. Chuck stepped up to his own locker, pretending like he was looking in there for something, and bumped against the other guy. The other guy adjusted his weight to move away from Chuck. Nothing happened. “Sorry bud,” Chuck said and he closed his locker. Hmm. So it wasn’t just from contact. What was he missing? Maybe this was all just in his head. But then he remembered… when he was spotting Dave, he hadn’t felt the tingle until he started thinking about how jealous he was of Dave’s size…thinking about how badly he wanted to grow…how he NEEDED to get bigger, that urge in the back of his head that had been there since this morning silently screaming at him for MORE. He decided to try again, but this time he would focus on his desire to get bigger. As soon as he thought about growing, he felt the tingle ripple up and down his skin, like he had switched something on inside of himself. He stepped over to the sink and again “accidentally” brushed against a guy who was heading back to the showers, a chunky overweight older guy. Immediately, as soon as he made contact, he felt something, felt a rush of energy into this body, so fast it took his breath away. His shirt was cutting into his arms and chest now, his pants feeling uncomfortable against his waistline and his boxer briefs pressing hard against his thighs, bulge, and round butt. The Underarmour rode up, exposing a sliver of furry belly. His beard seemed fuller and his forearms looked swollen and hairy. He immediately went back over to the scale. 240! It worked. It was true… somehow, it was true. What could this have been from, Chuck thought to himself, excited and scared and confused and elated. “Researchers at the U of M are investigating a possible theft in some research equipment at the new 3D printing lab that is currently under renovation,” the TV in the locker room suddenly blared. Chuck looked up and saw a picture of the construction site had been working at all week. “Authorities say experimental nanotechnology has gone missing in the last few days and are claiming that the construction company in charge of the project might be at fault,” the news story continued. They droned on as Chuck went back over to his locker. Chuck looked down at his hands and remembered what had happened yesterday… that weird canister…the blue mist that had knocked him out…that oily substance that was somehow all gone when his boss found him. Another shiver rippled up Chuck’s spine and he knew it was true. Whatever he had been exposed to was inside him and had given him this power. A rising panic suddenly filled Chuck’s mind—what the fuck was wrong with him, was it going to poison his body, how would he get it out?—but it was suddenly snuffed out and replaced with the overwhelming need to get bigger. To feel that buzz again, to have more energy, to get more! He shook his head and wondered why he was so worried about it, when all that really mattered was getting bigger. He clapped his hands and adjusted the chubby in his shorts as he decided he wanted to lift all day. He had never felt more energized, never felt better in his life! He brushed by one more guy on his way back out to the gym, feeling a little surge of size pump into his body, 245lbs and ready to smash some PRs. THAT’s what mattered! He took off his hat and adjusted it—it suddenly felt too tight on his head—and sauntered off to the squat rack, his bigger shoulders and lats and thighs causing him to walk a little differently than he had been this morning. He fit his maroon and gold U of M hat back on his head and he grabbed a 45lb plate, lifting it up and racking it onto the bar. Chuck spent hours lifting, getting sweaty and ripe, stopping only to get a protein shake from the bar at the gym. He didn’t feel tired until late afternoon. He resisted the urge to drain more size, even though he wanted to; he could feel it, like an itch that needed to be scratched, but he didn’t want to cause a scene. At least not yet.

In this chapter, Chuck plays around with his fuck buddy Clint and starts to tap into something new and unexpected. Chapter 2 Chuck awoke the next day feeling good. He was still a little weirded out by what happened at the construction site the day before—the strange mist knocking him out and getting into his lungs, then disappearing by the time he woke up—but he didn’t feel any worse for wear. He thought about going to the doctor, but it’s not like his insurance would cover anything even if he was hurt. If anything Chuck felt strangely energized, like he had a little bit of a buzz going. He also felt very horny, he realized as he squeezed his thick 6 incher through the sheets of his messy bed. He bit his lip and growled, and his mind instinctively turned to thinking about getting bigger and stronger, about admiring big, muscular guys. He grabbed his phone and opened up Tumblr to start looking at size comparison pics—nothing turned him on more than seeing a big guy totally outsize someone next to them. He sighed and grunted heavily as he sat up, pulling his dick out and stroking softly, thinking about how hot it would be to be a foot taller and hundreds of pounds bigger than somebody, pounding away at a tight fuck hole, lifting them up and down… Chuck opened up Scruff on his phone and decided to message his buddy Clint, a friend he sometimes fooled around. “Feelin’ horny this morning, wanna cum over?” Chuck typed and hit send. Chuck was still pretty deep in the closet, especially with his family and guys at work, but he chatted with guys on Grindr and Scruff and occasionally had them over. Clint was a skinny, furry otter who liked Chuck’s beard and relatively thick build; he liked to hook up when he “wanted to scratch that bear itch”. Whatever Clint thought of him, Chuck didn’t care. He just liked getting his dick wet with the help of a smaller guy every so often, and got off on the size difference between his 210lb frame and Clint’s lean 170lbs. Clint was taller than him by a few inches, but it didn’t matter once he was underneath Chuck. Chuck’s phone chirped, and he smiled. Chuck opened the door and Clint walked in. “Hey big guy, thanks for texting,” Clint said as he slipped off his shoes and set his Starbucks on the table. “It had been a while and I have just been dying for a good fuck, the last couple weekends at the bar have been SO dead, I mean just it’s the same old faces every night and Liam wouldn’t shut up about…” Clint yapped and yapped as Chuck kinda tuned him out. This was the flip side of having him over for a fuck, but it was usually worth it. Looking at Clint, Chuck felt the buzz he had woken up with intensify, and his cock chubbed up more in his sweatpants. When Clint finally paused to breath, Chuck interjected. “You wanna get on with this, or what?” Chuck said gruffly, stepping closer to Clint’s slender frame and wrapping his arms around him. “Well well, aren’t we just hot to trot this morning? You’re looking good, bear!” Clint said as he turned to him and squeezed Chuck’s shoulders and arms. “You feel a little bigger!” Chuck growled. He liked hearing that, even though he wasn’t sure if it was true, since he hadn’t made much progress at the gym lately. “Thanks bud, I try but it’s hard with my work schedule,” he said and flexed a little, feeling happy to get attention. He started thinking about what it would be like to be bigger, and he felt his whole body buzz with sexual energy, like what he felt this morning but amplified. “I don’t know how you work construction, ugh,” Clint said as slipped out of Chuck’s arms and started walking back to the bedroom. “It just sounds exhausting and dirty, no thanks. I get tired enough at Starbucks!” Chuck shrugged and followed Clint, staring at the otter’s tight ass bouncing as he walked. Chuck scratched his beard and smiled, feeling his cock swell even harder. “Your ass looks good,” Chuck says hungrily, licking his lips. “Heh thanks big guy, you know I try to keep it tight for you,” Clint purred and took off his shirt, revealing the hairier-than-you’d-expect chest and tummy. He was lean and flat-chested, even skinny; 170lb is pretty thin on a 6’1” frame. Chuck followed suit, removing his tank top and moving in to make out. Copper colored hair covered Chuck’s chest and tummy in swirls, a tinge of grey starting to creep in from the top of his pecs. His paunch bounced a bit as he threw his shirt onto the ground. He slipped off his sweatpants and boxers, legs showing some muscle. Their tongues wrestled and Chuck rubbed his beard against Clint’s smooth face as they kissed. “Hehe, that tickles!” Clint said and pulled away, falling onto the bed. “You bears and your beards, grr!” he said in an exaggerated tone. “You like it, admit it,” Chuck said and followed Clint onto the bed, pressing his weight against the skinnier Clint. “Maybe a little, short stack,” Clint said and they kissed for a while longer, both of their cocks swelling up harder. Chuck pressed against Clint, feeling the skinny arms and chest pressing against his own bigger bulk. Chuck felt big for the first time in weeks, and compared the size of his arm with Clint’s. “Look how damn skinny you are, little otter,” Chuck said and flexed his relatively big arm next to Clint’s. “I’m a lot bigger than you!” Chuck said, pumping himself up and feeling a tingle run down his spine again as he thought about getting bigger. “Yeah big guy, bigger than me for sure, hehe!” Clint giggled and compared sizes. “Your belly’s bigger too, you know!” he zinged, jiggling Chuck’s tummy around for emphasis. “Eh, I don’t mind that at all, gotta get bigger all over!” Chuck growled, getting into it more now, and he felt his body tingle harder than before. “Yeah Chuck, I bet you wanna turn into a REALLY big bear, don’t you?” Clint said, rubbing his cock against Chuck’s and egging him on more, the hair on both of their chests scratching against each other. Clint knew what buttons to push. “Yeah… YEAH!” Chuck growled and wrapped his arms around the skinny otter beneath him, squeezing hard. For a moment, Chuck lost himself, caught up in the thought of growing bigger and bigger. He imagined himself at 250, 275, 300lbs or maybe even bigger someday, thick and strong, muscular and fat, a big muscle bear like the guys he saw on Tumblr and World’s Strongest Man shows, making guys like Clint look like waifs. He wanted to be bigger, more than he ever knew, the sudden, powerful desire for it all-consuming, and he gripped Clint tight, feeling a shiver run up his body. “Unnnngggghhhh wow you squeeze hard, bear!” Clint moaned, feeling Chuck bear hug him, feeling a sudden weird numbness spread through his body. He grimaced as a tiredness and lethargy wash over him, like he was high or drunk but not in a good way. Chuck, on the other hand, felt euphoric, imagining himself growing more, surging with more energy, becoming powerful and huge, losing himself in the fantasy as he squeezed the comparatively smaller Clint, who somehow felt smaller and skinnier in his grip as he bear hugged him. All he could think about was growing bigger—why had he never realized until now that it was the most important thing to him? He needed more, had to get more, could feel his body buzzing and tingling, couldn’t hear Clint asking him to stop squeezing so hard… He shook his head, got his bearings and released Clint, who gasped as he got his air back. Chuck sat up in the bad, blinking hard and coughing, feeling the last euphoric tingles shiver up his spine, realizing his cock was harder than it had ever been in his life. “Jesus Chuck that was some bear hug, I feel totally drained!” Clint said, getting his breath back. “That felt so good… you’re even bigger and stronger than I thought!” Chuck growled at that, feeling his pecs pulse, feeling like he did after a good workout, pumped and energized and horny. “Yeah, stronger than I thought too… damn, never felt anything like that before, I feel… amazing!” “You seriously look great, Chuck!” Clint said, reaching up to feel Chuck’s pumped up pecs and shoulders. “What can I say, fucking you makes me feel great! Now turn over and let me go to work,” Chuck ordered, feeling an authority he had never felt. “Ooh yeah, boss me around big guy, yes sir!” Clint said playfully, his ass puckering for it as he turned over and presented himself. Chuck lubed up his cock, which throbbed angrily, looking red and swollen, bigger than Chuck had ever seen it. He loosened Clint’s hole up with rough fingers, getting even harder as he contrasted the skinny otter’s thighs with his own thick ones. “Here comes your big bear, bud, get ready!” Chuck grunted and plowed into Clint, who moaned loudly. “Fuck, you feel tight, just how I like it!” “Yeah, fuck me big guy!” Clint groaned. Chuck looked down at his buddy, bent over and submissive, looking small next to his thicker frame. He felt strong, powerful, big! He fucked slow at first, feeling his thick cock plug Clint’s tight hole, pistoning in and out. Chuck flexed his pecs and arms as he fucked, his muscles feeling plumper and thicker than this morning. Was it just his imagination, or was he pumped up from sex? Whatever this new feeling was, he loved it. Chuck pounded into his buddy hard, harder than ever, his thick cock feeling swollen in the tight ass of his friend. He reached forward and grabbed his Clint’s hips, lifting up and adjusting his friend’s weight more easily than he ever remembered being able to and pulling him back farther onto his throbbing cock. “Unnnggg fuck me harder, Chuck, yeah you big fuckin’ bear!” Clint groaned, getting his bear fix, probably more than he expected. “Yeah, I love when you call me big bear, little guy, gonna pound you HARD,” Chuck growled, and thought about growing even bigger. He gripped Clint’s hips and pounded, machine-like. He closed his eyes and imagined himself even bigger, growing thicker and stronger, his cock stretching out Clint’s hole until it wouldn’t fit and again realizing he needed more size. As soon as he thought about that, he felt the familiar tingling feeling spread through his body again, making him feel euphoric, taking his breath away. It was all that mattered, being bigger, needing more, feeling powerful and strong, more more more big big big now now now… “Unnnggg Chuck, you’re making me so…ung…light headed,” Clint whimpered as he felt a cold numbness once again overtake him, Chuck’s cock filling him up even more. “Fuck me harder!” “Hhhhaaaaahh, fuck yeah,” Chuck breathed as his train of thought returned, and he felt tingles surge into his body, making him feel bigger, heavier, stronger. He looked down at himself, pecs fuller and rounder, his little gut bulging out more, bigger balls slapping against Clint’s ass, and he grunted deeply, feeling himself getting closer to climax. “Gonna get so damn big, fuck!” Chuck yelled as he exploded into Clint, cumming harder than he ever had in his life, his seed leaking out of Clint’s tight hole and oozing onto the sheets. They both panted and groaned for a while before Chuck removed himself from Clint with a slick popping noise, grunting and sighing as he did. He backed up, breathing heavily, and sauntered over the bathroom, his legs feeling plump and hard. “Holy shit,” was all Clint could manage. “Yeah, bud. That was awesome,” Chuck said as he grabbed a towel from the bathroom and tossed it over to Clint. “You really stretched me out, man, you felt…thicker than before,” Clint said groggily, like he was high. “Yeah man, I felt extra good today, super hard,” Chuck said and turned to grab a towel for himself in the bathroom. As he did, he saw himself in the mirror. He was noticeably bigger all over. His shoulders were wide, capped with round delts, curving up into bigger traps. His pecs looked thicker as he took a breath, and his belly paunched out a bit rounder. He raised an arm up and flexed his bicep, and it bunched up with more size than he remembered having. He grinned and laughed, not knowing what was going on but feeling amazing. “Hoo man I’m gonna be walking around like a cowboy today,” Clint said as he got up gingerly and walked over to the bathroom. Chuck moved past him to make way and noticed Clint didn’t seem that much taller, maybe an inch or two difference. Wasn’t Clint like 4 inches taller than him? What the hell… As Clint closed the door to leave, Chuck shook his head. He still felt bigger, pumped up, and energized even now that he had come down from his sex high. What was going on? He went back into the bathroom, looking himself over. It wasn’t a trick; he looked bigger. Maybe he just hadn’t noticed these gains before? Maybe he was just full from dinner last night? Whatever it was, Chuck felt good about his size for the first time in years…but he also felt more motivated to get huge than he had ever felt in his life. It was like something had unlocked in him, an intensity of his desire to get big he had never felt before. Any excuses he had made for himself earlier seemed silly to him now; what could possibly be more important than getting that energized feeling and growing more? He felt it deep in his bones, and it stuck around in the back of his head even as he ate his breakfast and put on his clothes. As he slipped into his shorts and pulled on his favorite Underarmor gym shirt, he swore it felt tighter than he remembered.